Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 602) (1889 02 05)
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= eit i et a a a at a et Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. SECOND EnxTICe SEM WN Ws (a tn! Copyright 188, by BEADLE AND ADAM&, February 5, 1889. mmm’ i \ . WOM NIM AE WH ~ O92 ASS mi ima . $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, ] No. 602. a Year. No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. Vol XXIV 5 Cents. , i Sa NN \\\ \ ‘‘* aM ON HIS TRAIL, AND HE CANNOT BE FAR AHEAD OF ME,” THE OLD MAN MUTTERED, LOOKING EARNESTLY THE FAINT TRAMs —$———— SY, A Romance of Detective Work on the Frontier, BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, AUTHOR OF ‘* KENT KINGDON THE CARD KING,* ‘* PAWNEE BILL,” ‘‘ THE BUCKSKIN ROVERS,” ‘* BUCK TAYLOR,” ETC., ETC,, ETC, CHAPTER I. AN UNSEEN FOE, A HORSEMAN was riding along a border trail in the Rocky Mountains, He was a man whose face indicated all that was resolute and daring, yet full of an expres- sion of nobility of soul. Well mounted, be was thoroughly armed, and his costume was just what was needed for a wik: life on the frontier. = a =
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re 2 ; The Vagabond of the Mines. Suddenly there came a sharp, ringing sound, which once heard can never be mistaken for aught else—the crack of a rifle, At the sound the horseman drew rein aad a revolver at the same instant, ; A moment more and he rode forward, asa cry came to his ears, anda scene met bis gaze that caused him to hasten forward to aid a bu- man being in dire danger and distress. A man bad fallen from his saddle by the road- | side, and was writhing in agony, while his horse was dashing along, riderless, up the trail. ‘Great God! why did you kill me, for I have Fovelved my death-wound? I never bh ou! Such was the wounded man’s cry as the horse- man rode up and sprung from his saddle. ** Tkill you? Why, what do you mean?” With a deep sigh the dying man asked: ** Are you a rich man?” ‘*T possess ample of this world’s goods.” “* Married?” A painful look, but the answer was firmly, | “No!” ‘“My name is Leonard Delorme, and as I said, [have defrauded many. There are cer- tain ones, whose names you will find among papers which I wil give you, wuom I wish to repay. The amounts are opposite each name, with the interest that bas accumulated to date, for I bad arranged all but afew days ago and | ' was upon my way to redeem the past when I | met m y death-wound. “* Among my papers you will finda map. It is a perfect one of a trail from Silver City toa mine which I discovered, and which has panned “ Did you not fire on»me from an ambush just | out a fortune. now?” ‘*On my honor, no /” ** And you have uot come to rob me?” ‘** My dear sir, Iam no assassin or robber, I heard a shot as I rode along the trail, and then your cry, so spurred to your aid. the shot, Heaven only knows,” ‘+ Find that trail, follow it and it will bring you to the mine. Then follow the directions on the map and you will discover a vast for- tune in gold. ‘That. fortune is to be distributed as my Who fired | directions indicate. Then there is aspecified sum to be distributed among poor miners, and an- ‘*True, the shot came from behind me, and | other amount to be given to certain charities, you rode up from in front of me. Now I look at your face I see that | wronged you. Forgive me!— But, quick! look about for my assassin, or he will kill you, too,” and the wounded man cast a burried and anxious glance about him. ‘* But you need my aid, and—” ‘*T have my death-wound, and yet may live for hours, so hunt down that assassin ere he kills you; then come back to me.” The stricken man was calm now, and the horseman threw himself upon his horse, and, with revolver in hand, rode at a gallop along | the trail in search of the secret foe. The victim laid low was a man with beard | and hair tinged with gray.. He was tall of | stature, wore buckskin clothing, much the worse se wear, and his boots and hat were full of oles. _ He looked like a person who had been a long time away from civilization, yet one who had been well reared and bad known a life of refine- ment and comfort in the past, whatever had been his motive for coming to the wilds of the frontier. He was armed, but, not having seen any foe, his weapons were still in his belt. The bullet had entered his side, and his livid face and hard-set teeth, with a moan now and then wrung from his lips by agony, showed how much he suffered. ys __ And he suffered both mentally and physically it seemed. In a short while the horseman came back, He had made a circuit of the spot, but could find no foe, _“ The clatter of pe horse’s hoofs frightened him away,” said the wounded man; “ but, I am glad you have come, for I have much to say to you before I die.” ‘*T hope it is not so bad as that.” " It is, for I have received my, death-wound.” Let me examine it, for I know a little about - surgery.” _** And I know much, for I am, or was, a phy- sician, and graduated in the best hospitals of Paris. The bullet has passed through my body, and I cannot live, so, as I have much to say to you before I die, I must talk now. ‘The truth is, I squandered a fortune left to me, and the fortunes left in my keeping that be- longed toothers. I have caused untold misery in the world, and my crimes caused me to fly to the border for safety. ‘ ‘**T know by your face that you are not such as Il am—that you are a man whom I can trust. ‘“*T was gifted, and could have made my mark _ in the world, had I not thrown myself away. < ‘* But I can only regret now, and try toatone, “Your name, please?” “Borden Branch, a wanderer for. leasure ; one who prefers life among the solitudes of na- ture, risking its dangers, rather than dwell among heartless humanity.” The answer was a strange one, uttered with bitterness of tone. It seemed to itnpress thedying man—for dying he was, and he said, earnestly: **T will trust you.” ra A CHAPTER II. ; A SECRET AND A SHOT, THAT the wounded man could not last very _ long was evident, for his face was becoming more and more death-like, and his breath was qaick and hard, | Borden Branch made him as comfortable as possible, and then sat down to hear his story. **T had marked out all that to do myself; but death comes to me and you are my instrument sent by Heaven, for I trust you implicitly, and thank you for your help to me.” ‘*T deserve no thanks for being honest toward a dying man,” was the reply. “There will be gold left—no mean sum—and that shall be my legacy to you, for it was to be mine when I had done my duty by others.” ‘*T do not need your gold,” ‘‘That may be: still it is yours; and more, you will be to much trouble to carry out my wishes, and it will take much time; therefore, dv not refuse the legacy.” ‘“ Very well.” ‘** Now, take from my pocket a leather wallet which you will find there.” The man obeyed, and withdrawing the wallet was requested to open it. Within it was a well-drawn map of a trail over some mountains far distant from the spot where the miner had met his death-wound. Then there was a list of names, with addresses, with certain amounts opposite to each, and an- other list of sums to devoted to various charities. All was perfectly plain as to his wishes, and at a glance, Borden Branch understood all that was to be done. ; “You understand?” ** Perfectly.” ‘“* And pledge yourself to carry out my wishes in full?” sé z do.” **T thank you. Now around my body is a belt of gold. Do not remove it at present, for the pain is_too great to bear any movement, Wait until Iam dead. Then find my horse, for I have some valuable things on him, with my weapons. Back at the mine you will find some eg 800 cached, ample to last for months, for not long ago laid in a large supply, and after- ward struck a rich vein of ore that panned out enough to let me at once start on the great work of making restitution for the past. ‘* Hark! there is the sound of hoofs,” The keen ears of the dying man had caught the sound, and Borden Branch brought his rifle | round for use, q ‘ Soon there came into view a riderless ho who neighed loudly as he saw the other anima. and the two men in the trail. **It is my borse. The faithful animal has re- turned to me.” Y The voice of the dying man was very weak, and Borden Branch saw that the end was near, He caught the horse and threw the lariat over the horn of his own saddle, for he knew that his faithful steed would stand, Then he returned to the dying man, to be — at the change a minute or two had made.. He was unable to speak, and, in a moment, with a groan of anguish, breathed his last. The body was then searched; a blanket taken from the dead man’s saddle was wrapped about the form, and with a hatchet and knife that hung at his saddle horn he set to work and dug a grave betweon two rocks, some distance off the trail. Into this the form was laid, at full length; then the traveler, with uncovered head repea a part of the burial service over the dead, and with gentle hands, filled in the grave. Poles were cut and placed between the rocks, to shield the grave from the wild animals, and ‘along the ridge. having completed his task, Borden Branch mounted his horse, and, with that of the dead man in lead, turned into the trail to continue on his way. As he did so a shot rung out from an ambush, and the man fell forward on his saddle-horn. CHAPTER III. E! THE VAGABOND TRAILER, see A man was following a trail on foot, and leading his horse. 4 ; q The man appeared to be in bard luck, for he ree | was decidedly run down in clothing, shoe-wear, bat and general make-up. Ne His face was haggard and pinched, as with +e suffering from hunger, and his horse was a sorry-~ PG looking beast. , Pie) a He carried an old-fashioned rifle, a revolver that had seen its best days, and a knife that most men would have thrown away. ; *T am on, his trail, and he cannot be far mat ahead of me,” the man muttered, looking ear- ex: nestly at the faint trail. ; a *¢ f must overtake him, for to do so is to win er), fortune, to fail is to die, for I cannot keep up RS 3 the struggle much longer. ey? | ‘““T have already gone through too much, ia more than most men would live under. “If be takes the right band trail at the | stream yonder, then I can head him off in the 0 mountains; but, if he goes to the left, I can oer only follow and strike bim in camp. ‘Pe ‘*T must not fail in either event, for life and Bi death to me are at the end of my trail.” : Doe So mused the man, and his face lighted l up with a malignant look, as be uttered the _ 4 words, ct There was revenge in his heart surely, against aE Yi the one he followed. 4 if Mounting his horse, he urged him on ata rapid gait, and it required considerable urging, - too Arriving at a stream, the one to which he had © referred, he quenched his thirst, and gave his horse a chance to do likewise, and to crop a few - mouthfuls of grass near by, while he on foot looked for the trail he had been following so per- sistently. At last his face lighted up with a look of triumph. The trail led to the right after crossing the tream, : **T can head him off at the mountains, yon- der,” he said, pointing toward a distant range, and, mounting his horse, he set forth at a pace which it was evident the animal would not be able to keep up very long. , + But the man did not spare his horse, and si went along over rough ways at the same rapid ne pace, ‘+ T will head him off, for the ground was yet wet where bis borse left the stream, showing that he was not far ahead of me. ihe ‘* T must get there.” So he urged his horse onward once more, __ and at last he reached the base of the moun- tains. But the animal could not ascend the steep ie, He was utterly worn out, and his pace was a slow walk, ; Lyte “IT care not, for his horse will do,” the man muttered, and dismounting, he turned his ti horse loose to wander where he willed. - Then on foot he began to ascend the steep _ trail, ee up the mountain, and which was — evidently a deer =~. He seemed to know the locality, for he wan- dered off from the trail at certain points.and — met it eo further up, thereby cutting off considerable distance. uae: At last he reached a well-defined trail leading ** He has not passed yet!” oF OTK Ae He almost shouted the words, and thea,as though fearful of having becn heard, hesbrunk back behind some rocks. 3 eRe * The ridge was a rugged one, with rocks here and there of vast size, a few large pines and clumps of small trees, Seeking a hiding-place, the man n to oe toga endeavor to calm bimself.as best he could. His hard ride across the plains, his rapid climb of the mountain, bad tired him out, ! AS then, too, his mission there to that lone spot was one to unnerve him. i Wey a. At last he became comparatively calm, * His eyes were fixed upon the trail ahead, and his rifle was par ary read Ae a For a long while he wi » an : maeay, vealed intensest an bhai Ha He had come there for a purpose, whichho
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was determined to carry out, and yet one from which he seemed to shrink, “It is hard, very hard, to take his life, and yet why should I shrink—why should I be mer- ciful to him? *‘ His life should be nothing to me, and with gold at my command, my act will sit lightly on my. conscience— Ah! he comes!” or an instant he seemed wholly unnerved, as a horseman appeared in sight. But, by a mighty effort of will power, he con- trolled his emotion, set his lips and brought his rifle to his shoulder, The barrel rested uponarock, and a bush which he bad cut and stood up before him, shield- ed him and the weapon from view, but gave him a perfect sight at the one whom he intended to kill from an ambush, to shoot down without one word of warning. ‘JT must kill him—must be sure he is dead, for I know his fatal aim, and to approach bim, even when he was dying, would be to meet my death. ‘¢T shall aim at his heart, and if my rifle fails me, then I fear my end will come,” He sighted his eye along the rifle barrel as he spoke, and, as the horseman was now within ten paces of him he fired. The bullet went true; though not to the heart of the victim, yet it brought bim from his sad- dle and his horse, in fright, turned and ran back down the trail he had come. The assassin stood trembling in the spot from whence he had fired. His eyes peered through the bush upon the writhing form of the man he bad shot, and he eovered his ears with his hands to shut out the groans of the wounded man, Then, as though not able to bear the sight jonger, he turned away, just as the clatter of hoofs was heard approaching in the opposite direction. Away he bounded like the guilty being he was, down the sloping ridge, and after arun of half a mile hid in a thicket of trees. With trembling hands he loaded his rifle, and panting and scared, crouched down to rest and to wait. Thus more than an hour went by, and at last he seemed to have nerved himself to know the worst, Cautiously he crept back toward the top of the ridge, and had nearly reached the spot where he had stood ‘and fired the fatal shot. He then stopped short, for, coming out of a anyon be beheld a horseman, and following, was a led animal, ‘* He has buried him, and he knows his secret, has his papers and all! Therefore he, too, must die, for no life must stand between me and tri- umph vow.” he Vagabond of the Mountains spoke in a woice firm and determined now, and he raised his, rifle to his shoulder without a tremor, and, with a touch of his finger, sent the bullet on its way. CHAPTER IV. FOILED. THE man whom the Vagabond Borderman ‘shot at was Borden Branch. The bullet had been well aimed; but the dis- tance was greater than the shot had been when fired upon Leonard Delorme; hence it had not buried itself in the brain of the second vic tim. Instead, the bullet had struck on the side of the head, with a force that would have pene- trated many a skull, or at least brought the wounded man from out his saddle. But, as we have seen, it caused Borden Branch to fall forward as though stunned, It might have been taat he was still con- scious, or that the heavy stirrups, deep saddle cand broad horn held him in his seat; but certain it is, that though his arms hung limp, he did not fall to the ground. His splendid- horse, alarmed by the shot sprung forward along the trail, and the anima of the dead man, held fast by his lariat havin a hitch around the horn of Borden Branch’s saddle, followed rapidly. To the dismay of the assassin, he saw his in- tended victim dash on out of sight. “*My God! is he dead me keeps his sad- die?’ he cried, in alarm. ‘*T must follow and see So saying, he followed rapidly along on foot. But a spur, around which the trail ran, soon showed bim the two horses far down in the val- J0f . The rider still kept his seat, and the Vagabond -eursed himself for } na ag ivan ‘To pursue was ‘impossible, on foot, and so he es —— ne) The Vagabond of the Mines. ou was forced to return to the scene of his intended double murder. He wished to know all about the dead man in his grave. He took up the pieces of logs, dug open the grave and dragged out the body. Eagerly he searched it, but only to find no- batty, and aloud he bitterly cursed his luck. ‘* That man has the papers and all,” he mut- tered, in fierce anger. Then he hastily re-buried the body, arranged the grave as it had been before be disturbed it, and started down the mountain-side to the val- ley where he had left his horse, The deserted animal had found cool water, a feast of juicy grass and the rest of a few hours had made him quite another horse. But it was now growing dark in the valley, though the mountain-tops were yet tinged with the last rays of the setting sun, so the Vagabond Borderman decided wisely to go into camp for the night. It was a desolate camp for him, too, though his horse fared well, as he himself had only a piece of dried buffalo-meat to-eat, with no coffee, and no edibles to tempt him to a hearty repast. Forced to return to the horse, which he had de- serted, never caring whether he ever saw him again, the Vagabond went into his desolate camp until daylight should again permit him to follow the trail, for he had by no means given it up. Oh no! to give up then was to perish, he felt, an.| to sacrifice the hard struggles and suffer- ings though which he had passed to gain a cer- tain end. He did not sleep well, for his heart was trou- bled at his deed, a deed that had thus far ac- complished nothing, How cruel fate had been to him to bring an- other man upon the scene, there in those wilds, at the very moment of his triumpb and thus thwart bim. ‘ A few minutes before and the work would be one. His victim was dead, that was certain, for he had dug him out of his grave, gazed into his dead face, though it had required all of his strength to do so, But another had gotten the. gold he knew, by some means, his victim had, and the papers which he had carried in his leather wallet. Who was that other he wondered? He knew not, yet he was his foe, because he tg those papers, and be must be tracked to the end, At last the man sunk into a feverish sleep, and when he awoke it was dawn. He arose, ate sparingly of his little food, mounted his horse, greatly refreshed by bis rest and feed, and pressed on upon the trail of the horseman, He crossed it at the spot where he had turned off the day before to ambush his foe. The trail was there, of the horse he_ had fol- lowed, and whose track he knew so well, and of the other horse of the stranger, and’ that hoof- mark too he had well-studied. That he had not killed the man was certain, for if so the horses would not have gone on by that point he well knew. g So he turned upon the trail and passed rapidly as he dared, for i wished not to push his horse too bard, ; He knew the country, and he knew the very spot for a. second ambuscade provided that the horseman continued on the trail he was then following. He could, when he discovered that such was the case, with his knowledge of the country, cut across and head his second victim off. At length the trail led him out ata heavily wooded valley to the plain, and he cursed aloud as he saw heavy storm-clouds gathering. Should rain fall it would ruin his hopes, and the trail would be destroyed. With bitter oaths he urged on his horse and tried to overtake the man before him before the storm should come. He was growing desperate at ill fortune and hopes deferred. n, on he rode, until his tired horse stagger- ed under him, and all to no purpose, for at length the rain began to pour down in torrents, the streams were flooded, and wet through, hungry and in despair he was driven to seek what shelter he could find in a canyon. There, like a wild beast he crouched among the rocks, for he bad no match tostarta fire with and his r “horse, the picture of woe, s near to keep him company in his wretchedness, When at last the storm swept by and he once more resumed his trailing, he found that he was foiled, for the trail was no longer visible. CHAPTER V. A MURDERER’S CONFESSION. SEVERAL years before the murder of Leonard Delorme in the wilds of the frontier, by a Vaga- bond Borderman, a man sat in a handsome house in an Eastern State looking over some official ap e was a man of fine presence and his brow was marked by intelligence and refinement. Suddenly the door of the library, for such was the room, opened and a young wan entered and said: ‘Governor, I have bere a package which was registered, and from a distant Western post- office in a Territory, and is addressed as strictly personal to you.” “Thank you, Mr. Voss, and what is it all about?” asked the governor indifferently. ** Of course, sir, I did not read it.” “ Ah! give it to me, and when I have finished with these papers I will look over it.” The secretary obeyed and the governor was again left alone. In a few minutes he laid down the documents and took up the registered eatin *“* Ah! I have seen that hand before. ‘*-Yes, and it is mailed at Salt Lake and bears as the name of the sender Jobn Smith. ‘‘ That name is too general; but where have I seen this writing before?” He broke open the package as he was speak- ing, ofc unfolded a few closely-written pages. ith them came a tin box, which was bound securely and sealed, and opening it the governor took out a pocketbook containing several checks, a safe key, a ring, a set of shirt-studs and sleeve- buttons, a watch and a chain. There were also in the box several letters, and upon them a blood-stain, With surprise the governor turned to the let- ter accompanying the box for an explanation. It was as follows: “ Sanur Lake Crry, Oct. 1, 18—. “ To His Eecellency, OLIVER SPRAGUE:— “ Srp :—It will doubtless surprise you to receive a letter from your old college chum. who, with you planned so many schemes for the future, “You have won fame, and to-day are honored among men, ‘*T was left a fortune and it was my ruin, for after squandering it Iruincd others whose fortunes had been intrusted to my care. “To save myself from prison I committed mur- der, and the crime I allowed to fall upon another, while I, with the money gained by my deed. fled to the far West, knowing tbat some day the truth would be known, * But with the sentence of another to life impris- onment I was forgotten, and no one ever suspected that I had been other than unfortunate in specula- tions, and so had swamped myself and others who had intrusted their all to my keeping. “But that man, sentenced for my crime, now lan- guishes in prison, and here, alone in the solitudes, with Nature to urge me on todo justice to one I have wronged so cruelly, I have determined to write to you, my old-time friend, and beg you to at once grant him pardon. “T send you herewith the articles I took from the murdered man, and which at the trial of the accus- ed could not be found, “T alone am guilty, and the one now in prison knew nothing of the deed, and circumstantial evi- dence alone sent him to the life punishment he now suffers. “T beg youto keep my secret, keep it for the sake of an old friendship, our boyhood days passed to- gether, for this act proves my reformation, and I will tell you that I have prespered here in these western wilds beyond my wildest hopes, and will in ood time restore to whom I defrauded every ollar taken from them. * As for myself, with murder upon my soul, I can only seek some other scene in which to pass my days until the end, and I will never place you in an awkward P ecge by returning to my native State, you may feel assured. “The man for whom I ask Yea pardon is Roy Rockford, and he is now in the State’s Prison over which you hold jurisdiction. “Even to him I beg you not to tell why you give rdon, other than to say that you are convinced of is innocence, while. to the family of the murdered man please forward the things herewith sent you, and confer a lasting favor. “T thus trust my confession, my secret, in your hands, and leave to you the carrying out of my earnest requests, which I feel, from what I know of your noble nature, are not made in vain. ‘Believe me, my dear friend of the past, with every good wish for your continued success prosperity, “Yours, still in friendship, ‘‘ LEONARD DELORME.” The Y gttet nv was amply coved by this let- ° ter, and his fine face show ““Poor Leonard,” be mused aloud. “We were poor boys together in thoge old school days, and I heard how he had inherited a fortune, and then had lostall in mistaken specu- ee ee ee
