Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 618) (1889 05 28)

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\ Crimi Lin rat ft el SO >. Copyright 1889, by BEADL# AND ADAMS, hl is \ Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. re N 6 “ 8 $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, 0. OLS. a Year. No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Centa | aS, ict ae Hf ) SS Il ' Mill alii HHI} | il iba Dar { The Clincher Campaign. BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, AUTHOR OF ** DEADWOOD DICK ” NOVELS, “‘ DBAD- WOOD DICK, JR.,” NOVELA, “‘ ROSEBTD ROB” NOVELS, ETO., ETC, CHAPTER IL. MR, JABEZ CLINCHER, PORK. A MAN walked into the Palace Hotel, Sixth and Vine streets, Cincinnati, Ohio, To the casual observer he looked like a farmer from some interior district. He was tall, gaunt, and moderately well+iressed; but his facial ex. pression was so grim, that the observer would ——_—_—— take a second look at him. He worea straggling | 4 TERRIBLE SIGH AWAITED DICK’S GAZE. beard, and was minus one eye,

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- helpless o 2 Deadwood Dick Jr. in Cincinnati. Walking to the office counter, he said: “Tam Jabez Clincher, and I want to see a man by the name of Ezra Moore!” ‘¢ No such person stopping here!” answered the dapper little cierk, “'Ye’r’ a liar!” roared Mr. Clincher, smiting the counter with a formidable fist, ‘‘ The man is stopping here!” The office was crowded with guests and poli- ticians, and Mr. Clinker’s violent retort at once created excitement, Jim Jones, the ‘‘ bouncer” of the place, and a retired pugilist, adyanced and grasped Mr, Chnebher by the shoulders. ‘“What’s the matter here?’ he demanded. **Come! You git!” But Mr, Clincher was not gh: ook on the ‘oit!” for, turning upon the burly Jones, he seized him, wiped the floor with him once, twice—and then threw him fully five yards away, as if he were a bundle of straw. Of course this enhanced the excitement, and for a moment there seemed to be a fair prospect of a genuine row. This, however, was averted by Mr. Maxwell, one of the proprietors, putting in an appear- ance, ‘Why, Clincher,” he expostulated, ‘‘ what is the matter that you are creating such a dis- turbance?” ‘What's the matter? Matter enough! Think Tll let any young jackass like that clerk 0’ yourn, lie to me? Not bya jugful!” and Mr. — cast a withering glance at the dapper clerk, ‘¢ No one will doubt that, Mr. Clincher,” Max- well hastened to reply, ‘' but there is no need of your becoming so excited. I can personally as- sure you that no such party as Ezra Moore is a guest of my house!” ‘Then all I kin say, ye’r’ another liar, by thunder, same’s yer clerk! I follered Ezra Moore to yer tavern myself, saw him go to the counter, register his name; then he war shown up to his room. So, now!” Mr. Maxwell was beginning to get mad. ‘“*Tf such a person as Ezra Moore is inmy house he is here under an assumed name, I as- sure you. Here is the register. Perhaps you will recognize this Moore’s se jae ? **Nary. Wouldn’t know Moore’s handwritin’ no more than a settin’ hen knows who laid each egg she’s coverin’, Call down all yer guests, an’ [’ll pick out my man, purty thunderin’ quick!” | ‘*Man, you are mad, I shall do nothing of the sort. You had better go. If Mr. Moore turns up I will telephone you!” ‘* Telephone be darned! till I find thet ornery cuss, Ezra Moore. So, thar!” Mr. Clincher declared, doggedly. “Well see!” Maxwell said, grimly. “Vl have no more of this sort of business in my house,and you can bet onit!” and turning to a hall bo ’ he added: ““Call’ in two policemen, and order a cab. Clincher must be out of bis mind, and I'll send him to his home at Mount Auburn!” Clincher gave a snort of rage.” ‘Oh, ye will, hey?” he roared, ‘* Waal, now, Macwell, yell need to call in the hull police force ter doit, 1 ain’t no baby, you bet, an’ I kin lick my own weight in wildcats!” At this juncture a young man who had been an interested looker-on stepped forward and touched the hog merchant on the arm. He was wirily built, about twenty-six years of age, and possessed of a pleasant face, dark-brown eyes and hair, and a slight mustache. He was well- dressed, but there was nothing flashy about his appearance, “Mr. Chncher,” he said, in a mild voice, ‘* you had better come along with me. I have some business to transact with you, I believe— important business!” Clincher glared at him a moment, as if he were tempted to assault him, then demanded: ‘Well, who are you ?” “lam from Washington—at least, I was or- dered here from there.” Clincher stared. “Ye don’t say,” he ejaculated. “Tl be darned if I expected ye so soon. So ye’r’—” “No names, please,” the other ordered, per- emptorily. ‘* Come!” “ All right; I'll go long. But, hold up,” and, turning to Mr. Maxwell, he added: ‘‘ First time aoe aspare minnit, Pll come aroynd, buy up darned tavern, and turn you out, An’ when them perlicemen come, jest tell,*em the can trot vx og back along their beats, an’ clu dad wimmen and children, [’ve no yearthly use fer ’em!” I ain’t leavin’ hyer And with og ahr shot Mr. Clincher ac- ashingtonian from ai hotel. companied the A cab was waiting near at hand, to pick up patrouage, so they entered this, and the ‘ hog- merchant ”—for such he was—gave the order: *€ Clincher’s, Mount Auburn,” and they were driven rapidly away. ‘‘So yer’ the detective, hey?’ Clincher de- manded, as they were whirled along. “Yes, I was in Detroit when I received a tel- egram to come here, so I lost no time in doing so,” ‘Bully fer you! If thar’s anything I like bet- ter than hot spiced rum, it’s promptness, ’speci- Ay in hogs.” The young man eyed his eccentric companion a moment, as if at a loss whether to be insulted by the blunt allusion, Seeing biserror, Mr. Clincher added: ‘**] dealin pork, you see. Made my pile out o’ et—that, an’ Chicager wheat. An’, now, young feller, what’s yer name?” ‘* Bristol,” “ Bristle, hey? Humph! I’ve made a good bit o’ money out of hog bristles, in my time!” ‘* But I don’t happen to be of that species of Bristols,” was the retort, ‘*Sart?in not. No offense, I hope. Et’s only my bpnt way o’ speakin’. Ef ye ever want ter go inter the hog trade, you can come to me an’ I kin post ye better’n any other man in Cin’snati. A shoat’s a shoat, the kentry over, but et takes a good jedge to tell a good shoat frum a bad’un. I have a thunk you’re frum fu’ther West?” ‘“ A great ways further.” Old Clincher mused a moment. ‘“*Paars to me, too,” he said, ** thet ye use good smart langwidge fer a cowboy, ‘lowin’ ye aire one, or hev bin one. S’pose ye hed a ker- legeate edication, though, when ye was a young- ster, hey?” ‘* Have you ever heard of Deadwood Dick the original, and Deadwood Dick, Junior, the detec- tive, his successor?’ was abruptly asked, “Yas,” Mr. Clincher admitted. ‘I’m an old hoss at readin’, when pork is low. I’ve read all about them pesky cusses.” ** Well, 1am Deadwood Dick, Junior!” ‘*Thunderation! ‘Ye don’t mean it?” “T do. And Ican also say that I was never inside a school-house after I was twelve years of age. Mr, Clincher gave a gasp of astonishment. **'Ye don’t mean it?” **T do, though,” ‘‘ But whar’d ye’d git yereddication? Ihain’t got much, ’cept in figgers, but P’'ll be darned ef yer langwidge don’t knock the time out o’ me. An’ [ went ter school till I was nineteen.” ‘*Contact with the people, experience in the ups, down and hardships of life, and a keen ob- servation of what goes on around you, are prom- inent factors in self-education!” Dick replied, ‘* Ab! the cab is slowing up.” ‘An’ yander is where the old porker giner- ally takes off his boots,” Clincher said, pointing out of the window with pride in his voice, ‘“‘Thar’s one little piece o’ evidence that Jabe Clincher knows a few about hogs!” CHAPTER II. MR, CLINCHER AS A NARRATOR. Upon aspendid sloping lawn stood a hand- some stone mansion of modern architecture—a home, judging by exterior appearance, fit fora prince. The lawn was liberally adorned with sbrubs, and although it was past the season for flowers, all the surroundings were most attractive to the eye. % abez Clincher had a charming home, as Dick more particularly found out, after he had entev- It was expensively and luxuriously furnished. ‘“‘f hed this house built, an’ fixed up to suit my own notion, and my darters’!” Mr. Clincher said, as he led Dick into the parlors, sitting- room, dining-room, and library—the latter being well-stocked with fine volumes. Dick was nota little surprised to find that a man so eccentric, and with sucha rough vernac- ular, should have such exquisite taste, in all his arrangements and surroundings, Perhaps, how- ever, much of it was owing to the taste of the old port-merchant's ‘“‘ darters,” They returned to the sumptuously-furnished front parlor, and became. seated, Mr. Clincher touching a silver call-bell. A servant | fame “ Send Car'line here!” Mr, Clincher ordered. Directly a chit of a girl, aged about fifteen, very slim, tall of her age, and of a comely face, entered the parlor, She was neatly but plainly d R Evidently the Clincher did not throw away much on fineries, except for home comfort, ‘*‘Car’line, this is Bristles, the feller what's” goin’ to look up yer sister; an’, mind ye, treat’ bim right, fer ther’s no hog bristles about him! He’s my guest, an’ is ter have ther best the place contains, What are yer favorite beverage, Bristles, fer my cellar holds all sorts, an? Car’ ‘| line, tho’ she’s my youngest darter, can knock spots off ther best drink-decoctor in Cin’snati a- fixin’ up drinks, ef [do say, An’ I opine I don’t lie, not even about hugs!” “Well, I am not much of a drinker,” Dick responded, “but if I have anything, I'll take a little port wine, or sherry,” ‘““ Correct.as a hog on ice, Car'Jine, fetch up a bottle of the Widder, and bring me a bow] of rum punch, that’s a good gal, an’ tell that con- sarned cook tew fix upa boom-fine lunch fer two, Be spry, now; silks an’satings are down, an’ you’ll be hankerin’ after some new dresses!” Caroline blushed, bowed, and glided from the room, ‘“‘ Thet’s my youngest,” old Clincber explained, ‘an’? tho’ she hain’t so handsum’ as her sister was, she’s got more sense, and love fer her dad,” “‘She’s a likely looking girl!” Dick replied, feeling called upon to say something. ‘‘It isn’t always the woman with a pretty face who pans out the best.” ‘*Ther’s where yer head’s as level as a hog’s back,” Clincher declared, ‘‘V?ve known et to be a fact. My old woman, Betsey, weren’t no great shakes fer beauty—she warn’t as purty even as thet acteress, Mary Ann Anderson, what comes hyer sometimes, but, criminy, she c’u’d rastle out the work, and was a powerful help to me. Poor soul, she’s gone now! But, I say, Bristles, ttet Mary Aun Andersonaire a stunner, ain’t she? Last time she war here, I tuk sich a fancy to her, thet I sent her a stuffed shoat fer breakfast!” Dick felt like laughing, but of course desisted. He wondered, however, if the queenly Mary ap- preciated the shoat enough to introduce it Into ‘* A Winter’s Tale.” The drinks were presently served by Car’line, and after Clincher aud the detective bad par- taken, the speculator remarked: ‘*Waal, now, Bristles, 1 presume you’d like ter know what I want o’ ye?” ‘‘T am here for that purpose,” Dick repjied, “Waal, I'll tell ye. You see, I was purty tere excited down at the hotel.” “ yes,” “Well, 1 had darned good reason to be— hogged if I hadn’t, as you will allow, when you’ve hearn thé story, which ar’ this: “Two years ago, my gal, Clara, graduated from school—fer my gals sball hev a thoreugh eddication, ef I have ter raise a corner in pork ter give et to’em! That’sme, Jabez Clincher. / ‘Well, my Clara was eighteen, and a mighty purty gal, ef I do say it—an’ I never lie, noteven on the weight of a hog. Clara was superbly eddicated, and accomplished, in all thet appli- cates ter wimmen-folks, an’ thar wasn’t a gal in Cin’snati as could hold a tallow candle to her, fer good looks, an’ fer fine duds an’ gew-gaws, sech as natterally sets a woman off, “My bank account war gettin’ tolerable fat, an’ I'd formed an idea o° sendin’ Clara to marry onter a duke or a lord, or sum sech racket as es but my cackilations got knocked higher’n a kite. ‘* A feller come hyer from Texas, callin’ his- self Ezra Moore, an’ avnounced himself as a cattle king. He was young, good-lockin’ an’ evidently rich, for he dressed well, wore dia- monds big as a chestnut, an’ carried bisself like a gentleman. ' ; ‘He spent a pile o’ money, got into the best society, an’ the gals went wild over him. They called him an Adonis, whatever in thunder that is—et: can’t be worth the hind hoof o’ a hog, ef it aire anything like Ezra Moore—az’ finally, the cuss got runnin’ after my gal, Clara. I didn’t like this, an’ I-told him to pick an’ git. He give me some sass, an’ | mopped up the street wi’ him. That’s the last I see’d of him fer awhile, ‘Next mornin’ I gota letter from my Clara, an’ she sed she haa eloped with her Adonis. Thunder-an’-Mars! wasn’t | mad, then? Say, Bristles, help yerself to the wine!” Beads of perspiration were standing upon Mr. Clincher’s brow. It was evident that be was getting much excited. He arose and paced the floor a few minutes, and ther returned to his seat. “‘ Waal,” he said, ‘I swore vengeance, and set out fer Chicago, Thar I engazed & pack 0’ Piukerton’s men, and sent ’em down to Texas to find my darter, and ber condemned Adonis, wh ‘one bh ter buy fifty carload 0’ h ‘ nt enough ter buy ogs but atter a long S.arch the detectives sed thar '

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i *| _ he should be traveling with another woman, # Dea “to give up in despair, 3 _ “Two weeks ago, I got a letter from Little Rock, Arkansas. It was from Clara. She sed she an’ her babe were living thar, in abject poverty, and upon the verge of starvation. She didn’t know where Moore was. Hehad left her, a month before, after leading her a dog’s life. She begged of me to send some money, asa joan, until she was strong enough to work!” Here Mr. Clincher paused, to wipe the moisture from his eyes, with his red ban- danna. ‘** Did you send the money?” our hero asked. “Yas. Then, ther next day, I concluded to o myself, an’ fetch hum my child, and her athe The letter had gone ahead o’ me sum -eight hours, an’ when I reached Little Rock, it had already bin delivered to a woman, purport- in’ ter be my darter, but in no way answerin’ ter my Clara’s description.” 4 ‘* Well, what else?” ‘Waal, et turned out that the place to whar I'd sent the letter, war a small third-rate hotel. The woman who got the letter, and a man, along wi’ a baby, hed only been stoppin’ thar _a week, an’ war registered as Mr. an’ Mrs, E. Moore. As soon as they got the letter, the crit- ‘ters decamped, leavin’,an unpaid board-bill. ‘No one know’d whar they’d gone.” ‘‘ How did you remit the money?” ‘“‘ Registered letter.” ‘¢ How much did you send?” ‘Five hundred dollars, in fifty dollar green- backs!” Dick gave a whistle of astonishment. “That's a pile of money to transmit through the mails, Mr. Clincher,” ‘“*Mebbe! But, you kin bet no gal o’ mine “was a-goin’ ter suffer for want 0’ money |” ‘‘Did you receive the customary receipt of the letter’s delivery?” “ec Yas.” ‘Let me see it.” _ Mr, Clincher produced a well-filled wallet, ex- ‘tracted the yellow card from it, and handed it to the detective, Dick examined it, thoughtfully. ‘The card is signed by Ezra Moore, for Clara Moore?’ “ Yas.” ‘‘ Ezra Moore got the money?” “Et looksit!” ** Were your inquiries, in Little Rock, such as ‘to make you positive that the\woman who had been stopping at the hotel under the name of Moore, was not your daughter?” “Testotally positive. My gal was short, plump an’ had blondish bair. Ther woman who was stoppin’ at the hotel war asix-footer, raw- boned, an’ black-haired. Ye see thar’s no mis- 2 taken ’twar not my darter.” _ “Did the description of the man answer to that of your Ezra Moore?” “To a capital T! Same condemned critter, *thout a doubt!” ‘Then, you've evidently been swindled?” ‘Sure!’ ‘* But where’s your daughter?” Jabez Clincher groaned. ‘Dead, maybe, Yet, I bev hopes ter ther ‘contrary !” ‘* On what do you base them?” “That she is the victim of a conspiracy!” ‘Give me an idea of what you mean.” ‘‘ Well, in the first place, about six months ago, my darter Clara and Car’line, were each left a buadred thousand dollars, by their uncle, din the West, and their cash was transferred to my, care, in trust fer the children. I imme- getly advertised in Texas an’ other Western apers, that my dartcr bad fallen heir to a fortune, an’ I wanted her to cum home, ‘If this met ther eye of Ezra.Moore, he’s jest villain Paver § ter git up a plot ter get hold of the fortune e “There's a possibility you may be right,” Deadwood Dick acquiesced. “‘ lt seems strange unless your daughter is dead, or smuggled away.’ ie Jest my ideer, exactly, an’ that’s why I pt to Washington fer a capable detective. Pye tried Pinkerton’s men, to my heart’s con- 7 ? tent. Spent a bar’l o’ money, an’ no returns. Now, I want ye ter run down Ez Moore, first, an’ then sbhadder the cuss till y find my dar- er. Dm sure she’s alive, Kept shadderin’ t ye, fe Sag be if in one ii or the bills, an’ pay ye a s° zean do it, too!” 18h ou your ability to meet your C nt Ll eve gene Cee ee | “They didn’t find me!” wel fs “That doest't signify they won't!” rt . { was no trace o’ Ezra Moore, in Texas, So, I hed | me what occurred, after you found Moore and the woman had fled from Little Rock?” “Well, I employed local detectives, an’ finally bit onter the ijee thet they hed struck for Cin’snati. So I come back here, a-kitin’. Uast night, for the first, my ’spicion war veri- fied. Last night, about midnight, I war passin’ the Palace Hotel, when I see’d Ez Moore enter it. 1 watched thru the window, an’ see him sign the register, an’ then a boy showed him up ther stairs.” “Why didn’t you go in and arrest him at the time?” ‘“*T hadn’t no warrant, and the hour being midnight, I couldn’t well get one. Then, too, I couldn't well get it inter my noggin that he wouldn’t be at the hotel in ther mornin’, But, this mornin’, they allowed he wasn’t thar, That’s what raised the fuss!” ** Do you still believé that he is there?” iti I do!” ‘* But, most likely under an assumed name?” ** Mebbe.” **Can you describe him.” ‘*He’s about five feet ten, thirty years old, full round’ face, no beard, black eyes and hair, and a kinder impudent expression o’ counter- nance. When I see’d him last night, he worea checked cape overcoat, striped trous'rlooms, an’ a Kossuth sort o’ hat!” ‘Tf he’s at the hotel, I'll find him, and let you know!” Dick said, rising, ‘‘ Remain at home, so a telegram: may reach you, without delay!” “Telephone will reach me, quickest,—444 Auburn!” ** Very well.” Then, Dick took his departure. CHAPTER IIL. THK CHAMBER CONFERENCE. Mr. CLINCHER’s belief that Ezra Moore was at the Palace Hotel, was not incorrect. During the melee in the office, a tall, dark- bearded man, of somewhat Southern aspect, had been an interested looker-on, and listener. His erect figure, and broad chest gave him something of a military bearing. He was past middle age, well dressed, and not at all bad looking, except for one peculiarity— an almost savage knitting of the brows, which seemed to reflect a sullen nature, He stood slightly aloof from the rest of the crowd, and, to an ordinary observer, took no interest in the quarrel further than idle curios- ity. When old Clincher and Deadwood Dick had taken their departure, however, his manner changed. He bastened to the broad staircase, and went up-stairs, almost two steps at a time. On the third flight, he rapped at a door, briskly, “Come in!” bade a voice from within, and he obeyed. Ezra Moore was reclining upon the bed, with a newspaper in his hand. Clincher’s description of him was correct, With the exception that the mau’s face was pale and haggard, “Ab! King, is that you?” Moore saluted. ‘** How’s the weather, out? I havn’t taken pains to look out of the window, yet. Odd of me, is it not?” “ Devilish odd!” King retorted, dryly. “The weather is all right!” Something in the tone of his voice was so significant, that Ezra Moore glanced at him more sharply. ‘Is there anything else that is not all right?” he demanded, “* Yes, there is!” “ What is it?” ** Old Clincher has been below, raising arow!” Moore sat up on the bed, looking interested, ‘* What about?” he queried. About you!” **'The deuce you say! Explain!” _“* Well, Clincher saw you enter the hotel, last night, and register. This morning be came to the hotel, and demanded to see you, When told that no such a person as Ezra Moore was a pps of the house, he called both the clerk and andlordliars, wiped the floor up with Jim Jones, the bouncer, and kicked up a row generally. Finally, two policeman were sent for, but before they arrived, Clincher was approached by a young man who said he wanted to see Clincher on important business, and he rushed the pork kin So ina rig ie = © was the young man A detective, I suspect!” Moore pts dara ‘ ry ey ' A Me Su fener Ree as Pay ge : eae i dwood Dick Jr. in Cincinnati. | She will do t | a most pealies ‘What must I do?” King reflected. “IT hardly know what to advise!” he said, thoughtfully. ‘*'The chances are if you remain here, a war- rant will be issued and the hotel searched. In | that case you would be found, and it would be all up with you. On the other band, if you try to slide away, there’s more chances than one that detectives will be watching every person that leaves the hotel, and nab you!” ‘* What makes you think this?” ‘* Because old Clincher is madder than a singed bull, and if he gets a hold of you, he'll break your head, I believe you have had some expe- rience with him, physically speaking.” ** Well, ’'m a bigger man than you, and know pretty fairly how to handle myself, but after seeing the pork king mop up the floor with big Jim Jones, and fling him half-way across the room, as though he were a clothing-house man- ikin, | want no Clincher in mine!” Moore gritted his teeth, and his eyes, blood- shot as they were, flamed wickedly. ‘““What makes you think the chap who took Clincher off is a detective?” King shrugged his broad shoulders, ** The cut of his jib!” ** How do you mean?” : ** A cool, keenly-outlined countenance, and a keener pair of eyes, that never miscarry, in their searching glance. I’ve come in contact with many detectives, but rarely failed to single one out, If this chap is a detective, as I have no doubt, he knows his biz, and will be to you « dangerous enemy.” **He must die. If not, I’m lost. know him if you saw bim again?” **’Yes, most assuredly. When I study a man’s face, it is always indelibly photographed upon my memory.” “* Would you undertake the job?” **T think not. I’m not disposed to that sort of business,” ‘“* Yet I have heard you have done it.” ‘* That remains to be proven.” ‘* What will you take to do the job?” **'You have no money. Why, it’s my money, bard earned at the green-table, that is support- ing you here,” oore scowled. . “Tt’s mighty sarcastic you’re getting of late, I believed you to be my friend,” ; ‘* lave I ever ‘proved different in the course of our association?” Yet you refuse to do this!” I am done with that sort of Would you I am here to shield you, in so far as protection is of avail, but ask of me no crime,” ‘* But, there is a fortune at stake!” King shrugged his shoulders, ‘** Maybe!” he said, ‘but you've not got it yet. After seeing old Clincher, I’m not sure you will get it very soon. The old man is no fool, and Tl bet he will make a stubborn fight.” Moore was silent a moment, bis brows knitted in a frown. “T don’t believe it, when he knows every- thing. He loved his daughters, and when he knows Clara is dead, and that be can get posses- tion of her child by disbursing a moderate sum of money, you bet he won’t refuse!” ‘*T wouldn’t like to stake my life on that. Al- though rough ,and illiterate, Clincher is nota slow man, or he would never have acquired his immense fortune in busivess. My estimate of Clincher is that he’d spend a hundred thousand dollars on detectives, where be wouldn’t spend that many cents to benefit a rascal’s schemes!” Moore leaped from the bed to bis feet, his face flaming with anger. ‘This to me, Cap King!” he cried, fiercely. “Certainly. Sit down, and don’t be a fool. | We’ve chummed together too long to havea split, especially at this stage of the game. kind enough to keep your temper. I’m not a man to stand too much nonsense!” Moore sunk back upon the bed, and remained ‘ in grim silence a few minutes, while Cap King walked over to the window. “What is Juna Coing?’ Moore finally ‘de- manded; ‘‘ in her room, I suppose?” “Yes,” King answered, without looking around at the speaker, ‘‘ and half-drunk, at that!” **So much the better, see anything of the detective, send for Juna. e work you’ve not the nerve to do. ‘You know her game never fails her!” _ s King turned from the window, with some thing like a shudder, and left the room, once the sal was closed after him, as nae prreathed Me H Waal Gt Go vend her here, and — you go below and keep your eyes open. If you | ; } { 4 i S aly > b : i A

