Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 723) (1891 06 02)
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XY NY ; : MA “YW << ~~ jh! RT | tit | Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post Office. Copyright 1591, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, No 793 $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS. Price, F . a Year. No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. - SS S = =| = = OR The Border Beagle's Secret Mission A Romance of the Great Craze, BY JOS. E, BADGER, JR., AUTHOR OF ‘‘CHINCAPIN DAN,” ‘‘ DAINTY LANCE,” ‘‘ MUSTANG SAM.” ‘‘ HURRICANE BILL,” ETC,, ETC., ETC, CHAPTER I. THE INDIAN MESSIAH’S MOUTHPIECE. THuMP! Thump! Thomp! As that dull, yet penetrating sound came float- ing to their ears, both horsemen drew rein, and their eyes met; one pair full of silent inquiry, the other half-stern, half-mocking. ‘* What is it, Big Horn?”
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2 Silverblade, the Shoshone. ** Something more than a cock-pheasant on a mossy log, if you'll take my word for it, Max. "Light and tie, pardner!” and Buck Horton swung biimself lightly out of the saddle, leading his horse under a pendent bough, to which he fastened the animal, ‘Use the scary-time-loop, Max,” he added, as he glanced toward his hesitating companion. ** When we come back, it may be in too big a hurry to bother with knots.” ‘* Then you reckon on trouble?” ‘“You said you wanted to find Silverblade, didn’t you?” ‘*T want Dave Woodbridge, yes.” ‘It’s Silverblade now, and will be until this dance craze dies out. Well, the young fellow is oe yonder, where that war-drum sounded, and— ‘* Not war-drum, surely Horton?” ‘Too nearly that for a man of my size to see any fun in it,” was the grim response, ‘‘ There’s blood on the moon, I tell you, man! And if we | don’t see it here on earth before the snow flies, then we’re mighty sight luckier than I can be- lieve, just now!” ‘““You mean that the Sioux may break out? That’s too unlikely, I’m sure.” ‘‘ When a prairie fire starts, with the wind blowing a gale, can you expect the flames to skip all weeds and brush, simply because it start- | ed in plain grass? You'd call any man a fool for trying to reason that way, but, how much better are you doing now? Thefire has already started, and if it isn’t smothered before it gets sun, which, fortunately for them, was partially — dimmed by the baze of Indian Summer. i Here and there wére other Indians, from -ne full-blood who had never yet discarded blanket , or buffalo-robe for the garmeuts of civilization, | through all the quarterings do vu to those who | -had to call up tradition to prove thei right to participate, so slightly was their white blocd | tinged with red. i Some stood alone, gravely or doubtfully watching the sluggish dancers, as yet proof | against contagion, Others, in little knots, seem- | ed eagerly discussing some point, and more than | one hand was flourishing bate waxed warm: not against. their mates, but in menace for the as yet invisitle enemy of their race. “You see him, then?” whispered Horton, as the cowboy gave a start. ‘‘ Not so mighty much like David Woodbridge, is he? Diaw't I— For your life, man!” His last whisper came in a fierce hiss, and bis | ared steel as the de- d the fire of their race threugh living so far f ward the eternal snows of the north, He sti hopes that their ears may be opened and the -y s unsealed to the glorious truth. That th may come to pass, he has chosen a mouthpie( through which his life-giving message #4 reach his chosen children of the mother Sanake ‘*That means the Shoshones or Snakes, as the used to be called,” explained Horton. ‘Tf there is a Messiab, and he is all-powerfu all-knowing, as you say, father,” suddenly spol up @ tall, slender, finely-featured youth, wl had stood apart in gloomy silence during tl 2g, blade?” ‘*If there be @ Messiah, and he is all ‘a you dare doubt bis existence, Silve| claim for bim,” calmly persisted the young ma ‘*why does he not speak direct to us, since w | are his beloved children?” “Surely you heard his voice, but just nov hands gripped Max Donaldson with paralyzing | force, as the cowboy seemed on the point of breaking cover, Forcing him back and down, Big Horn Buck | muttered: ‘* Are you crazy? Show up, now, and your hide would be a skimmer before you could call | out three words!” ** But, Mrs, Woodbridge wants her boy, and I | must!” “She'll never see her boy again—as a boy! He’s put on manhood with his paint and feath- | fairly under headway, ’twill sweep everything | ers, and—” hefore it, unfil—” | * Until what, pardner?” ‘Until Uncle Sam turns bis to do their duty! But I’m not preaching a ser- mon, Max,” laughing lightly. ‘I simply wish to prepare you for a great change in Dave Woodbridge.” **T can’t think he’d man, even bis father— ‘*T$ as white as you or I, Max, but his mother is a full-blood Shoshone, and you’d ought to know what that means. Like father, like daughter, like mother like son, it ougbt to read; and when the Indian wife of Luke Woodbridge gets wind of what is going on in this section, my good horse against yours that she calls her son Sil- verblade, not David.” Max made no reply, but followed his compan- ion from the spot where their horses were now hitched, breasting a steep incline, picking their way rapidly through trees and bushes, ieee rocks too large to be passed over, making their way toward the crest, from whence they could obtain a glimpse of the Indian camp. The two had met by accident, and being on friendly terms, nothing was more natural than that the cowboy, Max Donaldson, should make known bis mission: to recall a wayward son to the sick-bed of his mother, Forsome time past, Max had heard rumors of Sioux emissaries in that region, preaching the wild doctrine of the Indian Messiah, and striv- ing to work up a war fever among the then friendly Grosventres, Crees, Bannocks and Shoshones; but, until now, he had refused to be- lieve there was aught serious in the matter. Possibly the handsome young cowboy might have been less skeptical had‘ bis heart, felt less tender toward the Indian race, as typified in one precious unit: Enola Woodbridge, only daugh- ter of bis employer, Luke Woodbridge, and his Shoshone wife. “Long range, or short, pardner?” muttered Buck, } using as they — their first glimpse of the Indian camp in the valley. ‘“* Rars as well as eyes,” responded Donaldson. ** Lead on.” Horton changed their course, keeping well un- der cover, and in a few minutes paused on the brink of a slope so steep as to be little less than a precipice cn asmall scale. And there, parting ascreen of scrubby pines, the two looked upon astrangely interesting spectacle. The camp had been pitched near a small creek, where the ground was level and comparatively free from bushes or trees, though a little clump of the taller growth sheltered and partially screened arude wickiup of skins and blankets, In front of this tent, and several rods away, a peeled pole had been planted in the ground. On its smooth trunk were emblems rudely daubed in paint, From its apex hung some- thing like a dirty sbirt of calico, its free end faintly fluttering in the light breeze. Around this pole, hand joined to hand, nearly ascore almost naked figures were slowly cir- ling, keeping time by oping their feet, their heads thrown back until their eyes stared to- ward the zevith, seemingly fascinated by the join the hostiles. Why, Thump! thump! thump! Once again that dull, bollow, yet reverberat- boys in blue free ing sound broke forth, and as its echoes died | away, a long-drawn, peculiarly intoned cry fol- | lowed, and Buck Horton hastily added: ‘¢ The devil’s imp is on deck, and if you want | to see how far your David is the old David, just | say you'll becontent with watching the little cir- | cus for five minutes!” ‘““ What is it? [ll wait—only I’ve got to see the boy!” ‘Seeing ’s all right, but if you show up too soon, I’m betting long odds you'll feel him!” grimly assured the elder man, relaxing his grip. In front of the wickiup now stood a being of medium size, bis,head thrown back, his eyes fix- ed upon the sun, toward which his arms were extended, bis fingers fluttering swiftly for the | moment, while that strange cry was repeated; acry without words, yet which had the power of exacting submission, if not of inspiring awe. “Look at ’em!” muttered Horton, as the dancers paused, to bend their heads in company with all others gathered \there. ‘‘ What can’t bold trickery do? And Silverblade among the rest!” ‘Tis the voice of the mighty Messiah, my ebildren!” cried the fantastically painted being in front of the lodge. ‘He calls, but only the ears of the true believers can ently interpret his words, He calls unto you all, and, that you may take warning in good time, he makes me his mouthpiece!” ‘“What is he saying?” wh Donaldson, ‘*Shoshone dialect. Listen! DllLinterpret the main points,” hurriedly answered Horton, never once taking bis gaze from that figure, the face of which he was scanning with an interest, tbat caused his eyes to glitter as though backed by living fire. A loving mother could bardly have recog- nized her son under that fantastic mask of paint, part of the striking regalia designed by the mighty medicine-chiet of the Sioux, Sitting Bull himself, The ground color was black, with an indigo tinge. On chin and forehead showed a crescent drawn in light blue, while each cheek bore @ cross of brightest vermilion. His hair, black as midnight, fell in elf-locks over his shoulders, the scalp-lock, neatly braided and intertwined with scarlet ribbons, dividing so as to let an end pass each ear, then hang over his) breast. A tiara of eagle-feathers rested on his head, and bright disks hung in chains over the front of his fantastically Saag ie shirt, Each one of those emblems had its own meaning, but only the fully initiated could ever receive the mes- sage they bore, and these er Shoshones were only at the threshold of the great mystery. “The Messiah has spoken aloud, but bis words have fallen on dulled ears,” resumed. the medi- cive-man, after a brief pause, his glittering eyes passing slowly from face to face as the others stood with bowed heads and hands crossed over their breasts, ‘‘ He issad, but not despondent, He still hopes that his children have not lost all a Silverblade?” ‘“We heard @ voice, yes, If that voice bé longed to the Messiah, and we are his chose children, as you say, why does he speak to us jj an unknown tongue? If be knows all, he mu know we are Shoshones. Why does be not tal to us as a Shoshone, that we may learn hi wishes at first hand?” ‘* You are the son of a pure-blood Shoshoné Silverblade; why, then, do you speak with thi tongue of the hated pale-faces?” CHAPTER II. SILVERBLADE, THE SHOSHONE. THE medicine-man put that question witl almost vicious sharpness, bis thin lips curlin back and exposing bis teeth, bis head and ere eraning forward, his arms drawn back witl tightly-clinched hands. But then, before an answer could be given, hi flung his hands forward, straightening bis form flashing a glance upward toward the red sun breaking into a chant, the words of which wert unintelligible to both white men and red-skin | but which none of those present offered té break in upon. Silverblade fell beck a few paces, the formei look of gloomy doubt returning to his face, hii eyes downcast like one in deep thought. “Through my lips the Messiah speaks to hil chosen children!” the medicine-man cried, onet more in the Shoshone dialect, once more wit! littering eyes striving to read €ach face arount im. ‘ Will they open their ears to the truth or must I answer the Messiah that all are dea¢ to hope, to teaching, to revelation? Must I say that under all the red skins I see before me flows only muddy white water?” “ ak! we are eager to hear the truth!” ** No! ’tis pure red blood! All red bleod!” ‘We are white no longer!” cried one of the gathering, the cur) in his brown “4 betraying his mixed race, ‘‘See! I let fall on the eartt my last drop of muddy water!” He drew a keen knife across his arm, sending a shower of blood flying as be shook the mem: ber viciously. - , That fanatical action found nearly a dozer imitators, but Silverblade never unfolded his arms, though his grave eyes followed each fanatic as bright steel flashed and red blood flowed. ‘* And you, my son?” asked the medicine-man, advancing until his hand could drop on a shoul: der. ‘“ Must we call you David Woodbridge, instead of Silverblade, the Shoshone?” ** What would you have me do, father? ‘* Prove that you, too, are a true sen of the Messiah |” “Like. these?” flinging out a hand, a faint smile that was almost contemptuous as he indi’ cated those balf-crazed fanatics, * Are you afraid of shedding blood ?” **Let time answer you, father,” with a celd bow, as he drew back from that touch, ‘‘ When Silverblade bleeds, ’twill be the hand ef an enemy that breaks the skin, not his own.” ** And that enemy will be—red or white?” ‘**] am Silverblade, son of Weenamoo,” ** And Weenamoo was daughter to He-That- oe one Will his grandson hang back, when the Messiah calls aloud?” ** When he hears that call, so as to fully un- derstand its meaning, Silverblade will give his answer,” The medicine-man turned abruptly away, but nothing in his face betrayed whether he ra satisfied with ‘that decision, or too angry waste further time on a stubborn subject, He lifted his arms, uttering a cry that drew the attention of all toward bim; then, withou further preliminary he began: ““Through his chosen mouthpiece, the India Messiah now speaks to you, children of the Grea’ 5S .) w tl ~ 38 et eA do Phe @ OS am pat ow ~*~ oe Be
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Silverblade, the Shoshone. 3 Snake! But before my poor ie shapes bis \ Oudrous message, he bids me te his children ken ever meets the eyes of the Snake Children depend on their faith. If they believe, they sball what mine eyes have seen, my ears drank in at | see,” the one pure and holy source. ‘““— was sleeping, and while asleep, a spirit bade me rise up and follow. Through moun- tains, over plains, across rivers, for sun after sun, I followed this spirit guide, and in the end he ga me to where arose aloft a mighty pil- lar of fire, And as I shielded my aching eyes from this too bright glow, I heard me a grave and earnest voice speaking words of glorious portent! ‘*Only those who have been elected by the Messiah may know what those words are, but I can tell you what they ended with: In the pil- lar of fire dying away, in the face cf the moun- tain splitting apart and rolling back on each side as one parts the door to one’s tepee with a hand. Then the Indian Messiah s revealed before mine eyes!” ““Tell us of the Indian Messiah! Let his chosen children behold their Spirit Father, if only through your eyes!” ‘*Not now, but when you are worthy,” said the medicine-man, his tones growing softer and more kindly, a smile causing that grim mask of dried paint to wrinkle and crack for the mo- ment. “‘ Enough that I bring to you the message the Indian Messiah gave his slave: enough that I tell you how, in the days to come, you may all stand face to face with that all-glorious pres- ence, even as I stood beneath his shining eyes! “The Messiah told me, and bads me make it isnown to all in whose veins flowed the blood of the red-man, that his mission was to restore the whole earth to the Indian and the buffalo. He told me that the entire earth should once more ! be peopled by vast tribes of red-men, and that ali the dead warriors and chiefs and squaws and pappooses shouid be restored to life, with each one a thousand fat buffalo for their own, ‘* The Messiah bade me tell his true children that they should evermore live in ce and plenty, without labor save of the hunt, without sickness, pain or starvation to steal through their tepees. ‘‘The Messiah bade me tell his children that when all bad come to know him, to acknowledge bis power, and yield unto him their hearts, their perfect trust, he would make them proof against the bullets and knives of the pale-faces, and give them power to free the entire earth from those asby-skinned curses!” p to this point the Indians had stood as though bound by a spell, breathless with inter- est, their eyes glovving as though on fire, only their nervously-working fingers betraying how intense was their fever. But now their passions broke bonds, and in the wild chorus of yells and cheers the medicine- man felt his voice drowned, and he stood in grim silence, watcbing the effect of his cunning- ly chosen words, And a smile curled bis thin lips as he saw even Silverblade losing his stoical calm, though he did not actually join in that mad dance, In whispers, Big Horn Buck interpreted the main points of this impetuous speech to his com- panion, who was but imperfectly acquainted with the Shoshone dialect, ‘Do you still wonder that the lad is carried away by the fever, pardner?” the elder man asked, studyinging the hard-set face of his com- panion, ‘Think of what an Indian heaven thisearth would be if all this might come to pass! Just think of it! And the only imp down yonder who doesn’t religiously believe every word of that rot is the medicine-man himself!” ** Twould be a religious act to send a bullet through his evil brain, this minute!” and Don- aldson nervously fingered his revolver as he pressed a little forward, “ Dons be a fool, man!’*frowned Horton, ripping an arm and bolding bis companion ack, ‘*? Twould be a heap sight'surer death for both of us! And the first to strike would be Silverblade!” P “*T don’t—I can’t think that of him—vyet /” ‘You will, before— Hist!” That break was caused by a move on the part of David Woodbridge, who step toward the medicine-man, one band extended as though to lend force to his words! “Tf the Indian Messiah spoke these words to you, father, he surely told you more? He told you when this glorious day is to dawn? ee he some token by which his children might iow a true p was openkine unto them, and not a mere dreamer of idle dreams?” “‘ The Indian Messiah did say more, did speak still plainer,” was the er “ He did give his messenger a token. But, whether that to- ‘*How can they believe without first seeing, father?” ** As other red-men have believed; through rfect faith!” was the stern retort, his clinched nds uplifting, bis eyes flashing fire. ‘* Why are the mighty Sioux buying up all the rifles and cartridges they can find? by are they stowing away meat in the lava beds? Why are they sending runners to every point of the earth to spread the glad tidings given them by their Messiah? Because they have faith, even though their own eyes have not seen! Because they believe their medicine-chiefs who have seen and heard and felt! **Why have the Sioux, the Cheyennes, the Arapahoes, all clasped hands in brotherhood? Because they have faith! ‘““ Why have the Utes, the Piutes, the Nez Perces, the Navajoes, all sworn to come from the west and the southwest at the first war-cry? Because they, too, have faith in the Messiah! ‘* Why have I come so far toward the land of the Great Queen to bear these wondrous tidings unto the Shoshones, the Crees, the Bannocks? Be- cause 1 have faith! Because [ want all my red brethren to be in arms and ready for the day- dawn! Because the Indian Messiah is only hold- ing back his hand until the most remote of his children are duly warned, that they may seek the high lands in time to escape being swept away by the mighty wave of melted earth and rocks which is to bury from sight forever each and every white man!” Once more the fired passions of the Shoshones broke forth, and the medicine-man was forced to cease speaking. Silverblade fell back, answered, yet not en- tirely convinced. His troubled countenance told as mucb, and had not his eyes been down- cast Wt that moment, he might have had his sus- picions streugthened by the venomous look which those greenish-gray eyes cast upon him, The two white men bad listened to this inter- change of words with intense interest. Even Horton looked upon Silverblade with more favor than at first, for he could see how strong was the struggle going on between red blood and white training. ‘* He’s not all spoiled, pardner, I don’t reckon, If a body could only get him off by himself, for a good, solid, white man’s talk, maybe he could be saved, even yet!” “ He shall be, or P'i—” Max Donaldson, possibly because he recalled the last words whispered by Enola, David's sis- ter, was terribly in earnest just then, So much so, in fact, that in changing his position, he did so without due caution and regard for the na- ture of their footing. A bit of the frost-eaten rock crumbled under his shifting weight, and, making a vain clutch at a scrub pine to save himself, the cowboy went plunging down the steep bank, keeping his feet as by a miracle, until he struck the level ground, less than a dozen rods from the medicine- man and bis excited following! It all happened so swiftly that Big Horn Buck was unable to save his companion, and with the swift mind-working of one who has often seen his life hang on the turning of a card, he leaped palsy down the slope, at the same time shouting aloud: . * We're friends! Don't shoot !” Sure-focted as a panther, Horton kept from falling, checking bimself just as he reached the spot where Max Donaldson had fallen at full length. And, standing in front of the Juckless cowboy, he held up bis empty hands, palms to- home the astonished company, again crying aloud: “We're friends to all here! See! our hands speak peace, not war!” The medicine-man had stood like one petrified staring at those shapes, but, as the little cloud o dust floated away and jeft clear that erect figure, a cry broke from his lips: ‘“‘ The Border Beagle !” Swift as thought one hand flashed beneath that painted shirt, to bring forth a revolver, its hammer lifting as it swung to a level, its silver bead covering that broad bosom, and— “Hold!” cried Silverblade, leaping forward and knocking that sinewy arm upward just as the weapon exploded, ‘He isa friend! Harm him not!” “He is a spy!” shouted the medicine-man, frying to wrest his arm free from that grip. ni him, or he wil] ruin us all!” = you must kill me a ey be young man, wresting away the pistol, a springing in front of the white men, “T an- | swer for them both! Their skins are white, but their hearts are red! J answer for them—I, Silverblade, the Shoshone!” CHAPTER III. TWO WAYS OF LOOKING AT IT. ALTHOUGH not seriously injured by bis fall, Max Donaldson was sorely shaken up, and hard- ly realized what be was doing when hescrambled to his feet, hands mechanically fumbling at the weapons in his belt. ‘Don’t ye do it!” hurriedly warned Horton, one hand flying back to grip an arm in restraint. ** Shoot, and we die right here!” The cowboy cleared bis eyes with a dash of bis free hand, giving a cry as he recognized that tall, lithe shape just coming to a pause be- fore them. **Silverblade—David—your mother wants— ” ‘*Be still!” came in stern warning, his face still toward the medicine-man and the Indians, his hand raised in token of peace, even while its mate gripped that captured revolver, ‘* Peace, my brothers! Are enemies so scarce that we must murder our friends?” A brief silence that might end in death, or re- sult in life prolonged, just as that paint-masked nari Ba of the Indian Messiah saw fit to de- cide. Back of him the Indians gripped their wea- ons, crouching for the triple death which bis ips might pronounce, If that word was given, what would be the end? Once tasting human blood, who could place bound or limit on their inherited lusts? ‘“*T ask for peace, but if it must be war, let the lips that give the signal guard themselves!” boldly cried Silverblade, his eyes watching the painted face of the medicine-man as the latter slowly recoiled. ‘*These men are friends and brothers, and they shall suffer no harm while Silverblade lives!’ ‘* A straight tongue, my brothers!” chimed in Horton, in the same dialect, ‘‘ We came here by accident, and have neither seen nor heard aught to make our brothers feel angry toward us. We, too, ask for peace, Wiy wil) you make us fight for it?” The medicine-man suddenly flung up his arms, uttering a few cries, ratner than words, in a strained, unnatural voice, then staggered away toward the wickiup while saying: ‘Wait, my children! Give time for the Mes- siah to place the right words in his mouthpiece! Wait, until I come forth!” ** Thank you, Silverblade,” and Horton touch- ed the young man with an elbow as the trio fol- lowed the medicine-man with their eyes until he vanished within the tepee. ‘If itcomes to a fight, you jump out of line and give us room to spread ourselves. Better two than three!” With a quick change of position Silverblade placed bis own body between Horton and the tent, at the same ‘time slowly moving away in company of the two men. ¥ if see it, lad)” averred the Border Beagle, with the dimmest of smiles flitting across Sig face as he caught sight of a muzzle—pistol or ay just peeping throughan open joint in those skins. If Silverblade heard, be gave no sign, He was facing the Indians, some of whom were scowling blackly, others sree fingering their weapons while waiting for the promised message from the Messiah, : His eyes flashed as a number of the younger members drew together as though to hem them in, and once more his empty hand rese in warn- ing. "wy block the trail, brothers? Have you no ears? Did you not hear Silverblade give bond for these, his brothers?” ‘*Silverblade was a Shoshone. Tis a white boy speaking in bis name, just now!” ‘They are all white! Did you not hear what the Indian Messiah promised? When the great wave comes, where will the white dogs bet ** Too dead for howling, but I'll pray for their heads to lie near enough the surface’ for my fingers to grip their scalps!” laughed one of the party: he whose curling brown locks proclaimed almost all-white blood, Thump! Thump! Thump! The hollow notes of | the {odie drum came from the closed wickiup, and all eyes were drawn in that direction. * Ready for a break, rdner!” muttered Horton, to the cowboy. “If that devil comes out to set the dogs on, shoot and jump! We're gone ’coons if we can’t make our horses first!” Even Silverblade seemed to hold his breath during those few moments, but, as the skin flap hung undisturbed, and he could no longer
