Beadle's Pocket Library (no. 248) (1888 10 10)
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sS) ( R Ne Copyrighted, 1888, by Braptz any Apams, Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. ¥., as Second Class Mail Matter, Oct. 10, 1488. $2.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams Pe No, 248, a Year. No. 98 Witstiw 85 New York. ; Five Vents, Vol. XX, THE NEXT MOMENT GIANT GEORGE WAS OUT AND ROLLING ON THE GROUND IN AN AGONY OF GRIEF,
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Giant George’s Pard. Giant George’s Pard; Arizona Jack the Tender-foot. BY ‘ BUCKSKIN SAM,” (Maj. Sam S. Hall.) CHAPTER I. A SARDINE-BOX. “Waker up, Hank! Ther hearse "Il be long in bout a hour, an’ I hope we-uns ’ll git some- thin’ lively in ther way 0’ news, er a few fresh prospecturs.” “T ain’t a-sleepin’, Tom Jones, an’ I wish yer’d let me alone, I’m a-ruminatin’.” “ Thets jist how I put hitup, Hank. Yer hes a look es ef yer hed rwm-inated. Howsomever, Lhain’t see’d yer errigate sence I struck ther ‘Nugget.’” “Yer doesn’t zactly ketch on ter my ’Nited States. Yer doesn’t undercomstumble ter my lingo, though hit’s plain es ther wart on Marm Holbrook’s nose, Reckon yer never war run through an edjication factory. Ther idee what I ’tended ter give yer war thet I war meder- tatin’.” * What?” “ Now, yer better not provoke mo, Tom; ’cos I’m most cussedly out o’ sorts. I war rumin- atin’ er medertatin’—yer kin pick whichever word yer want—bout ther lively times what's ast an’ gone. Sardine-box City air bu’sted, ead sure an’ sarin, an’ [I'm dang’d ef I wouldn’t be plum full o’ glad ter hev ther Roel ledg back az’in, jes’ ter make things a leetlo ively, “'Thet’s what's suttin’ bad on yer stum-jacket, air hit? Things does glide almighty smooth, Hank. Tow much civerlize war shoved inter this burg ter one’b, an’ hit couldn’t stan’ ther press. Giant George orter lef? a few Panthers ter hustle us roun’, an’ rub ther rust of one’t in a while. ‘Sides thet, [ hes bin sot back by hevin’ sich cussed luck et ther Slip-up. Hit wer’ adog-goned unpropriate handler tar give ther mine fu’st off, an’? [ bucked ag’in’ hit, but ther pilgrims what fu’st staked her off chris’en’d her ‘Slip up’ out o’ pure devilment, ’cos they hed bin Tor? out in ther cold. Howsomever, thur’s dust thar, ef we’uns hed ther mersheenery ter chaw up ther quarts.” “Thar yer go ag’in, bout yer dang'd ole pile o’ rock! Hit sickens me ter listen at yer.” As Hank made this last remark, he contorted his most comical face and shot a squirt of to- bacco-juice toward the middle of the street, adding: “Tom Jones, Pll set’em up, jes’ ter change yer idees. [ hes know’d fer a half-hour thet yer hes bin loafin’ roun’ hyer jes’ ter lubercate yer in’ards!” With these words Hank arose in a wavering, shaky manner, his features showing regretful thoughts, while Tom Jones followed the pro- prietor of the Nugget Hotel into the bar, a look of triumph in his eyes. Sardine-box City was a mining town of Ari- zona, situated at a point not far removed from the confluence of the San Carlos and Gila Rivers, and directly at the base, or in the midst of can- yons, gulches and foot-hills of the Pinaleno © ange. The so-called “‘ city” consisted of two lines or rows of slab shanties, which fronted to- ward each other, and extended north and south on either side of a wide street, which was inno- cent of pavement, plank walk, or even the usual care of a country road in the “States,” Unlike the City of the Cassars, the town had the appearance of having been “ built in a day,” having been settled during the excitement of what was considered a ‘ big find” in the quartz line. Gold had also been discovered in the deep gulches, at points where there were, however, small advantages for ‘t wash,” which fact had drawn some few of the most impecunious of miners, who could ** pan the dust” at small cost when there was water to be had, Nugget Hotel was_the most extensive public house in the burg, Marm Holbrook being the landlady; and it boasted of two rooms over the bar, with a glass window illuminating each, In -one of these rooms that wortby lady was in the habit of proudly pointing to a bed on which had slept Miss Lena Lawrence, the ‘‘ Angel o’ ther Penarlayno Range,” who had come from St. Louis to find the grave of her murdered brother, in Dead Man’s Gulch, and avenge bis death, It was the same time that Hank and Tom Jones were conversing, as just recorded, at tho front door of the ‘“ Nugget,” that Marm Hol- brook, as was often the case, was engaged in relating to a recently-arrived stranger the his- tory of her best room, and its connection with the “cleaning out” of the bandits known as the ** Panthers.” The stranger in whom Marm Holbrook had taken such an interest had arrived the previous day, mounted upon a fine hors, with extra andl somewhat fresh equipments, and had at once put up at the ‘* Nugget,” the Jandlady assigning him the upstairs back chamber, which was in fact the only extra sleeping apartment in the— house, except the front, and exclusive, best room, so noted in the annals of Sardine-box City. The new arrival had not attracted, to any great extent, the attention of Hank and Tom, as ho was put down by them from the first — as a soft “‘ tenderfoot,” or “fresh.” __ He failed to patronize the bar, and kept him- self in the kitchen, chatting with Marm Hol- brook, and ‘“‘pumping” her extensively in re- gard to frontier life, and matters pertaining thereto, which pleased the good dame, who prom- ised to show him the best room, and relate the history of the honored personage who had oc- cupied it some three months previous. He had registered his name—the register was — a medical almanac with alternate blank pages —as ‘‘ John Burke, Wilmington, Delaware,” and bad informed Mrs. Holbrook that he had come to the conclusion of designating himself, in frontier style, “ Arizona Jack.” He was “ got up” in good shape, wearing a wide-brimmed sombrero, a blue woolen shirt, with wide flow- ing collar and bosom richly embroidered. H breeches were of buckskin, fringed, and th into high-topped boots, the legs of which were a
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nee tiene OF Giant George’s Pard. 3 stamped and embossed, while upon the heels were a pair of silver spurs. The belt which sup- ported his weapons had a large silver clasp, on which was ergraved, ‘‘ Arizona Jack,” and the legend ‘‘ Whoop her through or Bust.” Alto- gether the new-comer was a fine appearing, graceful looking young man. “T tell yer,” explained Marm Holbrook to Jack, ‘‘she war es purty a angel es ever struck Arizona, an’ when she war hyer I forgot all "bout goin’ back Texas-way, an’ "lowed Hank ter ‘run ’roun’ loose permise’us like. Me an’ her *greed on hit thet sbe should be cog’d Dora Deane, ter bamboozle ther city, an’ Dick Deane arter sbe put on men’s togs. She hed ther neatest buckskin suit I ever see’d, an’ ther day she ’roved, Sardine-box City run wild. Ther Panthers come in ther same night on a rampage an’ shoutin’ an’ bangin’ war ther game, Giant George, he ’roved in disguise, with his burro, Don Diablo, and run through ther burg. Ther city war goin’ ter hang him, when ther Angel reckernized him from ther winder es a pard 0’ her brother’s, Sam Lawrence. Ther citz wilted "bout then, an’ next thing ther Panthers come on a cyclone stompede, an’ when ther circus war open she levanted with Giant George ter find her brother’s grave, an’ gut tuck. They ‘obbled her while she war cryin’ over hit, an’ eps war a leetle ways off, fixin’ ter camp. Yer see, E] Capitan, ther boss o’ ther Panthers, war ther devil what shot Sam Lawrence. Giant George he skuted arter ther Angel, an’ knowin’ ther locate, drapped in on ’em, fu’st sendin’ a young cowboy, cog’d Terrif, back ter tell ther citz ter glide up ther range ready fer biz. “They cleaned out ther bull Panther crowd, an’ tuck a heap o’ plunder, savin’ ther Angel by a scratch, an’ dang’d—’scuse me fer sw’arin’, which I seldom does fer ’'m a meetin’-house woman—if thar don’t come ther young gent from back States-way what war ‘gaged ter hitch harness with Miss Lena. He hed bin’ on her trail though he hedn’t see’d her fer years, hevin’ bin parted frem her by ther Panther boss, ’fore ther cuss turned road-agent. “His cog war Rudolph Reynolds. Ther boss o’ ther Panthers was called El Capitan hyer, but his handle, States-way, war Edward Wil- loughby. Waal, Reynolds come in an’ tuck a hand in ther heftiest shootin’ an’ slashin’. Ar- ter they all gut back ter ther burg, we~uns hed a he ole pienic, an’ ther Angel war hitched ter Reynolds. Ther Angel, an’ her man, an’ George, an’ Don Diablo, ther burro, lef’ this burg three months ago, an’ ther’ hain’t bin a day since then what I hain’t pestered Hank ’bout blind ter levant back Texas-way, fer Sardine-box City hevn’t bin wo’th shucks. Biz war blocked, an’ ther burg bu’sted. Marm Holbrook was a short, motherly wo- man, with fat, rosy face, and the exact hight and build of Hank, her husband. She dressed her hair in the old style of drooping plaids that covered hersmall ears and was drawn up behind without ornament, _ Smoothing her apron, and at times her front hair, as she related the history of her honored guest chamber, Marm Holbrook was a pleasant enough picture to look upon. Heaving a deep sigh, she advanced to the window, and pointing sadly toward the canyon, continued: “Thar air whar they war ’bout ter string up Giant George, an’ whar they did s’pend two o’ ther spies o’ El Capitan; an’ jist below air ther big canyon whar ther citz went ter pass ther vight ther Angel fu’st ’roved, vos they didn’t keer ter disturb her. They all gut chuck full o’ whisk’, an’ Hank war arterward laid out on ther bowlder by ther boys, jist cut o’ pure devilment. Yersee thar war two o’ ther Pan- thers hung right over bim an’ he war dead drunk. When he woke up he thought he war in Tophit, er leastways he didn’t know whar he war. He didn’t even know hisself, an’ a big black wolf, drawed by ther scent, sprung up at ther corpuses, an’ hit fell onter ong an’ skeered *bout all ther red cuten bis face, Then the Panthers rid up, all in black masks, an’ on black horses, en’? Hank done ther tallest runnin’ back bum, fer he see’d then who he war, an’ whar he war, He wa’n’t wo'th a ole dish-rag arter he struck ther Nugget, an’skeered me some yer kin bet when he fell in a dead faint inter our bedroom, “‘Howsomever, I gut down ther shot-gun, an’”—here Marm Holbrook left the window and walked toward the door of the back room, mak- ing believe, as she did sn, to wipe the perspira- tion from her forehead with her apron—* I’m e’ena’most shamed ter tell yer, though folkses say I orter be proud o’ hit, I grabbed ther gun an’ rushed out o’ door in my nigit-gown, ter ther corner o’ ther Nugget, an’ jist plugged one o’ ther Panthers, “Ya-as, stranger, thet’s ther bull biz, an? Arizone war struck clean through arter ther news gut out thet ther citz o’ this burg hed wiped out El Capitan’s bull band o’ Panthers, We thought hit would draw a heap o’ pilgrims byar, an’ hit did; but they didn’t linger, nor leave much dust ter count on. An’ yer kin sot hit down, ef somethin’ dcesn’t turn up speedy ther shanties °] be left fer the gov’ment mule- whackers ter fry thar bacon with, Come on; I must watch Hank, fer he war mighty nigh on ter havin’ a hull menagery in his boots last night.” Marm Holbrook, however, bad not gotten half- way down the stairs, when most unearthly yells and smashing of glass resounded from the bar, followed by shrieks and howls, She screamed out: “Bless my soul, Hank’s gut ’em bad! Didn’t I jes’ tell yer so, Jack?” As the worthy landlandy thus cried out, she threw up her hands, lost her balance, and falling upon her alarmed visitor, they both rolled in a heap to the bottom of the stairway. CHAPTER II. A STRANGE GUEST. Hank HoLBRooK and Tom Jones entered the bar of the Nugget, and the former walked slowly, and with somewhat uncertain step, around to the opposite side of the plank, Tom watching his movements with something of anxiety. Hank’s little eyes rolled and his facial nerves began to twitch, as he placed his elbows upon
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4 Giant George’s Pard. the counter without giving any further sign of **settin’ ’em up.” ‘Thought yer war goin’ ter sot out p’ison, Hank. Is yer goin’ ter be sick? Dang’d ef yer don’t look es bad es_yer did when ther boys laid yer out on ther bowlder.” These remarks of Tom were ill-timed, for Hank suddenly braced up and brought down one of his small red fists upon the slab with a slam as he exclaimed: ““Dog-gone yer, Sheriff Jones, I believe I won't sling a drop at yer! Thet war a nasty trick ter play on a dog, an’ yer hed a hand in hit yerself.” ‘“Hain’t yer made me shove ‘dust’ enough ter let thet pass, ole pard? Yer’d ’a’ done the same job for me, I war ag’in’ the thing from ther start, es ther boyees tole yer.” This seemed to pacify Hank, and his anger soon subsided. Looking around with a myste- rious air, as if to satisfy himself that there was no one else present, while his face and eyes ex- pressed superstitious wonder, he asked: “Tom, did yer see a herd ©’ black wolves passin’ down ther street jist afore yer struck ther ‘Nugget,’ nex’ ther door whar I war a- settin’?” The look of mirth in Tom’s eyes changed to one of deep concern, as he studied the face of the landlord. “Thar ain't a black wolf, I’m a-bettin’, within ten miles o’ this burg, Hank; an’ | bain’t see’d one nigh hyer since ther animile yer slunz inter ther canyon three moons ago. Ef yer hain’t got ther horrors comin on, I'll sw’ar bit’s a sign o’ heavy biz in ther burg soon!” The sheriff felt confident that Hank was on the verge of mania, but these last and cheering wor !s, which came suddenly into his mind, would, he knew, cheer the landlord up, ani keep off the impending fit of jim-jams. He was not deceived, for Hank’s face bright- ened at once, and he proceeded to set ont a bot- tle and two glasses. “Pour out a good stiff horn fer yerself fu’st, Hank. an’ suck hit down quick, while I gaze out on the street, an’ see ef I kin git a peep at thom wolves 0’ yourn—” Tom was anxious to get a drink down the throat of the landlord, and knowing the latter to be extravagantly polite in his cups, always insisting upon his guest filling up first, he ad- vanced to the door, and to humor the man, pro- fessed to be looking out for the wolves. But probably no man was ever filled with more ex- ceeding great joy, than was Tom Jones when he reached the door. Hearing the rattle of the wheels of the com- ing stage, which had slipped his mind, in his concern at Hank’s condition, Tom glanced quickly up the street toward the break in the range, where the rough road led down a rocky declivity to Sardine-box City, and no sooner did he see the heavy coach with its eight gallop- ing steeds, than he dashed out into the street, and stood shading his eyes with bis hand. It was only for an instant. Then, with loud yas. he sprung high in the air, rushed back nto the bar, kicked a dozen tumblers from the counter, and landed upon poor Hank Holbrook, both rolling in a fierce struggle upon the floor, Tom was unable to speak a word in the intense enjoyment of the situation. Hank, as the reader knows, was overdosed with his own merchandise, but had sufficient sense left to reason a little, No sooner did he hear the wild yells of Tom, than all the old imaginings became a reality; and, when his pard made that wild leap into the bar, crashing the glasses, he felt instinctively that all the terrible wolves were upon him, and as he fell over in the col- lision, he crawled under the bar in a frenzy of terror, trembling in every limb, Tom at length burst into roars of laughter, still unable to speak, and grabbed Hank by the legs to jerk him out. A backward glance dis- closing no wolves, the poor fellow began to think that his comrade had gone mad, This was worse, if possible, The belief, too, was made something of a reality, when he was drawn quickly out from among his decanters by the heels, and then swung over the shoulders of his strong wiry pard, and ran wildly out into the street, with Hank head downward and un- able to help himself in the least. The shrieks of Hank, mingled with the pierc- ing laughter of Tom, created an uproar that brought the ‘‘zitz” from all directions, and caused Marm Holbrook to tumble down-stairs upon the stranger she had been kindly entertain- ing with her narrative of the one grand histori- cal event of Sardine-box City. To the great astonishment of all who rushed from their shanties, they saw a sight so novel in the streets of their, of late, so quiet burg, that they joined in with roars of laughter, and yells of mad gratification. The first came as they saw the sheriff dashing up the street with one of Hank Holbrook’s feet held fast over each shoulder, bis head down and his arms flying wildly, while his features were convulsed wita terror, terrified yells rung from his lips, as he thought pandemonium was let loose, and his final doom had come. The sound of the approaching heavy coach now led all the *‘citz” to cast glances up the mountain trail, and then such cheers rent the air as had not been heard in Sardine-box City for three long months, The ‘‘ hearse” was swaying from side to side in a dangerous way fora ‘ tenderfoot” to wit- ness, the horses galloping like mad down the steep, rocky trail, the driver holding slack lines and cutting the air with his long whip. But this was a sight that was often witnessed when Sam Scott held the ribbons. That which caused the united mass of “ citz” to turn into such a hilarious mob, and had caused Tom Jones to yell like an Apache, and act like an escaped lunatic generally, was still another sight. On the top of the coach, standing upright, but bending his limbs to suit the roll of the “ hearse,” was the unmistakable Giant George, his identity being made a sure thing, even in the distance, from the fact that his inseparable pard, Don Diablo, the long-eared and diminutive burro, was standing between his master’s legs on the coach-top. When Don Diablo left the burg, three months before, he was in the hind-boot of the ‘‘ hearse;” he now occupied a more exalted position, and
