Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 80) (1879 11 05)
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i rn " > iil cooseereeeeenenenenenentlictliccnmmmemenememmeetenstt tiene ee ee a a ee 7 il kag il EADLE & apams. GID 72) ENTERED AT THE Post OFFICE ‘aT New York, N. Y., ‘AS SECOND Ciass MATTER. ae | Mor vty pat adle ¢ Adams, Publishers, tmnt Wo Qf E) MBIGN Me ecw 5° oom waacegeee cierceecmeen ineack os meter ce nO " = = so SEE SS ESS SES Oe ES VES LS ee Te EES ES OTe SS — wow RE > sit os ~ 5 a | | iban, the Dwarf. _ A MAN OF NERVE; or, Caliban, the Dwarf. BY PHILIP S. WARNE, AUTHOR OF ‘fA HARD CROWD,” ‘‘ THE KIDNAPPER,” “ TIGER DICK,” ‘‘ ALWAYS ON HAND,” ETC,, ETC, DRekceitee ot come >_> | ai \ 18% Wat mr ne LL Ns, is i Ss fi) M) iN Sr » @ALIBAN SNATCHED HIS BOWIE-KNIFE FLOM ITS SHEATH AND ADVAN SED & SINGLE STEP WITH A STAMP THAT MADE THE ROOM BING AGAIN oTr cc »
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2 = a i ee A Man of ‘Nerve: CALIBAN, THE DWARF. A Tale of Denver in her Heroic Age. BY PHILIP 8S. WARNE. AUTHOR OF “THE KIDNAPPER,” “‘ TIGER DICK,” ‘“ ALWAYS ON HAND,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. A QUEER CUSTOMER, Denver in her Heroic Age !—i. e., at the aight of her glory. t is too early in the evening for her nightly orgies to bein full blast. Still there area few loungers at the Miners’ Delight, ‘‘ h’istin’ their pizen” a little languidly, selecting marks with- in easy range of tobacco-juice projectiles, and only now and then exchanging morose mono- syliables across the tables on which they rest their elbows. The door opens a little way, and a head is thrust in. ‘The hair is very unkempt; the beard has known neither razor nor comb for many a ‘lay. .The eyes havea wandering, furtive look, wid seem to want to hide beneath the hat-brim -a very dilapidated affair indeed. They are 1ollow and have a hungry look, in keeping with the pale, emaciated face. After a brief reconnoissance the body follows the head into the room. It is very thin, wast- ed by disease or want, and seems to shrink within its covering of rags, as if it would fain escape notice. The man advanced to the bar with a shambling gate, glancing nervously about, es if deprecating injury. When this rather dubious customer ordered beer and bread in an almost pleading sone, the barkeeper showed none of his wortea alacrity, but looked him over from ‘eau co foot. ‘Oh, Pve got the dust co pay for it!” said the man, understaading the look. After considerable nervous fumbling a small buckskin was produced, large enough, how- aver, to hold much more than it evidently con- tained. | : “Tt’s only a little—I ain’t rich,” said the own- er, with a sickly smile; ‘‘ but it’s enough to pay my footin’, I reckon.” “You don’t look rich, fur a fact!” commented ‘the barkeeper, turning slowly to fill the order, with an amnsed glance at the other occupants of the room, ‘*Some as looks like beggars kin buy an’ sell some as map their b’iled shirts an’ store clo’s,” said a voice, coming in harsh gutturals from a corner of\the room. |The man at the bar turned with his nervous smile and shrinking deprecation. '“That’s a fact, pardner,” he said, “‘but I reckon I hain’t in no such luck. If I only have enough to keep soul an’ body together, I don’t complain,” | He included the other loungers in his smile, ag if seeking their approval, and, taking to the beet and bread, shambled off to a table by him- elf. “ You’rea mighty thin shad, an’ no mistake,” pursued the voice from the corner. ‘I’ve seen cr a looked like you before. Been pros- & ~ The stranger stopped with the glass midway to his mouth, and set it down nervously. “Pye looked about a bit,” he admitted. * Hain’t found nothin’ to speak of, I reckon?” The stranger started and looked frightened. *“‘No—no!” he stammered, seeming to shrink further within himself. ‘‘ Luck’s dead ag’in’ me, It always was!” Emotying his glass at a gulp, he put the re- mainder of his bread away in some receptacle among his rags, and rose hastily to pay his score. There was half an ounce of the gold-dust; and - his request the barkeeper gave him his change money. Then ie shambled out of the saloon, seeming brows, like wolves lurking in ambush. ment later he too rose and left the saloon, It was a starlight night, the moon having not yetrisen, The nervous stranger was dimly dis- haguishable shuffling off down the street. He ylanced apprehensively back at the saloon door; jut the man who had startled him had stepped within the shadow of the building. Warily the “‘shadow ” followed ‘‘ his man” to (he express office, where he saw him pass a buckskin bag across the counter and receive a receipt in return. Emerging he walked with a sore assured step, less apprehensive and more wngrossed in his own thoughts. Passing beyond ihe range of houses, he stop on the river- ‘ank, beneath a wide-spreading cottonwood, and there began to dance, and snap his fingers, aad chuckle to himself. Once or twice he laughed aloud. Was the man crazy? At any renee t rm A Man of Nerve. rate he was strangely happy for one whose rags fluttered in the wind. : When he had enjoyed his solitary medita- tions to his satisfaction, he turned back into the town, and curled up beneath a temporary shed to oe With a contemptuous grunt the ‘‘ shadow” left him and repaired to the express Office, where the packages were being checked off, the stage coach having just arrived. In a monotonous drawl the agent read:— “‘ Preston—Boston—gold-dust five hundred.” | ** Check!” The ‘‘shadow” did not hear the name dis- tinctly; but guessing at the facts from the | rest, he snorted and worked his jaws with a suck- | ing sound, like an enraged hog: *Sluff! Slaff! Sluff!” CHAPTER II. BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. Days and weeks have passed. The sun is aang warm and bright. Its ardor is tem- red by a refreshing breeze blowing from the est, where it has kissed yonder snow-capped peaks which seem to rest against the very sky, and then gather sweet balsamic odors from the pine-feathered crests nearer at hand. The Overland stage-coach is already due; and more than one eye turns toward the East, where the crest of the slope on which the town is built bounds the horizon, when the crack of a whip, like the report of a pistol, announces its oho. own the smooth road sweeps the swaying vehicle, to fetch up before the hotel with that plunging and snorting of mettlesome chargers which has made the stage-driver a man of im- portance from time immemorial. No one takes any interest. in the fellow with a knapsack who has come to push his fortunes in the “ gold-diggin’s;” but when a young girl leaps lightly out, and turning, assists a lady who may be her mother to ht, every eye brightens with admiration, and bearded lips relax their stern set. The girl, our heroine, is a fresh young blonde, with eyes of heaven’s own blue, and, falling to her waist, light, fluffy hair, of that ineffable golden sheen over which poets rave and paint- ers despair. Her eyes go over the strange, rude face of the people whom she has come among with a wondering half-smile which wins every heart; then she puts a supporting arm about her mother, who is evidently an invalid, and leads her into the hotel. A word will tell all that need be known of the new arrivals at this point of our story. Failing in business, Mr.’ Preston had left his Boston home to retrieve, his fortunes in the West. Later, he had sent for his wife and daughter, but for some reason failed to receive them at their point of destination, Worn out by her fatiguing journey,the invalid soon sunk to sleep, and the girl went to the window, to gaze admiringly at the wondrous beauty of the mountain range, which rose peak wed cy in the distance, and curiously at the unfamiliar sights presented in the street below. There were rude miners in flannel shirts and heavy cowhide boots, looking brigandish enough, what with their unkempt ds and array of pistols and bowie-knives, There were Mexican rancheros, with their broad sombreros and gay- colored serapes and the ornate leather trappings of the vicious little mustangs, which they goaded with such merciless spurs and curbed with such cruel bits. There were one or two friendly Indians, with fierce stoicism and ma- jestic step, looking as if they scorned their conquerors—how different from the broken- rg vagabonds she had occasionally seen in t e East, selling bead toys, or making mendicity | a cloak for theft! All these she viewed curiously, but she shrunk back with something like a shudder at sight of an object on the other side of the way. It was aman whose short stature and dis- torted body showed him to be a dwarf, by some accident during childhood, rather than by na- ture. His breast protruded in front, corres- nding to the ugly hunch on his back, leaving is huge head to sink into the hollow between his shoulders. His arms, which would have been long even had his body been perfectly de- veloped,reached below his knees, and swung be- hind him as he waddled like the arms of a baboon. But it was his face that was most monstrous. It was surrounded, almost hidden, by a tan- gled mass of hair and beard. The eyes looked woefully out from beneath shaggy, beetlin brows. The jaws were massive, the mout wide, with one yellow tusk protruding so as to shut down over the bestial lower lip. The ef- fect was horrible when, under strong excite- ment, he champed his jaws like an angry hog. How long he had been looking at her the girl did not know; but at last the burning intensity of his attracted her eye to his, and with a sickening sense of horror she felt as if those ter- rible jaws were crushing her bones, while his fetid breath suffocated her. Beauty and the Beast stood face to face, earh | fascinating the other, the one by his fien ush ugliness, t 1t"" ea ™ pear °- - WwW ould that terribie attraction entangle their ves? The girl fled shuddering from the window ; the | dwarf drew a deep, rasping breath, tore his | eyes away and moved on down the street, his bre glowing like lambent flames, his hands clutching and tearing at each other, and his | horrible jaws champing until flecks of foam _ Stood on his repulsive lips. _ God protect the innocent one, nor let her fa) into the power of this ugly ghoul! CHAPTER III. THE DWARF’S WRONGS. ; WHEN the stage-coach rattled up, the dwani stood among the crowd in front of the hotel. Every eye being attracted by the beauty of ‘the girl, no one saw how deeply the dwarf was at ected. With a stealthy movement he shrunk fron sight behind the taller men, and peered at tba girl between their bodies. When the ladies had disappeared, he stepped to the hotel register and read the names iy scribed in a fair, schooi-girl hand: “Mrs. Jas. K. Presroy. Miss Cora PRESTON.” A sudden hush fell upon the dwarf, as hi: greedy eyes drank in the names—a cessation o| the breath and, it seemed, of the very beating of his heart. It was the paralysis of a master- ful emotion—hatred! ‘Preston! Preston! James K. Preston!” he repeated, not with his lips, but in his seething brain. ‘‘ Preston—of Boston! and James Preston! Son of Colonel James K. Preston? A thousand million furies rend and tear him! An endless fire consume his vitals—” ‘Hallo! What's the matter?” asked the land- lord, staring at him, blankly. n his fury the dwarf had clutched at tha name on the register, so as to crumple the leaf. With a scowl] and something like a muttered oath; he turned away, and at the bar ordered brandy, which he swallowed at a gulp. The crowd had lounged away from the front of the hotel by this time. Crossing the street, the dwarf caught sight of Cora at the window. _ Her face wore a rapt look. She was drinking in the grandeur of the mountain scenery with an artist’s appreciation. With a strange blending of emotions the dwarf gazed at her. Now he scanned every lineament of her face to detect the Preston like- ness, and his eyes flamed, his ha..ds worked spasmodically, ‘and his jaws champed and ground his teeth with rage. But anon her ethe- real loveliness awed him into quiet—she looked so like an angel, with the westering sun falling upon her fair face and golden hair. A strange languor stole over him, and unconsciously lis hands clas themselves as if in adoration. A moment like this was followed by a whelming: flood of sadness that made his lips quiver and his eyes grow humid. But ere the tears fell they were burned up by the fires of returning fury. “So she saw him, and, after one moment 01 sickening fascination, fled away. ‘Revenge! Revenge! RevENGE!” Hurrying down the street, he ground the words between his teeth, as if he were crunch- ing her to atoms; his claw-like fingers clutched at one another, as if he were tearing her to shreds. ‘ Then there was the sluff! sluff! sluff! of his working mouth, so horribly suggestive, as he strode on, looking neither “& the right nor to the left, but straight before him into vacancy, until he had gained the outskirts of the town. By this time he was quieted—at least, the passion of fury was allayed; but great beads of sweat stood on his forehead, and his L | clasped in a-convulsive gripe, while his brows were knit in a frown of pain. : ‘“‘My God! how I love her!” he cried aloud, looking up into the heaven around which the curtains of night were fast falling, as if appeal- ing to the who sat enthroned beyond the stars that were coming out, one by one, in the ee canopy. a would give life—ay! I would barter my soul for one smile—one caress: ing touch—one kiss— Oh, oe is face sunk into his hands, while great sobs of agony shook his distorted frame. | Suddenly he tore away his hands in a fury of self-contempt, and with clenched fists, set teeth and blazing eyes, cried: ““ Love! hat am I, to talk of love? Ha! ha! ha!”—laughing with blood-curdling bitter- ness—‘‘a toad! !—a turtle!—a monster with just enough of humanity to be devilish!—a hideous parody on man at which dogs bark and from which children run shrieking with terror! Han!” With that fierce aspiration he clutched at his breast and stood glaring up at heaven, as if he would tear out his own heart and burl it with scorn back into the teeth of the Power that had given it so ill-shapen a casket. | ‘ : But that mood passed, and with an impatient gesture he said: “Bah! Why do I take Heaven to task for what is the work of man? Did Feaven give me this misshapen trunk? No! 4 buve e other by her sylph-like loveliness, | told that I was as comely,a brat *. ever saw , mee s hands were . se
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my mother’s arms and dashed me to the ground had little to do with heaven, good wot! To his accursed hatred I owe my turtle shape! And shall I not repay him hate for hate? He is be- yond m deserved. But he parent upon the innocent child. Shall I not profit by his lesson? He turned what might have been a man into a fiend; for would not so hideous a habitation—not to mention the scoffs and hatred, the contempt and fear of every liv- ing thing—distort the fairest soul ever created? Is it not meet, then, that his child, though in the second generation shall reap what he sowed? Is she too good to mate with the thing his hand made? Ha! I can gratify my love and my hate by a single cast. “Revenge! Revenge! REVENGE !” Far into the night this man whose hideous form set him apart from all mankind, an out- cast from human sympathy and fellowship strode under God’s calm sky and meditated mortal vengeance for the wretchedness the hand of a fellow-mortal had brought upon him. * And her father,” he muttered—‘* the imme- diate heir to the debt I owe the devil who made me what I am! I must not overlook him. Where is he? And why are his wife and daughter in such a place as this alone? baw 4 know nothing of me. I could talk to the girl, and she would not dream that such a creature as I had ever crossed her op oa path. I must get acquainted with her and learn about her father.” After pondering a moment, he resumed: “She is young. She has a tender heart. If I approach her as afriend—a benefactor, she will Nido her fear and loathing, and, if I do not touch her, will not shudder orscream. She will pity my misfortune!”—with a withering sneer. Hah! carse the fate that cuts me off from all human tenderness save pity! I hate them that pity more than them that despise! And yet— oh, God! how I love her! Iam such a dog that I crave a gentle look from her, even in pity!” He sunk to the ground, to grovel in abject wretchedness, as he moaned: “Years! years! without one grain of wo- man’s love!l—without one smile, without one touch in affection!—until my heart has burned itself to ashes with fruitless longing and hatred and wretchedness! I have been taunted with the sour wine of self-interested tolerance, with now and then an infusion of the gall of pity! Kicks and jeers and contumely were preferable to that! Oh, curse them all!’ In a frenzy of pain he leaped to his feet and a young sapling and shook it, as if he 1d all humanity by the throat. Calmed by this outburst, he — again to plot the redress of the particular gelovasite which was the cause of all the rest; and when he again sought the town his plans were formed. But the dwarf had scarcely turned from the spot which had witnessed his pain when a man appeared from the shadows near at hand. He was gaunt and hollow-eyed, made even more wild-looking by his unkempt hair and beard. As he crept away he glared around him, as if fearing an enemy in every bush, and wringing his hands, he kept moaning piteously below his breath: “My God! My God!” CHAPTER IV. A DEER, A RATTLESNAKE AND A TURTLE. Tue Miners’ Delight, and at a table Caliban the dwarf, opposite a young man who looked as if he expected—and deserved!—a kick from everybody—a man with whom gambling was a mania, and liquor as necessary as bread. Cali- ban’s face was a mask of bronze; his opponent was flushed with success. “You are in vein to-night,” remarked the dwarf, quietly. + Denny fs I met a deer, , my ae a turtle,” replied his opponent, smiling faintly, as if he Moustit the dwarf might help him read the “ signs.” “‘ Ah!” was the only reply vouchsafed. The next game was won by the dwarf. Bradley’s “luck had changed.” After that fortune varied, until Bradley leaned back against the wall, saying simply: ‘“ Bu’sted!” ‘You had your deer in your first rapid win- nings. This is your rattlesnake. Your turtle— slow, but sure—comes last,” said the dwarf, tempting him. “T hain’t got nothin’ to stake, if a million was waitin’ fur me in the next hand,” said the gam- bler, ruefully. Your provisions?” suggested Caliban, shuf- fling the cards, knowing their music was like the voice of the Siren to the ears of his victim. Bradley’s face brightened. He ‘took a hand;” and his provisions went the way of his dust. He leaned against the wall in without a word. The dwarf rapped on the table for more Yiquor. ; A Man of Nerve. “‘ Your luck is bound to turn,” he said. ‘‘ Your turtle don’t go for nothin’. There’s your tools, they’ll do fora stake. They ain’t worth nothin to me; but ’m willin’ to give a man a show, if he’s cl’ar grit. If he’s a coyote—” The dwarf finished the sentence with a sig- nificant shrug. The coyote yielded to the temptation to prove himself not a coyote. As for the hopes based upon them, his mining implements were a rope of sand. “It’s mighty rough, I admit,” said the dwarf; “but you stand it likeaman. I reckon the old jade’s jest a-tryin’ of you, mad because she can’t draw a whimper out of you. But she likes to see a man keep a stiff upper lip. When he shows that he can’t be t, and that he won’t be beat, she turns square round and is powerful sweet on him, sometimes. And then there’s that turtle—I stick to that. If ou’d just stake your claim, now, she wouldn’t ave the cheek.” Bradley had been well plied with liquor. The dwarf opposed a heavy stake to the claim. Everybody knows—or thinks he knows (which amounts to pretty much the same thing)—that desperate men succeed when all others fail. Seeing a way to retrieve all his losses, the des- perate gambler staked his claim, and, by the thief’s code, lost all right and title thereto. It seemed that “‘ the jade ” had ‘‘the cheek ” for almost anything that night. “That finishes the e—and me!” said Bradley, his now ghastly face contorted by a sickly smile. ‘*T wish I could give you another show,” said the dwarf. ““T hain’t got nothin’ but the clo’s to my back,” said his victim, with grim humor. “ Stake them,” Caliban spoke Fh as if it were the com- monest thing in the world to return to primitive nakedness for the gratification of the lust for The Futaed gambler laughed a hard, rasping laugh, as he asked: ‘* Will you wait for ’em till they pull me out of the river, to-morrow morning “c Yes.” ‘Deal away!” The cards were run out. The cards were played. Whatever may have been the significance of the turtle, ‘‘the jade” left Mr. Bradley in a state to go cut of the world with just what he b ht into it. o t turtle means something,” said the dwarf, in seeming Pee as pit “Tt means that [’'ma dog-gauned fool!” said Bradley bitterly. The dwarf shook his head, while he shuffled the cards in an absent way. Presently he looked up, with an idea. “T kin give ye jest one more show,” he said. “T’d like to know whar my stake’s comin’ from,” said Bradley, with a hard laugh. ‘‘Put up your body!” Bradley started and turned pale. “Tush, man!” said the dwarf, impatiently. “What would it be to me, if I won? e can’t hold white slaves in this ag pt so I could make no use of it alive; and dead—you don’t think I'd have the carrion on my hands? But I’m ready to give a man a show, when he shows such pluck.” “The “jade” was still coy; and Mr. Bradley’s body became the property of his ghoul-like tempter. . His eyes glitte with the insanity of con- templa suicide, Bradley laughed a rasping laugh through his clenched tee With bitter So “Ts there an e ou wan The dwarf’s eyes tases: his teeth glittered beg his shaggy beard; his rat. le crooked like claws; he looked a very fiend, as leaning across the table, he hissed: “Your sou!” Bradley leaped from his seat with a gasping ery; and his lips livid, every nerve aquiver and his hand clutched in his hair, glared at the tempter. e dwarf, still leaning across the table, laughed a ghoulish laugh, and his mouth began to go sluff! sluff! sluff! as if he were some hideous vampire eager to feast on the soul he craved. “* Are you the devil?” demanded Bradley, with a superstitious thrill. “See!” and as if Your’ en) the einige possessed by a very fiend, he struck a match and ignited the liquor in Bradley’s glass. “Drink!” he commanded, extending the glass, crowned with blue flame, to his horrified vic- tim. Bradley drew his breath in rapid and at the flames as if fascinated. mae “Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the dwarf. ‘ You did not ng! a the oracle aright. You were to flee with the speed of a deer from a rattle- snake in the form of a turtle—that’s me! Now it is too late! Come! come! your soul—it is in- evitable!” ’ With a shiver, his to’ knees refusing to oo him any longer, Bradley sunk back in- te his seat. —— CHAPTER V. THE LITTLE JOKER. Sree the effect of his devilish words and actions, the mood of the dwarf changed. Put- ting his broad palm over the mouth of the lass, he smothered the. flames, and leaning k, laughed heartily, yet with a tincture of savage bitterness, “Ha! ha! ha! ha! DoI play the devil well?” he asked. And then: ** Come, Bradley! don’t be a fool! Ireckon | I'd have to play with Satan for your soul, if I wanted it; for no doubt he jumped your claim to it a good while ago. But what 1 do want, and what you can give me, is your will. And I propose to play for it in this way:—you stake your will against this bag of dust; if you win, the dust is yours; if you lose the dust is still yours, but in exchange you do just what I want you to do!” “Is it murder?” asked Bradley, with chatter- ing teeth. ‘Pah!” sneered the dwarf. ‘‘ You haven’t the courage for that. No! All I wantis that you stand up and let me kick you until I am satisfied. Come! is it a go?” Bradley was too much bewildered to answer. ‘“*T promise not to ask you to injure any man,” pursued the dwarf. ‘Here is the gold-dust—it was yours two hours a d this glass stands for your will. There they are in the pot, and here are your cards. Come! what do you do?’ Caliban dealt the cards rapidly. Mechanically Bradley took his hand. In a moment he had forgotten his past losses, his present strange stake—everything—in the ex- citement of the game. Again he lost! He tcpe helplessly up to his successful op- nent, The dwarf pushed the bag of gold-dust across the table into the hand of the gambler (who re- i i it mechanically) and arose from the table. “‘There’s your dust,” he said, ‘and the first thing I demand. of you is that you drop your fool notion of suicide. I’ve got work for you; and I won’t have it spoiled by any of your non- sense. When I am done with you—then you can go hang, if you like. For the present, have something to drink, — After a week of anxious waiting for the hus- band and father, Mrs. Preston left the more ex- pers hotel life, and took a cottage, where ra’s needle could support them. Forming the acquaintance of a gardener’s sick wife, liv- ing a mile out of the town down the Platte, Cora visited her nearly every day, fearing no danger in her lonely walk, knowing nothing of the lynx-eyed ghoul who crouched among alder-bushes as she passed, biding his time, Fascinated by his love for her, the dwarf had devised a mock rescue, hoping to win her friendship through her gratitude. His tool, the copate, radley, was ever at his side. ne day Cora was detained longer than usual. The stars were already lit when sti came along, singing softly to herself. ‘“Now is our time!” muttered the dwarf. “Come! out with you into the road!” Bradley shivered with dread of what might follow, if it became known that he had insulted a woman for whom every one in Denver was ready to fight; but a black scowl from the dwarf and the partial drawing of a bowie-knife oaded him to desperation, and he stepped forth rom the bushes. Finding herself suddenly confronted, Cora started from her meditations with a quick lift- ing of the hands and a suppressed cry. ‘ Hallo, pretty one!” exclaimed Bradley, with a drunken leer. “My eye! but you gave me a start. What are you doin’ off hyar at this time ou i Does yer nae Fy Por yore atest “Let me pass, sir!” said the gi wing herself erect with dignity. i Her little heart was all aflutter; but she hoped that a bold front might command respect. “Oh, now, but you’d ought to have company, you know. Let me see you home—do!” Ang her persecutor advanced with extended hand. It was only a‘ woman, and after the first plunge he began to pluck up heart and enter into the spirit of the fun. “T want none of your company, sir,” said Cora. ‘How dare you interfere with me? Let me pass, I say!” But she retreated backward efore his ad- vance, “ Pshaw, now! Won't take my arm?” laughed Bradley. ‘“ Well, if P've offended you, let us kiss on’ make up.” The girl turned and walked more rapidly in the direction from which she had come, looking back at her assailant over her shoulder, paling with apprehension. | Chuckling and rubbing his hands with ghoul- ish glee, the dwarf emerged from the bushes, yet kept within the shadow of the trees, to fol- ow therm. “You shall repent this insult!” said Cora, still bravely. ‘For the last time, will you stand. cut of my path and let. me pass!”
