Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 57) (1878 08 27)
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anal alalLa WN Copyrighted in 1878, by BEADLE AND ADAMs, —4 pe lyf), (4 x \ S| SS __ aS rp. r-TT\N VolLTiI. — singe Number. No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, Price, 5 Cents. No. 57. dark, narrow canyon into the depths of the moun- tains, where it branches into numberless tributaries. The five persons, who at the introduction of our | story, populated Flood Bar, were named respective- ly—James Belmont, Old Buzzard, Squirrel Sam, i r Vandegrift, and Miaco Rullon. Belmont was a Virginian, of some forty years of e, and a quiet, retiri fellow, whom everybody liked. He was a thorough-going miner, a shot, and when once “‘riled,’’ a rough customer to handle. Old Buzzard was a stumpy, wrinkled old plainsman and a good hand at yarn-spinning. It was a part of his business to keep a scout about the Bar, and sup- He was the discoverer of Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; | THE PARDS OF FLOOD BAR. BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, AUTHOR OF “ DEADWOOD DICK,” ‘‘ DOUBLE DAGGERS,” “BUFFALO BEN,”’ ETC., ETC. ply the camp with meat. ‘ lood Bar; the remaining part of the ‘ population ”’ FLOOD BAR, had straggled in, one by one. Tre spring rainy season had set in in the Black Hills country—that dull, monotonous period which every miner dreads next to an attack from the In- dian marauders, for there is no working with com- | fort in the chill, drenching rains that are peculiar to that wild, rough country of gold. Miners’ faces w clouded upon the clouding of the sky, and if you are in search of long faces, and “ pil- rims ” who are beset with the luest order of “ blues,’’ look down into camp on one of those monotonously dull, wet days, and you will certainly be “ Ku- re ed,’ for you have found more than the acme of your ar A utside, is the y, sodden ay from which the rain falls : with an ease and steadiness which is provoking in itself; the rain-soaked earth; the roaring, rushi mountain streams swelled into great tor- rents; and the grim, rough landscape, so lonely and cheer- on such days as these. Within the rude log-cabins you will find a dozen or more miners, gathered disconsolate- ythout a crackling hickory listening to the ceaseless pouring of the rain, or mayhap one of their number enlivens things by spinning a yarn, At Flood the new Gold- en Egg of the Black Hills, the rainy season was in its second week, and the miners were naturally not in over-jubilant spirits. In the aforesaid time very little work had been ac- complished; indeed, but a few days of paying work had yet been accomplished at the Bar, by the five individuals who composed the population, Flood Bar is in the north- western portion of the Black Hills, where Professor Jenny failed to find the least signs of gold, but it is not the purpose ‘of the author, because of cer- tain reasons, to give the exact location of Se, thus far, 74 est Mine in the country of go This narrative is to be of Food Bar and the Flood Bar-ites. The place in question com- prises a bar, or neck of land, running into a turbid, rushi mountain stream—a bar o sandy land of no great size, yet a0 richly impregnant with gold Squirrel Sam was the eccentric man of the lot. He never spoke | This did not signify that he was a mule, for he had been heard singing, at a distance, several times, which was evidence to the four remaining ‘‘ pards’ that he was not dumb, But, it became a mystery, when, after unmention- | | CHAPTER IL. | | as to be indeed a “ Bonanza.” From down a wild, unex- lored gorge or ravine pour he waters of this stre: known as ge Creek, ani Sweeping majestically past Flood Bar, = roars on down a 4 “oLD! STAND, YOU RUFFIANLY CREW, OR I'LL MAKE BUZZARD FOOD OF you!” able efforts, they were obliged to recollect that they had never been able to draw a word from hirn, What his secret was—why he refused to use his tongue, was a problem that none could solve. He was a stalwart, handsome fellow, of oiie-:1- twenty, judging from his looks, with a bold, gouu- natured face, eyes of brown that never quailed be- neath the strongest glance, and hair light and curl- ing. His form was supple and muscular, and he ever went armed and ready for combat. A skillful miner he was, and, moreover, a dead-shot, for on several occasions, when vagabond reds had attacled the Bar, right folsatte he shown his prowess. Hooper Vandegrift was another eccentric. A very pious sort of an old gent of the very Quakeriest per- suasion he ap , and was the cause of much amusement among the five pards, Miaco was a dwarf who had one morning been found floating down the creek, bound in a skiff of birch. He had been liberated, and as he had drifted into the secret. was offered a home at Flood Bar. But, nothing relating to his past, or where he came | from, could be coaxed out of him. Thus you have the “ pards”’ resented, in brief; in the fu- ure we propose to make their better acquaintance. The ds each panes ~~ a separate marquee, whic been purchased from a band of roving Sioux, who had no doubt stolen them from some of the soldiers stationed in the i But each evening they generally assembled ir Miaco’s tent, for a chat and ¢ smoke. Buzzard was absent to-night —a wild, tempestuous night, with pouring rain and crash- ing thunder, and only four of the “ee sat hugging the fire in the dwarf’s tent. Hooper Vandegrift was ensconced up- on a log, with his — his mouth, watching the fire, grim- The others were uped around carelessly. Squirrel Sam reading hard at a yellow- covered novel which he had somewhere run across. ‘“‘Tt’s queer what has caused Old Buzzard to stay so long,” commented James Belmont, as he finished scouring up his rusty sheath-knife. ‘ His grim old face must have frightened off all the game to-day, or else something has happened to him 9 ““Reckon he take care of himself,’ put in Miaco, yawn- ing. “‘ He's smart old rooster, with an eye on every side for danger, is that Buzzard. Reck- on he has scented more Injun sneak-thieves.” ** Verily, l[hopenot!” object- ed Vandegrift, with a genuine “ah-um”’ of Quaker origin. ‘“*The Lord will not see fit to visit molestation upon his Lambs to-night. Thy intima- tion thou shouldst have with- held, Miaco.” - “Ob! dry up, Hoop!” the little Texan replied, in disgust. “Yer thee’s and thou’s are not endurable this weather. Blast — hope — ee Pluvius cheese it, pretty soon, or we'll hev to build a second Noah’s ark.” “Yes; between the rein and the unwelcome visits of Gray Wolf’s Vagabonds, our stay at
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ee Le oe & 2 Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. Tloo : Bar has been mgréunpleasant than profitable. Wat 's if Sam?” or Squirrel Sam had ceased his reading, and was Hisve ius, intently. (3 Olu Buzzard returning,” said Miaco, rising, “rt. I héar hoof-strokes coming cown the gorge. 71 ,comin’ like a dubbel-j’inted comet, too, fer some <a. ©.” ‘ ¢ one accord the miners rose and stepped with- © 6 the tent. The night was inky black, and the ? Jr fell with an ease that was wonderful—tell in t or ight, large drops that counted where they fell. wo wind was now blowing, and the air was warmer. The dismal roar and sighing of the pines upon the mo iutain side was now-rivaled by the rushing and ro ‘ng of Squirrel Creek, swollen into a river of tremendous volume. As the four men stood outside the tent and list- eucd, swift, ringing strokes of steel-shod feet were heard coming dowu the north gorge, out of which the rising stream poured. *Rec’on ‘tain’t Old Buzzard, after all, tho’! ob- served the dwarf, aftera moment. ‘‘ His hoss don’t strike like thet. ‘Pears to me i kinder suspect who that feller is.” You do?” exclaimed Belmont, turning. ‘* Who, ray?” : “Tain’t a-going to tell ye, fer I ain’t sure about it!” was the reply. ‘“‘ Wait, an’ ye’ll see.” The little-lantern over the entrance to Miaco’s marquee tast out but a faint iliumination over the heads of the Miners, yet it enubled the lynx-eyes of Squirrel Sam to make a discovery which he pointed out to Jim Belmont, and the o:uers—simply a little water at their feet—yet it told :j:em that the flood water of the roaring stream was creeping up and rapidly submerging the bar. We ve in fur it, sure enough!’ assented Belmont, glancing at the black sky. ‘The ground is thor- oughly soaked, and this rain now but adds to the volume of the stream, After this horseman comes up we must get off the bar or be swept away; for the flood will increase till midnight.” Nearer and nearer came the hoof-strokes, and pre- sently a horseman, with a lantern swung about his neck, was seen gern madly down the valley, urg- ing his steed with whip and spur. “Thet’s not Old Buzzard, no more’n I am,” said Miaco, as soon as he caught a glimpse of the horse gud rider; ‘nor ’tain’t none o’—”’ He did not finish the sentence, for all had to leap back to avoid being trampled down by the horse, as it rushed swiftly by, across the bar. “ That man is an outlaw, Cll wager my life!” cried afim Belmont, “and his business down hyar is to find ,waat kind-uy a place we've got.” ‘Verily, I believe thou art in the right groove, James!” agreed Vandegrift, with a devout ‘‘ah-um!” “The Philistines are all around us, and verily, our lives hangeth on a thread!” “Thet feller was Flying Floyd!” & moment of thougut. ‘He is Deadwood Dick's lisutenant, and they call him the Sky-rocket. Don't iknow what he can want down this way, however, since et’s whispered—but never mind just what, now. Our greatest enemy af present is the water. *Pwon’t do to leave the tents here; we'll hev to take *eum along with us back onter ther rocks.” *T'll go and see if the way of retreat from the bar is clear!” said Belmont. ‘The rest of you tackle the tents.” So saying, the Virginian hurried off. The only re- treat from the bar, except by water, was to follow back and scale a rocky bluff; indeed; this was the only reliable outlet from the Squirre Creek gorge which the miners had yet discovered. After pass- ing over the bluff trail for a mile or more, a descent brought you into one of the many short but beauti- ful valleys for which the Black Hills country has al- ready become famous, In this valley a half-dozen colonists had built their homes: of them, more anon. Jim Belmont was gone but a few moments. When he returned, the others had the tents down an bundled, and were ready to leave the bar. “ You can’t git off that way!’ the Virginian said, pointing over his shoulder toward the bluffs, with a xzrim expression revealed upon his face by the lan- toru-ligat. ‘ Allof Gray Wolf’s red Vagabonds are luggin. the bluffs, waiting for us to come off the ‘ar, so Luat they can riddle us with their pea-rifies.” ‘* Shen, what in thunder are we going to do?’’ de- manded. Miaco. ‘t Verily, we hath no choice: but to surrender our- :olves into the power of the Philistines!’ put in the user, ‘Herve comes Buzzard, now!” exclaimed Belmont, «Sa horseman dashed ‘out of the gorge, and drew rein before them. ‘ Hallo! where you been all sum- nar) Buzzard?” The little old man sprung out of the saddle, and © 100k himself in his wet garments, before replying. ‘Great ham—I mean, good heavings!’’ he ejacu- ! sed, witha shiver, “ef thes ain’t one o’ ther durned «so storms, then chaw ther essence out uv a red nig- very as was ther exclamation o’ Jumpin’ John Liogers, w’en his wife baptized him in ther coal-scut- it.» Wet? Shouldn’t wonder a bit. I’ve hed the badness soaked cl’ar outen my durned old karrack- t-r, in thes equinocksyel rain o’ Ploopiter Juvius. But, ‘biznéss, b'ys; bizness before pleasure, as ther muskeeter sed ter ther fat victim who war tryin’ ter sleep, w’en a liuil nation war callin’ fur him ter cum an’ stop remonetization. Ef ye vailly yer auburn tresses, scoot, fer ten mile above hayr aire a water gtoppage, an’ w'en it bu’sts, things’li hum, down in tues direction!” * But we can’t get off-the bar over the bluffs,” pro. tested Belmont. ‘The Vagabonds aire thar, an’ we said Miaco, after couldn i raise the ascent and live.” The old scout whistled his surprise, and, then, turn- ing upon his heel, walked away toward the end of the bar, to see how much of it was submerged. When he came back, his ready wit had formed a plan of extrication from their dilemma. There were two giant linden trees growing close to where they were standing, whose densely leaved tops would not only furnish a safe refuge from the flood, but shelter them from the gaze of their Indian enemies, who held the bluff. In a few words Buzzard explained his plan to the others, and it was accepted. First, the parapher- nalia of the camp, including the tents, bunks, cook- ing utensils and mining implements, was hoisted up among the branches, and then the five pards of Flood Bar ascended, also. The rain continued to pour down without cessation, and the addition of thunder and lightning made the night more wild and cheerless. ‘I’m glad ter see ther fireworks, b'yees,”’ said Old Buzzard, in answer to some remark, “ Et speaks o’ fair weather comin’ afore long.” Louder roared the river below them; it was fillin up the whole width of the gorge from wall to wall, By and by a loud roar was heard in the distance, and Buzzard turned to his companions. “Hang on now, my rosebuds, fer ther dam hes bu’st, = ther gorge, an’ it’s goin’ ter give these trees about all the wettih’ they can stand up under!” They heard it—a roar almost deafening; the mad sea of waters was rushing toward them, CHAPTER IL. DEATH BEFORE—DEATH BEHIND, Tue valley before mentioned, which lies east of Flood Bar, was one of wondrous beauty. It had a smooth prairie bottom of half a mile’s width, from which charming slopes stretched away gently up- ward until met by the gray rock of the mountains. Noble groves or mottes of timber dotted the vale. and several modern residences, built of quarried stone, stood down near these mottes, surrounded by lawns and outbuildings, and everything to make a home comfortable. The home of the Waltonbys was perhaps the pret- tiest, and one, after days of rough, tiresome travel through the Black Hi country, would have been surprised to stumble unexpectedly into this remote but well populated valley, where half a dozen ven- turesome colonists had chosen themselves homes and had worked their very hardest to beautify and improve their possessions. r.Waltonby had once been a rich man, but u- lation and private claims had impoverished him to such an extent, that but a few thousand dollars had been left him. With this he had joined his fortunes pt a colony, and brought his family into the ills. He had built his comely residence, and had taken pains to make its interior, and the extensive grounds around it, as handsome as his limited means would permit. A stranger approaching the place, one of these wild wet days of which we have been writing, was struck by the inviting appearance, and drawing rein at the edge of the grounds, surveyed the residence with some curiosity. He was a man of an age somewhere between twenty-five and thirty years; with a heavily bearded face, dark, gleaming eyes, and hair that fell half- way down his back. His form was stalwart and muscular, and his dress that of a mountaineer “So this is the home of Cyril Waltonby, eh?” the stranger mused, interrogatively. “He has a pretty place, 1 must admit, and I'll wager my life that he dreams not of my coming here, in his peace and security. I wonder if my disguise will bear close serutiny, for I should not want to be recognized un- | til my plans are better matured.” So saying the stranger dismounted, and hitching his horse, strode toward the house. As he rg. fe upon the veranda, a Mb woman — out of the open door, and the two stood face to face, eighteen years of age, and formed in nature’s most perfect cast. Im face she was not what a critic would call beautiful—rather ordinary in feature. with soft brown eyes, and hair like a reflection of sunlight. Her dress was plain but neat fitting, and there was grace in her movement, and something that was charming about her. “Miss Ida Waltonby, I believe?” the stranger said, raising his slouch hat. “Tam Ida Waltonby, yes, sir,” the girl replied, shrinking back, us if by intuition ‘that the man w ei: disposed. ‘Who are you?” ’ * the sobriquet of Red Lark, ~~ dear e for you, ; and ut, first let me see your fa om I have important business with.” er, wh My father is in bed, sir, and it will be impos- sible for you to see him!” replied Ida, unhesitating- ly. “ He has an attack of his heart trouble and not be disturbed.” . Red Lark uttered something suspiciously like an oath under his breath, and paced to and fro across the veranda. “I must see your father,”’ he said, at last, stop- ping before Ida with a savage scowl. ‘‘Go tell him that the cat’s leaped the gate, and the dog’s chased her into the woods, where she is hiding, He will understand, I guess,” youngtiaay. And I have a mess y. Entering the house, Ida hurried up-stairs to her | father’s changer, and gave the white-faced, suffer- ing man upon the bed, the message sent by the stranger, Red Lark, J The words seemed to have an electric effect upon Mr. Waltonby, for, with a gasp he sat up, his eyes “Show him to me. glaring wildly around. “Where is he?’ he gasped. | that of my wife, | not |, delivered | have powder or power. is | mustache. The young lady was perhaps seventeen or | | again By the gods! I will kill the devil-possessed wretch!" “The man is down at the door, papa; had I not best send him away?” demanded Ida, greatly terri- fied at the sudden rupture of affairs. “H: is your eneiny, I’m sure; please let me send him away.” * Y-e-8, y-e-s, he is my bitter enemy, daughter, and though the blow is destined to fall, sooner or later, I must postpone it—inust, for your sake and our mother. Go tell him I will him—that I defy his power to do the worst. Tell him never to show his face here again.” Wee, Ida obeyed her parent’s dictation, and is message to the bearded stranger. Red Lark received it with a’sardonic s: ile, and without a word strode down the yard, ve |fed into the saddle, and spurred on up the valic . hrough the drenching rain. f His coming—what did it signify to the : onbys? ‘“Hold! stand, you ruffianly crew, or I}l make buzzard food of you!” The challenge was delivered in a resolute, ringing voice, by a young man, and the scene was rather a dramatic one, ar Mountains all around, with forest-crowned peaks, and in the center a little table-land or plateau. A score of grim, fierce ruffians stood at bay, .ear the center of this, facing a pair of leveled revolvers, in the hands of one who commanded, asabove—a youth, in years, though in bodily developmenta man. His stature was about the average of that of western men, and every limb and muscle waslike iron. His face was smooth, with the exception of the upper lip, which supported a slight mustache. He was every bit a handsome man, and yet one whom one might justly fear as an enemy. Behind him, as he stood confronting the ruffian band, crouched a young girl, not yet seventeen, who was the possessor of a rare, dusky beauty, anda or of marvelous perfection. Indian blood mixed with American evidently coursed through her veins, but the taint would have scarcely been detected by an observant eye. “Back, you devils!” cried ae eg American, again, his aim wavering not a e—*‘ come not a step nearer, or you shall die, one 2 one, as long as I é is mine, by right of rescue and protection, and I'll keep her, you bet yer little souls!” A grow] went up from the ruffians, and their leader, a large, burly man, of dark, swart face, gleaming, bloodshot eyes, and a monstrous sweeping blac He was a human brute of repulsive aspect as one will often meet, and with such a crowd of backers, few men would have dared to face them as this young American was doing, with no little ap- parent trepidation. “Give up the girl! She b’longs to me an’ I'll have her, or cut yer cursed head off!” shouted the leader, in a rage. ‘‘ You thief, you’ll find when you try ter ick a flower frum our posy-bed thet ye've got inter her wrong hornet’s nest.” “Oh! no, sir ruffian; I ain’t at all afraid of you, or I'd run. I’ve seen lots of blustering bulldogs like you, and never got bit by one of them, yet. Come on, if you’re hankering after any of my traffic. This girl’s goin’ back to Deadwood Dick’s po where she'll get good care. And, by the way, my hearties, you’d best watch sharp, jest Deadwood’ Dick gets after you, for he is not far away, and his name is ringing steel and eying = ong = you.” pa ioe, Tee , the young lieutenant of Deadwood Dic palsed € e maiden in his and, still ——. the ruffians with one pistol, began retreating x 4 y step backward, along a narrow ridge or hog-back, which ran out from the table- land, and on each side of which yawned a frightful chasm, whose bottom must have been fathomless, Judging from the dark depths. ; “The devils mean to try our worth, miss!’ Floyd said, glancing into the ed face of the maiden. He had found her struggling in the grasp of Big John Wolf, upon tumbling secidentally down the mountain side into their yt and had, in his dauntless way, gone at once to her rescue, with the result.we have seen. “They are as ferocious as wild beasts, but will have to work if they get Us as their prey.” “Oh! sir, I fear that we can never escape them!” exclaimed the girl, in’ a voice of marvelous sweet- ness. ‘‘ Those men are a score to your one. How can you hope?” “Talways-hope, miss. Never yet gave up the ship when there was a plank to cling to. Those ruffians will not shoot, either for fear they might also hit you. or wee, wish yd ea me ee the eT, owing as they do that ong to Dead- wood Dick's band!” / 5 “ M The girl gazed searchingly into Flying Floyd’s yes. “You really belong to Deadwood Dick’s band?” she interrogated with dilated eyes.” ‘Oh! Iam now afraid of you.” **Indeed? But without cause, young lady, for no female ever found molestation or can justly speak ill of Deadwood Dick or hismen. I belong among the | as lieutenant, since the Prince’s return to the hills, and though it is rumored that Deadwood Dick ig on the road, I can vouch that it is not to recklessly vob Hoa male hile h ese words were spoken while hurrying rapid along through the deepening twilight, which oven hung the picturesque mountain landscape, The eourse of the remarkable ridge, or hog-back, now gradually curved and ran between two ranges of towering peaks, but the chasms still yawned upon either side. Ahead the view was obstructed, beyond a certain distance, by the ae The grade of the ridge was slightly ascending, but the back wag ee ae
