Beadle's Pocket Library (no. 184) (1887 07 20)
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5 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams. , Vol, XV, Jay pad No. 98 “i acudlaek By Nzw Yorx. . Five Gente. No, 184, THE GERMAN SCOUT HELPED HIS FRIEND, ‘“‘ FenDERVHIGUT.”’ UP ON THE PLATEAU, AND TRIUMPHANTLY LED HIM TO HEADQUARTERS,
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2 Featherweight, the Boy Spy. Featherweight, THH BOY SPY; OR, Dutch Derman in the Mountains. BY EDWARD WILLETT, AUTHOR OF “‘ FEATHERWEIGHT,” “‘ ASA SCOTT,” ETC., ETC., ETO. CHAPTER I. THE WATCH ON THE CLIFF. “Watt! Who goes there?” : Shrill and loud this ery rung out from the edge of arocky plateau high up in the Ozark Range in Southwestern Missouri. The plateau was but a shelf, backed by the mountain, and the ledge where the sentry was posted was reached from below by a narrow pass, so steep that a horse could searcely climb it. It was not to any intruder by way of the pass that the challenge was directed; but the sentry looked toward the left, where a pile of jagged rocks cut off the view of the western edge of the lateau, an edge which was simply the upper imit of a precipitous cliff, reaching sheer down, “some three hundred feet, to the bed of a moun- tain stream. The challenge was unanswered, and again if rung out upon the night air, sharply and an- grily. Suddenly a dark form arose from. behind the pile of jagged rocks. The form might be that of a man, but the face, aS visible in the silvery mop anes, was bearéless and youthful. ‘* Who goes there ?” There was no answer to this third challenge, and the dark form was motionless. The Leeper 4 quickly cocked his rifle; but, before he could fire, the intruder vanished. “Durn my buttons!” exclaimed the sentry, as he rose to his feet, holding his cocked rifle ready for use, ‘‘ Who was that feller, anyhow? Whar did he come from, and whar has he gone to? He wasn’t one of our men, sart’in; but how did pag Raper git up thar? This p’int has got to be settled right now,” He stepped to the pile of rocks, and examined them carefully. Then he passed around them, but still saw nothing of the intruder whom he had challenged. He looked over the edge of the cliff, and received the impression of utter dark- ness and silence. “Durn my buttons!” he repeated. ‘‘ Hither it was a ghost that I saw, or that feller has tum- bled over and smashed himself to flinders.” His attention was drawn from these medita- tions by noises in the pass of falling stones and of the snorting of a horse. He hastened back to his post, and challenged again. “Who goes there?” This time an answer came, quickly enough, . but somewhat breathlessly, as if from a man who was exhausted by climbing, and the head of the man, as he led his horse up the slope, was visible from where the sentry was posted, “A friend!” was the answer, “ Advance, friend, and give the eountersign.” “T have no countersign; but I think you will know my face when I come a little nearer to you. “T reckon I know your voice,” admitted the sentry, as the man approached the edge of the plateau. ‘‘ Yes, I know your face, too. Ain’t you Mr, Creswell, from Memphis?” “Yes; that is my name—Alfred Creswell— and my son—” “Your son is Ozark Alf, the captain of our little company. That’s all right, sir. Step right up, and I will take keer of yer hoss.” The man who climbed up to the plateau was tall and of large build, though not portly, with a determined look in his face, and with streaks of gray in his hair and beard. He was plainly dressed, and was armed with a rifle and two re- volvers. His horse carried a capacious pair of saddle-bags. “Ts not this Dave Soward?” he asked, looking closely at the sentry, and the latter confessed that he was that man, : ‘How is my son?” inquired Mr. Creswell. “Oh, Alf is allright. He is well and hearty. and full of life and business, though it’s a fact that times have been sorter dull with us lately, Reckon you want to see him, and he will be glad to see you. Do you know the way?” “T think I have not forgotten it.” “Reckon I had better kinder interjooce yer, anyhow. Come along, Mr. Cresweil, and never mind the hoss.” There was clearly no danger that the horse would stray from the plateau, and Mr. Cres- well followed his conductor through an opening that looked like a cleft in the rock, rather than a pass. 3 a the mean time, what had become of that ghost or person whose appearance and disap- pearance had so greatly puzzled Mr. Daye Soward? E Tf that careful sentry had been a little quicker in his motions, he would have seen a lithe and active young fellow let himself down over the cliff toa narrow ledge a short distance below, peuere he entered a hole that opened on the edge. “T have found ’em now, for sure,” he mut- tered, as he crawled in at the opening; “but I must know where this hole leads to, afore I give up the job.” ; It was no easy matter to work his way through the dark, narrow and unknown pas- sage. At places it was high enough to. anal him to creep on all fours; at the other places ho was obliged to lie down and wriggle through like a worm. : . ‘<T hope I won't stir up atiy rattletail snakes, he said to himself, as he crawled into one of these tight places, Nearly an hour had passed when he reappear- ed at the opening of the hole, having managed in the mean time to turn himself so that he came out face foremost, and then the mystery of the means by which he had reached that elevation became apparent. ; : He swung himself down from point to point of the rugged rock, at times clinging against the cliff like a spider, until he reached the top of a tall tree which had its roots near the moun- -
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Featherweight, the Boy Spy. 3 — tain stream, sending its branches far up against the cliff. The youth seized one’ of these branches and swung himself off into the tree, where he gained a secure seat, and paused for a breathing and resting spell. Then he climbed down until there were no more branches to aid him, and finally clasped his arms and legs around the trunk and slid gradually to the ground. There he was joined by a short and thick-set man, with a stolid, German countenance, who carried a short and heavy rifle, “Ts dot you, den, at last, Feddervate?” asked the German. ‘‘I vas yoost so glad to see you like nefer vas.” “This is my noble self, Herman,” replied the youth, “‘safe and sound, as you see, except a few scratches. But I think, after this little job, that I will have to change my name from Fred Light to Light Fred. I can tell you. Meinherr Paige ord that it needed a light foot-and a firm hand for the work I have been doing.” “Mit a shtraight head_oond a shtout heart, Feddervate. Vot for vas I efer let you go 0 p to dose places, where nothing goes but ealles oond odder flyin’ tings?” “You know that I was bound to do it, Her- man, and I am apt to f° ata thing when T have set my heart on it, But, it was a tough job, and Iam glad it is over. {[ doubt if 1 would have dared to try it by daylight.” “Not py daylight? Votyou vas gif me, Fed- dervate? I oxpect a man canseo his way in der daylight.” “That's what’s the matter, old boy. In the dark I could only feel, and so there was no danger of getting my head turned. If [had once looked down, you might not have seen me here in this shape. But the job is done, Her- man; I got what I went after, and the money the sheriff offered is as good as in my pocket.” “You finds dem fellers, hey?” “T found the hiding-place, the den, the fort, . or whatever you choose to call it, of Ozark Alf and his gang.” “Dot vas a big find, by shiminettiy! Tell me all about dot, Feddervate.” cm “Let us start ahead first. We will hardly get home by daylight, anyhow.” Featherweight got his rifle, and the two friends mounted their horses, which had been tethered near by, and followed the bed of the stream down the mountain. ‘““Tell me all about dot, Feddervate,” again asked Herman Schweitopfel. “TI climbed the cliff, Herman, and I don’t care to talk about that job any more, Near the top I found a hole, that looked like a good hiding-place, if nothing more. I raised myself up, and at thesame timeT started up a man who was on watch there, I suppose. I guess he would have shot me if I hadn’t got out of his sight mighty quick. I sneaked down into the hole, and heard him when he walked over there and wondered what had become of me. “T knew that I had found the den, and had a notion that the hole might lead to it. I crawled in, and that was a pretty tough job, because I was afraid that I might rouse up some snakes, and I don’t like to stir up a snake when he has all the advantage on his side, ButI didn’t stir | spoken of, ‘I reckon you are tired and hungry, f up any snakes, and after a while I saw a light. When I got to it, 1 knew that the light came from the inside of a cave. The hole at that end was blocked up with stones, and I guess I might have pulled out some of them; but I wasn’t in that igereene just then. I could see between the stones, though, and I saw some men in the cave,” “Vas dot Ozark Alf dere?” eagerly asked Her- man, “Yes, From what I soon heard, I knew that one of the men was Ozark Alf.” “‘Vot vas he like? Von of dose pirate fellers dot ve reads about?” “He was quite a good-looking young man,” replicd Featherweight. ‘‘ He reminded me of somebody whom I had seen not long since, and in a few minutes that same somebody came in,” ‘‘ Who vas dot, Feddervate?” ‘*T believe I won’t tell you any more about that business just now, Herman. It was queer, and I want to think it over. When we get home, you will soon know as much about it as I do, “Den ve gets home yoost so quick like nefer vas.” So they rode on through the darkness, until the gray streaks of dawn appeared in the East, and until a rosy flush told of the rising sun, CHAPTER II. FATHER AND SON. . q WueEN Dave Soward had led Mr. Alfred Cres- well through the crevices in the rock, the gentle- man from Memphis found himself at the en- trance to a large and airy cavern. There were indications that the. entrance had been closed against the elements during the win- ter, and at this time, late in the spring, the cav- ern was evidently inhabited. It was well sup- plied with rude but comfortable furniture, in- cluding plenty of skins and blankets, and a small but bright fire not only lighted the interior, but gave evidence of recent cooking. Near the fire three'men were seated. Dave Soward pressed in to announce the guest. “Tsay, Cap, here’s yer dad.” One of the three men arose. He was a bright young fellow, with black hair andeyesanda | swarthy complexion, tall and well built, appar- ently a model of strength and grace, et: The announcement of the visitor had been very plain, not to say rude, and in the meeting —__ of father and son there was nothing dramatic or sentimental. They did not rush into each other’s arms with exclamations of joy and af- fection. Not a bit of it. © “Hello, Alf,” said the elder, it?” j “All right, dad,” replied the younger, as he stepped forward and shook hands. ‘t Glad to see you, Sitdown and make yourself comfort-— able. Dave, you had better go back to your post.” : The sentry reluctantly went out, and the visitor was given the softest seat the cavern af- forded. “Now, dad,” said the young man, who was no other than the Ozark Alf who has been f 3 “How goes
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4 Featherweight, the Boy Spy. Pete will soon get you something to eat, but in the first place you will need a nip, and I can offer you some first class moonshine, oily and old, and the best of it is that it has never paid a cent tax to the Yankee Government.” “Tt goes straight to the right place,” said the elder Creswell, when he had taken a hearty swig at the jug that was handed him. ‘I see, my son, that you still keep up your wicked and law- less ways.” “Come, now, dad, that’s a little too much,” said the other, with a merry laugh, ‘If I thought that my ways were any wickeder than yours, I would quit them right off. Haven’t you gobbled up all your brother’s property, and don’t you mean to hold on to it?” “Ths all for you, Alf. I want to keep it and add to it for your sake.” “All right, but don’t you get me to live in Memphis. When we came out of the war a few of us had got so used to bushwhacking that we couldn’t quit the business; so we took to the hills and to living off the country. We have made it pay, too, and that is the strong point.” “ By the way, Alf,” said Mr. Creswell, lower- ing his voice to a whisper, ‘‘ how is our friend— your+a—guest—getting on?” “You may as well speak out, dad. Do you suppose I would try to. keep such a thing a se- eret from my friends here? He is well enough, and bids fair to live forever. But he is dead enough in law, and I propose to keep him so. You are all right in that quarter.” “Tam not all right, my son, and that is what I came to speak to you about.” “You want something, then? I thought as much, Spit it out, dad.” “Tt is about your, cousin Sophie. She has slip ed the halter.” ‘The vixen!” exclaimed Alf. ‘I told you that you would have trouble with that girl.” “She met in Memphis,” continued the elder Creswell, ‘a young man from these parts named Frank Mallory, and fell in love with him. When I shut down on that acquaintance, she ranaway, and went to Cairo. I followed her up, but she got away again, assisted by Mallory, a smart boy from up the Ohio, anda big Dutchman. They came to Missouri, and [ picked up a set of roughs, and gave them a lively chase; but luck was against me that time and they beat us at every point. Finally, they cleared out my party, not far from here, and came on to Mallory’s home, and I am told that she has married him. Now that she has a husband he may take a no- tion to look into things, and that will mean ruin for me and a big loss for you. What I want you to do, Alf, is to geté hold of her—to capture her—and when she is once in our power, you may be sure that [ will bring her to terms.” Ozark Alf frowned darkly, apd looked down while he impatiently patted the rocky floor with his foot. ““T don’t like the notion of it, dad,’ he said, “IT know something of Frank Mallory, and cen- sider hima fine fellow. He went through the war with Price, and comes of good stock.” ““What has that to do with the matter?” an- grily demanded the man from Memphis. ‘I don’t want to be ruined even by an angel.” + “JT tell you, dad, I don’t like the notion of it atall. Not that I pretend to be too good for that sort of thing; but you know what I have had on my hands and in my thoughts for years, and do you suppose I want to dip in any deeper?” egotiations were interrupted at this moment by the appearance of Pete, the darky who did the cooking for the occupants of the cavern. He brought for Mr. Creswell a supper of fried pork, potatoes, and corn bread, which engaged the attention of that gentleman for a while. “So everything must go by the board, Alf,” he remarked, when he had finished his repast. “T don’t say that, dad; but I do say that I don’t like the notion of it. Aslong as I stick to my regular business, I am all right, but when I go into outside speculations, there is no telling ow soon I may get broke up. I speak for my partners more than for myself. You know that this affair is no business of theirs.” “ But I will make it their business,” insisted the man from Memphis. “Twill pay them well —in fact, liberally.” ‘* Of course you would have to do that, dad. But there is another point. We don’t want to bother the people about here, and have never as much as picked up a horse in this neighborhood. If we should make a raid on Frank Mallory’s house, and carry off his wife, that would turn them all against us, and they would join in with others who have had good cause to hate us, and hunt us down and root us out.” ‘* The job can be done easier than that, Cap,” remarked a man, who was known as Precious Pink, and who claimed that the strange cogno- men was his rightful name. ‘What do you mean, Precious?” asked Ozark £ ‘“* Why, Cap, I am‘about the settlement a good deal, and I know suthing about Frank Mallory’s purty wife. Sheriff Jarvis, you see, has been uttin’ on airs and gittin’ a pianner, and young Missis Mallory has took a notion to teach Jarvis’s gal to play onto it. She goes over ther’ reg’lar, gen’ally alone, and I kin find out when she makes her trips. She has to cross a neck 0’ woods, and ifgwould be jest as easy as lyin’ to pick her up and bring her here ’thout anybody ein’ the wiser fur ’t.” Ozark Alf regarded this suggestion favorably, though it was evident that he had no real relish for the adventure. ‘ Well, Precious,” he said, ‘if it can be done in that way, and if you and the others want to take hold of it, I won't try to keep you back.” “* As that point is settled,” said Mr. Creswell, ‘sive mea place to lie down, and I will sleep better than I have slept for many a night.” CHAPTER IIL. A SHARP AND SUDDEN BLOW. Just as day broke, Fred Light and Herman Schweitopfel rode up to an old-fashioned farm- house. i Before dismounting they hailed the house, and soon a window was thrown, up, and a man in his shirt-sleeves looked out. “Ts that you, Featherweight?” he asked. “Tt is both of us,” tration the youth. ‘‘Come down and let us in,” M . Mallory, We have
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Featherweight, the Boy Spy. 5 brought big news, and we are tired and hungry.” They were soon admitted by Frank Mallory, a tall and fine-looking young man, who wel- comed them bebe Ee In a few minutes they were joined by his handsome young wife, and then by his mother, an elderly lady of matronly appearance, ll were overjoyed at seeing Featherweight and his companion, and all were eager to learn where they had been and what they had done. “You have given us all a great relief, Fred,” said Sophie “get ‘“Frank has worried about you, and I have prayed for you, ever since you went away.” “T know that they are both hungry, as well as tired,” put in Frank’s mother, ‘‘ and I mean to get them some breakfast as soon as I can.” hile the good old lady was bustling about with this hospitable purpose, Frank and Sophie Mallory did not attempt to conceal their anx- iety to learn what had happened to their friends. “ But Iam so glad to see youso safe at home,” declared Frank, “that I don’t really care whether you succeeded or not.” “Oh, that is all right,” replied Featherweight. “T got what I went after, you may bet your sweet life.” “What! do you mean to say that zh have found the hiding-place of Ozark Alf and his gang?’ “Yes, and I have seen Ozark Alf himself.” “Indeed! What does he look like?” “He is what I call a real fine-looking youn man, and [ should hate to have a tussle wit! him. But, who do you suppose he is!” “T know nothing of him, Fred, except that he is the leader of the worst band of horse- thieves and land-pirates that ever afflicted this region, though [ maysay for them that they have not made much trouble in this immediate neighborhood.” “You paghin't to abuse your relatives in that way, Mr. Mallory,” remarked Featherweight, with a quizzical smile. All his auditors showed their astonishment in their looks. “Relatives!” exclaimed Mallory. ‘* What do you mean by that?” A Only that Ozark Alf is your cousin by mar- riage. Anicadetvnan was no word for the wonder that showed itself in the faces of Frank and Sophie and the old lady. As for Herman, he aid: not seem to haye been born to wonder at anything. ‘You are running some sort of a rig on us, my boy,” protested Mallory. ‘I am sure that no cousin of mine can have married that man, because [ have no female cousin living.” “But you have married a wife who has a cousin,” Sophie’s excitement fairly blazed up. “Tt can’t be!” she declared. ‘Surely it can’t be that the man you speak of is my cousin Al- fred—Alfred Creswell!” “That is the very chap,” replied Feather- weight. ‘I know it is, because I heard him say so. And that ain’t all. As I was peepin’ in on %em, who should turn up, Miss Sophie, but that man from Memphis, who put the job up on you in iene ed uncle, I mean, Mr. Alfred Cres- weil. ‘*My uncle here,” exclaimed Sophie. ‘‘ Then it is clear that this Ozark Alf must be my cousin Alfred. But I wouldnever have dream- ed of such a thing. I saw him two or three times in Memphis, and supposed him to be a very nb! ele a young man, a dealer in horses and cattle.” ‘““'That’s his business,” said the youth; “ but it is other folks’ horses and cattle that he deals in, an’ he gets ’em without payin’ for ’em. When I saw your uncle I knew that some deviltry was on foot, and the fact is that he and this Ozark Alf are puttin’ up the worst kind of a job on you. They talked a heap, and some of their talk I couldn’t hear, and some of it T couldn’t understand; but all the fuss is about property, just as I’ve told you afore. As near as I could make out, it is your father’s prop- erty, that your uncle has got hold of, and wants to keep. The upshot of it is that the old man means to get hold of you, and that is the game they are going to play.” ; Frank Mallory and his young wife were so astonished at these revelations that they did not know what to say, and it was a relief to mee all when the old lady called them to break- ast. Frank and Sophie had no appetites, but Fred Light and Herman were as hungry as wolves, and the lad found time in the course of the meal to give the details of his adventures of the night before. 3 The meal was hardly finished when there was a vigorous rap at the door, and a tall and heavily-built man entered, who was at once recognized as Squire Jarvis, the sheriff of the county. Without any ceremony he at once addressed himself to Fred Light. ‘““A man on my place told me,” he said, “ that he saw you and your friend ride by early this morning, and I came up as soon Se a to ask what luck you have had.” ; “Plenty of hard work, but I can’t complain of my luck,” replied the lad. ‘I found the people you sent me to look for.” “You did? Well, my boy, I must say that you are a trump. ou have beat all the smart chaps in these parts. I have had several men | looking for that den, but some of them were too scary, I reckon, and the rest were too stupid. Tell me about it, now, and you may come down — to my office and draw your pay as soon as you want to.” | Featherweight began at the beginning, and gave the sheriff the entire history of his adven- tures, including the plot which Alfred Creswell and his son had prepared for getting possession of Sophie. “You are even smarter than I took you to be, | my boy,” averred the sheriff, ‘ and a see that you can be relied on to any extent. Of ceurse we can’t pretend to attack the gang by the route’ you took; but we will find some way to get at them, now that we know where to find them.” ‘From what Fred Light tells me,” suggested | Mallory, “the attack is likely to come from their side.” “Oh, as for that, I can’t believe that they