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lations; but I had not believed him a murderer, no, no, not that, nor did I ever believe he had intentionally defrauded any one. “But I will act upon his request and pardon this poor fellow whom his act bas made to suf- er. “‘T could not refuse if my duty directed other- wise, for I have not forgotten that I owe to mard Delorme my life, when he sprung in and saved meat the risk of death to himself, that day in the foaming torrent that ran through the mountains near our school. **T will act at once.” The governor touched a bell, and from an inner room his secretary appeared. ‘*Mr. Voss, I wish you tu get ready to catch the first train that will take you to the State’s Prison, and Iwill have ready for you a pardon for a poor fellow there, whom I have reason to know has been unjustly seutenced. The secretary looked surprised, but the gov- ernor said nv more, and the next day Roy Rockford found himself, to bis great amaze- ment, a free man. The governor had granted the appeal of his boyhood’s friend, Leonard Delorme, and the risoner, who had given up all hope of ever see- ing the outside world, once more found himself free to return to his home and the one who lovec him better than life. CHAPTER VI. A DREAM AND A VOW, IN a pretty little cottage on the outskirts of a New England town, a woman lay upon a bed of k death, Her face was marked with lines left by more than physical suffering, and her hair had whit- ened under sorrow rather than age, for she was scarcely more than middle age, The surroundings were plain but comfortable, and upon the wall of the sick-room hung a por- trait upon which the eyes of the dying woman were fixed with a strange look. By the side of the invalid stood a negress, slowiy fanning her and nodding at the same time, as though worn out with many vigils. A cough from the invalid caused the negress to start and her gaze fell upon a form outsiae of » the window. She gave astart that caused the dying woman to turn toward her. But the negress was perfectly calm now, and, » ‘with an excuse, left the room, She went out of the front door and there met * face to face one whose presence seemed to excite her greatly. ‘Ob, Lordy! Mars’ Roy! has’ you escaped, sah! but hain’t you afeerd they’ll find yer?” The negress grasped the hand of the man in both her own and wrung it hard. “No, Sophy, I have not escaped; but Gov- ernor Sprague has pardoned me, from some cause doubtless convinced of my innocence, ‘*But about my poor mother, Sophy?” ‘* She is alive, ; but not much more, and I ane break it gently to her that you are ere, “Til! is she ill?” gasped the son. ‘*- Yes, Mars’ Roy, it’s her last illness.” ** But what ails her, Sophy?” **A broken heart, sah. Isaysit is, for you, — Roy; but the doctor’s got another name or it, ‘*T knows best, though.” “*T believe you do; but my poor, poor mother! “Tell her softly, as best you can, that the governor has pardoned me—pardoned me for a crime I never committed, and that I am here to make her well again.” The negress returned to the sick-room, and as ently as she could, told of the return home of oy kford, with a pardon from the gov- ernor. “T have newr believed him guilty, Sophy, and God bless that noble man who has set him “Tell him to come, for I have not much longer to be with my poor boy.” e negress called the son into the room and then glided out, leaving him alone with his ) dying mother. “It did not take Roy Rockford long to discover that the end was near; thet even his return ae could not call back the spirit so near its That night Roy Rockford kept vigil by his another’s side while old Sophy slept. , The doctor, in calling at sunset, had said that Mrs. Rockford could scarcely live another day. ‘The son sat by her side, grasping her band, ‘while she slept, The Vagabond of the Mines. ——oooooooeeOeeeeee"eleeell————EES EE EOS Suddenly she awoke with a start, and her eyes fell upon her son. * Ah, my boy, | have had such a dream!” She spoke with a voice that was strangely strong, in comparison with her weak tones the past few weeks. ‘*T hope that it was a good dream, mother.” ‘“*T will tell it to you, for it seems strange that I should have such a dream to-night, just as I am on the very eve of death, ‘*Roy, my son, 1 saw in my dream the mur- der of old Mr. Caradine, and I beheld his mur- derer face to face, and he is one whom you have ever regarded as your friend. *T saw him kill him, rob him and then fly, and you came upon the scene after the deed was done, and was deemed guilty of the murder be cause your father owed Carl Caradine money that he intended to take our home to pay for. **Oh, my son, can I, in my dying hour, have been given the power to behold the real mur- derer?” The voice of the dying woman was still strong, rs she seemed to have gotten a new lease of ife. ‘* Mother, who was this murderer that you rai’ in your dream?” hoarsely asked Roy Rock- ord, ** Leonard Delorme !” ‘* No! no! not Leonard Delorme?” “Yes, I saw bim face to face. ‘* He murdered Carl Caradine and left you to suffer for his crime.” The man sprung to bis feet and a bitter oath broke from his lips, for the words of his mother now opened his eyes to much that had seemed strange and unfathomable to bim before. ‘* By heaven! but Leonard Delorme is the guilty one, as I can see now, and his flight to the far West proves as much, ‘** Yes, 1 see it all now, he did the deed, and to save himself from the gallows, I was made the victim on the circumstantial evidence brought against me. ** Mother, I believe—” He stopped suddenly, for be knew that he gazed down into the face of the dead, ‘* Dead! yes, my mother is dead, but with her last breath she told me who was my bitterest foe, and there seems a strange fatality in its coming before her in a dream that Leonard De- lorme was the murderer of Carl Caradine. ‘tT will keep the secret I have discovered; but I vow, by the Heavens above, I will track that man to the uttermost part of the earth, and bring judgment upon him for this double crime of murder, and an endeavor to let me die on the gallows to shield his own neck,” He dropped upon his knees as he spoke, and bowed his head until it rested upon the breast of the dead, There Sophy found bim in his grief an hour afterward, and the day after Mrs, Rockford was laid to rest in ber grave, the place was sold, old Sophy cared for, and Roy Rockford, with all his wordly wealth in his pocket, and that not very mugh, started upon the track of Leonard Delorme, CHAPTER VII. THE VAGABOND OF THE MINES. SomE two months prior to the shooting of Leonard Delorme from an anibush, a group of men were gathered about a mining-camp, after the evening meal, engaged in smoking and chat- ting. They were a rough-looking crowd, to judge from their appearances, though there were kind- ly hearts beneath their woolen shirts, and most of them were toiling hard for gold to bear back with them to loved ones at home. In their midst was a man whose appearance indicated utter wretchedness. He was clad almost in rags, and his face wore the look of one who knew both mental and phy- sical suffering. His weapons, an old-fashioned rifle, revolver and knife, were in keeping with his clothes and appearance, e seemed to be hardly one of the group, and had nothing to say, while he did not join mn the laugh that now and then broke forth at some criticism uttered. He was wont to go and come at will through the camps, and never was known to work, or to dig au ounce of gold. He seemed ever to be preoccupied, and had won the name of the Vagabond of the Mines, He was further known as ‘‘ Rocks,” and the kind-hearted miners were wont to invite him to take a meal with them when they saw him about, for he never begged and they knew he would go without food rather than ask for it. He slept where night found him, and his horse, a sorry-looking beast, was his most intimate pard, but fared better than his mas- ter. ; Suddenly there came up to the camp-firea miner who was greeted by all warmly, for he seemed to be a general favorite. ‘* Did you strike it rich, Larry?” ‘‘ Find any dust,’ pard?”’ ‘* Heard of any new lay-outs, Larry? Such were some of the questions asked, and the one to whom they were addressed said with: vr a laugh: i ‘Dll talk, pards, soon as I has eat sutbin’.” This was a hint which resulted in a good sup- rel being set before the new-comer, and, after aving eaten heartily he said: ; ““T guesses, pards, as how we has about the richest mines in these parts, for in my month o” prospectin’ I haven't seen any leads that pan- ned out anything worth while, and the few other camps I visited are not so well off as we is, so it’s my opinion we had better stick to well enough, ‘ “But I struck alone miner away up in the oa cpa and passed a night in camp with im.” ‘* Where was he, Larry?’ asked one. “Up in the mountamms near Eagle’s Peak, and he was a queer one, for he was a gentleman im spite o’ all. ‘* He asked me to stop over with him, treated me prime, and said as how he had struck a lead that had about panned out all it would and he was about to break up and leave, for he had got enough to pay off some debts, and this done, he would go back to the States to live,” ** And he was all alone?” yen,” ‘* He’s a plucky one to stay there alone.” “You bet he is, and game clear through. “I took quite a fancy to him, and asked him to visit us; but he said he was preparing maps of where his gold was, and the names of those it was to be paid to, in case anything should rob to him, and then intended to start tor the East.” ‘* And where was his gold?” “That he wasn’t fool enough to tell, evem though he took me for honest.” ‘“There wasn’t no more gold in his neighbor- hood, Larry?” 3 ‘He said there wasn’t, and I couldn’t catch on to any sign, though I looked.” ‘“What was his name, pard?” an old miner asked, “T didn’t ask him; but in looking at a fine rifle he had 1 seen the name on it of Leonard Delorme.” A cry broke from the lips of the Vagabond of the Mines, and he fell forward upon his face. ‘““Ther poor feller bas got a fit,” said one, and several sprung to his aid. But he recovered 5 pie Tose, and without: a word stalked away in the darkness, Ten minutes after he had mounted his horse and ridden out of camp. But he did not go far, as he went into *camp alongside of the trail. Witb the first break of dawn he was awake and examining the trail closely. “This is the track of Miner Larry’s horse,” he muttered, as his eyes fell upon some hoof- marks, evidently made the night before. Then be mounted bis horse and started off on the trail he had discovered, and which led into the mining-camp. The trail was well defined and he had little — trouble in following it, and it was severa) hours. before he balted to cook a bird he bad shot, and this seemed to he his only food. ‘ a “Up near Eagle’s Peak be said that the strange miner was located. “T know the place, and I will find the man, for he is tue one whom I seek, ** Yes, find him I must,and with what knowl- edge I bave, for 1 dare not ask Miner Larry anything. : “No, no. andI nearly betrayed myself when | he spoke his name, but made them believe I had a fit. ‘Fortunately not one of them suspects, “ Oh, no, [am only poor Rocks, the Vagabond of the Mines, “But, though half-starved, I am too proud to teg, and yet upon this trip with little. ammuuition, hardly any food and with these old weapons, “But Ihave not followed his trail so long, — through bunger, suffering, hardships and dan- gers untold, not toatlasttriumpb. =~ “No, I must triumph in the end,” and with this resolve he mounted his horse and started. upon the trail of the mysterious miner. hs ~ “ — a a eet set capes
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on apes > ~ OP Reseeperts x a) | “oni ee wee 5 ee ae: Aer che had seen the In _ and put bis own horse into the shafts, and | The Vagabond of the Mines. CHAPTER VIII. THE MINER’S LECACY. Ir was the guilty conscience of Leonard De- lorme which bad caused him to fly to the West, after the murder of old Mr. Caradine, for the circumstantial evidence against Roy Rockford being the murderer was so convincing that no one had suspected any one else. agg | run through the fortune he had inher- ited, and money intrusted to him by others, after the murder, to try and redeem himse.f, he had taken flight,though noné had suspected him of going for other reasons than because he had been, as he had stated, unfortunate in his specu- lations. He had gathered together what money he could, and having in his palmy days, hunted upon the plains, bad decided to g West. lis experience in hunting on the border had taught him considerable, and equipping himself thoroughly with a couple of horses and an outfit, he had roamed from mine to mine, hoping to strike it rich. It was upon one of these jaunts that he came upon a man lying by the trail one day, just as he ne looking for a camping-place for the night. he man at first appeared to be dead; but a groan came from his lips, and hastily dismount- ing, Delorme knelt by bis side. ‘ea@w that the man had been several times ‘wounded, and, as a brook was near, he bore him thither, unpacked his traps, and made him as comfortable as possible, For a long time be did not believe the wound- ed man would ever recover consciousness or ‘speak; but he staked out bis horses, built a fire, and prepared to make himself comfortable for _ the night. Glancing toward the stranger he had so well cared for, he suddenly saw his eyes fixed upon him. Instantly he ste to his side. ** They did not Pht‘ me” The words were barely audible as they fell from the lips of the wounded man. “Those men who sought to robme of my secret?” ** Ah! you were attacked by robbers then?” ‘* Yes; but, who are you?” ‘A man in search of gold,” was the laconic eply. — “A miner?” ‘ ek am willing to be one if I can find the gold ‘to dig. ‘‘ Did you save me from those men?” ‘“No, I found you lymg by the trail, as I at first believed, dead.” ** And cared for me?” ‘* As best I could.” ‘“T have my death-wound,” ‘*T hope not so bad as that, for already you are gaining strength,” ' “T fear it is but ery goer but, while I can, I wish to tell you that Iam a miner, and I have got a paying lead, and, because I would not tell those men where my dust was they shot me. “But I would have given up all rather than die, had I suspected they meant to carry out ‘their threats. ‘*When I refused, they fired upon meand I fell, as they supposed, dead, and, robbing me of my weapons and what gold I had, along with any horse, they left me. ** Now do you can to save my life and I -will make you my pard in my find.’ The man was by no means a rough border- man, He had the look of one who had been reared in refinement, though, heavily bearded, long- ‘haired and in coarse clotbing he now appeared ‘to beg an uncouth miner, except when he spoke, Pal will do all in my power for you, sir, as I did when I did not suppose you had a dollar; but 1 do riot ask toshare your fortune for my I hope to yet strike it rick my- share. “But don’t let me die if you can save me,” - Leonard Delorme was touched by the plead- ing tones and look of the man, and he set to work to examine the wounds of the miner. He did his best but could not tell how serious they were, and bad hopes that the man might -_Fecover. The next morning he fixed a travois, such as carry their wounded pe y COLE L See ae eee met A OE hs aM Seed Ae xa ene eh es ‘ Me wits ) ™ ' a EE — - the way under the miner’s directions toward the latter’s camp. The trail was fortunately not a rough one, and the wounded man rode easily, and toward noon they entered a canyon where the mine was located. The miner had a small, comfortable cabin there, and was soon at rest upon his bunk, while Leonard Delorme hustled about to make him comfortable, Thus the days passed by, the miner seeming to grow stronger at first; but, after awhile be- coming worse, until one night he died, after having told the man who had befriended him, that_he gave to him an equal share in the mine, and left to him a solemn duty to perform. Into the grave dug im the canyon, Delorme buried Caspar Maynell, as the miner called him- self, and “ee over him a stone on which he had chiseled his name, date of death and the two words: ‘“*My Parp.” Then it was that Leonard Delorme set to work to dig his own fortune, out of the miner’s legacy to him, and maybe it was remorse, perhaps a desire to do right, and again the solitude all about him, the dwelling in the midst of nature alone, that caused him to decide tv carry out the last wishes of Caspar Maynell to the letter. and also to repay the fortune he had squandere and do justice as far as lay in his power. When at last, after long months of tire he had set forth upon his mission of good intentions with a fortune in bis bands, he little dreamed that there was an avenger upon his trail, one whom he had wronged above all others—the man who had become known as the Vagabond of the Mines. But as tireless as a bloodhound Roy Rockford tracked him, hunted out his secret mine, from what he had beard from Larry the miner, and finding that he had arrived after the departure of his intended victim, had pursued him to the bitter end, and when dying, Leonard Delorme had to leave to another, Borden Branch, to carry out the wishes of Gaspar Maynell and his own. , CHAPTER IX. THE MINER’S HEIRESS. In a handsomely furnished room, of an ele- gant mansion on the Hudson River, a woman sat in an easy-chair, gazing out upon the grand scene presented to her view from the window, The face was lovely in the extreme, and sof- tened by some sorrow into a look of sadness that gave her the appearance of one whose tears were constantly welling up from the heart. She was neatly attired, and her dress fitted her graceful form to perfection, and certainly she was one to win admiration and respect from men and women alike, i Presently the door opened and in bounded a sunny-haired miss of fourteen, with a face of oer /beauty and a form as graceful asa ebe. ‘Pardon me, dear Miss Maynell, but in the year you have been my governess I never knew you to receive a letter before, so as this one came for you, I ran at ouce to your room with t. _*I hope that it brings good news, for at times you seem so sad,” and the pretty girl kissed the governess as she placed in ber hands a ern in a large envelope and addressed to the city. _, Papa brought it from the city, having seen it advertised,” added Allene St. Jobn, The hand of the governess trembled as she took the letter, and she seemed to try and speak, but the effort was a failure. / Allene St, John slipped out of the room. She seemed to feel that the governess wished to be alone, : A year before her father, a wealthy merchant, had answered an advertisement, as he wished a governess for his daughter, and only child, and a lady had called at his office in the city in answer to his letter. He was struck with her beauty and refinement of manver, as well as the sad expression that seemed indelibly stam upon her face, and engaged her without asking for a reference. She had simply said that ber name was Cara Maynell,.and that she was dependent upon her own exertions fora livelihood. A fine musician and French and German scholar, she also possessed a voice that caused Mr, St, John to wonder why she had not adopted the stage as a profession, for with her. beauty and talent as a singer she could have won her way rapidly to the front ranks. Mrs. St. John had been charmed with the governess, and Allene at once took a t fancy to her and they became devoted friends, Thus a year had , and in all that time the governess had not been known to receive a letter, Then the merchant saw one advertised for her, and carrying it home, gave it to Allene to deliver, The letter was postmarked at a Western frontier station, and was addressed to: ‘Miss CaRA MAYNELL, ** City Post-office “New York. “To be advertised for three months if uncalied for after ten days.” Miss Maynell gazed at the address in seem- ing wonder, and wher she at last found cour- age to open it her hands trembled, as though sbe shrunk from doing so. ‘* Who bas written to me, I wonder? “Tt is not my father’s writing, and I could not speak when Allene gave it to me, fearing it was news from him, or of him, coming to me as from the grave, for I cannot but mourn him as dead.” So she mused, while she opened the letter. It was dated in a far Western Territory and was as follows: ‘* MAYNFLL MINE, “*NovEMBER 10, 18—. * My object in addressing Miss Mayncll is to make known to her both sad ana good. tidings, for I am sorry to tell her of the death of one must dear to her, her father.” Here Cara Maynell gave a low moan, and her lips became set; but there was no burst of grief, no tears, and, after a moment to collect herself she read on: “‘T regret to tell her that her father, Caspar Ma: nell, as he gave his name to me, was shot down the mountains by desperadoes who sought to force from him a secret of where his mine was located, and where he had hidden the gold-dust he had dug therefrom. ‘They had killed him, as they believed, and left him for dead on the trail, where I, an hour after, found him “IT cared for him as best I could, and under his guidance, carried him to his lonely camp at his mine, and through his days and nights of suffering remained by his side until the end came. ‘From his lips I learned that he had left you to earn your fortune in the East, while he came West to the mines to endeavor to recuperate his fallen fortunes. ‘His mine was paying well, and on condition that I should give to you one-half that I dug from it, and be had laid by, he made me an equal partner in it with him. ‘“*T pledged myself to do so, and to communicate with you, as I now do; but as your address, which he said was among his pa’ was unable to find, I now write to New Yor ty, where he said you were dwelling, hoping this letter will reach you. “T buried your father in the canyon, near our cabin, and cut his name and date of death on a rock at the head of the grave. “T then went to work gold-digging, and beg to now inform you that I am ready to pay to you, when I hear from you, one-half the amount thus rar realized from the mine, and there are prospects that it will yet pan out much more for you. “When I have heard from you, I will forward to any bank you may designate, the amount that is your due, and which I may here state will be some- thing like ge A thousand dollars. bt ‘Rind dress me to care of postmaster at Golden City, and I will have him hold my letter for me, as I am some distance from the plece. * With deepest sympathy for you in your loss, and the hope of some day meeting one who is the daugh- ter of him who was A friend, I remain, “Sincerely yours, s NARD DELORM®," When Cara Maynell had finished this letter she bent her head in her hands and burst into tears, “M r. r father! as He Ramune me in his dying hour, and, by making me his heiress, endeavored to redeem the past. : si God knows I forgive him; how freely, the tears that well up from my heart show. ‘“ What a sad end was his, and how I wish I could have been with him in his last hours, ** But this noble man, Leonard Delorme, was bis friend, and he certainly bas proven honest toward me, for he need not have let me know that my father had left me a dollar. “ And I am to be rich once more? ‘*How strange it seems; but I like my home here, and hardly care to leave it, By: I will seek Mr, St. Jobn, and ask his ad- ce, ‘She dried her eyes, and ropeg » the library, placed her letter in the hands of the merchant, with the words: ‘“‘T have a letter here, Mr. St. John, that tells me of my father’s death. aa Papuie cote dir a
