Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 698) (1890 12 09)
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CZ ee (ET poe us! |e!‘ UU i Yl Ct Tt Copyright 1:90, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, December 9, 1890. 2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS. Price, No: GGe. Co i tht : 5 Osan, » VOL XXVEL No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. — all 1 OR Light-Heart Lata's Clean Sweep. BY JOS. E, BADGER, JR., AUTHOR OF ‘“‘CHINCAPIN DAN,” ‘DAINTY LANCE,” ‘“‘ MUSTANG SAM,” HURRICANE BILL,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. THE MAN WITHOUT A HEAD. RIstIne above the confused chorus of angry cries, fierce oaths and menacing growls, came the harsh voice of ‘‘ Rusty Jack” Cripps: ‘* What's the use o’ chinnin’ furder? Hyar’s the kind o’ argymint even a crazy critter kin onderstand |” = — - With a deft flirt, he dropped a noose over SHIELDING OLD CRAZY WITH HER OWN FAIR BODY ; » CHIQUITA SENT ARROW AFTER that white-crowned head, slipping one hand ARROW INTO THE GLOOM,
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a ae 2 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. | along the rope until the rough knot was hidden by the flowing beard of the old man standing so helpless in the midst of the rough gang. ** Don’t—it chokes—” ‘‘That’s it’s name an’ natur,” laughed Rusty Jack, coarsely, giving tue rope an impatient jerk. ‘* Truth-choker, fer short! Last call an’ iat warnin’, Old Crazy! Sing yer song, an’ sing it true, or—off comes the hull head o’ ye!” His hairy paws gave the rope another jerk, so forcible that the old man flung ont his arms to preserve his balance. The shock must have given no little pain, yet the sound extorted from those lips was a laugh. ‘Steady, Cripps!” came a clear, warning voice. ‘‘ Draw it a little milder, pardner.” Old Crazy turned toward the last speaker, flinging out one bony hand by way of emphasiz- ing his words: ‘“* He cails me crazy, yet—poor blind fool!” turning swiftly to the burly ruffian who had brought the rope into requisition asa last re- sort, ‘‘Have ye no eyes? Are ye blind, as wellas crazy? Where is my head ?” ‘* Whar it won’t be much louger, critter, ef ye don’t talk powerful smart! Whar’d ye hit yer pay-dirt? Whar’s the bonanzy ye’ve bin work- in’ the past two year? Dug-gun ye fer a grizzly hog! Ye’ve bad the swill-trough to yer lone- some self plenty long ’nough, an’ ef ye don’t show up in a holy hurry, we'll run ye so mighty high the buzzards ’Il build nests in the ha’r o’ yer head long afore—” ‘* My head?” echoed Old Crazy, with a repeti- tion of that strange, hollow laugh. ‘‘ Where is my head? J have none! I lostitagesago! I have searched, and prayed as I searched, but still I cannot find it. If you can tell me where to look for it, P'il—” ‘What ye call this?” cried Cripps, grasping his victim by the hair and giving his head a rough shake, ‘‘Head or no head, it makes a bump plenty big fer to keep the rope from pull- in’ off with the hefto’ ye. An’ of ye don’t open the head o’ ye right smart, up a trea ye go!” Old Crazy struck the rude hand from his- head, turaing toward the young man who had feebly protested on his behalf shortly before, a touch of pity mingling with the contempt io his voice: ‘*The poor fool is blind, or he would not talk of— Have youseen my head, stranger?” with an abrupt change in face and voice, his bony fingers trembling as he gently touched Showy Joo Hoover on an arm, ‘If you might only help me finiit! It is so hard—so strange—so pite- ous! Just think! A man without a head! And J have none! I lost it—where did [ lose it?” Rasty Jack ground forth an ugly imprecation and reached out a hand to close upon the strange being, hut the hairy ene was swiftly thrust aside by Hoover, whose blue eyes glittered vivid- ly as he muttered, in a hasty aside: * Draw it mild, 1 tell ye, man! Leave him to me, can’t you?” With the rings on his slender white fingers flashing in the red rays of the declining sun, Joe Hoover loosened the noose and cast the rope over its owner’s shoulders, making an imperious sign with the same hand while it was behind Old Crazy’s back, Plainer than words that signal spoke, yet the excited, gang was loth to hold their hands, al- ready itching to close upon the byron Ay ‘ An ugly muttering ran from lip to lip, lurid glances were interchanged. One word would have sent them at the throats of both men, But that word was not spoken by Cripps, and lack- img a bolder leader, the crowd iustantly fell back a few feet, leaving Old Crazy and the flash- ily-arrayed gambler in the center. ‘“You are right, old chap,” softly smiled Hoover, gently smoothing those disordered locks of almost snow-white hair, ‘‘ He is crazy. They are all crazy save you and I.” ** He spoke of my head, but—I have no head!” ‘* Not with you, that’s clear enough for even a blind man to see!” laughed the gambler, sooth- ingly. ‘*‘ You forgot to screw it in place when you set out for town, of course. And that’s why { did not recognize you and interfere with these crazy knaves before. You know,I never saw you without your head until this evening, and that accounts—” Old Crazy was gazing into his smiling coun- tenance so intently that, despite his boasted nerve and coolness, Joe Hoover felt himself flusbing hotly, his glib tongue growing strange- ly clumsy, until he actually broke down, There was enough in his appearance to excite curiosity, even in that wild and fantastic region, and this is what Old Crazy saw: A man of about thirty years, tall and graceful in build, lithe as a pantber in motion, yet witha muscular development that had taken more | slipped an arm through that of the old : than one reckless ‘‘ chief” by surprise, A perfect blonde, Hoover wore bis hair rather longer than would have been deemed correct in the city of his birth. The sitken threads of pale gold were pushed back of his ears, their curling ends touching the coat-collar behind, His eyes were blue as the skies of summer, large and liquid, generally filled with a sweet, inno- cent, childlike smile, though they could flash fire and fury on occasion. His complexion was marvelously fair, and his skia, smooth and vel- vety as that of an infant, apparently bade de- fiance to the tanning sun and chafing winds from the mountains, His face was a little too long and narrow for strict beauty, and the silken mustache drooping over his lips could not entirely hide the weak- ness of his mouth; yet Joseph Hoover was called handsome, even by those who liked him least, With such a face and figure, and being a gambler by ‘ profession” into the bargain, it is hardly strange that Hoover should have paid more rather than less attention to dress; and though this was what might be called ‘tan off day” with him, there was a startling amount of glare and glitter about his person, when summed up. uP cut and fit his garments were irreproach- able, plainly the handiwork of an artist, and the material as fine as money could procure; but there the eternal fitness of things came to an end, His coat was of a rich bottle-green, His low- cut waistcoat was light salmon. His trowsers more of a lilac than pearl. His long, slender feet were incased in patent leather, From his bosom fell a filmy cascade of finest muslin, daintily embroidered with white silk, in vines and sprays and wreaths of flowers. Across his bosom coiled a massive gold chain, twice doubled. In his shirt gleamed two dia- mond studs, and securing the red scarf slipped around his neck unier his Byroa collar, gleam- ed and sparkled a big brvoch of diamonds, On nearly every finger of his white hands were rings, from plain gold to flashiest jewels, and then—strangest sight of all, considering his sex —he wore earrings! Golden hoops, te lower half of which formed a daintily chased crescent, in the bend of which hung a golden star, set with a diamond, It was this extravagant love of dress and jewelry to which Joseph Hoover owed his sobri- quest of ‘‘Showy Joe,” just as a hardly less marked personal peculiarity led the diggers to dub Cripps ** Rusty Jack.” These two men were close chums, despite the strong contrast between them, dhd in this in- stance Showy Joe seemed to lose his catlike dis- taste for dirt and slovenuliness, The one word “rusty” described Cripps to perfection, His skin, hair, eyes, clothes, all and everything going to form the ruftian, was of dull, rusty brown, On the other hand, the old and seemingly decrepit being whom Jack Hoover called Old Crazy, afforded a study hardly less curious, though after still another fasbion. In more youthful days he hed been tall, above the average of his sex, though his figure was bowed at the shoulders as with the weiglt of many years. His hair, still profuse of growth, fell to his shoulders, joining with his luxuriant beard, the snowy bairs of which reached half way to his waist. His eyes, though sunken deep into their sock- ets, were still bright and keen, showing almost black in the shadows of his shaggy brows. In strange contrast to the rest, these were black as jet. without a silver line in either. His garb was more Indian than civilized, com- posed mainly of smoke-tanned skins, part of them with hair or fur remaining; but the cart- ridge belt about his middle, and the firearms he bore, were plainly modern, the best that gold could procure. Showy Joe Hoover quickly rallied, throwing off that unpleasant premonition, smiling blandly rar liad face of the old man, as he softly mut- tered: ‘ Whisper in my ear where you left it, pard- ner, and we'll go fetch it, together. Then we'll show ’em a head as is a head! Eh?’ ** T've lost mine—” * But we'll find it, won’t we? Come, daddy. Just give me a hint as to the way, and we'll give these dough-boys a holy surprise! They’ll never talk of putting a rope over your head, when once they see what a fine head it is! Why, | daddy, they'll want to set you up ona golden Sen to play king over ’em all! They just will, now : Laughing softly at the fancy, Showy Joe a batt agers e ¥ oa seeking to draw him away, out of the cro¥ but bis rising hopes of complete success weré quickly dashed to the earth, } ‘No! you’re crazy as he —crazier, even!” harshly cried Old Crazy, freeing his arm by a | quick jerk, his dark eyes glittering vividly as he © uplifted a warning band. ‘ Back! tcuch me not! There is a black curse on ajl who even think of keeping my company? Death will surely claim one and all who try to follow m footsteps, or— Back, I warn ye, boy! There’s death and misery in the very shadow I cast!” *¢ But I’m your best friend, daddy,” persisted Showy Joe. ‘¢‘Wriend? 1 have no friends! I lost them | when—when I lost my head! For—I did > lose it, gentlemen,” his voice growing busky as he cast a swift, yet appealing, glance around — bim, finding it again, ’d—I’d be so thankful! For it’s awful—it’s worse than death a thousand fold—this living without a head! If you only knew—” ‘ Durn the head!” growled Rusty Jack, once more attempting to take command, shaking the noosed rope menacingly before that haggard face. ‘* What we want to find is the bonanzy out o’ which you rake them mighty rich hunkso’ © a : yaller pay; Eh, lads?” “* An’ wantin’ means bavin’ ‘ith us, toc!” “Too much talkin’s more’n a-plenty! Time fer actin’, now!” ‘* Make the fool’ critter tell, or send him up a tree!” Their patience worn out at last, the rough customers closed in about that dazed unfortun- ate, a dozen hands gripping his limbs, a score of voices howling for the rope as the surest method of extorting the precious secret they had coveted for so long a time, CHAPTER II. THE LAD OF LUCK, ‘““MaxKE haste slowly, gentlemen!” cried a clear, ringing voice from the outside of that surging mass, ‘* Pick up your manners, before they get trampled all out of shape!” Two of the nearest diggers felt a close grip on their collars, then went spinning backward, to trip and fall with far more force than grace or comfort, ; ‘“‘Cut a swath your own bigness, Poley!’ added that voice, with .the echo of a laugh in each word, ‘* There’s meat in the middle, once the shell is fairly cracked. And—sorry, but— please make room for your uncle, Johnny!” Right and left another brace of amazed fel- lows reeled, though either of them was larger and heavier by far than the owner of those muscular hands, z This made an opening, into which the speaker and his companion plunged, splitting the sur- prised crowd much as a@ Whirlwind forces a pea through a clump of timber, only paus- ng when their goal was fairly won. : ‘Not a blow was struck, ncr a weapon dis- played, It was a simple grip, a swift twist and a shove, It s pure skill in the case of the speaker, but simple strength on the part of his chum, a giant in size and muscular development. é All was accomplished so swiftly that there was no actual resistance on the part of the men they handled so unceremoniously, and be- fore the truth could be fairly realized, Old Crazy stood free of angry hands, the men yet on their feet instinctively shrinking back frona those rescuing beings, 7 Showy Joe Hoover dropped bis white bane from shoulder to belt, bis red lips curling away from his white teeth, bis blue eyes glittering ser- nt-like, even as he visibly shrunk from that euk’ laugbing face as its owner quickly uttered: “« Tf you might only put me in the way of | —-. a “Don’t waste your cartridges, Joseph, I beg _ of you, dear man!” ‘ “What right have you to interfere, when— ‘‘ When I saw forty men climbing all over one poor devil?” a little sharply interrupted the new-comer, though that bright smile was still upon his comely face. “ Well, just for luck! Wasn’t it, Poley?” ' “BE you say 80, boss,” rambled the giant, stolidly glancing Over the scowling faces closing in about them. * Luck goes, then, Joseph!” bee ; ‘* 1 splatter luck all over the grinnin’ mug oO e, Light-heart Lute!” hoarsely growled Rusty Jani Cripps, coming with a vicious rusb, Only so far. . ; ; Napoleon Applejobn took one mighty stride forward, his huge hands grasping the furious ruffian by thigh and sbovulder, heaving him
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ee page a ey eS a] bein Ol TY a eS y "clear of the ground, then hurling him away with a force that knocked over half a dozen of his astonished fellows like tenpins, ; “Set down, critter!” he rumbled, stepping back to his place, his massive countenance placid as ever, onlya brightening glow coming into his sleepy eyes to tell that his sluggish pas- sions were rousing. ‘‘ L’arn to speak when you- *ye spoken to. Afore then is bad manners.” “Plag of truce, gentlemen!” cried Light-heart Lute, lifting an open hand as his keen eyes saw weapons being drawn. ‘‘ We didn’t come here to fight, but simply toask— What in time has this poor old fellow done to deserve such clapper- clawing, any way?” * It’s the Lad o’ Luck, boys!” spluttered one of the roughs, apparently just recognizing the bold intruders, ‘ Let him tackle the old cuss, an’ ef he gits. thar—waal, mebbe some 0’ bit luck’!l Scatt+r onto us—see?” : “Pll scatter his brains so dog-gun tur that—” ‘* You can’t prove ve got any, Rusty Jack,” laughingly interposed Light-heart Lute. ‘‘ Now simmer, or Vl turn my bad luck faucet, and give yousucha bath as you’ve never known since you left your mother’s hands and put on ‘trowsers!” There were ugly looks, but for the most part these were turned toward Cripps, and he was not so mad but that he could recognize the truth in time. The tide had turned in favor of this bright-faced young fellow, as it almost invari- ably did, and though Rusty Jack thirsted for revenge, his lust for gold was still more intense. ** Make him talk up, then!” he growled, sulk- ily. ‘‘ What right hes the likes o’ him keepin’ sech a oy soi find all to his own hoggish self? ‘Make him tell whar be gits all his nuggets!” ‘“* Soother him down, an’ butther him up, laddy- buck! Sure, it’s only the lingth av our arrums we want todip into the treasure-box he’s got stowed away in the hills beyant!” From lip to lip the cry ran around, always the same in substance, though different in shape. The gold-fever was burning in their veins, and only gold. or blood could quench their mad thirst, Light-heart Lute let his eyes pass from one to another as those varying appeals were made. The bright smile faded out of his fave. His red | lips compressed. A clear, almost stern glow stole into his frank blue eyes. To turn toa look of pitying <tins 7 tend as he looked once more in- to that haggard face so near his shoulder. He seemed very youthful to have such an important case on his hand, and, to tell the simple truth, he hardly knew how to manage it for the best, He could not have seen more than twenty years, at the outside, and thanks to his boyish face, smooth and fair as that of a girl, he ap- peared even younger than he really was. And yet—when closely scanned, one could not help recognizing in him a man, In height he was barely up to the average, and in his loose sack coat, without vest over his flannel shirt, he seemed rather light of frame. Yet he weighted clean ten stone, every ounce of which was sound, healthy matter, full of nerve and sinew as an eggshell is of meat, He was acomparatively new-comer in that region, but during those few short weeks, Luther Larrimer had made his mark, as well as wona valuable reputation as a favorite of fortune, Despite his bright, gay, off-hand manner, there was something about Light-heart Lute, as his giant chum habitually called him, which kept the inquisitive at a distance, and they learned little more concerning his business than Napo- leon Applejobn saw fit to communicate. That was not much, They had no particular business in view. They were simply “ prospect- ing,” always open for a lucky stroke of business in case any such Opportunity should offer. Who was he? Light-heart Lute, the lad of luck. Good-by, sir! ‘“‘It’s the same old song, then?” asked Light- heart Lute, his red lip curling with scorn. ‘* For shame, men! Every one of you stout, able- bodied fellows, and he a poor, broken-down old man! Go find your own bonanzas, and let him go his way in peace,” ‘That's jest what we want him to do!” grimly cried out one of the men, with a coarse iaugh. “* But he won’t doit, They ain’t no more go in him than in a dug-gun, contrairy mule,” “‘ Because he knows you intend dogging him home.” “Because I know that they would follow me to their deaths!” vehemently cried Old Crazy, festiculating fiercely. ‘* Because they are worse than the crazy fool they call me! Because there is grim death or living torture still more bitter, in the very shadow my figure casts on the earth! Veprek aly ne Cra SA TPT AT eT a : sees PR ey te Dor aie fee eg ts eres fae It is for their own sakes I refuse to speak out what they seek to learn.” ‘* We'll run the resk, mighty quick, old man!” ‘“¢Not wita my consent.’ ‘* Give him a tetch o’ the rope, an’ mabbe it’ll loosen his clapper, mates!” snarled one of the more impatient ruffians. ‘*Steady, pards!” nodd2d Light-heart Lute. ‘* Don’t lev your clapper ring too loud a note. Don’t you know; the very worst use you can put a man to is to hang him?” ‘‘Oh, make a break, somebody! What’s the use chawin’ wind this-a-way? Hyar’s the rope, yender’s a tree, an’—thar’s room a-plenty in the atmospheric fer all three to do tha’r kickin’ *thout interferin’ with each other!” “ Hang me, ye fools?” cried Old Crazy, tossing back his tangled locks inasnowy cloud, bursting into a harsh, hollow laugh which betrayed far more of bitterness than of mirth. ‘*‘Hang me— the man without a head¢ What will you hitcb the rope to? Bah! ye crazy loons!” “Got you, there, hasn’t he?” Jaughed Light- heart Lute. ‘‘ Without a knob to hold it on, what good’s your noose?” ‘“‘Run him up by the heels, then! ’Tain’t death we're a’ter, but talk! Talk an’ a promise to guide us to his big find—no less!” ‘“To your death, rather!” frowned Old Crazy, plucking nervously at his beard with bony fin- gers. ‘*My very shadow blights all it falls across!) And would ye dare a living death just for a few paltry bits of worthless dross?” ‘“ Tf it isso worthless, daddy, why not give us a show fora share?’ sneered Hoover, who had fallen back, listening in place of acting. ‘* Possibly because he fancies that share would swallow up the whole,” laughed Light-heart Lute. ** Menof your profession bring mighty sticky fin- gers to the feed-trough, es a rule, Joseph.” “Never you mind my fingers, lad. It sim- mers down to just this: the secret must be shared with us, sooner or later. He’s dodged us all on two different occasions when we let him go in peace, thinking to trace him to the end without kicking up a row. Now—we'’ve got him in our clutches, and he’s either got to sing or—croak |!” ‘* An’ thar’s only one sure way fer to yank a tune out o’ sech a bull-headed critter!” growled Rusty Jack, shaking aloft his noosed rope. ‘He talks of my head—have you seen it lying around lo se anywhere, my son?” faltered Old Mystery, placing an unsteady hand on an arm of his generous defender, his cyes filled with a pleading, wistful light, his ears unheeding those ominous mutterings among the crowd, ‘‘ Will you trust me, if I try to find it for you, daddy?” softly asked Lute, a glow of honest sympathy in his own eyes. ‘Talk up, thar!’ suspiciously cried Rusty Jack, gathering courage as he found the tide turning his way once more. “ He’s tryin’ to git at the secret fer bim own self, boys! Shell we stan’ that?” : ‘Fair play! No skullduggery!” With a proud toss of his head, Light-heart Lute faced those ugly scowls, actually seeming to glory in the peril, though bis empty hands were resting lightly across his middle. ‘* Daddy hinted that you were lacking brains, gentlemen, and I’m beginning to think he wasn’t so mighty far astray in hisguess, You've heard him give bis reasons for not singing; it’s bad medicine to step in bis tracks,” ‘We'll run all that resk, never you skeer, Lucky Lad!” . ‘And there you paint my portrait, in two words,” with a low, amused iaugh, his eyes glowing with a curious mixture of mirth and contempt. ‘‘ Now, wouldn’t you be the crazy fools be calls you, to tackle both sorts of luck— bad luck and good luck?” ‘ Rusty Jack Cripps dropped his rope, his burly form shrinking into itself, so to speak, as he stoodbehind one of his mates. He saw that neither Lute nor Poley Apple- john were touching a weapon, though each was well supplied in that line, And slipping a re- volver from its holster under cover, he sudden- ly pushed bis mate to one side as he brought his cocked pistol to a level, the sights bearing full upon the swelling bosom of the Lad of Luck. ‘¢ Whar’s your luck now, dug-gun ye, critter?” he snarled, viciously showing bis yellow teeth. “Stiddy, all two both o’ ye! [il blow ye through at the fu’st move!” “Steady, Poley!” coolly cried Light-heart Lute, throwing out one band to the moving arm of his giant chum. ‘‘The fool dare not shoot!” af Pll mash every bone in yer body ef'ye harm a! ih zy. the Man Without a Head. ** Didn’t I tell ye so, Rusty?” laughed the Lad of Luck, as Cripps pulled trigger, only to have the hammer stop at half-cock. ‘‘ A miserable sinner like you can’t hurt a Christian, and—Z knew it !” With a savage curse Rusty Jack dropped the faithless weapon to snatch at its mate in his belt. But as the pistol struck the ground, it ex- ploded, and with a wild yell of bitter agony, its owner reeled back, a victim of his own deadly attempt at assassination! CHAPTER III. BETTER HALF A LOAF THAN NO BREAD. THOSE who had been watching the chums rather than the ruffian, shrunk back at that ex- plosion and yell, thinking, even while their eyes told them better, that from one or the other of the twain that avenging shot had come, And as they fell away, they drew tbeir pistols, act- ing according to the blind instinct which gov- erns in such cases. ‘* Steady, gents!” cried Light-hearted Lutein sbarp, clear tones. ‘‘ You chip in if you're aching to share his bad luck.” “The p’izen critter shot bis own self, didn’t he?” rumbled Poley Applejohn, in his deepest chest-notes. “‘Crippled! oh, just look at that!’ fairly screamed Rusty Jack, lifting his right band where all could see it, blood sprirkling over its owner in a scarlet shower. ‘*Cuss him! He put a hoodoo onto it!” By some strange chance the lead from bis own weapon had struck his hand, tearing through the knuckles, shattering the bonesin a terrible manner, Young Larrimer saw his chance, and made the most of it. ‘*T gave you fair warning, Rusty Jack Cripps, but you would buck against fate. Now—do you want to risk another shot at the Lad of Good Luck?” * Crippled! My right hand! Gone—crippled fer life!” groaned the burly rvffian, completely subdued by the mishap which had befallen. ‘Hasn't he got a friend in all your gang?” called forth Lute, bis brows darkening as he saw how superstitiously the rest fell away from the luckless ruffian. ‘All right; Pll bind up bis hurt myself, Even if he did catch it trying to shoot me, I can’t stand by and watch the poor devil bleed to death,” “They'll jump on the back o’ ye, boss!” warned Poley, catching his friend by the shoul- der and checking his forward movement, Light-hearted Lute did not resist, but yielded to that friendly caution, for several of the crowd closed in about the wildly raving man with well-meant advice and offers of assistance, As he saw this, Lute cast a glance in search of the prime cause of al] the trouble, more than half-expecting to find him among the missing; but not so, Old Crazy stood crouchingly, his bony hands hiding his tace, his white locks falling in a vail below his wrists. 1t was an attitude that strongly resembled fright, yet his frame seemed rigid, and he certainly did not tremble, ight-heart Lute bardly knew what to do with bis ‘‘ white elephant,” now he bad taken possession of it. He had acted on the impulse of the moment, catching sight of a crowd abus- ing one man; but with his hand once to the plow, he was not one to abandon the furrow midway. ‘‘1'm sorry for you, Rusty,” he called out, in- tent on making the most of that strange chance, **T warned you frankly, but you wouldn’t hear to the simple truth, Now—who’s the next man to buck against the Lad of Luck?” : ‘* Divil the wan 0’ me, so ye naadn’t luuk this way, d’ye moind, now!” spluttered Patsy Mce- Keon, ducking behind his own elevated elbow. “None of us, unless you try to get away with the whole soup,” another chimed in, with blunt honesty, ‘ But we're bound to have a finger in the rich pie Old Crazy bas kept to himself so long—just bound to, you understand?” “Rusty Jack Cripps sung that same tune, and vou saw what came of it,” grimly laughed the Lad of Luck. “ That’s through his fool’s notién of convert- ing a revolver into a dueling pistol, and only doing his work half-way; filing down the top- noteb to a shadow, to make a bair-trigger of his guo! I always told him he’d have to either file out the other, or else change his touch to an honest pull; but he wouldn’t have it that way! So—there you stand, and yonder he goes!” “‘ Heap sight luckier then be’d orter be that he kin go, ’thout bein’ toted in a box!” rumbled Poley Applejobn, frowning portentously, ‘ Ef Twas boss—”
