Beadle's Pocket Library (no. 41) (1884 10 22)

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Copyrighted, 1884, by Brapux any Apams, Entored at the Post Office at Now York, N. Y., as Second Chas Mail Matter, Oct. 99, 1884, 2, Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams Price, | Vol. IV. atveur. No. 98 Serta set New York. ? Fine Oeste: No, 4l, DEADWOOD DICK’S EAGLES; ° iznnn'suxe © BY EDWARD L. WHEELER,

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2 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; The Pards of Flood Bar. BY EDWARD L, WHEELER, AUTHOR oF “‘ DEADWOOD DICK,’’ ‘* DOUBLE DAGGERS,” ‘* BUFFALO BEN,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I, FLOOD BAR. Tux spring rainy season had set in in the Black Hills country—that dull, monotonous period which every miner dreads next to an attack from the In- dian marauders, for there is no working with com- fort in the chill, drenching rains that are peculiar to that wild, rough country of gold. Miners’ faces grow clouded upon the clouding of the sky, and if you are in search of long faces, and 9) ply ” who are beset with the bluest order of “blues,” look down into camp on one of those monotonously dull, wet days, and you will certainly be “ Eurekaized,” for you have found more than the acme of your expectations, Outside is the gray, sodden sky, from which the rain falls with an ease and steadiness which is pro- voking in itself; the rain-soaked earth; the roaring, rushing mountain streams swelled into great tor- rents; and the grim, rough landscape, so lonely and cheerless on such days as these. Within the rude log-cabins you will find a dozen or more miners gathered disconsolately about a evackling hickory fire, listening to the ceaseless pouring of the rain, or mayhap one of their number enlivens things b ppeceing a@ yarn. At Flood Bar, the new Golden Egg of the Black Hills, the rainy season was in its second week, and the miners were naturally not in_over-jubilant spirits. In the aforesaid time very little work had been accomplished; indeed, but afew days of pey- ing work had yet been accomplished at the Bar, “ the flve individuals who composed the popula- on. Flood Bar is in the northwestern portion of the , Black Hills, where Professor Jenny failed to find the least signs of gold, but it is not the purpose of the author, because of certain reasons, to give the exact location of the, thus far, greatest mine in the coun- try of gold. This narrative is to be of Flood Bar ani the Flood Bar-ites. ; The place in question comprises a bar, or neck of land, running into a turbid, rushing mountain s‘ream—a bar of sandy land of no great size, yet so richly impregnant with gold as to be indeed a ** Bonanza.”” From down a wild, unexplored gorge, or_ ravine. ur the waters of this stream, known os a reek, and sweeping majestically past Flood Bar, roars on down a dark, narrow canyon into the depths of the mountains, where it branches into numberless tributaries. The five persons who, at the introduction of our story, populated »lood bar, were named respective- ly—James Belmont, Old Buzzard, Squirrel Sam, Hooper Vandegrift, and Miaco Rullon. Belmont was a Virginian, of some forty years of age, and a quiet, retiring fellow, whom everybody liked. He was a thorough-going miner, a good shot, and when once *‘ riled,” a rough customer to handle, Old Buzzard was a stumpy, wrinkled old plainsman and a good hand at yarn-spinning. It was a part of his business to keep a scout about the Bar, and sup- with meat, He was the discoverer of Ry the cam : Eigod Bar; the remaining part of the “ population” straggled in one by one. Squirrel Sam was the eccentric man of the lot. He never spoke, This did not signify that he was a mule, for he had been heard singing at a distance, several times, which was evid nce to the four remaining ‘‘ pards’ that he was not dumb. But, it became a mystery, when, after unmention- able efforts, they were obliged to recollect that they had never been able to draw a word from him. What his secret was—why he refused to use his tongue, was a problem that none could solve, He was a stalwart, handsome fellow, of one-and- twenty, judging from his looks, with a bold, good natured face, eyes of brown that never quailed be- neath the strongest glance, and hair light and curl- ing. His form was supple and muscular, and he ever went armed and ready for combat. A skillful miner he was, and, moreover, a dead-shot, for on several occasions, when vagabond reds had attacked the Bar, right gallantly had he shown his prowess, Hooper a was another eccentric. A very pious sort of old gent of the very Quakeriest per- suasion he appeared. and was the cause of much amusement among the five pards. Miaco was a dwarf who had one morning been found floating down the creek, bound in a skiff of birch. He had been liberated, and as he had drifted into the secret was offered a home at Flood Bar. But, nothing relating to his past, or where he came from, could be coax: d out of him. Thus you have the * pards " presented, in brief; in the future we propose to make their better ac- quaintance. The pards each occupied a separate marques, which had been purchased from a band of roving Sioux, who had no doubt stolen them from some of the soldiers stationed in the Black Hills. But each evening they generally assembled in Miaco’s tent, for a chat and a smoke. ‘ Buzzard was absent to-night—a wild, tempestuous night, with pouring rain and crashing thunder, and only four of the pards sat hugging the fire in the dwart’s tent. Hooper Vandegrift was ensconced upon a 10g, with his pipe in his mouth, watching the fire, grimly. The others were grouped around carelessly; Squirrel Sam teading hard at a yellow-covered. novel which he had somewhere run across, “ 1t’s queer what has caused Old Buzzard to stay so long,’ commented James Belmont, as he finished scouring up his rusty sheath-knife. “ His grim old face must have frightened off a!l the game to-day, or else something has happened to him!” * Reckon he take care of himself,”’ put in Miaco yawning. ‘* He’s smart old rooster, with an eye on every side for danger, is that Buzzard, Reekon he hag se ented more Injun sneak-thieves.” " “Verily, Lhope ro'!’’ objected Vandegrift, with a genuine ‘“ah-um” of Quaker origin. ‘‘The Lord will not see fit to visit molestation upon his lambs to-night. Thy intimation thou shouldst have with- held, Miaco.’ 4 “Oh! dry up, Hoop!” the little Texan replied, in disgust. ‘Yer //ce's and (hows are not endurable this weather. Blast it, 1 hope old Jupiter Pluvius will cheese if, pretty soon, or we'll hev to build a second Noah's ark.” Fac t* Yes; between the rain and the unweleome visits of Gray Wolf's Vagabonds, our stay at Flood Bar, has been more unpleasant than profitable. What is it, Sam?” For Squirrel Sam had ceased his reading, and was listening intently. “1t's Old Buzzard returning,” said Miaco, rising, “ for [hear hoof-strokes coming down the gorge. He's comin’ like a dubbel-j’inted comet, too, fer some canse, Of one accord the miners rose and stepped with- out the tent. Phe night was inky black, and the rain fell with an ease that was wonderful—fell in straight, large dtops that counted where they fell. No wind was now blowing, and the air was. er. The dismal roar and sizhing of the pines upon the mountain-side was now tivaled by the rushing and —~ ay

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Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. 3 roaring of Squirrel Creek, swollen infS a river of tremendous volume. As the four men stood ontside the tent, and list- ened, swift, ringing strokes of steel-shod feet were heard coming down the north gorge, out of which the rising stream poured. “Rec’on ‘tain’t Old Buzzard, after all, tho’!”’ ob- served the dwarf, aftera moment. ‘ His hoss don’t strike like thet. ’Pears to meI kinder suspect who that feller is.” * You do?” exclaimed Belmont, turning. ‘‘ Who, ray?” - “y ain't a-going to tell ye, fer I ain’t sure about it!’ was the reply. ‘* Wait, an’ ye’ll see.” The little lantern over the entrance to Miaco’s marquee cast out but a faint illumination over the heads of the miners, yet it enabled the lynx-eyes of Squirrel Sam to make a discovery whicb he pointed out to Jim Belmont, and the others—simply a little water at their feet—yet it told them that the flood water of the roaring stream was creeping up and apidly submerging the bar. * We're in furit, sure enough!” assented Belmont, glancing at the black sky. ‘‘The ground is thor- oughly soaked, and this rain now but adds to the volume of the stream. After this horseman comes up we must get off the bar or be swept away; for the flood. will increase till midnight.” Nearer and nearer came the hoof-strokes. and pre- sently a horseman, with a lantern swung about his neck. was seen spurring madly down the valley, urg- his steed with yee | and spur, “Thet’s not Old Buzzard, no more’n I am,” said Miaco, as soon as he caught a glimpse of the horse and rider; “nor ’tain’t none o’—” He did not finish the sentence, for all had to leap back to avoid being trampled down by the horse, as it rushed swiftly by, across the bar. * That man is an outlaw, I'll wager my life!’’ cried Jim Belmont, ‘‘and his business down hyar is to find what kind uy a place we've got.” “Verily, I believe thou art in the right groove, James!” agreed ofa Sapen| adevout * ah-um!” * The Philistines are all around us, and verily, our lives hangeth on a thread!”* “ Thet feller was Flying Floyd!” said Miaco, after a moment of thought. “He is Deadwood D’ck’s lieutenant, and they call him the Sky-rocket. Don’t know what he can want down this way, however, since it’s whispered— But never mind just what, now. Our greatest enemy at present is the water. ’T won't do to leave the tents here; we'll hev to take 7em along with us back onter ther rocks.” “Tl go and see if the w moe retreat from the bar is clear,” said Belmont. “The rest of you tackle the tents.” s ; 4 So saying, the Virginian hurried off. The only re- treat from the bar, except by water, was to follow back and scale a rocky luff—indeed, this was the only reliable outlet from the Squirrel Creek go which the miners had yet discovered. After pass- ing over the bluff trail for a mile or more, a descent brought you into one of the many short but beauti- ful valleys for which the Black Hills country has al- ready become famous. In this valley a half-dozen colonists had built their homes; of them, more anon, Jim Belmont was gone but a few moments. When he returned, the others had the tents down and bundled, and ready to leave the bar. * You can’t git off that way!” the Virginian said, pointing over his shoulder toward the bluffs, with a grim expression revealed upon his face by the lan- tern-light. ‘‘ Allof Gray Wolf’s red Vagabonds are hugging the bluffs, waiting for us to come off the bar, so that they can riddle us with their pea-rifles.” “Then, what in thunder are we going to do?” de- manded Miaco. Log arty we hath no choice but to surrender our- selves into the power of the Philistines!” put in the er. _ ‘Here comes Buzzard now,” exclaimed Belmont, asahorseman dashed out of the gorge and drew rein before them. ‘Hallo! where you been all summer, Buzzard?” The little old man sprung out of the saddle, and shook himself in his wet garments before replying. “Great ham—I mean, good heavings!” he ejacu- lated, with a shiver, ‘ef thes ain’t one o’ ther durned- est storms, then chaw ther essence out uv a red nig- ger, as was ther exclamation o’ Jumpin’ John Rogers, w’en his wife baptized him in thér coal-scut- tle. Wet? Shouldn't wonder a bit. I’ve hed the badness soaked cl’ar outen my durned old karrack- ter in thes equinocksyel rain o’ Ploopiter Juvius, But bizness, b’ys—bizness before pleasure, as ther muskeeter sed ter ther fat victim who war tryin’ ter sleep. w’en a hull nation war callin’ fur him ter cum an’ stop remonetization. Ef ye vally yer auburn tresses, scoo/, fer ten mile above hayr air a water- stoppage, an’ w'en it bu’sts, things’ll hum down in thes direction.” ‘*But we can’t get off ‘the bar over the bluffs,” protested Belmont. ‘‘ The Vagabonds aire thar, an’ we couldn’t raise the ascent and live.” The old scout whistled bis surprise, and, then, turn- ing upon his heel, walked away toward the end of the bar, to see how much of it was submerged. When he came back, his ready wit had formed a plan of extrication from their dilemma. There were two giant linden trees growing close to where they were standing, whose densely leaved tops would not only furnish a safe refuge from the flood, but shelter them from the gaze of their Indian enemies, who beld the bluff. In a few words Buzzard explained his plan to the others, and it was aecepted. First, the parapher- nalia of the camp, including the tents, bunks, cook- ing utensils and mining implements, were hoisted up among the branches, and then the five pards of Flood Bar ascended, also. _Tke rain continued to pour down without cessa- tion, and the addition of thunder and lightning made the night more wild and cheerless. “I’m glad ter see ther fireworks, b’yees,” said Old Buzzard, in answer to someremark, ‘‘ Etspeaks o’ fair weather comin’ afore long.” Louder roared the river below them; it was filling up the whole width of the gorge from wall to wall. By and by a loud roar was heard in the distance, and Buzzard turned to his companions. “Hang on now, my rosebuds, fer ther dam hes bu’st, up ther gorge, an’ it’s goin’ ter give these trees about all the wettin’ they can stand up under!" They heard it—a roar almost deafening; the mad sea of waters was rushing toward them, CHAPTER Il. DEATH BEFORE—DEATH BEHIND, Tne valley before mentioned, which lies east of Flood Bar, was one of wondrous beauty. It had a smooth prairic bottom of half a mile’s width, from which charming slopes stretched away gently u ward until met by the gray rock of the mountains. Noble groves cr mottes of timber dotted the vale, and several n.odern residences, built of quarried stone, stocd down near these mottes, surrounded by lawns and outbuildings, and everything to make a home comfortable. The home of the Waltonbys was perhaps the pret- ties*, and one. after days of rough, tiresome travel through the Black Hills country, would have been surprised to stumble unexpectedly into th’s remote but well populated valley, where half a dozen ven- turesome colonists had chosen themselves homes an-l had worked their very hardest to beautify an improve their possessions. r. Waltonby had once been a rich man, but specu- lation and private claims had impoverished him to such an extent, that but a few thousand dollars had been left him. With this he had joined his fortunes Mat a colony, and brought his family into the ills, He had built his comely residence, and had taken