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‘ii fil sleoed Tone 4 Silverblade, the Shoshone. detect that menacing muzzle at the slit, he silently pushed his friends forward, clearing the little circle before the Shoshone seemed to note his purpose. ‘‘Our father says it is peace, brothers,” the oung man declared in calm tones, though real- y far from feeling assured he was rightly in- terpreting those hollow, notes. ‘As for these, my friends, they.will seal their lips, They will forget all their eyes and ears may have told them this day.” , A few more strides would carry them to cover which, if not bullet-proof, would give them a fair chance to fight for life should the worst come; but neither of the trio quickened their pace in the least, though Silverblado still kept his body asa shield to that of the man whose unexpected coming had so greatly startled the medicine-man. The Indians made no attempt to follow or check them. They stood irresolute, waiting for the words of their father. But the wickiup did not open, and the mouthpiece of the Messiah remained silent. Once under cover, the three men quickened their pace, climbing tbe range and putting the crest between themselves and the Indian camp before pausing for speech, Then— ‘*The way is open for my brothers,” said Silverblade, with a grave bow, never more the Indian than now. ‘‘ They heard the pledge Silver- blade gave for them, and he does not need ask them to make it good.” “Your mother wants you, David,” hurriedly informed DonaJdson, grasping a hand and press- ing it warmly. ‘*] have no mother,” was the grave interposi- tion. ‘I have only a Messiab.” ‘* Your mother is sick, I tell you, boy! Enola urged me to find you and say come home! Your mother called to you nearly all last night, in ae delirium, and now—you’ll come home Davie, lad? His tones grew softer as he noted the quick spasm which flitted across that handsome face; but, Silverblade drew back, slowly shaking his head as be said: “I have no home, no mother, no kindred now, I have nothing, I can do nothing until the com- ing of the Messiab !” ‘ Yet you claimed us as brothers, back yonder, David,” urged Big Horn Buck, ‘* Because I would not see your blood shed— just yet,” came,the almost cold response, “Tf the promiséd Messiah really comes, you would be willing to see even that, then?” ‘*You are white—all white. If the Messiah comes, he will bring the curse against all of your race. Then 1 could see even you two die, with dry eyes, with a song of triumph, on my a 7 “You must come home, David!” again in- sisted the cowboy, impatiently. ‘‘ Your mother is sick, and calls for her sop. And Enola— can’t you begin! to see what I have known from the very first, Dave Woodbridge? Don’t’ you that the devil’s imp has crept into your home? Can’t you guess why John Godfrey is staying there? Comehome and drive him sah if you love your sister!” ** Enola basa father: speak tohim. Ibave no ears for such matters now,” spoke the fanatical young man, drawing back. ‘I am waiting for the coming of the Messiab.” ' “And you really belief¥e he will come. in material shape, Silverblade?’} asked Horton, curiously watching the other, **He has promised. He willcome. And why not?” with sudden fire in eyes and iu voice, “Is there not good cause for his coming? Have not his red children borne the heavy burden long enough? Are they forever to remain slaves, worse than dogs, under the heel of the cursed white man?” “ Your father is white, isn’t he, Silverblade?” **T have no father, save the Messiah.” “Then, Luke Woodbridge is white, isn’t he?” persisted Horton. “* Ho is white, yes.” “Tf all white people are to perish at the com- ing of the Messiah, Luke Woodbridge is one oi | - the doomed?” “*He is one of the doomed,” “Yet you say your one t hope lies in; he coming of the Indian Messiah! C «d ou see your father doomed to perish, wit’ , swung 4 neatly coiled lariat, while the bearskia pouches back of the saddle bulged out as though well supplied with necessaries for one who was often. called upon to the night without other roof than the vault of heaven to cover him over. Max Donaldson was hardly less agreeable for the eye to rest upon, and to some he might bave presented an even pleasanter pictctre. He was younger, just entering his twenty-fifth year. e was handsomer, if regularity of feature alone be taken into consideration. He looked far more amiable, too, just then: his smooth skin, hardly bronzed by the sun, bis neatly trimmed mustaches and goatee, his big blue eyes, his long hair, slightly curling at the ends and yellow as corn silk, It was the face of a cowboy dandy, and his garb was in keeping, though still bearing traces of his awkward tumble down that rocky sieep into the Shoshone camp. Yet those who knew bim vest, said that when the right time should come around, never a man wore beard who could or would fight more desperately than this same cowboy dandy. The sun was nearly eetbing when Horton broke the silence which had reigned so long, by ing: ma What was that frey, to Silverblade, you. sald sbout Jobn God- } oO 4 Cr
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_ “That he ought to be at home, if only to kick ' out a dirty snake that has no right among de- _ cent people!” came the angry response, ‘* What’s the matter with your own foot com- ing into play?” ‘You dodn’t know—” hesitated Donaldson, a flush creeping into his almost girlish face, ‘© 11] be wiser when you make open confession, pardner. Or, shall I give a guess? Grim old Luke frowns where he ought by good rights to smile. Hit or miss, pardner?” * You might have made a wilder shot, that’s afat! Dm not ashamed to own up, Horton; I’m dead gone on David’s sister!” ‘“ And David knew what he was doing when he said there were those at home whe could guard all beneath its roof. And—your paw, pardner!” leaning acrcss in the sadale to clasp the wiiling band—‘‘if I bad time for such sweet follies, ’'d be strongly tempted to envey you your success, but—” ‘* Tf it only was success!” ‘Tt will be, never fear, old fellow! Ima bit of a prophet my own self, and I say it; you stick to your knitting, and let old Luke’s frowns turn . to smiles, for they’ll be there when the preacher is called in to do the tying. For, of course, Little Sure Shot is all right? That bright flush answered where lips declined, Max Donaldson had naught to fear on that score, or bis brightened face told lies, ** And this John Godfrey; what is he?” ** A snake in the grass, or [ never saw one!” ‘“With an eye on the dainty morsel set apart for his better, eh? Do you know, pardner, I feel just in the mood for prophesying a little bit more on my own hook; and here goes: “John Godfrey will not trouble you much longer. He will take his departure from your modern Eden, Very likely he'll try to kick, but I’m no true prophet if kicking will hinder his going.” ; ‘““You know him? You’re after him, then?” ong asked Donaldson, ‘I know a fellow who has taken to calling himself John Godfrey, just as I know another whom [ came mighty nigh calling Zeno Godfrey, back at the Shoshone camp,” ** You surely can’t mean—” ‘*Then what’s the use in wasting breath talk- abont it?’ was the blunt interruption, as be quickened his pace, riding along at a more rapid rate, as though preferring silence to further speech. By this time the sun had sunk out of sight, and the twilight was deepening, but Horton still led the way with the readiness of one perfectly familiar with his surroundings, and not another word nag between the couple until, half an hour later, the Border Beagle abruptly drew rein. ** What is it, Horton?” asked Max, in a guard- ed whisper. “A fire of some sort, Over yonder, A tree or bush hides it, just now, but—it means some- thing, sure, these days!” “It’s hardly another ghost dance, or there’d be howling to kill!” * It may be even worse than that. Back out, softly. ell ‘light and tie, then decide on our | next step.” _ They halted near a couple of small trees, _ partly surrounded by bushes, and after listening for a minute or so, without hearing aught to strengthen their suspicions, they dismounted, hitching their horses after the ‘“ scary-time fasbion,” by looping tbe reins over a slender branch above their heads,, where a single jerk would set all free incase haste was called for. / “ What do you reckon it amounts to, Hor- ton?” asked Donaldson in a whisper. “That’s what I want to find out. It may “amount to nothing worth wasting time over, but—_ I say, pardner?” ‘6S Welk tive) “You asked about how I connected your snake with my false prophet, a bit ago, Now, Tl tell you this mueb: I belleye they are father and soa, and that they have a gang of only less |. evil imps skulkivg somewhere in this neighbor- hoor ” | ‘“* You surely can’t mean it, man!” “All right, if you think so, Now—cork in! | We'll see what this bit of fire stands for, at all vents,” orton moved ahead, Donaldson was forced to maintain silence for the present, He could bh ay believe his own ears, and yet— , With a master of woodcraft, such as Big Horn Buck proved himself, and a follower who was no mean tracker himself, it was not a dif- ficult matter for them to reach a point from whence a fair view of the fire was won; but that seemed to be their only reward. Silverblade the Shoshone, ** Deserted, for ducats!” softly whispered the cowboy. “Don’t take too much for granted, boy,” in the same guarded tones, “Steady now, and we'll take a cruise around the edges before de- ciding.” Not a sound betrayed their progress, though they made a complete circuit of the deserted camp, keeping keen watch away from as well as toward the center, But, when their first stop- ping place was gained without discovering aught, even the Border Beagle seemed satisfied that further caution was a waste of precious time. ** The nest is warm enough, but the birds have flown,” he said, rising erect and stepping to- ward the fire, now burning low. ‘‘ Let’s see if red hawks built it, or if they were merely buz- zards!” ‘* Shall I make a flare to see by?” “No need, pardner,” as he picked up an empty pint flask, ‘* Whisky iscommon enough to both red and white, but never a red-skin would fling away a glass bottlesimply because it wasempty. Come, back to our nags, pardner! If I think it worth while, I can find this place to-morrow,” Together they left the deserte? camp, return- ing to where they bad hitched their horses, But before they could touch rein or saddle, the bushes vomited forth a number of dark shapes, and both men went down, almost side by side. CHAPTER V. LITTLE SURE-SHOT. e THE shaggy little cur seemed trying to shake every joint of its body asunder as it paused, di- vided between the delicious scent just ahead, and the knowledge of what was expected by that which was just behind him, Staring at bim from yonder lew patch of brush were several black points, bright and seemingly as insensible as so many beads of jet; but never a dog of purest pedigree could better tell than this dingy brown mongrel what won- derful springs of life and force lay waiting be- low those unwinking eyes. They were so near! The cover was so thick and tangled! Surely he might—as once before since bis careful training began—by one head- long leap, lock his watering jaws about a mottled throat, ani—” ‘Steady, Finder!” If ever a dog invited strabismus, Finder did, then and there. He tried bis level best to keep ones eye on those motionless beads, while twist- ing the other around for a glance at the fair aker whose voice just then came floating to- ward him through the forest, His shaggy body shook as with an eternalearthquake. His froth- fringed lips stretched and contracted by turns, with a barely audille explosion, not unlike the rising bubbles on a kettle of boiling mush. But that mad temptation bad vanished; though so long ago, he could still feel the stripes which bad caused his poor ribs to smart because of that breach of discipline. ‘* Good dog!” added that pleasant voice, as its owner came near the spot where the mongrel was holding his gamestationary. ‘‘ Now, Finder! Put ’em up, lad!” , What. a transformation! That bundle of brown hair seemed to explode, and take on the shape of at least a dozen dogs, all of them shoot- ing into that tangle of dead yet leafy boughs, every paw in the swarm trying to pin fast such of those chuckling fowls as might escape those clashing jaws! And even a full dozen of throats could bardly have sent forth such a marvelous combination of howls, yelps, barks and other contt for which cold type possesses no equiva- ent With a whir and a clashing of strung wings, the covey of full-grown but still young grouse broke cover, leaving behind them an eddy of dry leaves and broken twigs as a vail to hide for an instant poor Finder’s chagrin at the result; a result to which no amount of experience could reconcile him, A wild flurry for a single breath, then the grouse settled upon the limbs of the nearest tree, standing stiffly erect, those bead-like eyes once more looking for and seeing naught but that an- imated package of shaggy hair, out of which came such strange sounds. F “Talk to them, Finder, good doggie!” once more came that voice, and as its owner stepped into sight, tbe mongrel rallied from his bitter disappointment and lesped about under the tree where the grouse had sought refuge, yelping and barking fit to split his red throat. If they had suddenly become petrified, the birds could not have stood with less motion, néver once noticing that trim, graceful figure as it moved leisurely to one side, marking each ‘frown bird of the covey and its relative position. Then, pausing where an opening among the leafy background caused one head and neck to stand out like a silhouette against the blue sky, the little rifle came up until the ivory bead tippin the foresight showed white against the head o the bird. A sharp yet slight report, a whir of feathers and beating wings as the grouse came through the lower branches, a howl of fierce delight from Finder, a rapid click-clack as the check- ered slide worked, throwing out the empty shell and placing a fresh cartridge in the chamber, And even before the bird fairly struck ground, those bright blue eyes were glancing through the open disk of the Lyman sight at another grouse. Only pausing to shift position in order to take the lower birds, Finder’s owner made shot after shot, each report causing a fluttering fall, though never a bird could have felt a pang of pain, so surely was each bullet sent home, so completely was each brain shattered by those little pellets of lead, And yet this merciless marksman was a marks- woman! A rarely attractive picture she formed, too, in her half-Indian garb, and nothing conld be — better calculated to display the fine conto 0 > her figure than this use of the light Colt’s ré mind and body. She was barely up to the average height of her sex, but her proportions were so perfect that no one ever gave a thought to that; she was neither tall nor short; she was ‘‘ just right!” Her complexion was dusky, but no more so than is often found among those of purel Caucasian breed. Her eyes and hair were blac as midnight, but both were soft and lustrous, Indian-like only in color, “Take breath, Finder,” she exclaimed, after her sixth shot, letting the slender barrel sink in- to the hollow of her leftarm, ‘ Enopgh is good as a feast, and we have thatalready.” Smothering a yelp by burying his hot muzzle in tbe warm feathers under the wings of the bird nearest him, lifting and bearing it to the feet of his mistress, Finder ete : Enola flung up a hand, with a laughing shout, but the remainder of the covey never stirred still under the curious ai gg bas ended so many of their race. en, with a light laugh, tho maiden once more raised her little rifle, taking a quick aim and firing; not ata bird, but at the rough-barked Jimb which curved up- ward before the mother-grouse, \ The bark flew off in a tiny shower, smartly sprinkling the old ‘‘ pheasant.” The bullet, de- flected by the wood, shot off at a tangent, sctearing shrilly. And this combination broke the ‘* «Heck! Heck! Heck!” chuckled the fright- ened old hen, darting awfy with a whiz and a whir, followed by her skurrying brood in hot- test haste. ““Yap! Yap! Yap!” broke forth the shaggy mongrel, dashing away. ‘*Steady, Finder!” chimed bis mistress, mis- taking bis meaning: but only long enough to ut-~ ter that sharp chiding. Get out, yor cur!” rung forth an angry voice, followed by a scattering of dry leaves as the dog avoided a threatening foot, its bark changing toa yelp, but still angry, still defiant and full of hate. Enola Woodbridge shrunk away, and even turning as though to e ro a disagreeable en- , counter by actual flight; but before she could act on that impulse, a broad-shouldered shape came swiftly through the fringe of bushes, and a far less harsh voice cried out: “Then you're not in trouble, Miss Enola? I felt sure it was your rifle 1 heard, and you shot so fast that I feared you needed help.” “Thanks, Mr. Godfrey, but I am quite able to take care of myself,” colaly bowed the mai- den, turning toward ler game with, barely a single glance into that swarthy face. oY oF course you can, unless— Let me do that, Miss Enola!” springing forward and picking up a brace of the grouse, giving a short exclama- tion, , surprised approval as be held them u tor \, where the bullet bad taken cffvct, ‘CAT int, Head! The Indians did well in dubbing you te Sure Shot, Enola!” : “ Wy sbould I spoil sve meat, Mr, Godfrey, when— Quiet, Finder “Why should yon keep such a surly cur?” — Godfrey, flashing a vicious glance at the dog, who was plainly longing to flesh his white teeth. peater. ae Enola Woodbridge was just entering her eigh-— teenth year, but she was already a woman in wn