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+ Ai ye) etre ; fs. ~~ ee —— I al dk al ee ee ee ee ee ee 6 The Vagabond of the Mines, There wasia cloud between us, and I had not heard from him, or of him, for a long time. ** Please give me your advice, as to what is best to be done about this fortune he has left me, , The merchant read the letter, extended his sympathy to the daughter, and then said: *“i congratulate you, Miss Maynell, upon your good fortune, and would advise that you write at once to this miner, Leonard Delorme, and have him send you a draft for the amount.” oe letter was written, and mailed the next y: CHAPTER X. THE WOUNDED HORSEMAN, WHEN the avenger, now known as Rocks, the ' Vagabond of the Mines, fired the shot at the "horseman who had just buried Leonard De- } lorme, and was preparing to go upon his way, his bullet was well aimed. It struck just over the temple, and glancing _ on the skull, ran under the scalp until it cut its way out at the top. The blow stunned the horseman, who fell for- , ward upon his saddle, yet had consciousness ‘enough left to keep bis hold. The broad horn of the saddle, and the heavy stirrups aided him in keeping his seat, while his horse sped along the ridge trail, the animal of Leonard Delorme led by the lariat. Itwas along time before Borden Branch could collect his dazed senses, known, with here and there a few scattering mining-camps, and a semi-weekly coach to these -_ s, and no other civilization could be boast- of. There were bitter foes of the pale-faces ever on the alert to kill them, in roving bands of 1In- dians, and besides there were road-agents, a gang of mounted white robbers, ever ready to robe the miner of his hard-earned gold. Against such dangers he had to contend, he was well aware, while more, if the locality of the mine became known, there were scores of reckless, lawless miners, who would come and overrun the neighborhood in search of other leads, and perhaps encroach upon the one he was in search of. Leonard Delorme had evidently kept the ex- istence of his mine a secret from others, and it was best that he, Borden Branch, should do so too. So he went slowly, carefully and surely on bis way until certain marks, indicated on the map, told him that he was near the mine, The country had grown wilder as he went along, and not a trail otber than one made by wild beasts had met his eye on his last day of travel. As he came in sight of a canyon, turning off from a valley, he halted, ‘““There are the two trees, one on either side of the canyon, standing like sentinels, as the ae shows, so there is where I am to go,” 0 saying, he turned his horse into the can- The bullet bad made a bare miss from taking | yon, life, and the concussion was so severe that the After a ride of a mile, be found that it branch- , mind would nut rally until'the horse had borne his | ed off into a score of smaller canyons, or glens, rider several-miles along the trail. When at last, by a mighty struggle he man- aged to command his senses he drew rein ind looked about bim. He had not seen his foe, and so only knew how chose a call he had had by seeing bis breast and shoulder stained with blood. His whole head ached terribly; but there was an acute pain also over his temple. He put up his hand and felt the wound. Skilled in surgery he at once knew how the bullet had glanced on the skull, run under the scalp to the top of the head and there cut its bey 4 out, e felt both wounds, pressed his hand along the course of the bullet and found that the bone was not fractured. “Tt was bya hair’s breadth,” he muttered. He had been seated ia his saddle the while, his horses halted on the trail; but he now rode for- ward once more until he came to a brook, .Here he dismounted and bathed his wound well and bound it up carefully, placing upon it a cloth well saturated with arnica which he took from a case he carried in his saddle pocket, He then washed the stains off his hunting shirt and mounting, rode on his way once more. “Ttis certain that the one who killed poor Delorme shot me, ‘Tf so, he may now be on my trail, and I must be careful,” he mused, That night he camped away from the trail, and, as though skilled in prairie craft the next day doubled on his trail so as to get behind any ‘one who might be following him, As he was coustantly on the alert, the Vaga- bond of the Mines doubtless owed it to the storm ' that he was not killed by the horseman whose ‘ trail he had been pursuing until the rain had destroyed all traces of his tracks. That this was the case the horseman seem- ed to realize at once, for he went on his way | without seeming dread of further pursuit, _ _ It was his desire to at once seek the mine of ‘Leonard Delorme, to see if all there tallied with what he had been told by the dying man, and if there was the amount of gold-dust on hand to y the sums annexed to the names of tke dif- erent people written down upon the list. Having made this discovery, having convinced himself that the whole statement of Leonard rm aa was correct, he would know just what to do. So he went over the written directions of the dead man carefully, studied the map, and then set out for the mine. With the description of its surroundings, just where to start and the map, all betobe: bias, it was not the easy task many might have thought it to be, to find the mine there in that trackless . land of the West, But Borden Branch went about the work in- ' telligently, and he showed his skill as a plains- man and mountaineer. Whatever the motive that had brought him to the frontier, he certainly had posted himself in its dangers and just how to follow’a trail, ‘ He knew that the land was comparatively un- narrow, with high banks, heavily wooded, and wild luoking in the extreme. He again consulted his map. ‘** The fifth small canyon from the right,” he said aloud, and then he counted the fifth canyon and turned into it. Through this a stream ran, and several times had he to ford it before he came to the head, There he found the stream dashing down a narrow gorge, and upon one side of it, hidden among a dense growth of pines was a small ca- bin. Beyond the pines the land rose to a ridge, but it was not so steep but that the horse could climb it,and the trailer was glad to discover that there was plenty of grass on all sides. The cabin was locked, but the trailer bad the key, and opening the door, be was surprised to see how comfortable a home Leonard Delorme had made for himself there in those wilds, There was a bunk with ample bed-clothing, a table. chair, cupboard and broad fire-place, on the hearth of which were several cooking- utensils, A shelf contained a few dozen books, an ink- stand, paper and pens, with some surveyor’s in- struments, a clock that was still ticking away, and looking at a watch he drew from an inner pocket of his hunting-shirt, he discovered that 1f was very nearly rignt in the time, There was a rifle and otber weapons in brack- ets on the wall, a saddle and bridle and other things to indicate that more than one perscn had ovcupied the cabin, but at different times Bor- den Branch was sure, though the dying man had made no mention of having had a compan- ion, Having lighted a fire in the cabin and thrown the door ard one window open for air, he went out to look up a place to put bis horses, He soon found that Leonard Delorme had madea pasture for his horse jn one of the can- yons, and here he staked the two animals out after he had left their traps at the cabin. The map tol@ of acache where the solitary miner had kept bis proyisions, which he was wont to go after to the camps every two months, ang Borden Branch knew that he would have ample to eat along with the quantities of game with which the country abounded. Referring once more to his map he found that Leonard Delorme had picked his gold in places here and there, doing it when he could find a Jead and also found some in “ pockets” in the water-ways, An examination of the surroundings showed him that there was considerable of the yellow metal yet to be gotteu out of the canyon, while the hiding place of the miner’s pickings revealed the fact that he had laid in even more than the amount he had stated in bis notes and directions. With this discovery Borden Branch took a short run along the ridge, brought down some game and retracing his steps to the cabin set to work to prepare bis supper, for the shadows of night were infolding the canyon in gloom. ood was abundant, and with his horses cared for, a blazing fire on the hearth, and bay- ing had a good supper, he sat down to the en- joyment of bis pipe and to reverie, And bis reveries turned upon a grave near the cabin, and upon the inscription on a rock at its head, which showed that Leonard Delorme had not been alone in his possession of the mine. It was the grave of Caspar Maynell, CHAPTER XI, THE REWARD OF PATIENCE. THE Vagabond of the Mines was not one to give up a trail readily. He had followed that of the man who had so deeply wronged him too long and earnestly to yield at trifles. He knew nothing of Leonard Delorme’s letter to Governor Sprague, confessing his guilt, and appealing fora pardon for him, Roy Rickford. - He only knew that Leonard Delorme bad been his friend, and he had intrusted to him as such, not only what money he had of his own, but important secrets cf his employers; which bad enabled him to. gain from him, Carles Caradine, a considerable sum, and in the end take his life when discovered robbing him, as he felt no doubt had been the case, Upon him—Roy Rockford—bad Leonard De- lorme allowed tne charge of the murder to fall.” He had allowed him to he tried for bis life and be found guilty, with a recommendation to- mercy from the jury, which had saved him from the gallows, and thus hissentence bad been: for life. Not a suspicion had come to him of his friend’s: guilt, until the dream told him of his dying mother, Then many things had been recalled that told him the dream bad beena true one, had revealed: the true murderer. Then he learned how Leonard Delorme had left the neighborhood, going, no one knew where, and supposed to be aruined man finan-- cially. With the proceeds of thesale of his little house in his pocket, all he possessed on eartb,, Roy Rockford had set out upon bis work as @ detective, self-constituted. He had just visited the governor, to thank: him for his pardon, and try and learn from bim just what reason he bad had had for granting that pardon, : The governor was too astute a _ man to give: any inkling of the truth, and so Roy Rockford’ left disappointed, though he felt sure some out- ward pressure had been brought to bear upor the Executive to do what he did. Going then to the old house of Lecnard De- lorme, Roy Rockford had gathcred all the in-- formation possible regarding him, and felt as- sured that he had been the guilty one, which his mother’s dream had revealed him to be, Then be, by ingenious devices, found cut that Leonard Delorme bad gore West, and had last. been heard from in Salt Lake City. He had a large photegraph, a perfect likeness: of the man he sought, and he at once went to- Salt Lake City. There he found that bis man bad remained some little while, making occasional trips away” for a week or two, and at last he met a man who bad heen the guide of Leonard Delorme to» the gold mines, ; Roy Rockford was now on the right track,. and so he bought a horse, saddle, bridle, and arms, He, in fact, purchased a complete outfit for the trail, and, with the gaide under his pay for a month, he set out for the mines, He made his guide bis teacher, and he wes: quick to learn. The guide was a man thoroughly versed in alk _ prairie and mountain craft. He knew the habits of all wild animals: could read all “signs” that appeared on a trail; was: aware of the location of Indian villages, and where to expect them on a raid. He knew the trails haunted by road-agents,. and every mining-camp for many miles around. And more, he was willing to talk when he found so good a listener. J 4 In this way Roy Rockford discovered much that was of a vast deal of service to him in the future, ‘ t They reached the mining-camp, whither the guide had taken Leonard Delorme. But, after a short stay there, Roy Rockford found that his enemy had departed for another’ camp. He paid his guide and dismissed him, This left bim witk but a hundred dollars im money. From camp to camp he went, then to a fort,, we MES pera
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_ gpawing hunger. _ governess had written to Leonard Delorme, in _ who had gotten it and ‘Allene St. Jobn had taken the letter to her yi verness, who, seeing . 77 a _-of the Mines, - lorme had told her to address his letter, to make Sy Joes ot regarding her correspondent, a letter hy a before, too, the letter had been advertised, and t) $s eh _ Sought thé merchant in his librar : ane yourself in my affairs, I have brought The Vagabond of the Mines. coming up with him, His money gave out, economical as he was, 's in the track of his enem ver ; ; riting, i always in th of his enemy, yet never | observed, though in a different writing, it was Suzettom wie ante tetepoebice: mailed at the same camp ax the other, and di- rected to Mrs, instead of Miss,” said Mr. St. | At first he worked a little in the mines, to get | Jobn. money, but this was making slow progress, and he began to sell his outfit piece by piece. ‘“‘Pray open it, sir.” . . The merchant did so, and he gave a whistle as | His five horses went, then his saddle and_.| he beheld a draft. bridle were traded off, his repeating rifle was sold, and in its pla¢e he got an old-fashioned weapon. One revolver, then another went, and his fine bowie-knife followed. He replaced them all as best he could, but at last he had little left. He would not work, for he was too restless to do this; he had to be constantly on the hunt. He begged from no man, kept apart from bis fellow-beings, and, becoming at last an object of pity in his destitution and loneliness, was forced to accept aid from the miners in the way of food, for he would take nothing else. So passed the time away until Roy Rockford won the well-deserved name of the Vagabond It was while in a camp, seated apart, silent, friendless, but watchful, he had heard the stor of Larry the miner, who had been sent by his comrades upon a tour of prospecting through the mountains. Larry. had been a geologist, and so had a good idea of ores, and went upon his trip, which resulted in his discovery of Leonard Delsens, The Vagaboni had heard mention of his enemy’s name, and tbe reader knows how he at once started out to find him. He arrived to find Leonard Delorme just starting out upon his mission to try and atone for the past as much as in his power lay. He had lingered about the mine unable to nerve himself to kill his foe, until one day he found that Leonard Delorme had departed for some place unknown to him. Half-starved, nicky revengeful, he had followed, and the reader knows the result. When he was foiled by the presence of Bor- den Branch, he had sent a death-shot at him, and then, failing to kill, had pursued him until the rain-storm had destroyed the trail. But he was not to be thwarted, and so had decided that Borden Branch had gone to the mine of Leonard Delorme. Thither he went, and a few crackers and what game he killed were his only food, and he ate nothing unless forced to do so by the most He reached the mine of his old foe, and found ee his surmise was right, Borden Branch was there. ** Why should I not have all? ‘“*T have suffered much, and his life alone stands between me and wealth. : ‘*He must die.” __Suéh had been the determined words of the Vagabond, who at last had come tothe end of = ga he had so tirelessly and patiently fol- owed, ; CHAPTER XII. M ied ea ak response _ MONTHS pa away and no came Gb the leteer which Cara. Mayiell-the beautifnl answer to the one telling her of her father’s death and the fortune in store for her, She had, after a reasonable time, at the re- quest of Mr. St. Jobn, written again, and no response hac come to her, - Then, as she was about to write to the gs master of the mining-camp where Leonard De- for her. ; ___ It was addressed as before to the General De- livery of the New York Post-Office, just as the other had been, though she had given an address at rr merchant's store, in the letters she had written. wb! as The letter was mailed from the same mining- camp as the first had been, but the writing was in a different band. ; his bad caught the eye of the merchant, en it out home with the tmark and band, had not opened _ “As you have been so kind, Mr. St. John, to tter to you unopened to read to you,” she confess a curiosity ‘as well as interest, Miss to know the contents of your letter, as I eT ee b t, but at once 3 “ pay creditors. *T now hold his interest, with you as partner, ‘* Write me as to what you desire done, and be- lieve that I will honestly carry out your every wish. * With respect, “B. BoRDEN, * Muynell-Delorme Mine, * Guico# Crry Camp, ** Colorado.” Such was the letter from B. Borden, and at | its conclusion, Mr, St. John and Cora Mayuell ! sat gazing at each other in astonishment, for the same thought was in the minds of each. CHAPTER XIII. A MYSTERY TO BE SOLVED. WHEN a few moments of silence had passed, | jn which both were busy with their thoughts, | Cara Maynell said: ‘‘ What do you make out of this letter, Mr. St. John?” “Tt is a very comprehensive letter.” ‘‘True, and explains why I have not heard from my former correspondent, Leonard Delorme,” “ Fully.” ‘‘There can be no doubt now about my father’s untimely and sad end.” ‘** None.” ‘* And that he left me the fortune?” “Not the slightest doubt in the world, Miss» Cara.” . “My poor, poor father,” and she hastily brushed a tear from her eyes, ** The draft there proves the sincerity of your new correspondent, Miss Cora.” “Yes, sir.” ‘““Tt is a draft on a New York bank, and I will take you to the city to-morrow, so you can draw the money and depesit. to your own account.” ‘‘Thank you, sir.” ** But to-night you had better write your letter to your new ccrrespondent,” _ “IT will, sir,” and Cara Maynell seemed to be in a reverie. ‘*Do you recall the name, B. Borden, for you said you thought that the writing was familiar?” ‘*No, I know no one by that name, though I once had a—a friend whose first name was Borden, and his last name began with the same initial; but the writing is not his, nor is hein the West, but in Europe.” sf “ Miss Cara, have you noted about this affair what I have?” . “T do not exactly understand to what you refer, Mr, St. John?” **Do you see any mystery in all this?” “ Ab, yes, Ido.” ~ “What mostly mystery ?”’ ‘The death of my father at the hands of an unknown foe, then the murder of Mr. Delorme by an unseen assassin, and the shot at my last correspondent, Mr. Borden.” ‘Yes, it wouli seem to me that one person fired the three shots.” : ** Tt does look as though some foe followed the three who knew of the existence of the mine.” “So I think, but lam glad that Mr, Borden at least was fortunate enough to escape.” “So am I; but I will write him at once,” and at the request of Mr, St. John Miss Maynell seated herself at his litrary desk and wrote to her miner correspondent, as follows: ‘* WILDLANDS Manor. impresses you as_ the ‘* Miner B. BorpEN:— “My Dear Str:—Your letter has “this day been receiyed, with its inclosed draft of five thousand having re- lieved my mind upon a ‘matter that has sorely troubled me of ny and also for the money sent, which your communication explains is a part of a _ fortune in gold-dust left me by my poor father. ‘ ‘Let me explain that some years ago my father was unfortunate in his financial matters and lost every doilar, and wert off, ] knew not where, “Tt seems that he was fortunate enough to dis-° larg 7 } } \ * By? : . 7 Ng Plage Na pL ek a hi a a ls +e — > w - [PR : LW SRA pear ee