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‘the saddle, and spurred on up 4 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. pains to make its interior, and the extensive grounds — it, as handsome as his limited means would permit, A stranger approaching the place, one of these wild wet days of which we have been writing, was struck by the inviting appearance, and drawing rein at the edge of the grounds, surveyed the residence with some curiosity. He was a man of an age somewhere between twenty-five ani thirty years; with a heavily-b arded face, dark, gleaming eyes, and hair th ¢ fell half- way down his back. His form was stalwart and muscular, and his dress that of a mountaineer. ‘*So this is the home of Cyril Waltonby, eh?” the stranger mused, interrogatively. ‘He has a pretty place, I must admit, and I'll wager my life that he dreams not of my coming here, in his peace and security. I wonder if my disguise will bear close scrutiny, for I should not want to be recognized un- ul my plans are better matured.” So saying the stranger dismounted, and hitching his horse, strode toward the house. As he stepped upon the veranda, a young woman came out of the open door, and the two stood face to face. The young lady was perliaps seventeen or cighteen years of age, and formed in nature’s most perfect cast. In face she was not what a critic would call beautiful—rather ordinary in feature. with soft brown eyes, and hair like a reflection of sunlight. Her dress was plain but neat-fitting, «nd there was grace in her movement, and something that was charming about her. “Miss Ida Waltonby, I believe?’ the stranger said, raising his slouch-hat. “TI am Ida Waltonby, yes, sir,” the girl replied, shrinking back, as if by intuition that the man was oar disposed. ‘“*Who are you®” “T go by the sobriquet of Red Lark, my dear young lady. AndI have a messaze for you, by and by. But, first let me see your father, whom [ have important business with.’’ “My father is in bed, sir, and it will be impossible for you to see him!” replied Ida, unhesitatinzly, “To has an attack of his heart-trouble and will not be disturbed,” Red Lark uttered something suspiciously like an oath under his breath, and paced to and fro across the veranda, “T must see your father,”’ he said at last, stopping before Ida with a savage scowl. ‘Go tell him tat the cat’s leaped the gate, and the dog’s chased her into the woods, where she is hiding. He will under- stand. I guess.”’ Entering the house, Ida hurried up-stairs to her father’s chamber and gave the white-faced, suffering man upon the bed the message sent by the stranzer, Red Lark, ‘he words seemed to have'an electric effect upon Mr. Waltonby, for with a gasp he sat up, his eyes glaring wildly around. “Where is he?’ he gasped. “Show him to me. By the gods! I will kill the devil-possessed wretch!” “The man is down at the door, papa; had [ not best send him away?’’ demanded Ida, greatly terri- fied at the sudden rupture of affairs. “He is your eaemy, Iam sure; please let me send him away.” “Y-e-s, y-e-s, he is my bitter enemy, daughter, and though the blow is destined to fall, sooner or later, [must postpone it—must, for your sake and that of my wife, your mother. Go tell him I will not see him—that I defy his power to do the worst, Toll him never to show his face here again.” Tene i Ida obeyed her parent’s dictation, and a sivered his message to the bearded stranger. Rad Lark received it with a sardonic smile, and without a word strode down the yard, vaulted into the valley, through the drenching rain. His coming—what did it signify to the Waltonbys? “Hold! stand, you rufflanly crew, or I’ll make buzcart food of you!” The challenge was delivered ina resolute, ringing voice, by a young man, and the scene was rather a dramatie one. Mountains all around, with forest-crowned peaks, and in the center a little table-land or plateau, A score of grim, fierce ruffians stood at bay, near the center of this. facing a pair of leveled revolvers, in the hands of one whocommanded, as above—a youth, in years, thouga in bodily development aman. His stature was about the average of that of Western men, and every limb and muscle was like iron, His face was smooth, with the exception of the upper lip, which supported a slight mustazhe, He was every bit a handsome man, and yet one whom one might justly fear as an enemy. Behind him, as he stood confronting the ruffian band, crouched a young girl, not yet seventeen, who was the possessor of a rare, dusky beauty, and a shape of marvelous perfection. Indian biood mixed with American evidently coursed through her veins, but the taint would have scarcely been detected by an observant eye. “Baek, you devils!’ cried the young American, again, his aim wavering not a trifle—‘come not a step nearer, or you sh: ll die, one by one, as long asI have powder or power, This girl is mine, by mene of rescue an‘l protection, and I'll keep her, you bet yer little souls!” : A growl went up from the ruffians and their leader, a large, buyly man, of dark, swart face, gleamiag, bloodshot eyes, and a monstrous sweeping blac mustache. He was a human brute of repulsive aspect as one will often meet, and with such a crowd of backers, few men wou!d have dared to face them as this young American was doing, with so little ap- parent trepidation, “Give up the girl! She b’longs to me an’ I'll have her, or cut yer cursed head off} shouted the leader, inarage, ** You thief, you'll find when you try ter pick a flower frum our posy-bed that ye’ve got in- ter ther wrong hornets’ nest.” * Oh! no, sir rufflan; Tain’t at allafraid of you, or T'drun, I’ve seen lots of blustering bulldogs like you, and never got bit by one of them yet. Come on, if you're hankering afterany of my traffic. This girl’s goin’ back to Deadwood Dick’s fed 2 where she'll get good care. And, by the way, my hearties, you'd best watch sharp, lest Deadwood Dick gets after you, for he is not far away, and his name is ringing steel and bullets to such as you.” And so saying, Flying Floyd, the oepemetenians of Deadwood Dick. seized the maiden in his arms, and, still covering the ruffians with one pistol, began retreating io 4 by step, backward, along a narrow ridge of hog-back, which ran out from the table- land, and on each side of which yawned a frightful chasm, whose bottom must have been fathomless, judging from the dark depths. “The devils mean to try our worth, miss!’ Floyd said, glancing into the scared face of the maiden, He had found her struggling in the Rrosp of Big John Wolf, upon tumbliny accidentally down the mountain side into their camp, and had, in his dauntless way, gone at once to her rescue, with the result we have seen. ‘They are as ferocious as wild beasts, but will have to work if they get us as their prey.” “Oh! sir, I fear that we can never escape them!” exclaimed the girl, in a yoice of marvelous sweet- ness. ‘Those men are a score to your one. How can you hope?” ‘“‘Talways hope, miss. Never yet gave up the ship when there was a plank to cling to. Those rufflans will not shoot, either for fear they might also hit you, or they wish to take me alive—probably the latter, knowing as they do that I belong to Dead- wood Dick’s band!” The girl gazed searchingly into Flying Floyd’s eyes. “You really belong to Deadwood Dick’s band?’ she interrogated with dilated eyes.” . “Oh! Lam now afraid of you,” St ye

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TRA EEE “Indeed? But without cause, young lady, for no female ever found molestation or can justly speak ill of Deadwood Dick or his men. I belong among them, as lieutenant since the Prince’s return to the hills, and though it is rumored that Deadwood Dick is again upon the road, 1 can vouch that it is not to recklessly rob or plunder,” These words were spoken while puree rapidly along through the deepening twilight, which over- hung the Np gies Md mountain landscape. The course of the remarkable ridge, or hog-back, now pcaly curved and ran betw en two ranges of wering peaks, but the chasm still yawned upon either side, Ahead the view was obstructed, beyond a certain distance, by the curving. The grade of the ridge was slightly ascending, but the back was smooth, and rapid progress could be made. In some places, however, the footing grew so narrow that it was almost impossible to save one’s self from totter- ing over into the abyss. lying Floyd, however, passed these places, with- out difficulty, and safely. He was sure-footed asa mountain goat. It was a narrow, dizzy path, which none but a man of nerve would have undertaken to traverse; yet, Flying Floyd hesitated not when he thought of the pretty burden in his strong arms, ba while his gaze was fixed upon the dogging out- aws. Step by step he advanced, not knowing whither the ridge trail would lead him, but bound to take the brunette captive out of peril if it lay in his power. Big John Wolf was one of the worst wretches of ruffian t anywhere along the border, and, as leader of a an crew, had won a widespread notoriety for his cruelty. He was said to never for- get nor forgive an enemy, and Flying Floyd was aware that the mountain outlaws meant to follow him until they had a suitable opportunity to capture and punish him. To kill him outright was evidently not their desire or intention, On, along the diay hight hurried the intrepid lieutenant, with rapid strides, scarcely noticing the frightful abyss that yawned upon either side, to fall into which meant certain destruction. With Big John’s outlaws, however, it was differ- ent. They weakened in such places as this, and where Floyd walked boldly across, many of them crept upon their hands and knees. ut them behind, out of gunshot, and by quickeuing his stride Deadwood Dick's lieutenant bit them thers for a time. But his burden wasa solid weight, and before a mile had been passed over, began to tell ween his strength. Still he kept bravely on, encouraged by the assur- ance, that if he was not ning, the outlaws were not, either. They were dogging pereeveoueyy. be- pid but made no extra efforts to catch up with Ashe hurried along, and turned this important fact overin his mind, it dawned upon him like a flash that perhaps there was a cause for their not beingin a hurry—that, perhaps a trap was lying in wait for him, at the end of the hog-back into which they calculated he must fall. “It’s something, I'll guarantee!” the young man thought, glancing over his shoulder, for he had now turned back toward the outlaws. ‘ Danger is the word. Young lady, you have not yet told me your name?" “My name is Nolie, sir—Nolie Waltonby. Tamas hie pas 4 guessed, partly an Indian, For years have been a prisoner in the band of Big John, and never until to-day, have T been beyond the camp, from which we kindly rescued me, There is a secret about my birth, but I won’t speak of that, now. “*No; conversation now is difficult; but I thank ‘ou for zee ponte inme. Iam known as F'ly- 0; fter that little or nothing was said. Deadwood Dick's lieutenant kept determinedly on, his eyes gaz- \ Deadwood Dick’s Bagies. 6 ing steadily before him, On—on; then he stopped, abruptly, and began to retreat. He had found the outlaws’ trap! And a triumph- ch yell from them told that they were aware of the act. The hog-back had abrupily terminated f Below and beyond its end for the space of forty feet yawned a gulch fie to contemplate, Beyond this space or break in the path was a con- tinuation of the ridge. 5 Rapidly Flying Floyd retraced his steps for per- haps thirty yards; then with some inward excla- mation, he ec! asped Nolie closely in his arms, and bounded forward at the very top of his speed. The daring lieutenant was about to attempt the leap- ing Of the frightful gulf | CHAPTER IIl. WHAT THE FLOOD BROUGHT. Wuar a frightful position was that occupied by the five pards of Flood Bar, with the knowledge that an awful wave of water was rushing fiercely toward them from the dam down through the wild, sinuous gorge! The roar of the storm was drowned by the eater one of the in-coming flood. The jar of heavy hunder and the vivid glares of Heaven's pyrotech- nics, made the night and the situation all the more wild and awful, In the tree-top the five miners crouched, hugging hard to branches, for they were fearful that the tree would be snapped in twain by the shock of the water, or mayhap be uprooted, and carried on down the gorge. “Lookee out; she’s comin’!”’ sung out Old Buz- zard. from the very topmost branch, ‘ Hear her roar! Great ham-bo—I mean great Jerusalem! et reminds me uv the roar w'at emanated frum a young buffler bull I heer’d on_once, w’en he sat down ontera Canady thistle. Hold ter yer consti- toochins, my posies—cling to yer cross like a red- hot grizzly, an’ never let et be sed thet water washed ther Injun hate out 0’ in ther—I mean holy yoopin’!”” And it was even so. With Geatening roar, cubdveiiig Heaven's own artillery, the water came bulging in a great roar into the wider ravine, which the miners had christ- ened Flood Bar—came leaping on like some angry monster wrought to the pitch of fury by the war- ring of the elements. The miners peering from their retreat, saw all this revealed by the flash of the lightning—saw that the great flood was nearly as high as they, and then, with muttered prayers, waited. Squirrel Sam was the coolest man of the lot, for the reason that in all this awful roar and din he never spoke a word; and neither did he seem to quail beneath the horrors around him, Old Buzzard, though a “ leetle skeered,” as he afterward expressed it, was brave, and his words of cheer encouraged the others, On came the remorseless sea of boiling, foam- capped water; it struck the tree with a jarring vio- lence, and bent it half-way over, while great clouds of spray shot toward the leaden-hued sky. One moment the whole tree would be buried beneath a iant wave; the next the water would sink half-way own its trunk. Fortunately the ordeal was quickly past. In five moments the great flood had spent its force, and the waters only swashed and gurgled at the foot of the tree. But to those in the branches it had been a fearful ordeal—the worst pull by the strong arm of death that they had ever ip piace One of their number, old Hooper a ge le had been washed away, and the remaining four were more dead than alive. It was accordingly some time after the falling of the waters ere either of the sur- vivors spoke. Old Buzzard finally broke the silence, * Waal, feller-citizens, how do we stand? Are we our calendar! Moses thet oses! Hayr she comes a- ‘ RYT ep ee ee TIE

