Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 735) (1891 08 25)
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= a = Lin Ga Ys , a a ately I} AS MAB ‘DMA QOD AN x WHY Sy s y —ien -i [pet Ue | Ome ims Copyright 1891, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, OM u Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post Office, a ; N 735 $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS. Price, O. - a Year. No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK, 5 Cents. = ———— TE ET —_——— nae oe R2* Waking Up Wind Canyon Camp, se AUTHOR OF ‘‘ BROADWAY BILLY ” NOVELS, ETO, —_ | BY J. C. COWDRICK, CHAPTER I, ROGER, THE ROVER. ‘¢SwEeET pertaters! I’m afraid the poor little snoozer is going to croak, and that’s a fact, Poor Skinny!” Away off in the rugged, ragged wilderness of the Rocky Mountains, the morning sun about an hour high, Broadway Billy stood with tear- dimmed eyes, looking down upon the wasted form of his lean lieutenant. __ F ‘*BILLY WAS UPON HIS FEET IN AN INSTANT, REVOLVER IN HAND, AS IF TO GUARD It was now several weeks since their setting HIS SUFFERING PABD, out from Santa Fe, aud they had been roughing |
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2 it in the roughest sense of the term. Many and thrilling had been their adventures by the way, but they had pushed nobly on in the direction of Denver, and bad covered full two-thirds of the distance. But, about a week previous to the opening of our story, Skinny had been taken down sudden- ly with the mountain fever. Alone together, miles upon miles from any camp, so far as they knew, they were in a bad situation. And as Skinny grew rapidly worse, the dilemma was a trying one to Billy. And now, on this brigbt morning, it looked as though Skinny would not live to see the sun go down. Thin before, he was now nothing but skin and bones, and was almost too weak to move. He was delirious, too, and continually talking in a disconnected manner. ‘‘ Poor Skinny!” Billy repeated. ‘‘ I only wish I had him safe home in New York. It will be awful to go home without him, leaving him buried here in an unknown place, and it will jest about kill his mother. Poor Skinny! I shall feel like a murderer, almost, for it was my fault that he came along with me, And yet I couldn’t leave him behind; I love the little beg- ar,’ 5‘ It was a hard name for the faithful thin part- ner, but it was given in a tone of affection, and as the Broadway ex-gamin spoke the honest con- fession of his heart, two great tears welled from his eyes and ran down his cheeks, while his lips trembled and the “lump” rose in his throat, Skinny was talking right ahead all the while, sometimes so as to be understood, at other times not. ‘A good ways—good ways,” he now mut- tered. ‘‘I’d go home, only for Billy; I can’t leave Billy nohow. But I wish he knowed how I feel about it. Yes; you bet it’s hot, sard, Hope we'll come to water before night. teckon we'll have to go to bed hungry, Billy,” And so he went, from one thought to an- other; now of his secret purposes and wisbes, and again of something from their past expe- rience. ‘* And I did know you was gettin’ homesick, Skinny, you poor little rat,” said Billy to him- self, ‘and I’d ought to be whaled half to death for not striking out for home with you before it came to this, We had no business ter under- take any such desperate trip as this one, Vm responsible for it all, Skinny, and if you die it will almost kill me.” ‘“*Awful—awful hot,” muttered Skinny. ‘“‘Never had such weather as this in New York, Billy. If we did, we could rely on Tony’s lemonade, I'd give twenty dollars for a glass of it this minute. Billy, I want ter go home—I can’t hold it in no longer. Wm jest dyin’ with homesick, an’ that’s the fact. Oh, ou can laugh if you want to, but it’s no laugh- in’ matter with me. Wish you’d fet up about my bein’ thin; that’s got to be a chestnut.” “TI s’pose he’s thinkin’ about what I said to bim a week or more ago, when we was swim- min’ that big river,” mused Billy. ‘‘ That?s the answer he made then, anyhow. I told him if I was as thin and light as he was, ’d walk across on the water, and so keep my feet dry. Poor little weasel! he was never as thin as he is now, and it would scare him into fits to look at himself in a glass, if he was in his right mind. And he wants to go home—poor pard! I’m afraid that’s where he is goin’ now, about as fast as ke can—goin’ to his everlastin’ home!” Of a sudden that “lump” in Billy’s throat seemed to burst, and with a loud sob he sunk down upon the ground by the side of his faithful partner, weeping like a child. It was some minutes before he recovered him- self, Skinny had been quiet for a minute or two, anc now suddenly he asked; ‘ Billy, won’t you give mea drink? I’m hon- estly too tired to get down and get it. I’m played clean out this time, sure,” At first Billy bad looked up quickly, in the belief that Skimny was in bis right mind, but the words that followed, as well as the deathly look in his eyes, went to prove otherwise, ‘Give you a drink!” Billy cried, ‘ Bless oe heart, I’'d give youanything. I only wish could give you something to make you well. I suppose you are burnin’ up, inside and out. Here, take this, Skinny.” As he spoke, he pressed some water to the sick lad’s lips, and some of it was eagerly taken. ** Yes; I only wish I could give him somethin’ that would make him well,” Billy mused, “ but I’m afraid it is past that now. He isa hea worse than he was yesterday, and I thought he would die then, TI don’t believe he is going to live till noon, and I can’t shut my eyes to it.” f rE Broadway Billy’s Business. ae was indeed a trying time for Broadway ily. Hope seemed useless, and he was trying to bring himself to stand the shock when the end came, ‘Poor little partner!” he said to himself, “how lonesome I shall be without you! And how awful it will be to bury you and leave you here all alone! And how in all creation am I going to mark the spot so as to find it again? 11 put up marks, in sight of each other, all the way to the nearest camp, if it takes me six months to do it! Your grave sha’n’t be lost, little pard, But, can’t somethin’ be done? I wish the dear Lord would send somes Good Samaritan this way now.” *€ And I opine he has, stranger!” & Billy was upon his feet, in an instant, revolver in hand, as if to guard his suffering pard. He had heard no sound, and this voice, so close behind him, bad given hima start. But, at sight of the personage, he was reassured. It was a man past middle age, wearing a tangle of gray hair and beard and clad in the rough dress of a mountain ranger. He hada kindly face, and was leaning on his rifle, ‘That was quick done, youngster,” he imme- diately added, ‘‘ but, thar’s no need ter draw weepin’s onto me, J’m harmless.” Billy had already put the revolver away, ** Who are you?” he asked. ‘* Men call me Roger the Rover,” was the an- swer. ‘* Well, Roger the Rover, it does my heart good to see you, no matter whoor what you are. You are a man, and one of our own kind. Can you do anything for my poor little sufferin’ pard here? “Tt are dubious, my son, it are dubious in- deed,” the old ranger replied, witha shake of his head. ‘* He looks so mighty wasted that I don’t opine thar is much to build ou. Neverseen a chit s> thin in my life, and yet have lifein him, How long since he was tooken?” ‘You don’t want to count too much on his thinness,” answered Billy. ‘‘He wasn’t much fatter when he wasin the best of health, He was thin, awful thin, but now he is about at the last stage of thinness, unless he sheds his skin, Don’t think I am trying to be funny, for the Lord knows I don’t feel funny—not a bit. He was, really, the thinnest boy youever saw. But he is near his end, I am afraid, as maybe you heard me saying to myself, Oh, what can I do fer him?’ ‘* Well, if that is the case, maybe thar is a ray of hope, We'llsee, We will do suthin’ for him, anyhow, and if it don’t do good it can’t do harm, that issartain. How long did you say it was— “It’s just about a week since we stopped here. He felt bad, and pretty bad too, when he was ready to give up; at we thought we'd stop for a day in this place, as it was a good one for water, grass and so on; and— Well, we have kept on staying, and it looks as if Skinny would stay for good.” ‘What aro that you call him?” ‘¢ Skinny.” “Ther name fits him now, that are sartain,” The old ranger laid down his rifle, and kneel- ing beside Skinny, examined him critically, “Ver hasn’t felt no sym’tums of rhis heur yerself, has yer?’ he inquired, as he turned his head toward Billy. “No; I’m all right,” Billy assured, “T guess it’s ther genooine mountain. Now, you let me meander around a bit, till I finda sartain yarb that I knows of, and we'll try what vartue thar is in that. As I have’ said, it may do some good.” ‘* Then for goodness’ sake find it!” urged Billy. “Tf you can bring him out of this, old man, I'll be ready to die for you, if need be, and I mean it, too.” ‘ “Pm goin’ right after it. And if you want, [ll stop with you a day or so and see how it works. We’ll do our talkin’ later.” With a wave of the hand, then, that debarred Billy from saying anything more, the old fellow was quickly lost to sight. ““Thank the Lord for this man’s coming, any- how!” muttered Billy. ‘‘I feel now that there is just the faintest spark of hope left for poor Skinny, and I hope it will kindle to a rousing big blaze.” e knelt again beside his frail lieutenant, bathing his forehead with the cooling water, — Nesting his cracked and blackened lips with reely. In about ten minutes the old ranger was at his side with a bunch of some sort of green stuff in bis hand, “This heur is ther article, my son,” he re- marked, showing it. ‘‘ And now we'll soon see what vartue thar isin it. We must have a fire, seein’ as you have a tin cup that will do ter cook itin, It’s better cooked than itare steeped an’ pressed out.” “Pil have a firein notime! You get the stuff ready. If thereis any hope, let’s hurry as fast as we can.” He moved in a way that proved that hope beat high in his own breast now, and as tbe old ranger cut the berb into short lengths and put it inthe cup he looked at the young man in something of admiration, Billy had the fire burning briskly by the time the old man was ready for it, and the cup was hung over it to sinymer. ‘“ Where are you from, my son?’ the ranger then found time to ask. Billy gave him a brief sketch of himself and Skinny, and was listened to with keen attention, ‘Waal, now, you don’t tell!” the ranger ex- claimed, when Billy had brought his brief out- line of their history down to the then present. ‘*T never had much respeck fer anything from ther East, but dig me if you ain’t somethin’ out of ther usual run, You are built on the right plan, you are.” “Ym glad you think so, But, isn’t that stuff nearly done?” ‘* Tt is gettin’ on, my son, it is gettin’ on, And while it’s drawin’, ll tell you somethin’ about Roger the Rover.” CHAPTER II. OLD ROGER’S STORY. BILLY was impatient, but had to exercise patience. The ranger was'so many years his senior that he had confidence in him, ‘*T’'d like to hear about you, of course,” he assented, ‘‘but you know how anxious I am about Skinny. Don’t cook that stuff a minute longer than is necessary, for. seems to me every breath is going to be his last.” ‘‘Trust me for that,” was the assuring reply. ‘* Tt will be ready naw in a few minutes, and there’s plenty of time for my short hist’ry. My name, as I have told ye, is Roger, the Rover, Anyhow, that’s the only name I know now, There used to be somethin’ more tacked onto it, but it’s solong ago that I hardly remember it, and it don’t matter anyhow. ‘Tt ain’t often that I open myself to a stranger but I ruther like you, my son, and the more so, seein’ that I was ’riginally from New York my- self,” “ rom New York—you /” “Yes; what’sstrange about that?” ‘*Tt seems odd, seeing you as you are now, and hearing the odd name you bear, But, go on,’ “Yes; I’m from New York, my son, but not from New York City. I never was thar in me life. I was borned and reared away up in ther north eend, and married and settled thar. I had a wife and one darter, and wag reason’bly happy- ‘‘ Ther war kem on, an’ I was fired ter go. My two Marys, wife and darter, opposed like sin but my blood was up, and thar was no holdin} me, went; and that was the last I ever seen of either of them again. It was rough, I tell you, and it made me what I am to-day.” ‘What was the diffikilty?” asked Billy, with an eager glance at the mess in the cup, and anx- ious looks at Skinny. ‘Death and villainy!” was the strongly em- phasized answer. “Two of the worst things you can name, and ther last in particular,” declared Billy, ‘You are right, my son—you are right as a lad kin be, I had a farm, but had a morgy on it, and that morgy was held by a man named Manson, He was a reg’lar old grinder, he was, and he had a son, Dan, who wasn’t no better, And that Dan was after my darter, But he couldn’t git ber, nobow, fer I didn’t like him, and the gal liked him a good deal less, “The old man died jest afore I went to war, and the son kem into all his belongin’s. He shook the morgy at me, an’ demanded my Mary, or he would foreclose, I langhed at him, for it was fixed so that jest as long as the inverest was paid up, it held good fer forever and a day, AndI managed to have the interest on hand overy time, you kinbe sure, But, thar was dark things ahead that I wasn’t lookin’ fer, and which knocked everything eendways.” At this point the old man paused, removed the decoction from over the fire, and taking another cup—Billy and Skinny bad each one—began to pour the dark mixture off into it carefully. “1 was fired red-hot fer the war, as I said, an? was goin’ to vollyteer, when who sh’u’d come to my bouse but a feller named Higgs, and he said said he—Rod, go to war in my place, and it will
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Broadway Billy’s Business, be three hundred dollars cash into your pocket. And I said, said I, mighty quick—Higgs, ’m your man, It wasn’t jest fair, mebby, keepin’ one man the more out of the ranks, but I thought of that morgy, and how fine it would be ter leave that snug leetle sum behind fer a nest-egg, so I didn’t stop to worry over that ‘int. 1 took the money, handed it toMary, and went to war, ‘© Yes; now it will do, Jad, and we'll give him his first dose,” This interruption in answer to Billy’s question- ing look, when the medicine had all been poured into the second cup. The first cup was cleaned out, some of the decoction was put back into it, and as soon as it was cool enough, it was poured into the poor invalid’s mouth, And the dose was evidently a full one, too. “‘ Thar, now we'll watch ther effeck of that, while Igo on with my yarn, an’ by ther time I’m done it’s effeck ought ter be seen.” ** And I hope it’s effect will be for the best,” said Billy. ‘‘ Poor little lad, he’s mighty bad On”? ‘¢ Well, as I was sayin’,” the narrator resum- ed, ‘‘I went off to war, And I felt safe, with that money, and more, in Mary’s hands, And I was determined to do enough fightin’ fer two men, and so make it all right with my con- science. And I ruther think I done enough fer three, by dad. I was in ’most all of ther wuss scrimmages, and I kem out at last with- out so much as ascratch, which was a big thing to say, in them days of woe.” **) should think so.” ““T wrote home as often as I could, and got some letters in answer, but at the last it got hotter than hot, I got in prison fer a spell, and connection was cut off, and I didn’t hear no more till the end. And then mebby I didn’t feel a longin’ fer home and ther dear ones that I’d left thar. Ever been homesick, lad? If you have, you know about how i felt. And I thought it would be nice to drop in on ’em with- out their knowin’ I was there. So, with that idee in mind, I went the back ways, and didn’t allow nobody ter know me, fer fear somehow co git word to Mary and so knock it in ther ead. ‘Pll never fergit ther feelin’ I had, as I climbed ther last hill that hid ther dear old home from sight. I couldn’t git to ther top half fast ernough. At ther foot of ther hill, on t’other side, was—home! Did I ran? Well, some! With myjhat in my-hand, and with tearsof joy ready ter spring from my eyes. I was up that hil! in no time, for I did want to see the dear old place once more, and then—my Marys!” His voice was choking, and he leaned forward with sudden interest in Skinny. ‘What is it?” asked Billy, alarmed. *‘Tv’s fer ther good, by dad!” was the excla- mation, ‘‘ See ther damp on him a’ready.’ An’ he’s droppin’ asleep, too,’ “Then you think he'll get well?” eagerly. “Til say he’s better, an’ that’s a step in ther right direction, anyhow.” /“ T only hope he will. Dd give my right hand to have him live, if that would save him, and I mean it.” ‘Don’t doubt it, lad, don’t doubt it a bit. But, let me get on with that sad yarn of mine, and have the misery over with. 1 got to the top of ther hill, at last, theugh as I said, I wasn’t no time in doin’ it. And [looked over, to see ther white cottage, with its green blinds and its neat fence, and mebbe one or both of my Marys; but ther instant I looked my heart froze up as though it had been froze by a blast from ther world’s end. No cottage was thar—no fence, no nothin’ but a spot of black that told ther hull story—Jire / “Waal, I sunk down right thar in ther road, as weak as ary baby, and thar I stayed, unable ter go ahead or back, I didn’t dare ter go ahead, fer fear I should hear wuss, news—fer somethin’ seemed ter tell me thar was WuSS news; an’ I didn’t dare go back, fer I must goon. And while I was in jest that fix, who sh’d come erlong but Clancy, the miller who lived over to the north of me. I had on my sojer rig, and he stopped and looked at mea minnit, and then he called me by name, “T couldn’t say nothin’, only I jest p’inted down at ther ruin, and be knowed what wanted, and he told me all about it, “Tt seemed that after 1 had gone, young Dan Manson had made himse!f a nuisance about the place, runnin’ after my gal, an’ as I wasn’t thar ter knock him down as he desarved, he done purty much as he pleased, till at last Mary told ther neighbors eal some of ’em warned him ter keep off. But he was ugly, and made threats, ‘comes young’ Dan fer his money. and among his threats was one that if my darter didn’t marry him before next interest day kem round, he would sell’em out, But of course he was laughed at in this. Ther winsmen had ther best hand and knowed it, ‘*- Yes, yes, son, he’s a-sleepin now, sleepin’ like ary baby. Cover bim an’ let him go inter it. ‘‘ Well, interest day kem round, and over And of course wife sends Mary up ter git it, whar it’s put away up-stairs. But, purty soon thar is a scream aod a bump up thar, and wife runs up. Thar is Mary on the floor in a dead faint, ther empty box in her hand, but ther money—gone | There must have been a time, as I have often thought sence. Ther money gone—all gone, they couldn’t pay, and Dan Manson made it hot around thar, so ther miller told. He said if Mary had a mind ter marry him, well an’ good ; if not, out they must go, neck an’ heels. I am proud ter think they still defied him. They put him out of ther house. ‘¢ Thar was no help for ‘em, They tried ter reach me, but it must ’a’ been about ther time I was in prison. Ther villain he went ahead, sold ’em out, an’ they had no house or home over their heads. But, they wouldn’t move. He couldn’t git ’em out, And, by dad, nobody would put em’ out! They jest held onto ther place like grim death, 4 am tellin’ ye. But about that time wife took sick, and suddently died, and ther trouble on ther gal was more’n she could stand. She went out of ber mind, and in a few months she war dead, too, ‘* And then, when it was too late, comes a feller what used to work for me, a sort o’ half- wit, who let out that 'he’d seen Dan Man- son enter ther house at night, by a windy. An’ that jest set things a-hummin’ergain. Thar was another young feller who regarded my Mary with warm feelin’, an’ a smarter young man thar wasn’t in ther hull county, if L do say it. He heard of this, and he played the spy on Manson till he had a clear case against him, an’ then he went ’fore the officers and told his story. In Dan Manson’s barn he had found ther very pocketbook an’ money what he had stole from my poor wife an’ darter!” ** Deserved to be hanged!” exclaimed Billy, in anger. * An’ I b’lieve he’d got it, too, if he hadn’t scented ther smoke an’ cleared out. Allin one night his place an’ mine went to ashes, an’ that was ther last that was ever seen of Dan Man- son in them parts. But he was heard of, as bein’ out heur in ther wild lands of ther West, and heur I am, buntin’ fer him, Son, I have tramped ten thousand miles if I have tramped one, lookin’ fer that man. ‘These gray hairs have all appeared since I set out in my hunt. And all Lask, afore I die, is ter come face ter face with him, Now you know why I’m called Roger the Rover.” Billy had listened with keen attention. ‘*Have you got any clew to him, that leads you this way?” be inquired, with an eye to busi- ness, ‘© No; I have not,” was the answer. ‘I don’t know whar he is. But somethin’ seems ter tell me that I’m goin’ ter find him sometime, so I keep right on rovin’, and I s’pose I'll keep it up till I die.” “I'm afraid your chances are slim, though,” Billy frankly commented. ‘ It is a good many years. You would not know the man now, even were you to meet him. Still, [know how you must feel about it, and I hope you will some day get at his throat, as you ought to,” ‘*But he is marked, my son, he is marked. On his left arm is a scar that no age will re- move. He was cut with a scythe, when a lad, and thar’s a hard, white seam, from elbow to wrist. When I see a man that I think might be him, I manage ter git a look at his left arm, if it takes a month of waitin’. And some day I am goin’ ter see that scar. Lknow tam. I feel 1t in my bones.” CHAPTER III, A TRYING MISFORTUNE COMES, THE old ranger’s story ended, and Billy’s com- ments made, both turned again to Skinny, to see how it was with bim. They found him sleeping soundly under the shade of the blanket which Billy had arranged with tender care to keep off the sun. There was a marked change for the better. ‘“‘Thar’s a big hope in bis favor now, my son,” declared the old ranger, with confidence in the assertion. ‘‘ That weed is doin’ its work, as I believe. Let ther pore lad sleep right on jest as long as he will, fer sleep is ther best medicine that I know of.” RRM nr as ee Lo) ‘“T believe you are right,” said Billy. ‘‘ He’s easier than’he has been atfall. It wasa godsend old man, your coming our way at this time. If ever there is a show to repay you for what you have done, you can bet your boots that Broad- way Billy will not let it slip by. But, have you had anything toeat? 1 haven't breakfasted yet, and we'll eat together.” ‘* Waal, my son, I have munched my strip o” jerked meat, but seein’ that you have tin cups with you, an’ as tin cups hints at coffee, if you have any o’ that with you, I would give much fer asmack atit, 1t’s better’n a month sence £ have poked my nose into a coffee cap.” ‘‘ And we've got it,” Billy cried, delighted. “‘Tt won’t come up to Delmonico’s best, seeing that we have to take it barefooted—that is, without sugar or milk; but it will do the busi- ness for you just the same.” ‘‘Darn ther trimmin’s,” exclaimed the old ranger. ‘It are jest as good undressed, ter my way of thinkin’. This heur makes me think 0? war-times, by dad it do! You don’t remember them times?’ “No,” Billy answered; “that diffikilty was over before [ made my daboo. But I have seen *most enough p’izen diffikilties since to make up for it,” ‘Ther world is full of ’em, my son, But, I have been askin’ mysel¢ a question or two, an’ now I opine I have answered ’em,.” ‘What about?” Billy asked. ‘‘Mebby I kin help you out, if it is somethin’ I know about,” ‘* Was wonderin’ why you stopped heur a hull week with yer sick pard, ’stead o’ forgin’ abeart and tryin’ ter reach somewhar, But I reckons [ see now how it war with ye.” “Its plain enough, when ye figger it out,” Billy responded. ‘* We stopped over here be- cause it was the most invitin’ spot we had seen in a week, And then, when Skinny was worse next day, I didn’t dare ter drag him on further, for fear of not findin’ water.” ‘Exactly, You could ’a’ rigged up a drag with poles and blankets, Injun style, but you didn’t know ther kentry, nor how fur from any place ye was, and was afraid ye might go fur- ther and fare wuss, It was wise ter remain heur, under them sarcumstances, I allow, my son. And now fer coffee!” So they talked while preparing their repast and fe they continued while they ate the frugal meal. A better camping spot could not have been found, Grove, grass, water, game, all were plentiful, and a season could have been passed there without serious disadvantage so far as food was concerned, During the day, while they gave untiring at- tenion to their patient, Billy and bis old com- panion exchanged confidences in many ways, giving reminiscences of their experiences in the different paths they had trod, and a warm friendship sprung up between them, By night there was a decided change for the better in Skinny. About dark he awoke, in bis right mind, and asked for something to eat, And here the judgment of the old ranger came into play. He gave food from their scanty store of the best sort, and in best proportion to fit the needs of the case, On the following morning Skinny was still better, and from that time his recovery was rapid. At the end of a week he was up and around, eating like a famished wolf, and his strength was rapidly returaing. Billy playfully declared that he did not see where he could put so much grub, and vowed that he was going hungry himself to keep Skinny supplied. » The old ranger was in favor of their stop- ping there another full week, to give Skinny every chance to get beyond the danger of a re- Japse, and anxious as the lads were to push on, they heeded his advice and settled down to camp-life for the time required. But there seemed no danger of that, for each day saw Skinny eating more and more, and gettin stronger and stronger, And the way he pick up his slight loss of flesh was astonishing. ‘“Sweet pertaters!” exclaimed Billy, as he took a good. survey of his lean lieutenant, at the end of the second week, ‘* but you are gain- ing amazingly. ll bet you have got more flesh on your bones than you ever had before in your life, You look so, anyhow. What do you think about it, Roger?” “Waal,” drawled the old ranger, ‘‘he sar- tingly bas more meat on him than he had when I fu’st met him. Jf he had had any less then, he wouldn’t have had any a tall, and that’s the ck.’ ‘¢ Well, to-morrow we start,” announced Billy. ‘And I can’t begin to tell bow glad I am to have you with me, Skin. Do you see that green 4 oa a eS es, a —
