Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 520) (1887 07 12)
The text was read from the page scans by machine (OCR), so it has mistakes and its columns may run together. See the pages · About this title · At the Internet Archive
Page 1
J WD) ARTE a aN | — SSS a rer s cr a OUR= Co es K SS mt ta SS a ae i il te ti VV i VSS XA — f CTT \ _—Hntered at the Post Office at New York, N, Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. _ Copyright, 1887, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, July 12, 1887, r. $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS Price, area A Romance ofa Border Boy’s Life.* ere, VO, NL eS SFG BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, Wy i) ; AUTHOR OF ‘“‘BUCK TAYLOR, KING OF THE Sy) dS, L RSS STS nti hest_ ~ y COWBOYs,” ‘‘nEVADA NED, THE REVOL-~ rs Gil if eS Sa : ~ —— CEL, VER RANGER,” “‘ ARIZONA JOE,” i, Lh jy 4 ; ~ I 2 ae ah ETC., ETC, » Th DS WY / \Y ; = = CHAPTER L ij AN \ IN DEADLY PERIL, “Now I know where I am, so I] just take a : good nap and then strike for home, for I guess ws = : Wizz f J they think I’m dead and scalped.” -——S —— : Sy Fa e speaker was a youth of seventeen, dressed <= EVERY BASILISK EYE Was UPON THE DARING WHITE BOY, WHO HAD Tr *G. W. Middleton, Indian Agent, Indian Territory; INVADED THEIR VILLAGE, ’ THUS . Bar know as “ Good Mouiniee ’ and “ Dead Shot ATS | / a Lidl
Page 2
> 7 2 in a buckskin suit, much the worse for use, and wearing moccasins and a sombrero ornamented witia tarnished silver embroidery. His form was slender, wiry and yet athletic, and his face clear-cut, fearless and intelligent. His bronzed complexion, torn moccasins and general appearance indicated that he had some- thing of a rough experience of late, and his face was pinched as with hunger and suffering. But his look was determined, his blue eyes bright and piercing, and he tossed back his long, yeliow hair with the air of one who defied dan- ger and hard luck. He had no weapons of any kind, and it seemed strange that he should be there upon the wild prairie with no means of defense about him, ‘Tm about as tired as I am hungry; but it will be a good twenty-four hours before I can get anything to eat, though I can sleep, and with no fear of nightmare from overeating,” and he laughed lightly. He was looking about for a bed upon the leaves, when he happened to glance out upon the prairie. ‘* Lizards and wildcats! look a-yonder!” He stood like one paralyzed by what his eyes rested upon. He was in a small timber motte, where the trees grew quite thick, and through an opening he had gotten a glimpse of the prairie beyond. What he saw was a large body of Indians on horseback, and riding directly toward the spot where he was. fe realized the situation at a glance. He was a mere boy, unarmed, alone, many, many wiles from the nearest settlement, and in a clump of timber a couple of acres in size, sur- rounded by prairies, which for a long distance allowed no shelter from observation, should he attempt to fly for safety. It was near nightfall, for the sun was just upon the horizon, and the Indians, some half a hundred in number, were coming straight to the timber. They were not half a mile away, had just come over arise in the prairie, and, should he leave the covert of the woods, he would be in- stantly discovered. It was a perilous situation in the extreme, and one to try an old borderman’s iron nerves. ‘Holy smoke! I’m-a dead duck, sure as shootin’,” said the youth with a long-drawn breath, ““Scalped in ten minutes, by Grandfather’s Clock, I'll be, and coyote pickings in the morn- ing.” fie spoke calmly, yet he realized fully all that he had to face. His thoughts traveled fast, as he looked about him for some means of escape, though it seemed hopeless, uddenly he glanced upward, and far up a tree he beheld a spot which seemed to offer a chance of safety. A large branch, torn off by the wind, hed caught in a crotch of the tree. Could he reach it, he might find a hiding-place, He could but. try, and try he did. Up the tall trunk cf the tree he went, with the agility of a cat. At jast he reached the branch, shook it, and finding it firm, stretched himself out upon it at full length. “Its lucky I’m half-starved, for it makes me thinner,” he muttered with grim humor, The branch was nearly as large as-his body, and so would shield him from observation be- low, especially in the gathering twilight. Then the leaves had dried upon the branches, and it-in a manner protected him. Fully forty feet above the ground, and having to lie in a cramped position, and at the same time be careful not to roll off, his situation was not an enviable one. But. te lay there awaiting the coming of the Indians. * Pox glad I hav'’n’t got any weapons,” he said, adding: ‘I wouldn’t know what to do with them here.” ‘he Indians were on horseback, and riding directly toward the spot where he was, ‘(Thay are mighty cautious; but I don’t want to scare ’em,”’ the youth remarked, as he saw them separate and form a circle around the timber. Then they advanced and rode in from all sides, “* Good evening, gents.” whispered the boy to himself, in the same reckless manner that seemed to be natural to him, “Vm as glad to see you as if Pd run a vail in ey. foot,” he sun had now gone down below the hori- zon. and the red-skins went into camp in the a Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. timber, the chief taking me his quarters just under the tree in which the boy was stationed. ‘** Apaches,” he said shortly, recognizing what tribe they belonged to. “Lordy! they’ve got two prisoners—yes, »00r Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter of our outfit. They'll salt °em down sure as shootin’,” he mut- tered. It was true; the red-skins had in their midst two prisoners—men whose appearance indicated them to be Surdermen. They were securely tied to their horses, but upon reaching the timber were unfastened and made to dismount. Then they were tied fast to the tree in which the youth was hiding. The red-skins quickly staked out their ponies, sent sentinels on duty, and then built a fire to cook their supper by. The smoke came straight up into the face of the hiding youth, nearly suffocating him, and the effort to keep from coughing was terrible. ‘‘T wish I could save ’em,” muttered the boy, referring to the two prisoners, and he added in his quaint way: “ } hain’t solanghin’ safe myself, I guess, for they've got me treed, that’s certain. ‘“T could scare ’em into fits if I dropped down on their heads with a healthy yell; but, I guess I’d get the worst of it. No, I rather like this roost, and I'll crow when daylight breaks and they git. Lordy! just smell that boilin’ buffalo- meat! Oh! but it smells good, and yet Ill not ask for any. I doesn’t take supper: when I’m not invited, even if { know I would be wel- come, ‘That's the same band that surprised us, and I guess as they've got Reuben and Dan all the other boys was killed. ‘*T wish I had a fish-hook and line; I’d get me a piece of boiled buffalo, soon as they got through eating. ’ And thus the boy made his comments, taking the ludicrous side of everything, in spite of his deadly peril. One by one the warriors gorged themselves with the roasted meat, and then went off to the spots they had chosen for their night's slumber. The chief rolled his blanket about him, and, without giving a morsel of food to the two pris- oners, laid down to sleep almost at their feet, as they sat, still bound to the tree. Soon after the whole camp was in repose, and the youth from his lofty perch found it difficult to keep awake, though to drop off to sleep and fall to the ground would, he knew, be certain death. CHAPTER II. BUCKSKIN BILLY. In a lonely part of the Indian Territory, upon the banks of a beautiful stream, there stood the home of the youth whose perilous situation has been described in the foregoing chapter. It was an attractive home, the best in the scattered settlement, and there dwelt Dr, Middleton, a worthy settler in that wild land, and his family, consisting of his wife and three children, a son of twenty, a daughter of eigh- teen and the hero of this story, Billy, a youth, at the time he is presented to the reader, in bis fifteenth year. ‘ Billy had begn born upon the plains, so to speak, for his birthplace was the Indian Terri- tory, and it may be that this fact made him a natural rover, When but half a dozen years old, he could ride a mustang, and shoot a rifle, and as he grew in years he was wont to stray off alone, with his ¢ of and gun, get lost. about four times a year and have the whole settlement out hunt- ing for him, when he would turn up of his own accord from some unexpected quarter. His frequent acquaintance with a strap in his father’s hand, did not cure him of his wandering propensities, and he kept it up until one day he got lost in earnest, for he was picked up by a band of Comanches and carried off, The settlement turned out to hunt him up, but he could not be found, Indian signs were discovered, and as weeks went by and Billy did not reappear he was set down as dead, and all the old women had the satisfaction of saying: ‘I told you so.” But Billy had a way of saying that he would always turn up all right, and he had the satis- faction of proving his— ‘‘I told you so,” by one morning appearing at home, just before breakfast, mounted upon an Indian pony, dress- ed from head to foot in buckskin, and all the ats feathers and toggery of a full-Aledged In- an, , His story was soon told. He had been captured ’ by the Comanches, and carried to their village where he had been kept a prisoner for months. Billy was shrewd, and he had appeared more than happy with his captivity, and, a boy as he was, did not trouble the red-skins much, So one nigbt he decided to leave. ; For weeks he bad laid his plans, simply and skillfully, and, creeping out of his tepee in a drenching storm, had coolly gone to the corral, stolen a pony, and armed only with the bow, arrows and lance of the Comanches, had set out for home. The pouring rain had effaced his trail, and when the morning dawned he was eight bours oni of pursuit, he well knew, and so had no ear. From that day the youth wasa hero in the settlement, and settlers gave him the name of Buckskin Bill, which has clung to him through all the years that have passed since then, Proud of his name, Billy Middleton took great pains to always wear buckskin, and his mother and sister kept him supplied with a handsome suit. After his experience with the Indians, Buck- skin Bill was considered, young as he was, an authority on matters pertaining to red-skins, and his parents, though anxious when he went roving off alone on the prairies, had abound- ing faith in his ability to take care of himself. There was a school in the settlement, which Buckskin Bill attended, riding the five miles from his home to the log cabin every morning, and, a hero among his schoolmates, he was anxious to be looked upon as aheadin his lessons. and so studied hard to keep at the bonor-end of his class. His father had bought him a rifle, his brother had given him a revolver, his pony was the one which he had brought from the Indian village, and so he was well fixed. One morning, upon his way to school, Buck- skin Bill suddeniy came across a trail that caused bim to halt, dismount, and examine it. ‘‘Inguns, sure!” he muttered. ‘¢ And there are just thirteen of ’em. ‘* Mother says that Is an unlucky number. “‘T guess Pl] see what them reds are about, so near the settlement.” So saying Buckskin Bill set about following the trail, and in balf an bour came to the conclu- sion that the Indians were concealed in a timber motte ahead. He knew that the log-cabin school was buta short distance away, and he supposed the In- dians were lying in wait to dash upon the place when all the children were within and thus get a large number of young cone So Buckskin Bill crept back from his point of observation, made a flank movement and was soon at the school. He was late, but went up to the teacher, who was also the parson of the settlement, and said: ‘‘ Parson Green, there are Ingun.” “Indian, William, Indian—il—n—d—i—a—n, Indian, not I—n—g—u—n—Injun,” corrected the dominie. vadiin “Yes, sir, Indian—well there are Indian signs about, for I struck a trail of thirteen ponies and they are over in the island motte, just waiting for us, I guess.” ‘‘ My son, this is startling news, indeed. ““T will at once dismiss the school, and—” “No, parson, I guess we can do better than that.” ‘ What can we do!” y ‘Well, sir, they will have to cross the prairie for nearly half a mile to get here, and I cam go ont and watch for them, and we can just give them a surprise party.” * Why, William, what do you mean?” “ Well, sir, the large boys are all armed and there are sixteeu of us, and you, sir, and me ¢an just lay for the reds and when they think they think they are creeping up on us, We will give — them a salute.” * Ah, William, you are an old boy, and I fear will one day turn to war. b “But I am a man of peace, and I will not advise in this matter, other than to say we had better all leave and elarm the settlement.” “‘No, sir, for finding es gone the Indians could escane before (he settlers rallied, “Tl fix it all right, sir, if you will Jet me, and—” “Do as you think best, William, for as this is sti tside of books T yield to you in it.” oe thank qos sir,” and Buckskin ill hastily told the school children what he had seen, and what he felt sure was the intention of the red- skin raiders. ; Then he got_the girls in one position away from the windows and doors, and placed the fifteen boys who had weapons, ranging from | = ae is =
Page 3
~ Het i a wifles to shot-guns and revolvers, at the three windows and the door. ‘** Now I’ll go and see if they are coming.” So saying he slipped out of the cabin, leaving am anxious but brave little party behind him, mot one of the border girls fainting or crying to wnnerve their daring young brothers, and the calm courage of the parson being of great ser- ‘vice to them. The horses ridden by the boys and girls, were all kept back of the school-house, where they were staked out on a bit of meadow land, The Indians would not approach from this | way, Buckskin Bill thought, but would hope to carry off the little herd which consisted of some half a hundred animals, for Parson Green | had a goodly number of youngsters under his ' charge, and all had to go to school on horse- | back, some riding as far as a dozen miles each morning and evening in their search for learn- | ; ing. When Buckskin Bill had reached the edge of the woods he glanced out over the prairie, keeping himself hidden. ardly had he done so, when out from a amotte a mile away, rode a band of red-skins, They were thirteen in number, a chief rode at their head and they came straight on toward the log-house school, which was several hundred ards in the rear of where Buckskin Bill was in iding. CHAPTER IIL BORDER BOYS AT BAYS BUCKSKIN BILL at once made known the fact to the dominie, and the scholars, that the red- skins were coming, All was at once a scene of suppressed excite- ment, the girls turning pale, yet keeping per- . fectly quiet, while the boys were glad to geta | : ” before their sweethearts chance to *‘show o and sisters, | The dominie, in the goodness of his soul, of- | fered up a short, fervent prayer, and then Buck- | ‘skin Bil, the chosen captain of the log-house | “ fort,” as the boys called it, took a position to | watch the coming of the red cut-throats. Tt did not take very long for the warriors to cross the prairie, and, reaching the woods they at once dismounted and made their horses fast. | Buckskin Bill was standing on a shelf, gazing | ‘through a crevice in the walls, and reported | Progress . | The manner in which the red-skins moved con- vinced him that they had a leader who knew the | settlement and the situation of the school-house. They separated, formed a line, and began to | creep from the tree. ** Parson?” ‘© Yes, William?” ** You know that sneaking fellow, Half-Breed Joe!” Yes, William.” “* Well, he is the guide, for I saw him just now dodge behind a tree, and he wishes to get revenge because we drove him out of the settlement for | stealing,” whispered Buckskin Bill. ** Providence will preserve us from the wicked doer,” said the parson. | Continuing his watching the young leader saw the red-skins creep nearer and nearer until they | came to the edge of the timber that skirted the open space on which the school-house was built, Here they paused, completely shielded * B-a-k-e-r, spelled Baker,” suckskin” Bill, in a loud tone, for the benefit of Half-Breed Joe, who he knew understood English well, and would tell the warriors they were not expecting | anattack . ** Let the girls sing, parson,” whispered Buck- | skin Bill, and the girls started up a Sunday- | School hymn, the parson leading, though their | Voices quivered a little. Instantly a tall Indian stepped out from the cover, It was Half-Breed Joe, and he seemed to realize, as he knew the customs of the whites well, and had often been to the school, that the scholars were going through their exercises, so no danger of discovery need be apprehended, The other Indians at once followed his ex- ample, and all moved cautiously toward the school-house, When they had gotten within thirty paces, crouching and sneaking along, though they ex- a surprise, Buckskin Bill whispered: “J will take Joe, so you boys aim at the thers, when I give the word,” ; The boys had each one a convenient crevice between the logs, and all were ready when Buck- skin Bill sung out: +e Fire 1” re At the same time his finger touched the a ger of bis own rifle, and Half-Breed Joe, Pektbscccs scamp, fell dead in his tracks, - © eae en 2 |, amen ae os) ate eee aaa iis £5 ae i Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. | and that is all there is about it.” ed AIRED FEST AS TIE foe The chief also fell, with two others, and sever- al more were wounded. It was an utter surprise to the red-skins, and they dashed for cover with all speed. But, seizing a rifle handed him by the parson, Buckskin Bill fired again and with fatal effect, while the boys stationed at the door and other windows came running with their weapons to that side of the house. ** Yell, boys, yell! and follow me!” shouted Buckskin Bill, andin a moment he had dashed out of the school-house, followed by his school- mates, But, several of the wounded Indians hastily opened fire with their bows and arrows, and Buckskin saw a comrade fall, and at the same time received an arrow in his arm, But it did not check the brave boy, and he ran on, while the others followed bis Jead, and it was not very long before the only Indians to be seen about, were dead ones, while off on the prairie, riding at full speed, were five who had escaped, and were hastening back to their strong- hold in the mountains, completely demoralized by their defeat, and vowing vengeance against alf-Breed Joe, who they believed had led them into a trap, for his urging had caused a dozen of the more reckless young bucks of the tribe to take the war-path, with the hope of getting half a hundred children’s scalps and capturing their horses. CHAPTER IV. THE BOY DEAD-SHOT. Tue fight at the school-house, in which eight red-skins were slain, and a fearful calamity averted, in the massacre of so many children, caused Buckskin Bill to become more of a hero than ever. There were old heads who Said that the par- son should at once have turned the scholars out and alarmed the settlement; but then had they done so, the red-skins could have escaped and | doubtless. would bave again attempted a raid, and so Buckskin Bill’s plan was considered the right one by many. The chief’s horse, which was a splendid avi- mal, fell to the young leader as his property, and all congratulated,the boy,apon his marked success, while there was no mourning for Half- | Breed Joe, who, after having been well treated in the settlement, had been caught stealing and driven off. _ He had vowed revenge, but no one had sus- pected his intention to carry it out so cruelly. Soon after this affair, Mr. Middieton, the father of Buckskin Bill, went on atrip to Pike’s Peak, and the boy accompanied him, It was a iong and dangerous expedition, and the experience it gave Buckskin Bill was of the greatest use to him. One day ‘the party on the way came across a , Government train going the same way, and the , conversation around the camp-fire that night turned upon dead-shot shooting. The sergeant in charge of the Government | train, which was going to a frontier fort with stores and recruits, said that he had half a dozen | of the best shots on the border with him. Mr. Middleton, who was in charge of the set- tlers’ expedition, remarked that there were sev- ‘eral good shots in his outfit, and offered to match their best marksman against the crack shot that the sergeant would produce. Bets were at once made, and the next day camp was made earlier than usual, and the two selected marksmen were ordered to get ready. To the surprise of the sergeant and his men, a mere boy was pitted against their crack marks- man, who was an old borderman, The sergeant was at first angry, but Mr. Mid- dleton said: “The money is up on my boy, and if your mah can outshoot him, you win it and we lose, So the range was measured off, and the bor- derman, who was known as ‘‘ Old Never Miss,” fired his half-dozen shots with his rifle, the tar- get chosen being a piece of paper stuck upon a tree, with a bull’s-eye about four inchea in di- ameter. The borderman put the six shots in the bull’s- eye, loading and firing rapidly, and the men of the Government train yelled ‘themselves hoarse with delight. _ Then Mr. Middleton, took the lid of a blacking- box, and halJf-encircling it with his left thumb and finger, held it off at arm’s length, taking his Stand at the tree upon which the target of Old ever Miss was placed. aor g his hand against the tree, he called “Ready, Billy 7 “* You hain’t gwine ter be fool enough to do thet, is yer, pard”” asked Old Never Miss. “ h es ) ? ‘* He’ll shoot yer hand ter pieces,” *¢ 1) risk it,” was the mt response, and load- ing and firing rapidly, Buckskin Bill sent the six bullets at the target. .The sergeant had stood near Mr. Middleton, and took the lid and came rapidly toward the two timekeepers. ‘* What’s his time?” he called out. ** Beats Never Miss a quarter of a minute, ser- geant,” was the answer, ** And he has put every bullet into a space half as small as you did, Never Miss, and with his father holding the target,” was the reply. A yell greeted the words of the sergéant and the old borderman stepped forward and grasped the boy’s hand, while he said: ‘** Leetle pard, I caves, and you is the best I ever tackled, and some day folks will hear o” you as a boss shooter.” Buckskin Bill took his triumph coolly, but he was, at heart, greatly elated over havin beaten the old borderman, whose fame he h heard of. When he returned to the settlement, he at once settled down to school once more, under Parson Green’s teaching, and was looked upon as more than ever a hero, after his trip to Pike's Peak, and having beaten the old frontiersman, Never Miss, in dead-shot shooting. CHAPTER V. THE MIDNIGHT ATTACK, ALTHOUGH he studied hard, Buckskin Bill was always glad of a chance to get away from the settlement, on any expedition in which there was danger to be overcome, and his parents al- ways allowed him to go with a party of settlers, ona grand hunt, or to drive cattle or bring stores by wagon train from the towns, On such an expedition, when acting as one of a guard for a wagon-train, belonging to the storekeeper of the settlement, Buckskin Bill came very hear haviug his life snuffed out with- out warning. : The train consisted of four wagons, drawn by mules, and they were loaded with goods and stores such as were needed in the settlement. The outfit belonged to Hal Rice, the store- keeper, and he was wont to pay a good price for men who would go as a guard for it to and from the town, a distance of two hundred miles. Half a dozen men generally comprised the number, besides the four drivers, and were con- sidered sufficient to protect it against any ordi- nary force of red-skins er outlaw band that might attack it. One of the men was a guide, and a good one, except when he was wont to get upon a spree, and then he became reckless. Buckskin Bill took the idea that he would like to go as a guard, on the next trip of the wagou-train, and he spoke to Hal Rice, the storekeeper, about it and his services were at once engaged with the remark: ‘““Ym more than glad to have you, Billy, for owre as good 4s any man, in my opinion, and in bay you just the same as I do the others, “Then, Billy, study up the trails well, for I don’t think Pilot Pete will be my guide much longer, as he’s getting too lazy and fond of 18 9) and it won’t do to trust him.” So Buckskin Bill went with the “store out- fit,” as the train was called, when it pulled out of the settlement for the distant town. They reached the town all right, took aboard their freight and started on the home trail, But Pilot Pete had begun todrink upon reach» ing the town, and two others of the party had been readily led away to follow his example, The result of this was that the train pulled out for home with Pilot Pete still on a spree, and two of the men were left behind, being un- able to return with the wagons. One of them was a wagon-driver, and Bill had to take his place and drive. Twice did the train cross trails which Pilot Pete said were made by Indiaus on the war- path, and yet, reckless from drink, he togk no care to go on scouts ahead of the party, and at night was more anxious to play cards sround the camp-fire than to stard guard, Buckskin Bill saw that everything was going wrong, for the example of Pilot Pete was de- moralizing in the extreme, and all but two of the men were also drinking. Dan Ellis end Reuben Carter, the two sober men, bad a talk with Buckskin Bij], the first op- portunity they had, and the three decided that they would stand guard at night, for they could appreciate their danger. - ; The train was wont to make from thirty to \ JNA
