Beadle's Pocket Library (no. 302) (1889 10 23)
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~ 8 Pilate ktelakale! Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams Price, No, 802, Bn a “oe, oo 93 san Oat ag New York. : Fiv e Conta. Vol, XXIV, Tl ia IA ~~ ~W . NSS “4 ail ih i Ni UHH ee “TAKE YOUR CHOICE: LEAVE MY HOUSE PEACEFULLY, OR GO OUT HEADFOREMOST|” CRIED THE RANCHER,
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2 Big Benson’s Bet, Big Benson’s Bet; OR, RITA’S LAST LASSO THROW. BY T. C. HARBAUGH, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ ARIZONA ALF, THE MINER,” ‘* BLADE, THE SPORT,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. A DAUGHTER’S OATH, ““HoLp up your hand, Rita, There, that is right. Now swear to love no man until you have avenged our wrongs. Heaven will pre- serve him for your stroke. I feel it. Years may intervene between to day and your hour of triumph, but, it will come. Swear to pay him for his crime. Swear in the sight of Heaven and by your dying mother to avenge your father’s blood.” “TI swear, mother! I will hate until I have accomplished my mission, Rita yourchild, will do her duty.” “TY can go with cheerfulness now. I have raised you for this hour, my daughter. I know you would not fail me.” “But you must live tosee my triumph, mo- ther. You shall—” “No! no! When morning comes, Rita, you will be motherless,” The little girl called Rita, scarcely eight, but beautiful as a fairy, fell upon the bosom of the emaciated woman who lay on a rough pallet in a poor cabin on the banks of the Rio Pecos, and kissed her affectionately. Night was fast closing In upon this scene, Not far away murmured one of Texas’s love- liest rivers, and from far beyond ils banks came the long how! of the wolf. Morning confirmed the mother’s prophecy, When the sun came up alittle girl whose dark eyes swam in tears, stood in the narrow door- way looking toward the east. Behind her on the pallet lay a dead woman, with the traces of a peaceful smile on her mar- ble face, and two hands crossed on.her bosom. “* Mother hoped that Romero would come be- fore she died, but he is not here. Something ng him,” Z hus spoke Rita in audible tones while she watched toward the eastern horizon from the cabin door. _ All at once she started visibly, and shaded her eyes with her hands while she continued to gaze. A dark speck seemed to be moving toward her across the plain that stretched eastward from Et cpanionod h f the motions of a rapidl loping horse, and presently resolved itself he swift steed whose saddle was filled with a man, “Tt is Romero!” cried the little girl. ‘* He comes. too late to hear mother speak, but I can tell him all she said. Not one of her last words will ever leave me.” The horseman was not long in reaching the lonely cabin, and, drawing rein before the child, he sprung to the ground, In person he was tall, well built, and had a swarthy face and piercing eyes of jet. His hat was a whitish sombrero with a silver band with fringe at the ends, and his leggings and jacket, the latter open in front, were rather fantasti- cally braided after the manner of wealthy haci- enda owners along the Mexican border. His step was airy and graceful for a man who no doubt spent much of his time in the saddlo, and he carried well his forty years, “« Waiting for me, Rita?” he asked, taking the child up in his arms and giving her a kiss before she could speak, ‘* Where is that good mother of yours?” 2 nstead of bursting into a flood of tears the lit- tle one glided from the man’s arms, and Jed him gently into the cabin. An instant later he realized all. ‘*T have come too late—too late,” he said stop- pin 4 suddenly and fixing his gaze on tbe dead, ‘Why didn’tI give Thunderbolt more spur? When did this happen, Rita?” * Just before the morning broke!” answered the child, ‘ I had watched all night and we both hoped that you would come.” “‘T should have been here, Why did I keep away?’ The man seemed to hate himself, “Come, Romero, Ido not blame you, and mother would not if she could speak,” said Rita quickly. ‘I can tell you all shesaid, Ican de- liver the message she left for you.” “Then out with it, child! We will sit here while you deliver it.” The man cast himself upon the low stool be- side the bed and took the girl upon his knee, “Tell me everything, Rita,” he went on, “You don’t know how dear your mother was to Romero,” j “Tn tho first place, Romero, she made me swear that I would pay him back for that crime which cut the thread of mother’s life.” “T knew she would do this, And you swore, child?” eT aids “T will help you keep that oath; nay, more, I will keep it for you.” ** You shall not do that!” and the child’s hand fell on the wild ranchero’s arm, “I will keep my oath myself. Do not forget this, Romero. Then she gave me to you, my friend, If you had been here she would have placed my hand in yoursand said; ‘Take my child, Romero, and train her for the work she bas before her.’” “Won't I do that, though?” cried the man, his eyes eg with wild enthusiasm, ‘* Your mother has given me a mission, too, Rita, [ am to train you for your work, Ah! I know how to do tbat!” The little girl then proceeded and in her child- ish way described her mother’s death. Not once was she interrupted by the bronzed Apollo of the Texan border, who eagerly drank in every word as it fell f-om her lips. Whenever he glanced at the dead, his hands would close, and under bis bandsome black mustache he would clinch his teeth. ““T don’t know where he is, but we will find him!” he exclaimed at the conclusion of Rita’s narrative, ‘It was the most fiendish murder that ever took place in this land, I will never
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Big Benson’s Bet. 3B forget the night, Rita, I had ridden to your father’s house to see him, but he was not at home. Your mother, who stood in the door waiting for him, greeted me with a smile and bade me welcome. We waited together. After some time we heard a horse coming toward the house, I knew Santa’s gait, and your mother’s eyes sparkicd as she told me that her husband was coming. Two minutes later Santa halted before us, but the saddle was empty! Your mother gave one wild shriek as I sprung past her to the horse, ‘She has since told you what I found, child— a lasso leading from Santa’s saddle to the grass behind him, and at the end of that rope a dead man—your father! J stood there for a moment, thunderstruck. You were a babe then, asl ep in your cradle bebind the door, When I undid the rope and carried your father to the house, I fouud your mother calm, I laid the corpse be- fore her and swore that Romero would take ven- geance for the dead, I seemed beside myself, I knew it was no Apache job. In the midst of my wild oath your mother stopped me and with a uick glance at you, said; ‘No more, Romero, have a ckild for that work,’ I let her have her way.” Oi am glad you did, Romero,” said the child, ‘You know that we have preserved the terrible witness of that night’s work?” ““ Yes, but I have not seen it for a Jong time.” Rita slid from Rornero’s knee and went to the head of the bed. Stooping at the white face that pressed the pillow, she drew from beneath the bed-coverings a coil of rope, with which she came back to the rancher’s side. ‘* This is it!” she exclaimed, holding the lasso up while her eyes flashed, ‘‘ This is the rope father brought home that night. "You used to say that you knew its owner, and mother knew him, too.” “T krew the miscreant!” shot Romero through clinched teeth, as he rose and clutched the lasso, “ Gods! I would have noosed him with it long ago if you had not stood between me and justice, my child, I burned for revenge, but your mother always held me back and pointed to you, I will learn you how to cast the lasso. You will prove an apt scholar, I know. The border knows that I can cast the noose as well as I can shoot. I will make you my equal, Rita.” *T knew you would, Romero, for I havesworn in secret that this fatal rope shall throttle the devil who used it nearly eight years ago.” The lasso was returned to its place, and the man and child turned to perform the saddest duty of all. We need not say that it was tenderly done, The sun was setting on that eventful day in Rita Mayne’s life, when a large, dark horse bearing two persons was halted in front of a somewhat stylish house for the locality. Tt was the home of a well-to-do rancher, whose broad acres, dotted with herds, trended far away on every side. The man who had guided the horse to the lace, leaped upon the porch that ran the whole ength of the house in front, and then lifted a child to the floor, ; He left the steed and bore the little one into the house, where he seated her in a chair that stood in the middle of a room, for the border, luxuriously furnished, ‘* You have never been here before, Rita,” he said to her, with a smile. ‘This is Romero’s home and yours, too, I am glad to share it with you—glad for your poor mother’s sake,” “ How kind you are, Romero; but [ will not trouble you long. To-morrow I want you to teach me how to use the lasso I have brought along. Not for ome moment am I going to for- get the mission I have to perform. wa will find me a willing pupil, and when you have taught me all, I will go out and find the man who made my mother a widow!” CHAPTER II. NINE YEARS AFTER. “Sranp from under! I’m ther only genuine an’ original Brazos Bombshell, an’ I bain’t got an equal in the kentry. I kin chaw up any man what cau’t chaw up me. I’m neither fur, fin ner feathers, but the world’s only Big Burly Benson, ther Brazos Bombshell, an’ when I ex~ plode thar’s always somebody burt,” It was nine years after the events described in the foregoing chapter that the language just recorded fell from the lips of a man who would kave commanded attention anywhere and .in 5 kind of a crowd, e stood in the middle of a ring which had been formed by a number of wild-looking men, among whom was a fair sprinkling of New- Mexicans. A few rough-looking cabins visible bere and there made up what was known as Coyote City, on the edge of the Llano Estacado, cr Staked Plains, The man himself was a striking specimen of the border athlete, a little more than six feet in height, with wonderful broad shoulders, and powerful arms, His face was the darkest seen there at that time, and the mass of raven hair that touched his shoulders lent it a hue still swarthier. He wore no hat, that article of head-gear, a well-worn sombrero, lay at his feet; he was dressed only ina heavy dark brown shirt and buckskin punts, the lower ends of which were hid below the capacious tops of his boots, The belt that girt his waist carried his arma- ment, two heavy revolvers, one on each hip, and a bowie whose buck-horn handle suggested a great length of blade. “Pm not exactly sp’ilin’ for a fight,” he went on, seeing that nobody answered his first out- burst. ‘‘But ’'m proud to inform Coyote City thet I never refuse ter accommodate the man what wants one, Yes, sir; I’m tho only poe Benson in Uncle Samuel’s corral, an’ when take a notion ter pass in my checks, ez 1 may do some day, thar’ll never be another, I’ve fought Injuns an’ grizzlies from Californy to ther Wichita; ve opened Mexicans all over Greaserdoni, an’ Pve knifed, shot, whipped an’ lassoed from: Oregon to the Rio Pecos! ma bombshell with less than a two-second fuse, an’ when you fool with me you fool with sart’in death! Who'll walk inter ther re to-night! Ther fuso is veady, gentlemen, an’ I'd jest ez soon hey somohedy tech it off ez not.”
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let me explode in genuine style. Big Benson’s Bet. TT The listeners exchanged glances and a few smiled ; but no one offered to accept the des- perado’s challenge, Tn truth, they knew the man. All along the wild Texan border of a few years ago everybody knew Burly Benson. He had a name for courage and daring that put to shame the deeds of the most noted bor- der heroes, It was a habit of his to alight suddenly in a town, and with a wild whoo» attack the popu- of he wold challenge en masse for a ot the border towns alone would bs thus visited, but the very strongholds of the red skins. There were well-authenticated stories of his dare-devil acts in the villages of the Apaches and Comanches, where he had appeared like a flash and whipped in the twinkling of an eye ~ most powerful chiefs the tribes could pro- uce, He was tolerated along the border because of bis recklessness and great strength, Nobody dared to meet him band to hand, and with knife, lasso and revolver ho was every- body’s superior. For two years prior to the present visit Coyote ry) had not seen the’Brazvs Bombshell, e had been heard of in other places, now com- pelling some New Mexican stock-raiser to sur- render up his best horse, an! now coming out best in a human ‘shooting-match” away up on the Colorado. Big Benson was migratory, and wherever ho went he was pretty certain to spill blood, or tighten a lasso, Coyote City had never taken kindly to him, not that its people were any too refined to tol- erate his company; but they hated to have to be cowed by one who seemed to find pleasure in lord- ing it over his fellow-menas the prince of deadly bid hi along the Texas border. “Nobody hyer ter accommodate me, eh?” con- tinued Big Benson, addressing the crowd that surrounded him in Coyote City. ‘* Then mebbe I'd better move on to whar I kin git exercise.” He picked up bis hat and balancing it on one of his bronze fingers sent it spinning around with the other hand. “* Tl find some wolves thet ll fight afore I git to Loredo, mebbe!” he said suddenly. ‘‘ I’ve got myself worked up to sucha pitch thet I must hev a tussle, Why don’t somebody say thet ther Brazos Bombshell is tilled with wet powder? ’m nearly sp’ilin’ fer some scrub ter make thet kind ovaremark, Id just like to chaw ’im up an’ then sit down on’im till his mother wouldn't know ’im, I would, by jingo!” Big Benson threw around upon the crowd a look of disgust as he stopped twirling the hat and crushed it upon his head, * Good-night, boys! When I come ag’in just Two weeks ago the Brazos Bombshell walked inter ther big Apache village an’ shook old Boiling Water till he thought a grizzly had *im, Oh, I’m liable to go off any time. When I git to Loredo, t’other side the plains, I’! create a sensation in Greaser- dom, I hevn’t met a high-toned Greaser fer six months,” The crowd made way for the terror of tho border and he passed through it whistling a de- fiant air. More than one hand crept instinctively to leathern belts, aud fire flashed from fifty eyes; but that was all. Not a revolver was drawn, and not a band lift- ed against the desperado, “Big Benson thrilled me as I was never thrilled before,” said a young man _ looking up into the face of the person who stood at his side, a person almost the Bombshell’s equal in phy- sique. i Thrilled you?—how, Dasher?” *“*T can hardly explain, but do you not re- member what he said about lassoing men from Oregon to the Rio Pecos?” ‘I do, but what of it?” “Tt went through me like a knife—that boast.” “Why shonld it, Dasher? I suspect that Ben- son told the truth, for if he hasn’t lassoed as many men as he has horses, then I miss my guess.” “* And he is permitted to live?” “ Yes,” “Td like to ask him a question.” ** What about?” “ About a certain man who was lassoed in the Rio Pecos country once.” “Don't. Keep that question to yourself, Dasher. Don’t interfere with what may be one of tbe Bombshell’s secrets. When you fool with him you fool with powder, He's going to bezin a journey to-night which I wouldn’t un- dertake alone, and I claim to have some grit.” ~ “Oh, yes; he said be was going to Loredo,” ** Across the Llano Estacado, It is a death journey, but nobody knows that better than the razos Bombshell,” “Which road will he take?” “The most dangerous one you may be sure; that’s his custom, “The Southern trail, then?’ “Of course. But, look here, Don’t you try to find out anything about the man lassoed on the Rio Pecos, not from him at any rate, Let him go, Coyote City was confounded lucky to get rid of him without losing any of her citizens, Don’s make yourself bis victim, Dasher. Thar’s one who would advise you as 1 have done if she were here.” The youth called Dasher was not more than nineteen. His physique was faultless, and his face was quite handsome with its ru Idy com- plexion and deep-blue eyes. Those eyes had followed Big Burly Benson almost to the confines of Coyote City and had quitted his form with regret. ‘“ What's that Captain Monte has just told me? I must not fool with the Bombshell because it has, according to its own boast, a two-seeond fuse? Why didn’t Benson keep certain things to himself to-night, then? Why did he boast that he had lassoed men from Oregon to the Rio Pecos? I'm going to ask hin a question, I a care if my question sets the fuse on re, Dasher hurried away and saddled a horse which be took from the corral at the edge of the town,
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| Big Benson’s Bet. & Coyote City was, as we have said, on the edge of the Llano Hstacado. Across the vast stretch of dangerous soil stood Loredo, the New Mexican village toward which the Bombshell had proceeded, To meet Big Benson beyond the border town was Dasher’s desire, and his steed bore him swiftly away. Tbe youth knew the southerly trail; he had traversed it once with a number of companions, and be knew, too, where grew the only clump of trees between Coyote City and the end of the first twenty miles, He urged his horse toward this place, and twenty minutes after leaving the Texan town, he drew rein under the boughs, An examination of the trail told him that Burly .Benson had not passed the spot, and turning his borse’s head toward Coyote, Dasher waited for his prey. Ten minutes had not elapsed before he heard the rapid gallop of a horse. : “The Bombshell comes,” he said, ‘‘ If Monte were here he’d see me light the fuse.” With eagerness and determination depicted on bis countenance, Dasher waited for his man. At last be saw the approaching horse, and then the burly figure that rose above the Mexi- can saddle, The Brazos Bombshell soon reached the trees, “ Halt, Brazos!” Instantly the desperado reined in his steed, and bis revolver clicked as he leaned forward, ‘* Hol! a boy!” he exclaimed, ‘*Do you want an escort ter Loredo?” ‘*No,” said Dasher, “Then don’t light the fuse ov this bombshell, but git out ov ther road,” “ When I have transacted my business with you, Brazos, not before,” was the quick reply. ‘Iam here to ask you a question.” *“*Mebbe you'd better not. I’m not gentle ez awoman to-night. Coyote City backed down an’ I’m r’iled yet. But go on.” “JT will. You said back there that you have lassoed men from Oregon to the Rio Pecos. Why did you name that river?” ** Because I did my best noose-throwin’ thar!” Dasher started. “Then do you know who lassoed Major Marion Mayne?” There was no reply to the question for a mo- ment. Dasher fancied that Big Benson’s eyes caught she glitter of the stars that studded the heavens above, “*Ho! ho! what ef I do know, boy?” he sud- denly cried. ‘ Warn’t it a good job? That’s a funny —s from you, hat’s yer name?” “ Dasher.” ‘“* Whar from?” * Coyote.” The eyes of the Brazos Bombshell regarded Dasher intensely. “Then go back to Coyote an’ don’t fool with jumpin’ lightnin’, which is me!” “But you lassoed Major Mayne?” “Why do you want to know?” “‘] know already. You can go to Laredo,” Dasher pulled his steed to one side, _ “Look hyer, youngster,” and Big Benson leaned toward the youth with cocked revolver, ‘You've smoothed this tiger the wrong way. You hey put a match to ther fuse. Noman stops the Brazos Bombshell an’ lives, What war thet Teyan majo ‘to you” “Time will tell!” was the reply. ‘* You las- soed bim—that’s all I want to know. One of the-e days the Brazos Bombshell will burst for good, It bas been sworn that your neck shall be encircled by the noose that strangled him, That noose is ready now!” A strange cry burst from the Bombshell’s throat, and the next instant he was listening to the hoof-beats of Dasher’s horse on the way to Coyote. CHAPTER III. THE COMANCHES’ SWOOP, A BEAUTIFUL day-dawn on the Texas plains, Not a cloud mars the serenity of the morning sky, and the air is fresh and filled with the scent of wild yellow flowers. Across the plain rides a young horseman who is continually urging his steed to greater speed as if desirous of reaching a certain goal within a given time, ‘he horse and his rider give evidences of having traveled the greater part of the night just tie * On, a little further on, and we will rest,” says the person in the saddle, ‘*I am the bearer of glorivuus news to her! I have madea dis- covery that will make her eyes flash, and send the blood hot as boiling oil through her veins, He is found at last! Gods! I wish I could make you understand this, horse; then you would go like the wind, and we should be there in thirty minutes more,” Thus speaks the rider to his horse as the hoofs crush the golden blossoms to the earth, and chase away the first bees that have sought them All at once the young man starts and fixes his eye on severaldark specks that move along the sky far away. “*T wonder what attracts the carrion-birds in this part of the country?’ he exclaims, ‘I never saw them gather so fast before, There must be a feast for them somewhere on the plain, The air will be dark with pinions ere ong; but thank Heaven, you, Rita, are safe on Romero’s ranch,” The speaker keeps his eye fixed on the hun- a of birds that sail and swoop some distance abead, His horse is rapidly carrying him to the spot where death has spread a disgusting banquet for the scavengers of the air, “Canrit be that they hover over the old ranch? [I will not believe it!” and be strikes his horse with spurs already bloody, and is borne forward as if lashed to a monster rocket, From the summit of a pretty rise he catches sight of a house partly shaded by a number of stately trees, Above it circle the birds he has watched for along time. There are hundreds of them, and hundreds of them have settled in a rlch pasture just beyond the dwelling. “My God! what brings the vultures to Ro-