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Giant George’s Pard. ut on a much prouder air, for had he not been Pr the “States,” and with the ‘‘ Angel o’ Pen- arlayno Range,” at that? Giant George had evidently gotten his new buckskin leggings, blue shirt, and sombrero, into a presentable state for entering Arizona in a style suitable to his character, by rolling in Colorado mud, kicking around, and cutting holes in his outfit with his bowie, The huge knife occupied its usua: position when its owner was on a jamboree; 7%. e¢., thrust through his hair over his ear upward, and projecting from his sombrero. The burly scout was to all appearances ‘* fixed,” as a pair of army ‘‘ Colt’s sixes” were Jainly to be seen in his belt, which, as well as the scabbards, were highly ornamented in gold bullion filagree work, the clasps of the belt and the butts of the weapons being also a solid mass of gold. The clasp was a huge square one, and in large letters engraved upon the same was the Jegend which he bore proudly: “GIANT GEORGE, ARIZONA, | ** From ‘ The Angelo’ ther Penarlayno Range.” The giant scout was also evidently well “fixed” for meeting his old pards in the regular way; in other words, he was about half-full of bis favorite ‘‘ terrantaler juice.” Tom Jones, with Hank more than balf dead, cleared the street, anc met the coach atthe foot of the decline, when, as Giant George saw and recognized the men, and tumbled to Tom’s racket, he gave a ringing war-whoop, reached down and forward, clutched the reins from Sam’s hands, and with one fierce, steady pull, brought the team up standing, just as Tom, panting with exertion, reached the side of the eoach, Then, leaning over, the burly scout grasped one of the hapless Hank’s ankles, and ees the landlord of the ‘‘ Nugget Hotel ” up by his side. In an instant after, Tom Jones too was on the top of the ‘‘ hearse,” grasping his old pard by the hand. Hank, more dead than alive, was set astride of Don Diablo; and Tom, standing by the side of Giant_George, who kept bis old position, supporting Hank and Tom, while he elied in thunder tones to the driver, Sam cott who was rather more than half asleep: 4 Whoop ber up, Sam! Whoop her up! Hyer comes ther Bald-headed Eagle o’ the Rockies! Hyer comes ther King-pin Kioway-killer! _ Hyer comes Don Diablo an’ his pards, Tom _ Jones pn’ Hank Holbrook! Set ’em up all — *roun’!’ With the horse again ata full run, and the - above yells filling the air, the “ hearse ” entered the town; Hank, coming to himself et the sound of his old pard’s voice and expressions, joining feebly in the general uproar, while bis little eyes strove in vain to assume their old-time brilliancy. ** Rah for ther Any’l 0’ Penarlayno Range!” The ‘‘citz.” who had by this time screamed themselves hoarse, fairly knocked each other _ down, bugged, wrestled, rolled in the dirt, and - amused themselves in other like rational ways, ‘ while Giant George, as he dashed up to the station, shouted out: ‘““Hyer we air on a cyclone stampede, and Sardine-box City are to be run by chain light- nin’! CHAPTER ITl. NOT SO FRESH. To describe the mob-like enthusiasm that pore the arrival of the coach at the Nugget otel would be next to impossible. In a mo- ment the horses were unhitched, and before any one was able to alight, the ‘‘ hearse” went flying down the street, drawn by the ‘‘citz,” at a rapid speed toward the canyon, Marm Holbrook having been hustled inside much against her will. Tbe sun sunk like a ball of red gold in the west, gilding the rough, bold rock peaks of Pinaleno Range, but leaving the canyons, chasms and wash-outs lying like black serpents along its foot; Jeaving tke thickets of pine, as one gazed westward, dark patches on the land- scape, suggesting to any stranger who might have been present at the time, lurking retreats of bandit, desperado «1 hostile Indian; but as tothe “citz,” as everything bad been so quiet since the cleaning out of E] Capitan’s band of ‘* Panthers,” not a thought of the presence of a foe within a hundred miles entered their minds, Down rattled the ‘‘bearse,” with its load of peculiar humans, drawn by a mob as yeculiar and as strangely attired as themselves, down amid the rocks and clumps of cacti and stunted cedars, leaving the rcad, and eventually, as if by common consent, coming to a halt at the large mesquite tree, the branches of which over- hung the bowlder, where the same people, with some few exceptions, three months previously, bad rushed with the man they were now so de- sirous of honoring, and welcoming like a king, to an ignominious death, Strangely, and in disguise had he come among them then, and for a time seemed to have sub- dued the ‘“‘citz” by force, and to be running Sardine-box City; but the tables had been turned, and the ‘‘citz” were very near running him—upa limb. But it was a most singular scene now, The ligbts and shadows the same, the aspect of the landscape the same as when Giant George bad been dragged to the mesquite tree to meet bis doom, The coach, with its still undelivered mail and peculiar passengers, came to a halt in this lone spot, which the hand of man had never marred or striven to beautify. As the coach halted, every human being in the motley crowd ceased his wild yells, and as deathly a silence reigned there as did previous to their boisterous arrival. For a full minute this silence prevailed, and then the “itz,” every man, swung his som- brero in the air, as Tom Jones cried: “Three cheers for Giant George, ther Bald- headed Eagle o’ ther Rockies!” And three cheers they were. Three heartfelt cheers, from throats that fed Jungs with moun- tain air, rung and echoed through crag, cleft and canyon; while, close following, there broke on the air from Hank: ‘Rah fer ther Ang’l o’ Penarlayno Range!” “Dog my cats! An’ dang my perrarer pro-
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Giant George’s Pard. ilisicaeenee nn nnn nnn ee EEE? menadin’ pictur’, Hank!" exclaimed Giant George; ‘* yer hain’t forgot ther Ang’l, has yer? An’ she is an ang’! what ain't ter be fergut by ary one o’ us. [ loves her a heap, but neither mé nor Don Diablo c’u’dn’t stay in civerlize fer all ther angels in Paradise, Boyees, Mrs. Lena Reynolds sent her bestest ’gards, love an’ ’fec- tions ter all ther ‘citz? o’ Sardine-box City, an’ she air a-goin’ ter sen’a quartz mill ter chaw up ther hull range, an’ make us all mil- lionaires, not crowdin’ out Marm Holbrook!” A perfect storm of cheers followed this most welcome announcement. Marm Holbrook crouched in the coach in fear and trembling. She bad expected the wild mob to run the vehicle into the big canyon in their extravagant exuberance, and thus put an end forever to all the ‘‘ citz” of Sardine-box; basides the ‘‘ Nugget” was, for the first time since it had been ‘slapped up,” vacant, un- guirded, and with her precious best room, with its much prized bed, at the mercy of any strag- gling bummer from the mines, who might have slept a drunken sleep during the excite- ment, but awoke in time enough to “clean” things out at the hotel. Not only this, but she thought of the stranger and wondered where he had leyanted so sudden- ly. Sae had prayed many atime that Giant George might return and shake up the town, but sae had been far from wishing herself to be so closely connected with the shaking up. “Whoop ber up! yelled tha giant scout as tha old coach was at last pointed on tae return course, ‘* Whoop her up! Eagles o’ ther Rock- ies, whoop fer yer bald-headed boss an’ Don Diablo, ther king burro!” As he thus yelled, he stooped and embraced his dumb-brute pard, folding his strong arms about the animal’s neck, and rubbing his cheek against Don Diablo; but the Jack had, by this time, enough of travel, and for some time had beeu standing with his eyes closed, and his huge ears danzling downward as if hung on hinges, and he simply nodded once in response to bis mastar’s caress, as the coach returned slowly in the darknass up the rocky gulch, “Tm dog-goned afeard, George, that we're goin’ ter lose Pard Hank,” said Tom Jones, rather sadly. “ Ho's tougher’n a fen year-ole buffler bull’s mop-skin,” asserte? t1» giant scout of Arizona, as he fel6 of Hank’s head. ‘Ef he'd ever bin goin’ ter die, bit woull ’a’ bin when he war left chin-up with p’izen on ther bowlder tet night, with a black wolf ter kiss him, a dead man on top o’ him, an’ another hangin’ on ther mesquite, I thinks ef I hed’a’ bin fixed thet way, Pa ‘9? dusted over ther divide myself.” As he said this, the coach stopped suddenly, ant again yells broke from the ‘ citz ”—yells of consternation, and well they might be; foe bright flarnes shot up in the darkness far up thr trail ahead of them. “Git, pards! Git!” called out Giant George, as he jumped to the earth. ‘‘ Ther blasted hell- yuns hes sob S urdine-box City afire!” Every man draw his weapon and sprung through the darkness toward the town, buta couple of thousand yards distant, leaving the **hearse” standing. And it was now more ap- he gn so named than ever before, for ank Holbrouk lay senseless ape the top of the stage, and Marm Holbrook had fainted dead away as soon as she saw the flames near her home, With set teeth and bated breath, and led by Giant George, these tough, desperate men of Arizona sprung toward their shanties, which were as dear to them as palaces to princes, all with their eyes fixed upon the flashin: flames, which, in the gloom of night, appear more appalling. ‘They soon reached the fvot, or south end of the street, and then discovered to their joy and relief, that but two of the shanties were burning, and that some distance between them and the others. The long street was plainly revealed to view, but it was silent and empty. Not a living soul was within the scope of vision, This was not strange, as all had gone with the stage, except Sam Scott, the driver, who had taken charge of the horses when they were let loose; and besides him, there might possibly have been a few bum- mers and teamsters who lived in huts among the bowlders, There were three or four women, however, who were smart enough to bolt and bar safely in the absence of the men from the town, The fire was a mystery, but a mystery soon to be solved; for, as the crowd of “ citz reached the street at a point opposite to the flimes, a sight met their view that filled them with amazement and horror. On the side of the first shanty next the fire, was a shape, a human form in a crucified position, except that if was placed feet uppermost. But the strangest thing outside of the way in which this human form had been fined—for it was without doubt that of a human being—and that which immediately struck the horrified ob- servers, some perhaps with dread, was tke fact that it was spotless white, the color of the driven snow, Every man, even Giant George, halted; and before they had recovered their senses, there came a yell from across the street apparentl from the tar-room door of the “ Nugget,” whic was wide open. All gazed in increased astonishment, for in the doorway stood Arizona_ Jack, although none knew him as such; Tom Jones alone seem- ing to recognize him as the stranger who had bean a few times in Hank’s bar while he was present. As he now appeared, he was covered with’ dust and blood; his clothing was torn in many places, his forehead was bleeding, his hat gone, and his long hair in wild disarray. “Here I am, blame it! still a-kicking, I hold out yet; but, in your lingo, I consider it a hefty combination of mingled menageries to run inonapilzrim. Tve got grip though, and don’t you forget tbat I’m running the Nugget Hotel, and I think of extending my business up and down your blasted one-horse burg!” Never were men more surprised than were these worthy “citz.” Tom Jones was indignant, and more than that, for he recognized the man whom he and Hank had set down as the soft tenderfoot, and here he was boasting of running the town, and had evidently started business by setting fire to the shanties,
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*‘ Come out o’ thar!” yelled the sheriff, spring- ing forward, with a score of the “‘citz” at his back; while Giant George rushed for the co and finding the same nailed tightly to the abd; he cut away what he now saw at a glance was a spotless white sheet, but which had in places been smeared with gore. Many “citz” followed the burly scout, and as the latter ripped off the cloth, entirely dis- playing the dead victim, loud ejaculations of wonder and surprise went the rounds of the ex- cited crowd. At this instant, loud rung the order of Tom Jones. : “Surrender! If yer don’t, we'll fill yer es full of holes es anole honey-comb!” The words reavhed the ears of the giant scout, who called out loudly in reply: ae “Hold on, Tom Jones! Dog-gone yer, don’t as “= yer shoot, er you an’ me’ll fight!” cas CHAPTER IV. JACK’S STORY. ““Houp on, Tom Jones! Don’t yer shoot, er me an’ you'll fight!” There was no need, however, of this vigorous admonition from Giant George; for, as the sheriff raised his revolver, Arizona Jack, the mysterious stranger, sprung aside, slammed the door of Nugget Hotel, and theastonished “ citz” heard the iron bar ring into its place. Tom Jones rushed like a deer around the corner to the side door; but, with a laughing ** No, you don’t,” this was also slammed in his face, and barred. **Wa-al, by ther bleed o’ ole Dan Boone, ef thet tenderfoot ain’t a rattlin’ roarer, 'm a Piute Be ppoose! Reckon he kin keep his cog @’ Arizone Jack without disgracin’ we-uns, ef he hain’t done nothin’ bilious,” Thus spoke the discomfited sheriff, while the “ citz” gathered around him, and growled with baffled rage. “Come this-a-ways; yer dang’d passel o’ bamboozled idjots!” yelled the giant scout. Tom and the “‘citz” ran quickly and joined the other party, the sheriff Epringing up by the side of George, who still stood by the strangely- nailed up corpse. “Wa-al,” said the burly scout curtly; “ what does yer think o’ thet, Tom Jones?” i “Dog my cats!” exclaimed the sheriff, in * amazement. ‘“‘ Hit’s a dang’d ’Pache brave!” “ Reckon thet air thing ain’t much of a conun- drum, Tom,” returned the scout; ‘* but thet coon over et ther Nugget air ther boss conun- er hisself, an’ yer c’u’dn’t guess him, c’u’d er ‘© Yer doesn’t not mean to say thet tenderfoot 2 what calls bisself Arizone Jack done for this red?” exclaimed Tom. ‘Didn't know his handle,” was the reply; **but thet’s jist whar my affidavy comes in, and mebbeso he’s saved ther burg. Ef this pestifer- ous, painted scarifier war alone bit’s all right; but ef ary other gut away, thar’s "Pache music ahead. Hit’s one o’ Victor’a’s boss sculpers, - Red Hand; jist gaze et thet paw will ye? - Come, boyees!” shouted the giant, ‘‘ we’uns - must git chin with him, fer this air serious biz. Ther burg maybe in danger. Victor’a Giant George's Pard. a c’u’d do a heap towards cleanin’ us out, ef ther red sculper caught us nappin’. He’s a net tornader, an’ ther’ hain’t no discount on im. The shanties burned fiercely, and illuminated the whole town; and, as the * citz” pointed for the Nugget, all were again brought to a halt and filled with the utmost astonishment, for, sitting on the window-sill of Marm Holbrook’s “bestest room,” his legs dangling free and easy outside, was Arizona Jack! “Say, yer all-fired, rip-staving galoots!” he sung out; ‘‘ how many circusses and menageries have bu’sted in this cussed country, tbat I see so many ‘Wild Men of Borneo,’ ‘ Kehoe Giants,’ and such kind of animals? Or is this the head- pare that they all come from—a sort of arnum nursery, so to speak? Reckon the boss showman has collected and corraled you all here, to get up a corner on the other canvas knights,” ‘“Wa-al, dang me!” exclaimed Tom Jones; “ef I ever see’d a mild, skim-milk sort 0’ cha change so all-firedly in sich a fleetin’ period, Let’s glide up nigher, boyees, an’ gaze at ther cuss, “* Reckon,” yelled one of the ‘ citz,” ‘‘ thet we-uns hes gut you corraled *bout now, my young jack-rabbit!” “That would do me for a cognomen,” re- turned Arizona Jack, Speers me ‘cif 1 had only once thought of it, But.as 1 have my belt engraved already, I'll stand and ‘whoop her through or bu’st’ on ‘ Arizona Jack,’ Yes, you have me corraled, as you say; but I’m fixed for grub for a while. I'l run the hotel alone, regis- ter my name every day, and pass a half-eagle from one pocket into the other.” “By ther perrarer-dog-eatin’ Piutes!” said Giant George, admiringly ; “Pye bin samplin’ thet coon with eye ao’ ear, an’ I asserwates ag’in, an’ takes a double-barreled affidavy, thet I pards with him, You hear me, boyees! I'm talkin’ stud-hoss sense when I chalks bim down a fit pard fer ther ‘ Bald-headed Eagle o’ ther Rockies.’ Come on, pards, an’ pay yer re spec’s, Headed hy Giant George and Tem Jones, the “ citz” now advanced toward the Nugget more amicably. “Good-evening, coyotes; I'm going down to take a drink.” Thus spoke Arizona Jack as they came up, at the same time slinging his legs into the window, ** Hold on thar, a minit! we want ter perlaver a leetle, pard,” called out the giant scout. “No, you don't, my bucks! [I'm up to your little games. If you want any first-class Eng- lish from me, you must leave your pistols. You comprehend?” ‘All kerrect,” agreed Giant George. ‘*Tom an’ Pll leave our shooters abind—look!” and, holding their revolvers in air over their heads, they bade the “citz” take them, and then ad- vanced beneath the window. ‘Now, pard,” said the scout, ‘sling us your story. Who’s run ag*in’ yer, an’ what’s yer so skeery 0’ we~uns fer?” “ Well, I don’t think you can run in any new racket on me yet awhile, so Pll tell you square up. I came to this town two days ago, to get
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Giant Geo an insight into frontier life and look around me generally. I put up at this hotel—God save the mark!—and lay low the first day, writing a long letter to my brother, Tom Burke, in Wil- mington, Delaware. I put in to-day—that is, the day just past—talking with Madam Hol- brook, and thinking I'd go through the town and up the mountain in theevening. I didn’t think then that the infernal town would at- tempt to go through me.” Here Giant George and Tom Jones burst into hearty laughter. “You needn’t laugh, gentlemen. for there don’t any laugh come in through the whole business, “The history of this town, so romantic in situation and so dashed primitive in construc- tion, was very interesting to me; and Madam Holbrook volunteered to show me her front room, and also to relate a very moving and en- tertaining story in connection with it. I was shown the very identical bed upon which slept the celebrated Angel of the Pinaleno Range. I was much interested in the Angel, as also in one Giant George and a pet jackass of his—” ‘©Whoop!” cried out George, interrupting him, and then jumping into the air. Turning to Tom Jones, he said, in a low tone, and one that was unusual with him: “ Jumpin’ Jericho, Tom! Don Diablo an’—” The scout hesitated, and then went on; ‘t The burro, an’ Marm Holbrook, an’ Hank air in ther hearse! They air thar till yit, an’ we-uns must run ’em in.” “Never mind ’em, George,” said the sheriff. “They air all asleep, an’ es safe es ef they was in ther ‘ Nugget.’” “ What’s the matter down there?” asked Ari- zona Jack. “* Perceed,” said Giant George, with a wave of the hand; “ we air a-listenin’ terevery word, with our ha’r jam’d back o’ our ears.” “ All right,” said Jack, ‘ Well, as I remarked, I was deeply interested, and studying on the horrors cf the story, thanked the good Lord that I was not on the spot to act the part of Hank, George, Black Bill, Sport, or any of the crowd. I was thinking this over as I was going to the stairs, but not so deeply but that I heard Madam Holbrook remark, with just a shade of anxiety, that she expected her husband to bave the jim-jams. “T got one-third of the way down, when, by the Great Cesar! such yells and shrieks filled the Nugget that I thought at least a thousand most terrible murders were being perpetrated, by a pre-arranged signal, all at once and upon every sex, age and condition of servitude. I stopped in horror. I heard Madam Holbrook say, in a terrified voice, ‘ Bless my soul! Hank’s ut ’em. He’s gut ‘em bad. I tole yer so, ack!’—this, asin a dream, But, by the Royal Harry, I was not in a dreamlike state long, for I was hurled like a catapult to the floor below, and then an avalanche of female Holbrook was launched upon me! **T began to think there must be a mistake as to which side of the Holbrook family had the jim-jams. I was so broken up, jammed up and imp, that I couldn’t have chawed clabber if I rge’s Pard. had been starving. I heard the crashing of glass, and having managed to raise myself to a sitting posture, I saw the door between the bar and the kitchen burst open witha sudden bang, and a big dog went past me like a blue streak, “As the door flew open, a terrible sight burst upon me. I saw one man drag another from under the bar by the legs and swing the shrieking wretch over his shoulders, holding him by the feet like a sack of grain, and then run like a fiend, the poor man hanging head downward. ‘Then I caught sight of a stage piled full on top, with a mountain howitzer mule mixed in, coming on a wild gallop. And such yells! Great Lord! I can hear them yet. ell, thought I, so they hadn’t quite enough here to drive out an inoffensive traveler, so they sent to Colorado for desperadoes. The stage came a- humming and the whole population rushed to- ward me. Everything that I had gone through up to this was nothing. If pandemonium hadn’t taken a powerful emetic, then I knew nothing of the effects of that kind of medicine. They were showing me frontier life with a vengeance, but I bad seen enough of it, I turned to crawl back, when I verily believe a couple of hundred of them commenced shooting at me, and yellin out for me to stop and face the music, I forgo that I was already a used-up man, so I sprung to my feet, and made for the bowlders like a madman. I jumped into the first shaft T reach- ei, hoping to land in China; but I struck mud and water at about twenty feet, How long I remained there in the darkness, I don’t know; but it was long enough to make me mad asa hatter. ‘Out I crawled from the shaft, when I found it was night, and all quiet along the range. Then I started for the hotel, bound to get my tricks and horse, and to put out for—a worse place, possibly. “T got lost, and the first thing I knew, an Indian went for me, I ran off and crawled under a shanty. The red cuss followed, and set it on fire, to burn me out, I suppose; but I crawled under and came out on the other side, and then cut through the sage-brush to the next shanty, and under that. Hanged if he dédn’t set that shanty on fire, too! Then I began to see that the situation was really becoming desper- ate. I got boiling mad, and swore I’d stay in the confounded burg, and runit, too, The town had been running me long enough. **T jumped the cuss, and we had a lively time of it; but Ican handle a knife, and I laid bim out at last. He gave a yell, and I saw abouta dozen more painted cusses cut and run, for the fire was blazing up lively by this. ‘‘Pm a cold-blooded murderer from this out, but you roosters got me intoit. Send your select- men around first. I'll clean them. Then, the citizens, as soon as you like, I’m a stranger, weak, and considerably cut up, but this is a worse town than a Comanche village, and it has got to go under, ‘There won’t be tin enough left of this blasted Sardine-box to make a tobacco tag, when I get through with it!”