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: JR a cover a gold mine, which, alas! cost him his life, and from Mr. Leonard Delorme, who you doubt- less know found him wounded by the roadside. he owed it that his latter days were cared for. ‘*Mr, Delorme wrote me, though you do not refer to the matter, telling me "of my half-interest with him in the mill, and asking me to address him at a certain point, which I did, with full instructions, “TI heard nothing from him, so wrote again and ~ ym without reply, and the letters doubtless await him at the mining-camp post-office,.and you are at liberty to call and get them, opening them, of course, to note their contents. * Your letter explains the sad reason why I did not hear from Mr. Delorme, but, with the shot given you, and which I am glad for your sake was not fatal, causes me to feel that there is some secret foe of all connected with the Maynell-Delorme Mine, and I advise you to be most careful as to whom you trust, and cautious as to your movements. “This advice is suggested by one who has my interest at heart and to whom I have submitted your letter of course. *“T would say that you can send me drafts for my share in the Maynell-Delorme Mine as before, but pray deduct all expenses from my share. I send within an address inthe city which will me “With warmest thanks for your great kindness, believe me, ‘*Sincerely yours, ““Cara MAYNELL.” This letter Mr. St. John read carefuly and fully approved of, and it was sent on its way to the far frontier the following morning, and a reply was anxiously looked for, not only by Cara Maynell, but by Mr. and Mrs, St. John and Allene, all of whom were most deeply in- terested in the beautiful governess, “Tam afraid you will give me up now, Miss Cara, as you are so rich,” said Allene one day to her governess, ‘*No indeed, Allene, not uutil your father thinks you have advanced beyond my care and teaching, for I dearly love you all and dJook upon ildlands as my home, ‘* My fortune will simply enable me to have what [ want, and I can ask no more.” “You have many gentlemen cicivers now, Miss Cara, but seem to care little for them. ‘*T hope you won’t get married.” Allene saw that she had touched her governess “to the heart, for the face paled, the head droop- _ forward and a low moan came from her Ips, ‘“‘ Forgive me, for I know I said something » hurt you,” and Allene with tears in ber e drop down on her knees before her teac be and threw her arms about her neck. ““There, do not mind it, Allene, for it was simply a sad memory of the past, called up by your words that hurt me, “Tt is over now, so come, let us take a gallop on horseback, for I see the horses are being brought around.” But days passed into weeks, and one, two, three months went by and no letter came from the man of the Maynell-Delorme Mine. Sort was another mystery in this to be solv CHAPTER XIV. THE DETECTIVE CHIEF. Tue not hearing from the miner, B. Borden, as he signed himself, was a cause of not only great anxiety, bnt surprise to all at Wildlands, the lonely home of Merchant Thomas St. John, The St. Johns had come to love the governess as though she was really one of their atnily by kindred ties. Her beautiful, sad face had won pees at first, but then her refinement, her accomplishments, and her lovely character had increased their re- spect and admiration to love. They were still in ignorance of her past, an more than had been discovered by the two le ters from Leonard Delorme and Miner Borden which she had shown to Mr. St, Jobn. - Whether she was married, or unmarried, they did not know, Upon coming to Wildlands she had given her name as Miss Cara Maynell; but the letters had come addressed to Mrs, Cara Maynell, Could it be that she was really married? That Mr, St. John would not ask her. She had known some deep sorrow, that was certain; but she was the lady to the manner born in appearance and actions, ber education was far aboye the average, her accomplish- ments, as musician, singer, artist, and linguist such as to cause others to envy her, and she bad proven herself a most-competent teacher, he had inherited, so stated letters from the est, a fortune from her father. Why need more be asked about her? So thought both Mr. St. John and his wife and Alene having told them how are had hurt the governness, in speaking of ber marrying, ae The The Vagabond ofthe Mines of the Mines. PS PEE a TE a ta eg ~ Sy they were careful to avoid any allusion that might give her pain, As no letter came to her, with her they were anxious, and at last, as months went by, and no word came from Miner Borden, a consultation was held one night in the library. The result of this consultation was that Mr, St. John decided to bring Captain John Boland, the detective chief, up to Wildlands with him the following evening, and put the entire mat- ter before him, to see what was best to be done. So the next evening there arrived with Mr, St. John, the famous detective chief, Captain John Boland. The letters of Leonard Delorme and Miner Borden were placed before the detective, who read them with an unmoved face. Then he asked: ‘‘ Had youn father any one enemy,’Miss May- nell, who might have dogged his steps for re- ven e?” know of no one,” was the answer, after some hesitation. ‘He was once a very rich man?” : “ Yes.” ** But failed?” ‘“He lost his wealth by unfortunate specula- tions.” ‘* He had no entangling alliances?’ ‘*T do not understand you, sir.” ‘“‘ Pardon me, but there was no woman in the case?” “None that I ever heard of, sir.” “Your mother has been some time dead?” ‘© Yes, since my childhood; but may I ask th necessity of these questions, sir?” “‘T beg pardon, Miss Maynell, but I do not wish to woo in the dark. ‘*Knowing your mother to have died years ago, that your father had no entangling alli- ances, I can dismiss at once the belief of a woman in the case, and turn toward a man, for revenge was doubtless the cause of your father’s death, and, if not, it was the desire to get his wealth. ‘* In the latter case why did the man delay so long, that is between your father’s death and the shot at this esr Miner Borden, to get possession of his wealth? ‘“‘T can see much mystery in the case, and cannot believe, after Borden’s letter to you, that he has been tempted to defraud you out of your fortune, ‘* Yet, human nature is weak, and such might have been the case,” ‘* T cannot believe it, sir.” ‘‘Nor I,” added Mr. St. John, while Cara Maynell continued: ‘*T did doubt the miner, Leonard Delorme, and so did Mr, St. John; but we wronged him, you see, and I now feel that there is some good motive why Miner Borden has not written as he promised.” “You have had but this one letter from him?” “That is all.” ‘¢That came five months ago?” “ Yes. ” ‘ And you have written several times?” “ Five letters in all, Captain Boland.” **Did you write to bave your letters returned to you if not called for?” I did.” That is strange if the postmaster understood his business,” “Tt is a mining-cam only, and doubtless mail eerery is very lax there”, suggested Mr. St. i) “* Well, it is a most interesting case, and I am sorry that my duties will not permit me to go aoe: & to work it up; but I have just the man ‘or you.” e must bea man of undaunted nerve and skill 2 said Mr. St. John. “He is.” “In fact, several should go.” “That I leave to him for io will know best ” “Can I send a dispatch to the town, Mr. St. John, to get oe man bere on the first train?” 4 Certainly, nd a servant was ordered to mount a totes wed ride to town with a dispatch, having just time to catch the office open for it was near the closing time, Then the detective chief set to work prepar- — plan for the man to work upon. e took the envelopes addressed ss Miss May- nell, as specimens of the writing of Delorme and B. Borden, and which had also the written name of mining-camp and date of mailing in the hands of the two post-masters, for the writ- ae each was in a different band. pies of the letters were made, by Cara May- nell and Allene St. John, tosave time, and all the data necessary was prepared for the detec- tive who was to ferret out this Borden mystery. pace a ee SPER ean eeenger a (i - merce oe It was late when the party retired for the night: but Cara Maynell was awakened at eight the next morning by Allene St. Jobn who said: “Get up, Miss Cara, for the detective has come, for cain Boland drove to the station for bim, and he’s the handsomest boy I ever saw,’ ‘*Boy, Allene!” “Yes, he is a boy if Iam a girl, as he doesnot look a day over eighteen, and he’s handsome as a picture.” ‘* He seems to have made an impression upon you at first sight, Allene,” laughed the gover- ness, as she began her toilet. e bas, and I guess its acaseof love at first sight,” ‘and with a meriy laugh Allene left the room, and descended to the piazza to get an- other look at the handsome “ Boy Detective” as she called bim, { 1 CHAPTER XV. A STRANGER IN THE CITY. A YOUNG man, almost, if not quite » bo ears, was seated in the window of a New ort otel one morning, gazing out upon the busy scene in the street, when his eyes, as he leant far over to view a passing four-in-hand, fell upon a handkerchief lying on the top of the framing of the window beneath him It was tied up at the ends, and evidently held something within its folds. Its position was sucb as to indicate that it had fallen from ye window sill of the room in which the youth sat. Stepping to the corner of the room the youth took from a rifle case a ramrod, with a small | screw on the end, and with this he reached the handkerchief, twisted the screw into it and drew it up to his hand. Opening it he started at what he discovered. There was within it a lot of je ewelry, consist- ‘ing ofa diamond necklace and bracelet, several rings containing costly gems, some ear-rings, & lady’s and gentleman’s watch and chains, and 4 urse aes with money, along witha roll of ank-note “My Goa! ! said the youth as he gazed upon the root: before him, “Ten dollars in my pocket, just wonderin what I could do, bere in this great city and no a single friend, and now the possessor of a sal fortune, for what I have here is worth fully thirty thousand dollars. “Well, itis not mine; but, under my ebiek a stricken circumstances I must bury my pri and accept areward which will be given for pair and that will enableme to go West once m rab! it may be, unknown as I am, that I will be suspected of ‘the robbery of these things. “‘T must go slow.” He examined all he had found closely, and then said: ‘¢ Now to find the owners of these jewels and money diamonds: “g, E. D.” On the gentleman’s watch were the initials: “a, Di" The handkerchief was a silk one and bore the initials: “ L. EK ” Over these — ae embroidered an dak holding in its talons a lance, For Solas time the youth sat in deep medita- tion. He was evidently studying up the “* case,” and the best way to go about its solution. As he gat there the li “ revealed a bandsome face, one with almost rfection of feature, There was intelligence, fe earlessness and resolu- tion stamped upon bis face oe his years, for — he inne seemed over eighteen Ll he were large and dark, “full of expres- sion and fire, and his hair was" brown, so’ and wore long, for it fell upon bis broad shoulders. His complexion was darkly bronzed, as though from exposure from a life in the open air, and his form was tall, elegant, yet muscular. He was dressed well, but bis clothes began to show the effects of steady wearing. Upon a table near a belt contaiiing a pair of silver mounted revolvers, and in the corner stood a repeating rifle of en the floor were a Mexican saddle, horse-hair bridle with silver Are 1 and a lariat. A look on thoneh he bad just arrived in the hotel, in the town in fact, for he had been landed, only a couple of hours before, from a Vera steamer. 7 He saw on the lady’s watch the monogram in — ee whileon . ck near completed his traps and it | \ ~-
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At last, as though he had decided how to act, his face brightened, and he rose to his feet. * The handkerchief with its valuables found a a hiding-place in his pocket, and he descended to ' the office and asked the clerk to permit him to look over the register. He ran bis finger over the names, going back for a week, and stopped at: ; “Mr. Murray DUNLAP AND WIFE “ Molle Ala.” } **The number of their room js 145, and mine is 147, and communicates, for I recall the door between,” he said to himself. Tben he again looked over the register and found the name: “Lance EaGue, ‘* New York.” ‘That explains the eagle wita the lance in his talons, embroidered on the handkerchief,” mut- tered the youth, and he asked the clerk: ‘Do you know a Mr. Lance Eagle in town?” ‘Yes, sir, | know him.” “ Have you seen him lately?” ** He came back from Europe a week ago and stop ye with us over night, before going home.” V here does he live?” On Staten Island.” cr ‘* Has he a business address?” ‘‘ Not now, for his father left him a fortune I believe; but you can find out at the Whip and Spur Club,” ‘**Thank you; but have Mr. and Mrs, Dunlap left for their home in the South?” “They have left the botel, but are in the city, é waiting to see if they cannot hear of some dia- monds and money stolen from them. **Do you know them?” ‘he “No, but I have an introduction to them.” You will find them at the house of Doctor in Richard Salter, on Fifth avenue near the Park,” : oe obliging clerk, referring to an address- 00 F ‘*Thank you,” and the youth returned to his phar room. ie He listened, and felt sure no one was in the a , next room, so he sat down to the table, and wrote ee, a few lines on a piece of pa : This he myteed under the door between his room and the next. + Sd out into the hall he called toa chamber- aN mai ry ** A piece of paper has blown under the door Ae of my room into the next apartment, so will you he" kindly get it for me?” aa His request was made politely. and a half-dol- ea lar added force to it, so that the A cose. was eee ee and the chambermai ned the ea oor. Faia The youth saw that it was a large room and |. x that there was a beam against the door between he the two rooms, and the lock and key was on oe ng e door did not open outward, but by sli back into the wall. : The paper was found aad the youth returned to his room, the chambermaid to her work. Then the youth took upa steel instrument he had found on the floor of his room that morn- in ft was an odd tool, and its use he could net understand, Suddenly, after a close examination of it, he started to his feet and walked over to the sliding door between the rooms, CHAPTER XVI. Be OS THE UNKNOWN DETECTIVE. 3 Wira the strange instrument in his hand, the ao aN youth examined the keyhole of the door. an He saw that the key was on the other side, Snail and the door was certainly locked. y 4 Then he took the instrument and inserted it into the lock, and by moving a slide caught the of end of the key iu a vise-like grip with the steel | , Pinchers of tke tool, This enabled him to turn the key in the lock, 5. and a slight force rolled the door back so that he on could see into the room and was able to place his gare hands upon all rig of the topof the marble e ‘ bureau, by moving the glass slightly. \ He gave a low Y chuckle, closed and relocked ras the door and soon after left bis room. -— she made his way out of the hotel and sought _ the hip and Spur Club. ‘a The butler to that elegant establishment told Pes: him that Mr, Lance iy was not in, but would doubtless be during the afternoon. The butler was called aside, and a ten-dollar bill placed in his band. i It was the youth’s last bank-note, but he felt ~ pe had more to draw on in his pocket, as he would not spare the treasure he had found in The ee ee ee ee of the Mines. carrying out the work he had set Nie a eh acied Keapwage, | cacvvica-vnk ‘Gan. work: VASA aAanENe to perform, “You see I am a poor relative of Mr. Eagle, and have just come to town, hoping he can get me work to do, so I’d like to ask you some ques- tiony if you can be discreet, and | won’t forget you W¥ you help me.” “Certainly, sir, certainly; how can I serve you?” and the butler pocketed the ten. “Mr. Eagle is a very rich man, is he not?” ‘Well, sir, his father left him rich, but you see he owed so much it took more than half to ay up. ie You see I was his butler before he came here.” ‘** And he’s not rich now?” ‘* He’s got his home on Staten Island, sir, but that is mortgaged for full value, and he sold his carriages and horses when he went to Europe six months ago. ‘¢ You see, sir, he gambles heavily, and lives extravagantly, and [ really don’t think he has adollar of his own to-day. ‘* He’s a fine gentleman, is Mr. Eagle, and is very popular; but he keeps his misfortunes pretty well hidden from the public, so few know that he is not the rich man he appears. ‘¢ But I guess he can help you, sir.’ “Thank you; but he came back from Europe only lately?” ‘Yes, sir, about a week ago.” “ On what steamer?” ** The*Arago, sir.” “Ah, yes,” and telling the butler that he would see bim again, the young detective went down to the office of the steamer line that the Arago belonged to. An examination of ‘the books showed among the list of passengers the names of Mr. and Mrs, Murray Dunlap and Mr. Lance Eagle. The youth smiled and then returned to the club of the Whip and S Br: and asked the but- ler to describe to him Mr. Lance Eagle, as he did not know him by sig ht. “A tall, paiva entleman, sir, about thirty, though looking older from fast living, and— There be is now!” A stage was passing, and the gentleman in question got out, The youth eyed him closely, and, as he passed jah = the club, saw that bis face wore a haggard Phen the detective called a cab, and told him to drive to the residence of Dr. Richard Salter, on Fifth avenue, near the Park, Half an hour after he was set down in front of a handsome residence, on the door of which was the name: ‘“RicHARD SauTeR, M.D.” “Ts Mr. Murray Dunlap stopping here?” he — the liveried servant who appeared at the oor. ** Yes, sir, but he is not in.” ‘Ts Mrs, Dunlap in?” ** Yes, sir.” Ask her if she will see me, please?” ‘* Your card, sir, please?” ‘‘T have none,” and youth’s face flushed as though it wasa crime to be found without so important a piece of pasteboard. * Say prone a that a gentleman wishes to see her, as her husband is not in.” The youth was ushered into the parlor, for there was that} in his appearance to command respect, and soon after a young and lovely-faced indy entered, he was handsomely dressed, and turned her large, dark eyes upon the visitor as though in wonder as to who he was. The youth bowed in a courtly way, and said: ‘Mrs, Dunlap, I believe?” “Yes, sir, but’ I have not the pleasure of knowing you, I believe?” “No, madam; but I asked for you as the ser- vant told me your husband was out.” ‘Yes, he has gone down-town with Doctor eaiers but may I ask your business with ‘*] am a detective, Mrs, Dunlap, and called to ask the nature of your losses some time ago?” “‘Oh, yes; but have you a clew to them?” “T think that I have; but when and where where they stolen?” that is just what worries my husband and euee ** We arrived in port at night, and deciding to come at once ashore, as we found we could do so, got ~ and dressed hastily, and I put, or thought that I did so, my jewels, our watches and some money, in my hand sachel. ‘* We drove to the hotel, retired, and the next morning found all missing.” ** And the band sachel? ‘Was where I put it on the bureau, but ead was little in it.” ** And your door was locked?” ‘“Oh, yes, and the door between our room and the next one also, though the person occupying it was a friend.” ‘* His name, please?” “I do not mind telling you: it was Mr. Lance Eagle, whom we met on the steamer, and as you must know, a New Yorker of wealth and position.” “Ob, yes; then you must have left your dia- monds on th» steamer?” ‘* Yes, though no trace could be found there of them,” “May I ask their value?” iy The watches and jewelry were worth all of twenty-five thousand dollars, for my property were bridal presents to me frum my husband and dear friends, and there were some two thousand dollars in money.” ‘“* Any names on the jewelry?” “On my watch was the monogram, 8, E. D., which were the initials of my name, Sue Ed- 9 a with my hbusband’s name, Dunlap, added “Thank you, Mrs. Dunlap, and let me say that I will give you hope that your valuables may be found.” “There isa reward of five thousand offered for them, sir.” ‘‘Thank you,” and the youth turned and left the house, leaving the handsome young wife in a very joyful mood at the hope of finding her property. ‘** Do you know a good detective agency here?” asked the youth of his cabman, as he left the Salter mansion. ““There’s after being Captain Boland’s Secret Service Agency, sir,” said the cabman. ** Drive me t ere,” was the response, CHAPTER XVIL. THE YOUNG BORDERMAN. CapTain JACK BOLAND, one of the noted Secret Service chiefs of the great metropolis, sat in his + maga office when a stranger was an- noune “T am very busy, George, so see what he wishes,” said the chief. To see you, sir, he said.” “ All right, show him in,” and the chief took a seat at another desk, where bis face would be in shadow, and that of his visitor in the light of the window, while behind the latter’s seat was a full length mirror, revealing every movement, Before the chief, hidden, however, under the edge of the desk were a pair of cocked revolvers ready for the hand, The door opened and the young detective entered, In spite of his seeing so many different people, Captain Boland was at once struck with the appearance of bis visitor, “Be seated, sir, and say how I can serve you Sit there, please.” The youth obeyed and returned: \ ** You are Captain Boland?” “Tam, sir, at your service.” ‘*May 1 ask if you know of a robbery of jewelry and money that has occurred of late from the Elite Hotel?” * You refer to the loss of the Dunlap jewels?” “Yes, sir.” ‘It is not certain that it was a robbery, or if it occurred at the Elite Hotel. WY ‘*T am certain of it, sir.” ‘* Ah! produce the thief and the jewels, and rag can claim the reward of five thousand dol- tad ‘*I can produce both thief and jewels, or sure- ly the latter, and I bave come to consult with you to see if you do not think I am correct in my surmise as to the robber.” *‘ I will be glad to aid you all in my power sir; but I have not yet had the pleasure 0: knowing your name.” “« Edgar Dumont.” ‘“‘ You are not a New Yorker?” “No, sir; 1 only arrived in New York early this morning.” ‘* And came about the Dunlap affair?” “On the contrary, I knew nothing of it until I arrived.” ‘* May : ask where you are from?” “Late from Mexico, Captain Boland, but I have been a frontiersman for the past few years.” , s ‘Bardon me, but may 1 ask you why you are “ “Certainly, for there is no reason to hide any- thing. a ee NE ee ee