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’ lips, he drained “better,” a smile CHAPTER IV. THE BULI-DOG FROM BUTTE. In the next room adjoining that of Ezra Moore, was a new arrival in Cincinnati. He had come to town on the late Western Ex- press, the night previous, and, although he was a rather eccentric and rough-looking individual, he had been successful in securing, at the Pal- ace, a comfortable room, upon exhibiting to the envious eyes of the night-clerk a huge roll of bank-notes, of large denomination, *‘ tipping” the clerk with a five-dollar gold piece and filling him up with wine. “T allow [ ain’t much fer looks,” he had ob- served, ‘‘an’ I don’t sport a tailor-shop on me back, but you bet yer boots I kin show up more o’ the sugar than any o’ yer guests, ef I don’t war shine-up shoes an’ white neckties, An’, when ye cum to consider, me ruby, thet I kerrys never less than half a million in me clo’se, an’ owns a ten thousan’ ranch, an’ three gold-mines, at Butte City, Montana, an’ can buy up a town wi’ my check, I’m no slouch!” The night clerk was immediately filled with admiration for this bold and moneyed individual from the land of the setting sun, even as he was being filled with good wine; and thus it was, that, shortly before daybreak, Mr. Bill Book, of Butte City, found himself comfortably in bed, in the room next adjoining the one occupied by that desperate villain, Ezra Moore, Mr. Book’s advent, was destined to create a sensation among the aristocratic of the Palace Hotel’s patronage, where some of the first peo- ple in the land, in their visits to Porkopolis, were wont to for Mr. Book’s make-up and general personal appearance were something above the ordinary. He stood six-foot-six, in his socks, and tipped the beam at something like two hundred pounds, although one would scarcely have credited it, judging by his raw-boned appearance. His legs and arms were extremely long, but of good size, while his trunk was well-knit, and indicated great powers of endurance. His face was a study. It reminded one of a bull-dog. He wore no beard. His hair was “ fighting” red, His dress was not calculated to create a furor in a fashionable hotel or dining room. Beginning at the bottom, he wore a pair of long-legged boots, and with soles an inch thick. Next came a pair of well-worn, trowsers of cordurcy, belted at the waist with a cartridge belt; then a buckskin shirt, liberally perforated with holes; and for a necktie, a piece of braided silk, formed like a noose, This completed the Westerner’s costume so far as concerns our story, but he made a truly ludicrous contrast to the Palace’s well-dressed patrons, After being shown to his room, Bill Book, of Butte City threw himself upon the bed, with- out undressing, and proceeded to take a snooze, “I'm mighty lucky to git sich ’ecommydations, by ther blaaes!” he commented, ‘‘ These high- toned Eastern hotel-keepers seem ter ’spect a feller to be dressed ter kill, afore they kin get tn aaa ’Tain’t so in Butte City, cussed f it is! And then the ee from the Butte re- lapsed into sound repuse, Asarule, Western men are not sleepers of the long and steady kind. They sleep well, but awake at the slightest sound. It is the force of habit. When Bock, of Butte, awoke, it was by hear- ing voices in the adjoining room, fre sat up on the bed, and listened, A door communicated between his room and the next. It was closed, of course and locked, no/ doubt, but, as Book’s bed ran alongside it, he was af- forded a capital opportunity to play the eaves- dropper. After listening a moment, he muttered. “ Blarst et, my ears somehow seem out o’ kil- ter. I allow I need an eye-opener!” Opening a small hand-bag, which was his only luggage, he brought forth a pint flask of whisky, and placing the mouth of it to his ft of its contents. It would have killed an ordinary man stone dead, this enormous dose of liquid fire, but Mr. Bill Book, of Butte, was not by any means an ordinary man. He was as tough as steel, his life having been one of hardships; then, too after the fashion of many Westerners, he had peeelly been brought up on the ‘ bug-juice” 8. “Thar! I'll allow the Bull-dorg o’ Butte feels his stomach, with ow, then, I he muttered, rubbin of satisfaction. ‘ wanter De adwood Dick Jr. in Cincinnati. Tea what’s goin’ on in next room, I heerd some galoot ejeck a swear, an’ when any cuss will swear in sech a temple o’ grub as this, et | must signalfy thet thar’s suthin’ wrong!” So he rolled onto the bed again, and assumed a listening attitude, his ear close to the com- | municating door. And there he lay, motionless as a log, listen- ing to the conversation between Ezra Moore, and Cap King. He seemed deeply interested, for several times he started, It was when he heard a name mentioned, The name was ‘‘ Jabez Clincher!” ‘* By thunder! so thar’s trouble in the Clincher camp, is thar!” he mused, did. Thar’ll be war, now. Them sharks, in next room—but hang it, I ken’t understand et all, darn my socks ef 1 kind Reckon the bug-juice warn't quite strong epuff ter stir up my stum- mick, an’ lubricate my thinkin’-machine so et | would run right!” Just then, he overheard Moore give orders to | King to summon Juna, and then go below, and watch for developments, “T must see this King!” the Bull-dog’ mut- | tered, and donning his head-gear, he quickly | left his room, and passed Moore’s door, Just as Cap King came out. A swift glance at the captain, a swifter glance into the room, that was rewarded with a glimpse of Moore; then, the Bull-dog of Butte | passed on, and went down the stairs. When he reached the office, be sauntered lei- surely about, apparently unconscious of the as- tonished glances of the well-dressed aristocrats, who were distributed about the office and read- ing-rooms—wealt:y business men, a sprinkling of congressmen, and political magnates, not to mention a real live lord, from ‘‘ Hengland, you know ”—eye-glass and all,a regular swell, by the way. To the man from Butte, this dude appeared to be a great curiosity, and, after eying fim for a time, he walked up and slapped him familiarly on the shoulder. ‘Why, helloa, pard! What range did ye blow down from?” the Bull-dog cried, ‘‘ Darn my ducats, but ye’r’a reg’lar rip-snorter in them store-clothes! Where’d ye strike et rich? In the mines or in the cattle biz? Cattle biz is poor this year, ‘count 0’ “lection!” His lordship shrunk back vs if shot. ‘‘ Sir-rh!” he gasped, ‘I do not know you!” ‘Hey? Oh, don’t ye? Why, darn it, man, hain’t you Mose Luggins, o’ Dakota?” ‘* Never was in Dakota, sir!” = ‘“No? Well, ’llswear! Ye’r’ the livin’ pic- ter of Mose Luggins, after he broke all the faro banks in Fargo. Lord! but didn’t he put on the style, tho’! Ye couldn’t tech bim wi’ — lightning, Ou, say, I fergot. He was nched fer hoss-stealing shortly after that! ut, I say, you do look mighty like him, Come! Let’s go and liquor up!” ‘‘Aw! Thanks, awfully, but I never drink!” the son of Britain declared, edging further away. ny Never drink?” echoed the Bull-dog. “* Never drink!? Why, may I be stung by tarant’lers, an’ kicked to death by mules, ef ye orten’t be ashamed o’ yerself! Why, out our way, a man who can’t take his whisky, an’ take it straight, is no earthly good. Even the keotes an’ rattle- snakes shun him, Now, let me tell ye a keote aire a pestiferous anymile, and even me, ther Barkin’ Bull-dorg o’ Butte City, don’t like ’em, But I will say one snort ter their credit. In their own humble way they do appreciate a man who takes his whisky straight. Now, when they strike a mano’ this kind, they dis- sect the meat from his bones so clean that they are as white as an elerfant’s tusks; but, when they come across a teetotaler, a dude, or an anti-poverty chap, they jest simply turn a cold shoulder, give a screech o’ disgust, and fold their tent, and sneak silently henceward, Better come and h’ist some p'izen, deacon!” The Bull-dog from Butte City had no time for further arguments. A heavy hand was clapped upon his shoulder, and he was wheeled around facing the proprietor of the hotel. * Well, sir,” that gentleman thundered, ‘‘ who are you, and what are you doing here?” “Who? Me?” Yes, you !” “What's that your business, stranger? First tell me who you are!” ? ‘*‘ fam the proprietor of the hotel, and if you do not answer me it will be the worse for ou! ; ‘** The devil! runs the shebang, hey? By b You're the high cockolorum as excuse me! ** Lucky I come as I | | | i | } Shake! I’m Bill Book, the Barkin’ Bull-dorg 4 | from Butte City, Montana!” , “Well, Mr. Bill Book, be kind enough to ex- plain your presence here.” ““ Why, hain’t ye looked at yer registeryation book? , Tit ** When did you arrive?” “Oh, I whooped inter town ’bout midnight, and as I allowed, thru recommendation o’ Sen- ator Ingalls, whom I met on the train, thet this were as likely a shebangfas I would find, I walized in, secured a room, paid a month’s rent in advance, filled yer clerk chuck-a-block with expensive drinks, an’ went to roost! Any- thing else?” “Yes, It is my painful duty to inform you that you cannot longer remain.a guest of this house,” *T can’t, hey?” ** No, sir.” “Why not?” The Montana man’s eyes began to show un- mistakable signs of fire. ‘‘For the simple reason that we cannot ac- commodate you. We do not cater to yourclass, You are obnoxious to my guests, because you are wholly unfit to mingle among refined peo- ple. So you must go, Your money will be re- tunded, at the desk, and I will bave your bag gage brought down!” “Slow up, boss! If that baggage is teched I'll let daylight through you! D'ye know who I am!” ‘‘ No! nor do I care!” ‘‘ Well, sir, I’m the son of Jabez Clincher, the millionaire pork king!” **T don’t care a fig if you were a Vanderbilt, sir. You cannot remain bere!” “T intend to go, but, listen ter me. While ye can’t ’commydate a respectable Western man, yecan harbor thieves and murderers, Thar’s two of’em in fheroom nextto mine. Yester- day, my old dad called to inquire for one of ’em, and received disgraceful trentment. That’s all. Fetch down my grip, r2fund my ducats, and Dil go. Cuss meef I want to remain in yer refined society any longer, We've got bears out around Butte City that aire more refined than you!” The landlord stared; thn his face flamed. with anger. Spying Deadwood Dick, who had entered in time to overbear the foregoing conversation, and whom he knew to be a detective, ke cried. “Here, Mr. Bristol, arrest this ruffian!”’ Dick shook his head. ‘““Sorry, sir, but I cannot accommodate you!” * Why not?” ** Because [’ve overheard what has just trans- pired, and would be doing Mr. Jabez Clincher’s son, an injustice!” “* How so?” ** Because he is not in fault and you are!” *¢ You're a fool!” “You're a greater one; so while you refund one guest’s money, you’d better make it two, as: Icannot find it in my conscience to remain here, longer!” “Very well!” and turning to the clerk Mr. Maxwell ordered: ““Refund these men their money in full, and have their luggage brought down!” The Bull-dog of Butte advanced, and extend- ed his hand to the detective. ** You’re from the West!” he said. **How do you know?” “Cause you’ve got the Western grit inter yer carcass!” “Tam from the West!” Then, they shook hands. **T know’d it!” young Clincher declared. know, you, too, or of you!” ‘“Who am I, and what do you know of me?” The Bull-dog from Butte answered in a whis re se Yer the feller they call Deadwood Dick, Junior?” ‘Right you are! ‘““ By ther name 0” * Ah! Lam plad to meet you. You are Mr. Clincher’s son, I overheard you say.” “Tam, tho’ he does not know I’malive Do you know the old gent?” “Yes. Iam in his employ.” ** As a detective?” “e Yes.” “ Bo ye the chap as got the old gent out o” the way this mornin’?” “ es ” “Bully fer you! You're bbl How did you know?” # ristol,” white, you are, an’ ch; twixt dad an’ 11 make you ri But, what about my sister ‘Clarat Ther’s rmnethin’ f don’t: quite get thr’u’ my noggin’.” ‘Are you going to your father’s?” f yedo, you find thet I occupy room,’ = aig — Se eee te a see € vy y ay