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mero’s ranch?’ bursts from the young rider’s lips. ‘‘In the name of Heaven, what has hap- pened here?” Down the hill flies the foaming steed to be reined in at the porch that extends the full length of the house in front, and the youth leaps from the saddle. A single bound carries him beyond the door that stands open, but he balts in the room which he gains. * Romero! Romero! where are you, senor!” he cries, The echo of his own words is his only an- swer. Everything in the room is in a topsy-turvy condition; it looks as though a tornado had passed through it. Tne tables have been broken, chairs crushed, and pictures ripped from their frames and cut to pieces. ‘here is not one whole article of furniture in the room, The young rider rushes into another apart- ment; he seems to know sometbing about the interior of this ranch home. The scene that greets him in the next chamber is similar to the one just left—everything de- structible has been cut to pieces. He shuts his teeth hard and mutters an oath of vengeance, as he jerks open a door and springs up a stair, covering three steps at a time, “Rita, Rita! If the devils have harmed you, woe to them!” he exclaimed, He opens a door at thehead of the flight, and with blanched cheeks looks into a room, A glance would tell any one that it is a lady’s boudoir; but what a sight greets the young man’s eyes! The elegant dressing-stand lies on the floor, literally hacked to pieces, the mirror has been shattered, and the dainty couch broken up, The lace curtains of the windows have been torn down and jerked into threads, and knives have ripped up the lovely carpet designed only for woman’s tread, The youth surveys all this with eyes that fairly blaze with rage, “T have come too late! Rita, they have car- ried you off. Romero should have known that his home was a rich prize for the greedy Co- manche. I always feared that this day would come. And to think that it came before I could announce to Rita my important discovery! It is too bad! Woe to you, infernal red-skins, for this devilish swoop! I will wrench Rita from your grasp; I will free Romero if he still lives! ou have paved the way toa day of wrath and vengeance, for I have sworn that Rita should find the man who lassoed her father on the banks of the Rio Pecos, Vengeance for this raid first!” Need we say that the speaker was Dasher? All night he had galloped from the spot where he had met the Brazos Bombshell on his way to Loredo across the Staked Plains, He had given his horse no rest, and yet he reached the hacienda, or ranch, too late to be of service to its inmates, our old acquaintances Rita and Romero, The condition of the appointments of the Big Benson's Bet. EN 8 8 ee SE Ee a ee eS tS house told him that he stood on the scene of a Comanche raid, Those red Arabs of the Southwest seldom spared anything belonging to a person whom they hated as it was known they hated Romero the rancher, It was a wonder that they had not given the buildings to the flames, “By Heaven! the red wolves shall pay for this!” grated Dasher, leaving the house, ‘Of course, they carried off the horses, but it will do no harm to look,” He went to the stables wherein Romero al- ways locked his blooded stock at night to keep it safe from the red raiders, A wire calculated to sound an alarm ran from the stables to the house, but it had been discovered and cut, Dasher threw open the doors, to be greeted by a horrid stench that almost overpowered him, The horses had not been taken, but lay in their stalls with their throats cut. Dasher did not pause a moment there, but made to the pasture-grounds, frightening scores of vultures by bis approach. He met the very sight he expected to see, Hundreds of choice cattle had been wantonly butchered by the revengeful demons; the poor beasts lay everywhere, a sickening sight, and one that appealed for vengeance, Dasher looked a minute and then galloped back to the bouse, He reined in his steed before the porch again, and was about to dismount when a horseman rapidly approaching from the south met his e e. of My God! it is Romero!” burst from his lips. F “ Can it be that he knows nothing of all this? Keeping his eye on the approaching horse- man whom he awaited at the porch, Dasher tried to frame a suitable welcome, but he could not. The swift rider was Romero, the rancher, not exactly the same man whom we saw take care of little Rita nine years before, but a person with a gray mustache and many whitening threads among his long locks. Then his hair was as dark as the raven’s plumage, now it was thickly sprinkled with gray. ; But his figure was as erect as usual, and his eye keen as the eagle's, He fixed his gaze on Dasher as he came on and halted beside him at the porch. — “ Heavens! They came at last, did they” he said. ‘I have been to La Lornita, Rita, Rita, where are you?” He sprung across the porch, and entered the house, Dasher heard a mad oath escape his Jips; then a person went up the stair. Tho youth waited ten minutes for Romero’s return, but he did not come, Not a sound came from the house, “T'll go to him if he will not come to me!” cried Dasher, springing from the saddle, He bounded up the steps again, and entered the desolated boudoir, but shrunk back with a sharp cry. Amid the ruins of Rita’s little room sat
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Big Benson's Bet. xs Romero with his head between his hands, over- whelmed. The full extent of the Comanche raid had not burst upon bim until he discovered that Rita was missing; Rita, the little one whom he bad taken from a dead mother’s bosom, and loved and trained for vengeance, He seemed unconscious of Dasher's presence; the youth’s exclamation bad not startled him, Dasher retreated to the threshold, but stood respectful there, waiting for the crushed rancher to recover, Five—ten—fifteen minutes passed away, but Romero did not stir, “*T can’t wait here for all time,” cried the im- patient youth. ‘*I have work to do, If he is not dead, I will bring him to his senses.” He stepped forward and laid his hand on the rancker’s shoulder. At the touch Romero leaped up as if stung by a serpent, His countenance was horrible to look upon. It was entirely colorless, and his eyes pos- sessed the wild stare seen sometimes in the eyes of the mad, ‘Rita 1s gone, Romero,” said Dasher; ‘* but she is not lost. Remain here and wait for me. I know but two words now—rescue and re- venge |” Romero sprung forward and seized Dasher’s hands, “I trust you, boy!” he cried. ‘Rita, my Rita, has been carried off-by the Comanches just when I was about to send her on that trail she has yearned to travel. It has been found at last—at last, Dasher, My ! Tam weak asa child Ah! this accursed blow! Go, Dasher. T exact no oath from you. You will find Rita! You will restore her to my arms; you will help her avenge the past.” ‘T will! I will! I swear it, Romero!” The youth disengaged himself from the rancher’s grasp, and sprung down the stair. A wild spring carried him across the porch, a leap settled him in the saddle, and with a thrill- ing cheer that must have startled the grief- stricken man in the room above, he gave his horse the crimson spur, The next instant he was flying from the house, swearing anew that he would wrest Rita from the clutches of the Comanches, CHAPTER IV. KEEPING HIS PROMISE. “Tw back again, ther same old magazine thet left hyer fer Loredo about two weeks ago, Had a time since? Bet yer hats! Them Greasers touched the fuse off, an’ yer ought ter hev seen ther old shell explode! They'll not hev sech a time ag’in in Loredo till I go back. Whoop! I’m ther Brazos Bombshell, achin’ to be trod on, Whar’s ther boy?” Big Benson surveyed from the back of a mag- nificent cream-colored steed the crowd of bronzed men by whom he was surrounded, He had come back to Coyote as big as life, and in his own language, ‘‘sp’ilin’ for a ele “Don’t none of ye know whar thet boy is?” he continued. ‘“f mean ther chap what stopped me on ther road ter Loredo, I want ter inter- view him, want ter tell *im thet I’m ther p’ison- ous individual in Texas. Ain’t he hyer?” “If yon mean Dasher,” said Captain Monte, “he isn’t in Coyote just now.” * Dashert. That’s his orthodox handle, is it? He’s somewhat ov a dasher, too, strikes me, Whar is he?” “*T don’t know.” ‘““Mebbe Vl find ’im movin’ around. Ef he comes back hyer afore I do jest tell im thet I’m filled with dry powder an’ thet I’ve cut the fuse to a half-second length, Blame me! ef I’m goin’ to be stepped on by a boy; no, siree! not while I’m the only genuine an’ original Brazos Bomb- shell. I’m no sham, Men, alligators and griz- glies, know thet ’'m worse than jumpin’ light- nin’ when I'm r’iled. Dasher, eh? al, ’m a smasher, lam. Move on, Comet.” The crowd gave way as it always did when the Texan desperado wanted to proceed, and he left Coyote singing a wild song in a voice totally devoid of any melody. Captain Monte, the best friend young Dasher had, watched the Bombshell for a few moments, “The boy did just what 1 told him not to do —he stopped Big Benson,” he said to himself. “Now, if they meet there'll be a tragedy. Why don’t somebody rid the border of that villain? He’s been having it all bis own way long enough. Why don’t you do it, Monte? Men used to call you brave: you used to fight duels in Colorado Camp years ago. Have you lost your grit?” Monte of Coyote started at his own question. Big Benson had passed from sight, for the night had fallen again, although the sky lcoked like a diamond-field. Monte did not claim to be in any sense of the word Dasher’s guardian. A strong friendship existed between the two. Nobody knew how it had commenced, but all Coyote was certain that nothing less than death would end it, After a minute’s silent study, Monte mounted a horse, armed himself with two pistols and a Coyoter’s inseparable adjunct when in the sad- dle, a lasso, and rode slowly from the town, if the people feared the Bombshell while in the place, there was one, at least, who did ~ fear to follow him out upon the boundless plains, “To protect Dasher—-that’s my mission,” wus all Monte said as he rode away. Dasher! Where was the boy? Near the clese of a fair day nearly a week after his swift departure from the desolated ranch of Romero, a youth might have been seen leading a horse up a narrow trail that wound round a hill in the country of the Co- manches, The cen sides of the rise were well wooded, but the trail, an Indian foot-path, was quite easily followed, and the youth at last reached a point from whence he could look down into the valley that lay below. Dasher—for the crawler was Coyote’s youn- gest citizen—knew that he was near the great camp of the Comanches, that he could, from the spot he had just reached, look down into the camp of the red eagles who had swooped down upon Romero’s ranch, destroying everytbing destructible excepting the house itself,
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Big Benson’s Bet. Jf he was young he could trail, and the track of the destroying demons had been followod from the doors of the rancher’s dwelling. ** At last!” exclaimed Dasher in tones of tri- umph as he gazed down upon the tepees of the red-skins, ‘‘ Romero is waiting for Rita in the old home, and I have sworn’to fetch her back, Iam here to do my duty.” The Comanche camp lay at bis feet, He had never seen it before, but he knew that it was lorded over by Red Crest, one of the fiercest and bravest war chiefs of the Centaur Nation. But why did Dasher start immediately after his first glance downward? The whole village seemed to be in commotion as he could see iu the few minutes of daylight still left. Scores of mounted Indians met his eye, and each was armed only with the lasso which the Comanche knows how to use so well. But Dasher saw more than Comanche braves. He saw a sylph-like figure that occupied a horse in a group of chiefs—Rita! She was not bound; her limbs were freo and theic movements unimpeded. What did it mean? “They've made her a queen of their tribe, maybe!” ejaculated Dasher. ‘* Rita, the White Queen of the Comanches! How would that sound?” While Dasher looked he saw the Comanches form a mounted gantlet line some forty feet wide, It extended the whole length of the vil- lage more than a mile long. All at once a yell from the westernmost end of the gantlet startled Dasher and he caught sight of a horse riderless and unbridled rushing down the line, ; Suddenly a young Comanche followed him, a lasso in his right hand. “They're having some amusement, that’s all,” said Dasher, watching the Indian. ‘ By Jove! I'd like to show them what [can do with the noose!” He saw the noose leave the Indian’s hand as he chased the unbroken horse down the line toward him, and an exclamation of admiration on from his lips as it settled over the animal’s ea Shouts of applause rewarded the young buck for his victory; the captured horse was taken back with triumph, and the operation repeated, “They are going to let Rita fling the rope!” Dasher suddenly exclaimed. ‘' Gods! I wish I could let her know that I am here,” His desire to acquaint the girl of his nearness almost drove him to his feet, but he restrained himself, and prepared for an emergency. He saw Red Crest lead Rita’s horse to the end of the line from whence the lassoer had ridden after their victims. She uncoiled the rope at her saddle-bow, and waited for the signal. Rita was far away, more than a mile, but Dasher’s keon eyes noted every move. Suddenly a shout from the Comanche’s throat announced the trial of skill. A second later there burst into view beyond the gantlet a splendid coal-black horse, whose limbs denoted symmetry and strength. Rita was seen to watch him narrowly as he came on, i) All at once he passed her like a rocket, Red Crest shouted again, and the black horse had a pursuer, For Dasher it was a sight that made his blood tingle with excitement, His elevated position showed him all. Down the line came Rita and the wild steed, the latter trying to escape the lasso which the fuir girl eid, Suddenly, when in the center of the line, Rita rose in her stirrup, and the lasso circled about her head. ‘*Make a good throw, girl!” cried Dasher. ‘* You will have to lasso more than a horse by and by!” The lasso left the girl’s hand, and shot after the careering steed, Dasher heid his breath. Even from bis position he saw the black noose hover over the wild victim’s head for a second, and then drop down upon his ample shoulders! As the lasso struck, Rita’s horse planted his fore-feet in the earth, and the insnared black was brought to his haunches in the twinkling of an eyo! A yell that made the welkin ring applauded the girl’s victory, but the next instant a shout of a different kind was heard. Rita’s horse was holding his prey no longer, but was bearing his rider like a cannon-ball on down the Indian lane. Dasher sprung up and threw himself upon the back of his horse, “It is my chance! Rita has made a break for liberty. She shall succeed!” The Indians did not fully realize the girl’s ac- tions until she shot from the living lane with a look that proclaimed her purpose! F She was beyond the gantlet in a second, rid- ing like a queen of the saddle, and so fast that her horse’s feet hardly seemed to touch the ground, Dasher saw that if Rita kept the course that lay directly before her she would skirt the base of the hill which concealed him. 2 “Tl help her pow. They have started in pursuit!” he muttered, 3 Roused by Rita’s look and onward ride the Comanches were swarming after her, beaded by no less a chief than Red Crest, whose powerful horse had unhorsed a dozen chiefs ere he gained the head of the chase. : The girl did not look back; she knew that they were behind her, Dasher turned his steed’s bead toward the bottom of the hilland gave him the spur. | Down he went at a perilous gait, plunging here and there almost on his head, but man- aged to keep his feet, “ Heaven, let me get between Rita and those red devils!” he exclaimed, ‘I have found the man she has sworn to run to earth, Let her live to pay him for his brutal cast in the Rio » Pecos!” j . The distance between Rita and the yelling Comanches when she reached the foot of the hill was not great, not more than sixty yards. All at once Dasher, standing upright in his stirrups, dashed into this shortening space, cel | SEE a eG
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SS S__—_—_—_—_——— De > . The Indians saw him the moment he struck the trail. “Tam here for Rita!” rung from his lips in trumpet tones, and wheeling upon the red Centaurs as he guided his steed after the girl, he began to empty two revolvers into their faces. He played the border weapons with a quick- ness that would have startled an expert, and with his face turned upon the enemy he shot to kill, and kill he did. More than one Comanche blanket lost its owner during the next two minutes, and when Dasher turned toward Rita he had lengthened those sixty yards into six hundred! His horse bore him rapidly toward Romero’s ward, who had Sinekened the speed of her racer and a cry of joy burst from his as he came alongside, ‘Dasher! Thank Heaven!” cried the girl. ** T recognized the voice of your pistols. Where have you been so long?” ** Looking for your father’s foe. And I have found him, Rita!” The girl almost stopped her horse. “IT thank you, Dasher; but I wish you had let me find him,” she said, ‘** My discovery was accidental. self away.” ‘© What does he call himself now?” “Big Burly Benson, the Brazos Bombshell.” “Ts he the man?” cried the girl, turning to Dasher an astonished countenance, ‘ at will Romero say when he knows that?” ‘* He already knows it.” “Tt must have astonished him, But we must outwit the Comanches, They will give us a long chase. Red Crest does not relinquish a captive tamely. After escape, then for Big Ben son, ** No, the old ranch first.” ‘* Well, have your own way,” smiled Rita. “ Tf Big Benson is the man he was doomed nine years ago.” Dasher did not reply for the Com- anches were close behind them, The chase was not yet at an end. He gave him- CHAPTER V. COWED, ROMERO the rancher stood on his porch with an anxious face turned toward the west. ‘The boy should be here by this time. He has had time to find Red Crest and his captive. Ab! maybe the Indians have played the best hand, forget that Dasher isa mere boy, not so well up to Comanche cunning as bis elders, I may have to take the trail yet. If I do, woe to you, Red Crest, for tfie blow you dealt me and mine while I was absent. There was fire in the depths of Romero's eyes and he began to pace the porch with ma strides, Although nine years had passed since he had carried Rita, a child, from the grave of her mother, his eyes had not become dimmed, nor hig well-knit frame lost one iota of strength or agility. e could still lasso the wildest horse that crossed the Texan plains, and fill a saddle with the ease that characterized his youth, Big Benson’s Bet. 8 Well might he grind his teeth and curse the war-chief of the Comanches, We have seen what Red Crest had done, in- vaded his ranch, demolished his furniture, killed his blooded stock, and, worse than all, carried off Rita, lt was enough to make Romero's eyes flash, and send him back and forth over the porch mut- tering of vengeance, All at once he sent an eagle glance across the stretch of rich pasturage that lay before him to- ward the southwest. No herds tkere now, no coal-black stallions, bis favorite color, rushing with arched neck and gleaming eyes through the luxuriant grass, ** Curse them! curse them forever!” he broke forth, clinching his hands, “I will wait no longer! I will show Red Crest and his red raiders that Romero is a demon of revenge.” He was turning back into the house when he stopped abruptly, and fixed his eyes on an object which had sudden:y come in sight. * At last! Dasher comes, but by heavens! he is alone!” Romero’s keen eyes had told him that the ap- proaching object was a horseman, and that he was heading for the house which he had doubt- less seen. Advancing to the edge of the porch, the rancher continued to regard the horseman, still believing that it was Dasher returning without the Comanche’s captive. * Tt is not Dasher!” he exclaimed, as the man urged his horse over the pasture-field, ‘' Great God! it is Big Benson.” The identity of his soon-to-be-guest was now established, and from that moment Romero re- garded the man with a scowl that darkened his face. He did not desert his post until the Brazos Bombshell reined in bis steed not five feet away, and bade him the time in his sonorous tones, It was evident that the two men had met be- fore, although the acquaintancesbip was not of that kind which produces friends, “ Heard the red Greasers had paid ye a visit, an’ thought I’d call an’ sae at ther damage,” said the desperado, ‘‘ By Jehosophat! but I’d like ter explode among ’em, Tm Ser only Bra- zos Bombshell, in first-class condition, I’m as pisen as I used ter be, Romero, What did ther skunks do?” Romero grated his teeth before he spoke. “They struck me pretty hard,” he said. An’ ye’r’ goin’ ter strike back with interest, eh? Draw on me, I’m sp’ilin’ fera fight—jest dyin’ ter be tramped on by a Comanche. Red Crest’s work, eh? Wal, he knows ther Bomb- shell, I caught ’im by the throat once an’ shook his moccasins off, I baven’t seen you fer years, Romero, but I’m yer pard in this settlement if ye say ther word. You ant me would make a team thet would make Texas feel proud. What d@ yer say?’ And the Bombshell leaped from his horse and landed on the porch in front of Romero, upon whose shoulder his dark hand fell as he finished. The rancher recoiled from the touch as if a viper had touched his hand, and the eyes of the fwo men met,
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10 Big Benson's Bet, Burly Benson was the rancher’s superior in strength, but not in courage. “T never asked any man to help me,” said Romero. ‘What I cannot do alone shall be left undone,” Don’t want a pard, then? Won’t take me, eh?’ was the retort which made the speaker’s eyes flash. ‘{’ve come to the wrong man. thought from what I’ve heard thet jest now Romero wanted a pard,” * T want none,” ‘All right. I beg pardon fer disturbin’ ye. They didn’t tech yer ward, did they? Iheard—” A stride carried Romero to the edge of tho porch from which Big Benson was about to re- mount his horse, “Come and see,” he said. ‘*I will show you what they did.” “Tl do thet, Romero.” And the Brazos Bombshell followed the rancher into the house. Romero showed him first the rooms below still littered with broken furniture, not one piece of which had been disturbed since the Comanches’ departure. Benson burst into explosions of rage in each room, and cursed the red raiders in a voice that might have been heard in the wide pasture- fields beyond the house. With a curious light in his eyes the rancher led his guest up-stairs and suddenly threw open the door of Rita’s boudoir, “The bird’s nest, eh?’ instantly exclaimed the Bombshell, pausing on the threshold, ‘Say ther word, Romero, an’ ther Brazos Bombshell will burst right ia the Comanche camp. They didn’t spare your ward a chair, eavens! They struck you hard.” A quick stride carried Romero to one corner of the room and stooping over a lot of wrecked furniture he drew forth something which he whirled upon the Texan. **They overlooked this!” he exclaimed, hold- ing out for Big Benson’s inspection a black lasso whose length seemed extraordinary from its copious coil, From the first sight of the lasso the eyes of the Bombshell became fixed upon it. Romero’s orbs seemed to laugh while they re- garded him, “ They left thet lasso, did they?” suddenly said the big ruffian, ‘‘It used ter be ther best coil ov rope in Texas!” ‘*What!” exclaimed the rancher. ‘Do you recognize it?” “Wal, IT reckon I do! Many’s ther time I’ve swung ther noose ov thet cord over my head, Whar did you git it?” T found it.” “Whar?” Romero’s eyes glittered, * In the Rio Pecos country, Did you lose it there?” * Wal, I reckon.” “ Was it carried off by a horse?” ** In one sense ov the wordit war. Queer thet you should find it, an’ thet Red Crest’s sharp pers should overlook the best lassoin Texas. ion’t Tlong ter throw ther old noose ag’in, though? My fingers itch ter cast it once more. Let me feel it in my hands ag’in, Romero,” and Big Benson put forth one band for the lasso, but . rancher, the next second it was flung over the rancher’s shoulder, and fell in the corner from whence it had just been taken, i rg Brazos Bombshell shot Romero a mad ook, “ What does thet mean?” he said, ‘* That the lasso remains here.” ** Tt’s mine,” “Tt is not, It belongs to one who has a better claim on it than he who lost it years ago” ‘* Romero,” said Benson, trying to beat down his anger, ‘‘ you must not forget who I am.” “‘ Nor what you were, then /” was the quick response, as the eyes of the rancher returned the Bombshell’s Jook with interest, Big*Benson’s right foot glided toward Romero, and he threw a look at the lasso which seemed to precede a spring for its recovery. ‘Pll take thet rope, ef you please,” he said, ‘‘ Ther Brazos Bombshell is in ther habit ov takin’ his property wherever he finds it, Therefore, Romero, I’ll thank ye fur that noose,” The insulting manner in which the bully spoke sent the rancher’s blood boiling through his veins, ; “« The rope stays where it is. Neither you nor any man can have it.” Quick as a flash Benson’s hand shot toward © his belt, and as he stepped nearer Romero, he whipped out a revolver, ; “My lasso! I’m worse than a thousand griz- zlies when I’m stirred up. Ther Brazos Bomb- shell is ready to explode. You touched off ther fuse, Romero, My noose, er yer life!” Not an inch moved the man in whose heart there was no fear for any human being. The blazing eyes of the Bombshell did not make the rancher quail. ‘You want your rope—I say you can’t have it! re-echoed Romero, in determined tones, “You may terrorize Coyote, but there stands before yon one who fears you not. I wouldn’t shed a drop of your blood for all Texas.” “Why not?” roared the desperado, “Because it is not for me to shedit. The lasso that lies behind me you can’t have just now, The time is not far distant when it will be restored to you!” “T want it now!” The next instant Romero’s hands struck the Bombshell’s shoulders, and he was forced across the threshold of Rita’s room before he could re- sist in the least. The rancher was a giant in strength, and he backed his burly visitor to the head of the stairs, “Take your choice: lefive my house peace- ably, or go out head-foremost!” be cried, ‘TI won't fight you. I don’t want your help to find Rita, She'll find you one of these days, maybe, Go!” He seemed to read the lassoer’s thoughts, for he relaxed his grip. “Pm goin’, Romero, but not for good!” he cried. ‘You've stepped on ther Bombshell, You've burned ther fuse almost to ther powder, Thet rope I’ll hev if it costs me my life.” “Can’t you wait?’ scornfully smiled the “You'll get it before long,” >.
