Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 678) (1890 07 22)
The text was read from the page scans by machine (OCR), so it has mistakes and its columns may run together. See the pages · About this title · At the Internet Archive
Page 1
\Y \ Ws la Ney f \ \" ‘ \Y V \Y 4 \ A Nt! cai! Ln x y wv . \ ‘ AX WNW: MAMA (A Wi \ : \Y hb SATS July 22, 1890. fy LL No G7 $2.50 Price, is T No. 678. No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. Vol, XXVIL Mabry t hy i Wi iM | il i i ii i A ROMANCE OF NEVADA. BY ED. L. WHEELER, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ DEADWOOD DICK” NOVELS, ‘‘ ROSE- BUD ROB” NOVELS, ‘“‘SIERRA SAM” NOVELS, ETC., ETC., ETO, CHAPTER I. ROSEDALE FLATS. THe sunset of a pleasant summer day was just casting its parting rays over the pretty ittle mountain village of edale Flats, Ne- vada, and the miners of the town were home- UNDERNEATH THE GREAT ROCK THERE WAS REVEALED TO DICK’s AND OLD GRIZ’S ward wending their weary way. ASTONISHED GAZE, A SMALL CAVE OR CRYPT, Rosedale Flats considered itself to be abous
Page 2
the ‘‘ flyest ” town in all that section of country, but it was not. It was a drowsy, quiet little mining village, and pothing more, Of asum- mer day, such as this that was about drawing to a close, it was not hard to imagine that the town was asleep, The miners produced only enough to keep the population from idleness and starvation; the saloons were not by any means prosperous; and the one grocery-manu of the town looked lean and cadaverous, as though he had not hala square meal in a month. Still, Rosedale Flats had several {well-to-do citizens, but their busi- ness was in Carson City and they had chosen this quiet little town for their homes on account of its pleasant surroundings, and comparative respectability. bout the only establishment at the Flats do- ing a paying business, was Old Jim Rosedale’s new hotel. When the citizens complained of hard times, “Old Rosy *—as he was called—did not trouble his head ab-utit. Nor need he. He had made his pile in other days, when gold was to be had for the picking up, and had carefully salted it away, ow he could live at his ease, drink bis own “ buz-juice,” and ask no odds of any’one. He had put up his hotel and settled down to en- joy life, with enough money left to back up his enterprise for an indefinite period, and he was just as bappy with one guest in his bouse as with twenty, provided that one could drink, smoke and play cards, But, as stated, the hotel was doiug a payin business, and its proprietor was adding to his reserve fund rather than seeing it diminish, On this afternoon, two men were seated on the veranda of the hotel, engaged in conversa- tion, One of these men was Colonel Buck Blood, mine-owner, speculator, aud general all-around sport of the t.wn, The other was Hen Hoon, a local bully and loafer. Colonel Blood was a tall man of unusually com- ‘manding presence, a decided blonde, and some- thing of a favorite with all who knew him. “So, Hen, you think you can whip either of the men, eh?” he was saying. ‘* You bet,” was the laconic response, ‘* But, you have got no professional science, such as they are supposed to Nie ‘* Don’t keer fur that; I’m jest that boy as kin do it.” **T doubt it. ‘“Yer is welcome to doubt, Mister Blood; I knows better than you what I kin do.” Thecolonet smiled. * All right,” he humored; ‘“‘ chance for you to distinguish yourself, perhaps.” The matter ciel in this conversation had interested Rosedale Flats for many days, The camp had been in a fever of expectancy over an announced prize-fight between two out-of-town ugilists, and it had leaked out that Rosedale Plats had been chosen for the scene of battle, that the participants might escape the interfer- ence of the Carson City police. The ‘‘ mill,” it was understood, was to be for five hundred dollars a side, and gate-money—if a suitable place could be found, but no such place was to be had in the Flats. The auditory of the local charch had the largest floor space of any building in the town; but, when approached on the subject, the parson had refused, point-blank, to let the fight come off there. “Ungodly sons,” he cried, putting up his hands in horror, ‘ is this what-I am here for? to teach you to fight instead of pray?’ That settled it. If the fight came off at all it must be in the open air where all might see, and while this was highly pleasing to the many, it precluded the item of gate-money in making up the stakes, One of the pugilists was Jack Duffy, better known throughout Arizona and Nevada as the * Johnny Jumper.” The second party was unknown to the citizens of the Flats, but was said to be very clever with his fists. Just at sunset that day, a heavy rumble was heard, the rumble of wheels, and the daily stage rolled into the Flats. “The stage! the stage!” was the cry, anda rush was made for its stopping-place, where the old ‘*hearse” came to a halt, and the passengers alighted. One by one they ihe a goodly number of them, and mostly all strangers. ‘“Old Rosy” stood on the hotel. piazza, his arms akimbo and a grin of satisfaction on his grim old face. “ Looks like you are going to have a houseful, Rosy,” suggested Buck Blood. . 4 I Ww f D ga re) Z ‘Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. ‘** Yas, et do that,” the landlord agreed. **Have you got rooms and grub and juice enough?” ‘“You bet. Let’em come. Ican attend toa regiment of ’em, and not half try, either.” / **T say, Buck,” suddenly observed Hen Hoon, ‘*T wonder who them fellers aire that’s comin’ up ther slope there in advances of the rest, There is five of ’em, and they is sports, I opine,” ‘*T reckon they are,” the colonel agreed; ‘‘ but they are strangers to me.” ‘*Tt’s ther prize-fighters, I allow,” conjectured Hoon. “You may beright. I believe they were to arrive some days before the battle, in order to complete arrangements and rest up.” As the party drew near, the colonel ex- claimed: **T believe [ know that fellow ahead.” They came on, and soon reached the piazza, and the colonel at once rose and advanced, ex- tended his hand, and said: **Haven’t I the honor of greeting Deadwood Dick?” He it was, ‘“ That's myself; or, rather, whai’s left of me, after riding in that old trap for such a distance,” was the response, and Dick beld out his hand with equal friendliness, ‘‘ You have got the advantage of me, though,” he added; ‘‘ have we ever met before?” ‘Why, yes,” the colonel assured, as they shook hands; *‘met you once at Virginia City. I am Colonel Buck Blood.” “Well, I beg your pardon, colonel,” Dick proceeded to apologize, ‘‘ but you have slipped anchor in my memory altogether,” “* Don’t mention it,” the colonel waived; ‘a man can’t be expected to remember every per- son he meets.” General introductions then followed, after which the ty adjourned to the bar-room, where they lingered but a rew minutes and were then shown to their rooms, t had proved to be the pugilistic party, as Hen Hoon had surmised, Besides the two principals, Deadwood Dick and Jack Duffy, the party consisted of Jobnny Webb, Harry McDaniels, and Pete More. The last-named was Deadwood Dick’s second. Once in their room, Dick and his man pro- ceeded to take a bath and brush up generally. They needed it, for it had been a dusty journey. ‘* Well,” observed Pete, ‘here we are iu the camp of Rosedale Flats, at last. What d'ye think of the place?” ‘* T haven’t formed an impression yet,” replied Dick, proceeding to dry his hands and face up- on a towel the size of a handkerchief, ** Ever been here before?” ‘*No. I’ve traveled on all sides cf Carson City, too, but I never ran across this town be- ore, ‘*Kind of an old-f place, I guess; but, what of that? That io Bua we wate We will be free from police molestation here, you see, and everything can be cone on the quiet.” eadwood Dick shrugged his muscular shoul- ers, ‘* The battle may not come off at all,” he said. ‘“* Why not? You don’t think that Jack will do the flunk act?” ‘*T wouldn’t like to bet either way on that,” was the response. ‘*He appears rater nervous 7 vos y po ticed that; but, hall ave no at; but, as challenger. he hadn't ought to be skeered at this stage of the me, ‘* Tf he loses, you know, he loses all he has got in the world,” ‘*T was not aware of that.” “Nor was I, until I heard him tell Johnny d Dick Bristol certainly was a handsome man when dressed up, and when he descended to the supper-room he attracted instant attention. He was the observed of all observers, and was es- yg admired by the ladies, Old Rosedale several families Loarding at his hotel for the summer, who returned to Uar- son Cily Jatein autumn. Each of these families had one or more eligible daughters; and now that an Adonis had arrived, there promised to be a rivalry among the young ladies to see who should be the first to make the acquaintance of the dashing stranger. it After supper, Dick went out upon the piazza, and seating himself, lighted a cigar and pro- ceeded to enjoy the bracing evening air. **]t seems more like a quiet country villa than a hotel in a mining-camp, and I rather like it,” he mused, . ** If aayprsien' A opponent, does not do me up too badly, shouldn’t wonder but that I od / A! ieee ar Nt aa it ; ¥ , . i's ' ; ae") oe “ oS beh ud Bhi ah ite Lith cae eee Ba on Yaa) PE ER OMS AEE ODP kes Obra MRD oh I aN ane it ry halt y waa The may conclude to finish out the summer here, and a rest.” He was soon joined by Colonel' Blood, who seemed to have taken quite a hking to him, ** Ah! enjoying yourself, I see!” the colonel exclaimed, ort into a seat, ‘* Well, yes,” Dick responded. ‘“ Your sum- mer nights here at Rosedale Flats are very pleas- ant. lam an ardent admirer of Nature and like to sit, on an evening such as this, and wander off into dreamland. It is not often I have such an opportunity.” ‘You are on the move pretty much all the time, I presume.” “Well, yes. It would be hard for me to say wae I have had a whole week of quiet and rest. _ Just then the tinkle of a piano broke the even- ing stillness, followed by a clear, flute-like voice, warbling a snatch of opera. CHAPTER II. OLLIE WHITNEY. DEADWOOD DICK listened in amaztment, The colonel seemed to enjoy his surprise, ‘* Who is that singing?” Dick demanded, “It is the voiceof an angel!” . ‘‘ It is Ollie Whitney, in the parlor,” the colovel explained. “I pity her, poor girl. Without father or mother, she bas a bard fight against the world. You should know her Bristol; she is the sweetest girl in this town, and yet one of the least looked upon.” ** Yes? tell me about her,” Dick requested, as he leaned back in his chair and sent a column of cigar smoke curling upward; “I’m just in the proper mood tu enjoy an entertaining story.” ow, if there was one thing Colonel Blood en- joyed more than another, it was to go rambling back into the archives of time past and brin bits of history to light. He took pretty g care, however, not to throw too much light up- on his own past life, -# ‘“ Well,” he began, ‘‘ the first man to discover pay ae here was Jason Whitney. He wasa sort of wandering genius and as shrewd as they make ’em; but, he whs a little, shriveled-up old cuss, crippled and cranky, and no one ever much attention to anything he said or did. ‘* What struck folks as most peculiar was, that he always seemed to have plenty of money about his clothes, and yet had no visible source of income; for, after this camp was struck, he did no mining to speak of. ’ “One night I saw him get a hundred dollars’ worth of gold weighed in, and says I to myself: ‘That old chap has got a little gold hill of bis own somewhere.’ But, no one suspected where it could be, for the whole surrounding countr had been explored over and over again, and this locality was considered practically at ‘See that house yonder, on the cli ‘*T believe I discern it,” “Well, that was built and tenanted by Whit- ney, long before any one knew anything about it. He must have lived there at least two years before his retreat was found, As soon as the house was discovered, then it was set down for a fact that there must be gold here, and pros- tors flocked in and the camp was struck, hen questioned, Whitney did not pretend to deny it. He simply smiled and said: ““* Yes, there’s gold. here, no donbt of it, if you can only find it.. I’ve found some,’ ‘‘ When the facts of the case leaked out, it — was seen that be had been here abou’ five yea and all that time had been pegging away with pick and pan, If there had been any rich placer pockets, they could not have esca him, for I venture to say that the whole of Rosedale Flats, pi t rocks and timber, has been rocked in his cradle, ‘**Old Rosy here was one of the first settler after the discovery, and the camp was nam after him, He wasn’t a miner then, but opened a hotel down there in that shebang where tke F He had made his pile and his idea of taking life easy was being owner and propricter of a “* Jason Whitney had but one friend whom he of a quarter of a million buried somewhere in faq & ml new here in th ws vicinity, and that it was all to goto his: rhter ‘ soreen his when she married according to the will, which was buried with the treasure, That’s
Page 3
& eT ; Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. t all. [ could find out, for the old man shut up and staggered home, and the next day he died. ‘** And as for Whitney, he was found dead in the mountains a few days later, but novhing was found upon his person to give any clew to where ‘the buried treasure was located. Nordid the search at his house reveal anything. Poor Ollie was left alone, and almost penniless, but not friendless. The citizens of the camp made upa little fund for her, and found hera place to board. Later on, when Old Rosy put up this big hotel, he made a fair offer and she accepted it. That offer was that if she would make her home here, and play the piano for the amuse- ment of the guests and make herself useful to Aunty Rosedale, he would give hera home as long as she wanted to stay, and would pay her a ‘There, Bristol, that is the story. We have not quite given up hopes of finding that fortune yet, however.” Deadwood Dick was interested. ‘Do you think it will ever be found?” he little something besides. asked, ‘That's hard to say. No doubt it will come to light sometime, but maybe not in our day.” ‘Maybe not; and since the girl is not desti- tute, but seems to have a gt home, I cannot see that she isdoing sobadly, By the way, did I understand you to say that she had always lived here? If so, where did she learn to play and sing as she does?” “Hal did I omit that point? I didn’t mean to, No, the girl had been here only a few months ‘when Old Whit died. She had been in some school out East.” “ That’s better,” observed Dick, ‘‘ We can’t gather grapes from thorns and figs from thistles, you know. i ‘“‘ Right you are, And you are right about the girl’s not faring badly here, but she is not happy. She is ’most always in a melan- choly mood, as though brooding over some secret trouble.” ‘* What do you think it can be?” _ “ Give it up.” “* Ts she in good health?” “ Apparently. She takes plenty of exercise on her horse, and comes back from her rides as fresh and pretty as the mountain pink.” ay ft is a little strange.” ‘* There’s one thing,” said Blood, meditative- ae"? and that may have much to do with the 2 ase, ** What's that?” Dick asked. * Snubbery.” *©Eh? What? How’s that?” “*T said snubbery. Most of those grandy dames you saw at the table to-night are the wives and daughters of rich men of Carson and Virginia. ich are a little set or coterie by themselves, to the exclusion of Ollie, who is as good as the best of them, but whom they snub at every chance.” ’ * Shameful.” ** Of course it is.” “« But, does she really mind it?” ‘She wouldn’t be a woman if she didn’t. ‘They’re born that way. If she were to come in- to her fortune suddenly, all would be different; or if she were to get married to some fellow with plenty of rocks; and I tell you it would please me ’most to death to see it happen either way.” “ Why don’t you marry her?” The colonel ghey, Yr his shoulders. “Tt wouldn’t do, said, * Why not?” / “ Because I’ve got five or six hitched fast to me now,” ’ Dick laughed. ‘*'You are well fixed,” he observed. “ Yes, hang it. Why, I see pretty girls every day that I might try to capture if it wasn’t for the old stock on hand. Say, though, Bristol, this is a chance for you to ti Ad luck.” ‘*T don’t know about that,” Dick jokingly*re- turned, ‘I haven’t taken an inventory of m ‘own stock lately, and don’t know whether have got more than the law allows or not. By the way, does Miss Whitney derive any income _ from the house over yonder?” “No. We have tried in vain to rent it for her, but everybody seems to have a queer sus- picion against it. They say it’s haunted.” ** What fools!” Bi ee are right. A new one is born every ay believe What can the place be rented tor, per monta?” by, think of renting it?” A “What would you do with it, I'd like to| ward until he was within a foot of the bear’s know?” “On, fix it up and live init. I have an idea that I may spend the rest of the summer here.” ‘“*T believe you think of hunting for Old Whit’s fortune,” the colonel bluntly declared, **T may devote some spare moments to that, But you kave not answered my question, ‘* Ob! about the price. I don’t reckon she will overcharge you, ait here, and I will go and see her about it.” The colonel rose and went into the parlor, soon returning accompanied by Ollie Whitney. She was a young lady of eighteen, of medium height, and quite slender, Her eyes were blue, and her haira rare shade of nut brown. Her ‘face was pretty, pensive, and sweet, Dick rose and threw away his cigar, and Col- onel Blood introduced him, ** Did you wish to see me, sir?” Ollie asked. ‘* Yes,” Dick answered. ‘I was talking with Mr. Blood about your house, and would like to know for what price per month you will rent it. ‘“Do you want to take it?” ‘*-Yes,” ‘What use will you make of it?” “Why, I will live in it, of course,’’ Dick re- lied, ‘* J was just saying to the colonel that I lieve I will spend the rest of the summer here, and such a house will just suit me,” ‘* Have you been over to see it?” **No, but I am willing to take all risks,” “IT think you had better go over ard examine it before we talk about terms, It may not suit ay for it is no pleasant home for a woman, and— “Oh! but there is no woman in the case!” Dick hastily informed. ‘I am not married, but intend to set up a bachelor’s hall. That is to say, I will if I decide to stay here.” ‘* Well, it is not a very desirable place anyhow, sir,” the young lady insisted, ‘‘ and I will not rent it to you until youhaveseenit. You might be sorry of your bargain,” “No fear of that, but let it be as you wish, Have you keys?” ‘“*There are no keys; the doors never had any locks,” Some further remarks were exchanged, and then the colonel escorted the lady back to the parlor, and as he did not return within a few minutes, Dick left the piazza aud strolled away down the slope toward the “ flats” proper, where most of the village was situated, ‘CHAPTER IIL AN UNEXPECTED FIND. DIRECTLY across the gulch from the big hotel, on a similar knoll, was the situation of the Whitney house. This was on the north side of the “ flats,” the hotel being on the south. ~ Between the two bluffs ran a little creek, which bent in close to the knoll on the north side, where it was spanned by a rustic bridge. From this point the path to. the house led up the slope. Deadwood Dick lighted a fresh cigar as he descended into the gulch, and as he walked along he meditated: “T believe I will go over and take a look at my proposed new investment. It is hardly the proper time for such work, I know, but that does not greatly matter, provided that I can beg, an steal, or borrow, a lantern.” hen he reached the flats he entered the one eco, supply store of the town and boughta antern, and when it had been filled and lighted he set out upon his nocturnal visit to the Whitney house, crossing the little bridge and ey sey oe path that led up the slope. When Dick arrived at the house he found it to be a substantial frame building, two stories high. There were a door and two windows ia front on the ground floor, and two windows above. The door was standing wide open, __ After a casual survey of the exterior, Dick advanced to the door, but he came toa sudden stop. There, on tho door-sill, a huge cinnamon bear lay stretched out. ; ‘*Hello! here is a gol” Dick exclaimed; ‘‘a tenant here in advance of me, eh? This won’t do. We shall bave to test the matter, Mr. Bruin, and see who has the best right here.” The bear was a monster, and was evidently fast asleep, for it made no stir. ‘‘T don’t know whether to tackle him or not,” Dick muttered. ‘‘They’re nasty critters to encounter, when met § are hungry; I've got only revolver and knife, "mm I wouldn’t stand much of a show.” Drawing his knife, nevertheless, he stole for- head. Still the animal moved not. It was now that Dick made a discovery. The bear wasdead! Not dead as mortals die, never again toreturn to this life; not cold, stiff and lifeless; oh, no; for he was breathing heavily. The truth of the matter