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, ia eo ae Silverblade, the Shoshone, ‘He is friendly enough with me—and my friends, sir.” ‘*Then you don’t number me among the lat- ter, Enola?” “You are a stranger, sir, and—please give me my birds, Mother will be wanting me, and 1 must go.” “You don’t reckon me among your true friends, Enola?’ persisted Godfrey, ignoring her request. “You ar. my father’s guest, Don’t force me to say unpleasant words, Mr, Godfrey.” daaee man broke into a laugh, harsh and eyen itter, ‘Tike dog, like mistress! You could hardly say less agreeable words than those, Enola, though you spoke for an bour! Then--why do you hate we so intensely, little woman?” “T do not hate you, sir,” slowly but bravely meeting those glittering orbs, “As yet, you have given me no r occasion for hating ou. me Call it dislike, then. I’d sooner it was downright hate, though! Hatred may be changed to liking, or even to love, but—” **T wish to go home, sir, and you are detain- ing me. By what right?” ‘Well, if it comes to right, Enola, what’s the matter with the right any honest man has to tell his love to—” “Stop!” her little hand flying up as its owner shrunk back, flushing redly, then paling again before those glittering eyes. ‘*1 will not listen to such words from oe lips, sir!” “* Enola—dear gir! !” “« Never dear to you, Mr, Godfrey!” “How can you help yourself? How can you hinder me from loving you, when I have al- ready fallen victim to your charms, little lady?” laughed the man, dropping the grouse and ai- vancing as she retreated. “T can refuse to listen to your words, at least, Mr. Godfrey?” “ Enola? “ Why will you force me to speak still plainer? Must I say that I actually detest you, sir?” “Don’t go quite that far, Enola,” his voice suddenly losing its touch of mockery, his face growing graver, almost gentle for the moment. As a man, I have the right to tell my love. As a woman, you must hear me out,” “T have already listened too long, sir. I do not care for you, nor do I wish your—your regard. Surely this is piain enough answer?” ‘It might be for some men, but not for me, Enola, I love you as no other man loved before! ‘I swear that you shall learn to Jove me, just as passionately. I swear to never give over until ou are mine—until the holy father has added Dis blessing to the knot nature tied at your birth!” “That blessing will never be given, sir!” ** Then—J can do without it, if you prefer it 80,” laughed the knave, his black eyes glowing redly, bis hands going out as though to close / upon her, a h i ] y Enola struck them down with a little gasp of anger, springing back and swinging the muzzle _of her rifle between them. b] me hae slayer? ity! But—” “Stop!” her voice low but stern, her eyes ablaze. ‘“ You have said too much already, Mr. Godfrey. And now—take a final warning: Go ‘your way, and delay not. Leave this neighbor- ood, if you care for yourself, For, I swear to _ tell all you have dared say and do this day, to _ those who will know how to punish a villain “ cording to bis deserts!” i Task F iy - “5 vet Mg | to whom you will assign this office, dear girl?” purred Godfrey, his voice never sweeter than then. ‘ To Silverblade, the Sho- shove brave? To the brother, who bas for- gotten his home gods to follow the false Mes- I bid you, John Godfrey!” ; * Let me a, t “Or will the mighty avenger be your father? Old, bowed with cares and weight of winters? _ Already in his second-childhood, and this hour that bis chosen friend is winning % eee ths po U4, bis one ewe-lamb?” _ “ Will you give way, si | * Yes—this way!” at the same time leaping forward and knocking the rifle from her hands, | Tear, sip on ee sean Feat ed soe boos With a wild ye er leaped at the villain’s vk his teeth deep into the flesh. God- frey uttered a curse as be lashed out witb his free foot. And then a loud yoice came from a little distance. **Epvola! Little Sure Shot! Which way, my dainty?” CHAPTER VI. MISPLACED MERCY. ‘* PaTHER—help!” gasped Enola, at sound of that cheery call; but her voice was smothered by the strong hand that slipped over her red ips. With a vicious kick John Godfrey sent Finder whirling over and over through the air, to strike the ground in a tangled snarl, out of which quickly evolved a howling dog, skurry- ing away in the direction of that clear, manly voice. ‘““Tt’s your father!” hissed Godfrey, bis face so close that his evil breath seemed to scorch her cheeks, ‘Swear to keep silent! Swear never to even hint at what’s past, or—J’Ul kill him like a dog!” Enola could not speak, but she nodded, as though to give the oath demanded, and God- frey, already hearing those rapidly approach- ing steps, relaxed his fierce grip, muttering again: ‘One word of this, and it’s his sure death! Remember!” * Enola! Little Sure Shot!” “Here, friend Woodbridge!” answered back Godfrey, turning in that direction, hoping to detain the stockman long enough for the maiden to calm herself, at least sufficiently to avert too close questioning. ‘“*What’s the matter with— It’s you, then, pardner?” broke off the father, as he caught a glimpse of the other, ‘‘ Where’s my little girl?” “ Here, father,” answered Enola, as she quick- ly caught up her rifle from where it bad fallen when those evil bands grasped its owner. ‘Safe aad sound, if not quite as sweet-tem- pered as ever,” laughed Godfrey, still further to cover his tracks. ‘‘ We’ve had a bit of a row over that cur—bless bim crossways!” ‘‘ Hinder? What's he been guiity of?” “Oh, just sampling my calf, bad luck to his teeth!” with a wry grimace, as he bent over for one hand to touch the injured member. ‘If I have gold enough, Woodbridge, I mean to buy that whelp of you, and that before this sun goes down!” * He’s not mine tosell, and Enola— Take care, girl!” breaking Off with a cry of wondering alarm at the sudden action of his daughter. Startled, John Godfrey turned swiftly, to look squarely into the narrow muzzle of the Colt’s re- peater! “Up with your hands, John Godfrey!” cried Enola, in clear, stern tones, ‘‘ Up with them, I say!’ “You forget what I—” “T never forget!” came the swift inte oe “*Stop! dare to touch a weapon, and I'll re! “What the devil—what’s this all mean, child?” spluttered the thoroughly amazed stockman. “Wait, father. Wéill you hold up, John God- frey, or must I shoot?” ** You'll sup sorrow for this, girl!” snarled the villain, his swarthy face turning as pale as na- ture would admit, but slowly elevating his empty hands, “TI told you—” “Far too much to go scot-free! Father, dis- arm this knave. From behind, please! He's sworn to murder you if I dared tell you of his vile insults, so—” “TInsults? You? of—” , Choked by his hot rage, Luke Woodbridge gripped John Godfrey by the shoulders, whirl- ing him clear of the ground, then flinging him to earth, fiat on his face, dropping with knees upon bis back, holding the kuave helpless despite his rage ave struggles. ‘What is it, girl?” growled Woodbridge, flashing a glance toward Enola. “Insults? If he bas dared—” ; ; ** Disarm him, father,” repeated the maiden, still standing with rifle against her shoulder. “ Draw his fangs, then we can talk,” “Let up, carse ye!” snarlingly gas the overthrown knave, keeping up bis vain strug- gles. ‘‘’T was naught but—the cur nipped me, and I kicked—let up, I say!” _“‘He lies, father,” more calmly ke the girl, ‘He did kick poor Finder, was because Finder fought to save bis mistress,” Whether it was the sound of his own name, or because he saw his ever-detested enemy was helpless to resent or punish, the brown dog crept forward and gave another vicious nip, springing Why, you dirty whelp eavy | ut that back with a howl of fierce delight as Godfrey gave another volley of execrations, “* Back, Finder!” sharply cried Enola, ‘‘ Throw them this way, father,” sbe added, as the gaunt settler stripped the rascal of his pistols and ugly- looking knife, ‘‘Search him carefully! He’s sears as a rattler in August! See that he eeps no hidden fangs, father!” *“You’ve got ’em all,” sulkily growled God- frey, ceasing his fruitless efforts now that he knew he was overmastered, ‘‘ Now—murder me! Why not, since all this comes of a kicked | mongrel?’ : ‘Not yet, father,” said Enola, as Woodbridge showed signs of rising from their enemy, ‘ Bind his arms behind his back, Here’s my belt; use it! Run no risks, I beg, father!” Woodbridge complied, much as_an awed scholar might obey a stern teacher. Puzzled by the swift charge and denial, he was hardly fit to act for himself, during those first few sec- onds. Buckling the belt tightly about both arms, above the elbows, he drew back, lifting Godfrey after, by a sicewy hand gripping his collar, “Now, then, both 0’ ye!” he frowned, step- ping back a pace after rs rd the bound man — around to face himself. ‘‘ What’sall this racket kicked up about, any way?” “J told you,” swiftly spoke up Godfrey, flash- ing a warn glance into Enola’s face, stilt clinging to his last frail hope. ‘Finder nipped me. I kicked him—had to doit!” with a wry grimace and forced laugh “Look at my trowsers! Weuld you have kicked, too? Made his teeth fairly meet, through the thick, ! ‘¢ Ts that the how of it, dainty?” asked Wood- bridge, glancing toward Enola, w20 now stood lightly leaning on the muzzle of her rifle, her red lips curling with a smile of scorn. , “Will Jobn Godfrey make oath to that effect?” she asked, slowly, **My bare word is worth more than the oath of some others I might name,” sulkily growled the villain, with a repetition of that glittering glance. ‘I have spoken the blunt truth; that is enough,” “Did Finder nip him, ’Nola?” ‘‘T believe he did, Daddy,” witb a low, amused. laugh as she glanced at the blood-stained trow- sers, ‘*And you got mad because he kicked the whelp? Was that just, little woman!” half-re- proachfully, **Tf you knew what he did first, father!” “What? Tell me all, Enola, and if he has dared lie to me, I’ll—” ““T have given you my word that I did noth- ing to deserve all this vile treatment,” coldly interjected Godfrey. “ [simply told your daugh- ter that I loved ber and asked her to be my wife, Is that a crime?” “There’s something more than this,” slowly uttered Wcodbridge, bis keen gray eyes roving from face to face, but lingering latest on that of his daughter. ‘* You make it clear child, What’s the worst?” j ipl Bud enough, as he showed in his stern face as Enola obeyed, though the maiden rather soft- ened instead of deepened the tints, warned by that dangerous glow kindling in the eyes of the stockman. Aud when she came to tkat final threat of murder as penalty of speech, bis stron teeth closed with a vicious chek hid ove han shot out to close with a deadly grip on thethroat _ t of the bound knave, , “Ye foul whelp!” he gratingly cried, as his free band flashed forth a knife. “Dil slit the lips and crop the tongue that dared abuse my daughter!” : But Enola, dropping her rifle, sprung for- ward and clasped his muscular wrist with her hands, bearing the armed hand down and back _ as she panted: ' ‘*No, no! not that, father! Don’t stain pose kind hands with such evil blood! Don’t kill—” ‘*Too late, my dainty!” even in his hot rage softening enough to use one of his quaint en- dearments. ‘* He’s too mighty mean to live!” “And too evil to die! No, you must not— shall not!” struggling as bis hand strove to shake off her grip. “ Father, for my sake!” > i ‘*But he abused you, honey!” | “And have I not had revenge? Have I not sbamed him? I, a weak girl, to hold him up and— Father, must I keep on begging?” Woodbridge thrust the half-suffocated villain from him, his knees, then still flatter along the leaf-carpet- edearth, « | se ds Go back home, my bana he ened tones, but with eyes flin steady gaze, ‘I'll re ' ving him but a glance as he sunk to = |i , in soft- ; ) ping rom that — Godfrey a bit of a lec- | th t ;
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' |Pm thinking: ' _|frey, back yonder. q Silverblade, the Shoshone. ture, and then let him go, Go home, honey. Mammy needs ye, I reckon.” A little hand went up to the heavily bearded chin pushing back the face above it until those deep sunken eyes were forced to squarely meet hers, or else let their lids close, ‘*Look in my eyes, Daddy,” Enola said, al- most in a whisper, giving one fleeting glance to- ward that cowering sbape lying on the dry leaves. then fixing all ber attention upon her rent. ‘‘ Now—you will let him go, unhurt, or eel “Why should I?’ muttered Woodbridge, knowing that she was reading the truth in bis eyes the while, ‘‘He’s gone too far: Shall 1 let him go, scot-free, only to crawl back and try to sting us once more?” “If he swears to go away and never return?” hesitated Enola, “You laughed at his making oath, a bit ago, dainty dot,” quickly said Woodbridgs catching at that slip. — ‘“* He may keep an oath if he knows it’s to save his life, And then, if he does attempt to break it, we'll be on our guard, Daddy. Don’t you aee the difference, dear?” ‘**Plainer than such a dirty whelp can see it, Go home to Mammy, dimpling, and a Daddy settle this score, won’t you, now ‘Seat you promise to spare his life, Daddy, not unless,” “Well, have your, way,” drawing a long breath, almost of regret, ‘I will spare his life, though he richly deserves hanging!’ “And—youll not hurt him—too much, Daddy?” still clinging to his arm, reluctant to take her departure. ‘‘ You’ll send him away, with a warning to never return?” / “Yes, yes! Now go home, and wait there until I come.” As he spoke, Woodbridge shook off her cling- ing hands, almost impatiently, moving a bit nearer John Godfrey as the man seemed about to ri y Til go, Daddy, but—what do you mean to do be him?” hesitated Enola, after picking up her 2. “Not killhim. That’s enough for one asking. Go home, I say, and don’t leave the house until you see me again!” When Luke Woodbridge assumed that cold, almost harsh manner, Enola knew that even she could move him no further, and she passed over to where her game was lying, picking up the birds and deftly fastening them to a stout thong, three at each end. With this balanced in one hand, bearing her riflo in the other, she moved away, casting an almost pitying glance +s aia the knave who had go rudely insulted er. “Be merciful. Duddy, for my sake!” she ven- yg to call out, just before passing out of ew, \ Enola hastened along until some little distance from that spot, her brain as busy as her heart ') was troubled, Despite her really striking beauty of face and figure, Enola plainly showed her Indian blood to the outward eye; but that was all she had in- berited from ber red-skin mother. In heart and belief, she was purely white, and while her tem- oe could flash up hot and fierce for the time ing, reaction quickly came, and she was even more ready to forgive, if she could not forget, She had been angry enough to kill John God- : ' But now—she paused, shiveringly, with a low moan of distress as she tried to imagine what manner of punishment Luke Woodbridge meant to inflict. And then— from that spot, came chillingly to her ears, the ree a ad yell of a buman being in ox- tremity! Pe: Bi tite Vil. CKWOODS LECTURE, WITH CUTS, _ Joan Goprrey had not been injured nearly as much as he tried to make out, although those fierce fingers had pretty effectually checked his breathing for nearly a minute, before Enola won his release. : Even while lying with but a shivering motion on the dry leaves, after falling, as Luke Wood- bridge cast him aside, he was listening and, a little later, watching. _ V _ Now that he had fairly felt the grip of the ; pene back woodsman, he knew how greatly he. underrated his powers. Even on equal foot- » he knew that he would find it no easy mat- to come off victor; but now— disarmed, bound, unable to resent even the sniffing insults of that four-footed mongrel ! if, hardly believe his own ears, as could _\they told him the girl he had so shamefully mk; a ' ae if i i Is insulted, was pleading for his hfe. Surely ‘twas nothing more than mockery? She, half red-skin|! it was this, half-belief, half-fear, that led him to change position slightly, even at the risk of bringing that gaunt demon once more upon bis back, And when his eyes were of avail, | and he saw that pale, pleading face, still he | doubted. | Not until Luke Woodbridge gave his word } to do no slaying, did the bound wretch be- / lieve. And then, deep down in what he called his heart, he fell to cursing Enola for not exact- | ing still more! He gathered his legs under bis body, then ceased, with a faint moan as of barely conscious agony, for he caught that watchful glance, and knew that Woodbridge, while seemingly en- tirely absorbed with Enola, was on the full alert. He mutely cursed the cunning old fellow for not losing himself wholly in that appeal. If he could only get a start! If he could—but his arms were bound behind him,and that demon was gaunt as a greyhound, built for racing! Not until Enola bad passed out of sight, did Luke Woodbridge move toward that cowering heap, but as he did so, John Godfrey rose toa sitting posture, hoarsely panting: **Don’t—haven’t you done enough, already?” *T haven’t even begun,” was the cold re- nse, ‘‘Gitup. Or, shall I lend a hand?” **You’ve handled me once too often, Luke Woodbridge. Keep off! Tl get up when— Hands off, curse ye!” Godfrey scrambled to his feet, and under coy- er of that movement he strained every muscle in hopes of breaking or slipping the bonds that brought his elbows together. In vain. Daintily embroidered though it was—truly a thing of beauty, after its half-savage fashion—the maid- en’s girdle was far too strong for that. He caught a glimpse of those sternly glowing eyes, and knew that but one hope remained for him. And with a vicious kick that was meant to cripple or cast down the stockman, he dashed away at top speed, lifting his voice in a shrill, piercing yell which Enola so wrongly interpreted, If his friends were only nigh enough to hear! Curse them! They should be, for did he not— A heavy body struck against his back. Two hands grip his neck, and he went down likea weak man beneath a hungry panther! “Say you will, eh?’ growled Luke Wood- bridge, rising again; lifting the bound man with him, then crowding bim up against the nearest tree-trunk. “Run off without paying your debts? Yelp again, and I'll slit your tongue to its roots!” Half stunned, wholly unnerved for the mo- ment, Godfrey leaned against the trunk, shiver- ing from crown to sole, the picture of abject ear, Luke Woodbridge steadied him in that posi- tion with a knee against his back, then used his hands to tear the fancifully-embroidered buck- skin hunting-shirt fromthe bound man’s back, ruthlessly using his keen-edged knife to avoid releasing his arms, ia _ With a slit and a slash, he converted the shirt into tgs strong enough to hold a horse if needed. Knotting these together, he lost little time in forming a rope long enough to doubly encircle tree-trunk and man, then drew the knots aafaly before stepping back. “Making believe won’t save you, John God- frey,” he said, after one keen look into that face, ‘Do your bracing up before I come, back, and you'll be all the better able to settle your score.” ‘““What—I’m choking!” gasped Godfrey. ‘Tf not, ’tisn’t through that lie being too small for any ordinary throat,” grimly laughed | the avenger, passing away, knife in hand. John Godfrey twisted bis face around to note his actions, and his face flushed purple, then faded to a sickly pallor as he read the terrible truth: terrible enough to even the lowest of knaves, but doubly so to one of his proud na- r *. ~ ” “*7)}] kill you if you dare—” ‘* Shut up, unless you’re hungry for a root to’ ‘chaw on!” barshly interposed the stockman, flashing a fiery glance over his shoulder, as bis keen blade cut through a pliant sprout. “Til do the talking, when the sign is ripe, Just now —grit your teeth and call up all your sand, You'll need it, sure!” He passed out of Godfrey’s limited range of vision, and the doomed wretch pressed his face savagely against the rough-barked tree, once pet premade Spe strength in a hopeless struggle ree himself, ; Luke Woodbridge was not long absent, He came back, with a couple of rods tucked under one arm, while he was trimmirg a third with his knife as he paused where Godfrey could watch his action. “‘Tt’s an ugly bit of work, take it all around, John Godfrey,” he said, his tones cold and hard. ‘*T never thought I'd bave to turn nigger-driver in my old age. And when I last saw you, you were the very last man I’d have picked out as the one to force such a nasty duty upon me.” “What ’re you going to do, Luke Wood- bridge?” hoarsely demanded the bound wretch, ‘* Read you a sober lecture, and then illustrate it with a few mighty lively cuts,” smiling briefly as their eyes met. **- You don’t dare strike me! [ll kil] you like a dog if you dare!” **T don’t doubt you'll try it on, but forewarn- ed is forearmed, and I’ll never again make the mistake I did when I bade you welcome to my house and board, John Godfrey. I took you for what you claimed: a man, nota devil! I gave you my band, and thought your grip was just as honest. I gave you of my best, poor though that might seem to one who was more at home in a big city than in the backwoods.” ‘* And now—I tell you, man, ’twas all because of that cur! ‘ ‘* And I’ve got that same cur before my eyes,” nodded Woodbridge, replacing the knife in its sheath and cutting the air with the last-trimmed rod, Godfrey shivered at that vicious whistle, the purple blood flashing darkly into his face. ‘*Don’t you do it! Don’t strike me with that, Isay! me with that, I say!” ‘* You heard me promise my little girl that I wouldn’t take your life,” coldly said the gaunt giant, testing the rod still further, “It was her heart that spoke, not her head. I ought to. have held firm: I meant to have killed you. I tried to send her away for that, but she could read my face too well, and she feared I was too old to meet a man in his prime, like you, knife to knife, or gun to gun,” ‘You didn’t—not a fair fight?” Woodbridge started, gazed half-wonderingly into the face of his prisoner for a few moments, then tossed back his iron-gray locks with a short, scornful laugh as he read tbe truth, ‘* You thought I meant to turn butcher?” “T know it!” “I’m glad you let it out, John Godfrey,” in- haling a long breath, his bronzed face actually brightening a ‘*T knew you richly deserved a licking, but [ almost hated to strike the first w. “Tl have faa life if you ever do strike it!” | ** Because I didn’t know but what there was just a stray spark of manhood in yoor make-up, e see,” quietly persisted the stockman, turning ack a sleeve and laying bare ridges of sinew | that explained in part his easy victory over that young and muscular knave. ‘I ought to have known better, too! Only a perfect cur could have played the part you have played. Only the lowest of the low could have insulted— Ready, you whelp?” | That thought seemed to abcd kg his forced coolness, and Luke Woodbridge brought the pliant rod swiftly down, to leave a rising wale | to mark its course, even through the woolen shirt which still covered those shoulders, Another shrill, fierce shriek burst from Godfrey’s lips as he shivered beneath that blow, but Woodenbridge merely laughed, and then — said: “That’s not from pain, but a signal to your pals, John Godfrey. Lonly hope they’re nies enough to hear, vy IT hope they'll come in answer to your call, for Pll serve ’em the same— or worse!” : Once more the rod whistled through the att curling half-way around the trunk of man an tree, but John Godfrey are no sound, save & barely audible growl. e spread his lips and closed bis teeth upon a bit of bark, crushing it to powder, tough though it was, Up to this moment Luke Woodbridge had held © his fierce passions marvelously well in check, bat now came a change, silent, but none the less ter- — rible. : Blow followed blow in swiftsuccession, laid on — with a power that rapidly used up the rods, one after another. He moved his sinewy arm with — the regolarity of a machine, and when the Jast rod split down to hie hand, that stout shirt was worn to tatters, and blood-spots began to mark its texture here and there. 4 be That first cry was the last, as well, Godfrey must have suffered intensely, but he provedinso far master of himself, | . va Yet the rough bark before his face was grows Kill me if you want, but—don’t strike Vines