Page 4
AE OR TE PRTC AIS AG So aA CIES. 4. / y “tf “f hed -) aie - thirty-five miles a day, so that it was a week on the trail returning to the settlement. ; As the party still kept up their carousing, a quantity of liquor having been brought alon by Pilot Pete, after four nights’ watching aid working by day, Buckskin Bill and the two sober men were completely broken down, and thyy had a pretty plain talk with the guide, wi promised that he would not touch another drop to drink for te rest of the way, and would also sober up the others. He also said he would stand guard that night, ‘and worn out-as they were, Buckskin Bill and ed two faithful men were only too glad to seelx, rest, + Had Pilot Pete kept his word all would have gone well; but the moment the trio of faithful — were sleeping soundly, ho left his post of uty, again took to his bottle, a fire was built, in spite of the danger, for the train was in the most dangerous part of the trail jpst then, and carousers began once more to play cards. The fire was shaded from the eyes of the sleep- ers, and, worn out as they were, they did not awaken until wild yells sounded in their ears, followed by shots and cries. : Half-awake, bewildered, and not knowing what was the matter, Buckskin Bill sprung from his blanket and ran like a deer through the timber. It was all that saved him, for, when he col- Iected his scattered senses, and regained his nerves once more, he halted and looked back. ‘The camp-fire was burning brightly, and he saw that there were half a hundred wild Apaches yelling and bounding about like do mons, and that they had slain his comrades ho felt assured. } Without a weapon, he knew not what to do at / But, as the Apaches continued their wild orgies of delight, Buckskin Bill came to the con- clusion that the bes thing for him to do was to re the distance possible between them and mself, So he bounded away in flitht, and did not stop running until he was a mile away on the prairie, Then, tired out, panting, he dropped down to rest and think. ‘““The train is captured and the boys are wi out! ‘There’s no denying that,” he said at last, “Tt’s all Pilot Pete’s fault, too, for he prom- ised to quit drinkirg and stand guard, and now I remember hearing him and the others laughing and playing cards, and seeing the firclight; but I was too sleepy to wake be ‘Well, the Indians waked me up, that’s a fact; but my poor pards are gone—all dead and scalped, that’s sure, ** And [ arn’t so very happy, neither. “My! but didn’t I run!” and the youth ac- tually laughed at his own fright, while half- eep. ‘Nothing to eat, no weapons, no blanket, nothing. ‘I’m in a bad fix, and the sooner I strike for the settlement the better. “ There’s the camp-fire, so let me get my bear- ings, and then I’m off.” e stood for a while re 5 toward the dis- tant camp-fire, before which he saw forms of red-skins constantly moving, and then, having discovered which way he should go, he started off at a trot, anxious to get as far off as possible before day should break, when he feared the In- dians might find his trail and follow it. It was two days after, when half-starved, worn down with tramping, and suffering from the cold nights, that Buckskin Bill is presented to the reader, when the same band of Indians who had attacked the train, and with Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter prisoners, entered the timber motte tocamp for the night, and by so doing sent him hiding up in a tree like a squirrel to es- cape from his ceadly foes. CHAPTER VI, ss AN ~ UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL, Never before in his life, and never since, we will candidly admit, did Buckslin Bill pass such a long night. : - Several times he sang himself dropping off to sleep, and, as he had to constantly balance himself to keep from falling off, he would start at the danger he was in, and keep awake for an hour, when again his heavy eyes would close, and once again he would nearly fall off of his "perch. _ At last,as he was again t, Bill heard the sound of a voice. Instantly he entniees f napping, Buckskin : ——- eee are grt Fee Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. oma his comrade, and saying, in a low me: ‘‘T'm about used up, Pard Dan.” ‘So be 1, for these ropes cut fearful,” was the answer. Several of the red-skins started up at the word, and one arose and hastily examined the bands of the prisoners. But, seeing that they were secure, and had only been talking to each other, the red-skins again laid down and went to sleep. This caused Buckskin Bill to have the idea to speak to the two prisoners, and, stripping off a piece of bark, he dropped it down upon the head of one of the men, At the same time he said in a low tone: ‘* Fist |” The men did not start, even, They were too good bordermen for that. And yet they knew that some one other than a red-skin had uttered the word. They kept their eyes upon the Indians lying near them, and not seeing one of them move, Dan Ellis said, in a tone as though addressing his comrade at his side: “Well, pard?” ‘“*Tt’s me—Buckskin Bill,” came in a hoarse voice, to imitate that of a man. ee Waal, ef I knows whar yer is, durn me,” said Reuben Carter, “Maybe it’s Bill’s ghost, pard,” Dan Ellis added. ‘Not much ghost, you bet; but Buckskin Bill, and I’m going to see what I can do for you, pards,” came from the tree. “Whar is yer, Pard Bill?” ‘*Treed,” was the significant response. Then the chief moved, and silence followed. Soon after the eastern sky grew gray, and, as if by instinct, the red-skins awoke. Those on watch came in and reported no dan- ger near; a fire was built and Buckskin Biil had to again suffer torment with the smell of boiling meat beneath his nose, He felt happy, however, that he bad caused his two comrades ito know that he was near them, and not a prisoner, and he knew that it would mr them hope that he would, as soon as be could, get pursuers on the track of the red- skins. Buckskin Bill had*been my anxious to learn the Indian language, and he had picked up con- siderable Apache, while Comanche he spoke quite well, after his imprisonment among the latter tribe. He heard the Indians discussing their plans, and learned that they meant to go to the south- ward and hunt buffalo for a couple of days, when they would be joined by a larger party, and then go and attack the Comanche village up in the mountains, The buffalo hunting Bucksin Bill found out was but a blind to their intention of a raid upon the Comanche village, and the red-skins then in the timber had simply come ahead as an advanco party to look over the ground, The capture of the store train, killing of some of the men, and capture of Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter, was also discussed with delight, and the mules and horses thus taken they then had with them, loaded down with the plunder of the wagons, the latter having been burned. It was a bitter thing for Bill to see the red- skins feasting off of the provisions taken from the train, and to feel that he was actually starving. He was, however, glad to find out that they had) not suspected his presence with the train, and believed that they had killed and captured the entire outfit, F ** You've got me up atree, but I’m all right so far,” muttered the youth. Then he added, as he saw that they gave the two prisoners only a small piece of buffalo-meat apiece: “Oh, you stingy varmints.” It was just daybreak when the party left the motte, greatly to the boy’s delight, for he knew that he could not hope to escape being seen in the glare of the sunlight, He thought he saw both Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter look up toward his perch and then say something to each other; but he kept ve to the limb of the tree, and watched the de- parture of the red-skins with a delight he had never experienced at any event that had hap- pened in his life before. Hardly had the last red-skin departed, when Buckskin Bill began to descend from the tree, He was ravenous with hunger and h to find some scraps left by the Indians ich he could eat, though he was aware tha a t they were | a Fa ae which generally, so to speak, “‘licked the | |“ It was the voice of one of the prisoners ad- platter clean.” ae bi ‘ saad 5 ORLA RO et: tse = = “Snakes and goblins! I’m in luck,” he cried,. as he beheld a bow leaning against the tree, and: a quiver of arrows hanging to it. hen he spied several pieces of buffalo-meat lying near the fire, which was dying out, and he threw them upon the coals, being hardly able to wait until they were cooked, so hungry was he.. ‘Lordy! I’m done for,” he suddenly cried, as: he heard a voice behind him, and turning, be- held an Inian brave, belaboring his pony for Poa ton with him, as he came riding toward e fire, —_——- ' CHAPTER VII. BUCKSKIN BILL’S LUCK, Buckskin BiLu, when he first beheld the mounted warrior, coming like a phantom horse- man through the gloom of early morning, sup- posed that he had at his back the entire band, which a quarter of an hour before had left the motte. The stumbling of the Indian’s pony had caused him to utter an impatient imprecation upon the animal, in his best style of red-skin anathemas, little dreaming that his voice reached other ears, while his attention to the horse prevented his: seeing Buckskin Bill’s sudden spring behind the: tree. The broiling of the buffalo beef did not seem suspicious to the red-skin either, when the scent reached his olfactories, as the braves were wont to toss their well-picked bones and leavings into. the fire. ; It took Buckskin Bill just a second to gain the: shelter of the tree, another to glance out through: the timber and discover that the horseman was: alone, and a third to understand why the brave had returned. “He wants his bow and arrows which he left here. ‘*T won’t be mean, for he shall have one of the arrows,” he muttered, and ere the warrior had ridden three lengths of his horse, the youth had fixed au arrow to the bow and bad it aimed. A moment more and the red-skin was almost upon the boy, and then the arrow, drawn back with all the strength of his arm, was let go. Buckskin Bill’s aim was for the throat, to kill instantly and to shut off a war-cry that might. be heard by the others, hardly more than a mile away. The arrow-head, sent true to aim, was buried in the Indian’s neck, and, hardly had it touched the flesh ere Buckskin Bull, witb a spring like a. panther upon its prey, was out from behind the tree and had seized tho bridle-rein. The pony, startled by the sudden appearance,. reared wildly, and his red-skin rider fell heavily’ to the ground. 9 But Buckskin Bill held on to the pony like grim death, and his voice soon quieted the ani- mal, » Making him fast to a tree, the brave youth at. once stepped to the side of the fallen Indian, who was p os there was no doubt ofthat. The arrow had pierced the jugular vein and the war- rior had not known what killed him, For a moment the boy stood in an attitude of meditation, and he looked down upon the red- skin with an air of regret. x ‘‘ He'd have killed me, if I hadn’t shot him,” he mused, asif to palliate his act in his own mind. : The bra¥e was a small man, with painted face; he carried a knife in his belt, his bow an arrow having been left beside the tree, and thus: cost him his Tite in returning to get them. The day had now dawned and the east was- getting rosy-hued under the sun, and the youth, gazed eagerly abo t him. : It did not take him at long to make up his. mind, as to what he should do, and gathering up his broiled steaks he hastily thrust them into a pouch which the red-skin carried, and which. already held some provisions taken from the | store train. Then he tied up the neck of the Indian, to pre- _ vent the dripping of the blood, and raising the Lee 7) Pi cteuree arms, threw ck of the pony. ve a stand ce ee gos were then effaced, and springing np on the skin Bill r e out of the timber, taking . trail by which the band of red-skins had come the evening before, 5° as to have the tracks of his horse confused with the others. Not a sign of a red-skin was seen upon the prairie, and Buckskin Bill on at a trot along the trail until he came toa poe heavil timbered, and around the base of Ww: ch woun: t across the back of the pony Buck- — : po the:
Page 5
Eee hy SED OS. a Buckskin Bill, the Gomanché Shadow. ‘the body into the water, having first borrowed his blanket and knife. The current carried the dead Indian swiftly away, and the youth remarked: é “T thought tnis would be better than burying a ‘him or leaving him in the motte for those who vi might come looking for him to find, B “Now I guess I’ve thrown ’em off my trail; ‘but TP'll give them another riddle to guess, if ‘they should track the pony this far. **Come, Red-skin, you must swim for it.” As he spoke he turned the head of the pony down-stream and the animal was borne swiftly 3 aah ae ter quite a long swim he went to one side ‘where the water was shallow and rested his , pony, and then again continued his swimming. This he repeated several times util he had left the fort a mile behind him, and. then he rode ashore at a point where the hard nature of the ground would leave no track, Dismounting, after a short ride, he gave the pony arest, while he ate the breakfast he had been so longing for, and was delighted to find some crackers in the Indian’s buekskin pouch. Having satisfied his hunger and taken a drink of the cold water from the stream, Buckskin Bill muttered: “Now for the Comanche village, and 1 guess they won’t kill me when they know the news [ ring. apes But Dan and Reuben must be saved, and I could never reach the settlement in time, while the settlers would not Gare pursue the Apaches into their own country. ‘**No, I must risk the Comanches, that is my _ only chance. ‘* And here goes.” Away went the pony at a canter, the youth knowing just which way lay the Comanche village, which he boldly intended to visit, in ; his endeavor to save his two comrades, Dan fi Ellis and Reuben Carter from the Apaches. ae ; “Tt may be out of the frying-pan into the / ‘fire for the boys; but I’m going to risk it, even if they nab me too.” 4 And the brave youth pressed rapidly on, the captured pony proving an uncommonly good animal, which caused the youth to congratulate himself over and over again on the good luck which had fallen upon him. ’ CHAPTER VIII. : IN THE LION'S DEN. In his many wanderings about the country, : Buckskin Bill had learned pretty well the ar; points of the compass, where the settlements 2 day and the situation of the Indian villages. Ho also knew the hunting-grounds of both the i Apaches and Comanches, and was, therefore, ; well able to avoid any ordinary danger that ieee beset his path. : : ehad decided, and wisely, that if he wen to the settlements for aid, the fate of Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter ,would be sealed, for the Apaches would have ample time to get back to their villages, and once there no hope could there be for their prisoners. “e So Buckskin Bill came to the conclusion to strike with all speed for the Comanche vil- e, ‘If I can make it a case of Kilkenny cats, Tm all right,” was his argument, referring to the fact that the Comanches and Apaches would . fight it out among themselves, Having thrown the Apaches off his trail, or “tried to do so, he had gotten rid of the body of -thebrave he had killed, and found himself, from - half-starved, tired, unarmed and on foot, with a 00d horse, plenty to eat and a bow and arrows, _- while what he had in view prevented him from autigy os: ing his fatigue. iO well had he covered up all signs of the _ struggle in the motte, that he did not much fear _. pursuit by the Apaches, who, seeing the tracks of the pony, might think their comrade had _ gone off alone for some reason, or perhaps. his horse had gotten away from him and he had - pursued on foot, ‘That they would scent out the truth, Buckskin ill did not believe, ___ So on he pressed toward the Comanche village, _ where for nearly half a year he had lived asa 7 captive, some two years before. was after nightfall when he entered the untain range 12 which the village of the tmself were ve ve ‘pony into the stream up to his neck, he tumbled Comanches was located, and both his pony and } "hte ¥ tired, for he had pushed on knew the outposts had been located when he was a captive there, The warriors were many of them scattered about among the mountains, but there was a goodly number present, and they were gathered around the eamp-fires, smoking and telling of wondrous deeds performed. Straight up to the council-fire, built near the tepee of the head chief, Fire Eyes, rode Buckskin Bill. His hands were held above his head, and as he halted his pony with a word, every warrior was upon his feet in an instant. Having come to a halt, Buckskin Bill quietly surveyed the amazed Comanches, who looked as though one and all of them were about to spring forward and tear him from his pony. “The pale-face boy!” yelled Fire Eyes in a voice of thunder. ** Yes, [am your pale-face boy captive, Red ‘Scalp, as you called me, and I have come back to your village,” replied Buckskin Bill in the Comanche tongue. ‘You left my village and my people. Why have you come back to die?” asked Fire Eyes, waving back the braves who seemed to desire to tear the brave boy limb from limb. **T have not come back to die, but to keep the Comanches from dying. There is danger com- ing upon them.” The Indians started at this, amd Fire Eyes told the youth to dismount. He did so, and approaching the fire, coolly sat down before it, remaining silent. Fire Eyes sat by his’ side, and another great chief, Iron Arm, squatted upon the other side. Then the warriors took seats in the circle around the fire. - More wood was thrown on, and every basilisk eye was upon the daring white boy, who had thus invaded their village. Holding out his hand for Fire Eyes’s pipe, which the chief held, Buckskin Bill took a whiff or two, with the intention of showing the Co- manches that he was upon a mission of peace. A grunt of satisfaction followed at this, and the pipe was passed around in silence. For some time no word was spoken, and im- patient though he was to tell all he knew, Buck- skin Bill was determined to show the Indians tHat he knew red-skin etiquette, and some fifteen minutes had passed, after his taking a seat at the fire, before he opened his mouth to say why it was he had so fearlessly returned into the den of lions, CHAPTER IX, A FORCED COMPACT. BUCKSKIN Bru knew that he had a dangerous task before him. That the red-skins felt unkindly toward him for having escaped from their village, he was well aware. \: The failure of the party in their attack on the schoo]-house, was also attributed to him, for he had been recognized by several of the young braves when he dashed out of the school-house with the boys at his back. Now, to venture back into their clutches was a thing to do, and looked like defiance of em. “The Red Scalp is ready to speak,” said Bill, after awhile, he having been so named by the Comanches on account of his red hair. ‘The Fire Eyes and his braves will hear,” responded the chief, who had taken quite a fancy to the boy when he was his captive. “A train of my people was going to their homes, and it was attacked by a band of Apaches, the bitter foes of the Comanches. “Two pale-face braves were captured, but the | Red Scalp escaped, ; ‘The two pale-faces are the prisoners of the Apaches, and if the Fire Eyes, the Iron Arm and their warriors, will say that my two com- rades can go free, the Red Scalp will fill their belts with Apache scalps, and their corrals with the horses of their foes.” “Can the Red Scalp do this? asked Iron Arm. “The Red Scalp talks straight!” replied Buck- skin Bill. “He is but a boy, a pappoose,” Iron Arm said with a sneer. “Yet he escaped from the Comanche village, and he has been on the war-trail,” the youth re- | ‘ Before two suns.” ‘How can he?” “Will thy re Eyes set the two comrades of let me go, too. ae es : . So he doubled the force of the Apaches te the Red Scalp free, to return to their people giving them their weapons and their ponies, an let the Red Scalp go too?” A silence fell upon the party for awhile, and then the chief asked: ; ‘What is it the Red Scalp is to do?” “*Save the Comanches from the Apaches, and ambush their foes so that many, if not all, must die, and their scalps, their arms and ponies wilj belong to the braves of the Fire Eyes.” “The Red ia co spoken, and my warriors have heard!” the Fire Eyes said. All nodded assent. “What says the lron Arm?” ** The pale-tace young man talks with a crooked tongue.” ““Why has the Red Scalp come to your vil- laze, if it was to speak with a crooked tongue?” Buckskin Bill quickly responded. “No. The Red Scalp could have stayed away,” continued the youth, seeing that his question had told on the warriors. ‘“He need not have come to the Comanche village, to warn them of danger, but remained away and let the Apaches destroy them. “He need not have risked his life to save the two pale-face captives, but Jet them die. “The Red Scalp was a mere boy when he came here a captive. ‘** You were good to him, and yet he longed toc see his home, his people, his mother and fa- ther. : “Tears came to his heart, for them, and one night he left your village. ‘He now comes back to tell you of danger, to ask you to save yourselves, your squaws and pappooses, and to let two captives of the Apaches go free, and you say that he speaks with a crooked tongue.’ This speech of Buckskin Bill had been deliy- ered in masterly style. » He had risen from where he was seated an had appealed to the circle of warriors with his earnest words, gestures and words. They were deeply impressed, and the Fire Eyes said: ““My warriors have hearts, ‘Let the Red Scalp remain here, and if bis tongue proves crooked, he will die. “Tf his tongue is straight, then his white braves can go, but he will remain. “He must become a young Comanche brave, or die.” So spoke Iron Arm, and the nods of assent that were seen on all sides told Buckskin Bill that his words met the views of nearly all of the warriors. ‘“The Red Scalp has heard—what says hef’ So asked Fire eyes. ‘The Red Scalp will remain in the Comanche village, until his words are proven straight. “‘Then he wishes to go with his tevo white brothers.” ; \ ‘“His two white brothers can go; but be must remain,” returned Fire Eyes, who was anxious to make a Comanche brave out of the daring white youth. . Buckskin Bill saw that he was in a pickle. He knew that he could not gain his point a and so he decided to accept the terms of- ered, He concluded that if he could get Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter free, he would be able to make his escape, as he had done once before, when he was much ‘aden er. “Til make ’em believed I’m tickled nearly to death over staying,” he said, and be replied: “The Red Scalp has heard what the great chief of the Comanches has said. “ He will remain with the Fire Eyes and his people; but the tongue of the Fire Eyes is straight and he will let the two pale-face braves of” ae, " “The Fire Eyes has a straight tongue,” was the reply. ** Now let the Red rege tell the warriors of the Comanches all that he knows.” Then Buckskin Bill told how he had been in the timber and heard all that the Apaches had said about going to their hunting-grounds and pretending to hunt until other bands of their raves joined them, when they would make a night-ride upon the village of the Comanche: flanking it, and attacking from an unexp quarter, l The Comanches grew very unessy under this story of the youth, and all ‘looked toward Fire ‘yes to see the effect u ; words “Pl just pile on the agony, and maybe they.