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r * ia — 3 Rt tate & ‘The hand he dared lay upon what he called my head—poor, blind, crazed fool!” suddenly and following them with his wild eyes, ‘‘’Tis part of the curse placed upon me by—who? Could any spirit less cruel than Lucifer so terribly afflict a mortal? Could— Wheream I? What does— Chiquita!” ; His tones grew husky and choked. His form bowed, his hands dropped to his bosom, quiver- ing and shaking 4s with a palsy. A frigbtened, hunted light came into his sunken eyes, and he looked such a pitiful object that Light-beart Lute placed a protecting, caressing hand upon his shiveriug back. | “She’s coming, daddy.” he hastily spoke, soothingly, much as one might address a fright- ened child, ‘“*TVll take care of you until then, so don’t be afraid! Nobody’s going to hurt you, here.” **Coax it out of him, then, Lucky,” eagerly nodded the miner. ‘* We'll let bim bave a fair show to stake out his claim, on the pick of the lead, but—he’s got to share the pudding, you mind!” There was no immediate response, for Lurri- mer was glancing from face to face as his keen ears caught those grim inutterings, all tending the same way, The peculiar accident which had* happened to one of their number bad only cowed those turbulents spirits for the moment, They might not return to such harsh measures #s used by Rusty Jack, but none the less they were determined to learu the whole truth of the yrecious secret so long guarded by Old Crazy. Lute’s brain worked rapidly, and be was not long in summing up the case as it seemed to stand, Though he was a recent comer into that section, he knew his men as well as though he bad spent a year among them, If it had been nothing more than a simple ‘lucky find” at stake, he would have bluntly advised making the best of a bad bargain, and save further trouble by letting the covetous gang into thesecret. But—was there nothing more precious at stake? ‘* Don’t let ’em sneak off ’thout coming to a squar’ onderstandin’, mates!” cried out a sus- picious rascal, ‘ Cain’t ye see he’s workin’ fer his own pocket, leavin’ us to hold the bag?” ‘Steady, Poley! And you, fellows,” his tones growing hard and cold as ice as he flashed a glance over those scowling faces, ‘‘ keep your distance, You ought to know who I am by this time. You know where t» look for me when the right time comes, and—” ¥ ve don’t slip off under kiver o’ night!” ‘*Tf I take to running, it'll] be from a man, so that lets you out, Bill Hurst. As for the rest— I’ve only been playing, up to now; dare to crowd us, and I’ll buckle down to work ! Slipping a hand through one arm of his strangely won charge, gripping a cocked re- volver with the other, bis actions silently imitat- ed by Napoleon Applejobn, Light-heart Lute moved away from the spot. 4 pa er | in part, part coaxing, the covetous miners fell aside to give them free passage. Not a band was lifted to stay their steps. It seemed as though one and all were in super- stitious dread of the good luck which had once more befriended the young man. Old Crazy made no resistance, silently mitting the chums to guide him whither they listed, his recent fire quenched, bis still mus- cular frame shivering pitiably. He looked like ope who had just through some terrible ordeal which had compeletely sapped his powers, mental as well as bodily. tal? Instead of striking out for the not distant town, Lighted-heart Lute turned toward the hills, pausing near the base of one, where a few scattered trees afforded some little shelter to those who needed it. Wher they came toa halt, Old Crazy sunk to the ground, bis head drooping, faint mutterings } rising to his lips. With a strangely grave light : in his eyes, Light-heart Lute bent close, trying ‘ ; in vain to catch his meaning. His own pulse was beating with unwonted rapidity, and bis usually clear brain was grow- ing clouded, For—a strange, thrilling belief was gradually growing upon him! And yet— was it more than one of the many frail ho which had appeared, only to fade as suddenly, since that blind quest bad begun? Drawing back a bit, he held out a hand to- 4 ward his chum. Poley Applejohn as silently lugged forth a metal flask containing Wome: and Lute, gentle as a father coaxing a fre ul ehild, soon induced Old Crazy to swallow a jiberal draught of the fiery liquor. ‘This wee quickly did its work, and for the first timetince that howling gang closed in LIED Sh = Ae es nn ee ey SST. ee en rr erm ot broke forth Old Crazy, flinging up his hands | : Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. about him, the old prospector regained his normal condition, looking, acting and speaking like a sane man, Though the sun had set, and dusk was coming on, Light-heart Lute took his own time, fearing to rush matters lest that shattered brain again give way and dash his new-born hopes to the ground, Cautiously, in soothing, easy tones, he ques- tioned Old Crazy, gradually drawing the whole truth from him, so far as his adventure with the mob under lead of Rusty Jack and Showy Joe was concerned. There was not much tw tell, aid little which was new tothe Lad of Luck. The lively mining- town had talked of little during the past two days but Old Crazy and the\rich pack he had brought into town from his secret bonanza. Just as he bad on other occasions, the strange being entered town under cover of darkness, He was patiently waiting in front of the little office where held forth the moneyed man who was ever ready to buy dust or nuggets, pros- pect Loles or developed claims, anything and everything in which he saw a chance to ‘‘ make wages,” Word swiftly spread that ‘‘ Old Crazy” had once more come to town with a mule-load of dust, and for at least the third time oaths were taken that his secret should Lecome pub- lic property. ‘* And 1 can’t see how you can keep them out of it, daddy,” slowly said Light-heart Lute, staring into the little fire which Poley had kindled for both warmth and lighv. ‘*They’ll watch you closer than a hungry cat watching a fat mouse! They’ll dog you until— well, if they don’t find the bonanza, you'll find a grave!” “That’s what!” gravely nodded the giant, his face showing dimly through a cloud of to- bacco smoke, ** And so—surely, daddy, half ‘a loaf is bet- ter than no bread at all! You’ve made a tol- erable strike already, if rumor don’t lie. So, why not make the best of a bad bargain, and let the gang have what stray pickings they can rake up around your own solid claim?” ‘* Never!” sharply cried Old Crazy, bis eyes gleaming vividly. ‘1 will not! It would be robbing her—my little Chiquita!” ‘* Your daughter, do you mean?” slowly asked Light-heart Lute, a curious shade falling over his frank countenance. ‘‘ How old is she?’ **Tt’s hers—all hers, I tell you! They shall never— Are you one of the vile thieves, too?” sudden suspicion showing itself in face and voice, ‘ Are you playing against me?” ‘*Look me squarely iu the eyes, then say if you believe I’m playing you false,” calmly spoke Larrimer, catching one of those bovy hands, leaning forward until the ruddy glow fell athwart his own face. ‘‘ Take your time, daddy; the whole night’s before us. Look, and read. You're old enough tg recognize a friend when you meet one, surely.” Old Crazy complied, for a few seconds. Then his keen gaze dimmed and his eyes drooped, bis voice faint and uucertain as be spoke: **Friend—I once believed in such a term, but that was long ago: ages ago, before I lost my head! Now—I can’t think! I_can only see my little— She's calling tome! Hist!” Involuntarily Light-heart Lute | eg in the paren direction, expecting—he dly knew what, But nothing came, All was still, save for a dull, distant murmur proceeding from the town beyond, And as he seemed to realize this, Old Crazy drew a deep breath, tossing back his tangled locks like one who seeks to banish an idle fancy. Luther Larrimer, with something of that wild hope returning, caught at his chance, and made the most of it, Tats “eed friend, if you'll let me be one, daddy; and as a true friend should, I’m point- ing out the plain truth to youreyes and brain. As that friend, I say again, in still plainer words; you’ve got to give up part of your bonanza, or the whole of it!” _—. CHAPTER IV. ‘‘MUSIC HATH CHARMS.” Hz reached out a hand, but Old Crazy shrunk nioly back, jerking a pistol from his belt and menacing the Lad of Luck with the weapon, ‘** Back, I warn ye, boy !”*he almost viciousl » his eyes glittering keenly. ‘I’m old, ut I’m tough! Tl fight for my—for her rights!” nstead of dodging or atcempting to shield himself, Light-heart Lute broke out into a low, | amused laugh, like one who saw nothing more dangerous in this action than a merry jest. ‘“Why, daddy, have you forgotten so soon? From the way you act, one’d think you took me tor a kuight of the road, with his stand and de- iver! ‘“* Then you don’t—you said—” ‘*That you’d show your wisdom by giving a share of your bonanza to those rough alleys, rather than have them cabbage the whole cake,” “T thought you meant—if I might only trust you!” “Why can’t you?” with earnest interest as he gently took that armed hand captive, quietly replacing the pistol in its holster. “I'm only a boy in years, but ve been a man for years: ever since I set out in quest of—but never mind that just now,” hastily catching up his tongue, giving a nervous little laugh. ‘Then you're looking for something, too? muttered Old Crazy, in low, busky tones, lean- ing forward and gazing intently into those <a ‘Tt isn’t—you haven’t lost your head also?” ‘“‘T came pretty vigh it just then,” with o short, forced laugh, ‘*May a merciful Heaven preserve you from such a horrible fate as that!” shivered the strange being, shrinking away, seemingly hurt by that sound of mirth, “If you could only begin to guess what it means to lacka head! If ou—” ‘If I had as uoble a heac as the one you carry above your shoulders this moment, daddy, I’d take mighty good care of it, be sure,” was the quick response, cutting short that dangerous cur- rent of thougbt just in time. “And I’m doing my level best to preserve yours, too, daddy, though you don’t seem to fully appreciate the fact, He paused as though to collect his thoughts, broken in upon by that outburst of crazy sus- picion, speaking slowly, the more surely to gain full comprebension from that shattered brain, ‘Put in simple shape, the situation is just this, daddy: You’ve got a secret far too rich for any one man to keep forever to himself, so Jong as there’s hundreds of poor devils who can’t. makeftheir grub at mining bereabouts. It was all right so long as the secret was wholly your own, but now that the boys have dropped to your mighty good luck, they’ll overturn moun- tains, but what they’ll have a share in the find. “Tf Pye caught the story aright, you’ve given them the _ twice before this. Then you were twice as lucky as most men, and it would be too much to hope for lightning to strike in the same spot once more, ‘¢ Now here’s the meat: Which can you better afford to do: give up a share, in order to save the rest, or lose the whole—and your life with it?” “T's not mine. It’s hers—all hers!” muttered Old Crazy, sullenly, his eyes downcast. “By which you mean—your wife?” ‘*T have no wife.” ‘* Your daughter, then?” “‘ Chiquita—it’s all bers, I tell you, boy!” ‘Then Chiquita will have to work the bonan- za hy her lonesome self, for you'll never return to her side while you hold out like this!” “‘ Never—but I must/ She will be watching and longing for my coming! Sbe counts the hours when—I must go—now But that muscular hand checked his effort to arise, and Light-heart Lute hurriedly added, in grave, impressive tones: ‘Tf you leave this camp-fire alone, in the dark, ow’ll never see the sun rise, daddy! Those ras- cals would kill you for the wealth you carry, if og to torture the richer secret from your ps tes ; ; “I'can give them the slip, just as I did be- ore, “That worked twice, they say, but it will never work again, Can’t you understand it, daddy?” with wonderful patience for a stranger who could have no. particular love for such a wretched being. ‘“*‘ You can’t take a single step without its being known. I dare say a full score of hungry eyes are upon us both this very in- stant, their Owners only holding back in hopes of getting at your precious secret, through me,” ‘Yet you ask me to trust you?” ‘Because there is nothing else for you to do, if you care to live long enough to see Chiquita once more,” with a low, easy laugh that went far to cover his actual apprehension. “TI can save you from those hungry wolves on two legs, but I'll have to do it after my own fashion, if at all, And I’m helpless without you can place at we a little confidence in my good intentions, addy. “ What is it you wish?” ;
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“Tell me where your find is located, or, better still, promise on honor that you will guide me 4nd my chum to the spot where Chiquita is awaiting your return.” ‘“She—why are you so anxious to see her? W hat do you know of my little girl?” ‘‘ Nothing more than you have let drop, and that’s simply the fact of her existence,” with an- other low, easy laugh. ‘1 wouldn’t know ber from a side of sole-leatber 1f we were suddenly put face to face. And, saving your presence, daddy, I care just as much about meeting her. Vm simply thinking of you, and your wel- fare.” ** Why are you so anxious to serve me, then that old suspicion flaming up afresh in his sunken eyes. : ‘* Because—I once had a father, wandering among the gold hills, who may have felt the need of a true-hearted friend, just as you ought to feel that need this hour, daddy,” was the earnest re- sponse, that frank, tionest voice trembling a bit,~. though it quickly steadied itself. ‘* Because my father may have perished miserably for lack of @ warning voice, or a helping hand, just as I now extend to you. Because—” ‘ Shut out of this conversation, Napolson Apple- jobn had finished his pipe, and seeing no signs of a break io that talk, he lay back at the base of the sheltering tree, and producing a mouth- organ from an inner pocket, began to play soft notes upon it, If was this faint, almost ghost-like music that caused Light-heart Lute to abruptly cease speaking. Not because of an especial love for music in itself, though, be had spent many hours in practicing for an all important end; but at the first notes Old Crazy bent his half- turned head, fairly holding his breath as he drank in these notes, ‘Louder, pard!” softly spoke Light-heart 9”? Lute, his own breath coming far more rapidly than ordinary, bis eyes glowing strangely as he , bent forward the more closely to watch that rapt expression stealing into the haggard face of Old Crazy. Had fortune favored bim at last? Was his long, weary, almost hopeless quest nearing its glorious end? These questions flashed back and forth through his brain as he sat watching Old Crazy, hoping, longing, fearing, doubting, all in turn, as he noted those swift changing expressions. Without questioning why this order was given, Poley played on, content in the harmony he was giving birth to, asking for no other re- ward. *“ Now—strike up ‘When you and I were young, Maggie!” were the next words spoken by Larrimer, At the first note of the old song, Old Crazy gave a start, lifting bis head and casting a bur- ried glance around them, as though he more than half expected to catch sight of —what? ** Can it—surely it must be!” thought the Lad of Luck, with difficulty restraining his tumultuous emotions. As Poley proceeded with his music, Old Crazy bowed his head, both hands clasping bis temples as though the better to concetrate his powers of hearing. Or—was he trying toremember? Was he striving to recall the dim, phantom past, partly conjured up by those long-forgotten notes? Wondering thus, Light-heart Lute joined his voice to the organ at the second verse, singing low and _ softly, as much like a woman as pos- sible. But instead of the effect he hoped for, he searcely knew why, his mellow tones seemed to ’ break the spell which had fallen upon his strange guest of the night. With a start and puzzled gaze around, Old Crazy lifted his arms and stretched, yawning heartily, then moved across to one of the trees on the other side of the fire, lying down and turning the cape of bis buckskin hunting-shirt up over his bare head, like one wishing to go to sleep for the night. ‘*Hadn’t we better go back to town, daddy?” asked Lute, choking back his bitter disappoint- ment at this unexpected ending to his experi-, ment. ‘‘ Without blankets or bedding, I fear you'll take cold lying there.” : “Go, if you like, No roofs for me,” sleepily -mumbled the old man, ““Where you sleep, there’s good enough for me, daddy,” cheerfully laughed Larrimer, drop- ping down beside the veteran, ‘ But you didn’t: ve me a fair answer, a bit ago: will you trust me to act for your good—and the good of Little big pa me—sleepy—so sleepy!” faintly mut- tered the Iiner, a shiver running over his frame, followed “almost immediately by low, regular 2 breathing that told of slumber strangely pro- found, ‘* Waal, ef he ain’t a case of a critter, then I wouldn’t say so!” Light-heart Lute gave a start at that low ejaculation, though it came in the familiar tones of his giant chum, who had put’ away his cherished moutb-organ and was now staring wide-eyed at that sleeping figure. ** [ say, boss, you don’t really reckon— He hes got a head onto his shoulders, hain’t he, now?” **A head, surely, pard, but,” with a faint sigh that partly betrayed how full of trouble bis own head was, ‘‘I fear the brain is— Never mind, old fellow!” giving himself a shake, ** We’re in for a snooze with plenty of stars on our counterpane, I reckon!” **?Twon’t be the fu’st time, an’ ef you ain’t kickin’, boss, I hain’t no cali that way. But— poor them imps’l! try any tricks on travelers, ute?” ‘** Not as long as they see the old man in our company, be sure of that,” with a short, mean- ing laugh, ‘ They count on our getting at the secret for them, don’t you see?” * Fer I'd jest as soon keep all eyes open as not, ye mind, Lute.” ‘*T know you would, old fellow, but I hardly think there’s any ueed of standing guard. If there is, Pll rouse you out for your turn when I crow sleepy. Lie down and make the best of an empty bargain, eh, old free-feeder?” ** Tt’s jest pullin’ the belt a hole tighter,” with a philosophical laugh, as he suited his action to the words, ‘* Which is the wisdom o’ stuffin’ the hold chuck-full when ye hev the chance— see?” Light-heart Lute made no answer, already lost in deep and troubled thought, and seeing as much, Napoleon Applejohn lay down on bis face, his head resting on his crossed arms, readily dropping off asleep. Not so with his chum, For more than an bour he sat on his crossed legs beside the fire, think- ing, hard and deeply. It would take far too long to record his thoughts as they came into his busy brain, but the frequent glances which he cast toward Old Crazy told plainly enough that the strange miner had at least a share in those troubled musings. After a long time, Light-heart, first bending close over Old Crazy, to make sure he was really sleeping, and not in a stupor, suggested by the suddenness with which tbat sleepy spell came upon him, lay down not far from the replenish- ed fire, gazing dreamily up at the brightly twinkling stars bigh overbead, Even then he had no expectation of falling asleep, and for perhaps an hour longer his ex- cited brain kept up its busy work, if work such strange, confused imaginings could be called, Then—a strange spell of an altogether different sort seemed to fall upon him; a spell the nature of which he could no more comprehend than he could— Ha! He brought one arm from under his head, dropping it by his side. And as he did so, a sharp skir-r-r sounded in his ears, and he caught sight of a snake’s bead rising between his arm and bis body! CHAPTER V. A LIFE FOR A HAND, Wir nerve and spirit broken as completely as his strong right band had been shattered by that providential shot, Rusty Jack Cripps was led from the scene by the men who bad been Se ag into action by the words of the Lad of uneck, Even to their coarse, hardened notures, it was pitiful to hear the once strong, domineering ruffian mourning his ruined member, at times sobbing like an aggrieved child as he held up bis hand before his eyes, ‘Crippled! No good any more! My best— why didn’tit blow my durn fool’ head off in- stead?” ‘Think who you owe it all to, Jack!” came a low, hissing whisper in his ear, a8 a white band stole through bis arm, : The crippled ruffian gavea start, his sound hand dashing the mist from his bloodshot ayes, A harsh, pecnliar note rose in his throat as he recognized the face of Showy Joe Hoover, and for a brief space something of bis usual spirit returned to voice and manner. “ To you, dug-gun ye fer asneak, Joe Hoover!” he snarled, whirling half around and swinging his sound hand in a savage stroke at the gam- bler’s bead, ‘ Only fer you—an’ when the pinch eas you dipped tail an’ skunked clear out of With a neat ducking of his head, Showy Joe let that iron first shoot over his shoulder, then 4, Net : Wied ae a P Keto tend . 