Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 985) (1897 09 08)
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ri “4; ees y , mare I~ “ eens —- = Copyrighted, 1897, by BEADLE AND ADAMS. ENTERED AS SECOND CLASS MATTER AT THE NEW YORK, N. Y., Pos ¥) September 8, 1897. PNG, 000, “Swanmear, wait eremen sew oe” peewee MOL LED me = ER.)R. ““THAT’S ENOUGH, PARD!” CRIED HAPPY JACK.
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—— Copyrighted, 1897, by BEADLE ANQ ADAMS, No. 985. PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 92 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK, The Long Haired ‘Pards;’ The Tartars of the Plains. BY JOS. E. BADGER, JR., AUTHOR OF ‘‘THREE‘FINGERED JACK,” ETC. CHAPTER I. A FRONTIER FESTIVAL. “MAKES a feller ’most sorry fer the old In- | un fashion, eh, pard? I cain’t say as I ever iankered after the wimmen critters—they’re nost erally bad medicine, an’ they ain’t Qany Todges »ig enough to hold them an’ luck, 90, to my notion; but when I fust lay eyes on er, I hed to fight mighty hard inside myself to ‘eep from snatchin’ her up an’ makin’ a tail-on- end race fer it—I did so/ *'There’s another man who thinks much the lame, or his eyes speak f: alse,” quietly remarked he young man addressed, with a slight nod to- vard the small, flag-draped platform or pavil- on. ‘He must be a new-comer, for I never aw him before.” , “They ain’t many men as care to see him twicet. Take a good squar’ look an’ see what you kin make out from his face.” The speakers—who are destined to figure | rominently in this chronicle—were standing a ittle apart from the main gathering, and both were men who would attract attention in any crowd, though strong contrasts in nearly every respect, he first speaker was scarcely of medium | hight; his limbs were small, but admirably rounded, and though at first glance he seemed almost effeminate, his strength, activity and wonderful skill in almost every species of athletics had long since passed into a proverb. His features were clear-cut and regular, and would have been fairly handsome only for the high cheekbones. His face was smooth and beardless, though the hair of his head was un- usually heavy, falling in straight vlack masses | below his shoulders. His eyes, though rather small, were wonderfully bright and keen, and few men could meet them fairly without an un- | comfortable feeling of being read through and through. His garments were almost severely plain, of TIndian-tanned buck-skin, and minus all the. fringes and beadings most men of his class are so fond of. Even his weapons wero uanorna- ! | scout and guide. | was no less famous than that of Wild Bill or September 8, 1897. Tol LAXTL mented, Yet one object about him shone and sparkled in the poalighte a beautifully-embroid- ered and ornamented pouch hung upon his breast—a ‘* medicine-sack,” Such was William—or ‘‘ Brut Comstock,” the His career, though briefer, TEN CENTS A COPY. 85.00 A YEAR. Buffalo Bill, and to this day many a rough voice grows soft, many a hard eye dims, as the memory of the true-hearted scout is recalled to mind, True as steel to a friend—bitter as death to an enemy, he died in harness, nobly perform- ing his duty: and now lies ina te grave, Peace to his ashes! His companion—known far and wide as “Happy Jack ”—was rising six feet, broad shouldered, full-chested, with a round, compact waist, swelling hips and long limbs; a mode! of manly strength and symmetry, His complex- ion was fair, his features almost classically regular, his eyes large and deep blue. A heavy mustache shaded his lips, te a magnificent chevelure hung in yellow curls to his shoulders, His dress, like that of his partner, was mainly of buck-skin, and bore traces of recent harc riding and rough living. “Unless my eyes deceive me,” he said, afte: a steady gaze in the direction indicated by “THAT'S ENOUGH, PARD!” CRIED HAPPY JACK, “YOU MEAN WELL, BUT I DON’T NEED ANY MAN TO FIGHT MY BATTLES,’ Ay IR ee es pers a)
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2 ) eae Rs Comstock, “ that man is what you rarely see— a brave tyrant. God help the man—or woman —whose only hope is in Ais mercy!” ““T knowed you’d see it,” laughed the scont, softly. ‘‘That’s Cap’n Stone, of the —th. He led his men sech a dog’s life that his fri’nds managed to git him changed tothis rijiment. I don’t reckon he’d ’a’ lived through the next scrimmage—indeed, the boys didn’t make no secret of it, but said right out that he’d die from ahind, the very fust chaince that come.” “He doesn’t look like a man who would run from even such a danger,” thoughtfully said art Jack, ec ‘“No more he would—without a fa’r cause,” grinned Comstock, nodding toward theepavilion, *To do him jestice, they ain’t a more dare- devil man, nur a better Injun-fighter then him. But thar’s the little gal kin take him into camp!” “T feel sorry for her,” was the scout’s only reply. he subject of this brief conversation was seated beside a lady near the upper end of the vilion. Tall, well-proportioned, dark and handsome, a finely-educated man with rare con- versational powers, Captain Lawrence Stone was laying himself out to please the young lady beside him with an interest and ardor that he made no attempt to disguise from the eyes of those around. Indeed, so impressive did his air become that the lady arose and hastily ap- proached the edge of the pavilion nearest the crowd, Captain Stone followed, a hot flush passing swiftly across his brow. The unpolished though sincere praise of the scout had not been unfounded. Kate Markham, daughter of the colonel commanding, was indeed a beautiful woman. That she was barely up to the middle hight, that her form was full and ad- mirably symmetrical without being too plump, that she was a perfect brunette, with jetty-black hair, clear complexion, rosebud mouth and large, brilliant eyes; all this is easily said, but the words give only a faint and unsatisfactory idea of the reality. With each passing mood she seemed quite a different person—alike only in being charming, bewitching in all. The hot blood mantled her cheek as she felt the presence of the captain at her elbow, and as though dreading what he might invend saying, she hastily uttered: ; tf Pray—who is that gentleman talking to fa- ther? “Gentleman?” echoed Captain Stone, with a scarcely-disguised sneer. ‘‘ Ah, rhaps you mean yonder fellow with the long hair? “T mean the ae with the golden curls —yes,” replied Kate, with a provoking empha- SiS, “That is Happy Jack, as men call him, a sort of scout, or camp-follower, I believe. I fear though, Miss Kate, that few would recognize ey your description.” “Indeed! after such a proof of your blind- ness, I shall think twice Rotors believing any more of your prey speeches. Without excep- tion he is the handsomest man I have seen in a ear—and I’m going to ask papa for an intro- uction.” With a mischievous laugh, Kate Markham ran lightly down the broad steps and approach- ed her parent; but if she really had such an idea, it was frustrated. With a military salute the scout turned away and rejoined his partner. Colonel Markham greeted his petted—if not spoiled—child with a sunny smile that partly betrayed the deep, almost passionate love he felt for her. Another proof was to be read in the unwonted surroundings; in the draped pavil- ion, the gay and animated crowd, in the military d now discoursing their best music, in the soldiers who had d in stately review be- fore the stand, each saluting the laughing, nod- and excited little beauty; all , and all that was yet to come, was in honor of her eight- eenth birthday. There was to be a general holiday—all who chose were to meet on an equal footing in the games of strength and skill, for the victors in which suitable prizes had been rovided. ‘‘Now that Ihave made my report, bi ah you give me an idea of what all this fanfaron- wie means?” said Happy Jack, as he rejoined his friend, Comstock. “It’s fer her. She come out here—from somewhar in the States, 1 reckon, whar she’s- bin to school, or sich like. She come out here a week ago, an’ the ald man he lowed he’d show how proud he was, by givin’a ginewine prec. circus. Ireckon everybody an’ his yaller dog Il be here.- They’s money in tt, too, lettin Plone the fun. e old man don’t often git off ‘m his reg’lar beat, but when he do, he jist spreads wide open—you hear me!” and e enthusiastic scout hurried off his friend to view the various prizes which were to be award- ed to the victors in the coming sports. these were icularly ap- the probable contestants; pecan rifle, a brace of revolvers, a saber, a silver-mounted saddle and horse fur- , etc. ie two aichtaa were suddenly separated as pressed rudely between them. The ye Dime Library. one pointed out the saddle, saying in a clear tone: “T mean to carry off that prize and asa proof that I mean what I say, I am ready to wager | one hundred dollars with any gentle- man—” ** Money talks,” quickly uttered Happy Jack, shaking off the hand of his friend and facing the officer. ‘‘I accept your wager, Captain Stone—” “And who may you be?’ insolently demand- ed the officer, eying the scout from head to foot. **T said any gentleman—” ‘“*T-claint to be one, sir, asl sill cheerfully convince you at any time or place you may choose to name. Meanwhile, if you have any doubts, you can settle them by one word with Colonel Markham. Here is the money—cover it, or own that you were talking just for the sake of hearing your own voice.” “You have said more than enough,” replied Captain Stone, in a voice that trembled despite his iron nerves. ‘‘ Lieutenant Blake, will you do us the honor to hold stakes? Thanks. I trust you are satisfied?’ he added, abruptly turning to Hap) xy Jack. “Perfectly,” bowed the scout. ‘*T hope you may be able to say as much by this time to-morrow,” and with a httle laugh the captain strode away toward the pavilion. “You've stirred up an ugly devil, pard,” earnestly said Comstock, as they turned away from the little crowd. ‘‘ He’s giv’ his rattle; he’ll not wait long afore strikin’.’ “At any other time or place he wouldn’t have had time to do either,” was the quiet re- oly. ‘He did not crowd us like that for noth- fay) I can’t imagine his reasons, but I feel that he came here simply to pick a quarrel.” **T reckon he couldn’t come to a better place fer gettin’ the full wuth o’ his money,” grinned Comstock. “Tll do my best to satisfy him, at least. But ee oRoue this bet; what is the saddle offered or?” “The old trick—you remember the fun we had down Taos way? Pluckin’ the cock—el gallo,” ‘Old ‘Paint’ will do, then,” muttered the scout, glancing toward a curiously-spotted mus- tang that stood near. ‘I wouldn’t like to trust Simoom in the seri M4 **You'll need a fast an’ a good horse, sure. The cap’n is a born devil to ride, an’ the tricks he don’t know ain’t wuth much. You'd better take my critter—” “No—old ‘Paint’ knows me better, and is lenty fresh enough. See! there goes the gal- fant captain with a choice companion for one who will bet only with gentlemen!” } “‘Injun Dan! the blackest thief unhung! I'd | ive a hoss to know jest what they’re sayin’. ‘a! I knowed it! they’re goin’ to saddle up. Good enough! [reckon Ill take a hand in the music.” “Then you think—” ‘*T think that ef Mister Injun Dan tries any 0’ his underhan’ tricks, he’ll run ag’inst a snag, I won’t interfere unless he does, You never mind him, but just keep an eye on the cap’n.” There was no time to say more, for the signal was blown for the contestants to appear before the judge’s stand, where the rules governing ‘* 1 Gallo” were briefly stated. A rooster was buried in the earth, leaving only its head and neck, both plentifully besmeared with grease above ground. The competitors, their position being decided by drawing lots, were to ride one hun yards at full gallop, bend in the saddle and endeavor to pluck the cock from its rest- ing-place with naked hand. When one succeed- ed, all the others were at liberty to pursue and seek to wrest the trophy from him, All maneu- vers were fair in which no weapon was used. A post was planted one-half mile distant from the bird. is must be rounded, and then the starting-point regained, The victor would be he who carried home the live bird; or, if torn to pieces in the melee, the one who could pro- duce the cock’s head, Then the lots were drawn, and the sports be- gan. Comstock wassixth, Happy Jack seventh, while Captain Stone was last, or the thirteenth man, None but crack riders had entered, few caring to risk their necks unless pretty confident in their skill. 3 At the blast of a bugle the foremost rider dashed off, passing close beside the buried roos- ter, stooping low in the saddle and making a at the bird’s neck; but in vain. The cock twisted its | neck to one side, and the baf- fled Ecienk a figahod: hotly as his ears tingled with the ironical cheers of the spectators, as, ac- ipa the rules, he swept around to asseme a posi in the rear of thé competitors. Again and again this was enacted with scarce a variation, though more than one of the riders succeeded in touc the bird’s head, despite . be gtining fy Then Bill Comstock spurred forth, is tou; riding he eo ee piveeie Lar Cae! born ts the ering from hi lecessors, the at iay along his mustang’s aie from the first, and sunk lower as he advanced until his at hand ei ocd the ground for several yards before the bird was reached. Then he made his grasp, aiming not for the head of the bird, sees ST Pe ee = eee but rather at the point where its neck disap, neared below the surface. The bird dodael out the scout’s eye was true, and a shower o sand arose as Comstock, with a wild yell, swung the fowl above his head. : But as many a man before him, the scout laughed out of time. The cock’s head was smal}? —it being a pet game-cock which one young but enthusiastic admirer of Miss Kate had contri. buted, poultry being anything but plenty at the fort—its neck thoroughly greased, and even as he gave vent to his iuaph, Comstock felt the cock slip through his fingers and flutter a dozen yards away. The moment the judge saw that Comstock’s “pluck” had succeeded, he gave the signal fof the trumpeter to sound the melee, and as though impelled by the same®force the twelve ridere sped forward. Happy Jack had the advan- tage of position, and was half-way to the spot when the game-cock went fluttering from Com- stock’s hand. Then it was that both horse and rider began to display a skill and activity that called forth cheers both Joud and long, Unluckily for its ehances of escape, the bird had got its eyes full of sand besides being sadly bewildered by the rough usage it had received at the hands of Comstock. reely had it re- covered its feet when Happy Jack was beside it, and stooping low, firmly grasped its legs, then sped toward the distant post, with a clear, ringing shout that thrilled the nerves of every contestant much as the “picking” of a banjo touches the springs of a darkey’s heels. Happy Jack rode in strict Indian fashion, without saddle or bridle, a peal. of buffalo-hide being securely strapped upon the spotted mus- tang’s back. To the stout horse-hair girth were attached several stout loops, while the long mane was knotted together in a style decidedly more useful than ornamental. The use of these de- vices was speedily made manifest. With loud shouts, the contestants rushed af- ter the scout who was steadily nearing the turn- ing-post. To all present it seemed as though Happy Jack was urging his mustang to ite highest speed, yet he was rapidly being over- hauled; but then Bill Comstock inned broad- ly. He read the solution of Old Paint’s sudden loss of speed. Just before him rode the half-breed, Indian Dan, mercilessly lashing his big horse with a small coil of rawhide. On this Comstock kepfi his cye, believing as he did that Captain Stone had come to some understanding with the fel- low that involved foul play, And a moment ae had the sl oe of his Age He saw the savage quickly se te the twisted coils and stoop low in the jaale as his big horse forged alongside the scout, and giving his mus- tang the spur, Comstock glided Soewent, justin time. Indian Dan cast his noosed rope at the forefoot of Old Paint, but at the same moment a strong hand grasped his foot and hurled him violently from the saddle, completel¥ foiling his dastardly attempt. All this had Sasiauired quicker than words can describe, but the momentary delay was en- ough to bring up the crowd of pursuers, so ex- cited that not one had observed Comstock’s action, taking the half-breed’s tumbles as one of the natural incidents of the sport. Then it was that Happy Jack slione forth ix all his glory as a_consummate tactician and skilled horseman. He was surrounded upon all hands by eager horsemen, each grasping quick- ly at the fluttering cock, crowding and pressing around and bringing Old Paint almost to a standstill, Among all none seemed more eager than Bill Comstock, though one in the secrets would have seen that he was actually aiding. Happy Jack, and urging the melee on to the now near turning-post. Then it was that Old Paint played his part in genuine mustang style, biting, ching and plunging ly ae the horses crowded him, all the time edging slowly but steadily toward the . And Ha Jack—a dozen eyes could not have followed motions. Now erect, te ay cook high above the wildly-gesticulating ds, now lying low upon Old Paint’s back; again, han: one foot in a loop, his body almost touching the trampled sands, first on one side, then the oth- er, and more than once slipping entirely to the ground when pressed too close; but all the time working his way toward the boundary, never once losing his grasp upon the now loud- Y-sqi cock. Then, for the first time, he called upon Old Paint, and right nobly the mustang respond plunging ahead with an impetus that would enied, bursting clear through the crowd and sweeping around the boundary post, Ha py Jack holding the cock aloft that all might see, then making a bold sweep over the i e spo m devel: a burst that astonish z bed ay phen who rated him ac- cording to his i , Though now leading the ruck, Ha) Jack saw that his work was not hatin Just abreast him rode one man, who thus far had been contented with hanging w the edge of the Fined though elosely ine a move lim | oe R OO waa Sm 4a ta eee n-ne nwt @«@A4 @& = ete 4, Se Nee? ae
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x rf a “= {are ae eS: _ “one word with you in private—” 1d held in reserve. unless there was a ready the distance was so short that he could lainly read the sneering smile that curled Cap- in Stone’s lips, and in that moment he felt that he would rather suffer death than defeat at the hands of such a man. Yet he dare not slacken his speed, for that would be to plunge again into the thick of the crowd, and his exer- tions were beginning to tell upon Old Paint, who had covered over a hundred miles within the last forty hours. He had little time for thought. The goal was now close at hand, and Captain Stone could af- ford to dally no longer. He loosened the rein, and the big black was beside Old Paint almost atabound. And in the one instant that inter- vened, Happy Jack read the purpose of' his ri- val. He saw the devlish glitter in the stern black eyes, he read the vicious smile as the strong hand pulled hard upon the cruel curb. The black horse reared high in the air—then pronced madly forward as the rein was sudden- y relaxed, his hoofs striking fairly upon the ‘spotted mustang’s back, just where Happy Jack had been sitting an instant before, crushing him to the earth, and almost losing its own footing. : A cry of horror arose from the gathering, as they saw the mustang go down—but then a wild, prolonged, and enthusiastic cheer arose, as they ‘suw tho scout leap from the ground and alight up- on the black horse, directly behind the soldier— saw him struggle for an instant with his rival, ‘then guide the black horse swiftly on—on to the winning post. They saw that he still held the cock, that his arms held those of Captain Stone pressed close to his side, his own hands grasping the reins and bird, as he paused before the judge, who promptly nodded his head. Then the scout sprung lightly to the ground, with an absurdly polite bow to the almost suf- focated captain, whose lips fairly frothed with rage and mortification. CHAPTER II, WILD SPORTS OF THE PLAINS. “Grvm me a knife—a pistol, somebody— quick!” snarled Captain Stone, fairly crazed by the loud cheers and peals of laug! 74 that arse greeted the bold ea of the scout. ou! IJ’ll tear your heart out!” and he sprung 0 the ground, striding toward the smiling scout, evidently bent on mischief, “Here you've got it, cap’n,” eried Bill Com- stock, as he leaped between tho two, confront- ing the infuriated officer with a cocked and leveled revolver. ‘‘Here’s the bull-pup you sg haa fer—an’ its bite means sudden death, ) ‘“‘That’s enough, pard:” cried Happy Jack thrusting the scout aside with a see hand, *“You mean well, but I don’t need any man to fight my battles. v “Down with that weapon, Comstock! down I say, Si yeur arm will Beare re the shorter!” out a stern, comman: voice, as Colonel Markham fragt to the ant, his saber flash- ing brightly. “And you, Captain Stone—a fine Soars you are setting the men! shame, sir!” ‘ ‘* He insulted me—it was a foul trick—” “And how much better was your own con+ duct—or rather, how much worse? Bah! do ou think te daunt me with your black looks? watched ‘Aa closely—I saw your every moye- ment, and you succeeded in your attempt. a man would be lying out yonder with a fahben) back, instead of that poor horse. No reply, sir; consider yourself lucky that I do not order you ander guard for attempted murder.” “1t was but the a uw “74 “ war, Mest nl in- terposed Happy Jack. am content to pass at by, ected: here need no more be said,” For my conduct needs any defense, it will not | try be made through your lips,” said Captain Stone suddenly recovering his usual dall-posieeston' “Tientenant Blake, you will please cancel that debt. And now, sir,” he continued, as the money staked was placed in the scout’s hands, “Not another word!” firmly cried Colonel ‘Markham. “ Captain Stone, you will come with an instant the eager spectators believed he captain was shout to give an angry re- but they were disappointed. Salutin, h playin’ the fool, jist ae, “an’ I'd ’a’ let r, ef you hadn’t he same. on my ac- Idon’t often cut into ‘nothe ’s pl CARER euce it the very fust time I saw you tallin’ to got Bill Comstock to him; I knowed thar'’d be a diffikilty; I saw | blood atween ye—the heart’s blood o’ one o’ ye. I know you don’t take no stock in sech things; but I’ve seen ’em proved, time an’ ag’in, an’ 1 never read the medicine wrong yet! Ef T—ef I was to ax it as a favor, wouldn’t you w’ar this?” touching the gayly embroidered pouch upon his breast. “And leave you defenseless against witches and spooks? No, pard; I know you are in sober earnest, and I thank you, but at the same time you must let me go my own way. Only—I will | not take any step toward settlement with this gentleman, withOut’ tirst consulting you.” “Good enough! We'll let it goat that, An’ now—I reckon you hain’t fergot the good old greased style? Brace up, an’ show these blue- | coats how a true mountain man kin put on the inewine style! Yender she is, a-lookin’ straight inisamer, to see which one o’ us is the pur- tiest!” Happy Jack glanced toward the pavilion, and a faint flush tinged his cheek as ho saw Kate Markham, seated beside her parent, but with her bright eyes unmistakably dwelling upon himself. Acting upon an impulse, he plucked several long feathers from the cock’s back and bound them together with a slender curl of hair which he severed from his head with a knife | Then, releasing the cock, he sprung lightly uP the pavilion steps and advanced toward the lit- tle group of ladies, uncovering his head as he | did so. More than one dainty cheek flushed, and more than one heart fluttered with unwont- ed rapidity as the tall, handsome scout paused before them with a low, deep bow that was grace itself, but then Happy Jack bent his knee before Kate Markham and placed the tuft of feathers gently upon her lap. “* Ay! accept it, Kate!” heartily cried Colonel Markham, un eoding the bitter curse that hiss- ed through the grating teeth of the officer be- side him, ‘’Tis a compliment you may well be Lich Naa trophy gallantly won against such s! “And asa token that I do fully appreciate the compliment—though there are many ladies here far more worthy the honor—I beg you to accept this favor, Sir Knight—and may you bear it to victory in whatever you undertake,” eried Kate, her ca tage pec hing eyes bely- ing the mock solemnity of her face, as she took the scarlet ribbon from her hair and pinned it upon the scout’s left breast. **T will uphold it with my life, lady,” quietly replied Happy Jack, but there was a stead ivw in his large eyes that caused the fair chee ET SO a a a Dla The Long Haired *Pards.’ ~~ burn and bere ong after the scout had bow- ed low and quitted the stand. “Three cheers fer the cock 0’ the walk!” M - ed a shrill voice, as Happy Jack sprung lightly to the ground, and a queer-looking mounted upon as queer a horse, flung his greasy hat high into the air, and led the wild chorus with an. ear-splitting screech that would have shamed the wildest wail ofa bagpipe. ‘‘ Hur- ray fer hur—_ Whoa! ye or’nary brute—whoa !” evidently half-distracted with the uproar— for the band struck up at the same moment— the nuge, rawboned brute upon which the stran- per was mounted began to plunge, back and ick as though desirous of instituting a circus wholly upon its own hook. i “Hurray fer—dog-gone the pesky critter! whoa! har, now—I say! don’t somebody want to buy a hoss? Warranted sound as a dollar, an’ gentler nor a lamb—no bad tricks— Wall, I ber-durned!” he spluttered, as. the ani- mal’s heels went up and its master turned a somersault in the air alighting fair and square upon his feet, still holding the reins. i ‘* How are you, lamb /” snickered a soldier. “ Thet’s the way I al’ays git off whenever ’m in a hurry,” grinned the stranger. ‘ Now, jest take a squint at thet ’ar gelorious animule! Aiv't he a pictur’ fit fer framin’ an’ hangin’ on the wall fer ye to look at whenever ye feel lone- ly an’? downhearted? I tell you, gentlemen, they ain’t money enough in this ’ere gelorious ken- c pe buy one side o’ thet noble critter—no, sir , ‘You traveled in the night, coming here did- n’t you, stranger?” aod AT) Tem” wos the reply, slightly pus- “T knew it! If you hadn't, the crows ’d’a’ picked you op afore you got half-way!” I knowed a young feller oncet thet tried to make fun o’a old man an’ his hoss, an’ afore night he tuck ae an’ died,” solemnly said the stranger. ‘‘Felks do say he was too durned smart, an’ it jest sorter struck in an’ he died. But, don’t send fer the doctor jest yi, young feller—I don’t reckon you'll gounder thet way! all and gaunt, the stranger bore his age with no other trace of decay than in his long hair and heavy beard'of snow-white hue. His garments would have ascarecrow,so patched and ‘ed were beat bi though the brace of revolvers in his belt, the short, ppt Bn hat he bore, were evidently of the finest, pattern, and richly ornamented with silver and gold. #0) AN “ve seen him afore, somewhar,” muttered _to his friend, and, low as his’ tones were, the stranger must have ¢ them, for he instantly uttered: i | circle. The arrows were oe | it fairly bristled arrows. Ne the a of the taut PIG SR CR tne sen 3 ** Pye bin thar more times than you kin count, pard, Take a good, squar’ look an’ see ef you cain’t place me. No?’ as the scout slowly shook his head with a puzzled air. ‘Sich is life! what’s the use o’ livin’ when a feller’s fer- otten afore he’s remembered? Not a durnect bit! But that don’t matter, jest now. When's the circus goin’ to open up ag’in? I’m ina hur- ry to git back to the ole women an’ children—’f any o’ you fellers is married you don’t wan! to ax the reason why. Whoa! thar—you Prickly P’ar—whoa |} opmehody Ketch holt an’ hold his hind feet, thar!” squealed the stranger, as his horse began dancing nervously mrcamniiat the sound of the bugle. As those who were acquainted with the pro- gramme knew, this was the signal for the first contest at shooting—-confined to the soldiers, with military rifles, The target was the ordi- nary circular one, placed two hundred yards distant, each man having three shots off-hand, for suitable prizes. The competition was of lit- tle interest save to those more immediately con- cerned, and to the pincer who kept those around him in high spirits by his quaint re- marks, I “That war purty fa’r shootin’,” he said, preas ing into the crowd that surrounded the flushed winner of the first prize. ‘ Purty fa’r shootin’, considerin’—” i “Can you do better?” hotly exclaimed the sol er. “*T don’t know how it ’d be with one o’ them things,” eying the mili rifle curiously, “But { wouldn’t mind tryin’ of it, ef so be the boss ’d agree. Jest fer fun, ye know. I couki n’t bet nothin’, ’cause I b’long to the church— leastways, my old woman does,” “You shall have a trial, my friend,” laughed Colonel Markham; ‘‘ and if you succeed in beat- ing Fletcher's score, I'll duplicate the prize he won, “T don’t ax nothin’ I don’t win fa’r,” bluntly cE a the old man, accepting the proffered rifle and striding to the score, The eager spectators saw that he was no novice with the rifle, and when his three shota were fired, a dozen sped away to fetch the tar. get. The old man smiled grimly as a low mur mur of wonder ran through the crowd when the result was seen; the three bullets had complete. ly cut out the center of the target, leaving a triangular hole as perfectly outlined as though drawn with a compass, “Td ’a’ putt them all in one, ondly I knowed some o’ you fellers’d sw’ar I’ missed the hull signb: ” chuckled the stranger. “ Anybody could do that!” ‘You don’t mean you could do better?” ‘“Mebbe not—onl know this: I was hired oneet at a shot-tower fer to make bars o! lead, Powder was plenty, an’ they was heaps 0’ pine logs layin’ round loose, so ’'d jest oft a mile or two an’ bore them logs chuck-full o’ lead bars—puttin’ one bullet on top o’ nother ontel they each one weighed jest half a pound. That way I Fa I could shoot right peert— nur I ’t fergot how yit.” “You can handle the long bow pretty wel), too,” dryly remarked Colonel Markham, as ho turned away. Again the bugle sounded a change of pre- gramme, and the judge, arising, aloud tho conditions eee the contest for the next prize, which was to be awarded to the man dis- playing the greatest skill as marksman, with whatever weapon he a. select, There was to be no particular target, no set rules govern- ing the competition. minent among the entries were the two scouts and the stranger, and, as the interest of all the spectators became centered in he doings of these three, the feats of the others may as well be over in silence. Bill Comstock and Happy Jack—the latter mounted upon Simoom, a magnificent blood- bay stallion, worth a king’s ransom—rode forth upon the leyel plain where their maneuvers might be unhampered, and separating, begun sweeping around in a circle, eeping directly opposite each other, and divided by about fifty ards of space. As in the game of el gallo, me rode in striet In fashion, while Comstock used saddle and bridle. The former bore a stout bow and quiver full of arrows; the latter his revolvers, while a small i ve Incian shield of buffalo-t was upon his .6ft arm, Ata re fesas gallop the horses circled: around, then Happy Jack suddenly disappeared! behind his steed’s body. The spec ators heard a twang, and an arrow flashed from be- neath the bloed-bay’s eke Pita amped later the scout’s pistol spoke sh . Ashe ea mntenreia fac the crowd tk cheer arcs as they saw the fea’ ered shaft quiverin, ep in the hair-atufted shield. and again pet wstring, answered revolver, and even the two ar y the 2) Me orses seemed to catch oo of the will drama, flying swifter and swifter around th : re sped oftener shorter intervals, but the eagle-eyed, nerved scout was to the ch time the | = “SOR. A x ; , until a sl
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4 Dime by one arm through the knotted mane, now danglins by one foot, his head almost sweeping the sar!, Happy Jack discharged his arrows with a s!ill that was little short of marvelous; not one +f them but would have carried death to his. versary but for the dextrously-managed shield. ‘Then the last arrow was sped, Comstock fired his twelfth bullet, and rising erect the two scouts galloped back to the judge’s stand. Comstock handed him the shield, in which bristled twenty-four arrows; not one had been missed... Happy Jack passed up his broad- brimmed sombrero, in the crown of which could ba counted twelve distinct holes... Until now the spectators had fancied Comstock had fired’ at random, since their movements had been so rapid that no one noticed when Happy Jack would thrust the hat above his horse’s back. “7 yeckon you fellers ll hev to ’vide that rifle round atween ye,” grinned the old man, hearti- ly adding his congratulations to the rest. ‘‘’m gittin’ inost too old to play sech tricks as them, an’ ef | was to try, like enough Prickly P’ar, thar, *is°t up a circus on his own hook an’ spile the hull thing.” “4 game is never lost until it is played out, stranger,” replied Happy Jack. ‘ Your eye is as keen and your hand as true as it ever was, and if you can repeat your score with that clumsy blunderbuss, you should be able to show us something even better with such a weapon as you carry.” ‘It’s the one I used to make lead bars with,” chuckled the stranger, ‘She kin speak thirt times without stoppin’ fer breath, an’ never tell a lie through the hull sarmon. No, I won’t back out, seein’ I’ve shipped in, but you fellers must- n't laugh ef the old man don’t pan out as well as ye ‘spected,” and he glided off toward the pavilion, where he quiekly found what he re- quired—a broad board some eight feet long, which he shouldered and marched out upon the prairie for a few score yards, when, by the aid of his knife, he soon planted the board firmly in the ground, standing on end. Then he uttered a sharp whistle, and a wretched-looking Indian shambled heavily to- ward him. Aftera moment’s conversation, the old man returned and took up his rifle. The Indian now stood beside the board, one hand placed flat against it, the fingers widely out- read . ‘Somebody count out five, jest about like a clock would tick,” cried the strdnger, taking his stand, The aus ¢ complied, each word being drown- ed by ihe sharp explosion of the old man’s rifle —an ‘‘ Evans,” by the way. ‘That's the fust act,” cried the stranger, with a low laugh. ‘‘Somebody go see whar them bullets hit.” neh The judge himself, restraining the ae crowd, hastened to inspect the target. Hoe found a bullet-hole at the end of the Indian’s thumb and each finger, planted with such skill that one-sixteenth of an inch nearer would have cut the flesh! As soon as the target was clear, the Indian placed his back to the board, standing erect, and uttered a clear cry. At the signal the rifle was leveled and discharged so rapidly that the reports seemed blended in one long roll. ‘Tain’t much at writin’ with a pen, but I’m the boy as kin jest beat snakes a-markin’ out of a Injun’s head,” cried the marksman, with a shrill, reckless iaupe Pale and excited, rpecting the target. “J must protest against such a reckless risk of life, colonel,” he exclaimed. “‘I found the marks of those twenty shots ranged around the Indian’s head so closely that they must have fairly grazed his skin!” ‘“Ax the red skin ef thar was any danger, boss,” grinned the stranger. ‘Ax him, an’ he’ll tell you he’d stan’ up all day at twice the distance fer a quart o’ whisky.” ‘‘That may be, but if there is any more such exploits to come, there must be another judge. As it is—though you refuse to give your name, I must award you the prize. There is nothing that can approach your display—either in stea- diness of nerve or skill.” ‘You want my name—the hull on it’d be a movthful big enough to choke a mule, but Pll ony show ye the ’nitials; the rest kin wait fer he next prize I win,” and with another. pecu- liar langh the stranger discharged both revol- vers in rapid succession at the board; and when tho judge returned from in- Library. oe the larger tables not to be much disturbed by the rather boisterous merriment of the “boys in blue” and their companions. The “spread” was one that did the colonel honor; ca had sible, he stood higher than ever in the estima- tion of his men when that board was cleared— as it was, with astonishing celerity. there were a few grumbling remarks at the offi- they, the privates such a course. “Td give one month’s pay jest to know when | an’ whar I’ve seen that feller afore,” remarked table and strolled back to the ground, filling their pipes for a smoke. “Ef it wasn’t him, then it was some close kin to him. But to save me, I cain’t place him.” “Speak of the devil—” laughed Happy Jack, as the tall, awkward figure of the stranger came in view, ‘‘He’s coming to.give you another chance, old boy.” “Gentlemen,” quoth the old man, dropping down beside them and thrusting a stumpy clay pipe in one corner of his mouth, then chipping tobacco from a huge plug, ‘‘ they’s one thing I want to ax: is this ere the kind o’ work Uncle Sam pays you sojer fellers to do? A-shootin’ an’ a-kickin’ around in play, which ye gets paid for, an’ grub throws: in—sech grub! I’ve ett an’ ett ontel, actilly, my clo’es is two sizes too small fer me! Ef this is the reg’lar line o’ away!” “Scarcely,” laughed Happy Jack. ‘This is a holiday, thanks to Colonel Markham and his fair daughter, I’m afraid you would soon grow diepanted with serving in the ranks—though, unless I am mistaken, you would shine as a scout.” ‘“ Which is her?” asked the stranger, after he had borrowed a light of Comstock. ‘‘ You see I’m a stranger in these parts, an’ when I come down, my old woman she made me promise to find out everything, so I could tell her all about the doin’s when I got back ag’in.” Happy Jack pointed out Miss Markham as the gay party, abandoned the table for the pavilion. “A right en lookin’ gal!” muttered the stranger, following Kate’s graceful motions with a strangely intent gaze. ‘‘Treckon they lied when they said she was gwine to ride in the race this arternoon?” ‘* Byes lg pard!” hastily muttered Com- stock. ‘‘Thar’s snakesaround!” and he slightly nodded his head toward the figure of Captain Stone, who was slowly approaching them. Happy Jack arose to his feet as the officer Saaned yefore him. Though unusually pale, the captain had lost all trace of his mad rage and mortification, and when he spoke his voice was calm and even. ‘Will you favor me with half a dozen words in private, Mr.—” You can call me Happy Jack, captain. As for the rest, I am entirely at your service. Gen- tlemen, will you oblige us?” With one warning glance, Comstock turned away, together with the stranger, but though he passed beyond ear-shot, he kept close enough to witness all that transpired. “T know what you:anticipate,” said Stone, quietly; ‘‘but that is not my object just at pre- sent. I was obliged to pass my word to Colonel Markham, or else be placed under guard. I did pledge it, for this one day. Isee you un- derstand me. Now listen. There is no need of beating ’round the bush. I took an intense dis- like to you at the first sight of your face, and I know that you do not exactly love me. Just why we need not inquire. You defeated me once. Iask another chance. You have a noble horse, and I have another. I challenge you to ride against me this afternoon. If I lose, you may name the forfeit; if I-win, I will claim the same right. Do you agree?” “To ride the race? yes; but I prefer that the stakes be named beforehand,” quietly respond- ed Happy Jack. ‘‘As you know, I am a simple scout, and my pay—” “What I ask will not break you,” interrupted Stone, with a harsh, forced laugh. “It isa mere fancy of mine—that knot ef ribbons upon your breast.” “T thought as much! Wo, Captain Stone, you haven’t wealth epough to stake against this, it was brought in, the board bore two letters Sgoge by twelve bullet-holes; the letters ‘L. CHAPTER ITI. NEW ACTORS ON THE STAGE. As it was now considerably past the meridian, and all was in readiness, Colonel Markham gave the signal, and gabey Mrs. Major Mackintosh, led the way to the re- freshment tables, which were placed at the northern wall of the fort, covered from the sun’s rays by an ample canvas ceiling. Despite the gen relaxation of discipline—for that occa- sion only—there were different tables for the different ranks; the officers and their ladies Yning by theioselves, far enough removed from ' offering his arm to |. even though you flung your own life in the bal- ance against it.” ‘‘ A noble guardian for a lady’s favor!” sneer- ed the officer, ‘‘The ribbon should have been snow-white, to match the heart it covers!” ““You have said more than enough, Captain Stone,” sternly uttered the scout, ‘ Hands are tied here, but repeat those words to-morrow. and I will cram them down your lyin -throat!? “You shall have the chance—then it is agreed?” he added, in a changed tone, as he caught sight of Colonel Markham hastening to- ward the spot. ‘‘ Colonel, you will be witness? gentleman and I have agreed to run our horses, the winner to take both.” Colonel Markham glanced inqui at Happy Jack, who promptly accepted th tion, and replied: spared neither pains nor expense, and, if pos- | True, | cers having an unlimited supply of liquor, while | were allowed but one dram; | | but the majority full y recognized the wisdom of Bill Comstock to his friend, as they left the | duty, then I’m gwine to jine the calverly right | “Yes; we have agreed to run one mile—around the stake yonder—and return; his blaek against. Simoom.” “T am glad it is no more,” was the hearty re- ly. ‘*{ was afraid your hot heads were carry- ing you too far. I will act as judge—though Tam sorry for you, captain. Nothing short of lightning on four feet can touch glorious old Simoom.” ‘* And I would rather go afoot the rest of m life, than to ride a horse that owns a superior,” laughed Stone. ‘Shall it be decided at once, or after the other races?” Pa Just as this gentleman prefers,” replied the officer. “Tf left to me, I say the sooner the better. You know, colonel, that I have been in the sad-~ dle for, three days past, nor have I closed my eyes since night before last. Naturally enough I feel somewhat tired and sleepy.” “Very well; get your animals peachy: I will postpone the other races for a few minutes.” Happy Jack quickly informed Comstock of all that had passed between himself and the captain, then saddled and bridled his blood- bay, riding over to the judge’s stand, where Colonel Markham declared the conditions of the race. The contestants were to run to the post which served as boundary in the game of el gal- lo; they were to turn the post from right te left, then back home, the first comer to possess both horses. At the word, both animals darted away swift as arrows fresh from the bow, stretching out long and low as their sinewy limbs devour: ed the space, eying each other in fi rivi { thundering on, with every nerve strained to ite utmost tension; but then Simoom gradually fell back—back until his hot breath found the bi black’s flank, and Captain Stone turned his hea’ for one swift, backward glance, a sneering smile curling his mustached lip. Happy Jack uttered a low laugh; he also was content, for he knew that the game lay in his own hands. He knew that Simoom was the black horse’s master, and was too fond of the no- ble stallion to run the slightest unnecessary risk. He had already seen how unscrupulous the offi- cer was when his evil passions were aroused, and knew, too, how easy it would be for the outside rider to crush his adversary against the post in turning around it—an “accident” that could be plausibly explained, where both par- ties had so much at stake. Steadily the black horse drew ahead until he was fairly clear, and the turning-post was close at hand. Happy Jack pulled gua to the right, making a far wider sweep than Captain Stone was attempting, and turning smooth and evenly, while the big black lost its stride and nearly fell as the iron hand of its master wheel- ed him short around the post. Then the scout slackened his rein and spoke to Simoom. Right gallantly the bay responded running low and level, but with the wonderful stride of a grayhound at full speed. <A bitter curse broke from Captain Stone’s lips, and he drove his spurs rowel deep into the black’s ribs; but the fates were against him. Foot by foot, gerd by Pity the blood-bay for; ahead, an appy Jack landed him a winner, “hands down,” by fifty yards, amid the enthusiastic cheers of the erowd. Livid with suppressed rage, Captain Stone dismounted, and led the panting black up to the victor. ** You have won the race} here is the horse; take him, he is yours,” said Captain Stone, in a low, strained voice. “He is a- noble animal, and deserves better fare than he would receive at my hands, a poor scout. Oblige me by keeping him, captain,” courteously said the scout. f “Do I understand you to say that you refuse to accept the wager you have fairly won?” said Stone, his cheek flushing. “Tf you will alow me. The honor of defeat- ing such an animal is ample reward.” ‘Give me room—stand aside there,” cried Stone, as he wheeled the’ black him a few yards distant. Then, before any one could divine hts purpose, he thrust a revolver against the poor brute’s ear’, and fired. The horse fell dead, with scarcely a struggle, and Captain Stone strode swiftly to the fort, and disappeared within its gates, Perhaps it was the wisest move he ¢ould make, for many were the hot sean made by the indignant spectators of the brutal deed, and harshly and led ‘few present but openly declared that the nobler brute of the two had suffered a fate far more befitting the other. ‘Then the carcass was ged away,and the regular races began. Neither of the twoscouts entered, but the stranger did, and once more he astonished the’natives. His gaunt, big-boned, croo ked-limbed horse showed a turn of speed that astonished all, and its ungainly rider exhibited a specimen of jockeying that would have peered the eyes of many a profes- sional rider. ere were three heats, ever the same course as that ridden by the two men; half a dozen men rode in each heat, and it was arranged that the winners of each heat were to run an extra course, to de the first, second, and third prizes; but this was obvia-
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sound the charge. Never perhaps was fidelity oY ’ The Long a — ted, by the stranger taking the three straight heats with apparent ease. The old man seemed fairly wild with joy, and Many were the wonderful tales he told of what Ebenezer, his horse, could do; nor had he con- cluded when the ladies reappeared, ready mounted for the concluding sport of the day. Two powerful grayhounds were held in leash, while a couple of soldiers, each bearing a box trap, ran out upon the level plain, pausing some two hundred yards in advance. Each trap contained a full-grown “‘ jack rabbit ”—the prai- rie substitute for a fox. Kate Markham was mounted upon a clean- limbed, fiery little chestnut, and bewitchingly charming she looked in the saddle—as Happy Jack caught himself acknowledging. Close be- side him rode the forlorn-looking red-skin, who had acted as the old man’s target. The stran- ger, himself, kept well in the crowd, his horse prancing and plunging like an overgrown colt. Then the word was given—the traps wero sprung; out leaped the “mules,” and with the unleashed grayhounds in pursuit, darted away like two white-tailed comets. With a joyous, ringing ‘‘view halloo!” the excited riders spurred after, eager to be in at the death. But not all. The big horse, ridden by the stranger, seemed to have taken a sudden disin- ¢lination to run, and began a series of pranc- ings, directly in front of Kate, who was forced to fairly rein in her horse. Happy Jack turned to aid her, when the savage, who had kept by his side, dealt him a furious blow upon the head that knocked him clean from the saddle, then hastened toward the maiden. At the same mo- ment the stranger grasped her bridle-rein and urged her horse at right angles to the chase, head- ing direct for the hills, little more than a half- mile distant. Kate uttered a sharp cry of in- dignant surprise, but before she could do more, the Indian was beside her and his strong hand held her forcibly in the saddle. The shriek was heard, and cries of wondering surprise came from the hunting-party. Turn- ing his head, the stranger aac a long, ring- ing yell, then rode awiftly Oni.) 5 A prolonged echo came from the hills; then, from another wooded defile, dashed a horse- man, followed by another, and another—yelling and hooting, flourishing rifles and lances, riding straight toward the almost defenseless fort. CHAPTER Iv. A RACE FOR LIFE. -HarpD and sure the vagabond red-skin had ‘struck, his bony fist alighting upon the scout’s neck, just below the ear, and Hanbe Jack was hurled headlong from tho, saddle, for the mo- ment fully convinced that he had run afoul of a miniature earthquake, Then, satisfied that he had fully carried out his master’s orders and ’in- sured the success of the bold abduction by plac- ing hors du combat the only one of the entire ay who could have overtaken the big horse, he Indian spurred forward to aid his master in what remained to be done, , _ The loud, ringing yell that carried a thrill of horror and consternation to the hearts of the pale-faces, also served asa signal to the ambush- ved savages, who broke cover, charging at break- eck = directly for the big folding gates of Fort Western, evidently calculating on cutting olf the hunting-party from regaining the walls, and thus rendering a double victory almost as- sured, Straight on the two men thundered. ine pale and bewildered Kate Markham phe snorting horse between them, nor drawing rei until the charging savages opened their Sate and gave them free passage. Then the old man wrenched up his animal, flinging the reins to the Indian with a few hasty words, spoken in the Brule Sioux dialect. “Take the squaw to the hills, Ground Hog, and guard her with your life!” Then, sounding again his wild war-whoop, the old man thundered after his fierce warriors, eager to act his part in the dread drama of life or death. : penny Far different now from the sluggish, idiotic seeming brute of a few hours previous, was the Ground Hog as, one hand still grasping the maiden’s arm, he sat in the saddle and ct upon the thrilling scene, drinking in each de-. ‘tail with glowing eyes, his nostrils dilating like ‘those of a fiery war-horse as it hears the bugle More severely tried than at that moment—the intense longing to dash forward and revel in the rj}an awkward affair, Fe yond, though his hand still mechanically clutch- ed her arm, and instantly came a desperate re- solve to risk all on one bold endeavor to escape. She saw the knife-hilt protruding from among the rags at his waist, ae instantly snatched at it. Her grasp was true—the weapon easily slipped from its sheath, and as the Ground Hog turned to her with an angry exclamation she drew the keen blade swiftly across the back of his hand. With a yell of surprise and pain the savage re- leased her arm, and without an instant’s hesita- tion she urged her horse toward the fort, Hard. as Ground” Hog had struck, Happy Jack was not one to easily go under, and al- most before the abductors met the charging savages he was upon his feet, but little the worse for his taeatias At one glance he read the truth, and as quickly marked out his course. A single ery brought Simoom to his side, and vaulting into the saddle the scout, a revolver in either hand, swept along in front of the charg- ing savages, pouring shot after shot into their crowded ranks, and emptying more than one saddle-blanket before the savages could reply. As a bullet hurtled by him Happy Jack sunk be- hind Simoom, urging the noble brute on, sweep- ing around’the enemy’s flank—and before him Haired ‘Pards.’ he saw Ground Hog and his fair captive, just as the maiden made her bold stroke for freedom: fe glanced behind him as an arrow cut his shoulder, and saw that all chance of «reaching the fort was cut off. Half a dozen mounted Sioux were thundering forward upon his track. Happy Jack saw this, and so did Kate Mark- ham, But close behind her came Ground Hog, transformed into a yeritable demon by the stinging wound he had received, uttering fierce threats none the less impressive because spoken in an unknown tongue. “ Wheel to the right—ride hard, and trust to me, lady!” shouted, Ha) py Jack, touching Simoom with the spur. or your life do not hesitate !”’ The words came clear and distinct. to the ear of the maiden, and were so earnest that they commanded an unhesitating obedience. Wheel- ing sharply to the right, Kate plied both whip and spur with right good will, while, with a yell of delight, Ground Hog plunged forward to eut her off. Betterfor hin: had he paid more attention to the other pale-face, whose magnifi- cent horse was rapidly lessening the distance between therm, whose steel-blue eye was al- ae, flashing at him over the leveled tube of death. On the quadruple chase sped, parallel to the long, unbroken ridge that fenced in the level plain upon the north, still on, leaving behind them the furious death-struggle where red and white foes were mingling their life-blood to- gether, still on, with every nerve strained to its utmost, both beast and rider doing their best. And now the complexion of the race changes, Though gallantly responding to its mistress’s call, the little chestnut mare has been too highly pampered to cope with the hardy mustang bestridden by Ground Hog. Slowly but surely the raging savage lessened the dis- tance, creeping alongside, his strong left hand outstretched to clutch his victim. But still more rapidly good Simoom was bearing its mas- ter on, leaving the yelling Sioux far behind. On—on! another leap—another mighty bound as the crimsoned spur touches his flanks; and then, at a well-understood signal, the blood-bay stallion runs low and even, steady almost as the barken canoe floats adown the placid cur- rent. And then the scout’s good revolver speaks, its sharp voice ringing the death-knell o Ground Hog, whose spirit has already starte for the Happy Hunting Grounds of his race when his body touches the earth, - “Keep are fe ahead, lady,” cried Happy ‘Jack, as Kate Markham turned her head at the pistol-shot. ‘“ We are chased, but the red-skins shall never harm one hair of your head while I can stand between,” ; / "The scout regulated his speed by that of the chestnut, keeping a few rods behind, while dex- ber 2 reloading his weapons. “He saw that the Sioux, six in number, had not been dis- couraged by the fall of Ground Hog, but were urging their ponies to renewed efforts. Bitter- he regretted not having his trusty rifle. ith it, he knew it would be comparatively easy to end the matter; without—his brow grew dark and no tee compressed as a desper- ate resolve gradually formed itself into a de- liberate purpose. At a word Simoom extended himself and uickly forged alongside the chestnut, and Kate arkham looked the gratitude her lips refused to form into words, eae sad ending to our day of pleasure, “My father—is he—” faltered Kate, strivin nae but in vain, iiren back the hot tears o woe. ; ‘* He is in the hands of One before whem will mare 1s" 7 — a ee ee, . eam tom er ars RED, I . on ae ge a EL i a Stop!” sharply cried the scout, his cheek flushing. ‘You a not know me, lady, or you would not insult me with such words.’ ‘*T—T did not think—” faltered Kate. “Tama brute for speaking so roughly, but your words hit hard, lady,” interrupted the scout, ina softer tone. “Though I am but a scout, poor enough at that, stilk-ludy, I trust I ama gentleman, and-as such 1 will stand be, tween you and danger while I have breath, There are bitter and relentless bloodhounds upon our trail, but I can and will foil them; I only ask that you trust; me,” “T could not help that, if I would,” more frankly replied Kate. “Whatever your com: mand, I will obey, if possible, But—are not those men overtaking us?” “They are too far off to work us any harm, as yet,” said Happy Jack, with a backward glance, “If the syn was an hour lower, wo could laugh at them. As it is—” ‘“ Well?’ asked Kate, as he hesitated. “The question will be settled in one way or the other before the sun sets. I have a plan . that I think will work—it must work!” he add- ed, decisively. ‘‘ Now listen. You must keep straight on, following near the foot of this range, until it grows dark. Then you must en- ter the hills. Try and leave as little trail as vossible. Do not lose sight of the open ground, mut keep well covered. Mako the best of your way back toward the fort. Once. within sight you can easily attract the attention of the gar- rison, then all will be well.” ‘* But you?” hesitated the maiden. T hope to be with you, lady, but it is best te be prepared for whatever may arise. By fol- lowing these directions, you will have a chanve for escape. Glance over your shoulder, You. can see how steadily those hounds are gaining upon us. There is only one way—I must check them. Remember, you have but one thing fo do. Spare your mare all you can, but press straight on. If you escape—as God grant you may!—tell the colonel I did the best I knew how. Now, lady, farewell, If I do not rejcin you before sunset, remember my directions; and remember, too, that—you will not be of fended? Never mind—I have no right to say it. Good-by—and God grant that we nicest ; again!” . a As he spoke these words, Happy Jack bent in the saddle and touched Simoom upon the fore- knee, As though the finger-tip had been a bul- let fresh from the gun, Simoom rolled over upon the sand. The scout alighted upon his fect, and sternly motioned Kate to keep on, as she half checked her mare. “Ride on—it is our only chance,” he cried aloud; and the maiden obeyed, though her heart was strangely heavy as she left the young scout behind. : With a stern smile, Happy Jack heard the exultant yells of the oncoming Sioux, and then he touched the bridle and Simoom struggled te his feet. The scout sprung into the saddle, and on a rae es Se ee ee now limped sorely, scarce touching its fore foot to the ed and the exultant may ages overhauled him hand over hand. And the panting, but game chestnut bearing the maiden was @stancing him nearly as rapidly., A bright smile chased away the stern look on the s:out’s face as he noted the frequent backward plonces cast by Kate, for he felt that they were not drawn forth entirely by \the pursuing sayv- ages. Baader the pursuers divided into threo equal portions, one poe steadily on after. the limping horse, the others gradually diverg- ing upon either side, so as to keep the scout in a direct line with the fleeing maiden, the latter four plying their rawhide whips with redoubled | era A , A deadly smile flitted athwart the scout’s face as he read the meaning of this maneuver. It was more than he had expected—more than he had dared to hope for. ‘* A little faster, my boy—so! If those hounds only knew you as well as I! the fools are court- a Hse epg h H Jack red seemed as thou appy d measw) his speed by that of the Sioux behind him, for as they slightly slackened their pace, so Simoom limped more perceptibly, until the four savages upon the flanks were nearly abreast their an- ticipated Brey, one with shrill yells began te close in upon r . Then | py Jack uttered a sharp cry—B8i- ‘moom ‘ieee at his touch, and dashed straight at the eet two, all traces of ton tee vanish : magic, Astonis' wildere the eavagen Lastity leveled their rifles and fired} but Happy Jack laughed derisively as he thun- dered on, untouched, a revolver in each hand, — a glowing devil in his eyes! 57a ; CHAPTER V, |