Page 6
what he supposed they really were, and then, to prove himself worthy of the rank of a warrior, suggested plans for meeting the enemy. ome of the braves were in favor of marching forth and fighting the Apaches upon the prairie, so they could not get near their village; but Buckskin Bill’s suggestion was, as they knew from what quarter to expect them, to place a party of braves to close in after they had passed, and then to ambush their foes at some desirable spot, where they would be caught wholly at a disadvantage, between two fires, and taken also by surprise. In this way many would be killed, others cap- tured, and few would be able to escape, while their horses would fall to the victors. This plan Fire Eyes considered the best, and he at once set to work to organize his bands of braves, telling Buckskin Bill that he must go with him, and if he attempted to escape he would be killed, Buckskin Bill coolly informed him that he had no idea of attempting to escape, and leaving his two comrades in his hands, while, if the prison- ers, Eliis and Carter, were harmed, after the pled eof the Comanche chief to protec t them, the Great Spirit would be very angry with him and his people. This served to impress Fire Eyes, who at once warned his braves not to make any mistake and kill the, two white captives of the Apaches. Then the braves separated to prepare for the reat battle to be fought, and the Comanche vil- age was a scene of wild excitement, while Buck- skin Bill coolly lay down in Fire Ey es’s tepee and went to sleep, CHAPTER X. AWAITING THE ORDEAL, Wuen Buckskin Bill awoke the sun was up, for he had been so thoroughly exhausted after all that he had passed through, that an Indian ’ war-cry over him would not have aroused him Old Fire Eyes ordered his ig uaws to give the youth a g breakfast, which he ate witha relish, The squaws and the youngsters in the village looked upon him with suspicion, for they had not forgotten the ship he had given them when he had escaped, and they could not understand that he had preferred to go back to his pale-face people, to living with them. e packaan Bill soon discovered that the squaws and children not alone had their eyes upon him, for the warriors also kept him under their ob- servation. The village was a large one, and securely situ- ated against attack. Still, a fos, whose coming was not heralded could get in readily through the canyons, and. lay it waste in a very short while. uring the day all the stock belonging to the Comanches was driven to safe places, and the best animals were selected by the braves for their use in the battle that was to be foucht. The squaws and children had a frightened look, but the warriors seemed confident sof vic- tory, though many liked not the idea of a battle so near home. They would have preferred a lesser victory further off, where, in case of defeat, there was not a chance for the destruction of their village. When night drew near, the separate bands sof warriors mounted their horses and rode slowly out of the village, The women and children were strangely quiet for all seemed to realize the sad importance of the occasion. Had the braves been starting forth on a raid, they would have been sent off with shouts of re~ . joicing; but this intended fight was to beat back 10es, and all seemed to feel “the influence of the hour. tron Arm and a hundred braves had been se- lected to close in on the rear of the Apaches, and Fire Eyes, with\double that number, was ambushed in a narrow valley through which the enemy must pass, Then there were two smaller bands, of twenty warriors each, stationed on cither flank to come down and at ttack the Apaches, after the firs stroke had been delivered. in the rear of Fire Eyes, near the entrance to tthe village, was the old medicine ¢ hiet’, Death- . Killer, w ith: the aged men, and the boy S$, as a ; reserve. The women and children sat in silence back in . the village, awaiting the dread ordeal. Buekskin Bill had gone with Fite Eyes, an! he - was much elated at the prospect of witnessing an ‘indian battle. ‘ T's dog eat dog, as father says,” he mutter- ed, and he took a position’ where e would be able to see all that happened, Bo cee | Oene Rt Duh eee ee ee Bill, the Comanche Shadow. The moon was rising when all were in position a the Comanches were all ready for the com- of their foe, ot a sound was hearé, for the horses had been muzzled, to prevent their neighing, and were back in the timber, ready for the pursuit, when the Apaches should be defeated. The Apaches, so Buckskin Bill had stated, from what he had heard, would bring half a thousand warriors, so the would outnumber the fighting force of Fire Eyes, though the reserve, under Death-Killer, would make them about equal. Still, Death-Killer was over three-score years, and those under him were even older, many of them, or boys ranging from ten to ‘fifteen, Se) much could not be expected of them as fighters, though they might beat back a foe who did not know what the y were, Midnight passed and still no sound came to show that an enemy was approaching. Several miles away an outpost of four braves had been stationed, and from their point of ob- servation a view-over the prairie for quite a distance could be had. When the Apaches appeared, these braves were to at once run with all speed to communi- cate the intelligence to Iron Arm, Fire Eyes and the two flanking parties, Daylight was : about two hours away, when the four braves sighted a dark mass moving over the level plain. It grew larger and larger, and was coming di- rectly tow: ard the point where they stood. They were cool scouts, and they remained long enough to comment upon the probable force of the enemy, and then they darted away like the wind to communicate what they had seen. Then every brave nerved himself for the com- ing struggle, and Buckskin Bill muttered: ty guess I’ll get even on the Apaches now for capturing our outfit and killing poor Pilot Pete and the other boys.” CHAPTER XI. THE BATTLE OF THE RED-MEN. Tur Apaches came on at a brisk walk of their nies. They had so cleverly covered up their idea of attack, that they had no reason to suspect that they could not sur prise the Comanche village. Their band of half a hundred warriors had been hunting, to cover up their intention, and also they had gotten a supply of food for the force on the march. These also had come upon the store-train from the settlement, capturing it, killing Pilot Pete and his carousing comrades, and making pris- oners of Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter. The two i tad had said nothing about Buckskin Bill, and, im fact, until he had hailed them from the tree, had supposed him dead, also killed by the Apaches. After knowing to the contrary, they gained hope, for they knew that the youth was not one to let them die if in his power to pre- vent it. How he meant to save them they could not of course know, but supposed it w ould be by rid- ing to the nearest fort, or the settlement, for help, and ) tool suing the Apaches. As the Apaches meant to stay in that ey for several days, they hoped that this would be successful, and neither borderman was ready to say die until the time came when all hope was rone. e One by ohe the bands of Apaches came to the vicinity where those who were hunting had formed their camp; but they went into hiding until ail should have arrived. The Comanches had several times gotten the better of the Apaches, and now it was the in- tention of old Thunder Face, the great chief, to strike back, and to make it a aeath-blow, The two "captives were not treated well by their captors. They were kept tied day and night, and little food was given them, the cruel savages looking upon it as a waste of provender to feed men that must soon die. Upon their return to their village with Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter, together with scores of Comanche prisoners, Thunder Face and his braves meant to have a splendid time putting their captives to death. It was just after dark that the Apaches came to a halt, some ten miles from the Comanche Villages. The ponies were watered and staked out for food aa rest, and the warriors lay down to get what repose they could for a few hours, After midnight, all were aroused, and, like a great black smoke, they went winding over the: prairies toward the mountains. As they neared the mountain passes, they be- gan to close up, from single file to two Re ere rela (a wc eis] gen cic ie then four, and, at last, ten riding side by side. As there were half a thousand of them, this: made a solid body of horsemen fifty deep and ten in width, all riding slowly along to dash into the Comanche village. In their midst were the two prisoners, and the mules of the train, loaded down with the plunder taken from the wagons. About these were a guard of several red- skins, who had been wounded by the attacks on the train, and whose ag | it would be, in the attack on the village, to keep the pack-animals together, and not allow Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter to escape. Little dreaming of danger, the Apache column passed the canyon, in which were hidden: the warriors under Iron Arm. A spy was watching, and hardly had the = 9ac ei gotten three bundr red yards away en Iron Arm and his braves drew in behind tien. Spies were also watching on either flank to ost the two parties there stationed, and the aie drawn-out howl, in perfect imitation of a mountain wolf, warned Fire Eyes that the enemy was at hand, A short while after the moonlight revealed the dark mass of men and ponies coming slowly on toward him. In those days few firearms were to be found among the wild tribes of Indians, and the Comanches were ’most all of them armed with: bows and arrows, and, a custom which they had gotten from the Mexicans, was to also carry & spear, or lance. When the Apaches had, therefore, advanced close up to the ambushed Comanches, the first. sin, they had of danger was a whirring sound, as of many hundreds of wings in the air, and a score of ponies and warriors went down under that first flight of arrows. Loud then rung out the war-cries of the Comanches, and the Apaches, taken wholly by surprise, were for & moment completely de- moralized. Then their chief, Thunder Face, commanded a charge, and they rode hard down upon the ambushed Fire Eyes and his braves. But, from the rocks and trees flew such a shower of arrows, with here and there the re- port of a revolver or rifle, that the Apaches: were checked and fell back. But then came the fire upon them, from the flanking parties, who advanced with rapid pace, and this seemed to add greater consternation, which ended in dismay w Tron Arm and his: braves closed in on their rear. Thunder Face was an able commander. He saw that his coming was known, from some mysterious cause, and that he was pre- pared for, Before him he knew that the greater force must be, to protect the village, and the lesser one in the rear. It was a complete repulse, and all he could do. was to save the men he had by a retreat, and hope for revenge at another time, Loud then rung bis orders, to gather the killed and wounded together and make a dash back the way they had come, This they were preparing to do, when Fire Eyes charged with his force, and Iron Arm closed up with his braves, while the flankers also rushed down izito the valley. It was hoped that the whole Apache band could thus be taken. But Thunder Face arose in his majesty just here, and decided that the dead and dy ing must be left, if the living wished to get away. So he culle d to his braves to rally about him, and with wild yells they charged down over Iron Arm and his warriors. The red avalanche could not be checked, end Thunder Face and two-thirds of his warriors rushed over Iron Arm and his braves, Men went down, horses fell, arrovs flew, lances were shattered, and yells, war-whoops, death-cries and the neighing of irightened horses filled the air. It was an appalling scene, a moment of hor- ror, and then the Apaches swept away down the mountain passes. Comanches mounted in hot haste and pur- sued, and then the battle-field was left. to the dead and dying. A moan here and there from some brave In- dian suffering anguish, the ery, cf a wounded mustang, and a wild, startling death-cry, or yell of defiance as some warrior felt life slipping away from him, Such was the scene that the moon shone dow upon, after the battle of the red-men.
Page 7
Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. | 7 SS SS SSS SSS SSS SSS SSS SSS ssa mm CHAPTER XII. IN SUSPENSE. From his point of lookout Buckskin Bill had seen the battle, though he had not been an actor therein. He had seen skirmishes, had beheld men die, but never had he dreamt of what an Indian battle would be, and he stood almost appalled at the sight. Fire Eyes had called out to him to follow, when they had rushed out upon the Apaches, and he had done so. Tn the heat of victory Fire Eyes had forgotten all about him. But Buckskin Bill was thoroughly awake to the situation. The deai and the dying were about him, horses and men lay in heaps, but he was looking for the prisoners. As the mass of horsemen swept on, Buckskin Bill beheld a group of horses huddled together, and the moonlight revealed two mounted men. se Ho, Dan! ho, Reuben!” shouted Buckskin ill. The prisoners had been unwilling spectators of the combat. They had heard the arrows flying about them, and Reuben Carter’s horse had been slightly wounded, while Dan Ellis had been slightly clipped in the shoulder, hen the Apaches turned in flight, their 7. had become struck with a panic and had eserted them, while the pack-mules, in alarm, had huddled close about them. “Pard Dan, ef we only had our arms free, we could skip now pretty lively,” said Reuben Carter. “Yas, but as it is we will get took by ther cowards, and it’s a case 0’ out o’ fryin’-pan inter fire,” replied Dan. “Yas, but we is done fer, as we can’t guide our horses with our arms tied, and we’d likely starve, ‘“We is in a bad fix, I tells yer. “But, Lordy! how them Apachesis a-goin’,and hain’t ther Comanch’ everlastin’ly a-racin’ ’em?” Just then came the calling of their names by Buckskin Bill. The two men looked at each other in a startled way, and Dan Ellis said in a whisper: ©) tell yer, pard, thet boy is dead, and thet it is his ghost a-callin’ us, for it’s Bill’s voice.” ‘‘Leastwise it sounds so, Dan.” Where are you, Dan, and Reuben?” As Buckskin Bill called out, he came running toward the spot where the two prisoners were seated upon their horses among the pack-mules, ** Here we is, Pard Billy, what is left of us,” replied Reuben Carter, while Dan Ellis said: ie guess it’s ther boy and not his ghost arter all. A moment more and Buckskin Bill dashed up to them, But there were a dozen Comanches at_ his back, who had not joined in the chase of the Apaches. ’ ‘Ho, Dan, and you, Reub, I'm glad to see you, and I guess you'll get free all right, so cheer up, as Fire Eyes has promised to set you free,” said Bill, walking up to the two. men, while the braves encircled them and looked on, “What in thunder is you doing here, Pard Billy?’ asked Dan. *‘ [ll tell you, pards,” and the youth told all that had happened to him, since he had run away from the train when half asleep, and how he had decided, when seeing them in the hands of the Apaches and learning of the intevtion of Thunder Face to attack the Comanche village, to risk everything to try and save them. “You is a noble lad, Billy Middleton, and Pll stand by you until jedgment,” said Dan Ellis. “Pm with yer, pard, fer Billy hes done more than a squar’ thing fer us; but I’m afeer’d it are no use, as Comanches is all-fired liars.” “But they won't let me go, though they will ou. ** Pm to stay and become a Comanche brave, you understand, and you must so tell my folks, when you get back.” * Yes, we'll tell ’em, when we gits back; but we hain’t goin’ and leave you here, Buckskin and you kin jist gamble on it.” ‘ “Why not, for you can go now, or when Fire Byes says so, and i will stay bere— until I can get away,” and Bill added the last_in a whisper, fearing there might be some Indian listening who could understand English, “T sees, Buckskin, and I guesses it’s about eae on phing i ean be did; but when is we ter be let go, for these ro hurtin’ me con- rable ata OR Bi es will soon return and then Mikttkak witha ‘“ But now I'll ask these braves to take you to Death-Killer, the medicine chief, and maybe he will let them untie you.” Buckskin Bill then asked the braves stand- ing about to take the prisoners to Death-Killer, an‘ they did so, But old Death-Killer was in ill humor. He had hoped for the scalps of all of the Apaches, and was told that only about three score had been taken, with hope of a few more during the chase. Buckskin Bill bad been under his care when a captive in the village, and the old medicine chief had found him more anxious to go hunting and fishing with the Indian boys, than to ac- company the squaws when gathering roots, herbs and flowers or the rude medicines he concocted. Buckskin Bill had often felt the weight of the old man’s stick, when handing him a poison root instead of one that had medicinal qualities. Still, he had sorely missed the boy when he had escaped, and now looked daggers at him when he came and asked that the two prisoners of the Apaches should be relieved of their bonds, The youth begged, but Death-Killer would not listen, and ended by letting Buckskin Bill feel the weight of his stick. “ Don’t git the old varmint mad, Billy, for we kin stand it,” urged Dan. ‘Yes, for if yer hadn't ’a’ dodged that blow with yer head, it would hev knocked yer silly,” Reuben Carter added. “Lordy, I don’t mind that, for I got used to them when I was here long ago. “T nearly poisoned him by mistake one day by putting some poison bark into the pot where he was making sassafras tea. “He thought it was sassafras, and drank a swallow of it before he found it out.” “Then I caught it, I can tell you; but wait until Fire Eyes comes and he'll keep his word to me,” said Buckskin Bill. Old Death Killer had eyed him sharply while he was spealing to the two prisoners about him, though he did not know what he was saying. But he shook his head ominously and Buck- skin Bill laughed while he said: ‘“*T hope he won’t want to make me a medicine- ong as he intended to when I was here be- ore. “Tm a-thinkin’ you won’t stay ter git yer diplomy as a Injun Doctor, Billy,” Dan Ellis said with a laugh. ‘‘No, give him a dose o’ his own harbs and skip.” growled Reuben Carter. here was no sleeping that night in the Indian village, for it had by no means been a battle in which the Apaches had alone suffered for a number of Comanches had also been killed and wounded, and the women and children were howling inan appalling manner over their dead husbands and fathers. The scalps of the slain Apaches had been taken, and every wounded Apache had been slain and also scalped, so that between sorrow and hatred for their foes, the village of the Comanches had become a perfect pandemon‘um, As for the two prisoners, and Buckskin Bill, | they could but await the morrow, and the re- turn of Fire Eyes, to see what was in store for them, and they made the best of a bad situation by trying to sleep, for Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter had been taken from their homes and placed ina tepee to await the coming of the chief. s CHAPTER XIII. THE PLEDGE OF A COMANCHE. THE defeat and punishment of the Apaches, under Thunder Fire, their greatest chief, was coimplete and severe, All knew that it was from having their in- tended attack made known to the Comanches, which enabled them to prepare for their re- ception and ambush them. Once they had started in flight, they were soon rallied by their chief and faced to'form a compact mass, and this the Comanches could not break. Several desperate charges were made by Fire Eyes upon the retreating Apaches, and the horses of the latter being fresh, while those of their foes were well worn down, and also know- ing every foot of the country, the advantage was with the Comanches, in spite of the superior number of their enemies, en, too, the Apaches had been defeated when they had hoped for a grand victory, and were greatly demoralized. Here and there an Apache would fall, and his comrades be unable to save him, A The Apache never scalps his dead enemy, and the Comanche could therefore, by doing) so, sag a harvest of red trophies. aving driven their foes across the river, the Comanches, leaving but a small force to trouble them, set off on their return to the village. Their dead and wounded were brought with them, and when in the afternoon Fire Eyes and his horses appeared, there was a commingled howl of rage, sorrow, end triumph. The victorious braves were greeted with shouts of welcome, while the dead were mourn- ed for most boisterously and their hatred for their enemies found venti in savage cries. ‘“‘' They is worse than a lunatic asylum turned loose for a picnic,” said Dan Ellis. ‘‘ They is clean crazy, that’s a fact. “But now we'll know what is ter be did with us.” Reuben Carter responded. Just then Fire Eyes came toward the tepee, and Iron Arm was with him. The latter had a wound upon his head, which Death-Killer had been dressing for him, and he was in an angry mood, as his face showed. Buckskin Bill came out of the tepee as they approached, and said, addressing the two Chiefs: “Tid the Red Sealp speak straight, when he told the Fire Eyes that the Apaches were coming to his village?” “Yes, the Red Scalp has a straight tongue. ‘“ Are these the comrades of the Red Scalp?” asked Fire Eyes. “Yes, and they suffer from the cords upon their feet and hands. ‘‘ Will the great chief not see them free, as he has promised?” Just then, and before Fire Eyes could reply, Iron Arm spoke up quickly with: “The Iron Arm knows these men, they are the bitter foes of the Comanches.” ‘Did the Iron Arm expect to find them his brothers?” asked Buckskin Bill, while Dan Ellis, who had a smattering knowledge of the Comanche tongue said: ‘‘Reub, things looks bad for us.” ‘‘The pale-face braves are the foes.of my people,” Fire Eyes said, fixing his piercing gaze upon the two prisoners, “You bet we hain’t in love with yer,” Dan Ellis responded, and-received a warning look from Buckskin Bill, who then said: “The pale-faces are’the friends of the Co- manche, for has not the Red Scalp saved their village from the Apaches? ‘But the Comanches are the foes of the pale- faces, and will not bury the tomahawk.” “The Red Scalp can stay; his life can be spared, but the two braves of his eg should die,” and Iron Arm glanced at Fire Lyes. ‘The chief seemed ill at ease. He had given his word to Red Scalp, and yet be loved blocdshed too well to let the two men he now held in bis power escape bim, What could he do but break his word. Both Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter were re- eognized now, by scores of Comanche braves who gathered around them, as men who had had been the deadly foes of their tribe. They bad seen t! em in battle, and in the settle- ments, when beating hack Comanches that raid- ed the houses of the settlers Many a Comanche had failed to return from a hunt, or a war-trail, and the two bordermen were known to haye prevented some of them from doing s°. Now they stood before them, bound, helpless, prisoners, and only the presence of their chief protected them. The thoughts of the red-skins seemed to be fullv read by Buckskin Pill and the two scouts. The youth had acted for the best; be had taken the only course to save the two men, and he hal trusted in the honor of an Indian, Was the chief going to fail him? Tt certainly looked so, and angry at the treachery of Fire Eyes, he said earnestly: ‘The Red Scalp is but.a boy in years, ‘* He is hardly old enough to be a young brave} but he came to the village of the Fire Eyes to warn his red friends of their foes coming to at- tack them. ‘Te risked his life to come, and all he asked was that his two pale-face brothers should go free, ‘The Comanche braves did not capture my two brothers. ‘ j “They risked not their lives to bring them ere, “But they got them when their hands and feet were tied. “They got with them pack-mules, Apache nies, blankets, arms and many scalps, and the Red Scalp only asks that his two brothers be set