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La eae +6 Deadwood Dick's Eagles: still hayr, or aire we sum’ars else? Aire we aire we, or aire We not aire we? All on duty please answer terroilcall. Ar’ ye thar, Jim Belmont?” ** Present, all except a piece of my cheek, which a stick gouged out and appropriated !” grimly respond-" ed Belmont, “ Squirrel Sam and Miaco?” “ Both here!’’ replied the dwarf. “ And Hooper Vandegrift, the man of ‘thee’s’ an’ *thou’s’?” “Ts gone,” said Miaco, gravely, ‘The end of a floating log struck him, and knocked him clean out of time. Poor cuss hedn’t time ter say his kitten- kissems. ‘Spect he never koow'd what struck him.” “Then thar’s only four ou us, eh?” “That’s all.” “Waal, ther squintuple popylation o’ Flood Bar war a leetle too large, ennyhow, an’ one demise ain’t ter be regretted, w’en thet same demise -war no Jess a chap than an agent o’ Big John, the outlaw,”” “What! do you mean to say the Quaker—” “Was no Quaker at all, but an agent thet Big John sent down heer ter rob us 0’ our a’riferous, But I kept a watch onter his grab-hooks ter see thet he didn’t get anything.” “ By Jove! this is surprising news. How did you find it out?” “T do not ad raed to tell that. Let et suffice ter say that I found et out. I hev a way o’ diskiverin’ things w’ich sum folks don’t know nothin’ aout.’ Still hearing the water upon the bar below, the miners concluded not to venture down until day- light came. . So they remained in their relative positions throughout the whole wild, drenching night, which had been so strangely eventful. Morning at last dawned dully and gloomily, with a slight cessation to the rain from a pour to a nasty drizzle. As soon as it was light enough, the four tree-top refugees began to look around them, before descending to terru-firma, which the water still cover- ed in patches, and would until the creck fell. “The Injuns hev_ got stormed out, or else thar warn’t none!” said Old Buzzard scanning the bluffs to the east, by aid of his field telescope. “ Aire ye sure that thar war Injuns, Belmont?” ‘*So sure, thet I was induced to prick one’s throat wi’ ther end of my bowie-knife,”’ was the grim re- sponse of the Virzinian. ‘Guess the feller never knew what struck him,” C “ Waal, I guess the varmints konkluded we war washed off, an’ so *ll wait tilla more auspishus time ter visit ther Bar. Ther dirty Vagabonds aire ther dastedest, orneriest sot 0’ pilgarlics thes side o’ Jor- dan. Great interlectaalham-bo—I mean great gran- daddies! ef I war as mean as a Vagabond dog I'd hide my hed betwixt my legs an’ hire out fer a mu- seum curiosity.” “Ha! by all thet’s wonderful, I’ve made the big- gest discovery of any 0’ ye!” here shouted Miaco, excitedly, ‘‘Look! look! a cabin! a cabin!” He pointed toward that end of the bar which nosed out into the river, or rather the western end, for not only had the flood added greatly to the size of the bar, but had madeit an island by cutting in close to the bluffs and wearing a channel through, thus dividing the river into two courses, which joined to- gether at the southern termination of the bar, The miners gazed quickly in the direction indica- ted, and to their astonishment beheld, perched safe- ly down upon the extreme western end of the bar, a log cain, allin perfect shape, and intact, as it had been fetched by the flood. For it must have sailed down upon the rush of water, else how came it here? The door was shut, and the two windows which were visible to the miners from the tree-top, were securely blinded by strong oaken shutters. Whether this habitation was tenanted or not was a question, and one which was of vitalimportance to _ the four miners of Flood Bar, And they proposed to investigate the matter, and accordingly descended to the ground, . “ By all ther legal technicallities uv ther Blackstone judisdiction, this aire one o’ the funniest 0’ funny things!’’ said Old Buzzard, as they all stood upon the ground and gazed toward the mysterious visitor. ““Who evyer heerd o’ a cabin sailin’ down thru ther mountains an’ landin’ at one’s feet, when ye war jest in need o’ one? Great ham-bone thet chalked old Jon— I mean great grandaddies! Ef thes ain’t an age o’ wonders an’ blunders, may my old carkuss be utilized fer fertilizing purposes!” “Tt is remarkably strange, indeed, and a miracle how the habitation ever rode the torrent without be- ing totally wrecked,’’ averred Jim Belmont. * But. come let’s go for the old caboose, and seo what’s about her.” The dwarf Texan, Miaco, being in the lead, went ahead, and Belmont, Old Buzzard, and Squirrel Sam followed at his heels. A covering of ge mud_had been landed upon the Bar, which with puddles of water, here and there, made the walking exceedingly disagreeable, “JT hope the flood has not washed away all our gold,’ said Belmont, wiih a look around at the deso- late aspect. “‘ Things seem rather G@ubious, just at present.” ““And we can_ prepare to roost in the mud, fora week!” growled Miaco. “Ha! great God, Z'm shot!” They had approached to within a score of yards.of the mysterious cabin, when the dwarf reeled and fell, simultaneous with the crack of a rifle. “ Great ham—I mean holy lava o’ Mount Pisgy?” ejaculated Old Buzzard, catching the wounded Miaco by the hair of the head, and starting back in the direction of their former camp. ‘ Back action, ye durned galoots, ef ye don’t wanter teetotally wreck your constitution against asnag. Thar’s hor- nets in that condemned nest, wi’ sharp stingers, jes’s sure’s thar’s music in ther argumentive eend uv a horse-wi’-long ears!” An instant retreat was made, for the one shot was evidence enough that the mysterious cabin had an occupant, who was averse to receiving visitors at so early an hour in the day, if at all. Who this occupant was, or of what breed or nationality, they had no means of learning. Somo- one, certainly. who bore them no friendly feolinz, or else the shot that wounded Miaco never would haye been fired. Mico was not severely hurt—only a slight perfors- tion through the side, from which the blood flowed copiously, but not a serious or dangerous wound. hey soon had the flow of blood stopped, and th> dwarf was able to walk around. Camp was again pitched, and the four pards began to feel themselves more at home, only for the presence of the myste- riously-inclined individual in the cabin, which O11 Buzzard had christened Noah's Ark, “T don’t see that we can do anything more than to keep an eye on that shebang, and let her alore,” said Belmont, that night, as they all sat in the door of Miaco’s tent. and gazed off toward the forbidding structure, “ We ain’t strong enough to make arus') and bi’st in the door, an’ ain’t got a cannon to bom- bard et with, so what is there left to do?” “ Nothin’ but keep watch,” replied Miaco, *thourh I would mightily lite ter know who's inside. leeko they'll hev ter come out, for long tho’, fer eri, onless they’ve got an extra stock of pervisions aboard.” “Great ham—l mean Jerusalem Jinkens! do 75 fret about thet!” said Buzzard. ‘I one’t knewa feller up in Montana, who war cornered in there nt uv acanyon fer sixty-nine years an’ three hundr:1 an’ sixty-four days an’ twenty-three hours. perzac' - ly, an’ he actooaly subsisted on water all thet peer- yod, ‘ea’se he war afeared ter cum out fer fear ther Injuns would get him. Also oree knew a man who lived ter bs two bundred an’ four years azed, an’ . after he got ter be thet old, ho nevyer eat anyt:lig fer ther next century, ’ | | ;

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Deadwood Dick's Eagles. y As there was no tellmg in what way things might shape during their future stay at Flood Bar, the four pards concluded to nightly post a guard, for, not knowing chong about what force might be concentrated within the black cabin, they thought it a necessary precaution to be ready for an attack at & moment’s notice. “Tf thaire’s enny virtue in bone-aches, an’ premo- nishuns, an’ spasms down yer back-bone, I’m bettin’ high thar’ll sum day or other be high times hayr in Flood Bar, jest on account 0’ thet Noaher’s Ark, Durn my old sow’s last litter o’ pigs, but ther great equatorial snow-storm o’—I mean, this great Buz- zard wull dissect them w’at’s in ther pesky ranch.” Flood Bar one month later. Notas we have seen it before, but now a lively mining excitement, with white tents pitched upon the Bar, upon the barren, pocky shores of Squirrel creek, and even upon the bluffs and mountain-side. But the only cabin visible was that Black Cabin of the Bar, whose mystery remained unsolved. Since the influx of miners to the Bar, several attempts had been made to break into the old pile of logs, but without avail. The blinds and door and walls were nerforated with rifle loopholes, and every attack had een met with fire from the inside, with more or less loss of blood to the miners. A couple of hundred of these eager, excited humans were there, of the male sex, who were toil- ing for gold in Squirrel gulch: every foot of the Bar ad been leased by the Four Pards, at an enormous figure, they only retaining enough of the soil to keep them busy. Every foot of the Bar was undergoing @ search with pick, pan, and shovel; miners were working close around the Black Cabin, but no one after the several repulses, made bold to pry into the secrets of the mystery-enshrouded habitation. Miners were i pad os ett in the bed of the two creek channels, and up the mountain-sides, and even into the dark ravine through which Squirrel creek poured down from the north. Belmont had started a weigher’s business in_ his tent; Buzzard derived profit by bringing game into market; Miaco, who really was the best scholar and business man of the ““pards,” kept office, and bought and sold “claims” for the firm of Belmont, ye Sam, Buzzard and Co., Miaco being the “Co, And things grew livelier daily; rumors of big strikes at Flood Bar brought in men from every part of the Hills, and women, too; two enterprising indi- viduals had built a hotel; a stage-line was started from Deadwood; saloons had their inauguration hops in under canvas tents; gamblers came to ply their vocation, and last but not least, report wafted into Flood Bar upon one morning’s breeze, a name, well known in every part of the country of gold— a name the mention of which was a harbinger of excitement and peril— Drapwoop Dick! CHAPTER IV. DEADWOOD DICK’S BULLETIN. WueEN the name of the great road-agent of the Black Hills became whispered about in Flood Bar, there was an unprecedented cxcitemans, Fora con- siderable period the Black Hill-ites Had suffered no molestation from Dick’s men. This was while Dick was up in Idaho, and down at Del Norte, as related in “ Omaha Oli,” Pocket Library No. 88. But it seemed that the dashing Prince of the Road was back again, and people hugged close to their pocket-books, and regarded their neighbor more sharply, lest suddenly he should dissolve into a road-agent. A crowd of miners were sitting in Old Buzzard’s tent, one night, when a comrade digger of gold rushed in with a flushed face, and panting breath. @ was great'y excited, and related his “say” i gates, though we give it plainly for the reader's “‘I war coming in from the Musquekang valley. whar I’ve been on bizness!”’ spoke this miner, Jer Judson, by name, ‘‘when I hed an adventur’, I war comin’ thru ther dashed lonely woods, just be- yond ther bluffs, an’ et war gettm’ duskish, like. when I heerd a clatter o’ hoofs, an’ lookin’ ‘ahind a I “gam a dozen horsemen comin’ after me, at ull tilt. **Natterly, I war ruther narvus, an’ knowin’ thet "twas no use ter run, I dodged inter a clump of man- zintas, an’ squatted ‘bout as low as I know’d how. On cum ther horsemen, rippyty scoot, and a whol- lopin’ their hats inter ther air, an’ yellin’ as ef Bed- lam war let loose. I war beginnin’ ter breathe a notch easier, when I thort af war goin’ ter pass, but they didn’t—nary a bit! ney ast yanked their hosses out ter ther side o’ ther road, an’ nailin’ up a big bulletin-board, wich four on ‘em hed carried between em, ter a tree, they pasted an advertise- ment onter it, then mounted an’ galloped away, whence they hed cum. Gentlemen, one o’ them cusses war him—ther reckless road-agent devil— Deadwood Dick!” ‘*Great interlectual ham—I mean, jaws o’ ther aligater thet swollered old Neptune!” ejaculated Old Buzzard; “ ye don't say so—ye don’t aver on yer poleyia honner, thet ye see’d ther great original Dicky—ther pet galoot 0’ ther 19th century?” ““T jest do, bet yer slippers on that!” declared Judson, “ An’ I purpose thet a party on us go back an’ see w’at thet notice on the bulletin-board says.” “T second ther perpetual moshun system!’’ as- sented Buz, Accordingly a dozen men were picked out, includ- ing the three pards, Belmont, Buzzard and Miaco, and a out to inspect Deadwood Dick’s bulletin- board. Squirrel Sam bettie absent from camp, of course could not be included. The weather had now settled into mild, gentle spring, and the nights were growing warm and beau- tiful. A flood of moonlight lit the path for the party, causing them to look ee Sc white and weird, as they tramped over the rugged bluffs. The scent of wild fragrant flowers, and poh! eh ta trees, was borne deliciously upon the evening breeze. “Don’t know #s I ever saw this Deadwood Dick!"" Belmont remarked, as they trudged along, for as the distance was but a matter of a couple of miles, they had taken no horses. * You'll never want to see bim the second time, if he once gits a grudge against you,” Miacosuggested, “though he ain’t half so desprit a cuss as folks make him, _ Leetle by Jeetle a small lie gathers strength and credence, until it finally becomes a eh ged and an undisputed fact among the peo- e. In due time the party arrived in the woods which Judson had mentioned as being the place where he had seen the road-agents. It was a gloomy pine forest, through which a tolerable stage trail had been worked through to the Musquekang valleys be- ond, And justsuch a place it was as might suit he ideas of a full-fledged road-agent, for a place of operation, “Tt warin hayr, up a ways furder!" explained Judson, casting his eyes around him in rather a doubtful manner. “Hope ter gracious ther pesky galoots won't be layin’ fer us. *Spect they went back inter ther Musquekang.” “Deadwood Dick wouldn’t tech sich a sorry-look- in’ passel o’ pilgrims as we, anyhow,” declared Old Buzzard, ‘“‘onless he war purty sure thet we hed more chips than we know’d what todo with. Oh! he’s game au’ a straight caliber chap is Dickey, ef I do say et. Great ham—l mean Jehosophat! I’ve known thet boy ter do Saas w’at knocked ther seven wonders uv ther world inter a cocked six- shooter. Once see’d him stop a mad bull w’at war chasin’ a hoss-fly across a perary, jest wi’ ther ower 0” his eyes, fer he’s a mesmerist, is Dickey! But, hayr’s thar biJl-board, now!”