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ar smooth, and rapid progress couldbe made. Insome places, however, the footing grew so narrow that it was almost impossible to.save one’s self from totter- ing over into the abyss. : ing Floyd, however, passed these places, with- out difficult, and safely. He was as sure-footed as a mountain goat. It was a narrow, dizzy path, which none but a man of nerve would have under- taken to traverse; yet, Flying Floyd hesitated not when he thought bf the pretty burden in his strong arms, even while his gaze was fixed upon the dog- ging outlaws. ; Step by step he advanced, not knowing whither the ridge trail would lead him, but bound to take the brunette captive out of peril if it lay in his power. Big John Wolf was one of the worst wretches of ruffian type anywhere along the border, and, as leader of a n crew, had won a wide-sp notoriety for his cruelty, He was said to never for- get nor forgive an enemy, and Floyd was aware that the mountain outlaws meant to follow him until they had a suitable opportunity to capture and punish him. To kill him outright was evidently not their desire or intention. On, along the y ae hurried the intrepid lieutenant, with rapid strides, scarcely noticing the frightful abyss that yawned upon either side, to fall into which meant certain destruction. With Big John’s outlaws, however, it was different. They weakened in such places as this, and where Floyd walked. boldly across, many of them crept upon their hands and knees, his put them behind, out of ere and by quiskasing is stride Deadwood Dick's Heutenant kept them there fora time. But his burden was a solid weight, and before a mile had been passed over, began to tell upon his strength. till he a! bravely on, enco' ance, that if he was not ng, not, either. They were ogging 2 d, but made no extra efforts to catch up wi As he hurried along, and turned this important fact over in his mind, if dawned upon him like a flash that perhaps there was a cause for their not being in a hurry—that, oe a trap was lying in wait for him, at the end of the hog-back into which they calculated he must fall. “It’s something, Pll rantee!” the young man thought, glancing over shoulder, for he had now turned his back toward the outlaws. ‘Danger is the word. Young lady, you have not yet told me your name?” “My name is Nolie, sir—Nolie Waltonby. Iam, as a, may have guessed, partly an Indian. For Looe have been a prisoner in the band of Big John, and never until to-day, have I been beyond the camp, from which you kindly rescued me, There is a& secret about my birth, but I won't speak of that, now.’ “No; conversation now is difficult; but I thank ee for your confidence in me. Iam known as Fly- » ty Dick’s lieutenant nag determinedly on, his eyes gaz- m, ed by the assur- he ne wire rseveringly e outlaws’ trap! And a triumph- ant yell from them told that they were aware of the fact. an T he hog-back had re terminated} Below and beyond its end, for the space of forty feet, yawned a gulf frightful to contemplate. Beyond this space or break in the path was a con- Rapialy Fl ing Disa veitniad hig iene t oyd retrac steps for per- hape tarey yards; then with some inward exclama- tion, he clasped Nolie closely in his arms, and bounded forward at the very top of his speed. The fa to hind gulf was about to attempt the leap- ing of the gulf! CHAPTER ITI. WHAT THE FLOOD BROUGHT. Ww frightful position was that occupied by the five panda of Flood Bar, with the knowledge that an awful wave of water was rushing fierce 7 toward them, from the dam, down through the wild, sinuous gorge! The roar of the storm was drowned by the ter one of the on-coming flood. The jar of 1eavy thunder and the vivid.giares of Heaven's py- ro nics, made the night and the situation all the more wild and awful. In the tree-top the five miners crouched, hugging hard to branches, for they were fearful that the tree would be ananpet in twain by the shock of the water, or mayhap be uprooted, and carried on down the gorge. “Lookee out; she’s comin’ !”’ sung out Old Buzzard from the very topmost branch. “Hear her roar} Great ham-bo—I mean great Jerusalem! et reminds me uv the roar w’at emanated frum a young buffler bull L heer’d on, once, w’en he sat down ontera Canady thistle. Hold ter yer constitoochins, my posies—cling to yer cross like a red-hot y, an’ never let et be sell thet water washed ther Injun hate out 0’ your calendar! Moses thet in ther—I mean holy Moses! Hayr she comes a-yoopin’! And it was even so. 4 With deafening roar, outrivaling Heaven’s own artillery, the water came bulging in a great roar into the wider rayine which the miners had christened Flood Bar—came lea ing on like some angry monster wrought to the piteh of fury by the warring of the elements. The ers from their retreat saw all this re ed by the flash of the lightning— saw that the t flood was nearly as high as they, and then, with muttered prayers, waited. Squirrel Sam was the est man of the lot, for Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. the reason that in all this awful roar and din he never spoke a word; and neither did he seem to quail beneath the horrors around them. Old Buzzard, though a “leetle skeered,”’ as he afterward expressed it, was brave, and his words of cheer encouraged the others. On came the remorseless sea of boiling, foam-cap- ped water; it struck the tree with a jarring violence and bent it half-way over, while great clouds o spray shot toward the leaden-hued sky. One mo- ment the whole tree would be buried beneath a giant wave; the next the water would sink half-way down its trunk. Fortunately the ordeal was quickly re In five moments the great flood had spent its force, andthe waters only swashed and gurgled at the foot of the tree. But to those in the branches it had been a fearful ordeal—the worst pull by the strong arm of death that they had ever experienced. One of their number, old Hooper Vandegrift, had been washed away, and the remaining four were more dead than alive. It was accordingly some time after the falling of the waters, ere either of the sur- vivors spoke. Old Buzzard finally broke the silence. ‘* Waal, feller-citizens, how do we stand? are we still hayr, or aire we sum’a'rs else? Aire we aire we, or aire we not aire we? All on duty please answer ter roll-call. . Ar’ ye thar, Jim Belmont?” ‘* Present, all except a piece of my cheek, which a stick. gouged out, and appropriated!’ grimly re- sponded Belmont, * Squirrel Sam and Miaco?”’ ‘** Both here!” replied the dwarf. “And Hooper Vandegrift, the man of ‘thee’s an’ *thou’s’?” “Is gone,’ said Miaco, gravely. ‘The end of a floating log struck him, and knocked him clean out of time. Poor cuss hedn’t:time ter say his kittenkiss- ems. ‘Spect he never know’d what struck him.” ‘** Then thar’s only four on us, eh?” “That's all. Waal, ther popylation o’ Flood Bar. war a leetle too large, ennyhow, an’ one demise ain’t ter be regretted, w’en thet same demise war no less a chap than an agent o’ Big John, the outlaw!” Hy t! do you mean to say the Quaker?” “Was no Quaker at all, but an agent thet Big John sent down heer ter rob us o’'jour a’riferous. But, I a watch onter his grab-hooks, ter see thet he kept didn't get an ines: “B Tove, this surprising news. How did you Let et suffice ter find it out?” “I do not propose to tell that. say that I found et out, Ihev a way o’ diskiverin’ things wich sum folks don’t know nothin’ about.” Still hearing the water upon the bar below, the miners concluded not to venture down until day- light came, So they remained in their relative positions throughout the whole wild drenching had been so strangely eventful. Morning at last dawned dully and gloomily, with a slight cessation to the rain from a pour to a nasty | driaate, ‘h, the four | As soon as it was light eno tree-top refugees began to look around them, before descending to terra-firma, which the water still cover- ed in patches, and would until the creek fell. “The Injuns hev fot stormed out, or else thar warn’t none!” said Old Buzzard, scanning the bluffs to the east, by aid of his field telescope. “ Aire ye sure that thar war Injuns, Belmont?” ““So sure, thet I was induced to prick one’s throat wi’ ther end of my bowie-knife,” was the grim re- sponse of the Virginian. ‘‘ Guess the feller never knew what struck him.” “Waal, I guess the varmints konkluded we war washed off, an’ so ‘ll wait till a more auspishus time ter visit ther Bar. Ther dirty Vagabonds aire ther dastedest, orneriest set 0’ pilgarlics thes side o’ Jor- dan. Great interlectual bam- I mean great gran- daddies! ef I war as mean as a Vagabond dog I'd hide ant ee my legs an’ hire out fer a museum curiosity.” “Ha! by all thet’s wonderful, I’ve made the big- gest discovery of any o’ ye!” here shouted Miaco, excitedly. ‘ k! look! a cabin! a cabin!” He pointed toward that end of the bar which nosed out into the river, or rather the western end, for not only had the flood added greatly to the size of the bar, but had made it an island by cutting in close to the bluffs and wearing a channel through, thus dividing the river into two courses, which joined to- gether at the southern termination of the bar. The miners gazed quickly in the direction indica- ted, and to their astonishment beheld, perched safe- ly down upon the extreme western end of the bar, a | log cabin, all in perfect shape, and intact, as it had been fetched by the flood. For it must have sailed | down upon the rush of water, else how came it here? The door was shut, and the two windows which were visible to the miners from the tree-top, were securely blinded by strong oaken shutters, Whether this habitation was tenanted or not was a question, and one which was of vital importance to the four miners of Flood Bar. ] to investigate the matter, and accordingly descended to the ground. “* By all ther legal technicallities uv ther Blackstone judisdiction, this aire one o’ the funniest o’ funny things!” said Old Buzzard, as they all stood upon the ground and Who evyer heerd o’ a cabin sailin’ down thru ther mountains an’ landin’ at one’s feet, when in need 0’ one? Great ham-bone thet chalked old Jon— Imean great grandaddies! Kf thes ain’t an € 0’ wonders an’ blunders, may my old carkuss be u 7 ped ertilizing purposes!’ how the habitation ever ing totally wrecked,” averred Jim Belmont, e war jest night, which | } without avail. | them busy. | Search, with pick, azed toward the mysterious visitor. | 2 LY ‘But, come! let’s go fer the old caboose, and see what’s about her.” The dwarf Texan, Miaco, being in the lead, went ahead, and Belmont, Old Buzzard, and Squirrel Sam followed at his heels. A covering of sticky mud had been landed upon the Bar, which with puddles of water, here and | there, made the walking exceedingly disagreeable. “I hope the flood has not washed away all our old,”’ said Belmont, with a look around at the deso- ate aspect. “Things seem rather dubious, just at present.”’ “And we can Stee men to roost in the mud, for a week!” growled Miaco, “Ha! great God, Z’m shot/” They had approached to within a score of yards of the mysterious cabin, when the dwarf reeled and fell, simultaneous with the crack of a rifle. “Great ham—I mean holy lava o’ Mount Pisgy}!” ejaculated Old Buzzard, catching the wounded Miaco by the hair of the head, and starting back in the direction of their former camp. ‘‘ Back action, ye durned galoots, ef ye don’t wanter teeto wreck your constitution against a sn Thar’s hor- nets in thet condemned nest, wi’ sharp a jes’s sure’s thar’s music in ther argumentive een uv a horse-wi’-long-ears!” An instant retreat was made, for the one shot was evidence enough that the mysterious cabin had an occupant, who was averse to receiving visitors at so be our in the day, if at all. o this occupant was, or of what breed or nationality, chey had no means of learning. Some- one, certainly, who bore them no friendly feeling, on else the shot that wounded Miaco never would have been fired. Miaco was not severely hurt—only a a5 ov rfora- tion a the side, from which the b ool towed copiously, but not a serious or dangerous wound. ey soon had the flow of blood stopped, and the dwarf was able to walk around. Camp was —_ pitched, and the four — began to feel themselves more at home, only for the presence of the myste- riously-inclined individual in the cabin, which Old Buzzard had christened Noah’s Ark. “I don’t see that we can do anything more than to keep an eye on that shebang, and let her alone,” said Belmont, that night, as they all sat in the door of Miaco’s tent, and gazed off toward the om structure. “‘ We ain't strong enough to make a and bu’st in the door, an’ ain't got a cannon to bom- bard et with, so what is there left to do?” “ Nothin’ but eee watch,” replied Miaco, “though I would mightily like ter know who’s inside. Reckon theyll hev ter come out, fore long tho’, fer grub, — they've got an extra stock of pervisions aboar et? “Great ham—I mean Jerusalem Jinkens! don’t fret about thet!” said Buzzard. “I onc’t knew a fel- ler, up in Montana, who war cornered in ther eend uv acanyon fer sixty-nine years an’ three hundred an’ sixty-four days and twenty-three hours, perzact- ly, an’ he actooaly subsisted on water all thet peer- yod, ’ca’se he war afeared ter cum out fer fear ther njuns would get him. Also once knew a man who lived ter be two hundred an’ four years aged, an’ after he got ter bethet old, he nevyer eet anything fer ther next century.” As there was no telling in what way things might shape, during their future stay at bod Ther, fhe four pards concluded to night ‘Sy a guard, for, not. knowing rere tog about what force might be concentrated within the black cabin, they thoughtit a necessary precaution to be ready for an attack at a moment's notice. “If thaire’s enny virtue in bone-aches, an’ premo- nishuns, an’ spasms down "hid back-bone, I’m bettin’ high thar’ll sum day or other be high times hayr in Flood Bar, jest on account o’ thet Noaher’s Ark. Durn my old sow’s last litter o’ pigs, but ther great equatorial snow-storm o’—I mean, this great zard wull dissect them w’at’s in ther pesky ranch.” Flood Bar one month later. Not as we have seen it before, but now a lively mining excitement, with white tents pitched upon the Bar, upon the barren aod shores of Squirrel creek, and even upon the bluffs and mountain side. But the only cabin visible was that Black Cabin of the Bar, whose mystery remained unsolved. Since the influx of miners to the Bar, several attempts had been made to break into the old pile of logs, but i. The blinds and door and walls were © cong ag with rifle loopholes, and every attack had een met by fire from the inside, with more or less loss of blood to the miners. T, excited ~ A couple of hundred of these e humans were there, of the male sex, who were toil- ~ ing for gold in Squirrel gulch; every foot of the Bar had been leased by the Four Pards, at an enormous figure, they only retaining enough of the soil to keep Every foot of the Bar was undergoing a pan, and shovel; miners were working close around the Black Cabin, but no one | after the several repulses, made bold to pry into the And they proposed | secrets of the mystery-enshrouded habitation. Miners were prospecting in the bed of the two creek channels, and up the mountain sides, and even into the dark ravine through which Squirrel Creek poured down from the north. : Belmont had started a weigher’s business in his tent; Buzzard derived profit by bringing game into market; Miaco, who really was the best scholar and business man of the pards ’, kept office, and bought and sold ‘claims’, for the firm of Belmont, Squirrel Sam, Buzzard and Co.,”’ Miaco being the “Co.” And things grew livelier, daily; rumors of strikes at Flood Bar broughtin men from ever remarkably strange, ind and a miracle | of the Hills, and women too; two enterprisi di- caanpolie ine tenn without be- | viduals had built a hotel; a ‘st ‘" line was from Deadwood; saloons had their inauguration
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4 hops in under canvas tents; gamblers came to ply their vocation, and last but not least, report wafted into Flood Bar upon one morning’s breeze, a name, well known in every part of the country of gold— @ name the mention of which was a harbinger of excitement and peril— Dxapwoop Dick! CHAPTER IV. DEADWOOD DICK’S BULLETIN. Wuen the name of the great road-agent of the Black Hills became whispered about in Flood Bar, here was an unprecedented excitement. For acon- siderable period the Black Hill-ites had suffered no molestation from Dick’s men, This was while Dick was - in Idaho, and down at Del Norte, as related im Half-Dime Library No. 49. But it seemed that the dashing Prince of the Boad was back again, and people close to their pocket-books, and regarded their. neighbor | “7” more sharply, lest suddenly he should dissolve into @ road-agent. A crowd of miners were siti in Old Buzzard’s tent, one t, when a comrade digger of gold gushed in with a flushed face, and panting breath. He was greet excited, and related his “say ” ee ough we give it plainly for the reader’s efit. “T war coming in from. the Musquekang valley. whar I’ve been.on bizness!”’ spoke miner, Jer Judson, by name, ‘when I hed an adventur’. I war coinin’ thru ther dasted lonely woods, just be- yond ther bluffs, an’ et war zettin’ d lik when I heerd a clatter o’ hoofs, an’ lookin’ ‘ahind ns aha a dozen horsemen comin’ after me, at “Natterly, I war ruther narvus, an’ knowin’ thet "twas no use ter run, I dodged inter a clump of man- zintas, an’ squatted "bout as low as I know’d how. On cum ther horsemen, rippyty scoot, and a whol- lopin’ their hats inter ther air, an’ yellin as ef Bed- Jam war let loose. I war beginnin’ ter breathe a notch easier, when I thort they war goin’ ter poe, but they didn’t—nary a bit! ey jest yanked their hosses out ter ther side o’ ther road, an’ nailin’ up a ig bulletin-board, w’ich four on ’em hed ed between ’em, ter a tree, they pasted an advertise- ment onter it, then mounted an’ galloped away, whence they hed cum. Gentlemen, one o’ them cusses war —ther reckless road-agent devil— Deadwood Dick!” “Great interlectual ham—I mean, jaws o’ ther ater thet swollered old Neptune!” ejaculated Old Buzzard; ‘‘ ye don’t say so—ye don’t aver on yer — honner, thet ye see’d ther great original Dicky—ther pet galoot o’ ther 19th century?” “T jest do, bet yer slippers on that!’ declared Judson. ‘An’ I purpose thet a party us S gO back an’ sce w’at thet notice on the bulletin-board says.” xt second ther perpetual moshun system!” assent- uz. Accordingly a dozen men were picked out, includ- ing the three pards, Belmont, Buzzard and Miaco, = Bag out to inspect Deadwood Dick’s bulletin- eeguirrel Sam Mer J absent from camp, of course d not be includ The weather had now settled into mild, gentle g, and the nights were growing warm and u- ul. A flood of moonlight lit the path for the pets, eausing them to look strangely white and weird, as a | tramped over the rugged bluffs. The scent of wild fragrant flowers, and newly-budding trees, was borne deliciously upon the eve: breeze. * Don’t know as I ever saw this wood Dick!’’ Belmont remarked, as they trudged along, for as the distance was but a matter of a couple of miles, they bad taken no horses. Bet Patan te Fede’ — to see him ve second meant a once gits a é against you,’’ Miaco sugges’ “though he ant alf so désprit a cuss as fo’kes make him. Leetle by leetke a small lie gathers strength and credence, until it finally becomes a mons rosity and an undisputed fact among the peo- e. In due time the party arrived in the woods which Judson had mentioned as being the place where he had seen the road-agents. It was a gloomy ine forest, through which a tolerable stage tr ad been worked ee to the Musquekan, veer, be- ‘ond. And just such a place it was as might suit the -fledged road-agent, for a place of oper- mn, “Tt war in hayr, up a ways furder!” explained Judson, casting his eyes around him in rather a doubtful manner. ope ter gracious ther pesky gino won't be layin’ fer us. ‘Spect they went inter ther Musquekang.” “Deadwood Dick wouldn't tech sich a sorry-look- in’ passel o’ pilgrims as we, anyhow,” declared Old “onless he war purty sure thet we hed Por chips than we know’d what to do with. Oh! *s game an’ astraight caliber chap is Dickey, ef I do say et. Great ham—I mean 5 7 donk hat! I’ve ? known thet ter do things w'at knoeked ther seven wonders uv ther world inter acocked six-shooter. Once see’d him stop a mad bull w’at war chasin’ a a across a perary, jest wi’ ther power o’ his er he’s a mesmerist, is Dickey! But, hayr’s bill-board, now!’ “Yas, this is the place,” assented Judson, as they all paused befoge a bulletin-board, which had been nailed up to a pine tree by the roadside. Upon the board was pasted a bill, which had been executed by a prin pens, and which Jud- gon had seen Deadwood Dick’s road-agents post eas of af there. And the following is what the miners from Flood Bar read, with not only surprise but wonderment: Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. | “Brack Hruxs, May 3d. * To all whom it may concern : “T have come back to the Black Hills, after ar absence of several months. I have not come back to rob and plunder honest and hard working, deserving men, but as Deadwood Dick, the Road-Agent, to wage a warfare against crime and ruffianism, and the advocates thereof. The Black Hills needs a thorough purging and cleansing of the murderous wretches and ruffians who swarm within its haunts and J’m the one to do the job. with the assistance of my men, and all I ask is the good will of the honest part of the population, and their occasional co-opera- tion. That of the Government I am sure of. “The friendship or good will of my future foes, I neither crave nor expect. As they have dealt with others, so shall they be dealt with. By the decree of the law we are yet outlaws, and road-agents, “Before the end of our campaign, we hope to be ree men, once more. That is what we’re wor for. “So, look out_for us, ye evil doers, and stand not in our path, ye Doubters, for we shall recognize all friends as foes who stand up before us in opposition. “ SIGNED: Dgapwoop Dick AND HIS EaGLEs. ““N, B. My menare all among you, many in number, bound to me and each other by solemn oath and therefore invincible, though invisible. * A case of wrong against honest men by any one of my men, reported to me, will receive prompt atten- tion, and punishment to the offender. We war only nst evil-doers, Drapwoop Dick.” s was what the miners of Flood Bar read, and if they were amazed it is little wonder. Deadwood Dick was again on the trail as both Road-Agent and Regulator, and that things were going to livel, — within the scope of the Black 8, they well ew. Whether the good the dashing Road Prince would do would offset the bad, and the enemies he would create, was a question tor time to answer, not for > aye Flood = to eee seeetheeti add na © majority of cases the own, or had had experience with Deadwood Dick, and while many of the miners sided with the reckless Road- Agent, more cursed him, and swore dire vengeance upon his head, should he ever give them an Fite tunity to pay him an ill turn; so that it look for Deadwood Dick in his proposed campaign against the ruffian element—as if he would have as many honest men to fight as of the evil-dis d. Allover the Black Hills were these bulletins posted. at the entrance to every town or m strike, and often the daring dozen rode straight into a town to do their work, distributing their heralds broadcast in the very faces of their enemies. One of the ars oe resorts of Flood Bar, was a large circus-shaped tent kept by two enterprising men from Denver, who had dri here with the human tide. The place was floored and well-light- ed, inside, and bore the name of the Inter-Ocean Saloon, although besides the saloon, it was a concert hall or pavilion and a — den, where all sorts of games were run, night and day. As there was no similar place in Flood Bar, of course the Inter-Ocean received the general share of the patro e, and, with good order, a part of the time, and Deadwood City prices, the proprietors were reaping a rich harvest. The concert every evening was a great attraction, the proprietors, Messrs. Hallowton and Miles, often bringing down “‘stars’’ from Denver to cater to the tastes of the dirty, rough miners. On such occasions many of the females of the Bar came in to listen to the music, quickly departing after the concert was over, for it wasa poor place for respectable women. One evening, a short time after the posted declara- tion of Deadwood Dick, we will look in upon the In- ter-Ocean for a few moments. Inside all was a bustle and excitement. A large crowd is gathered, and while waiting for the “ star” of the evening to appear, the gamblers offer their greatest inducements to attract the wary an dun- wary to their fold for the purpose of fleecing them. A large gang of roughs were, under the effects of fiery beverage, growing noisy and boisterous, and Messrs Hallowton and Miles tried several times to quiet them down. Their efforts, were, however, un- availing. There was half a hundred of the gang, and under the ig ap of one of the a cus- tomers in all the Black Hills—Big H Hagen was this man’s name, and he had, on coming to Flood Bar, at once asserted his rights as ** champ- ion” “boss” and ‘bully ;” and as no one had ever had either the courage or muscle to dispute his asser- tion, it became a settled fact in the mind of the peo- le, that Big Hank with his rough, devil-disposed ers, could lick the town, if he chose, which gave the burly bully double assurance in his power and prowess, and made him naturally more bold. And as, with him, boldness was but the precursor of brutality, he became a pompous, bragging nuisance to the town. The card wpont the concert boards to-night was Miss Lucille Desmond, who p rted to be a New York opera-singer, but, if she did hail from further away than Denver that dirty crowd was mistaken in its guess. The impression was that she was a Dead- wood “high-kicker” or a stage-struck Hoosier gal, whom Messrs Hallowton and Miles hoped to reap a harvest from, Wherefore the surprise of the audience, when the singer stepped before the curtain. Ata glance she was anything but a can-can dancer or a Hoosier girl, this fair, intellectual girth with her creamy cpr ex- ion, her dazzling bright blue ¢ es, and long auburn hair, and a form that rivaled the shape of Venus in symmetrical grace; ana a wild hoarse cheer went up from the motley assemblage beneath the t pa- vilion, which nearly frightened her out of her com- posure. But, she soon regained her confidence, and stepping forward with a gentle courtesy, burst out into such a grand strain of exquisite song, that the attention of every person beneath the canvas was enchained as by a spell. Nothing like it ever had been heard in the Black — Hills, Her voice was as pure as the tone of a silver-bell, and as sweet as the voice of a bird. Flute-like in their intensity, her wild, peculiar notes reached far beyond the tent, even, into the black, stormy night, without. And her audience listened, spell-bound, a they had, for the most part, never heard anything eit. She sung once, and was about to retire, but a per- fect pandemonium of yells called her back, when a shower of wild mountain ee cane fell at her feet—pouches of gold and silver were hurled in upon the stage without number, and the night rung loud with cheers and encores. For these rude and often- times ruffianly western miners, have a great heart wep them. I never yet met a miser in the far est. Loudest in the encores was the bull rough, Big Hank Hagen. The man’s eyes had fasten- ed pies the songstress all through her sing- ing, as if he longed to devour her like some raven- ous wild beast. “ Hurra! hoop! hoop—hurra!”’ he bellowed, swing- ing his hat above his head as he stood mounted upon a deal-table. “More song, me Jady—more song, or we'll bu'st ther ranch!” A monstrative audience: again and again, until f aint a turned to leave the stage. But with tiie agility of a anther, Big Hank leaped from his perch the deal- ble across onto the s' with a yell that would have du'.e credit to a Com- anche warrior. . “Hold up, my sweet gal—don’t be so fast ter go ontil ye’ve sold me a kiss frum yer purty lips!” the bully cried, throwing his brawny arms about her waist, with a triumphant leer. - Help! help!’ screamed Lucille, in horror, while she struggled frantically to free herself. But no one ap have the assurance, if they had the disposition, to help her, for Big Hank and his men were present in force to-night, and inter- ference meant a free fight. So no one stirred to help the poor girl—all stood and gazed upon the scene without offering assistance. “Help! help!” she again cried, as Hagen’s whisky: scented breath flamed her cheek. “Are there men wong fe who will help me?” “Ay! ay!” cried a stern, ringing voice, ‘“ Dea wood Dick ts with you!” CHAPTER V. THE DEVIL'S HOLE,—DEADWOOD DICK BEGINS BIS CAM PAIGN. WE left Flying Flood about leaping the yawning abyss—a distance of many feet to the continuation of the hog-back beyond. But what man could ever hope to leap over that frightful space, with such a burden in his arms as the dusky girl whom the brave lieutenant ed. Hire knew that positive death lurked behind him, and that there was Lege of it in front. Yet he hesitated not, for he had often been face to face with the monster, and had grown, as it were, some- what reckless of the con: ences, On—on he bounded, at the top of his speed. The If lay just ahead, a great gap n nature's furrowed ace; across it he mus? lea safety or—die! Death must surely follow a fall into that black abyss. Nearer and nearer he bounded toward the brink, and when upon its very edge he gathered his strength and made the fearful leap, while a yell of combined indignation, incredulity and horror went up from the pursuing outlaws. They had not for a moment ima- gined that the daring road-agent would ever contem- late such a thing as trying to leap the abyss; they had proposed to corner and capture him. Up into the air and gracefully forward like a rocket shot the lieutenant, with his prize clasped in his arms; with dilated eyes and bated breath the out- laws watched him, in wonder at the power in his limbs which impelled him so swiftly through mid-air. But, alas! only too soon he began to sink, far short of the goal he had aimed to reach, and down! down! down! he sunk into the black misty depths, out of the sight or stot J of man. With cries of conster- nation Big John Wolf rushed forward to the brink of the precipice, and gazed over, down into the blackness. But nothing could they see. A dense fog er their seeing twenty feet below the 1 “Reckon et’s good-by Flyin’ Floyd, and ther ga) too!” growled Big John, angrily. | ‘ We war darned fools we didn’t shoot the cuss, an’ git back ther gal, As et ar’, thar’ll be red devils to pay w’en Red Lark comes back an’ finds ther gal phone He'll rip an’ sw’ar like a suck-tornader, an’ ef some 0’ you fellers don’t get broken skulls, I’m mistaken! Then the outlaws turned and filed back along the hog-back, to the plateau from whence their pursuit of Flying Floyd had called them. Where were the lieutenant and his dusky charge? In the few seconds he was flying through the air toward the opposite side, he had ample time to per- ceive that he miscalculated his powers—that he was going to fall far short of the brink, and be lunged into the awful abyss, whose depth might be ‘athomless. It was a horrif thought borne to both Floyd and his charge at the same time; but e, beside the terrified girl, ~