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\ 6 Featherweight, the Boy Spy. will try to play such a game in this neighbor- hood, where they have never molested any- body. They would be afraid to set our people against them. If they should try it, it couldn’t win, now that we know what to expect. I will send you a strong guard of good men, Mallory, and if Ozark Alf comes here to carry off your wife, he will play directly into our hands,” The sheriff hastened away to organize his guard, and Fred Light and Herman Schweitop- fel went to seek the rest which they sorely needed. Before noon the guard arrived. It was com- posed of six picked men of the neighborhood, all well armed, and Frank Mallory felt greatly re- lieved by their presence in the house. His mo- ther was the only person on the place who was nervous and fearful. > Harly in the afternoon Sophie said that she would step over to Squire Jarvis’s house and give Katie Jarvis her music lesson, “Hadn't you better drop that until after this trouble is over?” queried her husband. “TJ don’t know why Ishould,” she_ replied. “That piano is,a great comfort to me, and Katie is such an apt scholar that it is a pleasure to teach her. If any robbers or ruffians come here while I am gone, they will get a warmer reception than they looked for, and I will be out of their way.” “We need not expect to be bothered by them to-day,” decided Frank. ‘‘ Night is the time they choose for their raids. Well, run along, my dear, if you are anxious to go; but I think you had better tell Katie that she must not expect you again for a few days.” She gave her husband a good-by kiss, and gayly tripped away, leaving him a little uneasy on general principles, though he did not suppose that the least dangor would attend the trip to Jarvis’s. At about the middle of the afternoon, Val Mallory, Frank’s younger brother, a bright boy of fourteen, was seen coming up the road which Sophie had taken. He walked as if he was in ree staggering as he came, and his face was loody and his clothes were covered with dust and dirt. His mother and brother met him at the gate and helped him into the house, where ke was seated in an easy-chair and was given a glass of wine.” He told his story as soon as he could. He was coming through Becker’s woods, across which the path ran that Sophie always took as a short ent when she went toJarvis’s, He heard a& woman’s cry, and saw three men with horses, They held a woman who was struggling to get away; but they put her on a horse just as he caught sight of them, and one of them got up behind her, and the other two mounted their horses. He could not see her face, as it was covered with some sort of a cloth; but he knew by the dress that she was his brother’s wife. He ran toward the men and shouted at them; but they put spurs to their horses and came on ata gallop. One of them rode right over him, and he knew that the man intended to ride him down, He was knocked over and knew nothing more for a while. When he came to himself he was lying in the path, his face was bloody, and he was sore all over. He had never seen any of the men before, but thought he could give a pretty good description of them. One of them rode behind Sophie, who was in his saddle, Mrs. Mallory at once sent a mounted messen- ger for Squire Jarvis, and another for a physi- cian, and hastened to attend to the needs of her injured boy. The first to arrive was Squire Jarvis, who came in hot haste. He said that Sophie Mallory had not been at his house that day, and he had no doubt that Ozark Alf and his father had put their plan. into execution suddenly and effec- tively. reais Mallory was so stunned by this fearful blow, that he was thrown into the deepest dejec- tion, and so dazed that he was for atime incapa- ble of offering any suggestion, Fred Light and Herman Schweitopfel had been around, and had come down and joined the party. From the description given by Val Mal- lory, Featherweight was sure that it was Ozark Alf who rode behind Sophie when she was car- ried away. ““They have struck quick and hard,” said the sheriff. ‘‘It is no easy matter to get ahead of such men as those. It can’t be that they mean to run the lady right off from here,” “T don’t believe they do,” asserted Feather- weight. ‘‘ As nearas I could get at it, their no- tion was to take her up there to the den.” “ Well, I will start out at once and alarm the neighborhood. All the people who have seen her have fallen in love with Frank’s wife, and he has always been a favorite. They will turn out, you ps be sure, and we shall have plenty of help. will be ready to start for the mountains. by daybreak, and we must take you along, my boy, to show us the way. ; “My friend Herman can do that as well as I can,” said Fred. ‘ Anyhow, he can show you as much asI could. For my part, Mr, Jarvis, I don’t mean to wait for you.” “ What are you going to do?” “Tam going up into the hills to-night, as I went last night. 1 mean to find out where Miss Sophie is, and to keep an eye on her.” CHAPTER IV. SOPHIE AT BAY, Tue capture of Sophie Mallory proved to be, as Precious Pink had predicted it would, a very easy matter. While her friends had not supposed that Ozark Alf and bis band could have the slightest acquaintance with her habits and her move- ments, her enemies struck speedily and with knowledge. They had only to tether their horses in the woods through which she was accustomed to pass, and to lie in wait by the side of the road which she was accustomed to follow, and the rest was the work of but a few minutes. What had become of her would have been merely mat- ter for guesswork, had it not been for the appear- ance on the scene of Val Mallory, and the vicious attempt to ride him down had not de- stroyed the boy’s ability to report the event, ”
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a em Featherweight, the Boy Spy. y Bound and gagged, and mounted before one of the most expert horsemen in the country, she was helplessly carried far from her home and her friends. Her captors wore no masks, as they did not fear recognition; but they chose bypaths, and routes that were covered by timber, as they had no desire to attract attention. Only once on their way to the mountains did they meet: any person, and that was a man who stopped and stared at them as they were crossing a ublic road. But that was at a considerable istance from the Mallory homestead, and the man need not have supposed that the lady, al- though she was riding in a strange fashion, was a captive, as the covering of her face might well be mistaken for a vail. It was late in the afternoon when they began to ascend the mountains, where they considered themselves absolutely safe, and it was not more than two hours after dark when they climbed the difficult pass that led to their cavern fort- ress. Alfred Creswell was eagerly awaiting their arrival. He had been oppressed by anxiety ever since the men started on their evil errand, fear- ing that they might fail, and that their attempt would so frighten the friends of his niece that they would hurry her out of the country. As night approached he paced the plateau ex- citedly, stopping every now and then at the head of the pass to look down the defile, and even put- ting his head to the ground to listen. *"Durned if I don’t believe the old gen’leman has got the itch or the St. Vitus’s dance,” mut- tered Dave Soward, who was again keeping watch on the plateau, ‘‘It’s enough to give a feller the bypo jest to look at him.” As the night advanced he grew more impa- tient. But at last, after listening intently at the head of the pass, he jumped up with an ex- clamation of profane joy. ““They are coming!” he said. They were indeed coming. Soon the tread of the horses was heard as they toiled up the steep and uneven way, and in a few minutes the first of them made its appearance on the plateau, bearing a double burden, a man and a woman. The bandage had been removed from Sophie’s mouth, but her face was still covered. ‘Have you really got her, my son?” asked the man from oe Ses “Of course I have,” replied Ozark Alf. “Thank the Lord for that!” “ Better thank the devil!” growled the young man, as he dismounted and took Sophie down from her saddle, She was led through the cleft in the rock and into the cavern, where she was given a comfort- able seat, and the covering was removed from her face. There was a bright fire burning in the cayern, and she easily recognized her uncle and her cousin. **So it is really you, then,” she said, address- ing herself to Ozark Alf. ‘‘I could not believe it when I was told that you were the chief of a band of robbers; but now I see that it was the truth.” “T can’t guess how you ever heard that,” re- marked her cousin, “ But I did hear it, and I knew, too, that yo: ~.. would try to do the very thing that you have done, though I would not have thought that you would do it so soon and in such a sneaking man- ner. Oh, 1 have friends, I assure you—friends who are brave and skillful and strong, and you will be made to suffer severely for this out- rage. We are your nearest relatives and your best friends,” remarked Mr, Creswell. ‘“You, too!” she exclaimed, turning fiercely upon her uncle, ‘* You, who ought to have been my best friend, but have always been my worst enemy—you are still following me up and perse- cuting me, as if you had not already caused enough trouble and bloodshed on my account. I know it is useless to make any appeal to your feelings, or to your sense of justice or honor; but I would be glad to know what you expect to gain by tearing me away from my home, my husband and my friends.” ‘““What I have done has been for your own good, entirely for your own good,” replied her uncle, ‘to save you from committing and con- ag Oe a great sin and crime.” “ What do you mean, sir?” she indignantly asked, “ That man Mallory is not your husband.” ‘That is a falsehood,” she promptly replied. ‘‘T know that we were lawfully married, and there is no mistake about it.” “There is a great mistake about it, my poor child. By your father’s will you were prohib- ited from marrying without my consent. As you married without that consent, them arriage was net a lawful one.” This attack, instead of knocking Sophie down, only seemed to develop her fighting quali- ties. ‘* My father’s will!” she exclaimed. ‘‘ That is something that I hear of now for the first time. How does it happen that you never mentioned it to me before? If my father died in poverty, as I have often heard you say, why did he make a will?” ‘**T have told you that he left you inmy care,” rep] ied Mr, Creswell. ‘It would have been as wise to leave a lamb in the care of a wolf. I do not believe what you tell me, about my marriage. I am neither a child nor a fool. Jam of age. What has my father’s will to do with the matter? I have known of girls who have married against the will of their parents, when their fathers were living, and the marriages were never disputed, Your attempt to frighten me on that score has failed, sir.” Mr. Creswell shook his head sadly, and sighed audibly. ‘Poor girl!” he said, ‘*She does not under- stand the peril of her position.” ‘‘T do understand it quite too well,” she re- lied. ‘I understand that my only peril comes rom you, and that you alone are responsible for it. I want to know what you expect to gain by stealing me from my home and bringing me here against my will?” The man from Memphis looked about uneasily and Ozark Alf kept his eyes on the ground; but neither of them spoke. 1t was clear that Sophie was not to be frightened. Would they be obliged *.) expose their real purpose to her?
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8 Featherweight, the Boy Spy. “T want to know,” she continued, ‘* what has become of my father’s property? I now believe that he did not die a vagabond or in poverty, as ou have often told me. Where is his ree ave you taken possession of it, and do you mean to cling to it? Isit for this pur that you have followed me up so closely? If so, you may as well make a clean breast of it. Tell me why you have brought me here, and what you want me to do.” Alfred Creswell had been considering the mat- ter while she talked, and had settled upon the plan he meant to pursue. “Tt is true,” he said, ‘‘that your father did own a little piece of property in Memphis; but it was such a small affair that I never thought it worth speaking about, Itis only a part of a lot; but [ have built about it in such a way that T need it in order to get access to my own pro- =i R Its value cannot be more than three undred dollars, and I will give you five hun- dred if yo will assign your right to me.” ‘Ts that all you want?” demanded Sophie, “That is all. As there is so little property, I will put the instrument in the form of a general release to me of your interest in your father’s estate. When you have signed this, you can re- turn at once to the place you call your home and the man you call your husband.” “ What if I refuse to sign it?” “‘Tn that case it will probably be a long time before you see either \of them if ever.” “T shall not sign anything of the kind,” firm- Sy Aanouoed Sophie. “‘ I believe that‘ now un- erstand fully your meaning. Thereis property that my father left, and itis no small matter. It is not for any little piece of ground that you have followed me upand committed this out- rage. Ihave rights, and I will not sign one of them away to you.” “Phen you may expect to take up your quarters here until you get over your obsti- nacy,” remarked Mr, Creswell. “T am not afraid. Ihave friends who will find me out, and they will make you pay dearly for your treatment of me,” “We are not worried about your friends, coz,” assured Ozark Alf, breaking his long silence. ‘‘ It would take an army to capture this fort of mine.” ‘© We will let her sleep over it,” said the man from Memphis. ‘‘ Where shall she lodge to- night?” “Oh, there is plenty of room in this hotel. She shall have an apartment to herself.” “You know, Alf, that you must not let your —your guest—come near her.” ‘No agi a of that, dad. Come, and I will show you the place. Never mind her, She is as safe in this room as if she was sealed up in a bottle.” The two men went into another portion of the cavern, leaving Sophie to her reflections. But she did not have much time to reflect. A short, sharp, but low whistle, that seemed to come from the rocky floor under her feet, caused her to start and turn her head, wonder- ing where the sound had come from. Then there was a voice, low and distinct. ‘“* Miss Sophie!” She was thoroughly bewildered. Who could Saiyme it be that was seeking to communicate with her at such a place and time? ‘‘ Who is it?” she asked, in a startled whisper. “T's Featherweight, ‘Miss Sophie. I’m on hand, and I’ve come to stay, bet your eyes! Don’t be afraid, and don’t you think of givin’ in. We will get at those chaps, and make a scatteration of ’em, sure’s you’re born. All you’ve got to dois to hold up your head and be plucky. That’s all. Good-night!” Ozark Alf and his father returned imme- diately, and found their prisoner lookimg re- markably bright and cheerful. “You look as cheerful asif you had heard some goods news,” remarked her uncle, * Perha best news I could hear just now would be news of something to eat.” “You shall have your supper directly, and then your sleep, and in the morning I hope you will repent of your obstinacy.” “Tt is you who will repent,” she retorted, ‘and that before long, not only of this outrage but of many evil deeds.” CHAPTER V. FEATHERWEIGHT IN A BAD BOX. FEATHERWEIGHT lost no time in beginning the task which he had set himself todo. He re- sisted the entreaties of Herman Schweitopfel, who was anxious to accompany him, as it was nec that the German should remain and uide Sheriff Jarvis's party to the mountains. e arranged his rifle so that he could sling it.at his back, filled his pockets with cold meat an supply of cartridges, mounted his horse and set out, followed by the best wishes of his friends. He was sure that he knew where to find Sophie Mallo: and he meant to follow the same route which he had taken the night be- fore; but it was after dark when he reached the foot of the cliff, and his tiresome and difficult climb to the top was not a matter of a few min- utes, When he reached the hole near the edge of the cliff. ne made no attempt to rise to the top of the plateau and survey the situation of affairs up there, but dived right in, and crawled through the narrow pas until the light from the cavern, shining through the chinks of the rocks, told him that he had reached his destination. 2 Sophie was already there, as he soon discoy- ered, with her uncle and Ozark Alf, and he heard much of the conversation that passed be- tween them—enough to assure him of the firm stand that Sophie taken, and to cause him to admire her pluck and spirit, : As soon as the two men had left that portion of the cavern, he opened communication with her, telling her that he had come there to watch over her, and that her friends would surely de- liver her from her perilous position. Ina few moments he had the satisfaction of knowing, from what her uncle said to her, and from her reply, that his presence there had grea) ly cheered and encouraged her. As there seemed to be nothing more for him to do at that time and place, he came to the conclusion, after reflection, that he might as I have,” replied Sophie; ‘ but the ~
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- of our men bas turned traitor, an ——— Featherweight, the Boy Spy. well descend the cliff and get a night’s rest in the valley. As he was an expert climber, the undertaking did not seem to him near as difficult as he had at first considered it, and he was certain that the hole into which he had crept would be anything but a comfortable sleeping-place. e crawled back, and had mearly reached the mouth of the hole, when he heard something that startled him. He heard voices above him, on the plateau, near the edge of the cliff, and he was sure that one of the voices was that of Ozark Alf. “T know that there is something wrong, Dave Soward,” declared the young chief. ‘‘The wo- man we brought up here to-night said that she knew of what we were going to do, and I am inclined to believe her. I can’t suppose that one there must have been a spy about here. What was it that you say you saw last night?” “*T lowed it was a ghost, Cap, but it mought ha’ been a man. It happened when I was on guard at the head of the pass, jest afore the old gen’leman came. I heard a noise over this way, and I challenged. No answer. I chal- lenged ag’in, and then a man, or what looked like a man, riz up right about whar we’re stand- in’, but dropped like a shot afore I could fire, came around here, and thar warn’t nothin’ in the shape of a human to be seen, and I fhain’t made pid my mind whether it was a man or a ghost that showed up for a second. If it was a map, he tumbled over thar and smashed his- self to finders. If it wasa ghost—vwell, I don’t know much about ghosts, nohow.” “Suppose it was a man, Dave; was there no other way for him to get out of sight?” Dave scratched his head, and looked around at the walls of rock that shut in the plateau. Then he kneeled down and looked over the edge of the cliff. “Well, I dunno,” he said, at last. ‘‘ Thar’s a sort of a hole down here, but I never made no account of it, though Big Jeff did say that he heerd suthin’ scramblin’ about. thar to-night. But it stands to reason that a man couldn’t climb ‘the face of that rock, and to git here in any other way ’u’d beat my time.” “T think I could climb it, if I had to,” said Ozark Alf. ‘‘And you say that Jeff heard a scramblin’ here to-night.” ss That mought have been a painter, or even a “Ifa panther had his home there, Dave, we would have heard his screech at some_ time, and that is no likely place for a coon, It may be = SPY, and this matter ought to be looked in “Want me to go down thar, Cap, and make the critter show his hand? All right. I ain’t afeard of coons or painters, or even of ghosts; to say nothin’ of men, I’ll go in thar, Cap, and whatever it is will soon hev to come out or git me out.” Dave Soward examined his pistol carefully, and replaced it in his belt. Then he Jet himse: down over the e of the cliff to the narrow ledge, and entered the hole head first. Ozark Alf, with his pistol cocked, awaited the result of this singular search, 9 Featherweight had overbeard much of this poe Aa a which was intensely interesting to” im. As soon as Dave Soward announced his inten- tion of going down to examine the hole in the cliff, the youth drew back and prepared for the worst. It was certain that he would be discovered. Even if he should retreat to the end of the hole that was next to the cavern, he would he fol- lowed and found. Discovery must result in surrender—which was out of the question—or death. As somebody must die, he was determined that the somebody should not be himself. In fact, Featherweight, who was not at all fond of retreating, determined to fight it out, and to resist to the utmost extremity. He crawled back through one of the narrow passages until he reached a place where he could turn, and cocked his rifle, congratulatin himself on having brought that weapon, thoug’ it had thus far been quite an inconvenience to him. He had not long to wait; the mouth of the hole was not darkened by the entrance of Dave Soward, being already as dark as it could be; but Featherweight could plainly hear the noise he made as he crawled in, andin a few moments a muttered oath enabled him to locate his an- tagonist exactly. e aimed his rifle in the direction of the sound and fired. The report sounded terribly loud in that con- fined space, and was followed by a silence which was rendered more Ss eage by the sulphurous smell of burned powder. Featherweight had met his enemy and had made an end of him, Ozark Alf, as he stood on the plateau, heard the dull and muffled sound of Featherweight’s rifle, and knew that somebody or.something had been shot in the rock under his feet. He waited for anothcr report, but heard none. The single shot had settled the business one way or another. He waited for Dave Soward to ap- pear and report the success or failure of his search, but waited in vain. He leaned over the edge of the cliff, listening intently, but heard nothing more, Then he called out another member of his band, to whom he explained what had ee as far as he could, and directed him to keep a careful watch at that point. Then, with a very uncomfortable feeling to carry with him, the outlaw leader returned to the cavern. After a while he came back to the plateau, and asked the man whom he had left on guard if he had seen or heard anything. “ Not a thing,” was the reply. Just then they heard something strike against the side of the cliff below them, and go tumbling down in the darkness. Ozark Alf waited a little while, as it was barely possible that his own man might have He the survivor of the struggle. Then he lost all hope. “That is the last of Dave Soward,” he said. ‘‘There is a man down there, Jerry—a Spy Keep a close watch here, and as soon as he sticks his head out of that hole, shoot him!”