7 hentia ag finitely Lae a ; 6s Mae SIT Se et Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. | 5 catching the hand he turned just far enough to bring Rusty Jack’s arm across bis slightly bent back, passing his own free arm around the crip- pled man’s body, thus lending him double sup- port, It was all doneso deftly, so smoothly, that even those who had been aiding Rusty Jack in his retreat could hardly realize that anything like a blow had been offered. Cripps himself was surprised into yielding, and for the moment forgot bis crippled hand in listening to those hastily whispered words, ** What could I do with the whole crowd turned against us by your own fool’ action, pard? Only make a bad mater worse. While now—I can and will help you toget even with that cursed fraud who calls himself—” Rusty Jack gave a bitter groan, and made a drunken lurch. ‘The devil’s on his side fer luck! How else could— Cuss the gun that went back on me! Cuss the lead that—crippled!” as he once more hited the wounded member before his wildly glaring eyes, then gave a howling curse of grieving rage as he shook off the gouts of stiffening blood, Using as much baste as he could command, Showy Joe Hoover sought aid for his injured chum, and by his whispered advice the doctor gave Rusty Jack a sedative potion disguised in a draught of whisky, then did his level best to convince bis patient that so far from being crip- pled for life, his good right hand would be as sound and serviceable as ever in the course of a few weeks, if instructions were strictly followed. Uuder this double dose, Rusty Jack grew calmer and more like his usual self, but as he watched the dressing of bis wound; as he traced the course of the avenging bullet from knuckle to knuckle across the back of his hand; as he saw splinter after splinter of bone picked out and dropped as useless; as he saw how perfectly helpless bis four fingers were; those very means helped bim to realize the bitter truth. “That’s more’n a-plenty, Doc,” be growled, cutting bis physician short as the medical man tried to administer another dose. ‘I reckon it’s part o’ yer trade to lie, but I ain’t all a fool. Now—will I even bev the full an’ free use 0’ them hooks?” ‘Well, I trust—” ‘* Will I ever hev the full an’ free use o’ them hooks, I ax ye?” The doctor glanced across to where Showy Joe was standing, and the gambler gave a curt nod, ‘‘T can’t promise that mucb, Mr. Cripps, but—” ** Kin you promise anything? my hand even?” ‘““Tll do my best, sir, but—to be perfectly frank—” ‘* You say, pard!” growled Rusty Jack, turn- ing toward Hoover. ‘‘ Doe cain’t talk straight ef it was to kill him. You say: what’s the show?” “None at all for the fingers, pard, And I reckon you'll double your chances of coming through all right if you’d let Doc make a smooth stump of it.” “That means to whack cff the hull hand?’ slowly demanded the injured rvffian, glancing from face to face. Hoover nodded assent, and thus set at eocrey the doctor volubly gave his reasons for so think- ing. Rusty Jack was a hard drinker, and bis blood was inabad condition, If left with a simple dressing such as this, fever was almost certain to ensue, and with a wound of that description once inflamed, scmetbing even worse than amputation of the fingers might have to be endured. E So far Rusty Jeck listened, but then his fierce passions broke loose, causing even Showy Joe to shrink away and instinctively look for an avenue of escape by flight should the storm take a more dangerous sbape than words and curses alone, , “ Armpetate the head ©’ me ef ye’ve got to ampetate ary thing,” be panted, when the beat : ‘ of his rage was past. But I'll stick to my band as long’s my band’ll stick to me! I'll never hev it cut off—never while thet cussed Lad o’ Luck is top o’ the airtb, anyway!” Satisfied that nothing more could be done, after this outburst, the doctor gave the custom- ary cautions, then went his way, leaving the two pards together. , But little more passed between them, Rusty Jack was divided between cursing Light-heart Lute and bewailing his crippled hand, now fiercely swearing to never know rest or sleep until he had played even, then cursing his faith- less pistol for not having sent its lead through brain instead of knuckles. Kin you save q { ; “i { , a , ‘
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f ’ Showy Joe said just enough to suit bis pur- pose, then took his departure, promising to send fn some one to keep Rusty Jack company for the night. Cripps caught at those words, growl- ing: a I don’t want no comp’ny, but—reckon them cussed pards bev run the old fraud off, yit?” “Meaning Old Crazy?’ smiled Showy Joe. “That’s just what [’'m going to find oat, if I ean. I hardly think the boys will let them give us all the slip, after what’s happened, but—I’ll come back as soon as I find out the state of the case, Rusty.” He was as good as his word, returning within the hour, to clearly describe the spot where the three frisnds had settled down for the night, adding with apparent carelessness: ‘They act as though there was no hereafter, and from their merry laughter I hardly think their consciences will keep them from sleeping soundly for the rest of the night. Well, if Light-heart Lute might choke to death on one of his snores, maybe tbhere’d be more luck left for the rest of us poor devils!” Without waiting for a reply, Showy Joe left the room, laughing in his sleeve as he felt that all was going as well as could be expected. * Rusty won’t sleep, with that bunch of nettles for a pillow, and if Luther Larrimer does—well, Tl bave enough of the boys looking ou to prove a good alibi for Joseph, anyway!” eft to himself, his wound, and the flask of strong brandy which Showy Joe had so con- siderately forgotten, Rusty Jack tried hard to bring his unruly brain under subjection, but with miserable success. Those parting words kept ringing in his ears, the picture drawn by them would persist in dancing before bis burning eyeballs. Here he crouched, a cripple for life! He, who had depended for years on that good right hand to keep himself up and his enemiesdown. He, who had never admitted any other law than that of the strong rigbt hand. And now— crippled! “ An’ him out yender, laughin’! Him out yen- der, sleepin’ like—” Savage rage choked his voice, and to moisten his parched throat, be drained the flask, hurliog it across the room with a vicious snarl of anger that it should be so soon exhausted. But there had been enough to still further in- flame his evil passions, and hotter grew his rag3 against Light-heart Lute, without whose au- dacious interference this awful calamity would never have befallen him. ** An’ him sleepin’! Him Jaughin’! Him count- in’ on skimmin’ the yaller cream off 0’ the— An’ me this way!” he half groaned, balf snarled, holding up his bandaged hand, through every fiber of which a maddening pain was shooting and quivering until it seemed as though he must go raving distracted, Once he drew the revolver which remained in his belt, staring into its grim muzzle, with thumb on bammer and finger on trigger. Would it not be better to end all with a singleshot? Could what lay beyond the divide be worse than what he would have to endure here upon earth, now he was a helpless cripple? Then, as a vision of the slumbering Lad of Luck flasied back on his distorted brain, Rusty Jack leveled the weapon at a blotch on the wall, not larger than a human heart. And as he saw how unwaveringly the silver bead held to its center, a low, ugly chuckle rose in his throat. “ Bf I could hold it so stiddy—an’ on his black heart—-an’ let’er off with a stiddy pull, not jerk! Why not? In that one instant his evil resolve was taken, and though he lingered to repeat his motions: icking out different blotches on the wall, test- ing bis nerves by aiming, now swiftly as fora snap shot, now deliberately as though taking aim ata motionless if not unconscious target, never again did Rusty Jack falter in his vicious resolution to fully avenge bis mutilation before another sun should arise. With any less terrible end in view, his actions would have seemed almost childish; with that, thev were hideously repulsive, Pulling his hat far over his eyes, and slipping botb sling and bandaged hand under cover of his coat, Rustly Jack blew out the light and left the building. The cool breeze from the hills caused his liquor and rage-inflamed brain to whirl dizzily fora few moments, but by leaning against the wall, in densest shadow, he quickly conquered this. As soon as he felt steady enough, the wounded roffian crept along under cover, avoiding every light, lying low whenever he caught sight of man or men passing along, wisbing to leave town without any eyes noting his passage, though he knew he could plead bis crippled condition as an alibi should any ugly questions arise over the death of his hated enemy. Although be had spoken with so much appa- rent carelessness, Showy Joe Hoover had taken care to make Rusty Jack fully understand where the pards had gone into camp with Old Crazy in charge, and the assassin need lose no time in idle search, Clearing the town without meeting any incon- venient witness, Rusty Jack stole silently to- ward that point, his eyes roving restlessly around in all directions, for he felt almost cer- tain that some of the gold-coveting gang would be keeping watch and ward lest their prey should once more give them the slip under cover of night, just as he had done on two other occa- sions; but if such watch was kept, it was so cun- ningly masked that he could not discover aught | | motionless? Why did he feel no greater fear? of it, What matter? Even should he be detected in the act, who could or would blame him for plav- ing even? It was simply natural: it was a life for a hand: only a cur would lie low without snapping back! So Rusty Jack reasoned, if reasoning it could be called, with his blood on fire and his brain awhirl. But the instanthe caught sight of the dimly glowing embers marking the little camp, bis nerves grew steady, his brain cleared, and be lost sight of all else save his revenge, It was not until after he had crept within short pistol range that he could distinguish one form from another; but then it was easy enough. No danger of confounding that trim, graceful figure wita that of the giant chum, or that of the man clad in skins, Creeping around until he could command a fair view of the Lucky Lad’s left side, as he lay on the broad of his back with on? arm doubled back beneath his head, Rusty Jack cocked and leveled his revolver. CHAPTER VI. THE SINGING DEATH. His brain had never worked more clearly than it did in that awful minute when he felt that squirming coil beneath his arm, when he heard that angry skir-r-r, and caught sight of that lance-shaped head rising between bis arm and his side; yet if was neither nerve nor reason that kept Light-beart Lute from leaping to his feet, or even moving a muscle of arm or body, To do either would only insure a stroke from those poison-backed fangs, for swiftly as he might move, that stroke would come ten-fold more quickly. He knew that, well enough, And, curiously enough the Lad of Luck recalled an experiment which he kad once tried, never again to repeat it, however, It all came back to him in that instant: how be had been aiscussing the actions ofa rattle- snake with Poley, while watching the sluggish reptile as it crawled away toward its holeamong the rocks. ‘**1t hain’t got no need o’ eyes, as J see,” the giant said. ‘I don’t b’lieve it ever uses ’em when it comes to strikin’. Fer why: you lop off yen’ critter’s head, an’ dast to tetch its tail ’ith on’y the tipo’ yer finger, an’ you cain’t jerk back quick ’nough fer to keep it from bloodin’ the hand o’ ye!” ** Not with my arm at full stretch?” “Not ef if was twenty foot long, an’ chuck ful! o’ chain lightnin’, you couldn’t git off ’thout a bloody hand,” asserted Poley. That was enough, Light-heart Lute at once killed the snake, He waited until its body was stretched out at full length, then touched its tail, jerking back his hand on the instant. But with incredible swiftness, that headless stump flashed backward, sending a thrill of horror through his every vein as it struck him squarely on the back of the hand! All this flashed across Larrimer’s brain in that single instant, but it was not ube memory of this deadly swiftness that kept him from rolling away from that loathsome companionship, He was under a spell of somesort, and— Once more he recalled how Poley talked of men and animals being fascinated by the rattlesnake. He had always doubted this fabled power. He had, more than once, tested it, while keeping be- yond striking distance, of course, of the reptile he was experimenting with, And as often his skepticism had been confirmed, His only sensation was one of loathing: his sole impulse thus acquired was an instinct to slay. With an odd longing to again test those fabled powers of fascination, Light-heart Lute kept his eyes fixed on that flat head asit gradually rose higher, more of the scaly body gliding up through the uarrow opening between his arm aoa mate te see tee cas Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. and his body. He caught those tiny, bead-like eyes fastened upon him. He could even distin- | guished the black-tipped tongue with its double extremity, running in and out, quivering sharp- ly. But that was all. He felt uone of the wild, weird symptoms so frequently met with in print, and sographically repeated by Poley Applejobn. Decidedly there was something wrong with that legend! Inch by inch the snake drew its length from beneath that motionless arm, sending its body in a curve over the breast of the young man who was almost listlessly watching its movements by the dim light. Its shivering rattle no longer sounded, for the shell-armed tail bad scant room in which to play, but its star-like eyes never once wavered in its gaze. Surely there was no such thing as serpent fascination! And yet—why was he lying so Why his busy brain unable to control his body ? For, despite the certainty that his slightest at- tempt to knock the snake from _ his breast would invite a poisonous. wound, Light-heart Lute would surely bave made that {effort could he have made his muscles work bis will. Little by little the snake emerged from its un- comfortably close quarters, making a double curye on the bosom of the youth, the contact sending a strange, loathsome cbill through gar- ments to flesh, causing Light-heart Lute far more annoyance than the possible death that menaced him without cessation, Then, when its tail was freed, the snake quick- ly formed a coil, arching its neck and causing its horny tail to vibrate so swiftly that the keenest eye could not keep track of its wavings, producing the sound which no combination of letters can rightly represent, and which the red- skins bave poetically named the singing death, Then, for the first time since that strange or- deal began, Light-heart Luke felt fear]! With that sound the curious spell which had fallen upon him, was broken. For the first time be kuew that his muscles were prepared to obey his brain, and never in all bis life, though that bad been’ eventful enough of late, bad he stood nearer to death than in that instant, It required all his will-power, all bis marvel- ous nerve, to lie without motion, to resist that wild impulse to strike at thet loathsome bead and roll over, in vain hopes of thus escaping be- ing bitten. Most fortunately he was equal to the task, though an involuntery shiver crept through bis body, seeming to turn his blood toice in his veins. And with that freezing sensation came another curious thougbt; doubly curious under such perilous circumstances, but yet true. He knew that the rattlesnake, like all others of its family, loved warmth and shunned cold- ness, It was probably for warmth that the reptile had crept close to his body, unnoticed while his brain was so busily thinking. The light might have attracted it, in the first place, but a snake fears fire even as it loves warmth, which would account for its crawling to that side of the body lying furthest from the glowing embers, , Then—tbis was his queer thought: If his body changed from warm to cold—and already his blood felt as though it was congealing—would not the snake abandon it for a warmer resting- placet The odd fancy sent his stagnant blood flowing more freely, and Lightheart Lute could bardly smother a groan as he felt aglow of returning warmth throughout his person, from crown to sole! At brief iutervals the singing death rung out, and that ugly head was curved in readiness to shoot forward to deal its venomous stroke; but as Lightheart Lute lay without motion, the rep- tile seemed to regard him less suspiciously, The rattle came less frequevt and less loud, until only an occasional rustle was heard, The head lowered; the wavy half of that scaly body drew back to form a curve instead, and with a growing thrill of hope Lightheart Lute watched and waited. ‘ He had no difficulty in doing the first, for his right arm was still bent backward, bis hand forming a pillow, which lifted his head suffi- ciently for him to glance downward without se- riously straining bis eyes. ; He ‘breathed slow and gently, moving the muscles of his chest as little as possible, lest the serpent again grow angry. He saw that the center of that round body was slowly slipping to one side in @ growing curve, reaching toward the ground beyond his rigid left arm, The snake was plainly about to desert its resting-place for some reason, though still suspicious, still watch- s4o0 mow
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* a would make less tie ep Fete alin baslactrteal ehertrinn. a aS bbe, 1, ever ready to bury its fangs into the face fore it at the slightest motion. Then— | At that precise instant, when his hope was re- urning, Lightheart Lute caught sight of a dimly dutlined figure creeping along the ground only a ew rods distant, crouching low, not unlike a wild beast, but yet unmistakably a human peing. As though by instinct the truth burst upon im. An instant later he had not the faintest oubt that this was either Rusty Jack or Joe Hoover coming to ‘‘ play even.” The thought sent a thrill through his body, and even that slight motion was sufficient to 1nger the rattlesnake once more, L ap and back, then darted forward until it al- git Old Crazy, the 3 y o Boil ems? MPI SAY oe ar Man Without a Head. RCE wore ye cuts Nearly closing his lids, Light-heart Lute wait- / and the loud shout coming from the lips of ed, meaning to fight for his life when the crisis | Showy Joe Hoover. came, but fearing to stir before. And bit by bit the assassin crept closer, nearer, until—one mere yard and— His hairy hand extended, to touch the coiled snake, whose fangs were swiftly buried in that bloated face the same instant! CHAPTER VII. STILL THE FAVORITE OF FORTUNE. LIGHT-HEART LUTE was never cooler, steadier nerved in his life than when he lay motionless, watching through nearly closed lids the stealthy Its nead flew | approach of his enemy. He had Jong since recognized Rusty Jack nost touched the lowered chin of the young | Cripps, as much from his bandaged and sling- man, but luckily its body had been nearly too | supported right hand as from faee or figure, and traightened out before for its stroke to reach ts mark, Still, with that curious instinct so swift, so dd, so unaccountable for any ordinary reason- ng, Lightheart Lute understood this fact, and hough he fully expected another more certain troke, he was able to command his nerve, lying without even a tremor. And though his eyes were still fixed upon the head of the snake, be could look beyond and still letect that crouchinz figure as it crept silently long through the shadows, The snake only partially drew back its body, ounding its rattle faintly, then keeping motion- ess for a few moments to watch its victim. An- other movement would surely be fatal, so far 8 poison could make it, for the serpent would never again missits stroke. Two such bits of are good luck seldom fall to the lot of one man. Moving only his eyes, Lightheart Lute kept jrace of that phantom-like shape under the rees, losing it only fora second or two, and even then knowing just how far and how fast it nad progressed, as well as just where to expect ts next appearance. He was able to do this, yet not once entirely ose sight of the rattlesnake, thanks to its change of position, And he knew that once more the ower half of its body was slowly seeking the zround, PG at The curve an dein pac until only the tail and short foot of the upper body rested on his form, held from slipping by the scales covering ts spotted body. And then, with a faint, un- sven rattle, the tail slipped down upon, then ver his left arm as it lay by his side, And, neh by inch, its eyes glittering like beads of fire, ts tongue running in and out with a quiver, that arrow-shaped head began to sink lower and jower until—from body to arm, from arm to ground! For the first time since that terrible ordeal egan, Light-heart Lute permitted his lungs to fairly fill themselves, breathing deeply, grate- fully, though right well he knew that bis peril was scarcely lessened, since the snake was still lying in coil, and fairly touching his arm where t rested on the ground. Then, too, there was that prowling shadow! For an instant his eyes had closed, to relieve the strain which had been put upon them, but with that memory his lids flew open, and he looked for the human shadow; to catch sight of it, stump-like, facing him on its knees and— With one arm bent before its breast, serving as support to a cocked and leveled revolver. Not more than twenty yards away! Kueel- jing at the edge of the narrow strip of dim moon- light, across which the assassin had seemingly feared to pass lest his intended victim should oe him too soon, and make a fizbt for his e So near the strip that the light fell across the uzzle, making the silver sight shine brightly ! Xpecting death with each passing moment, yet afraid to stir lest those venomous fangs enter his flesh, Light-heart Lute closed his eyes and grimly clinched his teeth, awaiting the end, nd after second—a full minute, which seemed an age—yet that death-report did not ring out, that deadly missile did not wing its way to heart or brain! _, More difficult than ever was it for him to re. sist, that awful temptation to roll swiftly over, \risking a bite on the scant chance of cheating a shot; but Light-heart Lute proved equal to the ask. And opening his lids, he Jooked forth, to ‘\see that human enemy creeping still nearer, the light dimly reflecting from a bared blade clinch- between his bearded jaws! He had been afraid to risk a shot by that un- certain light, or else he feared to arouse the other sleepers by burning powder. Mag ee noise, and in a stron a hand would be even surer death, = : { from that fact he knew that, ugly though it was, the situation might have been much worse. He could distinguisb the bared knife gripped by the teeth of the assassin, and knew that there would have to bea momentary pause ere the sound hand could grip the bandle and steady it- self for the blow. And in that instant he intend- ed to act, Would the “ singing death ” keep its coil with- out sounding its grim warning until the ruffian was nigh enough? Wouldits attention be en- gaged by Rusty Jack completely enough to per- mit bim, Light-heart Lute, to roll over beyond its reach? These thoughts were flashing across bis brain, and his belief in the truth of his title was coming back to life with each passing second. Yet even he could not have hoped for what really fol- lowed. The same instant that the serpent lanced for- ward, Light-heart Lute rolled swiftly away, leaping to his feet, pistol in hand, as Rusty Jack jerked back witha yellof horror, the snake cling- ing to his face with its long, curved fangs. “On guard, Poley, but don’t fire first!” cried the Lad of Luck, never more appropriately named than on that night. ‘Help! save me! Whisky—gi’ me whisky fer —I’m bit all to pieces!” howled Rusty Jack Cripps, staggering to his feet, using both sound and crippled hands to tear that writhing reptile from the coil it was flinging about his neck, » He broke off with a wild screech of mingled rage and terror as he tore the snake loose, hurl- ing it to the earth with savage force before it could inflict another bite, crushing its head to pulp with one heavy heel, then reeling about like one drunken or with rank poison already seeth ing throosh his veins, e forgot what