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then they began to sink so rapidly that their breath was taken away. Down! down! down, through an atmosphere damp and thick—down, second after second without ces- sation, but seemingly faster and faster—into the very bowels of the earth, as it were, and yet still on and downward. When they struck, Nolie was unconScious, and a dead weight in Fl Floyd’s arms, who, by a won- derful exertion of will, had kept his senses. Instead of beeing dashed to jelly upon a hard, rocky bottom as the road-agent had expected, they were plunge into a deep, round lakelet or well of water, which | fully broke the force of their fall, and thereby saved their lives. As soon as _ they rose to the surface after their watery bath, Floyd struck out blindly through the dense darkness, in search of footing. Nolie was still a dead weight upon him, and he was nearly exhaust- ed when he finally succeeded in ncagea, be low, sandy shore, and getting out of the dark, bubbling water. It was a great relief, and he could but thank God that the result of his leap for life had been no worse. What the future had in store for them in this dark pit he had no idea; but it was his intention to find out as soon as possible, If the chances of escaping were as ill-favored as the place was ill-smelling, his hope of life was indeed slender. And the sluggish- ness of the waters suggested the thought to him that this strange mountain lake had no outlet. Laying Nolie upon the sand, he proceeded to wring the water from her garments, and then from his own; after which he took a tin case from his pocket and produced some matches which the water had not spoiled. By feeling around along the shore he soon was suc- cessful in gathering an armful of fagots, which he ited, and fanned into a bright blaze, that lit up e surrounding scene with wonderful distinctness, and he was able to discover something about their situation. . The lake was considerably larger than he had anticipated, probably covering something like twenty acres of bottom, e abyss, according to this must be the narrowest at its commencement above, grow- ing a great deal wider as it descended. As well as Floyd could determine, the lake had an outlet some- where under the shelving cliffs upon the Conceie shore, and a great bubbling in the center of the lake showed the existence of a large spring beneath the surface. A narrow shore ran nearly all around the water basin, but otherwise this singular body of water was walled in by giant mountain sides that no human power could scale, After making these observations, Floyd gathered more pine fagote, of which there was a plenty that had tumbled down into the abyss, and replenished the fire, after which he set to work at restoring Nolie to consciousness. By the application of water, and liquor from his canteen, he soon had her in full possession of her senses and speech, and they stood at the fire to dry their ents, while a st expression was wronget ae m ane two Heeag s of which were handsome in their different t ‘We're in the Devil’s Hole!” exclaimed Nolie, with a frightened look in her eyes. ‘‘How did we ever get here, alive?” “B sang into the lake, we saved ourselves,” Floyd repli “Do you or Big John and his men know aught of the place?”’ “No more than that it is said to be bottomless.” ‘““Which was but a conjecture, as you see that we have found a bottom. But the next thing is to find a way out of the place.” bad es. But, may be there is no way out. What en? ‘“Well, then we shall probably be compelled to make our home here for the rest of our natural lives.” ‘*But, what would we live on? We should starve for want of food.” “Not if we could manage to subsist upon fish, which abound in great plenty in this remarkable mountain lake. e have enough wood here to last for years, so that I think we could manage to get along somehow. But, before preparing for a life- long stay, we must discover if there is no way to es- cape. To play Robinson Crusoe in the bowels of the —T is not any part of my calculation if we can get out. “* Deadwood Dick is with you!” and the audience gazed breathlessly on as they beheld the road-agent spring upon the stage, a revolver in either grasp— the same dering, eet Deadwood Dick, whose fame and deeds had been heralded throughout the land—handsome, dare-devil Prince of the , who never hesitated to face death in defense of a wo- man. Straight upon the stage he sprung with the eyes of nearly all Food Bar turned upon as he caught Big Hank Hagen by the throat. Help! help!’ the bully bellowed, his grasp upon Lucille, and turni upon the road- agent; ‘‘whar aire ye, pards? Roll up—pitch in, an’ we'll grind thes eee boas inter ashes. + But though their leader thus appealed, not one of the ruffian’s crowd moved; they stood as if riveted in their tracks, with too little assurance and faith in their own prowess to attack the man who perhaps of all men was the most feared by these denizens of the Black Hills. Not a move they made, nor did the “honest” element of Flood Bar, for they were se- cretly rejoiced that Big Hank had at last found his master, for the two men were now fighting desperate- ly with knives—fighting for life and death. A breathless silence crept within the great pavi- ion; not a@ breath scarcely or a sound save that of | the two duelists and the clashing of their knives; | every one stood watching with intense interest, for a | great deal depended upon the issue. | Should Big Hank go under, Flood Bar's greatest | nuisance would be disposed of; at the same time if | Deadwood Dick were to fall, the Hills would be rid- | ded of a scourge greater than death itself. These | were the two opinions, and more were there who sided with the bully than with the road-agent. | _ The contest was waged with unabated fierceness. | Big Hank had received several ugly cuts, which made | him furiously mad. Dick was bleeding freely from | his adversary’s attempt at carving, yet he was ap- | parently not the least angered. That same reckless | coolness and composure were his, in battle or out; he feared neither man nor devil: he fought with ease and composure; even there was a faint smile rest- | ing upon his countenance and emanating from his | dark magnetic eyes. | _ Among the spectators who had just arrived, were Old Buzzard and Squirrel Sam, watching the contest | with great enthusiasm, for both were enemies of the bullying Hagen, who had in different ways taken | pains to cross them. The old scout and hunter, however, was the most affected by the sight, for a grin continuously lit up | his grotesque countenance, and occasionally he would give vent to his feelings by a yell of delight in such moments, for instance, as when Dick would ** tantalize”*’ » vein of his adversary. Squirrel Sam, no matter what were his feelings, never spoke, but occasionally a smile of exultation would linger about his mustached mouth. ““Great arithmetical ham-bo—I mean great Je- hosephat!” roared Buzzard, dancing delightedly abagt, as the road-agent parried the brute blows and put in some extra fine thrusts. ‘Old Moses who in ther rushes did vegetate! at him, Dickey, ye dasted skunk! Putin yer work, ye little disease o’ destruc- tion! Make ther pilgrim bite ther end off’m hes own constitoochin. Actooally see’d a feller up in Monta- na, onc’t, gents, w’at ked swaller hisself, turn inside out, an’ then outside in erg’in.’’ Clash! clash! went the knives of the duelists. The blood from their wounds stood in little pools upon the stage, or ran its way across and disappeared ina chance crack. Blood soaked their garments and spotted their faces, and still they battled on, each de- termined to kill the other. Of the two, Big Hank was the weaker, for it was perceptible to all that his strength, courage, and resolution were giving out; but Deadwood Dick did not seem to be weakened by his terrible loss of blood; he was, as it were, made of steel—no give outin him. How long would both hold out? How long could it last? “Hoop! yip! hooray!’ shouted Old Buzzard, prancing around within the limits of a table-top, on which he was perched; “ game is thet same Dickey, gentlemen—game cl’ar ter ther eend o’ his fingers an’ toes; yes siv-ee/ He's a t cavortin’ lamb frum ther old buckin’ flock, / tell ye—a ginnywine skewrupshus galoot, w'at kin teetotally diskount any hyena ye evyer see’d. Three cheers fer Dick Harris, gentlemen, off ye don’t object!” And these miners of Flood Bar evidently did not object, for, immediately after the old man’s pro- posal, the pavilion rung with a great triple chorus of cheers. “ Thet’s ther style o’ ticket ter vote, gentlemen!” continued the irrepressible scout—‘ ther very same ticket, you bet yer brass jewelry. Great deceptive ham-bo—I mean Jehosephat, yes! My name is Buz- zard, feller-citizens, an’ Mr, Chairman—Benjamin Baltimore Brewster Buzzard from Bumble-bee county, Gopher State, an’ reddy am I ter sw’ar by ther star-bangled spanner on Deadwood Dick.” In the meantime Deadwood Dick was bringing matters to a close. . The burly bully, Big Hank, was fast growing weaker, and it was only the matter of a few mo- ments, ere he must succumb. Dick could, as it were, have slain him easily enough, but this was not his intention, He wanted to merely cow the wretch, and make him docile. A few more blows, then Big Hank staggered back, threw w his hands and sunk upon. the floor. He was done for. His wounds, none of which were aie! serious, had overcome ferocity, and e was aware of his defeat. “Enough!” he gasped, and then fainted outright, amid uproarious cheers for Deadwood Dick from the crowd. Which the young read-agent received without visible manifestation, as he restored his knife to its sheath, and turning, assisted the now almost un- eonscious Miss Desmond to her feet, and con- ducted her behind the scenes. The crowd yelled for him, but he came not; they continued to yell, which had the effect of bringing out Mr. Miles, one of the proprietors of the Inter-Ocean, who respectfully announced that Deadwood Dick had already taken his departure. CHAPTER VI. ELIJAH SWAIN, HISTORIAN, ETC. Yes, Deadwood Dick was gone, and these people of Flood Bar had to content themselves with the knowledge. But when the men got together, on the following day, and discussed and rediscussed mat- ters, it was made a universal decision that if the heed road-agent bravo ever showed his face in Bar again, he should not be suffered to escape. And with this object in view, a party of the ‘good and honest” men of the Bar formed themselves into a band of vigilantes, swearing death to Deadwood Dick and his men. On the following day a crowd of loafers were lounging about the tent of Old Buzzard, listening to the old eccentric’s yarns concerning his exploits in 5 the past, and smoking up more r tobacco tham would stock an ordinary tobacco loft, While they were thus lounging, and watching the blue-shirted miners of the Bar at their work in the broiling spring sun, they were interrupted by 4 comical-looking individual who had approached, and was endeavoring to attract their attention, by gesti- culations with a blue cotton umbrella. He was of medium stature, with a face hid behing a mass of bricky-red hair and beard, his nose and leaming eyes being all that was visible of flesh about Bis countenance. He was clothed in mone breeches and vest, and a long faded swallow-t coat, while his feet were incased in heavy brogans, and a battered plug hat ornamented his red unkempt locks. His make-up was generally conducive te laughter, while the redness of the end of his organ of scent was more than assurance of good health; it aiggend ‘** bummer.” “Waal, waal! Jehosephat an’ ther ham-bone 0 old Joner! What d’ye want?” demanded Buzzard, « grim suggestion of fun lurking amidst the stain of terbaccy ’ juice in the corners of his mouth. “ W’at for d’ye stand thar a-wiggling o’ thet umbreller at us, an’ never saying anything. Be ye a g’ost,a hog- goblin, or an automater? Or be ye tongue-tied, or zot dumb? For ther Lord’s sake do say sumthin’ ter yreak ther mernotonous state o’ ther sittywation. Sing, orate, grunt, or ask us ter come an’ see ef eb looks damp an’ liable ter rain water ter drink. “An’ ef et don’t rain water, they keep an excel lent substitute in ther shape o’ prime old mountain dew, a couple o’ doors above here.” “Yas, Idon’t mind ef Ido treat, boys,’’ was the drawling response in a tone that was purely Yankee. ‘But, first, let me interdooce ter yeou afew items o’ my business heer, fer ye must see I’m a business inclined man. My name, sirs, ar’ Elijer Swain, 0° Swainville, Swain county, Maine. Ihave graduated in five colleges of the State, an’ hev branched out into life as a historian and biographer. I have writ- ten several histories of the United States, an’ of all ther prominent men o’ ther days, none of which her et been put upon the market because I ordered them er be withheld. I will contract to write up any 0° yer biographies, gentlemen, at five cents a line, an" not write less than ten thousand lines; an’ if your life hes been uneventful, I'll add a few terrible ad- ventures and hairbreadth escapes for a slight ad- vance on the price of the biogre phy, an’ ef ye want ter be killed off at ther end, I shall be glad to ac- commodate ye, hev appropriate funeral ceremonies, and a thirty-eight foot marble shaft erected at yer he’d.. Anything in my line ter-day, gentlemen?” “Guess not,” replied Buzzard, with a wink at the crowd. ‘“Reckon my history wouldn’t sell ve well. Great deplorable ham-bone, no! I’m too we known, I tell ye! Whar kin ye perambulate, frum ther north pole ter ther south—frum ther east pole ter ther west, whar ye will not run across ther name an’ fame of Old Avalanche, ther great Injun Anni- hilator—ther great boreal disease o’ annihilation and extinckshun—ther terrific an’ original eppydemic 0” these lattytudes an’ longytoads! for Av he am I, feller cittyzens, an’ no mistake—ther notorious, no-eared ilence of ther Nor’-west. No! no! guess e kan’t ‘rite my hist’ry ter-day, fer et’s faithfully ribed on ther mem’ry o° every feller w’at’s seen =) read 'o’ me, *twixt heer an’ ther line o’ ther equa- r,”’ ‘“Wal, et ar’ foo bad. i sw’ar!’ commented Elijah, dolefully, “‘ but one disappointment hedn’t orter dis- uae one strong-minded man like me, nohow. me make yer iographical records, gentlemen, r-day ?’ But these men of Flood Bar shook their heads. They had no desire to become famous, and have their lives carried by history before the eyes of fu- ture generations. “Well, there’s no use 0’ business w’at won't pay, an’ oin’ around wi’ one narfore I combined another with mine. er government, gents, in virtue o’ sum obligations wich we hed ther, appointed me U. 8. Coroner. I received the ap- | soeage So as an honor fer ther ae my biographies one the rising generation. arfore, gentlemen, do ye know uv any new cases 0’ suisancide or murder, or any defunct bodies I can sit on, and yer derive my commission from the govern- men “Guess _ye’re bound ter be disappointed in thet line, too, Elijer,’’ replied the Annihilator, facetiously. “*Hain't seen nary a corpuss layin’ around loose fer a month o’ Sundays. ‘Spect ef ye keep in ther reer eend of Deadwood Dick, tho’, that ye’d be liable ter find suthin’ ter set on, ef it weren't no more'n a dead coyote.” : “Oh! I don’t include the animal kind,” said Elijah, stifiy. ‘I deal only with defunct corpses 0’ co)- lateral humans.’’ And then he turned and walked out upon the bar, where a hundred or more men were busily e with pan and shovel. A laugh of derision followed him, for so green and awkward appeared he, that the risibilities of a saint might have been aroused at sight of him, “T tell you what!” said Jim Belmont, to Old Buzzard—now, by his own confession, the veritable Old Avalanche—as the eccentric individual tramped away, ‘thet feller is either cr an idiot, or iz some sharper in e. Iam inclined to the latter theory, for that is all bosh about his being a biogra- her and so forth. I'll bet he can’t pes his A, B, te 1)? “Oh! t marrow o’ ther bone w’at old Joner swallered, thet’s nothin’, Ji —absolutely ne more’n a pizmire in an ocean o’ merlasses. Once know’d a feller w’at got rich takin’ ther wg pve o” Soo Injines—fact, by gracious. An’ soon old Stick- in-the-Mud l’arnt the art, an’ lastly, they tuk ther artist’s picter as he war performin’ jimnasticks up
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in ther atmosfere, wi’ a tight eord around his “Well, if there ain’t sumthin about that feller, concealed from us, I'll eat a fat Greaser,” replied Belmont, and the Virginian meant it, too, for he had a keen = for observation and reading character, that rarely everled him wrong. But, as if innocent of all these suspicions against him, Elijah Swain continued faithfully on around Flood Bar, making his proposals, and, strange to aay really taking a few contracts. or some were there among the miners who be- lieved they were going to be eternally made famous by this modern solicitor and historian, whose per- Suasive argument led them to believe and invest. That night was a hot one for early spring, with a clear and hazy sky, and very little air stirring. Af- ter the cessation of all labor, the miners might have been seen strewn about the Bar and along the tented creek shore, engaged in cleaning their weapons, amoking their pipes, or washing outa clean shirt, for, as yet, the almond-eyed Chinaman had not made his advent at the Bar, and consequently every miner who had no family was his own laundryman. Avalanche, Belmont, Miaco and Squirrel Sam were ing in front of the latter’s tent, watching with indifferent curiosity the tide of humanity about them, when Belmont spoke up, excitedly: “Listen! listen! What woman on the Bar has poner HA Semi Even Miss Lucille Desmond cannot ua, ” “It is perhaps she,’ suggested Miaco, as all hands listened eagerly, “‘ fer she aire the best singer I know of, at the Bar, now.”’ ‘No, it’s not her,” replied Belmont, ‘‘ Hear? it comes from the direction of the Black Cabin!” His words were true. Floating toward them from the direction of the mysterious Black Cabin, came the melodious strains, varied and wild in tone, the voice being as pure and unwavering as a lark’s note or the trill of a flute. The words of the song could not be heard, but the song itself was exquisite. Weirdly beautiful rung the peculiar throbbing vibrations of the well-cultured voice, and then, when nearly the whole of Flood Bar, as it were, was spell-bound by the enchantin, melody, it died out in a strange, wild, mournf shriek, blood-curdling and demoniac. The Four Pards exchanged glances. “Thar’s something wrong,” declared Belmont, scratching his head, thoughtfully, “‘ an’ I’m wonder- in’ what. ’Pears to me like asef they've got a crazy person penned up in thet cabin.” **Or sum wild beast,’ suggested Miaco. “Great ham-bone w’at performed old Joner’s last president’s message, no!’’ replied Old Avalanche, in disgust. ‘‘Ye don’t suppose a wild annymal kin lo yer” we What is our opinion then, old man?’ demanded Belmont. “Ihave been watching you, and see that you have formed one.” “ Eh? w’at aire thes great destructive eppydemic’s opinion, d’ye ask? Waal, I hev jest rented et out, an’ kin't tell ye. Thes heer old cavortin’ disease aire goin’ ter know ther secrets o’ thet cabin, or slip an eccentric, sure pop. Old religious an’ antediluvian ham-bone w’at w’ar ther last sickness uv old Joner! Ef thar’s humans in thet Noaher’s Ark, this notori- ous snow-flake aire goin’ ter find et out, an’ make *em pull down their blinds.” No more of the singing shrieks were heard in the cabin, however, that night, and Flood Bar’s people’s minds again were quieted into repose. But something occurred on the following night, which threw the little town into a turmoil of excite- ment, for on awakening in the morning, it was found that the Bar and its inhabitants had been robbed / Yes, robbed of all the gold or currency upon their persons—not only one but all—every man in the mines! In the dead of nighi the robbery had been silently performed, while slumber held the people in its deep trance. Cleaned out of thousands of dollars’ worth of pre- cious gold and greenbacks was the little town on uirrel Creek, and as there were no pretensions of religion there, of course the profanity among a cer- tain class was gros Deadwood Dick, agreed these miners, was the rob- ber—Deadwood Dick who had declared himself the friend of the honest man, and the enemy of outlawry and ruffianism. Who else could the aring act be attributed to? Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. “Don’t b’lieve nothin’ o’ ther kind!” was the sole | response of old Avalanche, when he was questioned concerning his views of the case; “ ’twarn't Dickey at all, no more’n t’war President Hayes, or sum other high-toned offis-holder. No sir-ee, I'l! bet ther sharpest tooth in my old jaws thet et warn’t Dick. Great unsophisticated ham-bone w’at equilibriated “. old Joner! thet same cavortin’ pestifferous Dick ~grvouldn’t no more steal yer honest earnin’s, than he'd *st his inderwidual b’iler!” * But these Flood Bar-ites were not all of the veteran Annihiicvor’s opinion, and fierce and vindictive was the spirit against Deadwood Dick. Large rewards were offered for the dashing out- \ law, and the Vigilantes were on the alert. The great Lucille was booked for another concert, that night, and it was expected the dare-devil road- agent would be present. Therefore, the Vigilantes were on hand, in disguise, ready to nab the dashin prince upon his appearance. But they were destine to be disappvinted. Neither Deadwood Dick nor any one resembling him was seen in the great mass of humanity, and Lucille sung on to-night without mo- lestation, for Big Hank Hagen, though present, was | too badly used up to show his prowess again, when he found thatt he songstress had at least one friend int’ fing camp. Buf with all the ruffianly des- pe my ‘ature, the Flood Bar bully now equally loved and hated the fair singer— loved her as well as he was capable of loving any one ‘ed anything, and hating her because of her terror of im. And knowing that she feared him, he yearned for greater triumph over her—yearned to possess her and crush her proud spirit as the Texan horse-tamer Se far ai the young wild horse into submission to is will. Hagen sat in an obscure corner of the saloon, dur- ing the concert, and watched with evil in his blood- shot eyes, a peculiar vindictive smile lurking about his coarse mouth. When she appeared for the last time, he arose and glided from the tent, a crafty expression upon his sinister countenance. He still had the use of his left arm, and springing upon a horse that was standing at the door of the saloon, he shook the reins, and alloped along the creek shore to the ford to the ar, Fist below the rising eastward bluffs. Here he dismounted, and concealed his animal be- hind a thicket of firs, while he himself crouched in hiding, and waited. Below him and across the waters of the creek gleamed the lights from ascore of miners’ tents that were located upon the Bar, while further on, upon the opposite shore, were more of these canvas habi- tations, saloons and stores, similar to those which had been erected upon the eastern shore, along which ran the trail leading into the ead canyon, where several paying quartz lodes had been discovered. Big Hank had not long to wait; he expected the eat Lucille to soon come along, and pass over the ong foot-bridge to the Bar, where she procured boarding and lodging with a miner’s wife, and oon he heard rapid footsteps approaching. But they were clearly not those of a lady—too heavy, quick and elastic for such. A man was com- ing to cross the ford—who? CHAPTER VIL. THE ENTRANCED ANNIHILATOR. “Curse the girl, why don’t she come?” the bully muttered, impatiently, ‘‘ and who is this cuss coming along to skeer my bird away? Blast him, I’m anotion to salivate him through ther pate an’ chuck him in the creek.” But on the new-comer’s closer approach, Hagen concluded not to adopt his proposal, for tae man was the silent member of the Pards of Flood-Bar—Squir- rel Sam. Handsome and manly looked the young miner, as he strode along with head erect, and eyes glancing around, and Hagen secretly envied him his ood looks. But, jo bogie Sam was not molested, as e stepped upon the long shaky suspension foot- bridge, and passed over on the Bar. “The next will be the gal!’