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eye 8 Deadwood Dick's Eagies, “Yas, this is the place,” assented Judson, as they all jo aig before a bulletin-board, which had been nailed up to a pine tree by the roadside. Upon the board was pasted a bill, which had been executed by a printing-press, and which Jud- son had seen Deadwood Dick’s road-agents post ere. And the following is what the miners from Flood Bar read, with not only surprise but wonderment: ‘*Biack Hinis, May 3d, “ Ti all whom it may concern »— “Thave come back to the Black Hills, after an absence of several months. I have not come back to rob and plunder /iovext and hard working,deserving men, but as Deadwood Dick, the Road-Agent, to wage a warfare ajainst crime and ruffianism, and the advocates thereof. The Black Hills needs a thorough purging and cleansing of the murderous wretches and ruffians who swarm within its haunts. and J’m the one to do the job, with the assistance of my men, and all I ask is the good will of the honest tof the eg pae a their occasional co-opera- jon, That of the Government I am sure of. “The friendship or good will of my future foes, I neither crave nor expect. As they have dealt with others, so shall they be dealt with. By the decree of the law we are yet outlaws, and road-agents. “ Before the end of our campaign, we hope to be Tree men once more. That is what we're working for. **So, look out for us, ye evil doers, and stand not in our path, ye Doubters, for we shall recognize all friends as foes who stand up before us in opposition. * SIGNED: Deapwoop DIcK AND His EAGLes. “N. B. My men are all among you, many in num- ber, bound to me and each other by solemn oath and therefore invincible, though invisible. “ A case of wrong against honest men by any one of my men, reported to me, will receive prompt at- tention, and punishment to the offender, We war only against evil-doers, Deapwoop Dick.” This was what the miners of Flood Bar read, and if they were amazed it is littke wonder. Deadwood Dick was again on the trail as both Roa1-A zent and Regulator, and that things were going to b> lively again within the scope of the Black Hills, they well new. Whether the good the dashing Road Prince would do would offset the bad, and the enemis he would create, was a question for time to answer, not for the men of Flood Bar to decide. In a large majority of cases they had known, or had had experience with Deadwood Dick and while many of the miners sided with the reckless Road- Agent, more cursed him, and swore dire vengeance upon his head, should he ever give them an oppor- tunity to pay him an ill turn; so that it looked bad for Dead wood Dick in his pene campaign against the ruffian element—as if he would have as many honest men to fight as of the evil-disposed. All over the Black Hills were these bulletins posted, at the entrance to every town or mining strike, and often the daring dozen rode straight into a town to do their work, distributing their heralds broadcastin the very faces of their enemies. One of the principal resorts of Flood Bar was a large circus-shaped tent kept by two enterprising men from Denver, who had drifted here with the human tide. The place was floored and well-lighted inside and bore the name of the Inter-Ocean Saloon, although, besides the saloon, it was a concert-hall or ‘pavilion and a gambling-den, where all sorts of games were run night an ners As there was no similar place in Flood Bar, of course the Inter-Ocean received the general share of the patronage, and, with good order a part of the time, and Deadwood City prices, the proprietors were reaping a rich harvest. The concert every evening: was a great attraction, the proprietors, Messrs. Hallowton and Miles, often bringing down “stars” from Denver to cater to the tastes of the dirty, rough miners, On such occasions many of the females of the Bar came in to listen to the music, quickly departing after the concert was over, for it was a poor place for respectable women, One evening a short time after the posted declara- tion of Deadwood Dick, we will look in upon the In- ter-Ocean for a few moments. Inside all was a bustle and excitement. A large crowd is gathered, and while waiting for the “ star” of the evening to appear, the gamblers offer their greatest inducements to attract the w and un- wary to their fold for the purpose of fleecing them. A large gang of roughs were, under the effects of fiery beverage, growing noisy and boisterous, and Messrs. Hallowton and Miles tried several times to quiet them down. Their efforts were, however, un- availing. There was half a hundred of the gang, and under the leadership of one of the roughest customers in all the Black Hills, Big Hank Hagen was this man’s name, and he had, on coming to Flood Bar, at once asserted his rights as “champion,” “ boss,” and “bully,” and as no one had ever had either the courage or muscle to dispute his assertion, it became a settled fact in the mind of the people that Big Hank, with his rough, devil-disposed rs, could lick the town, if he chose, which gave the burly bully double assurance of his wer and prowess, and made him naturally more bold. And as with him boldness was but the precursor of bru- tality, he became a pompous, bragging nuisance to the town, The card upon the concert boards to-night was Miss Lucille Desmond, who purported to be a New York opera-singer, but, if she did hail from further away than Denver, that dirty crowd was mistaken in ifs guess. The impression was that she was a Deadwood “ high-kicker,” or a stage-struck Hoosier gal, whom Messrs. Hallowton and Miles hoped to a harvest from. erefore the surprise of the audience, when the singer stepped before the curtain. At » glance she was anything but a can-ean dancer or a Hoosier girl, this fair, intellectual girl, with her creamy bageny = ion, her dazzling bright blue even, and long auburn hair, and a form that rivaled the shape of Venus in symmetrical grace, and a wild hoarse cheer went up from the motley assemblage beneath the ab pavilion, which nearly frightened her out of her composure. But she soon regained her confidence, and stepping forward with a gentle courtesy, burst out into such a grand straia of exquisite song, that the attention of every person beneath the canvas was enchained as by a spell. ao like it had ever been heard in the Black ills. Her voice was as pure as the tone of a silver-bell, and as sweet as the voice of a bird. Flute-like in their intensity, her wild, peculiar notes reached far beyond the tent, even, into the black, stormy night without. And her audience listened spellbound, for fier beds for the most part, never heard anything ike it, She sung once, and was about to retire, but a per- fect pandemonium of yells called her back, when a shower of wild mountain-flower bouquets fell at her feet—pouches of gold and silver were hurled in upon the stage without number, and the night rung loud with cheers and encores. For these rude and often- times rufflanly western miners have a great, heart within them. I never yet met a misr in the far ancl est. Loudest in the encores was the bullying rough Big Hank Hagen. The man’s i bes had been fastened greedily upon the songstress all through her singing, asif he longed to devour her like some ravenous — wild beast. 4 “Hurra! hoop! hoop—hurra!” he bellowed, swing- — ing his hat above his head as he stood mounted upon ~ a deal-table. : “More song, me lady—more song, or we'll bu’st ther ranch!” . _

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Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. 9 Pale and scared, for she was not used to such demonstrative audiences, Lucille again responded, and again and again, until, feeling faint and giddy, she turned to Jeave the stage. But, with the agility of a panther, Big Hank leaped from his perch, the deal-table, aeross onto the stage, beside the terrified irl, with a yell that would have done credit to a Jomanche warrior. 4“ Hold up, my sweet gal—don't be so fast ter go | ontil ye've sold me a kiss from yer purty lips!” the bully cried, throwing his brawny arms about her waist with a triumphant leer. ‘*Help! help!” screamed Lucille in horror, while she struggled frantically to free herself. But no one appeared to have the assurance, if they had the disposition, to help her, for Big Hank and his men were 5 dag) in force to-night, and interference _ meant a free fight, So no one stirred to help the poor girl—all stood and gazed upon the scene with- | Out offering assistance. | “Help! help!” she again cried, as Hagen's whisky- scented breath fanned her cheek. ‘Are there no men capa who will help me?” “Ayla cried a stern, ringing voice, “ Dead- | wood Dick is with you!" CHAPTER V. THE DEVIL'S HOLE—DEADWOOD DICK BEGINS HIS CAM- PAIGN,. WE left Flying Flood about leaping the yawning abyss—a distance of many feet to the continuation of the hog-back beyond, But what man could ever hope to leap over that ote space, with such a burden in his arms as the dusky girl whom the brave licutenant carried? Fl ya knew that positive death lurked behind him, and that there was promise of it in front, Yet he hesitated not, for he had often been face to face with the grim monster, and had grown, as it were, Somewhat reckless of the consequences, On—on he bounded, at the top of his speed, The gulf lay just ahead, a great gap in nature’s furrowed face; across it he must leap in safety or—die! Death ust surely follow a fall into that black abyss. earer and nearer he bounded toward the brink, and when upon its very edge he gathered his strength and made the fearful leap, while a yell of combined indignation,increduility and horror went up from the pursuing outlaws. They had not for a moment im- ogined that the daring road-agent would ever con- template such a thing as trying to leap the abyss; they had proposed to corner and capture him. p into the air and gracefully forward like a rocket shot the lieutenant, with his prize clasped in his arms; with dilated eyes and bated breath the outlaws watched him, in wonder at the powerin his limbs which impelled him so swiftly through mid- air. But. alas! only too soon he began to sink, far short of the goal he had aimed to reach, and down! down! down! he sunk into the black misty depths, out of the sight or hearing of man. With cries of consternation Big John Wolf rushed forward to the brink of the precipice, and gazed over, down into the blackness, But nothing could they see. A dense fog prevented their seeing twenty feet below tle uk. “Reckon et’s good-by Flyin’ Floyd, and ther gal, ' soap atone ig Satee angrily. ‘‘ We war darned . » fools we didn’t shoot the cuss, an’ git back ther gal. | As et ar’, thar’ll be red devils to pay w'en Red Lark - comes back an’ finds ther gal gone. He'll rip an’ _ sw'ar like a suck-tornader, an’ ef some o’ you fellers _. don’t get broken skulls, I’m mistaken!” | Then the outlaws turned and filed back along the hog-back, to the plateau from whence their pursuit of ng Floyd had called them, Where were the lieutenant and his dusky charge? In the few seconds he was flying through the air toward the opposite side, he had ample time to per- ceive that he had miscalculated his powers—that he was going to fall far short of the brink, and be : plunged into the awful abyss, whose depth might be I fathomless. It was a horrifying thought borne to both Floyd and his charge at the same time; but then they began to sink so rapidly that their breath was taken away. Down! down! down, through an atmosphere damp and thick—down, second after second without ces- sation, but seemingly faster and faster—into the very bowels of the earth, as it were, and yet still on and downward. When they struck, Nolie was unconscious, and a dead weight in Flying Floyd's arms, who, by a won- derful exertion of will. had kept his senses. Instead of being dashed to jelly upon a bard, rocky bottom, os the road-agent had expected, they were plunged into a deep, round lakelet or well of water, which fully broke the force of their fall, and thereby saved their lives. . As soon as they rose to the surface after their watery bath, Floyd struck out blindly through the dense darkness, in search of footing. Nolie was still a dead weight upon him, and he was nearly ex- hausted when he finally succeeded in finding a low, aoe shore, and getting out of the dark, bubbling water. It was a great relief, and he could but thank God that the result of his leap for life had been no worse, What the future had in store for them in this dark pit he had no idea; but it was his intention to find outas soon as possible. If the chances of escapin we eas ill-favored as the place was ill-smelling, his lope of life was indeed slender. And the sluggish- ni ss of the waters oe the thought to him that this strange mountain lake had no outlet. Laying Nolie upon the sand, he proceeded to wring the water from her garments, and then from his own; after which he took a tin case from his pocket and produced some matches which the water had not spoiled. By fceling around along the shore he was soon successful in gathering an armful of fagots, which he ignited, and fanned into a bright blaze, that lit up the surrounding scene with wonderful distinct- ncss, and he was able to discover something about their situation, The lake was considerably larger than he had anticipated, probably covering something like twenty acres of bottom. The abyss, according to this must be the narrowest at its commencencent above, grow- ing a great deal wider as it descended. As well as Floyd could determine, the lake had an outlet some- where, under the shelving cliffs upon the opposite shore, and a great bubbling in the center of the lake showed the existence of a large spring beneath the surface, A narrow shore ran nearly all around the water basin, but otherwise this singular body of water was walled in by giant mountain-sides that no human power could scale, After making these observations, Floyd gathered more pine fagots, of which there was a plenty that had tumbled down into the abyss, and replenished the fire, after which he set to work at restoring Nolie to consciousness. By the application of water, and liquor from his canteen, he soon had her in full possession of her senses and speech, and they stood at the fire to dry their garments, while a Wades Mt expression was wrought upon their two faces, both of which were handsome in their different types. “We're in the Devil’s Hole!’ exclaimed Nolie, with a frightened look in hereyes. ‘*‘ How did we ever get here alive?” * ny faking into the lake we saved ourselves,” Floyd replied. ‘Do you or Big John and his men know aught of the place?” “No more than that it is said to be bottomless.” * Which was but a conjecture, en ro see that we have fourid a bottom. But the next thing is to find a Bed out of the place.” “Yes. But maybe there is no way out. What _ then? ‘ “Well, then we shall probably be compelled to