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6 Bi sudden and terrible change in the programme, and even: then some of the more enthusiastic sped on in the wake of the flying hounds and rabbits, thinking, if at all, the alarm was caused by one of those bloodless accidents so common among the less skillful hunters. But then arose the wild, uliar war-cry of the man who had Bo successfully deceived them all; and from that instant on, the four fleet animals hadthe race to themselves, and for a moment all was utter con- fusion. They saw the yelling savages burst forth “rom their ambush, and meet the. Eid abductors, saw them charging with headlong toward a int equidistunt with them and the /ort, and ew that if the savages gamed this position first, a massacre would be almost inevitable. Sharp and clear rung out the voice of Colonel Markham, calling his men fo rally around thela- ties, and right nobly was he obeyed. For the most part the riders were officers, and long ex- perience in plain life had taught them a lesson of which they new reaped the fruit. A few— among them éhe tolonel—had retained their sa- bers, while all were armed with tru revol- vers. With these in hand, the ladies placed in the ceuter, the little cavalcade of bold hearts headed for the fort gates at top speed. A hundred yards batare them rode Bill Com- stock, whose rifle had already brought forth the thrilling death-shriek, and whose revolvers now began to kk, as the painted demons thunder- edon. His shrill, reckless laugh rung out as he shot t the foremost red-skins, and found his wa: the fort unbarred save by the confused soldiers, who, lacking a leader, seemed unable even to retreat to the friendly walls. With a furious curse the scout rode into their midst. ‘‘ Out with your weapons an’ come on! Would you let the red devils massacree them women without you liftin’ one finger to hender? Come on! an’ show the red imps what Uncle Bam’s boys is made of!” ack rode the scout toward the spot where the hunting-party was surrounded, but each man battling in stern desperation against the over- whelming odds, making every bullet count, clos- ing in around the pale, speechless women as one i dle after another was emptied, and all the h time forcing their way tow: the fort despite \ the infuriated horde of bloedthirsty savages en- circling them. | Foremost is her assailants was the man | who had abducted Kate Markham, but far dif- fi ferent from the uncouth, slovenly bond of the festival. The cunningly-contrived wig and was gone, together with the heavy, tat- tered coat and vest. From one of his braves he . had snatched a long, heavy saber, and new re- peatedly a his blazing eyes fixed upon the face of Colonel Markham; but as often was he forced back without effecting his pur- With a revolver in each hand, Bill Comstock plunges into the thick of the melee, and after a urieus struggle, in which it seemed as though hé must go down, he effected his haa and joined the bleeding, lessening, but dauntiess d. Anda moment later, with wild cheers, the soldiers whom he had rallied, some mounted, others upon foot, opened fire upon the Sioux. With renewed energy the surrounded party forced their way forward as the savages waver- ed before this a in the rear. On, men—strike home!” shouted eColonel Markham, as the savages were thrown into confusion. ‘Once more and they. are ours!” It seemed as though he was right, for at their rush, ashril] cry arose from the sav leader, and as one man the Sioux braves drew back from the papery or ip and turned their ani- mals as though in flight. A hoarse cheer broke ram! the parched throats of the hunters, but was object of the Indians. - Riyal aid head tae a white oe Spend pe inly ho: s own upon the cro of soldiers. Saker MA oe and still lack- ing a leader in whom they could place seine, the boys in blue met them with an irregular vo! ley, but the next moment were scattered like And back came a shrill, taunting laugh as the Sioux followed their daring leader straight for the still open gates of the fort. i A fierce curse broke from the colonel’s lips as . he spurred forward. No need for orders now. Even the dullest ag hp knew that the _ crisis had come—that if the enemy once foothold within the fort, all was lost. There was nolonger thought of keeping up the hollow ‘square wherein the ladies had, thus far, found safety. C) was too great. And on the soldiers promptly rallying as their idolized leader shot past them, regaining their usual dis- cl ying ee it Oy pe ed But all seemed in vain. ' \The hindmost of the savages were fully two hundred yards ahead; to overtake them in time to prevent an entrance seemed impossible. But then a loud yA pens eer the colonels lips, and bidding all follow, he wheeled abrupt- dy to the left. And not one y aoe checked, as they saw the real renegade, savage, and traitor to his coun Dime Library. movement unmasking a six-pounder cannon. The savages realized their danger, but were not given time to avoid it. The cannon spoke, and a double charge of grapeshot tore through their crowded ranks, strewing the plain with dead and dying, men and horses falling like autumn leaves, before the well-aimed piece. ‘*Charge!” shouted Colonel Markham, leading the way, and through the demoralized mob of savages they plunged, Yeap not until the last man entered the friendly peorey ‘““To you we owe our lives and the safety of this fort!” cried the colonel, turning to the gun- ner, who received his words with a cold smile. ‘To these brave fellows, rather,” replied Cap- tain Stone—for he it was—motioning his hand toward the haggard soldiers who were wheeling the cannon aside, ‘‘ But for them I could have done little. The scare seemed to have complete- ly cured them—” “To the Ioops!” cried Markham, as the yell without changed to a roar of insane rage. ‘‘I will know how to thank you more fully, cap- tain, when we have driven off these red-skins—” Reckless with fury, the Sioux charged the fort, and were bravely met with a galling fire from the loops. Among the defenders was Bill Comstock, and as the enemy thundered up to attack the gate, he singled out their leader and covered his heart with an aim that seldom fail- ed. Nor was this time an exception, for as the rifle exploded, the chief flung up his arms and would have fallen headlong from the saddle had not two of his braves caught him in their arms. That lucky bullet ended the charge. A wild cry arose, and, bearing the fallen chief among them, the savages retreated in hot haste, not even stopping to remove their dead, finally dis- appearing within the defile from which they had sprung their ambush, a hearty cheer follow- ing them. ‘ ut all open exultation was speedily quelled, as the defenders looked sadly out upon the death- strewn plain, and then upon their sadly thinned ranks. Their loss had been too heavy for much Sir iy cam The two cannon—all that Fort Western could boast—were carefully trained upon the defile, and then parties were sent out to bring in the dead and wounded, This mournful duty was not completed until the sun had sunk to rest, and the last squad had a narrow escape from a strong party of the Sioux, who had managed to reach the plain unseen. From this it seemed that the end was not yet. A triple guard was placed along the walls, with strict orders to at any suspicious ob- ject. ; A group of officers were gathered in one of the quarters, among them Captain Stone, who now shared the honors of the fight with the scout, Bill Comstock, who was also present, For the time the brutal conduct of the captain was quite forgotten, since toit might be attributed his remaining within the fort instead of joining the ay en ease $ “An think I couldn’t place him—ugh!” runted Comstock, with a grimace of disgust. ‘I knowed I’d seen him afore, but whar, I couldn’t tell, he was so changed and rigged up. But ef ever we meet ag’in, medicine won't save the varmint!” _ “You are sure?” asked Lieutenant Blake. ‘‘T knowed it the fust time I heard his whi —it said Wurre Srovx all over!” was the confi- dent reply. ‘‘That accounts for it, then,” muttered the lieutenant. ‘‘ Twice, while we were out yonder, he had me within arm’s length, and my saber fast between a red-skin’s ribs, and he could have cut me down without an effort, but no—he could see only the colonel; even at the time I wonder- ed, but it’s all clear now!” | ‘Tt may be to you, but remember Iam anew- comer,” putin Captain Stone. ‘t‘ Who and what is the ‘ White Sioux? True, I’ve heard of him, as a notorious renegade, but why should he bear such particular enmity to the colonel?” fe rj is a long story, and goes back to the time when I was an ensign,” thoughtfully replied Blake, lighting a fresh cigar, ‘‘There is no secret about it, that I know of, though Ishouldn’t like the old man to overhear me. There may be some among us that will remember the name of Leroy Temple—a captain in the —th, near twenty years ago?” pa thought he was dead,” observed “T always one officer, , “He may be now, but he certainly was not this morning. You may stare, but Leroy Tem- ple, quceicn a in the regular service, is none other than the one we know as the White Si . 1b is a black story, and there may have been t on both sides; at least more one of our yo oux, pick my men, I’ll agree _ The seout : affected | rr i nt the colonel would ‘set’ on him at the slightest excuse. We didn’t know the reason then, | though we did before long, It was a woman, | of course. She was courted by them both, and, ; unlike most women, chose the double barsin: | stead of the eagle. Of course this made the col- | onel hot, and he kept both eyes open to catch | Temple in a slip; but for a time Jack was ae | ood as his master, so the old man had to take } it out in growling and fault-finding. You see, he’s changed a good deal since then. “Well, the time came at last, as it always | will, if one only has the patience to wait long » enough. I don’t just remember what it was; | some little infraction of discipline that, in any | other would never have been noticed; and Tem- | ple got an awful tongue-lashing, before us all, | on parade. The poor devil was in no mood to: stand it; as it came out afterward, he had been refused leave of absence, though his wife was very ill, and at the point of confinement. So he, instead of grinning and bearing it, retorted. The old man cursed him, and was knocked down for his pains. ‘*You can guess the next move. He was con- fined, then brought out to be tried before a court-martial, en the old man showed his hand, He didn’t want the man’s blood, but he did want him disgraced, The matter was pret-. ty much in his own hands, and the result was | that Temple was cashiered and sentenced to re- | ceive fifty lashes. I know what you would say—it was a flagrant abuse of authority; nevertheless, it was just as I say: the poor devil was broken and flogged like a hound, , “That night he broke guard—killed one fel- ~ low, and escaped. He was hunted hard, but | we never laid ve on him again for years. As we found out, he made his way to St. Louis, where he found his wife had died in child-bed. She had been doing well enough, when she saw in the paper the sentence which had been exe- cuted upon her husband; and I verily believe ~ that killed her. ‘Tt hit the old man mighty hard, too; and he got a long leave of absence, which he spent: | abroad, That, yore ene saved his life, for such a man as this ite Sioux has turned out. to be, wouldn’t have hesitated long before—” : At this moment the door swung open and Col- ; onel Markham entered, so pale and unlike his: usual self that more than one of those } Bais believed he had heard the tragic tale of Leroy Temple; but if he had, that was not the object — of his interruption, as they soon learned. 9 “ Gentlemen,” and as he spoke his voice trem- bled, ‘I come to ask your advice. I know not — where else to turn, and if you fail me then my last hope is gone! You know that my daughter is gone—carried aff by that—” 4 Not fur, colonel,” ye inte Bill “My oo 44 Jack—he took her away from them, and the last I saw they was makin’ ama fer the west, a wheen o’ red-skins af- rem. “T saw that, too; but it is hardly possible that: they could escape. Her horse was not equal to along run. Unless we can aid her, all is lost!” groaned the bereaved father. A sergeant paused at the door, saluting. **Colonel, the enemy have surrounded us.” An instant rush was made for the walls, and — the report was found to be true. <A dozen fir small, but large enough for the purpose, dott the prairie at wide intervals around the fort, and occasionally a momentary glimpse of some: phantom-like figure flitting to and fro, as though on the alert to d against any mi r for aid slipping through the cordon, could be caught. Atl was silent as death around, and it — did not appear as though the Indians meant to — do more t. make sure that no one left the. fort. “That ends my last ho groaned the commander, as the officers return- ed to the room they had so hastily left. ‘You mean there cain’t no help go out?” ask— ed Comstock, , “JT would gladly give one thousand dollars each to any who would—but it is useless—she is ; q lost— quietly said Comstock. L my line o’ life, but I’m goin’ out yender to help: my pard, ef so be he needs it, an’ an’ never faze a ha’r,”’ , then!” fairly — ef you letme to take them through. | repemuyorysecs GS f - Sn et oe -bet bee” a eat = G Ries 2 J my poor girl!” “T wouldn’t do it fer the money, colonel,” **T don’t need much in oY, ill — when — when?” ried edie gible when — when’ oagerky ered ag ‘The sooner the better, reckon. They’libe heaps to do, an’ it'll be slow work. We'll start: right off,” said Comstock. Cit 8. CHAPTER VI. THE FORLORN HOPE. €i foe 8 not order any man upon such an adventure, ”* said the colonel. PY R iad _“ Nor I wouldn’t take one as needed a order, bluntly replied Comstock. “Td ’nough ruth go ib alone," ” quietl i terposed “ You'll not do that,” « interpc tain Stone, ‘‘for I'm going with you. It did not seem t to: be ‘“You think there will be volunteers? Loong W
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or ey ry or 1 fF ev no 2 eet “Cg the officer in silence. Then he said, blunt- y: . ‘A feller might go fir an’ find many a wuss rd than you fer a tough bit o’ work, captain; ut this ’ere’s goin’ to be more’n that, I said | could take a wheen o’ men clean through them red niggers, an’ so I kin; but they’ve got to be men as are willin’ to foller the least motion o’ my han’—to do jest as I say, without stoppin’ to ax questions. ow—I don’t mean any ’fense—but you’ve had jest enough ’sperience fightin’ red- skins to think you know it all, an’ it’s big odds you'd git mad ef I didn’t stop to tetch my hat afore tellin’ vou what to do. kin’ at it from this p’int, cap’n, I reckon you’d better stay here. We'll all on us feel the easier for’t.” ““T pledge you my word of honor, as a gentle- man and a soldier, Bill, to obey you in every particular,” earnestly replied Stone. “If you still refuse, then I will make the attempt on my own hook.” P “That'll double the resk. Ef you must go, we'll stick together,” said Comstock, then leav- ing the room to complete his preparations for the perilous venture. ‘he scout had not i es without cause when he said that he could find men who would Prpmpiy volunteer for the adventure, for not one of those to whom hea »plied made the slight- est objection to joining him, though all knew that were vue discovered in the attempt to steal through the enemy’s lines little short of a miracle could preserve them from death. _ Eleven men the scout selected, the larger por- tion of them being hunters or scouts to the post, the remainder veteran soldiers whose rt Sole and intrepidity had been thoroughly tested upon a thousand occasions. The srbruchiorss he gave them were brief and to the point. Each man was to bear a rifle, two revolvers and a knife, together with a canteen of water and a small uantity of dried. meat. They were to obey his signals without a question, and trust entirely to m to carry them safely through. Just as Comstock announced all things in readiness, Colonel Markham placed a rocket in ah ae ceed in passin you suc in safely through them, send this up. There will ach be . danger, if your plan works, and it will tell me that there is still hope for ny poor child.” Comstock snapped off the long stick and thrust the shell under his belt, at his back. Then the side gate was cautiously opened wide enough to permit their passage, and a moment later the little party—thirteen in all—stood out- side the walls. Without a word Comstock un- coiled a lasso and saw that each man took hold of it; then he crouched low down and noiseless- iy headed for a point midway between the two that burned nearest the passage through the range. The night was dark, and the sky almost star- less, covered with a gray blanket of clouds as thou rain-storm was brewing. The wind was 1 g to rise, and its moanings were en ee bie wns ee by te oo as one eir cautious footfalls bein, eard by the watchful Sioux. Their progress was slow, for Bill Comstock, though, in time of need, he was recklessly bold, ‘was not one to risk defeat through want of pa- tience. A’dozen times he pau: short, penthy jerking the lasso as a si for his followers to sink flat to the ground, and as often did the alarm prove groundless, And as they drew nearer the line of the fires, the scout increased his caution, pausing to listen intently at every step, and the prudence of this was speedily eit when a low guttural voice came from he darkness directly before them. Like bodi- less phantoms of the night the adventurers sunk to the ground as Comstock "oh the signal; but the scout himself stood erect. An instinct that rarely failed him told him that the words of the Sioux were directed to him, and none other, though the savage evidently took him for one of the sentinels. And a moment later he was given still plainer proof, as the voice again de- manded who he was. Inan instant the scout’s mind was made up; there was but one way in which the savage’s curiosity could be satis- ‘* Hist!” he muttered, speaking the Sioux dia- lect like a native. ‘‘There are strange sounds in the air—the long-knives a be sending out runners for aid. Come! we will have a scalp to show our brothers—” As he spoke the scout silently dropped his hat to the ground and glided forward, hissing his words in the ear of the eager savage, who Plstaly sumpected nothing of the truth. What reply he might have made can never be known, for a sinewy hand clutched his throat and a Dees planged to the very hilt in his broad breast, The stroke was sure and deadly. There was a brief, convulsive shudder—a mo- mentary contraction of the brawny limbs, then Comstock held a corpse in his arms. A low hiss informed his comrades of his com- Bee success, as Comstock bore the body past hem and placed it some rods in their réar, to guard st its being stumbled pet by the other patrols, too soon. Pausing ly to tear vff the scalp, Comstock returned and led his fomrades su ly past the line of fires, much: a SR ESS pt ~s pausing only when they reached the mouth of the pass, Few living men knew the country surround- ing Fort Western more thoroughly than did Bill Comstock, and thus he was enabled to pro- | ceed with the work he had cut out for himself with little delay. he could name, within a few rods, the very point where the main body of the Sioux were _The Long Haired ‘Pards.’ | portion of the scout’s duty. He felt pretty confident that | then encamped, but his rule was to make sure | of one step before he attempted another. Bidding his followers lie low, he entered the defile and quickly, though thoroughly, examined | its mouth, assuring himself thatno savages were placed upon guard there—as, indeed, why | should there be such? The fort was surrounded by vigilant spies, and no one was likely to at- tempt leaving the post unless it was a scout dis- atched for aid. Nop would such a one be like- y to attempt the pass, since it led directly away from the nearest point from whence aid could be procured. And, in addition, the Sioux were encamped within the pats, a few hundred yards coe k where the defile spread owt into a pleasant, o long valley. Stationing his men under shelter of an over- hanging rock, Comstock stole silently along un- tilhe reached the little valley, and the Sioux enéampment lay beneath his eyes, There were several fires still burning, though faintly, and | the majority of the savages seemed sleeping, though several groups were to be seen, evident- ly conversing over their pipes. As he crept nearer, the scout gave a start of surprise. Before him, apparently as sound as ever, was the White Sioux whom he had s0 re- cently seen fall before his rifle! As if by in- stinct the scout leveled his weapon, and at that moment the notorious white chief of the Sioux trembled upon the threshold of death; but then the weapon was lowered, undischarged. ‘*No—it’d be sartin death to more’n him. Let him run the len’th o’ his rope. Thar’s the crit- ters! Now ef I kin only—’ west—wall of rocks, while, some yards beyond, and at the Cppeeite side, the savages had se- cured their horses, where the s afforded better picking. Toward these Comstock now crept, keeping in the deepest shadows and ad- hor sag owly so as to avoid alarming the ani- mals. is eyes glistened erly as he recog- nized among them the ungainly animal that had astonished them all that day by its wonderful speed and endurance. Though proverbially sus- picious, the a iam did not betray any alarm as the scout neared them, but lazily cropped the sweet grass, as though their appetite had already been satisfied. Comstock cautiously skirted the herd, and found, as he had felt pretty well assured, that the savages had placed no guard over the ani- mals, contenting themselves with hoppling them, satisfied that the grass would keep them from straying beyond the limits, The scout paused and seemed in doubt as he eyed the big horse belonging to»the White Sioux. Under ro other circumstances he would not have hesitated one instant, but would have sprung upon the back of the coveted ani- mal and ris' all on one bold dash, But now —to do that would be ruin to his comrades, though he himself might elude the savages. Only for the diabolical temper displayed by the creature during the prairie tournament, he would have yesh ¢p leading it softly away, but the risk was great, and resigning the half-formed resolve with a sniff of disgust, oo stole away and rejoined his com- rades. “Hist!” he muttered, warningly. ‘‘Let me do what little talkin’ thar must be did; you kin . The critters is in thar, jest as I 'spected, an’ they don’t got no idee they’s any sech fel- lers as ~we a-crawlin’ round’em. Now I'll tell ‘ou jest what we've got to do. It’s no fool of a ton, an’ one crooked step ’ll send us sky-high uicker’n a k. We cain’t do nothin’ afoot, that’s clar, e couldn’t bring hosses with us from the fort, an’ so we've got to git them here, Thar’s erplenty, an’ to “(ga ef we kin ondl manidge things jest right, kf the pesky crit- ters would cee not to git skeered an’ kick up the devil’s delight, we could crawl up an’ take our pick, fer all the look-out the reds is keepin’ ; but that’d be most too resky. “I reckon thar’s only one way to work it. You fellers ‘ll foller me up as nigh as is safe, then lay low while I try to steal off the critters, one by one. It'll take time, but we'll hev plenty o' that afore day, Ef thar’s a row kicked up afore I git enough, Vl try to stampede the crit- ters, an’ the rest o’ you must try to ketch a mount as they pass by; thoso that do must light out, hot-foot, reaped cluss along the fut o’ the range ontel we all git together ag’in. Them as don’t—waal, Ireckon they’d better salivate as many o’ the pizin imps as they kin, fur ’tain’t nowise likely thar’ll ever be another chaince fer ’em to do it.” ° While Comstock was talking, he cut his lasso into short lengths, to serve as rude halters for the present until they could provide better. Then, at a word from him, the men slowly, cau- tiously crept along the base of the rocky wall, and drew near tothe grazing drove. The au pew were built against the left—or | Now began the most difficult and dangerous Silently as a sha- dow he stole among the animals and selecting one of the best-looking, succeeded in passing the rope around its neck. Then, cutting its ho »ples, he slowly led it along through the darkness, assing it over to one of the men, directing him (0 steal cautiously out of the defile, but to await the coming of the others before attempting to mount, eturning, Comstock repeated this perenne only once encountering any serious obstacle. That time, a. mustang. broke trom him, with a loud snort ot. terror that caused the scout’s heart to leap into his mouth. But for- tune still befriended him. The mustang backe against the big horse of the White Sioux, and was greeted with an angry squeal and a heavy kick, an alarm so natural that not one of the savages gave it any attention. At length Comstock led away his twelfth horse, and sent the last man down the a to join his friends, then returned to complete his work. This was not only to secure a mount for himself, but to arrange for a general stampede that should leave the savages without any means of pursuit until the light of day should enable them to collect the scattered animals. In order to effect this, Comstock had to pay each animal a visit, to cut its hopples, and at the same time soothe its alarm so that none would start away until he was ready. Thts was delicate work, but he proved himself equa] to the task, and an hour later he severed the ‘hopples of the big horse and leaped upon its back with a wild yell, emptying one revolver at the astounded red- skins, then thundering down the pass, driving the herd before him. CHAPTER VII. A DUEL TO THE DEATH, Every trace of lameness vanishing as though by magic, Simoom thundered down upon the astounded savages with a burst of speed that betrayed not the i symptom of fatigue, Never were mortal beings more thoroughly duped. Until this moment. they had regarded their game as good as bagged—and now they were charged by the victim whose scalp they had already fingered in imagination, Their rifles were discharged, but the sudden change of affairs seemed to unnerve them, and the bullets whistled wide of the mark. A shrill taunting laugh rung in their ears—then the bold rider was upon them, his good revolver § - ing venomously. Tnere was a brief, confused trampling to and fro—a cloud of dust through which man and rider showed spectral-like; then asingle horsernan darted forth and dashed away toward the ayaa sun. Until now the four other Sioux had been too deeply rised to do much else than stare in open-mouthed astonishment, but now, as they saw that two men had fallen, that one alone had survived that brief conflict, their choking rage found vent in wild yells of deadly ce as they urged their jaded ponies on in pursuit of the laughing, reckless scout, who was now dextrously reloading the rifle he had snatched from the hands of one of the dead savages. “The blind fools!” muttered Happy Jack, as he glanced over his shoulder and saw the Sioux &, fiercely lashing their ponies. ‘‘ Will nothin ey but death teach them? Good enough! they ask ‘ for a lesson, and a lesson they shall have.” The blood-bay was covering the-ground at long, steady lope, ane fast; enough to hold distance with the Sioux, but little, if any, Bey Moo than two hundred yards, Kate Markham 5% steadily on, nearly half a mile ahead ©. aS scout, and keeping close along the foot of thes, % ‘ay, bluffs, Happy Jack could see that her’. oad, “4, > could not hold out much longer, and eg’ wo to end the chase as soon as possible, _,2 CSR Ata touch of the rein, Simoom whgel ae ity” »,' Sn upon a pivot, facing the oncoming Sio pin, ” Os Jack leveled his captured rifle, but_# DG Ca the savages sunk behind their aninials A grim smile lighted up the he heard the poorly-aimed bulletg,. but then a stern fire filled his ey 6g. a the foremost mustang and p' UE Op 0 At the report, the animal p Re, % ‘ bullet in its brain, hurling its ay” ott Sg with crushing violence far ov ribs hy. on shifting the empty rifle to his % py’, % Jack touched Simoom with thés red SS down upon the red-skins yeitk 6. Cxes, © The wonderful spead of his horse once mor¢ stood him in good stead. During the brief in terval between his wheeling and the dischargy of ».8 rifle, the distance between had been les- ssened nearly one-half, and the other hundred berds were almost covered by Simoom before he three red-skins divined the scout’s purpose. Their rifles were empty, but they each were armed with serviceable revolvers, and, with a courage that deserved better things, arose to ; meet the desperate attack. But, confident in ; the prowess of Simoom, Happy Jack felt that he had far too much at stake to risk all on one cast—in a hand-to-hand streale with at least three stout warriors, and as the first tae was Sine tage Be sunk behind the blood-bay’s body, g sharply to the right and sweep-
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= with the spur and t the enemy. t scout felt a sudden, sharp twinge in his shoulder, ‘had no time even to surmise. ing off a cpoaneaee ing swiftly around the enemy, gaining their rear dition’ a check, nor drawing rein until he was several hundred yards in their rear. Happy Jack quickly reloaded his rifle. He knew that, barring accidents, he held the key to the situation in his own hands. If the Sioux should decide to pursue him, he knew that he eould choose his own egourse and distance, and thus insure Kate Markham’s gaining a sufficient start to rend_r ber comparatively safe. On the other hand, i? they were to chase her, he could follow, and, with the rifle he had captured, pick off the pursuers one by one as opportunity of- fered. The Sioux seemed to be weighing the situation as well, “or they drew together as if for consul- tation. After a few moments, dying which much gesticulation was indulged in, one of them dismounted and stooped over the fallen brave. His inspection was brief. Then he remounted, and the trio urged their ponies on in the wake of the fair fugitive, now far ahead. * All right!” muttered the scout, as he follow- ed upon their track, “TI hoped they would fol- low me, but as they wouldn’t bite, Pl show ’em my teeth!” f fany a quick and far from easy glance did the three Sioux cast over their shoulders as they urged their tired but plucky mustangs on, spreading apart as Simoom crept closer and eloser. Happy Jack smiled mockingly. He did not intend to run into the trap he had so recent- ly showed them how to set. : ‘*One more spurt, old boy—so: steady, now— steady!” As the rifle rose to his cheek a yell of warning broke from the red-skins, and they as quickly sunk low along their ponies’ sides; but the pre- caution was in vain. The rifle cracked and was blended with a wailing death-shriek as one of the Indians pitched headlong to the ground, shot through the back. . This was the last feather. Desperately the two surviving Sioux braves wheeled their ponies and charged upon the scout as their only hope of life. Mounted as he was, continued flight could only end in their death, one after the other. : : Nothing loth, Happy Jack touched Simoom undered forward to meet They, emptied their rifles, and the and knew that he was wounded, how badly, he Like a living thunderbolt he dashed between the two savages, emptying one barrel at little more than arm’s- length into the Sioux upon his right, and ward- with his left arm, un- wounded, though the steel head ripped his -sleeye from wrist to shoulder. ithin double his own length, Simoom wheeled around and the scout’s revolver rung out the death-knell of the last surviving Sioux before he could make a move at self-defense, Imost ere he realized that his vicious spear- vist had failed him. ree pausing for a moment’s breath after vid worm. Happy’ Jack sprung to the Se eras inspected the fallen braves, * j hat his work was thoroughly t none of their number lived to «ale to their fellows, nies 4, like murder,” he muttered, ing the blood-bay free rein eo trailof Kate Markham. * * “my side—it was like ’ en! a ate ty ; Nave murdered her 4 S) 1 her fate had ore caught “ast-deep- ! : _ e soon Jy” he ? .so far soubling bi 38 . red Kate, , uly skin deep, .—you must be ride?” / ‘soft fingers were pouring into the And yet—it was, -y for it when I} as another. There is a good spring not far away, and plenty of grass for our horses; though I fear they will fare better than we in that re- spect.” : ““T do not feel as though I ever cared for an- other mouthful of food,” wearily said Kate, her head drooping. “You will fee] better after a good night’s rest” ‘*T can only think of poor father—those dread- ful Indians! If he is only alive—” “He is—I feel sure of that,” replied the scout, with a confidence he was far from feeling. ** You know we heard the cannon—that shows that our friends succeeded in getting back to the fort; and once in there, the whole Sioux tribe couldn’t harm them.” “God grant that you may be right! Only I fear the worst,” brokenly murmured Kate. Happy Jack did not reply, knowing of how little avail were empty assurances under the circumstances, but he was glad indeed when they reached the little valley he had been head- ing for. He knew that rest and slumber were what the maiden needed most. Kate sunk down upon the soft grass beside the spring, with a weary sigh. Happy Jack re- moved the trappings from, the two nea and carefully rubbed them d6wn before allowing them to drink their fill. After this he hoppled the chestnut and aJlowed them to graze at will, confident that Simoom would never desert him. As he returned to the spring, Kate roused her- self, with a visible effort. ‘ ““You said you were wounded, Mr.—” “Tt is only a seratch,” hastily replied the scout, touching his shoulder. ‘‘I will bind it up after a while.” ‘*No; it was received in my service, I am glad that I can do this much to repay”you, Come—remember that you still wear my co- lors,” she added, with a wan smile, as Happy Jack hesitated. Without a word he turned back the sleeve which had been slit by the Indian’s lance, and laid bare the wound, showing red and ugly in the hard, fair shoulder. Kate gently washed the wound, then bownd it up with her handker- chief, little dreaming what a subtle poison her scout’s veins. “ And now,” she said, checking his muttered thanks, *‘may I go to sleep? I do not think I can keep my eyes open much longer,” Happy Jack hastily collected an armful of dried grass and leaves, and placed them be- neath an overhanging rock that promised some shelter from the threatening storm, and, rude as the couch was, and despite her troubles, Kate had scarcely lain down Maren her eyes were sealed in slumber. Not so with the scout. Though this was the third night since he Rad closed his eyes in slum- ber, he had too much to think of for repose. Of his recent perils, he gsearee gave a thought—his mind was filled with one bright vision; he could only think of the fair, young woman whose life he had that day preserved, over whose slumbers he was then watching. f he hours rolled by, and still he crouched thére motionless as one dead. But then came a startling interruption, ' Simoom raised his head and looked up the valley, sniffing the air iciously, and pawing the ground nervously. Then, as though his sus- picions were confirmed, he bounded to the side of his master, thrusting his velvet muzzle against the scout’s cheek. In an insiant Happy Jack was on the alert, and knew that danger threat- ened. Cautiously cocking his revolver, he drew back into the deeper shade, peering keenly around, His lips compressed as he caught a limpse of several dusky figures crawling down ‘the valley, ‘ : cad YR CHAPTER VII. © 4, ON THE TRAIL. ' verely; still Tcan | tle mniden | hee en. | inuteslonger. There ide any further in this ake to the hills. There i a % jpere it will be compara- | tie night-is there no house far adel re = White Sioux could again mount his braves take the war-path. And dyring those ho’ stoch vantage, he hoped to find ‘his partner, Hap men Jack and Miss Markham, and with them real a point of safety, even if they could not re hanc to the fort. Blid While thus thinking, the big horse carried ers k through the night, over the rattling shingle: Tn the base of the range, with the long, swingi the | stride of a moose at speed, and in a few ly d ments more Comstock overtook his comrades. Ps ** All here, I reckon?” he called aloud. ‘‘G erie erough! Things couldn’t ’a’ worked bette) mar Yar we be, good-mounted, ready fer busin shor chuck up, feeling a heap sight more com : pee then that big Injun boss back y ther der—’ ‘* What’s the next move, Comstock?’ im this tiently interrupted Captain Stone, G ‘ ‘*'To give the old man notice we've played fi afte reds, sofur. It'll let the Injuns know whar ’ that look fer our trail, but they know that a’reac Jac Ireckon. You fellers ride right ahead, an’ cide tetch the durned thing off. Keep the bluff clo} 10 to your right han’.” ~ the, Thrusting the end of the broken rocket sti clos into the muzzle of his rifle, Comstock struck Lia match and succeeded in igniting the fuse. B oll as the fiery sparks sputtered back through th Sve darkness, the confiscated horse took alarm Bio went through a performance that severely tes c ed the scout’s skillto avoid being cast to th out earth. s ts Asa result the rocket dropped from the gu : and, like a wonderfully eccentric fiery serpel bri darted swiftly over the plain until, strikiy this some obstacle, it rose a few yards in the air one fore exploding. However, its object was < dex complished for keen eyes were upon the lo be, ‘out at Fort Western, and a moment later @ &8F° answering rocket, was sent high up in t thr sky.» ; — Comstock finally sueceeded in subjecting tli 7% ungainly brute which he bestrode, ‘but the stru, the gle was so severe and prolonged that he knew ™& must either abandon the brute or-else contri’ oh a more efficient bridle. “Youd make a sweet lookin’ duck o? a s’posin’ you tuck a notion to play circus wh the reds was to the fore!” he muttered as, fin: pea ly, the big brute condescended to follow the tr: eal left by the rest of the party. hit After overtaking his comrades, Comstock | de the way at a steady lope through the wight, n checked his horse until full a dozentmiles hs been covered. Then, riding close up'under thé ™ rock ‘wall that here rose almost perpendicularly *h from the plain for two-score yards, he dismount / of ed and left his horse in charge otf one of t fa men. He was busied with some preparation the dark for several minutes, then struck @ match and kindled a ‘‘fire-ball,” composed 9 rag, gunpowder and spittle, bound to the end ashort stick. With this in’ his hand, and car fully shielded from casting its glow far abro by his hunting-shirt, doffed for the purpose, ti scout glided out upon the plain ata right ang" with the cliff. ; His purpose was plain now. He was makin sure that the two fugitives had ed this poin before taking to the hills, as he felt assured the, would do, sooner or later. He paused, when some two hundred yards out up6n the plain, and moved slowly baek and forth for a few minutes, then shaped out the fire-ball and re turned to his friends. Me “What word—good or bad?” eagerly crie Stone. ‘ They passed by here, but they was six pizen critters cluss a’ter’em. I reckon we'd best light out a piece furder.” q 2¢¢6@ Bb Sees ES cas Twice was this moye repeated, and at the J last Bill Comstock could not suppress a little 4; yell of delight at the result of his search. He ii saw that there were only jive sets of hoof-marks, — ti three of them unshod mustangs. Pens h “ An’ jist look!” he added, in high glee, as the - d rest of the company hastened to join him at. ms ery. ‘You see that ’ar track? That’s old Si-- ° moom’s handwrite—an’ its kiverin’ them made | by t’others—the boy is a chasin’ the Injuns’stead : o’ them chasin’ him—” . ef : oe And i ? \ ter? hk save evel nks | | afore he le ¥ to save b g angry J wr hand, hen ns c ping the long mane, he flung his ; to the right side, thus forcing the rting brute to describe a wide are, of which bluff forme@ the connecting chord, only ‘an wu uered animal yielded uit of his comrades, _ mfused trampling e scout chuc would be 1 @ co’ right position when the con- ded to his will and galloped dog:
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eek bearing wis Geen siecaentt ae: ‘ort, wil the limp and. ’ Racin ten of taste While he led thane, 1 wu 4 Sndians foug! i pass, came riding swiftly ———— stock. I promise to no more until I can ‘peak to the gentleman himself.” ** You'd better order a wooden overcoat afore- hand, then,” was the scout’s blunt reply, as he glided rapidly aiong the trail, bidding the oth- ers keep close in his rear, In a few minutes he came upon the body of the last Indian shot by Happy Jack, and quick- ly discovered the other two. “That's the way your runaway feller does!” tried Bill, in high glee. ‘Ef you know ary man as kin do it up cleaner, then I’d like ye to show him to me oncet!” Captain Stone made no reply, but more than one present felt that the. officer would far ra- ther the scout had failed, though he said no- @ired and jaded by their long and hard ride after the day’s excitements, and feeling assured that, once freed from his immediate foes, Happy Jack would take to the hills, the little party de- cided to await the coming of daylight, now close at hand, Riding in close to the rocks, they dismounted, tying their animals’ heads close together in order to guard against a stam- de, the men lay down and almost immediate- ‘ell saleee There was no guard set, because, even if they had started in pursuit at all, the Sioux must be far in the rear. Comstock was the first to awaken, and with- out disturbing the others, he strode out to where - red-skins lay, hoping to find something out which he could manufacture a more effective bridle for his unruly horse. In default of any- thing better, he stripped a buck-skin shirt from one of the savages, and cutting it into strips, dextrously pe ted them into a stout rope, then” made a rude headstall, a stout loop to pass around the animal’s nose, with lines passing through the throat-latch. Tn case of a struggle, a stout pull upon the reins would draw the noose tight, aa by rena 3 its breath, choke the brute into subjection, The fierce resistance made by the horse as Comstock endeavored to apply this, aroused the sleepers, and it was only after several of the stoutest men. came to his assistance that the bridle was secured. Without waiting to make a regular meal, the party mounted and struck out along the trail, eating as they rode along. Comstock was in high glee over his stolen horse, which, after one determined struggle against the new power, “not poe] and thereafter acted more like a civil- animal, He felt, too, that they would soon meet with his friend, and though he knew that the chances were heavy against the safe arrival of the entire party at the fort, his success thus far had given even more than usual confidence, At length the trail turned toward an opening ao wp range, and Bill gave a little yell of de- t. “IT knowed it!” he chuckled, ‘Good kiver, fust chop water an’ plenty o’ grass! I reckon they’re in thar, now, a-waitin’ fer us. Jes’ lis’en!” and he uttered a shrill, quavering cry that came back in weird echoes from the beetling r ‘ocks, But the expected answer to the signal came 1 was silent as the echoes died away. ‘“Mebbe they’ve pulled out while we was sleepin’ back yender—or else they’re so busy talkin’ they didn’t hear my call,” said Bill, but. it was a sickly smile that accompanied the words. With a dark scowl, Captain Stone wu his horse into the defile. The last words of Com- stock had raised an angry devil in his heart, a blood-light before his eyes. But Comstock thundered past him, ing: ‘*A’ter me is manners, cap’n! I'll Happy Jack you’re comin’!” z . His precaution was useless, He reached the little valley first, but it was ety of human life. He saw the footsteps beside the spring— the bed of leaves upon which Kate Markham had lain down to sleep—the hoofmarks and droppings of the oe horses—but they and their owners were gone “They must have ridden on,” said Stone, once more «old and collected, his usual self. “ Hold my hoss,” muttered Bill, springing to the ground wnd crouching low. “I knowed it! look at them tracks! Thar’s bin somebody here—” _ At this moment Sergeant Bowen,who, with a Negeaiee learned during a dozen years of In- n wart: turned to the mouth of the eine ding witty. beck, his face pale and stern set. Through force of habit he saluted the officer, though eddressing Comstock, “The Indians are in sight, following our * How mon: ” demanded the scout, springing rie i ak 1} 4 t jarge force—fifiy, at least; they are no’ x Re the tral nore than two miles away,” came y dartling answer. ty CHAPTER IX. HIEF, , ” THE WHITE but not de flame- of the vhile his powerful voice rung in their ears, the ‘ht with a stubborn valor more like _| to the” valley. CHIEF, feated, the Sioux war- | guard re lined walls that of white men than their own race, among whom sharp dashes is the ryle rather than a prolonged assault upon fortified walls. But when the bullet of the keen-eyed scout laid him low, the only thought of one and all seemed for him alone. Forming a living shield with their own bodies between the fort and the bear- ers, the Sioux followed their fallen leader from the field where so many of their stoutest braves | lay dead or dying. t was not until the little oval valley was re- gained that the White Sioux gave signs of re- turning consciousness. For a few moments he stared around him like ene dazed, but then a dull, throbbing pain over his heart gave him the clew, and tearing open his fawn-skin shirt, he realized how nearly he had escaped death. What had once been a heavy medallion locket had received the scout’s bullet, that, otherwise, would have pierced the heart of the white chief. The crushed and disfigured lump of gold, with the leaden ball still in its center, had been driven through the skin, and now clung to the bruised flesh. A low, almost reverent murmur passed through the savage group, as all eyes saw how the life of their beloved chief had been saved by his *‘ medicine,” but the White Sioux did not notice them. With a hand that trembled like a leaf in the storm, he raised the shattered locket and pressed, the broken spring. A few bits of ivory fell upon his lap, They still bore traces of having been painted—but no more. The warriors silently withdrew as the head of the renegade white man drooped. Yet more than one eye caught the glitter of a hot tear— more than one ear the choking, half-stifled n of intense bitterness as the White Sioux wed his head over the last link that bound him to the short-lived past that had been so full of«joy, so bright and happy—until he came to mar all— The proud head rose quickly, a hot glow in his eyes that dried all moisture as by magic, and the White Sioux was once more himself. His face and frame were those of a man just in the prime of life. The first, no longer dis- figured by the mass of false hi air, was clean shaven, with clear-cut, regular features, that, with a less stern and cold expression, would have been justly pronounced handsome. His frame was tall, rather active and sinewy than massive, with not a pound of superfluous flesh. A professional trainer of athletes could not have picked out one flaw in his bodily cundi- tion. The chief arose and strode along the pass, pausing atits mouth. He cast one glance to- ward the fort, then turned his gaze westward, looking long and steadily. But he looked in vain. There was no living being in sight. ‘*Red Leaf will follow the trail to the home of the setting sun but what he will obey the words of my father,” uttered a Jow, musical voice from close behind the White Sioux, ‘“ He will return with the fair young squaw, and the scalp of the yellow-haired hunter will drag at the heel of the Sioux brave.” ‘‘May you prove a true prophet, Kenekuk,” replied the White Sioux, turning, his face te) rat in its hard lines, ‘Next to having captu yonder fort, nothing would more noeey. satisfy me than the possession of that r ‘She has a very fair face,” was the slow, sta foe reply. ‘‘She need not blush to stand beside Eunora, the star of the Sioux, na- tion, And yet—” “You have earned the right to s Kene- kuk—my eye was upon you, and it made my heart glad to see the white-faces fall before the arm of my son.” | Tall and slender, yet lithe and powerful as the panther was Kenekuk, son of the White Sioux. His garb was that of an Indian brave, severely plain and unadorned, his face guiltless of it, for this was his first war-path. In features he strongly resembled his father, with the higher cheekbones of his Indian ther. His bronzed cheeks flushed a tawny red, his large black eyes kindled vividly at the ap- proving words, __ “When the White Sioux leads, a coward would seem a brave,” he replied, softly. “Tf I thought there was one dropof cowardly blood your veins, dear as you are to my heart, I would strike you Rowse with my own hand. For this reason I watched you close this day, and I am satisfied. Now finish what you began merits. fr I said that the white squaw was very fair— but fair as she is, the lodge that holds her is not large be for Eunora and Kenekuk,” came ede atnten t their fully; the or a moment their eyes met fully; then, with a short laugh, the White Sioux pu cd bray: id him, phy sph AS: Seaton es aroun: and an on followed. It was finally decided that th should be surrounded and close watch to ‘ainst the passa, any courier that might “bo dispatched with "tidings of the at- This was the cool cunning of Bill Comstock proved equal | stricken scout lay quiv. to the emergency, and when he stampeded The Long Haired ‘ Pards.’ only mo- — —- = — eA cavallada, it came upon the White Sionx and his braves like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. For a time all was utter confusion, but then the stern voice of the chief was heard and obeyed. He had been the first to reach the month of the pass, and with ear closely pressed to the ground, he heard the steady gallop of the party of adventurers as they sped along the base of the range of hills. Experience told him that those animals were ridden: their progress was too steady and uniform for the flight’ af rider- less horses on a stampede. Springing erect he called by name half a dozen of his swiftest braves—among tham Kene- kuk—and bade them follow the riders, leaving as broad a trail as they could. In silence the savages darted away through the gloom, while the remainder, under the White Sioux, soatter- ed over the plain in pursuit of the stampeded animals, Not until the rocket discharged by Comstock was answered by another from the fort did the White Sioux suspect that white men had stam- veded his animals, rather than, as he had be- ieved, a strolling band of Cheyennes or Crows. A few minutes later this was confirmed by the discovery of the sentinel slain by the scout in passing through the line drawn around the fort. Unfortunately for the hopes of the bold scout, a few of the stampeded animals were so thor- oughly broken that they speedily answered the calls of their respective masters, and by their aid others were secured. In Jess than two hours from the alarm, the White Sioux and forty of his braves were in the saddle, The chief paused only to give the remaining Indians their instructions. They were’to keep a close watch over the fort, having their men 60 sta- tioned as to cut off whoever attempted to leave the walls, unless in too great force for them to attack, Riding hard, the Sioux pressed ahead, nor drew rein until they were hailed by one of their runners, who stood beside the bodies of the two Indians first shot by Happy Jack. The rest, under Kenekuk, had pressed on, though the hoof-strokes could no longer be heard, keeping the trail by the deeply-imprinted hoof-marks, aided by the sense of touch, Day soon dawned, and then the Sioux pressed on more rapidly. The brow of the chief grew black when he came upon the last of the six braves whom he had sent in pursuit of Kate Markham and Happy Jack, and with a stern vow to avenge their deaths, he rode on once more. The double trail was followed into the pass, Kenekuk going ahead on foot as scout. He was overtaken beside the little spring, and si- lently pointed out the different sign that had so disturbed Bill Comstock such a short time be- fore. The White Sioux dismounted and ex- amined the ground closely, while Kenekuk and cw other braves followed the broad trail up the valley. The: chief’s reflections were far from agreeable. Knowing less than the reader does of what had actually transpired there, he believed that the “two fugitives had been overtaken by the party he had trailed so far, and that the girl on whose capture he was bent was now under the protec- tion of over a dozen armed men, Meanwhile Kenekux and his comrades press- ed along the trail, keeping a wary look-out ahead, for the trail was very fresh, And be- fore they had followed the winding valley one mile, the wisdom of this prudence was made The son of the chief, who was in advance, abruptly paused, then sunk down behind a con- venient bowlder, in which action he was closely imitated by his comrades. There was no neec for words, as the eyes of all three were fixec upon the same point of suspicion. Just ahead of them the narrow valley made an abrupt bend toward the west, the outer curve formed by a mass of broken rocks, rising hun- dreds of feet in the air. At one point alone could these rocks be scaled with any degree of ease. There the rock wall sloped back in a series of rough steps, finally ending in a ledge of rock some fifty feet in length by half that in width, raised a score yards above the level of the valley. Aiong the edge of this platforia was a line of heavy bowlders, capped ie smal!- * er stones, resembling a rude stone wall, or fence. Above the towered high, for a few ares Aine fy the platform, his sloping k, full of rifts and crevices. At the base of the rocky pile grew bushes and small trees, and it was a movement behind these that first aroused the x ePanpn of the youn, half-breed. Now, from his covert, he Aout catch a glimpse of a number of horses tethered there, and this convinced him that the wall above had been built by the hand of man. . Ata word from him one of the braves left the bowlder and began stealing away to warn the Sioux that their gnetlNhe to was spread the tidin ie alone could carry it. pread far f A puff of blue smoke shot e recky breast- ibe) the death- of Heemolmak echo- let e tak Sa — nu
