Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 83) (1879 12 17)
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— the Ss : ; 3 cm ye gh = Ss : Tre — : > , ili iit ‘it ! i BE quill 4 44 af es ~ “ eth LAA bul ANAL \ NAS as ie a a tse ttt Hi | Ni i ’ a ay q “ s BERRA ee. AR | KL Meee (ty ¢ . } y a | CEPA OS, rp OPYVRIGHTED IN 1875, B8Y BEADLE & ADAMS. CPABLI LS 5 ENTERED AT THE Post OFFICE AT NEW York, N. Y., AS SECOND CLass MATTER. V ] VII Published Every Leadle G& Adams, Publishers, Ten Cents a Copy. N 83 0 ‘ ‘ Two Weeks. 98 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y., December 17, 1879. $2.50 a Year. 0. BY HON. WM. F. CODY (Buffalo Bill), AUTHOR OF “DEATH TRAILER,” ETC, CHAPTER I. THE DOUBLE TRAGEDY. WINTER in the mountains! stern, cruel, relentless winter, with its icy breath sweeping over hill and valley, and its snowy mantle spreading over the wild and rugged landscape. Up into the marvelously clear air a feathery column of smoke rose above the rough, yet comfortable cabin of some bold miner, who had come to that far-away scene to search for the golden ore, and toil for the glittering dross that rules the world. A small cabin of two rooms, built of rough logs, and sheltered by an overuse spur of the mountain, and half-hidden within a clump of pines, whose stout trunks had withstood the storms of two-score years, and whose needle-like foliage sighed softly in the summer breezes, or moaned dismally in the winter blasts. Within the lonely hut sat two persons before a huge fire of logs—the one a man, the other a woman. A man of superb physique, a dark-bearded face, handsome and reso- lute, and black hair that fell upon his shoulders—a man to love, yet a man to fear in anger. He was dressed in top-boots, dark gray pants, and a blue woolen shirt, ae around his waist was a belt containing two revolvers and a long nife. A woman, and yet almost a child, for she was scarcely over eighteen, and notwithstanding her rude attire, strangely beautiful in face and form—a face to idolize, for in it dwelt so much of womanly loveliness and purity of soul, She was dressed in a short woolen skirt, jacket of heavy material, | and stout shoes—the latter failing to hide the symmetry of her little feet. The inner room of the cabin, as seen through the open door, was used as a bedchamber, and held numerous pretensions to comfort for that far frontier land, and the apartment in which the two persons sat, dreamily gazing into the fire, was the sitting-room, kitchen and dining- room combined. Upon one side of the fireplace were cooking utensils, and upon the other side a table, with shelves above it containing dishes. These, with three chairs, a large chest of stores, and a number of rifles, pistols and knives, completed the furnishing of the humble home, if I except a guitar, which lay across the woman’s lap, its strings untouched and silent. Who were these two, whose every appearance indicated that they belonged to the highest walks of life, living there in the Rocky Moun- tains of Colorado# Was the man a fugitive from justice, and had he been forced to fly from civilization for crimes committed, and who had been followed by the woman of his love? Was there guilt in their living there, far from the homes of their childhood, or had the curse of poverty driven the strong man to dig for gold, and the true love of woman caused her to follow his fortunes, to exile herself from the world to live with her heart’s idol? Let the sequel answer these queries, kind reader. And as those two sat there in the firelight glow, the day wore on apace, and as the velvety shadows of night crept over the hillside and canyon, the pines sighed as though in deep sorrow, and the fleecy feathers of the flying moon-clouds fell silently down, covering over the gashes and guiches in the hills, and shutting out the rugged slopes from view. Wearily up the steep hillside toiled a file of horsemen—their cloaks drawn close around them, their forms bent to face the icy gale, and their steeds climbing the mountains with no willing step, for their eet told them that there was little comfort in those black hills for them. The horsemen were five in number, and the one in the rear led a ~*2ed bearing a side-«addle. The man in advance seemed of different metal from his folluwers~— one, who in civilized life, would have been called a gentleman, if dress and og on ty would make him such; his companions evidently were rough bordermen, with long unkempt hair an! eni}, rudely dressed, RITFFALO BILL. and wearing blanket coats or eloaks.
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= . » (ee : y om Gold Bu! let Sport. All were well mounted, armed to the teeth, and their very silence as they urged on their horses, seemed to forebode evil. D Up the snow-covered path they climbed, until suddennty the leader drew rein, and the others, per force of circumstances, followed hisexample. Then, above the moaning of the pines, and the whistling of the winds, was heard a voice in that wild region. It was @ woman’s voice, and raised in song— a voice that would have thrilled the hearts of a metropolitan audience, so clear, so surpassingly sweet was it in every note. ‘* Hark!” The word broke sternly from the lips of the leading horseman, and all halted while the melody was wafted ou the icy wind adown the snow-covered hillside. “The bugles sung truce, when the night cloud had lowered, And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky; And opt tie. had sunk on the. ground overpow- ercad— The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.” “Her voice! At last I am on the right trail! Sing on, sweet Victorine, for if you go not with me, thatshall be your death-song, 1 vow it, be- fore God!” The words dropped in low, earnest tones from the set lips of the man, and he bent his head low and listened, while mingling with the woman’s voice, were heard the low notes of a guitar. A moment the horseman sat in silence, and then, with a muttered imprecation and a shake of his shoulders, heurged his steed on once more. A few more lengths, and the animal gave a low neigh of joy; thé rude mountain cabin ‘was in full view before him. And again the line of horsemen halted, while the heavy door of the log hut swung open and the miner stood on the threshold. he dying rays of the setting sun at that mo- ment broke through the snow-clouds and fell full upon his splendid form and lighted up his dark face—a face the very picture of, ruined nobility —the face of a man A might have sinned, but had certainly suffered deeply, in the twenty-five or six yéars he liad lived. The wind came down, keen and raw from the hights above, whispering, sighing, sobbing and moaning, yet it brought no shiver to his stalwart frame, and his hair and beard tossed by the breeze, he stepped without the doorway. Instantly he halted, his hands dropping in- stinctively upon the revolvers upon his hips, for his quick eyes caught sight of the horsemen, now halted within thirty paces of him. “Who comes? Friends or foes?” His voice rung out in a way that proved him willing to greet either friend or foe. ‘*T am your foe, Harold Meredith.” It was the leading horseman that spoke, and at an order in a low tone five rifles covered the miner. But his face never paled, his voice never quivered, as he said in low, distinct tones: ‘Yes, Clarence Gilmore, we are foes to the bitter end; but what do you wish here?” “ Your life, villain, and her whom you took from me.” ‘**Tf you get either, Clarence Gilmore, it will not bo a bloodless victory, I warn you.” ‘Oh, I know you well, Harold Meredith; but your threats avail you nothing, and my men have you covered with their rifles, and will shoot you in your tracks if you move. Suppose we come to terms, as I hold the trump card.” What terms, Clarerce Gilmore?” ‘* Your life if you give up Victorine.” “T willask her. Victorine!” **T am here, Harold.” The woman glided from the cabin out into the falling snow, and stood by the side of the miner. ‘ Victorine, yonder is Clarence Gilmore. He hascome to take my life, and you from my pro- tection—will you go?” “ Never !”? The woman spoke in a tone that admitted of no doubting the sincerity of her determination. ‘Yon have heard the answer, Clarence Gil- more: letit be war to the bitter end.” * Victorine, I demand that you forsake that man and come with me. For two years I have trackel you, and now I will not give you uP, said Clarence Gilmore, and the glitter in his eyes proved that he was in deadly earnest. ‘Before I would go with you, Clarence Gil- more, I will die by my own hand—nay, I will ask Harold Meredith to take my life.” A wild look came into the eyes of the miner, and his face turned to the hue of a corpse, as he said, in his deep tones: “Te I cannot protect you, Victorine, I will drive my knife to your heart.” The woman shuddered, and for an instant seemed about to fall; but recovering herself, she Sid, firmly: Qo be it, Harold; it were worse than a thou- sani deaths 60 go with him.” “ Fire!” The word broke savagely from the lips of Clarence Gilmore, and four rifles flashed out tiame and echoed through the rocky hills, while Harold More‘! “@ecrered back, hard hit, and Victorine, with a wild shriek threw herself upon his breast. : With’ revolver in hand Clarence Gilmore dashed forward and drew rein within five paces of where the miner s the warm blood drop- ping from several wounds, upon the cold snow, one arm around the form of Victorine, the right hand holding his gleaming blade above her bosom. ‘Back! If you come on, Clarence Gilmore, I will drive this knife through her heart!” : The horseman balted, his face pallid, and his eyes glaring, as he shouted: se Meredith, you dare not.” “Try me!” Clarence Gilmore again spurred forward upon the two, and the knife aecenclail while the eyes of Victorine gazed straight into those bend- ing aboye, and in which dwelt the look of a hunted tiger at bay. “Good God fdrgive me!” , The words burst from between the set teeth and the keen blade sunk deep into the bosom of the woman, from whose white lips broke one long, piercing cry of anguish. en the two sunk down upon the white couch of snow, the woman dying, the man sore- ly wounded. Like a mad creature Clarence Gilmore flung himself from his steed and ny ag down be- side the woman, the miner unable to draw the revolver upon which his hand rested. His last strength had been given to the blow at the woman’s heart. ‘She is dead! God forever curse you, Harold Meredith! ¢ Ay, atid yet shall I have my revenge! Here, men, bring that lariat and string him up to yonder tree.” ‘ He is dying, pard. Gwess as how he’s most gone now,” said onc of she rude men. ‘Curse him! Were he dead, I would hang him. Up withhim, I say!” The men no longer hesitated. Around the neck the slip-noose was placed; the hands were bound, and the wounded man was dragged from the snow-clad earth into mid-air, and the rope made fast. trim and ghastly the form swayed to and fro in the icy wind, and adown the mountain-side came a wailing cry, such as a lost spirit might utter when crossing the threshold of Perdition. It came to the ears of those five men, and four of them bounded away, sprung upon their tied horses, and rushed recklessly down the stee thway, unheeding the cry of their londee ay halt. Then again came the wailing cry. It might be the wind in the pines, it might be the shriek of the panther; but Clarence glance at the hanging form of Harold Meredith, another at the dead woman, and fled from the scene, his horse urged madly on in the gather- ing gloom—flyin from that -haunted spot in the snow-clad hills. CHAPTER ILI, THE KNIGHTS OF THE OVERLAND. THE stage station of Golden City, en route'pe- tween Denver and Central City, Colorado, was astir to greet the expected noonday mail and express, and two-score miners in rude but pic- turesque costume, were discussing sundry cock- tails and punches at Lem Flowers’s popular bar, while awaiting the latest topics of news for dis- cussion. . There was visible a certain excitement in the crowd, and Lem Flowers, who kept the station, certainly looked uneasy, as the hour of noon arrived and the stage was not heard rumbling | through the valley. “T tell yer, lads, I’m afraid Dan Smith has got inter trouble with Capt’in Satan, this trip,” said an old miner, stepping out of the door and listening for the hoped-for sound of wheels, **T guesses not, Luke Sanders, ’kase the stage hain’t but half an hour late by my watch,” said the long-legged man from Vermont. “Your watch ! oh, yas, you ought ter have plenty o’ watches, for we all has a watch on yer when you is round heur, prt & Dave,” sneered Luke Sanders, and a rude laugh greeted his re- mark, while the man addressed, and who was known as Hunky Dave, dropped his hand upon his knife. But the ery arose among the crowd that the Stage was coming, and the next moment the coach and its six horses dashed in full sight, and rolled up to the door, a stranger seated upon the box holding the lines, instead of the well-known driver, Dan Smith. Lem Flowers sprung forward and drag open the door, for it was evident that there had been trouble, as the driver was without doubt a passenger who had volunteered to bring the coach into the station, ““Where is Dan Smith, the driver?” asked Lem Flowers, anxiously, of the man who sprung from the stage box, and who was dressed in buckskin and moccasins, while his dark bearded face was shaded by a slouch hat. ‘“*T heard as how Dan Smith waster drive ther reg’lar stage, pardner, an’ he is comin’ on ahind some miles—that is, ef ther whole capoodlum t wiped out as we was nigh bein’.” ilmore gave one | ‘“ You were attacked by Captain Satan, then?” asked Lem Flowers, eagerly. ‘Right, old hoss, you is. He war a devil, sartin. I tuk passage in ther durned ole box, an’ I rid with Burt Boyd, the driver—” “Where is Boyd?” asked Lem. ‘‘ Deader then a chicken with its head cut off, rd.. He were made a pepper-box of, you bet, ase he thought be c’u’d dash through the Over- land Knights, as those devils call themselves; but they fotched us up, be may gamble on, an’ ef I’ve a durned cent left they don’t know it, an’ ther’s two pilgrims in ther coach as were robbed, During the explanation of the old hunter or trapper, for such he was, Lem Flowers had not noticed any one in the stage; but now he opened the door and beheld a small man, fat and round- faced, and as white as a ghost, seated ‘upon the bottom of the coach trembling violently, and a slender female form leaning back upon the rear seat. ‘ ‘T am sorry, sir, and miss, that you have been robbed, as I hear from this gentleman ;but alight and come in to dinner,” ..*! The little man, seeing that all. danger was over, obeyed with alacrity, and sprung the stage, while Lem aided the lady passenger to | alight—a slender, graceful form, well dressed in | traveling costume, and a face, as seen through ‘the thin vail, strangely beautiful and yet | strangely sad—a face that caused every rough | miner there to raise his hat politely at sight of | it, a courtesy the maiden (for she was under / twenty, auth even looked younger) acknowledg- | ed with a bow, and a sweet stmnile that lighted | up her pale face with sunshine. | ‘I see your father has already gone to the | bar, miss; canI send you a glass of wine to | steady your nerves?” asked Lem. “That gentleman is not my father, sir—mere- ly a fellow-passenger from Denver. Yes, I will diank ou for a glass of wine, as I received a severe fright, and feel the need of it.” She spoke in the softest, sweetest voice, and ushering her into the best room in his house, the station-master hurried away to make his fair guest a whisky toddy, for Lem had allowed his | politeness to overshoot the mark when he asked | her to take a glass of wine, as whisky—and drank straight, too—was the beverage of his establishment. Upon entering the bar, and while concoctin | the ay he learned from the rapid clatter o the fat old man, that the stage driven by Burt ore was an extra going Central Cit to b ng back a party to Denver, and that they had left some time in advance of the regular coach, of which Dan Smith was driver. Not very far from Golden City they had sud- ) only been mrongns to a halt by a party of fifty masked men, who killed the driver, as he at | tempted to drive through them, and robbed the three passengers. ; “ Stranger, I pass on all lies from this time hence forevermore, amen! You is the durned- | est liar lever hear blow. Pards, I have tole yer the truth,” and the old hunter, with a look | of contempt at his fat fellow-passenger, turned ' to the crowd and continued: | “ He says ther were fifty gerloots. Thar wai but five o’ them, an’ they was five more then I wants ter see ag’in. Yas, they wore masks, os | yer calls ’em, an’ one of ’em was a boss, you bet, he sung out like a soldier on perrade ter | throw up our han’s. _ Mine went up, you bet, kase I only fights when thar’s a chance o’ victory; but thet durn- ed gerloot squat down in ther coach an’ yell’d bloody murder, while the prutty leetle gal jist said nothin’ an’ handed out her duckits when they was axed fur, ’ithout a word; but vou jist sh’u’d seen thet rooster when Cap’n Satin, as er calls him, took his gold-dust—y ou bet, it was like ullin’ his jaw nut-erackers every time.” “fT am ruined! I have not a dollar left,” ed the man of flesh. pe Acatn y e yer tole the leddy, oh gain ou is a liar, k: an’ I card yer, thet you had leetle dust with | yer, but plenty in Denver; but, pard, bow long | afore Ik git some grub, kase 1 is allus hungry | an’ this ’ere little skrimmidge has gi’n me a ap- petite as is onhe’lthy not to satisfy with wittles, you bet!” : “Dinner is ready now, sir, an’, if bs a will- ing to drive the stage on to Central Cit ; we'll send down and bury poor Burt Boyd,” said Lem Flowers. ‘Pl roll ther ole box right on into Central City, you bet, kase I ust ter hold ther ribbons in ther ole Verginny mountains twenty yeers -ago—I’m arter wittles now, but I suppose as how that thar gerloot as lied so, is like a b’ar, lives on his own fat.” ; In half an hour more the stage rolled awav from Golden City—Buckskin Ben, bunter and tra per, holding the ribbons, and the maiden and he fat passenger again risking the danger of the road, As the coach disa’ ed a dozen mounted men rode out of the station-yard, volunteers to go in search of Dan Smith and the regular stage, now an hour late, and which all were confident had also been halted by the daring band, known as Knights of the Overland, and who acknowledge for their chief a rit whose he | |
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i a } ; } ‘* aerful exploits, cruelty and daring esca fad won for him the name of Captain Satan, ' ** Thar she comes now!” _ A dozen voices gave the cry, and a loud yell broke from the crowd as the Ryser stage came ou at a swingin ce, Dan Smith, the well- known driver, holding the ribbons, ““Who-ho! All out for grub at Golden City!” shouted Dan, as he drew up and threw the reins upon the backs of the smoking wheel- horses. fe fe “Hurrah for Dan! Boy, you came through all right, I’m glad to see,” cried Lem Flowers, again stepping forward. i ‘“* We come through, yas, ole hoss, but thar’s | cold meat within the precincts 0’ this coach— two stiffs, and two wounded.” The reply of the driver caused the crowd to gather around the coach, out of which there | sprung 8 man of commanding presence—a man an inch over six feet, broad-shouldered, with a asaya waist, and remarkably small hands and eet. ' He was evidently under thirty, and his face | “vas bronzed and beardless, while every feature | was strongly marked with resolution and fear- lessness, and in his large black eyes dwelt a look as though they rested constantly upon some scene of sorrow. He was dressed in a jacket of the finest black silk velvet, and white corduroy pants, stuck in boots that were of the finest manufacture, and the heels of which were ornamented with hand- some gold spurs. A broad-brimmed white slouch hat sheltered his head, and upon his shoulders fell waving masses of soft brown hair, while, contrary to the custom in that wild region, he wore a white shirt, the bosom, ‘collar and cuffs beautifully embroidered. Around his waist was a belt of gold links con- taining two revolvers and a knife, all gold- mounted heavily, and in his hand he carried a whip, with the handle of the same precious metal, in the end of which glittered a large diamond, When this exquisite horseman, without a horse, sprung from the coaeh, many a miner wit dayne of contempt at his appearance, ough he could but admit him to be a hand- some man, with a form of splendid physical development. With a bow to Lem Flowers, the stranger turned and aided to alight a young gir] closely vailed, and then an elderly gentleman, who bin a blood-stained handkerchief around his Then followed a rough-looking miner, also wounded, and as they were ushered into the station by Lem, Dan Smith drew from the | coach two dead bodies—one an Irish miner, well known in Centrai City; the other a Jew dler. * Here’s the stiffs, pards, an’ ther ole man an’ ther gold-digger you see enter the shanty is both wounded. I tell you we had it while it lasted,” said Dan, adjourning to the bar. “Who is the old gent, Dan?’ asked a miner. “He are a rich feller from ther States as is bought ther Grizzly mine, an’ ther is his darter, who is goin’ with him ter live in Central ** An’ ther fancy gerloot, Dan, who are he?’ “He are a man, fellers, from the tip o’ his toe to ther top 0’ his head, you kin gamble on, an’ ef any feller as hears me talk goes for ter doubt my word, why, jist let him tackle that game- cock, an’ he'll find it suddint death.” “He don’t look it, Dan; he are too fine.” ‘Yas, fine feathers makes fine birds, an’ bis hain’t ruffled, tho’ he has jist laid six gerloots e dead.” With cries of surprise the crowd gathered cloéer, and Dan, as is usual with those who have important news to communicate, very calmly delayed its recital, while he quietly poured out ‘five fingers” of whisky straight into a glass, and then ed it off with a smack of relish. “ Durned ef I b’lieved half hour sin’, thet I'd evér wrestle with any tanglefoot any more, an’ ef it hadn’t been fer ther game-cock in spurs I’m durned ef I ever would.” : “Tell us about it, Dan, and don’t keep us in nse,” said the bartender. __ “*T guesses as how we was hel’ in suspense for minutes, an’ it’s but fair you is ter be too, h’ as how youis in no danger of yer lives, an’.we was; but, fellers, thar was blazes ter pay back in ther canyon, you may gamble on. ‘Yer see, thar was an extra sent on ahead with Burt Boyd holding ther ribbons, an’ when the Knights tackled him he was fool enough to want ter run through, an’.they. jist gi’n Lim lead pills, an’ o’ thet disease he died, while ther Knights jist bounced ther passengers ier all they was worth. ‘Now ther comp’ny pay me fer drivin’ ther )ld‘hearse, yonder, an’ not fer fightin’; so when I comes upon ther Knights—and they’s pun. awful 0’ late—why, I jist draws rein, an’ waits the result o’ ther funeral. ‘Waal, we come to ther canyon, an’ mighty » vldint ther war three Knights rid inter ther road ia “ront 0’ us, an’ two ahind, an’ ther lead- or, Captain Satan, ee out: ““sarow yy | Gold Buliet S»crt. “Now on ther box with me was that cold | meat yonder, Irish Mike, an’ he begun palaver- in’ with: | How ther divil kin I throw up my han’s | up whin I was afther ’atin’ pig’s fate fer brik- ust? “*T tell yer, fellers, Captain Satan, jist took a squint along his revolver an’ Irish Mike throwed | up ther sponge, fer his checks was called for | mighty suddent, an’ he tumbled over, a dead | Irish, you bet. | Waal, my hands was up, as high as I c’u’d reach, an’ Captain Satan called out, angry like: ““* Dan Smith, tell the men in that hearse to git out an’ lay flat down on ther ground.’ ‘‘T gin ther text as twas preached ter me, an’ durned ef I didn’t hear one feller inside sayin’ as how he was goin’ ter fight it out, an’ I whispered back as how he’d better not; but | Lord bless us, pards, ther hearse-door swung open an’ out jumps ther game-cock as is now in ther house, an’ he had his shootin’-irons in his claws, too. ‘*Waal, you should ’a’ heerd Captain Satan yell at him, an’ they rode for’ard, while ther captain gi’n a loud toot on a born he bad slung to his neck, ‘Now I ’spected ter see the youth in ther velvit jacket took right in outer ther wet; but I was mistook, you can gamble on, fer ef he didn’t shove out those gold pistols o’ his, an’ they begin a awful tune fer the eddification o’ ther Knights. He shooted three times, an’ three Knights went down, each one hit squar’ in ther forehead, as I seen plainly, an’ Captain Satan an’ his remain- in’ pard hunted cover durned quick. ‘*But, jist then, up come half-a-dozen more Knights, as had heard ther horn toot, an’ ther game-cock he yells ter me: ‘ nn Drive on, an’ pertect yerself with ther dead rish, * But I didn’t conclude ter drive on, an’ durn- ed ef Gold Spurs didn’t jump clean up eres side o’ me, with one jump thet made me think he’d b’long’d to a circuss in his time, an’ what I then heer’d was music at ther moaner’s bench. He said: “* Drive on, or Pll kill yer!’ “Now his pistol was p‘intin’ at my head, an’ I drove on, you bet, while he jist tossed Irish over me to pertect me, and standin’ up on ther top o’ ther hearse, he jist let fly three more shots as ther Knights ran afore us ter head us off, iy durned ef every shot didn’t find whar them Knights lived, fer they tumbled off thar horses, hit in ther forehead, as the’r pards had been.” ‘* Bully fer ther game-cock in velvet! But did he get aptain Satan?” asked several voices. ‘No, he didn’t draw trigger on that gent; ef he had, he’d made cold meat o’ him; but in spite o’ ther shootin’, ther gold-spur sport put her through, an’ he wasn’t teched, as ye see fer yerselves, while Irish got three balls in him as was ’tended fer me, an’ ther Jew was sent to Jerusalem, an’ ther old gent, ther miner from Central City was also hurt; but we druv right po wr, poor Burt Boyd lyin’ dead on ther side, an’ them Knigh s didn’t foller us, you bet; a been sickened by ther fun. ‘1 tell yer, pards, thet game-cock are chain- ed lightnin’ let ioose in a rumpus, an’ when he loaded his weepins arter leavin’ ther canyon, why, he jist put gold bullets inter them!” * Gold bullets? ’ cried a score of voices. ‘Tt are true, pards; he loaded them weepins with gold bullets, an’ then he jist slid lish in- side, kase he was ridin’ oneasy on top the hearse, seein’as how he c’u’dn’t hold on; an’ when we was in no danger, he slides inside lis- self, an’ dresses ther wounds o’ ther pilgrims as was hit, jist like he was a quack-doctor—but heur he are now,” and Dan dropped his voice as the object of his conversation entered the a ar, “Come, driver, join me in a drink: and per- haps your friends will take something, too,” said the stranger, pleasantly, and all present ranged themselves alongside the bar. ‘“Pards,” said Dan Smith, as they stood with glasses in hand, ‘Tf don’t know the name | | J ve place awakened from its sleep, for then the order was reversed, and when darkness rested on the valley, the langh and song were heard, and under the sunlight all seemed in repose. Upon a shelf of rock, far up the mountain side, stood a man attired in miner’s dress—a man whose pinched face denoted suffering, and whose ‘naturally strong, elegant frame was bending in weakness. Behind him a few paces was a hovel, rather than a cabin, fcr it was rudely thrown together, and the open door showed that its only comfort was a huge fire-place, for it held as furniture only a stool, a bed of tattered blankets and | bear-skins, and several cooking utensils. 0’ this gent, this whole team an’a hoss ter let, | any more than I does ther bandles you all an- swers to, but I’m goin’ ter interdoose him ter yer by a name I thinks he desarves—pards, this heur gent who jist axed yer ter pe erselves is my friend, Dead Shot, ther Gold Bullit Sport, au’ yer gamble yer last cent he are a squar’ man, every time.” A yell broke from the crowd of miners, and with a bow of thanks the stranger, just baptized as Dead Shot, the Gold Buliet Sport, turned and left the bar, and shortly after the stage rolled away with him seated on the box by the side of Dan Smith, and cheer after cheer followed the departing stage, for the handsome and unknown on had won the hearts of every one in Golden sity. CHAPTER. ITI. A STARTLING RECOGNITION. | _ THE little mining town of Central City lay in | pee quiet under the afternoon sun, for the / gol -diggers were hard at work jin their ‘claims,” and it was only at nightfall that the In one corner was a rifle, and hanging across the muzzle was a belt containing a revolver and knife, while upon the ground lay a pick, shovel and hatchet. A moment the miner stood in silence gazing down upon the distant town, through the prin- cipal, and almost only, street of which was in- distinctly visible the stage coach rolling toward the hotel “*T will go and see if there isa reply to my letter; if not, I fear I shall die of starvation, for it has been two days since I tasted food, and a long time since I have enjoyed a good meal. “Well, so be it, if I die here. I was a fool to attempt to live without one hope in life. ‘*- Yes, I will die here in this wild land, anda rude grave will be my tomb, while she will revel in the wealth that was mine, and be happy with the love of another. Oh, God!” e raised his hands and clasped them above his head, while his lips moved; but whether in prayer or imprecation it were hard to tell. Entering the cabin, he took up his rifle, belted on his arms, and locking the door after him, mowly vended his way down the mountain side. The sun set long ere he reached the town, and he found that there was some unusual excite- ment among the citizens as he entered the Cen- tra] City House, the principal hotel in the place. ‘“ What is it, partner?” ie asked, of a miner who stood near. “The devil’s bin ter pay, boss, an’ Capt’in Satan is the king-pin.- fe jist sailed inter the reg’lar coach an’ a extra hearse as come over ther rode, an’ robbed ther passengers; but he was brought up with a round turn by one cock o’ ther prize-ring, as they call Dead Shot, who jist made cold meat o’ six o’ ther Knights o’ ther Overland, an’ waltzed ther stage right inter town.” ‘* Were there many passengers?” ‘“The extra hearse had three, an’ ther driver, Burt Boyd was kilt, an’ ther reg’lar had six, two of whom passed in the’r checks, an’ two more was wounded; but one of them as was rohbed is jist ther prettiest gal I ever see, an’ bein’ as she’s a stage-actor, she’s goin’ ter sing fer us this nightof our Lord, Anny Dominecker, right ‘round in ther Langrish Theater; so jist waltz right in an’ h’arken unto her chin music, an’ lay out yer pile fer her benefit, as ther fellers is comin’ down heavy in dust, seein’ as how they feels so for her.” “‘T wish I could help her, but Iam starving myself, and the miner turned sadly away. ** Hullo, Lambert, ’ve wanted ter see yer ever sin’ I comed back. Wish ter pay yer the eagle yer loaned me when I left for Denver.” Hugh Lambert turned quickly, and beheld a young miner whom he had often seen before and whom he had befriended some months before upon his leaving town to collect. some funds due him in Denver, and who was the same young man that had been a passenger in Dan Smith’s stage that. afternoon, and, in the attack of the Overland Knights, had received a slight wound in the arm, “Tam glad to see you, Morse, and the money comes in well, thank you: but when did you arrive” . “This afternoon, an’ ther was a lively circus on ther way, you bet, kase we jist run inter Captain Satan an’ his band o’ Knights, an’ ef it hadn’t been fera young man as knows how to handle hisself, we’d jist been cold meat all of us; but ’'m goin’ down to ther theater to hear a gal sing: come ’long.” “ Not now, Morse, for I must buy some pro- visions before the groceries close up for the night; but I will see you later,” and Hugh Lambert, clutching close the money he had received, wended his way to the post-office and grocery com oined, Yes, there was a letter for him, and he recog- nized the writing of the friend to whom he had written for a loan in his distress, and eagerly he opened the envelope; but his face turned ashace paler as he read the contents—regrets at inability to comply. ‘*T fear I am doomed to die here, for, dig as I may, no gold will turn up for my pick. Oh, God! how different was it a few years ago! and how different the life she now leads!” For a r oment he stood in silence, and then, with an effort recovering himself, made his pur- chases of groceries and ammunition, throwing the gold-piece upon the counter and walking out with his einitie’ A short walk brought him in front of Lan- grish’s Theater, now lighted up, and before
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| | fe which was a crowd of excited miners, calling upon all to ‘* Enter this heur slab shanty o’ a theater, an’ open yer ears ter heur a angel sing.” Mechanically he entered, and as he did so the ae eg arose and a woman appeared upon the stage. It was the same fair passenger who had been robbed by the Knights of the Overland—the same sadly beautiful face and graceful form, now clad in snowy white. **Oh, God!” The cry broke from the lips of Hugh Lam- bert, and he tottered back against the wall for support, while his eyes stared wildly at the fair face and form before him. ** No, it cannot be! Gold Bullet Sport. as yer shootin’-irons, an’ yer top ther pile, unless this heur leads yer! but ther angil is goin’ ter chin us another song when I gi’n ‘her the dust she tole me, an’ yer is in time to git yer ears full o’ duleet honey, or I'ma liar. This leads yer, pard,” and as Buckskin Ben spoke he held up Mee trinket thrown in the basket by Hugh Lam- rt. ‘Tt are a pictur’, by ginger! gold and dimints round it—a pictur’ o’ thet very leddy thet singed them ditties, or yer can call me a polecat.” Dead Shot gave one glance at the gold-incased _ diamond-studded miniature, and snatched it It is only a startling re- | semblance—she cannot be here,” he muttered, | and he trembled like a wind-shaken leaf as the words of song burst from the lips of the lovely woman. She had chosen well for that rough audience, and in silvery notes arose and fell the words of ‘* Home, Sweet Home.” ‘* Her voice—her face—her form! can there be two women in the world so alike? ‘“‘Can there be two such beautiful faces to hide hearts so false?” Again Hugh Lambert listened, and song after song came from the red lips, while adown the rough, sunburnt cheeks of the audience many a tear would roll, and teeth cut deep into the flesh to keep back the sobs that would well up as remembrance carried them back to the days of ‘‘ auld lang syne.” A rough, untutored audience that beautiful woman sung to—men whose hands were red with human blood, many of them, and whose hearts were blackened with crime, yet even for ali that who had feeling, deep and terrible be- neath the rude exterior, and who were but as children under the spell of that wondrous voice singing the melodies of their childhood. At length the curtain went down—the lovely songstress had done her duty, and yet not a sound of applause came in response; only one long-drawn sigh, a moan almost, that the end had come and they would hear no more. Suddenly one man arose in the crowd; it was Buckskin Ben, the hunter, who had brought the extra stage on to Central City. ‘*Pards, jist keep yer seats fer I’m selected as ther rooster to navigate amid yer with a baskit, fer yer gold-dust, bein’ as how you’ve g’in ther leddy a benefit. I’m a-comin’, gerloots, so pass almost rudely from Buckskin Ben, his face white, and his hand trembling as he held it up to his gaze. ‘God above! who gave this miniature?” The voice was deep and quivering, and the hunter saw that the handsome stranger, so nervy ‘‘on the shoot,” was moved deeply by the face before him. “A pilgrim as had no money throwed it in ther basket, an’ then levanted as tho’ ther devil had sent for bim.” ‘Who was he?” “ Don’t know, pard; ’m a stranger in these diggin’s.” ‘I will give you thrice the value of that por- trait for it.” ““C’n’dn’t do it, pard, kase it was chipped in fer ther leddy, Mayhap she might let it go at that. She’s at ther Central City House, whar you hang up.” Dead Shot gave another long look at the min- iature, and then handed it reluctantly back to Buckskin Ben, while his head dropped forward, and he stood like a statue, as though lost in the deepest, most painful reverie, In the meantime Buckskin Ben edged his way back to the front seats of the theater, where, accompanied by Judge Wolf, the proprietor of the Central City House, and the gentleman and his daughter who had come over in Dan nith’s coach, sat the beautiful vocalist, her face thished with excitement, for never had she made such a decided “hit” as before the rude audience | whom she had just entranced by her superb over yer chips,” and Buckskin Ben began to | push through the crowd a basket in hand, the enormous dimensions of which would have stampeded an eastern audience. As for Hugh Lambert, he stood against the back wall, cowering like one who thought he had seen a ghost at midnight in a grave-yard; he seemed powerless to move or speak, and his arms bung nerveless at his sides, his bundles | having dropped upon the floor unnoticed. Nearer and nearer drew Buckskin Ben, talk- ing in his quaint way as he moved along, and louder and louder resounded the musical clink of the gold as it fell, in almost a continuous stream, into the basket, for the miners of Cen- tral City had gone whole-souled into the benefit given the beautiful vocalist. ‘“Down with yer dust, pard; the game’s layed, the deal’s over, an ther gents is cashin’ in thar chips. Whar’s your chips, my scared- lookin’ pilgrim?” Hugh Lambert looked bewildered, and glanced up in a strange sort of way, while his moving lips uttered no word. But suddenly he thrust kis hands into his pockets, and drew them forth empty. ‘*T remember; I did not wait for my change at Conroy’s grocery. I have no money,” and he spoke like one in a dream, while a glance at the princely contribution—for the songstress had touched the pockets as well as the hearts of the miners—showed that his pittance would have been but a small sum to add to the golden donation. “Too thin, my pensive pilgrim; you should ha’ stayed out.ef yer had no dust. I’m waitin’, pard, fer yer chips.” The face of Hugh Lambert flushed crimson, and then became deadly pale, and with a mut- tered imprecation, he thrust his hand into an in- side pocket of his woolen shirt, and drew it forth containing an oval piece of gold, glittering with diamonds. ‘ With a groan, that burst through his set teeth, he dashed