? Hagen muttered, as he continued to crouch in his concealment, and listen to the sounds upon the still night. ‘ Ef I kin only git my clutches upon her, one’t, never fear but she’s mine, safe enuff. These Black Hills hes got plenty o’ safe nooks ter hide a gal in, an’ I’ll be ther owner uv as purty a piece o’—”’ He stopped and listened. Footsteps were again approaching, and this time they were light and rapid, which indicated to the scheming villain that the fair songstress of the Inter-Ocean establishment was at hand. And crouching like a panther in his lair Hagen waited—waited until the footfalls sounded just in front of him—ihen he leaped to his feet and out from his cover, with a yell of great triumph. But that yell turned to a growling curse, as he beheld, instead of the expected Lucille, no less a person | than Deadwood Dick standing facing him. Yes, Deadwood Dick, who had punished the bully of the Bar, a few nights before, and for whom the miners of Flood Bar now offered large sums. If Hagen was astonished, Dick was probably not less so; yet he was instantly upon his guard, with a revolver in his hand, ready for use. ‘Hello! what do you mean? Have you turned fo “al robber?” the Prince asked, his tone tinged with sarcasm. ‘‘I expected to find your carcass lying in some hole, hereabouts, depending upon the generosity of some philanthropic soul to bury it.” “Oh! did. ye?” sneered Ht. en, recovering his composure, somewhat, although he could not but feel rw, when Deadwood Dick had the drop on him. “ Waal, I ain’t dead yet, ef ye did accidentall carve me sum, Didn’t take me for a weak calf, hope? Ef ye did, thar’s whar ye make a mistake, fer, Mr. Deadwood Dick, or w'atever-yer-name-is, you aire my prisoner.” “Your prisoner? By what authority?’ Dick de- manded, coolly. “None o° yer danged bizness—’cept thet I want ye tex surrender, or I'll bu’st yer jug fer ye, in style, an’ give ye ter the Vigilantes.” *“Oh! don’t—please don’t!" mocked the road- agent. ‘I know ye wouldn’t harm a poor innocent little thing like me!” Big Hank did not reply except with a curse, as he leaped forward to seize his enemy; but there was a howl of rage, and a sharp flash and a report, under which Hagen went to the ground. “There, you brute, I guess maybe you'll keep bo et, now, for a spell!” Dick muttered, spurning the Then he turned away, and crossed the foot-bridge onto the bar, moving with exceeding caution, for be caught napping by the now indignant Flood Bar- ites, meant battle, and a hundred chances to one, of | body with his foot. | death. He had not been gone ten moments when the songstress came along in company with Messrs. Miles, of the Inter-Ocean establishment. They saw the dead bully lying by the roadside, and Miles gave a breath of relief. 4 “One good riddance, thank God!” he ejaculated devoutly. ‘‘Some one’s made a funeral for one o the worst ruffians in the territory. Flood Bar, I'm sure, will feel relieved.” Old Avalanche, Belmont, Miaco and Sam were sit- ting in the dwarf’s tent, later that same evening, smoking and spinning yarns, as was their vont, when there were no fights or excitement outside, to | attract their attention. “Ketch Deadwood Dick!” the Great Annihilator , was saying, in contempt at some previous remark; ‘no, sir-ee! nary a ketch of a feller who signs the eend 0’ his luv letters wi’ thet sane notorious hame.” “ Well, if Deadwood Dick much longer evades the law and justice, it'll be far beyond my expectations,” said Belmont. ‘‘ Why, every other man in the Bar, nearly, has now joined the V: tes, and sworn death to the dare-devil road-agent.” “T don’t care a durn ‘ef every uther galoot, an’ every other galoot’s next door neighbor hes j’ined the Vigilantes; thet hain’t signicafistic thet they’re hg ter sift their fingers through Dickey’s beauti- ful hair. Great Centennial ham-bone thet perplexed old Joner! et aire my solemn wish thet ef they don’t let ther boy alone, w’en he’s offered ’em fa’r induce- ments, thet he’ll pitch inter ‘em, an’ lick ’em like thunderation. Grasshoppers an’ religyus buzzards! Ef Dick do evyer git his back up, ag’in, I tell ye things’ll smoke, an’ ye kin bet yer constitoochin on't, Why, sar, ef ye warlet heer uv sum o’ ther wonder- ful exploits Dick’s did, yer hair’d fly up on end so uick thet et’d jerk yer scalp off—fact, by gracious! nce know’d uv a similar sarcumstance, up in Mon- tana. After ye heer et ye ken’t doubt my word in sayin’ thet ‘twar wonderful. Ther case war sumthin like this: A feller hed lost his first wife an’ married asecond. But he still luved ther fust, an’ used ter go set on ther top o’ her stun every wh an’ whittle up pieces o’ rails as offerings sacrificial ter her speerit. One day while sittin’ thar, he felt a cold clammy hand lain onter his cheek, an’ his hair stuck upon end so quick thet ther electricity uv_ ther mo- ment a a off his scalp, jerked his neck out o° j‘int, an’ dislocated his back-bone. They buried ther poor galoot next day, an’ his ashes aire now soaked inter lye, deep down in Terrance Firma, or ye kin call me a liar!” ‘ ‘** Avalanche,” broke in Miaco, ‘I do solemnly be- lieve, meaning no ’fense, 0’ course, thet ye aire ther wust liar in existence. I once knew a feller who told a lie a minnit hil day fer a years, an’ then con- tinued ter work dubble time ther next forty; but, darn me ef I don’t b’lieve ye kin beat thet.” *“*Hain’t goin’ ter try, Liliput. Great forsaken ham-bone, no! I ain’t one side o’ a buffler bull ter ye, w’ich aire useless. Ha!—"’ The old man here started, and stopped abruptly in his speech—became rigid and motionless, his face as pray as granite rock. Not a muscle moved in his »dy, and his breath came very slowly. In silent wonder his three companions looked on. In no manner could they account for the strange change that had so suddenly come over the old man, But a voice, seeming to come from among them, soon spoke, and the words produced full as much mystery as the Annihilator’s antics. ‘Lay down, Avalanche!” the voice commanded, sternly, and to the astonishment and amused mysti- fication of the three spectators, the veteran scout got carefully upon his hands and knees, and rolled over on his back, with a disapproving snort. “None of your growling, Alva!’’ cautioned the voice of the unseen speaker, from another portion of the tent. “I won't have it. Shut your -trap, and your eyes, and tell me what you taste?” “Tarantler juice, by ther great ham-bone!” wag the aoa response. ** And, what do you smell, Alva?” “ Fricasseed mud-turtle and clam salad!” was the reply. R Xht two very rare dishes, old man, which is con- clusive that you have seen better days. Now, ther, raise cursed to a sitting posture, and cast your eyes about you, and tell me what you see,” said the same cool, stern voice, which now seemed to come down the smoke-hole of the tent. Accordingly the Great Annihilator rose to a sitting posture, and gazed on every side, with apparent sharp serutiny, although the three miners noticed that his eyes had a vacant, plazed look, “Well! well! what do you see?” again demanded the mysterious voice, comiig uireetly from in under Belmont’s chair, and causing the Virginian to spring to his feet in consternation and eurpeiees “TI see th-the Black Cabin!’ was the response of Avalanche, slowly. Belmont, Miaco and Squirrel Sam now pricked up their ears, for the dialogue was growing more inter. esting to them. ‘ * Can you see inside of the cabin, old man?” “Great ham-bone, yes.” “Ah! that is good; There is a mystery PS must solve since you Loa aon : fon ce me hom de ou see inside the a mi A man—an ornery-lookin’ galoot, too,” “Indeed! describe him. “‘ Antediluvian ham-bone, yes. Guess I recky thet figger-head, now. Seen him down ter sou” Big cuss, wi’ dark bazzoo, black eyes and black mus- tache. Dressed in ther toggery 0’ a herder frum Texas!" ‘ “4 I suppose?’ ther bullrushes, yes. More’n fifty-lev- h, wi’ ther nter *em. “* Moses en hoels in ther side o’ ther wall, heart snoots o’ rifles an’ revolvers stickin’ Asides, thar’s a bull arsenal 0’ tools in his belt.’ “Ts this all you see?’ * All, pard, copting ther furnitur’.”’ va, don’t lie to me lest I knock you ** Be careful, A
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=. ~ Bae TT eth OD pe SOS ee ee ee oe. 7) oa Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. ~ down with my er. Look sharp, and see if you can’t discover another room.” Avalanche was now seen to bend forward, and — keenly around, a scowl upon his furrowed fore- ““Yes!”’ he replied, presently, ‘‘there’s a door w’at opens inter ernuther room.” “Ah! that’s more like it. Unlock that door and jook inside. Take a careful survey. There, now; what do you see?” : ‘Great repinin’ ham-bone w’at got wanes ag*in’ ther larnyx uv old Joner! et’s a Injun critter!’ ex- claimed Avalanche, with a sniff of bay, bm which, for some strange reason, caused a broad smile to illu- mine the face of Squirrel Sam—“‘a reg*lar old ca- vortin’, buckin’ she-male Squaw, an’, hole darnin’- needle uy old Cleopatra, she’s got the maddest kind ©’ *jims!’’ “Is she old and ugly?” “Moses who did through ther rushes rush, yes— uglier an’ ornier lookin’ then my Florence Nightin- gale, or even old Samantha Snodgrass who lives up at Yankton. Mitey, but she’s humbly, gentlemen, aire thet Samantha, an’ she’s been known ter fright- en away ther birds an’ bufflers fer ten year on a stretch, jest wi’ her old unbecoming mug.” “Stop, old man; you're getting clear off track. Has this Indian woman a mad look?” **You bet yer a’riferous she hes! Looks madder than a wassup w’at’s hed his stinger tuk.” “Ts she a prisoner?” **Shedn’t wonder.” “Well, now look around you, and ve you may see somet more that is interesting. Do you know who is questioning you?” “Dol? Ham-bone w’at war cremated by old Jo- ner, yes. I see ye even ef I ain’t lukin at ye. know yer voice like I do tarantler juice. You aire Deadwood Dick!" Belmont and Miaco uttered an exclamation at this disclosure, and Squirrel Sam simply squinted one eye, and nodded for the others to be still. ou hit the nail plum on the head then, Alva!”’ replied the voice of ‘the invisible inquirer, this time coming from the earth at the Annihilator’s feet. “I am Deadwood Dick, whom the Flood Bar Vigilantes long to clasp in their fond embrace. But they haven't ot me yet, Alva, and when they do I’lilet you know. But, look! it strikes me that there is another apart- ment to the Black Cabin, which you have not ex- plored, is there not? , “Darn my old mule’s capacity fer oats, but ye’re right. Yonder is another door, but it aire heavily barred, an’ I’m gittin’ ter old an’ weak ter bu’st You lack confidence, doors.’ Look at me, and will reassure you.” “Pshaw! The eyes of the old man roved along the canvas siding of the tent, and finally stopped, and the three watching miners saw a pair of magnetic black eyes and part of a face peering in through a slit in the canvas. But the face disappeared, a moment later, and the voice continued: . : ‘““You feel stronger, now?” “Great ham bone, yes. Iken lick enny man w’at sez ther Annihilation ain’t the greatest achievement “Ha! that is the kind of news we are in want of!” | returned the voice, now tinged with excitement, “This girl—has she red hair?’ “Great hifalutin’ ham-bone, yes—redder than ary rum-cullerd nose ked be. Ther gal is crying, now, wi’ her head buried atwixt her hands.” **Ah! and have you ever seen her before, Alva, and know you her name?” **Ay! down in Del Norte I last saw her, for she is Leone Harris, ther wife o’ Deadwood Dick!” There was a smothered imprecation from without the tent—then Avalanche suddenly started in his mesmeric trance, his hands clutching. “Fire! fire! the Black Cabin is afire!’ he cried, breaking the spell and sprin to his feet. “Fire?” cried Deadwood Dick, through the aper- ow in the canvas; then he was heard dashing ay. “Fire!” yelled the crowd of miners, rushing by. And all was excitement in a moment. CHAPTER VILL. THE BURNING CABIN.—ELIJAH SWAIN AGAIN.—THE SEN- SATION.—DEADWOOD DICK’S HEAD.—ADMISSION 30c. Yes; burning was the mysterious Black Cabin, or at least so said these excited denizens as they rushed pell-mell across the bar. Belmont, Avalanche, and Squirrel Sam leaped out of their tent, and glared around them. The sky was dened by a mighty illumination from the cabin, which was all ablaze. The timbers of which it had been built were old, punky, and in- | knows herself, an’ she ruther opine she do. Git out flammable, and a thousand sparks ascended heaven- ward at every puff of the evening breeze, while the flames roared and crackled furiously. “Et aire good-by ter ther old crib as sure’s there's contrariness in a she-mule’s hind hoof!” ejaculated Old Avalanche, who had come out of his trance, and while thoroughly himself again, had forgotten near- Ta concerning the mesmeric power Dick had thrown over him. “Great Norweejan ham-bone thet did old Joner strangulate—ef thar'’s any one in an Ark, they’re bound ter go to Canaan a-whoop- n “Tf the cabin has the occupants you named in our tantrums, I’m reckonin, ead wood Dick will ose a wife—Leone, ye called her,” said Miaco, as he too, came from the tent. “What! what d’ye say, Stub, about Leone?” ex- claimed the Annihilator, excitedly. ‘‘ Whar is she? who’s seen her?” **None has seen her, old man,” replied Belmont; “but, according to the revelation you made in your trance, a few moments ago, she is a prisoner in yon- der burtiing cabin. Whois this Leone?—Deadwood Dick’s wife?” . “Great forsaken ham-bone, yes—she war his wife, an’ ther sweetest lump o' suger outside 0’ a merlasses cask, But she got stole away while we war down at Del Norte, an’ hitherto we’ve bin unable ter finda trace o’ her. Yas, I remember now—I see’d Dead- wood Dick peekin’ in at me, an’ ketchin’ my eye, he quick throwed me into a mesmeric trance, w’i easy fer him, he hevin’ done it afore.” The four men joined in with the crowd which was a over on the bar fromthe shores, and pushed oward the burning cabin. They soon gained a place as close as the terrible heat would permit, and then stood watching the conflagration. There was no aid which could be given, had the Flood Bar-ites been inclined to give aid, which they were not, Y “D’ye kno’ ef any one’s got out uv ther old crib, yet?’ Avalanche asked of a bystander, for the old man was shuddering each moment, when he remem- bered that possibly Leone, Deadwood Dick’s wife, was being consumed in the roaring furnace. **Yas—two gals and an old Injun woman escaped, ther gals goin’ first, and ther squaw a-chasin’ ‘em, wi’ screeches like an ugly painter.” “Which way did they go?”’ ““Down ther canyon gulch, an’ hid, so thet they ken’t be found.” “Do you know how the cabin came afire?”’ put in Belmont. “Waal, I dunno, but the story’s about thet a ga- loot hed two girls shut up in thar, wi’ a crazy squaw ter guard ’em, an’, thet, gittin’ tight on Flood Bar whisky, he concluded ter cremate ‘em in ther latest approved style, wharfore he sot the cabin on fire.” “Then he escaped, too, eh?’ “*O”’ course ;—don’t suppose he’d go inter the she- bang after thet, ter cremate hisself, do you?” “‘ Didn’t know but he might,’’ the Annihilator re- plied, placidly. ‘*‘Knew a feller once who got a stove hot fer ter set his mother-in-law upon, an’ for- got hisse; > sot down kerslap onter it. romance thus begun. Settin’ on ther stove naterly fried ther fat outen him, an’ ther oilly sub- stance run all over ther floor, so thet his wife hed ter mop itup. An she throwed ther moppin’s in a hole at ther back door, an’ an oil locater kim along, see’d ther grease w’ich hed riz on top o’ ther water, de- clared crude petroleum ter exist thar, an’ offered thet fried chap a thousan’ an’ royalty fer ther claim. Did, by gracious?’ “At it again, Dld man,” here interposed Miaco. “Tn heaven’s name, whenever will ye cease ter lie?” “Like yerself, Stubby—only when ther old angel Gabriel screws down my throttle, an’ shets off my superflewus steam. Hooray! Great degenerated ham-bone w’at give old Joner connipshun fits! See ther old Ark w’at Noaher built blaze up, an’ shute her sparks upward like ginnywine Norweejan snow- flakes toward ther hevings!”’ war “‘He’s a goner!” said Belmont, gaz ng peereernlly ‘Gu be his odd expressions our ears will hear, arfter this, “No, the poor old feller. Bet he nevyer expected ter git layed out so soon!” replied Miaco. ‘An’ a right sensible old galoot war he, too.” ‘Hello! w’at hev yeou heer? Glory be unto—ther chap who made mea subject ter sit on!’ and follow- ing the words came the person of Elijah Swain, U.S. Coroner, and so forth. ‘ Bizness is revivin’, gents— times aire gettin’ better; ther mortu aire becom- in’ more reconciled an’ puttin’ et’s work on in better shape. Just sot onter two men, back heer, an’ ren- dered a verdict, -w’ich war ten dollars in my pocket; one feller: got kicked wi’ a flying log—ther other tried ter stop a cavortin’ windy shutter. Step aside, gentlemen, an’ let me set onter this unfortunate man, ‘*Ham-bone w’at explored ther mammoth cave uv old Joner! no Wal, a | e don't!’ yelled Avalanche, sitting | SOE STN RENES SS ar ES it is this class who ever seem to bear a charmed, in- vulnerable life. That night s rumor was epered about that Dead- wood Dick had been killed. A brawny bummer heralded the news broadcast, and it was pretty enerally beli>ved. But when a week had passed y, and nothi:' = of the noted Prince of the Road had been heard, it was arded as a fact. And the Flood Bar-ites breathed free. During the week, * Avalanche had searched far and wide, in the vicini- ty of Flood ssar, both for Deadwood Dick and for oor abducied Leone, who had escaped from the ° lack Cabin, and sought safety in flight. But it had been a fruitless search, and he finally settled downto hunting and ree, ar with the conviction that Deadwood Dick had indeed passed in his checks.. As to Leone, he could form no conjecture of her where- abouts. During the week another “grand” hotel, built‘of slabs and boards went up on the eastern shore of Squirrel Creek, which was now considered the first street of the town. It was called the White House, and because of being comfortably furnished, and setting forth a better array of grub, received the ates share of the regular and transient patronage. n short, it was a “‘ first-class’ boarding house, such as you find in all mining towns. In one of the rooms upon the second floor, and looking down onto the picturesquely tented Bar, sat aman at the close of a mild spring day, when the miners were trudging in from their work, and night’s early twilight was stealing sofily over the landscape. The sun had so far gone down in the west thar ed a faint radiance flushed the mountain top, \. hi rose stately and grand on the opposite side or the Bar, and rolled away in gorgeous pine-fringed piles as far as eye could reach, Perfume of exquisitely sweet-scented May flow- ers wafted down and greeted the nostrils of the man we have mentioned, as he sat by an open caseinen and bhi his oe olerated, npn a ay ony gee pull - silently at a jheavy pipe, dispelling the fragrance o: = flower’s perfume by the scent of bad-smelling to- Acco. He was one whose age might have been anyw} «re between twenty-five and thirty-five, dark of co1..>Jex- ion and swarthy, with a black ugly-expressione.. eye, a sensual mouth shaded by a heavy jetty musi: che, and hair like the raven’s wing. His dress was}: wh and coarse, with no pretensions to dandyism, and | upon his head, he wore a herder’s slouch lat. “Curses upon me!” he growled, as his eyes i. ved over the scene, below, and at last rested upon the former site of the Black Cabin. ‘Why wasI such a cursed fool as to get drunk and fire the old ; na. “You are a villain!” Harrington said. “Correct, and you are a duplicate. If you get the r . girl again, hunt ‘me up, and I'll make yowan offer 6 him reckless, and | or her!’ the scheming Spaniard said, as with a \.- tronizing smile he bowed himself from the room. Oh! yes, I am liable to do just what you propose in a horn!’ 1 > the Del Norte herder muitered, as he
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& turned his attention down upon the Bar.. ‘‘ The girl was a very tigress, and I never dared to attempt the aceomplishment of my aims, for fear she’d dig my eyes out. But, by heaven, I am_ not we | with her yet. T'll humble and’ degrade her, or Tl break her accursed neck, before I go back to the So 1’-west.” Flood Bar the next day was struck with a sensa- tion. Before day-dawn a canvas pavilion had been stuck up on the old site of the Black Cabin, and pasted upon giant banners were huge, life-size portraits of Deadwood Dick, and a red aud white poster contain- ing the following: “STARTLING CURIOSITY! “WONDER OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY! “THE GENUINE HEAD OF DEADWOOD DICK, Preserved in liquor. Peoilion! On exhibition, now, within this Pavilion! } “The head of the greatest Road-Agent that ever | dived! Recently captured and killed near Flood Bar, “COME ONE! COME ALL! ‘ADMISSION ONLY THIRTY CENTS!” And when they awoke in the morning, these peo- ple of Flood Bar, they saw the great, glaring st- ers, heard the noisy harangue of the crier outside of the entrance, and, very naturally, all grew excited. For the head of Deadwood Dick was not to be seen every day, either deau or alive! CHAPTER IX. QUT OF THE PIT.—AVALANCHE’S IDENTIFICATION. We must now return to Flying Floyd, Deadwood Dick’s lieutenant, and his dusky charge, Nolie, whom we left beside the strange lake in the bowels of the mountains. After Nolie’s restoration to consciousness, they sat or stood around the fire which Floyd had built, un- til their clothing had become thoroughly dry; then, they retired for rest by lying down close b the em: bers, and when they awoke it was still dark, with only a faint reflection from the sky coming down in- to the abyss, but even this made it a trifle better than on the day before. ““We now have all the daylight we can have down here!’ Floyd said, looking to his watch, “It is already long past sunrise, up in the outer world. So if there is no escape from this living tomb, we shall not be troubled with too much light!’ “Oh! is it not a gloomy prospect?” sighed Nolie, burying her head in her hands. ‘“*IbelieveI’d rather have remained with the outlaws!” “Pshaw! It won’t do to get erouprenca yet. There may be a dozen ways out of this poe which we have not yet discovered. Wait, and I wil corral some of the fish that seem to abound in this lake, and we will see if they are palatable.” He accordingly proceeded to little shallows or bays to find them literally infested with a species of the finny tribe not unlike the salmon, A couple were soon in hand and dressed, and while there were few bones, there was a reat abundance of fine delicious meat, which when Floyd had succeeded in roasting, he served up on bits of flat rock, which had to an- swer the purpose of plates. The meal, though consisting of but one dish, was hearty, and amply appeased the appetites of our two inter-earth Robinson Crusoes, After the meal had been dispatched, Flying Floyd lit v resinous pine cone for a torch, and acco ipanied by Nolie, set out around the lake in search of some mov le of escape. “There must be some place of escape for this waters, more of which is constantly being added to the lake,” said Floyd, as they marched along. “The volime of yonder spring is considerable, and this pit would soon fill up, were there not some outlet or the water.” “True, there should be some opening,’’ replied Nolie, “‘ but it may be too small to admit of our es- caping through it. They moved song, Pearce, narrowly the walls of rock upon their left, as the shore curved along. “If there is any break, I think it is across the lake yonder, where the low ledges overhang the shore!’ Nolie ms pointing over the dark water. “ Let’s go around there and see.” They did go around, carefully scanning the route as they went. The ledges in question bulged out from the main wall, shelf-like, and so low down that a person was obliged to stoop down, in order to get under them and along the narrow, sandy shore. * Here, if anywhere, you will find the outlet we are seeking!’’ Nolie said, pointing ahead of them. ‘ You can go under the ledges, and explore, while I re- main here.” Accordingly, leaving her behind, the lieutenant crept in under the great stretch of natural shelving, an. along, by the aid of his little torch, making a careful survey as he went. For some distance he found no of any outlet, and was growing dis- couraged and impatient, when he came to where the water had worn its way out of the Devil’s Hole. | It was a large round tunnelin the solid rock, dec a trifle downward from the surface of the lake, an through which the superfluous water of the basin found exit. As he stood at the mouth of this aper- ture, rare parece’ that a person could enter it standing erect, but whether such a passage could be continued any great length of time or not, was to remain an unsolved question, until the two peg prisoners should choose to make t Z Floyd went back to Nolie, and related the success Beadle’s Half-Dime Libra | of your life, which must be an ine eet one. r ry. of his explorations, and the probability of their being | able to make an escape from the pit of darkness. It was gladsome news to the poor girl, and she shed tears of joy as they hurried back to camp. “Oh! then, when shall we start to escape?’’ she asked, gazing trustfully up into the road-agent’s eyes. “I would so like to get out into the living world, onee more.” * As soon as we are ready. we will attempt the passage!’ ring up the fire. ‘First, however, we need to prepare a supply of this palatable fish food, for we know not how long it be ere we can egain get. food. Even when we are once out of this pit, into the mountains, dan- ger lurks everywhere in the mountains, for the new red-skin chief, Half Moon, and his dirty Vagabonds, are roaming about, preying and offering great in- dignities to all small parties they chance upon. Be- sides, ere we leave this place, I would know the war” 4 e not afraid to confide in me, for I am your friend, and any advice or assistance you may need from me, will be heartily granted.” “ Yes, you are very kind, but I know not if I ought to make you my confidant,” Nolie replied, gazing thoughtfully into the fire. ing no harm will come therefrom. It is but a short Pag yet much of importance is connected with it, or me, “My mother was, and if still living, is, an Indian woman, or rather a half -breed, between American and Sioux, fully cultured, and of fair education. When a young woman, she was the princess of her my dear young lady, ; Floyd responded, stir- tribe, and the recipient of many valuablefland and money gifts from both the settlers and the Indian agents, because of the peaceful influence she exerted among the tribes. When in her youth and beauty, a handsome, dashing cavalier came from the East, and induced her to leave her tribe and wed him, which she did. Allof her property and valuable trinkets were sold, and the cash turned over to her husband, which amounted altogether to a great sum of ready money. Well, Markeesa and her pale-faced husband dwelt in Minnesota for one year, during which time one child was born, myself; then the husband ran away with Markeesa’s money, and she neversaw him rain. ‘Time rolled around, until five years age, when my mother learned where my father was ng in the East. She wrote to him, but received no‘dnswer. We then confided our trouble to Jackson Sterling, an In- dian agent, better known as Red Lark, and he prom- ised to act for us. He wrote tom father, but what the contents of his letter was, I shall never be able to tell you, for he did not tell us. he got a letter, in return, and immediately there- after, we were taken prisoners. I was taken to Big John’s outlaw stronghold, at that time over on the Yellowstone. Since that time I have been kept with them, and never have seen any one I knew or could appeal to for relief. My poor mother was taken off to another dismal mountain prison, where, I have since learned, she went stark mad. That is, sir, the secret of my life.” “And a strange bit of life’s reality, too, I should “T will, however, trust- | say,” Flying Floyd remarked, thoug ced as she | finished. ‘This Indian-agent traitor—wha say was his name?”’ ‘Red Lark—or Jackson Sterling.” “I think I have heard Deadwood Dick’s men meu- tion him, as being a second-class desperado. was B kas father’s name, miss?” “Cyril Waltonby. My name is Nolette Waltonby —a name given me by my poor crazed mother,” “Waltonby! Waltonby !’ Flying Floyd muttered, reflectively. “‘ Where have I heard that name? Some- where in these Hills, and not long ago at that. 1 won’t be positive, but Iam impressed with the idea that there is a settler in the Musquekang valley, by the name of Waltonby.” * Ah! then can it be that my father has come back to the West?” the girl cried, a strange, dark flush mantling her brow. “Would to, God T could find ““And, why? You could do nothing with him, to prove yourself his child.” “Yes, could. Ihave my mother’s cer- tificate from the chaplain at Fort Laramie. And even if I cannot get back Markeesa’s money, I can ac- did you com eae ad remaining object of my life.” ‘ a , ** Revenge! Cyril Waltonby shall feel the hand of vengeance strike heavily upon him for the great wrong he has done.” “Yes, you have that satisfaction left, if you can effect no compromise. But, we will first see what we can do. Muybe I can be of service to you in ar- ranging matters. We will now eat and sleep until another day, and then attempt to leave this Devil’s say of MO day in rest and Accordingly they nt the da; and conver- sation, and, when night fell, recccupied their hard couches by the embers. Early the next morning they were astir, and equip- ping themselves with torches, and roasted fish, they set out on their venture for Lacie $i On at the outlet or water-tunnel, Flying Floyd took the lead, and they cautiously entered the passage, advancing step by step, and watching with sharp scrutiny the sides above and around them. The water splashed beneath their pgs and caused strange echoes to reverberate around them. For what seemed almost an interminable space of time they kept on, all the while gradually but sensibly descending. But, at last, after several hours, they emerged into a deep, rugged canyon, and Flying Floyd gave an ejaculation of surprise and joy. **Cheer up, Miss Node, for luck is ours, I know just which way to turn, now, to take us out of the mountains. we had horses to ride, we could reach Deadwood. Dick’s stronghold in a oe of hours. By foot, in about twice that length of e,”” Great was the sensation in Flood Bar! Far and wide was heralded the news that for the_small sum | of thirty cents, the head of Deadwood Dick could be seen—thirty cents only to view one of the great- est curiosities of the Nineteenth Century! Jack Barronet’s Telephone and Tally-Ho Stage line to Deadwood was one medium to circulate the news, and brought in double-loads of excited visitors to see the head of the notorious road-agent. And the general verdict rendered, was that the head had once stood upon the shoulders of Dead- wood Dick. y The proprietors of this novel enterprise, were two sharpers who had received their initiation into the’ | way of making money during the early days of Cali- | fornia’s harvest, and they took great ba e in pre- | senting their prize for eg inspect | lator replie | hard times, I'd But after a month | on, although they were reticent as to how they came into posses~ sion of it. When Old Avalanche heard the news, a grim ex- pression came over his features. ** Don’t b’lieve et’s Deadwood Dick no more’n you or I am!” he said, to Jim Heo the Virginian. “Great ham-bone w’at abused ther constitoochim uv old Joner! How d’ye suppose any feller human *dever git his bread-mixers around ther head sup- porter o’ Dickey? Lord, ef I war as sure o’ etarnal salvation as I am thet Dick’s at this v moment not fur off, a hugely enjoying ther joke, I'd go an’ insure my life, swaller a dorg-button, an’ make work fer thet Elijer Swain.” “But, you'll find you are mistaken, when you go and view the head,” said Miaco, who had already visited the show. “It looks just like Deadwood Dick’s fotygraff, w’at they’ve got stuck up onter ther canvas.” “Well, we can better tell, when we look with our own eyes,” Belmont replied. “Come on, Avalanche, anéwe'll take a squint at the elephant.’ **Great surrepticious ham-bone, yes,’’ the Annihi- cheerily, although there was a linger- ing of doubt in his mind and voice—*‘ we'll hev ter go. see ther sarcuss—‘ go ter see ther an, * as ther | pious folks allus say, when, ef ther truth war known, all ther care about is seein’ ther sarcus. But, talk about sarcusses—ye jest orter’ve seen ther Annihi- lation, when et war all tergether. Royal American. ham-bone! b’iled thunder an’ concentrated lightnin’ warn’t skeercely nowhar. Ef et warn’t fer ther eva histr’y writ uv ther great ex- ploits o’ we three—would, by gracious!” ‘By this time the two men were at the ‘“‘ Museum,” | and paying their fee, they entered the crowded pavi- lion. As they did so, their hearing was greeted on every side with the exclamations from many a lip. “Yes, et’s a fair shake! Et’s Deadwood Dick’s head, sure enough.” Avalanche and Belmont pressed forward. The head was inclosed in a large glass globe, filled with brandy, and placed upon a pedestal where all | could view it. It had been cut off close to the neck’s } ‘plied, dancin connection with the shoulders, and had a very life- like appearance, The face with its clear handsome features, high forehead, and long raven hair were all too nearly like those of the dashing ewer me, for a doubt to be given that this was not the head. **T cave!’’ Old Avalanche said, t away with tears. stre down his face. ‘‘Et’s my boy, Dickey, an’ no mistake.” CHAPTER X. HARD-CHEEK, THE TRUMP CARD. Anp Avalanche, as well as the people, accepted of it as a verdict that Deadwood Dick had played his last card, and that it was his head whom the two California ee were exhibiting to hundreds of spectators, daily. “I’m sorry fer you, old man,” said Jim Belmont, as he led old Alva back to camp. “No doubt ye thought a heep o’ ther road-agent cuss, an’ all that, but Ts’ et aire a blessing ter ther Black Hills thet he's ed out.”” “Great utin’ ham-bone that old Joner did hi- falute! then y ain’t no pard o’ ther great boreal eppydemic, ef them aire yer moralistic views o’ ther case. No, sir-ee! Dickey war jest the very quintes- sence o’ human natur’, electrified by a dose 0’ cavortin’ lightnin’. Game war he as ary you rooster thet evyer matched spurs, an’ ef ye couldn’ lick a feller-mortal yerself, because yer j’ints an’ hiegee war gettin’ old and rusty, Dickey war the | w’at could do thet same perlite little job fer ye.” “Yes, we'll admit that he was good-h and ergot in some ways, but he was , impu- ent and merciless in others.” “No he warn’t, no sich a thing!’ the old a wold Lag) ‘—oys Cordeliar ckey war jest as squar’ a pard side o’ ther river Jordan Ail bet my old he-goat ‘in’ all ther govynorment bonds ye kin skeer up.’ e two men gauntered back toward camp. On their way they came face to face with Carlos Cam- re Jim Belmont had of course never seen the Span- iard to Enow him, but Avalanche had, and recog- nized , immediately. “Hello!” he exclaimed, pointing his sharp little eyes straight at the ex-lieutenant. ‘Great ham- bone w’at ‘arthquaked ther system uv old Joner, et’s that dasted garter snake, Careless Cucumber,” And the old man popped stock-still, blockading the path. Cambre likewise stopped, seeming equal- surprised at the meeting. “Hello! you here, old rackabones?” he saluted, as veg thes
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* * ease, Deadwood Dick’s Eagles, 9 with an attempt at pleasantry, although he ill could conceal his malignant hatred for the scout. ‘* How did you happen upin this locality? I thought you were dead.”’ “ Didye? Great sanctified ham-bone! thet’s nuth- in’. Gude many’s tho’t jest them same ijees, wi’- out enny definite result. Meller once prayed fer me an’ sot out ter git tools ter dig my grave wi’, but I warn’t dead, Another, once up in Montany, stole fifteen dollars uv an old Injun Queen jest fer ter git my obituary put inter ther condolence column uv ther Helena Stars and Stripes. But I warn’t no more dead, then aire ther leetle insects which trail ther war-path over yer skulp. A feller just ther other day sot down onter my bread container, wi’ ther intention o’ rendering a verdict, but jest erbout thet time, ther jury had a different ijeer o’ ther Oh! no, areless, ther great devastatin’ eppydemic aire alive, an’ as ready fer a skewrup as evyer et war.” ‘Well, I can’t say as it is any agg oh to me to know it,’? Cambre replied, grimly. ‘You know I and you never did have an over-stock of love for each other, old scurvy.”’ “‘No—leastwise, we never sucked each other’s fin- gers, wi’ ther delusion thet they war sugar-plumes, my honey-lipped galutorious skunk!” the Annihilator pos fs with an ejection of tobacco-juice which, had not Cambre jumped to one side, would undoubtedly have dyed his dark countenance the color of tan-bark. ‘“No, geelorious Cucumber, et war nevyer our lot to luv each other beyond ther friendly salute o’ a pair o’ knuckles, an’ ef ye want any 0’ ther aforesaid, I'm bettin’ I kin give ye a full measure.” **Pshaw! don’t get belligerent, old scarecrow. I'd scorn to lay a hand upon a man of your years, when you are entering your second childhood. Don’t talk of figh at your age. I see you have just come from the show, yonder. That isn’t Deadwood Dick’s head! “Eh? it isn’t? How d’ye know?” “Tt makes no difference how. Why, Deadwood Dick is in this very town, I'll wager every cent I pos- sess.”’ “ An’ wouldn't stand ther least chance o’ losing at that, would ye? Doubt ef ye’ve got aU. 8. penny in yer pockets, wile ye’re talkin’. How about Edith tun?” “Oh! she’s alive, and here in Deadwood, watching for Deadwood Dick.” ‘* Bully fer her! She'll keep right on wi’ her funny bizness ontil she gits her head cut off like Dick’s. Shedn’t wonder ef ther great Annihilation might be able ter take a hand. er gal lost my respect fer her, by her cavortin’ up at Eureka.” “She'll have Deadwood Dick’s life-blood, ere the year dies, and I'll help her quaff it!” the Spaniard returned, with a sav: fierceness that surprised even Avalanche, for he had never yet mistrusted that so much of fiendish evil lurked in Cambre’s na- ture. “Ye will ye?_ Great ham-bone w’at lyzed ther constitoochinal system of old Joner! I'd like ter see o would I! Bet my interest in ther moon thet ye’ det ther wust dose ye evyer cum across. Know’d a professional blood-sucker, oncet. who sucked ther devil blood outen Injun braves, an’ squaws, an’ made ’em peaceable an’ serene as a ore on top uv a speckled toad; yes, sir-ee, you bet! I heerd o’ the chap, an’ give him jest ten dol- lars ter cum an’ extract sum 0’ thet devi/-blood outen my tonguey an’ pugilistic old mother-in-law. But *twar no use. He broke his jaws ther very fust try, an’ a hull Injun nation mourned his loss. No! no! don’t ye try drink Dickey’s blood, Careless Cu- cumber, or ye’ll git a dose o’ physic w’at’ll go owe your systematic construction wuss’n lead ‘Well, maybeI shall take your advice, Alva, and ain, maybe I shall not. Anyhow, look out for me, shoud Lever get the drop upon you. for Llove you just the same as ever. Adieu, old elk!” And the Spaniard stepped to one side, passed, and stalked on toward East Flood Bar. Avalanche watched him until he reached the bridge 1 across to the shore; then hurried on to inform Bel- mont. A perplexed expression mantled the Annihilator’s face, for he thee one of the deepest puzzles of his life. His eyes told him the exhibited head was that of Deadwood Dick, but his heart rebelled against such an idea, and here, too, was another and no less aman bre, declaring that Dick still lived. But sober thought had decided in all minds, except that of the old war-path veteran, that Dead Dick had at last come to the end of his adventure- some career, and that it was his head which the two California sharpers had swimming in their glass jar, in under the pavilion, One evening Messrs. Hallowton and Miles hada new “star” upon their consequently a _ crowd was attracted. The star was a c Ae boxer, a professional, by the way, who had ed considerable fame up at Hayward y- e had oor cleaned out the ee br ei: in Flood ht have been assu e was read to cues strength with the ites of that place. Bus as he could dare no one to box with him, @ pro ed another line of sport. His name was Blue Bill, and he invited the crowd outside, where from his improvised spring-board he astonished the natives by some of his remarkable feats in jumping. Once he tyres = aenanee oe a feet, again, thirty, and a third thirty-three “Thar ye aire, gentlemen!” cried this long, lathy individual, as he stood and gazed triumphant! around. “T ain't no bettin’ man, myself, but I’ wager @ gold eagle thar ain't a man in the crowd iin ekal my leap!” “Great illustrative ham-bone, thet did oki Joner instruct!’ ejaculated Old Avalanche, who was one of the spectators. “I wish my hinges warn’t so dasted stiff and rusty, young feller, or I'd try yea whirl.” “Hurral wake up. Do ary man want ter leap wi’ me?” sung Blue Bill, capering back, and snapping a jugeier's staff of gold eagles into the air. ‘“ Hayr am, plain, homely, an’ honest disposed, willing ter bet one gold eagle I kin beat any man in the crowd porte frum ther spring-board.”’ “Tl take you!” cried a voice, and a slim, spind- ling youth, with beard lees face, pushed forward. “Put up your stakes and go ahead.” Two eagles were accordingly deposited in the hands of a bystander, and Blue Bill trotted back a score of yards from the spring-board, in order to get Nature had adorned him. So that his skull was left | as glossy and shining as the bald s | head, which gave to him a rather tin.an old man’s umorous appear- ance, His attire was rich and elegant, consisting of a | light cassimere suit throughout, with patent-leather | shoes upon his feet, and a late-styled silk hat upon a good start; then he came bounding forward as | swiftly as a frightened hare. Up the spring-board—then like a meteor he shot forward through the air, ’mid wild shouts from the crowd, and then struck down upon a fine soft bed of sand which had been raked up Pee Where he struck he remained firmly rooted to the spot, and a measurement was quickly taken. “ Thirty-five feet!” cried the verdict, and the crowd cheered ee P The stripling loon, mather grim as he heard the announcement, but did not hesitate. He meant to try his best, whether he won or lost. ith a wave of his hand to the vast audience, he ran back half the distance Blue Bill had, and then leaped ahead with determination. n—on—up the spring-board, and then came the leap—one which caused the spectators to give a gasp | of wonder, Then the stripling struck lightly down in the sand, | | matador arouses his bull. and the measuring man ran forward. “Thirty-nine feet and a half!’ he shouted, and then the crowd took up the cry, and the night rung loudly with acclamations of 4 lause, “Tt’s a cheat! it’salie! I t a hundred dollars I can beat the spindle-shanks!” bellowed Blue Bill, “ And I'll take you!”’ accepted the victor, making a deposit. ‘‘Go ahead, and if you'll jump a hund- red feet, I'll make a point onyou. My name is Fred Feather!” “And I'll lay you ’way behind, sure’s mine’s Blue Bill!’ the boxer cried. “Oh! yes, ondoubtedly ye will!’’ commented Old Avalanche. ‘‘ Lord! Great ham-bone thet censured old Joner. Ef my Prudence Cordeliar war only hayr, how beauchifully she ked get away wi’ thet brag. Why, et’s a solid-cast, actooal fact thet she once ere cl’ar over herself in endeavorin’ ter catch a oss-fly w’at war buzzin’ about. ‘“Tain’t nothin’, Mah 8 get used to it, gentlemen.” : A ich—drawing the long-bow, or jumping, old man?” questioned Miaco, who had come up to see beg Bo ‘ “Either, Stubby, my ray o’ sunshine. But, luk; hayr cums ther galoot like a streak o’ greased votes on their way ter meet ther inwestigatin’ committy.”’ For with a shout, Blue Bill sprung forward like the wind, every nerve and muscle exerted for the contest. On, up, the spring-board with pan- ther-like agility—then the leap and the announce- ment of the distance. “Forty feet!’ cried the man of measure, amid great excitement. Not a word said Blue Bill now, but there was an evil glitter in his eyes. He stood to one side, and watched Fred Feather come bounding forward; then just as the youth bounded into mid-air, Blue Bi pulled a pistol from his belt and fired. There followed a wild scream of agony, and the stripling tumbled to the ground, far short of his in- tended goal—dead / The crowd stood at bay, as it were. No one moved to avenge this heartless murder, Not until Blue Bill was about to move awayy and then, while a murmur of indignation ran through the crowd, a young man sprung forward, “Hold! you assassin!’’ he cried, confronting the villain, his eyes flashing, and his face flushed. ‘“ You are not to escape so easy !”’ “Who are ye?” growled Blue Bill, partly raising his revolver. “*Tll—” “No you won't!” cried the other, quickly knock- rp Bonne weapon upward, ‘“ You have got to fight in a different po ha pay for Fred Feather’s life, or my name isn t Hard Chee , nor! don’t deserve my repu- tation for being a Trump Card!” CHAPTER XI. THE ROAD-RIDER’S VICTORY.—CAMBRE ACCUSES. “THREE squeals for Hard Cheek!’’ roared Old Avalanche—" three yoops fer the young galoot as kin lick thunder’n blazes out o’ Blue Bill. And evidently agreeing with the old man’s spirit, the crowd gave a hearty hurrah, which raised a flight of reverberating echoes from the bar, where the scene was transpiring. Blue Bill began to look a trifle dubious, as he saw the spectators form in a ring around him; he saw that he was elected to fight, and that he had an op- ponent ty no means despisable for his muscular For this youthful avenger who had styled himself Hard Cheek, was a fellow of rather striking ap ance. He was of medium hight, and well built, with iromlike limbs noticeable for their swelling muscular contours, a smooth, round face, rather bronzed A the sun, yet ene paar oa ex- pressing humor or anger in a s' ‘ was aface not frequently met with: haziteonie. bold manly and prepossessing. One striking feature of his ap ce was, that his head was as smooth as his face, so far as hair was concerned, the applica- tion of », razor having removed the wig with which his head—or rather upon the ground, now, it having been knocked off in his impetuous rush to intercept Blue Bill. The two men stood face to face, eye to eye, stern resolution evinced on the part of Hard Cheek, and bitter hatred on the part of Blue Bill. The former at length spoke. “Drop your shutin’-iron, Mr. Blue Billian!’’ he said, coolly and authoritatively. “We ain’t a-goin’ fer ter decide this funeral] in thet by Thave a good solid pair of knuckles, and you have the same, wherefore, we will use them, disclaiming the use of mechanical death. Don’t git skeered, now, sweet Billian, for I haven't the least idea but you ought to be able to polish me off in the most scientific man- ner, you being an old hand at it. However, now’s a ood chance fer me ter learn, an’ ef ye do hit me on ee cheek, et’s harder’n a brick, an’ kin stand yer racket!” “Hurray! Great ham-bone w’at philosophized wi’ old Joner! thet’s ther kind o’ talk, me darling! make him b'lieve he ken lick re an’ then let him be surprised w’en he gits a glimpse o’ ther inac- cessible banks ter Jorden,”’ said Avalanche. “Oh! he’ll fight, never fear!” replied Hard Cheek, are a little laugh. ‘‘He dassent run, an’ Ill soon fix him.” And. so saying the Trump Card edged closer te the enraged boxer, with a princes little laugh. He wished to, little by little, arouse Blue Bill, as the And he succeeded ad- mirably, for at last, with a howl of rage, the profes- sional boxer sprung forward, his huge knotty fists doubled, and a glare of devilish hatred in his eyes, Then commenced a battle—a hot contest with the: only physical weapons God bestowed upon man; a. desperate fight—for victory and vengeance. The crowd gazed breathlessly on. They admired: this intrepid youth; to see him come off victorious. was their strongest wish. And from the way the battle started off, it was pretty evident that their wish would be gratified. For Hard Cheek proved himself a master of self- defense. He planted his blows with a decision and accuracy that told, every time, and by the time thirty rounds of blows had been struck, Blue Bill’s face presented an appearance more resembling a battered piece of beefsteak than a human coun- tenance. “Quarter!” he cried, leaping back, blood stream- ing out of his eyes and nostrils. ‘Hold on! I beg!” But, in that same instant he had drawn a revol- re and fired, with the muzzle turned toward Hard eek, But his aim had been unsteady, and a bullet through his adversary’s coat-sleeve was the only re- sult. No! not the only result, for there was, the following moment, a peg ie report, and Blue Bill dropped dead in his cks, while a posse of armed horsemen dashed boldly up onto the Bar, with wild shouts. “The road-agents! the road-agents are upon us!’’ cried the crowd, and instantly there was a scatter- ing in every direction, \ t was indeed a portion of Deadwood Dick’s strong band, who had boldly entered Flood Bar, with Fly- we fey d at their head. d the Flood Bar-ites who had no love for out- laws, only retreated a short distance, then halted, and an to edge, cat-like, toward the enemy. Of the road-agents there were somewhere in the neighborhood of two score, all heavily armed; of those ‘-Ites”’ upon the Bar, probably four times that number, but very few of them ‘“‘ heeled.” Near where lay the dead bodies of Blue Bill and He ty the ong ay mse a, bw ye a u stirru ying Floy ced over the ey oF grim, baardiad faces around and on every side. ‘*Men of Flood Bar!’’ he cried, “‘we do not come here to fight—neither do we come to despoil you or yours. e come to view what is said to be the head of our late commander, Deadwood Dick. I do not wish a disturbance, and if you create one the results be upon your own head. Forward, boys.” The word was obeyed, and in a body the band moved forward and stopped before the tent wherein the two Californians were exhibiting the head. One of these sharpers was exhorting to a crowd as the poasoqense came up, and it was to him Flying Floyd spoke, in his leasant yet firm voice. “* Sir—exhibitor of the head of Deadwood Dick, we, his followers, have come to look upon his face, which ou claim to have preserved life-like and natural ou will confer a favor b bringing it out, where we can see it, and decide as to its iden’ 4 e “Reckon not, copting.'. replied the California with a grim chuckle. “It costs thirty cents to x thet sight. Reckon et would cost about twelve dol- lars ahead fer ye, seein’ ye aire road-agents, an’ have plenty o’ tin. “We pay no license, no toll, no fee, my friend!” was Floyd’s response, “‘ and it is a certainty that we shall never pay you a cent to view the head of our late chief. Fetch it out, at once, or we'll trample your ranch so deep into the ground that it'll take ou longer to excavate it than it has the ruins cf ‘ompeii. None o’ yer lip, either, or there’llebe a. dead rascal ying where you stand, to keep company with Blue Bill, back yonder.” With a wl the ifornian vanished within the tent, and & Floyd turned to his men.