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Big Benson’s Bet. There was no reply, and glaring at the man who stood firmly between him and the coveted prize, the baffled Texan went sullenly down the steps. Stalking across the porch, he threw himself into the saddle, and shook his fist at the house. ** No peace between us, Romero!” he exclaim- ed, ‘* Pll hev more than that lasso, Dll hev re- venge an’ yer ward besides, In spite ov all I told you, you forget thet [ am ther Brazos Bombshell.” CHAPTER VI. THE FIGHT IN THE SADDLE. Nigar was falling over the Texan’s hacienda when Big Benson galloped from the porch, He went through the pasture like a charging cavalryman, nor drew rein until he reached the bank of a small stream some miles beyond, “Thar’s one man in Texas what won't scare worth a cent,” he said aloud to himself, ‘I found thet out to-night. He talked as if he knew who I used that lasso on last; but how could he? An’ what do I care ef he does know? Mota wouldn’t smile on Burly Benson when he made love to her fairly, but took up with the major. I told her thet [ could lasso a man as well as a horse, an’ didn’t I prove it to her sorrow? It war nine years ago, I wonder what ever became oy taer widow an’ her kid? The gal ought to be a full blossom now, an’ ef she looks like her mother used ter, she’s a daisy.” The murmur of the Texan stream was the only noise that fell upon the desperado’s ears, It flowed around his horse’s feet, for he had srmitted the steed to quench his thirst and cool is limbs. Beyond the stream, as behind him, lay some level country, over which the night was falling, but objects could still be distinguished at a. goodly distance. When the horse had slaked bis thirst, the Bombshell guided him across the stream, and went on his way, Not far behind him rode a man who seemed to be on bis trail. It was not Romero, nor Dasher, but one who was known in Coyote as Captain Monte, We have seen Monte follow the big brute from the Texan town, resolved to protect his eons protege, Dasher, against whom he be- ieved the Bombshell had evil designs, Although Monte had not followed Benson closely all the time, he knew that he had just peid Romero a visit. The man from Coyote appeared to know that the Bombshell bad quitted the ranch in high dudgeon, from the way in which he scoured across the plains. Had the ruffian, by visiting Romero, discov- ered Dasher’s whereabouts? Monte was fearful that he had. Keeping the Bombshell in sight, Captain Monte also crossed the stream, and followed after him. The horses made no noise in the rich, soft grass of the land beneath their hoofs, and the two men moved away at a rapid gallop. The eye of a person used to the Texan plains becomes wonderfully acute; after dark it seems it “ to possess the vision of the owl, and Monte’s many trails at all hours enabled him to keep the Bombshell in sight when thousands would speedily have lost him. ** I’m follered, by Jehu!” suddenly ejaculated Benson. ‘* Romero's not goin’ ter let me depart in peace, Ill make it interestin’ fer him with- out Joss ov time,” He reined in his steed and wheeled about so uick that he caught the exclamation of surprise that fell from his pursuer’s lips. “Follerin’ ther Bombshell, eh? Wal, I’m hyer! Thar’s no better place on earth fer us ter meet than this. I hope ye’ve brought my lasso along, fer Pll take it now,” A smile flitted across Monte’s face. ‘He doesn’t know me,” he said to himself, “T never had his lasso, I wonder what he means?” With his last words the man from Coyote age his grayish sombrero over his eyes and kept on, From under the brim he saw that the bully was watching him, and waiting impatiently for his coming up. All at once Monte’s horse stopped alongside the Bombshell’s steed, and his left band threw back the rancher’s hat, “My God! Monte!” burst in tones of astonish- ment from Benson’s throat as he recoiled from the face thus suddenly revealed, ‘© Who did you expect to see—Romero?” was the response. “Yes,” was the quick confession, “Won't I answer just as well?” “ No! you won't fight me!” was the sneering taunt. ‘ I’ve been to Coyote too often.” ** You never tried me. We are not all cow- ards there,” _ Monte’s eyes blazed like white-heated globes of iron. He leaned forward as he spoke, hissing his words, which made up a challenge, into the Bombshell’s very teeth. ‘¢ My mother never bore a coward!” he grated, “The man whe charges her with that infamy lies ! more, he shall not live!” Faced thus by a man of whose near presence ie had not dreamed, Big Benson made no re- ply. He stared into Monte’s face, which was the picture of batred and defiance. ‘“You want the boy—take me/” continued the man from Coyote, ‘I have sworn that ‘ou shall not touch one hair of Dasher’s head. Why don’t you talk, you miserable snake of the plains? Where’s your tongue? It is Monte talking to you—Captain Monte, who brands you as the biggest coward in Texas!” Was not this enough to stir the blood of the veriest poltroon on earth? 5 “ An’ Lam hyer, knife an’ all!” in thunderous tones, and the glitter of the stars flashed along the blade of a twelve-inch bowie. With the knife clutched in his right hand Big Benson rose in his stirrups and leaped at Captain Monte’s breast. ** You've matched the fuse, Monte!” he cried, ‘¢ No man calls me a coward an’ lives,” The reply was the darting of a hand at the arm about to drive the bowie downward, for
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i2 Big Benson’s Bet. eS ee eS es EEE Se Captain Monte had sprung erect, his keen eyes catching the Big Texan’s every move- ment. Down came the blade, driven with tremen- dous power by the swarthy villain, but a hand clutched the wrist and stopped it in mid- air! The shock almost precipitated Monte from his seat, but he held on and flashed victory from his eyes at the desperado. “ Coyote bids you good-by forever!” he hissed. “You will never touch the boy, for the knife of Monte rids the plains of you!” There was the gleam of another blade in the soft Texan starlight—a blade not as long as the Bombshell’s—and hard upon its descent rung out a wild cry that pierced the night. The twelve-inch bowie dropped from Big Ben- son’s hand and struck the shoulder of his horse which went off like a rocket! Captain Monte released the wrist in time to prevent being dragged from the saddle, and turned to see the terror of the Texan frontier hanging from his stirrups as the mettled horse bore bim on! The meeting and the fight in the saddle had not occupied the length of time it has taken us to record them. “You'll not be bothered by the Texan bully now, Dasher,” remarked Monte, ere Burly Beu- son disappeared. ‘‘ He discovered to his sor- row that: Coyote—poor, bullied Coyote—hel one man who feared him not. I’ve sent him to the vultures of the plains, and I appeal to heaven for approval of my deed.” Monte threw up bis band as he finished, and his words seemed to come back from tho stars with an echo that pleased him, After a while he gathered up the reins and turned his horse’s head toward the southwest. He could go back to Coyote now, Ah! if be could have pierced the space into which the Brazos Bombshell bad been borne, he might not have galloped toward Coyote with the confidence that inspired him. He had struck to kill, but had his bowie ful- filled his purpose? Time will tell CHAPTER VII. THE RECAPTURE. Wiruin five days after Big Benson’s visit to Romero, a change took place at the rancher’s house, Romero's countenance did not wear the anx- ious look it had lately worn, for Rita had come back, accompanied by Dasher, who had assisted her, as we have seen, in her escape from the Comanches. Many reminders of the Indian’s visit to the ranch still remained; the desolated pastures tol! a woeful story, and the broken furnilure showed where the rad tornado had passed. “Dasher has told me that _he has discovered the doomed assassin,” said Rita to her band- some guardian one evening, as the twain occu- pee the porch before the house.“ And I think @ also said that you knew bim, too.” Romero looked at his beautiful ward and smiled. - “Did Dasher say that?” he asked, “Ah! I! might have known that he would mention it. But, why have you not broached this subject peer) my pet? You have been home two days, anda-— “Pardon me. I have kept silent, fearing that Dasher’s news was too good to be true, Then I was waiting for you to speak of it. Tell me, Romero—is the man called Big Benson the fiend I have sworn to kill?” The rancher looked up into the face of the girl who had glided to bis side, and his arm stealing around her waist, drew her to him. “ He is the man,” he said. ‘* While you wero gone he visited me.” Rita gave a start. “What! Benson, the murderer, here?” she exclaimed. ‘Tn this house, child. He saw the lasso,” *« And recognized it?” ~ “a Yes,” * And wanted it?” “That he did.” “* What did you tell him?” “T bade him have patience, promising that it should be returned to bim before long.” “ Good! [ will redeem your promise, Romero!” cried the girl, her eyes kindling with a revenge- fullizht. ‘* Why was not I here when the vil- lain came?” ‘Tf you kad been hero he would not have vis- ited the ranch, What a splendid opportunity I had to avenge your wrongs, Rita! I could have rid Texas of its greatest bully.” “ But you did not?” ““T did not. It was no trouble for me to keep my hands off of the Brazos Bombshell, because I thought of the sure revenge time will take,” “Timo and Rita!” was the response. “ Romero, now that tho trail is hot why may I not take it? You can teach me no more; you acknowledge that. You say that I can shoot as well as any marksman in Texas, and as_for the Jasso—you declare that I can out-cast Romero, the monarch of the noose! Letmego. I cannot rest here knowing, as I do, that Big Benson is my man,” The arms of Rita encircled the rarcher’s neck and her dark eyes made up an appeal which was hard to resist. “ T have never crossed you in anything, girl. I never will,” said the grizzled rancher. ‘* You wanted to learn the use of rifle and revolver and it became Romero’s joy to learn you; you want- ed to be able to sit a wild horse and cast tho lasso, and you cannot say now that you have not mas- tered all that.” ‘“No, A thousand thanks to you, Romero,” The old rancher’s eyes beamed proudly. When would you go?” he asked, “Now! ‘The old home seems a prison to me.” “You shall go—to-morrow,” was the reply. “With daylight you sball begin your hunt for the terror of the Rio Pecos, You have always requested that you should hunt him alone, will not interfere; but you will let me set you on his trail, girl?” “Yes, ves, Romero, but beyond that?no man shall go.” “T submit. Where is Dasher?” “He went back to Coyote.” “ What do you think of Dasher, child?”