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ue. 4 better, ing smooth, torn and ground to bits by his fierce teeth. And here, too, spots of blood—from his torn gums—marked each stage of that punish- ment, Luke Woodbridge cast aside the splintered stump of bis third rod, drawing a mighty breath, his face clearing like one who is breaking away from a nightmare sleep. ““Tt’s over--thank the Lord!” he cried, with involuntary fervor. ‘‘Over—and you’re not dead! Give thanks for that, John Godfrey, for never a man ever had narrower escape from death!” “Pil kill you for this!” hoarsely gasped the prisoner, then his head sunk heavily upon one shoulder, his muscles relaxing like one in a swoon. Woodbridge lifted his head with a hand under his chin, then dropped it again, laughing harsh ly, scornfully as he drew back. “Bah! why play ‘possum, John Godfrey? You've had your lecture, and though you can’t very well gaze upon the cuts I promised, I reckon you know they’re there, safe enough!” Striding over to where still Jay the weapons he had taken from his prisoner, Luke Woodbridge opened the revolvers, slipped the shells into his pocket, and hurled each cylinder far away into the woods. He still more completely disabled the pistols by striking them against a tree, bend- ing the frames beyond repair. He drove the knife-blade deep into a trun‘, snapping the steel short off. “Now, just one little warning to you, John Godfrey, if that’s your lawful name,” he said, coming back to his prisoner. ‘You've sinned, and I’ve put my brand upon yourback, Now— go! Go away from here, and if you love life, never come back! I'll tell my boys this, and if any of them, or if I, ever catch you on my place after this day, you'll die like a crazy wolf!” Drawing his own knife, Luke Woodbridge cut the bearskin bands that held Godfrey to the tree. As they parted, the wretch sunk ir a limp heap to the ground, like one past helping himself, but the stockman only laughed grimly, before say- ng: ** You know the law: you have until sunrise to-norrow, to save yourself.” CHAPTER VIIL. BIRDS OF A FEATHER, Wri an indifference which would have been brutal had he not felt perfectly sure John God- frey was “ playing ’possum,” Luke Woodbridge turned away, leaving the spot where a richly merited punishment had been meted out. The prostrate wretch never stirred, never moved muscle or lifted head until at least ten minutes had elapsed. Then, failing to hear sound of footfall or aught else to warn him that unfriendly eyes were awaiting his movements, Goilfrey lifted his bead to steal a savage look in the direction Luke Woodbridge bad taken. He could see nothing of the stockman, and after another brief spell of listening in vain, he sprung to his feet, uttering a hoarse, savage snarl as his clinched hands raised to— ‘**Come back to life, have you?” mocked the stockman, stepping into plain view from behind the broad bole of a tree. ‘‘I was beginning to wouder if twas worth while to save the wolves from poisoning themselves, by digging a grave to hide you from sight and scent!” It was too late to pretend weakness, and too soon t> give free vent to his vicious hatred, so John Godfrey, staggering like,a druoken man, turned bis back upon bis enemy, and left the scene of his punishment. With each step his brain cleared and bis limbs came more under his control, And before he had gone half a mile, he looked around, almost hoping that Luke Woodbridge was dogging his footsteps. \ ‘*Show your face, if you’re there, ye devil!” he snarled, looking more beast-like than human, just then. ‘‘Man to man, I’m your master, + crippled though I look! Show up, I say!” ut there came no answer, And then, as he realizai that he was not followed, John God- fvrey once more plunged on through the forest, _but now with a far clearer idea of where he was going, and what he had to do, Little by little bis hot rage cooled, and then he took thought of his own dilapidated condi- tion. He flinched a bit as he tried to cast a glance along his back, over one shoulder. The contortion caused the tattered shirt to rudely grate along those burning wales. The pain was exquisite, and he gave an ugly curse as he re- alized that 1¢ would be worse before it was * And, yorse yet!” he snarled, shivering with mad rage. ‘ l’ve got to let the boys know of it! Dliverplade,.the Shoshone, If I could only hide it from,them—Satan grill them alive! Why didn’t they come when—why weren’t they on deck when needed?” Unable to do aught to either mitigate his pains or improve bis appearance, John Godfrey once more pressed on through the woods, like a man who had some particular destination in view. And as he progressed, his brain was busy, preparing for the meetiag which, since they had failed to answer bis call from the other rendez- vous, he could confidently count upon taking place at no serious distance, either of time or of measure. When he paused again, it was at a point several miles away from the spot where he had en- countered Little Sure Shot, and a prompt ro- sponse came to his low, quavering whistle, closely followed by the words: ‘On hand, boss, like a run-around!” ‘* But too late for the fair, as usual!” harshly growled Godfrey, advancing to meet the rough- clad, rougher-looking fellows who stepped into full view, ‘‘ What devil’s luck kept you here, instead of being at the other nest?” ‘* You didn’t say which— Holy smoke!” break- ing off with a start of genuine surprise as he caught sight of those blood-spotted shoulders, ‘* Hed a rassle with a scratch-cat, boss?” ‘* Button up! And you, Dirty Dick, patch me up, if you know how!” ; He sunk to the ground, with a smothered curse of mingled pain and rage, resting his head on an unsteady hand as he bowed bis burning back to the eager hands of the squat, ill-favored knave who pressed forward. ‘*My ’intment, boss!” spluttered Dirty Dick, as his little pig-eyes took in the nature of the case. “Let me daub it over, an’ time it’s did, you wouldn’t know you hed ary sech a thing as a back fer to— Waal, that does git me, now!” Godfrey had unbuttoned his sbirt, and Dirty Dick had drawn it off over his bead, and that ejaculation was drawn forth by sight of that sadly marred back and broad shoulders, Brief time as it had lasted, that backwoods lecture had left an impression which months of wear would not entirely efface. “Tough, isn’t it?’ growled Godfrey, with a sickly smile showing his teetb, ‘* Do you wonder I felt hot under the collar when I gave the sig- nal of distress, and you never responded?” ‘« Bf we'd only ketched it, boss! But—” ** Act, not chatter, curse ye, Dirty Dick!” Not another word was spoken until the task was completed. And then, when bandages were eprint and his tattered shirt was once more ip place, John Godfre rose up, drawing a long breath of intense relief. **'You’re court physician and surgeon extra- ordinary from this moment, Dirty Dick!” he de- clared, with a short, hard laugh. ‘* Now—you want toknow what manner of scratch-cat gave me these love tokens?” “Not ef you’d ruther don’t, boss.” “Because you think “I’m ashamed of_ them?” laughing once more, ‘‘ Why should I, boys, when it took four stout rascals to put the stamp upon my back; and all four jumping me from cover, without notice?” “We know’d no one critter could ’a’ done it, boss, 0’ course,” the squat spokesman hastened to declare. ‘Nor one dozen, if ’'d been given a ghost of a show,” scowled John Godfrey, not above telling a lie to preserve his honor, so-called, ‘ But we'll keep moving, boys, for I don’t want to stiffen up too soon. And then, too, the plum is mighty nigh a for plucking, and we must all get together. I'll talk as we mog along.” | It is hardly necessary to follow his words, as they fell from his lips. They consisted mainly of lies, though with a spice of truth running tbrongh the story, And what that story was bas been shadowed forth by the sentences already placed before the reader, Enough that be set forth the case in as fevor- able a light to himself as an ingenious wit and glib tongue could draw the picture. He admit- ted that be had pressed his suit a bit too ardent- ly pon the coy half-blood, but declared that Luke Woodbridge, in company with three of bis cowboys, had jumped him from bebind, without warning. ‘*Now you know just how the case stands,” be added, coming to a balt, after a keen glance around by the waning light, as though to make sure of their present location, ‘I can’t very well go back to the ranch, yet it’ll never do to leave it without at least one pair of good eyes to take notes. Jack!” * Ready, boss!” ‘IT reckon you can turn the trick the neatest. Go over to the ranch, and keep your eyes peeled, Keep under cover, but don’t let any items slip — your eyes. And if Luke Woodbridge sbould pull out, afoot, see that you track him wherever he goes, t ‘* Bet I will, boss! But ef he takes a critter? “Tf he strikes out north, follow until you can givea fair guess how long a ride he means to tuke. If he strikes south, toward the Indian camp, follow his track until opposite the lower rendezvous, then burry to let us know. You bave it down?” “Straight as a string! Shell I pull-foot now?” “Then the trick hain’t to be turned jist yit?” ventured Dirty Dick, before Godfrey could speak, “Hardly this night. Yes, rack out, Jack. I'll give you a few dollars extra for this extra work, of course,” ‘Ef I git a honest grab at the old buck’s pile, I ain’t keepin’ count 0’ the extrys, boss,” chuck- led the withered rascal, as he turned and glided swiftly away into the deepening shadows, ‘“ Yd feel a heap sight happier to heart ef we was gwive ‘long! sighed Dirty Dick, watching that fading shape until it vanished, ‘* Why couldn’t we four turn the trick, boss?” ‘* Honor among—gentlemen, Richard,” laugh- ed Godfrey, once more moving onward, ‘ And then, too, it may call for just a bit tougher fighting than four stomachs can easily digest, Don’t forget I’m sbut out, now, and the latch- string pulled ’way in! Of Course I took thought of such a possibility, and I trust they’ll not dis- cover my bit of ‘work before the time is fully ripe for action. Still, it’s barely possible, you see, and we've got to take everythbiog into con- sideration.” i. ‘They cain’t be no mistake ’bout the ding- bats, I don’t reckon, boss? They'll be thar, safe *nough, won't they?’ ““Why not? They were there this noon, and Daddy Luke never dreams that 1’m a bit the wiser. Be sure he never opened his head to me about the yellow-boys, though he seemed dead stuck on—devil grill him by iaches!” with sav- age latred, as a burning twinge shot across his scarred shoulders. “Good Lawd; I’m so mighty hot fer a grab, that every breath I suck in seems a mile long! An’I bite ’em off turrible short, too, jest in bopes it’ll hurry time long quicker,” *‘ You’}l enjoy the feast all the more when the right time comes, then, Dick. But now—shut chop! You've a voice sweet as a hungry burro, lad, but I’ve got a mighty poor ear for music, just now!” Dirty Dick—who apparently did the talking for b6tb his mates as well as for bimself, la into silence for the time being. He had not known this cbief very long, but that space was sufficient to warn bim against flying flat in the face of orders, even though they might be given with a purr, instead of a snarl. In spite of bis keeping in active motion, God- frey found himself growing stiff from his flog- ging, and this fact by no means tended to sweeten bis temper. Only a man of unusually tough constitution could have borne up so long and so well, but he knew he was nearing the limit, and that he must bave both rest and quiet if he was,to remain fit for the perilous work bis evil brain bad so carefully planned. He was thankful that the end was now so near. A few more minutes would bring them to the rendezvous where the remainder of bis tough company were to be found. Once there, with bis burts newly dressed and more carefully Lsorigal ett anight’s rest would make another man of bim, } But be was not to reach that without further excitement, as it pro . He sent fcrth his low, quivering signal, paus- ing for a reply. None came at once, and he lifted hand to lips for a louder repetition, when Dirty Dick uttered a guarded hiss of warning. ‘‘ Critter crawlin’ over—” “It’s you, boss?’ came a low whisper floating throngh the gloom. ‘Yes, What's up?” yes “Two critters, tryin’ to spy out our camp, boss,” replied the shape, resolving into human form as it rapidly crept closer. ‘‘ Hitched tha’r critters jest over thar, then snaked off, Injun style, ‘* Where are the other boys?” a, “That’s our side o’ the joke, boss,” with a busky chuckle. ‘‘ Lucky we ketched the trom- ple o? buffs, an’ skun out o’ the light, to see who was which, an’ why so? Then—boys "bushed nigh the bosses, waitin’ to shoot when they come back,” hastily, as bis master made a gesture of impatience, . ndezvous
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VOLVIGUS (IS WiLUpisvuiles ** Why shoot? Who are the two men?” “Waal, Tom said one was a Max somebody, but—” “Good enough!” with fierce joy in bis low tones, moving forward. ‘If it’s Max Donald- son— ‘ That’s the name, boss, fer sure!” | the present, then tote ’em a bit nearer the camp, I’m pot just certain what we’ve got to do with ’em, first-off.” He lingered nigh enough to be sure his orders were comprehended, then passed over to where the camp-fire, the glow of which had so sadly | decoyed the two friends from the path of safety, “Show the way—on eggs, mind ye, all! | Quick! if a shot is fired without my aiming it, Tl eat raw meat for breakfast—sure!” They were quickly at the ambuscade where | three stout knaves were waiting for the two scouts to return for their borses, but they were none too soon, Hardly had John Godfrey passed word to burn no powder, but to leap upon and capture alive, than Big Horn Buck and Cowboy Max came back from their nearly fruitless quest. Then, without sound or warning, the trap was Sprung upon them. CHAPTER IX. A KNAVISH OUTFIT, WARNED by their chief in advance to make sure work, the rascals struck as they came, and the two unprepared scouts went down as much from those strokes as because of the living weigbt burled against them, There was no time for burning powder or fleshing steel. Stroag arms locked about them, while other hands sought for and found their throats, checking outcry and lessening resist- ance at one and the same time, Still, it was no meek submission those am- bushed knaves received. If they won, they had to fight hard for the victory. Though they were three to one, with all the advantage ofa complete surprise in their favor, the result was not certain until, after several minutes of fierce Suspense on the outside, John Godfrey forgot his stiffening hurts and took a band in, himself, ‘“‘ End it—but alive!” was his repeated cry, Perhaps if this idea had been less steadily kept fresh in the hot brains of those panting, wrestling, struggling fellows, the outcome might have shown a more lurid tinge, for the two men fought desperately, ful] of silent grit as bulldogs, , neither asking nor giving mercy, If they had won free enough to draw and use their weapons—but they did not, and so the inevitable came to pass. _ “Gi? me room!” gasped Dirty Dick, stagger- ing dizzily on bis recovered footing. ‘I bain't hed—a full drink o’\—wind fer ’n’our!” His mates were slower, or more cautious, The two men lay there, bound hand and foot, igo to either fight or flee bad they been still fresh and unwinded, but doubly impotent after that stubborn battle against odds, And yet their captors seemed afraid to draw back, lest the conquered turn the tables upon them, Even John Godfrey tested the thoroughness of that binding before be made sure his savage hopes had not failed him. But when he saw that his knaves had done their work most thor- oughly, and that the two men were helpless, he slouched his hat over his face to shield it from the glow of the match his fingers struck, then passed the little flame before the face of each one of his captives, The reddening end dropped from his fingers and he started back with a strange combination of sounds: too much for a smothered shout of joy, too gleeful fora curse of rage, A sound that joined both, with still other emotions: an evil medley that caused him to break into a wild dance of triumph as soon as he drew clear of his gang. “* What’s bit ye, boss?” ventured Dirty Dick, holding himself ready to offer aid, or to dodge a blow, as the outcome rendered advisable. “ That’s all right,” growled Godfrey, return- a himself with almost ludicrous celerity. ‘*Maybe I’m dancing because I feel ha ! ; ppy maybe l’m howling mad because we’ve wasted so much time and good wind raking in what isn’t worth the trouble!” ‘* Then they bain’t—” “ Button!” with still anotber abrupt change, bis tones growing harsh as they were subdued. ‘First thing, muffle their eyes, Don’t let ’em bave even a glimpse of a mug amongst ye all! Don’t talk over a whis in their range, and even then alter your voices as much as pos- sible. Understand?” ‘“We hear what ye say, boss, but ef we know what ye mean, I’m durned ef I do!” spluttered Dirty Dick, dubiously. “Do what I say, and let sense drill a way through your thick skull when it can,” gruffly added the chief, moving nearer the two horses _ Which still remained tethered, too well trained to break away, though that fierce struggle had en place so near them, ‘' Blind ’em both for —————————————— ee ee ee eee ee was still showing its ruddy bed of coals, Godfrey cast a few dry sticks upon the fire, watching until they broke into a blaze, then moving back vntil he sunk down upon a spot to his liking, smothering a groan and curse of pain as that action sent a wave of torture across his bruised shoulders. “*Tf you only knew how the score is mounting up against you, Luke Woodbridge! When 1 come to wipe it out—may you live until the last figure is balanced!” By tbe growing light John Godfrey could distinguish his men as they lugged the bound forms of their prisoners nearer, and his lips were oc the point of parting with a warning sound, when both men were dumped at the base of trees close together, just beyond fair range of the camp-fire, _ ‘* How’s yen’ fer posish, boss!” asked Dirty Dick, bustling forward, a wave of his dingy paw pointing bis meaning. ‘Ef it’s too nigh, or uot fur ’nough off, why—jest ‘say so’ cures the job!” ‘Neither of ’em can see what goes on over here?” ‘** Never a wink, boss!” **All right. I’m not so sure it matters, after all, but business is business, and we're its prophets,” ** An’ them profits is dead sure, boss? Don’t reckon thar’s ary danger o’ them dingbats borry- in’ wings fer to skip afore we kin nail’em? Don’t reckon—” ‘Tt don’t need reckoning to tell me I’m hungry as a starved wolf, Dick,” bluntly interjected his master, ‘‘ Rustle up some grub, can’t you? never could chin on an empty stomach, and mine—well, your skull is the only thing in nature I can compare it to!” Dirty Dick skuffled off with a grin and a chuckle, asin duty bound, Like king, like cour- tiers. And, after his own fashion, John Godfrey was a king to that knavish outfit. A couple of guards were sent out to give warning in case other outsiders should chance that way, though such a bappeniy seemed highly improbable. Still, what bad happened once, might very well happen again, and the stakes they were playing for seemed high enough to warrant a little extra trouble on their rt. Provisions were produced from some quarter, Half-dried meat was soon toasting over the coals, and a blackened pot was soon emitting the grateful scent of strong coffee, While others were providing for the inner man, John Godfrey had Dirty Dick looking after his hurts, renewing the soothing applica- tion of ointment, the manufacture ef which was a carefully guarded secret, though the squat ruffian sung its manifold virtues in and out of season, It really possessed some merit, since Godfrey already felt better than he had dared hope for, And with more conveniences at hand, Dirty Dick finished his task in a more workmanlike manner, grinning with brutish delight when his master warmly thanked him, **Not me, boss, but the ’intment! Ef a par- fect thing kin be said to have a fault—jest one fault, ye mind! Ef sech a thing could be, the blamé 0’ my ’intment is thatit cures its cures up too pesky quick!” ‘* How so, Dirty?” ‘“Waal, fore a critter hes time to ’preciate what it’s doin’, it’s done a’ready! An’ so—waal, when they’re cured up so mighty quick, I’ve knowed dum’ fools come to think they never wasn’t nothin’ the matter ‘ith ’em, fu’st-off, “Well, I'll promise not to sin after that fash- ion, Dirty,” laughed Godfrey, seeming in partic- larly good humor despite his bruised shoulders, ‘*Grub’s ready, I reckon? If not, we'll call it so, and make a beginning, anyway!” or some little time all speech was suspend- ed, though jaws were wagging briskly. All were hungry, and none averse to showing as much. : The flogging he had received, did not lessen Godfrey’s appetite, and the frequent glances hé cast toward their two prisoners, seemed to sharpen his teeth sti]] further. _ Having eaten heartily, he produced ard load- eda pipe, Dirty Dick bringing him a glowing brand from the fire with which to light the tobacco, Then, reading in faces what tongues hardly dared ask, Godfrey broached the subject which was uppermost in every mind there, un- less it might be his own. “Business dispatched, you want a dose of pleasure, eh?” he said, his dark eyes passing swiftly from face to face. “ All right; no time like the present, and as the plum is ripe enough for picking, (ll paint it in its true colors asa preliminary feast for your eyes, ‘** You all know, more ‘or Jess well, the Wood- bridge ranch and its people. You know, too, from my telling, that Woodbridge has just filled an army coniract, or, rather, bas recently drawn bis pay for supplies furnished from his stock-farm. He bas the cash under his roof this moment: just five thousand dollars, in clean gold!” He paused, because be had to, Those greedy knaves could not have heard his voice had it been lifted, so strong was their avaricious joy. And John Godfrey smiled grimly as he watcbed and listened, showing no anger even when the — two guards came in witbout leave, eager to share in that feast of anticipation, if not rea- son, ** Never mind now how I found al! this out— enough that I’m responsible for tbe truth of each word I’m speaking,” he added, when calm was once more restored. ‘I picked you fellows up, and promised you then, what I promise you now—every dollar of that pile shall be yours, if you care to take it!” “Boss?” ventured Dirty Dick, almost timidly. ‘Say it, flat-footed, Richard O’Grime.” ** Waal, ’course it’s all right, sence you say so, boss, but—whar’s your sheer come in at, ef we're to clean grab it all our own selves?” **In plainer words, you reckon I’m entirely too generous?” : ‘* Waal, don’t it kind o’ look that way, boss?” “No doubt it does to you, because you can’t see anything beyond the glitter of those yellow- boys,” half-sneered the arch-villain, ‘* But you needn’t borrow trouble on my account, Tm not filling your pockets simply because [ love you— though that goes without saying! You’re men and brothers, and all that, but—I’m another, if not more so,in my own eyes! And so—here’s the meat o’ the nut, gentlemen! “You claim the money, because that stands highest in your estimation. I claim the girl because I deem her a jewel beyond price, If if am content with my sbare, surely you hadn’t ought to kick?” ** But, boss, she’s jest a gal, ye know,” hesi- tated Dirty Dick, ‘* And because she is jest a gal, as you put it,. I’m more than willing to take ber as my share . of the immediate pene. Still, mind you, I | don’t say that’s all I expect to win out of the job. You’re to bave the gold, and anything else that strikes your fan¢ey as being worth the trouble of carrying off when the raid is made. Only one thing is tabooed—Little Sure Shot,” ‘**She’s your meat, boss, 0’ course,” ‘*Of course. “Now I’Jl say just a little more. You know the racket that’s being kicked up. You know that an Indian war is almost a cer- tainty, and that before the first snow flies, And ou know, too, that young Woodbridge—Silver- lade, he pow calls himself—has already broken away from home, to join the ghost-dancers, ‘* Well, it’s ten to one tbat the young hot-head gets his light snuffed out. If the soldiers don’t 0 it, then—never mind! e’ll never come back to ask questions, be sure of that! **Old Luke is all white, so bell never join the Shoshones. His wife is all red, so he'll never fight against her people. That puts him be- twixt the devil and the peap sea, and I’m open to lay long odds he'll never live to see the cur- tain go down on the farce—a bit bloody, maybe, but still a farce! ** Do you begin to see through the shell, gentle knayes? With Little Sure Shot as my legal wife—for it’s well worth the trouble, when you come to look at all sidesof the question—who'll come in as chief winner? Your humble ser- vant, or I don’t begin to know myself! J. G.,or I haven’t rightly appraised the value of Wood- bridge Rauch, lot, stock, and good-will!” With a low, amused laugh, Godfrey noted the effectof hisspeech, CHAPTER X. . y A MAN WITHOUT MERCY. ene Drety Dick put on an expression of unbound- ed rapture, his pig-eyes rolling Soy Pah his fellows showed more truth if less api hey — could not yet see through the fog as clearly as they wished, ; **Don’t you see it?’ mocked Godfrey, reading their looks aright. ‘‘ And yet, to my eyes, it’s plainer thafi daylight. And all it needs to set it — 4 I