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Beadle’s Half-Dime Li “ Mightis right, in this case!”’ he said, with a smile “although it will somewhat decrease these devils receipts, I reckon.” The exhibitors were a long time a-coming, but they came at last, bearing the glass case between them in which swam the head of Deadwood Dick. A ery of sayep pemcrear and sorrow went up from the lips of the road-agents—a wail of grief, as it were, for many there were in the band who had served under the Prince of the Road during his first campaign in the hills, and loved him with an undying brotherly de- votion. *Tis, indeed, the head of our chief, mates!’’ cried Floyd, a tear glistening in either eye—‘‘ he whom, I am sure, oredy one of us loved and respected. We would have fought for him alive—why should we hesitate to avenge him when he is dead? A question arises—how came his head in the possession of these two rascals? Does it not point to them as his mur- derers? Ay! of course it Noun and they who take as shall die also, saith I, Flying Floyd. Seize them, joys!" dozen of the road-agents leaped from their sad- ‘dies and rushed toward the two Californians, who had dropped the glass case and drawn their re- volvers. And undoubtedly their capture would have been effected but for another occurrence just then. There was a wild shout, and the whole multitude began to rush forward, firing as they came. ing Floyd saw in an instant that the Flood Bar-ites had opened upon them, and knew they would have no mercy upon the followers of poor Deadwood Dick. “To your saddles!” he cried, sternly, all his blood aroused—“‘forward! Shoot down every mother’s son that mf emg ou, for they opened the affray of their own free will!” And right valiantly the road-agents responded b speeding bullets true and fast against their assail- ants. For five minutes there was an incessant roar of revolver shots, scnpneany ‘= with dying screams; then the road-agents burst from the ring, and, leav- ing half their number dead and dying upon the Bar, dashed away at breakneck speed up over the bluff, and away cut of sight. But if a score of their num- ber they had left upon the battle-field, twice as many of the enemies of Deadwood Dick had fallen. And a doubly-bitter feeling was excited against the road-agents., ; Hard Cheek soon was a general favorite about Flood Bar. He was an expert buchario, and could manage the ugliest cayuse with the greatest ease. He was equally a good shot, card-player and miner, though he a poaxes to have plenty. of cash, and had no need to alt golden sands for a living. With Ava- lanche he soon became famous friends, and where was one, the other might easily be found. But that Hard Cheek had enemies, before long be- came apparent. His free and independent way, and **cheeky ” assurance, while it amused some, anger- -ed others, and then the fact that he would not sub- -on the Bar, in need of money. I must have money i mit to bluffing or excess of tongue, generally led into a row, in which the rightly-termed Trump Card al- ways was a “trump.” ne evening a few days subsequent to the battle ard Cheek was in the Inter-Ocean, watching the scenes transpiring around him, when he was accosted by an old man whom he had several times before noticed on the Bar. An old man, with snow-white hair and beard, and a perceptible stoop in his shoulders, attired in rags, and leaning upon crutch and cane, And this was what he said: *Good-evening, my son. Could you do an old man a favor?” ‘* A favor, is it?’ said Hard Cheek, staring in sur- prise. “ Well, it depends somewhat on what the fa- vor isto be. if ye war ter ask me to put a telefone- roof over sum loafer’s eye, or speak wi’ my revolver phonographically inter another galoot’s ear, I might, perhaps, ob! you. But, ef ye war wantin’ me ter vow6 for you for President, or ter lend ye a milyun ter b’ild an elevated railroad wi’, I don’t judge ye've tackled the wrong man, nor ther right, either. I’m bu'sted, by thunder!’’ “ Ah! but the latter is also my case. I am sorely “Yas, I presume so, but thet don’t say I’m yer bank to drawon. Who are you?” “TI am—Carlos Cambre, in disguise!” replied the man, in a whisper. “Qh! you are, eh?’ Hard Cheek replied, eying “Mr. Cambre, latively. ‘Why the di at “ Because I did not you to recognize me, and get the drop on me.” “Oh! you didn’t? See here, ain’t you off the track?” ““No! why do you ask?” ‘Because it kinder ‘pears ter me as how you're mistaken in ther chap ye’re talkin’ to. Great Cosser ‘Bet my life you've been dri nking.”’ “No I haven't. Narya drink for a week, But drunk or no drunk you are Deadwood Dick!” “ The devil, you say!” “No, simply Deadwood Dick. I know you, for all your altered appearance. You can’t make the Hot Harris business work any longer.” Hard Cheek calmly lit a cigar, as he gazed at the mar ye Spaniard. ‘Is there a mad-house, near here?’’ was his next thoughtful question. “Not that I knows of ; why?” “Why, I didn’t know but you had just escaped.” “Bah! Deadwood Dick, bah! don’t try to stuff me, for I won’t hold another mite. What I want is money, and if you give it to me, I'll let you go on our own hook} otherwise I shall introduce you to these gentlemen of Flood Bar, who love you so well.” ** You don’t say so?” ** Yes I do, and the next act upon your programme will be aerial suspension by the win pipe.” ‘Well, now you do hit me precisely,”’ Hard Cheek said, with enthusiasm. ‘I never tried hanging yet, and would really like to take a trial, Supposin’ you just go over and whisper to some of them gentle- men, that I am anxious to swing from the most con- venient tree, at once!” Cambre swore the most horrible Spanish oath u on his list. The cool, provoking nonchalance of this | shaved-headed youth was beyond comparison. “ But, the money?” hereminded. ‘‘ You have lots, and must divide, or I will betray you, as sure’s my name is Cambre.” “Go long and do it then; I’m waiting with all patience for you to do it,” Hard Cheek laughed, mockingly. For a few moments the ex-lieutenant hesitated. He was wondering, if, as the Trump Card had said, he were not off the track. No! he would not have it 80, and raising his voice he shouted: ‘Help! Help! Deadwood Dick!” CHAPTER XI. DEADWOOD DICK’S SUCCESSOR. Amone the improvements which were being added to the Flood Bar, was a printing-press, which turned out a dirty little six by ten sheet, containing the news of the Bar, and such other information as could be gleaned from the Deadwood P echy which were brought in on the stages. This Mine7’s Progress con- sidered itself an enterprise of much importance ; had its staff of reporters, who furnished “ accurate and vivid” descriptions of every street-fight, brawl, or wholesale slaughter, and having a large sale at twenty-five cents apiece, it managed to exist as a newspaper. On the morning of the day, in the evening of which Hard Cheek encountered Carlos Cambre at the Inter- pte the Miner’s Progress contained the following item: “Roap-AGEenTrRY. A new star is said to have dawn- ed upon the horizon, to replace notorious Deadwood Dick, whose head still continues to attract attention at the museum, This time it isa woman who is said to have one time been Deadwood Dick’s wife, al- though they have not been vie 2 together for some time past. This female robber is beautiful, refined, and well educated, but a very devil-cat of reckless- ness. She is at the head of Dick’s old band, and swears to spare no pains to reap a harvest of ven- eance upon her enemies, of whom she has a num- er. So ye enemies of Deadwood Dick, look out lest ye bestung by this female serpent of the Black Hills.” The cries of Carlos Cambre through the Inter- Ocean saloon, of course created considerable excite- ment, for almost anywhere in the Black Hills, the name of Deadwood Dick was an omen of ill to come. The crowd quickly approached; all games were for the time suspended, and a murmur of wonder and excitement ran riot Sra ‘Where is he?—where is Deadwood Dick, you ga- loot?’ shouted Joe Hallowton, one of the proprie- tors, as he elbowed his way forward. “Show me the road-agent cuss.” ¥ + ial Dick’s dead, long ago!’’ shouted the crowd. “Got his head cut off mit his neck!’’ “Died frum a cut in his thrut!”’ “Got his head on exhibition, over yere in ther museum,” “Too thin! Dick’s speerit aire roamin’ wi’ angel Gabriel, long ago.” And a dozen other exclamations of a correspond- ing nature, ‘Whar is this man?’’ repeated Hallowton, draw- ing a revolver which carried a fifty cartridge. “I want ter see him an’ play Fourth o’ July wi’ his royal ribs.” ‘Here! here he is!’’ shouted back Carlos Cambre, pointing accusingly toward Hard Cheek. “There’s your man, wi’ his hirsute possessions shaved off, and his handle changed to Hard Cheek. Thar’s stab huckleberry, an’ I'll bet my ducats the man’s Deadwood Dick.’ “Oh! yes, without doubt!’ Hard Cheek assented, with a grim little laugh and a grimace. “That galoot Deadwood Dick?” said Hallowton, as, backed by his crowd, he paused in front of the outh and surveyed him critically from head to foot. t ‘That galoot ther road-agent kuss? Oh, no! that ain’t he, my friend, an’ I'll bet my shanty on’t.” “No! that ain't no Deadwood Dick, nv more am I!” cried a eat, lumbering miner, fresh in from Deadwood City; “nary a bit of it. Reckon I know that same Dick, fer he owes me a couple o’ hundred, wich he cheekily borrowed at different times w’en he tolled the stage.”’ “T say it is Harris, and I’m positive of it!” Cambre protested, “and t comman you, citizens, who have the power, to arrest this man and deliver him up to the proper authorities. I stand the bs. be “Ho! ho! Reckon we ain’t stickin’ our fingers inter unobtrusive pie, just for your sake, Mr. Cam- bre!’ Hallowton replied, scornfully. ter take ther chap, go ahead an’ take him, fer I won’t pay Ad Pi bet yer life.” “Nor I!’ “Nor I!” chimed in the crowd. ‘‘ Hard Cheek ain’t Deadwood Dick no more’n old Sittin’ Bull aire Presydent Hayes!” “Great ham-bone, no!” put in Old Avalanche, just at this moment coming up. ‘Deadwood Dick aire up on the shores o’ Jordan, pannin’ out golden wings fer ther use o’ angels. Just got a phonograffic tole- gram frum him. Hey, Cheeky, my fragrant poppy war they tryin’ ter make ye out a cavortin’, buckin road-rider?’ “Ee ye want | + | brary. “Well, yes, it kinder looks so!” the Trump Card replied, witha smile. ‘‘Shouldn’t wonder if they’d succeeded, ef their argyment hed cum from any one but this galoot,” with a wry glance at Cambre, who, seeing that defeat was his, had turned, and was stalking away. And from thence on Hard Cheek was a citizen among citizens, and all thoughts of his being Dead- wood Dick were dissipated. Cambre, however, hung like a shadow upon his trail, and could not be shaken off. Evil was there in the Spaniard’s heart, which needs must be let out. He was living at the big hotel upon the eastern bank, and Edith Stone, the girl-fiend who was his evil-genius, lived with him. She rarely ever came forth, and when she did it was only to ea morn- ing gallop for the benefit of her health, which was rapidly ¢ eclining. rhe night of Cambre’s defeat, he returned to their suit of rooms, in a very ugly temper. Edith was evidently waiting for him, for she glided forward from a dark corner—a wild had met her up in the Black Hills “Well?” she demanded, confronting Cambre, flercely—*‘ what news do you b , this time?” “Good, in some ee pte bad others!’ he re- pee seating himself. ‘tI have found Deadwood 1 , . & wild, half-de- moniac expression upon her countenance, “Yes, he is alive, and so is Leone Harris. She is at the head of Deadwood Dick’s band.” ““How do you know?” “T read it in the paper.” “and does Deadwood Dick know that she is lead- ing his band?” ‘I cannot say as to that, for the news only came out in this morning’s paper. Besides, I have no posi- tive ted that this Hard Cheek is Deadwood Dick and if he is not, Dick is undoubtedly dead, and that was his head the Californians had upon exhibition. I accused Hard Cheek of be ck, and called down the crowd upon him, to-night, but they cleared him by a unanimous decision that he was not Dead- wood Dick. So, as the matter rests, it is hard to de- cide whether he is our enemy or not.” “Oh! that the hour of my vengeance would come!"" the girl hissed, as she paced up and down the room, like an enraged tigress. ‘‘Ah! Deadwood Dick, you devil, the day wid/ come when it shall be in my pow: er to rend your hard heart as you have rent mine.” ““Yes, there is at least one chance left for ven- geance, even if Dick is not alive. Through his wife we can strike him a blow. So take comfort, and while we are waiting for our opportunity to nab Le- one, we will also keep a vigilant eye upon the move- ments of Hard Cheek.” The retreat of Deadwood Dick’s men was in a little Paani mee some twelve miles north-west of Flood Bar. In the pocket which had but one means of ac- cess, ber a, a a narrow gap or natural fissure, the outlaw-hunters had built them a village, consisti of perhaps a score of cabin dwe -" e store-house, and a jail or strong-cabin, which had been constructed ally for the accommodation of oo his was the main rendezvous of the whole of Deadwood Dick’s Road-agent and Regulator band, which now comprised nearly a hundred members each an advocate of death to ruffianism. This great force was divided into five divisions of twenty each, and all but Lieutenant Floyd’s command was scat- tered in other parts of the Hills, where they carried out the declaration of war against outlaws, accord- «ig Deadwood Dick’s will. Each member wore a silver badge on which was engraven the words— “Deapwoop Dick’s EaGuEs.”’ In the village, we will now go, to see what is occur- ring there, one day later. Some of the Eagles were lounging lazily in front of their cabins; others were strolling about, perha accompanied by a female, fora large per cent. of the men were married, and had families. In front of one of the prettiest cabins, two women -— sitting on rr Oy — in the fresh morning sunshine, and talking as they sew — Hani dress — a és —— ne of them we have often met before, and by her supple form, her beautiful face, and her apinine eyes, we might recognize her as Leone Harris, the wife of Deadwood Dick, had we not her wealth of brick-red hair for further proof and identification. Yes, it was indeed Leone, still looking fresh and girlish, despite the trouble she had passed through; ne whom last we met under those distressing circumstances, (in No. 49) which:robbed her of her infant son, and separated her from her husband, whom every one now believed bedead. And very sad and grief-stricken was the Ifttle woman, now, at times; then, at others, she. would grow fierce and resentful, and long to strike a blow for every drop of Deadwood Dick's blood. Flying Floyd it was who had found her roaming alone in the mountains, and hee her by a previous description Deadwood Dick had enthusias- tically given of her. He had a her home to the village, and in the absence of Dick, the men had heartily acknowledged her as their chief and queen. The companion sitting by her side, was she whom Flying Floyd had rescued from Big John’s ruffian | band—Nolie Waltonby—the only legitimate child of the Musquekang valley herder and farmey, Since their escape from the Devil’s pit, Floyd had never found it convenient to take herp her father, for the lieutenant was really in love with the dusky Leau.y,
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] es and he knew that the case was not urgent. And it was she who was speaking. “‘T must prevail upon Mr. Floyd to take me to my father’s home, so that I may see him whom old Mar- keesa taught me to hate. If I can induce him to ive me back the stolen wealth which rightfully be- abd to me, I willthen return here and stay as long as you permit me,” “Which will be as long as you choose to stay, eet sister,” Leone replied, ‘‘for your company is a comfort tome. None of the other women are so | near to my nature as you, and I shall ever wish to have younearme. But, I fear that will not be long, ‘for if my eyes are not telling me wrong, there is another who soq will claim a larger share in your love than I shail dare to nope for; and there the lucky one comes, now,” she added, pointing up to- ward the gap, from which a horseman was just en- tering the pocket. It was ing Floyd, and the soft flush that crept into Nolie’s dusky cheek, betrayed that an interest been awakened in her heart for the handsome, dashing lieutenant. “Mr. Floyd has never said anything more than commonplaces, to me,” she replied, conscious that her heart was beating with delicious little throbs. “No, perhaps not; but his ~~ speak where his lips are pore perelrsed. Oh! I know all about it, olie. He will propose, ere long, and if you think you can love him, such as he is, you had better ac- Somes for he is a good, true man. I took poor Dick as he was, a hunted outcast, and I don’t think I shall ever regret it. For souge. Wey tell me he is dead, I shall never cease to love gen By be time Flying Floyd had ridden up and dis- mounted. y the hills is destined to lay Deadwood and Custer in the shade.” “Indeed? Did you hear anything concerning Di- visions Three, Four, Five, and Six?” “Yes. They are all working well, and the people are just beginning to realize their worth. Last week Division Four captured the whole of Outlaw Tom’s gang, and delivered them up into the keeping of the mili at Reno. And I see the affair was credited, by the Deadwood Pioneer, as one of the good deeds of Deadwood Dick’s men.” “Ah! that is good. What prospects are there of your getting at ig John and his gang?” “Oh! we shall fetch them by and by. I have in- trusted the matter to my sub-aid’s keeping.” “ Did you find out anything concerning the errand be se aa I sent you?’ Leone asked, gazing ‘though ly away. Ye my lady. Carlos Cambre and the woman, Edith Stone, are. both in Flood Bar, and that they ang ~peag your life upon the first opportu- am certain, phcbable if they know where I am.” “Oh! ae do, for the Progress has announced that you are with us,”’ “Well, we can consider that — included as ruf- fians, and I give it as my order that you hang them uP, the very first time you meet them. If I meet them, I shall shoot them as I would an offending wolf—for what else are sey than human wolves? Did you learn anything of Hawk Harrington?” **No more than that he is in Flood —waiting for you also, without doubt.” “Yes, and for him I have a bullet laid up. Poor Nora! she, who was a a with me, under Hawk Eecipaios. power! I wonder whether or not she is ve?’ “Probably alive, but hiding. Now, Miss Nolie. if you are ready, and I think you are, I will order Sacwier Rees, aad = will ride down into the Mine. ue valley and interview this rascally parent o Foore think I can talk turkey to him!’ CHAPTER XIU. TREASURE.—HOSTILITIES AGAINST HARRINGTON. _ Mr. Wattonsy, the —~ oy valley farmer, and his hter were returning to their home Pirough the gloaming of the night following the lieu- tenant’s return from Flood Bar to Deadwood Dick’s village. They had been to an intermediate stage station, a few miles to the eastward of their resi- dence, where business had kept the farmer until late. But, mounted upon swift, reliable steeds, they had no fears but they could reach their home in safety. The road or trail lay through the bottom of the valley, which was matted by a dense growth of oung trees, and consequently it grew dark within forest, ere it was really dark outside upon the clear land. ik : “Go lang, Sula! cc d the farmer, as he urged along his horse. ont like to be out late of his, any more, for my recent illness and the fact of Deadwood Dick’s robbers being around, makes me Bol segk do not think they are here in ut, pa ou L re in-our valley, 4 Pout” uestioned Ida, in alarm. “ ‘There no telling where they may not be, daughter,” was the reply. ‘“‘Because of our pretty home, they may memes that they could realize a large haul of money by raiding us. “Oh! dear, to think of those awful men, makes is oan ly drew rein il Waltonby sudden’ w rein. a t is it, father?” ida asked, anxiously. ‘Nothing, child, except that I wish you to ride on home, alone. It is toe half a mile yet, and it will not take long fer you to accomplish that distance on the back of your noble steed.” | | } Deadwood Dick’s Eagrles. “Oh! I am going to see Joel Garner concerning cutting some timbers for me, and as this is much the nearest route to his house, I will start from here. Tell your dear mother I will be home in a couple of | hours, without fail.’ | *“Won’t you let me go with you, papa? Ishould enjoy the ride so much.”’ “No, not to-night, Ida,” the farmer replied, and smiling a good-by, he spurred his horse into the branch-path, and was soon hidden from view by the bushes. When out of sight he slackened the speed of his horse to a walk, and as he rode slowly along, fell in- to a fit of musing. “IT don’t think the child suspected me of an un- truth, as sharp as she is,” he muttered, glancing | sharply around and listening. ‘No, there she goes, | now, homeward bound, so I need have no fear of de- | tection. Get up, Cherry, for I am anxious to learn | if my treasure is still resting intact.” And so saying he again spurred on into a gallop, riding with a grace and ease not often observed in | men past the middle age. For perhaps half an hour he kept on through | the dark woodland, his steed seeming to know well the night-enshrouded path; then the farmer drew | rein, and dismounted at the foot of a pine-tree, which stood a few rods away from the trail. First | mea cautiously around to see that no one was mmediately near, he ape away a great mass of | leaves which the wind had evidently drifted against the tree’s base, and reaching down into a hole among the gnarled roots, he pulled out a safe of tin, which was locked with a tiny padlock. “Thank heaven the money is all intact!’’ he mut- tered, hefting the safe. ‘My dream was fortunately a lie. I don’t know how I came to dream of Mar- keesa, for she is far away—unless—unless Red Lark has let her escape as he intimated in his words to my daughter, Yes, the money is here—all of Mar- keesa’s wealth, which she intrusted to me after our marriage.” Fitting a small key into the lock, he raised the lid, and glanced in to see that all was satisfactory. Ap- parently it was, for he relocked the primitive treas- ury, replaced it in the hole, then covered the leaves carefully over. “There!” he muttered; ‘it can now remain there until I die, when my will will disclose its hiding- place to my wife and daughter, Ida. Now I will re- turn home, lest suspicion be created by my ab- sence.”’ * But what will you do, papa?”’ | | Night at Flood Bar, with an air most stifling in its heat, even though it be yet but May, a spring-time month. All the population are lying around loose. out of doors, fanning and drinking, and drinking and fanning. Old Avalanche and Hard Cheek were sitting upon | all the same.”’ the balcony of the Inter-Ocean, watching the crowd upon the single street below, and across on the Bar, where cosey frame structures were fast replac- ing the canvas abodes. juirrel Creek had been obstructed by a mighty dam, just above the Bar, which backed a level lake of water far back into the dark narrow canyon, where the chief mining interest and attention were turned, Upon this lake or pond, the soaring reddish moon threw a strange soft radiance, and dwelt with — effeet upon the picturesque landscape, and scene ow. Avalanche and the shaved-headed Trump Card were calmly enjoying their cigars, and listening to the strains of music diffused by a San Francisco er n band, now and then exchanging a few re- marks. But something occurred, presently, which revived their interest in animate th me A man came strolling through the veranda, and descended the stairs to the street below. Instantly Squirrel Sam; who had also been sitting upon the cony, arose and and glided softly after. “Thar!” quoth Avalanche, with a screwing up of his mouth—‘“I told ye. Thet ‘are Squar’l Sanvacl hes got a secrit, an’ I knowed it, an’ that fust chap, w'ich aire Hawk Harrington, aire concerned in et. Just place yer right fut before yer left, Hard Cheek, and Pt nage along wi’ yer uncle ef ye’ve got any desire to precipitate yerself ‘in’ an ’arth- quake o’ fun, fer fun aire thar in this arid atmos- phere, you bet! Mebbe we won’t be uv any use, and mebbe, ag’in, we kin put in a little work fer Sammy.” “Mebbe better you let ther galoot fut his own | stockin’s!”” suggested Hard Cheek, speculatively. ** But, P'll go, an’ we'll hear ther musick ef we don’t make er cent.” Accordingly the two eccentrics arose, and started down the stairs in the wake of Squirrel Sam, who was by this time hurrying up the street, closely dog- | g the foootsteps of wk Harrington, the San | uis valley herder. What the mute miner wanted with the herder was the question which puzzled the minds of both Hard Cheek and the Annihilator, and bound were they to keep on until they acquired the solution. awk Ha mm was presently seen to enter a newly-erected cabin at the upper end of the town and Squirrel Sam was seen to take refuge behin a clump of trees, with the evident intention of watching the cabin. But he came forth, as the Annihilator and Hard Cheek approached, a hard look upon his handsome features. “Hello! aire thet you, Sam’ly” Avalanche saluted ood-naturedly. ‘‘ What's up wi’ yer ducks? Hain’t ed road-agent, hev you” The miner shook his ead, with a smile, and then, for the first time that he had ever been heard, in Flood Bar, he spoke: “No, not exactly playing road-agent, my friends, | 11 but keeping watch of that devil in man’s disguise, who just entered yonder cabin.” *“*You mean Hawk Harrington, eh?” “T do, most decidedly—the man butcher, outlaw, thief, and kidnapper. Perhaps you have wondered since I have been among Pb! why I remained literally mute. I may as well tell you that it was be- cause of a vow I had sworn—a vow of vengeance against that man—never to speak until I hed kilied him. The vow I have broken, but I shall kill him ““An’ ef ye want any help, ye’re’s a part o’ ther great Annihilation left, w’at kin lend ye a fiuke in! ther most liberal manner, fer I owe that same pil- | grim a score, in ther settlin’ up 0’ Deadwooe Dick's‘ debts of gratitude ter his enemies. But what are ye down on Hawk Harrington about, Squar’l?"’ ““Beeause he brought desolation upon me and mine!’ Sam replied, a dark shadow coming over his countenance. “If you care to hear, I can soon in- | form you of my hatred for the accursed wretch and | you will say that my hate is not without a cause. “A short time ago I was a happy man in my snu little home down near Virginia City, Nevada. J h a wife and two pretty children, aged three and one; also, my home was made happier by the presence of my sister, a beautiful girl of eighteen. Thus, with a liberal mining income, I had things pretty much to my liking. “But one day, when I was absent, my home was raided, my money stolen, my wife and children mas- sacred and scalped, and my sister carried off into captivity. I returned to behold the fearful sight; then I swore before God never to rest until I had killed each and every one concerned in the tragedy. It was a part of my oath never to speak to mortal man or woman until my vow was fulfilled. And never have I until this moment. “ By investigation I found that the chief marau- ders were Bannock Indians, and that this Hawk Harrington was their temporary leader, for, havin; seen my sister, he had resolved to possess her, an got the reds to assist him. The Indians I killed and scalped ere I came here, and now I want Hawk Har- rington, to complete the list. That he has my sister in yonder cabin, or somewhere close at hand, I am almost certain. She was in that Black Cabin, i have since learned, and escaped with another girl, on the a of the fire. But I believe he has recaptured er. “Great ham-bone, w’at enlarged ther swallerin’ capacity uv old Joner! Then that cuss is just sp’ilin’ fur a hang. Are ye with us in ther celebration o' our festivities, Cheeky?” “That I am!” Hard Cheek replied, with enthu- siasm. “Then come along—forrard—march!” And, swinging his hat, the Annihilator Jed the way toward the cabin, followed by Sam and the Trump Card CHAPTER XIV. THE TRUMP CARD’S GREAT SHOT. Ir was but a matter of a few rods to the cabin which Hawk Harrington had entered, a few mo- ments before. - Straight up to the door of the cabin the three men marched, never thinking for a moment that the con- cealed ruffian-herder might shoot them down as they came. It was a good solid whack that Old Avalanche gave the door, and then he and his companions list- ened intently. : ““What’s wanted?’ was demanded by from the inside. ‘‘ Who'r the devil be ye?” “Who? Great uproariously-demented ham-bore w’at kicked up a row in ther stummick uv staid old Joner! Is et possibul ye don’t recognize us? Jist come out hayr, Mister Hawksum Harrington, fer we wanter ter interview ye on ’portant bizness relating ter trade an’ commerce. Mebbe we'll make ye a present of a big bonanza, or p’r’aps we'll give ye a seat in the House on ther floor!” “Get out, or I'll put an ounce ball through ye!” uff tones “Oh! pshaw! ye wouldn’t do sech an inhuman act as that, would ye, beloved Hawk? Ye wouldn't o back on yer relatives, would ye? Kim out and eliver an address. Thet’s all we want 0’ ye, beloved Hawker o’ female beauty—jest ter speechify ter us, w’ether et aire te: be silver or greenbacks—w’ether et ar’ ter be Sittin’ Bull or old Grant, next term!” There was no response from the inside, but from sounds of things slamming about, it became evident to the three men that the Luis valley hurder was literally “ getting up on his ear.” “‘Oh! he's b’ilin’!"* observed Hard Cheek, with an appreciative grin, “But won't git cooked till we snatch him bald- headed!” nted the great Annihilator, with a grim laugh. «Gum! cum! aire ye ever goin’ ter appear before us, you artistic son-of-a-polar bear—you pin- feathered goslin?” The answer came in arather suddenif not unex- ted way. A bullet from an unseen source whist- ed so close to Avalanche’s ear, or where had once ~tam been his ear, as to cut away a lock of hair that the ‘ old scout had trained down to hide his loss. “Whew! that was a cluss one!” mildly remarked Hard Cheek, glancing around. ‘Cum frum inside, I reck.”’ “Yas, that’s ther percise location from w’ither cumeth thet bullet. awk Harrington has opened his batteries onter us. Cluss shave, too, but nothin’ like sum w’at this old disease 0’ destruction hes bin through. Once I war so nigh ter heaven that I hed really got ter ther shore o’ ther eternal river. But ther ferry-boat had bu’sted her b’iler an’ war laid up fer repairs, so I got tired o’ waitin’ an’ kim back ter dwell among ye—solid, actooal fact ba gracious. Oh! yes, that war a sassy bullet, my beloved dew: -