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= 10 Dime Library. ed back the defiance, and then his war-whoop rung out loud and thrilling. In answer came the wild yell of the Sioux, as, following the sh abeg chief, they galloped swiftly up the val- ey. Asingle glance showed the chief the facts of the situation. He saw the strength of the posi- tion oceupied by the whites and knew that it could only be carried at a heavy loss. But, too, he believed that the daughter of Colonel Mark- ham was before him, and that thought banished all others. Again sounding his war-cry, he dashed straight at the hill, followed by his braves, who flinched not, though the rifles of the white men were already playing with deadly effect upon their ranks, and more than one horse galloped away, Seca before the line of bushes was reached, CHAPTER X. BEN WATSON. SILENT and motionless as death Happy Jack crouched at the feet of the sleeping maiden, his ainfully intense gaze fixed upon the dimly-out- ined, phantom-like figures, as they crept cau- tiously, noiselessly over the short sward. They were three in number, as he could now distin- guish, but whether white men or red, he could Only conjecture. Hoe drew a breath of relief as he bokedin vain for others. In her defenss he felt he could hold his own against those three, if worst came to worst. The crawling figures paused, then drew close together, as though for the purpose of consulfa- tion. The scout leveled his pistol and covered the party. ‘The temptation was strong to fire, but—might these men be friends, after all/ For her sake, he must act with all prudence. At this instant the chestnut mare, which had been lying down, resting after its hard race, scrambled to its feet and ran to the side of Si- moom with a whimper of alarm. Happy Jack heard a sharp exclamation, and then, like magic, the three figures vanished amid the gloom, ‘That's white, all over,” muttered the scout, with a little laugh beneath his breath. ‘An Indian can curse, but he couldn’t spit out a mouthful like thaé!” Then, raising his voice, he called aloud: Red or white—speak up, or I'll senda chunk of lead through one of you!” “White, clean through, stranger reply, frou out the gloom beyond. somewhar nigh tohan’, but couldn’t tell ezactly whar; nur we didn’b think it ’d be healthy to ax foo loud, sence more ears mought hear it than yourn.” “What is it?? tremblingly whispered Kate, whom the sternly-uttered challonge had roused from hershumbers, : ” came the “Rrionds, [ hope,” replied Happy Jack, in the Same, guarded tones: “‘ but Lrieudsor foe, you aro safe while I live,” 1 ‘You ain't-gone to gleep, I reckon,” added ica, impatiently. .‘‘I tell you, stranger, | furs healthy diggin’s fer men o’ our eolor, sTeady aw willin’ to help youan’ the lady, f t you wish; but we’ve only got one skulp apiece, an’ ’d. be, fools to lose them when a. little dodgin’ ‘d save ’em. How is it,)) stare re ; ‘Come’ forward, one. of you. When TI see what you are like, then I’ e@nswer, you plainer.” * Good enough!” and the speaker boldly ad- vanced, guided by the sound of the scout’s voice. Yar L be, Ben Watson, as mebbe you've hearn om aren’ so purty to look at, but folks gen’ally ‘low I’m hafe white and free born.” ““You'say you've bean looking for us. what reason? How did you lmow we-were here?” ! ~ “Saw you come in. I kin tell you the hull thing in jest two twos, Me an’ my pards—thar’s a dozen o’ us, all told—was on our way to the post, lottin’ on takin’ a han in the big doin’s we'd hearn was to come off thar, but fust we knowed we run chuck up into a pizen nest reds—’Rapahoes, they was. We beat ’em off in the eend, but two o’ the boys went under, an’ the oll man—our boss—got more lead in’ him than he could carry comf’tably, an’ we wouldn’t leave him ahind.” A. little afore sundown we saw some reids actin’ mighty funny over yender on the high rocks like they was watchiw’ some- thin’ heap good; so me’nda couple more boys sneaks: out to see what was in the wind. We . was jest in time tosee youknock over them red- ing one wan” skins out thar, an’ watched you come in here. We ‘lowed to meet an’ give you.word they was snakes around, when the pesky reds ketched sight o’ us an’ wehad to putt hot foot fer the other boys. We got thar ahead, an’ talked the thing over. We knowed it’d be no easy job, but all agreed it’d be low down ef we didn’t try to putt you on guard, an’ that’s why we're here, an’ why we kem up so quiet like.” “Then on think there are Indians nits waited so late? ff chase three stout so slow about attack- near? But why have the they were strong enough men, why should they t promptly enough and heartily spoken | “We knowed you | mre | For SS eae — = - ———_—__—— —— = ae A ee’ ts > De | “T reckon they thought a feller that wiped | us mountain men fer niggers that had hogs f ch out three red-skins as quick as you did out in | masters? Ef we cain’t he p a@woman eut of ’ the open, would be easier handled asleep then | scrape without countin’ on bein’ paid in mca 3 awake, They ain’t fur away, you kin bet high, | ey—” } an’ every minnit we stop palaverin’ ll be jest | — ‘Task your pardon, friend,” warmly utter so much the harder fer us to sneak out 0’ this. | the scout, grasping Watson’s hand, } Ef you say so, me ’n’ my pards ’ll help ee * That's enough an’ to spar’, stranger. I kne bs through, or try our best; but ef you don’t like | you didn’t mean it, but no white man likes 6 that, why we'll jest wish you well through the | be mistook fer a two-legged hog. The miss 2 scrape an’ look a’ter our own ha’r while they’s a | more’n welcome to anythin’ me an’my pard chaince left. Which is it}—an’ talk almighty | kin do fer her. Thar—that’s enough. IJ reck fi short too!” now I'll best crawl on ahead. You kin foller. 0 ‘‘ Youhave heard his words, Miss Markham,” | not too fast. The boys kin show you the way, said Happy Jack, turning toward the maiden. | an’’ll stop by the big rock, onless I meet ’e “If the Indians are indeed skulking near, we | afore. You onderstiand, boys?” are in danger here. It is for you to choose. An inarticulate grunt was the only repl . Shall we go or stay?’ Evidently Watson possessed the most nim! ; ‘Surely he would not seek to deceive us—his | tongue of the trio. s voice is that of an honest man. But you There was no further conversation until s should decide; you must know so much better | an hour later, when they met Watson at d than I—” ; base of a huge butte-like rock. He seemed “Yousay you were making for Fort Western; | high glee, and assured them that there w. D where from?” nothing further to fear, that no Indians w 0 “From Fort Union last—afore that the trap-| near enough to trouble them, and the pa: pin’ grounds. Stranger, ni ask too durned | passed around the rock, going a few hund : many questions! One ’d think we was axin’ a | yards up the valley, pausing at the foot of @ +t thunderin’ favor 0’ ye, ’stead o’ reskin’ our | rocky incline, from the top of which came t r skulps to help you out of a scrape. I\ain’t | subdued glow of a camp-fire. Watson ascen agwine to wait no longer. Ef you're comin’, | ed first, while Happy Jack assisted Kate % say so,” sapallaney, added the trapper. élimh the steep. rs “We willgo. But the lady is too fatigued for The scout cast a keen glance around him r walking. We must take the horses,” he stepped upon the little plateau, A num c “Then they’ve got to be soft shod,” said Wat- | of rough-clad men were gathered around son, ina tone of disgust. ‘‘ Ef I'd dreamed of | smoldering camp-fire. Just in the edge of t b o’so much bother, durned ef I'd took @ step, | shadow lay two still forms, their faces cover woman or no woman. Bet a bale o’ ppiihine with ablanket. Tothe right lay a giantin si fi every pesky one o’ us I'll get sent to glory | his head bound up, one arm in a rude sling. afore we git a hundred yards from here!” latter arose and limped:forward, one hand e ‘*Lend a hand, and we'll be all the quicker. | tended, as he uttered some words of weleomd Cut up thesesaddle-blankets. Call your friends | Happy Jack accepted the hand—and then, with and. tell them what to do,” tersely uttered Happy | qut a moment’s warning, he felt himself jerk Jack. , forcibly forward—a, terrible ‘blow fell upon J The two men came forward, and in a few | head, and he lay like one dead! YP moments more both horses had their hoofs care- | — fully mufiled in the pecs of saddle-blankets. CHAPTER XI. I The side-saddle was placed upon Simoom, and “BABY TOM.’ e then Ree Jack lifted Kate into the saddle, AS she witnessed the treacherous treatme p with a whispered word of courage, of the unsuspecting scout, Kate Markham uff + When all was in readiness, Ben Watson led | fered a sharp cry of indignation, for the mi 0 the way withvone of his friends, the third lead- | ment forgetting that she, too, must bein peril 4 ing the chestnut mare by the bridle, just behind | and as she saw the heayy pistol-butt that Hed n Simoom. Happy Jack walked beside Kate, a | stricken Happy Jack senseless, raised as though a revolver in ono hand, his every sense upon the | to repeat the blow, she sprung forward t alert, ready for the worst if come it must.,) though to protect him with her own persom- { Their. progress was slow, and the pauges fre- | But a strong hand settled upon her should@l — y quent. Ben Watson seemed the personification | and she heard Watson’s voice bidding her také 4, of caution and prudence, and the little party | care. J vs passed along the winding valley as silently as “You eain’h help him, an’ you'll only mak@ 2 though composed of veritable phantoms of the | trouble fer yourself a-tryin’, The boys ain’t b nicht, goin’ to hurt him much, I don’t reckon.” Vy For those who had marked down their prey, | ‘* And you, whom he trusted—a traitor! God %, the outlying savages seemed strangely lacking ) help us both!” and Kate, fearing she scara@ ‘¢ in vigilance, a) tance traversed with- | knew wh j v t any serior A nereased, Happy Jack | her lap, sob itterly, © w puzzled, All this was so. foreign tosuv-| Truly, she batl good cause for desponden li ynature.. It seemed impossible that braves |. In one brief mint the entire aspect of thing upon the war-path could be so lacking in vigt- | had changed At first glance, the scene hal lance, Yet—that must be the solution. The | heen t of a night encampment of friene I story that Watson told did not sound like‘a lie,” whose wakefulness solong past midnight was ag |i and was boryns out by his actions, It, he hal) counted for by the story of the recent ambus heen plotting @yil; there would have been bome | and fig ith the redsskins, proof of the gent - x incoherence, he would, have urge their depar- | ineness of which might be seen in the two m tare instead of threatening to leave them tionless bodies covered with the blanket, an “T reekon we've give’em the g *chuckled | the bandages of the gigantic man who hadiad y Watson, fallthe back to thesconus’ je’re.| vanced to greet the new-comers. But then, re good two miles from the spring, an’ I don’t | his hand grasped that of the unsuspicious scow reckon they’d bekeepim’ & look-out so far away. | the giant pulled him almost off his feet, and 1 And yet—dog my cuts ef I kin meke it out to | fore he conld recover, one of thetwomen wht & suit my own mind! I counted swe on havin’ | bad actompanied Watson, knocked him sens@ 5 to burn powder afore we got.el’ar; itlookspow- |} less from behind with a revolver-butt. Atth} C erful like them critters must ’a’? had some a same moment the two dead men flung’ asi ¥ ‘ong with them, or they'd’ kep’ a\ better look- | their blanket, arose and came forward to alk y out.” Ff | their fellowsif necessary. Their further assist 5 “Twas thiniring much the same,” said Happy j‘ance was not paduived, however, for the fo | Jack, with a fo ting of relief... “Ttisnot Indian | blow had‘been dealt by a sure and heavy bank fi fashion to let their game slip through their hands } and long before his consciousness returned, Hay c 80 easily.” py Jack was disar‘med, his hands and feet s4 a “They’s one ofher way to. a’count for it,” said | curely bound with rawhide thongs and himself. Watson, though siully, ‘“They must.’a’ see’d | placed in a sitting position, his back supporte your critters was about tuckered out, an’ the | against. a pile of saddles, This accomplished lady, too, fer that matter. They watched you | the giant, no longer making use of the sling fa e settle down by the spring, an’ onsaddle. ey | his uninjured arm, and tearing the dirty bang bh knowed you, anyhow, ’d be purty apt to keep | age from his head with a coarse laugh of your eyes open, to make sure she didn’t get into’| umph, passed over to where Ben Watson stil k no more trouble; an’ I reckon they lotted on | stood guard over the sobbing, trembling ma i waitin’ ontel nigh day, when mebbe they could | en, ] ketch you asleep. [cain’ithink o’ no other rea- ‘Better let her hev it out allto oncet, bossy o son--onless— They may be out hopin’ to ketch | muttered Ben, as the huge ruffian paused aml our boys off guard, jist leavin’ one or two to see | scratched his enormous head with a doubtit # you didn’t make off. Ef that’s it, why,we may | air, ‘“It/ll be easier to manidge her a’tel’ smell treuble yit.” wards,” is “What kind of a place isit? Can,we hopo to ‘* You're sure they ain’t no mistake?” 5) steal in, with any chance of success?” , “Pye got her own word for ’t,” grinned tH tl “Not if the reds is sneaken’ around. Ef we | decoy. “‘She says her pap’s Golonel Me i was all men critters, we mought run igus m—”? : ’ through ’em, but ’twouldn’t do to run the res! This speech was broken by a sudden distur a with her. har’s one way. I, or one 0’ the ance near the camp-fire. Happy Jack had r@ o boys, mought gowhead an’ see ef the road’s car. | covered his consciousness, and the thongs tha) Efitis, all right; if not, then I could manidge | pressed painfully into his flesh toldhim all in ay fe to let the fellers know we was nigh to hand, an’ | instant. He put his whole strength in one s@ a: they’d make a dash to kiver us.” aid »perhuman attempt to burst his bonds, but fail “Tf you will do it—rest assured, friend, any |.ed. The fierce le displaced the saddles @) I service you or your comrades may do this lady, his back, and he ro’ over sideways, glaring fr will be well recompensed, by her father, Colo. | defiance at the broadly-grinning fellows befol mn ‘ . : 8) 4 nel Markham— oa “Jest drop that, ef you please! Do you take ! 7 “Yowll save yourself a heap 0? t pul
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Stranger, ef you'll jest take things easy as they come,” grinned Watson, as he raised the bound scout once more to a sitting posture. ““So—I have you to thank for this,” said Happy Jack, in a hard, strained voice. ‘‘ Were you working on your own hook, or merely as dn agent?” “Well,” replied the decoy, with the air of being well satisfied with himself, “‘I reckon I cooked up the plan, but that’s the boss, by the sal— Baby Tom’ we call him, ’cause he’s so little an’ innercent. on him?? “ Be so kind as to ask him to step this way for a moment,” ** Now that’s sensible—I’m raally glad to see i takin’ it so quiet, sence things cain’t be help- ed— “Yes, I am very quiet,” interrupted the scout, with alittlelaugh. ‘So quiet that I won- der you don’t cut these thongs.’ Watson grinned but made no reply, and a minute later, leaving one of the men on guard over Kate, he returned with Baby Tom, as the giant was called. , ‘J wish to ask what we have done to deserve this treatment,” said Happy Jack, as the two men paused before him, *"Pain’t so much what ye’ve done as what we ‘spect ye to do,” rep * Baby Tom. “ Aw’ not s0 much you as’tis the gal yender. Fact I'd ruther you wasn’t mixed up in it a-tall, but we couldn’t git her ’thout ropin’ you in too—see?” * But what for—what do you hope to gain by it?” persisted the scout. “TI reckon the old man over yender to the fort thinks a heap o’ her, don’t he?” ** You mean to/hold her for ransom, then?” ‘Jes’ so, Lreckon we've struck a mighty rich lead this time!” and the overgrown scoun- drel chuckled aloud. ** And your story was all a lie?” added Happy Jack, turning his head toward Watson, who ré- plied, glibly enough: ‘oVention, stranger; gentlemen never lie, Til tell ye the hull the vicht off from eend to eend, Lhappened to. scontin’ "round, sorter permiskous like, when I ketched sight 0’ you two runnin’ from the red-skins. I saw you rub out them three, and then watched you take to the valley where the spring I crawled ‘up nigh enough to make out who am what you was, an’ then I knowed they was big money iu it, ef ‘twas manidged right. So Iskips back an’ lots Mebbe you’ve hearn tell * the boy ts two of em to go ‘long hi Lto sneak wp nigh enoug! u un fashion, to save bother, b fust. Dknowell yo t we cluded bug ‘ [ up ¥ L¢ - 1 i dal t ' tl i in when Dmad ma th ] the red Was up this-ra-away, fer that give mea good ix cuse fer'tocomeon ahead an post ti little” They. did: thar part, an’ Py Yours is yet to come,” oath What is it you expect me to do?’ asked Lfappy dack, in an even tone, but with a crow- ing tire in his eyes. 4 “To help make the trax rey fone mine, le,” was the prompt And if T refuse?” “You won't be no’ séch fool—or, ef ow do maa ord Nye i ‘ € you'll git jost the pizenest overhaulin You ever see!” i * Now lool: here: you fellow like -crday ‘fools than sober men) "Tha only thing you'll ever make out of this pr na scheme will be along rope and a short shr Colonel Markham will hunt you down ‘lik wolves, Now take a sober look at it. Don't you seo what fools you are making of-your- selves?’ There’s not one chance in fifty of your getting out of this scrape with a whole skin, There is one way—and only one, by which you ean make a fair pile. Come with us to the fort, and I'll see that you aro well paid for your trouble. If not—’ “What then?” growled Baby Tor. “Then [ swear to hunt you out—P’ve marked every one of you! If one hair of that Indy’s head is harmed, I'll have a life for it—” N “Te you ain't a clean gone fool you'd better keep a short tongue atwixt your jaws,” growled the giant. ‘*You’re a sweet-lookin’ ’coon to talk *bout huntin’ ys down! Better wait ontel it Comes your sayso.” “You refuse to set us—or this lady—tfree, then??? *'M Ta fool to. take all this trouble fer noth- in’? The gal kin go free when her old man shells re acting more outthe dollars—not afore. Ef she ain’t wuth ping him, Pll keep her fer my own squaw— 1 Baby Tom thracd away from the scout, and after a few words with Ben Watson, stretched out his huge frame upon the ground, with feet toward tho fire. The decoy hung a blanket, be- fore a narrow niche among the rocks, and flung another around Kate's shoulders. ** You'll find it comf’table enough in thar, an’ Treckon you need some sleep, You needn't bo frightened. You're wuth a herp too much money fer any o’ the boys to even look cross- eyed at ye.” | mind tellin’ ye, though, ef he’ll do what’s axed of him, he’ll be let go when we get the money safe,” Kate hesitated fora moment, as though she would speak to the scout, but then the rude ad- miration of the men around seemed to shame her, and in silence she disappeared behind the blanket screen. She had heard enough since the capture to know that there was nothing to fear on her ow account beyond a brief capti- vity. Colonel Markham would not hesitate long about paying the sum demanded as ransom, whatever measures he might afterward take. But Happy Jack—what would be his fate? And thinking of him, striving in vain to see some way through the difficulty, Kate fell asleep, nor did she awaken until the gray light in the east told of dawning day. ‘“‘T hated like sin to roust you out, miss,” said Watson, apologetically, as Kate pushed the hanging blanket aside; ‘‘ but it’s most day, an’ grub’s ready, an’ the boys is in a hurry to git outo’ here. Ef you'd like a wash, mebbé you could manidge with this,” doubtfully holding forth a battered canteen. ‘I could pour it on your han’s, ef yousay so. Wish ’t we’s better fixed fer comp’ny, but it’ll be better when we git home.” With a half-laugh at her curious handmaiden, Kate accepted his offer, thinking it wise to make the best of the situation, and felt much more like her usual self after the operation, Watson brought her some freshly-cooked meat and cold corn-cakes which were decidedly pala- table. Kate saw that Happy Jack was not ne- glected, his hands being freed to allow him te eat and drink, though Baby ‘Tom squatted near, a revolver resting upon his lap. Evidently the Ss,’ outlaws—if such they may be termed—were profoundly impressed with the prowess he had so-recently shown, and were averse to running any chances. 4 The meal was a hastiy one, and long before the sun cast its rays into thenarrow valley, all were in the saddle and moving rapidly away from the camp. Kate rode her own mare, while Ben tride Simoom, | xxception there was nothing to show was a captive. Happy Jack did not well. He was tied to the saddle, a rope iz beneath the horsé’s belly and connect the | rs “ - . | out's feet, While a thick bandage covered | spt close to her side, | sing reason for precaution, Happy Jack endeavore to > it, but so many were their turns and 1 es that his mi rew confased, until he lost all idea of | t course or whereal . The party pressed or vtair rate 1 nearly noon, when they toa halt. The scout:was. lilted from tie saciile nd af me delay felt himself placed new that he was being car ent; then along a level stretch Windings and sharp fins, Bnally being low to the ground. A. minute the bandare was removed from lis eyes. But then the young brave faltered, his foot slipper and he would have fallen headlong upon th rocks below, had not the. y abiet caught Bim in his arms, though imso doi the father hist te his balance. There was a brief, desperate sin x J r, though stou gle—then the two men rb nea vily dawn ‘tlic rocks, almost sweeping it clear of the assaih}- ants, The White Chief spring up, bruised: but ‘n seriously hurt, th: ultant cheers of the pal faces ringing in his ears.. A single glance tol him that the golden opportunity was past.) would bo little short of madness: to renew the assault, under the cirowmstauces, ard still clasp. ing the limp form of Kenelkwk in hisarme, ty gave the signal for retreat. In this,.as in a/\ else, he was obeyed without. a siigle murmii and, driving their mustangs before: them, tho surviving Sioux ran swiftly down the valley un til safe cover was reached. “Bf I didn’t say.so tho. devil’s a hog!” laugh ed Comstock,.in fierce glee. ‘The only fault is the pesky cowards run away too scon— Ha /” The man who had fought at the scout’s right hand arose while Comstock was speaking, and peered over the breastwork, curious to learn how effective their fire had been, but the next mo menthe whirled swiftly around and fell fiat upon his face,|a bullet through his head. Tho report came from almost directly below, and as Com: stock glared dewn, he saw a crippled savage ly- ing beneath a dead warrior, and trying to bring another rifle to bear upon the breastwork. Before his weakening limbs could succeed, a pis tol-bullet put an end to his'sufferings, and Cum- stock’s voice rung out, vindictively:; \ “Puta blue pill through the head of every imp down thar—make sure work this time!” The order, barbarous as it may sound, was obeyed to the very letter, There isscant room for mercy when white and red meet face to face, to fight for the last stake man can play for, Generous chivalry is shown a fallen fde fer more frequently upon paper than upon the bor- der battle-fields of to-day. 1's great mas- terpiece—the glorious Natty Bumpo—wou!l ’ had fortune -skins of to-day, and iver have lived to wear hair placed him among the rete f
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. band: indistinct outlines beyond the table grew clear- - ‘er, and he recognized among others, the pre- : | py pe ~ gmail pocket inkstand upon the table, beside a *% Gingy oblong of paper, evidently a fly-leaf torn _ from some bo é } | get even. ‘Now you sa: os “Now, str ele i _ goming aroun om business. ae 12 ja Dime Library. — = ee ee eee James Harrod would have been scalped by the Indians whom he drew from the river—pro- vided he himself did not turn barber first. Save the one man, whose own imprudence caused his death, not one of the defenders had been kilied, and only two of their number slight- ly wounded. On the whole they had good cause for rejoicing. Not a living savage was to be seen, though they well knew that the Sioux had not yot abandoned their purpose. ‘They'll hold off ontil night, 1 reckon,” quoth Comstock, filing his pipe. ‘‘They’s jest two things fer us todo. One isto waithere an’ give em another dose that’ll sicken ’em fer good, or, when it gits dark enough to kiver us, to crawl down, mount our critters an’ either ride chock throu;-h the imps, or else strike up the valley an’ try to give ’em the slip in the dark. They’s plenty o’ time, so you fellers kin talk it over an’ take your pick o’ the two.” i cWhere do you suppoze your friend, Happy Jack, is now?” asked Captain Stone, after a few minutes’ silence. “He's whar he kin do the most good—you kin bet on that,” rather shortly retorted the scout. It was evident there was little love lost between the tivo men. ‘*You think those were friends he met at the spring?” ‘‘Mebbe you see’d bleod-marks, an’ a dozen or so dead karkidges layin’ round loose, but I didn’t,” sniffed Comstock, tartly. ‘‘I did see this, though. Three white men come up; them ‘my pard had a confab; they cut up Saddle- nkets an’ muffled the hoofs of the two hosses. Bliss Kate rid one of the critters, an’ Happy dack walked aside her. One stranger went on ahead, one come ahind an’ the other led the loose hoss. Does that seem like they was ine- mics—say?”’ “Tt loeks as though they wished to hide their trail—but from whom? I can’t understand that?” - ‘From the reds, who was bound to foller ’em up soon’s they got through with us at the fort— of course.” Captain Stone was silenced, if not convinced, and for several hours scarce a word was spoken, the majority of the men taking advantage of the opportunity to catch a little much-needed sleep. Among these was Comstock, as soon as his pipe was smoked out, and he slept soundly until the hand of Sergeant Bowen was placed upon his shoulder. “A flag of truce,” he said, in answer to the tnspoken question. Comstock crawled to the barricade and peer- ed forth, A tall man—whom he instantly rec- ognized as the White Sioux—stood within one hundred yards of the stone fort, bearing a white rag upon a stick. He was unarmed, and alone. . “Well, what do you want, anyhow?” shouted the scout. » ‘ “You have a lady weit ye whose life I would be very sorry to sacrifice. Ido not ask you to surrender her to us, for I know you would refuse, as I would in your place. at I have to Eps is this, Let the lady descend and take her position upen yonder ledge. It is not more than one hun feet from your rifles, and you can cover every point. Until she reaches it, I pledge you my honor that none of my braves shall make a single motion to in- jure her or you.” An’ 8” the lady don’t cheose ta go?” “Then her blood be upon her own head! If my offer is refused she will shire your death. Within an hour, not one of your party will be ve. ‘She saysshe won’t go—se do your worst!” , Without another word the White Sioux turn- ed and strode down the valley. A few mo- ments later the white men saw a number of the savages, mounted, ride out and pause at long’ range. “ag U Senko they mean another charge,” said ‘Comstock, with a chuckle of grim satisfaction. “Ready, boys, an’ we'll give’em a hotter dinner -then they had afore!” : There was a brief pause, then, as though ready to lead his braves on, the White Sioux ‘ d himself at their head. He raised one id and uttered a shrill whoop. A strange noise came from overhead, and then, like a thunderkolt from a clear sky, a aoe mass of rock shot swiftly down, falling J upon the stone wall, crushing two men to qepelas pulp beneath its frightful weight. x Y CHAPTER XIII. HAPPY JACK WRITES A LETTER. , Iv required fully a minute before the long- ed eyes of the scout grew accustomed to the red, flickering torchlight. Then, hazy, in- sence of Baby Tom and Ben Watson. At the ‘same moment he noticed a stumpy pen and a book. ss. I reck we'll come to the pre at once. Thar’s pen, aper and ink, yender; you know how to handle ‘em, I reckon?” ““T can write, yes; whether I will or no, is quite another thing,” quietly answered the pri- soner. “Ef you act rusty, then we must coax ye,” grinned the decoy. ‘‘The boss, yender, ’s powerful hefty on the coax, an’ I never yit see the critter as could hold out ag’inst him very long, when he was in plum airnest.” : “Cut it short, Preacher Ben,” growled Baby Tom, impatiently. “* Will you write what we ax of you, or not?” snapped the decoy. ‘‘ Spit it out—yes or no!” ““Yowll get nothing out of me while I am bound. Cut these thongs and then I’ll listen to what you have to propose—not unless,” firmly re lied Happy Jack. Vatson cast an inquiring glance at Baby Tom, The giant promptly answered the un- spoken question. ‘“‘Turn him loose. Ef he thinks to play any tricks, so much the wuss for him.” Watson drew his knife and severed the thongs that confined the scout’s arms and feet, and even assisted him to arise—a task of no little difficulty, for wane Jack found his limbs al- most paralyzed. He leaned against the table chafing the benumbed members, and while thus occupied he made a discovery. The pen lyin, before him was thickly incrusted with rust, anc he knew that it could not have been used for months, if not years, Might it not be that the outlaws were unable to write—or even to read writing? If so, there was yet a chance of fool- ing the ruffians. is face gave no evidence of these thoughts as he drew his tall form erect and faced the giant. ‘ “T am ready to hear what you have to say, gentlemen.” Sige him, Preacher Ben,” growled Baby ‘om. “You're to set down thar an’ write a letter to Colonel Markham, tellin’ him jest what I say. Fetch one o’ them kags, Simpson. Let the gentleman take all the ease he kin.” Happy Jack accepted the proffered seat and cleaned the pen from rust as'well as he was able, but his brain was busier than his fingers. If he could only discover whether any of the outlaws were able to read! “Bf it takes you as long to write as it does to git ready, we'd better fetch in a mule-load o’ grub!” grumbled Baby Tom, in a tone of dis- st. are I was thinking whether it was worth m: while to write at all,” coolly replied the scout. “Tf I do, I cannot go back to the fort—they would kick me out for a coward, even if they didn’t accuse me of being in league with you fellows. Now what can you offer me to make up for this?” “We'll give you back your weepons an’ set you free, Isn’t that enough?” “There’s still another way. Write the letter among b Berta hon and then I needn’t be brought forward at all, save as a prisoner. <A to this and, poor scout as I_am, Ill give you one hundred dollars the day I’m set free.” “Can’t be did, stranger, and I’ll tell ye why,” quickly uttered Watson. ‘‘Fust, your hand- write ‘ll be knowed at the fort. They’ll know what you say kin be ’pended on, an’ a letter from yow’ll have more ’fluence thar then ef any 0’ us, strangers, ’d writ it. Ef you say so, they’ll know that, the lady hain’t bin abused nor mistreated, only tuck captive fer ransom, which ad wouldn’t believe so soon, ef ’twas any- body else’s fist. An’ then—they ain’t one 0’ us fellers as kin even write his own name, let alone stringin’ together a hull letter.” Happy Jack’s hopes sunk as Watson spoke, though the words themselves would seem to settle the important doubt in the very direction he had wished, But, contrary as it may sound. the scout would have been far better pleas had Watson declared that every man of them could both read and write. He knew that the decoy was no fool; the part he had played dur- ing the night was enone to stamp him as a shrewd, clear-witted rascal, far too cunning to place a dangerous weapon in the hands of the tool he meant to use, unless he held a more powerful one in his own hand. He felt almost certain that one ‘at least was present who was intended to read the message when written, to satisfy the outlaws that all was as they wished. These reflections passed through the scout’s mind with wonderful rapidity, but his delay in answering was long enough to draw forth a growl of impatience from Baby Tom. In ano- ther moment his resolve was taken. ~— ‘*There’s one point still that I cannot under- stand, You must know that I can have but little lovefor you. A manisnotmadea foolof, knocked down and tied up as you have served me for nothing, and if he has any blood left in his veins at all, he is going to watch for a chance to that none of you can either read or write. hat is to hinder me Mey Sea colonel plain directions for find- s place, with your numbers, and information that would of Service, instead of writing what you bid me?’ ““T knowed you’d think o’ that,” laugha fr Watson. ‘ But we've fixed it all right. ou'll th be kept a close pris’ner ontel after we’ve got thé le money safe in our hands, We'll send the lettef 0] by a sure hand, an’ ef he doesn’t come back, ce safe an’ sound, inside 0’ two days, we'll jest lift’ fi; your skulp an’ putt out with the gal, holdin’ her th a reasonable time fer ransom, w ich ef it don’t come, then we’ve agreed Baby Tom thar shell «lk have her fer a squaw. Now, jest take a fool's bi advice, stranger. Give over any notion you ¥¢ may hev of playin’ bugs onto us, fer it wont Ww work, an’ ’ll only be wuss fer you an’ thelady) 7 Write down jest what you’re told, an’ th 01 your stars you’re dealin’ with gentlemen ” 3 ©’ low down varmints as’d make use o’ Ms then rub you out to make sure you should: th n’t never try to pay ’em back in thar o' m kyne.” be ‘Very well. I will do what you ask, since } su can do no better. Tell me just exactly what th you wish me to say, and I'll put it down in thé hi t shape I can,” quietly responded Happy Jack, *¥' ‘‘Now you show your good sense, an’ we ‘bh won’t fergit it of ye when settlin’ time comes,” exclaimed Watson, approvingly. ‘Listen, gen. 1! tlemen, an’ ef I miss any o’ {oe pints, why you 8 kinset me right. Fust, tell the old man how *h you got away from the red-skins, but putt it ta short. Then you went into camp, an’ was sur. by rounded by a wheen o’ Crows. ecome along & an’ run them away, reskin’ our-skulps a-doin’ a ‘sp it. We're perty hard up, an’ think what we done was wuth say five thousan’ dollars, We'v tuck sech a fancy to you an’ the lady that we’v: cluded to keep you as eae Pag ontel the money’ paid. Ef the old man thinks what we did i wuth the money, he kin say 80, an’ the gent] man as brings him this letter ’ll make all th ’rangements fer the swap. Ef he don’t—waal I reckon he’ll hey to hunt up another da’ter, fe’ hell never lay two eyes on this’un ag’in Thar!” and Watson drew a long breath of relie and satisfaction at having safely delivered him: R self. ‘‘I reckon that’s about thething. Ef an Xu °’ i kin think o’ any ’mendments, don’t a am bashful, but spit ’em right out!” The company seemed to consider that all been said that was necessary, and then Watso: ordered the prisoner to transcribe his words. “Putt it down in your own way, but min aah say any more’n what I told you,” hi ed. fo of the paper, then adding: ** After a long chase, I succeeded in rescuing Mi: Markham from the six Sioux who were sent ght off for their camp, where we would be safe. were there taken prisoners, by fourteen men, le by one Baby Tom. They demand five thousan dollars as ransom for Miss Markham. They threat en my life if I say any thing of their force or loca tion, but in hopes that none of them can read, I running the risk. Detain the bearer of this. Pu f thirty men under command of Bill Comstock. Le’ Valley; or, better still, pass up the valley for near- ly three miles, when he will find upon the left han a small plateau, where he can see traces of the en campment of last night. The horse-trail leadin; from that spot will be easily followed. Iwas blin folded, and hence am unable to describe our course, oo I believe we are now in some sort of acave. You no will not have, at most, more than twenty men té h deal with, As yet Miss Markham has been fairly © treated, but black threats are made if you fail ta in ransom her,” up To this Happy Jack si med pushed the paper over to Watson, That was ¢ moment of horrible suspense, when the decoy ©” peered keenly at the well-filled page, and the scout felt that his life trembled in the balance. 7: But then Watson passed the paper over to Bab b Tom, who, after eying the words owlishly for he moment, spoke: 4: “Go fetch my old woman, Simpson. We'll P° see ef the lad has bin tryin’ to fool us.” Happy Jack met the suspicious glare with aB 4] unmoved countenance, though his heart | ot fast as he found his worst misgivings were about 72 to be realized. He had fallen into the trap conning set for hirh, and felt that he had sae rificed his life for nothing. He made no mo ‘fol tion, but summoning all his powers, resolved t¢ fo, make one desperate struggle, unarmed thoug! ot] he was, rather than tamely submit. — ¢ l _ He was not kept long in suspense. Sim Sic soon returned, accompanied by a middle po woman, dressed almost wholly after the sty! ste of an Indian squaw. She was of unm blood, though, and still bore traces of beat even through the deep lines imprinted by cat and trouble. * br pais ta lt dada ae ta aby Lom, an d rapidly over it. Thets ‘ina low, Thonotonious voice, she began to re Cares Happy Jack still hop undeceiy : voman ed his name, the If, at first. :
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aes oe Se Tt SESS 13 The Long Haired *Pards.’ j CHAPTER XIV, PRESSING THE SIEGE. ‘WHEN the endeavor to save his wounded son from an awkward fall resulted so disastrously, the White Sioux saw that there was nothing left for it but retreat to await a more favorable opportunity. Flushed with their complete suc- cess thus far, he knew that the whites would ' fight with redoubled desperation. Knowing this, he lifted the limp form of Kenekuk in his arms, and uttering a peculiar cry, ran swiftly clown the valley, followed by his surviving braves, When safe around the turn and beyond veach of the viciously-whistling bullets, the white chief gently lowered his burden to the wround, and with a face strangely anxious for one of his heartless reputation, examined the young warrior’s injuries. A pistol-bullet had plowed its way through the poung brave's cheek, inflicting “a wound more painful than dangerous. In addition he ' bore wounds in shoulder and _ breast, besides sun severe bruises received in falling down the sloping rocks. Not until he had satisfied himself that these injuries, though troublesome. , «were not likely to endanger his son’s life, did the White Sioux have thoughts for aught else, He gave a few hurried directions to his braves. , They were to keep close watch upon the whites, and hold themselves in readiness for a charge, should they endeavor to improve their tempo- rary advantage by taking to flight. Then, aided by an old, battle-scarred warrior, he washed and bandaged the wounds of his son, who speedily recovered his consciousness under their ‘treatment. When this was accomplished, the White Sioux for the first time realized how heavy had been his loss during that brief charge and stubborn assault, Thirteen of his men had fallen, besides the scout who was slain by Comstock. dhe seemed as far as ever from accomplishing his Purpore: ALS Passing around the turn, he paused within full view of the stone fort, Leaning back against the rocks, he studied every point of the enemy’s m- larg ia a dark frown corrugating his brow. ny But then the shade began to lessen, and a hard pe smile crept over his features, as he abandoned ' his position and returned to where the majority ad of his braves were awaiting. on ‘* The white faces are laughing now, but they will weep blood before the sun is over their nd heads, Their retreat is a trap; we will show he them how to spring it. There is danger, but ( n danger is the food of the Sioux. Listen, and I will show my children how they can pick up py the scalps of the white horse-stealers.” op , Into eager ears the White Sioux poured the | bold and dangerous plan he had formed while a engaged in inspecting the stone fort. As al- _ ‘i somewhat resembled the nd sloping cut made by a skillful woodsman in dé felling a tree, with an important exception. + The wall of rock which formed the back did In- slope forward, as it rose above the ledge, but a va line dropped from its outermost point would edd strike the shelf several feet inside of the barri- ng cade, After reba from he line grew broken gular, full of cracks and crevices as it } back to the summit, ul 6 White Sioux belieyed he could station other, the enterprise must have failed. With a lasso firmly secured beneath his arms, a young Sioux led crawling from point to surely neared the goal, guided and encouraged by thé silent signa: of their chief, who watched their progress from a point beyond the sight of the unsuspicious pale-faces belew, Anoccasion- al glimpse of his form was indeed welcome, and without the knowledge that his approving eye was upon them it may well be doubted whether the Sioux, brave though they were, would have persisted in the attempt, so rapidly did the dan- gers increase. The footing grew more and more precarious, the rocks seeming frost-eaten and splintered, threatening to fall at the slightest touch, and when within a lasso’s length of the points from whence alone they could hope to gain a view of those beneath, the six braves gathered together for the purpose of consulta- tion. Tt was evident to all that the points of rock overhanging the ledge would not bear the weight of a man, even with the utmost caution, much less with the sudden movements he would have to use in order to avoid being picked off from the ledge after firing upon the whites. Blindly obedient to their chief though they were, it is not Indian nature to sacrifice his life without even a hope of striking a return blow. Knowing that the chief was watching them, one of the braves knotted the rope around his body and was slowly lowered toward the bal- anced rocks. For a momenthe hung just above them, peering keenly down, then motioned his Gauiein to draw him up again. Fedring to speak there, he signed for them to craw] further up, finally revealing the discovery he had made. A single man, supported by a rope, in trusty hands, could easily destroy the barricade below by simply pushing over the huge masses of shattered rock, but in no other manner could the whites be molested from above, except at the cost of certain death to the adventurer. The chief must at once be informed of the alter- ation necessarily made in the programme, so he could play his part accordingly. The surest-footed brave volunteered to carry the tidings, and after agreeing upon certain sig- nals by means of which he could at once inform the five warriors of the decision, he began the toilsome ascent. From his look-out the White Sioux saw that something had gone wrong, and watched the climbing brave with anything but amiable feel- ings. He had counted so surely upon success that the idea of failure was bitter indeed. Insi- lence he awaited the arrival of the messenger, but a hot glow filled his eyes as he listened to the report. The prospect of success was even brighter than when he believed his bold plan was working to perfection. He hastily gave his warriors their instruc- tions, making sure that each one fully under- stood what was expected of him, and while they were making their preparations, he improvised a flag of truce and leaving his weapons behind boldly advanced toward the stone fort. The brief colloquy that followed has already been recorded, | the reader knows why the chief’s really sincere desire to preserve the life of Kate Markham, whom he firmly believed to be upon the ledge, was baffled. i Retracing his steps, the White Chief secured his weapons and mounted his horse, after see- ing that all was in readiness. Then he gave the decisive signal, and the e tant braves upon the hillside put their ee into operation, 7) braves were lowered at different points, and placing their feet against the masses of loose rock selected, endeavored to Wepte them over. One was instantly successful, the ponderous mass yielding to the impulse and thundering down upon the ledge, crushing two of the de- fenders out of all semblance of the human form, destroying full one-third of the barricade, then toppling over and crashing down the slope into the midst of the terror-stricken horses, two and setting the remainder free. A momen’ later the Secon mass descended, but though it struck fairly upon the stone wall, the horrified whites had sprung back beneath the sheltering rock, and no one was injured. At the moment the first rock was seen to fall the White Sioux sounded his war-whoop and led the charge. As he drew within range, he sunk behind the body of his mustang, an exam- ple followed by each of his braves; but instead of riding straight at the fort, he veered to the left and sped past, pausing only when beyond rifle-range up the valley, performing the feat without the loss of a warrior, though several hasty shots were discharged from the fort. The instant after the horsemen opened their charge, five Sioux, upon foot, their rifles s upon their backs, broke cover and darted switt- ly up the valley. Each brave bore in his arms a large bundle of freshly-cut, brush—mainly short stemmed, bushy cedars. Separating, they rushed on, each one A een 3 positions d vers of the horsemen under the White Sioux. ion broke from the lipect | ruse had succeeded, Tho white men, too, saw that a serious er menaced at sent a volley of bullets toward the bow! where ———————————— es Se the five braves crouched, but it was only a waste of ammunition. ; Coolly and cautiously the braves completed their preparations. Tho sharpened stems of the cedars were thrust into the ground, so that their tops formed a hedge around the bowlders. Another was secured to the top of the rock, while smaller pieces were bound around the In- dians’ heads. By this means, the ambushed marksmen Cahid: fire from several different points without danger of being seen by the white men, who, in return, eould only fire at random. Two more masses of rock were sent down from above, and the stone barricade was almost demolished. The concealed marksmen opened a brisk and telling fire, and the whites were forced to crouch fos down against the rear wall to avoid being picked off. The White Sioux saw that the moment for decisive action had come, and giving a signal for the braves above to cease their labors, he dismounted and led his braves on foot along the foot of the rocks, completely covered by the screened marksmen beyond. Their progress was swift but noiseless, They bore only revol- vers, knives and hatchets, resolved to end all at one stern grapple. hand-to-hand. They reached the foot of the blood-stained slope, and then, in line, began the ascent. Not a sound came from the defenders above, though the scraping of moccasined feet upon the slip- pery rocks must have met their ears. W Were they too thoroughly cowed for even a show of resistance? . Up the red braves crawled, until their heads were scarce a yard below the edge of the shelf, Then, with a wild yell, they sprung forward, the White Sioux at their head! CHAPTER XV. A FRIEND IN NEED. In a low, monotonous tone the woman read on, word for word, as Happy Jack had tran- scribed them. To describe the scout’s sensa- tions would be impossible, though his face, cold and impassive as marble, betrayed no emotion. With one quick glance he had decided upon his course. At the end of the table nearest his right hand stood Ben Watson, eagerly listening to the words as they fell from the woman's lips, Against his hip hung a revolver, which might be seized by a quick and resolute hand. Anoth- er moment, and the discovery must be made. Happy Jack was just on the point of leaping forward when—could he believe his ears? Instead of reading what he had written, the woman was repeating, almost word for word, the directions given him by Ben Watson! At the scout’s ie act ale the decoy turned quickly, suspicion in his sn eye, but Happy Jack was equal to the occasion, and carelessly shifted his position upon the keg, as though rere sharp chines an uncomfort- able seat, and Watson appeared satisfied, “fs there anything more you wish of mef’ asked the woman, in the same cold, measured tone, as she extended the paper to Baby Tom. “Only to see your back, that’s all,” replied the giant, with a brutal laugh. ‘Go ’tend to the lady, and mind—none o’ your lies! You're so fond o’ gabbin’, some o’ these days you'll lose your tongue— uckachee!” “Well,” said Happy Jack, when the woman had disappeared amid the gloom, ‘‘are you sat- isfied with what I have written? I don’t think important points.” ’a’ done better ef ’'d writ it my-° “Mebbe we'll make up & I missed 7 *Couldn’ self,” put in Watson. puss fer you—” “lll Come out o’ your pocket, then,” growl- ‘ed Baby Tom. ‘He kin be thankful we don’t slit his throat and chuck him in the first hole’ we see. ” “ T wouldn’t take offer it. All I ask is have complied with all ‘ me, the least you can do in return is to ict me out on parole—” “Too thin, boss,” grinned Watson. “’Twon’t do to run the resk of havin’ two stories git to tho fort. You don’t git a chaince to leave this afore the money is paid an’ all things settled fa’r an’ squar’. Ay to save the trouble o’ some one’s settin’ up with ye, I reckon you'd better let us putt on these ropes auger : \ “You'll be sorry for this, some timo,” was all that Happy Jack said, as he.submitted te the inevitable. He was bound hand and foot, his hat pulled far down over his eyes, then Placed upon the rude litter. Watson, carrying the light, led the way through a windin passage for some dis- tance, y pausing before a small niche in the wall. ‘The prisoner was rolled from the litter, and after a few mocking words, the outlaws re- their steps. Happy Jack’s first idea was to get rid of the hat, which feat he soon accomplished by rub- eoukty posted the strength of bis bond; culy to 01 the stre’ of | } oO find that they were too gs % ag hem off. ng and h applied for him to either burst or sli 1 off ere was nothing for it but to walk paneiiantiy as he might until the letter ho bad | written should perform its mission, eg our money were you to ecent treatment. Sincol rou have require) of Senta CET WS Fee OP See PHY
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14 He had much to think of. There was his first meeting with Kate Markham, closely followed by the thrilling events of attack, pursuit and rescue—evonts that had seemed to bring them so close together, to make them better acquaint- ed than would a year of ordinary intercourse. Then of the cunning plot they had fallen victims to—the nena anne that strange woman who had played such an unaccountable part: who and what was she? Why had she befriended him at the expense of those who were plainly her companions, if not friends. Would she also befriend Kate? And, thinking of all these things, the scout, despite his bonds, fell soundly asleep, breathing as peacefully as though danger was a thing un- lnown. How long he slept, whether it was hours or only minutes, Happy Jack never knew, but when his eyes opened to to the inky blackness, his every sense was fully alive. All wasstill as death, yet he felt that some unusual sound had awakened him. He felt it in every nerve—that peculiar sensation we all have felt, at one time or another. Now, as he listened with painful keenness, he caught a faint, rustling sound, that seemed Pratcally drawing nearer—a sound that might be made by a man stealing cautiously upon a sleeping foe, knife in hand; and for a moment he believed that some one of the outlaws was come to murder him, since they had, as they believed, the only service they could expect or wish. A moment’s reflection, however, showed him the folly of thisidea. Baby Tom was not the man to take so much ‘trouble, when a single pistol-shot would have answered as well, the moment he was satisfied that the letter was written in strict accordance with his views. ‘‘ Hist!” came a low, cautious whisper. ‘I am a friend, come to serve you, if I can.” ‘““Who are you?” muttered the scout, in the same guarded tones. “The woman who read your letter to those ruffians. I have waited until they are all asleep, except the two men standing guard be- fore the entrance. If you can pass them, you are safe.” *‘ And the—the lady? I will not attempt to escape without her.” “T expected you would say as much, nor do I blame you. But consider. You can do her no rood while you remain here, a bound captive, but you can serve her, once a free man. It is rank folly to even dream of her sharing your flight, at night, and possibly pursued. You must go alone.” ‘* And desert her? What would she think—” ‘That you were acting rightly, She knows what lam doing. She bade you hasten to her father for aid. She will be treated fairly, be- cause these men love gold even more than they do women. Come—your answer? Every mo- ment you linger lessens your chances. Refuse, and to-morrow you may be a dead man. I saved you once, ‘es reading that letter falsely —I was listening when Watson gave you your directions—but there are two men belonging to the band who can read, though they are off now, on some duty. If they should return—” “Tf she bids me go, I will obey. But can it be done?” j “Tf you are cool and skillful, as I think. I have brought you weapons—they are loaded, and will not fail you. And you can have this knife, when I have cut your bonds—so! Take the cords with you, and that will be one clew the less for them, and may prevent suspicion from falling upon me. Now listen, and mark my words well. Give me your hand—there. Keep your hand upon this wall, follow it care- fully until it leads you into the place where you wrote your letter. Then follow the left-hand wall; it will guide you to the passage leading to the opening where two men are standing guard. The ip en are you will find them Sad i 80, you can slip by without an alarm. If not— ~but that you can answer as wellas I. Do you understand?” ‘*Perfectly—but ba fear | is—” “You wonder why | am btn defeat the plans of the men I am living with? Some day ‘ou may understand, but there is no time now, brscty { have risked enough to prove that I am sincere?” . “T would as soon doubt my own mother! I thank Ca ag time I hope to prove how grateful I am-—” “Task no thanks. Follow my directions, and may God zr r ou! Wait here while you can count two hundred. By that time I will be safe back to my charge.” Without another word, the woman glided away, leavin: Happy Jack in a state little short of bewilderment. It seemed like a dream —but he knew that his limbs were free, that he was well armed, that he was given a fair chance for life and freédom, and his coolness soon returned. First counting the number mentioned, he crept noiselessly along the wall as di reaching the chamber and finding the passage beyond, just as deseribed by his ge friend. for use, he caution, in a few — =inmt from whence he th revolver cocked and read. stole forward with increased moments ro | what seemed a reckless rate. Dime Library. could catch a faint glimpse of the stars through the cave entrance. , But then he paused, ‘fairly stilling his breath. Directly before him, dimly visible against the sky-line, ie could just distinguish the figures of two men, side by side, apparently seated upon the ground directly before the entrance. nd as he listened, he could hear them conversing, in low, guarded tones. To pass them undis- covered was clearly impossible, yet he feared to delay, lest some one coming to relieve them should stumble across him. In an instant the scout’s resolve was teken. Gently lowering the hammer of his revolver, and turning the cylinder so there would be no danger of exploding a cap, he crept forward as far as he dared, then arose and with one bound stood close behind the men. Swift as thought the heavy pistol rose and fell, once, twice, then Happy Jack plunged down the slope just as an angry yell of rage and pain echoed through the air. His first blow had been sure and deadly, but the second outlaw was already rising in alarm, and the brass-bound butt merely grazed his skull, falling upon his shoulder, Happy Jack reached the foot of the hill in safety, then dashed on through the darkness at He knew that the alarm was given—the whole hill seemed in an uproar—and hoped to pass beyond earshot be- fore the outlaws could fix his course. This was the mote essential since he was in complete ignorance of his present whereabouts, and of the broken, dangerous ground around him. The stars would show him the general course he must pursue in order to reach the fort, but the darkness was so intense that there was great danger of his falling into some pithole, unless he could proceed with great caution. For this reason he deemed it wiser to risk a fall in the attempt to gain a safe distance at the outset; than to have those upon his trail who, thorough- ly fconversant with the locality, could easily drive him into a trap from which escape might be impossible. Fortune stood his friend, and he covered fully half a mile without accident more serious than several stumbles over unseen bowlders. He could hear the signals of the outlaws as they scattered in pursuit, but after he turnea into a little ravine that led to the south, these grew ainter, until at last he could hear nothing to arouse his suspicions, This ravine led intc a wider valley, and for an hour longer Happy Jack pressed on, and finally turned intoa wide ravine, or pocket-like cleft in the rocks, He knew that there was danger of running afoul his enemies in the dark, while, well armed, he need fear them but little in day- light. Reasoning thus, he resolved to lie in cover until the sun enabled him to make out his exact location. Pressing through the bushes, Happy Jack found himself in a cozv enough place. There was a niche below the rear wall, full of dried leaves, and crawling into this, he lay down with a sensation of delightful repose. But he was not to enjoy this lo A suspi- cious sound, came to his ear—and a moment later he distinguished the low sound of human voices, Cocking his revolver, he awaited the result. His suspense was skort. The voices ceased just before the entrance to the pocket. There was a momentary silence, after which the stiff bushes began to rustle, as though somebody was endeayoring to force an entrance. The bushes parted—and the hunted man could raed distinguish the figure of a man before CHAPTER XVL STRANGELY SAVED. As the ponderous rock fell into their midst, ending the earthly career of two of their num- ber, the defenders of the fort were utterly be- wildered. Not the faintest sound had heralded the fall of the terrible missile—the hand of fate seemed in it, and more than one of the men shrunk back and covered their eyes with their hands, afraid to look upon the death they be- lieved came from more than mortal might. Scarcely less superstitious than his red-skinned foeman is the unlettered plainsman even to the present day, and few men ever placed more im- licit faith in good and bad ‘ medicine” than Bin Comstock, and the majority of his com- panions shared thisfaith, Believing as they did that the rocks above were absolute y inaccessi- ble to man, the falling of the mass of rocks was accepted as indubitable evidence that their medicine was bad indeed. This belief will account for the little danger which attended the White Sioux’s headlong charge past the stone fort, as all but three of the surviving defenders—Captain Stone, Sergeant Bowen and Walt. Obermeyer—were coweri the wall in superstitious the Sioux charged the fort at that moment there is little doubt but what they would have gained an easy victory. When the second rock fell, unlike the first, it os warning by a dull, crackin: , grating sound + opened among others Bill Comstock’s eyes. He saw it fall, ant among the dust and frag- ments which followed, he saw a moccasin, this touched the ledge he sprung forward and caught it. A single glance wasenough. It was Sioux make, and was yet warm from the war- rior’s foqt—that told the whole story! A ye of great relief burst from his lips; but the har had been done. The five Sioux were just dro ping down behind the bowlders, not sixty yar rom the stone fort st In a few words Comstock made known his?; discovery, reasoning rightly that the moccasia}!! had been torn from the foot of one of the red-'t skins, through whose agency the masses of rock! ‘i had been overthrown. d. re f i° fg ie ic “ ‘*Tt’s a pity you couldn’t see as much before, said Captain Stone, grimly. ‘“‘Had you stood up to the rack, those devils couldn’t have reach B ed the rocks. As it is, the first man who shows his head will get it bored through for his}®! pains,” cd “Tt’s human natur’ to make mistakes, cap’n,”"# quietly responded Comstock, though his cheek® ushed hot: ‘When the rub comes we'll soar : which man does the best work.” ‘ There were few more words spoken, After} the one volley at the ambushed Sioux, the ten!@ surviving men drew back close to the rear wall, crouching low down, sternly awaiting the finalll struggle, which they felt ‘assured would not betY long delayed. : Their barricade was almost entirely destroy°® ed, and the little that remained afforded no pr | tection. The savage marksmen were pos iy where they could deliberately pick off any man who might attempt to stand erect. There waé® but one thing they could do: maintain theif crouching Epes until the enemy made theif8' assault and depend upon their pistols for pick?" ing off the savages as fast as they became visi?©™ ble above the escarpment. They were not kept long in suspense. Thé,! five Sioux opened a steady fire, aiming thei dc weapons so the bullets, just missing the edge of the shelf, would strike the sloping wall a fews™ feet above the white men’s heads. The flatten" ed bullets made more than one wound, in glan ing, until the whites, crouching still lower, crep’ out a few feet from the wall. i] tn stern silence, with weapons cocked an@'S ready, the besieged heard the cautious advance ™ of the Sioux under the White Chief. On and ug they could hear the moceasined feet draw near ot er—then came a pause, followed by a volle} from the five rifles from the valley beyond. The White Sioux sounded his war —th savages, ina line that extended along the ex tire ledge, showed their heads and shouldex" above the level—the revolvers barked loudl and the death-struggle was fairly begun. n The White Sioux was first upon the ledge, b he was closely followed by a dozen braves, di spite the hot and deadly fire. The pale-f. met them breast to breast, with knife and volver. There was no quailing. Each knew that he was fighting for sweet life. At such close quarters, with such te : odds against them, escape seemed impossible the whites, desperately as they might struggle d yet, saved the majority were, by one a those strange coincidences which sometimes 0G) ' cur, despite the smile of incredulity one cannot avoid, while reading. 4 Just when victory seemed in his el his warriors were crowding the white me against the wall—the White Sioux, in a void™ t overpowered the devilish uproar, utte afr the signal of retreat. His braves seemed wat. ° derstruck—but sharp and peremptory the th nal was repeated, and the power of disciplin ; was once more exemplified. As one man tli” Sioux turned and followed their chief over thi’ ledge. 1 It would be a difficult task to express the b wildered wonder of the white men as this su¢ den and unaccountable reprieve. A singl(; minute more would have completed the wavag work—they were well-nigh helpless; and no “J From the valley below came the loud voice 4 the White Eger and mechanically the rr pane turned in that direction. They saw orse and rider; and the-latter seamed a glor’ 0” ous vision, rather than a mortal being. It w a woman—young, and almost un 'y bea tiful. Her garb was that of a squaw, but ri@ and covered with glistening beads and goldey"? ornaments. She was gesticulating rapidly,;y though her voice was drowned by the outcry ¢ i" the Sioux as they rushed toward her, led by tl White Chief. Just before they gained her sid she wheeled her horse and rode swiftly dov the valley, followed at speed by the savag Ha t neither pai nor casting a glance backwar® = until beyond the curve and hidden from poe mete Rn ws ya Vranas sR eh OL, ort. “ Better reload—they may, return,” said Se, Se it Bowen, who was the to recover frojs,, | the sort of stupor that had fallen upon oA “Well enough to load, but they won't con * back—she won’t let ’em,” mutte: °F “Do you know her? who and what is she},;,, quickly asked Captain Stone. a “Yes, I know her-—ieartwreyy I’ve seen hei afore. Ef she ain't a angel, I'll never tell y¢ what she is.” ‘An angel such as many # man would give ~