the trinket into the basket, and turning rapidly fled from the scene, out into the darkness and storm, and running up against a man just entering the theater. ; “That man is mad or desperate; if this were a gambling-hell he were leaving I could under- stand his wild manner,” and Dead Sbot, the Gold Bullet Sport, for by such name only was he yet known in Central City, entered the thea- ter. ‘ Jist in time ter pay ther fiddler, ,” and Buckskin Ben thrust the contribution-basket under the nose of the new-comer. ‘Certainly and with pleasure, though I am sorry I missed the singing,” and Dead Shot threw a handful of gold coins into the basket. * You air a trump keerd, pard, with yer dust | after her like the breakers upon t singing. ‘*Heur’s ther dust, leddy, an’ it’s all yaller metal, ’ceptin’ a leetle article as is worth more than half in ther basket. Now ther pilgrims w’u’d like yer ter tune up one more ditty fer them—somethin’ melancholy like, as will fetch ther weeps, an’ then, leddy, Pll shoulder yer dust down to Judge Wolf’s lay-out fer yer.” Buckskin Ben placed the heavy basket upon the bench, and the woman arose and once more faced the audience. Twice she essayed to sing, and her emotions choked her—the princely tribute had unnerved her, and the voice that had never faltered in public before trembled now as it rose in glorious melody—the words of that plaintive old ballad, ‘* The long, long, weary day,” floating quivering- ly through the silent hall. The songstress had reached the second verse— ‘** Alas! if land or sea had parted him from me— Alas! if land or sea had parted him from me— I would not these sad tears be weeping; But now he’s dead and gone—gone far away from me—”’ Then a man in the furthest end of the hall : roused himself from his spellbound attitude, and gazed upon the singer. One glance, and a shriek—a man’s shriek—rung out wild and thrill- ing, and a heavy fall was heard. ead Shot, the Gold Bullet Sport, had fallen ‘ like a dead man prone upon the floor, the mo- ment his eyes had res upon the face of the vocalist. CHAPTER IV. A THIRD SURPRISE. In a pleasant room of the Central City House a woman paced the floof, her long trail rustling e beach. Upon the table, whereon stood the lamp, was a pile of gold, amounting to several thousand dollars, and in her clenched hand she held the miniature thrown into the basket by Hugh Lambert. The face was as strangely beautiful as it was strangely sad, and the miniature was a perfect likeness of the maiden, though taken perha several years before, for it seemed a_ trifle younger; but there were the same red-gold hair raided in ote coils, the same black eyes with their sweeping lashes, delicately penciled brows, and ruby lips, which with every word or smile displayed the pearliest teeth. pon the hotel books the maiden was regis- tered as Miss Violet Markham, of New York city, and she had told Judge Wolf that she had been brought up for the stage, hoth as a voca- list and actress, and had saved up a small sum with which to prosecute a search for a person, said to be in the mines of Colorado, and who held a secret regarding her parentage which | she wished to know, | | | | When robbed by Captain Satan, she had been in di ir; but now she had more gold than ever she had possessed before, owing to the generosity of the miners, and she was free to continue her search once more. This was all that was known of the pretty ; splendid-looking man, and a gamb. | my picture. eee = “ey singer, and no other questions were asked mr, for her face seemed a guarantee for her trurcy- ness; though, when it became known thav a young miner had thrown into the basket as his contribution, a diamond-studded likeness of th maiden herself, and that Dead Shot—or ‘“‘ Tarle- ton,” as he was registered at the Central Citz/ House—had fainted away when he caught sight of her face, there were some who believed that she hada history that was in some way wmir- rored in her sad face. Now, as she paced the room with graceful sweep, the brows were contracted in deep and painful thought, and the lips moved in low ut- terance; ‘‘Strange—oh, so very strange! I cannot ac- count for it, and this doubt as to who and what they are nearly drives me mad. In some way those two men must be connected with m*: pa t. “Hugh Lambert they call him—a yourg miner who works a claim in the mountains, bis universal bad luck, and is as poor as poverty, they say; yet he had this miniature of myself, set in gold and studded with diamonds worth &s much as that pile of gold yonder. ‘“ Where did he get it? and who can he be? “ Hugh Lambert! I do not remember the name. ‘* And the other—Dead Shot they call him; the man who behaved so bravely, and beat o: the Knights of the Overland single handete a er, they say, though no one seems to know aught regarding him; he fainted dead away when he saw my face. Who can he be? j “Tarleton is the name on the register, but that tells me nothing. “T must see thead tivo men, and know why it is that my face moves them so. First, I will goto the miner in the mountains, for he bad I can ride there on horseback, and one of those good miners will guide me; I will go down at once and make arrangements for av early start, for the storm is about over.” So saying, she left her room, locking the door after her, and descended to the hotel ry oat where Judge Wolf sat, conversing with a ta man, well-dressed, and with heavy beard, near- ly concealing his face. Botli looked up as “7iolet Markham entered the little room, and the :a1l man sprung to his feet, his face livid, while from his fipsbroke the cry: af God in Heaven! from the very grave!” Without another word the man fled from thi: — though from a weird being of anothei world. “Miss Markham, your presence in our littl: town seems to have moved three men deeply,” said Judge Wolf, gazing upon the maiden wit): a look of rise. * Judge Wolf, who was that man?” ‘“‘His name is Colonel Darke, at least he i: known as such here. He owns the Deadman’s Mine, a few miles from here, and must get a good bg, of it, as he always has plenty of money. Do you know him?” ’ ““T do not remember ever to have seen him before, and there certainly seems a mystery in the behavior of three men to-night at sight of me—a mystery I am anxious to solve, and I wish to ask you if I can get a saddle-horse and guide in the morning, as I desire to go to the cabin of this Hugh Lambert, who so gener- ously contributed my own likeness as his fee to- night?” if You can have a horse, Miss Markham, ard a guide can be easily found for you.” ; ‘I thank you, Judge Wolf. Good-night, sir and please have me an early breaklast,” an Violet Markham swept from the room. A moment after the man called Colonel Darke entered—he had evidently been watching out- side. “Wolf, who is that girl?’ he asked, in his deep tones. He was a man whose age it was hard to tell he might be thirty, and perhaps forty-five. He was a fine-looking man, his cheeks, chin and mouth hidden by a long black beard, and his eyes deep-set, dark blue, and yet full of fire, while they were ever restless, hardly resting an instant on any face or object. : His form denoted strength and activity, and he wore a brown corduroy suit, and kept his coat open, as though to quickly get his hands upon the revolvers upon his hips, A black slouch hat shaded his forehead, and his pants were stuck in cavalry boots. - “That is the very question she asked ahow ou, ail said the judge with a smile, While e added: ‘ ‘Did you think her a ghost?” ‘She is either a woman I once knew well, or her ghost !” ‘* You believe in ghosts then, colonel?” ‘‘No! that girl is the one I think it is, in pro Pie sona, though I would have sworn on he Bible she was dead.” ‘Who did you think it was, colonel?” ‘That is none of your business, sir; her pres ence startled me because believed her.in her grave. What does she call herself bere * “Violet Markham,” PO: “Ah! What isshotarg ts"e”
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_—o - light that came from ——— 5 it Gold Bullet Sport. ‘“‘That is her business, Colonel Darke,” quietly answered the judge. “You refuse to tell, then?” “Oh no, I really do not know more about her than she has herself told; she was robbed by that | overland curse, Captain Satan and his gang, and the boys gave her a benefit, and a royal one to-night, and never did I hear a better voice than she has, and I heard Jenny Lind, years 0. oer She was in one of the stages that arrived from Denver to-day, then?” “Yes; she came over in the extra, whose driver was killed and passengers robbed, she | among the number.” be Strange, very strange; her face really startled me,” said the colonel, musingly. “ And you are only the third man she has startled to-night.” “How mean you, Wolf? You know I just ¢ame in from the Deadman’s Mine.” “ Well, a young miner in the mountains, evi- dently one who has seen better days andisa gentleman, threw into the contribution basket | as his mite, a jewel-studded miniature of Miss — Markham herself, and then fled from the thea- ter; then one of the guests, Mr. Tarleton, and whom the boys. have called Dead Shot, on ac- count of the way he laid out six of Captain Satan’s band this morning, gave a loud cry and fainted in the theater, when he caught sight of the young lady ; now yu run for your life when you see her. You know all I can tell you, colonel, and doubtless more, too,” “ Doubtless, Now, where is this young miner?” ‘He bolted for the mountains, the boys say.” “ And this Dead Shot?” “He soon recovered from his swoon, and came to his room and stayed awhile and just before hae came he went down to the X. 10. U. 8. gambling saloon, for he asked me where he could try his fortune with the cards.” ‘‘He isa gambler, then, judge?” , v ag wee and a successful one, too, I should thin “T will try my luck against his. Will you go down, judge?” “Yes, I would like to see a game between you; he has any quantity of nerve, though he was t by, a woman’s face, and you are known as the most successful hand with the cards.in Central City,” Leaving the hotel under the colonel’s assist- ant, Sling Rum, a Heathen Chinee, the two men wended their steps toward the X. 10, U. 8. ‘gambling-hell. CHAPTER V. A MYSTERIOUS THEFT. Harpy had Judge Wolf and Colonel Darke passed out of the hotel, when a man’s form was seen in the doorway—a form trembling, and a face. white and ha Upon his hat shoulders were huge snow- flakes, and yet, though he had evidently long been out in the storm, he did not tremble from cold; some deeper cause affected him. — Upon a chair near the open fire sat Sling Rum, the Bhhines, his head bent pon the table, and a kitten playing with the end of his “‘ pig-tail,” that hung within a few inches of the floor. As the wind howled without, the nostrils of Sling Rum played an accompaniment within doors in a deep that proved that the Ce- lestial slept, and dreamt bright dreams under the influence of his favorite drug—opium. Noiselessly the man at the door entered the room and glided toward the desk on which lay the register. . His eyes glanced over the names, and he said, half aloud: : “ Miss Violet Markham, of New York—room 33—the same room I had the week I arrived. With another glance at Sling Rum he passed through the oes out into aa dimly-lighted hall, and noiselessly ascended the stairs until he roaanat ~ aig a ug T td sda 9 ere all was darkness, excepting nj the hal pea but o though uainted with its surroundings, ho ‘ded iapeated until he came to a door at the urthest end of the passage. 4a. Halting, he aw a long breath, and laid his hand upon the door-knob. > , “ Fool, that I should tremble so! What isshe to me now? Nothing! and yet I risk life to come here and take from her that likeness which I manele threw away. ‘But I will have it, cost what it may. She was pure when that was taken—pure as the ‘now falling upon the mountains, and now—” Nerving himself to the work before him, he ilently turned the knob and gently opened the iloor. The lamp burned brightly on the table, and before it sat) Violet Markham, holding in her hand the miniature, upon which she gazed with as trange look. y Her wealth of golden hair hung loese about her shoulders and adown her back, and she wore a robe de nuit of blue and white silk that was very becoming to her. _ How strange!” into the room and closed hes d him, turning the key in the lock. | | it reached “ Vivian!” The name fell softly from the man’s i. but the ears of the maiden, who glanced quickly up, beheld that trembling form, and white, haggard face so near her; she attempted to spring to her feet, endeavored to cry out, but strength and utterance failed her, and she slip- ped from the chair to the floor, wholly uncon- scious, yet still grasping the miniature with deathlike tenacity. Now he seemed no longer the half-starved | miner, for with giant stride he was by her side. Dropping upon his knees he Swine his arms about her waist and drew her to his broad | breast an instant; then he seemed as though about to dash her to the floor in passionate fury: | but, with strange inconsistency, checking his mad intention, he covered her lips with kisses. Then, with a bitter curse he threw her from him, and springing to his feet began to pace the floor with quick, angry strides, while his brow became ominously dark and eatin “Tam a fool; I forget she was false to me,” and he gazed down upon the white face. ‘* Yes, thou wert false as Lucifer, Vivian, and I almost regret that I did not slay thee, and | spare him. Had I done so, all these wretched years would not have been passed, for then I would have taken my own wretched life. Ha, ha! your white bosom is as still now as though the spirit had departed, and I am tempted to— no, my hand cannot strike you now, for the bullet I aimed at him also found in youa target; it lod in your fair neck, the papers said, and left a hideous sear.” He held the light so that its rays fell upon the neck—smooth and unmarred. ‘“Good God! there is no scar! Her form, her | face; ay, and her voice, and yet no scar where my cruel bullet cut its way! This is strange! | ‘* But I must dream, for it can be none other. The scar has healed over. Ha! she revives, and she sees me here her cries will alarm the house. Here is what I seek,” and he tore from the small hand the costly set miniature. Quickly he —— to his feet, thrust the like- ness into his bosom and stepped toward the oor. There he halted and dropped his hand upon his knife-hilt; while he gritted forth: “She was false to me, and—no, no, no, I was mad then, and I will not do it now. Let her live, for living will be her punishment.” gain he turned to the door, and the next mo- ment glided out into the hallway, just as a wild cry burst from the lips of the woman—a cry such as Hugh Lambert had heard three years pce 14 when he shot the one he loved best in the wor’ Pausing not Hugh Lambert fled down the out into the keen wind and icy storm. ian But here he halted not, continuing his onward flight right out of Central City into the snow- drifts that lay upon the mountain slo The way to his lonely cabin in the hills was a difficult one by ars but now, when the storm howled through the canyons, and the winds rushed relentlessly down from the lofty moun- tains, driving the snow in savage gusts before it, one would deem it utterly impossible for a man pian the road, or escape perishing in the cold. But he struggled on with indomitable pluck, and though chilled to the very heart, kept up his rapid pace; in fact it was his only hope now to keep him from freezing to death. On, on, on he stag; up the mountain-side the snow driving in his face, and his beard and hair frozen fringe; yet he faltered not, though he failed to recognize any known landmark on the way to his cabin; but then the snow would hide traces familiar to him he thought, and in fact he thought but little of his danger; his brain was in a whirl, his heart aching at his meeting with the woman again who, three years before, had played him false. Suddenly there was another sound than that of the howling storm—a strange, dragging sound, half a heavy tramp, half a roll; but on Hugh Lambert pressed, unheeding, even if hear- ing. the strange noise. hen came a savage growl, a roar, and, knife in hand, Hugh Lamhert was struggling for life in the huge hairy arms of a monarch of the mountain—an immense grizzl Y A Home to the hilt went the keen blade—once, twice, thrice with lightning and giant thrusts, and then the ground seemed to open beneath the feet of the struggling man and beast, and down, down, down fell the two until Hugh Lambert was lost in utter unconsciousness. And the storm raged on for hours, the snow falling in masses; then the moon shone out clear and cold, lighting tke dreary scene, but all trace of the short, fierce struggle was obliterated, and neither victor nor vanqui hed was visible. CHAPTER VI. THE TERRIBLE STAKE. THE X. 10, U. 8. Saloon of Central City was certainly an institution in its way, and a spirited one to boot, for there was an extensive bar, be- hind which stood Red Turner, who could send the six bullets of his revolver into a given space, as easily as he could throw the ingredients of a ll lt pl pe fet ll cp 2 and over which the game of life and death was almost nightly played, with death coming out the winner over some misfortune. The bar and the gambling saloon were allin one large hall, and nightly was the place crowded with those who loved liquor for the excitement it would bring, and cards for the gold they might win—or lose. he frequenters of this saloon with the very remarkable cognomen, were many of them characters in their peculiar way—men whe gambled for love of gold, others from love of gambling; men who drank deep from the love of liquor, and others who were temperate from various causes—the principal one of which was that their tongues, untied by whisky, were wont to divulge strange secrets that had best remained hidden. Others were there nightly, who squandered away the bright dust they dug by day, while many hoped to add to their laid up store a little more to hasten on the day of their return to their homes and their families. Many bold and honest miners were stead7 workers, and visited the X. 10. U. 8. merely our passer le temps, for the long evenings ung heavily upon their hands, or rathei minds. Then again there was a large class of desper- ate adventurers, upon whose heads, were the truth known abou them, hung rewards for crimes committed, and who had saved their lives by flight, and were cursing their souls by adding deadlier deeds to the red list of the Such was the gathering then the night upon which Jud Wolf, the proprietor of the Cen- tral City House, and Colonel Darke, the owner of Deadman’s Mine, entered the saloon. Both men were well known to all present— the judge, a quiet, inoffensive man, avoiding trouble always, yet never shirking the alter- native if it were forced upon him; a man who kept a good hotel, pure liquors in his bar, and allowed no disturbances upon the premises, yet who was fond of a pot 9 glass and a game of cards, be the stakes what they might. The colonel, a man known to no one in and around Central City, that any one had found out, who had owned the Deadman’s Mine about two years, having won it at a game of cards, and staked his life against the ‘‘ claim.” It was said to be a paying “lead,” but had received its name from the fact that several men who had owned it, had been found dead there, a pistol-shot in their forehead to tell how they died. But the colonel took a fancy to it a few days after he arrived in Central City, offered to buy it, and the proprietor refusing to sell, he offere! to gamble for its possession, a proposition the owner, a California Spaniard, at once accepted. Not having the value of the mine in money, Colonel Darke put his life against the balance and won the game, when the Californian a’. once attacked him, driven to frenzy by the los» of his valuable recy’ é and the co/onel at once promptly shot him through the heart, and had since been in undisputed possession, though there were those who were wont to say that some day another body, killed by a pistol-shot, would be found in the claim; but those chances Colonel Darke was willing to teke. Some said that he had been an officer of the army, who bad committed a crime that sent him to the frontier as a fugitive; but this was only hearsay, and none really new anything about him, other than that he was an elegant gentle- man in manners, a successful gambler, fearless and resolute, and always ‘‘on the shoot,” if oc- casion demanded, and Deadman’s Mine was believed to be a splendid property, as the colo- nel had gotten very rich in the two years he had owned it. When not at the Central City House, the col- onel lived in a slab-shanty at the mine, and dressed as a miner; in turf, he was consider- able of a dandy in his attire, wearing corduroy, velvet or broadcloth, as the humor suited him. be entering the saloon, the judge said, uickly: “* Drink, colonel?” “Yes, thank you; brandy straight, Red.” Red Turner, named on account of his fiery: red hair and face, and not his carmine deeds, nyt thet pleasantly and placed the drinks upon the Red?” ‘No, colonel; oh, there he comes now, if you mean the gent who wiped out the Knights.” As Red Turner spoke Tarleton entered the saloon and oi ed the bar, and though he had changed his costume, all who had seen him at the hotel, on the arrival of the stage, at once knew him. He now wore a suit of heavy blue material, the sack-coat serving as an overcoat, and a black felt hat with enormous brim, and a gold cord encircling it. His pants were stuck in the top of his stylish boots, upon the heels of which were the gold spurs, and, as if to protect him from the driving . “Seen a man called Dead Shot to-night,
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snow, a scarf of blue silk encircled his neck, the ends hanging jauntily over his left shoulder. Upon his ands were fine buckskin gauntilets, which he drew off as he approached the bar, the act displaying a splendid diamond upon the lit- tle finger of his left hand, and he carried the ricing-whip, with its gold, gem-studded handle. If he was armed he did not exhibit his weap- ons, but all felt he was not the man to come to such a place without being well ‘‘ heeled.” A murmur of admiration went round the crowded room as he entered, and every eye was Gold Bullet Sport. hands dealt out; then a silence, such as broods around a tomb, fell upon all as the game be- gan. CHAPTER VII. MARKED FOR LIFE. WITH an evenness that created the very in- | tensity of excitement in the lookers-on, the turned upon him, and eve) rf tongue willing to | admit that he was a super hood. Had it not been known what he could do, some reckless fellow present would doubtless at once have ‘‘bounced” him on account of his elegant appearance; but Dan Smith’s tongue had been busy ever since the coach came in, and the town was alive with the exploits of the Gold Bullet Sport. Raising his hat, he shook back the long wav- ing hair, the act displaying his well need head, and causing him, with his beardless face to look almost boyish, though he was doubtless thirty. . His eye falling upon Dan Smith, ashe glanced over the room quietly, he motioned to him and his companion, who was none other than Buck- skin Ben, to approach. “Join me ina drink, gentlemen—ah! Jud, Wolf, will you and your friend also do me the honor?” and Dead Shot turned to the proprietor of the Central City House. ““With pleasure, sir; this is Colonel Darke, Mr. Tarleton.” The two men looked each other in the eyes, and there was something in the glance of each that caused those who saw it, to believe that they had met before. he colonel started, and his usually pale face turned a shade paler, while a strange light flashed in his eyes, and Tarleton smiled, yet there was much in that smile. **T am glad to meet Colonel Darke. What will you take, gentlemen?” The drinks were placed before the five men,and dashed off at a swallow, after which Colonel Darke said, pleasantly: ‘‘Now, gentlemen, who are for a friendly game?” “* Not me, you bet, colonel, kase I knows yer luck too well,” said Dan Smith. ** And I will be excused to-night,” was the re- ly of Judge Wolf, ‘‘and my friend, Buckskin Ben here, was robbed to-day,” he continued. “Yas, they snaked a leetle dust out o’ my ole clothes, but I allus has a savin’ bank in another portion o’ my garmints; I hain’t broke, but I guess as how I won’t chip in this night o’ our Lord, Anny Dominecker, eighteen fifty- nine. “Then it lies between Mr, Tarleton and my- self,” smiled Colonel Darke. “*T will play with you, sir. I came here to while away an hour or two, There is a table,” and Dead Shot led the way to a table which had been purposely vacated by i.s occupants, who were most anxious to see a game between the stranger and the colonel. ‘What stakes shall we begin with?’ asked Colonel Darke. “Tam wholly indifferent, sir; make them what you please,” was the cool rejoinder. This pleased the colonel immensely, and he drew out his buckskin purse. ‘‘Better make it int’restin’ fer ther boys, colonel, es yer did two years ago, an’ play ther Deadman’s Mine ag’in’ so much. Youhas had it two year now an’ hasn’t passed in yer checks,” said Dan Smith. Dead Shot looked up as though for explana- tion. “ Dan refers to my claim, sir, which I work in the mountains. I won it from a Californian, staking five thousand and my life against it. The loser got mad at his loss and I was forced to kill hin.” This was said with, the utmost coolness, but the dark-blue eyes‘of the colonel never left the face of Dead Shot as he spoke. But the face of Tarleton remained perfectly emotionless, and he said, smilingly: ‘“ What do you consider the mine worth?” “Tt pays me a good many thousand a year.” “De you gamble for gain, sir, or the pleasure #f the excitement, may I ask?” ** Wholly for pleasure, Mr. Tarleton.” ‘Then | will stake my life and ten thousand against the mine. If I lose, you get my money and you can take my life. tf 1 win, the mine and your life belong to me.” Every man in the saloon was on his feet in an instant, excepting Dead Shot and Colonel Darke; they kept their seats, and, after clear- ing his throat, the colonel replied without a tremor: “So be it, sir. What shall the game be?” “Three out of five win. If you consider your mine worth more than ten thousand I will stake more against it.” ‘That sum is sufficient. Red Turner, give us a new pack of cards here.” The cards were brought, shuffled, and the specimen of man- | games between Colonel Darke and Dead Shot progressed, until four had been played, each one won alternately by the players, and but the deciding fifth yet remaining. Colonel Darke’s face was now almost black with passion, yet his nerves were steady and his voice calm, while Dead Shot was as cool as though it were a mere e of amusement, and his eyes, as he now and then glanced over the excited men around the table, seemed no bright- er than before. The hand of the fifth and last game was dealt by Colonel Darke, who, ere he had raised his cards from the table, said sternly: sal glass of brandy, Red; will you drink, ir ‘No, thank you, colonel,” was the calm re- joinder of Dead Shot. Red Turner brought a decanter of brandy and a glass, and the colonel filled the tumbler and dashed off the fiery liquor; then he repeat- ed the drink, and shoved the bottle back to the bartender, who, since the beginning of the game bad not been called on for his services up to that time. ‘Now, sir,” and Colonel Darke raised his cards from the table and glanced over them, Dead Shot having already done so with his “hand,” and the ow smile never left his face. Colonel Darke led and Dead Shot “ trump- ed,” and so it went on. The game was played slowly, the crowd holding their breath, until the end. Then a yell broke from half a hundred throats, as Tarleton said, calmly: ‘‘T have won, Colonel Darke. The colonel was on his feet in an instant, his hand under his coat, but the gold-mounted re- volver of Dead Shot already looked him straight yer eyes, while the deep voice of the miner cried: ‘None of that, sir! I won the game fairly and the mine belongs to me. Your life I will not now take, but that I may know my own roperty, if it should stray into other pastures, f will mark you for life The pistol flashed suddenly, not five feet from the head of Colonel Drake, who staggered back as he felt a stinging pain in his ear, while the bullet went on and flattened itself against a marble statue behind the bar. **- You are not hurt, sir; I merely bored a hole through your left ear. I will take rere: of my mine in the morning,” and Dead Shot stepped to the bar, and added: ‘*Gentlemen, join me in a drink, please!” All present, with one exception, ranged them- selves in front of the bar; that exception was Colonel Darke, who, with a bitter curse upon his lips, had left the saloon. * Stranger, ad sent that bullet clean through ther colonel’s left year; I see ther hole myself,” said Buckskin Ben peers oh ‘* Didn’t I say he c’u’d handle the shootin’- irons? Yer bet J never wags a false lip. Thar’s the bullit, Red, jist pass it over an’ let ther boys have a squint at it; they'll find it ther yaller dust. ee bet,” cried Dan Smith, feeling that Dead hot was his godson, he having baptized im. The bullet was passed around to the crowd, flattened out the size of a five-dollar gold-piece, and was pronounced pure gold. ‘* Pard, how is it yer can waste ther metal pes way?” asked another admirer, peering for- ward. “T never waste my bullets, my friend; I always hit where I aim. Gentlemen, my re- gards,” and the drinks were dashed off with eo while Red Turner tacked the flattened ullet up over the bar, with this startling an- nouncement beneath, written in a very crooked hand, for a shot that had gone so straight to the mark, “Ther gold bullit as boared ther left hearer o’ Kurnil Dark—shooted by Ded Shot ther Gold Bullit Sport, in this heur serloon.” After his ‘‘ treat” the crowd e ted to see Dead Shot leave the saloon; but on the contrary, he walked over to a distant table and sat down with Judge Wolf, who had taken a great fancy to the strange man, and there they were seated in conversation when the door opened and ad- mitted four well-known characters in Central City, and men feared as much as they were dis- Nominally they were miners, and they pre- tended to work a mine several miles from town; but when they ever worked none knew, as they were more frequently seen loafing the streets, or gambling in the saloons, They were called the Angel Quartette, on ac- ing so wholly count, it was siupoced of their the opposite of what their name would desig- nate, and poe because they all had voices and ce ly sung exceedingly well to- gether, the only recommendation they had. Some said they were brothers, for they were all over six feet, powerfully built, and heavily bearded, while they were ‘ walking arsenals,” in the way of a armed. : If a row occurred the angel Quartette always “chipped in,” as they expressed it, and they were dangerous and desperate men, as many a poor wretch had reason to know. : Their names, individually, were Jack, King, Queen and Ace—at least such they called them- selves, and which was the trump of the four, none had been ‘able to decide, not even their enemies. of As they now entered the saloon, the crowd, as though by common consent, gave them room. and they ranged themselves before the bar, and calling for drinks, each one in turn treated the rty all round, their favorite way of drink- ing, and each time they changed the liquor, dis- posing of brandy, gin, whisky and rum. Ps : sf none ~~ — for biz. Thar’s a cha eur as kin play keerds tip-top, we Varn; tro *im out, Red Head.” Pie ‘ ® This was addressed to Red Turner, and the speaker was one who called himself Jack. ‘* Thar’s a few chaps heur, pard, as can handle ther papers—ter whom do yer refer?” ‘ - hespoke, Buckskin Ben stepped before the uly. “fp refers to any man as isn’t afeerd ter put his dust up on a game o’ keerds. Is you ther galoot as has jist won ther Deadman’s Mine?” ~ ‘No, L isn’t him; thar sits ther pilgrim over thar, an’ ef yer don’t want ter Sethe awed up yer had better not tackle him, he’s clear grit clean through.” ; ‘‘He’s yer pard, then?” and the four bullies lanced over to where Dead Shot sat, apparent- y not noticing the new arrivals. » ; ‘‘Any man as is honest is my pard,” was Buckskin Ben’s uncompromising rejeinder. ‘You is astranger heur, I ?” : “Yas, I jist comed up fer a jeetle tramp, bein’ as pelts has been prime o’ late an’ I had a leetle metal ter spend fer pizen an’ sich like.” ; 4s What is yer biz, may I ax, in a friendly way? ae “My biz are not ter meddle with that which don’t consarn me, yer durned shanghigh,” was the quick retort of Buckskin Ben, and he dropped his hand on his revolver, but the weapons of the other three of the Quartette already covered him, while all four burst forth into a rude laugh: “Gentlemen, this is not a fair deal.” *s The voice was calm, deep, and resolute, and all eyes turned to behold Dead Shot confron the Angel Quartette, his gold-mounted revol- vers in each hand, and, in some pig tce way, soeentngly aiming at the heads of the four bul- es. ‘Yer has ther deadwood on us, pard. Let up an’ we'll liquor up all round.” 3 It was the Ace who spoke, and as he knew his danger, he ed to “‘crawfish” as well as was in his power. ‘‘And I intend to hold it. No, I never drink with a gang of cutthroats,” and Dead Shot smiled as sweetly as though he had paid a com- PP taick, toeneeines de panded’ between i c le ¢ loo! een four tanta ‘and Sask one seemed to read what was in the others’ thoughts, for, with one accord; oT laid ca oS na upon the bar, and Ace said, reproach ly: : “Stranger, yer has insulted us, but seein’ as how we is four an’ you is one, we won’t chip in ag’in’ yer with our irons, kase it wouldn’t be ther squar’ thing.” ‘“You lie! You all turned a that man, and I stepped forward to see fair play. You came here to cause a row, and if there is trouble it shall be with me; if you wish to avoid it, there is the door.” as This stand of Dead Shot was a new feature and the crowd a moved out of ran ot both parties, all oem ig Judge Wolf and Buckskin Ben—they kept their stand near Tarleton, while Dan Smith dodged behind @ convenient post, and called out: “Bf yer oe ar peg ph ie on bogs ou bet; but I’se paid ter drive an’ no ht, onless tharegued cause; ’sides, I hain’t bin weaned yet, an’ my mammy are awful ’ticular with her boy.” P But while he spoke Dan had a revolver in each hand, and he was aa. for work, if his “ god- son” got into trouble. ; * Pard, I guesses as how I’m ’bleeged ter P buat but this are my funeral,” said Buckskin ; quietly, to Dead Shot, while Judge Wolf re- marked: ‘| think this matter better be dropped where it is. Turner, set 4 drinks.” “We'll drink with yer, an’ we'll shoot with er, jedge; but fust let us clip this game-cock’s eathers. He tole us an’ comp’ny ter leave this heur layout—am I right, stranger?’ and Ace turned to Dead Shot, whose cool rejoinder struck home. ‘** You are, and if you do not leave I shall put you out.” " How it all occurred none knew; but, as of one accord, the four bullies sprung upon Shot; two shots were heard; two mtg Heme follow and then a mass eo te, umanity tha went rapidly toward the door! A giant eff a orash of boards, and two men were hurled of the saloon; thea one man again