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‘*T am from Texas, my father having been a ranchero of wealth in that State. ** He was killed, and his fortune went, no one knew just how, or where, so I set out to seek my fortune, became a scout, a miner, and then a member of the Rocky Mountain Detectives. ‘*T learned by accident of something that led me to believe that I could find my father’s mur- derer in Mexico, so I went there, spent nearly all my money in the search, and found that the man | sought had come to New York. ‘* I took the steamer here, and arrived to-day. ‘‘That is my story, sir.” **T thank you for your frankness, Mr, Du- mont, and since you mention your name may say that I have heard that General Dave Cook, the chief of the Rocky Mountain Detectives had in his command a youth who was noted for his daring and clever work, and won the name of Detective Dumont, the Man of Mystery. ** Are you that person, sir?” ‘* Yes, sir, the boys called me so,” “T am glad to know you, sir; but now to your discovery of this Dunlap affair?” ‘*T put up at the Elite Hotel, and was given room 149, **T was looking out of the window, and leaned far over to see a tally-ho coach that passed, when I discovered something on the upper ledge of the window beneath me. ‘*T drew it up, and found it to be a silk hand- kerchief containing money and jewelry. *“T said the monogram and initials on the watches, and the initials and a crest embroider- ed upon the handkerchief, so I went down to the register and discovered that Mr. and Mrs, Murray Dunlap of Mobile Alabama had occupied room 145 une week before. ‘“*T also discovered that at the same timea gentleman from New York had the room next door, the one I have, “J learned from the clerk that Mr. Dunlap and his wife were still in the city at the bome of their friend Doctor Richard Salter, and that the gentleman who had had my room was a guest of the Whip and Spur Club, and was sup- posed to be rich, ‘*] returned to my room, wrote something on a sheet of paper, slipped it beneath the door of the next room and seeking the chambermaid asked her to let me get it, leaving: her to sup- the wind bad blown it under the door. ¥ pon entering the room I saw that the door locked on that side, was a slide door and had a bureau against it. ‘*T saw this at a glance, got the slip of paper and returned, ‘*T had found on the floor of my room, under the table, this instrument, which please tell me the use of.” He handed over the tool to the chief, who looked at it most carefully and shook his head. ** T cannot tell you, sir.” The youth stepped to the door, took out the key, put it on the other side, and with the in- ail ra coolly locked and then unlocked the oor. The chief’s impassible face showed surprise at this, but he asked: ‘*And how did you make the discovery of what this instrument was for?” ‘*It flashed upon me suddenly, as I was pon- dering over the matters, and I tried it, and the result was what you have just seen. “T unlocked the door bevween the rooms, slided it back and could put my hands on any part of the bureau’s marble top by moving the mirror, whicb swings on a pivot. ‘IT then decided that the jewels had been taken from there, by the one who had occupied the one I had, the one night that Mr, and Mrs, Dunlap had stopped at the hotel, ‘*This person I traced to the Whip and Spur Club, gave the butler my last ten dollars, and got from him the fact that the individual was a pular gentleman about town, had inherited a arge fortune, but bad almost, if not quite, swamped himself, and had returned from Europe on such a date, **T went to the steamer’s office, saw his name and the Dunlaps’, and so decided that he was y man. “*T took a cab and drove to Doctor Richard Salter’s, and found that Mr. Dunlap had gone down-town. ‘*T asked to see his wife, and she told me just what had been lost, but was not sure whether to blame the hotel or the steamer, though she thought she had put the things in her sachel and taken them with her. ‘*Tt was a small hand-sachel, she said, with her toilet articles, and she had placed it on the bureau, and found that the things were missing in the morning. The Vagabond of the Mines. eee “ The next room, she said, hud been occupied by a gentleman they had met on the Arago comirg over, but had been locked. ‘‘T came to the conclusion that that gentle- man was the thief, so sought you, as my cabman told me of you. ‘‘ Such is my story, sir, and here are the jew- elsand money intact.” He placed the handkerchief with its valuables before the chief, who remarked: ‘‘Mr. Dumont, you have done the cleverest piece of detective work in a few hours that I ever knew of. ‘¢ T do not know what your intentions are for | the future; but I now offer you a place with me and the pay of a special, first-class man.” ‘* And I accept the place, sir,” was the prompt reply, ‘‘for I am, I may say, dead broke, and was intending to sell wy traps to get back West on, as, without money, I knew I could not find the man I was on.the trail of.” “TI will help you in that too; but this hand- kerchief bears the initials and crest of a gentle- | man I know—Mr. Lauce Eagle.” ‘* Yes, sir, he is the man who stole that prop- erty,” was the cool response of the young detec- tive. CHAPTER XVIII. IN THE TOILS, ‘““Mr, Dumont,” said Chief Boland, after he had pondered awhile on what he heard: “ Let me tell you that it has come to me of late of several questionable things that Mr. Lance Eagle has been guilty of doing. ‘“‘One of them is a charge made by a pawn- broker, “Tt seems that Mr, Eagle had been in the habit of pawning every month or two some val- uable diamond jewelry that bad belonged to bis mother. ‘“‘ They were in cases, and as he regularly took them out, paying the large interest demanded, the pawnbroker ceased to examine them when handed in. ‘The last time, just before he sailed for Eu- rope, he pawned the things, and on his return went to redeem them, and in looking them over saw that the diamonds had been taken out and imitation jewels put in their stead. “The pawnbroker vowed he knew nothing about it, but to hush up the matter compromised by paying half the amount, some fifteen hun- dred dollars, to Eagle; but he came to me and asked to have a.detective put on the track of the ee man. “T find that he is heavily in debt, bas no money, gambles and dissipates, and, all put to- gether, it does look as though he was guilty. ‘Now I'll give you a letter to one of my friends in the club, asking him to show you every courtesy, and I'll supply you with funds needed. “ Remain at your hotel, but go and buya nobby outfit and pretend to bea rich young Texan ranchero. “My friend will make you at home at the club, introduce you to Eagle, whom you are to cultivate, and Iam sure it will not take you long to find him cut, **T will write to Mr. Dunlap in the mean time, asking him not to return South just yet, and telling him his goods are safe, but not to speak of it to any one, ‘* Now, Mr. Dumont, let me again express my pleasure in meeting you, and expect me to see you at your hotel this evening, and I will bring my friend, who will at once take you to the club, so you must be in trim.” Thus the two parted, and that evening, hand- somely dressed, and with several hundred dol- lars in his pocket, Edgar Dumont found bimself the guest of the Whip and Spur Club. “Who is that handsome man, Mr. Gayfer?” he asked of Mr. Hammond Gayfer, the rich young merchant to whom the detective chief ad introduced him, ‘His name is a strange one, for it is Launce- lot Eagle, though every one knows him as Lance Eagle, and he so signs himself, k ‘He is a wild one, and spends money like a prince, “* Would you like to meet him?” b “Yes, thank you, for Iam struck with bis appearance,” “He is talking to two gentlemen from the South to whom he presented me last night. “Their names are Murray end George Dun- lap, I believe; and they are friends 0? one of our noted pbysicians, Doctor Salter; but I will let Eagle present you, for they are clever fel- lows, and one of them has F bay met with a very heavy loss by being robbed of jewels belonging to his wife, and money of his own.” a ee A GME Sn ae» a a pi YALE AIDED i RRL AOD LEO I LEE) — ae They crossed over to where Lance Eagle stood and Hammond Gayfer presented his friend. Eagle received bim with warm cordiality, introduced his two friends, the Messrs, Dunlap, and the party sat down at a table for a glass of wine together. Soon after a game of cards was proposed by Lance Eagle, and Edgar Dumont played with him, and when be had left the club that night he had lost a hundred dollars by the game, The next day Edgar Dumont, told the chief that be had observed Lance Eagle had slyly changed the pack of cards handed to him by ~ the steward, and he had slipped one out the nuimber, The two men examined it and found it marked. Thus two weeks passed away, and Lance Eagle and the young Texan bad become in- separable companions. p One night at a late hour the detective chief dropped into the Whip and Spur Club. Edgar Dumont and Lance Eagle were in a private room playing cards, The detective chief was accompanied by a friend and they entered the room. ‘“‘Mr, Eagle, I am sorry that itis my duty to. arrest you; but here is my warrant, and you are my prisoner!” Lance Eagle sprung to his feet at the words of the chief, and the companion of the latter’ seized the cards, ‘“*My God! there is some mistake,” cried the prisoner, “None, sir, for I arrest you on a number of charges, the principal one being that you rob- bed Mr. and Mrs, Dunlap, and, in some way dropped your booty out of the window and be-- lieved it had fallen on the pavement and been picked up by some one before you could get down to the street and get it. “‘T need say no more, sir, and I advise you to create no scene, for it will only be the worse: for you.” The man seemed crushed, and sinking into his: seat buried his face in his hands. Half an hour after he was ina cell in the Tombs, But he never came to trial, for in some mys- terious way he escaped and disappeared beyond all efforts to find him. But Mr. and Mrs, Diep Owe back their’ jewels and money, and gar Dumont would only accept as a reward one thousand dollars, which he said he would some day return if fortune favored him. CHAPTER XIX. WESTWARD HO! WHEN Miss Cara Maynell came down to break-- fast, atter she had been called by Allene, she found Mr. St. John awaiting her and with him the detective chief and the officer he had sent for, The governess had expected to find in Captain Jack Boland an ordinary person, but had been agreeably surprised to discover him to be a gen- tleman of intelligence and courtly in manners: as a Chesterfield. She now met with another surprise, though prepared, from what Allene had told her, to see a handsome youth, He was youthful in appearance it was true, at first glance quite boyish; buta close look showed a face of great strength, and one, that for its. good looks would bave been stern and resolute to a very great degree, ; He was dressed in black that was almost cleri- cal in appearance. and bowed low when pre- sented to the governess, ‘*‘Miss Maynell, I need hardly tell you that. Mr. Edgar Dumont is Captain Boland’s: choice to take in hand your case,” said Mr, St. Jobn, Miss Maynell bowed, and though, with Mr. St. Jobn she thought him rather young for so dangerous and important a work, she bad heard the chief’s story of him, as given the night before and felt that he fully carried out the praise be- 4 stowed upon bim by his ceptain. The four now went in to breakfast, where Mrs. y St. John and Allene awaited them, and the young detective was presented to the other ladies, while Miss Maynell gave a sly glance at her pu- pil as the handsome hero howed low when intro- uced. Mrs. St. John even was charmed with the young detective, who was SO easy in manner, and though modest in mien proved himself very entertaining. : After breakfast the party adjourned.to the library and the whole facts of the case were placed before Edgar Dumont, He listened attentively, asked questions occa~ sionally, and made a few notes here and there. , apse lm tll st i a tN “| ; ; Ne
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Then he went over the plans of his chief and when he was in the possession of the full facts of the case, Captain Boland said: *T have told Mrs. St. John and Miss Maynell, that you will carry out this work to a successful termination, Dumont.” ‘‘T can try,” was the modest response. * You will undertake it then, Mr. Dumont?” ‘t Certainly, Miss Maynell.” “Mr. St. John will arrange with you all pecu- niary matters.” ‘It will not be so very expensive, for working in the mines is not like city work where there is some one to pay at every turn. ‘* My personal expenses and pay will be about all, as I now see it, Miss Maynell.” “The work will be most perilous, and you certainly will need aid, so I beg you not to spare expense to ferret_out the mystery, at least as far as the money I have will go.” ‘The danger [ am accustomed to, and I know just what I will have to face, as I have been through that very country.” ‘Indeed! then we have been most fortunate in securing your services,” said Mr. St, John, ‘Have you an ideaof your plan, Dumont?” asked Captain Boland. ‘To take the train to-night and go as far as I can by rail, there taking the stage early to the nearest point to the mines, “1 can there Pe a good horse, and I have my own saddle, bridle, arms and outfit, so will only need to rig out as a miner. *T will go into the mining-country as a pros- pector for a lead, and leave the rest to circum- stances.” ' ** You do not think that you had better take some one to aid you, for I will cheerfully pay the extra expense?” _“*No, for a man unaccustomed to border life would but be in my way, and what assistance I may need I can get it there, Miss Maynell,” was the response. So it was arranged, and as no train went down to the city before late in the afternoon, Captain Boland and his young ally were left to the family to entertain. This they did not find at all hard to do, for Edgar Dumont had a fine voice and sung Span- ish songs learned in Mexico, accompanying him- self upon Allene’s guitar, and afterward showed -. allaspecimen of his wondrous marksmanship ; with revolver and rifle. ; After lunch Allene went with Dumont fora gallop through the hills and all noted the superb seat of the young Texan in his saddle, as he ital plein upon a spirited animal which the mer- chant had bought for himself, but found too ’ wild for him to ride. The Texan managed him with perfect ease, and, as Allene dropped her riding-whip, when ‘they started to ride off, he wheeled quickly, swung Jow from his saddle and picked it up while on a canter, again placing himself by the side of the young girl ere she had reined her orse to a halt. it __ With many good wishes for his success, Edgar - Dumont left Wildlands that afternoon, having made friends of every one beneath the roof of the hospitable merchant, and that night he was flying along westward on his mission of danger to solve the mystery hanging over the Maynell- Delorme Mine, And, as Allene laid her pretty head upon her pillow that night, she muttered to herself: sbi Folks say girls can’t love, but I guess I 4 CHAPTER XX. , TWO PARDS. ae reader will recall that when the Vaga- bond of the Mines lost the crail of the horseman, ile. ea life be had so nearly taken, he was about in despair. He bad struggled so hard, suffered so much, and risked life so persistently to be avenged up- on Leonard Delorme that he felt that he fully deserved all the pecuniary benefit he could de- rive from his death. | He did not know, it will be remembered, that he owed it to the conscience of Leonard Del- orme that he bad been pardoned by Governor gue, nor was he aware that his enemy had to be paid back, with full ad gotten from him a placed himself beyond danger of arrest for his crime, and had won a fortune from the earth, he would never have dogged him to eath, or fired that fatal shot, __ But, not knowing this, he had been a blood- hound upon his trail, where, otherwise, the The Vagabond of the Mine oe EEE rg Rae tna ‘ Vagabond might have been willing to forgive what he had suffered by imprisonment, and that for his life, and become again his friend, But unfortunately for both men the Vaga- bond of the Mines knew not what the con- science-stricken Delorme had done, and arranged to do, as an act of justice, so tracked him to his doom. From what he had heard Larry the miner say that night in camp, he knew that Delorme had with bim the papers that located his mine, and so ye had seen another get there. ‘hat other he had,in the venom of his hatred, <a to kill, but, as has been seen, had failed. When wounded, the horse of Borden Branch | had not carried him toward the mine of Leonard Delorme, and not knowing the dazed condition of the man he trailed, the Vagabond of the Mines had supposed that he was not going to the mune, ' Hence, when he lost the trail of Borden Branch, by its being washed out by the storm, he thought that this man had another destina- tion in view than Delorme’s mine. Wet through, reduced to the smallest quantity of food, bis horse broken down, he decided upon one course, and that was, as has been seen, to go to the mine and await developments. He reached there to find Borden Branch in possession, He at once determined to find a convenient camp and begin operations against the man that stood between bim and fortune. But human nature had stood all that it was ssible even for his iron frame, and he found imself burning up with fever. He remembered going to look for a camp, but he remembered no more, for his borse took his own way, and that way was back to the nearest minivg-camps. The man simply remained in his saddle. He was delirious, but the movement of the horse seemed to keep him from throwing bim- self upon the ground. The horse went on until night came. Then he stopped at a stream and quenched his thirst, after which he fed on the grass near by. As bis rider did not dismount, the animal moved on, instinct guiding him along the trail. He halted again at dawn, drank, and cropped rass, Still the rider held his seat, moaning at times, then chattering away glibly to himself, then laughing aloud, but all the time burning up with ever. The horse moved on all through the day, and at night halted before a miner’s cabin. Ra ea men sat there smoking their pipes and xing. It was Sunday, and they had been brought up to respect the day, so they did so, They saw the horseman coming, and they loosened their weapons in their belt for service. These were perilous times, and every man was a foe until he proved himself a friend. But soon they saw the sorry plight of the horse and rider. The animal was thin and tired-looking, and the trappings were not worth a dollar. The rider was flushed with fever, his eyes sunk far back in bis head and bright as stars, the cheeks drawn in and the whole face and form that of a human being in deepest misery. | His old weapons hung from his saddle, and he had not a particle of food left, while his clothes were in tatters. A more pitiable sight could scarce be conceiv- ed than was this poor Vagabond of the Mines. His horse halted before the cabin and gave a = neigh, his appeal for release from his bur- en. The rider said nothing, but looked in mute ap- peal at the two men. His misery touched their hearts. “Quick, Ned, for ther poor feller is dyin’ I fears,” cried one. ‘Tt are ther Vagabond o ther Mines, Bob,” the other said. Bat they lifted him from his aorse, laid him upon the ground, and began to care for bim as om ag as though jhe had been their own bro- er, He was given a cot in the cabin, clean clothes were put upon him, and one of. the miners, who had a small case of medicines, deemed best to break his fever. The “horse was then cared for, and the two miners found their bumanity taxed by a fellow-— being left upon their hands, and one who was pen ge with fever and unable-to help bim- The next morning one man went to the mine to ne the other remained at the cabin as_ nurse, , s. gave him what he |. 11: Thus they took turns, and thedays passed into» weeks, and nearly a month went by before the: Vagabond was out of danger. His recovery was slow, but he gave no» trouble. He begged the two miners to leave him alone, , and they did so, As he grew stronger, he did all in his power™ to help. He had their noonday meal and supper ready for their return, the cabin was kept in perfect. ; order, and he did all in bis power to show his. , appreciation of their devotion to bim, e bad only asked how he came there, and. what he had said in bis delirium. They bad told him how his horse had brought. him up to the door of the cabin, but they said. he bad muttered words to bimself which they could not understand more of than: ‘“‘ Before Heaven, judge and gentlemen of the~ jury, I am not guilty of this murder.” This was all that they had beard. He seemed relieved at their words, but made no reply, no explanation. His horse bad thrived by rest and food and was doing well. The miners told the Vagabond they would. give hima home and wages if he would work. for them. ‘How long was I ill?” he bad asked. ‘Thirty seven days in all.” “Then you lost that number of days by your- kindness to me?” ‘‘ Don’t speak of it, pard,” said both men. “‘T]] work for you,” he said and he begam upon his duties. These were to get up early and get breakfast, then set the cabin to rights and come to the: mine for a couple of hours’ work. Then be returned to get dinner, and after~ dinner spent several hours in the mines, when he went back to the cabin and cooked supper. _ This enabled the miners to make up for lost me. s On the thirty-seventh day of his work, he did not come to the mine after dinner, When the miners returned to thecabin earlier than usual, as they felt anxious about him,, they fcund a slip of paper pegged on the door. It read as follows: ‘‘Parps:—You did a noble part by me, and I have= tried to return it as best I cap. “To-day ends my work for you, and makes up the: time lost by your devoted nursing of me during my” long iilness. ‘IT draw no wages from you, but give my services. free to repay you; but 1 do take from your shelf a. little gold dust, about twenty dollars’ worth I think, and provisions to last me a week. . “This dust and the value of the provisions I hope: some day to repay you, and perhaps I may be able to further prove my appreciation of your goodness.. to me. ‘*Some day I trust we may meet again. Once more thanking you, I say good-by. ‘“Rocks, THE VAGABOND.” Such was the note left by the Vagabond, who had merely departed, taking with him only his. weapons, horse and the dust and the provisions. 8 tated, Whither he had gone tbe miners could not. 2 CHAPTER XXI. AGAIN ON THE TRAIL. Ir had been a long while since Rocks the Vag- abond had been seen in the valley mining- camps, His “ fit” was remembered, and many sup-- posed Le bad gone off and died somewhere in the- mountains, ¥ But one morning he putin an appearance in. the valley. | He looked better in the face than when he bad’ last been seen, but his apparel was none the bet ter for extra wear, and his old weapons were about the same. His horse did look much improved, however,. and showed signs of a long rest and good care. Silent as before, the Vagabond simply nodded” to those he met and knew, just as though he had | seen them the day before, and when asked as where he had been, simply replied: “Tn the mountains.” la He made bis way to the store of the mining-- w.- camp, purchased some ammunition for his rifle | and pistol, got a baversack of provisions. a miner’s shirt, pair of shoes, and mounting bis ~ horse rode away. It was Sunday in the camps, and many of the miners were loafing about, or resting at their ins, Of course the retura of the Vagabond became a general subject of discussion, and many won-. eee