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cee = The Long Haired ‘Pards.’ 15 rd & of his life to clasp in his arms,” Stone as ighed, sharply. r- {* The less you say about her in that way, the ell Ager you'll live, cap’n—mind my words,” re- miied Comstock, sternly, his eyes sparkling prickedly. A flame of yours—you show admirable | iste, I must confess. But whoever she may nis?, she saved our lives when our scalps were imbirly being raised. ‘ollowed by the others, he pressed through a’ BAD BLOOD. CONFUSED, half stunned and nearly blinded, Captain Stone staggered to his feet as soon as the sergeant released him from the brush, and around in search of the scout. Perhaps it was fortunate for him that the swift, heavy stroke had, in a measure, impaired his eyesight, for, white with a stern, deadly anger, Happy Jack stood covering the officer with his pistol, only waiting for the soldier to attempt to raise his weapon, not caring to stop bullets with their bodies which were intended for some other, but not so Bill Comstock. With a catlike bound he was beside Stone, wrenching the pistol from his erase with a force that would not be denied. ‘Il never pull trigger.ag’in!” he cried, sharply, falling back a couple of paces and covering each man with a pistol. ‘‘Sw’ar to me you'll let the matter drop fer to-night—out with it, quick! | Yes or no!” ‘“*He struck me!” snarled Stone. “Cause you insulted him—ef he hadn't, I'd ’a) licked him! You're even so fur. But that don’t matter. I’m boss of this party, an’ what | fightin’ thar is ’m goin’ to havea han’ in. Ef | youre dead gone fera muss, J’m your turtle- dove!” “The. gentleman’s quarrel is with me, not you, Bill,” said Happy Jack, smiling, despite hisrage. ‘This has been brewing ever since we first laid eyes on each other, and since it measure off his own distance—” ‘* Ef it’s got to be that way, I'll stand atween an’ blow thunder out o' ye ‘both. Now look here. Thar’s reason iy all things—or they should be, which ‘mounts to just the same. Gimme your word o’ honor, all two both ou ye, that you'll hear me reason clean through, an’ I promise that ef you ain’t satisfied, fo stan’ up. Ri The matter rests with ry mers Stone.” “ Nothing you can say wil ence, butas you insist, so be it. Only—cut it | short,” said the ofticer, in something like his na- tural voice. ‘**Here’s your weepon, cap’n. snatchin’ it *thout stopping to say by your leave, but I was in too big a hurry jestthen fer perlite- ness,” and from the bright twinkle in the scout’s eyes it-was plain that he was very well satisfied with the result of his interference. ‘ You fel- lers kin come in out o’ the bresh now; the circus is over fer to-night.” Comstock squatted down beside the fire and coolly cut a pipeful of tobacco from a plug, nor did he speak until this task was accomplished. The others were as silent. If the storm had | momentarily blown over, there was still thun- der in the air, “Now then—fust an’ fo’most, we're out on duty. We left the fort to help the old man’s daughter. We swore we'd fetch her in or go under a-tryin’. she got shet of the red-skins, thanks to my pard thar; but she’s tumbled right into a wuss nest, almost. So much fer so much, Now I hold that we hain’t no right to waste any time in simply ’musin’ of ourselves, when we hain’t finished up our work. That’s why I putt in when you two gentlémen was argufyin’ jest now. I know you hate each other like p'ison, an’ I know, too, that thar’s nothin’ short o’ lead as “ll cure you. to spile sport, when it don’t come in the way of more ‘portant business. But I hold that you don’t neither cf you own your lives while Miss Kate is in diffikilty—when we git her safe back to her pap, thenit’s a different thing. Then you kin blow holes through each other big enough fer a dog to jum see that nobody don’t interfere. But ontel that time, you’re goin’ to keep the peace ef I hev to take an’ lick vou both—you hear me!” “T don't doubt but what you'd try it, Bill, laughed Happy Jack, ‘And I, formy part, am | ready to pass my word to keep the peace until | Miss Wargha = | provided Captain Stone is agreeable. “You will give me satisfaction, then?” the scout. Wy enough! search, “That's settled then,” said Comstock, in a tone of relief. ‘‘Now then, s’pose we settle what we've to do next? Of course we've got to Fou? that’s the question.” ‘There is but one way—to go and take her,” briefly uttered Cap‘ain Stone; and though his words sounded like brayado, every one present knew that he meant just what he said. What- ever else he might lack, it assuredly was not co} e. tOAE the most, the party will not number more than twenty,” said Happy Jack. “I only saw fourteen, but the woman who released me, | spoke of others, whose return might be expect- drew a revolver from his belt while glaring | Bowen, Obermeyer and Martin sprung aside, | we could manage to get word to the fort—” ““What’s to hender? not the red-skins, fer if they ‘lowed to hang ’round these diggin’s, they wouldn’t ’a’ give us back our skelps when they had us fa’rly down,” and Comstock gave a brief review of what had occurred since his party left Fort Western. ‘‘ She cid it—you hain’t for- got the little angel you—” ** But how could she know—” “Didn't, Treckon. ‘Pend upon it, she brung some sort 0’ mighty big news—nothin’ shorter‘d | ’a’ kerried them off so art didn’t even stcen he fust one 0’ you as tries to burn powder | T’m the last man in the world | m is once more safe at the fort— | “Tt you forget to ask it, sir, I pledge you my | word to freshen your memory,” quickly replied | 't the lady away from them white Injuns, but ” must come, this isas good a time astnother, Give | the gentleman his weapon, and if he prefers it, | | asleep. aside an’ let you blaze away from now to sun- | » make any differ- | I ’pologize fer | through, an’ (ll stan’ by to to tote away the imps which we'd rubbed out,” “If they have left—and it looks like it, from shat you say—then our course is clear enough. One of us must carry the news to the fort, and guide a force strong enough to clean out that gang. The shortest way will be for them to ride straight to the valley, and follow it up. The rest of us can strike across and meet them there, or else leave.a broad trail for them te follow. This is the best plan I can think of; perhaps these gentlemen can improve upon it.” “Tam better at working than planning, but it seems tome that your plan is the only one that is left open to us,” said Stone, with wonder- ful cordiality, for him. “That is settled, then! I reckon we'd better squinch the fire an’ ketch what sleep we kin afore day. I’m tireder’n a dog!” yawred Com stock, knocking the ashes from bis yfipe, and stamping out the smoldering embers. f There was no dissent to this surge: tic n, and in five minutes more the entire party were sound Though the chances were t) ot the out laws were still quartering throug! ile hills in search of their late prisoner, Comstock knew that any attempt to force a passage through the stiff screen of bushes would instantly awaken him, and feeling too fatigued to stand guard himself, he would not ask another to perform that duty. With the first gleam of dav he ws afoot, and aroused his companion, while enting the last fragment of the food they }+d brought from the fort, it was agreed that: Martin, a cleyer+ witted and experienced scout. siiconid cerry the message to Fort Western, if tlhe Indies had really abandoned the siege, while tle remain- der should, push on for the ve ley, and there take up the trail left by the aLductors of Kate Markham. “Thirty men’ll be plenty. Ride straight i to the valley, an’ if you don’t find us thar, taks up the trail as we'll leave for you. Now ski? out, an’ see what a race-hoss you kin make c\ your legs?” Without a word Martin departed, and then the other five set off for Crooked Valley. Their progress was slow, both on account of the natu- ral difficulties and the necessity of keeping on a good look-out against falling into any ambus- cade, since it was almost certain that the out- laws were still afoot, in addition to the Sioux braves who had been left upon the hill above the stone fort. If the former should recog- nize their recent captive, and be in ignorance of the fact that a messenger had been dis- patched to the fort with the whole story, the chances were all in favor of thcir attempting to surprise the party and thus prevent the threatened miscarriage of their carefully laid lans. p Reasoning thus, the little party neglected no precautions, spreading out in such a manner that even if a need 4 was sprung, it could hardly in- clude them all. Owing to this course, the val- ley was not reached until i noon. They re- gretted the delay, but, though nothing had been seen of the outlaws, it was deemed no more than prudent to maintain the same course of act tion throughout. The little plateau was easily found, and the trail taken up, ench man leaving behind him as distinct marks as possible, to guide the expect- ed re-enforcements, For several miles the scouts found no difficulty in following the hoof- prints, but then, at a point where three distinct valleys took the place of the one they had been traversing, the case assumed a different aspect, The soil here was literally covered. with a thick layer of pebbles and ‘flinty shale, over which a regiment of cavalry might have parsed without leaving a trail that the keenest eye | could follow after an hour of sunshine, You shall not have far tc | | of disgust, ** We've got to split,” said Comstock, ina tona “Tell be the surest and quickess way. Look for hoss-droppin’s. Ef they ain”; any. keep on till the ground changes. The one as finds it, ll give a call, and the rest’ll cut ‘crost to meet him. But mind an’ keep an eye out for snakes.” Bowen and Happy Jack took one valley, Stone and Obermeyer the center one, leaving Comstock to explore the third alone. The lat- ter did not waste time searching for tracks w on the flinty ground, but trotted along, o watching that there were no side defiles, un he reached more fayorable soil, where he saw the broken trail, and immediately gave the sig- nal. Ten minutes later he was startled by the sownd
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ao Ope reer = om Tes area 16 — cen cont at, meena ete em men een & ee ——————— a armmenteerseey of firearms, followed by a wild scream of mor- tal agony, coming from the direction of his friends. Drawing a revolver, he sprung up the sloping ridge, and, seeing Happy Jack standing about half-way down the slope, he bounded recklessly toward him, just as Bowen and Ob- ermeyer made their appearance with loud ex- clamations of horror. At the feet of Happy Jack lay the bleeding ‘form of Captain Stone, apparently dead! “Good God! pard, what does this mean?” gasped Comstock. As though the words were magical, Captain Stone raised himself upon one hand, pointing the other at Happy Jack, and cried in a husky, shaking voice: sf As God is my judge, that villain murdered me! With. that terrible accusation, he fell back, stone dead! CHAPTER XVIII. A WOMAN’S WIT. Wuen Martha Bascom—for that was her name, by virtue of her marriage with Thomas Bascom, otherwise Baby Tom—declared she was risking her life in setting Happy Jack free, she said no more thanthetruth. She well knew that if her agency was even suspected, she would have to suffer the penalty, and Baby Tom would Saale be the one to administer it. Yet, had she known that discovery was cer- tain, she would hardly have hesitated. She was at the entrance of the cave when the party paused at the foot of the hill, and she had a fair view of the prisoners’ faces. Wer face turned ghastly pale when she noticed the young scout, and for an instant it seemed as thoug’ she would fall. As the men scaled the slope, she hastily retreated, nor did she come forward until Baby Tom called for her. “Take this lady back thar—take good keer o’ her, too, She’s wuth a chunk o’ gold bigger’n a mule!” In silence she led Kate Markham through the loom, passing into a small, though*not uncom- ortable, chamberlike recess, before which hung a rude-screen of skins. As the robes droppe behind them, she hurriedly demanded: ‘*That man—the prisoner; who is he—what is his name?” ‘He is a scout, or Perse I believe people call him Happy Jack—” hesitated Kate, half-fright- ened by the woman’s impatient vehemence, “You must remain here. I will not be gone long. When I return, you can tell me your story, and we will see what can be done.” Martha Bascom left the cell-like chamber and noiselessly glided along through the darkness, evidently thoroughly acquainted with her sur- roundings, for, though the floor of the cavern was rough and uneven, not the faintest sound betra’ her passage, and undiscovered she passed just outside the narrow circle of light east by the sputtering torch. Her position was such that she had a fair view of the scout’s fea- tures, and a long, earnest scrutiny convinced her that her suspicions were well founded. As the woman listened intently, almost: breathlessly to the conversation that ensued, her resolve was taken. She would save this man—would risk her life, if need be, and thus, in part, atone for the past. She readily divined the trap which cunning Ben Watson had laid for the scout, and she knew, too, that she alone of all present could read the message as really written. Every word that the decoy uttered was treasured up for future use, and when her husband bade Simpson fetch her, she fled swift- ly back to the chamber where Kate awaited her, and barely had time to caution the captive oad speaking, when the outlaw summoned er. ‘ The reader knows how well Mrs. Bascom layed her part, that of acold, spessicuicas agent; But when she returned to her abiding-place, na- ture asserted itself and she broke down in a flood of hysterical tears. ; Until now Kate had been repelled, almost ter- rified, by the excitable manner of the woman but at the sight of such bitter tears she forgot all else save that one of her own sex was in trouble. Her tender ministrations and sooth- ing words soon produced a favorable effect, nd Mrs, Bascom gradually regained her com- **T am better now—it was very foolish forme to give way—there is so muchto be done. Will Fe tell me all that has happened—why you ve been brought here? am not asking through idle |curiosity.” . _ Kate Markham complied, giving a brief out- line of what had transpired since the White Sioux so daring alia ied to abduct her, not forgetting the threats uttered in her hearing by Baby Tom. 5 * And that creature is my husband—God help me!” cried Martha Bascom, bitterly; adding, as Kate involuntarily pk away: ‘‘Thac’s: ight! draw back lest I should contaminate you nomorethanI deserve.” me,” said Kate, blush- MM ‘ - PAE ee 3 I ad al 7” ; tet lo Feats rents oH be wicked—your face ‘tng hotly. rou. cannot, he wicked —yor is Hof that of a eee oe se Godhad D “* My faee ve often wisl pags mad iy acne ~hat T was blind—hideous, | isa é an object of loathing! That is, of late years. Once I was very proud of my fair face and fine figure—God help me! The beauty was all out- side! It led me into sin—it sent my poor moth- er to the grave before her time. I was so proud and haughty, then! Now—I am the wife of a common drunkard, a brute, an outlawed rob- ber—it may even be worse!” “You have been more sinned against than sin- ning—of that I feel assured,” said Kate, gently. “But why tell me this, when it must be so bit- ter to recall—” “T could not help it. You spoke so kindly— you are the first true woman whom I have met for years. I had to speak, or I should have gone crazy. SometimesI fear that Iam mad —I would have ended all, long ago, but for one hope. But there—I am wasting precious time. ‘You are the daughter of Colonel Markham; tell me about him. f course he knows this stran- ger—this Happy Jack. On what terms do they stand? Are they close friends?” Kate’s answer proved far from satisfactory, She had been but a few days at the fort, and during that time Happy Jack had been absent on duty, She had never met him until the day of the feast—had never even heard his name spoken. “He isa handsome young man,” slowl tered Mrs. Bascom, her eyes riveted upon face. ‘‘It isa pity that he should rant and rough—” “You do him injustice, madam! he is a per- fect gentleman in—” There was something in the older woman’s aren that caused Kate to hesitate, and brought the swift blood flaming hotly to her cheek. “My dear young lady, I am going to say something thal you may think is very imperti- nent, but, believe me, it is my wish to serve, not annoy you. After all, I may be wrong—if so, there can be no harm done, You will not take offense where none is intended?” “T do not think you would say anything will- fully to hurt my feelings,” replied Kate, though hesitatingly. “T can see that you doubt—but time will cure all things. This young man is handsome, brave and is of afar higher station than his present calling would seem toindicate. He is such that any woman might be proud of his love. And yet—you must never allow him to become dear to you—in that way. You and he can never marry. You smile, but is there no danger? Ah, poor girl! that red flag is easily translated by eyes that have seen as much as mine, But there cannot be much danger where the ac- quaintance has been so short. You must be on guard, There is a bar between you two that cannot be passed. I can say no more now, for there is work before me. Listen,” and, drawing nearer to Kate, Martha Bascom revealed the lan she had already formed for the release of appy Jack. “Wis life hangs upon a thread—if the truth of that letter should be discovered he would be murdered without a doubt. And yet—if I read his character aright—he will refuse to flee while you remain a captive. You must send him word to go—for your sake.” Kate gave the requested message, and then Mrs. Bascom stole silently away. With face buried in her hands, Kate Mark-\ ham thought long and earnestly over what she had heard. Who and what was this woman? What did she know of Happy Jack, and what could the bar of which she had spoken be? In vain she sought for a clew to the mystery. All was dark—all was confusion from which she failed to extract a single gleam of light. r what seemed hovrs to the agitated maiden, Martha Bascom re-entered the cham- ber, breathing quickly. Kate looked up anx- iously, but a swift gesture checked the query upon her lips, A 5 ‘Lie down—not a word!” and the woman forced her toward the pallet of skins. ‘‘ Pre- tend to sleep—for your life!” As she spoke, Mrs. Bascom extinguished the light and dropped down beside the maiden. For several minutes all was silence—then, came the wild alarm of the surprised sentinel, and in an- other minute the entire cavern was in an up- | roar. A “Do not speak a word—leave all to me,” hur- riedly whispered Martha, as rapid footsteps were | heard drawing near. 3 avs _ Bearing a blazing torch, Baby Tom sprung into the cell, his face like that of an angry lion. He saw the two women lying side by side, though awake, and his worst fears were allayed as he recognized Kate. f ‘«Some of the men fighting, I suppose?” calm- ly said Ma \ ‘ a ‘*You hain’t bin out o’ here?” snarled Baby ‘om, ‘‘Not since we lay down—why?’ was the quiet reply. | . Dg Sate th “See "t you keep close, then, ontel I come back. Ef ‘you stir'a step outside, you'll git your brains blowed out—you hear?” and then, without waiting for a reply, he left the room. ‘He has £08 safely outside—God ut- ate’s so igno- mui Bascom, ,Dime Library. | as BS mipy Bote eo tured | ie tal escape —pray, as though for your bro excit : ttored Mas. Qe In silence, in fear and trembling, they awa! ed the result of the pursuit. Of the tw would be difficult to say which felt the d¢ interest. L age " As the hours wore on, their hopes incres \edhim reti Surely, unless Happy Jack nad sneceeae “Wer eluded his pursuers, they would have return jsquaw I ere this? the chie entering the cave, and a short time after cal the harsh voice of Baby Tom. “You hain’t heerd yothin’—they hain’t ttl Pi no tricks?” * ‘‘They’ve bin whisperin’ some, but I couldt make out what ’twas.about,” replied Sa “Thank God that we were prudent! ‘ mutter man has been spying upon us!” muttered M par. Bascom. + my wo Baby Tom entered the chamber and lighted thers torch, thrusting it into a crack in the wall, tht ing th turned toward the two women. the §& ‘Now, old gal, I want to know what all th horses means, What ’d you set that man loose fer?” dogs a “What do you mean?” coldly respondé Wew Martha, - } vo—a $f Happy Jack, I tied him myself, an’ I kn vo he couldn’t ’a’ got loose ’thout somebody hel or?” him, Thar wasn’t nobody fool enough to do “CO onless you did, an’I want to know what you ly, as it for?” is not ““T have not seen the man since I read you badly letter.” rouc ‘OTain’t likely you’d take a can’le, to tell ay— all what you was nm to,”and Baby Tom showe| sould his teeth. ‘‘Coma here.” } Th In silence Martha obeyed. The ruffian grasp com ed her by the shoulder, holding her in such | nized way that the red torchlight fell fairly upon he her, face. reacl “You see this?’ and he cocked a revolver ‘were which he held before her face. ‘Now yot butt want to tell me the hull thing from eend a pa eend, or I’ll send you to never come back ag’it fect in jest ten seconds—you hear?” In “Fire if you dare, you coward! You hay the not made my life so pleasant that I need fon ir death. Fire! if I knew all and more than ) ask, I would refuse to speak one word altel stor your threats,” dauntlessly cried the woman. sutte CHAPTER XIX. fort RACING AGAINST TIME. mot THe enigma that had so utterly baffled Pil hy Comstock and his comrades—why had th fait White Sioux drawn off his braves in the ve red moment when complete yictory was crowning “re their desperate efforts/had a very simple so Y lution, after all. f " When the chief sprung upon the ledge at the head of his braves, the first glance told him Wa that he had been fighting fora myth—that Kate wi Markham was not, had not been upon the ledge ! At that moment he would have been well cone Y9 tent to abandon the struggle, for, despite the yo thousand and one stories of his fiendish bar %Y barity, ke was by no means the ruthless hatei ma and enemy of his own race for which he re br ceived credit. He had sworn bitter and undy A ing vengeance against one man—the man who, urged on by flery peenc had wrecked the 0 life of his successful rival; but no more. He $a had taken life, more than once, but he had risk ed his own as freely. He had found a home se pecs the red-men, when his own color had rc hunted him down like a mad-dog. His natural fr powers had gradually won for him respect and) = veneration. His word waslaw. Butnstead of t being indiscriminately revengeful the White “ Sioux had used his influence freely in the cause ‘ of mercy—had saved scores of lives that would f otherwise have been sacrificed. He warred— only Een the United States troops, watch M ing and waiting for the hour that was tobring _— him the one thing that could make partatone _— ment for the past. He felt that this hour had ' come when Colonel Westley Markham as- sumed command of Fort Western. He bided his time with the patience his red-skin brethrep had hag him, and on the day of the feast he made his stroke, with the result already record’ ed. Since the father had escaped ‘him, his whole heart was bent on securing the daughter, and his firm belief that she was enone the oc cupants of the stone fort will account for the deadly persistence of his assaults. fa The dauntiless hing displayed by the whites had fairly won respect, and it wag with real satisfaction that he ‘seized the oppor ‘ arousing \ tunity of sparing their lives without the suspicions of , Sioux dial word do
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ne — —~ The Long Haired ‘Pards,’ he ew *Y &walshe White Sioux returned it should be to find » twod nis pesple dead and their scalps stolen. @ de ull brought the news, and the wife of the l \geWhite. Chief bade me ride like the wind to bid | 1creé edhim return.” cessfull’ ‘“ Were there no men among the Sioux, thata returnésquaw must act asa runner?” and the brow of \the chief grew dark. _ " ‘A squaw could ride as swift, though she might not fight so well. There were few braves to fight so many wolves, and the Yellow Pine said no warrior must turn his back to the foe. She bade me find ‘him, or die. I have obeyed.” “And God bless you for it, my Eunora!” muttered the White Sioux, his lips close to her ear. ‘I am very proud of my children, though my words may sound cold when spoken where others can hear.” Then adding, aloud, address- ll, tht ing the warriors, who were greatly excited by Be Vt tri souldt npson on the startling tidings: ‘‘ Go repare your ull th horses for a long and hard ride. The Crow fer?! dogs are threatening our women and children. pon, We will teach them a black and bitter lesson. Bo—and quickly!” : [ knd ‘I do not see Kenekuk—where is my broth- hel or? o do “Come with me—no, child,” he added, quick- ou ly, as the fair face of Eunora grew pale; ‘there ls nothing to fear. The lad is wounded, but not ou badly. Yellow Pine will have good cause to be | a of her young chief, for he fought well to- fell ay—he struck the enemy even before my arm 10we| could reach them,” * : They found Kenekuk eagerly awaiting their srasy coming. From his resting-place he had recog- uch nized his sister as she dashed by, and called to m he} her, but his voice was too weak for the words to | reach her ear. His wounds in face and body diver ‘were such that Eunora dared not embrace him, yot but their hands met in a loving clasp that was d t¢ apartial exposition of their deep and pure af- ag’ir fection, ; In a few words the White Sioux made known hay’ the important tidings brought by the young fea 1, and the knowledge of the peril which 0 reatened his mother seemed to suddenly re- ufte} store the young brave’s strength, Sto ‘We must go at once! why do we wait?” he uttered, seemingly not feeling the pain the ef- fort to speak caused his lacerated cheek. ‘‘ Our mother isin danger—and I am lying here—” Pj With a sudden motion he arose laughing t faintly as a little cry of alarm 4 Eunora’s re) red lips. The chief said nothing, though he nin} drew nearer as though expecting the wounded 8B youth would fall. “You cannot—it will kill you—” th “Tf I die it will be in the ‘saddle, my face to- i ward our mother,” was the resolute reply. gui ‘at will Eo though I go alone and upon foot!” ize. “Good! you are her son, to the heart. If On: your poae, is strong as your spirit, you shall tell the your mother we are coming with Blood in our ar: Syes!” exclaimed the White Sioux, just as the tei mounted warriors came across to where the re trio were standing. dy _A murmur of approval ran through the dusky ho, intend ee at el wets chief sparkled; he had wo a satisfed with the resul 3 heard, and was well sk: mong the led horses ‘were three that had es- m@ saped from the foot of the hill, when the falling ad tock had burst their tethers, an breaking away ral from the warrior who led it, the ungainly brute nd with which Comstock had experienced so much of trouble ran up to the White Sioux, with a glad ite whimper. At the chief's command, own is saddle was placed upon the animal, and then ld Kenekuk painfully climbed into it, dog, re- ad fusing any assistance. Eunora and her father he quickly followed his example, and then the , may rode rapidly out of the valley—less than one-half the number that had entered it that me Ce j Bill Comstock would have opened his coud he have witnessed the manner in which his troublesome capture bore tts present rider, At a motion from the White Sioux, the big- boned, loose-jointed animal became a marvel of swift, yet smooth and gentle motion, carrying the wounded brave as softly and carefully as a loving mother her babe. The trio rode at the head of the cavalcade, heading straight for Fort Western. And while they progressed, Eunora told her story with greater detail. A cunning scout of the Sioux had discovered nea plans of the Crows, who, it seems, had learned that the White Sioux with the larger portion of his braves, had departed upon some . lition which, from their elaborate prepa- rations, was evidently to be a prolonged ab- sence. Naturally enough they resolved to seize upon this golden opportunity of striking a heavy blow at an audacious enemy, and to 4 make sure of success, they were to call in seve- | val bands which were then absent hunting. | Afraid to weaken their small force by sendin away even one man, Yellow Pine, the chief's wife, bade her daugitter carry the news. Right nobly the girl obeyed, her horse dropping dead when sti several miles from Fort Western. " ering on, she dispatched the Sioux, whom _ she found in the valley, to the aid of the vil- _ lage, then, freshly mounted, sped on along the q * ‘ pis aR, | eine Little | | of the fort. | cast upon Kenekuk, by father and sister, for, | though he never betrayed by a sound the tor- | that his strength was fast failing. Only expression was that of White Chief's trail, reaching him, as heretofore stated. The sun sunk from view, and the curtain of night fell long before the party came in sight Many were the anxious glances ture he was undergoing, a loving eye could see And then, all at once, the stout-hearted lad gave way, and would have fallen but for his parent’s hand, Without slacking his speed, the chief sprung behind Kenekuk, and holding him fast, urged | his horse on—on like the wind, reaching the val- ley far ahead of his followers. Dismounting, he bore the youth up a steep ascent, entering a cunningly concealed cave, small, but airy and comfortable, then descended and awaited the coming of the rest. “You will ride on,” he said, addressing a middle-aged warrior. ‘‘Stop for nothing. I _will soon follow you.” As the party passed along, he selected two of the braves. These, with Eunora, he led up to the little cave, where he briefly gave them their instructions. Upon no account were they to venture from their covert except at night, and then every trace of their passage was to be carefully removed. If discovered, they were to fight to the bitter end—if need be, to kill themselves rather than be captured. To Euno- ra he gave directions how to dress the wounds of her brother. Then, with a silent hand-pres- sure, he descended to his horse, mounted and rode swiftly away. On through the night, like the wild huntsman «of old—on, without pause, over hill and rock, through valley and prairie, overtaking the Sioux, and shouting for them,to press on at speed while their aniinals could keep their feet, still on the White Sioux dashed, nor paused for rest until the sun peered over the mountains, One hour he alive his horse for rest and food, then once more sped on, riding against time. Twice during that day he was forced to draw rein, not for himself, but not even his- faithful horse could accomplish the impossible. As the night fell once more, he overtook the warriors whom Eunora had sent ahead. He rode with them for a few miles, for the village was now close at hand. Then—faint and indis- tinct, but unmistakable came the sound of fire- arms! The Crows had made their swoop! _ Using his knife for a spur, the White Sioux thundered on, his heart sick withdread. He ut- tered his wild war-cry as he entered the village and the exultant yells of the Crows were turne to yells of dismay as. that dreaded foeman plunged into their midst. With revived cour- age the Sioux braves rallied—forced back the enemy, slowly but surely. Then came the re- inforcement. The tide was turned. From vic- tors, the Crows became vanquished. Blood flowed like water. Stout braves fell like the leaves in a storm, and the retreat of the Crows was marked by a trail of stiffening co: ; Pale, haggard, his right arm b ined to the elbow, the White Sioux returned .to his vil- 1 sickening dread parted his lips as he sprung to- ward his: lodge. Four forms lay clows tb ether. bey were Crows—the fourth, his wife, Yellow e As he raised her head to his bosom, the red light of the blazing lodges revealed a smile up- on her lips, and she murmured: “Tell my son—I leave him three scalps—for his lodge!’ She raised her head, feebly en her lips to his, then dropped heavily. Yellow Pine was CHAPTER XX. _ AN EXCHANGE OF QUARTERS. — With a ay of horror Kate Markham sprung forward and turned the threatening weapon aside from the temple of the outlaw’s e. Peat action so speruntel Baby — that he airly relinquished his upon the weapon an advantage that the Susidiercenienat despe- rate was not slow to seize upon. Release that woman—move not to injure her in any way, or I will shoot you like a dog!” With a courage and decision born of the emergency, Kate Markham confronted the gi- ant and leveled his own revolver at his head. er voice ae, er clear and commanding, pet ll Ny He a her: oes ye boded dan- » e Vv © pistol was steady and true, Slowly the fingers of the giant relaxed their tony and his arm dropped to his side. H ig blue eyes were fixed upon Kate—but od : nm @ throughout he was the very picture of utter amazement, He seemed utterly unable to com- fl fore of"thentuaion appeared to daw UD of the ation a wn U1} on his sly wits. The ludicrous look of be wilderment disap) before a rin cecened. erie of amused py aia ye as ie agi ES ej ted: a Pu as ye ee a= “Promise not to injure her, or I fire!” rep fe steadying the heayy pistol wos tih ead id oy ger tntis Pe en + with both | but Baby Tom gave h i teateny bento tien ae i ae ‘*T never railly ‘lowed to hurt her,” coolly re- plied Baby Tom. ‘‘I jest wanted to skeer the truth out o’ the critter; but ef I wanted to kill her the wust kind, one word from you'd be more’n enough to save the powder,” and a hot light of admiration filled the outlaw’s eyes. ‘Especially when backed by a loaded pistol,” retorted Kate, with a rather hysterical laugh. “The weepon ain’t nigh so dangerous as your two eyes”—but the undoubtedly sincere, if rudely-expressed speech was cut short by a low ‘satirical laugh from Martha Bascom that caused the hot Blood to darken the giant’s brow, as he turned : ee upon. her, slow, old woman! I let ye off this once—an’ you kin thank this young leddy for’t. But go slow! ef ever I find you’ve oF anythin’ to do with lettin’ that feller slip us, you'll never get another chaince , of playin’ your devilment— mind that!” “The day is past, Tom Bascom, for me to care for either your hate or your love. I almost wish you had blown out my brains. I would do it yee only I know that would please you too well— “That’s enough. Now. you two want to git ready fer a long an’ hard ride, We've got to skin out o’ yer, an’ that mighty lively, too! You hain’t got much time, an’ you’d better make the best of it.” Baby Tom, without attempting to recover his revolver from Kate’s hands, turned and left the chamber. He was in a far better humor than when he had entered it. The unlooked-for dis- play of spirit on the part of his captive, seemed to afford him no little gratification. With a caution to Simpson against letting the women pass him, the giant made his way to the cave entrance, where still lay the co: of the ard whom Happy Jack had slain in making isescape. Day was just beginning to dawn, as the creamy tinge beyond the hills bore evi- dence. Baby Tom gave vent toa nt—whether of satisfaction or of disgust, would be hard to tell— ashe saw a small group of men approaching. He r ized them at once, and his cat-like vision told him that Happy Jack had not been recaptured by them at least. “The varmint got clean off!” said Ben Wat- son, in a tone of intense disgust. “A blood- houn’ couldn’ foller a foot trail through them rocks, Some o’ the boys kep’ on, but’ "tno use. They'll never ketch a man like him !” ‘* An’ that knocks your big money higher’n a kite!” sourly uttered one of This fellows. ‘‘ An’ we've got the gal on our hands, to boot. Ef ever you ketch me in a-nother sich fool job—” ‘You kin skin out jist as soon as you like, Bar- ‘You want to go ker,” interrupted Baby Tom. ‘Thar’ll be so much the more fer the rest. 8S’ he did git away, what does that hurt? e’ve got the gal, hain’t we? An’ we'll hang on to her ontel the old man shells out the chink, or he’ll never set his Nn eyes on her this side o’ monkey-hea- ven “ That’s the talk—I knowed you'd got the A faint voice saluted his ear. A ery of | sand, cap’n! Wekin rake the pile ef we jest play our d fer all its wuth. e must hunt out another hole, take the gal thar an’ keep her close, while we send on our tarms to the fort—” ’ “Who'll kerry ’em?” interrupted Barker. “He'd better ’sure his life, fust.” : “T will—ef you yee ers to give me Dick’s sheer—that cuss hit er’na mule kud kick! Tl run the resk, ef yousay so. Ef I don’tcome back inside a week, you kin know that I ain’t in travelin’ order, an’ then you must look out fer snags. But ri put it to ’em so strong the oldman won't dar’ any tricks.” “What wedo’s got to be did soon. They’s no tellin’ but that cuss may run ’cross some- body out huntin’ fer the gal, an’ we want to be somewhar else when they call, Ireckon, Ef the rest o’ the boys was here—but they kin take thar chainces. I reckon we'd better make fer Black perie hf ret good, = we kin git in by the crick ’thout leavin’ any sign. “Better play the old game. Start off to- ther, then split up an’ shoe the critters. Wait fer me— “Fef we have to wait too long, I reckon Tl come to see what’s the matter. Five thou- san’ dollars is a pritty big load fer one man to folly added the giant ‘Tt ‘ll be in greenbacks, an’ not so hefty,” re- a Watson, evidently not caring to notice the P ed threat. r some further discussion this was His | adopted, and the outlaws at once set about their pre tions. : ; While the men were busied with the horses, several others, inclu Baby Tom, i ‘ked up the few articles of use or value which The cave contained, and which could be trans- ‘ported back. Then the gi summon- ed and Kate, finding them in on horse Martha Bascom readiness for the road. They followed him in silence to the outer air, where the animals were _ Kate could not suppress alittle — ery of core by -mingled emotions, as she re- co; ls awaiting them. it Simoom among the others; 01 a x bean af 1 little time for reflection’ her waist and raised . oe ee ee Poe eee
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18 Tae waleade trotted briskly along the valley. “he iivst red rays of the sun were tinging the highest rock-points. The air was fresh and my. Under almost any other circumstances, Kate Markham would have enjoyed the ride; but it was almost positive torture, now. The terrible uncertainty whether her father was living or dead—the danger that threatened her- self; these anxieties were almost unbearable. For an hour or more the party rode on, then, at a point where the country was more level, the outlaws separated into pairs, save the three men who each had one pack-horse, and who set off alone. After riding a few hundred yards beside Kate, Baby Tom dismounted, and with gloths andskins brought from the cavern, care- fully wrapped the feet of both horses. In that minute came a strong temptation upon the faaiden, and she cast a quick glancé around her, But there were three different parties still within sight, all engaged on the same work as the giant, and she knew that the time had not yet come, ° Baby Tom remounted Simoom and once more ursued his way through the apparently track- oe waste of rocks. Yet he never hesitated, ne- ver once seemed at a loss which course to pur- sue. For more than an hour he never uttered a word, scarcely glancing toward his prisoner, seemingly satisfied that while he held the hal- ter of her horse, she could not escape him. Kate's left hand rested upon something hard and heavy, which was concealed within the folds of her riding-skirt. It was the revolver she had taken from the giant a few hours pre- viously. She felt that one shot from it would set her free—she had resolved to make the at- tempt; yet Baby Tom seemed so unsuspicious that the deed looked alrnost like murder. “PD y’ know what I’ve bin thinkin’ about?” suddenly uttered the outlaw, turning his head and looking squarely into her eyes. “I’ve bin thinkin’ what ['d better do: keep right on an’ meet the boys, as I agreed, or take you an’ strike out on my own hook, Which 'd you say, ®’posin’ I was to give you the ch’ice?” “Take me back to the fort!—to my father! act the part of a man and a Christian—” impul- | sively began Kate. “ Ar’ git a chunk o’ lead fer my pains,” dryly interrupted Baby Tom. ‘That would be smart!’ ‘* You shall not be harmed—I pledge word, If you want money, you s it—” “T’spect to. I was thinkin’ ef it wouldn’t be the best plan to marry you out-an’-out—” A sharp cry of anger broke from ‘Kate’s lips, and her face flushed at the gross insult. It was the one thing required, and she slipped her hand down until it firmly grasped the pistol-stock, Then, forcing herself to speak calmly, she looked the giant in the face, and said ‘You ask my advice, then?” “Sartin,” came the unhesitating response. ** Here it is!” As she uttered the words, Kate raised the re- volver, cocking it with the same motion, and hg the muzzle almost touching the outlaw’s ‘a rou my lL have ce. But the next moment she felt the weapon twisted from her grasp, and heard Baby Tom utter a taunting laugh! Quick as her action had been, he had been no less alert, and duck- {ng his head, the bullet had whistled harmlessly y's “Now we'll ride on,” he said, laughing. “That was all I wanted. Ye see, I felt the weepin when I lifted you on the hoss, an’ I knowed you'd be on the look-out fer some sech chaince, butJ didn’t like to s’arch ye afore t boys. So I’cluded to git your mad up—an’ did, too!” Kate dared not trust herself to reply. The hot tears began to well up into her eyes, but she averted her head to keep them from _ his sight. And as she did so, she saw something a caused her heart to beat with suffocating orce, ~ Far away, ahead and to the left, were several boysemen, They were upon high ground, and as the merning sun shone upon their forms, she coald see that they were white men. She could see, too, that one of the number rode a large white horse—and the wild hope flashed through her mind that this was her father, upon his fa- vorite charger, searching for her! And she prayed in her heart of hearts that her pone would not observe them in time to avoid the meeting, CHAPTER XXL HAPPY JACK IN TROUBLE. CHARGING Happy Jack with his murder, Cap- tain Lawrence Stone sunk back, dead! When he heard those words, so painfully ut- tered, when he saw the dying man’s ffiager leveled at himself, scout seem Saeiiied. satiny: tho biealanietermnrtnbies Te ] 9 involun’ away of the two soldiers, Not until then did he ‘ ¥ \ Pith siete tun sks | Kern Ae 1 am ls aoa ‘Dime Library. seem to realize the whole truth—that he was branded an assassin. An angry cry parted his lips, and he started forward as though to force a retraction from the lips that were already locked in death, but Bill Comstock stepped be- fore him, saying, gently: “The man is gone, pard. I reckon he was crazy when he said that. I know you wouidn’t ‘a’ tetched him onless it mought be in a fa’r, man-to-man fought.” with him. So far from doing him harm, I tried to save his life. Look over yonder—by the black rock. You willfind my game there,” said Happy Jack, coldly, though his eyes were still filled with a lurid fire. Comstock uttered a joyful yell as he sprung to the rock indicated, for there, in the shape of a rough-clad man, now groveling in a pool of his own blood, he found what he believed would prove the true solution of this terrible enigma. The two soldiers and Happy Jack slowly ad- vanced, and as the wounded wretch looked up, the scout uttered a little cry. He recognized Ben Watson,. the decoy! “Keep a stiff lip, pard—stick it out—I won’t peach!” The words pg an from the, outlaw’s lips in snatches, and a look of intense cunning stole over his face, while his eyes rolled wildly from side to Side. Comstock started. Bowen ‘and Obermeyer interchanged swift glances—but Happy Jack caught them, and his face flushed hotly. “T don’t know what you mean,” he uttered, stooping and endeavoring to fix Watson’s eye. “That [ shot you, I don’t deny; but it was only after you shot Captain Stone.” Sergeant Bowen now interposed. His tone was grave, and there were traces of painful re- gret upon his face. ‘*Gentlemen,” he said, though his eyes were fixed upon those of the young scout, ‘‘ this is. a very painful affair—and one that must be seared up, at whatever cost. I think I can manage it. But first—sir,” and he extended his hand te Happy Jack, ‘‘I believe you are as in- nocent as I of this crime.” ‘““You do me no more than justice, friend,” quietly replied the scout. -‘‘ As for your plan— all we wantis the truth.” ‘*T know it, sir, Then lend me the pistol you have in your hard. Thanks. See—I mark it with two crosses. Comstock, will you mark that one?’ and the sergeant nodded toward the re- volver lying beside the wounded outlaw, In si- lence the scout pointed to the initials ‘‘B. W.” rudely cut upon the walnut stock. “Good! you see—this pistol—belonging to Happy Jack—is Colt’s Arnvy pistol, while that one is Navy size. One of these two weapons must have killed Captain Stone. Unless the bullet has passed entirely through lus body, it will not be hard to determine which weapon it came from.” A quick smile flashed across the scout’s face, but Comstock muttered something that sounded very much likea curse. Sergeant Bowen turn- ed toward the corpse, and Comstock spoke to Jack in a quick, guarded tone: * They’s only two ag’inst us—I kin knock ’em both over—everybody "Ul lay it on them In- juns— me Are you crayy—or drunk?” and Happy Jack stared at his comrade in genuine astonish- ment. “Look here,” added Comstock, holding up the istol which had fallen from Ben Watson’s faa “ You see that?” Happy Jack turned white as a snow-drift, as he divined the scout’s meaning, and for once in his life he realized. the full meaning of the word fear. His hand shook as he seized the weapon and closely inspected it. There was no mistake. The weapon had not been discharged! and arownd the tube upon which the hammer rested were small pactioes of dust ! ‘*Quick—say the word—it’s you or them!” hissed Bill Comstock, his eyes on fire, his mus- cles aiverin + Ne a cam, ever! y respon py Jack, toss- ing his head proudly back. of pen innocent, before God! 1 will not—” Fo ‘““Then ’knowledge he threatened you—dre fu’st; you hed to shoot him to save your life—” fT, dia not—he never assailed me, nor I him.” “Se t’s found the bullet—wants you to come an’ witness,” said Obermeyer’s hoarse voice, and as the two scouts turned toward him they caught asuspicious glance that brought the hot blood to Happy Jack’s cheeks. “Hark!” exclaimed Comstock, bending his ear, ‘‘somebody’s comin’—I hear hoofs! ‘ake to kiver—” ; “They are whites—I hear the jingle of sa- bers,” interrupted Happy Jack, not moving. “They must be friends; yet Martin could not have gone and returned so quickly.” Obermeyer ran rapidly up the rocky hill and peered over into the valley beyond.’ Then he rose erect, and, with a loud cheer, swung his hat above his head, then aif ame Sergeant Bowen arose beside the corpse and said, with an air of relief: “They: must be friends. We will wait. The more we have the better. The bullet ’ ’ “ 4 MecaWVeerp taee iene 5, “T had pledged my word to keep the peace | is there—lodged just under the skin, A few\t tha minutes will show.” corp: Comstock sat down, moodily picking at thd, four earth. There wasa brief period of silence, theng side. with Colonel Markham at their head, a squad O}ward t cavalry trotted up to the spot. From thé You troubled look upon the commander’s face, He rela was evident that Obermeyer had spoken of théased?” tragedy. Uponthe faces of the soldiers reste Happ: curiosity, but'there were no traces of respect if ‘* The! the glances cast upon the dead man, His conmital sh duct in life had not been such as wins eithehe dec love or respect from his inferiors in rank, ght s) “Your report, sergeant,” said Markham, disdging mounting. ‘* Obermeyer tells me that Captaiihe bu Stone was murdered.” Saluting, Sergeant Bowen briefly detailed th facts so far as known. } ‘‘Give me the weapons. You say they aré marked?” The earl were handed him, and closely ex? ¥ cd, usc ‘ours. dolonel OR amine A quick glance toward the ace told that he had made the same discovery as Bill Comstock, but without a word he turned tovords where the corpse lay. One hand still clutchedbediet the butt of a pistol. Markham gently unciaspiiers ¢ ed the stiffening fingers and held the weapon up) where all could see. It was richly ornamente and bore the peculiar monogram of the dead man upon a plate set into the stock. <A singl chamber was discharged. The weapon was oné of those commonly called ‘ Colt’s Navy.” ** One word, Colonel Markham,” said Happ’ Jack, coldly. ‘‘I have been accused—wron fully, as God is my judge!—accused of murders. ing that man. Before you investigate further or © wish to make a statement. Sergeant Bowemmeant 7 very e| and myself were searching for a trail in theplosed valley beyond. 'Wecame upon soft ground, anflresolv found that our game had not passed in that di- Then rection, and cut across that ridge to rejoin our comrades, Captain Stone and Walt Obermeyer were searching for the same trail in this valle: —Comstock in the one just beyond. Sergeant Bowen fell behind—he had gotten some gravel in his boot, I believe. I passed on ahead. Just ® as I passed around yonder large rock—the one 8 witk the three cedars upon it—I say Captain Stone arise from his knecs and step forward, ¥ calling sharply to some person, at the same time drawing hisrevolver. Then I caught sight of a man—he lies yonder, wounded; I saw him in the act of firing at the captain, and, cover- ing him, I fired. Both he and the captain fell, [ran forward, thinking there were more ene mies near; but it seems there were not, Ther Obermeyer came; and shortly after Sergeant Bowen and Comstock.” “How many shots were there fired?” asked Markham, “T heard only two—my own and that of the deceased. And yet—there must have been an- other, since he was shot.” ‘*You were standing by that bowlder when you fired?” , “Yes, Captain Stone was standing just hibncwe he fell; the stranger was beside yonder rock, “You are positive that when you fired, the deceased and the wounded man were facing each other?” ‘“*T can take my oath to it, if necessary,” was the pearap reply. : There was a sudden change in the colonel’s face as Happy.Jack made this answer: his brow grew dark and his thin lips were firmly compressed as he advanced. “T must request you to deliver me your arms—” { \ b The scout started back with a low cry. Com- stock strode to his side, an ominous fire in his black eyes; but this movement served to bring Happy Jack to his senses, and pay pushing Bill aside, he resigned pistol and e. “Thanks, I hope soon to return them with congratulations. A brief examination will serve to prove who killed the deceased. Until then—sergeant, this gentleman is under your charge.” : “Make a break for’t, pard—I’ll kiver ye!” ea gerly muttered Comstock, ‘Dodge ’mong the rocks—” “You, too, think me guilty, Bill?’ and the accused smiled sadly. ‘‘I thought you knew me better—” ‘ é “The man as dar’ say you did it, or even think o’ sech a thing, Pll chaw up like smoke!” grunted Bill, with an ugly glance at Bowen. “Tf you could manage to knock me down, sir,” dropped slowly from the soldiér’s lips, ar he edged close to Jack. “Strike hard and suré — —don’t be afraid of hurting me—snatch my re volver and run forit. Itis your only chance —a moment’s delay will be too late.” ‘* Are you both —or am I?” impatiently uttered the scout. ‘‘Or are you both in league to make me appear guilty, whether or no?” ‘Will you swear that you are innocent—that Ks did not—I mean, could it not have been that he bullet glanced, or something—” “His blood is not w my head, by accident betray ‘ ibe t: by m on 'S er y, but earnestly respon: PPY 3 ‘ that_ the “T believe you! only—God “4 the same caliber murderer did not use a pistol of as yours, for if he did—!”