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W< Jeadwooc J1C I. “T reckon I might as well.” * Of . course. t will explain matters on the way.” They then went to the counter and were promptly refunded the money they had paid in advance, : ‘© Dm exceedingly sorry this should have hap- ; pened,” the junior member of the firm declared. *t Had I had my way there would have been no trouble!” ‘¢Oh! well, accidents will happen, in the best regulated hotels!” Dick replied, with a shrug. ‘There are plenty of hotels in Cincinnati, so we'll. not be left out in the cold!” The baggage was then brought down, and Dick had his taken to the Burnet. Then a cab was called, which the detective -and the Bull-dog entered, and were driven to- vward Mount Auburn, ; On the way Dick explained the situation to oung Clincher, 5 In return, he received valuable information, a regarding what the Bull-dog overheard in the 4 room adjoining his. ria Also, an accurate description of the man, Cap King. “Yy ye soon as I’ve landed you at your father’s,” Dick said, “I must return and follow the trail!” E They soon reached Mr, Clincher’s, and father, - gon and sister were most joyfully reunited. It appeared that William Clincher had run away from home, when a boy, to make his for- tane—since then nothing had been heard from him, and he had been given up for dead, He had made his pile, and now returned to the parental roof. ’ bs Dick lingered only long enough to tender his ' congratulations, then started back down-town, e had work to do, CHAPTER V. ve \ A FEW WORDS WITH MR. KING, U.) Ags the hack that was bearing Deadwood Dick away from the Clincher residence was roliing down-townward, the detective began to plan his campaign. ‘*T'm pittedagainst two cunning rascals,” he 7 muttered, ‘‘and I shall have to be wide awake to flank them. Now, let me see: I shall know this man, King, by the Buil-dog’s description, I reckon, but I won’t dare venture to the Palace Hotel again, except in disguise.” Before leaving the Clincher residence, old Chneher had givea him a thousand dollars to work on; so when Dick reached.Fifth and Vine e streets, he left the conveyance, and repaired to i the nearest clothing house, where he purchased for himself a complete outfit of an expensive and fashionable sort, and ordered it sent to the Burnet House. On his arrival atthe Burnet be found his trunk already there, and his purchase of cloth- mgfoon foliowed, hen he had baggage and box taken to the room which had been assigned him, and he fol- ¢ lowed in its wake, He then proceeded to disguise himself. It did not take long to get into his new suit, which, when he had added a glossy silk hat, sgave him already a much altered appearance, ‘ ~and when he had dextrously added a full false i beard and wig of jetty black, his identity was / -almost totally hidden, He then left bis room, and the office of the Burnet being unusually crowded, he passed un- noticed from the hotel, proceeding over to the Palace Hotel, where a similar crowd was con- gregated. Election matters were getting literally red- hot, and all the ‘‘big gums” could be found Jabout the principal hotels. There were strangers in the lobbies and read- ing-rooms, who were not guests, and so Dick Se Sa Sa Mae ee ie eee a a = tea - “ « ee ae / _ knew he had nothing to fear of being particular- J ly noticed. Securing a cigar, he sauntered about in search #1 of Mr. Cap King; but, full an hour elapsed ere he be found a person whom he thought might be ti the man, He was standing at the bar, conversing with a burly individual who had ‘ brute, ruffian, and dissipation” stamped all over his face, albeit he wore ordinarily good clothes. Dick, Mba up to the bar, and standing Close alongside ing, ordered a drink. King wheeled, darted Dick an inquiring glance, but seeing nothing in the detective’s ap- pearance to particularly alarm him, turned his _attention once more to the tough, * All right, Boggs. You do-the work, and do ; it well, and you will be paid well, But, mind f :you, domt make no botch of it, or off comes , “your head,” “ Allright, captain. Ye kin bet 1 allers does a jobupright. Goin’ to treat fore I go?” **Of course. There is nothing meant about me, as you wiil find out if you serve me well. Bar- keeper, give us some whisky.” Dick tapped King upon the shoulder. ‘¢ Excuse me, stranger,” he said, apologetical- ly, when King wheeled around with an ugly glitter in his eyes, ‘‘ but it strikes me forcibl that I’ve heard that vcice of yours before. may be mistaken, tho’—et’s some years ago. you belong out Arkansaw-way?” “ Well, what if Ido?” King demanded, rather belligerently. ‘* Ok! nothing in particular, only et struck me if you come from my native State, I'd like to ask you to drink with me—you and your friend.” ‘What is your name?” ‘* Bill Hill, I live in Argenta, over from Lit- tle Rock,’ ‘What makes you think you have met me be- fore?” “Wal, I don’t know, except it is your voice. I’ve beard a voice like it somewhere’s, and if my memory serves me right, it was around the green table over in Little Rock, when a party of gentlemen were bucking the tiger. They were pretty much all strangers, and [ reckon, gener- ally speaking, did not know each other’s names,” * How long ago was this?” ‘* A trifle over two years.” King reflected. He was evidently on bis guard, Finally he said: ““T’ve lived in Little Rock all my later life, Mr. Hill, but, somehow, I don’t seem to remem- ber you,” Likely not. When we met at the table, if meet we ever did, I wore no beard. Then, too, mine being purely a home-life, I went over to Little Rock only occasionally, having nothing to call me there, except When L wanted to go ona little tear outside of the gaze of my fellow vil- lagers.” ‘** What are you doing in Cincinnati, Mr, Hill, may I ask?” ‘*Oh, I had never been East before, and as I made a nice little pile out o’ the Chicago wheat deal, thought I'd take a pleasure-trip and see what Cincinnati, New York and Philadelpbia looked like. Haven’t been here but a short time —only a few hours—and haven’t had time to look around much, but from what I have seen, I should judge Cincinnati is a pretty big place.” ‘Oh, tolerable!” King replied. ‘* Well, Mr. Hill, if you are from Arkansaw, you may rest assured I am glad to meet you, and sball be yroud of the honor of drinking your good health. his gentleman is Mr. Hiram Boggs, a friend of mine.” Deadwood Dick acknowledged the introduc- tion by shaking hands with Mr. Boggs, and then the trio imbibed. “Well, I think ’ll take a turn around and see the sights,” Dick said, after King had recipro- cated in the treating. ‘*Do you put up at this hotel, Mr. King?” ° ‘* For a few days,” King replied, briefly. “Allright. U'mattbe Burnet. Likely I will run in and see you again.” ‘*Do/’so, Drop in this evening, and perhaps we can arrange a game of poker, if you feel so disposed.” ‘* Poker! Well, I don’t consider myself much o’ a hand on it, but Irather like the game, for companionship’s sake. Ill be here at seven.” ‘*Do so, and [ll assure you of a jolly good time. I’vea friend stopping here, and maybe he will join in, although he’s rather an unlucky cuss, if I must say it. Don’t fail us, now, for I am always glad to meeta man from my own State. My friend is also from there, so we ought to make up a rather fraternal party.” “Right you are!” Dick replied, ‘* Well, good-by. I must be off!’ and shaking hands with Ezra Moore’s colleague, Dick took his de- parture. Once outside the hotel, he chuckled softly to himself. “Not so bad a start, after all!” he mused. “I have gotten into the confidence of Mr, King, of Arkansas, and doubtless shall soon have the pear of meeting Mr. Moore, at poker. Mr. Ing 1s very shrewd and watchful. He guards bis friend as an eagle would guard her young. So far, so good. You may be sharp, friend King, but, even though you were four times a king, aces will win, in this game. But, wait! You may win, to-night, on King’s luck: but, what I am looking after is a solitary queen, and I’m bound to find her!” His mind was bardly clear as to what his next move was to be, but, more mechanically Do “~ i? incinne 1, than otherwise, he retraced his way toward the Burnet House, On the way, he kept up a terrible thinking. To be sure he was to meet King, and perhaps Moore, that night; but, was there not some- thing else might be done, in the meantime? An idea struck him! CHAPTER VI. SIZING MATTERS UP. THE day was yet young. The noon whistles had not yet sounded, when Deadwood Dick bethought himself of the tele- raph. en I wonder how my friend Mr. King stands, in Little Rock?” he mused. ‘‘It might not stand me out to know that. It ought not to costa fortune to find out, anyhow!” So he repaired to the nearest telegraph office and sent the following telegram: | « Chief of Police, Latile Rock, Ark:— ‘““What do you know of a man, who formerly lived in Little Rock, and is known here as Captain or Cap King? Give me his history, and any infor- mation you can vouch for. ‘* RICHARD M. BRISTOL, “U.S, Detective, ‘* Burnet Hovse, * Cincinnati, Nov. 1.” Dick then returnd to the hotel, and at the counter, said to the head clerk: ‘* Can I see the landlord? It is a personal mat- ter. ‘* What name?” Dick extended a new card, which read: RICHARD M. BRISTOL, Detective, in the employ of the U, S, Secret Ser- vice Bureau, All advances made to him will be set- tled by The U, 8. S, 8, Cauzr. t The clerk stared, when he read this, Then, as by habit, he referred to the hotel register, Then he looked again at Dick. “Do you stop here?’ he demanded, rather than inquired. “ I do.” | ** Then, sir, you are in disguise.” Dick smiled, **- You are very clever!” he said, ‘' But, now that you know me, as I am, I suppose there is no need of summoning the proprietor. You surely will remember me, and if you will intro- duced me to your night clerk, I will be all right, The word ‘ Hill,’ will be the signal, whatever I may wear as a disguise. I am working ona very desperate case, and must enjoin secrecy.” ‘* You shall have it!” the clerk replied, ‘I used to be on Pinkerton’s force myself, and realize the work a man in the profession has to Then, turning to one of the numer- undergo.” ‘* Fred, come ous speaking tubes, he called: down, at once.” ‘** He will be here soon,” the clerk remarked, in a courteous way, ‘“‘and I will introduce you, and after that there will be no trouble. ou will be admitted at all bours, under any disguise you may assume.” ‘‘That will be satisfactory,” Dick replied, ‘“T merely wished to make myself known, so there would be no trouble as to my identity. Nota pleasant thing to be skulking around a hotel, unless you chance to be known.” * Well, rather not,” the head clerk retorted. “Fred” soon came down—a pleasant man. nered fellow, to whom the head clerk introduced the detective with necessary explanations to in- sure his advent to his room. Dick soon retired to his room, and remained | there untill the haJl boy brought bim up a tele- gram from Little Rock’s chief of police, which ran something as follows: | ‘John (Cap) King is a blackleg, and a scoundrel, | and bears a most unsavory reputation here asa | forger. He is wanted, and there is a reward of two hundred dollars for him.” | **So! so! Mr. King, I think I may be able to utilize you, to some purpose!” Dick mused. ‘* You will likely not care about doing a term in an Arkansas prison, and I may be able to make you an instrument for the release of Miss Clara Clincher, At any event, it will do no harm to try.” As there was nothing in particular for him to do until night, so far as Ezra Moore and Kin were concerned, he once more left the hotel, a taking a cab, was driven to the Clincher resi- dence, at Mount Auburn, where be found the family at their dinner. He was heartily received. ‘¢ Well, what have you found out?” the elder Clincher demanded, after Dick had introduced himself in his new disguise. “T think I am in a fair way to pick up the trail,” he replied, supplementing this informa- a8 se at tion with a narration of his interview with NA

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‘Deadwood Dick Jr. in Cincinnati. King, and the telegram he had received from Little Rock. ‘‘I hope to learn something of importance to-night, when I meet this man, Moore.” ‘“Would it not be best to arrest the cuss at _once, and be done with et?” suggested Charley Clincher. ‘“By no means!” Dick replied. ‘‘ That, you see, would be literally sealing your sister’s fate, in case she is alive. The only thing is to keep an eye on these fellows and follow them, | think they will remain at the hotel for a spell yet, for, according to your own report, Moore is afraid of showing himself, fearful of being snapped up by officers of the law. From the con- versation you overheard, I judge that the ruffian, Boggs, has been hired to assassinate your father. So it behooves you all to keep in the house as closely as circumstances will permit. In my present disguise of Bill Hill, I am unsuspected, and can do more thus than though I were in any way assisted by any of you.” “ By the thunderin’ Jeramity! I’ve a mind to o down ter thet hotel and tread thet cuss inter ust!” ‘the elder Mr, Clincher declared, with de- cided vindictiveness, ** Now, dad, jest hold yer hosses, or darned ef I don’t lick yer myself!” the junior Mr, Clincher protested, ‘ You let ther detective hev hisown way, an’ you kin bet yer boots he'll fetch things around right. He’s no slouch, even in his socks, an’ he’s biz cl’ar to the spinal mennungittus, an’ ef ary harm comes to him, you stack yer reds on et thar’ll be a raisin’ meet hyar in yer willage o’ Cincernatter. An’ when ther Bull-dorg from Butte City do declaim a thing, ther ain't a sen- ator as durst gainsay et!” ‘*My son, I’m proud o’ ye!” Mr, Clincher of Cincinnati averred, patting his offspring on the shoulder. ‘‘ | allus knew you’d make yer mark in the world, an’ ef ye go inter hogs, you'll soon be as rich as yer old dad, You shall hev yer way, too. The detective shall hey bis way, an’ Tl bet a hundred bar'ls 0’ side-pork be wins.” Diuner over, and Dick having nothing to occupy his attention until night, cards were in- troduced and socially played until dusk. Then, bidding the Clinchers adieu, the detective be- took himselfdn*the direction of the Palace Hotel on foot, pre walking to riding. He had Mot three rods from the house, however, when Bull-dog came running after him, with an utterance singularly between a Hold ‘up, thar!” le howled. ‘Come back. Suthin?important has happened!” he turned, x strode back, after a is fashion, Dick following. at is it?” he d manded, as he sauntered into thd parlor. ‘Telegram! Messenger jist left it, after yer was out 0’ the house!” the Bull-dog replied, ** Hyer,it is, Read it!” Old Ct fas sitting in his arm-chair, pal- lid in cOuntenance, and evidently very much agitated.) A s weepihg on the sofa. 1-d ‘were like fire. | am to the gas-light, and Cora w read the foll owing: © th, CINNATI, November 1. “ Jabez CLINCHER homme “Your daughtér ( b> | ) is dead. Her offspring, aboy, isin the hands of a Kentucky family, to whom, unfortunately, I to mortgage him. He is a beautiful. youngster, and you t wish to redeem him. The price is twenty t “4 dollars. If you mun want him for that Pp yee (with cash, in a package ) with Dun Donald, Uagton, Ky., but make no attempt to send out s, under penalty of the child’s death. : “per Be retary.” “PS, If you wish to enter intovt nsaction, telegraph instantly to Mr. Donald, as‘ above, but I warn you not to try to come any funy bu ss. It won't work. I’m off for Europe, whither my deputy will bring the money. * M” CHAPTER VII. DICK TAKES NO WATER IN HIs! Dick handed the telegram back to the Bull- ra . “ey e ted as much!” he said. ‘ Nothing init. A mere bluff, for sake of gaining money, ou can depend upon it, and after that notice, ll stake my reputation your sister is still alive, and the child, too. So pay no attention to that telegram.” ‘ “T am seriously afraid that my daughter is dead! old Jabez groaned “T don’t believe anything of the sort!” Dick replied. ‘It strikes me more forcibly, now, than ever that sheis alive, ‘‘Sodor’t worry in the least, concerning this telegram, for I feel certain there is nothinginit. I will see Moore and King,.to-night, and if I learn anything of consequence, will let you know, by early tele- phone, to-morrow.” Then, Dick once more took his departure. By the time he reached the Palace Hotel, it was quite seven o’clock, and he found King awaiting him in the hotel! office. ‘“Ah! you are punctual I see!” that worthy said. ‘‘ Come and have something, and then we will go up-stairs and see my friend Moore, Nice sort of fellow, you see, but a trifle under the weather, just at present.” So they repaired to the bar, and Dick took a cigar, while Mr. King, of Arkansaw, indulged in a liberal drink of whisky. They then went up-stairs, and the detective soon found himself in the- presence of Ezra Moore, to whom he was introduced. After a chat, cards were produced, together bm poker chips, and a three-handed game was vegun. ‘The luck was all in Dick’s favor, and before he had been seated an hour, he had scooped in upward of a hundred dollars. Neither of the other two players seemed to enjoy this, as could be judged by their exchange of glances, which were anything but friendly. ‘Tt strikes me,” King remarked, after he bad lost another twenty dollars, ‘‘ that you know more about this game, sir, than you claimed to me!” Dick smiled. ‘* T believe poker is not so much a game of science,” he answered, “as it is of luck, and I seem to have a pretty good run of luck to-night, it is true.” ‘*T snould say so. In fact, I’ve an idea that you are a professional card-sharp, and never saw Arkansas.” “Sir!” Dick cried, rising, with assumed in- dignation, ‘*I did not come here to be insulted, but at your own invitation, to play a suciable zame. As that seems, now, out of the question, think I had better retire.” “JT don’t know about that!” Moore cried, springing to the door, locking it, and putting the key in his pocket. Then, turning to his col- league, he added: ** By my soul, King, I believe the fellow is a spy—a detective!” King eyed Dick a moment, in silence, but with a savage glitter in his baleful eyes. “Tf I were sure of that I’d bu’st his infernal head for him!” he declared, vindictively. Dick laughed, pleasantly. ‘*You do me an unexpected honor,” he ob- served. ‘* However, I bardiy appreciate being shut in, like a common criminal, so if you will have the condescension to unlock that door, you will not only save yourselves trouble, but dam- age to the door, in the bargain, whi¢h no doubt you would be called upon to pay for.” All this was said pleasantly enough, but in a tone that had menace in it. The two partners in crime once more ex- changed inquiring glances. Just what to make of the man who stood coolly before them, they did not seem able to decide. “Well,” King finally said, ‘‘I will tell you what I will do with you, sir! I bavé a sus- picion, like my companion, that you came here to spy upon us, for dishonorable purposes, and if I thought sure you did, it would be the worse for you, and don’t forget that. We are not men who like to have our private business pried into by spies. Promise me to say nothing of this affair—that, during our residence at this hotel,. you keep clear of it, and last but not least, refund the money you bave won, and we will permit you to go, Promise this, by all you hol sacred!” ‘*{ promise nothing!” Dick returned, dogged- ly. “I’m not that sort of a bair-pin, and the sooner you know it the more congenial you will find it for yeur personal safety, Open that door!” And into the detective’s hands leaped sud- denly a pair of revolvers, that bad a decidedly dangerous look. Captain King uttered a savage grow). **'You dare not shoot!” he snarled, “Better not dare me!” Dick retorted. ‘* Men whose lives have been spenton the far frontier are not prone to taking dares—especially, not from forgers, and scoundrels, in general! Will you open the door, Mr. King!” King turned to Moore, ‘Give me the key,” he directed. ‘It is not befitting our honor, as gentlemen, to longer harbor this desperado,” Moore instantly gave up the key, a frightened look upon his none to ruddy face. J Nik: eo} ys sl ea ey etal OM, Se a iat King arose and opened the door. ‘* Now, then git!” be ordered, “and look well that you keep away from this hotel, for if I get. a drop on you, your name is Denis? We Arkan- sas gentlemen are not in the babit of being bullied by cowboys!” : “Glad to hear it,” Dick smilingly replied, ‘*and should it ever ba your lot to meander beyond the raging Missouri, no doubt you will find plenty of opportunity for securing sanguin- ary satisfaction. If you two rascals are typical specimens of Arkansas gentlemen, I deem it an honor that Arkansas does not claim me asa citizen. Good evening, gentlemen” Fy And, with asuave bow, the Prince of Detec- tives withdrew from the room, and left the hotel. His first work was to make a reconnoissance to- ascertain how many exits there were from the hotel, by which escape might be effected, and having satisfied himself in this respect, he stood at the corner of Fifth and Vine, in meditation, when he received a hearty slap on the shoulder, and wheeling, found himself in the serene pres- ence of the Bull-dog from Butte. “The blazes!’ Dick ejaculated. “ What are you doing here? Thought I told you to stay in the house?” “ The Bull-dog gave a sniff of disgust. “Did, bey? Buh! what d’ye take me forf Do I look a shiverin’ sky-terrur, what war fetched up on ther parlor sofer? Not much! I’m ther Bull-dorg from Butte, an’ ther only one 0’ ther breed they’ve got out thet way, ac. kin fight!” - ‘‘ But, what are you doing here? It’s nearly midnight, you see!” “ Midnight? Hub! why, man alive, thet’s ther very hour I allers howl. Ther’ ain’t no half-ways bull-dorg as goes prowlin’ around earlier’n that, or the dog-ketcbers w’u’d gobble him up, fer sure. Ye see, I bad a kinder rotten idear that mebbe, ye had got inter some complereated defickelty, and then, sez I, ef ther’s a musical festival goin’ on down thet way, l’m. goin’ ter be on hand ter howl wi’ ther chair, How is things?” “Ob! no par icular developments yet,” Dick replied, and related his experience in Moore's room. “The gol-durned sneakin’ coyotes!” the Bull- dog snorted, in supreme disgust. “I’ve a mind ter waltz up thar, and skulp ’em alive.” ‘Nonsense. That could do no gocd, But, I'll tell you what you. may do. Stand here on the corner, a few minutes and keep an eye on the front and side entrances to the hotel. If you see either King or Moore, or both, leave the hotel, take the trail, and don’t giveit up. I'll not be gone long.” : “Which way you goin’?” : “To Police Headquarters. This hotel must not remain unwatched & Minute, for the two- rascals will make a break, as soon as they im- agine themselves, safe in doing so. - I will get a couple of detectives, for night duty, as_we shai} need our energies for the day work. It is only by constant shadowing that we can hope for success, for I have no doubt we bave as cunning a pair of scoundrels to deal with as you can scare up in the West!” “ All right, steer ahead, pard, and I'll keep. my blizzard eye out fer squalls!” the Bull-dog: assured, grimly. CHAPTER VIII. SECURING ‘‘ SUBS,” So Dick took leave of the Bull-dog from: Butte, and sought a neighboring drug-stores **Can you direct me,” he asked, after purchas- ing a cigar, ‘‘so that, I can quickly and easily find Police Headquarters?” ** Police court is at Ninth street and Centra}: avenue, Do you wish to go by cars?” ‘*No, by cab, That will be much the quick- est, I presume?” “Yes, from bere it will be.” ; “Have you a telephone, by which I could’ make verbal communication?” — “We have, but, if youare in any hurry, I think you will find it advantageous to go in per-- son, for, after tbis bour of night, the telephone company is not very noted for being expeditious in the transaction of business, At least I have. not found them so, and being night clerk, here, | I have frequent occasion to use the *pbone.” “Thank you, no doubt youareright. Tam, very much obliged to you.” Dick then left the store, and hiring @ cab, was: soon at Police Headquarters, and in the presence- of the night captain, an astute looking mam with an eagle eye. Dick introduced himself by presenting his. card, and exposing his shield. ~