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patent ce = ES ES a ‘ { q \ q d . ee 12 lered where he had been and what be had been about. There was one man at the store when the Vag- sabond made his purchases, He had never seen the Vagabond with money, | or its equivaient, before. | This seemed to prove that he had been where | he could get gold. How much be had the man did not know; but he supposed the Vagabond bad found a mine, or -struck it rich somehow, The appearance of his horse indicated a rest, and so that rest must have been obtained while the rider was digging gold. This man, so interested in the Vagabond all of .& sudden, was a worthless sort of a fellow, work- ing only when he had to do so, and gambling and drinking whenever he earned a few dollars ahead. He answered to the name of Black Bill, from ‘the fact that his hair and beard were jet black, and his face was as dark as a Spaniard’s; but his ayes were bright blue, the contrast giving bim san evil look. Having made his purchases, the Vagabond — the mining-camp a short while before sun- “set. He went up the valley, and after an hour’s ride halted on a hill-top that looked back over athe trail. _His eyes fell upon the form of a horse and wider. What business had any man coming up that ‘trail, unless to follow him, for there we.e no «cabins that way, no mines. He would be careful. It was nearly sunset, and he must soon go into scamp for the night. He remembered that he had seen Black Bill watching him when he made his purchases at / ‘the store, and he gazed intently at the coming horseman. From where he had halted he was concealed ‘by a thicket, but he had a good view of the ail. “Tt is Black Bill. ‘‘He thinks I have struck a lead, and he in- tends to follow me, ‘* Well, forewarned is forearmed, and he has made a mistake.” ‘He rode on, a aonsnge expression on his face, _and soon after halted behind a large rock. Slowly along the trail came Black Bill. The Vagabond had several times, on purpose ‘to try the man following bim, turned from the ‘trail, and in each case he noted the fact that Black Bill did the same. There was no doubt but that he was on his “track, and the Vagabond knew his man. — Black Bill was known to bea murderer, as ~well as a rascal, and he held life cheap. If there was something to gain by killing the Vagabond, the latter knew that he had no com- ‘punctions of conscience about doing so. He would kill without mercy to benefit him- “self even so little, So the Vagabond halted behind the bowlder, looked to his weapons and lariated his horse out, -after which he hid ina clump of pines near. He wished Black Bill to come suddenly upon Jhis horse and suppose he had gone into camp for “the night. ‘4 The tracker would doubtless think the Vaga- ‘bond was gathering wood to cook his supper with, Up rode Black Bill, drew rein quickly as he “saw the horse, and then dismounting, unslung Anis rifle ana began to look about him. The Vagabond needed nothing more tocon- ce him that the desperado was seeking his step : harks would kill him, e. He was protected by a rock, and hidden by en Nar. arty though he could see Black Bill dis- y. His rifle was leveled at the desperado, and his srevolver lay on the rock right at his band. ‘* Hands up, Black Bill.” The desperado started. He saw that he was entrapped, and a border- -man for years he knew what ‘hands up” meant, when the one who gave the command chad the drop on him, The rifle of the desperado was dropped at his ‘feet and up went the hands of Black Bill as the Vagabond of the Mines stepped from the thicket, F CHAPTER XXII. TWO SHOTS, THE moment that the Vagabond of the Mines out of the thicket, Black Bill supposed It was just what the desperado would ha «done to the Vagabond, ho judged the map by The Vagabond of the Mines. himself; but he showed the coward in his nature and at once began to beg for bis life. ‘* Now, Rocks, how have I injured you that ou get the drop on me? Let up, pard, fer thet durned old rat-trap of arifle o’ yourn mou’t go off when you wasn’t intendin’ ter kill me.” ** Black Bill, I did intend to kill you, to shoot you down without one atom of mercy, for you were following my trail to kill me, as I have watched you trailing me, and know. “But 1 don’t wish to shout you down like a dog, so if you will solemnly swear not to ollow me from this spot, I will let you go; but still I shall be on the watch for you, should you break your oath,” “T}] swear, Rocks, and not break my vow nutber.” ** Then kneel,” The desperado dropped quickly upon his knees, ‘*Now Black Bill swear by your mother's memory that you will not track me from this spot, but return at once to the camps, so help you Heaven,” said the Vagabond of the Mines impressively, “T swear!” said the desperado, still on his poner and with his hands uplifted above his ead, ‘Mount your horse and go, as soon @s I have emptied your weapon: and taken your ammuni- tion.” This the Vagabond did, and returning tbe empty rifle and revolvers to the desperado he gy i Biack Bill needed no second bidding but threw himself across his saddle and rode quickly away without uttering a word. The Vagabond then mounted his horse and rode on his way, but soon turned off the trail and sought a camping place for the night. He built a fire, cooked bis frugal a er and was soon fast asleep wrappeJ in his blankets, He was up with the dawn and on his way, aud his destination was the Maynell—Delorme Mine. He reached the vicinity of the mine the next day, and hiding bis horse in a canyon went for- ward on foot to reconnoiter. In his former experience in the vicinity be had learned the trails and the lay of tke lana and he gained a position from whence he could obtain a view of the cabin of the miner, A curl of blue smoke Ve oy 8 from the chim- ney told him that the miners ad not left the place, and be decided to go back to his borse, make bim secure for the night and then creep up to a position opposite to the cabin door. When the dawn broke and the miner came forth he could shoot him down, for toward this man, who stood between himself and fortune, the Vagabond Miner had no mercy. He reached his horse and took him to a secure place, and was just about to dismount when tbe crack of a rifle was heard and the _Lorse fell forward, throwing his rider heavily to the ground, At the same instant a man dasbed up to bim and was about to fire his revolver down upon the half-stunned Vagabond, when a shot was heard and the new-comer sunk in his tracks, The Vagabond staggered to his feet and glanced about him in a vacant sort of war At his feet was the form of Black Bill, who had broken his oath and followed him, and a bullet had cut cut its way across his forehead, Then from a thicket near by advanced a tall form with bearded face. ‘‘My friend, I hope you are not seriously burt by your fall, though your horse is dead, I see. ‘J tried to fire sooner, but could not get an aim through the bushes at that fellow.” The Vagabond shrunk back from bis pre- server with a cry of terror, his face became livid, and throwing out his bands as though to ward off an impending danger, he reel and fell in a fit of unconsciousness, | “ Poor fellow, he is really badly hurt, I fear. “T will bear bim to my cabin,” The speaker raised the form in his strong arms and bore it away through the timber. It was no easy task, but at last he reached his cabin, and placing the still unconscious man upon his cot, began to restore him as best he could, : The Vagabond revived after a while, and — about him with a peculiar look upon his ‘ace, ‘* Who are you?” he asked. “ Only a miner, my friend; but you are bet- ter, I am glad tosee, and you will soon be all right, for your bones are not fractured.” * You saved my life?” ’ > th el ee Ms ae “J Pt , Wy J¢ a | ? ‘4 7 “, = aie Lae vic it ms Si Sai ea pen ese 225) 2 ST ar Sy a rr a ‘‘ Well, yes; I fired upon your intended slayer.” “Who was he?” , ‘* A large man, with black hair and beard—” “‘ Black Bill!” eagerly cried the Vagabond. ‘Doubtless you will know him when you see: him, for you seemed dazed when I got to you.” ‘Where is he?” ‘J left bim for dead where he fell.” “‘ And I owe my life to you? ‘How strange!” and the Vagabond rubbed his hand across bis bead in a peculiar way. ‘‘ There is nothing strange about it, my friend, for this is my horse, and I lighted a fire for sup- per, and then took a run out in the timber to get some game. “T saw your danger, and as my sympathies are always with the man in danger and misfor- tune, I fired at bim. ’ ** Now I will go and get your traps and bring them here, after which I will bury your enemy, ‘*] will go with you, for I am well able to do so.” “If you insist.” “ l 0.” - They left the cabin together and went toward the spot where the Vagabond bad so nearly lost his life, ; A cry broke from the lips of the Vagabond as he saw that the man wbo bad fired upon him had one, r There was a red stain upon the rocks where be bad fallen, and by the crimson drops they fol- lowed bis trail to where be had left his horse, several hundred yards distant. The tracks of the horse were there, but the animal and his master bad disappeared. é ‘It is useless to follow him with night coming ov, and I think he has bad a lesson that will keep bim away from your trail, so let us return for your traps and go to the cabin,” said the miner. This they did, and the meager possessions of the Vagabond were taken from bys dead horse and carried to the miner’s cabin. On the way some game was sbot, and the two sat down to a substantial supper that night, soon after which the Vagatond retired for the night on a bed made for Lim by his host, for the poor fellow seemed to suffer from his fall in spite of bis assurance to the contrary. CHAPTER XXII. A SECOND TOO LATE. Roy RockForD, or as he bas been more generally called in these pages, the Vagabond of the Mires, was more badly bruised than be at first thought, for the pext morning he was stiff and sore, and, at the suggestion of the miner, remained in bed. Two or three days passed away, and the Vagabond wes again bimself. ‘A man of bis endurance and physique, was not easily broken down, so be rallied quickly from what would have Jaid many a man up for a montb. But his mind was*sorely troubled. He had come there with the avowed purpose of killing the man who beld the mine, the one who bad stepped into the shoes of Leonard be ys e believed that, with the in his possession, the mine as j once appropriated everything for himself. Borden Branch therefore stood to him as the representative of the dead man, and he was -aripiee considered by Roy Rockford as bis air game. , ip the moment of his success as he believed, Black Bill bad called him to a halt. ¢ Black Bi)l bad fired at him, but bad miscalcu- lated somewhat and sent the bullet into the head of the horse instead of the rider, Running _ his foe while half-stunned and down, bis end would bave been quick and cer- tain but for the timely sbot of the miner. The nature of Roy Rockford was a or one, and he was not the man to raise ban against the miner, to whom he owed his life. pers of Delorme ‘About bimself the miner bad asked him not a question, during the few days he had been with him, nor bad he questioned his preserver. He felt strangely drawn toward the man, for bimself as much as that he owed bim his life. There was something about Borden Branch to win friendship an t, and the Vaga- bond began to wonder Ww ether such a man could be guilty of appropriating the mine of Leonard Beloeme to his own use, be he ever so needy, One day, a week after his corning, the Vaga- bond took the rifle of the miner, a started for a stroll in the hills for a shot at a deer. He had barely reached a point above the can- — a i : , TT RMT Fe ESO TORN Ta is own, be had at Sartre | \. ‘et yy —
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The Vagabond of the Mines. 1S yon, when he saw a human form not a hundred yards away. The man was Black Bill, as a second look re- vealed. He was peering over the cliff down into tke canyon, and his rifle was in his hand. The Vagabond knew that from bis position the eyes of Black Bill rested upon the miner, whom he had left seated in front of his cabin. Then the desperado’s rifi- went up to his shoulder, and at the same instant the Vagabond pulled trigger. ao two rifles flashed within a second of each other, ‘When the smoke drifted from before his eyes, the Vagabond saw that Black Bill was gone. He ran hastily to where he had stood, and peered over into the canyon, There lay the form of the desperado allina yer and motionless, he fall would have killed him, had not the bullet of the Vagabond done so, But anothe. sight met his eyes that brought a cry from his —_ He saw that Black Bill’s aim had also been true, for the miner lay upon the ground where he had fallen from bis seat, Hastily the Vagabond made his way down into the cabia, and to the side of the miner, whose eyes met bis own. : ‘* Thank Heaven you are not dead! ‘** But I killed him,” he cried, **Then you did not—” **Oh, no! no! don’t wrong me, “Yonder lies Black Bill, and I fired upon him as he shot at you. ‘**Would that Icould have shot an instant oy il : é ; ‘Forgive me, my friend, for I wronged you.” The eyes closed, and the Vagabond toned that the miner was dead, But he rallied, and was taken to his cot, bis clothing cut away and the wound examined. The bullet had entered the right side, and te downward, having been shot froma lofty ight, A search revealed that it had glanced on the a bone and cut its way out. t might be fatal, and yet there might be a chance of recovery. The miner, baving had experience in surgery, diagnosed his own wound, and said; **}t is impossible to say now what internal in- jury has been done; but we must soon know.” hen he gave instructions to the Vagabond just what todo for him, and he was made as comfortable as was possible in that lone place, Then the Vagabond went out of the cabin and with pick and shovel dug a grave for Black Bill, His weapons, and what else he posséssed, he appropriated, and going off on his trail found the horse of the desperado and turned bim in the canyon with the animalsof the miner, and which had been made into a secure corral that was a good pasturage by felling trees here and there at open places. The Vagabond then returned to the cabin and found the wounded miner asleep. hen he awoke it was late in the night, and he was restless with fever, and began to talk at random, The Vagabond began to fear the worst, but he was a good nurse and devoted himself by day and night to the wounded man, The miner’s little case\of medicines came in well, and Roy Rockford understood enough of the use of drugs to aid the sufferer all he could, When Borden Branch slept, he would go out and kill some game, bring wood and water, and do what couking was necessary; but when the page -oead was awake, whether it was day or night, he was constantly by his side, The wounds, where the bullet entered and cut its way out were carefully dressed, and the patient was kept as still as possible. _ As the days passed and the wounds progressed well,the fever abated and one day Borden Branch awoke with a clear mind, . He glanced around him curiously, and his eyes fell upon the face of his faithful nurse, now’pale and haggard from constant attendance. **T have been sick,” he said. ‘Yes, you were wounded by Black Bill.” ** Tremember. “Was it yesterday?” “No; but you are doing well, and must keep quiet.” o ook badly.” _ 4 am all right; but you must not talk, or you will bring on your fever again,” ‘ ‘ PA ynere had fever then?” ** Tell me how long I have been ill and I will ask no more.” ‘* Nearly a month.” The wounded man gave a slight start, but taking the glass of water hand2d to hini, drank it and sunk to sleep, He slept for hours and awoke much refreshed. Feeling his pulse, he said: “The wound was not fatal, aud I will get well; but I owe it, sir, to your devoted nurs- ing. ** You have not told me your name.” “Tam knownas the Vagabond of the Mines,” was the reply, in a bitter tone. ‘** You have another?” ‘Yes, my name is Roy Rockford.” ‘*Roy Rockford! Roy Rockford! how strange, how very strange,” and thus saying the name and words over and over again, the wounded man sunk again into a deep sleep. When he awoke the Vagabond hada good cup of deer soup egy for him, and the miner ate with a relish, after which he said: **’You have saved my life, Mr. Roy Rockford, and I have something to say to you.” CHAPTER XXIV. THE DISCOVERY. More than a week passed away, and Borden Branch improved steadily, He was very weak, and the Vagabond plotted and planned continually to get him up tempting meals, and it was no easy task to vary the bill of fare from such a meager supply. Deer meat, birds or squirrel, with rice, crack- ers, hoe-cakes, and coffee were all the standbys, and yet the Vagabond managed to keep up the supply and vary it considerably. At last the miner was able to move about, The wounds were healed and gave him no pain, and his health was improving; but he was still very much emaciated and weak, _ One night the two men sat together in the cabin, before a cheerful fire, for the nights were growing chilly. Neither had spoken for some time, and the miner broke the silence with: ** So your name is Roy Rockford?” ** Yes, sir.” *‘ There can hardly be two men of that name.” ‘“*T never heard of any other.” ‘** You are from the East?” “ Yes,” “Do you know that I have that name at the head of a list?” ‘* At the head of what kind of a list?” asked the Vagabond in surprise. “* A list of names.’ ‘**f am at a loss to understand,” and the Vaga- bond began to grow uneasy, his face flushing and paling by turns, ** Let us understand each other, Mr. Rockford, for you are the man I want.” The Vagabond grew more and more anxious, ord ng voice dropped to a hoarse whisper as he asked: ‘*The man you want?” $$ \¥éa,7 ‘* What for?” .“* You seem worried, and it is not my wish to give you patos but do you know a man by the name of nard Delorme?” ‘Leonard Delorme !” and with the utterance of the name he sp to his feet. *‘ DoI know him? Yes! I know him but too well.” . “* He is dead, and—” ‘Miner Branch, let me tell you what I know of Leonard Delorme,” and the words of the man rung now, while his eyes flashed. ‘** That man was my friend, and I loved him as I would a brother. ‘“* He was my senior in years, but we were much together. ‘* He was rich and enjoyed life with a fortune left him by his parents. _‘*I was comparatively poor, had a good. situa- tion however, and had saved upa few thousands, “I gave it to Delorme as others gave him their all, to invest, and I found that be had speculated, or spent in wild extravagance all he had, and 7? Reet of my money and that of others too. _‘* My mother had a little home, and my situa- tion paid me well, so I did not despair, and I for- gave Delorme the wrong done me, “But one night a murder was committed— a rich gentleman, supposed to have a large sum of money with him was murdered, and astrange fatality turned suspicion upon me. ** I could not prove an alibi. Circumstantial evidence pointed to my guilt, and I was tried, found guilty and would have been hanged but pen my sentence was changed to imprisonment or lite, “I went to prison a crushed, a broken-hearted LL A nn man, and from that day my mother began to- break down. ‘*To my amazement some three years ago I. was pardoned by the governor: yes, pardoned, mind you, for a crime I had not been guilty of. *T went to my home, and arrived just ip time to see my wother die. . ‘* You will think it strange, as I did, when IL tell you that my mother, dying as she was, had. a dream, and in that dream saw the murderer cf Carl Caradine, and she told me who it was, ‘“*T was horrified, but I knew when I heard who it was, that there could be no mistake, for a thousand little things, before never thought. of, came to me to. prove the truth of that dream, “It was Leonard Delorme, and I knew that. the man who kad robbed me, had slain Carl Caradine, and, to save himself, had sacrificed. me, “He had brought untold misery upon me,. had caused my mother to die of a broken heart, and, the day I was pardoned, I vowed to he avenged upon bim. : “T sold my little home, songht to find him,. and tracked him West. ‘“*T was a long time upon the trail, my money gave out, and I sold my fine horse and arms, in fact everything, for I would not beg, and still kept on his track. **T followed him here the day he departed for the East, and—well, you know that I killed him, and you know that I also shct at you. “T did not kill you, thank God! but I came: here to do so, and—why need I say more, for you know all.” ; , ‘“My poor unfortunate friend, you have in- deed suffered terribly; but let me tell you, cruelly as Leonard Delorme wronged you, he was not as bad as you deemed him. *T never met bim until the day he was: killed, ‘IT came here to the West with a shadow up- on my heart, not to seek a fortune, for I have one; but I loved this roving life of solitude and peril. **To me, when dying, Delorme intrusted the- seeret of his mine, yet did not tell me all. ‘* He told me he had wronged seme, and wish- ed to atone, so he gave mea list of names, and I was to pay to them, with full legal interest to date, the amount opposite each name, **One name was that of the daughter of the discoverer of this mine, anc she was to get half of its panning out, the other half to go to me,. after I had paid the claims on the list. ‘* Your name was there, and opposite the sum: of five thousand dollars, with date of loan and interest at ten per cent., which now brings it up- to nearly eight thousand dollars. ‘“When you fired upon me, for I now know that you did so, and bear, you see, your scar,, I was stunned, and my horses went where they willed for an hour or so, ‘*But I came here, and, after finding all as: Delorme had stated it to be, I counted up the dust on hand and saw that there was a goodly fortune indeed. ‘*T then wrote letters to each one whose name was on the list, asking them to send me a letter and affidavit of their identity, and asking where I should send a draft for the amount due them, *“*T wrote to you, with the others, and to the heiress who is with me in the mine, and hearing from all but two, sent their money, ‘*Tt was time for me to hear from those two,. ourself and the heiress, before I met you, and, was intending to go to the camps to get letters, when I was taken ill and detained a few weeks, ‘““Then, as I was preparing to start the next day, 1 met you, and so months have passed, and I suppose my fair correspondent cannot under- stand my delay in again writing her. ‘ ‘* Now, Mr. Rockford, I am ready to pay into your hands the amount due you to date, and then, as 1am not able to travel, I must ask you to go tothe camps and get my letters, at the same time mailing one explaining delay, *¢ When I shall huve paid the heiress ber share: to date, I will feel greatly relieved, I assure ou,” 7 The Vagabond had listened in deepest silence te all that the miner said, and when he had fin- ished, he responded: “Gladly will I serve you in any way, my dear friend, and I will start to-morrow, for you are _ well enough for me to leave you alone. . ‘*But poor Delorme! after all, he was not so. bad, anti now I know he is the one that got Gov- ernor Sprague to pardon me, for they were boys together; but the governor would tel] me no more than that he had become assured of my innocence of the crime. ‘ ‘“‘T have a bitter grief to bear in my heart for: taking the life of Leonard Delorme,” and rising: 4 “ *