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in motion, is for the right hand to give the pot a bit of a stir.” “You mean to jump the ranch, then?” asked another of the iV. _ “Sure! And if old Luke comes out of the racket in talking order, set me down for an idiot!” - “‘He'll make a tough fight, if he’s given the chance,” ‘Of course, but that won’t save him. And when he’s gone—for Silverblade don’t count— the girl will be sole heiress to all his stock and lands. That’s good enough for me, without a share of the gold!” The lank knave shrugged his narrow shoul- ders, laughing barshly. “She’s half-and-half, but still the girl’s too white to ever kiss the hand that’s reddened by her father’s blood, boss,” “Who'll tell her that? Teach your grand- mother the art of sucking eggs, Frinkle! If a gang of tribeless red-skins jump the ranch, and make a clean sweep, and I comeon tbe ~~ just in time to snap the little beauty out of their lawless clutches, what more natural than for her to reward me after the regulation fashion?” ‘* Go soak yer head, Frinkle!” exploded Dirty Dick, catching his cue and making the most of it, according to his custom, ‘Set yourself up to show the boss which is t’other? Scat, ye critter! I’m beshamed o’ ye, so I be, now!” **-You shut!” with an angry glance in that di- rection, then again facing the chief, with: ** You mean—just what, boss?” ‘That the ghost racket needs a push in this quarter. That things are kept to a sleepy sim- mer entirely too long for the good of | grnngean of fortune, like myself. And so—we’ll give the ce stir, and charge it all to the red-skins, ‘* We're to jump the ranch, rigged out like Injuns? We're to leave the place painted Injun fashion, then?” ** Just so, dear fellow,” bowed Godfrey, with rim smile, ‘And what about tho two fellows over yon- der?” with a nod toward the tree where Big = Buck and Max Donaldson were bound as ** Who do you reckon they are, Tom?’ ** One of them is the fellow they call Cowboy Max,” replied Frinkle. ‘I knew him atsight, and I'd hate mightily to give odds he don’t knew me as well, if only from the feel,” “You're right; one is Max Donaldson, pet of at least one member of the Woodbridge family,” his brows contracting with the words. ‘“ But if he’s well worth all the trouble it cost to put him in limbo, what price ought men of our caliber to set upon bis mate?’ ** You know him, too, boss?’ “I know him; yes! And I doubt if there’s one among you but what knows of him, if only / by reputation. Did any of you ever hear tell of Big orn Buck, the Border Beagle?” here was no need of words, though nearly every pair of lips parted with ejaculations of surprise and anger, if not of actual fear, Their faces spoke still more eloquently, however. “ Horton is his real name,” added Godfrey, seeming to find pleasure in refreshing their memories, ‘He got the title of Big Horn a good many years ago, through scenting out and running down a gang of stock-lifters in the val- a of the Little Big And that ex- BP oit, together with a number of others, equally - daring, (for I'll give him so much credit,) won _ for bim the rest of his long handle. And unless my information is false, he’s still playing the part of a beajzle along the northern border; in the revenue service, I bear, “ He'll not stay in it long, boss, unless you tie my. bands!” viciously grated Tom Frinkle, “You don’t exactly love him, then?” -» “Thad a brother in that outfit, and when the racket wus over —well, there was a halter _ around his neck when I found him!” ** Ts that so?” _ 3 just is, boss!” _“ And if I were to say: ‘Tom, work your own sweet will on Buck, oo Big Horn? ” ne Try me and see ” __ “Maybe I will, in the end,” said Godfrey, ris- _ ing painfully to bis feet, slowl straightening his bent bac and stiffened shoulders. * J’ll not | say for sure, until after I’ve bad a look at the gentleman who— Fire and furies!” orn River, rom ovgr one eye, of sirvérbiade, the Shoshone. the camp-scene. How long this inspection. had lasted, could only be guessed at, but Godfrey knew that his own face, cast into full relief by that ruddy glow, surely had been photographed by that keen eye. Dirty Dick saw the same thing, and with cat- like swiftness he leaped across the space, jerking the bandage back to its place, ‘*He must ’a’ rubbed it off ’gainst the tree, boss,” he muttered, as he came back. ‘ But what matter? He don’t know ary one 0’ us!” ““He knows we are white,” scowled Godfrey, but beginning to rally from that disagreeable shock, now that his back was turned and that keen eye hidden from sight. ‘If let go free, he’d fall to work putting two and two together. Then—what ?” ‘*Devil a care I care,” grunted the squat knave, shrugging his broad shoulders, ‘‘ All I ax is to git my share o’ the yaller boys, an’ then he kin figger all he likes, fer me!” ‘So you think now, Dick, but I tell you the globe wouldn’t begin to be big enough to lend you a safe hiding-place, if the Border Beagle once makes up his mind to strike your trail.” * All right,” with anothrr shrug. ‘‘ Let him croak, then.” ‘Give me leave, and he'll never take another trail, unless it’s his own: and that will end at his grave!” viciously growled Frinkle. wi wh not?’ nodded Dirty Dick. played Injun plenty ’nough. He kin git his even-up, an’ yit leave things so it "ll be ‘nother black job to score up ag’inst the reds, Why not, I say ag’in?” Tom Frinkle flashed out a knife and took one leap toward the two helpless prisoners, but aused, then recoiled, as John Godfrey stepped Leow with uplifted hand. ‘* Don’t you be in a rusb, pardner.” ** You said—didn’t he spot us all?’ snarled the ruffian, showing his yellow teeth in a wolfish in of hatred. “It looked that way, but-—-who_ knows?” **'Tom’s Maybe he hadn’t time to make any dangerous discoveries, after all.” “Tf you see fit to run that risk, you’ve no right to make others share your peril,” sulkily muttered Frinkle, checked, but far from being resigned. Jobn Godfrey laughed, softly. ‘¢ You reckon I’d let him go scot-free, Tom?” ‘ It looks that way, I reckon.” ‘*Looks are mighty deceptive, sometimes, Thomas,” “‘ Then—give me five minutes with that blood- hound, and Fs can have my leavings!” “‘T fear I could put them to no good use.” with another hard laugh. ‘‘ But, don’t jump over the traces, Frinkle. Because I hold your hand now, that’s no sign I’m wholly in love with Big Horn Buck.” ‘‘ Then—I can salivate him, after all?” ‘“ Wait a bit. Maybe we can put the whelp to some use, before shutting off his wind for all time. Even if we can’t— well, it’s a poor hand who does work for bimself, when another can do it for him in heap sight better style.” _ With that enigmatical morsel for his cogita- tion, John Godfrey left Tom Frinkle to nurse his hatred after his own liking, passing over to where the prisoners rested with backs against the trees to which they were/securely bound with their own lariats, He stood in silence before them, for a brief period. Neither moved or gave sign, though their ears 1aust have warned them of his com- ng. “Well, Big Horn Buck Horton,” at length spoke up Godfrey, ‘‘ How do you reckon you feel, just about now?”, : Neither abegond stirred, neither one spoke, though their lips were uncovered. a Big Horn Buck, I say!” repeated Godfrey, leaning forward far enough to lightly slap the face of the elder man. ‘* Who’s he?” Horton asked, with a start and involuntary shrinking. ‘“*Have you forgotten sneered God mis f “ Why should I forgetit?” “Wh y didn’t you answer to it, when called?” “So I will, when it is called, But you said— Big who?” “*Big Horn Buck, with Horton for a continu- ation, and Border Beagle for a finishing tag. Ever hear of the gentleman?” ““T’ve heard that he was a— though!” ‘* Of course I’m not, since— But, why do you speak so positively?” “Well, I’ve always beard say that Buck Hor- ton was a white man.” “ And you don’t think I’m white, then?” Silence. your own name?” Yowre not him, "Ts that free leave to speak the blunt truth, stranger?” hesitated the prisoner, Jike one doubt- ful as to the prudence of freeing his mind of the weight upon it, “Call it that, if you like. What makes you think I’m not white?” persisted Godfrey, curious to learn just how far his captive would carry the comedy, ‘* Well, a white man acts white, don’t he?” ‘No doubt, when it’s to his own interest.” ** Anda white man wouldn’t bounce a stran- ger behind his back, without asking yes or no, would he?” **In the style we bounced you and your mate, of course?’ ‘Just that,” with as much of a nod as his bonds would permit, ‘‘How had we injured you? What had we done to deserve such treat- ment?” ; ss Wait a bit. What were you playing spy or ‘* To see what was to be seen, of course,” with a half-laugh, ‘‘We were making for ‘Wood- bridge Ranch, when we sighted a fire. We knew —as you must know—that the red-skins are grow- ing mcnstrous uneasy, of late, and as this gent belongs to the ranch, and we couldn’t tell but what the Injuns were plotting mischief that way, be? a tried to find out. Is that a dead- ly crime?” ‘Not if it were truth, but mag * near a crime to have any fun now you’re caught!” aes sg Then you're playing in with the reds?” ‘Lie number— Bah! I’ve lost count! You play it down fine, Big Horn, but you’ve gone in too deeply for simple lying to bring you safe ashore,” “My name is Mark Short. I’m a cowboy and bull-puncher, out of a job. I met up with this gent—I’d give ye a regular knock-down to him, if I knew your handle, or his, for that matter.” **Never mind. I fancy we can worry along without that ceremony, and if we never met before—” “We've met just once too often, John God- frey!” hotly broke forth Cowboy Max, losing sight of prudence in bis strong hatred for the lie, it’s too it—for you, man. “T’m glad you realize that plain fact, Donald- son, for it’ll save wind when I getaround to your ease, As for you, Buck Horton, I not only know our name, your past record, your profession of bloodhound in the United States Revenue Ser- vice, but I also know just why and for what you have come to these parts. Now, knowing all this, one word: where. and to whom shall report your death?” CHAPTER XI. OMINOUS PREPARATIONS, “T RECKON you mean it asa favor, by your note, strangers?’ half-asserted, balf-asked the prisoner, vind “Tt’s afavor 1’m more than_willin you, Big Horn, at any rate. What address did . you whisper?” ; , “You needn’t mind. I'd heap sight rather my friends never found out in what nasty com- pany my last hours were spent.” Jobn Godfrey broke into a coarse laugb, that was not wholly counterfeit, This was more like the person he firmly believed had fallen into his power, and ruthless as he could show himself on occasion, it would be easier to destroy an open enemy than a declared neutral. ‘More like it! The genuine Big Horn twang, at last! You are Buck Horton, safe enough, old | mun, so why not confess?” ‘You feel the need of a lying pardner, then?” “I'm digging after the truth, instead, and you know 1'!” “You won't see it when I point it out, so what’s the use?” with a note of weary disgust as his head settled back against the tree to whose trunk he was roped, “I’m Mark Short, out of a job, and I was making for one when you roped me. That's all I can tell you, if you want tbe lain truth, though you keep on chawing wind ~ or a season,” ¥ 5 ‘You are Buck Horton, called Big Horn Buck ever since you rounded up the Prickett gang, in Montana, You're the Border Beagle, and your range is back and forth along the line, above. Shall 1 tell you what butiness brought you this far down?” . “Not by my asking, stranger. If you're stuck on chinning, I can’t well hinder, unless— I say, stranger!” “Say it, then.” : ‘“*Tf you really feel the need of something to kill time, why not take off these hobbles and turn me foot-free?” ‘* What would that benefit me?” to show M o
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‘Well, I don’t say it’d make you any richer jor even any handsomer, but I do reckon you'd know a heap sight more about fun than you do right now!’ ‘In still plainer words?” ‘Pm just beginning to feel like pawing dirt! It takes me a considerable spell to raise my dander, but when I do cume, it’s head up and tail a-switching! I’m just a lone maverick, hoofs travel-worn and both horns splintered to the rings, but with blinkers off, and room to bi ink can stampede both you and your out- t! With the last word, the prisoner flung him- self against his bonds so desperately, that Godfrey sprung back, involuntarily dropping a hand to grasp a revolver: for the first time seeming to remember bow completely he had been disarmed by Luke Woodbridge, when the closing fingers failed to clutch the familiar butt. ‘Roped with my own riata! Iknow it b the feel! Isay, stranger?” - “What is it, Buck lorton?” ‘* Ain’t you playing it just a bit too low down on a fellow, making him furnish both subject and rope?” “We'll hang you with another, and that'll balance the score. And you, Max Donaldson, what can—” “Go shake yourself!” interrupted Cowboy Max, unable to play a part before one so thor- joughly detested. “ Tl even-up with you, John |Godfrey, if it takes a lifetime!’ ** Well, if that lifetime means your own lease, you’ve got to "tend to your knitting mighty steady, Max, o’d socks!” laughed the other, turning away from the twocaptives, apparently abandoning all hope of winning the ends which had brought him there. “You don’t reckon thar’s ary mistake, boss?” ventured Dirty Dick, sidling toward his master, much as a whiffet approaches a bigger dog, in whose friendliness he feels strong doubts. bar Ps um, eh?” ‘ The ‘What would you do with him, if I stood aside, Frinkle?” : : Make him wish he’d never been born!” I’m not so sure of that,” smiling grimly as he shook, his head, sinking gingerly to the prams, then producing pipe and a plug of to- cco, ‘* You think you would, just now, but once you had the chance, I’m betting odds you'd catch a glimpse of your brother in the halter, and—well, it might) be an even-up, so |far as life goes, but it’d be over a mighty sight oy anick for me!” ‘You hate him, then? You don’t mean to turn him loose, boss?” eagerly asked the venge- ful knave, ‘ _ “I do hate him, and I’ve good cause for do- ing so, Til not turn him loose, with life in his body. And—Frinkle?” . * Yes, boss? 4 > s “If I bold your knife back, it’s a, be- cause I reckon we can snuff that candle sight more scientifically !” trey was budlly sailing tite ee) soca th u utting bi rom the hard plug with bis peckecteit tee tbe fragments still finer with his knuckles as they lay in the hollowed palm of his other hand. ae = ap Bi caphogn much longer, boss?” ‘rinkle at length asked, showing some d of timidity, however. ff ate ‘Until Pm ready to move,” came the gruff response. ‘‘ Don’t botber me now. I’m study- ing it all out, and the more you— Scat!” rinkle beat a retreat, but squatted down in | spot where he had an uninterrupted view of the net whose life he so bitterly thirsted for. ‘That lets me out! With those eyes on guard, Big Horn Buck might as well abandon all hope of giving us the slip. And so—bow would the die And—is it worth the trouble to try Shifting about until he found the position oan: ior his ame rn tis Godfrey let his Sink upon his chest, closing his | nd smoking slowly, Jost in thought, . vee uring the first hour or so, frequent glances were that way by his anxious followers, poe aon even Dirty Dick cared to risk any ques- ‘Ev'ry man to his own notion,” quoth that grimy omeigty igh in subdued tone as time crept along, ‘‘ but my idee is like this: All eyas wi © Open, an’ clay | don’t call fer the _ | bled critters, but r takin’a rest. *Course it when a boss { * . ‘ LA ok Me j ; ‘fi A ee de i! Ati bake heap ketknife, then grinding» ull gang to watch two hob- is raked over +. fp . 4 ft : Co , : ANE Aarons 5 cas ieee Cio ne nosnone. ilverblade, the back—turribly ’g’inst the grain, too, J tell ye! When things is gone that-a-way, I say, I’m keepin’ safe side o’ the ’vision fence!” With all bis faults, Richard was no fool, and his wakeful example was followed by bis mates, They scattered around as each one saw fit, and took their ease as far as disturbed minds permitted, but none of them closed an eye in sleep, and they took turns in standing guard. There was little probabilty of an enemy put- ting in an appearance, but such had happened once, and might bappen again, for all they could tell to the contrary. Despite bis quietude, broken only when his ipe required replenishing or refilling, John odfrey slept not; and when the night was con- siderable more than half spent, his busy thought bore fruit, and he rose to his feet with acry that brought the gang around him. “We'll shift our location, boys,” were bis first words, ‘‘ Which of you can spare mea gun and knife, for good pay?” Offers came from each man, and Godfrey took his choice, electing with a judgment that spoke well for his experience in weapons, And this ‘tiv recpeeld being effected, he issued bis orders, riskly enough: **Two of you pack up all portables, for we'll hardly come back here right away. The ip AR ak those two fellows in marching or- er. SOT cae, or critter-back, boss?” asked Dirty ick. ‘* Make em walk. It'll limber up their mus- cles, and we’ve time enough for what’s before us. ; Half an hour later, the camp-ground was deserted, and a little procession was winding its pig over tangled ground, heading te the west, _ All were, in the saddle, with Godfrey lead- ing — way, save the two prisoners and Tom inkle, Both Horton and Donaldson bad their arms snugly bound behind their backs. Their legs were unhampered, of course, but.a lariat was looped about each neck, the slack leading to one of the horsemen, And Tom Frinkle of his own choice, acted as ‘* whipper-in.” It gave him 4 little scope for revenge, if only through pricking up the captives as they hasten- ed along at the tail of the horse to which they were a pendant. None save John Godfrey seemed to know whither that journey was to carry them, and not even Dirty Dick ventured to ask questions. But all felt that it bad av important bearing on the doom of the two prisoners, and, as those luckless fellows toiled along, even they began to wish that the ending migbt come. Possibly Godfrey enjoyed their torture too much to cut it short though he said never a word, cast never a glance backward at bis victims; ibly the rough hature of the land called for it all; be that as it may, he led the way with many a crook and turn, heading in different di- rections, though keeping a general course to- ward the west. In this manner the remainder of the night was nearly spent, before he called a balt, leay- ing his saddle with the air of one who bas at length reached the destination held in view throughout, “Let ’em lay, lads,” he said, as the jaded pris- oners sunk to the ground, worn out by their ter- rible trip through the nigbt. ‘ Frinkle can keep an eye on them. I want the rest ‘over here,” / He drew apart, where the faint murmur of voices alone told the captives of speech going forward; and then a fire was kindled, the grow- ing light of which told the captives they bad been brought near the brink of a precipice, though its depth could only be guessed at, as et, As bis men set about carrying out the in- structions he he given them during that brief withdrawal; John Godfrey came back to where bis prisoners were now sitting, the Jarjats still looped about their necks, rief as bad been that respite, they bad in a degree recovered from their breathlessness, ’and there was nothing of fear in the eyes which noted bis coming, ; ‘Remove their cra: ats, Tom,” with a nod to Frinkle. ‘Take away ti> nags, but leave the ropes, We'll have vse for them by the time day begins to peep, Ncw—how do you like it, far as you've got, gents? “‘ None the better for having a share of your wind,” grunted Horton, curling bis nose and averting bis face, ‘Have you brought us so far, just to smother us?” | Tea ** Don’t you believe it,” laugsed Godfrey, low- ering his frame to the ground before them. *““That’sold. We'reoriginal, or nothing, We've concluded to dispose of you after—guess at the fashion, won’t you, Big Horn?” **Don’t gratify the devil by swapping words, pardner,” sulkily muttered Cowboy Max. ** He’s past shaming, and we’re too white to beg! © You say so now, but when-— Ready, lads?” turning his head at the sound of approaching footsteps. ‘Ready fer to make a beginnin’, anyway, boss,” grinned Dirty Dick, dropping bis end of a freshly cut pole, some twelve feet long and about three inches thick at the smaller end. * How’ll this fit in, boss?” ** Neat enough, I reckon,” with an approving nod, ‘It’s not so much the stage properties that matter, since we'll take good care to have the actors letter perfect in their parts, I say, Dick?” ‘* All ears open, boss.” : ‘I don’t ask if you ever wore the army blue. You're too neat, too clean, too prim and precise for that! But, you’ve been within eyeshot of a military guard-house, I judge?” ‘* Bet I hev—an’ inside o’ more’n one, too. Contraband whisky.” “T thought as much, from words you let drop at odd spells, Well, did you ever hear of such a thing as buck-and-gag?” ‘** Done see’d ’em, an’ done feltem, too, boss!” with another grin. CHAPTER XII. THE DEED OF A DEMON. “BeTTerR yet! Im acquainted with the ane * but since you’re up to the practice, go abead !” \ ‘*On these critters, boss?” “Of course. Handle them gently, for I'm above offering damaged goods toeven— Never mind who or what, just at present. Do your work, and do it up in true military style, Dick!” Dirty Dick was nothing loth, and witb several stout fellows to carry out his instructions, the task os sree accomplished. stp First ta the precaution to tie the feet of each man together, lest they make an effort to break away when their arms were freed, the last mentioned members were released, Lrought around in front, to bave stout thongs wrapped around the wrists and firmly knotted, Then, with actval force, since neither Big Horn nor Cowboy Max were men to lighten an enemy’s labors, their knees were drawn up until they nearly touched chin, The arms were bent at the elbows, separated widely enough to be slipped over the knees and down as far as the shins, Then two men held the prisoners in a sittin posture, while the otbers forced the trimmed | le under each pair of knees, and over each race of arms, thus leaving the prisoners utter- ly helpless, and in a position which would quick- ly become torture itself, ‘“‘That’s what it means to be bucked and gagged,” chuckled Godfrey, as Dirty Dick band- ed bim a couple of rough rolls of cloth, tied around with leather thongs, ‘ You’re bucked. You'll be gagged in due time, And then, what comes next, do you reckon?” “IT know what'll come to you, if ever I get out of this hobble!” said Horton, bis rage at last getting the upper hand. ‘I'll hunt you off the face of the earth! And if I can’t find you above ground, I’ll scent out your grave, and drag you forth to poison wolves with!” “Did you ever take time from your trailing to study out the length, breadth and thickness of that big little word ‘/f!, Big Horn? But ‘if? deals with the future; and this is the present, old hound!” y r “Get it over with, you cur!” gratingly ex- claimed Cowboy Max, . Py “In a eocig © eb?” Jaughed Godfrey, shifting: his position a_ bit, so as to more fairly face the cowboy. ‘ But I'm in no mighty rusb. Vd, _ lose balf my get-even if J sent you over on your} — last trip without blowing at least _a portion of © the fog from your muddy brait. So—bave you | never a last wo d to send to Little Sure Shot, dandy cuck?” . ; aioed ‘Name her not, you devil: Tl tear your— Oh, for just one fair grip at your vile throat!” Jobn Godfrey laughed loudly, bie face more _ that of a demon than a human being, just then. This was a foretaste of vengeance, and he was rerseoy Mri dg by nature and training, to fully | enjov it. renin Te Pa: ‘ Now you shut, pardner,” muttered Horton, — in turn. ‘ Talking’s no good, since we can’t back it up.” iyi Bod oe “Sensible to the last, Big\Horn! I'll carve i rt he ers.