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the par—that one was the Gold Bullet Sport— calm, his face slightly flushed, and his hand as firm as a rock, as he took up the brandy decan- ter and poured out a generous drink. “Tarleton, by G—! I never saw such an ex- hibition of strength,” cried Judge Wolf, arous- ed out of his quiet manner by his enthusiastic | admiration. : ‘*He ha’ made a duett o’ ther quartette—sar- tin,” said Dan Smith, bending over the two bullies, who were Ace and Jack. ; ‘“‘ An’ has them atween the eyes,” replied an- other, while a burly fellow cried out: ‘“ Pards, I has struck a lead an’ this are my clearin’, kase I knows whar ther gold is, an’ am goin’ ter play doctor an’ extract these heur bullets, oF nn not a gentleman.” A general laugh followed the remark of the miner, who, a moment after, arose with the two gold bullets in his hand, while he shouted: “My treat, nabobs! Step up an’ gi’n yer stomicks a surprise. Stranger, I’m yer shadder ef yer is goin’ ter sling them bullets round, yer | bet. We'll be dentists tergether; you plug, an’ Pili draw. Red, a bottle o’ wine fer ther Sport.” Shot bowed his thanks, and refusing the | and moved to- | by Judge Wolf, | Buckskin Ben and Dan Smith, while a voice | wine, took a. drink of brandy. ward the door, accompanied called out: “Keep yer eye on him, pards, kase the King and Gieeh hain’t dead yit, an’ they ain’t no | slouch on ther shoot.” The words were, greeted with a loud cheer by the crowd, who tumbled the bodies of the bullies _ unceremoniously into the street. As Dead Shot and his party passed on through the snow, on the way to the hotel, two men came from the shadow of a building near the saloon, and jana mong dead bodies of the Ace and Jack, bore them away in the darkness. ‘Those two men were the King and Queen, and | already’ had ned sworn a terrible oath of ven- geance against the Gold Bullet Sport. CHAPTER VIII. VIOLET MARKHAM RUNS INTO THE LION’S DEN. Wira the early morning Violet Markham arose and quickly robed herself in warm clothing for | her intended trip to the mountain cabin of be mbert. ' When she recovered consciousness, and gave | the loud shriek which caused the miner - fly, | and her | she had found the miniature gone thought was that it had been stolen by the one [whose Unexpected presence in her room had so startled her, y Believing her door locked, and suddenly dis- covering a white, haggard face and- trembli form near her, her usually strong nerves failed her, and she indulged in a woman’s pre- rogative in danger—that is, had fainted away. at the visitor to her room had robbed her of the miniature she was certain; but why had he not taken’ the gold, for it lay before him | ‘ ' sale—left by a miner who has gone to Denver; This she could not understand, and she turned | it over and over again in her mind, as she | upon the table? aced her room in nervous excitement, for the howling of the storm without, and the loud snoring of Sling Rum within, prevented her cry | | the deepest sadness came into his splendid eyes —a look called there by memories of a bitter by- her lamp burning, threw herself upon her bed | to rest, and, to her surprise, soon dropped off | from attracting any notice. At length she locked her door, and leavi into a deep sleep, When she awoke the sun was shinin her windows, and the storm had cl leaving the whole town, valley and mountains, under a snowy mantle, “This storm is the breaking up of the winter, and the spring will soon come. It cannot be very dangerous to go into the mountains with a good guide; it is only a few miles to his cabin, and Linge learn where he got that picture. Hugh Lambert, a poverty-stricken miner, they eall him, and yet, he had a trinket worth a small fortune; but the miniature is gone, and— ah! I wonder if he took it from me? “ Well, I must solve the mystery, and then I can search for him whom I came here to find,” Thus musing while she dressed, Violet Mark- ham led herself deeper than ever into the mys- tery hanging over her; but at last she descend- ed ‘to the breakfast-room and was pleasantly réeted by Judge Wolf, who, no matter how ate the hours he kept, was always an early riser.’ “You are determined to make the trip, then, Miss Markham?” “Yes, sir. Is my horse ready, and did you get me a good guide?” “Both await your pleasure, miss; but you had better wait a week or two, then the snow will be gone, and our hard weather will be over. This last snow-storm was a surprise to us, for we flattered ourselves that spring had come.” 4‘T cannot wait, sir; I have other duties to occupy me in this pest of the country; but; will on Rindly take charge of my sachel of gold? t is in my room.” ‘““Gertainly, Miss Markham, and while you eat your breakfast I will have my cook put you up a substantial lunch, to which I will add a fick of brandy, for you may need it in the in at | away, | Gold Bullet pol mountains. guide comes well recommended to me. A quarter of an hour after Violet Markham was mounted upon a fine sorrel mare, and that she was a splendid equestrienne was evident at a cane efore her, also well mounted, wasa tall, thin, | ungainly man, who, to keep warm, wore several | pairs of pants and as many woolen shirts, which | gave him the appearance of a stuffed skele- | ton His face none could diagnose, as he. always / held it earthward, and he spoke in a quick, jerky manner, as though words in his mouth had a bad taste and he wished to spit them out. Violet Markham was not pleased with her ide, for she heard a remark he made to Judge olf, as she stood within the doorway. ‘“* But, suppose we find ther body—an’ in ther blindin’ snow he set out in, it’s likely we will —who’s to bold her when she faints, jedge? I never was much shakes with weemen, no- how.” * Well, you will do your best for her, Slim Ike, won’t you?” ‘*Yas, jedge, yer kin deepend on me, as on a mule’s hind leg; but it’s more’n likely Pll fetch heck to corpses, kase this hain’t no baby’s play. Teoh then Violet came out of the door, and Judge Wolf hastened to say: “This is your guide, Miss Markham; his name is Slim Ike.” ; ‘** At yer sarvice, miss, but I was a-sayin’ ter ther jedge yer was a bloody idyit ter go inter ther mount’ins this day; but if yer says so, I’m, yer pardner fer ther trip.” **T do say so; I wish to go to the cabin of a miner known as Hugh Lambert; do you know the place?” ** As well as I does benzine, miss. I are ready.” And the two rode away upon their perilous journey. " padee, where is that lady going, may I} k Judge Wolf turned and beheld Dead Shot by his side—calm, fresh-looking; and dressed as he had been upon his arrival at Central City—vel- vet jacket, white corduroy pants, and light slouch hat. “She has undertaken a foolhardy ride to the mountains, to find the young miner who threw her miniature into the basket at the concert last night, and a costly thing it was, though the poor fellow is said to be starving that had it.” **T remember it was spoken of last night. She is a plucky woman to venture out after such astorm. Her name is Violet Markham, I see | by the books?” ‘“Yes, as such she is registered. Have you breakfasted?” “Not yet; I will go in now, and after break- fast I wish to get a good horse for a ride—I would rather buy than hire.” “There is a splendid animal in my stable for but he is ’way up in price.” “Tl take him if he is what you represent. Please have him ready for me after breakfast,” and Dead Shot glanced down the street after Violet Markham and her guide, and a look of one. 4 In the meantime Violet and Slim Ike rode as rapidly on as the deep snow would admit, and leaving the town, pressed forward across ravine and lonely gulch to the spur of the foothills, and then upward under the shadow of the gloomy pines, the guide’s eye constantly bent_ down, as though expecting to come upon a little mound of snow hea up over a dead body. Snow-drifts there, snow-drifts here, snow- drifts everywhere—covering huge bowlders, chocking up the mouths of abandoned “shafts,” and lying-in great, cold, white waves along the level reaches; still no sign of where Hugh Lam- bert -had been overcome by the fierce storm and sunk down to die, with the snow for his shroud. “*Thar, miss, ef yer’ll raise yer head so as to fix yer eyes on thet p’int up yender, yer will see whar the cabin are—back in ther pines,” and S.im Ike pointed with his finger to a lofty spur of the mountain, yet never raised his own eyes from the snow-covered ground, “It are a good location ter view ther kentry, ma’m, but a durned lonely place ter hang out in; but then, he went thar to git a firm founda- tion, Every claim he tackled in ther valley having fotched him nary red, up thar he said he’d give his luck a bottom to back its everlast- in’ cussedness ag’in’.” ‘‘ Away up there? I see it, yet there is no smoke coming up from above the pines. There is a column of blue vapor; and there another, and another, to mark the cabin of some miner, yet it seems deserted. Perhaps he perished in the storm.” “Oh, he may be thar, an’ he may not—no tellin’, ma’m—he’s a queer one; but we'll push ahead ef ye say sO, kase we'll freeze inter mar- ble statues ef we stan’ heur convarsin’.” “Tam ready, guide; I will go to the cabin, anyway.” “It are as you say, ma’m; you is ther cap- port. Your horse is a good one, and your | ed her! y t’in,” and he led on, without: expressing the thought in his mind, that the one they sought was then lying somewhere beneath one of the huge snowdriits, to be found only when the springs suns melted the icy fields upon the mountains. In arduous climbing another hour passed away, and then Central City lay far below them, and the humble cabin of the miner was only a few paces distant. Slim Ike sprung from his tired steed and knocked at the door; but no response came, and with a vigorous kick he dashed it in. The cabin was deserted! In an instant Violet Markham was within the rude shanty, and a look of. surprise rested upon her face, as she asked: ** And this was his home?” “It war, ma’m, true as Scripter; it ain’t no Pavan now, is it?” “ee 0.” The word came crisp from her lips, as if she disliked to break her train of thought, painful thong it, might be. tus “‘This is a cheerless place for one to live who had that miniature—a cheerless, desolate place, indeed,” and she glanced pityingly at the tat- tered blankets, the meager furniture, if such it could be called, and at the drifts of snow driven in through the cracks in walls and roof. Upon the hearth burned a few coals still lowing, yet. they gave out no warmth; but lim Ike quickly had a blazing fire, while the woman stood in silence watching him, and seemingly unconscious of the cold, “Where is he?” she suddenly asked, as if just realizing that the one of whom she came in search was not there. ‘*Gone up ther flume.” “What? ** He’s passed in his checks, ma’m.” **T do not understand, guide.” ‘**T guesses as how he’s not heur.” That I can see; but where-is he?” Serge levanted, or caved—defunct, or play- ed. This was so much Greek to Violet Markham, and she again asked: **Do you think he is dead?” ‘Now yer’ve struck ther bull’s-eye, ma’am; he’s fy ef he hain’t, then he’s tougher then.a grizzly. ‘**T sincerely hope not; but it certainly seems as though the poor man must have perished, if he attempted to come home in the storm last night,” said the woman, sadly. “Waal, he did undertook it, kase I see’d him set.out up ther valley myse’f, an’ he was makin’ tracks lively, yer kin bet.” “Poor He my heart I pity him, and would to God I could have seen him; but what is to be: done now?” ‘Surround a drop o’ pizen, an’ fill yer bread- baskit with some o’ ther wittles yer fotched from ther jedge’s—that’s my strong hold,ma’am, an’ then we'll take ther back. trail fer ther city.’ in spite of her disappointment Violet Mark- ham followed the advice of Slim Ike, and ate a good luncheon, after which she signified her willingness to return; but as she did so, a tall form darkened the narrow doorway, and a man with masked face, and revolver in hand, stood before her. Ata glance she recognized the leader of the Knights of the Overland, who had attacked the “e the day before. It was Captain Satan himself, that confront- CHAPTER IX, A DASTARD’S ACT. WHEN the form of Captain Satan appeared, like an apparition in the door of the cabin, Vio- let Markham started back with a cry of surprise and alarm commingled, and a foreboding of coming evil swept over her. But Slim Ike was at once on the alert, and awakened from his calm manner by the sight of the intruder, threw his revolver quickly for- ward, this time looking squarely in the face of Captain Satan, as he cried: “'Yer’ve treed ther wrong ’coon, pardner, an’ I guesses yer had better levant, kase I holds ther drop on yer, an’ I’m on ther shoot all ther time.” Captain Satan never moved in. his tracks, or touched his revolver; buta quiet, mocking laugh broke from his lips, and the glitter of his eyes could be seen through the almond-shaped holes in his red mask. He was a tall man of fine physique, and was dressed in black pants, stuck in high-top boots, a red shirt of thick material and a sombrero, en- circled by a red cord, while from his shoulders, but the flaps thrown hack, as though to give his arms full play, was a heavy cloak, such as is worn by cavalry officers. Around his waist was a belt, containing seve- ral revolvers, and upon his hands were gauntlet aoe while beneath his mask hung a long, : londe beard, and his hair, the same hue, was cut short. What the face was, beneath that impenetra- ble red mask none could tell, The mocking laugh of the Knight of tie
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| wee The pistol exploded, but ere it did so, a second before, there came a report from the corner of the cabin, and Slim Ike fell like a log in his tracks, his bullet going above the head of Cap- tain Satan, who never moved or flinched, while Violet Markham gave a cry of horror, as form of her guide lay motionless before er. “This is a lonely place for a fair lady,” and Captain Satan bowed politely to Violet. “T prefer its loneliness, sir, to your ill-omened company,” was the quick retort. ‘*We cannot have all we wish in this world, dear lady.” ‘Stand aside, sir, and let me pass.” * And whither would you go?” ‘* Back to the town. I caine here for an object which I failed to pi ipa ig Had I known that you dared to venture this near to Central City I should have come better protected.” ‘**T dare do anything, and no force with you could have preven my getting you into my power. WhenI made you pay tribute yester- day on the highway, I knew not who you were; now that I know you, I intend to hold you pris- oner, unless you willingly go with one who has the right to protect you.” ‘In Heaven’s name, who are you?” “Men call me Captain Satan, of the Knights of the Overland.” “True, and from all accounts you deserve your name; but who are you, I again ask, that lays claim to me as my protector?” ‘*One who loves you—one who has loved you frum your girlhood, and who has long mourned you dead—who, believing you dead, without one hope in life, went from bad to worse until he won the name of Road Agent. Now, do you know me?” * No, nor do I wish to. Stand aside and allow me , “Tt is a dangerous road, and you can never reach the town without a guide.’ **T can follow our trail made in coming here. Oh! why did you have that poor fellow shot down?” and Violet pond sadly upon the motion- less form of Slim Ike. ‘* He covered my heart with his revolver, and my men never allow harm to befall me; but this is idle talk. What was Hugh Lambert to you that you came here to seek him?” ““That was what I desired to learn. In this land, where every man wears a false appella- tion, one cannot tell by a name who a person is. Witness yourself for instance.” “True, and I may say you, as Violet Mark- ham, are not what you seem.” . “t do not understand.” ‘No, ‘you will not understand; but again would I ask, what is Dead Shot, the Gold Bullet Seo registers as Tarleton at the hotel— what is he to you?” “T never saw him to my knowledge.” “Yet he fainted at sight of you, at the con- cert last night, I am told.” ‘So I was informed. His may be, and doubt- less is, one of those cases of fictitious names; did I see him, or know his real name, I would know him, perhaps.” ‘* Again, one Colonel Darke, the owner of the Deadman’s Mine, and an adventurer, fled at sight of you last night, I heard; fled as though you were a ghost. What is he to you!” ‘*T know not. I saw him but an instant, and failed to recall in him any one I had ever before met. ‘And what J am to you, you profess not to know?” ‘*Remove your mask, if you are not ashamed of your face, and I will at once tell you.” *T am half-tempted to do so.” ‘Be fully temp The red mask is doubt- less the reflection of your red heart,” fearlessly said the woman. “You read well—it is; but now I will not oblige you, for my own brave knights never know meas I am—they never saw my face un- disguised, and they have seen me play half a dozen parts successfully; but, will — with me willingly when I swear to you that I am the only living being who has the right to be your protector?’ & I will not! Stand aside, I again command ou. me No, you must go as my prisoner, if you will not ioe me willin, Be Violet kham sta k, and thrust her hand into the bosom of her riding-habit. It was withdrawn, grasping a small revolver. “Ha! ha! that is good acting,” laughed Cap- tain Satan. ; “You wiil find it deadly reality if you advance upon me,” firmly said the woman. “Girl, you are a precious little fool. See there!” He pointed to the form of Slim Ike. “*T see—you are guilty of his murder.” “So be it. Iwill be guilty through the same means, of yours, for you are covered by half a dozen weapons, this instant, and in proteeting Gold Bullet Sport. f spoke with the very intensity of scorn. “Tam afraid of anything or anybody that endangers my life. Come, give me that play- thing, and with me willingly, otherwise you will have to do so, for I shall use force, and riding along unbound, you will find far more pleasant than being held in the arms of one of my ey hts.” iolet Markham saw that she was wholly in the power of the man before her, and she de- termined to yield with good grace, and trust to future developments to escape from her present PraWht is your intent garding me?” sh ‘ is your mtion re; ing me?” she asked caingl . “That we will discuss at leisure, when you are an inmate of my mountain palace. Come, give me that weapon.” “T will go with you, if you will not use force; but I shall not relinquish this pistol; it may nlite to be my only friend.” - ayhep it will, A good revolver, a quick eye and steady hand, are a man’s best friends in this world, and might prove a woman’s too, You are wise in your decision; permit me to old Jou to your saddle.” ithout a word Violet submitted, and leav- ing the cabin, was at once placed in her saddle, her horse being held by a man, also in red mask, as were the half-dozen other men standing near the cabin. “Come, men,” and mounting a large iron- y horse, held for him by one of his band aptain Satan placed himself by the side of Violet Markham, and started off, at as rapida ce as was ible, on account of the snow, urther into the recesses of the mountains, his half-score of followers bringing up the rear, after they had robbed Slim Ike of all that he had valuable about him, which was precious little indeed. Hardly had the Knights of the Overland been gone ten minutes when Slim Ike suddenly sat up, without any premonitory symptom that he was not dead, as all had believed him, for the blood trickled from a wound in the back of his head, and stained the dirt floor of the cabin. “7 guesses as how I hain’t so dead as I look- ed, owin’ ter ther hardness o’ my calabash, which jist turned ther ball up under ther skulp; but I thought it were more healthy ter play , , or ther mout hev bin a corpse pervided er a funeral, an’ this child mout hev needed mournin’ fer by his relations. . a thet ae pov, tang Pant cut pee a uainted with the putty as ed heur ter this durned shebang? ‘Waal, ef she don’t show her claws ef he fools with her, yer kin call me an Injun. I thought at one time ther curt’in had riz an’ ther circus had begun, when she draw’d thet weepin. Lucky fer her she didn’t use it, kase them devils w’u’d ha’ shooted her, sartin. “Now, what’s ter be did? I are afoot—no benzine, an’ it are a long way ter town; but it are far more comfortable then bein’ dead; yer may A ienary on thet fact, Slim Ike, ‘Captain Satan’s got ther , an’ he’s ther man ter hold her; but then, she’s a gal, an’ ther fellers in Central hain’t goin’ ter let him hev her without tryin’ fer ter get her back ag’in— but, who in thunder’s this, an’ I no shootin’- irons? Guesses I'll play dead ag’in. It are more healthy to play dead, than ter be dead,” So saying, Slim ike tumbled over again pe the fab lying so as to show the wound in his head to any one entering the cabin. A step was heard without; a form darkened the doorway, and Dead-Shot, the Gold Bullet Sport, entered the cabin, a revolver, cocked, in each hand, CHAPTER X. 4S THOUGH FROM THE GRAVE. THE gentleman and young lady who had come over from Denver in Dan Smith’s stage and who had witnessed the splendid daring of Dead Shot, were Major Louis Melton and his ag mje orence, The major was a Texan, and had been sta- tioned for several years upon the north-western frontier, where, being a widower, his daughter had lived with him, after graduating at a fashionable boarding-school in Chicago, and her beauty of face and form had won the hearts of all the officers on duty on the border. porate Ls snug ttle sum in cash from an old aunt, or Melton had resigned his com- mission and invested in mini terests, until he at length purchased the Grizzly Mine, some little ce from Central City, and thither he wended his way, determined to make his home near his new acquisition, at least until he dug enough gold out of it to enable him to go East and live in luxury, or travel in Europe, where he could marry his daughter off to some foreign nobleman—one of the weaknesses of the major, this latter desire, lorence Melton, when presented to the read- er, was a haughty beauty of nineteen—a thor- ou ette, and one who was not easily frightened by the wild scenes of the frontier, for from her girlhood, excepting the five years ; a — H LN eee eee SS SS.......99999—9—88899Q053>= ; iis iien ee she had been East at boarding-school, she had mingled in border life. She was as lovely in character as she was in face, yet about her was a certain reserve that ai men from pec oe intimate with her, hen peg’ See at Central City, and lea: how Violet Markham had been robbed, she hi with her father, taken a great interest in the lonely girl, and, the major’s wound being a mere gash in the scalp, they had accompanied her to the theater, glad that the honest miners were going to give her a volunteer benefit: in her misfortune. ; Ae, Though neither father nor daughter could un- derstand the strange effect Violet’s presence had had upon Hugh Lambert and Tarleton, they felt that she was truthful in saying that she did not know the two men, and in ing the mat- ter over tag Wer that night, the major and Florence determined to offer the lonely girl'a home with them, as long as she would ‘remain in Central City, for it was the determination of the owner of the valuable Grizzly Mine to get a home in town and go to housekeeping. Upon descending to a very late breakfast the following morning, the two were greatly. str pries to learn that a third man, Colonel Dark ad been strangely moved upon catching. sif of Violet Markham, and that she had gone off on horseback, with only a guide, to find Hugh Lambert, and learn from him the secret of this sion of the diamond-gemmed migiature of erself. Had they known of the midnight visi- tor to the maiden’s room, and the theft of that same valuable likeness, they would have been still more astonished; but it will be remembered that the strange girl kept to herself this. circum- stance, * From Judge Wolf the nn and Florence also, heard of the remarkable game at the X. 10. U. 8, saloon, between Dead Shot and Colonel Darke, and the part the Gold Bullet ye played in the affair with the Angel Quar- tet ; “T tell won major,” said the judge—as the officer and his daughter sat waiting for thei breakfast, which Gin Sling, the Chinese cook of the hotel, was preparing—‘‘I tell yo era I I never saw such a remarkable man as Mr. Tarleton, whor Dan Smith has appropriately named Dead Shot. “With an eye of fire, he yet has the sad, soft glance of a woman, and his manners are just as elegant as can be, Even in the deadliest dan, ger he is as cool as ice, and smiles as sweetly as a boy looking at his sweetheart. 4th last night ke, t ~ vy ' should have pea him essed elegantly, aud as handsome as a pic and 1 drop Ine the Ace and Jack of th Ange Quartette with two of his gold bulle and hurling the King and Queen clean throug the door of the X. 10, U. 8. without so much ar ruffling his shirt. ‘* And he staked his life, you say, Judge Wolf against this Deadman’s Mine?” ‘¢Yes, major, and won; but he did not. kill the colonel, and I do not think would have marked him, if Darke, in rage at his defeat, had not attempted to draw on him; then he bored a hole in his left ear and told the colonel that he wished to mark him so that he’d know him as his property wherever he met him,” r “There must be some secret enmity between the two men, which was not on the surface.” “So I boy rl aa the moment the twe met; but they both kept quiet if there was.” “Tt am sorry that the man who behaved s@ Leeteeg Pict aE turns out to be only a bar, room fighter and gambler.” It was Florence Melton that spoke, and ther was a vein of contempt in her tone. “You mistake, Miss Melton; he is not such as you call him. He beheld four bullies, thy most desperate devils in the City, draw on one man, Buckskin Ben, and he step forw and demanded fair play, and this brought the trouble on his shoulders.” “* And his staking his life on a game of cards!” ‘* Ah! that he gambles I do not deny, and for stakes I confess I never saw ees for be fore, I must admit; but then, pont ha know, all of us frontiersmen will play even your father doubtless fingers the “‘ papers at times, I po ; “T cannot deny it, judge. What may appens as a crime in the States, is here only a pastime, ou know. Florence, you are severe on Mr. ‘Tarleton, whom I certainly think we owe much to, and a more elegant gentleman, though some- what of a dandy in dress, I never met. By the way, judge, did he give any explanation of his fainting at one of Miss Markham?” ‘4 Florence Melton leant forward as if anxious to hear the reply. ‘‘ None, sir; that is, he merely said she is the image of one he knew to be dead, and whom he loved dearly, and the shock overcame him.” © ‘Where is he, now?’ asked Florence, with indifferent manner, Ps ‘“He bought a fme horse, I had on my hands for sale, and rode away down the valley. I poe jhe has gone to claim the Deadman’s ine. “‘ Alone!” and the manner of Florence Melton was not so indifferent. ri “Oh, yes; he does not know what it is te fean * 9
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Gold Builet Sport. and if Colonel Darke is wise he will yield it | visitor down as no enemy, at once arose toa sit- without trouble, for Dead Shot is no man to stand trifling; but, major, 1 have found you a home that I think will suit you. It is the place in town, by far, and was built by the owner of the Grizzly Mine. weg out of the edge of the town, yet is perhaps e better for that.” ‘Will the owner sell, or rent?” ‘* Hither; and it can be bought at a bargain, as the present owner lives in Denver, where he has astore. It is the fat old man who came over in the extra yesterday, and is sick this morning from the fright he received. ness here was to sell this place.” ‘*T will see him and strike a bargain for ‘the place, for I desire my daughter to have a quiet and pleasant home while we live here, and I thank you for your kindness; but I am reall troubled at what you tell me about this foolis girl. LI would have gone and looked the young wey up for her. I hope no harm will befall 1er. ‘“* [ hope not, indeed, sir, for her sadly beauti- ful face has quite won my heart. ut» you wished a horse you go, as you intended, or wait a day or two tor the snow to get away?” “T will wait, I think, before going to the mine, as my head feels a@ little sore from my wound; but I will, after awhile, get you to go with me to look at this house you speak of, for I wish to get settled as soon as possible. Ah, judge, you have a good cook; that steak is done best ’tain’t ther fault o’ first loots.” It is, however, | His busi- | ride out to your mine—will | to a turn, and the omelet is perfect, while I get | the pure aroma of Java from the spout of that coffee-pot,” and the major, who was an epicure, smiled with hun anticipation as the Chinese waiter placed the breakfast upon the table, say- ing complacently : ‘Muchee goodee eat for Melican man.” ‘*-Yes, these Heathen Chiuee, as we call them, are coo well. That fellow, Swing Soup; my cook, Gin Sling; and my office-man Sling Rum, will all live on what would not keep a white child alive. Ihave a dozen Celestials about the hotel and jon are no trouble tome whatever; but, what in the name of all the saints is that row?” and they make good servants as | As Judge Wolf spoke he ran hastily to the | window and gazed out into the street, and al- | most an oath came to his lips as he saw the cause of the cries that had attracted his atten- tion. “What isit, judge?” asked Major Melton, who had followed him, and saw a somewhat noisy crowd Cougregated outside. it? Why, simply that the dead are “ What alive!” “‘T do not understand.” “ Do you see those four large men, all dressed alike, looking alike, and the center of the crowd?” “Yes, I see them distinctly; they are four re- markably evil-looking men, who seem to allow their beard and hair to grow to hide the faces of cutthroats,” said Major Melton, quietly. ‘You have hit them: those four men are the Angel Quartette.” i ‘Nonsense! you told me that Tarleton killed two of them.” _ ‘** And so he did, or 1 thought so, for the bul- lets hit them square in the forehead, and were cut out by a miner present with his bowie- knife.” “Then how could they be alive?’ “That is the question. I saw two of them killed, and now the four stand there, apparently enjoying good health. This is marvelous.” “Tt is indeed. The wounds were not fatal; the bullets ran round the skull.” ae it would seem; but see, the crowd are as miu stand there apparently enjoying the greater no- they have won.” ‘* And here comes Mr. Tarleton!” ‘It was Florence that spvke, and the eyes of the three fell upon the Gold Bullet Sport. He was mounted upon his new purchase, a uperb blood bay horse, handsomely saddled wnd bridled, and he rode with the graceand con- fidence of a spler@lid horseman. That he 8aw the Angel Quartette was evident: but his face never changed a muscle, while he stniled and raised his broad-brimmed hat as he ep sight of the judge and his guests at the ow. . The next instant he dismounted within five / phose of the Angel Quartette, and a servant led horse away. CHAPTER Xi. SLIM IKE IN LUCK. TuoveH Dead Shot had so suddenly become famous in Central City, there were some per- | sons who had not seen him, and one of these was Slim Ike. ‘Hence he did not know the Gold Bullet Sport, , when he entered the cabin of Hugh Lambert, a gdld-mounted revolver in his ye »“ Ha! there has been foul play here, as I ex- orga de ped this is the man I saw ride away from he bh with her. I fear he is dead,” and Tar- leton bent over the + enna form. . Slim Ike heard words, and setting the ting posture. “You is correct, pard; I ain’t dead, tho’ apt’m Satan an’ his ger- |“ Captain Satan! has he been here then?’ ‘* He hey—I kin gamble on it.” __ “And the lady you guided hither from the | hotel?” quickly asked Dead Shot. “T hain’t good at conundrums, pard; I don’t | know whar she be at this present minit.” “She is then with Captain Satan, for I can | believe nothing else.” | _“ She are, e came in heur on us; an’ one 0’ | his durned gang jist pulled on me from yonder | corner—yer see ther hole thar. Well, I tumbled, an’ thar [ laid, list’nin’ to a leetle intelligent discourse atween Satin an’ ther angil, an’ then | he tole her she had ter go with him, an’ she guessed as how she'd better, seein’ as how she c’wdn’t do nothin’ else; then ther bloody var- mints jist robbed me o’ my possessions, a plug 0’ terbaccy, with several chaws bit off, a flask o’ benzine, thet will pizen ther feller as drinks it, a million in gold dust, an’ my weepins, not ter speak o’ my animile I rid heur.” Dead Shot listened attentively to what Slim Ike had said, and then, by a few questions, learned all that had occurred. ** Now, my friend, I take you to be an honest fellow, and a good seout, as you look like a hunter.” ’ Ere yx are my biz, pard; but who mout you 9 ‘*My name is Tarleton, and I came to Central City to attend to some little matters I have on hand.” ‘Oho! you is ther Dead Shot, or I are a liar.” “That is what you call me here. Now, as you know me, perhaps you may be willing to serve me?’ “ll do it. I like yer looks, pard—a leetle too fine feathers, it may be, but yer ’re lightniw’ on ther shoot, [ ’arn.” That was without a doubta compliment of the highest order from Slim Ike, “T heard the judge at the hotel say you could be depended on, and I intend to try you. will pay you double what®you can make at hunting each month, and engage you from to- day; but mind you, no one must know that. you are serving me.” poe understan’, pard,* Perceed with yer sweet “T wish you to take the trail of Captain Satan—” | “Whew!” | rock. ** What is it?” ' ‘I smell a mice; you is arter him like hot “IT wish to rescue the lady from his power andif you aid me, as I believe you will, I will make youarich man.” i ay ae meat every time, pard. Now I are “Strike the trail of Captain Satan—in this snow you can easily follow him—and find out where he takes the lady; then come to the Cen- tral City House and let me know.” “Tl do it, pard; but I hain’t got no weepins, as them durned Knights jist stripped me o’ those precious tools,” “*T will divide with you, and— Hark!” A heavy tramp in the crisp snow was heard, and the next instant, horseman rode up to the cabin. “Tt are one o’ ther Knights, tho’ he hain’t his mask on now,” whispered Slim Ike, eagerly. In an instant Dead Shot sprung forward and called out in ringing tones: “ Halt! or you are a dead man!” | The horseman was well mounted and at once to see them asT am, and they | turned to fly, but there rung outa sharp re- | port, and he tumbled heavily from the saddle, while, with wonderful speed, Tarleton ran for- ward and seized his horse ere he could get away. ‘* Now Phe are mounted and armed, my friend, and as turn about is fair play, you can search this gentleman’s pockets,” and Dead Shot turned the man over with his foot. He was a villainous-looking fellow, dark- | browed, heavily-bearded, and, well-dressed, while he carried three revolvers and a long knife. _ ** Pard, yer is suddint death with ther shootin’- irons, you bet, an’ I’m obleeged ter yer fer yer | pas present. I'll jist s’arch him as ’tentive- as a son does ther Scriptur’s. See heur, this are his red mask, an’ heur are his gold dust, _ an’ it ain’t no shakes nuther. Jeehosephat King! ef heur ain’t my leetle bag o’ duckits he tu from me!” and Slim Ike continued his search until he drew forth a pack of cards. ' “Jerusha Jane! heur are ther devil’s Bible, an’ it looks as tho’ he’d a very ’tentive reader o’ it. Now, pard, what shell [ do with ther stiff?’ “Throw it yonder over the precipice. Now, my man, you are well mounted end armed, so get off on the trail as soon as possible. You will nd me, as I told you, at Judge Wolf's,” and Dead Shot went behind a huge snow-covered bowlder, where he had left his own steed, mounted, and rode back in the direction of Cen- tral City, while Slim Ike, delighted at the lucky turn-in his affairs, threw himself across. the horse of the dead Knight, and struck off on the trail of Captain Satan, which was plainly marked through the deep snow. ; As rapidly as possible Dead Shot retraced his trail to town, and, on the way, stopped at the Deadman’s Mine, the entrance to which was in a clump of pines on the side of a steep bill. A rather comfortable and substantial log- cabin stood near the mine, with a shelter in the rear that served as a stable. The approach to both the mine and the cabin Was across an open space, and it would seem that the bad name borne by the place, had caused its last owner to almost fortify himself there—at least so it looked to Dead Shot as he sat on his horse gazing around him. From the chimney of the cabin a column of blue smoke curled upward, and Dead Shot rode forward to see if the colonel was at home. that rifle, sir!” , “*Pard, yer is too many fer me; I throws up my hand,” said the man, with the philosophical resignation of the Western borderman when pe: sees that his adversary has the ‘‘drop” on im. ‘‘T mean you no harm. I came to see Colonel Darke,” and still covering the man, Dead Shot rode up to the cabin door. ‘He are not at hum, stranger, an’ I guesses ag he’ll weep when he comes back and I tells him how he missed seein’ of yer.” ‘* When did he leave here?” “ He hain’t bin heur sin’ yis’day af ’noon.” ‘‘Very well; when he comes tell him that Dead Shot gave him a call, and that I will come in three days to take possession of Deadman’s Mine.” ‘Yer has bought it, then, has yer, stranger?” ‘No, I won it,” and without another word Tarleton rode away; but a glance in the open door of the cabin showed him that Colonel Darke had exceedingly comfortable quarters, for that wild country. : Half an hour later Dead Shot rode up to the Central City House, and apparently unnoticing the Angel Quartette, entered the hotel, where he wasmet by Judge Wolf, whoasked, excitedly: ‘* Did you see them?” “ Who, judge?” “The Angel Quartette.” ‘¢ Oh, yes.” “You did not. kill them, then, as was be- lieved?” “Only two of them, judge.” None of them—the bullets glanced, only stunning them.” Dead Shot smiled, and said pleasantly: “They will doubtless be at the X. 10.'U. 8. Sa- loon to-night.” “Of course, and I am confident they are dog- ging your steps.” zon “So be it; they shall have all the sport they wish. I shall have to favor the King and Queen next.” ‘*- You will not go there to-night, Tarleton?” “Certainly, Judge Wolf. I never shun any man; but I have news for you—Miss Markham has been captured by Captain Satan.” * In God’s name, no!” * Yes,” and Tarleton told of his discovery at the cabin, and added: *Itis my determination to run this game to cover, and I wish you would have the hunter, Buckskin Ben, looked up, and send him to my room; also, judge, I would like two good men in town, whom you can wholly depend on for any service—can you find me such?” ‘Without trouble. Dick of Denver, who is a dashing young fellow, brave as a lion, and Tennessee Pete, his partner, are just the men you wish for dangerous work, and it will be no child’s play to get the girl from the hands of Captain Satan. It seems to me you had better raise a company. of men and attack the Knights.” “No, I can do more with a few good men than a hundred bad ones. Now I will get some dinner, for my ride has made me hungry. I eri 0-3 you will go with me to the X.10.05, te- night?” ‘Oh, yes, if you will go.” ‘‘T must; I would not disappoint the Angels on any account,” and with one of his peculiar smiles, Dead Shot entered the dining-room, where Swing Soup rushed forward to wait upon ‘him, for he had not. forgotten a certain golden: souvenir of the morning, when he attended the Gold Bullet Sport. ib CHAPTER XII. DEAD SHOT’S ALLIES. AFTER a hearty meal, cooked in Gin Sling’s best style, and served by Swing Soup with a broad grin, Dead Shot went to his room, and unlocking his trunk began to look over his arms —a repeating rifle, gold-mounted, half a dozen splendid revolvers, a long, narrow-bladed Mex’