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10 \ CHAPTER VI. THE SIEGE OF THE CLIFF, Suerirr JARVIS was as anxious to begin the work that he had set himself to do as his young friend had been about his; but he needed time to perfect his plans and put them in operation. He started at once to arouse the people of the settlement and enlist a party to act against the outlaws, and this was an easy thing to do. Those who knew Frank Mallory’s handsome and amiable young wife were eager to go in search of her, and those who were not per- sonally acquainted with her were indignant that such an outrage had been committed in that neighborhood. he sberiff easily found plenty of volunteers, and from those who offered themselves he select- ed twenty active young men, whom he directed to meet at his house at daybreak the next morn ing, mounted and armed. The size of Ozark Alf’s band was not definitely known, but it was believad that this number of men would be amply sufficient to overcome him. One of the first at the rendezvous was Frank Mallory, who had thrown off his dejection, and was anxious to follow up the desperadoes and recover his wife, A prominent portion of the outfit was a mule feicky Sheriff Jarvis had loaded with pro- visions. “This business may turn out to be a regular siege,” he said, “‘and I don't intend that the campaign shall bo made a failure by neglect of the commissary department.” At sunrise the party set out, and when they had reached the mountains Herman Schweitop- ful guided them to the foot of the cliff which Featherweight had ascended, that they might locate Ozark Alf’s stronghold. As it was clearty impossible to make any sort of an attack from that position, they rode around until they struck a bridle-path, which they believed would lead them to the den of the desperadoes. hey slowly toiled up this bridle-path, with two scouts in advance and the provision mule in the rear, and it was about noon when they reached the foot of the pass that led to the S yra teau. Here they stopped to.reconnoiter and to consider a plan of operations. They had been ascending a heavily-timbered and not very difficult slope; but here they found their further eres obstructed by high and overhanging cliffs, the climbing of which was clearly out of the question, The only opening through these masses of rock was the steep and narrow pass, which could not be more than thirty or forty yards in length, but presented a position which a few men could easily defend against many. Here, then, was a natural fortification, which appeared to be proof against any kind of attack, and the sheriff and his party shook their heads doubtfully as they surveyed it from all possible points of view- One of the two scouts volunteered to go up the and reconnoiter, and was permitted to try the dangerous experiment. ‘He went in slowly and cautiously, but had Featherweight, the Boy Spy. gone only a little distance when the sharp crack of a rifie was heard from above. A bullet struck the rock at the side of the pass, scatter- ing bits of lead and fragments of rock about, and the scout quickly and quietly returned to his friends. “T don’t think they tried to hit me,” he sv1d. “ They only wanted to give me a hint that I had better get away from there.” “The shot tells us that we have found them, anyhow,” said Sheriff Jarvis, ‘‘ But we are like the man whose bucket was at the bottom of the well. It wasn’t lost, he said, because he knew where it was; butit might as well have been lost for all the good it did him.” “Tf dot Feddervate vas here,” remarked Her- man Schweitopfel, “‘he vould find der vay in dere mighty quick. Were vas dat Feddervate? I thought I vas see him now pooty soon. Aber I hopes dey don’ got him already.” Frank Mallory, who had sunk into another fit of dejection, sat on the ground, nervously hand- ling his rifle, and unable to offer any sugges- tion, “Tt is just asI told you this morning, boys,” declared the sheriff. ‘‘ This business has got to come toa regular siege, and it is lucky that I attended to the commissary department. You must picket out your horses wherever you can find a bit of grass, and we will camp right here. I reckon we ought to be able to starve those ras- cals out, if we can’t do any better.” “Perhaps so,” replied Mallory, “‘if this is the only route to theirden. But Iam afraid that they may hold us off here as long as they have a mind to, and then sneak away by the back door.” ‘‘That’s. so, Frank. But we can only do our best. We must send a few men around to the other side of the mountain, and the rest of us will stay here and watch this rat-hole.” Four men who were well acquainted with the range were sent to search for the rear entrance, if any, to the outlaws’ stronghold, and the others settled down at the foot of the pass and prepared for what Sheriff Jarvis seytad a regu- lar siege, A few good marksmen were detailed as skir- mishers to send an occasional shot up the pass; but this irregular firing was seldom answered from above, and nobody was hurt on either side. Thus the day passed without showing any progress, and a quict night followed, during which no demonstration was made by the be- siegers or the besieged. The next morning Frank Mallory was very restless and impatient. His dejection had given way toa fierce eagerness to make an attack in some shape, and he proposed all sorts of impos- sible projects. “T can’t stand this much longer,” he said, “T am afraid that my wife has already been run off by her infernal scoundrel of an uncle, and that they are only holding us here so that she can be got well out of the way. If we don’t get at them before long, you may count; on me for something desperate.” Sheriff Jarvis quieted the bereaved husband as well as he could, and begged him to await the return of the four scouts, whose information,
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Featherweight, the Boy Spy. M1 if it should prove to be favorable, would be im- '- mediately acted upon. “T don’t look for anything from that quarter that will help us,” moodily replied Mallory, as he walked away and began another inspection of the rocky fortress that blocked their path. Herman Schweitopfel was also very anxious and uneasy on account of Featherweight. He was sure that the lad would have found his frends and reported the result of his dangerous expedition, if he had not been killed or captured by the outlaws. Mallory and the sheriff did not share this un- easiness, but assured Herman that Fred Light would never get into so tight a place that he could not find or force a way out of it. Shortly after noon the two scouts returned, and their report justified Mallory’s forebodings. Ozark Alf’s fortress, as well as they could judge of its location from the other side of the moun- tain, appeared to be entirely inaccessible in that quarter, and they had not been able to find as much as a bridle-path that led toit, or the slightest indication of a back entrance, “Just as I expected,” remarked Mallory. “But that is not what I call bad news, Frank,” said Jarvis. ‘‘If there is no back en- trance, ey! can’t run off your wife, and we will surely be able to starve them out.” **T doubt that, Captain Jarvis. They would not be likely to shut themselves up in such a place as that, without leaving a hole to crawl out of wben this one is closed. Depend upon it, they can get away if they want to. Come, Jim Breen! It’s you and I for this work.” Jim Breen was a young Missourian who had spent a considerable portion of his time in Texas as a cowboy or vaquero, and was reputed to be very expert in the use of the lasso. “eDid you bring your lasso, Jim?” asked Mal- lory. Toe course I did. I would as soon think of leaving my saddle at home as that.” ‘Let me show you something, then.” Mallory led him close to the overhanging cliff at the right of the pass, and pointed to its top, where there was a scanty growth of stunted’ timber. “Do you see that stump, Jim? The lightning has shattered a cedar up there, and has lefta few feet of it standing. Do you see it?” “Plain enough,” replied Breen. “Do you think you could throw your lasso over that stump?” “Perhaps [ might, if it was long enough.” “We can make it long enough. Captain Jarvis packed a good piece of hemp rope on the mule.” “ Are ou thinking of climbing up there, Frank? ou couldn’t hand-oyer-hand it on my lasso or on a hemp line. Nobody could.” ** But we could tie knots to help a man in climbing,” suggested Mallory. “That would make the lasso harder to throw. But we may as well try it, Frank, and I wouldn't advise any man to bet that I can’t do it. It was determined that this experiment should be tried. The hemp rope was securely made fast to the lasso, and knots were tied in both at con- venient distances for climbing. Then Jim Breen coiled it as well as he could, and took his stand where he had a clear view of the stump at the summit of the rock. The first throw was a failure. He had mis- calculated the effect of the knots, and the line did not reach the top of the cliff. He put more vigor into the second throw, but missed his aim by casting too far to the right, and the third throw was just as much too far to the left. On the fourth throw the lasso seemed to settle over the stump, but the result showed that it had gone beyond. “Don’t give it up, Jim!” said Mallory, as the ex-vaquero stopped to rest, Again he straightened himself up to his work, measured the distance carefully with his eye, and let fly the knotted rope. It sailed circling through the air and this time he was sure that he had hit the mark. “We've got them now!” joyfully exclaimed Mallory, as he ran to the rock and pulled down on the rope. “What are you going to do, Frank?” asked Sheriff Jarvis. “T am going up there, and will pull my rifle up after me. Then I will want one or two good climbers to follow me. It I am not greatly mis- taken, we will be in a position from which we can fire down on those fellows and drive them: to cover. When you hear me yell, the rest of you can charge up the slope.” He threw off his coat, and began to climb the knotted rope. CHAPTER VII. FEATHERWEIGHT STILL IN A FIX. WHEN Featherweight had overcome his ene- my, he crawled back a little distance, and yield- ed to the overpowering need of rest. He was for the time entirely worn out, in mind as well asin body. The fear that hoe would not be able to extricate himself from that hole in the rock had shaken him even more thin the unpleasant and almost hopeless labor he bad been compelled to perform, e was still a prisoner, but it was one thing to be guarded by a living man who was out of his reach, and quite another to be shut up asin a tomb by a corpse. It was possible that another man might be sent in to ferret him out, or that some infernal means which he could not guess at might be used to make an end of him; but these considerations did not annoy bim in the least. They pel came to him, and instantly drifted out of his mind, as he sunk on the hard and damp floor of his narrow poe and was at once lost in a slumber too deep for dreams. When he awoke he could not judge how long he had slept; but be knew that his sleep although it had rested his body, had not been a refreshing one. The hole was hateful to him since it had be- come a prison. His bones ached, his flesh was sore, and the close and damp air oppressed him severely, He crawled toward the entrance for breath, and saw the light of day outside. He wished that he might thrust out his head and feel the sunshine and breathe the fresh air, but was rot yet ready to give his life for that privilege. He-
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12 Featherweight, the Boy Spy. would even have dared to attempt the descent of the cliff in broad daylight, if he had believed that he could make his escape in that way—if he had not felt sure that he would be shot down. Tf he had the slightest doubt on this point, it was soon ended by the voice of Ozark Alf, whom he plainly heard speaking to the guard on the plateuu above him, “Have you seen or heard anything in that hole down there?” asked the young leader of the outlaws. ““Tain’t neither seen nor heard nothin’,” was the reply. ‘ Are you sart’in that thar’s suthin’ in thar, Cap?” “There can’t be a doubt of it, I tell you, and Tam sure that it must be a man. I heard the report of a gun or a pistol last night, and it is just possible that Dave Soward fired the shot. TE so, it may be a panther or something of the sort that isin there. But no such beast would have tumbled poor Dave's body out. Besides, it would have shown itself when day came. It roust surely be a man, Pete, and I would give a zood sum to know who he is and what he is thore for.” “Tt wouldn’t be no fun to try and find out, Cap,” remarked the guard. “That is true enough. After what happened to Dave, I would not want anybody to make the attempt. But we must get even with that cussed spy in some way. I wish I knew where that hole leads to.” “T don’t know nothin’ about it, Cap, ’ceptin’ that it’s a hole,” ‘*Ts it possible that it runs into our cavern?” “Should say not. I know all the ins and outs of the place by heart, as you may say, and I’ve never see’d no sech openin’.” “‘ Well, I will think it over and look about. See to it that you keep a close watch here, Dave, like a cat at a rat-hole, and shoot the sneak if he puts his head out. I reckon we can starve him to death, if we can’t get at him in any other way.” ‘All this, although it relieved his mind of any sort of doubt, was not at all zonsoling to poor Featherweight, who had already begun to wish that he had never seen that wretched hole in which he found himself a close prisoner. They could starve him out, he supposed, in the course of time, and they might try and smoke him out if they should become emai and he could do nothiug to help himself. His only hope was in the arrival of his friends and the capture of the outlaws’ stronghold; but, from what he knew of the position, he had good reason to believe that the capture, if it could be effected, would require considerable time, and that his case would be settled before that event could come to pass. In the mean time he was hungry, and he con- . gratulated himself on his forethought in filling his pockets with provisions before he started to the mountains. They would not be likely to starve him out while that supply lasted. With this thought to cheer him, he took out a portion of the store in his pockets, and began to eat, not ravenously, but with the view of taking enough to sustain nature, and of making the provision last as long as he reasonably could. - He had eaten but a little when he was seized by a new and sudden fear. He had made a painful discovery. The provisions that he had brought from Mrs. Mallory’s were fried ham and cold biscuits. The salted and smoked ham soon gave hima sensation of thirst, and he remembered that he had nothing to drink. He had not thought to bring a canteen of water. This was no light matter when he reflected that he might be shut up for days in that nar- now hole in the rock—an imprisonment which was bad enough to bear at the best. He knew how the feeling of thirst would grow upon him until it became a torture, and he began to per- ceive that the lack of food was not the only or the worst cause of starvation. But he must bear it as well as he could, and the only way to bear it would be to think as lit- tle of it as possible. He ate sparingly of the salf meat, and began to think of what he should do to get rid of time, which was beginning to hang heavily on his hands. e determined that he would go to the cavern end of the hole, to see what was going on, and possibly to catch a glimpse of Sophie Mallory. He thought he could do this safely, as he was quite sure that no other person would try the experiment that had proved fatal to Dave Soward, There was a light in the cavern, as he could easily see through the chinks -in the stones, though he could not tell whether it was caused by a lamp ora fire. Sophie was not to be seen, but there was a person alone in that portion of the rocky room who strangely attracted his at- tention, This was an old man, to judge by his gray hair and beard and his pale and wrinkled face. His clothes were hardly better than a mass of rags; but he wore them with the air of one who had been accustomed to better apparel, and every now and then he drew himself up proudly as he walked the rocky floor, muttering and gesturing. Featherweight could catch but a few words of bis muttering, and to those few he could spre no meaning. From the singular actions of the old man, and from the wild glare in his eyes, the lad judged that be was probably in- sane, He was still walking the rocky floor, mutter- ing and gesturing, when one of Ozark Alf’s band came in, and spoke to him contemptuously: “Come, old codger; git out o’ this!” ‘Whom are you addressing?” demanded the old man, turning upon him angrily. “If you speak to me in that style again, I will have you taken out and whipped. Do you know who I am, sir?” “ Nobody but an old fool.” “‘T am the King of the Mountain. I have but to speak, and my word is law.” ‘You ain’t no king o’ nothin’,” stiffly replied the other. The old man passed his hand across his brow, and changed his tone: “T know who I am,” he said, ‘‘and who you are. You are el th Pete, sometimes called Sleepy Pete, and I am poor old Martin Cres- well, who has been robbed of his property and his child by rascals, But I will get it all back. | | |
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Featherweight, the Boy Spy. —everything back—and that very soon, and this den of thieves shall be broken up, and all of you shall suffer.” “That’s all right, Uncle Martin,” said the other. ‘‘But the fact is, old man, that I’ve been on pan since midnight, and am awful sleepy. want to lie down here and take a snooze, and will be much obliged to you if you won’t bother me.” The old man muttered a few words, and walked away to another part of the cavern. Bigfoot Pete threw down some blankets near the place where Featherweight was concealed, laid aside his rifle, his cartridge-box and his canteen, stretched himself out on the blankets, and in a few moments was snoring loudly. The thoughts of the poor young fellow im- prisoned in the hole were fixed upon that can- teen. His thirst was troubling him greatly, and he thought he saw a means-of satisfying it. When the loud snores satisfied him of the con- dition of the sleeping man, he set himself at work to remove one of the stones that blocked up the cavern end of the hole. He accomplished this task quietly and with little difficulty, reached in his hand, and drew out the canteen. Then he replaced the stone as he found it. “T hope it is not whisky!” he muttered, as he hugged the stolen treasure to his breast. e removed the stopper, smelt of the con- tents, tasted, and knew that it was water. Then he would not have taken its weight in gold for the precious canteen. CHAPTER VIII. “ HOORAY FOR OUR SIDE!” FRANK MALLORY soon discovered that it was no easy matter to climb Jim Breen’s lasso to the hight he desired to reach; but he was not a heavy-weight, and his arms were sinewy, and his will was strong. With the aid of the knotted ropes he finally reached the summit of the rock, drew himself up to the stump, and paused to take breath. After a while he crept forward, and passed out of sight of those below. Presently he re- turned, and his joyful countenance and eager signaling told them that he had made a dis- covery that pleased him. - He signaled for another man to follow him up the rope, and Herman Schweitopfel hastened to obey the signal. But the task was too much for the heavy German, and he had ascended but a few yards when he dropped back to the ground, puffing and perspiring. “Tt vas no go, by shimminy!” he exclaimed. “T tought I vas go oop to find dot Feddervate; aber I might so vell vish dot I vas a eakle, by shimminy !” A hghter and more active young man made the attempt, and soon succeeded in reachin; Frank Mallory. Their rifles were then attach to the rope and drawn up, and, after a little more signaling by Mallory, the two men dis- ap) from view. . lieving that wanes 2 of importance would soon be accomplished by this movement, Sheriff Jarvis drew up the rest of the men at the foot of the ASS, ready for instant action when Frank lory’s yell should give them the signal to charge, | i3 Mallory and his partner found the summit of the rock which they had reached nearly flat, with only a few dwarf trees to break the level, and they crouched down and crawled a distance of some twenty yards to the other edge. From this elevation they looked down on the plateau that formed the outwork of Ozark Alf’s stronghold, and saw that it was occupied at that moment by only three men. One of them, rifle in hand, was stationed at the right, near the edge of what appeared to be a tremendous precipice. The other two, -similarly armed, were loitering near the head of the pass, Al- though on guard, they evidently did not expect an attack or fear one, feeling confident of their ability, with the weapons in their hands, to hold that position against any force that would be likely to be brought against them. But danger threatened them from a source that had nct entered into their calculations. Frank Mallory perceived that he could cover with lis rifle one of the men at the head of the pass, and .directed his partner to mark the guard at the right of the plateau. Their rifles cracked together, and the man at whom Mallory had aimed fell like a log, as the bullet from above crashed through his brain, His comrades started back, and stared wildly about, wondering from what quarter the fatal stroke had come. Tke third man, badly hit, dropped his rifle, and ran toward a cleft in the rock at the rear of the plateau. As soon as Mallory saw the effect of bis shot, he gave voice with the full force of his lungs to an old army yell that had stirred stout hearts on many a hard-fought field, and Sheriff Jarvis, who was waiting for this signal, dashed at the head of his men up the steep and narrow ravine. : The one man who was left at the head of the pass retreated before this onset and several of the outlaws who had been drawn from the cavern by the shots and the yell, sought shelter in the cleft rock from the fire of their foes who poured up on the plateau. Frank Mallory and his partner, perceiving that the movement had been as successful as they could wish, hastened to descend the rope and to join their friends at the head of the ravine, The outworks of the fortress had been carried; but, as soon became evident to all, only one point in the campaign had been gained. This was the conclusion at which Sheriff Jar- vis arrived after making a careful survey of the situation. “We are scarcely any better off than we were before,” he said. ‘‘ We have got over the curb, but the kettle is still at the bottom of the well. However, boys, it is consoling to feel that we know just where to find it.” “Provided that the bottom don’t drop out of the well,” suggested Frank Mallory. Indeed, it was doubtful whether the position of the attacking party had been improved aft all by this success. The outlaws were securely in- trenched, and the narrow passage in the rock that led to their retreat was even easier to de- fend than the ravine had been, while their as- sailants were more dangerously exposed, A shot from that dark interior, by which one of