was, he was dead drunk! Dick first came to this conclusion when he flashed his Jantern into the interior of the house. The door opened into a room, and the floor of this was bestrewed with empty and broken whisky bottles, Evidently, while on a foraging expedition about the place, Mr, Bruin bad found a bonanza, and had proceeded to make the best of it, “By Jove!” Dick muttered, ‘if I can only find some rope [ll take the big fellow alive, That would set me all right at the Flats, He stepped softly over the bear and entered the house, and not pausing to examine any of the rooms in front, made directly for the rear. After a short search in the kitchen he found some rope, and going back, proceeded to bind his Honor—Mr. Bruin. It was not an easy task, for he bad to move the big brute about in order to get its feet to- gether, but the bear slept through it all, and in due time Mr. Bruin was so securely bound that there was little chance for his making his es- cape, Bick had even taken the precaution to put a muzzle on the animal, so that it could not gnaw off the bonds, ** Jove! but there will be a howl when the old fellow wakes up,” he laughed. ‘‘ He will let ple know that he is around, I guess ho is all se- cure, and now I will take a ramble through the house and see what’s to be seen,” Taking up his lantern, he set about it. There was not much to be seen. This room, the one in which the bear was found, and which was evidently intended to be the parlor, was un- furnished. The next, into which it opened, was the same, except that it. held a table and three chairs. The third room, the kitchen, contained a cupboard, a cook-stove, and some common arti- cles of furniture. A visit up-stairs discovered two rooms with beds in them, and nothing more, Apparently, the Whitneys had lived here in a very primitive maoner, Dick next went to the cellar and took a care- ful look around, ‘* Misers, when they bury their fortunes, gen- erally select the cellar as the place,” he mused. “*T don’t know how it was with our good friend Whitney. He may have been an exception to the rule.” There was nothing in particular, however, to indicate that Whitney had deposited his “ boodle” in the sandy ground that formed the cellar bot- tom, That other prospectors, or treasure-hunters, had been there before was evident, for the whole bottom had been dug over and over again, un- tilit looked like a garden ready for the plant- ing. ““T guess there is nothing to be found here,” Dick thought, ‘‘aud I have done about enough skylarking for one night, anyhow, [I'll go back tothe hotel and go to bed, for I must keep in trim for the coming event,” He turned and went up to the floor above, and so on out of doors, The bear was still holding the fort in the door- way, sleeping soundly on, and oblivious to hig surround ngs ** You will keep where you are till morning,” mused Dick, “ and then take you over and sell you to the hotel man.” Leaving the bluff, he descended into the © gulch, where he lingered a few minutes, saun- ' aig about to see what was to be seen, and then he ascended the other side to the hotel, The first man he met there was Pete More. ‘““Where have you been off to now?” Pete . demanded. ; ““Oh, only taking a little stroll about the town,” was Dick’s response. “Funny I didn’t come up. “Nothing funny about it, that I can see; rere didn’t look in the right place, that’s ‘* Well, you want to look out where you go, Dick, for no knowing what sort of a trick may be played on you. I can’t afford to let you lose that fight, and under my contro ar: ‘ “Yes, I know I did, but to tell the truth; [ - haven’t thought much about itsincé. Here £ nd you, for I was down there looking all around for you, and have just | ' ee ee eae yes promised to put yourself if 6 nO eee =
Page 4
" 4 . when it’s over, though, even if I get the worst if you onl Awe at” . ut je ia : Or ae ! oe a RH sgl TI ti 5 ig A gtr Sey DT Eg Oe) aa ey Lo ' go abruptly, _ the Whitney house.” ; ’ v fs . ne Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. {S _— responded, ‘*I was complimenting you on your pleasant climate last night, but Pil be blowed if this looks much like it.” ‘*On! we do have these spells once in a while, but not often.” ° “**T should hope not.” ** Et looks like that leetle matter of yours will have to be postponed. No use tryin’ to do any- thing in this weather.” ‘Worse luck,” Dick growled. ‘‘I was in hopes that it could come off and be done with.” ‘ic will be a big disapp’int for ther Flats.” am, though, all safe and sound, and you may do what you please with me, Have a weed?” Pete took the proffered cigar, and they went into the bar-room together, ‘* Where are the others?’ Dick asked, glancing around and seeing that none of the fighting party was there, ** Gone to roost, I guess,” Pete answered. They sat down, and Dick inquired: “Well, anything arranged yet?” ** Yes, everything is fixed,” Pete informed. ** Ha! that’s good, What's the programme?” ** The mill is to come off at sunrise to-morrow, ‘* No doubt about it.” down on the flats near the bridge. Couldn’t get In a little time te house was astir, and the any building big enough, so it will have to ke ; demand for hot drinks was active. fought in the open air.” **Never sold so many hot whiskies before at **Soon as that, eh?” one time,” the landlord observed to Dick, when “Yes. You see the other side is gettin’ the latter came out from breakfast, he having nervous, thinkin’ that the police or the sheriff’s | partaken of the meal in advance of the other men will get wind of the affair, and come over guests, and put a stop to the proceedin’s.” “Téisan ill wind that blows nobody good,” ‘‘ Well, the soonor it’s over tL “tter, per- | Dick returned. haps.” When the ladies came down to breakfast **T agree with you.” every one wore a wrap of some kind, and they **It bas been a great boré to me all the way | denounced the weather as simply horrid. The through,” Dick declared, ‘‘ ’d rather give Jack | clerk of the weather bureau was severely cen- the stakes than meet him, but be won’t have it | sured. that way. Ever since I took a fall out of him After breakfast was over, all hands adjourned one night down in Arizona, he has been bother- to the parlor, where Ollie Whitney was pre- ing me to fight him, and in order to get rid of | vailed upon to render several pieces upon the him I at last agreed to meet him. J'll be glad | piano, She played elegantly—in truth not another of it.” lady in the house could approach her either in ** Don’t talk like that, for the battle is yours | playing or singing, and this fact, perhaps, had handle yourself right.” much to do with the ‘‘snubbery ” of which Col- And [ll try to do that, Is it generally | onel Blood had spoken, known that we are going tu meet?” During the forenoon Adonis Dick received in- **Oh, yes: but as everybody here is anxious to | troductions to the different young ladies of the see the mill, no onc is likely vo bother us.” elite coterie, and soon found that be had his Just then they were joined by Colonel Blood, | hands full, They buzzed around him like bees, ‘‘ Hello! here you are, eb?” he exclaimed, | and Dick soon began to wish that he had not en- **You slipped away from me nicely, didn’t | tered the parlor at all, Finally he managed to break away from them, however, and escaped to the bar-room, where he settled himself dowu to spend the rest of that nasty day over his cigars and some of Old Rosy’s choice vintage. All of the fighting party had the blues, and were in despondent moods. The storm still raged, and showed no signs of abating. hen noon came Deadwood Dick did not feel hungry, so he did not go in to dinner with the others, Besides, he wanted a chance to talk with Ollie Whitney. Glancing into the parlor, he saw that she was there. He entered, and drew her into conversation. “Youdo not dine to-day, eh?’ he observed, taking a seat near her, “Not with that set,’ the girl responded, her eyes flashing. ‘‘I am supposed to eat at the first table, and generally do, but these persons are altogether too big-feeling to suit my style, and I prefer to dine alone, But, of course they are right, for [ am a servant here, as 1 suppose ‘ou “IT thought you had found more agreeable company and were not coming back,” Dick re- sponded, ‘so I set out for a little stroll.” **Why,I was gone only a few minutes. I merely stopped to pass a few remarks with Miss Ollie, and then came right out, but you had vanished. If I bad known you intended going for a stroll, I would havegone with you. Which way did you go?” ** Accept my apology, then, for taking leave Woy, I went up to take a look at ‘*Ha! did you! Well, what do you think of “ Why, it is all right, so far as I can see, and I’m going to take it. “*Saw no ghost, eh?” 1% Nary ghost. Have you ever seen one there?” “oe No. a Do you know any one who has?” ou No. b] ** Then this haunted house is about like all of J a eee them, I take it; nothing to it but imaginings in | you know?” s0me weak, superstitious minds.” ‘*T have been told that you make your home * Very likely you are right.” here.” f ‘‘ Yes, as an employee, and to help Aunty Rosedale in hostess, “ But they will devour all the good things, and you will get left.” Aunty Rosedale looks ** Ob! no fear of that. out for me.” * Ah! lsee, Well, thatis good. So you and the lady guests of the house do not hitch very well,” “ No.” ** Why not?” ‘* Well, they think they are better than I am, and that is where they avd Ido not agree. think I am just as good as any of them.” **OF course you are,” declared Dick, ** and perbaps a good deal better. Wealth, like charity, often covers a multitude of sins.” . "Sol bave heard. Have you been over to see the house yet? But how foolish for me to ask! [might know you would not goin such a storm as this.” ‘* But I have been there.” * You have!” ** Sure. “ When?” * Last night.” ** And all alone?” ‘To be sure, Why not?” & it I should think you would have been afraid! ? - So, you have a superstition of the place, too, “Why, of course, I am. stock in the story?” ** No, none at all. never want to, There are men in this town, however, who are willing to swear that they have seen lights up there at different times, and have heard uncanny noises there after night.” * Well, that does not frighten me. They’ll see more lights, after I move in, and maybe hear more noises, too.” : » The matter was passed off with a laugh, and when they had finished their cigars Dick and his second retired to their room to get a night’s Do you take any Tam — to play, er duties of I never saw a ghost, and good sleep. An hour later the house was closed and dark. CHAPTER IV. OLLIE’S TRIUMPH. WHEN a new day dawned upon Rosedale Flats matters had changed for the worse, that is to say—matters respecting the weather, he sky was overcast wiih sullen, frowning clouds; a fierce, bitter wind was blowing, bring- ing with it sheets of rain; tie temperature was something wintry, : Doors and windows had to be closed, and ae were needed to make one at all comforta- Deadwood Dick was the first one up in the house, except Old Rosy, who was behind the bar fixing himself up a hot drink when Dick went down, “ Hello! joule man, what do you think of | “ Yes, I must own that I have.” ellow demanded, ‘No, I was not afraid; I am not so great a his?” the old f jo et coward as that, I hope, I had quite an ad- it im I don’t think well of it, I can fell you,” Dick -_ . { ‘ ~ venture, however, and— But, there, I had for- in gotten ali about my prisoner!” ‘*Oh! tell meall about it, An adventure—a prisoner. Did you see and capture a ghost?” ‘© Oh, no, there was no ghost about it. I am proof against ghosts, and ’'m going to take your house, How much do you want for it? Dll tell you abvut the adventure presently.” ‘* Ts ten dollars a month too muck? What lit- tle furniture there is in the house goes with the rent.” ** Not a cent too much, and here’s the pay for two months, lt isa bargain, and when I move in and get settled you must come over and see me, and see how nicely I can get along with the ghosts,” Ollie took the money with thanks, putting it into her pocket. ** Well, I hope you won’t be gorry of your bar- gain,” she said. ‘Ob! [ guess there’s no danger.” ‘“* And now tell me about your adventure.” ** Yes, I will do so, When I got to the house last night I found it in the possession of a stran- ger. It was nota ghost, either, but something a good deal bigger. In truth, the fellow was a ood deal bigger than I am myself, and a tough- edling customer to deal with. At first I was tempted to shoot him, but.on second considera- tion | concluded not to kil him but to capture him, if I could; so 1 got some rope and soon had bim securely bound,” “Who was he, though?’ Ollie demanded, her eyes wide open with interest. “T didn’t Jearn his Christian name,” Dick answered, ‘* but I give you ney word for it that he was the biggest bear that I ever set eyes on.” At this juncture Ollie burst into a peal of sil- very laughter. ‘* What are you laughirg abcut?” asked Dick. ‘* Was the bear asleep?” Ollie questioned, ‘Yes, aud as drunk as a lord. The young lady went off into another paroxysm of laughing. ‘ Well,” remarke? Dick, “if you will tel} me what you are laughing about, perhaps | cam laugh too,” ‘* Why, it is nothing much,” Ollie explained, “ only that wild and ferocious animal you cap- tured is Old Bob,” ** Who is Old Bob?” ; ‘The pet of every man, women and child in the camp. He formerly belonged to pa, who brought him up from a cub, and trained him, Why, that bear wouldn’t harm a kitten, He is as kind and gentle as a lamb, and a great et, Naturally, Dick looked and felt not a little cteetined at this explosion of his heroic adven- ture, ** Well, I could not know that it was a tame bear,” he exclaimed, ‘’ and more’s the wonder I did not kill it.” ‘‘ Td never have forgiven you if you had,” Ollie declared. ‘* But, you would not know who had killed ” m, ‘* Wouldn’t I? You would kave told me about. it, just as you have done, Anyhow, I should bave suspected, for no one else would be likely to go near the place.” ‘* Well,” Dick promised, ‘‘ I will make amends by going over and releasing the captive as soon as the rain lets upalittle. By the way, Miss Whitney, I wanted to ask you what you know about your father’s buried fortune?” * Nothing.” “Do not think that I ask the question idly, I have taken a notion to hunt for it a little, and I may be lucky enough to find it. If 1am, then you will be able to enjoy a little sweet revenge upon these ladies who have been treating you so shabbily. {give you my word of honor that I would turn every penny of it over to you—” “Oh! sir,ZI have no thought that you would do otherwise,” Ollie interrupted. ‘* Have you no idea where it may be found?” ‘"Not the slightest, or I should have hada search made for it ere this.” * Ave you sure that your father had a fortune POR . Hi d t deal of gold h, yes. He mined a great deal of go along this valley, and converted it all into money. He used to keep it in an old chest, but not long before his death he took it from there and bid it somewhere else. * It will all be yours one of these days, if you follow my wishes,’ he would say to me, ‘and before I die I will tell you where it is.’ But that fatal fall he got from the. rocks up in the mountains prevented bis telling me or any one else.” ve you any idea how much money he» had?” “* A good many thousands, I should say.” Me eT pes Hi i etek wenden
Page 5
res DE Sie ~ — — * Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. “You had not always Jived with him bere in the West, I am told.” “No; L came here from Newburg, New York where I spent several years in a boarding-school for young ladies,” ‘““And that explains how you came to play and sing so well.” ** You like my playing, then?” ‘*1 do; and while the upper-ten are at dinner, won't you faror me witha little song?” “T will try, if it will please you,” she said, and glided gracefully away to the piano, Now was the hour of Ollie Whitney’s triumph. She had unwittingly captured the attention for a moment of the bandsome young stranger, She knew that all the other young ladies were eager to make a conquest, and it pleased ber to play to him alone, if it would but excite the envy of these gay young birds of wealth and fashion. So she sat down at the piano and darted off into the mysteries of an exceedingly . difficut selection, putting forth all the vebemence of a German master in the heavy parts, and then grading down to a lightness of touch that a fairy might envy, When she bad done, the en- tire house seemed echoing with melody. ‘* And now a song, please,” Dick requested, Olhe ran her fingers lightly over the keys in prelude, and then ber pretty throat swelled in song, sending forth that soft, flute-like voice that had so charmed Dick when he heard it first, ‘The song was one with which he was familiar, and when it came to the chorus he lent hisrich, baritone voice with telling effect. The guests soon began to flock in from the dining-room, but they were too late. The song had ended. ‘* There,” said Ollie, as she closed down the lid of the piano and arose, ‘‘ I guess you will do for now;” and she glided away, while Dick return- ed to the bar-room and sat down to reflect, CHAPTER V. OLD ROSY’S CAUTIONS, “BLAMED nice girl, that,” Deadwood Dick mused, ‘‘and I fancy I like her too well. This won't do, Ricbard! I thought you had got over your early susceptibilities. Here you are, though, thinking soft of a girl you have not known twenty-four hours. Verily, Richard, this won’t do. You must put on the break.” ‘* Waal, this kinder Jooks as if we were goin’ to have a spell of weather,” remarked Rosedale, coming from bebind the bar and taking a seat beside Dick, business being dull just then; ‘‘ how’s yer think about it, Bristol?’ “ Well, it strikes me that we are getting it al- ready,” Dick responded, ** Yas, LT reckon the old equinox hev slipped her halter afore her time, and is goin’ to have a jamboree.” ‘* Do you often have such rains?” ‘“*No, We get a shower Cnce in awhile, but it don’t amount to much, Evena sizable shower, though, gits the creek down thar in the gulch up- on her ear, and she raises a devil of a time. I don’t know what this storm may do. Ifitkeeps on pourin’ thar’ll be a flood in dead earnest, and them folks on the flats will have to move.” ** You’re all safe, up here.” “You bet. By the way, hey you rented the yg house?’ ‘ es, ** Not afeerd of ghosts, eh?” “Nary. That is all nonsense, You must have a brave lot of ducks in this camp, if they take stock in such rot. I am told they are afraid of the house after the sun goes down. Must be a lot of cowards.” ‘* You'd best talk easy on that line, Bristol,” the landlord cautioned. “Why sof” | You might be overheard.” ** And what of tbat?” “It might be the start of your gettin’ into trouble.” ** Explain yourself,” “Waal, there is a band of six men in this camp who 1s bound together to look after: ther peace of the town. D’m jest givin’ you a p’inter on the quiet, you see. Tuey are called the Social Six. They do their work in secret. You kick up a row, or incur their displeasure, and they attend to you, They don’t act openly, and nothin’ is done to you publicly. The citizens wouldn’t molest you, but the first you know you find yourselt a prisoner of the Six, and you re ceive punishment from tnem.” ‘* Nice state of things, that,” Dick commented. “*T think I'll talk about as I pléase, and run the risks, Of what does this punishment con- sist. ‘ _ “T don’t know; but them that’s been through ther mill come back lookin’ as though they’d been dragged through a knot-hole.” *T think I'll make it my business to look up this gang,” said Dick. ‘‘There is no law to countenance such proceedings, and so this Social Six are outlaws.” ‘** You hadn’t best do anything of ther sort.” ‘Why not?” ** Because, you'll only git yourself inter trou- ble, and your life may pay ther forfeit.” “Ob! I am not at all afraid of that. I have been through too many rough experiences, By the way, Mr. Rosedale, I presume you were ac- guainted with Jason Whitney, the father of your pretty song-bird.” “ as, I was.” *. “What kind of character was he?” * Mighty eccentric.” **In what way?” . ‘* Well, he was a miser, for one thing, except so fur as concerned himself and ther gal, I don't think he ever begrudged anything that himself or ther gal wanted. If he wanted a drink he walked inter ther bar-room, slapped down his money, got what be wanted and walked out again. But that wasn’t often, for he gen’ly bought his liquid fire wholesale,” ‘** Was he a hard drinker?” ** His dainty limit was a quart.” ‘Heavens! No wonder be came to an un- timely end,” “Whisky didn’t do tbat fer him; his quart gen’ly lasted a week or two.” oe Onl that’s better. What then did take him *‘Tallus had an idea that there wasa little foul play about his sudden death but maybe I’m wrong,” bs Wiens do you suspect?” ‘Waal, I don’t know, fur I can’t say as I ever settled that p’int in my mind ’gainst any- body,” Rosedale replied. ‘* You must have some idea,” ** Waal, at any rate none that I care to ex- press, There was only a few persons the old man ever spoke to, After the camp was struck here he didn’t bother it much, except to come around occasionally and git his quart. Most of his time be spent ramblin’ about in ther moun- tains, After that gal came, she kept close to ther house. She was seldom seen.” **Do you believe Whitney had as big a fortune as it is represented?” ‘*No doubt of it, He bad been mining here for years, and plucking ther fat right out of the gulch, Ther fortune probably ceased to grow when the camp was ’stablished, Every one knowed he had a fortune, and numerous at- tempts were made to find it, some even before he died, Some folks has an idea that where he died is close to where the fortune is buried. “Has search been made there?” ** Yesea dozen of ’em,” ** And nothing found?” ‘*Nary. There’s no use searchin’, I tell ’em, Old Whit was cute enough to put it in some out- landish place where no one would think of lookin’ for it.” ‘*In case it is accidentally found, do you sup- pose the finders will be honest enough to turn it over to the girl?” Old Rosy shrugged his shoulders, ‘*Thas would depend somewhat on who found it,” he said, ‘‘There’s a few honest people in this town, I allow, who would give the gal her own, Then there’s another alan that would keep ther lion’s share, if not all.” ‘** The latter are in the majority?” **Oh, yes, largely.” ‘* How about the Social Six?” A shrug of the shoulders, ‘¢ Well,” Dick persisted, ‘who are the ones who iy principally eager to find this for- une ‘Waal, let’s see: There's Sherwood, of Carson; he’s offered five hundred dollars fora clew leadin’ to its discovery; and severe! of our citizens has offered similar amounts. Jim Rosedale, here, your humble servant, has made himself heard, too, in the interest of ther gal. I reckon one of ther strongest ’thusiasts on ther subject is Hen Hoon,” ‘* He means business, eh?” “Yes, he’s after ther fortune hot. He’s at ther head of a gang of ruffiansof bisown stamp, and they swear they’ll kill all other searchers,’ “They had better look out and go a little slcw, or they may get popped over themselves, I’ve a notion that Pil take a hand in this little ame, **T wouldn’t advise you to,” “* Why not? ‘Because it will only get you into trouble, T'll tell you quietly that some folks here is a little suspicious of you already, and when it leaks out that you are after ther fortune, there may be an uprising against you.” ** Let ’em rise!” “But, you can’t fight the whole town, can you?” ** You don’t know what I ean do,” “Maybe not; but you let that fortune alone,” ** Not much!” ** You'll be sorry.” **T’m seldom sorry for what [ do,” ** Oh, well, go ahead; it’s not my pie.” **Tell you what I'll do,” said Dick, lighting a cigar, * What’s that?” ‘“*T'll bet ten dollars against a hundred of these cigars that I am the first man to find the Whitney fortune, Old Rosy jumped at the chance, j ‘It’s a lyeq_ sin,” he cried, The bet was cemented with a hand-shake, which ended the conversation, Rosedale being called away. e During this talk a vision of Ollie Whitney had been before Dick’s mind’s eye all the time, He took a nap in the afternoon, but he dreamed of her—saw her—heard her sweet voice. » When he awoke it was nearly tea-time, and he was now hungry enough. ‘*Til be blowed if I will eat at the general table with those aristocrats who are treating the girl so shabbily,” he vowed. “i reckon if I were to gather in my deposits from different banks I could buy the crowd, To spite them, just for Ollie’s sake, I’ll have a private table.” When he went down-stairs he at once sought Rosedale, The old man was bebind the bar, dealing out liquid refreshments at a lively : ate. As soon as he was at liberty, Dick made known his desire. ‘* Want a private table, eh?” the landlord con- sidered. ‘Certainly, Can have all the tables you want, Just go tackle the old woman, She will fix you out.” Nothing daunted, Dick: proceeded to ‘‘ tackle the old woman,” as directed, He sought out Aunty Rosedale and made known his whim to her, and it was soon arranged. It was somewhat of a surprise to the other guests, therefore, when they came trooping in to supper, to see the handsome stranger seated ata private table by himself, with the best the house afforded spread out before him, It was not generally known to the ladies that Dick was one of the prize-fighting party, as there were four of them without him, and they had occupied the foot of the main table since their arrival. What their feelings and comments would be, when they came to know that they had been making much of a *“‘common prize-fighter,” Dick could only imagine. He bad given thema clean cut, and he was pleased to note that they saw it, and that it was giving them much food for comment among themselves. CHAPTER VI, THE BULLY ON THE RAMPAGE, THAT dismal day was destined not to close without a breeze of excitement, It eame about in this way: Hen Hoon was on a jamboree, and in the course of his rounds paid a visit to the hotel, where he proceeded to put down several ‘ straights,” That done, he took the center of the flocr and proceeded to state that he was a ‘“jim-dandy,” and that he could “lick” any “‘guloot” that wore shoe-leather, As no one present questioned his statement, Hen took another drink for luck. Just then Deadwood Dick, coming from sup- per, took a seat in the front of the room, lighted a gal and proceeded to make himself comfort- able. But he was not left long unmolested, for the bully soon espied him and came swaggering u “Hello, hyar, me gallus hunki-dori with a yer goud clothes on!” he cried; ‘* who air you, . and what be you doin’ in this town?” ‘‘Thatis my business,” replied Dick. “Oh! it is, hey?” ** You bet!” ‘Waal, I dunnoabout that, Mebby I hev got a word to say about it.” ** Not if I know myself you haven't,” retorted Dick. “Iam president, vice-president and gen- eral manager of my own business, and I don’t employ auy extra help.” ‘“* Maybe you don’t know who I am.” ‘* No, and I don’t care a flip, either.” “Waal, I'll proceed to inform you that I am the great and only Henry Hoon, the terror of all 7 =e ge
Page 6
. fis hand, Nevada, and the champion knocker-out of the age. I kin liek any galoot in thiscamp, yourself included.” “Well, go ahead and lick ’em, and don’t come bothering me. I don’t care who you can whip, or who you can’t. You are nothing to me.” “I ain’t, hey? Waal, now, maybe you will think different wben 1 give you a slap alongside yer jaw.” “You had better go along about your busi- ness,” Dick advised, sharply. “Not much, My business is right bere fer the Vacca Why, I chaw up a couple like you for reakfast every morning. Come here to fight a ize-fight, did ye? You is a purty lookin’ prize ghter, you be! You couldn’t lick a crippled bullfrog.” ** I¢ don’t matter what I can do or what I can’t do,” Dick snapped. ‘‘ You go away and mind your business. I don’t want anything to do with you. “No, reckon not. Vm goin’ away, but I’m comin’ back agaia to put you through a course of sprouts, so you kin be gettin’ ready “ With that Mr. Henry Hoon ambled away, Colone: Blood came slong just as Hoon depart- ed. “ Does he want to fight you?” the colonel asked, ** Yes, seems to,” Dick replied, ‘Well, if he comes bothering you any more just lay him out.” ** Maybe I can’t do itl” ‘Easily, He’s nothing but a rough-and-tumble fighter. No science ‘at all.” “* But he’s a much bigger man than I am, you know,” “That don't make any difference. If you can do Jack Duffy up you can surely do as much for Hen Hoon, He wants a good thrashing worse than any galoot I know of, and you are just the lad to give it to him.” **T haven’t done Duffy up yet, though,” Dick reminded, ‘I sha’n’t tako much more of this fellow’s lip, however, that’s a sure thing.” “Don’t you. Ihave quitea liking for you, and I don’t want to see a big loafer like Hen Hoon walk over you, or insult you.” With that the colonel moved on. Pete More, Dick’s second, had been taking all this in and, now stepped up to Dick and said: ** Dick, you mustn’t bother with that fellow. We all know you can lay him out, and it ain’t necessary. Let's gatoour room, You'll only spend your strength for nothin’, and maybe hurt your fist, and that will put you in bad trim to . meet Jack.” ‘I’m not bothering with him,” Dick answered, ‘Tf you don’t want him hurt, keep him away from me. If I left the room he’d crow here all night. Don’t you worry about my hurting my- self over him. Pete had no time to say more, for just then Hoon again swaggered up. ** Whoop-ee!” he roared, swinging his hat in ‘“‘Heer I come, sloppin’ over fera Sahel Hillo, thar, ye starcbed-up dude, aire ye ready “Pll give ye jest two seeonds to git up off that chair and square yerself,” Dick did not move. He sat there, apparently unconcerned, Even Hoon was puzzled. Such indiffereuce was beyond his understanding; but he waited no longer, and lurching forward he struck Dick on the side of the face with the flat of bis hand. The blow of course had the effect to bring Dick ¥sto his feet instantly, and with one terrific blow, foe Hoon’s neck, the bully went crashing to the oor. He was not knocked insensible, however, and soon regained his feet. But he might better have remained down, for another blow sent him back to the boards. This time be did not rise. It was a clear case of knock-out in two blows, When he finally did recover sufficiently to re- ain his equilibrium, he hobbled out of the otel and vanished. He had nothing to say. All the braggadocio had been knocked complete- ly out of him. ** You've fixed him, Bristol,” declared Colonel Blood, coming up. ‘He won’t come around lowing any more while you are around,” As soon as the excitement had passed, Dick and Pete More noticed that Jack Duffy, Johnny Webb, and Harry McDaniels, the referee, were holding a consultation in one corner of the room, } y * What is going on over there?” he questioned, “I give it up,” answered Pete, * but I can guess - What is your guess?” *“Tll bet they want to have the “aeons off now, Jack and Johnny no doubt think they’ll Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. a have you at a disadvantage, after your bout with the bully.” ‘* Maybe you are right, Well, I’m ready for them.” Just then Johony Webb crossed over and call- ed Pete to one side. “Well, what is it?” Dick inquirel, as soon as Pete came back. “Tt is just what I guessed,” Pete answered. “They are going to brace the landlord to allow the fight to come off right bere.” ‘Whew! that’s nervy! He’ll never allow it, I'm ready, however, if he does consent.” In a few minutes Old Rosy was ‘ braced,” ‘* What!” he cried, ‘** allow ther fight to come off right here in my house! I couldn’t think of it. It would ruin me. Sorry, gentlemen, but I must refuse, Tell ye what I will do, though, and I was goin’ to mention it to ye in ther morn- in’ if ther weather didn’t prove no better, * ‘* What's that?” was the eager demand, ‘Yer kin hev ther use of my big new barn.” Tnis was sometbing that no one had thought of. It was just the place. It was fully equal, in the matter of floor-space, to the church, Old Rosedale, for want of some better use for his surplus cash, perhaps, had recently built a mammoth barn, though for the life of bim he had no clear idea what he was going to use it for. _Live-stock, at Rosedale Flats, was a scarce article, Old Rosy had only two horses—or three, igen, Ollie Whitney’s, and a cow; ee oe new barn was big enough for forty 1ead, ** That is just the place!” cried Colonel Blood, ** Why didn’t somebody think of it before?” “Will you fight there, to-night, sir?’ asked Jobnny Webb, of Dick. ‘Yes, I’m ready,” Dick answered. That settled it, and the seconds and the referee, together with a score of eager citizens, went out to the barn to look at it and make ready for the battle, CHAPTER VIL THE PRIZE-FIGHT. THE rain had let up a little, but the storm had not broke, The thick, black clouds were scudding across the sky, and it was plain that it was but a lull in the tempest. When the seconds, referee and others started for the barn, two or three men set out for the flats to notify folks there tbat the fight was about to come off, It took but a hint to draw a crowd up to the bluff, The stage had not arrived yet, but that did not stop any one from coming. The fight was considered of more importance than tbe ar- riva) of the ‘“* hearse.” In twenty minutes Old Rosy’s bar-room was crowded, and he did a rushing business for a time. — He found that letting his barn for the fight had been a good investment. In about half an hour everything was ready for the mill to come off. A goodly number of lanterns had been hung up in the barn, the floor had been cleared, and a ring—if by any stretch of the imagination it could called such—had been formed by running a rope around in a zig- og way from post to post. ll being ready, the announcement was made in the bar-room to that effect and the crowd repaired to the bar, Old Rosy was with the rest. Knowing that business was not likely to be at all lively at the bar during the fight, he bad called his better-half to preside over it in his absence. Dick and his opponent went out, accompanied by their seconds, and took their places in their respective corners, The .principals soon threw off all superfluous clothes, and were ready for the fray, fo was soon called, and they toed the mark, The barn was packed full, from the confines of the ring to the furthest extremities, and the crowd was iv a state of breathless excitement. lt was the first time that Rosedale Flats had ever known anything of this sort, and the citizens were prepared to enjoy it to the ut- most, ‘* This jot scoops tber jam,” declared Old Rosy. ‘It makes me feel like I did when I *tended a cireus once when I was a boy.” : There was abroad grin of pleasure upon his grim old visage. ‘ ' For a few seconds the two men faced each other: then Duffy made a feint. Dick did not move, but waited, and soon the real attack was begun, Duffy making a right- band lead for bis opponent’s head. ‘ Out flew Dick’s left, like a flash, but not with great force, and Duffy’s face met it, while his own blow merely grazed Dick’s chin, ; This was a surprise to both Duffy and his backer. The left-hander is always an ugly thing to counter, and it was now evident that with the left hand Dick was especially skilled and strong. ; ‘*He’s caught a Tartar,” observed Colonel Blood to Old Rosy, meaning that Duffy had. ‘“¢ Be looks hike it,” the landlord agreed. The plan that Deadwood Dick meant to work on was this: He was going to get in every hit he could, little ayd big, and avoid getting hit in return if possible. He had no desire tocome out with any marks on his face that would not wasb. Or, Both men sprung back to position quickiy. Duffy angry and Dick calm. The second advance quick)y followed, Tt was a clever left, following a right-hand feint, but it found Dick promptly on hand to re- ceive it. He paid little attention to the feint, but now sent in his right almost as promptly as the feint was made, and Duffy ran bis chin against it with force. But Duffy this time followed up the feint with a blow of the right, in spite of the counter on the chin, and only for the quickest action on the part of Dick he would have got a. stinger. : The blow was a slightly swinging one, how~ ever, and, almost instinctively expecting it, Dick’s left arm went up, the elbow out, and that. point caught Duffy’s arm on the inside with painful effect, Duffy was soon out of range, now very red in the face and becoming too angry to keep his wits about him properly. He saw that he had run up against the worst kind of a snag in. Deadwood Dick, but he soon tried his luck again, And this time, too, he almost got in good work, It was balf luck on Dick’s part that be escaped the well-aimed blow—an ‘“‘ in- side right,”—one with which Dick had never had much acquaintarce, Duffy gave him such an. opening that he could not resist the temptation to send in his left, but instead of Duffy’s stopping. it, or trying to, he let it go by, at the same time drawing back his right. until the fist was at his shouider, Then, just as Dick’s blow was spent, and he was well forward, out flew Duffy’s right fist like a shot from a mortar. ; Dick ducked with the quickness of lightning, athing be seldom did, tor it is dangerous busi- ness, but he did it almost without thought, and it saved him. He was up again, however, be- fore Duffy could think of trying a left-hand upper-cut, ee, e now saw that Duffy was a skilled OP pps nent, and he settled down to serious work, He saw, too, that he must share the aggressive, for now Duffy was beginning to wait for him a little, - Dick suddenly let out his left again. Duffy promptly cross-countered with his right. Dick's. move, however, was only a feint. He did not allow his arm to go the full length, though it did come close to his ceecrset face, but drew it back in time to stop the “cross.” At the same instant he let go his right with a good swing at. Duffy’s jaw. . * Tbe blow was a terrible one, and it sent Duffy staggering back until only for the rope and the crowd behind it he would have landed upon his. back, The crowd gave a cheer, and the excitement was at fever heat. ‘This here is ther most fun I ever had!” cried Old Rosy. ‘‘ Young man,” addressing Dick, “Td be proud ter be yer daddy.” ‘* A few more like that,” declared the colonel, “* will settle the matter.” Duffy was not hurried, but allowed to get his wind, Presently time was called, and they stood up to the ‘* scratch” again, This time Duffy tried something else. By a highly clever ruse he got bis left around Dick’s neck, and no doubt would have punished bim badly about the face had it not beea for the fact. that about the time he was ready to do the punching, he discovered that his right hand was a prisoner in Dick’s grasp. ‘I object to that part of it,” Dick remarked, Making a sudden half-turn, Dick brought his: left arm where he could use it, and the result. was that Duffy got one taste of the medicine he. had intended administering to Dick. Releasin fairly g reach immediately. “T}] give you more of the same kind, too,” he h = dectated. Dick suddenly, Duffy got in one one on his neck, and. was out of ; ;
Page 7