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4 Broadway Billy’s Business. spot over there, under the side of that big bowl- der?” ** Yes, I see it,” Skinny answered, xs Well, that’s the spot I had picked out in my mind for your grave, when you was s0 aw- ful low.” ° A shudder passed over the lean lieutenant’s slender form, ‘Youre no more pleased to have me with you, Billy, than I am to be with you, and that I can tell you,” he cried, ** And I’m more’n glad ter have ye both with me,” chimed in the old ranger, ‘‘ seein’as we are all goin’ thersame way. We’ll start at daylight, and aim fer Wind Canyon Camp.” * All right, Roger; you are boss of the proces- sion,” decided Billy. ‘*How far did you say it is to that place?” **T guess it ain’é nothin’ short o’ sixty miles,” was the answer, ‘* And that means three days’ travel,” ‘* Not any less, my son, taking it easy.” ** And I can stand that, I Snowe declared Skinny. ‘* Provided we have enough for you to eat, eh?” suggested Billy. ‘‘ Sweet pertaters! We ought ter have a pack-mule, Skinny, and about a ton of jerked beef, so as to keep you sup- plied.” ‘ ** Yes; you don’t want to let me starve,” agreed Skinny, ‘I want my six meals a day, as regular as the clock. Nothin’ less than that will do me, in my present state of weakness, I am making up for lost time, you know.” ‘*Making up for lost time!” Billy cried. “You made that up two or three days ago. It begins ter look as thougb you are fillin’ up fer six months in advance. You eat more than any six men I ever saw in my life, But, go into it, thin one, and don’t let me discourage you. It tickles me clear down to my toes to see you eat so, ** But it’s a caution where you put it,” Billy marveled. ‘‘ You never weighed a hundred pounds in your life, I don’t believe, but Ill bet you have got away with that many pounds of meat since you got well,” ** Let him go it,” put in the old ranger; ‘‘ ther more he eats ther better it will suit me. It proves thar vartue of that medicine, I have never knowed it ter fail more’n a few times in my life, But, now ter bed, lad, fer sleep is ther best of all, and thar’s work ter-morry.” Skinny had been treated as the baby of the trio, and had been put to bed as early as sun- down, almost, and had offered little Le ey to it. He could sleep from ten to twelve hours straight, and never wake up once, | On this occasion the others were not long in following bis example, and in a little while all were asleap. ; Sometime in the night Billy was suddenly awakened by shouting, followed by the report of a fireatm, and as he scrambled to his feet, scrambling for bis rin ree at the same time, he eard the clatter of hoofs and heard the old ranger awearing away like a trooper. ** What is it?’ Billy asked, excitedly, **Tnjuns!” was the fierce response, ** And the horses—” ‘* They bas tooken ’em, slick an’ clean!” Skinny, too, was now awake and out, armed and ready to do his share of whatever was de- manéed, ‘*They must ’a’ dropped onto us out of ther sky,” Roger declared, after another effort at choice anathemas. ‘‘I haven’t seen a single Injun sign anywhars about heur, an’ [ bave been lookin’ out fer ’em, too.” ‘* Maybe they will sneak back and try to salt ~us?” suggested Billy. “Jest as like as not,” agreed the ranger, ‘if thar is any number of ’em and they know jest how few we are. We’ll git back beur in ther shade and keep our eyes skinned fer’em, Any- how I will. You kin go on with yer sleepin’. It ain’t no use ter go after ’em,” ‘* And we are in a fix without our horses,” remarked Skinny, as they drew back into the deeper shades under the rocks and shrubbery. “Tt are bad for you, I allow,” the ranger remarked, ‘“‘ but it don’t trouble me any per- , sonally, seein’ as I never straddled a hossin my life, but wunst. That was when I was a younker, I vowed then I’d never do it again, an’ I haven’t, I was sent flyin’ about twenty feet over a fence that time, and it cured me.” ** And you can bet that we ain’t goin’ to give our horses up without a kick,” declared Billy. “They was pire to us, and we wouldn’t parted with ’em fer love or eee “ You bet!” chipped in Skinny, “I'm sorry fer ye,” returned the ranger, **but I ruther fear it’s a dead dog. In hes mornin’ they will be too fur away fer us ter think of goin’ after’em, But we'll tell better about that when mornin’ comes,” There was no sleep the rest of that night. At dawn they ventured forth from their place to take a look around. Over where the horses had been tethered, and in which direction the old ranger went, was found the body of an Indian, ‘*T knowed I didn’t miss ther cuss, by dad!” the ranger cried. ‘‘Heur he are, in all his beauty, a regular coward of a hoss-thief Injun, They has come outo us unexpected in ther night, I reckon, though it’s most likely they seen us earlier an’ made up their minds ter have ther hosses, We'll see avout that.” The old ranger looked around with practiced eye, and finally set off cown the slope, telling seep ore to wait and hold the fort till he got ack, He was gone about half an hour. When he returned he declared that the Indians had camped just on the opposite side of the slope, in a clump of trees, and that they must have plan- ned to steal the horses in the night and make off without being heard. That mattered little, The great fact was that the horses were gone, and that Billy and his slender partner were in a bad fix. They would have to walk, and Skinny was hardly in con- dition for that yet. Their progress must be slow, and their hardships were likely to be pretty severe. But they bad Roger the Rover to rely on. CHAPTER IV. BILLY GETS INTO TROUBLE, AT a suggestion from Skinny, when they had made sure the enemy bad gone, the first thing in order was breakfast, That was accordingly attended to, and Skin- ny’s appetite did not appear to be in any way affected by their severe loss. Billy mentioned this, but Skinny’s retort was that he must eat the more, since he had to walk. ‘‘And we might as well break up camp and begin ther tramp,” suggested the old ranger, when the meal was ended. ‘‘ Stayin’ heur won’t bring ther hosses back, an’ we was ter set off, anyhow. An’1 have noticed that ther cusses went in about ther direction we wants ter go, ‘*Then we'll track ’em,” declared Billy. ‘ It is jest possible that they may stop somewhere, and that we’ll come upon them, And if we do— well, there’ll be a row, you bet,” ‘* T agree with ye, lad, if thar’s a show fer our mouey a tall, If we find no more’n four or five of ’em, by dad we’ll wade into ’em, or else steal ther hosses back ergain, which I opine could be done. But, we'll see, Ther thing now is ter make ready and git started.” | As things had to a great extent been prepared on the previous night, there was little to do now, and they were soon passing down the slope, leaving the scene of their temporary home for- ever, When they reached the Jower level, and turned in the direction in which their horses had been taken, and when they had followed the trail for a little way, the old ranger was able to decide as to the number of Indians in the band, ‘¢Thar’s only five horses in all,” he declared, ‘‘ an’ two of ’em we know is yours. Then we know we left one good Injun at ther camp, so, accordin’ to ther trail, thar isonly two left; fer I don’t see any signs 0’ any more,” ‘* Unless some of them had no horses at the be- ginning,” suggested Billy. “That may be, my son, but it ain’t likely. Injun and hoss is one, gen’ly, and when thar’s @ overplus on either side, it’s gen’ly in the number o’ hosses,” ' ‘¢ And then that accounts for their not waking us up, or [ mean their trying not to wake us up. They had no more force than our own, and were afraid of us. Maybe it was good for our health that there wasn’t a dozen of them.” In this view the ranger agreed, and they pusb- ed steadily forward in the direction their horses had been taken, The first day’s journey was made short, on Skinny’s account, though he declared that he was good for half the distance further, and pro- tested against stopping. Roger the Royer ordered it, however, so stop they did. And perhaps he and Billy had found they had gone about as far as they felt like going, since they had each a saddle to carry, be- sides the store of provisions, The more exercise Skinny took, the more he ate, and the more he ate the faster his strength came, And not only so, but Billy noticed that he was ee laying on flesh, He had certainly reached an@ passed his former weight, unless appearances were wonderfully deceiving. ‘Sweet pertaters!” Billy ejaculated, on the fourth day of their journey, *‘ but you are on the gain, Skinny, sure as youare born. I really think it would be safe for you to throw away your ballast now. I don’t believe the wind would waft you away, unless it blew pretty strong.” ‘* He’d stand about as good a chance as we would in a hurrycane,” the old ranger remarked, ** But whatdo ye mean by throwin’ away bis. ballast, my son?” “Why, he’s allus been so awful thin,” ex- plained Billy, ‘‘ that I had to advise him to bas a couple of buckshot in his vest pocket to enable him to keep his feet on the ground.” The old ranger laughed at this, **T guess you need not be anxious on that score any more, my son,” he said, ‘‘He is pickin’ up a pound a day, if he is pickin’ upa ounce.” ‘““You mustn’t believe half Billy tells you,” Skinny said to him. ‘He is allus gettin’ off some chestnut or other about my bein’ thin. And as to keepin’ my feet on the ground, I don’t see how he keeps his own there, seeing that gas is so much lighter than air,” This turned the laugh upon Billy, and the amused old man held his sides, ‘You are gettin’ better, my gay an’ festive little rooster,” remarked Billy. ‘‘1 guess the doctor needn’t come to see youany more, When a fellow can eat like you do, and get off as poor a joke as that, he is out of danger.” ‘I’m going to give it back to you, every time,” Skinny declared. ‘‘ And as soon as £ come to weigh as much as you do, I’m going to lick you the very first time you say a word about thinness to me.” By this time they had given up all hope of finding their horses, or the rascals who had stolen them, and had dropped the trail when it oh off in a direction they did not care to take. A couple of days more brought them to their destination, the camp the old ranger had told them about, and at the hour of sunset they made their entrance into the place. , Wind Canyon Camp was not unlike hundreds of others of its kind. It bad its rude hotel, saloons and quota of shanties. And its denizens were of the vsual stamp. ‘*Waal, heur we be at last!” sighed the old tramp, as they set foot upon the one street of the camp. a nd glad to get here,” added Billy, ‘‘ though it does look like the place next to nowhere,” “You're a chronic kicker,” declared Shing *“'You’d kick if you was dyin’. Iam satisfied with the place, if it’s only to get a square meal here, They passed on, drawing considerable atten- tion from those who saw them, and finally came to a halt before the hotel of the camp, the ‘Home Sweet Home”—as its rude sign in- formed, : After a glance at the exterior, they passed in. It was the usual type of border camp hotel,. with the usual loungers and hangers-on scat- tered around the room, ‘ Broadway Billy dropped his load of trappings: in one corner, and advanced to the bar, where a man, evidently the proprietor, was looking at. the three in an interested way, his elbow on the bar. ‘* Any chance fer board here?” Billy asked, ‘** Plenty of it,” was the response. “Trot out yer log-book, then, and Ill sling our handles into it for ye.” ‘‘Heur ye be,” and the man handed out an al- manac—and a last year’s one at that, in which were some blank spaces for memoranda, Billy felt like making comments, but choked back the words and entered the names of him- — self and friends, and as he handed back the — pencil, which seemed to have more than usual value with his host, being probably the only on he had, remarked: ’ ‘ Now, Jandlord, what about rates? I and my old friend here are about good average eaters, but this little shadow isa terror. He will want about six meals a day, at the rate he bas been going it, with pieces to chink in with between times. I thought I’d mention this, so’s there couldn’t be any kick later.” ; The landlord took it as a joke, and laughing); said that about double rates would make it al right, he thought: and to that Billy agreed, wit! the further remark that if the landlord got stuck it was his own fault, And while this was — going on, a fellow who had glanced at the trio with something of a start at their first appear-
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~ — = Se an ee ee ee — Broadway Billy’s Business. ance, sidled out of the room without drawing ai | attention to himself. bout as soon as the registering had been at- tended to, Skinny pnt an inquiry concerning something to eat, which evidently led the Jand- lord to believe that Billy had not been joking after all, Supper had been over for some time, but a new supply was ordered dished up, ard in a little time the three new-comers were eating the first table meal they had had in many days, Skinny ate ravenously, and when finally he could eat no more, pushed back with a sigh, saying he was sorry his capacity was not larger. hen they were about done, they heard some loud, rough talking in the bar-room, which adjoined the kitchen and dining-room combined, in which they were eating, and rightly took it to be some rough blusterer expanding bis lungs, ** Ya-as!”’ he was shouting, when they opened the door and stepped out into the bar-room, “*they stole ’em, an’ I’m bettin’ rocks on it! What use is saddles without critters ter put ’em on? They stole’em, [say, an’ this heur camp wants ter take ther matter an’ sift it,” : He -was a bad-looking man in every sense, Of middle age, he was rougb, bearded and dirty, and looked to be just what he was—a bully. Glaring around as he ended, his eyes rested upon the trio of new arrivals, and after glaring at them for a moment, as though trying to make them tremble with his awful eye, he bellowed: “Did yer hear what yer pop said, leetle boyees?” “*T thought I heard some one whisper, an- swered Billy, nonchalantly. **Thort yer heerd somebody whisper! Great sneezin’ snakes! Dyer call this heur whisperin?? If yer do, ye had jest orter hear me when I scream.” “‘T have heard the bray of a jackass many a time,” Billy retorted, as coolly as before, The crowd in the room laughed at this, while Roger the Rover looked at Billy in alarm and Skinny turned pale. **You mean ter call mea jackass!” the be- whiskered bully shouted, ‘' By ther long pole, you young whelp, I’ve a notion todraw yer ears down under your chin an’ tie ’em in a hard knot!” ‘*A proceedin’ to which I might offer some decided objections,” returned the dauntless Billy. ‘‘I haven’t called you a jackass. But judging by your voice as itis, the bray of the mentioned animal must be music compared with it when you let it out full blast.” ‘*Great curly-tailed sarpints!” the bully cried, hot with rage, ashe stamped around and brand- ished his arms, “If you wasn’t a boy, darn me if I wouldn’t eat you half vp. You can’t know who you are talkin’ to, it must be. Know, thar- fore, that I_ am Blue-hand Bart, ther Man- eater of jther Mountings! Lookon me an’ trem- ble, you poor tenderfoot.” *““T am looking,” Billy made answer, unheed- ing to the jerkings of Skinny upon his arm and the negative nods and frowns of the old ranger, “Pm looking with all the eyes I’ve got, but l can’t getup a tremble wortha cent. Sorry if I have made you mad about anything, Mr, Man- eater, and hope you'll cool off and not get over excited, It is bad for the nerves, so [ have heard.” The terror of the camp looked upon Billy in speechless amazement for a moment or two, “Youngster,” he finally said, in a subdued tone, **t don’t know whar you hail from, nor who you be, but it are plain that you have had wrong bringin’ up. I’m goin’ ter take ye over my knee jest wunst, ter give ye a lesson in man- ners. Now dou’t ye dare ter run away, fer if al do ll nigh about kill ye. Mind what I’m rayin’ at ye vow, ef yer think I’m a jackass,” ___ CHAPTER Y, BLUE-HAND BACKED DOWN. Wiru that remark, the terrible Man-eater ad- vanced toward where Broadway Billy was ‘standing, and as he did so, the Rover tooka step in advance, to get between his young friend and the man whom he bad enraged; but Billy, in low tone, requested him not to interfere. ** But, he’ll do ye harm,” the ranger warned. ** Not much he won't!” Billy assured, ‘ Let him come!” “Out of ther way thar, old cock,” the en- raged bully commanded, ‘ Let his pop git holt onto bim fer jest about one minnit, an’ see if ther dust don’t fly.” Somehow assured by Billy’s confident tone, the old ranger stepped aside and allowed the two to face each other, “Come right heur,” the fellow invited, and he made a reach for the delegate from New York. But, he met witb a trifling surprise, Billy had remained motionless, in a careless way; now, as that hand was.outstretched, up came his own, with a brace of revolvers in their rasp. He had the fellow covered in the neatest pos- sible way, and had the advantage of him. It had been a lightning movement, too, a trick he had learned in Texas, Mr. Blue-hand Bart stopped short, with his nose almost upon the deadly tubes, and his jaw dropped as his eyes flew open, Here was a sur- prise he had not figured on. “Tm waitin’ for ye, pop,” Billy announced, ‘*Put up them ’ar!” the bully cried. ‘“Yes, when I get ready,” ‘* You'll do it a heap afore ye git ready, if yer don’t mind.” “Oh, no, 1 guess not. You're only joking. Your hide is full of jokes, as I can see.” ‘“*And yours will be full of somethin’ else, if you don’t drop them ’ar guns an’ let me at ye, Pll most kill ye, if yer don’t.” © And Vl full kill you, if you don’t draw off and cool down,” warned Billy, ‘I’m a game chicken from Texas, where they make men out of just such chips as I am, and if you don’t want a dose, draw off.” ‘Yer don’t mean you’d shoot?” ‘*Try it on, and see,” Billy’s cool, sharp tone, and his flashing eyes, told the terror of the camp that he had picked up a thistle this time. He must get out of it somebow, but how was he to do it withouta clear back-down that every- budy would laugh at? It was something that was not easily answered. ‘“‘Haw, haw, haw!” he suddenly broke out, with a bray of a laugh that likened him to the animal Billy had compared him to, ‘* Yer don’t know when a feller is foolin’, that are plain.” ‘*No, I don’t, and that’s the fact, when the other fellow acts like you do,” was the retort, ** Well, I was foolin’, lad. I jest wanted ter see what you was made of, that was all. Put vache them ’ar things, an’ we'll be friends,” ‘** No, 1 don’t believe we will,” Billy disagreed. ““You are not my sort, exactly. Yl put ’em away, though, when you step back a few feet. You’re too near for comfort where you stand now,” The bully stepped back, because there was nothing else he could do; and as he did so, a snicker ran through the crowd, It was not easy to make them see the case in any other light than the right one. Billy lowered his revolvers, and they had al- most disappeared when the man’s blue right band made a jump for his belt where his own weapon was ready. But, it was a useless trick, “No you don’t!” Billy cried, again on the alert, His hands were up again, with a quickness the eye could hardly follow, and his deadly pair were to the fore. ** Haw, haw, haw!” the fellow laughed, though his face did not laugh with his voice, * that ar was well done, I jest wanted ter see if yer could do it ergain as lightnin’ quick as yer did ther fu’st time,” : hc And you're satisfied that I can?” questioned illy. . ‘‘ Perfectly satersfied, sonny. You has got it down fine. Don’t believe I could do it any bet- ter myself,” ‘This was more than the crowd could stand and not laugh outright. It let itself loose, and the laugh was loud. And this let the bully out. Wheeling around, with a fierce scrow! upon his face, fe loudly demanded: ; ‘* What yer laffin’ at, fools!” A good many of the faces sobered instantly, proving that Blue-band Bart was a man who was feared, “What yer laffin’ at, I ax yer?’ he cried again. ‘* Do yer see anything funny ter set ye off so?” More faces straightened, and three or four who were near the door backed out of the room, to get easily out of an unpleasant situation. As the bully put his question the second time, and glared around like some fierce tiger, there happened to be one fellow who could not hold his laughter when once it was started, and he burst out loudly, This man’s name was Grimble, a peaceable enough fellow, but one who was clearly no match for the bully in muscular power, “You will laff, and rigut in me face, too, will ye?” Blue-band shouted, ‘I guess I'l) have ter eee ee eee ee Sa take ye in hand fer it, me funny galoot. Ill show ye that I ain’t no laffin’-stock,” and with the words the bully made a forward dash, and instantly the man’s laugh was changed to a cry of alarm. ‘* Hold on, Bart!” he cried. ‘‘ It would come out, an’ if wasn’t at you in partic’lar, It—” But that was as far as he got, for the fist of the bully cut him short, and he went spinning half-way to the opposite side of the room, where he fell to the floor in a dazed condition. ‘* Anybody else feel like laffin’?” the bully de- manded, as he glared around, ‘I think I kin help ’em, if thar is, Laff at Blue-hand Barr, will yer? By ther great curly-tailed sarpints! I'll pulverize ther next galoot what grins.” obody now was even smiling. “That's ther sort of a jackass yer pop is, sonpy!” he finally declared, turning back again to Billy. ‘* Yer kin see what sort of a show yer would of had, if I had been in ’arnest with yer. Oh, yer kin take yer hands off yer guns, fer I don’t mean ye no harm,” ‘Glad to hear that,” assured Billy, promptly. ‘‘T would hate like fun to have to make a hole in ye.” “ Thar’s no ’casion fer it. But you have jest seen ther sort of a man [ am, an’ you’ll have ther good sense ter govern yerself ’cordin’ly. Don’t let me have ter be in ’arnest with you,” ‘*Oh, that won’t worry me any. You will find me in earnest to meet you, every time.” ‘‘ Snakes! Do yer mean ter defy me?” “‘Not at all!” averred the young man, ‘I wouldn’t think of doin’ anything so rash as that.” Skinny had long since backed away, leaving Billy to his fate—as he looked upon it, but his hand was upon a ready weapon while he await- ed the outcome. : And the old ranger, too, had ceased his nods and frowns, seeing that it was useless to per- sist further. That he felt anxious his face clearly indicated, And everbody else was look- ing on breathlessly, “Then what in the name o’ snakes of all kinds do yer mean?” the bully demanded. .‘*I mean business, right from the shoulder,” was the prompt retort. ‘Yer means business, hey?” “You bet Ido. When we stepped into this room, from supper, your were taking on about our saddles over there, and as much as called us thieves.” ‘** Ho-ho! are it?” ‘* That’s the very pin!” ‘Waal, I’m glad yer reminded me of them ar® saddles, me lad. 1 believe I did say some words about ter that ‘ar ‘effeck, an’ mebby you kin prove whar ye got ’em,” ‘That is coming back to the starting p’int,” said Billy. ‘* Where we got the saddles is my business. Nor are we going to try toproveany- thing about them, They are our own property, and that is all it is necessary for you to know abdut it,” ‘That's gen’ly the cry,” sneered the bully. ‘‘ And now I have something to say to you, one and all,” added Billy, not paying attention to that, ‘We have come into your camp to rest up for a few days before going further, and we want to havo peace with every man of you, But you want to understand, right at the start that we are not going to be walked on, an least of all be called thieves. Now, if you are fer peace and good will, we are, every time.” It was plain to be seen that this brief speech took with the crowd, and that Billy had their good will already. “‘ Better let up on the lads, Blue-hand,” spoke the man behind the bar. ** And who’s down onto him yet, Murt Ken- yons?” the bully demanded, ‘** You appear to be,” ‘‘Wal, it ain’tso, Hasn’t ther leettle rooster been pickin’ at me ever sence he made his ’pear~ ance?” ‘‘No matter about ther merits of ther case now,” the proprietor returned, “I guess you kin both afford ter let it drop. You don’t know anything about ther saddles anyhow, and we must take ther lad’s word,” + Sa Oh, well, I don’t want to argy ther p’int,” declared Blue-hand, turning away froma the crowd. “I ain’t got no grudge ergainst ther younker, but I think he’s a leetle too waspy, an’ mebby he'll git tamed down afore he’s a hundred ears old. I hope he will.” With that he turned and went out, and soon after went another fellow, the same one who had sidled out of the room upon Billy’s first appear- ance there, The terror gone, the crowd was let free from That’s ther pin what sticks yer, See ee my:
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ea 6 restraint, and men pressed around Billy, eager to grasp his hand. He had made the worst man of the camp take water, they declared. Billy made himself agreeable to one and all, and after atime he and his two comrades retired to their room, eager to get as much rest as possi- ble after their long walk, and anxious the more on Skinny’s account. And once there, the old ranger read Billy a lecture on tke folly of what he had done in making an enemy of the bully, CHAPTER VI. SCENTING A MYSTERY. ‘“Sweer pertaters! Just as if [ could help it!” So Billy complained, when the lecture ended, And he put on aninjured air, oneso well known to Skinny. ‘* But see ther danger ye have run yer neck inter,” reminded the old ranger. ‘‘ You have made a enemy of that feller, and he none too good ter try ter do ye harm, if he seesa chance,” **Couldn’t help it,” Billy stoutly declared. **Tt’s the way I’m made up, I s’pose, I couldn’t take his guff and not give some back again, not much, Besides, we are no thieves, and I won’t let any man call me one, not whenI can chip in my little chirp against it.” ‘Waal, waal, I admire yer grit, my son; and when you get a few more years on your shoulders you are going ter make a terror, if yer muscle is in keepin’ with yer cool nerve, that’s all.” ** And I’ve got a little of the muscle, too,” Billy boasted. ‘ By the way, I haven’t told you my age. How old do you take me to be?” “Waal, crowdin’ eighteen, [ should think.” “Tl never see that again, Rover, I’m aim- ing for twenty-one, and I have shed my pin- feathers, every one.” ‘*T wouldn’t ’a’ believed it, by dad. You don’t look yer age,” *“*That is where lots of fellows get fooled in me. They take me for a baby, ’cause my face is so fresh and not a sign of hair on it yet. Skinny tells me that I’m never going to have any, be- cause my cheek is too hard, But there is a pair of us, for he will never have any either, for the reason that hair don’t grow on bones,” «Pm going to cover my bones,” Skinny spoke up, ‘‘if my appetite holds good, and there’s no sign of its going back on me yet. WishI had a Eure of pies to top off with before I go to sleep.” ‘“Sweet pertaters!” cried Billy, ‘‘ Let’s put him to bed, Rover, or there will be a famine in this camp.” The old ranger laughed, and all prepared for sleep. And the last said was a word of warning from the old man for Billy to look out for Blue- hand Bart. Some time in the night Billy awoke with a part, finding himself sitting bolt upright on the oor, " He and the old ranger had bunked on the floor, allowing Skinny to undress and take the softer repose of the bed, to which Skinny had objected, but was overruled, Now Skinny wassleeping like a log, while the old ranger’s pretty snore was ringing out like the bum of a circular saw cutting shingles, The room was dark and not another sound was to be heard, “Pd like ter know what woke me up,” thought Billy. ‘ It was somethin’ out of the usual line,” he muttered, Just then the old ranger’s snore exploded, as though the saw had struck a hard knot .and broken a tooth. ‘*Mebby it was old Rover’s trombone that brought up suddenly against an accidental sharp or flat. Or, mebby a fly ligbted on his music, and he played that, like the Dutchman I’ve heard of. But then, it’s dark, and the old man is asleep, and his trombone is his snore; so all that don’t count., What was it?” Billy got upon his feet, silently, and listened attentively. Nothing was to be heard, and the whole camp appeared to be in slumber. But he well knew something had awakened him. He felt his way to the door and tried that. It was secured safely, the same as they had ar- ranged it, He listened there, to see if any one was moving in the hall. He heard nothing feat was suspicious, It puzzled him not a lit- ie, Moving away, he went tothe window. ‘““{ know it was something,” he muttered, “*fer my sleep-works don’t go off in that style fer nothin’. And I'd like ter know what it was. Broadway Billy’s Business. I wish old Rover would let up on that fog horn of his fer about a minute. Ill have ter wake him, ter stop ther music, I guess,” But he didn’t, yet. He drew back the strip of blanket that served as a curtain, and peered out into the street, There all was dark, though the outlines of buildings were discernible, and nothing was moviug, so far as Billy could detect. It began to be forced upon him that a dream must have wakened him, after all. ** Reckon I'll have ter own up that there is a flaw in my sleeper, after all,” he said to himself, ‘‘ Don’t seem ter be anything goin’ on that would serve ter wake me. Don’t un- derstand it. I hate ter go back ter bunk with- out knowin’ more about it, but reckon [ll have—” At that instant something came to bis ears. The window was open, it being warm, and was covered with only the hanging strip of blanket, For that reason, any sound in the street would have come to his ears more readily than one within the house itself. And now from that direction a sound was plainly heard. It was a cry, in a woman’s voice, but it was hardly begun when it was cut short, as though by a hand clapped suddenly over her mouth, ‘“‘Sweet pertaters!” exclaimed Billy, under his breath, ‘‘I knowed it. That woman has let out a scream before, and that’s been what wakened me. Thar’s a p’izen diffikilty a-brew- in’ here, and I know it. Now ther question is, who was it that let out that yelp, and whyfor?”’ As the room was dark within, he bad no fear of being seen from without, so be put his head well out and watched and listened attentively. At first there was nothing further, but pres- ently he caught the low mutter of men’s voices; then, a little later, a group of dark shadows moved along on the opposite side of the street, close together and moving silently as possible and steadily. ‘* That’s the p’izen lot,” Billy decided, ‘‘ And it’s dollars ter dimes that a mean skeem of some sort is afoot with ’em. Hang my sister’s tom- cat if I don’t jest itch ter be out and after ’em!” With the thought caine the resolve. “Tg Broadway William forgettin’ his business in this way? Notany! His business now is ter find out what is goin’ on, and what that woman was screamin’ for. Andif there’s any crooked business going on, bet your gum boots,that there will be a waking up in this camp.” He had taken off his boots upon retiring, and did not stop now to look for them. Besides, he could move faster without them and with less noise, Turning, he felt his way hastily to the door, opened it with caution, and slipped out into the hall, He had taken care to fix the plan of the over- grown shanty in his mind, on coming up to the room, and knew what direction to go to get out, Feeling his way along the wall, he was soon at the stairs, and passing down rapidly, was quickly at the hall door—tbe shanty-hotel boast- ipg a narrow apology for a hall. A moment’s quick feeling along the front of the door found two bolts, and in another moment these had been slipped, the door silently opened, and Broadway Billy was out on the street, bare- footed and bareheaded, but with weapons in hand, The shadowy forms had disappeared. Knowing the direction in which they had gone, however, Billy sprung after them, and ppeny caught up with them as near as he cared to be, He had certainly expected to find a woman with them, a prisoner, but he was mistaken and disappointed. There were four men, and about the time when he had come as near to them as he dared approach, they stopped. Billy stopped too, and listened, They were near a shanty, and between that shanty and the point where Billy stood wasa vacant space. The young spy turned off at an angle, and ran swiftly as he dared run to the rear corner of the shanty, taking advantage of the darkness. Reaching there, he advanced crouching to- ward the front, and in half a minute was within plain hearing of the four men, and without hay- ing been discovered by any of them. “That’s all right, Death-face,” one was say- ing. ‘‘It was well done, and that peep wasn’t heard, I guess.” ‘*No: but ther fu’st one was a startler. Guess it didn’t disturb anybody, or we'd heard some movin’ ’round, Well, ther job are done, and what now?” ‘*Now ter bed,” put in another of the four. ‘That settles it, and thar’s no use wastin’ any more valuable time, as I kin see.” “Right you be. No use standin’ heur ter chin, so let’s part comp’ny and git ter roost.” A few brief words more, one to another, and they went off, each in a different direction, ‘““Sweet pertaters!” muttered Billy. ‘*I’m stuck this time, fer sure. I can’t foller ’em all, that’s a dead certainty, unless I quarter myself, and I don’t believe that would pay.” As he could follow but one, he made a hasty choice and set out after the one who retraced his steps in the direction of the hotel, **T can hole one of ’em, anyhow,” he reflected. “And Tve got a clew onto another, by the name I caught on to—Death-face, and I'l) let him go. This one will be two out of the four, and that won’t be bad for a two minutes’ job. Won’t Skinny and the old one open their eyes,, when I tell ’em about this in the mornin’!” He moved silently on, keeping his man well in sight, and finally had the satisfaction of seeing him enter a shanty some distance beyond the hotel. ‘*That holes him,” Billy decided. ‘‘ There’s no chance fer mistake, af the shanties take a crazy waltz before mornin’ and get mixed up. Willyum of Broadway, the detective fever has got you again, and got you bad, You want to know somethin’ about that scream, and you are going to know somethin’, too, or: bu’st a button off.” He stopped a moment to think, before return- ing to the hotel. “Tf that gal wasn’t killed, she must be alive yet,” he mused, and as he thought he scratched his head, as though to stir up ideas, ‘“ And if she’s alive, she can’t be more’n # thousand miles from here. This camp ain’t New York City, not’ by several shanties, and it won’t take me a week ter go and listen at every door in the place. Mebby lil bear her sobbing: and sighing, if she is a prisoner.” To think was to act, He knew about where he had heard the cry befcre, and adding two and two, was sure there bad not been time enough for the men to have taken the girl, woman, or whatever she was, far away while he was getting out. Crossing the street, he went from shanty to shanty, listening, but was baffled in every instance. Still he kept on, till he had finally listened at every shanty in all that part of the camp. And not a sound came from within any of them. This upset his theory, and at last he had to return to his room with the mystery un- solved. But it was with the determination to make it his business to find out what it meant before he left the camp, CHAPTER VII. BILLY’S KNOCK-DOWN, Tae first one awake in the morning was Skinny. He sat up in bed, looked out at his two sleep- in peomipanies on the floor, and said to him- self: ‘Great ginger!” in exclamation, ‘‘if I could sleep assound as that, I’d be happy, and I’d soom bemyself again, I don’t believe a brass band would wake ’em.” Quite a remarkable speech, considering that he had not been awake once during the night, and in truth had bardly moved in bed for a straight stretch of eight hours and a half, He slipped silently out of bed, and was nearly dressed when Billy awoke. ‘‘T thought I felt the house tremble under a heavy weight,” Billy remarked, as with a yawn and a stretch he sat up. His voice wakened the old ranger, whose snore had grown gradually less in volume as morning approached, and he, too, sat up with a gape and. rubbed his eyes, “You two fellers would sleep till noon, I reckon,” complained Skinny, in a scolding tone, ‘if somebody didn’t wake you up. Here I have been up this long time, and aJmost roused the whole camp tryin’ to get you out.” ‘Get out yourself!” cried. Billy. ‘ You haven’t been up a whole minute yet, as your clothes prove. hat do you say, Rover?” ** Tt looks like it, by dad,” the ranger agreed. ‘* He ain’t been up long, that is sure, or I’d been awake. It don’t take but a trifle ter wake me,” ‘‘And the same with Skin, I suppose he'd say,” observed Billy. ‘‘The fact is, it would take a cannon to wake either one of y®, when. you get right down to business,” “Oh, you’re talkin’ now ter hear yerself,” the ranger remarked, as, having pulled on his boots: he proceeded to comb his hair with his fingers. Billy had a quiet laugh all to himself, think- ing of the surprise he had in store for them.
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% f 1 vi ‘" eet ns ee a a = yee f 7 me ‘* What are ye grinnin’ at?” asked Skinny. ‘* Sweet pertaters! it’s enough ter make a monkey grin, ter hear you two blow about your light sleepin’. Why wasn’t ye up in the night ter see the big excitement on the street?” ** Big excitement!” cried Skinny. ** You bet!” ‘That don’t go down,” disputed the old ran- ger. ‘‘There warn’t much noise goin’ on, my son, or I would have been awake,” ‘*Ha, ha, ha!” Billy laughed. ‘‘I have got the bulge on you this time, sure. Why, Rover, you were snoring away like a wheezy church organ, and Skiu here was as dead as a log, when it was goin’on, But J was out ter seoit alJ, you bet!” The two looked at him in a half-shamed, half- doubtful, way. ‘*That’s purty hard ter believe,” declared the old ranger. ‘* You couldn’t ’a’* put on yer boots an’ left this heur room ’thout my knowin’ it.” ‘Tt sounds thin, and that’s the fact,” admit- ted Skinny, ‘‘ but Billy don’t make much noise when he wants to bestill, Rover. Say, what are ye givin’ us, anyhow, Billy? Isita tie yarn?” Billy told his story, and proved it by the soil- stained condition of his feet. ‘* Tad, you are a whooper,” commented the old ranger, ** That’s no name fer him,” averred Skinny. “*Mebby not; but it will do. Ill call him a whooper. But ’mafeerd that you will git inter trouble.” “Sweet pertaters!” Billy cried. ‘I’m never out of trouble longer’n a week or two at a time. I take,ter trouble—or trouble takes ter me—as nat’ralas a duck takes to water, Can’t keep out of itnohow. And now that the detective fever is burnin’ in my veins, [ expect nothin’ less than that Pll get inter a peck o’ trouble the first thing I know. If Ido, you and Skin will have ter fish me out, that’s all,” ** But it’s easier to keep out than it is ter git out,” declared the old man, ** It’s about which and t’other fer odds,” said Billy. ‘It’s jest impossible ter keep out, and it has allus been about impossible fer ’em ter keep mein. I’magame chicken, and I manage ter come down on my feet somehow,” ‘*Well, I hope nothin’ will happen to ye, anyhow.” ** So do I, and that’s straight.” ** But, come,” cried Skinny. breakfast? in my life.” “ft would be funny if you wasn’t,” declared Billy. ‘I never did see such a glutton as you have got to be, Skin. You'll make your mother a pauper when you strike New York.” **Oh, no, I guess not. Ill be filled up by that time. But, lam as hungry now as two bears and a cub, and somethin’ has got to be done, If breakfast ain’t ready I’m going to make love to the cook, that’s all,” And he was evidently in earnest, too, for he upfastened the door and went out and down. Billy and the ranger had a little talk, and fol- lowed, The breakfast was not ready, and, sure enough, Skinny was seen coming from the di- rection of the kitchen with a big slice of bread in his hands, The trio entered the bar-room, where the pro- prietor, Murtagh Kenyons, was behind the bar, ready to serve the early birds of the camp to the best of his ability in bis line, “¢ Good-mornin’!” he greeted, All responded, and he motioned Billy to ap- proach, “What is it?” the New York delegate in- quired, as he stepped forward to the rude bar. “Jest a word of warnin’, that’s all,” was the low-spoken answer, ‘‘ Blue-band Bart is going to make trouble of some sort for yon and your friends. I haven't got on to jest what it is, but you must look out for him.” **Much obliged to you for the pointer,” an- swered Billy. “I shall try to keep my eye on him, and see that he don’t get the bulge on me too bad. I have an idea he isa bad man, when he means business, and no doubt he has no love for me, after last night’s little rumpus.” ** Not a bit of love fer ye,” ‘* Well, I'll keep my eye skinned for him, and maybe if he picks me up for a cotton ball he'll drop me for a prickly pear. I’m not afraid of him, and he can’t do me any harm unless he does the sneak act,” , With that Billy turned again to his partners, telling them what had been said, “Jest as I told you,” sighed the old ranger. ‘Lad, you will have ter be keerful, mighty keerful, By dad you will!” Nothing was seen of the rampant bully, and “ What about I’m ag near starved as I ever was Broadway Billy’s Business. nothing was heard from him till some time after breakfast, when Billy and bis two ‘* pards” were standing out in front of the Home Sweet Home taking a survey of the camp, While they were standing there, talking in low tones, trying to get through their heads something of the mystery of the previous night, the bully was seen coming toward them, in com- pany with a score or more of others about of bis own stripe. He came up with a swaggering air, and when near at hand, stopped suddenly and pointed a finger at Billy, saying: a Thar! Thar, Jedge Lynch, is ther young thief!” With a single bound the sturdy, agile youth had covered the space between himself and the burly rascal, and his fist smacked him panately upon the nose with a blow bard enough to topple him over and lay him out on his back. ‘*-Yes, Judge Lynch,” Billy retorted; ‘* and there’s the galoot that called me the name,” Billy now had his revolvers ready, and there was a defiant, what-are-you-going-to-do-about- it look upon his face. ‘*The personage addressed as *‘ Judge Lynch” was a worse-looking wretch by far than Blue- hand Bart, ‘“‘What did yer do that fer?” he fiercely de- manded, ‘* No need to ask that,” answered Billy. ‘' You heard what he called me, didn’t you?” ** Yas, I heerd; an’ I reckon it will go hard with yer, too, Blue-hand knowed what he was talkin’ about, I opine.” “Then do you mean to back up what he said?” demanded Billy. ‘If you want some of the same, walk right up and get it. I may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb, I suppose,” ‘Best go slow, lad, best go slow,” Roger the Rover cautioned, edging to the frout, his hand on a weapon, ‘ Thar must be some mis- take, my son, an’ mebby ther gentleman will *splain when hegits up. Don’t do nothin’ rasb.” ** No mistake on my part,” cried Billy, ‘‘ He called me a thief, and there he is, No mistake about it,” Blue-hand Bart was getting upon: his feet by- this time, and was bellowing like an angry bull, He was called ‘‘ Blae-hand” from the fact that his right hand was blue—have we mentioned it before? It had the appearance of having been burned with powder at some time or other in his career, “No; an’ thar’s no mistook about what I called him, nuther!” be cried. ‘ Put up that ‘ar weepin’, you young cub, till I take ye in hand an’ break ye in two. And by ther Harry I mean ter do it, tool” “Come right on and begin,” Billy invited. “This is a funeral of your own beginning, and it will be one of your own finishing—in the role of corpse, if you don’t keep your distance, This left hand of mine is a trifle nervous, and the finger is as likely to joggle the trigger as not,” The cowardly knave recoiled a little, Whether it was Billy’s keen eyes, or whether the weapons, would have been hard to say, for while he knew the danger lay in the weapons, yet his eyes were upon Billy’s, ‘ify The old ranger looked: admiringly upon his young ‘pard,” but it could be seen that he was exceedingly anxious as to what would be the outcome, Skinny stood, at Billy’s side, ready to draw in his defense, if it came to a fight, Few secends had been consumed, so far, “You is likely ter be hanged fer somethin’ ‘tirely different Ye either a sheep or a lamb,” the fellow dubbed Judge Lynch declared. “* Well, let’s hear what’s the charge, then,” Billy demanded, ‘You seem to have hatched up some sort of a riffle against me, Spit it out, and let’s hear the whole thing,” - *“ An’it’s not only you, but yer pards thar, too,” the ruffian went on. ‘“Yer hasn't nothin’ ergainst me, that Ill vow,” asserted the old ranger. A ib up an’ make per charge, Blue-hand Bart,” Judge Lynch called. ‘I kin open court heur jest as well as anywhar else,” , “Ther charge are,” cried the bully, who was burning with desire to be revenged upon Billy, ‘“‘that these heur fellers is thieves, an’ mebby hoss-thieves, ther wu’st kind. On them ’ar sad- dles what they has got, under ther flaps, is ther brand an’ mark of a Texas rancher, Bring ’em out an’ look fer yerselves!” CHAPTER VIII. BILLY’S GIGANTIC CONTRACT, iene ae Briu.y paled slightly in spite of Imsell, Well he knew that every word was true, re- garding the marks upon thesaddles, They bore the brand of the Millwall Ranch, Readers will remember that, upon their leay- ing Texas, Billy and Skinny had each been pre- sented with a horse and trappings, and these were the saddles. It was not at all likely that the brand had ever been thought of. **What has yer got ter say ter that?’ the ruffianly Judge Lynch cried. ‘Tt is straight, as straight as a string,” an- swered Billy, coolly. “What did I tell yer!” yelled Blue-hand, ‘‘Ther cusses desarves ter be roped right up, blast ’em!” ‘*'Yas! Yas!” So yelled the lackeys who had come with the bully and the judge. ** No hoss-thieves allowed in this heur camp!” ‘* Let’s string ’em right up, old one and young tergether! That's ther easiest way ter settle it,” ** Don’t let your kite fly away with you,” cau- tioned Billy, in his steady way. ‘‘It may not be us easy as you think for. If you doubt ‘t, try it on. Here’s cold lead waiting for you, if you do.’ ‘*But yer is guilty,” insisted the judge, ‘* yer has owned to it; an’ in course yer orter hang. Don’t see fer my part how yer kin raise any rea- sonable ’bjections ter it. Drop them thar wee- pins, now, an’ let us git ther nasty business over with soon’s we kin.” Billy laughed heartily at this—could not help it It struck him as being about the most ridicu- lous thing he had ever heard in his life, ‘‘ Well, that takes the loaf,” he deciared, ** Couldn’t raise any reasonable objections to be- ing banged, eh? And as to owning that I ama thief—nary! Those saddles, with horses in them, were given to us when we set out from Texas. And we can prove it, too, if it comes to that,” ‘* How can you prove it?” ‘** You can satist'y yourselves by writing to the man whose brand you have seen on the saddles.” ** Oh, thunder, that would take too long. We wants ter do this business right up brown, We don’t "low no case tar spile on our hands, an’ this one might, yer know, We wants ther proof right here an’ now.” ‘*Bet yer life we does!” echoed the bully. * Yer has got ter clear yerselyes of ther charge, or up ye goes,” ‘Yes, I see us going, fast,” sneered Billy, ‘* What Billy says is jest ther truth,” put in Skinny. s Vos,” added the old ranger, ‘‘ and I kin aver that ther lads had hosses when I fell in with’em, an’ that two whiter lads I never met in all me wanderin’s.” ‘¢Then whar is them same hosses now?” cried Blue-hand, ‘ “They were stolen from us several nights ago,” answered Billy. ‘¢ Ha, ha, haw!” the bully laughed. ‘ Them’s a likely story, them is. Why wasn’t ther sad- dles tooken, too?” ‘+ Now jest let me put in my leetle say right heur,” quickly took up the old ranger, ‘J was with ther lads when that happened, an’ I know all about it. They was tooken off by @ party o’ Injuns, an’ one o’ them same Injuns kem ter his end bya bullet from my oJd gun, That Pilsw’ar ’ ‘* There you have it, straight,” declared Billy, ‘** But wouldn’t they Jie for each other?” cried Blue-hand, ‘Course they would, an’ that’s what they is doin’, Now I hev give ye ther proof, fellers, an’ it is your business ter see that they is hanged, ’thout any p’laver about it,” ‘And it’s my business to see that I don’t get hanged,” chipped in Billy, ‘‘Ican make it in- teresting for some of you, if youtry iton, There will be some vacant lodges in this howling wil- derness, and don’t you forget it, You are about the worst set of p’izen cut-throats that I ever en- countered.” Billy’s ‘“‘mad” was up, and he little cared what he said. ) “We'll show you!” screamed the smarting bully, whose nose had swollen to half again its natural size. ‘‘How many is in favor of their swingin’, boyees?” *¢ All of us!” cried a voice in the gang. *6Yas! Yas!” : ‘Well, then, go ahead with the job,” Billy in- vited. But there was the rub. Billy and his partners looked to be a bristly trio to tackle, and there was an awkward pause. Now by this time quite a crowd had gathered around, and among the lot, many who rather sided with the boys and their old friend. And