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14 Featherweight, the Eoy Spy. the party was seriously wounded, showed them the necessity of taking cover and beginning an- other siege. The rocky pile at the right of the plateau af- forded sufficient protection in that quarter, and from this point they began to build such a breastwork of stones as should cover the en- trance to the cavern. Herman Schweitopfel, in spite of his weight and clumsiness, was one of the first to reach the plateau. He had hoped to find there something that would account for the disappearance of Featherweicht. If the lad had been made a prisoner, the capture of the outlaws would res- eue him; if he had been killed, his fe*thful friend was determined that he should be terribly avenged. . In this expectation poor Herman was sadly disappointed. Regardless of the occasional shots that were fired by the penned-up outlaws, he ran about the plateau {ooking in vain for his young friend. Then he passed around the pile of rocks at the right and ventured to look over the edge of that fearful cliff which Feather- weight had so daringiy climbed: but he neither saw nor heard anything of the lad who was so dear to him, though he called his name again and again. ‘there were tearsin his voice, if not in his eyes, when he aroso from his stooping position and east a despairing glance ecu “Vhere is dot Feddervate?” he exclaimed. ‘‘Oh, mme boy, mine poor boy! Dose tyfels vas got you, oond your Herman vas hefer see you any more sometimes. “ Hooray for our side!” was the cry that came to him ina faint and muffled voice, as if pro- cee ling from the rocks under his feet. It was Featherweight who uttered the ery . The possession of the sleeping outlaw’s can- teen of water was such a relief to him that he felt fora moment as if his troubles were all over, and he proceeded to make a hearty meal of his salt meat and bread, washing it down with the precious liquid. Then it occurred to him that he did not know how long he might be shut up in that hole, and that it was necessary to use his store of pro- visions and water sparingly. So he put the rest away, and was frightened when he perceived that he had already half emptied the canteen. He thought that he would return to the mouth of the hole and watch for a chance to escape, and he had started in that direction when a noise in the cavern attracted his attention. This noise was caused by Bigfoot Pete, who had awakened and missed his canteen. He swore fearfully as he looked for it in vain, de- claring that some infernal scoundrel, whose soul he devoted to the lower regions, had slipped in and stolen it while he was asleep. As there was no one to listen to this outburst but the unseen spy, it grew hotter and louder, until it was interrup by the hasty entrance of Ozark Alf. “Come out of this, Pete!” cried the outlaw chief. ‘‘There’s the devil to pay in the pass, and you’re wanted.” ‘* What's up?” asked Bigfoot Pete. “ We are attacked.” ** Who by?” “ That’s more than I can tell you yet.” “ Tl] bet a hoss that it’s about that gal. will be the ruination of us yet.” “Don’t talk like a fool,” replied Ozark Alf. “You are to be well paid for your share in the job, and what more do you care for?” “Td like to know what’s goin’ to pay a man fur bein’ all bu’sted up in business, and p'r’aps gittin’ his chunk put out.” “That is nonsense, Pete, If there was an army of them, they couldn’t get at us in a month of Sundays. Come along.” “ Wait a minute, Cap. Some onaccountable hellion has stole my canteen.” “Bah! You have mislaid it. say!” The man followed his chief out of the cavern, grumbling as he went, and Featherweight, re- flected upon the exciting news. He had not heard any of the shots that were fired outside; but it was plain that his friends and Sophie Mallory’s friends had sought the outlaws in their den, with the intention of routing them out and rescuing the young lady. Although this was cheering news to the prisoner, it was disheartening to learn from Ozark Alf that the stronghold could not be captured in a ‘“ month of Sundays.” Featherweight was sure that less than one week would settle his case, and that he would either be dead or a prisoner. He crawled back to the mouth of the hole, and listened. He heard an occasional shot, but nothing to indicate that his friends were making 3 progress, e was forced to pass another night in his dark and narrow prison, and the next day time passed more slowly and more disagreeably than ever, until the afternoon was well advanced. Then he heard a swift succession of shots, fol- lowed by cries of rage and triumph, that con- vinced him that some important advantage had been gained by one side or the other. He lay close to the mouth of the hole, and soon he heard a voice on the plateau, calling his name, He recognized the well known accents. of Herman Schweitopfel, and tried to answer him, but was so overcome by excitement at the moment that he could not speak. As soon as he regained his voice, he thrust: his head out of the hole, and shouted with a will; ‘* Hooray for our side!” She Come out, I CHAPTER IX. INSIDE THE STRONGHOLD. Ozark ALF’s discovery, which he believed he had made, of the fact that an unknown spy, who could not be seen or reached, was condested within the limits of his stronghold, gave him much uneasiness, ‘The death of one of the best members of his band, in an attempt to unearth the spy, put him in a very bad humor, He reported the discovery to Alfred Cres- well, who was much surprised and annoyed. The affair was so unaccountable and mysterious that they did not known what to think of it. It seemed to be impossible, the young chieftain said, for any human being to climb the cliff, and there was surely no other way to reach that hole in the rock. “T know of only one person,” remarked the i i ~~
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% Featherweight, the Boy Spy. 16° man from Memphis, “‘ whom I would bet on as being able to do it.” “Who is that?’ asked his son. “The young fellow I spoke to you about, who went back on me in Cairo. His name is Fred Light, I believe; but he is generally known as Featherweight. As he took up with Mallory and Sophie, it is likely that he is in this neigh- borhood.” “Whoever he is, dad, we have got him fast. I would not ask another man to go in there and get killed’ but we are sure to starve him out. “If it really is that young fellow, Alf, I know what the girl meant when she told us that she knew of our plan for catching her. The boy has been up here before, and has overheard us, and has reported to Sophie and Mallory.” ‘““'That don’t seem to be sen though it may be so. Let us go and tell her that we have caught him, and see how she takes it.” Sophie was bearing her captivity as patiently as she could. She had been given an apartment, if a separate portion of the cavern may be so called, to herself, and was comfortably lodged, although deprived of light and fresh air, The knowledge that Featherweight was near her, and the encouraging words he had spoken to her had cheered her considerably, and had caused her to hope that she might be rescued; but the time of her release might not be near at hand, and she settled herself to endure her im- prisonment, hoping that no worse fate was in store for her. When Ozark Alf and the man from Memphis appeared in her presence, she received them calmly and coldly, and her cousin hastened to astonish her. “T have a bit of news for you, Sophie,” he said. ‘* We have caught your young friend.” ‘““My young friend?” she asked, and her face turned pale as she thought at once of Feather- weight, whose words had been in her mind when they entered. “Your young friend who told you that your uncle and [ were going to take you away from that man Mallory. He was foolish enough to venture back here, and now we have got him.” “ What have you done with him?” she eagerly asked, forgetting all other considerations for the moment in her anxiety concerning the fate of the brave lad who had so signally befriended her. The meaning glances that passed between ber uncle and her cousin showed that they had been pumping her, and she wished that she had not spoken without stopping to think. “JT haven’t done anything with him yet,” re- lied Ozark Alf; ‘‘but he is shut up in a hole in the rock here, where he can’t get out, and he will have.to give himself up or starve to death.” = Perceiving that she had given her scheming relatives exactly the information they wanted, Sophie thought it best to say no more, and took refuge in silence. i The arrival of Sheriff Jarvis and his party caused.an excitement in the cavern, but no se- rious uneasiness, as Ozark Alf was sure that his fortress would hold out against any assault, and he did not fear a siege, After placing men Pe BE to guard the pass, he returned to the cavern and joined his father in an unsuccessful endeavor to sue? Sophie to assent to the terms they pro- posed. Late in the afternoon a stone with a paper wrapped around it was thrown up the pass to the plateau, and the paper was carried to Ozark Alf, It contained this writing: “Send down Frank Mallory’s wife, and we will let you alone. I have men enough to capture your whole gang if I want to. and you will have a hard time if you refuse our terms. ° “SHERIFF JARVIS.” The young chief of the outlaws immediately wrote a few words on the back of the paper, wrapped it around the stone and threw it down the pass. This was the message he sent back: ‘You had better keep away from here, or you will get hurt. You can’s take this position in a solid year. ; OzARK ALF.” The news of the attack on the stronghold was carefully kept from Sophie Mallory, Jest her hopes should be raised and her obstinacy in- creased; but it could not beso easily concealed from the other prisoner, who had been for so long a time an inmate of the cavern, and who was allowed to range at his will, within certain limits, which of late he had not attempted to pass, Old Martin Creswell noticed the excitement that prevailed in the cavern, and knew that something of importance had occurred. He watched, and listened, and asked questions, and soon learned that the stronghold of the outlaws was in a state of siege. This discovery put him in high glee, and when he met Ozark Alf, he taunted the ‘ora chief, and predicted his capture and the destruction of his band. ‘“‘ Didn’t I tell you so?” he exclaimed. ‘* Often I have said to you that the time would come, and would soon come, when this den of thieves shall be broken up, and I shall have my own again. That time is coming now. It has al- ready come.” “Don’t bother me with such jabber, Uncle Martin,” replied the young man. ‘‘ You are crazy, and don’t know what you are talking about. That party stands no better chance to get in here than you do to getout, and you know what that chance is worth,” When Sheriff Jarvis and his men had carried the pass, and had gained possession of the pla- teau, the old man again exulted over Ozark Alf, and predicted the speedy capture or death of himself and his band. ] “Go and take a rest, old man, and put your head in soak,” said the chief. ‘‘It is true that those folks are closer to us than they were, but they are not a bit nearer to getting at us, and they never will be.” At night Martin Creswell found himself alone in what may be called the main hall of the eav- ern, all the outlaws being on guard or asleep. He sat with his back against the rocky wall, and his head dropped upon his breast, as thoughts of his great losses, his long imprisonment, and his possible release, filled his troubled brain. A low whistle at his side startled him, and he stared about in amazement, ra gine
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16 Featherweight, the Boy Spy. The whistle was followed by a voice, that seemed to come from the rocks near his feet. “Uncle Martin! Uncle Martin!” “Who speaks?” he eagerly asked, trying in vain to locate the voice. “Hush! Not so loud! Iam your friend, and belong to the party outside here.” Ke he party that is going to break up this den of thieves, and give me my own again?” “That's the game we are tryin’ to play, Uncle Martin.” = ‘Where are you?” asked the old man. “ Down here in a hole in the rock. See where I move this stone.” A piece of rock was moved from its place, and a brown hand was thrust through the open- ing. R Can’t I get in there?’ asked Martin Cres- well. ‘*Can’t I leave this place by that way?” “No,” replied Featherweight, whose voice it was that came from the hole. “That stone is the only part of the rock that ain’t solid. I have tried to make the hole bigger, but it won’t work, and [ can’t much more than get my hand through it. You can do much more good in there, mister, than you can outside.” “What do you mean?” “T say, old gentleman, are you really crazy, or just puttin’ on?” “Tam not crazy,” replied the old man. ‘I have been wronged so deeply, and have been shut up here so long, that my head is not as clear as it has been; but it is strong and cool.” “Tf your head is level enough to stand it, I have got a big piece of news for you,” “T can bear good news, I am sure.” “Tt is about your daughter,” said the lad. “My daughter! Is she alive?” s ‘She is alive, but believes that you are dead. She is married to a young man of this neighbor- hood, a fine fellow named Frank Mallory.” “T pray God that I may soon get clear of this den, so.that I may hasten to go to my daughter.” “You wouldn’t have to go far, old gentleman,” said Featherweight. ‘‘ Ozark Alf and his father have stole her away from her home, and shut ber up in that cavern.” ae My daughter here, and a prisoner! and find her at once,” “Be quiet, and go easy. You promised to keep your head level and cool, and you mustn’t forget that, or you will do more harm than I will go ‘ood. “‘ What shall I do, then?” asked the old man. “Just keep your mouth shut and your eyes and ears open, and wait and watch for chances. Will you promise to do that?” ““T do promise, and hope for liberty.” **Good-night, then.” . roe after this interview Ozark Alf was surprised at receiving an application from Mar- tin Creswell for a gun, or a pistol, or a weapon of some sort. “What do you want with such a tool?” asked the young chief. “T want to help to defend this fortress,” re- plied the prisoner. ‘“‘What! you? I am afraid, old man, that Fou would be more likely to take the other side, ‘““Why should If You have treated me cruelly, but blood is thicker than water. You are my relation, and I want a chance to fight for you.” Alf could not be induced to see the matter in that light, and refused the old man’s request. But he soon missed one of his pistols, and looked for it in vain, and vainly searched Mar- tin Creswell, who denied all knowledge of the lost weapon. The young leader of the outlaws had other causes of uneasiness besides the loss of his pistol, and the greatest of these was a doubt of his ability to hold his castle against such a siege as has been begun, and a fear that he might run short of provisions. He was careful to conceal this doubt from his comrades, but communicated it to his father, whose anxiety was greater than his own. 5 wing tae that those people should be on the int of getting in here,” said the man from emphis, ‘‘ or that we should find ourselves in a ot being starved out, what could we do? Is there no other way to get out but this? Is there no back door to the den?” ‘Yes, there is another way out,” replied Ozark Alf, ‘‘ It is a hard road to travel, but we can get off by that way, if the worst comes to the worst. e would have totie the girl to a rope, and let her down over a steep bit of naire pry I don’t know whether she could stand that. “She would have to stand it, Alf.” CHAPTER X. FEATHERWEIGHT AND THE PANTHERS, HERMAN SCHWEITOPFEL was overcome with joy when he heard the welcome voice of Featherweight, and saw his young friend ese out his head from the hole in the cliff, He helped the lad up on the Epc and triumphantly led him to the headquarters of the besieging party which was located be- hind a pile of rock. There Featherweight was heartily welcomed by Frank Mallory and Sheriff Jarvis, who were anxious to hear what he had to tell, ‘Just give me a chance for my life first,” he said. ‘‘I am as hungry as a bear, and more thirsty than ag The sooner you fill me up the sooner 1 will tell you what you want to know.” His friends hastened to supply his needs, and while he was eating and drinking he re- lated his adventures and imprisonment in the hole in the rock. “‘T reckon you won’t want to stick your head in that hole again, my boy,” suggested Sheriff Jarvis. ‘But I will, though,” replied Feather- weight. “If lam sure that you folks will keep this end of the hole open, so that T can get out when I want to, I won’t hate it as T did when I was shut up. There’s more’n one thing to be looked after in this business,
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s Featherweight, the Boy Spy. i? Tcan tell you. The fuss is all about pro- perty, just as I said it was, Mr. Mallory. It seems that Miss Sophie ought to have a good bit of property of her own; but that man from Memphis has got it, and wants to keep it. There is another party mixed up in the tangle, who is a prisoner in there with her, and I reckon that he has been kept there a long time. Who do you think he is, now?” “You are too much for me this time, Fred,” said Mallory. ‘‘I was never good at conundrums,” “«Supposin’ you guess. “T give it up,” “A near relative of Miss Sophie.” “She has no brother, It can’t be possible that her father is alive and in there.” “‘That’s the party,” said Featherweight. **He is an old man, to judge by his looks, and his name is Martin Creswell.” “Does he know that Sophie has been cap- tured?” asked Mallory, ““Reckon he don’t, I doubt if Ozark Alf and the old rascal would be likely to tell him that, But he will know it to-night, if I can get a chance to talk to him.” “Do you think that will be safe, Fred?” asked Sheriff Jarvis. ““Don’t see why it shouldn’t. The folks in the cave want to make out that he is crazy ; but Pye a notion that he is tol’able level- headed. If he is, he can be useful to us in there, in more ways than one.” ‘*A sort of a fire in the rear, hey?” ‘* Somethin’ in that line. I mean to crawl in the hole to-night and watch for a chance to talk to him,” Featherweight did go into the hole that night and was quite jubilant when he came out and reported the success of his enter- prise. “The old man is right enough,” he said, “and I believe he will keep his mouth shut and his eyes open, as I told him to. So he can let us know what is goin’ on in there, and maybe he can help us when we get ready to make a dash.” “Ts there no danger, Fred?” asked Sheriff Jarvis, ‘that Ozark Alf may find you out and get hold of you?” “Not a bit of it, while this end of the hole is clear, and at the other end I can’t get in, and they can’t get out. Iam like the mouse ina holler log—I can see everybody, and nobody can see me. And that reminds me that there is one thing I haven’t told you about. There’s a back way to the cave, and those chaps can get out when they want to.” “T can’t believe it,” said the sheriff. “© Some of our men went around on that side of the mountain, and they looked as closely and carefully as men can look, but could find nothing of that sort,” It’s a man,” “But there is,” insisted Featherweight. “T heard Ozark Alf and that old wretch from Memphis talking about it. The young chap said it was a hard road to travel, but allowed that they could get out that way in apinch. Now, Mr. Jarvis, I would like to know, if you please, how you expect to get at them from this side?” “Well, my boy, we can only do what we are doing now. You saw in the daylight that we have built a piece of stone wall out from this pile of rock—a sort of breastwork, as I may say, covering the entrance to the cavern. We can lie behind that, you know, and gradually move it nearer to the hole, un- til we get them bottled up tolerable tight. That’s the only chance we have, as far as I can see.” “And that’s a mighty slow game,” said the lad. ‘‘I mean to start oat im the mornin’ and hunt that back way, and it will be queer if I don’t find it. Just now I am goin’ to get some sleep.” Early in the morning Featherweight was astir and ready to start. Herman Schwei- topfel was also on hand. ““T goes mit you, Feddervate,” said the German. “All right, Herman. I will be glad to have youalong. You will watch me and see that 1 don’t get into a scrape.” ‘*T vill see dot nobody puts you mit a hole in, mine boy, by shimminy! You gets in no more von dose tight blazes ven Herman goes mit you.” “‘ By thunder! Herman, I forgot about my horse. I left him tied down yonder at the foot of the cliff, and the poor feller must be starved to death by this time, if he hasn't broke loose.” ‘Dot hoss vas alles recht,” said Herman. ““Ven I vent by dot walley, to look me about for mine Feddervate, I finds dot hoss dere, oond brings him oop, oond now he feeds mit dose udder hosses, by dot camp,” “How thoughtful you are, Herman! You are a perfect brick, smoothed and var- nished. Now we are ready to light out.” The journey was a long one, and the two friends, who were not as well acquainted with that region as the scouts who had pre- viously made the search, lost their way more than once, and became entangled in ravines and thickets, so that the day was nearly spent when they reached a position which they judged to be in the rear of the outlaws’ stronghold. Even when they had gained this position, they found themselves far below the point at which they were aiming, which seemed to be almost inaccessible by reason of a succession of ridges and precipices, intersected by difli- cult ravines,