es “TI don’t expect anything else,” Dick re- ' turned. It was the end of the second round. When time was called again, Duffy led with a prompt and quick left-hander right at Dick’s stomach. Dick did not try the old straight- counter with his left, but let go with his right at full force. It looked risky, but it was the clear audacity of the move that made it a suc- cess. The blow landed with awful force on Duffy’s neck, as he was coming toward it, while the one at Dick’s stomach was barely felt, owing to his bending in on striking and the checking that Duffy got. Duffy staggered back again until the friendly rope caught him as before. He looked a little sick of his contract. Dick was as chipper as ever, except that his neck felt sore where Duffy had hit it. Duffy’s very first move had been a mistake. He ought to have known better than to have struck out with his right as he did, for itisabout the last thing any good fighter will do, unless it is in active work when the coast is clear, for if the opponent knows anything at all about box- ing, his left is pretty certain to find the nose of his antagonist. It had been this reminder that had first “ rat- tled” Duffy. But now he had other reasons to bewail his hard luck, for that reminder had been backed up by others even more severe, Duffy had science, plenty of it, but being now ** rattled,” he threw it to the winds and sailed in almost regardless of consequences; and, as a natural result, he got whipped. Round after round was fought, for Duffy was game, but Bristol seemed not to mind the exer- cise now, and he laid any number of light blows just where he pleased, Duffy’s momentum in striking giving all the force that was needed to make them terribly effective. Fiually the waits became longer between rounds, for it was plain to be seen by all that Duffy was being favored in every way, and Dick finally decided to end the battle. With one good blow, the hardest he had dealt, he knocked Duffy to the floor, where he lay senseless and bleeding. Johnny Webb “threw up the sponge,” then, and the fight was over. The crowd yelled and hooted with delight, for they had enjoyed the “fun” erenty, and soon a break was made for the hotel, A little later, when Harry McDaniels sought out Dick to hand over the stakes, Dick said: “Give the money all to Jack. He was game, and has earned it. He forced the matter upon me so that I had to fight him, though I never wanted to. Give it to him, for he needs it more than I do.” And Pete More made it his business to see that Dick’s request was carried out to the letter. CHAPTER VIII. | DICK FREES HIS MIND, AxourT the time the fight was over, the stage arrived. Finding the flats about deserted, and being afraid to stay there over night, anyhow, on ac- count of the rising creek, the driver ascended the bluff to Old wg *s establishment. In building hi ig. barn, Rosy had builded wiser than he knew, That barn would sooner or later draw the stage to his house, without any help from the rising creek, ““Whoah!” the driver sung out, as he stopped in front of the hotel and threw down the rib- bons. ‘ Hello! in there, citizens!” “The stage! the stage!” was the cry, and the crowd poured out. ** Et looks like ye’ve all moved up from ther flats,” the driver saluted, ‘‘and I thought I’d come up, too. Hillo, thar, Old Rosy; any room in yer new barn fur these critters?” * Lots of it, lots of it,” the landlord assured, “ Glad ter hear it, fur I don’t want ter put up down thar on ther flats. Et looks like ther crick is goin’ ter git her back up in earnest. Had a mighty tough timeof it this trip. Did ye think I wasn’t never comin’? Hillo, thar, pas- . Pi nger, stir out of that, fur this is Rosedale # The door of the stage had already opened, and & young man was getting out. © was a fine-looking fellow, about twenty- four years of age, and well clad. He carried a gre, bad arubber coat thrown carelessly over is shoulders, and evidently was a city man. Dick set him down at once for a New Yorker. He had that brisk air which Gothamites in gen- j a. } ; . . ; ' / . . . Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. | 7 The young man entered the bar-room, stepped up to the desk, and asked if he could be given a room, The landlord ‘‘ allowed” that he could, and | shoved out the register. ‘“* Wynd Omar” was the ratber odd name the stranger signed, and he set down his residence as New York. Inquiring about supper he was taken to the | dining-room, where he was speedily served. He had been the only passenger, and as soon as the driver had put outthe mail-bag and some light freight the coach was driven around to the new barn. Bristo!, after brushing up after the fight, was seated in the bar-ro m, drawing solace from his cigar, when a note was brought and handed to | him, It wassuperinscribed in femininechirograpby, and he wondered from wom it could be. Opening it, he read: | in the kitchen! | be imposed upon, “Mr. BrRisTou:— ** Will you oblige me by coming into the parlor for | afew minutes? I would like to speak to you. ‘*BerTHA SHERWOOD.”’ Dick was a greatly surprised man, Among the guests of the hotel to whom he had been introduced was this Bertha Sherwood, She was a tall, beautiful blonde, and perhaps the handsomest woman in the house, er age was twenty-five. Her father was a Carson City stock-broker, and said to be very rich. Bertba was spending the summer at Rosedale Flats, along with her mother. At her first meeting with Dick she had re- solved upon one thing. That one thing was that she would make a conquest of him, None of the other girls, she secretly resolved, should stand a ghost of a chance, for she would monopo- lize his spare time completely. Of course Dick could not know this. He did not see anything in her to admire particularly. She certainly was not to be compared to Ollie Whitney. ‘* Well, this knocks me silly,” Dick muttered. ‘*T wonder what she can want of me? Perhaps I’m going to be lectured for fighting. The way to find out, I suppose, is to go and see,” Thrusting the note into his pocket, he started for the parlor. Just as he was crossing the hall, and turning toward the parlor, be caught sight of Ollie Whitney. Shedid notseehim. She was further down the hall, and was just in the act of peering into the dining-room. Dick moved toward her, and owing to the con- stant noise of the many feet in the bar-room, she did not hear him. As he came near to her he heard her exclaim, in a low tone: 4 Good heavens!'it is he! He must not see With that she turned from the door and flitted down the hall to the door of the kitchen, where she disappeared, - She had not turned toward where Dick was, | ; | and had not seen him. Dick looked into the dining-room to learn whom she had meant by “he,” and saw the young stranger, Wynd Omar, seated at the table. ** What means this?” Dick questioned. ‘‘ Miss Ollie must know this fellow, and I must take a look at the register, to learn who he is, Is she afaid of him? He had better not molest her, or he may hear from me. But, [am keeping Sherwood waiting, and that will never do.” He retraced his steps up the hall and entered the parlor, Three ladies were there, one of whom was Bertha, who was seated in the far end of the room on a sofa. The other two were older women, to whom Dick had not been intro- duced. Miss Sherwood motioned him to approach and take a seat near ter, This he did, and she opened the conversation, ‘“‘Mr, Bristol,” sho said, ‘I suppose you are surprised tiat 1 have sent for you. ‘“Well, yes, Somewhat, Miss Sherwood,” Dick admitted. “T feared that you would consider it bold on my part, but I acted under the adyice of the leading Jady of our set. She considered that we ou about something that you ought to tell : now; warn you, if the term be clearly do not admissible.” “ Warn me?” : ‘*Yes, if the word may be so applied. I sup- pose yon know that our set here during the summer is quite select. It is quite exclusive, I assure you, Well, our set have taken a great fancy to you, for it is readily seen that you are our social equal, and but for one thing we would make you the lion of the season.” *“Tnceed!” Dick exclaimed, all but paralyzed with surprise; ‘‘ and what is that one thing?” “You must cut that girl Whitney, whom we do not recognize as our equal at all. She is beneath us,” Dick felt like giving utterance to a whistle of astonishment. ‘For unmitigated gall,” he exclaimed in thought, ‘‘this surpasses anything that I have run across in a long time.” ‘“We know that you are laboring under a misapprehension of her position here,” the bold beauty rattled on, ‘‘ and we feel it our duty to set you rigbt. She can play and sing a little, and no doubt you have mistaken her for one of us, but she is not. She is poor, unrefined— there is so little refinement about poor people, you know; and really, she is employed here, and has actually been known to help wash the disnes We decided that you should not So, and it is painful to me to say it, if you expect us to recognize you, as we much desire to do, you must break off your ac- | quaintance with her. We must be firm in this matter, as we can never treat her as an equal, We cannot go down into the mud, you know. In the morring, too, we are going to speak to Mr. Rosedale about these low prize-fighters who are here, and who have been fighting in the barn. Think of it!—being in the same house with such! Either they must go, or we will leave ourselves, We will not i another twenty-four hours under the same roof with such low brutes.” oy She paused for breath. “Is that all?’ Dick politely asked. ‘“ Did your set commission you to wait upon me in this matter?” ‘* Yes, Mr. Bristol, you see—” **Pardon me, Miss Sherwood, but, whois the leading lady—the supreme head—of this precious set of yours?” Miss Sherwood paled slightly. **Tt is Mrs, Maltravers,” she made answer, **Humph! and bow many are there of this select and exclusive circle?” ' ‘*We number about a score, and all are wealthy and of the best families,” ** Well, Miss Sherwood, kindly carry my com- pliments to your .set, and request them not to trouble their heads further about me, I severed connection with them to-night when I left the common table. I choose my company to my ovn liking, and am thoroughly Ccemocratic in my ideas, I consider one person as good as an- other, so long as the person is respectable and honest, Wealth has nothing to do with it in my estimation.” “ Pshaw! you cannot mean it,” “Certainly I do,” ‘But there is so little refinement about poor persons, and—” **So you observed before, and I have found that there is a good deal too much of refine- ment, so-called, about some rich persons I have met. ** You are provoking!” ‘‘Tam candid. For instance, Miss Whitney is far more refined than some of the members of this chosen dozen of yours. You say that she works. What of that? Is work any disgrace? I fail to see it in that light. Work must be done by somebody, and it is no shame to the person who does it, In the case of Miss Whitney, I admire her all the more for it. I bave been laboring: under no misapprehension whatever about her position here. or did I mistake her he ane of eek little few— Oh! no, ‘s = ce ‘ing im 1 upon in any way whatever, assure you. I never allow myself to be imposed upon. ‘*So, as I said before, carry my compliments to your set, Tell them that 1 am sole manager of my own business, and do not require any of their advice or assistance. Tell them that {had not the slightest idea of entering society this season, and much less of posing asa lion. Tell them—” f ‘“* You are positively insulting, sir|” the young woman cried, pale to the lips. “Not at all,” Dick declared, ‘ I am simply talking a little plainly, as this matter seems to require.” ** You will be sorry for this,” “I guess not. But hear me out, Tell your precious set that I propose to seek my own asso- ciates, and that Miss Whitney is one of them, so long as she does not object. It is true that she does not dress in silk or satin, or sporta hun- dred-dollar fan, but she isa lady, and I won't hear ber name as . Thank them for their interest in my behalf, and finally, tell them that i aS se
Page 8
Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. Iam only a low brute of a prize-fighter, any- to the hotel, where he delivered the borrowed how. I am one of the men who fought in the | umbrella in good condition to its owner. barn a little while ago.” With a polite bow, then, Dick turned and left the room, leaving ber sitting there, white with rage and mortification. CHAPTER IX. DICK HAS A CALLER, THE man of many adventures overslept him- self next morning, and it was past the middle of | the forenoon when he awoke, ‘* Well, I am a fine fellow, to sleep as late as this!” he muttered. ‘“‘It must have been the exercise last night that did the business for me,” | | / Breakfast was long since over when he went | down-stairs, and the fighters had gone away in | the early stage. Pete More had told the land- | lord not to awaken Dick, but to let him sleep as | late as he would. It was still raining, and there was no sign of its ceasing. Knowing that there was a restaurant down on the flats, and not wanting to put Aunty Rosedale to any trouble, Dick decided to go down there for his breakfast. So he borrowed an umbrella from Old Rosy. ‘* Be keerful of it, me boy,” cautioned the old man. ‘It’s an old-timer, and has seen a power- ful lot of service. Besides that, I don’t know but it’s the Lew A one in ther town.” “Oh! Pll take good care of it,” Dick prom- ised, He left the hotel and descended into the gulch, Here all was wet and mud. Poolsof water stood around over the flats and in the street. The creek, which was ordinarily but a little brook, was now a raging torreut. Its angry waters wore almost up to the stringers of the rustic bridge, and if the creek continued to rise there was danger that the bridge would be swept away. He found the restaurant open for business, however, and entering, seated himself at one of the tables and ordered a breakfast, While he waited he picked up a newspaper that lay near at hand, and ran his eyes over its columns. * It proved to be the Rosedale Bi-Weekly Register, about as drowsy a local sheet as can be imagined. It had “patent outsides,” and was given up chiefly to patent medicine adver- tisements inside, It was dated the day previous, and its local column had something that caught Dick’s eye. The article read as follows: “WHO ARE THEY? ‘The arrival of the alleged prize-fighters has been the cause of much speculation among our citizens as to what they are here for, since they seem to be making no moves toward a fight. Some one has suggested that perhaps they are here in search of the Whitney fortune. Should this prove to ve the case, itisthe plain duty of our cirizens to rise in arms and drive the fellows from the camp. ‘That fortune belongs here, and if these feliows find it, ic is not ery | toat its rightful owner will ever see a penny of it. Furthermore, the Register, with its usual enterprise, has discovered that the ring- leader of this gang, Deadwood Dick, was once a road-agent, and s bears an unenviabie r puta- tion.” ‘* That’s a good one, anyhow,” thought Dick. ‘*T guess | can stand it, if the rest of the family ean, however.” Another item right under this provoked a smile, It ran thus: “ Rey. Calvin Corker will preach his farewell ser- mon on Sunday; the subject—‘ Man’s eT ae to Man.’ Cal says that Rosedale is no good. e has been with us three Sundays, and says he has ex- pended fifty dollars’ worth of breath, while the con- tribution-box rattled thirteen cents and a quid of tobacco. As soon as Ca] moseys, Sal Slade from Carson will move in and start a dance-hall. Salisa rus‘ler, and tickets for the opening are selling like hot cakes.” O-ter items followed in order, and the column eu.led with an apology from the editor. it was to this effect: “This number of the Register should have been published yesterday, but the roof leaked too bad and it took us all the forenoon to find the hole and plug it up. The next edition will come out on turday, if that plug don’t start.” These items were about the sum total of the paper’s news, and as Dick had no taste for ad- vertisements he laid it down, ‘* So, ’m.a suspect, am I?’ he mused. “ Well, let them think whatever they please. I have taken a notion to search for that Whitney fortune, and I’m going to do it. Too bad the paper didn’t come out yesterday; it would have saved me that interview with Miss Sherwood, perhaps,” After finishing his breakfast Dick went back * “Waal, this kinder looks as if this spell of weather means ter stick to us,” Old Rosy ob- served, “Tt certainly does,” Dick agreed, ‘*Hev you seen the piece in ther paper about you and the other fellers?” the landlord asked. ‘** Yes, I’ve seen it.” ‘* What d’ye think of it?” “T didn’t pay much attention to it, The chances are, however, that I may have occasion to call on that editor and head for him,” ** Perfectly propery: exclaimed Old Rosy, slapping his kuee. ‘* You stay here awhile longer, and I reckon as how some o’ these fresh ducks that swim in their own gall will learn to let you alone.” ** Well, perhaps.” **You’ll excuse my askin’, but is there any truth in this report against you?” “*That I was a road-agent?”’ “ee Yes,” “That was Deadwood Dick, the original, but he wasn’t half as black as he is painted,” “Ob! Isee, Then you are—’ “*T am Deadwood Dick, Junior,” The day was a dreary one, The rain came down in sheets, and there seemed to be no let up toi Everybody about the hotel had the mopes, or | blues, and enough ill things could not be invent- ed to say of the weather, Much to his disappointment, Dick saw noth- ing of Ollie Whitney. What could the matter be? Was she ill? Had she left the hotel? Dick finally put the question to Old Rosy. **Oh! she’s around the place somewheres,” was the reply. ‘‘ D’ye want her?” **Oh, no, only I didn’t see her around and thought she might be ill.” ‘*You’re a good one,” laughed the old man, * but you can’t fool me.” ‘* What do you mean?” ‘Why, you’re stuck on ther gal. Can’t blame ye, though, fur Ollie is a durn fine gal,” and, with a chuckle, the old fellow went off avout his business, Dick had a suspicion which he believed was not far from the truth. He believed that Ollie _was keeping out of sight of the stranger, Wynd Omar. Why she should want to do this, be could not guess. From what he had seen in the hall on the previous night, however, be knew that she had recognized the man, and it had struck him at the time that sho feared him. Wynd Omar was around, and once Dick saw him in earnest conversation with Colonel Blood. ‘‘TPIl be blowed if I like the colonel any too well,” Dick muttered to himself. ‘‘ He isa fine- looker, and is well liked, it seems, but he’s not to my taste,” Shortly after noon the rain slacked upa little, although it did not cease entirely. Having heartily tired of the hotel, Dick con- cluded to visit his house on the bluff and see what it locked like by dayligbt. With that thought, too, came the sudden re- collection that he had not yet kept his word with Miss Whitney and released the bear, Old Bob, He decided to go at once, before it could slip his mind again. Once more he borrowed the umbrella and set out. * He passed down the slope to the flats, and on to the bridge that spanned the creek, The water was now up to the striagers of the bridge, causing it to tremble, and it looked as though there was danger that it would be swept away. “*T don’t know whether it will hold me up or not,” Dick muttered, ‘‘ but Pll venture,” It held him, and he succeeded in getting over all right. Then be made for the house on the bluff as fast as he could, for the rain now began to come down in torrents again, When he reached the house he found that the big cinnamon which he had captured two nights before had got rid of his bonds and taken his leave. “Dm glad of it,” Dick said, “ and I hope he'll kindly forget to come back again. He might take a notion to embrace me,” An examination of the rope, however, showed that the bear had not got away without help. His bonds had been cut with a keen knife, ‘“* Bruin must bave a friend hereabouts,” Dick reflected. ‘‘ Maybe it’s Old Whit’s ghost.” Inside, the bouse was as quiet as on bis first visit, The parlor room bad evidently never heen used, except lately by Old Bob, the bear, Dust, mud, and broken bottles covered the floor, and cobwebs curtained the windows, oor > ib. Dick tried to read, but that proved a failure. There were no closets—nothing but th? bare room, ‘*No place to hide money here, I reckon,” Dick decided. He passed into the next room, This was al- most a duplicate of the first, but it had one closet, There was nothing in tbat, however, but an old clay pipe that had probably given Old Whit many hours’ solace. To the third room, or kitchen, Dick gave more attention. There was evidence that fire had recently been in the stove, and a meal cooked there. Plenty of fuel was at hand, and the re- mains of the meal were scattered around, ‘* Rather substantial ghosts that haunt this house, I venture to say,” Dick reflected. Ha looked around the room sg but dis- covered nothing to interest him, e sounded the walls in places, but they seemed solid enough, There was a lamp on a little shelf in the kitchen, nearly full of oil, and lighting this, Dick proceeded to make another examination of the cellar. He had no hope that be would find anything to reward him for a search, and he was not disappointed, The cellar bad no secrets to disclose, Tt had been so thoroughly dug up by former searchers that Dick made no attempt to try his hand, so he returned to the floor above. Putting out the light and returning the lamp to the shelf, he went up-stairs, Here he looked around thorougbly, but with- out making any disceveries. Not a clew was to be found. One of the beds looked as though it had been slept in lately, and the clothes were anything but clean, The clothes of the other bed looked betiter in this respect, “These will come in handy,” Dick mused, ‘tin case [ have to stay here all night, as I cer- tainly will have to do if that bridge gives way.” He returned to the kitchen, and feeling chilly, P90 up a fire and sat down by the stove to re- flect. He had been seated but a few minutes when he heard steps in the front rootn, and a man soon made his appearance in the door of the kitchen, It was the stranger, Wynd Omar! CHAPTER X. A REMARKABLE STORY, THE young stranger was clad ip his rubber coat, and had the advantage of the weather, ‘IT bope I don’t intrude,” he observed, smil- ing. ** Not atall,” Dick responded, heartily. ‘* Come right in,” he invited, and he made room before the fire, and swung a chair into place for his caller. The young man accepted the invitation, first throwing off his rubber coat, ‘*T saw you cross the bridge and come up here,” he said, ‘and having learned that you have rented this house, I have followed you to have a little talk with you.” ‘Yes, this is my castle,” Dick owned, “ and I am at your service.” ‘“T have been talking with Colonel Blood about the Mr. Whitney who used to live here, but as I do not like the man any too well I did not take him into my confidence to any extent, I mean to deal differently with you.” ** We seem to have both formed about the same opinion of the colonel, then,” said Dick, “T don’t fancy him any too well.” ‘*] am glad to hear you say that. I am sure T shall make no mistake in taking you into my confidence,” “IT do not invite you to do s0, sir,” Dick re- minded. ““T know it,” was the response, “‘ but I fancy I know a gentleman when I meet one, and I am sure you will not abuse my confidence. Let us es acquainted. Iam Wynd Omar, of New ork, “T am Dick Bristol, otherwise ‘Deadwood Dick,’ of the world at large,” ‘You claim a broad citizenship, sir.” ‘Tt is about as near as 1 can get at it, never- theless. That isn’t so, either, for I am an American to the backbone.” eS . “Ts it going too far to inquire what your business is, sir?” ‘‘Not a bit,” was Dick’s answer; “‘you are welcome to the infermation, I am a gort of independent detective.” ‘‘ Hal! a detective, eb? 1 am glad to hear you say that, No doubt you can give me some solid advice.” ‘You are welcome to the best I can offer.” “Good enough. And now for my story.