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The Long Haired ‘Pards. oe a ~ A fewht that moment the little group surrounding corpse reported. At a signal from the colo- & at thd, four soldiers dismounted and advanced to ce, then side. Signing for them to follow, he strode squad Ojward the accused. rom th‘ You still persist in your statement as to face, je relative positions of yourself and the de- n Of théased?” he asked. Happy Jack bowed in silence. rs Tes **Then I arrest you for willful murder! spect I The His conital shot came from that bowlder—it struck iS eithetie deceased beneath, and to the rear of his c, _ @ht shoulder, passing through his body and om, disdging beneath the skin upon his left breast. Captaifthe bullet came from the same size pistol as ours. Do your duty, men!” coldly exclaimed iled thdolonel Markhain. / ney aré CHAPTER XXII. he GROPING IN THE DARK. “ly exe FoR one moment Happy Jack stood motion- sth, a sort of dazed incredulity written upon very asvery feature. He seemed to be listening to rned tovords intended for somebody else. But as. in utchedibedience to the colonel’s orders, the four sol- nclaspliers advanced to arrest him, his magnificent pon uporm suddenly straightened, his head was flunc: lentedsroudly back, his face flushed hotly, and a dan- 9 deadrerous light filled his eyes—as though, unarmed, singl@e would defy their power to arrest him for’a ‘as onésrime of whie rhe wasinnocent. But this lasted . . @nly for an instant. Then the scout bowed his Tappynead, his hands unclenched, he was ready for vrong+he inevitable, urders, Bill Comstock had missed nothing of all this. ‘ther IFor one moment he believed that his’ friend 3owen meant to resist arrest, and his brown fingers in the losed quickly around the stock of his revolver, d, anfresolved to fall or stand beside his ‘pard.” at di-Then he saw how Jack had abandoned the vain ' n our hope of resistance—and his resolve was prompt- neyerly taken, He sprung swiftly before Happy valleyack, and drawing his revolvers, dropped them reant pon the ground at Colonel Markham’s feet. Travel) *‘ You fellers is on the wrong trail,” he began, Just tpeaking slowly and with a peculiar doggedness e one that was impressive in itself. ‘‘ enever killed ptain that man—he couldn’t do it—tain’t ia him. Ef vard, you want to know who did it, ’m the man— same 1 sw’ar by the Etarnal that I shot Cap'n Stone !” sight) A pair of strong hands were placed upon his ‘him ‘shoulders, and turning his head, he met tia gaze »ver- of Happy Jack—a look that seemed to reach his fell, very heart, a look full of strong affection, yet ene- hanguang and quizzical. Then) ‘* You mean well, old man, but it won’t work. The bullet will not fit vour pistol, and it will fit mine. I thank you all the same, but the best thing you can do for me is to wait—and let matters take their course. [ask it, for the sake of old times, pard,” and he gently pushed Bill to one side, eesti “Tam your prisoner, colo- nel; only—there is one person here who can clear me, if he will. I mean the man lying yon- der,” and he pointed toward Ben Watson, be- eank sked just |side whom knelt a little fat man, the surgeon der |of the fort, and who at that moment hastily th “A paper—directed to you, sir,” he said, in na richtig to Colonel Markham’s glance, “ He had was . With a changing countenance Colonel Mark- ham read the message—the same whieh Happy el's Jack had written while the prisoner of Baby his Tom. Strange as it may sound, he had almost nly _ forgotten the unexplained absence of his daugh- | ter, in the discovery of the murdered man and mur | the hasty investigation which followed. Now » he turned to Happy Jack, and asked: ni a “You wrote this? What does it all mean?” The young scout gave a hasty explanation, hi sn words creating no aittle exotternont enon oe ng auditors. Brief as had been her residence at __ Fort Western, her grace, her beauty and spirits, th » but above all, her kind heart and ready hand ij? | had made her the idol of the boys in blue. But til | of them all, no one listened more intently than ux | Ben Watson, and as he learned how utterly he and his comrades had been duped by the scout, x he mentally vowed a bitter vengeance agains re | the man, even though in carrying it out, he ~ | should find it necessary to sacrifice his own life, % | And unwilling to lose one moment's time, he ot gave vent to a hollow groan, contorting his face as though in mortal agony. n “Tm a-dyin’, an’ none 0’ you won't help me!” » | he gasped, as he saw that he had attracted at- | tention, ‘Do somethin’ to stop this awful fire ,, | inside o’ me!—pears like Pm in hell a’ready!” } | _ With a warning glance at the colonel, Dr, « Hurlbutt nodded toward the wounded wretch, face preternaturally grave. N ‘ “Thave done all I can for you, without in- struments. There may be a hope for your life ; oes ire gc rest. pines - rien pe “ier you. ‘ou confess it ma aa better," he said, woberiy, ; A _ _ | “I cain’t—not while he’s lookin’ at me,” gasp- ed the decoy, casting a swift glance toward bce vo ag jig spent i veay when his AW 5 1s on me, I cain’t do or say nothin but what he is willin’ I should. Take him awa: an Til tine ee ee Ge a if ‘a. oe ined Liv eatin aes ; y doctor . looked mu ‘1 " ‘ is e ground, f “was a terribl and new experience one ie ibebaehad be felt, so helpless—go | t phim. His eyes. and fitful The 9 IES PIGS TEP RIPS ons =—_ SS = for Watson’s wound, though severe, was by no means mortal. Yet, deeming it advisable to leatn the truth, by all means, he withdrew the colonel to one side and made hini understand his plan, Markham nodded, and then motioned for the men to ‘fall back, asking the two scouts | to accompany him for a moment. Drawing them beyond ear-shot, he improved the oppor- tunity in learning what had occurred since the interrupted rabbit-chase. : Meanwhile, Ben Watson was pouring forth his confession to the startled and scandalized surgeon. The decoy was nothing if not dra- matic. With a better education he would have made a superb sensational noyelist—and better than most, his stories, though impromptu, in this case, hung well together—there were no ragged ends, no useless threads—just enough and nothing cut to waste. He stated that himself and Happy Jack were old friends, and had been engaged in more than one pretty piece of work in the years gone by, though for some time they had been working different leads. They had met that night in the valley, by accident, but while Miss Markham was sleeping, Happy Jack had revealed a bold plan by which a large sum of money might be made, without much risk. The lady was to be held for ransom. ‘The preliminaries were car- ried out faithfully, the scout being treated as a prisoner while betore Miss Markham. But there was a plot within a plot. The two—himself and Happy Jack—had arranged to secure the whole sum demanded as ransom for themselves. Wat- son was to carry the letter to the fort, where it was expected that the colonel would promptl act upon the information therein contained, Meantime, the scout was to steal Miss Mark- ham away from the others, and place her in a secure hiding-place, Of course the other men would take the alarm and flee for safety, the cave would be found empty, and in time the fa- ther would be forced to pay the money to Wat- son, as demanded. _He was to make tracks at once, only setting up a signal which his partner would understand. Then Happy Jack was to carry Miss kham away to the rendezvous, where, unless she would agree to become his wife, she was to be used to extort still further | sums of money. , ““T see him airly this mornin’, an’ he told me the gal war all safe, but wouldn’t say whar he’d hid her. He said I must foller an” watch the fellers he was with, ’cause thar was aman—yen- der he lays, boss!—a man thar as could an’ would sp'ile the play ef he warn’t wiped out, I tried to beg off, but+I cain’t explain how, but | when he looks at me, I’m jist like a machine—I hain’t got the feelin’s of a man a-tall. Ive got to do jist what he says. It’s some devil’s medi- ps Oo a ca " *Magnetism,” ventured the surgeon, wipi his flushed brow. i “ Mebbe—I don’t know. Anyhow, I said I'd doit. I tried, but my cap bu’sted, an’ the feller shot me / then he kem out, an’ shot him from over yender. Thar! that’s the truth an’ noth- in’ but the truth, so help me—!” and the lying wretch sealed his fiendish fabrication with a solernn oath. Dr, Hurlbutt, never very acute, was thor- oughly and utterly deceiv: Not that he be- lieved Watson was dying, but that he really thought so, and the confession, though so horri- ble, was so adroitly told that it sounded far more like truth than truth itself. Drawing Colonel Markham aside, he hurried- ly detailed what Watson had confessed, deepen- ing the impression of its truth, though possibly unconsciously, by his method of speaking about it, From that moment Colonel Markham doubt- ed no longer. All feeling of pity, of regret, vanished before a stern resolve to punish to the utmost limit of his power, the wretch who had so basely plotted against the peace and happi- ness of his idolized child. the almost cursed erie for the leniency he had thus far shown Ina hoarse voice he ordered the soldiers to make ready—to cover the prisoner with their carbines. He was obeyed in silence, save an angry oath from the lips of Bill Comstock, who sprung before his friend as though the threat- ened volley should first through his breast, - eant Bowen.” added the officer, ‘ad- vance and bind the prisoner. If he attempts to scaly be any man interferes, stand aside and eave the rest to me! wake care—we kin jist lick the hull cS a He! hissed Comstock, still standing before Happy Jack, but then those hands put aside as the’ had once before, and the young scout uttered, cre “You can serve me better at least revenge me on out, too late to save, Comstock said not a word. There was a | strange lump in his throat that would not let ‘He stood aside and saw Jack extend his tho: Then he squatted down ie ae ine bavi Hing his fate it both hands, * "eo rtd the prisoner, Ho seemed the 4. Wa by waiting, ae berg that some one killed | ee a ealmest person within the little valley, and his voice sounded clear and self-contained as he ad dressed Colonel Markham: “May I ask why you have so suddenly—” *“* Ask nothing—but tell me, where have you hidden my daughter? Tell me, I say—!” “Tf she is not at the cave, I do not know—” ‘‘A lie! you have hidden her away—your partner in the foul plot has confessed every- thing. Tell me what I have asked, or by the living Eternal! I will tear you limb from limb!" raged the officer, fairly frantic. ‘Sir; you lie when you call mea liar. Until you have apologized for that lie, I will not speak another word,” uttered Happy Jack, in a low, stern voice, Dr. Hurlbutt now interposed, whispering a few words in the colonel’s ear. With a visible effort, Markham choked down Iris rage, though. if was several moments ere he could speak. He called forth the names of six men, and as the soldiers advanced, he continued: “You will remain here, and guard the prison- er. If he attempts to escape, or if any of his .confederates appear, your first duty will be to blow his brains out. Otherwise, await my re- turn. Sound boot and saddle, there! You, Comstock, will guide us to this cave—” “TN see you d—d fust—an’ then I won't!’ bluntly interrupted Bill. “Not one lick o’ work do you git out o’ me while you keep my thar, tied up—” “Do you wish me to place you under arrest sir?” ‘*You kin order—but thar’ll be twelve men under fust—an’ yowll be the fust to lead t way,” and as he spoke, Comstock drew and. cocked his reyolvers. ‘Treat him like a white. man, an’ ’ll do what ye like. Take his parole, ontie his han’s, aa’ we'll both try to make thig¢ ‘ere muddle out. Ef not—then you don’t pit nothin’ out o’ this chicken softer nor lead pills —you hear me /’”’ CHAPTER XXIII THE LOST TRAIL. THE scene was a peculiar one—a single mar apparently defying three-score. Squatting up- on the low bowider, with a cocked and half-lev- eled revolver in each hand, his dark, Indian-like face bearing a hard, dogged expression, his small, black eyes alone betraying any excite- ment, Bill Comstock awaited the answer to his bold defiance. Colonel Markham, though very an conscious of a feeling of admiration » was, or the seout’s blind, unreasoning devotion to his friend, - and hesitated to utter the word that could only precipitate the bloodshed which he wished te avoid, if possible. And yet, he did not see how he could overlook the pointed challenge of the. scout, without positive injury to his influence. and discipline. At this moment Happy Jack, his arms bound. passed over to where Comstock crouched, spoke rapidly, earnestly: ‘‘If you are really anxious to serve me, Bill, you must drop the trail you are on, and up the right one. You promised to hunt ou¥ the real murderer—how can you pe your word if you butt your brains out see a rock that you can pass quietly around’ Tf you want te serve me, find Miss Markham. Take up the trail for these men, do the best you know, and trust to time for the rest. Say you will do this. —there isno other man here who would have one eye for my interest, while working for hers. You will go—as a favor to me, pard?” (SP “Td goto h—1 itself, ef. you axed me, Jack— thar! Guss the dust!” and Bill winked his eyes, say, . °F you fellers ’spect me to I fer ye, —you hear ‘As he spoke, Comstock sprung up the rocks, not daring to tanta single glance backward, Colonel Markham hesitated for a moment, and there was a curious expression of mingled doubt. and regret upon his face ashe glanced at the fe ee ee ee = = pe a ae ee ee eee ee Sn ee Se Ae a an youd hes pick up your legs mighty lively prisoner, who had quietly returned to hisformer — position beside his guards. crimes? And yet- ing, why had he accused th cent? dud the proof of Mt ith an effort the colonel brushed aside these reflections, and bidding Sergeant Bowen remain. in command of the guards and their prisoner, he sprung into the saddle and rode ,rapidl around the rocky spur, then oping on [tiene Comstock, who had y taken uy the broken trail and was following it at a long, swift, loping stride. aay There was Beata Gees ae te eanat at coe f-omatock pauesd £6 the £96 oF the aspen Ted to the cavern in the hill eent which — ‘colonel led the way in entering the caver writhout opposition, But hero. tie. was com: 5 1 to pause until materials could be collected : co) fire, for none eould 1 1 3 k io i. « little difficulty after this, for the — tor starting a fire tal what pit- faluelny before het, shrouded by the ky Several torches were speedily constructed, ao Hythe ad th Gewese explored) Could this man be ©:
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20 A EN Ek Dn TT Though it was found untenanted by other than their own party, there were scattered areund ample evidences that the retreat had not long been abandoned. Comstock had not entered the cave, but busied himself looking for ‘‘ sign,” not without success. He found where the outlaws had kept their horses, and found, too, where Simoom and the little chestnut mare, which Kate Markham had ridden, had been tethered. He followed their trail back to the front of the cave, and when Colonel Markham returned, he pointed cut two small footprints upon a bit of moist ground. “Them was made by your daughter. The man with those big boots on, lifted her onto her eritter—the same mar’ which she rid that day back yender. Does that look like my pard stole her away las’ night? An’ he with us as airly as midnight?” ‘“* You think, then, that that fellow lied? That my ehild is still with this party?’ asked the colo- nel, **T know he lied—an’ if he lied in one thing, why not in the hull? Jack never had no more to do with killin’ Cap’ Stone then yow did—not a durned bit!” ‘*T wish I could believe it—but the proof! the pvidence is so strong—” “Took here, boss. Ikin prove he was with us steady from midnight, last night. Now call put any one o’ your men as knows anythin’ about traflin’. x him what time them tracks was made, afore dew-fall or a’ter dew-fall. I kin rove that the dew fell jest afore day fa’rly roke—come down most like a rain. ow that cuss back apse said my pard kerried off the afore he j’ined us, full twenty mile from ere, Putt two an’ two together; that’s all I ax,” Colonel Markham said nothing, though Bill saw that his arguments were not lost, and he once more took up the trail, following it steadily and without a break until reaching the point where the outlaws had separated. A brief scrutiny showed him that Simoom and the chestnut mare had not company, and that fact decided him which trail to follow. Five minutes later he halted, and at his signal, Colonel Markham advanced. Comstock pointed to where the visible trail ended, then several threads of woolen stuff scattered around. “Tho jig’s up, boss. The varmint’s putt blanket-shoes on the critters. Nothin’ shorter’n a four-legged hound could foller ’em now,” quietly said the scout. “Tt must—it shall be followed!” cried the father, half-frantic with fear and suspense. “Them’s big words—easier to say than to live up to,” was the deliberate response. ‘It mought be did, say a man crawled on his two knees an’ nosed his way, 80 tos —ef he had ah 0’ daylight an’ nothin’ else hendered, But look— the sun is down, an’ wuss: you see them clouds? We'll have a rain afore day, sure as shootin’. You kin guess how much trail that'll leave.” A bitter groan burst from Markham’s lips as he read the truth of the scout’s words. Fate seemed against him in every shape. “Find my child—find her, and you shall have all you ask. Iwill give you a thousand dollars—” “Td do it ef I could—not fer your money, though, but ’cause he axedme to, Ef thar was a show, I’d stick to it, but thar hain’t. Thar’s only two things you kin do. Send your men out to hunt the hills through; or pay the money as that bit o’ paper told ye. Onless—mebbe you could wring the truth out o’ that wounded cuss, He must know whar the rest was boun’ fer, Putt him in my han’s—let me hey my own way, an’ I'll squeeze the hull truth out o’ him ef man kin do it!” The sun had set. The black, threatenin xlouds Wererapidly overspreading the sky, an there was not the least ibility of finding the trail that evening. Reluctantly enough Colonel Markham gave the order to retrace their steps. ‘Comstock rode beside him, two of the soldiers “doubling up” for the occasion; and the scout earnestly urged the case of his friend. The colo- nel seemed impressed, but finally said: “He has been accused of murder—he must stand his trial. Itshall bea fulland impartial one, and if he can prove his innocence no man will be more plesees thanl. But—if heis found guilty, though he were my own son, he should suffer the full penalty! I can listen to nothing more, though I honor your fidelity to your 7 ” By the time they reached the little valley where Captain Stone had met his death, the darkness iad become intense, and Colonel Markham pave orders for the company to go into camp fo eurely tied, though feed there was none. Several fires were kindled, and genta oe around these, the soldiers munched their dry rations at their ease. Comstock gained the colonel’s permission to keep Happy Jack eom- pany, on pledging his honor not to aid the pris- soner in any manner to escape. ‘ The two friends conve in whispers, eager end seemingly on Bill’s part, while r the night. ~The horses were se- |' - Dime Library. Happy Jack, though his voice was peculiarly. soft and even affectionate, appeared to be steadily refusing to grant Comstock’s request. The guards remained where they could see ev- ery motion, by the red glare of the fires, but not so near as to interfere with the privacy of the conversation. As the evening wore on, the wounded man, Ben Watson, apparently grew worse. His head rolled uneasily from side to side, and he began to rave—uttering broken sentences, giving vague hints of a dark and troubled past, utter- ing words that caused little Doctor Hurlbutt’s eyes to protrude with genuine horror, used as he was to such scenes. ‘“*T shouldn’t wonder if the wretch—why, just think!” he spluttered, addressing the colonel, while inspecting his pocket-case fer a soporific. ‘1? what the fellow says is true, he’s murdered his own father and mother—and the rest of the family, for all I can say!” It was with difficulty that he administered the drug, and the greater portion of it was spilled, but the portion swallowed by the pa- tient seemed sufficient, The ravings gradually grew less frequent, the restless head became quiet, and an hour later the doctor pronounced atson asleep, though greatly exhausted, ‘*T fear he'll never be able to bear transporta- tion to the post, and yet—I can hardly under- stand it! The wound should not be so danger- ous. It has cut no important artery, it has missed all vital organs—unless it has taken a diagonal course, from striking a bone. If I only had my tools—” ut no one listened to the worthy if prosy littke doctor’s words. Colonel Markham was too deeply concerned about his child, the men were too weary and sleepy. Four men were placed on guard, to be relieved at stated inter- vals, and then, seeking such shelter among the rocks as they could from the driving wind and threatening rain, the remainder composed them- selves to sleep. For some time Happy Jack and Comstock conversed over the mysterious events of the past day, striving in vain to see their way through the cloud that enveloped them, but their fatigue and broken rest asserted their claims, and side by side they lay down and in a few moments more were sleeping as soundly as though trouble and danger were not. The storm held off until past midnight; then the low rumbling of thunder broke the silence, and quick flashes of lightning pierced the black- ness. A huge drop of rain, cold as ice-water struck upon the neck of the rd, and arouse: his drooping senses. A vivid flash of lightning rendered all around distinct as day—and in that, instant the sentinel caught a glimpse of a hu- man figure stealing silently away. With a sharp cry he raised his carbine and fired, Instantly the camp was aroused, and as he s ste to his feet, Colonel Markham shouted aloud; “Look to the prisoners—shoot the first one that attempts to escape!” But he was too late. The mischief was done! CHAPTER XXIV. BLACK HOLLOW. STRAIGHT ahead rode Baby Tom, a broad smile upon his face, and a soft chuckle playin, up and down in his big throat, as he Fecatlod how adroitly he had “played” his captive. He looked little like a a save for his free and easy style of dress. A little soap and water, a little judicious trimming of the thick, curling beard and hair, would have discovered a comely if not handsome face, by nature filled full of ood-humor and blunt honesty—and weakness. ‘ime was when Thomas Bascom might have been pointed out as a model farmer, neighbor and husband; but whisky and cards changed all this, until now he was outlawed for more than one trangression of the law, was driven to live by the strong hand, to sleep beneath the black shadow of a dangling rope: Choking down her emotions, Kate Markham pret tk watched the movements of the party she had discovered, and once when Baby Tom turned his head away, she ventured to wave her hand toward them, hoping against hope that they would understand her appeal. Then, as if by magic, the horsemen vanished as utterly as though the earth beneath their feet had opened and swallowed them up, The succeeding ten minutes were full of pain- ful suspense to Kate, for Baby Tom, though clearly unsuspecting the vicinity tou be occupied by other than himself and captive, had changed his course until heading almost directly for the spot where the strangers had disappeared. And her heart gave a wild bound as the four horse- men suddenly spurred into view, uttering loud cries as they dashed forward. Baby Tom wrenched both horses to a stand- still as though about to seek safety in flight, but a single glance showed him the truth, and with a glad cheer he rode forward to meet his friends, for these»wvere the men whose absence was spoken of b: Bascom while freeing Happy Jack. / In a few hasty words Baby Tom gave them a synopsis of all that had tr: and their owing the reasous for seeking a new lair. a value of cafition, the men dismounted and cat——*—— fully muffled the hoofs of their horses li turned to bear the giant company to Black Hi en low. ithe wors The time thus consumed was of great ben@!ytter su: to’Kate, Her hopes had soared so high, thom I | reality had proved so bitterly disappointiN,) » and that without those few minutes for regainil,.+ ferce her composure, she must have given way entifki you a ly. As it was, the remainder of her long riQjng you, was little better than a blank. She was ¢ds{ gm v scious of rapid, steady motion, but that was aartha, a The day was fully two-thirds spent when thy as her little cavalcade came to a halt beside a narropy vou n but swift and turbulent stream that seemed}. your he find birth beneath a gloomy, frowning mass \egsons f: rocks and shrubbery, above which, almost ey only pendicular, without break or passago, towerjoney as the white face of a mountain. Sut he—1 “We're ’most to home, miss,” uttered Baboy were Tom, as he dismounted and litted Kate from hiyh! whe saddle, ‘‘Thar’s a nasty bit to cross, yit, be?’ and you kin trust me to take you through all saf ‘Thon Ondly—it’s fer your own good; you'd git skegnoney f1 ed an’ most likely pitch us both into the drink4js posse: an’ I reckon a feller could go clean through jars, we thrashin’-machine an’ come out in better fl For s¢ than he would through them rocks!” ined pi Kate instinctively shrunk back as she saw hild the d: propose to blindfold her eyes, but at the tougytlaws of his brawny hand she saw the folly of attemplo the tr ing resistance, and ively submitted to he “1 oy fate. Bidding his followers look after the ani eeping mals, Baby Tom raised the maiden in his armtagnsom and passed up the stream, pressing the leafinto a sereen as though about to attempt to scale thyorse ti precipitous rocks. But instead, before hin “ But yawned a black opening. through which tht «Noy swift waters rushed with a hollow, rumbiinfoice i: roar. This opening somewhat resembled thtvater, mouth of a huge river. The roof andsides werheard t of solid rock. Close to the edge of the water is way a narrow ledge, damp with spray and slimé¢himsel! Along this precarious trail, shrouded in alm inky blackness, Baby Tom moved slowly, ing his way foot by foot, sore that a sing] misstep, the mieten slip, would precipita’ them both into the swirling waters to an almo certain death among the many sunken r knov and bowlders. And, stout though his nervesthe tu were, the giant gave a long breath of relief ur" W! the faint glimmer of daylight ahead gre los stronger and he emorged into a long, narrow Now- valley. i on Very appropriately had it been christened ness!” Black Hollow, for a more gloomy place could lation scarcely have been found out in the open air, ‘“W The narrow valley was almost completely roof? are a ed in with the black and somber pines and ourr that shot out from either side of the divid mountain. Only when the sun was directly They “eTh ad overhead could its yellow light penetrate th secrets of the hidden valley. e day was twi net the night utter blackness, by Tom pressed through the dense shrub bery until he reached a small clearing in which stood several underbrush huts. Beside one of these he paused, and removing the banda from Kate’s eyes bade her enter. In silenceshe ‘ obeyed, and as the brush-wattled door was closed behind her she sunk wearily upon the seer littered floor, her spirit utterly broken y anxiety and fatigue. A few moments later af she lay sleeping heavily. When she awoke there was a tiny fire glowing in the center of the hut, and beside it crouchea Martha Bascom, who raised her head with ¢ us wan smile as Kate started from her slumbers. ih “Not a word!” cautiously uttered the wo ne man, with a swift glance toward the door, 4dr “ Listen, but do not speak. First,you musteat fa’ this bread and meat—I cooked it for you my- self, while you were sleeping. Iwishthere was elt some tea or coffee, for you will need all your si strength; but this and water must serve. Eat so —then I will tell you all.” ) to Kate’s sleep had served one good purpose, 8¢ since it restored her appetite, and after the firs} cn taste she ate as though she had been starved re for days. Martha Bascom watched her in si- lence, but with an approving light in her eye, fi pressing bit after bit upon Kate until the maid- fl en could eat no more. ha arose and opening the door glan a swiftly around her. veral fires were burni Y within the little clearing, yet their light wee s barely sufficient to reach the thick wall of 3 vines and shrubbery beyond. ‘Yet, far above, i a thin line of sky was visible, and Kate knew " that it was not yet night in the outer world. ‘ Around the were lying a dozen or more men, some talking and smoking, others sleeping. Satisfied that were there, Martha Bascom closed the door and drew Kate to the center of the hut, They sat down close beside the dying fire, and spoke in low, guarded whispers. “Thave learned much since we parted,” be- Martha, ‘‘more than enough to break my eart, had I any left. It was turned to stone long ago, and I am glad now. Hush! listen, but do not speak. There are wicked devils around us, and their ears are long and sharp. I can see that you doubt me—you think me crazy, as others have—but I’m not; the worse for me} There—enough of that! It is of you we must think, You arein here—great danger. — :
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— dad ‘Bleck fac’ Your life—that is safe, perhaps, but worse. 1 are in the presence of lawless men—and he ‘the worst. God pity me! that I should live >» high a utter such words about my husband—he for pointe m I gave all—home, parents, my very aay nial!” and the woman pressed both hands al- vay onthe fiercely upon her forehead. Sle a. fou are ill—do not speak any more since it Recess e@ins you,” said Kate, gently. at was 1am well—I will not give way again,” said “when tLattha, and indeed me cupnere: another per- a narropt 4s her will asserted itself. ‘TI must speak, seem nd r you must know the danger that threatens, aa °cr your heart may fail you. ibe a asons for capturing you, and I believe that , towal’y only intended to extort a large sum of ’ €Thoney as the price of your freedom—at Jirst. red B ut he—my husband—has eyes, and he saw that f “a%ou-were very beautiful. It is hard to say— STONE hiah! what am I that the truth should frighten , a bhe?” and the woman laughed, low but bitterly. it Sat “Thomas Bascom has resolved to extort this ap skecnoney from your father, and still keep you in " rinktis possession. Hist! if your cry reaches their rough lars, we are lost!” etter fl For several minutes the two women main- : _;. mined perfect silence, then the elder one open- Saw hitd the door to reconnoiter, All was quiet. The he em th seemed unsuspicious, and she returned eat bene attemplo the trembling maiden d to he «jy overhear é the ; : the'aat Hs nem talking while you were You are not to be set free when the fa Tentsom money is paid, but are to be frightened 16 Jeatnto a marriage with him, by threats of still sa on orse treatment—” ‘* But—you are his wife—” ; **Now—but I would not be, then. A single oice is easily hushed—a simple push into the ater, and the rocks would do therest. I over- eard them talking it all over. If I stand in ere is way I must goto the wall. He saidas much slimé@pj iE And that is why I am here, It mat- almosters little what becomes of me—better dead than J, iving, perhaps. But still there is enough of -singléhe woman left alive in me to fight against pie leaving him to be happy with another woman. almostt can save you, and I will, if you will trust me. | rockst know this place well, Ican lead you through nervesthe tunnel, and once outside we can easily find lief haat way to your friends, But there is no time gre lose. We must escape to-night, if at all. arrow Now—one word. Will oe go with me?” *“Yes—and may God bless you for your kind- stened ness!” sobbed Kate, terrified at the black reve- could lation. : n air, “We have only to wait, then, until the men ‘oof are asleep. I have secured enough food for our a journey, and have weapons, if we are forced to vided use them. Now lie down—pretend to sleep. ectly They may suspect something, and come to spy e tha upon us.” stwiy Those were long and weary hours that passed before Martha Bascom deemed it prudent to venture forth upon their truly hazardous un- dertaking, but all seemed well when, hand-in- 1e of hand they ventured forth from the hut. The dage darkness was intense savé close around the dy- ing camp-fires, but as if guided by instinct Mar- tha Bascom led the way toward the river, the bank of which was gained without interruption. | Apparently the outlaws considered themselves ater ; te without the precaution cf keeping guard. ‘We must cross the river here,” whispered rin Martha Bascom. ‘There is no path along the hea tunnel upon this side. The water is not ¢ eep, hé just here, though very swift. We can pass 8. age easily, if you are only cool and steady- wo nerved. Keep close to me—hold fast to my or, and there is no danger, Remember what eat fate you are leaving behind!” ay- Kate made no reply, but did as directed. The vas elder woman boldly entered the water and ur slowly pressed forward, though the current ran ‘at so swiftly that it tested their strength severel _ toavoid being swept from their feet. Thoug! oa, so narrow, it was a long and toilsome task, this rs¥_ | crossing, and Martha Bascom uttered a sigh of ed | relief as she drew near to the other shore. s+ __ At that moment a sharp challenge rung forth @, | from directly in front—and then a blinding d- flash filled their eyes. A wild, pesuing shriek rung in Kate’s ears, Z and she felt the dress torn from her grasp. She recled—her feet slipped upon a slimy rock—the ne swift current whirled her from her footing, and ot with a scream of terror, she felt herself swept »y into deeper waters and hurled along with fright- v fol. velocity Bough wt inky blackness. 74 choking, gurgling cry—then came a é _ Blowin waa a blank! — , CHAPTER XXV. x ta . PLOTTING AND PLANNING. ; - Stowiy and wearily the days and nights crept along to the four occupants sheltered within the little cavity in the Tock wall over- loo the oval valley within which the White ad placed his braves in ambush, The | long and hard gallop from Crooked Valley had { greatly aggravated” the, wounds of Kenekuk, © young warrior, and for many a weary hour Eaton, ie sister, crouched bestia him, doing brave battle with death with the noanty appli a Sreee sh hand, seeming unconscious 0 tigue, only consenting to close her eyes wh ere 4 -eame a change for the better, when her skill a Sioux — PE ee Sor Ee (ou were told their | £1 would not die upon his first war-path. It was the third day after the White Sioux had left them to ride on to the aid of his people. Throughout that day the sun had beaten down hotly upon the rocks, and the atmosphere with- in the rocky den was almost stifling. Eunora had moved her patient close to the entrance, and now sat beside aus The two braves were sleeping soundly beyond. ee, ister,” “and Kenekuk would have lifted his head only for the little brown hand that gently pressed him back. ‘TI can hear the trampling of horses—our father is returning!” Eunora made no reply in words, but carefully parting the leafy screen, she peered eagerly up the valley. The sound of hoof-strokes upon the flinty ground grew clearer and more distinct— then a small cavalcade rounded the turn and rode into full view. No Indians were they—one glance told the dusky maiden so much, But why did her eyes dilate—her lips part and turn pale? What caused that sharp, painful moan? Kenekuk looked at her paling face in won- —er % unable to stand alone, much less aid another he could not attempt to dissuade his sister fron: the resolve she had taken. Only for a few minutes did Eunora remain quiescent. Then she awoke Leapah, and bri bade him transform her face as thoroughly as paint and pigments would doit. In silence he obeyed, not even allowing his stolid features te express the curiosity he undoubtedly felt: In a few moments his work was done. en Eunora. | ruthlessly toro off the rich ornaments from her dress, cutting and soiling the soft fawn-skin until it hung around her in ugly rags. Mois- tening her hands, she rubbed black paint and dirt upon her hair until its rare glory was ob- scured, Then, bidding the two braves keep close watch and ward, she silently pressed her lips to the forehead of her brother and noiselesse- ly stole down the rocky wall. She passed down the valley, pausing at the entrance and gazing steadily at the fort. It lay silent and grim—seemingly devoid of life. But she knew that it contained her heart, and with out faltering she advanced toward the build der—then painfully lifted his head until he too | ing. ° could look out upon the valley and its occu- pants. He saw seven horsemen trotting steadi- y through the valley. He saw that six were well armed—but the seventh? Instead of bear- ing weapons, this man’s hands were bound be- hind his back—a stout rope led from ankle to ankle beneath the horse’s belly. A prisoner— yet the proudest, kingliest man among them all! Tall and erect, his proud head rising its own hight above those of the men who led him cap- tive. And a lcw exclamation parted Kene- kuk’s lips as he recognized the man who had so adroitly baffled the plans of the White Sioux on the day of the festival. As though the exclamation was loud enough to reach his ears, one of the six men cast a quick, piercing | gore upward as his mustang bore him by. Instinctively the young brave drew back, but his hand was powerless to move Eunora. As though fascinated, her eyes never withdrew until the escort and their’ prisoner disappeared near the mouth of the pass. “You saw him?’ asked Kenekuk, as the maiden bowed her head upon her hands. ‘‘ The man who looked up as they rode past? He is a great brave! e should be a child of the Sioux.” ‘“‘T saw him not, brother,” and Eunora lifted her head, a strange fire in her wonderful eyes. ““T saw but the brave whose hands were tied; and as I saw that, my mind went back to the black moon when the spotted death stole into the lodges of our people, to the day when we were at war with the pale-faces, and there was none among our people to send for the great medicine that alone could cure them—none but Eunora. Sbe alone among the talk the white man’s tongue, an brave would only be to send him to his death. So the great chief, our father, bade her go, and | while I S pause until | do it,” her horse fell dead. She ran on, carrying the | stock Eunora obeyed, She rode without ‘old that was to buy back the lives of her people. he bought the medicine—and_ a stout bear her home, big lodge, five pale-faces met her. away their brains. “They spoke black words to Eunora, and | him when she sought to pass them by, they dragged her from her horse, odst one of the plan horse to | won't take no But as she rode away from the | us the sli r heir blood | s’arched a was hot with the fire-water that had stolen | awa At nearly the same moment a single mat emerged from the big gate, and strode forward as though to meet her, Though her heart throb. bed high, Eunora did not hesitate. A deep glow filled her eyes as she recognized the man. It was Bill Comstock, the scout, and she knew that he was coming to meet her. She paused. but the eager look apee the scout’s face c' nged to one of doubt and disappointment as he drew near, “ Wa-al I ber-durned!” and he stared in open- mouthed astonishment. ‘'’Pears like the hull creation is turned outside in! I came to find a angel, an’ she’s turned—” p : “Then Double-eye is not quite blind? He can see the face of a friend when it comes be- fore him?” “T saw you back yender—that’s what I came out alone fer. But it takes two good looks to see you now!” “The Indian girl can see better, Her eyve can look back and see two men who were friends and brothers. And to-day she saw the same men, one bound with stout cords, the other riding by him with rifle and pistol, ready to take his life—” “Ef you was a man, I’d dreen your heart dry fer them words,” interrupted Comstock, his eyes gleaming, bis voice husky with emo- tion. ‘‘Even a squawcain’t say ’em twice— mind that /” a? ‘He was bound, you were free. There wer but five others. Yet the man youcalled brother was carried to the fort, and the trail was as big at the end as at the beginning.” “Tt wouldn’t ’a’ bin, only he swore me to k juaws could | the ce—he said he’d cuss me ef Item to send a | to hag him b free. What could I do?, A dozen give him the chaince to run fer life kept them back—but he wouldn't and in as few words as possible Com- told Eunora exactly how the case “Thar’s oar one chaince fer him—sence hq help fromme., That varmint giv' , in the big rain. We looked an’ one day, but the trail was washed , an’ we couldn’t find him, He knows the , an’ ef I could find him ef I hed to skin him alive, But if I go off to s'arch fer him, who'll look over my ¢ times I trut r | Hehain’t no friends thar—none but me de- felt the sharp point of her knife bite deep into | jectedly added Bill, his black heart, Eunora struggled, but death and worse than death would have been hers, only the Great Spirit sent her aid. Like an angel of light another white face rode up—he struck swift and sure, and Eunora was free, Eunora thanked him—her words came hot from “Tell me what this man is like, an _- above ground, I will have him found; We said Kunora, Comstock gave a careful description off ms. Watson. “He shall be found. You must make all the her heart, ont ke oh soft words to her and | delay you can. If you can talk with Sky-eyes, bound up her while his friend stood b nehinge He caught the runaway horse, ay offered to bid him not despair, Say that true friends are working for him. If one plan fails, another ride with her, but she remembered | must succeed. Tell him from me that he must her people and his people were at war, and | live to prove his innocence and punish his foes. thanked him. Say that none but cowards sit down ony hy co’ “From that day to this, my brother, his face | die th ed death of a dog. has been in my heart—but never, until’ now, did a, ig esa) “i: ts And now—his | of his face meet my pangry eyes. life is in danger—for that was he that rode be- fore us, a prisoner!” L “We are but four—one a squaw, one a le! what can we do? | is life for the brave pale-face, if that woul him free.” “He saved Eunora—she will save him, or ie,” sanity uttered the maiden, her big eyes | beknown to me, - glowing. “It our father was here—bitterly as he hates | yender, but I pulled this the white faces, he would dare anything the debt which his child owes this yellow- onic ae. may come in time—Leapah can go to ag mee “The White Sioux is might over the big fort out yonder be some other way, and Eunora find it, die at his side.” ae Kenekuk wistfully at the sister, but did not speak. white fath er and half-white mother, they had been reared among Indians, and had imbibed many of their ns ptt su peculiar principles o: honor, | sremmeahonal te ihe ae ail ’ ha he oa oe bine agre ol *, - a\ gry " , 5 7 ’ P P eT ee RT ORT er a a ee 5 tae eri shade of sorrow passed Kenekuk would oe that was not all tases of the peril of his friend, set | ashe saw how wholl hough children of & | that, If—if tions and | as ‘helpless, oa see him—do you think there is any chance at?’ Eunora added, Ghee ogra Ns tee eyes. A Me I'm afeard not,” was the slow reply, and a over the scout’s face the maiden’s heart was y Jack, ‘The old man give ers—indeed he told them, un- that they mustn’t even let me see the lad alone! That’s what they told me in occupied by Hap mi sity ahi A to) Saati Sarrards, Mebiigc my password, an’ never once open eir heads sist it, But with you—I don’t know. You *Bout that fel- The maiden nodded impatiently. — ~ “Tf alive, he will be handed overto you. But face of his | —if the worst comes, we must be repared f xo friend is doomed to dio beg m to ask tobe shot. If that is try you can to have the—the execution removed far as possible from the fort. If you can succeed in that, there is hope even at the side . x I'd wring it out 0’ . : d th a Det tapping the butt — to pay of his revolver, ‘‘an’ the kin come to-morrow. Well, I'll do what I kin, > — , but can he ride | but don’t count too much on’t. No; there must | ler—you’ll hev him hunted up?”