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13 Featherweight shook his head as he looked ap at the rugged hights, and realized the ex- tent of the task he had undertaken. “It isno wonder, Herman,” he said, “ that those men gave it up as a bad job, and said that a back door to that den couldn’t be found.” “An eakle might find him dot back door,” remarked Herman, ‘‘ aber dese legs vas nefer made for climbin’ dose mountains ofer.” “But my legs were made for just that sort of a job, Herman. If I knew what point to strike for, you may bet your yager that I would reach it. But it is too late to go into the climbing business to-day, and we had better find a good place to camp, and tie our horses for the night.” They found asuitable place under the trees, near a brook, where there were some patches of grass, There they unsaddled the horses, and gave them a chance to graze. “ Before it gets dark,” announced Feather- weight, ‘‘I reckon we may as well scout around here a little. We have got to put in our time somehow, and we might strike a trail or something.” They had not gone far from their camp when they did come across a trail. It was a small one, and little used, but could easily be distinguished, and it apparently led direct to the hights. “‘[t is a horse trail,” decided the lad, as he knelt down and examined it closely. ‘‘ Any- how, I am sure that horses have gone over it, and you and I can go, Herman, where horses have gone.” “Dot vas so,” replied Herman. ‘‘I will climb yoost so much like anybody’s hoss.”’ * Now, Herman, I want to go down this trail a little way, to see where it leads to, and I wish you would stay right here until I get back, to mark the place where we struck the trail when we came from the camp.” Herman grumbled at this request, but finally yielded, “Now, you Feddervate,” he said, ‘don’t you go auf to get yoursellef von dose holes ouet, or you makes troubles mit me.” “All right, Herman. I will mind my eyes, and bring myself back safe and sound, ee if I don't.” Featherweight followed the trail over a wooded slope, and down a long ravine, for half a mile or so, but saw no change in its character or its general direction... Unwill- ing to turn back without learning something more, he followed it further, until he came to a little lake among the hills, around the edge of which the trail seemed to lead. Asit was clearly useless to continue that search any longer, and as he knew that Her- man must be getting uneasy, he had made up his mind to return, when his attention Featherweight, the Boy Spy. was attracted by some kittenish noises, and he saw two brown animals, considerably larger than kittens, rolling and tumbling about as they played on the wild grass near the lake, He had never before seen anything of the kind, but guessed at once that they were cub panthers, and was instantly seized by a boyish desire to capture and carry away ene of the young things, It would be such a surprise to Herman, and something so fine to show to Mallory and his other friends. He had no difficulty in catching one of the cubs, though it cried and scratched, and he was obliged to drop his rifle until he could tie its paws with his handkerchief, But the cry of the cub had reached the sharp ears of its mother, and a wild, unearth- ly scream warned Featherweight of his.dan- ger. The she panther was close at hand when she sereeched, and directly she came bound- ing toward the lad, her eyes blazing with anger, Featherweight at once dropped the strug- gling cub, picked up his rifle, and fired with a hurried aim at the beast as she crouched for a spring. The shot struck her in the breast, and shortened her spring without preventing it. She struck the ground near the lad’s feet, and howled and tore up the ground in her agony as she strove to get at him. He was glad to get out of her way until he reloaded his rifle and sent a bullet through her brain. He was still trembling with the excite- ment of this encounter, when another yell, also close at hand, pierced his ears, and this was followed by yet another from a little distance. Then other screams, further away, but hardly less frightful because of the distance, broke upon the dusky air, until the moun- tains seemed to be alive with panthers, Featherweight knew that the mate of the panther he had killed was hurrying to her rescue, and that his yells had aroused others of his tribe who were hot for combat. The lad did not lose his presence of mind, but grew cooler and calmer as the danger in- creased and came closer to him. His rifle was empty, and he knew that it would be useless to attempt to escape by flight; but something must be done immediately to save his sealp. In this emergency he fortunately remem- bered hearing an old hunter say that a panther cannot be induced to enter the water, and there was the lake! Slinging his cartridge box over his shoul- der and holding up his rifle, he dashed into the water, and waded until it was breast deep around him, turning just in time to
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Featherweight, the Boy Spy. face the panther’s mate as he came bounding out of the timber. As the beast stopped at the shore, lashing his tail in anger and screaming savagely, Featherweight knew that he had been told the truth, and that he was as safe in the water as if he had been surrounded by a stone wall. Accordingly he inserted a cartridge in his rifle at leisure, took a careful aim, and fired, his bullet striking the beast near the fore-leg and knocking him over at once. With a yell of pain he crawled away and laid down by the carcass of his mate. Before the lad could reload, a third pan- ther appeared upon the scene, and soon a fourth was added to the number of his ene- mies; but their presence neither frightened nor annoyed him, as he had plenty of cart- ridges, and knew that he was in a safe posi- tion. A few well-directed shots left him master of the field, and then he waded ashore and made sure that the beas:s could do no further harm. As darkness was rapidly coming on, he hastened to return to his friend, thankful that he had escaped so great a peril. He no longer thought of carrying away one of the cubs, but left them whining and smelling about the body of their dead mother, CHAPTER XI. FINDING THE BACK DOOR. Wuen Featherweight reached the spot where he had left Herman Schweitopfel, he found his friend in a state of great anxiety and excitement, which was scarcely lessened by the safe arrival of the lad. “Vhere vas you been all dese times, Fed- dervate?” was his anxious inquiry. ‘‘ Mine Gott in Himmel! you vas make yourself all vet ofer. Vas you tumblet some rifer in down dere? How you gets all dose scratches, hey? Oh, mine boy! mine boy you vas put yoursellef some more von dose scherapes in, oond I leaf you go all alone mit yoursellef.” “Tt’s all right, Herman,” assured Fred. ‘I have been in, a gay old scrape, bet your life —just about the liveliest racket Iever struck. But I came out as sound as a dollar and at the top of the market.” The lad proceeded to relate his adventure with the panthers, which caused his friend to open his eyes to their widest extent, and to splutter out a variety of solid German ejaculations. : “Dot vas a lifely ragget, by shimminy!” exclaimed Herman. ‘‘I vas nefer hear anyt'ings like dot before already. Four pant’ers comes at you oond you kills dem all! Ifit vas anybody but yoursellef, mine 19 boy, vot tells me dot, it vould be a lie so big like a mountain, Oond so dose pant’ers don’t like vasser? Vell, I don’t know as I blames dem for dot. I vonder, now, if dey would drink beer? Oh, Feddervate! 1 nefer leafs you go off alone some more.” “Tt wasn’t my fault, Herman. I never tried to pick a fight with the panthers.” “‘T yoost vonder, Feddervate, vy you didn’t pick you some odder cub up and bring some more pant’ers on.” “Never mind, old boy, We will go out together in the morning, and you shall take care of both of us. Just now we had better get back to camp and lay in some grub and go to sleep.” Early the next morning the two friends broke camp, leaving their hor:es picketed where they could graze, and took the trail that Jed to the hights. Although steep and rugged, it was not a very difficult path to follow, and occasionally they could distin- guish horse-tracks, which led them to believe that it had been used by the outlaws in reach- ing their den. But the hot sun and the rough climbing told heavily upon poor Herman, who panted and perspired as he toiled up the rocky way, and he was obliged to stop and rest now and then, while he envied the ease with which his young friend mounted the hights. J Slow traveling and frequent halts length- ened out the morning, making the journey more tedious than Featherweight had expect- ed to find it, and it was noon when they reached a ledge, near the summit of the mountain, where their further progress. was stopped by a high and overhanging cliff. This precipitous mass of rock ran along the ledge as far as it reached, and on the face of the cliff nature had written in the plainest language, ‘‘ No Thoroughfare.” The scouts examined the ledge closely, but found no sort of an opening or passage to the top, and it was clear that the trail which they had been following ended near the foot of the cliff, at aspot where Featherweight, after a careful search, discovered the last of the horse-tracks. ( “‘Dose hosses vas nefer climb so mooch higher dan dis,” averred Herman. ‘‘ Ve shtops vere dose hosses shtops, oondnow ve vas played ouet, mine boy.” “T don’t feel like giving it up so,” declar- ed Fred, ‘“‘not by a long shot. But this thing is mortal queer, and it beats my time. It is easy enough to see that the trail ends here, and that the horses stopped here; but why was the trail ever made, and why were the horses brought here, just to run up against this rock and go no further?” “Dot yas a gone-under-um, Feddervate, oond I gifs if up.”
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“‘ Nobody is likely to take such a trip for nothing,” resumed the lad. ‘‘ Nobody would make the tramp up here and bring a horse just to get a sight of the view, though it’s a mortal fine one, by thunder! There must be some way to get to the top of that cliff.” “ Aber you can’t see dot vay, mine boy.” ‘But there 7 a way. Yes, I’ve got it now, sure pop!” “Vot vas you shtruck mit yoursellef, den?” “Why, Herman, I heard Ozark Alf say that the back way out of the den was a hard road to travel, and that they would have to lower Miss Sophie down with a rope.” “Mine Gott in himmel! She could nefer shtand dot!” “She would fave to stand it, as that old hog from Memphis said. Don’t you see, Herman? They have brought loaded horses up here, and have pulled the load up to the top with a rope, and then the horses have been taken back. The gameis plain enough now.” Featherweight walked along the foot of the cliff, carefully examining its rugged face, and shook his head sadly as he perceived . how the mass of rock overhung him. “T wonder if I could climb that cliff,” he said, musingly. Herman expressed the opinion that he might as well try to climb the under side of a rainbow. *‘It does look that way,” replied Fred; “but it is just wonderful, Herman, how much easier than they look some things get to be, when you go right ahead and take hold of them.” “ Aber dere vas nottings on dot rock vot you takes holdt mit,” suggested Herman. “Tt would be a rough job, and that’s a fact, and I wouldn’t like to tackle it and con- tract to go through. But I am ready to bet that I could climb up tol’able high.” “Oh, Feddervate! Feddervate! Look oop! Look oop! By shimminy! vot vas dot, anyway?” When the lad stepped forward and looked up toward the summit of the cliff, he was not surprised at his friend’s excitement. ‘‘ Dot” was evidently a woman, seated upon a piece of plank fastened to a rope that was being let down from above, and she herself seemed to be securely tied to the rope. This much could easily be seen, but those who held the rope were not at the moment visi- ble. Featherweight’s keen sight and quick judg- ment took in the situation at once. “Run in under the cliff, Herman!” he said, ‘‘Be quick about it! They haven’t seen us, and they mustn’t, This 7s the back door of the den, old boy, and it is Miss Featherweight, the Boy Spy. Sophie that they are letting down with that rope.” ‘Mine gracious! Vas efer anyt’ings like dot?” exclaimed Herman, as he hastily obey- ed this direction. “We have struck the right place, Her- man, and have struck it just at the right time. You must hide here, and watch her until she reaches the ledge. Then cut her loose as quick as you can, and bring her in under the rock.” “Vot vill you be doin’ mit yoursellef, den, right avay?” demanded the Teuton. “Tam goin’ to climb up here and block the rest of the game.” “You gets yoursellef some more shcrapes in, Feddervate. You shuts yoursellef up mit some odder holes in.” “Have your knife ready, Herman, and at- tend to business, and never mind me.” The German eagerly watched the descend- ing piece of plank and its burden, which was being slowly lowered from the summit of the cliff 10 the ledge. The seated woman was motionless, and it was evident that her arms were so securely bound to the rope that she could not move them. As she approached the ledge, Herman recognized the features of Sophie Mallory, and stood ready with his knife to free her, As she reached the ledge she was pale and trembling; but her eyes opened, and her face flushed brightly, when Herman darted for- ward to assist her. She knew him at once, and her exclamations of surprise and joy quickened him to his work. He hastened to draw her in, as she was, under the shadow of the cliff, and rapidly - plied his knife in cutting the bonds that se- cured her to the seat and the rope. In a few minutes she was free, and he as- sisted her to arise, and helped her to a seat on a flat rock, as she was so exhausted that she was unable to stand. “Sit you yoost here, miss,” said Herman, ‘‘oond be so easy Jike you can, vile I goes oond looks me about a leedle.” He stepped out from the shadow of the cliff, and looked up toward the summit. The first thing he saw was a man slidin down the rope. Apparently the outlaws fied not been willing to trust it with a double weight, and had sent this man down as soon as Sophie Mallory had reached the ledge. But this was not all that Herman saw. Fred Light, in his close examination of the face of the cliff, had observed a series of rugged points of rock, which he believed would give him a hold for his hands and feet, and these led toa break in the rocky wall which might afford a pathway further on and up. As soon as he saw the rope and the bur-
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Featherweight, the Boy Spy. 21 hn - den that was being lowered, a plan of action was formed in his mind. After giving Her- man his hasty directions, he ran to the spot he had noticed, and began the ascent of the shelving face of the cliff. The task was a difficuit and dangerous one; but, by exerting all his strength and ac- tivity, he reached the break in the rock, where his progress was much easier and safer until he had passed the curve and reached a point where the cliff was nearly perpendicular. Here he found himself almost half-way to the summit, and within easy reach of the rope. Looking up, he saw a man descending, and he at once grasped the rope with one hand, and cut it with his sharp knife, letting the severed portion drop upon the ledge. The man above him looked down, and, seeing the mischief that had been done, ut- tered a yell. Featherweight immediately crept down under the curve, just in time to escape a pistol-shot from the summit. He found the descent even more difficult than the ascent had been; but he was then sheltered from the fire of the outlaws, even if they had not been too busily engaged in pollns up their comrade to pay attention to im. CHAPTER XII. SAFE AT LAST. _ ‘Dor Feddervate is der tyfel!” exclaimed Herman, when he perceived how his young friend proposed to block the game of the men at the top of the cliff. The cut rope fell nearly at his feet, and he stared upward in amazement as he saw the predicament of the outlaw who had been coming down in such a lively fashion. A bullet from above, that whizzed by his head. startled him out of his attitude of ad- miration, and compelled him to take shelter -under the cliff, where he pointed out Feath- erweight to Sophie Mallory, and both watched, in silent and almost breathless interest, his descent of the shelving rock. The lad safely reached the ledge, and was warmly greeted- by Sophie, who hugged him _ in the excess of her joy. “You dear, good, brave fellow,” she ex- claimed. ‘‘How glad I am that you are safe, and how thaniaful that you have saved me. How shall I ever prove my gratitude for all you have done for me?” “You don’t have to do anythin’ of the kind, Miss Sophie, It’s nothin’ but fun to me, you know.” “Flow did you happen to be here, Fred, just in the nick of time? Ido not under- stand it a bit. Please tell me all about it.” “Tcan’t do that just now, Wait till we ' can feel safe. If we are strong enough to travel we must get away from here as fast as we can.” “Dot vas so,” remarked Herman, ‘‘ oond ve must look pooty sharp ouet or dose peo- ples will shoot us de heads off.” This was indeed a serious danger, which had to be carefully avoided. Featherweight led his companions along the ledge, keeping them well under the cover of the cliff, until they reached a place where there was a sharp descent, and down this they ran, one at a time, to fresh cover. Half a dozen shots were fired at them from the top of the cliff as they made the break, but they were pretty well out of the reach of their enemies, and were unharmed by the flying bullets. Then they regained the trail, and Herman and Fred assisted Sopbie Mallory down the rugged path until they reached their camp, when she was mounted on Featherweight’s horse, and they started to return to their friends, It was then near the close of day, but it was thought best to get as far on the route as they could, although they did not be- lieve that. pursuit would be possible. When Scphie pressed for an explanation of their arrival at the foot of the cliff just as they were needed, Fred Light told her of what he had heard Ozark Alf say concerning the back door of the cavern, and how he and Herman had come to look for that back door, “It was only by good luck that we hap-' pened to get there just as they were letting you down,” he said. “Tt was more than lucky,” she replied; ‘‘and I thank the Lord who sent you there in time to save me, My uncle and cousin must have made up their minds soon after you heard them talking about running me off. They came to me this morning, and told me that I must go on a journey. I asked them what they were going to do with me, and they said that they meant to take me to Memphis. I begged them to let me re- main where I was, as I would at least be nearer to Frank, and Uncle Alfred told me that I might stay if I would sign a paper that he had written. I refused to do so, and they took me out on the rocks, after makin me pass through a hole where J had to craw on my hands and knees. «Three other men went with them, and they carried a long rope, and took me to the edge of that fearful place. There they said that I would have to be tied and let down over the rocks alone. I told them that the fright would kill me, if nothing else, and begged them not to treat me so cruelly. They offered me another chance to sign the paper, and promised me that if I would do so I should have no further trouble; but L
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82 Featherweight, the Boy Spy. refused toobey them. I donot know whether I would really have lost anything by signing it; but I was determined not to gratify them if it cost me my life.” “Bully girl!” exclaimed Fred Light. ‘1 beg your pardon, Misc Sophie, I meant to say that you were real plucky, and I am ever so proud of you.” “Perhaps I might have signed it, Fred, if it had not been for what you said fo me when I was in that cavern. When they tied me to a piece of plank and the long rope, I shut my eyes and gave up, as I fully expected to die. I did not faint, for a wonder, but was more dead than alive when at last I touched the rock below. Then I opened my eyesand saw what I never expected to see again—a friend!” “Dot vas me,” said Herman, with a grunt of satisfaction. “Do you know whether those chaps had another rope, Miss Sophie?” asked Feather- weight. “They brought only that one from the cavern,” she replied. “Tt ain’t likely that they had another, though maybe they might make one by tyin’ a lot of halters or picket-ropes together. But their game has been blocked for awhile, anyhow, and I don’t believe there is any danger of their gettin’ after us to-night. So we had better hunt a place in the brush and go into camp.” Early the next morning they set out again, and reached Sheriff Jarvis’s camp at the foot of the pass before the sun was three hours high, Featherweight left Sophie at the camp with Herman and went up on the plateau to find Frank Mallory and the sheriff. They were overjoyed at seeing him, and congratulated him on his safe return, saying that they feared that he and his friend had got lost in the mountains, or had possibly gotten into the hands of the outlaws. “Not that, anyhow,” replied the lad. “You may just bet your last dollar that they would never take us alive, unless they came on us when we were asleep. We did lose our way more than once, but found it as often as we lost it, and i did get into a pretty tight pinch of a scrape; but here we are, safe and sound, and we ain’t a bit ashamed of our work, either.” “What was your work, my boy?” asked the sheriff. ‘Did you do any better than the men I sent around there?” “Well, Cap, I shouldn’t wonder if our eyes were a little sharper than theirs.” “Do you mean to say that you have found the hack door that Ozark Alf spoke about?” “That is just the very thing that we have found, Cap. It isa hard road to travel, as . the chap said, and I wouldn’t bet a cent on your gettin’ into the cave by that trail.” “Then your discovery is of no use to us, after all.” ? ‘* Well, reckon you will think it is of some use when you come to look into it a little. We have brought a party back with us who has traveled over the.road.” “Why, then, do you say that we cannot. pass there?” impatiently asked Frank Mal- lory. ‘‘ We can get where a man has gone.” “This party only traveled it one way, and wouldn’t want to make the trip again.” “You are talking very strangely, Fred Light, and for one I confess that I do not understand your meaning. Where is the party of whom you speak?” “Down yonder in the camp.” “Come, Captain Jarvis, let us go and see him.” “‘Come on, then,” said Featherweight, “and I will interjuce you.” The ‘‘ party” to whom he referred, as may be surmised, was Sophie Mallory, and his purpose had been to prepare a joyful sur- prise for her husband. Sheriff Jarvis was as much astonished and delighted as Frank him- self, and praised Fred highly for his intelli- gence and skill and pluck, though the lad de- clared that it was only his good fortune that had brought him to the right place at the right time, “‘T say, Fred,” whispered Mallory, when the excitement of meeting Sophie had partly subsided, ‘‘did you tell her about the other party ?—the old man, you know.” “‘T didn’t dare to,” replied Featherweight, “She was so badly upset, that I was afraid it might worry her too much.” “But she must know it.” “Yes, I reckon she ought to.” “What are you two whispering about?” asked Sophie. “The fact is, my dear,” said Mallory, ‘that we have some important news for you —news of your father.” “Why, Frank, my father has been dead these many years.” “There may be some mistake about that, Sophie. I think thereis. Our young friend here tells me that he has seen your father lately, and has talked with him,” “Seen and talked with my father? Is it possible that he is alive? Why, then, is he not here?” “Cause he can’t get here,” briefly replied Featherweight. “ Where is he?” “Tn the cavern up yonder, where those two devils, your uncleand your cousin, have kept him a prisoner for ever so long.” ‘*May the Lord avenge him! It is a won- der if it has not driven him crazy.”