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Gold Bullet Sport. facture, heavily gold-mounted, and the bullets were of solid gold; he evideatly did not intend throwing shots away, and anything or anybody worth shooting, was fully prized by him as of the value of one of his precious bullets. In a short while his armory was in perfect order, and then he began slowly to pace the floor, his eyes filled with an intense look of sad- ness, and his lips firmly compressed. ‘* Well, this is the beginning of the end, and I have commenced well; so may I continue! ‘* But, great God! how her face startled me, coming back as it did from the dead! | | No, no; | son I’ll never forgit.” ‘* As how, Pete?” asked the judge, with a smile. ‘Waal, yer see, jedge, I are a married man, an’ I had a pard as I us’d ter browse with, an’ we'd sometimes tackle too much tanglefoot, an’ then thar was blazes ter pey in ther bosom o’ our fam/’lies, “One night, now nine years ago this comin’ Fourth o’ July, Buck Townsend an’ myself ras- tled with corn-juice until it got us upside down, an’ at night we started fer home; but durned ef we knowed which house was which when we got thar, an’ argifyin’ ther matter didn’t dono good- so I jist called out ter ther shemale o’ ther she, bang ter come down an’ pick her husban’ out, bein’ as we didn’t know, an’ jedged ther ole nine years ago, now. There I was l’arnt a les- | it is only a wonderful resemblance—it is not, it | lady w’u'd. cannot be she! ‘Yet, be she whom she may, I will not leave her in his power, and I must begin work at once. | ‘* An’ we warn’t mistook, kase she comed down, along in comp’ny with a broom-han’le, of which she had broke ther sweepin’ part off, an’ ‘*T wonder if he is deceived by the likeness as | in less time than a creditor kin present a bill, J well as myself? “Tt may be, it must be—but who is she if not | —oh, God! I dare not speak the name. “The Indian can tell me more; he will know if itis she. Come in!” The door slowly opened, and Dead Shot stood ready to meef friend or foe, bis revolver in | hand; but he replaced the weapon in his belt as | Buckskin Ben entered. ‘*Come in, my friend, and be seated, for I wish a little talk with you.” ‘‘ I’m at yer sarvice, Dead Shot. Ther judge told me yer was wishin’ ter see me,” and Buck- skin Ben threw himself into a chair. “ Yes, and I will tell you what I wish. I came here to settle an old score, and expected but one person to aid me; but I find I will have more enemies than I thought, and I need a few secret friends upon whom I can rely, and I have taken a fancy to you.” .‘* It are mootial, pard; you can gamble on me. Yer helped me out a muss last night when I knows I’d be’n wiped clean out; but I'd died cl’ar grit, tho’. But, yer was lettin’ logge yer tongue tackle.” oe foun’ out jist who lived-at thet lay-out, an’ so did Buck Townsend, too, kase he got Hail Col- umby played on his head, seein’ as how ’twas ther Fourth o’ July, an’ he struck fer hum, while ther ole lady struck fer me, en’ bit dead center every time. ¥ ‘“Waal, I was h’isted up-sta’rs with thet broomstick, an’ I jist tell yer it war int’restin’ while it lasted, kase the old woman’s mad war up, an’ she jist let out steam on me until I played I war dead, ‘*Then she “lowed she’d foteh me ’round, an’ went down-sta’rs an’ I heerd her go out inter ther back-yard, an’ I knowed her biz thar; she war gettin’ peach-switches, an’ thar was a good wth o’ them: seein’ as how we had no kids. ow I a levanted out o’ thet house kinder suddint-like, an’ I hain’t bin back sin’, tho’ I hev wrote ther ole woman an’ sent her lots o’ gold- dust ter keep her in good-humor; fearin’ as how she mout wisit these heur diggin’s; but I hain’t bin dead drunk sin’ thet night, gents, an’ every Fourth o’ July, when I goes ter sleep, I dreams o’ ther time when ther ole woman showed me | which war which. Yas, pard, I do love ben- es, I was about to ask you, if your busi- | ness here would prevent your joining hands with me?’ “Dead Shot, I hain’t got no biz heur. I looks arter pelts when I is in my own ages & but I jist struck a lead—tumbled inter a gol -bucket in ther mountains, one day, when [ war huntin’ b’ar, an’ I jist run’d up heur ter hev a leetle sport all to myself. Chip in, pard, fer I is with yer, skulp an’ toe-nail.” ‘“Captain Satan has a band of some score or more men.” ‘‘ Yer wiped out seveereal of them, yer did.” ‘Yes, but he has fullya score left, and their retreat isin the neighborhood of Guy’s moun- tain, or Devil’s Gate, and they are doubtless well prepared to protect themselves.” ‘They is fools if they isn’t.” ‘Well, it is to this retreat that he has taken the lady, Miss Markham.” ‘*Do yer say, pard, has he got the pretty gal? | , notice when to be ready, and you must have Do yer mean it?” ‘He has, She foolishly went to a miner’s cabin in the mountains, and with only one guide, and Captain Satan captured her there, wounding her companion; but he is now on the trail of the Knights and I expect him back soon with information; then we can act.” “Tm with yer; but we’ll not tackle them alone?” ‘““No; Judge Wolf is to send me two more | men, and these, with ourselves, Slim Ike, and | one whom I expect to arrive to-day, will make six of us—enough for the work.” ‘You lead, Dead Shot, an’ I hain’t skeered.” “Thank you! Come in!” and Dead Shot again stood on the defensive; it was evident that he knew his life was in constant danger. The door swung open, and instepped two men —men in the true sense of the word, as far as their fine physique, bold and resolute faces were concerned. They were in the regular miner’s costume, red woolen shirt, top boots, rough pants, slouch hat, and belt of arms; and though reckless-look- ing, yet their faces were not evil. Behind them came Judge Wolf, who said, pleasantly: “Tarleton, here are the gentlemen I pene of. This is Tennessee Pete, who you remember last night extracted your gold bullets from the heads of the Ace and Jack. He says they went clean through to the back of the skull.” ‘7 knew that, judge. Iam glad tomeet yo my friend,” and Dead Shot grasped the hand o Tennessee Pete. * And this is Dick of Denver, Tarleton; @ young man you can depend on every time, as you can also upon Peter, though he will drink a little too much sometimes.” 4 Dick of Denver also grasped the hand of Dead Shot—a tall, handsome young miner, who looked as though he enjoyed every moment of life. “ Now, jedge er needn’t gin me away. I does like p’izen, lm free ter sw’ar, an’ 1 pours it down quite peert, sometimes; but I hain’t bin rally dtunk sin’ 1 | | | zine, but I don’t git drunk.” Laughing at Temnessee’s story, Judge Wolf left the room, and in a few words Dead Shot made known his intentions—to rescue Violet Markham from the power of Captain Satan, and also to capture or kill the entire band of the Knights of the Overland. ‘* You know,” he continued, ‘‘that there is a large reward for the head of Captain Satan, dead or alive, and a fair sum for each one of his band, and this money falls to you five, for that will be the number I have with me, not count- ing myself, and I have reason to know that) the Chief of the Road-agents has alarge booty secreted at his retreat, which will go. to ou.’ ‘4 A When will yerset in, boss?” asked Tennessee ete. “That will depend on circumstances. I wish you to keep your eye upon my movements without appearing to do so, and I will give you horses -and your weapons on hand for instant use, To-night I goto the X. 10. U. 8. Saloon, and I wish you all to be there— Whatis it, Sling Rum? The Chinese addressed, at that moment put his head in at the door. . is Melican Injun man wantee see Gold Bullet portee. ‘*Good! It is the one I expected. Show him up, Sling Rum, and bring liquors for these gen- tlemen.’ ‘Me doee so all samee,” and the Celestial dis- appeared, and soon returned, bearing a waiter of glasses and several bottles. hind him came an Indian, whose ap - ance and costume proclaimed him to be a Chey- enne chief. 7 With a glad t of welcome he seized the nend of Dead shot, while he said, in fair Eng- ish: ‘ “Red Snake much glad see chief soon bime- y. “And I am glad to see the Red Snake; he is welcome. Gentlemen, this is the Cheyenne chief, Red Snake—a true man, and one who loves his friends as he hates his foes. I owe him my life.” ‘Red Snake love chief. Red Snake dead many times if not for chief. He much brave galdssorasewerty time—Red Snake good In- |: u n, you bet, much hunky.” The Indian :poke with a dignity that im- pressed his hearers with the truth of what he said, and Buckskin Ben remarked: ‘You be co red, I'll sw’ar; but I don’t gaaate tumble ter yer breed. Howsomever, eur’s my claw, an’ I'll stay by yer every time,” and he offered his hand, which the Cheyenne epnen with a smile and a grunt. “Put yer flipper thar, Injun! I’m glad ter make yer acquaintance,” and Tennessee Pete step forward, as did also Dick of Denver, who, throwing off the frontier dialect and slang, as he did at times, said: ‘* The friend of Mr. Tarleton is my friend, be left Tennessee, nigh on ter ; he white, red or black.” The door was now cautiously pene, and ix peered the serious visage of Slim lke. ‘Well, what news?’ and Dead Shot stepped toward him. But Slim Ike was the quintessence of caution, and glancing around him, said: 3 Shall spit it out before these heur gerlocts?” “ce eS, ** An’ ther Injun?” “Is my friend; he is Red Snake, a Cheyenne chief.” “Good! Injun, shake!” and Slim Ike held forth his hand, which the Cheyenne took, sewm- ingly pleased at the attention shown him. ‘ Now let me surround a leetle p’izen, for (ra freezed clean through,” and Slim Ike poured vut a glass full of whisky and dashed it off. ‘Now, capt’in, I went on ther trail ontil I comed ter whar it branched off inter a doen dif’rent ways, an’ bein’ only myself I didn’t {uk but one—one as showed whar two hosses led me along an’ one ther gal’s hoss. This led tier uy Mount’in in the direction o’ Devil’s Ga), an’ thet is all I diskivered, an’ 1 comed back 1» let yer know.” ‘You did right. Now, my friends, help yout selves to liquor, and to-night be at Red Turner's saloon,” said Dead Shot, and a moment after he was left alone with the Cheyenne chief. CHAPTER XIII. RED SNAKE GETS INTO TROUBLE. Ir was verging on toward midnight when Dead Shot entered the X. 10, U. 8. Saloon, ac- companied by Judge Wolf and Major Melton. The saloon was crowded beyond precedent, for it was well known that the Angel Quartette were to be there, and that they ‘meant shoot” with the Gold Bullet Sport, and all in Central City were anxious to see what would be the ter- mination of the affair, for, that Dead Shot would remain away none believed. ' As though expecting the Gold Bullet Sport, Red Turner had reserved a table, which he at once motioned the judge and his friends to take, and it was so situated against the wall, that it fronted the crowd, and could not be easily flank- ed. Amid a silerice, which fell upon the hitherto noisy crowd, Dead Shot and his party walked over and took seats, and brandy was called for ae served by Red Turner, who whis- pered cautiously, as he set it on the table: ‘Be on yer guard, Sport, kase ther’ is bound ter be a b’ilin’ beur ter-night.” Dead Shot smiled pleasantly, and glariced round the room, his eyes falling upon Slim Ike, Dick of Denver, Buckskin Ben, and Tennessee scattered here and there; but Red Snake, the Cheyenne, was not present. ‘“‘T wish Dan Smith was on hand to-night; but this is his night in Denver; he is every inch a man in an affray,” said Judge Wolf, quietly. ; “‘] would like him here, judge, yet I do not expect much trouble,” returned Dead Shot. ‘I see that two of that villainous-looking Quartette have their foreheads patched up with court-plaster,” remarked Major Melton, glanc- ing across the room to where the « Angels” aly a table, drinking heavily and playing cards, At this moment the door swung open and in stalked the Cheyenne, in all the dignity of his race. Walking up to the bar he called for eh which Red Turner | ps ome before him, and he ured out a drink la enough for a small amily, and swallowed it without an effort. “Good fire-water, Injun; bad fire-water make bad Injun. Take more bimeby sometime, ou bet,” and instead of de ing, as all be- ieved he would, RedSnake looked around the room for a seat, and discovering a vacant chair at the table where sat the Angel Quartette, coolly walked over and took it. “ What does yer want heur, red?” yelled the King of the Quartette, in a voice that at once — the Pore of rs oh pebeceacar sy ‘*Me good Injun—play poker, seven-up, ever time, you bet—me hunky boy,” was the calm repl and a burst of laughter followed. \ : Wei, carry me hum ter die ef this don’t beat all! Injun, does yer wish to jine this heur leetle game, or will yer play me single-handed, kase I’m yer honey?’ and the King turned upon the chief with a look that meant mischief, as all or Me. pia pales time—here dust,” ‘Me y ace ev im ere i and Red Snake placed py of gold upon the table, which caused the eyes of the ‘‘ Angels” to glitter avariciously. , Sa I'm yer pardner; what shall it be, red n? “‘ White man know—Injun got much dust.” | ‘You hev, that’s a fact; but I'll rake it all in in the shake o’ a leetle lamb’s tail. Heur’s ther keerds.” : “No; white man cards cheat—Injun good In- jun, no cheat cards—play Injun cards,” and Red nake produced. a pack, from some receptacle - his apparel, that seemed a good deal the worse ‘or wear. 4 ’ “Yer is a lyin’ red, ef yer says I cheat; but Vl not git a with yer. Them keerds hain’t
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nie frob and SSS = — ee Pavia with, tho’, so less have a new | The Cheyenne nodded assent, and Red Turner brought fresh cards, which were at once skill- fully shuffled and dealt by the Indian, whose skill with the ‘‘ pasteboards” surprised all who witnessed it, while it brought forth the remark from the Queen of the Angel Quartette that he’d ‘be durned ef thet Injun wasn’t a painted pale- | face an’ a gambler at that.” The stakes were named and the game began, and ended in Red Suake’s winning the money; but before he could rake in his gold, it was seized by the King, who shouted out: ‘Hold him, fellers, kase he cheated me, an’ (ll knife him.” The Red Snake was a powerful man, but he was taken at a disadvantage, for his arms were seized upon either side by two of the Quartette, while a third held him around the waist. “Hold him, boys, an’ I'll jist skulp him, or | I'ma liar,” and the King started forward, knife in hand. ‘* Hold there !” ery man in the room started at the sound of that ringing voice, that thrilled through them like a trumpet blowing the charge. “* Look out all, kase ther band’s begun ter play,” | yelled Red Turner, and he stood ready to duck | down behind his bar which was iron-plated in- | side; as he had known what to expect, as a man | who dealt out “ p’izen, benzine an’ sich” in that | wild land. At the ery, the crowd divided right and left, leaving a lane open between where the Quar- | tette stood—three of them still holding Red Snake, and the fourth revolver in hand—and Dead Shot. The King now faced the Gold Bullet Sport, his revolver thrust forward, anda wicked pica / in his eyes, for he felt that he had the drop on his enemy now, for Dead Shot’s left hand rested on his hip, and his right hung limp at his side, and apparently weaponless. / Ali saw the apparent advantage of the King, and trembled for Dead Shot, for the desperaco | was known to be a dangerous hand with the re- volver and as quick as a flash. “‘T guesses as how this are my time, igs, Sod ter pervide ther corpse for ther funeral. Yer chipped in too soon, an’ afore yer was ready—I holds the drop on yer,” said the bully. The Gold Bullet Sport smiled serenely, and said, calmly: “J ag in’ because I would not see you ll that red-skin who beat you at cards. If you hold the drop on me why don’t you shoot?” “Dm a-goin’ ter. Say yer ‘Now I lay me down ter sleep,’ kase yer is ter be made cold meat of mighty suddint.” Had the King talked less and acted more, it would perhaps have been the better for him, | for, quicker than a flash *ef lightning, the right arm of Dead Shot jerked backward and for- ward, and it was then seen that the hand had | not been ber pw for there was a whiz in the air and a thud, just as the revolver of the “ce ” flashed. For a second none knew what had orig Sanit and then they saw that the Gold Bullet Sport with one mighty bound, had cleared the space between him and his foes, and held a revolver im each hand at the head of the Jack and Ace, vrhile Red Snake did the same service for the Queen, and upon his back on the floor, stone dead, lay the King, the gold-hilted bowie of ° Dead Shot buried in his heart. The Gold Bullet Sport had hurled his knife as unerringly as he sent his bullets! When the crowd saw how matters stood—that a shot had been fired, a knife had been thrown, and that the King of the oy Quartette was dead, and the other three in durance vile, the broke’ forth in a yell of admiration that made the es on the bar ring n, while a voice was heard crying: . “You hev ’enr now whar they live, Sport; shoot ’em, lynch ’em!” * But Dead Shot did not see fit to follow this advice, and simply said to the discomfited ‘* An- Me ‘* Now get out of this, and take that carrion with you to feed to the crows.” : : He stood back as he spoke, yet. still covering the three men, and Red Snake followed his ex- _ ample, while, seeing that the crowd were against them, the remaining Angels raised their dead comrade from the floor—Dick of Denver stepping fot'ward and drawing the knife from his om, and handing it. to Tarleton—and were leaving the saloon, when the Queen, shak- ing his fist back at his enemy, shouted: ‘ We'll drive ter yer funeral yit, my fine bird —Tll gamble on it. ‘* Done! come back and stake the money witb Red Turner, here—” and Dead Shot walked to the bar, his purse in hand, while the Queen fe- turned, and his comrades halted with the dead body at the door. ' “Pll wager one thousand dollars that I kill u within the month—the one who wins to get e money from Red Turner,” said Dead Shot, ' oe « ‘“ You shoots over my pile, pard, “Five hundred, then’ | Turner, and the ‘ ister inne tat “Tt area bargain! Heur, Red Turner, is my dust, an’ I'll call on yer afore long fer ther stakes, an’ gi’n yer an invitation ter this gent’s funeral. Gents, yer is all invited,” and the bully smiled grimly, and bowed to the crowd. “Pll be at ther funeral, pard, an’ I guesses 2 how you'll ride in ther hearse,” said Tennessee ete. The money was placed in the hands of Red Angel trio” departed, Dead Shot soon after gle accompanied by Ma- jor Melton, and Judge Wolf. As they parted at the bar of the hotel, over a friendly ‘‘night-cap,” the Gold Bullet Sport said, feelingly: “Do not consider me cruel and hardened, Ma- jor Melton, and you, Judge Wolf; but I have a score to settle with certain men that their lives alone can pay. Good-night!” and Dead Shot ascended to his room, leaving the judge and the major more than ever impressed in favor of the Pr xriaaaes man they had known so short a iune. CHAPTER XIV, CALAMITY KATE. Ina cabin on the outskirts of Central City, and standing off by itself, at the mouth of a roc ch, sat a woman, the night of the death of the King of the Angels at the X. 10. U. 8. Saloon. She was dressed in a blue woolen skirt, red woolen jacket, and wore around her waist a leather belt, in which was stuck a revolver and e The face of the woman was a strange one. Once it had been handsome, and even at forty- five it was not uncomely—dark, reckless and marked as it was by evil passions. , Her eyes were large, blue, except in anger, and then they became intensely black; her lips sensual, and the teeth perfect, while her form was supple, graceful, and once been ele- nt. ; ‘Braids of sunburnt hair, once golden, en- circled her head, and in the Bast she would have been mistaken for a Gipsy, but in Central City she was taken for just what she was—a woman who had seen better days, and had drifted to the mines with her husband, or lover. A year before, she had appeared in Central City with a man, who, like herself, wasa wreck, and whom she called her husband; but he, when drinking, denied the soft impeachment; at the same time hinting that she was the legal pro- perty of another man. That he did not care for her was evident; that she idolized him was also evident, and when one day he was shot, in a bar-room broil, and his body carried home to her, she had taken the law into her own hands and killed the slayer of the one she so dearly loved. For a week after the funeral the woman was not seen in Central City, and some miners, be- lieving the “‘claim” deserted by her, went to working it, but they saw their mistake, when, with revolver in hand, she appeared upon the scene, looking like the ghost of her former self, and chased the two off of her possessions, While they lay in bed nursing a wounded leg and arm, they had time to meditate upon the danger of **bouncing” a woman’s claim. From that day the woman, whom the miners had christened Calamity Kate, worked in her mine, getting a small sum out of it daily, and her little treasure she hoarded carefully up for some purpose known only to herself. As she sat that night in her rude cabin, her thoughts seemed none of the pleasantest, if one might judge from the low words that fell from her lips, while her brow was dark and scowling. “Oh! fool that I am, fool that I was! and this life must go on yet longer, ere I can return and see those whom my heart goes out to in all its yearning! “He is dead, perhaps; but they will not die until 1 see them again; and oh! what joy will it be tosee them, even though I dare not tell them who I am. “Oh, God! how I have suffered in all these years gone by—suffered, and yet live—suffered and yet am not mad. “Well am I called Calamity Kate! but oh, how different this from the olden time; yet he was a fool to marry me, when I told him T did not love him; but he trusted me because he loved me, and I was false to him. * And this is ae Oh, how terri- ble it has been! en he lived, even though he had ceased to love me, I could bear it; but now, it is ter than I can bear. ‘Sometimes I feel as though I could not wait to dig enough gold out of the stingy earth, but will take it at the muzzle of my revolver from those that have it—and why not? “ Am 1 not already a murderer? What other crime need I fear to commit? ** But, I would kill again if it would but get me gold to go from here and see— Hark! Yes, it isa step. Who comes?” “Tt is I, Kate: open the door,” said a voice without. The woman arose and drew back the bolt, and a man with a cloak around him entered; it was Colonel Darke. should not blame him, for | “‘Well, Kate, I have again appointed a meet- ing at your cabin; I will pay you well for it.” ‘Gold is what I want, Colonel Darke,” said the woman, shortly. “You see I do not care to be seen talking to the Angels in town, and I told them to meet me here to-night. T suppose you can give us the use of your cabin for a half hour or so?’ poe Darke placed in her hand a few pieces of gold, “Yes, I will go down to the grocery for some stores, and then stop in to see Miner Wetmore’s wife, who is sick. I will return by twelve;” and putting on a man’s slouch hat and drawing a blauket around her shoulders, she left the cabin, the colonel, in the meantime, pacing the floor in deep thought. “That woman could aid me greatly did I dare trust her. I will talk with her some time and see what dependence I can place in her. Now I wonder what those devils accomplished to-ni ght —ha! there they come, now!” Four distinct taps came upon the door and Colonel Darke opened it, and started back with an oath, as three men entered, bearing the form of a fourth in their arms. “Curses! who have you there?” “Tt are the King, goloel, an’ no joking,” an- swered the man known as the Queen. “Ts he dead?” “He hain’t dancin’ happy, you kin bet. He war too much fer us, boss.” “The Dead Shot?” ‘“‘Thet are the feller I refer to—he are chain- lightnin’ on ther rampage, an’ yer never knows whar he is goin’ to strike.” “Cowards! to let one man get the best of you!” sneered Colonel Darke. ; r A k a-heur, colonel, he got away with you, an’— ‘I was one and you were four; but I expect I will have to kill him yet.” ** Tt mout be, or have him call for your checks, colonel, an’ ef he does, I guesses as how you'll cash in.” ‘Silence! Two last night and one to-night— this is bad, very bad; but you must be the Quar- tette again to-morrow.” “Tt are more healthy when~that chap are loose ina pasture ; does yer want us to tackle him ag’in? ‘* Not immediately, for—” “I can’t wait, colonel, kase I have a Jeetle bet o’ five hundred with him I'll get him yet whar he lives; but I’m not so howlin’ happy over ther gamble as yer might think.” “Win your money and I'll give you a thou- sand. He left word at the mine to-day that he would take possession in three days; before that time he must be dead—do you understand?” ** Yas, colonel; but ef I lose ther bet?” “Then the devil will get his own,” rudely said Colonel Darke, and though the Queen’s eyes flashed, he made no reply. ‘‘ When shall we tackle him ag’in, colonel?” asked the Queen, after a moment’s silence. ‘““When you please—try him on the street next time if you wish; if you are afraid to face him, shoot him in the back.” ss Jedge Lynch mout investigate—” “No ger; hang about the streets to-mor- row, and in some way kill him—how, I do not care, so that you doit. I tell you he is our most dangerous foe, and I have work on hand I do not wish him to meddle with. Now I am off for Golden City, and when ] return I expect you to give me a good report. A thousand to the man who kills him!” So saying Colonel Darke motioned to the “An ” that the conference was at an end and they took up the form of their comrade and left the cabin, he following a moment af ter, and mounting his horse that was in waiting, dashed rapidly away in the darkness, _As he disappeared, and the Angels were lost sight of in the gorge, a form crept from beneath the cabin, pushed open the door and entered; it was Calamity Kate. 3 ‘‘A pretty game to get rid of a brave man, my gay colonel; but one in which Calamity Kate shall hold a full hand—I have sinned once in the past, now let me begin to dosome good. CHAPTER XV. T aby. wh sh Judge Wolf h HE property which Judge Wolf had spoken of, as being a pleasant home for Major Melton, more than met that gentleman’s hopes, and a purchase was at once made, the owner being most anxious to get back again safe in Denver, which place he mentally swore he would never more leave. Eager to be at once settled, the major and Florence had been busy all day purchasing fur- niture, and had just returned to the hotel to sup- per, when up dashed the stage from Denver with Dan fmith upon the box. *‘ What news, Dan?” asked Judge Wolf anxi- ously. ‘Passed over yesterday and back ter-day, ’ithout seein’ a single Knight: but thar’s some pilgrims inside, jedge, fer yer hash-house.” The judge opened the stage door and out step- rsons, one of whom in appearane> well-formed was particularly striking—a ¢2"l,
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man, dressed in the hight of fashion, and with blonde mustache, long, curling golden hair, and blue eyes full of expression; a handsome man, and yet one in whose face there was a look not sincere. Bowing politely to Judge Wolf, he said, ina voice strangely soft: ‘You can give me pleasant quarters, I hope, 4ir, for the time I remain with you?” “Certainly, sir; whom do I address?” “My name is Kenyon, sir—Carl Kenyon; I am owner of the Grizzly Mine.” “Ah! I know you by name, Mr. Kenyon, but never had the pleasure of meeting you be- fore. Major Melton, who purchased from you, and his daughter are now guests in the house?” ‘** It is to see Major Melton that I have come. Now'lI will go to my room, please,” and the stranger followed Sling Rum to the chamber assigned to him. Ashe ascended the stairs he met Dead Shot coming down, and the two slightly bowed, hesi- tated, and passed on, the stranger flushing slightly, the Gold Bullet Sport having an un- fathomable look come into his fine eyes. Going straight up to the register Dead Shot glanced at the new arrivals, and then turned away, seemingly puzzled. ‘“A note for you, Mr. Tarleton. When you have read it, I have something to show you,” said the a Shot took the note and glanced at the address: “To Mr. TARLETON—OR *‘Dead Shot, the Gold Bullet Sport.” ‘* Central City House.” It was in a feminine hand and well wrftten— the writing of a person of education. Opening the envelope Dead Shot read without a ma of expression: ** SIR: “You have dangerous enemies in Colonel Darke and the four men known as the Angel Quartette— they plotted to take your life, last night at my cabin, by shooting you down on the street. ‘Beware of them, for you are too brave a man to be shot down like a dog. “You are a stranger to me, and yet I would serve you—but do not betray me, or my life would be the orfeit, ““CaLamity Karr.” Dead Shot read the note twice over, and then tore it into little pieces. ‘** Judge, who is Calamity Kate?” he asked. ‘** A poor woman whom I deeply pity—one who has seen better days, and who came to the city with a worthless vagabond, who boasted that he had won her from her husband; there is some mystery as well as sorrow in her life. Why do you ask?’ ‘*T may tell you some time; now, what was it you wished to show me?” Without a word Judge Wolf led the way to the window and pointed out into the street. There, before the door, stood four men—the Angel Quartette. ‘Those fellows never say die, do they?” ‘Next time I shall have to kill them all and then bury them,” and with a light laugh Dead Shot passed out into the street. His was a na- ture to meet any threatened danger at once, and have it over with. As he left the hotel the stranger, Carl Ken- ry came down to the office and asked to see ajor Melton. ** He is in his room, sir; the heathen will show youup. He knows of your arrival,” said the judge; and a moment after Carl Kenyon stood in the presence of Major Melton and his beauti- ful daughter. - “*Major Melton, I believe?” and Carl Kenyon advanced to meet the ex-officer. “Yes, sir; I was told Mr. Kenyon desired to see me.” ‘* My name is Kenyon, sir.” “ Aha! a relative of the gentleman of whom I purchased the mine? Beseated, sir. My daugh- ter, Mr. Kenyon.” The gentleman bowed politely, gave Florence aglance of unfeigned admiration, and a light but pleasant conversation followed, when, the ier Pome excusing herself, left the room, for she saw that the visitor evidently desired to see her father upon business. ‘Major Melton, pardon a seemin rudeness, sir; but your daughter is very, very beautiful,’ and Mr. Kenyon spoke with an earnestness that proved that he meant what he said. ‘She is the joy of my life, sir, and as good as she is beautiful; but are you the brother of Mr. Carl Kenyon, of whom I purchased the Grizzly Mine?” ‘ “Tam Carl Kenyon himself, sir!” ‘‘Tmpossible!” and the major was intensely surprised. ‘It is true, sir, my name is Carl Kenyon, and I came hither from San Francisco, as /learned that you had made a supposed purchased of my property, known as the Grizzly Mine.” “A supposed purchase? I must confess, sir, Iam wholly unable to understand you. I paid fifty thousand dollars cash for that mine, and hold the deeds of transfer from Carl Kenyon as the legitimate owner,” said the major, warmly, ‘Major Melton, it pains me deanly, sir, to tell ‘you that you have been grossly deceived—the man who sold you that mine had no right to do so. ; : ‘Gold Bullet Sport. ‘You astound me! Certainly there must be some mistake about it?” ‘“ None, whatever, sir, I am sorry to say. I bought the Grizzly Mine a year and a half ago, for ten thousand cash, for it was in ill-favor then; but I put good miners there who struck lucky leads, and it has paid handsomely, under the management of Carleton Keene, my super- intendent, whom I pieced there. “Finding that this agent, Carleton Keene, was cheating me, I discharged him several months ago, and the mine has since run itself, under a boss miner; but you can imagine my surprise and anger when I was told that Major Melton, an ex-army offier, had purchased the property for a large sum from one pretending to be myself,” “Great God! if what you tell me is true, lam utterly ruined—utterly wrecked financially. I pat out fifty thousand cash, and since coming | ere have purchased a house and furnished it; this has swamped me, excepting a few hundred dollars; but I expected daily receipts from the mine and made no provisions for a rainy day. ‘*Now you come here and coolly inform me that the purchase of the mine was a bogus trans- action. It is a sad reality to me, sir.” “T know it, Major Melton, and I deeply feel for you, sir,” said Carl Kenyon, feelingly. ‘“And where is this Carleton Keene, who as- sumed your name?” ‘*He is dead, sir: he killed himself in San A le a short while since, in a gambling ell. ‘*But of course I can recover my money,” and the major was very pale, though calm. “Unfortunately no—he lost every dollar at the gambling-table. It wasthis that caused him to take his own life.” : ‘“T am ruined—my every ho poor, poor daughter,” groane man. ‘*Major Melton, from my heart I feel for you, sir, and—pardon me for the suggestion—if it is as bad as you say,I can certainly keep you from want, for the mine needs a manager, and though the salary is not large, it at least will prevent starvation. Pardon me if I wound “On the cont , Mr. Kenyon, I thank you for your kindness; but, let me collect my ideas, sir; when did this man die?” “Some three weeks since. He lived a few hours after shooting himself, and confessed all to me, **' Yes, he came to the fort, where I was visit- ing a brother officer, and offered the mine for sale, and the representations he made were so fair that I wrote to Judge Wolf, the proprietor of this hotel, and whose name was given me as a responsible party, and was told by him in a letter that the mine was owned by Carl Kenyon, who had purchased it a year and a half before, and that it was paying largely. “*T instantly closed the bargain, and came down here soon after. Now you tell me the man was not Carl Kenyon, Keene.” “True, sir; allow me to summon Judge Wolf —he can tell you something of the man, I sup- ose. 4 Five minutes after the proprietor of the Cen- tral City House entered the room. ‘** Judge, Iam sorry to trouble you; but, did you know Carleton Keene?” asked the major, calmly. - 7 well, sir; he was often at my house.” ** Describe him, please.” “A man of thirty-five, with dark face, no beard and brown hair—about five feet ten inch- es, I should say, and with pleasant manners.” “The very man! What position did he hold in the Grizzly Mine?” “That of manager, I had heard, for the own- er, Mr. Kenyon.” “One more question—when did he leave Cen- tral City?” “Some three months since, sir; and on busi- ness East, I believe he told me.” a‘ I thank you, judge.” Judge Wolf bowed and Gepereels and Major Melton buried his face in hands, while he said, bitterly: “How terribly I have been deceived; Lam a ined man.” ruin “Not so bad as that, I hope, major; but, Carl- ton Keene had every facility to deceive you. He had, as manager, the plans of the mines, and different claims attached to it, and its whole his- tory, and as he bought it for me, he of course knew far more about it than I did, for I have never seen it, or been in Central City before to- day; but, major, there are miners here who know me, ha 4 worked for me in California, years ago, and they can identify me, or you can write to parties of responsibility in San Fran- cisco, and ask—” “My dear sir, you mistake me: Iam not the man to doubt one who comes and makes a plain statement tome. This man represented bimself as Carl Kenyon, the owner of the mine, and the judge bears testimony with you that he was only the manager. I have been deceived, sir defrauded, and ruined; but I will bear it as is gone—my the unhappy ut a Carleton I can.” “You are brave, sir, and you have my sym- pathy. I will visit the mine, see what it is worth, and its possibilities, and then make you an offer as Manager, and none néed know for the present that you are not the owner.” ‘* You are most 5 Snap hen. sir.” ‘No, only just; for the present do not to your daughter upon the matter. Good-after- noon, Major Melton,” and Carl Kenyon left the unhappy man alone with his thoughts. CHAPTER XVI. A RUNNING FIGHT, WHEN Dead Shot went out into the street, he fully expected an attack upon hlm from the Angel Quartette; but undauntedly he passed right by them, his eyes falling searchingly upon each of the four faces, and yet they made no wnotion to draw their weapons. Perhaps the sight of Buckskin Ben, Dan Smith and Red Snake standing near, added to their wholesome fear of the Gold Bullet Sport, prevented their indulging their desire for a street fight. i Seeing that they did not then mean mischief, Dead Shot again repassed where they stood, en- tered the hotel, and soon after. came out aid mounted his horse, which a servant b t round for him. : ** When will you return, Tarleton?’ i **Can’t tell exactly, judge; good-afternoon,” and Dead Shot cantered down the street plea- santly, ching a cigar, and looking as though he had no dread of any danger near him. |. As he rode away from the hotel, a fair face at the window was watching him; it was that of Florence Melton. What was her motive she could not tell, but there suddenly came over her a desire to take a short gallop upon horseback. It was a pleasant afternoon, a little muddy with the melting snow but no longer very cold, and she summon- ed the chambermaid, ordered a horse, and at- tired in a most eens habit, was soon lifted to the saddle by the polite Judge Wolf. “Don’t venture outof town, Hiss Melton,” he said, as a warning : “ Not far, judge; only to have a look at the town from the hills,” and the maiden dashed away, taking the direction in which Dead Shot had gone fifteen minutes before. _“* He certainly cannot ct me of following him; yet I am doing so, I blush to confess, even to myself, for, in spite of his red record, that man holds a strange fascination for me.” Coming to two roads, leading;one down the valley, the other toward the mountains, Flor- ence was at a loss which to take; but after:a moment’s hesitation, she rode off toward the hills, and soon disappeared in the pines that covered the slopes, and fringed the canyons. © Hardly had her form been lost sight of in the timber, when four horsemen dashed rapidly along the road, halted an instant at the forks, and then continued on after the maiden. : When Dead Shot left the hotel he rode rap- idly along until he drew rein at the cabin of the Deadman’s Mine. C “Has Colonel Darke returned yet?” he asked of the same man he had before seen there. “He hain’t; guesses as how he’s layin’ low until his year gits healed, seein’ as how yer bored it fer year-rings. Ther boys tell me as seen ther borin’ thet yer shoots gold ange stranger,” and the man looked admirin gly a Dead Shot. r “Yes: tell the colonel I wish to get possession of this mine—that I won it fairly, and I will not stand trifling. You doubtless know where he is, so give him my message?” ‘‘T will when I sees him, stranger. "Pears ter = ha ter hev some o’ those gold bullits yer shoot, ‘*T will leave one for the colonel, that he may not doubt my having been here. I see his pic~ ture yonder,” and Dead Shot pointed through the open door, to where hung, above the chim- ney-piece, a ] photograph of Colonel Darke, and which had been taken a few days before in Central City, and was framed with a thin cir- cle of of beaten gold from his mine. ua _As quick as a flash the Gold Bullet Sport raised his revolver and fired, and the nae, & ball im- bedded itself in the stout log behind the picture, having through the very center of the head of the likeness. ' 3 “Holy Snakes! Pard, thet lays over an § I ever see. Come ag’in ter-morrer an’ see us. © likes ter hev yer ’round.” : With a light laugh, Dead Shot shoved another load into his revolver and galloped away. At the cross-roads a form was s ea rently awaiting him, and as he would have gone on by, led to him to halt. : Dead Shot did so, surprised at the looking creature before h It was Calamity Kate lect of the mines—‘ pard, way, an’ I see’d a young lady from ther hotel do the same. Yer knows as ter whether she was arter yerse’f; but she tuk thet road ter ther mount’ins, an’ she war alone, an’ shortly arter ther Angel Quartette follered on her trail —or on yours. I are 7 Kate, an’ now: yer knows all I kin tell yer. “Pp ” assum the dia- Pard,” she began, hea see crea this, since they passed?” asked Dead | . .