evil work he had attempted, though his intended victim was drawing closer, his free hand dropping some light fuelon the coals, causing a quick flame to spring up to light the scene, He forgot his crippled hand. He could only remember that hideous snake, and the awful death which menaced him. During those first few seconds Rusty Jack was little better than a madman, and bis terror was 80 great that he lost all enmity for the Lad of uck, begging him for whisky, for help, praying him to save his wretched life. “The gang’s a-comin’, boss!” warningly rum- bled Poley Applejohn, ever watchful for the in- terests of his chum and master, both in one, “Shell I stan’ ’em off a bit?” Instead of giving such orders, the Lad of Luck cried out sharply, waving his hat toward the ap- proaching figures: u “This way, boys! Somebody snake-bit, and needs help in a burry!” The men, a round dozen in number, came with a rush, and Light-heart Lute fell back a pace or two nearer his companions as he caught sight of the flashy.gambler at their head. He hastily muttered: “ Hold ’em level, pard, but don’t shoot unless it’s tosave life on our side. And keep an eye on Old Crazy, if—”"—- ¢ “‘]’m with you, heart, hand and shooter, sir!” came an unexpectedly clear, resolute voice, and Lute took time to flash one brief glance in that direction. Old Crazy had sprung to his feet at that wild alarm, looking and acting entirely different from “the man without a head,” in which char- acter alone Larrimer had kaown him, In each hand he gripped a revolver, and itdid not re- quire a second look toshow that he was both posi and willing to use them to good advan- ge, “Luck forever, and it’s all on our side!” laughed Lute, though his words were nearly drowned by the wil cries of the bitten ruffian SS 3 ‘*Foul play, lads!” the flashy gambler cried, with a fine show of indignation as he recognized his chum in that blindly reeling figure. ‘‘ It’s poor Rusty! They’ve butchered him again! Down with ’em, boys!” ** Steady, all!” rung out the clear, stern voica of the Lad of Luck. ‘‘ Rusty Jack bas bit bim- self with a rattler, and nota hand has been rais- ed against him!” ‘**Save the hand cf Providence!” supplemented Old Crazy. ‘*But thar’s six han’s hyar, an’ every one 0’ them chuck-full, ef ye want to try rushin’,” rumbled Poley, by way of cap-sheaf. **Whisky—gi’ me whisky!” howled Rusty Jack, unbeeding if he felt the pain caused by dashing his bandaged hand across his blinded eyes. “‘I’m bit! D’m p’izened! Cain’t ye see how I’m all swellin’ up an-— Oh, won't nobody try to help me nor nothin’?” ‘“*Tv’s all a cursed trick to do us out of the bonanza!” cried Joe Hoover, but shrinking vis- ibly from those leveled weapons, ‘‘ Down them first, then help Rusty if you can!” **Button up, Stowy Joe!” sharply spoke the Lad of Luck, adding: ‘‘ If be keepschipping on that line, call him down, pard!” “You bet I will: fer keeps, too!” grimly rombled the giant. There came a momentary pause, during which Light-beart Lute took a hasty survey of the men, now in frontof the gambler. He re- cognized several of their number, end knew that they were listed among the ‘‘ tough nuts” of town. If they had been led by one who could act as boldly as he had talked, beyond a doubt they wonld have risked a rush, despite those ready revolvers, killing the two caums and gaining possession of the old prospector at one and the same time. But, lacking such a head, they were more readily managed than honester men would have been. “Showy Joe lies, and you know it, gentle- men,” Light-heart Lute said, in clear cool tones. ‘You were near enough to see it all: too near for a shot or a blow to bave escaped your eyes and ears So—will you talk white if I promise to save your life, Rusty Jack?” ‘*Save me—only save me from—I’m all sweil- in’ up!” hoarsely gasped the miserable wretch, staggering closer to the Lad of Luck, dropping to his knees, and only kept from embracing those of Larrimer by a backward step on his art. ‘* What were you creeping up toward meas I lay sleeping, for?” *“To stick—I didn’t dast resk a shot, fer— Whisky !” “You meant to murder me, then?” sternly persisted Larrimer, resolved to have every cloud brushed aside. ‘ Tell the truth, or whisky won’t save you, poor devil!” “Yes, I meant to stab ye through fer cripplin’ me all up|” the terrified knave moaned, yet loud enough for his mates beyond to catch each word as it passed his lips, ‘*You hear his free confession, gentlemen?” again employing the much abused title, for — which no one is a greater stickler than your gen- uine knave. “I was lying here, without a thought of harming him, while he was creeping up to stab me under cover of sleep, He must have put a hand on a rattler, for— ‘““ Yes, I did!” broke in Rusty Jack, with a howl, *‘ An’ the durn imp bit me in the face— bit me all over! An’ I’m swellin’ up ‘ith the p'izen ontel— Gi’ me whisky, fer the love o’— Gi’ me whisky! Don’t let me die like a— Whisky—whisky, ye devils!’ ‘** Are you satisfied that be has only himself to blame, gentlemen?” persisted Lightheart Luke, replacing the pistols in bis belt, and taking thé nearly crazed ruffian by one of his wildly wav- ing arms, ‘If so, give me your vote, for unless something is done in a burry, Rusty Jack is a gone ’coon, sure enough!” “Yes, yes! "twas all my fault! I "lowed to stab tim while be was snoozin, an’ so—an’ so do somethin’ fer me, boss, ef there’s a heart into ye! Save me, fer I bain’t noways fit to die—an’ sech a death!” “‘Stand back and keep ready to block any trick, Poley,” swiftly warned the Lad of Luck; then adding in louder tones: ‘*Come forward, you who carry bottles, and lend a band, please! ry to simmer down, Rusty, for you’re only helping the poison to do its work by keeping up such a mighty stew. We'll save you, if it’s in the book, never fear!” _ Several of the men came forward, each bold- ing out a bottle or flask as a flag of truce,
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eee ee — —~- Ri ee eam ta Rusty Jack caught at the nearest, and only dropping it when the last drop of liquid fire rolled down his throat. Poley and Old Crazy stood on guard with armed bands, but Lightheart Luke showed no suspicion while cutting the rattlesnake into | short lengths, and splitting them open with bis keen koife. He tok a section of the lower body, and after bidding Rusty Jack stand firm and grit his teeth, he found the twin punctures made by the fangs in that puffy cheek, then cut deeply across eacli tiny wound, repeating the action across each in a downward direction. It was too late to think of extracting all the poison by cutting outa chunk of flesh, and even his humanity did not go so far as to lead him to aid the flowing blood by applying his lips in suction, The scarifying complete, Lute turned back the separated edges of the length of snake-body, covering the wound with the raw flesh, binding it in place with a strip cut and torn from Rusty Jack’s shirt. ‘* It’s the best we can do, lacking a chicken or a big bird,” ne explained to the eagerly watch- ing miners. ‘Take the rest of the snake along, and change the poultice every ten minutes until he begins to show drunk. Fill him up yrith whisky; he can’t swallow enough to burt bim, for if he’s to be saved, he’ll soon be too drunk to swallow more.” . * Will I—kin you save me, boss?” huskily moaned Cripps. ‘* Pye done my Jevel best. Jack, but the result depends on a far higher Power than mine or yours,” was the grave response. There was a brief silence, then one of the miners, thinking more of earthly than of spiritu- al powers, cried out sharply: “Three cheers fer the Lad o’ Luck, anyway! Whoop ’em up, mates!” Poley Applejobn’s mighty voice led the cheer- ing, and Light-heart Lute repeatedly bowed his thanks, hat in hand, a grave, serious smile play- ing about his lips. He was in nowise vainglorious, but he could not honestly disclaim tbat title, after what had happened that day and night. Twice had he been at the point of death by the hands of that miserable man, now so helpless himself. At least once he had escaped death from those poi- sou-laden fangs as by a miracle. Then, why should he disclaim being a favorite of fortune? After the echoes of those cheers had died away, there came a slightly awkward silence. Givena couple of whisky flasks, Rusty Jack Cripps was frantically seeking renewed life in drunkenness. Showy Joe Hoover had slunk out of sight. But the remaining miners were clearly loth to take their departure without having come toa more perfect understanding. Ligbt-heart Lute had no difficulty in reaching the truth, but he was in no hurry to break the silence, though his answer would be ready when called for. With a seemingly careless glance he saw that Old Crazy was still on the alert, looking and act- ing very differently from his manner when res- cued from Rusty Jack’s rope the past evening. But—would the veteran be any the less tenacious of bis coveted secret? “1 say, Ligbt-heart!” abruptly cried one of the dozen, drawing a bit in front of his mates, the ruddy glow of the fire revealing an embar- rassed yet resolute expression on his rugged face. ‘* Well, Bat Johnson, why don’t you keep on saving?” easily laughed the favorite of fortune. ‘* Ef we take Rusty back to town, whar he kin be better keered fer, you won’t try fer to give us all the slip? You won’t run the old’un off thout givin’ us a show to talk it over, ca’mly, by day?” “Pll neverrun him off, as you put it, Bat Jobnson. I hold no claim over him, beyond that of a feeling of friendship for one I saw being shamefully abused by a gang of tough nuts,” * But you be his fri’nd, I reckon?” ‘*And proud to claim that title, if he will |. grant it, too!” “Then you want to hold him right whar he is now, at least ontel day comes, or you'll turn up one fri’nd short—an’ that’s flat!” CHAPTER VIII. WHICH IS THE CRAZIEST? ‘Am I to take that as a threat, Mr. John- son?” **You’re to take it as gospel truth, anyway,” was the firm response. ‘‘ We ain’t buntin’ no racket ith you, mind ye, LuckyL ad, fer—” “You have a sample warning right before your eyes, Bat,” grimly laughed Larrimer, nod- ding toward Rusty Jack Cripps. ** An’ tain’t one secb as we'll fergit in a hurry, nuther,” was the frank reply. ‘But, all the ‘ 4 ‘ ! saine, we’re holdin’ close to the line we've | marked out; an’ that leads us straight to the | bonanzy Old Crazy hez bin workin’ all these | years,” | “In still plainer words? - “You play white, an’ we'll do the same. Keep the old ’un hyar anyway until day comes, | Then we'll be better fixed on both sides fer a sober talk-it-over. Ef ncot—waal, I kin give it | to ye with the bark on ef nothin’ shorter’ll satisfy ye, Lad.” iat Don’t be mealy-mouthed, Mr. Johnson.” “That ain’t my natur’., Ef I’m anythin’, ’'m a plain talker, ’thout any frills or circumbendi- busses. An’ so—this is the idee: We'll agree, all of us, an’ sign sech a ’greement ef ye want, to give Old Crazy his pick o’ claims on the lead, lawful size. Ef he’s got ary kin or fambly, be kin take next choice fer each One o’ them, afore the rest o’ us stakes out the rest. But—ef he wants to play bog, as he hes bin a-playin’ of it | all these long times—ef he tries to skin out an’ skin us, es he’s done twicet afore—then we'll freeze fast to the bull blamed business, ‘cept ground ’nough to kiver him over in white-man | fashion!” : There was a brief silence after this grim con- | clusion. Light-heart Lute looked toward Old Crazy, but bis bead was, bowed and bis eyes downcast. If he bad aught to offer, the right time had not yet come. Of course Poley Applejohn was silent. He never spoke first, when Light-heart was at the helm. “You don’t insist on an answer this minute, then, Mr, Johnson?” | Notef you ain’t ready to give it, sir, We'll wait ontel day, ef you want a chaince to talk it over ‘ith the old gent.” * Allright. Call again with the sun, gentle- men, and we'll be right on band. I pledge you my word to that effect.” ““That’s plenty, Lucky Lad! Come, boys; Ie’s git Rusty back to town afore be’s too drunk to help navigate him own self!” cheerily cried Johnson, greatly relieved at the outcome. There was little thought of sleeping left beLind them when they passed out of sight, assisting the already balf drunken cripple along. Light-heart Lute freshened up the fire, then took a steady look at the face of the veteran. It was dork and troubled, but there was no return of that wild, insane light, and for the time being the old man seemed fully capable of listening to and giving back reason, Satisfied on this point, Larrimer frankly gave his opinion as to the wisest, if no€ the only course left open for them, ‘‘T passed my word that you would remain here until the sun rose, because I knew tbat if I refused, those fellows would watcb us like hungry cats watching a mouse, Even if they didn’t try to make still surer of their game by shooting us down, and capturing you again.” Then he went on to give reasons for thinking | it best to yield up a partin order to save the rest. The old trick of fleeing by night was out of the question. Unless Old Crazy yielded to the general demand before another night came, he would be killed for what wealth he now carried on bis person, or-else would be taken captive and forced to act as guide to bis rich strike, ‘Now Pll tell you what we'll do, if you'll try to trust in us. We are free lances, Poley and I, and we've taken a powerful fancy to you. Tl tell vou just why, before long. ‘Promise to show the way to your bonanza, and we'll pledge our honor to see that you bave both time and oppurtunity to fairly stake out a legal claim for yourself, and another for Chiquita, before any otber man strikes blow with pick or turns a clod with shovel. And if you like, we'll stand by to see that you are neither of you disturbed while your claims are being worked out. Isn’c that fair?” ‘*Tt would be, if I was an ordinary being,” was the slow, seemingly difficult reply. ‘ But —there’s a curse hanging over me—a bitter black curse! And all who come beneath its shadow are doomed—doomed beyond salva- tion! ; “Tl put my luck against the shadow,” softly laughed Light-heart Lute. ‘“‘And as for the other fellows—well, give them fair warning, and let them rustle for their own lives after. How’s that, daddy?” The victory was not yet won, though Lute felt greatly encouraged to find Old Crazy even listening to his arguments. And he kept bam- mering away, fearing to postpone the matter lest that old madness return to ruin all his hopes, And hefore the day dawned, Old Crazy had yielded a reluctant consent! n? es Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head.’ With the first rays of the rising sun, Bat John- : son came back at the head of his party, to receive the answer he bad demanded. And when this was given, great was their joy there- at, despite the gloomy words which fell from the lips of the old prospector. ‘You show us the bonanzy, an’ we'll resk the bad luck,” laughed Johnson, in high glee. As for Light-beart Lute, be made but one stipulation: Showy Joe Hoover was to be counted out of the game altogether. Each man was sworn to secrecy and was to do all possible to throw outsiders off the scent, at least long enough to permit them to have their claims fairly staked out and defined be- fore the to-be-expected rush should follow. Each man was to claim that Old Crazy was still holding out for more time, while they secretly made their preparations for a long and toilsome journey to the bonanza. Then, when the shades of night were come again, they were to steal away from town and rendezvous at a given point, from thence to take up their march. One week only. The gold-bunters had halted to give an hour or two of the extreme heat of the day to rest and a hearty meal, under shade of a little tree-clump, at the edge of which broke forth a spring, the cool waters of which proved a grateful boon indeed to those parched lips and dust-lined throats, That week had wrought more or less change in each one of the members of the little band, but on vone did the time show greater change than iv Light-heart Lute. There was a look of anxious doubt, of dejec- tion, even, in his naturally bright and cheerful face as he lay apart from the rest of the com- pany. He seemed to have grown years older during that short span, and fatigue alone could not be blamed with that alteration. His blue eyes were riveted upon’the bowed form of Old Crazy ; bis face was hidden from view by his position; and right there lay the prime cause of all this change in Light-heart. He was asking bimself a question even now, which be had asked himself times without number during those seven days of toilsome journeying: which was the craziest, Old Crazy or himself? * As before hinted, Light-heart Lute was not wandering through the gold country witbout an end in view, though that end seemed a pitiably faint and far-away goal, if not altogether a de- lusion born of a distempered fancy, : Years ago, when be was little more that an infant, his father bad caught the gold fever and bade his young wife and babe good-ty, gayly promising to come back to them in a short time, with riches enough to maintain them in comfort if not in splendor for the remainder of their lives, At long intervals word came home from the wanderer, at first hopeful in spite of poor success in amassing the fortune of which be had so easily boasted in advance, then—the last message—full of glowing hope, for at last he ‘* had struck it rich!” ) After that, silence complete! ¥ The years passed on, and with them died the hopes of the fading wife and mother. She clung to hope long after all others had abandoned it, but then, as death grew closer to berself, she, too, believed that the loved one had gone on before. J But while waiting and watching, hopin against hope, that mother bad sowed se which was destined to bear fruit in after years, She spent hours talking to little Luther about his father, and he time and again kissed away her tears, declaring that “when I'm a big man” he would go bring bis papa home once more. Luther Larrimer never forgct those boyish pledges, even after bis mother was buried. And in later years, when he was able to act #8 bis own master, he set out on bis mission, first go- ing to the mining town bearing the same name as that upon the last letter written by Stephen Larrimer'to his wife, Hetty. Time had blotted out all memory of the miss- ing miner, and Light-heart Lute failed to find even the slightest trace of his father, Unless— and in that lay the wild fancy which bad so strongly drawn him toward Old Crazy—the wild, haggard, bony figure which the more dar- ing prospectors occasionally caught a glimpse of in the mountains, was that father, crazed by accident or erase such as gold-hunters seem peculiarly liable to, That was more than two yearsago, and Light- heart Lute had never abandonded his wild hope —
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4 : as 2 ann Se wt Po $ i at + , gay i a Old Crazy, th Rae SASL AMD EE ne EN Sa aR Pe ai e Man Without a Head —_———__—? amgeeneiast i _ of one day discovering bis fatber in some such demented being, though up to the day when he first met Old Crazy, he had never come across uny such being. He faticied be had caught a clew when Old Crazy showed such interest in music, and to clineb it, if possible, he caused Toley Applejohn t» play that old song, which his mother bad told him was a great favorite with his father. He was puzzled by the curious effect produced that night, and bad every night since caused Poley to repeat the music: never with that or any other particular result, however. He had closely questioned Old Crazy as to his real nama, bis past life, and associations, but with little reward to him. It was:bard to draw a word from the gloomy old fellow, and those ouly protested that be bad lost all memory of the past when he lost bis head! Time and again be had called bimself a fool for entertaining such a preposterous idea any longer, yet he found it impossible to drive away tuefancy that this was indeed his long missing father, And when he consulted the faded daguer- | reotype which his mother had bequeathed to him, he felt sti]l more undecided. s The features were not so utterly dissimilar, though one represented a young, full-faced man | in the pride of bis strength and health, while the other was sharpened and rendered gaunt by care and trouble, and advancing age. Yet—if Old Crazy was indeed that father, he should now be just in the prime of middle-age, while the old prospector seemed at least three-score years of age! Poley Applejohn, ever thoughtful where his chum was concerned, now broke in upon that painful reverie, bringing warm meat and a bearty appetite to aid in clearing his share of the bark platter. And once more Light-heart Lute threw off that wearing burden of care and ‘doubt, talking and laughing like his old self, ““ A body’d reckon we, was all toilin’ onward to our graves, jedgin’ from the look o’ him!” rumbled Poley, with a jerk of his head toward Old Crazy by way of explanation, “ An’ yit hesays we'll git thar afore sunset—ef ever!” This hope helped to tear the gold-hunters away from the doubly grateful shade and spring, much earlier than would have been the case had their longed-for goal been more distant. Their spirits rose in direct ratio with the falling of that of Old Crazy, and barring a few stray doubts that his dejection might be caused by possible exposure and punishment for leading them far astray, the party pressed on merrily, forgetting fatigue and sore bones in their golden visions, As the sun declined they entered a long, nar- row valiey, winding up it with Old Crazy in the lead, never one of them all suspecting the death whose shadow was already falling over their doomed heads, : Until—a volley of bullets and arrows whizzed through the air, and wild, savage yells rung out; but all did not hear these sounds, and the Lad of Luck was among that number! " CHAPTER IX. BEFORE CHIEF BAD HAND. Old Crazy was in the lead, as usual, and so perfectly was that death-trap masked up to the very instant set for its springing, that even he must have been completely in the dark as to what was coming, ~ Just at that point the practical portion of the narrow valley grew more contracted, causing the gold-bunters to string out almost in single file, though just before what may be called ‘* the dead line” was reached, there was ample room for double their number to walk abreast. In these facts might have been found the ex- planation why Old Crazy, the leader, escaped both arrow and bullet when the trap was fairly sprung. Yet—could it explain his hoarse, ago- nized ery of what seemed remorse as he lifted his clasped hands above his head, glancing back at Mr reeling, falling forms of his little com- pany ‘“Blind—blind! Why would ye not listen to my warning?” wo half-naked figures sprung from cover of the rocks and grasped Old Crazy, each by an arm, burriedly speaking a few words in their own tongue, Fach was armed, but neither me- naced him with a weapon, nor did the strange being offer to strike or break away. _ They hurried him off through tbe rocks, push- ing him a little in advance, and though Old Crazy tried to glance backward several times, just as often did the Indians draw close together * so as to form a living fence Letween the leader and his ill-fated following. There were yells ringing out fiercely, with an occasional scattering shot, as though the victors were trying to drop a fugitive with greater ease to themselves than by running him down in the first place; but even to his dulled, almost stupe- fied. brain there could be no doubr as to how the affair must terminate. The two Ute braves hurried him forward, plunging into a narrow cut through the frowning rocks, the walls ot which quickly smothered all sounds coming from that scene of death. Beyond the first fierce grasp, and the force without which they could not well keep bim in as speedy motion as they seemed to deem essen- tial, the savages had used Old Crazy moreasa friend thananenemy, The moment they were clearly out of range of the figbt, if fight it could be called, they replaced their weaporis in their girdles, still further betraying their confidence by permitting the old miner to retain bis pistols and the Winchester which bung across bis back by a