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Giant George’s Pard. CHAPTER V. THE WAR-PATH. “Spr byer, Pard Jack,” said Giant George; “ hit’s all hunk, We-uns tumbles ter "bout balf yer lingo, but bit’s enough aw’ more ter show yer white an’squar’. Thar ain’t a pilgrim in this byar burg but what'll go his pile on yer, an’ we'd like ter "dopt yer right from the word go. Yer ther mistakenest man in Arizone. Hank Holbrook would ’a’ bad ther jiro-jams ef we~’uns hedn’t shook ’em outen him. My cog are Giant George; an’ hit war me an’ Don Diablo what pod *roved in ther burg, an’ sot ther circus-goin’, *m the Bald-headed Eagle o’ ther Rockies, an’ I wants yer fera pard. Come down. Open ther shebang, an’ we'll all errigate. Then yer kin fix up an’ we'll pull up the hearse what we lef’ be- low when we see’d ther blaze.” To say that Arizona Jack was astonished would be putting it mild, Slowly, however, all the skein was untangled. His head bad struck the floor when he and Marm Holbrook took the combination Niagara leap, which had somewhat disarranged his reasoning machinery ; but it had been the best tumble he ever made, for in one jump, he had won the good-will and fast friend- ship of the mountain men, including Giant George, the boss scout and pard of Yuba Billand a host of other notable New Mexico and Arizona trailers. For a moment Jack gazed down at the **citz,” then slinging his sombrero whirling through the street, he sprung inside, and went down the stairs in the darkness nearly as fast as when he had been propelled by Marm Holbrook, Ina trice he had thrown open the door, and springing forward grasped the outstretched hand of Giant George; while Tom Jones and the other “* citz” flocked around, staring curiously at the ‘much torn and demoralized stranger, whose ex- rience had been so rough on the second day of is stay in their burg. “Pard,” said the giant scout, ‘* we're all right glad ter shake with yer, an’ ter see thet yer hes got ype well mashed up in short meter, but er’d soon be O. K. ag’in, an’ kin flicker ’roun’ yer with yer pards et every turn.” ‘“7TLow me, es sheriff o’ this burg,” said Tom Jones, his pride of office suddenly returning; ‘ow me ter welcome yer ter Sardine-box City, an’ ter say thet everything byer air open ter yer.” Then turning about, he added: ‘ Feller- citz,’ this byer rilgriso, Arizona Jack, air no more a tender-hoof. He hes sent over ther range Hand, ther ’Pache scarifier in a fa’r knife fight, an’ don’t any on yer fergit hit!” All Erect hands with Jack in genuine friendship. ‘* Now, Tom Whipple,” instructed the sheriff, “take Jack inter Marm Holbrook’s kitchen, strike a light, an’ fix things fer a wash, an’ then pateh up them bruises 0’ hisn. Arter he braces up with grub he kin turn in, an’ he'll wake up fresh fer biz; fer I reckon he kin hev a show ter sen’ some more ’Paches on ther ‘long dark trail.’ Which way did ther ’tarnal red niggers skute, Jack?” “Toward the mountains,” was the rep] “How many did yer see flicker?” ree. ** About a dozen,” Y eiaed spi giegse ae us See AS eaier ee “Yer hes gut solid hoss sense, Jack,” said Giant George. ‘‘Fix our pard up Whipple an’ take good keer o’ him, We-uns 1 take ‘bou four fingers, then roll up ther hearse easy like, soes not ter wake up ther passengers. Don Diablo I] be dang’d glad ter git sich a long snooze, fer I gin~rally rattles him ’round purty liyely when I’m on a jamboree.” Whipple accompanied Arizona Jack into the kitchen, and proceeded in a business-like man- ner to make a new man of him, Giant George then went into the kitchen to see if Arizona Jack was being ‘‘ fixed.” ‘* How do he pan out, Whipple, in the way o’ bleed-holes?” ‘He is cut several times, but he did not allow Red Hand to get a direct point stab at him. He’llsoon be allright. The worst thing is the loss of blood, but he is young and of splen- ded physique, so that won’t so much matter. He needs food and a good night’s sleep, and then Nature may be trusted to do the rest.” “Waz-al, Jack, ole , take keer o’ yerself, an’ lay low. MHyer’s whar Marm Holbrook patched me up arter Sport shot me, an’I was on ther trail wi’ ther Angel ther same night. So long! We-uns is goin’ arter thet dog-goned hearse,” ‘‘Never mind me, pard George,” said Jack. **T feel like a new man already. So long!” Giant George and the ‘“citz” then set out. Luckily the moon bad now risen, and they soon got a sight of the coach. “* Boyees!” exclaimed the scout, ‘* thar’s some- thin’ wrong, dang’d ef thar ain't! Don Diablo ain’t thar!’ All saw this fact, and stampeded in a wild run. George reached the coach first. The doors were open, and be sprung in; but the next mo- ment he was out and rolling on the ground in an agony of grief such as the “citz” bad never before seen him display, and for which they were unable to account, The loss of Don Dia- blo they knew would affect him greatly, but the burro had often strayed for days, and then tnrned up. Marm Holbrook and Hank were goue, but it was probable tbat the latter had an attack of delirium tremens, and had run wild among the foot-hills, bis wife following him. They would fetch up in due time. The coach now swarmed with men, and Tom Jones soon discovered that the boot had been cut open, and probably many things taken, He sprung at once to the ground, and got down on his knees by the side of Giant George, who was rolling over and over, and groaning in ap- parent agony. | ‘*Pard George,” said the sheriff, sympathiz- ingly, “whbat ails yer? For God’s sake speak, e-uns ‘ll find Hank and Marm Holbrook. They hes gut tired waitin’ fer us, an’ made a break fer ther burg with Don Diablo, an’ gut lost. Cbeer up, pard.” He knew that they had Tom knew better. been captured. “George,” he now said, “did you hev ther money aboard ter purchase ther mersheen- ery? Never mind; we’uns don’t keer a dang. Let her rip! We'll pan out dust enough ter make all squar’, ef yer was sponsible fer hit, Pir | Se ee ee ee th ay:
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10 Giant George’s Pard. ES Git up, ole pard, er I'd hev spasmodics an’ skip over ther divide.” The giant scout staggered to his feet, trem- bling from head to heel, going around the coach, tearing his hair and grinding his teeth; then he threw his old sombrero to the earth, and raising his clinched fists as he bent back- ward, fastened his eyes upon the heavens, while from his white and trembling lips came in hoarse, unnatural tones the words: ‘God Almighty, I never doubted yer afore, never; but I, Giant George, doubts yer now!” Tom Jones and the others were petrified with wonder. They saw that his emotions were sin- cere and that his face had the pallor of death. He had been all right until he bad found that the coach was empty. This proved that the change had been occasioned by something or some one very dear to him, and now lost. Tom Jones went up to bis pard once more, and putting his arm around him, said in what was a low and pleading voice for bim: “Pard George, fer ther love of yer mother, al gone, tell yer ole pard what hes struck yer The burly, gigantic form trembled for a moment, as if even those tones grated upon a sacred grief, which bound him as witha chain, Then he pointed toward the town, as he whis- pered hoarsely: “Come! weuns wants hosses quick as God will let us. We must ride, fly! Look!” Staggering to the coach, he pulled an arrow from beneath the wood-work and the canvas lining, only an inch of the shaft having project- rl but this his practiced eye had caught at the ti, He twisted it in his hands, tore it to splinters in his teeth, and held the fragments within his clinched hand, which he raised heavenward, gazing upward at the same time, as if taking an oath; but no sound left his lips. The ‘‘citz” stood staring upon him in awe, and even Tom dared not speak to him, as he strode in long and rapid strides toward the town, all walking as fast as they could, in order that they might not lose sight of him. What it all meant none could imagine, and for the first time they began to fear him. They now believed that the giant scout was insane. They knew that the capture of Hank and wife, and of Don Diablo, could not have given oc- pesien for this extraordinary exhibition of emo- ion. Straight to the ‘‘ Nugget” he went, and halted at the door, having by that time grown calmer as he said: : ‘Ef yer hes any regard fer yer God, fer_yer- selves, er fer me, git ready fer a long trail, an’ a hard one, es speedy es yer kin!” Every man rushed, without a word, to_pre- pare for the trail, for they now saw that Giant George was as sane as any one among them, ous As at he was getting himself ready tor the star Tom Jones made his preparations in five min- _ utes, and riding to the ‘‘ Nugget,” dismounted and informed Arizona Jack that his landlord aud jendiac? had been captured by Apaches, - and that all were going on the trail. They would, therefore, leaye him im charge of the burg; but Jack indignantly declined the honor, and swore stoutly that he would go also. Tom Jones remonstrated in vain, and Jack went about getting himself in readiness at once. Giant George soon galloped up, and with him were about twenty of the “‘ citz,” being all that had horses. Tom filled all their canteens, and they drew up in line; when, without a word, the giant scout led off in the direction of the coach. Here he came toa halt and raised his hand, making a gesture to call their attention, Arizona Jack now rode up beside him, fully equipped, and feeling in much better condition than he did previous to his wash and general “fix up.” Giant George gave him his hand quietly, and _ with a glance of gratitude, and then addressed the ‘ citz”: “‘ Pards, I know yer hes bin thinkin’ hit mighty strange, thet way of actin’ o’ mine since I fu’st diskivered thet ther hearse war empty; but when I ’splain, I think yer will all “low hit war called fer. Yersee the hearse air bigger nor ary one ever driv’ inter this burg. I gut hit fer a purpos’. Yer see’d inside a seat fixed on springs like a bed, an jest es soft. Wa-al, on thet seat thar rid a lady who war sick with heaps 0’ trouble, an’ yer mought think queer I ‘lowed Sam ter drive so dang’d fast, but she wanted me ter do hit. “She hes los’ by yaller fever within two mon’s, her ole dad, ber sister, an’ her pard—thet is, her husband—an’ she wanted ter come with ole Giant George ter Sardine-box City an’ see ther boyees, an’ look et her brother’s grave ag’in in Dead Man’s Gulch. Pards”—and tho big tears coursed down the cheeks of the scout as he spoke—“ pards, ther dang’d scarefyin’ *Paches hes tuck Hank, an’ Marm Holbrook, an’ Don Diablo, an’ they hes tuck ther Angel o’ Penarlayno Range!” A wild and vengeful yell rung from every throat, and men spurred their horses close to- gether in a mixed and maddened mob. Giant George now sprung from his horse, and went down on his knees beyond the coach and the group of,‘‘ citz.” He rubbed the tears out of his eyes, roughly and hastily with his buck- skin sleeves, and then searched the dewy ee for the trail of Victoria’s band of mur- lerers, CHAPTER VL. AN ORIGINAL PRAYER. Wuen Giant George proceeded to examine the ground on the south side of the coach, his object was to endeavor, by the “sign,” to ascer- tain the number of the war-party. His judg- ment told him, and the point from whence the arrow had heen fired, led to the same conclu- sion, that the Indians had not only approached from the direction of the canyon, but that they had massed on that side of the coach, Sardine- — box City being on the opposite side. Conse- uently the ‘‘citz” had been addressed from the side next the burg, and kept themselves — there, as they watched the movements of the burly scout. To a tenderfoot, the proceedings of Giant George would haye seemed foolish in the ex-
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Giant George’s Pard. ‘treme, but every point between the coach and the canyon was carefully examined, except of | 0’ me.” course where bowlders and clumps of cacti made it unnecessary. During the examination the ‘“‘citz” made a full inspection of the coach, including the springy and cushioned seat which their bene- faztress had occupied. ‘““Who put Marm Holbrook in ther coach?” inquired the sheriff. : “7 chucked her in,” answered one of the “oe citz.” “Didn't yer see nobody on ther back seat?” “Ther curtins was down, an’ I didn’t look. I didn’t s’pose thar war ary a passenger along.” “ Hit’s strange that Marm Holbrook didn’t see the Ang’l, and yell out ter us boyees; an’ hit’s stranger yit thet George never tole us she war with bim.” “T suppose,” put in Arizona Jack, “‘ that the lady wanted to give you all a surprise. Per- haps she intended to get into the ‘* Nugget ” without being seen, go to her room, and have a night’s rest before undergoing the excitement; although I must say I think she had consider- able of it as it was, judging from what I heard of it. However, as she is il] and weak, and has had a long and tedious journey ,tit is quite likely that she was asleep when Marm Holbrook was fired into the coach.” “Pard Jack,” said Tom Jones, ‘all yer bes spit out is solid hoss sense, an’ Il reckon hit’s bin *bout es yer say. But, by the Lord Harry, Vl save her, er die a-tryin’. Thar ain’t a man hyer but hes bin saved by her from bein’ short o bread an’ bacon more’n onc’t since we-~uns see’d her.” “You don’t suppose they’ll murder, or tor- td the captives, do you, Tom?” asked Arizona ack. “They mought, when they gits ter the’r vil- lidge, an’ they air dead sure ter butcher ’em ef we runs in on ’em suddint like. Hit’s gut to ee fine work, Hit’s a bard ole section, With long strides Giant George now came uy to them. There was a hard look of mingled anguish and hate frozen upon his face, which seemed to have aged ten years since he arrived. Springing upon his steed, he spurred up to the “ citz,” saying in a cold, hard voice: “ Pards, thar’s bout twenty o’ ther red hell- yuns what war byer, an’ I know’d thar warn’t more, er they’d tuck a streak through ther burg. Mebbe so they'll j'ine another party in a day’s ride, but I hope not. Tom, yer hed bet- ter take ten men, an’ glide down ther stage- trail, an’ see ef ther sculpers went thet-a-way; while t?other boyees an’ me’ll jist meander through the foothills iz ther way 0’ Dead Man’s Gulch. Strike straight fer ter meet us, an’ we may see something afore hit’s morning. We hes a dead sure thing on tha’r strikin’ up ther range, either by ther canyon, er ther open perrarer. Ef thar’s two parties, they'll be brash, an’ show open sign, but ef ther’s only one they'll leave a ore trail, an’ lay low, fer they know we'll fol- r. ‘Shall I go with you, Pard George?’ asked ack. ‘* Hit) be ther heftiest travelin’, but ef yer ea eee ree ae eee pak cea a a Eels thinks yer kin stan’ it, I'd like ter hev yer ‘long * Allright! Dll go, an’ ef I break down Pl camp by myself; but I think Ican make the riffle.” Not another word was spoken. The scout, followed by Arizona Jack and nine of the “‘citz,” filed through the bowlders and cedars west of them, and Tom Jones and his party, in the same order, struck out south along the stage road; to pass by it the rough route toward the open plain, and then west, up the range, paral- lel with the course of Giant George aud bis party, the latter being in the rough canyons and foothills. Thus the night-riders glided silently in the moonlight, no noise accompany- ing their movements except the occasional striking of a hoof against a stone. A score of men armed to the teeth, their hearts filled with a mad longing for revenge, a host in themselves, but yet only hojing by stealth and strategy to gain their object. But then, after the captives were safe, woe be to the red marauders, even were vengeance hundreds of miles away! So, snake-like, on they wound. Giant George chose the low ground, to avoid observation from any near spy, and at length entered the head of a wash-out that at first would scarcely conceal a burro, but which grew deeper snd deeper, until its sides towered high above their heads. From this they entered the same canyon, up which, three months previous, George had guided Lena Lawrence to her brother’s grave. On, on, in the dark depths, until a break in the bank allowed the moon to shine down upon the bed of the canyon. Here the giant sccut threw up bis band, and every man drew rein, while their leader dismounted to ascertain if the Apaches had traveled in this direction; for, until this point was reached, it was impossible to tell, on account of the darkness. Some ten paces from his horse went Giant George: then, turning to face the moon, he knelt to the earth, but as he bent forward to search for “sign,” he was brought to his feet on the instant, for there burst upon the night air acry of the bitterest anguish and hopeless despair. ie was no longer need to bunt for the rail, Never did man bound to the saddle with more alacrity than did the scout, as he started at headlong speed, followed by the gallant moun- tain-men. Once again that fearful cry pierced the night air; and on, like an arrow shot from a bow went Giant George. Suddenly he turned to the right, and disappeared among the gloomy depths of a side gorge, soon followed by his men, their teeth set, their weapons gripped, their eyes fixed and staring into the dark chaos before em. Soon the giant scout emerged from the dark- ness, bis horse plunging madly into the circular basin at the bead of Dead Man’s Gulch. Not twenty feet from the dark chasm, out of which he had plunged, Giant George brought his horse to his hauncbes, and the next moment he was joined by Arizona Jack, soon followed by the “citz” and all, as they came to a halt, :
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Giant George’s Pard. sitting appalled on their steeds, as once more that dread cry sounded high up in front of them, over the pines that shadowed the grave of poor Sam Lawrence, Another instant, and the moon shone out, disclosing a scene that stopped the beating of their hearts. The naked body of a man, white, terribly white, as con- trasted with the black rocks and stripes of blood, was suspended some thirty yards up the bank, and above the pines! When we consider that the men who now gazed upon this horrible scene knew that the savage act had been committed by the same red fiends who held a beautiful woman whom they all idolized, and two friends and neighbors of their own captive, we can more clearly enter into their feelings, which would have been heart-rending even had this not been the case. Tom Jones and his men had by this time come up, and he and Giant George, each taking an extra lariat from the cantle of their saddles, bounded up the rough cliff toa point beyond the tortured being, a way which the scout knew would lead toward the pines to which the ropes were attached, these trees standing upon a narrow shelf, but which was still quite ac- cessible. The pines were soon reached, an extra lariat secured to one of the ropes which held the suf- ferer; the other rope was then cut, the connec- tion with the first severed, and the victim of Apache torture slowly lowered. A number of the ‘ citz” stood ready at the foot of the cliff, and received the sufferer, who was tenderly carried through the motte, and laid upon a blanket, Those who had ascended the cliff were soon with them, and bending over him, “ May ther Ormighty fergit me forever,” ex- claimed Giant George, “Sef hit ain’t poor Ter- rif!” ‘< Hit ain’t Terrif no longer,” said Tom Jones. ‘Ther good Lord hes taken him whar thar ain’t no’Paches.” —. None were there, except Arizona Jack, who did not know Terrif the vaquero, and all bowed their heads as they recognized an old friend, and took an extra oath of fearful vengeance. Yes; that poor, gore-covered and mutilated corpse, was the once gay Terrif, the ‘ Terrific Tarantula of the Tropics,” as he had been dubbed, the same who had onze ridden from the range, at, the request of Giant George, to ask tho aid of the “citz” in capturing the Pan- thers in their den, and recoyer the girl that Sardine-box City had adopted, this same ‘t An- el,” who had then besn captured by El Capi- an’s ruffians who had found her weeping over the grave she had traveled so many weary miles to find. And now poor Terrif had been foully tortured and murdered over that very grave, And what agony now wrung the heart of the brave scout, who knew that Lena Reynolds had, amid her savage captors, been hurried along the same trail that she had traveled with himself, but three months before; and had been compelled, perhaps, to sit her horse amid those paint-daubed savagés and witness the horrible torture of poor Terrif, who must have been suddenly come upon and captured at Dead Mam’s Gulch! The giant scout now, with ‘Tom Jones, Ari- zona Jack, and one of the ‘‘citz,” each caught upa corner of the blanket, and bere the re- mains of poor Terrif into the motte of murmur- — ing pines, the i Scan whisperings of which t but death, Sr ens bloody could be of naug: death. ’ There they laid him by the side of that _well- known grave; and there, close by Sam Law- rence’s resting-place, a shallow hole was soon made, and into it the dead cowboy was laid. CHAPTER VII. THE ANGEL, Tux old ‘‘ hearse” had been left in darkness, except that some moments after the sudden de- parture of Giant George and the “ citz” when the flames frora the shantiés rose higher, a flickering light played upon the north side of it, showing Don Diablo standing lazily upon three legs, giving the other a temporary rest, while his long ears hung down asif all their muscles haa been abstracted. Beneath the burro lay poor Hank Holbrook. his mouth wide open, and his arms clutched around Don’s fore-feet. At times Hank’s mus- cles would twitch spasmodically, as though he were grappling with some imaginary foe, and then his grip would tighten about the legs of the burro; without, however, disturbing the slumbers of the latter in the least, But, let us look inside this strangely-situated vehicle. Marm Holbrook sat on the front seat. bolt upright, stiff and rigid, with her eyes fixed upon the curtained recess in the rear, where all was in darkness. When the landlady had fallen down-stairs upon Arizona Jack, she had been greatly shocked, for there had been quite a struggle, and she knew that the young man ramets been not a little hurt, asshe had tumbled di- rocay upon him, and with no gentle force at that. When she had disentangled herself, she had made a rush, in her confusion and excitement, to the best room; but when she saw Tom Jones: running up the street with Hank hanging over his back, she wasso astonished that she knew not what to do next; and she feared as well that Arizona Jack would follow her in his fury atthe treatment he had received, and inflict | some personal violence upon her, Eventually she peeped down the stairway, and saw that Jack was gone; so she went stealthily to the kitchen, and then to the bar, where, bearing the hubbub, She ran into the street in time to witness the return of Giant George and Don Diablo. Marm Holbrook was in an eestasy. _Sardine- box City was itself again. She bad always heen treated with the greatest respect by the rough characters of the town, and she was con- sidered the mother of the burg, so to speak. Consequently, when the next moment she found herself roughly jerked from her feet and thrown into the coach, her sensitive nature received a sever3 shock, and she was so demoralized that she hardly knew where she was, and did not even glance around her new quarters, but smoothed her ruffled plumage as best she could — and sat listening to the speech of Giant George