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10 frets, ove home here for the rest of our natural ives. “But what would we live on? We should starve for want of food.” : “Not if we could manage to subsist upon fish, which abound in Fp plenty in this remarkable mountain lake. e have enough wood here to last for years, so that I think we could manage to get along somehow. But before preparing ‘or a life- long stay, we must discover if there is no way to es- eape. To play Robinson Crusoe in the bowels of the earth is not any part of my calculations, if we can get out.” “ Deadwood Dick ts with you!’ and the audience gazed breathlessly on as they beheld the road-agent — upon the stage, a revolver in either grasp— the same daring, resistless Deadwood Dick, whose fame and deeds been heralded throughout the lafid—handsome, dare-devil Prince of the Road, who never hesitated to face death in defense of a wo- man. Straight upon the stage he sprung, with the eyes of nearly all Flood Bar turned upon him as he caught Big Hank Hagen by the throat. “Help! help!’ the bully bellowed, releasing his grasp upon Lucille and turning upon the road- agent; ‘‘whar aire ye, pards? Roll up—piteh in, an’ we'll grind thes ’ere cuss inter ashes!” But though their leader thus appealed, not one of the ruffian’s crowd moved; they stood as if riveted in their tracks, with too little assurance and faith in their own prowess to attack the man who, perhaps, of all men, was the most feared by these denizens of the Black Hills. Not a move they made, nor did the “‘ honest * element of Flood Kar, for they were secretly rejoiced that Big Hank had at last found his master, for the two men were now fight- ing deaperately with knives—fighting for life and eal A breathless silence crept within the great pavil- ion; not a breath scarcely or a sound save that of the two duelists and the clashing of their knives; every one stood watching with intense interest, for a great deal depended upon the issue. Should Big Haik go under, Flood Bar's greatest nuisance wonld be disposed of; at the same time if Deadwood Dick were to fall, the Hills would be rid of a scourge greater than death itself. These were the two opinions, and more were there who sided with the bully than wi h the road-agent. The contest was waged with unabated fierceness. Big Hank had received several ugly cuts, which made him furiously mad. Dick was bleeding freely from his adversary’s attempt at carving, yet he was apparently not the least angered. That same reck- less coolness and composure were his, in battle or out; he feared neither man nor devil; he fought with ease and com smile restin, grotesque countenance, and occasionally he would give vent to his feelings by a yell ef delight in | such Moments, for instance, as when Dick would tantalize” a vein of his adversary. uirrel Sam, no matter what were his feelings, never spoke, but occasionally a smile of exultation would er about his mustached mouth. Great arithmetical ham-bo—I mean great Je- hosephat!” roared Buzzard, dancing delightedly about, as the road-agent parried the brute blows and an in some ra fine thrusts, ‘* Old Moses who in ther rushes did vegetate! at him, Dickey, ye fasted skunk! Put in yer work, ye little disease'o’ destruction} Make ther pilgrim bite ther end off’m Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. hes own constitcochin. Actooally seed a feller u in Montana, onc’t, gents, w’at ked swalier hisself, turn inside out, an’ then outside in erg’in.” Clash! clash! went the knives of the duelists. The blood from their wounds stood in little poois upon the stage, or ran its way across and disappea' in achance crack. Blood soaked their garments and spotted their faces, and still they battled on, each determined to kill the other. Of the two, Big Hank was the weaker, for it was perceptible to all that his strength, courage, and resolution were giving out; but Deadwood Dick did not seem to be weakened by his terrible loss of blood; he was, as # were, made of steel—no give ou» in him. How long would both hold out? How long could it last? “Hoop! yip! hooray!’ shouted Oid Buzzard, prancing around within the limits of a table-top, on which he was perched; “ game is thet same Dickey, gentlemen—game cl’ar ter ther eend o’ his fingers an’ toes; yes, sir-ce! He’s a great cavortin’ lamb frum ther old buckin’ flock, J tell ye—a ginnywine skewrupshus galoot, w’at kin teetotally diskount any hyena ye evyer see’d. Three cheers fer Dick Harvis, gentlemen, off ye don’t object!” Aad these miners of Flood Bar evidently did not object, for, immediately after the cld man’s pro- posal, the pavilion rung with a great triple chorus of cheers. ““Thet’s ther style o’ ticket ter vote, gentlemen!”’ continued the irrepressible seout—*‘ ther very same ticket, you bet yer brass jewelry. Great deceptive ham-bo—I mean Jehosephat, yes! My name is Buz- zard, feller-citizens, an’ Mr. Chairman—Venjamin Baltimore Brewster Buzzard from Bumble-bee county, Gopher State, an’ reddy am I ter sw’ar by ther star-bangled spanner on Deadwood Dick.” In the mean time Deadwood Dick was bringing matters to a close. The burly bully, Big Hank, was fast growing weaker, and it was only the matter of a few mo- ments, ere he must succumb. Dick could, as it were, have s#ain him easily enough, but this was his intention. He wanted to merely cow the wret@M, and make him docile, A few more blows, then Big Hank staggered back, threw up his hands and sunk upon the floor, He was done for. His wounds, none of which were probaly serious, had overcome his ferocity, and e was aware of his defeat. * Enough!” he gasped, and then fainted outright, amid uproarious cheers for Deadwood Dick from the crowd. Which the young road-agent received without visible manifestation, as he restored his knife to its sheath, and turning, assisted the now almost un- conscious Miss Desmond to her feet, and con- ducted her behind the scenes. The crowd yelled for him, but he came not; they continued to yell, which had the effect of bringing out Mr. Miles, one of the proprietors of the Inter-Ocesn, who respectfully announced that Deadwood Dick had already taken his departure. CHAPTER VI. ELIJAH SWAIN, HISTORIAN, FTC. Yrs, Deadwood Dick was gone, and these people of Flood Bar had to content themselves with the knowledge. But when the men got together, on the following day, and discussed and iscu: mat- ters, it was made a universal decision that if the young road-agent bravo ever showed his face in Mlood Bar again, he should not be suffered to es- cape. And with this object in view, a party of the “good and honest” men of the Bar formed them- selves into a band of Vigi'antes, swearing death to Deadwood Dizk and his men. > On the following day a crowd of loafers were lounging about the tent of Old Buzzard, listening to the old eccentrie’s yarns concerning his exploits in the past, and smoking BP ie Ree" tobacco than, would stock an ordinary tobaceo boft, ~~

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_ Virtue o’ sum obligations wich we hed to Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. 11 While they were thus lounging, and watching the blue-shirted miners of the Lar at their work in the broiing spring sun, they were interrupted by a comical-looking individual who had approached, and was endeavoring to attract their attention, by Sesticulations with a blue cotton umbrella. He was of the medium stature, with a face hid be- hind a mass of bricky-red hair and beard, his nose ard gleaming eyes being ail that was visible of flesh about his countenance. He was clothed in cordu- roy breeches and vest, and a long faded swallow- tail coat while his feet were Mmeascd in heavy bro- gans, and a battered plug hat ornamented his red unkempt locks. His make-up was generally con- Cucive to laughter, while the redness of the end of lis organ of scent was more than assurance of goud health; it suggested ‘** bummer.” * Waal, waal! Jehosephat an’ ther ham-bone o’ old Joner! Whatd’ye want?” demanded Buzzard, a grim suggestion of fun lurking amidst the stain of *terbaccy ’ juice in the corners of his mouth. '* Wa't for d’ye stand thar a-wigglivg o’ thct umbreller at us, an’ never saying anything? Be ye ag’ost, a hog- goblin, or an automater? Or be ye tongue-tied, or ‘ot dumb! For ther Lord’s sake do say sumthin’ ter reak ther mernotonous state o’ ther siltywation. Sing, orate, grunt, or ask us ter come’ an’ see ef et looks damp an’ liable ter rain water ter drink. **An’ ef et don’t rain water, they keep an excel- lent substitute in ther shape o’ prime old mountain- dew, a couple o’ doors above here.” “Yas, [don’t mind ef I do treat, boys,’ was the drawling response ina tone that was purely Yankee. “ But, first, let me interdooce ter yeou a few iten s o’ my business heer, fer ye must see 1’m a business inciined man. My name, sirs, ar’ Elijer Swain, o* Swainville, Swain county, Maine. I have graduated in five colleges of the State, an’ hev branched out into life as a historian and biographer. I have writ- ten several histories of the United States, an’ of all ther prominent men o’ ther day, none of which hev yet been put upon the market because I ordered them ter be withheld. Iwill contract to write up any o’ yer biographies, gentlemen, at five cents a line, an’ not write less than a thousand lines: an’ if your life has been uneventful, I'll add a few terrible adventures and hairbreadth escapes for a slight ad- vance on the price of the biography, an’ ef ye want ter be killed off at ther end, I shall be glad to ac- commodate ye, hey appropriate funeral ceremonies and a thirty-eight foot marble shaft erected at yer he'd. Anythingin my line ter-day, gentlemen?” “Guess not,”’ replied Puzzard, with a wink at the crowd, ‘‘Reckon my history wouldn’t sell very well. Great deplorable ham-bone,no! I’m too well known, I tell ye! Whar kin ye perambulate, frum ther north pole ter ther south—frum ther east pole ter ther west, whar ye will not run across ther name an’ fame of Old Avalanche, ther great Injun Anni- hilator—ther great boreal disease o’ annihilation and extinckshun—ther terrific an’ original eppydemic o° these lattytudes an’ longytoads! for Avalanche am I, feller-cittyzens, an’ no mistake—ther notorious, no-eared pestilence of ther Nor’west. No! no! guess ye kan’t ‘rite my hist'ry ter-day, fer et’s faithfully nseribed on ther rrem’ry o' every feller w’at’s seen = read o’ me, ’twixt heer an’ ther line o’ ther equa- * Wal, et ar’ tcc bad, T sw’ar!”” commented Elijah, dolefully, “* but ene disappointment hedn’t orter dis- courage one strong-minded man like me, nohow. er + ae yer biographical records, gentlemen, er-day But these men of Flood Bar shook their beads. They had no desire to become famous, and have their lives carried by history before the eyes of fu- ture generations. “Well, there’s no use o’ goin’ around wi' one ness wat won't pay, an’ tharfore I combined another with mine. Ther Government, ered in ther, appointed me U, 8, Coroner, I received the ap- intment as an honor fer ther good my biographies one the rising generation. Tharfore, gentlemen, do ye know uv any new cases 0’ suisancide or murder, or any defunct bodies I can sit on, and thereby derive my commission from the Govern- ment?’ “Guess ye’re bound ter be disappointed in thet line, too, Elijer,” replied the Annihilator, facetiously. “*Hain’t seen nary a corpuss layin’ around loose fer a month 0’ Sundays. ‘Spect ef ye keep in ther reer eend of Deadwood Dick, tho’, that ye’d be liable ter ind suthin’ ter set on, ef it weren't no more’n a dead coyvte.” “ a * Oh! 1 don’t include the animal kind,” said Elijah, stifly. “I deal only with defunct corpses 0’ col- lateral humans.” And then he turned and walked out upon the bar, where a hundred or more men were busily engaged with } an and shovel. A laugh of derision followed him, for so green and awkward appeared he, that the risibililies of a saint might have been aroused at sight of him. “ZT tell you what!” said Jim Belmont, to Old Buzzard—now, by his own confession, the veritable Old Avalanche—as the eccentric individual tramped away, ‘thet feller is either crazy, an idict, or is some sharper in disguise. Iam inclined to the latter theory, for that is all bosh about his b« ing a biogra- the so forth. I'll bet he can’t read his A, B, 8 ‘Oh! great marrow o’ ther bone w’at old Joner swallered, thet’s nothin’, Jimsy — absolutely no more’n a pizmire in an ccean o’ merlasses. Once know’d a feller w’at got rich takin’ ther fotygrafts 0° Soo Injines—fact, by gracious. An’ soon old Stick- in-the-Mud larnt the art, an’ lastly, they tuk thar artist’s picter as he war performin’ jimnasticks ie in ther atmosfere, wi’ a tight cord around bi neck, “Well, if there ain't sumthin’ about that feller, concealed from us, I’ll eat a fat Greaser,”’ replied Belmont, and the Virginian meant it, too, for he had a keen eye for observation and reading charac- ter, that rarely ever led him wrong. But, as if innocent of all these suspicions against him, Elijah Swain continued faithfully on around Flood Bar, making bis proposals, and, strange to sey really taking a few contracts. ‘or some were there among the miners who be- lieved they were g ing to be eternally made famous by this modern solicitor and historian, whose per- suasive argument led them to ! elieve and invest. That night was a hot one for early spring, witha clear and hazy sky, and very little air stirring. Af- ter the cessation of all labor, the miners might have been seen strewn about the Bar and along the tented creek shore, engaged in cleaning their weapons, smoking their pipes, or washing out a clean shirt, foras yet the a mond-eyed Chinaman had not made }is advent at the Ear, and conse- quently every miner who had no family was his own laundryman. ‘ , Avalanche, Belmont, Miaco and Squirrel Sam were lounging in front of the latter's tent, watching with indifferent curiosity the tide of humanity about them, when Belmont spoke up, excitedly: “Listen! listen! What woman on the Bar has such a voice? Even Miss Lucille Desmond cannot equal it!” ‘It is perhaps she,” suggested Miaco, as all hands listened earerly, “fer she air the best singer I know of at the Bar now.” “No, it’s not her,” replied Belmont ‘* Hear! it comes from the direction of the Black Cabin!” His words were true. Floating toward them from the direction of the mysterious Black Cabin, came the melodious strains, varied and wild in tone, the voice being as pure and unwavering as the lark’s note or the trill of a flute. The words of the song could not be heard, but the song itself was exquisite. Weirdly beautiful run; the peculiar throbbing vibrations of the well-cul- tured vcice, and then, when nearly the whole of