sling. “The curse! The shadow of death! Poor fools!” his voice growing choked and husky. ““T warned ye, but ye heeded not!” The braves interchanged swift looks, then one of them tightened his grip a bit by way of call- ing attention, speaking in the Ute tongue; “Tt is not time to talk, now. Save your breath for the ears of Chief Bad Hand, father,” Old Crazy gave a sudden start that took his arms out of those brown hands, but he made no attempt to escape, nor toucbed a weapon. He brushed a hand across his eyes, staring wildly confusedly at the braves, like one rudely rousec from slumber. *““Oonah! Muruss! What does— Merciful Heaven!” his hands clasping tightly over his eyes, bowing bis head, while a convulsive sbud- der ran through bis gaunt frame. ‘What is, must be,” tersely uttered one of the Utes, renewing his friendly vet firm grip on an arm, ‘‘ Come, father, Chief Bad Hand is waiting,” As before, Old Crazy offered no resistance, permitting his two guards to impel him whither they listed, but still there was a difference. Then he seemed under the spell which had enveloped him for,two full days past—ever since the gold-hunters forced him to admit that they were rapidly drawing near the spot where they might feast their eyes on the long-talked-of bonanza, “Tf the black shadow of death does not close down before!” They laughed at his gloomy conclusion then, but now— ‘**Blotted from the face of the earth, and all” through me!” he groaned, hot tears coming into his aching eyes—for the first time in many a long and dreary year. : **Talk is bad; be still!” barshly spoke one of his guards, for the first time menacing the veteran with a weapon. A bright light flashed into the old man’s eyes, but only for an instant. Then he bowed his head in submission, and walked on as their hands indicated their wish, He had left death lying behind him, It was more than probable that death was awaiting him at the end of that rapid journey, But he had no right to anticipate the blow, for another’s sake if not his own. What had happened to her—his little Chiqui- ta? If Chief Bad Hand had discovered his treachery—for treachery it surely would be termed, his guiding armed white men into that forbidden region—had or would he spare the daughter where be punished the parent? In his growing anxiety Old Crazy ignored that last harsh waruing, asking his guards if any other captive was before Chief Bad Hand; but neither brave replied in words. They sim- ply menaced him with the blunt ends of their batchets, and forced bim on at a still more rapid pace, ‘ Fearing the worst for the one living being on earth whom he really loved, Old Crazy forgot all else in his feverish anxiety to learn what lay before bim—not the worst, for be was praying that it might be best! Once or twice a brief memory of Light-heart Lute—-of whom his last glimpse bad been a sickening oOne—came to his restless brain, but even the affection which he bad begun to feel for the young man whose cool nerve had saved bim from the rope, was not powerful enough to ek his thoughts long away from Lit le Chi- quita, Little by little his brain was growing clearer, and warned by the unusual harshness shown him by the Utes, Old Crazy felt convinced that a perilous ordeal awaited bim when brought be- fore Chief Bad Hand. ‘ =F He cared comparatively little for himself, though, despite all drawbacks, life was weil worth making astout fight for; but should he be found guilty, and come under condemnation, would not Little Chiquita also bave to suffer? It was this dread thought tbat helped to clear bis brain and steady his nerves, and though hardly an hour elapsed before the two Ute braves brought him to a wild, romantic-seeming retreat where nearly a score lodges were pitcb- ed, that time was sufficient for the veteran to rally and form at least an outline of his defense. He was marched directly to the largest lodge in the secluced little valley, before the tnrnec- back flap of which wasscated an Indian, engaged in smoking bis pipe. Neither guard nor prisoner spcke, standing with bowed heads, the picture of bumility, awaiting the pleasure of this wrinkled, dried-up and sun-baked anatomy, who, on his part, never deigned them = glance as he slowly puffed on, seemingly ignorant of their existence, ‘Without looking at tbat withered face—a skull over which the dark skin hung in ugly folds— the captive could hardly have mistaken him for other than the chief, since the crippled member which bad first suggested the name which after- ward became famous, or infamous, according to the color of those who judged, lay plainly be- fore his do wncast eyes, The left band of the chief bad bardly grown since birth, though the arm, from wrist upward, was almost normal in its development, The slender fingers were withered and curved like the claws of an eagle, cach one tipped with claws— one could hardly term them nails—of horn, pointed, strong, sbarp enough to pierce leather. The ** bad band” was curled around the featber- od stem of his pipe, able to manage that, though of little service in toil or war. Not until the bowl was emptied of all but ashes, did Chief Bad Hand lift his eyes or his voice, or by aught else give token that he was aware of the return of the guards with their prisoner, “ Well?” “Tt is well, oh, chief,” in unision responded the-Utes, bending their beads still lower, keep- ing them thus until their master waved his withered hand as a token that the bonds of etiquette were loosened. Well?” One of the braves tersely but clearly told how the pale-faces bad walked blindly into the death- trap. Then, stepping back a pace, he gave way for bis brother to tell how they had captured Old Crazy and burried him without delay to the ’ presence of their mighty chief, * Neither chief nor prisoner interposed a word, and it would bave been no easy task to decide which one vas the least moved, judging from their faces, When the second brave ceased speaking, there was a brief silence, broken at length by Chief Bad Hand, for the third time pronouncing that crisp monosy lable, this time directing it toward Old Crazy, and keeping it company with a keen, almost fierce gaze, “Of what am I accused, Chief Bad Hand?” coldly demanded the prisoner, unflincbingly meeting that gauze with one just as steady if vailed with respect duc his power over life and death. ; “Of being double-tongued, Of being false to your word, and treacherous to those who drew you back to life when the jaws of death had Claimed you as its prey,” croaked the living skeleton, his bead-like eyes glittering like those of en angered serpent, ‘** Who accuses me, oh chief?” ‘*We saw what we saw, and Chief Bad Hand has heard our words,” the Ute braves gravely chanted in company; ‘Tam waiting for your words, Sick Brain,” norded the chief, Old Crazy paused long enough to collect bis thougbts, for he knew that on his story depend- ed bis life or death. cm jury and execu- tioner was before bim, all crowded into that wrinkled hide! Clearly, using no more words than the case strictly demanded, yet omitting nothing that could assist ic clearing him of that grave charge, Old Crazy told his story, : He admitted that be had pledged his word never to betray to men of bis own color, the spot where be procured his yellow dust, and he affirmed that he had kept that oath as sacreily as possible, ating “Then my children spoke lies when they said Sick Brain was taken at the head of armed pale- faces?” “They spoke truth, Chief Bad Hand, yet I am not false to my oath,” quickly replied Old Crazy,
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ea SS eee 10 a a et, “Ew “The pale-faces knew not whither I was leading them, for—” “Yet you were leading them?” ‘To their death—yes!” with desperate energy, aking rapidly in his growing dread lest Chief Bad Hand refuse to listen longer, now that fatal fact had been proven by bis own lips. “If I was a traitor to the Utes and to my pledge, would I notbhave opened their eyes in time to cheat the death-trap? Would I have led them blindfold into the snare, without giving them a chance to strike back when death called aloud?” ‘¢-You led them here. That is enough,” He lifted his withered claw-band, but as the two braves grasped the old man, he fiercely hurled them aside, as though they had been no more than puny children, springing forward and catching the chief by both hands, then swiftly adding: ‘‘ Hear before you punish, oh chief! Could I act more wisely? The pale-faces saw my gold, and swore that they must have a share, or I should die ike a dog! They swore to follow my trail tbough it lasted for years, and led them clear around the earth. If they had—if I bad kept my lips sealed, they would have made their oath good. Then—they would have come with all eyes open, ready to strike first in place of falling without time to even give the death- cry. ‘* Was it not better so, Chief Bad Hand? Was it not wisdom to close their eyes with cunning lies and empty promises, leading them to the slaughter with neither sight in their eyes nor weapons in their hands? Could I bave acted more wisely for my brothers, the Utes?” *“You could have died there, where the pale- faces found you,” was the grim retort. ‘‘ You would have died with a straight tongue, and that would have been wise,” CHAPTER X, LITTLE CHIQUITA, Tiny beads of cold sweat started out on the temples of the old man as he listened to those cold, pitiless words, but even yet he would not despair, for he felt that more than his own life was at stake. ‘* Which was best, oh, chief? To let the pale- faces follow the trail of my mule back through all its windings, or lead them to death with their eyes shut?” ‘“* Neither. A wise man would have died rather thancome so far to find a worse death, A wise man would leave no trail for the eyes of an enemy to follow, whether of two feet or four.” ‘*T am not wise, Chief Bad Hand. You gave me the name of Sick Brain, because the band of tbe Great Spirit has touched my wits, and cov- ered them over with a cloud. I have no head, but I bave aheart, and my little Chiquita has another! Her beart is bound to mine with thongs of love, aud 1 felt them pulling—pulling too hard for me to hold back longer than I did! So—I could not die, leaving her to fade away with grief at my staying away!” ‘* Will it make her heart glad to see you die?” coldly retorted the chief, “No! no! be shall not die! father!” Sharp, almost in a shriek came those words, and the next instant a girl sprung forward, winding ber bare arms about the neck of Old Cuey, lesion his lips, then kiding her face in his neck, sobbing violently. Chief Bad Hand never moved a muscle, though it was clear enough that he did not ex- ct such an interruption, Sitting still, he cold- y gazed at the agitated pair, while the two warriors waited his commands, their eyes riveted upon his immobile visage. * Little Chiquita!” muttered Old Crazy, lay- ing acheek on that dark head, his own face showing ghastly pale by contrast, ‘* Why did you come? Why did you—” ‘“* He brought me—Little Bird!” with almost fierce scorn, giving emphasis to the name as her head lifted and ber eyes met his. ‘‘ I could have killed him, then, but now—Iam glad—so glad, father!” * And I—I never thought to see the day I’d be sorry to see you, my little girl!” brokenly muttered Old Crazy, vainly striving to conquer his powerful emotions, for her sake more than for his own, ‘' You have come—to see—my death, Chiquita!” Another sharp cry of mingled distress broke from ber red lips, and little Chiquita turned to- ward Chief Bad Hand, shaking a tiny fist in his face, as she panted: “ He must not—you shall not kill him, chief!” “That is for the men to decide, not squaws,” My life—my ee ————————————————— —————————————— mma ooo Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. N coldly spoke the chief, nodding his head as a signal to the two braves, ‘hey instantly grasped Old Crazy by the arms, but Little Chiquita sprung to the rescue, fierce as an untamed wild-cat, and actually freed her father from their grip. But then Old Crazy spoke quickly, bidding her submit, trust- ing totime. And then, choking back her sobs, Little Chiquita followed the prisoner and his guards to tbe lodge set apart for their safe- keeping. Any attempt at escape would have been worse than useless, for while no other Utes had ap- proached Chief Bad Hand’s lodge, there were many squaws and over a dozen armed braves within eye-shot, ready and on the alert, ouly awaiting a call, One of these braves, a short, compactly-built, yet wiry fellow, came forward at Oonah’s sig- nal, taking up his station before the front of the prison lodze. ‘*Strike swift and sure, if Sick Brain tries to escape,” was the terse instructions given the sen- tinel. ‘Little Bird hears and will obey. Aad the squaw?” “Could ycu strike her, too?” ** Tf the chief say strike, yes.” ‘* The chief bas said it!” grimly nodded Oonah, turning away toward the lodge where Chief Bad Hand sill sat motionless. The prisoners stood silent, listening to these words, and while Old Crazy bowed his head de- jectedly, like one abandoning all hope, Little Chiquita shook her clinched fist toward the shadow of Little Bird, a Spanish oath hissing through her red lips. The light inside the lodge was dim, for the sun had just set, but what little there was showed a more than comely picture, even though rage and hatred partially disfigured that young face. Despite her hair, black as midnight and fall- ing straight, without the slightest tendency to curl, even at the tips, and her dark complexion, it was easy to see that more white than red-skin blood flowed throngh the veins of this girl whom Old Crazy called daughter. In fact, Little Chiquita was a quarter-blood, her mother baving been a halt-breed, her father of unmixed white blood. To this preponderance of white blood Little Chiquita owed her claims to beauty and regu- larity of feature, for, despite all the romantic writers, a really ‘‘ beautiful princess” yet re- mains to be found in truth, . Her age could not have been over sixteen or seventeen years, though a wild, free, out-door life had developed her figure far beyond the average, and as she stood now, silently defying the warrior whom she bad grown to hate with all the fervor of her wild nature, Little Chiquita formed a rarely attractive picture, That defiant attitude lasted only for a single breath, then the really tender-bhearted, loving child, turned to comfort her father, who was om iagh stupefied with grief, for her, not bhim- self, She induced him to sink down upon the rude bed of bides near the rear of the lodge, and after a time calmed him sufficiently to explain how be bad fallea into such trouble aud disgrace with Chief Bad Hand. In turn, Little Chiquita explained her pres- ence in the Ute village when Old Crazy had be- lieved her safely hidden in their secret retreat, patiently awaiting his home-coming. Little Bird had ferreted her out, taking her by surprise before she could make use of either bow or knife, bringing her to tbe village, after trying his best—worst, Little Chiquita called it —to win her consent to enter his lodge as his squaw. ‘*You can read my answer on bis ugly lips, father,” she laughed, softly, doubling up her little hand and gazing almost affectionately at her dimpled knuckles. ‘‘ Well for the dog that I had no more deadly weapon with which to cut his foul speech short!” Old Crazy flamed up a bit at this, but Lit- tle Chiquita found it easy enough to check his impulse torush forth to punish the presump- tuous Ute lover. Indeed, too easy, in fact, for the poor fellow seemed falling into one of those curious spells, half-asleep, half stupor, similar to the one which had so puzzled Light-heart Lute a week before. As darkness settled over the village, Lit‘le Bird entered the lodge for the purpose of kind- hing a rude sort of torch; a clumsy earthen ves- sel, filled with fat and tightly twisted reeds. By this dim, smoking light he gave a glance at his prisoners, seeing that Old Crazy was lying back with the regular breathings of one soundly a SSS sleeping, while Little Chiquita was arranging a bed for herself near her futher. She completed this, and even more; shaping a roll of skins about her own size, which she cov- ered with the same blanket that masked her own shapely figure. And thus she lay, with only an eye expesed, until Little Bird thrust his bead inside for another inspection. He gave a grunt, whether of satisfaction or of disgust, can only be surmised, then withdrew, standing rigidly erect before the prison-lodge, leaning on his long, feather-bedecked lance, No sooner had this come to pass, than Little Chiquita silently slipped back of that roll of skins, replacing the cover carefully, then re- moving one of the pegs holding the lower edge of the lodge closely to the ground. Slipping-un- der the skin, she crept noiselessly away, beading for the council-lodge where she felt morally cer- tain Chief Bad Hand and his warriors were even then deciding the fate of Old Crazy and herself, Little Chiquita was right in this belief, as she shortly proved by virtue of her keen sense of hearing, after her Indian training had enabled her to reach the rear of the council-lodge unde- tected by the brave op guard before the struc- ture. Had this been a regular town, instead of a efi Sarin 4 abiding place during a pause in their summer holiday, Little Chiquita would have found her task far more difficult, if not imprac- ticable. But now, with by far the greater por- tion of their force away at the death-trap, the braves remaining—Bad Hand was the sole chief —were hardly numerous enough to form a re- spectable circle around the council-fire, without detailing a force to patroland keep off intrud- ers. The lodge, too, was but of single walls, formed of skins, with here and there a crevice where sinews had yielded, through which shone a dull red light. Little Chiquita avoided these cracks, preferring to trust to ber ears, rather than run any unnecessary risk of discovery. Chief Bad Hand was talking when she began to listen, and after bis cold, pililess speech, there was no use in lingering longer. His voice was raised for death, and it was hardly likely that any considerable pumber of the braves would antagonize him in that sanguinary decision, despite their traditional reluctance to injure one on whose brain the Great Spirit had seen fit to place a blighting finger, Yet Chief Bad Hand did not altogether ignore superstition, and Little Chiquita shivered with mingled hatred and horror as she drank in his cold, monotonous speech, Sick Brain had broken his vow, and proved treacherous by leading an armed band of pale- faces into the heart of the Ute country, For that he must pay the penalty, even though their hands were forbidden to shed his blood, There were other deaths, and other methods of punish- ing traitors, One of them was by the will of the Great Spirit himself. ; “We will not kill either Sick Brain or Ckiqui- ta. We will simply put them in a lodge, and seal it up, leaving them to live or die, just as the Great Spirit sees fit.” In other words, to linger in agony and until thirst and hunger ate away their lives! It was hardly likely that this sentence would be changed or modified, since the chief had for- mulated it, but Chief Bad Hand had been the first to speak, and all the others remained to be heard; so Little Chiquita, as she crept silently away from the council-lodge, knew that a cer- tain length of grace remained, which might— which must be improved! She regained the prison-lodge in the same manner of leaving it, and although he had twice thrust his head inside for a look, Little Bird never suspected the cunning trick which had been played upon bimself, Not a little to her dismay, Little Chiquita found Old Crazy lying as she had left him, ina strange sort of stupor, the like of which she bad known in the past to last for many hours with- out a break. If it should be sonow! When each passing moment was worth an hour of or- § dinary time! There was little encouragement in the fact that he murmured indistinctly in response to ber gentle shaking, and then, Piaget going over the past, weighing the present, fully realizing how much depended on prompt and sure action, Little Chiquita settled upon her course of action withont further loss of time, Silently slipping outside the lodge again, she groped around until she found a round, heavy stone, something larger than her two fists when placed together. This she wrapped tightly in a strip cut from her dress, then reentered the lodge, holding the novel weapon hidden at her e SN ~ NS NS
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{ } | : ; } é ’ side as she called to Little Bird, throwing back the flap as his head came through in response to her agitated appeal. * He is sick—dying, I fear!” she panted, husk- ily, ‘* Come help—if you love me, Little Bird!” That was more than enougb, and never sus- | ting aught, the Ute bent over Old Crazy— to fall like a lump of clay as that stone fell | squarely upon his skull. | Old Crazy was aroused by the body falling across him so heavily, and Little Chiquita quickly made bim comprehend what fate awaited | them both if they could not escape. So, leaving Little Bird, alive, but bound and gagged, father and daughter stole away from the prison-lodge, hoping to reach a place of safety before their flight was known, CHAPTER XI. LUCK BEGINS TO CHANGE. Ir ‘‘ just happened” that the two particular chums were nearer the rear of the short line than the head of it, when Old Crazy led the way into the narrow defile at the mouth of whicb the Utes bad set their death-trap, but neither of them were far enough off to escape that shower of bullets and arrows. Without even a cry or a groan, Light-heart Lute tossed up his hands, falling backward, turning half-around as one shoulder came in contact with the arm of Poley Applejohn, then dropping like a log to the rocks over and through which they were just then pickiug their way. The giant flinched as an arrow gashed his cheek, but that was purely instinctive on his part. Ho never feit the pain of that wound, nor of the bullet that broke skin between bis left arm and his ribs, for he had no thoughts to spare for-himself; he was all for his chum! A deep, hoarse roar burst from his lips as he saw Light-heart Luts fall—as dead men drop, without cry or quiver! He saw the red blood marking that loved face, even as he swiftly stooped to catch up the body of the man he loved more than all the world beside, As he did this, the wild, savags, exultant yells of the Utes burst forth with doubled volume, and with the instinctive longing for vengeance which seems inborn, he jerked forth a revolver and sent a stream of bullets flying into the midst of the painted and feathered demons as they broke cover in their eagerness to complete the work so bloodily begun. If fortunate in one respect, that action was luckless in another, The fall of two of their number, just when they were beginning to believe the victory complete without even a wound for their side, sent the surviving red-skins back to cover with almost ludicrous haste, but it likewise concen- trated their attention on the still uncrippled giant, fiven as he opened fire, Napoleon Applejohn was lifting Light-neart Lute from the rocks his life-blood was staining, and when his pistol was emptied, he thrust it hastily into its holster, then used both hands to swing that limp, lifeless body across his shoulders. ith oo further thought than preserving the corpse of his loved comrade from further muti- lation, the giant sped away in reckless flight, aying no attention to the surviving gold- unters, sound or wounded, never once glanc- ing back to see if the red-skins were coming in chase, His actions were so swift, so unexpected, that the buraened man gained a considerable dis- tance before the Utes realized the fact of his flight, and even then, though they opened fire upon him, he was aided no little by the gold- hunters who had escaped immediate death when the ambuscade was unmasked, Those who, by some strange chance, had es- eaped unhurt from that first terrible volley, were also starting in headlong flight, either in hopes of escaping altogether, or of gaining some t where they might sell their lives more dear- y than in the open. And, too, here and there