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Broadway Billy’s Business. among these was one man whose appearance Billy rather liked. This was a young man of twenty-eight or so, with a clear, bold face, and keen, blueeyes. He was neatly clad, and was far ahead of any other ersonage in the crowd ia personal appearance, e had been there but a moment, and now he let his voice be heard. ‘Seems to me you are pushing things rather _hard here, are you not?” he asked. ‘* What's that ter you, Phil Danfort?” So retorted Blue-hand Bart. ‘* Oh, nothing in particular,” was the easy re- ply, ‘* but it looks to me as if you want to send these fellows off with a grand rush,” ‘* Jest what we intend ter do,” was the retort. ‘* They is thieves, an’ we has got’em dead ter rights, an’ we is goin’ ter give ’em what they desarves, Now don’t meddle with what ain’t none of yer business.” ‘*Tf it isn’t my business, whose is it?’ Danfort asked, ‘‘The young fellows and their old pard don’t seem to have any friends among you, so I think I'l] make it my business. Young man, what do you say to this charge?” Billy rattled off a true and straight account of himself, Skinny and their old friend, so far as was needful, and wound up with the defiant as- sertion that he was innocent and would like to see any one try to hang him when he had his spurson, If any one did, there would be music aboard, that was all. Danfort admired him, from that minute. ‘You have made a mistake this time, boys, that is plain,” he protested. ‘‘ The only thing for ou to do is to drop it right here and now, and eave them alone, If you do not, somebody is going to get hurt, for you can see for yourselves that the lad means business,” ‘* But what business has he got ter say he is in- nercent when we know he ain’t?’ the brainy Judge Lynch cried. ‘*There ig this much about it,” retorted the young man, bis anger visibly rising. ‘‘ Every man is innocent till you prove him guilty. Bring on your proof, and then we shall see about it. The crowd had continued to increase, and rap- idly within the last few minutes, till now Blue- hand and his gang were sadly in the smaller half. Sentiment was largely in favor of the trio of strangers, and Blue-hand’s little game was easily understood, What he was after was revenge, and this was the way he hoped to get it, but his hope was vain, “Waal, if we can’t hang him, then,” he bawled, ‘‘ 1 want ter have my saterfaction out ©’ him fer this belt he gev me on ther snoot, = ain’t goin’ ter git off ’ithout that, you kin et. ‘What! Did he put that swelling on your nose?” . “‘That’s what I did,” cried Billy, “and I can finish the job for him, too, if he is so hungry for it. He has pusbed things till be has got my Dutch up, and I'd as lieve take a whaling at his bands as not. I need taming, and need it bad, too, or I am going to harm myself—or some- hoy else. 2 All this was not bluster, but was said so ney. and in so droll a way that it raised a augh, Broadway Billy’s appearance was deceptive. His face was so boyish that the breadth of his shoulders and the span of his arm were points usually lost sight of. “You don’t mean you would fight him, do you?” Danfort asked, amazed. . ‘* Why, yes, if he is aching so to get at me,” i ‘Haw! the bully brayed, one single, loud ray. ‘Why, sonny, I’d take za over my knee so suddent that you would think you was in ther claws of yer schoolmarm ergain,” ‘* And do you mean to say that you would fight with such a youth as this, Blue-hand Bart, you great big man-eater?” asked the young man, scathingly. “Wouldn't fight him, naw!” sneered the Man- eater with a drawl ‘But I would. like ter spank him wunst, jest ter teach him manners, I'd ’a’ done it last night, only that he got ther drop.” ‘* And that’s the same reason why you didn’t hang me now, eh?” laughed Billy. Danfort had turned bis eyes upon Billy again, and was inspecting him with an eye to what chance he had with the giant, “I'd like to see it, if I thought the lad had any chance against you,” he declared, ‘** No, no,” opposed the old ranger, “it won’t do! You would git hurt, boyee, and I won't staud by an’ see it,” Te eg eer Eas had! PoE ONE A as > Nie baie ON A el ee : **T don’t know about that,” spoke up, Skinny, bravely. ‘‘He has called us a set of thieves, Rover, and I’d like ter see Billy dab him jest one more fer it.” “And Pll do it!” Billy cried. ‘If I get the worst of it, that’s my business and nobody’s blame. But it is only on coxdition that lam assured fair play. That is all I ask.” , ““And that you shall have,” promised Dan- ort, With the promise, he drew a revolver and covered the ruffianly gang with it. Billy had caught his eye, and had read therein that in him he had a backer who would stand by him, so he lowered his own weapons and handed them to Skinny. “Give up your weapons,” he cried, ‘and then come for me, you great, big, raw-boned, hairy elephant, you! Oome for me, aad if you can add injury to insult, Pll take it and never squeal,” Now Billy knew one thing, or believed he did, and that—that he must not allow the giant to close with him. He did not have enough confidence in his strength to think he was equal to that, and wisely, too. But he did believe that he could whip the manin a fair stand-up fight, and he meant to do it if he could. He remembered many and many a. fight in which he had come out best man, and but few in which he had been conquered. That he knew how to use nature’s weapons need not be urged, The chances were that the man, with years and hardened muscle in his favor, would whip bim, a if he did it would not be without a brisk ef- ort, Now the crowd was all alive with suppressed excitement, and the great event of the season, this fight between man and boy, was not to be missed, Shouting spread the news rapidly, and the few denizens who had not already added their presence to the crowd were soon drawn there, until nearly every man in the camp was on hand. And by that time the two antagonists were ready to begin business, CHAPTER IX, ALL ABOUT THE BIG FIGHT, ‘“SwEET pertaters!” Billy ejaculated, in low tone, as he was saying a last word to Skinny, ‘Pm afraid I am in for it, little pard, and that’s the fact.” ‘* And it would serve you right, to get a good drubbing,” Skinny declared. “It might teach ou to oe your lip more to yourself hereafter, ot that [ want to see it, for I want you to close that rummy wretch’s eyes for him before he knows what is the matter with Hannah.” “Come younker, come to yer pop an’ take yer spankin’,” now sung out the big bully. ‘All right, dad! Here I am,” Billy cheer- fully responded, and be turned and faced his man, “Hold. on just a minute now,” spoke up Danfort, ‘I feel responsible for this thing, in a way, and I want to have a word to say about ‘* Waal, say yer say, an’ be quick about it,” the bully invited, “Tt is simply this—” He paused as if to frame some condition of the i that he wanted to put in just the right shape, “Waal, spit it out!” the Man-eater impatient- ly insisted, ‘‘I want ter spank ther kid while my band is warm fer ther job. What is yer say? ‘Itis this: You are big enough to whip half a dozen lads such as this one, and—” ‘* Bet yer life on’t!” “Save your wind and bear me out. You are the biggest of the two, and this quarrel seems to be yours, Now, if you whip the lad, that must settle the whole business for good and all, And on the other hand, if he whips you, that must satisfy you, Now, what do you say?” The man laughed at the idea of his getting whipped, “Why, I’gree to it!” he cried, ‘If I spank ther baby, that’s al) I want ter do, an’ ’ll bother him nary more, And if he Jicks me—haw, haw, haw! Jf he licks me, then I'll pull in my horns and sneak off like ary cur, an’ he kin be boss of ther camp. That’s all,” ‘* And in that case you won’t trouble him any more,” ‘*Nary atime more.” _ ‘Very good. Men, you have heard this, and itis for you to keep him to bis word, My private opinion is that he is going to get whipped neatly,” ; The bully looked quickly at the speaker, as did * nearly every one else. : - / accordingly. ‘* Yer don’t mean no tricks?” he demanded. ‘“No tricks,” he was assured, ‘unless your a has some that you are not acquainted with. Billy had not.failed to impress the young man by his coolness with something of the confidence he felt, and Danfort was in earnest in what he said. ‘“*Waal, then, clear ther track!” the bully bellowed, ‘‘Heur comes yer pop, my pink- cheeked laddy, an’ you is goin’ ter git blistered whar ye set down, you kin bet on it. Come rigbt heur, now, till I warm ye up.” ‘* Right here [ am,” retorted Billy, facing him with his hands wellup. ‘‘ Wade rightin, pop, and do yer fatherly duty. I’m sp’ilin’ fer a dose o’ shingle, I know, au’ I think it would do mea heap of good, Put it on fer everlastin’, when ye go at it.” ‘An’ I'am goin’ at it now.” Billy’s youthful, rosy face, and the other’s as bearded and shaggy as a lion’s, made it seem ridiculous, But it was not quite so uneven a match as it looked to be. Billy had youth and more than its usual degree of activity, to offset the other’s years and muscle, With his words, the bully reached out, in an over-confident way, meaning to lay hold of Billy by the collar, jerk bim around and almost dislocate his neck, and then apply the spanking he had threatened. - But he met with a sudden check, Spat | It was Billy’s fist that met his nose for the second time, and this time the ‘‘ claret” gushed forth in a stream, while the man staggered back completely dazed for the second, j The crowd broke into one wild cheer, and Blue-hand Bart fairly boiled over. As soon as he could recover his balance, and anything like recover his dazed ideas, he rushed forward with a whoop, and ill it might have fared with Billy had he got hold of him, but— Spat! Spat! It was ove plump fist after the other, in quick succession, and right in the eye, each one, To the lookers-on it seemed no more than play for Billy to brush away the big, brawny arms, and plant his blows where he would, And it was little more, in truth, The rush was so wild and ignorant, that it was the fairest kind of an opening for the lad, Billy was a boxer, as we know, and it did his heart good to get in such complete work as this at the very outset. \ The battle was now his, and he was happy His spirits fairly bubbled over, and he could not resist some taunting cries, ‘Sweet pertaters!” be called out. ‘* What’s ther matter, pop? What makes ye act so funny about it? Why don’t ye take me over yer knee as ye promised ter do? You know I need some stirrup oil, and so do J know it, so why don’t you put it on? Come, try it again, an’ mebb you'll have better luck next time, Ha, ha, ha!” And the crowd laughed with him, __ “Sock it to him!” cried Skinny, clapping bis hands, and acting like a crazy sseieton, though it was not to be denied that he now had more flesh than he had ever had before, ‘“Yas! Yas! Give him all he wants of it, my son,” encouraged the old ranger, “By dad, but I never thought it wasin ye! You are ther dandy boy of ther hull school, and that’s what I’m ready ter stand up an’ fight fer! Go fer him, an’ give him all he are eechin’ fer. Haw, haw, haw!” And the crowd whooped and whistled and | chirped, clapping bands and cat-calling and making all manner of noise and sport, The bully? Oh, yes, he was there. He was oping about half-blinded and worse confused, Bellowing and bawling like a wounded rhinoceros, wild! averring what he would do to pay up for all | this. ‘‘Here I am, dad, right this way,” called Billy. ‘‘Be careful how you come, though, or you wi'l bump your head again. You must have ’em in yer boots, haven’t you? Here is the office, right here, and the captain is in. Step right up and: knock at the door, and you will get a warm reception.” ‘* Pll resepshun yer!” was the bellow. ‘Tl rip yer backbone ont of yer kerkiss an’ change it inter a snake! Ill cut yer heart out an’ tie it around yer neck! Ill dangle yer liver on my lodge-pole! [’Jl—” “Hold on, hold on!” Billy cried. ‘I object to any such doin’s as that, In the name of hu- mavity I must refuse ter lend my body fer any such diabolical dissection as that, old hoss. You
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can’t do it; you can’t practice any such surgical monstrosities on me, and [ll make it my busi- ness to see that you don’t!” Blue-hand was at him again by this time, and Billy found he had harder work to do, Now the man was a Man-eater indeed, His nature was that of an enraged beast, and any of the things he had threatened would not have been too bad for him to carry out, had be but the chance, vag Danfort was hanging near, on the lookout for Na any danger to Billy’s life, did the man get the better of him. Blow after blow the giant rained at Billy, as hard and fast as he could, but not one could he make to take effect in the place he aimed at. Billy was never in the same spot for more than half a second at a time. Knocking the blows aside in a way that proved his skill as a master of fistic art, he pranced around the angered man in the most taunting way imaginable, and his talk never ceased for a moment, while his droll sayings kept the crowd in a constant uproar. Vind Canyon Camp had never had anything like this to happen within its limits, It wasa wak- ing-up such as it had never experienced. And the power of the cheering went to prove that few there were troubled with lack of lung force, ‘‘ Sweet pertaters!” Billy cried, ‘‘ but this is old times come again once more, sure pop. It reminds me of the way I used to polish off some of the Broadway kids; hey, Skinny? Only there was more fight in some of those little boys, and it was more interestin’, Why, pop, you ain’t gettin’ tired? This is no fun at all for the crowd, and I’m afraid they’ll want their money back, % Come, now, liven up a bit, and see if you can’t vit Ned do something for the rising generation, It will aera N.S never do ter give it up so Mister Brown!” “‘Cuss yer, stop yer talkin’ an’ stay fer a second whar I kin reach ye!” the man cried, in " his baffled rage, and he was fairly frothing at f the mouth. ‘‘Once let me Jay hands on ye, an’ by ther sun, moon and stars if I don’t pull ye limb from limb ye kin do ther same ter me!” ‘But it’s my business ter see that yer don’t git ther chance,” cried Billy. ‘‘The bargain was that you were only to spank me, but if you are goin’ to put on all the extra trimmin’s you bave promised, I must refuse to comply with mr your polite request. I think it’s about time I Cee rap gave you a winder-up, don’t you?” bia ‘* Yas, paste him!” was the cry. al? “Tf yer hit me ergain, by dogs Dll kill yer!” ; Mr. Blue-hand screamed. ‘I won’t stand it!” ‘Well, go and lie down to it then,” cried Billy. ; _ With his words, there being at that instant a © splendid opening for a blow, he sent in a lifter, i; taking the man on the chest and almost carrying “att him off his feet, and down he went, all in a - oF heap. r And at that the crowd just let itself out and Rat te whooped its wildest, ; . ag = It looked as though this was the end, but it a ae ‘was not quite, for the man had one more effort "1 to make. ~ ae He floundered around in the dust for a few Ae seconds, screaming, swearing and crying—fact! ie and presently got himself together so that be i could get up. nd then, with a horrible threat, i he jerked a concealed knife from the leg of his mies, 9 bootand made a murderous rush upon bis nim- Ds . bans ble antagonist, ‘ ae ie But Billy had by this time too many friends “4 , in the crowd for anything of this sort to succeed, and in a moment a dozen hands were laid upon the man and he was dragged away, while the erowd pressed around Billy, everybody eager to rasp his hand—that is, everybody save the fol- ower of the vanquished bully, who, with dark scowls on their faces, went off to doctor up their - disabled hero, . ae | ag CHAPTER X. MISSING: TILLY, THE BARBER, “i As soon as the enthusiastic crowd would per- me it, Billy allowed himself to be led away by the young man, Phil Danfort, Skinny and the old ranger followed, and all ~*~ BGs saa were conducted to the office of a mine—the Gold a > ae Drift Mine, of which Danfort was superin- Fr tendent. And once there, Billy was glad to stake a chair and rest. f ay “Sweet pertaters! but that was something of scrimmage, wasn’t it?’ he exclaimed, Sane 2" “It was the best thing I have seen for many & <2 day,” declared Danfort, ‘It did my heart good es. x to see you do that fellow up so. But, you will ; Sas have to look out for him now, for he will get + a) even with you if he can; he’s a great ruffian! ‘That wasn’t ’cordin’ ter ’greement,” reminded F the ranger. “He won't care anything for that. If he can Broadway Billy’s Business. give oe a stab in the back, my lad, he'll do it,” was Danfort’s idea, ‘Then it’s the business of this camp to see that he don’t get no chance ter do anything of that sort, while we are here,” put in Skinny. ‘© You mustn’t allow Billy to git burt.” ‘* And it’s my business to see that he gets no chance to get the drop on me,” supplemented Billy. ‘‘ And P’ve got more business here, too, and maybe he will come in for a share of that, I hope he will, anyhow, for he looks like a third- rate villain, and it would do me good to put a ring in his nose.” ‘© What is your other buginess here?” inquired Danfort, carelessly. “T don’t know what it is, yet, but thar’s a Yizen diffikilty of some sort a-brewin’, and [ 5 degre it, and you can bet your hat that Broad- way Billy don’t set around with his legs crossed when there’s a diffikilty to be straightened up, Say, do you know a feller called Death-face?” “Yes: he was in the crowd with Blue-hand Bart,” Danfort answered. ‘“* What sort of customer is he?” ‘About the same as Blue-hand, feather flock together, you know.” ‘“¢- Yes; and there’s a p’izen flock of ’em in this camp, too. [Pm going to wake up the echoes here, before I make my exit, if I don’t muchly mistake; and [I don’t think I do,” ‘* You seem to have got hold of something. What is it?” “‘T told youl don’t know,” reminded Billy. ‘‘But [do know that there is a skeem of some sort of deviltry going on. Another question— Who lives in that shanty next to Queen Anne Saloon, other side?” ss Why, that is where Blue-hand hangs up his hat. ‘‘Sweet pertaters! You don’t say so! Then I have gota poker in the fire for him, sure as sin. Forgetting his tired feeling in an instant, Billy sprung up and executed what he called a ** pigeon wing” in the middle of the office floor, with all his boyish vim, das “Say, what are you driving at, anyhow?” asked Danfort. “Give it up,” was Billy’s reply, ‘‘ but you can rely on it that I mean business right from the corner. Don’t know what it is yet, but it’s Broadway Billy’s business to find out, and then there will be a circus, I’m thinkin’.” ** You taJk in riddles, my young friend, that is certain,” : “He never talks anything else,” asserted Skinny. : “ Skinny,” Billy turned upon him reproving- ly, ‘“‘don’t be disrespectful. And don’t you talk much any way. You'll create more ap- petite, if you do, and that will mean increased rates at the hotel,” : ‘* Yow won’t have to pay it, anyhow,” Skinny declared, ‘“‘ By the way, Mr. Danfort, haven’t got a scales here, have you? I want to weigh this stack of bones— Ha! so you have. Right this way Skinny, and we'll see how you tip the am, Birds of a There was a platform scales in one corner of the office, and catching hold of the lean lieuten- ant Billy dragged him to it. Skinny got on, and Billy proceeded to weigh him, playfully beginning at five pounds, and working up a pound at atime as though he ex- pected the next would surely hit the figure, “Great ginger!” Skinny cried, when he had reached sixteen pounds, and was moving to the seventeen notch, don’t you think I weigh any more than that?” and with a.knock he sent the balance to the end of the beam. ‘* Sweet pertaters!” Billy cried, when the beam did not tip at that, ‘‘Js it you, Skinny?” There was more of this pleasant jesting, and finally Skinny’s correct weight was told. He weighed eleven pounds more than he had ever weighed in his life! : “Skinny, I congratulate you!” cried Billy, grasping his hand, ‘‘ Lay ona few pounds more, and you will save me heaps of worry and ex- nse. You see,” turning to the others to explain, ‘he has always been so thin that his bones wore holes in his blanket faster than I could keep ’em darned.” F Skinny stepped off the sales with a feeling of pride he could not conceal. It was an immense satisfaction to him to find that he was gaining in weight, and he hoped to be able to come up to Billy’s own avoirdupois, Even while thus jesting and playing, Billy was not idle in deeper thinking. He was considering whether or not to make a confidant of Danfort regarding the event of the night. He had made one point of progress in the case, if it was a case—and it was his business to find out about that, and that was, that his enemy, Blue-hand, was concerned in it, Having about made up his mind to tell the young.mine superintendent about it, he was on the point of doing so when another young man burst suddenly into the office, He was about the age of Danfort, and bis face had an excited expression. He had been on the point of exclaiming as be dashed in, but seeing others there besice Danfort, checked bimself. ‘*What is it, Champion?’ Danfort asked quickly. “Have you heard?” was the question. ‘* Heard what?” ** About Tilly the Barber.” Danfort showed keen interest in an instant, as Billy was quick to see. ** No; what about her?” he cried. . ‘* She’s missing. Men are beginning to loo all over for her.’ “The deuce yousay! Thatisstrange, Hasn’t she been seen this morning?” Danfort had clapped on bis hat, and was mov- ing toward the door, Whoever this ‘‘ Tilly the Barber” was, he had interest in her, ‘* Nobody has seen her,” he was told, “That beats the deuce, Whereis Bob Par- son? Is he around?” ‘Yes; and he is in a stew about it. He is—” Another personage entered the office in haste, and without paying any attention to anything, faced Danfort, demanding: ‘* Phil Danfort, where is that girl?” Broadway Billy was alive with interest now. In an unexpected way things seemed to be working around to throw some light upon the mystery of the night, e noted that Danfort had turned ra ered ale, that he looked excited, and was gled the interruption had come in time to prevent his telling him what he knew. It was possible that he had had a hand in the business. ** Don’t you know wheie she is?” was the coun- ter-demand, “Thunder, no!” the retort. ie what brought you to me, thinking I q You know well encugh why, Phil Danfort. Because you have been heard tosay that no man should marry her but you.” At this Danfort smiled. ‘¢ Tt is about an even thing between us, then,” he declared. ‘* You have said about the same thing. In fact, you have warned me to keep off, as you considered you had the best claim there.” ‘ Billy was getting light. . “Rivals in love, hey?” he interrogated in mind, ‘ There’s something behind all this, and I’m betting my socks on it, Willyum, itis your business ter find out what it is,” ; ‘‘Then you swear you don’t know anything about where-she is?” insisted the excited new- comer ! Yes, I swear that [ don’t know anything about her, Bob Parson,” was the firm hy a “Tf she is gone, missing, let us make it our bus- inoss to find her. We are rivals, but in such a matter as this it is to our interest to work to- gether. After we have found the prize, then we will resume our fighting,” This was with a poor attempt at humor. “Just what [ was going to propose,” declared Parson, ‘‘The idea hit me that you had stole a march on me and run the girl off, but since you swear that you have not, of course that set- tles it, Come, let’s hustle and see what is to be done. We must hustle.” And with that, the man turned and was gone, ‘*Who is this Bob Parson?” asked Billy, as soon as he was out of the room, ‘A sort of card sport who bas been hang- ing up here for some months,” was the reply. “ And who is this Tilly, who seems to have turned up missing this morning? It is informa- tion Iam after, you see.” ‘‘ Why, sbe is a neat and pretty young woman who came hers seme weeks ago and opened a barber-shop. Her name is Tilly Wood, but we all call her Tilly the Barber,” ‘‘T begin ter see, said the blind man, but he ~ lied. Now if you didn’t run her off, as Parson puts it, and if he didn’t do it himself then the question is, who did?” Yes, that’s the question.” «« Any other lover in the field?” J ‘No one for whom she has shown any frendli- ” “Then there must be a dark horse in the race, Couldn’t be the work of this Death- face, or Blue-hand, or any of their gang, think | you?” y aty g