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im np _ + “Ther gal ha’f a hour ago, ther Angils bout anf as long.” “T thank you. I will see you again,” and the spurs sunk deep into the blooded — causin him to snort with pain and terror as he bound- ed away like the wind. Into the shadow of the pines rushed the steed. and up the steep slope, unmindful of the bad road, until he came to where the way led around araggel spur. Here Dead Shot suddenly be- held the Angel Quartette before him—three of them ifram across his path, standing behind their horses, their revolvers leveled over their the fe rth ridi idl the road, | e fourth was riding rapidly on up the leading a horse by the bridle. It was the steed | yf Florence Melton, and she was in the saddle! Dropping his reins upon the neck of his horse, | and with a revolver in each hand, Dead Shot went straight at the barrier, firing as he rode, and _ met: by answering shots from the three Angels. But down went the center steed, and the rider | followed in a second; then another horseman tell, and Dead Shot swept on, his own steed bleeding from two wounds in the neck, though slight ones, and the brave man himself thrice ttruck! © - Brit he seemed not to feel his own injuries, and urged his horse on with tremendous bounds in suit, and a yell of joy broke from his lips as yee that he was rapidly gaining. A few moments more and the Angel felt that ae must relinquish his prize to save himself, or turn and fight for her. But a glance over his shoulder had shown him that his three comrades had failed to check the wmward rush of the Gold Bullet Sport, and that two of them had fallen, and he knew the uner- ring aim of the man who pursued him too well | to believe that they yet lived. Hence he determined to let the maiden go—to t ransom from her father was all that they captured her for—and to look out for him- | self. But he decided a trifle too late, for, as he spurred on ahead of the horse ridden by Flor- ence, there came a s report, and his own steed sprung into the air, swa ed badly, stum- bled and heavily, hurling rider far over his head. But the man, active as a panther, caught on his hands and feet, and was up in an instant, vonfronting his enemy, his revolve:s thrust for- ward, and rattling off lively and dangerous music as Dead Shot came on. ‘* Now for them stakes, pard!” he yelled, with desperation, when brought to bay. It was the Queen of the Quartette of Angels, and it seemed as if luck was on his side, to win | the money in the hands of well-aimed shot brought the blood-bay down on his knees, and another tumbled him over, dead. But Dead Shot seemed it pcpanta for just such a contretemps, and aligh upon his feet, his revolver flashing as he touched the ground, and with fatal effect, for the Queen mat ae into the air aad fell dead, shot through the heart! ! But the victor had no time to rejoice over the | pce po for there came the rapid clatter of hoofs, and around the bend of the road rushed a horseman, digging his knife down into the back | of his straining steed to urge him on at greater speed, Pit was the last of the Quartette, flying for his | \ife, for behind him were heard the hoof-beats of pursuing horsemen. Kt the t of Dead Shot in his path, the man | attempted to turn up the steep slope; but he was too late—the quick eye of the Sport had already lanced along his revolver, and the Angel tum- Bled from his steed, which was caught by Tarle- | ton, just as five horsemen rode up anddrew | rein. The party were the friends and allies of Dead — Shot; and Snake was in advance. a Waal, Tll declar’--ther whole Quartette wi clean out! Glee-oh-rious! what a funeral we'll hev!” and Buckskin Ben sprung to the side of Dead Shot, who was quietly reloading his re- volver, while intothe midstof the little party _rode Florence, her hair hanging down upon the back of her horse, her face pale, but her eyes Mashing fire. CHAPTER XVII. THE RED MASKS. ‘Mr. TARLETON, I congratulate you,” and | calm Dick of Denver advanced toward Dead Shot, his hand extended, but before the latter could reply Florence Melton sprung to the ground, and, her long habit trailing in the snow and slush, walked 8 ht up to him. ‘¢ Mr, Tarleton,” and her voice trembled, ‘‘once I owe youmy hi elt gratitude. Before, you saved my father and myself from robbery, perhaps from worse, and now you have served me in a way that no words of mine can ever re- y you for. I was foolish to ride so far from the to and thus endanger your life.” Dead Shot’s face flushed slightly,as he saw that it was his she thought of more than her own; but he “Tam glad ah soy (ll of serviee to you, Turner, for, a > | and __ Gold Bullet Sport. Miss Melton, and in serving you I have done the country a‘favoz--removed four of its greatest curses.” ‘Whisky and turnips! Pards, see heur!” cried Slim Ike, who was attentively investigating the wardrobe of the dead Queen, and as he spoke he held to view a red mask, ‘* Two false face—more bimeby, every time,” said the Cheyenne, and he found another red mask upon the second Angel. ‘That means that they belonged to Captain Satan’s band,” said Dick Denver. “Tt does; you will find the same red masks upon the other two lying down the road,” calm- | ly remarked the Sport. ‘‘Oh Heaven, I thank thee! Mr. Tarleton, | from what havo you not saved me?” cried Flor- ence Melton, the color again forsaking her face and leaving her deadly pale. ** But you are wounded! how thoughtless not to have asked you before,” and her eyes turned earnestly upon him. “Only three scratches, Miss Melton. If you | will ride on with Dick of Denver, the Cheyenne will soon dress them for me, and we will over- take you ere you get totown.” As Dead Shot lightly into her saddle, and Dick of Denver plac- ee by her side, the two rode away to- ether. . Throwing off his coat, Dead Shot showed three | slight wounds, two through the fleshy part of the left arm, and the other a contusion, made by a well-aimed bullet striking ar object just over his heart. Removing this object, Buckskin Ben’s quick eyes saw that it was a gold miniature, set with | diamonds, and that the bullet was imbedded in the gold, and that the face was that of Violet Markham ! Here was more mystery, but the hunter said not a word, but aided the skillful Cheyenne in — the wounds which Dead Shot made ght of. ‘* Boss, back yander I see’d two stiffs an’ one hoss, an’ heur is ther same; w’u’d yer tell me how many o’ them gold bullets yer slung round loose at ther whole tea- Pete, who had been wounds of the Angels and their stee ‘*T fired six shots only,” calmly replied Tarle- ton, with a smile. ‘“*Thet’s my calkilation; six shots an’ six lumps 0’ game. Thet are prime, boss; yer never wastes yer pistol provender. Guesses as how I'll extract ther bullets.” “Then come on all of you, and bring the bodies of the Angels. As you pass the hotel I will join you, for I wish to tell you what to do with them. Now, Buckskin, if you will kindly transfer my saddle and bridle from mty dead there, to the steed of the Queen, I will be obliged,” and in five minutes more Dead Shot rode on after Dick of Denver and Florence Mel- ton, passing the scene of his first conflict, with a mere glance at those*who lay dead upon the roadside. At the forks of the road, he came up with Dick of Denver and Florence. They had halted to speak to Calamity Kate, and the maiden was saying, earnestly : ‘I owe, in a great measure, my rescue to you, Iam told, for you sent Mr. Tarleton on after me, as well as his friends. Do come to see me, and let my father thank you, To-morrow we will be in our own house—yonder,” and Florence inted with her whip to the place her father ad purchased. **T have done enough evil in the world to now atone for it by a little good. My conscience thanks me more than your wordscan; but I will come and see you, for a talk with one as pure and beautiful as you are, will do me a world of pe and Calamity Kate turned shortly on her eel and walked away toward her cabin, a hun- dred paces distant, just as Dead Shot rode up ined them. ‘“‘[}]l ride on ahead now, captain,” said Dick of Denver, and leaving Dead Shot as the escort of Florence, the young and handsome miner lloped ee just as twilight crept over the valley, leaving the hilltops yet bathed in a flood of sunlight. For a moment neither Tarleton nor Florence spoke a word, and then the maiden said: “Mr. Tarleton, do you know that you lead a very reckless and dangerous life?’ ‘Fate has forced it upon me. There is no Melton,” was the evading one’s destiny, reply. “* Fate has certainly been most cruel to you.” “Far more than you can ever know, Miss Melton; I have been cursed by Fate.” The man spoke with so much bitterness, and his tones were so deep and strarige, that Florence ; but, after a moment she added: “Do not think me idly curious, but does the wild life a lead here serve to drown bitter memories?” f . “Miss Melton, the bitter memories of my past can never, be banished—they are before me by day and by sp nek but in the life I lead Iam a stern duty; I am fulfilling a vow made to myself, and if my hand is turned with pms 4 intent against my fellow-men, it is _be- cause I have found them more cruel to me than ke he lifted the maiden | rty?” asked Tennessee | mide a the | | sented to you,” said Judge ba. the red savage of the wilderness, or the wild beast of the prairie and mountain—it is because Il havea wrong to wipe out—a wrong such as few men have suffered and lived—that I lead the life I do; but see, I fear that dashing Dick of Denver has made known what has occurred, for the ple seem turning out en masse'to receive us. am sorry for your sake, Next time do not be’ so reckless as to venture out alone.” ‘“‘T willobey you. I shall never forgive my- self for the trouble I have caused you; but, Mr. Tarleton, let us be friends. We move to-mor- row, and I wish you to come and see us, fcr papa will gladly welcome you.” “*T will come, if you wish it,” and the two drew rein before the hotel, where a wild shout of joy was raised, as Florence sprung into the arms of ber father. ‘**Oh, my daughter, how could you?” ‘Don’t scold, papa; I know it was imprudent, and I have had a lesson; I will not be rash an* more; but there is Mr. Tarleton, sir.” ‘Tarleton, when you know what it is to hx peli up in one being, and see that one res- cued from deadliest peril, you will know how to feel toward one who serves her, as I do toward ou. Icannot say more now,” and Major Mel m’s voice trembled as he grasped the hand Dead Shot. ‘* Permit me to offer Miss Melton my warmest congratulations,” said the soft voice of Car Kenyon, and yet Florence shuddered as shi took the = hs pee hand. ‘*Mr. Tarleton, Mr. Searon desires to he pre WV olf, Dead Shot merely bowed at the introduction, failing to see the balf-extended hand of Car‘ Kenyon, who said pleasantly: “Tam glad to know Mr, Parleton. His won: derful exploits are gaining him a great name throughcut the country.” : Dead Shot again merely bowed, and passed o7 to his 1com; it was evident that he did not like Carl Kenyon, or that he had some cause for wishing to avoid him. So thought the keen sighted Judge Wolf, and also Florence Melton. both of whom saw the angry flush upon the faci of the man who had been treated so cavalierly by the Gold Bullet Sport. In half an hour Dead Shot came down to tha office of the hotel, dressed elegantly in & suit 0: ray cloth, but, as upon all occasions, wearin is pants in his boot-tops, and going as thougt a for the saddle, with spurs and riding whip. r “Judge, have the boys come in yet with tb bodies of the Angels?” he asked, indifferently. ‘‘Not yet, Tarleton.” “Then I shall have time to get some supper Would you and the major like to go with me ti the E 10, U. 8, to get my money from Red Tur ner “Yes, we both spoke of it, and so did Mr Kenyon. By the way, Tarletcn, have you any thing against that man?” ‘*Mr. Kenyon and myself have met before. One of these days I will refresh his memory a: to when and where,” was the quiet reply, as Dead Shot passed into the upper room. Half an bour after, accompanied by the judge while Carl Kenyon went with Major Melton Dead Shot set out for the X. 10. U. & Seloor whither his allies, with the dead “‘ Angels,” al- ready had preceded them. Upon entering, the crowd arose as by commor consent, and gave three cheers for the Gold Bul t Sport, who, in response, made one of the ortest and best speeches on record; he said: “Gentlemen, ste m3 and take a drink!” Then, turning to Red Turner, he continued: ‘Mr. Turner, the money I have won im my bet with the Queen of the departed Ange) Quar tette, I leave, with my own stake, in the Eand: of yourself, Judge Wolf, and Major Melton, t« go as a fund to aid destitute and deservin;, miners in Central City; and the rewards offered for these four men, as: members of the band of Captain Satan, known as the Knights of tho Overland, I commission you three gentlemen t« draw, in my name, and devote to the same pur e, for many a poor miner bas been robbed by ose cruel renegades of the mountains.” ‘Permit me, as a stranger to your town, but one who is interested in its mines, to donate a thousand dollars to the same fund,” and Car] Kenyon placed that sum upon the bar, while a cheer from the crowd also greeted him as well as Dead Shot, for all were surprised by his great eo j But Judge Wolf noticed a strange look upon the face of the Sport, and Carl Kenyon also ob- served it, and bit his lip viciously, the latter act not eT the keen-eyed judge. ‘** Hold on, pards!” and Tennessee Pete, Dick of Denver, and the Red Snake, whose absence Tarleton had already observed, as he glanced searchingly over the room, staggered into the door, bearing upon their shoulders heavy ob- jects, which all knew at once to be dead bodies —and bodies, too, just exhumed from the gam for they were coated with freshly dug earth. es Se Bo their ghastly burdens beside the four dead ‘‘ Angels,” Tennessee Pete, shaking the mud and dirt from him, excitedly : “See heur, pards! we've bin on a
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ee | SE tour, an’ turned inter a committee o’ three ter be body-snatchers, an’ thar is ther result. ‘‘ Seein’ as how we c’u’dn’t find bullit marks on them four gerloots, nor knife-thrus’ nuther, we jist put this intelligent Injun on ther scent, an’ thar is our diskivery. tells yer, gents, that Injun are some—he are a whole team an’ a hoss ter let, an’ a whopper-jawed bull-dog un- der the waggin, you bet, fer he run them dead Angils ter ground in half a’ hour, an’ we dug ‘em up for the eddification o’ these assembled gents. I tell yer, pilgrims, I hev kep’ up a devil ’ a thinkin’ iver sin’ I see them roosters go un- ‘ler, an’ then see’em peradin’ ther streets ther next day as big as life. ‘Sez I ter myself, sez I, thar’s some under- uanded wcrk heur, an’ I went ter work ter see what I could diskiver. “*T don’t say much, gents, but ‘lets corn-ceal- mens, like er wurrum in ther bud, feed on my dam-aged cbeek,’—an’ I has considerable—an’ thar’s ther result—seven Angils allas like as two pate o’ red pepper, ’specially in the’r black nearts, kase them three has ther red masks in ther peeaene as well as Vothers. Hurray. fer ther Gold Bullit Sport!” The cheer was again and ee repeated, and in the confusion Dead Shot, Major Melton and vor lh pudge slipped out, and returned to the otel. Carl Kenyon remained at the X. 10. U. 8. Sa- loon, and when last seen by Tarleton was in close conversation with Red Snake, the Chey- enne. CHAPTER XVIII. A NEW ARRIVAL. SEVERAL days passed away quietly at Central City, that is, quietly for that time of adventure, #nd Dead Shot, who appeared but little in pub- lic, had become the general theme of conversa- tion at all the saloons and hotels, and his popu- larity increased with his notoriety. For some reasons best known to himself, he 1ad not taken forcible possession of the Dead- nan’s Mine. Perhaps it was because the colonel had not yet returned, being detained in Denver on business—so he wrote to Judge Wolf; but sach day the Sport paid a visit to the mine, and such night passed a short while in the X. 10. U. $ Saloon, where he was always greeted with pheasure by its frequenters. j Tae Central City House, in the meantime, had lost two of its guests—Major Melton and his daughter, who had removed to their lately-pur- chased home; but it still retained Carl Kenyon, who seemed in no hurry to depart, though his business in town none, excepting the major, was avequainted with. he fourth day after the killing of the Quar- twtte, several important affairs agitated the lit- tle mining town. First, the Gold Bullet Sport had disappeared mysteriously the night before, aad there were some who whispered their opin- ions that he had been foully dealt with, by some secret member of the Knights’ band, while others thought be was off on some mission of which they would doubtiess soon learn, and this idea gained ground, as it was observed that Dick of Denver and his pard, the Cheyenne phat beim Ike and Buckskin Ben could not be oun A second piece of news was that Dan Smith’s toach had been again attacked and robbed—this time on its way to Denver, and at the Devil’s Gate; but the worst of it was that the express- agent, Mert Denison, had been on the stage, an was relieved of some fifty thousand in onli an his life besides. Central City was therefore on the qui vive for the return of Dan Smith, to learn the exact truth of the unfortunate affair, und there was talk of mustering the Vigilantes, to clear the roads of Captain Satan and his Knights. The third event of importance was the return of Dan Smith, who drew rein before the Central City House, and saluted Judge Wolf, as though he had not passed throuzh a desperate adven- ture on his outward bound 2 “Ts it true, Dan?” yelled a dozen voices. “Ts what true, gents? If it’s whether I want ret ter treat me, I answer yes,” was the provok- ng, sep ly. ; About Mert Denison’s having passed in his pono an’ ther gold besides,” asked one of the crowd. ‘Yer may gamble on it.. Judge, thar is one pilgrim fer yer hash-factory—a youth o’ tender years, as has not his nuss with him,” and as Judge Wolf ushered the passenger into the ho- tel, Dan gave the horses in care of the atten- dants, and continued: “Yas, Capt’in Satan an’ his Knights rer f in at Devil’s Gate, an’ it was no use—Mert ter let go his hold on life, an’ then they got ther gold. e fou’t well for it, tho’, boys, an’ died with his boots on, as game as a rooster with gaits. r ‘* Waal, they throwed me in a leetle good ad- vice, which I tuk with a thank ye, an’ passed on; but ther best o’ it all war ther ole gent as comed down with ther extra, ther day Dead Shot war with me, an’ who sold his to r major.” “Oh Lora! but he were skeered ont o’ his genses, an’ he swore he’d never leave Denver Gold Bullet Sport. : | ag’in. It war a lucky thing fer him he sent his dust on by letter, or they’d ’a’ bad it all, durn em ‘* Did yer see ’em on ther back track?” “Nary! We b’iled right through. Now, Lis dry, fer I’ve had nothin’ sin’ leavin’ Lem Flow- ers’s at Golden City, kase ther young feller as | comed over inside don’t carry his p’izen, an’ luks as tho’ it hadn’t been lony sin’ his mammy | let upon ther bottle with him—he is so tender- lookin’.” The object of Dan Smith’s last remarks had gone into the hotel, and been shown to his room, whither Sling Rum had carried a large trunk, seemingly well-filled. He was apparently not more than eighteen, though he looked older on account of a slight mustache he wore. His face was as handsome as a woman’s, and | though bronzed by the sun, bore a striking re- semblance to Violet Markham—so much so, in fact, that Judge Wolf mentally swore that it was her brother, and a twin at that. He was well-dressed, of slender form, under the average hight of men, and his hair curled in short ringlets over his head. He was certainly a remarkably handsome youth; but, in spite of his womanly face, there were fearlessness and resolution in it beyond his ears. ‘i In a bold, round hand upon the hotel register | » a a his name as “‘ V. La Coste, New ork.” Having refreshed himself by a visit to his room, the youth descended to the office and called Judge Wolf aside. ‘T have come to your town, sir, upon an im- portant duty, and perhaps you can aid me,” he said, in a pleasant way that at once won the judge in his favor. “In any way I can serve you, my young | friend, command me.” ‘“‘T thank you, sir, I have been, for a year in search of a person whom I have at last tracked to Central City; his name is Hugh Lambert.” Perhaps Judge Wolf started, for the youth | quickly said: ‘** Do not tell me that harm has befallen him?’ | “What is he to you, allow me to first ask— that is, is he a near relative?’ ‘* He is as dear to me as a brother would be, Ihave sought him for so long, and much de- a upon my finding him; but your manner | eads me to dread evil,” and the youth spoke. earnestly, while his face was very —_ ‘*T will tell you all I know about him, and that is about as much as any one here knows. He came here about a year ago, from some other mining district, and he has been exceedingly un- fortunate ever since his arrival, until the boys say he Was nearl ae 7 a Hugh!” came m the lips of the outh. : 3 ‘‘ About a week ago he came into town and attended a concert, given by the boys, as a bene- fit to a young lady who*had arrived here, and had been robbed on the way by the Knights of the Overland, and who, permit me to say, Mr. La Coste, was the very image of yourself.’ “cc Of me !? : “Yes, were she your twin sister, the likeness could not be greater,” and the judge looked searchingly at the youth. . ‘* Strange, for I have neither sister or brother,” said La Coste, — The judge looked disappointed, and the youth said: ‘* But you were speaking of Mr. Lambert.” “Yes; it seems he attended this concert, and when the basket was passed round for the dust for the young lady, he seemed strangely bewil- dered, and, having no money, threw in a gold miniature, studded wih diamonds—a most costly affair, by the way, and it proved to be a perfect likeness of the lady to whom he gave it.” ** What! a likeness of the one who was robbed and looks like me?” asked the youth, in great surprise. ‘* Yes, Mr. La Coste, and then he rushed from the theater, and since then he has not been seen.” = ‘Great Heaven! I cannot understand all this that_you tell me. Where is the lady now?” “She went in search of Hugh bert the following morning and was captured by Captain Satan. Since then she has not been heard from, and she is believed to be at the retreat of the Knights in Guy’s Mountain, and held for ransom. Our citizens have been waiting to receive word | from her—as the Knights allow that—before / pear Sop for her rescue.” $ this is most marvelous, sir; but what was her name?” _ ‘“‘Markham—Miss Violet Markham, and she registered from New York.” ‘Strange, very strange; and Mr. Lambert | has not been since seen?” ‘* No, not since he went away that night.” - “What motive had she, this woman, in follow- | ing him; do you know?” ‘ To discover, I believe, how he came in pos- session of her miniature.” ‘*And no one knows whither Lambert has e?? | ea is eoned sin—nay, Tam almost certain | as ‘‘God in heaven! do not say that, sir—per- ished! How could he perish?’ and the youth was as white as a corpse. “lt was the night of the fearful snow-storm, and upon leaving the theater he started at once for his cabin, miles away, by the road, in the mountains.” “No, no, no, he must yet live—he cannot have died,” and an expression of intense suffer- ing d over the youth’s face. ‘The chances are terribly against him, I am sorry to say, Mr. La Coste; it was a fearful storm; he was not too thickly clad. His cabin was found empty by the guide who conducted Miss Markham to the spot, and—” ‘*Go on, sir.” *‘T terribly fear that he is dead.” o~ youth was silent a moment; then he asked, qu ckly: $s Where is that guide, sir?” ‘He left town last night; I do not know how long he will be away.” ‘* Well, I must find some one who knows the cabin—in fact, 1 must find Hugh Lambert, dead, these warm days are melting the snows ~ and his. body will be discovered: if not dead, why, I shail find him, for I will give five thou- sand dollars to the one who brings me informa- tion of him, dead or alive.” Judge Wolf looked with surprise at the youth before him. What urgent motive could he have in finding the lost young miner? ‘*Did you hear my offer, sir?’ ‘“* Yes, and it is most generous; I will to-night visit the different saloons and let the boys know, and one way or another, that is, good or bad, you will soon get news of your friend,” ‘‘In the meantime can you tell me of a relia- ae gue with whom to make the search my- se ‘I will look up some one for you by night, sir. Three men, a one of whom would bea host in himself, left last night fora trip of a few _ days, and one of them, by the way, is the guide who led Miss Markham to the cab’n of Lambert. Ah! there goes a person who knew Lambert, and who can give you as much information as any one whom to get for a guide. In he of the strange costume, it. is a woman, . La Coste; her name is Calamity Kate; shall I send after her?” ‘‘ No; I will myself follow and overtake her,” and the pe amge left the hotel in pursuit of Ca- lamity Kate, who, with a bundle of groceries in her arms, was walking briskly along in the di- rection of her isolated cabin. That night the new arrival at the Central City House, his generous offer, and the object of his coming to town, were the topie of conver- sation in all the saloons, and many a miner de- termined to drop his pick upon the following day, and endeavor to earn the five thousand by finding Hugh Lambert, dead or alive. CHAPTER XIX. CARL KENYON OFFERS A COMPROMISE, FLORENCE MELTON sat in the pleasant: little sitting-room of her new home, which kad al- ready assumed an air of comfort, for it was the finest house in town, aud the former owner had made some pretensions to ‘‘ style,” in the. build- ings and in beautifying thetwoacres of grounds that comprised the place. A fine view of the town and valley, with the mountains in the distance, was visible from the piazza, and Florence with her riding-horse, gui- tar, household duties, foiiows and embroide not to talk of a good library, felt that she could make herself comfogtable and contented, for the time her father expected to be a resident of Central City. Suddenly a step was heard on the piazza, and the maiden glanced up quickly from her book, while a look of disappointment crept over her. face as she beheld one wkom she did. not like, in the place of one whom she had hoped it was, It was Carl Kenyon who had come that plea- sant spring morning to the cottage, and. her fa- ther being absent in the town, Florence was forced to receive the visitor, She greeted h sitting-room, and for the hour that p seed, ere the entrance of the major, entertained bim, as best she could, at his request singing for him, and she possessed an exquisite voice, showing him her paintings and sketches, and she aS nO mean artist by any means, while the conversa- tion drifted from general topics, upon music, art, travels and other themes that go to make up society talk, until the maiden was surprised at the knowledge shown by her visitor, and found him a most agreeable companion, indeed ; ps acre was a lack of sincerity about him, she thought. As for Carl Kenyon he was perfectly charmed with the beautiful ; 1, and peule up his mind that be would win for her a wife. _, When Major Melton returned and gave bis items of news, gleaned at the hotel—that, Dead Shot was still absent, Dan Smith hed cerried over another box of gold, which it was fevred would fall into the hands of the Knight® of the Overland, and that the youth, La Coste, bud not beem seen since the day Lefore, when be left for quietly, asked him into the * =
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- owner of the mine. the cabin of Calamity Kate, who was also miss- ing—Florence arose and left the room, and the major and his visitor were alone. ‘Well, major, I have thoroughly looked over the mine, and its possibilities are far beyond what I believed. It is easily worth twenty thousand a year for a number of years; do you not think so?” “I do, Mr. Kenyon. I looked thoroughly into the matter, and it is a valuable property at far more than the sum I paid for it. Your friend Keene certainly defrauded me out of a very handsome fortune. Why, in five years, I could become a millionaire with the Grizzly Mine,” declared the major, sadly. “True, sir, and no one more than myself can t the most unlucky termination to your- self. I have not spoken of the matter, and hope you have not,” said Carl Kenyon, kindly. No, git have not—not even to my daugh- r chi ter d.” al Hajor Melton, to run that mine properly it should have a manager of ability, and such I believe you to be;'the position is.open to you, sir ” “‘T am more than thankful, sir, and stern ne- cessity compels me to accept your generous of- fer—can I ask what would be the salary?” ‘“‘ Twelve hundred a year and five per cent. of I know not ‘“Major Melton,” and Carl Kenyon seemed embarrassed: ‘‘Major Melton, it is a matter upon which I should perhaps not speak, know- ou as I have so shor ' ra but as it deeply affects my happiness I must do so. » ‘How you are pledged, as rogers your daughter’s hand, or whether her atfections are otherwise 6 I cannot of course know, nor do I wish to appear to offer to purchase either her favor or yours; but, from my first meeting with her, I have been deeply in- terested in her, until now I feel that she is dearer to me than all else in the world. “Tama stranger to you, sir, but I am well- born, have received a college education, and the Grizzly Mine is not one tenth of my possessions; but, sir, if I may be so bold as to offer myself as your daughter’s suitor, we can easily com- romisé this matter, I will turn the deeds over b you, and you shall be in full control, the Have I offended you, Ma- jor Melton?” rer Melton was completely taken aback, and, it may be said, pleasantly so, for from the very depths of despair he was raised to the sev- enth heaven of delight. He had liked Carl Kenyon from the first; that he had been reared a gentleman was evi- dent, and that he was very rich he had also reason to believe. He was handsome, elegant, wealthy, played a surpassiugly good game of sara and would linger over his wine at table as long as any good company remained—all good traits in the military eyes of the major. _ Yes, he would give up bis idea of marrying Florence to a prince, duke or count, as the case might be, and let this fine fellow with the plea- sant-sounding name have her, and together the three would make the tour of old England and Europe. Rlorende was not engaged, and what could there be pleasanter than this arrangement, thought the major. - ‘‘Mr. Kenyon,” the pales began, slowly, ‘thow can a father b> offe when an honor- able man asks for his daughter’s hand? ; “Jt is sudden, sir, and takes me by surprise, as it doubfless will Florence; but I will consider your request in a favorable light myself, and so lace the matter before my daughter that I Paink will gain her consent; for the rest it de- upon you. Dine with us at three and you “shall have your answer.” 7 eyes bi tape Kenyon gleamed strangely, and he arose to go, saying: “TY thank he ge bey and I will be.on hand at three s . Remember, if Miss Melton ac- cepts my offer, I settle upon you the Grizzly Mine and ten thousand in cash upon your aA pst t erous, sir, for, exceptin ou are most gen , sir, for, ¢ this house and a fee bundued dollars in bank, am no./ niless—no, I have a claim south of here, but it is absolutely worthless, I may say, as it pays me a mere pittance.” * many claims are worthless, where we expsct fortunes from them. Is any one work- your claim?” ‘Yes, an old eye formerly a sergeant under me—a reliable old fellow, who barely gets his bread out the claim.” , Carl Kenyon said no more, and took his de- ure, while Florence entered the room as he . and, the doors ty nee © or to request The maiden was very pale, my wee was : of scorn. . "Yes: ‘he is a fine fellow, rich, handsome, dicgaat la and-—” ’ inanners, ‘*Well, yes, Florence, I really do. ou are not engaged?’ ‘No, ‘« Not in love?” ‘““Who should I love, papa?” and the eyes drooped and face flushed; but the major set that down to maidenly modesty in being questioned upon love matters. ‘*True, who should you? Then you will marry mt ?” ‘There is a reason why I should, papa, and I insist upon knowing it. I heard some talk about your getting twelve hundred a year and five per cent. of profits, as manager, when I believed you the owner of the mine, and thenof your oming proprietor in toto of the Grizzly Mine, if Carl Kenyon could become master of my heart and hand; what does it all mean, papa dear?” ‘In plain words, Florence, I have been de- frauded—tricked by the man to whom I paid my money for the Grizzly. He was the dis- charged manager—a Carleton Keene, who play- ed Carl Kenyon, and he had not a dollar in the mine.” ‘“Too bad, papa, for you are forty years of age now.” ‘Thirty-nine and seven months, Florence; I married your mother before I was twenty-one you know,” corrected the major, who really did not look his age, and was handsome enough to be taken for the husband, or brother, of Florence rather than her father. ‘‘ Well, sir, you are old enough to live on what you have made, and not to have to work for others at your time of life.” ‘‘Gospel truth, Florry, and if you marry Kenyon all will go well; he has been most gen- erous, offered me the management at a fair salary, and—” ‘*But could you not catch the man who de- frauded you?” ** Yes, dig up his body. He lost all his money at the gaming-table and then killed himself.” ‘A just, yet terrible retribution; and if I hare 3 Carl Kenyon, you get the Grizzly Mine?” ‘* Yes, as sole proprietor, and you get ten thousand dollars cash in pin-money; then, as soon as we get matters to pauning out well in the mines, we will all go to Europe. Who knows but that I may catch a princess, or a countess there?’ and this idea flashed through the major’s mind like an inspiration. “Father,” and Florence spoke in earnest tones, while her voice trembled, and eyes filled with tears, ‘‘ Father, to save you, toadd to your begpinete 45 of late I have seen that some ter- rible trouble has mn get Me down—I offer my- self for the sacrifice; I will marry Carl Kenyon, any time he may desire after one month from a ‘‘God bless you, Florence! If you loved an- other I would not ask it, or if Carl] Kenyon was other than he is; but I believe he will make you a loving and devoted husband. My little Florry, you have taken the iron out of my soul.” Three hours after Carl Kenyon learned that Fate had so decreed that Florence Melton was to become his wife: but— “There’s many a -_ *T wixt the cup and the lip.” CHAPTER XX. STRIKING IT RICH. READER, have you forgotten unfortunate Hugh Lambert? I ope not, for itis of that young miner that I would pees in this chapter. U that night of storm, when he had fled half-starved, from Central City, and half-crazed at the memories of the past, brought u he the sight of Violet Markham, he had wande: out of his path homeward, and it was well for him that he had done so for at bis cabin was no food, and only dreary desolation awaited him. Reckless of life, he had met the huge grizzly bear in the moyntains, and with a desperation born of the recklessness of d had fought a brave fight, until wounded, bleeding, and as he ae believed, dying, the two fell together into a eep pit. it was a sink-hole, almost @ natural well in the rocks, and across its mouth had grown light vines, now filled in with drifted snow until it lgolvod like a firm foundation, in the blinding rm, . ‘ _ The bear went first, and Hugh Lambert, cling- ing to his hairy : adown the forty feet which they fell. What life the bear had in him was knocked out by the shock as he struck the rocks, and his huge hody well broke the fall of the miner, yet he was unconscious when he struck the bottom. How long he lay there Hugh Lambert. never knew; but at last he returned to conscionsness, is ge pendulum of life came swinging slowly At first his mind was bewildered; but after awhile his thoughts returned clearly ; he was in hide. was dragged with him |: 15 total darkness; above him howled the storm anid moaned the pines; around him were rocl’y walls, and beneath him the body of the berr. stone dead and now cold. He was also frozen, and attempted to dréer the blanket, that still hung to his shoulde: \, closer about him; but it was frozen stiff. ‘Great God, where am I? Have I found a tomb in which to die?” he murmured, and for « time gave himself up to despair. But then, the desire of life came strongly bac k to him; he felt that he was not dangerous! wounded, and that no bones were broken. The cold had stopped the bleeding, made by th claws of the bear, in arms, breast and head, ar t — came to him. hen he remembered that he had some match‘ ¢ in a tin box in his pocket, and these were aton * brought into requisition. They ignited, and dry leaves, twigs, nay, sow t good-sized branches of trees were in the well-li] pit in which he found himself, Quickly he had a cheerful fire burning, an |} crouched close te it to get warm, while his cloth: | and blanket rapidly dried, dnd a steam aro ¢ from the hairy monster near him. He saw that he was in a sink-hole, some te!: feet square, and with smooth walls of rock rua ning up as far as he could see; how deep it was he could not conjecture; but, just above his head was a cavern-like opening some three feet in diameter. Where it led to he had no means of knowing. With returning bodily comfort, he became hungry once more, and in the twinkling of an eye set to work to get food. ; Skillfully, with his keen knife, he began to skin the bear, and in an hour’s time had the splendid hairy robe hanging before the fire, while he toasted aes slices of the juicy meat upon a sharpened stick. Observing that he had not a ve quan- tity of wood, and not knowing how long he would have to remain imprisoned, he cooked a e quantity of food, and then, throwing bitn- self upon the bear-skin, and folding his b et around him, he sunk to sleep. When he awoke a dim light came down from above into his prison, for such it was, and he was stiff and sore, and weak from loss of blood, for the heat had caused his wounds to reopen. » Quickly he dressed them as best he could, ate some snow, drifted down in one corner, to quencl thirst, and then took what food he craved, after which be set to work to see if it was possible fo" him to extricate himself from his perilous pos’- tion. Rekindling the fire, he dragged himself up, by standing upon his main support, old grizzly, to the cavern-like entrance, and observed a glimme? of light within. Entering, he crept upon hands and knees fo: some thirty feet, and came out into a canyon, ii gorge; but there he was compelled to stop, fo’ thg precipitous sides were beyond his reach, an j the rocks were smooth and mye mo A waterfall rushed through the gorge, fallin; from the rocks above, and here and there we heaped bt RO en oe | of brush that would serv: as fuel. 'y be would not freeze or starve f+ long as his wood and bear-meat lasted. But was he to remain there to die? Could h: not plan some means of escape? If not, he sure ly must die. Suddenly he started, gazed an instant, an: then falling upon his knees, grabbed up a doubl« handful of earth from the stream. One glance at it, and a shriek so long, so loud. broke from his lips, that one hearing woul: have believed it the ery of a wild t in agony. Gold gold! precious, shining gold! beauti- oO. ful gold! “Oh, how I love gold! See, I have handful: of it! No, I have hatfuls of it! See, 1 fill my hat, and here lie thousands and thousands oj dollars more.” Eagerly he grabbed up the frozen dirt, teur- ing his finger-nails to the quick, and staining the precious yellow metal] with his blood. But little he cared, for he had the “gold fe- ver”—the ‘‘ yellow fever,” and had any one come there then and found him, he would have sprung like a tiger upon him to rend out his life, for when just seized with the gold fever, taving found a rich claim, aman goes mad—as surely mad as was ever a crazed being in a mad-bouse, For a long time did Hugh Patndtores strugg]« and tear up the earth, heavy with gold, and then, wholly exhausted, and his wounds recpen- ing with his wild exertions, he fell over & swoon. When he again became conscious it was night, and he was weak, suffering and ill; but, wit). great difficulty he managed to ignite some of the dryest brush, and soon had a good fire, in _the light of which the gold reflected mellow | Tays. ’ ) But his yellow fever had subsided, and he was | now calm, and able to think of his good fortune, | and also to remember his bad, for he was im- prisoned in the midst of wealth; perhaps he might die there, in that golden retreat, and the stony walls would only hurl back in his teeth his cries for help, and forever surround his bores as a rocky tomb, /