one of the injured, wild-beast like, longing for revenge even in death, drew pistols or raised rifles to fire at least a dying shot. All this belped distract the attention of the ex- ultant savages, and nodoubt to it the giant owed his immunity thus far. And yet, he did not escape entirely. An ar- row drove half its length through bis right arm, bloody head and painted feather quivering as those tough muscles checked its furtber pro- oe ess. Here and there a bit of whirring lead stung bis flesh, acting like so many keen spurs on a -Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. willing horse: he was not crippled, and only lengthened his might strides. But he swung that silent burdeu from his shoulders around in front of him, covering its vital points with his own body. He had never dared hope tbat Light-heart Lute was alive; from the very first te had be- lieved him dead, slain without knowing what bad brought about his death, without catching a glimpse of the enemy, or an echo of that horrid clamor, Yet—be would far rather bullet or arrow spent its foree on his body than to have that loved corpse further marred, Only once did he risk a glance backward; when the savage yells of the Utes burst fortu with greater vigor, mingling with rapid firing: and then it produced far more important results than even he could realize or foresee, The effort caused him to veer a little from a direct line of flight, and as he turned his head once more, he was just in time to avoid crashing into a ragged bowlder lying in front, by jump- ing desperately to one side, almost falling in his effort to save Light-beart Lute from the colli- sion. Little knowing what important results that step would lead up to, Poley sprung abruptly to the left, while by taking the right he would be more nearly following the direction in which they bad come, He dashed on, drawing a full breath as be fancied the danger passed, even then failing to note that the supposed bowlder was really the beginning of a rock wall, turning him into a side defile leading away from the narrow valley up which Old Crazy had led them that day. Still thinking only of getting his loved chum’s body out of the reach of those savage imps, Poley ran on, and on, a human machive of marvelous power and endurance. And still onward he would have pressed at top speed, until nature failed bim completely, but for an unseen vine which caught his foot and cast him headlong, _ He tried to save—not himself, but Light-heart Lute, clinging to the body with one arm, throw- ing out the other and trying to turn as he fell, to receive the first shock bimself; but only with partial success, Instead of striking the bare rock, they went Plunging into a mass of elastic vines and tiny dushes, Into and through them! Further yet! Down what seemed to be an unending slope, covered with sharp— Then the giant lost all consciousness. That insensibility did not last so very long, though the tumble he had taken seemed enough to have killed any ordinary mortal. And, lift- ing his dizzy, whirling, swimming bead, Poley Applejohn stared around him, his first thought now, as ever, for his loved chum, Although almost bis last memory was con- nected with the sun, shining full in his eyes as he fell, Poley found himself in obscurity like unto late dusk, and his first coherent thought was that he must have lain unconscious for hours, Then he heard a low, indistinct groan as of some one in pain, and guided thus, bis gaze fell upon the awkwardly doubled up figure of Light- heart Lute, lying in the gloom only a few feet away. Dim though the light was that came through & narrow opening some little distance from where they were lying, Poley at once recognized his pard, and with a he gasping cry, be drew to its side, lifting the young man in bis arms much as a mother handles her babe, ‘* Don’t—-twist my arm so—ballo, pard!” Faint, busky, hardly articulate the words, but never did mortal ear catch sweeter music! And Poley Applejobn sobbed and moaned and vainly tried to cheer all in a breath: for those words came from the lips of Light-heart Lute! Living, not dead! And for many moments, that one glorious fact was all the giant pard could comprebend, Little by little his intense emotion calmed, all the more quickly when he realized how badly Light-heart Lute had been injured, and how greatly he needed what assistance and comfort he could give him. The huge, metal flask which had once before played an important part in bringing back strength and vitality, was brought into play, and thanks to the stimulant thus administered, arrimer was soon able to have his hurts looked posiye taking stock himself with a languid curi- osity. He bad suffered more from that plunge into the cavern where the two pards now found + age i than he had at the weapons of the es, 11. than tear the scalp and produce temporary in- sensibility. But in that fall, besides many puin- ful truises, his left arm bad been broken be- tweeu wrist and elbow, ‘““Not so bad but what it might have been worse, eh, Poley?” spoke Lute, with something of his old cheerfulness. ‘*I’m stiil the Lad of Luck, even if it’s rather dun-colored! And— what turned up, anyway?” “‘Injuns. Run plum’ in the middle o’ a pile big ’nough fer to eat up two sech outfits,” grunted Applejobn, turning his head to cast a suspicious glance in the direction of the hole through which they had so strangely entered that retreat. ‘* Not out there—reckon?” ‘*T run a ways, but—” Light-heart Lute rose to his feet, but as quick- ly sunk back, his eyes blinded, bis head swim- ming. Applejohn made a grasp at bis falling form, and in missing it, brought the blood-wet sleeve of his shirt in contact with Lute’s face, The young man uttered a low ejaculation, brushing his sound hand across his eyes, then saying: ' ** And you—you’re burt—bad, old boy!” ‘* No, I ain’t—waal,” for the first time feeling a twinge as he shook his arm, ‘ jest a flea-bite, anyway.” But Light-heart Lute was already examining the massive arm, only satisfied when he knew that the wound was really nothing very serious. He insisted on having it cared for without fur- ther delay, but the giant pard shook off his loving touch, ‘“Time a-plenty. fer that, a’ter I’ve tuck a look—’pears like some o’ them dug-gun imps was chasin’ of us, an’— Le’ mego takea squint, anyway, boss!” ithout waiting for permission, Poley drew the loaded revolver which had not been Jost during flight or tumble, thanks to the spring-top of his holster, creeping silently up the steep slope leading to the partially masked entrance to the cavern into which they bad so fortunately tumbled, His brain was clearing rapidly, and he paused to listen intently before venturing to lift bis head high enough to catch a fair view of the outer world, He caught a faint, far-away yell, a couple of shots in quick succession, but that was all. Not a sound tbat cculd cause alarm came to his ears from any near point. He peered forth, without making any discov- ery worthy of note. And with a long breath of relief as he decided that, if followed, he bad luckily thrown the Indians off the track, he re- turned to his chum. Though less than five minutes were consumed by this precaution, Light-heart Lute seemed marvelously restored, looking, moving, talking almost like his old-time self; and in his grati- tude for this great boon, Poley Applejohn meekly submitted to being overbauled and stock taken of his injuries, These were nun erous enough and ugly enough to entitle any common man to a hospital ticket, but the giant made light of them in bis own way, using his arms after a fashion that plainly proved he was by no means disabled, The arrow had been broken by bis fall, and he pulled out the feathered end, is other arm had been yierced by a bullet, but the bone bad not suffered, Those two wounds were the worst, and though the giant declared that it was wasted pains, Light-heart Lute insisted in bind- ing up the hurts, witb Poley’s assistance. “*Luck’s changed a bit, pard, but still it might have been worse,” Lute nodded, when this was accomplished. ‘If the red-skins don’t drop in onus— What did you see outside, pard?” ‘“‘Not *nough fer to skeer me out 0’ takin’ ‘nother squint,” was the prompt response, as Applejobn turned toward the slope once more, ‘* Bt I didn’t lose the bead o’ me wuss than ever Old Crazy did, thar was a passel o’ reds a-fol- lerin’ of me. An’—TI’ll look, via boda ay He crept up. the slope, pausing to listen as be- fore. Hearing nothing to create alarm in bis mind, be raised his head through the opening, slowly sweeping his gaze around, when two shots came, ringing spitefully. CHAPTER XII. BARRED IN AND BARRED OUT. The shots came from directly in front of his face, though from the opposite side of the narrow valley or pass, and just as Applejohn caught sight of a figure—unmistakably clad in white- man style, though those twin puffs of blue smoke Only one bullet bad struck him, and | came too quickly for even his keen eyes to note that glanced from his skull without doing more ! more.
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Dal Ee on EE = Se — —— — 4 12 ooo —— Instinectively he jerked bis head down and back, but not quick enough to have cheated death had the bullets been aimed with greater accuracy. As it was, they flattened on the flinty rock close beside him, stinging his face keenly with bits ot lead, completing the strange catas- trophe begun by his foot slipping from the rock- point against which it had been braced, To save himself, Applejohn flung out a hand, his strong fingers closing on a wedge-shaped piece of rock lying at tae foot of another and greater mass, His whole weight was cast upon that stone, and it came away in bis fingers, letting him slide swiftly down the slope, just as Light-heart Lute sprung forward with a warning shout: **Look out for the—” A heavy crash drowned the rest of his cry, and at the same time all light seemed blotted out! Lute hurled himself upon Poley, trying to drag or roll him to one side, fully expecting both would be crushed to pulp under the rocky mass which he had caught sight of as it started to fall. But—if such was to de their fate, it would all bave ended ere this! He was just able to realize this fact, then his whirling brain turned him sick, and be sunk in a limp and nerveless heap by the side of the bewildered giant. ; Poley was first to recover, though he had fared but roughly in bis tumble, and was still further put at a loss by the utter darkness which had fallen upon them, all in an instant. “Ef it ain’t all a hoodoo, then I want to— Good Lawd !” He sat staring upward at the entrance, now reduced to a narrow crevice, hardly wide enough for one to slip a flattened hand through, as the short ribbon of light assured him. ‘* Waal, I be dug-gun!” he once more ejacu- lated. ‘* [saw the rock falling, andIthought— Keep to one side, Poley!” unsteadily spoke Light- beart Lute, hardly able to realize taat there was no longer danger of that huge mass thun- dering down the slope to complete their ruia with death, It took some little time to clear their wits sufficiently to comprehend all that had hap- pened, and just how that all had come to pass; out in the end they managed to reason it out. Applejobn, on his first trip of inspection, had noticed the existence of a narrow shelf or nearly level reach of rock, wide enough for him to kneel upon with comfort while listening for the enemy without. He recalled, tvo, how he had tried to save himself from falling when his face was stung by those bullets, by catching the rock-wedge. And in describing how he saw what seemed to be half of the rock wall start to fall when Poley came slipping Gown the slope, Light-heart explained that nearly total eclipse of the light. “Waal, it’s got alevel bottom to rest on, an’ I reckon it'll hold tight long ’nough ferme to try fer ’nother peep, any way,” decided the giant pard, rising and shaking himself, rnaking sure ‘that bis pistol had received no material injury, but was in good working order, The Ladof Luck caught his arm, but Poley won his way, for Lute, too, had caught the echo of those nearly fatal shots, Since enemies were , so near, the soover they learned all they could about their defenses, the better. Aud by. insist- ing on bearing hischum company, Lute com- promised the matter. ' Together they cautiously crept up the slope, now rendered doubly difficult by the almost com- plete darkness. They carefully avoided touching the fallen rock in any part, until after listening intently for any suspicious sounds from outside. At first they heard nothing, and bad Poley been less certain that he ha@caught sight of a buman figure, and had not his still smarting cheek significantly reminded him how narrowly those shcts had missed the target at which they had almost certainly been aimed, he might have believed that but part of the ‘‘ hoodoo” which he felt had been cast over them as a spell, “But I ketched as fa’r a squint as ever— thar!” He jerked his head swiftly back from the nar- row crevice through which he was about to at- tempt a look, for just at that instant a number of shots rung out distinctly, plainly discharged at no great distance, and closely followed by the wild, fierce war-cry of the Utes, . The two pards instinctively shrunk as far to one side as their situation would permit, their first and most natural idea being that the In- dians had discovered their presence, thongh an instant’s reflection told them how highly im- eee - Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. probable that was. Even with the keenest eyes in all the Ute tiibe pressed close to that narrow crack, all within would have been an utter blank in that gloom. ‘“Tain’t us, don’t ye see?” guardedly mut- tered the giant, after several more shots rung forth. ‘‘ They haim’t even one pill hit the rocks anv ways nigh to us,” Even as the last words passed his lips, a glimpse of the truth was granted them, fora loud, hoarse shout came to their ears—a sound which no red-skin ever born could have given birth to, **They’re whites—our pards!” panted Light- heart Lute, greatly excited by the discovery, ‘“‘ Try to roll the rock back, man! I can’t stay idle here while they—” “‘Stiddy, lad!” interrupted Poley, slipping a broad palm over those lips, a strange glow leaping into his own eyes. ‘‘ It was a white man as tried to pot me, back yen’!” *€' You don’t—” “*T see’d him plainer, a heap sight, then I’m seein’ you this minute, Lute,” was the swift re- tort, ‘* An’ I kin ’most make oath it was Showy Joe Hoover, him own dirty self, too!” He spoke too earnestly for his meaning to he mistaken, and for a brief space Light-heart Lute remained irresolute, He recalled how viciously the flashy gambler had acted, both toward Old Crazy and himself, before that ill-starred journey was begun. He remembered, too, how on two different occa- sions some of their number had expressed a belief that their party was being spied upon, and their conviction that when the bonanza was finally reached, they would have to fight for their claims against heavy odds. At the time he had paid little attention to these muttered forebodings, wholly absorbed as he was in trying to solve his hopes and fears concerning the identity of Old Crazy with his long-missing parent; but now it all came back to him. Still— ‘“They’re white, and so are we, Poley Apple- john!” he firmly said, his hand grasping the edge of the mighty rock, ‘‘Lay hold, pard! We'll help lick the Injuns first, then lick Showy Joe if we have to, later!” Silently the giant complied, but their utmost efforts were in vain. Ten-fold their force could not return the mighty rock to its former resting- place, though so little had sufficed to destroy its cunning balance, They could not secure a fair hold, nor bad they sufficient foothold to brace them at their best. The rock did move, perceptibly, but to- ward the cavern, if anything. When he saw this, Poley slipped down the in- cline, groping around until he found the rock- wedge which he had involuntarily carried with him on a former descent. Returning with this, he carefully inserted the thinner edge under the rock on the side toward the cavern, drawing a ful], free breath when this was done, ‘*Ef we was outside, with room a’cordin’ to our size, mebbe we mought be able fer to upsot the hull business; but we're tm, an’ they ain’t a dug-guu bit more room hyar then we kin keep healthy our own two lonesome selves—no, they ain’t, now!” Light-hbeart Lute made no reply, for none was needed, He read the thoughts that lay back of that action, and he felt that Poley was acting all for the best, Even if those shots at the giant’s head had been fired by mistake, under the impression that he was an Indian, and by one of their late com- panions, those savage yells—now no longer to be, heard—only too plainly proved tbat they had bitter, relentless enemies near at hand, True, there was nothing to show which party had conquered in that brief fight just past, though the chances seemed against their own color; but since they could not get out them- selves, there could be no barm in barring out all others, Time enough to ask their help when they were satisfied of their being friends, They waited where they were until the light gradually faded away, though their position was anything but comfortable on that narrow ledge, ending as it did only a few feet to the left of the narrow crack, *“T reckon the circus is over, Lute,” at length said Poley, in low, grave tones, ‘It’s kinder stiffenin’ the ole man up, sech close quarters, but ef you say stay—all right!” ‘“No, We'll go down. If we could be of any service to those poor fellows, it’d be dif- ferent. But— Yes, we'll go down, Poley.” It was not often Light-heart Lute was hoeowe to sigh, but he gave one then, born of his utter inability to aid and assist those of his own race 1 who might even then be suffering agonies of torture in the pitiless hands of the [ndians, ‘* Ef they raally need help, I reckon they’re long sence past needin’ of it, pard,” said the giant, as they began the descent, Not particularly clear, but Light-heart bad no difficulty iu divining his real meaning. They reached the bottom of the slope in safety, and picking out as comfortable a loca- tion as they uught, through the sense of feeling alone, they curled up their legs and seitled down, to talk in guarded whispers, There was enough in their present situation to afford ample food for thought, if not discussion, but neither was quite ready to squarely face that awkward problem, Time enough §when they had fairly rallied from all they had thus far undergone. As before stated, Light-heart Lute had seen nothing of the massacre at the pass, falling at the first volley from the Utes, Poley had seen but little more, yet what he had seen was clear- ly impressed upon his mind, and when Light- heart Lute questioned him, he told all he knew without reserve, While picking up his chum, and emptying his revolver into the ranks of the yelling Utes, he caught a glimpse of Old Crazy. But a glin'pse, as he admitted, yet that one brief picture gave them both food for thought. ‘‘ Thar he was, ahind the red-skins, jest rear- in’? up on his hind legs, shakin’ all two both o’ his fists at us, bis mouth wide open like be was pourin’ out cusses fit to blast.a cast-iron monkey! Aw ef he wasn’t doin’ of jest that, then [ cain’t guess fer sour apples!” ‘*Then you think he led us into the trap, knowingly, pard?” slowly asked Light-heart Lute, his usual gravity betraying how deeply that description affected him, ‘* T leave it to you, Lute. way?” ‘* But—he kept warning us that all who fol- lowed him would share the bitter, black curse under which he lived!” ‘* An’ couldn’t he see that the of’ener he said that, the heap-sight hotter we-all was to keep on a follerin’?” Ligbt-heart Lute made no reply. The case looked black enough against Old Crazy, yet he could not believe the veteran was altogether evil. For—more strongly than ever did he be- lieve that in this crazed being, he would eventu- ally find his long lost father! For many minutes their silence was unbroken, both gazing half dreamily up at that narrow crevice through which now twinkled a bright star. Until—all of a sudden the hght was blot- ted outi Their hands sought each the other, and listen- ing breathlessly they sat waiting. Something or so.ne one surely was— Ha! A low, guttural voice came down to them: the voice of a Ute brave! Don’t it smell that CHAPTER XIIL RED CATS AND WHITE MICE, Ir was only an ejaculation, Or, possibly, a sig- nal tosome not distant companion, but despite that, and in spite of the distance between the blocked entrance and their present position. both Light-beart Lute and Poley Applejobn firmly believed they recognized the voice of an Indian, in-tead of one of their own color. The star shone again, for @ moment or two, then was once more blotted out by the shifting of the body outside the fallen rock, The chums tightened their grip as their sharpened sense of hearing detected the faint shuffling of other footsteps on the rocks be- yond, after whieh they were not kept long in waiting before having their first impression fully confirmed, They distinctly beard @ short, guttural sen- tence, then, after a barely perceptible pause, a response in a tone ® key higher pitched, as though question and answer had been exchanged by those without. EF r Neither Lute vor Applejohn were acquainted with the Ute patois, but while they could only guess at the meaning of those words, they could no longer doubt the color or race of the speakers, “Injuns, by glory!” softly murmured Poley, . his bearded lips brushing the ear of his young ard, pm Sure!” came the response in the same guarded tones, ‘Steady! Just slide along, out o’ the way if the—front door is kicked in!” *¢ Done locked—can’t come in!” , » The giant smothered a satisfied chuckle as he rembered how carefully he bad pressed that stone wedge home, and though fairly confident { a