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| The question so directly put made Rita start; Romero’s look was riveted upon her. “There! don’t ask me now,” she said cour- ageously. ‘‘ You have not forgotten my oath. No love is to turn me from my purpose, I am now to think of it until I have fulfilled my vow. Dasher will not be gone long, but he will not find me here when he comes back,” Baffled in his attempt to obtain Rita’s feelings for the young man, who was her only youthful acquaintance, Romero, relapsed into silence which the girl did not try to break, After a while she slipped from his arms, aud Snpringet on bis forehead a kiss that roused im. “ Good-night, Romero,” sho said, cheerily. “Tam going to bed. To-morrow ere the sun rises we will be off!” and followed by the old ranchero’s smile Rita bounded away, leaving him the sole occupant of the porch, For a moment he sat with face turned toward the door beyond which Rita had disappeared, and then he started up like a man startled by a strange sound, “Tt is going to be so—I know it!” he ex- claimed, ‘For some time past I have noticed a resemblance. Would to Heaven it would turn out thus, I must see Captain Monts, I will go to Coyote when Rita has departed,” The rancher’s ward thinking only of the trail of vengeance she expected to strike on the morrow, went to her little boudoir whose back window looked out upon a shed roof in the rear of the house. Ere she retired she drew the fatal lasso from its hiding-place and regarded it with flashing eyes, fs We go together to-morrow morning!” she cried, addressing the coil, ‘* You have encir- cled my father’s neck, infernal cord, and you shall soon do your destined work, Your days are nearly numbered, Burly Benson, The little girl who swore on the bank of the Rio Pecos to hunt you down is on your trail at last. Romero has taught her the uses of the lasso, and she is capable of catching the wildest horse in Texas. Vengeance takes a mighty step to-morrow, Rita will keep her oath to the letter!” The beautiful Nemesis did not see the suake- like eyes which from the thick foliage of the tree that bent over the shed were fastened upon her with a gleam of triumpb. The night was warm and she <id not close the window, but putting away the lasso, sought her couch to dream of the morrow, In a short time not 1 sound was heard about the house, A silver crescent hung itself in the cloudless skies, and myriads of stars made the trees cast a heavy shadow over Romero’s home, Suddenly there was a movement of the foliage of the tree behind the back building, and a hu- man figure crept forth and began to drag itself across the roof. Once in the starlight, it developed into an In- dian, lithe of limb, but well muscled, and with eyes that fairly blazed. : ‘ His crawl was entirely noiseless; he gained the window, paused a moment and then crept into the room, As if he possessed the eyes of an owl, he went Big Benson’s Bet. 13 straight to Rita’s couch, and, quick as a flash, his hands swooped down upon the sleeping girl. There wasa start and a slight waking cry, but the Comanche suppressed both, **Not a word, Texas Flower!” be said threat- eningly. ‘‘Red Crest has come back for you, that is all.” Red Crest himself! The prospect before her was enough to frighten Romero’s ward into insensibility. Resistance in the arms that encircled her was quite useless, and she was carried mute over the roof beyond the window, and dropped with her captor to the ground below. Then she saw that the young chief of the Co- manches was not alone. ‘Here, take Texas Flower!” commanded Red Crest, handing his captive to another Indian who glided toward him from the body of the tree, and Rita changed hands. Red Crest went back toward the house, and Rita saw him stoop at the foot of the shed, “Great heavens! the wretch is going to ap- ply a match to our home!” flashed across her mind. : That was just what the Comanche was about 0 do. A minute later he reappeared at Rita’s side, and took her from the arms of his companion. Where he had stooped was a flame which was increasing in volume, and inashort time the house would be doomed. Rita thought of Romero sleeping calmly just beyond the fire; his danger roused her to ac- tion. All at once she dashed Red Crest’s hand from her mouth and a wild cry pealed from her throat, but before it ended the red hand was back again, The Indians now left the burning house, A few yards away they found two Indian horses upon whose back they sprung, ‘““White boy no get between Texas Flower and Red Crest this time!” ejaculated the red- skin as the steed dashed away, ‘Red Crest and his brave will watch for bim, and if he ag his scalp will hang in the Comanche’s ge.” The horses seemed to possess the speed of the wind for ina few minutes they were beyond the limits of Romero’s vast possessions, All at once Red Crest reined in bis steed and wheeled toward the rancher’s home, The horses had gained the summit of a rise from which in the daytime a magnificent view of the surrounding country could be ob- tained. “Big fire back yonder,” said the chief, pp his naked arm toward the south, ““ White berder’s house burn well,” A shudder ran through Rita’s frame. She could not avoid seeing the fire that looked like a blazing star on the dark horizon, yet she vac that it was not a star, but Romero’s ome, The red tongues of flame leaped heaven- ward, blotting out, as it were, the stars over- head, and adding a terrible emphasis to the In- dian’s vengeance, “You'll get your dues for all this,” suddenly cried Rita, loo! ing into Red Crest’s face,
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H i | iN as Sr ee ee POSER AF BF =. “Who'll pay the Comanche back?’ said the grinning chief, ‘ Will the white herder’s ashes follow Red Crest and strike bim?” * Romero may not, but there are others, You forget me, and—Dasber!” The Comanche’s answer was a smile of de- fiance, and then sending up a thrilling whoop he turned his steed about, and sent him on once more at a furious gallop, The fire disappeared beyond the hills left be- hind, but Rita could not help thinking of the new disaster, the one which fate had placed be- tween her and the beginning of her bunt for the Brazos Bombshell. Red Crest was proud of his triuthph; this time the Texas Flower, as he called his captive, should not escape. All through that eventful night the Comanche rode across the Texas plains, and the sun came up toshine on the white face of the fair girl who had dropped asleep in his arms, “Took, Red Crest!” suddenly exclaimed the chief’s companion, pointing to theright. ‘‘ Does not the big yellow lassoer approach us?” Red Crest looked over the outstretched arm a moment and then started. A man was riding toward them from a point on their right—a man with a broad-brimmed sombrero and embroidery on his Mexican jacket. “Tt is tho yellow-skinned boaster,” grated Red Crest, fire flashing from his eyes, ‘* We must meet him, Long Arrow; but watch him close. Woe are two; he is one, He shall not have the Texas Flower.” Meanwhile the man thus suddenly discovered was rapidly nearing the red-skins who regarded him with lowering looks from the back of the horses, Rita now awake saw him, too, and while she looked a strange gleam lighted up her eyes, All at once tue bariy rider straightened in his saddle and the next moment his horse halted di- rectly in front of the Comanches, “Pm a howler if this isn’t luck!” burst from his mouth, ‘‘Here’s Romero’s daisy ward in ther hands ov ther crack Comanche chief, I’m ther original Brazos Bombshell with a gash in my anatomy, but loaded to ther fuse fer all thet. Vl take thet prairie flower, chief. Hand ‘er over.” Red Crest instinctively drew back, but the next instant two revolvers were thrust forward, * Come! toss her over, er ther Bombshell will explode!” was the cool threat, CHAPTER VIII, ‘“*T AM META’S CHILD!” Wuat, give up bis beautiful prizo to a desperado who had bullied him in bis*own camp? Is it a wonder that Red Crest ground his teeth, and, clinging to Rita, shot Benson looks that seemed almost capable of killing? “What’s yer decision, chief? I can’t sit here waitin’ till I grow fast to ther saddle. Shoot off yer mouth an’ let ther Bombshell know yer in- tentions.” The revolvers still covered Red Crest and his companion; the moments were slipping away, Big Benson's Bet. 4 ‘Goin’ ter hold on to ther prairy daisy, eh? Then Vil begin!” The next second one of tho weapons cracked and Long Arrow brounded from his saddle, to strike the earth with a bullet in his brain, “*How does that strike ye?” demanded tho giant of Red Crest, ‘It’s not-worth while to tell ye whose turn willcome next. Shall I hev ther Texas Pink?” Brave as he was, the young Comanche chief valued life above all things. He knew that another moment of refusal would bring hima doom as terrible as Long Arrow’s, The cool eyes that looked over the Bombshell’s revolvers told him that the Texan bully was not to bo trifled with. ** Yellow face shall have the girl,” he answer- ed sullenly. ** Put her on the ground then.” With a countenance which told that he in- tended to play another hand in the future, Red Crest lowere 1 Rita to the ground and then faced the Bombshell again. “The most sensible Injin I ever saw!” ex- claimed the desperado. ‘ Ull take care ov ther daisy, chief. We’ve met afore, but thet’s nothin’, We'll git along in first-class style, Now move on er stay hyer, jest as you wish, Don’t foller this infant, if you please. When ther Brazos Bombshell explodes thar’s always somebody hurt.” All this while Rita stood where Red Crest had put her down, her eyes fixed on the man who had wrested her from her Comanche captor. Could it be that fate had soxoon brought her face to face with the lassoer whom she had sworn to hunt down and choke with his own noose? “This is a change ov masters,” said the Bombshell, guiding his steed to where she stood, and stooping down to lift her to a place on the saddle of Long Arrow’s horse, ‘I guess I don’t need any introduction, Everybody knows ther Brazos Bombshell, I’m not a chromo in a gilt frame, but, I am old business in more things than one,” Rita did not reply, for her look had become a stare; she seemed to be photographing Big Ben- son’s face and figure on her mind, Her thoughts went back to the home on the Rio Pecos, to the wild oath beside the dying mother, to her schooling under Romero’s eye, to the renewal of that vow a thousand tlmes in secret, and all against the fiend who faced her, whose captive sho was, She did not resist when the Brazos Bombshell lifted her upon the horse, and turned to the glaring Comanche. * Don’t look so mad—it hurts me,” he said to Red Crest, ‘‘ We're not brothers, but we ought- n’t to chaw one another up, I expect you'll try ter git even with me fer my mornin’s job; but it'll be a rainy day when yor do, Don’t touch off the quarter-second fuse ov this bombshell. It'll do you no good. Stir me up an’ I’m worse than a million earthquakes.” ; A moment later the two horses were flying over the plain, gazed after by the maddest Indian that ever filled a Comanche saddle, “Did they steal ye from ther ranch?” asked Benson, turning suddenly upon his captive,
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Big Benson’s Bet. 15 Yes, while T slept.” “Ther vipers! Whar war Romero?’ ‘* Asleep, too.” Rita shuddered as she answered. ** Did they wipe him out?” “Tm afraid so. Red Crest fired the house.” Big Benson made no reply, but the girlcaught his eye at that moment, and thought she detect- ed a secret triumph there, ‘They tell me thet yon kin cast the lasso,” he said, after a minute’s silence, ‘‘ ’ve heard ov you all over Texas, Whar did Romero run across you in the first place?” The girl started. “ My mother gave me to him, I believe, and he promised to bring me up,” she said, recover- ing. “‘'Thet’s ther way, eh? Wal, she gave Ro- mero a daisy, didn’t she? Look mein ther face jest fer a moment, little one, Thar! you hey eyes jest like a woman I used ter know.’ “ Ah P “ Byes jest like hers! don’t they? ‘*'Yes,” “T don’t know what she called her little girl. Mebbe Ill go back to ther Pecos kentry some day, an’ see what ever became ov ther pair, eet me back,” q They call you Kita, “Y 2s, because your eyes ar’ jest like Meta’s war, Rita could hardly control her feelings; the big brute was talking about her mother. All doubts had vanished now; she had found the right man! “Tll make him go on,” she said to herself, ‘*T will see if he dare confess the truth,” “So T look like Meta’s child, do I?’ she asked. “Did I say her child? No; I never saw it,” was the reply. ‘‘I say your eyes look like Meta’s,” **Meta who?” “Meta Doyle it was afore it became Meta Mayne.” Benson’s tone changed as he pronounced the lent name; it sounded like the hiss of a prairie viper, Yon did not fancy Meta’s husband, I see,” said Rita, catching his eyes. ‘*Not very much,” he smiled, ‘‘More than one man thought a heap ov that woman, but the one that got her didn’t keep her long.” “Why not?” “He died.” * At home?” **Not exactly that, but on ther road ter ther shanty. I hear that he wore a Texas collar when he reached Meta.” ‘He was lassoed, then?” ** Perhaps.” *¢ He had at least one murderous rival.” “Thar war one Texan who couldn’t stand by an’ see him live with the woman he loved. They used ter do thet way up in ther Pecos kentry, Mebbe it’s ther style thar yet. Idon’t know. I heyn’t been thar fer nine years.” ‘“Who threw the lasso over Meta’s husband’s head?” asked Rita, determined if possible to push the assassin to the wall. ‘They never found out an’ I don’t think any- body cared much, You see, ther major war one ov those gentlemen chaps what don’t take very well on ther Texan plains, tharfore nobody cared who noosed him.” “ You forget Meta.” “Oh, yes; sho took it ter heart ov course, Blamed éf she didn’t ‘pear ter think a good deal ov her Jim-dandy man.” With an effort the captive smothered the cry that rose to her lips, and tried to calm herself. They were riding slowly across a wide lain whose grass, reaching above their horses’ fet- locks, was still wet with dew, Suddenly Romero's ward leaned toward Ben-. son and her hand fell upon his arm, ‘You make me speak,” she said. something about Meta Mayne.” ** You?” cried the astonished Texan, ‘Yes, She is dead.” “Thet’s not strange, seein’ that many years hev passed since thet noosin’ night. But what ever became oy her girl?” ‘* She is alive.” ‘* By Jove! she must be a daisy!” Rita did not seem to hear the compliment. “That little child made fatherless by a devil’s noose has taken an oath to hunt the murderer down—to strangle him as he strangled her father,” she almost hissed, ‘¢ Mebbe she will never find the right man.” “She has found him,” “‘ What's his name?” “« Burly Benson.” “Then you—” “7am Meta’s child! Iam Rita Mayne !” The Brazos Bombfhell recoiled with a start- ling ery. a4 / “Great God! I told you from ther first thet you hed Meta’s eyes,” he exclaimed, staring at ita. ‘* Her eyes, and her dying words to nerve me for revenge!” ‘Not on this individual!” was the quick retort, as the desperado started up, ‘* So, you are Meta’s child? Wal, I’m glad it’s settled. She swore ye ter vengeance, did she—vengeance fer ther major’s chokin’# Thet’s how my lasso came to Romero’s house, He said he found it in the Pecos kentry.” “He did when he found me/” “T know was the bby be Bombshell’s discovery had made him rein in his horse, and Rita, who had also stopped her steed, was looking straight into his eyes, “Pll see about yer revenge, my Texas pink,” he laughed, suddenly. “Time cures many wounds,” “But not mine! I will keep my oath, As sure as God reigns, I will run you to earth!” * An’ lasso me, Rita?” “ Yes,” “Tm the Brazos Bombshell. No man has ever got ahead ov me; no woman shall. Be- ware, my pre ty tigress!” Rita turned and jerked from the knob that held it the Comanche lasso that hung on her horse’s shoulder. . Tt was well coiled and quite heayy as a wea- nD. Pen Take this in earnest of what?s to come!” she cried, whirling upon the surprised bully, and
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——= ES Fo Bas rae rt , f ESS See ed Sree FO THE ee a a ead 16 Big Benson’s Bet. before he could interpose a hand the Indian lariat was laid across his bronze face with all the strength Rita could summon to ber aid, A hoarse oath was forced from Big Benson by the blow which drew blood, for the coil seemed to cut like a knife. He reeled away, with difficulty keeping his seat, but the blow was not repeated. ** Your doom is sealed! I will keep my oath to the letter, and with the cord you wielded once, Iam Rita, the avenger!” Away went the girl’s steed as she finished, and glancing over her shoulder, she saw the terror of the Texas border sitting, statue-like and thunder-struck, where she bad left him, All at once a wild yell reached her ears, and she saw his horse plunge forward. She smiled as she watched him drive the spurs into his black steed’s bowels, but she did not fear him, She knew that she rode the better horse. CHAPTER IX. COYOTE'S WILDEST NIGHT, Tue second night after the occurrences de~ tailed in the foregoing chapter, there rode into Coyote City, on the borders of the Staked Plain, a horseman whose presence drew an ex- clamation from at least one man’s lips. **Great God! The Brazos Bombshell!” Big Benson’s face seemed to have grown a shade darker, bis eyes had a mean, mad look. It was evident that he had lost the beautiful prize he had wrested from Red Crest, the Co- manche, Rita the avenger had Hea apres him across the Texan plain, and this fact accounted ina measure for his abrupt appearance alone in Coyote. here was one man in the border “ city” who believed that Benson had invaded it for the last time, and he it was who uttered the exclama- tion just penned, Captain Monte had not forgotten the bowie- knife combat in the saddle, e believed that his blade had terminated the Bombshell’s career, and the story of that fight he had told to but one person—Dasher his vere From the door of his cabin Monte caught the figure of his enemy moving up the street, Instinctively he drew back into the shadows ie the threshold and watched him ride past. All at once some one sprung into the cabin, and a voice exclaimed: “You have been mistaken all this time! Benson is out there!” The speaker was young Dasher, “What vitality the Texan tiger has!” said Monte, ‘I would have sworn at the time that my bowie found his heart. Heaven knows I struck for it. Then, when I saw his horse drag him away md heels, I had a right to say *Gool-by.’ ‘Yes, I know he’s out there.” gue Monte shut his teeth bard behind the last word. * Are you going to meet him?” “T don’t know; it is owing to what he does. He mustn’t provoke me—he must not challenge me.. I think I know what brought him back to Coyote, We will see how he acts,” Big Monte, who was but half-armed when the Bombshell rode into Coyote, now proceeded to add a formidable bowie to his armament. ‘* Don’6 meet him!” suddenly cried Dasher, springing between Monte and the door. ‘ Let the Bombshell explode, as he calls it, and move on, Think of what 1 have told you. He be- longs to a young girl whom he has deeply wronged. Let her take vengeance. She will come by and by. She bas sworn to find hiw, and find him she will!” This appeal seemed to affect Monte; he leaned forward and looked into Dasher’s face, ‘** I know that Rita has the best right to him,” he said, ‘‘ but you forget that I am a hunted man now—that Big Benson wants Monte’s blood because Monte failed to kill him.” ‘*T forget notbing,” said the youth, quickly, “Stay back for my sake, I confess to you, Monte, that I love Rita. I have asked her to become my wife, but she reminds me of her, oath to love no man and not to think of mar- oe, until she has lassoed the Brazos Bomb- shell. * What if I should meet and slay him?’ “ Then I shall despair, for Rita will never wed,” “* Did she say this?” ‘* Yes, twonty times.” “ Then I stay here. Icould not face that bor- der grizzly to-night without baving a combat. { will not go out for your sake,” ‘Thanks, Monte, thanks!” cried Dasher, grasp- ing Monte’shand. ‘I will never forget—” “ Hark! what’s that?” The two men sprung to the door and listened side by side, “Tcame hyer ter meet Cap’n Monte! Trot im out!” they heard. ‘His knife warn’t long enough, an’ be didn’t hit ther right spot. Whar ishe? I’m loaded ter ther muzzle, I'll teach him that he mustn’t monkey with the band wagon unless he’s got a horn, Whar ar’ ye, Monte? Coward, sneak an’ border bum!” A mad oath shot from Monte’s throat, **Tt’s more than man can stand!” he grated. ‘Swallow it. Rita will pay him for it all,” said Dasher, at his side, and the youth’s hand was laid restrainingly on his arm, Monte bit his lips. “YT wonder if the Bombshell has a crowd around him?” he said. ‘Tl go and _ see.” Monte would have kept Dasher back, but the youth sprung away before he could be re- strained, and in a moment was out of sight, ‘Listen at the hound!” hissed the man left in the cabin, as he chafed at the door like a chained tiger. “1 am expected to stay here within hearing distance and swallow it all, just because a girl has sworn to run him down and lasso him. There he goes off again. That’s what he calls an explosion, I suppose. Curse me if I will listen.” : Monte shut his cabin door, and walking back through the darkness, threw himself upon his hard cot in one corner. He was afraid to trust himself longer at the door Test he could not control his passion. Five minutes away, and then the rest- less Monte rose and went to the door again, Pa Siar ai “4