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ee SS" ae ose ats 2 nn a rm en ng 0 a mmr naa? i iF ale ce ia ie a STEEL ee eT ee WETIONT RE CRE Se oot cca aa ena comet caine een Sd pes . ; i " es! 4 r AS . : 34 The Vagabond of the Mines. i 4 —————————OoO——— 00 SOSBBRBR)[\VR(RE=qym—a>[anaa=aamas1 from me, sir, for I have been badly wounded, quickly the Vagabond left the cabin and paced | complete, only he declined the service of a to and fro in the chill night air, his brain burn- guide. and, out for this gentleman, Mr. Rockford, ing with bitter memories. He seemed to depend upon himself against would have died. : : all advice that somebody would kill him before * Only to-night we were arranging for him to Lp? CHAPTER XXV. many days. go to Gold Dust City and send a letter to Mrs. A STRANGER IN THE CAMP. If he, himself, had such an idea, it did not aynell, and get letters that must be there for i THERE were a number of mining-camps, | deter him from the purpose he had in view. me from her.” et _along the mountain] range, where the agabond The stranger was none other than Edgar Du- ‘There are letters there for you, Mr. Borden—” AE had so tirelessly tracked his foe. mont, the young detective. He certainly had “My name, sir, is Borden Branch, and I P| Among these camps, was the one which the | begun his work well upon reaching Gold Dust | signed it differently in writing to Mrs. Maynell, Aa stage coach of the Overland passed through | City, for he had cultivated the laandlord of the | for reasons I do not care to make known.” Tee every two weeks, bringing the mail, or at least | Palace Hotel, who was, in turn, both miner and The detective smiled, but said pleasantly: abe: “Tam glad to meet you, Mr. Brauch, and tae once a month, for the mails on those wild and | postmaster, as well as storekeeper. perilous trails were by no means rgular in those Of course, Baldwin knew all the gossip of the | especially to know that you are not dead, as we t bee oa camps, as well as any man who bad bought | all feared, after your letter referring to the fate “ie his camp was known as Gold Dust City, and | goods at his store in the past few years, or stop- | of Mr. i and Mr. Delorme.” _ ra it was a distributing point for the other mining | ped at his hotel. “And I am glad to meet you, sir, and can ; - settlements. When he saw that Buck was to be trusted, | assure you that you have accomplished a won- Itconsisted of a few shanties, one of which | Dumont let him into the secret that he was a | derful feat in finding me bere as you have, Bi was known as the Palace Hotel, and with as | detective, and wished all the information he “‘ Youare mounted, of course, and not alone?” he” muck propriety could be so called as could the | could get of an old miner by the name of May-| “I am alone, sir, and my horse is not far — ae camp be dubbed a city. nell, another known as Leonard Delorme, anda iets 44 The Palace Hotel consisted of half a dozen | third who bad answered to the name of B. “ Your name, please?” shanties in a row, one being used as a store, and | Borden. ‘“‘ Edgar Dumont.” ; En another for a bar and gambling saloon, while The result of these inquiries were most gratify- ‘Permit me to present my friend, Mr. Rock- 5 fh the other two did duty as a hotel, more properly ing to the young detective, for Landlord Buck, | ford, who, as I am not very strong, will show Se called a lodging house. asthe miners called him, told him that there | you where to put your horse, and we will have a The store had in it the post-office, and the | were letters in bis office for Leonard Delorme, | supper for you.” Se ile landlord of the Palace hotel was also store- | B. Borden and Borden Branch. ‘f found your corral by the neigbing of one a keeper, postmaster and ran the bar and gam- He remembered that there had been an old | of your horses, so if Mr. Rockford will kindly Ah ‘ling saloon, while he was also interested in| miner by the name of Caspar Maynell, and | find me something to eat, I'll put my horse in mining, and consequently was a very important | upon the register was found the name of Borden the corral and soon return.” Pe personage of Gold Dust city. Branch, : This he did, and, after a hearty supper, the i (tive ; One afternoon the stage rolled up to the door This part Dumont jotted down, for Buck had | young detective told the story of his having : oa _of the Palace Hotel bringing a small mail-pouch | said that the latter was a man who was mining | been engaged to find the ‘*Man of Mystery,” and one passenger. somewhere in the mountains, had cerried gold | who seem to be in possession of the Maynell- " That passenger was a young man who had | in quantities away by the coach, and had secured | Delornie Mine, and related bis numercus adven- several sacks of baggage, instead of trunks or letters addressed to B. Borden as well as Borden | tures while tracking him to his Jair. ig Ai i Having heard all, and congratulated the ae grips. Branch. é He sprung down from the box, where he had ‘* A number had come to the latter address, but ; young detective upon his secret-service work, Borden Branch said: ; ‘ _ been acting as driver, for Josh Sloan, the driver, | several were then in the office for B, Borden.” : ; had one arm in a sling, and there wasa red stain Upon looking at the latter Edgar Dumont “T notice that you refer to Mrs. Mcynell, as Gheo re ch upon it, too, showing that there had been trouble | recognized the writing .of the governess, Cara | Miss Maynell?” lee ar of some kind on the road. Maynell. “Yes, for she is Miss Maynell.” 2 ae The young man entered the Palace Hotel, car- Then he came to the conclusion that B, Borden ‘‘No, she surely married her cousin, Calvin (2) Ghas ‘ rying his traps with him; and, well dressed, | and Borden Branch were one and the same Maynell?” : a ES ‘No, she expected to marry bim, but the very nd + person, Buck then remembered that a miner named evening of the day they were to be married, he Larry, dwelling in another camp, had spoken committed suicide.” ah of a man who had a paying mine back in the ““My God! can _ this be true?’ and Borden ae | mountains. Branch sprung to his feet. ) +} So the detective, armed with these facts, “ Mr, Branch, it is the duty of a detective to ie 3% sought Larry, got the locality of the stranger’s | be thoroughly posted, so my chief, when sending 4 AR me on this trail, had not time to look up the =; Paar) r; but he did so after Ee pe baudsome, and with a free-and-easy air about him, he attracted general attention from those } -about the station. Ruee <. * Who is he, Josh?” asked Buck Baldwin, rae i <‘ Who are he?’ and the driver gave the land- ce: lord a curious look. \ ‘Yes, and what’s ter pay, fer you’re wounded ? - “ Of course [ is, fer 1 got shooted in the arm; " , “but thet pilgrim as who you axes who are he eat | jist tarned up ther toes o’ ther road-stripper as ile! give me ther wound; and more—it are through thet same chap that ther mails is saved, and our _lives, too, mine from bim, and set out to find it. Just ten days after, Dumont was about to gO record of our fair employe into camp one night, as it was growing dark, | my departure and a letter followed me to Gold- . when he heard the neigh of a horse. Dust City. : t He checked bis own animal from answering ‘* His letter stated that Miss Maynell bad been ee) | to whom she was na i it, but, going in the direction from whence the | engaged to an army officer, S devotedly attached, but ber fatber needed ‘* Who is he? : sound had come, found three animalsin a canyon, : M Cs ae ‘‘ Well, he’s lightnin’ on a tear.” the entrance to which bad been harred by sap- | money to tide him over, and forced ber, in order ithe, oN “Tell us about it, Josh,” cried half a dozen lings cut down and made into a rude fence. to save bim from ruin, to say she woule marry = -yoices in chorus, de crept cautiously forward, and soon came her cousin, who was sup to be very rich. ey, ek “Thar hain’t muck ter tell, cepting thet ther | in view of a small cabin. “She made the sacrifice, wrote adismissalto | He heard voices witbin, and, revolver in hand, her soldier lover, and the day wes set for ber clo Rar ae -yoad-strippers jumped us, and a dozen strong, too, they war. “'Thet young gamecock war on ther box with “me, and at ther call o’ hands up, he dropped - ther feller as called ther words, “Waal, they was tuk back, as I was, too; but he laid on ther silk and ther horses jumped -abead, and got ter goin’ afore ther strippers '.ou’d understand it. “But, they Varnt quick and let us have it maps up to the door and listened. marriage; but her cousin, Calvin Mayrell,had hat he heard seemed to reassure him, for, squandered his wealth, committed forgery to 53 after some little time, he knocked at the door. tide over until he married his suppose to be fa Silence at once reigned within for a moment; | rich, cousin, and the officers came to arrest him ri then came tbe demand in a stern voice: the day of bis marriage, as his crime was diss ‘¢ Well, who is there.” covered. That disgrace caused him to Dhow: (Hs: “A friend. I saw your light and came here | cut his brains. aca to find quarters for the night,” was the response. “It was known that the officer she wasem- The door suddenly opened, but no one within | gaged to had resigned and gone abroad, and the’ © yr; _ ‘hot, and I got it here as yer see, and 1 seen ther | was visible, and a stern voice said: papers even had the report of Miss Maynell’s re _galoot as shot me. ‘* Step in, friend !,” ¥ | marriage to her cousin. PARA jah “ And Gamecock seen him, too, fer he jist let —_—— ‘‘Her father failed, and in despair, left bis “him have it in ther center o’ ther forebead, and CHAPTER XXVI. daughter to earn her own living, while hecame =— THE MAN OF MYSTERY. west. ~Neli -then he laid on ther whip ag’n, and tuk ther -reins from me, fer I were next to no good; - that’s how we is here.” The crowd at once went in to have a look at “the stranger, while Jack Sloan went to * git Tue young detective boldly stepped into the | “You, sir, know the rest, as also who was cabin. the army officer to whom Miss Maynell was en- He had replaced his pistol in his belt and thus ; was at the mercy of those within, who were concealed from his view. Captain Branch.” gaged. ; ahd “ You see I have followed my trail to the end, Bas 5 doctored,” as he said, for a miner who had been ral .a physician lived not far from the rs “ Who are you?” asked a man, closing the God bless you!” was the only reply that — ‘there was something in the look of the stran- | door and confronting him, Borden Branch made. ay ‘“* My name is Edgar Dumont—a New_York —— o Satlie ald detective, seeking one B. Borden or Borden Need the reader be told that the finding of Branch, which ever name suits best. Are you Borden Branch, the Man of Mystery, by Edgar ~ the man?” and the detetcive looked the man be Dumont, in the end brought together two lov- addressed fully in the face. ing hearts, and that wither Allene St. Jobn ‘No, I am not the one you seek.” it was acase of love at frst sight for the band- “ But Lam, for my name is Borden Branch.” | some young detective—a love that was so sin: “What do you wish with me? and Borden | cerely returned that in rat after she became Branch stepped from behind the cover of the the bride of the Texan, whose adventures, before | large chimney place. he won bis bride, would make a most exciting — ‘“*T come, sir, from one who rcceived a letter | romance. from you, some time ago, and not again hearing | I think, too, the reader has surmised that fi true love ran smoothly in those two cases, and from you, as you had promised she should, sent : ‘ 4 M so I need only add that Roy Rockford, one time _ger that kept the hangers-on from being inquis- - Ttive as to his business in Gold Dust City, so } they took it out in admiring him. f, he next day, however, Buck Baldwin said “the stranger was on a hunt for gold, had gradu- ated at some college, said he knew a rock when he saw it, and was going to prospect for dust in Sei I mountains. ‘bak He wanted to buy a good horse, and of course Buck had the very animal he needed, so a bar- _gain was soon consummated. : But the young man spent a week in camp ere a he departed on his gol -hunting, and before he . “left, as some of the loafers remarked, he and the | me to find you.” . landlord had become “thick as thieves and| ‘Ab! you refer to Mrs, Maynell?” the Vagabond of tbe Mines, cared notto go Hast, — twice as friendly.” “T refer to Miss Cara Maynell, sir; but, you | but remé ining on the frontier also became & Man of Mystery to all who crossed bis trail = look i he stranger then started off on his gold-hunt, i ig “That is why Mrs. Maynell bas not heard THE END. . 4, See _ -tind-be went well-prepared, for his outfit was, Yeu agea fe "rie a
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iw BEADLE'S+ H ALF-DIME* LIBRARY. Published Hvery Tuesday. Each Isswe Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY OLL COOMES. - 5 Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. ie 18 The Dumb Spy. : 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. i 81 Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. jf 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 58 The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. a 6 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. “4 Bi 74 Hawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper Ranger. 88 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. 48 Sear-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter, 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 158 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. f 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit ‘Trapper. | 182 Little Murricane, the Boy Captain. %y 202 Prospect Pete ; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters, A Py 208 The Boy Mercules: or, The Prairie Tramps, , 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. ys 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. ee 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 1s 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger mE 248 The Disguised Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger. ane, 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. td 272 Minkskin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. iM 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 800 The Sky Demon; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger, By 884 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero, Di f 409 Hercules; »r, Dick, the Boy Ranger. | A1lTZT Webfoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. +) 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of thé Yellowstone. ei 444 Little Buckakin, tne Young Prairie Centaur. a; 457 Wingedfoot Fredy; or, Old Polar Saul. ay 468 Tamarac Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. ik 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic. fe! 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. 4 ? $62 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. 652 Don Barr, the Plains Freelance, 661 Old Kit Bandy’s Deliverance. 670 Norway Nels, the Big Boy Mountaineer. 6 680 Dauntless Dan, the Freelance, or, Old Kit Bandy in Arcadia, BY BUCKSKIN 8AM (Major Sam. 8, Hall.) i ‘284 Old Rocky «** Reoyeess or, Benito, the Horse-Breaker he 246 Glant George; or, The Ang’! of the Range, , 275 Arizona Jack ; or, Giant George’s Pard, 297 The Tarantula of thew! or, Giant George’s Revenge, - y B07 The Strange Pard; or, Little Ben’s Death Hunt. , Bis ama 3 Ker-whoo} or, The Tarantula of Taos. 3 B2Tz Creeping Cat, the Caddo; or, The Red and White Pardes. 882 Frio Fred; or, The Tonkaway’s Trust. B44 The Fighting Trio; or, Rattlesnake, the Tonkaway. B49 Wild Wolt: or, Big-Foot Wallace to the Front, t B57 The Ranch Raiders; or, The Siege of Fort Pargatory, ‘ 864 Snap-Shot, the Boy Kanger. \ BiS Chiota, the Creek; or, The Three Thunderbolts. BSL Bandera Bll; or. Frio Frank to the Front. Me" 2% B92 Romeo and the Reds; or, The Beleaguered Ranch, ‘ -404 Little Lariat; or, Pecan Pete’s Big Rampage, -414 The Dalay from Denver. The Three Tratlera; or, Old Rocky on the Rampage, . & 442 Bluff Bill; or, The Lynx of the Leona. ae 455 Little Lone Star: or, The Belle of the Cibolo, oa 684 Cache Carl, the Chico Giart F BY PHILIP 8. WARNE. 67 Patent-Leather Joe; or, Old Rattlesnake, the Charmer. ne 175 Capra Arizona; or, Patent-Leather Joe's Big Gane, ‘= 198 Captain Mask; or, Patent-Leather Joe’s eat. ; ‘219 Despard, the Duelist; or, The Mountain Vempires. f 8388 A Tou h Boy 3 or, The Dwarf’s Revenge. AR BES Little Tornado; or, The Outcasts of the Glen. 5 BIR Little Jingo; or, the Queer Pard. j ; 8 Little Oh-my 3 or, Canght in His Own Trap, Ae.’ tee O1 Little Bhoo Fly or, A Race for a Ranch. wih: 408 Little LeathersBrevehes 3 or, Old Jumbo’s Curse. -481 Little Ah Sing or, The Curse of Blood. ; Colorado Kate. A Tale of the olines. hree Jolly Parda. m Gladden’s Deputy. he Jolly Pards to the Rescue. A _ 47 Sandy Andy; or, A Good Man Down. Prati B56 ariat Lil; or, The Cast fora Life. | TA Old Weasel-top, the Man with the Dogs, 16 So ier 598 Keen Clem, the Ranch Imp. toe: +99 Jim Dandy the No-Name Sport. \ et? Ole Oka Blazes; or, The Skeleton’s Legacy. “> “ 17. ee een B2T +4 Sxlshene 1 ae bg soe Scout. Hap arry’s 3 664 Cheeky Chaviey, the Special. -“_ t the Boy Champlon of the Moskingam, eatherweight Beate the Outlaws. tive; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp. . 295 Fearless Phil; or, The King of Quartzville. -; 11, The Moving Rperts or, The Pride of Chuckaluck Camp, 399. Nemo, t etive; or, Kit Kenyon's Vendetta. 840 Clip the Contortionist: or, The BY JO PIERCE, _ B9T Bob o’ the Bowery ; or, The Prince of Mulberry Street. 415 The Vagabond Detective; or, Bowery Bob’s Boom, 452 Wotspur Bob, the Street-Boy Detective. By 460 The Lawyer’s Shadow; or, Luke’s Legacy, 472 Jaunty Joe, the Young Horse-King. 494 Surly Sim, the Young Ferryman Detective, 04 Five Pointe Phil, 9 Jack Jagrers, the Butcher Boy Detective, ~~ &16 Tartar Tig or, Five Points Phil's Menagerle, $26 North River Nat, the Pier Detective, 5&8 Wrestling Rex, the Pride of the Sixth Ward, 641 Jeff Flicker. the Stable Boy Detective. (651 Nick Nettle, the Boy Shadow. «BBY. Harlem Jack, the Office Boy Detective, B89 Brooklyn Ben, the On-His-Own-Hook Detective, | BIT Pavement Pete the Secret Sifter. Hd ae ¢k-o’-Lantern, the Under-Sea Prospector, RO Wide-Awake Bert, the Street-Steerer. 614 Whistling Jacob, the Detective’s Aid. 628 Buck Bumblebee, the Harlem Hummer. 689 Sunrise Saul, the Express-Train Ferret. 649 Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger: or, Scooping a Slippery Set, 658 Sky-Rocket Rab, the Life-Saver. ‘S $94 Saltpeter Sol, the New York Navigator. f ix pley Jim, the Only One of His Kind. 706 Tom Thistle, the Road-House Detective. BY J. W. OSBON, 9 The Rival ts of har’. S Oprdee een taes eee Leck. 7 Old Buckeye, the Sierra Shadow. 4 Powder Phil, the Boy Miner. 9 Boy. pert he Veteran Loinagg 49 - 4. Littie Ligh « Lea r, Lystery oftne Islan B38 Plucky Baul, the Boy Propane sane t ; J i BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes ofa Bowery Girl. 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. 79 Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. 288 Joe Buck of Angels and His Buy Pard. 447 New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and Traps in Gotham. 458 New oy 94 Nick; or, The Fortunes of a Foundling, 464 Nimble Nick, the Circus Prince. 498 Taos Ted, toe Arizona Sport. 510 Cool Colorado, the Hall-Breed Detective. 518 Cool Colorado in New York. BY GEORGE WALDO BROWNE. 86 Dandy Rock the Man from Texas. 90 The Dread Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. 99 The Tiger of Taos; or, Dandy Rock’s Angel. 115 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom. 181 The Golden Hand; or, Dandy Rock to the Reseue, 164 Dandy Rock’s Pledge; or, Hunted to Death. 178 Dandy Rock’s Rival; or, The Haunted Maid of Taos. BY CAPT. J. F. ©. ADAMS, 84 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Whiffies’s Boy Spy. 46 Glass-Eye, the Great Shot of the West. 54 Ned Hazel, the Boy Trapper. 56 Nick Whifies’s Pet; or, In The Valley of Death. 60 The White Indian; or, The Scout of the Yellowstone, ZO Old Zip’s Cabin; or, The Greenhorn in the Woods, 81 Lightning Jo, the Terror of the Prairie. 85 Buck Buckram } or, Bess, the Female Trapper, 247 Old Grizzly and Mis Peta; or, The Wild Huntre 251 Light-house Lige: or, Osceola, the Firebrand. 257 The Lost Hunters; or, The Underground Camp, 288 The Scalp King; or, The Human Thunderpolt, BY ROGER STARBUCK. 25 The Boy Captain; or, The Pirate’s Daughter. 114 The Black Schooner; or, Jib Junk, the Old Tar. 259 The Golden Harpoon ; or, Lost Among the Floes. 848 Fire-Heels; or, Old Skinflint, the Death-Shadow. 854 Big Horn Ike, the Hill Tramp; or, The Odd Pards, 861 The Phantom Light-house, 870 Breaker Ben, the Reef-Runner. BY WILLIAM R. EYSTER, 190 Dandy Darke; or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 Faro Frank; or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pards BY ©. DUNNING CLARE. 185 Captain Paul; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains. 280 The Yankee Rajah; or, The Fate of the Black Shereef. BY GEORGE ©. JENKS. 485 Git Thar Owney the Unknown, 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. 518 The Demon Doctor. 581 Double-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Pstective. HS Flute, the Singer Detective, 608 The Pitcher Detective’s Fotl; or, Dan’s Double Play. 616 The Ocean Detective: or. The Last Cruise of the Black Boar, 681 The Pitcher Detective’s Toughest Tussel. BY CAPT, ALFRED B. TAYLOR U, 8. A. 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Buffalo Bill's Bet; or, The Gambler Guide. BY WM. @. PATTEN. 489 The Diamond Sport; or, The Double Face of Bed Rock, 519 Captain Mystery ; or, Five in One, 581 Dalsy ware the Sport from Denver. 587 Old Bombshell, the Ranger Detective. 604 Iron Fern, the Man ot Fire. 619 The Boy Tramp Detective: or, The Double Grip Witness 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Spor. 641 Dismal Dave’s Dandy Pard. 651 Bound Boy Frank, the Young Amateur Detective 66% Violet Vane’s Victory. 682 Wild Vulcan, the Lone-Range Rider, 69R Violet and Daisy, the Posy Pards. 705 Violet Vane’s Vow; or, The Cratty Deteetive’s Craft. BY MAJOR E. L. 8T. VRAIN, 292 Sancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit. 801 Leadville Nick the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince. 838 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quartette, 52 Dombstone Tom, the Arizona Boy of Sand.” 859 Durango Dave, the Young Champion Wrestler, 871 Kingbolt Chria, the Yung Hard-Shel! Detective. 880 Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountuin Mail-Line. BY EDWARD 8. ELLIS, 6 Bill Biddon, rp Tr. 8 Seth Jones; or, -” Captives of the Frontier. © Nat Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. 21 ‘rne Frontier An : ; 1. 98 The Boy Winéees cr, The Enchanted Island. 182 The Hunted Hunters or, The Strange Horseman, 254 The Half-Blood; or, The Panther of the Plains. 271 The Huge Hunter} or, The Steam Prairie Man, / BY MAJOR LEWIS W. CARSON, 278 The Three Trappers) or, The Mountain Monster. 288 Indian Joe; or, The White Spirit of the Hills. BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, aes Young Kentuck; or, The Red Lasso. 270 Blizzard Ben}; or, The Riot at Keno Camp. 286 Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot. BY BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG. 89 Island Jim: or, The Pet of the Family. 91 The Captain of the Club; or, The Rival Athletes. 101 Jack Harkaway in New York. BY MAJOR HENRY B. STODDARD, Ex-Scout, 806 Neck-Tie Ned}; or, The Dug-Ont Pards. 846 Pe ler Raphael; or, The Swordsmen of Zacatecas. 891 Kid-Glove Kit, the Dandy of the Rockies. 406 The Mad Mun-Muntert cr, The Seiden Guleh Myst a an-Hun or, The Go s 505 Powell's Pard} or, The One-Armed Giant. eae _ BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER. Page: or, The Doge’s Deughter. 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Exptes Biter.” ; a ay Ce en ae ado ar wor unters; or, ofthe 5 159 The Lost Captain; oe Skipper Taber Coffin’s | ise. 200 The Boy Bedoultns; or, The Broth f thé Plumed 214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. os 249 Milo Romer the Animal King; or, Round the World. 265 The Tt T The League of th &t Black Nick, eee Bee, 895 California Joe's War Trall. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Yellowstone Jack; or, The bos ay 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat, 65 Hurricane Bil; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard. 119 Mustang Saw } or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-tinwk Kit; or, The Daugiiter of the Ranch. 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 160 The Black Glant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy, 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. : 184 The Boy Trailers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path, 208 The Boy Pards; or. Dainty Lance Unmasks. 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. 