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‘those words on your tombstone, if the bair isn’t too thick and the bide too tough,” laughed Gorlfrey, though his eyes snapped angrily as be saw Cowboy Max lock his jaws, in evident obedience. ‘‘ Besides, ’'m just running over with talk, and I’ll agree to do enough for all hands, “To begin with, my precious friend, let me beg you to borrow no trouble because of Little Sure Shot, Ll see that she basn’t time in which to grow lonely, and I'll keep her so well occu- pied that I doubt if she even wonders what’s be- come of her dundy cow-puncher! “Tm not at all modest when everything is sailing my way, Max, old boy, and hence it comes that I'll own up squarely that you did rather hold the bulge on me, up to date, so far as pretty Enola was concerned. **T knuw that you popped, and I know that she gave you back a much softer, tenderer, sweeter explosion, ‘And since I can speak thus calmly | concerning the little slips made by my destined wife, you can guess bow fully assured I am that she'll never sin again after that fashion—with Max Donaldson as an accomplice!” This was torture bitterer than death, but Cow- boy Max kept his jaws locked, saying never a word, though be felt obliged to close hig eyes, He could not meet that devilish leer and keep bis peace. / *“Sulky, eh? Sorry for you, Max, but, truth is mighty and must prevail, It’s gospel I’m slinging at you in chunks, and if it likes you not, fault fate and not your humbleservant, And so | —being gospel, who has a better right to a liberal dose, than those whose doom is sealed, whose tomb is even now hungering for them? Literally hungering, too, though you may not exactly understand what that means! “You see, old fellow—which includes Big Horn, of course,” with a curt nod toward the second prisoner. ‘* You see, being on my way to the wedding, so to speak, itirks me mightily to even think of coming before my bride with red bands. And so—I’ve elected a deputy, and he or she—I’m not dead sure just which one will come to the funeral-feast first, you see!—is wait- ing for the offering.” Godfrey broke off abruptly at that, for he felt a@ burning gaze on his face which involuntarily drew his eyes toward Big Horn Buck. And what he read in those glowing orbs, caused him to draw back and spring impaleaity to his feet, casting a glance toward the east, now sbowing a ruddy tinge which spoke of a new day. *“*Enough chin, and now for a spice of dey- iltry!” he ejaculated, lifting a hand in com- mand. ‘*Gag them both, and do it up brown, We'll have music enough without their chirping, never fear!” His order was quickly carried out, though it ‘called for actual force before those locked jaws could be pried apart far enough to insert the AES, * When these were firmly knotted in place, God- frey made another signal, and the confiscated lariats were snugly fastened, one to each end of the pole on which the prisoners were ‘* bucked,” side hy side, “Over with them, my gentle lads!” cried God- frey, harshly, waving a hand toward the not distant escarpment. ‘‘ Do it smoothly as pos- sible, but if an accident should bappen, it’ll be providence bears the blame, not us, Over with ants I say!” This was no easy task, with such a weight, so peculiarly distributed, but after the heavy bur- den was once fairly over the edge of the cliff, at a point precisely indicated by the chief villain, the rest came more easily. Godfrey stood a little to one side, leaning far’ over the edge, peering downward like one search- ing for some particular spot, and guided by his words, tbe task was finally completed. The rocky ledge was of no great height, after all, and as the helpless victims were only lowered art of the way to the bottom of the narrow | a aelek. or canyon, the lariats proved long enough lene nd them in the chosen position, and yet had slack sufficient to tie around the nearest ee. ; “You raally Bs le itll pan out rigbt, boss?’ _ muttered Dirty Dick, drawing a ragged sleeve across his damp brow. * Why wouldn’t it work?” “Waal, J hain’t ketched no music tunin’ up as yit. An’ so—ef you say so, I hain’t gwine to do h ‘3 Few \ no kickin’, boss!” ; ‘*That’s a resolve good for your health, Rich- ard,” nodded bis master, with a grim smile, as he drew back a little from the edge of the precipice. ‘ As for its working to a dot, I’m pledged. I know they are dangling directly in Soe of the nce, hardly out of paw’s leugth ~ . SiLverplade, the Shoshone, lion dens in there, for I sent a she inside, with a bullet-gash across one baunch, only two days ago.” *’Course she wouldn’t hunt safer quarters, boss?” “* Hardly, since I heard the miauling of her cubs, just after she vanished. Reckon she clawed ’em a bit, to even-up as best she dared, I’m not exactly a coward, if I do say it myself, Richard, but I come away without trying to en- ter and yavk madam out,” ‘*Durned ef I blame ye, boss!” with a wry grimace. ‘‘They’re no turrible shakes when ye ketch ’em out in the open, but when to hum— waal, not any in mine, thank ye, ma’am!” Tom Frinkle bad been listening to each word as spoken, but now he came forward, his face brightening up marvelously as he spoke: ‘*You really mean it, boss?) They’re to hang there until the lions jump ’em both?” ‘7 surely do, Frinkle. Why? Isn’t that enough to satisfy even your thirst? Think of it, man! Think what they’re suffering, even this soon, although 1 took care not to drop a hint of the whole truth in their way! trussed up! And then—” ‘Tf they’d only begin!” snarled Frinkle, with- out waiting for more, but throwing himself flat on the ground, with bead and shoulders thrust over the edge of the fall, his evil eyes fairly ablaze with hatred and fiendish longing, waiting for the bloody sport to begin. ‘Wake me up if the circus opens before my eyes. do” yawned Godfrey, moving back uncer cover of the trees hard\ by. ‘' And don’t let Vag spoil sport by trying to hurry it up, ick, Despite his sore shoulders, the villain was soon lost in slumber, as were all of his men save Dirty Dick and Tom Frinkle, Lust of blood kept sleep from the eyes of the latter, while his mate seemed able to live with- out closing his eyes, when the occasion arose. Together they kept watch over the dvomed men suspended in front of the lion’s den, but the sun was well up before a sound came to indicate an inhabitant of that den, Then, however, just as Dirty Dick was drawing back in huge if smothered disgust, a low, moaning sound came upward to their ears. ‘*The lion, by glory!” panted Frinkle, his bloodshot eyes flasbing anew. ‘It’s coming! Rouse the boss, Dick, and—” “ When the show begin§ to show, not afore,” was the gruff response. ‘‘ He needs sleep, a’ter that turrible lacin’ he ketched, an I’ git him on deck in plepty time. Never you fret, pardner,” From time to time that strange sound, now faint, pow clear, but ever proceeding from the saine quarter, came to their ears; but a full hour more crept along without the beast mak- ing its appearance in front of its den, Just as Frinkle’s patience was giving out, there came a hoarse cry from the slope to the right, and turning, they caught sight of the ‘withered frame of Jack Dunks, the man whom Godtrev had sent to act as spy around Wood- bridge Ranch. ‘‘'Whar’s the boss, an’ be durned to ye!” he cried, pantingly, as he drew nearer. ‘‘ Why didn’t ye leave—” 2 ‘Hal you, is it, Jack?” exclaimed Godfrey, springing to his feet, then reeling dizzily with the pain that sudden movement caused in his lacerated shoulders and back. “What's left o’ me, boss,” in milder tones though a scowl was still marking his wrinkled visage. ‘I’ve pritty nigh run my hind legs clean off o’ me, trailin’ ye up, boss! ‘‘Out with it! What’s wrong?” “ You tell! My part’s this: old man tuck hoss, an’ rid on the keen jump, down Injun- camp way.” ‘* How long since?” “Last night. Not much afore the middle, I reckon,” ‘Before midnight! And here it is almost noon! You lazy devil!” his bands gripping fiercely as he started forward, “Go easy, boss!” cried Dunks, shrinking back but speaking swiftly: ‘‘I was at the camp in plenty time, but you’d gone, an’ left no sign.” “ Curses on my forgetfulness! But it can’t be mended, now. Quick, lads! No time to lose! Luke’s gone for his boy, and he’ll fetch him back, too! Maybe with a gang o’ reds to back ’em up! On saddle! We've got to get there Jirst, or it’s all day with your divyy!” ‘* But the devils down yonder, boss?” scowled Frinkle, reluctantly leaving his lookout, ‘‘ The lion’s snarling, right now!” ‘Then she'll make quick work of them, be suffering worse than death, the way they are | from the little bench, I know that a mountain sure, | They’re already | do, after parting with David the last time: ‘taken by the departing company. We can’t wait for that, but we can come|__ back if all goes well, Now—git there !” ea * And he was the first man to cross leg over sad e. j hun wot the jdre: CHAPTER XIII, TRUTH AGAINST SUPERSTITION. Jack DuNKS, the spy sent to Woodbridge Ranch by John Goafrey, told the truth so far as| A his light went: Luke Woodbridge did take|bef horse an hour or so before midnight, and didl|can ride “‘ hot-foot” in the direction of the Shoshone|tho camp, where he had good reason for believing }wor his wayward son, David, might be found, las k _All white though he was, the stockmav loved] L his Indian wife as dearly, as truly, as entirely |can as other men love their wives of equal blood; his and when, on this night, Ler illness seemed to bef take a turn for the worse, and she began calling] § for ber ‘little brave” to come to her side, he hol could no longer resist, His pride went down }his before his love, and leaving Enola to watch |stre over the wife, he took horse and sped away in ithe quest of the son. you This was what he had sternly sworn never to m soul David no longer, thanks to the mad dreams which bad come into his brain of late! For himself, that oath would never have been violated, but for the mother— , “ That’s different!” he muttered while riding rapidly forward, never so much as thinking of such a thing as being dogged, though he might have made that discovery had his brain been Jess troubled, Jess deeply absorbed, ‘* He hasn’t had time to grow all bad. He hasn’t forgotten {f his mother, though he may his fathcr and sister, | Nola saidc—what?”’ at wa) He found it difficult to keep his thoughts fbut straight. There was an ugly buzzing in his | « brain that wrapped everything ina mist. And} ¢ 80 it was that he had to repeat that questiun to |wit himself, over and over again, before the right |ton answer came, nov Enola had confessed to Luke that she had | * asked Cowboy Max to seek out David and beg [thi him to come home, because of his mother’s sick- fing ness, She had been expecting them both, but— his “She’s wasting time, that way, my dimpling! |cer The boy’ll never listen to Max, where he wis | & deaf to his father, He'll nevercome— What?” |eol flinging back bis head much as he bad done a ray few hours before, when he confronted John God- janc frey. ‘*‘ Never come, when mother wants him? | He shall come, if I have to pack him, like a fat }ma sheep!” Dee Luke Woodbridge showed scant mercy to his |wo good horse, pressing it on as rapidly as thedark- | ‘ ness and the nature of the hon would permit, |cor He rode as only a natural horseman can, and |mo was pitiless only in that one respect; be would {drs not pause until his destination was reached, and ffea his mission made known, his Jack Dunks, all unsuspected, kept within [W« bearing, if not within sight, until nearly oppo- ie site the rendezvous where be expected to find Iter his chief and his mates. The spy was disappoint- |as' ed, as shown, and the same fate awaited Luke. |me Woodbridge some time later: be, also, found but fing a deserted camp! fin | The ‘‘mouthpiece of the Messiah,” taking | § alarm at that involuntary visit of the two pards, {hoi had given orders for camp to be shifted, lest I they suffer from the curse which already kept | ‘ company with all of white blood. C0 Of course Luke Woodbridge could not know ic this, He knew that the camp had shifted, and : that was misfortune enough to fill his anxious jof soul with dark forebodings, his ** How far? Which way? To join those cursed : Sioux?” all The very thought turned bim sick and faint | | at heart. He had parted with his son, coldly, the harsbly, yet never before had he loved the youn hai fellow so ardently as then, when red blood [toy smothered white teaching, and red instinct {to mastered white reason. 4 “lam all red! 1 am _ Silverblade, son of ime Weenamoo, grandson to He-That-Fights-Long! |of Iam no longer David. I am he who follows the {m New Messiah!” : he So the young man—nay, but a boy!—before jbo he left him. Now, whither had that mad delu- : sion led him? Jf south, tounite with those never [Mc satisfied Sioux! no Luke Woodbridge almost fiercely choked back fve the groan that tried to rise to bis throat. He _ jto left the saddle and quickly sbaped a torch with which he might inspect the immediate vicinity fim of the camp, and at least learn the direction f That was easy to find, and as be followed the trail, plain and broad enough, as though these who left it behind them, no fears of being )
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kelbefore, Luke Woodbridge came i Silverblade, the Shoshone, me 13 Shunted, here and there he noted facts which would have escaped a less practiced eye. And the further he went, the lighter grew his worst dread, for he was growing almost sure this meant but @ changes of camps, not a migration south to join the hostiles. And so it proved, though the sun had risen upon that camp. Doggedly as he had persisted, and plain ne}though the trail was, torchlight tracking is slow 1g }work when the trailer has to pick up material as he goes along. ed} Luke Woodbridge was in the saddle when he y d3 to 4 he mn *h in ame into view of the new encampment, and {bis ears had warned bim what to expect, long before his eyesight was of avail. } Squatting in front of the Medicine Lodge, holding the long drum of hollowed wood between {his knees as he hammered the dried hide tightly istretched across its top, was an old Indian. in the cleared space before him, a score or more young Indians were circling to the left, their curved fingers interlocked, one with another, their heads thrown back and their glassy eyes Staring upward, their ‘feet stamping in time with each drum-beat, their voices mingling together in hoarse, monotonous chant, broken mow and again by a wild screech of frenzy. Here and there lay or stood single figures, but Luke Woodbridge hardly noticed them. He had caught sight of one of those dancers, and |belioved in it he recognized his son, hideously painted, wildest of the wild, a picture which tilled his heart with savage grief. ith a aoarse shout he spurred his horse for- ward, one hand flung upward in token of amity, but the other gripping the butt of a revolver. ‘* Father! Why are you—” One of those solitary figures sprung forward jwith a sharp cry, but stopped short, feet as well tongue, For a single breath he had been David, now he was Silverblade! | ‘I want you, boy!” cried Woodbridge, some- thing like a red mist flashing in front of bis ach- ling eyes as he saw his mistake; as he knew that his son had nat formed one of tliose hideous dan- ers, ‘* Your mother—” ‘*T have no mother, Iam no longer a boy,” coldly declared Silverblade, but advancing with rapid strides until he stood between his father and those startled, angered dancers. Well for Luke Woodbridge that the medicine- man was absent from the new camp! If he bad been present, the lightest word from his lips would have brought about av ugly tragedy. Peace, brothers!” sternly cried the youthful convert, waving an open palm toward the others, more than one of whom had gra and even drawn deadly weapons, ‘There is nothing to fear from this man. He seeks Silverblade, and his eyes are blind to all else, Is it not so, Luke roger ae “Devil fly away with ’om all!” harshly mut- ered the stockman, his eyes fullof angry disgust s they flashed over thegathering. ‘‘ Come with me, David. our mother is sick, aud she’s call- ing for her boy! If we make haste, we may be in time to— Your horse, boy!” Silverblade ed the reine, turned the horse’s head, then walked briskly uway until the camp was hidden from sight, “Never mind me, David, Get your horse and come! Didn’t you hear what I said? Mother’s sick—she may be dead this moment,” “Tf so, her soul is under the sheltering wing of the Great Spirit,” gravely said Silverblade, his head bowing for a brief space, . “ But she sent me—she’s calling for her Davie, all the time! I ve ridden with red spur—see!” But the young man was not looking toward he foot thrust out in evidence. His keen ears bad caught uuother sound, and his swift turning oward that quarter, caused Luke Woodbridge 0 2g in same way. 16 bushes parted, and tha painted face of the medicine-man looked doubly Sissons as a band of ant mnligns ors athwart it, Then, his AMask of paint wrinkling with a sardonic grin he bu i “ip ve % shes divided to permit the passage of his “Are you losing faith, so soon, child of the Mother Snake?” he demanded harshly, ola at perotion to Luke bape after that one us glance, ou turning yo - peroing Mesiah a “il te ee rning on the devil and all such / ; Pt 88 you!” hotly cried the stockman, losing ght of prudence in bis impatience, ‘ He is my on he has but one mother, And that is calling to her child from her death- “Be it so! There will be one the less for th to swallow up with his deatis- wave.” : ‘eace!” almost savagely muttered the youth, Ni “ / ; bey stepping between the two men. “ Touch him not, Luke Woodbridge. Do him no harm, fath- er,” with a slight bowing of his head toward the medicine-man. Although it was not so calculated, that sign of submission cooled the fierce rage which boiled up in the stockman’s heart, And when hespoke, his voice was even, his eyes upon bis son, ignor- ing that painted tempter just beyond. “David, have you forgotten the mother who bore you? Will you not hear to her voice, when it begs you come? She is dying, boy!” **Silverblade, child of He-That-Fights-Long! Will you turn from everlasting life, in favor of eternal death? Will you prove false to the red blood that binds you to the Messiah?” ** David, will you listen to a devil, rather than hear your mother calling ber boy? Will you stay here , and let ber die, calling in vain?” “Tf Weenamoo dies now, she will rise again when the Messiah comes! Let Silverblade listen to the truth, not turn his ear to the false hissing of the tempter!” “She turned her face from me, David. She would not be satisfied even with her little girl, She kept calling amid her moans aud asps of pain, for her boy—for her little Davie!” ‘* Shall the Messiah hear no response when he calls aloud the name of Silverblude, the Sho- Shone? When he asks why this is so, shall he be told a white cur had sucked away the red blood, leaving Silverblade but a traitorous pale-face?” ‘**Saut up, ye devil from hell’s deepest pits!” hoarsely cried the white man, once more losing his forced composure, ‘Till tear your lying tongue cut by the roots if you dare stand be- ox a dying mother and the son she’s ‘begging or So terrible was that face in its just anger, that the medicine-man sprung back a pace or two, @ sharp cry breaking through his lips: a cry which brought an instantaneous response from the ghost-dancers, And as one man, the Indians came rushing in that direction. “Stop them, father!” sternly cried Silver- blade, drawing closer to his father, each hand whipping forth arevolver. ‘‘Jam Silverblade, but he is the busband of Weenamoo, and she is my mother! Stop them, or—” ‘““ We'll have plenty of company, David!” laughed Woodbridge, his face filling with the true battle light. ‘‘And Vil take you first, devil!” The loss of an instant would have cost the medicine-man his life, and just as certainly doomed both father and son to death at the hands of that rushing crowd of fanatics. But Silverblade caught the stockman’s hand, forcing it lower, until the pistol muzzle touched his own bare breast, “Through my hart, first!” be said, with a blazed brightly strange coldness, though bis eyes as they looked up to that stertled face, With a gasp of horror, Woodbridge dropped the weapon, but as a low taunting laugh came from the medicine-man, be rallied once more, “You devil! Ill cheat you even yet! David, are these crazy fools and evil schemers more to you than tbe dying kiss of your mother?” But Silverblade had turned to sign back the crowd, crying sternly: ‘Stop! you ere near enough. The father bids you stop short!” _“* Stop, my children,” coldly spoke the medi- cine-man, lifting his hand. ‘1 called aloud that ou might be witnesses to the battle between red lood and white, Now, Silverblade, make your choice. Which will you follow: the New Messiah, or this accursed white-face?” . CHAPTER XIV. 4 PARTIAL VICTORY. “ WHICH will you follow, David Woodbridge; the hiss of this lving snake, or the dying prayer of your mother?” The ee leaned over in his saddle, one hand gently touching the shoulder of his = ward son. But at the same instant, the medi- eine-man, bold in the presence of so many of his fanatics, stepped forward to sp an arm, ‘t Back, ye devil!” snarled Woodbridge, strik- ing that band away with flerce hatred. ‘‘ Hands “He is mine. He is red—all red! You are are white, and—” “What are you, beneath’ that lying paint? Hands off, I say! If it comes to that, let these poor, deluded wretches take choice between two white men! I am white—so are you! They have known me for ena ber some of them from infancy. But you—what do they know of you, as you would show up when robbed of that coat of paint?” | As though stunned by such a swift volley, the medicine-man fell back a pace or two. He even seemed to shrink, to cower; but that emotion was overcome 80 quickly that one could not be | quite sure. : | Silverblade, like one drawn by a tie he cannot | break, fell away from his father, and drew nearer to the false prophet. Woodbridge turned ghastly pale at that, but he fought back the sickening sensation as best he might, and made one more appeal: ‘* Your mother is dying, David. She calls for her boy; shall her death-prayer remain unheard, unanswered? Will you not come home, to mam- my, Davie, boy?” Silverblade shivered from crown to sole. He bent toward his father, then his lithe form swayed back, nearer the medicine-man. He seemed drawn both ways, and without strength to make a final choice. The prophet laughed softly. Woodbridge gave a low groan of pain, But he swiftly rallied, and lifting the pistol he still held, mate to the one of which be had been deprived by his son, he pressed the muzzle against his own forelead as he sternly spoke: **T told Weenamoo 1d bring her son if living; lll never go back to her alone!” ‘* Father!” “Let him go!” harsbly cried the prophet. ‘*Let bim die the death! "Twill be one the less for our Messiah to smother under’ his death- wave!” ' Better for his evil schemes had his tongue re- mained silent, just then. Superstition might bave conquered truth, even at such a terrible cost; but this coarse brutality proved the last ' | feather, and David Woodbridge struck aside the band that would have detained him, springing to his father’s side with the words: ‘* Hold! don’t shoot. Dll go with— Tl go to Weenamoo!” The medicine-man lifted a hand toward the eagerly-watchful braves, but as swiftly dropped it again, without making the fatal signal. **Go to Weenamoo, then, son of the Messiah,” he said, coldly, turning his back upon father and son, ‘Receive ber dying prayer, if you will, but assure her that twill not be a long repose. When the Messiah comes, Weenamoo will be among the first to kiss bis feet!” With difficulty Woodbridge stifled his anger, as his son bowed: low toward that slow)y-reced- ing figure. He knew that his was but a partial too, that it might even victory, but he knew defeat should he risk too now be turned into much, In grim silence be rode after Silverblade to where the horses of the party were staked out. In silence he watched Silverblade prepare bis animal for the road, This was not the spirit in which he bad hoped to return to the sick motber, Ser re it was better than not to return at a No further attempt was made to check or de~ Jay them, and the two horsemen were not long | in leaving the encampment behind them, - For some time they rode in silence, neither seeming in the mood for conversation, and the first word was uttered by Silverblade when, after riding a mile or two, the stockman turned aside from the course he bad been following. ‘* This brings the bad lands to our faces, The other trail is better for horses. Why desert ity? “It’s better for others, as well, boy, A psck of painted devils could cut across and liein wait for those who prefer smooth riding to rough.” “You mean—” hesitated the youth, trown- ogly. Bust that! I’ve pulled you out of yon devil’s jaws, and I don’t mean to let into them again, if prudence can help me out!” “Luke Woodbridge—” , “Have you forgotten how to say father so soon, David?” , Silverblade made no immediate reply. He bent his head rode on in silence for a few rods, He could feel that burning gaze upon his exposed cheek, but not until be bad conquered ook. 7. “Let it be ‘father,’ then—for the present,” he said, meeting thet half-angry, balf-reproach- ful gaze without flincbing in the least. ‘* Wby should I_ make matters worse by acting a lie, father? My belief has not changed since we talked together; or, if changed, it bas only. grown the stronger. I am right in casting aside all y ties, and when you have time to grow calm, when you have looked at both sides of the matter, you will be honest enough to con- fess as much, /“Then you relly set Se coming of an Indian jah, David?” ; i — — you fal)’ - himself, did he turn in answer to that steady .