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———————————_—_=____ ‘“‘T hc v> but one course to pursue, and that is to gain strength here, and then make a desper- ate effort to escape; moreover, I must do the amount of work required to make this claim my own, in case I should get out of this dungeon of | despair,” he said to himself, and he bathed and redressed his wounds, collected enough brush to keep up a constant fire, an crawling back to the pit into which he had fallen, he cut off a sufficient quantity of juicy meat to last him for several days; then he again sought sleep, and awoke refreshed, after a long and unbroken slumber. As s'rength returned to him, he went to work with his knife, and dug deep into the earth, turning up the rich gold with every stroke of the blade, and occasionally finding a ‘* pocket,” in each one of which was a small fortune. Having done the “reasonable amount of work” on his claim, he set about plotting some means of escape. A thorough investigation proved to him that he could neither scale the walls of the pit or the canyon—the former was over forty feet deep, and the sides as’ smooth as glass, and the latter was a mere gorge between high walls, over seventy feet in bight, and impossible to scale; while the little brook tumbled into the upper end of the gulch over a shelf far above human reach, and found exit by another fall, which he dare not approach near enough to look over; but the roar of the water proved that it was a long way to where the rushing stream struck the rocks below. Upon one side of the gorge, nearly fifty feet from where he stood, was a clump of small, stunted pines, one of them leaning a yard and a half over the chasm. “There is my only chance. If I can gain that clump of timber, I can easily reach the top,” he muttered, and at once set to work with energy to make the means with which to reach the stunted pines. Cutting blanket into strings, he tied the ends together, and then fastened to it a stone which he felt he could throw over the leaning pine. Effort after effort he made without success, and at last sat down exhausted, as night-sha- dows threw his retreat in gloom. But with the morning he was again at work, to in the end meet with success; the stone went over the pine, and its weight drew the line after it until he held both ends in his hands. Then he again set to work and cut the bear- skin into long aly: which he braided securely together, until he had a rope that would hold up thrice its weight. But the night came on in, and he awaited fordaylight to come, and fastening his bear-skin rope to his blanket string he dragged it over the pine. Now he was all exvitement, for would the pine hold him up, or would it yield under his weit and come tumbling down upun his . By. degrees he tested it, and a shout of joy broke front his lips as he swung from the ground and began to climb hand-over-hand up the rope. : For ten feet he went on rapidly, and then his strength gave out; he was weaker than he had thought, and he could not place one hand above another. A moment he clung with the energy of de- spair, and then the hands could clasp no longer, and with a frenzied shriek at his accursed luck _ he fell back upon the gold-dotted earth, How long he lay there he knew not; but when at last his eyes painfully opened, he started with a es of joy. A form was swinging be- tween earth and sky, and, hand-ander-beat de- scending the rope. With eager eyes he watched the descent, and then half arose as the form touched the ground, while from his lips broke the fervent cry: “ God bless you, Calumity Kate !” CHAPTER XXI. AN AWFUL DOOM. Ir was after sunset ero Carl Kenyon took his de frora the home of Major Melton, and then he walked rapidly back to the hotel and ordered a horse saddled, as he wished to ride out to the Grizzly Mine to see the miner in charge, who it was said was quite ill. Atarapid gallop he passed out of town, and in half an hour drew rein in the wild-looking canyon in which the mine was situated, A few rude buts were visible upon the slopes of the hill and near the entrance to the mine and at one of them Carl Kenyon halted an called out in a loud tone: ‘* Ho! within there!” “Give us yer handle, pard, fer (hese are tick- lish times,” said a voice within. “Tt is I, Frisco Frank.” “ Ay, capt’in; glad ’tis yerself,” and the door opened and a man appeared, whom the moon- = pe showed to be in miner’s dress, and a person of decidedly unpre ing appearance. “Frisco Frank, t wish you to go with me to the Secret Cave, and I may wish to command your services in a way that will pay ‘ou well,” said Carl Kenyon, quietly, and he dismounted and hitched his horse to the corner of the cabin. & SS ee - | the spot where they stood to a shelf Gold Bullet Sport. ‘* All serene, cap’n; I’m i to honey. Shell we ee out now?” answered the man. “Yes. The miner turned and locked his door, and the two set off together up the canyon, disap- pearing in the shadows of the overhanging rocks and pines. A walk of ten minutes brought them to a nar- row and wild gorge, and Pemewn yf up the rugged side of the rock they came where there was a small fissure, into which Fr’isco Frank thrust his hand and drew out two lon les, nailed a foot apart with small pieces o rd; in fact it was nothing more than a foot- bridge, for it was placed across the gulch, ay yond. Over this frail support the two men passed, and entering a split in the rock came upon the entmance to a small cave. ‘‘Goin and bring him out, Frank; I hate to enter the loathsome place,” said Carl Kenyon, and, as his companion entered the cavern, he stood gasing around him upon the _hill-tops. still covered with snow, the dark valleys, and the wild scene nearer by, all lighted up by a moon almost at its full. Presently the clinking of chains was heard, and out from the darkness into the light came Frisco Frank, followed slowly and painfully by a man heavily ironed upon hands and feet. The moon shone brightly into the face of the prisoner, for such he evidently was, displaying a look of intense suffering resting there; he was well dressed, a man of thirty-five perhaps, with brown hair, @ark complexion, and a beard of some days’ growth covering cheeks, chin and upper lip. You ‘can await me yonder, Frank,” said Carl Kenyon, and the miner walked away, while the prisoner sunk down upon the rocks, as though too weak to stand, or use weighed down by the irons upon him. ‘* Well sir, Ihave come to offer you terms. If you accept them, well and good; if not, why your life will be of precious little value to you.” The'voice and manner of Carl Kenyon were stern and cold as he spoke; his tones had lost the softness that seemed habitual to him. “You have no right, sir, to dictate terms to me. Ourcompactof crime was long since at an end, and he whom we both sinned against is in his grave; what have you against me now?” ‘«] will tell you; you, excepting yielding to my bribe to injure another—” ‘Stern want made me do that, as you know and in sackcloth and ashes I have repented it.” ‘“‘ Silence! I say that after I threatened you with exposure, and forced you to fly West, you came here and managed to live an honest life, while I have gone from bad to worse, until I am now—never mind, I am all that is bad, and I hate you for it. ‘““You came here and dug a fair sum out of yonder mine down the valley, and then sold it for as much nfore cash, with which sum te in- tended to return to your old home and enjoy your wealth; but Carleton Keene—” “T have dropped that name; call me by my right one. You know I only assumed a ficti- tious name to keep you from finding me when I came West; but alas! evil spirit that you are you found me after all my precaution, and when I believed myself free of your hated presl ence, I find myself in your power.” “True, and are likely to remain there, unless you accede to my terms. ‘No, I shall call you by your alias, for your own name J bear at present,” sneered the man known to the reader as Carl Kenyon. “In Heaven’s name what do you mean?” gasped the prisoner. “*T will tell you, Carleton Keene; when you sold the Grizzly Mine to Major Melton, you should have at once gone Hast; but no, you needs must run down somewhere to look up an- other claim, and what you there discovered caused you to again fall into my power.” oe mply that a spy upon your move- ments, and he tracked you to Neat old claim, and saw you when be went from there, find ing it worthless, to the claim of Major Melton.” Great God!” ‘You may well be rised, for I know all— know that you found ol t Caleb dyin with fever; that he told you he had lately struc it rich—had found a new lead in the major’s mine that promised to pan out a million or more—in fact, there was no end to the yellow metal to be found there, and he made you swear, toa dying man, to make all this known to Ma- jor Melton; had my spy had the grit, he would ave let the sergeant die, killed you, and bounc- ed the | mine himself; but he idn't have the ‘sand,’ I am glad to say, but came and told me, and thusit was that you found yourself ca) on the way to see the major, and make known to him the joyous news. “Then a glorious idea struck me. Iknew*you were known in your own mine here, as mag its manager, pretending to have purchased it for another party, but that you sold it to Major Melton in your own name, as of course you had a right to do, but as the supposed = ae had never been seen in Central City, it entered my brain to personate him—” “ Oh, you incarnate devil!” “Thank you; yes, [ came into Central City and registered as Carl Kenyon, as soon as I you in my power, and I visited Major Me ton ld him that my manager, Carle Ktene, was dishonest, and that I had discharged |1im, _— knowing all “emgere: the Grizzly Mine, hatin che papers in ion, with maps an drawinas, ho tad perectiaget tha: Cart Rasiron, and sold the valuable LAH te thus defraut ‘ing a major, out of his fifty thousand dol The prisoner was dumb with astonishment, merely raising his manacled hands and shaking them at the man before him. ‘“ Well, this green-horn of an ex-major bit at my bait, nay swallowed it whole, and the resu’t is I have possession of the Grizzly Mine now, ani the major was to have been my manager, hed we not come to a compromise, which was to gi’ ¢ him the mine for his beautiful daughter, a’. other stroke of policy on my part, as she will, + course, inherit the very rich claim which ae t Caleb was working for her father; !u w ave I not played my cards well, and held af 4)’ hand every time?” “You are Satan himself, in the disguise »’ man. ‘ ‘« Again, thank you; now, listen, for I wisk t. have you know how I trumped your ace; as Carl Kenyon I sent to Denver, by the Expres: Agent, and drew out of the the one hundred thousand you had deposited there, of coui se sending all n vouchers and etcetera‘ — was not that splendid?” ‘** And I am a beggar,” groaned the unhap} ) mah, “You are indeed; your whole trip West, :n the mines, thrown away. A great pity; but you have a chance to get all that money back, ai): more too, besides saving your life, if you hav. the wisdom to take my advice.” “Tell me what you wish.” : ss coy 74 to give me all the papers given you by the dying ret tes with the descriptions as to where to dig for the gold, and all partieulart told Bac by Caleb.” “Tf 1 refuse?” “ T will have Fr’isco Frank starve you to death | You know him, and that while hd tn for yo! he was my spy ; he will do as I say.” “Tf I accept your terms?” “ Then you shall have back your one hundre.' thousand, and a fifth as much more, and go fr 4 at once.” ; ‘*T will not trust you.” : “You will have to, if you wish to save yorr life.” ** And you swear to let me go free, and giv the ge to Major Melton?” ‘Yes, when his daughter is my wife.” ‘* What a terrible fate for her, poor girl!” “Tt will be a worse one for you if you do nit do asI wish,” threatened the man known ‘te Carl Kenyon. “ When shall I have pr ponds and go free? “This night. I have gold checks already ma‘& out for the amount for you on New York; bai you must swear to at once leave the min¢x and | never, by word, act, or writing to betr r me. “T will swear; I left the papers with Le» Flowers, at Golden City station. I feared ti bring them with me, as attack was dreaded '7' Captain Satan.” me pg an =o for them.” e give them to you upon the presen{ia tion of this card, and your telling him what y »v wish,” and the prisoner handed the Ace »’ Diamonds, adding: ‘“‘ Lem Flowers has the An, eg bas of the same pack, so as to compa! ' cards. e cula!: ete., and asked him to seek Major make known the good news; but I will fi +4 make the fair Florence my wife. “Now, Carl Kenyon,” and the man spo'ee with the utmost vindictiveness in his tone. * y yy are a fool, for I never would allow you to ¢« free and betray me. “You know too much of my past, should | wish to go East tospend my riches. No, y5a are doomed to die; you have taken your }4:! meal, and had tae last sight of mankind 07. earth. Frisco Frank!” ae “ Ay, ay, boss!” and the burly miner rer4 ‘Take this man back into the cave and iron him, there to die. Do not bring him any more food, and never come here to cave until I tell rg “ All right, cap'n.” . “Do you mean this great crime?” asked the ori As man. . ‘T'do, as you shall know.” Then may God’s everlasting curse be upon = wherever you are—by day, by night—at a)’ es, and in your very ve.® The words were hurled from the lips of the doomed man, and the one upon whom his curse fell seemed to shrink away with a shudder; but ) )
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oo PO SS Teh a ee eee evenness a RE EN SO CS PREIS SOE TT the next moment, with a mocking laugh, he turned away, as Fr’isco Frank bore the prisoner back into the cavern, too heavily ironed, and too weak from confinement in that loathseme hole, to offer any resistance. Ten minutes after, Carl Kenyon, as he isto be | still known to the reader, mounted his horse and galloped back to Central City, leaving Fr’isco Frank in his cabin, counting over his gold-—the blood-money just earned. j CHAPTER XXII. 4 WOMAN’S HATE, WHEN Néolet Mapiham found herself in the wer of Captain Satan and his Knights of the verland, she felt fully the unfortunate situ- ation in which she was placed. ne be, gale she did not so much dread, though from what was said of Captain Satan, she fear- ed him, and she knew that it would takea large sum in gold to ransom her, and though she had sonsiderable in the hands of Judge Wolf, she yet had other uses for that; still, her freedom and safety were worth far more than her money, and she determined to make a liberal offer for her liberty as soon as her captors came to a halt. After a rapid ride of several miles, Captain Satan gave an order to his men, and they drop- ped off, one by one, in directions oblique to that which he stil pursued, and in a short while Violet kbam ~ was ‘alone with her captor; but though she several times essayed conversa- tion, he remained silent, and she was forced to | vease her pease to discover his motives in cap- | turing her. After ai ride of several hours, in which the | horses had been urged on as fast as the snow | vould admit, Captain Satan led the way intoa dvep ravine that ran back into the rugged slopes ot Guy’s Mountain. Up this canyon, which gradually narrowed to } mere passageway between lofty walls of rocks, | aud was a constant ascent as they progressed, | they continued for a couple of miles, when, | through a ott in the rock, the chief of the | Road Knights turned off abruptly to the left, | and the tired steeds were then forced to clamber | up the steep and rough side of the mountain, until they came to a scene of the wildest gran- deur. uge bowlders of rocks were thrown to- | gether as though by the throes of a volcano, and were oa one on the other to immense _hights, until they formed a natural castle of rocks, with hundreds of cavern-chambers, passages, door- ways and windows. From this natural castle, ru yet wonder- ful, a d view could be obtained of the hills and ys for miles around, and of the snow- | covered mountains, from whose foot-hills curled up columns of blue smoke, marking the humble cabins of the miners. Into an arch in the rocks, Captain Satan led the way, and though it darkened as he went on, he rode without hesitation, still leading Violet’s horse by the bridle-rein, as he had ever since he separated is men. A few minutes’ ride in the darkness, and light appeared again, and Violet found herself in a large and vaulted chamber, used as a stable by the Knights, for fully two score of fine steeds were there, and one man, evidently acting as “‘ Look after these horses, Miguel, and saddle my sorrel for me,” said Captain Satan, shortly to the dark-faced Spanish Cal ted as then lifted Violet from her saddle, and led her from the large rocky chamber, into a pas- sugeway, and up rude steps, to a plateau above, «pon which opened several caverns. Here they were met by a young girl—at a ifornian who ac jlance 6 as an and yet with Wse features of a pale-face, and a complexion “.0t as k as a red-skin’s. She was dressed in a costume which many a wealthy city belle would have gone wild over, t» have been able to wear it to a masquerade tie and. fall of qe wormed in comene silk, and falling to her knees—leggings o e finest buckskin, and kid boots, instead of moc- po covering feet that were very small and form closely, and around her waist was a leath- er belt, con __ and small dirk-knife, | hil of silver and gold beads, of pure | as a pea, encircled ber neck, and bands of gold her bare arms, above and be- low the elbows. Her hair hung in two braids down to her knees, and a jaunty hat of gayly-dyed feathers surmounted her head. Her face was beautiful and intelligent, and ber form faultless. Altogether she was a re markable-looking creature to be found there in wild retreat. As she came forward toward Captain Satan and his captive, her eyes fell upon the latter, and there came into them an angry light; but, unpracing this, the chief said: . , go and order two guards stationed at the entrances to this place, where I am to leave this lady a prisoner, and in your for business calls me at once away, to be absent geveral days, perhaps longer. “ Say to them that their lives shall be the for- feit if she escapes.” ‘And what will my punishment, be?” The girl spoke in perfect English, and with a sweet smile, while her voice was rich and soft, ‘* The same fate. Now see to it,” was the al+ most savage retort, The Indian maiden turned quickly away, but Violet Markham saw that her bronze face flushed a deep red, and then turned of a grayish hue; but without another word she walked off to obey the commands of the chief. ‘Here is your home, until you and I come to a fair understanding. It rests with you to say whether you will remain here until your death,” and Captain Satan turned to Violet and spoke in a constrained voice. “You have but to name the price of my ran- som, and if within my power it shall be paid.” ‘Ransom? Woman, no gold on earth could get you from my power; no, my revenge I love too well; but I wish you tosign certain documents | that I will have drawn up, and which will clear me in the eyes of the world, when I return to | my old home in the East.” ‘*You are mistaken, sir, if you deem me able to serve you.” “No, [know you. One witha face as beau- tiful as yours is only met once in a lifetime. Once I loved you madly, and I would have mar- ried you; but you gave up my love to become the wife of a felon, and now I hate you. - _ “That he is dead I know—and I believed you in your grave, until I saw you last night at Langrish’s Theater.” “You are certainly mad. Upon my honor as a woman, I never saw you before.” ““Halha!la! Oh, [forget that lam disguised —riow look at me and tremble.” The man removed his disguise of false hair and berd, and along with it thered mask, and Violet Markham pre. posed; but she was certainly a superb actress, if she ever saw the man before, for neither by look nor act did she display the slightest recognition of her captor. ‘You are now, as before, only Captain Satan, | ? the robber chief, to me. “Woman, you lie in your false throat.” “Coward!” and the voice rung as Violet Mark- ham pronounced the word. see if there is upon her bosom. a wound, as though made with a knife.” irl led Violet remember that I shall cut your heart out, girl, and throw it tothe wolves!” and Captain Satan resumed his disguise and mask and left the plateau. A moment after his departure Lalulah—the Maybird—turned to Violet and asked: iad a who are you, and what are you to ‘““My name is Violet Markham: I am an actress, and came to Central City to look up one who fled West to escape ishment for a crime he committed, and whom I desire to find, to learn from him of my parentage, for he alone can tell me. ‘I was robbed yesterday by the Knights of the Overland, and the kind-hearted miners gave | me a benefit—one of them giving a diamond- studded picture of myself, and in searching for him ay at his cabin, Captain Satan made me prisoner and brought me here. Now you know all that I can tell you, and in your kind- ness of heart I know you will aid me to esca —no, no, [ would not have you do that, for I heard his threats against you.” ‘*But he said you had met before—for God’s sake tell me if he spoke the truth?” ‘No, I never saw him before, and his st: words are a mystery to me; from what he sai to be the one he su be a sear u was none.’ ‘‘True; he must be mistaken. I believe you, lady, and—I hate him now.” ‘What can he be to you?” ne h asked it; but Lal soon as she ; but ulah answered quickly, and with deep feeling. ‘He was everything tome. He came among / my poopie and won my love, and though he was of the pale-face race I left them to go with him, for I liked not the red braves of our tribe. “My mother was an Indian, the daughter of the great Cheyenne chief Red Snake; but my father was a white man, a hunter, and he was married to my mother by the rites of our le and lived with our tribe until bis death, a few fsbo ago, and it was through his egplangs tek became superior to the daughters of the braves around me; it was through my love of my fa- ther thai I learned to leve the pale-faces more : Gold Bullet Sport. straight into the face thus ex- | me to be, there should — my m; you saw that there | regretted the question as | than my mother’s people, and left them for that man,” **Poor child, and he is unworthy of you,” said Violet, with sympathy. ‘* He has deceived me; he has never loved me; I was but his toy; and, oh! he is so evil, for he wars against his own race. He is a panegeda: but his wicked life I could forgive, for I loved him, had he not told me of late that he hated me. So be it, for I hate him now, and he shall know Lalulah can hate. He shall not find his fair‘ prisoner here when he returns; and worse, I will lead the soldiers of his race upon his re- treat, for my grandfather, the Red Snake, has only spared him for my sake. ‘In a day or two, ny we will leave this lace, and seek a secure hiding-place I know of in the mountains, until we can reach the miners’ camps.” : ‘“God bless you, my sweet girl! Aid me to fly from here, and ever after you shall be as my sister.” “T am glad, for I have no one in the world to love me, except the Red Snake, and I do not wish to go back to my people. Jam not a red- skin at heart. Now come into the cave, warm yourself by the fire and get some rest, for we will have hard work before us to arrange our plans,” and Lalulah led the way into one of the | caverns, which Violet was surprised to find a — comfortable retreat for a robber strong- old, CHAPTER XXIII. CATCHING A TARTAR. Ir seemed a strange circumstance to many of | the citizens of Central City, thatj after the ve | recent bold robberies by Captain Satan and his | men, Dan Smith should let it be known that le | was again to carry over to Denver a large | quantity of gold expressed to that town. And as the stage and. its six fine borses disa | peared from the town, with only two inside | passengers, both miners, many conjectured that Dan would be ordered to ‘ throw up his | hands” before he got through Devil’s Gate. But that “prince of the reins” cracked his | keen whip over his leaders, and rattled along at a merry pace, a strange twinkle in his bright eyes. | Prognostications do not always turn out as prognosticators desire; but in this case the | growlers of Central City were correct, for at the foot of Guy’s Hill, as the stage rolled slow] along, there suddenly came the steri and s ling order: ‘*Throw up your hands!” Dan Smith quickly brought his horses to a | halt, and up went his hands, as they had on a | number of occasions befcre, while he cried out, . impatiently: © Durn yer all, Knights, this are gittin’ mer- | notenous. Out from the woodside, where they were hid- | den in the underbrush, came five men—all wear- ing red masks, and they were dismounted, | though Dan well knew that their horses were | not distant. Two of the five went to the heads of the horses, and the other three approached the stage, one, who appeared to be the leader, going | upon the right, the other two upon the left. ‘“Who bave you got as passengers, and what booty?” asked the leader, in a stern tone. ‘Ef yer is curious, jist look an’ see, durn yer; yer isn’t any Sunday schule teacher ter ax me catechiz,” said Dan, gruffly. ‘**Look here, Dan Smith, you are getting too free-spoken of late; you'll get a bullet through your brain if you do not keep a more civil tongue in your mouth,” angrily said the Knight. Dan made ro reply, and the roLber opened the stage-door upon one side, as his companions did the other, and never did men meet with greater surprise. Suddenly, and as if by magic, the stage seemed | full of men, for out of each door sprung several forms, and in five seconds the robber leader was | a prisoner and his four men were lying dead in the road, while Dan Smith yelled like an Indian in his delight. A moment after up dashed the two miners who had left Cevtral oi as inside passengers to Denver, and they were leading several horses, ‘¢Guesses as how yer’ve cotched a Tartar this clip, boss,” and Dan shook his whip in the face | of ne leader of the Knights, and then he con- tinued: | “Ah, Dead Shot, my festive friend, ycu isa screamer!” and he turned and wrung the hand of Tarleton, who, with hisallies, had so suddenly turned the tables on the robbers. ‘“‘ Now, men, drag those bodies into the bushes here, and we will see how much this gentleman values his life,” and Dead Shot, with his hand upon the srm of his prisoner, led the way into e pine thicket that bordered the road, ‘‘ Good-by, pards; I’m dumb until J gets back. Luck to yer, all round. I’m blest ef I don’t jine ther church, I are so happy. Git, horses!” and away rolled the coach, Dan Smith stil) laughing loudly at the way in which the Knights had “caught a Tartar.” Peg = Agee et ered pdt » and qi remey trem bis fave,
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~----o_- Ce + -- He was aman of slender form, though ath- jetic, and about forty-five years of age, with iron-gray hair and mustache; his face was i:tel- ligent, stern, not ill-looking, and his eyes black and very piercing. That he was no ordinary man was evident and his dress was better than that of his dead companions, who had been thrown upon the ground before him. “Well, Sir Knight of the Road, I have sworn »o hunt down your band, and we have begun vell,” said Dead Shot, sternly. “Tam not he whom you call Captain Satan,” aid the Knigh , quietly. “Y know that, very well «are the lieuten- int of Captain Satan. The men call you Iron teart, but your real name is Carter Gray.” The man starfed, and his face became very vale; but he made no reply, and Dead Shot con- tinued: “Three years ago you killed a man in Rich- mond, Virginia, and you fled here to escape the allows, for it was a cold-blooded murder. ‘There is a large reward offered for your appre- hension. Do yu wish me to give you up, Car- ler Gray?’ ‘Am Ia foot?” “Oh, no, I cannot accuse you of being a fool, tut I can of being a merciless wretch—one trhose cruelties as a Knight of the Overland tave gained for him the name of the Man with tae Tron heart.” “* How know you this, may I asl?” “From what I personally found out. Do you femember a man of your d known as Cali- fornia Kit?” ‘““Yes; he was with us six months, and then mysteriously ee: we believed him cilled, or captured, as Iron Heart. si California Kit and myself are one and the same. > =} Qa cy J 5 i=} © 3 ) =) =a a S ® = ® 4 — 4 i= ° =) a ‘4 z ‘3 “ I am.” * You are certainly a devil with revolver and knife, from all I have heard. When withus you seemed a mere cipher in the band,” “ T was playing a part then; I am in earnest uow. Do you value life, Carter Gray?” ‘Why ask me?” “Well, do you value it enough to save it by Rr 5 fee your comrades?” | ‘* love my life more than I do theirs; they are nothing to me except as a means of protec- Lion,” said the road-agent. ‘Well said. Now, how many men are at present in the band of Knights?’ ‘* A week or so ago there were twenty-seven afl told, at the retreat, and six on special duty.” ‘Four of those on special duty were known as the Angel Quartette? “Yes, and all are now singing hymns with the Gevil’s choir,” recklessly said Iron Hoart, ‘‘ With three more from the band who joined | them to fill up the vacancies made by death?” | calmly suggested Dead Shot. | * You ought to know; you called for their | rhecks.” | “* Making seven goné,” continued Dead Shot, | without noticing the remark of the Knight, while | Buckskin Ben and the others, oxcepting Red Snake, seemed greatly leccs atall they were learning about the Gold Bullet Sport. ‘* These seven, with one killed at the miner’s cabin in the mountains, six in the attack on Dan ‘$mith’s stage some days ago, and four to-day, ‘educe the band from thirty-three to fifteen; two of these fifteen are now on special duty; Captain Satan is absent somewhere on the road, and you are a prisoner in our hands; this re- ° duces the number to eleven men now at_the Castle of Rocks. Is my arithmetic correct, Iron Heart?’ “ Perfectly ; you are splendid at figures.” “Now, these eleven are at the Castile of Rocks and I depend upon you to help us capture them,’ and Dead Shot looked the man straight in the face. “How can I?” “T will tell you: as an officer you will be obeyed. Go to the retreat and order eight of those men to come with you, upon some excuse or other, and lead them into ambush; if they surrender, well an 1 good; they shall be taken to | Central City for trial; and if they refuse, we — will shoot them down without mercy.” “And I?” “* Will be spared—for you must then go on > with us fo the retreat, and let u: surprise the three men that remain there.” ** And my life will be spared?” ‘Yes, after you have appeared against your confederates in crime.” Then I will be set free and the citizens will | string me up.” No, I pledge you my word you shall be pro- | " “If T refuse to betray the Knights?” | ‘Then I shall send a bullet through your head | where you stand, or take you back to Virginia for trial—as you prefer.” } ; —_. * answered the Knight known | fil | ressponded Iron dian ve a grunt of assent. ‘ 0 ' daughter of the Red Snake, aided her to escape. Gold Bullet Sport. “The Knights must go by the board. [am not anxious to be shot or hung,” and Lron Heart poapoed recklessly. ‘“Well, you.know my terms. Lead on! but mind you, Carter Gray, if you attempt any trickery, I swear you shall be hunted down, and when taken, I will turn you over to this Chey- enne chief to torture you to death as best suits | his pleasure.” The man shuddered. He knew well what | cruelties Indian nature could devise, and he | said: ‘*T shall not fail you; for some time I have thought the Knights had about gotten to the end of their rope, and was thinking of emigrat- ing to new fields.” “Lead on; we await you,” was Dead Shot's stern response, and mounting their horses the party set out, leaving the dead Knights conceal- ed in the bushes. At length Dead Shot balted; they were with- in half a mile of the Castle of ks, and in a gorge, than which a better place for an ambush could not be found. ‘‘T have warned you, Carter Gray; now go!” | The lieutenant of the Knights at once set off on his mission to betray his confederates, and Dead Shot placed his seven men—for the two miners from Central City, and whom Dick of Denver had selected as good men and true, were with them. A half-hour they waited, and then down the hillside was seen a file of horsemen approach- ing, Iron Heart, with a view to self-protection, riding considerably in advance. Slowly they came on, nine in number, the narrow pathway causing them to ride in single 8. Presently they entered the gulch, where the man-hunters lay in ambush, and loud, clear and stern rung the cry: ‘‘Throw up your hands all of you!” The Knights drew rein, some seized their re- volvers, and others turned, as if about to fly, while Iron Heart and several more obeyed the stern command: ‘Hold! or you are dead men!” The three horsemen in the rear of the line heeded not the threatening order, and the next instant they fell dead from their saddles, just as they attempted to dash away. This deadly assault taught the others a lesson, and up went their hands, and five minutes after Dead Shot had his prisoners securely bound. ‘Now, Iron Heart, you have another duty to perform; lead on to the retreat.” The road-agent lieutenant immediately obey- ed, and aloes, | at the Castle of Rocks, and anxious to gain favor with his stern captor, he walked up to the robber guard and deliberately shot him down, for from his officer he e no danger. The next instant Dead Shot and his comrades dashed into the rocky stronghold, and the secret retreat of the Knights of the Overland was in the hands of the Gold Bullet Sport, who at once made his way to the cavern plateau, as the shelf of rock was called, upon which fronted the caves where Captain Satan had his quartersand rua es booty, and where the beautiful Lalulah welt, The booty, in vast quantity, and of great value was there, but aseperion Gaarddd it! ‘‘Where is the Indian girl, Lalulah, and where the lady captive of your chief?’ asked Dead Shot of Iron Heart, whom he had kept with him. “The Indian aided the captive to escape,*for they left two nights ago—how, no one knows, for they did not pass the guard,” indifferentl eart. sf Turning to the Red Snake, Dead Shot said a few words in the Cheyenne tongue, and the In- w, boys, we will spend the night here and you can divide your booty, and to-morrow we will return to Central City,” said Dead Shot. * An’ ther purty leddy?”’ asked Slim Ike. ‘Ts safe, for the Indian girl, whom Captain Satan had here with him, and who is the grand- Boys, you will find plunder enough here to re- ay you, and, as far as we are concerned, it has seen a bloodless victory. “Mr, Gray, you must submit to being bound, but T promise you 7 rotection,” and the Gold Bullet Sport turned to Iron Heart, who yielded with a bad grace. Telling Buckskin Ben to look after the prison- ers, and Dick of Denver to drag the booty from ' the caves, Dead Shot called to the Red Snake and the two walked away together—they would have been better pleased to have found Lalulah and Violet Markham in the Castle of Rocks. CHAPTER XXIV. CALAMITY KATE ON THE TRAIL. FEARING to make himself conspicuous by ad- dressing Calamity Kate in the ublic thorough- vare, the youth, La Coste, followed slowly on after her, until she reached her own isolated cabin near the forks of the road. Kate entered her humble abode and the mo- ment after heard a knock, and beheld the youth as she opened the door, ““My good woman, I have come to ask you to serve me, and pay you libe winning voice. ‘*Come in, sir. The air is still chilly as it comes from the mountains, Now, sir, there is precious little service I can render any one, but what I ¢an do I-will do willingly.” “Thank you,” and as Kate’s eyes were bent searchingly upon him, and there was an ex- pression in her face which } e could not under- stand, the youth went on to say: ‘*T came to your town to find a miner whose name is Hugh Lambert; and Judge Wolf, at the hotel, tells me ill-tidings of him—that is, that he started for his mountain cabin in the storm, some nights ago, and has not since been seen; but I was directed to you as one who could perhaps. give me information regarding him, and I have offered five thousand dollars to find his whereabouts.” Calamity Kate started; then her eyes again wandered searchingly over every feature of the youth’s face, — POS “Young man,” she said, slowly, dropping un- ou may be assured taat I will y,” said La Coste, in his soft, consciously into the dialect of the mines, ‘‘it - are a large sum ter put up fer a man, an’ when ther stakes run high as thet, a feller is ter b’lieve thet Hugh Lambert is wanted somewbar fer reasons thet will git his neck inter a ‘sling. Now, ther young miner war a good friend ter’ me when I war sick arter ther death o’ my—m —hus—arter ther death o’ my man, an’ yer is erent up ther wrong tree ef yer think I is er ther dust yer name.” - , ‘You mistake me, my.good woman; I mean Hugh Lambert no harm, but on the contrary desire to serve him. Iam the best friend be has in the world as will sell ’im out, ef it’s fer twice é and for one year I have sought | him, until I tracked him here, to find that he is- believed to be dead. Tell me that you can find him!” and La Coste 2a beseechingly. Tl tell yer what Pll do.” “ Well?” ‘We will start at once on his trail; he may be dead and he may not; if dead, we will find his body, for the snow is melting fast,” and Calamity Kate left off the dialect she at times affected, and always when talking to th miners. ‘ ‘Are you strong enough to stand a rough tramp?” she continued. sf (es, I can stand anything to learn his fate. “Then we'll go at once. It is some hours before dark. ust you return to the hotel?’ ‘*No; they expect me back, but, never mind.” Kate made no reply, but at once set to work at as. for the expedition. She quickly put into a stout bag what pro- visions they would need, and two flasks of liquor, after which she rol’ed up four blankets in an india-rubber cloth, and secured matches and ammunition about her person, Then she looked to her revolvers and handed one to La Coste, at the same time saying: “ You had better draw on these rough clothes” over yours, for you will need them.” The youth silently obeyed, and then Kate took from over the chimney-board a repeatirg- Hb a a batchet and expressed her readiness epart. ; Dividing the ry between them, they took up their loads and left the cabin. | ; ‘“‘ Now here,” and Kate halted at a spot where the roads again divided, about a mile from her cabin; ‘here you see is where Hugh Lambert Jost himself. Iwas out just after the storm, the mornin ten 2 and I saw tracks in the snow, but they were half-filled up. And this is the road, branching off here, that leads to Hugh’s cabin, but this drift you see acrcess it’ fooled the poor fellow, in the blinding storm, and he went right by and in this path, for the snow was unbroken when I came here, as I told you. ” “He took this road then, as you say; it cer- tainly seems reasonable,” La Coste assented. “Tt could Le no other way, for snow dlways deceives one as to locality, and, from all ac- counts, he was in no mocd to closely watch his’ ‘ath. Now let us strike round into the moun-- ains by this path.” — Slowly the two continued their way Calamity Kate, with great skill, watching every object “that would be likely to turn the wanderer in the storm from his p gore The snow bad settled a great deal; was melt- ing fast, and there had been persons along since the storm; but Kate tock in the situation as it was on that terrible night. Presently she again halted and looked closely about her. : “See here, sir; this spot does not look unlike the road back yonder, where he was to turn off for the mountains, and here is where he struck up the slope. Yes, here are old tracks, made before the snow ceased falling. and nearly oblit- erated.” “You are right; they lead straight up the mountain,” ‘Yes, just as the road back yonder runs. He mechanicaily turned off here, and by force of mere ge up-hill, as he would do if in the right path. “Then you think he has perished?’ wi