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a , ___A Man of Nerve. * Not without a kiss, my beauty!” said Brad- ley, and extending both arms he strode rapidly toward her. With a scream, Cora sped away in panic- stricken flight. A few bounds and the arms of her pursuer closed about her. ‘“Oh! oh! oh! oh!” went up her piercing sereams, as she struggled helplessly. ‘*Now for it!” chuckled the dwarf, and he vras about to spring to the rescue, when he was startled by a clear, ringing shout just behind him; and as he shrunk back into the bushes he \7as passed by a form that cleared the ground ia great leaps. The next instant Bradley was collared by an iron hand and kicked by a foot in nowise lack- ing vigor, through the bushes and down the river-bank into the water. “By all the gods of war!” chuckled the dwarf who was not wanting in a sense of humor, ‘‘ but that Mir done as neatly as I could have done it inyself! hen, as a perception of its effect on his plans flashed across his mind, he muttered: “T held the right bower; but this fellow has played the Little Joker. euchered |” And his eyes flamed beneath brows as black as night; his hand grasped the heft of his bowie- spt and his mouth began to sluff! sluff! Stu By the furies! Iam —_— CHAPTER VI. ' CORA PRESTON DISAPPEARS. Wuen Cora Preston felt herself freed from the grasp of the dwarf’s tool, she stood in breath- less Lt aay oS Having kicked her assailant into the water, the broad-shouldered athlete who had so oppor- tunely come to her rescue emerged from the bushes and stood again before her in the star- light, hat in hand. “Miss,” he said in a brisk, cheery voice, “T reckon that fellow won’t trouble you any more; but, seeing that you’ve had a little fright, if ou'll accept me as an escort, it ’ll be a pleasure see you safely home.” His voice thrilled her (as the voice of the Prince always does the first time he and Beauty ridet) and she had not a particle of fear of him, though he was a stranger. But she heard Bradley floundering in the water, and instantly was all concern, without a Lt of resentment. “Oh, sirt? she exclaimed. “Will he not ‘drown?’ “Drown? Oh,no, Never fear but he'll crawl oon OE sneak off, like the cowardly coyote that e is, Toe young man ke lightly, in an off-hand way that pleased Cora not . litule. ‘“T suppose you were going this way?’ he sa: 1, turning toward the town. 0 Yes,” she replied, walking demurely at his ene, One swift glance had shown her a man of per- haps twenty-five, with square-built, muscular frame, in a miner’s dress of flannel shirt open at the throat, trowsers tucked into the tops of heavy boots and saarotied at the waist by a belt, which also held a pistol at the back and a Lowie-knife at the hip; a head. poised firmly on a neck which rose like a column from his mas- sive shoulders, and crowned by jet-black hair lying in rings which the wind lifted lightly; a face shaded by a full beard and lighted by a pair of fun-loving eyes. Out, of the corner of her eye Cora noted the free sweep of his step, as they walked along. She found, too, that her eyes were justona line with his shoulder, How strong and fearless he seemed. It would be so nice to have just such a brother! Only—with a little flush—she felt conscious of a sense of gladness that he was not her brother. As for the stranger, he looked at his pretty companion with nothing of the awkward em- barrassment of a rustic. He looked as if he would be at his ease in any company, with the nobility of conscious manhood. Just now he was saying to himself: “By Jove! ain’t she about as daintyas they make ’em? Everett, old boy, you’re in luck! Here you've rescued the queen of the fairies, and—’ Aloud he said: “Everybody knows that it would be awfully naughty to be seen home by a gentleman that vou hadn’t been introduced to; so I'll just say: {iss Preston, allow me to present to you Mr. Ccorze Everett!—Mr. Everett, Miss Preston !— Madam, I am delighted to make your uain- tance !—and it’s all done, don’t you see?_ I know your name, though I have never had the pleasure of seeing you before; for of course it would be silly for me to ask you if you are not the lady whom they call Beauty, when my own eyes are sufficient evidence.” The implied compliment—a little broad,it must he coufessed—was delivered in a sportive way tliat redeemed it from rudeness, Asif he had been a friend since childhood the girl looked up into his laughing face and began impulsively: “Who calls me—?”’ So Mey Mpeg She broke off abruptly, the conscious blood streaming over neck aud brow and her eyes falling in painful embarrassment. ‘*Oh, everybody !—myself included,” laughed Everett. Cora bridled, just the faintest bit, and then bowed a little stiffly. “Thank you, Mr. Everett!” she said, in a tone whose significance could not be mistaken. Her companion was amused by her pretty assumption of dignity; but he liked her the bet- ter for it. “T beg your pardon,” he said, with sudden seriousness; ‘‘ but we of the West are perhaps a little free and easy with our tongues, like our prairie winds.” The words were scarcely out of his mouth when Cora waselectrified by a pistol-shot which seemed to be at her very ear, and she saw her companion fall heavily to the ground. But the scream died on her lips. So bewildered was she that she did not hear the snarling ejaculation, like the cry of some animal, nor the rending of the bushes, as a dark form leaped into the road. But she felt herself grasped ya pair of arms that closed about her like steel bands—felt herself raised bodily from the ground, and then overcome by terror and dismay at the supposed death of her protector of a moment before, she swooned, without so much as seeing her assailant. Meanwhile Bradley had dragged himself from the water in no amiable mood. But he had scarcely time to take an inventory of his hurts, when he heard the report of a pistol, fol- lowed by a quickly stifled scream. ‘The devil has shot her!” he exclaimed, and started in the direction of the sound. He advanced with great caution, eager to see what had occurred, yet not wishing the dwarf to discover that he was witness to a deed which might make it to the interest of the other to £ him out of the way; but, in turning a bend in the road, he unexpectedly came upon a scene which made him wish himself miles away. By the starlight he,could discover the form of a man lying in the road, and the dwarf standing over him his repulsive mouth going sluff! sluff! sluff! as was usual when he was in great excitement or rage. efore Bradley could shrink to cover, the dwarf caught sight of him, and with a harsh ejaculation bounded toward him. In abject terror Bradley took to his heels; but his wet clothing impeded his movements, and by the time the chase had gone half a mile he felé a heavy hand on his collar. Instantly he dropped upon his knees. “Mercy! Mercy!” he cried. ‘‘ For the love 0’ Heaven, don’t kill me! I didn’t see nothing, oa you know I wouldn’t say nothing, if I did. nly— You cowardly cur! is it you?” cried the dwarf jerking him to his feet. ‘I have a mind to let some o’ the water out o’ yer veins for leading me this chase all for nothing.” “Don’t! don’t!” began the coyote, trembling so that his knees knocked ther: but the dwarf shook him into silence and demanded:— ‘Did any one pass you with the girl?” “No; [haven’t seen any one.” ‘Come back with me, and help me search for her. Some one has carried her off. Come! gag okt hey found Geo, Everett still lying uncon- scious in the road. After beating the bushes in the vicinity and looking out over the plain, the dwarf gave over the search as hopeless. ‘Whoever took her has had plenty of time to make off with her while you led me on that stupid chase, thinking that you were the rascal,” muttered the dwarf, discontentedly. Bradley did not understand the situation at all; but ge it incumbent ne him to sa something, and anxious tq free himself from all possible blame, he said, deprecatingly : ‘‘T haven’t seen anything 0’ the girl since you kicked me into the river.” , ‘Since J kicked you into the river?” repeated the dwarf, in “a gam “Yes,” replied Bradley, a little inclined to resent the extent to which the indignity had been carried. ‘I hope you got your money’s worth.” : . ‘* Faith, I never kicked you ! cried Caliban. “The deuce you didn’t!” ; The dwarf egehed, in spite of the gravity of the moment. ‘You must be crazy.” “Well, perha: I was dreaming,” replied Bradley, ruefully; ‘‘ but it has left me feeling mighty sore—unless I’m asleep yet.” t that the dwarf roared with laughter. “You may laugh,” said Bradley, dolefully; “but it’s no matter for me to make merry over.” “You blasted fool!” cried the dwarf, as he could fetch breath, ‘are you blind or drunk, that you do not know that it was not I who kicked you?” At the explanation which followed, Bradley looked more crestfallen than ever. “T reckon I’ve filled my part o’ the bill, an’ this hyar performance hain’t got to be gone through with again,” he said, anxiously fore- casting the future. “There’s salve for whatever bruises you have oe ye dine 9 98 5 #457 @ ae ae, ee ————aaey received,” said the dwarf, tossing some coins 4 his discomfited tool. ‘*You needn’t be afrai | that the same programme will be produce | twice. I am done with you fur to-night; bu’ the game ain’t played out yet.” ‘I hope the next hand will have more trump? and fewer bumps!” said Bradley, his spirits ris ing in contemplation of the number of drink the money he had just received would buy. “But mind you,” cautioned the dwarf, wit} an ominous frown, ‘‘ not a word about this busi ness!” Bradley was profuse in assurances; but whev he was alone he muttered: ‘‘Maybe you’ve pulled the wool over mj eyes, and maybe you hain’t! If that girl ever turns up again, I reckon you won’t be far off. Was Bradley right? ad the dwarf already got the beautiful girl in his power? CHAPTER VII. A COOL HAND. AND now, dear reader, it is time to introdua to yon the man who is to play the part of tly: evil magician in our drama, He was a small man, certainly not above tli average hight and of very slender build. The epithet pogent most aptly describes him. He had small hands, daintily white and with care- fully kept nails. His feet, unusually small, were incased in patent-leather boots. His fig- ure was straight and symmetrical, shown to the best advantage by the dress of a gentleman in an eastern city. His hair was a glossy chest- nut brown, as fine as Cora’s own, and of that character which can be arranged by runnin the fingers through it. His forehead was mnooth and white; his brows delicately peneiine his gray eyes penetrating, yet not unpleasantly so; is nose straight with flexible nostrils; his mouth shaded by a carefully trained mustache, the color and fineness of his hair, below which his even white teeth showed when he smiled—a very engaging smile. By all the ST ice rules of the ologies and og- nomies Mr. Ethelbert Grayson ought to have worn cloven hoofs and a tail, and at least rudi- mentary horns—but he did not; his nails ought to have been trimmed to a point—on the con- trary, they were finely oval; his eyes ought tc have been near together, beneath tufted brows, and pointing to the end of his nose, which ough! to have been hooked, and his mustaches ought to have pointed upward, following the angle of a pointed chin—none of which peculiarities, as a fact, aes him from an ordinary gentleman, wi the ordinary admixture of good and evil, redeemed from effeminacy, which might have been expected from his deli, cate i poner a by a certain steadiness of the eye which proclaimed the niaster-spirit. This was to be George Everett’s opponent Would the true prince, or the magician, win? The dwarf was so deep in the meditation o) future plots, as he passed through the town that he paid no heed to the persons he met. He was abruptly recalled to the present by a pecu liar whistle, ' ’ He stopped as if shot, turning his head bui slowly, yet his eyes glaring around with a vigi lance iV eas let nothing escape them. ‘‘ Perdition! Has he come again? Have } not been harried enough?” he muttered, savage- ly. y‘Then his roving eyes discerned Grayson, and fastened upon him with burning intensity, If Mr. Ethelbert Grayson had given the signa] he gave no indication of itnow. He sauntered leisurely along, without seeming to have notic- ed the dwarf. Nevertheless the latter turned and followed him—at a distance yet keeping him in sight. On the outskirts of the town, Ethelbert Gray- son inserted a key into the door of a cabin a lit- tle removed from its neighbors, and entered, closing the door behind him, His cigar afford- ed sufficient light to enable him to find his way across the otherwise dark room, to a iounge or bunk upon which he threw himself on his back, a ing his hands comfortably at the back of 1s head. Presently the dwarf entered without knock- ing, closed the door, and stood in the darkness with his back against it. ““Well?” he said, simply. A remarkable change was noticeable in his voice. It was as harsh as ever; but its boldness seemed sapped. However, through its cowed humility ran a thread of fierce, rebellious hatred. It was as if the tiger snarled while yet he licked his master’s foot. Grayson seemed careless of this; for, without changing his position, he said, lightly: “T see you are here.” ‘‘ Needs must when the devil drives!” snarlea the dwarf. “Are you surly as ever, Caliban?” laughed his master, unconcernedly. “What matters the humor of your slave, so bg i does your bidding?’ e The perfect contempt of Grayson’s answer lay in the quiet indifference with which he acqui- esced in the dwarf’s savage words. Caliban, as he had been called, writhed as if a hand had been laid on a poisoned dagger that ¥
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/ A Man of Nerve. rankled in his vitals. If looks could annihilate, the deadly glances that darted from his blood- | shot eyes through the darkness at that nag reclining figure, faintly discernible when the cigar glowed, would have burned the Magician to nothingness. y There was an interval of silence, in which the dwarf breathed hard, while his master rolled the cigar meditatively in his mouth. Then the latter spoke: : “Tt is needless for me to seek confirmation of my suspicion that you ‘shook’ me with the purpose of severing our connection for good and all?” ; ‘Slaves have tried to burst their-chains be- / fore!” snapped the dwarf. * and failed !” There was a touch of the iron in Grayson’s just perceptible emphasis, but he went on, ee ‘* A little ungracious of pont: “Did IT ever owe you allegiance?—for what, pray?’ demanded the dwarf, ce “Oh, my dear Caliban, everything!” laugh- ae , * For instance— “My company, Cal.” ‘* Your tyranny!” ‘A name!” with a shrug. ‘But is there no henor in serving such a master?” “There is little honor in the dirty work you hive imposed!” “All are not born to the scepter, you know, ard the dirty work must be done by somebody. And I have requited your services.” “Not by gold!” with a cutting sneer. “Ha! ha! ha! Well, no—not by gold, and that’s a fact. The ‘filthy’ has for the most part passed the other way, I grant you. But, as I ssid, you have been permitted the intimacy of a gentleman—” f 4 The refining influence of whose society is something!” “Yes. Ha! ha!—” «For which condescension most humble thanks!” ‘ The stinging irony in the dwarf’s deliberate enunciation amused his master hugely. “You are in an unusually appreciative mood to-night,” he laughed. “Pray proceed,” sneered the dwarf. m slight services received any further recog- nition than this etherializing influence of your | ‘ Thank you!’—don’t I?” | worshipful society?” ‘“H’m! I always sa (Jraysor spoke a little impatiently. ““Most surely! But even that may not be all.” ‘There was an interval of silence. When Grayson spoke his voice was as smooth ‘* Have | | the doorway from the rayless darkness wit as silk; but the darkness covered a steely glitter | o/ the eyes that bespoke cruel purpose. ~ ie tok ” he sald, simply. Knowing him so well, and but for the tower- ing passion he was in, the dwarf might have bven warned by the sudden quiet in his master’s v»ice. As it was, he rushed madly on. “Well?” “‘T have repaid you in one other way.” ‘* My gratitude awaits your announcement.” ‘** And I must jog your memory?” ** T beg your most gracious pardon !—yes.” ““Well, then, by raising your daughter from—” ** PERDITION!” The word shot forth like a thunderbolt. The divarf snatched his bowie-knife from its sheath aid advanced a single step with a stamp that made the room ring again. His fang-like teeth | were bared; his eyes seemed to dart living flame; and his breath came and went with a hiursh, hissing sound; while his stunted form was crouched so as to be scarcely higher than Wie table. His master never moved a muscle, nor deigned *o much as a look. His head was in the lion’s snouth, but he seemed sure of his power. ‘Well, no—not from perdition,” he said, varelessly ; ‘* but from the degradation of savage tife, to become the—the companion of a Chris- tian gentleman.” Then a death-like silence fell between them. CHAPTER VIII. GRAYSON’S BANKER. Ir was a weird interview there in the inky darkness, where the dwarf’s passion-distorted face was invisible, and the com d features of his master were faintly illuminated and tien obscured as he puffed slowly at his cigar. The dwarf had sustained a terrible shock, and recovered slowly. | Grayson gave him time. . The minutes dragged slowly by; yet neither fv0oke. When Grayson’s cigar had burned nearly to his lips, he lighted a second, and threw the stump into the fire-place. Caliban’s eyes followed the parabolic curve cescribed by the moving pont of light, and then returned to the one which glowed intermittent- ly above Grayson’s face. He was now standing erect—as erect as his ceformity permitted; his knife had been thrust bick into its sheath; his eyes had returned to their old light of dull, brooding hatred; his breath came more evenly, His voice was under control when he said, at last: ‘‘ What do you want with me?” “An old want, Caliban,” said his master, as if nothing unusual had passed between them, ‘* Gold, of course.” “* Of course.” ; “You never soil your lily fingers getting it yourself!” ‘*‘ Why should I, when I have so bounteous a purveyor?” ““ Why indeed!” sneered the dwarf. ‘** You never fail me, Caliban.” “How much do you want?’—sharply. “‘Oh, you know best,”—with a yawn. “*Tt’s a pity to trouble your radiant effulgence to name a sum!” “You know I hate details. Get me all you can.” “A pound?” ‘* Yes—or ten pounds.” “Any where from two hundred and fifty to twenty-five hundred dollars!” ‘* Don’t higgle! . You know it costs nothing.” * One wou! think you had unlimited coffers at your command,” * They are limited only by the bounds of this delightful oasis of civilization in the desert of barbarism—Denver and vicinity !” “ And their contents are accessible by means of—” ‘** Skilled labor! Ha! ha! ha!” ‘“Yes—akin to that which picks locks and opens safes—” ‘‘Or veins, Caliban!—or veins !” o Ah!” A pause; then: ** How soon do you want this gold?” “ To-night.” ‘* The time is short.” ““That’s your affair,” **Say to-morrow, at noon.” “That won’t do. I must have it to-night.” ** Suppose our patron, the devil, fails to throw in my way some fool who is willing to give me his dust, under the delusion that he is getting the cards fortune—not art !—deals him?” “‘ Bah! my good fiend, have I ever stipulated how you should get the gold? All I say is— tit!” a Ah |” Lack: 2 peseaaiys . en Grayson throws his cigar away, yawns, turns his face to the wall, and tast@laains the interview by a careless: **Good luck to your venture!” “ And pleasant dreams to your worshipful highness!” sneers the dwarf,.as he steps meat io the starlight without, closing the door after im Then all is silence and darkness in the cabin. pesypos breaths so lightly that he cannot be he Five minutes pass. A stealthy hand is laid on the latch. The door ppane with a faint creaking of the hinges. A ight figure glides in like a shadow. he door closes. Again all is silence and darkness, But we must follow the dwarf. “Curse him!” he muttered. ‘He isupon me again! I shall never escape him! ““Oh! to be a bond-slave, with the power to rend!—with the will to annihilate!—with every incentive that can move to crush!—and yet to have the heart of a coyote! To groan under wrongs that make every nerve quiver, every pulse thrill—and yet to have the blood turn to water when it comes time to strike! To be spit upon! to be spurned! and to lick the foot that spurns! “Han! What is the power by which he binds me? How does he make me cringe to him, as they say the lion will crouch before a royal babe? By what subtle arts does he sap my strength and blight my courage? I that dare take the devil by the,throat! “Tam his Caliban! I bear his burdens! I come and go at his behest, while he has his foot on my neck! “Han! Curse him!—curse him!—curse him!” Nothwithstanding his fierce hatred of Gray- son, he had no thought of failing to get him the gold he required. From saloon to saloon he passed, looking for a victim. He found only one who was at all promising; and by half past nine o’clock he rose from the table, five ounces of dust—the miner’s “‘ pile”—having changed ownership. According to custom, he treated the man he had fleeced to a drink of liquor, and they part- ed company. “A drop in the bucket!” muttered the dwarf bree b as he again passed out into the night. ‘It is hardly epangin to whet the appe- tite of that cormorant. must make a Peta stroke somehow.” 4 At that moment he discovered a man peering in at the window of a saloon across the way, Something familiar in his appearance made the dwarf stop and scrutinize him more closely. | The man turned and glanced about him apr | orpreely » his face being revealed in the | ight from the saloon window, ee, “‘Hah!” ejaculated the dwarf, and instantly glided across the street and crept nearer, keep- yp Cnty in the shadows. s if satisfied with his reconnoissancethe man entered the saloon. A moment latter the dwarf was peering in through a hole in the curtain which screened the lower part of the window. He saw the man at a table eating ravenously, and drinking with lips that quivered with eagerness, while his hand trembled with weak- ness. He was in rags, and looked as if nearly ¥ starved. “By dame Fortune’s self! the odd fish who dines off a crust of bread and a sup, sends five hundred dollars away by express, and then chuckles and dances, and snaps his fingers all by himself in the starlight!” muttered the dwarf, his eyes glittering with avaricious an- ticipation. ‘“‘This is my master’s banker, just come to town!” CHAPTER IX. WA-HE-TA. A DEAD silence reigns in the darkened cabin when the mysterious visitant creeps in following the exit cf the dwarf. Presently a soft glow is diffused near the door. Out of the gloom appears, faintly illuminated, a darkly beautiful face—the face of an Indian maiden. There is an expectant look in the black, restless eyes, and the lips are apart, as oars the bosom were palpitating apprelien- sively. The effect is a little startling, since we see nothing but a face, like a mask PP ~ serrgagen in the air. ore startling still, we get but a glimpse and it disa: : But now we see a center of light as large as the palm of one’s hand. Drawing near, the strange phenomena are explained. An Indian irl is guiding her steps across the room by the ight oO = bit of phosphorescent wood held in er " She stops when she catches sight of Grayson lying just as the dwarf left him. + fe sleeps!” she whispers, and draws near to im. A pistol, lying close to his hand, as if his fingers ha ~ relaxed from its butt, shows. us the secret of his self- ion while torturing the dwarf. He could have puta bullet through lvoe before the latter could cross the room im, Perhaps the girl half suspected the Farag of the pistol She shudders, rey, be it. But her eyes turn from it to his face, an¢ instantly melt with tenderness. ; He seems sleeping as ire ieed as an infant. One hand, as fair and delicate as a woman’s, lies at his side. The maiden kneels, touches it lightly with her lips, and starts back looking frightened. Then she watches his face, throw- ing the light of her phosphorescent wood upon it. ‘*Sa-lo-wa-no!"* The vowels rippled over her peor be in liquid br yest following each other in gliding cadences of love. ‘ Well, Wa-he-ta,+ I see that you are here.” He spoke without opening his eyes, showing that he had not been asleép. The girl started violently, the words were so unexpected. ; “‘T am here,” she murmured, yet looking’ at him as if uncertain with what sort of reception she would meet. “Have done with this ghost play,” he said; now ges hiseyes. ‘Strike a light.” ./ ~ While the girl complied, he rose to a sitting; posture and put the pistol in the breast pocket of his coat. ; A moment later the maiden was —— ati his feet, looking up into his face with much of deprecation. thelbert Grayson looked at her critically, as if comparing her features with some other face which he held up before his mental vision. She was certainly very beautiful, so far as physical charms went. Fairer than an Indian of the full blood, the ruddy hue of health glowed in either olive cheek. She was not lacking in vivacity ; yet, if he was comparing her with Cora Prestor, ) she was at a disadvantage, wanting that intel+ lectual light which transcends mere physical perfection. ‘“Why have you followed me?’ he asked, | presently, with something of impatience. “Is it not dark and cold when the sun is hid den?” asked the girl in the picturesque metaphor of her race. : With almost the fawning of a spaniel she took his hand and pressed it to her lips. i He submitted to the caress with cool indiffe: ence. **Am I not to be obeyed? I indicated—with sufficient clearness, I ought—that I did not desire your company. ‘‘Does my presence displease you, then? Once your smile ‘ted me as gladly as the morning sun kisses the aEpPling stream.’ ! _ The girl spoke y, with deprecating tears in her eyes. * The Morning Sun, dot ¥ + Limpid Water, . i ;
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6 A aE OESEVE. + Grayson yawned. ‘There are days and seasons,” he said, ‘‘The sun covers his face with clouds, and the stream | rests beneath ice.” “* Wa-he-ta never closes her heart to her sun!” | protests the girl eagerly. ‘‘Come! letme clear “— the clouds.” , : ith playful fondness she rises, with a glid- ing motion nestles at his side, puts her arms | about his neck, and so, reclining on his breast, looks coaxingly up into his face, - Alook of dreamy admiration comes into his eyes, as he lifts a tress of her raven hair, straight as any Indian’s yet not coarse. Thus encouraged the maiden draws his face to hers until she can touch his lips, then nestles her face in his neck, with a little rippling mur- mur of delight believing that she has made her peace with him. But a vision of Cora Preston’s ethereal loveli- ness flits before his mind. By contrast the wild- flower on his breast seems mean. Almost rude- | ly he disengages her clinging arms and puts her him. ‘“‘There—that willdo. Iam tired now. Tell me how you followed me.” With a pained shrinking the girl submitted, sitting apart from him while she talked. Her lips were tremulous, her eyes sad and pleading, but she did not risk offending him by any fur- ther caresses. By-and-by he said: ““Wa-he-ta, you cannot stay here. It ismy wish that no one should know of my relations with you.” ‘* But you will not send me away from you?” pleaded the girl, with clasped hands. ‘ You will let me stay where I can see you? lie down and die if I could not look upon your face.’ “Do as you have a mind to, but we must never be seen together. Noone must even see that I know you. Now leaveme. I wish to be alone.” He rose to his feet, about to pace the fioor. The girl approached him with her willowy form bending into flexures of deprecating love. ‘Show Wa-he-ta that she has not offended you,” she pleaded. ‘‘Then she will goand look upon you only from a distance.” ‘* There! there!” he said, extending his hand to her. With sudden passion she leaped to his side and drew his arm about her. “Sol sol”? she cried, and without further warning fell to sobbing on his breast and cling- ing to him. *‘Confound the women! They are all alike,” muttered Grayson. ‘The other, though, won’t have to woo me like this!” Of his own accord he lifted the girl’s face and kissed her quivering pe “ Are you content?” he asked. “My sun, I lay my hair under your feet!” cried the girl. And in the abandonment of her love she ac- tually knelt and trailed her long hair on the ground before him. When she was gone he knit his brows and muttered: be “That is the soft side of her nature. But these half-breeds are devils for extremes of pas- sion. What if she becomes jealous of this lily which I mean to pluck? Will she show her fangs then?” : Ashe mused a cruel light came into his eyes, and for a moment his lips set hard. “Well,” he muttered, “I fancy I can find means to draw them for her. Ten thousand Wa-he-tas should not stand between me and the accomplishment of my purpose!” Almost instantly the muscles of his face re- laxed, and ke was a quietly-smiling gentleman. Presently the lifting latch indicated the dwarf’s return. CHAPTER X. A TERRIBLE ORDEAL. ETHELBERT GRAYSON’S banker, as he was styled by the chuckling dwarf, ate as ravenous- ly as on the occasion when he was first intro- ‘uced to the reader. When he had in a meas- ure a’ his hunger, he again went into the ing within a yard of the crouching form of the dwarf. . Now the Unknown walked with his head on his breast and a look of troubled thought on his face. Ever and anon he put his hand to his | head as if to revive some faded recollection. So the dwarf followed him through the dark- ness, and choosing the time and place dealt him a treacherous blow from behind with the butt of his pistol. Without warning the blow came; without seeing his assailant, the Unknown sunk to the ground, Caliban returned the weapon to its holster, and bending over his hee ha victim, began to rummage ragged clothing. ‘Now, let us see if you are a walking gold- mine,” he muttered. ‘‘Pah! Not two ounces | in the cursed thing! You confounded fraud— Eh? What's this? Here’s luck—a ragged coat | witha — lining! The old miser!’ Chuckling, them into his own pockets. When he was satis- he eagerly cut away portions of | master he hated an fied that there was no more of value, he left his victim and sought his master with the prize gained, He had nearly reached the cabin, when he caught sight of a figure with Ps ercoraon, Doge n which he recognized. With a spring he caught the figure by the arm. The figure struggled violently, with a sup- pressed cry. Then the blade of a knife glinted with the light from a distant saloon window. But he caught the supple wrist, and with a single word quieted his captive. ‘* My father!” exclaimed Wa-he-ta; for it was she. ‘* What are you doing here, girl?’ he demand- ed, angrily. a ‘Can you ask? Because I love the Morning un.” “* Hah!” The dwarf uttered his customary rasping ejaculation of rage. “Let go my wrist. You hurt me,” cried the girl, wincing with pain. “Tt were better if it were thy throat in my grasp!” snarled the dwarf. ‘<1 know your hatred for him I love,” began the girl. But the dwarf interrupted her. ‘Pah! Talk not of love. You should hate him as I do.” “Has he not been kind to me? Why should I hate him? He is the light of my life!” ‘He is your destroyer! He is a foul bog into which you have fallen! Han! and I stand by and dare net strike. Oh, coward! coward! worse than fool!” He struck his clenched hand against his fore- head, and his mouth worked with that horrible sluffing sound which marked his paroxysms of fury. With a sudden wave of tenderness and re- morse, he drew the girl to him to weep over her, as any father might have done. In that moment of supreme emotion he forgot his de- formed body. Only the soul of the parent sought expression in the most natural way. But he had a fearful reminder. Taken unawares and brought into contact with that monstrous body, the girl uttered a gasping cry of revulsion and shrunk away, tear- ing herself from his hy, Alpen a frantic ener of terror and loathing. en she had gained a = distance from him, the girl stopped, shud- ering. The dwarf stood perfectly still for a moment, and then burst into a soul-chilling laugh, such acrid bitterness, such scathing hatred ran through it. ‘A toad caressing a butterfly!” he cried, with horrible self-abasement. ‘‘Ha! ha! ha! ha! Bah! the lily springs from the mire; but who shall condemn the flower if it shrinks from con- tact with the filth that nurtures it?” And addressing the girl: ‘Come! I do not blame 7. You but obey an instinct stronger than the tie of blood over which fools waste so much sentiment, blind to the fact that in nine cases out of ten the stron- est soul friendships and this vaunted bond of kindred do not co-exist. Ugliness is always re- ulsive, and rightly so. Fortunately, or per- aps unfortunately, for me, your mother was blind, and so tolerated me as she would have tolerated any other master who had bought her after the savage custom of her people. Come! you need not fear me, I will not forget myself again.’ For the moment he had been shocked out of recollection of his master and his relations to his daughter; but now his mind returned to the subject, and he asked her if she had yet seen Grayson. She told him what had passed between them, and about her plan of remaining near him, where she could occasionally feast her eyes upon him without interfering with his purposes. The dwarf parted with her at length, and walked on thoughtfully. “What is this new phase?’ he muttered. ‘Is he tiring of her? Or of what is she in the way?” He was soon to learn! “Are you satisfied?’ he asked, morosely, a few minutes later, tossing on the table the pieces = cloth heavy with the gold-dust sewed in them. Grayson the ope them carelessly in the palm of his hand, and as carelessly replied: ‘Ah, yes, that will do very well. Cal, I thank you—you see I do not forget it—for your faithfulness!” He smiled as he selected the word which would give the most contemptuous turn to his sarcastic acknowledgment, and watched the curl of blue smoke that issued from his lips. His effort was not lost on the dwarf. He bowed low, hat in hand, with an irony equaling his master’s most pointed satire. “Ah! the faithfulness of your most abject slave! For the sapreme condescension of your mars orig radiance, most humble thanks!” ““Ha! ha! ha! Cal, you are the most affable fellow that ever longed to cut the throat of the feared at the same time. the olething of the unconscious au, putting | Matt have a question to ask you,” ““T need not say that I attend your pleasure. ” **Who is this new star that has burst upon our firmament?” “This what?” ““They call her Beauty, I believe—these cat- tle !—and——” “ HAH dd ““#h! Whatin the name of wonder is the matter with the man?” The dwarf had started back with a rasping ejaculation and a scow] of such black hatred as even Grayson had never witnessed before, clutching the hilt of his bowie-knife. Ethelbert Grayson stared at him in mute wonder. What was there in so simple a ques- tion to move Lim so? Recovering himself with an effort, the dwarf dropped his eyes before the curious scrutiny of the other, an owled: ‘* Beauty! What should I know about beauty?” ‘* What, indeed!” assented Grayson, in a me- chanical sort of way, still intent on studying the dwarf’s face. Presently his lips began to twitch; then he smiled; and finally burst into a perfect storm of laughter. The dwarf watched him with the restless shifting of the eyes noticeable in wild animals, With an oath Grayson shouted: ‘*T believe you are in love with her!” The shot—a random one—struck home, and the effect did not escape the lynx-eyes of the in- quisitor. He had been laughing at the incon- gruity suggested to his mind. Now he discovered the truth of his words. He had no spark of mercy. He looked upon the situation as the richest joke he had ever heard of. In his amazement at such a prodigy he stopped laughing. “By Heaven! you are in love with her!” he exclaimed. ao ‘A lizard in love with a humming-bird you think!” hissed the dwarf, gnashing his teeth in very pain. “Come! come! tell me all about it,” said his tormentor, with his elbows on the table, pre- pared to listen to the most ridiculous thing, that would convulse the world with mirth. ‘ Have _ made her acquaintance? I am dying to now how she received you.” Seeing that the dwarf made no reply, ne urged, pet rr fy @ ‘“*Out with it, man! There are no secrets be- tween you and me. Have you made her ac- quaintance?” By what strange power did this man coerce the fierce nature which he evidently held sa completely in his grasp? At this moment we could see that he possessed the eye of a lion- tamer. The dwarf had vainly endeavored to escape that piercing scrutiny, just as any ani- mal would have done, In despair he replied: **No! curse you! no!” “Ah! worshiped at a distance? But faint heart never won fair lady. Have you made no attempt to approach her?’ Again a word spoken in jest hit the mark, Wondering what it would all come to, Gray- son pressed his advantage. Once on the scent, he knew no such thing as resting short of the furthest goal. There was a fierce struggle at each point; but he conquered. He learned the whole meet h the appearance of George Everett to enjoy the privilege of kicking Bradley for which the dwarf had paid, affording him no lit- tle merriment. At the end he cried: ‘By Jove! Cal, you delight me in your new role of intriguer. I shall profit by your states- manship in furthering my own designs concern- ing this fair lady. You must introduce me to this cat’s-paw of yours—this fellow who lets himself out to be kicked for a consideration, and then doesn’t see to it that the right man does the kicking. Ha! ha! ha! I have use for him. Not that I wish to amuse myself by kick- ing such a puppy, mind you; but I think I can bes his peculiar talents into a different chan- nel. Caliban stood like some hideous idol of bronze. A fierce conflict was going on in his breast. Tbis man who had flaced his foot upon his neck, who had dragged his child through a slough of iniquity, was now about to tear from him, in this unceremonious off-hand fashion the woman for whom he had conceived the one passion of his life, monstrous it might be, yet none the less déep—a passion which led him, in spite of his hatred of ner through her grand- father’s injury, to hope that he might approach her througb her gratitude and so win, not her love, but her pity, that sentiment which he scorned coming from any one else. What added even greater bitterness was the reflection that his child was now to be cast aside like a broken toy for this very woman. Would he endure this double wound, so vital in both its phases?’ He did! “You forget,” he saidin a choking voice, ged a hedy we rayson lau y. «No matter.” he said. We cail*asily look her up. But first we must get rid of this fellow who cut in ahead of you so nicely.” Calibwasm hard at his interlocutor,
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otf?” he muttered, his words and manner seem- ing to refute the suspicion of Bradley that the dwarf himself was responsible for the girl’s dis- appearance. “Tt is not plain to me,” he said aloud, ‘‘ why you wish to get rid of this stranger. He never saw the girl before—he said so.” “Ta! tal” saidGrayson. ‘ J haveseen him ; and you know it is my habit to anticipate pos- vible difficulties. Go and fetch this cat’s-paw #f yours. I will manage the rest.” ike a hound the dwarf withdrew to do his ‘ master’s bidding. CHAPTER XI. EVERETT IN JEOPARDY. Wuen Grayson was alone he smoked his ¢cigar complacently, with his feet elevated upon the table. “Brains versus muscles,” he mused, with a .tisfied smile. “I command; Caliban, who gould rend me as a school-boy tears the wings end legs from a fly, obeys. Again, craft ver- rus frankness. I scheme; George Everett, Dsq., — can count virtues to my vices, falls. Such ' life! He laughed cynically and raised his wine- ylass between his eye and the light. . “ This cowardly sneak whom Cal has picked up is a dangerous tool. A villain needs physi- val courage. Well, [ll use him for my pur- es, and then, let him look out for himself. nly fools leave evidences of their villainy ly- ing around loose, ready to the hand of some threwd enemy.” During his soliloquy Graysor did not frown, nor did his cynicism find expression in a curl] of the lip. He was wise enough to make his face & record of only pleasant thoughts. When the dwarf entered with Bradley, they Yound an elegant gentleman, quietly enjoying Lis wine and cigar. The coyote quailed a little before the first %enetrating scrutiny that shot at him Like a lart, but the instantly assumed complaisance of his host put him at his ease, a little wonder- ng withal. ‘Ah, Mr. Bradley,” said Grayson, ‘‘I have learned of your devotion tomy friend here, and having some work for a brave man, I thought I might engage you in my enterprise. I can make it worth your while, if you have the nerve to carry it through.” : Bradley bowed preferring not to commit him- self. Grayson pushed a bag of gold-dust across the table toward him. ““Oblige me by testing the weight of that,” he sai Bradley lifted the bag, and his eyes sparkled avariciously. “Do you accept?” asked the tempter. E ‘* Yes,” was the unhesitating repiy: “The business requires U lying, un- plushing effrontery and a little wit. I may as well begin by telling you that I am aman of no teruples whatever. If it answered my purpose, J would just as leave cut your throat as_to lift my hat to the lady they call Beauty. When a «in has engaged in my service it don’t pay him k: betray me. Do you understand?” - ‘Grayson was as smiling and suave as if he sre merely passing the compliments of the te ason. Bradley felt a cold streak run down his back. Che dwarf was terrible, but this smiling devil Virilled him with superstitious awe. ‘ ‘* Now, sir,” pursued Grayson, ‘‘my plan is this: the man who lies stunned in the road on the bank of the Platte must die.” ; ** You don’t expect me to murder him?” “Oh, no—that is to say, not directly. You know the esteem in which the girl Beauty is held here, and the feeling likely to be excited *mong these hot-headed miners, if they thought they held a man who had been instrumental in her abduction. I depend upon you to make the mob believe that George Everett was one of the party who have carried her off, and that you eceeded in wounding him, but not _in saving er. They must swing him first, and then look tp the girlafterward.” ‘But all he’s got to do is to say that I’m the man, and that he did the rescuing; and when fhe girl is found she’ll side with him. Then where’ll I be?’ objected Bradley, with seeming yYeason. “Tye noticed that when a crowd sets out to hang a man his testimony don’t go for much,” aid Grayson; and, as for the girl, she’ll not be Founlt until you’ve had ample time to cut the country.” Bradley glanced at the dwarf. “‘He’s got her, as I supposed,” he mused. “ The two are playing a deep game. Well, if I ein get the money without getting my fingers burnt, I don’t care for the rest of it.” Meanwhile the dwarf was watching his mas- ter narrowly, musing: “That devil has stolen a march onme. It was his bullet that laid Everett out, and he spirited off the girl. He always played a deep “me, ” : Having developed his plans a little more fully, nn hie A Man of Nerve. nak Grayson sent Bradley out to arouse the town, and, left alone with the dwarf, addressed him rapidly: ** Your robbing the stranger just at this time is another trump in our Hand. Take these and ut them in Everett’s pockets before he is ound by the mob. The excitement over the repeated robberies of late will fasten upon him, = will be enough to hang himif the other ails. Grayson pushed across the table the pieces of cloth with gold-dust sewed in them which the dwarf had cut from the garments of the Un- known, Without a word the dwarf took them up, and left the cabin. Fifteen minutes later all Denver was in a flame of excitement. Exclamations of rage burst from many a bearded lip. There was no close scrutiny into the story. Cora Preston had been abducted and one of the villains lay waiting their ven- geance. That was enough for them. When Geo. Everett awoke to consciousness he found himself being dragged along by a horde of dark-browed men who nodint hia with no gentle touch. Bewildered by the shock he had received by the pistol-ball ranging along his temple, he had no clear notion of what was happening to him. But had he been in full possession of his senses, and able to defend him- self, his voice would have been drowned by exe- crations. When he saw the dangling noose, however, he tried to make himself heard, demanding the cause of his execution. Words being useless, he struggled fiercely. But one man cannot fight a hundred, and soon he stood bound, face to face with an ignominious death, The halter was about his neck; his executioners but waited the word of command, Was he never to know for what he suffered death? Yes, now his accusers faced him, and demanded that he make such reparation as lay in his power by aby) his accomplices. Everett was amazed and denied the allegation stoutly, explaining that he had just saved the girl from insult when he was stricken down. **Show me the man who says thatI was offer- ing her violence,” he concluded. hen Bradley stepped forward, Everett burst forth: “What! he? Why, that is the cur that I kicked into the river!” “Gents, do I look as though I had been in the river?” asked Bradley; and, having changed his clothes, he certainly bore no traces of his invol- untary immersion. This argument seemed conclusive; Everett was a stranger; the crowd once more drowned his voice by their yells. The victim of Lynch Law looked round him in despair. In all that crowd he had not a single friend or acquaintance to whom to ap- peal. At the last moment a cry rose on the outskirts of the crowd, which soon swelled into a cheer. Then the mob separated to give passage to a fly- in f figure. iverett looked, and his heart leaped into his throat. CHAPTER XII. VINDICATED. WHEN Cora Preston awoke to consciousness she found herself lying on the open prairie. In a country bordering on the sea she would have been drenched with dew, but in that dry climate she suffered no such inconvenience from her exposure in the open night air. Springing to her feet with no little trepidation she gazed about her. To the westward lay the broken horizon of the mountain range. Perhaps two miles in the pk wlen direction she could see the twinkling lights of Denver. ‘“How did I get here?” she asked herself. ‘* Some one must have carried me here while I was unconscious. But why did they leave me here? What if they should come back for me?” va B heating beast she See low and : away from the spot, glancing nervousl abot, fearful lest her eneciy should start op from any quarter, But even at such a moment she had a thought of pity for the man who had been stricken down at her feet. Sobbing hysterically, she murmured: “Poor fellow! I wonder if the wretch killed him outright.” While she s across the prairie, fleeing she knew not what enemy, the tones of his voice lingered in her ears. ot that she was in love with him, but he had been so full of vigorous _y and his fate had been so sudden and terri- le. : As she crossed the bridge that spanned the river, she saw that some unusual commotion was agitating the village. The first person she met chanced to be a miner who seemed in as great a hurry as herself. “What is the matter, Mr, Crampton?” she asked. * Great nuggets and pay-dirt|” cried the man addressed, staring at her, ‘‘if here ain’t Beauty herself !” “Well, what of it?’ she replied, a little an- noyed at his manner. ‘Why, gal, they’re goin’ to hang a. galoot over yonder for runnin’ away with ye!” “For running away with me? ho is it?” “Blest if I know. A stranger in these dig- gin’s, I reckon. The feller that salted him tryin’ to save you gave the alarm, and we found him layin’ in the river road, creased on the temple.” Without waiting to hear more Cora spec away toward the scene of action, her springy = outstripping the henner yet of the miner. ith a great heart thrill she recognized George Everett with his neck encircled by the fatal noose, the blood from his wound clotted in his beard, and cried at the top of her voice: “Stop! Stop! This is a terrible mistake!” The mob saw her, recognized her, and parted to give passage to her flying fi . ith hair flying loose in the wind, her face ale and eyes flashing with fright, she reached iverett, and placing herself before him, as if to shield him, faced the mob. ‘Oh, do not do this terrible thing!” she cried. “You have made a mistake. He saved me from insult, and was then shot down by I know not whom.’ Then, grasping the arm of a man who was known to her, she continued piteously: “Oh, take it off from his neck, please. In- deed he did nothing but protect me. ee, enough her words were complied with. A freeman again, Everett grasped the hand of his preserver, who was now smiling through her fast-coming tears, while she sob with relieved feelings. ‘*God bless you for your timely arrival,” he said. ‘In another minute I would have—” But while speaking he staggered and extend- ed his hands blindly in the air. With a scream Cora sprung forward. and caught him in her arms; but his weight was too much for her strength, and she could only ease his fall as he sunk to the ground unconscious. The reaction after his excitement had come, and his loss of blood told. There was no lack of helping hands now, and two or three ran into the hotel for water, while flasks of liquor were tendered on every side. One man quietly removed the noose from the arm of the sign- d which had so nearly been con- pica into a gibbet—not, however, for the first ime But in the crowd were some ghoulish natures reluctant to lose this opportunity to glut. their ' thirst for blood. Among them arose the de- mand for Bradley, in the hope that he might still countervail the evidence given by Cora Preston. But the bearer of false witness had suddenly taken flight on the appearance of one who 3 Fag today his precious neck. hen this evidence of guilt became ap nt the better class of citizens joined in the de- mand; but Bradley was nowhere to be found. There were two dissatisfied witnesses to this turn of affairs—Grayson and the dwarf; but for prudential reasons neither took any active min in the drama being enacted. Beneath a perfectly placid exterior, Grayson was devoured with cheering and indul no little mental profanity. ut he had laid a mine on which alone his hupes now hung. Would it never spring? Elbowing his way through the crowd toward the spot where Cora bent over the unconscious Everett, he suddenly paused, a cruel glitter flashed in his eyes, and he muttered: ** At last!” git fy And this was the cause of his triumph. Cora’s first act was to loosen George’s blouse at the throat. Then, feeling a flask in the breast- et, she drew it forth, to administer some of the stimulant it contained. But with the came something else, which slid to the ground with a thud. ‘Hallo, what’s that?” said one of the crowd, gy cr A pick it up. But Cora anticipated him. It was a piece of a coat-lapel. The moment she felt its weight the girl guessed what it con- tained. “T will take charge of it, and restore it to its owner when he apasaiy Sn she said, quietly. More than one eye flashed with greed, but no one disputed her cereee None of those rude men thought of doubting her honesty, though few of them would have trusted their fellows, Of this event no one at the time saw th import save Grayson, and with an interna! chuckle he drew away from the spot. ‘No fear of these fellows forgetting that rag when the time comes,” he muttered. Hah! mre er af Bg teclts nr t was the sound of v ra n porten- tous ejaculation. ree | in the direction whence the ‘sound -* ing, bearin hing in their midst approac somet eir midst. Piet hat he mabered, a Phtedly. “ Now for a turn of the wheel that brings my fortynes
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uppermost. Let us see how my beauty is im- pressed by her hero in the role of a highway robber.” All unconscious, Cora was watching her re- covering patient with a very gentle solicitude. CHAPTER XIII. GRAYSON’S FIRST DEFEAT. ‘*Gents,” cried a loud voice, ‘‘ I reckon hyer’s somethin’ that consarns every honest man in Denver. ‘The crowd turned to see an insensible man borne into their midst. For the time Cora was too busy to notice this | interruption. “T allow,” ¢ poeresa the same speaker, “ that this hyer kind o’ thing has gone on about long enough. If we don’t nobody else won’t. is hyer’s the third man that has been. knocked on the head an’ robbed inside o’ two weeks, and nobody’s been brought to chalk yet.” “The gent that handled that subject had a way about him that wa’n’t slow,” commented a second. had any pay-dirt in it.” ‘* Hallo!” came from one who had stood near rotect ourselves you bet | ** See, he’s cut away everything that | A Man of Nerve. ‘*Miss Preston,” was the earnest reply. ‘‘I | like coals, his hands mechanically clutching and declare to you that it is false. Ihave never to my knowledg® seen your father before; and, strange as it may appear, I know no more than do you how the gold-dust found in my pockets came to bethere. It must have been put there while I lay uncestscious in the road by some ma- liciously-disposed person.” ‘* Have you any enemy who would thus try to throw suspicion on you?” ‘“‘T know of none. But I can explain it in no other way, unless, perhaps, some one took this means of getting rid of this evidence of his 1ilt.” ‘* Bah!” sneered a miner; ‘‘nobody’d be fool enough to throwaway gold-dust like that, when he could empty the dust into his pouch and chuck the bits o’ cloth into the street, and no- body the wiser.” ‘That seems reasonable enough,” admitted | Everett; “ but I certainly know nothing of the matter.” Cora had been watching his face while he spoke. ‘*T believe you,” she began; but suddenly his face lighted up, and he interrupted her. ‘By the way, the man who tried to abduct Everett when Cora pulled the flask and gold- | you may be responsible for this also. Who and dust from his pocket, ‘“‘I allow there’s some- | where is he?’ thin’ rotten not a hundred miles from this hyer | neighborhood. If the galoot we’ve jest let off hain’t got somethin’ to match that coat, ’ma liar. r’aps this hyer leetle game hain’t play- ed out yet—eh, fellers?” The dwarf and his master were delighted lis- teners to the Babel of crimination that ensued, and a few minutes later Cora discovered that the brows of the men about her were darkened ntil now she had not noticed the new event which had engaged the general attention, but mow a rude miner advanced and said: ‘“‘T reckon, ma’am, thar’s somethin’ that hain’t straight about thi chap. Wedon’t want to hurt yer feelin’s, but you'll have to stand aside a li while men that’ll give him a fair show. find out if we hain’t been a leetle hasty about takin’ down that noose.” “But what’s the matter?’ demanded Cora showing no disposition to desert her charge, for the arbitration of even so impartial ju ges as those which usually form the jury of Judge Lynch’s court. ‘Tt lookes powerful like as if he’d been liftin’ dust that didn’t grow in his claim; an’ if so be owll just hand over the bit of cloth with the ust sewed into it that jest now dropped out o’ his pocket, we’ll see if it don’t match what’s left o’ the coat of a dead man we've got hyer.” ‘* Oh, this is absurd!” cried Corra. “You kin look fur yourself. If the cloth $0}, match, o’ course thar hain’t no harm one, & Where's the man supposed to have been ‘*Right hyer.” And the next moment Cora stood beside the unconscious man, whom the dwarf had styled his master’s banker. A moment she gazed, then started, dro upon her light might f screamed: ‘*Oh, help, gentlemen! It is my father! Oh, nary be dead! Get a doctor, somebody ! papa! papa: Her distress thrilled the rude auditors, and they crowded around in open-mouthed aston- ishment at the une evelopment. For the moment Everett and his alleged guilt were forgotten. “He ain't dead, miss,” said one of the crowd. upon the gaunt face, and * Tt’s only a pretty hard tap on the head. And | hyar comes the doctor that'll fetch him round | in no time.” —, to be fatal, though of a very serious char- | acter. Then vengeance again claimed the ascendency, and a4 oe almost helpless. Evidence was not lacking, thanks to the plot- —_— Grayson and the execution of the dwarf. other pieces of cloth found on the person of Everett were brought and compared with the ents of the robbed man. “T reckon, we don’t want nothin’ clearer than this,” said one who believed that punishment should follow close upon the heels of crime— when he himself happened not to be implicated! The crowd was only too ready to act under any leadership which promised summary exe- S on i and the helpless man was again in peril 0 e. But once more Cora interfered. Leaving her father, whose precarious condi- tion wrung her heart, she came and stood before this other, who perhaps*had already begun to have, unconsciously to either, a controlling in- fluence over her destinies. There was a look of wonder and doubt and pain in her eyes, as she said, slowly: Me Eerett, I know absolutely nothing of i and yet I am very loth to believe possi- thing which is laid to your charge,” searched Geo. Everett, lying raised the head so that: Pes | less in the road, a Medical skill pronounced upon the case as not ‘ A puzzled look flitted across Cora Preston’s ace ‘‘ There is something strange about that,” she said. ‘I did not see the man who shot you and then carried me off. I fainted with fright, and on recovery found myself out on the prairie, where I seem to have been lying for some time. Why I should have been abandoned there I do not know.” “Don’t you see? Your abductor must have returned to leave these evidences of crime upon my rson.” ‘True enough!” assented Cora, readily ac- cepting a solution of the situation which vindi- cated the man whom she believed falsely ac- But a murmur rose in the crowd. Nobod knew that it n with the dwarf, but suc was the fact. atchful of the interests of his master, though he hated him, he started the murmur of incredulity, which was picked up and echoed from every side. Seeing that even her influence was not power- ful enough to free Everett in the face of tbe strong popular prejudice against him, Cora compromised. ‘* Friends,” she said, ‘‘ you cannot proceed to summary measures in so doubtful a case. Let this gentleman be held for trial to-morrow, or at such a time as a father can testify, when evidence may be had exculpating him entirely.” No reasonable objection could be offered to this course, and Grayson had the chagrin of see- ing. his plot likely to fail after all. verett was taken to the “lock-up,” and Mr. Preston was borne to his home, where his inva- lid wife, almost prostrated with apprehension at her daughter’s prolon absence, was over- joyed at the unexpected return of both her loved ones in company. Both wife and daughter were pained by the shabbiness and emaciation of the returned hus- band and father; and cer. planned what loving care should do to effect his restoration to his former self. But a new sorrow awaited them. When he awoke to consciousness it was plain that his reason was unseated. The first effect of this was that he could give no evidence as to who had robbed him. But this was found dispensable in the trial which tested Geo. Everett’s guilt. By compar- ing the time when Mr. Preston had last oa seen in a saloon, eating his bread and beer, with that at which Everett bad been dropped sense- rfect alibi was established, since George must have lain unconscious an hour before the robbery took place. Jim Bradley was now Woked upon as the author of the plot; but he had prudently with- drawn from public not’ce. “Cal,” said Ethelbert Grayson, pleasantly watching the curls of smoke that ascended from his lips, ‘‘ we are down in the first round, but, unless I mistake, we will come to time once more. If you will produce your cat’s-paw, I will proceed to the little scheme at which I hinted on first learning your ingenious mode of cultivating Miss Preston. I wish to enter the lists openly against this fellow Everett; but, of course, whatever I have a hand in must be done in an honorable and gentlemanly manner— ha! ha! ha!” ““You devil!” muttered the dwarf, behind his beard. ‘If you play the saint, no fear but vou will win. ay an undying curse rest upon my oan arm, that it dare not strike you as you si CHAPTER XIV. AN ABDUCTION, Ir was midnight when Jim Bradley crept into Ethelbert Grayson’s cabin with all the skulking wariness of the coyote, to which he had been likened. The dwarf sat in the corner, his eyes glowing tearing at each other like claws. From him Bradley turned shuddering, imagining him some ghoulish vampire, crouching and. waiting for the moment when he should rend his flesh and drink his blood with those repulsive lips. But the prospect in the other direction was far from reassuring. Ethelbert Grayson was a smiling devil. ‘“*Well, Mr. Bradley,” he said, in his smooth way, ‘‘you have disappointed your friends greatly of late. Caland I appreciate the dis- tinction of being alone favored with your com- ny, when so many would be glad to take you y the hand—or throat!” “Curse the day that I sold myself to these devils!” was the internal aspiration of the cat’s- Ww. Talend he said: i “fs have you to thank for being afraid of day- ight. ‘“Don’t sulk, Bradley,” laughed Grayson. “Besides, it is not strictly true that I have placed you in your present somewhat delicate situation.” ‘* Who, then, is to blame?” “Your avarice, my man.” Grayson’s voice was silky. Only choice of the appellation ‘‘my man,” hinted his dis- pleasure at the tone Bradley had adopted. The coyote weakened. ‘** Well, what’s done is done. What do you want of me now?” ‘*T am not satisfied with the way our little scheme turned out, and I want you to assist in another hand.” ““Pve got about enough for me.” “You might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb, you know. If you are caught as it is, you will be flayed alive. They can’t do an worse than that. And there’s money in this thing.” ‘““What must I do?’ “* Abduet Miss Preston.” “And get kicked into the river again?” “‘Hal ha! ha! That was something of a dam- per on your ardor, fora fact. But you must make better work this time. I will supply you with a horse, and when you have captured her you take her up before you and ride toward the mountains.” ** And what am I todo with her? I fancy she’ll be something of a white elephant.” “Not at all. I shall meet you on the plains, between here and the foothills. We exchange shots—you drop the girl and fly. As her res- cuer, I take her off your hands; and you have nothing further to do in the matter.” “T reckon Dll get py head in a sling some- wheres here,” said Bradley, doubtfully. “There is no necessity for it. Cal will ae- company you and interfere if any one turns u at the time when you are capturing the girl. When you see me, you make a sham fight, the brisker the better, and then turn tail.” With the glint of ype before his eyes and the wh with which the dwarf had been careful to ply him bolstering up his cour- age, Bradley was wax in the bande ot his temp- r. When he was gone Grayson turned to the dwarf and said: ““T depend upon you to draw the bullets from his weapons. The coyote may become so frightened as to lose his wits and shoot at me in earnest. I don’t so much mind passing in my checks—we’ve all got to do that at one time or another—but I should hate to be wiped out by such a cur.” “Tf Icould but neglect this duty, with the assurance that he would free me from your devilish tyranny by letting out your vile blood!” thought the dwarf. ‘Oh! for a dastardly slave, that dares not so much as lift an eye- lash! When—when will my accursed heart burst its cowardly chains! Can I stand and see this ruthless devil by one act wrong beyoud reparation the two beings whom alone of all te world I love?” An icy sweat burst from his brow with the intensity of his emotions; but he stood with bowed head, mute. he was ever to snatch courage of desperation and turn, the time wis not ve Ethelbert Grayson, who knew his slave so well, divined his thoughts, yet regarded him with a quiet sneering smile. ‘Tam aware of the volcano beneath my feet,” he mused. ‘By the time you get ready to ex- plode, TP put a damper on you, my pretty fel- ow. Meanwhile, all unconscious of the further machinations against her, Cora Preston watch- ed at the bedside of her beloved father with a solicitude that would scarcely permit her the necessary sleep. The wounded man had intervals of lethargic stupor between paroxysms of delirium. When he was violent no one but Cora could soothe him, and her charm layin her voice. The songs , that he used to love best seemed tu carry him back to ig oe days. As for Mrs, Preston, anxiety and grief had aggravated her malady until she was an added care, rather than a help to her daughter,