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Featherweight, the Boy Spy. 23 *« Those scamps want to make out that he is crazy,” said Fred; ‘‘but I reckon they know better. He says that his head is level enough, and I think it is.” The lad then related to Sophie so much of his adventures in the hole in the rock as coy- ered the first appearance of Martin Creswell and his subsequent interview with the old man. Between joy and grief she hardly knew whether to laugh or cry, and did both by turns. But she closed the performance by giving Featherweight a succession of sis- terly hugs. ““What a blessing you have been to me!” she said, ‘‘ You have saved me from all my perils, and if my father is ever rescued from that den of thieves, it is you I have to thank for it. But what are you going to do, my friends?” she asked, turning to Sheriff Jar- vis and her husband. “Iam safe, but my poor father is a prisoner, and what will be- come of him?” “You know, Sophie, that I will do my best to serve youand rescue him,” said Frank Mallory, ‘“and I am sure that we can depend upon our good friends here-” “For my part, Mrs. Mallory,” said Cap- tain Jarvis, ‘“‘I mean to see this thing through, not only for your sake and your husband’s, but because I am hot for the scalps of those cussed thieves. They have troubled this country long enough, and it 1s time they were cleared out.” CHAPTER XIII. DISARMING THE ENEMY. LeAvrine Frank Mallory with his rescued wife, Featherweight and Herman Schweitop- fel accompanied Captain Jarvis up on the plateau, to observe the siege of the outlaws’ fortress. They perceived that progress had been made during their absence, and that it seemed to be sure, although it was undoubtedly slow. Starting from the rocky mass on the plateau that has frequently been mentioned, they had thrown up a breastwork of broken rock, covering the entrance to the cavern, and long and high enough to protect several men. A portion of the force behind this breast- work acted as sharpshooters, and did their work so effectively that not one of the out- laws dared to expose any portion of his per- son. The others were employed in bringing the breastwork nearer to the cliff, by moving forward the stones of which it was com- posed. This operation had proceeded so far that when Featherweight returned from his suc- cessful expedition he found the stone ad- vanced to the cavern entrance, where it stood like a two-sided pyramid, completely ” blocking up the pass, and shutting Ozark Alf and his men within their fortress. “You have got the* hole stopped up tol’able well, Cap,” said the lad. ‘‘ Those chaps are near about bottled up, as a body may say. But you ain’t in there yet, and I don’t rightly know how you expect to get in.” ‘‘T see nothing more that we can do,” re- plied Sheriff Jarvis, “except to keep movy- ing that pile of rock forward, and so close in on them.” : “Aber ven you drifes in dot cork so tight like nefer vas,” suggested Herman, ‘* you goes not in mit dot cork. You stays by de oudside.” “True enough, my friend; but as we can’t get in, we must at least try to prevent those rascals from getting out, and I think we have done that job pretty well.” Just at this instant a fierce yell and a rat- tling volley came to disprove this confident assertion. 7 Captain Jarvis believed that he had guard- ed against a sally by placing marksmen so that their rifles would cover the entrance of the cavern and the top of the breastwork; but they had grown negligent of their duties, and the sudden rush of the outlaws had com- pletely surprised the entire party. With a wild yell Ozark Alf and his men had darted out of the cavern, climbing to the top of the barricade, and had delivered a rapid volley, right in the faces of their be- siegers. In a moment all was confusion. Nothing could be heard but shots and cries, and little could be seen but the smoke of the conflict. But the besiegers rallied immediately, and by a close and well-directed fire drove their assailants back into the cavern. At the conclusion of this brief engage- ment it was discovered that Jim Breen had been instantly killed, and that Sheriff Jarvis was slightly and another man seriously wounced. The body of Breen was carried down to the camp at the foot of the pass, whither the weunded repaired to attend to their hurts, but not until Captain Jarvis had taken measures to guard against another sortie. Fred Light remained on the plateau with Herman, whose short and heavy rifle had done good service in the fight. The lad was seated near the rocky pile, apparently in a deep study. ““Vot you makes now, Feddervate?” asked Herman. ‘Vas you played ouet?” ‘Not yet, old boy. I am tryin’ to get an idee through my head.” ‘“You vas besser leaf dose idees mit dem- sellefs. Dey brings you some more schrapes “1 am thinkin’, Herman, that this is
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74 Featherwieght the Boy Spy. mighty slow work. We ain’t likely to get hold of those chaps by corkin’ ’em up in a bottle, and they are*liable to fly out at any minute and make a scatteration among us.” ““Dot vas so. Aber vot you makes mit dot?” . “It is my idee, Herman, that I must try to start some sort of a fire in the rear ag’inst ’em. I believe I will go into the hole in the rock again, and see if I can’t stir up old Mar- tin Creswell.” ‘Dot vas bad beeziness, Feddervate. Dot hole vas shtuffed mit schrapes full.” “But I mean to get you to stand watch at the opening, Herman, and then I won’t get into any scrapes. There ain’t abit of danger when there’s nobody to stop up that end.” “‘T shtands dot vatch, Feddervate, oond den if youcomes not ouet pooty quick, 1 goes in dot hoel minesellef.” “You had better not try it, Herman. You might get stuck in there, and that would make an end of both of us.” As Featherweight did not intend to go to work upon his new idea before night, he went down to the camp, and informed Sheriff Jarvis and Frank Mallory of his pur- ose. “T doubt if you can do anything in there, my boy,” said Jarvis, ‘‘and I don’t see how the old man can help us or help himself. But you seem to be always striking some- thing that nobody else would think of, and I reckon you had better go along if you want to.” “Tf you do get a chance to speak to Mar- tin Creswell,” advised Mallory, ‘‘ you ought to urge him to be as patient and as calm as he can. Idon’t know whether it would be well to tell him about Sophie.” “Oh, yes!” exclaimed Sophie. ‘ Tell my oor father that I am safe and well, and beg im for my sake to be careful of himself, as we hope soon to have him out of that den of thieves.” When the night was pretty well advanced, Featherweight let himself down from the edge of the cliff, and again entered the hole in the rock, while Herman Schweitopfel stood guard with his trusty yager, and await- ed his return. When he reached the further end of the hole, he saw a light burning in the cavern as usual, and there were two men in the main apartment, who were conversing in such low tones that he could not even catch an occasional word of what they said. ‘ He waited impatiently, and had begun to believe that his errand would be a fruitless one, when they at last brought their conver- sation tua close and went out. Immediately he was gladdened by the ap- pearance of Martin Creswell, who came in with his head bowed, and looking very sad. and broken. He seated himself near the hole at which Featherweight was watching, and the lad whistled as he had done before. “Thank God!” exclaimed the old man, and he bent his bead down to the hole. “Ts that you, my young friend?” he asked. “Yes, Uncle Martin; it’s me.” “T have been nearly crazy to speak to you. You told me what was not true.” ‘‘About what, sir?” ‘About my daughter. You said that she was here and a prisoner; but sheisnot. I have watched my chances, and have looked into every hole and corner in spite of them, and I know that she is not here.” “That's a fact, Uncle Martin, ’cause they took her away.” “* Who took her away?” “Ozark Alf and his dad. But it’s all right, Uncle Martin. We spoilt their game, and got holt of her on t’other side of the mountain, and brought her around here, and she is safe and well.” . “Where is she?” “Right near here with her husband and her friends.” “Ts that the truth that you are telling me?” eagerly asked the old man, “True as Gospel, Uncle Martin, and she wants me to say to you that you must take mighty good care of yourself, ’cause we hope to get you out of this afore long.” ““The Lord be thanked!” exclaimed the old man, ‘‘ Yes, my son, I will be careful. But I ama prisoner, and cannot get out to seemy child. What shall I do?” “Just Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut, as I told you afore,” warned Featherweight. “I say, Uncle Martin, what have they been doin in there lately?” ““They ran out of the cavern and had a fight. Since then they have been drinking and laughing, making their brags that they have killed several of your men. I heard their leader say to-night that they would soon clean out your party.” “Tt was a bad job, Uncle Martin, though they only knocked one of us stiff. But that sort of thing must be stopped, and there’s somethin’ for you to do, if you can do it so as to keep out of a scrape.” “What is it, my son?” “Tf you see any guns or pistols lyin’ around with nobody to watch ’em, just slip ’em into this hole.” Martin Creswell nearly screamed for joy. He jumped at the proposition with just such boyish delight as Featherweight would have ye if he had found himself there in his place. Te darted across the cavern, and directly - —— a Wesco
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» Featherweight, the Boy Spy. 25 returned with a rifle, which he handed down to Featherweight. «That had been left here,” he said. ‘‘ Wait a minute and I will get another. The man who owns it is asleep.” In a few moments he brought another rifle, which he thrust into the hole. “‘That’s enough for now,” said Feather- weight, who began to fear that his experi- ment might result in harm to the old man. ‘‘T can bring more,” assured Martin Cres- well. ‘‘But you mustn’t get excited about this thing, Uncle Martin. Go easy and keep cool. I will be here again afore mornin’, If you should happen to come across another gun or two, just slip ’em into this hole, 1 will show you h»w to move the stone. But you mustn't ever pick up one unless you are sure that nobody is lookin’, and that you won’t get in a scrape.” “‘T will be very careful, my son. You are going, then? Tell my dear child that 1 am dying to see her, Good-night, and God bless you! CHAPTER XIV. CAUGHT IN THE ACT. WueEN Featherweight had crawled back to the mouth of the hole, he found Herman Schweitopfel fretting and fuming about his was the very fear that had struck him sharp- ly when he received the rifles from the old man, and the danger of the task had then occurred to him. He told Sophie that he had cautioned her father, warning him not to do anything that might bring him into trouble, but this explanation did not seem to relieve her anxiety. “T am awfully sorry, Miss Sophie,” he said, ‘‘and I know that if anything happens to him it will be my fault; but I am going to do my best to straighten this thing out and keep him from getting into a scrape. I will go back into that hole right away, and will watch for a chance to speak to him, and will tell him that you say he mustn’t hand out uny more guns.” Sophie assured her young friend that she would not blame him, even if anything should happen to her father. He had be- lieved that he was doing right, and he must — pardon her for being so anxious and so easily troubled. But at the same time she thanked him for his offer, and begged him to com- municate with her father as soon as possible. Featherweight, who was greatly troubled and perplexed, hastened to go back and en- ter the hole in the rock, leaving Herman to mount guard at the opening. When he reached the further end, he was long stay. But the German’s anger was | more terrified than surprised at finding a quickly changed to surprise and admiration, when his young friend handed up the two rifles, and explained how he.had got them. “ Dose vas zwei guns vot dey von’t shoot at us some more mit,” consoled Herman. “‘Oond dot counts, by shimminy!” Featherweight hastened down to the camp to show his prizes to his comrades, who heartily congratulated him upon his success in disarming the enemy. ““Well, you ae a smart one,” declared Sheriff Jarvis, admiringly. ‘‘I am sure that T would never have thought of such a trick. Another stroke or two like that, and those scoundrels will have to run or surrender.” But Sophie Mallory was not the least bit enthusiastic over the exploit. She was so sad and silent that Frank asked her what it was that troubled her. “Tam sorry that this has been done,” she said. ‘‘I am afraid for my poorfather. He is old and broken, and perhaps his mind is not as clear as it should be. He cannot take up such a task and do it with the dash and secrecy that Fred Light would use. They will be sure to suspect him when they miss their guns, and I am afraid that they will find him out and take vengeance upon him.” This expression of Sophie's fear sent Fred at once to the low grounds of sorrow. It = ueows - rifle lying there, which had evidently been stolen from tke outlaws and thrust into the hole by Martin Creswell. He at once began to feel sure that Sophie Mallory’s forebodings would prove true, and he fairly ached to see her father and speak with him again. But he watched and waited in vain. When he first looked into the cavern no person was there. A light was burning dim- | ly, but all was silence for the space of what seemed to the lad to be a long half-hour. Then Ozark Alf, his father, and another man, came in silently and mysteriously. | They seemed to be much excited, but spoke so low that the lad could not hear what the said. Then they stealthily looked about the cavern, peering into all the corners and re- cesses. Then they conversed in whispers — again, and finally concealed themselves and kept silence. This concealment and the subsequent si-— lence were terribly oppressive to Feather- weight, who then felt sure that Martin Cres- | well was at least suspected, and that his outlaw relatives were bent upon catching him in the act of hiding their weapons. The lad could do nothing but wait, and he waited more impatiently than ever for the next act of this slow but exciting drama. At last the old man entered the cuvern -
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Featherweight, the Boy Spy, from some unperceived retreat, coming in as stealthily as the others had come. After looking to see if the apartment was empty, he disappeared. In a few minutes he re- turned, with a rifle in his hand. Again looking carefully about, to make sure that he was not observed, he approached the side of the cavern where the young spy lay con- cealed. Featherweight trembled with apprehen- sion, and was nearly driven wild by his de- sire to speak to the old man and warn him of his danger; but he saw Ozark Alf peep out from the corner in which he had concealed himself, and knew that it was too late to try to interfere. The mischief had been done, and he could only await the result. Martin Creswell stopped near the hole in the rock, and raised the stone which Feath- erweight had shown him how to remove. “Look out, Uncle Martin!” said the iad; but the old man did not hear that frightened whisper. He was about to slip the rifle into the hole, when he was startled by the voice of his nephew. “Hold on, there!’ shouted Ozark Alf, as he stepped forward, and at the same moment the other two men came out from their places of concealment. The old man turned, and stood at bay like a hunted beast. “Tt is you, then,” saidthe chief of the out- laws, who have been robbing us of our rifles. I suspected you all the time, in spite of the big lies you told.” “‘ How often have you lied to me?” sullen- ly answered the old man. “TI don’t care to count lies with you. 1 have caught you at this game, and now I mean to settle with you.” “‘T have only worked for my liberty,” said Martin Creswell. ‘‘ For years you have kept me a prisoner, and you have robbed me of my property and of my child. My friends are on the outside, trying to free me, and my daughter is with them. Ihave worked for ' my freedom, and am glad of it.” “How the deuce did you find out anything about your daughter?” asked Ozark Alf. “‘ Well, never mind; you shall have plenty of freedom after this, in another world.” The young outlaw had drawn a pistol from his belt, and the cruel gleam of his eyes told Martin Creswell that he meant murder. “Do you mean to kill me?” asked the old man. ‘‘ Are you going to end your outrages at last with the greatest crime of all? So be oe I will die knowing that this den of thieves will soon be broken up, and you will all be shot or hanged.” Ozark Alf raised his pistol—but the spy in the hole had no idea of remaining an inac- a tive witness of the tragedy that was intend- ed. As Martin Creswell had removed the stone that closed the small hole in the rock, Feath- erweight could not only see plainly into the cavern, but atso saw his way clear to make a move that might surprise somebody. If he could not prevent the death of the old man, he might at least avenge his murder. As the outlaw chief raised his pistol, Featherweight cocked his revolver, and pointed it through the small opening into the cavern, aiming at the breast of Ozark Alf. As Martin Creswell stood with his back against the rocky wall, his nephew took a steady aim at his head. “You are going to get your freedom right now,as soon as I count three,” said Ozark Alf. “One!” : Before he could say Jo, Featherweight pulled trigger, and the scene changed. CHAPTER XV. A BARREN VICTORY, Te concealed spy well knew that as soon as he fired his shot the hoje in the rock would be disclosed, and his presence would be discovered. Therefore he was prepared for a scamper, and he did scamper. Without stopping to pick up the rifle that he had found there, he hastened to get back into the hole as fast as his hands and knees would carry him, so that he might keep clear of possible bullets. The possible bullets came quickly enough. His shot was followed by such a wild and agonized yell that it sounded like a death- shriek, and then the muzzles of two weapons were thrust into the hole, and two shots, that nearly deafened him, and filled the hole with smoke, forced him to his best speed through the narrow passage. It seemed to him that he had never been so long in making the trip from one end to the other of that hole; that the rough places had never been so rough, or the close places so close. At last he reached the opening, and raised himself upon the platform, where, to his great surprise, he found Herman Schweitop- fel asleep and snoring. By vigorous shaking he aroused the Ger- man, who started up and stared as he no- ticed the pale face and wild eyes of his young friend. “Mein Gott in Himmel!” he exclaimed. “«Vot machst du, Feddervate? Vas you seen a shpook?” “No; but I have seen a murder. Come, Herman; I am afraid that they have killed Miss Sophie’s father in there, and I must go and help him.”