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to the crowd, feeling better at once when she heard him say that the “‘ Angel” had sent her ‘love to Marm Holbrook.” When the coach was turned about to return to the burg, she was at once relieved; but when the fire was discovered, and the ‘‘citz” let go, and rushed toward the scene, her heart sprung to her throat at “he thought that perhaps Nug- get Hotel and the precious treasures in the best room were being destroyed; but the lurch of the coach forced her to her feet, and there, in front of her, she saw a form darker than the surroundings, with a face white as the purest marble. It was recumbent, was buman with- out a doubt, and it was alive. But bow was this? Surely no human being could bave re- clined in sleep through all the recent uproar and confusion. This the poor woman was not slow in deciding, and she began to tremble. She could not remove her gaze from that white face, and at length she became convinced that its owner was dead. What mystery was this? ‘Would Giant George, who, she felt sure was “running the hearse,” would he allow the driver to go at such a speed, to perform as they had done, all the time knowing what was with- a it? Not he, She knew him too well for at. Then what was it? “‘Great Lord,” she cried out to herself, ‘is it a ghost?” arm Holbrook could hardly breathe. She forgot even that the Nugget Hotel, including her precious best room, might be in the em- brace of the pitiless flames. If ever the good woman had occasion—in her mind—to wish herself back ‘‘ Texas-way,” it was now; and sbe certainly did, from the very bottom of her heart, little dreaming that ber present condition was heaven itself, compared with what was to come. And come it did, too soon, A scratching and tearing without caused Marm Holbrook to turn to the door of the coach, at once breaking the spell which had bound her. She wrenched at the fastenings, the door opened suddenly, and she fell into the arms of a hideous Apache brave, whose guttur- al ‘‘ Ugh!” had to her all the sound of a death- warrant, She strove to scream, but her tongue refused its office, Just then the clear space around the coach was lit up by the flames from the burning shanties, and as this solitary brave secured his helpless captive, near a score of painted war- riors galloped up on their balf-wild steeds from among the bowlders and cedars, Alternate stripes of vermilion and yellow ochre were drawn from throat to belt, on the bare breast of the chief; stripes of the same hues ran across his cheeks, and from brow to hair, while broad rings of silver filagree were upon his arms, and a crescent of silver engraved in Mexican style, was suspended from his neck by a silver chain. His fillet, that confined his hair, and also three black eagle-feathers, was a band of inter- locked links of silver, .All this proved that he belonged toa tribe bordering on Mexico, and Giant George’s Pard. a is” whose hunting-grounds were within her limits, asno other tribes are thus ornamented unless by barter they gain one or more of the most common silver ornaments of the kind that have been described. An Apache, or a Comanche, never parts with the highly engraved set which he obtains by a raid into Mexico, except when his life goes with them, Urging his steed up to the brave, who stood erect by his captive, the chief said, approving- Vie Chuchillo has done well. El Orso knows he has but few mustangs. He shall have many. Where is Red Hand?” ‘ Muerto,” was the laconic answer, * Oaspita !” exclaimed the chief in vexation, shaking bis fist toward Sardine-box City. ‘* El Orso willhave many white scalps for bis life. Red Hand wasagreat brave. His lodge-pole hangs heavy with scalps. His squaw will sleep in the nopals, and sit in ashes, until he is avenged; but that shall not be long. Come!” Riding up to the coach, he jerked open the door without dismounting; buf bis steed, with a snort of frantic terror, bounded to one side, nearly unseating El] Orso, and out from the vehicle stepped a woman so white, so ethereally beautiful that the chief sprung from bis affright- ed horse, while the animal made vain efforts to break away from him. There the woman stood by the side of the coach, dressed in the deepest sable, and gaz- ing upon the savage chief with an eye that never flinched. She even stepped toward him, shane El Orso, the bloodthirsty Apache, drew ack, Every warrior stood in his tracks, or sat his saddle, as if filled with some superstitious dread, The mustangs trembled, snorted, and strove to fly. “ Bl Orso will bring a horse. Santissima Blanco has spoken, and ber word is not the wind!” Thus spoke the black-appareled woman with the ghastly white face, and if ever Indians were surprised, these Apaches were they. For the first time, probably, in their lives, they were thunderstruck and overcome with awe. For once, too, El] Orso was speechless, spell- bound, and frozen in his tracks. while cold and creeping chills appeared to be shaking his iron frame. Walking up to one of the Indian mustangs that was trembling as she approached it, the woman loosened the jaw-strap from the tree to which an Indian had bound bim but a minute previous, spoke gently to the animal, patted him, and placed her hand caressingly upon his nostrils, . Instantly the animal became docile, and, after a few moments’ petting, nestled its head against the woman in black. Then spring- ing into the saddle, she urged the horse toward the chief, calling out: “Come! Dios Grande calls El Orso to the west.” There was a wildness in the eyes of the strange woman that would have heen impres- sive under any circumstances, but which was now especially so to an ignorant savage, and
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(7 ae = Giant George’s Pard. all the superstitious nature of the chief and his braves was aroused. At that moment, Lena Reynolds, the ‘‘ Angel o’ ther Penarlayno Range,” could bave ridden away free and un- molested; but she was playing a bold game to save Marm Holbrook, who had been her friend in the past—a game which she could not have played had she not been half-demented with grief, through the loss of all on earth that she cared to live for; and, in addition to this, her brain had been rendered unnatural by the use of opiates, “Who is Santissima Blanco, that she orders El Orso?” The Apache chief asked this question in a voice and manner that betrayed the feelings within him, and the ‘‘ Angel” knew the power that she held over him, “Santissima Blanco is a daughter of Hl Dios Grande, who bas sent her to teach El Orso and his braves many things that they do not know,” **Why did she come in the wheel-lodge? Can she not fly like the eagle?” “When El Dios Grande wills it, she will y “Good. El Orso will go toward the west, but he goes not alone.” So saying, and waving his hand to his braves, they at once proceeded to rifle the coach. This they were not long in ac- complishing. Don Diablo was forced to make a flying leap over the hind boot, and Hank Holbrook found himself shaken into consciousness by no gentle hands, Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, poor Hank cried out: “Rah fer ther Angel o’ Penarlayno Range!” As these words reached the ears of Lena Rey- nolds, she fervently thanked God that He had given her strength and resolution to act as she had done. Sbe would try now and play the game out, if possible, to the bitter end, for the sake of the poor simple couple who had befriend- ed her in the days agone. Poor Hank Holbrook did not come to himself sufficiently to realize his situation, or the char- acter of those who had bound him fast upon the back of a horse. Marm Holbrook, when secured in the same way, was so completely paralyzed with fear and horror, she having but come to her senses, that she was speachless; and it was probably as well that she was so. A rope was tied around Don Diablo's neck, and he was led yd without appearing to care, as his owner would have expressed it, ‘* whether school kept or not,” The plunder of the coach was packed upon extra horses, and when all was at length ready, the chief rode up to Santissima Blanco, saying mildly: “Come. El Orso will show Apache Land to tha daughter of Hl Dios Grande. We go where He calls.” Lena followed the Apache chief, and the braves with their captive came after. It would be impossible to describe the feel- ings of the ‘‘ Angel” when she found that they were riding up Dead Man’s Gulch; and, as she neared her brother’s grave, the fortitude which had thus far enabled her to act such a heroic part, in the hope of saving her own and the lives of her old friends, deserted her, and draw- ing pa her black vail, she gave way to her grief, However, there was no need for vailing her face, as it was dark as Ezypt in the gulch, Only three months before Lena had ridden up this same dark underground passage, dressed in the buckskin suit of her poor brother, and under the guidance of Giant George, to visit that brother’s grave. What achange! Now she was going toward the same point, held captive by a horde of the most merciless savages in tihe universe; broken in grief by the loss of all her relatives, with naught to live for except the one hope that she migbt be able to help those who had been kind to her in that former pilgrimage. Suddenly, in the midst of her bitterest thoughts, a shot, followed by most blood-curd- ling yells, broke upon the stillness from the front, and she began to shudder with a new and terrible dread. Lena Reynolds heard the shot and the yell and the terrible whoops that followed it, and the next moment they rode into the basin, There, in the bright moonlight, near her brother’s grave, a score of war-painted demons were dancing, circling, howling and brandish- ing their weapons about the bleeding form of her old friend, Terrif, who stood in their midst, his clothes torn from his body, his face ghast- ly and bleeding from many wounds, but firm and defiant as of old, although he well knew that death, and a death the most horrible, would soon be his. ; CHAPTER VIII. THE BOY FOR ARIZONA. As has been said, the graves of Sam Lawrence and poor Terrif were in a pine motte, at the very base of the mountain range. The foliage was of the very densest, and the ‘“citz” led their horses up beneath the branches, when they witnessed the burial of the brave boy who had been beloved by all. While they were thus standing, Arizona Jack stole out on the north side of the motte and looked around in the moonlight to see if an opening offered near them. Nothing met his view over the landscape, and be turned about and gazed upward on the mountain-side. As he did so, his heart suddenly stopped beating, for a sight met his eye that would have been appalling to him a few days previous. All the ‘“citz” were now screened from view by the pines, and working noiselessly, Crawling along a ledge which led around a a of the mountain and communicated with the narrow ledge, upon which stood the two small pieces of which we have spoken, was a hideous Apache Indian. He was evidently a rear spy, and had been sent back to see if any parties were following on the trail. Arizona Jack thanked his luck stars that an opportunity was open to show his skill with a knife—a skill that had already saved him in the burg, and enabled him to send Red Hand over the range. 5 When Jack had gone up the mountain-side to a
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eut poor Terrif loose, he had noticed that the ledge, upon which grew the two pines, ended abruptly some twenty feet beyond them, and it was with great satisfaction that he now saw the savage proceed toward these trees, and certain- ly still unaware of the presence of the whites. The face and brow of this brave were daubed with stripes of white gypsum, the war-paint of the braves of the whole Apache nation, with the exception of the chief. Upon his breast was an imitation of a cres- cent moon of the same gypsum, which is plenti- fully found on the plains. This paint, or what is used as such, causes an Apache to look hideous in the extreme, from the contrast of the ghastly white with the bronzed skin, He was naked from the waist up, wearing only buckskin leggins and moccasins. His movements were as quick as those of a panther, and like that animal he stole along the ledge, half-bent, with a long scalping-knife in his hand. It was not a minute after Arizona Jack had dis- covered the Apache that the latter was upon the ledge, approaching the pines, and, altbough weak from the loss of blood, Jack sprung up the path, and in a moment was at the junction of the two ledges, thus cutting off the Indian, who must needs make a leap of fifty feet down upon the rocks to avoid him. He well knew that no matter how difficult and dangerous a position he got himself into, his friends could not fire a shot to save him, as that shot would be heard by the Apache war- party; and, if it did not endanger the lives of the captives, would at least put the Indians on their guard, and cause them to take measures to prevent being trailed, and thus it would be impossible to effect the rescue of their friends, ack drew his long bowie, and proceeded slow- ly around to the spur of the rock. One step more would betray his presence to the war- painted fiend, He peeped around the adamantine point, and saw that the Indian was now between the two pines, and gazing downward, with all the as- tonishment that an Indian ever shows, upon the scene at the grave. As he-stood thus, the “citz” mounted their horses, and spurred out beyond the screen of branches, followed by Tom Jones and Giant George; a sight that caused the Apache to leap aside to prevent being discovered. ( Missing Jack from their ranks, and seeing his horse still secured to a tree, Giant George and Tom halted. At this moment, Jack stepped around the spur of rock, and this movement drew the eyes of all upon him. They din wonder as their new- found pard threw his hat to the ledge at his feet, and taking off his belt and six-shooters, laid them upon the hat. George, the sheriff, and the “‘ citz,” all thought Jack had gone crazy, and was about to throw himself from the recky hight, but they dared not ery out to him, All watched intently this strange proceeding, the Indian being securely hidden from their view in the pine, and trembling with apprehen- sion as he saw the gaze of the whites directed toward his covert. # Jack replaced his belt, and drew it upa hole ! Sale SL, Giant George’s Fard. 15 tighter than usual; then he rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, which still more astonished the spectators, What their mney ie pard was about to do, they were at a loss to decide. However, they were not destined to be kept long in sus- pense, for the young man stepped lightly toward and past the first pine, taking his positicn with- in five feet of the same, then, with bowie-knife between his teeth, he grasped a large stone in either hand and hurled one after the otber with eat force into the pine where the Apache fara was crouched, It would be difficult to say whether the Indian or the “‘ citz” were the most amazed. The for- mer, however, realized at once that he was trapped, for he could not see the termination of the ledge from his position. Filled with mad frenzy, and determined to die with knife in hand, if die he must, he sprung out and confronted his oe, Half-bent, with knives clutched tightly in their hands, their muscles braced for the dead] conflict, white and red gazed into each ether’s eyes, the moonlight falling upon them. A deep groan came from the throat of every one who watched them from below. It was a dread, a terrible, and yet a grand tragical sight to look upon. All held their breath, for even a misstep on that rocky ledge must hurl a man down the canyon, a mangled corpse. Like two panthers, crouching and clawing the earth previous to engaging in combat, each measuring the strength, and studying the eye of the other, these men stood thus on the threshold of death; for, should one allow the other to clutch him, and a struggle ensue, both must fall to the rocks below. There was no safety for either, unless he kept the other from grappling with him; and Giant George and the citz” judged, from the character of his tribe, that the Apache intended to close in and burl himself and his opponent to death, for he must know that he was doomed in any event, even if he came off victor in the conflict that im- pended. There was only a moment’s pause, and then each stepped forward, Arizona Jack drawing himself erect, and lowering his knife to his side, leaving his breast exposed. _ This movement so surprised the Indian that it probably lessened his guard, and caused bim to be less on the alert. He instantly lunged forward, and it was not until the point of his long scalping-knife was within three inches of his enemy’s breast that the latter moved a muscle. Then, by a quick movement, his bowie shot sideways, piercin the wrist. of the Apacbe, whose knife drop with a clang on the rock as he sprung back. A low, but deep and meaning cheer arose from the overjoyed ‘‘ citz,” for the Indian was now plainly at the mercy of their pard, Ari- zona Jack. Straightening his sinewy form, and foldin, his arms, the Apache, gazing skyward, awaite his death-blow to all appearance unresistingly;. but those below knew that, with the advance of Jack, be would spring upon the latter, and bound off the ledge to his death, taking his hated white enemy with him. To the surpr'se and amazement of the “‘citz,” and to their n- ee ar en tes a tp np eer ee 5 meres ee meee 3
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=== 7,3 Giant George’s Pard. dignation as well, Jack coolly picked up the knife of the Indian, and threw it back at his feet. If the spectators were astonished, the Apache was doubtless more so, but he gave no evidence of it. Stooping down, he grasped his knife, and then, even before he arose to an erect osture, he made a desperate bound, thinking o take Jack unawares, Never was a red-man more mistaken; for, Jack, by a dexterous play of steel, severed the muscles of the grr arm, the instant after parrying his wild thrust, and then, with one terrible sweep of his bowie, gave his foe a mor- tal blow. A wild cheer of joy arose to Jack’s ears, fol- lowed by ejaculations of relief, of approbation, and astonishment, The Apache reeled this way and that, cling- ing with desperation to the rough portions of the rock; then, by a superhuman effort, he again arose to his feet, and opened his mouth for a signal whoop, but ere a sound could come from his lips, a huge stone, hurled by Arizona Jack, struck him full in the forehead, and he fell, with a death-yell sounding from his throat with horrible intonation, first to the ledge, then toppled over, clutching wildly, but without suc- cess, at the outer edge of the rugged rock, and down through the air he went flying, crashing through the pines, and striking and tearing the branches! The “ citz” heard the sickening sound, as the body struck the floor of the gulch; and riding into the motte, Giant George saw that the man- gled corpse of the murderous Apache lay di- rectly across the graves of Sam Lawrence and Terrif! Tom Jones no sooner saw the Indian fall from the ledge, than he sprung from his horse, and eo og the loose lariat to one of the ‘ citz,” eran around the motte, and up the mountain path, to meet and congratulate the champion, Arizona Jack. Giant George, after dragging the dead Apache out into the moonlight, stood, with the scalp in his hand, looking up toward the ledge. C) “itz,” after bestowing one glance upon the corpse, also directed their gaze at the same point; Arizona Jack being the object of atten- tion and interest with them all. To the surprise of the observers, the youn man was coolly tugging at a knot at the base o! one of the pines, endeavoring to secure part of one ee the lariats by which Terrif had been sus- ended. pe Wa-al,” cried out the burly scout, in the utmost astonishment; ‘‘ yer kin chaw me up an’ spit me out fer catfish bait, ef thet mew-borned scuut ain’t ther most unconsarned, cool, peart, brash, chuck-full-o’-sand steel-slinger I ever run ag’in’ since I struck dirt on this yere yearth! ‘6 hes done more by this ter bring me down ter 1 wine trailin’ biz, than I thort ary man in izone c’u’d do, I war ’bout crazy a-thinkin’ o' ther fix o’ ther Angel, an’ hit hed "bout sp’iled me fer biz. Now I’m ready ag’in ter take ad- vantage o’ chain lightnin’.” As the giant scout thus spoke, Jack, having secured the lariat, coiled the same, and replac- ing his six-shooter in his belt, returned his hat to mis head, and greeting Tom Jones, who at that moment joined him, both came down among the assembled ‘‘ citz." * Arizone Jack,” spoke up Giant George; “oin us yer paw! An’ I'll sw’ar I’m dog-goned glad an’ proud ter shake hit, fer yer ez white an’ brave a man ez 1 wants ter pard with; an’ ter prove hit, hyer’s the sculp o’ thet con- demned red cuss, which I hes tuck off fer yer myself, an’ thet air perrarer proof of ther greatest frien’sbip. I don’t know another man in Arizone, thet ’'d do more fer. Tom Jones, jist ’zamine thet scarifyer’s paws, an’ tell me ef yer knows who he air. ’Pears ter me he air familiar like.” Tom did as directed, and all saw that the hands of the Indian were hard and calloused, certain parts of the flesh between the fingers being hard and smooth as ivory. * Ow dn’t say, pard,” said Tom, ‘‘ who he air, by ther paws, though by ther mark over ther best biz’ness part o’ his ’natermy, I sh’u’d say his cog’ war Quarter-Moon,” ‘Feller pards,” exclaimed the giant scout, “hit’s El Ropa, ther bestest lariat braider in ther ’Pache nation; an’ he tied ther ropes *roun’ poor Terrif. Jack hev donea heap this night fer Arizone, since he tuck ther war-path, an’ jist fer a beginnin’, An’ more’n thet, he kin sling a knife like a circus man, dang’d ef he can’t!” 3 CHAPTER IX. ON THE TRAIL, Arizona Jack took the scalp of El Ropa gingerly, and advancing to the motte, hung it on a limb, saying: “Greatly obliged to you, Pard George; but I don’t care to pack the infernal thing. Tl! bang it here to dry, and perhaps if I retain my own scalp, and return this way, I’ll send it to Bill Cody, to hang beside the hair of Yellow Hand the Sioux, whose head Bill skinned with such satisfaction, when he thought of the gallant Custer, “How kim yer ter freeze yer peepers onter ther cuss,” asked Giant George; ‘an’ bout how war he actin’?” “He came around the spur by a narrow ledge, which meets and joins the one upon which we had our pic-nic,” was the answer; “and he came very cautiously. It was lucky that all were hidden by the pines, or he would have seen some of us without being himself ob- served; and then he would have been all up with the captives, and perhaps with ourselves too.” ‘‘ Took a-hyer,” broke in Tom Jones; ‘‘ Jack, I’m daneg’d ef I b’lieve yer ever war a tender- foot. Yer war borned brash. What’s yer ruminatin’ bout, George!” “T war rollin’ over in my brain-box what pard Jack hes spit out ’bout thet red. Ther cuss come from ther gap an’ hit looks es though ther perrarer pirates hed tuck ter ther rocks o’ ther range ther way El Roper acted. Ef ther sun would come we'd be O, K. I dar- sen’t think o’ ther ‘Angel,’ er I'd go plum hyderfobic. Yer see, boyees, Mrs, Reynolds, thet’s her affidavy cog’, she w’u’dn’t ‘low me ter let yer know she war in ther hearse; *cos why? She wanted ter gi’n a surprise party ter ther hull burg, ter-morrer, in ther canyon, an’ so—”.