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*. as i esas g ye ee | z >. 10 ‘*They’re none too good for it, but what would be their object?” ‘Give it up. That is for you to say. I’m a pilgrim and a stranger here, you know,” ‘But this isn’t finding her, or any clew to her whereabouts,” exclaimed Danfort. “ You'll have to excuse me; I’m off to see what is to be learned about this thing. Will see you again.” And leaving them in possession of the offiee, he dashed out and hurried off in the direction of the camp center. ** Here’s a pretty mess,” sung Billy, as soon as he was gone. ‘‘ This is the second chapter in the mystery of last night, pards. What do you think of it? Seems to me that we' must take a hand in this game of hide-and-go-seek, and see if we cain’t find the button. And by button I mean the aforementioned Tilly the Barber.” CHAPTER XI. BILLY FILES A CLAIM, Bitty was for guing out immediately to gather up points, but his old ranger friend de- tained him. ‘* My son,” he said, * lend year ter jest a word that I have ter whisper to ye. I have gota older head on my shoulders than you have on yours.” Billy immediately took off his hat, clapped it under his arm, and stood by in respectful atten- tion, waiting to bear whatever was coming, and he expected nothing short of another well-meant lecture. « He was not mistaken. ‘* My son,” said the old man, ‘‘ your life is in danger here, and I have been a-thinkin’ that ther best thing we kin do is to pack up and be on our way while we are all safe. There would be nothin’ cowardly about that, ye know.” ** Mebby not,” spoke Billy, ‘‘Sartainly not,” urged the ranger. ‘' You have made eneinies of the very wu’st men in the camp, and they would not hesertate a tall ter drop ye with a bullet on ther sly, if chance of- fered, day or night. You can’t deny that it ain’t safe fer you ter be seen around, after ther way you polished off that hairy monster,” ‘* That’s logic,” Billy quietly assented. ** But you don’t mean ver heed it, I kin see it in yer eyes,” the old man cried in impatience. **'You are rash, my son, rash—rash !” ‘It's a weakness I’ve got,” sighed Billy. “Tm not responsible fer it, I was born so, And you have hit it right when you say that I don’t mean to scare off; I am not built that way. “Then you mean ter stay heur and take ther risk?” “You hit it right again,” the lad declared. “* Sweet beng re you don’t begin to know me, Rover; does he Skinny! Why, when the fever gets hold of me it bangs on like death to a nig- ger, as the sayin’ has it. You couldn’t drive me away from here with a club, and that’s the fact. But at the same time there is no denyin’ the fact that I had better be carryin’ an umbrella as some sort of protection against stray bullets,” Skinny was grinning from ear to ear, but the old ranger was too much concerned to permit a smile to appear on his face. “There is no joke about this,” he declared, **' You had better take it ia a serious way, my son, These men are none to good to murder ye in cold blood—the way that coward went fer ye with his knife prot that—and if you take my advice you will keep mighty shady.” ** Tell you what I’ll do,” proposed Billy, sober- ly. ‘Skinny here bas often told me that I am all mouth. Pll open it wide when we go out, and then nobody wil] see me—unless Skinny bas fictionized about it, But, honest Injun ‘now, Rover, there is no use your sayin’ a word about my goin’ away, for it won’t do a bit of good, Here I am going to stay till my business is done; 80 the next best thing is for you and Skin to act as my body-guard.” The old ranger sighed, ‘* Waal, I s'pose we'll have ter do this,” he said. ‘But you mustn’t try ter deny that old Roger warned ye.” * Wouldn’t think of it, Rover, And now let’s go fer p’ints—ter say nothin’ about quarts and pecks, Here is a mystery, and one that has got ter be sifted, Come along, pards,” ry oid on his hat, he stepped to the door and ou The moment he did so he stopped short with an exclamation, Just passing the office, and heading for the center of the camp, was a man with a drove of ten or twelve horses, : There would have been nothing so very sur- Broadway Billy’s Business. prising in that alone, but Billy’s quick eye noted the fact that the horse the man was riding was his—Billy’s own—missing animal. Billy drew back before being discovered, and popped the others, ** Look there!” he exclaimed, pointing. “Your hosses, by ther battle o’ Gittysburg!” the old ranger exclaimed, ‘*Great ginger! so they are!” echoed Skinny. “You can bet your merry whiskers, Rover. that Broadway Billy has got business here now ? Billy cried. ‘‘ You couldn’t draw me away with a team o’ mules, We're going to have our own, Skinny, or we are going to rupture a buckle trying to get it. We don’t leave here without our horses, and that settles it, flat.” There was tbe ring of business in his vow. The man who had the animals was a rough, hard-looking fellow, clad asa cowboy. He was perhaps forty years of age, and wore a fierce, bristly mustache of wonderful size, while the rest of his face was covered with a month’s growth of stubble, He rode on toward the hotel, his other horses in tow, and with his broad hat stuck up in front in a defiant air, There was no denying the thought that struck Billy—that he was a bad man—and one in waom the lads might find a tough enemy to deal with. It was safe to conclude that be would not give the horses up unless forced to do so, and it looked like a big undertaking to try to make him do it. But Billy did not allow these thoughts to discourege him, ‘*He’s a bad one, Skinny,” he remarked, “butright is right, every time,” “Youwre right, he’s bad,” echoed Skinny. “Tt strikes me we are going to bave a serious job getting our horses away from him.” ** And, too,” said the ranger, “‘if he is one of the fellers that stole ’em, he will reckernize us, no doubt. S'pose we foller bim up an’ see what ther effeck will be on him.” ‘*Not a bad idea,” agreed Billy. ‘* We bad better file our claim while the discovery is fresh, anyhow. Tli do the chin-wagging act, if you will stand ready to back me up,” They emerged from the office and crossed the flat in the direction of the hotel, only a little distance behind tbe drover. ‘* Whoa!” the latter sung out, when he drew rein. ‘* Hello!” from one of the idlers around. ‘‘ It’s Texas Sid got back ergain?” ‘**' Yas, back ergain,” the horseman answered, taking off his hat and wiping his forehead with his hand, “And with a purty pert lot o’ hosses, too,” remarked another in the group. ** As good a lot as I ever fetched in, boyees,” the drover declared, ‘‘and if any of you wants a good animile, now is yer chance ter buy.” Billy and his pards had now come up, and they passed around to the front, and as they did so Billy was keeping an eye upon the horseman to see what the effect would be when he saw them, As he finished speaking, the man glanced at them, Instantly he gave a slight start. But he was equal to the occasion, and im- mediately said: ‘‘Now is your chance, young feller, if you want a hoss, Take your pick and pay the price.” ‘I’m not buying my own property at present,” responded Billy, coolly, as he took a critical survey of the horse the man was mounted upon, ‘“*Not buyin’ yer own property!” the fellow fiercely cried. ‘*What do ye mean by that?” zt demand’ was not without a startling oath, But the effect upon cool Billy was not notice- pegs It did not seem to scare him any, to speak of. “T mean just what I say,” was his easy re- sponse, ‘I don’t know who sold you that horse you are on, sir, but I do know that the animal is my property.” ‘* And I kin swear to what ther lad says,” sup- plemented the old ranger, ‘** And I lay claim to this one,” Skinny brave- ly asserted, indicating his own. ‘* Waal, may I be chawed!” the drover cried. ‘tT reckons you is barkin’ round ther wrong stump this heur time, gents. I never buy hoss- flesh that I don’t git straight as a bee-line, an’, that’s ther way I got these.” ‘tT can’t help where you got them, or how,” declared Billy, ‘‘ we know our own horses, and we want them.” ae you’]l have ter pay ther price, that’s al ‘Are you willing to accept the proof, if wé can give it?” “Why, you darn young whelp!” with a fierce frown, ‘‘do yer mean ter insist thet I don’t know what I’m talkin’ erbout? Mebby you mean ter insinnerate thet J stole yer hosses.” ‘* No; we are not going back of the bare fact,” returned Billy. ‘‘ These two animals are ours, and we mean tohbavethem. All that is neces- . sary is for us to give the satisfactory proof, and you will have to pass them over.” “ Haw-haw! 1 see meself doin’ that now.” ‘*- You will have to see yourself doing it pretty soon, if you pretend to be a fair and square sort of man.” “* And I don’t reckon as you'll find anybody heur as will say I ain’t,” the man made his boast. This was drawing a crowd around them al- ready. ‘* When we came to this camp yesterday,” said Billy, in clear tones, ‘‘ we carried two sad- dles and bridles with us. This everybody knows. We told that we had been robbed of our horses, Now those saddles bear the same brand that these borses bear, and if that isn’t proof enough, then I'd like to know what proof you would de- mand.” ‘ It seemed clear enough, certainly, but it was not likely that it would be accepted. ‘¢ A’ what is thatar’ brand?’ the man asked. ‘What are it like?” Billy told him exactly, and the crowd forthe most part seemed satisfied. It looked like a clear Case. ‘‘ Waal, so fur so good,” drawled the man, “ Now mebby you has a bill of sale about yer clothes that will give some weight to yer yarn. If yer has that, then of course thar’ll be some use ter investergate ther case.” i *‘ Unfortunately, we haven’t,” admitted Billy. ‘““'The horses were given to us, as we have al- ready told here, and there ways no thought of any such trouble as this coming out of it.” ‘* Waal, now,” with a longer drawl, and in a tone of hidden defiance, ‘‘ Iam sorry fer ye, young fellers, real sorry, but I can’t help ye any. I got ther critters in honest trade, and can’t give ’em up on your say-so, I have no more proof that these heur hosses was yourn, tban I have that you didn’t steal ther saddles, See?” ‘* Yes, we see,” retorted Billy. ‘* Now, oneand — all, you are warned against buying these horses of thisman. I mean the two we have indicated. — They are stolen property, and we intend to prove it to you before they leave this camp. This is business, right from the corner of Business street, and don’t you forget it.” Having vo further argument to offer, he turn- oy ed away, leaving the man to gaze after hima ~ moment in silence, ih ‘* A game chicken, by darn!” he exclaimed, ‘¢ But his claim ain’t no good heur. ) hear more from him Jater. Waal, let him fetch on his proof, if he’s got any, that’s all,” pOnerer CHAPTER XII, BROADWAY BILLY BAFFLED, ; . FurtTHER down the street was another crowd, / around the shanty in front of which was a barber’s pole, ae Sail Billy led the way in this direction. He knew, of course, what was the excitement there, and wanted to learn what progress was being made in the search for the missing gir) At barber, ‘¢ We have filed our claim, anyhow,” he obsery- | ed, as they went along, ‘‘and it won’t be easy for bim to sell the horses to any honest man, that is sure. And now to see what is going on 4.8 3 here.” ‘“We know purty sartain that the scream what you heerd last night was let out by this” Ke missin’ gal,” remarked the old ranger. ‘* Ther thing ter do is ter find whar she is ’prisone and git her out.” Reckon we'll — And ter do that,” said Billy, “we have got ter have our eyes on that fellow Death-face and — his gang. I think Blue-hand will feel like keepin’ out of the race for one day at le bo ménd up. Sweet pertaters! but it makes me laugh inside whenever I think of the good luck ~ I had in pasting him.” * “You won’t laugh, if he gets one of his’ aloots ter fire some Ie BW ; } ‘‘ Wet blanket again, hey, Skinny? I thought you would drop that croakin’ as you laid meat — on yer bones, but you don’t seem to. Well, I'd — rather have you g0 home without me than to go - home myself without you, so let’er flicker.” ‘“ You need a wet blanket once in a while,” — averred Skinny. ‘‘ You git too warm altogether — 7 Oy ad inter you,” declared hy RS
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{ 1 { ea Broadway Billy’s Business. for safety, and there’s danger that you’ll explode, as gas is likely ter do—” “There, now, Skin, don’t forget that you have just got up out of a sick bed, and that a relapse might settle you.” ‘* No relapse thar,” cried the old ranger, slap- ping the lean lieutenant on the back. At the shanty all was excitement. It had not been a great while since the discoy- ery had been made that the girl barber was missing, and the camp was getting warmed up to a search for her. The discovery had been made by Bob Parson, as the boys and their old friend speedily learned, listening to the crowd, where it was being talk- ed over freely ; and he had lost no time in giving the alarm, At an early hour, about as early as the shop was usually open, he had stepped over from the Queen Anne Saloon, where he made his head- quarters, to get his regular Wednesday morning shave, but had found the shanty closed. With- out knocking, he had gone away, to come back later. It was about an hour later when he returned, and the shop was still closed. Inthe mean time others had been there, and some were standing around wondering why Tilly didn’t open for business. As it was known that she worked pretty late into the evening, however, they de- cided, after talking it over, to let her sleep and take her comfort and so preserve her roses; for she was said to be a pretty girl. When, however, at the end of another hour Parson had come back once more, and the shop was yet closed, he was alarmed, and spoke to some of the men about making an investigation. He and others had now knocked at the door several times, but had got no reply from within, and it began to look serious, They speedily came to the conclusion that something ought to be done, and so after knock- ing several times more, at both the front and rear doors, they proceeded to break their way in. Everything seemed to be in order in the rear room, which served as kitchen and sitting-room in one, small as it was, In front was the shop, and that, too, was in its usual state, There was only one room more—the bed-room —that was a little room off from the kitchen, just large enough for the smallest kind of a bed, and after some hesitation one of the men had peered in there, The bed was vacant, but had been slept in. At any rate, it was mussed as if it had, But the girl was not there, Further examination showed that she had taken her hat and shawl; but the question was, How had she gone out and left the doors fastened within? This was what gave mystery to it all, to say nothing about why she had gone, and where. All these points, and more, were freely dis- cussed by the crowd, and Billy and his com- panions gathered them in as fast as they were dropped. ‘* And so I say it’s a mystery,” finally declared Bob Parson, ‘* It looks like it, that’s certain,” asserted Billy, letting his voice be heard for the first time. “ Will you allowa child of my tender years to offer a suggestion?” This, after the way he had ‘“‘ done up” the bully of the camp, raised a laugh. ‘We shail be only too glad to hear a sug- gestion from anybody,” responded Parson, “You seem to have overlooked the fact that there are windows to the shanty, How are they fastened? See if one of them is open,” It seemed strange that no one had thought of this, for Parson bad mentioned nearly every- thing else, and what he had missed was supplied by Danfort, since his coming. One of the windows was found to be unfast- ened, while the other was secured with a nail. ‘Jt would seem to indicate that she went out at a window,” snggested Parsou. ** Nonsense!” cried Billy. “ Well, then, smart Aleck, what does it indi- cate?” Parson snapped, “Tt goes to prove that she was taken off by force,” Billy boldly asserted, And as he made the assertion he looked at Par- son and Danfort, to note how it struck them. Both looked serious enough over it, and Dan- fort seemed to grow a shade pale, as Billy thought he could detect. ** How does it prove that?” Danfort asked. “* Because it proves that after she went out the door some one else came in, secured the door and then got out at a window.’ The rivals looked at one another. ‘“‘There may be something in this,” spoke Parson, ‘* Likely there is,” Danfort admitted. ‘‘It seems to be about the only way to account for the doors being found bolted on the inside.” ‘You have given us a hint, young fellow,” Parson then said to Billy, ‘and I beg your par- don for snapping you up so. Maybe you can go a step further and suggest something more,” ‘* Well, it looks to me as though the young woman had been carried off by some one,” Billy rejoined. ‘And from the fact that noth- ing was heard during the night, it seems to me there must have been three or four men con- cerned in it, or at any rate enough to over- power her so that. she couldn’t give any out- ery,” Billy was going more by what he knew than by what he could guess of the matter. * But suppose she went off of her own ac- cord, as maybe she did, seeing that she had on her hat and shaw!],” suggested Danfort. Billy eyed him sharply. ‘‘In that case,” he responded, ‘she must have gove out by the window; and if you can explain why she would do that, you will do well.” a“ I can’t.” ‘‘ Nor can any one,” agreed Parson, And what was to be done about it, was a ques- tion that had been asked over and over again. ‘*Has any one else about the camp been noticed as missing this morning?’ asked the young New York shadower, No one could name any one who was ¢eon- spicuous for his absence. ‘Or any one could have any object in spirit- ing the girl away,can you suggest?’ Billy fur- ther asked, The rivals looked at each other in an accusing way. ** No, no one,” Parson declared. Danfort did not speak. “Then I would suggest that, before you widen the circuit any,” Billy proposed, “that every shanty in thiscamp be searched, I mean every building, and every other place where she might be in hiding or be imprisoned, , ‘*That looks like foolishness,” declared Dan- ort. Billy might have agreed with him, did he not know what he did. ‘*She might be imprisoned in one of them,” he insisted, ‘‘ You can’t be sure of it unless you search, and there’s no use looking out of the camp till you are sure she isn’t in it,” * That’s all so,” agreed Danfort, ‘‘ but it in a way accuses every man in the camp of being the guilty one.” “Every man is innocent till he is proved guilty,” Billy answered, giving back the same words Danfort had uttered not long befora, ‘*T am rather in favor of that idea,” said Par- son. ‘Innocent men will be only too glad to let their palaces be searched, and consider it no insult either,” ** Right you be{” was the cry from more than one, ‘** Well, let it be done, then,” agreed Danfort, " Let’s be doing something toward finding der, This was just what Broadway Billy wanted to see done. It had been his suspicion that the girl was im- prisoned in some shanty near the hotel, for the reasons that haze been shown, The proposition agreed upon, everybody seemed willing enough to have it carried out, and it only remained to proceed, ‘* Since this is to be done,” spoke Parson, “let us doit thoroughly. Let’s go out here to the west side of the camp, in a body, and work right through to the east side, taking in every bole and corner in our way. And a bundred dollars reward to the man who finds. her!” ** And another hundred from me,” added Dan- fort, not to be outdone. The search was begun, and Billy noted one thing. That was, that the rivals did not separ- ate fora moment. ‘They suspect each other,” he decided, *‘ and they don’t mean ter have any funny tricks played. But there’s no chance fer any, with all this crowd in the bunt. If that young razor- flipper is here, she is going to be found, that’s all.” Hats she was not found, consequently was not ere, The search ended, and Broadway Billy was disappointed and baffled, Knowing what he did of the affair, it puzzled him the more, After the search nobody knew what to do, It seemed that nothing could be done till further developments were forthcoming. It was a case 11 that baffled them all. But Broadway Billy and his partners held the clew, and it was their business to set to work, OHAPTER XIII. INVITED TO IMBIBE. THE remainder of the day passed without much excitement. Billy and the old ranger took it upon them- selves to keep their eyes upon Blue-hand Bart and Death-face renee as much as possible. Skinny was not allowed to exert himself too much, and was left to hang around the hotel to get all the rest he could, And he did not seem to care to wander far away from his base of sup- plies, for he made a raid upon the kitchen about every second hour. In his secret mind he was beginning to get alarmed about himself, considering the enormity of his appetite and the rapidity with which his, food digested and his stomach craved more, but the old ranger had told him not to worry, As long as the mill was able to grind, he had said, there was no danger. And besides, that was the way it was with them all, meaning those to whom he had ever administered that mysterious weed for the cure of fever, So Skinny ate, slept, and was happy—that was, reasonably happy. His concern for Billy was a constant damper upon bis spirits, Texas Sid, the drover who had their horses in keeping, had put away his stock and was ere ing around the hotel and the Queen Anne, talk- ing “horse” most of the time, and loudly de- nouncing Billy’s claim as a rank false one the balance, Billy had noted that he was not unacquainted with Blue-hand Bart, Death-face Darby, and others of that select set, The old ranger had spoken his own thought that perhaps they were all concerned in the theft of the animals, or at any rate, were in league with the rascals who bad done the work, And if their horses were among the stolen, were not all the rest of the herd stolen? It was reasonable to believe so, The trio had not been in the Queen Anne yet, except merely to leok in during the afternoon, when the place was about vacant and the pro- -prietor was dozing. it was one of the lively spots of the wild camp of an evening. That evening, when it was going at its usual blast, with its gambling, dancing, etc., they ventured in, Skinny bad insisted upon going with them, declaring that he was feeling as well as he ever had felt in his life, and certainly he looked it, The old ranger had been opposed to any such proceedings on the part of Billy, and had warn- ed him of the danger he was running in ventur- ing there, but Billy heeded him not. “ Sweet pertaters!” had been bis exclamation.. “Tf you want ter grip a p’izen dilemma by the horns, Rover, ye have got ter grip right on,. even if there is danger. ® want to get at the bottom of all this consarned diffikilty, and so we must not keep out of the swim, Never geta clew up there in our pigeon-hule of a room,, that’s sure.” Nothing would turn him, so they went, as said. When they entered there was a great “stag dance” going on, to the tune of a cracked old fiddle in the hands of a one-eyed miner. Women were scarce at this camp, 80 men had to have men for partners at these impromptu con and they were “hoeing it down” in good. style. There was Blue-hand Bart, more than half full of the dreadful poison that was sold at the camp, with Texas Sid for his partner, and they were making the windows jingle as they stag- gered and stam around, each keeping the other from falling, and apparently more by good luck than by good management, ‘ They seemed not to notice the lads and their old friend, and the trio took seats not far from the door, Billy exercising enough prudence not to venture his head too far into the lion’s mouth, Presently Billy remarked to Skinny: ‘They are not half as full as they pretend to be, thin one.” “Jest what I was goin’ ter obsarve meself,” put in the old ranger, who caught the remark, ‘You want ter look out fer ’em, lad.” [shall try to do that,” assured Billy. ‘‘ You just see that nobody takes me foul from be- hind, and I will take care of the front part al) right, if nothing gives way.” Presently the fiddle ceased its squeaking, and the dancers stopped their giddy whirl, Either by accident or design, then, Blue-hand and his tigerish-looking partner reeled off in the