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oe re Se ra sats ~ naw) x scratched his head, thoughtfully. ‘It occurs to me I’ve heard of you before, in connection with some Western work—at Denver, l’ve an idea.” “Yes, [ worked up a job there, within the present year,” Dick replied, ig “Yes, yes! Well, Mr. Bristol, I am right glad to meet you. Of what service can I be to you?” “Tam at work on a very important case!” Dick explained. ‘‘Do you happen to have a couple of private detectives I can employ for night-watchers—men who can be implicitly re- lied upon to attend to the duty assigned them? Their pay will be satisfactory, and they can go off duty at seven in the morning. My partner and I will look after the day work.” ‘What is the nature of the job?” the captain asked. ‘‘Of course we are, in a measure, in duty bound to accommoda e you, but we always hke to know something of a case when we place our men,” ‘Nothing more natural. The case is this: At one of your principal hotels two adroit scoun- drels are stopping, who will attempt to escape frcem the city at first opportunity, when they think they will not be liable to be nabbed. They are assoviates in a heinous scheme concerning oae of your well-known citizens and his daugh- ; Re avige * Tt is not our purpose to arrest them just yet, but it is imperative that when they leave that hotel, their every movement be shadowed, be it for a day, a week, or a year. Their move- ments, actions, and associations must be known. The gentleman in whose employ I am will foot all the bills, he being several times over a mil- lionaire.” The captain elevated his eyebrows. — ‘** And who may your employer be, if the case is of such magnitude?” he queried. ‘‘ Mr, Jabez Clincher. You probably know of him?” The captain whistled. ‘* Well, I should say so! He is a personal,ac- quaintance of mine,” ** Well, he is the backer,” “Then that settles that. You shali have the men, I know the pay will be all right. We've furnished Clincher with men before, but they were not successful on the work. And so you have got hold of the case?” sé Yes.” ** Do you expect to win?” ‘“*T do. I have for a number of years been re- markably successful.” ; ‘** But you'll find this a tough one,” ‘*Maybe—maybe not. lost a case yet!” “Then you are phenomenon, men?’ ** One is Moore, the other a scamp of the same caliber.” ; ‘* What hotel are they at?’ ‘The Palace. Of course that don’t cast any reflection on the place, as they are there under assumed names.” “Oh, of course! men?” ** At once,” ‘You are sure that those men are at the hotel?” 7 ‘* Positive. I have seen them both.” ‘“Why not arrest them, and have done with the matter at once?” _“* Because they must be shadowed until they disclose the whereabouts of Clara Clincher, if she oe living, and of her son, whom I have proof is i Raby ai , iving. : , at 1, Tbe captain shrugged his great broad shoul- I have to say I never Who are those When do you want your ders. “T'm of the opinion that you have tackled a tough job,” he said. ‘‘ However, that’s none of my business. I wish you all success in the world, Here, Jerry!” This to the office messenger, who was fast asleep. 5 » Jerry arose, with a yawn, rubbed his eyes, ‘and shuffled to the desk. “Go order Stinson and Blackman to report imediately for duty,” the captain ordered. Tell them it’s important. Hurry, now!” Jerry left the office with but a little more alacrity than a snail, and during his absence, t Dick and the captain bad a smoke and a chat, The detectives arrived in about half an hour. _ They were shrewd, wide-awake looking fellows, : oe being introduced to Deadwood Dick, the police captain briefly but clearly explained . i what they were wanted fe “a cs for. : _ They agreed to enter Dick’s employ at a mod- ched the bargain with a retainer. bh and Vine Ree Ny et hs they left for | streets, in Dai : me * { - Ep rate eee amount per diem, and Dick at |. Deadwood Dick Jr. in Cincinnati, — oh * Ah! Bristol! Bristol!” and the captain | the cab which Dick had chartered, and en route, he gave the detectives a description of Moore and King. ‘**Ob! Pll know Moore, when I see him,” Stin- son remarked. ‘‘I had adeal with him, some years ago, and got soaked, and I’m not afther fergitten his mug, bad luck to bim!” V hen they reached Fifth and Vine streets, the Bull-dog was still doing duty, with the pertina- city of the canine from whom be had taken his must extraordinary nickname, ‘* Any news?” Dick queried, as he and hiscom- panions alighted from the conveyance, | ‘** Nothin’ more than thet King waltzed down | stairs, got a bottle filled, and waltzed back ag’in. Reckon they’re corraled safe enuff, fer the | night. **Tt may be, but it won’t do to take any rocky | chances, you see. They may try totake a sneak in the morning’s early hours.” He then issued instructions to the local detec- tives, and entering the cab, he and the Bull-dog | were driven to Mount Auburn, where they were soon in sound repose, in the latter’s room. Dick was so much fatigued, thro :gh his ex- ertions of the previous day, that ne slept like a | burgomaster. And the chances are big that he would have slep8 until noon, had he not been awakened at daybreak, by young Clincher rude- ly shaking him. ‘* Get up! get up!” the Bull-dog cried. “Why, what’s the matter?” Dick sleepily de- manded. ‘*Matter? Why, darn it, there’s heaps the matter. The old man's been salivated!” ** What?” ‘* True as acorns grows on oaks!” ‘**'You don’t mean killed? Impossible!” *" Waal, no, he hain’t dead, but some galoot hes carved him up purty much, Guess he ain’t dangerous off, but he aire ruther carved up, an’ y@ kin bet on et!” “This is Boggs’s work,” Dick decided, as he leaped out of bed, and began to dress himself, ‘* an’ that devil, King, hired him to do it!” CHAPTER IX. A COWARDLY ASSAULT—ESCAPED. Ir did not take the detective long to dress, and then he followed the Bull-dog hastily down-stairs—for Mr. Clincher occupied a suite of rooms on the first floor, just off the parlor. . Here a terrible sight awaited Dick’s gaze. In the parlor, instead of in his own apart- ments, the elder Clincher lay, outstretched upon the floor, unable to arise, from weak- ness through loss of blood, with which the moquette carpet was literally saturated. He was liberally slashed up, about the face, with a knife, and, as Dick found, on exam- ination, had two shots in the left breast. But they were not deep, nor of sucha} character as to cause alarm. Mr. Clincher was unconscious. ‘“‘Is the old man a goner?” whispered the Bull-dog. ‘‘Nothing of the sort!” Dick replied. “He’s better than a graveyard full o' dead men, yet. Where's your sister?” “In bed.” “Go call ber. I want bandages!” “Tm afraid tew, pard. Ye know gals ain’t got as strong narves as—” ** Nonsense!” retorted Dick, sharply. ‘Ill bet Miss Cora has more nerve than you have, in a crisis of this sort. Go do my bidding, and then hurry back. D’ye hear?” The Butte City Bull-dog stared. He was not used to being bossed about in this style, evidently; but, catching the determined glit- ter in Deadwood Dick’s eyes, he left the his sister. It was barely daybreak, and Dick pre- sumed the official with whom he had con- sulted the previous evening would not yet be | off duty; so he sought the telephone, one of which instruments graced the Clincher li- brary, and cailed up the Central Office. ‘Hello! that you, Central?” ** Correct ” ; ‘Give me Police Headquarters.” . “Allright. Good-by.” 4 ae pin ag aah . Jing-a-ling-a jing «Hello Y room and ambled off up-stairs, in search of | “ Hello!” **Is that you, captain?” ‘Yes. Who are you?” ‘* Bristol, detective.” ** What do you want?” ** Have the force keep a sharp lookout for a man called Boggs—a tough—and arrest him at sight!” “Allright. What for?” ** Attempted murder.” ‘* All right. Good-by.” ** Good-by!” Jing-a,ling-a jing! “j When Dick got back to the parlor the Bull-dog had returned. ‘*Sis will be down in a minnit!” he an- nounced. ‘*She’s got grit, sis has, by blazes! She tuk the matter calmer than I thort she would, lynch me ef she didn't! She’s clear Clincher, frum hoof to horns, an’ don’t ye — fergit that!” Dick made no reply, but set to work. Ex- perience now stood him in well, for it had made him a capital impromptu surgeon. As soon as Cora came down, pale, but more composed than Dick had thought she would be under the circumstances, he or- | dered brandy and bandages, and soon was dressing Clincher’s wounds, with delicate and skillful touch. ‘‘Is he dangerously hurt?” Cora asked, — with much concern. ‘*I should say not,” he replied. ‘‘ Hell” no doubt be sore for a time, but he is one of those tough old Yankee hickory-nuts that is | hard to crack. We'll be having him talking | of pork in a few days, never fear.” The impromptu surgeon at length had old | Clincher patched up so that he might have | been mistaken for an Egyptian mummy of. huge size. ia Brandy was then urged down his throat, and had the effect to restore him to con- | sciousness, He opened his eyes, stared around him a moment confusedly, then, with a snort, sat bolt upright. a ‘‘Thunder ’n’ Mars! What's the matter?” he demanded, feeling of his face. ** You ought to know best,” Dick replied. ‘“You were found here on the parlor floor, | taking aswim in your own blood, and I’ve} been trying to put you together as best I) could. How do you feel?” an ‘* Like as if ’d been chawed up by a pas- sel of condemned hogs, what hadn’t had no} corn fer a month. aGive me some brandy. I feel as weak as a stuck shoat!” **T don’t wonder. You've lost enough gore to make an elephant stagger,’ Dick re-| plied, as he administered the drink. ‘* You've had a tough time of it, but if you keep quiet for a few-days you will come out all right.” Swallowing the brandy, Clincher sat fora few minutes in silence, staring at the blood- soaked carpet. 4 ‘** Looks as ef I had been in the soup,” he} muttered. ; Then, rising, he walked to the and took a survey of himself. *‘Huh!” he commented. ‘‘ Pork is down, sure. Am I dangerously wounded?” Pa: ‘*Not necessarily so,’ Dick replied. ‘‘ The most you need is quiet—perfect rest and freedom from excitement.” fe “Oh, I’m not dead yet,” the old man said, analy ‘‘The Clinchers, of Clincherville, ie hard.” , a “You bet they do!” chimed in the Bull- dog, ie prarugpeag a ““They sprout from the old stock, and I'll go ten to one that ther vld man could lick his weight in wildcats this very minnit!” " ‘‘T'd like ter have the skunk here that frescoed me, and I’d show ye!” Clincher, Sr., averred. a “Do you remember the particulars of the assault, Mr. Clincher?” Dick inquired, s what amused. Ree) ‘Yas, some of ’em!” was the answer. had gone to roost, an’ I woke up ‘bou Sy a + pier-glass

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yas = SS a ee Gera + peter rT ttergegt sonal gthe a —teg thn at A lg tet Pony apm om vee ux -- ee eres ; t i { ; f | money?” me, we’d better be getting down-town. Sth A ee et a LES at o’clock, an’ heered some one perambulatin’ about the parlor hyer. I got up, slid inter my clothes, and waltzed out here, to see who it was—an’ I drew a prize. I see, dark as it was, that et was a burglar, and I immegetly went fer him fer all I was wu'th, an’ we hed a lively tussle, I kin tell you. 1 finally got a terrific whack over the head, and that’s the last I remember,” ‘Don’t remember being carved up, eh?” “No. I haven't got the slightest recker- leckshun of it.” ** Well, do youremember what kind of a lookin’ man it was who assaulted you?” ‘* No—that is, not enuff so I could describe him. Ef I was ever to see him ag’in, tho’, I could pick him out.” **Do you remember if he was short and stout?” “Yes, he was just that.” “Then, I know him. It was Boggs, the man ‘who was conversing with Cap King, in the bar of the Palace Hotel, and there can be no doubt that a job was put up to kill you. I have already telephoned the police to look out for Boggs. Have you lost any Clincher felt for his pocketbook. ‘* By thunder, yes. My waliet is gone!” ‘* How much was in it?” ** Nearly a thousand dollars. watch and chain is missin’, too! both robbed and murdered.” * Not quite murdered,” Dick returned, “but you had aclose call for it.” ‘* What’s to be did?” It was the Bull-dog who asked this. **I don’t know,” Dick replied, ‘except to leave the Boggs matter to the police for in- vestigation. We shall have all we can do to look after the other case. And that reminds Stin- son and Blackman go off duty at seven, and we must be at our post. Miss Cora can look after your father’s welfare better than either of us, no doubt.” ‘Who aire Stinson and Blackman?” de- manded Mr. Clincher. Dick briefly explained. ‘*Good!” Clincher commented. ‘I see ou’ve nothing left undone, and I’m glad of it. D'ye think them skunks will try to sn2ak away from the hotel?” “Yes—if they see a chance.” ‘Then you’ve made arrangements ter foller ther cusses?” ~ ‘“Yes. Unless my plans miscarry, we’ll be close onto their heels.” * Yer kin bet we will!” emphatically de- clared Clincher, Jr. ‘‘An’ ef ye heer ther howl of a college-educated buil-dorg any- My gold I’ve been whar within a hundred mile o’ heer, ye kin oS _ put et down that we've won the pot.” { ( i \ a ie 7 i } MY er, “Go et, boys—go et, my sons!” old Clincher said, tears filling his eyes—‘‘ for ye’r’ both like sons to me, darned ef ye ain’t. An’ if ye need money, or want a hand in a fracas, jest work the wires, and old Clincher will be thar, ef et takes a leg.” Dick and the Bull-dog set out for down- town in the Clincher carriage. ‘I didn’t want you or your sister to be alarmed,” Dick said, en route, ‘but your father has had a mighty close call, Only for his wonderful vitality, he’d have been in need of a wooden overcoat, ere now.” ‘Ga By The Bull-dog looked anxious. | ¥e don’t reckon he’s likely to croak, do pi hS ye?” = id “* He ain’t the kind as dies easy, as he said. - Do you know, however, whether he has got fe ** Yes, before I j'ined ye in ther evenin’. _his will made or not?” _ The Bull dog smiled. It was made yesterday afternoon, I sug- ested it, and ther old man consented.” ‘Good idea. Then the sharks at the hotel yon’t have a chance to geta finger in the The Bull-dog grinned. Nary a finger! I happen to hev an idea rw. : 5 Bie e. even if your father should pop off.” Si ses mywen sas amemoey — nn or two, ef I hev spent most o’ my life ’mong’ wolves, coyotes an’ rattlesnakes, an’ occa- sional turkey-buzzards. Thar be some ana- miles ain’t as smart asa thoroughbred bull- dorg.” “You're right, there,” Dick admitted. “* From what I have seen of you, Mr. Clincher, Isee no reason why you should underrate yourself,” ‘*Oh! Pm nothin’ buta howlin’ bull-dorg!” Clincher declared, with a shrug; ‘‘ but, wher. I howl, I ginerally make myself heard fer a mile.” They were soon at Fifth and Vine, where they alighted. It was not quite seven A. m., by Dick’s watch; nevertheless, Stinson and Blackman, the detectives, were nowhere to be found. “This is a rum go!” Dick growled. ‘‘Them chaps were not to go off duty until seven, and it’s not seven yet, by a jugful.” ‘‘ Ef they’ve desarted, they orter be strung up,” the Bull dog asseverated. 1 Just then, a bootblack approached. ‘* Be either you fellers Bristol?” he asked. ‘I’m the man!” Dick replied. ‘* Why do you inquire, my boy?” ‘‘ Because I’ve got a letter fer ye. Jimmy Stinson give it to me, an’ sed 1 was ter watch fer a hack wi’ two fellers, one having a bali- dog face. Guess yer friends is after the persimmons.” Dick seized the extended letter, in nervous haste, and tore it open, to read: “ DETECTIVE BRISTOL: — “They’ve gone, and we’re after ’em. Come to Covington, Ky., and wait for news at the Ashbrook Hotel. We will wire you, as soon as we know any- thing definite. STINSON AND BLACKMAN,” CHAPTER X. \ MR. PETER PEPPER. “WELL,” Dick said, ‘‘ we shall have to vamose the camp.” He then showed the letter to the Bull-dog, with the additional question: “* Ever been over there?” ‘*No. ’Spose we’d better tackle it, eh?” *“T see no other way. I would like to kno-y how long they’ve been gone, how- ever.”’ He then recalled the bootblack. ** When did you receive this note?” he de- manided. ‘‘ Want yer boots shined?” asked Johnny, with a business twinkle in hiseye. ‘ Be- cause, ye know, boss, bizness is bizness, an’ a feller’s tongue sometimes cleaves ter ther roof 0’ his mouth ontil his muscles git exer- cise,” ‘Well, you young rascal,” Dick ejaculat- ed.” ‘“‘You deserve to be beaten. You'll make a fit subject for the workhouse.” ‘*Bin thar already,” swer. ‘‘Shine ’em, as “Yes, mouth. We ma money for you, i and more wit.” ‘Td fire the durned cuss inter the sewer,” the Bull-dog growled. ‘-You’d find thet purty hard,” the boot- black retorted. ‘‘I ain't but fifteen, but ’m tough, as any o’ ther gang kin tell ye. I've been in three prize-fights an’ two walkin’- matches, an’ never got beat yet.” ‘** Waal, you ruther make me how!!” the Bull-dog returned, io disgust, while Dick laughed heartily. ‘““What is your name, my boy?” he in- quired. The bootblack gave a sardonic grin. . “Give it up,” he said. ‘‘I was born in a snowstorm, and never hed the pleasure of seein’ my lad and mam. Allus had an ideer I was the offshoot of a marquis or a duke, or suthin’ 0” that sort.” _ “You look et,” growled the Bull-dog. ‘‘More likely ye war born of a hoss-thief.” was the laconic an- s?” o ahead, if that'll open your be able to make some you show less impudence | ‘They christened me Peter Pepper, whar | t igs h = . 2 a _—_— owes: ye. ished away at the boots. ‘* Well, go ahead and tell us when you got tne letter,” Dick commanded. “Five, this mornin’.” ““Do you know how they went after they left here?” _ “Well, no, not’zactly, Reckon, tho’, they lit out fer der ’spension bridge.” “Do hg: know Covington?” “Do 1? Well, 1 kinder reckon! My aunt lives there, and there’s where I gits my Sun- day feed.” ee Mr. Peter Pepper had finished Dick's boots. ‘*Shine up my friend’s,” Dick directed. Peter regarded the Bull-dog with a sullen scowl. *“Tunno as I orter,” he demurred. ‘‘ He’s too mighty gocd of an opinion of hisself,” at which the man from Butte was forced to laugh. ‘‘Thet kind orter have a medal,” he said. “‘ Ef he’d go West he’d make his fortune.” ** Not a-polishin’ these Saratogas!” With which caustic remark, Peter began renovating Clincher’s somewhat oversized boots. When the job was finished, Dick gave Mr. Pepper a half-dollar and said: ‘“Go get me a hack, and if you wish to accompany us, your pay will be four times that a day.” ‘* Shall I take the box along?” “No. Come, now, get a move on you!” Pepper darted away like a flash. ‘Sharp lad!” Dick observed. ‘‘He’d hang out about a day in Butte City!” the Bull-dog asseverated. ‘‘Ther remainin’ six would be devoted to his mem- ory.” Nir. Peter Pepper was assuredly a spry lad, for in less than five minutes he was back with a hack, and poked his head out of the door, with the remark: _ ‘Here we are, boss. Corral the dorg, git in, an’ tell me whar ter take yer. I’m a flea, an’ skip lively.” The two men entered the hack. “Covington,” Dick ordered, ‘‘and the Ashbrook Hotel.” But the hack did not start; some one tapped at the door. ate HE ‘* May I see you?” a voice inquired. Dick opened the door, and got out into the presence of the elder Mr, Maxwell. ‘‘My dear sir,” the gentleman said, “I saw you standing here, and, after a sharp study of you, I ps 5 he you.” ‘« Well?” Dick said, interrogatively. ‘*You are a friend of Mr. Jabez Clincher?” ‘¢'Yes.” “Will you convey to Mr. Clincher my sincere regrets for our very recent unpleasant- ness?” , _ ‘When I have time, sir, At present my time is occupied.” _ ‘Certainly. And, please say that he was right. The man he was looking for was here, but under an assumed name, They have gone—this morning at five o’clock—and left me an unpaid bill. When they came here I thought they were gentlemen. I have found, to my sorrow, that they were rogues,” a was registered as Morris?” ee, * ‘I know that. He was Moore. And his companion?” aN ‘* Cook.” Dick made a memorandum of this, ‘‘Do you know where they went?” ‘‘From all I can hear—I had a talk with Mr. Stinson, who told me who you were— they are off into Kentucky.” ‘“‘Yes, that’s correct. Is there anything more you can give’me?” ‘‘No—yes! Here is an envelope. post-mark is Newport, Kentucky. It was — found in their room!” ey ‘Good! It may give us a clew!” ‘Ts it an important case?” — Vie va The, 7); 3 I was fetched up,” the bootblack continued, bi ignoring the junior Clincher, while he pol- —