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Giant George’s Pard. “ Hark!” The interruption came from Arizona Jack, who seemed ever on the alert, and who now drew his revolvers, and urged his horse to- ward the chasm that led into the basin. Halt- ing within twenty paces of one side of the dark outlet of Dead Man's Gulch, Jack sat his horse, with both ‘ sixes” presented. All were now listening most iutently, and now and then they could hear the click of a hoof against a stone. Not long had they thus to wait; for, out from the darkness broke the head of Don Diablo, who halted a moment, gazed around in bis usual free- and-easy manner, passed among the “ citz,” and directly up to bis master. All were not a little surprised, for the burro was ele mien to be either loafing among the cacti about Sardine-box City, being deemed useless plunder by the Apaches, or with the war-party. Witha cry of joy, Giant George hastily dismounted, and ran up to welcome his grotesque pet, who received it all in his most matter-of-fact, indifferent manner. The eyes of Arizona Jack were tixed from the first upon the strange brute, about which so much had been told him, when suddenly he noticed around one of the animal’s fore-legs a band of buckskin, Springing from his horse, Jack slipped out his _knife and cut the band loose, taking from be- neath the same a neatly-folded note, ‘“*“Wa-al, dang my cats!” said Giant George. ‘‘Jack air a-beatin’ us ole hands every time. Don Diablo bes turned hisself over ter ther Pony Express. Whoop! Boyees,” here the scout fairly leaped into the air, “‘ ef we’uns hesn’t gut a William-dux from ther Angel! I “ee bit; I knows hit; I'll take my affidavy on hit Here he closed with Tom Jones, lifted the latter upon his shoulder, and ran around the basin, to the great amusement of all the ‘‘citz,” bio now dismounted and circled about Arizona ack, At the request of Giant George, who now re- turned, after having set Tom Jones astride of Don Diablo, a little attention which the latter did not deign to notice, the note was now opened by Arizona Jack, and read aloud; ‘** Camp or Ex Orso, THE CHIEF OF THE APACHES, “My Dear Frienp Grant GrorGE:— “We were surprised at_the coach, where you so imprudently left us, and Hank, Mrs. Holbrook, Don Diablo and myself made captives; although I laid out a plan before the Indians saw me, and sprung from the coach, ordering the chief to get me a horse, bidding him proceed to the west, and proclaiming myself as Santissima Blanco, sent by ! Dios Grande to teach the Apaches ‘ big medicine.’ I formed this oo in an instant, as the only way by which I could ope to save my life and the lives of the Holbrooks. Ihave so far succeeded admirably. The inhuman fiends captured Terrif in Dead Man’s Gulch, and I fear tortured him. I was forced either to return to the canyon, or to shake the faith of the Indians in my assumed character, They were insane witb fury, in regard to the killing of Red Hand, and demanded a victim. Had not poor Terrif been fallen in with, I am confident the Holbrooks would both have been tortured. Still, I hope he has escaped; but I fear not. “T sholl send our faithful Don Diablo on the back trail with this, when Iam not noticed, and I do hope and pray that it may fall into your hands. Do noth- ing rash, I implore you, for if you charge the camp we shall all be butchered. There are some who, I believe. suspect that I am_not what I pre- tend; and they would shoot me in case of attack. Hank is in a state of lunacy, from drink and fear combined, and poor Mrs. Holbrook is not much better. She does not know me, and seems to regard me much as the Indians do. It helps me, although I long, ever so much, to speak to the poor soul and comfort her, “We travel west and encamp in the foot-hills. This much I have learned from El Orso, who so far has treated me with respect. Iam my own mis- tress, and have free control of my actions. I may get a chance to dose the braves. or a part of them, with some powerful drugs, which luckily I have with me. ‘““We may never meet again, my kind friend, but if not, that God may bless Giant George and the citizens of Sardine-box City. shall be the lest prayer of Lena Reyno. ps, nee LAWRENC::.” ** Whoop me up!” exclaimed the giant scout, as Jack folded the note, and passed it to “him, he carefully placing it in his bullet-pouch. ‘*Whoop me up! Kick me good! ’Low me ter lay down, and all on yer gallopoverme. Hitch a lariat ’roun’ each o’ my big toes, and drag me through Dead Man’s Gulch, clean ter ther can- yon! Somebody thet’s hefty sot on my head, fer hit’s a-bu’stin’. Ther mersheenery in ther best part o’ my pate air runnin’ et stampede speed, an’ bout ter crack my ribs! Dang my great-grandmother’s bestest cat’s littlest kit- tens, ef ther ‘ Angel’ ain’t pulled wool over Eh Orso, ther dang’dest ha’r-clawer north o’ ther Bravo! Boyees, we hes gut a dead sure thing, ef we plays our p’ints fine, er I’m a bug-eatin’ Piute; dog-goned ef we hain’t!” As Giant George ceased speaking, he looked around for Arizona Jack, and seeing him riding around the motte, be hailed him. “Well, Pard George, what can I do for the common good?” asked Jack, as he came up, “Hes yer gut ary a pencil an’ paper along o’ yer?” “Yes, old man; I have both in my saddle- bags.” “4 will yer writ a few words ter ther ‘‘ An- e] **Certainly I will; but who will take the note to her?” ‘““Why, Don Diable, in co’rse! Who else?” “Will that animal go back to the Apache camp?” “T'm a-bettin’ my horse ag’in’ a cotton-tailed rabbit that he glides straight es a line kack ter ther ‘ Angel.’” “Tf he does, he is worth his weight in gold,” “Thet’s whar ye’r’ sizin’ him down ter ’bout his half-vally. e hes panned out more’n bis weight in dust, in good, honest sarvice, an’ in savin’ white bleed. Thet air, he hes saved, er he’s been the means o’ savin’ ther life o’ his pard—thet’s me—an’ ther ‘ Ang’l.’? I would ’a’ been sent ter kingdom come on the whiz, an’ ther ‘ Ang’? would ’a’ bin in ther power 0’ El] Capitan, ther chief o? ther Panthers, ef Don Diablo hedn’t’a’ chipped in ther game, an’ made all ther p'ints yer c’u’d git outen ther keards, But jist you sling a few words ter let ther ‘Angel’? know we air a-comin’ on; workin’ our way kinder sly, to save ’em,”
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Giant George’s Pard. Arizona Jack quickly complied, as well as he could by moonlight, and the note was secured to Don Diablo’s leg in the same manner as the other had been, This was done by Giant George, who talked to the burro during the time he was binding the buckskin, as if the little brute understood it all. “ Now, Don, ole boyee,” he said, ‘I wants yer ter show yer raisin’. Yer knows dog-goned well thet ther ’Paches don’t keer a continental fer yer sculp, fer they sees yer hesn’t put much ha’r on yer _kerbase—’cos why? Yer allusrun ter ears. No matter how much mesquite grass yer sp’iles, hit doesn’t put a ounce o’ meat on yer ribs till yer ears gits plump an’ shiny. But, never yer mind, Don; ef we gits ther ‘ Ang’l’ outen this scrape, we'll be hunk, an’ I promise yer long feed, an’ plenty o’ time ter chaw hit. The burro projected one hind leg out slowly until it was as straight as a gun barrel, to stretch his muscles; he then elevated his head until his nose pointed to the moon, and was on a level with his neck, his ears lying flat on either side. At the sams time he curled his lip, displaying his teeth, and snuffing the air. Ten he dropped his head suddenly, and shook it from side to side, with an expression of seoming disgust, “Sse hyer, Don,” added the giant -scont, ‘ver needn’t ter act thet-away, fer I sw’ar I’m talkin’ solid hoss sense, an’ means every word I spit out. I know yer hes bin madder’n a hatter ever since I tuck yer ter civilize, whar yer e'wdn’t git a smell o’ bracky water, er stick yer nose full o’ prickly pear thorns; but I'll naver do hit agin, Isw’ar Dll never buckle yer inter another stage boot. I war ez sick when I war in civiliza myself es a hen with ther pip; an’ w2 wou’dn’t a-gone, only fer ter please ther ‘ Ang’l,’ an’ now she’s bin tuck by ther ’Paches, all outen thet jim-jamboree biz. We'll lock her up when we gits on another racket. But we hes gut ter git her fu’st afore we kin do thet; an’ yer hes gut ter play another keard in ther game. Thar,” rising to his feet, ‘‘ I’ve fixed ther Wil- liam-dux so hit’ll glide through, pervidin’ yer go with hit. Boyees, ther Uncle Samuel’s mail air ’bout ter skute up ther range. Come an’ say ‘ by-by’ ter Don Diablo,” The “ citz,” who had dismounted, and were standing near, watching the strange pair, all patted the burro on the head; buf the beast seemed to have sunk into a half sleep, standing listlessly, with lowered head and drooping ears, All wondered what next, “The burro won’t go a peg toward the Apache camp,” asserted Arizona Jack. ‘He likes to hear you talk too well to leave you, Pard George.” ‘Don’t yer go more’n half yer pile on thet, Jack, I’vises yer. Hyer, Don, thar’s a heap o’ biz ale vd.” A3 he said this, the giant scout stooped, and put his mouth to the burro’s ear. He then said: “Skute, slide, glide, levant; git up an’ git; peramberlate back ter ther ‘ Ang’l’ es quick es yer little huffs_kip tote yer without gittin’ too flustercated. Whoop ber up, Don Diablo! an’ we'll foller, quick meter, an’ clean out El Orso’s scarifiers |!” No sooner had Giant George gotten off an- other ‘‘ Whoop her up!” with a stronger em- phasis than the preceding, than the burro started briskly off, although his head kept shaking, as if loth to go, and the next moment he had disappeared in the gloom of Dead Man’s Gulch, ‘* Well, that beats everything I ever saw in my life,” admitted Arizona Jack, in pure aston- ishment. ‘The poor brute is beat out now, and hasn’t had a single chance to feed since its ride in that coach.” ‘* An’ thar warn’t much grass growin’ on top o’ ther ‘hearse’ either,” put in Tom Jones. “But mebbe so he’s chawed off Hank’s coat collar. Why, Jack, let me tell yer, Don Diablo kin live on futur' prospec’ fer a week, Stan’ him on a rock, five miles from grass, an’ he'll git along fu’st rate by jist takin’ a squint in ther direction of hit ’bout onc’t an hour, an’ jist smellin’ o’ ther air from ther perrarer ’bout one’t in two hours.” ‘Jump yer critters, boyees, an’ let’s glide to- ward ther perrarers,” ordered Giant George. “* Come, Jack an’ Tom, we mought es well move on, though we can’t ’spect ter do much good ontil we gits a show at’em when they camp. Ef we knowed jist whar ther cusses war lo- cated, we’d stand a show ter skute in on’em afore mornin’; but hit’s dangerous ter ther cap- tives fer us ter shake ourselves roun’ too much, Howsomever, we can’t do nothin’ hyer, an’ 1 allus hes ther blues when I’m in Dead Man’s Gulch, fer I tuck keer o’ Sam Lawrence, ther ‘ Ang’l’s’ brother, ontil he went over ther range. An’ now hit’s a heap wuss since ther boy Terrif wor called in sich a onhuman way.” “Hold! For the love of God, hold! What is that, or who is that, on that dark line at the en- trance of the gulch?” Thus called out Arizona Jack, in a voice in which amazement was mingled with horror. CHAPTER X. AT DEAD MAN’S GULCH, FIntep with terror and anguish, Lena Rey- nolds watched poor Terrif in the midst of the yelling, dancing horde of savages. She dared not interfere with the fiends, for they might turn and rend her, torture the Holbrooks, or do anything in their fury. She felt that the boy was doomed, that no earthly power could save that true and honest heart; but she was given an avenue of escape from witnessing the horrible scene further, by the chief, El Orso, who now rode up to her, saying: ‘*Santissima Blanco will ride back to the canyon. She is big medicine. She must not come where the Bad Spirit lives. The Bad Spirit is here, and he is stronger than the Good Spirit. El Orso has spoken.” Back she strode into the darkness of the gulch, and then down toward the canyon. Upon reaching the latter, which at this point was quite wide, and lighted up by the moon, she was surprised to find herself alone, none of the Indians having attended her. If she wish she could now ride at headlong speed towar Sardine-box City and escape; but she could not * See ee | Sen te! OLS Set eee tt
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ee any ate Giant George’s Pard. 19 OO desert the friends, now so helpless, when it was still possible for her to aid in saving their lives. Alone though she was, she felt confident that El Orso was only trying her; that he had a spy or spies watching her every movement, and she knew that by making no attempt to escape, but remaining thus unguarded, her power would be greatly increased. Suddenly a piercing cry of anguish shot through the air from Dead Man’s Gulch, and she stopped her ears, for well she knew whence it proceeded. ‘oor Terrif had been out on the mountain, on one of his solitary rides, and was whistling merrily as he came through the gap. The character of the young vaquero can be summed up in five brief words—he was happy when alone. Quickly he had dismounted, and ran into the motte, where he stood meditating by the grave of Sam Lawrence, a spot which he never passed without pausing, The Apaches, coming silently into the basin caught sight of the saddled horse standing in the margin of the pines, and soon they were upon their unsuspecting victim, wko was soon dis- armed and dragged out into the moonlit space, struggling manfully. Terrif was strong, and hada frame of iron, but in such an unequal contest he was soon van- ished. The scene that followed would send a chill of horror to the stoutest heart, even in de- scription, At an order from El] Orso, a brave sprung to the debris at the foot of the basin, where grew in profusion the gorgeous Spanish dagger lant. Quickly the Apache cut numbers of the sharp lance-like leaves, wherewith to add to the tor- ture, and hastening back the fiendish dance be- gan. The dance was kept up, but the brave victim remained silent amid all his agonies until at length El Orso sprung from the demoniac circle, and whirling his knife around the shapel. head with its crown of clustering curls, tore o! the reeking scalp from the living victim, Then, and not till then, broke one long-drawn cry of hopeless apy and terrible despair from the lips of the brave youth. ; This was followed by his being suspended in the manner in which he was discovered by Giant George and his party. Thus they left him, with a farewell exultant whoop, as vaulting upon their half-wild steeds, they cast their snake-like eyes ve the mountain- side, gloatingly, and then dashed into the dark- ness of Dead Man’s Gulch. Lena Reynolds sat near the thicket, bowed down with grief and anguish indescribable, and incomprehensible to any one except herself. That one agonizing shriek of the tortured youth had pierced her already grief-stricken soul, and placed her on a rack of torture. She had arrived at a correct conclusion in re- gard to the probable espionage which El Orso woud set upon her; for, at the point where the gulch and canyon met, amid the hill-mesquites, and upon the very brink of the steep, lay at full length an Apache brave, his glittering orbs patted down upon her like the orbs of a hideous asilisk, But the snake-like eyes, keen as they were, saw not the supple, willowy form that wound its serpentine course along beneath the mesquites and down the land-slide toward the point where Lena Keynolds sat. The form was that of a woman—a woman with a wild, insane look in her black, piercing eyes, that spoke of anguish and agony long endured, as did also the high cheek-bones, almost devoid of flesh, the sharp chin, and the bony arms. Her complexion bad been white and fair, but was now sunburnt and fearfully scratched, and her hair, black as night, was wild and tangled, hanging below her waist, und with burrs and thorns entangled in its meshes, That she was a Mexican-born Castilian was very evident; the most casual observer, if ac- quainted with the bearing and appearance of the women of Montezuma Land, would recog- nize the fact at a glance, and also that she be- longed to the higher class of dames. ot only did the intelligent look in her eyes, wild though they were, betray her true condi- tion, but her apparel, although torn almost to sbreds and much soiled, was of the finest silk. while in her red sash was thrust a gold handled stiletto aud a pair of Spanish dueling pistols of the finest workmanship. Her shoes had been long since worn out, and pieces of buckskin were clumsily bound about her small and aris- tocratic feet, with their high-arched insteps. Cautiously she crawled until within a few feet of Lena Reynolds; then she spoke, in the figur- ative language of her people on the frontiers of Mexico: “Senora, with the face of snow, sit still and hear me. Turn not your head toward me, for ae hag of an Apache watch you from the ch. on {am Warnitta, the Wild; that is what they have called meat Tucson ever since El Orso stole my sl a own, my beautiful Marietta! The prairies and the mountains have known my footsteps where I have wandered in search of my child, and of vengeance. My Marietta sits weeping in the lodge of an Apache, but one hour's ride up the range. *«The squaws come there from down the Gila. They await their chief, and he, El Orso, now tortures a white man by the side of the moun- tain. Warnitta will kill him, and recover her child; but she wants help. Why does not the snow-faced senora fly to her friends? Her horse is fleet, and the canyon is smooth. War- nitta has eaten no food for two days, for she is on El Orso’s trail, and he might escape her. When the owl hoots at night, Warnitta’s eyes are open. When the sun comes, and when the sun goes, she is on the trail of El Orso. re fis red cheek shall pale, when the stiletto of Warnitta flashes in his eyes. Warnitta has seen that the snow-faced senora rides with no bonds. Why is it so?” Lena was so dazed by anguish and grief, that even the voice breaking upon her ears, so strongly intonated, and at a-time and place so unexpected, did not cause her to turn her head: although she would probably have done: so, had not the words of her visitor warned her of the Apache spy. ‘¢ Snow Face, as you call me, has told the
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— os, wane am ney Giant George’s Pard. sent by Zl Dios Grande to teach big medicine to his people. They believe me, and I will aid you in regaining your daughter, if Ican, Two of my friends are captives to El Orso, and I sta in order that I may save them if possible. It is a friend of mine who is now being tortured, but I cannot save him without sacrificing myself and the two who are now in the gulch, and under guard, WillSenora Warnitta follow the canyon, or will she hide here until my friends from the town below march to rescue us, and then guide them to the Apache village?” “ Warnictta will wait. Sbe will guide the friends of Snow Face when they come. But she must sleep now. When the owl’s noon-time eomes, Warnitta is wild. Her head grows hot, and the spirits call to ber from the sky. She is wild then, because the wrongs of her child tor- ture her brain. Snow Face will see my Ma- rietta. She will kiss her, and Warnitta will kiss the ground that Snow Face treads, Hark, El Orso, the thief, El Orso, who stole my child, my beauty, my Marietta—comes, I hear him. Holy Mary! Stay my hand until my stiletto is sure of his heart. Adios, Snow Face, Hl Dios Grande protect you!” With these words the strange wild-lookiag being crawled away from Lena Reynolds, fur- ther back among the thick mesquites, A moment more, and El Orso and his braves galloped up with exultant yells, and blood- stained hands and knives, out from the black mouth of Dead Man’s Gulch. CHAPTER XI, A STRANGE DUEL, Tux eyes of all were turned quickly as Ari- zona Jack spoke, toward the dark opening of the gulch, at the entrance to the basin. There, half in light, half in darkness, was a wild, fierce-looking mustang, its head elevated, its eyes glaring like two coals of fire, its ears laid back viciously upon the abundance of tangled, wide flowing mane, its nostrils dis- tended—in fact, in a position of sudden alarm, seeming undecided whether to advance, and tear, with its fully displayed teeth, those that barred its way, or to whirl back and bound into the darkness of the gulch. That this latter movement depended not upon itself alone was, however, plain to be seen; for, upon the back of the mustang, sitting astride, was Warnitta the Wild, as the Tucson people had named her, from the fact that the loss of her child, while visiting at a distant rancho, had caused her torun wildin the streets for days, and at. last to suddenly disappear from her now desolate home. . It was now midnight; the hour at. which, as she had informed Lena Reynolds, she was really wild. It would be difficult to conceive of a more close resemblance between a woman and a horse than was now presented to the eyes of the observers. The wild, flowing, tangled mane of the animal corresponded with the long hair of his rider, which was in much the same sadly un’empt condition, The fiery eyes of the horse, the poise of the i eemealm Apache Chief that she is Santissima Blanco, head, the vicious curl of the lip away from the set teeth, the defiance blended with hesitation, and an inclination to plunge back into the dark gorge, were present in both mustang and rider. But a moment, however, did this strange, un- canny pair remain stationary; for, with a piercing cry of blended exultation and satisfac- tion, with the intonation of which the unmis- takable signs of insanity could be detected. Warnitta whirled her quirt in the air and brought it down hissing about the hams of the mustang. With aloud snort, the startled ani- mal sprung forward, throwing its head down to the earth, until its nose almost touched its fast flying fore-hoofs, and shaking it vigorously and viciously, in spite of the tight jaw strap held by the woman, who bent her whole weight upon it, at the same time leaning backward until the tangled masses of her midnight hair mingled with the bushy tail of her steed—the one scarce distinguishable from the other. Amazement the most profound ruled all, in- cluding even Giant Goorge, and not a word broke from their lips as this mad horse with its equally mad rider, galloped into their midst, and halted just in front of the burly scout, ‘“‘Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the woman, wildly. “Warnitta the Wild has you now! She has you all corraled in the gulch, Why do the friends of Snow Face sit their mustangs and gaze at the moon, when blood is in her trail? Does the shepherd hide in his hut when wolves are carrying away his sheep? Where is the white-skinned youth that El Orso hung on the rocks? Have the buzzards picked his bones so soon, and the wolves gnawed the lariats loose? Madre de Dios !”—stopping her ears with her fingers—‘‘ his shriek cut my brain like a knife, and I crawled like a snake through the bushes to tell the Snow Face. Hark! Hear the owls hoot! They mock me, for they know 1 am mad, Woe to El Orso, did I meet him now! Were there a thousand braves at his back, I’d claw his heart out and throw it to the wolves! Do you hear me? Yes, to the wolves! For he stole my child, my beautiful Marietta, whom the Virgin smiled upon. ‘* Over prairies and mountains, through can- yon and gulch, I have been on his track, and now both my child and my revenge are within my grasp. Death-yells must scare the owls to- night, before the sun comes, Do you hear? To-night! Warnitta will lead you to the Apache village. When they sleep we will steal our friends; and then, blood; blood !” As the poor, crazed being uttered the last word she reeled in her saddle, and would have fallen to the rocky bed of the gulch, but for Arizona Jack, who sprung from his horse and caught her ‘just as Giant George grasped the jaw-strap of her mustang and held him fast. ** Boys!” exclaimed Jack, ‘‘ the poor creature is starving. I saw that as soon as she rode up. Pass me a canteen of water, and then shake out some grub for her.” “Dog-gone my bestest bizness merchine!” said George. ‘‘I neyer war quite so sot back afore. She air ther dang est, skeeriest piece 0” caliker I ever run ag’in’; but Pm a-takin’ my anda that she’s talkin’ straight an’ squar’, clean through, Fotch her ’roun’ ter biz, Jack,