Page 9
eee Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. 9 am the son and only child of my father by his first marriage. Iam twenty-four years of age. Our family is one of the oldest in New York. We have been wealthy, but of late years our fortune has gradually decreased, owing to busi- ness failures and bad investments. But, enough of that, When I was ten my father married his second wife, and by her bas bad several chil- dren. Of them nothing neeas besaid, My step- mother’s maiden name, if that has anything to do with the matter, was Honora Wilford. Of her family I know little or nothing, and have no interest in that direction, anyhow, “She, my step-mother, was about twenty years old at the time of her marriage. She was retty, decidedly pretty, and every inch a lady. Piiked her at first sight, and I love and respect her now. Brother and sister could not have got along half so well together as my step-mother and [ have, and in my opinion a step-mother is not a bad thing to have, Bristol, ‘But [am not coming to the point very fast, I see. I must tell you what has brought me here. Two years agol was located for a time at Newburg, New York. While there I made the acquaintance of a pretty young lady who was attending a school in that town. Her name was Fay Fenton. She was young, not over six- teen I should say, and I loved her. I love her now, and could not tear her memory from my heart if I would. I went away from the place for a few months, and when [ returned she had gone from the school, and that was the last I ever expected to see of her. I tried to get some information at the school, but as I could not show that I was a relative of the girl’s, or any clear reason why [ should know of her where- abouts, [ could learn nothing. I never expected to see her again, and perbaps never shall, ‘* But, here comes in the wonderful part of my story. Some months ago my step-mother began to have a wonderful dream. Isay began to have it, because the same dream was repeated night after night for weeks, “She dreamed that she and I together were traveling inthe West. Westopped ata place called Rosedale Flats, Here, according to the dream, !] meta beautiful girl with whom I fell immediately in love. In the same hour, as it seemed in the dream, I married this girl, and she turned out to be immensely rich, although I had considered her to be very poor, “The time my step-mother had this dream, she told me about it next morning as something of a joke, On the next morning, however, she told me, with much surprise, that she had had the same dream again. On the third morning it was repeated with profound amazement, But, it did not end there, repeated night after night, until it had made an impression upon me that I could not shake off, “Now I had never had any faith in dreams, but this struck me as being something entirely out of the ordinary. I had much less faith in seers, oracles, fortune-tellers, or whatever you please to call them; but my step-mother was urging me to go and see a certain Madame Tiresias. This woman has considerable fame among those who believe in such nonsense—as I then looked upon it/and claimed to possess the gift of Zeus. Whether this gift will make her wise enough not todrink from the well of Til- phossa, remains to be seen, “Finally I went to see her, and I tell you candidly, Bristol, it was one of the strangest experiences of my hfe, I was about to speak to her, when I entered her presence, but she mo- ' tioned me to silence and would not hear a word from me. **¢ Unbeliever,’ she spoke, ‘I know thee and what bringsthee here. It is no false dream, but a true vision. Goto that place of the West, ingire there for a Jason Whitney, and he will bestow upon thee a brideand a fortune. Ay, more still I do for thee. That thou mayest know thy bride at sight, step forward and look _ into this crystal basin, “There was ‘a glass bow] standing upon a table near where she sat, and she motioned me tostep forward and look into it. I did, and ou may judge of my feelings, when, on looking to the water contained in the bowl, I beheld there the fair face of Fay Fenton !” Daadwood Dick was deeply interested in the erry pas as the young man stopped, he ex- med; “Wonderful!” “ The vision gradually faded,” the young man wenton, “aud as it disappeared, ahd I was about to speak, the woman again motioned me to silence, saying: _ ‘\‘Speak not, unbeliever, but obey me, Thou hast seen her face; go, seek her, and make her thy bride.’ It was. et "3 “With that she dismissed me, and a servant led me out. To him I paid ber fee, and left the house, **Now, what do you make of it? I had never seen this woman before. She did not allow me to speak one word. But, see what she told me, ey see the vision! How do you account for i ““T don’t account for it all,” Dick answered. **Tt is remarkable, to say the least about it,” “*T should say so! el’, I needed no urging to set out to find this place after that, for the vision I had seen of the girl I love settled my mind upon that point. Of course I made no mention of this part of it toany one. Still, I had little confidence in the quest until I arrived here and learned that such a person as Jason Whitney had actually lived here, Of course his history, and the story «f his buried fortune, are familiar to you, so I need not go any further.” “This is a remerkable matter,” declared Dick, reflectively, ‘* How much of it have you disclosed to Colonel Blood?” ‘* Nothing of it, I have merely questioned him about Whitney.” a you have learned that he had a daugh- ter ** Yes; and I have asked to see her, but so far have been put off. L’erhaps I shall get an inter- view with her this afternoon or evening.” ‘* Perhaps—but I doubt it.” **' You doubt it!” the young man cried; “* why do you doubt it?” Dick had let the words fal! thoughtlessly. ““Oh, she is a shy thing,” he turned it off, **and you will bave to bide your time.” He had been thinkia heard from her lips. What had been their meaning? Was she the Fay Fenton this young man had known? He had little doubt of it, for she had told him that she bad been at school at Newburg. ‘1 thought you must have some deeper reason for doubting,” Omar observed, ** by the way you spoke,’ Now, though we ere strangers, what would you advise me to do in this matter?” “Pll give it to you, straight,” Dick declared, heartily. ‘‘Goonand getan interview with Miss Whitney, by all means. [am interested in the affair more than ever, now. I bad already re- solved to try my hand at fiading the lost for- tune.’ ns And will you lend me your help in the mat- ter?” “se I will,” “Thank you, sir. I Jike you, and I know that we can be friends; Here is my hand.” ‘** And here is mine,” cried Dick, They shook hands, and so the compact was sealed. ¢ ‘*Now,” spoke Dick, ‘‘ before we/go any fur- ther let me give you a little word of warning. You had better not let your good-fellowsbip for me-be known. Iam under the ban, to a degree, in this town, and am likely to get into trouble. I don’t want you to get into the same fix.” ‘* What kind of trouble?’ Omar asked. ‘** Well, it appears that there is a clique here who have made it their business to find this lost fortune, as near as Ican get at it, and who mean to bar the way against all outsiders. I have made it no secret that [ intend to search for it, and I may be called to account by them, The are called the Social Six, I believe. I think have marked at least three of them.” “Thank you for the warning, Bristol, but you will find that I am willing to take my share o the danger,” ; “That is all right, but there is‘no need of it at resent,” ‘* Then shall I not recognize you at the hotel?” ‘Ob! you can do that, but we wil] not hold any long talks in the presence of others.” “Very well, My errand over here was to find you alone, and to request the privilege of looking about a little for a clew to this old man’s gol'!. It seems his daughter is poor, but that this lost fortune would make her rich.” “Right you are. That is, if al] accounts of it are rosy believed. Do you think, though, that she will turn out to be the girl you are seeking— your Fay Fenton? This young lady’s name is Ollie Whitney.” “ This is one point over which I was puzzled, Nothing but a sight of her will answer the ques- tion, I must see her, and will, I must go back to the hotel. Were you going over soon?” ‘* No,” Dick answered, “‘I am not going right away. I meant to spend an hour or two here, at least.” “Then I will be off. I must see that lady.” They shook hands again, and after some fur- ther remarks, parted, Wynd Omar leaving the house and starting down the bluff to the fla of the words he had CHAPTER Xf, THE SOCIAL SIX STRIKES, Dick replenished the fire and fell into a brown study. The story to which be had just listened was such a remarkable one that, now being again alone, he was almost ready to believe that he had been dreaminz; but the chair that his visitor had occupied, and the marks of his muddy boots on the floor, were proof enough that it had been no dream, So taken up with his thoughts did Dick be- come that the time slipped away unheeded, and ere he was aware of it bis fire was out and it was growing dark, ** Hello!” he exclaimed, springing up, ‘ this won’t do; [ must get back to the hotel.” On going to thedoor, however, be changed his mind. The rain was now falling in almost blinding sheets. ** Tl] be blowed if P’ll wade over there in such a rain,” he muttered. ‘ Dll go witbout my sup- per first. Here’s fire, and shelter, too, and I'll stay here,” He went back to the kitchen, lighted the lamp, and made up a new fire. That done, he went up-stairs and brought down some of the bed-clothes and proceeded to make up a bunk on some cbuirs. When he had done, finally, he the fire again. While sitting there, his attention was drawn toa peculiar little spot on the woodwork at the side of the cupboard, ** Shoot me if that dcn’t look like a tiny key- hole,” he muttered, ‘‘and I’m going to investi- gate, Maybe the secret is right there!” Getting up and taking up the lamp, he looked closely, and a keyhole it was, true enough, He discovered more, The keyhole was in a small upright drawer that was built into the side of the cupboard. These discoveries so thrilled Dick for a mo- ment that he did nothing but stand and look at them, Sut be soon roused to action. ‘* Eureka!” he exclaimed. ‘*This may con- tain the treasure!” Putting down the lamp on the table, be tried to open the drawer, but, as he might have known, it was locked, This fact did not balk him long. Finding an ax on the wall, he attacked the face of the drawer vigorously, and in a little time the front of it came off and its contents were ex- posed. The opening thus made was about three inches wide, about a foot anda half high, and seemed to extend back the depth of the cupboard. The first thing seen was a small Bible, with a long envelope in it that protruded several inches at one end, When this was taken out some small, nickel-plated tools were seen, tools such as a draughtsman might use. Dick soon transferred the contents of the drawer to the table, and sat down to investigate his find. ‘“‘Among other things was a half-sheet of paper, £ one corner of which was securely pasted a small compass. On the paper was a rude map, or sketch and map combined, and at the bottom was what was evidently the key to the chart, as follows: #2 Deg. N, of N. W.*” Laying that aside for the present, Dick took up the Bible to learn what was in the envelope it contained, On opening the book, he found that the envelope had served as a book-mark. The pages it parted were those given up for use asa family record. And such a record was here found, It was as follows: ‘Jason Whitney, born Dec 13, 1834, and Deborah Wilford, born Mar. 21, 1886. we1e married June 19, 1860, “Olivia Whitney, born May 23, 1871, “Deborah Whitney, died Nov. 2, 1878,” “The records my be valuable,” thought Dick, ‘and I'll just tear the leaves out and. pocket them,” He suited action to the words, folding the ex- tracted pages and putting them into an inner pocket, Next he opened the envelope. This contained a legal paper that proved to be Jason Whitney’s wil!, It was drawn up in cor- rect form, but it was short and right to the point. lt was set forth in these words: “J, Jason Whitney, in soundness of mind, do make and declare this to be my last will and testa- ment. I bequeath all my property, real and per- sonal, wheresoever the rey eae be, to my dsugh- ter, Olivia Whitney, unconditionally, to have and to hold unto my said daughter, and her heirs and sat down by
Page 10
be > tS he . a tig 10 assigns forever. AndI appoint the finder or finders of this my last will and testament, whoever he, she, or they may be, to be executor, executrix, or exe- cutors. of the same; trusting to the common hon- esty of man to man fora faithful discharge of the duty. JasON WHITNEY. “ee & aay: MOR : Witnesses.”’ On reading this, Deadwood Dick gave utter- ance to a whistle. “This is more than I expected to find,” he exclaimed. ‘‘So I am execntor of this will, by right of discovery, am I? Allright, Whit, Pll do the square thing by you, and Miss Ollie shall have everything. It seems this will is uncon- ditional, too, though from what Ollie said, I thought it would be found otherwise. No mat- ter; Pll see that she gets her rights.” Folding the paper as he had found it, he re- turned it to its envelope, and put it carefully away in his pocket along with the pages from the Bible, This done, he turned his attention again to the crade chart that had the compass attached to it, For some time he sat studying it in silence, while without the furious storm still raged, fairly shaking the house at times, and causing it to rattle and tremble continuously. So deep in thought was he that he did not hear the front, door open, nor light steps cross the floor toward the room where he was. But, then, these sounds were hardly to be heard above the other noise. “Tt isthe key at last!” Dick finally exclaimed, joyously. ‘‘ The treasure is buried two degrees north of northwest from this house, But, the question is, how far away?” **Tt can’t be far away,” said a voice, in a quiet tone. Like a flash Dick wheeled around, and a re- volver was ready in his hand, He had had no idea but that he was alone, Instead, he found a masked man standing at his elbow, whom, in spite of the mask, he in- stantly recognized as Colonel Blood. **So, you have found it, have you?” the man observed, significantly, ** Not yet, but I expect to,” Dick replied. **T don’t reckon you will.” ** Why not?’ “ Because it is for me to find it, not you. me that paper.” Dick laughed, and quietly shoved the map and compass into his pocket, ** You won’t get it,” he declared. ‘* Who are you, anyhow?” “T am one of a band known as the Social Six. We do not mean to allow any interloper to come here and carry off this fortune, Hand that pa- per over,” The man was standing in the door, and no weapon was in his hands, **T thought you were one of that band of out- laws, Colonel Blood,” Dick said. ‘‘Asto hand- ing the paper over, you must take me for a ten- derfoot. Idon’tseeit, I can take care of it, I guess, If you get it you will have to take it.” ‘You know me!” the colonel exdlaimed, snatching off his mask, ‘‘ Well, no matter, since this game is to be ended here ang now. Once more, will you hand over that paper?” A slight sound. at the window caused Dick to turn his eyes in that direction, and what was his surprise to see two revolvers leveled at his heart, He was in a critical position, but—he was Deadwood Dick! ‘*T see you have got me covered,” he observed, mly,. M4: You bet!” cried the colonel. ‘* Now perhaps you will listen tome, A single move on your t to lift your weapon will send you into the ag Unknown, and over that paper, or e Dick’s revolver barked an answer, and the room was plunged in almost total darkness, An instant later two bullets crushed though the window, but they buried themselves harmlessly in the wall. Dick was out of the way. ~ No sooner had he fired and put out the light than he sprung forward and sent Colonel Blood to the floor with a solid left-hander on the neck, and dashed out into the parlor-room of the Give ouse, “ve plugged ther cuss, colonel,” cried a voice from without, and in a nioment a pair of heavy boots thundered over the floor of the room Dic was in and made for the kitchen, ** Look out! Don’t shoot this way!” cried the frightened colonel, as he was heard scrambling _ to his feet. “Where is he?’ demanded the other, and Dick recognized the voice of Ben Hoon. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. * ; e’s gone. He knocked me flat and dusted out,’ ‘* Ther doost yer say!” **Tt’sa fact, Hen, He’sstruck out for the flats. We'll have to go back. We'll get more help, though, and have him anyhow.” Dick might have dropped both of them, even in the dark, but be preferred not todoso. That was not his style. 4 ** Does yer think he’s got ther clew?” *¢ Sure of it!” cried the colonel. ‘‘ Didn’t we see him looking at it when we got here and looked in at the window? You bet he’s got it! But, it will cost him his life. He shall never follow up the trail.” * Right you is.” ‘* We'll see about that,” thought Dick, “I’m as good as a cart-load of dead men, my hearties and you'll find it out so, too, if you fool aroun in this direction; you bet you will.” ‘* Well, let’s be off,” exclaimed the colonel, ** for we must find him and nip his game right in the bud.” ‘* Ym with-yer,” The two passed through the front room and on out into the storm, and Dick heard them run- ning down the slope to the bridge. As there was a big moon, objects with- out could be seen, in spite of the rain, and oe could be sure of the direction the pair took, ** Well, now the battle has begun,” Dick mut- tered, ‘‘ and it seems it means war to the knife, Let ’er rip. I suppose there will be lively times up here directly, for I intend to hold the fort for a while at least. I must prepare for them,” His situation was rather a peculiar one, On one hand he was menaced by a mob of desperate ruffians, who were bent upon taking his life. On the other it was utterly impossible for bim to search for the fortune in the darkness and storm, or to escape into the mountains, Great torrents of water were pouring down the moun- tain trails, making them all but impassable. Down below the flats were fast becoming sub- merged, Suddenly a happy idea struck Dick, and he wondered why be had not thought of it before, ** By Jove! I'll do it!” be cried. ‘But, no time i3 to be lost,” CHAPTER XII, OLD GRIZ THE CLOUD SCOUT, His idea was to cut away the little bridge that spanned the creek, That would cutoff all communication with the flats, and he would be: safe from attack for the present, and perhaps for a day or two. He wasted no timein thinking about it, but prepared for business immediately. anging to the wall in the kitchen was the ax: this he at once secured and discarding most of his clothes, in order to keep them dry, left the house and hastened down the bluff. It was raining its hardest, but he minded it not. Could he but cut away the bridge, he would thus baffle the enemy and be insured against attack for the night, When he reached the flats be found that the water was several inches deep, and that it was running completely over the bridge, causing it fo creak and groan dismally, Dick did not wait upon ceremony, but began an attack upon the stringers immediately, The bridge was supported by two of these stringers, one at each side, and they were long, oak poles, about four inches in diameter, When two or three big chips had been taken out of one of the poles, it gave way, hanging only by asplinter. Dick soon found the other pole and gave that two or three good blows, when, with a sudden, spasmodic lurch, the bridge broke loose and was swept away down the stream, Eureka! Victory was Dick’s for the present. Barely had the bridge disappeared when Dick beheld Colonel Blood, with several men at his back, running through the water toward where it had been, The sound of the ax had attracted their atten- tion, and the colonel had guessed tho truth im- mediately. ‘‘Hurrah!” shouted Dick, ‘Come on and catch me, you rascals! You'll have to swim for it if you do,” Seizing the ax, he hastened up the bluff to escape any stray bullets, leaving his enemies to swear and rage over their defeat. By the time Dick reached the house, drenched to the skin, the gang under Colonel Blood had reached the bank of the creek, and had found that their further advance was checked. There was positively no way for them to get across, No boat or raft could be managed in that fu- \ rious current, even had they had one, and to swim over was out of the