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ee ee es = of the grave. Eunorais but a squaw—but her voice is powerful enough to insure him life, there.” ‘*Youmeana eharge—Injuns—” eagerly be- gan Bill. “Tf you know nothing, you cannot be charged with plotting against your people. Do what I say, and all will be well. Go, now; but come to the valley to-morrow. Tell your brother that the Indian girl has not forgotten— that his kindness is here—in my heart!” Then, as though afraid to trust her tongue further, Eunora turned and glided through the twilight back to the valley. ‘ CHAPTER XXVI. AWAITING THE VERDICT. However long to others, these days were all too short to Colonel Markham, though each hour was one of bitter disappointment, of never ceasing anxiety, of wearing suspense that left its mark in the deepening lines of care that seamed the soldier’s ruddy face and left deep hollows around his blgod-shot eyes. From the first gleam of dawn until the shadows of night he was in the saddle and ranging far and wide among the rocky wastes, searching for some sign that might guide him to the spot where his idolized child was held in bondage; but all was in vain. Since that stormy night—on which, as Comstock told Eunora, the wounded outlaw, Ben Watson, had escaped, after so adroitly feigning deathly illness—all trace of the fugi- tives was lost. Day after day the scouts quar- tered through the wilds, urged on by treble wages and the promise of a heavy reward in vase of success. Fey did all that man conld, but even their skill was useless. And so, on the fifth night, they respectfully told the colo- nel as much. He heard them in silence, for he knew that their words were true, and after a few mo- | ments of bitter silence, he asked his men what, in their opinion, would be the wisest course for him to pursue. In answer Lieutenant Blake spoke, and to the point, “They can have but one hope in holding Miss Markham in captivity—and that is money. If } you agree to pay the demanded ransom, and | promise the rascals immunity, I feel sure that they will restore the lady, safe and uninjured.” “But how can we send them word? Ii we'} knew where, I would have carried my answer | long ago.” ** There is one we Post notices in a dozen yicuous places—among. them the cave in ked Valley—s: g that you accept their } terms, and request eeting. Sooner or later they will find them give them a chance fear of discov your place.” leftenant spea ght the Dull's-eye, * > said J 1 Mc! lof t nts | since Comstock 1 Low t. “You'll fetch * i ui ‘ promises the va under you tetch em. : kin discharge mean’ the bi i far an’ ef we don’t fetch in béth the money an’ , 2 eat my hat!” ugh the Colonel Markham w yr no shorter way out | tting Blakes | y written | at the | re let- | Ints nand Vv * oom nigh ighed | and poster cavern being And i hearted, the parby 6 fort, enterin 4 rest below the wi $id Comstox Happy Jack, who in silence. < “T caught som thin’ “bout a court-martial,” said Comstock, slowly: “*But that’s fool-talk, sence you've ne- ver bin sworein. They cain’t do no more then turn you over to the law, kin they?” “Law is a dead letter here, pard,” r Happy Jack, with a half-lan any trial, it would rather trust my life to that, than a regu ters. words as J came ‘long—some- lied i'm goin’ out to'see ef the Injun girl hes hearn anythin’ yet, Ef not, we've got to think up some other place.” Bill left the fort and met Eunora near the mouth of the valley, but there was no news. Leapah had not yet returned. Fora full hour the tio consulted, and finally came toa decision as to what their course should be in case the worst befell. They parted, and Comstock, full of a new hope, hastened back to the fort and de- manded rather than asked an interview with Colonel Markham. He was admitted, after a brief delay. The colonel apparently had been holding a council with his officers, “Your friend will be tried for murder, by court-martial, to-morrow,” said the colonel, an- swering the scout’s look, rather than his saluta- tion. ‘I tell you this that you may carry him word. | He may need time to arrange his de- gh. must be by a military court. I | face w sion his | | admitted at + | excluded, The tr bh: “If there is} T only hope they will run it through | “Ef the truth was knewed, he wouldn’t need a minute, colonel. The man’s a low-down fool as could even dream of my pard’s shootin’ a man from ahind, inemy or no inemy. Ef you | hedn’t let that pizen snake slip—” “T am suffering for that more deeply than ree can, Bill. I would give my right hand to ave him here, this minute!” “Putt off this trial, then, an’ give me a chaince to find him,” eagerly cried the scout. ‘Bf he’s atop o’ airth, Pll find an’ fetch him in. Jest give me a week—it’s all I ax—” ‘“* At ten o’clock to-morrow the court will sit. There has been a foul murder done, and the as- sassin must suffer. Ifthe prisoner is innocent, he will be cleared—if guilty, he shall die—that is sworn to.” ‘Colonel, ef you only knew who an’ what he is, you’d give him this one chaince. Ef I could only tell ye!—but he swore he’d cuss me with his dyin’ breath ef I should! Ef you only knowed! Mebbe he’d tell you ef you’d ax him. Won't youtry? "Tain’t often I ax a favor of anybody, but, colonel, Jack is dearer to me then life—I’d even go down on my knees to you, fer him. °*Tain’t so much fer you to do—jest go an’ ax him who he is—ax him who was his mother an’ father—stick to him ontel he tells you. Make him tell, or give me leave to tell what I know, an’ P'll sarve you, colonel, Pll be your dog day an’ night—!” The scout’s voice broke, and though he turned his face quickly aside, Colonel Markham saw that his bronzed cheek was wet with tears. ‘He saw this, and it broke down his opposition. Gently touching Comstock’s arm, he said; **T will make the attempt you ask—come.” Together they entered the guard-house, and in a few words the colonel made known the object of his visit. Happy Jack listened in silence, then produced a small, flat parcel from his bosom, wrapped in oiled silk amd securely sealed. “What you seek to know is written here. Take it—on one condition. If Il am found inno- cent at the court-murtial to-morrow, you pledge your honor to return the parcel to me, unopened. Tf guilty—keep the seals unbroken until after Dime Library. the sentence is executed—then you are at liber- | ty toread. Will you pledge me your honor on 5 a) ‘ ¥ | thi “Since this cone spring—” 4 “You hold the ex coldly interrupter weary, gentlemen. ght! Day dawned and the hour appointed for the trial arrived and passed. The pri was ar- ied before the court. But s witness was ime, and even Bill Comstock was : not of long durati ready heard all the you ask it, yes. And yet—how can rn Th your hand,” “Now—lI am prisoner and as the reade)” dence that could i is not necessary. The k in his own be submitted r he defied honored ak, Tain’t too Iate eyen now, 7 me the word, an’ I'll let him kn he door, ef they won't open! Let nw he must give you a chaince: fer God’s sake, pard—” be “Hush, Bill—you ask too. much,” said Happy Jack, gently... All you could say would make no difference if they have believed me guil It wonld look as though I Was trying to: out of the scrape like « ilty coward have sworn that you g ithe word. i! Jest give =I) bu’st in Say I may ty Li€ You until I oath, I uld not s u break. that tohannt you— at Bowen ent 5 diers. His hones re amd his eyés full of the compas- dare not utter. * They’ye found he didn’t do it—you’ve come to set him free?’ eagerly eried Bill, grasping Bowen’s hands and wringing them with an al- TY ed, folloy face wa ) most insane ardor. 1 ** T have orders to bring you before the court, Jack. By mighty! it’s the hardest duty Iever moet!” and the sergeant blew his nose fiercely. “I expected as much—and yet, God knows that I am innocent of this crime. Lead on, old man. I don’t blame you!” Comstock keptclose to the prisoner’s side, and aw tho sentinel attempted to keep him from en-" tering the court-room, one swift blow hurled him senseless to the ground, and Comstock en- tered the room, molested no further. Colonel Markham Jooked at him sternly, but he saw the fierce, almost insane glitter in the scout’s eyes, and really feeling for him, made no objection to his presence. “Prisoner,” he began, solemnly, ‘‘ You have been accused of willful murder.’ You have had a fair and impartial, if a little irregular, trial. We have earefully weighed the evidenceagainst | on duty, and se ? [never met you before last | | away from him?’ guick | Close upon | cious glitte | tion, spole: me tell him, | Oe statement, and, while giving you the bens t of many doubtful points, find that you, and you alone, are guilty of the death of Captain awrence Stone. You are now brought before us to have sentence passed upon you. Have you anything to offer as reason why judgment should be delayed?” ' “Only what I have already said—I am inno- cent, before God!” “You have been tried and found guilty of murder. The proof of this is so overwhelming that the decision is unanimous. The sentence of this court is that you shall suffer death in punishment for your crime; but in consideration of your past services, instead of hanging, you shall be shot to death, at sunset, to-morrow— and may God have mercy upon your soul!” CBAPTER XXXVII. THE HOUR OF DOOM. NEVER a muscle of Happy Jack’s sternly seb face changed as he listened to the solemnly pre« nounced sentence of death, but as the colonels voice died away, a shrill, peculiar hugh filles the little room, and Bill Comstoek glided fore ward, pausing beside the doomed prisoner, leaxs ing heavily upon the pine table, his black, burr+ ing eyes slowly passing from one to another f the five judges. “* You’ve did a mighty big day’s work, gentle- men—‘ive o’ ye to sw’ar away the life of a inno- cent feller-critter! I’m glad ye all voted one way—it’ll save the trouble o’ pickin’ an’ choos- in’ —” ‘*One word more, Comstock, and I place you in irons!” sternly cried Colonel Markham, “For my vake, pard, rein in,” hurriedly mut- tered Happy Jack, his stout hand closing upon Comstock’s shouider. ‘They'll shut you out from me, and you are the only friend I have, now. Choke down what you feel—apologize, if you can.” ‘“*T reckon this’ere thing’s driv’ me nigh about erazy, boss,” said Comstock, addressing Colonel Markham, ‘‘Mebbe I spoke too loud, jest now —you won't lay it up aginst him, colonel? I reckon he'd make a white man out o’ me, ef you'd only give him time—” ‘That will do. Seryeant. escort the prisoner back to the guard-house. VPlace'a dopbie guard » that no person whatever is al- lowed admittance to the prisoner without a per mit signed by me. You may go.” ‘“Cept me, boss—you won't try t shet me tock, id Mark ‘ * Youhave your orders, sergeant, hain, coldly. ‘Not a word, pard.” muttered the p ““T am ready, Bowen.” The file of soldiers closed around the doomed scout and escorted him |-house. r neeis ISONCE . her: 1 did not*foverlook these in Happy Jack's ear: < will make a fool « Fe , unless you ean make hin hear reason, friend. We have onr ‘orders, and muct carry them out, but I don’t to hurt Agu. “Tr what you can do with As the door, was reachc around, and, With a gest ’ himself, and 1, the prisoner tume4 re conynanding atten: me one word with my 0b share my impri 1 mean well, and 1t ttom of myheait® for standin You heard niy senter t I have never done aught to i ‘here is another who knows. this—try te find him, Bill, for my sake.” **T'm sech a durned fool I wouldn't know hin ef he war right under my nose—but Ll try, pard. Good-by! Ill be back here afore that time, an’ ef somethin’ don’t turn up) to Jet in daylight, they’s goin’ to be jest the liveliest lit- tle circus in these parts—;ou héar me J” Sergeant Bowen cut short the interview, and as Happy Jack hutin, ke briefiy gave the guard their orde en signed to Comstock to follow him. Passing beyond earshot of the ¢u- “Gentlemen, alloy friend, ince he c: Bill, old man, y from t! | rious soldiers, the two men conversed eagerly for several minutes, after which they warmly shook hands, and Comsteck, rifle in hand, led his horse through the side gate, mounted and galloped swiftly away. , Within his gloomy prison, Happy Jack sat pondering over the chain of events that had go swiftly led him to an almost certain death. Knowing his utter innocence of the crime for which he had been doomed to suffera shameful death, he wasunable to prove this, was ewen un- able to guess who might be the true criminal. That Captain Stone had been foully murdered, he could not for one moment doubt—but whose the hand which struck him down? Therein lay the mystery. He had heard no pistol-shot save his own and one other. their story, he had believed the two shots were fired by himself and the outlaw, Ben Watson. ° Could it be possibe that a third shot had been firedso simultaneously with the others that it had escaped his notice in the excitement? That ¢ tite ol Sis Sis Until the weapons told *
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fatal weapon? All was a black mystery, and thescout racked | his brain in vain for a plausible solution, until, with an impatient sigh, he flung aside the be- wildering tangle and forced his mind to busy f itself with other thoughts. This was not so dif- \ ficult as it may appear. As he closed his eyes a bright, Deantiful vision stood before him—the j image of the fair young woman whom he first q met at the feast given in honor of her birthday j ~—Kate Markham. And yet his thoughts were f far from pleasing. He knew that she was not j for him, even were he to escape the disgraceful ; doom which hung over his head. He knew that there was an impassable barrier between them— that they could never be nearer to each other than now. Then he forced himself to think of that other fair maiden—of the Indian girl who The Long Haired * Pards.’ en rn rare geiere me semana - | | to back me up. Maybo we can scare him into | postponing the hour.” Happy Jack nodded, and Comstock aceom- | panied the doctor, grasping at the faintest hope. / But as the hours crept by and Bill did not re- turn, the prisoner’s wonder grew into painful | anxiety, Could it be that there was a plot in working for his rescue? Or—and it seemed as though the last gleam of light was blotted out— was all this but a ruse to separate him from his last friend? a trick to draw Comstock where he could be placed under arrest without dis- turbanee, and thus insure his giving no trouble when the execution was taking place? Happy Jack arose and held out his hands as Lieutenant Blake entered at the head of a file | of soldiers, to lead him to the place of execu- | tion. In silence the handcuffs were applied, and the doomed man was led out from the silent fort. escape was shut off. From beyond the river came the uncertain gleam of torches being kin- dled. She heard Baby Tom plunge into the river, and lent strength by the emergency, she arose and glided across to the foot/of the steep, almost perpendicular mountain. Clutching vines and branches of the stunted shrubbery that vailed the hillside, she toiled on and u ward, thinking only of eluding the fiercely- cursing men below, though she knew that each foot of progress was won at the imminent peril of her life. \ She saw the blazing torches flitting to and fre, borne by fiercely-cursing men, and when one came nearer than the others, she lay still, afraid that the painful throbbing of her heart would. betray her presence; and then, as the torch ye- ceeded, she would draw herself up and on through the inky blackness, She saw the torches disap- q was working so earnestly for his salvation—of | He saw that all was in readiness for the tragic ear within the tunnel, and knew that this was ‘a Eunora, daughter of the White Sioux. Bill | act. The soldiers were drawn up in line. The ler one chance. With a strength and dexterity Comstock had told him of all she was doing—of | officers were standing together, a little apart. | born of the emergency, she clambered on, more what she had pledged her father to accomplish, | And behind them, his face white and sternly | than once escaping a fall that could have been if the worst came to worst. | Set, was Bill Comstock. A sudden sa: 9 nothing less than death, yet pressing on and ‘Why not?’ he muttered, unconsciously | seized upon Happy Jack, and he begged the | upward until her overtasked muscles refused to speaking his thoughts aloud. “Why should T | lieutenant to allow him one word with Colonel | bear her further, anda deathlike faintness crept die for a crime another committed? If I give | Markham, The request was granted, and paus- | over her. Strugglin resolutely against th 8, my consent the thing is done. Have these men | ing before the group of officers, Happy Jack Martha Bascom leaned against the scrubby pine treated me so generously that I need die the | raised his handcuffed wrists and saluted. tree while she unslung the pouch of provisions, death of a dog rather than see a few drops of | ‘Colonel Markham, I have one favor to ask | which she had provided for their journey, from their blood shed? There are more ways of liv- | of you. Nay,” he added, quickly, as the colonel | her back, and with the stout leather strap botind ing than one. And if what Bill says is true, | madea gesture; ‘‘yoware the lastman on earth | herself fast to the tree, yet in such a manner there would be another to share my lot. And | of whom I would ask mercy. What I meant* that she could back against the nearly perpendi- yet—!” | was—when you are through with your little cular bank, } / “ Slowly the hours rolled by, and _ still ‘the | amusement, please pass over what is left of me None too soon was this precaution taken, doomed prisoner sat upon his low pallet, think- | to my friend, Mr. Comstock. Will you consent | Her senses gave way, and for many a long hour ing, thipeing steadily with his eyes fixed on va- | to this?” she lay like one dead. Below, the river brawled cancy, only the swift changes as they swept | Colonel Markham nodded shortly, then turn- | and roared; the outlaws passed and repassed athwart his countenance telling that he was | ed away. Witha firm step, the doomed man and once their loud, angry voices grew low and more than a senseless statue. Only his eyes strode on to the spot where a plain pine coftin | almost fearful as they passed slowly along, the moved when a soldier brought him in food and | lay covered with an army blanket, then turned | red, glowing torches lighting up a still, white- drink; moved for one moment, then returned | and faced the firing party, a proud, half-defiant | faced figure borne in their midst. Above, the to the narrow thread of sunlight upon the floor | glow upon his handsome face. : ’ : storm elements were doing fierce battle. Heavy that marked the passage of time. The lips of *“‘ Make a sure thing of it, hoys,” he said, with raindrops were borne upon the flercely-howling the soldier parted, and there was a peculiar | a low, musical laugh. ‘ Just imagine the White | winds, the thunder rolled and crashed, ‘the slitter in his eve, but a sound from without | Sioux or some other rascal Stands before you, | forked lightning rent the inky clouds with awe- seemed to check the words he would have ut- and send your bullet home! \ some splendor, But where the senseless woman tered, and tapping upon the door, it opened and’; ‘‘Is there anything I can do for you—any | lay, the atmosphere was only gently disturbed, closed Behind his form. | message?” cried Dr. Hurlbutt, as le hastened | nor could the driving rain reach her, as yet. Night came, dragged its weary length along, | up. , As the night grew older little rills of water and when the gra ht of dawn stole through | Jack started, tl en | aid: } canee creeping down the steep hillsi(le, here and the narrow,’ grated window, it fell upon the | ‘ Y« tell my friends that I died for the there, growing stronger : nd gain ower with white face of the prisoner, who still c crime of another. Befere God! Tam innocent! | each moment, spread und increasing in num- apon his pallet, his eyes staring ste: ; The doctor grasped his hands and seemed t | bes until the entire slope was moistened, iivery vhen the now risine sun had I » rest, A waking earnestly, 1en he withdrew, t | NOW and then some } bowlder,; loosened » to f and his cheek flushed | scout’s is bowed, and his stout form was | by the penetrating moisture, woujd slide and sot t Lup, listening intent! { B } 10 Lift- and thunder down the } il it plunged out the door, t t th ing. hi l va i} und, he sullen splash into. the waters be- vi vdini 1¢@ to t] ced | ner } through it all Martha Bascom lay Ihe vy ster nay. Bill | me dead: and when d becan to dawn, | two ; 1 ; ( } vin the wild mm to aba the waters had | m the } ; ' ; r | their w thoroug] ot a sign re- ; ild hop it] yak v 2 l lor had a foundation. nove A : tT by the Igler ; FULLOW ; ja, My river—the **Don’t- blame me, pard,” and : if l wil ] Lth 1 ‘1 1] l : tl : y wash voice was husky as ho'spoke, “1 did 1 he l minaned y tw no vise, 1 couldn't ’ ! it ’ n 3.1 wid her eyes : w that the time wes ri " l li 1 ) Saw slike a rope was tied x ed manaecl hate h law ne 1 over: ye wd jer an’ t m mn 1 wl t wad ull MI ck it pu L back Oall x on lo 1 a ore shelter; 1 b [ cain’t Delp it! it Glen ; i me 1 n where i ul vant to spe : } as, knowin f wi friendly Ef vou y i but Pl hat t look | waters had done for het Y { ’ ith wh heart out at t doorstap—-so thar € n, And upor of the | moment to hear the Lvok f her bus- to speak, bat, ther fo t ‘ed blood was qui The he removed ‘t) ing the ' grea : ront, and, mar muskets had done their dut 1 provisions » toward feare; rds lest he should } | Sill Comstock uttered a wild yell, and leaning: | t \ t and drag : limbs on dow Instead, he clasped forward, fell upon his knees at the side of thu | and upward; The-s “ndered her Scout's han he two men sat down, comin. Dr. Hurlbutt arose, and his voice ring | task doubly difficult, fier rearty an hour by side, ¢ And Happy Jac j out, cold and sternly: of severe labor, Martha Bascom fl thint sho knew'th: ot be so bad, after The man is dead—shot through the heart!” | had ascended barely a dozen ‘feet in despair all, since { wasleft him a friend’ so true, so ——— she paused upon the tru of a. leaning tree. , whole-hearted as this CHAPTER XXVIiT Her brain seemed on. fire- her lix ros Were als Let those who knew him testify, Rough, un- “TAH JOURNEY OF DEATH,” most helpless, yeb. full of pain, She glanced lettered, superstitious, Bill Comstock—a heart of: } y AS the shar preportand blinding flash quickly } downward, and felt tempted tar nd all in ono Purest gold was his! tie g | followed tthe stern ch ullenge, if seemed to Mar- | desperate plunge. Wes life worth th 4 living? ( Thus the two friends sat until high noon. | tha Bascom that the whole of her face had bean And then, one by one the eveu's ot her past 4 Then the door opened and little Dr. Hurlbutt | blow naway, 80 heavy was the shock, so intense | life seemed to unfold their hidden leaves, to a) entered, and grasping the prisoner’s hand, he | the pain. Uttering a wild seream of agony, she | staud lainly before her, She covercilher eyes, Shook it vigorously. staggered: back, then fell heavily; just as the | but the visions would” not AWAY The deal “There! I said Pd a6 it—I told those pom- | swift current swept Kate Markham from her | seemed t6 arise, their mounniul cr reproaching Pons fools that they had sentenced an innocent | foothold. More by instinct than owing to any | eyes looking down into her very heart nd she Man, whose little finger was worth double their | fixed purpose, Martha Bascom. flung out her | could hear their vaices in the low Whis} ring of J Souls limped together—I told them that, and | armsand grasped firm hold of a projecting root, | the morning breeze as it eddicd through ‘the rm dared them to cashier me. I came here to say | the swift waters whirling her body around until | stiff foliage around and about her. A ‘bitter that you've sot one friend, my boy—that’s. me! | she lay close along and partially under the low, | groan parted the white lips, as she raised her 3 Don’t give up vet—we're doing all we can for | overhanging bank. head and cast a fearful glance around. Al Aad don't despair even when you stand facing She heard the man who had fired the pistol-shot. “Twill do whatIcan to make amends—L have | muskets, Jf nothing else will do, blamed if | spring into the water with a loud, warning ery, | repented, God knows! Mother iu heaven! am IT { don’t kick up a mutiny and blow all creation | and sho’ knew that ke had recognized her com: | going mad?” : s ’ to thunder!” r panion—for loud above the rushing waters his The fear of this gave her strength to fight n't getbinto trouble on my account, doc- | voice rung out in warning that the captive was | back the visions of a dead vast, and to measure : tor,” and appy Jack laughed ag be grasped | attempting an escape. She knew that the out- | the full force of her present situation. She saw } Hurlbutt's hand. ‘Now tell me—what is the | laws were fully aroused—and for a moment she | that the ascent was one that would severely i programme? J might ‘as well be learning my | almost resolved to release her grasp upon the task the powers of the strongest and most ac- . f parti in the play.” friendly root and trust herself'to the mercy of | tive man; and yet, she felt that, wounded and u q * You know the hour, The place is just be- | the river rather than that of her husband.’ But | wearied as she was, she could accomplish the 13 yond the Pavilion, There will be a general | then came another thought. Often as she had | feat unless discovered by watchful eyes below, y muster—for sake of the example, the old man | wished for death, now that it almost stared her | But to do this, she must nurse her strength, and es Says, but I told him it was because he that is-all, I believe. L'can’t-stop. Bill, ’'m | she go? She heard # loud shout come from the | only bind it up with a rag torn from her dress, ae to cuss the colonel alittle, and I want you, | mouth of the tunnel nearest her; that avenue of done; she once more resumed her strug? ap hak i ba " Sia te
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24 _ «Dime Library. oo a mn mn, notices the fort—she sees a crowd of! men col- | strange funeral cortege disappeared amid the lected; and a bright light—the light of return- | darkening shadows. ing reason—fills hereyes. She knew now what| Lieutenant Blake advanced and addressed the she had been seeking for! colonel. Markham started like one just awaken- , She saw the puff of smoke—heard the heavy | ing from a dream, brushed his hand quickl | report—and as one man fell to the earth, Si- | across his face as though he could wane bara moom utters a shrill neigh and plunges on, | the black memories that thronged his brain, only pausing when his hoofs gfaze the side of his | and muttered a brief reply—what, he knew not, fallen master! and turning, he strode toward the fort, swiftly, , et with the uncertain step of a man who has sen drinking. gles, fearing to delay; for, though she had an abundance of provisions, water there was none. Many a backward glance she cast, but the val- ley below was shrouded in gloom. A shudder shook her farm at the thought that at any mo- ment she might be discovered by some one of the outlaws, though unseen himself. And then —she knew that a rifle-shot would end all, were she to refuse their command to descend; perhaps his hand would hold, his eye direct the fatal weapon! Foot by foot—almost inch*by inch—she crept CHAPTER XXTX. “The woman is better, and has been asking on and upward, frequertly forced to by THE DEAD PAST REVIVED. for you, colonel,” said Dr. Hurlbutt, meeting her failing powers. The hours rolled by. The Srmoom ae short beside his one-time | him at the gates. ‘“‘She must have endured master, and bent his neck until his velvet muz- | frightful sufferings—I would give much to knoy zle almost touched the white, rigid face. But | her whole history!” the eager whimper met with no response. ‘‘Ts—is her mind clear?” hesitated Markham. Martha Bascom, as though awaking from a ““As yours, my dear sir; that is, for tha dream, stared wildly around her, pushing back | present. She has had fits of insanity, and more the heavy masses of gray-streaked hair from | than once; she will have another—and she wif her bandaged face, She shivered from head to | never live through it. She begged me to send foot as her gaze rested upon the face of Colonel | for you. Thereis something weighing upon her Markham, who, recognizing the horse, was | mind. With that removed, she may live on for eagerly advancing, a wild hope of hearing some- | months; otherwise, she will never see anothe! thing definite concerning his lost child filling his | sunset.” heart. “Where is she?” | “The man is dead!” repeated Doctor Hurlbutt, ‘In my quarters. I couldn’t take her to the and raising the blanket from the coffin, he | hospital. Shall I tell her you will come?” covered the blood-stained form. But his words, Colonel Markham signed for him to lead tha spoken so close beside her, attracted Martha | way. Obeying, the surgeon paused inside only ascom’s attention, and for the first time she | long enough to give his patient a draught of } noticed the faceof the corpse. A low, wailing | cordial, then, bowing gravely, he closed the } cry parted her lips, she covered her face as | door behind him. i sun passed across the narrow rift and vanished ; from view; yet the summit seemed as far i away asever. Then—a treacherous root gave ‘way, just as the woman’s whole weight de- pend ffom it, and down she fell, hurled from point to point until the same tree-trunk to which she had bound herself the night before, arrested her further fall. She hung across the tree, like one dead. A loud shout came from below, anda moment later a rifle exploded, the bullet burying itself just above the falling figure. The voice of aby Tom began to curse the marksman, whose _ hasty shot might betray their retreat to to those sa we were hunting their lives; and abashed the ey slunk away, believing, as Baby Tom de- | ~ , clared, that he had been deceived by a falling bush or broken limb. A few minutes later Martha Bascom struggled ee back to consciousness, and managed once more | though to shut out some dread object, and it “There was a time when I did not have to . to bind herself to the tree-trunk. She knew | seemed as though the leather strap alone kept | send for you, Alfred,” uttered Martha Bascom, im” now that the ascent was beyond her power. The | her from falling to the earth. in ‘a low but clear voice. ‘‘You stare at me— } ‘ fall had bruised her terribly. It seemed to her “The body is yours, Comstock—take charge | am I so changed, then? Through all the long, } , that she was dying. The trees around her were | of it,” and as he spoke the surgeon grasped Si- | wedry years that have gone by, I knew your nal nedding and dancing, keeping time to a weird | moom by the bridle and forced him bazk from | face’ at the first glance, Alfred. Look at me i melody that seemed ringing through her brain. | the coffin. once more—you can remember what I once { This movement brought them face to face | was, when you knew me as Martha Bogarth—” ‘ai with Colonel Markham. Martha Bascom bent A strange cry parted the soldier’s lips, The } her head until it was level with the soldier’s | woman smiled. | ¢ And then—a mist overspread her eyes—her ee drooped against the earth—all was a an How long she lay in this deathlike trance, | face. Her voice waslow, and she spoke quietly; “T tell you true, Alfred. I am the little Martha Bascom never knew. The hours and | yet each word was like the deliberate planting | Martha to whom pare taught the first lesson of H days had passed over her head unheeded. It | of a bullet. life. The finger of time has touched me heavier ©The curse of the past is working, Alfred | than you; but that does not matter. I did not Markham! You ea meg me to scorn, then—it | send for you to weary you with complaints ot is my turn now. Only for you, my master, my | vanished beauty. I have something more im - was night when her eyes opened. All was black and silent as death. Even the river below seemed to have ceased its complainings for the moment. father might now be alive. That loss was my | portant—” : With a steady, unfaltering hand, Martha ace epera Spat is yours! Down upon your ‘Some other time—I don’t think I can bear | Bascom unbuckled the strap that held her to | knees, man, and pray for the soul of John Mark- yous reproaches now, Martha,” said the soldier, ham—of your son, whom you have murdered!” oarsely. ‘““A lie—he was no son of mine!” gasped | _ ‘‘Some other time! have Iso much longer ta Markham, yet the ghastly pallor that over- | live? No, Alfred Markham, we are only sure f spread his face told how near his heart the ar- | of the present. I know that I have only a shoré | i the tree-trunk. She rose, grasped a slender i bush and lowered herself to the full length of | her arms. Her feet rested upon the end of a ; rock; and repeating the operation, never once j hesitating or appearing in doubt, she worked | row was planted. ‘‘Whoare you—I don’t—” | time to live—and I must clear my soul as far aa by her way down the face of the hill and stood| A low, pork ing laugh interrupted him. confession of sin can.” y safely beside the river. For a few momentsshe “ A change, is there not? Yet once—bah! the “The sin was mine—not yours,” muttered lig stared steadily across to where the outlaws’ huts is dead! Enough that your son lies there— | Markham. ; f lay shrouded in the dense obscurity, but then | dead, bis life cut short by your hand. See!— “The first—yes. I was innocent atid pure at i she shook her head decisively, and gliding along | the blood! it wells up—it spreads—it bears wit- | heart as an infant, when you first met me, Al- iz the bank, entered the tunnel, treading the nar- | ness to God!” fred. And yet—I cannot regret those days—so bee row path, passing the many unseen dan, as “A fit—make way!” cried Dr. Hurlbutt, ex- | happy, my ! It was like a glimpse of heaveu Ry readily as though crossing the smoothest floor, | citedly, as the woman’s head fell back, a bloody | —the only heaven there is for such as I! But 4 ‘ i reaching the moonlight beyond in safety. | Here she paused as though for reflection, pre- sently turning and skirting the base of the hill froth oozing through her tightly - clenched | never mind. I know that you did love me : teeth. _| then. And I—you were m ea Then yor. Cutting the strap that bound her to the pom- | went away—I read your letter—and I wen’ a for several hundred yards. Entering a narrow | mel, the surgeon called a couple of men, and | mad. There was a bal er when my reasoi i 4 oe she proceeded until a narrow valley lay with their aid bore the woman into the fort. returned, they said I killed it. I do not know “ 5 a fore her. Passing through the bushes she | Colonel Markham had turned toward the body | If so, it was for the best. It died before it P came to a rude but strong corral, containing a | of the man whom he had doomed to death—the | cheek could learn to flush with shame at it} i 4 number of horses. She entered and followed | body of his own son, if Martha Bascom spoke | mother’s name, ; ol the snorting animals to the further end. She | true. It was false—it must be false! And yet | ‘“‘ Alfred—it is hard to say what I must; an? L re spoke a few words of soothing, and then wound | it required areata: courage in him to resolve to | yet I cannot die with my sin untold. v ! a her fingers in the tse fies of Simoom. The | remove the blanket, to satisfy his doubts, than | your face away, I can tell it better, then.” whi i noble anima] followed her without an effort to | would have led him to the mouth of a cannon, Colonel Markham sunk into a chair, and ' Si . break away, and stood quietly beside her while | But Bill Comstock crouched beside the body | Martha Bascom turned heavily in bed, so that == li she pulled a saddle and bridle from among | of his friend, one hand resting upon the blood- | her face was hidden from the light. She spoke Ri 4 others beneath a pile of brush, She adjusted stained blanket, the other grasping a cocked re- | quick-y, as though fearing to allow herself time HC these, then left open the bars as she sprung into | volver. There was a fierce, hunted look in his | to reflect upon what she was saying: : 4 the saddle and rode rapidly away. eyes, and his voice sounded harsh and unnatural | “I followed you to the city. You were liv- a The noble steed obeyed her slightest gesture, | as he snarled, rather than spoke: ing with your wife, and—her child. You must ieighn and a wild, erratic trail the twain left behind | ‘‘You’ve did your bloody work, Colonel | remember the time, for soon after I found you di them! The crazed woman could remember that | Markham. They ain’t nothin’ more you: kin | you received a note—a note that I wrote but ling she had vowed to go somewhere, but that was | hurt. Go your way afore the devil that’s in me | did not sign. The words it contained were false han, all. She could not stop—she urged Simoom on, | gits the upper’ han’—go your way, an’ pray to | —a deliberate lie. The woman they accused of a now in one direction, now retracing her steps, | God that your trail won’t never ag’in cross that | sin was pure as an angel. I knew that; but you > 00 for hour after hour. © o’ Bill Comstock!” loved her—had left me for her, and that was E Broken sentences fell from her lips. Her} ‘You heard what that woman said? I must | enough. I believe my mind was crazed,even = Rat burning eyes roved here and Wiese ae seem- | see—if he is my—my son,” muttered the officer, | then. ; > ee al ed looking for something which constantly | his fingers nervously pla) ing with acoat-button. “That note was followed by others, They ac- | Tan t eluded her. : “Lay one finger on that blanket, an’ I'll kill | cused your wife of pes ag you—of beg an- S ard! Then the old feeling of faintness crept over you ” said Comstock, in a low, deadly tone. | other. The proofs that I gave were false, ; Of ba, her, and with a faint remembrance of what had | *‘ + he was in life don’t matter to nobody. | though so cunningly contrived that you -be- — But } , she buckled the stout strap around her | Afore he died, he give me his body. He told | lieved them. i » Will | y and tied it to the high pommel of the sad- dle. The reins fell from her fingers, and her head drooped. _ Simoom uttered a low whicker, tossed his ae ‘ladly, then turned into a vali nt ri; me a what I was to do, an’ sure as thar’s a God lookin’ down on us, Pil kill the man as tries to cross me in kerryin’ out his wishes! Big a man as you be, you cain’t tetch this body, an’ live. I’most wis youd try! only I know he wouldn't like it. Go! ef you ain’t achin’ to die—git away from me. I tell you thar’s a / bloody devil in me a-callin-— Drive up’ on this ror side, in,” the scout added, as his brother scout drew near, leading a horse and small am- | y 3 ; 3 my sum- | bulance. : urns. You did not have to wait long. Ac- | Like one in a maze, Colonel Markham stood | companied by a witness you drove to the house | — watching the two men as they lifted the send I had named, forced your way up-stairs and |— and placed it in the ambulance. The coffin fol- | found her—your wife—in a ee chamber, lowed, then Martin took the horse by the bridle | with a man. With a curse you struckher down — dis- | and moved slowl prey. Cipteioaks with | —would have killed her, only for your friend {| an drawn pistol, Praital behind, with many a | The stranger ped. ; as ackward a lion sometimes reluctant- | Tha’ n relay hi, am imoom |} wi and thus
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and | ley. EHS f eh the bushes and paused be- al ig pare throu, @ aes Saddle and SS The Long Haired ‘Pards.’ |S RT TT Ve ARTE I ower ehamber until you came, As God,hears me, she was innocent as the child unborn!” A heartrending groan broke from the man’s a and he sunk upon his knees beside the bed. The woman continued, her voice even and | steady, though her whole form quivered with strong emotion: “Your wife fled, that same night, taking her child with her. You sued for a divorce, and ob- tained it. Your friend bore willing evidence, and she never appeared to contest the decree. You sought far and wide for the child, but in vain. ey were with me, for years, and after that I kept track of their whereabouts. ‘7 married—and then my punishment began, My father and my mother died—died of broken hearts. They never held up their heads after my disgrace. From that day I went to the bad. How could I help it? Their faces were ever be- fore me—day and night—waking or dreaming! I could hear their prayers for their erring child —I can hear them now—they ring in my ears like the knell of fate! Ican see them—God of mercy! look!” and Martha Bascom started up in bed, a maniacal fire in her eyes, her finger point- bd at vacancy? ‘“‘ Wather—mother—do not look so angry! I eould not help it—the devil urged me on—he would not give me time to reflect. Pity me— mercy—you are killing me!” A wild burst of hysterical laughter followed until, exhausted, the woman fell back upon the bed. Dr. Hurlbutt entered hastily and bent over her. Her eyes opened, but the light of reason was gone, to return only for a moment before death, ; “Mell him—his daughter—Black Hollow— fdlead—” Then Dr. Hurlbutt gently drew the sheet over the face of the dead, CHAPTER XXX. NIGHT RANGING. Tue breath of the runner came hot and quick- ly; his chest rose and fell like the working of a human bellows; the perspiration streamed down his face, over his broad breast, blurring and blending the fantastie devices of a bird, beast and reptile; but though his limbs were aching, his brain throbbing, Leapah pressed on with a courage that Sl Gat fatigue, his eyes fixed upon a faint spiral of smoke—so faint that only a trained eye on the look-out for precisely that signal could have distinguished that from the light, fieecy clouds beyond. As a spur lends re- newec fire to a generous courser, so this tiny smoke-wréath caused the Indian runner’s strides to lengthen and quicken. Straight on until a narrow, secluded valley opened before him, a valley that, to a.casual glance, seemed unoccu- pied by living man or beast. But Leapah knew hetter: He dropped into a walk, and only his glistening skin and the mingled pigments told of his long, hard race. His eyes swept rapidly around, then he strode across the valley and ‘paused before a low line of trees and shrub- ry. ; Tho leafyz screen parted and the White Sioux stepped ‘forth, his eyes asking a question to which the Indian scout made prompt reply. ‘“My father said—‘Go find where the pale- faced squaw of the fort is hidden.’ Leapah has obeyed. Where the river runs through the mountain—where the bad spirits dwell—there Leapah found her.. She is a captive among the white skins who follow Strong Arm—” “The dog who sold poisoned fire-water to the ‘Sioux! It is well. The wolves sball gnaw his “bones,” and, his eves glowing hotly, the White Bioux uttered a sharp ery. y ‘As though by magic the valley was filled with armed and mounted warriors, their faces pain’, ed for war. With a celerity that would have shamed many 4 well-drilled company of sol- diers, the dusky, troop wheeled into a double line, before the*great chief. He raised his hand—all was still, even the wild mustangs stood as though turned to stone. k “My children! I oe blood 1 the ge weeeg ; at ripe for our knives! Leapah, Secale, eit foot and. true—Leapah has hunted Strong Arm to his hole. He heard him ugh and the children of the Sioux cow- ards, He said they are squaws—they are afraid of bad spirits, and dare not come where I live. But he lied. We will go and take his scalp. I Will lead the way—and my children will follow me,” Doge 1 There was no reply in words, but as one man _ the red-skinned warriors raised their weapons "And shook them in the air. The White Sioux nailed grimly, then blew a sharp note through his fingers. With a joyous whimper bis big J The White Sioux vaulted into the ae ‘slowly rode along the line, his eye keenly scrutinizing each horseman as he passed a femilt Past satisfactory, for he by, fa wired Wa hand ‘and trotted rapidly up the val- The warriors ek ne, riding in dou- ~ ble file close upon his f Sora sun: rotlec ae estern sun’ ré 4 ae White Sh ; oe to n ' _ The W. seemed to He Jed, the wa ? ito rat pause out pause 0: ‘gave place twilight, wh li int Pom ¢ red beams of | ting from their weapons “ The = is * | panted the maiden, clinging to ne guide. | rv hesitation, waste. Steadily the te 2 ing their animals where the trail was unusually ce, cast lips. to receive the last breath of his Indian wife. And as he recalled that tragic scene, he urged on his horse as though trying to flee from his own thoughts, When the party drew near to Black Hollow, the White Sioux slackened his speed, and sent several trusty braves on in advance, following | at amore deliberate pace. But the precaution proved needless. The path was clear. Doubt- fees the outlaws were fast locked in. slumber, trusting to the natural defenses of their retreat. The Indians rode up close to the mouth of the tunnel, knowing that the roaring of the waters would effectually smother any sound they might make. On foot the White Sioux cropt forward and entered the arch. Though the in- tense darkness baffled all vision, the sense of touch told him that an attempt to i ge the outlaws by means of this passage would than folly unless the adventurers were thorough- ly acquainted with the perilous trail—which he nor his were. Slowly retreating, he summoned several of his moré prominent braves by name, and with- drew out of ear-shot. ; “Strong Arm is like the gopher; he has two holes to his retreat. When he hears us coming in by one, he will run out at the other.” “Tf both holes are large enough for him, they are large enough for a Sioux brave,” uttered one of the party. “Blackbird has an old head; he speaks what T have thought,” said the White Sioux, and his voice sounded colder than customary. ‘We will stop up one hole and hunt the gopher through the other. Leapah, the right to strike the first blow is yours. You will take two- thirds of the braves and lead them around the mountain to the upper pass. Ride swifb and hard that -you may have darkness enough to hide your coming from the white snakes. Leave your horses and steal upon the enemy—let your knives and tomahawks be the first to tell them that death is upon them, Tien strike hard and sure! “But firsti—to, you I give this duty. The white squaw must not be hurt. Find her lodge, and secure her first, Caution your braves as you ride along. He who brings her to me, sate and uninjured, shall be the richest among the whole Sioux tribes. Go now—you know your duty. hi the best horses, and leave a hot trail behind you.” “One word, chief,” spoke the brave called Blackbird. \ f ““Well?? and the White Sioux spoke impa- tiently. Oh ; ‘*T am to ride with Leapah?” ‘No, * You are wanted here.” ; \Proud of his being selected for such an im- portant mission, Lenpal lost little time in choosing his braves, taking two-thirds of the one hundred warriors. Mounted fp the fresh- est horses of the herd, he Jed his band through the night, } es Blackbird, after his sharp denial by the chief, turned aside and squatted down beside a man who was lying near the water’s edge. They conversed earnestly in low, guarded tones, The White Sioux glided past them, and they were silent. He paused for a moment, his eye fixed upon Blackbird, but finally passed on without: speaking. A few minutes later he re- turned, but the two figures had vanished, He peered keenly around, then hastily passed through his lines, But his search was in vain. Neither of the mun were to be found. He lean- ed against a rock in silence. Whatever his sus- picions might have been, he did not give them open utterance, An hour of silent waiting rolled by. Then the White Sioux gave a, start, springing sud- denly into full life and action. Faint and in- distinct, there came to his ear the regular tramp- ung of a-horse’s hoofs in zap gallop. ' A low hiss parted. his each coiling his lasso as he ran, darted away through the gloom. Motionless as graven es the remainder of the Sioux awaited the result. They heard the pattering sound ab- ruptly cease, and knew that the rider had been A few moments passed—then the arres' three braves returned, accompanied by horse ith Hibs eons wlaxtaidtariaet gabe econ e ite Sioux staited forward as he recog- nized his re (as hac aaa a his daughte ie ‘“‘Eunora! what does thismean—” is danger—the soldiers are coming!” parent, weak from fati, BE 29, SAO: ENE ON IE ane The chief drew her t oles was unsteady, an cared not to B WOrse | ips. Three braves, feels fry Oy ed aie ¢ ae one side, He knew Pirane aba of tholivo ds 8, a haggard, miser- | weak, |. _ Tell me all—what have you learned? Why | did not Emanthea bring me the tidings?” “He was gone—I dared not wait,” and be: tween her panting sobs Bunora told her story. Their spy at tis fort—a lame half-breed— brought her the tidings. Martha Bascom had spoken of Black Hollow, just before she died, | and Cdlonel Markham, asa last hope, resolved | to seek his child there. He was to ride forth at ‘dusk, to avoid observation in case there were spies lurking near, The half-breed stole away at the first Prepay and told Eunora, She | fearing for her father, mounted her horse an rode hard in hopes of finding him at the val- | ley, but was too late. She pressed on, at full speed, accamplishing her mission as deseribed. The White Sioux pressed one kiss upon hér | brow, and bade her await hisreturn. He select- ed several braves whose prowess he could trust, , and giving them carefulinstructions, dispatched | them to watch for the coming of the enemy. | This precaution taken, he returned to Eu- nora. f “Though there was really.no need of your coming, little one, your thoughtfulness of my welfare is very dear to me,” he said, in alow, affectionate tone that sounded strangely from one of his merciless reputation. ‘‘ Come—I must place you where you will be in safety,” He found her a secure retreat among the rocks, and then awaited the result. The delay was but brief, One of the scouts soon returned, The soldiers were near, had only paused to send a scout ahead to see if the way was clear. Bid- ding his daughter remain perfectly still, the White Sioux stole away to where his braves were placed in ambush along the trail the sol- | diers must follow in order to reach the mouth of | the tunnel. The scout was suffered to pass and repass un- | harmed, nor did he so much as suspect that nearly two score deadly foes lay within half that number of yards, as he trotted past them to make his report that the trail was open. — A brief period of suspense, then\¢ame the dull trampling of many hoofs. Through the faint, indistinct light of approaching dawn, the body of soldiers became visible. And then—wild and piercing tose the war-ery of the White Sioux. A blinding flash—a withering volley—and the nir was filled with shrieks of pain, groans and cries of horror! CHAPTER XXXI. EVENTS IN BLACK HOLLOW. WueEn Kate Markham lost her foothold and was swept away from the side of her companion in her intended flight, she had scarcely time, to realize her peril when the swift current whirled her into the tunnel—her head struck with ter- | rific force against a rock, and she knew no more for many a jong hour. Yet herdife was spared, and perhaps the more certainly that she was so early disabled, Borne thenugh the arched pas- sage, bruised against thesunken rocks that still, as by a miracle, gee her life, the unconscious maiden was tossed into a whirling eddy a féw rods below the mouth of the panels The waters swept her against the bank, and her long hair caught upon a projecting snag. Obey- ing the circling pool, her limbs swung around until the partially submerged Jog ‘held her fast, her waters, It was thus that Baby Tom found her, and in silence, almost reverently, senseless burden back to the huts in Black Hol- low, where a middle-aged indian squaw, the — wife of one of the men, took charge of the body. The giant hung around, nervously im- patient, until he received the squaw’s verdict that Kate was alive—was not very sériously in- ge Not until then did he seem to think of is wife. Doubtingly the man whose pistol- shot had given the alarm, made his report. By the brief glare of his piel: he had PWS Gear the white face of Martha Bascom, and though fecling himself blameless under the circum- stances, he drew a ity breath of relief when Baby Tom cursed+not him but the missing wo- man, Immediate search was made for her body, sles the little river, but invain, And then Bal y Tom celebrated his freedom by get- tin slorion ! i ¢ ‘For hours te Markham lay like one dead, ely breathing, but the Indian woman never beamed to doubt e ultimate success of her ad- ‘ministrations. During those two days, while life tnd death were 80 seedy contending for the a ere his Comnine, aby. Tents fl ‘ ‘vast de of sober thinkin . 6 words he ‘ spoken in jest to” cate curtis their flight from oked | roe: now fairly haunted him. The obstacle that then existed was removed. Now there was only the will of a feeble girl between — him and a pretty wife, a rich father-in-law, life of ease and comfort for the future, Might | it notbet mepcnss thoughtfully at histawny peat lue eyes filled with a strangely ' able looking wreteh crawled up to the mouth of ead raised above the bubbling | the outlaws bore their — 4