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ee Le Giant George’s Pard. 21 an’ we'll fodder her up, an’ then skute. | Ef she fall’d in love with her from ther opin’ yer hes ain’t a boss scout, l’ll swaller a turkey-buzzard | panned out from seein’ her mother!” on ther wing.” “You think what she says can be depended on?” said Jack, “Dm a-bettin? on bit. They hes bin on a len’thy ole trail, an’ es this hyer female woman says, when they strikes ther squaws what's come down ter meet em, they’ll shove ’em on duty es guards, an’ ther bucks’ll take a double- barrel’d snooze, Thet’ll give us a show ter glide in. Ef ther cusses stole this hyer woman’s leetle gal, why we-uns ‘ll stan’ by her till the last gun’s fired. She’s bin through Tophet with ther brimstone counted in, yer kin all see. Thar’s a heap o’ misery shoved inter Arizone, an’ hit ain’t all located in Sardine-box City, though I used ter s’pose so.” “Tom Jones, don’t stan’ thar a-gapin’, but shove out some grub. Warnitta shill hey ther bestest we hes gut.” The poor, half-demented woman opened her glassy eyes, that still glowed with insane Jight, and looked upon the rough but sympathetic faces around her for a moment. Then she shook off the supporting arm of Arizona Jack, and sat upright. Tom Jones passed her a zan- teen of water, of which she drank a long draught, and then, as food was given her, she tore and devoured it like a famished wolf, swal- lowing it without mastication. At last ber hunger was satisfied, ani she arose to her feet, apparently much refreshed, and swinging her long, bony arms about her head, she cried out: “Come! Marietta is in El Orso’s camp. Snow Face is in El Orso’s camp. The little man and woman are in El Orso’s camp. We must steal them away and hide them in the bushes, Then I will play with the scalp and heart of the Apache chief.” x With these words, the strange being mounted her wild mustang, which tore around the basin witb the speed of the wind before she could sub- due and control its movements. Then shedart- ed, with a Latha ery, into the gloom and blackness of Dead Man’s Gulch. “By ther t’arin’ terrantaler o’ Taos!” cried out the giant scout; ‘‘ef she goes hit thet way, she won’t be wo’th shucks on ther trail, an’ ther ’Paches ‘ll know we air a-comin’ fore we gits within five mile o’ the camp! She’s a reg’Jar ‘panther cat, an’ her boss fits her ter a dot, dang’d ef be don’t. Wonder if ther *Paches stole hit’s colt, an’ hit’s run wild on ’count 0’ hit, Ef El Orso runs ag’in’ her, he’ll think he’s struck a hurrar’s nest, er I air a liar!” *She’s got more sense than you give her credit for,” asserted Jack, as they passed along the bed of the dark gulch. ‘‘She knows the exact position of the camp, and you will see she will be as shy as a fox when there is need of it, or I’m greatly mistaken. Id risk a great deal on her ‘say so,’ wild as she is; and Marietta has got to come out of that camp to-night, or Tl crawl into a coyote hole, and say, ‘ NowI lay me down to sleep,’ and then give my last farewell kick,” ‘*Ha! ha! ha!” roared the scout. ‘‘ Hit pears ter me yer is gittin’ soft on ther leetle gal afore yer hes see’d her, Hit can’t be thet yer hes “Tm a long way from being in love with anybody, Pard George,” said the young man, briskly, ‘‘ but 1 have a heap of sympathy for any oue that is in the power of those red devils. Do you think the ‘ Angel’ safe, that you are in such excellent spirits all at once?” “Ya-as,” was the decided reply, ‘Ef she hes bamboozled ’em from the start, es she writ, an’ es Warnitta says, you kin bet ther red cusses thinks she air from t’other world, an’ they wouldn’t burt her for fear o’ famine, an’ plague, an’ pesterlence, an’ ther Lord knows what, fallin’ on tha’r tribe,” ‘‘And how about the others—Holbroock and his wife?” ‘““ Bf Hank hes gut ther jim-jams, an’ ther ole ’ocman hes gove plum crazy, they air es safe with ther ’Paches es they would be in ther Nugget; an’ a heap safer, fur es Hank air con- sarned, fer be can’t pour down’ison while El] Orso hes him.” The entire party now entered the wide, moon- lit can) on, where they were scon brought to a hait by a most thrilling scene, Warnitta, the Wild, sat her steed just above the Jand-slide, where the canyon made an ab- rupt bend; and in this bend, between it and the slide, was a mounted Apache brave, who had evidently been sent back to ascertain what bad ota of El Ropa, and if enemies were on the trail. “Ef ther wild ’coman ain't gut a ’Pache kerral’d, I hopes ter be nibbled ter death by dipper ducks!’ Such was the exclamation of Giant George while they all sat motionless on their borses during the brief but terrible scene tbat followed; for it was of course impossible to render any as- sistance to Warnitta, ber movements being so rapid that a conflict between ber and the Indian could not be prevented. The Apache sat his borse as if appalled at the sight of the strange being who confronted him; but, as she drew ber knife with a taunting yell, and flourished the glittering steel in circles about her head, he realized that she was not only human, but that he must fight for his life, his gaze being so steadily fastened upon her that be saw none of the party below. Then came a grand but terrible sight! The mustang of Warnitta seemed to become doubly frenzied, as he was urged forward by his crazed mistress; and opening bis mouth, and with out- stretched neck, he rushed at terrific speed upon the Apache. Then, as he came within striking distance, he closed bis teeth about the neck- muscles of the Indian’s pony, and throwing out his fore-hoofs quick as flasbes of light, broke the legs of the animal as though they had been pipe- stems. The mustang of the brave went doy with a shriek that was almost human; and War- nitta, springing to.a standing m her saddie, placed her left foot between tbe ears of ber maddened steed, and bounded, with blazing eyes and uplifted knife directly upon the Apache warrior, who, filled with terror though be was, | closed with his strange antegonist, insane despe ration nerving his arm, The next instant both were rolling over and pee
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over on the rocky bed of the basin in a most terrible death-struggle, the blood spurting up through the moonlight, and plainly seen by the startled observers, who knew not from whom the sanguine current proceeded, or how it was toend. A rolling mass of rags, feathers, hair and flesh, the white bars of gypsum on the warrior’s face and breast being now and then discernible; and then it ceased, as Warnitta, the Wild, sat up- right across the prostrate body of her foe, while up in the bright moonlight arose the blood- stained knife, and then down, again and again, through flesh and bone and spurting blood, while not ten paces away, up and down reared her mad mustang, throwing his hoofs through the air upon the Apacne pony, which lay, gasp- ing out its life, with glazing and appealing eyes, as the pitiless hoofs of its frenzied antagonist crashed through its ribs, CHAPTER XII. TO THE RESCUE, AS El Orso and his braves, fresh from the torture of poor Terrif, galloped from the gulch into the basin, Lena Reynolds sat in the same position that we have described, on the bordes of the mesquites, and Warnitta crawled away into the bushes, There she sat in the moonlight, and the spy who had been set to watch her stole down into the canyon and reported to his chief that she had not once changed her position since she bad been in the canyon, although the way of escape was open, “Waugh!” burst from El Orso. ‘ Santissima Blanco big medicine—heap, Her face is white as the frozen rain that falls on the top of Sierra Madre, but she goes not to her people down the canyon. Shestays with the Apaches, when the trail is open for her to go, She is from Hl Dios Grande, and knows all things. She had never seen El Orso, but she knew him and called his name. Itisenough, She is big medicine. My braves must not hold their knives in her face, She can come and go like tho deer of the moun- tains. El Orso has spoken, and his words are not like the song ofa bird. Come! Oursquaws have not looked in our eyes for two muons, and their eyes are weary. Vamonos!” Up the canyon went the main portion of the war-party like the rush of a tornado, then black eyes flashing as they thought of the tortures they bad inflicted upon a hated white man, their hands now stained with his blood, In the rear went a dozen braves, acting as guard over Hank and Marm Holbrook, the former stupid with drink, the latter paralyzed with fright, both securely bound to mustangs. while ambling in the rear of all, having seem- ingly been abandoned as useless, was Don Dia- @lo, his head drooping downward, his eyes half- closed, his long ears flopping up and down in unison with his step. But no sooner did the burro observe Lona Reynolds than he walked up to within two feet of her, and laid his nose against her shoulder, ** Poor old Don!” exclaimed Lena, with deep fecling. ‘‘We are fated, it seems, to be to- oneal in strange and bloody scenes. The red ends have cast you loose, and I will take ad- Giant George’s Pard. vantage of it. You may again be the instru- ment of saving human life. At all events, it is one more hope,” Quickly drawing paper and pencil from the little sachel at her belt, she wrote hastily, fold- ed the note, and bound it to a fore-leg of the burro; then, patting the beast on the head, she turned it toward the canyon, and said: ‘Go, Don Diablo! Go to Giant George!” Stupid though the brute appeared to be, he started off on the instant, ambling down the canyoa; but, detecting the approach of the ‘*citz,” he went into a thicket, where sleep for a time overcame him, but the message, as we have seen, was, notwithstanding this, delivered in good time. s soon as Lena had started Don Diablo down the canyon, she mounted her horse and galloped west, soon oS ee the guard with the prisoners, who looked one at the other in amazement, as she rode up, her pale face turned toward the moon, while a low, musical chant fell from her lips, impressive, as she meant it to be, to her hearers, After a ride of half an hour, through winding canyon, gulch and wash-out, the village wag reached, A score of miserable lodges of buffalo-hide, stood in a crescent curve amid the foot-hills; a dense cedar brake being behind them, and a clear, smooth, grass-grown opening in front which stretched for more than a rifle- shot to another brake of cedars, Over this open space were staked two-score or more of hardy mustangs, which had been em- ployed in drawing the cooking utensils and food from the permanent village. The pappooses had been left behind, in care of the old hags, and none but young middle-aged squaws were within the encampment. These were al] armed with bows, arrows, and knives, and as ready to fight as their lords, El Orso and his warriors rode around one of the foot-hills at full gallop, and making the air resound with their exultant whoops, while the squaws flocked into the middle of the crescent to receive and welcome them. Then came the enumeration of those who had been killed, which was followed by terrific howls, from the friends of the slain, The squaw of Red Hand, in particular, was furious; and, as El Orso threw her the scalp of poor Terrif, she tere it savagely with her teeth, spat upon it, and rolled upon the sward in a passion of rage and grief. The words of the Apache chief seemed to quiet her but little. “The spirits of Red Hand’s fathers have whispered in his ear. They have <alled bim where grass is ever green. and rivers never run dry. Were game is on every hill, and horses are fleet as the wind. Red Hand knows that he has been avenged. He knows that the scalp of a white foe has been taken to his squaw. He knows thaf his death-song will be chanted by many braves. It is well.” Thus spoke El Orso, and then Red Hand’s squaw rushed off wildly, and still with frantic howls, to her lodge. One lodge was much larger than the others, and to this the Apache chief repaired. A squaw stood guarding the entrance. “It is well,” hesaid. ‘' El Orso knows that the squaw of Santa Rita is here, His heart is
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Giant George’s Pard. 23 glad. Her cheek is like the sky when the sun sinks into the prairie at night. Her hands are white as the frozen rain that falls in the hunt- ing-grounds of the Sioux. El Orso has spoken. He will talk now to the Rose of Santa Rita.” The squaw said not a word, but her eyes blazed with jealous fury as the chief passed within the lodge. A pine-knot was stuck in the earth, and by its light El Orso could see a young and beauti- ful girl who lay fast asleep upon a couch of buffalo-robes. Her cheeks were pale, and traces of tears were plainly to be seen, She could not have been more than fifteen, but was fully de- veloped, and her long hair was black aad glossy asarayven’s wing. Awith a guttural grunt of vexation, the Apache chief left the lodge, mere- ly saying to the squaw at the entrance: “Rose of Santa Rita sleeps. El Orso will come again. As the chief came out, the encampment rung with exultant whoops, for the captives had now been brought into the village; but as Lena Reynolds galloped into view, with her pale face and midnight garb, all became at once hushed as death. She rode directly to the chief’s lodge, dis- mounted, and waJked directly past the squaw who guarded the entrance, the latter hurriedly darting to one side in superstitious awe. Lena had cast glances here and there, as she rode into the village, and observing the large lodge, in front of which a squaw seemed to be posted as guard, she at once decided that some captive was inside, in all probability Marietta the child of the haif-demented woman who had crawled amid the ee to speak with her, As Lena entered the lodge, she knew that the same Marietta, spoken of by her strange visitor in the canyon, was before her, and her heart at once went out to the beautiful sleeper, resolving to protect and save her, even though her own life should pay the forfeit. . She perceived that the poor girl was as pale almost as herself, and that anguish of mind, horror aud home-sickness had brought her to death’s door. She was, it was evident, a daugh- ter of some Castilian of bigh birth, education, and wealth. Notall of this was surmise. The talk of the mother, and the side glimpse which Lena had gotten of the latter, proved it. She had seen that the apparel of Warnitta, though torn to rags, was of the finest silk; and the face of Marietta spoke of refinement and intel- ligence. ot wishing to awaken the poor girl, who evidently slept the sleep of exhaustion, andes recalling the fact that Marm Holbrook and Hank stood in need of herattention, Lena turned from her with reluctance, and withdrew from the lodge. The prisoners were now being brought within the crescent, and El Orso stood ready to super- intend the securing of them for the night, while a score or more of hideous squaws kept clamoring for their blood. These were ordered to stand aside, and several of the braves pro- ceeded to cut the bonds that held Hank and his spouse to their saddles, me No sooner were the cords severed that bound » Hank, than he fell to the earth, causing much merriment among the squaws; but this was 2 ges changed to surprise and fright, for as [ank struck the ground, the shock brought him back to life, and misery, and madness—in fact, the ‘‘ jim-jams,” so long deferred, had now possession of him. His hands were still tied fast, but he rolled over, and at length got himself in a sittin posture; then his bloodshot eyes snapped and glared with fury. He probably saw the painted fiends dancing around him, and other terrible shapes which came up before his disordered vision, menaced him on all sides. Gnashing his teeth, he rolled over and over on {the sward, stood upcn his head, tore up the grass, and darted here and there with a velocity never before witnessed by his appalled observers. At an order from El Orso, half-a-dozen braves strove to bind him; but, with the strength of mania, he hurled them, strong men though they were, to the earth like so many straws. Marm Holbrook, seeing that there was no immediate danger to herself, gradually lost sight of all else in her anxiety for Hank, and sat op, though in a state of great disorder. “Thar ye go, Hank! Thar ye goag’in! I tole yer thet ye’d go up ther spout ther nex’ time whisk’ gut ther best of yer. Ef yer hed only listened ter me, an’ gone back Texas-way, we mought ’a’ bin doin’ well, an’ gut cl’ar way from Tom Jones an’ the rest 0’ them no ’count ‘citz.’ May ther Lord fergive yer, fer I can’t! Yer hez put a heap o’ trouble on my head, es welles yer own. Arter thet las’ scrape with ther wolf, in thet jamboree in ther canyon, yer swored yer’d never lift another glass ter yer lips, an’ yer war drunk esa fiddler nex’ night, ank, look out, oie man, er ye’ll broke yer neck, an’ then ther Nugget’s gone up dead sure: fer I can’t run no more’n ther kitchen an’ ther bestest room. Thet makes me think o’ ther ‘ Angel.’ Everythin’ hes gone wrong, since she levauted, an’ tuck Giant George and Don Diablo. “Hank, yer a-bevin’ a boss circus all ter yer self, with ‘bout a dozen side-shows counted in; but yer hes whooped up a dog-goned pecooliar audjince. Bless my soul! Whar am I, an’ who air them hellyuns? Oh, good Lord pertect me}! Ihes allus bin a meetin’-house woman, when thar was and ter go ter, an’ byar I am with my hands tied among a passel o’ red Injxns! Oh-h-h, my Lord! I’m e’ena’most crazy, an’ hit hain’t no wonder! “ Hank! yer 8 at fool! Ibelieve yer jist a-puttin’ on half them didoes, thinkin’ some- body’ll sbake yer up another drink, But, oh Lordy! What needI keer? Only ef I gitsouten hyer, Pll find out who hoved me inter thet ‘hearse,’ an’ I swan he sha’n’t never hev asmell o’ whisk’ et. ther Nugget while I’m boss thar. But hyer I am a-runnin’ on like this when I orter be prayin’. I’m gittin’ desprit’, thet’s ther fact o’ ther biz, an’ I’d like ter brush my ha’r, an’ hit’s ondecent ter hey my clo’es mussed up this-a-way. Mr. ’Pache, ef yer’ll only cut these strings offen my wrists, I'll see thet yer hes free whisk’ ter ther Nugget, arter ther Gov’ment civerlizes yer, un’ runs yer back ter ther reser- vashe, ‘lessen they shoots yer fu’st!”
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24 Giant George’s Pard. KN Catching sight of Lena Reynolds, who had lowered her vail to escape being recognized by her, Marm Holbrook addressed her: “Say, ye-vul Who air yer that tramps ’roun’ a ’Pache camp with white woman’s dry-goods on? I knows yer face air white, but whar did yer come from, an’ what yer doin’ with these red hellyuns?. Come an’ cut me loose! I won't levant, I tell yer; Pll squat hyar jist ther same.” Lena resolved again to try her power. The Indians were cate amazed at the antics of Hank, which were still going on without the least sign of abatement, when Lena strode up to the chief, saying: “Bl Orso will give Santissima Blanco his knife, She willcut the strings that bind the white squaw. Hl Dios Grande has laid his hand on their beads, If El Orso does them harm, his corn will dry up, the rain will not fall, and sickness and death will come upon his tribe. Without a word, the Apache chief passed her his knife, and walking behind Marm Holbrook, Lena Reynolds deliberately severed her bonds, and at once turned away. With a heartfelt ‘*‘God bless yer!” the land- lady of the Nugget Hotel sprung to her feet, and began rubbing ber wrists, about each of which was a livid ring. She then shook out her scanty skirts, and endeavored to smooth them, and to arrange her hair as well as she could under such unfavorable circumstances. Then, as she again seated herself on the sward, she looked toward her liberator. ‘‘’Pears ter me,” she said, ‘f yer must be some relation ter ther‘ Ang’l.? Yer favors her a heap!” Ths Apaches were evidently convinced, by this time, that they had secured a very strange and most remarkable set of captives, and were at a loss what to think in regard to them. How- ever, they knew that it was impossible for them to escapa, and ElOrso made up his mind to hold a council on the morrow, and then and there to determine what was to be done in re- gard to them. Santissima Blanco, as a matter of course, must go to their distant village, and there be- come associated with their medicine-men, As for Hank, he could not be disposed of by tor- ture, as he was evidently insane. While things were in this situation in tho Apache camp, Don Diablo came ambling slowly around a foothill, in his usual listless attitude and manner, and walked deliberately up to the assemblage. Lona Reynolds saw him, and thinking it possible that be bore a message from Giant George, and fearing that the keen-eyed Indians would see the buckskin band upon his leg if he came to a halt near her, as he probably would, she slowly, and without any apparent aim, wondered here and there for some minutes about the opening, and eventually entered the lodge of the chief, where Marietta still lay asleep. The braves, however, took no notice of Don Diablo, their whole attention being centered upon the strange and terrible contortions and convulsions of poor Hank, The burro went coolly on, following Lena up | to the big lodge, and passed in as though be had always lived there, poking the flap to one side with his nose as he entered, the squaw on guard standing to one side, in her awe and amazement at seeing the woman in black, with the snow-white face, once more take possession, ‘‘Thar's ther burro ag’in!” exclaimed Marm Holbrook, as she caught sight of Don. ‘They say ther critter hes es much sense some ways as a human. Ef he hain’t gut more inter his brain-pan nor some what I knows, dang’d ef 1 don’t think George hed orter killed him *fore he was growed up! “Bless me! TharI is a-sw’arin’; an’I can’t ‘void hit, though I ortn’t ter go ter do it no times, an’ ’speshly when I’m li’ble ter git my back ha’r tored down an’ tuck off, skin and all, any minit. Thar goes thet Hank ag’in.” | Little did the Apaches think that below in the foot-hills, not half a mile away, a score of desperate and determined white men were ap- proaching, filled with hatred the most intense and a burning thirst for revenge. Led, too, by a woman, so wild and unearthly in appearance that they would have deemed their singular captives as naught, in the way of awakening their superstitious fears, in comparison with her. First came Warnitta, the Wild, now calm and cunning, but still showing in her ayes a perfect volcano of madness, ready at any moment to burst forth. Then came Giant George, Arizona Jack and Tom Jones, riding abreast, and fol- lowed by the ‘‘ citz,” all with weapons firmly clutched, ready to drive spurs at a moment’s notice, but yet moving quietly and with the utmost caution, in order that they might, if possible, steal in and rescue the captives before the latter couid be murdered by the Apaches, as they most certainly would be upon the first alarm—the safest of the poor unfortunates de- pending entirely, under Providence, upon the secrecy of the approach of their rescuers and avengers. CHAPTER XIII, SAVED! Wuen Lena re-entered the lodge, she saw that Marietta was still sleeping, and she stood but a moment watching her, when Don Diablo brusked through the folds of the buffalo-skin at the entrance. Hastily stooping, she severed the buckskin that was about the burro’s leg, at the same time speaking low words of praise, which the animal seemed to appreciate. : Opening the note, which to her great joy she found, Lena read: “Dean Man’s Gurion. “To Mrs, ReyNoups (THe ANGEL OF THE PINALENO RANGE): “At the request of our_mutual friend, Giant George, I write these lines. Iam yours devotedly, though we have never met. Weare on the mare! up the range—a score of good men and true—and intend to steal into the eae and save you and the others, or die in the attempt. Place not too much confidence in the power you have established over the Indians, for Giant George says they would mur- der you, upon the first alarm, The Pier are most to be feared, as Neel are jealous fiends, and their jealousy overrules their superstition, for our success, for sure it is that a most terrible” ee ee m2 * obs Roe et S&B em Se