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him in the least close, so far, ~~ «state of reflection. pass ees. “1 eee). , Fa “So important that Mr. Clincher was nearly murdered this morning!” ‘The deuce! I must goand see nim at once. I say, young man, you are clever— very clever!” ‘ ‘“Thanks!” Dick replied. ‘‘I feel sure ‘Mr. Clincher will be glad to see you. Please ‘tell him that I think we are on the trail.” Dick bounded into the hack and the trio | were driven rapidly away. CHAPTER XI. A SUSPICION ABOUT PEPPER. Here Dick, alone, registered, requesting hhis companions to remain outside. Having registered, he took them to a neighboring restaurant, and ordered breakfast for all. While waiting for the repast, he questioned the bootblack: ** What places'in Newport do you know?” * Know ther hull place, boss. I was ‘sprouted up in town, over the Rhine, near as I kin figger et, an’ when I cum to ’turity, I left thet old cuss, Clincher, and went inter business for myself. Ther biz wasn’t quite so high-toned, but ther was a darned sight more money on my side o’ the ledger, by blackin’ boots, an’ don’t yer fergit it. Clinch’ was honest, but too clos’t forme. He give me ten cents a day, an’I had to board myself, an’ ef I didn’t have a clean collar every day I was fined a quarter. Fast way o’ gittin’ along, hey?” “That would seem so,” Dick responded. **But your experience seems rather queer. I have met Mr, Clincher, and I have not found You evidently are laboring undera wrong impression of the man.” Nota bitofit. Iknow him like a book.” **V’ve a mind to smash his head,” snarled the Bull-dog. ‘** Better not, boss. There’s a lot in it, if the hair is red, and et would cost you some- ‘thing to have ther mess cleaned up!” Then there was silence; the arrival of the ~ food meant business—not talk. After they had breakfasted, Dick, the Bull- ‘dog and Peter Pepper returned to the hotel, ‘where the latter two registered, and were assigned rooms, by the detective’s order. Dick went to his own, which had pre- viously been given him, and waited, in a If his sub-detectives were on the track, they would soon inform him, he argued; so, not knowing what time he might be called upon for action, Le laiddown and took a nap. This oceupied a couple cf hours, by which time the Bulldog rapped upon the door loudly: ** Cattle on ther ranch!” Opening the door, the Bull-dog stood there with a messenger. ‘‘ News!” the Bull-dog announced. Dick took the message, which proved to be from Stinson and Blackman, and was sent from Newport, Ky. “Not sure that we are on the right track,” it said, “‘but feel confident. However, come on, with Money, Our own is near played out.” “Mighty indefinite,” Dick mused, “but I suppose we shall have to go. to come here!” , The Montanian disappeared, and soon re- - turned with the lad. ‘What do you know of Newport?” de- manided Dick. ** Know et all.” ““Where do you think Stinson and his companion would be likely to put up?” The gamin reflected a moment. “Well,” he said, “I can’t jast say the exact spot, but I shouldn’t be ‘s’prised ef I ¢’u’d find ’em.” ‘Allright, There we go.” _ All forthwith left the Ashbrook, and Pep- d a cab that would take them to per haile T Wwport. F ii eno ‘ance is short, nd ore long they Herman’s Hotel. 2 ok, ‘ ’ Payee Dea Tell Pepper Jr. my 4 pare 4 ok Pai it ant ) a 1 Y ia ood Di in Cincinnati.. ee si ES SO Ns ‘ eS " uo = mA . an “You go on to Farmer’s Hotel,” Pepper tience as was at his command, but in vain. said, ‘‘and wait there. If I dont find out nothin’ here I'll j'ine ye. IfI doTIll send a kid I know. Yer can shake the hack when ye git there, fer mebbe we will hev to look all over Newport for ’em, an’ thar’s lots of walkin’ room layin’ round loose here.” When the hack wheeled away there was a queer expression on the countenance of the man from Butte. ‘Say, that boy’s a corker, ain’t he?” **T thought you were of a different opin- ion,” Dick observed. ‘*T was, at first. His cheek ruther made me howl, ’cause, ye know, I hevn’t been uste ter that sort o’ thing, and et kinder knocked me at first. But the kid has got a head on ‘im, no mistake, and I ruther begin to cotton to’im. The more I think o’ et, it strikes me I know suthin’ more about his pedigree than he knows hisself.” ‘*Well, that would be welcome news to the lad, I presume.” ‘* How old d’ye allow he is?” ‘* Fifteen, I should say.” ‘‘Then thet orter fetch et. me conglomerate.” The Bull-dog evideatly meant deliberate. ‘It was "bout long enough ago ter give a birth when Paul’ Pepper struck our camp,” he said, ‘‘and one night when he was rolled up in er blanket, nigh on ter me, I heerd him tell a story about leavin his wife an’ baby he called Petey. It comes back ter me now as kinder queer, for he was sound asleep, an’ I was awake and takin’ et all in.” There was no time for further conversa- tion; they were at Farmer's, and there the hack was dismissed. Then they adjourned to the reading-room to wait for Peter Pepper. But Peter was not forthcoming for some time. It was fully two hours ere be put in an appearance, and then it was with a wry expression of countenance. ‘*Can’t find ’em,” heannounced. ‘‘ Hunted all over, but nobody ’pears to hev seen ’em down around Herman’s,” ‘Well, in that case, I don’t know hardly what to do,” Dick said. ‘It seems rather strange to me that they did not send me notice where to find them. However, we will wait awhile. It may be a plan to throw us off the trail, I think, Pepper, you had better go and look around a little Jonger. You might stumble onto them, ere you know it, or if not them, you might hit the original prey.” ‘** Reckon I'll need some money, boss, I’ve got an idear, but it is too far to walk to git it,” Pepper said. ‘* Allright. How much do you think you will need?” ‘* Not over fifty cents.” “ All right. ere it is.” The bootblack took ‘t and started. ‘* Honest boy, that,” the Bull-dog observed, sarcastically. ‘Why not?” “D’ye see that devil’s gleam in his eye when he asked ye for that money?” ‘*No.” 7 ‘Well, you kin jest bet it war thar, an’ I allow I seen et!” Dick thought a moment, and then said: *“May be I’d ought to foller the kid. Blame me if I don’t, just for curiosity’s sake.” oe he bolted off in pursuit, of his assist- ant, . Wait! Let CHAPTER XII. THE BOOTBLACK’S RETURN. THE scene changes. It is three weeks later, and three men and a boy are standing on the river landing at Newport, Ky. They are the Bull-dog, Mr. Clincher, Sr., and a Cincinnati detective, named Hollis; also Pete Pepper. When we last mentioned Deadwood Dick, ” he was about to set.out in pursuit of Peter, whom he suspecte¢), of being “‘ off color, The Bull-dog ¢ye;ted with as much pa- yond vee s4 ; Dick did not return, nor did Peter, and careful research failed to discover anything of Messrs. Stinson and Blackman’s where- abouts. Now, the Bull-dog admired his new friend, Bristol, with the strong emphasis that char- acterizes the natures of most Western men, and he left no stone unturned to discover his whereabouts; but, not a trace of Dick, Pep- per, Stinson or Blackman could he secure. At Police Headquarters in Cincinnati, nothing had been heard from the Jocal detec- tives. So, after waiting at the Farmer’s in New- port fortwo weeks, and dividing his time between there and the Herman, the Bull-dog returned to his father’s house, in Cincinnati, and there remained, father and son anxiously hoping for developments. But. hours slipped into days, and days into a week, and it was the beginning of a new week, ere any word came from the missing ones, It came in the shape of aring at the door of the Clincner mansion, at Mount Auburn, The Bull-dog answered the bell. And there stood Peter Pepper! “Well, what d’ye want?” growled. ‘*Wanter speak wid ye, or yer dad,” was the response. ‘‘ Reckon yer dad would be best, fer may be he would be less cranky wid me than you are.” And actual tears came to the bootblack’s eyes—who can say but they were the first that had ever dimmed them? He looked completely fagged out, and if there was any sensitiveness in his nature he must have felt hurt. The Bull-dog probabl realized this, for he seized the boy’s ‘mane and said: ; ‘*Forgive me, an’ waltz right in! I’m rough in my ways, an’ I allow you're no slouch o’ a squib, or ye wouldn’t ha’ come Bull-dog back here with news, an’ ef my think aire, correct, that’s what you’re here for.” *‘Couldn’t guessed _ straighter,” averred, and was then conducted into the parlor. ; Old Jabez had sufficiently recovered to be about the house, but had not yet been down to Change, as his financial affairs were in trustworthy hands. He was now seated in an easy-chair, looking very grave. ‘This is Pepper, the bootblack,” an- nounced the Bull-dog, ‘He sez he’s got news!” Jabez Cincher eyed tbe bootblack in doubt. ‘** Well, what is your news?” he demanded. ‘Don’t come here with no lies, for they won't work.” ‘‘Thain’t got no lies to tell ye,” Pepper declared. ‘‘If I had, I’m too weak to tell ‘em. For sake o’ my love fer that gallus chap, Deadwood Dick, mister, I’ve come all ther way back, an’ been widout anythin’ to eat for forty-eight hours, ’Sides that, I’ve spent all the money I’d saved up, a-blackin’ boots. ‘If you don’t mind givin’ me « bite o’ grub I'll feel like talkin ‘tween bites, Tl tell ye the one thing as mebbe you'll ’preciate even from a bootblack. Yer gal is still ‘live an’ kickin’, Won’t say ’nuther word till I git sum chuck; then yer sball know all.” Then poor Pepper sunk back in his chair, closed his eves, and actually relapsed into unconsciousness. : “«He’s cl’ar kerflunk!” the Bull-dog ejacu- lated, and forthwith bolted from the room, while o!d Ciincher knelt in front of the chair he had just been occupying, and offered up a silent, but fervent prayer. _The Bull-dog soon darted back with a : brandy-bottle, and poured a little of it down the bootblack’s throat. “Dad,” he said, turning to Clincher, Sr., ‘‘ this kid’s a jim-dandy.”’ . Mr. Clincher bad just arisen from his — wi, knees, with tears in his eyes. Peter

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-et got here quicker’n lightnin’, ' throat. ‘‘Sonny,” he said, ‘‘them’s the first real tears I’ve shed sence yer mother died, but ef what the boy sez be true he'll never hev to work ag’in while J live!” “Bully fer you, dad! turned up yer toes I'll see he won’t want for an’ after you’ve nothin’ Ah! he’s comin’ to. The brandy hes fixed him!” ‘«Then go order the cook an’ darter ter get the best fodder ther’ is in the house, and have I'll bet the boy kin eat a shoat all by himself. Poor feller!” and old Clincher knelt, and chafed the bootblack’s hand, while tears coursed down his furrowed cheeks. ‘Ter think he’d a-done all o’ this fer me! He’s one 0’ ther old stock, an no mistake about thet. Poor boy! 1 never was much fer charity, but this ar’ the sort as desarves et, an’ he'll get et, ef I hev ter part wi’ every hog I’ve got at the yards.” Peter scon came back into the realms of consciousness with a gasp, and stared around him. ‘« Where am 1?” he demanded; then, espy- ing Clincher, he put his hand to his head. ‘«Oh, [know. Iam at old Clincher’s. Yes, I come d'rect heer from the ferry. Guess I fell asleep, eh, boss?” ** You fainted, my boy,” Clincher replied huskily. “Oh! that’s it. I got here, and had to huga lamp-post. I tell ye yer gal was all right?” “You did.” ; “Then, will you let me lay down on that sofa a minute till my head gitsclearer? Dun- no what ails me. I feel as if i’d been drink- in’, but I hain’t.” Old Clincher averted his face to conceal a smile, for he knew what the matter was. In his haste the Bull-dog had put too much of the rich old brandy down the bootblack’s No wonder Pepper thought he had been ‘ boozing.” He lay on the sofa a while scratching away Felt kinder faintish fore Did * at his head; then he sat up. ‘*T feel beter now,” he said, ‘‘’cept I’m hungry. But you kin kick me from here clear over the Rhine if I know where I got the jag.” This was too much for Clincher. He could enjoy a good joke as well as the next one. He had kept a sober face half afraid the brandy would do more harm than good; but now he could hold in no longer, and roared with laughter, ‘What ye laffin’ at?” Peter demanded. ‘*Sonny,” the hog magnate said, ‘‘ while was in a faint you needed su’thin’ ter brace you out o’ it, an’ so my son he chucked some sperits down you, and I reckon he over- estimated your capacity, an’ give yer too much!” _ Just then the Bull-dog re-entered. ‘Yer supper will be heer in a jiffy, my lad,” he announced, ‘‘and after you've hed er fodder, we’ll wanter hear yer adventures, ut in ther mean time, will ye answer two questions?” : ** Reckon | kin do that.” : ‘* Where is my friend, Deadwood Dick?” ‘*Same’s yer sister—a prisoner.” ‘*And the other two detectives—Stinson and Blackman?” ‘« Stinsterson he tuck sick at Louisville, an’ last we heerd o’ Blackman, he had gone on a false scent way off to Little Rock. We, by luck, struck a different trail, an’ we follered et night an’ day. That’s why I’m so played out. At last we were s’prised, an’ Dick was knocked silly and captured. I slid fer heer, fer money, grub, an’ reinforcements. You two chaps hev got ter pull on yer travelin’- caps, and go ‘long wid me.” _ ** Where?” “‘Tennessee. In de mount’ins.” «You will not be able to start to-night?” ‘*Muchly not. I must have rest. After supper, I skin fur hum. To morrow morn- | you!) f 1d m 7 y fe work ag’in.” mat: “ uD i 5 / ; 4 ~Deadwoo : i er ler aoe — ‘ MN al ‘a a Ha ~ b tee Pit aihe: 7 ih ee Supper was served and Pepper gorged himself; then, equipped with money, he de- parted, which brings us up to the opening line of this cbapter. While eating, we may add, the boy had told the Clinchers of his adventures. ‘* When I went off in s’arch o' Stinson and Blackman,” he said, ‘‘I was not long in diskiverin’ that I was bein’ follered by Dead- wood Dick. I reckoned he were suspicious o’ me, but I kept right on; but he still dogged me. Byme-by, he see I was all right, and jiined me an’ we continued the search to- gether. “We found Stinson and Blackman at the Newport river front, an’ they were waitin’ fer a down-river steamer. They stated thet Moore an’ King had taken a boat ahead of us an’ had purchased tickets for Cairo, [ler- nois. ‘*So, when ther boat came erlong, we all took passage. The blokes must ’a’ hed a chap a watchin’, ter put ther coves on guard, fer when we got ter Cairo, we found thet the two hed fled down to Arkansas, or had slid up stream inter Tenne see, “Stinson took sick, and Blackman, who thought the game had gone to Little Rock, sed he’d go thar. Dick tried ter argue wid him, but he wouldn't hev it, an’ so Dick told him to go ahead ef he wanted to. ‘*He waited, along wid me, in Cairo, fer two days, afore we got any news; then he found out from a gambler as he had spottea as one of King’s chums, that Kingand Moore had gone back on their tracks and made a run up into Tennessee beyond Nashville, gittin’ off at a place called Fosterville, whar they would meet some confederates an’ go up to a place they had in the bills. “That was nuts fer us, sc away we went for Fosterville, about four days behind the game, but the scent was hot an’ Dick kept it, I tell you / ‘* When we arruv at Fosterville, Dick he soon learned all about the lay ov the land, an’ which way the trail into the bill led. So we got hosses an’ started and rode a hull day, when we stopped with a planter named Par- sons, fur the night. From him Dick gota cheap o’ news about a place up in the hills whar King and Moore often went, for Par- sons had kept them over night often. This rendyvous was kept by old Zep King, who Dick beiieved was the gambler’s father, an’ a hard old nut he was, accordin’ to Parscns’s ay. Y. Well, in the mornin’ Dick left me_ with the planter, an’ takin’ his bearin’s, as he called it, said he would go and reconnoiter. ‘* fe didn’t come back till near night, an’ thea he was as white as plaster-paris. He called me aside, an’ he sez fo me: ‘I’m wounded, but not seriously. They know we are on their track, and are surrounded by a big gang of men who will stand by ’em. Ther’s not enuff people around heer to help us. I’m goin’ back on watch duty to see they don't escape. If I see they go to sleep, I'll be back by daybreak. Ef I'm not back then, you'll off for Cincinnati. an’ fetch the Bull-dog back with reinforcements. 1 will most likely have been captured, or maybe killed. Tell old Clincher his daughter is still alive, Tell the Bull-dog to bring men as ain’t afraid to fight, an grow under your feet, if I’m not back.” “ AndT didn’t, you.can bet your boots! I came back as quick as railroads could bring me, and now you knowallil know. A gango’ men must go ter her rescue.” This was thesum and substance of the reve- lation made by the bootblack to the Clinchers before he left ‘‘fer hum.” ee nm CHAPTER XIII. OFF FOR TENNESSEE, don’t let the grass’ Dick Jr. in Cincinnati. — eo ay it with reinforcements, prior to their departur for Tennessee. wet When the Bulldog returned from Cincin- nati, he had been accompanied by six sturdy fellows of his own type. Mr. Clincher was in excellent spirits over the probable recovery of his daughter, but anxious about the safety of Deadwood Dick. Peter Pepper had had a solid night’s rest, a change of raiment, and was feeling like a fighting-cock, The Bull-dog, enveloped in a huge overcoat, strode to and fro restlessly. “I do wish we could be movin'!” he growled; but in a little while he cried: “*Hurra! thar comes ther boyees!” A little steamer was just nosing in, and the Bull-dog espied some of his men—the ‘* Bully Boys from Butte,” as he denominat- ed them. As soon as they landed, the party set out. for the nearest restaurant and had a ** feed,” for the hour being so early, none of them bad yet breakfasted. While they ate it was discussed which was. the nearest way to reach a point, where young Pepper averred he could take the part of scout and lead the party to Planter Pargons’s, and the planter would guide them into the mountains, P, ‘* Well, I reckon we'd better take to the cars at once. The Central aire the nighess. route I know of. Et runs straight for Chat- tanooga. Bin over et myself, after hogs.” Old Clincher had not come short-handed ~ for money, and the whole party were soon on the Southern Express, speeding along at the rate of thirty miles an hour, en route for Fos- | terville, which was reached that evening at dusk. It was now night, and altbough young Pepper was eager for starting for the adja- cent hills where he supposed his much _be- loved Deadwood Dick was a prisoner, Mz. Clincher, who was weak and tired, objected, So the party put up at the best tavern the village afforded. But between the Bull-dog and Pepper there was an understanding, and that understand- ing was to the effect that they were to make a nocturnal trip to the Parsons plantution. So, after supper the two ordered their horses of a livery man, and set off. ; The bootblack took the lead, but with re- markable cleverness, and in the course of a few hours they reached the house of Parsons. Parsons, who was a strapping, big-hearted fellow, welcomed Peter, cheerily, and like- wise, William Clincher. P= ‘« Well, what's the news?” Peter asked. ‘Heard anything from my chum?” *‘Nothing!” Parsons replied. ‘I’m ’fraid et isall up with him. It was atough gang as hung out at old Zeb King’s. Zeb runs an ulster unlicensed still, and has a good bit of money. | put by, they say. Of course I do not med- dle, fer I’m the only farmer within ten miles o’ heer, and don’t dare interfere, for if I did, — V'd wake up some mornin’, and find myself» dead, or my buildin’s all afire. “T took a skirmish up that way, last night, tho’, fer I felt consarned about yer friend. = oe A ark, and there — But, old Zeb’s cabin war was no stir about. I didn’t dare venture too near, for if 1’d been caught, et would bin death to me, an’ my family, too.”’ ‘“What time war ye up thar?” asked the _ Bull-dog. rats ‘Not long after dark,” ‘Do they generally go that?” in the hills, know old Zeb’s as an all-ni house. His whisky costs him little, an’ h , ae big measure, an’ draws considerabl trade.” ‘ riot aN “D’ye think there: war an - purti cause fer his place bein’ dark, hen re there?’ Charley asked. “Well, I had a suspicion fe in atiempting to t 5 wy it: 4