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Rieti 4 ae Big Benson’s Bet. Y He threw it open to hear a new outburst of wrath from the loud-mouthed desperado who still tarried in Coyote, **)1l settle him. It’s more than I can stand,” he exclaimed, taking a lasso from the wall, He left the cabin and hurried toward that part of the town from whence the voice pro- ceeded, He knew that Benson had halted in the square, which, although it was not large, was regular and picturesque, On more than one previous occasion the Brazos Bombshell had halted there and relieved himself of some of the superabundance of mean- ness his soul contained, He always drew a crowd, for the citizens of Coyote, taken as a whole, could stand more bullying than the inhabitants of all the other Texas towns. With the coil in his right hand, Monte ap- proached the crowd by which the big ruffian was almost entirely surrounded, His step was noiseless, and his eye constantly on the lockout for his foe, At last he spied the Bombshell, sombrero and all. The burly brute stood erect in his stirrups, with cocked revolvers in his hands, heaping all manner of abuse upon Coyote as a town, and especially cursing Monte, one of its most re- spected citizens. “Yer border brave dar’n’t show his whisky- mug!” cried the Bomsbhell, ‘‘ He knows thet I’m worse than jumpin’ lightnin’!” “* That’s a lie!” ground out the man who had reached the rear of the crowd with the lasso ready for a cast. ‘In just one second I'll show you where Monte is.” The next instant the citizens of Coyote saw a lasso shoot toward the man on horseback, and an exciting cry burst from many lips as i set- Sea over the Bombshell’s head and was drawn igh’! % Heavens! it is Monte! He said he would stay away,” said Dasher starting forward as Big Benson was jerked from his saddle, his arms pinioned to his sides, and his revolvers rendered useless, Stand back!” cried Monte, to the crowd, whose weapons now began to leap forth, since the man whose bullying they had swallowed a hundred times, lay helpless on the ground. ‘* Don’t come near me, Dasher! I’m not going to kill this prairie-wolf.” Awed by Monte’s look and words, Dasher stop- ped and looked on. A single bound carried Captain Monte to the side “ig his victim, wHo recognized him with a growl. “Wal, yer knife failed t’other night!” he said. * Now yer’ goin’ ter try therlasso, Thet’s what ye call fair, Monte?” The man of Coyote made no reply, but kicked Benson’s revolvers twenty feet away. “ T don’t want your blood,” he said. ‘* You’ve got to leave Coyote.” “ Without a settlement with you, Monte? Ye’r’ a coward!” 5 “Oh, you can’t provoke me,” smiled Monte, “ Get up.” Benson sprung upon bis feet and threw a quick, covetous glance toward his weapons, iv ‘“*You can’t have them,” said Monte’s eyes, then he said aloud: ‘Will you leave Coyote if I give you lib- erty?” “Tsuppose T’ll hev to. You've got the drop on me ter-night. Give me my shooters.” “Tm no fool. You go without them.” ‘* Loosen yer lasso, then.” Monte obeyed, and as the noose fell at the Bombshell’s feet he threw his hand upon his horse’s neck. Another moment saw him seated firmly in his saddle, and the glance that he threw upon the breathless crowd was full of fire and de- flance, All at once he threw up his bronzed right hand and straightened in his stirrups, ‘* When I’m forced to leave I always come back on a tornado!” he shouted, ‘* When I come back ter Coyote thar’ll be an explosion hyer thet’ll shake all Texas, Blamed ef I don’t post yer town from the Cimarron ter the Gulf as ther place whar they breeds cowards and border bums!” This was too much, Rendered courageous by Monte’s example the crowd surged forward with revolvers and bowies drawn for the speaker’s life. ‘* Halt!” exclaimed a new voice and a youth- ful figure landed between the border ruffian and the Texans, ‘‘ Not while I am here shall Big Benson’s blood be shed.” ““Smash my picters! ef it ain’t ther boy,, Dasher!” cried the Bombshell. ‘‘ I know what he meant when he told me that a lasso war waitin’ fer me. He’s thet prairy daisy’s pard, an’ he thinks he'll save me fer her, Come hyer, Dasher.” The three last words were spoken in tones that reached the boy’s ears only, and having checked the maddened crowd, he wheeled upon the Brazos Bombshell, and then went forward. From under the broad brim of his sombrero Benson watched the youth’s approach, “I know what you meant thet night,” he said, leaning forward. ‘I’ve seen ther gal, I know who she is, an’— I'll take this, Dasher!” Quick asa flash the border rough darted at the revolver displayed in Dasher’s belt, and as he straightened on his saddle, Dasher started back unarmed! It was the fierce swoop of a frontier eagle. A wild light danced in Benson’s eyes as he wheeled toward Monte, Up went the revolver as Monte drew his own, then there was a sharp report, and Dasher’s best friend reeled away with a groan. Se asl grated Dasher, leaping at the Bomb- shell. “ Don’t, boy, don’t! I’m worse than death!” and training the captured revolver on the startled crowd, the ruffian began to shoot over Dasher's head into it. His rapid shots, every one of which took ef- fect, seemed to paralyze the men of Coyote, and with the seventh one he struck his horse savage- ly with the spur and was off. Dasher stood like one bewildered on the spot where Big Benson’s swoop had robbed him of his revolver. Already the desperado had disappeared,
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i] | if i Ms f ‘ ae Be Scammer ta = eons SRR LE Se eee sis Wier enn Sa ae Sa SSS St =F ae Suddenly the sound of a horse’s hoofs came from behind the boy. He turned just as the animal landed in the square, and a moment later the horse halted be- fore him, ** Who did this killing?’ asked the rider into whose face Dasher started, “ Big Benson,” ** Where is he?” “He went in yon direction.” “Then I will find the bully to-night!” and away went the horse, Dasher stared speechless after her. He knew it was Rita, CHAPTER X. MISSING HER MARK, ‘‘TaEyY thought they had me, ther fools! They knew they hadn’t when I exploded with ther dead drop on ther bull lot, hen I saw thet boy’s revolver I knew I hed a weepin thet would shoot, fer a chap with his eyes wouldn’t carry any other kind. I might hev dropped ther kid, but pshaw! he'll hurt no ope, Ob, I’m still ther Brazos Bombshell!” A lively wind blew against the ruffian’s hard- ened face, and stirred the raven hair that fram- ed it, In his eyes still shone traces of that light which flashed up in their depths when he trained Dasher’s pistol on the Coyote crowd, His voice had the ring of a desperado’s tri- umph, Tf he had drawn rein and listened intently, he would have come to the conclusion that he was followed. The avenger was on his trail. Rita plunged away after the border rough, Her horse was a well-limbed steed, swift as an Apache arrow, and as eager as his mistress to overtake the steed some distance ahead, The girl’s only offensive weapon, if weapon it can be called, was a black lasso that hung in its -place against her saddle. It was the same one with which Benson had choked her father, years before, The match which Red Crest, the Comanche, applied to Romero’s hacienda, as we have seen, had failed to destroy the instrament of venge- ance, The house had burned to the ground, but the roar of the flames bad roused Romero, who, rushing up to Rita’s room to save her, found nothing worth taking but the fatal cord, Thus the lasso had fallen once more into Rita’s hands, and she carried it at her saddle when she appeared so suddenly to Dasher in Coyote. z Coyote was soon left behind in the wild chase for a life, and burning to overtake Benson, the fair girl urged her steed to his utmost, Big Benson’s face was turned toward Loredo heyond the Staked Plains, but he had no notion of continuing his journey to that place. At last he drew rein, and strange to say, Rita, although a mile in bis rear, stopped at the same moment, : Benson had heard no noise, but the girl bad, From her right came the swift rush of several horses, ‘The Coyoters want him as badly as I do,” . Big Benson’s Bet. she said, when she had listened a moment, “But they shall not have him! I will see to that.” Rita was about to resume the pursuit when several ghost-like figures flitted past, on her right. ** Indians! — Comanches!” she exclai-ned. “They want him, too. Was ever a man so hunted before?” Sbe dashed ahead in the wake of the red- skins who had struck the big rider’s trail, and as she rode she loosened the black coil ready to her hand, All at once asbarp cry came back from the starlight ahead, telling her that the red Centaurs bad struck the game, Benson had discovered that he was followed, not by the men of Coyote, but by the Coman- ches who owed him more grudges than one, ‘We'll give ’em a race,” be said to his horse. ** By an’ by we'll treat their red necks to ther lasso,” Away ho went with the piercing yell ringing in his ears, and the Comanches thundering at his heels, The Staked Plain has witnessed a thousand races for life both in the glare of the sun and after dark, and the desperado chased by the rek-skins had participated in a number himself, The keen eyes of the Indians had spicd bim resting his horse after his ride from Coyote, and had announced their presence by the startling shout heard so plainly by Romero’s ward. She was pushing gallantly on. There was one horse which the red raiders had spared among Romero’s blooded herds, and she rode him now. A better steed never pressed the soil of the Staked Plain, and a more accomplished and ig rider than Rita had never mounted im. On such asteed she was likely to come up with the Comanches whose horses, in all probability, were not very fresh. Her plan was to pass them and hurl tho avenging lasso over the Bombshell’s head, then ride on, dragging bim at her horse’s heels through the scanty grass and cutting sand be- neath her, “Look down on your child, mother!” cried the girl. ‘I have found the author of all our troubles—found him at last. Nerve me for the task before me! Guido my noose to his head, for my heart burns for vengeance when I think of the past?” On, on, bearing. swiftly down upon the Co- manches between her and her prey pressed the girl, holding in her hands the slender cord, “Paster! faster! This is a snail’s pace!” she cried to her horse even then straining himself to his utmost, Her unloosed tresses streamed behind her like pennons, and her lithe figure, clad in a picturesque costume half masculine, set her off to advantage, All at once the Indians seemed to become aware that some one was pressing after them, Rita saw their ranks open; but they did not abate their pursuit. An exclamation of triumph fell suddenly , oe A
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& ee Big Benson's Bet. id from the avenger’s lips—she was among the Co- manches; another second and she had distanced them all! Yells rose bebind her. The red-skins saw that they were likely to be cheated out of their prey. In vain they pounded their horses, and paved in their ears; Rita’s steed bore her swiftly on. A few yards only now separated ber from Benson, What if he should turn and send a bullet through her body? The ranchman’s ward did not think of this, Rita’s eyes were full of victory when she saw her enemy straining every nerve, but al- most within reach of her lasso, He bad not recognized his new pursuer, but thought that the foremost one was the best rider in the Comanche nation—Red Crest, the young chief. “T have him now!” suddenly cried the girl, © Ah! Romero, if you could but see my re- venge!” She straightened in the strong stirrups with her eyes riveted on the human quarry, The lasso hung for a moment from her right hand, and then began to move in swift concen- tric circles around her head, All at once it left her hand and shct for- ward, Well might Rita hold her breath; the most important moment of her life had come. Never before was a lasso better aimed. Ro- mero had schooled her well, The fatal noose was settling over Big Benson’s head when Rita’s steed stumbled, and the next second she was flying through the air. The throw bad been lost! A burrow had baffled the girl on the very threshold of success. In her last moments of consciousness Rita saw the yelling Comanches rush past, then she fell back on the plain with a sensation of pain which seemed the precursor of death, She had distanced the Indians, got between them and Benson for what? To be tripped by a burrow in the sand, and to lose the man she bad almost run down, When the girl returned to consciousness her whole body was racked with pain, She had fallen heavily, and the wonder was that she had not been trampled to death by the Comanches’ horses, . The first object that met her gaze was her own horse standing near by. The steed in falling fortunately broke no limb, and was ready to serve her again, The lasso lay stretched out on the sand like a dark snake, and Rita seized it eagerly. “Tt isnot so bad, after all,” she said. ‘ Bi Benson has escaped by a miracle, but I will fin him yet.” At that moment the horse pricked up his ears, and looked toward the north, * Are the Comanches coming back for me?” exclaimed Rita, A number of horses were approaching— she could hear the pounding of their hoofs, Despite her crippled condition, Rita moved to her steed’s side and tried to gain the saddle; but in the effort, a dizziness overcame her, and sbe sunk back, exhausted. The next moment the horses came up, and she as the scalp-locks and war-paint of six Coman ches, “Where is Big Benson?” she asked the red- skin who stooped to pick her up, “ Him got away,” was the reply. Rita’s eyes kindled. ‘Thank Heaven for that!” she cried, CHAPTER XI. MONTE’S SECRET. Tue stumbling of Rita’s steed at the moment when her lasso was settling over the Bomb- ae head undoubtedly saved the desperado’s ife, The Comanches gave up the chase, and rode back to the girl, when Big Benson halted on the plain and threw his sombrero into the air with a shout of triumph. ** Didn’t git this pullet, did ye?” be exclaimed. ‘*T don’t more than half believe thet ther person what nearly lassoed me war a red-skin. I beard a wild ery as bis hoss struck ther burrow, Meb- be it war thet gal—ther prairy daisy what wants Benson’s life,” Instead of going back to settle his doubts, the Brazos Bombshell kept on at a gait that rested his horse. He left Rita to the tender mercies of the Co- manches, led, as he well knew, by Red Crest, ‘Them Coyote fellers monkeyed with ther band-wagon when they had no_ horns,” he cbuckled, as his thoughts went back to the bloody affair in .he square of Coyote City. ‘Pve settled accounts with Monte forever, an’ with ther boy's shooter, too. When the boys fool with this bombshell they nearly always gits hurt. [’marattler when I git mad. They all want me now. I’m the most wanted gentleman at this moment in ther hull State ov Texas,” and a coarse laugh sounded harshly on the night air. He was more than ten miles from Coyote; Red Crest and his Comanches had chased him one-half that distance, but they had given up - the chase, Ailat once Big Benson wheeled and faced the south again, “T b’lieve I'll go back,” he said.. ‘* What d’ye say, Thunderbolt? They’re talkin’ akont us down yonder, Back we go!” Once more the big ruffian was going toward Coyote at a gait which would soon land him within the precincts of the border town. “Halt! hyer we ar’!” he exclaimed, drawing rein and leaning forward to catch the import of certain voices the night wind bore to bis ears, He was not fifty yards from Coyote’s most northern boundaries, and the sounds told him that some of the inhabitants were still awake. By and by the sounds ceased without givin Big Benson any information, so he dismounted, and crept forward, his horse at a sign remaining stationary. He was guided to the first dark cabin by the - sound of a yoice couched in the tones of a wounded man near his end. For several minutes the Texas sport stood transfixed to a certain spot while the speaker’ went on. *Thet’s Monte,” he said to himself, ‘ I didn’t aw
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20 Big Benson’s Bet. quite finish him, an’ I’ve got back ter Coyote in time to hear his last words, Who's be talkin’ to?—ther boy, ov course,” A lengthy stride bad carried Benson to the cabin, and with eyes agleam with curiosity he was listening against the logs. The interior of the cabin was dimly revealed by a candle, as Bombshell could see by a crack which he found. It containe but two persons: Monte, who lay on a cot made on the floor, and Dasher, who sat at his side, holding one of his bronzed hands. * Dasher,” said Monte, “I'm getting to a secret I’ve kept for many years. Mebbe I wouldn’t tell it now if thet Texas devil hadn't used ther drop he got on me to-night. A good many years ago, Vasher, a lot ov Apaches raided a ranch that belonged to a young rancher who had brought his young wife to the place about six months before. They had one child, a boy baby, when the red-skins came, The wife was as brave a woman as Texus eversaw. Her husband was away that day, but she faced the Indians, and told them that she would shoot the first one who entered the house. She stood on the porch in front of the hacienda with a revolver in her hand and her black oo on fire, ** Well, Dasher, the most of those red-skins knew that she would shoot, but their chief made sport of her threat, and jumped from bis horse upon the porch. He had hardly struck the boards ere he fell back, shot clean through the head by the rancher’s wife, That started a bloody time. The bull lot of red-skins rushed upon the little woman and overpowered her, but not until she had got in three more boss shots. She was terribly mistreated, for when you stir upan Apache you rousea tiger. They jerked the baby from his cradle, and at first had a no- tion to throw him into the flames of’the hacienda; but they concluded to take him to the tribe and make a great, white chief of him. When they went away the baby went along. ‘*Thet’s what the Apaches did years ago, one September day. Now I’m coming toit. They gave the baby to a squaw, who undertook to raise him, One day a Texan war riding along a stream in the.Apache country, when he came across three little codgers playing in the water. One of them was a white boy about three years old. The Texan was a pretty wild chap then, and took a fancy to the white boy, so he got down, picked him up and rode off. That’s how the Apaches lost their future big chief. I guess Ba begin to guess who that baby was, Dasher. ell, Captain Monte was the Texan who took him from the Apaches,” A cry fell from Dasher’s lips, “And I am tbe rancher’s child!” he ex- claimed, ‘1 have often wondered how you ae to raise me, Monte, You have told me at ast. A smile brightened Monte’s countenance, ‘*Mebbe I shouldn’t have kept it from you so long,” he said. “And if Big Benson hadn’t shot to-night, I expect you would not have heard what I have told you. Your father—” “Yes; tell me about him, Monte!” interrupt- ed Dasher. “Of course, You'll want to go to him now, That’s right, You are not Monte’s child, but he hasn’t a i of blood he wouldn’t shed for you. When found you paddling in the water with the little Indians you bad a chain around your neck, which from some reason the red-skins had never taken from you. Attached to that chain was a locket. I’ve saved it for you, Dasher.” As Monte ceased he drew from his bosom a small pocket of soft buckskin, which he handed to the youth, With eyes full of curiosity, and eager fingers, Dasher began to undo the. packet, closely watched by Monte, whose countenance beamed with satisfaction. All at once Dasher uttered an exclamation of surprise, for he had brought to light a delicate gold locket, attached to a brilliant chain of the same material, “* Open it,” said Monte, watching him, The boy stooped over the candle and obeyed. For several moments he gazed at the picture he had brought to view, and then exclaimed: ‘* How beautiful she was! You need not tell me, Monte, that this is my mother’s portrait, I know it!” “She was your mother, boy. You would have found your father long ago, if I had not been so selfish, Icouldn’t think of giving you up. But you have met him often and he has never suspected.” “What! I have met my father? It cannot be, Monte!” “Ay, but you have,” said the dying man. **Dasher, my boy, look into my eyes and tell me that you forgive me for keeping this secret from you solong. I can’t die with it in my heart. Look at Monte, Dasher, and say some- thing. The dark-faced man at the crack saw Dasher bend over the man reclining on the cot, The faces of the twain almost touched. “T forgive you a thousand times, Monte!” said Dasher in tones that did not escape Big Benson’s ears. ‘‘I have been happy and I owe all my happiness to you.” The arms of Captain Monte went around Dasher’s neck; they drew the boy close to him. ‘* Mebbe your father will not forgive me, but since you have, I don’t care,” he said. ‘Go to him, Dasher—go this very night, and place the locket in his hands, It will establish your iden- tity, and you can tell him all that I bave said.” “T will not leave you to-night,” said Dasher. ‘* To-morrow—” “No, to-night—now /” was the interruption. ‘* You have obeyed me in all important things. I will be here when you come back—mebbe not right herein this shanty; but I’ll be in Coyote, Ta ke my horse and go to your father, Good-by, boy.’ But you have not told me his name,” said the youth, seeing that Monte did not proceed. “How funny!” and the man smiled. ‘tHe has but one name. I don’t think be ever had another. Men call him Romero.” Dasher sprung up with a cry. “Romero my father? My God! I never dreamed of this.” “I expect not,” said the man, who eyed him closely, ‘* Romero is your father, and in the