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14 ‘* | believe in the Indian Messiab, as I believe in my life!” “* And you believe that his coming will be tho stmal for the death of all who boast of white birth?’ ‘I believe in that, as well, sir.” ‘*And you are ready to welcome that ad- vent?” ‘* If it brought me death eternal, still I would welcome his coming. for the sake of all down- trodden Indians, sir,’ ‘* Even if that coming dooms your father to death, among the rest?” “T have no father, save the Indian Messiah. And you, have you not had ample warning? There are other lands than this, the red-man’s bome, You can cross the ocean. and there you can live in peace and safety. There is room enough yonder for all of white birth, but here— this continent belongs to the Indian now, asit has since time began! And when our Messiah comes, only Indians will be permitted to draw breath within its limits.” ** You talk as though you really believed all this rot, David,” with a half-contemptuous echo in his tones. “*T not only believe, but I know it!” ‘* How do you know it, boy? ‘*By the words which the New Messiah has placed “‘intc the mouths of the chosen ones, I know it, just as surely as I would know, had I been one of the favored few to whom the Mes- siak has shown himself.” For some little time the both busy with thought, bridge spoke again? ** Of course, then, you believe that yon paint- bedaubed knave, whe did his evil best to pre- vent your responding to the death call of your mother, is one of those chosen few, David? You believe that your wondrous miracle-worker has picked him out as one of his precious mouth- pieces?’ There came no immediate reply. Silverblade hung his head, strong emotions doing battle in his brain, as his changing features plainly be- traved, That was a question which he expected, yet dreaded. He wished it migbt have been evaded, but since it had come, he would answer truth- fully, if at all. ‘You heard what I asked you, Davie?” softly added his father. ‘*T heard, yes,” at the same lifting his head and honestly encountering that keen gaze, though the troubled light deepened in his own eyes. sf gey you really belicve that, as well as the rest?” ‘I wish I could say yes, but that would not be wholly true, sir have tried hard to have perfect faith in the father, but—failei! Iknow the doctrine he preaches is pure and perfect, but —I can’t feel as sure of the mouthpiece!” ** Good!” leaning across and Ying Bors 5 gripping a ree band as they rode briskly along. ** That’s my Davie, honest and true!” **T believe in all the rest, though.” “Just now; but— Never mind,” checking himself as he felt danger ahead. ‘I'll explain just why you can’t fully trust that prophet, as he calls himself.” In rapid, earnest words, Luke Woodbridge told his son what had happened that day, between Enola, Johr Godfrey and himself, then added: ‘*When I got home, I called in the boys, and warned them against the dirty whelp. And one of them—Johnson, it was—told me some- thing which enabled me to give your medicine- man the thrust that touched him to the quick; you saw him flinch, Davie! ‘*Johnsor swore that, a few days ago, he caught pe J of John Godfrey, talking with a fellow whom he recognized as none other than the knave engaged in stirring up the Indians, hereabouts. And, more, he sworo that he was 2 white man!” * He surely must have been mistaken!” ‘* He vowed he was not, and you kuow how reliable Johnson has over proved himself, He swore that the fellow had short-cropped, light hair. That fits better with the greenish-gray eyes I saw under his painted brows, David!” * I can’t believe re repeated Silverblade, but adding quickly; ‘ But even so, one liar does not kil' the truth! He may be false, but the In- dian Messiat. is surely true! And i am his fol- ‘lower, not that of any mortal,” Witb those words, Silverblade spurred on, setting a. too rapid for conversation Luke Woodbridge was content that it should beso Apart from his natural anxiety toreach home, where bis wife was lying so ill, he knew he had given his wayward son food for sober rode on in silence, ut then Luke Wood- Silverblade, the Shoshone, thought, and it would do no hart to give time for it to fairly take root. For more tban an hour that silence was un- broken, partly because both father and son had food for reflection, but mainly because they had reached a tract of ground so rough and broken that riding side by side was hardly practicable, even if haste was not the most essential thing, just then. j There was no semblance of a trail, but they were perfectly familiar with the lay of the ground, and in order to skirt the head of a rocky gulch, rather than valley, Silverblade was veering sharply to the right hand, when both men abruptly drew rein. ‘* Listen!” muttered the young man, as both their heads bowed slightly, ‘‘ Surely that was a—panther, is it?” ** Lion,” nodded Woodbridge, but then adding as a far different sound came to their ears: ‘Man, too, by glory! In trouble, or bis voice tells lies!” Silverblade was already in motion, sending horse over the thick-lying rocks, heading direct for the gulch, for instinct told bim those y his Woodbridge hesitated an instant, for bis cares this stranger. But then he, as well, dashed ample set by his son when they came toa point one on horseback, earth and ran swiftly forward, in less than a look down into the gulch where a_ horrible cries came from that point. were more for the sufferer at home than with ahead at reckless speed, and he imitated the ex- where a footman could make better time than Silverblade, snatching the Winchester repeat- minute‘ coming to a spot from whence he could tragedy was just about opening. er from its slings at his saddle-bow, lea to Two men, strung side by side upon a pole, were suspended midway down a rocky wall. Directly in front of them, its head and{shoulders nearly filling an irregular hole in the rock, crouched a mountain lion, just giving vent to an angry howl, before making its death-leap! With lightning quickness, Silverblade leveled his rifle and fired, but as the report came, so came that death-leap, and the helpless men yell- ed aloud as the maddened beast struck them squarely! CHAPTER XV, FOR MORE THAN LIFE, THE doubly-laden pole was swung outward from the face of the rock by that shock, but the lion fell, writhing, kicking, twisting through the air until the broken rocks at the base of the wall ) received its carcass. One more bullet caught the squirming mass before it came to a pause, but the cartridge was wasted, The first shot had s true to its aim, and that leap bad ind been one of death. The poleswung back, bumping the knees of the helpless men against the narrow ledge in which showed the mouth of the den, One of them eried sharply for help, and Silverdlade as quick- ly answered back. “ Courage, Max! in a hurry, now!” “Thank Heaven! It’s yosees sncberiign, for ducats! exploded Big Horn Buck, recognizing the voice, though their backs were turned in that direction, rendering it impossible to sight the marksman, ‘* Never mind us! ’Nola—save her from— | devils!” hoarsel panted Donaldson, forgetting himself in solicitude for the one being dearest to his honest heart. “Sbut up! almost fiercely growled Horton, at that. * It'll help, not hinder, the time it takes to cut us down. Wo can tell—they only guess— see? Neither man was in fit condition to talk, just then. Both had felt tho claws of the death-smit- ten lion, though those scratches alone were of no serious moment, But those hours of suspension, after such a cruel fashion, had done at least a sharo of thoeyil intended by John Godfrey when his diabolical ingenuity devised that torment for his enemies. The instant he knew nothing further was to be feared from the mountain lion, Silverblade took in the details of the scene at one comprehensive glance; then, bidding Luke W ondiy ee keep ard and encourage the two luckless beings, he ashed off to bring up the horses, That was a much shorter task than ted, since he met tho faithful creatures following along the track of their masters, and snatching the at from each saddle-bow, Silverblade We'll have you out of that gave the horses an encouraging cry, then swiftly retraced his steps. ** Only a little longer, friends!” he shouted, as 2 oe ee SER ge Gr ce a a eee he scrambled down one side of the gulch, scale the other. “Cut the rope, and let us drop!” hoarsely cri the Border Beagle, his very tones betraying he unbearable their torture had grown, ‘** Better yet! One little minute more!” “ He’s right,” said Woodbridge, following ¢ ter hisson. ‘“It’d be clean death, or broké bones, to take such a drop, on the rocks. Bre up a bit longer, and we'll have you out of th safe and sound.” Tbe stockman was quick and active enoug but before he could gain the top of the wall ov which John Godfrey bad slung his captive Silverblade had begun the work of rescu guided by what that first glance had told him, He knotted one end of each lariat aroun the tensely drawn ropes supporting that heavy weight, midway between the edge of the cl nity the tree to which each rope bad been knol ted, He passed his lariats around another trunk close at hand, and had the slack closely taken u by the time Luke Woodbridge put in an appeaf ance. “Good bey, Davie!” the old man panted drawing a mighty breath as recompense for h eager battle with that stiff climb. ‘‘ An hour study couldn’t cipher it out clearer than that.” ‘Take this end, father,” retaining one of th ropes himself as he drew nearer the escarpment ‘Ready to cut the rope when I give the wor You understand it all, I see.” ‘““ Surely,” nodded the stockman, imitating hi example, “All ready, below!” called out Silverblade casting a keen look downward. ‘We'll keep you from falling hard, never fear!” ‘*Falling’d be a mercy!” hoarsely answered Big Horn Buck, but never a word came fron Cowboy Max. His head hung loosely on his shoulder, and hé looked more dead than alive. Liberty was hard- er to face than had been death! ‘‘Draw tight, hold firm, father!” muttere ipped the pliant braid-like hooks of steel, e Ready? Then—cut |” The two blades made a simultaneous sweep across the tensely drawn lariats, and as the ropes parted with a vicious twang, tho shock came heavily upon both father and son as the weight was transferred to their riatas instead, But they proved equal to the occasion, and moving foot by foot away from the escarpment, toward the tree about which their ropes were turned, they steadily lowered the laden pole, giving a cry of relief as they felt it touch the rocks at the bottom of the gulch, ‘‘Drop the ropes, father, then come—careful- ly, for mother’s sake!” Silverblade darted away to the nearest point where a descent could be made without an al- most certain fall, swiftly swinging or leaping from rock to rock, thinking far more of the sut- ferers than of his own safety, It was a reckless display of nerve and agility, but be reached the bottom of the gulch in safety, and in ten seconds more, his keen knife bad cut the two men free from the pole, casting it aside, then gently straightening out their terribly cramped limbs, *1t’s Heaven—after hell!” gasped Big Horn Buck, in barely recognizable tones; but never a sound came from the swollen lips of Cowboy ax, That frightful ordeal bad been too much for his powers, suffering as he did, a mental torture that discounted his bodily agony. “Go fetch —whisky— pocket!” panted Luke Woodbridge, as he came up; and readily divin- ing what he meant, Silverblade burried away to where their faithful horses were Ing, near the top of the other ridge. ‘ The double trip occupied but a few minutes, yet that was long enough for the tough detective to rally in a measure, and be was just denounc- ing John Godfrey to the stockman 8s Silver- blade came back with a flask of whisky. And Cowboy Max, too, was beginning to rally, though as yet his meaning could only be guessed at, He forth the name of the muiden, and a word or two about the need of great haste; but it fell to the lot of Big Horn Buck to tell the repulsive truth, uke Woodbridge turned pale as ® Corpse as he listened, and there was a fierce glitter in his eyes as they turned toward bis sop. ‘You hear, David? This devil is a friend to your devil re: a ae This is a mate to your cursed medicine-mao * Prove that, and I'll bring you the bloody scalps of both!’ sternly answered the youth, turning away, as he added: Silverblade, taking a turn of the lasso about bis waist, then around his arm, while his fingers
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gulch sely cri ying he Silverblade, the Shoshone, ‘15 ** You talk: Pil act!” “Stop him, Woodbridge!” sharply said the detective, struggling to bis feet. ‘I counted seven in the gang, and there may be still more. No one boye n fight the gang, but—with us, Silverblade!” : “All together,, Davie!” cried out the stock- man. ‘Bring the horses Over, and catch me up!” came back the answer from midway the roc wall. “]°]] take the trail, and see whither it leads,” _A swallow or two of whisky, with brisk rub- bing along his cramped limbs, had already wrought wonders in the case of Cowboy Max; and leaving Big Horn Buck, who was in far better case, thanks to his marvelous powers of / body and mind, to assist Donaldsun along the gulch toward its head, where he meant to cross with the horses, Luke Woodbridge hurriedly moved away on that mission, Wheu the point of crossing ‘was gained by both parties, Woodbridge insisted on the rescued men mounting, and rather than cause delay by disputing his wish, they complied. nce On comparatively level ground, they pressed ahead as fast as the tough stockman could run, along the broad trail_left by Jobn Godfrey and bis knavish outfit. But rapidly as they progressed, they would never have over- taken Silverblade, had he not paused for their gonitag, & mile or more away from the lion’s ev, “It is true, father,” was his grave salutation as they came up. ‘Phe trail heads for the home of Weenamoo.’ “The devils! If we get there too late, Pl—” ‘*Don’t borrow trouble, man,” interrupted Hortov, ‘ They'll never dare an open dash, but will lie in wait until dark comes to cover ’em. {f we don’t run into an ambuscade by the way, wapect there in good time, never you fear!” This sounded reasonable, since none of those present knew what word had set John Godfrey off in such hot haste; and though the setting of the sun was near at hand, they surely ought to cover that distance before the enemy would deem it safe or wise to begin their evil work. As they pressed on, father and son afoot, but keeping the borses at as rapid a gait as the vature of the ground would permit, Bix Horn Buck told the story more in detail, and explain- ed how they had, after bours of labor, gotten rid of their gags, thus holding the angry lion at bay with their cries and shouts, Tnen— Too late!” almost shrieked T.uke Wood- bridge, as the distant echo of firearms came to their anxious ears, ae _ CHAPTER XVI, ° CAUGHT IN HIS OWN TRAP, ‘Tat intervening mile was covered in a wild, breakneck dash, but Silverblade was first to come upon the enemy, and his was the first shot that told the outlying devils their game was up—his the voice that sent forth the blood- curdling war-cry of the lonz-peaceful Shoshones —and his-the Jungs that gave vent to an en- couraging shont to the brave defender of that closed rauch, ag a bright flash came from one vf the loopholes, Shouting, on fire with hot rage and thirst for vengeance, Luke Woodbridge, Big Horn Buck and Cow X came dashing up at top speed; out they Were too late for more than to make that flight complete, The enemy had not wait- ed for more than one shot, one fierce yell from the rear, already Qiscouraged by their hot re- ception in front, “;")) | : he stockman and Horton pressed the chase, “wasting mere than one round of cartridges at real or imag!ary Shadows—too dimly seen to be called shapes—but Cowboy Max, forgettin all else in his anxiety for the safety of his lov me oem oa ee y- Pies is his voice W ized, Enola flung open the door, and with & Sobbing’ ery of intenie ye. lief, Jove and joy; sunk into s ready arms. y of further chase, » back, ‘hen they realized the f ‘as she saw it, nay have its full dues!” ne that important capture was bad given them the day before. Still, he could not even listen to their explanations without risking a fiery explosion, And it was too late for that, now! Lab agg ieopeay hastened over to the now open ranch, but Big Horn Buck, in company with the cowboys, made a search of the grounds, which resulted in finding one dying wretch: stricken down by the shot first fired by Silver- blade, the Shoshone! Dirty Dick had played his last card in the game of crime, and he had barely life enough left him to make full confession: to denounce John Godfrey as head and front of tbe evil plot: to give the names of each of his comrades: and then his life went out, No other bodies than his were found in that search, and it was withadark and gloomy brow that Big Horn Buck entered the house, where father, mother and daughter, were gathered to- gether in the sick-room, “The head devil of all has escaped, Wood- bridge,” he said, bluntly, though his vice low- ered as he recognized the presence of sickness. ‘* If Silverblade don’t—” ‘* Silverblade! My young chief! Weenamoo is waiting!” gasped the sick woman, rising up in bed, her trembling arms reaching out as though to clasp her boy-brave to her bosom, ‘*Come,” whispered Little Sure Shot, gliding to the detective’s side, a hand closing upon bis arm and gently forcing him toward the door of the room. ‘* We will look for my brother’s com- ing, sir!” ut instead of going to the front door, where Cowboy Max stood on guard, Enola led Horton back to the kitchen, pausing just inside the door in such a manner as to check his entrance, while she quickly said: ‘*] am right—you are a detective, sir?” ‘Yes. Why do’you ask, in such a tone?” “And you are looking for John Godfrey, to arrest him?” ‘Tf he’s the man I think, yes, again. You surely don’t—” ‘Tf I give him into your hands, you swear to rae his life, even against father, and against avie?” persisted Enola, eagerly watching each change in his face, ‘* Pll protect his life with my own, if it comes to that!” was bis eager reply. ‘ Where is he, girl? How did you—” Enola stepped aside, and motioned him to en- ter. She struck a light, and by its glow pointed out a bound form lying half-bidden in one cor- ner of the room, Big Horn, Buck caught up the candle, and held it close to the gagged face of the prostrate man, giving vent toa low, joyous growl as he recognized John Godfrey ! R Little Sure Shot tersely told how she had caught the villain, who bad secured an entrance shortly after dark, by reaching the second story by way of the kitchen roof, where he had prepared for just such an emergency by making sure his chamber window could be opened. ‘‘T heard a sound, and caught a glimpse of a dark shape crossing over to the front door,” Enola explained. ‘‘I struck him down with a club,” with a motion of her head toward the kitchen table, where lay an Indian war-club, ‘*T bound him, as you see. Then—TI fired at the first skulking figure I saw creeping toward the house, out yonder!” She said no more just then, for Big Horn Buck caught her in his powerful arms, lifting her clear of the floor in a bear-like embrace, And Cowboy | saw him fairly smothering the little maiden with kisses, as he came to the door. “It’s all right, pardner,” chuckled Big Horn Buck, as he caught that ejaculation, ‘I’m just paying a debt of gratitude, and if you'll help me keep the wind off this rascal here, you can take ’em every one back from where I planted ’em! Can’t he, Little Sure Shot?” “You will help, Max? murmured Enola, blushing rosy red, but bravely doing her duty, “Don’t let father or Davie— They'll kill him, if you don’t prevent!” _ “Grab hold, Max! Let us out the back way, sweetness, and I reckon we'll fix it so justice d Big Horn Buck was right. The secret of kept until the next morning, and by that time passions had coolec sufficiently for calm reasoning, of the matter right here, John Godfrey, as he has figured in this episode, was taken to meet his fate for deeds wrought under another name, tthe before the secret was disclosed, however, Silverblade came the yearning arms of Weenamwoo were filled with her darling boy he penalty of that | Draven. 1 ' If other lives had paid t And, to dapeae night’s work, the lips of David Woodbridge never disclosed the facts, Before another sun set, David Woodbridge was goue! ‘“The New Messiah called him,” calmly said Weenamoo, to her deeply grieved husband, ‘* Weenamoo bade him go, to his duty. That is enough. It should be so, and so it is, The grandson of He-That-Fights-Long, must not be the last to greet the Indian Messiah!” The days that followed were full of stirring events, But it is enough for the present to say that Silverblade, the Shoshone, sought for the Indian Messiah, with heart full of trust, of porfect faith, in no wise lessened by the ex- posure of one lying ‘‘mouth-piece.” For it is true that the false prophet took to fight, and was seen no more in that section, Enough that Luke Woodbridge was so crushed in spirit by the loss of his son, that be could summon up noanger when Cowboy Max bravely told his love, and begged for the band of Little Sure Shot io marriage. “Wait, Max,” the stockman said, gloomily. ‘* This is no time to talk of marriage, or giving in marriage. Wait—until my poor boy comes home, living—or dead!” , THE END. Beatle’s Half-Dime Library. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Yellowstone Jack; or, The Trapper. AS Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat, 65 Hurricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard, 119 Mustang Sam ; or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-tlawk Kits or, The Daughter of the Ranch, 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Reseue. 160 The Black Glant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy, 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. 184 The Boy Trailers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path, 208 The Boy Parda; or, Dainty Lance Unmaske. 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. 810 The Barranca Wolf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ League, 885 Old Double Fiat; or, The Strange Guide ‘ 855 The King of the Woods: or. Daniel Boone’s Last Trail, 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. Vi 625 Chincapin Dan, the Boy Trailer, 677 Chineapin Dan’s Second Trail. 688 Chincapin Dan’s Home Stretch. 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head, 708 Light-Heart Lute’s Legacy. BY GEORGE C. SENKS. 485 Git Thar Owney the Unknown. 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. 518 The Demon Docter. 581 Double-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective. 98 Flute, the Singer Detective, 608 The Pitcher Detective’s Fotl; or, Dan’s Double Play. 616 The Ocean Detectives or. The Last Cruise of the Black Bear, 681 The Pitcher Detective’s Toughest Tussel. MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORS. 4 The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Frederick Whittaker. - ’ 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen, 12 Gulliver’s Trave By Dean Swift. 4 db onderfulLamp. — | (27 Illustrations, ‘ 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. 22 The Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. By Juan i wis, 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribees, By 8S, W. Pierce. egy 86 The Boy Glown; or, The Arena Queen. By F 5S, Finn. 84 Ned Wylde, the Boy Scont. By Texas Jack. &1 The Boy Rites; or, The Underground Camp. By A: C. Irons. 95 The Rival Revers; or, The Freebooters of the Mississippi, © By Lieut.-Col, Hazeltine. ; 98 Robin Hood, the Outlawed Ear); or, The Merry Men of Green- wood, By Prof. Gildersleeve. 105 Old Rube the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain Hamilton Holmes. : 112 The Mad Hunter}; or, The Cave of Death. By Burton Saxe. — 124 Tippy, the Texan} or, The Young Champion. By George erson. (4 128 The Veune Privateer; or, The Pirate's Strongheld, By Harry Cavendish, : ; 148 Sharp Sam} or, The Adventures of a Friendless Boy. By J. Al der Patten. f @27 Dusky Darrell, Trapper: or, The Green Ranger of the Yal- Edward erson. vi , 4 eee Feornanghs the Nee? wi Bel: Bye tae 261 « Fearnau e New Yor ay ae 3 266 kill ar, the Guide», Davy Crocketi’a Crooked ‘Trall. s ' od Tra ign C. : A 298 Rea Claw the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid of the Clif. ; By Captain Comatoc 81T Peacock P ne. 828 The Sky. meee ow 850 Red Ralph, the River Rover} or, The ‘Brother's Ree } - Buntline, t hari ho B65 Baitimers Ren the Boothlack Detective. By 876 Caillfornia 418 Billy Rombshell, the Clit Climber. By F:S. Winthrop, e e - . +S. Win le Rha c é€ Black Ship. By John 8 Warner. Wy : yy Jobn & By Edwin Brooke Forrest. y David Drold._ iv his -~ te, the Lively Lad trom Leadville, By Liew — A, P. Morris, — it Tom} or, Ben’s Double Match, By @ Hi, More, Joe’s First Trail. By Colonel Thomas k and His ‘Three Invinetbles, By ie) ; .