Page 8
. ie =" 4 + He had to go into free, and be allowed to return to their people. The Red Scalp will stay with his red brothers. ‘¢ He has spoken.” The Fire Eyes and his warriors had not moved during the earnest appeal of the youth. Now, when he finished, the chief was about tos when Dan Hilis said: “Pard Billy, don’t make em mad with. you, ot you've done your duty to us, and no mis- ce, “Yes, let em kill us, fer I hain’t heerd 0’ a man hevin’ two times ter die,” Reuben Carter eee he chief knew not what was said; but he turned to Buckskin Bill and said sternly: ‘The pale-face braves are the foes of my ople. thoi hands are red with the blood of my raves, “* They must die,” CHAPTER XIV. THE DEATH GANTLET, ‘ At the words of Fire Eyes Buckskin Bill was about to make some hasty reply when Dan Bllis said quickly: “Don’t make it wuss for us, Billy.” Hee youth checked himself, and then he re- ed: e “Oh, my pards! if I had only suspected this I would have acted difierently. “But I believed the chief would keep his word,” “You has got your idee of Injuns from books, Billy, and it’s strange thet yer hev, as yer was raised ym em. ‘No, no, Injuns is born liars and cut-throats —it’s the’r religin,” Reuben Carter said. Angry at the talking of the scouts which he did not understand, Fire. Eyes called to Buck- skin Bill to follow him, and left seven men to see to the safety of the prisoners, until they were needed for the sacrifice.. Without a word Buckskin Bill obeyed. His heart was full of trouble, but his brain was busy plotting. He would do all in his power to save the two men. Before going to the tepee of the chief he beg- ged him again to let the scouts go. But Fire Eyes was firm. Then the youth tried the cupidity of the man, and promised him a vast quantity of presents, | if be would release them. The chief would not believe the youth, when _ he promised to go to the settlements and return with them. . “The pale-face foes of my people must die,” he said ever and over again. Buckskin Bill was almost in despair. Just then old ‘Death-Killer came to the tepee of Fire Eyes. The Death-Killer held great power. He was the ruler of the village, as it were, while Fire Eyes was the chief of the warriors. Death-Killer’s long hair was snow-white, and this added to his influence among his people. He was vot much over threescore, but yet his form was bent, his limbs feeble and his voice wa “The Death-Killer is welcome,” said Fire Eyes, rising as the old medicine chief entered. ‘The Fire Eyes is a great brave. “ - man. “The Apaches fled like leaves before the wind from my braves,” boastfully replied the Fire yes. : And the Fire Eyes took two prisoners from the Apaches?” said Death- Killer. -“T thought that was what old Roots and “Herbs, was coming to,” muttered Buckskin ae the two pale-faces are foes to my peo Gs ~ “They should die.” was the response. * And the Red Scalp?” «Does the great medicine chief, Death-Killer, And the Fire Byes was in hopes of a negative reply, for he wish the Red Scalp in his tepee?” “wished the youth for his especial use, |» Phe Fire Eyes has spoken. lot had not been a ha dig for roots, “He has gained a great victory over the ene- mies of his people,” said the aged medicine- “They will die—the Fire Eyes has spoken,” _ chief, and that as an herb and root gatherer his to him to pass upon as ‘good medicine” or “bad medicine,” and, kept constantly under Death-Killer’s eye, he would have little chance to get off with the young braves fishing and hunting. But, with the threats to kill Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter staring him in the face, he dared not say anything. “The Death-Killer can have the Red Scalp. “ Let him be taken to the medicine tepee and bound until the two pale-faces have died.” Five minutes after Buckskin Bill was bound hand and foot, and was lying upon a buffalo- robe in the large tepee of the old medicine chief, to be thus kept until after Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter had been put to death. From that moment, when thrown bound into the medicine tepee, Buckskin did not close his eyes, until he heard the gathering of the red- skins the next afternoon for the grand enter- tainment, to them, of kiliing two pale-face pris- oners. : The howling of the warriors in the dances, the moaning and crying of the squaws and children who had lost husbands and parents, made the village akin to a lunatic asylum during the long hours of the night. Buckskin Bill felt that he could do nothing to save his comrades. , ; Young and hopeful, he still hoped that Fire Eyes would keep his word and let them go. But in this hope Dan Ellis and Reuben Carter did not enter. They well understood Indian character, and resigned themselves to their fate. There was one thing about Dan Ellis which his captors had not taken into consideration. That was his remarkably small hands and feet. Possessed of hands and feet that might be envied by a woman, in spite of his tall and mus- cular form, he had managed to slip them from the bounds whenever he was not under the eye of bis captors, and he had planned with Reuben Carter, while they were prisoners to the Apaches, to free him, and then the two would make an effort to escape. When in the tepee in the Indian village, Dan Ellis had loosened the bonds of Carter, and greatly relieved the pain he had_ been suffering from having them so tightly tied. As for himself, his own limbs had not swollen, and, freed of his bonds, when not watched, he had kept the blood circulating freely in his limbs, Had they had a longer time in the Comanche camp, the two daring men might have gotten a chance to escape; but the night passed away without their daring to make the attempt, and the next morning they were told that they were to doit. “Tts all up with us, Pard Reuben; but I'm durned ef I don’t surprise them red varmints at ther last minute and take Injun comp’ny along with us out o’ ther world, and I only wishes you was in as good trim as I be.” \ But Reuben Carter was not. He could not free himself of his bonds as Ellis could, and his limbs were greatly swollen and painful. He was a man over fifty, while Ellis was bare- ly thirty; but he said: a ‘Bf I gits ther chance ter kill, Pl jine yer, Pard Dan.” Thus they sat through the day, wondering what mode of cruelty the red-skins would find to kill them by. Toward the sunset hour they saw the Indians all assembling together in the open space in the village, and forming two long lines, a hundred yards apart. | “Pard, we is ter run ther gantlet fer our lives,” said Dan coolly. ‘hen that kills me, as I hain’t able ter run far or fast: but you kin, Dan, and you is deer- footed as | knows, and maybe you won’t sur- prise ’em.” “Well, I'm a-gittin’ old, and I guesses my time has come; but you is young and kin fight fer life, pard—yes, it is ter be ther death gantlet, Dan, as I sees, preparations of race for life, _—- _ CHAPTER XV. _ gees Bee ts RUN DOWN. x ah hy ate ‘ Wren the ° x or z at Shadow. | and it means sart’in death ter me,” and the old borderman sadly watched the the red-skins for the deadly va hee htfor life. adit Pr. i The eyes of the two men took in the situation at _a glance. act They saw the Indians divided in ‘two lines, ex- tending several hundred yards in the broad space between the tepees. : They were some two hundred feet apart, and there were chiefs, warriors, squaws and chil- en. There were also innumerable dogs, gaunt, hungry-looking animals, which were unmerci- fully kicked whenever they came within reach of a foot, whether it belonged to a warrior, & Squaw or a child. h Ata distance beyond the line stood a group among whom were Fire Eyes, Death-Killer and Iron Arm, and toward these the prisoners were led, arid_reaching there they beheld Buckskin Bill in the background, and he was also secure- ly bound, as they were. a ‘‘ Lordy, pard, I believe they is going Binake Billy run, too,” said Dan Ellis. Nb ee Carter shook his head sadly and said: “They has no mercy; boy or man it’s all the same tothem.” — - At the other end of the line, some four hun- dred yards from the group, which was to be the. starting point, a mustang was staked out with a short lariat. This animal was to be the goal to be reached, and the prisoner who could get to him, mount, yas ride away, was to be allowed to go unmo- ested. ' This was what Fire Eyes bad considered being generous, although the mustang had no saddle nor bridle, and the man that should reach him would be unarmed end with gut food, é Had he considered it possible for either of the prisoners to reach the mustang, he would never have shown such generosity. The prisoners were led to the group, and told what they were to do, while a band of half a hundréd young bucks, armed with knives, stood near to give chase and cut them to pieces, should they catch them. i Their bonds were then taken off, and poor Reuben Carter stamped his feet, as though try- ing to get up a circulation, with a hope of mak- ing the run. But the pain he suffered convinced him that he was doomed. “ Billy, you has acted nobly by us, but you has got inter a fix yerself by it. “Tm gittin’ old, and %m weak and sufferin’ so IT has go ter go under, so I says good-by, lad, and ef ther time do come when yer kin avenge me, don’t let it slip. F rae *’ Good-by, Dan, and luck ter yer, pard, and I believes yer’ll hev it. “Hf yer gits through don’t fergit ter raise Comanche hair fer! me now and then, and re- member whar yer left Buckskin Billy. ‘€ Good-by.” The voice of the ola borderman was firm ashe spoke, while Dan Ellis was choked up and he could not at first reply. But then he said: “Tl git thar, Reuben, pard, and you'll not be forgotten when I gits on ther trail o’ red-skins, ““Good-by, pard,” and the young scout turned and limped into line, while Buckskin Bill’s eyes. were riveted upon them with a look of deepes pity and sorrow blended. ss In his heart was sympathy for those twobraye men whom he had tried so hard to save, while ‘his brain was wild with thoughts of revenge against the treacherous Comanches. rs ‘As Fire Eyes guve the word to go, a cry broke from the lips of Dan Ellis, and he shotaway like an arrow from a bow. ad no power to save him, and to remain and ale with him would be utter mad cape. race, trails of the two, like @ pack of wolves, bount while at their heels Tan a great crowd of hungry dogs, joinin in the sport, as it was to them an the Comanches. : heart, turned his gaze upon Reuben Carter. if C) He knew that Reuben Carter must die, thatho , mess,and so. e made up his mind to strain every herve toes Buckskin Bill was amazed to see him almost — xe fly as he did, although he knew that Dan was said to often outrun an ordinary mustang im = The Indians were also surprised, and upon the as the half a hundred braves, armed with knives, | os Pea Thy After seeing Dan Ellis bound away with , uc ee tremendous spee@, Buckskin Bill, with asinking —
Page 9
Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. 9 Then, like a lion at bay he sprung, unarmed = he was, upon them, and met his fate tear- essly. There were a few knife-thrusts, a yelping of dogs, yelling. of Indians, and the life of poor Reuben Carter had ended, while one young brave shook aloft the gory scalp as a trophy of his bravery. CHAPTER XVI. A SURPRISE, Tae catching up with unfortunate Reuben Carter, and his tragic death at the cruel hands of his red-skin pursuers, momentarily took the aze of the Indians, and of Buckskin Bill, from Han Ellis, The scout was, as has been stated, a tall, splendidly-formed man, * Over six feet in hight, he was possessed of wonderful strength and endurance, while his speed as a runner had been the admiration of his comrades, who had bestowed upon him the name of Deerfoot Dan, Brave, and yet clinging to life with the tenacity of a young man with the world before him, Dan was determined to make a grand struggle. He knew that the Comanches had swift run- ners in their tribe, braves whese incentive to kill was as great as his incentiveto escape them. Believed to be lame trom his having been wounded, he yet was in perfect condition, and went off like a rocket on hisrun. There were two-thirds of the braves who started -in chase of the two men, who kept on after him, only a dozen or so throwing them- Selves upon poor Carter. The fleetest runners had expected more of Dan Ellis, and so they had him in their eye, From his very first jump at the start, he be- n to drop them behind, and when Buckskin ill was able to turn his staring eyes from the scene of Reuben Carter’s death, a cry of joy almost broke from his lips as he saw Dan thirty paces ahead of his nearest pursuer. And with each bound the flying scout gained, while the Indians were fairly dazed with amaze- ment, , On, on, tlew the borderman, going two feet to the one of his pursuers, and seemingly without an effort. But Dan Ellis knew his danger, and he was straining every nerve. The mustang he knew might be frightened at his rapid approach and} with a spring, drag up the rope peg and dash away. Then the pack of dogs were beginning to find out who it was the red-skins were chasing, and they separated themselves from their masters and ran on ahead after the fugitive. Of course Dan Ellis could not exper to dis- tance the hungry pack, were the chase a long one; but when he heard them open in full ery he imew that he must gain the mustang before they could catch him, or be pulled down by them. : Maddened by this thought he used still greater exertion and for a short while fairly gained on the dogs. But the pace was too hard a one to last long, and the dogs began to creep upon him. ; This sport seemed to delight the red-skins im- mensely. ; They had not expected their hungry canines to join in the chase, and it would be a novel sen- sation to see a pale-face pulled down and wor- ried to death by the savage pack, The pursuing braves however would prefer to kill with their knives, rather than have the fugi- tive die under the teeth of the dogs, and they quickened their pace. : The mustang was now but a short fifty yards away, the dogs about the same distance behind the fugitive, Reeth As he fairly flew along Dan Ellis spied a lance lying in his path. A quick stoop and he had grasped it, and a moment after he was within a few feet of the mustang. The frightened animal made a bound, and yet he was not quick enongh, for the stake was seized and dragged up, and, with a mighty ‘bound the daring man was upon the back of the mustang. sust at that moment the leading dog was within reach, and by @ skillful movement Dan oe caught him fairly upon the sharp-pointed dance, Then away darted the nmustang, the fleet run- ner his back, and out of the village he went like the wind. The braves gave a yell of and disa pointment, the women and ¢ screamed, and away sped a hundred warriors to mount in hot haste and pursue. But down the steep mountain-side ata run went the sure-footed mustang, the rider guiding him with the lance, and when he reached the valley the nearest horseman was a quarter of a mile behind him. One long, loud, exultant yell broke from the lips of Dan Ellis, and he urged his pony on at full speed. Then he glanced back and saw a long string of horsemen in pursuit. In the valley the shadows were increasing, though the mountain-tops were yet rosy with the last rays of the sun which had gone down. ‘“*T will escape them—they can never take me now, for within ten minutes it will be dark and I am a long way ahead.” : So said the brave rider, and his words were soon proven to be warranted, as when the In- dians reached the valley, between the ‘dark shadows from the hills, the timber and can- yons, with the prairie stretching away on one side, they knew not which way the fugitive had gone, The dogs, too, though they had pursued the white man, would not chase the mustang; or the fatal thrust one of their number had_ received had proven a wholesome lesson, for they no longer were in chase. It was too dark for the red-skins to follow the trail, and listening they heard no sound of hoofs, when at last the pursuing party had gathered together in the valley. The white man had been promised his life if he could run the gantlet in safety, and yet, having done so, the Comanches would have caught ‘him is they could, and tried some other game for their amusement in which the chances of success were more in their favor. At last, with saddened hearts they returned to the village, compelled to give up the chase, for, when the morning came it would be useless to follow the trail of the daring scout, with his half-score hours’ start of them. CHAPTER XVII. DEATH-KILLER’S PROTEGE, TxHE old medicine chief of the Comanches had won his name—as is customary with Indian nomenclature from some peculiarity of the one named—from the fact that he defied death in curing sick red-skins, The Indians are natural physicians and sur- geons, and one who sets himself up among a tribe as a medicine-man is compelled to be versed in the uses of plants, herbs, roots and flowers, for the cure of diseases and the healing of wounds. Either by accident, luck or real knowledge, old Death-Killer had won fame asa medicine- man, and his white hair added to the respect with which he was regarded by his people. His tepee wasa large one, and remarkably odd-looking in appearance, for it was a blend- ing of an Indian curiosity-shop, a witch’s re- treat and an apothecary shop. There, were dried herbs and wild flowers, barks of various trees, roots and plants in abun- dance, with clay pots to boil them to extract the juices, Then there were the skulls and bones of hu- man beings and animals, the former being the remains of pale-faces, for not even an Apache would old Death-Killer allow in his tepee after he Was dead, Relics of the chase, bearskins, buffalo-robes, dressed deer-heads and the plumage of birds ornamented the place, while weapons of all kinds were also there, Without the tepee was covered with various cobalvny signs, painted in red, yellow and black colors. Old Death-Killer had his little tepee in the rear, opening into the large one, and therein he slept, using the other for laboratory, office, pow- wow hall and store-room. As Buckskin Bill was to become once more the protege of Death-Killer after the sad death of Reuben Carter and the escape of Dan Ellis, he was turned over to the old medicine chief by Fire Eyes, who told him that any attempt to escape on his part would end in his being burned to death. ‘ With this horrible threat Buckskin Bill was freed of his he nds and was given a bear-robe in the large tepee of the medicine chief, which was filled with the scent of a dozen different. con- eoctions, But Buckskin Bill had been there before, his- quarters having then been in the same place. As if not caring for the fate of Carter aad escape of Dan Bilis, but perfectly satisfied to remain ih the Comanche village, Buckskin Bill Re set to work with a cheerfulness that pleased old Death-Killer, and disarmed, in a measure, sus- picion of him, though there was a nightly and daily watch placed upon him which Fire Eyes and the medicine chief did not intend he should know about. The moment that Fuckskin Bill beheld Reu- ben Carter die as he did, he raised his eyes to- ward Heaven, and a vow passed his lips that he would avenge that appalling act upon the old . scout. He knew that there was but one way to get along in the Indian village, and that was to enter into their customs at once, and to seem to take his situation as though he liked it. Since his former captivity among the Co- manches he had learned much, and he did all in his power to make himself useful. That they were suspicious of him he knew, as also that he was well watched, for he quickly discovered who his watchers were. To the old medicine chief he tried to make himself most useful, hoping to win his gratitude at least. But the red-skin has little gratitude. He takes all favors shown bim as a matter of course, and try as he might, Buckskin Bill could not win more than a mumbled word from Death- Killer. For his own sake the youth entered into the work of the medicine-man, for there were cer- tain things he was anxious to find out, He wisbed to know an herb that would pro- duce a deep sleep for some hours, and he was sure that Death-Killer understood the value of all of his medicines, He helped the old chief to boil the herbs, roots and flowers, dried the plants, found out what was good about them and that which was bad, and before long was fully as conversant with the medicinal properties of what nature pro- vided in the forests for its children as was Death- Killer himself. Thus several months passed away, and the red-skins had begun to feel that Buckskin Bill was contented with his lot. This was what he wished, and to keep himself up to the mark in athletic strength and endur- ance, he would wrestle with the Indian youths, run races with them, practice bow and arrow shooting, for he had no firearms, and also be- come expert in the use of the Comanche lance. He also entered into their sports on horseback, and, though always considered a good rider in the settlement, he soon found out that the In- dians could teach him a great deal about riding which he had never believed possible. Since the defeat of the Apaches the Co- manches had been keeping very close to their vil- lage, and in many ways had strengthened their stronghold, imitating the whites and making it almost a fort. Then, too, they had put out advance posts, from quarters where danger might be expected, and these were relieved from. duty every morn- ing. Fire Eyes also encouraged the boys of the tribe in the use of weapons, and hoped to make of them a fair home guard in case of another attack. News canie to the village, now and then, from Indian spies, that the settlement was increasing in numbers, that trains were running oftener across the plains and mountains, and of several important raids which the Apaches had made against the whites. Of course Buckskin Bill heard of these ru- mors, but showed no outward interest in them. Often he thought of making an attempt to escape; but he dreaded failure, and the fearful threat of Fire Eyes, to burn him at the stake if he did make the effort, deterred him until he felt sure of success. One night there was a grand pow-wow in the Council Tepee, and Buckskin Billy tried hard to find out what was going on. But this he could not do, and he lay awake until Old Death-Kiiler came in and went to bed. The next morning Billy discovered that Fire Eyes, with a hundred picked warriors, had left the village during the night. Day after day he longed for their return, that he might learn whither they had gone, and what deviltry they had been committing; and one afternoon he was delighted to see them returning, yet dreading what they might brin: to prove that they had been upon a successf raid into the settlements. : As they came into the village, yelling like de- mons, Buckskin Bill knew that they bad met with suecess, and soon he saw unbounded proof in numerous mules which had belonged to a train, the animals being loaded dowa with taken from the wagons, \