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an of AM Nerve. _ During this time George Everett was a con- stant visitor, and proved himself a considerate | friend. He was learning a sweet lesson. The wan smile with which Cora greeted his coming thrilled and pained him. He longed to lift at least a portion of the burden from her frail shoulders. One day Mr. Preston had tossed in an un- usually protracted period of delirium, and when on the approach of evening he sunk into a deep slumber, his daughter was well-nigh worn out. Possessed by a nervous restlessness, she could not liedown. The balmy air seemed to woo her, and donning her hat, she went out to watch the sunset over the distant mountain crests from the river bank. The evening breeze, laden with balsamic odors from the forests of pine, soothed her, and she wandered on axd on, now stopping to pick a flower or to listen to the notes of a bird, until the sun had disappeared, leaving the sky dyed | Then she sat | to the zenith in majestic splendor. down, with the water rippling at her feet, and watched the deepening tints, sunk in a dreamy reverie. The evening star glowed like a pure gem from a bed of purple velvet, when she suddenly started with a consciousness that it was grow- ing late. : ‘ She arose to her feet with a thrill of trepida- tion, and turned to be confronted by a man in the act of throwing a cloak over her head. A shrill scream leaped to her throat, but it was stifled by the heavy folds of cloth that fell about her head, and a moment later she felt herself raised in a pair of stout arms and borne rapidly along. Struggle as she might she was utterly powerless. CHAPTER XV. A RUTHLESS SHOT. Worps cannot describe the terror of Cora Preston when she found herself again in the power of her unknown enemy, On this occasion she did not faint, though the folds of the cloak that enveloped her head almost suffocated her, Without a word she was borne perhaps forty rods, when she felt herself lifted to the k of a horse, and her captor then mounted behind her. She felt the horse descend the river bank; then the wash of the water announced that he was fording the stream. An ascent on the other side was followed by a loping gallop across the level prairie. Whither was she being borne? Her terrified imagination pictured a hopeless captivity among the mountain fastnesses away from hele where = friends would never know what become of her. For weeks past Denver had been thrown into a constantly augmenting excitement by the etration of repeated robberies, one of which find been accompanied by murder, by some des- perado who had operated so skillfully that none of his victims fat seen the hand that struck them. Had the wretch added this to his other crimes; and was she, because of her beauty, to be made the victim of this mysterious outlaw? The girl shuddered at the terrible prospect. But in the midst of her reflections came the sound of a horse’s feet falling in muffled thud on the yielding prairie loam. Was help a pS isp By a quick effort she got her mouth to an opening in the folds of the cloak and screamed: ‘*Help! Help! Oh—” But her cries were smothered, as with an — her captor again drew the cloak about her ead, Then he reined his horse in sharply. ‘* Hallo there! Stand, or I fire!” came a ring- ing challenge. “ire and be blowed!” returned Cora’s ca tor and the next instant a pistol exploded most at her ear. She heard a horse reined back on his haunches. Then there was a return shot. Her captor reeled in his saddle. ‘* My God! he has shot me!” he exclaimed. It was true. On setting out Ethelbert Gray- son had carefully loaded his revolvers, and mut- tered: ‘4 dead man tells no tales. Mr. Bradley, I intend to put you beyond the temptation to treachery. That is my way of securing myself against the indiscretion of my tools.” And now he had fired with deadly aim. “Surrender!” he cried, and spurred his horse forward to the very side of his intended victim. The truth suddenly burst upon Jim Bradley. “The devil has sold me out!” he thought. “Well, let’s see if two can’t play at that game!” Grayson’s face showed through the darkness not ten feet distant like a white target. Aiming straight for it, Bradley cried: “ Die, you accursed fiend!” He | onsen the trigger. The momentary flash of his pistol lighted the face of a laughing devil Jim Bradley knew that his doom was sealed. Ethelbert Grayson leaned forward in his sad- dle. His pistol arm shot forth. The weapon e. Without a groan Jim Bradley fell from ’ aes ! saddle, with a bullet lodged fairly between his | struggle, lest she should bring her body in the way of the bullets of her rescuer, but she made an effort to distract the aim of her captor by attempting to slip from his arm to the ground. When he fell from the saddle, she was drag- ged backward; and though she fell upon his ’ Her the concussion stunned her. unconsciousness was but momentary, however. She was recalled by the repeated discharge of firearms. She found herself lying on the ground, the cloak removed from her head and the night wind blowing cool on her face. Near her stood a man firing a pistol into the air, and beside him a horse which he held by the bridle. As she rose he heard her, turned, extended his hand with gentle courtesy, as if to support her, and said in a deep, rich voice, that fell pleasantly on her ear: “Lady, are you uninjured? You lay in so ceived some fatal hurt.” ‘* Oh, no, thank you. I have only been fright- ened and jarred by my fall. Oh/” Her eyes fell upon a motionless figure lying at her feet, and she shrunk away s nasering. Instinctively she knew that the man was dead. ‘““T have put him out of the way of further wickedness I fear—and hope!” said Grayson. ‘‘T heard your ery and knew that some mis- chief was afoot. I was obliged to kill him to | Save my own life. Ethelbert Grayson, at your service. If you will mount my horse, I shall esteem it an honor to escort you back to your home; when we can send some one to care of this wretch.” “T have to thank you for saving me from this man who was carrying me off. I am Cora Preston.” s Miss Preston? Is not this the second attempt to abduct you?’ “ Yes. sir ” ys Well, Lam glad to be the means of securing ou against anything of the kind in the future. This must be the same villain. Now that he is dead you will be able to walk without fear. Could you recognize him? I will strike a match.” When the tiny blaze was held to Bradley’s face ay awa uddering. “Tt is the same,” she said, once, please.” “The fool is as dead as stone,” was Grayson’s comment, as a result of his scrutiny of the face; and his words proved that Cora’s enlightenment, | was zoe his primary motive for striking the matc “Now, my beauty,” was his mental observa- tion, as he assisted the trembling girl to mount, “it is to be a fair fight between Mr. George Everett and Ethelbert Grayson. Let us see who wins!” An amused smile flitted across his face, cover- ed Py ae darkness, as he added: sf for your other lover, my godlike Cali- ban, I fear he is out in the cold, entirely. “Poor Cal! he’s no beauty, and that’s a fact. What an odd conceit that such a monster should fall in love with such a sylph. It is a Midsum- mer Night’s Dream transposed.” CHAPTER XVI. GRAYSON SCORES A POINT. “ HALLO, gents! Thar’s trouble out yonder The ker was the miner Crampton, who had told Coraof George Everett's ger in time for her to save him from the halter. The other occupants of the saloon he had just entered, looked up, and one asked: “What's the row, old man?” ‘* A scrimmage not more than a mile across the river. I saw four flashes.” ; ‘Let ’em flicker,” was the careless rejoinder of one, who would have gone further to see a dog-fight than to prevent a murder. But there were others in the room, not so hardened, and soon a little group with concern- ed faces stood outside the saloon door, looking into the darkiiess in the direction indicated by Crampton. ; ‘ “There it again,” said one, as several flashes followed each other in rapid succession. ““Somebody’s gittin’ hurt, sure,” said another. “Gents,” said a harsh voice, in rumbling gut- turals, ‘‘T reckon that ain’t a fight. Them shots air too regular. Somebody’s firin’ off his pistol as a si of distress—that’s the way it looks to me.” Ali turned and saw Caliban, the dwarf, stand- ing among them. ; i ‘I move that we go out and investigate,” su, ted one. e idea met with general approval; and soon some on foot and some on horseback, half ascore of men had crossed the Platte and were across the intervening stretch of prai- eyes. While the firing was Going on Cora dared not | deadly a swoon that I feared that you ‘had re- | Let me introduce myself as | eave one swift glance and then turned | by Sa out of ‘*Hallo! Hallo! Hallo!” | They halted, responding to the challenge with a cheer, and soon dusky figures were seen | approaching, which proved to bea woman on | horseback and a man walking at her side. ‘** Who comes?” demanded George Everett. ‘“‘Miss Preston and Ethelbert Grayson who | has just had the honor of rescuing her from a | second attempt at abduction. And, friends, I reckon I’ve put an end to this sort of thing. | The would-be abductor lies half a mile back— you can find him by following my trail—with two bullets through him.” | ‘* Have you killed him?” | “Dm atraid so. He gave me a pretty loud call before I dropped him. I reckon his bullet _ must have clipped my hair just over the ear. I | was coming trom. Golden City when I heard Miss Preston scream. I saw there was some- thing wrong and when I challenged him he let drive at me; but he’s lying pretty still now. | The lady says he is the same that tried to run away witb her several days ago.” ile eae | Grayson had come within the range of the lanterns carried by the other party. What the light revealed to George Everett thrilled him with something not far removed from jealousy. He saw one who was far more of what is known as ‘‘a lady’s-man” than him- self in the act of taking down his arm, as if it had been about the waist of the woman who had already un to exercis@a controlling in- fluence over the perturbations of his heart. Add to this the undeniable fact that the lady’s cheek was flushed, and you have the cause of George’s sudden hauteur. The facts were that Grayson, altogether too shrewd to do so indiscreet a thing as to encircle the waist of the lady on first acquaintance, even under the pretext of supporting her in her unaccustomed seat, had only let his arm rest over the cantle of the saddle, for the purpose of misleading and awakening the jealousy of his | rival; and the flush on the cheek of the uncon- scious Cora had been called there by pleasure at the sound of George Everett’s voice. She would have addressed him with all the rare 8 that their limited acquaintance | warranted, but he gave her the cue of formality ing: bos Puekton} allow me to congratulate you { ‘Let us go at | on your escape from peril, and Mr. Grayson as / the favorite of fortune, in that he was _ | the ae to risk his life so valiantly in your defense.” ‘ “Thank you for your kind wishes, Mr, | Everett,” said the girl, chilled by his manner. “And you only do Mr. Grayson justice; for he came to my rescue bravely indeed.” Everett bowed stiffly. Grayson laughed with seeming good-humor and frankness. \ ‘* Between you, you overpower me,” he said. ““T only followed your example of the other day, Mr. Everett. It required as little courage and less skill, I fancy, to put a bullet between the fellow’s eyes than to kick him into the river. Suppose we shake hands on it, and’ say that thus far honors are between us.” He extended his hand with the easy cordiality of a pleasant gentleman who felt kindly toward all the world. ) George Everett flushed purple. He glanced at Cora and saw a look of rise breaking over her face. Then setting his teeth hard, he took the proffered hand, and {bowing ceremo- niously, said: “Mr. Grayson, I am happy to make your acquaintance, sir.” ** Of course I ae heartily, Mr. Ever- ett,” said the arch-hypocrite, with a covert sneer. ‘I predict a great deal of pleasure to myself in our future acquaintance.” ron George bowed Ue “What a bear he is, hat is the matter with him?’ thought Cora, impatiently, contrast- ing the manners of the two gentlemen, to the disadvantage, it must be confessed, of the better man. “The fool!” was Grayson’s complacent com- ment. ‘‘If be thinks that women are won by sulkiness, I could give him a point or two from which he might derive profit.” po- As for George, he appreciated the false sition in which he was placed, and it galled him. ‘*Confound the women!” he mused, venting his dissatisfaction with himself in objurgations against the sex, with the usual consistency of mankind, ‘they are taken with every popinjay; and if you try to set them right, they think you | are moved to slander, by interested motives; and then a mule is divinely docile compared with one of them.” “While the others go in quest of the fellow out yonder, will you accompany Miss Preston and myself back to town?’ asked Grayson, po- litely. rie. \ They had gone li*tle acre the: cif the dis-_ His manner, so self-possessed, exasperated “TY nk you,” he said. “I havea fancy for *streteh ecross the prairie. You see the moon is just sising, and will make it plearant riding.
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SSS a gti 8 ee ee } i 10 A Man of Nerve. — + Miss Preston, permit me to wish you good night, and no unpleasant effects from your ad- venture.” He gathered up his bridle-rein, lifted his hat, and was gone. Miss Preston looked, as she felt, very much piqued. AS the others followed Everett, Ethelbert . Grayson said in his most honeyed tones: “[ thought that the company of one with whom you have at least a slight acquaintance vould more agreeable to you than to be at- vended only by one who until afew moments ago was a perfect stranger to you.” ‘‘Thank you, sir,” replied the girl; ‘‘ but I iind people agreeable in proportion to the con- sideration they display, rather than because of a longer or shorter period of acquaintance.” “This latter bar will be removed by time, if you will kindly permit me to prove myself worthy of your friendship,” said Grayson, ‘* And now, lest your parents should be distress- ed by your prolonged absence, we will lose no \more time.” As they advanced Grayson mused: ‘‘The campaign opens well with dissension in the enemy’s ae: Mr. Everett, look to your prize; for Lam after you with as stick!” », At the same time Caliban stood looking down at the fast stiffening form of the luckless cat’s- paw, with clenched teeth and eyes that glowed ominously beneath his beetling brows. ‘* Dead men tell no tales,” he muttered. ‘‘ The devil is utterly remorseless. He leaves no wit- nesses to rise *&p against him. I wonder if he will serve me in this way, when he begins to fear that my poltroon heart is beginning to break, the s he has thrown over it. Oh! what a pitiful slave! what a contemptible cur! I see him rifling my heart of hearts, and dare not raise a finger!” And he rend his teeth with fury. Would this storm ever burst upon Ethelbert x mn unawares; or would he make provision against it? Was his triumph over George Ever- » ett a real success or only a snare by which he was to be led into the clutches of this fiend in- carnate of his own making? Let the sequel tell. CHAPTER XVII, A VERY CONSIDERATE GENTLEMAN. Tue loving es poe nip cai cog had wrought a great change in the personal appear- + ance not James Preston. His unkempt beard and hair had passed under the barber’s hands, and, his shabby clothes had been replaced by the _ dress of a gentleman. He now Ag eee what he was, the wreck of a man of Cora had been gone from the house perhaps half an hour when from the lethargy into which he had fallen he awoke to all appearance ina more healthy tone of mind than usual. k ‘Where is Cora, my dear?’ he asked of his invalid wife, who sat dozing in an easy-chair. ‘‘She went out for a walk some time ago, James,” replied the lady. “Tam feeling so well I believe I will take a turn myself. I may meet her and return with her,” said Mr. Preston, arising from the bed. Tho invalid had not the strength to combat his will, and after a few weak expostulations she was forced to remain helpless while he dressed and went out. Asthe darkness deepened without bringing the return of either husband or child the anx- iety of the lady became distressful in the e e, She would have called the assistance of her neighbors, but the excitement of her husband’s pear A had. prostrated her so that she could scarcely cross the room. So the hours dragged until on the return of Cora in company with Ethelbert Grayson her mother had sunk into a semi-unconscious state. * Will you come in and let my parents thank you, Mr. Grayson?” the girl had asked at the door. But he, being world-wise, had lifted his hat and said; “Thanks, but I will not intrude upon the first moments of your parents’ relieved anxiety. With your permission, I will do myself the plea- sure of ang ain your health to-morrow.” “Do so. -night.” “ Good-night.” Then, with a radiant smile of ing over her face, the girl opened the door and entered, looking eagerly for her parents. At first she thought her mother still asleep. JA. glance at the bed showed her that it was empty. a forward with an were of cismay, she grasped her mother by the shoul- cer, “Mamma! Mamma! What has happened? Where is papa?’ At the sound of her daughter’s voice the lady aroused. ‘‘Oh, my darling!” she moaned; and clung to the frightened girl, sobbing hysterically. “What is it? What is the matter? urged Cora; but the invalid seemed almost fainting. The girl saw that her first attention must be +" on to her mother, and she set about to soothe eeting break- EY wee a eu mec and quiet her, though her own heart throbbed wildly with apprehension for her father, It was an hour before Mrs. Preston was com- ena enough to tell her daughter what had appened, and then the invalid clung to her hend and would not listen to her leaving her even for a moment to call assistance. Arguments and assurances of but momentary absence were in vain. The invalid had received a severe nervous shock, and now clung to the hand of her daughteras if once released it would be lost to her forever. She replied to the most piteous appeal with tears; and when, her heart wrung with pain and fear, Cora thought it better to let her mo- ther suffer for a few moments while she called some one, that the search for her father might be begun, and to this end forcibly withdraw her hand, her mother screamed with terror and seemed on the er of going into convulsions. Then the girl yielded to the hard necessity and tried to soothe the invalid to sleep, in the hope that she might then steal away. But so lightly did Mrs. Preston doze that the most cau- tious attempt to slip from the clasp of her hands aroused her, Thus the break of dawn found Cora still at her painful vigil. en it became known, Mr. Preston’s disap- pearance from home called forth nc little sym- pathy from the rude yet open-hearted commu- nity which held his beautiful daughter in such esteem. Ethelbert Grayson heard the news with a glow of pleasure. **Tn his state of mind he has no doubt sought his old haunts in the mountains,” he mused, rubbing his hands. ‘* With twelve hours start he will give us a good hunt. Here is the oppor- tunity ready at my hand to win favor with the daughter by my solicitude for her pareat—of course for her sake! My cue is to in ahead of Mr. George Everett. I shall call at once.” And he did. ** Miss Preston,” he said, ‘it’s object redeems my early call from unseasonableness. I nave heard of your trouble, and called at once to offer my assistance in the search for your father.” “You are too good, sir,” began Cora, with feeling, ‘Pray do not mention it,” he interrupted. “This world would be a cold place indeed if we did not sympathize with and help each other in distress. Your father has doubtless returned to his old haunts. Can you give me any direction which will aid in tracing him?” “No. I know nothing of his) life in the mountains,” ‘““We will have to secure competent scouts then and search every nook and corner. I beg that you will leave this all to me. Your mother will need your constant care.” g “I do not know how to thank you,” said ora. ““T do not wish you to thank me,” he replied. ‘Tt will be enough for me to know that I have been instrumental in relieving your pain.” The arrant knave pressed her hand with an unobtrusive gentleness that would not have startled the most coy, and Fora in a tone that any brother might have used. hen he went to Mrs. Preston and bade her be of good cheer, adding hopeful assurances until the stricken lady wept over his hand as she might have done had he been her son. Kneeling on the opposite side of her mother, Cora felt her heart go out to this gentle stranger ina paaticudp that her artlessness made no effort to hide. ‘* But I must lose no more precious time,” he said, rising abruptly. ‘I will place myself at the head of the expedition, and make arrange- ments to ae our ee to you from time to time. en our efforts are crowned with success, I have a fleet horse, and will myself be the bearer of the glad tidings. ** And now you must not look so me igi he added, as Cora followed him to the door, and with a glance back into the room, in a lower tone—‘‘for your mother’s sake. She needs all the encouragement you can give her by cheerful looks.” “ How tenderly considerate he is,” mused the girl, and looking up into his face, almost uncon- sciously she returned the pressure of the clasp with which he held her hand. A quick light flashed from his eyes, and his nostrils dilated as he drew a deep breath. An instant so, in which his face expressed keen pleasure; then his eyes drop before her gaze, he lifted his hat and turned away. Vaguely the girl was thrilled by that look. It was enough to call a perceptible flush to her cheek. Yet she did not consciously analyze the emo- tions it awoke in her own breast, nor the feeling which had prompted it in his. Not that the most untutored simplicity could be blind to the fact that he was doing what he did for her sake. But she chose to see in it only gentlemanly courtesy, and shrinking from too close a scrutiny, gave herself up to the care of her mother. Concurrent with her anxiety for her parents + Wr «e . ry Sy Shy ITE mer ey ore were thoughts more exclusively pertaining t« herself. As the day wore away and Geore Ev: erett did not make his appearance with even se much as a word of sympathy, a feeling of pique arose in her heart, and, in a sort of meutal apos: trophe, she began to justify herself before him for the complacency with which she regarded Ethelbert Grayson, by upbraiding him for bir unpardonable neglect. ad George known of this phenomenon, arid been versed in the workings of the fewminirie mind, he would have been comforted. As t was, he—poor fellow !—was utterly wretched. He had seen the queen of his heart part with avery gallant gentleman, with a flush on her cheek and a look of pleasure in the eyes thit read hers. From that parting Grayson had passed him, seeming too much engrossed in hg own happy thoughts to notice him, Oh, clime ¥ of misery! he heard his rival murmur: “ Dear girl!” How could he know that it was all a piece «4 diabolically clever acting—that Grayson hed seen him approaching, and had worked up tk it little parting scene on the door-step for his °s- pecial benefit; had seen him pause at the dcvr' of the saloon and enter into conversation with one of the loungers, and understanding it a), had followed up his advantage by that tender expression dropped with such apparent uncon- sciousness. George was on his way to Cora, but he could not go to her ype gy after that partine. Before he dared venture into her presence he learned the significance of Grayson’s visit, and knew that he had been anticipated. ““There’s no use in going to her now, he mut- tered, feeling very much as if fate were against him. “Of course she has accepted this pretty gentleman’s tender of service with thanks.” He contrasted his rough miner’s dress with Grayson’s gen temanly, apparel, and reflected bitterly on the likelihood of the feminine eye to be caught by mere externals, And then, as lovers always have done and always will do ta the end of time, he muttered: “Tf he were only worthy of her!” And he tried to convince himself that it woul: be Seance to give her up in the contingency im agined, ut George was too gieat-hearted to let hi disappointment in the woman of his love affect his action prejudical to her interests. Since he could not bring himself to join the party headed by his rival, he resolved to search for Mr. Pres: ton on his own responsibility, and, intimating his p to nobody set out alone. In view of this further misunderstanding, shall we score another point for the evil magi cian as opposed to the true prince? And what of the hatred of the dwarf for James K, Preston, the son of the man to whos« brutal passion he owed his deformity of bod ¢! Was this hatred and thirst for revenge thy touchstone which was to test Ethelbert Gray- son’s strange power over the volcanic nature which he had this far held with a grasp assured almost to carelessness? Would the slave dare to default against his master? Let us see. area CHAPTER XVIII. HATE CONQUERS ALL, THERE was one individual who had lookea upon Mr. Preston’s restoration to his family with anything but a kindly eye. When Cora knelt beside her prostrate parent and announced their relationship the dwarf was near enough to overhear her. The effect upon him was so pow- erful that two or three who stood near him moved vty dismayed by his black scow! and the sluffing sound of his working jaws, while his hands clutched and tore at each othe: in a way terrible to witness. “Rocks! he must be the devil himself!” mut: tered one, not without half a belief in the truth of his words. The dwarf overheard the remark and re aid the speaker with a black scowl of ma- ignant hatred. ‘“Why cannot I mask the fiend within me?’ he mused. “ They must not associate my emo tion with that man. When my vengeance falit —as fall it shall!—there must be no link of cir: cumstance between the blow and the hand tha‘ deals it.” Feeling that he could not stand so near the object of his hatred without betraying himself the dwarf withdrew from the crowd, and fe? long hours he walked in the darkness and soli tude without the town, alone with his davli thoughts. Now he would walk with rapid strides, as if to escape the fiend that raged within him, Anon he would crouch, like a beast about te spring upon its prey. At one moment he was ready to dance in ghoulish glee at the prospect of a s y vengeance. e next, when he thought of the girl who had inspired him with a love which made terrible war with his long- nurtured hate, he would grovel in agony of pirit, like some wretch shut out from Para- ise, ‘Oh death! oh death!” was his heart-wrun:; ery, dying away in inarticulate moans, as L¢ news