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ahi giNee: x ’ | Old * Cc razy, the Man Without a Head. 13 rocky mass inward, so long as his “key” held its position, he silently complied with the hint given by the Lad of Luck. vee ; Although this change of position hindered them from marking the movements of the red- skins as closely, through the change from light to darkness, and vice versa, by means of the erack and the bright star so far away, by keep- ing their ears on tue alert, the chums could make a fairly accurate guess as to What was going on outside. ‘ ; “While sweating a mighty sight less,” Light- heart Lute whispered to the giant, with a faint sigh of relief. q He could not forget the awful horror which had assailed him when fully expecting that rocky mass to thunder down the slope and crush both Poley and himself to a bideous pulp. i Even Applejobn felt @ bit more secure, despite his firm faith in the efficacy of his stone key. For, after a few minutes spent iv low talk, the Utesattempted to remove the rock which blocked the entrance to the cavern. “That does settle it!” grimly muttered Lar- rimer, under cover of the noise made by that ’ effort. ‘‘ The imps knew of this hole before, and know that dornick didn’t shift position without | help!” , “Looks that way, sure!” softly rumbled the giant, in return. “Ef they didn’t foller my trail this fur, or didn’t was nigh ’nough to see ‘jest the p’int that dug-gun fool white critter was peggin’’way at. Ef they did that—” He left the sentence incomplete, and both gripped, their weapons tightly, instinctively in- haling long breaths, like men who feel a tough figbt is coming swiftly. For, just then a sound, beginning at the fallen-rock, and rattling down the slope, told of a loosened fragment. And | their natural belief was that the stone key had been shaken from its hold, after which— ' Neither cared to go beyond that point, even in thought, And in stern, grim silence they | awaited thesend, Minute after minute passed by, without the rocky mass toppling over to leave the entrance : free to the red-skins, and once more the penned- | in fugitives begun to hope for better things, Poley Applejobn reached out and groped around in the utter darkness until his fingers closed upon the fragment of rock the falling of which had so startled’ them. He could hard- ly smother his cry of delighted relief as he felt that this was neither the whole nor a part of his stone key. **T knew it couldn’t be, an’ I was a dug-gun foo] fer ever thinkin’ it could be!” was his blun- dering, but perfectly sincere whisper, as he made his discovery known to his chum, Up to this time, the movements of the enemy | without had been masked as much as possible, true to their crafty nature, and the caution they displayed was sure proof that they knew ) the fallen rock kept them from some of their hereditary enemies, That it had fallen, and recently, they must | have. felt assured, either from some outward signs, or because they were familiar with the opening which that fall had closed. In no other ee could their actions be fully accounted or. Having failed to remove that barrier by masked means, they now called undisguised force into play, hammering away at tbe edge with something in the shape of a ram: log or | stone, the chums could only guess. “You're mighty good-lookin’, but ye cain’t come in!” softly chanted the giant, his memory going back to the happy nights when he had so often ‘shaken a foot” to the tune of that old song. ‘ Pressutiy the hammering ceased, and after a brief period of quiet, a red glare lit up the darkness, and with a thunderous report, a gun or pistol was discharged by having its muzzle first thrust into the crack so often alluded to, The bullet wasted its force on the rock floor, or by glancing from tbat to the wall above or reed Such salutes could do no harm to the chums, since they were far to one side of the line of fire. ‘Just make a smell, and that won't last long!” yawned the Lad of Luck, beginning to feel the need of repose, now that the mental strain was slackened. ‘‘ Poley?’ | ee rg i hyar, Lute.” as ‘If those villains manage to kick in the front door, and the racket don’t fetch me up all-stand- ing, give me a bunch, will you?” ** You aio’t shorely—” “T shorely am, Poley!” witb another irresisti- ble yawn. “‘ Warm your hoofs before you craw] into bed, or lay awake to make sure you don’t Prat nothing short of powder could force that | fool me into feeling like a married man by giv- ing me an arctic shock. Sabe, Poley?”’ f Poley replied, his words were drowned by a couple of shots fired through the crack by the baffled red-skins. But the Lad of Luck was too sleepy to repeat his words, aud curling up in as comfortable a position as he could command, Light-heart Lute was not long awake, No more shots were fired by the Utes, and as only the echoes answered by way of paying them for the waste of ammunition, they may have decided that their first belief was wrong; ae none of the fugitives had found refuge be- ow, Be that as it may, no further efforts were made to remove the rock barrier, and aiter list- ening intently for possibly half an hour, Poley Applejobn cautiously crept up the slope to listen With bated breath at the narrow crevice. Neither voice nor footfall met his ear, and when full ten minutes crept by with nothing more alarming than the faint moaning of the night wind among the rocky peaks and defiles without, the giant pard as quietly returned to his station beside the soundly slumbering lad. Satisfied now that even if the Utes had not | given over the quest for good and all, that they could not effect an ‘entrance without making sufficient noise to rouse him from the soundest slumber, Poley Applejohn also curled himself up, and before long fell asleep. The remainder of that night was spent with- out further alarm, and when Light-heart,Lute roused up with a start and an ejaculation, almost the first thing his eyes ‘fell upon was a bree slant of yellow light coming down the in- cline. ** Mornin’, pard,” cheerily came to his ears, though in guarded tones. ‘* Begun ’tottbink I’d hev to change the name of it to dinner, from the rate you was playin’ that bazoo—not to say snorin’!” ‘** Dinner?” yawned the Lad of Luck, rubbing his eyes with bis sound hand and sitting up. “Td begin to grow fatif I could only see the ghost of a mouthful of—why, you delicious old villain, you!” “IT was jest gwine to bide it whar it’d do the most good to my own ribs,” meekly rumbled Poley, as his chum stared at the “spread” of cold meat and crushed “ hunk” of ‘ dovgh- boy” which the giant had provided for that awakening. ‘‘ But sence you've ketched me at it, reckon I'll hev to go snucks—eh?” ‘* Tell you later; no time to talk until— Reckon any of those copper-colored cat’s’ll jump down on us Poley?” ‘“They’s done skun out, I reckon,” was the quiet response, ‘‘I can’t see no signs ‘ith eyes or ears, an’ I’ve bin up yender three times sence gittin’ up.” Satisfied on this point, Light-heart Lute fell to eating, too hungry to feel the lack of water, though it was but a dry breakfast, at best. The agreeable task was a short one, for the supply | was small. ‘‘ Now for taking a stroll outside, Poley,” he said, rising to his feet. . CHAPTER XIV, THE GHOST OF A FIDDLE. ‘“‘ WHICH’LL ye try fu’st, Lute; the front door, or the back yard?” “The back—what d’ye mean by tbat, old man?” ejaculated the Lad of Luck, mechanically turning his face in the direction opposite the entrance above. Applejohn quickly explained, Lute listening with growing interest. ‘ The giant had not been idle since awakening at the first dawn of day, and though the gloom with which that lower level was naturaliy en- shronded, hindered bim from doing much more than feeling about, he bad explored their present quarters sufficiently to ascertain that its dimensions were much greater than either of them had suspected, up to the present time. ‘J ain’t sayin’ that it’s anythin’ more’n a big hole in the airth, ye want to mind, = cial he added, prudently, to temper the sudden glow of hope which he caught fiashing into those wide-open blue eyes, ‘*Mebbe thar _ain’t no other way out ’ceptin’? up yen’—an I’ve see’d *nough to be pritty sure that we cain’t make the riffle thar ’thout help from t’other side—but we kin take a look, fur’s it goes.” ‘*Or break our blessed neck trying!” grumbled juste, Fee ig at the bank of darkness lying yond, } “Waal, ’tain’t so mighty bad as that comes to, nuther,” chuckled Poley, who seemed to de- light in breaking his news by degrees. ‘‘ Mebbe you’ve met up ‘ith tonier lamps ur kendles then ‘ : this ’sortment, but when a critter cain’t do better, he’s a hog ef he cain’t come down to wuss "thout gruntin’ too mighty of’en. ‘* An—” ‘* Burr-r-r!” chattered Light-heart Lute, hunching up bis shoulders and drawing in bis bead with a counterfeit shiver. ‘‘ Dreadful windy, this morning, isn’t it, old man?” Applejohn grinned good-naturedly as he accepted the vailed hint, and without further explanation showed the Lad of Luck his dis- covery: a mass of dry sticks, leaves and pine cones, lying in a little excavation under the wall on the side of the incline opposite to their sleeping-place. t was evidently the nest or bed of some wild animal, though the absence of disagreeable odor proved it to have been long deserted. As Poley hinted, the material might bave been better adapted to their needs, but with proper precautions it could be made to answer. ‘*For, even if the hole runs back any great distance, ’'m not so sure we'd be acting wisely in straying far from this spot,” thoughtfully observed Light-heart, glancing back at that ray of light. ‘‘ Wouldn't it be wisest to put in our time trying to open that bole, and trust to Juck for dodging the red-skins when once outside?” ‘“*T don’t b’lieve it kin he opened, but thar’s alays time to come try, when they ain’t nothin’ else to do.” ** Provided hunger don’t get away witb us!” The giant chuckled grimly, tapping his ca- pacious pockets, ‘““Ye’ve done ett our day’s rations, an I kep’ back ’nough to make two moresech’visions, We kin a’ford to putt in one day ’splorin’, ef the hole stretches back that fur, I reckon.” ‘** Haven’t got a keg of water stowed away with the grub, have you?’ ‘* Wish I hed! Which is jest one more reason fer settlin’ down to work in a solid hurry.” Stowing away the extra cones in their pockets, making a bundlo of the sticks not required for the first set of torches, the wounded refugees were not long in preparing for their venture, each one eager to learn the truth of what lay before them. Blocked by that mass of rock, they could still indulge in hopes of ultimate freedom as long as an incognita Jay ahead. Not knowing bow long that exploration would last, only one torch was kindled, Lute holding his in reserve, held by the sling sup- porting his broken arm, thus permitting him to carry a drawn revolver in his serviceable hand. Neither man had retained his Winchester, both huving been dropped when the Utes un- masked their death-trap the day before; but they were liberally provided with cartridges, and could bold their own against any reason- able odds in case a fight for life lay awaiting them. Poley quickly led the way past the point to which his gropings in the dark had reached, and then he was fully as eager as bis chum, strain- ing his eyes to see what lay beyond the narrow a of the light cast in advance by his smoky torch. The walls of the cavern had drawn closer to- gether, as well as lowered in height, but. in- stead of coming to an end, they ran along, form- ing an irregular tunnelor pass, Here they wid- ened into a small chamber, then contracted until there was barely room for the chums to proceed abreast, causing their hearts to throb more rapidly with the dread that the end of their exploration had come so soon. But as time passed on and their journey lengthened without such an ending, their fears grew less and their hopes raised in proportion, “Luck forever!” cried Lute, cheerily. ‘* Dol- lars to cents that it runs clear under the range!” ‘* Waal, that’s no reason why you want to send notice we’re comin’, pardner,” grimly re- proved the giant,stopping short as his imp: ovised torch suddenly droppid to pieces in his hand. ““T hev knowed men who got rich by waitin’ on- tel they knowed they was somethin’ to holler fer, afore splittin’ tha’r gle eg : ** And I’ve known men who never hollered at all, simply because they waited until the chance ad passed them by unimproved,” laughed Lute, accepting the vailed reproof all in good part. Though they bad matches in abundance, it proved no easy task to set the second torch alight, and they were both engaged thus, when each gave a Start, catching their breath sharply, leaning forward to peer into the darkness, Faint, indistinct, now dying entirely away, then swelling to clearness, a strange sound came to — ears; doubly strange in such a location as this, “Ef it ain’t—the ghost of a fiddle!” gasped
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, believe his own senses fur some minutes, but the ee Old Crazy — a ee i in eg nt = 7 -F PF one ee a ee oh a Poley, in awe-stricken tones, lifted barely above | from Poley’s shoulder, and dressing the hurt thus his breath, The same wild fancy bad struck Ligbt-heart Lute, incredible as it appeared. He could not longer they listened, the plainer the music sounded, almost as though the unseen musician was slowly approaching them, Then, with a low smothered cry, the younger refugee moved forward through the intense gloom, no longer thinking of torch-lighting, in- tent only on solving that riddle—on once for all proving the truth or falsity of bisstrange belief. “Stiddy, Lute!” warningly muttered Poley, springing forward and catching Larrimer by a sleeve, ‘ Mabbe thar’s a hole ahead in the dark, an’—ketch me, so!” Having won the lead, the giant kept on, slip- ping his feet along the uneven floor to guard against plunging into a possible pitfall, satisfied inflicted. He declared that it was nothing but a flea- bite, yet he shrunk and quivered. as those little brown fingers touched his bared shoulder, for Little Chiquita insisted on bandaging the wound her hands had inflicted. And asshe saw this nervous shrinking, pity came into her great black eyes, and there were almost tears in her musical voice as she begged his forgiveness for harming him so shamefully. ** You didn’t—you couldn’t—I!’d jest like to hev ye—” the wounded giant began stammering, when Light-heart Lute maliciously imitated the angry spitting snarl of the wildcat to which, in his excitement, Poléy had unluckily likened this charming creature. Little Chiquita whirled swiftly, reaching out for bow and arrow, completely deceived by’ that imitation, but Poley interpreted it aright, and to run all risks so long as he could bear the brunt, The music grew clearer, louder inits wailings, until all doubt was ended: some one was playing the violin ahead of them, and at no very great distance. And—who could that musician be, but Old Crazy? ‘**T don’t reckon it’s a Injun,” muttered Poley, drawing and cocking a revolver, ‘‘ But the old *ecoon was in the middle of a wheen o’ the copper imps when [I see’d him last, an’ mabbe thar’s some 0’ the kit a-stickin’ to him till yit!” If Light-heart Lute heard, he could not be said to beed, for with the notes of that fiddle— playing the old song which had produced such a curious effect on the old miner—came his recent | hopes of discovering a long-lost parent, with re- loubled force, As the music itself gave fair warning, they had not much further to grope, presently catch- ing sight of a faint glow, which grew brighter with each step, until the red light of an open fire became visible, Still nearer the two chums crept, Light-heart Lute only seeing those two figures in the fire- glow, Poley gazing warily about in quest of more dangerous lookivg strangers, The musician was indeed Old Crazy, sitting on a pile of skins near tho fire, his cheek lovingly resting on an end of a rude-looking, self-made vivlin, across the strings of which he was draw- ing an equally clumsy bow; yet from that un- couth combination he drew sounds full of sweet, melancholy music of which a professor might have felt proud. Little Chiquita was standing near, to one side, ber clear profile visible to the chums as her head bowed in listening. For a few moments this tableau lasted, to be broken by the girl, whose head suddenly lifted, whose dark eyes flashed swiftly about. But then, with a slight yawn and languid lifting of the arms, like one fatigued or sleepy, Chiquita moved across to where a bow and quiver hung to a point of rock. Taking these, stringing the one and slinging the other across her shoulder,she came back to the fire, moving so easily, so unsuspiciously,that even Poley Applejohn never once divined the truth, until the bold girl had accomplished ker purpose, Shielding Old Crazy with her own fair body, Chiquita sent arrow after arrow into the gloom where they stood! ‘Hold! we are friends, Old Crazy!” cried Lute, springing forward. Pe CHAPTER XV. WHO IS OLD CRAZY? Yer once again Poley i fo om proved his devotion to bis chum, leaping forward and swing- ing Light-heart Lute to one side, interposing his own huge bulk just in time to catch the next ar- row in bis shoulder. But that was Little Chiquita’s last shot, with the chums fora target, for a second mighty bound carried the giant near enough tocatch the fair amazon in his arms, holding her helpless while crying aloud to his friend: ‘* Wake up the ole critter, Lute! Make him show this pesky wildcat the differ’ atwixt fri’nds an’ inemies, or—” Most fortunately the surprise did not throw Oid Crazy completely off his balance, and though it cost a good many words to make him fairly realize that it was nota ghost froma bloody grave that confronted his startled gaze, in the end a perfect understanding was arrived at, For some time after Little Chiquita was made to understand that she had been fighting friends instead of enemies, there was considerable em- ‘barrassment felt on both sides, which was not lessened by the necessity of extracting the arrow for the first time since their alliance began, he felt like thrashing the Lad of Luck. His confusion, the low laugh of Lute, the grim ehuckle given by Old Crazy, all combined to bring back her memory, and thenit was Little Chiquita’s turn to show embarrassment. Still, the wound was attended to, at length, and all explanations were gotten over with, Little Chiquita had not actually caught sight of the chums before she interposed her body as a shield to that of her father, and began sending her feathered shafts into the gloom beyond, but she caught sounds that warned her some person or some thing was stealing upon them, and her first thought was of Little Bird, the Ute brave. When she humbly asked forgiveness for her mistake, both chums granted it pag Light- heart Lute in words, Poley with his big blue eyes. Then Old Crazy told his story, and the chums explained how they escaped the ambuscade and wandered to that particular spot. This interchange put them all on good terms, for Little Chiquita had already learned how the chums risked their, own lives to save her father from the diggers, before that ill-starred bargain was struck, She said little; but en- deavored by her actions and her care for their comfort, to make them understand how grateful she felt. Old Crazy looked and acted much more like a completely sane being than he had at any time since their first meeting; and abandoning his be- loved fiddle for the time being, he explained their present location, its advantages and its drawbacks, It was only one of the many snug retreats which he had formed or discovered during his wild life, and the one which he felt was least liable to discovery by the Utes, should they per- sist in searching for their escaped captives, It was well supplied with food, in the shape of dried meat and smokcd fish. It contained a living spring of water, and had many cun- ning nooks where one might hide or, if brought a ; Y, make a strong fight for life against as, On the other hand, it was perilously near the Ute encampment, and if the quest was sufticient- ly prolonged, discovery of the cavern must al- most certainly be made in the end. The remainder of that day was spent in con- verse, in eating and drinking, with an _ oc- casional tune from Old Crazy’s fiddle, which impeee he exhibited with genuine pride. nd Light-heart Lute spent considerable time in talking to Little Chiquita, doing his best to win her perfect confidence. Poley, on the contrary, just as Lute advanced, seemed to retreat, until be kept apart from all, ave and even gloomy, He explained this al- Seration by hinting at his fear of being surprised by the Utes, but his eyes gave his tongue the e. He was not octually jealous of his chum: that could never be, for, as a matter of course, ‘everything good and choice was Larrimer’s by right. But—if he had not been so infernally idiotic as to call ber—her /—a wildcat ! It was not until the night had passed, and the second day was well advanced, that Light- heart Lute felt he had gained Little Chi- uita’s confidence sufficiently to risk ques- tioning her on the point ever uppermost in his mind, Old Crazy was lost in his beloved music, play- ing softly, slowly, as much from choice as through dread of reaching unfriendly ears with his sweet strains, Poley was invisible, doubtless “on guard,” as he would have said, but in reality gazing upon those two graceful figures sitting 80 close together, talking in soft whispers, et neither spoke a word which he might not ee ke "tl At aa! av af ‘ L st Of acs oh leccsli Ce , the Man Without a Head. have beard, and in welcome, lover-like thou N his fancy interpreted their attitude and dem meanor toward each other, Little Chiquita was giving the history of Old Crazy, so far as she knew it, deftly drawn on to perfect frankness by the adroit questions asked by the Lad of Luck. Yes, the being be knew only as Old Crazy was ber own father. He had falien into the hands of the Utes, many years ago, nearly fam- ished, in rags, bearing many still sore hurts on his person, She could say this much, for she had often heard her mother repeat the words, That mother was then living with the same band of Indians, She was one of them, so far as birth and training went, though her heart seemed even more white than her skin. She was the only child of a white captive, taken from a train of emigrants by the chief who af- terward made her bis squaw. And, in turn, Little Chiquita was the only child of dla Crazy and the sad-eyed, half-breed woman, This, in substance, was the account which Light-heart Lute extracted from the maiden. He could not doubt her perfect honesty, though he knew that, should Old Crazy really prove to be his father, lost track of so maty years ago, this girl, his half-sister, must have been quite a child when Stephen rrimer’s lawful wife died, Varying his questions, and trying al] he knew to draw forth some word or point on which he could fix as a beginning to unravel the perplex- ing enigma, Light-heart Lute spent fully two hours in that close companionship, the end of that interval leaving poor Poley Applejohn in a truly lamentable condition of mind, For the first time in his thirty years of life, the giant pard had tumbled over head and ears in love, lready, though he had hardly inter- changed two-score words with Little Chiquita, he felt that life without her for a mate, would be hardly worth enduring. With any other person for a rival, the bi fellow would have made a good fight for himsel and the glorious prize; but not against the Lad of Luck. If his choice had fallen there, let him win, undisputed, Such loyal friendship is seldom met with among-men, and when it és heard of, the listen- ers are not apt to scoff or jeer, calling the one au idiot and the other a knave, if not branding the recorder as a liar of monumental dimen- sions. Neither laugh, jeer nor taunt can change the record, however, , When Larrimer broke off his questions, he was almost as much in the dark as at first. He had not solved the question of who was Old Crazy, and he began to fear be would never grow any wiser on that perpleane point, After a period of silence, Little Chiquita arose and passed over to where her father was still caressing his fiddle, while Light-beart Lute also rose, to seek out his chum, And Poley’s first low growl told that he had caught at least a — portion of that talk; the finish, explaining bow they had fled from the Utes because of the loy- erly persecutions of Little Bird. “‘Dug-gun the copper-hide! Jes’ let me git a grip opto him, an’ ef I leave him a weenty feather to— ok!” From out of the gloom beyond the fire-lit circle, a nearly nude, painted and be-feathered shape leaped, knocking Old Crazy over with a vicious sweep of a tomahawk, then clasping Little Chiquita in his sinewy arms as a wild, exultant yell parted his lips. It was Little Bird, the Ute warrior! | _- CHAPTER XVI. LIFE OUT OF DEATH. THaT was the last war-cry Little Bird ever pas this side of the happy hunting-grounds, at least. With a roar that filled the entire cavern, Poley Applejohn bounded forward, never seeing, never hearing the Indians who rushed from the darkness to back up their leader. _ His only thought was of rescuing Little Chi- quita and punishing that paint-bedaubed de- mon, The Ute turned half-way at that roar, and struck viciously with his tomahawk, droppi his prize to defend himself. Poley dashed 9s weapon and arm aside, then gripped the savage by the throat, whirling him clear of his feet, then hurling bis full against the on-coming Utes, throwing them into confusion and upsettiug at least two-thirds of their namber, At the same time the Lad of Luck came with a rush, sending bullets ahead of him, only drop- body arourd and letting it ly —