Page 10
10 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. But, worst of all, there were several prisoners, and amoug them a little golden-haired, blue- eyed girl hardly more than eight years of age. “Poor little girl! poor men,” murmured Buckskin Bill, and he walked away to the Medi- cine Tepee, his heart bleeding for the captives. CHAPTER XVIII, THE MEETING. Tue story of the raid of Fire Eyes and his warriors, soon became known through the Comanche village. They had heard of a train that was going across the plains to the settlements, and with it were several settlers and their families, The Comanches bad laid in ambush for the hha and attacked it at an unguarded mo- ment. But though they had captured it, and many prisoners, a party of cavalry the next day had surprised them and they had only managed to bring off their booty, which they had placed upon the captured mules, and three prisoners, two of them teamsters, and one a little girl. The Comanches were happy over their par- tial success, and furious because they had not saved all, while they had to mourn the loss of some of their best warriors, and yet could get a balm for their sorrows in killing two of their captives, for the little girl was to be raised in the Indian camp as the adopted child of Fire Eyes, The two men seemed to feel there was no hope for themselves as to their fate; but, brave as they were the cruel tortures of the Comanches in putting them to death caused them to fill the air with wild shrieks of anguish, and Buckskin Bill, who had crept away to his buffaio-robe in the tepee, covered his ears with his hands to shut out the appalling sounds. It wasa long time before Buckskin Bill got an opportunity to speak with the little captive, for he kept away from her. This the Indians noticed, and it pleased them to see that he did not seem 'to care for her, and Fire Eyes confidentially remarked to Death- Killer: ‘“‘The Red Scalp is a good Comanche, ‘‘ He will be a great chief some day.” But one day an opportunity offered for Buck- vkin Bill to speak to the little captive. Her civilized attire had been changed for Tndian toggery, and she was seated upon the banks of a small brook fishing, when Buckskin Bill, who was gathering herbs, with Death- ema lying in the shade not far distant, spied r er, She looked up as a buckskin-clad form ap- proached her, believing it to be an Indian, and she said in her childish way, as she looked curi- cis | at him: ** It’s a red-headed Indian.” “No, [am not an Indian, little girl, but white Pa yourself, and also a captive,” said Buckskin ill. “Ah! I’m so glad! We'll be good friends, won't us, for I have no one here I care for.” Buckskin Bill warned her to sit down and keep quiet, and seating himself near her, he asked: “ What is your name?” ‘*Frances Willard, but the at home, while these horric Snow Bird. ‘* It’s a pretty name for an Indian girl, but I like to be called Frankie.” ‘* And where did you live?” ‘In Texas, sir, and we were going to the Indian Territory, where my father was to teach school, when the Indians attacked our train,” ‘* Were your parents killed?” ‘No, sir; for the soldiers came and run the Indians off; but the big chief, my Indian father carried me with him, although I screamed an¢ scratched him all l could,” _. “Well; Frankie, I don’t dare talk to you; but I wish you to feel Lirtend to escape from here and take you with me. ‘**Tt may be days, weeks, and perhaps months; but I shall get away and you shall go too. _ * Be careful not to let any one know that you have talked to me, for they would kill us both; but don’t fret, for I will take you back to your rents.” ‘* Ah! if eyes were call me Frankie hitlians call me ou only could,” and the little girl’s lled with tears, while her lips quiv- e ° “They beat me here when I am not bad, and I have to work so hard. “Thad some fishing-lines in my pocket when they caught me, and so I thought I’d run down here to the brook and catecb some fish; but they may beat me for it, although I’ve caught a whole string. | ** See here!” ! She held up the string of fish with pride, and | then as Buckskin Bill started to go, she asked: ‘What is your name?” ‘‘The Indians call me Red Scalp.” ‘What an ugly name! ‘‘ It’s because you are red-headed, I guess. “But what’s the name your parents gave ou?” ‘* William Middleton.” [ll call you Mister Willie.” ‘“No, call me Bill—Buckskin Bill—for that is what they called me at school, } ‘But now I must go, but remember I will save you,” ‘*T won’t forget it.” * Good-by, Frankie,” *‘ Good-by, Buckskin Bill,” was the reply, and the girl continued her fishing, while Buckskin Bill stole softly away and went on with his work, happy at having had a talk with the pretty little girl captive, *¢ Tf I can only save her!” he mused. ‘“ And I will!” he firmly added 4 moment after. CHAPTER XIX. IN MASQUERADE, THe more Buckskin Bill looked into matters, the more he discovered that he was constantly watched, He was glad to know that his little talk with Frankie Willard had escaped the watchful eyes kept upon him, and he came to the conclusion that it he could escape himself, he could also rescue her, How to accomplish this was what puzzled his brain continually. He thought out a hundred plans, and had to give them up. One of his duties was to look after the horses of the old medicine chief. For some reason, perhaps to watch his own white hair, Death-Killer would own nothing but a white mustang, and the score of animals which belonged to him were all fine ones, and were as white as snow. Buckskin Bill suddenly took a deeper interest in his care of these white mustangs. He would care for them far more thoroughly than was his wont, and heseemed to take pride in combing out, with a comb of his own manu- facture, their long manes and tails. The fact was, that their manes and tails had suggested an idea of escape to the youth, n all the time that he was caring for these mustangs, he was robbing them, hair by hair, of their tails, These hairs were securely hidden away, and at differemt times, when he could, Buckskin Bill worked on something which at last developed into a rude wig, This wes the foundation of his last plot to es- cape, and the reader will discover that it was a good one, though a desperate one. Having completed his wig, Buckskin Bill began to see what the chances were of a talk with lit- tle Frankie. It took him weeks to manage this, but at last he succeeded, and the result was that the next day the child was taken ill. he had begun to understand and speak the Comanche tongue passably well, and she told the chief, Fire Eyes, and his wife that she was suffering great pain. They were anxious about the little captive for they did not wish to lose her, and so ol Death-Iiller was called in. He looked as wise as an owl, gave the child some of his medicines, and it had no beneficial effect. ‘As Frankie seemed to grow worse, the old medicine chief said he would take her to his tepee that night and try other things to cure her, for that was the custom of the Comanches, to take an invalid to the Medicine Lodge and en- deavor by their rude methods to drive off dis- ease, Old Death-Killer departed for his tepee to make all arrangements, and he found that Buck- skin Bill had his supper ready for him. | The old medicine chief was hungry, and he gorged himself so that he grew sleepy and fell back upon the buffalo-robe on which be had been sitting, Then Buckskin Bill rose quickly, and dragged Dexth-Killer into his little tepee adjoining, From tis body then were taken his picturesque costume and ornaments of bears’ Claws, beads, gee ee and scalps, and it took Buckskin a very short while to rig up in them. Out from its hiding-place then came the white horse-hair wig, after which he reddened his face with paint. The wig was a good fit, and with hands also eee eee eeu reddened, body bent over, and the staff of the medicine chief, the daring youth leoked the very medicine chief himself. Lying half-naked upon his couch of skins, sleeping securely under an herb narcotic which Buckskin Bill had placed in his supper, Death- Killer was no longer dangerous. Having put the fire nearly out, so as to have but a dim fight in the large tepee, Buckskin Bil} started on his perilous mission. The walk and moverrents of the old medicine chief he had studied perfectly, and his voice he had practiced until he could imitate it to per- fection. The night was dark, and as the Comanches were wont to retire early the eamp-fires were al- ready burning low. A misty rain was beginning: to fall, and a chilh wind that was uncomfortable was sweeping: through the village. Across the village the young borderman wend- ed his way, keeping up the gait and perfect a. pearance of the old medicine chief, and straight to the group of tepees which belonged to Fire Eyes and his family he went. The sick child had been left to the care of one of the squaws in one of the tenees, and to it the disguised youth made his way. ‘* How feels the Snow Bird now?” he asked, as he drew aside the flaps of the tepee and entered while the squaw half arose from her bed o skins. The words seemed to arduse the child and she moaned pitifully. ‘¢ The medicine chief will take the Snow Bird to his tepee. ‘¢ Let the Antelope come to the medicine lodge when the sun shines over the mountain and see if the Snow Bird is not better.” : So snying, the youth wrapped the little cap- tive carefully up in robes, and taking ber in his arms bore her from the tepee, while the squaw, glad to get rid of her charge, dropped back on her couch again and slept soundly, thinking nothing of the affair, as it was the custom of the Indiau medicine-men to have their way with all invalids. Back to the Medicine Lodge went the youth, clinging fast to his burden, while the rain began. to fall more rapidly and the chill wind to blow more fiercely. CHAPTER XX, A BOLD DEED. Tue heavy flaps of the large Medicine Te had hardly shut Buckskin Bill from view, when he gently laid the slender form down upon a, couch of skins, which the old medicine chief had. for invalid Indians, Then he made a rapid circuit of the tepee, looking in all places where a form could be con- cealed, and entering the quarters adjoining, found Death-Killer s Nag Be soundly. ‘“He ate so much he got more than I in- tended, ¢ \ “ But it won't kill him,” muttered Buckskin Bill Then he went outside and made a rapid circuit of the two tepees. . , Not a soul was visible, Returning to the Medicine Lodge, he said, in a whisper: “* Frankiote)): | “Well, Buckskin Bill?” ‘¢ How do you feel?” « Splendid.” “You played your part well.” “ And so did you, for at first I really thought you were that horrid old medicine chief, “But what are you going to do now?” ‘* Rscape.” Oh! ati glad I will be.” He hastily collected some traps together, which ne had been collecting for weeks, and tied all in a bundle, which he strapped upon his back, “Here, Frankie, you carry the provision-bag and this bow and arrows, aud I have the old’ chief’s rifle, revolver and knife, ‘** Now, come on, and net close behind me.” They left the tepee silently, and wended their way toward the nearest timber, where they had. shelter from any one Who might be moving about the village. 3 But the rain was falling, and the chill wind blowing, so Buckskin Bill had little fear of seeing any one, unless it was a party returning from a hunting expedition, or some of the outposts coming in for some reason, he Comanches had a dozen corrals for their ponies, and Over each one was a& guard but the desire of the old medicine chief to keep his mustangs aloof from the others, had worked greatly in the favor of Buckskin Bill's daring project, for there was no watch kept on them. Reaching the corral, Buckskin Bill deposited
Page 11
-but was standing upright upon the rock, his his bundle, and then went among the herd, pick- ing out three of the animals which he knew to be the best ones, and telling them in the hitense darkness by having plaited their manes so that he should know them on just such an occasion. Bridles, saddles and stake-ropes he had al ways hidden away, and these were quickly put upon two of the mustangs, while the bundle was firmly stra ped upon the thi * Now, Frankie, let me put you on this pony, and you must ride like a boy, for Indians don’t have any sido-saddles,” said Buckskin Bill, and he raised the little girl to the back of the pony. Then he mounted, and with Frankie following close behis2, and the third mustang leading, he started down toward the valley. Frankie could aig restrain herself with {oy forshe thought all danger was over; but SBuckskia Bill whispered to her that they had an outpost of three red-skins to pass before ‘bey were free of the Indian lines, and after ‘hat it was a long, hard ride to the settlement. \bout two miles from the camp Buckskin Bill trew rein and asked Frankie to hold his mus- fang and wait for him there. Then, with the bow and arrows, and.a revol- ver, he ar cautiously forward. The trail led through a rocky pass, and at the other end of it the youth knew that the Indian sentinel was stationed, while, up a can- yon, half a hundred yards away, was the camp of the others, The patter of the rain, and the howling of the wind, were in his favor to drown all sound, and yet he moved with the greatest caution. He was within ten paces of the sentinel, who, unlike- many white soldiers, when no enemy is supposed to be near, was not shirking his duty, back toward the rain-storm, and his face turned toward the point from whence danger was to be looked for. ‘*T hate to shoot him in the back,” said the boy, with a desire to have a foe face him. Bat then he thought of poor Reuben Carter, the two teamsters, the cruel raids of the Co- manches, the pretty little captive Frankie, and last of himself, and the fearful fate that awaited him if he was taken back to the village. Drawing the arrow well back and taking de- liberate aim, Buckskin Bill sent the fatal shaft flying upon its errand. _With a stifled cry the Indian sprung into the air and fell heavily, rolling down the rocks into the trail. : Buckskin Bill was by his side in an instant, his hand upon his throat, but the sentinel was off duty forever.” Fearful that his cry might have alarmed his comrades up the canyon, the youth waited, crouching, revolver in hand, to see if they ap- peared, , But, lucky for t’ em was it that they did not the wind and rain having prevented ‘the soun reaching them. Feeling assured that al] was quiet up the can- yon, he dragged the body out of sight and then returned to the hidihg-place off the trail where oF pet left Frankie, and mounting quickly, said; “T guess it’s all right now, Frankie.” ‘* Did you see the sentinels?” ‘* Yes, but they won’t see us—come.” He led the way down the pass, and glanced at the clump of bushes that hid the dead warrior as he went by. But they passed through in safety and soon ‘after reaching the prairie set out at a rapid gal- lop, the fugitives riding side by side, and the thie horse leading willingly. After pressing on for several hours Buckskin Bill en: m1 rods : ess we'll give the ponies a rest now, for by aie time the S ndiaus find out we havo es- ane we will be forty miles away from the Age, M Oh, Buckskin Bill! you are a great man,” cried F rankie in delight, and from that moment Buckskin Bill became her hero of heroes, — CHAPTER XXI. THE scouT’s STORY. Tr is now time to return to Dan Ellis, after his magnificent escape from the Comanches, It was, as the reader wil] remember, nearly sunset, when his desperate race for life began and so darkness came to bis aid before he had ridden very far, and forced the Indians to give icy neat “i which had @ animal whic been as a bait, et the end of the: goal, was a aa far bet- ter than the red would have selected had Buckskin Bill, the Comanc he Shadow. 12 they supposed it possible that either of their prisoners could escape in the Death Chase. Finding out that he had a good mustang un- der him, Dan Ellis pressed rapidly on. He was most anxious to put as great distance as paar between the Comanches and himself in the shortest possible time. He knew, too, that he had no weapons, other than the lance he carried, no food, and was in desperately bad circumstances for a couple of hundred miles’ flight. But he did not despair, and so held on his way at a canter. He had strained himself in his terrific exer- tions to reach the horse before the pack of dogs should catch him, for the chasing red-skins he knew he could readily distance. This strain began to tell upon him, and when he dismounted toward midnight, he could hard- ly walk. This stiffness increased upon him and the next day his whole frame was racked with pain. But he held on his way, resting his pony when he dared, and giving the animal all the grazing and water he wanted. As for himself water was all he could get, as he could not eat grass, and hunger began to tell upon him, for the Indians had been very stingy in giving him food the few days he had been their captive. When night came his pony was pretty well fagged out, and he was almost completely so, e had nothing to light a fire with, no blanket to wrap about him to keep off the chilly winds, and so he bad to make a bed of leaves, like a wild animal, and keep warm as best he could. After several hours of rest, such as it was, he mounted his pony, which had fared much bet- ter, and set off once more on his way to the set- tlemexts. Thus the day passed and came, , Knowing that he was too stiff and sore to mount if he dismounted, he remained upon his mus- tang, which he kept slowly walking on his way through the night. Before day dawned the animal was gaunt and well-nigh used up, but his rider was in a worse condition and felt that he could not stand it much longer. Just then his eyes fell upon a white object far another night off over the prairies. It was the tilt of a ‘‘ prairie schooner,” and others met his éyes also. ‘*f am saved,” he murmured, and he pushed his pony forward at his best gait. An hour more and he rode up toa wagon- train crossing the prairie, and bound for the settlements. | He could barely say ‘‘ I’ve escaped from In- juns—nearly starved—used up dead sart’in,” Then he fell from his horse, Tenderly he was taken up and cared for, and the next day when the train pulled into the set- tlement he was delirious with fever. All there knew him as Dan Ellis, one of the ards of the store train of Hal Rice, What did it mean? The train should have returned several days before. _ Why had it not? All that poor Dan Ellis could say was: “They are after me! I must run for it!” Thus did he rave in his delirium. The people of the train told of his words to em, a 8 then a great fear ran through the settle- ment. Hal Rice thought of his loss of wagons, mules and provisions, But Mr. Middleton and others thought of those dear to them, Pilot Pete, Reuben Carter, Buckskin Bill and the others, What had become of them? No one could tell; but a scouting-party was at once organized and went off on the trail. They soon found the charred remains cf the wagons, the bones of dead men, which the wolves had picked clean. Who they were they could not tell, Dan Ellis had escaped, and the bones scattered about accounted for others; but two known to have been with the train were missing, Had they escaped, or been carried off by the Indians as captives? And which were they?” These questions but one man could answer, and he was delirious with fever and might die. Back to the settlement rode the party, under Mr. Middleton, and their sad story was told. Dan Ellis still lay in the same condition, wild with delirium, Most tenderly he was cared for, until at last a "Aree ee ae | ht Me eth ae FSP the fever burned itself out, and his strong frame and constitution proved victorious over the severe attack. At last he was able to talk, and his story wax told. He did not speak unkindly of Pilot Pete, and those who had caroused with him, but he gave all to understand that but for the spree which the guide had begun in the town, the sad tragedy would not have occurred. He told how Reuben Carter, Buckskin Bill and himself, utterly worn out, had been forced to yield to Pilot Pete and the others to watch the train and what had followed. Buckskin Bill’s story of escape, his having. been up a tree over the heads of the camping Apaches, and his brave effort to rescue Carter and himself, he made known, Reuben Carter’s sad fate was also told, and how Buckskin Bill was a prisoner in the camp: of the Comanches, A cheer arose at this, from all who heard it,, and loud cries‘ were heard to form a rescue- rty. But Dan Ellis said: ‘‘ We hain’t got no thousand men, pards, ter send to thet camp, and it would take thet many to git thar in fightin’ style. ‘Then thar hain’t two hundred sogers on ther border ter help us, so we kin do nuthin’, ‘* But you jist let Buckskin Bill alone. ‘‘ He hain’t no fool, and he were born with his: eyes open. ‘““He hey cut his teeth and durn me if yer don’t see him a-pilin’ inter ther settlement some fine mornin’, chipper as yer please, ‘They likes ther boy, and he jist makes ’en: believe he loves ’em ter death, ‘* They knows he saved ’em from ther Apaches,, and they wants him fer a brave among ’em, an ther old medicine chief hev adopted him. ‘‘But fer all that, Buckskin Bill don’t like rusticatin’ among Comanches, and ye’ll see him afore long, or my name hain’t Dan Ellis.” This assurance of the scout gave renewed hope, and daily did the settlers hope and look for the return of the brave youth they knew to be the captive of cruel red-skins. Then one day, like an electric thrill, there ran from cabin to cabin the thrilling words: ** Buckskin Bill has returned.” CHAPTER XXII. DAN ELLIS’S DEATH-ROLL. Ir was a long time before Dan Ellis was able to get about, and longer still before he was: strong enough to start upon a trail. But at last he was well and strong once more, and he began to get ready for a prairie tramp,, as he called it. The mustang which had brought nim from the Indian village, he had a great affection for, and the animal had proven himself possessed of both speed and endurance, so he was to be the com~ rade of the scout in his trips, for Dan had given: out that it was his intention to “‘ bunt Injun.” He had a little money laid by with Hal Rice, the storekeeper, and he took it to the farm with him and ther@ invested in a repeating rifle and the best pair of revolvers be could buy, He also got a perfect outfit for himself, and fright and carly in the morning, after a week's. steady practice with his rifle and revolvers, he set out from his little cabin on the war-path, Those who knew the scout well felt assured of two things: that he was going to try and rescue Buckskin Bill and also revenge Reuben Carter. But he was not aman to talk much; and so: they had to await his return to see what it was that caused him to go off alone on the prairie, and so carefully fix up for an extended trip. Dan was gone for several weeks, and then one morning be was found at his cabin once more, When questioned, he simply said: ‘«] jist went off on a leetle fe@ler.” But ove: his cabin door they saw that he had pailed a boa.d, and into it had been rudely cut with a knife 1, -o words, about two feet apart, They were as “ollows: APACH’, COMANCHR’, Beneath the word intended for Apache were two scalps. Beneath Comanche was one, This showed that Dan Ellis had indeed been out upon a “ feeler.” He had never been in favor of scalping In- dians, it was remembered, and had always ad- vised his comrades against it, But after his last pxpecias his views had doubtless changed, judging from the scalps. tacked on the board above his cabin door, The next day Dan Ellis was gone again, anc several more weeks went by.