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— _ moun - down to yonder clump of | ed Se, r : The question was almost in a whisper. “The chances area hundred to one that he has.” ‘‘ But he may have reached some cabin?” and the youth’s face was very pale. - “No; I will not deceive you; there is no cabin within two miles of this spot, and the further he went up the mountain the more he left hope behind. He was the only one living on this slope of the mountain above the valley, I say, sir, poor Hugh Lambert!” and Calamity Kate spoke with considerable feeling. BIO The youth made no reply, but set his lips firmly, and then, after a few moments’ silence, adie : “* And from here?’ “We will follow this faint track in the snow, and it will tell us the story.” ‘‘ Whether dead or alive?” ‘Whether dead or alive!” ““T am ready.” Again’ the two went on, this time Merny Serr ap the steep hill, and through the are ifts. At length darkness came on, and they were forced to halt for the night; but they found a comparatively comfortable spot under the shelter of a bowlder, and a fire was soon send- ing its ruddy glare out into the darkness, while the two ers sat before it in silence. Soon Calamity Kate rolled herself in her blankets and went to sleep, or pretended to do so, for from the shadow she gazed long and earnestly into the face of the youth, who said it was useless for him to seek rest, and kept his seat befére the fire. But at last tired nature exerted its right, and the youth’s head bent over on the arm that rest- ed upon ibe rock, and he slept ssomapeey & Cautiously Calamity Kate arose and wrap his blankets, which she had furnished him with, around his form, and threw more wood upon the fire; then she aoe crept back to the warmth of her humble bed, and slumber also came to her. The sun was gilding the tree-tops when they awoke, and the fire had burned out, except a few coals; but more wood was thrown on, and the two ate their breakfast of bacon, crackers and coffee, in silence. “T dropped off to sleep last night, I was so tired; it was so kind of you to cover me up,” said the youth. ‘T feared you would take cold. Now let us move on.” ; Again they followed tbe trace in the snow, and after a while Calamity Kate halted suddenly. “There has been a desperate struggle here— see, the ground is stained with blood, but whose?” A moment she watched the traces on the Bir where the snow was trampled down, und then been partially covered over, yet not sufficient to hide the stains when the surface was brushed off. ‘“ Whose?” Calamity Kate again ted, and she sprung forward to the track that met the one they were trailing, and a cry broke from her lips. “What is it?” the youth. “Tt was a tally bear and a large one, from his tracks—ha! here is a sink-hole, and pether they fell into it.” . Both now stood looking down into the pit, the mouth of which was some five feet in diameter, and widened as it went down; but all was dark below a few feet from the top. ‘“*T will cut up my blanket, make a rope, and go down, for it is there.” “ What?” ““The body of Hugh Lambert.” The youth turned his face quickly away, and then a ery broke from his lips: ‘See, there is a smoke!” Both ran toward the spot, some sixty feet away, and came to the brink of a deep chasm in the rocks, through which they could see that a -stream its flood; but that some one was down there they knew by the tell-tale smoke. ‘* Hold this end of my blanket, and I will cree and look over, said Calamity Kate, for the shelving walls of the chasm prevented their seeing down into the bottom of the canyon. : Seizing the blanket by oneend, while the youth let it lengthen gradually, the fearless woman crept down to the pines, which she reached just as a wild shriek came up from the bottom of the canyon. «He is below, and safe.” The words were almost shrieked from the lips of Calamity Kate, and she felt the blanket loosen, and saw the youth fall backward. She did not hesitute now, but or Ney bear-skin rope, swung herself over the brink of the preci- too, to- pice, and descended, hand under hand, to the d of the canyon. A little water in the face, a brisk rubbing of the head and hands, and the — of Hugh Lam- bert opened to behold Calamity Kate bending over him, CHAPTER i ge A STORY OF T ‘ “Gop bl Calamity Kate,” had been wee words of Hugh fable’ when he be- w was preser ver. “Let up on blessin’ me, pard, for I hain’t ther ‘ Gold Bullet Sport. boss 0’ this bilin’; I is only second fiddler in ther dance. ‘You are the first one to reach me, Kate, and I had not I believe I would have died here, for strength to climb out.” sys ‘Tt mout be, but yer has held on ter life like a cat, fer yer has hed a severe rastle with a grizzly, an’ yer hevn’t hed a palice ter live in,” and Calamitv Kate glanced around her. ‘“*Tt is better than the tomb, Kate, and it was a lucky tumble here for me, and shall bea lucky find for you. Kate, look yonder at the gold.” “ Great God! you have struck it rich, Hugh Lambert; but stay here, for I have a friend to bring to see you,” and in her earnestness she drop her slang way of speaking. “No, Kate; I will share with you, but with none other. This is our secret.” “Very well, and I thank you; but I'll soon come down again,” and Kate went up the rope with astonishing dexterity. As she had feared, she found that the youth had fainted; but he quickl:7 revived when she forced some liquor into his mouth. ‘* He is saved, you say?” he asked eagerly. “Yes, and almost as good as before. Can you climb down a rope?” “Then come; let us first lower the traps, for we will have to stay several days in the canyon, until Lambert is strong enough to get out with our assistance, for he is weak.” **7 will run back to town, and—” ‘No you won’t! He don’t want a gang after him, for he has found a gold-mine.” ** A gold-mine?” “Yes, rich and rare. Down goes our lug- gage!” and Kate lowered the traps and rifle. ** All right, Kate! Now come down yourself,” cried the rich voice of Hugh+ Lambert from below, and the youth’s face paled and flushed by turns, while he trembled violently. “T fear you cannot go down,” said Kate, kindly. ‘“Yes,Ican! It is only a momentary weak- ness. T expected to find him dead, you know,” and La Coste gained control over his weakness and swung over on the rope, for Kate told him to &° first. e watched him as he went down; saw him turn and face the miner, and then heard the cry: ‘‘Thank God, Hugh, I have found you!” She saw the miner start back, stagger, and then came in thrilling tones: “Vivian! Vivian! my wife! you here!” Then Calamity Kate turned away from the chasm, and for an hour she paced to and fro in the timber; but at length she ee ays the canyon again, cautiously slid down to the growth of pines, and went down the bear-skin rope. ; hs her feet touched the ground Hugh Lam- bert sprung toward her: feigae te, you have brought me my wife—my ife “‘T knew from the first she was a woman. That little false mustache and the man’s attire did not deceive me. I am fine, madam, that you have found your husband.” There was a calm dignity about the woman, in spite of her wild looks and half-masculine costume, that impressed the miner and his new- found wife strangely, and he said rich “* Kate, to you, I again say, I owe my life and my restoration to my wife, and it is but due that I make known the painful circumstances that drove me a fugitive to this far land.” ‘“Mr. Lambert, [ do not seek your confidence. I have but done my duty, and I thank God I was able to be of service ou.” “Still, Kate, I would rather make known to you something of my past, for Vivian and my- self have talked it over, and she agrees with me, that to you I can make a clean breast of it, ‘“‘T came here to the mines, as I thought, a murderer, for I raised my hand against the life of one whom’ I believed had won from me my wife’s love. “Tt was all a deep plot against me, I am now told—a woman’s plot for revenge, because I_re- fused to make her my wife, as all her friends and mine wished; but I did not love her, and followed where my heart led—married Vivian here, and Isabel Vascar plotted revenge. “Tt is all clear now, for Vivian has told me how she cast suspicion upon my wife in many ways, and made me the instrument of her re- venge, and also avenged herself upon me at the same time. “She had a lovely cousin visiting her, and in size, color of hair, and form, she was not unlike my wife, and being engaged to a young man who had slighted Isabel Vascar for Vivian, that arch-fiend plotted to make me do a deadly deed. “Her cousin was poor, and Isabel had her a costume made to wear to a ball, the very coun- terpart of one which my wife was to wear, and she = the lovers into an arbor in the grounds sought me, and led me to witness a scene that froze my very blood. It was, as I believed, my wife, receiving the caresses of a man who had once beef? her lover, and whom both she and myself me admired; in fact he was my dearest friend, : “‘T was blind with jealous passion; I saw but the form, hair and dress, and that, Lawton aD Herndon bent over her in a tender manner, his arm around her waist. “T dragged from my pocket a Derringer istol, and fired quickly at him. Both fell, and bel Vascar hurried me away, and I fled for my life. % Two days after I saw a paper with a most garbled account of the affair, and the names so mixed as to be almost unrecognizable; but it told me that Lawton Herndon was dead; that the bullet had, after mortally wounding him, entered my wife’s neck end made a hideous wound, though not a dangerous one. “From that day to this I have never read a paper, and believed myself the murderer of wton Herndon; but, retribution came upon Isabel Vascar. She was thrown frcm her car- riage, and, when dying, sent for my wife and confessed her crime, and then this brave little woman set out in search of me, and after a long year of tracking has found me—found me to tell me that it was Vivian Lammond that was with Lawton Herndon, the similarity of the two names causing the mistake in the paper, and, joy unutterable, that my Lullet did not kill Lawton Herndon; it wounded bim severely, and ’twas feared be would die, but he 1ecover- ed, and is now the hustand of Vivian Lam- mond, who was also wounded, yet slightly, by the bullet burying itself in her neck; but they lay the crime at the door of Isabel Vascar, and not upon me, ** And Kate, our good friend, my sweet wife tells me that in my absence my business was wrecked, that my fortune was swept away; but, what care I now? I have Finely wealth to offer her, and you are half-owner in this claim, for if J found the mine, you fcund me. Now, Kate, you know oll that I can tell you,” Calamity Kate had listened most attentively to the strange story of Hugh Lambert, and then said, in her quiet way: “T offer you both my warmest congratula- tions, and hope for your perfect happiness in the futu~e. for this gold, I will take just as much of it as will buy me a certain joy I have longed for these many years. Then it was not your wife to whon: you gave the miniature the other night?” ‘No, and there comes in the mystery. She was the perfect image of Vivian—her form, face, voice and all, and sung as dces my wife; but I have a confession to make. I visited the rooms of that woman in the hotel, and she faint- ed at sight of me, and I brought away the mini- ature which I had, under a sudden impulse, thrown into the basket. Nay, more; was rere: ag not beholding{upen her neck the scaz that I believed my bullet had left upon my wife. Who that woman, or girl, can be, I can- not imagine, and Vivian says she came in search of me to my cabin, and was captured by Cap- tain Satan.” “Yes; but she will be rescued, for there is one upon her trail who seems inviocible, and will bring her back, if man can do it. Your wife’s name is Vivian, I believe, and the cne who so resembles her bears the name of Violet Markham?” “ Yes.” \ aoe was your wife before you married er “Vivian La Coste.” “Strange—very strarge,” and Calamity Kate sat silently musing for a while, but presently a age an and said: ou must gain strength now, rapidly, crc I will go to your cabin after pick and Biovel, ara we will work this rich strike, until you are able to get out of kere; then we will return to Cer- tral City and make known your good fortune. . I have seen strange things Happen in these gela- mines,” and Calamity Kate again kecaire lest in deepest reverie, while Hugh Lembert ard his wife sat together in haypy conversation, and at their feet vere piles of precicus yellow gold—e small fortune in a single heap. CHAPTER XXVI. CENTRAL CITY IS AMAZED. It was hard work for Dan &mith to “hold in”—not his horses, but himself—and not teli how the Knights of the Overland, in a little lot arran by Dead Shot, bad “caught a artar”; but he kept his promise, and tl ough be had thrown cut pundiy Wines, bad not in so many words told of what had pi Of course he made known that he had brought over a large quantity of “dust,” and that he had not lost it, though the Knights had ordered him to “ stand and deliver”; but th esecret of bis escape, he said, was not then to be made known. In_ Denver, ig the medium of Dan Smith, the Gold Bullet Sport had beecme as © well known by name as he was in fersen in Central City—in fact, his fame had ficated down to Pike’s Peak and up to Cheyenre, and gaining addition with distance, it was reported afar from Central City that Dead Shot had, single-handed, defeated Captain fatan and his en band cf Knights; but there were many who had met the Knights of the Overland, and been robbed by them, who took this story with a considerable grain of allowance, As Dan dashed along, on his return to Central , With several “pilgrims” inside, as he
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* niners were anxious to welcome her back. 20 talled them, his eyes brightened as he came to the scene of the trouble the day before. Suddenly he drew rein, as if by instinct, ex- pecting the old cry of ‘Throw up your hands!” But the forms whom he had, at first glance, taken for Knights, were seen at a second look to wear petticoats. “Moses in ther bulrushes! I’m teetotally durned glad ter .ee yer—I is, by Jingo!” and Dan threw himself from his box and grabbed | the hand of Violet Markham! “And I to see you, Mr. Smith, for we have been dodging in the mountains for several days. L escaped from the Knights of the Overland b the ail of this Indian girl, and we wish a ride | 70 Central City, when I will pay you.” “Pay? Git in, you an’ yer pard, who are as outty fer a red as youis fer a pale-face. Git in, an’ ef I don’t astonish ther jedge then call mea liar. On, Lordy! but it does my liver good ter see yer! But, whar is ther Sport?” “T do not understand,” said Violet. “Why, ther Gold Bullet Sport an’ his pards | went arter yer yesterday, an’ jist at this heur spot ther was— But I fergits that I darsn’t tell. Git in, white leddy, an’ red, an’ I'll roll yer inter Central in no time, Pilgrims, jist squar’ yerse’fs inside thar a few, fer these led- dies are friends o’ mine. This are my sister an’ | thet are my ¢eoz, so jist make yerse’fs small an’ gin room,” and the ilgrims” in the coach aving made room, Violet and Lalulah were handed in. Dan sprung again to his box, crack- ed his whip, and away rolled the coach. At a speed which the citizens of Central City ad never seen equaled, the Denver coach dash- ¢d up to the hotel, and with a whoop, that caused all to believe him drunk, Dan Smith drew rein before the door. “‘ Jedge Wolf, hop lively fer Queen Victorer | ar’a inside og re Hop up, jump up,tumbleup, | an’ scramble up to h’ist her onter ther groun’! “T has other pilgrims fer yer hash-factory, but ther queen are ther trump-keerd, so hustle her out fust !” With surprise, and wondering what great fem- dnine dignitar had honored the town and got- | ten Dan drunk on the way, Judge Wolf, hat in | hand, swung open the stage-door. “Miss Markham!” “Yes, my dear judge, and most delighted to | get back to your kind protection; and I have brought a friend with me—one to whom I owe | my escape from the Knights of the Overland.” With a glad smile, and words of welcome, | Judge Wolf aided Violet and Lalulah to alight, and Dan Smith ushered them into the hatel, while the judge looked after his other ge. Five minutes afterward a crowd as- sembled in front of the hotel, for the news of | Violet’s return had spread like wildfire, and the | As they stood there a cavalcade was sudden- ty descri coming into town, a crowd at its heels, and shout after shout was heard as the horseman in advance was recognized. It was the Gold Bullet Sport—calm to indif- lerence, and riding with the ease of a superb horseman. Behind him came Buckskin Ben, and ridin oy his side was Carter Gray, or Lron Heart, then followed the other prisoners, seven in num- ber, and horses laden with the dead bodies of | the remainder of the band. Behind these were a number of steeds, heavily freighted with the plunder found in the Castle | of Rocks, and Slim Ike and Red Snake brought vp the rear, for the remainder of Dead Shot’s eilies were guarding the captive King of the | ‘yverland. ‘Great God! they have captured the whole | sand of Captain Satan!” It was Carl Kenyon, or the one bearing nis | 1ame, who ke, ” Yes, and by the Lord Harry the Gold Bul- | tet Sport has done it,” cried Judge Wolf, and | he rushed out to meet Dead Shot, who at that moment glanced up at the window of the hotel and turned deadly pale; but he called back to | Red Snake in the Cheyenne tongue, and the In- | dian also looked up at the windows, but made no sign of having seen anything surprrsing, = Tateton, by Jove! Il am glad to welcome And you were successful?’ you back! “Yes, judge, took the whole stronghold in; but Captain Satan is yet at large, but I will soon have him, too. I see that—that—Miss Markham is back?” . “Yes, arrived half an hour ago—Dan picked | them up upon his return trip, for she brings a — pretty Indian girl with her, who aided her to — escape from the Knights. I see you have not | lost a man?” el ‘““Not one; a perfect victory. Now I will take the prisoners on to the jail and then re- turn. To-morrow we will try them.” “And hang them; but, come back soon, for I wish to drink a hallelujah over you.” As the cavalcade moved on, it became evident that there was trouble brewing, for anumber of | idle men, and dangerous spirits, had gathered | around and meant no good to the prisoners, for” loud threats were heard from every side. “ Back, men! I have charge of these prisoners | and [ will see that thev are protected and get a _ fair trial,” said Dead Shot, firmly. ” _ crowd, and some one—who none knew—fired a shot, anda Knight of the Overland was hard | little band, who were now at leisure, having | But what a startling resemblance! | what can she be? Gold Bullet Sport. “Fair devils! They is Knights o’ ther Over- and, an’ was tuk as sich. Le’s hang them up, i. ** You did not take them,” was the quick re- tort of Tarleton. “Say, my honey, ef yer has too much lip we’ll string yer up with ther Kniyhts,” yelled a loud voice on the outskirts of the crowd, and as Dead Shot made ne reply, another called out: “Git ready, pards; we'll string up ther Knights an’ derwide ther plunder.” ‘Close in around these men, Ike,\o:and the Luegenne move on to the jail with th» plun- er The order was calmly given, and quietly | obeyed, Dead Shot and five of his followers quickly ranging themselves around the prison- ers, while Slim Ike and Red Snake moved on. ‘* Pards, they is goin’ ter perteck ’em, or I is a liar. Le’s snatch ’em,” cried a yoice, and he _ laid his hand on the bridle rein of the steed rid- den by Dick of Denver, ‘*Do not fire any of you, unless compelled to. Move on!” and Dead Shot urged his horse for- ward, and the others followed his example; but the hanging fit was now at fever heat. with the hit; it wasthe Iron Heart, Carter Gray. But he kept his seat, and Dead Shot thrust in- to his hand a revolver. ‘*Defend yourselves as best you can—fire /” The order of the-Gold bullet Sport was not a moment too soon, for a surging crowd was around them, a score of hands upon their bridle-reins, and one of his own men, one of the two miners = had joined him, had fallen dead from his orse, For half a minute there was a rattling of re- volvers, shouts, shrieks of agony, snorting and tramping of horses, and then Dead Shot and his | to the jail; but Tennessee Pete lay dead along with one of the Knights, and the other miner who had joined them fell from his | | little party dashed through the crowd and rade | oo 7 behind, | horse as they rode along, while nearly all the | rest of the party had received slight wounds. ; | At the jail they were met by the sheriff and | his posse, coming to their aid, and behind | them the law-abiding citizens had turned out en masse to punish those who had wantonly at- tacked them. In fact, Central City was in earn- est, and the rioters were forced to levant as quickly as they could. ‘*T am mortally wounded, sir; but you did all in hea’ power to protect me; do not let me die in jail, t was Carter Gray that spoke, and Dead Shot | saw that he was indeed dangerously wounded. **You shall be taken tothe hotel and have every care. Here, boys, get a litter, and bring | this man with me,” and Tarleton turned to his given over to the jailer their prisoners, and stored their plunder in safety. The litter was soon brought and the wounded | man borne to the Central City House. At that moment Violet Markham passed, and a voice called her name: . “Violet! Violet!” The maiden paused, turned quickly, and with a bound was by the side of the dying man. “Carter Gray! , [have found you.” She bent over the wounded Knight just as Judge Wolf came forward to order him taken | to his room. “Oh, Judge Wolf, he is the man whom I sought—and he is wounded,” she cried, with commingled joy and regret. ‘* Yes, he was in the trouble outside a few mo- ments ago. Come to his room if you would see | him, Miss Markham,” Violet stepped back. her eyes still upon the | wounded man, as the bearers raised and bore him away, and at that moment Dead Shot came | upon her, face to face, He was deadly —_ but she showed no sign of recognition, and followed the wounded man. ‘Tam mistaken, as I believed. How could it | be she—she who has been years in her grave? | 18 Who and | a! Dead Shot started back suddenly, for before | hin glided the very counterpart of Violet Mark- ham. “* Great God! and who are you?” Tarleton turned almost fiercely upon her, while the woman shrunk from him, and a deep voice said: “ That lady is my wife, sir; J am Hugh Lam- | bert, at your service.” Shot glanced from the woman to the man, and then said, absently: ‘Pardon me, sir; she cay.e upon me asaspec- ter from the grave. I have just seen one her | ? "or image; I am bewildered | With a bow, and another strange glance at _ Vivian Lambert, Dead Shot pa on, just as Judge Wolf came forward, and with almost equal surprise started back. ‘* Sainted Methusalah! am I awake?* “T hope so, Judge Wolf, for I would like a | room for myself and wife.” ‘Hugh Lam by the Holies!” “Yes, judge, and not dead, as was believed, | thanks my wife here and Calamity Kate. | ' gery from, and I’m blest, madam, if I _ whom she loved, for My wife, Judge Wolf, whom you knew as Mr. La Coste.” ““T’'m blessed if I’m drunk, and—but ie 39 are slightly mixed. Mr. Lambert, Iam glad see you alive, sir, and also to meet your wife; but if her twin sister is not in this house under the name of Violet Markham, you can kick me and I won’t resent it.” ‘“‘T never had a sister, judge; I am an only child; but the likeness between Miss Markham and myself must be strange indeed,” said Vivian. ““Tt is miraculous; but, Lambert, you shall have a pleasant roomr at once, and if 1 seem be- wildered you must excuse me, for things are mixed in this town just now. For instance, my young guest, La Coste, left the hotel several days ago, and comes back Mrs. Lambert, along with yourself, who certainly if not dead, deserve to be for going out in that storm to your cabin, when you knew my house was always open to you. ‘Then Dead Shot captured the Knights of | the Overland and their stronghold, and a party of idle devils attempt to hang his prisoners and raise a row in the street, in which, thank Heaven, they were sadly worsted; then up drives Dan Smith with Violet Markham and an Indian girl, just escaped from Captain Satan’s band! I teil you, Lambert, peng ate top-hea in Central City, and I’d like to pan out next ‘‘T have struck luck at last, judge—got a claim worth a million, and Calamity Kate is my pard, By the way, she came to your hotel to-day, and >ot some things out of the trunk of your guest, ow what w Coste, for my wife did not w:sh to be known ~ longer as a young gentleman.” wit ‘*T wondered where she got her feminine tog- ow whether you are more beautiful as a woman than handsome as a man; but, Hugh, you look seedy, and I will get you a room once.’ “Tam a little shaky on my pins yet, judge; but [ll soon come round. right,” replied Hugh Lambert, pleasantiy. In half an hour more the news of Hugh Lam- bert’s safe return was known, and that his wife was with bim, and, added to the other surprises that had just occurred, Central City was cer- tainly amazed beyond precedent, CHAPTER XXVII. CARTER GRAY’S CONFESSION, THatT Iron Heart, the lieutenant of the Knights of the Overland, was certainly dyin there could be no doubt, for there was a bullet in his side, and internal hemorrhage was slowly taking the life of the strong man. He bad been taken to Biches and_ pleasant room in the hotel, and thither Violet Markham had followed him, and the physician, called in by Dead Shot, bad told him there was no hope whatever, and then had gone off to attend to some other unfortunate who needea his service for the Gold Bullet so ge and his allies had lef a red record behind them, in their passage through the mob that had attempted to check their progress. , In the room with the dying man were Violet Markbam and Tarleton—the latter having been sent for by Carter Gray. He bad bowed to Violet ms es entering, and yet there seemed a pained look upon his hand- some face whenever he gazed at her. There were also two others in the room—Lalulah and the Red Snake—the latter seeming quite con- tented at having at last gotten his grand-daugh- ter away from Captain Satan, ‘*Mr. Tarleton, I have a confession to make to this young girl, and I would be glad if you would bear what I have to say,” and Carter Gray spoke with the utmost calmness, He knew that he was to die, and was no man to cry | out against his fate, “Tf you desire it, sir, and this lady has no ob- jection, I certainly am willing to oniee you,” responded Dead Shot, and he glan toward Violet, who bowed her consent, and Iron Heart went on: j “For your benefit. I will say, Mr. Tarleton, that Iam an actor. I come of a good family in Virginia, but ran off and went on the stage, be- coming infatuated with an actress, whom i af- terwerd marri ‘‘We had no children, and ten years ago adopted a little girl that was playing childish parts with her supposed mother, who was taken ll and died in New Orleans, when our company was orming in that ny ‘“* My wife nursed Maud Markham—such was the woman’s name—and before her death she told us that the little girl, Violet, was not her daughter, but the child of a rich banker in Bos- ton—that the mother of the child had deserted her husband, running off with another man I e had married the banker for his money. “Shortly after her flight from her home she had given birth to triplets—three little girls; | but the man for whom she had fcrsaken her husband swore sho should get rid of the chil- dren, and she had hired a nurse to carry them _ to their father, in Boston. ‘* But the nurse cared not, to be bothered with so many children, and gave one to Maud Mark- ham to adopt, and another one she earried toa - |
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* until m Gold Bullet Sport. jwcy who advertised for a baby girl, to take the place of one she had oe lost. ‘*Maud Markham died, and we took the little child, Violet there, and raised her as our own, wife took ill, and was shortly after laid in the ve. That was three years ago, when Violet was nearly eighteen. “ All that was bad in my nature at once broke out, when my wife was no longer with me, to hold me in check, and I became dissi- pated, gambled, and one night, as you know, shot a man over a game of cards, in Richmond, Virginia. Ole wes deliberate murder—the man won the me fairly, and I killed him, and fled for my Fite. You know the result. I am now dyin an outcast, a fugitive from justice, and an offi- cer of the Knights of fhe Overland. “ At the time of my flight, my daughter, as I called Violet, was giving conce and I was acting as manager; but 1 left her in the lurch, and carried with me her hard saw by the papers that she continued her concerts, and boldly stated in a public card that I was not her father. ““T also saw that she went upon the stage and became an actress of considerable celebrity. Now I find her here in Colorado, and her admis- sions to the proprietor of this hotel told me that she was in seach of me.” ‘*T came here to find you, Carter Gray. You know that, though I loved your wife, I never cared for you, and often wished to leave you; but I was a mere girl, and could not, for I knew not how. ‘“Why I sought you here I will tell apers often speak of me as Violet kham, ghter of Carter Gray, who, it will be re- membered, committed a most diabolical mur- der in Richmond, Virginia, some years since. ‘¢ This species of advertising 1 am tired of, and knowing that you knew who my parents were, I sought A her out to get from you the truth. Alas! I find the first truth a great grief; pg mother was untrue to my father—a f wife! But go on; tell me all I would know,” and the maiden spoke with great bitter- ness, “There is little more to tell, Violet, except the name of your father; it was Walter Wooc- ze. “‘ Walter Woodbridge ! My God! can this be?” _ The eyes of Carter Gray and Violet at once 1rned with surprise on the speaker—the Gold Built Sport. “Yes, such was his name—Walter Wood- bridge, a banker of Boston.” Dead Shot essayed tospeak, but no word came from his lips, aud he turned his face to the win- dow, his whole form trembling with some deep emotion. “Do you know my father, sir?’ and Violet and softly upon the arm of Tarleton. laid her “T did.’ “Did! He is not living then?” “No, he died four years ago,” and an ex- ane ye ofintense pain passed over the face of ead Shot. “Was my sister with him# Mr. Gray says the nurse sent one of my sisters to my father.” * Yes, she was with him when he died.” ‘You know her then?” and a glad light came into Violet’s eyes. mee oa my wife ‘dali ‘ ven the dying man the act wringing from him a groan of a ny; as Dead Shot made known what the sister been to him. ‘“Was?” and Violet’s voice trembled, her lip quivered, and her eyes were full of tears. ‘Yes, she is, alas, dead ! Now you know why I was so affected at seeing you in the theater the other night. You are the ver ne oy my lost wife. At first I hoped, and almost believed that she had, in some miraculous way, risen from her grave, for I knew not that she had a sister; she never knewit herself, nor did Walter Woodbridge know that he had but the one child.” Violet drooped her head in her hands and her form shook with emotion, and Dead Shot stood near, coid, white and stern, while upon his face ou: the rested a look of inexpressible ye At the . od the window, silent as statues, sto Red Snake nd ‘alvlah, and Carter Gray lay with closed eyes, breathing heavily, yet uttering no groan of pain. Fe iength Violet raised her eyes, and asked in ‘a broken voice: ‘And my other sister, Mr. Gray?” “Her name was Vivian. The lady who adopted her was wealthy, and her name was La Ooee- Leroy La Coste was her husband, and they lived in New Orleans.” “Do you know whether she is living or not?” ‘She was, six years ago. At the request of my wife, knowing the history of your sisters and yourself, I wrote to find ou regarding them. Since then I know nothing about them. “Do you know aught of my er?’ and the bcos ie iiein strange as it ma ** She is —nay, Yy seem, the man for whom Ae deserted her husband eame to this very tuwn, some timeago. I knew who he was, and was in Boston at the time of aid wother’s flight, and remembered, when Markham told me who was your father, the excitement the elopement caused there, for the man was well known in the city as were your parents.” ‘His name?” almost fiercely asked Violet. “Was Otis Egbert—a bler of fine appear- ance, and remarkable luck; but ill fortune must have dogged his steps after his flight with your mother, for he was working a small claim here when I saw him, a year ago, and was killed in a fight at some saloon. Here he was known, on account of the strength he possessed in his hand, as Steel-Grip Otis.” illed, you say?” “Thank God for that! and my mother—my poor, poor mother?” ‘Ts somewhere about the mines now; she is known as Calamity Kate.” Again Dead Shot started, and Violet turned quickly toward him: ** You know her?” **Yes, 1 have met her. If she has sinned | right place.” ‘God bless you for those words! You will take me to see her soon?” “ Yes »” Again a deep silence fell upon all, unbroken save by the heavy breathing of the dying man. At last he tried to once more, turned his eyes imploringly upon Violet, gasped for breath—once, twice, and the wicked life of Car- ter Gray, he whose cruelties had won for him the name of the Iron Heart, was at an end. ‘*He is dead,” said Violet, in a whisper, as though awed by the presence of death. “Yes, he is dead; but you are not alone, for I am your brother now.” The maiden looked into the true, sad eyes of the man before her, and said, softly: ‘Yes, you are my brother now.” CHAPTER XXVIII. VIGILANTE JUSTICE. THERE were certainly a number of persons in Central City who felt quite sore over the death of Iron Heart by bullet; they thought that the se had “‘ cheated the gallows” of pne whose ife had been such as to well deserve ging. But, there were the other Knights upon whom to wreak vengeance for the many murders and robberies committed upon the mountain high- ways during the past few years, and those “gentlemen of the road” were at ouce brought to trial. As on former occasions, when the Vigilante trials were held in Central City, Judge Wolf was appointed judge, by acclamation, and all necessary witnesses were at once summoned and the prisoners brought before their accusers— Langrish’s Theater being temporarily trans- formed into a court of justice. Of course one and all of the Knights pleaded ‘* not guilty,” but then there were Dead Shot anc half a dozen witnesses to swear that they had taken them with arms in their hands, red masks on their faces, and knew them to be road-agents belonging to the band of Captain Satan. In his quiet way Dead Shot told that he had a grievance to wipe out against Captain Satan and some of his men, and had sworn to hunt the whole band down to their death. To do chis he had thoroughly disguised himself asa miner, and, under the name of California Kit, had joined the Knights, professing to be a fugitive from justice. tending to be a half-witted fellow he had escaped going with them on their raids, and had been given duties to perform about the Castle of Rocks, and during stay there, had learned the history of the principal members of the band, anc laid his plans for capturing or destroying them. Having perfected his arrangements he left the band, and soon after came to Central City How he had succeeded tne court were to judge; but he could swear persunally against every prisoner then before them, as being a Knight. The statement of Dead Shot created the great- est excitement, and the prisoners scowled at him savagely, but he seemed wholly indifferent to the admiration of the crowd or the hatred of the Knights, and having given his testimony quietly stepped aside. With such testimony as was given by the Gold Bullet Spr and corroborated by Buckskin Ben, Dick of Denver, and the other captors of the Knights, there was little use of wasting time. The court made an effort to induce the prison- ers to confess mending their chief, but they either could not, or would not, even when offered their lives to betray him. Then the Knights wero condemned, in an im- pressive manner By J Wolf, to be immedi- ately led forth to execution—to be hung upon a large tree growing upon the banks of Ulear creek, just outside of the town, At once the court adjourned to the place of ex- ecution, and Slim Ike and Buckskin Ben were appointed executioners, and went to work with a will, while the crowd stood in silent expecta- tion, and the doomed Knights in d despair. “Your testimony was overwhelming, Mr. Tarleton; but do you think you will ever catch Captain Satan?” ae ERS ES. ee ee See ee ee se he ae RIT ee ee =n ts) It was Carl Kenyon who spoke, and he ad. dressed Dead Shot, as the two stood together, near Judge Wolf and the jury. ‘*T am confident I will, sir, for he has not left the country.” “He is a most remarkable man, Mr. Tarleton. —given to a number of disgui hear, and may be at this moment in the crowd cally looking on at the hanging of his men.” The s er was Major Melton, who, at that moment, joined them, and heard the question ot Carl Kenyon and the reply of Dead £ hot. “True, Major Melton; but I shall make a strong effort to find him. There, the word is iven!’ As the Gold Bullet Sport spoke, the wagon was driven ahead, upon which the doomed men were standing, their necks encircled by the ropes, and they at once swung from life into death, while a great shout went up from the rough crowd. With pale face Dead Shot turned away, walk- ed back to the hotel, mounted his horse and rode out of town. Five minutes after, the Red Snake, also mount- ed, followed bim. Near the cabin of Calamity Kate the Indian overtook the Gold Bullet Sport and the tworode on together, until they came to the cabin of Col- onel Darke, in front of which was the same man that Tarleton had before seen. “The colonel has not yet returned, I suppose?” “No, boss. Got a letter from him yesterda: by Dan Smith. He are still in Denver, an’ he’s got a touch o’ fever—guesses yer gold pill didn’t o him no benefit; but they is raisin’ things in Central, I l’arns—is they ?” ““Yes, they are making it interesting for all rascals. You and your master had better look out, ‘*T don’t savey, boss.” Dead Shot made no reply, but rode on, leav- ing Argo Darke’s man-of-all-work gazing af- r A short gallop and the two horsemen drew rein before the cabin of the boss-miner of “The Grizzly.” “Hello, pards, white an’ red, how kin I sarve ane and Fr’isco Frank came forth, his eyes eenly searching the faces of his unexpected visitors, both of whom he knew by sight, as he had been in the X. 10. U. 8. Saloon the night of Red Snake’s game of cards with the Angel Quartette. ‘Move a muscle, Fr’isco Frank, and you are a dead man.” There was no mistaking the tone—there was no mistaking the act! Dead Shot covered the miner’s heart with his Fc meee my poe revolver, and Frisco Frank was likely to find gold where he least Gesired it. “I say, pard, what are I done ter you, thet yer chip in rsacea al whined the miner. Dead Shot spoke to Red Snake in Cheyenne; the Indian sprung from his horse, and withs lariat had the miner securely bound in a twink: ng. ‘Now I will answer ycu; which do you love best, your life or master?” “T don’t rastle with yer idee,” sullenly re- plied the man. Dead Shot took out bis watch and looked at.it. “You have just one minute to answer my question.” There was no trifling with the man before him, and Fr’isco Frank knew it. “1 loves my life best; but I hain’t no master —this are a free kentry.” “ Any villain you serve for gold is your mas- ter; but we will not argue that point, ior I have more iro questions to ask you. Answer them and I will give you your life and let you go, so that you leave this country at cnce; re- tuse, and I will send one of my gold bullets through your brain.” “Tm answerin’ questions every time, pard,” was the — reply. — Shot sat down in front of the miner and asked: “What did your master do with a horseman he captured on the mountains, some days ago?” “Who, pard?” asked Fr’isco Frank, as though to see how much his questioner knew. j “The former manager of the Grizzly Mine— Carletcn Keene, he called himself.” “Guesses as how you knows itall. He are bag over yonder in ther canyon.” “You can lead me there, I suppose?’ **T dunno as I kin.” Dead Shot quietly put the muzzle of his pistoi against the man’s ear, and he added, quickly: ‘“*T mout be ed.” “Sol think. Is Carleton Keene alive?” ‘‘ Life’s too onsart’in, pard, fer me ter venture aremark. I guesses he mout be, though.” ‘**Get up, and show me the way.” The man silentiy obeyed, and at last the twa reached the secret cave, the Indian remaining — horses oA the mec man was alive—pale, haggard, emaciated and vuffering the pangs of starvation. ou have come to save me?” he said, eager- ly, to Dead Shot. ‘I have,” and he unlocked the irons from the poor fellow. “Now, Fi’isco Frank, you shall take this gen-
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tleman’s place until I need you, and he shall be i} your guard—come.” The miner attempted to resist, but with an ef- || fort of his giant strength the Gold Bullet Sport {| . hurled him to the ground, and in an instant he was ironed, hands and feet. “Here, sir, take a swallow of this,” and Dead Shot handed a flask to Carleton Keene, who seemed greatly strengthened by the draught. ‘*Now, Mr. Keene, I will leave you here to watch this man, and my Indian friend will bring you provisions and arms. I may need you both to-night. Are you able to stand guard?’ **Oh, yes; I feel like another man; but, who are you, for there is something strangely fa- miliar in your face?” “Men call me Dead Shot tke Gold Bullet Bport. Be careful not to leave this cave,” and Tarleton walked away, and mounting his horse | soon returned to the cabin, where he procured some food, blankets, and the weapons of Fr’isco ) Frank, and gave them to the Red Snake. ah “Take them to the cave and give them to the one that wasa prisoner; then come to Major Melton’s, where { will be,” he said, and ——- i to his horse he dashed away, and again rew rein at the cabin of Colonel Darke. “‘Pardner, yer is social,” said the man in ore of the cabin. * Yes, and I intend to be more so. What is your name-—-that is, what name are you now dodging the law under?” “My name are U. B. Damn.” tf Well Mr. U. B. Damn, you are likely to be done with as your name suggests. I have the drop on you!” ‘Oh, rdy! How hes I run ag’in’ yer, pardner?’ and U. B. Damn became very pale. “That you shall soon know. At present I must place you where you can be found when wanted. old out your hands, sir!” It was useless to resist, and with a muttered | oath the man obeyed and Dead Shot slipped a pair of handcuffs upon his wrists. Then he led him into the cabin, and with a horse-hair lariat, found there, bound his feet, tT] and with the end of a blanket gagged hima. “Now you can rest easy until I send for you,” and closing and locking the door upon the man with the ee ee the Gold Bul- let Sport again moun is steed and rode rap- idly Back to town, a strange expressiun resting upon his handsome, sad face. hH) CHAPTER XXTIX. Pl TREBLY UNMASKED, Masor Metron, his daughter and Carl Ken- on sat in the pleasant sitting-room of the Melton oom the two gentlemen having returned to- gether from the execution of the ights. The subject of discussion was an interesting it] - one, for upon the morrow Major Melton was to {| take full control of the Grizzly Mine, and Carl Fi Kenyon was urging that, as important business a matters would call him way from Central City for an indefinite period, that Florence should at lH once become his wife. The more that the maiden saw of her lover the more she regretted her act in promising to marry him; but, then, she loved her father, and for his sake was willing to sacrifice herself. Now, having decided, she was perfectly willing to become Mrs. Kenyon without longer delay, and had given an indifferent consent to that ef- fect when astep was heard upon the piazza, and the maid-of-all-work ‘at the cottage came in to say that a gentleman wished to see the master. ing to the door Major Melton beheld Dead Shot, pale, stern and quiet. 8 y, my dear Tarleton, come in! glad to see you.” ‘*No, major, not until I have had a word ; with you. Have you seen enough of me to have fi perfect confidence in me?” L| There was somet in Dead Shot’s manner that impressed Major Melton and he replied at ance: ‘* Indeed I have—the utmost.” . “ Thank ae: Now you return to your guest, | and in a short while I will call again; then, ay whatever I say, suggest or do, I wish you to up- hold me in. It is a strange request, sir, but I am acting rhage 5 a your , and that of your daughter. I go wrong I am personally ou, sir.” : Swsponsi e to i! “Tarleton, there is some strange reason for Hit this request, but I will do as you wish, for I } know enough of you to feel that you are not a tt man to act for effect.” ‘*T will return within ten minutes, for I do not wish it to seem as though I had ange to you,” and Dead Shot turned away, while the major re entered the sitting-room. After a turn around the garden for a quarter £ an hour, there came another knock at the door, and the servant ushered in Mr. Tarleton. A flush came upon the face of Florence, but I} she geviss him warmly, while Carl Kenyon ' seowled, and the major was most gracious. t For a few moments the conversation was on general topics, and the major, feeling that the visit of Dead Shot something to do with Florence and Carl Kenyon, said quietly: i} ; “As a friend of ours, Tarleton, I I am inform t ou of a secret: my daughter is to become Mrs. (| on to-morrow orening ” . Gold Bullet Sport. All saw the Gold Bullet Sport start, and his face pale; but he said, very pleasantly: ‘‘Indeed! Mr. Kenyon is to be warmly con- gratulated. By the way, . Kenyon, your good fortune is such that I would like to stake my life against the lady’s hand, and settle it with a game of cards.” Florence flushed with indignation,and glanced toward her father, as though to resent the insult; but the look she saw on his face caused her to feel that Dead Shot was playing a , for some reason, and her desire to escape the hated alliance with Carl Kenyon was such that she was most willing to be aided. “Sir, do I understand that I am to offer my affiancée’s hand against that of a sport, a gam- bler, and one whose hands are dyed red with human blood?” savagely said Carl Kenyon. Dead Shot was now all smiles, and lied : ‘Yes, that is just what you did understand me tosay: I will stake my life, in a game of cards, against ue right to claim the hand of Miss Melton. If I lose, why, you have my life whenever you choose to take it; if you lose, then I claim Miss Melton,” and Dead Shot eons around as though he had made a most elightful a while Carl Kenyon seemed dumb with amazement. “That is fair, Kenyon, and Tarleton certain- | ly offers his life against Florence’s hand; what say you my daughter?” ‘I say, father, as preposterous as the whole affair seems, I am interested enough to wish to see the game played, and I will accept the alter- native, as far as J am concerned.” Florence Melton was now very pale: she felt confident that her suspicions regarding the con- duct of Dead Shot were correct; and come what might, she would be in no worse position than she then was, while she would take good care, if in her power, that Carl Kenyon should not injure the Gold Bullet Sport. ‘This is shameful, and I confess my intense surprise, Major eae that this man is not at once kicked out of the door.” Tarleton smiled, and the major replied: “On the contrary, Kenyon, I am anxious to see this game played to the end. Come, the majority are against you.” ‘** And if 1 refuse, Major Melton?” “‘Then, Mr. Kenyon, you and I will playa ame of a different kind the minute you leave the shelter of this roof.” ‘**T have a pack myself, and—” ‘*T prefer to use those the major will furnish,” and Dead Shot took a fresh pack handed him by his host. ‘‘ Best three in five, or one game to decide— whichever you please, sir,” said Dead Shot. Carl Kenyon wanted the agony over with— he dreaded lest the Gold Bullet rt was en- penating him in toils from which it would bea hard matter to escape, and he said shortly: ‘**One game let it be!” Dead Shot bowed, sat down at the table, and Carl Kenyon took his seat opposite, while Flor- ence and her father stood, one upon either side. The two men cut for deal and Dead Shot won and carefully and slowly shuffled the cards, and dealt out the hands; then each took yoy hand. Dead Shot, though pale, wore that quiet, mysterious smile, habitual to him when deeply moved; but he showed no tremor of a nerve, though his life was at stake, and he knew, if he lost, that the man before him would not hesitate to claim his winnings. Carl Kenyon was white, and there was just the slightest nervousness in his manner— brought on by ignorance of what all this meant. Slowly the game progressed, and—Dead Shot won “Curses on my ill fortune! but, gambler, you are a fool if you think I shall relinquish my claim upon the hand of Florence Melton because you have been more lucky in a game of cards,” ily said Carl Kenyon, ~ ** Pardon me, Mr. Kenyon, but as an interest- ed party, I beg to say that my hand has been won by Mr. Tarleton fairly, and our engage met ends, sir,” | Florence turned haughtily toward her lover. i jor Melton, I appeal to you, sir—this is “ Mr. Tarleton air, be the jud he * Mr. Tarleton, sir, must as played the game in’ good faith, saking, his life against the hand of my daughter; had he lost, it would have been a matter for him,” said the ma, or. Bits you think I should have claimed his life?” “Yes, Carl Kenyon, you would have claimed it with a joy it were hard to conceal. Hold on, sir! Now that you are no oneet engaged to Miss Melton—now that she is wholly free from you, There declare you to be, not Carl Kenyon, t Colonel Darke, from whom I won the Dead- eit isa lie!” shri ly, d tisa lie!” shrieked the man, savagely, ping his hand upon his revolver. x | “Hands off, sir! You are covered by one who will kill you if you draw a wea ? The Gold let Soert spoke calmly, yet his own hands held no revolver, and the three glanced around the room to see from whence. came the danger threatened. There, in the window behind the denounced man, stood the Red Snake, his rifle to his shou). der, his finger on the trigger! A bitter curse esca the shut teeth of Cari Banyo and then he broke out with: “Major Melton, will you allow this insult in your own house?” “If Mr. Tarleton cannot prove his words, sir he is ees a to me. If he doe) rove them, then I shall hold you responsib i or the insult to my daughter and myself.” «‘‘Major Melton, [ can prove what I say; ax/ more—this man is none other than Captain 8) tan, Chief of the Knights of the Overland.” As Dead Shot spoke he sprung forward ai\! seized both hands of the man in a graspof ira and there was heard the click, click; of mets’, as handcuffs were clasped upon his wrists while Florence staggered back and fell, almo| fainting, into a chair. As for Major Melton, he stood like one i»: sleep; and the voice of Dead Shot again speak ing was a relief. ** Major Melton, if you will make yourself re- sponsible for this prisoner, and permit me tu ask to your house certain persons, I will prove all that I say regarding this man.’ ‘Certainly, Tarleton; do as you please in this matter, I have pees confidence in you. Oh, God! from what have you not saved ne and my child!” and the major led Florence from the room. A moment after he returned, and found that Dead Shot had also ironed the prisoner’s ankles, and that Red Snake had entered the room. Turning to the Indian, the Gold Bullet Sport handed him a key and said a few words to him in the Cheyenne tongue, and Red Snake quick- ly left the house. ‘Now, major, I am going to leave this gentle- man in your charge, while 1 go after several] persons whom I desire to have present. I will return within half an hour,” and leaving the house Dead Shot mounted his horse and rode rapidly into town. CHAPTER XXX. , THE GOLD BULLET SPORT’S REVELATION. IN an hour’s time after the denouncement o! the man who called himself Car] Kenyon + number of persons were gathered in the room: ot the Melton co " In one corner of the room, with the Indian by his side as a guard, sat the prisoner, his face livid his teeth set, and near be were Dick of Denver Bucksin Ben and.Slim Ike, and between them, also prisoners, were the men known as Fr’isov Frank, U. B. Damn and Carleton Keene. At a little table in front of these stood Dea i Shot the Gold Bullet 8 Kate and Judge Wolf, Hugh La lee we an udge Wo u mbert an ‘ wife, and Violet Markham and Lalulah. 4 All eyes were turned upon Dead Shot, as, iv guar ds, velation I have to make, ears I have been performing ¢ solemn duty, and that is trailing that man t: his doom by day and by night. “In the performance of that duty I havs worn as er. ap namin as he has, and day b; oe had entwined around hima coil of proof # to his villainy that is irresistible. ““T now accuse that man of having imper: sonated Carl Kenyon, and the one who rightly bears that name sits there—having been knowp in this community as Carleton Keene, the man- ager of the Grizzly Mine. I accuse that man of being the person known as Colonel Darke, and here are his disguises as such, and u eal is my mark, now covered over with flesh-col- ored court-plaster,” and Dead Shot held up to view a false beard and wig, and stepping along: side the prisoner raised a lock of aa Gonate over the left ear, and revealed a round veered — the eet a palit ee ‘I accuse that man o Sa the chief of the Knights of rN sy gp in this bundle are the disguises he has worn as that human monster, and his red mask, that concealed even his face, “‘ Taccuse that man of being my worst foe—” “In the devil’s name, who are you?” yelled the prisoner, his eyes glaring, his form trer. call me here Tarleton and Dead Shot the Gold Bullet Sport; my real name is Harolo' Tarleton Meredith,” was the stern mse, * It is a lie—he is dead—I saw him die,” cries the prisoner, - “You mistake; he is not dead, as you shall know—as all shall know who hear my story. “Ten years ago, a weary boy, I visited Bos ton to get a situation by which to aid in the sup | ee — <
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— e secret power over him, drove him from his company, while he, with the gold he had dug from his claim, organized a band of four men besides himself, and began the search for me. “One day, just before nightfall, he came to my cabin, accompanied by his four cut hroats, and who were none other than those known as the Angel Quartette in Central City—the origi- Queen, Ace, Jack and King, as they were known, and whom most of you present know to have fallen by my hand. | , “‘ Coming to my cabin witb the avowed inten- tion of taking my life, and dragging my wife down to shame, was ita wonder that [ would rather see her die than fall into the power of that man? vad “T was taken unawares, and, feeling that I was to die, for I was sorely wounded, I drove my knife into the heart of my beautiful wife, rather than see her fall into the hands of her wicked cousin, and with her consent.” A murmur of horror here went round the room; but Dead Shot went on: “She died in my arms, and, sorely wounded as I was, that man, Clarence Gilmore, and his men. hung me in. mid-air to die, my eyes upon the form of my dead Victorine, “But one person came suddenly u the scene, and unable to cope single-handed with the five men, he gave several weird cries, which drove the murderer: in affright from the spot, leaving me hanging, and, as ey believed, dead. “My preserver was the Indian there, Red Snake, the Cheyenne chief, who, cutting me down, when life was almost extinct, devoted himself to my recovery, and with wonderful skill saved me from death. ‘““My murdered wife—and Clarence Gilmore there her murderer, aud not myself—the noble 23 Gold Bullet Sport. eee Indian buried near my cabin, and then, for four long months nursed me by. night and day until I arose from my a well man, “Then my heart was filled with revenge most bitter against Clarence Gilmore, and I set to work to enable me to cope with him. ‘* All day long I schooled myself to bear hard- ship, trained my muscles until they became like iron, and practiced with rifle, revolver and knife until f knew not what it was to make a poor shot, or to miss a target in knife-throwing, and the Cheyenne trained himself with me, whenever he could leave his — “Then I set out in search of Clarence Gil- more, and discovered that he had leagued him- self with the road-agents, and become their chief, organizing a band known as the Knights of the Overland. ‘“‘In the disguise of a miner, and known as California Kit, I spent months in the band, and possessed myself with the recent history of its members as well as I could. ‘*T also found out that Carl Kenyon had been compelled to act as he did toward me by the power held over him by Clarence Gilmore, and, to hide from his old companion in guilt, he had assumed the name of Carlton Keene. ‘* How I have reven myself upon the men who accompanied Clarence Gilmore to my cabin, and forced me to slay my poor wife, and how I have run down the nights of the Over- portray the scene that followed—the guilty mother brought face to face with her childreui, both of whom forgave her in their loving hearts; to portray how quickly Fr’isco Frank and U. B. n “‘levanted ” when given per- mission, and how Buckskin Ben and Slim Ike chattered like magpies over the happy denoue ment, and Dick o nver offered his congratu. lations to all, while fhe Indian chief Soo like a statue, a smile upon his bronze face and a | glad light in bis dark eyes, and Carl Kenyon, land, you all know, as you now do that I hold | in m sits there, “Now, Carl Kenyon, I ask you whether I | | against your claim to the hand of Miss Melton, was guilty of robbing my noble benefactor?” “You were not! Clarence Gilmore robbed the bank and forced me to place the money in axl room, and we divided the thousand dol- ars between us,” was the quick and firm reply of Carl Kenyon, ‘Then you will sign this paper to that effect addressed to the Judge of the Court that tri me, and the present Governor of Massachu- setts,” and Dead Shot placed before him upon the table, a written document which Carl Ken- yon at once, signed. ‘*Now, Mr. Kenyon, I want you to tell those present how Clarence Gilmore made you a pris- oner, and, aS uming your name, attempted to defraud Major Melton out of his purchase of the Grizzly Mine, and drew your one hundred thou- | sand dollars out of the bank in Denver.” In a few words Carl Kenyon told all. “Now make known how he endeavored to get possession of Major Melton’s claim, hereto- ore considered wo by making Miss Mel- ton his wife.” Carl oe Aw obeyed, the horror-stricken au- | ditors breathless with amazement, and Major Melton and Florence as white as the dead. occu of Colonel Darke. When you get it, leave this | —and yet country, and never in cross ~~ 3? and then Dead Shot turned to Fr’isco Frank: ‘*Now, sir, who is that man?” “Tt are Capt’in Satan, Colonel Darke, Carl Kenyon, an’ yer has another name yer gi’n him.” “ And who are you, sir?’ “My name are Fr’isco —I are a mem- ber o’ ther Knights o’ ther Overland; but I has bin on secret sarvice fer ther capt’in.” ‘* Well, Frisco Frank, I spare you on account of your testimony against your master. When this trial is over you had better emigrate, and if I meet ie again, I give you fair warning— I shall kill you.” ‘*’Nough said, pard; yer isn’t goin’ ter see me ag’in soon.” ‘* Now, U. B. Damn, who is that man?” “Thet are Capt’in Satan—iknowed as Colonel Darke, an’ I are one o’ his gang 0’ Knights, what has been livin’ in ther cabin near ther Deadman’s Mine, an’ I guesses as how I’d like ter become a levantin’ appe tion with alacrity. ry done with you, andI give you the same warn- ing I did him, and half an hour for you both to get out of Central City and immediate vicinity.” ip guesses as how we kin do itin less time, pard,” said Fr’isco Frank; but Dead Shot turn- ed to Lalulah, the Indian girl; “ a the May Bird tell me if she knows this man! power the arch-fiend of all—the man who | ‘*T thank you, sir; your money is in thecabin | b ce Gilmore, under his name _ how red m / ou can go with Fr’isco Frank when I have | with downcast eyes, sat as tloigh in deep shame at the mers he had played, aud Clarence Gilmore, his face black with passion, his eyes sunken and glaring, his teeth gritting savagely, scowled upon all. present, co especially upop the man who had tracked him to doom. No, my pen cannot write of that seene more CONCLUSION. Three scenes, and my story is ended. Across a grave in a quiet valley stand two men, both armed—their pistols almost touch- ing each other’s heart—their eyes looking into each other’s face. A few s distant is a small ares ajor Melton, Judge Wolf, Hugh Lambert, Buckskin Ben, Dick of Denver, Slim Ike, Dan Smith and Red Snake—all gazing at the two men in silence. One of those two is speaking—it is he who has won the name of the Gold Bullet Sport: “Clarence Gilmore, so certain have I beer that Fate decreed me to punish you that I risk- ed my life in a game of cards against the Dead- man’s Mine, and won; again I risked my life and won. *‘Now, across the grave of my murdered wife, I again risk my life, for I might bang you to the very tree where you had ‘me hung, and without danger to myself; but, no; I agair: dare Fate. One of these pistols is loaded with a gold bullet, the other with powder only. Which is the fatal weapon neither of us know, and our chances are equal. ‘Tf I fall you are free to go where you please, for these gentlemen have pledged me to a you no harm, ‘‘Tf you fall my revenge is complete. ‘* Major Melton, 1 am ready.” ‘* And I,” said Clarence Gilmore, as palJid ar a corpse, In ringing tones Major Melton called out: “One! two! three! Fire!” : With the last word both pistols flashked—an' Clarence Gilmore Fell dead. Two persons stood on the piazza of the Meltox cottage, a month after the death of Clarenca Gilmore; they were Harold Meredith and Flor ence Melton. ‘‘ Florence, you know me as I am—you know hands are dyed with human blood come to you to ask if you will be my wife?” **Yes, and in my love you shall forget the imbittered past.” “God bless you, Florence! When will yor become my wife?” ‘In one month Violet is to be made my swee/ step-mother, Harold, and it shall be a doubli wedding, if you say so.” Kind reader, it was a triple wedding, for the night that made Violet Markham Mrs. Major Melton, and Florence Melton Mrs. Harold ’1'. Meredith, Lalulah, the May Bird, became Mrs. Dick of Denver: that festive young sport, thet strange compound of much that was good, ancl, all that was reckless, had won the heart of the bronze peanty of the Cheyennex. From that day Central City became of more im- portance, for much money was laid out by Har- old Meredith, Major Melton and Hugh Lemtert gues ( g | in working their rich mines, and three hand $b, gine along with Fr’isco Frank, | heur,” replied the gentleman with the profane | some residences were built in the suburbs of the town, and Mrs. Woodbridge, no longer known as Calamity Kate, passed her days in calm con- tentment in visiting from one to the other, for | at all she was heartily welcome, the dark page “Yes, he is Captain Satan. He has been | known in many other characters, and I hate him now as deeply as I once loved him,” was the quick and earnest reply. “* Now, Clarence Gilmore, I will a that my name is Harold Tarleton my wife was Victorine Woodbrid “*Victorine Woodbridge! Oh, !. It is as my heart has told m e, and these two are a children.” _ t was Calamity Kate that spoke, and she turned with longing eyes toward Kate Mark- ham and Vivian Lambert. “Yes, my wife, Victorine, and these two la- dies, are your children—the three born at a birth, and their father was Walter Woodbridge, a banker of Boston,” said Harold Meredith, in his oP tones, which now trembled visibly. in tell you eredith,and ae | , reader, pen of mine is inadequate to , in her life having been forgiven, if not forgotte As managers of the Melton, Merecith and Lambert mines, Buckskin Ben, Dick of Denver, evd Slim Ike excel, and Red Snake, the Chey- enne, passes days in panting game in the moun- tains and supplying the tables of his friends, for he is the best sportsman in Colorado, As for Red Turner he found himself rich, a< increase of patronage poured into the X. 10. U 8. Saloon, and giving up dispensing ‘‘ Lenzine’ and “ pizen,” rented the Langrish Theater an engaged the famous John Dillon as comedian making: thereby a good thing: for both Dillon and Turner. Dan Smith, the “ Princ of the Ribbons,” con- tinuec to rattle over the Denver road for years, bringing “ pilgrims ” to the Central City House, and its worthy proprietor, Judge Wolf, who, every Sunday, goes to dinner with one or ithe other of his friends: but never does the gar1u ous Dan pass the scene of his adventure with the Knights of the Overland, that he does not “ go slow ” and tell the story of how Captain Satan was hunted down by Dead Shot, the Gold Buliet Sport. THK END,
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32 Large Three-Column Pages, 1.A Hard Crowd; or, GenTLEMAN Ram’s Sister. By Philip S. Warne. 2. The Dare-Devil; or, Toe WincGrEeD Witcu or THE SHA. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 3. Kit Carson, Jr., Tur Crack SxHorT or roe West. By Buckskin 4. The Kidnapper ; ; oR, THe GREA1 SHANGHAI OF THE Nortuwesr. By Philip 8. Warne. 5. The Fire-Fiends; or, HERCULES, THE Houncupack. By A. P. Morris. 6. Wildcat Bob, THe Boss Bruiser ; or, THE Borper BLoopxounps. By Edward L. Whee- ler, author of “* Deadwood Dick,” ** Double Daggers.” 7%. Death-Notch, THe Destroyer; or, Tar Spirit Lake Avencers. By Oll Coomes. 8. The Headless Horseman. A strange story of Texas. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 9. Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 10. Vidoeq, THE Frencu Pouce Spy. Written by himself, 11, Midshipman Easy. By Capt, Mar- ryat, 12. The Death-Shot; orn, TRACKED TO Orarg. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 13. Pathawar} or, Nick WHIFFLES, THE Oxvp Trapper or THE NortHwest. By Dr. J. Hq. Rob- inson. 14, Zhayondaneges, THE ScouRGE ; on, Tue War-EaGLe or THE MonawKs. By Ned Bunt- ine, author of ‘‘ The White Wizard.” 15. The Tiger-Slayer; or, EaGLr- Heap To THE Rescuz. By Gustave Aimard 16. The White Wizard; or, THe Great PROPHET OF THE SEMINOLES. By Ned Buntline. 17%. Nightshade, THe Ropper PRINCE or Hounstow Heats. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 18. The Sea Bandit; on THE QuEEN or THE Istx. By Ned Buntline. 19. Red Cedar, THe Pram OvTLaw. By Gustave Aimard, 20. The Bandit at Bay; or, Tux Pr- RATES OF THE Prarrizs, By Gustave Aimard, 21. The Trapper’s Daughters OR, THe Ovtrtaw’s Fate. By Gustave 22. Whitelaw; or, NATTI£ or THE LAKE Snore, By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 23. The Red Warrior; oR, STELLA Devorme’s ComancuEe Lover. By Ned Buntline, 24. Prairie Flower. By Gustave Ai- mard, author of “ Tiger-Slayer,” etc. 25. The Gold-Guide; or, Sree. Ars, THe Reouuator. By Francis Johnson. 26. The Death-Track; on, Tur Ovr- LAWS OF THE MounTaIn. By Francis Johnson, 27. The Spates Wtostives or, THE Grats or New York. By Albert W. Aiken. 28. Three-Fingered Jack, Tur Roap- AGENT OF THE ROCKIES; OR, bi Boy Miner or Harp Luck. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 29. Tiger Dick, Tue Faro Kina; or, Tue CasHieR’s Crime. By Philip 8. Warne. 4 Gospel George; or, Fiery FRep, ¥ue OvtTtaw. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 31. The New York ‘S ? or, THE FiasH or Licutnrnac. By Albert W. Aiken. 32. B’hoys of Yale; on, THe SCRAPES era Harp Ser or Cotuearans, By John D. Vose. 33. Overland Kit. By Albert W. Aiken. 34. Rocky Mountain Rob. By Al- bert W. Aiken. 35. Kentuck, the Sport. By Albert Page 6. Injun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. ro Hirl, the Hunchback bg comet tm on, THE SwWoORDMAKER OF THE SanTEs. By Dr. J. E:ach Number Complete, Price 10 cts, 38. Velvet Hand; or, THE [Ron Guip oF | . Loval Heart; or, Toe TRAPPERS OF Insun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. | Anzae As. By Gustave Aimard. 39. The Russian Spy; on, Toe Broru-| 62. The Winged Whale. ERS OF THE STARRY Cross. By Frederick Whittaker... W. Aiken. 40. The Long Haired ‘Pards;’ or,| 64. Doublo-Sight, tho Death Shot. Tue TarTars of THE PuaIns. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. | By Joseph E. Badger, 41. Gold Dan; or, THe Wuire Savace| 65, The Red Rajah; or, Tax Scouncr or Tur Great Savr Laxe. By Albert W. Aiken. | oF THE Inpies. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 42. The California Detective; on,| 66. The Specter Barque. A Tas: Tue Witcues or New York, By Albert W, Aiken. | or THE Paciric. By Captain Mayne Reid. 43. Dakota Dan, THe Reckiess Rancer;| 67. The Boy Jockey; or, Hovest> or, Tae Bes-Hunters’ Excursion. By Oll Coomes, | versus CrookEepness, By Joseph E. "Badger, Jr. 44, Old Dan Rackback, Tr Great 68, The Fighting Trapper or, Kit EXTARMINATOR; or, THE TRIANGLE’s Last Traw. | Carson To THE REScU y Capt. J. F.C. Adams. By Oll Coo Z wT 69. The Irish Captain; A Tauz or 4 45. Old Bull’s = yes THE LIU EEE | Foxtenoy. By Captain Frelerick Whittaker, HOT OF THE PLAINS, y Joseph E. Badger, Jr. | 70. Stydrabad, THE STRANGLER; or, 46. Bowie-Knife Ben, Tse Limite Azer, ae CHILD or tHe Corp, By Dr. J. H! HvnNTER oF THE Nor’-west. By Oll Coomes. | Robinson, 47. Pacific Pete, THz Prince oF THE | 71. Captain Cool-Blade, or, Toz Man REVOLVER. By Jos, E. Badger, Jr | SHARK OF THE MississipriI. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr, 48. Idaho Tom, TH ‘Younc Ovt.aw | oF SILVERLAND. By Oll Coomes, By Albert 72. The Phantom Hand. A Srory or New YorRK HEARTHS AND Homes, By Albert W. 49. The Wolf Demon;0or, THE Queen or | Aiken. THE KANAWHA, By Albert W. Aiken. 73. The Knight of the Red or, THe Maoictan oF GRANADA. A Tale of tho ab hambra. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 74. Captain of the Rifles. A Romance OF THE Mexican Vatitey. By Captain Mayne Reid 75. Gentleman Gecrge, or, PARLor, Prison, StaGE AND Srreet. By Albert W. Aiken. 76. The Queen’s Musketeer, or, THISBE, THE Princess Patmist. By George 77. The Fresh of Frisco, cr, Tre: Heiress of BukNAvVENTURA. By Albert W . Aiken 78. The Mysterious Spy; or, GotpEn FEATHER, THE. BuccaNneer’s DauguTeR, By A. M. | Grainger. 79. Joe Phenix, tar Pouce Sry. By Albert W. Aiken, , 80. A Man of Nerve; or, Carian, TRE DwarrF. By Philip S. Warne. 81, The Human me, or, A Harr or Fire. By Albert W. Aiken. 82. Iron Wrist, tke liwendinanter. By Col. Thomas H. Monstery,. j 83. Gold Bullet Srort; or, raz Kxronts OF THE OVERLAND. By Buffalo Bil’ 84. Hunted Down; or, tHz Warrp Wrrex. By Albert W. Aiken. 85. The Cretan Rover; or, ZULErKAn, | THE BrautiruL. By Col. Prentice Ingraham. KIT CARSON, JR.—No. 8, 50. Jack Rabbit, THe Prarrm Sport; | | or, THE CHILDREN OF THE LLANO Estacabo. By Jos. EK. Badger, Jr. | 86. The Big Hunter; or, THE Qure 51. Red Rob, Tue Boy Roap-Acent. | OF THE Woops. Fis author of “ Silent Hunter. By Oll Coomes. 87. The Scarlet Captains or, Tue Delle Sara. pe oe OF THE Tower. By Col. George, THE GIANT OF THE ph ns wep Phe OvrLtaw BroTHErs: By Josep) E. Badger, dr. 53. Silver Sam; or, THe MYSTERY oF Deadwoop Crry. By Col. Delle Sara. 89. The Pirate Prince; or, Pretty 54, Always on Hand; or, Tae Srormive | juga OO maiz Isur.” By Col. Prentiss Sproat or THE Foor His. By Philip 8. Warne ‘A. Hard Crowd,” Leat % 90, Wild Will, Tre MAp Rancuero: author of © A Hi oy) Pe per. dne, or, THE TERRIBLE TEXAN. By Buckskin Sam. 55. The Scalp Hunters, A RoMANczE or Pram 91. The Winnrirg Oar; or, Tax Inn tte Dy Cap Sanne ee KEEPER’s DAUGHTER. PytAlbert w Aiken. : 56. The Indian aay 3; or, THE | Ready April 7th. Map MAN oF THE PLAINs. beri, W. ‘Aiken, 92. Buffalo Bill. Tar Bucksxiw Kixc: sien Bilt erst § 80 SOO | a Fees eager Mae Bese 58. Silver Knife; or, WICKLIFFE, THE ee. - Captain Dick Talbot, Krxu oF Rocky Mounramy Rancer. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. Roap; or, TsE BLAck-Hoops’\or Smasta. By 59. The Man From Texas; or, Tux Albert W. Aikeb. “Ready May Sth. OUTLAW OF ARKANSAS. By rt W. en. A new weeks. 60. Wide Awake; or, THE IDIOT OF gp.naiers feats we ornarede a rae Buack Hits. By Frank Dumont. Newsdealers, ten vants rac iE dentiby ADAMS, 61. Captain Seawaif, THE PRIVATEER. | receipt of twelve cents each. LE & AD By Ned Buntline, | Publishers, 98 William Street, Ni ork. 52. Death Trailer, Tue Curr or pecans or, Life and Love in a Frontier Fort. By Hon. Wm. F. Cody, (Buffalo Bill.) IBRARY.|