question. o sane man would attempt it The yells of the gang, when they first discov- ered their defeat, were something fearful, and the men shook their fists at the Whitney house and swore vengeance upon it and Deadwood Dick together. Finally they quieted down and a consultation was held. The result was that the whole party started | back for the heart of the camp, and made for | the first saloon they came to. ; As the danger was over for the time being, Deadwood Dick replenished the fire in the kitchen, and proceeded to dry the scant clothing he bad worn out into the storm, And while he waited for the fire to do its work in this respect, he curled himself up in the bunk he had made on the chairs and en- joyed a smoke, And as he smoked he cogitated. . “The nearest place to get across the creek now is sixteen miles below,” he mused. ‘ They call it Scott’s Ferry, I believe. Connection is made there with the railroad, The creek broadens there, but numerous tributaries run- ning into it above, it is not likely to be any safer there than here. ‘*T hardly think Blood and his gang will make for that point, but they may, Or, there may be a nearer point that I know nothing about. As for me, I don’t see that there is anything else for me to do than to stay where [am. If I only had some grub here, I opine I should find it right comfortable,” ; Dick had not relighted the lamp, principally owing to the fact that his shot had demolished the chimney, but the stove, with its doors open, gave out all the light he needed. He had made his bed near the fire, and as he lay there a sense of drowsiness began to steal over him, “This won't do,” he muttered. ‘I must rouse a, are dress before I do any sleeping. I mustn’t be caught with my boots and belt off.” He got up, and bis clothes being dry, dressed. Then he went to the front door and looked out, taking a survey of the valley as well as he could in the very dim, light, A change had taken place. The entire flats was submerged, as he could see by the lights of the hotel on the opposite bluff, which reflected down upon the water. Not a light was to be seen in the gulch, and some of the houses seemed. to have been swept away, The flood had come now, and the dwellers on the flats had fled to the bluff, to get such shelter and accommodation as they could find there, Old Rosy had taken as many into the botel as could pay, or properly as many paying ones as he could take in, and then had thrown his big barn open to the rest of the crowd, That barn came in handy now, and the entire ulace of the flats was finally sheltered, while did Rosy’s resy countenance glowed with satisfaction that he was able to be such a bene- factor to the public at large. | After a few minutes’ survey of the dark scene, f Dick returned to the kitchen and lay down. Drowsiness soon came over him again, and ere long. he slept, ; hen he awoke it was with a start, and he sat bolt upright and looked around, Something had awakened him, but what was it? At first he thought that he was alone, but soon he discovered that he was not, for comforta- bly seated in the corner on the opposite side of the dying fire was the huge cinnamon bear, Old Bob, taking his ease. And Mr. Bruin had evidently been takin something else, too; something more convivial. The floor around him was scattered with broken bottles, and in a baskét at his side, where he could help himself at will, were several full fs) een ene nes. The bear had evidently been off on a foraging expedition, and knew the proper place to visit. For several minutes Dick stared ut the bear, not knowing what move to make. Bruin re- turned the stare with interest, but made no hostile demonstrations. “He don’t appear to be very ugly just now,” Dick muttered, ‘Hard to tell what he might do, though, A bear and a lawyer are never to trusted,” 3 After meditating a few minutes, Dick con- cluded that he had better make a move to get upon his feet, It was no go, however. BRE Bie The minute Dick essayed to rise, Bruin rose, witha growl, “Oh! fight is your racket, is it!” Dick ex- claimed,
Page 11
— ~ - - lived here, and But it wasn’t. Old Bob advanced and extend- ed a paw in a friendly manner, Dick shook the proffered paw, and they were friends, 4 ‘Glad to make your acqaintance, Bob,” Dick observed, ‘‘I guess the recommend Miss Ollie gave you was straight, You seem like a good sort of fellow, Didn’t bring anything along to eat, did you? I see you are well fixed for drink, Those bottles look suspiciously like Old Rosy’s stock. I guess you’ve been paying him a visit. If I were at the hotel I wouldn’t have any appe- tite at all, very likely, but now I feel as though I could go anything from a grizzly to a coyote. If you had showed fight, Bob, 1 might have enjoyed a steak off you. Unless you fill the larder, old fellow, am afraid I'll go hungry awhile,” , Dick now heard a footstep outside, and draw- ing a revolver, he faced the door, A man svon presented himself there, a burly six-foot mountaineer, with straggling red hair and a genial, good-natured countenance, ‘“‘ Hillo, here!” he exclaimed, pleasantly enough, ‘ What is ther diffikilty, be gosh? No *easion ter shoot at me, stranger, so put up yer weepin. Who aire you, anyhow, stranger?” * f am a refugee, at present,” Dick responded, ** Rented this house yesterduy, and the hard rain forced me to occupy it to-night?’ “Oh! this is your castle, then, be it? Sich bein’ ther case, stranger, [ won’t intrude onless this fire, and I reckon you are one.” ‘“'Phat’s wh: *‘That’s a good-zoundin’ name, be gosh. Where d’7e live?” ‘* Wherever night and day overtake me.” “Oh! you’re a nomad, like meself, eh? Glad ter meet ye, darned if I ain't, fer I like ye a’ready, and it ain’t often, that I run across a feller that I take to at sight. D’ye ever take a nip, pard?” é Yes, occasionally.” / ‘Wal, here, help yerself,” taking a bottle from the bear’s basket and handing it over to Dick. ‘Help yourself to as much as ye want. fur there’s more whar this came from. Old Bob here is a ’commodatin’ cuss in this respeck, Never let’s a feller f° dry, if he has more’n he kin down hisself, By ther way, was it you that tied him up the other night?” “Yes: that was before I had learned that he is tame.” “That's all right. I found him in that fix last night when I dropped iu here tosleep, I set him free.” . *‘ Then it was you that had a fire here?” ‘*Yas, Yer see I come and go, and have got sev’ral stoppin’-places up and _ down ther range, I used ter know old man Whitney, when he ut up with him occasionally. Sence he died r have dropped in jest ther same.” _ «* What is your name?” Dick asked. for I meant ter exchange on sight. vited. “ ‘*My name? Wal, thar, excuse me, stranger, My name is Old Griz—Old Griz, ther Cloud Scout; known as such ther hull length and breadth of ther range.” at name seemed to recall somethiag to Dick’s mind. Where had he heard it? After a moment’s reflection, he knew, “ fs your name Hiram Griswold?” he asked. “That aire what it be, in full, stranger,” the mountaineer admitted. “Whar did you git your grip onter it?” , “T thought so,” said Dick, “‘ We'll have a talk, and then I'll tell you how I guessed your handle.” “That suits me, furst rate.” CHAPTER XIII. WHIT'’S HIDING PLACE FOUND, Tue tame bear, in the mean-time, had returned to his corner, ard, after taking the neck from another bottle and guzzling its contents, spread out on the floor and almost immediately fell me “T would like to aska few questions, Mr. Griswold,” Dick began. “Go right ahead, me boyee,” the old man, in- n’t call me mister, howsumever,” he requested, “Call me jest Old Griz.” “All right. Well, you have said that you were acquainted with Mr. Whitney.” “Was 1% Wal, I should cough upacatif I wasn’t. Why, we used to tramp together.” _ “He was a very singular man, £ understand.” errr 7 Lee STH TS ie ‘th: TH Mert a ‘ , “ \ ‘Yas, Lallow he was. No one knowed any more about him than I did, and I didn’t know much,” ** Was he a miser?” “Wal, yes, I opine he might be called such. He saved up pooty close, and laid it ’most all by. While other fellers was goin’ on a jamboree, Old Whit would salt his boodle, and content hisself at home here with his pipe and his quart jug. But, he was a square man,” ‘Was he crazy?” **Not much! Leave him alone fur that.” “Do you know much about his life?” “Not much, He had recently lost his wife when I fell in with him, and had put, his gal away in a school,” *. “ Know where he sent her?” ‘Way out East somewheres,” You knew him before he built this house?” *T fell in with him about ther time that he struck it rich in this gulch, aud as he did mea good sarvice I didn’t blow out on his find.” “* And you have seen his daughter, of course.” ‘* Yes, and a mighty fine gal she is, too. She’s a lady, if thereever was one born, and that I’m tellin’ ye.” “T am aware of that,” Dick agreed. ‘‘ How did she like her home, when her father brought her here?” ‘*Not much,I reckon, But she didn’t com- plain any, that I know of, Old Whit got more silent and crabbed than ever, after she kem home, though,” ** When did he make his will?” ‘‘ What will? What do you know about any will?” The questions were put eagerly. “Why, his own will, of course. The will that you and Selim Dodd signed as witnesses.” “Hey you found that dokkymint?” the old ranger demanded. “Tnat’s what I have.” **Bully fur you! Whar did yer fiad it?” Dick pointed to the place. ‘“*Waal, I'll be durn,” the giant drawled. ‘*T’ve s’arched every nook and corner in this hull shebang, many’s the nizht, and I had come to ther ’clusion that it was never ter be found.” ‘You're the ghost, then?” **T reckon I be.” “Do ycu believe the story of a buried for- tune?” ‘“*DoI! Why, young one, I have seen that fortune with my own eyes! Old Whit told me there was a quarter of a million in ther pile.” “Whew! that will be a big thing for his daughter,’ **1f she ever gits it.” ** And she will, for I have made up my mind to find it and restore it to her.” Did you know the contents of the will that you signed?” pes go yl “The finder was appointed to be executor of the will,” ** You bave got it straight.” ‘* Well, [am the finder. The will is in my possession. Now, where do you imagine this mouey is planted?” “Td give my boot-heels ter know, I hev allus had ther idee that it is somewheres near where Old Whit was found dead.” ‘* And where was that?” ‘* By a big rock up ther mountain there to the north, or northwest,” ‘* T believe you are right.” Dick took the map from his pockt and handed itover for inspection. Old Griz took it and looked at if ecg 0d for some minutes by the light of the fire, whic had been replenished since his arrival. ‘¢ What do you make of it?” Dick asked. ‘“ Wal, et looks plain. This house on it is Whit’s, This hyar snake a-crawlin’ up ther mountain is meant fur a trail, I take tt. Hyar’s a stump, and that is about half-way ’tween ther house and ther bowlder. That bowlder is where Old Whit was found dead. What this hyar stick is that’s pokin’ out from under ther bowl- der, I can’t say, Et looks like a temp’rary gal- lus fur a neck-tie party.” : ’ ““Have you searched near this bowlder?” ‘* Every inch‘of ther ground.” ** And found nothing?” ‘* Nary find.” “Well, now, old man, will you help me to find this Jost treasure and restore it to the girl?” ‘Nothin’ is nearer my heart than that same thing, me boyee.” ‘‘Then put 1t there!” They shook hands, — ~ a he yi - ve : Lua Tay. © sige FL ey Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. Ne ae 11 ** We wil) begin this work as soon as daylight: comes,” announced Dick, ‘train or shine, for the Social Six of the Flats will be up here loaded for bear as soon as they get across the. creek,” Dick went ahead, then, and told the old man everything, and they decided to make the search. as soon as daylight came. Dick finally roiled back into his bunk, and the old ranger taking the shaggy bear for his pil-- low, both were soon fast asleep. BL, ust at sunrise the old mountaineer wakened ick. The sky was clear, and but few clouds were to be seen. Down in the gulch a novel sight was. presented. The flats were covered with water, about door-top deep to most of the houses, and it was noticed that there were not as many buildings as there had been, On the opposite bluff the citizens were col- lected, looking down upon the scene of destruc- tion and damage. At one point, further to the east, and just where a rise of the flats made a little island near the slope, some men were seen hard at work making a raft, Dick called his companion’s attention to them. ‘* Them fellers is yer Social Six, and I’m bet- tin’ on’t,” the old ranger declared. ‘ They aire. bound ter git over byar if they kin do it.” **T agree with you, and I think we’d better make haste with our work.” ** Come right erlong.” They turned and started up the trail in the direction indicated on the roe but they had not gone far when Old Bob, the bear, came run- ning out after them and took the lead, . The route circled around to the right, and was a well-beaten path, as if it had much trayel over it, The travel, however, was probably the bear’s. At length the big bowlder was reached. It lay upon a rocky shelf, and was about twelve feet high, by the same in width and breadth, though it was by no means regular. Justin front of it, about three feet away, was a flat rock that might have served for a table, had it been high enough. It was only about two feet. es Y ld Bob took a seat on this as soon as he reached it, as though the end of the journey was. © reached, Deadwood Dick took ovt the compass and consulted it. He could see the house, and the bowlder was in a direct northwest course from. it. At this bowlder the trail on the map ended,, but at the bottom of the map was the key— “* 2 Deg. N. of N. W.*” ‘*Have you ever gone any further than this: rock?’ Dick asked. ** Yas, a leetle furder all around.” } ‘* Well,” consulting the compass, ‘* we will go ahead a little distance in a direct course two- degrees north of northwest, and see what will come of it.” ; ‘‘ Lead ther way, and I'll foller right on.” Dick took range ata tall pine some distance away, and they started forward, They had almost reached the pine when Dick. uttered an exclamation. “ Eureka!” ‘* What yer mean?” demanded Old Griz. ‘tT have found it! I understand it ail now. Look here!” f Dick pointed to a crevice between two rocks,, in which lay a long oak pole, It had one end, the big end, sharpened in the saape of a crow- bar, and the upper side of it was bruised as though it had been used as a lever. ‘* What is it?’ questioned Griz. ** Don’t you see? It isthe stick that is shown on this map. That big bowlder is to be pried. up. ys Be gosh! but I b’lieve you're right, young one!’ ‘ Without furtber words they took up the pcle- and carried it back to the rock, and when they came near the bear got down from his place on ~ the flat stone. ( Dick put the stick across this flat stone to use: it for a fulcrum, and slipped the end of it into a niche that was discovered in the bowlder in just the right place. * Ye’ve hit it, me i es be gosh!” cried Old Griz. ** But, hillo! look hyar at Old Bob, will As soon as the lever was ready, the bear had stepped to the face of the bowlder and put his paws under it, asif actually to give his help in the lift, ‘We've struck it, sure,” cried Dick. ‘‘ Catch hold here, now, and we'll see what we can do.” They lent their combined weights to the lever,,
Page 12
n) ip Ma as ek ~ Beef 12 ‘while Old Bob really lifted with all his strength, But the bowlder did not budge, With a grunt the bear dropped down and trotted around behind the rock, and with his paws pusbed away a stone that lay close in under it om that side. That removed, Bruin trotted back again to supervise proceedings, Tbe two men applied themselves to the lever, and this time their purpose was accomplished, The bowlder tipped back, as though set on a fulcrum, until its front along the ground line was lifted about a yard. Then it moved no fur- ther. Underneath tre great rock there was re- vealed to Dick’s and Old Griz’s astonished gaze, @ small cave or crypt! CHAPTER XIV. THE SKELETON HAND. Drapwoop Dick and Old Griz jumped off the fever and looked in. They took good care not to get their heads un- ‘der the bowlder, however, for fear that it might drop back and catch them. Old Bob, the bear, had quietly resumed his seat on the flat stone, The hole under the bowlder was not large, and seemed to be a natural hole in the under rock, “over which the bowlder had fallen at some time or other. The bowlder was so balanced, at two points, that it could be moved ashas been shown, In the bottom of the hole was seen a tin box, ‘but its lid was raised and it was empty. **Etarnel bills!” cried Old Griz, *‘ ther boodle as gone!” ** Gone?” echoed Dick. * en Yas, fur that is ther box that Old Whit kept it in. Just then Deadwood Dick made a discovery. Right at the edge of the hole, and just where the sharp corner of the bowlder had rested, lay the skeleton of ahuman hand. It wasa left hand, and ona finger was a big, heavy gold ring of peculiar pattern, Under tbe hand, as though it had been clutch- ing it, was a folded paper, The find explained itself. Whoever had found ‘the fortune, and carried it off, had left his band bebind. Te big bowlder had come down and cut it off as cleanly as an ax could have done, “What in blazes hev ye found, boyee?” de- manded Old Griz, f “The band of a thief, and perhaps’ murderer,” Dick answered, Removing the ring from the fleshless finger, the put it into bis pocket, and wrapping the hand in a paper, put that Into another pocket, Then he looked at the folded paper that had ‘been found, Opening it be read: “To THE Frinper:—This money, two hundred and twenty-eight thousand dollars, will be found in three packages. The largest package contains two hundred thousand, and belongs to my daughter, ac- scording to my will, The next in size contains twenty thousand dollars, which belongs to the faith- ful finders and executors of my will. The smallest package holds eight thonsand, a free gift to the finder of this. money, if said finder carry out my wishes respecting it. The eye of God is upon you! * Jason WHITNEY.” “Et war a big sum,” mused Old Griz, ‘* but et aire gone now, I opine,” “Not if there’s a dollar of it to be had,” de- clared Dick. ‘‘ Here’s the clew to the thief,” he cried, displaying the ring, ‘‘and with it Pll hunt ‘him to the ends of the earth!” * Bully fur you.” ; **Shall we shut the bowlder down again?” ** Ef we kin,” They took away the lever and tried to pull the ‘stone down to place, but it refused to move, ‘Seeing their actions, though, Old Bob got down from his seat, went around behind the rock, and in a moment the bowlder toppled over into its place. “Hal” cried Dick, ‘‘that explains how the thief lost his hand. The bear has sprung this ‘trap on him! Lucky for him, cr ules per- re that it didn’t catch his head instead of his ‘*T opine you’re right, boyee,” This bowlder was out of sight from the flats and from the hotel on the opposite bluff, and no ‘one there could know of the discovery that had ‘been made, Dick carried the oak lever back to the place where it had been found, while Old Griz re- anoved every trace he could of the work they had been doing, and when Dick rejoined him pig aig to the house, . ing through to the front door they took nother survey of the flats. The men at work on the raft were still busy, A Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. and the crowd was still on the bluff. The situation remained about the same, Old Griz opened his haversack and rummaged through it, bringing out a piece of dried venison and some bull-cracker biscuits, ‘*Et ain’t much of a spread,” he apologized, “but et is the best I kin do. I reckon that about the toughest article ter find around this camp is provender, This meat aire pooty hard, and these crackers is heavy enough ter fell a ox. Now, et ain’t no use 0’ talkin’, that aire spread- out won’t do for us. I could eat a whole side of bar, myself, and no doubt you could; and as fur Bob, byar, he’s never off his feed,—eh, Bob?” “Tt isn’t much of a banquet, that’s so,” Dick owned, ‘* but it’s better than none,” ‘We'll make et do, anyhow, till we git over ther crick. Fall right in and help yerself, pardner.” ‘¢ You think we can get over the creek, then?” **T should cough up a catamount ef we can’t.” ** How will we doit? If we can get over from this side, why can’t they cross from the other side without a raft?” “Ther odds is ther difference, me boyee, so with all respect I'll have ter ask yer ter wait and see, ** All right, Griz; Dll do it.” As soon as their meal was ended, and washed down with some beer that was found in Old Bob’s supply-basket, they