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lay with his face buried in the turf, clutching the grass with his claw-like hands, and some- times even tearing at it with his teeth in his utter abandon. Then, blazing with sudden hatred for the in- nocent cause of his suffering, he would hiss be- tween his clenched teeth: “Oh, I could tear her joint from joint! Love! She would faint with loathing at my touch; and I—I would sell my soul to have her but look upon me unshrinkingly. E ** And he, the son of the aceursed author of it all is within reach of my arm! Ah! ha!” He clutched his hand in the air, as if he held his enemy by the throat. His laugh was blood- heats Then his humor changed. ‘Her father !” And as his muscles relaxed and his head sunk upon his breast, tears—actual tears trickled down his shaggy beard. Through such extremes of emotion d the tortured heart, not altogether devilish, until the enay light of morning. Through the days that followed, while Mr. Preston lay all unconscious under the loving care of his daughter, the dwarf bided_ his time, with paroxysms of flerce battle to which no eye save that of Heaven was witness. So well did he guard his secret that even the keen eye of his master detected nothing unusual. Not tillGrayson came to him with the news of Mr. Preston’s disap ce did he for a single moment lose self-control. en, in a frenzy that should have been premonitory of the terri- ble forces liable at any moment to burst their bounds, he clutched his master’s arm with a gripe that seemed likely to crush the bones, all the evil of his volcanic nature leaping for. ina rasping ejaculation: “HAH!” ‘¢Tn the fiend’s name!” cried Grayson, , winc- ing with pain; and the lightning swiftness with which a pistol appeared in h d left hand, its muzzle frowning in the dwartf’s face, showed that he was ever on his guard, Instantly the dwarf was the cringing slave; but the transition was not more rapid than Grayson’s return to his wonted nonchalance. “Gently, my good Cal,” he cried. “And pray endeavor not to forget yourself again where there are likely to be witnesses to our lit- tle tableau.” ‘Of course I hold my neck ready to receive your foot,” muttered the dwarf, with fierce irony. aby ii you will do me the favor to look at this weapon, it will serve to account for its being drawn so hastily a moment since,” said Gray- son. Caliban took in the purpose of his master, and his manner, as he examined the weapon would have allayed all suspicion, if any been awakened in the breasts of several tors just far enough removed not to hear the Aialogue. A moment later Grayson had received back his pistol and advanced to the miners in ques- tion; and half an hour had scarcely sion i be- fore a company, some mounted, some afoot, had set out in questof Mr, Preston. | When they Pe te the mountains ne men separated, havin agreed upon si when (ites of the ‘tive should be found. : Alone in the fastnesses bordering the Middle Park, Caliban gave the lash to his passion. “ Oh, Dll search for him!” he snarled between ‘* And when I find him—” his grating teeth. His fingers worked convulsively, and he glared about as if expecting to discover his victim. Without abating his vigilance, he meditated his revenge, his horrible mouth working in its repulsive fashion until foam stood upon his lips. hid so the day waned without result, and at night the searchers camped in two parties, those having gone northward paces Foe rendezvous and Shes to the southera e other. So it happened that, Ethelbert Grayson appearing 10 neither party, each thought him with the phar. What had become of him we shall learn anon. The second day was no more successful than the first, but on the third the dwarf suddenly came upon a figure repens, in the under- growth, and dragging it forth, held in his grasp an imbecile with, chattering teeth and terror- uaking frame, sai Now all the fiends of vengeance, I thank ye!” cried Caliban, with fierce exultation. ” Holding his terror-stricken victim by. the throat as he knelt on the nd, the dwarf drew his knife and held it aloft, as if about to plunge #t into his breast, while he glared at him loatingly. en Marcy! Mercy!” cried Mr. Preston. “I have nothing—absolutely nothing, You may take all can find.” “No fear but I will have all that I wish!” hissed the dwarf. ‘‘ And what I wish and will have is your heart—your life—your soul! _ ““Comie! Ido not inténd to, injure you,” he added, with a sudden change of manner. “ Fol- low me. But do not attempt to escape, or—” He raised his knife menacingly, and glared fis hate. _— oF : A Man of Nerve So they went, until they came toa cave in the mountain fastnesses. “ Enter!” commanded the dwarf. His captive obeyed. The dwarf was evidently acquainted with the place. A pine knot lighted their way. Having gained an enlarged chamber, the dwarf selected one of the corridors leading further into the mountain, and they again fol- lowed a narrow passage, which, after numerous deviations, brought them to a second cave. Mr. Preston looked about him apprehensively, and then regarded his captor with the helpless deprecation of a harmless lunatic. olding the torch above his head, the dwarf glanced from side to side as some feudal baron might have surveyed the stout walls of his donjon, as he committed to it the body of a hated rival. “‘ This,” he said, ‘‘is to be your home and the scene of my revenge. Do you see this ill-shapen trunk?” And the dwarf extended his arms and glanced down at his deformed body. Mr. Preston followed the direction of his eyes helplessly. “Why am I the miserable toad you see me?” demanded the dwarf. ‘‘ You do not know that this is the work of your father—a man whom I hated with a hate only equaled by that which he bore my mother, until death took him beyond the reach of my revenge. I know nothing and care nothing of the merits of their quarrel; I only know that one day he snatched me, an in- fant, from that mother’s breast, and dashed me to the ground, leaving the wreck you see. As he visited his wrath upon his enemy’s child, so will I hurl. my vengeance upon my enemy’s child, and crush—crush—ORUSH you, as he crushed me!” The fury of the dwarf culminated in his fierce vureat, when his thickened articulations seemed to tear their way through his set teeth, throw- ing the foam in flecks from his lips, while the eyes with which he glared at his shrinking vic- seemed to leap with flame. When he left the. chamber he choked up the mouth of the corridor with a large bowlder securing itin its place by asmalJler Peace d stone. aching the outer chamber, he rolled asecond bowlder before the entrance of the corridor, and then pores, into the open air, A strange sense of elation and defiance possess- ed him, and he seemed to walk more erect than was his wont. His life-long hatred had enabled bim to burst at one point the mysterious bonds with which Ethelbert Grayson had trammeled him. Would this breach weaken the power of the magician in other directions? CHAPTER XIX. INDIAN JEALOUSY. AND now for Ethelbert Grayson’s subtlety. It is well enough in its way to have. your ladylove thinking of you as in voluntary exile porenan the Herculean tasks for her sake, ut after all there is nothing like personal pre- sence on the immediate scene of action. Ethelbert Grayson determined to enjoy the advantages of both these modes of attack. ‘Cora Preston, then, was surprised and pained to see him approach her home the next morn- ing on crutches, his right foot swathed in band- ages and his face overspread by an interestin pallor—thanks to his knowledge of the effect o chemicals taken internally! “Why, Mr. Grayson! what has Lappened? You have been hurt,” exclaimed the girl, with that pretty solicitude which all young girls feel for a pre sufferer of the other sex, “Oh, it is nothing,” be replied, cheerfully, sinking with seeming relief, however, into the chair which she placed for him. “TI only re- gret it since it prevents me from further active in the quest of your father, and denies me he pleasure of being the first to bring you the news of his recovery. I turned my ankle ona treacherous bit of ground yesterday, and shall be.on the invalid list for a week or two. I don’t know but it is imprudent for me to be out so soon; but I wish to relieve your anxiety with the assurance that, though I cannot direct the search in person, I have competent scouts at work who will not remit their efforts while there is ony phing left to be done,” The girl thanked him for his kindness, and brought cushions to ease his alleged injured an- kle. * Then, while she went about her household duties, he addressed himself to her mother, un- til by his cheerful conversation he won her mind temporarily from her sorrows. As the girl to and fro she was a con- start witness to his gentleness and tact. She saw that he had won her mother poeple and was doing her real gooa by the soothing in- fluence of his voice and manner. ~ From time to time he addressed Cora on some trifling topic, as if for the pleasure of hearing her voice in reply, and she could feel that he ‘followed her with his eyes, not obtrusively, but with a seeming unconstiousness which was a triumph in the art of flattery. He did not stay too long; but he came again | ri on the following day, and took tea with his1.ew sues in the open air on the shady side of the ouse. When the dainty repast was over and the sun hung upon the horizon, he won Cora {o walk with him in the long summer twilign?, leaving her mother in the company of a gossipy neighbor. As they sat on the marge of the river a: \l watched the radiant beauties the sinking si 1 had left about the distant mountain-tops, thc y conversed in subdued tones, Wilily he brought her under the charm of his society. His clear intellect and positive grasp of thought led her by the mastery of its virile strength, while the esthetic perceptions of the artist won her by almost womanly delicacy. We love those who give us pleasure. Would he win her by steeping her scul in the poesy of beauty, by thrilling her with the inspiration of hivh thoughts. While they were watching the sunset sc dreamily, a whirlwind of passion was awaken. ing in another heart, so near that it almost seemed strange that they did not feel its im fluence. From a coppice of alder bushes peered forth 4 dusky face. The faint blush of health on the smooth cheek had. deepened to the shot glow of anger. The black eyes scintillated ominously. The quivering upper lip disclosed the white teeth but not in smiles. ‘““Why does the Morning Sun toy with the Lily, while his face is denied to Wa-he-ta?’ muttered the Indian girl. ‘‘The Limpid Water lies dead in the shadow, when it would ey sparkle under the light of his smile.” ng she waited and watched, until, with the gathering shadows of evening, the two arose and returned homeward. Then she glided for- ward and stood under the tree that Lad. shelter- ed them, and shivered as if a cold wind had blown across her half-bared bosom. ‘He lay here,” she murmured, looking down at the crushed grass which still bore the im press of his weight. In a sort of ecstasy of fondness, the Indian girl stretched her slight frame, on the ground, nestling where he had reclined. Touching her lips to a knoll which had supported his head, she murmured: “T love you! You were kind to the Sun, who warms me and makes me happy.” Then her manner underwent a sudden change. Stretching forth her clenched hand, she strucl, the spot where Cora had sat. “T hate you!” she cried, savagely. ‘‘ Tho Lily grew there,so that the Sun could smile sig er. Why did you not hide her behind that tree? I hate you, I say—I hate you!” If a great Persian movarch can lash the waters for their hostility, is this simple child of nature utterly ridiculous for chiding inanimate things when her heart was sore? Rast Who even among the enlightened ones, has not flung the hammer across the room, as some sort of satisfaction for the pain of a pounded thumb? When the shadows of night had vailed ali things in obscurity, the faithful Indian gir) crept to Ethelbert Grayson’s cabin and entered. e found him, as was his custom, smoking in the dark. : ‘Only cowards are afraid of their own thoughts,” Grayson had often said to himself, when he reflected on the popular notion that oe makes men shun the darkness. and soli: ude. In the moment that the girl’s slight form was framed in the doorway he recognized her. ‘““Well, why is Wa-he-ta here?’ he asked with no shade of impatience in his voice. “Did I not tell her that I desired to be free for a season?” “Let not the Morning Sun be clouded with anger,” said the girl, with deprecating plain- tiveness. ‘* Wa-he-ta saw that Sa-lo-wa-no was suffering. She is come to bathe his hurt with her tears and bind it with her hair.” . “Strike a light,” said Grayson, carelessly. The girl complied. Rising from the couch on which he had been lying, he stood before her. te ere is my wound?” he asked, Wa he-ta glanced down at his foot. He axe his poet boot, as usual, There was no sign of any ages. The girl looked up in surprise, Half smiling, he cut a pigeon-wing, as if to assure her of soundness. ‘ Sa-lo-wa-no wishes to put a cloud before the eyes of his enemies?” said the girl, half in- quiringly. Accustomed to the artifices of Indian warfare, to her all deception indicated some sort of hos- tility; but the incongruity of viewing Cora as Le aareny, amused Grayson so that he laughed oud. In a moment, however, he became serious again, and said; “Let the Limpid Water not question why the Morning Sun goes behind a cloud, or why he reappears. Enough, he wishes her to lie in the shadow for a while. She must not be seen ldok- ing at the Sun. Go!” ‘The girl looked at him wistfully, but he ex-
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- the lounge. A moment she stood in the darkness, as if struggling with her heart. Then the door opened, and she glided out into the night. The dwarf’s hate had conquered his docility; | would her love conquer hers? CHAPTER XX. A DOUBLE WARNING. On the following day Grayson noticed that (‘ora seemed very much distressed at some- iuing. Several times she seemed on the point of speaking, and as often refrained in evident embarrassment. Availing himself of a time when her mother was dozing, he said: “Miss Preston, our acquaintance has been brief, but you must recognize in me one desirous of serving you in every way that a true friend | can. Ido not wish to force your confidence, but I cannot help seeing that you are ill at ease, and if Ican aid you in any way, I hope that you will feel free to command me.” “Tt is because I feel that we are already tres- passing too far upon your eae said the girl, flushing painfully. “1 must tell you that * papa took away with him all the gold-dust that we had, so that we have not the means to repay you your generous outlay in employing men to | look for him. As much as it must pain us to rive over the search, we cannot, of course, ac- cept from a—comparative stranger—” There were tears in her eyes as she looked up toseeif her words had hurt him. In view of his great kindness, she had softened the appella- tion stranger by a pause and the faintest per- ceptible stress on the qualifying word compara- tive. Ethelbert Grayson read her Rae te nature like an open book. Calling all his histrionic powers to his aid, he seemed to shrink with generous sensitiveness. ‘Miss Preston,” he said, stammering slightly, as if with embarrassment, “I ho you will not view my—temporary loan in the light of an obligation. I can spare it easily; and when we recover your father he can repay me. Can you let what at bestis but a conventionality eut off the chance of perhaps saving his life?” The girl was so moved by the infinite delicacy which lay more in his manner than in bis words that she took his hand and let the tears ‘ ILupon it. Very gently he said: j “If the world were not so cold and selfish, it yuld see that we all owe these little helps to . 16 another in adversity. If you feel grateful (> me, show it by not paining me by further » erence to this subject.” What appeal could be more effective to a ) oung, romantic girl, herself the soul of gen- cvosity? After that their friendship flowed smoothly bn, until a week had elapsed since Mr. Preston’s lisappearance. One day Cora was startled by an Indian girl ©! about her own age, who regarded her fixedly : ‘th flashing eyes. ‘Why would the Lily come between the ‘iorning Sun and the Limpid Water?” de- sanded the Indian girl abruptly. ‘* What do you mean?” asked Cora, not a lit- ‘lo surprised. ‘-T hate you!” hissed the savage. Cora shrunk away, for Wa-he-ta had laid her hand bn the hilt of a hunting-knife which she zarried. ‘* Oh, the pale-face need not fear me,” said ie girl. ‘*Sa-lo-wa-no would never smile .pon Wa-he-ta again if she were to stain the white breast of the Lily with blood. But I hate youl—I hate you more bitterly than the eg hates the rattlesnake. “Why do you hate me?” asked Cora, some- what recovering her equanimity. ‘Do you not sing in the ears of Sa-lo-wa-no ntil he cannot hear the purl of the water where it falls over the white pebbles?” ** Sa-lo-wa-no? Who or what is Sa-lo-wa- no?” “He is the Morning Sun,” said the Indian virl, proudly. “ His smile is like the yellow ound red and blue on the morning sky. His wreath is as sweet as the wind that_sucks the dew from. the prairie flowers, in June. But ‘vhen he hides his face in anger the earth is all ark. No brave dares to take his scalp. Even Caliban, who boasts that he fears not the devil - the pale-face, slinks away when he points his arer. “orely screed at this bombastic rigmarole, va said: “ But Ido not understand. Whois he? Does he tive in Denver? Have I ever seen him?” “ Bah! is the white squaw. a fool?” demanded Wa-he-ta, impatiently. ‘‘ Does she sit in his smile every day—does she sigh because she thinks it pains him to walk on three legs—does she p'ace the soft cushions under his foot—and then ask: Who is Sa-lo-wa-no?” “Oh, do you mean Mr. Grayson?—the gentile- mon who has hurt bis foot and comes to my borrse on erutches?” * Les, that is Sa-to-wa-no.” tinguished the light, and went and lay down on | A Man of Nerve. ‘Well, what about him?’ ““Wa-he-ta loves him, and hates you, because you woo him with your treacherous smiles.. All the pale-faces sing lies—all but Sa-lo-wa-no.” Cora flushed crimson at the charge preferred against her so hotly. “Youare mistaken,” she said. ‘‘I do not woo him.” ‘Your tongue is crooked,” said the Indian girl, firmly. ‘‘Cannot Wa-he-ta see? She has skulked from bush to bush, like the coyote, watching you. Before he saw you, he was glad when Wa-he-ta made wampum in his wigwam. Now he hides his face fromher. You sing and sing, and he shuts his eyes and listens so that he could not hear the thunder of a_ buffalo stampede. Shall I not hate you, then? I say, take care! Some day, when the blood is in her eyes and she cannot see, Wa-he-ta may cut the Lily so that she shall droop and die.” Overcome by passion, Wa-he-ta put her hands before her eyes and ran away, as if fleeing from the temptation to put her threat into immediate execution. Not a little dismayed, and pained at the thought that Ethelbert Grayson, whom she had come to regard as a gentleman, should have been guilty of trifling with this simple child of the wilderness, Cora went home yery thought- fully. Haif an hour later George Everett felt his arm plucked from behind, and turned to see a pair of savage black eyes fixed upon his in something like impatience and contempt. ‘‘ Has the white miner the heart of a squaw?”’ asked Wa-he-ta, for it was she. ‘A cloud is over his heart. He sees that the Lily is slipping from his hand. Wh his wigwam? Bah! he is a coyote!” ‘* What’s the row, Wa-he-ta?” asked George, for he had some acquaintance with her. ‘Go! The Open Heart must look to the Lily —Beauty, the pale-faces call her. She is sing- ing in the ears of the Morning Sun, and winning his heart from Wa-he-ta.” re What! has Grayson been making love to ou? “Come! come!” said the Indian girl, impa- tiently. ‘‘Too much talk. Go to the Lily. Don’t be fool.” And she pushed him forward. George might have smiled at her method of peer had not his heart ached. As it was e turned away without further words. “*T will speak to her, whatever comes of it,” he muttered. ‘If she throws herself away on that villain, it shall not be for want of warn- CHAPTER XXI. ADVICE—HOW GIVEN, HOW RECEIVED. WHEN George Everett entered her presence Cora mceret him with a beating heart, yet with outward coldness. He owed some en ation of his neglect before he was received ; Her manner struck a chill to George, and he floundered wretchedly through a lot of common- places, her monosyllabic replies not helping him out any. Presently, in a fit of rg aagtcsan through which pique showed plainly, he plunged in me- dias res. . “Cora,” he said, “‘I have been wanting to speak to you about a matter—” And here he came to a dead stop, ‘* Ah?” said the girl. “T don’t know that you will listen to it kind- ly—most girls don’t.” Ano dead stop, with a lump of bitterness rising in his throat. He knew just how it was going to end. The girl bridled and was silent, She had an instinctive foreshadowing of what was coming. This evidence of resistance at the outset an- gered George, and his words were better chosen than his manner, as he said: “* “Of course it is not your fault; but you are encouraging the attentions of a villain, and you ought to be warned before it is too late.” ‘Mr. Everett, Ido not understand you!” ex- claimed the girl. It is the privilege of the sex to tell such white lies, when the fact is that Moses and all the prophets could not make the case clearer to their comprehension. “T mean to say that Mr, Ethelbert Grayson, who has been hanging about you every day for a week, is not a fit associate for any honest | one has been woman.” does he not take her to | SS ee eee eee | SSS Grayson, he has ever proved himself a refined gentleman, of association with whom any lady might be proud. I may add that he has been a friend in need, when those who made greater professions fouad it convenient to absent them- selves,” _She would not have been a woman, and re- sisted the temptation to slash him for his neglect. Through all her anger she wanted him to explain why he had stood aloof at such a moment. If he had only told her then that he had spent every day of that week in search of her father, their interview might have taken a different tone; but that would have involved an explana- tion of his motive for not joining the others, from which his pride revolted. On the other hand, he was too much in love to wholly dis guise the pain which her words caused him. ‘You have no right to make such a compar ison,” he said. ‘‘ But what can you expect from a woman, when money and knavery are in oné side of the balance?” “« Against cowardice and slander in the other!’ supplemented the girl, and added, with increas ing heat: ‘“‘ Why do you not bring some defi nite charge, so that he can make you swallow your words? What has Mr. Grayson done, that you should persecute him in this manner? Hag e not a right to his money, so long as he came by it honestly?” “Oh, certainly. And having f gentlemanly exterior is sufficient guarantee for his having come by it honestly. All gentlemen of unex- ceptionable broadcloth are as immaculate as their shirt fronts.” “He says that he made his money at mining, and is here looking for a good investment. De you know of h’s gambling, if that is what you are hinting at?” “Oh, no,” sneered George. ‘ But it is not ne- cessary to have specific acts to judge of a man’ character. However, I have very good reason to believe that he has been trifling, if not worse. with a beautiful Indian girl—a mere peccadillo!’ Cora remembering what Wa-he-ta had said; but of course she declared, roundly: “*T do not believe it!” “Of course not,” sneered George. ‘‘ But, granting it were so, itis rather in his favor than otherwise.” And he laughed bitterly. The girl flushed to the temples, drew a deep breath, as if to hurl her indignation at him in words; but suddenly whirled and swept into the house without a word. ** Well,” muttered George, between his clench- ed teeth, “I ought to be content; my efforts have been crowned by perfect success!’ CHAPTER XXII. ETHELBERT GRAYSON IN A DOUBLE ROLE. At their next meeting Grayson was quick t« discover a a in Cora’s manner toward him. After a little study he approached her «iw the subject. **Miss Preston,” he said, ‘‘pardon me if 1] seem abrupt; but what has come between 1s since yesterday?” , Cora flushed painfully, and was plainly af a loss for a reply. “T am very sensitive to any change in the people with whom I associate,” continued Gra y- son, looking at her wistfully; ‘‘and I cannot but feel that something has intervened since our last meeting which makes your manner more guarded. ill you be frank with me and tell me what it is?’ Cora had somewhat recovered her self-posses- sion, yet she laughed uneasily as she said: “Do you hope to account for a woman’s whims? We arecreaturesof change, you know. If I have changed, as you suppose, I assure you it is because of no fault of either omission or commission on your part. ill not that sat- isfy Ri “No,” he said, fravely. “You are not a wo- man of whims. e change is one of lessened confidence in me—” “Oh, I beg that you—” ‘Excuse me. You are generous enough to give me the benefit of the doubt. Butthat there should be any debate must have sprung from an efficient cause.” “But if I assure you that my confidence 11 youis not shaken?” “Will you as generously inform me if some g to you about me?” “T admit that such is the case. But it would Notice the conciliatory expression in which be an insult to you to seem for a moment to be- good advice is always clothed. The reply could not be other than: ‘Indeed! I have found him a very agreeable com vent ? pea G addi * No doubt!” sna eorge, SAV; y- “ Following what: you have just said of him, your last words are exceedingly complimentary, sir!” cried the girl, white to the lips. “There is nothing personal in them. . Their cb iggae is to womanhood in get » rep eorge, recanting 4 re “T have always heard that men are to be measured by their estimate of womanhood. Tam sorry I find myself so mistaken in some of my acquaintances. As for my friend, Mr. a en lied | lieve what was said, and I am sure that there is a mistake somewhere. So if you will drop the subject—” ‘Ts it kind to ask me to leave a calumny un- refuted? There is nothing more dangerous than to leave that which, can and ought to be ex- plained to rest upon blind faith.” _Cora’s position was a very delicate one. She did not wish to betray the Indian girl; nor was it, the easiest of tasks to tell a gentleman friend of a week’s standing that another woman had thought it necessary to come to her and assert ' her prior claim to him. As she hesfated, Grayson continued with Lis assumed poet Uke sensitiveness; \
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YA “Tf the sacrifice of personal feeling is too great, I prefer that you should let me remain under the imputation—” The raising of her eyes was the signal for him to pause. He never marred the effect by add- ing useless words after his point was gained. e admired the delicate changes of color in her face and her bird-like shyness as she said: “Do you know an Indian girl named Wa- he-ta?”’ He was prepared at all points. The question never phased him. His face lighted with seem- ing ingenuous interest, as he said: ‘Oh, yes. I once saved her from a young grizzl that mint have lacerated her vs she wou He looked puzzled. = Are you— Oh, I cannot ask you the ques- tion! And Cora broke off, overwhelmed with em- varrassment. Grayson smiled indulgently, and yet as if he wondered what was coming. Cora rallied, and with a desperate effort ‘cooked him squarely in the face and said: 4 ‘““Can it be possible that you have trifled with ‘he feelings of one so unsophisticated?” Grayson stared at her at first as if too much wrprised tospeak. Then with a breaking smile of amusement, he asked: * And ‘s that it?” “Didn’t I tell you it was absurd?’ urged Cora, almost ready to cry with a sense of shame, and feeling not a little vexed at him for aaving forced her into so uncomfortable a posi- tion. Grayson’s face grew suddenly grave. = Miss 1 Preston,” he said, ‘‘ I am glad for more reasons than one that this matter has been broached between us. It is commendable to your womanly delicacy and innate purity of charac- ter that you attach so much importance toa matter which too many women would have re- arded with indifference or very lenient repro- bation. A squaw is just as much a woman as the finest lady in the land, and treachery to her were all the more cowardly and wicked by rea- son of her relative helplessness. ‘*No, Miss Preston, it is not possible that I have trifled with Wa-he-ta.” That settled the matter. If he had read it out of Revelations, his words would not have car- ried more perfect conviction. ‘*But I cannot imagine who has suggested yuch a thought to you,” he added. ‘* When I tell you I have no right to answer ne a you will surely not urge it,” said 6 girl. Grayson bowed compliance; but the fact was he read her motive of delicacy like an open age. : hree hours later he had sent for Wa-he-ta hy the dwarf, and received her in his cabin. Hs had merely said, with assumed careless- ‘lest, between two whiffs of his cigar: ‘“‘ Cal, I want to see Wa-he-ta to-night. Find her forme. By the way, if you forget to re- iurn with her, I’ll not lay it up against you.” S) the girl had no warning of what was com- lng. Vi hen she had struck a light she scanned his lace. There was only dreamy contemplative- ‘tess in it. With the silent devotion of an animal she sat fown at his feet, and resting her cheek against tis knee, waited. Ha spoke quietly, with no trace of resentment ja his voice. ‘What did Wa-he-ta say to Miss Preston since she was last here?” ‘ A white girl, so shocked, might have lea to her feet and stood trembli Being an In- dian, Wa-he-ta raised her h from and. looked into his face. There was no start, but a dying away of the fiue of health in her olive cheek; and out of her eyes looked the death of hope. Grayson waited patiently for her reply. He never repeated a question to one whom he could romamand. ; ‘*T told her that she must not sing in the ears of the Morning Sun, and woo him from the Limpid Water,” said the girl. Her soul was expired with the breath that formed those words; but she did not flinch. ““ Was that all?’ asked Grayson, as if he were listening to a bit of idle gossip. <7 told her that Wa-he-ta might cut the Lily « that she would droop and die, if she did no beware.” ‘Have you spoken to any one else of this matter?’ ‘The Open Heart.” “The Open Heart?” “Everett.” Mentally Grayson added: “That accounts for his black looks. I thought os much, And he must have added his warn- ing to Wa-he-ta’s. Well, we will make provision for him,” Aloud he asked: . “What did you say to him?” knee 3 A | Man of Nerve. a 18 **T told him that he was a fool not to see that the Lily was slipping from his hand.” “*Humph!” Grayson smiled—mentally. After a meditative pause he said: “‘T think that I once told you that I wished no one to know that we were even so much as ac- uainted. " The girl leoked at him with that piteous de- precation which is seen in the eye of a dog when tied to a tree to beshot. Grayson was less moved than the man who points the gun. ** And you have told two persons that I am your lover,” he pursued, as if he were reciting a mathematical formula. The girl awaited her doom in dumb despair. “T thought I had made myself sufficiently understood,” he pursued, without taking the cigar from his mouth. ‘It seems you do not oT, me yet. Let us see if you can understand this. As he ceased s ing he raised his foot, and deliberately placing it against her breast, as she knelt before him, pushed her from him— not Maer b yet fi . A slight effort would have saved her from falling. e did not make it. With a submission which might have be- come an Oriental, she yielded to the pressure of his foot until she fell backward on the floor. _Dumbly she rose to her feet and stood before “Go,” he said, laying no stress of command on the word. The girl was like a statue of bronze without. In her soul was the dead hush that precedes the hurricane. wet she withdrew from the room, stopping mechanically to extinguish the light as'she d it. y the time the door had closed at her back the storm was upon her. The tide of ion swept over her as the tornado tears through the glade, making the stout trees writhe, rend- ing the frail flowers from their stems. ith her hands clutched in her hair at either temple, she rushed forth into the night, a rasp- ing murmur of pain and fury issuing from her ps. She had taken scarce a score of steps in her mad flight, when a heavy hand clutched her arm, and the voice of the dwarf hissed in her ear: ‘* Girl! what is the matter?” CHAPTER XXIII. A SHOT IN THE BACK. Ir was a moment before Wa-he-ta was calm vera | to recognize her father. Then she as- sailed him with a burst of fierce words. “Ts the Turtle a Dog Soldier?” she cried likening his servility to the cowardice of the most contemptible of the western Indians. ‘‘Sa-lo- wa-no spits upon him, yet he licks his hand. Bah! he has not the heart of a squaw. His blood is water. His—” “Hold on!” snarled the dwarf. ‘ The big- gest fighting-man on the plains or in the moun- tains couldn’t say that and live.” ‘“Why do you, who fear nobody else, crawl on your belly like a whipped cur before this— this half a man, who is not taller than a big squaw, whose hand is as soft and white as the hand of a white squaw?” Pe dwarf shook his head gloomily and mut- ‘* Medicine!” It was the Indian word for anything mysteri- ous or supernatural. Superstition had come to be a great element in support of Grayson’s pow- er. — an Indian, anger made the girl impa- ent. “Bah! if you pinch him, will he not biged; if you choke him, will he not die?” she demanded. ‘ All his medicine shall not save him from my revenge. Ihatehim! Ihate him!” The night covered the darkening frown on the brows of the dwarf. He had expected this, knowing that Grayson’s attraction to Cora boded. no good to his Indian love. ‘*So, she has been Cast off so soon!” he mut- tered, with a keener tinge of pain than his own wrongs had caused him. Aloud he said: ‘** What has he done to you?” The reply came like a pistol-shot: “‘ Spurned me with his foot!” Caliban started violently, and clutched the hilt of his knife. Dimly through the gloom the girl saw the action, “Does this find your manhood? Dare you avenge me now?” she asked. The dwarf gnashed his teeth in silence. Wa-he-ta straightened up and tossed her hand toward him with a contemptuous gesture. “‘T do not ask your hand to strike,” she said. “T am a squaw; but I have the courage to pes out the heart of my enemy. Go! Wa-he- can avenge her own wrongs.’ Before he could prevent her, she glided away into the night. After this scene with his daughter the dwarf stood a long while with his head hanging on his breast, and hot tears falling from his eyes and trickling down his shaggy beard. : * Another young life blasted!” he muttered; ‘* and still another to fall into his hands.” He tore at his neck-cloth, as if suffocating. Then with his fierce face raised to the dar heavens, he cried aloud: ““Great God, do you desert us utterly?” A of wind shook a branch laden with raindrops, and dashed the water in his face, He accepted it as in some sort an answer to hix invocation. ‘Yes, yes,” he muttered, “‘even nature has a grudge against some of her children.” Then he strode off through the night with clenched fists and set teeth, his deformed breast shaken by stormy sobs. “*Tt’s easy enough to fight one enemy, or ten, oF R breagen act F a moaned. ise. who ow e wor o can struggle against the will of Omnipotence as expressed in the in- stincts of men? When achild runs screaming with terror from FEL Presence, shall I take its innocence to task? hen my own child shrinks shuddering away from contact with my repul- sive trunk, is she at fault? ‘And she, she too is despised. The world would —— her wrongs to scorn. If reproba- tion should reach her destroyer, it would be that be could demean himself to the level of a Uaw. “ And I—oh God!—I submit! Shall I tamely | bend my neck to him as a stepping stone to that other? Cora! Cora!” He dwelt on the name with atone in which his masterful love blended with a plea for for- giveness. y Half an hour later his passion had burned itself out, and he stood in the presence of his master, the snarling, fierce-eyed slave of old. <: oe I have another job for you.” “ce ! . Everett is in my way.” bie Um! “ And must be put out of it!” “By my hand bs By your hand.” ** How soon?” “The sooner the better.” be 7 ve you any preference as to method?” “ es,’ “Tf I should pick a with him—” “That won’t do.” Liratide “‘Or if he should be mysteriously killed and robbed, like so many others during the last a months.” ‘No. ‘*- Well, what do you want?” Grayson thought a moment. Then he looked up. “ce y ” rs rd pass disappear. “* As if he went away of his own accord.” a ‘hen he is to be held alive? Something of a “Did you ever know of my bei ilty of such Rolly? Held alive indeed!” Based “No, I never knew ot your sparing life, unless there was something to ined by it.” Grayson took no notice of the sarcasm. “No one need know that heis dead. Let it be supposed that he has left Denver. No over- close inquiry after him is probable.” ‘Have Pion any idea how all this may be ac- complished?—any plan to Suggest?” ‘For the past week he has alone in the mountains looking for Miss Preston’s father.” ‘* Hah!” interrupted the dwarf, with a start. Then beneath his breath he muttered: ‘He is welcome to look with the rest of you!” “He may go back again—TI think he will,” pursued Grayson. ** And I can follow him?’ i You can follow him. The rest I leave to ou. “To the end that he may rot in some aban- doned shaft, or make food for the coyotes and buzzards.” “You divine my thoughts, Cal. You were always good at that.” ‘A simple rule,” sneered the dwarf. ‘I im- agine that at which hell itself would shudder, and multiply by two.” Grayson laughed. ‘“Your wit is equaled only by your ugliness, ese 9! cog TO 1 aster.” : one thing else, my master. “4 Eh? By what, pray?” “By the humility with which I lick the foot that spurns me!” the dwarf, with an acrid bitterness that made even his careless master regard him a moment seriously. ut a moment, however. shru; his shoulders. “We are quits there,” he said. by tolerating the kiss. He yawned, and said: “ Good-night!” As he turned his face to the wall the dwarf glared at him. : Perhaps thirty seconds passed, in which the dwarf never moved. At the end of that time a slight motion on the part of his master, resulting from a relaxa- tion of the muscles, attracted his vigilant eye. With a look of wonder Caliban glided across Then Grayson “T repay you
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1 —— the room on. tiptoe, until he, could look into Grayson’s calm face. * ‘* My (rod! he is asleep!” muttered the dwarf. * He must be in league with the fiend, to dare to put himself thus in my, power, after his ‘aunts. _My power! , Pah!’ With this fierce self-abasement he turned, ex- ee the light, and glided from the hut. mee more he had been deceived. Grayson was not asleep and in his hand whieh was hid- den beneath his body he held a cocked pistol. He knew that his power lay in that seeming au- dy cious carelessness, “Tf IT am ever compelled to shoot my dear Caliban,” he laughed, when alone, ‘‘ who will question the story that I was defending my- wit against a burglar?” Four days later, and the echoes of the Middle Vark are aroused by a pistol shot, A. hideous. face is thrust, from a coppice, to ‘ee the effect of the treacherous shot. Shot in the back while passing along absorbed in, gloomy thought, George Everett throws u his arms with a’cry, turns half-round, and fal tackward to the ground. The dwarf is about to. step forth, when an vnswering call comes from no great distance. With a curse he shrinks back,inte cover, and «i-des noiselessly away. CHAPTER XXIV. ETHELBERT GRAYSON’S LOVE. Cora PRESTON believed in Ethelbert Gray- son’s honor. . There was no question of that. On the other hand, she believed that George Averett had been actuated by a spirit of pett ealousy, and that he had shown inexcusable ill emper. Notwithstanding all this, she could not help feeling rather lenient toward George and only half satisfied with Ethelbert, while she was dis- ped to blame herself most of all. She might iave been a little less haughty.and avoided the »yresent estrangement. Had George come back, to her on that day or the next, she would doubtless have been very gracious. But when the second day passed with- out bringing him she. began to feel piqued, and at the end of the third she snapped. “Tf he wants.to sulk, let him sulk!” Upon which she indulged in a good ery. But the next day her pride was in arms, and she treated Ethelbert Grayson with a warmth of friendship which showed that she was deter- tnined to give her other lover good cause for his jealousy. Like most revenge, this yielded her very little satisfaction. But it had an effect altogether unlooked-for. It deluded. cunning Ethelbert Grayson, who thought that he could read a voman’s heart at a glance. That night he reviewed every look and ac- tion. As each grain of evidence fell into the scale it added a new impetus to his blood. And ioon he, the ‘cool hand” in deeds that are wont to stir other men’s souls to the bottom, was nacing the floor of his. cabin, his eyes flashing, his nostrils quivering, his face aglow with an mnotion to which his nature had hitherto been ‘y stranger. “Tlove her! My God, how Ilove her. And ‘he is mine! mine! mine /” He repeated the word with something of sav- ‘gi triumph, as if he were defying fate to dis- xute his ownership. In his excitement he struck his hands togeth- »r, and then pressed them to his face, hen \e took them away he was as pale as death. “Tt was a hellish thought,” he muttered. ‘No, no; I weuld extirpate the race before they hould balk me in this!’ He sat down at the table, and bowing his _ lace into his hands, exercised all the powers of iis imagination to bring her vividly before him, ‘hat he might worship her,. At last his heart ot ice had burst into that flame against which 20 ngerh that the world ever knew has been proof. All night long he tossed about on his bed thinking those thoughts that come to us all at one time or another, building those castles osm airy minarets seem to touch heaven A strong love always renovates the heart weeding out selfishness and potas in its stead that grand magnanimity which finds its joy in eonferring happiness upon another. Tn those hours, that slipped by almost unob- served, Ethelbert. Grayson made many resolves for the future, determining to live more wor- thily of the woman whose was @ con- stant rebuke to sin. With her as a monitor ever at his side, he felt that reform would be easy. Who has not. lain awake through a Jong, fe- vered night until the first caroling of the birds soothed his perturbed thoughts and lulled him to slumber? When the sun rose Ethelbert Grayson had just sunk, into a dreamless sleep, which lasted until nearly noon, It was late in the afternoon when he sought Cora’s side. He had taken more than usual pains with his toilet, He walked with a cene now. A Man of N erve. Cora’s greeting chilled him a little. He felt a mem = her since ba day pened BA: did not suspec owever, that she too passed a yante night, in fierce self-conflict. Her love and her pride had battled right roy- ally. In Grayson’s absence love had gained the upper hand. So she met him coldly on his first approach, . But she fell to contrasting his chiv- alrous attentions with Everett’s. neglect, and then pride flaunted its crimson banner over de- feated love. There was no reason why she should treat one gentleman with discourtesy because .another was cold to her. Asa sort of recompense, she swung over to the other extreme. Blinded. by the egotism of love, Grayson did not analyze her shifting moods. He only saw her gracious, and believed the gods propitious to his suit. Cora was too much engrossed in her own wretched desperation to suspect what,she was doing, until his declaration burst upon her. “You have known me less than a fortnight, Cora,” he murmured, his eyes devouring her with a look which only one emotion can give them, while his tongue framed the words with feverish rapidity; ‘‘ but for twice that length of time—ever since my eyes first. rested upon ou— But here she interrupted him. They were seated in a sortof arbor, forméd by a vine trailing over a cottonwood tree. While they were conversing a murmur of voices had come from a distance on the air. Neither had noticed it until at this point a crowd of men appeared round a neighboring house ad- vancing along the street which passed in front of Cora’s home. Some few were on horseback; but most were on foot; and all were talking excitedly, their words plentifully interlarded with rude oaths. ‘Oh, Mr. Grayson! what is this?” asked Cora, giad of an excuse for interrupting him before e had put his thought into words. Without waiting for him, she sprung up and hastened through the house to the cred With something like an oath Grayson follow- ed her. His love for her had engendered high thoughts, but his patience was liable to surprises by annoyance. “What is the matter?’ asked Cora, of a wo- man who was running by with a frightened OOK, ‘*Oh, Miss Preston,” cried the woman piteous- ly, putting the corner of her apron to her eyes, **you knowed Mr. Everett? There never was.a kinder heart; and I done all his washin’, ma’am.” Cora caught her breath and turned deathly pale, af mention of George’s name. “Well! well! what is it?” she cried, with her hand to her heart. ‘*Oh, sure, ma’am, you’re not well,” said the woman, with quick solicitude. With the fury of keen pain held in suspense Cora clutched her by the shoulder, and shaking her, cried: “Speak! speak! What has happened to Mr. Everett?” “Oh, ma’am, don’t be frightened; but poey7e shot him—somebody—when he was looking for your father: the men say.” Cora did not faint; but she swayed to one side so that Ethelbert Grayson instinctively extended his arm to catch her. She flung it from her with the impatience of a tortured spirit, and then with an altering step walked out into the street to intercept the advancing crowd. Already her burning eye had detected a rudely constructed litter borne by two horses walking in line, Ethel Grayson too saw it and a light. of — satisfaction came into his eyes, as he mut- tered: “T forgive the interruption. The death of my only rival is joy enough for one day. If you mourn him, my pretty one, I shall be your com- forter. I am w lling to wait for sucha prize. In the end it shall be mine!” 4 As for Cora, these words Were ringing in her ears: “While he was looking for your father.” CHAPTER XXV. EVERETT IN FULL POSSESSION. “Stop, gentlemen!” They did stop, and fell back, making way for her to pass to the side of the litter. She had raised her hand with a gesture of command that impressed them all strangely. Her extreme pallor, her stately step—all unac- customed—made her seem like some young seeress. Though those rude men did not understand what awed them, it was the dignity of the hu- man soul when great emotions make it transcend the petty limitations of its physical habitation. Blatant grief is of the earth earthy; but the dumb lips and burning eye divorce the stricken spirit from all that is ‘ The gir! stood de the litter and looked down or tbe st*il form. “Ts he dead?” she asked, in an awe-struck whisper, “Not yet, Ireckon,” answered a miner, whose gentle tone was in marked contrast with his rough appearance. “Oh, is there hope for him? Can he recover?” asked the girl, suddenly excited. ‘‘We’re taking him to the hotel. The doctor 1 prospect him and give an opinion, I reckon.” “Oh, no. _ He will not receive proper care at You said he was looking for my My father’s daughter will nurse him back to health. Bring him into the house im, mediately.” Amurmur of approval went through the crowd,. More than one pRougne that it was worth being wounded to have the pleasure of so sweet a nurse, Ethelbert Grayson alone would have cut off his right hand rather than see his rival enter that. house. alive. _His only hope was that the wound would prove fatal. Meanwhile; he put on a fair seeming, and offered to do anything in his power. When Caliban was again in his presence, that night, Grayson said, with no manifestation of the chagrin he felt; “* Ah, you seem to have bungled the job.” “Could I know every inch of the ground in the Middle Park?’ asked the dwarf. ‘It was from.no lack of will, as the bullet in him will rove. I am glad that it is not more material you.” * Not material to me?” ‘You do not seem much put out about if.” “‘Did you ever see me put out about any- thing?” ‘“No, by the fiend—to whom you must be very nearly related.” “Well, I would rather be in his place now and.know that he was dead, than that the affair should turn out as it has.” Grayaon spoke so quietly that the dwarf stared at him, “The devil himself!” he muttered. Then, at Grayson’s request he told how a party, of searchers had nm near enough to ear Everett’s cry and come to his aid. Meanwhile the excitement caused by the mysterious affair ran high, Every “hard case” in town—and there was no scarcity of them!—was roger dev with suspicion; but there was not a spark of evidence to point to any one in pexdenlar. doctor had extracted the ball, and George Everett lay in an ¢ sleep. ‘“*T can dress Lis wound; it remains with you, Miss Preston, to keep the life in him until nature can_ recuperate. e has lost a great deal of blood. even for so strong a man,” was the ver- dict of scientific skill. Cora took up her mission with a fullness of the heart which promised well for the care her patient would receive. When she was alone with him she stood look- ing down at him through tears of gratitude and Ove. ‘“He was searching for my rather, after my treatment of him,” she murmured, Then she bent and pressed her trembling lips to his brow. Perhaps that light touch called up pleasant dreams; for he smiled in his sleep. As a means of support. Cora returned to her needle, and this, with the care of her patients left her little time for morbid grief over the disa: ance of her father, though the tears would well into her eyes when she thought of him, perhaps now dead from exposure. Grayson had been more than kind. He had continued the search long after every one else pronounced it hopeless. As for his suit he never followed up his inter- rupted declaration, though he continued his v Feeling not free from compunction of con- science, Cora treated him with ey penile consideration, yet in amanuer which held out no ment for lover-like attentions. More and more she chafed under the sense of obligation to him. One day he found her extremely nervous, and when he arose to go, she drew a buckskin bag from a table drawer and placed it before him. Its contents had the unmistakable clink of coins. ‘“Mr. Grayson,” she said with no little embar- rassment, ‘‘ you have never told me how great an expense you incurred in the search for my father. If you will do so now, I am ready to make a more substantial .return than empty thanks.” Looking into his face she saw him suddeiy flush to the temples and as suddenly pale agai. his voice, he ie an evident effort to steady said; ‘Miss Preston, I have tried to do that. which hes Paige ~ J Wha you reciprocate, anc no in me by insisting on my accep’ repay- ment at this time? Of outa we both know that it will be easier for me to wait until some future time than for you to draw from your present scanty means of support.” He manifested such cae yee that the gis! shrunk from the line she had marked out |: herself, but other considerations urged her fc. - ward, and she said, steadily: “You mistake, sir. In repaying you, I ai.
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or a A Man of Nerve, ot embarrassing myself. I thank you for your consideration.” “But in these few weeks you cannot have earned—” began Grayson. : Quick asa flash she resented this prying into her affairs. With a sudden hauteur she would not otherwise have assumed, she said: ‘* No, the money is not my own, but belongs to one who has the right to assume any indebt- edness I may have contracted.” “My God! you have not married—” : “‘T have married no one, sir. If you will oblige me by stating the sum, you shall have it with interest.” nO The last thrust was because of outraged feel- ing at his persistence. Gravett was purple in the face, In the pres- ence of the woman he loved his marvelous self- ’ possession failed him. He was a “cool hand” no longer. “T do not know how much money I expended nm the search,” he said. Now her eyes flashed. “What is the meaning of this?” she de- manded. “Tt was a free gift,” he replied: ‘*Of course } never expected to receive a cent back.” “You insult me, sir,” cried Cora. ‘‘ What Hight had you to assume that I would receive wich a gift from a stranger?” ‘Am I more a stranger to you than any one ‘lse west of the Mississippi? Have you given me no cause to think that you might accept this gift from me?” ‘ You seemed kind to me; I showed you my gratitude,” said the girl, feeling’ that it was a somewhat lame defense. : ‘¢*You did more than that. In our social in- tercourse there are certain conventional inter- retations which we have a right to put upon he acts of others—” . ; “T know nothing of conventionalities, sir,” interrupted Cora. “ But we are not getting on. There are five hundred dollars, If they will repay you—” Whi e they were conversing Grayson had re- . gained his self-control, and with it his power to plot. With his eye far into the future, he now saterrupted her in turn. - re Halt that sum will be nearer just,” he said. His sudden compliance surprised the girl; but she counted out the money and pushed it toward him in silence. pre oT grace not to add anything by way of interest. Craybon's augers trembled as he gathered up the money. ; “T forgive you all the you have LSet unwittingly caused me,” he said, and the ca- dences of pain in his voice thrilled thé sympa- thetic heart of the girl. ‘I trust that you will do me the justice to believe that when I sought to befriend you I was not conscious of a selfish motive. Good-by!” Impulsively she extended her hand. She Lould not let him leave her with hard feelings. {t seemed like ingratitude. : “TI owe you so much,” she said, and there were tears In her eyes. ; Asa drowning man might clutch at assist- ance he caught her hand. One sweep of his arm, and he had clas her to bis breast and wbbed aloud, with his forehead touching her t oulder. Before she found breath to expostulate, he Yad released her and left the room, without an- ther word or look. 3 She saw him going down the street with all the elasticity lost out of his om Then she fled ‘0 the vine arbor at the back of the house, where her mother and George Everett sat in sasy-chairs, the latter looking pale and thin, but far on the road to restored health. Sisking on the ground at his feet, she hid her iace on his knee and wept bitterly. He saw that he had conquered, but was only half satisfied with the victory. With just a ‘cuch of bitterness he said: ‘Dearest, had I known it would cost you so much, I would not have insisted upon this ifie Tad “ Don’t, George, don’t!” she pleaded, cling- ng to his hand. Her heart was already too ae to bear even a shadow of reproach from ins. An unexpected uest of money from the East had nailed Genus to take her indebted- * ness upon himself, and he had not rested until it was accomplished. - . ““Now,” he said to himself, ‘‘ there is no rival @aimant. It is all plain sailing,” Was it? What of Wa-he-ta’s hate, and the lv ces of the dwarf and his master? CHAPTER XXVL. THE DWARF ACTS. Or al’ the personages in our drama, no one euffered ities: keenly than Wa-he-ta. Her wild nature was stirred to its veriest depths, All unused to self-denial, she was called upon to relinquish to a rival that which was the sum ot all else in life. He Like her more highly civilized sisters, she “blamed the woman,” and, with their contyra- a awh loved the man all the more desperately, while she hated him, too, after a fashion, full as fiercely. But, having wounded him by the destruction of her rival, her hate would be ap- eased, and she would be ready to fly back to is arms. While George Everett was illest, and Cora therefore confined to the house, Wa-he-ta had no pent to wreak her vengeance upon her. But as George became convalescent the lovers walked out together; and sometimes when he was asleep Cora walked alone. At such times the girl was usually ab in deep meditation, and knew nothing of the dusky form that hovered near her. One evening she wandered further than usual, and was more than usually preoccupied. George had urged upon her the propriety of a speedy marriage. She had objected that her father was not yet found, and he had urged: “* But, dearest, if we wait for that, who knows how long our happiness may be deferred.” “George,” she had said, ‘‘ is there any happi- ness for me while dear papa may be lying un- buried in some of those mountain gorges? Do you not see that mamma is pining wey by day over the uncertainity of his fate? If I were only a man, I would not give up the search un- til} had found him, or indisputable evidences of his death.” He had colored high, taking her words as in some sort a reproach to him. “Cora,” was his reply, ““my very love for you has made me indolent, it has been so sweet to linger near you. But I will accept your half-formed thought. I will renew the search, and will not claim your hand until I have set all doubts to rest.” ‘*George, I did not mean that,” she had in- be hurriedly. “No, dear. But your words have shown me my duty. I must go alone, because I am not rich enough to hire others; but my Jove will make me a host. I shall set out on Monday.” And now it was evening and he was gone, and she sat watching the distant mountains bathed ina purple haze, wondering where among them her father might be, and feeling a little doubtful of George’s strength. In marked contrast with the dreamy serenity of her meditations were the fevered thoughts of one almost as beautiful crouching near her. Her breast the scene of a whirlwind of - sion, Wa-he-ta clutched the hilt of a small dirk, and glared at her intended victim from her hid- ing’?! in an alder bush. ‘Your cheek will be whiter yet, when I let the red blood from your bosom!” she muttered. “‘But your voice will be dead, and your eye ean no longer charm Sa-lo-wa-no. Fool! why did you not stay in the States? Neither moun- tain nor prairie wants the lily. One blow, and we are done with you forever! ‘*Sa-lo-wa-no! Sa-lo-wa-no!” she whispered plaintively, “it is because I love you. I would not pain you— Bah! ‘you have no right to grieve because the lily has drooped. You are mine, | I will make you smile again when she is gone. She drew the dagger from its sheath and parted the bushes, in have to a spring. At that instant a hand was laid on her shoul- der, and she was drawn forcibly back. With a muffled ejaculation, she turned and saw her father, the dwarf. ‘““What would the Turtle?’ she demanded, fearlessly ee penetrating glance. “The spirit of the Limpid Water is dark with evil thoughts. Her hands thirst for red blood. Beware! The dagger’s point may turn and pierce the hand that wields it.” ‘““Go! Ihave no words for the Turtle,” said Wa-he-ta, haughtily. ‘But I have a word or two for you,” said the dwarf, ing the Indian metaphor as un- wieldy. ‘‘ You must let that girl alone, or it will be the worse for you.” “The Lily offends my eye. I will cut her from the stem,” said Wa-he-ta, determinedly. “Tf you dare to harm her, I will kill you with my own hand!” cried the dwarf, with a sudden fury of passion. ‘Go fight it out with the devil to whom you gave yourself in spite of alli that I could do; but keep your hands off from this innocent girl.” © “The Turtle is a coward, or he would have plucked the heart out of the Morning Sun long ago. Does he ask the hand of a squaw to take oe be one who hasspurned him and spat upon him?” The dwarf half drew his bowie-knife. **God knows I have been on the point of kill- ing both you and him a hundred times,” he mut- tered. ‘‘Come! out of my sight, or I will be tempted to forget that my blood runs in your veins. His look was so baer that even ier Antes nature was abashed. Her purpose again: ra was no longer feasible; so turning, she fled down the road. Though near at hand, all this had gone on s) low that Cora had no warning. Still uncon- scious, she mused, while the dwarf took the place yacated by the Indian girl. A great change had come over Caliban. Those weeks of torture, while such a hate as men seldom feel battled with a love which was not far removed from idolatry, had consumed his flesh, until he looked almost like a hideous mummy. But the fierce eyes, sunk so deep, showed the vital conflagration within. At least once in forty-eight hours he had vis; ited the object of his hate, when his soul would be torn by a storm of passion almost amount, ing to insanity. As often would he gloat upon the woman of his strange love, until he had quenched the fires of his hate with tears. How long this might have continued there ig no determining; but now he saw Cora threat~ ened by Wa-he-ta’s hate and Grayson’s even more fatal love. Perhaps he might have en- dured to see her Wadtiad. to Everett, knowing that she would be happ with him, but if her life must be wrecked, ie was no sufficient motive for sacrificing his love. ‘*T will never harm you,” he whispered, after a protracted struggle. ‘‘I save you from those who are utterly ruthless.” Then he parted the bushes and moved for- wa Cora was startled from her reverie by a sob close at her side. She tuened witha start, and her heart leaped into her throat. Although he had seen her almost daily, her eyes had never rested upon the dwarf since she had seen him from the window, on the first day of her arrival in Denver. Now, even more terrible than then, he was near enough to touch her. Struck with a terror she had never before felt, she caught her breath to scream. Like a flash the dwarf’s hand closed over her mouth, and ‘unconsciously his face assumed a fierce scowl. At the same instant, to resist her struggles, he drew her tohim until her head rested against his deformed breast. A nauseating sense of loathing overpowered the girl, and with a horrified shudder she lapsed into unconsciousness. Tenderly the dwarf laid her down on the bank where she had been reclining. Then, kneeling beside her, he bent. over her until his —— touched the hand he held reverently in CHAPTER XXVII. HUNTED DOWN. ALL Denver was aroused. Cora Preston had disap ed. Following the veep mysterious crimes the perpetrator of which had gone undetected, this gave rise to the wildest speculation and the fiercest rage. One excited miner ng gk anew rope, and ee head, as he stood on a barrel, said: “Rally! rally! rally! Vigilantes of Denver! Thar’s to be no foolishin’ in this campaign. We've stood this nonsense long enough, an’ now somebody’s got to swing!” A wil 1 greeted this speech. The mob gladly hailed anything that looked like “fun.” Their chaotic energy wanted only a head, which was now found in Ethelbert Grayson. He was looking very pale. He had lost some of his wonted repose. The steady light of his eye Lad given poe to a restless ‘diy In the days that had elapsed since his parting with Cora he had been eating out his own heart. Even in the agony of that parting he had displayed magnanimity, plotting for the fu- ture when he should have swept his hated rival from his path. But the time had seemed so long and the event so uncertain that alternating ee and despair had tortured him almost into ness. He knew of George’s unexpected departure from Cora’s home; and her ppearance so ae it aroused a haunting suspicion in his min “‘ Suppose she rejected him asshe rejected me,” he mused; “‘and he, not being such a paltering coward as I, determined to have her, whether or no. I haveall along assumed that she was in love with him; but now I come to think of it there is no icular reason for so doing. She may have favored some one else before she saw either of us. Her taking him into her house was an act of gratitude; and where could he have got the money with which she paid me? By eaven! If this is only true!” The crowd had already canvassed the — cance of George’s coing, and its possible bear- ings upon Cora’s disa ce. He had gone aes and without a word of explanation to any- Tt sas su that she had ‘‘given him the sack, in a tiff” and, repenting afterward, had followed him, to recant her words. This was scouted as soon as spond, and the individual in whose fertile and romantic brain it originated pronounced ‘‘a doggauned lunatic!” That they should have eloped together was equally incredible, since there was no possible motive for such a step. ‘*No, gentlemen,” said Gra n, in his meas- ured tones. th “That Miss Preston's disappear- ange was involuntary I think is open te ne dis-