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re ) “a ay Se "Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. g pistol for knife when he dared fire no ee: if Poeet lest he hit the giant instead of an Indian. It was a wild scramble for a few seconds; it could not last longer, for lack of material, for with such a raging hercules in full swing, work is terribly swift and horribly thorough. It was all over by the time Littie Chiquita re- covered her footing and snatched up ber bow, Almost tearing Poley away from the no longer resisting enemy, Lute had him bear the senseless musician out of the light, where they would at least be safe from anything like deli- berately aimed lead or arrows, It did not seem possible that their victory could be socomplete. Surely some of the Utes had jescaped that crazy charge? Or, if not, others must be coming up? While thus wondering, Ligbt-heart was recharging his revolver, feeling morally certain that every shot would be required before the end, Yet, that was accomplished, and still no further attack! . : ‘Clean sweep, or I’m a liar!” muttered Poley, drawing @ long sigh as he turned away from where Little Chiquita was sobbing over her father, lying so still and unresponsive to her tender caresses, her prayers, her pleading for just a_word, a sign that death had not claimed her only loved one. ‘ You help her, Lute. I’m oin’ to see what's the lookout,’ “Pll go with you, for— - No, yow’re right, old man,” brokenly said hischum, ‘ You can hold the entrance alone, if they haven’t got inside already, If they have—well, we'll die together, at any rate!” Afraid to risk a light lest it direct the enemy too plainly, the Lad of Luck knelt beside the motionless body, trying to learn the full extent of his injuries by passing his sound fingers over the bleeding skull. But before he could discover more than that Little Bird had used the side of his tomahawk, instead of striking with the blade, Light-heart caught the sound of rapid firing in the direction of the cave entrance, and knowing that Poley wasin trouble he barely lingered long enough to warn Little Chiquita against exposing herself to the light, then dashed away to back up his chum. He drew a long breath of glad relief when he caught a glimpse of daylight without meeting the enemy, for now he knew that the giant pard had been justin time to check the in-coming of the savages, ‘“‘ Make room for your uncle, Poley,” he cried, cheerily, sending a bullet into the broad chest of a painted warrior, who was coming with a rush that betrayed a recklessness usually foreign to red-skin nature. ‘* Follow suit, old man, and we'll take every trick !” Sheltered themselves, with a background of gloont, while the Utes were forced to cross an open, level stretch of ground before they could plunge into that dark opening, now fully un- masked by Little Bird as he led his half-dozen braves in advance of the main force, the odds were not so terribly unequal, after all. And while their pistols beld out, the chums felt fully able to “ hold the fort.” After that— A question they were not called on to answer, most providentially ! ith a hoarse, united cheer, there came a volley of rifle-balis from a strong force of white men, and with yells of dismay, all of the Utes who were able todo so, turned to seek safety in headlong flight, And five minutes later, the chums were laughing and shaking hands witb—the very citizens from whom they had stolen away under cover of darkness, mnore than a week before! __ rescuers, And though there was a strange, once under the clear light of day, it was seen how terribly the giant had avenged that insult offered the maiden whom he loved. He had used only his bare hands, and that grip had Jasted but a few seconds; yet the head hung as though it had never known a support- ing column. After the dead Indians were disposed of, explanations were in order on both sides, and quickly made, That given by the chums does not require repetition, and that of ths rescuing party can be almost as briefly disposed of. They had managed to follow the trail of the party led by Old Crazy, and pressing on at top speed until fairly sighting them, bad from that time rested content with sending a trusty man or two in advance, to follow the leading party, using all precaution to avoid being discovered, lest the old man take fright and refuse to act as guide any longer, or else lead them from, rather than to, his coveted bonanza, They bad not been near enough to take a hand in the fight following the ambuscade, though they had been the means of saving several of the fugitives, among them Bat Johnson, And they declared, positively, that if those two shots which so narrowly missed killing Poley Apple- john, had been discharged by a white man, he could not have formed one of their number, Showy Joe Hoover was not with them—had not been with them since their striking the right trail. It was only a lucky chance that led them to be so near the spot when the Utes made their savage onset. They were in hiding, waiting for the scouts whom they had sent out to learn how strong a force the Indians could muster, before making any further efforts to find the coveted bonanza, Light-heart Lute made known the agreement entered. into with Ojd Crazy on condition that he point out his bonanza, and asked the men now present to ratify it. They instantly agreed to do so, and from that moment everything was harmonious. It was nearly two days later before Light- heart Lute questioned Old Crazy as to his past, and then he learned the truth—far different from what his fond hopes had painted it! His real name was William Blackwood, and he could only es that his long insanity must have been caused by an injury to his brain, re- ceived when he fell into a deep gulch. Of his after-life, only a dim, indistinct memory re- mained, though this appeared go be growing clearer as he gradually recove his strength and overcame that terrible shock given him by Little Bird’s hatchet-stroke. Light-heart Lute was reluctant to abandon the wild hope which had Jed him so far, but, as the days went on, and Blackwood was better able to recall his past, he was forced to do so, Now, as for so many years, the mystery envel- oping the fate of Stephen Larrimer was un- solved, *But Pll learn the truth before I die!” de- clared the young man, earnestly. William Black wood—no longer ‘‘ Old Crazy ” —pointed out his gold-bearing tract, and all hands held aloof until after two claims of regu- lation siza had been selected and properly staked off. Then lots were drawn, and claims chosen, given a show and Lute seriously doubted, the real culprit was / os which worked such an unexpected re- sult, If he was really innocent, which both Poley never discovered, THE END. beaille's Half-Dime Library. BY J, ©. COWDRICK, 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. 869 Shasta, the Gold King} or, For Seven Years Dead. 420 The pelective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a Name. 424 Cibuta John; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar, 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude. 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 606 Redlight nel the Prince of the Road. 514 Broadway Billy’s Boodle. 5624 The Engineer Detective. 586 Broadway Billy’s ‘Difiikilty.” 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective, 557 Broadway Billy’s Peath Racket. 5671 Air-Line Luke the Young Engineer. 579 The Chimney Spy; or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party. 592 The Boy Pinkerton. 605 William 0’ Broadway; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning. 615 Fighting Marry the Chief of Chained Cyclone. 628 Broadway Billy’s Dead Act. 640 Barebsek Beth, the Centaur of the Circle, 647 Typewriter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgan, the *‘ Pizenest’’ Man of Ante Bar. 669 Broadway Billy Abroad. 675 Broadway Billy’s Best; or, Beating San Francisco's Finest. 687 Broadway Billy tn Clover. BY COL, A. F. HOLT. J 899 Black Buckskin: or, The Masked Men of Death Canyon. 419 Kenneth, the Knife-King. 485 Little Lightfoot, the Pilot of the Woods, 678 Ralph Renwood, the Lightning Express Detective. “BY FREDERICK DEWEY 818 Clmarron Jack, the King-Pin of Rifle-Shots. 478 Tangemund, the Desert Detective. 542 The Canyon Pards, BY ARTUR C. GRISSOM, 440 Little Foxfoot, the Gold Bowie Kid. 558 The Sure-Shot Parda, 621 Truthful James, the “ Pecooliar” Man. BY GEORGE C. JENKS. 485 Git Thar Owney the Unknown. 492 Git Thar Owney’« Pledge. 518 The Demon Doctor. 581 DPouble-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective. 59S Flute, the Singer Detective, 608 The Pitcher Detective’s Fotl; or, Dan’s Double Play, 616 The Occan Detectives or, The Last Cruise of the Black Bear, 681 The Pitcher Detective’s Toughest Tussel. BY MAJOR HENRY B. STODDARD, Ex-8cout. ‘806 Neck-Tie Ned; or, The Dug-Ont Pards. 846 Rapier Raphael; or, The Swordsmen of Zacatecas, 891 Kid-Glove Kit, the Dandy of the Rockies, 898 Kid-Glove Kit and Pard; or, The Gold King. 406 The Mad Man-Hunter;: or, The Golden Gulch Mystery. 5605 Powell’s Pard3; or, The One-Armed Giant. t BY ROGER STARBUCK. 25 The Boy Captinin; or, The Pirate’s Daughter. 114 The Black Schooner; or, Jib Junk. the Old Tar. 259 The Golden Harpoon; or, Lost Among the Floea. 848 Fire-Heels; or, Old Skinflint, the Death-Shadow. 854 Rig Horn Ike, the Hill Tramp; or, The Odd Pards, 861 The Phantom Light-house. 870 Breaker Ben, the Reef-Runner. BY WILLIAM R EYSTER, 190 Dandy Darke; or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 Faro Frank; or Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pards BY COLONEL DELLE SARA, 108 The Lion of the Sen} or, The Vailed Lady. 186 Cool Desmond; or, The Gambler’s Big Game. BY JAMES L. BOWEN 107 One-Eyed Sim; or, The Abandoned Forest Home. 110 The Black Steed of the Prairies, A Stery of Texas, © & BY C. DUNNING CLARKE. 185 in Panl; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains. 280 Pe ee Rajab; or, "The Fate of the Black Shereef, BY OAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR UO. 8. A. 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Buffalo Bill's Bet : ee The Gambler Guide, BY CHARLES E. LASALLE, t Bunker, the Trapper. ty The White Wuffulo. A Tale of the Northwest, BY JONN J. MARSHALL, Ben, A Story of a Young American. a The Outlaw Brothers or, The Captive of the Harpet, ' BY MAJOR LEWIS W. CARSON, era; or, The Mountein Menstete a3 Fe Keg ne aes White Spirit of the Hills. BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, 6 Kentuck; or, The Red Lasso, are Ilizeard Ben} or, The Riot at Keno Cam 256 Josh, the Boy Tenderfvot. BY BRACEBRIDGE NEMYNG,. 9 Taland Jim: or, The Pet of the Family. ot The Captain of the Club; or. The Rival Athletes, 101 Jack Harkaway in New York. A New Issue Every Tuesday. 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—— BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novela, 1 Deadwoed Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Deadwood Dick’s Defiance; or, Double Daggers. ac pend wand ee: 7 wnine: or, Buffalo Ben ead woot ek in s Castle. 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; o:, The Phantom Miner. 49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; or, Omaha Ol. 67 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards ot Flood Bar, 73 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane, the Heroine, sob | op hale ees hae ace or, Corduroy Cuurlie. 4 ead wove ckin Leadville, 52 os wood toa eee ice; or, The Double Cross Sign. a endwood Dick as Detective. 4129 Deadwood Dick’« 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 Rivals of the Road, 201 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel ore eneeees phe ho leery 3 or, ey June’s Adventure. 7 Deadwoa ck’s Dead Deal. 221 Deadwood Dick’s Death-Piant. 282 Goid-Dust Dick. A Romance of Rough: and Toughs, bo 14 ea bale ox ee roy oo? day Spirit of Swamp Lake. eadw oor ¢k’s Death Trail. 809 Deadwood Dick’s Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. 847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Days in the Diggings. 851 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or, lhe Terrible Vendetta, 862 Deadwood Dick’s Claim. Dick in Dead City. Dick’s Diamonds, Dick In New York; or, A “Cute Case.” ok —_— or, The Chained Hand. ck, Jr. Dick, Jr.’s, Defiance. Dick, Jr.’s, Full Hand. *s, Big Round-Up. Racket at Claim 10, Corral; or, Bozeman Bill. Dog Detective. . dJr., in Deadwood. Dick, Jr.’«, Compact. Dick, Jr.’s, Inheritance. Dick, Jr.’s, Diggings. Dick, Jr.’s, Deliverance, Dick, Protegee. Diek, Three. Dick, ‘ss Danger Ducka, Dick, Jr.’s, Death Hunt, Dick, Jr., in Texas. Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidoeg. Dick, Jr., on His Mettle. Dick, Jr., in Gotham, Dick, Jr., In Boston, Dick, Jr., in Philadeiphia, Dick, Jr., in Chicago, Dick, Jr., Afloat. Dick, Jr., in Denver. Bick, Jr.’s, Decree. Dick, Jr., in Beelzebub’s Basin, Dick, Jr., at Coney Island, Dick, Jr.’s, Leadville Lay. Dick, Jr., in Detroit. Dick, Jr., in Cincinnati. Dick, Jr., in Nevada, Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land. Dick, Jr., After the Queer. Dick, Jr., In_ Buffalo. Dick, Jr.’s, Chase Across the Continent Dick, Jr., Among the Smugglers, Dick, 5 lg Mek car ges Cane, Diek, Jr., Back in the Mines, H Dick, Jr., tn Durango; or, “ Gathered In.” peaguece preke = ag pet ery; or, Found a Fertune. cad o ck, 7a. Dazzle. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Dollara, 5 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Danger Divide. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 26 Cleven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woolf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York, 45 Oid Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigana. 58 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team. 69 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter; or, The Koy Detective, 80 Rosebud Itob 3 or, Nugget Ned, the Knight, 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Pheto rape Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance. 92 Canada Chet; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 96 Watch-Eye; or, Arabs nud Angels of a Great City, 118 Jack Hoyle the Young Speculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Benanza Bill, Miner. 188 Boss Bob the King of Bootblacks 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective. 161 New York Nell. the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scamps. 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Brayo. 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter. 226 Snoozer, thg Buy Sharp; or, The Arab Detective. 286 Apollo BAll, the Trail Tornado. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator. 244 Sierra Sam, tho Frontier Ferret. 248 Sierra Sam’. Seeret; or, The Bleody Footprints, 258 Sterra Saw’s Pard; or, The Angel ot Big Vista, 258 Sierra Sam’s Sevens; or, The Stolen Bride. * 278 Jumbo Joe, the Koy Patrol: or. The Rival Heirs, 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. Se Sere sett eer: envyer Doll’« Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonan 291 Turk the Boy Ferret. oe 296 Denver Doll’ Drift; or. The Road Queen. ace 4 alge f the pagere: Toll-Taker, Liza Jane, the Girl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerv-18 4 825 Kelley, Hickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia, 886 Little Qu!:k-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville, B84 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner, 889 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood. sae sve Craw Ata = oe from Gopher. reka Jim. the Gold-Guatherer: o 872 Yreka Jim's Prize. eibente ro: + i beg are or, The Secret of Slab City, oo the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengean 885 Yreka Jim’s Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nose. He 889 Ricyele Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 Wigh Wat Warry, the Base Ball Detective, 426 Sam Slabaidea, the Beggar-Boy Detectivo, 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives, 458 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. 486 Seulskin Sam, the Sparkler. 5 Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwoed Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadweod } Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Dendwooa Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Dead wooa Deadwoed Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Dead wood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Dead wood Deadwood Deadwood Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers, * BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 7 The Fly ing Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast. 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccancer; or. The Fugitive Yacht, 24 Diamond Dirk; or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone, 62 The Shadow 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 Sen-Devils or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. 116 The Hussar Captain ; or, The Hermit ot Hell Gate, 197 Little Grit; or, Bessie; the Stock-Tender’s Daughter, 204 Gold Plume; or, The Kid-Glove Sport. 216 Bison BIULL, the Prince of the Reins. 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer. 229 Crimson Kate; or, The Cowboy's Triumph. 287 Lo 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, Merie Ménte’s Treasure, 26% The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s Crulse; or,“ The Gold Ship” Chase, 280 Merle Monte’s Fate ; or, Pear), 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 Shot Dandy ; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler. 808 Keno Kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. 814 The Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Trail. | 877 Bonodel, the Buy Kovery; or, The Flagless Schooner. 888 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island. 887 Warpath WILL, the Boy Phantom. 8398 Seawalf, the Boy Lieut ite 402 Iaodor, the Young Consplirator; or, The Fatal League, : 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. 412 The Wild Yachtamany; or, The War-Cloua’s Cruise. 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 4838 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, Tie Corsair. 487 The Seca Ralder. 441 The Oceun Firefly; or, A Middy’s Vengeance. 446 Haphazard partes or, The Scapegrace of the Sea. 450 Wizard WII: or, The Boy Ferret of New York. 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouta. 462 The Born Guide; or, The Sailor Boy Wanderer. 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster. : 474 Flora; or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard. Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Wi)!’s Last Case. Nevada Ned, the Revoiver Ranger. Arizona Joe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack. Buck Taylors King ot the Cowboys. The Royal Middy; or, The Shark and the Sea Cat, The Hunted Midshipman. The Outlawed Middy 520 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. 525 Brothers in Buck 580 skin, The Buckskin Bowers, skin Rovers, Ku-Klux, the Marauder of the Rie nant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Lafitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Son. 555 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee BUI, the Prairie Shadower. 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. 570 Camille, the Card Queen. 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. 580 The Outcast Cadet; or, The False Detective. The Buckskin Avenger. Delmonte, the Young Sea Rover. The Young Texan Detective. The Vagabond ofthe Mines. The Rover _ Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions. Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scout; or, The Kio Raiders, The Hercules Highwayman. 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Kider Detective; or Buffalo Bill’s Boy Para. Butterfly Béilly’s Man Hunt. Butterfly Billy’s Bonanza. The Buccaneer Midshipman. The Wizard Sailor; or, Red Ralph, the Rover. The Sea Shadower} or, The Freedooter’s Legacy. Orlando, the Ocean Free Flay; or, Tue Tarnished Name, BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm. F. Cody). 8 Kansas King; or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie. 55 Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout. 68 Border Robin Hood ; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Faney Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’s Trust. BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective. 122 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Pete; or, Nicodemns, the Dog Detective, 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags, 142 Handsome Harry, the Boothlack Detective, 147 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 152 Black Beas, Will Wildfire’s Racer 157 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. 162 Will Wildfire in the Woods. 165 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy. 170 A Trump Card; or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses. 174 Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. 179 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 188 The Hidden Hand tog Will Wildfire’s Revenge, 187 Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smuggters, 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 Detective. 220 Tom Tanner; or, The Black Sheep of the Flock, 25 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. 252 Dick Dashaway : or, A Dakots Boy in Chicago, 262 The Young Sharps: or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jinvs Job; or, The Young Detective, 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thorougnored. 805 Dashaway, of Daketa; or, A Western Lad in Quaker City. 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detective; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard, 867 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times, B79 Larry, the Leveler; or. The Bloods of the Boulevard. 408 Firefly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. $ The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier. 428 Fred Fiver. the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Bill Brick, the Jolly Vagaoond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. 479 Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Roots, the Boy Fireman: or, Too Sharp for the Sharper. 666 The Secret Service Boy Detective. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves, 627 Tom Bruce of Arkansas: »r. The Wo)fin the Fold. 655 Plucky Paul, the Boy Speculator, 667 Bob and Sum, the Daisy Detectives. BY OLL COOMES, 5& Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. T A 18 The Dumb Spy. 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 81 Keen-Kunife, the Princé of the Prairies, 41 Lasso Jacks the Young Mustanger. 58 The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Renger Spy. 74 HMawk-eye Earry the Young Trapper Ranger, 88 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. 148 Scar-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 Prospect Pete 3 or, The Young Outlaw Huntem, 208 The Boy Hercules: or, The Prairie Trampa, 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror, 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, The Diaguised Guide ; or, Wild Raven, the Raogey, Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. Minksakin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 800 The Sky Demon ; or, Ruinbolt, the Ranger. 884 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero, 409 Hercules; or, Dick, the Boy Ranger, 417 Webfoot Moxe, the Tramp Detective, 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, 444 Little Buckakin, tne Young Prairie Centaur, Wingedfoot Fred; or, Old Polar Saul, 468 Tamarac Tom, the Big 7 fe ou Boy. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic, 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. 562 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. 652 Don Barr, the Plains Freelance. 661 Old Kit Bandy’s Deliverance. 670 Norway Nels, the Big Boy Mountaineer 680 Dauntless Dan, the Freelance, or, Old Kit Bandy i, Arcadia, RY T. C. HARBAUGH, 28 Nick oe’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of 76, 87 The Hidden Ledge; or The Littl: Hunter, 47 Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Captains, 64 Dandy Jack; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trad, 82 Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack 3 or, The Bey Trapper. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch, Jr.: or, The Boy Vigilante. 155 Gold Tr gger, the raham. i 698 Old Crazy, the Man Withessy 978 or, Lightheart Luke’s Clean Sweep. oseph E. ger, JT. 699 Biaple Skee. the Doone Buster; or, Playing the Fool for Big Stakes. Bv Lieut. A. K. Sims. Ready December 16. 4 709 Deadwood Dict. Jr.’# Drops or, The Sojourn s& Satan's Spring. By Edward L. Wheeler, Ready December 23, A New Issue Every Tuesday. in for aate by all newsdealers, five PR Bs » ime ant yf receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMBS, Publishers, 98 William Street New York.