Page 12
1% 12 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. Then Mr. Middleton, who was riding by his Behind him were then seen two others, and as cabin one day with his daughter, saw signs that | Buckskin Bill’was recognized, the glad shout of the cabin had lately been occupied. Dan Ellis foundan echo from Mr. Middleton An examination showed that its owner had | and his eldest son, while the mother and sister doubtless occupied it the past night, for there | of the young borderman also rushed forward to were fresh tracks about and a place where a | give a greeting to the escaped captives. pony had been staked near and cropped the Frankie came in for a warm welcome also, grass short, and the praise she bestowed upon Buckskin Bill But above the door was a surer proof of Dan’s | made him blush, while it pleased his mother and return, for beneath the word Comanch’ were | the others immensely. two more scalps, After a short rest, Buckskin Bill and Dan, He had evidently not been idle, and the death | accompanied by Mr. Middleton, escorted roll was increasing, hearts at the loss of their little daughter. returned for ammunition, it was supposed. Mr. Willard had lost his all, at the hands of The news of his return soon spread through the settlement, and after that the settlers were | the Comanches, but the kind settlers had come | wont often to ride out of their way to see if | to his aid, built him a cabin and Hal Rice had there had been any more additions to the scalps | given him credit for what things he needed over the cabin door. from his store, so that they were getting along One morning, the second day after his mys- | passably well. terious visit to bis home, Dan turned out of his Frankie had two other sisters, older than blanket bed in a timber motte and took a view | herself by some years, and two brothers still of the prairie. older, and when Mr. Middleton rode on ahead It was the same motte in which he had camp- | and gently broke the news of her return, a scene ed with the Apaches when they had him pris- | of the wildest joy ensued, and the fond mother oner. wept and laughed by turns at the restoration of He started as his eyes fell upon some objects | her darling to her arms. out upon the prairie, a long way off. It was a touching scene, and Mr. Middleton **Tnjuns!” motioned to Buckskin Bill to go, as soon as he So he said, and a grim smile crossed his face | could do so, and they departed, leaving the ‘as he prepared to add to his scalp list. family happy in their reunion, and loud in their After a short observation, he added: praise of the brave young borderman who had “A Injun brave and a pappoose, they looks | returned to them the child they had mourned as like, and a hoss ter Jet.” dead. Nearer came the party, and then there rung ‘*Pard Bill, just what now?” asked Dan Ellis, out over the prairie a yell that would have | as he stopped at the trail which led to his cabin. drowned a trumpet in sound. ‘‘ Well, Dan, I am going to remain home for ‘** Buckskin Bill!” awhile, and then I think I shall see what is to be The one he addressed stopped short, had his | done for the future,” was the reply. rifle ready for use, and gazed into the timber. “T fear I shall never make a farmer of Dill, He had had an experience right in that motte | Dan, as he does not take kindly to that style of which he had reason to remember. work as his brother does; but I have the means, But out dashed Dan Ellis, and he was at once | and would like him to study a profession, if it recognized. : suits him.” Buckskin Bill urged his horses forward, and ‘*Preachin’ teachin’, doctorin’ or lawyerin’?” soon after the hands of the scout and the border- | asked Dan. boy were clasped in greeting. ‘“Doctoring, I guess would suit me best, after “ Billy, God bless yer! I were just)makin’ | my experience with that old medicine chief, my way up to ther Comanche country ter see ef | Death-Killer,” laughed Bill. ‘*T would be glad to have you a doctor, my I c’u’d find yer. “ But whar on’arth did yer git thet pretty | son, if you so liked,” said Mr. Middleton. ‘““Time enough for that, Squire Middleton, leetle gal? ‘She are as fine as silk, and God bless her, | arter he has chipped in a leetle with me,” Dan responded. ‘too!” In a few words Buckskin Biil told his story, In what business, Dan?” “In ther killin’ biz, squire,” and Dan’s face and then Dan said: ‘Lord love ye, leetle gal, but yer folks is in | grew black as he spoke. the upper part o’ ther settlement now, and they ‘““You are revengeful, Dan,” mildly said has set you down as dead, Squire Middleton. ‘Lordy! but won’t they be pleased ter see ‘‘ Squire, I were not so a year ago, and I were er! marciful to ther red-skins, drawin’ trigger only ‘* And, Billy, maybe the old folks down at ! when I hed ter kill ter save life. ther Middleton cabin won’t weer fer joy! ‘‘ But, when I see what I did in thet Comanch’ “Why, bless yer mother’s heart, [ promised | camp, and what Buckskin Bill see too, it made estab find yer, and I lighted out on ther a very cruel in my thoughts ag’in’ ther red rail, evils, “‘T picked up a few scalps, bit had ter put | ‘* Poor Reuben hev gone, and I vowed ter home for food and ammunition, and went by make a dozen red-skins go under, ter kinder let night, fer I didn’t want ter see her and say as | him lie more easy in bis grave up yonder in ther how I hadn’t found yer yit. mountains—oh, Lordy! he hev got no grave, ‘+ But it’s jist like yer not ter leave ther lectle | fer Bill told me they let ther dogs pull him ter gal thar, and to git away without no help from | pieces. nobody. ‘‘ Squire, I takes ther trail ag’in in a few ‘‘ Now jist come inter ther timber, and we'll | days, and ef Bill wants ter go with me I am hey a breakfast as will make ther wolves weep | willin’,” and without another word Dan Ellis ter look at us, and ef I can’t say I got yer away | turned away toward his cabin. from ther Comanches, I kin hey ther pleasure o’ ‘‘ How changed Dan is, my son,” said Squire goin’ home with yer.” Middleton, as he rode on homeward with Bill. And Dan was almost beside himself with de- ‘*T noticed it at once, father, in spite of his Jight, while both Buckskin Bill and Frankie | joy at seeing me home again. were equally glad. “He was once so light-hearted and happy; But for the hard life she had been forced to | but I do not wonder at a change in him, after lead among the red-skins, Frankie would have | all that he passed through, and I assure you it broken dcwn under the severe strain of flight, | has made me ten years older, yes, and sadder but she bore up wonderfully, and laughingly | and wiser, too. told Dan how Buckskin Bill had told her to; “I can never efface the past five months of play sick and just what he would do to have her | my life up to my dying day,” and Buckskin Bill eseape with him. | passed his hand several times across his face. as After a good breakfast and a long rest, the | though he could wipe away from before his party mounted their horses and pressed on to- | sight the bitter scenes which ran up before him ward the settlement, Buckskin Bill showing | in all their grim cruelty and horror. Frankie, as they rode through the timber the | ——- limb which he had laid at full length upon CHAPTER XXIV, while hiding from the red-skins, THE ROAD RAIDERS. , 9 In addition to their sufferings at the hands of CHAPTER XXIII, | the Apaches and Comanches, the Settlers along p THE RETURN, the valley where Squire Middleton had his home Ir was just before breakfast the following | had to contend against another evil, that of late tg“ after toe meeting at the motte, when had been giving considerable trouble and bring- Dan S was seen riding up to the very com- ing heavy losses upon them. fortable home of the Middletons, rack s hat This néw evil came in the shape of what were in a wild manner, as though to tell of sdme glad | known as Road Raiders. mows. They were said by some to be Mexicans, come Frankie upon her way to her new home, where } But Dan was not to be found, so had simply | her parents had settled, but with saddened | | up from the lower country for what gold they could get on the trails, and others asserted that they were Texan desperadoes. Then it was reported that the band consisted of horse-thieves driven down from Kansas into that country. Whatever they were, certain it is that they had stopped several trains and sacked them, while the emigrants had been deprived of their gold and what valuables they could not hide, A stage line had been established over the trail fom the nearest town in Texas to the set- tlement, making a trip each way weekly, and twice had this been brought to a halt and the passengers robbed. This had occurred just before the return of Buckskin Bill, and as the matter was talked over around ‘the home fireside, he had asked: ‘* But did not the passengers resist?” ‘‘No, my son. for they were caught at a dis- advantage, and the robbers were well armed, mounted, and a desperate lot.” ! ‘* How many of them, father?” ‘There che nine of them.” Billy said‘ho more, but a few days after signi- fied his intgntion of going to the town and buying for Bimself an outfit, for the Indians, it will be remembered, had captured bis arms, saddle and bridle. His father supplied him pretty liberally with money, and he mounted the box with the driver, and the coach rolled away ‘upon its perilous trip. PWhere do the Road Raiders generally jump you, Buck?” asked Billy of the driver, who was a weatherbeaten old plainsman. ‘* Anywhar and everywhar, pard, fer they aint partick’ler. “Tf they was, I know what to do ter give ’em a slip sometime, but they lies round loose like and, we is jist as likely ter hear hands up in an hour, as we is a hundred miles from here.” The trips between the change stations on the trail, were long ones, for it was mcstly prairie country to go over, but here and there was a bit of woodland, with hill and valley, and Buck- skin Bill naturally supposed that the Road Raiders would halt the coach there, if any- where, 4 But right in the midst of a vast expanse of prairie he espied a horseman a head. ‘Guess he’s a Raider!” said Buck. ‘* What, alone?” ‘¢ Ther’s more ’round, pard!” ‘Where are they?” As if in answer to the question, two horsemen suddenly arose from the prairie grass, and on either side of the first one discovered. “ Can’t you turn back and run for it, driver?” called out one of the passengers from within the coach and who had also been watching for Road Raiders. : ‘*T guesses not, if yer looks ahind yer,” Buck replied. There appeared two other horsemen, who had evidently been, horse and rider, lying flat in some buffalo wallow. Then on either side appeared two men, also rising from the ground. ‘Nine of them,” said Buckskin Bill. “Yes, that’s them—the Nine Pins we calls ‘em, and now them as has dust has ter jist hand it out; said the driver, Buckskin Bill knew that there were three men in the coach, and one woman, and he said: _ “1 believe if we fought them, Buck, we could stand them off,” ‘“T is paid ter drive this huss, pard, and not ter fight. ‘*What ther passengers does is not my say, but I’m thinkin’ you would jist git lead while ther Road Raiders would git ther gold all the same.’ The nine horsemen now began to close in around the coach, and Buck came to a halt. As they approached, it was seen that they were all aoe with rifles, and held them ready for use. ; They were also well mounted, and their heads were covered with a small bag, in which holes were cut for the eyes, and these were so small that it could not be seen whether the men were white, black or red, for their hands were loved. y , They were @ Startling looking lot, and it was no wonder that resistance had seldom been offered to their demands for money. Buckskin Bill eyed them Closely, taking a close survey of first one and then the other, as they drew near, and their horses also came in | for a share of scrutiny. “Well, driver, how many pilgrims aboard?” asked the leader, a man somewhat taller than the others, and this seemed about the only differ-
Page 13
’ . od Se of t- = is: 1 a i ence between him and his men, as far as out- - ward observation went. “Five, four men and one woman,” replied Buck. “That young gentleman on the box is one.” “Yes ; am a passenger,” quietly said Buck- skin Bill. ““ Well, out with your money, all of you, for I don’t wish to be detained,” said the leader of the Road Raiders. Billy threw his pocket-book to the leader, and ft was skillfully caught by him, while two of his neh advanced to the stage doors, one on either side, “This is not all you have, sir,” sternly said the leader to Billy, as he drew out of the pocket bdok only about twenty dollars. Tt’s all the money 1 have.” * You lie, for I know that you havemore.” “What makes you think so?” “*T know it.” ** How do you know it?” “ You are Billy Middleton.” “Sure,” “You are going to the town to buy a rifle, re- volvers, and complete outfit, and your father gave you several hundred dollars.” Billy laughed, and it seemed to anger the Road Raider chief, who said eee ‘Pll stand no nonsense, Buckskin Bill, but will have . money or your life.” “ Pard, I have given you every dollar I have: but I hold an order from Hal Rice to his agent in town to let me have what money I need. ‘* Now that is all I can do for you.” The Road Raider chief uttered an oath and as the woman had handed over a snug little sum, and the three male passengers a few hundred more, he seemed satiated and waying to his men to follow him, he dashed away across the prairie. CHAPTER XXV. aa SUSPICIONS. THERE was one Ping that seemed strange to Stage-Driver Buck Robbins, and that was that, whenever he carried any By pri Si who were supposed to be ‘‘ well fixed,” as he expressed it, the Road Raiders were sure to halt him. In his stage-driving on that trail he had been halted seven times out of some sixty trips, and each time he had had passengers who had con- siderable money with them. A strange thing about it, too, was that the Raiders never halted the coach on its home run, but upon the trip to the town, when the passengers were supposed. to have money with them. - This fact Buckskin Bill had noticed, in con- versing with Buck upon the subject, and when he returned home from his trip to town, armed with his new weapons and outfit, he had placed his handsome saddle and bridle upon his mus- tang and ridden over to see Dan Ellis. He found Dan just about to start upon a _ scalp-hunting expedition, and said: “Tm glad I caught you, Dan, for I wish to have a talk with you.” ‘Well, Bill, what’s up?” ** T’ve been to the town.” ** So I heerd yer hed gone; but let me look at yer rifle and weepins.” “Them’s daisies to kill, and no mistake,” he said admiringly, and from the rifle to the bridle he was charmed with Buckskin Bill’s purchases. **Now, Pard Bill, hev yer leetle say,” said Dan, after he had admired the outfit. ‘We were stopped by the Road Raiders on the trail over, Dan.” eads, wee, is a cunning lot, I’ve heerd,” “T took them all in, horses too, as well as I , Dan.” “Pll bet yer,” _. “And Dan, they seem to know just when there are folks aboard with dust. St nc enpes 1 waa headed Sets, e knew me, that I was su to have dust.” cont 4 _ * What do you think of it, Billy?” ay ’ ; : think that somebody in the settlement is a — “Lordy.” | “Don't it look som” *“Tt do.” “Well, I am sure it is so.” cp consider who it is, Pard Bill!” _ “Taskad my father if he tolh. he intended to give me. ere: ne wwe Buskekin Bill, that he asked Hal Rice, as I requested him to do, to give me an order on the bank instead of the cash.” Well?” ‘* He did not speak to any one else about it, except my mother.” ** Then how did it git out? ‘*T went to see Hal Rice, before I came here, and asked him about it, and he said that the new school-teacher was in the store, when father asked him for the order, and he was seated at the desk making up his books, which he pays him to do.” ‘**Tt couldn’t be thet teacher let it out, Billy.” ‘*T don’t wish you to start on the trail yet, but to do something for me?” “Tl do it, Bill.” ‘* Keep your eyes on that school-teacher for a few days, and let me know just what he doves,” Tl] stick close to him, Bill.” ** Don’t let him suspect your scheme?” ‘* Trust me for that.” ‘ After some further conversation Buckskin Bill left the cabin of the scout and half an hour 82 dismounted at the settlement store of Hal ice. Hal Rice was a man of considerable means. He had been a miner in New Mexico, and saving his money, had decided to increase it by keeping a store in a border settlement. The spot he had chosen was a good one, for there were several hundred families within a radius of thirty miles, and the prices he got for his goods gave him a very large profit, so that he could afford to meet with losses from the In- dians now and then. He had built a large log-cabin, surrounding it with a high stockade wall, so that his store was called ‘‘ The Fort” by the settlers, He kept two-score of weapons—rifles and re- volvers—ready loaded in a sack, so as to be got at easily in case of an Indian raid, and there were two men to look after his mule teams and wagons, so that he was able to call upon them for help in case of need. Once the Comanches had paid his store a visit, but the resistance they had met with had been such that they retreated empty-banded. In his store Hal Rice kept a large steck con- stantly on hand, and, as the reader has seen, when he wished to replenish he was wont to hire teamsters and a guard to send along with bis wagons to the town. Since the stage-coach had begun to run, all small articles came by it for the store, and the wagon-train had to make less frequent trips. The che of his wagons and running off of his mules had not distressed the good-hearted storekeeper as much as had the loss of Pilot Pete and the others who had been killed. ‘* Money will buy more mules and wagons and goods, but dust won’t buy life,” he had said to Squire Middleton, Buckskin Bill he greatly admired, and was wont to say that he wished he had married and was the father of just such a youth. When Buckskin Bill rode up to his door, he called out: ‘* What! back again, Billy?” “Yes, Mr. Rice, I want to get a few things for home which I forgot.” ‘Come in, my boy.” And the storekeeper arose from his rustic chair, in which he had been seated out upon the little oe zza,and went into the commodious cabin. Bill made a few purchases, and then said: ““Mr. Rice, I think I shall have to make an- other trip to town.” When, Billy?” f Next week, when Buck goes.” Don’t your new weapons suit you?” Oh, yes; but then there are several of the settlers who wish to send considerable money to town to bank, and wish me to take it for them.” ““T see; but you had better take your horse for it, Billy, asthe Road Raiders might strike the coach, you know.” “They won’t know about my having money, and I can hide it away under the seat ina leather bag that will look like a coach cushion.” “You're cunning, Billy; but don’t speak of it to any one.” “No, [’ll keep dark about it, you may be sure, for I guess there’l] be over two thousand dollars in the lot, all gold, and Lapeer twice as Much; but I must be off,” and takin his pur- “ec “ Buckskin Bill mounted his horse and homeward. \ CHAPTER XXVI. : THE HIDDEN TREASURE, er the visit of and the store of Hal Price, \ ‘ ave the Comanche Shadow. the stage that left on its. regular weekly trip for the town, carried but one passenger, : That one was Buckskin Bill, and he rode in- side, instead of upon the box with Buck, the driver. Why he did so, Buck did not understand, and. also regretted, for he was fond of talking and had found the youth a remarkably oe listener. The coach had not been halted y the Road- Raiders since the time upon which Buckskin Bill had gone, and Buck had said: we “*T hopes you'll git through all right this time, ard Billy.’ When on the prairie, not far from a stream heavily fringed with timber, a sudden call from Buck caused Buckskin Bill to glance quickly out of the window. “*Tt’s the Raiders, Billy.” ‘*T see them, Buck,” was the cool reply. Out from the timber had dashed the ‘“‘ Nine Pins” as the driver had called them, stretched out in a long line, and riding so as to encircle the: stage. Buck had at once come to a halt, while he. said: “If yer hasn’t any dust, Billy, they’ll be mad as a Comancte.” ’ Bill made no reply, but calmly watched the: sc Roe of the robbers. hey were mounted, he saw, upon the same: horses as before, with perhaps the exception of the chief, and they came on ut a swinging gallop,. their rifles ready for use. In afew moments they had surrounded the. coach, and the leader called out: “ Ho, Driver Buck, how many pilgrims?” ““Only one, and yer'll git poor pickin’ this: time, or I are a liar.” “7 beg leave to differ with you, Pard Buck,” and the chief rode up to the door of the coach. himself, holding a revolver in his hand. ** Ah! it is you, my fine fellow?” he said. ‘Yes, we meet again, and some day we will a once too often for your good,” quietly said ill, “You think so, eh?” “ce Yes.” ‘No threats, or you may find me as cruel a. foe as the Comanches.” **T do not doubt it.” “* Come, out with your money, Bill Middleton,, for I am in a hurry.” “ How is it that you know me?” ‘* Never mind, but you see that I do, so out: with your money.” ‘*T have but precious little with me.” **T know better.” ““Here are four dollars, all the money —E have.” “Tt is not so.” “*T tell you the truth.” **'You lie, and you know it.” 2 — not.” ‘**'You have gold with you.”” “Then search me.” ‘*T prefer to search that cushion, ‘Hand it out!” Buckskin Bill laughed and said: “‘ The cushion?” “ Yes.” Be handed out one of the cushions of the coach. é “Tt is too light; give me the one you are sit- ting on.” ‘* Ain’t they all alike?” No!” “ Buckskin Bill’s face now wore a worried look, and seeing it the Road Raider said: **Come, hand over that cushion if you value your life.” . ‘Say, don’t take this, for I admit there is. something in it, but it was intrusted to me,” * Give it to me, I say!” Buckskin Bill still hesitated, and the Road Raider thrust his revolver into his face. ‘Take it then!” he said fiercely, as he moved. his seat. an The man grasped the cushion, which in a arance was like the others in the coach, only & found it lo heavy, He however drew it up before him on the sad-. dle, and with a bow of mock politeness said: ar This time it is not paper money, Buckskin: ** Good-by.” é te He wheeled his horse quickly and rode away’ Land wifct it Tdidn’t kn game rd n ow yer little e.. “I deciar’ this are awful, fer thet cushion were well loaded,” Buck said, in a sympathetic: } tone. : em was a heavy prize, Buck,” replied Then the stage rolled. on once more; but it.
Page 14
14 hadn’t gone very far before Bill saw that the ‘Road Raiders bad gotten out of sight. Then he called out: *¢ Hold on, Buck!” “ Well, pard?” *¢] will start back on foot.” ** Don't do it, Billy.” “Yes, I will return to the settlement.” ** Don’t be a fool, pard.” “© T will not go on, and I can get back by alittle after nightfall.” ““T wish you wouldn’t do it, Billy, for thar’s wolves on the way.” ‘‘T don’t mind wolves any more than I do buffaloes, Buck.” * Then thar’s Injuns.” ‘T guess not any down so far as this, Buck.” “The Road Raiders might turn back on you.” “They have gone to their retreat to count their treasure.” ‘“*Waal, yer will go?” * Yes.” “T hates ter see yer; but if yer must, good- by, Pard Billy.” The young borderer dismounted from the stage, and with a wave of his hand to Buck, started upon the back trail to the settlement, A walk of several miles brought him to a clump of timber, and as he entered it he saw a man advancing toward him. . It was Dan Bilis and he was leading his own and Buckskin Bill’s horses, and it looked as though the meeting between the two w.s not an accidental one, CHAPTER XXVII. BUCKSKIN BILL’S PLOT, ““WaAL, Pard Billy, yer seen ’em?” Such was the salutation of Dan Ellis, when he met Buckskin Bill in the motte, ‘“Yes, they robbed me,” ** Got the treasure?” * They did.” * And hev gone?” “Yos, they lost no time in getting off to their stronghold to count it.” ** Too bad.” ‘*Tt will be.” *‘ Now which way?” “Back to the settlement, Dan, and we'll lose no time.” Mounting their horses they rode away at a canter, and it was just about sunset when they drew up at the store of Hal Rice. “What, back again, Billy?’ cried Hal Rice, who was surprised, as he had seen the youth de- part in the coach early that morning. “Yes, the Road Raiders robbed me, andso I came back.” “What! did ey get your gold?” “ As nicely as I supposed it was hidden, the ot the cushion,” and Bill entered the store with Fal Rice, followed by Dan Hillis. Do you mean to say that you were robbed, Pard Billy?’ asked a young man, rising from a desk where he was at work on the storekeepers books. It was Braxton Canfield, the school teacher, who had been engaged to take the place of Par- son Green, as the dominie found he had all the work he cold do to preach, and visit his numer- ous flock, se had gladly yielded up to another the duty of teaching the children of the settle- ment. “Yes, Mr. Canfield, I was robbed,” replied Buckskin Bill. “ So I heard you say to Mr. Rice,” responded the teacher, who aided the storekeeper after school hours, by keeping his books for him. “Tt is too bad,” said Braxton Canfield with real sympathy in his voice. * But did they threaten your life?” “Yes, the chief of the Road Raiders advanced to the coach door and, thrusting his revolver in my face demanded my money, or ny life, just like this.” As he spoke Buckskin-Bill thrust his own re- volver in the face of the teacher, and continued in a low, earnest tone: ‘Teacher Canfield, hands up or I will kill you!” The man started back, and Hal Rice uttered a ery of amazement, but Buckskin Bill repeated: i Hands up, or I fire!” Up went the man’s hands, while he hissed orth: ‘* What does this mean, Buckskin Bill?” “Yes, what. does it mean?” cried Hal Rice, Without replying at once, Billy said: “Dan, take his spurs, for he’s fixed.” Dan quickly step forward and took re- volvers from under the loose coat worn by the teacher, ‘* Now the rope, please, Dan.” ‘hp sebut cok’ & amall Seah oan mre ee > rope from his pocket —- ~~ i ! t 7 nF and quickly bound the teacher, while Hal Rice again asked: ‘Billy, what in the name of thunder do you mean?” ‘‘Mr. Rice, I mean that this man is the spy of the Road Raiders, for we have convicted him of so being.” ‘Tt 1s a lie!” shouted Braxton Canfield. ‘Tt cannot be, Bill,” Hal Rice ardded, “Tt is, but let us close the store, and I'll tell you all,” and impressed by the manner of the youth, Hal Rice closed his store, and lighting a amp, said: ‘Now, out with it, Billy.” The teacher was as white as a corpse, and stood glaring at his young accuser like a tiger at bay. ‘Twas surprised when I was told by the Road Raider chief that he knew I had money, on my other trip to town, and T asked who had known it besides my father and yourself. “You told me that the teacher was here at the time. “Tuen I got Dan to watch the teacher, and I did the same, and you remember that I told you 1 was going to town to take some money?” “ r te) “T said I would put it in a cushion like those in the coach?” “ Yes. ” “Well, when I told you that, this man sat behind the desk, working on your books, ‘¢‘] saw him there and said it for bis benefit.” ‘‘ Yes, I remember he was there, Billy.” ‘Well, that night he left his cabin and met a horseman three miles from here, and then re- turned home. ‘*T came and told you when I was to take the stage, and he heard me, and while I went out to the stable, and was working on a leather cusbion there, putting something into the moss filling and sewing it up, this man came out and saw me, ‘‘ He followed me to see what I was doing. “That night he again went out to the motte and met a horseman, but he little dreamed that Dan Ellis was upon his trail.” “Curse you!” came from the lips of the teacher. ‘What I putin the cushion was not gold, as he supposed, but nails and lead, and that is what the Road Raiders got, and are mad enough by this time at being fooled.” ‘Oh Billy!” said Hal Rice, “The neighbors sent their money on the other trip of the coach, so that went through all right, and my old cushion was opened. *‘ Now do you believe that this man is guilty, Mr. Rice?” ** Tt looks so.” “Tt is a base lie, that these two have con- cocted against me.” ““ Well, Braxton Canfield, I am going to give you a chance for your life, belore t tell the set- tlers.” ; “What do you mean?” and the man turned livid. “T mean that you must lead a party of us to the retreat of the Road Raiders. “Tf you do, well and good for yourself, for you shall go free unharmed. ** But if F fie do not, I will call the settlers to- gether, and you will, be lynched as sure as you are a spy and a thief. * Now, which will you do?” The man made no reply. “Quick! will you betray your comrades in crime, or will you die?” ‘+ You know we will stand no nonsense, Can- field,” said Hal Rice. “Not a bit, pard,” added Dan Ellis, “My life is dearer to me than the lives of others, so I’ll squeal. ‘But do 1 get a pledge from you all that I can go free unharmed?” bluntly said the man. “ Yes,” ““T say so.” “You kin go free, only don't linger around these parts,” added Dan Ellis, after the others had answered. “T accept your terms,” ‘‘ Well, we will at once get the settlers living nearest here together and start to-night, for we can pick up a dozen men besides ourselves, 00 the way,” said Buckskin Bill. So it was decided, and fifteen minutes after, the party had set out from the store, the treacherous traitor tied to his horse, and turned over to Dan Ellis for safe-keeping, While Buck- skin Bill and Hal Rice rodeon ahead to gather ry the settlers living nearest the trail they wero e. Before midnight sixteen men had assembled at a given rendezvous, and by common consent Buc Bill was made n, as it was Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. through his plotting that the Road Raiders were to be run to earth. Then, with Braxton Canfield, pale and silent, riding between Buckskin Bill and Dan Ellis, the party set out upon the raid upon the Raiders, all well armed and mounted. CHAPTER XXVIII. CONCLUSION, Tr raid upon the Road Raiders proved to be a perfect success, for, true to his desire to save his own life, Braxton Canfi_ld had led the band of settlers directly upon the secret camp of the outlaws, It happened to be the home of a settler, whom no one had suspected of being an outlaw, but who had beena year only a dweller on that part of the border. He had several cattle-men with him, as he called them; but they were members of his outlaw band, while others were constantly kept hiding in the chapparal, spying out, as they could, work for their lawless bands to ac- complish. Braxton Canfield’s brother was the captain of the Road Raiders, while he, with a good edu- cation, had sought occupation in the settlement as school-teacher, while he could at the same time serve as spy for his lawless comrades, But for the cunning of Buckskin Bill, he might long have kept up bis wicked work, and more, would have made a beautiful girl, the daughter of a settler, his wife. The Road Raiders had been surprised in their cabin, the door being opened at the’call of Brax- ton Canfield, and though they resisted, when they saw they were in a trap, they were quick- ly subdued, after two of them had been shot. Braxton Canfield had been at once-allowed to depart, but ere he got out of hearing, he heard his brother’s curse upon him, as he swung into the air at the end of a rope. After this exploit, the mother of Buckskin Bill became so nervous at the wild life he was leading, that, from her entreaties, he consented to go away to school, and soon after departed for St. Louis. After two years spent there, he began the study of medicine, which his experience under Death-Killer had given him a fancy for. After attending a course of medical lectures, Buckskin Bill went to the Indian Territory to visit his family, and once among the old scenes, the old love of adventure came back upon him with full force, and in his heart a bitter feeling of revenge revaved when he was told that his oldfpard, Dan Ellis, after having nailed above his door over a dozen scalps, had been captured by Fire Byes and his warriors and cruelly put to death. One morning the family awoke, to find Buck- skin Bill gone on the war-path, for so said a- note he had left for his father. ; Mounted upon a splendid horse, and with the most improved weapons, Buckskin Bill took the trail to avenge Dan Ellis, and before long it be- came known that Comanche scalplocks were be- ing tacked upon the door of the dead scout’s de- serted cabin. t So persistently did Buckskin Bill hunt down his red foes, that before very long he became known as the Comanches’ Shadow. One day, severely wounded, he rode up to the home of a well-to-do settler, and too weak to help himself, he was borne into the house ang tenderly cared for. For weeks there was one wko watched over him by night and day, and happy indeed she was when he was out of all danger. That kind nurse was Frankie Willard, grown into a beautiful girl of sixteen, and, at her entre ty Buckskin Bill gave up bis wild life and once more went back to his studies, When he next returned to. the Indian Terri- tory, it was to claim Frankie Willard as his wile, for she was there, teaching school in the same little log school-house where the scholars under Buckskin Bill bad beaten off the Co- manches, and where afterward the Teacher- Spy, Braxton Canfield, had taught “ young ideas how to shoot.” f The settlement had in the mean time become much more thickly popmared, and yet all knew well the name of Buckskin Bill, the Shadow of the Comanches, and When he was married to pretty Frankie Willard, many a warm hand- shake. he received, with congratulations and good wishes for @ long and happy life. And little do.those dream now, who meet the allant bordermen among the marts of busy fife, of the many perils he has passed through in following red-skins over crimson trails.