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an — : =—_——. cpa eee rt te i CT ET LIE A —————e — ‘ ‘ A Man of Nerve. ute. As to the man who is probably responsi- Bie for it, [make no charge. It is enough that you know how to treat him when found. I pro- pose that we hunt him down with bloodhounds. And now let us lose no more time.” He had the eye of an avenger as he spoke. The rude men about him paid involuntary hom- age to his stronger spirit. With much of awe they parted to let him pass. ith a directness that impressed every one he walked to Mr. Preston’s cabin. “‘He’s got his nose to the trail!” muttered one, ‘‘ And I'd rather have the devil after me!” as- serted another. “‘Look out fur these leetle cusses that wear store clo’s an’ don’t blow none. They’re greased lightin’ b’iled down, jist as like as not.” ‘“T knowed one in Sacramento city that wore kids an’ patent-leathers, and carried his argufier in his weskit pocket. But, gents, he could put a pill, no bigger’n a pea, into yer left eye ‘leven times out o’ ten, hand-runnin’.” Such were the comments that followed Gray- son. He already had Mrs. Preston, who was almost frantic with excitement, by the hand. ‘Be calm, my dear madam,” he said. “We shall be more successful in this search than in the other, depend upon it. Let me have some article of Miss Preston’s apparel. A shawl— ee will do.” light shaw] was got for him. “ And now, have you anything worn by Mr. Everett during his stay here?’ He compressed his lips, and his bitter hatred of the man made him paler, as he pronounced his name. “Here are a pair of slippers which Cora made for him during his illness.” Grayson almost staggered. He shrunk from touching those evidences of her regard for his vival, with a bitter repulsion. ‘Fetch one of them along,” he said to a man who had followed him to the house. As for the shawl, a trifle, scarcely more than a yard square, he tucked it into the breast of his coat, over his heart, thinking that it had encompassed her dear shoulders. The hounds were first set upon Cora’s trail but the scent was lost on the spat where she had met the dwarf. The elipper was then held to their nose; but they could pick up no new trail. Returning to the house, Everett’s trail was started; and soon the party was coursing across the:plains toward the foothills. The gray of the moraing was upon them when they entered the broken country. Hotly they ressed on over a devious course, nor stopped to frehk their fast, until high noon found the quarry still unstarted. The sun already hung upon the mountain- tops when the hounds gave full tongue. The hunters of human game responded with a cheer, and pressed on with renewed energy. Then there was a ringing report, the death- ery of one of the animals drowned in a clearer, more savage bay from the other, a second shot, then a third, and all was still. They found him unconscious, with his fist in the throat of a dead hound that lay upon his body. A powder-scorched wound in the side of the animal showed how he had received his death. Near by lay his companion, struggling pat mf to get upon his feet and moaning pite- ts) y- Not a trace of pity was in Ethelbert Gray- son’s face as he looked down at his fallen rival. “Tt was your turn,” he mused. “It is mine!” CHAPTER XXVIII. THE DWARF’S REVENGE. Tue dwarf was not unprepared for the step ae had taken. Since his capture of the son of his bitter enemy, the father of the woman he loved with a tenderness so strangely at vari- ance with his passion-distorted nature, he had resolved upon using her as an instrument for the fuller wreaking of his vengeance, at the same time that he gratified his love. Much of the battle was between the different characters assumed by his love with his vary- ing emotions. hen she stood before his mind in all her ethereal purity and flower-like beauty, with the winning smile that distinguished her, she | seemed a thing sacred, and his love approached adoration. t such moments he could not have harmed a hair of her head. He knew that the terror and sickening horror with which anything like lover-like approaches from him must inspire her could only add to his hellish tortures, without affording him even momen- bag? dwar eps en the pain of the thought that she must loathe him so utterly turned his love for her into a fierce resentment that partook of the nature of jealousy, and linking her with her father, he longed to annihilate them at one swoop. It was with this feeling strong upon him that he arose from his passionate grief over her un- | across his forehead. conscious form. His eyes glowed, his repulsive mouth worked with the horrible sluffing sound that indicated the climax of his fury. As he raised her in his arms and bore her to a horse which he had hitched not far distant, he might have been taken for an ogre bearing away a nymph to his repulsive feast. By midnight he had reached the cave where lay the victim of his hate. e had kept Cora unconscious by means of chloroform, and now bore her through the pas- sage in his arms, lighting his way with a torch. “What, ho! within! Awake! awake!” he cried, in mock salutation. ‘I bring you a rare guest.” A faint moaning sound, as of some. one aroused from slumber, was the only mse. Laying down his burden, the eae rolled away the stone barricade, entered the chamber and stuck the torch in a crevice in the wall. The flickering light dimly disclosed a specta- cle piteous indeed. A man reduced almost toa skeleton, his disheveled hair, matted beard and tattered clothing well in keeping, and his great, staring eyes glowed in their hollow sockets with the fires of lunacy. “Are you back again to torture me?” he asked, crouching in his bed of mountain moss, and passing his hands one over the other with a wringi g motion. “Yes,” replied the dwarf, with his accustomed fierce irony, ‘‘Iam come to regale you once more with that amusing narrative—a favorite with nae and me, you know.” “Stop! You know that I never injured you. Inever knew of your injury until you yourself told me.” ‘*‘ Bah! is innocence a plea in mitigation with either man or God? Did the fiend in the story shop to think of the innocence of the babe that smiled ae him as he reached out his hand to clutch it? Does not Heaven itself visit the sins of the father unto the children?—and for what wrong of theirs? “But I must repeat my story. You have never heard the denowment. There have been rare developments since I last saw you. Come! prick up your interest. I have a tableau in Prospers in which you are to take a leading I At @ loss to guess what was coming, yet | dreading that which could excite his tormentor to such glee, poor Mr. Preston crouched mute, watching the dwarf as he might have watched a wild animal, which he expected at any moment to spring upon him and rend his flesh. The dwarf began the tragic =ier dy of his Mie. BP nag the apartment with rapid strides where the narrative flowed steadily, bearing events of minor impo ce, but stopping before his shrinking auditor, and acting with vivid dramatic effect those terrible scenes on which had hinged his sestiny Thus he simulated the fury of the madman, as he snatched the babe from its mother’s arms and dashed it to the ground. Then the mother’s piercing scream rung through the cave; and stopping, the narrator seemed to pick the man- led little boty from the ground, while he woke he echoes of the hollow corridor with a woman’s iteous lamentations. All the endearing epithets hat a mother’s love could invent blended with bitter imprecations upon the monster who could so visit his rage upon helpless innocence. Then came the life of a man whose deformity made him a butt for the unfeeling ridicule of the mob, while compassion dropped a tear while it shrunk involuntarily away, and childhood fled in open terror. ** And you dare prate tome of innocence in bar of my revenge!” he demanded, wrought toa white heat of passion. ‘ Justice! Tll abide the justice that was meeted out to me. Tll Ra the debt, with interest for all these years of a on on earth. What was given by the ancestor I will requite to his heirs. He distorted my bod —I will wring their hearts. See! see! have not a sweet revenge?” t He rushed into the corridor, and reg tec dad with Cora in his arms laid her at her father feet. “Dead! Dead!” repeated the ent in a husky whisper; and he clutched his fingers in his hair as if to steady his brain while he grasped the thought. ‘**No! no! Alive! alive! Do you understand all that that signifies?” cried the dwarf. The father looked up and his hand hen, with no warning save a scream of maniac fury, he leaped at the | dwart’s throat. oa CHAPTER XXIX. THE REQUITAL OF HEAVEN. THe dwarf had ploated upon the pain of the unhappy parent with the relish of a malignant ghow rubbing his hands and laughing with endish glee, and mumbling to himself: ‘*Ha! revenge!—ha! ha!—sweet revenge!” When Mr. Preston sprung at his throat, Cali- ban struck him a blow fairly between the eyes which hurled him upon his back beside his daughter, where he lay as still as she, oo em > The dwarf screamed with laughter as he eon- templated the effect of his blow. “ soft!” he muttered. ‘‘They must have consciousness. Fools torture the body—I would wring the soul!” Hie dashed water in their faces and watched e effect. The drug which bound Cora’s senses had been dissipating for hours. She was the first to show igns.of returning animation. dwarf withdrew into the shadow, with a feeling of awe upon him. pened her eyes, looked dreamily The girl o about, and with a start and a gasp arose toa sittin, re, her back towards her father. No but the smoking torch and the dingy walls of the cavern met her vision. She cowered and trembled. Too much terrified to move or make an audi- ble sound, she listened for the indication of some other living presence. All was as still as if she were in a tomb, She looked down at her trembling hands, and then her eyes wandered over her dress. Beside her she saw— “ Ou }? Her scream penetrated every recess of the cavern, and startled into responsive cries the thowend echoes that lurked in the dark corri- ors. She had seen but the foot of a man’s boot. With a bound she reached the furthest walls of the cave, and crouching there looked back. She saw an old man in rags, stretched at _— on his back, apparently dead. @ covered her face with her hands, and shudders ran through her frame in rapid suc. cession. ins Presently she was calmer and could lool again; yet her blood ran cold at the thought ot being in that gloomy vault alone with the dead perhaps. y , The figure ofthe old man, lying so still exer; cised a strange fascination upon her. Tearfully she my forward, until she could see the ema, ciated face. A gasping start, with her hand pressed over her heart, and she took several rapid steps for: ward and knelt at his side, An instant later and she had his head upon her bosom and was crying: , Papa! Papa! Oh, my darling papa!” The Prst instinct. was to rain tears and kisses upon his face, while she bemoaned him as on4 dead—dead by that awful death, starvation! The next thought was to go for assistance, There might yet be some breath of life. Sha against hope. the agony: of seeing him thus she never stopped to think how she had been brought to him. The memory of her meeting with the dwarf was meidents:peoatied to her mind by i im appear before her, as she arose to seek some exit to the outer air. He stood hat in hand, with bowed head. In his ugliness he might have been taken for the conjuration of some hashish-distempered brain of Orient—the genius of some Arabian tale. The girl started back, as if for the protection of her unconscious father. But the dwarf’s at- titude of humility reassured her. He did not offer to. harm her; he, evidently, had brought her here to her father, perhaps to save him, or, at his request, to see him before he died. He must be a friend to her parent. In that case he would help her. ‘Who are you, sir?’ she ventured. “What you see—a human toad—a turtle—a monster of deformity!” replied the dwarf, with his wonted bitterness, “And you have brought me here to my fa- ther. You are his friend?” “‘Towe him a debt—a great debt!” There was something in the biting cynicism of this man which made the girl shrink from him. She thought that he acknowledged his gratitude with a sneer. ‘*Oh, sir! is he dead?” was her next question. “No. . The mercy of death is denied to more than one-who would hail it as a boon. I could not let him die,” She did not understand him. She thought that he made reference to his own unhappy con: dition and to his debt of gratitude. “Then help. me to restore him,” she cried. ‘* Where can we get assistance?” ‘‘ None is nece: . He willrecover in a mo ment, if you chafe his hands, You see but the effects of a shock.” His tones were cold, Teer, filled the girl with a vague apprehension. Why did he make no attempt to revive her nt Mechanically she upon the dwarf’s sug- gestion. Mr. Preston revived and clasped her in his arms.. .. ie ve darling! Oh, my poor darling!” he mur- m I She saw the terror with which he looked at the dwarf, and held her as if to protect her from him. She followed the direction of his eyes, and saw a look on the face of the dwarf that chilled her to the soul. He was gloating upon his victims with eager eyes, whose burning intensity seemed
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to aevour them. His hands were clutching and tearing at each other. Foam stood on his lips, and his mouth went: “*Sluff! sluff ! sluff !” a ‘*Ha! ha! ha! ha-a-a!” he laughed, in fiend- ish glee. ap “Oh, papa!’ whispered the. girl, shrinking ‘“Now for the rest of my story!” cried the dwarf. ‘‘Chance threw in the way of the fiend a peri, an angel, the descendant of the man to whom he owed so great a debt of gratitude. Heaven—that rains so many blessings upon us— gave to this thing—this human lizard—the gra- cious boon of love for its fairest handiwork. This precious love—oh, how fit a thing to come to him!—him from whom the very stones turn with horror and disgust!—this beautiful love that suggested the means to the only revenge in aught adequate to his giant wrong. ; “Hal ha! Giveher tome! Give her to me! She is my revenge, and at the same time the re- quital of a Heaven that metes out to us our blessings with even-handed justice. To the rich, a lazar at the gate; to the great, a sycopbhank - close in his arms. treachery; to the wise, idiotic offspring or im- becile old age; to the monster, the sylph! Give her to me, say! She is the requital of Heaven! Ha! ha! ha!” And clutching the father by the throat, and encircling the waist of the daughter with his arm, the dwarf fiend tore those helpless ones: asunder. CHAPTER XXX. A DUEL. ‘*Hr’s cl’ar grit,” was the comment of one of the men who gathered about George Everett. All the others seemed similarly impressed. It was a point in his favor. ‘‘Restore him to consciousness,” said Gray- son, quietly,” and we may be able to make him tell us what he has done with Miss Preston.” His icy tones recalled them to the fact that the man before them must be viewed in_the light of anenemy. In co uence, they, han- ed him more roughly then they might other- wise have done, - In falling his head had come in contact witha stone. It was an ugly bump, and when he opened his eyes his senses were still wool-gather- ing. Eh? What's the matter, fellows?” he asked, rubbing his head in bewilderment. “George Everett,” said Grayson, sternly, his features twitching with emotion as he spoke,” we have tracked you to learn what you have done with Miss Preston.” : ” The pen e his wie toe Cora’s mene on his s rec eorge toclearer perception. Mt What is Miss Preston to you?’ he asked, rising to his feet. Then, seeing the dead hound and the aormering looks of the men who surrounded him, he ad- dressed them: 7 : “Gentlemen, what is the meaning of this? Did those hounds come upon me accidentally, or have I been hunted down at the instigation of this—this gentleman? And if you are all in the enterprise, as your looks seem to indicate, poe that you have me, what do you propose to 0 “T reckon thar hain’t no mistake about this hyer deal,” muttered one, sullenly. : ‘‘Nary mistake! Hoss, you better b’lieve we know what we’re up to.” ot “T reckon we'll peel the bark off 0’ you be- saree aby phi! with ye!” PN eee ir,” said Grayson, peremp y e nothing to be gained by dissembling. We de- mand Miss Preston.” “And right smart too, boss.” “Trot ’er out, you scalwegian, or we'll make mince-meat o’ you in quick time.” _ ; Everett turned upon Grayson with flashing yes. : “This is a very strange proceeding, Mr. Gray- son,” he said. ‘‘T crag. knew that you were a knave, but I confess I was not prepared for uite such a brigandish assault. Judging from the fellows you have in your employ, you are playing a very bold game—” . “Stow yer chin-music! Whar have you hid the gal? that’s what we want to know.” ‘‘ And what we’re bound to know, for rocks!” ‘““Where have you taken Miss Preston?” per- sisted Grayson. Everett stared at them eg ve § ‘‘Where have I hidden her?’ he repeated. “Why, what are you talking about?” ‘“Whelt the face off the beggarly hypocrite! Bad scan to his innocent looks! n “A taste of a rope-end will brighten his wits.” “Mr. Everett,” said an honest fellow, “ you might ’a’ known that no Denver crowd would let you git away with Miss Preston. Perhaps it’ll go easier with you if you give her up peace- ably. But yout can’t fool us— “Bristow,” said Everett, anxionay aking the man by the arm, “ what does all this mean What has happened to Miss Preston?—for I fear something is the matter. But I have not seen her since yesterday morning when I left her at her own door,” 8 re A Man of Nerve. A7 ™ “Knock that lie back into his throat!” cried a miner seandie Dear. Like a flash Everett’s fist shot from the shoul- der, and the libelous individual ‘‘ went to grass.” This act was followed by a very decided de- monstration of hostilities on the part of che mob; but George placed himself with his back toa tree, and faced them with drawn pistols. ‘“Gentlemen,” he said, ‘‘there is evidently some mistake here; and while we are trying to find out what it is we might as well treat each other courteously.” A cold chill ran through Grayson. Had he made a mistake? Was there, after all, no quar- rel between the lovers, and therefore no motive for George’s abducting Cora? It was a crazy apa, almost improbable thing, come to think of it. ‘Now, Mr. Bristow,” pursued George, ‘ will | he oblige me by a clear statement of why Iam unted down by hounds and a mob?” “Last night Miss Preston disappeared from her home, and as there was something kind o’ | suddent and queer about your leaving the house, and this coming so soon thar was some as thought it looked as if you had spirited her off.” ** And this villain is at the head of the move- ment!” said George, turning with flashing eyes upon Grayson, ‘Gently, sir, gently!” said Grayson, with un- ruffled self-possession. ‘‘ At the proper time I shall call you to an account for those words. Just now we are to treat each other with court- esy, Yas know. If there isany mistake—” ‘Gentlemen, there is no mistake,” said George, confidently, ‘‘but a deliberate plot. If Miss Preston has aay. amma from her home, depend upon it this gentleman is at the bottom of it. I am the plighted husband of the lady. I left her yeah A morning to come in search of her ather, with her promise to marry me immedi- ately upon his recovery.. What motive had I to take such a senseless step as to carry her off when she was already mine? ‘* On the other hand, you know of this gentle- man’s frequent visits at her house and their sud- den discontinuance. It is fair to assume that she rejected his suit, though she never told me, and I never asked her. ou see the effect upon him. He is the ghost of his former self. Doesn’t he look like a desperate man? Assume that he has determined have her, and what more natural than that he should try to secure my death by those hounds, and divert suspicion from himself b purring it upon me?” His rapid poe Cota its effect. The crowd looked to Grayson for a reply. He was ready. “Gentlemen,” he said, “this counter charge is without a shadow of foundation. I know no more of Miss Preston’s whereabouts than an one of you. More than one can testify that was at the hotel from supper-time until we were informed of Miss Preston’s disappearance. Then how could I have had a hand in it?” “By proxy!” cried George, promptly. “Money employs assassins. Will it not secure abductors? And why were you at the hotel at this particular time, unless to screen yourself more effectually from suspicion? Is it your cus- tom to spend your evenings at the hotel? I jenye the question for those who frequent the place. “No,” said one who was in the habit of spend- ing his evenings in the hotel bar. e crowd was visibly affected, unfavorably to Grayson. “Mr. Ethelbert Grayson,” pursued George, him no time to k, “I have long own that the hostility between us could never be settled except at the mouth of the revolver. If you are not a coward, as well, as a knave, face me like a man at twenty paces.” “Nothing will please me better,” said Gray- son, without hesitation. ‘‘I have come pre- pared for this. If you please, we will fight like gentlemen, and,not in the rude hit-or-miss way of this country. Ihave a pair of fine dueling pistols in my saddle- PY] ‘As you wish,” said George, feeling, how- ever, that Grayson was trying to take an unfair advantage of him by introducing unaccustomed weapons. Soon they were placed back to back, to turn at the word three, advance and fire whenever the chose. P rge’s second gave the signal: “One !—two /—THREE!”” The combatants turned, and both advanced. Suddenly George stopped, and his arm flew up bringing his weapon ona Jine with his an- tagonist’s heart. ut Grayson was even quicker, spoke, George’s was silent. The arms of both men dropped to their sides, and they stood facing each other. ** Not a scratch!” cried one of the crowd. “ Ha! see! Everett is hit!” His weapon It was true. rge swayed unsteadily for a moment and placed his left hand over his heart. Then he drew himself up. His eyes flashed. His lips curled in a smile of triumph. Deliberately he walked forward, until when he raised his pistol again, its muzzle was not a foot from Grayson’s face, Grayson never moved a muscle of face or form, but looked straight down the tube. The mob was breathless. ‘* What have you done, or caused to be done, with Miss Preston?” asked George, in a clear, incisive tone. Grayson said not a word. George waited perhaps ten seconds, and ther id: “Tf you have any preparation for deat, make it!” Still Grayson never moved. “Hold on, gents; this hyer’s murder!” cried a voice. ‘* Not much!” was the prompt reply. “Turn and turn about. That’s square. One has bad his shot. Now I call:—‘ Next!’” Neither of the contestants paid any heed to this interruption. But another came frcm an unexpected quar- ter. There was the sound of flying feet and a voice raised in an articulate cry. Not even hearing it, in his excitement, the hard lines came into George Everett’s face. Every one was confident that Grayson’s time was come, There was an evident struggle, but the vision of Cora’s horrified face flitted before his imagi- nation, and he raised his weapon and deliber- ately shot into the air. Scarcely an instant later there was a flutter of loose garments, and a flying figure between the contestants, precipitated upon Ethelbert Grayson’s breast the arms closing tightly about his neck. George Everett’s first sensation was as if the world had suddenly dropped from beneath his feet. The one word that thrilled through heart and brain died upon his lips— “c Cora?’ CHAPTER XXXII. LOVE CONQUERS HATE. Cora PRESTON did not faint. Her solicitude for her father steadied her reeling brain. ‘Now for the fullness of my revenge!” cried the dwarf, thrusting her from him, and seizing upon her father. It was the work of a moment to bind him se- curely. Then into apile of fagots lying near he thrust a burning brand. ‘‘Our nuptials shall be celebrated with bon- fires, if not with ringing bells,” he laughed. *‘A human sacrifice to propitiate the gods We have need of it at such a monstrous wed- ding.” He began to drag Mr. Preston toward the firo, ere Cora divined his purpose. Then she threw herself upon her knees and clung to her parest in a desperate embrace, while she pleaded: ‘*Oh, spare him! spare him! Surely, he h,:s never harmed you.” Her tearful eyes, her quivering lips, mov j the dwarf. He stopped and passed his han jl before his eyes, as if struggling with a mighty passion. The girl saw the effect of her words, anl urged eagerly: ‘Do what you will with me, but do not, do not harm him!” The dwarf caught at this idea. “Do what I will with you?’ repeated he looking at her with wolfish eyes. Cora shrunk away in shuddering horror. ‘“*T will grant your request on one condition," said the dwarf, panting with eagerness. The girl waited with distended eyes anw shrinking form. “That you will yield yourself up to me with- out resistance!” Cora could not restrain the ejaculation of loathing with which she hid her face in her father’s neck. A cry of pain escaped the dwarf. He threw himself upon his knees and extended his clasped hands, as he pleaded: “Oh, God! Ilove you! Touch but my hand, only smile upon me, and I will not raise a finger against you or yours.” n his misery he attempted to touch her hand with his lips. With a revulsion of feeling which would not be controlled, she sprung away with a cry. The sudden storm of fury that seized the dwarf at this found expression in his sharp ejaculation: “ Han !” ~ With one sweep of his arm he caught Mr. Preston from the ground and held him over the blazing pile. The wretched man made no effort to save himself. The shock of the past half-hour had converted him into a weeping imbecile. With a scream Cora realized his danger. _ “Twill! I will!” she cried, frantically, rush- ing forward. ‘Swear it?’ commanded the dwarf. “Yes! yes!” “ Then he must not remain in m Having him near me, I should go mad.’ He tore her father from Cora’s clinging hands, and rushed with him along the ebiieigor to the sight. outer chamber, and on to the outside world. There he set him upon his feet and*cried;