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12 Deadwood Dick's Eagles. Flood Bar, as it were, was spell-bound by the en- chanting melody, it died out in a strange, wild, mournful shriek, blood-eurdling and demoniac. The Four Pards exchanged glances. “Thar’s something wrong,” declared Belmont, scratching his head thoughtfully, ‘an’ I’m wonder- in’ what. ‘Pears to me like asef they’ve got a crazy person penned up in thet cabin.” “Or sum’ wild beast,’? suggested Miaco, “Great ham-bone w’at performed old Joner’s last resident’s message, no!’’ replied Old Avalanche, n disgust. ‘ Ye don’t suppose a wild annymal kin sing, do ye?” ‘What is your opinion, then, old man?” demand- ed Belmont. ‘I have been watching you, and see that you have formed one.” “Eh? w’at aire thes great destructive eppydemic’s opinion, ye ask? Waal, I hev jest rented et out, an’ kin’t tell ye. Thes heer old cavortin’ disease aire goin’ ter know ther secrets o’ thet cabin, or slip an eccentric, sure pop. Old religious an’ antediluvian ham-bone, w'at war ther last sickness uv old Joner! Lf thar’s humans in thet Noaher’s Ark, this notori- ous snow-flake aire goin’ ter find et out, an’ make ‘em pull down their blinds.” Nomore of the singing sbricks were heard in the cabin, however, that night, and Flood Bar's people's minds again were quieted into repose. But something occurred on the following night, which threw the little town into a turmoil of excite- ment, for on awakening in the morning, it was found that the Bar and its inhabitants had been robbed / Yes, robbed of all the gold or currency upon their persons—not only one but all—every mn in the mines! Inthe dead of night the robbery had been silently performed, while slumber held the people in its deep trance. Cleaned out of thousands of dollars’ worth of pre- cious gold and greenbacks was the little town on Rosters Creek, and as thre wers no pretensions of religion there, of course the profanity among a cer- tain class was great. Deadwood Dick, agreed these miners, was the rob- ber—Deadwood Dick who had declared himself the friend of the honest man, and the enemy of outlaw- ry andruffianism, Who else could the daring act be attributed to? “Don’t b’lieve nothin’ o’ ther kind!"' was the sole response of old Avalanche, when he was questioned concerning his views of the case; “’twarn’t Dickey at all, no more’n ‘twar President Hayes, or sum other high-toned offis-holder, No, sir-ee, 'U! bet ther sharpest tooth in my old jaws thet et warn't Dick. Great unsophisticated ham-bone w’at equilibriated old Joner! thet same cavortin’ pestifferous Dick wouldn’t no more steal on honest earnin’s, than he’d bu’st his inderwidual b’iler!”’ But these Flood Bar-ites were not all of the veteran Annihilator’s opinion, and fierce and vindictive was the spirit against Deadwood Dick, Large rewards were offered for the dashing out- law, and the Vigilantes were on the alert. The great Lucille was booked for another concert, that night, and it was expected the dare-devil road- azent would be present, Therefore, the Vigilantes were on hand, in disguise, ready to nab the dashin, pane upon his appearance, But they were destine o be disappointed. Neither Deadwood Dick nor any one resembling him was seen in the at mass of humanity, and Lucille sung on to-night without mo- lostation, for Big Hank Hagen, though present, was too badly used up to show his prowess again, when he found that the songstress had at least one friend in the mining-camp. But with all the ruffianly des- Pine bitterness of his evil nature, the Flood Bar ully pow equally loved and hated the fair singer— loved heras well as he was capable of loving any one or anything, and hating her because of her ter- ror of him, . And knowing that she feared him, he yearned for greater triumph over her—yearned to possess her an:| crash her proud spirit as the Texan horse-tamer frightens the young wild horse into submission to his will. _ Hagen sat in an obscure corner of the saloon dur- ing the concert, and watched with evil in his blood- shot eyes, a peculiar vindictive smile lurking about his coarse mouth. When she appeared for the last time he arose and glided from the tent, a crafty expression upon his sinister countenance. He still had the use of his left arm, and springing upon a horse that was standin; at the door of the saloon, he shook the reins, and en ed along the creek shore to the ford to the ar, just below the rising eastward bluffs. Here he dismounted and concealed his animal be- hind a thicket of firs, while he himself crouched in hiding, and waited. Below, him and across the waters of the creek gleamed the lights from a score of miners’ tents that were located upon the Bar, whiie further on, upon the opposite shore, were more of these canvas habi- tations, saloons and stores, similar to those which had been erected upon the eastern shore, along which ran the trail leading into the rg oe canyon, ae several paying quartz lodes had been discov- ered, Big Hank had not long to wait; he expected the peat, Lucille to soon come along and pass over the ong foot-bridge to the Bar, where she procured boarding and lodging with a miner's wife, and soon he heard rapid footsteps approaching. But they were clearly not those of a lady—too heavy, quick and elastic forsuch. A man was com- ing to cross the ford—who? CHAPTER VIL. THE ENTRANCED ANNIHILATOR. “Curse the girl! why don’t she come?” the bully muttered, impatiently; *‘ and who is this cuss com- ing along to skeer my bird away? Blast him, I’m a notion to salivate him through ther pate an’ chuck him in the creek.” But on the new-comer's closer approach, Hagen concluded not to adopt his proposal, for the man was the silent member of the Pards of Flood-Bar— Squirrel Sam. Handsome and man'y looked the young miner, as he strode along with head erect and eyes glancing around, and Hagen secretly envied him his good looks. But gts Sam was not mo- leste1, as he stepped upon the long, shaky suspen- siou foot-bridge and passed over on the Bar. “The next will be the gall’? Hagen muttered, as he continued to crouch in his concealment, and lis- ten tothe sounds upon the still night. “Ef I kin only git my clutches upon her, one’t, never fear but she’s mine, safe enuff. These Black Hills hes got plenty o’ safe nooks ter hide a gal in, an’ I'll be ther owner uy as pure a piece o’—”” He stopped and listened. Footsteps were again approaching, and this time they were light and rapid, which indicated to the scheming villain that the fair songstress of the Inter-Occan establishment was at band. ‘ And crouching like a panther in his lair Hagen waited—waited until the footfalls sounded just in front of him—then he leaped to his feet and out from his cover, with a yell of great triumph. But that yell turned to a growling curse, as he beheld, instead of the expected Lo no less a person than Deadiwo d Deck standing facing him. Yes, Deadwood Dick, who had punished the bully of the Bar, a few nights before, and for whom the miners of Flood Bar now offered large sums. If Hagen was astonished, Dick was probably not less §9; yet he was instantly upon his guard, with a revolver in his hand, ready for use. “Hello! what do you mean? Have you turned highway robber?” the Prince asked, his tone tinged with sarcasm, ‘‘I expected to find your carcass ly- ing in some hole, hereabouts, de i ubow the spony, of some philanthropic soul to it.” “Oh! did ye?’ sneered. Hagen, recove oe his composure, somewhat, although he could not but x | t } i j {

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I I AS erat Deadwood Dick’s Eagies. i3 a ——s: a —ae feel uneasy when Deadwood Dick had the drop on him. ‘“ Waal, I ain’t dead yet, ef ye did accidentally carve me sum. Didn't take me for a weak calf, I hope? Ef ye did, thar’s whar ye make a mistake, fer, Mr. Deadwood Dick, or whatever-yer-name-is, you aire my prisoner.” “Your prisoner? By what authority?” Dick de- manded, coolly, “None o’ yer danged bizness—’cept that, I want ye ter surrender, or I'll bu’st yer jug fer ye, in style, an’ give ye ter the Vigilantes.” “Oh! don’t—please don’t!” mocked the road- agent, ‘I know you wouldn’t harm a poor innocent little thing like me!" Big Hank did not Sia except with a curse, as he leaped forward to seize his enemy; but there was a howl of raze, and a sharp flash and report, under which Hagen went to the ground, “There, you brute, I guess maybe you'll keep uiet, now, for e spell!” Dick muttered, spurning e body with his foot. Then he turned away, and crossed the foot-bridge onto the Bar, moving with exceeding caution, for to be caught napping by the now indignant Flood Bar- ost Sagar battle, and a hundred chances to one, of eath, He had not been gone ten moments when the songstress came along in company with Messrs. Miles, of the Inter-Ocean establishment. They saw the dead bully lying by the roadside, and Miles gave a breath of relief. “One good riddance, thank God!” he ejaculated, devoutly, ‘Some one’s made a funeral for one of the worst ruffians in the territory. Flood Bar, ’m sure, will feel relieved.” Old Avalanche, Belmont, Miaco and Sam were sitting in the dwarf’s tent, later the same evening, smoking and spinning yarns, as was their wont when there were no fights or excitement outside to attract their attention. “Ketch Deadwood Dick!” the Great Annihilator was saying, in contempt at some previous remark; “no, sir-ee! nary a ketch of a feller who signs the eend is his luv-letters wi’ thet same notorious me. “ Well, if Deadwood Dick much longer evades the law and justice, it'll be far beyond my expectations,” said Belmont. ‘‘ Why, every other man in the Dar, nearly, has now joined the Vigilantes, and sworn death to the dare-devil road-agent.”’ “TIT don't ¢ a durn ef every uther galoot, an’ eee other galoot’s next-door-neighbor, hes j'ined the igilantes; thet hain’t signicafistic thet they’re a-goin’ ter sift their fingers through Dickey’s beauti- ful hair. Great Centennial ham-bone thet perplexed old Joner! et aire my solemn wish thet ef they don’t let ther boy alone, w’en he’s offered ’em fa’r induce- ments, thet he'll pitch inter ‘em, an’ lick ‘em like thunderation. Grasshoppers an’ religyus buzzards! Ef Dick do evyer git his back up, ag’in, I tell ye things’ll smoke, an’ ye kin bet yer constitoochin on't. Why, sar, ef ye war let heer uv sum o’ ther wonder- ful exploits Dick’s did, yer hair’d fly up on end so quick thet et’d jerk yer scalp off—fact, by gracious! Once know’d uv a similar sarcumstance, up in Mon- tana. | Atter ye heer et ye ken’t doubt my word in sayin’ thet ‘iwar wonderful. Ther case war sumthin’ like this: A feller had lost his first wife an’ married asecond. But he still luved ther,fu’st, an’ used ter go set on ther top o’ her stun every Cay, an’ whittle up pieces o’ rails as offerings sacrificial ter her Rhee One day, while sittin’ thar, he felt a cold, clammy hand lain onter his cheek, an’ his hair stuck up on end so quick thet ther electricity uv ther mo- ment completely ripped off his scalp, jerked his neck out o’ j’int, an’ dislocated his back-bone. They buried ther poor galoot next day, an’ his ashes aire now Soaked inter lye, deep down in Terrance Firma, or ye kin call me a liar!” ? ~ “Avalanche,” broke in Miaco, ‘I do solemnly be- lieve. meaning no ‘fense, 0’ course, thet_ ye aire ther wu’st liar in existence. 1 once knew a feller who told a lie a minnit ev’ry day fer sixty years, an’ then con- tinued ter work dubble time ther next forty; but, darn me ef I don’t b'lieve ye kin beat thet.”” ‘“Hain’t goin’ ter try, Lilliput. Great forsaken ham- bone, no! I ain't one side o’ a buffler-Lull ter yi, w’ich aire useless. Ha!—’’ : The old man here started, and stopped abrupt ly in his speech—became rigid and motionless, his face as pray as granite rock. Not a muscle moved in bis ody, and his breath came very slowly. In silent wonder his three companions looked on In no manner could t ey account for the strange change that had so suddenly come over the old man. But a voice, seeming to come from among them, soon spoke, and the words produced full as much mystery as the Annihilator’s antics, ‘Lay down, Avalanche!” the voice commanded, sternly, and to the astonishment and amused mysti- fication of the three spectators, the veteran scout got carefully. upon his hands and knees, and roiled over on his back with a disapproving snort. “None of your growling, Alva!’’ cautioned the voice of the unseen speaker, from another Sime of the tent. “I won't bave it. Shut your fly-trap and your eyes, and tell me what you taste?” “Tarant‘ler-juice, by ther great ham-bone!” was the quick response. ‘** And what do you smell, Alva?” maces is mud-turtle and clam salad!" was the reply. F * Ah! two very rare dishesold man, which is con- clusive that you have seen better days. Now then, raise yourself to a sitting posture, and cast your eyes about you, and tell me what you see,” said the same cool, stern voice, which now seemed to come down the smoke-hole of the tent. 4 Accordingly, the Great Annihilator rose to a sit- ting posture, and gazed on ore side with apparent sharp esha although the three miners noticed that his eyes had a vacant, glazed look, “Well! well! what do you see?” again demanded the mysterious voice, coming directly from in under Belmont’s chair, and causing the Virginian to spring to his feet in consternation and surprise. “T see th-the Black Cabin!’ was the response of Avalanche, slowly. Belmont, Miaco and Squirrel Sam now pricked up their ears, for the dialogue was growing more inter- esting to them, “Can you see inside of the cabin, old man?” “Great ham-bone, yes!” ‘““Ah! that is good. There is a mystery you must solve since you have the key, Avalanche. hom do you see inside the Black Cabin?” ‘* A man—an or’nery-lookin’ galoot, too.” “Indeed! Describe him.” “‘Antediluvian bam-bone, yes. Guess I reeky ther figger-head, now. Seen him down ter sou’. Big cuss, wi’ dark bazzoo, black eyes and_ black mus- tacbe. Dressed in ther toggery o’ a herder frum ary coe at “= “Armed, I su se? “Moses in t or bullrushes, yes. More’n ph ‘leven hoels in ther side o’ ther wall, heart, hig \ wi’ ther snoots o’ rifles an’ revolvers stickin’ inter ‘om. Asides, thar’s a hull arsenal o’ tools in his belt.” “Ts this all you see?” “All, pard, ’cepting ther furnitur’.” “Be careful, Alva, don’t lie to me lest I knock you down with my finger. Look sharp, and see if you can’t discover another room.” Avalanche was now seen to bend forward, and pare keenly around, a scowl upon his furrowed fore- ead. “Yes!"’ he replied, presently, “ there’s a door w’at opens inter ernuther room.”’ “Ah! that’s more like it. Unlock that door and look inside. Take a careful suryey. There, now; what do you see?”’