Page 15
EBB Publ a BY OLL COOMES. . p Old Kit Bandy, Detective. _ 146 Kit Bandy, Detective; or, Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 168 Kit Bandy in Texas; or, The Young Mustanger. 208 Kit Bandy’s Catch; or, The Boy Hercules. 422 Kit Bandy’s Right Bower; or, Baby Saw,the Boy Giant 444 Kit Bandy’s Swoop; or, Little Buckskin, toe Centaur, 478 Kit Bandy’s Slick Scheme; or, Old Tom Rattler. 661 Kit Bandy’s Deliverance; or, Banner Bsn. 680 Kit Bandy’s Parad; or, Dauntless Dan, the Freelance. 791 Kit Bandy ay ey or, The Injant Giant, 795 Kit Bandy in Red Ruin; or, The Young Whirlwind. a 799 Kit Bandy’s Big Ruatie; or, Saddle King Sam. ore 804 Kit Bandy’s Brigade; or, Dan, the Mountain Guide. i ‘% Jack Drew, Detective. 158 Jack Drew, the Nemesis, or, Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 182 Jack Drew’s Drop; or, Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain, 202 Jack Drew in Deadwood; or, Prospect Pete. . Keen-Knife. 27 Keen Knife on Guard; or, Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 81 Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. Other Novels by Ol] Coomes, & Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 18 ‘The Dumb Spy. 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. - 58 The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. 74 Hawk-eye starey the Young ae Ranger. 88 Rolle, the Boy Kanger; or, The Heiress. L N84 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman, ey eae 148 Scar-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. ‘R18 Viger Tom, the Texas Terror. 224 Dashin Dieks or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 ee Van re, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, . 248 The Dixguined Gulde; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger. ee pe 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. ra be 272 Minkakin Mike, the Boy Sharpshootem 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy; or, Old Culeb Arbuckle. B00 The Sky Demon; or, Kainbolt, the Ranger. 884 Whip-King Joe, the Bey Ranchero. 409 Hercules; vr, Dick, the Poy Ranger. AIT Webfoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. 457 Wingedfoot Fred; or, Old Polar Saul. 468 Tamarne ‘Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. 462 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. 652 Don Barr, the Plains Freelance, G70 Norway Nels, the Big Bov Mountaineer. ZIS Highland Warry, the Wizard Rifleman. sRY T. ©. NARBAUGH. Nie’ ‘the Night; or, The Boy Spy of ’76, Nth Hidden Lodge; or The Little Hunter. Dan «BB oR of ' 74 tingale Nat j or, Tne Forest Captains. ir 6 ly Jack ; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trat.. 82 Kit Harefoot, the Wood-Hawk; or, Old Powder-face, r 94 Midnight Jack 3 or, The Boy Trapper. 396 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, - 428 Klewa Charley the White Mustanger. 89 Judge Lynch Jr.i or, The Boy Vigiiante. 55 Gol: Trigger, the Sport; or, The Girl Avenger. 69 Tornado Tom; or, Injun Jack From Red Core, le, the Border Boy; or, The Mad Hunter. sr, The Quecn of Fate’s Revenge, ‘Bp ag a , co’ ‘ r of Take-Notice. $86 Rig Benson: or, The Queen of the Lasso. B45 Pitiless Matt; or, Ked Thunderboli’s Secret, B56 Oool ~am and Pars: or The Terrible Six, 66 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective, B86 Captain Cutlass; or, | he Byccaneer’s Girl Foe. B96 ‘ough Rob; or, The | win Champions of Blue Blazes, “ALL The Silken Lasso cr, The Rose of Ranch Robin. 418 F Fox, the Boy Spotter; or, The Gold Gang of New York, 425 Texas Trump, the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Maan, the New York Fox; or, The Mystery of Room 21, _ 445 Phe City Vampires; or, Ked Rolie’s Pigeon. { 461 One Against Pifty ; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar. ? e¢ Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox's Hunt. : ~ a? he &xceisior Sport: or, The Washington Spotter. - 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 602 Branded Ben, ae | the Night # t. Dodger Dick, the Whart-Spy Detective. 1 Rodger Nick's Best Dodge; or, The Gotham Gold Gang, — 628 Fox and Faicon, the Bowery Shadows. 1 Sts Gearte Butts Beckie 4 bodger Dick’s Double » Th yal Boy Detectives, 5S Dodker Dick's Despereic' ote 68 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidocg: or, The G These: 78% The Two Shadows; or Ded Dick zane! 4 fed re) ck’ » a i. R Dodger Dick's Prony i, The Man frou Jersey. i Te Lon, the Street-Singer Detective, 0 Old Skinner, the Lab gil > Tony Sharp on Guard. The C pion _Pards; or, L Mice aes. Doan, the Dock Boy Delaciee of Silver Bar, ® Kit, the Pavement Sharp. Billy Bantam, Ps etd oul i ct ed, the Boy Hustler; or, Shadow! : ved Fath, the Boy Musician Detective the Shadower. ; h Fred, the Camera Sharp. a wak 4 n, the Quaker City Ferret, : rake Len, the e erre’ ey Dells the Pavement Detective; or, Trapping Big Game Tinka, the Bell Boy Detective. & . iy I Rov Shadow : inka, the Poss * Shadow. © Ned, the Boy on Guard; or, The Camp Spiders, away Tom, the Red Wizard, UOKSKIN SAM (Major Sam. 8. Mall) 4 Rocky « «7 or, Benito, the Horse-Breake: Hant George; ‘te fe Ang’ of the Range. . rizona Janek or, Giant George’s Pard. Tarantula of Taon: or, Giant George’s Revenge, BOT " ‘he Strange. ard Little Ben’e Death Hunt. ; Bhs bivans Ke ad or, The Tarantula of Taos, —a eeping Cat, th P The Red and White Pi Frio Fred; or, The Tonkanay’s Fras per » Fighting Trio: or, Rattlesnake, the Tonkaway, Id Wolf or, Big-Foot Wallace to the Front. Ranch Raldera 1 or, The Siege of Fort Pargatory. a ip. a r, Three Thunderbolts. meee Ranch e ‘ ’s Big “ Pecan Pete tearenh Rampage. | ) ) j | | / / ae ee | | | EADLE’S* H ALF-DIME*] IBRARY. _ ished Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cenis. No Double Numbers. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes ofa Bowery Gir!. 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. ¥ Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. Joe Buck of Angels and His Buoy Pard. New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and Traps in Gotham. New England Nick; or, The Fortunes of a Foundling. Nimble Nick, the Circus Prince. ‘Taos Ted, toe Arizona Sport. Cool Colorado, the Half-Breed Detective Cool Colorado in New York; or, The Cowboy’s Fight, BY GEORGE 0. JENKS, S Git Thar Owney the Unknown. Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. The Demon Doctor; or, Deadholi, the Kid Detective. Double-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective. $ Flute, the Singer Detective; or, Owney in a New Role, The Pitcher Detective’s Foll; or, Dan’s Double Play, 616 The Ocean Detectives or. The Last Cruise of the Black Bear, 681 The Pitcher Detective’s Toughest Tussle. 786 Larry the Thoroughbred; or, Beaten on Every Side. @79 Lron Hand, the Charmed Detective RY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 WILl Somers, the Boy Detective. 122 Phil Wardy, the Boss Boy. Picayune l’ete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. Detective Dick ; or, The Hero tu Rags, Mandsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, W1ll Wildfire, the Thoroughbred, Black Beas, Wil! Wildfire’s Racer. Mike Merry the Harbor Police Boy. Will Wildfire in the Woods, 5 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy, A Trump Card or, Wil! Wildfire Wins and Loses Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, é ‘The Hidden Hand; or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge. Fred Malyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers, Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. Shadowed ; or, Bob Kockett’s Fight for Late. Dark Paul, the Tiger King. Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. Lom Tanner} or, The Black Sheep of the Flock. Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 5 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. Dick Dashawny ¢ or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago, 262 The Young Sharps; or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail. 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’s Job; or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughpred. 805 Pashaway, of Dak otay or, A Western Lad in Quaker City, 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. ‘Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. The Reporter-Detective; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard, W ide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. Larry, the Leveler: or, The Bloods ot the Boulevard, Firetly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. The Lost Finger} or, The Entrapped Cashier, Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. Invincible Logwun, 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, 48s Wild Dick Racket: or, How He Fought for Honor. 501 Boots, the Boy Fireman: or, Vo Sharp for the Sharper, 566 The Secret service Boy Detective. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. 627 Tom Bruce of Arkansas; or, The Wolf in the Fold. 655 Plucky Paul, the Boy Speculator. 667 Bob and Sam, the Daisy Detectives. 709 The Curbstone Detective; or, Harry Hale’s Big Beat. %57 Detective Frank’s Sweep-stakes, BY J. W. OSBON, 469 The Rival Glants of Nowhar’. 498 Cactus Burr, the Man from Hard Luck. 587 Old Buckeye, the Sierra Shadow. 564 Powder Phil, the Boy Miner; or, The Man Without a Past. 609 Bolly Dorrit, the Veteran Detective, 620 Little Lightning’s League; or, The Mystery oftne Island 688 Plucky Paul, the Boy Prospector. 751 Gold-Dust Dan, the Trail Patrol. : 255 Gold Dust Dan’s Oath; or, Reckless Roy, the Regulator, BY JO PIERCE, 897 Rob o’ the Bowery ; or, The Prince of Mulberry Street. 415 The Vagabond Detective; or, Bowery Bob’s Boom, 452 Motsapur Bob, the Street-Boy Detective. 460 The Lawyer’s Shadow; or Luke’s Legacy. 472 Saunty Joe, the Young Horse-King. 494 Surly Sim, the Young Ferryman Detective, 504 Five Points Phil, the Pavement Prince. 509 Jack Jnggers, the Butcher Boy Detective. 516 Tartar im; or, Five Points Phil’s Menagerie. 526 North River Nat, the Pier Detective. 588 Wrestling Rex, the Pride ofthe Sixth Ward. 541 tefl Flicker. the Stable Boy Detective. 551 Nick Nettle, the Boy Shadow; or, The Old Well Mystery, i" fice Boy Detective. 559 Warlem Jack, the 569 Brooklyn Ben, the On-His-Own-Hook Detective, 5% fiivement Pete the Secret Sifter. } 588 dack-o’-Lantern, the Under-Sea Prospector. ROR Wide-Awnke Bert, the Street-Steerer. 614 Whistling Jacob, the Detective’s Aid. * 623 Buck Bumblebee, the Harlem Hummer. yt 4 4s nie awe ~~ Express-Train Ferret. 8. 349 Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger; or, Scooping a Sif et, 658 Sky-Rocket Rob, the Lite-Saver. #r Asa 683 Saltpeter Sol, the New York Navigator 694 Spley Sim, the Only One of His Kind. 706 Tom Thistle, the Road-House Detective. Mosquito Jack, the Hustler Gamin Dennis Duff the Brown Sport's Kid. 44 Dick of the Docks, the Night. W atch, $! Flipper Flynn, the Street Patrol. ba} ° mo > om wean 1 Foxy Fred's Odd Pard; or, The Keener’s Huge Hustle, 1 Cast-Off Cale, the Scapegoat Detective. N . GY PHILIP 8. WARNE, 67 Patent-Leather Joe; or, Old Rattlesnake, the Charme. 175 Uaprein Arizona; or, Patent-Leather Joe's Big Game, 198 Captain Mask; or, Patent-Leether Joe’s Defeat. 7 9 Deeper ~~ putes St, a eesew mag Vompires. 88 A Tour 'y.$ or, The Dwarf’s Revenge. B68 Little Tornados or, The Outeasts of the Glen. ttle ngoy or, @ Glueer Pard. ane Mastle yin we Rasgtets ris Real Far. 1 Little Shoo-f ly; or ace for a Ranch. 408 Little Leather-Breeches : or, Old Jumbo’s Curse, 481 Little Ah Sin3 or, The Curse of Blood. 451 Lelorado Rate: 2 Bye ge breve h Jolly Parday or, The Pets of Paddy’ 4 its Sim Gladdor’s Deputy; or, The Telly Farrece ign. Biz Aho dolly Parde co.the iescucy or, The Juck of Heute andy Andy3 °, q i Lil; or, The Cast for a Life, sollte the Man with the Dogs, m, the Ranch Irxp. ; # r the No-Name Sport, seri ; c ay or, The Skeleton’s Legacy. oa a cures HA the Blye-Coat Scont. ~ LP hadi x Wise Winds ot, The Beant Jenobale eloteleiried e) :] pecs “i cote 45 TATA “199 BY JOSEPH bE. BADGER, JR, 2 Vellowstone Jack ; or, The Trapper. ‘ 4% Black John, the Koad-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat, i 65 Hurricane Biil; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard, 19 Mustang Sam; or, The King of the Plains. 86 Night-llawk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch, Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 61 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. +i The Barranca Wolf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. 5 Chincapin Dan, the Boy Trafler. 7 Chineapin Dan’s Second Trall. § Chincapin Dan’s Home Stretch. 8 Old Crazy, the Man Without « Head, Light-Heart Lute’s Legacy. § Light-Heart Lute’« Last Trail. Silverblade, the Shoshone. Stilverblade, the Half-Blood; or, The Border Beagle at Bay. Silverblade, the Hostile; or, The Border Beag!e’s Tratl. Silverblade the Friendly; or, The Border Beagle’s Boy Paré BY EPWARD WILLETT. Asa Seott, the Steamboat Boy; or, The Mississippi Pirates, Featherweight the Boy Champion vf the suuskinguu. 228 Ozark Alf’; or, Featherweight Among the Outlaws, 282 The Typo Detective; or, Wease), the Boy Tramp. 295 Feurless Phil; or, The King.of Quartzville. 811 The Roving Sport; or, The Pride of Chuckaluck Camp, B22 Nemo, the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon’s Vendetta. '840 Clip the Contortionist: or, The Montana Vigilantes, BY JACK FARRAGUT. 815 Ned, the Cabin Loy; or, The Witch of the Fort, ‘ $20 The Sea Sorceress; or, The Boy Shipper. ? BY LIFUT. ll. D. PERRY, U. 8 N. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Buccaneer ot the Bay. 180 The Sea Tratler; or, A Vow Well Kept. oy 192 Captain Kit; or, The Myster; of Montauk Point. i RY OAPTAIN MAYNE REID. , 7% Blue Dick; or, The Yellow Chief's Vengeance, 87 The Land Pirates; or, The League of Devil’s Island, 187 The telpless Hand; or, Backwoods Retribution, 289 The Gold-secker Guide? or, The Lost Mountain, BY CAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR UT. 8. A 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Buffalo BILI’s Bet; or, The Gambler Guide, BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, 256 Young Kentuck?: or, The Red Lasso. 270 Blizzard Bens or, The Riot at Keno Camp. \ 286 Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot. ' { BY MAJOR E. L. 8ST. VRAIN, 292 Rancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit. 807 Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport. 812 Kedtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince. +, $88 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quarvette, <% 852 ‘Tombstone Tom, the Arizona Boy of * Sand,”” ‘- BS5V Durango Bave, the Youny Chany ion Wrestler. B71 Kingboit Chris, the Yung Hard-Shell Detective. S80 Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. ; 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountsin Mail-Line. ' ; BY EPWARD 8, ELLIS. 6 BUL Biddon, Trapper. 8 Seth Jones; or, The Captives of tne Frontier. "30 Nat Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive, 'S1 ‘wne Frontier Angel. 98 The Boy Miners; or, The Enchanted Island, i 182 The Hunted Hunter; or, The Strange Horseman, i 254 The Half-Blood; or, The Panther of the Plains. 271 The Huge Hunter; or, The Steam Prairie Man, MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORS, 4 The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Frederick Whittaker. 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen, 12 Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift. 14 Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp. 16 Robinaon Crusoe. (27 Ilustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages, 22 The Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. By Juan Lewis. The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the - Garribees, By S, W. Pierce. ' P 86 The Boy Clown; or, The Arena Queen, By ¢ 8. Finn, ute B% Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. ; 51 The Boy ives; or, The Underground Camp. By A.C. Irons, 95 The Rival Rovers; or, The Freebooters of the Mississippte By Lieut.-Col. Hazeltine. 98 Robin Hood, the Ovtiawed Ze7); or, The Merry Men of Green- wood. By Prof. Gildersleeve. 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain Hamilton Holmes. 112 The Mad liunter; or, |beCave of Death. By Burton Saxe. 124 Tippy, the Texan; or, The Young Champion. By George eeson. 128 The Young Privateers or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By Harry Cavendish. 148 Sharp Sam; or, The Adventures or a Friendless Boy. By J. Alexander Patten. 227 Duaky Darrell, Trapper: or, The Green Ranger of the Yel- : lowatone, By Edward Emerson. is, ; 261 Fergna Fearnaught the New York Boy. By@, L. 266 Kilib’ar, the Guide; or, Davy Crockett's Crooked By Ensign ©. D. Warren, 298 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid of the Cliff. By Captain Comstock. t : 817 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Lieu- tenant Alfred Thorne. 828 The Sky Detectives or, A Boy’s Fight for Life and By Maior Mickey Free. ig 850 Heed Ralph, the River Rovers or, The Brother’s Re- — } venge. By Ned Buntline, ui 265 Baltimore Ren the Bootblack Detective, By A, P. ATR: 874 Gold-Duet Toms or, Ben’s Double Match. ByG H. Morse, dah iy 8 6 Callfornian Joe’s First Trail. By Colonel Thomeg = Hoyer Monstery. ~ ‘ dt hs 167 0 of 8 ‘ }
Page 16