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is wu again, or I may forget my pledge.” Mr.’ Preston’s eakiied’ “ecollection of hisdaughter. Theunaccustomed sinlight dazzled him. He crouched on the | scound and whined piteously. ‘““Gol!l gol” hissed the dwarf, and clutching sim by the arm, forced him several steps from «ie mouth of the cave. The imbecile seemed gradually to realize that ‘o was free; and when the dwarf let go hisarm to sneaked off looking behind him at almost very step, to see if he was followed. With his hands to his head the dwarf retraced his steps. Just where he had left her he found Cora ly- sia i and still on the ground. e did not offer to touch her, byt stood look- ing down upon her, until his eyes welled witb tears, and great sobs shook his distorted frame. ‘Great God! it cannot be!” he moaned. “I have never shown merey to anything in the shape of man—I have had little merey from them. But, fiend though I am, I cannot harm her.” So love waged war against itself, until the dwarf fled from the sight that crazed him. Out among the debris of a convulsed world, fit emblem of the mighty strife waging in his breast, he wandered, while in bees abode jay the fair girl who had rou those giant passions to battle, How long she lay she knew not; but finally youthful vitality asserted itself, and she awoke. With tottering limbs she sought for some avenue of escape, but found herself securely im- prisoned. In that awful solitude she felt as if she must go distracted, when suddenly she heard a step in the corridor, a light appeared through the chinks around the bowlder which obstructed the opening, and some one was evidently at work removing it, : Cora crouched against the furthest wall and ee It was the most terrible moment of er life. CHAPTER XXXII. INDIAN GRATITUDE Us. INDIAN HATE. WHEN the bowlder rolled back, Cora experi- enced a sense of relief that amounted to faint- ness. Instead of the hideous dwarf, his beauti- ful daughter stood revealed. With 9 cry of delight, Cora sprung forward. ‘*Oh, Wa-he-ta! I am so glad you have come. {you assist—” “Back!” commanded the Indian girl, and rust her torch, almost into Cora’s face. The latter started back in dismay. ‘“What do you mean?’ she asked, ‘ Will you ag help me to get out of this terrible place ‘*The Lily goes not out alive!” said Wa-he-ta, geri ‘What is the matter? Why do you wish to detain me?’ ‘“Wa-he-ta is not a fool, that she should not know why the Lily is here.’ ‘* But I was brought’ here against my will, by * hideous dwarf.” ‘You are here because the Morning Sun will- 1.1 it. But when he comes to find you, he will »e that Wa-he-ta knew-how to be avenged.” As she spoke, the Indian girl threw her torch ‘side and drew her cones: ‘*Come!” she said, ‘‘ the Lily must die.” “Stand out of my path!” commanded Cora, enperiously. She was pale to the lips. But now it was euly woman against woman, and she did not jurpose to ye d up her life to the savage jeal- wusy of this ian girl without a struggle. a-he-ta smiled scornfully. What opposition could this white squaw make to her lithe activ- ity, trained in the open mountain air? “The Lily is in my path,” she said, fiercely. “ My hand 1 stain her white breast with red blood. She advanced to put her threat into execu- tion. Cora sprung for the torch which the Indian girl had thrown aside, to use it as a means of defense. Like a cat Wa-he-ta was upon her, and held her by the throat as she lay on the ground. Cora saw the gleam of the uplifted knife, and felt that she was powerless to avert her fate. At the critical moment, when she had nerved her arm for the blow, Wa-he-ta started. Her eye had fallen upon an oddly shaped shell at- ‘ached to a ribbon, which had slipped from (! ra’s bosom, ‘* What is this?” she asked, releasing po? ok {vat and taking the shellin her hand. ‘‘ Where ‘ud the Lily get the medicine shell?’ Cora was surprised at the sudden interest be- trayed by the Indian girl. Her qnestions re- callec to mind the words of her father when he put it about her neck. F a wear it, my pet. If you are ever exposed danger from the Indians, it may ph your life and procure your restoration to iberty. To the Indian gir! she replied: “ My father gave it to me. he saved.” Wa-he-ta arose and began to pace the cave. Her features worked spasmodically. She was evidently going through a fierce struggle. Cora waited, wondering at the power exer- _ cised over the girl by the shell. | Presently Wa-he-ta came and stood before her, with eyes on the ground. ‘* Your father saved Wa-he-ta’s life,” she said ; “her hand cannot take your life.” “And you will save me?” cried Cora, spring- ing forward to take Wa-he-ta’s hand. “Do not touch me!” cried the Indian girl, fiercely, springing back, to avoid contact with one whom she hated none the less because she owed her a debt of gratitude. ** At least you will not prevent my escape from this place?” ‘‘ Promise me that you will never again sing in the ears of Sa-lo-wa-no.” ‘* But, Wa-he-ta, I never tried to win him from you,” urged Cora, and then flushed at the thought that perhaps all her acts had hardly been in keeping with her avowal. ‘*Promise!” repeated Wa-he-ta, with an im- patient frown. She was plainly not disposed to argue the matter. ‘*T promise, then,” said Cora. ** Come!” Without a further word the Indian girl turn- ed to leave the cave, having first reignited the torch with which:she had entered it. Gladly Cora followed her. Once more she saw the glad light of heaven and inhaled the balsam-laden breeze! She was about to thank her deliverer, when she saw Wa-he-ta suddenly start, with a low ejaculation. The Indian girl crouched down and glided away so suddenly that she seemed almost to have sunk into the ground. While Cora stood in wonder, she heard a low chuckle behind her, and before she could turn a hand was laid on her wrist. **So my pretty bird, qos have found your way out of your cage. I thought I had housed you securely.” Cora turned sick. She was again a prisoner in the hands of the dwarf. He had come just in time to intercept her flight. Wa-he-ta’s quick ear had detected the snap- ping of a twig which warned her of the approach of some one; and she had slipped away without detection. The dwarf supposed that in his excitement he had left the bowlder insecure, and that Cora had forced it back unaided. ‘Tf you will precede me you will obviate the necessity of my ca ry ” he said. And nothing but this f ought enabled her to totter back into the cave, where she sunk to the ground in abject despair, Wa-he-ta had followed the dwarf and his ca tive; running at the top of her speed across the prairie to keep up with his horse. Only Indian endurance, stimulated by a pertinacious p of revenge, could have enabled her to perform the feat she accomplished that night. But the edge of Indian hate had been turned by Indian gratitude. It had saved Cora’s life. ould it cause Wa-he-ta to take one step more? Would she betray Cora’s place of confinement and secure her release? Her jealousy might supply another motive, since she had fallen into the mistake that Cora was held captive by Grayson’s orders. As for betraying her father to the fury of the mob, his coming between her and her revenge and threatening her life had aroused active hos- tility between them, even if she had ever felt any affection for the ill-shaped being who had been to her a father in little else than in name, So let the battle of these wild patures go on. Perhaps they will work out the ‘good of those most deserving. The dwarf had been in the‘eave but a moment when he started and stared at the floor with a sharp ejaculation. CHAPTER XXXIII. WHO WINS? Wr have said that George Everett sustained a great shock at the interruption of the duel. ' It was because his mind was so engrossed with Cora, that at the first glance he only realized that it was a female figure precipitated upon the breast of his antagonist, and jumped to the conclusion that it was Cora interposing her body to save Grayson. The next second he almost smiled at his mis- take, when he saw Grayson nearly thrown from his feet by the impetus of Wa-he-ta’s body. Still clinging to Grayson, the Indian girl turned upon his opponent with flashing eyes. “Stop!” she cried. ‘“‘Why would fpr shoot Sa-lo-wa-no? He knows no more of the Lily than do you.” ‘*Wa-he-ta,” said Everett, eagerly, “what do you know of Miss Preston?’ Has she been car- ried off against her will?” “cc Yes. ” “By whom?” It was a present / “Not by Sa-lo-wa no.” ee re | “ But by his wish?” “cc No ” . Wa-he-ta lied. without hesitation. She bs aig that Grayson had procured Cora’s abdue on, “By whom, then?” “T cannot tell you.” “Cannot tell? And why, pray?” “Enough, she is safe. I can tell you 1. more.” ‘And do you think that I will be satisfied \s* the simple assurance that she is safe?” Wa-he-ta drew herself up proudly. “And what will you do about it?” she aske¢ ““Compel you to tell me where she is.” The Indian girl’s lip curled. “By holding you and this gentleman, wi whom you seem to be so intimate, as security, concluded Everett. Grayson had been as much surprised as anj one else at the er tthe appearance of Wa. he-ta. Notwithstanding her evident purpose ti save his life, even at the expense of her own, if necessary, he was not at all pleased at he! lover-like way of doing it, before such a crowd, and especially before Cora’s lover. His first ac was to repulse her, assuming a look of surpris , as if she cook been a stranger to him. Stung to the heart, the girl never wavered ie her devotion. At the threat of holding him, sk¢ changed her manner. “Go home,” she said. ‘You will find the Lily there before you.” **And how about her abductor?’ persisted George. He had little inclination to submit to such ar outrage rayne ‘Be satisfied that you get her back,” said the Indian girl. “It was my hand that released her, Ask no more of me, “That’s square,” cried a voice whose possesso” had little sympathy with George Everett. Many other honest fellows believed Wa-he-ta, and since she had restored the girl, they thought it nothing more than fair that, if she had per- sonal reasons for wishing to screen the abduct- or, she had earned the right to indulgence. in hau hty silence Grayson was about to turt. away, when George Everett’s voice interposed. “Wait,” he said. ‘‘When we have seen Miss Preston, if she exonerates you, you are free, ‘‘Gentlemen,” said Grayson, addressing the mob, “I confess that matters seem to me to have taken a strange turn. I came out with in to help rescue the lady, and I find myself eld to aecount for her by the very man whom we all suspected. Granted that we were mis taken, I do not see how thatimplicatesme. No, Mr. Everett, I do not recognize your Barely to hold me a prisoner. If you think you can de it by individual force of arms, you are welcoms to Oe “Knough’s enough!” yelled a voice. “| reckon we've got evidence that clears Mr, Grayson. I go my pile on fair play all round, and 1 kin back it with lead and steel.” **Gentlemen, I leave it to you,” said Everete “How many are in favor of letting this gent/n man go?” ; The majority was decided, and Everem bowed compliance. Turning to address Wa-he-ta, he discovere? that she had slipped away. ‘ Not feeling very well satisfied, he set out for ome. But beter they got out of the mountain country, they found what they had so long looked for in vain—Mr. Preston. Meanwhile Ethelbert Grayson had set out by himself, and fortune had turned his steps :@ that he came upon Wa-he-ta, crouching on t) ¢ ground and weeping. At the sound of his footstep she arose aiid stood before him with bound head. Her hes v- ing bosom showed that she could not altogether conquer her emotion. ‘“Wa-he-ta,” he asked, ‘‘ who stole Miss Pres ton from her home?” ke Indian girl’s eyes flashed upon him indig nantly. ‘“Wa-he-ta’s tongue was crooked to save Sa: lo-wa-no’s life, because she loved him better than she loved the truth,” she said, haughtily; ‘* but do not mock her now.” “But I did not abduct the girl. seen her, you must know that.” ‘No, but Sa-lo-wa-no’s will works through other hands,” said Wa-he-ta, sadly. “*T tell you I know nothing about her abdéwc- tion or her abductor. Who is he?’ e girl started. ‘Did, not Sa-lo-wa-no order the Turtle te steal i the Lily?” ta) “ If you have “Ts Sa-lo-wa-no’s tongue straight?” *T swear to it, Wa-he-ta.” “Then why did the Turtle take her from he: home?’ ** By Heaven! I have it,” cried Grayson, and burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. Wa-he-ta looked puzzled. “The Turtle was in love with the Lily. And the infernal rascal has proved treacherous to me to accomplish his own purposes. Love has conquered fear.” ————
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QS eooeooeoeeesswweeeaeaeaeaee dy A Man of Nerve. Wa-he-ta looked incredulous. “The toad does not mate with the flower,” she said. ; ‘Not as a general thing; but in this case he has attempted it.” P ‘“« And it was not Sa-lo-wa-no’s will?” ** Once more, no,” ; The girl’s heart began to swell. Might he still love her? ‘“ Where is Miss Preston? Did you really free her from Caliban?” asked Grayson. ‘‘ No,” said the girl. ‘But I could see no other way to save your life, than by telling Everett that she was at home.” ‘““Do you know where she is? Take me to her!” The girl looked at him wpe meg ““Oh, you need not be afraid that I care for her,” said Grayson. : prefers another, and I wish him luck of her.’ Grayson only laughed. “ And you will not forget Wa-he-ta, when the | ness. | our ears?” pale-face squaw sings in er at once.” ‘“Oh, no. Lead me to The girl complied. : The dwarf had detected traces of Wa-he-ta’s resence on the floor of the cavern. Question- ing Cora was needless. He understood her es- cape from the cave, is first step was to go out of the cave and reconnoiter the vicinity of its mouth. He was determined to remove Cora from the cave, and he did not wish to be again tracked. But Wa-he-ta had heard the hounds and their death-shots at no great distance, and gone to learn their significance, in time to interfere in the duel. Returning to the cave, the dwarf was making his way with Cora again toward the outer world, when at the mouth of the cave he came face to face with his master. Both stopped and looked at each other. It was a critical moment. Would the invisible power of the master be adequate to make the slave yee at the very moment of triumphant revolt? Could he snatch the meat from beneath the lion’s paw? CHAPTER XXXIV. THE WORM TURNS. Or course Cora knew nothing of the rel ations between the dwarf and his master. Out of titude Wa-he-ta had undertaken to rescue er, and failed. Now she appeared again, ac- companied by a man—as Cora pe one assis- tance competent to cope with'the dwarf. Seeing in Ethelbert a rescuer and an old friend whom she had never ceased to esteem, though she could not love him, she sprung toward him with a cry, extending her ds, as was natural. “Oh, Mr. Grayson!” was all that she said. It was natural that she should shrink to his side; and when he put his arm about her she thought only of his extended protection. Gray- son, too, saw and understood. It was some- thing to him, loving her as he did, to feel her cling to him, though he could nét cheat himself into a misinterpretation of her feelings. But there were two others who only saw a beautiful woman spring into the arms extended to receive her. Wa-he-ta ped, and clutching her dagger, seemed about to plunge it into her rival. The dwarf t his hand before his eyes and Staggered In that moment a thought of bitterness took precedence of even anger, at being thwarted. f “ How she leaps to the embrace of this young Apollo!” he mused. ‘‘ The fiend’s curse upon the hand that robbed me of the semblance of man!” Meanwhile a sudden change had come over Grayson. A thought flashed through his mind that blanched his face to the lips. A deadly faintness seized him as the blood crowded upon his heart: then a great wave throbbed through every vein, and his eyes flashed. The thought was: “‘T have her away from all the world. Why give her k?” N His words showed that his purpose was fixed in an instant. y “Thank you, Caliban,” he said. ‘‘ You have anticipated my wishes. Let us return to the cave,’ It was the ‘‘cool hand” again. As he advanc- ed with an assured step, the dwarf yielded from force of habit. The critical moment was past. The master won once more. Cora’s surprise was unbounded. ‘ tog you know this terrible creature?’ she asked, “Oh ” replied Grayson, lightly. ‘ There is not fe waey terrible about him, I assure you. A fearful, undefined apprehension seized the rl. Mechanically, and with her thoughts busy ng to learn why she felt so benumbed, she r. = Who is hee” ‘‘ She has told me that she | ence to myself?” asked Cora. aa ee naa ‘ | where I can see it constantly before me, by | looking across the table.” “My servant.” | Witha rasping, tearing snarl, the long-pent Grayson spoke as though it were a matter of | fury of the dwarf fiend burst forth. course. rayson saw coming doom in the bloodshot There was a dead silence, while the girl’s eyes that seemed to dart living flame—in the blood seemed distilled through her veinsin beads | foam-flecked lips, drawn back from teeth like of ice. | fangs—in the fingers, crooked like the talons of | some bird of prey. Again his pistol spoke; and the ball took ef- fect in the misshapen trunk of the human mo*- ster, for he uttered a scream like a wild anim 11 wounded to the death. But it did not cheek b's terrible onset. The next instant Ethelbert Grayson was down on his back, with those claw-like fingers clutch- ing his throat, and alternately raising his head and dashing it against the rocky floor of the cavern; while the dwarf fiend, free at last from the strange thralldom in which he had been held, gibed in maniac glee, and all the while his lips, dripping blood-crimsoned foam, went, * their horrible fashion: Sluf! sluff! sluff ! CHAPTER XXXV. AN INDIAN GIRL’S DEVOTION. THERE was a rush of hurried feet through tix 3 = ° —] g ct. i" ® ow é. i=] ° Fr ct =a = 4. ° r fe) a 4o} o ct 3 *€ Oh, no. assure It was not of my contriving, I ou, or I should not have staid from your side so long. When you disappeared, no one was more surprised or pained than I. if I mistake not, I am reaping Caliban’s harvest. It isnot the first time—eh, Cal?” _ “No, it is not the first time,” said the dwarf, in a way that would have made most men nervous. Saeyron only laughed. ““And may I know your purpose with refer- Her great peril—she dreaded Grayson, even more than the dwarf, if possible—gave her cool- “‘ Allis said in the words—Z love you !” replied | Grayson. His manner left nothing for further inquiry. “Fetch us wine, Cal, if you have such a thing asacellarin this hole in the hill,” said Gray- | darkened passage, and voices calling to one ar son, as though he were in his own house. | other. Then George Everett followed by Mx. From a niche in the wall Caliban procured | Preston and a crowd of men, burst into the food which he had prepared for his own susten- ance and Cora’s, and wine, too, of the best pro- curable in Denver, and placed them on a flat tended her arms to him mutely. He sprung stone. | forward and caught her to his breast, when she ‘Come, let’s have no long faces,” said Gray- | fainted dead away. son. ‘Kat, drink, and be merry. Sit youon | But she was safe, now—oh, she was safe! my right hand, Miss Cora. You, Miss Wa-he-ta, | What danger could find her out on his stout. on my left. Cal, put your handsome presence heart? Strong hands sought to tear the dwarf fiend | from his prey; but_it was found impossible. A nervous abandon was taking possession of | His fingers were locked about the throat they him. Cora saw in him a man given over todes- | clasped with the vise-like gripe of a drowning peration. The others knew not what to make man. He took no cognizance of the men who of this strange mood. , surrounded him with horrified faces, and sought Wa-he-ta came from the corner where she had | to stay his terrible work. As long as life lasted been crouching, and took the place assigned her. | the muscles of his arms relaxed and contracted, Her eyes wandered from Grayson to Cora and | shaking back and forth the head of his victim. k again. She looked as if she had been | When both were dead his gripe did not relax. struck dumb. So perished a moral monster with a fair body, The dwarf slunk to his place with his eyes on | and a physical monster with a soul not wholi the ground. _ devoid of that tenderness and love which lin Cora yielded compliance to the whim of her | humanity with its God. Who shall say what captor use she feared to precipitate his even the dwarf fiend might have been, sur- r. | rounded by the influences and cherished by the it wasa strange feast. Each ate and drank ties that other men hold lightly, not knowing by erection; save that Grayson was his own , their value. master drank as if he were trying to| But another seene was to be enacted. Those! ae the fire that had seized upon heart and rude men were thrilled by a spectacle not every! rain. Wildly his laugh ir forth at the ridiculous | day witnessed. spectacle nted by his reluctant guests Ke Drink! ‘3 ah ile they were still looking with scarcely ! Segre shudders at the two figures so terribly drink! my “gs to the health of | lin my young bride!” he cri And the dwarf ed together in death, some one uttered a drank, as if the wine were sudden cry. Following the direction of his eyes, they all saw it, and grew pale. liquid fire, never raising his eyes, and choking |_ The Indian girl, with the blood trickling fron at every swallow. To make the draught more gel Grayson her bosom, was creeping on hands and knees across the floor of the cavern. Her destination a the liquors, and drained glass after glass. Cora thought herself in the presence of a was evident. Her eyes were fixed upon Ethel- bert Grayson’s face. She was holding death ut arm’s length by the power of her great love uw maniac, She drank because she dared not re- | til she should get to him. fuse. Her only hope was that excitement would prevent the unaccustomed poison from g the tee over her senses, or that d yiel “Stand aside, men, for God’s sake! interfere with her!” cried a voice. rayson woul to stupor before she had succumbed And all shrunk back, oe her path clear She gained his side, and with her weak hand: But suddenly Grayson’s mania took a turn that filled her with horror. sought to take the dwarf’s fingers from his throat. Then she looked at the men, with an ** Look a them, my love!” he cried, bursting with laughter. ‘“ Aren’t they a gentle pair? inarticulate, sobbing murmur on her lips. **Oh, God!” said an awe-struck voice, and al Cal there loves you and hates me, while the eyes of the fair Wa-he-ta show that it isa de- turned their faces away from the piteous spec- tacle. batable question which would afford her greater satisfaction, to embrace me or strangle you. Let us have rare sport. They shall witness our blandishments.. Sweet Cora, I am your own true knight!” _ He sought to caress her, but with an ejacula- tion of terror the girl jumped to her feet and sped to the furthest wall. Blending a hiccough with a laugh, he rose to | follow her; but bis steps were unsteady, and she crate him, and ran screaming about the apart- ment. Tortured beyond endurance by savage jeal- | apartment. From her knees Cora saw her lover, and eX- Do net The girl seemed to realize their helplessness, and a tear of resignation fell from her eyes upon the suffocation-discolored face of the man she had loved with a devotion akin to worship. With her arms fast palsying in death she clasped his body to her fait heart; and so, , her cheek to his, her life exhaled, with every breath a mute whisper of forgiving love. In the Great Award, does such love count for nothing with a God whose name is Love? Cora Preston’s first disa) cé was due to her own father. In his half-demented state, he had overheard a conversation between the ousy, the Indian girl leaped to her feet, and with | dwarf and his cat’s-paw, Bradley, and under- drawn dagger rushed upon her rival. stood just enough to know that she was in dan- Cora’s peril partly scleral Grayson. He was | ger. Mistaking George Everett for one of not near enough to prevent the tragedy in any | the conspirators, he had shot him and carried other way. Without a moment’s hesitation he | off Cora. He had left her on the open prairie, drew a pistol and fired. _ to return for his wife, which had been prevent- Wa-he-ta sunk at Cora’s feet. ed by the dwarf stunning and robbing him. Even this could not dissuade Grayson from This explanation was reached only many his purpose. Asif nothing had happened, he months later, when his mind ually regained in approached the shrinking girl. | its tone under the gentle ministrations of his Wild with fear she rushed to the dwarf, and daughter. Then too he revealed the location of sinking upon her knees at his feet, she cried: the secret cache of the gold he had accumu- ‘‘ Save me! oh, save me!” lated, and yielded up his rich claim in Pike’s The dwarf had seen his child shot down by | Peak to his son-in-law George Preston. the hand that had never dealt him aught but in- | But Cora’s love for dear old Boston prevalien, jury, and now the woman whom he loved more | aes them all to return to their early home, han anything else on earth, or in heaven, was | When the agih oa had pronounced Mrs. Pres- appealing to him from her knees for protection | ton’s health thoroughly restored by the life- from a monster whose spiritual deformity was | giving climate of Denver. only equaled by the fairness of it »hysical tenement. | THE 2),
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32 Large Three-Column Pages. 1.A Hard Crowd ; ox, GenTLEMAN Sam’s Sister. By Philip 8S. Warne. 2. The Dare-Devil; or, THe WincEp WircH oF THE Sea. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 8. Kit Carson, Jr., THE CRACK SHOT oF | tne West. By Buckskin Sam, 4. The Kidnapper; or, THe Great SHANGHAI OF THE NortTHwest. By Philip 8. Warne. 5. The Fire-Fiends; or, HeRcu Es, THE Iluncnpack. By A, P. Morris. 6. Wildcat Bob, THe Boss Bruiser ; on, THE BorDER BLoopHouUNDS. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 7. Death-Notch, THe Destroyer; or, THe Sprrir LAKE AVENGERS. By Oll Coomes. 8. The Headless Horseman. A strange story of Texas. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 9. Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 10. Vidoeqg, THe Frencu Pouice Spy. Written by himself. 11. Midshipman Easy. ryat. 12. The Death-Shot; or, TRACKED TO DeatH. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 13. Pathaway; or, Nick WHIFFLEs, THE Op TRAPPER OF THE NorTHWEST. By Robinson. 14. Thayendanegea, THE Scource ; or, THE War-Eacue or THE Mouawks. Ned Buntline. 15. The Tiger-Slayer; or, EaGur- Tlzap To THE Rescux. By Gustave Aimard. 16. The White Wizard; or, Tue Great PROPHET OF THE SEMINOLES. By Ned Buntline. 17. Nightshade, Tue Rosser Prince \ Hoonstow Heats. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 18. The Sea Bandit; or, Tae QurEen ov Tae Istz. By Ned Buntline. By Capt. Mar- 19. Red Cedar, THz Prarrm OuTLaw. | Ly Gustave Aimard. 20. The Bandit at Bay; or, Tux Pr- RATES OF THE Prairies. By Gustave Aimard, 21. The Trapper’s Daughters Tur Outiaw's Fare. By Gustave Aimard, 22. Whitelaw; or, Natriz or THE LAKE Suorg. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 23. The Red Warrior; oR, STELLA De_orme’s ComANcHE Lover. By Ned Buntline, 24. Prairie Flower. By Gustave Ai- mard, author of “ Tiger-Slayer,” etc. 25. The Gold-Guide; or, Stren Arm, Tak Reavtaton. By Francis Johnson. 26. The Death-Track; or, THE Ovur- LAWS OF THE Mountain. By Francis Johnson, 27. The Spotter-Detective; or, THE Grats or New York. By Albert W. Aiken. 28. Three-Fingered Jack, Tux Roap- AGENT oF THE Rockies. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 29. r Dick, Toe Faro Kina; or, Tue CasHieR’s Crime. By Philip 8S. Warne. 30. Gospel George; or, Frery Frep, Tus Ourtaw. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 31. The New York ‘Sharp ;’ or, Tue F..isn or Ligurnine, By Albert W. Aiken. 32. B’hoys of Yale; or, Tar Scrapers or A Harp Ser or CoLturarans. By John D. Vose. 33. Overland Kit. By A. W. Aiken. 34. Rocky Mountain Rob. By Aiken. 35. Kentuck, the Sport. By Aiken. 36. Injun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. 37. Hirl, the Hunchback; or, THe SWORDMAKER OF THE SANTEE. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 38. Velvet Hand; or, THe [Ron Grip or Inzon Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. 39. The Russian Spy; or, Tue Brora- ers OF THE STARRY Cross. By rick Whittaker, — OR, | | | OF THE GREAT SALT LAKE. 49. The Long Haired ‘ Pards;’ or, Tur TARTARS OF THE PLAINS. 41. Gold Dan; or, THe Ware SAVAGE By Albert W. Aiken. 42. The California Detective; or, Tue Witcues oF New Yor. By Albert W. Aiken. 43. Dakota Dan, Tue Reckiess RANGER; | or, Tat Bee-Hunters’ Excursion. By Olli Coomes, 44, Old Dan Rackback, Tur Great EXTARMINATOR. By Oll Coomes. 45. Old Buli’s Eye, THe Liaurnine Snor or THE Piarms. By Joseph FE. Badger, Jr. 46. Bowie-Knife Ben, THE LITTLE Hunter or tHe Nor’-west. By Ol] Coomes. 47. Pacific Pete, Tur PRINCE OF THE Revotver. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 48. Idaho Tom, Ture Youne OvuTLaw OF SILVERLAND. By Oll Coomes. 49. The Wolf Demon; or, THE QUEEN OF | qvHE KANAWHA. By Albert W. Aiken. 50. Jack Rabbit, Tue Prater Sport; By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 51. Red Rob, Tue Boy Roap-AGEnt. By Oll Coomes. KIT CARSON, JR.—No. 3. 52. Death Trailer, THe Cnumr or Scoors. By Hon. Wm. F. Cody, (Buffalo Bill.) 53. Silver Sam; or, ‘Tur Mystery oF Deadwoop Crry. By Col. Delle Sara. 54. Always on Hand; or, Tue Sportive Sport or tHe Foor Hnis. By Philip 8. Warne. 55. The Scalp Hunters, A RoMANcEOF THE PLAINS. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 56. The Indian Maseppss or, THE Map Man or tHE Puiarns. By rt W. Aiken. 57. The Silent Hunter: or, THE ScowL Haut Mystery. By Percy B. St. John: 58. Silver Knife; or, WICKLIFFE, THE Rocky Mountain Ranaer. By Dr. J. H. Robinson, 59. The Man From Texas: or, THE OvurLaw oF ARKANSAS. By Albert W. Aiken. 60. Wide Awake; or, Tue !pi0T THE BLACK Hints. By Frank Dumont. 61. Captain Seawaif, THE PRIVATEER. By Ned Buntline. 62. Loyal Heart; or, Tot TRAPPERS OF ARKANSAS. By Gustave Aimard. 63. The Winged Whale. By Aiken. 64. Double- Bight, the Death Shot. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. or By Jos. &. Badger, Jr. | Price 10 cts, 65. The Red Rajah; or, Tak Scourcr or THe INDIES. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 66. The Specter Barque. A TALP or HE Paciic. By Captain Mayne Reid. 67. The Boy Jockey; or, Honesty VERSUS CROOKEDNESS. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr, 68. The Fighting Trapper; or, Kit CARSON TO THE Rescur. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 69. The Irish Captain; A TALE oF Fontrenoy. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 70. Hydrabad, THe STRAYGLER; or ALETHE, THE CHILD OF THE CoRD. By Robinson, 71. Captain Cool-Blade, or, THE Mar SHARK OF THE Mississiprr. By Jos, E. Badger, Jr. 72. The Phantom Hand. A Srory ov New York HeartTHs AND Homes. By A. W. Aiken. 73. The Knight of the Red Cross; Each Number Complete, , or, TH MaGiciAN of GRANADA. Dr. J. H. Robinson. 74. Captain of the Rifles. A RomMAncr oF THE MEXICAN VALLEY. By Captain Mayne Reid. 75. Gentleman George, or, PARLOR, Prison, STAGE AND STREET. By Albert W. Aiken, 76. The Queen’s Musketeer, or, THISBE, THE PRINCESS PALMIST. By George Albony. 77. The Fresh of Frisco, or, THE Heiress of Burnaventura. By Albert W. Aiken. 78. The Mysterious Spy; or, GoLpEN FErATHDR, THE BUCCANEER’S DAUGHTER. By Grainger. 79. Joe Phenix, tar Potice Spy. By Albert W. Aiken. 80. A Man of Nerve; or, Caiman, TRE DwarRF. By Philip S. Warne. 81. The Human Tiger; or, A Hxari oF Fire. By Albert W. Aiken. 82. Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster. By Col. Thomas H. Monstery. 83. Gold Bullet Sport; or, raz Kyicuts OF THE OVERLAND, By Buffalo Bill. 84. Hunted Down; or, Wrrcu. By Albert W. Aiken. 85. The Cretan Rover; or, ZuLFIKan, THE BeautiruL. By Col. Prentice Ingraham. 86. The Big Hunter; or, THE QurEN OF THE Woops. By the author of “ Silent Hunter.” 8Y. The Scarlet Captain; or, Tue PRISONER OF THE TowER. By Col. Deile Sara. 88. Bie George, THE GIANT OF THE Guicu; or, Tuk Frve OurLaw Broruers. By Badger. 89. The Pirate Prince; or, Prerry NELLY, THE QUWEN OF THEIsLE. By Col. Ingraham. 90. Wild Will, Tnz Map RancuEro; or, THe Terriete Texan. By Buckskin Sam, 91. The Winning Car; or, THE Inn. KEEPER’s DaveuTerR. By Albert W. Aiken. 92. Beffalo Bill, Tax Buckskin KiNG; By Major Dangerfield Burr. 93. Captain Dick Talbot, Kine or tHE Roap. By Albert W. Aiken. 94. Freelance, THE BuCCANEER; or, The Warr oF tHE Wave. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 95. Azhort, }ue AxMAN; or, THE SECRETS or THE DucaL Patace. By Anthony P. Morris. 96. Double-Death, or, THE Spy QuEEN or Wyomine. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 97. Bronze Jack, THE CALIFORNIA TuoroveHereD. By A. W. Aiken, 98. The Rock Rider; or, THE Spirit or THE Srerra, By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 99. The Giant Rifleman; or, WILD Lire In THE Luweer Reaions. By Oll Coomes. 100. The French Spy; or, THE Brive or Paris. <A Story of the Commune. By A. P. Morris. Ready August 11th, 101. The Man from New York ; or, Tur RoMANCE oF A Rich YounG Woman. By Albert W. Aiken. Ready August 25th. THE WHITE A new issue every two weeks. Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of twelve cents each, BEADLE & ADAMS Publishers, 98 William Street, New York.