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nS Sn + x men ae sie = Ee, swe E —< ow Ss 2 i ~ SPS ae ty . 12 Broadway Billy’s Business. direction of the table where our friends were sitting, bringing up against it with acrasb, The trio had sprung up in time to escape dam- age, though Skinny received quite a push. It was this that fired Biliy up in an instant, and he cried: **You had better look where you are going! Your eyesight don’t seem to be good, since your eyes went into mourning, you big duffer you!” The drunken dancers reeled back a step, and Blue-hand shouted: ‘Hello! This heur are ther cuss what added ‘ter my beauty, Texas Sid, This heur are ther very identic, as I live!” “Yer don't say!” the other cried. ‘Got yer foul, did be? Pasted ye when ye wasn’t ready, and allthat. Reckon it’sabout time fer ye ter take him down a peg, don’t ye think itare?” “T should say so; but ther fack is, I’m out 0’ tune, an’—” “Then Dll do it fer ye," the Texan offered, - a ate “Not that Dll fight him; I don’t ght boys; but V’ll dose him in a way that he won’t relish, and in a way what will be ther best sort o’ fun fer ther crowd,” **Don’t forget to count me into the pro- gramme,” said Billy, carelessly. * You bet not!” was the shout, ‘ Black ther eyes of my pard, would yer, when he wasn’t havin’ no fair show at ye. I'll show yea trick wu’th two of that. And I’ve got it in fer ye on me own account, too. Call me a hoss-thief, would ye? We'll take all that sort o’ silliness out of yer head, me buck,” All this was said with an occasional hiccough, but much of the man’s drunkenness was pre- tended, as Billy had discovered. ‘* When are you going to begin?” Billy coolly asked, as if he had no concern in the evil designs, whatever was coming. ‘* Right off soon,” was the retort, Blue-hand had now stepped back a step, leav- ing Texas Sid to the fore, Skinny and the old ranger stood with hands on weapons. They did not relish this, since it was ‘Billy’s fault that they bad entered the den at all. ‘All right, open the ball just as soon as you like,” was the cool invitation. ‘‘I am only a child, but I guess I can hold up myend. What’s ‘the i arp anyhow?” ‘You have got ter take a drink, that’s what!” This raised a snicker, as such a thing was not considered any very great punishment. “*T bave, eh?’ from Billy. : ** Bet yer life on’t!” was the swaggering boast, “*And it won’t be a plain, every-day sort of drink, either,” This gave the cue to what was intended. ‘“Before you give the order,” said Billy to that, “let me chirp my little chirp, I have never taken a drink in oy life, and I don’t think [ll begin now. Nothing stronger than coffee ever goes down my throat,” ‘Then yer mean ter say yer won't drink?” ‘*Phat’s the sum and substance of it,” Billy affirmed, ‘*Haw, haw, haw!” the fierce-looking border rigand laughed, ‘ Heur is goin’ ter be fun, fellers! Heur is goin’ ter be a sweet old time! Ther dear boy says he has never touched, tasted or bandled ther vile stuff, or somethin’ to ther same effect, so it will be bis maiden effort. Haw, haw, haw! Saay, barkeeper, jest mix up a nice little rotten-egg cocktail, will you?” ** Cover ’em,” whispered the old ranger, ‘‘ an’ ‘we'll back our way ott of heur,” _ “ Nixey,” Billy refused. ‘* We have got the best hand in this game, for by looking around I ‘can see that our friends outnumber our foes two toone, Let bim go, and we'll show him a trick worth two of his,” This was hastily whispered, while the ruffian ‘was Airing his attention to the bar. * Want it strong?” the man-at the bar asked. * The stronger the better—Haw, haw, haw!” This sort of thing is a standing joke among ‘the roughest of the rough in the wild West, and nothing of our own inventing. ’ The barkeeper set to work, having the re- quired articles on hand, and soon the delightful aroma of a spoiled egg pervaded the place, causing many to hold their noses, _ Into a glass it was put together with various other ingredients almost as appetizing, among which were mustard and kerosene, and pretty soon it was said to be ready, ‘* Now, sonny, step up and drink to ther healt’ of 7 ahamee. Bart,” the villain pleasantly in- vited. He made a mock bow and waved his hand toward the bar. “ Kill ther cuss!” cried the old ranger, in hot wage. ‘If you don’t, by dad, J shell have ter.” ‘* Never mind that,” whispered Billy, hastily. ‘*'You only back me up, that is all, Guard me behind.” And then to the Texan: ** 'Y—you really don’t mean to make me drink that, mister?” 4 Haw, haw, haw! Yas, in course I do, you chicken, Amble right up thar, or [ll have ter make ye doit. You'll come no foolishness over me. Billy made a slow motion as if to draw bis weapons, but the Texan had him covered quick- nk The Texan had sobered wonderfully by this ime, ‘“None o’ that,” he cried. ‘* Walk right up an’ drink that ar stuff, or thar wlll be a vacant place at your fambly spread at meal-times, Do yer hear what I’m sayin’?” ‘** Please don’t,” Billy whined. ‘‘ Please don’t make me drink that, I couldn’t do it, really I couldn’t, we couldn’t never, never, never drink it. Blue-hand Bart was delighted, almost beside himself with joy. The drop turned in the advantage of Texas Sid made all the difference in the world with the lad, he saw. And so thought every one else, There was a good deal of laughter going on at Billy’s expense, but he had his eyes about him and knew what he was doing. He noticed that friends were working slowly in his direction. ‘“* We'll ‘take some of ther funny out of yer,” the man cried. ‘‘ You git right up thar, now, an’ take that dose, or you'll need a pine box. It’s one or t’other, an’ that mighty quick, so make your choice,” Billy whined and protested, almost cried, as it seemed, and this was just the best kind of fun for his enemies. And as he did so he moved nearer and nearer to the bar, not actually re- fusing, as he had done at first, but with a feeble if-I-must-I-suppose-I-must, sir. But presently something happened, and the tables were turned. CHAPTER XIV. OLD ROVER’S PLAN, It all happened so quickly that no one could understand how it had been done, scarcely. Billy had reached out his hand to take the nauseous dose, and had his fingers almost on the glass, when suddenly he sprung back, duck- ing his head as if to avoid some object that had been hurled at bim from the rear, [t was a trick that was performed to per- fection. No wonder it deceived tbe rascally Texas Sid. He dodged, too, the thought flash- ing upon him that something had been thrown at the glass, and as he dodged he half turned his head to see what was coming. That was the fatal part of it for him. Like a lightning flash, Billy had his weapons in hand, and their cold tubes were pointed straight at the fellow’s head. ‘* Drop your weapons or die!” he cried. It had all been done in a space of time that was of no more than one second’s duration. The man’s jaw dropped, his face paled, and a sickly, shame-faced expression came upon his bewhiskered visage. Billy had him now. He dared not move, for the lad’s piercing eyes were fixed upon his own, and tomove a muscle might mean death instantly, ‘Drop your weapons,” Billy repeated, with grim sternness, “‘ or [’l] lift the top of your head off as sure as you stand there, I mean business, right from the cor— That's it.” he man bad let his revolvers drop, A ringing cheer greeted this, coming from the majority of those present. “That’s ther style!” cried the old ranger, de- lighted. ‘‘ Now make him take his own medi- cine, boyee, or kill him as he desarves,” And with his words the old man put himself at Billy’s back, facing the rear, and with re- volver in hand threatened to shoot the first man who dared to interfere. And Skinny was with him, “That is just what I intend to do,” Billy de- clared. ‘‘ You have got to drink that dose, Mister Man, or down goes your shebang, and don’t you forget. You thought you had a snap, but you'll find me a snapper. Now, then, drink it! ' ‘* Not by er mighty sight—” ‘*Want to die, do yon? Well, take your choice, for it’s one or the other, and that in just one minute, You take that dose or I'll shoot!” “You don’t mean it—” “Don’t you fool yourself that way. Come, now, roe wasting time. lf you don’t burry it will be everlastingly too late,” ‘* But I couldn’t drink that: nobody could.” He - i SHetics ads ‘ . ot iui ee a4 eg.) in Sy rst oae t, Pe fg ‘You meant to make me do it, though, and Tm going to make you do it, or kill you. Quick, now Billy would not have shot the fellow, of course, but the man could not know that. ‘** T—I beg off,” the rascal gasped. ‘‘I beg yer pardon an’ chaw dirt. I—” ‘*Make him take it,” cried the old ranger. (Veal? “t Yount? “He'll take it or take lead,” Billy sternly decreed. ‘‘ And there’s only five seconds left, too. Come, Mister Mustache, take your elixer or take your exiter, just as you like.’ With this final command he thrust his revol- vers a little nearer, and his determined expres- sion settled into a look of iroa-like resolve, while his eyes, black and flashing, seemed to speak louder than his words, The fellow hesitated. The revolvers came yet nearer, and Billy looked ‘‘ shoot.” And at the same time the old ranger, Skinny, and others, were crying out for him to shoot the coward, With a groan the terrible tiger reached out and took the glass, ‘¢ Quick!” cried Billy, ‘‘ Time’s up!” He seemed on the very point of pressing the triggers, and the cowed ruffian raised the awful | dose to his lips. But that was all. With a terrible retch the poor fellow resurrected his supper, dropping the glass to the floor, and then amidst the wild - whoopings of the crowd he leaned against the bar and acted like a seasick landsman, ‘‘ Well, it’s better to be sick than dead, any- how,” commented Billy, ‘and as you made a noble effort ['lllet you off. Next time you want to be sure you have got the right pig by the ear before you begin to twist. hep you pick up Broadway Billy for a flat you'll drop him for a sere every time,” * Pil—Uggghh! Pll drop ye fera—Auggghh ! —fex a corp—corpse afore ter-morrow’s sun shines!” , So the fellow threatened, between the acts as it were. as An’ if he don’t I will,” put in Blue-hand art, ‘“*T defy you both,” retorted Billy. ‘I have etihay you to be just what you are, a pair of dlatant cowards, {[f you want any more of it apply at my office, Come on, Rover an Skinny. It smells bad here.” They backed out of the den, weapons still to the front, and as soon as they were out, made haste in the direction of the hotel. ‘*My son, this heur camp ain’t goin’ ter hold ye now,” declared the old ranger in earnest tones. “Tm afraid it is getting hot,” Billy admitted. “ They will be after my gore now, sure. What is going to be done about it? We seem] to have waked up the nest of tigers with a vengeance,” ‘* You have,indeed, I wouldsay, let’s get our traps and move out of the camp this very hour, We can be miles away by daylight, and it’s no coward act, either, but common sense prudence, What doyesaytoit? Don’t ye think it’s proper, — Skinny?” ; ? ‘*T think it’s the best thing to do,” Skinny ad- mitted, ‘*Tt would no doubt be a healthy move, I can’t deny that,” Billy reflected, “but what about our horses? And what about the mystery of that missing girl? Sweet pertaters! it ain’t ter be thoughtof, Rover, Nixey, McGinnis! Broad- way Billy can’t be choked off that way. Why, T could never go home and face Inspector] Br— Hello! what have we here?” . Hasty steps were heard behind them, and Billy had turned with his weapons ready for business. Two men were seen approaching, . ‘Hold on there,” Billy called out, ‘‘ What's wanted? We have got you under cover, so look out, “Don’t shoot!” was the hasty cry. ‘‘ We're friends. Merely want tosay a word to you. See, our hands are up,” 2 They kept right on, and their arms were held up as they came, In another moment they were at hand, and proved to be no other than Bob Parson and one Champion Dodger—proper name, a friend of Danfort’s, ‘Oh, it’s you,” Billy greeted, ‘* What’s the word?” ‘Tt is this: You and your pards had better — be getting out of this camp as soon as you can. Blue-hand, Texas Sid, and all their gang, have taken an oath that you shall die before morn- ing. Wouldn’t be surprised if they burned the hotel in order to get at you.” ‘
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‘Tt begins to get interesting, that’s certain,” Billy admitted. ‘* But still I don’t feel like turn- ing tail to and sneaking off between suns, It’s contrary to my bringing up. Ill have ter stay till the meetin’ is over, i think, and take my chances, And then, too, it don’t speak well for ou solid men of the camp, if you are going to et such a gang as that do as they please.” ‘‘ Well, we have warned you,” said Parson, and can do no more, It’s your own funeral, If you want to go I'll provide you with horses,” | Billy eyed him keenly. i “That’s generous,” he commented, ‘‘ uncom- a monly generous. But I think we'll have to de- Ye cline with thanks, We'll stay, I think, and it is 5 the business of the proprietor of the hotel to see y that we are protected.” After a few words more the men turned back, and Billy and his friends went on to the hotel, ‘*You’re a lad that beats my onderstandin’,” commented the old ranger. ‘‘ Yer sea them fel- lers thinks jest as I doabout it. You had no business, my son, ter go inter that saloon an’ git inter this second batch o’ trouble, and ther more so as thar was nothin’ ter be gained byit. You is rash, my son, awful rash!” ‘Sweet pertaters! Rash,amI? That’s what the doctor said when I had the measles, and I guess he didn’t cure me up right, I’ve had symptoms that way ever since, But you are wrong, old man, when you say there was nothin’ ter be Res by our goin’ ter that saloon. I believe I have got hold of the business end of the whole rotten skeem now, and it’s my business ter sift it down and find out what’s at the bot- tom, ‘** What do ye mean?” “*Didn’t it strike you that Parson is overish anxious about getting us out of the camp?” ‘‘He seems ter like ye, my son, and seems anxious ter see ye git out o’ this hot hole, ter my way o? thinkin’.” ** Ho likes me, oh yes, you bet he does; but he’d like me better if I was a good ways off. I tell you what it is, old man, that same Parson is the f king-pin of the whole rotten circle, and don’t tad ais) you forget it. Didn’t, I see him there in the a7 a ; saloon talkin’ to Death-face Darby, while Blue- hand and Texas Sid was keepin’ the ’tention of ie crowd! Mebby not, but I rather think 1 test id, it b, ‘*You don’t say!” ee ** Yes, 1 dosay; and I say that I’m going to keep fx | my eye on that pretty gent the rest of this night.” * Waal, by dad, my son, you are a screamer, and I’msaying so, But, here is a thought that comes inter my old noodle: If he is so *tarnal anxious ter have you out of the way, and you 1s jest as ’tarnal anxious ter watch him, why not make believe go and let ’em think you have been scared off?” ; Billy grasped his hand. pe “Sweet pertaters!” he cried, ‘' You have hit it right, uncle, sure pop, That shows the ad- xy vantage brains givesafeller. If I had more of that and less of brass, I would be better off than ‘Iam. You have struck the key-note of the whole thing, and we'll act upon it. Come, let’s hurry, fer we are scared most to death. We'll pay our bill, pack up our little traps, and git! Come, for I’m all a-tremble with fear. Don’t _ you hear my teeth a-chatterin'?” He burried into the hotel, and there announced to the landlord their decision and paid their bill. In a brief time they were ready, and coming into the bar-room on their way out, Billy said to his host: _ ~ *Good-by, Kenyons. If they ask after us, tell them we have gone, and tell’em we set out to the west. We are pn, east, and that will throw ’em off the trail, We have roused up sich @ hornets’ nest that there is danger of stings if we tarry any longer. Good-by one and all.” And they set off, making all haste to be out of sight as speedily as possible. | CHAPTER XV. Biss”, BROADWAY BILLY BAGGED. 4 AT that time the great crowd was at the{Queen Anne, and the departure of the trio did not create a stir, as but few were at the hotel to see them off. se) _ These few noted the direction in which they _ Went, of course, but the three were soon out of __ Sight in the darkness, and were seen no more. . And it was not for a moment doubted but that 72 ae gone for good. i i t no such thing was intended. on Billy led the way up the valley, and almost Ar to the end, and then when it was reasonably Me i . 2 . rh gh le Oe Fh) he OF a a, sure that no one was there to see them, he turned, made a detour, and they were soon safely located at the rear of the mine buildings. ‘* Well, here we are,” Billy remarked, drop- ping the things he had been carrying, ‘‘ and now the next thing must be something else. What is it to be, Rover?” ‘*T give it up,” was the answer. ‘* You will have to do ther plannin’ now, my son, An’ I guess it won’t puzzle you mwuch ter doit, I’ tell you what it are, my idee is that you area whooper from W hooptown,” Billy had to laugh at that, it was in such earnestness and so oddly put, ‘* Well, there is no time to ve fooled away,” he declared. ‘“‘I have got to get back there as soon as I can, and in some rig so’s they won’t kuow me, What is it to be, Skinny? Wish we had that Chinee outfit along with us.” **Tt wouldn’t do to wear it, if you had,” Skinny said. ** Why not?” ‘¢ There’s none of ’em here, and they might use the first one rough,” ‘¢ That’s so, that’s so; but that thought so ably expressed, my gay and festive clothespin, gives me an idea, There are quite a few darkies here, and I can black up and be one of them for the time. We have got blacking,” ‘“‘That will fill the bill, and as all colors are alike in the dark anyhow, it won’t make any difference if you don’t get it on jest per- fect. ‘* But what are we to be doin’ all this time?” the ranger complained. **Reckon you’ll have to stay here and feed Skinny,” Billy answered, as he searched for the blacking, ** Waal I reckon not, then,” was the response, ‘‘T kin let you yopple off this tangle o’ beard and hair 0’ mine, and T’ll drop this heur jacket an’ show my red shirt an’ belt, an’ nobody would know me from Adam’s cousin, I’m not goin’ ter let ye go down thar alone, you bet.” There was firm decision in this, and Billy could not object very prong ly But they were both opposed to Skinny’s going with them, and the more 80 as they looked upon him as the weakling of the trio, With the aid of an occasional lighted match they finally had made their preparations, and with a word of cheer to Skinny, set off for the scene of the excitement once more, They parted company, when half-way to the center of the camp, and went forward in differ- ent directions, with a general understanding as to what was to be done, so far as any plans of action could be laid down. Only a few moments after they had parted there arose a great shouting in the direction of the Queen Anne. lt became louder and more fierce, and the voices of Blue-hand Bart and Texas Sid could be plainly distinguished among the others, There were curses, ravings, shouts of lynching something or somebody, and at last, with one accord, an angry mob made a dasb in the direc- tion of the hotel, “Sweet pertaters!’ exclaimed Billy, ‘but I believe we didn’t get away from there any too soon. It looks as though there would have been a lively scrimmage if we had remained, Must see what’s going on.” crowd was gathering fast, men running from every direction to learn what new excite- ment was on, and Billy fell in with the pro- cession, 80 to say, and went along with the rest. Into the bar-room of the Home Sweet Home the mob packed, with the two ruffianly ring- leaders at the head, and there they made a loud demand for Billy, ‘*Gone!” screamed Texas Sid, when told. Gone whar?” “Sloped out,” was the explanation. ‘Got afraid and dusted, Ask ther boys here if it ain’t 89. The statement was supported. But that did not satisfy. The mob must search the house, And, in spite of all protests, they began their search forthwith. Not a@ room but they looked into, and where doors were locked they broke them open. It would have been interesting if the trio had been “ their room at this time. Too interesting, per- aps. sut finally it was over, and the mob had to believe it, even against their wish. They werea hideous horde, about twenty of them, all armed to the teeth, and all shouting for the life of the Jad who had so humbled their worshi lead- ers. Baffled, however, they finally cooled down, And gradually the camp grew more quie and, as time wore on, lights were put out and a last, at a late hour, all was dark. Broadway Billy’s Business. 13° Broadway Billy had found his man, Parson, and shadowed? him to his sbanty, and the old ranger, knowing nothing else to do, was acting as guardian over Billy, keeping him in sight from a distance, Billy knew what he was doing now. He had got hold of important items since coming inte the camp in his disguise, One thing, he had heard a brief talk between Parson and Death-face Darby, a talk that bad given him the right cue, They were to meet at a given point an bour after midnight, Billy meant to be on hand at tbat meeting, and the only way to insure his being there was. to keep his eye on Parson, Then, finding out important things, perhaps, he would get belp, if needed, and scoop the slippery set. He had his eye set upon two features of the events that had crowded to the fore. One was, to find and rescue the missing girl-barber, and the other to get back the stolen. horses and punish the thieves, if he could find. proof against them. ‘‘And that’s what Broadway Billy’s business is,” he said to himself. ‘‘ And it will ba funny if I can’t bring things to a head and do some more waking up here in this sleepy camp, If there isn’t a rattling of the dry bones it will not be my fault, with Skinny and Old Rover to. back me. You bet!” He had found a hole in the wall of Parson’s: shanty through which he could look, and as there was a light within, he could see what was: going on, The man was packing up his belongings, as. though he was going, and to stay; and it was. pretty plain that he was going that night, Billy came to the right conclusion, and was sure he had not been far out of the way in his guessings. é He believed that the missing girl was in this fellow’s power, and that it was his intention to en her off and marry her in spite of herself and his rival together, Finally Parson seemed all ready, and sat down to wait for time. He took up a paper to help him wear away the hour, and glanced = watch once in every five minutes, at east, While Billy waited, he fancied he heard a jar on the ground, as by a heavy tread, and look- ing, saw the outlines of two horses going up the street, On one was a rider, and it was plain that the feet of the animals were heavily muffled, so that the sound of their hoofs could not be heard. And a second later the old ranger was at Billy’s side. ‘¢ Hosses,” he whispered. “¢ And maybe ours,” said Billy, ‘ Jest what I think, my son, They’re taking ’em off by night.” “Not so much that, but they’re the ones this. man intends using, Can you follow without dis- covery, Rover?” ‘“‘Humph! I kin foller’em so’s they won't know but I’m their own shadder,” was the re- sponse, “Go it, then, and if they are ours, don’t lose. sight of ’em if you have to follow ’em a month, And don’t worry about me; I can take care of Number One.’ Without another word the old man stalked away in the direction in which the horses had, been taken. It was abont half an hour later when Bob. Parson emerged from his shanty, ; He bad put out the light before opening the- door, and now stood on the step for a moment, looking and listening, : Satisfied, he moved away, and was soon going out of the valley at a rapid pace, carrying a bundle on his shoulder, evidently bis worldly possessions. Billy followed, as close as he thought prudent, and as silently as be had ever followed a man in his life, Discovery would mean defeat, and that was not to be considered for a moment. — Barely a bundred yards bad he gone, how- ever, when suddenly he was seized by strong hands, and a hand was clapped over his mouth, Instantly bis heart was in his throat. This: meant death, as he well knew, and he struggled and fought desperately, but all in vain, He was. in the grasp of two powerful men. He was speedily overcome, gagged, and then bound. . How now, me duckling?’ whispered the voice of Blue-hand Bart. ‘You have had yer last bit of fun, you young: whelp,” added that of Texas Sid, , And Billy fully believed he bad, too. There was no ho 80 for asibe wasable to see, ’ He could offer no reply, gagged, and as time