ac ht le a a A EK A A BEADLE'’S« H ALF- DIME« LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sc en ene ld at the Uniform Price of Five Cents, by all Newsdealers.. = SSS BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, Deadwood Dick Novels. 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Deadwood Pick’s Defiance; or, Double Daggers. 28 Deadwood Dick in Disguise; or, Buffa). Ben 85 Deadwood Dick in His Castle. 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; or, The Phantom Miner. 49 Deadwood Dick tn Danger; or, Omana OIL, 57 Deadwood Dick’s Engles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. Fh peeavers ta oaks re Calamity 3 ne Rare eadwood Pick’s Last Acti or, Corduroy Charlie, 100 Deadwood Dick tn Leadville. il 164 Deadwood Dick’« Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 129 Deadwood Dick’« Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost, yi | oy Neate od oe Base} or, Blonde Bill, eadwooc ek’s #z Strike; or, A Game of Gold. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Bick’s Dream; or, The Rivils of the Road. 201 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. ate presewrese Bees ates Be: a ad Jane’s Adventure, endwoo ck’s Dead Deal. 221 Deadwood Dick’s Death-Plant. 282 Gold-Duat Dick. A Romance of Rougha and Teughs, Fo pe el teks pivides or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. endwo ck’s Death Trail. 809 Deadwoed Dick’« Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen} or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats 847 Deadwood Pick’sa Ducata; or, Days in the Diguings. pas pead weed ne pa or, The Terrible Vendetta, eadwo ck’s Claim, 405 Deadwood Dick In Dead City. 410 Deadwood Dick’s Diamabas. 421 Deadwood Pick in New Yorks or, A “ Cute Case,” 480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand. bet enawece Bik’ si or he Crimson Crescent Sign. endwoo sk, Jr.’a, Defiance. 458 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s Full Hand. 459 Deadwood Diek, Jr.’«, Big Round-Up. 465 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«. Racket at Claim 10, ate pose raed Picks - ad ReneS ts Rosie Bill. end woo e r.’*; Dog Detective, 481 Deadwood Dick. drs, in Deadw cod, 491 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Compact. 496 penance’ Dick, Jr.’s. Inheritance, 508 Desdwood Dick? Srvn Selverns endwoo e rs, Deliverance. 615 Deadwood Dick; Jr.s, Protegee. 622 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«, Three, 56209 Deadwood Dick, dr.’s, Danger Pucks 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Death Hunt. bit Dendecce Bick» 5 hi he wa t Vid eadwood Dic Pe, the es ecg 5649 Deadwood Dick, Jr. on His Mettle. Bat Desdnecd Wek. Sr.; in Horton. endwoo ¢ r., In Boston, &67 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Philadetphia, rit peatwses Bite’ gies yc ode ret end wo ck. Jr. ont. S84 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Denver. 690 Deadwoed Dick, Jr.'s, Decree. 595 Deadwood Dick Jr., in Reelzebub’s Baain, 600 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Coney Island, Sie Dendvend Blak, Bras tw Detroit. 2 Deadwoo ok ° e bs 618 Deadwood Dick, Jr. In Cincinnati. 624 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Nevada, 680 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land, 686 Deadwood Dick, Jr., After the Queer. G42 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Buffalo... 648 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Chase Acrosathe Continent Seo Peck werk Wes dein laresense Gace } adw d x ance Case, 666 Deadwood Dick; Jr., Back in the Mines. 672 Deadwood Dick, Jr., tn Durango; or, “ Gathered In.” + peadweee 4m 5 etn eres or, Found a Fortune. . eadwo ck, Jr.’a. Dazzle. { ‘)w diek 7% Doll e $0 , oe babe Dick? oo at Danger Divide, Boe esawood Dick, dra, at Juck-Pot 0. cadwoo ek, Jr., at Jack-Pot. 710 Deadwood Dick’ Irs: in San Francisco. 716 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Still Hunt. $58 Decdvont Dick: Srce, Dinguise,. er dwoes ¢ rs aguise, 784 Deadwos ' Dick, Jr.'s, Deabie Deal. 440 Deadwoo: Dick, Jr.'s, Deathwatch. sae peewee, pisks | pee Maa ew uf endwoo: ck, Jr.’a, Deathblow. 758 Deadwoo:! Dick, Jr.'s, Desperate Strait. aco peaewovd Piers bs noes aad. ¢0 Deadwoo ek r.’8,) Defent, 776 Deadwood, Dick. J r.’s, Resurrection. see oes pene | 4 grey Dart Days. ST Deadwood ek, Jr.» Defied. 792 Meadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Double Device, 797 Deadwood Dick, Jr’.*, Desperate Venture, 802 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Diamond Dice, 807 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Royal Flush, 812 Deadwood Dick,’ Jr.'s, Head-off. 816 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Rival. BY WM. G. PATTEN. 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Sport; or, The Jubilee of Jaektown, 665 Violet Vanen Victory: or, The Jasper City Clean Out, 698 Violet and Daisy, the Posy Pards. 05 Violet Vane’s Vows or, The Crafty Detective’s Craft. #24 Violet Vane’s Vengeance; or, The Wipe-Out. 780 Violet Vane’s Verdict; or, The Game at Coffin City. ZA Violet Vane, the Ventriloquist Vidoeg: or, Sport vs. Sport, 250 Violet Vane, the Vanquished; or, The Life Struggte. 768 Violet Vane’s Visions or, The Fiery Hand of Fate. 4xY Lhe Diamond Sports or, The Double Face of Bed Rock, 519 Captain Myatery ; or, Five in One. 681 Daley Ware the Sport from Denver. BST Old Kombeshell, the Ranger Detective. 604 Tron Fern, the Maun of Fire: or, Among the Vultures, 619 The Bo Sal oy Detectives or, The Doubie Grip Witness 641 DPiamal Dave's Dandy Pards or, The Clue to Capt, Claw 651 Bound Boy Frank, the Young Amateur Detective 682 Wild Vulcan, the Lone-Range Rider, 714 Old Misery the Man from Missouri. 274 Clear-Grit Cal, the Never Say-Die Detective, 789 Sam Sheridan, the Secret Service Special. 806 Cowboy Steve the Ranch Mascot. BY COL. A. F, HOLT. $11 Weadlight Warry’s Flyers or, Duke Derby. $78 Headlight inrey’s Hazard; or, The Lightning Express tective. 91 Headlight Warry’s Mauls or, The Railroad Pards, 27 Neadlight Hurry’s Siren; or, Mad Madge. 59 Weadlight Warry’s Heritage. 94 It Hens Harry’s Hunt; or, The Cache of Gold. 99 Blac uckakiny or, The Masked Men of Death Canyon, & LAtti htfoot, the Pilot of the Woods, ne ‘Dany Sport; or, The King Pin Conspirator, Ft Kenneth, the Knife-King; or, The Doomed Six. Other Novela by E. L. Wheeler. 80 Rosebud Rob} or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. S84 Resebud Rob on Hand; or, Idyl, the Girl Miner. 88 Rosebud Rob's Keappearance; or, Photograph Phil. 121 Rosebud Rob's Challenges or, Cinnamon Chip. 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen; or, The Yankee's Surround 281 Benver Doll's Victory: or, Skul! and Crossbones. 285 Denver Doll's Decoy ¢ or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 296 Denver Doli’s Drift; or, The Road Queen. BES LZ reka Jim. the Gold-Guthererg or, The Life Lottery, 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize; or, The Wolves of Wake-Up. at 885 Yreka Jim's Jokers or, The Rivals of Red Nose. 889 Yreka Jim’a New Hote; or, Bicycle Ken, 894 Yreka Jin of Yuba Dam, 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective; or, Dot Leetle Game, 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloguist Hunter 244 Sicrra Sam, tho Frontier Ferret; or, A Sister’s Devotion. 248 Slerra Sams Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sierra Sam’s Pardy; or, The Angel ot Big Vista, 258 Slerra Sam’s Seven} or, The Stolen Bride. 884 Kangaroo Kits or, The Mysterious Miner, 9 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket; or, The Pride of Played-Out, 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York. 69 The Boy Detective; or, Guid Rifle, the Sharpshooter. 96 Watch-Eye, the Detective; or, Aroba and Angela, 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Spore Detective 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective, 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective, 226 The Arab Detective ; or, Snoozer, the Boy Sharp. 291 Turk, the Boy Ferret. 825 Kelley, Hickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia, 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Detective. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 Migh Hat Harry, the Base Ball Detective, 426 Sam Slabalides, the Beggar-Boy Detective, 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. 26 Cloven Ifoof, the Buffalo Demon; or, The Border Vultures, 82 Bob Woolf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 5S Jim Bludsoe, Ir, the Boy Phenix. 61 Backhorn Bilis; or, The Red Rifle Team 92 Canada Chet; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp, 118 Jack Moyle the Young Speculator. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner; or, Madam Mystery, the Forger. 188 Boss Bob the King of Bootblacks. 141 Solid Sam, the Bov Road-Agent; or, The Branded Brows, 177 Nobby Nick of Nevaday or, The Sierras Seampa. 181 Wild Frank the Buckskin Bravo; or. Lady Lily’s Love. 286 Apollo Billy the Trail Tornado; or, Rowdy Kate. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator; or, The Locked Valley. 278 Jumbo Joe, the Koy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 299 A No, 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. BO8 ’Liza Jane, the Girl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport. B80 Little Qu'ck-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville. 858 First-Class Fred, the Gent from Gopher. 878 Nabob Neds or, The Secret of Slab Clty. 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, 488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher; or, A Son’s Vengeance, 486 Sealakin Sam, the Sparkier; or The Tribunal of Ten, BY J, ©. COWDRIOK. Broadway Billy Novels, 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 514 Broadway Lilly’« Boodle; or, Cleming a Strange Case, 586 Broadway RBilly’« ‘Diftikilty.” 657 Broadway Billy’s Peath Racket. 579 Broadway Billy’s Surprise Party. 605 Broadway Billy; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning. 628 Broadway Billy’s Dead Act; or, The League of Seven, 669 Broadway Billy Abroad; or, The Bootblack in Frisco. 675 Broadway Billy’« Best; or, Beating San Francisco's Finest, 687 Broadway Billy tn Clover. 696 Broadway Rilly_ tn_ Texas; or, The River Rustlers, 708 Broadway Pilly’« Brand. 711 Broadway Billy at Santa Fe; or, The Clever Deal. 720 Broadway Billy’« Full Hand; or, The Gamin Detective. 785 Broadway Billy’« Business, 788 Broadway Billy’« Curious Case. 758 Broadway Hilly tn Denver. 762 Rroadway Billy’« Bargain; or, The Three Detectives, 769 Broadway Blily, the Retriever Detective, 775 Broadway Billy’s Shadow Chase, 788 Broadway’ Billy’s Beagles; or, The Trio’s Quest. 786 Broadway Billy’s Team; or, The Combine’s Big Pull. 790 Broadway Billy’s Brigade; or, The Dead Alive. 796 Broadway Billy’« Queer Bequest. 800 Broadway Billy Baffled. 805 Broadway Billy’« Signal Scoop. 810 Broadway Billy’s Wipe Out. 860 Ailver-Maek, the Man of Mystery; or, The Golden Keys, B69 Shaste, the Gold King ¢ or, For Seven Years Dead, 420 The Detecttve’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without » Name, 424 Cibuta Johny or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar, 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout, 467 Dlaco Dan, the Daisy Dnde. £06 Redlight Ralph the Prince of the Road. h24 The Engineer Detective; or, Redlight Ralph’s Resolve. BAS Mart, the Night Express Detective, B71 Alr-Line Luke the Young Engineer; or, The Double Case, 592 The Boy Pinkerton; or, Running the Rascals Out. 615 Fighting Harry the Chief of Chained Cyclone, 640 Bareback Beth, the Centaur of the Circle. 647 Ty pewrlter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgan, the * Pizenest ” Man of Ante Bar, BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS. 589 Tom-Cat and Pards or. The Dead Set at Silver City, 622 Tom-Cat’s Triad; or, The Affuir at Tombstone, 681 Tom Cat’a Terrible Task: or, The Cowboy Detective. 688 Tom-Cat’s Trinmphs or, Bleck Dan's Great Combine 546 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock; or, Josh’s Ten Strike. 568 The Dandy of Podge; or, Rustling for) Millions, 576 The Silver Sports or, Josh Penpermint’s Jubilee. 588 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow 601 Happy Wana, the Dutch Vidoog; or, Hot Times at Round-Up €11 Bildad Barnacle, the Detective Hercules 646 Cowhoy Gid. the Cattle-Range Detective. 657 Warbling William, the Mountain Mountebank. 665 Jolly Jeremiahs the Plains Detective, 676 Stenal Sam, the Lookont Scout. 689 Billy, the Gypsy Spy: or, The Mystery of Two Livess 699 Strap e Sim, the Rroncho Buster: or, For Big Stakes. 712 The Meamertat Sports or, The Mystified Detective. 788 Toltee Tom, the Mad Prospector, 745 Kanana Jim, the Croes-Cut Detective. 761 Marmaduke, the Mustanger Detective. 778 The Rustler of Rolling Stone. 785 Lone Hand Joe, the Committee of One. 801 Kent Kirby, the High-Kicker from Killbuck. = a BY BUFFALO BILL (ton. Wm. F. Cody). 8 Kanaane King? of, The Red Richt Hand. 19 e Ph ton Sony a or, The Pilot of the Pratt (a ah fended shin ia reste ie fver er n . 158 Fancy Frank of Col ad o4 or, The Trapper’s Trust, NAAN A npg tg tie a a gai tii tp ec i tei eta ta a BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 2 Dick Doom’s Death-Grip; or, The Detective by Destiny.. tT Dick Doom’s Destiny; or, The River Blackleg’s Terror, 4 Dick Doowms; or, ‘Ibe Sharps and Sharks of New York, 88 Dick Doom in Boston; or, A Man of Many Maske, ¢93 Dick Doom in Chicago. 798 Dick Doom in the Wild Weat. 808 Dick Doom’s Clean Sweep} or, Five Links in a Clue, 808 Dick Doom’s Death Clue, 818 Dick Doom’s Diamond Deal, ~ 749 Dashing Charlie; or, The Kentucky Tenderfoot’s First Trail. 756 Dashing Charlie’s Destiny; or, The Renegade’s Captive. 760 Dashing Charlie’s Pawnee Pard, 766 Dashing Charlfe, the Rescuer. 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys. * <8 Buck Taylor, the Comanche’s Captive, 48 Buck Taylor’s Boys; or, The Red Riders of the Rio Grande. 60 Pawnee Rill, the Prairie Shadower. 18 Pawnee Bill; or, Carl, the Mad Cowboy. 19 Pawnee PBill’s Pledge; or, The Cowboy's Doom, 25 Pawnee Hill; or, Daring Dick. ? dfern’s Curious Case; ot, The Rival Sharps, ern at Devil’s Ranch; or, The Sharp from Texas, ZO2 Redferw’s High Hands or, Blue Jacket. TOT Redfern’s Last Trail; or, The Red Sombrero Rangers, 668 Res Ralph’s Ruse; or, The Buccaneer Midshipman, 674 Red Ralph’s Bold Game; or, The Wizard Saflor, 679 Red Ralph, the Shadower, or, The Freebooter’s Legacy, 644 Butterfly Billy’s Disguise. 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Express Rider. 656 Butterfly Blliy’«s Man Hunt. 662 Butterfly Billy’« Bonanza. 565 Kent Kingdon}; or, ‘the Ow!s of the Overland. 570 Kent Kingdon’s Shadower} or, the Card Queen. b75 Kent Kinedon’s Duel; or, The Surgeon Scout. &S6 Kent Kingdon’sa Doom yor, The Buckskin Avenger. 545 Lafitte Run Downs or, The Ruccancers of Barrataria, 550 Lafitte’« Legacy: or. The Avenging Son. bBS Lalitte’« Confession: or, The Creole Corsair, 520 Buckskin BIll, the Comanche Shadow, 525 The Buckskin Brothers in Texas, 580 The Buckskin Bowers; or. The Cowboy Pirates. B85 The Buckskin Rovers; or, The Prairie Fugitive. 540 The Buckskin Pardes’ Quest: or, Captain Ku-Klux, 508 The Royal Middy} or, The Shark and tne Sea Cat. 507 The Royal Middy’s Luck; or, The Hunted Midshipman. 511 The Royal Middy’s Foe. : 450 Wizard Wl: or, The Boy Ferret or New York. 454 Wizard Wills Street Scouta. 4 474 Wizard Will's Pard; or, Flers, the Flower Girl, A88 Wizard WIlLl’s Last Case; or, The Ferrets Afloat, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 Duncan Pare’s Plot; or, A Cadi» Boy’s Luck, an Dare’s Prizes or, The Sea Raider 441 Dunean Dare’s Secret: or. The Ocean Firefly. 402 Iaodor, the Young Conaptrator; or, The Fatal League, 407 Ixodor’s Double Chasey or, The Boy Insurgent. 412 Ixodor’s War-Cloud Cruise; or, The Wild Yachtsman, 216 Rison Bl), the Prince of the Reins. 222 Risen Bill's Clue; or. Grit, the Bravo Sport, - 804 Dend Shot Dandy’s Dilemma, 808 Dead Shot Pandy’s Doubles cr, Keno Kit. R14 Dead Shot Dandy’s Defiance or, The Boy Bugler, 607 Dead Shot Dandy’s Chic f; or, The River Detective, 245 Merle Monte’s Leap fer Life. 250 Mertec Monte’s Mutiny ¢ or, Brandt, the Buccaneer, 264 Merle Monte’s Treasure Island. 269 Merle Monte the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’a Cruise; or, “ The Gold Ship ” Chase, 280 Merle Monte’s Fate; or, The Pirate’s Pride. 284 Merle Monte’s Pledge; or, The Sea Marauder. 197 The Kid Glove Sport or. Little Grit, the Wild Rider, 204 The Kid Glove Sport’s Doom; or, Buffalo Bill, the Pony Express Rider. 731 Ruth Redmond, the Girl Shadower, 6R6 Orlando, the Ocean Free Flag. 617 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scout. 602 The Vagabond ofthe Mines. bY? The Texan Detective; or, The Black Bravos, B91 Delmonte, the Young Sea Rover; or, The Avenging Sailor, bSO The Outcast Cadet; or, The False Detective. 495 Arizona doe; (r, The Boy Pard of Texas Jack. AST? Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger 468 Neptune Ned, the Koy Coaster; or, Pirate in Spite. 462 The Sailor Boy Wanderer: or, The Born Guide, 446 Haphazard Harry: or, The Sea Scapegrace 898 The Red Clasped Wands; or, The Boy Liettenant, B87 Warpath WIL. the Traitor Guide. BSS The Vadian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island, B77 Tonodel, the Buoy Rovers or, The Fingless Schooner. 27 Billy Blue-Eyes, of the Rio Grande. 287 Lone Star. the Cowboy Captain. ‘ 229 Orimaon Kate, the Girl Trailer; or, The Cowboy's Triumph, 116 The Hussar Captain: or, The Hermit of Hell Gate, 111 The Sen-Devil ¢ or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. 102 Dick Dead-Eye, the Smuggier ; or, The Cruise of the Vixen. 75 The Roy Pnellat; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf, 62 The Shadow Ship: or, The Rival Lieutenants. 24 Diamond Dirks or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buceaneer; or, The Fugitive Yacht. ? The Flying Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast, LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 8 ce Uigh, the Frisco Detective, By C. E. Trippy Sis ay pe Billy’s Bank Rackets or, The City Detec- tive’s Rig Haul. By J. C. Cowdrick. - 816 Dendwood Dick, Jr.'s, Rival. By Edward 1. Wheeler, R17 Widenwake, the Train-boy Detective, By Col. A: F. Holt, R18 The Wustler Rogue-Cateher, By Wm- R. Eyster, 819 Dick Doom’s Girl Mascot. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 820 Nobby Nat, the Tenderfoot Detective. By Wm. G. Patten, 821 Rrondway Rilly’s Bluff. By J.C: Cowdrick, R22 Dendwood Dick, Jr.’s, Boom. By Ed. L. Wheeler, R28 Poker Jack, the Detective Sport. By On vomMee. S24 Rowery Billy, the Bunro Bouncer By Jo Plerce, #25 Marlo, the Cowboy Coaster, Oy Col. P. Ingraham, R26 Broadway Billy Among Jersey Thugs, Be J.C, owdrick, R27 The Bantam Rport., By 7 ©: Harbaugh. R28 Dendwood Dick, Jr.’ Scoop. By Ed. L. Wheeler 829 The Gentleman Crook In Chicago; or, Dick Doom’s Shadow Hunt, By Col. By Ingt#ham. 880 The Grim Lodgers in Rog Alleys or, Citizen Rube of Number Seven, By Ben 2, vere 881 The Lise beagle Prummer’s Deal, By J. G. Bethune, 822 The Doctor Metective in Texna, By Lieut. A. K. Sima, 88 Broadway Billy's Raid By J.C, Cowdrick, R84 Deadwood Dicks Fr.’* Proxy, By Ed. L. Wheeler, 8k Meck Doom’ Bie Henl. By Col, P. Ingranam, 886 Sharper Stoke’s Double Deal. By Wm. G. Patten. 887 The Big Four of the Bowery. By Jo Pierce, A New Issue Every Tuenday. The Half. Dime Library {6 for ase by all newsdealers, five eents per copy, oF sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, ‘ 98 William Street, New York. eNede} ~ ee eee rn —