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“Great repinin’ ham-bone w'at got snagged ag’in, ther larnyx uv old Joner! et’s a Injun critter!’ ex- claimed Avalanche; with a sniff of disgust, which, for some strange reason; caused a broad smile to illumine the face of Squirrel Svum—*‘a reg'lar old eavortin’, bucking she-male squaw, an’, holey daru- in’-needie uv old Cleopatra, she’s got the maddest kind 0’ ‘jims!’ ” “Ts she old and ugly?” “Moses who did through ther rushes rush, yes uglier an’ ornier lookin’ then my Florence Nightin- gale, or even old Samantha Snudgrass who lives up at Yankton. Mitey, but she’s humbly, geritlemen, aire thet Samantha, an’ she’s been known ter fright- en away ther birds an’ bufflers fer ten year on a stretch, jest wi’ her old becoming mug.”’ “Stop, old man; you're getting clear off track. Has this Indian woman a mad look?” * You bet yer a’riferous she hes! Looks madder than a wassup w’at’s hed his stinger tuk.”’ “Ts she a prisoner?” “ Shedn’t wonder.” “*Woll, now look around you, and perhaps you may see something more that is iateresting. Do you know who is questioning you?” “Dol? Ham-bons w’at war cremated by old Jo- ner, yes. I see ye even efIain’t lukin’ at ye. I know yer voice like I do tarant’ler-juice. You aire Deadwoo t Dick!” Belmont and Miaco uttered an exclamation at this disclosure, and Squirrel Sam simply squinted one eye, and nodded for the others to be still. “You hi the ail plum on the head then, Alva!” replied the voic> of the invisible inquirer, tuis time coming from the earth at the Annihilator’s feet. “Tam Dealwood Dick, whom Flood Bar Vizilantes long to clasp in their fond embrace, But they haven't got me yet, Alva, and when they do I'll let you know. But. look! it strikes me that thera is another apartment to the Black Cabin, which you have not explored, is there not?” “Darn my old mule’s capacity fer oats, but ye're right. Yonder is another door, but it aire heavily barred, au’ I’m gittin’ ter old an’ weak ter bu’st doors.” “Pshaw! You lack confilence. Look at m2, and T will reassure you.” ‘The eyes of the old man roved along th» canvas siding of the tent, and finally stopped, a 1d the three watching miners saw a pair of magnetic blie'’t eyes and part of a face peering in through a slit in the canvas. But the face disappeared, a moment later, anl the voice continued: “You feel stronger, now?” “Great ha n-bone, yes. J kin lick enny man w’at sez ther Annihilation aiu’t the greatest achievement in the hull world, en’ part o’ Canady.” “Well, ne see the room, now?” ““Yes. Thar’s a gal in et—purty as ary lialac ye ever see’d!”’ “*Ha! that is the kind of news we are in want of!" returned the voice, now tinged with excitem nt. “This girl—has she red hair?” “Great hifalutin’ ham-bone, yes—redder than ary rum-cullered nose ked be. Ther galiscrying, now, wi’ her head buried atwixt her hands.” “Ah! and have you ever seen her before, Alva, and know you her name?” “Ay! down in Del Norte I last saw her, for she is Leone Harris, ther wife o’ Deadwood Dick!" There was a smothered imprecation from without the tent—then Avalanche suddenly started in his mesmeric trance, bis hands clutching. “Fire! fire! the Black Cabin is afire!” he or breaking the spell and springing to his ee “Fire!” eried Deadwood Dick, through the aper- ture in the canvas; then he was heard dashing away. Fire yelled the crowd of miners, rushing by. And all was excitement ina moment. Deadwood Dick's Eagles. CHAPTER VIII. THE BURNING CABIN—ELIJAH SWAIN AGAIN—THE SEN- SATION-“DEADWOOD DICK’S HEAD™ADMISBION 30c, Yes} burning was the mysterious Black Cabin, or at least so said these excited denizens as they rus!.- ed pell-mell across the Bar: Belniont; Avalanche, and Squirrel Sam leaped out of their tent, and glared around them. The sky was reddened by a mighty illumination from the cabin, which was all ablaze. The timbers of which it had been built were old. punky, and in- flammable, and a thousand sparks ascended heaven- wardat every puff of the evening breeze, while the flames roared and crackled furiously. ‘Et aire good-by ter ther old crib as sure’s there's contrariness in a she-mule’s hind hoof!’ ejaculated Old Avalanche, who had come out of his trance, and while thoroughly himself again, had forgotten near- ly all concerning the mesmeriec power Dick had thrown over him. “Great Norweejan ham-bon> thet did old Joner strangulate—ef thar’s any one in — Ark, they're bound ter go to Canaan a-whoop- n’, “Tf the cabin has the occupants you named in our tantrums, ’'m reckoning Deadwood Dick will ose a wife—Leone, ye called her,” said Miaco, as ho too, came from the tent. “ What? what d’ye say, Stub, about Leone?” ex- claimed the Annihilator, excitedly. ** Whar is she who's seen her?” “ None has seen her, old man,” replied Belmont; “but, according to the revelation you made in your trance a f2w moments ago. she is a prisoner in yon- der burning cabin. Whois this Leone—Deadwood Dick’s wife?” ‘Great forsaken ham-bone, yes—she war his wife, an’ tier sweetest lump o’ sugar outside o’ a merla:- ses cask, But she got stole away while we war down at Del Norte, an’ hitherto we’ve bin unable ter find a trace o’ her, Yas, I remember now—I see’d Dead- wood Dick peekin’ in at me, an’ ketchin’ my eye, he quick throwed me into a mesmeric trance, w'ich war =" fer him, he hevin’ done it afore.” The four mengoined in with the crowd which was pouring over on the Bar from the shores, and push- ed toward the burning cabin. They soon gained a place as close as the terrible heat would permit, and then stood watching the conflagration, There was no aid which could be given, had the Flood Bar-ites been inclined to give aid, which they were nob, “D'ye kno’ ef any one’s got out uv ther old crib, yet?” Avalanche asked of a bystander, for the old man was shuddering each moment when he remem- bered that possibly Leone, Deadwood Dick’s wife, “was being consumed in the roaring furnace. “Yas—two gals and an old Injun woman escaped, ther gals goin’ first, and ther squaw a-chasing ‘em, wi' screeches like an ugly painter.” “Which way did they go?” “Down ther canyon gulch, an’ hid, so thet they ken't be found.” **Do you know how the cabin came afire?” put in Belmont. * Waal, I dunno, but the story’s about thet a ga- loot hed two girls shut up in thar, wi’ a crazy squaw ter guard ‘em, an’ thet, gittin’ tight on Fi Bar whisky, he concluded ter cremate ’emvin ther latest approved style, wharfore he sot the cabin on fire.” “Then he escaped too, eh?” ‘*O’ course—don’t suppose he’d go inter the she- bang after thet, ter cremate hisself, do you?” “Don't know but he might,’* the Annihilator re- plied, placidly. ‘Knew a feller once who got a stove hot fer ter set his mother-in-law upon, an’ for- got hisself an’ sot down kerslap onter it. al. a romance war thus begun. Settin’ on ther stove nater’ly fried the fat outen him, an‘ ther oilly sub- stance run aJl over the floor, so thet his wife hed ter mop it up. An’ she throwed ther moppin’sin a hole at ther back door, an’ an oil-loeates kim along, see’d ther grease wich had riz on top o’ ther water, de- 2 te a eee

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wef 3 — ae — Deadwood Dick’s Eagies. 16 clared crude petroleum ter exist thar, an’ offered thet fried chap a thousan’ an’ royalty fer ther claim; Did, by gracious!” ‘At itagain, old man,’’ here interposed Miaco. se In Heaven’s name! whenever will ye cease ter lie?” “Like yerself, Stubby—only when ther old angel Gabriel screws down my throttle, and shets off my superfiewus steam. Hooray! Great degenerated ham-bone w’at giye old Joner connipshun fits! See ther old Ark w’at Noaher built blaze up, an’ shute her sparks upward like ginnywine Norweejan snow- flakes toward the hevings!” , ‘Yes, et’s a-goin’ fast— Great God!” cried Bel- mont, leaping back, as there was a great puff with- in the burning cabin, which shot a myriad upward— then a report not unlike the roar of a hundred can- nons—an explosion of giant powder, which tore the cabin into bits, hurling in some instances great logs to the opposite side of the Bar, Nearly all the crewd were blown prostrate, and in some instances killed, or more or less injured. Avalanche was among those to suffer apparent death. He was found outstretched, with no signs of _ about him, his old face mantled by a grim smile. *He’s a goner!’’ said Belmont, gaaing respect- fully down at the veteran Indian-hater. * Guess *%twon’t be his odd expressions our ears will hear arfter this, pards.” “No, the poor old feller. But he nevyer expected ter git layed out so soon!” replied Miaco. ‘An’ a right sensible old galoot war he, too.” “ Hello! w’at hev yeou heer? Glory be unto—ther eos who made me a subject ter sit on!’ and fol- lowing the words came the person of Blijah Swain, U.S. Coroner, and so forth. *‘ Bizness is revivin’, ents—times aire gettin’ better; ther mortuary aire ecomin’ more reconciled an’ puttin’ ets work on in better shape. Just sot onter two men, back heer, an’ rendered a verdict, w’ich war ten dollars in my pocket; one feller got kicked, wi’ a flying log—ther other tried ter stop a cavortin’ windy-shutter. aside, gentlemen, an’ let me set onter this unfort.- nate man.” **Ham-bone w’at explored ther mammoth cave uv old Joner! no ye don’t!” yelled Avalanche, sitting upright so suddenly that the business-inclined Hii- jah’s hair nearly stood up on end. ‘ Guess I ain't reddy ter be sot onter yet, ef ther old leggisl ter knows herself, an’ she ruther opine she do. Git out o’ this, ye lunatic, or by all ther bulls w’at Moses rid w’en he cavorted around thr’u’ ther rushes, I'll pul- verize ye fer land plaster. Git!” And seeing that the little old man was in earnest, Elijah quickly obeyed, and was later seen searching around in hopes of finding more defunct persons. The cabin burned to the ground, and nothing but a glowing bed of ashes was left to mark its former site. Gradually the crowd dispersed and went back to their respective roosts for the night. Avalanche had not been injured—only momentari- ly stunned. The old knight of the trail and war- ge seemed to bear a charmed existence—at least e was always lucky enough to escape death, es matter how great the danger or severe his in- juries, Long life on the border had made him reckless and it is this class who ever seem to bear a charmed, in vulnerable life. That night a rumor was spread about that Dead- wood Dick had been killed. A brawny bummer heralded the news broadeast, and it was pretty enerally believed. But when a week had passed Ey, and nothing of the noted Prince of the Road had been heard, it was regarded as a fact. And the Flood Bar-ites breathed free. During the week, Avalarche had searched far and wide, in the vicini- ty of Flood Bar, both for Deadwood Dick and for or abducted Leone, who had escaped from the lack Cabin, and sought safety in flight. Butit had been 9 fruitless seareh, and he finally settled down Step. to hunting and mining again, with the conviction that Deadwood Dick had indeed passed in his checks. As to Leone, he could form no conjecture whereabouts, During the week another “grand” hotel, built of slabs and boards, went upon the eastern shore of Squirrel Creek, which was now considered the first street of the town, It was called the White House and because of being comfortably furnished, and setting forth a better array of grub, received the greater share of the regular end transient patron- age. In short, it was a “ first class” ing- house, such as you find in all mining-towns. In one of the rooms upon the second floor, and looking down onto the picturesquely-tented Bar, sat a man at the elose of a mild spring day, when the miners were trudging in from their work, and night's early twilight was gon. | softly over the landscape. The sun had so far gone down in the west that coy a faint radiance flushed the fora rhe whi rose stately and grand on the opposite side of the Bar, and rolled away in gorgeous pine-fringed piles as far as eye could reach. Perfume of exquisitely Lip reese May flow- ers wafted down and greeted the nostflis of the man we have mentioned, as he sat by an open casement and with his feet elevated upon a chair-back, pulled silently at a heavy pipe, dispelling the fragrance of Lo flowers’ perfume b; the scent of bad-smelling to- Acco, He was one whose age might have been anywhere between twenty-five and thirty-five, dark of complex- ion and swarthy, with a black ugly-expressioned eye, a sensual mouth shaded by a heavy jetty mustache, and hair like the raven's wing, is dress was rough and coarse, with no pretensions to dandyism, and upon his head he wore a herder’s slouch hat, “Curses upon me!” he growled, as his eyes roved over the scene below, and at last re upon the former site of the Black Cabin. ““Why was I sucha cursed fool as to get drunk and fire the old Lem when it contained my two prizes, whom I valu more than life? But che are gone now, and the cevil only knows where they are. I hope ald Mar- keesa did get ’em, and chaw ‘em UP» though by some ie) her - crazy freak she might have befriended them. My only plan is to watch and wait. Chance ht ergain lace ’em in my pawer. And, they sa wood ick is dead, too, which is a great relief to gx for if he were alive I should not care to walk boldly in the streets of Flood Bar. His wife, Leone, he loved too much, to ever give over her chase. “ Ah, life has been eventful since I left Del Norte; and, Hawk Harrington, you can call yourself lucky that you are not dead ere this!" “Ay! that you can, if you have Deadwood Dick upon the enemy list!” replied a- cool, beer voice, so close at hand, that Harrington whirle around with an oath, and beheld a stranger, loung- ing against a table, to his left, with all the compos- ure of a statue, A man of trim build, with a dusky face that was urely Spanish, adorned with a well-waxed mus- ache, an evil-shaped mouth, piercing eyes, and the man himself dressed rather neatly. He was well armed, however—‘‘heeled,” in the language of the Black Hills. “What do you want?” Harrington demanded, ris- ing, with an angry color in his cheeks. ‘You will please remember /’ve paid for this room!” “Oh! have you?” was the Spaniard’s reply. “I perl hg ut you'd ‘stood ’em off,’ in, as usual, “Who are you? what brings you here?” again re- peated Harrington, angrily. “Who?” said the other, reflectively—“ well, I don’t know as it makes any difference to you, as my name isn’t concerned in any busin particularly. However, you can know me as Carlos bre!” “Oambre, eh? Guess I never heard the name. What do you want?” “Tcan soonexplain, I want information of either