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12 drop, but not a dasted sarcumstance ter them ther ahi 2 Annihilator has dispatched as_messengers 0’ orei, thr’! schol Injins, an’ afterwards served ter fill ther gums uv an old maid up in Yankton, Dakoty. Et war made 0’ gold, ye see!” “Tt is advisable for us to git out of this, and not make a target for the ruffian’s bullets!”’ said Squirrel Sam, as soon as the irrepressible Annihilator would let him drop in a word. ‘He probably has loop- holes in the walls, and could defend himself against a dozen, instead of two or three.” ; **Then what are we to do, in such a case?”’ demand- ed Hard Cheek, “TI don’t know just yet. and consider.” “*Hold on! don’t guv up yet! Mebbe ther galoot will wanter accept. Aire ye thar, beloved Hawk?”’ An angry growl was the only response from the in- side, and that growl human and savage. “Oh! yes, I see ye’re thar,”’ continued the scout. ““*Spose ye ain't made up yer mind ter cum out an’ let us heer frum ye on ther great political an’ finan- cial question ?”’ “No! git out, curse you, or I’ll send another bullet squar inter ye?” “Great ham-bone thet enraged Joner! ’tain’t no use— He a a moment; then in a whisper added: “Sh!” I’ve struck anijeer? Don’t speak loud, on- lesst ye she’d frighten et away—Cum back o’ ther house, an’ I'll tell ye.” Accordingly the three men crept around to the back side of the house, where there was but little space between the logs and mountain walls of cold grey rock. Darkness had increased into night by this time, and the greet moon was beaming all its mellow splendor down over an earth’s whole landscape. ““What’s yer plan?’ Hard Cheek demanded, when ae oe q ered behind the rude dwelling. ‘“ Out th it.” ““You bet! nevyer know’d ther Annihilation ter keep an ijeer ontil some one else hed conceived et. did ye? Great automatical ham-bone thet distressed old Joner, no! my ijeer’s ter smoke him out!” “Smoke him out?” “Yas, thet’s ther sentence I phonogranonty e —smoke him out, jest ther same as ye would a koon out uv a tree, or an old skulemarm out o’ ther skule’us. I’ve bin thar, boyees, when I war a leetle shaver, knee-yeers old. Used ter smoke out ev’r skulemarm reg’lar once a month. So git reddy wi’ er shootin’-irons, an’ I'll show ye how ther great uman ferret bounces her game.’ ’ Follo the Annihilator’s directions, Squirrel Sam and Hard Cheek hurried away to the nearest stable for straw, while Avalanche watched the cabin. They soon returned with fine hay, which was still detter for their purpose. rth the smoke escaping from the chimney, it was evident that a large fire was burning within the ee all the more favored the purpose of our frien Seizing a bundle of hay in one arm, Avalanche allowed Hard Cheek and Squirrel Sam to boost him up to the roof of the cabin. And while he was stuffing the hay into the chimney, he made a discovery which caused him to send up a yell of ae as he lea) off from the roof to the und. hile he been ascending to the roof, Hawk Harrington had softly stolen out of the front door. and was bounding down toward the dam of Squirrel Creek. “He’s gone! Great everlasting ham-bone thet kaflummixed Joner! he’s gone! An’ he kerries a big bundle in his arms, w’ich looks like a female!” shouted Avalanche, as he reached ground, a distance of twelve feet. “Give me arifle and I'll wing him!’’ cried Hard Cheek, Eee. “Bet my dirty shirt I kin knock him so he’ll never as much as wiggle onc’t.”’ “No! no! you shall not shoot!’’ Squirrel Sam re- eg quickly. ‘It would be risking yonder maiden’s e, and she is my sister. Come, our legs are as strong as his, and we can soon chase him down,” * Ay! ay! hayr we go like a great roarin’, cavortin’ thunder-starm o’ demolition—a veritageable hurri- canader 0’ terrificossity an’ subversioa—a purely Norweejan snow-flake 0’ cantankerous retribution!” shouted the old veteran, as he nimbly led the way in ursuit of the flying ranchero of the San Luis val- Onn with the speed of a prairie deer, the burly herder bounded, sure-footed and yet reckless, as he made his great flying leaps; and on—on followed his three foes, at the top of their speed. Harrington was a swift and easy runner, and it Pogue became ger thet he would not be run down 50 as one t suppose. From the cabin to the dam, the distance was some- over two hundred yards, and sloping down- ward, ee was equally in favor of pursuer and ursu “ On reaching the bank of the dam, nothing would be left the itive but to plunge into the water, or stop and fight back. At least, so thought Avalanche, but he was doomed to disappointment. On reaching the shore, Hawk Harrington gave a yell of defiance; then was seen to leap into a skiff, and pull rapidly out over the calm moonlit waters of the , into the shadows of the sis: = walls. ped Sq ; i , esca uirrel Sam, something siahacoe like a curse found expression from the lips of one valanche, at the provoring defeat which 8 at them. Hard Cheek fortunately, was the coolest one of the three. He neither seemed excited nor angered. He stopped upon the shore of the dam, and drew a We'll retreat under cover | habitually carried his weapons. glory. Once moldeda bullet thet went clean | | more he would be out 0 | tated. revolver from the leg of his knee-boot, where he He cocked it, and then glanced searchingly out over the waters, which shimmered like gold in the brilliant moonlight. Hawk Harrington was pulling desperately toward shelter in the canyon; he had Squirrel Sam’s sister between him and the pursuers; in three minutes the reach of bullets. Hard Cheek, took this all in at a glance, and hesi- Avalanche and Squirrel Sam were watching him eagerly, intently—hoping almost against hope. Both were expert shots, but neither would have | for a moment dared the ange of picking off a man who covered nearly the whole of his person with a human shield, and that shield, the very one they were trying to save. ‘**Quick, or it will be too late!’ Squirrel Sam gasped, excitedly. Somehow he put faith in the un- erring aim of this young sport. ‘*Yas, go on, fer ther sake o’ ther great ham- bone that delivered from peril old Joner!”’ assented Avalanche, craning his neck forward, his fingers working nervously, as if he would like the opportu- nity of putting in his leaden mark, also. “You'll take the risks, eh?” Hard Cheek interro- gated, still watching the departing skiff, with the gaze of a lynx. “It’s a mighty oncertain thing w’ether I’]l kill the one or two of ’em.” “Go on!” rf ony Sam replied, a dark, vengeful expression flitting upon his countenance. ‘‘ Better both should die now, than yonder hell-hound should live. Fire!” . Hard Cheek needed no second invitation; he evi- dently had no love for this Del Norte man, though he made no expression of actual enmity in words. He raised his revolver—a shining, gold-mounted af- glanced alon, fair of the panna pattern—an the tube, between the sights. All he could see o the person of Hawk Harrington was the ruffian’s arms as they worked desperately at the paddles, and a patch of his skull to one side of the maiden’s neck, and just back of his left ear. Otherwise he was effectually screened. Hard.Cheek seemed scarcely to take aim, ere he ulled trigger. A tiny flash, a sharp, ringing report, hat echoed and re-echoed between the canyon walls. He had fired upon the very eve of the skiff’s disap- arance between the walls, where the gloom was ense, and nothing of the result of the venture could be Jearned for some time. There was no answer—neither a death-yell nora shout of defiance. But, by and by, the three men gave a great shout of Joy, as they beheld the skiff drifting back into the dam, with a slight girlish figure a be right in it, waving the slouch sombrero of the herd- er, who lay dead over the stern. The shot of Hard Cheek had been a most remarka- ble one, and turning as he beheld the result, Ava- lanche gazed — and earnestly at the young sport. But, whatever he thought he did not. just then ex- press in words, for the skiff touched shore, and Squirrel Sam sprung forward and caught his sister in his arms with a yell of delight, which even a Co- manche vocalist might have been proud of. CHAPTER XV. WHICH IS A CHAPTER OF EVENTS. Ir wasa getnue reunion, that of Squirrel Sam and his sister Nora, but it would have been a far happier one had the miner's wife and child been ve to have participated in it. But they were dead, and it was but meager satisfaction to Squirrel Sam that Hawk Harrington lay dead at his feet as an offering of vengeance to his slaughtered ones. The bullet, examination proved, had penetrated to the brain through the skull just back of the left ear, and as soon as the first gree with his sister were over Squirrel Sam turned and thank- ed Hard Cheek ve eartily for saving a life so precious to him; while he and Avalanche declared the shot to be one of the most remarkable they had ever seen, “Great ham-bone that eulogized old Joner!”’ the old veteran observed, enthusiasm beaming from his wrinkled countenance—“ thet were shutin’, you jest bet yer Amerikan birt ht! Nevyer see’d but one cuss as ked do as well, an’ thet war Deadwood Dick, in his shutin’ fer ther Big Bonanza mine, up in "Reka. It aire an actooal fact thet he put twenty-four lead pe ag’in’ one spot on ther bull’s-eye and rung the ev'ry time. Then thar war Buffler Benjamin, he war a good shot, but I reckon, Cheeky, thet ye and Dick stand at ther head of yerclass.”’ “And you must allow me to you, also,” said Nora La Grange, ais forth her soft li hand. “Had it not been for your opportune shot, I should in all probability, have been subjected to one of the most horrible fates that this d ruffian could have conceived. Thank God, I have ever been able to hold my o since he captured me, brought me with another lady into the mountains, and shut us a ie. the cabin, which later was borne hither on “This other lady—who was she?’”’ Sam asked. “She was wood Dick’s wife, and so sweet a little woman, that she often was a great comfort to me,’’ Nora replied. ‘‘Wewere shut up ina room together, with a mad Indian woman in the room be- tween us and liberty. Thus we were unable to es- cape, until we fought our way out on the night of the fire. Leone escaped, I guess—at least, we got separated, and I was recaptured by a couple of Hawk Harrington’s tools.” “Well, I thank God that that devil in human shape is dead,” said Squirrel Sam, candidly, “ for it takes a great load off of my mind that my vow of vengeance is complete, What shall we do with the worthless corse?”’ Sa eEge Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. | “Chuck et in ther dam, an’ let ther fishes nibble at: it!” advised Avalanche. > _ “Nary!” put in Hard Cheek, peremptorily. “Tm ee about uv ther opinion that thet ’ar corpuss be- ongs ter a feller about my size, who swings around ther circle under ther name of Hard Cheek, the original Trump Card.” ‘“ How so?” demanded Squirrel Sam, in some sur- prise. “T'll admit that you shot the cuss, but is that any saying that his corse is yours?” ‘*T reckon ther defunct herder aire mine!’ was the — response. “I'll leave it ter Avalanche, ef ye e.” “Very well. If Avalanche says you are to be = sessor of the body, I have no objection,” the er replied, with some curiosity. Avalanche and the sport apie stepped to one side, and the latter whispered a few words, which were inaudible save to the old man. “ Et’s all right,” the Annihilator nodded, as he re- turned, his countenance bearing a surprised expres- sion, while Hard Cheek had kept on down the street into town. ‘Ye mought as well leave ther karkuss layin’ whar et is, fer I reckon ther boy’s entitled ter et about as much as any one.”’ “Very well; then he shall have it,” Squirrel Sam i without question. ‘‘Let us go back into wn ” | Which they accordingly did, on the way meeting | Jim Belmont and Miaco, who, upon learn the miner’s story of his past wrongs, congratulated him warmly. After they were all back in Miaco’s tent, enjoying a venison feast in commemoration of Miss Nora’s rescue, Squirrel Sam drew old Avalanche to one side. “This Hard Cheek, scout—is he not the notorious Deadwood Dick?” was the miner’s interrogation, “What? Hard Cheek my poor Deadwood Dickey, who got his head amputated? Guess not, Mr. Squar’l. I don’t reckon you're on the right track.” “Then who is Hard Cheek?” “Can’t tell ye, pard, fer it’s ag’in’ all ther princi- ples taught me in my category. So ax me no ques- tions and I'll tell ye no lies.’ And this was the sum total that could be squeezed from the old veteran of the Indian war-path. What he knew concerning the young sport of the mines, he was evidently determined to keep locked within his own breast. In the meantime, Hard Cheek, after having left. the party at the dam, had tramped back toward town, his head bowed as if he was in deepest thought. But no words on his part expressed these thoughts, whatever they were. On reaching that part of the shore street, where the business was mostly concentrated, he was about entering the Inter-Ocean, when he was tap on the shoulder by a small boy, and an unsealed note was slip d into his hand. ‘. <a be Mr. Hard Cheek, ain’t you?’’ the boy asked. “Yas, Ireckon so, Where did you get this?” the Trump Card demanded, in some curiosity. “Ch! a lady give me a three bits ter fetch it,” was the reply. “ What kind of a lady, boy?” ° “A red-headed lady, sir, as purty as a purty pic- “Ah!” Hard Cheek smiled at the boy’s earnest- i “Are you sure such a lady gave you this, ny , You bet I am,” was the response, after which the ad skurried away. Stepping inside the Inter-Ocean, Hard Cheek open- ed the missive, and hastily perused its contents, a smile in the meantime breaking out about his lips. It read: * FLoop Bar, May 6. “Mr. Harp Currxk—I have penetrated your dis- guises, and know you to be Deadwood Dick, my hus- nd. Cometo me at the edge of the woods beyond the bluffs, to-night, for I want to see you once more, IT am now at the head of Rael band, and your work of war against outlawry is steadily going on. Come, I beg, for I am eager to see you once more, on earth for we know not what moment one or the other o us may be stricken down. Come as soon as you get this. Lrone.” This was all, yet it seemed to have much weight with the young rt, for he gazed at it long and re men , oenahig and re-reading it. S + says she has penetrated my disguise,” he muttered, thrusting the note into his pocket and go- ing out into the open air. “I wonder how she came to guess my identity. I believed no one had any knowledge of my secret except Avalanche, and not he until to-night, though he may have been suspicious. I will go and meet her; God ever bless her.” He looked first to the condition of his weapons, then hastened to the only livery-stable in the town, and hired a horse, So that in ten minutes he was leaving the town behind him, and riding over the} ru bluffs to the eastward. grace in the saddle was that same old reckless ease of Deadwood Dick’s, even ape » gd was changed beyon ition by t mus- tache and hair, Bia t The moon was still throwing her ghostly flood of prs Rr ey oo Me the onsen ‘of approac the dee ark fo at_the 0 witich he to find his wife his Leone, whom he still loved as when first they wedded. “Poor girl!” he muttered, as his thoughts glanced back over the past, wate ‘thad been such a t of horror—‘“‘she has it hard enough, since she linked her fate with mine. Never have we been at rest, in peace and security, because of my reckless life and the bitter enemies I have made. Bunt thank God, my men now are fighting bravely for me
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‘to you— Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. — — ~ and in the defense of justice, and some day I hope to be Oe sath a free man.” ick, as he galloped fearl up to the - of the dark, frowning forest had little suspicion of foul lay. He had not a thought that he might have been saialoty His wife had called him—that was enough. But as he ae nened the designated spot, there was a whir, and a lasso settled and drew taut about his arms and waist, and he was a prisoner. The next instant, he was jerked bodily out of the saddle, and struck upon the ground with a force that momentarily stunned him. When he recovered he found himself securely bound, hand and foot, so tightly that it pained him to move a muscle, And, bending over him, with devilish triumph ex- ressed in their faces, were the two whom he knew be his inveterate enemies—Carlos Cambre and Edith Stone, ‘Ha! ha!” the ex-lieutenant laughed, demoniac- ally, ‘‘so we have got you, have we, Deadwood Dick —got you right ¥ ere we must needs use you. Do ou recognize us?” ve Yes, as two devils in buman shape, Sir Spaniard!” Hard Cheek replied, angrily. ‘You are h pos- sessed of such angelic purity, that I marvel I did not see through you ere I came.” “Hal ha! ’twas rather a clever ruse to entrap you, sure enough. We really didn’t expect you, for we gave you credit for more sense than to he- lieve you would willingly come and deliver yourself ht into our power.” eadwood Dick bit his lip in vexation, that he should have, indeed, been so easily du Could he have had a moment’s warning of er, he felt positive he could have avoided capture. “ And do you know what your capture means, Ned Harris?” ed Edith Stone, fiercely. “No, young woman, I have not the slightest idea of what it does mean,”’ was the reply. “Then, you vile wretch, know t at it means death hell on earth, while there is aught left of our body to burn at the stake. Look at me, man— o I look as if I would hesitate to torture you? Dol tremble, as though I had some obnoxious job before me? No! ‘twill be a panacea to a 4 aching heart to see you burn all up into-a crisp! It will be glorious satisfaction, to appease my appetite for vengeance on you. Oh! my hour of triumph has come, Dick— ‘come, as I swore it should. Youspurned the honest affection and broke the heart of one who worshiped you. Then I swore to have your life, and that of your accursed red-haired wife. She will follow you.” “Yes, Mr. Deadwood Dick, it is morally certain that you have got to die, and we have prepared for our death by burning you at the stake—Indian fash- on, you know!” Cambre put in, with a smile of tri- umph. ‘Suppose we won't have the divine pleasure of hearing you beg, eh?” ‘No, I don't think you will,” Hard Cheek replied with a chuckle. “I ain't one of the begging kind t guess you'll find, if you search back to find my i- poe Besides, death and I know each other too well fet na ry at our respective shadows!” “You do, eh? Well, you ipeshape have a chance to get better acquainted, then. ou acknowledge yourself to be Deadwood Dick?” “Yes, if you are any better pleased by the ac- knowledgment. I am willing you should call me Deadwood Dick, Buffalo Bill, or Texas Jack—any- a eee you.” th Stone and Cambre withdrew after a few mo- ments, and appeared to be holding an animated con- versation. He lay Ba mapontigts and watched them ~ rowly, wonde: ey y meant to ca nto execution their threat of burning him at the stake: He had little doubt now but that it was in their evil natures to do it, but whether they would or not was just then a problem he could not solve. Cambre he saw presently begin to gather leaves and dry twigs about the base of a young iron-wood sapling, which he concluded was to be his death- stake. And he had assurance of it when Edith Stone ap- proached and spoke. : ‘Deadwood Dick, I have come to give you one chance more for life. Wed me and take me East to live, and we will omit this burning-at-the-stake busi- hess, and ever live happily together. Which shall it will you accept me or, what you will find ten mes more unendurable—a horrible death?” * “ Death—a thousand times death, in preference to linking myself with you! Go ahead—you'll find I am not afraid to die!” Without a word the female fiend turned away and assisted Cambre to gather more leaves. _, When enough were collected, Deadwood Dick was lifted bodily and bound to the’ stake, so tightly that the blood could barely circulate through his veins. - Then oe tee agen’ inflammato y material were eape and, with a fiendish laugh . jos Cambre lit the fire in’several places. cr CHAPTER XVI. THE GOLD OF MARKEESA.—A SCENE ENDING IN A TRAGEDY, Ar about the same hour, something inte whe going.on in the Musquekang valley, at is hone of e Waltonbys. The night being warm and breath- less, the family were sitting upon the veranda of their handsome home, the two ladies engaged at some delicate needle-work, which the full light of the moon allowed them to execute, while Walton- by sat close at hand, smoking his brierwood pipe. was nervous, habitually, perbans, for he con- stantly glanced around him, as if he expected a blow from some unseen foe. “Hark! who is coming down the valley, for I hear the sound of hoof-strokes?’’ said Mrs. Waltonby, a little, matronly-looking woman, as she stopped in her work. ‘I wonder who can be abroad to-night.” “Tt is Deadwood Dick’s rosé agents, maybe!”’ suggested Ida,in alarm. ‘Papa said that they were somewhere in this part of the hil is.” . “No! *tis not the road-agents,” said Cyril Walton- by, gazing up the moonlit valley road, where four mounted pesos had just come into view. “There are but three men and a woman, and agents never venture out in such small numbers. It is possibly some wayfarers, who have set out for Deadwood in the cool of the grr The quartette of riders came on down the road at a dashing gallop, but halted and dismounted upon the lawn before the Waltonby mansion. Two of these night-riders were Flying Floyd, and Nolie Waltonby—the others merely a protective body-guard which the lieutenant had brought along. They remained in the back-ground, while, with Nolie upon his arm, dyke advanced to the veranda, and tip his hat to the ladies, after which he bowed coldly to the farmer. “Tf we mistake not, we stand before Cyril Walton- by, do we not?” the lieutenant asked, eying the farmer with an unflinching — *Yes—I am Cyril Waltonby, sir. Of what service can I be to you?” : “Of considerable, if you play a fair e, now, where heretofore you have played a dishonest one. Do you recotlect this youn ly, sir?”’ ae do not. I don’t t I ever saw her before, “Yes, you saw her when she was but a babe in her mother’s arms, for, Cyril Waltonby, she is Mar- keesa’s child, and your only legal daughter.” Had a bomb exploded then and there, no more as- tonishment could have been depicted, than at this ay declaration of the lieutenant. - child!” cried the farmer, leaping to his feet, in evident astonishment—“t my daug ter! Impossi- ble, sir; there is some mistake.” “There is no mistake, Cyril Waltonby—no mistake, at alll’? Nolie cried, stepping forward. ‘As Mr. Floyd has said, I am the daughter of old Markeesa, your only legitimately wedded wife. Do not try to so me, for ’tis useless. Even as your minion, Lark, let Markeesa escape, so did he, by lack of vigi- lant watchers, let me escape too, and I am here to claim my own, I have proofs—certificates of your first marriage, and of my birth.” “Papa! papa! is this true—can it be true that I am—” and Ida Waltonby burst into tears and bt in concert with her poor horrified mother, ‘Oh! yes, it must be even so, for the ruffian who called himself Red Lark, was here, and told me to tell you that ‘the cat’s leaped the gate and the dog has chased her into the woods, where she is hiding. Oh! papa! papa!’’ And. the poor young thing wept as if her heart would break. “Tt is all a lie—a damnable plot to ruin me and mine!” cried the farmer, furiously. ‘ Get you gone, you accursed impostors, or I will shoot you dead in your tracks.” “You will do nothing of the kind,” replied Flying a decisively. ‘‘My men y have you cov- ered, and it needs but a word from me to send you into eternity. I don’t want to harm you, however, unless Fe refuse to give this young lady her rights. Then I shall string you up to one of these trees, as you deserve hanging more than any one I know of.” “Curses on you!” Cyril Waltonby hissed, biting his os until they bled. ‘‘ What do you want?” “Tl tell you what I want,”’’ replied dusky Nolie, in her clear, ringing voice. ‘“‘I want the heavy sum of gold which you stole away from Markeesa, my mother—every cent of which was hers, individually. I want this. and then I will never again molest you, nor your family, here.” “*T have not the gold; I won’t give it to you?” ** Then you shall hang to yonder tree!”’ girl baa you wouldn’t your own father, r’ ” “As quickly as I would a horse-thief, when that father is such a wretch as you!’’ Nolie replied. ‘‘ You are a wretch, unworthy of any compassion—a tho- rough scoundrel and the associate of scoundrels. Why try to deceive me, who know you so well?” * But I haven't the money!” ** Where is it, then?” “Perhaps a rope around his neck might jostle his memory?’ suggested Floyd. “Bah! don’t think you cat¥ scare me!”’ exclaimed Waltonby, with asneer. “I am not to be frightened. Hang me, if you like, but you'll not find the hiding- place of the gold.” “No! we won’t hang you,” Floyd replied, tri- umphantly. ‘ We'll e you to a cave in the mountains, and starve the life out of you.” * Amd not get the gold, either!” “Well, we can try the plan, at least. Once and for all—will you yield?” “‘No! a thousand times, no!” the infuriated farmer cried. ‘‘It is buried where even the devil himself cannot find it!” “But a devil has found it!” cried a voice, shrill and high-pitched, and at the same moment a wild- eyed, haggard Indian woman emerged from the bushes that fringed the lawn, and stood revealed in the bright moonlight. ‘‘ Yes, Cyril Waltonby, a devil has found the gold, and here it is!”’ And, with a horrible, fiendish laugh, she held aloft the tin box in which was the treasure that had been buried under the roots of the big pine tree! A wild, grotesque squaw was this woman, with matted hair and tattered garb, and the fires of in- sanity burning in her eyes. And as he at her, CYvil Waltonby turned alternately li and white, while from his lips came the one word—‘“‘ Markee- sa!’’ “Yes, it is Markeesa!”’ replied the maniac wife— ‘“*Markeesa, who hates you worse than the red-man hates snakes. She saw you the other night, and a had not been gone an hour ere she had the gold. ere, my child, the gold is yours. ‘keesa has no further use for it, for she is going to meet her people in the happy hunting-grounds,”’ Hurling the box to the ground at Nolie’s feet, the frantic squaw quickly drew a pistol, and, before she could be prevented, sent a bullet c i through Cyril Waltonby’s brain. Then, pressing the m e to her own a she fired, and fell a corpse upon the greensward. Thus had Markeesa avenged her wrongs in death. CHAPTER XVII. A FEMININE DUEL—AND CONCLUSION, Asthe fire began to blaze up, brighter and brighter, and to grow hotter and hotter, Deadwood Dick realized that he was in a fix, in dead earnest—that nothing short of a miracle could save him. ‘““Come! you had better get to praying, ef you wanter afore you ascend in a cloud o’ smoke ter ther hot place above!” sarcastically suggested Cam- bre; ‘you're bound to fry and sizzle, and by an’ by you'll make delightful music fer us ter dance by!” “Willl? Bet a nugget my orchestra won’t diffuse a ange squawk!’’ Hard Cheek (Deadwood Dick) replied. R Humph! You'll change your tune, in the sweet by and by.” ‘* Will you marry me or die the horrible death that is staring you in the face?’ demanded Edith Stone, as she watched the crackling fire. “T would die fifty such deaths, rather than ney ou!” Dick replied, with a heroic firmness. ‘ Deat as no terrors to me, compared with a life with one like you.” o hen—”’ She did not finish the sentence, for at this moment the crack of a rifle broke the stillness, and Carlos emma 2 with a cry of mortal anguish, fell to the ground. “I’m killed! I’m killed!’ he groaned, as Edith Stone ran and knelt by his side. ‘‘Some one has shot me. Ha! there they come—look out!” With his last gasp of life, the dying villain pointed beyond the stake, where two riders were just dash- ing out of the timber—one Leone Harris, the wife of Deadwood Dick, and the other, a road-agent whom she had brought along for a ; As she saw them, Edith Stone uttered a fierce cry, and stood upright, with a revolver clenched in her hand. Leone was upon the spot in a moment, to confront her enemy, while Chasteau, the guard, quickly re- leased Hard Cheek from his bonds and tore him out of the fire. “Stand, you flend!” cried the wife of Deadwood Dick, hurling a long, narrow sword at the feet of Edith, and retaining a similar one in her own hand. ‘Pick up your sword and stand on your guard, for it shall be your life or mine!” “Yes, mine or yours!” ~— the desperate girl, seizing the hilt of the blade in her grasp. “We are bitter enemies, Leone Harris, and either you or I must die—and it will be you, for lam an expert swordswoman, trained by my father.” ‘And if I cannot master you, I am willing to die!" Leone replied, firmly. ‘You and I cannot live in the same country, and, if I kill you, 1am sure that God will forgive me, because Iam ridding the earth of a very wicked woman.” With blazing eyes, and lips compressed, and with swords firmly clenched, the two Diggs 4 they were re but girls—attacked each other with a ous ze Their play was quick and their strokes powerful, the of the tempered blades making echoes in the depths of the forest. It was a strange, exciting combat between two in- furiated women—weird in the extreme as viewed un- der the powerful rays of the mid-summer night’s moon. Deadwood Dick or Hard Cheek, and the guard, Chasteau, stood at one side and looked on without in- terference, for Dick reposed confidence in Leone's skill to at least save herself from dangerous injury. Parry and thrust and feint and lunge, but neither pope a point, until at last Leone got in a blow upon er adversary’s left arm. Edith followed with a blow at Leone’s neck, which was dexterously dodged and parried, and then came the culminating thrust, which ended the battle, and_ with a piercing scream, he fe back, with the blade run through heart ! “Dead!” pronounced Chasteau, coming forward, and bending over the stricker girl, “The man, here—her companion, is also dead. My rifle-bullet laid him out in style.’ “Dead?” echoed Leone—“ dead? Then some of the wrongs of Deadwood Dick are avenged, but I have yet to hunt down his murderers, before my mis- sion is fulfilled.” ‘*No need for that, my angel-on-e * said Hard me in his Cheek, stepping forward, and clas arms, ‘for Destwood Dick is here pins “What! You—you Dick—my Dick!” the wife ex- claimed, shrinking back, in astonishment. ‘ No! no! it ae te be)” “Tt is, nevertheless, I in flesh and bones,” was Dick’s laughing assurance. 3 “But, I thought you dead—that it was your head they had on exhibition in Flood Bar,” persisted Leone, between tears and laughs of joy. “I havé ees yor loss, oh! so bitterly, my dear, deaJ
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| ward the moo i4 Beadle’s HalfDime “ You darling, I do not doubt it, and I ought to be ashamed of myself for so long deceiving you and the public. The tead was one the sharpers had taken somewhere, because of its resemblance tome. Un- fortunately—for the men—I greatly resemble many Western men, and this leads to mistakes. You re- memtor how Gerald Hawk, your brother, suffered lynch-law because of this resemblance. This last case may have been similar. It struck me at the time of this head’s first appearance in Flood Bar, to let people believe me dead, and so I adopted the role of Hard Cheek, which enable me to be about among my fellow-men with more safety. I was searchin for you, until the report came that you were with my band. Since then I have been watching Hawk Harrington, and only to-night I sent his spirit flying to the master who owns it—the Devil. Thus, with his death and the death of Cambre and Edith Stone, erish, I believe, the worst of our personal foes. he public we still have as an enemy—” ** And I reckon enemies are after us now, captain!” spoke Chasteau, excitedly, pointing across the moon- lit bluffs, to where a horseman was approaching at furious speed. “Yes, something has gone wrong!”’ Dick replied, going to his horse which was standing near, but he quickly exclaimed: ‘By heaven! the man is Old Avalanche!” ‘*And what means his coming?’ demanded ee anxiously. ‘‘ How did he know that we were ere?’ “That we must leave to him to tell. Get to your horses, for it may be something so important that it will be necessary for us to light out, immediately.” They accordingly mounted, and ranged alongside, leaving the bodies of Cambre and Edith Stone lying where they had fallen, for there was no time to bury them now. Avalanche soon came furiously up, and jerked his high-spirited cayuse back upon its haunches. The animal was white with foam, and a wild steely glit- ter shone in the veteran’s eyes—a grim expression elongated his grotesque little countenance. “What is the matter?’ Deadwood Dick demanded, anxiously. ‘“ Why do you come in such haste?” * Matter?” gasped the Annihilator—“ haste? Great antiquated ham-bone that bucked ther larnyx uv old Joner’s godfather! Why, ain’t ye heerd ther news? I supposed ye’d slid off on account o’ it.” “IT do not understand you. You speak in riddles. What do you mean?” Dick replied, in greatest won- derment. ‘‘ Are you crazy or drunk?” “ Neither, Dickey, b’yee. But thar ain't no time fer superflewus palaver, as I uster tell old Florence Night-in-a-gale, when she’d git ter oratin’ ter a hull million or two of Injuns. Strike spurs and light fer yer stronghold, fer a thousan’ heeled outlaws callin’ ’emselves ‘Turks,’ aire after ye. They’ve consollydated, an’ got it inter their infarnal noddles thet ye be Hard Sheek, an’ Hard Cheek be you, wharfore they’ve rid inter Flood Bar—an’ thar the come, as sure’s thar uster be electricity in ther hoofs — uy old Prudence Cordeliar, my mare. As he ceased be Spat the old scout pointed out to- it bluffs, beyond which nestled the infant city of Flood Bar—but a good, healthy infant, after all, was the lively little mining strike. A band of perhaps a hundred horsemen were just coming into view. Deadwood Dick watched them for a moment. All were rough, desperate-looking wretches of the blood and butcher-knife order, and in their lead was | Old Roxby, the Deadwood Regulator! They evidently had struck a fresh trail, for they were coming on at top speed, shouting and cursing, rendering the night hideous with their infernal cries. “ What d’ye opine, Dickey, my rosebud?"’ demand- ed Avalanche, watching the expression of the ex- | ' 1 | pass. | uv her beauty ’d make ye trot right alo gallop | forest aisles, which were lit by zig: roa-chief’s face, as its handsome outlines were re- vealed in the moonlight. “Well, I think it is high time for us to be getting - out!’ Dick replied, with one of his old-time reckless al ‘laughs. ‘‘Come! follow me! We can soon lose ourselves in this timber, and let the man-hunters Then we will away to my stronghold, which 'I fancy is pretty securely hidden froin ordinary | routes of travel.’ “Yas, we'll foller, you bet yer life,” the Annihila- tor replied. “Great ham-bone thet’ humiliated old | Joner! Never see’d a feller I'd ruther foller than | ye Dick, my Posey. Once knew’d a gal in Yankton, et ther power behind as docile as alamb. Her name war Mehetible Sv le- | swister, and she claimed to be a hundred and t owsomever, who war so ‘andsome Dick perceived that the Turks, as Avalanche had | called them, had evidently not discovered the where- ‘abouts of their prey; accordingly, he led the way into the timber, an d fearlessly down the streaks of moonlight, Leone and Chasteau following in single } file, an Avalanche bringing up the rear. : _ Being familiar with the “lay-out” of the timber, | Dick in a short time had safely eluded the Regu- lators, and then they all started for the village of \the road-agents. f On the way, Leone related all through which she |\had passed since the night of death down at Del Norte. When she had been left lying upon the river shore, with a y death staring her in the face, and old Avalanche did not return (as related in No. 49), she had rolled into the water and floated down- | stream, her clothing keeping her up. Later, she had been captured by Hawk Harrington, whose prisoner |'she had been ever since until the burning of the ‘Black Cabin upon the bar, when, bewildered and nearly demented with her long captivity, she had | fled into the mountains, and, later, found protection in Deadwood Dick’s own village. | | Dick ter Abraham Lincoln.” Arrived at Deadwood Dick’s village, they found all quiet and serene. Lieutenant Floyd had returned with Nolie Walton- by, from the visit to the Musquekang valley farm- house, where the dusky beauty had regained Mar- keesa’s stolen wealth. And it was but a natural consequence, that after all the perils and adventures they had passed through, Nolie should give her heart, hand and for- tune to the handsome lieutenant, who plead long and earnestly for a place in her affection. So there was a rousing wedding at Deadwood Dick’s village, and Miaco was brought over from Flood Bar with his old fiddle to furnish the music for dan- cing. Jim Belmont and Squirrel Sam and his sister were also present, and a joyous event was the cele- bration of the nuptials. There were girlsfrom the Bar, and ex-road-agents without number, and stoga boots and delicate pink slippers united in the Cotillion, the Lanciers, the good old Virginia Reel and the *‘ break down.” a is little mere to add to make this story com- plete. it turned out that the Turks were not after Dead- wood Dick at all, but in quest of a band of mountain horse-thieves. Sothat po more molestation has been offered the Trump Card of our narrative, in his se- cluded valley home, where he resides with his wife, and surrounded by men who have sworn to serve under his flag until the end. ‘ It was in one of Dick’s explanatory moods that he admitted the identity of himself with Elijah Swain, the Historian and Coroner. Truly, Deadwood Dick has in the past been a man of many faces and many a Floyd yet remains with Deadwood Dick, a stanch brother and lieutenant, and in his married existence may he find unalloyed happiness! Squirrel Sam and his sister, soon after the wed- ding, left for the Colorado mines. And not seldom do Dick and Leone, reunited in a happy home, receive visits from their warm old friend and advocate—Old Avalanche, the Annihilator. THE END. Beadle’s Dime Library. 1 A Harp Crown. By Philip 8. Warne.......... 10¢. 2 THe DARE-Devi. By Col. P. Ingraham...... 10c, 3 Kir Carson, JR. By Buckskin Sam.......... 10c. 4 THe KIDNAPPER. By Philip 8S. Warne ... ... 10c. 5 Tue Fire Frenps, By A. P. Morris, Jr...... « 10c. 6 WrupcatT Bos. By Edward L. Wheeler...... 10c. 7 DeatH-Norcu, THE Destroyer. Oll Coomes. 10c. 8 Tae Heap Less Horseman. By Mayne Reid... 10c. 9 Hanpy Anpy. By Samuel Lover........ .... 10c. 10 Vinocg, THE FRENCH PoLice Spy. 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|BEADLE’S | DIIME|LIBRARY. 82 Large Three-Column Pages, 1.A Hard Crowd: or, GrenTLEMAN Sam’s Sister. By Philip 8S. Warne. 2. The Dare-Devil: or, THe WiInceD Wires OF THE SzA. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 8. Kit Carson, Jr., Taz Crack SHOT ov THE West. By Buckskin Sam. 4. The Kidnapper: or, THe Great SHANGHAI OF THe NortHwest. By Philip 8S. Warne. 5. The Fire-Fiends: or, HERCULES, THE Huncupack. By A: P. Morris. 6. Wildcat Bob, Tue Boss Bruiser: oR, THe Borper BLoopHounps. By Edward L. Whee- ler, author of “‘ Deadwood Dick,” “* Double Daggers.” 7. Death-Notch, Tne Destroyer: on, Tue Sprrir LAKE AVENGERS. By Oll Coomes, 8. The Headless Horseman. A strange story of Texas. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 9. Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 10, Vidocq, THz French PoLice Spy. ) Writte.. by himself. 11. Midshipman Easy. ryat. 12, The Death-Shot: or, TRAcKED TO DeatH, By Capt. Mayne Reid. 13. Pathaway: 0k, Nick WuHIFFLEs, THE a TR4PPER OF THE NORTHWEST. By Dr. J. H. Rob- n, By Capt. Mar- 14. sha yendancges, THE Scourae ; or, Tam WAr-EAGLE OF THE MonAwss. By Ned Bunt- ine, auvhor of “The White Wizard.” 15. The Tiger-Slayer: or, EaG.Le- Heap To THe Rescvr. By Gustave Aimard. 16. The White Wizard: or, THz GREAT PROPHET OF THe SEMINOLES. By Ned Buntline. 17. Nightshade, Taz Rosser PRINCE oF HounsLow Hratu. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 18. The Sea Bandit: or, THe QuEEN or THE IstE. By Ned Buntline. 19. Red Cedar, Tur Prarrie OvTLaw. By Gustave Aimard, 20. The Bandit at Bay: or, THE Pr- RATES OF THE PrRarries. By Gustave Aimard, 21. The Trapper’s Daughter: 0 THE OvTLAW’s Fare By Gustave Simard. 4 22. Whitelaw: or, Natrtm OF THE LAKE | Snore. By Dr. J. H. Robinson, 23. The Red Warrior: oR, STELLA DrLorME’s CoMANCHE Lover. By Ned Buntline, 24. Prairie Flower. By Gustave Ai- mard, author of ‘‘ Tiger-Slayer,” etc. 25. The Gold-Guide: or, STerL Arm, THE ReGuLaToR. By Francis Johnson. 26. The Death-Track: or, THE Ovrt- LAWS OF THE MounTAIN. By Francis Johnson, 27. The Spotter-Detective: or, THE GIRLS or New York. By Albert W. Aiken. HANDY ANDY.—No. 9. KIT CARSON, JR.—No. 3. i 28. Three-Fingered Jack, Tur Roap- AGENT OF THE Rockies; oR, THE Boy Miner or Harp | Luck. By Joseph E, Badger, Jr. 29. Tiger Dick, Tux Faro Kine; or, Tue Casurer’s Crime. By Philip 8. Warne, author | of “A Hard Crowd,” etc. 30. Gospel George; or, Fmry FRep, | Tae Ovruaw. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. | 31. The New York ‘Sharp;’ or, THE FiasH or Licurnine. By Albert W. Aiken, 32. B’hoys of Yale; or, Toe Scrapzs | or A Harp Set oF CoLLeaians. By John D. Vose. me Overland Kit. By Albert W. | | en. | $4. Rocky Mountain Rob. By Al- bert W. Aiken. 35. Kentuck, the Sport. By Albert | W. Aiken, 36. Injun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. 37. Hirl, the Hunchback; or, Tux. SWORDMAKER OF THE SANTEE. By Dr. J.H. Robinson. | 38. Velvet Hand; or, THe [Ron Grrr oF | Invun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. 39. The Russian Spy: or, Tur Brotu- ERS OF THE STARRY Cross. By erick Whittaker. 40. The Long. Haired ‘Pards;’ or, Tue TARTARS OF THE 8s. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 41. Gold Dan: or, Tur Wuitr SavacE or THE Great Saur Lake. By Albert W. Aiken. | 42. The California Detective: or, | Tue WircHes oF New York. By Albert W. Aiken. | _ 43. Dakota Dan, THe RECKLESS RANGER; or, THE Ber-Hunrers Excursion. By Oll Coomes, 44, Old Dan Rackback, THe Great EXTARMINATOR; Or, THE TRIANGLE’s Last TRAIL. | By Oli Coomes. _ 465, Old Bull’s Eye, Tue Licutyine Sor oF THE Puarns. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr., 46. Bowie-Knife Ben, Tur LitTLE Hunter of THE Nor’-west. By Oll Coomes. 47. Pacific Pete, Tur Prince or THE Revotver. By Jos. E. Badger. | 48. Idaho Tom, THE Youne OvtLaw | | or SILVERLAND. By Oll Coomes, 49. The Wolf Demon, or, THE QUEEN OF | | woe KANAWHA. By Albert W. Aiken. ) | 60. Jack Rabbit, THe Pram Sport; | | or, THE CHILDREN OF THE LiaNo Estacapo. By Jos. | | ‘B.'Badger, Jr. | | 61. Red Rob, Tae Boy Roap-AGENT. | | By Oll Coomes. | 52. Death Trailer, Tux Curr oF | Scouts; or, Life and Love in a Frontier Fort. By | | Hon. Wm. F. Cody, (Buffalo Bill.) | 53. Silver Sam: or, THE MysTERY oF Deadwoop City, By Col. Delle Sara. 54. Always on Hand; or, Taz Sportive Sport of THE Foor Hiizs. By Phillip 8. Warne, author of ‘‘A Hard Crowd,” “‘ Patent Leather Joe’ Each Number Compkte,. Price 10 cts. 55. The Scalp Hunters. A Romance or THE PLamns. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 56. The Indian Mazeppa; or, THE Map Man or THE Puarns.” By Albert W. Aiken. 57. The Silent Hunter ; or, THE ScowL Hau. Mystery. By Percy B. St. John. 58. Silver Knife: or, WICKLIFFE, THE Rocky MountarIn Rancer. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 59. The Man From Texas; or, THE OvUTLAW OF ARKANSAS. By Albert W. Aiken. 60. Wide Awake; or, THE IpioT oF THE Buack Hitts. By Frank Dumont. 61. Captain Seawaif, THE PRIVATEER. By Ned Buntline. 62. Loyal Heart; or, THz TRAPPERS oF ArKaANSsAS. By Gustave Aimard. 63. The Winged Whale. By Albert W. Aiken. 64. Double: Sight, the Death Shot. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 65. The Red Rajah: or, THz Scourcp OF THE INDIES. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 66. The Specter Barque. A TALE oF THE Paciric. By Captain Mayne Reid. 67. The Boy Jockey: or, Honesty VERSUS CROOKEDNESS. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 68. The Fighti Trapper: or, Kir CARSON TO THE RESCUE. y Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 69. The Irish Captain: A TaLEe or | Fonrenoy. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 70. Hydrabad, THE STRANGLER; or, ALETHE, THE CHILD OF THE CorD. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 71. Captain Cool-Blade, or, THz Man- SHARK OF THE Mississippi. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 72. The Phantom Hand. A Srory or New York HeartTHs AND Homes. By Albert W. | Aiken. 73. The Knight of the Red Cross; or, THe Magician or Granapa. A Tale of the Al- hambra. By Dr. J. H. Robinson, 74. Captain of the Rifles. A Romance oF THE Mexican Vauiey. By Captain Mayne Reid. 75. Gentleman George, or, PARLOR, Prison, STaGE AND SrreET. By Albert W. Aiken. 76. The Queen’s Musketeer, or, | THISBE, THE PRINCESS PaLmisT. By George Albony. Ready September 10th. 77. The Fresh of Frisco, or, THE HEIRESS OF BUENAVENTURA. By Albert W. Aiken. Ready September 24th. A new issue every week. Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of twelve cents each, BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. MIDSHIPMAN EASY.—No. 11.
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a Complete 1 Deadwood Dick, THe PRINCE OF THE Roap, By Edward L. Wheeler. Yellowstone Jack; or, THz TRAPPER oF THE ENCHANTED Grounn. By J. E. Badger, Jr. 3 Kansas King; or, Tae Rep Ricatr Hanp. By Buffalo Bil’ (Hon, Wm. F, Cody). The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 5 Vagabond Joe; THE YounG WANDER- InG Jew. By Oll’ Coomes. § Bill Biddon, Trapper: oh or, Lirz IN THe NoRTHWEST, By The Fl Outcast. or, ee Yankee ; or, THE ey le y Col. Prentiss Ingraham. +o] Seth Jones; or, THz CAPTIVES OF THE Frontier. By Edward 8. Ellis, 9 The Adventures of Baron Mun- chausen. 1 Nat Todd; or, THz Fate oF THE Sioux Captive. By Edward 8, Ellis. 1 1 The Two Detectives; or, THE FortTunss oF A Bowmry Grau. A.W. Aiken. 1 Gulliver's Travels. A Voyage to Lilliput, and a Voyage to Brobdingnag. 13 The Dumb Spy. By Oll Coomes, author of “ Vagabond Joe,” etc. 1 4. Aladdin; THe WONDERFUL Lamp. 1 The Sea-Cat; or, Tae WitcH or Darien. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 16 Robinson Crusoe. His Life and Surprising Adventures, (27 illustrations.) 1 qT Ralph Roy, The Boy Bucca- pie’ neer. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 1 & Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy- ages. From the Arabian Nights. 19 The Phantom Spy; or, THE PILoT OF THE PRAIRIE. uffalo Bill. 20 The Double Daggers; or, Drap- woop Dick’s Deriance. By E. L. Wheeler, 21 Frontier Angel. A Romance of Kentucky Rangers’ Life. By E. 8. Ellis. 2923 The Sea Serpent: or, THE Boy Roprinson Crusox. By Col, Juan Lewis, 23 Nick o’ the ree | or, — Boy Spy or 76. By T 24. Diamond Dirk: or, THE seleniat oF THE YELLOWSTONE. By Col. Ingraham 2 5 The Boy Captain: or, THE Prrate’s DaveutTer, By Roger Starbuck. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Demon. By Edward L. Wheeler. 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. By Oll Coome.s 28 Buffalo Ben; or, Deapwoop Dick in Disauisxr. By Edward L. Wheeler. 29 The Dumb P. 3 oR, THE Doar’s DaventTerR. By pt, F. Whittaker. Roaring Ralph Rockwood, Tu: 30 So kina. By Harry St. George. é 3 Keen-Knife, Tot PRINCE OF THE i Prarizs. By Oll Coomes, 32 Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian: or, Taz Girt Deap-Suor. E. L. Wheeler. I 33 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, THz Li Rep Prrares or THE Cartesees, 8.W. Pierce. 34 Oregon Sol; or, Nyx WHIFFLES’ Boy Spy. By Capt. ] F, OC. Adams. 3 5 Wild Ivan, Tue Boy CLaupE DuvAL; By Edward L. Wheeler. 36 The Boy Clown; or, THE Eva OF THe ARENA. By Frank S 37 The Hidden NEES: or, THE LitTLe Howrer or THE ADIRONDACKS, Harbaugh. 38 Ned V Wylde, Tue Boy Scour. By Eee re oh none Every ome of them ‘** Live” Stories BEADLE’S HALF-DIME LIBRARY. by *“* Live® Anthors, Novel, at the extraordinary price of a HALF-DIME, By | 39 Death-Face, the Detective. Edward L. Wheeler. 40 Roving Ben. A story of a Young American. By John J. Marshall. Al Lasso Jack, THE Youne MusTANG- ER. By Oll Coomes. 42 The Phantom Miner: or, Drap- woop Dick’s Bonanza. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 43 Dick ek the Pony Express Rider. apt. F. Whittaker. 44. Rattlin be: or, THe Nicxr- HAWES OF ste By Harry St. George. 4 5 Old Avalanche, the Great An- nihilator. By Edward L. Wheeler. 46 Glass Eye, the Great Shot of the West. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. Nightingale Nat: ox, THe Forzst A7 ighting By T. C. Harbaugh. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 49 Omaha Oll; or, Drapwoop Dick Iv Dancer. By Edward L. Wheeler. 50 Burt Bunker, Tr Traprer. A Tale of the Northwest. By C. E. Lasalle. 5 The Boy Rifles, or, THz Unvzr- Grounp Camp, By Archie C. Iron, 5 The White Buffalo. A Tale of Strange Adventure. Charles E. Lasalle. 53 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., THE Boy PHENTx; or, TEROUGH TO THE DEATH. E. L. Wheeler, 5 4 Ned Hazel, THe Boy TrapprR; or, THE PHANTOM Princess. By J. F. C. Adams. 5 5 Deadly-Eye, Tue Unknown Scovr; By Buffalo Bill. 56 Nick Whiffles’ Pet, or, IN THE Vatiry or DeatH. Capt. J. Fr. C, Adams. 57 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, Tae Parps or FLoop Bar, E. L. Wheeler. 58 The Border King; or, TH Szcret For. By Oll Coomes. 59 Old Hickory, or, Panpy ELtis’s Scaup. By Harry St. George. 60 The White Indian; or, Taz Scout OF THE YELLOWSTONE. ’ By J. F. C. Adams. 61 Buckhorn Bill, or, Taz Rep Riritz Tram. By Edward L. Wheeler. 62 The Shadow Ship, or, THz Rrvau LizuTenants. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 63 The Red Heotherhood, or, THE TweLve Avencrrs. By W. J. Hamilton. 64 Dandy Jack, or, THE Cowie oF THE OREGON Tram By T. C. Harbaugh. 6 5 Hurricane Bill, or, Mustane Sam AND HIS “‘Parp.”’ By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 66 Single Hand. or, A Lirz ror 4 Lirz. By W. J. Hamilton. 67 Patent-Leather Joe: or, OLD Rart- TLESNAKE, THE CHARMER. By P.S.Warne. 68 The Border Robin Hood; or, Tor Prarriz Rover. By Buffalo Bill. 69 Gold Rifle: or, THz Boy Detective oF THE Buack Rancu, By E. L. Wheeler. 70 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, THE GREEN- HORN IN THE Woops. By J. F.C, Adams. y : 1 Delaware Dick; THz YounG Ran- GER Spy. By Oll Coomes. 72 Mad Tom Western, Taz TEXAN RanGer. By W. J. Hamilton. 73 Deadwood Dick on Deck. By Edward L. Wheeler. qT 4. Hawk-eye Tox Youne TRAPPER RANGER, By ou Coomes. yf Duelist; or, THE CRUISE or Fry 4 kA WoL¥F. By Col. P. Ingraham. "6 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. By The Boy Albert W. Aiken. Each number vd Corduroy Charlie; or, THz Last Act or Drapwoop Diex. By EB. L. Wheeler. 18 Blue Dick; or, THz YeLLow Curr’s VENGEANCE, By Captain Mayne Reid. 79 Sol Ginger, THE Giant TRAPPER. By Albert W. Aiken. SO Rosebud Rob; or, Nuacer Nep, THE KNIGHT OF THE GuLOH. By E, L. Wheeler. 1 Lightning: Jo, THE TERROR OF THE RE. By Captain J. F. C. Adams &2 Kit Harefoot, THE Woop-Haws; or, Otp Powprr-Facs. By T. C, Harlaugh, Rollo, the Boy Ranger; or, THE 4. a fa the Girl Miner; or, Rosrsup By Heiress of THE GOLDEN Horn. Oll Coomes, B ON Hanp. By Edward L. Wheeler, fs 5 Buck Buckram: or, Brss, TH F'R- MALE TRAPPER. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. fe 5 Dandy Rock, THE-MAn-FROM-TEX- as. By G. Waldo Browne, 7 TheLand Pirates: or, THE LEAGUE or Devin’s Isuanp. By Capt. Mayne Reid, 8 Photograph Phil: or, Rosmsup Ro. PHARANCE. By Ed. L. Wheeler. &§9 Island Jim: or, THE PET oF THR Famity. By author of “Jack Harkaway.” 9 The Dread Rider: on, rHE TEXAN Duruist. By George W. Browne, 9 1 The Captain of the Club. B. Brcscheties Hemyng, (Jack Harkaway.) 9 Canada Chet; or, OLD ANAconr In Sittine Buiw’s Camp. By E, L.Wheel@ 9 3 The Boy Miners; = a ENCHANTF? Isuanp. By Edward §, Elli 94 Midnight Jack, Tux Sp aa ENT. By T. C, Harbaugh. Q 5 The Rival Rovers. By Lieutenant Col. Hazeltine, 96 Watch - Eye, THe Drtxcrivr. B; Edward L. Wheeler. 9 The Outlaw Brothers: or, Tnx CapTivE oF THE Harpxs, By J. J. Marshall. 98 Robin Hood, tHE OvuTLAWED EARL. By Prof. Stewart Gildersleeve. 9 The er of Taos. By George We ee rowne, 10 Deadwood Dick in Leadvi'le. By Edward L. Wheeler, 1 O 1 Jack Harkaway in New York. By Bracebridge Hemyng. 102 Dick Dead-Eye, Tur Boy Smvuc- GLER. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 103 The Lion of the Sea. By Col. Delle Sara. 104 Deadwood Dick’s Device. Edward L. Wheeler. 10 5 Old Rube, THE ope ag or, TRE Crow Captive. By Capt. H. Holmes. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide. By T. C. Harbaugh. 107 One-Eyed Sim; or, Tuz Anan: DONED Forest Home. By J, L. Bowen Daring Davy, Tur Youne Bra” 108 Krier. By Wyse St. George. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. Ready August 26tr 1 10 The Black Steed of the Prai ries. By James L. Bowen. Ready September 2 The Sea-Devil; or, THE MinsHip LEGACY. Col, P. Ingraham. ae Woady September 9th A new issue every week. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by a} Newadeslira. 3 five cents lane or aw _ mail on poe t of six cents each. & ADAMS, hers, 98 William Street, New York.