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BEADLE'’S«H ALF- DIME« LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. BY EPWARD L. WHEELER, Deadwood Dick Novels, 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Deadwoed Dick’s Defiance; or, Vouble Daggers. r+ ag A hee! oe - er Buffal, den 5 Deadwoo ck in « Castle. 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; or, The «antom Miner. 49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; or, Omaha Oil. 5T Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 28 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or. Calamity 4 \ne, the Heroine, 136 aa bor Bel Reet nee er, Corduroy Charlie. 0 eadwoo ek in Leadville. 104 Some ees a. et A bee The Double Cross Sign. 109 Deadwood Dick aa Detective. 129 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 Deadwoed 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. 205 Peat wend pers emt or, Senay aes Adventure. 7 Deadwood Dick’s Dead Deal. Deadwood Dick’s Death-Plant. Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Toughs, poeawecs pace,e pity ie al hg Spirit of Swamp Lake. eadwo ck’s Death Tra Deadwood Dick’s Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats Deadwood Dick’s Ducata; or, Days in the Diggings. poedwons ae Tg a gg or, The Terrible Vendetta. Jeadwoo ck’s Claim. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds. Deadwood Dick In New Yorks or, A “ Cute Case,” monaweed pee Dusts or, The Chained Hand. ead woo ek, Jr. Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Deadwood 9 465 Deadwood 471 Deadwood 476 Deadwood 4851 Deadwood 49L Deadwood 496 Deadwood | 600 Deadwood Deadwood > Deadwood Protegee. Deadwood | 7s, Three. Deudwood Dick, Jdr.’s, Danger Ducka. et tat pick» Er yeesh Hunt. ecadwoo ck, drs, in Texas. 5644 Deadwood Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidoeg 549 Deadwood Dick, Jr., on Mia Mettle. Bo4 hae babes | mates gr = bbe egy eadwoo ck, dr., In Boston, ony alae | Bike oes oe Shiladetphia, eadwoo ek, dr., in Chicago, Deadwood Dick. Jr., Afloat. Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver, Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Decree. 695 Deadwood ‘, dr., in Beelzebub’s Basin. 600 Deadwood Jr., at Coney Island, 606 Deadwood Jdr.’s, Leadville Lay. 612 Deadwood Jr., in Detroit. 618 Deadwood dr., in Cincinnati. 624 Deadwood Jdr., in Nevada. 680 Deadwood dr., in No Man’s Land, 686 Deadwood dr., After the Queer. 642 Deadwood dr., in Buffalo. 645 Deadwood Ja, Chase Across the Continent 654 Deadwood .» Among the Smugglers, Deadwood Dick, 5 Saag Inaurance Case. Deadwood Dick, Jr., Back in the Mines. Deadweod Dick, Jr., (a Durango; or, “ Gathered In.” peadweed oa ag bag |e oad or, Found « Fertune. eadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Dazzle. 690 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Dollars. ba pecawees yy Eh? a Sengee Divide. » ecadwoed ek, Jr.’s, Drop. 704 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Jack-Pot. Deadwood Dick, Jr., in San Franeclsee. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Still Hunt. Deadweed Dick, Jr.’s, Dominoes. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler, Cloven Hoef, the Buffalo Demon, Bob Woelf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot. Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York. Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, Jim Bludsee, Jr., the Boy Phenix. Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team. 69 Gold Rifle, the Sharpsheoter; or, The Boy Detective, 80 Rosebud Hob r, Nugget Ned, the Knight. $4 Idyl, the Girl Miner}; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Phectograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob's Reappearanes, 92 Canada Chet ; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 96 Watch-Eye; or, Araba nnd Angels of a Great City, 118 Jack Moyle the Young Sveculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Bonanza Lill, Miner. 188 Boss Bob the King of Boothlacka, 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 Scampe. 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventril 226 Snoozer, the Boy Sharp: or, The Arab 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young G)adiator. 244 Sierra Sam, the Frontier Ferret. 248 Sierra Sam’s Seeret; or, The Bloody Footprints. 258 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Ange! of Big Vista. 258 Sierra Sam’a Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 278 Jumbo J the Boy Patrol: or, The Rival Heirs. 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 281 Denver Doll’« Victory. 26 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or, Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or. The Road Queen. 9 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. Defiance. Full Hand. Big Round-Up. Racket at Claim 10, Corral; or, Bozeman Bill. Dog Detective, dr., in Deadwood. Jr.’s, Compact. Inheritance, gings. Deliverance, nist Hunter, etective, nhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood, 858 Firat-Clasa Fred, he Gent trom Gopher. | B68 Vrekn Jim. the Gold-Gatherer; or, The Life Lottery. 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. 78 Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City. 2 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, B85 Yreka Jim's Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nose, a4 Prorele Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, reka Jim Yuba Dam. rimkles, the Night-Watch Detective. J Sai Sealskin mplete and Sc ld at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, ? The Flying Yankee}; or, The Ocean Outcast, ‘ @ Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccaneer; or, The Fugitive Yacht, 4 Diamond of the Yellowstone. > The Boy DPnelist; or, The Cr Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Smuggier. The Seu-Devil; or, The Midshipman’s Legacy, The Hussar Captain ; or, ‘he Hermit of Hell Gate, 97 Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. 4 Gold Plume; or, Buffalo Bill, the Pony Express Rider. 216 Bison BAll, the Priuce of the Reins; or, Buffalo Bill’s Pluck, 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer, 229 Crimson Kate; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy ¢ or, Thé Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman Mutineer 3; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer, 264 The Floating F eather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure. 26” The Gold Ship; yr, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s Cruise; or, “ The Gold Ship” Chase. 250 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 Rover; or, The Flegiess Schooner. 888 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island. 8ST Warpath WILL, the Boy Phantom. $98 Seawalf, the Boy Lieutenang. 402 Iaodor, the Young Con«pirator; or, The Fatal League, 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. 412 The Wild Vachtamans; or, The War-Cloua’s Cruise. 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 485 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, Tie Corsair. 487 The Sea KRalder. 441 The Ocean Firefly ; or, A Middy’s Vengeance. 446 Haphazard Harry; or, Tne Scapegracg of the Sea. 450 Wizard WII: or, Tie Boy Ferre: of New York. 454 Wizard WIIIl’* Street Scouta. 462 The Born Gulde; or, The Saiior Boy Wanderer, 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster, 474 Flora; or, Wizard Will's Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Will’s Last Case. 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger. 495 Arizona Joe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack. 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ; or, The Shark and the Sea Ca 507 The Hunted Midshipman, 511 The Outlawed Middy. 520 Buckskin BIL, the Comanche Shadow. 625 Brothers in Buckskin. 5830 The Buckskin Bowers, 585 The Bue skin Rovers. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder ot the Rio, 5645 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Luafitte’s Legacy: or. The Avenging Son. 5655 The Creole Corsair. Pawnee Bi'l, the Prairie Shadower. & Kent Kingdon, the Card King. Camille, the Card Queen, The Surgeon-Scout Detective, The Outenst Cadet; or, The False Detective, The Buckekin Avenger. Delmonte, the Young Sea Rover. The Young Texan Detective. The Vagabond of the Mines. The Rover _ Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions. 7 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scouts; or, The Rio Raiders. The Hereules Highway mun. Butterfly Billy, the Pony Rider Detective; or, Buffalo Bili’s Boy Para. Batterfly Biliy’s Man Hunt. Butterfly Billy’s Bonanza. he Buccaneer Midshipman. The Wizard Sailor; or, Red Ralph, the Rover. The Sen Shadowert or, The Freebroter’s Legacy. Orlando, the Ocean Free Flag; or, The Tarnished Name. The Rival Sharps; or, Redfern, the Serret Service Seout. 697 The Scarlet Sombrero; or, The Sharp from Texas. 702 Blue Jacket Bill; or, Tne Red Hat Rangers’ Red Hot Racket 707 The Red Sombrero Rangers; or, Redfern’s Last Trail BY BUFFAL®O BILL (Hon. Wm. F. Cody) 8 Kansas King; or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spr or, The Pilot of the Prairie. 55 Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Sec ut, Border Robin Hoody or, The Prairie Rover. 188 Faacy Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’s Trost, BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 WII! Somers, the Bov Detechve. 122 Phil Wardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Pete { or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective, 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 Will Wildfire, the Thoronghbred. 152 Black Keaa, Will Wildfire’s Racer. Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. Will Wildfire in the Woods. Se Lededadedaad eoUen 5 6 6 z z z 188 The Hidden Hand; or, Wii! Wildfire’s Revenge, 187 Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers, 189 Rob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. 196 Shadowed ; or, Bob Kockett’s Fight for Life, 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Netective. 220 Tom Tanner; or, The Biack Sheep of the Flock, 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenan:oah Bill and His Gang. 252 Dick Dashaway; or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago. 262 The Young Sharps; er, Ro!licking Mike’s Hot Trail. 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice, 289 Jolly Jim’s Job; or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughored. 805 Dashaway, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in Quaker City. 824 Ralph Ready, the Hote} Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. B58 The Reporter-Detectives or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard. BET Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times, 879 Larry, the Leveler; or. The Bloods of the Boulevard, 468 Firefly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. 428 The Loat Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier, 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Bill Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. 479 Detective 3 or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. outs thee Theos rir Too Sharp for the Sharper, y reman : or, Too Sharp for the The Seeret Service Boy Detective. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lam’ Among Wolves. 627 Tom Bruce of Arkananat or, The Wolfin the Fold, 655 Pineky Paul, the Koy Speculator. 667 Bob and Sam, the Daisy Detectives. 709 The Curbstone Detectives or, Harry Hale’s Big Beat. BY J. 0. COWDRIOK, 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. 869 Shasta, the Gold King} or, For Seven Years Dead. 420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a Na 424 Cibuta John; or, Ked-Hot Times at Ante Bar. 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo, ~ 506 pedtight Ralph the Prince of the Road, 514 Broadway Billy’ Boodle. 524 The Engineer Detective. 586 Broadway Billy’s ‘ Difiikilty.” 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective. 557 Fics py Billy’s Peath Racket. 671 Air-Line Luke the Young Engineet. 579 The Chimney Spy; or, Boadway Billy’s Surprise-Par 592 The Boy Pinkerton. 605 William 0’ Broadway; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inniy 615 Fighting Harry the Chief of Chained Cyclone. 628 Broadway Billy’ Dead Act. 640 Barebrek Beth, the Centaur of the Circle. 647 Typevtiter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgan, the *‘ Pizenest ’? Man of Ante Bas, 669 Broadway Billy Abroad. | 675 Broadway Billy’s Best; or, Beating San Francisco's Fine 687 Broadway Billy In Clover. 696 Broadway Billy In Texas. 708 Broadway Billy's Brand, Z1il Broadway Billy at Santa Fe. BY T. C. HARBAUGH. Nick o’ the Night}; or, The Boy Spy of 776. The Hidden Lodge} or The Littl Hunter. Nightingale Nat 3 «1, ‘Ine Forest Captains, Dandy Jack; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trait. Kit Waretoot the Wood-Huwk. 4 Midnight Jack ¢ or, The Boy Trapper. Old Froaty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 8 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 9 Judge Lynch, Jr. or, The Boy Vigilante, 55 Gold Trigger, the Spert; er, 7 he Girl Avenger, 169 Tornado Tom} or, Injun Jack From Red Core, 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkansaw ; or, The Queen of Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullets or, Little Tovknot’s Crusade. 251 Plueky Phil}; or. Rosa, the Re! Jezebe!, 241 Bill Bravo; or, Tire Roughs of the Rockies. 255 Captain Apoll. » tne King-Pin of Bowie, The Buckskin Detective. Old Winehs or, The Buckskin Desperadoes, Dynamite Dan; or, The Bowie Blonde of Gochetopa. The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bully. Old Eclipse, Tromp Curd of Arizona, The Ten Parday; or. The Terror of Take-Notice. Bie Benson; or, The Queen of the La so. Pitiless Matt or, Ked Thunderholt’s Secret. § Cool bamarne Par ¢ 0° The Terrible Six. Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 8BR6 Captain Cutlasey or, he B cconneer’s Girl Foe, 896 Rough Roby; or. The | win Champions of Blue Blares. 411 The Silken Lasso: or, The Rose of Ranch Robin, 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spretter. 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. y 445 The City Vamrires; or, led Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty; or! he Last Man of Keno Bar, 470 The Roy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. A?7 The Exceisior Sport: or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport, 502 Branded Ren, the Nicht ferret. 512 Podger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. 521 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge. 528 Fox and Faicon, the Bowery Shadows. 5BS Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. BAS Dodger Dick's Double: or, The Rival Bey Detectives. 558 Dodeer Dick's Desperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick. the Boy Vidocq, 578 The Two Shadows. 582 Dodger Dick’s Prop. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sharp on Guard. 626 The Champion Pardes. 687 Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. 645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp. 658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beacle. * 671 Jersey Jed, the Koy Hnastler: or. Shadowing the Shadower 685 Happy Hneb, the Bor Moa'cinn Detective. 701 Photograph Fredy the Camera Sharp. LATEST AND NFW ISSUES. 718 Carl. the Mad Cowboy; or, The Lariat Qaren. By © Prentiss Ingraham. 714 Old Misery, the Mav from Missouri; or, The Mystery of t Mountain League. By Wm. G. Patten. 715 Wide Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret; et, Onging t Cormorants. By T, C, Harbaugh. T16 Dendwood Dick, Jr.'s, Still Hunts er, The Seco Round in San Francisco, By Edward L. Wheeler, T17 Mosauito Jack, the Hustler Gamin; or, Move-wn Miki Grand Catch, By Jo Merce. 718 Lieht-Heart Lute’« Fast Trails or, The Geld Crater Secret. Hy Inseph E. Badger, Jr. 719 Pawnee BilV« Pledge; or, The Cowboy Kidnapper. | Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 720 Frosdway Tilby’s Foll Wand: or, The Gamin Dete tive’s Double Snap at Santa Fe. By '. C, Cowidrick. 721 Maverick Moses the Arizona Detective; or, The Wizard Urkos Pass, By Will Lisenbee, 722 Deadwood Dick, Ir.’«, Pominocs: or, The Rival Cam of the Northern Border, By Edward L. Wheeler. : 728 Silverbiade, the Shoshone; or, The Border Beagle Secret Miasion. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 724 Violet Vane’a Vengeance; or, The Wipe-Out at Whi Watir. By William G. Patten. 725 Daring Dick, Pawnee Bill's Pard; or, The Red Cavalr Raid, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 726 Dennia Duff, the Brown Sport's Kid; or, The Covers an Blinds of Gotham, By Jo Pieree, Ready June 23, %27 Headlight Narry’s Siren; o% Mad Madge, the Sutin, Queen. Ry Col. A. F. Holt. Ready June 30, T28B Peadwood Dick, Jr.’ Disguise: or, Ivan, the Man Iron, Ry Fdward L. Wheeler. Ready July 1. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half- Dime Library \s for sale by all newsdealers, flv cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAME, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York POnrnics Swot eaernw a )