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a A \ ee ALS te «Ait ee en! ie ee You had an idea they had taken a skip?” of anowl broke the monotony. LX vs on r give ‘Yes, Old Zeb is a sly old shark, and yet an unmitigated coward. He covets the dollar, mightily, and as his son Cap has some sugar, nothin’ is more probable than that the old man should covet some of that. In case tigat Moore and King made it an object to old Zeb to assist them, he’d be just the man to doit, for he has about as many scru- ples to deter him, as a tiger would have.” ' «Will you guide us to the cabin in the hills?” the Bull-dog asked. ‘‘ If ye will, I'll pay re, well.” *¢Tf you will wait a few minutes, my son will be here, an’ he'll go with ye. He’s more used to night skylarkin’, than I am, an’ ain’t afeard of nothin’!” : So they waited. Bob Parsons soon put in an appearance, He was a typical Tennesseean—long, lank and lean, and yet quick of movement. He was introduced to the Bull-dog and Pepper, and then his father said: ‘* Well, Bob, these fellers want a guide. D’ye want ter make a little pin-money?” “* What’s the tariff?” Bob asked. “T’ll give you ten dollars!” the Bull-dog announced. ‘‘ Huh! that’s a lot o’ money. Where d’ye wanter go?” «To the cabin of old Zeb King.” _ Mr. Parsons, Jr., shrugged his shoulders, “Ten dollars wouldn’t be much temptation fer me to enter that den,” he declared. **There’s a tough gang holds out there, and ef ye know when yer hide is safe, you'll steer clear 0’ there!” ‘*You don’t need go no nearer the place than to point it out to us,” Clincher said. ‘‘For that service I will pay you what I of- fered you.” ‘* Well, under the circumstances, I reckon I will take the job. Ll go for the hosses,” Bob soon came with the horses, and the trio at once mounted. ‘* Now be careful an’ keep shady, son,” the elder Parsons cautioned. ‘‘ Et won’t do fer you to be caught prowlin’ around, ye know.” ‘I know that, dad. I'll keep to cover as much as I can,” was the reply. ‘‘I’'ll be back all right, you can bet.” . CHAPTER XIV. : —_ *: THE LAND OF SILENCE. THE moon had not yet risen when the trio left the planter’s house. The stars were out in myriads, however, and served to dispel utter darkness from this land of silence and solitude. ' Bob Parsons took the lead—the man from Butte and Peter Pepper close at his:heels. The way lay across a rolling stretch of country, unfenced, and for the most part un- cultivated, In many places it was marsby, - and much of the time the riders were obliged to follow their guide in single file. _ At length they began to ascend a range of hills studded with timber that fire had blasted—towering pines and spectral beeches, the former looking like giants of some ante- diluvian period, and the latter like white-clad specters hovering about them. The hilly country was not exactly what could be called mountainous, but was rugged and rocky was a land of silence, for no sounds were to be heard, barring the horses’ feet as they crunched over rock and gravel. Not a night-bird’s cry, nor even the hoot " +] wouldn’t live in these parts ef they'd me ther best farm arian here,” the all-dog averred. — a Why not, Bull-dog?” Mr. Pepper de- »?? iD Ww ne ; try th ‘|, In’ Et would take more est Deadwood Dick Jr. , and scant of vegetation except | the gaunt jratinele—the trees. ed, With a grin. ** Ain’t gittin’ skeart, e ‘round hyer to! co + ae Pre = ae eo a $ ° at ea in skeer me, an’ don’t ye fergit tiat/ But et’s so infernally quiet an’ lonesome. Why, even in the wu’st solitudes o’ the West ther’s allus su’thin’ stirrin’, ter make a feller remember the world is still alive an’ kickin’. Out thar a feller is likely to run across a wolf, a red- skin, a b’ar, or now an’ then a rattlesnake. But heer, thar’s nothin’! Even the bushes don’t move, but stand still as if petrified, an’ the moon acts like it had gone on a strike. Darn me, ef this ain’t a dandy place for spooks ter hold their political caucusses!” *« These hills are what Tennesseans call the Land o’ Silence,” Bob Parsons observed, looking back over his shoulder. ‘‘ Since the fire over here a few years ago, no bird, fowl, insect or animal has been known to abide around this immeget locality.” ‘*Bully fer them!” ejaculated Clincher, with empnasis. ‘‘They’ve at least got hoss sense.” . They toiled on and upward. At last they came to a tiny rivulet, where the horses were allowed to slake their thirst. ** By cracky! that is at least one cheerin’ sight,” the Bull-dog remarked. ‘‘I didn’t know but even the water had takea a march.” ‘a Oh, you'll find it better further on,” Bob said. “Lordy! Thope so. I shall jest git off my hoss and how] ef things git any wuss.” ‘*Reckon this wouldn’t be much of a place fer shinin’ boots!” the boot artist suggested. ‘‘Tf we should run across some o’ Zeb King’s men, you’d find plenty o’ polishin’ to attend to.” An hour more of toilsome climbing brought them into a live forest of beech and hemlocks and the Bull-dog drew a breath of unmistak- able relief. ** Ah! this is more like it,” he said. ‘‘ How fur we got to go yet?” ‘*Not far. Look to your weepons, and be ready to use ’em, if we should be surprised. The chaps who hang out here are hard citi- zens, and ain’t very pertic’ler to havin’ stran- gers nosin’ around, and they don't know no more about the rules of ettiket than a nigger knows about dickshunary.” **That’s good. I’m neverso much at hum in the front parlor as when I can set my re- volvers barkin’ out opery music, and howlin the chorus!” the Bull-dog asseverated. ‘* How are you fixed for weapons, both of you?” Parsons demanded, with evident un- easiness. ‘* Pve got two revolvers as will give a chap the palpitation o’ the heart the minute he sees ‘em!” Clincher announced. *“And you, Pepper?” “ T haven’t any.” **That’s bad. Well, here, take one of mine. [ve got my Winchester rifle, and that’s good or fourteen shots in case of a fight. I’ve also one revolver. Now, re- around, look out! most likely you were spot- ted the minute you landed in Rockwood. In coer Cincinnati, ! ~tion with his forefinger. 28 ey ws a oe tS ., “Think you can find your way?” the Bull-dog asked, anxiously. ‘*Oh! yes. I’ve been in these woods be- fore. But, we shall have to dismount, and leave our horses, here.” All dismounted, and the horses were tied. to the trees. ‘** S’pose we come back, an’ find the hosses gone?”,suggested Peter. ‘Should we have. to frog it back to your dad’s?” **Reckon we would, sonny.” Peter had no relish fora mishap of this sort, but he said nothing more. Presumably he wished\ himself back in Porkopolis with his blacking kit under his atm. They now advanced into the forest, which was gruesomely lonely and silent. Bob Parsons picked his way with the skill of an experienced woodsman, and Clincher and Pete kept close behind him, for neither was willing to get lost in that dismal local- ity. After atramp of half an hour, they came to the edge of a glade, or clearing into which’ the just rising moon now cast a faint light. Here the trio halted. ‘‘Ther’s Zeb’s cabin,” Parsons whispered, pointing to a dimly-visible, long structure of logs, set down in the center of the clearing, & space covering, mayhap, ten acres. No light was visible about the place, nor,. was there any perceptible sign of life. ‘* Yes, thet’s Zeb’s,” Parsons continued, ‘‘an’ they say there’s been more blood spilt. in that den than in any other shebang in the State. There’s another buildin’, further on. That’s his illicit whisky still. I reckom there ain’t no one tew home!” “Don’t look like!’ Clincher replied. ‘“‘ Howsomedever, theré’s no sayin’, can’t tell how fur a kangaroo kin jump by the length of his tail. You two remain here, til I come back. I’m goin’ ter reconnoiter.’” ‘* Be careful!” Parsons cautioned. “I’m takin’ the chances,” was the reply. *«Don’t fret yourselves 'til ye heer this canine howl; then you’ll know the Butte City Brass: Band has begun to toot!” CHAPTER XV. TO THE RESCUE, THE opening in which Zeb King’s cabin. was located was so overgrown with bushes: and weeds that the Bull-dog foresaw a safe cover to the cabin. If there was an ambush in the grim old eabin, he would be able to approach near, if not quite to the structure, without discovery. With the stealth of a cat the man from Montana crept forward, pausing now and then to listen. In the edge of the timber Parsons and Pete were also on the alert, half expecting to soon hear sounds of a fracas in the direction of the: cabin, But they were agreeably disappointed, for in less than an hour the Bull-dog came back. ‘‘ Well, what’s ther news?” both Parsons and Pete asked in a breath. ‘*Not much.” was the grim answer. “The shebang is locked up, and the lock is on the outside o’ the door.” “T was afraid of that, They’ve skedad- dled, jest as my old man prophesied,” Par- sons declared. *T’m not so sure o’ that. I can read signs ekal ter any Injun, an’ I found tracks about the door as weren’t made more’n a couple 0” hours ago, an’ T’llswarto et.” “Hum! Which way did they lead?” ‘¢ Off yander,” and he indicated the dtrec- Parsons reflected. . Be “4 Pia) or petty ee You \

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12 Deadwood Dick Jr. in Cincinnati. ‘‘Dunno! He's taken care ter padlock the door, on the outside.” ‘* Well, what's to be done?” ‘‘ First, answer me a question. Zeb got a wife?” Has old ‘No. She’s dead, years ago.” ‘Good! There’s no danger, then. What we must do, is ter waltz right over ter that ‘cabin, force an entrance through one o’ the windows, and have a look around.” ‘* Dangerous!” Parsons said, with a shake Of his head. **Mebbe it is, but we aire armed, and if wu'st comes to wu'st we can fight. We can’t “ford to go away from here ’thout havin’a look at the insides o’ that aire cabin,” knowing ‘‘ just what 7sn’¢ thar.” ‘* Well, go ahead and we’ll follow.” The Bull-dog led off, Parsons and Pepper following him, and in due time the cabin was reached, baving been approached from the rear. There was but one window on this side. This soon yielded to the eombined efforts of the two men to raise it and the trio were soon inside. It was very dark, but the Montanan struck a match, and soon found a tallow candle, by which they were enabled to see their sur- roundings. This cabin of Zeb King, unlike most log cabins, was divided off into several compart- ments, the largest one of which’ was the bar- room, a dirty, foul-smelling place with a rough counter, and a shelf behind it contain- ing a few whisky bottles and glasses, Leaving Pepper at the cabin door, to givé an alarm, in case old Zeb or his colleagues were heard returning, the two men proceeded to investigate the place. The first room ex- amined, after the bar-room, was a bedroom —evidently where old Zeb had slept, judging by the disordered state of things. The next was asort of combined kitchen and store-room; at the last room they came to, it was discovered that the door was lock- ed, with a padlock. “By Jingo! Tll bet my boots we've struck somethin’, at last!” So, he pounded on the door, and cried. ‘* Hello! any one in there?” ““Who is it?” a faint voice replied. *‘Et’s Bill Clincher, the howling Bull- dorg from Butte City, Montana, an’ a friend o’ his’n ‘*Thank God! I am Clara Clincher and am a prisoner here. For God’s sake release me!” ‘‘You bet we will! Jest hold yer hosses for a few minutes, and we'll have you out iin great shape.” They soon found an ax, with which the fastenings of the door were demolished, and, a moment later, William Clincher and his sister Clara were clasped in each other’s sembrace, Clara was a comely looking little woman, ‘though her pallid features bespoke priva- ‘tion and suffering. **Oh! William,” she cried, ‘‘I am so glad—so glad. I thought you were dead!” “And that’s what we’ve been thinkin’ “gah you, Clara! Where’s yer babby—yer y oy?” ‘* Why, he has been dead quite a while,” ‘Then thet cuss, Moore, was tryin’. to palm off some other kid onter my old man, sayin’ thet the kid was yourn, and you were dead. Hedidn’t succeed, however. Where is Moore and the rest of the gang, now?” “‘T don’t know—maybe at old Zeb’s still. Oh! let’s hurry and get away from this awful place, where I have been a pris- oner so long! If old Zeb and the gang ‘should come back, and find you here, all would be lost.” ‘‘There’d be likely to be some blood lost, Tl agree to that!” the Bull-dog declared, grimly. ‘‘But, there’s another matter to ‘attend to before we leave heer D’ye know whether ,there is another prisoner about the premises—a detective?” ‘*Some one is confined in the cellar for I’ve heard him groan, but I don’t know who it is.” ‘* It’s the detective, I'll bet my boots!” the Bull-dog ejaculated. ‘* You stay here with Parsons, sis, an’ I'll go and investi- gate.” And, lighting another candle, he set about hunting the way to the cellar. He was not long in finding it—a trap door in the floor, behind the bar. Lifting this he clambered down a steep flight of stairs into the cellar, which was long, nar- row and deep, and was littered with bar- rels, boxes, and rubbish. The walls were for the most part solid rock, and this was of soft limestone formation. After a brief search, Clincher came to where a dungeon had been chipped out of the rock, and the entrance to this was guarded by a stout oken door, which was barred on the.outside, Removing the bars, the Bull-dog threw the door wide open, and flashed his light into the rock room. Then he sprung for- ward, with a cry of exultation, for there, lying upon a’bed of dry weeds and leaves, was indeed Deadwood Dick! He was pale and considerably emaciated, and his beard had grown a couple of inches long. He arose, me when he saw the Bull- dog, and extended his hand. ‘‘IT am glad you have come,” he said. ““T was just wondering if I were ever to get out of this den alive. Have you found your sister, yet?” ‘*Yes, and set her at liberty. been sick?” ‘“Yes. Icame near peggin’ out from ex- posure, and a wound I got. But, ’m get- tin’ stronger, now. So the bootblack came back to Cincinnati and told you, eh?” ‘* Yes, . He’s a brick!” ‘*You’reright; he is. Where's the gang?” ‘Give it up. Theshebang was locked up when wecame. Isuspect they’re at old Zeb’s still, Anyhow, the sooner we get away from here, the better.” “IT guess you are right. But, after I’m stronger I don’t mean to leave here ’til I’ve jugged every one of the gang, or laid ’em out!” They left the cellar, and went up-stairs, Dick making the ascent with difficulty. Here he was presented to Clara. “Sis, this is Deadwood Dick, the detec- tive, who hunted ye out, an’ nigh got the gizzard blowed out o’ him, a-tryin’ ter rescue you!” the Bull-dog announced. ‘‘He’s a Jim-dandy, you bet! andif it hadn’t been for him, you'd ’a’ never been found!” Just then, the bootblack was heard shout- ing from the bar-room. “Hyer they come, like a pack o’ howlin’ hyenas. We've been diskivered, and ther enemy aire goin’ to warm our jackets!” CHAPTER XVI. IN A TIGHT PLACE—PEPPER’S HEROISM. Tue startling cry of Peter Pepper caused the others to rush for the bar-room, in great haste. Peter had already closed and*bolted the strong wooden shutters, and barred the door on the inside with the heavy oaken bars, designed for that purpose. ‘‘Now, then, you go close t’other shut- ters, and bolt ’em good!” he ordered of Bob Parsons, with authority of one born to command, and Bob hastened to obey. Meanwhile, Dick and the Bull-dog were peering through loop-holes, several of which perforated the sides of the cabin. Coming across the glade were full twenty men, all brandishing torches and yelling and gesticulating like a pack of Comanches on the war-path. That they had discovered the presence of Have you their enemies in the mountain tavern, seemed more than probable. Dick turned to Pepper, and ‘said: ‘‘These fellers haven’t got rifles. Have you discovered any guns about the place?” Pepper nodded: ‘The closet yonder, is full of ’em,” he said, ‘‘an’ all of ’em aire loaded repeaters.” ‘* Fetch ’em out!” Dick ordered, ‘‘and don’t be slow about it. One shot may tem- porarily check the cusses, but ef we let ’em git near the cabin, they’ll make it warm for us.” Peter at once brought forth two loaded Winchester repeating rifles, and gave cne each to Dick and the Bull-dog, He then provided himself with one, and thus the whole party were equipped, Parsons having his own weapon. ‘‘Now, then,” Dick said, to Olincher, ‘when I say ‘Go!’ pick out your man, and drop him. It's our only chance for salya- tion.” Both men took aim through the loop-holes, and, at the signal, fired. Two of the leaders fell, when the party came to a halt and beld a few seconds’ con- sultation, and then picking up their com- rades, they retreated out of range of bullets, and held a protracted confab, evidently. ‘They are indulging in a council of war,” Dick decided. ‘‘ They feel rather doubtful. If you were tracked here from Rockwood, they may fear you’ve got more men with you than they'd care to tackle.” “They fear nothing, them chaps don’t,” declared Bob Parsons. ‘‘I know ’em of old, and they’re as fearless a lot as ever smelt powder. They’re figgerin’ to see how they can get at us with the least danger to themselves. We must keep watch of their every movement or we will get left, sure.” The consultation of the roughs, lasted for several minutes, and, although those in the house could not hear what was said, they knew by the excitement and cries of ven- geance, that hot work was coming. ‘‘IT wonder if Moore and Cap King are among the gang?” Dick asked. “If they are, I reckon they will take jolly good care to keep as far in the rear as pos- sible,” the Bull-dog replied. ‘‘ They both know that I’ve got in for ’em, and they don’t care to hear me howl!” It soon became evident that the gang ‘meant to approach the cabin in four sections, and on four sides, and begin the siege, simul- taneously, ‘We shall have to each one of us take a side,” Dick thereupon announced, ‘and fight for our lives. No mercy is to beshown us. Petey, do you think you can hold one end of the building?” ‘““Shouldn’t wonder ef [ could, boss. Leastwise, I kin try. Never hed much ex- perience shutin’ men, but I’ve shot a good bit in shutin’ galleries, so I understand how to pull trigger,” ; ‘*Good. You goto the south end 0’ the cabin, you, Bull-dorg to the rear, and Par- sons to the north. I'll look after the front. Don't let the cusses get nearer the cabin than you can help!” Then the detective took another peep through the loop-hole. ** Bad luck to us!” he muttered. ‘‘ What’s the matter?’”’ demanded Parsons. ‘“Why, the devils have got a reinforcement of ten men!” “ And are likely to have fifty more!” the ' Bull-dog added. “‘ Ah! why so?” ‘Cause there’s a little settlement, beyond that belt o’ timber, an’ the land an’ most o” ther houses are mortgaged to old Zeb King. So when he calls, the settlers are bound ter cum ter time, ye see.” “Tf you will give me a rifle,” Olara said. **T will help Peter defend the southera end. I know how to handle a rifle, better than you may suppose.” + jot “ok B f ® Past 1 a a aN nt i ied Pr. 2 A as ; - ; ~ i - +