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= Big Benson’s Bet. 21 irl he has brought up you will find a sister, Dasher: if not more than that.” For several seconds the youth stood bewil- dered in Monte’s presence; he held the open locket in his hand, and his gaze wandered from Monte to it and back again. “«T will go!” he cried, rousing himself. ‘‘ I am anxious to meet my father, although he will never be able to take from you, Monte, one particle of my love. You have been a father to me, and when you get well—” Monte laughed in a manner that broke Dash- er’s sentence, “Tm not going to get well. All the doctors in Texas couldn’t patch Monte up.” ‘* Thet’s so,” grated Big Benson, at the crack. “Ef they war to, ’d pretty soon undo their work, So ther youngster knows his father at last! I always thought he warn’t yer kid, Monte. Thet’s right; send him ter Romero with ther locket, but mebbe he’ll never git thar. He’s not likely ter while 1’m around.” Five minutes later, having given Monte a farewell grasp, and heard his parting words, Dasher walked from the cabin bent on the un- expected mission, ‘What will Romero say?” he asked himself, in almost audible tones. ‘* And what will Rita exclaim when I reveal Monte’s well-kept sacret to her?” He passed on, seeing not the crouching figure at the foot of the cabin, nor dreaming of the glittering eyes that followed him, “Tl tackle yein a few minutes, my huckle- berry.” Having watched Dasher out of sight, and knowing that he was going after Monte’s horse, Brazos turned toward the occupant of the cabin and watched him with triumphant eyes, He knew that Monte, the man he had shot down in Coyote’s square, was near his end; he could see the death spasms chase one another across his face, “Td like ter tell ye thet I’m goin’ ter step between Dasher an’ bis father, but mebbe it wouldn’t be policy,” said Benson, ‘* You ex- oe ther boy ter fastin ter the Texas pink fer ife; but he never shall. Dyeset the gal down fer my lady—fer Benson’s prairy queen, I don’t fear her lasso, I’ve never yet been looped by a string.” With a farewell glance at Monte, who had turned on the cot in his death agony, Benson rose and crept away. “Ther youngster’s comin’ back fer another look,” he said, halting a few rods from the cabin. The next moment the figures of a man and horse came out of the shadows ahead. It was Dasher, leading Monte’s favorite steed. All at once the Bombshell leaped at the boy and landed before him ere he was aware of any- body’s presence. ‘‘Tt?s me, ther same old Bombshell!” ‘he said. “Tm hyer on important business, Dasher, hev already finished Monte, an’ ye know it. I want thet locket under yer jacket.” Dasher recoiled with a sharp cry, and the desperado followed him up. ** Quick!” he said, ‘‘Give me thet locket er take the contents oy this dropper,” Dasher was looking into the muzzle of his own revolver! mond CHAPTER XII. THE TRADE THAT FAILED, Bia BENSON had the youth completely at his mercy. Dasher involuntarily dropped the rein he was holding in his bands and stared at the merciless face before him, “It’s no time for foolin’,” continued the Bombshell, ‘I want that trinket—quick !” Accompanying the demand wasa quick move- ment of a bronze finger toward the reyolver’s trigger; Benson meant business. Tf I give it to him I will wrest it from him again,” he said to himself. ‘‘ This border tiger sball not keep bis advantage long.” So saying, Dasher’s band was thrust beneath po : mene and the precious locket was brought to light. The Bombshell’s eyes snapped for triumph, Dasher, reluctant to give up the prize, ex~ tended it slowly, too much so for Benson, who suddenly swooped down upon it likea kite and tore it from his grasp. “Now you can’t establish your identity,” laughed the villain, ‘Just go to Romero, and tell Monte’s secret without ther locket ter prove it, an’ he'll kick yer out ov ther haciendy. He'll take no stock in the story.” ‘* What is your motive for your work?” asked Dasher, glaring madly at the lassoer. ‘* Why have you wrenched the prize from me?” “You'll Parn one ov these days. You ar’ a boy yet—a mere coddlin’, not up to snuff, an’ no match fer ther Brazos Bombshell. What?ll I do with this yer’ locket? ‘Time will tell.” ** You heard Monte’s story to-night?” * Wal, I should reckon.” ‘* You played eavesdropper.” ‘* Mebbe so.” Dasher drew bis well-built figure to its true heigbt, and cried: ** We'll see who wins in the end, Thisis your triumph. Mine will come!” ‘Threats, eh?” blurted Benson, ‘‘Mebbe I’d better press ther trigger.” ‘* It may save you trouble in the future.” But the desperate sport did not fire; instead, the revolver dropped and he stepped aside, his big left hand baving shut on the locket, “ Don’t foller a Texas rattler, boy,” he said. ‘Tt ar’ liable ter turn an’ strike,” and the fol- lowing moment he was walking off with the prize in his possession, and Dasher stood on the spot like a man in a trance, “The Texas eagle swooped and got the prize,” he suddenly exclaimed, ‘I would like to know what he wants witb the locket, How can it ben- efit him—how assist him in any scheme? I'll see Monte. He may know.” Leaving the villain to depart in triumph, con- fident of winning in the end, Dasher hurried to Monte’s cabin, abe 3 The narrow door stood ajar just as ho had left it, and a dim light pervaded the little room, The youth entered on tip-toe, for silence reigned beyond the door, The cot was still occupied by a human figure,
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22 B'g Benson’s Bet, but its unnatural position caused Dasher to spring forward. Monte lay partly on his face, Fearful of something terrible, the youth turn- ed Monte over, and then uttered an exclamation of horror, The dread stare in the lifeless eyes told him all. Captain Monte was dead! “Another reason why I should hate you, Benson!” he cried as he sprung up. ‘This is your work. You have killed Monte, the best friend a stolen boy ever had, Cross my path, if you dare. I may not respect Rita’s vow if you do, You have got to die, but whether by noose or revolver, I dare not say.” He turned away and told some of Monte's friends that the well-known cabin was tenanted by the dead. ‘Now my work begins,” he said, “I have nobody to bind me to Coyote from this night.” He went back to the horse he had left near Monte’s cabin, mounted him and rode away. He did not know in which direction Big Ben- son had gone, but he rode toward the quarter lately occupied by Romero’s hacienda, {ff he had watched the Brazos Bombshell, he would have seen that he had galloped away in the same direction. Dasher did not leave Coyote without being fully armed, In addition to Monte’s revolvers, he carried a formidable bowie and a lasso which he, like all men of the Southwest border, know so well how to use. A long distance ahead of him rode the man who had triumphed over him. He did not draw rein until from the summit of a rise, many miles from Coyote, he looked down upon the scene of Red Crest’s last swoop— the ruins of Romero’s hacienda, “They gave it ther torch, sure enough,” he said, ‘‘ They made sure work of everything burn- able. No! Thar’s a shanty among ther trees,” As Benson finished he was surprised to see a moving figure among the trees on which he was gazing, and touching his steed lightly with the spur he rode forward, The man among the trees was visible for a minute, and then suddenly disappeared into the temporary structure which, as the Bombshell had already discerned, had been erected since the fire, Big Benson was riding boldly forward, and was near the shanty when the man reappeared, and as a rifle struck his shoulder, the desperado heard a voice he instantly recognized: “Stand!” said the man with the rifle, “Hang me ef it isw’t Romero himself,” ejacu- lated tae border ruffian, biting his lips, and drawing rein, for the rancher’s rifle held him at the owner’s mercy. “Keep off! I don’t want the likes of you here,” continued Romero. “Don’t, eh? Mebbe if you knew what I had you wouldn’s go off so brash.” The rancher stepped out from armong the trees, displaying his figure to the Texan bandit, but kept his rifle at his shoulder. “Keep what you’ve got,” came to Benson’s ears from over the polished barrel of the Spen- cer, “All right, Romero. I’m satisfied ef you ar’, T'll jest keep the locket which—” The rancher'’s starb broke the Bomsbhell’s sen- tence, “*T struck ’im hard ther first blow!” he chuck - led, ‘Old Monte didn’t give ther boy anything but straight goods.” With the rifle lowered, and intense anxiety depicted on every lineament of his countenance, Romero was advancing toward Benson with rapid strides, ‘What have you found—my baby’s locket?” he asked, as he halted and looked up into tho borderer’s face, ‘*'Your baby’s locket?” echoed Benson, ‘ You have no baby.” ‘No, but I had once.” “When?” ‘* Seventeen years ago.” ‘“Whar is he now?” “Heaven knows. Show me the locket you have spoken of,” ies Ina minute, What hey ye got to trade fer Romero did not see that the speaker was merely torturing him, “Five thousand acres of the best grazing ground in Texas,” he said, with a sweep of his arm, ‘‘It lies all around us,” Benson smiled, ** Would you give me my lasso fer it?” he said. Romero started again, and seemed to recoil an inch, ‘*Mebbe the rope war burned up with yer haciendy,” continued the Bombshell, ‘Ef thet’s so, we can’t exchange. So I kin take ther ranch fer ther locket? Its a big thing, Romero, but I’ve got no notion of settling down just yet. Look at the trinket,” and the speaker held the prize up before Romero’s eyes but, of course, out of his reach, For a moment the ranchman gazed upon the » locket, displaying a countenance which cannot be described, The past seemed to have rushed suddenly back upon his mind, and again he was living over the terrible hour which had deprived him of wife and child. “It is Chester’s locket, my lost boy Chester!” he exclaimed. * It contains his mother’s picture taken the day I made her my wife.” ‘*She war a daisy, an’ no mistake, Romero,” said the Bombshell coarsely, ** Lat me ses her face again,” and Romero held up his hand for the locket which Benson coldly drew further away. aie just yet, Why don’t you ask whar I ‘ot it? wa True, My God! I cannot be myself to- day. The sight of that locket unmans me! Where did you get it, Benson?” *TIn Apache-land,” said the Rombshell. ** Did- n’t them red Greasers take yer boy?’ “Yes; and didn’t T pay them for their work? Didn’t I desolate their land until I grew tired of killing? You found that locket in a wig- wam?”? ‘* No; I found it on the breast of a young In- jun who had been killed with an arrow.” ** An Indian?” ; “Yes; but he had white skin,”
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2 Big Benson’s Bet. 28 Romero recoiled with a cry. “Tt was my poor boy, Chester!” he exclaim- ed. “I have missed him, after all. Dead! dead!! Now, Benson, you will part with the locket?” “ Per ther ranch?” ‘Yes, for every acre I own,” “Wer ther Texas Pink, too?” “ What?” “Wer ther Ranch Rose?” “Rita?” **Ov course.” ‘© You don’t want her?” ** Thet’s what I said.” ‘She isn’t my child.” ** Don’t I know it? But she will stick to any bargain you make. Say that Rita shall be mine, an’ ther locket falls at yer feet. Do you say il, Romero?” **T can’t.” “Then, we can’t trade.” The rancher’s bands tightened around his rifle’s stock; his eyes flashed, ‘The locket shall be mine!” he cried. ‘Not just now,” and the Bombshell’s right hand swooping downward, clutched the barrel and held it fast, ‘* Not ter-day, Romero,” be continued, glaring triumphantly into the ran- cher’s face, ‘Swear ter give me Rita, an’ Vl throw ther trinket at yer boots,” ‘““Never! I don’t sell Meta’s child.” ‘Yes, she’s Meta’s child. I know all about it. She wants my life—has sworn to take it, an’ all thet; but Pm willin’ ter swap fer her, notwithstandin’. Tl run all risks, Romero, Say ther word. I offer ye a fair trade.” “Hush! No more, Get off of my ranch. By heavens! if you stay bere, V’ll keep Rita from keeping her vow!” Instead of moving away, the big brute only grinned derisively. “Tll give you a chance fer ther trinket, Ro- mero,” he said, ‘‘Hang me ef I don’t bet ye ther locket ag’in’ yer ranch thet Rita never keeps her oath,” “You will?” cried Romero, ‘Certainly. Ther locket ag’in’ yer haciendy ai tho Texas Pink never lassoes this prairie wolf, “Agreed! I'll take that bet, Big Benson. [ have all the confidence in the world in that girl, I raised her. I taught her to shoot and to use the lasso, for what?—to keep the vow she took beside her dying mother.” “Wal, Vil risk it all. My bet tells ye that, Romero. When will we call the bet decided?” “When Rita’s rope tightens round your neck,” answered the rancher, through clinched ‘*No, when she rides with me hyer an’ calls me her lord and master.” “T agree. When she does that this ranch is yours, and Texas shall not hold Romero another day.” : The rancher was answered by a coarse laugh which still disturbed the air while Big Benson rode away, chuckling over his bet. CHAPTER XIil. THE BOMBSHELL’S TRATL, A BARE fall day was closing almost a week . after the scenes recorded in the foregoing chap- ter when a borse bounded into Coyote and halt- ed in the tragic square, The rider was unmistakably a girl although clad in border masculine garments, a rich buck- skin jacket, and soft leggings of the same ma- terial. She wore a jaunty sombrero over which lay a dark feather, and her feet were incased in bead- ed Comanche moccasins. : Need we name her now? ‘* Where is Dasher?” she asked the single man who came forward out of curiosity, * Don’t know,” was the answer, ‘* He went away the night Monte died, an’ the rest ov Co- yote went the next day. I’m keepin’ house alone, doin’ the honors ov the city.” “ Whither have they gone?” ** Oh, don’t you know?” said the Coyoter some- what surprised, ‘ The Brazos Bombshell came hyer an’ exploded. Several of the boys war killed outright, an’ Cap’n Monte lingered till nigh mornin’, Now you know whar they’ve all gone ter. They ar’ huntin’ the Texas tiger. Dasher, I take it, is lookin’ fer him on his own hook, Monte war a father to thet boy an’ ef he gits the drop on the Bombshell somethin’ ’I] tumble.” The girl listened to all this with varying emo- tions as her changing countenance showed, ** I’m not afraid of Dasher taking his life, but the men of Coyote must not find bim,” she mur- mured. ‘“ fn which direction did the company move?” she asked the man, ** Toward the southeast.” ‘* Did the trail lead in that direction?” “Can’t say about that. The Pecos Pards led the | procession. You’ve heard ov them, meb- bet No,” “ Thought all Texas had. Ef they run ther Bombshell down, good-by forever.” ‘ Will they hang bim?” ‘« Worse then thet. Afore they left Coyoto they tried him an’ sot the penalty.” * What was it?” “ Thar ar’ just thirty in the Coyote gang, an’ nineteen voted fer skinnin’ alive.” ‘€ Heavens!” burst from the girl’s throat, “ Majority always rules hyer,” continued the man, ‘ You don’t think that Big Benson does- n’t desarve peelin’, I hope?” “No; but those men mustn’t do that. It would kill bim.” “ Wal, I should notice,” smiled the Coyoter. **Tts a tryin’ process, How would you dispose of him?” The girl’s eyes sparkled, “Pd choke him with the lasso, as he once choked the best man in Texas!” she said. ‘““Thet wouldn't last. Big Benson don’t de- sarve to die thet easy. He bullied Coyote fer years, an’ then finished by shootin’ her best citi- zens, I expect you hate him, but | hope the Coyoters will get in their work before you find them,” * They will not though. Heaven is preserving that man for my vengeance, I feel it!” A moment later the man was gazing after the unexpected visitor, who was being carried from the town in a cloud of dust and amid the rattle of hoofs,
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“Wal, sho beats creation,” he exclaimed. “She wants to choke the Bombshell, nothin’ more. She’d better steer cl’ar ov the boys, fer they won't allow her to interfere with their hunt.” Meanwhile, the girl—Rita, of course—had passed out of sight, and the solitary guardian of the border town retired to his cabin with his head full of the late visitor, ‘* He says they are going to flay Big Benson; they shall do nothing of the kind!” she exclaimed in determined tones, ‘‘ ’m going to be in at the death, as I swore to be, nine yearsago. I have made! my second escape from Red Crest, who captured me when I was helpless on the plain. Indian watchfulness could not keep me bound. If my horse had not stumbled when my lasso was circling over Boenson’s head, I would not be here hunting him tu-night.” The horse ridden by the girl lassoer put a num- ber of miles between her and Coyote, while the stars came out and beautified the sky. All at once astern command to halt rungin her ears, and laying ber hand instantly on a revol- ver, she drew rein and leaned forward. Rita quickly distinguished the figures of two moun men, who had emerged from beneath the boughs of a clump of trees in her front, “ By Jove! it’s the girl what rode after the Bombshell the night he killed in Coyote!” ex- claimed one of the pair. * Yes, lam Rita,” answered Romero’s ward, * and who are—” “The Coyote Avengers,” The girl uttered an exclamation of joy. She had come up already with the men who were hunting Big Benson with a purpose in ae hearts horrible enough to make one shud- er, The vengeance of bordermen is always terri- le. * Are you all here?” asked Rita, moving for- ward until ber horse stood between the men’s steeds, ** No, we're divided. Thar ar’ two trails, an’ they’re both fresh enough ter foller. Burly Benson has been iv these parts within the last twenty-four bours, an—” ** Where's bis trail?” interrupted Rita eager- ‘Ys * About a mile back,” ** Will you show it to me?” The rangers exchanged swift glances before either spoke. “What has set you ag’in’ the Bombshell so?’ asked one, “* Boough to forfeit his life. Don’t ask me for the story. I won’t waste time telling it. Show me the Texan’s trail.” “We won't do it. Coyote; we ar’.” ; nstantly madness lighted up the girl’s eyes, “Where is your camp?” she asked, “ Whar we left it.” You will not guide me to it?” ‘No, nor show ye the trail!” ** Very well,” and Rita bit her lips, ‘* You men think to balk me by your refusal, You will fail, AJl Texas cannot keep me from find- ing Big Benson. * Mebbe not, but ye'll find him dead!” Youw’re not avenging Big Benson’s Bet. “Never! Look here; ore of you men must show me the Bombshell’s trail. I select you,” and the girl leaned forward as her revolver went up. ‘‘*About face,’ as they say in the army!” she continued, sternly addressing the startled Texan. ‘“‘Ilam Rita, the avenger. Nothing, I have sworn, shall balk me, You will excuse me for pressing you into my service, I want that trail, I want it now.” ** It’s only one ov the two trails, both fresh, the Bombshell has made.” ; “T don’t care, I want it. Guide me to it.” ‘* What ef I should say blaze away?” **T would obey the command,” was the quick response. ‘‘My oath knows no failure. am prepared to shoot my way to the man I want. W heel about and take me to the trail.” ‘Take her to it, Chris, She's got the drop on ye, an’ besides, thar’s shoot in her eye,” said tho menaced man’s companion, ‘The other gang is likely to find the Bombshell long afore thet gal kin git her work in. Take her to the trail. It’s the oldest ov the two, ye know. Play fair with her,” Thus advised, the ranger glanced at Rita and wheeled his horse. ‘Come on,” he said to her, ‘*Go ahead, I am at yonr heels,” With no further parley the man moved away, followed by Rita, who still retained her hold on the revolver, and whose eyes watched her guide so narrowly that not a movement of his escapad her notice, More than two miles from the spot where she had encountered the two men, her guide halied and turned to her. His horse stood at the edge of the little stream, whose waters glistened in the soft starlight. It was so narrow that the twain could see to the other side, “We're on the trail. He crossed hyer,” said the man. ‘Do you know the hoof-print ov the Bombshell’s hoss?” “ Yes.” “Then git down an’ look at the one in the ground yonde~. Don’t take my word fer it, lie sometimes.” Rita dismounted and approached the water, with a lighted match in ber hands, More than once since the beginning of her hunt for Big Beason, she had examined the hoof- prints made by his steed, sothat she was familiar with the mark. In the soft earth, sloping to the water, were numerous horse-tracks; but one in particular, the imprint of a somewhat curious shoe, invited her gaze, For severe] moments she examined it in the light of the match, “You have not deceived me,” she said, look- ing up into the Texan’s face, “I have found Benson’s trail at last. This time I will not leave it until my oath has been fulfilled,” The mounted ranger smiled incredulously. “Tt’s all owin’ to what the boys do,” he said, Rita sprung up. “The boys! They are to find Big Benson, are they?” she demanded, ‘‘ He crossed this stream —I say for the last time. Tell your pard that when you go back to him.” She said no more, for she had mounted her ?