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Giant George’s Pard, -) | death overhangs you, and but the slightest vail in tervenes between torture and ees We are few in numbers, but we hesitate not. Your friend to the death, “ Joun Burks, alias ARIZONA JACK,” No sooner had Lena perused this letter, than she made up her mind to prompt action. She felt that she had been trusting too much to her _ power, and that she stood upon a volcano which, at any moment, might burst into an eruption of blood, First, she would awaken the sleeping Marietta, ‘Make no outcry,” she said, as the startled girl sprung up in alarm; ‘‘I have seen your mother in the mountains. She is searching for you, and I am about to make an attempt to save you. .Obey me in everything, or we are lost. Come! I ‘will pull up a pin at the back of the lodge, and we can spring into the cedars unob- served,” Suiting the action to the word, Lena removed the pin, and the captive maiden, trembling and pale, with the whispered ‘‘ Gracias a Dios” upon her lips, passed out, and she followed her, both bounding into the cedars, and leaving Don Diablo standing in ,the ledge of the chief, its Sole occupant, __ Hand in hand Lena and Marietta tore through the th cket in the direction of the range, dread- ing each moment to hear the wild, death-preg- _hant cries of pursuit from the savages. __ ElOrso had seen the burro pass into the lodge, and knowing that the woman in black had also entered, he followed suspiciously, but not till - soOmelittle time had elapsed. Brushing past the squaw, the Apache chief Strode in. 4 He gazed for a moment in astonishment, for _ the pin had been replaced by Lena, and there Was no visible outlet to the lodge except the - one by which he had just entered; yet there was no being within that had life, except Don iablo. El Orso was at first convinced that Santissima Blanco had flown from the smoke-hole in the top of the lodge skyward, taking the Rose of Santa Rita with her in her flight. His fury at his loss was subdued by the awe whicb he felt. He grasped the torch from the earth, and held it aloft. “Waugh!” — This ejaculation sprung to his lips, as he saw that a corner of one of the robes was disarrarg- ed, He went forward with his torch, and ex- amined the earth, thus discovering that the pin had been recently drawn and replaced, Then he arose, his painted face contorted with the most devilish rage, his brutal lips curling away _ from his teeth, his black snake-like eyes glaring | like those of a wild beast suddenly brought to f | UY. Catching up a jaw-strap from the earth, and springing through the assembled braves and Squaws, he crdered one of the warriors to follow him. Quickly adjusting the strap, he mounted | his horse, the brave following his example. | “Santissima Blanco and the Rose of Santa Rita _have left the lodge of El Orso, Come! _ Let Coyote keep his tongue in his mouth. We | will find the white squaws, and they shall die at the torture-stake. The words ot Blanco were false. She came not from El Dios Grande. she shall die. We want not braves to help find two squaws, Vamonos!” With this explanation, the chief dashed past his lodge into the cedar thicket, in search of the two frightened females, who were now strug- gling toward the range, each step praying for strength to make their escape. As El Orso and Coyote disappeared among the cedars, the startled Apaches rushed to- ward the lodge of their chief. Ere they reached this, the sound of steeds, galloping to- ward the opening, struck their ears, and all caught up their bows, arrows, and rifles, and whirled about in their tracks, But the movement was too late, for as they turned, a dozen deadly steel tubes met their view, belching forth fire on the instant, and sending a hurtling rain of lead into their massed ranks, causing many, with wild death-yells, and arms thrown about their heads in agony, to reel and fall to earth, without even sounding a war-cry. . The Apache village was now a vocal pande- monium., Howls, shrieks, and groans were heard, while*deadly feathered shafts flew from their bows in every direction, mingled with leaden hail. The ‘‘ citz” were again on time. Marm Holbrook, as she cried out, ‘' Bless my soul, and thank the Lordy!” was jerked from the earth, much to the disarrangement of ward- robe and hair, by Tom Jones. Hank was bound hand and foot in a trice, and pulled over the saddle-horn by one of the ‘‘citz,” when all dashed around between the foot-hilJs; soon, however, returning in full view of the demor- alized Indians, and drawing up in line to the north side of the opening. A qe from the south caused the bewildered Apaches to look in that direction, when they saw that another line, of half a score of desper- ate whites, was drawn up, and ready. Then they began to realize that they were corraled. To the west of them, beyond the narrow belt of cedars, rose an abrupt cliff which prevented escape in that quarter; while in their front, across the open space which was scat- tered over with their ponies, and exposed to the fire of both lines of whites, was another abrupt elevation, Clearly there was no escape, and they drew back into the crescent of lodges for council, filled with indignant wonder at the absence of their chief at such a critical time, and also with apprebension at the warlike array of whites on both sides of them, with their rifles gripped in their hands, In neither of the parties of whites, however, was Giant George, Arizona Jack, or Warnitta, the Wild; for, just before reaching the Apache village they had discovered two female figures, seemingly flying for life, and as they scanned them closely, they recognized Lena Reynolds, At the same instant Warnitta cried out, with a wail of anguish: “Marietta! My child! My long-lost child, Marietta!” 5 Then, in a frenzy, and drawing her long stil- etto, as El Orsoand Coyote next came into view- she dasbed off in pursuit. The mustang of War- ntissima | nitta seemed to become maddened even as its
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Giant George’s Pard. mistress, to have its passion swayed by hers; for, with mild flowing mane and blazing eyes it sped on in the direction of the fugitives, “Jack, come with me!” called out Giant George. ‘Put fer ther camp o’ ther hellyuns, boyees. We’ll j'ine yer fore long. Hit’s death, er ther ‘ Ang’l’ with us this hitch!” As he said this, the burly scout set his teeth, and dreve spurs to his horse, which with a snort sprung frantically after Warnitta, Arizona ack followed close, both with their belt wea- pons pulled around in front, and their rifles slung on their saddle-horns, in order that they might not be inconvenienced in the race on which so much depended. On, with trembling steps and tottering forms, went Lena Reynolds and Marietta, the Rose of Santa Rita, On, crashing through the cedars, flew El Orso and Coyote, the eyes of both fixed upon their intended victims, On, on, like arrows shot from bows, swept the giant scout, with Jack and Warnitta, the Wild; on, over each and every obstruction, knowing that life and death hung upon an instant of time, As Warnitta appeared when dashing * upon the Apache in the canyon, so she appear now @ and the same with her frightfully vicious steed. And now, out upon the night air burst shriek on shriek, as Lena and Marietta found them- selves upon the brink of a bend in the canyon, its bed being a hundred feet below its sides, far down a deep chasm, only the further side of which was lit up by the moon, while close on their trail, flying like a tornado, came the two paint-daubed fiends in pursuit. An exultant yell from the Apaches, as they took in the situation, now reached the two hunted, hopeless ones, and they fell upon their knees, the hands of one clasping those of the other, as they felt that their efforts had been in vain. As the shrieks of the hapless women pierced the air, a scream, loud and prolonged like that of a panther, fell on the ears of El Orso, and turning quickly he discovered his pursuers. There were but three of them, and could he but decoy them into his camp, his braves and squaws, by having these captives to torture, would overlook his infatuation for the Castilian girl. They should be burned at the stake, and Santissima Blanco, if she did not prove conclu- sively that she was ‘‘big medicine,” would suffer also, Having thus settled it to his satisfaction, he shouted: “Coyote will take Santissima Blanco! El Orso will take the Rose of Santa Rital We will lead the white dogs who will follow into our camp. Then the torture-stakes shall be red with their blood, Come!” On thundered the red devils, and a moment after El Orso had yelled his order to Coyote, the horses of both were brought to a halt each side of the kneeling women. Red hands instantly grasped the trembling arms of the now hopeless ones, and they were at once drawn up and clutched firmly to the Petes breasts of their merciless captors. ben the snorting steeds were headed on the back trail. Flying like the wind, they dashed along the northern edge of the canyon, which wound round in a westerly curve, and they just escaped being cut off by Warnitta, whose mad mustang seemed as eager as his mistress, With a scream of baffled rage, as she saw her child in those savage arms, Warnitta turned in chase, Giant George and Arizona Jack, now becom- ing aware of the position of the canyon, guided their horses more to the west, hoping to inter- cept the red fiends, who now sent out yells of exultation over their success. El Orso was in the lead, but cunning as he was, he had not taken into consideration the fact that the horses, both of Coyote and him- self, being double laden, could not keep up the speed they had so far maintained, Their pur- suers, however, instantly perceived this advan- tage in their favor, and urged their steeds with- out mercy, fearing that if they did not at once close with the Apaches, the latter would either . stab their captives or be able to take refuge in the gap, for, asa matter of course, they were not aware of the manner iu which the “citz” had corraled the Indians, or the nature of the ground where the lodges were pitched. Coyote, having the best horse, darted ahead, and Bl Orso, holding the jaw-strap in the samo hand that clasped Marietta—both captives had fainted from fright—lashed his mustang with all the strength of his powerful arm; but it was no use, for the avengers were upon him, Warnitta, the Wild, shot up on his right, her mad steed with its mouth wide open, aiming to clasp its terrible jaws upon the neck of the mus- tang of the chief. The mother, maddened again, this time b the sight of the death-pale face of her child, with knife in hand, hair flying, and a murder- ous light in her eyes, made ready to spring upon E] Orso, regardless of consequences, But Arizona Jack was, as usual, on hand. Driving his spurs into tbe bleeding flanks of his horse, he came crashing, at break-neck speed, to save the poor girl. As the head of the wild mustang pressed along ast the leg of the Apache chief, he drew his ong scalping-knife, and with the velocity of thought, raised the glittering steel, nerving his sinewy arm to plunge the weapon into the breast of the unconscious maiden, But his arm was stayed as his eye caught sight of the maddened woman, so unearthly in appearance, so terrible in her tiger-like thirst for his blood. At the instant that El Orso was thus paralyzed with the sight before him, Ari- zona Jack plunged alongside on his left, and with the quickness of a flash of light, and the strength of a giant, born of his deep concern for the fair girl, he tore her from the arms of the Apache chief, and the Rose of Santa Rita was saved! Then followed the most terrible scene of this tragic drama. The mustang of El Orso, no longer urged on by his appalled master, slackened its speed, pant- ing with over-exertion, and that moment the jaws of the wild, frenzied steed of Warnitta closed upon its neck as it reared upon its hind legs, and shot out its terrible hoofs, treading ere Ae or para ty 8S. ARS pa Pixs - WO he GOA pes SN vie ?
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about and facing its victim, while it tore the flesh from the bones of the doomed animal, which sunk to its knees with a shriek of fright and agony. Then it was that Warnitta sprung like a pan- ther over the head of her terrible mustang, and directly upon the Apache chief. Both rolled over and oyer in deadly conflict; Warnitta, in her insane rage, overcoming El Orso, whose death-yell followed instantly. Ve While this tragic scene was transpiring, and Jack was seated upon the ground, striving with his canteen of water to revive the Rose of Santa Rita, still another tragedy was being enacted but two rifle-shots away. As Coyote dashed ahead with Lena Reynolds in his arms, bis whole attention directed upon urging his horse to greater speed, Giant George was on his track; grand, magnificent in his every move, poise of form and glance of eye, as he sped like the wind to the rescue of one whom he idolized, and for whom he would willingly die. There was a nobleness in his insane concern, a kingliness in this border hero, which was now brought to the front, and which would have commanded the admiration of even a fool, a dolt, and caused him for once, through the in- fluence of that admiration, to be an intelligent man. As it was, with such an incentive to valor and skill ahead of him, the giant scout was invin- cible; and, with bowie held tightly in his hand, he ranged along the left side of Coyote’s horse, the brave being unaware of his close proximity until his foe was literally upon him, Now followed a crashing, sickening sound, as the bowie of Giant George clove the skull of the Indian, and then another; and Coyote and his horse together sunk lifeless to the earth, the mustang with the knife still projecting from be- tween the bones at the top of its head, The wild cry of triumph from the scout brought his horse to a sudden halt; and the next moment Giant George held fast clasped in his strong arms, the black-robed, paje faced, sense- less woman, to whom so much was owed, and for whom so much had been risked—‘t The Angel of the Pinaleno Range!” CHAPTER XIV. APACHES ON THE HALF-SHELL, As has been stated, a line of ‘citz” to the north, and south of the opening, ei i corraled the Apaches in their temporary vil- lage; and Tom Jones dared not take the respon- sibility of ordering a charge for the reason that the Indians, without counting the squaws, out- numbered his men two to one, and were, be- pa many of them, armed with repeating rifles. Tom and the ‘ citz” were terribly exercised in their minds in regard to the safety of the “ Ang’l,” for the shrieks had been heard by them, and yet they dared not abandon their positions. They knew not the exact number of the Indians, and therefore were unable to de- cide how many Giant George, Jack and War- pitta bad to contend against. For this reason they were on thorns, so to speak. From the demoralization among the Apaches, 2% + Giant George’s Pard. Tom decided that El Orso must be absent, and that probably the chief was one of the pursuers of the escaped women. However, they were not kept long in suspense. The pans scout aud Arizona soon appeared, each baying a woman before him on the saddle. A second glance showed that the female thus carried by George was dressed in black, and that her face was pale as death; but they re- cognized her from afar, felt that she was alive, and wild, ringing cheers burst from every throat for *‘ ther Ang’l o’ Penarlayno Range!” Feeble as Lena was, she waved her hand at the ‘‘citz” which nerved them anew for the fight, and the scout and Jack passed on, with their fair burdens, to the retreat in which Hank and Marm Holbrook had been left. The latter, who was now weeping for joy, and letting her tongue run on without mercy at Hank, who was seated at the foot of « bowlder, now realizing, after a brief explanation from Giant George, that the woman in black was the ** Ang’l,” came near fainting for the third time, The poor woman’s feelings may be imagined. Leaving the released captives, the two men hastened to the scene of operations, and sending one of the ‘citz” thence to guard the women, made ready for the desperate fight. Observing the return of the two whites with the captives, the Apaches decided that El Orso had been killed, and immediately the next in rank took command, ordering the squaws into the cedars, to make their escape, if need re- quired, or opportunity presented, Previous to this, however, a quartering fire from the Winchester rifles of the ‘‘ citz” caused a dozen death yells; and then, all the Apaches, rendered desperate by their position, ran ina scattering manner to the “cpen,” and jerking up the stakes to which their mustangs were secured, sprung upon the steeds, Forming quickly in line, they made ready to break through the ‘‘citz” to the north, but their doom was sealed; for, as they started toward their enemies in front, a perfect bail of shots cut down men and horses from bebind, and be- fore they could recover, Giant George, Jack, Tom, and the ‘citz” in their front, were upon them like an avalanche, at a six-shooter charge. At the same time, the ‘‘ citz” in the rear _gal- loped madly upon them, with wild yells. Then came the tug of war. A rattling discharge of revolvers filled the air with smoke, and sulpburous smell, while the spot where the Apaches had drawn up 1n line, was one mad mass of struggling men and mus- tangs. But this fierce fight could not last long. Soon all was over. The sounds of battle ceased and only the groans of the wounded and dying sounded on the morning air. The giant scout, with Arizona Jack, Tom Jones, and the surviving ‘‘citz,” were gathered near; not a man of the number being tree from wounds, Thus they stood, while afar up, on the bluff, crouched nearly two-score of miserable squaws, who, as they crawled toa position froin which they could view the late encampment, burst out in the most unearthly howls, that rung and echoed wildly from cleft to crag, in the rocky range!
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Giant George’s Pard. Some half a dozen warriors escaped to the cedars, all more or less wounded, and joined the squaws, when, fearing pursuit, they all fled to the gulches, where they secreted themselves. Eager though the squaws were for fight, they knew that their bows and arrows could avail them little against the fast-shooting guns of the whites, ‘‘ Boyees,” said Giant George, after he had ot his breath, ‘‘ we-uns hes made ther riffle. it war desp’rit, though; ormighty desp’rit fer a few fleetin’ periods, Fact air, hit war ther toughest fight [ hes engineered in a heap o’ moons. We hes lost four of our boys, but we hes wiped out El Orso’s band purty slick and clean. Hit’s wo’th more’n we kin count ter Arizone. Thar’s nigh onter thirty-five o’ ther dod-blasted painted pirates what we hes civil- ized, an’ what’ll stay so. Arizone Jack, how does yer brace up? Does yer like ter civerlize *Paches, er air yer wishin’ yer war back Wil- min’ton-way with yer brother Tom?” “Well, Pard George, I am naturally a go- ahead kind of a fellow, and like excitement, but I must confess that I’ve had it piled on pretty thick, and would like time to breathe be- tween shots, Things are lively here, and Iam favorably impressed with the white population of this section, but the number of wild folks rather sets me back. That reminds me, I won- der where Warnitta can be. I should supposo she would want to see her child, so recently saved from a terrible fate.” “She’s a rip staver,” said George. ‘'She’s a rambunctious tearer, she air, But she wouldn’t know her darter from a buffler calf, if she see’d her, for I s’pect she’s madder nor a rattler in dog-days. Howsomever, she’s a human, an’ a boss fighter, an’ mebbe so she kin be fotched roun’ ter ba Na biz ag’in. Her thinkin’ mer- cheen air all out o’ gear. Boyees, kinder herd up ther plunder, an’ [ll go fer ter find ther wild woman. Tom Jones, what’s up? Yer ‘pears down in ther mouth. Come on, Jack! ell go an’ hunt up ther wild woman an’ her condemned cuss of a hoss.” At the scene of the race for the captives, the scout and Jack discovered the vicious mustang, standing at the point where El Orso had been hurled from his wounded steed. Near him, and with her head pillowed upon tbe horse of El Orso, lay Warnitta, apparently asleep. Her hands were covered with gore, as was her rag- ged elothing; in one she still clutched her bloody nife, and in the other— “What on earth is it?” asked Arizona Jack. “Kf hit ain’t El Orso’s heart, Pll eat bugs fer grub fer ther nex’ six moons! See whar she cut hit out. She’s kept her affidavy, dang’d ef she hain’t!” ‘*Ts she dead or asleep, think you?” “She's a-sleepin’ like a suckin’ baby, an’ I’m a-bettin’ she’ll wake up straight an’ squar’; but she’ll hev ter soak herself in ther canyon ’bout half a moon, an’ put on diff’runt togs, ’fore she kin ’sociate with civerlized folkses like ther Bald Eagle 0’ ther Rockies.” “Shall [ awaken her, Pard George?” “Reckon we'd orter. Some skulkin’ might glide this way.” Jack placed his hand upon tho shoulder of the red sleeping woman, but sprung quickly away from her, for the mad mustang bounded toward him with opened mouth, “Dang the cantankerous cuss of a critter!” cried out the scout; ‘‘I b’lieve Vl hev ter put *bout an ounce o’ lead into hits brain-box, it’s ther bestest thing ter be did.” “No, Pard George,” interposed Jack, ‘ don’t shoot the nag, for it has been the means of do- ing much good in last night’s performance—in fact, it saved the girl’s life.” “Waal, jest es yer say, Jack. Listen! I'll whoop her up.” And Giant George gave a piercing yell. Slowly the eyes of Warnitta, the Wild, opened and she arose toa sitting posture, gaz- ing around her in utter bewilderment. Then, gradually, the scenes of the terrible night began to return to her, and she cried out as she looked around, piteously and pleadingly, yet hesitat- ingly, as if she feared an answer that would crush her brains: ** Marietta, my child! Where ismy Marietta?” **She is safe, and is waiting to see you,” said Jack, pointing as he spoke toward the south- east, Throwing the heart of El Orso from her, with a look of horror and disgust, Warnitta, who now had the is rpehtes of an entirely different woman from what they had seen of her, sprung upon her strange steed, and darted off toward the ok designated by Jack. ** Didn’t I tole yer she’d be ’roun’, straight an’ mild, Pard Jack? Reckon she’ll pan out a heap o’ sense within a few suns. Come; let’s j’ine ther boyees, an’ take a shake with ther Angel o’ ther Penarlayno Range.” George and Jack galloped back toward the rescued captives, and the scene of the terrible fight, and found that the “citz” bad buried their dead pards and heaped the buffalo-skin lodges and useless camp tricks of the Apaches upon the slain savages. As our friends rode into the open space, Tom Jones set fire to the pile, which blazed up wild- ly, as he yelled: ‘* Hyer’s yer baked ’Paches on ther half-shell, es ther boyees et ther Gulf says! Pard George, whar's Warnitta, ther Wild? This hyer sort o’ a circus would jist make her hump herself, an’ fly ’roun’ with pure satisfac’,” ‘She hes die-sected El Orso, tuck a see-ester on his mashed ecarkiss, an’ then skuted off ter see her darter. I’m tolable glad she ain’t my marm. But ef she don’t come ’roun’ ter a squar’ biz, she’ll bu’st up Sardine-box City when she its thar, with her dang’d onnat'ral crazy hoss, har’s Don Diablo? I want ter hug ther cuss fer totin’ ther "Nited States mail. He tuck a heap o’ trouble outen our brain-boxes, ’sides Jievin’ ther Ang’l’s mind.” ‘*Ther Don air dead broke down,” said Tom, “Shovin’ him through civerlize, an’ fotchin’ him back so ounatral like, then skutin’ him *roun’ ‘mong the prickly pears an’ ’Paches, war too much fer him, Reckon his grub didn’t *gree with him, St.-Louis-way. He’s billious, fer 1 hain’t see’d him take a chaw 0’ nothin’ sence he struck Arizone, though his common grub was scattered promiscu’s-like in ther basin, Dll sw’ar he didn’t puli greens in ther canyon;