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mt’ ww ? 3 «Very well ” Dick replied. > helps, in a case like this.” \ He then procured her the 100k it with the coolness of a veteran, and | and Deadwood Dick, and the latter had “advanced to join Peter Pepper. '/ others, in Deadwood Dick Jr. in Cincinnati, ** Every hand rifle, and she Every one was in place now, and ready for the fray, and the siege that promised to fol- + low. The men who would | fight the front, remained stationary. The either direction, entered the woods, which flanked the clearing, or glade. ‘‘Keep a sharp outlook,” Dick ordered, The gang separated. } ‘*and tell me when you see a sign from the ) woods.” The first call was from Clara. She came to him, and tapped him on the shoulder. “The moon is under‘a cloud,” she said. »‘‘Do you think Peter could reach your / horses?” “Why do you ask?” Dick asked. ‘* Because we may be2 able to resist for a while, but cannot hold out forever. Peter ‘wants to go. He says he can find the horses, * and will ride like the wind down to the _ Parsons farm, have him arouse all the neigh: boring country, and then make a flight to Fosterville, and bring back papa and those who are with him, and as many more as he can get. We can probably hold out as Jong as the ammunition lasts, and by that time help may come.” “But, in that case, the southern end of the cabin will be left unguarded!” “‘T’ll attend to that, better than Peter could!” Clara assured. “ I’ve passed through so much, since I was so unfortunate as to marry that scoundrel, Moore, that I absolute- ly fear nothing. My life and liberty are * now in the balance, and I want to fight for igi” “You are a brave woman!’ Dick declar- ed. ‘‘Iadmire you. Do you really think Pete means what he says?” ‘“‘He is eager to go: Heis fond of and is willing to risk his life for all o He was afraid to approach you, should refuse him. So I came.” — ‘* Send the lad here,” Dick ordered. Just then the report of a rifle reverberated through the building; it came from Peter’s ost. : P Dick and Clara both rushed into his room and found the gamin grinning with de- light. R “I've knocked over one chap!” he an- nounced, “‘an’s’prised myself. They begun to come out 0’ the woods, over yonder, an’ I took a header on the first chap, an’ he took a tumble, The rest o’ the blokes sneaked back under cover.” Dick took a look from the loop between the logs, but there was no movement on the border of the woodland. ‘*Are you sure you hit him?” Dick de- manded. “Tam.” ‘And, now, how about this proposition of yours?” " “T want to go, boss. I'll ride like blazes. I’ll take two horses, an’ if kill one, I'll have another, ‘You'll need help, an’ if you kin hold out ’ti] | kin get back, or send it, you’ll be all hunk, [f we don’t hev help we’re goners.” The idea was not an unreasonable one. «*But, Peter, do you consider what you are risking—your life!” Dick asked earnestly. ‘ “Oh! I’m willin’ to run the chances. I can reach the horses, I reckon, by crawlin’, an’ once I git thar, no fear but I’m away. If the horses are gone, I'll foot it, 1 likes you all, I do, an thar’s four to one to be ‘saved or go under. You men are able to take keer 0’ yourselves on a pinch, but this leddy must be rescued. I'd die to save her, ef Iam only a bootblack. She kissed me, awhile ago, When I sed I'd gofer help, ‘an’ that’s the only one as ever did that, as I kin rou, us. lest you remember. Mebbe my mammy did, but I ot \ *» % TG i ji ‘ BS i, J oe Sl tA wide“ AN 5 est Y x de Lo vag ao ke hex | don’t remember ever seein’ her. / | go!” oS Tears had sprung to the eyes of both Clara “You are a noble boy,” he said, huskily, ‘fand Vl see that you shall reap a rich. re- ward. You may go, and God be with you! I feei that you will pull through,and bring us aid. Surely, one of your undaunted cour- age, and honest, loving heart, can not fail!” ‘* My blessing be with you, Peter!” Clara ! said, kissing him upon the forehead. Just then the Bull-dog entered, *“No signs, on my side!’ he announced. ‘Hello! what in thunder is the diffickulty heer? Any one hurt?” ‘* The matter is,” Dick replied, ‘that this | noble boy has just knocked over one of our enemies, and is now risking his life to go and get us helpn—not for the sake of us men, but for your sister’s.” The Bull-dog stared at Pepper a few sec- onds, as if he could not believe the evidence of his senses; then, with one of those howls, so peculiar with him, and so hard to imitate, he sprung forward, grabbed Peter up in his arms as though he had been a chi!d, and gal- loped around the room like one insane. ‘*Whoop! bow-wow! Hyer’s a dorg fer ye, an’ he's of good breed, you kin bet yer bottom doller! Ef ever I’m ther daddy o’ a kid, his name shall be Pepper, fer Pepper is sharp!” Then, standing Peter once more upon his feet, he added, more gently: ‘Go et, boy! and ef ye succeed, an’ I'll bet my ha’r you wil, thar’ll be more Clincher dollars in yer paw than you'll know what ter do with. What ther old man don’t pay, Vl make up, an’ don’t ye ferget it!” ‘* Well, that will be all right,” Peter an- swered. ‘I want to get a move at once. Jest h’ist the back windy, an’ I’ll be off.” They adjourned to the kitchen; Peter shook hands with the party, and then, the shutters partly opened, the boy slipped out into the night. Refastening the window, the party returned to their various posts, Clara Moore takiag that vacated by young Pepper. CHAPTER XYII. TBE APPROACH OF DAWN, OccASIONALLY, Dick would seek his com- panions, to learn if they had seen any sign of their enemy but they had not, except the Bul!-dog, who vouchsafed the following: ‘‘They war over ther’, awhile ago,” in- dicating the timber, opposite his post of ob- servation, “but, after a while, they moved along the edge o’ the timber, reg'lar red-skin fashion, an’from the best o’ my jedgement, they went back to whar the main party fu’st appeared. So, I reckon ef an attack is made at all, it will be onthe front door. The ends an’ back o’ the shebang aire solid enuff, ‘cept the windies, an’ the shutters on them’! stand a pile o’ thumpin’, afore they’ll weaken. So I reckons we two had better keep an eye on the front, and run back now an’ then so as to make sure the rear is all O. K.” ““Maybe you are right; but we must take good care not to get surprised in the rear, even though the front may need more atten- tion. Hello!” For the second time that night a shot sounded from the room occupied by Clara— aringing rifle report, followed bya yell cf agony, outside the cabin, and evidently not far away. Clara was standing bravely-at Her post, showing no emotion, whatever, except a slight pallor in the cheeks, when Dick and the Bull-dog rushed into the room. ‘ Did you hit any one?” Dick demanded. ‘“Yes, and I’m afraid I’ve killed him. Oh! I should be so sorry if 1 have, for I would then be a murderess.” ‘‘Notat all. You were simply acting in self-defense, which is perfectly right and | caught Peter to his breast affectionately. | ’ / ! Yes, I’ll . justifiable. If those devils get in here, they will slaughter us all. But tell us about it.” ‘* Well, I kept a sharp outlook, and I’ve been shut up in darkness so much since I’ve been here, that I can see pretty well in it. I saw the undergrowth swaying, out yonder. It struck me as kind of strange, for, on glancing at a bush near the loop-hole, I saw that not a leaf stirred, ‘“‘T then knew that some one was créepirg> | toward the cabin, through the bushes and weeds. Presently a head popped up for an instant; my rifle was ready, and its report was followed by a yell!” ‘‘ Yes, an’ jest listen to that!” howled the: 3ull-dog. ‘*They’re down on us, sure!” It really seemed so, for just at this junc- ture, there was a chorus of unearthly yells, in front of the cabin! Dick and the Bull-dog both leaped back into the bar-room, and peered through the loop-holes. Full thirty desperate looking ruffians were swooping down toward the front door with drawn revolvers, and uttering discordant yells. They were not ten yards away! ‘Quick! let her go, Clineber! Herel Mrs. Moore—here Parsans! You’re wanted, to help defend the front!”’, Then the battle began, in dead earnest: Bang! bang! bang! Every second a jet of fire spouted from the loop-holes in the log walls, and a leaden messenger of death cut its way into the howl- ing mob, who returned the fire, but, of course, harmlessly, for no bullet penetrated through the logs, Still the ruffians came on, despite that deadly fire, and soon they were close up against the cabin walls, so that it was im- possible to get a shot at them, excent when one of them chanced to get in front of a loop-holie, when he was immediately picked: off. Full fifteen of the thirty had thus far suc+ cumbed to the Destroying Angels intrenched! within those walls. ‘Well, so far, we've not made so bad a showing,” Dick said, grimly, ‘‘and ef they give us a chance, we will make it still more interesting for them, you bet!” “They've ruther got us by the horns!” the Bull dog replied. ‘They're huggin’ the walls, close, like a pack o’ bloody Turks, an’ they’re up to some mischief, you bet!” Outside, the yeiling had ceased, and ut- most silence prevailed—a silence by no means a favorable symptom. The candle in the bar-roonmi had been ex- tinguished, so that none of the enemy could peer in through the loop-holes, and get a chance shot, and in the har-room was inky’ blackness. Dick had removed his boots, and occasion:- ally prowled around, from room to room, and listened by the windows, to make sure: that no attempt was being made, to pry open the shutters. But, all was quiet. Dick had expected that a peremptory de- mand would be made for admission to the: cabin, but none had been made. What scheme were they hatching up, in order to get into the cabin? That was the all-important question. ** Well, what d’yer make o' the silence?” the Bull-dog demanded. in a whisper. Ze ; am undecided what to think,” Dick re- plied. “Think they're hatchin’ up some plot: to surprise us?” ’ ** Maybe-—indeed, most probable.” ** What do you suppose it is?” *«T have no particular idea. I feel certain: of one thing, however. If they don’t spring a trap on us inside of an hour, it will be day- break, and by that time Peter may bring or send us help!” “‘By Jove! you’reright, Et mus’ be purty near mornin’.’ 1s

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—— - Se ae ee eT rey oy ea one a Deadwood Dick te 18 x 7 Cincinnati. \ The hour passed without any demonstra- tion from the roughs, and the first gray of dawn began to appear in the Hast. CHAPTER XYIII. CONCLUSION. Tus breaking of day was a great relief to | the party of hemmed-in friends. Broad daylight came and still there was no sound or visible movement of the enemy. What they could be doing, or why they were 80 silent, was a mystery. **)’m_ inclined to the opinion that they’ve reconsidered their hostile notion and sneaked off,” Bob Parsons said. “Don’t you believe it!” Dick replied. ** We shall hear from them before long!” And he was not mistaken, A few minutes later there came a thunder- ing knock on the door!” ** Hello, in thar!” cried a voice, “Hello! yourself!” returned Dick. ‘‘ What do you want?” ‘IT want to come in. Open ther door!” ‘**Can’t accommodate you, for it’s locked on the outside!” “‘Noetain’t. I’ve removed the lock.” ** You have. Who the blazes are you ?” “Zeb King, what owns this place!” **Get out. You're chafling me.” “‘T’ll cussed quick show ye ef I am or not, ef ye don’t open that door! Open up, I say, or we'll break the door down, an’ murder every one of ye!” ‘* Break away, Zebediah!” Dick coolly re- torted. ‘‘ Breakaway! Don't wait; but, re- member there’s enough of us to clean out your whole gang, and the first galoot that shoves his nose in here is a dead man.” There was no verbal reply, but the next instant there came a tremendous crash upon the door, that made it shake. Fortunately, it was built of one piece of solid oak, mounted upon heavy hinges, and, ‘protected on the inside by heavy iron and oaken bars, two of each kind. ‘** The door won’t stand that racket long!” the Bull-dog said, dubiously. ‘*I’m afraid not!’ Dick assented. ‘*The only thing we can do,1s to stand ready to sell our lives dearly, when the door does go in, for it is impossible to get a shot at the devils, from any of the loop-holes.” ‘**Yes, you bet we'll sell em dearly!” the Bull-dog gritted. Again, a terrific crash, that caused, the door to stagger, and give, perceptibly. Bristol, Parsons and the Bull-dog, placed their rifles within reach, and then drew their revolvers. A crisis was at hand. Clara, who had all along borne herself with heroic courage, now raised her voice: “Glory! glory!” sie cried—she had been peering from one of the loops—‘‘ we are saved! Here comes help! A band of horse- men, and Peter Pepper, and another man is in the lead, and— and—oh! oh! oh! It’s my father!” Dick and the Bull-dog took a hasty glauce through the Igg rifts, and found that Clara had spoken the truth. ; A party consisting of old Clincher, Peter Pepper, the ‘‘ Bully Boys” of the Man from Butte, and a dozen more horsemen, were bearing down upon the cabin, like a whirl- wind, firing as they came. The roughs who had been attacking the cabin-door with a battering-ram, uttered yells af terror, and fled in great consternation. Old Zeb King, Cap King. and Ezra Moore, were among those who fell, never, to rise, until the day of Resurrection. destroyed. words t ad he Beis 417 Tucson Tom; or, The Fire Trailers, It is unnecessary to add that the reunion was a most happy one all around. The party soon set out for Planter Parsons’s, where Dick, Pete, the Clinchers, and the ‘*Bully Boys” were hospitably entertained | for a couple of days, until they were thor- oughly rested. Then, they returned to | Fosterville, and set out for Cincinnati. In duedime they arrived at the home of , the Clinchers, and here they had a grand | spread in honor of the happy end of the Clincher Campaign. / Dick remained for several days, a guest of | the Clinchers, and during that time received a most munificent reward for his services. As for Peter Pepper, he, too, was rewarded in a handsome manner, but in addition, Jabez Clincher has adopted him, and as a | preliminary to making a hog merchant of | him, will give him a thorough education; while the Bull-dog fur his own satisfaction proposes to work out the pedigree of the now happy Peter, Just before Dick was about to bid farewell to the Clinchers, old Jabez receeived a com- | munication from an old friend in St. Louis, which changed Dick’s plans considerably. It ran as follows: Sr. Lovuts, Nov, 20. “ Dear CLINCHER:— “ Ye writ me ye had engaged a smart detective, to look up yer darter. If so be he’s bin successful, an’ is at liberty, send him over here, f>r I’m in nesd 0’ the services of a detective, smart enough to show the Police boobies how to do b ‘* Your old friend. ‘“Smron Snr.” So bidding adieu to his Cincinnati friends, Dick set out at once for St. Louis. THE END, Beadle’s Dime Library. BY COL. THOMAS H. MONSTERY. 82 fron Wrist, the Swordmaster. 126 The Demon Duelist; or, The League of Steel. 143 The Czar’s Spy; or, The Nihilist League. 150 41 Rubio Bravo. King of the Swordsmen. 157 Mourad, the Mameluke;\or, The Three Sword- masters. 169 Corporal Cannon, the Man of Forty Duels 236 Champion Sam; or, The Monarchsof the Show 262 Fighting Tom. the Terror of the Touchs. 832 Spring-Heel Jack; or, The Masked Mystery. BY DR. J. H. ROBINSON, 13 Pathaway; or, Nick Whiffles. the old Nor’west Trapper, 17 Nightshade; or, The Robber Prince. 22 Whitelaw; or, Nattie of the Lake Shore. 37 gs hn Hunchback; or, The Santee Sword- maker. 58 Silver Knife; or. The Rocky Mountain Ranger. 70 Hydrabad, the Strangler. 73 The Knights of the Red Cross; or, The Granada Marician, 163 Len Brion; or, Redpath, the Avenger. BY MAJOR DANGERFIELD BURR, 92 Buffalo Bill, the Buckskin Kinz. 117 Dashing Dandy; or, The Ho s;.ur cf the Hills, 142 Captain Crimson, the Man of tue Iron Face. 156 V°'vet Face, the Border Bravo, i175 Wild Bill’s Trump Card; or, The Indian Heiress. 18 The Phantom Mazeppa; or, The Hyena. 448 Hark Kenton, the Traitor. Mi BY MAJOR DANIEL BOONE DUMONT. 883 Silver 8am, the Detective. 889 Colonel Double-Edge, the Cattle Baron’s Pard, 411 The White Crook; or, Old Hark’s Fortress, 420 The Old River Sport; or, A Man of Honor. 439 Salamander Sam. 454 The Night Raider, 464 Sandyeraw, tne Man of Grit. 508 Topnotch Tom, the Mad Parson. BY COLONEL DELLE SARA, 53 Silver'Sam; or, The Mystery of De:dwood City. 87 The Scarlet Captain; cr, Prisoner of the Tower. 106 Shamus O’Brien, the Bould Boy of Glingal. BY GEORGE ST, GEORGE. 296 Duncan, the Sea Diver. EROY B, ST. JOHN. a a mise ye! i) 192 The Lig BY EDWARD WILLETT. 129 Mississippi Mose; or, a Strong Man's Sacrifice. zt 209 Buck Farley, the Bonanza Prince. - as 3 222 Bill the Blizzard; or, Red Jack’s Crime. aoe: Ee 2483 Montana Nat, the Lion of Last Chance Camp, ‘ass 274 Flush Fred, the Mississippi Sport. wf | 289 Flush Fred’s Full Hand. 0 ay 208 Logger Lem; or, Life in the Pine Woods. : - 808 Hemlock Hank, Tough and True. | 815 Flush Fred’s Double; or, The Squatters’ Leagua, Pf 827 Terrapin Dick, the Wildwood Detective, 487 Old Gabe, the Mountain Tramp. 348 Dan Dillon, King of Crossecut. ; road 3468 The Canyon King: or. a Price on his Head, > Ne | 483 Flush Fred, the River Sharp. BY NED BUNTLINE. ae 14 Thayendanegea,the Scourge; or, The War-Eagle, 16 The White Wizard; or, The Seminole Prophet. 18 The Sea Bandit; or, The Queen of the Isle. 23 The Red Warrior; or, The Comanche Lover. 61 Captain Seawaif, the Privat-er. 111 The Smuggier Captain; or, The Skipper’s Crime. 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot Spy. 9 Hie pacros, ihe Horan or, The Firate’s Daughter, 617 Buffalo Bill's Siet i BY WILLIAM R. EYSTER, 145 Pistol Pards; or, The Silent.Sport from Cinnabar, Ho a aga Sharp; = che oe so the Sana, 82 Hands Up; or, The Knights of the Canyon. binlng Sport. F 214 The Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Gulch, 229 Captain Cutsleeve; or. The Little sport. 268 Magic Mike, the Man of Frills. 300 a port in Spectacles; or, The Bad Time at Ry unco. 7 833 Derringer Dick, the Man with the Drop. 844 Double Shot Dave of the Left Hand. 856 Three Handsome Sports; or, The Double Com c bination. ne 875 Royal George, the Three in One, = 896 The Piper Detective. 402 Snapshot Sam: or, The Angels’ Flat Racket. 429 Hair Trigger Tom of Red Bend. i 459 Major Sunvhine, the Man of Three Li Tig 4% Pmnacle Pete; or, The Fool from Way Back. i The Dude from Denver. i 25 Fresh Frank, the Derringer Daisy. 533 Oregon, the Sport Witha Scar. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. * 8 te Headless Horseman; A Strange Story of exas. 12 The Death-Shot: or, Tracked to Death. 55-The Scalp Hunters’ A Romance of the Plains. 66 The Sp:cter Barque. A Tale of the Pacific. 74 he Captain of the Rifles; or, The Queeéa of the a : akes. ( a 200 ae Rifle Rangers; or, Adventures in Mexico. io al 208 The White Chief. A Romance of Northern Mex- a. ico. 213 The War Trail; or, The Hunc of the Wild Horse, 213 The Wild Huntress; or, The Squatter’s Ven- geance 228 The Maroon. A Tale of Voodoo and Obeah, Wy 234 The Hunter’s Feast. : oa 267 The White Squaw. ‘ ‘ MISCELLANEOUS, eres; a 6 Wildcat Bob, By Edward L. Wheeler. ; oe 9 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. { 10 Vidocq, the French Police Spy. By himsel. ie 11 Midshipman Easy. 4 Captain Marryatt. ye NG 32 B’hoys of Yale: or, The Scrapes of Collegians, By John D. Vose. 60 Wide Awake, the Robber King. By F. Dumont. = 68 The Fighting Trapper. By Capt. J. F. ©. Adams, _ 76 ‘The Queen’s Musketeers. By George Albany, | ney %8 The Mysterious Spy. By Arthur M. Grainger, a | 102 The Masked Bard. By George L. Aiken. , 110 The Silent Rifleman, By H. W. Herbert. poe 125 The Blacksmith Outlaw. By H. Ainsworth, ~~, 133 na i Rover. Py William Carletcn, 7 140 The Three Spaniards. By Geo. Walker. __ , 144 The Hunchback of Notre Dame. By Vietor Hugo, 1.6 The Doctor Detective. By George Lemuel. - 152 Captain Ironnerve, the Counrterfeiter Chief, 158 The Doomed Dozen. By Dr. Frank Powell, so, ara 185 Owlet, the Robber Prince. By SR. Urban, bite 179 Conrad, the Convict. By Prof.,Gildersleeve, iid 190 Tne Three Guardsmen, By, Alexander Dumas, 261 Black Sam, t'e Prairie Thunderbolt, By Col. : ; Jo Yards. \ 275 The Smuggler Cutter. By J. D. Courey, a 312 Kinkfoot Karl, the Mountain *courge. By Mor- ris Redwing. ; igus 830 Cop Colt,the Quaker City Detective. By OC, Morris. 850 Flesh Falcon, the Society Detective, ‘By Welcon b - Cobb. rab. 353 Bart Brennan; or. The King of Straight Flush, By John Cuthbert. : i 366 oe Telegreph Detective, By George Henry : orse, py. 4) 4 os 410 Sarah Brown, Detective, By K. F. Hill. 500 The True-Heart Pards, By Dr. Noel Dunbar _ i 518 Royal Richard, the Thoroughbred. By J. W. sbon. , 528 Huckl«berry, the Foot-Hills Detective. B Lieut A. K. Sims. ; ie : ee ee! Green Mountain Joe; or, The Counterfeiter By Marmaduke Dey. si . ‘ Cave. apberk A nev tssue erery Wednesday, ; ; pm ir) is for s by a