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oe? = :) Big Benson's Bet. 26 horse again, and the animal was clearing the waters of the Texas creek. Once on the other side, she sent a loud cheer back to the dark apparition on the bank just left, and the next moment she galloped away. Having found where Benson had crossed a certain stream, Rita seemed to know where to look for him, On, on, she went, until the approach of day found a weary horse moving BAS along the edge of a belt of timber, with a young girl al- most asleep in the saddle, Suddenly she was aroused by the animal’s sudden halt, and when she unclossd ber heavy lids she saw what bad startled her steed, Not more than fifty yards ahead sat six men on as many horses, They were roughly dressed fellows whose faces were like parchment in color, and, their heavy armament of rifle, revolver and bowie proclaimed their identity. Rita hesitated not, but rode forward, She was not molested, although the eyes of each man scrutinized her closely, “T know you; you are from Coyote,” she said, halting before the six. ‘* Where is Big Benson’s trail?” ‘“‘Nigher than you think, my love,” said one of the dark fellows. ‘‘ You ar’ at the end ov it, We've caught the Texas devil,” Rie loud exclamation of surprise broke from ita. ‘¢ Where is he, then?” Just back ov the timber whar the boys ar’ sharpenin’ their knives. We voted fer bahgin’, It isn’t honorable ter skin a man alive, though Big Benson desarves worse ner thet. We wouldn’t stay an’ see the process,” “They shall not do it!” Several of the men burst into fits of laugh- ter, “They've got under way ere this,” said the spokesman, ** Make way for me!” . Rita urged her borse forward, but the animal was stop by a bronze hand that clutched the bridle-rein, y ‘No. It’s no place for a girl,” said the ran- er. “ Drop that rein!” was the flashing response, and the Texan recoiled from the revolver thrust into his face, and the next instant Romero’s ward was shooting the wood like a thunderbolt. CHAPTER XIV, COYOTE WINS. Tue old localism that ‘‘ when a Texan hunts aman the man is found,” had been proven in this case. While Rita was Nace down the trail dis- covered at the ford through the medium of the forced guide, the very man for whose neck her lasso was always ready, was riding slowly and confidently over a nice stretch of wild pasture- land. If he knew the citizens of Coyote had de- serted their cabins for the purpose of flaying him alive, he did not evince any fear, as he moved along at a gentle gallop, his horse’s hoofs sending forth no sound in the grass they presse ‘Pll win my bet yet,” he said, aloud. "TI wouldn’t be ther Brazos Bombshell ef I failed ter outwit a girl an’ beat Romero out ov his ranch, I'll take it, too, an’ make it blossom like a rose inside ov six months, Red Crest may take a notion ter swoop down upon it, but he'll not carry off a feather. Why don’t i strike a trail ov some kind? Hevn’t seen one fer forty- eight hours. I must be nigh Moredo’s creek, Ha! thar is the weter now.” The clear, starlit waters of the little stream reached by the Brazos Bombshell were wel- comed by his steed, which drank eagerly and for many moments. Not until be had thoroughly quenched his thirst did he move on, and Big Benson started him into a smart gallop after emerging from the water. “Hello! somethin’s ahead!” suddenly ex- claimed the Texas outlaw. ‘‘ The hoss sniffs somethin’, What is it, pard?” The interrogative had scarcely been put ere the human wolf whipped out bis two revolvers and leaned forward in a listening attitude, All at once a long line of fire assailed his vision. “Curse the man what struck thet match!” he grated, knowing well that the grass of the plain was burning afar in his front. ‘* The Co- manches are out on another raid an’ what they can’t carry off they burn.” Larger grew the flame as Big Benson watched it from the back of his horse, and his eyes flashed with reseutment as he looked, His practiced eye told him that the fire was sweeping toward him, although at that time it was yet at least four miles off, A stiff breeze, enough to drive the flames for- ward with great rapidity, blew against his face, stirred his long black hair, and lifted the brim of his sombrero, “The fire never caught me yet,” he laughed. “This hoss kin outrun any plain fire thet ever lit the sky. We'll let it get a little nigher, pard, an’ then give it a tussle.” Straightening in his saddle Benson watched the approaching fire with much interest. lt was near enough to enable him to see the tonzues of flame that leaped heavenward, and to hear the roar that went before it like cannon thundering against the wind. The sight was terribly grand even to the Texas outlaw who had seen it before, His own hands had fired the grass a score of times, and more than once he had put a wall of flame between himself and pursuing foes, The Bombshell’s horse did not long share his master’s composure; he began to grow restless as the roaring flames advanced, aera § up the grass and sending volumes of dark smoke toward the sky. * Don't get fretful. I know yer powers,” said Benson ina quieting strain as he patted the stéed’s arched neck. ‘‘ We'll be off in a minute. By heavens! thar’s a blaze behind us!” This discovery, enough to pale thecheek of even a Texan, seemed to stagger the bronze las- soer, Behind him was a line of fire similar to the one sweeping down in his front, but it was not
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26 so near as the last mentioned and did not seem so dangerous, After a short study of the second fire Big Benson wheeled his horse and rode toward it, It was a perfect wall of flame too formidable to be charged with safety, and after a short in- spection of it he turned and rode back again, There was now on the desperado’s face.an expression of fierce determination, a resolve to outwit the fire or perish in tho attempt. The fire first discovered had been changed by the fickle wind into a sort of crescent, the horns of which were on his right and his left, and he seemed to be actually between them, In almost less time than we bave described Big Benson’s situation, he seemed to be a doom- ed man, The two fires would soon unite, for the one in his front, sweeping down with the wind, was roaring like a thousand ocean surges, and the heat of it had reached his face, ** Once in ther Pecos kentry we rode through a fire like thet!” he exclaimed, ‘‘ You’re ther hoss what did thet trick, pard. You must do it ag’in.” The magnificent full-blood seemed to under- stand the Bombshell, and to gather strength for the ordeal. Escape, if escape were now possible, lay ahead, The fleetest horse in Texas could not outrun the flames, and no man knew that better than Burly Benson himself. . He had long since put up hia revolvers; they could not fight fire successfully. He relied on his horse; if he failed, then all was lost, Here and there fora moment apyeared rifts in the fiery phalanx, and beyond lay,the dark pala covered with burned grass and very hot to ihe touch, Benson watched these places narrowly, meas- ured their breath with his keen eyes, and calcu- lated bis chances, Then he took his long hair, gathered it to- gether, brought it around under his chin, and tied it there, lest in passing through the fiery lane it should get caught by the red tempest, and be destroyed. “Ready now, horse,” he said, ‘* Remember that you carr the Brazos Bombshell, who has bet a woman’s picter ag’in the best ranch in Texas. Thar’s one ov them lanesag’in, Shoot it straight! Go!” The command was followed by a yell that rose above the roar of wind and flame, and the horse sbot forward like an Indian arrow. Benson fell forward on the steed’s neck along which he put one of his arms and pressed the ns mane close to keep it from catching in the re, The horse knew or seemed to know exactly what was expected of him. He bent himself to the accomplishment of the terrible task with a zeal that commanded suc- cess. A moment after his start he reached the mouth of the fire-walled lane which the hunted ruffian had selected for the attempt at escape. The next instant horse and rider disappeared, With teeth shut hard and determined visage, the Brazos Bombshell plunged into the fire and ) ets Big Benson’s Bet, clung to the horse to whom be had intrusted his life. The heat was intolerable; he felt it on his cheeks; it seemed to shrivel his hand; the steed’s mane, despite his precautions took fire. This minute of peril, terror and horror which followed the bunted desperado’s plunge cannot be described because the pen and brain cannot do it justice, If the reader bad stood beyond the fire on the blackened ground, he would have seen a horse emerge from the seething flames with a blazing mane which a man was trying to beat out, Thanks to Benson’s precaution he bad saved his own long Jocks, but his sombrero had disap- peared and his clothes were badly singed, The steed’s exertions bore him some distance beyond the fire, then a halt was made and a quiver, felt by the Texas tiger, passed through the horse’s frame. His own brain seemed in a whirl and no won- der; the heat through which he had passed was enough to burst his skull. “Through it, by Heaven!” rose from his throat. ‘‘Hurrah fer ther Brazos Bombshell an’ ther best piece ov hoss meat in Texas! I always come out on top; I never fail! I’ve been in hot places, but never in @ne ez hot ez thet one back thar. Kerwhoop! kerwhoop! I could whip the world!” The last boast was finished as his faithful horst staggered forward, and the next moment pitched headlong as though his front legs had given way. Benson freed himself from the saddle ere the exhausted and dying creature struck the ground, and as he touched the blackened grass the fire- lit landscape whirled around him, In vain he tried to steady himself and keep his feet. He clutched at the scorching atmos- phere, but it did not sustain him. All at once down he went, to rise again only to fall back with a mad oath. Suddenly the gallop of approaching horses reached his ears, and then the voices of men— white men, “My God! ther men ov Coyote!” cried Big Benson, ‘Don’t I know now who sot ther grass afire? They want me for what I did at Coyote the other night. They would make me loose my bet with Romero.” He forced himself toward his horse, where his revolvers had fallen from his belt. The tigerish glare in his eyes told how he would receive the horsemen almost at band, With a wild cry be snatched up the weapons and whirled upon his hunters, The next second they bounded into view, six- teen stalwart Texans on horses that matched them well. **T am hyer! Ther Brazos Bombshell explodes ag’in to yer cost, men ov Coycte!” The speaker’s blistered hands thrust the revolvers forward, and the four foremost Texans reeled almost simultaneously from their saddles, But the deadly weapons did not check the mad Coyoters, who recugnized Benson with a yell of delight. They came on, and despite his mad resist-
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Big Benson’s Bet. 27 ‘Aice, rode him down, to come back presently and pick him up a helpless captive. Coyote had won, CHAPTER XV. DASHER’S REVOLVERS, Oncr more we go back to the shanty among the trees that once almost bid the finest hacienda in Texas—Romero’s, While Benson was fighting fire, and Rita hurrying along his trail, there stood in front of the uncouth structure the old rancher himself, with eyes gazing longingly toward the north as though from that point of the compass he ex- pected bis beautiful ward, ‘Benson will lose his bet—I know it!” he exclaimed, ‘* He will never ride beside Rita to my ranch, and she will vever willingly tell me that she loves bim. That would be too much, What! Rita the wife of the man she has sworn to hunt to earth?) Never! Heaven has no such misery in store for Romero.” Behind the rancher lay the blackened ruins of his hacienda, and more than once he had promised himself to erect another that would outshine the old place, but not till Rita came back to lay the fatal lasso at his feet, and tell him that the terror of the Texas border was no more. All at once from out the darkness that rose like a wall of night before him, came a horse that stopped at the door of the shanty, Romero sprung forward with a cry of joy. * Dasher! thank fortune!” he exclaimed, ‘I have been waiting for some one, You have come. Iam glad.” The youth leaned down and gazed searchingly into Romero’s face. It was such a look as he had never given him before, “Where is Monte?” asked the rancher, “ Dead.” The answer seemed to stagger Romero, “Not dead? Then—’ He checked himself and clutched the boy’s arm, ‘ Did he tell you ca pe | before he died#” ** Get down and tell me all.” Dasher bardly waited for these words, He was on the ground before they left the rancher’s lips. “* He told me a secret he had kept for years,” the boy went on. ‘‘ He gave me proof of what he said, but that proof, alas! L have lost.” “Was it a locket?” Before Dasher could reply a number of ar- rows cut the air, and the rancher threw up his hands with a ery and fell across the threshold of his little shanty. > ‘Tndians!” ejaculated Dasher, turning to- ward the point from whence the feathered shafts had come. ‘‘ You do not know who you have slain, red devils; but I will show you.” He saw nothing for a moment, but suddenly the air resounded with the wildest yells, and a score of naked figures leaped from the grass in his front and rushed forward. Dasher had already drawn a pair of revolvers, and he now poured their contents into the red- ins, Stunned by this unexpected reception where \ they had looked for an easy victory, the red- skins appeared to recoil, and taking advantage of their momentary terror the youth sprung into the shanty and drew Romero's body further inside, “Tell me that you live, Romero—father!” he said, stooping over the rancher. There was no reply. ‘* Woe to the Comanches if they have killed you!” he flashed, rising and leaping to the dour, revolvers in hand, ‘Since I have found my father, I shall avenge him, or die by his side.” Dasher looked out upon the starlit plain in front of the building, and saw only the motion- less forms of the Indians who had fallen before his weapons; their living comrades had gone back to the shelter of the grass through which they had sneaked upon the twain. But he knew they had not given up the con- test, and while he stood at the door, burning for them to renew the fight, he expected to hear the whiz of an arrow or the ping of a bullet, He listened, too, for a groan from the man behind, for a gasp that would tell bim that Ro- mero still lived; but he listened in vain. At the end of five minutes there came a voice from the waving grass. “*The Comanches are many. Red Crest leads them, Will the white boy try to hold out against them?” ‘“* Yes,” was the quick response. ‘* Red Crest, there can be no peace between us.” “White boy stands between the Comanches and the Texas Rose. She is in the rancher’s hut; she has escaped from Red Crest the second time. Give her up and the Comanche will go back to bis lodge.” A smile flitted across Dasher’s face, ‘Rita has escaped from bim again, Thank Heaven for that good news!” he exclaimed. “ Now I can fight these red devils with better muscle than ever. They think Rita is here; I will not undeceive them. Sinee they have killed Romero, I want the blood of every ove!” He went back to the rancher and snatched his revolvers from bis belt; then he returned to the door, with t enty-four loaded chambers for the skulkers in the grass, “What does the white boy say? Red Crest is like the wild horse, He wants to be off to his people. Give him the Texas Rose, and he will go. “You go without her, or stay here forever,” said Dasher, parieeely) “Red Crest and his Comanches are cowards, They stay hid in the grass, like snakes, They dare not lift their heads.” “Boy find out soon, Him nogive Texas Rose up? ‘* Once forever, no!” ‘ A minute’s silence followed this thrilling ultimatum, then the air was pierced by a blood- chilling whoop. ‘*T’ve stirred them up,” said the boy, to him- self, and sure enough he had. The next instant half a dozen figures sprun up from the grass, and half of them at least fel back again at three shots that seemed to have been fired at the same moment, ‘You bave only to come on to find out that
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28 Big Benson’s Bet. thare is Romero blood in my veins!” the boy exclaimed, defiantly, as he poured bis deadly fire into the Comanche ranks, ‘ Monte taught me how to shoot. I practiced on Indians under his eye, and I guess I remember the old lessons, Come on, miserable red skunks. I’ve gota bullet for each one of you.” To charge successfnlly in the face of such a terrible fire as the youth was delivering was next to an impossibility. Dasher’s revolvers spoke with a continual flash which threw a weird light upon bis face revealing his determined eyes and close-shut lips, One of the Indians fell almost at his very feet, but they got no nearer. Dasher stepped back into the cabin without seeing a single Comanche in arms before him, There came no parley from the grass, no yells of defiance, He knew he had not killed all for he had seen some retreat unburt, The boy reloaded his revolvers and waited for the third onslaught, but it did not come, More than an hour passed away. At last he saw one of the dead bodies recede as though it wasbeing dragged away by somé person behind it. ‘Got enough of it, have you?’ murmured Dasher. ‘Well, depart in peace if you will, and keep your distance hereafter. I’m inclined to be dangerous when you stir me up.” One by one the corpses of the fallen were dragged through the grass, Dasher did not molest the Comanches in this work, but permitted them to reclaim their dead, and saw the victims of his revolvers taken away. After several hours of sleepless vigil at the door, the boy from Coyote crept back to the spot where he had left Romero. es his surprise he did not find the rancher ere, What had become of bim? A search of the shanty instantly took place, and in one corner Dashber’s hand came in con- tact with a human face. A low cry followed the touch, ** Alive!” cried the youth joyously, and for- getful of the red-skinned foes that might lurk in the grass, he threw himself upon the person he had discovered. **T don’t want the proof you have lost!” cried Romero as his arms encircled Dasher. ‘ You have told me enough of Monte’s secret, I know who you are—my boy!” What an opportunity for Comanche ven- geance that moment presented, “ Lraw this accursed arrow out of my bosom, Chester,” said Romero; ‘‘and we will see that Big Benson loses his bet, We will belp Rita fulfill her oath.” i Ene beautiful queen of the lasso needed no elp. At that very moment, while there was rejoic- ing in Romero’s shanty, she was uncoiling the long lasso for the last throw. CHAPTER XVI. THE LAST THROW OF THE LASSO. “Now thet you’ve got ther Brazos Bomb- shell, what ar’ ye goin’ ter do with ’im?” ‘“*What d’ye s’pose, Brazos? Don’t think we ar’ goin’ ter let ye slip through our fingers, eh?” “Wal, not exactly, But, ov course, you'll give me a chance.” ‘* Yes, ther kind Monte got from ye at Coy- ote.” To this last response there was no answer, The Brazos Bombshell was the prisoner of the men from Coyote, the stalwart Avengers of the ‘Texas border, and men from whom be had no reason to expect any mercy, We have seen him fall into their hands after the prairie fire which those very men had started for the purpose of “ stirring him up” if he was near at band, Their efforts had been crowned with the great- est success desirable; the Bombshell had fallen into their hands, The camp of the Coyoters was near a belt of timber, and there they intended to inflict on their captive a punishment the mere mention of which makes one shudder. He had infested the borders long enough; he had bullied Coyote once too often, The cowards of the Texas town had united against him; be had stirred their blood at last, After the brief conversation recorded at the head of this chapter, the Avengers, as the Coy- otes called themselves, prepared to put an end to the Bombshell’s career. A few of them bad voted for hanging, but the majority decided in favor of that terrible tor- ture which we call flaying alive. Several of those who bad declared for hanging denounced the sentence inhuman, and, rather than witness the punishment, mounted their horses and rode off. ‘*Git ready, Brazos,” ordered the leader of the bronze executioners, “Tm always ready. When did ther Bomb- shell shrink?” They stood around him with knives drawn, on with revolvers cocked in their leathern elts, He had been taken from the horse and placed on the ground, and the looks that he fixed on the party were full of defiance. “Hark!” suddenly said one of the men, ‘Somebody's comin’.” ** Comin’ through the timber, too. Mebbe the boys ar’ comin’ back?” No, it was not ‘‘ the boys,” as was soon dis- covered, for all at once a horse and bis rider emerged from the wood, and the next moment the astonished Coyoters were looking up into the face of Rita! : ; ‘‘ That man belongs to me,” she said, pointing at Big Benson, “ To you, girl?” ejaculated several of the bor- der pards in unison, j ‘* To me.” “I'd like to know how!” “ By the conditions of my oath. You must not touch him with those ula” “* Just ez ef we haven’t a right ter do ez we please!” ‘ Not with my property.” “Ho! ef you sit thar an’ look on awhile you shall see,” The girl’s eyes seemed to emit sparks of fire. “I am not here to parley, but to act,” she