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te ' confusion down there, and 14 seemed to be an item of consideration with the two rogues, they proceeded to business hastily. Picking him up, they carried him off in the direction of the mine, and were soon at the rear of the buildings, where, without loss of time or ceremony, they swung him over into a dark pit and burried away, A loud splash immediately followed, and then all was still. Skinny had witnessed this, and his heart was in his throat as bigh as Billy’s had been. What if that object he had seen thrown into that hole were Billy! The very thought paralyzed him. While be stood there, undecided, and cousid- ering how helpless he was to do anything, alone and in the dark, another shadowy form hastily pas gee t was that of a man, and Skinny was on the point of hailing him when be saw that he was making straight toward the dark shaft. A moment he fumbled around there, and then he disappeared over the edge and was gone. What meant all this? The lean lieutenant wes wild with anxiety. He crept forward to the mouth of the pit. CHAPTER XVI. SOMETHING UNEXPECTED, SKINNY found a beam along the edge of the pit, or shaft, and taking hold of it, silently as possible making every move, he leaned over and looked down, listening. He heard a scraping, rattling sound for a mo- ment, and then all was still. In another moment a light flashed forth, and a see what was going on in the dismal hole. And as he looked he almost let out a scream. There, at the bottom of the hole, with bis face turned toward the opening, was his beloved partner, gagged and bound. The light was a match held in the fingers of a rough-looking fellow who was holding on with his other hand toa rude iron ladder that ran down the side of the old shaft. The next mo- ment this man spoke. “Thar ye be, I see,” he said, ‘‘and alive, thank ther Lord. Keep yer head out fer a second, if ye kin, pard, an’ I’ll have ye.” With that, he threw away the match, anda splash in the water followed. For some moments there was a good deal of then the ladder scraped and rattled once more, showing the man had hold of it again, ‘*Thar,” Skinny heard bim say, pantingly, “ver life is safe, an’ now Vl git holt o’ my knife an’ free ye, an’ ye kin soon climb up ther ladder.” ‘*Sweet pertaters! but that was a narrow squeeze,” Billy’s voice exclaimed a few seconds later. ‘‘I thought it was all up with William, anc that’s the fact, But, who are you, friend?” ‘*?'m Joe Grimble,” was the answer, “ ther feller what Blue-hand bu’sted in ther nose the other night, I vowed I’d git even with him, an’ I’m goin’ ter do it, too, I knowed what his leetle skeem was, and I had my eyes on him, But, come, fer ther goose ain’t no more’n half cooked yet. They’re goin’ fer that old pard o’ yourn next,” ** Then let’s make all haste,” cried Billy, ‘ Up with you, and I'll be right at your heels,” Up they scrambled, and Skinny kept still, not wanting to be mistaken\ for an enemy by the man Grimble, and possibly shot. As soon as they were out, Billy said; ** My lean pard is here somewhere, him,” ‘* Right here I am,” Skinny answered, ** And let’s be off in haste,” Billy urged. ‘I want iter rescue that old man, if it is in the “ We'll git thar, you bet,” Grimble assured, **T happen ter know whar they are all headin’ fer, and we kin round ’em.” “You know all about it, then?” asked Billy. ** Yas; fact is, [had a hand in some of it, till Bart used me so cussed mean. Sence then I’ve ‘aagie ther spy an’ found out all that I didn’t now before. I’m goin’ ter spile their game, an’ then trust ter you fellers ter keep my neck out o’ halter,” “You shall have that favor, you bet,” cried Billy. ‘Only for you I’d bea gone gosling b this time, and I won’t forget you, But, what is the plot, anyhow?’ “Waal, fu st of all, it was us fellers what stole er hosses, It was me, Bart, Sid, Death-face, arson and ther Injun. He got salted, sly as We'll find he was at his special line o’ work. We has been runnin’ that sort o’ game fer a long while. And Broadway Billy’s Business. Sid has been actin’ as our drover, ter sell ther stock, That’s one chapter, as ther story-books SeZ. ‘*“Then, next, Parson and Danfort bas been wranglin’ over that gal barber fer a long time, an’ Danfort sort o’ had ther inside track, so Parson made up his mind he’d steal her an’ carry ber off, an’ that he {done, It was done last night, an’ she is off in ther hills in ther keepin’ of a old hag. Parson is goin’ out thar now, and Death- face has gone on with ther hosses, He’ll take ther ga!, and they will be out o’ reach by morn- in’—anyhow, soit was planned. But they hav- en’t counted us in,” Billy saw something now. Instead of their putring the girl in one of the shanties, as he had supposed, she had been taken off immediately by other men besides those he had seen. He won- dered why he had not thought of tnat, “When you was reported as gone, it wasn’t believed, and Parson was afraid ye was goin’ ter spy on him, fer he was afeerd of ye, an’ that’s ther truth. So he set Blue-hand and Sid ter watch his cabin, an’ that’s ther way they got onto you. But they didn’t know I was watchin’ them, an’ so it comes about that I was able ter fish ye out of that hole, It was all I could do. I was alone, an’ they would ’a’ killed me if they had got me, sol had ter take ther chances. It was lucky yer*head wasn’t bu'sted on ther rocks, but a miss is as good as a mile,” More in detail was given, and so Billy got at all the points. A fuller exposition is not needed here. The man Grimble led the way and directed their movements, and there was every reason why he should be trusted. Billy had full confi- dence in him, after what he had done for him; who wouldn’t have had? At last they came to a place in the hills where a light was seen at the opening to a sort of cave, and there in the light stood the old ranger, a prisoner. Before him were Parson, Death-face, Blue-hand and Texas Sid. And it seemed evi- dent that they were preparing to hang the old ranger. ‘* What's to be done?” asked Billy. ‘* Wait till they bave their hands busy, and their weapons won’t be handy, and then we’ll scoop ’em,” said Grimble, ‘‘ We'll order ’em ter put up their fins, an’ ther fu’st one what don’t do it, Jet drive at him. Au’ it must be shoot to kill, too.” This agreed upon in full, they crept nearer, and presently the time was ripe for action. The men were preparing to hang the old ranger, and their hands were engaged, when the threesprung out upon them. ‘*Up with your hands, you murderers!” So cried Broadwey Billy, and at the sight of him, at least two of the four were too startled to speak. These were Blue-hand and Texas Sid. Parson, however, was action in an instant. His hand flew to a weapon, but before he could draw it Grimble had dropped him in his tracks, Tbe others were speedily made prisoners. ‘A pretty set you are, ain’t you?’ cried Broadway Billy. ‘‘ Didn’t know that you can’t kill me, did ye? This is going to be a dear night’s work for you.” * And I told you I’d git square with ye,” cried Grimble, shaking bis fist at Blue-hand, More was said, much more, but need not be quoted, As soon as the old ranger had been released, a search was made of the cave,and in it were found Tilly the Barber and her old woman guard, The girl was released, and the old hag was made a prisoner. Then a council was called, and a plan of action discussed. It was decided that they should remain there the rest of the night, and march into the camp ike their prisoners by daylight. And so it was xed, Next morning, about the hour that the camp was nicely astir, into town marched Billy and his friends, with their prisoners; the latter hay- ing been made to carry the body of Parson, a rough stretcher having been constructed for that purpose. That a rousing excitement was created need not be said. The leading citizens of the camp took the matter in hand, organized a court of Judge Lynch, and id none to try the rascals forthwith. The confessionof Grimble was heard, and he backed it with proof; and then the story of Broadway Billy. There could be no question as to the guilt of the rascals. And it was decreed that they should be hanged, every one of them. There was little delay about that proceeding, either, A rude scaffold was hastily put up, some ropes procured, and the prisoners were led forth, Broadway Billy did not exactly relish witness- ing this sortof thing, but considering how neariy he had come to bis death at the hands of two of the villains, he was not so squeamish about it as he would have been otherwise. Texas Sid was hanged first, and after him went Death-face Darby, and then it remained to serve Blue-hand, the worst of the lot, in the same way. But somehow, just at the last moment, he got his hands free and fought like a tiger. He could have been shot, but that would not do. He must be hanged as the others had been, In the struggle bis clothes were half torn off, and suddenly one of his sleeves giving way at the shoulder, an-arm was bared. And immedi- ately, at sight of it, old Roger the Ranger sprung forward with a cry that was almost a scream: ‘* Dan Manson !” he cried. The prisoner ceased his struggles and stared at the old ranger, his face more pale than it had been at all. ‘* Who are you?” he gasped. “Who am I?” the ranger hissed. ‘* Who, but Roger Watts, the man you wronged years ago, Ha! you dog! I have got you at last, as I knowed Ishould. This is the man who blasted my life, my boy,” turning to Billy, Explanation was demanded, and the old ran- ger repeated his story, ‘** An’ thar’s no question about ther proof,” he concluded, ‘‘ fer thar itare. Thar’s ther scar, ther same as it used to be, an’ he can’t deny it, he dassen’t deny it. Put that rope onto him’ pards, an’ let me be ther man ter do ther hangin’, It is all I have lived fer all these years,” ‘* An’ I knowed it would come ter this, sooner or later,” the prisoner cried, ‘‘I have knowed you was after me, Roger, I bave knowed it awake an’ asleep. An’ now I can’t ax fer mercy, fer I know I wouldn’t gitit, Hang me, an’ letit be over,” ‘“*Marcy,” the ranger repeated, ‘‘marcy fer you ? Never on this heur side the grave will yer find it! Put on ther rope, boyees,” it was done, and Dan Manson ended his career at the hands of the man whom he had wronged. Not much more is to be to told, Billy and his friends were given the freedom of the camp, and enough honor could not be shown them, The pardoned outlaw, Grimble, was allowed to go, as Billy had promised, and lost no time in getting away. And it was with the resolve to lead a better life, That same week there was a wedding in the camp, and the happy ones were Tilly Wood and her lover Phil Danfort. There was a joyful time, and Billy danced at the wedding, and he also kissed the bride, Two weeks the lads spent there, and then, in company with the old ranger, who had made up his mind to go East and end his days near his old home, they set out for Denver, the boys riding their horses, which had been retaken, of course, and the old ranger trudging with them on foot, A word about Skinny, and we close. He had continued to gain in flesh, until before leaving the camp it had been found necessary to fit him out with a new suit of clothes. He was eating as heartily, and being weighed on the day of setting out, it was found that he weighed two pounds more than Billy! He was a happy boy, and warned Billy never to speak to him again on the subject of thinness. ‘**-You bet I never will, pard, if you hold your own,” Billy promised. ‘But what will I do? Ill have ter call ye Skinny, fer that is yer name; and it’s a name that don’t fit ye now, not by any means, But when are ye going tostop? If you keep on, by,the time we get home you’ll be ready to become an alderman, and I'll see that you are nominated for the office, too. Bless your honest little—big heart, you are worth a dozen or two of what you were a few weeks ago, when I was sheddin’ salt, sad tears over you away off there in the mountains; hey, Rover?” THE END.
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BY OLL COOMES. 5 Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 18 The Dumb Spy. 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 61 Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. 41 Lasso Jack, the Yoong Muastanger. 658 The Border King; or, The Secret Fou Z1 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. 74 Mawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper Ranger. 88 Kollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. 148 Scar-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 158 Eagle kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texana, the Young Mustanger. 175 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 1S2 Little Murricane, the Boy Captain. 202 Prospect Pete ; or, ‘fhe Young Outlaw Hunters, 208 The Boy Hercules: or, The Prairie Tramps. 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 22S Little Wildtire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, 248 The Dinguised Guide ; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger. 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger, 272 Minkskin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 300 The Sky Demon; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger, BS4 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero. 409 hercules; wr, Dick, the Boy Ranger. A1T? Webtoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone. 444 Little Buckskin, tne Young Prairie Centaur. 457 Wingedtfoot Fred} or, Old Polar Saul. 468 Tamarac Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic, 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. 562 Blundering Baall, the Hermit Boy Trapper. 652 Don Barr, the Plains Freelance. 661 Old Kit Bandy’s Deliverance. 670 Norway Nels, the Big Boy Mountaineer. 680 Dauntless Dan, the Freelance, or, Old Kit Bandy in Arcadia, BY BUOKSKIN SAM (Major Sam. 8. Hall.) 284 Old Rocky « ** Boyees; or, Benito, tie Horse Breaker 246 Glant Georges or, The Ang’l ofthe Range. 275 Arizona Jack ; or, Giant George’s Pard. 297 The Tarantula of Taos; or, Giant George’s Revenge, S07 The Strange Pard; or, Little Ben’s Death Hunt. 818 Ker-whoop, Ker-whoo; or, The Tarantula of Taos, S27 Creeping Cat, the Caddo; or, The Red and White Parés, £82 Frio Fred: or, The Tonkaway’s Trust, 844 The Fighting Trio; or, Rattlesnake, the Tonkaway, 849 Wild Wolf; or, Big-Foot Wallace to the Front, 857 The Ranch Raiders; or, The Siege of Fort Pargatory. 864 Snap-Shot, the Boy Kanger, B75 Chiota, the Creek; or, The Three Thunderbolts. 881 Bandera Bill; or. Frio Frank to the Front, B92 Romeo and the Reds; or, The Beleaguered Ranch. 404 Little Lartuat; or, Pecan Pete’s Big Rampage. 414 The Datsy from Denver, 427 The Three Trailers; or, Old Rocky on the Rampage 442 Bluff Bill; or, The Lynx of the Leona. 455 Little Lone Star: or, The Belle of the Cibolo, 684 Cache Carl, the Chico Giant mY PHILIP 8. WARNE, OT Patent-Leather Joe; or, Old Rattlesnake, the Charmer. 175 Unptain Arizona; or, Patent-Leather Joe's Big Game. 2198 Captain Mask; or, Patent-Leather Joe’s Defeat. 444 Despard, the Duelist; or, bes. Np pe Vempires. A Tough Boy: or, The Dwarf's Revenge. cee Histic pividyh fis : or, The Outcasts of the Glen. zittice Jingo; or, the Queer Pard. BSS Little Oumy gor, Caught in His Own Trap, 401 Little Shoo-F ly ; or, A Race fora Ranch. 408 Little Leather-Breeches ; or, Old Jumbo’sC Asi Little Ah Sin 3 or, The Curse of Blood, a3 stage p h ate. 2 Tale of the olines. olly Parda, 517 Jim Gladden’s Deputy. 627 The Jolly Parda to the Resene. B47 Sandy Andys or, A Good Man Down. 656 Lariat Lil; or, The Cast for a Life. ese oe mansel-top, a 4 with the Dogs, cen Clem, the Ranch Imp, 699 Jim Dandy the No-Name Sport. G18 Billy Blazer; or, The Skeleton’s Legacy, G85 Oklahoma Hi, the Blue-Cont Scout. 648 HWappy Harry’s Big Find. 664 Cheeky Charley, the Special. BY EDWARD WILLETT. U67 Asa Scott, the Steamboat Boy. 199 Featherweight the Boy Champion of the Muskingum. B28 Ozark Alf; or, Featherweight Among the Outlaws, 282 The Typo Detective ; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp, 295 Fearless Phils; or, The King of Quartzville, 811 The Roying Sport; or, The Pride of Chuckaluck Camp, 822 Nemo, the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon’s Vendetta, 640 Olip the Contortionist: or, Tha Montana Vivilantes, BY JO PLEROE. 897 Bob o’ the Bowery; or, The Prince of Mulberry Stree 415 The Vagabond Detectives or, Bowery Bob’s ede “s 452 Hotapur Bob, the Street-Boy Detective. 460 The Lawyer's Shadow; or, Luke’s Legacy. 472 Jaunty Joe, the Young Horse-King. 494 Surly Sim, the Young Ferryman Detective. 604 Five Points Phu. 1 509 Jack Jaggers, the Butcher Boy Detective. 516 Tartar Tims; or, Five Points Phil’s Menagerie, 526 North River Nat, the Pier Detective. 538 Wrestling Rex, the Pride of the Sixth Ward. 641 Jeff Flicker. the Stable Boy Detective. 651 Nick Nettle, the Boy Shadow. 559 Harlem Jack, the Office Boy Detective. 569 Brooklyn Ben, the On-His-Own-Hook Detective T Pavement Pete the Secret Sifter, 588 Jack-o’-Lantern, the Under-Sea Prospector. GOR Wide-Awake Bert, the Street-Steerer, 614 Whistling Jacob, the Detective’s Aja, 623 Buck Bumblebee, the Harlem Hummer, 689 “prise Saul, the Brprep ee ox Seb, amin Bob, the Bowery Badger; or, Scooptn: BBS Bly Hochet Rob, the Life-Saver, ene ® Slippery 683 Saltpeter Sol, the New York Navigator, 694 Spicy Jim, the Only One of His Kind, 706 Tom Thistle, the Road-House Detective, S17 Mosquito Jack, the Hustler Gamin. 726 Dennis Duff, the Brown Sport’s Kid. BY J. W. OSBON. 469 The Rival Giants of Nowhar’s 495 Cactus Burr, the ian from Hard Luck. 5387 Old Buckeye, the Sierra Shadow. 664 Powder fl, the Boy Miner, B08 Littio Ligmechents hen eet tees Mystery of ae Teen nin, t) 688 Plucky Baul, Agta hae rp % BEADLE'S« ALF-])IME«] IBRARY. Cents. No Double Numbers. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes of a Bowery Girl, 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. 7Y Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. 288 Joe Buck of Angels and His Boy Pard. 447 New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and Traps in Gotham, New England Nick; or, The Fortunes of a Foundling, Nimble Nick, the Circus Prince, 408 Taos Ted, tae Arizonn Sport, 510 Cool Colorado, the Hall-Breed Detective, 518 Cool Colorndo in New Vork. BY GEORGE WALDO BROWNE, 86 Dandy Rock the Man from Texas, 90 ‘The Drend Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. 99 The Tiger of Taon; or, Dandy Rock’s Angel. 115 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom. The Golden Hand; or, Dandy Rock to the Rescue, 164 Dandy Reck’s Pledge}; or, Hunted to Death, 178 Dandy Rock’s Rival; or, The taunted Maid of Taos, BY GEORGE ©. JENKS. 485 Git Thar Owney the Unknown, 402 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. 518 The Demon Doctor. Double-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective. 59S Flute, the Singer Detective, 608 The Pitcher Detective’« Fol]; or, Dan’a Double Play. 616 The Ocean Detectives or. The Last Cruise of the Black Bear, The Pitcher Detective’s Toughest Tussel. BY J.C. COWDRICK, 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. 869 Shasta, the Gold King; or, For Seven Years Dead. 420 The betective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a Name. 424 Cibuta Jonny; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar, 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. ZT Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo, : Redlight Ralph the Prince of the Road. 514 Broadway Billy’s Boodle, 524 The Engineer Detective. Broadway Billy’s ‘ DIiMkilty,.” Mart, the Night Express Detective. 7 Broadway Billy’« Peath Racket. Alr-Line Luke the Young Engineer. 579 The Chimney Spy3 or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party. 592 The Boy Pinkerton. 5 William 0’ Broadway; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning. Fighting Harry the Chief of Chained Cyclone. 628 Brondvay Rilly’« Dead Act, 640 Barebsek Beth, the Centaur of the Circle, 647 'Typewaiter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward, Moonlight Morgun, the “ Pizenest ’’? Man of Ante Bas. Broadway Billy Abroad. 5 Broadway Billy’s Best; or, Beating San Francisco's Finest. 7 Broadway Billy in Clover. } Brondway Billy in Texas. Broadway Billy’s Brand, Broadway Billy at Santn Fe. Broadway Billy’s Full Hand, BY FREDERICK DEWEY 818 Cimarron Jack, the King-Pin of Rifle-Shota. 478 Tangemund, the Desert Detective. The C- yon Parda. Til 720 BY ARTHUR C. GRISSOM, 440 Little Foxfoot, the Gold Bowie Kid. 558 The Sure-Shot Pards, Truthtul James, the “ Pecooliar’’ Man. BY MAJOR E. L. ST. VRAIN, 292 Sancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit. Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince. 888 Lrimatone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quartette, 852 Tombstone Tom, the Arizona Boy of “Sand.” 859 Duranre Dave, the Young Chamrion Wrestler, 871 Kingbolt Chria, the Young Hard-Shell Detective. 880 Avalanche AIf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountuin Mail-Line. BY EDWARD 8. ELLIS, 6 BUl Blddon, Trapper. 8 Seth Jones; or, The Captives of the Frontier, 10 Nat Todd}; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. 21 ‘rne Frontier Angel. 98 The Boy Miners; or, The Enchanted Island, 182 The Hunted Hrntery; or, The Strange Horseman, 254 The Half-Blood; or, The Panther of the Plains, 271 The Huge Hunter; or, The Steam Prairie Man, B” MAJOR LEWIS W. CARSON. 278 The T ree Trappers; or, The Mountain Mon le 98S Indian Joe; or, The White Spirit of the Hilla BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, 256 Young Kentuck: or, The Red Lasso. 270 Blizzard Bens; or, The Riot at Keno Camp. 286 Josh, the Boy Tenderfovot. BY BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG,. 89 Island Jim; or, The Pet of the Family. 91 The Captain of the Club; or. The Rival Athletes. 101 Jack Narkaway in New York. P BY MAJOR HENRY B. STODDARD, Ex-8cout. 806 Neck-Tle Ned; or, The Dug-Out Pards, 846 Rapier Raphael; or, The Swordsmen of Zacatecas, 891 Kid-Glove Kit, the Dandy of the Rockies. B98 Kid-Glove Kit and Pard; or, The Gold King, 406 The Mad Man-Hunter: or, The Golden Guich Mystery. 505 Powell’s Pard; or, The One-Armed Giant, BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER, 15 The Sea-Ogt; or, The Witch of Darien. 29 The Dumb Page; or, The Doge’s Deughter. 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. © Lance and Lasso}; or, The Children of the Chaco. 1 The Sword Hunters; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders, 159 The Lost Captain; or, Skipper Jabez Coffin’s Cruise. 200 The Boy Bedoutns; or, The Brothers of the Plumed Lance, 14 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. 249 Milo Romer the Animal King; or; Round the World, 265 The Tiger Tamer ; or, The League of the Jungle, 881 Black Niek, the Demon Rider. 895 California Joe's War Trail. oe BY COL. A. ¥. HOLT. 899 Black Buckskin; or, The Masked Men of Death Can 419 Kenneth, the Knife-Kine. FOR. 485 Littie Lightfoot. the Pilot of the Woods. S23 The Dandy Sport; ér, The King Pin Conspirator, 678 Ralph Renwood, the Lightning Express Detective, 691 Headlight Warry’s Haul, 727 Headlight Warry’s Siren, ms U » ‘ BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Yellowstone Jack} or, The Trappers 48 Black John, the Road-Agent, or, The Outlaw’s Retreat 65 Murricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard. 119 Mustang Sam 3 or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-tlawk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch, 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 161 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 160 The Black Glant; or, Dainty Lance in Joopardy. 