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J 1 = i S oe R 3 2 = = : 494 Surly Sim, the Young Ferryman Detective, 614 Whistling Jacob, the Detective’ 628 Buck Bumblebee, the Harlem Hit ser Express-Train Ferret, — 689 Sunrise Saul, the he Bo 658 Sky-Rocket Rob, the Life-Saver, @88 Saltpeter Sol, the New York Navigator, 694 Spiey Sim, the Only One of His Kind. 706 Tom Thistle, the Road-House Detective, @1TZ Mosquito Jack, the Hustler Gamin. 726 Dennis Duff, the Brown Sport’s Kid. _ BY J. W. OSBON, 469 The Rival et har’. $85 Cactus Hurr, reso a, Hard Luck. T Old Huckeye, tha Sierra Shadow. 4. powers » the Boy Miner. ol rrit, the Veteran Detective. f BEADLE'’S« H ALF- DIME*[_IBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Conyplete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes ofa Bowery Girl. 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. 7% Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. 288 Joe Buck of Angels and His Boy Pard. 447 New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and Traps in Gotham, 458 New England Nick; or, The Fortunes of a Foundling, 464 Nimble Nick, the Circts Prince. 498 Taos Ted, toe Arizona Sport. 510 Cool Colorado, the Hal!-Breed Detective. 518 Cool Colorado in New York. BY GEORGE WALDO BROWNE. 86 Dandy Rock the Man from Texas. 90 The Drend Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. 99 The Tiger of Tuos; er, 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 Reck’s Pledge; or, Hunted to Death. 178 Dandy Rock’s Rivals: or, The Haunted Maid of Taos. BY GEORGE ©, JENKS. 455 Git Thar Owney the Unknown, 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. 518 phe Demon Doctor. Jouble-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective, 5YS Flute, the Singer Detectivey 608 The Pitcher Detective’s Fotl; or, Dan’s Double Play. 616 The Ocean Detectives or. The Last Cruise of the Black Bear. 681 The Pitcher Detective’s Toughest Tussel. BY J, C. COWDRIOK, 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. B69 Shasta, the Gold King; or, For Seven Years Dead, The Detective’s Apprentice ; or, A Boy Without a Name. Cibuta Jonny; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar. 9 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. Redlight ms the Prince of the Road. Broa way Killy’s Boodle. The Engineer Detective. Broadway Blilly’s ‘ Dittikilty.” Mart, the Night Express Detective. Broadway Billy’s Peath Racket. Alr-Line Luke the Young Engineer. The Chimney Spy; or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party. The Boy Pinkerton. 5 William © Broadway} or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning, Fighting Harry the Chief of Chained Cyclone. Broadway Billy’«s Dead Act, Barebsrek Beth, the Centaur of the Circle, Typewriter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward. Moonlight Morgan, the * Pizenest ’’ Man of Ante Bas. Broadway Billy Abroad. 5b Broadway Billy’s Best; or, Beating San Francisco's Finest. Broadway Billy tn Clover. } Broadway Billy in. Texas, Broadway Billy’s Brand. Broadway Billy at Santa Fe. Broadway Billy’s Full Hand, BY FREDERICK DEWEY 818 Cimarron Jack, the King-Pin of Rifle-Shote. ATS Tangemund, the Desert Detective. 542 The C- yon Parda. BY ARTHUR ©, GRISSOM. 440 Little Foxfoot, the Gold Bowie Kid. 558 The Sure-Shot Pards, 621 Truthful James, the “ Pecooliar” Man. BY MAJOR E. L. 8ST. VRAIN, 292 Sancho Pedros the Boy Bandit. 801 Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince. 888 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quartette, 852 Tombstone Tom, the Arizona Boy of “Sand.” 859 Durango Dave, the Young Chainnion Wrestler, 871 Kingbolt Chris, the Y»ung Hard-Shell Detective. B80 Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountain Mail-Line, BY EDWARD 8, ELLIS&, 6 Bill Bidden, Rveppers 8 Seth Jones; or, The Captives of the Frontier, 10 Nat Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. 21 'rne Frontier Angel. 98 The Boy Miners; or, The Enchanted Island, 182 The Hunted Hunter; or, The Strange Horseman. 254 The Half-Blood; or; The Panther of the Plains. 271 The Huge Uunter; or, The Steam Prairie Man, RnR” MAJOR LEWIS W. CARSON, 278 The T ree Trappers; or. The Mountain Mon 288 Indian Joe; or, Ws White Spirit of the Hills. iat: BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, are eee —— 7 The Red Lasso. zzard Ben}; or, The Riot at K Cc ° 286 Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot. raiser BY BRACEBRIDGE NEMYNG. of ipane tt ye iy Pet of the Family. ‘he Captain of the Club; or. The Rival * 101 Jack Harkaway in New Veer. a ces BY MAJOR MENRY B. STODDARD, Ex-Scout. 806 Neck-Tie Ned; or, The Dug-Ont Pards. 846 Rapier Raphael; or, The Swordsmen of Zacatecas, 891 Kid-Glove Kit, the Dandy of the Rockies. +4 Ree eaene it a Parad: ats The Gold King. e Mad Man-Hunter: or, The Geiden Gul 505 Powell’s Pard; or, The One-Armed Giant. en es BY CAPTAIN FRED. WITITTAKER. 15 The Sea-Cat; or, The Witch of Darien. 29 The Dumb Fage or, The Doge’s Deughter, 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. 150 Lance and Lasso; or, The Children of the Chaco. 154 The Sword Hunters; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders, 159 The Lost Captain; or, Skipper Jabez Coffin’s Cruise, 200 The Boy Bedoulins 3; or, The Brothers of the Plumed lance, 214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. 249 Milo Romer the Animal King; or, Round the World, 265 The Tiger Tamer} or, The League of the Jungle. 881 Black N ck, the Demon Rider. 895 California Joe’s War Trail. BY COL, A. F. HOLT. 899 Black Buckskin: or, The Masked Men of Death Canyon, 419 Kenneth, the Knife-Kine. Bes Littie Lightfoot, the Pilot of the Woods. (5) Dandy sport; or. The King Pin Conspirator. 91 Mea . $s e Might Harry's Hani. ~ The Ralph Renwood. the Lightning Express Detective. °° ht Harry’s Siren. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Yellowstone Jack; or, The axappere 48 Black John, the Road-Agent, or, The Outlaw’s Retreat 65 Hurricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard 119 Mustang Sam ; or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-linwk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch, 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 160 The Black Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. 168 Deadly Dagh; 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 W olf; 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 Daniel Boone’s Last Trail, 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective 625 Chincapiv Dan, the Boy Trailer. 677 Chineapin Dan's Second Trail. 688 Chincapin Dan's Home Stretch. 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. TOS Light-Neart Lute’s Legacy. 718 Licht-Heart Lute’*« Last Trail. 728 Ailverblade, the Shoshone, BY W. J. HAMILTON, 68 The Red Brotherhood or, The Twelve Avengers. 66 Single Hand; or, A Life fora Life, 72 Mad Tom Western, 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 Tralier; or, A Vow Well Kept, 192 Captain Kit; or, The Mystery of Montauk Point. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 8 Blue Dick; or, The Yellow Chief's Vengeance. 87 The Land Pirates: or, The League of Devil's Island, 87 The Helpless Hiand 3 or, Backwoods Retribution. 289 The Gold-seeker Guide? or, The Lost Mountain. BY WILLIA’ R. EYSTER. 190 Dandy Darke; or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 Faro Frank; or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pards BY C. DUNNING CLARE. 185 Captain Paul; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains. 280 The Yankee Rajah; or, The Fate of the Black Shereef. BY CAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR U. 8. A. 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Buffalo Bill's Bet; or, The Gambler Guide. BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS. 546 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock. 568 The Dandy of Dodge. 576 The Silver Sport. 5S8 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow 5S9 Tom-Cat and Pard; or, The Dead Set at Silver City. 601 Happy Hana, the Dutch Vidoeg. 611 Bildnd Barnacle, the Detective Hercules. 622 Texas Tom-Cat’s Triad 681 Tom Cat’s Terrible Task. 688 Tom-Cat’s Triumph; or. Bleck Dan’s Great Combine. 646 Cowboy Gid, the Cattle-Range wetective. 657 Warbling William, the Mountaln Mountebank. 665 Jolly Jeremlahs the Plains Detective, 676 Signal Sam, the Lookout Scout. 689 Billy the Gypsy Spy. 699 Simple Sim, the Broncho Buster. 712 The Mesmerist Sport; or, The Mystified Detective. MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORS, 4 The Wild-Ilorse Munters. By Capt. Mayne Reta 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 lilustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. 22 The Sen Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. By Juan Lewis, 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribees. By S, W. Pierce. 86 The Boy Clown: or, The Arena Queen. By F 8. Finn. BS Ned Wylie, the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. 61 The Boy Fifties; or, The Underground Canip. By A. C. Irons. 95 The Rival Rovers; or, The Freebooters of the Mississippi. By Lieut.-Col, Hazeltine. 98 Robin Wood, 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, !heCave 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 Puaky Darrell, Sespper: or, The Green Ranger of the Yel- lowstone. By Edward Emerson. 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 ot the Cliff. By Captain Comstock. 817 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Lien- tenant Alfred Thorne. 828 The Sky Detective; or, A Boy’s Fight for Lifeand Honor By Maior Mickey Free. 850 Red Ralph, the River Rovers or, The Brother’s Re- venge. By Ned Buntline. 865 Baltimore Ren the Bootblack Detective. By A. P. Morris. 874 Gold-Puat Tom: or, Ben’s Double Match. By G H. Morse, 876 Callfornia Joe’s First Trail. By Colonel Thomas Hover Monstery. 418 Billy Bombshell, the Cliff Climber. By F. S. Winthrop, 475 The Black mg By John S Warner. Comanche Pick and His Three Invinelbles. By use Beary, J. Thomas. e Cowboy Duke. Edwin Brooke Forrest. B52 Artel the Athlete. By Dovid Druid. 585 Will Waters, the Bov Ferret. By H. Enton. 682 The Dead “etective’s Double. By Gerald Carlton, 721 Maverick Mose, the Arizona Detective; or, The Wizard or rkos Pass. By Will Lisenbee, A New issue Every Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library 1's for sale by ail newsd dentaper copys o7 coat Wir eoll ca seseind af tx eta cache am BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New Work.

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BEADLE’S« H ALF- DIME*[_IBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniforta Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers, BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels. Dick, the Prince of the Road. Dick’s Defiance: or, Double Daggers. Dick In Disguise; or, Buifaty Ben Dick in His Castle. Dick’s Bonanzaj or, The ..antom Miner. Dick in Danger; or, Omeha Oll. Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. Dick on Deck; or. Calantity ¢ :ne, the Heroine. Dick’s Last Acti or, Corduroy Charlie. Dick in Leadville. Dick’a Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. Dick as Detective. Dick’s« Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost. Dick’s Home Base; or, Blonde Bill. Dick’s Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. Dick of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party. Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivals of the Road. Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Adventure, a pce ede) meal. ck’s Death-Plant. Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Toughs, mene w sod te pa Me vt or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. end woo ck’s Death Trail. Deadwood Dick’« Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats Deadwood Dick’s Ducata; or, Days in the Diggings. 851 oeaweee os Seek cp rea or, lhe Terrible Vendetta, eadwoo¢ ek’s Claim, Deadwood Dick in Dead City. Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds, Deadwood Dick in New Yorks or, A “Cute Case,” peserved ee 3 or, The Chained Hand. end wood ek, Jr. Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Deadwood Dick, 5 Deadwood 1 Deadwood Deadwood 481 Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood > Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood 7 Deadwood Deadwood Dendwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Defiance. Full Hand. Big Round-Up. Racket at Claim 10, Corral; or, Bozeman Bill: Dick, Jr.’s, Dog PRetective. dr., in Deadwood, Dick, Jr.’«, Compact. Dick, Jr.’s, Inheritance, Dick, Jr’, Diggings. Dick, Jr.’s, Deliverance, oe eee Teele ek, Jr.’«, Three. Dick, dr.’a, Danger Ducka. Dick, Jr.’s, Death Hunt. Dick, Jr., in Texas. pick, ou? the Wild ae Vidoog ek, Jr., on iis Mettle. Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Gotham, Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Boston. peaewens Bien ore 7 Sr posh Jeadwoo ck, Jr., in Chicago. Deadwood Dick, Jr., Afloat. Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Decree. Deadwood re 5 in Beelzebub’s Basin. Penteeed Dick, a¥cn Leaarilic tas, Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Detroit. pesawoed, Wiel te incinaees- end woo ek, Jr., in Nevada. Deadwood Dick, Jr., In No Man’« Land, Deadwood Dick, Jr., After the Queer. Deadwood Dick. Jr., in Buffalo. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Chase Across the Continent 654 Deadwood Dick, Jr, Among the Smugglers. Deadwood Dick? Sry Back in the Min endwoo ck, dJr., Back in the Mines, Deadwood Dick, Jr., (n Durango; or, * Gathered In.” poaawese wick Sig pap a or, Found a Fortune. end woo: ek, Jr.’s. Dazzle. Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s. Dollars, & Deadwood Dick, Jr.; at Danger Divide. 700 Dendwood Dick, Jr.’s, Drop. 704 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Jack-Pot. 710 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in San Francisco. 716 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«, Still Hunt. 722 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dominoes, 728 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Disguise, RY CHARLES MORRIS. 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective. 122 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Pete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective, 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 152 Black Beas, Will Wildfire’s Racer. 57 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. 2 aut yeasts in pha pete. 1 aggage, the Railroad Boy. A Ponmn ry or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses, Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. the Bank Runner, The Hidden and} or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge, Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers, 9 Bob Rockett}; or, Driven to the Wall. 196 Shadowed ; or, Bob Kockett’s Fight for Life. 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. 220 Tom Tanner; or, The Biack Sheep of the Flock, 225 Sam Charcoa the Premium Darky. 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. 252 Dick Dashaway? or, A Dakota Boy in Chieago. 262 The Young Sharps: or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail, 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’« Job; or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughored, 805 Dashaway, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in Quaker City. 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. B58 The Reporter-Detective ; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard, B67 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. 879 Larry, the Leveler; or, The Bloods of the Boulevard. 408 Firetty Jack, the River-Rat Detective. 428 The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier. 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invinetble Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick; the Jolly Vagavond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. 479 Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Boots, the Boy Fireman: or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, 686 The Secret Service Boy Detective. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. 627 Tom Bruce of Arkansas; or, The Wolf in the Fold. 655 Plucky Paul, the Boy Speculator. 667 Bob and Sam, the Daisy Detectives. 709 The Curbstone Detective; or, Harry Hale’s Big Beat, “7 ak bk pk pk fk pk ek pk RACkOR 6 6 z z z 8 s 8 Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 26 Cloven Woof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woolf’; or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Lite in New York. 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 58 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Ritle Team. 69 Gold Rifles the Sharpshooter; or, The Boy Detective, 80 Rosebud Robs or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner ; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance. 92 Canada Chet ; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp, 96 Watch-Eye; or, Arabs and Angels of a Great City. 8 Jack Moyle the Young Speculator. Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. Bonanza Bill, Miner. Bossa Bob the King of Boothlacks. Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. > Captain Ferret, the New York Detective. New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scamps, Wild Frank, the Buckskin Brayo. > Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. & Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter, 226 Snoozer, the Boy Sharp; or, The Arab Detective, 286 Apollo Bll, the Trail Ternado. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator. 244 Sierra Sam, the Frontier Ferret. Sierra Sam’s Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, Sterra Sam’s Pardy; or, The Angel of Big Vista, Sierra Sam’s Seven} or, The Stolen Bride. Jumbo Joey the Boy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, er Doll, the Detective Queen. nver Doll's Victory. rver Doll’s Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, Turk the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll's Drift; or. The Road Queen. 299 A ‘Jo. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 808 ’Liza Jane, the Girl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport. $25 Kelley, Wickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia. B80 Little Quick-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville, 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner, 889 Kangaroo Kit’ Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood, 858 First-Class Fred, the Gent from Gopher. 868 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherers or, The Life Lottery. 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. 878 Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City. 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, B85 Yreka Jim’s Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nose, 889 Bieyele Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Hat Harry, the Base Bull Detective, 426 Sam Slabsaides, the Beggar-Boy Detective. 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives, 488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. 456 Sealskin Sam, the Sparkler. So he 0S et 2s orm Co Se conn — at ROS et ta et ie pret ek ed pt BY T. ©. HARBAUGH, 28 Nick o’ the Nights or, The Boy Spy of ’76. 87 The Hidden Lodge}; or The Little Hunter. 47 Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Captains, 64 Dandy Jack; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trai), 82 Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack ; or, The Boy Trapper. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch Jr.i or, The Boy Vigilante. 6S Gold Trigger, the Sports er, The Girl Avenger. 69 Tornado Tom; or, Injun Jack From Red Core, 88 Ned Temple, the Border Boy, 98 Arkansaw ¢ or, The Queen of Fate’s Revenge. 07 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot’s Crusade, 281 Plucky Phil; or, Rosa, the Rei Jezebel. 2A1 Bill Bravo; or, Tie Roughs of the Rockies, 255 Captain Apoliv, the King-Pin of Bowie, 267 The Buckskin Detective. 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes, 294 9 a pt Dan3; or, The Bowle Blade of Gochetopa. 802 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bully, 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona, 826 The Ten Parda; or, The Terror of Take-Notice, 886 Bie Benson; or, The Queen of the Lasso, 845 Pitileas Matt; or, Red Thunderbolt’s Secret. 856 Cool Sam and Pardy; or The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlass; or, The Brecaneer’s Girl Foe. 896 Rough Rob; or, The Twin Champions of Blue Blazes, 411 The Silken Lasso: 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 Kenc Bar, 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. A777 The Exceisior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night ferret. 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. 5621 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge. 528 Fox and Faicon, the Bowery Shadows, 588 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 548 Dodger Dick’s Double: or, The Rival Boy Detectives. 558 Dodeer Dick’s Desperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidoeq, 578 The Two Shadows. 582 Dodger Dick’s Drop. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sherp on Guard, 626 The Champion Parda. 687 Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. 645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp. 658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beagle. 671 Jersey Jed, the Bov Hustler; or, Shadowing the Shadower. 685 Happy Hugh, the Boy Musician Detective. 701 Photograph Fred, the Camera Sharp. 715 Wide Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret. 1 1 1 1 2 BY WM. G. PATTEN. 489 The Diamond Sport; or, The Double Face of Bed Rock, 519 Gaptata Mystery ; or, Five in One, S81 Da 5 Mare the Sport from Denver. 587 Old Bombshell, the Ranger Detective. 604 Iron Fern, the Man of Fire. 619 The Boy Tramp Detective: or, The Double Grip Witness 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Sport. 641 Dismal Pave’s Dandy Pard. 651 Bound Boy Frank, the Young Amateur Detective 66% Violet Vane’s Victory. 682 Wild Vulcan, the Lone-Range Rider, 692 Violet and Daisy, the Posy Pards. 705 Violet Vane’s Vows; or, The Crafty Detective’s Craft, 714 Old Misery, the Man from Missouri. 724 Violet Vane’s Vengeance. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, ®? The Flytng Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast. 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccaneer; or, The Fugitive Yacht, 24 Diamond Dirk; or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone, 62 The Shadow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenants, 75 The Boy Dnellat; or, The Cruise of the Sea- Wolf. Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Smuggier. The Sea-Devil; or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. The Hussar Captain ¢ or, The Hermit of Hell Gate, 97 Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. 4 Gold Plume; or, Buffilo Bill, the Pony Express Rider. * §} Bison BIL, the Prince of the Reins; or, Ramo Bill’s Pluck. Grit, the Bravo Sport 3 or, The Woman Trailer, Crimson Kate; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph, Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. Merle, the Middy ; or, The Freelance Heir. The Midshipman Mutineer; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer. The Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure, The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. Merle Monte’s Cruise; or, “ The Gold Ship ” Chase, Merle Monte’s Fate; or, Pear!, the Pirate’s Bride, 4 The Sean Marauder; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. 804 The Dead Shot Dandy 5 or, Benito, the Boy Bugler, 808 Keno Kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double 814 The Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Trai), 877 Bonodel, the Bey Rover} or, The Flagless Schooner, 888 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island, 88ST Warpath WIL, the Boy Phantom. by 5 pl phe Boy Lieutenant. ae sodor, the Young Conspirator$ or, The Fatal League. 407 The Boy Tonereeeht on the Cuban Vendetta. sing 412 The Wild Yachtaman; or, The War-Cloud’s Cruise, Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, The Corsair. The Sea Raider. The Ocean Firefly ; or, A Middy’s Vengeance, Haphazard Harry; or, Tne Scapegrace of the Sea, 450 Wizard Will: or, Tie Boy Ferret of New York. 454 Wizard Wills Street Scouts. . 462 The Born Guide}; or, The Sailor Boy Wanderer. 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster. A474 Flora; or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferrets Afloat: or, Wizard Will’s Last Case. Nevada Ned, the Revolyer Ranger, 495 Arizona Joe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack, 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy: or, The Shark and the Sea Cat, 507 The Hunted Midshipman. 511 The Outlawed Middy. 520 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. 525 Brothers in Buckskin. 580 The Buckskin Bowers. 585 The Bue’. skin Rovers. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder of the Rio, 545 Licutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Lafitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Son. 555 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower, 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. 570 Camille, 4 Card Queen. 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. 580 The Outcast Cadet; or, The False Detective, 586 The Buckskin Avenger. 591 Delmonte, the Young Sea-Rover. 597 The Young Texan Detective. 602 The Vagabond of the Mines. 607 The Rover Detectives or, Keno Kit’s Champfons. 617 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scouts or, The Rio Raiders, 644 The Hercules Highwayman. 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Rider Detective; or, Buffale. 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 Freebooter’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 Bill; or, The Red Hat Rangers’ Red Hot Racket 707 The Red Sombrero Rangers; or, Redfern’s Last Trail. 718 Carl, the Mad Cowboy; or, The Lariat Queen, 719 Pawnee Bill's Pledge; or, The Cowboy Kidnapper. %25 Daring Dick, Pawnee Bill’s Pard; or, The Red Cavalry Raid, BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm. F. Cody). 8 Kansas King; or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy or, The Pilot of the Prairie. 6S Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout. 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado; or, The Trepper’s Trust. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 729 Silverblade, the Half-Blood; or, The Border Beagle at Bay. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 780 Violet Vane’s Verdlet; or, The Crooked Game at Cofia City. By Wm. G. Patten. 781 Ruth Redmond, the Girl Shadower;. or, The Rivala tn Buckskin. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. ‘ 782 Daisy Dell, the Pavement Detectives oT, Trapping Big Game, = By T. C, Harbaugh. 288 Toltec Tom, the Mad Prospector; or, Unearthing the Caverm League, by Lieut. A. K. Sims. 284 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’ Double Deal: or, The All. Around Surprise. By Edward L. Wheeler. 785 Broadway Billy’¢ Business; or, Waking Up Wind Can- yon Camp. By J.C. Cowdrick, 286 Larry, the Thoroughbred; or, Beaten on Every Side. By George C. Jenke. 287 Buck Taylor, the Comanche’s Captive; ot, Buckskin Sam to the Resene. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 788 Broadway Rilly’« Curious Case; ot, The Mysterious Disappearance at Manitou Springs. By J.C. Cowdrick. 789 Silverblade, the Hostile, or, The Border Beagle’a Ghost Trail. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. Ready September 22. 740 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Deathwatch; or, The Moving Mystery at Mexican Mustang. By Edward L, Wheeler. Ready September 29. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half- Dime Library 1s for sale by all newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New Yorks ¥