set off down the creek, the old ranger leading the way and Dick following with Old Rosy’s valued umbrella, Old Griz carried the ax with him, and when they had gone about a mile they came toa place where Dick saw ata glance what the old man’s plan was, Here the creek ran in a narrow, rocky gorge. It was narrower than above, and the water was running through with a roar like a cataract. On the south side was nothing but barren rock, while here on the north side were several big trees, F Stepping up to one of these, Old Griz buried the blade of the ax in its trunk, exclaiming: ‘See me plan now, boyee?” “Yes, 1 see,” said Dick, ‘*Go for it, and when you get tired I'll take a whack at it.” Old Griz fell to work and worked faithfully until the tree was about half cut down, when he handed the ax over to Dick, Dick set to work on the opposite side, and in due time the tree fell with a crash, bridging the gorge. y 2 ‘“EurekaJ” Dick cried. ‘‘Now we are all right.” Old Bob, the bear, was the first to cross, and after him went the others, When the opposite bank was reached, they turned their steps toward the Flats, and set out for the big hotel at a brisk walk. Arriving finally where they could look down upon the flooded flats, they saw that the raft- builders bad just completed ‘their craft, and Va about setting out on it for the opposite snore, ‘**Go ahead, my hearties,” laughed Dick, and much good may it do you.” ‘*Eif yer find us thar, come back and let us know about it,” put in the old mountaineer, When they reached the hotel Old Rosy greeted Dick heartily. ‘‘T'm glad ter sea that you’re safe,” he cried. “Had begun ter think that you had got drownded,” “Here i am, all right, you see,” Dick respond- ed; ‘‘and here’s your umbrella. I am greatly obliged for it.” I was somewhat worried about that, How did yer cross ther crick?” Dick explained, and said: ‘*T would like to sea you in private for a mo- ment, Mr. Rosedale; I want to ask you some- thing of importance.” This was said in a low tone. “You kin ask it right here,” said Rosy; “‘no one kin hear.” Dick looked about, and seeing that no one was paying any attention to him or the landlord, took the ring from his pocket and asked: ‘* Did you ever see this before?” ‘* T allow I bev,” the landlord drawled as be looked at it, © ‘* Well, whose was it?” ** Et belonged to Sherwood, of Carson, ther man you’ve heerd me mention.” “‘Holitdoes, eh? He’s the father of the young lady that’s boarding here, I believe.” ** Ther same,” ‘* Not here now, is he” ‘Oh, no, he don’t come out often. biz in Carson.” “You said he’s rich,” He’s in ee ‘Mighty rich, I take it; but he’s in business jest ther same,’ “‘T wonder how he lost this ring. I fouad it up in the hills this morning.” ‘* Haven’t ye heard? Why, he was out one day, up in ther hills, when he got a fall and a big stone fell a-top of him cuttin’ off his left hand slick and clean.” ‘*Ts it possible? When did this happen?” ‘* Wal, le’s see: et was about the time that Old Whitney died, [ think, Anyhow, it was afore Sherwood come into ther fortune thata relation died and left him, fer the boys remark- ed that it was lucky he did git ther windfall, after his accident.” ‘* Well, dou’t mention that 1 have found this, will you? Keep it to yourself. I’m a-going to Carson, and I'll see the man myself,” “On! Til not mention it, if ye don’t want me “And I don’t. By the way, where is that young man from New York?” “T give it up,” , What! is be not here?” “Nary. Found hin gone this mornin’, though he’d left money in his room to pay his bill, and more.” “'That’s strange; I wanted to see him.” ‘“‘There’s somethin’ stranger thanthat, Miss Ollie has disappeared, too, She ain’t ter be found, and her hoss is gone from ther barn.” “When did you miss her?” “This mornin’?, And there’s somethin’ about it all that is funny to me.” ** What is that?” “That feller bought a hoss last night, and pub itin my barn. His hoss is gone, My opine is that him and ther gal bas gone off together.” ** ‘What leads you to think that?” “Wal, Viltell ye. Ie kem in here yesterday afternoon, after he’d been out somewheres, and he was bent on seein’ thergal, {was willin’ but ther gal wasn’t, She wouldn’t see him, He vowed he’d see her, thongh, by one way or an- other, and this mornin’ the old woman tells me that he did act’ly come inter ther kitchen and corner her there, They had a long talk,” ‘Don’t know what they said, eh?” ‘* Nary.” “Well, say nothing. Now, I want to buy | your two horses. Name your figure,” “ But I don’t want to sell, and—” “Yes, you do. You bave got a price on them. Name that price, and P’ll count out the cash,” Old Rosy saw that Dick meant business, so he named a figure—one plenty big enough, an Dick paid the money. Half an hour later Dick and Hiram Griswold set out for Carson City, and as they rode away from the hotel a shouting was heard, and look- ing hack they saw that the Whitney house wag all ablaze. The Social Six had reached it, CHAPTER XV, RECOVERED! Tue handsomest cffice in one of the finest bust- ness buildings in the city was occupied by Sher* wood & Co, This firm carried on a banking, real-estate business, Sherwood was a man of fifty, portly, and showing every sign of high living, He bad but one hand, his left hand being missing above the wrist. This man was in his private office one morn- ing, when two strangers entered, broki and roking, ad One was a young man, handsome, and of powerful build, The other was older, and with a stern ex- pression of face, **You are Mr, Sherwood?” the younger man asked. ‘* That is my name, sir,” was the response. ‘“T have come to restore something to you, something that you lost not a very long time ” ago. PSherwood looked slightly puzzled. ‘¢ What is it?” he asked, **Tt is this.” As he spoke the young man laid a skeleton hand upon the desk before the rich banker, a hand upon the third finger of which was a heavy ring! With a cry of horror the man shrunk back in his chair, his eyes dilating in guilty fear, “What is. this? Where did you get it” he demanded, “Tt is the hand of a thief and murderer,” was the firm nse, ‘It was found in the cave from which Jason Whitney's fortune-was takem by you!” '» ' ih . * ‘ 5-4 a eR - tg. *
Page 13
The banker was white to the lips, and he - trembled like a leaf of aspen. ** Who are you?” he gasped. ‘*T am Deadwood Dick, detective.” ‘Heavens! Iam lost!” ** Officer,” said Dick, turning to his companion, “arrest thisman, I charge bim with the mur- der of Jason Whitney, and with the theft of his fortune,” **Tt is a lie!” the banker cried, find the name of Omar in it, Was it_an assumed name after all?” he mused, ‘Was the fellow lying toine? I hate to believe that, for I summed him up as square. What bas he done with that poor girl? find bim, if I bave to scour the world,” Balked in his first move, Dick proceeded to make another, Visiting one of the leading advertising agencies, he paid to have tke following notice inserted in man sconieyt y of the leading papers of the TIoon knew more than the others» n-ne will’ ‘ heart has longed for ber all these “FOUND: A FORTUNE! “ The lost fortune of Rosedale Flats has been dis- covered, Owner can bave same by applying to me, **RicwarD BRISTOL, “Hotel B—k, “New York City.” Dick had no doubt but that this would sooner or later meet the eye of the lost girl, if she were alive; but he was impatient to be doing some- thing more to find her. Soon the right idea came to his mind, He knew that the girl had been at school at. Newburg for some years, and reasoned that 1 would be strange if he could not learn some- thing about her there, That is, sometbing as to the whereabouts of her relatives, if she had any living. It was possible that she had gone to some of her father’s people. Without delay he set out for that town, ffis first inquiry was for the schools of the city, and having made a list of them, he set about visiting them. The first one he tried happened to be the one he wanted. Inquiring for Miss Olivia Whitney, he was told no such person had ever been there, Then he asked about Fay Fenton. This proved& to be the right clew. Ollie had had an assumed name at the school, Being told that sucha person bad been there for some years, but had n taken away about two years before, Dick began careful inquiries, At first, like Wynd Omar, he could gain no in- formation whatever, but when he had told bis story, and explained why he wanted to find the girl, the ancient dames of the school became more communicative, He was told that the gir} had been placed in the school by a Mrs, Wynd- bam, of New York, who always paid her bills, Armed with Mrs. Wyndbam’s address, Dick returned to New York. Bunting up the place to which be bad been directed, he found it to bea palatial residence on one of the principal avenues, Inquiring for Mrs. Wyndham, he was showm into a handsome parlor, and in a little time the lady entered. She was a handsome womun, apparently no more than thirty years of age, though in truth she was four years older, As soon, as Dick began to make known his business, she began to grow strangely nervous, as he noticed, and he mentally told bimself that there was a skeleton in the closet somewhere, ‘* Why do you want to find this young lady?” she asked, ‘* Because,” Dick replied, ‘‘I have found the fortune of Jason Whitney, and as I am the executor cf his will, I desire to turn the money over to his daughter, whom I know this Fay Fen- ton to be.” eg woman was pale to the lips, and trem- ing. “fT rust see you in private, sir,” she said, ** Come with me into this other room,” Dick followed her into an adjoining room, and the lady closed the door. ‘* How much do you know about this girl?” she asked, when they were seated, “Much,” Dick answered, significantly, He meant to learn much, if he could, ** Perhaps you know all,” the woman said. “*T believe [ do, though perhaps not,” was the response, “‘Perbaps what i know, you would not want the young lady to hear.” ‘“lt is as I feared,” the woman gasped, as she sunk back, ‘But, you will keep the secret, will you not?” she asked, eagerly. “Tell me the whole story,” Dick responded, “‘and I will keep it sacredly. I am a detective, and must get at the bottom facts.” ‘“*T will trust you,” the unbappy woman de- clared. ‘The girl must never know that she is not the child of Jason Whitney.” Deadwood Dick was surprised. How could. Lo eheg after the proof he had found in the old ible “Olivia is my own child,” the woman con- fessed, in a low, earnest tone. ‘‘No more need be said. My sister, Deborah, older than myself, adopted her, and gave ber herown name, She was the wife of this Jason Whitney, They en- tered her name in their family record as their own offspring.” “That record is in my possession,” said Dick. “Tam glad of that. The girl must have it, She will never suspect the truth, Well, I paid my sister and her husband for their services, and when my sister died in 'seyenty-eight, I placed the child in a schoo] at Newburg. She remained there until I saw, or thought I saw, a chance to ve her a position in life, and at the same time ve her near me; for youcannot sti how my years : ; { ‘ , ' i vy - “fa
Page 14
} 14 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. “At the age of twenty I married Roger Wyndham He was a widower, and had a son, “Omar, who was just half my age.” Deadwood Dick here guessed the truth, “As this son grew up, [ resolved that he should wed my child, if [I could in any way bring itabout. I sent the girl West to Whitney, and then began to lay my scheme, Whitney idolized the child, I knew, and would almost have laid down his life for her. I could trust him, All my correspondence with bim was done hrough a third party, one Selim Dodd. I learned that Whitney had amassed a big for- + which he declared should all be left to “Olivia. **T pretended to haveadream. I told it to Omar Wyndham. It was to the effect that ata place in the West called Rosedale Flats was a girl who was destined to become his wife. She was thought to be poor, I said, but was in truth im- miensely rich, As the Wyndham fortune had been shrinking, I believed this would add weight to my plan. I repeated the lie daily, until it had produced a marked impression upon the young man, and then I induced him to go and see a fortune-teller. In the meantime I[ had posted her and provided her with a photograph of my child. e went,and the impression she made on him was wonderful. He set out for the West immediately. ° ‘* Since his return with his bride—” ‘* Ha!” exclaimed Dick, ‘the married her then?” ‘*Oh, yes. He found her at a hotel out there, where she wasemployed. She would not see him at first, but finally he got the better of her in that, and he then discovered that Ollie Whitney was none other than Fay Fenton, a young lady ‘he had met at Newburg, (a secret he had kept,) and whom he loved. It was the photograph that had sent hina Westin such haste, She loved him, too, and it was for that reason that sbe wanted to keep out of his sight. She feared he would scorn her, finding that she had had an assumed name, and that she was poor and a servant. “He soon reassured her, however, urged her to marry him, and she agreed. As soon as the storm broke—it had been storming bard for two days, they took horses and set out for the nearest railroad point’ There they were wed, and start- ed East immediately. They are in this house nov. '**Good!” cried Dick, ‘I must see them.” “Wait, wait,” the woman cried earnestly, and she dropped upon her knees at his feet with clasped hands, ‘* You must keep this secret, You must swear by your honor as a man that you will keep it. Donot letit be known that f —that she— ‘* Have no fears, madam,” Dick reassured, ‘I will never reveal the truth. It is not necessary, “This secret shall die with you and me.” “You swear it?” **T do, solemnly.” ‘It is enough, As soon as I have calmed my- self a little we will return tothe parlor, and I will call Omar and Ollie down.” CHAPTER XVII. THE HAPPY ENDING. Wauen Omar Wyndham and his happy bride entered the parlor, they both greeted Deadwood Dick heartily. ; ** Pardon the deception I played upon you, in regard to my name,” Omar apologized, * No need to mention it,” Dick waived. When greetings had been exchanged, Dick told his story, and it need not be said that it was attentively listened to, ‘ All the facts being known tothe reader, the story need not be quoted. Two pleasant hours were passed, and finally, being urged so earnestly, Dick accepted the in- vitation to become a guest for a few days. In order to turn the fortune over to Ollie, it ‘was necessary for her to go West, and in a week ‘the party started. It consisted of Deadwood Dick, Omar and Ollie, and Mrs, Wyndham and a companion, Arriving at Carson, the business was promptly done, and the bank where the fortune was de- posited transferred the amount to Ollie’s credit to tran in New A ni arab cis e business settled, the part: id a visit to Rosedale. ney er lace had assumed its old-time ecaati and Old Rosy was at his post as usual, He and his wife received Ollie with open arms. The “elite coterie,” ah, where were they? They were gone. That they knew of Ollie’s change of fortune was certain, for the papers gave much space to the story. , Remaining there a few days, the party, except Deadwood Dick, returned Hast, =~ ; The strongest friendship was expressed on parting with Dick, and he was urged to visit the Wyndham home whenever.he happened to be in New York. When the stage started that bore them away, Dick turned to Old Rosy and said; ‘* Now, cld fellow, I’ll take that box of cigars, if you please, and will settle down here long enough to smoke them up.” And Old Rosy, remembering his bet, promptly handed the box over the bar. THE END, Beadle's Dime Library. BY WILLIAM R. EYSTER, 145 Pistol Pards; or, The Silent.Sport from Cinnabar, 160 Soft Hand, Sharp; or, The Man with the Sand. 182 Hands Up; or, The Knights of the Canyon, 192 The Lightning Sport. 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 Sport in Spectacles; or, Bad Time at Bunco, 833 Derringer Dick, the Man with the Drop. 344 Double Shot Dave of the Left Hand. 856 Thr-e Handsome Sports; or, The Combination, 875 Royal George, the Three in One, 396 The Piper Detective; or, The Gilt Edge Gang. 402 Snapshot Sam: or, The Angels’ Flat Racket, 429 Hair Trigger Tom of Red Bend, 459 Major Sunshine, the Man of Three Lives. 478 Pinnacle Pete; or, The Fool from Way Back. 503 The Dude from Denver. 525 Fresh Frank, the Derringer Daisy. 583 Oregon, the Sport With a Scar. 549 Belsnazzar Brick, the Bailiff of Blue Blazes. 558 Hurrah Harry, the High Horse from Halcyon. 568 [he Dude Detective. 578 Seven Shot Steve, the Sport with a Smile. 590 Gentle Jack, the High Roller from Humbug. 603 Deseré Alf, the Man With the Cougar. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 8 The Headless Horseman. , 12 The Death-Shot; or, Tracked to Death. 55 The Scalp Hunters. A Romance of the Plains, 66 The Specter Barque. A Tale of the Pacific, 74 The Captain of the Rifles; or, The Lake Queen. 200 The Rifle Rangers; or, Adventures in Mexico, 208 The White Chief. A Romance of Mexico, 213 The War Trail; or, The Hunt of the Wild Horse. 21: The Wild Huntress; or, The Squatter. 228 The Maroon. A Tale of Voodoo and Obeah., 234 The Hunter’s Feast. 267 The White Squaw, BY ANTHONY P. MORRIS, 5 The Fire Fiends; or, Hercules. Hunchback. 95 Azhort, the Axman; or, The Palace Secrets. 100 The French Spy; or, The Bride of Paris. ~ 167 The Man of Steel. Tale of Love and Terror, 185 Man Spider; or. The Beautiful Sphinx. 238 Hank Hound, the Crescent City Detective. 260 The Masked Mystery; or, The Black Crescent. 288 Electro Pete, the Man of . 306 The Roughs of Richmond. 813 Mark Magic, Detective. 334 The Cipber Detective. 343 The Head Hunter; or, Mark Magic in the Mine, 357 Jack Simons, Detective. ‘ BY PROF, J. HW. INGRAHAM, 113 The Sea Slipper: or, The Freebooters, 118 The Burglar Captain; or. The Fallen Star 814 Lafitte; or, The Pirate of the Gulf, 816 Lafitte’s Lieutenant; or, Child of the Sea. BY PEROY B, ST. JOHN, 57 The Silent Hunter. 86 The Big Hunter: or, The Queen of the Woods. BY WM. G. PATTEN, 545 Hustler Herr. the Cowboy Sport, 571 Old Dismal, the Range Detective. 602 Captain Nameless, the Mountain Mystery. BY J. C. COWDRICK, 890 The Giant Cupid; or Cibuta John’s Jubilee. 422 Blue Grass Burt, the Gold Star Detective. 436 Kentucky Jean, the Sport from Yellow Pine. 452 Rainbow Rob, the Tulip from Texas, 473 Gilbert of Gotham, the Steel-arm Detective, 499 Twilight Charlie, the Road Sport. 519 Old Riddles, the Rocky Ranger 557 The Mountain Graybeards; or, Riddles’ Riddle. 565 Prince Paul, the Postman Detective. 580 Shadowing a Shadow. 591 Duke Daniels, the Society Detective. 598 The Dominie Detective. BY GEORGE C, JENKS. 898 Sleepless Eye, the Pacific Detective. 422 The Giant Horseman. , 507 The Drummer Detective. 526 Death-Grip, the Tenderfoot Detective, 538 Rube Rocket, the Tent Detective. 554 Mad Sharp, the Rustler. ; 572 Jaunty Joe, the Jockey Detective, BY NEWTON MM. CURTISS, 120 The Texan Spy; or. The Prairie Guide. 254 Giant Jake, the Patrol of the Mountain, BY FRANCIS JOHNSON, 25 The Gold Guide; or, Steel Arm, Kegulator. 26 The Death Track; or, The Mountain Outlaws. 123 Alapaha the Squaw; or, The Border Renegades 124 Assowaum the Avenger; or, The Doom of the Destroyer. 135 The Bush Ranger: or, The Half-Breed Pajah. 136 The Outlaw Hunter; or, The Bush Ranger, 188 The Border Bandit: or, The Horsy Thief’s Trail, BY C. DUNNING CLARK, 164 The King’s Fool. 183 Gilbert the Guide, BY COL. THOMAS H. MONSTERY, 82 Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster. 126 The Demon Duelist; or, The League of Steel. 143 The Czar’s Spy; or, The Nihilist League 150 El 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 Monarehsof the Show, 262 Fighting Tom, the Terror of the Toughs. $82 Spring-Heel Jack: or, The Masked Mystery, BY ISAAC HAWKS, Ex-Detective, 282 Orson Oxx; or, The River Mystery. 240 A Cool Head; or, Orson Oxx in Peril. BY NED BUNTLINE. 14 Thayendanegea,the Scourge; or, The War-Eagle, 16 The White Wizard; or, Tbe 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 Smuggler Captain; or, The Skipper’s Crime, 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot Spy. 270 Andros, the Rover; or, The Pirate’s Daughter, 861 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot. 517 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail. y 584 Fire Feather, the Buccaneer King. BY E. A, ST. MOX. 471 The Heart of Oak Detective. 491 Zigzag and Cutt, the Invincible Detectives, BY EDWARD WILLETT. 129 Mississippi Mose; or, a Strong Man’s Sacrifice, 209 Buck Farley, the Bonanza Prince. 222 Bill the Blizzard; or, Red Jack’s Crime. 248 Montana Nat, the Lion of Last Chance Camp, 274 Flush Fred, the Mississippi Sport. 289 Flush Fred’s Full Hand. 298 L-gger Lem; or, Life in the Pine Woods, 808 Hemlock Hank, Tough and True. 815 Flush Fred’s Double; or, The Squatters’ League, 827 Terrapin Dick, the Wildwood Detective. 337 Old Gabe, the Mountain Tramp. 348 Day Dillon, King of Crosscut. 368 The Carfyon King; or, a Price on his Head. 483 Flush Fred, the River Sharp. MISCELLANEOUS. 6 Wildcat Bob. By Edward L. Wheeler. 9 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 10 Vidoeq, the French Police Spy. By himself. 11 Midshipman Easy. B ——— Marryatt. 82 B’hoys of Yale: or, The Scrapes of Collegians, 60 Wide Awake, the Robber King. By F. Dumont, 68 The Fighting tpn By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 76 The + era Musketeers. By George Albany. 78 The Mysterious ha By Arthur M. Grainger. 102 The Masked Band. By corre L. Aiken. {10 The Silent Rifleman. By H. W. Herbert. 125 The Blacksmith Outlaw. By H. Ainsworth, 133 Rody the Rover. Ty William Carieton. =, 140 The Three Spaniards. By Geo. Walker. | 144 The Hunchback of No tre Dame. By Victor Hugo. 146 The Doctor Detective. By George Lemuel. , 152 Captain Ironnerve, the Counterfeiter Chief. . 158 The Doomed Dozen, By Dr, Frank Powell, 166 Owlet, the Robber Prince. By S. R, Urban. 179 Conrad, the Convict. By Prof. Gildersleeve. 190 The Three Guardsmen. iy Ries Dumas. 261 Black Sam, the Prairie Thunderbolt. By Col, Jo Yards. 275 The Smuggler Cutter. By J Dz. Coane. 312 Kinkfoot Karl, tbe Mountain Scourge. By Mor- ris Redwing. 850 Flash Falcon, Society Detective. By W. J. Cobb, 853 Bart Brennan; or, The King of Straight Flush, By John Cuthbert. 366 The Telegraph Detective. By George H. Morse, 419 Sarah Brown, Detective. By K. F. Hill. 518 Royal Richard, the Thoroughbred. By J, WwW. sbon. 584 Green Mounts hea ors yg Counterfeiter’a Cave. armaduke , 542 The Ocean’ Drift; or, The Fight for Two Lives, By A. F. Holt. q 566 The Dauntless Deteciive: iy The Daughter Avenger. By Tom W Kin a A new issue every Wednesday, meets’ cncoel inane o for Bale by al’ era, teu cen “A A sen mail op sented t twelve cents each. BEALE by gpa | Publishers, 98 William Street, New York,