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire, 184 The Boy Trallers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path 203 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. B85 Old Double Fist; or, Ihe Strange Guide B55 The King of the Woods: or Daniel Boone’s Laat Trafl, 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective 625 Chincapin Dan, the Boy Trailer. G77 Chinenpiv Pan's Second Trail. 68S Chincapin Dan's Home Stretch. 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. TOS Light-Neart Lute’s Legacy. T18 Light-Heart Lute’s Last Trail, 728 Silverblade, the Shoshone, BY W. J. HAMILTON, 68 The Red Brotherhood} or, The Twelve Avengers. 66 Single Hand; or, A Life fora Life. 72 Mad Tom Weatern, the Texan Ranger. 887 Ben Bird, the Cave King; or, Big Pete’s Scoop. BY JACK FARRAGUT, 815 Ned, the Cabin Boy. 820 The Sea Sorceress; or, The Boy Skipper. BY LIEUT. I. D. PERRY, U. 8. N. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Buccaneer of the Bay, 180 The Sea Tratler;: or, A Vow Well Kept. 192 Captain Kit; or, The Mystery of Montauk Point. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. O78 Blue Dick; or, The Yellow Chiefs Vengeance, S7 The Land Pirates; or, The League of Devil's Leland, 87 The Helpless Hand ; or, Backwoods Retribution, 289 The Gold-seeker Guide? or, The Lost Mountain, BY WILLIAM R EYSTER, 190 Dandy Darke; or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 Faro Frank; or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pard BY C. DUNNING CLARK. 185 Captain Paul; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains. 280 The Vankee Rajah; or, The Fate of the Black Shereef, BY OAPT, ALFRED B. TAYLOR U. 8. A. 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Buffalo BNIMs Bet; or, The Gambler Guide. BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS. 546 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock. 568 The Dandy ot Dodge, 576 The Silver Sport, 688 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow 589 Tom-Cat and Pardy or, The Dead Set at Silver City. 601 Happy Hana, the Dutch Vidoeg, 611 Bildad Barnacle, the Detective Pain tae 622 Texas Tom-Cat’s Trind 681 Tom Cat’s Terrible Task. 688 Tom-Cat’s Triumph; or. Bleck Dan’s Great Combine, 646 Cowboy Gld, the Cattle-Range tvtective, 657 Warbling Willlam, the Mountain Mountebank, 665 Jolly Jereminhy the Plains Detective, 676 Signal Sam, the Lookout Scout. 689 Billy the Gypsy Spy. 699 Straple Sim, the Proncho Buster, : 712 The Mesmerist Sport; or, The Mystified Detective, MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORS, 4 The Wild-Horse Munters. By Capt. Mayne Reta and Frederick Whittaker, 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen. 2 Gullfver’s Travels, By Dean Swift. 4 Aladding or, The Wonderful Lamp. 6 Robinson Orusoe,. (27 Tlustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyagen. 22 The Sen Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe, By Juan wwise 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribees, By S. W. Pierce. 86 The Boy Clowns or, The Arena Queen. By F S. Finn. BH Ned Wylie, the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. Bil The Boy Rites; or, The Underground Camp. By A.C. Trona, 05 The Rival Rovers; or, The Freebooters of the Missisalppi. By Lieut.-Col, Hazeltine, 98 Robin Nood, the Outinwed Earl; or, The Merry Men of Green- wood. By Prof. Gildersleeve, 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain Hamilton Holmes. 112 The Mad Hantery; or, he Cave of Death. By Burton Saxe. 124 Tippy, the Texans or, The Young Champion, By George ereaon. 128 The Young Privateer; or, The Pirate’s Stronghold, By Harry Cavendish, 148 Sharp Sam; or, The Adventures of a Friendleas Boy. By J, Alexander Patten. 227 Dusky Darrell, Trappor: or, The Groon Ranger of the Yel- lowstone, By Edward Emerson. 261 Fergux Fearnaught the New Yirk Boy. By G. L. Alken. 266 Killb’ar, the Guide; %, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trall. By Ensign C. D. Warren. 298 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid of the Cliff. By Captain Comstock. 817 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Leadville, By Lieu- tenant Alfred Thorne. . 828 The &ky Detectives or, A Boy's Fight for Life and Honore By Maior Mickey Free. 850 Ked Ralph, the River Rover or, The Brother’s Re- venge. By Ned Runtline, 865 Baltimore Ben the Bootblack Detective, By A. P, Morris. 874 Gold-Dnat Tom: or, Ben’s Doubla Match, By @ H. Morse. 876 Callfornia Joe’s First Tratl, By Colonel Thomas Hoyer Monastery. 418 Billy Bombshell, the Cliff Climber. By F,S. Winthrop, 475 The Black Ship. By JohnS Warner. 484 Comanche Pick and His Three Invinelbles, By Henrv J. omas, £9 The Cowboy Duke. By Edwin Brooke Forrest. 552 Ariel the Athlete. By David Drutd. 585 Will Waters, the Boy Ferret. By H. Enton. 682 The Dead Netective’s Double. By Gerald Carlton. %21 Maverick Mose, the Arizona Detective; or, The Wizard of Urkos Pass. By Will Lisenbee, A New"issue Every Tucsday- The Malf-Dime Library ts for sale by ail nowsdenlers, five conts per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of alx cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMA, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York, rk at
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- 3 ee et ty BEADLE’S« H ALF- DIME* LIBRARY. | Published Every Tuesday. Hach Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers, BY EDWARD L, WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels. 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Deadwood Dick’s Defiance; or, Double Daggers. 28 Deadwood Dick in Disguise; or, Butfal, Ben 85 Deadwood Dick in His Castle. A2 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; or, The «antom Miner. 49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; or, Omaha OL. 7 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards ot Flood Bar. Deadwood Dick on Deek; or, Calamity ¢ ie, the Heroine, 7 Deadwood Dick’s Last Acts or, Corduroy Charlie. ' 100 Deadwood Dick In Leadville. 104 Deadwood Dick’s Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. a3e Boadw ocd pee iow whey s: The Gongon's gee Ghost. endwooc ek’s Home Base; or, Blonde Bill. 149 Deadwood Dick's Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivuls of the Road. 201 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. +t Fay (eer, eo om ite aan Jane’s Adventure. enadwoo ck’s Dea eal. 221 Deadwood Dick’s Death-Plant. 282 Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Toughs, see Deadwood Dick's Divides me Spirit of Swamp Lake. endwool ¢ck’s Death Trail. 809 Deadwood Dick’s Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon, 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats 847 Dendwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Days in the Diggings, sos peadweod Siett Gone or, The Terrible Vendetta, ead wood ck’s Claim, 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. 410 Deadwood Dick’s Dinmonds, A421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A “Cute Case,” rt 4 Deadwood Belts Dust} or, The Chained Hand. 48 Deadwood Dick, Jr. 448 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Defiance. 458 Deadwood Dick, Srey Full Hand, 459 Deadwood : Big Round-Up. A465 Deadwood Racket at Claim 10, at wawoes Conran ie popsatan BilL endwoo 7 og Detective. 481 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Deadwood, AML Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Compact. A496 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Inheritance, 600 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Diggings. 508 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«, Deliverance. 615 Dendwood Dick, Jr.'s, Protegee. 522 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Three. 529 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Danger Ducks B5S4 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Death Hunt. 589 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Texas. bas peadzoed ot oe the yee this Deadwood ek, Jr., on « Mettle, 554 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Boston. bGT Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Philadelphia, 672 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago, 678 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Afloat. 6S4 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver. 5690 Deadwood Dick, dr.’s, Decree. 595 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Beelzebub’s Basin, 600 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Coney Island, 606 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Leadville Lay. 612 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Detroit. 618 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Cincinnatl. 624 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Nevada, 680 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land, 686 Deadwood Dick, Jr., After the Queer, 642 Deadwood Dick, Jr,, in Buffalo, Tedndvcel Dick: 4r.,’ Ammons teobemeneeee . enadwooc CK, « oo ais crs. 660 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Insurance Carer Deadwood Dick, Jr., Back In the Minea. Deadwood Dick, Jr., tu Durango; or, “ Gathered In.” peeereos picks oe Disegy ery; or, Found a Fortune, deadwood ck, Jr.’s. Dazzle. Deadwoed Dick, Jr.’s. Dollars. Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Danger Divide. 700 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Drop. 704 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Juck-Pot. 710 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In San Franciseo, 716 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Still Hunt. 722 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dominoes, T28 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Disguise. BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective, M Les 4 Phil Mardy, the Boss Boy. ' 126 Pieayune Pete ; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective, 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 WiLL Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 2 Black Beas, Will Wildfire’s Racer. Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. Ae epee in the sods, il aggage, the Railroad Boy. A yates aid or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses. 4 Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. 9 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 188 The Hidden Wand; or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge. 187 Fred Malyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers, “189 Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. 196 Shadowed ; or, Bob Kockett’s Fight for Life, 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. OTons Tanner 3 or, The Black Sheep of the Flock. : 62 rere t tt AANNAAIUN RONEN 2 2 2 Sam Charcoa ithe Premium parts dow Sam, the Messenger Boy. ; he Two ** Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. Dick Dashaway : or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago. 262 The Young Sharps? or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail, 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’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, $4 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detective 3 or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard, B67 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. 879 Larry, the Leveler; or. The Bloods of the Boulevard, 408 Firetly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. A428 The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier, 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invinetble Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret, 456 Billy Brick, the Jolly Vagaoond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive, A7T9 Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. f 601 Boots, the Bey Firemans or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, b66 The Secret Service Boy Detective. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. 627 Tom Bruce of Arkansas; or, The Wolf In the Fold, 655 Plucky Paul, the Boy Speculator. oo 667 Bob and Sam, the Daisy Detectives. 709 The Curbstone Detective; or, Harry Hale’s Big Beat, Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woolf or, The Girl Dead-Shot, 89 Death-Fuace, Detective; or, Lite in New York, 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 58 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., tle Boy Phenix. 61 Muckhorn Bill; or, The Red Kide Teant, 69 Gold Rifles the Sharpehooter; or, The Boy Detective, 80 Resebud Rob; or, Nugget Ned, ths Knight. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miners or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance. 92 Canada Chet 3 or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp, 96 Watch-Eyes or, Arabs und Angels of a Great City, 118 Jacek Moyle the Young Speculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 121 Clunamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Benanza Bill, Miner. 188 Boss Bob the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. 145 Onptain Ferret, the New York Detective. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scamps, 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Fronts; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter, 226 Rnoozer, the Buy Sharp; or, The Arab Detective, 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young G)adiator. 244 Sierra Sam, the Frontier Ferret. 248 Sierra Sam’s Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 2558 Sierra Saw’s Pard; or, The Angel of Big Vista. 258 Sierra Sam’s Seven} or, The Stolen Bride. 278 Jumbo Joe, the Boy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs. 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 281 Denver Doll's Victory. 255 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk .the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or. The Road Queen, 299 A \¢o. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker, 808 ’Liza Jane, the Girl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport. B25 Kelley, Hickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia. B80 Little Quick-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville, B84 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner, 889 Kangaroo Kits Racket, 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood. 858 First-Class Fred, the Gent from Gopher. 868 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherer; or, The Life Lottery, 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. BTS Nabob Ned3 or, The Secret of Slab City. 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, BS5 Yreka Jim’s Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nose. 889 Bicycle Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam. ‘ 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Hat Harry, the Base Ball Detective, 426 Sam Slabaides, the Beggar-Boy Detective, 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives, 458 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. 486 Seulskin Sam, the Sparkler. BY T. ©. HARBAUGH. 28 Nick o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of ’76. 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Little Hunter. 47 Nightingale Nat ; or, Tne Forest Captains, 64 Dandy Jack; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trali. 82 Kit Warefoot the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack 3 or, The Boy Trapper. 106 Old Froaty, the Guide; or, The White Queen. 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch Jr.i or, The Boy Vigilante. 155 Gold Trigger, the Sport; er, The Girl Avenger. 169 Tornado Tom; or, Injun Jack From Red Core, 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkansaw ; or, The Quen of Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick. the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot’s Crusade, 281 Plucky Phil; or, Rosa, the Re! Jezebel. 241 Bill Bravo; or, Tie Roughs of the Rockies. 255 Captain Apolic, the King-Pin of Bowie. 267 The Buckskin Detective, 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes, 294 Dynamilie Dan; or, The Bowle Blade of Gochetopa. 802 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bully. 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona, 826 The Ten Pards; or, The Terror of Take-Notice, 886 Rig Benson; or, The Queen of the Lasso. 845 Pitilesas Matt; ov, Ked Thanderbolt’s Secret. B56 Cool Sam und Pard¢ or The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlase; or, The B ccnneer’s Girl Foe. 896 Rough Rob; or, The | wi Champions of Blue Blazes, All The Rilken Lasso; or, The Rose of Ranch Robin. 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler, 486 Phil flash, the New York Fox. 445 The City Vamoplres; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Againet Fifty; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar, 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt, 47? The Exceisior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Single Sight, the One-Lyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night ferret, 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. $21 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge. 528 Fox and Falcon, the Bowery Shadows. 588 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 548 Dodger Dick’s Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodeer Dick’s Deaperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick. the Boy Vidocq. 5678 The Two Shadows, 582 Dodger Dick’s Drop. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sharp on Guard. 626 The Champion Parda, F 687 Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. 645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp. 658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beagle. 671 Jersey Jed, the Boy Hustler: or, Shadowing the Shadower. 685 Nappy Muh, the Boy Musician Detective. 701 Photograph Fred, the Camera shez. 715 Wide Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret. BY WM. G. PATTEN. 489 The Diamond Sport: or, The Double Face of Bed Rock, 519 Captain mystery ; or, Five in One, 681 Datsy Dare the Sport from Denver. 587 Old Rombshell, the Ranger Detective. 604 Tron Fern, the Man of Fire. 619 The Boy Tramp Detective; or, The Double Grip Witness 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Sport. 641 Dismal Dave’s Dandy Pard. 651 Bound Boy Frank, the Young Amateur Detective 66% Violet Vane’s Victory. 682 Wild Vulcan; the Lone-Range Rider, 69R Violet d Datay, the Posy Pards, 705 Violet Vane’e Vow; or, The Crafty Detective’s Craft, 714 Old Misery, the Man from Missouri. 724 Violet Vane’s Vengeance. * ig. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 7? The Flytng Vankee} or, The Ocean Outcast, 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccaneer; or, The Fugitive Yacht, 24 Diamond Dirk: or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 62 The Shadow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenanta. 25 The Boy Duellat; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf. 02 Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Smuggier. Il The Sea-De vil 3 or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. 16 The Hussar Captain 3; or, The Hermit of Hell Gate, 97 Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter, 04 Gold Plume; or, Buffalo Bill, the Pony Express Rider, 216 Bison BAll, the Prince of the Reins; or, Butfilo Bill’s Pluck, 222 Grit, the Bravo Sports or, The Woman Trailer. 229 Crimson Kate; or, The Cowboy's Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy ; or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman Mutineers or, Brandt, the Buccaneer, 264 The Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure. 269 The Gold Ship ; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s« Cruise; or, “ The Gold Ship ” Chase, 280 Merle Monte’s Fate ; or, Pearl, the Pirate’s Bride, 284 The Sea Marauder; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. 804 The Dead Siiot Dandy ; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler, 808 Keno Kits or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. 814 The Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Trail. B77 Bonodel, the Buy Rover; or, The Flagless Schooner, 883 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island, 887 Warpath WIN, the Boy Phantom. 898 Seawall, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Inedor, the Young Conspirator; or, The Fatal League, 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. y 412 The Wild Yachtamany; or, The War-Cloud’s Cruise, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, The Corsair. 487 The Sea Raider. ; 441 The Ocean Firefly ; or, A Middy’s Vengeance, 446 Haphazard Harry; or, Tne Scapegrace of the Sea, 450 Wizard Will: or, The Boy Ferret of New York. 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouts, 462 The Born Guide; or, The Sailor Boy Wanderer, 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster. AT4 Flora; or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard, 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Wil)’s Last Case, 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger. 495 Arizona doe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack, 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ¢ or, The Shark and the Sea Cat, 507 The Hunted Midshipman, lawed Middy. n Bill, the Comanche Shadow. 525 Brothers tr Buck«kin. 580 The Buckskin Bowers. The Buc skin Rovers, Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder of the Rb, % Licutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte, Lafitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Son, The Creole Corsair. Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower, 1% Kent Kingdon, the Card King. Camille, the Card Queen, The Surgeon-Scout Detective. The Guteast Cadet; or, The False Detective, The Buckskin Avenger. 591 Delmonte, the Young Sea Rover. 597 The Young Texan Detective. 602 The Vagabond of the Mines, 607 The Rover Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions, 617 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scout; or, The Rio Raiders, 644 The Hercules Mighwaymen: ; 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Rider Detective; or, Buffalo Bill’s Boy Para. 656 Butterfly Billy’s Man Hant. 662 Butterfly Billy’s Bonanza, 668 The Buccancer Midshipman. 674 The Wizard Sailor; or, Red Ralph, the Rover. 679 The Sea Shadowery or, The Freebdooter’s Legacy. 686 Orlando, the Ocean Free Flag; or, Tie Tarnished Name, 692 The Rival Sharps; or, Redfern, the Secret Service Scout. 697 The Scarlet Sombrero; or, The Sharp from Te Pee ot Racket 702 Blue Jacket Bill; or, The Red Hat Rangers’ Red Ho TOT The Red Sombrero Rangers; or, Redfern’s Last ‘Trail. 718 Carl, the Mad Cowboy; or, The Lariat Queen, 719 Pawnee Bill’« Pledge; or, The Cowboy Kidnapper, %25 Daring Dick, Pawnee Bill’s Pard; or, The Red Cavalry Raid, BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon, Wm. F, Cody). 83 Kansas King; or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie. BS Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout, 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’a Trust, LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 729 Silverblade, the Half-Blood; or, The Border Beagle at Bay, By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 780 Violet Vane’s Verdlet; or, The Crooked Game at Coffin City. By Wm. G. Patten. “ 281 Ruth Redmond, the Girl Shadower; or, The Rivala In Buckskin. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham, %B2 Daley Dell, the Pavement Detective; or, Trapping Big Gan, By T. C. Harbaugh. 288 Toltec Tom, the Mad Prospector; or, Unearthing the Cavern League. By Lieut, A. K. Sims. 284 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Double Deal: or, The All- Around Surprise, By Edward L. Wheeler. 785 Broadway Billy’s Business; or, Waking Up Wind Can- yon Camp. By ++ C, Cowdrick, 286 Larry, the Thoroughbred; or, Beatgn on Every Side. By George C. Jenks. 287 Buck Taylor, the Comanche’s Captive; or, Buckskin Sam_ to the Rescue. By Col. Prenties Ingrabam. 288 Broadway Rilly’s Curlous Case; or, The Mysterious Disappearance at Manitou Springs. By J. C. Cowdrick. 789 Bilverblade, the Hostile, or, The Border Bengle’s Ghost Trail. By Jos, E, Badger, Jr. Ready September 22. : 0 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Deathwatch; or, The Moy + Mystery at Mexican Mustang. By Edward hy Wheeler, mm Ready September 29. A New Issue Every Tuesaday: ’ The Half- Dime Library !s for asle by all newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New Yorke \ ‘ Deane / steinagipaieen abe net a seer eyo senting = SSE ~~ nt a * wes eee ee