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Featherweight, the Boy Spy. 27 He ran around the pile of rock, and was about to mount the breastwork at the en- trance to the cavern, when Herman and an- other caught him and held him, ““Vot you does mit yoursellef, Fedder- vate?” excitedly asked the German. ‘‘ Mebbe you don’t want to die yoost yet already, hey? Come by dot camp down, oond tell dot zheriff oond Vrank Mallory. Den ve all goes in dere togedder.” Featherweight yielded to the force of his friends, and he suffered himself to be led, sad and dejected, down the steep pass to the camp. The first person he met was Sophie Mal- lory, who was awake and anxiously awaiting news of her father. He could not speak to her at the moment, but she read bad news in his face, “What has happened to my father?” she asked. ‘‘ Have they found him out and killed him?” «They have found him out,” feebly replied e lad, ‘‘and lam afraid they have killed him.” : Sophie would have fallen to the ground if she had not been supported by her husband, who came forward with Sheriff Jarvis. Under the questioning of the two, Feath- _ erweight told the story of his last adventure in the hole in the rock, and could not help telling it in such a manner that it confirmed the fears of Sophie. “‘T did what I could to help the poor old man,” he said. ‘‘I drewa bead on Ozark Alf when I fired, and meant to hit him in the breast.” a May Heaven grant that the shot was well aimed!” exclaimed Sophie. ‘‘ Perhaps they did not kill my poor father after all. Is there nothing we can do to help him?” “That was what I was going to try when they stopped me and pulled me back,” said Featherweight. ‘‘ Let's all make a rush now, and get into the cavern. There’s a fine chance. They have ‘lost their rifles, and I guess they are bothered some.” Sheriff Jarvis cautiously remarked that a dog that has lost three teeth can still bite pretty hard. is We are wasting time in talk,” said Sophie. “Tf anything is going to be done, it should be done right now.” ‘‘That’s so!” exclaimed Fred Light. ‘I mean to do something, if I have to do it alone, and I am goin’ into that den, if it’s the last act of my life.” “T am with you, my lad,” said Frank Mallory. “And I!” “And I!” shouted the others, There was no lack of volunteers, and Sheriff Jarvis, who had only feared to lose the lives of his men, consented to lead the party, ’ : It was near daybreak when they assem- bled on the plateau. Captain Jarvis told off the men who were to form the storming-party, which included himself, Frank Mallory and Fred Light. He stationed others where they could cover the route of the detachment and protect its retreat. All looked well to their rifles and pistols, and at the word of command the storming- party dashed up the breastwork. As silently as possible they swarmed up the rough pile of broken rock, and as silently descended on the other side, fully expecting to be received with such a fire as woul make a corpse of more than one of them. Featherweight was the first to get over the barricade, and the first to enter the cavern. No enemy met him, and there was none in sight. Indeed, there was nothing in sight, not even the rocky walls of the cavern. The main apartment was not illuminated by a fire, as he had previously seen it, nor was there any light burning. Those who had followed him over the bar- ricade speedily overtook him, and all won- dered at the absence of the enemies, and at the intense darkness and silence that prevailed. It was necessary to have lights before the situation could be fully understood, and con- siderable time was used in procuring torches. When they were at last brought up, a thorough and careful investigation of the den was then made, and the cavern was discover- ed to be a series of large and small apart- ments, all of which were connected with each other, and nearly all had been shaped and improved by the labor of the recent oc- cupants. In one of the large rooms were found more than a dozen horses, all of them in good con- dition, and some unusually fine animals were recognized by members of the party as hav- ing been stolen from people of their acquaint- ance. Elsewhere was a deep hole in the rocky floor, which proved to be a spring of pure water, and this was a valuable find for the new-comers. In another room were saddles and bridles and other horse gear, and blankets and vari- ous utensils were scattered about profusely; but nothing else of value could be discovered, and scarcely a morsel of food- remained for man. or beast. “They were starved out—thet is clear,” said Captain Jarvis, as he shook one of the empty meal-sacks. Featherweight, when the lights had been procured, had hastened to search the main apartment of the cavern, fully expecting to find the dead body of Martin Creswell lying on the rocky floor.
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He found nothing of the kind. There was a dead man there; but his face did not show the wrinkled skin and white beard of the poor old prisoner. He seemed to be the third man who had appeared on the scene with Ozark Alf and his father, when Martin Creswell was caught with a rifle in his hand, ‘“* How did this chap get killed?” he asked himself; ‘‘ and what has become of the old man?” “Is it my father? Is he dead?” asked Sophie Mallory, who came in at this moment with her husband, “This man is dead,” he replied; ‘‘ but it ain’t your father.” She stepped forward with a brighter look and a more lively gait, and calmly examined the features of the dead man. “T think I know him,” she said. ‘‘ Yes, I am sure I do, He was one of those who carried me away from my home.” “How did this man get killed, and what has become of the old gen’leman?’ asked the lad. ‘‘ That’s what’s botherin’ me.” ‘‘Let us hope that Mr. Creswell was not killed,” said Frank Mallory. ‘‘ Surely there is good reason for hope. They may have taken him away; but he must be alive, as they would not have carried off a corpse.” “Tt don’t seein to me that he has been killed, Mr. Mallory, Will you stand here, please? Now watch me till I show you how things were.” Featherweight crossed to the other side of the cavern, near the hole in the rock, and stood with his back against the wall. “There,” he said, pointing with his finger, “is the hole I peeped through and shot out of. Here the old gen’leman stood, just as I am standin’, There Ozark Alf stood, where Mr. Mallory stands. T’other chap stood nigh where he fell. The old scamp from Memphis stood kinder out of the way. There ain’t a bit of blood here, nor where Mr, Mallory stands; but there’s lots of it where that chap lies. What do you make of that, now?” “Tt looks to me,” replied Mallory, ‘‘as if neither of the men who were aimed at was rate Are you sure you aimed at Ozark 1f2” “Dead sure of that.” “Then you must have missed him. Any- how, I don’t believe that Mr. Creswell was shot here. They must have carried him off, and the question is, what has become of them all?” This was the question that Sheriff Jarvis and the others were then endeavoring to solve. They had searched through all the rooms avd recesses of the cavern, but had seen nothing of the outlaws, and had dis- Featherweight, the Boy Spy. covered no place of exit by which they could | possibly have made their escape. So they , came back to the main apartment, and re- | | y ported their discouraging failure. ““T hey hain’t gone off on horseback,” said Featherweight, ‘‘and they must have slipped out by the back door.” ““Just so, my boy,” replied Captain Jar- vis; ‘‘but where is the back door?” 1 ‘« Well, sir, there’s one of us who has been through there, and who hain’t forgot, I reckon. I mean Miss Sophie.” , “To be sure,” said Sophie. ‘I should _ have spoken sooner. It opens from the place where I was imprisoned. Follow me.” — She led the way into a low and narrow , \ apartment of the cavern, toward the further end of which she pointed. «There is a stone,” she said, ‘‘ which they pushed back when they took me out.” Immediately three men were pushing at the stone. It rolled away, leaving an open- ing through which the daylight came. Featherweight was the first to slip out through the hole. : “There they are!” he shouted, CHAPTER XVI. THE LAST BLOW. y Frank MAutory had conjectured rightly ’ when he said that neither of the shots fired | in the cavern had hit the person it was aimed’ at. Yet Featherweight’s pistol had caused a sudden shifting of the scene. When Ozark Alf had fully determined to make an end of Martin Creswell, he slightly f ¢ ¥ changed his position before he began to count, bringing his pistol hand across his breast. Featherweight’s bullet struck his pistol, knocking it out of his hand. Glancing off from the steel barrel, the pellet of lead flew into the brain of Precious Pink, the third man of the party, who fell to the floor, dead! The young chief instantly drew another pistol, and ran to the other side of the cav- ern, followed by his father, and both fired rapidly into the hole from which the shot’ had come. After waiting and listening for a few mo- ments, until they were forced to believe that they had not harmed the concealed spy, they went back and knelt by the side of Precious Pink, who was breathing his last. | “We must get out of this,” said Ozark Alf, as he rose, without paying any attention — at the moment to Martin Creswell. 4 When he saw the stock of provisions — diminishing until there was scarcely any food left.in the cavern for the men and the horses, he had known that he must soon escape with his band, and for that purpose had knotted pax,
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Featherweight, the Boy Spy. 29 _ together lariats and picket ropes enough to if enable them to descend the cliff. nd _The success of his sortie had encouraged him to hope that he might beat off the be- aa siegers and drive them away; but, when ae there were no provisions left, and three rifles _ and two men had been lost, he made up his Mind to slip away. This determination was communicated to the others, who made hurried preparations to I leave the cavern. “You are going with us,” said the young chief to Martin Creswell, who had not moved from the position he had taken when his life ” Was threatened. “T will not,” stubbornly replied the old Man. ‘‘] will stay here and meet my daugh- ter. You need not think you can escape. This den of thieves is broken upasI told you Y | — it would be, and you will all be hanged.” at | “Don’t bet too high on that, old man. a Anyhow, I don’t mean to leave you here.” In spite of his resistance, Martin Creswell ae Was bound hand and foot, and was dragged through the opening that was made by re- Moving a rock at the rear of the cavern. He Was then carried along the rugged mountain top, and was laid near the edge of the cliff down which his daughter had been lowered. The new rope was already in position, and the remaining members of Ozark Alf’s band Were descending, with their weapons and such provisions as they had left. Ozark Alf had announced his intention of remaining above until all his comrades were safe, although the man from Memphis begged him to escape while he could. “There ain’t a bit of danger, dad,” he re- plied. ‘‘ These folks won’t tackle us at close quarters after the lesson we gave them. “What will you do with this nuisance?” asked Alfred Creswell, touching the prisoner with his foot. “That depends, Iam strong enough to let him down, but I may get rid of him in an easier way than that.” When there remained only Ozark Alf and his father at the top of the cliff, the man from Memphis took his turn at descending the rope. He had let himself down scarcely a third 5 of the distance, when a thrilling shriek broke at upon the ears of his son, who hastily looked cy over the edge of the cliff and saw his father us lying in a heap on the ledge below. z | The man from Memphis was of heavy build, and the ropes bad been insecurely on. knotted. Under the severe and constant “~~ strain one of the knots had slipped, and it ns had been Alfred Creswell’s fate to be just od below that knot when the line parted. At that moment the shout of Feather- : a weight, as the lad emerged from the cavern, told him that his foes were upon him. The next moment he was covered by half a dozen* rifles, and Sheriff Jarvis ordered him to sur- render. It was useless to think of flying, and it would be madness to show fight against such overwhelming odds. But he had a resource to fall back upon for safety. He raised in his arms the bound and fragile form of Martin Creswell, and held him there at the edge of the cliff. “Hold on!” he shouted. ‘Stand right there, or over goes this old man!” “Save my father!” cried Bop’ as she ran forward and seized the arm of the sheriff. “Whatever you do, save my father!” The rifles were lowered, and Captain Jar- vis began a parley with the outlaw chief, the result of which was that he was to be allowed to leave the country, and Martin Creswell was restored to his daughter, whose grati- tude for his safety compensated her friends for the loss of the principal offender. “Where is that old scamp from Mem- phis?” asked Featherweight, who had looked about in vain for Alfred Creswell. “That old scamp from Memphis, as you call him,” replied Ozark Alf, ‘‘lies dead at the foot of the cliff here.” “We must bury him,” said Sophie. “Never mind that, I will bury my own dead. If you will give me some rope, so that I can lengthen out this line, I will go down after him, and will give no more trouble to any of you.” He was supplied with rope, and was left to his own devices, while Sheriff Jarvis and his party returned to the cavern and pre- pared to leave the mountains. The horses that were found in the outlaws’ den were carried away by their captors. Those whose owners were known were re- turned to them again, and the others, with the rest of the captured property, were di- vided among the members of Sheriff Jar- vis’s party. Martin Creswell speedily gained in health and vigor, and his mind, which had been greatly weakened by his misfortunes, recoy- ered most of its strength and clearness. As soon as he was able to do so, he went to Memphis with his daughter and son-in- law, where the property of which he had been robbed was restored to him without much difficulty, Fred Light and Herman Schweitopfel, at the request of their three friends, accom- panied them to Memphis. Their evidence was valuable in straightening out the tangles of Martin Creswell’s estate, and they re- ceived for their arduous and dangerous ser- vices such rewards as they could not refuse, THE END,