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Giart George’« Pard. fer he run ther mail right through without ; stoppin’ et ther stations fer ’freshments of no kind.” Giant George started of for the bowlder be- fore Tom had ceased speaking, and the latter superintended the collecting of the ponies of the Apaches, and the packing of the same with robes, saddles, guns, and every article of useful lunder which could be gotten together in the Weaclsiea village. CHAPTER XV, BUSINESS REVIVED. Tur reader is now invited to return with us to Sardine-box City, for the purpose of “ cor- raling” within the precints of semi-civiliza- tion our peculiar characters, the counterpart of each one of whom he may meet any day in whatever ‘‘one-horse” mining-town of that section he may care to visit. A long line of mounted men and women, and packed horses, are winding here and there among the bowlders and cedars, They reach the stage road, passing the spot where the “hearse,” With its human occupants, not for- getting Don Diablo, were so unfortunately left by the ‘ citz” when the shanties blazed. Up toward us they ride—Giant George, by the side of the “ Angel;” Arizona Jack with Marietta; next, and alone, Warnitta, the Wild, the long black vail of Lena Reynolds hiding her face and tangled hair, and proving thit, with the recovery of her child, she has also recovered her senses, and 1s ashamed of her most forlorn cindition. And next came Marm Holbrook and poor Hank; the latter in his tattered rags, and cov- ered with bruises and scratches, ‘** Bless my soul, an’ thank ther Lordy!” cried out Marm Holbrook. ‘Ther Nugget’s all hunk, an’ Sardine-box City ain’t bu’sted yit, by a jug-full. Hank, yer dog-goned ole fool! ef ther Angel wa’n’t goin’ ter locate hyar, I’d skute back Texas-ways afore night, it ain’t fer a lone woman, clear out 0’ civerlize, ter per- tend ter know much ’bout hyerarter, but I ‘member ther gospill-slingers used ter say, ‘ Hit’s easier fer a buffler bull ter crawl through a button-hole, then for a pilgrim ter smuggle hisself inter kingdom come when he’s bilin’ over wi’ p'ison.’ Hank, ye’d better slide out ter ther smoke-house when we arroves, an’ crawl in an’ make a hefty prayer, fer ef any pilgrim needs religion it’s you. But I know ye'r’ goin’ es straight es yer wabbly legs kin tote yer mean carkiss, ter thet bar, an’ pour down "bout a pint 0’ chain-lightnin’, Yer pervokes me, meetin’- house woman es [ air, till I’spects I'll die in a crazy-house.” ‘ f Behind this worthy pair of peculiars, came Tom Jones, proud and consequential at being sheriff of the burg that bad cleaned out the Panthers and the band of El Orso. He saw bright prospects ahead. The Angel was saved, and would locate in Sardine-box, and_the city was bound to grow and be asuccess. He would ~> pards with Lena and Giant George in bis anue, and if would no longer be the ‘‘ Slip-up,” t but the “ Angel.” Arizona Jack, he had al- ready decided to engage as assistant superin- tendent. In along line in the rear, came the ‘‘ citz,” leading the Apache mustangs, some of them heavily packed with plunder. Much to Marm Holbrook’s joy, she found her “best room” as she had left it, Descending the stairs to welcome Marietta and Warnuitta the Wild, to the ‘‘ Nugget,” she spied her liege lord, back of the bar. “Bless my soul! Hank Holbrook; ef yer can’t settle down ter yer ole biz bout es speedy an’ without sary-mony. I'm ther most beat woman in Arizony, but Iswan I won’t waste time a-talkin’ ter yer, when thar’s better folkses a-waitin’ ter be ’comerdated.” : Hank took no notice. whatever of the ‘‘ chin- rousic ” of Marm Holbrook. He was used to it. So, swallowing another drink, and then tossing a spoonful of ground coffee into his mouth, be looked up with a contemptuous glance at the medallion likeness of Buffalo Bill, the eyes of which seemed to be filled with mirth, but who was now ‘nowhere”. in Hank’s estimation, compared with himself and bis frontier expeti- ence, “Dog-gone yer, Bill Cody!” he exclaimed, **T hes swallered more Injuns than yer ever see’d. I hes heerd thet yer c’u’d pour down a heap o? terrantaler juice, but I’m a-layin’ my pile flat_thet yer ain’t nowbar ‘longside o’ Hank. °Pears ter me,” he added, reflectingly, ‘thet I’m a leetle off my_kerbase tall yit, an Pll take another snifter. I doesn’t miss notbin’ from ahint ther bar, which proves thet Bi}l Cody air a p’ison bad man; fer all yer hes gut ter doair ter hang bis pictur’ up, an’ nary a pilgrim ’l) dar’ touch anything.” Hank rushed to the door, “Rah fer ther Angel o’ Penarlayno Rangel” he yelled. ; A roar of laughter greeted the landlord’s ef- ort. Marm Holbrook conducted Lena to her room, and some of the ‘‘ citz” ran to the stables for her baggage. Onthe next day, after all had recovered somewhat from their fatigue, the burg was aronsed by Tom Jones, who came riding up at headlong speed, and yelling like a fiend. His hat was gone, his bair flying, and Giant George, who stood at the ‘' Nugget” door, called out: “‘ Boyees, this air ther dog-gonedest burg fer erazy folks I ever struck. Now, thar’s Tom Jones, what war never off his kerbase es I *members, is es luny es Warnitta, the Wild, war. I’ve a purty good mind ter let fly with my six, an’sp’ile a sheriff fer further biz. Jack, bes Warnitta ’roved ’round all squar’ yit?” “Yes, pard George: she’s all right, and noble-looking woman she is. She wants you an 1 myself to act as guard and guide to the Sama Rita Ranch, near Tucson, where ber busband, now almost insane with grief, awaits some knowledge of his wife and child.” ‘Tl go within five miles o’ ther ranch, Jack. Thet’s es near es I keer ter glide ef ther ole man’s Juny: es I tole yer, I’ve hed enough o? thet.” Further conversation was interrupted by the
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Se See ae 30 _ Giant George’s Fara. return of Tom Jones. Back he came, his horse snorting and plunging @t % furions rete TT to the “Nugget” he dered, sprunt from bis steed, grasped Giant George by the band, <p it a hearty shake, then caught the hand of Arizona Jack, and next, bounding over the bar, dragged Hank outside into the street, where they clutched and rolled over in the dirt. “What the deuce is the matter with Tom?” queried Jack. “Dang’d ef { know! Is lunyness ketchin’?” *Reckon not,” was the reply; ‘‘ but it seems to be epidemic in this latitude.” “Bless my soul!” screamed Marm Holbrook, running from the kitchen. ‘‘Hes thet Hank gut ther jim-jams ag’in? I sw’ar I'll hev ter tio him up in ther smoke-house.” “Hank’s all right,” said Jack. ‘Its Tom Jones this time. He’s madder than a March- born hatter.” At this moment Tom sprung to his feet, raised the landlord also to the perpendicular, and pointing up the range-gap where the stage-road ’ wound, he yelled: “Take a squint up ther trail, Hank, dog- gone yer! What der yer see?” As he spoke, a long line of heavy ox-wagons wound around the curve, and started down the decline, “Wagins. Dod blast yer, Tom Jones! Ef yer don’t loose yer grip, Isw’ar [ll never shove yer another errigate)’ “Wagins. Dod blast yer, Hank; them is loaded with ther furnisses, quartz mill, an’ mersheenery. Hurra-h-h-h fer ther Angel o’ ther Penarlayno Range! Hurra-b-h-h fer ther Slip-up Mine! Hurra-h-b-h fer everybody! Hold me, Giant George, er I sw’ar [ll bu’st!” “T'd rutber a dang’d sight see you bu’st then Sardine-box City!” exclaimed the burly scout, springing into the middle of the street, and firing in quick succession the twelve shots in his revolvers; but, before the last report echoed in the range, the “‘citz” broke loose, and once again Sardine-box City was in an uproar. Lena Reynolds, dressed ina neat habit, with Marietta and Warnitta, the Wild, by her side, the latter now appearing like another woman, passed out into the street and welcomed the wagon-master, with his valuable freight, which had been ordered on the road long befors the arrival of the benefactors of the burg. But, in closing, we will say that Giant George and Arizona undertook to guard and guide ,;Warnitta and her daughter Marietta to Tucson. We must bring our narrative to an end, ata time the most favorable for all concerned, when the long train of wagons containing the quartz mill and machinery for the Slip-up Mine fill the streets of Sardine-box City, and the ‘‘citz” are wild with joy, as the air rings with far-sounding cheers for ‘Ther Angel o’ ther Penarlayno Range.”! THE END, BEADLE AND ADAMS’ STANDARD DIME PUBLICATIONS Speakers. Each volume contains 100 large pages, printed from clear, open type, comprising the best collec- tion of Dialogues, Dramas and Recitations. The Dime Speakers embrace twenty-five volumes viz.: . American Speaker. 15. Komikal Speaker. . National Speaker. 16, Youth's Speaker. 3. Patriotic Speaker. 17. Eloquent Speaker, . Comic Speaker. 18. Hail Columbia Speak- 1 2 3, 4 5. Elocutionist, er. 6. 19. Serio-Comic Speaker, 7. 20. Select Speaker. 8 21. Funny Speaker. 9. 22, Jolly Speaker. 23. Dialect Speaker. 24, Recitations and Read- U1. Dime Debater. 2. Exhibition Speaker. | ings. 13. 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Dialogues No. Fifteen. |Dialogues No. Thirty-two. Dialogues No. Sixteen. [Dialogues No. Thirty-three, Dialogues No.Seventeen | Dialogues No. Thirty-four, Dialogues No. Thirty-five. 15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book. Hand-Books of Games. Handbook ef Summer Sports, Book of Crequet. Yachting and Rowing. Chess Instructor. Riding and Driving. Cricket and Football. Book of Pedestrianism, Guide to Swimming. ; Handbook of Winter Sports—Skating, etc. Lives of Great Americans. 1.—George Washington. | VIII.—Israel Putnam. Il.--John Paul Jones. X,—-Tecumseh, 1.—MadAnthonyWayne | XI,—Abraham Lincoln. TV.—Ethan Allen, XII.—Pontiac. V.—Marquis de Lafayette | XIII.—Ulysses S. Grant. The above publications are for sale by all news- dealers or will be sent, post-paid, on receipt nf rice, ten cents each, by BEADLE AND ADA? 4 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y.
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° 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. By EL. Wheeler, Kansvs King; or, The Red Right Hand. By Buffalo Bill, The Flying Pave ee. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, The Double Daggers. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Two Detectives. By Albert W. Aiken. The Prairie Pilot, By Buffalo Bill. The Buffalo Demon. By Edward L. Wheeler. Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. By Ol) Coomes. Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By ‘Texas Jack,” Buffalo Ben, Prince of the Pistol. “By E. L. Wheeler. Ralph Roy. the Boy Buccaneer. By C 1. Prentiss Ingraham, Nick o’ the wht. By T, |. Harbangh. Yellowstone Jack. By Joseph &. Badger, Jr. Wild Ifvan Boy Claude Duval. By E. L.Wheeler, Diamond Dirk; or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 0) ¢] Prentiss Lugralam. Keen-Knife, Prince of the Prairics, By O11 Coomes. By J. F. C. Adams. Oregon Sol, Nick Whiffl-s’s Boy Spy. Denth-Face, the Detective. By E. L. Whee Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. By Ol Coomes, Roaring Ralph Roc By Harry St. George. The Boy Clown, By F Finn. The Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza. Edward L. Wheeler. The Sea-Cat. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker, The Dumb Spy. By Oll Cocines. Rattling Rube. By Hurry St. George, Old Avalanche, the Annihilator. By EB. L. Wheeler. @ Glass-Eye, the Great Shot of the West. By J. F.C. Adams. The Boy Captain. By Roger Starbuck. Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. By Capt. F. Whi Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian. By Edward L. Wheeler. Nightingale Nat. By T. C, Harbaugh. Black John, the Road Agent. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. Omaha OW, the Masked Terror. By E. L. Wheeler. Burt Bunker, the Trapper. By George E. Lasalle. The Boy Rifles; or, The Underground Camp. By A. C. Trona. The White Buffalo. By George E. Lasalle. Jin Bludsoe, Jr. By Edward Wiliceler. Ned Mazel, the Boy Trapper. By Capt, J. F. C. Adams. Deadly Eye, the Unknown Scout. By fuffalo Bill. Nick Whiflles’« Pet. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. Deadwood Dick’s« Eagles, By Edward L. Wheeler, The Border King. By Oll Coomes. Old Wickory 3 or, Pandy Ellis’s Scalp. By Marry St. George, The White Indian. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 5 Buckhorn BUl. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Shadow Ship. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. The Red Brotherhood. By W. J. Hamilton. Dandy Jack; or, The Outlaw of the Oregon Trail. Harbaugh. Wurricane Bill. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr, Single Hand or, A Life for a Life. By W. J. Hamilton. Patent-leather Joe. By Philip S. Warne. The Border Robin Hood, By Buffalo Bill. Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter. By Edward L, Wheeler. Old Zip’« Cabin; or, A Greevhorn in the Woods. By Capt. J. F.C. Adams. Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. By O11 Coomes. Mad Tom Western. By W. J. Hamilton. Deadwood Dick on Deck. By Edward L. Wheeler. Hawkeye Marry, the Young Trapper. By Oll Coomes. The Boy Duelist. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. By Albert W. Aiken. Corduroy Charlie, the Boy Bravo. By Edward L. Wheeler’ WU Somers, the Boy Detective. By Chas, Morris. Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. By A. W. Aiken. Rosebud Rob. By Edward L. Wheeler. Lightning Joe. By Captain J. F.C. Adams. Kit Harefoot, tle Wood-Hawk. By T. C. Harbaugh. Rollo, the Boy Ranger. By Ol] Coomes. Idy1, the Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. By Edward L. Wheeler. Petective Dick ; or, The Heroin Rags. By Charles Morris. Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. By O11 Coomes. 1 Sharp Sam; or, The Adventures ofa Friendless Boy, By J. Alexander Patten. : SRW S TONSA SY De iokedesked By By aker. By T. C. BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY. Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. 72 The Lion of the Sea, By Albert W. Aiken. %8 Photograph Phil, the Boy Sleuth; or, Rosebud Rob's Reappenr- ance. By E. L. Wheeler. 74 Pieayune Pete; or, Charles Morris. 75 Island Jim; or, The Pet of the Family. Hemyng (Jack Harkaway). 76 Watch-Eye, the Shadow. By Edward L. Wheelor. %@ Dick Dead Eye. the Boy Smuggler. By Col. P. Ingraham. 78 Deadwood Dick’s Device. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 79 The Black Mustanger. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 80 Old Frosty, the Guide. By T. C. Harbaugh. 81 The Sea Viper. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 82 Seth Jones; or, The Captives of the Frontier. By E.S. Ellis 88 Canada Chet, the Counterfeiter Chief. By E.L, Wheeler, 84 The Dumb Page. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 85 The Boy Miners. By Edw rd 5. Ellie. 86 Jack MWarkaway in New York, By Bracebridge Hemyng. 87 The Mussar Captain, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 88 Deadwood Pick in Leadville. By Edward L. Wheeler. 89 Bill Biddon, Trapper. By Edward §, Ellis. 90 Tippy, the Texan. By George Gleason. 91 Mustang Sam, the King of the Plains. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 92 The Ocean Bloodhound. By Samuel W. Tearce. 98 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy. By Charles Morris. 94 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By E. L. Wheeler. 95 Buck Buckram. By Captain J. F. C. Adams. 96 Gilt-Edged Dick, By Edward 1. Wheeler. 97% The Black Steed of the Prairies, By James L. Bowen. 98 The Sen Berpent, By Juan Lewis, 99 Bonanza Bill, the Man Tracker. By E. L. Wheeler. 100 Nat Todd} or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. By E. S, Ellis. 101 Daring Davy}; the Young Benr Killer. By Harry St. George 102 The Yellow Chief. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 108 Chip, the Girl Sport. By Fdward L. Wheeler. 104 The Black Schooner. By Roger Starbuck. 105 Handsome Harry, tho Bootblack Detective. 106 Night-Mawk Kit. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 107 Jack Woyle’s Lend. By Edward L, Wheeler. 108 Rocky Mountain Kit. By T. C. Harbaugh. 109 The Branded Hand, By F 110 The Dread Rider. By George W. Browne. 111 Boss Bob, the King of Bootblacks. By Edward L. Wheeler. 112 The Welpless Hand. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 118 Sear-Face Saul, the Silent Munter. By Oll Coomes. 114 Piney Paul, the Mountain Boy. By T. C. Harbaugh. 115 Deadwood Dick’s Double. By Edward L. Wheeler. 116 Jabez Coffin, Skipper. By Capt. F. Whittaker. W117 Fancy Frank, of Calorado. By “ Buffalo Bill.” 118 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. By Chas. Morris. 119 Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base. By Edward L. Wheeler. 3 120 Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper. By T. C. Harbaugh. 121 Marry Armatrong, the Captain of the Club. By Brace- bridge Hemyng, (Jack iurvawras:) ‘ pik 122 The Hunted Hunter. By Edward S. Ellis. 128 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. By Edward L. Wheeler. 124 Judge Lynch, Jr. By T. C. Harbaugh. 125 The Land Pirates, By Capt. Mayne Reid. 126 Blue Blazes; or, The Brexk o’ Day Boys of Rocky Bar. By Frank Dumont. 127 Tony Fox, the Ferret. By Edward L. Wheeler, 128 Black Bess, Will Wildfire’s Racer. By Charles Morris. Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. By By Bracebridge By C. Morris. rank Dumont. Issued Every Wednesday. Beadle’s Pocket Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE AN™ ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York.
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BEADLE’'S POCKET LIBRARY. Published Hvery Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. 129 Eagle Kit. the Boy Demon. By Ol! Coomes. | 194 Prospect Pete, the Boy Miner. By Ol] Coomes, 180 Gold Trigger. the Sport. By T. C. Harbangh. 195 The Venderfoot Trailer. By T. C. Harbaugh. 181 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike. By |"196 The Dandy Detective. By Charles Morris. Edward L, Wheelers -+ 197 Roy, the Young Cattle King. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 182 Dainty Lance, the Boy Sport. By J. E. Badger, Jr. 198 Ebony Dan’s Mask. By Frank Dumont. 188 Wild-fire, the Boas of the Road, By Frank Dufiont. 199 Dictionary Nat, Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh, 184 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. By Charles Morris. 200 The Twin Horsemen. By Capt. Frederiok Whittaker. 185 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood. By E. L. Wheeler. 201 Dandy Darke’s Pards. By Wm. R. Eyster. 186 Old Rube, the Hunter. By Capt. Hamilton Holmes. 202 Tom, the Texan Tiger. By on Coomes. 187 Dandy Rock, the Man from Texas. By G. Wado Browne. | 208 Sam, the Office Boy. By Charles Morris. 188 Bob Rockett, the Boy Dodger. By Chas. Morris. 204 The Young Cowboy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 189 The Black Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. By Jos. | agg The Frontier Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. E. Badger, Jr. “206 White Light. ing; or, The Boy Ally. By T. C. Harbaugh, 140 Captain Arizona. By Philip S. Warne. 207 Kentuck Talbot’«s Band. By Capt. Mark Wilton. 141 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. By E.L. Wheeler. 298 Trapper Tom’s Castle Mystery. By Ol] Coomes, 142 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. By Oll Coomes. yr209 The Messenger-Boy Detective. By Churles Morr's, 148 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. By Jos. E-}919 The Hunchback of the Mines. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. Badger, Jr. ~R211 Little Giant and His Band. By Philip S. Warne. 144 Little Grit, the Wild Rider. By Col. Prentiss Ingrabam. 212 The Jimtown Sport. By Edward L. Wheeler, 145 The Tiger of Taos, By Geo. Waldo Browne. 248 The Pirate’s Prize. By C. Dunning Clark. 146 The Cattle King. By Frank Dumont. 214 Dandy Dave, of Shasta. By T. C. Harbaugh. 147 Nobby Nick of Nevada. By Edward L. Wheeler. 215 The Denver Detective. By 01 Coomes. 148 Thunderbolt Tom, By Harry St. George. 216 The Cowboy Captain, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham 149 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner. By Charles Morris. 217 Bald Head of the Rockies. By Mnj. Sam, S. Hall, 150 The Mad Miner. : G. Waldo Browne. 218 The Miner Spert. By Edward L. Wheeler. 151 The Sen Trailer. Sy Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 219 Buck, the Detective. By Albert W. Aiken. 152 Dandy Darke; or, The Tigers of High Pine. By W. R. Eyster. | 290 Crack-Shot Frank. By Charles Merris, 158 Wild Frank, tlie Buckskin Bravo. By E. L. Wheoler. 221 Merle the Middy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 154 The Boy Trailers. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 222 Rosebud Ben’s Boys. By Ol! Coomes. 155 Gold Plume, the Boy Bandit By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 228 Gold Conrad’s Watch-Dogs. By T. C, Harbaugh. 156 Will Wildfire in the Woods. By C. Morris. 224 Frisky Fergus, the?New York Boy. By GL. Aiken. 157 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. By T. C. Harbaugh. 225 Dick Drew, the Miner’s Son. By Edward L. Wheeler. 158 Deadwood Dick’s Doom, By E. L. Wheeler. 226 Dakota Dick in Chicago. By Charles Morris. 159 Patent-Leather Joe’s Defeat. Py Philip. S. Warne. 227 Merle, the Boy Cruiser. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 160 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker, By Col. P. Ingruham. | 928 The Preacher Deteetive. By Oll Coomes. 161 Rob Rockett, the Cracksman. By Charles Morris. 229 Old Hickory’s Grit. By Jobn J. Marshall. 162 Little Murricane, the Boy Captain. By Oll Coomes. 280 Three Boy Sports. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 168 Deadwood Dick’s Dream. by E. L. Wheeler. 231 Sierra Sam, the Detective. By Edward L, Wheeler. 164 Tornado Tom. By T. C. Hart 282 Merle Monte’s Treasure. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 165 Buffalo Bill's Bet. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 288 Rocky Rover Kit. By Ensign C. D. Warren, 166 Will Wildfire Wins and Loses. By Charles Morris, 284 Baldy, the Miner Chief, By Capt. J. F.C, Adama, 167 Dandy Rock’s Pledge. By George W. Browne. 235 Jack Stump’s Cruise, By Roger Starbuck. 168 Deadwood Dick’s Ward, By Edward L. Wheeler. 286 Sierra Sam’« Double. By Edward L. Wheeler. 169 The Boy Champion. By Edward Willett. 287 Newsboy Ned, Detective. By Charles Mortis. 170 Bob Rockett’s Fight for Life. By Charles Morris. 288 Merle Monte’s Sea-Seruper. By Col. Prevtiss Ingraham, 171 Frank Morton, the Boy Hercules. By Oll Coomes. 239 Ben's Big Boom, By Capt. Mark Wilton. 172 The Vankee Ranger. By Edwin Emerson. 240 Sharp Shoot Mike. By Ol! Coonws. 178 Dick Dingle, Scout. By Edward S. Ellis. 241 Sierra Sam’s Sentence. By Edward L. Wheeler. 174 Dandy Rock's Scheme, By G. W. Browne. 242 The Denver Detective. By T. C. Harbangh. 175 The Arab D tective. By Edward L. Wheeler. 248 Dutch Jan’s Dilemma. By Maj. L. W. Carson, 176 Will Wildfire’« Pluc By Charles Morris. 244 Merle Monte’s Disguise. By Col. Prenti s Ingraham, 177 The Boy Commander. By Cot. Prentiss Ingraham. 245 Baldy’s Boy Partner. By Edword S. Ellis. 178 The Maniac Wunter. By Burton Saxe, 246 Detective Keen’s Apprentice. By Charles Morris, 179 Dainty Lance ; or, The Mystic Marksman. By J. E.Badgor | 247 The Girl Sport. By Edward L. Wheeler. 180 The Boy Gold-Hunter. By T. C. Harbaugh. 248 Giant George’s Pard. By Buckskin Sam. 181 The Senpegrace Son, By Charles Morris. Ready October 10, ~ 182 The Dark-Skinned Scout, By Lieut. Col. Hazeltine. 249 Ranch Vob’s Wild Ride. By T. C. Harbaugh. aa ‘ Ready October 17. “188 Jabez Dart, Detective. By Ol Coomes. “ 3 3 _—— 144 Featherweight, the Boy Spy. By Edward Willett, 250 Merlé Monters Eardon: <By:Col. Evnsminsreaay -185 Bison BUll, the Overland Prince, By Col. Prentias Ingraham, | gx4 phe Deaf Detective. By Edward Willett. 186 Dainty Lance and Wis Pard, By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. Ready October 31. “wT 187 The Trapped Tiger King. By Charles Morris. a z 188 The Ventriloquist Detective. By Edwara U. Wheeler. Isqued Every Wednesday. : ewe 189 Old Rocky’s Boys. By Maj. Sam. S. Hall. f Beadle’s Pocket Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five —~190 Sim Simpkins, Scout. By ames L. Bowen, cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt.of six cents each. w191 Dandy Rock’s Rival, By Goo. Waldo Browne. . ~e 192 Hickory Marry. By Harry St. George. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 198 Detective Josh Grim, By Edward L. Wheeler. 98 William Street, New York, | " * i