Page 15
~~ fi ¥ i BEADLE’S« H ALF- JIME*[ IBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Hach Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY OLL COOMES, a9 peabena Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. e Dum py. * 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide, _ 81 Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 58 The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. Z1 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. ie Hawk-ere jierr the Young Trapper Ranger. ollo, the Bo anger. ane outs Shot Seth, the Boy Lac sanreed car-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter, 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 158 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 182 Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain. 202 Proapect Pete ; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters, 208 The Boy Hercules: os The Prairie Tramps, 18 T T the Texas Terror. 224 Dachin Dek} or, Trapper Tom’s Castle, 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, 248 The Disguised Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger, jh Dnt we ans, the: Dox Sharpshonter, 90 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 300 The Sky Demons or, Rainbolt, the Ranger. 884 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero, 409 Herculest vr, Dick, the Boy Ranger. A1TZ Webfoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, ~ 444 Little Buckskin, the Young Prairie Centaur, 457 W ingedtoot wred Ph a polar Saul, 468 Tamarac Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. arg Old Tom Rattler , Davy Crockett's By Ensign C. D, Warren. ; 298 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid of the Clif, By Captain Comstock. 817 Peacock Pete. the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Lieu- tenant Alired Thorne. 828 The Sky Detectives 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, Moris. 874 Gold-Duat Tom: or, Ben’s Donhle Match. By @ H. Morte. 876 California Joe’s Firat Trail. Hoyer Monstery. 418 Biily Bombshell, the Cliff Climber. By F. S. Winthrop. 475 The Black Ship. By John S Warner. 484 Comanche Dick and Hix Three Invinelblea, By see mere bl tag ‘ le Vowbo uke. By Edwin Brooke Forrest. 552 Artel the Athlete. By David Druid. 585 Will Waters, the Boy Ferret. By H. Enton. 682 The Dend Petective’s Double. By Gerald Carlton A New iIsaue Every Tuesday: The Half-Dime Library is for anle by atl newsdealers, fire gents per copy, or sent by mall on receipt of alx cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, By G. L. Alken. rooked Trail. By Colonel Thome 98 William Street, New York, |
Page 16
® meee Oe ee gee ie See Pie ich - = eat a ae —— — Fa a BEADLE’S«H ALF- DIME* | IBRARY. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. Published Every Tuesday. No Double Numbers, BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, Deadwood Dick Novels, 1 Deadwoad Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Deadwood Dick’s Deflance; or, Double Daggers. 28 Deadwood Dick in Disguise; or, Buffato Ben. 85 Deadwood Dick in His Castle. 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; o-, The Phantom Miner. 49 Deadwood Pick in Danger; or, Omaha Oll. 57 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane, the Heroine. 77 Deadwood Dick’s Last Acti or, Corduroy Charlie. 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville, 104 Deadwood Dick’s Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost. 188 Deadwood Dick’s Home Base; or, Blonde Bill. 149 Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party, 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivuls of the Road. 201 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel, 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Adventure. 217 Deadwood Dick’s Dead Deal. 221 Deadwood Dick’s Death-Plant. 282 Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Toughs, 268 Deadwood Dick’s Divide; or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail. 809 Deadwood Dick’s Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. bt Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats, Deadwood Dick’s Ducatas; or, Days in the Diggings. B51 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta, 862 Deadwood Dick’s Claim, 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. 410 Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds, 421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A “Cute Case.” 480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand, 448 Deadwood Dick 471 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’4, Corral; or, Bozeman Bil. 476 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dog Detective. 515 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Protegee. 622 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Three. 529 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Danger Ducks, 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Death Hunt, 589 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Texas, 544 Deadwood Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidoeg, 549 Deadwood Dick, Jr., on Mia Mettle 554 Deadwood Dick, Jr., tn Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Boston, 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Philadetphia, 572 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago, 578 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Afloat. 684 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver, 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Decree, 595 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Beelzebub’s Basin, 600 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Coney Island, 606 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Leadville Lay. 612 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Detroit. 618 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Cincinuatl, 624 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Nevada, 680 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land, 686 Deadwood Dick, Jr., After the Queer, 642 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Buffalo, = peaaweos pe us T.?By I et anc sevens the Continent $66 Weedt ell Gas, ios eee 666 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Back in the Mines, 672 Deadwood Dick, Jr., (n Durango} or, “ Gathered In.” Ui Gade te is oe ee >» dr. ¥ 690 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Dollara, 695 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Danger Divide, Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 86 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woolf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot Y 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life 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 Rifle Team. 69 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter; or, The Boy Detective, 80 Rosebud Rob or, Nugget Ned, th» Knight, 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner}; <r, Rosebud Rob on Hand, 88 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance, 92 Canada Ohet ; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp, 96 Watch-Eye}; or, Arabs xnd Angels of a Great City. 218 Jack Hoyle the Young Speculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner, 188 Boas Bob the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent, 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scamps, 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter, 226 Snoozer, the By Sharp: or, The Arab Detective, 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator.” 244 Sferra Sam, the Frontier Ferret. 248 Sierra Sam’s Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sterra Sam’s Pardy; or, The Angel of Big Vista. 258 Sierra Sam’« Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 278 Jumbo Joe, the Boy Patrol: or, The Rival Heirs, 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 281 Denver Doll's Victory. 255 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or. The Road Queen. 299 A No, 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 808 ’Liza Jane, the Sirl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport. 825 Kelley, Hickey & Co,, the Detectives of Philadelphia. 880 Little Qu!ck-Shot3 or, The Dead Face of Daggersville, 4 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner, 889 Kangaroo Kit’*« Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood, b aie Wred, hha — Gopher. Yreka Jim. the Gold-Gatherer} or, The Life Lottery. 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. igh Mat Marry, the Base Ball Detective, Sam Sia’ the r-Boy Detective, im and Pal, Private ‘© Sal, the Slasher. 8am, BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRATAM, 7 The Flying Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast. 17 Ralph Roy, the boy Buccancer; or. The Fugitive Yacht, 24 Diamond Dirk Leo The Mystery of the Yellowstone, 62 The Shudow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenants, 75 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf, 102 Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Smuggier. 111 The Sea-Devils or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. 116 The Hussar Captain ; or, The Hermit of Hell Gate, 197 Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter, 204 Gold Plume ; or, The Kid-Glove Sport, 216 Bison BILL, the Prince of the Reins. 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer, 229 Crimson Kate}; or, The Cowboy's Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy ; or, The Freelance Heir, 250 The Midshipman Mutineer; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer. 264 The Floating F eather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure, 26” The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s Cruise; or, “ The Gold Ship” Chase, 250 Merle Monte’s Fate ; or, Pearl, the Pirate's Bride, 284 The Sea Marauder; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. 804 The Dead Siot Dandy ; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler, 808 Keno Kit; or, Dexd Shot Dandy’s Double. 814 The Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler's Trail. 877 Bonodel, the Boy Kover; or, The Flagless Schooner, 888 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Leland, 887 Warpath WILI, the Boy Phantom. § « 898 Seawalf, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 laodor, the Young Conspirator; or, The Fatal League, 407 The at Insurgent; or, The Coban. Vendetta. 412 The Wild Vachtamany or, The War-Clouu’s Cruise, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy's Luck; or, The Corsair. 487 The Sea Ralder. 441 The Ocean Firefly; or, A Middy’s Vengeance. 446 Maphazard Harry; or, The Seapegrace of the Sea, 450 Wizard Will: or, The Boy Ferret of New York. Wizard Will's Street Scouts. 462 The Born Guide; or, The Sailor Boy Wanderer. 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster. 474 Florays or, Wizard Wilt’s Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Wi!!’s Last Case, AST Nevada Ned, the Revolver Kanger. 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. 5620 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. 525 Brothers in Buckskin. 530 The Buckskin Bowers. 585 The Bue skin Rovers, 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marander ot the Rie, 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Lafitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Son. 555 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee BUI, the Prairie Shadowet, 565 Kent Kingdon, the Curd King, 570 Camille, the Card Queen. 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. 580 The Outcast Cadet; or, ‘fie 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 Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions, 617 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scout; or, The Rio Raiders, 644 The Hereules Highwayman. 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Kider Detective; or, Buffalo Bill’s Boy Para, 656 Butterfly Billy’s Man Hunt, 662 Butterfly Billy’s Bonanza. 668 The Buecaneer Mid«hipman. 674 The Wizard Sailor; or, Red Ralph, the Rover. 679 The Sea Shadower; or. The Freebcoter’s Legacy. 686 Orlando, the Ocean Free Flav: or, The Tarnished Name. 692 The Rival Sharps; or, Redfern, the Secret Service Scout. 697 The Scarlet Sombrero; or, The Sharp from Texas BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm. F. Cody), 8 Kanaas King; or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, | he Pilot of the Prairie, 55 Deadly-Eye. the Unknown Sec ut. 68 Border Robin Iloods or, The Prairie Rover, 158 Faney Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’s Trust, BY CHARLES MORRIS. 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective. 122 Vhfl Mardy, the B «# Buy, 126 Picayune Pete ; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective, 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, é 147 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 152 Black Beas, Will Wildfire’s Racer, 157 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. 162 WIll Wildfire in the Wooda, 165 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy. 170 A Trump Oard; or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses, 174 Bob Rockett}; or, Mysteries of New York. 179 Bob Rockett, thd Bank Runner, 188 The Hidden Hand} or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge, 187% Fred Halyard, the Life Buat Boy; or, The Smugglers, 189 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 Netective, Tom Tanner; or, The Black Sheep of the Flock, 225 Sam Chareoal the Premium Darky, 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang, Billy Brick, the Jolly Vagagond. 433 mo ee hak OF Jerry, pe te or, Femaies Alive.’ eteetive ge% or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty, 48% Wild Dick Rackets ertif | 501 Roota, the Boy Fireman: or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, b68 The Seerct service Roy 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. BY J, 0. COWDRIOK, 860 Bilver-Mask, the Man | eat ht 86Y Shastu, tne Gold King; or, For Seven Years Dead, 420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a Name, 424 Cibuta Jonny; or, Red-Hot Timea at Ante Bar, 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout, 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude. , 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo, 606 Redlight Ralph, the Prince of the Road, 514 Broadway Billy’s Boodle. 524 The Engineer Detective. 5836 Broadway Billy’s ‘ Diftikilty.” 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective. 557 Broadway Billy’« Peath Racket. ett tt Lake the Young mts anny oe *s Regeln The Chimney Spy; or, Broadway y’s Surprise-Party, 592 The Boy Pinkerton. 605 Wiilam @ Broadway; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning, 615 Fighting Harry the Chief of Chained Cyclone. 628 Broadvay Billy’s Dead Act. 640 Barebrek Beth, the Centaur of the Cirele. 47? Typewriter Tilly, the Merchant's Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgan, tlie“ Pizenest”? Man of Ante Bar. 669 Broadway Billy Abroad. 675 Broadway Billy’s Beat; or, Beating San Francisco's Fines), 687 Broadway Billy In Clover. 696 Broadway Billy in Texas. BY T. ©. WARBAUGH. fek o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of 76, 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Little Hunter. 47 Nightingale N ats or, Ine Forest Captains, 64 Dand Jack : or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trails, 82 Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. , 94 Midnight Jack ; or, The Boy Trapper. 106 Old Froaty, the Guide; or, The White Queen. ‘ 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. ‘ 189 Judge Lynch, Jr.i or, The Boy Vigilante. 155 Gold Trig er, the Sport; er, The Girl Avenger. 169 Tornado Toms} or, Injun Jack From Red Core MY 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkanasaw ; or, The Queen ot Fate’s Revenge, 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot's Crusade. 281 Plucky Phils or, Rosa, the Re! Jezebel, 241 Bill Bravo; or, The Roughs of the Rockies, 255 Captain Apoli-, tne King-Pin of Bowie, 267 The Buckekin Detective. 279 Old Winchs; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes, 294 Dynamite Dan; 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 Pards; or, The Terror of Take-Notice, 886 Big Benson; or, The Queen of the La‘so. 845 Pitiless Matt; or, Red Thunderbolt’s Secret, 856 Cool Sam and Pard ; or The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective, 886 Captain Cutlass; or, 1 he B: ccaneer’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 Keno Baz, 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. , 477 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, 621 Dodger Dick’s Beat Dodge. ; 528 Fox and Falcon, the Bowery Shadows, 588 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 548 Dodger Dick’s Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectiven, 558 Dodeer Dick’s Desperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidocq. 5678 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 Pards, 687 Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. 645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp, 658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beagle. 671 Jersey Jed, the Boy Hustler; or, Shadowing the Shadower. 685 Happy Hugh, the Boy. Musician Detective, LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 698 Old Crazy, the Mon “ihont a Hend; or, Lightheart Luke’s Clean Sweep. By Jos ,* b&. Badger, Jr. . ‘e909 Biynple Sim, the Brone'o Buster; or, Playing the Fool for Big Stakes, By Lieut, A. K. Slins. 700 Dendwood Dick. Jr.’*, Prop: or, The Sojourn at Satan’s Spring. By Edward L. Wheeler. 701 Photograph Fred, the Camera Sharp; or, The Fight to the Finish. By T, C, Harbaugh, 702 Blue. Jacket Bill; or, The Red Hot Rangers Red Hor Racket, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. { 708 Broadway Billy’s Brand; or, The New York Delegates in Hard-up Camp, By J. C, Cowdriek, Ready January 13 704 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Jack-pot; or, Making Crooked Things Straight. By Edward L, Wheeler Ready January 20, 705 Violet Vane’sa Vows; or, The Crafty Detective Cran By Wm. G, Potten. ' Ready January 21, : A New Isauc Every Tuesday. The Half. Dime Library !s for sale by all newsdealers, five eents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, ; BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pub 98 William Street New York, * .