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. — 80 Kentucky Ben, the Long Rifle of the Cascades. By Roger Starbuck, 81 The Kit Oarson Club. By T. C. Harbaugh. 82 Little Buck, the Boy Guide. By Barry Ringgold. 88 Pony Bob the Reckless Rider of the Rockies. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 84 Captain Fly-by-Night. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 85 ca tain Ralph, the Young Explorer. By C. Dunning ark, 86 Little Dan Rocks. By Morris Redwing. S87 The Menagerle Hunters. By Maj. H. Grenville. 88 The Boy Tramps; or, Life Among the Gipsies, By . M. Hoffman. 89 *Longshore Lije. By C. D. Clark. 90 Roving Rifle, Custer’s Little Scout, By T. C. Harbangh, 91 Oregon Josh, the Wizard Rifle. By Roger Starbuck. 92 Hurricane Kit. By A. F. Holt. Jumping Jake, the Colorado Circus Boy. By Bryant Bainbridge. Spence, the Broadhorn Boy. By Ed. Willett. Siberin; or, A Yankee Boy to the Rescue. By les Morris. 96 Fighting Fred; or, The Castaways of Grizzly Camp. By T. C. Harbaugh. 97 Cruise of the Flyaway; or, Yankee Boys in Ceylon. By C. Dunning Clark. 98 The Boy Vigilantes; or, King Cole and His Band. By Maj. H, B. Stoddard. 99 The White Tigers; or, Silver Rifle, the Girl Tracker Superior. By Capt. Charles Howar now-Shoe Trail; or, The Forest Desperadoes. By St. George Rathbone. 101 Mariano, the Ottawa Girl; or, The Mysterious Canoe. By Edward S. Ellis, 102 The Flyaway Afloat; or, Yankee Boys "Round the World. By ©. Dunning Clark. 108 Pat Mulloney’s Adventures} or, Silver Tongue the Dacotah Queen. By C. L. Edwards, 104 The Boy Prospector; or, The Secret of the Sierra Ravine. By Roger Starbuck. - 105 Minonee, the Wood Witch; or, The Squatter’s Secret. By Edwin Emerson. 106 The Boy Cruisers; or, Joe and Jap’s Big Find. By Edward Willett. 107 The Border Rovers; or, Lost on the Overland Trail. By J. Milton Hoffman. 108 Alaska, the Wolf-Queen; or, The Girty Brothers’ Double Crime. By Capt. Howard Lincoln. 109 Chitetian Jim, the White Man’s Friend. By Edward S. Ellis. 110 Plucky Joe, the Boy Avenger; or, Dick Belmont’s Last Ride. By J. Milton Hoffman. 111 The Border Guomaker; or, The Hunted Maiden, By James L. Bowen. 112 Lett-Handed Pete, the Double-Knife. By Joseph ¢. Badger, Jr. 118 The River Rifles; or, The Fato of the Flathoat. By Capt. J. F.C. Adame, 114 Alone on the Plains. By Edward Willett. 115 Silver Morn, and His Rifle Firedeath. By Roger Starbuck. 116 Exploits of Hezekiah Smith, the Backwoodsman. By Emerson Rodman, W177 The Young Mustangers; or, Dick Merry’s Rang ers, By C. Dunning Clark. 118 Old Traps; or, tho I Rivals. By Barry Ringgold. 119 Center Shot, the White Crow, or, Roving Rifle’s Firat Campaign. By T. C. Harbaugh. 120 A Hot Trail; or, Clark Cloverly Among the Tartars. By Charles Morris ‘ Pard Ben; or, The Wakash’s Blind Lead. By Roger Starbuck. 422 The Esquimaux’ Queen; or, The Mystery of the Lone Hut. By G. Waldo Browne. 128 Tim, the Boy Acrobat; or, Life in the Cireus Ring. By Charles Morris. 124 Queen Bessie, the Border Girl. By Henry J. Thomas. 125 Tom Tabor, the Boy Fugitive; or, The Young Lynch- Gang “ Wolves.” By Barry Ringgold. 126 Mink Coat, the Death-Shot; or. The Spring of the Tiger. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 127 The Deer Hunters, By Jobn J. Marshall. 128 Wolf-Cap; or, The Night-Hawks of the Fire-Lands, By Capt. Chas. Howard. 129 Biv exspurt or, The Mountain Heroine. By Edward iilett, 180 Keetsea, Queen of the Plains. By Perey B. St. 181 Wistah, the Child Spy. By George Glenion, 182 The Island Trapper; or, Tho Young White-Buffalo Hunters. By Charles Howard. 188 The Forest Specter; or, The Young Hunter’s Foe. By Edward Willett, ye Wild Nat, Bn zaps Bie R. Eyaster, The ver Bugle; or, The Indi: i yas re pEy Bete ‘ol. Hazelton. spies ae e Prairie Trapper. By C. Dunni; i 187 The Antelope Boy. By Geo. L. Aiken ges 188 Long Shot; or, The Dwarf Guide. By Capt. Comstock. 189 Colonel Crockett, the Bear King. By Charles E. Lasille. 140 Old Pege, the Mountaineer. By Lewis W. Carson. 141 The Giant Wunter. By Horry Hazard. 142 Black her, the Half-Blood. By Joseph E. t. the Guide; or, Perils of the Frontier. J. H. Randolph. 4 Gere 144 Kent, the Ranger. By Edward S. Ellis, 4145 Bill Robbin, Hunter. By Edward Willett. 146 The Half-Breed Kiwval; or, The Tangled Trail. By Jos. Badger, Jr. 147 T ‘he Masked Avenger. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 148 Nats the Trapper and Indian Fighter. By Paul J. rescott. 149 The Elk Demon; or, The Giant Brothers. By T. C. Harbaugh. 150 The Boy Mustang-Hunter} or. Eaulalie, the Beautiful Amazon, By Frederick Whittaker. 151 Frank Yutes, the Young Trapper; or,» Mountain Kate’s Warning. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. . 152 Wild Raven, the Scout. By Ol] Coomes. 158 Lynx Caps or, Four Trappers’ Among the Sioux. By Paul Bibbs. 154 The Champion Texan Rider 3 or, Red Buffalo, and the Hercules Hunter. By Harry St. George. 155 Dreky Dick’« Doom. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 156 Frank Bell, the Boy Spy. By O11 Coomes, 157 Nick Doyle, the Gold Hunter, By P. H, Myers. 158 Kidnapped Dick; or, The Fate of the Fire Fly. By !, Stanley Henderson. ei 159 ae Long Trail; or, The Twin Scouts. By W. J. amilton. 160 Hank Triplet’s Vow. By Harry Hazard. 161 The Mad Skipper. By R. Starbuck. 62 The Trapper King. By Maj. Max Mertine. 68 Simon Kenton, Hunter. By Emerson Rodman. 64 The Boy Chief’; or, Frank Bell’s Compact, By Oll Yoomen. 65 The Trader Traitor. By J. Stanley Henderson. 66 Old Jupe’s Clew. By Mrs. Orrin lames 67 The Young Tratler. By W. J. Hamilton. 68 The Specter Spy. By Maj. Lewis W. Carson. 69 tank Lute, the Old Colorado Hunter. By E. W. Archer, 0 The White Wolf. By Edward Willett. 1 The Swamp Guide. By W. N. McNeil. 2 The Yankee Peddler. By C, Dunning Clark. Ready Jnly 80, 178 The Scout and His Young Chum. By Warren St. John. Ready August 6. 174 Blackamith Tom’s Mask. By Geo. D. Gilbert, Ready August 13. 175 The Buckakin Rider. By Guy Greenwood. Ready August 20, 176 The Squatter’s Surprisc. By Mra. Henry J. Thomas. Ready August 27. 177 Four Fellow Scouts. By J. Stanley Henderson. Ready September 3. Beadle’s Boy’s Library is for sale by all Newsdealera, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York, wee eee Se siriek i)
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ra 32 OOTAVO PAGES, S 2 ADE Be PRICE, FIVE CENTS, | POCKET LIBRARY. [BRHHHHAAHAHRADAHUAHHDHADDHDDHHRHHDHAHDHHNDAHHDDHHMHHD DOD 1 Deadwood Wick, the Prince of the Road. By Edward L. Wheeler, 2 Kansns King; or, The Red Right Hand, By Buffalo Bill. The Flying Yankees or, The Ocean Outcast. By 8 Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 4 The Double Daggers. By Edward L. Wheeler. & The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes of a Bowery Girl. By Albert W. Aiken. 6 The Prairie Pilot; or, The Phantom Spy. By Buffalo Bill. % The Buffalo Demon; or, The Border Vultures. By Edward L. Wheeler. 8 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. y Ned ylde, the Boy Scout. (J. B. Omohundro). By O1) Coomes, By “Texas Jack’ 10 Buffalo Ben, Prince of the Pistol. By E. L.Wheeler. 11 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccaneer. By Cel. Ingraham. 12 Nick o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of 76. By T. C. Harbaugh. 18 Yellowstone Jack; or, Trappers of the Enchanted Ground. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 14 Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. By E. L. Wheeler. 15 Diamond Dirk; or, The Mystery of the Yellow- stone. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 16 Keen-Knife, Prince of the Prairies. By Ol] Coomes. 1? Oregon Sol; or, Nick Whifiles’s Boy Spy, By Capt. J. f C. Adams. 18 Death-Face, the Detective. By E. L. Wheeler. 19 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. By Oll Coomes. 20 Roaring Ralph Rockwood, the Reckless Ranger. By Ilarry St. George, 2i The Boy Clown; or, The Queen of the Arena, By Frank 8. Finn, 22 The Phantom Miner} or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza, By Edward L. Whoeler. 28 The Sea-Cat; or, The Witch of Darien, Frederick Whittaker. 24 The Dumb Spy. By Ol Coomes. 25 Rattling Rube; or, The Night Hawka of Ken- tucky. By Hurry St. George. 26 Cid ences tho Great Annihilator, By Ed. L. eeler. 2% Gla:s-Eye, the Great Shot of the West, By Capt, J. F. C, Adams, 28 The Boy Captain; or, The Pirate’s Daughter. By Roger Starbuck. 29 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider, By Captain brederick Whittaker, 80 Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian, By E. L. Wheeler. 8L Nightingale Nat; or, The Forest Captains. By . C. Harbaugh, 82 Black John, the Road Agent. By J. E. Badger, Jr, 88 Omaha OL, the Masked Terror. By E. L. Wheeler. 84 Burt Bunker, the dra es By George E. Lasalle. 85 The Boy Rifles ; or, The Underground Camp, By A. C, Irons. 86 The White B: ffalo, A Tale of Strange Adven- tures in the Northwest. By George Ti. Lasalle. Be aaes, Sludsoc, Jr., the Boy Phenix. By Edward L, Vheeler, 88 Ned Hazel,the Boy Trapper. By Capt. J. F.C, Adams, 89 Deadly Eye, the Unknown Scout. By Buffalo Bill. Nick Whi es’s Pet; or, In the Vulley of Death, By Capt. J. F. C. Adama, 41 Dendwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. By Edward L. Wheeler. A2 ae Border King; or, The Secret Foe. By Oll oomes. = 48 Old Hickory 3 or, Pandy Ellis’s Scalp. By Harry St. George. 44 The White Indian; or, The Scouts of the Yellow- stone. By oh J. F.C. Adams, 45 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team. By Edward L. Wheeler. 46 The Shadow Ship} or, The Rival Lieutenants. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 47 The Red Brotherhood; or, The Avengers, By W. J. Hamilton. 48 Dandy Jack; or, The Outlaw of the Oregon Trail. By T..C. Harbaugh. By Capt. Twelve 49 Hurricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and Hia“ Pard,”” By ee E. Badger, Jr. 50 Single Handy or, A Life for a Life. Hamilton. By W. J. 51 Patent-leather Joe; or, Old Rattlesnake, the Charmer. By Philip 8. Warne. 52 The Border Robin Mood; or, The Prairie Rover, By Butlulo Bill, 58 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter; or, The Boy Detective of the Black Hills. By Edward L. Wheeler. 54 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, A Greenhorn in the Woods, By Capt. J. F. C, Adams, 55 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. By Ol} oomes, 56 Mad Tom Western, the Texan Ranger. By W. J. Hamilton. 5% Deadwood Dick on Decks or, Calamity Jane, the Heroine of Whoop-Up. By E, L. Wheeler. 58 Hawkeye Harry, the Voing Trapper Ranger. By Oll Coomes. 59 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea Wolf, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 30 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. By Albert W. Aiken. 61 Corduroy Charlie, the Boy Bravo, By Edward L. Wheeler. 62 Will Somers, the Boy Detective. By Chas. Morris. 68 Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. By A. W. Aiken. 64 Rosebud Rob; or, Nugget Ned, the Knight of the Gulch, By Edward L. Wheeler. 65 Lightning Joe, the Terror of the Prairie. By Cap- tain J. F, C. Adams. 66 Kit Haretoot, the Wood-Hawk. By T. C, Har- augh. 67 Rollo, the Boy Ranger; or, The Heiress of the Golden Horn. By Ol] Coomes. 68 Idyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. By Edward L, Wheeler. 69 WStecHye Dick ; or, The Heroin Rags. By Charles florris, 20 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. By Ol Coomes. @1 Sharp Sam; or, The Adventures of a Friendless Boy. By J. Alexander Patten. %2 The Lion of the Sen; or, The Vailed Lady of San Tropez. By Albert W. Aiken. %8 Phetograph Phil, the Boy Slenth; or, Rosebud Rob's Reappearance. By E. L. Wheeler. %4. Picayune Pete} or, Nicodenius, the Dog Detective. By Gharles Morris, %5 Island Jim; or, The Pet of the Family. By Brace- bridge Hemyng (Jack Harkaway). @6 Watch-Kye, the Shadow; or, Arabs and Angels of x Great City. By Edward L. Wheeler. %@ Dick Dead Eye, the Boy Smuggler. By Col. P Ingraham. %8 Deadwood Dick’s Devices or, The Sign of the Double Cross. By Ed. L. Wheeler. %9 The Black Muatanger; or, The Wild Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 80 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, Mokana, the White Queen of the Blackteet. By T. C. Harbaugh. 81 The Sea Viper; or, The Midshipman’s Legacy, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 82 Seth Jones; or, The Captives of the Frontier. By Edward 8, Klis. 88 Canada Chet, the Counterfeiter Chief, By Edwara . Wheeler, 84 The Dumb Page; or, The Doge’s Daughter. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 85 The Boy Miners; or, The Enchanted Island, By Edward S, Ellie. . 86 Jack Harkaway in New York. bridge Hemyng. 87 The Hussar Captain; or, The Hermit of Hell Gate. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 88 Deadwood Dickin Lendville; or, A Strange Stroke for Liberty. By Edward L. Wheeler. 89 Bill Biddon, Trapper 3 or, Life in the Northwest, By Edward 8. Ellis. 90 Tippy, the Texan}; or, The Young Champion. By George Gleason. Issued Every Wednesday, Beadle’s Pocket Library is for sale by all Newe- dealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. By Brace-
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32 OCTAVO PAGES. POC KET pEADLE’g PRICE, FIVE CENTS, RY. ARRARRHRARARADRHRARENRARDHARDAH RERRHRKAHDRUARADARA 91 Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 92 The Ocean Bloodhound ; or, The Red Pirates of | the Caribbees. By Samuel W. Pearce. 98 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy. By Charles Morris. 94 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By E. L.Wlieeter. 95 Buck Buckram; or, Bess. the Female Trapper. By Captain J. F. ©, Adams. 96 GI It-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective. By BE. L. jeeler. 97 The Black Steed of the Prairies, By James L, Bowen. 98 The Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. By Juan Lewis, 99 Bonanza Bill, the Man Tracker. By EB, L. Wheeler. 100 Nat Todd} or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. By Edward 8. Ellis. 101 Daring Davy; the Young Bear Killer, St. George. 102 The Yellow Chief. 108 Ohip, the Girl Sport. By Edward L. Wheeler. 104 The Black Schooner. By Roger Starbdek, 105 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, Charles Morris, 106 Night-Hawk Kit; or, the Daughter of the Ranch. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 107 Jack Hoyle’s Leads or, The Young Specw ator. By Edward L, Wheeler, 108 Rocky Mountain Kit. By T.C. Harbaugh. 109 The Branded Hand; or, Tie Man of Mystery. | By Frank Dumont. 110 The Dread Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. George W. Browne. By Harry By Capt. Mayne Reid. By By May By Ol Coomes. Pincy Paul, the Mountsin Boy; or, The Little Arrow of the Adirondacks. By T. C. Harbaugh, 5 Deadwood Dick’s Double. By EL. Wheeler. 6 Jabez Cotlin. Skipper; or, Lost in the Polar Regions. By Capt. F. Whittaker. ? Faney Frank, of Calorado. By Hon. W. F. Cody. Buffalo Bill.’? By Edward L. Wheeler. 120 Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper. By T. C. Harbaugh. 124 Harry Armstrong, the Captain of the Club. By Bracebridge Hemyng, (Jack Harkaway.) 122 The Hunted By Eaward S. Ellis. 128 Solid Sam, the Boy . By E. L. Whe 124 Judge Lynch, Jr.; or, The Boy Vigilante, T. C. Harbaugh. 125 The Land Pirates. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 126 Blue Blazes; or, The Brexk 0 Day Boys of Rocky Bar. ank Dumont, 127 Tony , the Ferret; or, Boss Bob's Boss Job. By Edward L. Wheeler. 128 Black Bess, Will Wildfire’s Racer. By C. Morris. | 129 Eagle Kit, the soy Demon. By Oll Coomes. er. By | 150 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom. 180 Gold Trigger, the Sport. By T. C. Harbaugh. 181 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike. By Edward L. Wheeler, 182 Dainty Lance, tie Boy Sport. By J.E. Badger, Jr. | 188 Wlld-fire, the Boss of the Road. By Frank Dumont. 184 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy, By C. Morris. 185 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood. By Edward L, Wheeler. 186 Old Rube, the Hunter. By Capt. Hamilton Holmes. 187 Dandy Rock, the Man from Texas. By G, Waldo Browne. 188 Bob Rockett, the Boy Dodger. By Chas. Morris, 189 The Black Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 140 Captain Arizona, the King Pin of Road-Agents. By Philip S. Warne. 141 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl By Edward L. Wheeler. 142 Little Texan,the Young Mustanger. By Ol] Coomes. 148 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 144 Little Grit, the Wild_Rider; or, Bessie, the Stock Tender’s Daughter. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 145 The Tiger of Taos. By Geo. Waldo Browne. 146 The Cattle King. By Frank Damont. Detective. 147 Nobby Nick of Nevada. By Edward L. Wheeler. 148 Thunderbolt Tom. By Harry George. 149 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner; or, The Road to Ruin. By Charles Morris. By Waldo Browne. fler. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, or, The Tigers of High Pine. By 154 The Boy Tratle War-Path. By Jos. Badger, Jr. old Plume, the y Bandit; or, The Kid-Glove ort. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 156 Will Wildfire in the Woods. By C. Morris. 157 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. By I. C. Harbaugh. 8% Dendwood Dick’s Doom. By E.L. Wheeler. 159 Patent-Leather Joe’s Defeat. By Philip. S. #3 or, Dainty Lance on the 155 Warne. 160 uneis Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. By Col. P. igrahbain. 161 Bob Rockett, the Cracksman, 162 Hiéle Murricane, the Boy Captain, OOmes. 168 Deadwood Dick's Dreamy or, The Rivals of the Road. By Edward L. Wheeler. 164 T 'o ‘Tom; or, Injun Jack from Red Core. B C. Harbaugh. 165 Buffalo Bills Bet, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 166 ao Wildtire Wins and Loses, By Charles Morris. 167 Dandy Rock’s Pledge. By George W. Browne. 168 Dezdwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hills Jezebel. By Edward L, heeler. 169 The Boy Cha or, Dutch Herman of the Muskingum. 1 a} 170 Bob Rockett’s Fight fo Morris. Frank Morton, the Boy Hercules. By Ol Coomes, The Yankee Ranger. By Edwin Emerson. Dick Dingle, Scout; or, The Frontier Angel. Edward §, Ellis. Dandy Rock’s Scheme. By G. W. Browne. The Arab D tective. By Edward L. Wheeler. Will Wildfire’« Pluck, By Charles Morr ander. ByCol.Vrentiss Ingraham. ter. By Burton Sy “e3 or, The Mystic \ arksman. By Jr. old-Hunter. By T. C. Harbaugh, By Charles Morris, By Lieut. Col By C. Morris. By Ol 71 72 78 z z > > > z * ? By i o Fh Pk kk pk ek ae 180 The Boy 181 The Scapegrace Son, 182 The Dark-Skinned Scout. Hazeltine. 188 Jabez Dart, Detective. By Ol] Coomes, 184 Featherweight, the Boy Spy. By Edward Willett: 185 Bison Bill, the Overland Prince. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 186 Dainty Lance and His Pard. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 187 The Trapped Tiger King. By Charles Morria. Ready August 10. 188 The Ventriloquist Detective. By Edward L, Wheeler. Re-dy August 17. 189 Old Rocky’s Boys} or, Benito, the Young Mus- tang Breaker. By Maj. Sam, S. Hall. Ready August 24. 190 Sim Simpkins, Scout. Ready August 31, 191 Dandy Rock’s Rival. By Geo. Waldo Browne, ady September 7. Iasued Every Wednesday. Rendle’« Pocket Library is for sale by all News- dealers, fire cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six By James L. Bowen. cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York.