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Big Benson's Bet. 29 said, facing the leaders boldly. ‘* Let that man up!” ** Onto his feet?” ac Yes.” “ By heavens, ye're askin’ too much! We can’t do thet, girl!” **Can’t, did you say? You shall!” Quick as a flash the rancher’s ward thrust forward the revolver she clutched, “ Step back! TPll shoot the first man who hesi- tates! I don’t want to shed a single Coyoter’s blood, but [ must beobeyed. Tl count five. One—two—” Rita counted no further, for every man, men- aced by ber revolver, and the stern eyes behind it, had stepped back, and the Brazos Bombshell was beyond the reach of every arm. ‘* Who's got a horse to sell?” asked the girl, addressing the crowd. No one spoke. Rita threw a glance toward the little group of horses a few feet away. ‘** Go out there and pick your horse,” she said to Big Benson. “He sha’n’t do thet! It’s carryin’ the joke too far,” declared one of the Texas pards. ‘Silence! I hold the winning hand just now! I'm liable to press the trigger of my re- volver at any moment, Pick out your horse, Benson.” The Bombshell looked at her to see whether she was in earnest, and then started forward. ante git away! You ar’ helpin’ hiw off, gir “What have I told you? He belongs to me!” By this time, with triumph springing up in the depths of his eyes, Benson was moving to- ward the horses, The fire had singed him terribly, all but his long black hair, but bis step was as elastic as if he expected to achieve another victory over the men from Coyote. Rita watched him with an eagerness that made her eyes glitter. Not one movement of his escaped her. All at once, when near the horses, Big Benson lea forward with an exclamation of joy. he Coyoters saw him spring upon the back of the best horse in the group, and asa shout of rage burst from the owner of the steed, a pierc- ing yell rose from the desperado’s lips, “We'll meet ag’in’, thanks to the gal!” he ex- claimed, turning upon the Coyoters for a mo- ment. ‘I’m still the Brazos Bombsbell! Pll live ter explode more than once in Coyote. Men of Texas, border bums!” Then he wheeled the horse, a noble black, and while the coyoters beard with clinched teeth, he went off like a rocket, his last mad yell of defiance ringing in their ears. ““Thet beats thunder!” grated the men left behind, ‘‘ Mount an’ foller him, He shall not git away, ef he has a good start!” “You ride behind me, then!” cried the girl, and an instant later she had put up the revol- ver and was flying after Benson, ber band on the black lasso coiled against her saddle. “T gave him a chance for bis life,” she said aloud, as she urged her horse after her enemy ttying across the burnt plain at the best speed his steed was capable of making. ‘If I miss him to-day, may the spirit of my sainted mo- ther turn from me, forever!’ ; From the first it was a wild, exciting race for ife, Unarmed as he was, Big Burly Benson, the man of many crimes, bad to depend upon the horse he had selected from those belonging to the Coyoters, The first mile told him that he had made a good choice, for the steed possessed excellent bottom, and seemed to realize that ke was carrying a man from his bitterest foe. But Rita’s horse bore ber nobly on, She watched the big ruffian with unwearicd look, and ber eager eyes constantly measured the space between them. The horses, whose feet scarcely seemed to touch the ground they moved over, were al- most equally matched, The Brazos Bombshell held an advantage by the start he bad obtained. “Pil git away this time an’ turn on the Texas daisy by an’ by,” be murmured. ‘ Vil win my bet with Romero after all, though affairs did hev a scaly look just afore the gal dashed through the timber. Come on, my perairy pink!” be sent back over bis shoulder, ‘* When you noose ther Bombshell o’ Brazos thar’!] be fun in Texas!” Rita made no response, but her eyes seemed to receive a new glitter as she kept on. At length there was a perceptible lessening of the distance between the two. Romero’s ward bad urged her steed to bis very utmost, and the lasso hung no longer from its accustomed place, but the coil dangled from the girl’s white hand, “T have him now, or never!” she suddenly ex- claimed as she aroseand began toswing the black noose above her head, The two borses were doing their level best. All at once the lasso left Rita’s haud, and a wild ery rose from Big Benson’s tbroat as the avenging lariat fell over his head, and the next moment he was jerked from the horse which went on without bim! Big Benson had lost his bet. “At Jast!” cried Rita, ‘‘ Mother, all the past is avenged. The black lasso has avenged us all!” She wheeled her horse with a practiced hand, and rode back toward the Coyoters’ camp. She looked not once behind; she knew who was being dragged over the burned grass at her horse’s heels, There was mad triumph in her eyes, and when she drew rein it was to find herself surrounded by a lot of swarthy men, whose looks were ques- tions, ‘“‘T caught him!” she said, proudly facing them all. ‘*Men of Coyote, the Brazos Bombstell was doomed to this nine yearsago. My father is avenged!” The Coyoters stared at her as she rode off, and pot a hand was put forth to arrest her pro- gress, ““She’s a brick!” suddenly exclaimed one, ‘* When she told us that Big Benson belonged to her, I saw by her eyes thet she meant ter ketch im. A few hours afterward a beautiful girl
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Se cre pg ea a ee FS aFET SAREE 30 stopped a horse in front of a little shanty among some trees, “Back at last!” exclaimed the fine-looking man who came out to greet her, “Yes, Romero, I am back, The schooling under your eye did not fail me,” and a black lasso fell at the rancher’s feet, But that was not all. Rita placed in Romero’s hands a gold locket which was quickly opened, and the gentle face therein covered with kisses, ‘* Big Benson lost his bet, I knew he would!” exclaimed Romero, ‘‘Dasher will be here presently.” And Dasher came, He led Rita to one side, and talked low fora few moments. Romero saw the girl blush; he knew what was said, The oath had been fulfilled, and Rita was at liberty to think of love. Did she do so? asks the reader. We auswer by saying that where the old ranch had stood another and a finer hacienda rose, and the first event that took place within its walls wasa wedding to which all Western Texas came, including the entire population of Coyote. Red Crest, the young war chief of the Co- manches, molested the border no more, for he was among those who fell before Dasher’s re- volver in his spirited defense of his wounded father. : Romero’s ranch is no longer cattleless, but hundreds of Texan steers dot its broad pastures, and the full-bloods scour its plains with all the abandon of wild life. And Rita, a little older but fairer than ever, has not forgotten how to cast a lariat, So they say. THE END, BEADLE AND ADAMS’ Dime Hand-Books. Young People’s Series. Ladies’ Letter-Writer, Book of Games. Gents’ Letter-Writer Fortune-Teller, Book of Etiquette, Lovers’ Casket. Book of Verses, Ball-room Companion, Book of Dreams, Book of Beauty, Hand-Books of Games. Handbook ef Summer Sports, Book of Croquet. Yachting and Rowing. Chess Instructor, Riding and Driving. Cricket and Football. Book of Pedestrianism, Guide to Swimming. Handbook of Winter Sports—Skating, ete, Manuals for Housewives. 1. Cook Book. 4. Family Physician. 2. Recipe Book, 8. Housekeeper’s Guide, linery. ("The above books are sold by newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent, post-paid, to any ad- dress, on receipt of price, ten cents each. Brapuz anp ApAus, Publishers, 98 William st., N. Y. 5. Dressmaking and Mik Big Benson’s Bet. BEADLE AND ADAMS’ STANDARD DIME PUBLICATIONS Speakers. The Dime Speakers embrace twenty-five volumes viz.: 1, American Speaker, 15, Komikal Speaker. 2, National Speaker. 16, Youth’s Speaker. 3. Patriotic Speaker. 7. Eloquent Bpeaker. 4, Comic Speaker, 18, Hail Columbia Speak- 5, Hlocutionist, er, 6. Humorous Speaker. 19, Serio-Comic Speaker, 7. Standard Speaker. 20, Select Speaker, 8, Stump Speaker, 21. Funny Speaker, 9, Juvenile Speaker, 22, Jolly Speaker. 10, Spread-Eagle Speaker 11. Dime Debater. 12, Exhibition Speaker. 13. School Speaker, 25. 14. Tuudicrous Speaker, These books are replete with choice pieces for the School-room, the Exhibition, for Homes, ete. 75 to 100 Declamations and Recitations in each book. 23. Dialect Speaker. ¢. Recitations and Read- ings. Burlesque Speaker Dialogues. The Dime Dialogues, each volume 100 pages, em- brace thirty-six books, viz.: Dialogues No, One, Dialogues No, Nineteen, Dialogues No, Two, Dialogues No, Twenty. Dialogues No, Three. | Dialogues No, Twenty-one. Dialogues No, Four, Dialogues No, Twenty-two. Dialogues No. Five, Dialogues No, Twenty-three, Dialogues No. Six. Dialogues No, Twenty-four, Dialogues No. Seven, Dialogues No Twenty-five. Dialogues No. Kight. Dialogues No. Twenty-six. Dialogues No. Nine, Dialogues No, Twenty-seven, Dialogues No. Ten. |\Dialogues No. Twenty-eight, Dialogues No, Eleven. |Dialogues No. Twenty-nine, Dialogues No. Twelve. |Dialogues No. Thirty. Dialogues No, Thirteen, Dialogues No. Thirty-one. Dialogues No, Fourteen. Dialogues No. Thirty-two, Dialogues No. Fifteen, Dialogues No. Thirty-three, Dialogues No. Sixteen. Dialogues No. Thirty-four, Dialogues No.Seventeen Dialogues No. 'Thirty-five, Dialogues No. Kighteeun Dialogues No. Thirty-six. 15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book. Each volume contains 100 large pages. printed from clear, open type, comprising the best collee- tion of Dialogues, Dramas and Recitations. Dramas and Readings. 164 12m Pages. 20 Cents. "For Schools, Parlors, Entertainments and the Am- ateur Stage, comprising Original Minor Dramas, Comedy, Farce, Dress Pieces, Humorous Dialogue and Burlesque, by reted writers; and Recitations and Readings, new and standard, of the greatest celebrity and interest. Edited by Prof, A. M. Russel, Song Books. Brapie’s Dime Sona Boors, Nos, 1 to 84, contain the only popular collection of copyright songs. The above publications are ror sale by all news- dealers or will be sent, post-paid, on receipt of price, ten cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pubtisuers, 98 WrmrAM Srreet, N. Y,
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— BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY. Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents, 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. By EL. Wheeler. Sings or, ed Right Hand. By Buffalo Bill, By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. By Edward L. Wheeler. By Albert W. Aiken. Buffalo Bill, Edwar 4 Ives. Prairie B The Bulfalo Demon. Wheeler, Ve Rees _ BDNSRMR Sw Antelope Abe, the Boy ¢ Coomes. Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By exas Jack,” 10 Buffalo Ben, Prince of the Pistol. ” B: L. Wheeler. 1t Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccaneer. By C: 1. Prentiss Ingraham. 12 Nick o’the Night. By T. ©. Harbangh. 15 Vellowstone Jack. By Joseph f cer, Jr. z 4 » the Boy Clande Daval. L. Wheeler, Dirk; or,-The Mystery o! 8 Ingraham. 1 » Prince of the Prairies, By O11 Coomes, 17 Oregon Sol, Nick Whiflles’s Boy Spy.” By J. F.C. Adams, a Death-Face, tho Detective. By E. L. Wheeler. R the Yellowstone, By Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. By Oll Coomes, 0 Roaring Ralph Rockwood. By Harry St. George. 21 The Boy Clown, By Frank 8. Finn. 22 The Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick's Bonanza. By Kdward L. Wheeler. 28 The Sea- 24 Thel By Capt. Frederick Whittaker, By Ol Coomes. . » Wheeler, @, the Great Shot of the Weat. y J. F.C, Adama. Roger Starbuc 27 Glasa-Ky 28 The Boy Captain. B . 20 Dick Darling, the Pony By Capt. F. Whittaker, 80 Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian, By Edwatd L, Wheeler, 8L Nightingale Nat. By‘ Harbaugh 82 Black John, the Road A . By Joseph E. Badger, Jr, 88 Omaha Ol, the Masked Terror, By E. L. Wheeler. Burt Bunker, the Trapper. By George E. Lasalle, Ma Boy Rifles; or, The Underground Camp. By A. C. Trona. White Buffalo, By George E ‘ Bludsoe, Jr. By Edward L h nl, the Boy Trapper. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, bY Deadl e@, the Unknown S$ Scout. By Buffalo Bill, 40 Nick Whilfles’s Pet. fy F. C. Adams. AL Deadwood Dick's Eagle 42 The Border King. By 01 48 Old Hickory ¢ or, Pandy E By Harry St. George. 44 The White Indian, By Capt. J. F.C. Adama. 45 Buckhorn BIL By Edward L. Wheeler. 46 The Shadow Ship. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham, 47 The hed Brotherhood. By W. J. Hamilton, 48 Dandy Jack; or, The Outlaw of the Oregon Trail. By T, C, Harbaugh. 2 Will. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. “ nd or. A Life fora Life. By W. J. Hamilton, 51 Patent-leather Joe. By Philip S. Warne. 52 The Border Robin Hood. By Butfulo Bill. 58 ‘Gold Rifle, the Sharpahooter. By Edward L. Wheeler. 54 Old Zip’s Cabling or, A Greenhorn in the Woods, By Capt, J. F.C. Adama, 55 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. By Ol! Coomes, 56 Mad Tom Weater By W. J. Haniilton. 57 Deadwood Dick on Deck. By Edwarni L, Wheeler. 58 Wawkeye Harry, the Young Trapper. Hy Ol Coomes, 59 The Boy Duelist. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 60 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. By Albert W. Alken. 61 Corduroy Charlie, the Boy Bravo. By Edward L. Wheeler. 62 WILL Somers, the Boy Detective. By Chas. Morris, 68 Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. By A. W. Alken. 64 Rosebud Rob. By Edward L. Wheeler. 65 Lightning Joe. By “ay J. F.C, Adams. 66 Kit Harefoot, the Wood-Hawk. By T. C. Harbaugh. 67 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. By Oll Coomes, 68 Idyl, the 1 Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. By Edward L. Wheeler. Detective Dick; or, The Hero tn Rags. By Charles Morris, z re Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. By 01] Coomes. @1 Sharp Sam; or, The Adventures ofa Friendless Boy. By J. Alexander Patten. 72 The Lion of the Sea, By Albert W. Alken. Kis) Photograph Phil, the Boy Sleuth; or, Rosebud Rob's Reappear- 74 rie By he Wheeler. cay une ste; or, Nico o Dog Detectly y Chala es aa y Nicodemus, the Dog Detective, By 75 Island Jims or, The Pet of the Family. By Bracebridge Hemyng (Jack Harkaway x si 76 Watch-Eye, the Sha TT? Dick Dead Eye, the Boy Deadwood Dick’s Devic 45 The Black Mustanger. By Capt. Mayne Reid. ld Frosty, the Guide. By T. C, Harbaugh, he 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 Edward S. Uilis. ae Jack Harkaway in New York, By Bracebridge Hemyng. % The Hussar Captaing By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, By Edward L, Wheeler. iuggler, By Col, P. Ingraham. e. By Ei Wheeler. —- 88 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. By Edward L. Whoeler. Trappers By Edward 5, Ellis, By George Gleason, King of the Plains, By Jor, E, Badger, Jn, By Samuel W. [earce. By Charles Morris. y E. L. Wheeler. By Captain J. . Adams. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Black Steed of the Prairies, By James L, Bowen 9S ‘The Sea Serpent, By Juan Lewls, 99 Bonanza Bill, the Man Tracker. By E. L. Wheeler. 100 Nat Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. By E. 8. Ells. Young Bear Killer, By Harry St, George By Capt. Mayne Reid. ‘ By Edward L, Wheeler, E he Black Schooner, By F Starbuck, 10% MWandsome Harry, tho Bootblack Detective. By C. Morrly 106 Night-Hawk Kit. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 107 Jack Hoyle’s Lead. “By Edward L. Wheeler, 108 Rocky Mountain Kit. By T. C, Harbaugh, 109 The Branded Hand, By Frank Dumont. 110 The Dread Rider, By George W. Browne. 111 Boss Bob, the King of Bootblacks, By !.tward L, Whoever. 112 The Helpless Hand, By Capt. Mayne Reid. 8 Scar-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter, By! | Coomes, 4 a it 11: . the Mountain Boy, By T. CU. Harbaugh, 115 Dick’« Double, By Edward L, Wheeler. 116 Jabez Collin, Skipper. 117 Faney Frank, of Calorado. By “ Buffalo Bill.” il il y Capt. F. Whittaker, ~ z & Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred, By Chas, Morria, 9 Blonde BUI; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base. By Edward L. Wheeler, 120 Gopher Gd, the Boy Trapper. By 'T. C. Harbaugh, 121 Harry Armstrong, the Captain of the Club. By Brace- bridge Hemyng, (Jack Harkaway.) 122 The ed Hunter, By Edward §. 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 Brenk 0’ Day Boys of Rocky Bar. By Frank Damont. 127 Tony Fox, the Ferret. By Edward L. Wheelor. 128 Black Bess, Will Wildfire’s Racer, By Charles Morria, 129 Engle Kit, the toy Demon. By Ol! Coomes. 180 Gold Trigger. the Sport. By T. C. Harbaugh, Jame of Goldy or, © sdwood Dick’. Big Strike. By Edward L. Whe 182 Dainty Lan 188 Wild-Hre, the Boss ot che r umonts 184 Mike Merry, the Harbor ce Boy. By Charles Morris, 185 Deadwood Dick of Dendwood. By E. L. Wheeler. 186 Old Rube, the Hunter, By Cape. Harntlton Holmes, 187 Dandy Rock, the Man trom Texas. By G. Wado Browne, 188 Bob Rockett, the Boy Dodger. By Chas, Morris, 189 The Black Glanty or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy, By Jos, E. Badger, Jr. in Arizona. By Philip 8. Warne. Captain dc Nelle the Boy-Girl Detective, By EL. Wheeler Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. By Oll Coomes, Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire, By Jos. E, Badger, Jr. Little Grit, the Wild Rider. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, The Tiger of Taos. By Goo, Waldo Browne, The Cattle King. 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The Boy Champlon, By Edward Willett, 170 Bob Rockett’s Fight for Life. By Charles Morris, Beadle’s Pocket Library 1s for sale by all Newsdeaters, cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of alx cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street New Yorks By J. EB, Badger, Jr. 7 kT eee > Catedral Ti ENT RREKSSONA Ie SOK SoS ot art 7 Saas eo pp kk kk kk kp
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BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY. Published Every Wednesday, Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents, Frank Morton, the Boy Hercules. By Oll Coomes. The Yankee Banger. By Edwin Emerson, Dick Dingle, Scout. Edward's. Ellis. Dandy Rock’s Sche Browne. The Arab Dotecthy By Edward L. Wheeler, WILL Wildfire’s Pluck. Charles Morns. The Boy Commander. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 3 Ba : aniac sraprer, ae Burton Saxe. ainty Lance; or, The Mystic arksnan. By J. E. Badger; >» The Boy Gold-Hunter, Thy T.C. Bi i . The Scapegrace Son, By Charles w 2 The Dark-Skinn Scout. By Li % Jabex Dart, Detect By OU Coor S4 Daathorweight, the Boy Spy. By E 185 Bison GA, the Overland Prince, by Col. Prentias Ingraham, 186 Dainty Lance and His Pard. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 187 ‘The Trapped Tiger King, By Charles Morris. 188 The V. Sneriles uist Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. 189 Old Rocky's Hoya. By Maj. Sam, 8. Hall. 189 Sim pos Tiny Scout. by Jumes L, Bowen. 191 Dandy Rock’s Rival, By Geo. 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Wheeler. 242 The Denver Detective. C. Harbaugh, 248 Dutch Jan’« Dilemma. I We Carson. 244 Merle Monte’s Disguise, 245 Baldy’s E Parts 246 Detective Keen’s A R47 The Girl Sport. by 248 Giant George’s Pard. by Bu 249 Ranch -‘ob’s Wild Ride. by 250 Merle Monte’« Pardon. By ¢ Col, Prentins Ingraham. 251 The Deaf Detective. By Elward Willett. 252 Denver Doll’ g . Wheeler. 258 The Boy Ter ark Wilton. R54 isan Hills B - Carson. 255 Jolly Jim, Detective. 256 Merle Monte’s Last © By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 257 The Boy Chief of Rocky EF ane By Maj. E. L. St. Vrain, 258 Denver Doll as Detective. By E. 1. Wheeler. 259 Little Foxeye, the Colorado Spy, By O! Coomes, 260 Skit, the Cvbin Boy. By Edward Willett. 261 Blade, the Sport; or, The Giant of Clear Grit Camp. By T. C. Harbaugh. 262 Billy, the Boy Rover. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. rentias Tngrabam, By OL Coe olin J. Marshall, durick Whittaker, By ae By Col. Pr By Edward S, I rentiee, By C hazlés Morris, 268 Buster Bob’« Buoy; or, Lige, the Light-Hounse Keeper. By Cap . J. F. C. Adama. 264 Denver Doll's Partner. By F. 265 Billy, the Baggage Boy; or, i Young tective. By Charles Morris. 266 Guy's Boy Chum; or, The Forest Waif’s Mask, Comatock 267 Glant George’s Revenge. 268 Dead-Shot Dandy; or, The Rio Grande Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 269 The Quartzville Boss, By Edward Willett. 270 Denver oll’s Mine. By E. L. Wheeler. 271 Ebony Jim’s Terror. By Ol! Coomes. 272 Kit, the Girl Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh. 278 The Girl Rider; or, Nimble Ned’s Surprise. Badger, Jr. 274 Dead Shot Dandy’s Double; or, Benito, the Boy Pard. By Col. P. Ingraham. 275 Fred, the Ocean Walf. By Charles Morris, 276 Dendwood Dick Trapped; or, Roxey Ralph’s Ruse, By Edward L, Wheeler. 277 The Idiot Boy Avenger. By Albert W. Alken, 278 Arizona Alf, the Miner; or, Little Snap Shot’s Luck. By ’. C. 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