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26 — oe + ——sy — the tunnel, and after many a painful effort, suc- ceeded in mal:inz himself heard. And thus Ben Watsen came home! | By snatches, and broken by many a painful | gasp. told his story. How he had deceived | the scidiers, how he had stolen away under | cover of the rain-storm; how he had remained | hidden during the hot and persistent search, | more than once peering out upon the men as . they ranged almost within arm’s-length of his eovert, until the quest was abandoned as hope- less. Then wounded, unarmed, without food | or the means of procuring any, how he had | dragged his heavy lim's over the long, weary trail, suffering a thousand deaths before he reached the end. And after Watson came, Baby Tom thought harder and more persistently than ever, but making slight progress. The end—the result to be accomplished, stood out clear ani plain enough; but the preliminary details as heattempted to ek Ye them, sent his | heavy brain whirling and reeling, until he felt | likea drunken man. And one day Ben Watson, whom plenty of food and repose had wonder- fully restored, fairly bewildered Baby Tom by broaching the very subject that had so long puzzled the giant’s wits. ““Thar's only one way you kin make things sure, now, boss—marry the gal. Do it up in style—no slop-work, but the clean, ginewine arti- cle! It kin be did, now the old woman is out o’ the way. Take her critter—back to Laramie— git the chaplain todouble ye up. Then strike the old man, her pap, fer somethin’ heavy, He cain’t well hang his own son-in-law, you see,” ‘She wouldn’t have me,” muttered the giant, his face glowing hotly, his big eyes aed before the cat-itke gaze of his com- 8. x “She mought do wuss. Fine ladies like her think a heap of honor. Say the word, an’ I'll agree to settle the case. Ton minutes’ talk ‘il be enough. J’ll skeer her into sayin’ yes—” “ Yousay one crooked wort to her, Ben Wat- ‘son, an’ lll cut your hearfiout!” said Baby Tom, with deliberate emphasis, a blazing devil in his eyes, The decoy uttered a low, long-drawn whist'e, but dropped the subject. But his words still rung in Baby Tom’s ears. They haunted him by night, and furnished him with food for hut, leaving Kate to herself and her troubled re- thought during the long, dull days that crept so slowly by while Kate rkham lay struggling with death. And when the crisis came and pass- ed, andthe Indian nurse told Baby Tom that her patient would be perfectly restored within the week, he entered the little hut one afternoon and motioning the squaw to withdraw, squatted down beside the low pallet of blankets and skins. One glance showed him that Kate was awake. Then he averted his head, staring steadily at a bloated spider at work in the corner, and like a school-boy ‘‘ speaking his piece,” un- ened his mind. ; ‘« Mebbe you hain’t forgot what I said to you, other day when we was ridin’ over here, I said I was thinkin’ powerfully of making you I was ~ in’, then, ’cause I was al- ut things is changed now. Marthy, I mean. An’ the boys is wlin’ cause we’ve run so much resk an’ got nothin’ to show for’t. Your pap won’t pay us money. The boys think we're runnin’ toe much resk in keepin’ you here—” “Set me free—return me to my friends and oe shall have money!” eagerly interrupted te, her pale face flushing with hope. “The boys won't ee, They say you'll ect ’em out. The soldiers’d hunt ’em down an’ ’em like dogs. They say better fer you to go under then them. They say ’t ’d save trouble ef we putt you in the river. They say you cain’t never go out o’ this hole alive onless core so bound to us that you won’t dare split. ey say there’s a preacher man over to La- ramie. "Tain't so fur to ride, They say ef you ’gree fo do that, they’ll let you go back to ‘our pap. me I don’t understand you,” faltered Kate, but the flush of h faded from her cheek, and a look of terror filled her eyes, “The boys say that ’s only one here as has hed any ’sperience in ‘lar, sure-enough marridge,” continued Baby Tom, his big eyes never moving from the bloated spider. “ That man hed a wife, but she’s gone dead. I won’t 2 ad no names, but you was ‘1 o’ her when she was shot an’ drownded. The boys say you must marry that man, ef you ever keer bout seein’ your folks ag’in. They said fer me to tell e, They said he'd try to make you a good hus- bey He’s a rough cuss; I won't gainsay that, but the boys said mebbe you’d ike git along with him ruther than the river. ey Said you could hev ontel to-morrow to think itover. An’ —that’s all they said, I think,” and Baby Tom arose, still staring atthe bloatedspider. “‘I jest thought I'd tell ye, seein’ the boys was so sot on it. Tao water’s colder, sence the rain, I think. You don’t look overly strong, an’ it er ive you a cold—the river, 1 mean. An’ that fool man—hi harder’n a mule kin kick down-hill!” With which words, spoken in a tone far different from the one in which the oth- ers were uttered, Baby Tom strode from the 6 loves you flections. The afternoon faded, the stars began to peer down into Black Hollow as though anxious to read the secrets of its gloomy depths. The out- laws cooked and ate their supper, smoked their pipes and then crawled into their rude huts or stretched themselves out beside the cheerful fires, to sleep—the last sleep that they were to know in this world. The hours rolled on, The moon climbed the mountain-side and looked down into Black Hol- low. Did its full orbobserve that dim, phantom- like figure so silently creeping through the bushes, into the clearing? The faint light of the dying embers were re- flected from a bronze, shining skin, nude from the waist upward. Crouching low to the ground, the shadow stole from hut to hut, pausing for a brief space by each, entering more than one, as if in search of some particular object. And as a half-burn- ed brand broke in twain, its ruddy glow revealed the shape of an Indian, bending over the form of Baby Tom, who was muttering restlessly in his sleep. A long knife hung over the outlaw’s heart, but his mutterings ceased and his life was spared, for that moment. The shadow crept on and paused beside the hut in which lay Kate Markham. Through the brush door came a tiny ray of light. Nodding over the dying fire crouched the Indian wo- man, Gently the door was pulled open, not the faint- est sound betraying the action. Then, at a low hiss, a second figure appeared, and the twain crept into the hut. ne new-comer crouched behind the squaw. The first, passed on to the pallet where las the maiden, sleeping. A slight motion of his hand—and each shadow grasped its prey. There was a brief, almost noiseless struggle. Kate’s eyes opened, but a firm hand was upon her lips, and, before she could realize her peril, a soft gag was forced into her mouth, She tried to shriek—but in vain; and then her brain reeled, She had fainted. The Indian caught her up in his arms and turned toward the door, The squaw lay help- less, bound and gagged. The man who se- cured her glided to the door, All wasstill. The outlaws lay sleeping, little suspecting the strange drama that was being enacted in their very midst. ‘ In silence the bold abductors stepped over the prostrate bodies, crossed the clearing, gained the river and forded it without an accident or mishap. The shadow whose arms were free, fumbled around in the dark for a few moments, then si- lently placed the end of a stout raw-hide $6 in the hand of his companion, and began clim ing up the steep hillside, at the very point where Martha Bascom had made the attempt, days before; When the lasso was drawn taut, the man who bore the senseless maiden upon his left arm began climbing up, aided by the rope, until he gained the point where his comrade stood, Twice was this repeated, and the twinklin, stars above seemed be growing nearer, an the roaring of the waters below to recede. But then, when only a few feet of the lasso hung be- low his hand, when he felt the moist earth pion prope 8 beneath his feet, and the entire weight of himself and that of the maiden depend- ed upon the potpoe one hand, a frightful eae menaced the Indian. A sharp hiss startled x Two glistening diamond-like eyes suddenly a peared just above his head, And then a cold, clammy substance touched his hand. A low, uliar skirr sounded in his ears, And he ew that a rattlesnake was preparing for its fatal stroke! “ Blackbird!” came a cautious whisper from above. As though startled by the sound, the serpent crawled along his hand and its head rested upon the Indian’s neck, its angry hiss filling his ear! CHAPTER XXXII. FOUND AND LOST, HiGcH above the roaring of the little river, whirling through the arched passage, reverber- ating from point to point of the pine-clad moun- tain, rung the echoes of that withering volley, of the shrieks and groans of the fallen, the ex- ultant yells of the ambushed savages—and high above all ed forth the wild war-cry of the terrible White Sioux! es, wild ogan inspired him. ‘The friendly dark ness covered his ghastly face, his trembling limbs and starting eyeballs. For the moment he was utterly unmanned by the remembrance of a past crime and its solemnly-promised pun- ishment. “Tt’s Injuns an’ soldiers!” exclaimed Ben Watson, so close beside him that the giant start- ed. ‘‘Ef they'll only chaw each other up! I reckon we'll hey to git out o’ this—” “You think they’re after us?” . Dime Library. nee Ee SS ee ‘“‘Sartin! What fer else would them critters be so fur from the fort?” snarled the de- coy. Myon git the boys together—tell ’em to pack up whatever they keer ‘bout takin’ along,” said Baby Tom, once more himself. ‘Til go take a squint at these critters, an’ fix the trail so they cain’t come in on our backs. Tell ’em .to keep cool—but make haste!” Baby Tom crossed the river and entered the tunnel, holding a drawn knife before him as a guard against a possible surprise from some in- trepid enemy, threading the narrow, perilous trail, though in inky darkness, with a sure and confident foot. Cautiously he peered out, and ; through the faint gray light of the dawning day, he could distinguish a mass of writhing, | struggling humanity close locked in a death- | grapple. There were flashing revolvers, though j these were but seldom used; the fight was too } close and deadly for anything like deliberation; the cold steel was doing its work, instead. The giant’s eyes sought for one particular form, and the manner in which he fingered his ; revolver shadowed forth the deadly wish that } filled his beart. ; “Jest fer one minnit!” he muttered, as he : peered through the gray mist. ‘Jest one glimpse, an’ I’d be a free man ag’in!” He listened for the voice of the White Sioux but it was silent. If he could only know that the man whom he so feared was dead! And yet he dared not step forth to ascertain—he dared linger no longer, and turning, he retraced his steps for a few yards. Pausing here, he crouched down and slipping kis fingers into a deep crack, threw his whole strength into one effort, tearing a section of the ledge from its position and toppling it over into the water. For full six feet the trail was com- pletely destroyed. } “ Let ’em try to come in now!” he chuckled “Be he'd arising and resuming his progress. only try, fust!” During his absence Ben Watson had not been idle. Several fires had been rekindled, and the little clearing was now fully illuminated. The outlaws were hurrying to and fro, preparing their loads for a hasty flight by the upper pass. Ben Watson reached Baby Tom’s side and has- tily muttered: ‘Promise to give me half you make, an’ I'll help you give the boys the slip. “I'won't be hard—they’re skeered hafe out o’ thar boots as ‘tis. How isi uick!” ‘ ‘Good enough! come—we’ll git the gal, an’ make a break. Ef only those devils hain’t thought 0’ sendin’ round to the upper pass!” ‘ A yao, ae a blazing brand, Baby Tom ; sprung to the hut where he had left his captive, ‘ and flung open the brush door. One glance— e and he stood like one petrified. Ben Watson t dodged under his extended arm. He saw the as bound and gagged form of the Indian woman— ay but no more. The girl for whose possession az pri anos dared and suffered so much, was at me nid Whar is she?’ he snarled, whirling around m with bared knife threatening the stupefied giant. in “You've run her off to cheat’ me out o’ my an, rights! Tell me whar she is, or I'll cut your be: heart—” . The air was filled with a series of yells, blood- eurdling and awe-inspiring; the ringing war- whoop of the merciless Sioux! pee ge the line of shrubbery burst the painted horde, led by tall Leapah, whose revolver rung out the death-knell of a brawny outlaw as he sprung within the circle of light. * This sight seemed to break the spell which had fallen upon Baby Tom when he found that his prize had vanished, and with a loud, bellowing ro-r of enco ment to his men and defiance to his enemies, he drop; the torch, drew his Eb PPE S827 op pee pistol and sp’ into the thickest of the melee. te Great as was their numerical superiority, the The Sioux fell back before this human avalanch Tock who seemed to court death as a pastime, an Slime with a show of returning courage, the outlaw Wats. began to fight for their lives. Men | ice Baby Tom aunpped his revolvers, and Swift) each time Bey failed him, having been tho Wherg oughly wet when _he destroyed fe tra through the tunnel. With an angry curse h flung them at the heads of the savages, and , snatching up a heavy, blazing log from th j nearest fire, whirled it above his head ané brought it down with terrific foree full upon th shaven crown of Lea Without a groan th Prac young chief fell, his skull crushed out of hag ret semblance to humanity. A; and again th ar ponderous weapon was whirled aloft and ead syarely time it d ed, there death followed. WH Whew! every stroke the giant gave vent to a du in fi heavy roar of fierce hatred. He seemed like ® gy N21 avenging colossus—like some horrible mach ride of destruction rather than a simple mortal, al fivin the bravest of the Sioux warriors shrunk fro) 8nd t hefore him, though plying their weapons deft Whit, from behind. With icnife, tomahawk and pis Hi dea) they sought to avenge the fall of their lead of #382 al but turning to flee whenever the raging ¢g ably. faced toward them. 4 hy ~ eben secarshyerig he nema wount movements 0} ‘om Ww switt and certain, He began to stagger foreb,
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[ee ips parted to emit that sullen roar,a bloody froth fell upon his long beard and swelling chest. And then—he stumbled and fell upon his ees, With fiercely exultant yells the dusky warriors hurled themselves upon him, plying knives and hatchets with demoniac rage. But N even in death the lion is dangerous. Shaking off his assailants as a buffalo bull 1 scatters the cowardly coyotes, Baby Tom arose. is huge hands grasped an Indian by the throat. | | That terrible gripe lasted but a single moment; then the Indian was flung aside, with broken : heck, and the giant made a blind rush toward ; prother enemy. { His limbs failed him. He flung back his head, ] and tried to shout forth his defiance, but the | kot blood choked his utterance, and he sunk fneavily to the ground. Once more the Indians wrung upon him, but the wounds their weapons nflicted, he never felt. Baby Tom was dead. ' At the first alarm Ben Watson had turned to dee, but to do so he must cross the clearing in the very face of the Indians. Before he could turn to crawl into the thicket, Baby Tom made his impetuous charge, and, despite himself, the fecoy felt that he must watch the result. It was as though a spell bound him. He could not turn hiseyes from the raging giant. Through rvery change, every movement of that horrible yet strangely fascinating tragedy, his eyes were lued upon the giant, nor could he turn to flee, ough he knew that to remain was almost cer- tain death. When the brief struggle was over, he crept e thong the line of bushes, hoping to escape from tha clearing and reach the trai leading to the apper pass, unseen, but he was doomed to disap- oointment, A dark form leaped from the water upon the bank, with a low om grating cry of fierce joy. he “Tye got ye this time!” and Bill Comstock he plutched the decoy by the throat. ng The two men fell to the ground, struggling ss. | jercely. A brawny Indian, who had been in as- t ursuit of the fugitive outlaw, stumbled over } em with a loud grunt, the shock forcing the ri ; qoscak Sy tomahawk from his hand, as well be | is separating the two foes. sas | Ben Watson rolled swiftly over toward the \ river bank. Comstock sprung erect with a yell an’ of anger, only to be sp aor ga the Sioux nin’s | warrior, whose strong arms immediately encir- cled the body of the scout with crushing force. wiid light in his big eyes to dim, and when his | Tom There was no time for explanation, A mo- tive, ment’s delay might insure the escape of the de- nce— oy, and eels Rice Bill managed to draw atson. the knife from his belt. Though clasped too vy the Sates iho dealing a sure blow, the scout man- nan— aged to place his knife against the Indian’s side, egsion and then pressed it home toits very haft. Death- . was stricken, the savage released his grasp, and was. 4 hurled fiercely aside. ound One swift glance showed Watson just ring- giant. ing into the river, evidently intending to ford it Qo’ my and seek concealment among the dense shrub- ¢ your bery upon the further wall of the valley. Com- , stock gave one mighty leap and landed just be- plood- hind Watson in the river. The decoy madea ee war fierce, backward thrust, and Bill felt the keen shrough steel entering his side NSS like death. | horde, But not even death should cheat him of his - out the Prey, Flinging himself forward he grappled sprung With the outlaw, pinning both arms to his side $o that he was unable to use his knife. hich had The death that stared him in the face lent that his— atson strength and comraige and right despe- ellowing rately he struggled. It was ghting against fate. defiance He was helpless in the grasp of an enemy whose drew eapantage could only be annulled by death it- ee. * sears The current beat fiercely against them. The rae a ; beneath their feet were covered with time, and ®. Then—as though despairing of seene e pasit Watson flung his y backward, and both Men fell at full length. The roaring waters iftly whirled them into the black tunnel, Where death lurked upon every side, curse beste ! CHAPTER XXXIII. ; from head A LIFE FOR A LIFE. Piacina implicit confidence in his scout, who { re and reported that the way was A clear and open, Colonel Markham led his men guerely into the trap set for him bee White » Sicux, ting nothing until t rin, Whoop filed the ain-auntil rifle end pistol om al bekonee cat oun succession, and as his dreaded foe staggered back and fell, a hoarse shout of triumph broke from his lips. With the fall of their chief, the Sioux braves seemed to lose a portion of their fire and impe- | tuosity, and the soldiers, with a united effort, sueceeded in cutting their way through the toils. retreat, for the deadly surprise had greatly magnified the numbers of their foes, but dash- ing through the crowd of fugitives, Colonel Markham succeeded in rallying them. Even in that hour of intense excitement, the thought of | his daughter outweighed all else, ' near the foot of the steep rock-wall, the officers consulting upon the best course for them to pur- sue. The council was of brief duration. ull sound of fighting—Leapah’s assault upon the outlaws in Black Hollow. For one instant the soldiers listened, breathlessly. Then Dr. Hurl- butt spoke, pointing to the rock-strewn space before them. ‘‘The question is settled for us, gentlemen!” Leaping from cover to cover numerous dusky forms could be distinguished by the growing daylight. In order to leave their present posi- tion, the whites would have to run the gantlet of more than a score of rifles, A single glance showed Markham that, though his force was still the strongest, numerically, owing to the advan- tage of cover, any attempt to break through that line would be little short of suicide. There was but one chance for them, and that was promptly embraced. : “Dismount and form a corral with the horses!” he shouted, setting the example. The animals were securely bound, twoand two, in the form of a half-circle, either end resting against the sie ate rock, A taunting tem came from the Sioux, and stealing closer, a ew of the braves opened fire upon the living barricade. Two horses fell, then another, their dying struggles threatening to stampede the re- mainder. Colonel Markham called several of his men by name and directed them to try and silence the savage marksmen, while the remainder, under his lead, began loosening the gravelly soil with their sabers and throwing it up in the form of a breastwork. The sun peeped over the hilltop, and found all busily engaged. The Indians were still keep- ing iy) a galling fire, though as yet their bullets had found no nobler victims a half-score horses. The soldiers still labored at the trench, now ing quite a respectable appearance, for, as the horses fell, they were promptly las- soed and dragged into position to form a part of the breastwork. There came no further sound from Black Hol- rb and pe: vl inge. xeares gue pay trange as it may appear, though, when dying, h Martha, Bascom pad epoken of Kate’s being at Black Hollow—and dead—he believed the one part, while Bs the other. He felt that his child was alive—but now, he feared, in the hands of the ruthless Sioux. He flung his whole powers into the work, and performed more than any two men under his command, but he could not smother that sickening fear. Suddenly the scattered shots from the enemy became a long, rolling fusilade, and believing Colonel Markham called to his men to cease work and stand ready to repel a charge. But not an Indian could be seen, and their positions were only indicated by the sharp puffs of blue smoke as their rifles were Set aa tn One soldier pitched Pees Me chiy dead ere he touched the earth, shot through the brain. Another staggered back and rolled into the trench, with a sharp cry. Dr. Hurlbutt was beside him in an instant, forgetting all else in his professional zeal. This last man was Walt Obermeyer, one of the survivors of the flerce and canguinery. struggle at the stone fort in Crooked Valle ae Warned by this loss, Colonel Markham order- ed his men into the trench, where beng itor at least be partially covered. for himself, he seemed unconscious of danger, and stood beside his big white war-horse, s : enemy upon whom he might avenge the death Ten minutes later the party was collected | and muffled, yet unmistakable, there came the | (The Long ae cee Indian slowly fought its way toward him, he | “Better if we emptied the chambers of one revolver in swift | muttered the surgeon, at Markham’s elbow. | For a few moments it bade fair to become a hot | that this covered some important movement, | ing in vain for an’ of his soldiers. ; As andery as it had opened, the fusilade ceased, and all was still without. Only for the ing clouds of hazy smoke, there was nothing fo betray the presence of an enemy. ; Gradually the soldiers resumed their and continued them until quite noon, with only one interruption. As he stood watching, z ng force of Indians were hipgy } rapidly up ootman labors. Sa ———— had charged them at first,” “They outnumber us three to one now, with every advantage of position.” ss How many men have we—fit for work?” “Thirty-one, all told. Obermeyer is hard hit —dying, I fear,” replied the surgeon. Markham stared moodily before him. The prospect was black, indeed, and he could see no way out of the toils. ‘We can only wait and sell our lives as dear. ly as possible,” he said, after a pause. ‘‘ There's not enough horses to mount us all, We must fight the bloodhounds until help comes from the fort. Blake may grow uneasy at our prolonged absence, and send out a scout.” But it was plain that the colonel had little hope of this pos- sibility ever coming to pass. ‘“‘Look! what on earth—a white flag, by Ju- piter!” exclaimed Hurlbutt, pointing to where a white cloth was moving toand fro above a black bowlder, “Tt may be a trick, but you may as well an- _ swer it. At any rate there will be so much time gained. Give me your handkerthief— mine is red, Now go and see that the men are ready for anything that may turn up.” While hurriedly speaking, Markham knotting the doctor’s handkerchief upon the point of his saber, Lifting his arm, he an- swered the signal. Immediately a man arose from behind the black bowlder, and bearing the flag of truce, boldly advanced toward the barri- cade, Markham started sharply, and his florid countenance turned ashy white. In the being before him he recognized the man whom he be- lieved he had slain—his deadliest foe—the White Sioux! With a violent effort he mastered his eme- tions enough to ery aloud, in a hoarse, unnatural voice; “Halt! you are near enough. What is your wish?” ‘*You are Colonel Westley Markham!” came the words, clear and cold, ‘Good! and I am Leroy Temple!” ’ “A cashiered officer—a deserter—o murderer, traitor and renegade! You do well to cover your head with a flag of truce!” “There is one title you have forgotten,” and the White Sioux laughed, metallically. ‘I am an avenger, as well as the rest. But let that pass. I did not come here to bandy epithets with you, but to offer you terms for the lives of your men.” “Proceed; you are growing quite interest- ing,” sneered Markham. ‘Lhave just seventy-two braves, fit_for ser- vice, under my command, at present. You can see for yourself that their rifles command your position, and a very little reflection will show you that, if I say the word, they can pick obs off one by one, without running the sligh risk themselves.” “Tf this is so—which I_ deny—why are you taking so much trouble? bi to asin here and beg for what is your own? ! your state— ments are contradictory.” “You wish to know why? That is easy told. A chance bullet might cut you off—and I am not ready for you to die—yet.” Slowly these words were enunciated, and with such a deep, intense malignity that the sol- dier’s heart grew cold as_ he listened, ht. well he knew the meaning of his enemy. his voice was steady when he replied: ‘What terms do you olfer?” ‘ “The life of one man for those of a score. Your men are at liberty to depart, but they must first surrender yen into my hands,” was the prompt response, “You Tehalt take your answer_ straight from the lips of eit men,” and _ laughed, shortly. ‘‘You have heard, boys; you are free to ride away, if you will only give me over to that fellow. Speak out—and fs speak freely!” One ond ell of derision arose. Markham L grimly as ho again faced the White Sioux. “You have your answer. Go back to your red-skinned dogs and say that we dare them to come and take us!” The White Sioux made no answer in words, ree hate ee: of ayia igh pase his head, magic a slender igure appeared. upon an black bowlder—the figure of a white 1—ot Kate Markham, her arms stretched ap- pealingly toward the spot where her 1 stood. A bitter broke from the li his child, and realixed how as he recognizes helpless he was to aid her. Re a “ Man—devil!” he gasped. lease her—let her go free, unharmed, and I will surrender— under me, if you will, but i her!” P aa was ut e mt Your men may go free, our life and her life bel “i chie! to me. er boy gee se Markham eyed them, looking for, ing to rr gnize bis idolized daughter them; but in vain. If there, she was | which she stands, and ; bps hemor er word the’ ; and strod le 'y toward his | ae
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28 SSS | ‘ Dime Library. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE DEAD ALIVE, Wirn the angry hissing of the venomous ser- pent filing his ear—with the cold, clammy coil resting upon his bare neck and shoulder—with the soft point of earth crumbling beneath his feet, leaving him suspended by one arm, while the unconscious maiden hung across the other— there seemed no escape for the Sioux brave, Again, and in louder tones, came the wonder- ing call from above, but Blackbird dared make no reply. He felt that the serpent was in readi- ness tm strike—that the faintest sound, the | slightest motion, would hasten the venomous blow. Those few moments were ages of horri- ble torture. The warrior who had stood face to face with death a hundred times, now turned sick at heart. ‘* What in thunder’s the matter down thar?” repeated the voice from above, and the tightly- stretched lasso was shaken impatiently. The shock was too much for the cramped and tiffening fingers of Blackbird, and he slipped Irom his precarious foothold, falling swittly several feet before he could check his descent. Wis foot’struck against a small point of rock, ind this, added to the knowledge that almost rertain death awaited him below, lent him the strength necessary to check their fall, The shock came so suddenly that the rattlesnake was flung from Blackbird’s neck before it could use its deadly fangs. He heard the angry skirr below him, and firmly clutching the lasso, he called to his com- panion to draw him up. Though slowly, this was accomplished without further accident, and then Blackbird sunk down upon the narrow edge breathless, almost fainting after his silent but awful struggle against death. In silence, though evidently not a little puz- zled, his comrade bent over him for a few mo- ments, then turned to the unconscious maiden lying at his side, and removed the gag from her mouth, though holding his broad palm in readi- ness to smothey any outcry she might attempt. A moment later came the muffled but unmis- takable sound of firing and wild yells from be- yond the eastern rock of wall: Blackbird sat up, echoing back the cry of astonishment that broke from the lips of his comrade. “Tt’s from the outside—mebbe it’s the boys from the fort, got wind o’ this hole—they’ve run chuck into a hornets’ nest!” ** Hist! those hounds are awakened below! Not a word—listen!” muttered Blackbird. The sounds of fighting grew fainter and less distinct until the busy hum from the outlaws’ camp below was the only sound that rose above the brawling of the impetuous river. The camp- fires were blazing up brightly, and the move- ments of the excited outlaws were distinctly ‘visible to the two men. “What kin be keepin’ them red-skins?” im- patiently muttered the white man, ‘Lord! what a clean sweep they could make, now! Look—quick! by the big fire—it’s that. Ben Watson, by the Etarnal!” Without another word, Bill Comstock—for the reader has already recognized him—grasped the lasso and slid down the hillside, just as Leapah, the Sioux, broke cover and spud his foe. With breathless interest Blackbird watched the struggle that followed, his eyes riveted up- on the huge form of Baby Tom, his heart beat- ing quick as he drank in every detail of the ter- vific death-struggle which ended in the fall of the giant. As the dying gladiator fell, an un- conscious sigh parted his lips, and was answered by a low, gasping cry close beside him, Kate arkham had recovered her consciousness. Blackbird quickly but gently placed his hand over her lips, hurriedly muttering: **For the love of God, lady, do not scream! eur lives depend upon your prudence!” The red light from below penetrated the shrubbery and was reflected from his rude and bronzed form. A look .of sickening despair filled the maiden’s eyes. Blackbird read the meaning of thatexpression, and spoke, quickly: ‘“‘Tama friend, Miss Markham—I risked my life to rescue you from the hands of those ruf- fians. I do not wonder at your failing to re- eognize me in this disguise. Surely you can trust me—I am Happy Jack, your friend!” When John Markham—or Happy Jack, as he was far better known—held out his hands to Lieutenant Blake for the manacles—when he was led forth to die the death of a convicted murderer—when he made his last request of Colonel Markham, that after death his body re a be handed over to Bill Comstock for bu- rial—when he stood beside his coffin and bade the file of soldiers send their bullets home to his heart—when he bade Dr. Hurlbutt, as a final message, to proclaim that he died with his soul unstained by the crime for which he had been condemned—up to that moment etd Jack had composed his mind for death. He believed it to be inevitable—and yet he lived. All the time he had spent in schooling him- self to meet déath as a brave and innocent man ‘should, true and faithful friends were working steadily and deliberately for his life. Promi- ment among these was Dr, Hurlbuté and Ser- geant Bowen. Believing him innocent, despite | was an almost universal favorite. the overwhelming if circumstantial evidence, the moment sentence was pronounced, they began maturing their plans. Every precaution was observed. Not even Bill Comstock was taken into their confidence at first. They knew he could not keep thesecret from Happy Jack, and they feared that, if he knew what they intend- ed, he would refuse to play his part. Not until a few hours before that appointed for the execution, did Comstock have the glad tidings imparted to him. On pretense of tak- ing him along while he went to ‘‘cuss the old man,” Dr, Hurlbutt led him away from the guard-house and told him all, keeping a close watch over him lest he should betray the plot in his insane joy. But Bill proved himself a discreet coadjutor. Having full confidence in Martin, the scout, he enlisted his services, and to- gether they rigged up a condemned ambulance, in which to carry off the pretended corpse. Sergeant Bowen, to whom fell the duty of ni pee) the firing party, did his work well. t was not hard work to select men who were sary risk, for Happy Jack Even those who believed he had slain Stone, grumbled at the death sentence being passed upofi a man who had rid the army of a dangerous nuisance, The sergeant was iar too old a soldier to fall into the error of having his men load with blank cartridges. He knew that, even in the excite- ment of an execution, any practiced ear could easily detect the wide difference between a blank cartridge and one fired witha ball. Se- lecting reliable, steady-nerved men, he gave them orders to load regularly, but to aim so that their bullets would just miss the scout, up- on the left. By so doing, even the sharpest- eyed spectators, seeing the dust raised by the balls, could not tell that they had not passed through the scout’s body, instead of past, owing’ to their position, The reader will remember that Dr, Hurlbutt spoke a few rapid words to Happy Jack as he ainetk beside the coffin, which apna a mark- ed difference in the man’s demeanor. Those words told him what was about to be done, and bade him remember that on his acquiescence rested the fate of his frientls, as well. “Live to solve the mystery of Stone’s mur- der—live to clear your Own name!” concluded the surgeon, stepping aside. The volley was fired. Happy Jack fell as though dead, Stooping over ERY Dr. Hurlbutt emptied a small bottle of blood inside the scout’s shirt, slipping the bottle into his own breast, then arose and pronounced the man dead. It was to prevent a too closescrutiny that he flung the blanket over the prostrate figure, the mo- ment he felt that the spreading blood was no- ticed; and this dread alse accounted for the des- perate manner.in which Bill Comstock guarded the supposed corpse from even the eyes of the dazed and conscience-stricken father, In the ambulance Happy Jack was .conveyed to the valley where Honsora was waiting. Then came her part. By her advice Happy Jack allowed himself to be disguised as an In- dian. Then she led him to her father, telling him that these two men were those who had preserve! her honor, if not life. Assuming the name of Blackbird, Happy Jack accompanied the Sioux to Black Holey, resolved to rescue Kate—his half-sister—if mortal man could. Stealing away, after his rebuff by the White Sioux, he and Comstock scaled the hill and en- tered Black Hollow, with the result stated. ready to run the neces All this the scout told Kate, as they occupied the niche together, concealing nothing. “T could not bear that you should think me dead, or guilty of this crime,” he added. “T swear by the soul of my dead mother that I am innocent! That is all I care to live for now—I mean—” and he paused,-abruptly. ‘*T do believe Phe know you could not be so wicked,” said Kate, softly. ‘‘ But it is so strange! I never knew that I hada brother liv- ing. And yet—when I first saw you, I felt drawn toward’you—it must have been the voice of Nature—” “And I to you,” interrupted Jack, his voice not so steady as usual. “But with me it was different--I said in my heart .that it would be like heaven to gain one look of love from those eyes” At this moment the sharp crack of a rifle sounded from below, and a bullet sunk into the hill just above their heads. A loud voice came to their ears, and, glancing downward, Happy Jack discovered several d forms staring up- ward, threatening him with leveled rifles. Thoroughly conversant with the Sioux tongue, the scout had no difficulty in ee phe pp! the summons. He was threatened with instant death unless he descended at once. A single glance showed him that escape was impossible. The niche was not deep enough to protect their bodies from rifle-shots below. Covered by the shrubbery, the Sioux could pick him off with- out running the slightest risk themselves. ‘We must. descend—but trust to me. I will contrive to baffle them, yet. Remember—I am a stranger—a Sioux warrior,to you. Be silent, but brave-hearted.” Happy Jack assisted Kate down the hill, and joined the Sioux. At first they looked sus- piciously upon him, but he recalled the words of their chief, offering a large reward to the brave who should fetch him the white squay. ‘We willshare the reward,” he said, lauzhing, CHAPTER XXXV. EUNORA AND KATE. CLOSELY as aes 2 Jack watched for an op portunity to give his red-skinned companiong the slip, during their long and roundabout ride, he was disa sored he Sioux braves evi- dently placed little confidence in his sudden con- version from enmity to friendship, and there was never amoment but what one or more rifle muz- zles covered the scout’s person. It required all his self-control to keep from flying at the throat of the White Sioux, when the chief coldly gave his orders for the dispo sition of Kate Markham, in case his first pro- »0sition to the besieged should be rejected. His 1alf-formed resolve was not overlooked by the renegade, and in a cold though not unfriendly tone the chief spoke to him. ‘“Don’t tempt me to forget that lowe you a great debt, my friend. Not only am I grateful for the service you rendered my daughter, but I respect you as a brave, true-hearted enemy. But if my own children were to stand in the eee of my just vengeance, by the mother that ore them! I would strke them down with my own hand! If‘you are wise,” he added, in a hard tone, ‘if you are wise, you will with- draw and not mingle in this matter.” Happy Jack turned away, but not in simple obedience to the White Sioux. He caught a glimpse of a trim form and rarely beautiful face through the leafy boughs beyond—he saw a little brown hand timidly beckon to him; and hoping that Hunora, despite her passionate love for her father, could suggest some plan for libe- rating Kate, he obeyed the summons. veside the Jack at length came up with Eunor river-bank, where a luxuriant wild grape-vine festooned a small clump of saplings. The In- dian girl looked full into his eyes for a moment with an intentness far different from her usua demeanor while in his company, then spoke: “What is that white girl to you?” “She is my sister,” the scout replied, prompt- ly enough, though in evident surprise. ‘ That is, her father is my father, though our mothers were not the same.” “T- thought—I was afraid—’ and BHunora drooped her eyes, the hot blood mantling her rich cheeks. “She is my sister, and Ma! dear to my heart. Your father has called me his friend—he says he is grateful because I was once your friendin danger; yet he holds my sister captive, and say9 that she must die. When that hour comes, I, too, will die—but not alone, There will be many black faces among the Sioux.” “Then Eunora will die, too,” softly uttered the Indian maid. F ; song before this day, the handsome scout had learned that Eunora loved him, and more than once he had cout himself vaguely picturing a lifetime of wild simplicity in company with her. But-never since he first met with Kate. Though she was his sister, one look at her fair, proud face told him that there were higher and nobler walks in life than the one he was almost unconsciously gliding into; that, the life of a scout and Indian-fighter was not what his dead mother would have wished him to follow. There was no attempt at concealment in the lustrous eye of Eunora as they met his. She loved, and was proud of her love. Happy Jack saw this, and though he felt a sharp pang of compunction, he resolved to make use of this love as the last hope of preserving Kate ‘“‘No—you must live—the sun would lose its light were Eunora to die,” he said, softly. “‘ We are both too young to think o dying, while there remains a single ray of hope. I can steal my white sister away, Eunora must go - too. There will be room in our lodge for three. The days will be long and bright, and our love will make them pass like a dream—” “Ef them ’ar don’t fetch her heart plum up to her mouth, then it’s made o’ putty—that’s all!” and the legs of a man protruded throu, the leafy mass above, and their owner drop lightly to the ground. “Bill” exclaimed Happy Jack, astonished. “ Nothin’ shorter!” grinned the scout. “‘Sar- vent, miss! Sorry to_spile your pritty talk pard, but them durned vines give way afore f could think 0’ knockin’ to let ye know I was comin’. But ef [heard ary word you said, hope may die—!” “Never mind; I’m terms. I’ve been won mT Hit t Tie divin’ trip Ghrwugh to jist tuck a flyin’ trip nu ity ry— did so! Talk about chain lightnin’t a a can- non kin spit a feller out any quicker then that durned derrick spirted us two through yender hole, then you needn’t ever use me fer gun-wad- din’—not much!” - “You two? Did you pass through—” lad to meet yoy on any ring what on earth had “Waal, I should remark! Ef I hedn’t swaik lered so much water that I run aground, I'd ’a’ bin to Orleens afore sun-up!” Following the silently-flitting figure, Happy I : ai 7 i
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2°0 & waeta around : tench them. * Happy Jack, earnestly. _ tive. a ars —ae > The Long Haired ‘Pards.’ Comstock seemed in an unusually loquacious mood, but a few adroit questions soon extracted the pith of his adventures. He and Ben Wat- ton, tightly locked in each other’s arms, were swept through the tunnel at frightful speed, and drawn into the same eddy from which Baby Tom had drawn Kate Markham, some days before. Though bruised and breathless, Comstock man- aged to craw] ashore, still holding his prey; but when he recovered a little, to his dismay he found that Ben Watson was dead—his skull horribly crushed where it had come into con- tact with a sunken rock. Believing that some of the Sioux had seen him strike down the In- dian in Black Hollow, he dared not attempt to rejoin them, and feeling too crippled to scale the hill again to rejoin his friend, he sought re- fuge among the grape-vines, to wait for dark- ness to cover his movements. In return Happy Jack informed Comstock of all that had occurred since their parting, and pictured the peril that threatened ate, in vivid colors. Drawing close together, the trio earn- estly discussed the situation and sought to devise some plan for rescuing the maiden. — “Tf there was only more time—if we could only have this night to work in!” muttered Happy Jack. “It is a slim chance, but if all else Pails, I will try to carry her off by a dash, Simoom!” on has would be certain death,” interposed Eunora, ‘If she only knew that we were try- ing to aid her—but she will be watched closely, I could not get to speak—” Pips ‘“Covid you give hera note—a word of writing “ Perhaps—l| will try. - It must be small—just pn word. Scratch it upon a leaf. Tell her to make believe faint—to be very ill. If she can play a part, I think I can manage the rest. Let me think—!” mused Eunora. Smothering his anxiety, as best he could, Happy Jack scratched the words indicated upon a small, smooth leaf; and waited. Ina few mo- ments the Indian girl lifved her head and spoke: “You must watch me closely, but be Sharer If I can manage, as I hope, there will be little danger. When I make.a motion—so, you must lead your horse down to drink. You will be watched, it islikely. Let him drink, then lead him back, slowly, as close to me as possible, When I give you the sign, place her upon your . horse and flee for life.” “Ef ’twas me, I know mighty well which Gatien: a run away with!” muttered Com- kk, with what sounded very like a sigh, as Tien, bearing the talking-leaf, turned and glided away from the natural arbor. , «She is a noble girl—God bless her!” said “But you, Bil—I’m afraid you'll have to lay low until dark. | itd succeed in carrying off my sister, this will be like a hornets’ nest, sure!” “Nor they won't be no Injun gals fool enough ‘to try to me out o’ trouble, nuther,” laughed . Bill, but with an evident effort. The bright eyes of Eunora had touched his heart deeply. “You never mind me; you’ll hey your han’s full with her. Ef you do git her car, what next? ‘You cain’t sca’cely take her to the fort—” Happy Jack made no reply, for an Indian was seon approaching, and Comstock quickly crawl- ed up into his former hiding-place, while his friend passed through and then rounded the clump as though just coming from the river. Putting on a mask of moody unconcern, the scout slowly returned to the broken ground where the Indians ago guard over the intrench- ed soldiers, though the truce was rigidly ob- served, otherwise. Taking a position where he could overlook the bowlder, beneath which, bound hand and foot, Kate sat, he awaited the denovement of Eunora’s plans. ¢ She was conversin:; mash’ with the White Sioux, and then finally passed before the cap- Eunora seemed scrutinizing her closely and curiously, then, with a little laugh, she turned away. As she did so, the leaf dropped, face up, upon Kate’s lap, and the significant swords met her astonished eyes. For an instant she seemed puzzled—then Eunora cast back a ift, saning glance, and Kate knew that aR paler scheme afoot for her relief. — A few moments later she fell upon her side, with a gasping, gurgling cry, and when Eunora and her father hastened back, the captive lay rigid, her face distorted, blood tinging her lips, like one in’a fit, So well did Kate play her part that for a few moments even Hunora was deceived 7 ‘Help mecarry her overyonder. There is no danger. She hay only ae ie terror and fatigue,” explained the Indian girl. . ; Covertly Happy Jack watched for the signal. He led his horse to the river, as directed, and _ saw, to his joy, thathe was not followed, though evidently watched, k iaeinny a few minutes he an oy iy Sg ble 8, pausing every few to allow Sim a moueata oe and a and gradually edg- ing toward Eunora. Row that the crisis was 80 near, his brain was clear, his nerves as dy ag iron. With a careless glance he selected the best course to take, and saw with satisfaction bullet could that a dozen of Simoom’s bounds would f the rise, where no 29 =o Eunora made the agreed upon signal, then turned her back. Happy Jack led Simoom on —then sprung to Kate's side, and lifting her in his arms, leaped into the saddle and cheered Si- moom on, bending low down and shielding Kate with his own body, as angry yells and whistling bullets told that his bold attempt at rescue was discovered. CHAPTER XXXVI. THROUGH NIGHT TO LIGHT. “COLONEL,” said Dr. Hurlbutt, gently touch- ing the commander upon the shoulder as he sat buried in deep, troubled thought, ‘‘ Private Obermeyer is'sinking fast—dying, in fact. But he says there is something weighing upon his mind that he must get rid of—he asked me to beg you would just step over to him for a mo- ment. From what he let drop, I fancy it con- cerns the murder of Captain Stone—” Colonel Markham visibly winced at these words. Though he had stubbornly strove to hide his real emotions, the knowledge that he had condemned his own son to die a shameful death was bitter, indeed. Arising, he followed the surgeon to where the dying soldier lay. “The colonel is here, Walt,” said Hurlbutt, and the man’s eyes opened with a wild, half- dazed stare. ‘Tell him what you have to say.: Put it short and clear, for your name will soon be called, and you'll be off duty forever!” “You needn't go, Doc,” gasped Obermeyer, painfully. ‘I can tell you easier than him, though I didn’t know, until too late, how hard I was hitting him. Let me confess to you—but let him listen. It’s about that black day—Hap- Ry J ack was innoeent—I shot Captain Lawrence tone !’ Though his first words had in a measure, pre- pared them for this, Obermeyer’s confession ex- torted sharp, indignant exclamations from both Markham and Hurlbutt. But the dying man attempted no apology, In feeble, broken sen- tences, he made a full confession, clearing up every doubtful point, leaving not the shadow of a doubt remaining in the minds of his hearers— for now the other soldiers had drawn around him—as to the utter innocence of Happy Jack. The substance of his story may be condensed into a few lines. Several years before, Ober- meyer had been a private in Captain Stone's company, and by some means had fallen into the ill graces of the petty tyrant, who managed to make the soldier’s lifea perfect hell on earth, until he finally deserted, and enlisted in another regiment, knowing that, if discovered, this re- enlistment would render his punishment lighter. But then Captain Stone himself was transferred to that very regiment, and though he did not appear to recognize Obermeyer, the soldier knew that this could only be a matter of time, He was right. Discovery came on that after- noon when he, in company with Stone, was searching for the lost trail, Yet even then he had no idea of committing murder to save him- self. He fell to the rear—then the temptation came, Captain Stone discovered Ben Watson, and called upon him to surrender, but the out- law raised his pistol to shoot. At that moment Obermeyer was pecans Stina a huge mass of rock—unconscious that APPY Jack was direct- ly opposite, with only the bowlder separatin, them. He saw ay aio Stone about to fire, an believing he could throw the burden of guilt upon the shoulders of the outlaw, he raised his pistol and discharged the fatal shot. At the very same instant Happy Jack fired at Watson, but his bullet missed, as the outlaw fell, wound- ed by the captain’s ball. Obermeyer saw the scout leap forward, and hastily retreated, only coming up when he saw the others draw near. His agency was never suspected, and through love of life he suffered events to take their course, and another man to undergo the punish- ment he alone deserved. ie There was a dead silence after Obermeyer concluded his confession, for allsaw that he was fast dying. Only for that, he would have fared illat the hands of the soldiers; not because he had killed Lawrence Stone, but for the death— as they believed—of Ha: Py. Jack. Colonel Markham looked like a man who had just listened to his own death semtence—crushed and broken down, The surgeon, relenting, was about to make his confession, when a wild tu- mult arose among the Sioux. Though the be- sieged little suspected it, this was caused by the bold rescue of Kate Markham by Happy Jack. “Lie close, boys!” shouted” Hur Batt, and right well it was that themen promptly obeyed, for with a rattling volley, the savages, led by the White Sioux, broke cover and impetuously charged upon the breastwork. Stern and deadly work ensued. Rapidly tho rifles and pistols of the soldiers vomited forth their contents, but seen the Indians charged, though leaving some of their number at every step. Right up to the breastwork they charged —and then came the hot werk hand to hand. The White Sioux ra; like a very fiend of battle. But while his heavy saber dealt death on every side, his shrill voice was heard above the frightful din, warning his braves to spare the life of Colowel AevEiein though they slew all others. : we. _ The soldiers wore terribly outnumbered, ard though they fought as only men ean who knoy: that they must conquer or die, there couk* scarcely be a doubt as to the ultimate ending at’ that unequal conflict. One by one were they falling, dead or dying. The bloodthirsty Sioux: were pressing them hardly, hemming them iu until there was scant room to swing a saber All seemed lost, when— . A ringing cheer rent the air, and two-score horsemen, led ay Happy Jack upon his gallant Simoom, thundered around the curve and plunged into the melee. With a hoarse yell ef ary the White Sioux leaped upon Markhann and plunged his knife to the hilt in his bosom-- the next moment being fairly spitted upon the sword of Lieutenant Blake. “ Alive? then bring him here,” faintly uttered Colonel Markham, as Hurlbutt answered his question concerning the White Sioux. Fast sinking, yet with mind clear, the white chief was laid beside hismortal enemy, who was xreparing to enter upon the same dark trail. farkham feebly raised himself upon one elbow, and after gazing earnestly, sadly, upon the wreck before him, spoke earnestly; ‘I have sinned heavily against you, Leroy Temple, and now, in the presence of death, ay humbly beg your forgiveness, I have been a hard, cruel man, and yet—I have cared for your child as for m y, own—more!” The White Sioux strove to speak, but the ho! blood filled his throat. There was a wild, eage: look p his eyes that Markham readily inter preted. : ‘‘Hear me out. I am dying, and you shall hear nothing but the truth. The story you heard about your wife was not all truc—thovgh she did die in giving birth to a child. She was oor and had no near friends. It was easy work re me, Ihad her buried. I hired the eopla to tell you that both she and her child had died. But it lived. I carried it away, and had it raised and educated as my own daughter. Tn its face I could trace the likeness of her—my God! how I loved her!” “She lives—your—my daughter? not that one,” gasped the White Sioux, but the exertion cost him dear. The black blood burst from his lips and his head fell back a lifeless weight. “He is dead—God rest his soul!” solemnly pronounced Dr. Hurlbutt, arising. “Be kind to her, John,” faintly whispered the dying soldier. “She has been the li ht of my life. ard and cruel asI have been, I might’ have been even worse only for her gentle influence.” Happy Jack and te Temple—brother and sister no lenges ies beside the blood-stained pallet, their hands clasped ‘in his, Feebly, un- certainly Colonel Markham drew their hanes together, pressing them down upon his fast- failing heart. And thus they were when the daylight faded; when the stars grew brighter in the great vault overhead; when the round moon arose and cast its silvery sheen over thc scene. And the white fingers clasped above theirs grew colder and whiter, and then they knew that they were orphans, indeed. ’ A few more words, and rest is yours, reader, Martin the scout must be thanked for bring- ing up the reinforcement in time to change de- feat into victory. While out, scouting, he espied the war-party of the White Sioux, and stealing close, had heard the words of the chief. Knowing that Colonel Markham intended rid- ing to ‘+k Hollow, he hastened to the fort with his warning, but spraining his ankle he failed to reach there until late at night. No more time was lost, and mounting, the soldiers rode hard, guided by Martin. Jus before reach- ing the spot they met Happy Jaak. PI Kate in a place of safety, he led the charge, with the result peeeey. recorded, ; Happy Jack had but one more interview with Eunora, the Indian girl. He urged her to make her future home with him and her half-sister, but Eunora firmly refused. She knew that he could only give her a brother’s love, and frank- ly told him the ‘sight of another's filling the mate she had hoped to fill, would be worse than eath to her. Resisting all persuasions, she re- turned to her mother’s ple, with Kenekuk, her brother--who, embittered by his father’s death, is now fighting under Sitting Bull. ' In due time Happy’ Jack end Kate were united, and are now living a quiet life upon a Colorado ranch, which the en left by Colo- nel Markham amply stocked. But, happy as the scout is, there often comes a cloud over his tes as he thinks of his true-hearted ‘“ pard,” ill Comstock, whose presence is alone wanted to Sei amt the measure of his Ves ar y dl e died in Bill Comstock—heart-of harness, carrying dispatches where no other man dared venture. whose hand he fell no | man but those who murdered him know. When his body was discovered he had been dead for many days. | Though his grave is unmarked and stead 9 Sis aster, nek Sal eee or, ill- scou into hearts of all. thowe who ever knew rs cn you will find his monument.