810 The Barranca Wolf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ League. 885 Old Double Fist}; or, The Strange Guide 855 The King of the Woods: or. Danie! Soone’s Last Trail. 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. 625 Chincapin Dan, the Boy Trailer. 677 Chinecapin Dan’s Second Trail, 688 Chincapin Dan’s Home Stretch. 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head, 708 Light-Heart Lute’s Legacy. BY W. J. HAMILTON, 68 The Red Brotherhood}; or, The Twelve Avengers. 66 bingte Mand}; or, A Life for a Life. 72 Mad Tom Weatern, the Texan Ranger. 887 Ben Bird, the Cave King; or, Big Pete’s Scoop. BY JACK FARRAGUT. 815 Ned, the Cabin Boy. 820 The Sea Sorceress; or, The Boy Skipper. BY LIEUT. H. D. PERRY, U. 8. N. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Buccaneer of the Bay. 180 The Sea Trailer; or, A Vow Well Kept. 192 Captain Kit; or, The Mystery of Montauk Point. BY COL, A. F. NOLT. 899 Black Buckskin; or, The Masked Men of Death Canyon, , 419 Kenneth, the Knife-King. 485 Littie Lightfoot, the Pilot of the Woods. 828 The Dandy sport; or, The King Pin Cons 678 Ralph Renwood, the Lightning Express 691 Headlight Harry’s Haul, BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 78 Blue Dicks or, The Yellow Chief's Vengeance. 87 The Land Pirates; or, The League of Devil’s Island, 187 The Helpless Handy or, Backwoods Retribution. 289 The Gold-seeker Guide! or, The Lost Mountain. “BY FREDERICK DEWEY 818 Cimarron Jack, the King-Pin of Rifle-Shots, 478 Tangemund, the Desert Detective. 542 The Canyon Pards, BY ARTHUR ©. GRISSOM. 440 Little Foxfoot, the Gold Bowle Kid. 558 The Sure-Shot Parda, 621 Truthful James, the “ Pecooliar” Man. BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS. 546 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock, 568 The Dandy of Dodge. 576 The Silver Sport. 588 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow 589 Tom-Cat and Pardj or, The Dead Set at Silver City. 601 Happy Hansa, the Dutch Vidocq. Gil Bildnd Barnacle, the Detective 622 Texas Tom-Cat’s Triad 681 Tom Cat’s Terrible Task. 688 Tom-Cat’s Triumph; or, Black Ivan’s Great Combine, 646 Cowboy Gid, the Cattle-Range Detective. 657 Warbling William, the Mountain Mountebank. 665 Jolly Jereminhs the Plains Detective. 676 Signal Sam, the kout Scout. 689 Billy the pay Spy. 699 Staple Sim, the Broncho Buster. 712 The Mesmerist Sport; or, The Mystified Detective. jrator. tective, rcules. ‘ MISOELLANEODUS AUTHORS, i 4 The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and , Frederick Whittaker, 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen. 12 Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift. 14 Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp. 16 Robinson Crusoe. (27 Illustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. 22 t Sa Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. By Juan wis ‘ 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribees. By 8S, W. Pierce. * 86 The Boy Clowns or, The Arena Queet. By F 8, Finn. | BS Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. 51 The Boy Rifles; or, The Und und Camp. By A. C. Irons, 95 The Rival Rovers; or, The ters of the Mississipp. By Lieut.-Col. Hazeltine. 98 Robin Hood, the Outlawed Earl; or, The Merry Men of Green- wood. By Prof. Gildersleeve. 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain | Hamilton Holmes. 112 The Mad Hunter; or, he Cave of Death. By Burton Saxe. | 124 Tippy, the Texans or, The Young Champion. By George , epson. ’ | 128 The Young Privateer; or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By | Harry Cavendish. 148 Sharp Sam} or, The Adventures of a Friendless Boy. By J. Alexander Patten. 227 Dusky Darrell, Trapper: or, The Green Ranger of the Yel- lowstone. By Edward De 261 Fergus Fearnaught the New Y irk Boy. By G. L, Aiken. 266 Killb’ar, the Guide; »%r, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail. By Ensign C. D, Warren. 298 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid of the Clif. By Captein Comstock. 817 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Lieo- tenant Alired Thorne. \ B28 The Sky Detectives or, A Boy’s Fight for Life and Honos. By Maior paver Fees. 850 Kea Ralph, the River Rover; or, The Brother’s Re- Ce ee eee the Dostblack £65 Baltimore Ben the ack Detective. A. P. Morris, Gold-Dust Tom; or, Ben’s Double Match. ¥ GH Morre. 874 876 Cailfornia Joe’s First Trail. By Colone) Thomas over Monstery. 418 iilly Bombshell, the Cliff Climber. By F. S. Winthrop. 475 The Black LS a By John S Wi a Parner. 484 Comanche Dick and His Three Invinelbles. By Henry J. Thomas. BSE Ariel the sikieue By David Deir se G82 The Dead Detective’s Double. By Gerald Carlon A New issue Every Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all newsdealers, fire @ents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. ‘ BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, | 98 William Street, New York, ee ene eee ~ “PARI ss + aline apes
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\ BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, Deadwood Dick Novels. 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Deadwood Dick’s Defiance; or, Double Daggers. ponawcce sed = Disgulees, or, Buffaly Ben. end woo ck in s Castle. = a | 4 aaah Lig eevee or, She —— Miner. endwoo ¢ n Danger; or, Omaha Oll. BZ Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 28 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity 4 :ne, the Heroine. 205 Noe pane oe Test Pia or, Corduroy Charlie. adwoo ek in Leadville. i Pendcess nee wevive be The Double Cross Sign. eadwoo ck as Detective. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost. 188 Deadwood Dick’s Home Base; or, Blonde Bill. 149 poadweet PS deh or, a ares of Gold. 156 Deadwood ick eae oe ine Rivals of the Ronde 201 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. ave onewees a ho tetrg Pel — Jane’s Adventure. eadwoo ck’s Dea eal. 221 Deadwood Dick’s Death-Plant. 282 Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Tonghs, aes Beadwoed pike Liebe +g pt ate Spirit of Swamp Lake. eadwood Dick’s Dea rail. ‘ 809 Deadwood Dick’s Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. $21 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. 247 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Days in the Diggings. pt peetrees Pam Renmmeos or, The Terrible Vendetta, e@ ° ck’s Claim. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. 410 Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds. 421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A “Cute Case.” byt peagweed Diek’a Past or, The Chained Hand. ead woo ek, Jr. 448 Dendwood Jr.’s, Defiance. 458 Deadwood » Jr’, Full Hand. 459 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Big Round-Up. 465 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Racket at Claim 10. 435 qasewers oy + Fe'By Carrels x, Lees Bill. eadwoo e r.’s, Dog Detective. 451 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Deadwood. 491 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Compact. 496 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Inheritance, h00 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Diggings. 508 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Deliverance. Bib Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Protegee. 522 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Three. 529 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Danger Dacka 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s) Death Hunt. B89 Peadwood Dick, Jr., in Texas. 544 Deadwood Bick sr ‘on Hts. Mettle. © ‘ endwoo ck, Jr., on His Mettle. bDb4 Deadwood Dick, Jr-, in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Boston. h67 Dendwood Dick, Jr., in Philadelphia, B72 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago, B78 Deadwood Dick. Jr., Afloat. bS4 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver. 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Decree. ooo posewees Los q Pes an nes prema. eadwoo ek, Jr., at Coney Island, 606 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Leadville Lay. 612 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Detroit. 618 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Cincinnati. 624 Deadwood Dick. Jr., In Nevada, 680 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land. 686 Deadwood Dick, Jr., After the Queer. 642 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Buffalo. iv qonaveee viet? ph ely ey the Commnene eadwoo ck, Jr., Among the Smugglers. 660 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Teel choo Cate 666 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Back in the Mines. 672 Deadwood Dick, Jr., tn Durango; or, “Gathered In.”” oa peed woes mee 5 ain piscevery’ or, Found a Fortune. end wo ek, Jr.'s. e. 690 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s- Dollars. 695 Desdwood Dick, Jr., at Danger Divide. 700 Desdwood Dick, Jr.'s, Drop. 704 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Jack-Pot. 710 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in San Francisco, Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woolf’; or, The Girl Dead-Shot, 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York, 45 Old Avelauahe} or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, b3 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn BM} or, The Red Rifle Team. 69 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter; or, The Boy Detective. 80 Rosebud Tob or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. R4 13}, the Girl Miner} or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Pheto: ap Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance. 92 Can ry rid et 3 or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 96 Watch-Eye ; or, Arabs and Angels of a Great City. 118 Jack Hosle the Young Speculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 421 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner. 188 Boss Bob the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada or, The Sierras Scamps. 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The V entril 226 Snoozer, the Boy Sharp; or, The Arab 286 Apollo Bit, the Trail Tornado. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator. uist Hunter. etective, Victory. 255 Denver Doll's Decoy 5 or. Little Bill’s Bonanza. Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or. The Road Queen. Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville. or, The Mysterious Miver, lass Fred, the Gent from Gopher. R68 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gathererg or, The Life Lottery, 885 Yreka Jim’s Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nose. 889 Bicycle Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode. . 894 Yreka J f Yuba Dam. Oe Wrinkles, the Night-Wateh Detective. J 8 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. 486 Sealskin Sam, the Sparkler. 102 Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Smuggier. 111 The Bea-Devil ity 5 116 The Ihussar pgs 3 or, The Hermit of Hell Gate, 197 Little Grit; or, 204 Gold Plume; or, Buffalo Bill, the Pony Ex 216 Bison Bll, the Prince of the Reins; or, 222 Grit, the B 229 Crimson Kate; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy 3; or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The M 264 The Fleeting Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure, 269 The Gold Sh 276 Merle Monte 280 Merle Monte’s Fate ; or, Pear! 284 The Sea Marauder; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. 804 The Dead Shot Dandy $ or, Benito, the Boy Bugler. 808 Keno Kits or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. BEADLE'S« H ALF- DIME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, ® The Flying Yankee}; or, The Ocean Outcast. 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccancer; or, The Fugitive Yacht. 24 Diamond Dirk | Brad The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 62 The Shadow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenants. 25 The Boy Dnelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea- Wolf, 3 or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. essie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. ress Rider, uffalo Bill’s Pluck. ravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer. idshipman Mutineer}; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer, Ps 0% Merle, the Condemned. ‘a Orulse; or, “ The Gold Ship ” Chase, the Pirate’s Bride, $14 The Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Trail, 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rovers; or, The Fixgless Schooner, 888 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island. 887 Warpath WII, the Boy Phantom. 898 Seawalf, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Isodor, the Young Cosapirene? ; or, The Fatal League. 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. 412 The Wild Yachtaman} or, The War-Cloud’s Cruise, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, The Corsair. 487 The.Sea Ralder, 441 The Ocean Firefly ; or, A Middy’s Vengeance. 446 Haphazard Harrys or, Tne Scapegrace of the Sea, 450 Wizard Wills or, The Boy Ferret of New York. 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouts. 462 The Born Guide; or, The Saiior Boy Wanderer. 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster. A7A Flora; or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard, 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Will’s Last Case. AS7 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger. 495 Arizona doe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack, A497 Buck Taylor, King ot the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ¢ or, The Shark and the Sea Cat. 507 The Hunted Midshipman. 511 The Outlawed Middy. 520 Buckskin Bll, the Comanche Shadow, 525 Brothers in Buckskin. 580 The Buckskin Bowers. 585 The Bue skin Rovers. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder of 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. bSO Lafitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Son, 555 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee BUI, the Prairie Shadower. 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. 570 Camille, the Card Queen. 675 The Surgeon-Scout 5BSO The Outcast Cadet; or, bS6 The Buckskin Avenger. 691 Delmonte, the Young Sea. Rover. bY? The Young Texan Detective. 602 The Vagabond of the Mines. > 607 The Rover Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions. 617 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scouts or, The Rio Raiders. 644 The Hercules Highwayman. 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Kider Detective; or, Buffalo Bill’s Boy. Para. 656 Butterfly Billy’s Man Hunt. 662 Butterfly Billy’s Bonanza. 668 The Buccaneer Midshipman. 674 The Wizard Sailor; or, Red Ralph, the Rover. 679 The Sea Shadower; or, The Freeb»oter’s Legacy. 686 Orlando, the Ocean Free Flag; or, The Tarnished Name. 692 The Rival Sharps; or, Redfern, the Secret Service Scout, | 697 The Scarlet Sombrero: or, The Sharp from Texas. 702 Blue Jacket BIN; or, The Red Hat Rangers’ Red Hot Racket | 207. The Red Sombrero Rangers; or, Redfern’s Last Trail. | / the Rio. Detective. The False Detective, RY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm. F. Cody). 8 Kansas King; or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Bers or, The Pilot of the Prairie. B5 Deadly-Eye. the Unknown Sccut, 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Faney Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’o Trust. BY CHARLES MORRIS. 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective, 122 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Pete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. 80 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 42 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. ! Black Beas, Will Wildfire’s Racer. Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. Will Wildfire in the Woods. Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy, A Trump Card ¢ or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses. Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. \ 179 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, The Hidden Hand a Will Wildfire’s Revenge. 187 Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; cr, The Smugglers. 189 Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. in Shadowed ; or, Bob Kockett’s Fight for Life. 2 . 4 5 5 6 6 z z z 8 Aoeowwerwen 06 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 12 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. or, The Black Sheep of the Flock. 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky, 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. 252 Dick Dashawayt or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago. 262 The Young Sharps? or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail. 274 Jolly Jim; the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’ Jobs or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Mound: or, The Young Thoroughored. 805 Dashaway, of Dakotas or, A Western Lad ip Quaker City. $24 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective, 858 The he (an Coe POT NY or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard. R67 Wide-Awake Joe or, A Boy of the Times. 879 Larry, the Levelers or, The Bloods of the Boulevard. A408 Firetly Jack, the River-Rat Netective. 428 The Lost Finger}; or, The Entrapped Cashier. 428 Fred Flyer. the Reporter Detective. 482 Invinctble Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick, the Jolly Vaganond. 486 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive, \479 Detective Bedge s ‘or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Roots, the Boy Fireman: or, Teo Sharp for the Sharper, b66 The Secret Service Boy Detective. B96 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. 427 Tom Bruce of Arkananst or. The Wolfin the Fold. 655 Plucky Paul, the Boy Speculator. 667 Rob and Sam, the Daisy Detectives. 709 The Curbstone Detectives or, Horry Hale’s Big Beat. , i y ciaeaieaiaeatanita BY J, ©. COWDRICE, 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. 869 Shasta, the Gold King}; or, For Seven Years Dead. 420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without « Name. 424 Cibuta John} or, 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout, 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude. 490 Broadwa 606 Redlight Ralph, the Prince of the Road, 514 Broadway Bi 524 The Engineer 586 Broadway Billy’s 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective. 557 Broadway Billy’s Peath Racket. Be elie oy ‘he Chimney Spy; or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party 592 The Boy Pinkerton. 605 William 0’ Brondway3 or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning- 615 Fighting Harr 628 Broadwa 640 Barebsre 647 Typeviiter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgan, the “ Pizenest » Man of Ante Bar. 669 Broadway Billy Abroad. 675 Broadway Billy’s Best; or, Beating San Francisco's Finest, 687 Broadway Billy in Clover. 696 Broadway Billy in_Texas. 708 Broadway Billy’s Brand. 711 Broadway Billy at Santa Fe. ed-Hot Times at Ante Bar. Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 5 ee Boodle. etective. ‘pPiftikilty.” Luke the Young Engineer. the Chief of Chained Cyclone. Biliy’s Dead Act. Beth, the Centaur of the Circle, BY T. ©. HARBAUGH. 28 Nick o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of ’76. 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Little Hunter, 47 Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Ca tains, 64 Dandy Jack; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trait. 82 Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack ; or, The Boy Trapper. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 128 Kiown Charley the White Mostanger. 189 Judge Lynch, Jr.z or, The Boy Vigilante. 155 Gold Tr 169 Tornado 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkansaw ¢ or, The Queen of Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Tovknovs Crusade. = 281 Plucky Phil; or, Rosa, the Re| Jezebel. 241 Bill Bravos: or, Toe Roughs of the Rockies. 255 Captain Apolivs tne King-Pin of Bowie, 267 The buckskin Detective. 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes. 294 Dynamite d er, the Sport; er, The Girl Avengers ‘om 3 or, Injun Jack From Red Core. an} or, The Bowie Blade of Gochetopa. 02 The Mountain Detective: or, The Trigger Bar Bally. 8 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona, 826 The Ten Pardss or, The Terror of Take-Notice. 886 Ble Bensong or, The Queen of the Lasso. 845 Pitiless Matt; or, Red Thunderholt’s Secret. 856 Cool Sam and Par’; o° The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlass; or, the Beccaneer’s Girl\Foe. 896 Rough Rob; or, The fwin Champions of Blue Blazes, 411 The Silken Laseo: or, The Rose of Ranch Robin. 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox, 445 The City Vampires; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar. 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. AT? The Exceisior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret-3 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. 621 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge. | 528 Fox and Falcon, the Bowery Shadows. 528 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 548 Dodger Dick’s Double} or, The Rival Boy Detectives. 558 Dodger Dick’s Desperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick. the Boy Vidocq. 578 The Two Shadows. — 582 Dodger Dick’s Drop. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Shsrp on Guard. 626 The Champion Pards. 687 Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. 645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp. 658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Bengle. ‘ 671 Jersey Fed, the Bor Hustler; or, Shadowing the Shadower. 685 Happy Hugh, the Boy- Musician Detective. 701 Photograph Fred, the Camera Sharp. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 718 Carl, the Mad Cowboy; ©, The Lariat Queen. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 714 Old Misery, . Mountain League. By Wm. G. Patten. 7156 Wide Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret; or, Caging the Cormorants. By T. C. Harbaugh. . 716 Dendwood Mick, Tr.*s, Still Hunts or, The Second Round in San Francisco. By Edward L. Wheeler. 17 Mosquito Jack, the Hustler Gamin; or, Move-on Mike’ , Grand Catch. By Jo Pierce. 718 Light-Heart Lute’ Last Trails or, The Gold Crater’s Secret. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 719 Pawnee Bill's Pledge; or, The Cowboy Col. Prentiss Ingraham. or, The Gamin Detec- 720 Broadway Billy’s Full Hand; ie | tive’s Double Snap at Santa Fe. By .'. C. Cowdrick, 721 Maverick Mose, the Arizona Detective; or, The Wizard of Urkos Pass. By Will Lisenbee- i Ready May 19. ‘“ 722 Deadwood Dick, Jr."# Dominoes: or, The Rival Campe of the Northern Border. By Edward L, Wheeler. Ready May 26. ‘ ; 728 Silverblade, the Shoshone; or, The Border Beagle’s a Secret Mission. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. i Ready June 2d. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half- Dime Library Is for mle by all newsdealers, five. centa per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of s1x cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. Kidnapper. By ihe Man from Missonrf; or, The Mystery of the * ¥ , / g a ~ we tne Wer a 9