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e ett) BEADLE’S«H ALF- DIME« 7 IBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. ose BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels, 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Deadwood Dick’s Detiance; or, Double Daggers. “id pen weoe ee - a umaISey Se; Buffa)s Ben. eadwoo ek In » Castle. 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; or, The Phantom Miner. 49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; or, Omana Ol. 57 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity 4 ine, the Heroine 10 Deadwood Dick in Leadvilley) nn diwoo ck in Leadville. aaa pesewany meee oes lee; ris The Double Cross Sign. end woo ck an Detective. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost. 188 Deadwood Dick’s Home Baxe} or, Blonde Bill. 149 Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. 156 Deadwood Diek of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dreamy or, The Rivals of the Road. 201 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. Dick’sa Doowt or, Calamity Jane’s Adventure, Dick’« Dend Deal. Dick’s Death-Plant. Dick, A Romance of Roughs and Tovgha, Dick’s Divide; or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. Dick's Dentn Tralh, Dick’s Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. Dick’a Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats Dick’a D #3 or, Days in the Diggings. Dick Sen ed; or, The Terrible Vendetta. Vick’s € 05 Deadwood 37 Deadwood 221 Deadwooa 282 Gold-Duat 268 Deadwood 268 Deadwood 809 Deadwood 821 Deadwood 847 Deadwood 851 Deadwood 862 Deadwood 405 Deadwood 410 Deadwood 421 Deadwood 480 Deadwood 448 Deadwood 448 Deadwood 458 Deudwood 459 Deadwood 465 Deadwood 471 Deadwood 476 Deadwood 451 Deadwood 49L Deadwood 496 Deadwood 500 Deaawooa alm. Dick In Dead City. Dick’s Diamonds. Dick in New York },or, A “Cute Case.” Diek’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand. Dick, dr.3 or, The Crimson Crescent Sign. Dick, Jr.’«, Deflance. Dick, Jr’ Full Wand. Dick, Jr.’a, Big Round-Up, Dick Jr.’s Racket at Claim 10, Dick, Jr.’a Corral; or, Bozeman Bill. Dick, Jr.’s, Dog Detective, i Jdr., In Deady eod, Jr.’s, Compact. Dick, Jr2a Dt Jr.’«, Inheritance, nga. 508 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, De Verance. G15 Deadwood Dick Jr.« Protegee. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Three, 529 Vendwood Dick, Jr.’s, Danger Dacka, 5684 Deadwood Diek, Jr.’«, Death Hunt, 639 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Texna. r 544 Deadwood Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidocg 549 Deadwooa Dick, Jr., on Hin Mettle, 554 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Boston. 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Philadelphia, 572 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago. 575 Deadwood Dick. Jr,. Afloat. 554 Deadwooo Dick. vr.. in Denver. 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Decree. 595 Deadwood Dick Jr., In Reelzebub’s Basin, 600 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Coney Island, 606 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«, Leadville Lay 612 Deadwood Dick, Jr., tn Detrolt. 618 Deadwood Dick. Jr. in Otneinnatt. 624 Dendwood 680 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in N 486 Deadwood a. Dick, Jr., in No Man’a Land. Dick, Jr., Atter th ° 642 Deadwood Dok’ Jr.. In gr ihe Queer. an peaerans pieks ee RB Re Pg sl a et ges ead woo ick, Jr., Amon ) r 660 Deadwood Dilek, ore Tusurance Onsen ar 666 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Back in the Mines. 672 Deadwood Dick, Jr., tn Durangos or, * Gathered In.” Uitesiven wadceme Te 690 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dollara. 695 Deadwood Dick. Jr., at Danger Divide, 700 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Drop. TZO04 Veadwood Dick, Jr., at Jack-Pot. Z10 Deadwood Dick Jr., in San Franclaco. 716 Deadwood Dick, Iria Still Hunt. 722 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s Dominoes, 728 Dendwood Dick, Jr.’a Diagulae, 784 Deadwood Dick. Jr.'s, Double Deal. 740 Deadwood Dick Jr.’«. Deathwateh, TAT Dendwood Dick Jr.’#, Voublet. T52 Deadwood Vick, Jr.’s, Deathblow, 75S Dendwood Dick, Jr.’a Desperate Strait, %64 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Lone Hand, TT0 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a Detent. 76 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Resurrection. Deadwooa Dick. Jr's Dark Days. 397 Deadwood Mek, si eet Deadw Mick, Jr. In Silver Pocket, SY9L Deadwood Dick. Jr.’s, Dead-Sure Game. 898 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Double Drive, 904 Dendwood Dick, Jr.'s, Trade-Mark. 910 Deadwood Dick, | T 916 Deadwood Dick, Diek, J. 940 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Shake-up. 5 jad Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«, Double Drop. 5t Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Right Bower. ST Dendwood Dick, Jr.’«, Ten-Strike. 965 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Gold-Dust. OTL Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Oath, PTT Deadwood Dick, Jr.’% Death-Doom. 986 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Best Card, 992 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at_ Gold Dust. 198 Dendwood Dek, Jr, Big Play. 1005 Deadwood Dick, Jr.» Brande: 101L Desdwo-d Dek, Je’. Dutch Pard. 1015 Dendwood Bie-, J .’«, Big Four. BY 7, J. FLANAGAN. . : in 9D J: Eros the ivateer Rover. 014 Middy Ned, tke Runaway. | | } ; 1 Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents, by all Newsdealers.. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 80 Rosebud Rob; or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Rosebud Kob on Mand; or, [dy!, the Girl Miner. 88 Rosebud Rob's Reappearance; or, Photograph Phil. 121 Rosebud Rob’s Challenge; or, Cinnamon Chip. 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen; or, The Yankee’s Surround 281 Denver Doll’s Victory; or, Skul! and Crossbones. 285 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little BUNs Bonanza. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or. The Road Queen. 868 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherers or, The Life Lottery, 872 Yreka Jdim’s Prize; or, The Wolves of Wake-Up. t 885 Yreka Jim's Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nese. 8094 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam, 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective; or, Dot Le 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloc Hunter 244 Slerra Sam, the Frontier Ferret; or, A er’s Devotion. 245 Sierra Sams Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 255 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Ange! of Big Vista. 258 Sierra Sam’s Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner. 889 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket; or, The Pride of Played-Out. 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York. 96 Watch-Eye, the Detective; or, Arabs and Angels, 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Datective 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 226 The Arab Detective ; or, Snoozer, the Boy Sharp, 291 Turk the Boy Ferret. 825 Kelley, Mickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia, 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Detective. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Wat Warry, the Base Ball Detective. 426 Sam Slabalidea, the Beggar-Boy Detective, 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon; or, The Border Vultures, 82 Bob Woolt’; or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand. 58 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team 92 Canada Chet ; or, Ol Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 118 Jack Hoyle the Young Speculator. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner; or, Madam Mystery, the Forger. 188 Bossa Bob the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent; or, The Branded Brows. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scampa. 181 Wild Frank the Buckskin Bravo; or, Lady Lily’s Love. 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado; or, Rowdy Kate. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator; or, The Locked Valley. 278 Jumbo Joey the Boy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs. 880 Little Quick-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggeraville. 858 First-Class Fred, the Gent from Gopher, 878 Nabob Ned3 or, The Secret of Slab City. 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain” Vengeance, 488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher; or, A Son’s Vengeance. 486 Sealakin Sam, the Sparkier; or The Tribunal of Ten. 918 Kit Keith, t ¢ Revenue Spotter. 922 Sol Sharpe, the New_York Night-Hawk. 948 Ola Hayseed Among Bunco Men, 1001 Banty, the Denver Bootbiack, BY J. C. COWDRICK. 490 Broudway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 514 Broadway Billy’s Boodle; or, Clearing aStrange Case, 586 Broadway Billy’a ‘Ditiktity.” 557 Broadway Billy’s Peath Racket. 579 Broadway Billy’s Surprise Party. 605 Broadway Billy; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning, 628 Broadway Billy’« Dead Acty or, The League of Seven. 669 Brondway Billy Abroad; or, The Bootblack in Frisco. 675 Broadway Billy’« Beat; or, Beating San Francisco's Finest, 687 Broadway Billy In Clover. 696 Broadway Billy in Texas; or, The River Rustlers, 708 Brondway Billy’« Brand, 711 Broadway Billy at Santa Fe; or, The Clever Deal. 720 Broadway Billy’s Full Wand: or, The Gamin Detective. 785 Broadway Billy’« Business. etle Game, 788 Broadway Billy’« Curious Case, Broadway Billy tn Denver. ae presi was Billy’« Bargains or, The Three Detective. roadway Billy, the Retriever Detective. 775 Broadway RBilly’s Shadow Chase. The Trio’s Quest. he Combine’s Big Pall. 86 &ilver-Mask, the Man of Mystery; or, The Golden Keys, B69 Shaata, the Gold King; or, ForSeven Years Dead, 420 The Detective’ Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a Name, 424 OClbuta Jonny}; or. -Hot Times at Ante Bar. 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude. 506 Redlight Ralph. the Prince of the Road, 524 The Engineer Detective; or, Redlight Ralph’s Resolve 548 Mart, the Nicht Express Detective. B71 Atr-Line Luke the Young Engineer; or, The Double Case 592 Vhe Boy Pinkerton; or, Ronning the Raseals Out. 615 Fighting Harry the Chief of Chained Cyclone. 640 Bareback Beth, the Centaur of the Circle, 647 Tyvewrlter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgan the * Pizenest ’? Man of Ante Bac. 887 Battery Bob. the Dock Detective. 894 Arizona Dick's W ipe-Out. 900 Jumping Jack’ Jubilee. 906 Satety Samy the Cyele Sport. 912 Train Boy Trist’« Mot Hustle, 918 The Trump Wece tar 924 Bly Boot« Bob, the Vire-Laddle. 980 Ruatler Ralph, the Boy Spotter. 985 The Ex-Newshboy Detective’s Chum. 941 The Bowling Green Detective’s Drop. 944 Cowboy’ Charlie's Double. 947 The Bowery W restler; or, The Butcher-Boy’s Backer. 958 Paddy's Trump Card; of, Silver Sallle, the Girl Sport, way Sports: or, Flyer Fred’s Clear ‘eward; or, The Rival Reporters’ Sleek illy, the Corker-Ferret. 978 Plucky Pat, the Street-Boy Detective. 989 Bicycle Bob’s Hot Scorch, 997 Reoreker Sam, the Detective on Wheels. 1004 Scorcher Sum’s Sweep-Stake s. 1009 xe Girl ©, clis’s Wenning Hand. BY WILLIAM PERRY BROWNE. 956 Brooklyn Rob’« Bulge; or, Dodger Dot’s Diamond Snap. 968 The East-Side Spotter: or, Turning Down the Big Thre 974 Old Sant’s Dark Deal: or, Miner Mat’s Iron Grip, 1015 The Keporter-Detee\ive’s Big Pull. Scoop. | BUFFALO BILL NOVELS. | BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM. : | 1018 Buffalo Bill’< Texas Team. | 1007 Buffalo Bills Sure-Shots. : | 1000 Buffalo Bill's Deeoy Boys. "4 995 Buffalo Bill’s Drop; or, Dead-Shot Ned , the Kansas Kid, | 98S Bulfalo Bill’s Lasso Throwers. | 981 Buffalo Bill's Fighting Five. 975 Buffalo Bill's Hifle S ots, 968 Buffalo BUls Kush Ride; or, Sure-Shot, the FRED EN ete 964 Buffalo Bis Decoy ; or, The Arizona Crack Shot, 958 Buffalo Bill’s Mazeppa-Chase, 4 948 Buffalo BIW’s Snap-Shot 3 or, Wild Kid's Texan Tally 942 Buffalo Bill’s Tough Tussle. 986 Buffalo Bil’a Boy Mascots or, Joe Jarvis’ Hold-up, 929 Buffalo BUls Crack-shot Pard. 650 Buffalo BUVs Boy Pard; or, Butterfly Billy. 216 Bison BIL, the Prince of the Reine. 222 Bison Bill’« Clue: or. Grit, the Bravo Sport, BY BUFFALO BILL. 55 Deadly-Eye. the Unknown Scout; or, The Banded Brotherhood 68 Border Robin Hoods or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Faney Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’s Trust. 1029 The Phantom Spy. BY CAPT, ALFRED B, TAYLOR, U. 8, A, 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Buffalo Bill's Bet; The Gambler Guide, ep a een foo ESSE OES POs l wis le cle cleale cle de sle le Teche tke tote BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 1081 The Texan Hustlers in Cuba. 1027 The Cowboy Raiders in Cuba 1025 The Flying \ ankee or, The Ocean Outcast. 1028 The Cowboy Clan in Cua. 1016 The Boy Buogle- in Cuba. * 982 New York Nat’s Drop: or, Ex-Ferret Sykes’ Bold Gane 926 New York Nat and the Traitor Ferret, .920 New York Nat ‘Trapped. 5 914 New York Nav’s ‘Three of a Kind. 908 New York Nat’« Double, 902 New York Nat’s in Colorado. 896 New York Nat in Gold Nugget Camp. 889 New York Nat’s Deadly Deal, S88 New York Nat’s Crook-Chase. S77 New York Nat’s Trump Card, STL New York Nat and the Grave Ghouls. 865 New York Nat’« Masked Mascot. 859 New York Nat, the Gamin Detective, S55 Dick Doom’« Hidnaneer Knock-Out. 847 Dick Doom’s Ten Strike. 842 Dick Doom’s Flush Hand. 772 Dick Doom’s Death-Grip; or, The Detective by Destiny. W7TZ Vick Doom’s Deatinys; or, The River Blackleg’s Terror, 784 Dick Doom; or, the Sharps and Sharks of New York. 788 Dick Doom in Boston; or, A Man of Many Maske. 798 Dick Doom tn Chicago. _ | 298 Dick Doom in the Wild Weat. 808 Dick Doom’s Clean Sweep; or, Five Links in a Clue, 808 Dick Doom’s Death Clue. 818 Dick Doom’s Diamond Deal. 819 Dick Doom’s Girl Mascot, 829 Dick Doom’s Shadow Hunt. 885 Dick Doom’a Big Heul. x 749 Dashing Charlies or, The Kentucky Tenderfoot’s First Trali, 756 Dashing Charlic’s Destiny; or, The Renegade’s Captive, T6860 Dashing Charlie’s Pawnee Pard. 766 Dashing Charlie, the Rescuer. 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys, 78T Buck Taylor, the Comanche’s Captive. - 748 Buck Taylor's Boy; or, The Red Riders of the Rio Granda, Ana Fifty Others. BY LIEUT,. A. K, SIMS. 5S9 Tom-Cat and Pards or, The Dead Set at Silver City. 622 Tom-Cat’s Triad; or, The Affair at Tonibstone. 681 Tom Cat's Terrible Task; or, The Cowboy Detective 688 Tom-Cat’s Triumph; or, Black Dan’s Great Combine. 546 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock; or, Josh’s Ten Strike, 568 The Dandy of Dodge; or, Rustling for Millions, \ 576 The Silver Sport: or, Josh Peppermint’s Jubilee, 688 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow 3 601 Happy Hana, the Dutch Videcg; or, Hot Timesat Round-Up 611 Bilana Barnacle, the Detective Hercules. 646 Cowboy Gidy the Cattle-Range Detective. 657 Warbling William the Mountain Mountebank, 665 Jolly Jeremiah, the Plains Detective, 676 Slenal Sam, the Lookout Scout. tity, the Gypsy Spy: or, The mvsiery ot Two Lives, 699 Simple Sim, the Broncho Buster: or, For Big Stakes, 712 The Meamerist Sports or, The Mystified Detective, %88 Toltec Tom, the Mad Prospector, 745 Kanans Jim the Cross-Cut Detective, 761 Marmaduke, the Mustanger Detective. Fie Pes tree ated on me Han oe the Comm le 801 Kent Kirby, the High-Kicker trom Killbuek, Bee Th khonmen ‘Detectiven In Colorado. wo Showmen Petectly 987 The Texan Firebrand; or, Brazos Billy’s Snap.Shot, + 961 The Tramp’s Trump-Trick. NEW ISSUES. 1044 The New York Sharp. By Ben D. Halliday. 1045 Mustang Merle’s Mine, By Maj. Sam. S, Scott, Plume, the Boy Bandit, or, Buffalo Bill, the Pony SPAS Sa Rider.’ By Col, Prentiss Ingrabam. 1047 Flyer Fred, the Cyclist Ferret. By Roy Rockwood, 1048 The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt. By Waring, 1049 Queen Edna of the Panthers By Wm. R. Eyster, 1050 The One-Armed Sport. By T.C Harbaugh. 1051 The Boy Hercules. By Ol! Coomess JUST ISSUED. . . pa Cireus, By Arizona Cy. oe, Jord Tre Sota Witeh’s Bhadower, By Col. P. Ingrnham. _ 1085 Antelope Abe, the Bov Guide, By Oll Coomes. : 1086 Dandy Dick’« Double. By Rebert R. Inn an. 1087 The Art fat Detective, By Col. P. Ingraham. } « Ki ‘or, The Red Right Hand. By Buffalo Bille joss pane Waele) the Boy Rancher. By Maj S S. Scotts 1040 Ruffalo Rill’s Fer Patrol. By Col. Pe lngabanis fe 1041 Cowboy Chris to the Fore By Wm. W. Wilder, 1042 + ittle Grit, the Pony Express Rider. By Col. Ingraham, © 1048 \ ou Het Bob from Cross Crick. By Arizona Cy. — i A New Issue Every ‘Tuesday. ‘The Malf-Dime Library is for sale by all newadealers, Sve conte per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, : Oy BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, — t 92 William Street, New Yorke
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a ee See . | Published Every Wednesday. —_—— BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. } 928 Old Sobersides, the Detective of St. Louis. | 925 White-Horse Wheeler, the Revenue Detective. , 918 The Double Edged Detective. 907 Maverick Mark. the Man from Nowhere. 898 Silky Steele, the Stay-in Sport. | 884 The Spotter-Sport’s Neck-Tie Party. $70 High-Water Mark; or, Silver-Tip Sid. 862 Riata Rob, the Range Champion, 855 The C.whoy Chief’s Sure-Shot. 848 por — Red-Hat Sports. ( Surly Kid, the Cheyenne Sport. | 824 The Soft Hand Detcetive, : 815 The Soft Hund’s Clutch. | 809 Dan Dunn, the Soft-Hand Sport. 796 The Frisco Detective’s Thug-Tangle. 789 Sam Cary, the River Sport. | ‘%80 The Dead Sport's Double. | 4% Prince John, Detective Special. 763 Dandy Don, the Denver Detective. 754 ‘the Man from Texas; or, Dangerfield, | Doctor Detective. 744 Sweepstakes Sans, the Silver Sport. 720 The Secret Six; or, O.d Haleyon. | 72 The Man of Silk. : : 705 Bantam Bob, the Beauty from Butte. 693 Kent Kasson, the Preacher Sport. | 3 Bob Breeze, the Rounder Detective. | 6% Steel Surry, the Sport fri m Sunrise. 668 Solemn Saul’s Luck Strcak _ 661 The Get-There Sharp. | 651 Silvertip Steve, the Sky Scraper from Siskiyou. 645 Gopher Gabe, the Unseen Detective, 636 Dandy Darling, Detective. 627 Mossback Mose, the Mountaineer. 617 The Grip-Sack Sharp’s Even up. 597 Big Bandy, the Brigadier of Brimstone Butte, 588 Sandy Sands, the Sharp from Snap City. 576 Silver-Tongued Sid; or, eye Sack Sharp's Sweep. 564 The Grip-Sack Sharp; or, The Seraphs of Sodom. 555 Grip-Sack Sid, the Sample Sport. S47 The Buried Detective; cr, Saul’s Six Sensations. 541 Major Magnet, the Man of Nerve. 535 Dandy Dutch, the Decorator from Dead-Lift 527 Dandy Andy, the Diamond Detective. 514 Gabe Gunn, the Grizzly from Ginseng, 504 Solemn Saul, the Sad Man from San Saba, 495 Rattlepate Rob; or, The Roundhead’s Reprisal 488 The Fe, the ag Sport. 474 Daddy Dead-lnye, the Despot of Dew Drop. 466 Old Rough and Ready, the Sage of Sundown 458 Duteb Dan. the Pilgrim from Spitzenberg. 43 A Cool Hand; or, Pistol Johnny’s Picnic. 438 Oklahoma Nick. 33 Laughing Leo; or, Sam’s Dandy Pard. 426 The Ghost Detective; or. The Secret Service Spy. 416 Monte jim, the Black Sheep of Bismarck. 409 Rob Roy Ranch; or, The Imps of Pan Handle, 103 The Nameless Sport. : 395 Deadly Aim, the Duke of Derringers. 887 Dark Durg. the Ishmael of the Hills. 872 Captain Crisp, the Man with a Record. % A Royal Flush; or, Dan Brown’s Lig Game. 860 Jumping Jerry, the Gamecock from Sundown. 355 Stor ay Steve, the Mad Athlete. 351 Nor’ West Nick, the Border Detective. the x | | { | : . | 257 Death Trap Di 9. pischane fount 20) Pirate of the Placers; or, Jo i = Qld Mt or. ‘The Amazon of x ak 4 rege Hunt am, the Tray 165 Joaquin, the Terrible 4: Sev 154 Joaquin, the Saddle King. 141 Equinox Tom, the Bul'y of Rea Rock, — 119 Alabama Joe; or, The Yazoo Man-Hunters, 105 Dan Brown of Denver; or, The Detective, 88 Big George; or. The Five Outlaw Brothers, g gem neo Blade: oF Mississippi Man Shark. e Boy Jockey; or, Honesty vs. Croo z 50 Jack Rabtnt, tne Prairie Sporn ; ey snare BY WM. G. PATTEN. $10 Fire-Eye, the Thug’s Terror. 795 Old Night-Hawk, the Crook Shadower. 768 The Prine of New York Crooks, %56 Old Burke, the Madison Square Detective, 747 Double-voice Dan’s Double Disguise, a pam Eins on we : % Double-Voice Dan, the Always-on-Deck Det 696 Double-Voice Dan, the Goit Alone evecare 689 The Sparkler Sharp. 663 The Giant Shows or, Sold to Satan. ‘ gly. the Rough and Ready, 910 The Arizona Detective, } _ 894 Silver Sam, the Sh: i. po ver | port's Boubls. i ; Ht ; ¥ : } 856 The Hayseed Detective ; m 772 pe Corden, the Twister Detective, 755 Wild Pete. the Broncho-Buster Detective. Y f Fearless Sam, the Brand Combination Detective, : a ie TY «Te pees Grip, the Pendartoor Detective, ie tective, b PDiAY Ann BS Seep Hye, the Pacific Detective, 2 o4 + | 218 200° BY WILLIAM R. EYSTER, 916 Two Dead-Square Sports. ~ 902 Soft Velvet, the Man from Sandrock. 891 Genteel Jim, Sport-at-Large. 881 The Clubman-Crook’s Cat s-paw. 867 The Frisco Sport. 852 The Stranger Sport’s Shake-up. 828 Kirk King, the Man from Kirby. 818 Gentleman Dave, the Dead Game Sport 783 The King-Pin Tramp. 767 The Sport of silver Bend. 718 Uncle Bedrock’s Big Bounce, 707 The Rival Rovers. 687 Double Cinch Dan, the Sport With a Charm. 677 Mr, Jackson, the Gent from Jaybird. 659 Gilt-Edge Johnny; or, Roldan and His Rovers, 650 Lucky Lester’s Lone Hand. 634 Old Handcart’s Big Dump. 622 The All Around Sports. 603 Desers Alf, the Man With the Cougar. 590 Gentle Jack, the High Roller from Humbug. 578 Seven Shot Steve, the Sport with a Smile. 568 The Dude Detective. 558 Hurrah Harry, the High Horse from Halcyon, 549 Belshazzar Brick, the Bailiff of Blue Blazes. 533 Oregon, the Sport With a Scar. 503 The Dude from Denver, 478 Pinnacle Pete; or, The Fool from Way Back. 459 Major Sunshine, the Man of Three Lives. 429 Hair Trigger Tom of Red Bend, 402 Snapshot Sam; or, The Angels’ Mat Racket, 396 The Piper Detective; or, The Gilt Edge Gang. 375 Royal George, the Three in One. 856 Three Handsome Sunes or, The Combination, 833 Derringer Dick, the Man with the Drop, 268 Magic Mike, ~he Man of Frills. 220 Captain Cutsiceve; or, The Little Sport. 214 The Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Gulch, 182 Hands Up; or, The Knights of the Canyon, 160 Soft Hand, Sharp: or, The Man with the Sand. 145 Pistol Pards; or, The Silent Sport from Cinnabar BY NED BUNTLINE. 637 Long Tom, the Privateer. 633 The Sea Spy 621 The Red 584 Fire Feather, the Buccaneer King. 517 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail. ‘ 361 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot. 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot 5 . 111 The Smuggler Captain; or, The Skipper’s Crime, 18 The Sea Bandit; or, The Queen of the'Islé, “ 16 The White Wizard; or, The Seminole Prophet, BY JACKSON KNOX—‘ Old Hawk.” 838 Old Grips Still Hunt, 827 Detective Walden’s Web. 778 The Butler Detective; or, Old Grip’s Grip 770 The Showman Dete tive. : 762 Old Grip, the Detective. 740 Captain Clew, the Fighting Detective, 732 The Hurricane Detective. 643 Castlemaine, the Silent Sifter. 616 Magnus, the Weird Detective. 606 The Drop Detective. 595 Wellborn, the Upper Crust Detective. 582 Joram, the Detective Expert. 574 Old Faicon’s Double. 561 The Tuug King; or, The Falcon Detective’s Foe. 548 Falconbridge. the Sphinx Detective. 536 Old Faleon's Foe; or, The Detective’s Swell Job. 515 Short-Stop Maje, the Diamond Field Detective, 9 Old Falcon, the Thunderbolt Detective, Bot Syrisantoal Steve, the Retired Detective, 494 The Detective’s Spy. ; 485 Rowlock. the Harbor Detective, 477 Dead-arm Brandt. 487 Mainwaring. the Salamander. ¥ 462 The Ciscus Detective. i : ; 451 Griplock, the Rocket Detective. we 444 The Magie Detective; or, The Hidden Hand, 424 Hawk Heron’s Deputy. i 886 Hawk Heron, the Falcon Detective, BY J. ©. COWDRICK, Foe The Suspect Spor abo Sport Detective ucats Dion, the Na Spor ; . 612 Sheriff Stillwood, the Regulator of Raspberry. The Dominie Detective. 591 Duke Daniels, the Society Detective. 580 Shadowing a Shadow. 565.Prince Paul, the Postman Detective. 557 The Mountain Graybeards; or, Riddles’ Riddle, 519 Old Riddles, the Rocky Ranger 499 Twilight Charlie, the port. 478 Gilbert of Gotham, the Steel-arm Detective, 452 Rainbow Rob, the Tulip from Texas. 436 Kentueky Jean, the Sport from Yellow Pine. 422 Blue Grass Burt, the Gold Star Detective. ; 390 The Giant Cupid; or Cibuta John’s Jubilee, BY EDWARD WILLETT, 483 Flush Fred, the River Sharp. 368.The Canyon King; or, @ Price on his Head. 348 Dan Dillon, King of Crossent. 337 Old Gabe, the Mountain Lahey 337 Terrapin Dick, the Wildwood Detective, 308 Hemlock Hank, Tough and True. 298 Logger Lem: or, Life in the Pine Woods, 289 Flush Fred’s Full Hand, 274 Flush Fred, the Mississippi Sport. | ‘| 248 Moatins Nat, the Lion of Last Chance Camp. ‘4 Red Jack's ie, | 209 Buck FF . the Bonanza Prince. | pp ; ‘or, ® Strong Man’s Sacrifice. — BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID, MF! 129 Mississippi ~ ey By Juntress; or, The Squatter. sett th. aivertinde Ook r Poca bealgr : BEADLE’*] )IME*|IBRARY. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers. rivateer; or, The Midshipman Rover, 198 The Skeleton Schooner; or, Flush Fred’s Double; or, The Squatters’ League BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 911 The Blue Blockader; or, The Coast Grayhound. 906 The Cuban Cruiser, 854 The Ocean Gipsy. 834 The Wild Steer Riders; or, Texas Jack’s Terrors, 819 The Rival Monte Cristos, 805 The Last of the Pirates; or, Doom Driven. 801 The Water Wolves’ Detective; or, Trapving the Grave Ghouls. 791 The Coast-Raider’s Death-Chase. 748 Arizona Charlie, the Crack-shot Detective. 704 Invisible Ivan, the Wizard Detective. 689 ‘The Red-skin Sea Rover, 679 Revello, the Pirate Cruiser; or, The Rival Rovers 672 The Red Rapier; or, The Sea Rover's Bride. 662 The Jew Detective: or, The Beautiful Convict, 640 The Rover’s Ret ibution, 635'The Ex-Buccanecr: or, The Stigma of Sin. 625 Red Wings; or, The Gold Seekers of the Bahamas, 615 The Three « uccaneers. 610 The Red Flag Rover; or, White Wings of the Deep. 605 The Shadow Silver Ship. 600 The Silver Ship; or, The Sea Scouts of "76, 593 The Sea Rebel; or. Red Rovers of the Revolution, 587 Conrad, the Sailor Spy; or, True Hearts of "76. 581 The Outlawed Skipper; or, The Gantlet Runner, 560 The Man from Mexico, 553 Ma. x Monte, the Mutineer; or, The Branded Brig, 546 Tr» Doomed Whaler; or, The Life Wreck, * 530 The Savages of the Sea, 524 The Sea Chaser; or, The Pirate Noble, 510 El Moro, the Corsair Commodore, 493 The Scouts of the Sea, 457 The Sea Insurgent: or, The Conspirator Son, 446 Ucean Ogre, the Outcast Corsair, 435 The One-Armed Buccaneer, 430 The Fatal Frigate; or, Rivals in Love and Wan 399 The New Monte Cristo, {| 893 The Convict Captian. 877 Afloat and Ashore; or, The Corsair Conspirator, 3869 The Coast Corsair: or, The Siren of the Sea, $64 The Sea Fugitive: or, The Queen of the Coast. 341 The Sea Desperado, 336 'Yne Magic Ship; or, Sandy Hook Freebooters. 825 The Gentleman Pirate; or, The Casco Hermits, 318 The Indian Buccaneer: or, ‘Lhe Red Rovers. 307 The Phantom Pirate; or, The Water Wolves. 255 The Pirate Priest; or, The Gampler’s Daughter, 246 Queen Helen, the Amazon of the Overland, 235 Red Lightning the Man of Chance. 224 Black Beard, the Buccaneer. 220 The Specter Yacht; or, A Brother's Crime, 210 Buccaneer Bess, the Lioness of the Sea, 205 The Gambler Pirate; or, Lady of the Lagoon, he Skimmer. 184 The Scarlet Schooner; or, The Sea Nemesis. 104 Montezuma, the Merciless, 103 Merle, the Mutineer; or, The Red Anchor Brand. BY PHILIP S, WARNE, 802 Dan Dirk, King of No Man's Land. 583 Captain Adair, the Cattle King. 567 Captain Midnight, the Man of Craft. 544 The Back to Back Pards, §22 The Cham pion Three. 502 Bareback Buck, the Centaur of the 472 Six Foot Si; or, The Man tu “ Tie To.’ 431 California Kit, the Always on Hand. 404 Silver Sid; or, A ** Daisy" Bluff. 380 Tiger Dick's iy 2 or, Tne Golden Serpent. 359 Yellow Jack, the Mestizo, 338 Jack Sands, the Boss of the Town, 209 Tnree of a Kind; or, Dick, Despard and the Sport, 251 Tiger Dicx vs. [ron Bere 207 Old Hard Head: or, Whirlwind and his Mare. vlains, | 171 Tiger Dick, the Man of the fron Heart. | 114 The Gentleman from Pike. _ 80 A Man of Nerve; or, Caliban the Dwarf. 54 Always on Hand; or, The Foot-Hids Sport. 29 Tiger Dick, Faro King; or, The Cashier's Crinae,| 4 The Kidnapper; or, The Northwest Shanghai, BY CAPTAIN MARK WILTON, $23 Hotspur Hugh; or, The Banded Brothers, 811 Heavy Hand; or, The Marked Men, 305 Silver-Plated Sol, the Monrana Rover. 291 Horseshoe Hank, the Man of Big Luck, 285 ee Bolt, the Canyon Terror. 276 Texas Chick. the Southwest Detective, 280 Fone tke the ¥ ¢ Horse-Thieves- . ard Luke the King of Ho o 263 iron-armed Abe, the Hunchtack Destroyer 258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo, 287 Long-Haired Max; or, The Black League, 227 Buckshot Ben, the Man-Hunter of Idaho, 223 Canyon Dave, the Man of the Mountain 219 The Scorpion Brothers; or, 202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide. 191 Don Sombrero. the California Road Gent. 176 Lady Jaguar, the Robber Queen. BY OLL pte ive 619 Kit Ban Co , the Border Detectives. 148 tere A Alf, the Giant Hunter, 99 The Giant Rifleman: or, Wild Camp Life. 483 Dakota Dan. the Reckless Ranger. BY COL, THOMAS H. MONSTERY, Sham: {Bo Sr Ru ‘o Bravo, King of the Swordsmen, BY DR. NOEL DUNBAR, t Bend. t 919 The Sea Se put or, The Patriot Privateer, $30 ‘The King 0 Crook: eS. t | 858 Number One, the Dead-set Detective. j 850 The Planter Detective. a i 730 Duke Despard, the Gambler Duelist. rim Shadowex — ike Despa 604 The Detective in Rags; or, The G 500 T Pards, Mad Tom's Mission jon Sam; or, The Monarchsof the Show, ;
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BEADLE'S*T )IME*]IBRARY. Published Every Wednesday. Hach Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers, BUFFALO BILL NOVELS, By Colone! Prentiss Ingraham, 964 Buffa!o Bill’s Invincibles 960 Buffalo Bill’s Blue Belt Brigade. 956 Buffalo Bill’s Volunteer Vigilantes, 950 Buffalo Biil at Bay. 943 Buffalo Bill’s Block Game, 936 Buffalo Bills Black Pard, 927 Buffalo Bill's Bluff; or, Dusky Dick the Snort, 921 Buffalo Bill's Quandary: or, Velvet Bill’s Vow. 915 Buffalo Billand the Surgeon-Scout. 909 Buffalo Bill’s League; or, Red Butterfly. 904 Buffalo Bill’s Tangled Trail. Buffalo Bill’s Rough Riders. Buffalo Bill’s Secret Ally. Boffalo Bill’s Life-Stake, 2 The Three Bills: Buffalo Bill Wild Billand Band- box Bill; or, The Bravo in Broadcloth, 4 Buffalo “ill’s Buckskin Braves, Buffalo Bill’s Road-Agent Round-up. Butfalo Bill’s Death Charm, 7 Buffalo Bill’s Royal Flush. Buffalo Bill’s Double Dilemma, Buffalo Bill’s Redskin Ruse, Buffalo Bill’s Bovs in Blue. Buffalo Bill’s Sharp Shooters. Buffalo Bill’s Best Bower. Buffalo Bi'l’s Red Trail, 2 Buffalo Bill’s Death-Knell. Buffalo Bill’s Winning Hand, 7” Buffalo Bill’s Dead Shot. Buffalo Bill's Brand. Buffalo Bill’s Spy Shadower, Buffalo Bill’s Sweepstake. 5 Baffalo Bill’s Dozen: or, Silk Ribbon Sam, Buffalo Bill’s Mascot. 7 Buffalo Bill’s Double. 750 Buffalo Bill’s Big Four; or, Custer’s Shadow. Buffalo Bill's Flush Hand. Buffalo Bill's Blind: or, The Masked Driver, Buffalo Bill! and His Merry Men. Buffalo Bill’s Beagles: or, Silk Lasso Sam, Buffalo Bill’s Body Guard. Buffalo Bill on the War-path. Buffalo Bill’s Scout Shadowers. Buffalo Bill Baffled: or. The Deserter Desperado. 7 Buffalo Bill’s Buckskin Brotherhood. tuffalo Bill’s Blind Trail; or, Mustang Madge. Buffalo Bill’s Swoop; or, The King of the Mines. 658 The Cowbov Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas, 653 Lasso King’s League; or, Buck Taylor in Texas. 649 Buffalo Bill’s Chief of Cowboys; or, Buck Taylor 644 Buffalo Sill’s Bonanza; or, Si ver Circle Knights, 862 Buffalo Bill’s se or. Oath Bound to Custer, 229 Buffalo Bill’s Pledge: or. The League of Three. 189 Wild Bill's Gold Trail; or, The Desperate Dozen. 175 Wild Bill’s Trump Card; or, The Indian Heiress, |’ 168 Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot, By Ruffalo Bill, 978 The Dread Shot Four 969 Texas Jack, the Lasso King 839 The Ranch King Dead-Shot, $20 White Beaver’s Still Hunt. 807 Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist. 800 Wild Bilt, the Deaa-Center Shot. 629 Buffalo Bill’s Gold King, 599 The Dead Shot Nine; or, My Pards of the Plains, 414 Red Renard, the Indian Detective. 401 One-Armed Para; or, Borderland Retribution. 897 The Wizard Brothers: or, White Beaver’s Trail. 394 White Beaver, the Exile of the Platte. 319 Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. 304 Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler. 243 The Pilgrim Sharp; or, The Soldier's Sweetheart, 88 Gold Bullet Svort; or, Knights of the Overland, 52 Death-Traiier. the Chiet of Scouts. By Leon Lewis, Ned Buntline, etc. 773 Buffalo Bill’s Ban; or, Cody to the Rescue. 682 Buffalo Bill’s ®ecrt Service Trail. 629 Buffalo Bill’s Daring Role; or, Daredeath Dick. 517 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail; or. The Express Rider. 158 Buffalo Bill, Chief of Seduts. 117 Buffalo Bills Strange Pard; or, Dashing Dandy. 2 Buffalo Bill, the Buckskin King, BY HAROLD PAYNE, 883 The Man from Mexico in New York. 872 The King-Pin Shark; or, Thad Burr’s Ten Strike. 861 The Tenderloin Big Four 853 The Quaker City Crook. $44 Tracked to Chicago. 836 The Poliey Broker's Blind. 829 The Frisco Sharper’s Cool Hand 821 The Tramp Shadower’s Backer, 813 The Sham Spotter's Shrewd Scheme, 806 The Grand Street Gold-Dust Sharpers, 798 Detective Burr’s Luna‘ic Witness 792 The Wall Street Sharper’s Snap. 734 Thad Burr’s Death Drop. 742 Detective Burr Among the New York Thugs. 734 Detective Burr’s Foil; or, A Woman’s Strategy. 728 Detective Burr, the Headquarters Special. 713 Detee'ive Burr’s Spirit Chase. 706 Detect ve Burr’s Seven Clues. 698 Thad Burr, the Invincible; or, The *L” Clue. 690 The Matchless Detective. 680 XX. the Fatal Clew; or, Burr's Master Case. BY LIEUT. A, K. SIMS. 914 Snowflake Sam’s Double. 897 The Six-Shot Spotter. 887 The Stranger Sport from Spokane, 873 The Sport Detective’s Colorado Clew, 860 The Spangled Sport Shadower. 843 The Crescent City Sport. 882 Gid Gale’s Block Game. 804 Tne King Pin of the Leadville Lions. 786 Chicago Charlie’s Diamond Haul. 776 Chicago Charlie, the Columbian Detective. 758 The Wizar) King Detective. 723 Teamster Tom, the Boomer Detective. 709 Lodestone Lem, the Champion of Chestnut Burr, 695 Singer Sam, the Pilgrim Detective. 688 River Rustilers; or. the Detective from ’Way Back 673 Stuttering Sam, the Whitest Sport of Santa Fe. 666 Old Adamant, the Man of Rock. 618 Konsas Karl, the Detective King. 552 Prince Primrose, the Flower of the Flock. 528 Huckleberry, the Foot-Hills Detective. BY CAPTAIN HOWARD HOLMES, 929 Gentleman George, the Showman Sport. 912 Genteel Joe’s Lone Hand. 903 The Train Detective. 896 Kent Keen, the Crook-Crusher, 888 Nightshade in New York. 879 Falcon Flynn, the Flash Detective. 871 The Crook Cashier, 859 Clew-Hawk Keene’s Right Bower. 847 Hiram Hawk, the Harlem Detective. 840 Major Bullion Boss of the Tigers. 831 Shadowing the London Detective. 817 Plush Velvet, the Prince of Spotters, 803 The Bogus Broker’s Right Bower. 788 The Night-Hawk Detective. 779 Silk Ribbon’'s Crush-out. 766 Detective Zach, the Broadway Spotter. 751 The Dark Lantern Detective, 736 The Never-Fail Detective. 724 Captain Hercules, the Strong Arm Detective, 711 Dan Damon, the Gilt-Edge Detective. 701 Silver Steve, the Branded Sport. 694 Gideon Grip, the Secret Shadower, 684 Velvet Van, the Mystery Shadower. 678 The Dude Desperado 671 Jason Clew, the Silk-Handed Ferret. 664 Monk Morel, the Man-Hun‘er. 654 Sol Sphinx, the Ferret Detective, 642 Red Pard and Yellow 608 Silent Sam, the Shadow Sphinx. 592 Paar Sid, the Shasta Ferret. 579 Old Cormorant, the Bowery Shadow. 569 Captain Cobra, the Hooded Mystery. 559 Danton, the Shadow Sharp. 550 Silk Hand, the Mohave Ferret. 543 The Magnate Detective. 532 Jack Javert. the Independent Detective. 523 Reynard of Red Jack: or, The Lost Detective 512 Captain Velvet’s Big Stake. 504 Phil Fox, the Genteel Spotter. 496 Richard Redfire, the Two Worlds’ Detective. 487 Sunshine Sam, a Chip of the Old Block, 480 Hawkspear, the Man with a Secret. 458 Coldgrip in Deadwood. 460 Captain Coldgrip, the Detective 453 Captain Colbgzip’s Long Trail. 447 Voicano, the Frisco Spy. 441 The California Sharp. 434 Lucifer Lynx, the W onder Detective, 421 Wather Ferret. the Frisco Shadow. 413 Captain Coldgrip in New York. 407 Captain Coldgrip’s Nerve; or. Injun Nick, 400 Captain Coldgrip: or, The New York Spotter, 492 The Lost Bonanza; or, The Boot of Silent Hound. 382 The Bonanza Band; or, Dread Don of Cool Clan. 374 Major Blister, the Sport of Two Cities.’ 865 Keen Kennard, the Shasta Shadow. Ed The Desperate Dozen, 347 Denver Duke, the Man with “ Sand.” 340 Cool Conrad. the Dakota Detective. 335 Flash Dan, the Nabob; or, Blades of Bowie Bar, 821 California Claude, the Lone Bandit. 204 Broadcloth Burt. the Denver Dandy. 941 The Shadow Sport from Frisco, BY WILLIAM H. MANNING, 948 The Red-Gloved Detective. 931 Frisco Frank at Glory Gulch. 920 The Montana Miner in New York. 908 The Doomsday-Den Detective, 899 The Double-Quick Detective. 893 Yellow Gid, of Dark Divide. 885 The Expert Detective’s Shake-up, 875 Trapping the Race-Track Judge. 864 The Police Speeial’s Dilemma. 849 The Genteel Sharper’s, Combine 841 Graydon’s Double Deal. 838 The Sport Detective’s seit 823 The Athlete Sport About Town. 808 TheCrook-Detective’s Pull. 790 Phinger Pete, the Race Track Detective, 782 Royal Rock, the Round-up Detective. 774 Stéve Starr, the Dock Detective. 764 The New York Sharp’s Shadower. 738 Detective Claxton, the Record Breaker. 714 Gabe Gall, the Gambolier from Great Hump, 703 Spokane Saul, the Samaritan Suspect 692 Dead Shot Paul, the Deep-Range Explorer. 655 Strawberry Sam, the Man with the Birthmark, 646 Dark John, the Grim Guard. 638 Murdock, the Dread Detective. 623 Dangerous Dave, the Never-Beaten Detective. 611 Alkali Abe, the Game Chicken from Texas. 596 Rustler Rube; the Round-Up Detective, 585 Dan Dixon’s Double. / 570 Steady Hand. the Napoleon of Detectives, 563 Wyoming Zeke, the Hotspur of Honeysuckle. 551 Garry Kean the Man with Backbone, 539 Old Doubledark, the Wily Detective. 531 Saddle-Chief Kit, the Prairie Centaur. 521 Paradise Sam, the Nov’-West Pilot. 513 Texas Tartar, the Man With Nine Lives, 506 Uncle Honest, the heacemaker of Hornets’ Nest. | 498 Central Pacific Paul. the Mail Train Spy. 492 Border Bullet, the Prairie Sharpshooter, 486 Kansas Kitten, the Northwest Detective. 479 Gladiator Gabe, the Samson of Sassajack. 470 The Duke of Dakota. 463 Gold Gauntlet. the Gulch Gladiator, 455 Yank Yellowbird, the Tall Hustler of the Hills, 449 Bluff Rurke, King of the Rockies. 442 Wild West Walt, the Mountain Veteran. 437 Deep Duke; or, The Man of Two Lives. 427 The Rivals of Montana Mill 415 Hot Heart, the Detective Spr. 405 Old Baldy the Brigadier of Buck Basin, 207 Colorado Rube, the Strong Arm of Hotspur. 279 The Gold Dragoon, ur, California Bloodhound, BY LEON LEWIS. 967 Wind River Clark, the Gold Hermit. 797 Pistol Tommy, the Miner Sharp. 785 Che Down East Detective in Nevada. 773 Buffalo Bill's Ban: or, Cody to the Rescue. 699 The Cowboy Couriers. 686 The On-the-Wing Detectives. 624 The Submarine Detective: or, The Water Ghouls. 484 Captain Ready, the Red Ransomer. 451 The Silent Detective; or, The Bogus Nephew. 456 The Demon Steer, 428 The Flying Glim; or, The Island Lure. i ALBERT W. AIKEN’S NOVELS. Dick Talbot Series, 741 Dick Talbot’s Close Call. 737 Diek Talbot in Apache Lend. 733 Dick Talbot. the Ranch King. 729 Dick Talbot’s Clean-Out. 725 Dick Talbot in No Man’s Camp. 854 Dick Talbot; 01, The Brand of Crimson Grogs 36 Dick Talbot; or, The Death-Shot of Shasta, Aiken’s Fresh of Frisco Series. 825 Fresh, the Race-Track Sport. 660 The Fresh in Montana; or, Blake’s Full Hand. 652 Tne Fresh’s Rustle at Painted City. 647 The Fresh at Santa Fe; or, The Stranger Sharp. 556 Fresh, the Sport: or, The Big Racket at Slide Out, | 587 Fresh Against the Field; or, Blake, the Lion. 497 The Fresh in Texas; or. The Escobedo Millions, 461 The Fresh of Frisco on the Rio Grande. _ | 97% The Fresh in Big Walnut Camp; or, Bronze Jack Aiken’s Joe Phenix, Series. 965 Joe Phenix’s Mascot. 959 Joe Phenix’s Double Deal, 954 Joe Phenix in Chicago. 949 The Doctor from Téxas; or, Joe Phenix’s Clue, |; 944 Joe Phenix’s Right Bower. 865 The Female Barber Detective; or, Joe Phenix in Silver City. 799 Joe Phenix’s Great Blue Diamond Case; or, The New York Sport at Long Branch. 793 Joe Phenix’s Decoy; or, The Man of Three. 760 Joe Phenix’s Lone Hand, 749 Joe Phenix’s Big Bulge, 745 Joe Phenix’s Mad Case. 708 Joe Phenix’s Siren; or, The Woman Hawkshaw. 700 Joe Phenix’s Unknown; or, Crushing the Crooks 681 Joe Phenix’s Specials; or, The Actress Detective 637 Joe Phenix in Crazy Camp. 632 Joe Phenix's Master Search. 628 Joe Phenix’s Combin+ ; or,the Dandy Conspirator 620 Joe Phenix’s Silent Six, 601 Joe Phenix’s Shadow; or, the Detective’s Monitor 419 Joe Phenix,, the King of Detectives. 161 Joe Phenix’s Great Man Hunt. ! 112 Joe Phenix, Private Detective; or, The League. 79 Joe Phenix, the Police Spy. Aiken’s Miscellaneous Novel, | 940 Captain Jack, the Sealper 985 The hawks aud Wolves of New York | 982 Detective Gordon’s Grip. 926 Old Sunflower, the Silent Smiter. 923 Old Sunflower. the Hayseed Detective, 901 The Hotel Swell-Sharp; or, The Siren Shadower, ‘ | 88 The Countryman Derective. | 876 Gold Button Sport; or, The Miner Sharps. | $42 Teton Tom. the Half-Blood. 835 The King-Pin Detective. , 814 The New Yorker Among Texas Sports. 75 King Dandy, the Silver Sport. 7583 Gideon’s Grip at Babylon Par. 717 Captain Pat McGowen, the Greencoat Detective, 674 Uncle Sun Up, the Born Detective. 670 The Lightw eight Detective. 665 Tne Frisco Detective; or, The Golden Gate Find, 613 Keen Billy, the Sport. : 607 Old Benzine, the “ Hard Case” Detective. 594 Fire Face, the Silver King’s Foe. 585 The Silver Sharp Detective. 570 The Actress Detective; or, The Invisible Hand 562 Lone Hand, the Shadow. 520 The Lone Hand on the Caddo, 490 The lone Hand in Texas. \ 475 Chin Chin, the Chinese Detective. 465 The Actor Detective. 440 The High Horse of the Pacific. 423 The Lone Hand; or, The Red River Recreants. 408 Doc Grip, the Vendetta of Death. ; 881 The Gypsy Gentleman: cr. Nick Fox, Detective 376 Black Beards; o1. The Rio Grande High Horse 370 The Dusky Detective: or. Pursued to the Era. 863 Crowningshield, the Detective mn 820 The Genteel Spotter: or The N, Y. Night Hawk, 252 The Wali Street Jilood; or, The Telegrarh Girl. 203 The Double Detective: or,The Midnight Mystery. 196 La Marmoset, the Letective Queen, 101 The Man trom New York, 91 The Winning Oar: or. The sonkeeper e Daughter, 84 Hunted Down: or, The League of Three. 81 The Human Tiger: or, A Heart of Fire, 7% Gentleman George: or. Parlor Prison and Street. 72 The Phantom Hand; or, The 5th Avenue Heiress. 56 The Indian Mazeppa; or, Madman of the Plains. 49 The Wolf Demon; or, The Kanawha Queen. 42 The California Detective: or, The Witches of N.Y. 81 The New York Sharp; or, The Flash of Lightning. 27 The Spotter Detective: or, Girls of New York, NEW ISSUES. 984 Buffalo Bill’s Life Raffle. By Col. P. Ingraham, 985 The Long-Haired Pards. By Jos. E, Badger. 986 Iron Wrist. the Sworamaster. By Col. Monstery 987 Shadrach, the Sport Detective. By J. W. Osbon 988 Rocky Mountain Rob, By Albert W. Aiken, | 989 Buffalo Bill’s Marked Bullet. By Col. Ingraham | 990 Bowi »-Knife Ren, the Little Hunter of the Nor West. By Oll Coomes. JUST ISSUED. 975 Freelance, the Buccaneer. By Col. Ingraham, 976 Overland Kit. By Albert W. Aiken. 977 Cyclone Pete, By Wm. BR. Eyster. ‘ 978 Monte Cristo in New York “By J, C. Cowdrick. 979 Buffalo Bill’s Relentless Trail. By Ingraham, 980 The All-Around Athlete. By A, W. Aiken. 981 The Gold-Lace Sport. By Jos. E. Badger. 982 Chris Crewles’s Winning Hand. By A. P. Morris 983 Kid-Glove Kris, the Sport. By J. C. Cowdrick. A new issue every Wednesday THE DIME LIBRARY is for sale ty all Newsiiealers. ten cents per copy. or sent by mail on receipt of price. CTEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 92 William street, New York, ~~ 577 Tom, of Calif orma; or, Detective’s Shadow Act. * J j caste
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HOFFAL ml Novels Ten Cents a Copy. The ME Library. 984 Buffalo Bill’s Life Raffle; or, The Doomed Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Relentless Trail. By Prentiss Ingraham, The Dread Shot Four; or, My Pards of Plains. By Col. W. F. Coays, ere Buffalo Bill's Invincibles; or, The Sable Shad- Prere Sublime Sacrifice, By Col. P. Ingra- nam, Buffalo Bill's Blue Belt Brigade; or, Sun- flower Sam of Shasta. By Col. P, Ingraham, Buffalo Bill's Volunteer Vigilantes; or, The Wympex Guy Man in Blue. By Col. P. Ingra- ham, Buffalo Bill at Bay; or, The Gold Seeker's Doom. By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Block Game; or, The Mounted sea of the Overland. By Col. P. Ingra- nam. 936 Buffalo Bill's Black Pard; or, Boomers of the Big Horn, ham. 927 Buffalo Bill's Bluff; or, Sport. Colonel The Gold By Col, P. Ingra- Dusky Dick, the By Col. P. Ingraham. 921 Buffalo Bill’s Quandary; or, Velvet Bill's Vow. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 915 Buffalo Bill and the Surgeon Scout; or, Go- wan-go, the Redskin Rider. By Col. P. In- graham. 909 Buffalo Bill's League; or, Red Butterfly. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Tangled Trail; or, Jack, the Man of Many Masks, Ingraham. ~ Buffalo Bill's Rough Riders; or, Texas Jack's Sharp-Shooters. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Secret Ally; or, The Texan's Double. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Life-Stake; or, The Pledged Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. The Three Bills; Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill and Band-Box Bill; or, The Bravo in Broadcloth, By Col. P. Ingraham, Buffalo Bill's Buckskin Braves; or, The Card Queen's Last Game, By Col. P. Ingraham. 869 Buffalo Bill’s Road Agent Round-Up; or, The Mysterious Masked Man in Black. By Col. P. Ingraham. 863 Buffalo Bill's Death-Charm; or, The Man With the Scar. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Royal Flush; or, The Pony Ri- der’s Death-Run, By Col, Prentiss Ingra- ham. Buffalo Bill's Double Dilemma; or, The Great Scout's Big Three. By Col. P, Ingraham, Buffalo Bill's Redskin Ruse; or, Texas Jack's Death Shot. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, The Ranch King Dead-Shot; or, Texas Jack's Proxy. By Buffalo Bill. Buffalo Bill’s Boys in Blue; or, The Brimstone Band's Blot-out. By Col. P. Ingraham, Buffalo Bill’s Sharp-Shooters; or, The Surgeon Scout to the Rescue. By Col, P. Ingraham. Gentleman By Col. P. 000000000 0oo0000 0000 O000000080 2 Buffalo Bill's Best Bower; or, Montebello the Gold King. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. White Beaver’s Still Hunt; or, The Miner Marauder’s Death-Track. By Buffalo Bill. Buffalo Bill's Red Trail; or, The Road-Rider Renegade’s Run Down. By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Death-Knell; or, The Red Hand Riders of the Rockies. By Col. P. Ingraham, Wild Bil, the Wild West Duelist; cr, The Girl Mascot of Moonlight Mine.” By Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist; or, The Girl Grande Ralph, the Cowboy Chief. By Buf- falo Bill. Buffalo Bill's Winning Hand; or, The Masked Woman of the Colorado Canyon. By Col. P. Ingrahem. Buffalo Bill's Dead Shot; or, ‘The Skeleton Scout otf the Colorado. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, Buffalo Bill's Brand; or, The Brimstone Brotherhood. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, Buffalo Bill’s Spy-Shadower; or, The Masked Men at Grand Canyon. By Col. P. Ingraham, Buffalo Bill’s Ban; or, Cody to the Rescue. By Leon Lewis. Buffalo Bill’s Sweepstake; or, The Wipe-out at Last Chance. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, Buffalo BUll’s Dozen; or, Silk Ribbon Sam. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Mascot; or, The Death Valley Victim No, 18. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Double; or, The Desperado De- tective. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, Buffalo Bill’s Big Four; or, Custer’s Shadow. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Flush Hand; or, Texas Jack's Bravos. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Blind; or, The Masked Driver of Death’s Canyon, By Col. Prentiss Ingra- ham. Buffalo Bill and His Merry Men; or, The Robin Hood Rivals. By Col. Prentiss Ingra- ham, Buffalo Bill’s Beagles; or, By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Body Guard; or, The Still Hunt of the Hills. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill on the War Path; or, Silk Lasso Sam, the Will-o’-the-Wisp. By Col. P. In- graham. Buffalo Bill’s Scout Shadowers; or, Emer- ald Ed of Devil’s Acre. By Col, P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill Baffled; or, The Deserter Des- perado’s Defiance. By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Buckskin Brotherhood; or, Opening Up a Lost Trail, By Col. P. In- graham. ‘ Buffalo Bill's Blind Trail; or, The Daughter of the Regiment. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Secret Service Trail. By Major Dangerfield Burr. Buffalo Bill’s Swoop; or, the King of the Mines. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. The Cowboy Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas, By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. Silk Lasso Sam, 653 The Lasso King’s League; or, The Tigers of ) Texas. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 649 Buck Taylor, the Saddle King. Buffalo Bill's Chief of Scouts. By Col. P. Ingraham. 644 Buffalo Bill's Bonanza; or, The Knights of the Silver Circle. By Col, P. Ingraham. 639 The Gold King; or, Montebello, the Magnifi- cent. By Buffalo Bill, 629 Buffalo Bill's Daring Role; or, Daredeath Dick, King of the Cowboys. By Leon Lewis. The Dead Shot Nine; or, My Pards of the Plains. By Buffalo Bill. Buffalo Bill's First Trail; or, Will Cody, the Pony Express Rider, By Ned Buntline, Red Renard, the Indian Detective; or, The Gold Buzzards of Colorado, By Buffalo Bill. The One-Armed Pard; or, Red Retribution in Borderland, By Buffalo Bill. The Wizard Brothers; or, Trail. By Buffalo Bill, White Beaver, the Exile ees Man's Red Trail. By Buffalo Bill’s Grip; or, Oath-bound to Custer, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Pledge; or, The League of Three. By Col, P, Ingraham. Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. By Buffalo Bill. Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler; or, The Queen of the Wild Riders. By Buffalo Bill, The Pilgrim Sharp; or, The Soldier's Sweet- heart. By Buffalo Bill, Government Scout and Guide. Wild Bill’s Gold Trail; or, Dozen. By Col. P. Ingraham. Wild Bill's Trump Card; or, The Indian Heiress. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot; or, Dagger Don’s Double. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham, 8 Buffalo Bill, Chief of Scouts; or, The Doomed Dozen, By Dr, Frank Powell. Buffalo Bill’s Strange Pard; or, Dandy, the Hotspur of the Hills. D, Burr. Buffalo Bill, Amazon of the West. Burr, Gold Bullet Sport; or, The Knights of the Overland. By Buffalo Bill. Death Trailer, the Chief of Scouts; cr, Life ha Love in a Frontier Fort. By Buffalo NEW ISSUES TO COME, 985 The Long-Haired Pards; or, The Tartars of the Plains. By Joseph E, Badger, Jr. 986 Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster. By Col. Thos. Hoyer Monstery. 987 Shadrach, the Sport Detective; or, The Secret Seven. By John W. Osbon. 988 Rocky Mountain Rob, the California Outlaw. By Albert W. Aiken. White Beaver's of the Platte; or, Buffalo The Desperate Dashing By Major the Buckskin King;, or, The By Major Dangerfield Bae DIME LIBRARY is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail, pre-paid, on re- ceipt of price. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 92 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORE. — 000000000 000000000 0000000080 909000000