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ié Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. Deadwood Dick, or his wife, Leone, and was sent to you as being the person who might be able to assist me. “Who sent you?” “That unreliable sower of ill to men, Dame Ru- mor,”’ replied Cambre, with a peculiar laugh. “Then the Dame misled you,’’ was Harrington's comment. “I know, now, absolutely nothing con- cerning those parties, though it is reported that the former is dead. The girl has been a prisoner in my power, but escaped, about a week ago.” “And you don’t know where she can be found?” “No, or I should hasten to repossess myself of her. at do you want of her?” “Enough of her heart’s blood that she may never aha again—and the same applies to her hus- and.” “You are a villain!’ Harrington said. * Correct, and you are a duplicate. If you get the girl again, hunt me up. and I'llmake you an offer for her!’ the scheming Spaniard said, as with a pat- ronizing smile he bowed himself from the room, “Oh! yes, I am liable to do just what ou propose, ina horn!’ the Del Norte herder muttered, as he turned his attention down upon the Bar. ‘The rl was a very tigress, and I never dared to attempt © accomplishment of my aims, for fear she'd di my eyes out. But, by Heaven, I am not through with her yet. I'll humble and degrade her, or [ll break her accursed neck, before 1 go back to the Sou’-west.”” Flood Bar the next day was struck with a sensa- tion. Before day-dawn acanvas pavilion had been stuck up on the old site of the Black Cabin, and asted upon giant banners were huge, life-size por- raits of wood Dick, and a red and white poster containing the following: “STARTLING CURIOSITY! ‘“Wonper oF THE NINETEENTH CenTURY! “ THE GENUINE HEAD OF DEADWOOD DICK, Preserved in liquors. On exhibition, now, within this Pavilion! “The head of the greatest Road-Agent that ever lived! Recently captured and killed near Flood Bar. “COME ONE! COME ALL! “ADMISSION ONLY THIRTY CENTS!" And when they awoke in the morning, these peo- ple of Flood Bar, they saw the great, glaring ost- ers, heard the noisy harangue of the crier outside of the entrance, and, very naturally, all grew excited. For the head of Deadwood Dick was not to be seen every day, either dead or alive! CHAPTER IX. OUT OF THE PIT—AVALANCHE’S IDENTIFICATION. WE must now return to Flying Floyd, Deadwood Dick's lieutenant, and his dusky charge, Nolie, whom we left beside the strange lake in the bowels of the mountains, After Nolie’s restoration to consciousness, they sat or stood around the fire which Floyd had _ buil:, un- til their clothing had become thoroughly dry; then, they retired for rest by lying down close by. the em- bers, and when they awoke it was still dark, with only a faint reflection from the sky coming down into the abyss, but even this made it a trifle better than on the day before. ‘We now have all the daylight we can have down here!” Floyd said, looking to his watch. “It is al- ready long past sunrise, up in the outer world. So if there is no escape from this living tomb, we shall not be troubled with too much light!’ “Oh! is it nota omy pect?” sighed Nolie, burying her head in her ds. “‘ I believe I’d rather have remained with the outlaws!” _‘Pshaw! It won’t do to get discouraged yet. There pe a dozen ways out of this ar which we have not yet discovered. Wait, and I wi corral some of the fish that seem to abound In this lake, and we will see if they are palatable.” ‘ He accordingly proceeded to little shallows or bays to find them literally infested with a species of the finny tribe not unlike the salmon. A couple were soon in hand and dressed, and while there werg | few bones, there was a great abundance of fine deli- cious, meat, which, when Floyd had succeeded in roasting, he served up on bits of flat rock, which had to answer the purpose of plates, The meal, though consisting of but one dish, was hearty, and sone appeased the appetites of our two inter-earth Robinson Crusoes. After the meal had been dispatched, Flying Floyd lit a resinous pine cone for a torch, and accompanied by Nolie, set out around the lake in search of some mode of escape. “There must be some place of escape for this water, more of which is constantly being added to the lake,” said Floyd, as they marched along. “The volume of yonder spring is considerable, and this pit would soon fill up were there not some outlet for the water.”’ “True, there should be some opening,” replied Nolie; “* but it may be too small to admit of our es- caping through it.” They moved along, scanning narrowly the walls of rock upon their Jeft, as the shore curved along. “If there is any break, I think it is across the lake yonder, where the low ledges overhang the shore,” Nolie said, po‘nting over the dark water. ‘ Let’sgo around there and see.” They did go around, carefully scanning the route as they went. The ledges in question bulged out from the main wall, shelf-like, and so iow down that a person w: obliged to stoop down in order to get under the and along the narrow, sandy shore. “Here, if anywhere, you will find the outlet we are seeking,’ Nolie said, pointing ahead of Sheth “You can go under the ledges, and explore, while | remain here.” : * ry eee hy leaving her behind, the lieutenant crept in under the great stretch of natural shelving, and along by the aid of his little torch, making a careful survey as he went. For some distance he found no signs of any outlet, and was wing |dis- couraged and impatient, when be came to where the water had worn its way out of the Devil’s Hole. It was a large round tunnel in the solid rock, Sealintng a trifle downward from the surface of the lake, an through which the superfluous water of the basin found exit. As he stood at the mouth of this aper- ture, Floyd B peenina that a person could enter it standing half-erect, but whether such a passage could be continued any great length of time or not, was to remain an unsolved question until two ri ge prisoners should choose to make e trial, Floyd went back to Nolie, and related the success of his explorations. and the probability of their being able to make an escape from the pit of darkness. It was gladsome news to the poor girl, and she shed tears of joy as they hurried back to camp. ‘“Oh! then, when shall we start to escape?” she © asked, ent’s spring trustfully up into the road- eyes. would so like to get out into the living world once more.” ‘““As soon as we are ready, my dear young lady, we will attempt the passage!’’ Floyd responded, stir- ring up the fire. ' “First, however, we need to prepare a supply oi this table fish food, for we know not how long it will be ere we can again get food. Even when we are once out of this pit, into the mountains, dan- ger lurks pte fe in the mountains, for the new ‘ red-skin chief, Half Moon and his dirty Vagabonds, - roaming about, preying and offering great in- are z dignities to all small parties they chance upon. Be-— sides, ere we leave this | place, I would know the story

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Deadwood Dick’s Eagies. 17 of your life, which must be an interesting one. Be not afraid to confide in me, for 1 am your friend, and any advice or assistance you may need from me, will be heartily granted.” “Yes, you are very kind, but I know not if I ought to make you my confidant,” No'ie replied, gazing thoughtfully into the fire. ‘I will, however, trust- ing no harm will come therefrom. It is but a short story, yet much of importance is connected with it, for me. * My mother was, and if still living, is, an Indian woman, or rather a half-breed, between American and Sioux, fully cultured, and of fair education. When a R ton woman she was the princess of her tribe, and the recipient of many valuable land and money gifts from both the settlers and the Indian agents, because of the peaceful influence she exerted among thetribes. When in heryouth and beauty, a handsome, dashing cavalier came from the East, and induced her to leave her tribe and wed him, which she did, All her property and valuable_ trinkets were sold, and the cash turned over to her husband, which amounted altogether to a great sum of ready money, Well, Markeesa and her pale-faced husband dwelt in Minnesota for one year, cag ee time one child was born, myseif; then the husband ran away with Markeesa’s money, and she never saw him ain, “Time rolled around, until five years agO, when my ‘mother learned where my father was living in the East. She wrote to him, but received no answer. Wo then confided our trouble to Jackson Sterling, an In- dian agent, better known as Red Lark, and he prom- ised to act for us. He wrote to my father, but what the contents of his letter was, I shall never be able to tell you, for he did not tellus. But aftera month he got a letter, in return, and immediately there- after, we were taken prisoners. I was taken to Big John’s outlaw stronghold, at that time over on the Yellowstone, Since that time I have been kept with them, and never have seen any one I knew or could appeal to for relief. My poor mother was taken off to another dismal mountain prison, where, I have since learned, she went stark mad. That is, sir, the secret of my life.”’ “Anda strange bit of life’s reality, too, I should say,” Flying Floyd remarked, thoughtfully, as she finished. “* This Indian-agent traitor—what did you say was his name?” e * Red Lark—or Jackson Sterling.” “I think I have heard Deadwood Dick's men men- tion him, as being a second-class desperado, What was your father’s name, miss?” “Cyril Waltonby. My name is Nolette Waltonby —a name given me by my poor crazed mother,” “Waltonby! Waltonby!”’ Flying Floyd muttered, reflectively. ‘‘ Where have I heard that name? Somewhere in these Hills, and not long ago at that. I won't be positive, but I am impressed with the idea that there is a settler in the Musquekang valley, by the name of Waltonby.” “Ah! then can it be that my father has come back to the West?” the girl cried, a strange, dark flush mantling her brow. ‘‘ Would to God Jcould find him, sir.” “And, why? You could do nothing with him, to prove yourself his child.” _“Yes,I could. I have my mother’s marriage-cer- tifleate from the chaplain at Fort Laramie. And even if I cannot get back Markeesa's money, I can acca tat one remaining object of my life,”” al “ Revenge ! Cyril Waltonby shall feel the hand of vengeance strike heavily upon him for the great wrong he has done,” “Yes, you have that satisfaction left, if you can effect no compromise, But, we will first see what wecan do. Maybe I can be of service to you in ar- ranging matters. We will now eat and sleep until another day, and then attempt to leave this Devil’s dead-fall.”” ; Accordingly they spent the day in rest and con- versation, and, when night fell, reoccupied their hard couches by the embers. Early the next morning they were astir, and equip- ping themselves with torches, and roasted fish, they set out upon their venture for escape. On arriving at the outlet or water-tunnel, Flyi Floyd took the lead, and they cautiously entere the passage, advancing step by step, and watebin with sharp scrutiny the sides above and aroun them. The water splashed beneath their s' and paused strange echoes to reverberate aroun them. For what seemed almost an interminable space of time they kept on, all the while gradually but sensi- bly descending. But, at last, after several hours, they emerged in- to a deep, rugged canyon, and Flying Floyd gave an ejaculation of surprise and joy. “Cheer up, Miss Nolie, for luck is ours, I know just which way to turn now to take us out of the mountains. If we had horses to ride, we could reach Deadwood Dick’s stronghold ina cups of hours, By foot, in about twice that length of time.” Great was the sensation in Flood Bar! Far and wide was heralded the news that for the small sum of thirty cents, the hcad of Deadwood Dick could be seen—thirty cents only to view one of the greatest curiosities of the Nineteenth Century. Jack Barronet’s Telephone and Tally-Ho Stage line to Deadwood was one medium to ¢ te the news, and Recast in double loads of excited visitors to see the head of the notorious road- agent. And the general verdict rendered was that the head had once stood upon the shoulders of Dead- wood Dick. The proprietors of this novel enterprise were two sharpers who had received their initiation into the way of making money during the early days of Cali- fornia’s harvest, and they took great pride in pre- senting their prize for public inspection, although Sher ae reticent as to how they came into posses- sion of it. When Old Avalanche heard the news, a grim ex- pression came came over his features, “Don't b'lieve et’s Deadwood Dick no more'n you or I am!” he said, to Jim Belmont, the Vir- ginian. “Great ham-bone w’at abused ther constitoochin uy old Joner! How d'ye suppose any feller human *d ever git his bread-mixers around ther head sup- porter o’ Dickey? Lord, ef I war as sure o' etarnal salvation as I am thet Dick's at this very moment not fur off, a hugely enjoying ther joke, I'd go an’ insure m life, swallera dorg- button, an’ make work fer thet Elijer Swain.” “But you'll find you are mistaken when you go and view the head,” said Miaco, who had already visited the show. “It looks just like Deadwood Dick’s fotygraff, w’at they've got stuck up onter ther canvas.” “Well, we can better tell when we look with our own eyes,” Belmont replied. ‘* Come on, Avalanche, and we'll take a squint at the elephant.” “Great surrepticious ham-bone, yes,’’ the Anpi- hilator replied, cheerily, although there was a Jin- gering of doubt in his mind and voice—‘ we'll hev ter go see ther sarcuss—‘go ter see ther anymals,' as ther pious folks allus say, when, ef ther truth war known, all they care about is seein’ thersarcus. But, talk about sarcusses—ye jest orter've seen ther Annihilation, when et war all together. Royal American ham-bone! b’iled thunder an’ concen: trated lightnin’ warn’t skeercely nowhar. Ef et warn’t fer ther hard times, I'd hev a histr’y writ uv ther great exploits o’ we three—would, by gra- cious!” By this time the two men were at the *‘ Museum,” nd, paying their fee, they entered the crowded pavilion. As they did so, their hearing was greeted i every side with the exclamations from many a ip. ;

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— —_ 18 “Yes, et’s a fair shake! head, sure enough.” Avalanche and Belmont pressed forward. The head was inclosed in a large glass globe, filled with brandy. and placed upon a pedestal, where all could view it. It had been cut off close to the neck’s connection with the shoulders, and had a very life-like appearance. The face, with its clear, handsome features, high forehead, and long raven hair, were all too nearly like tiose of the dashing highwayman for a doubt to be given that this was not the head. “T cave!” Old Avalanch> said, turning away with tears streaming down his face, ‘*Et’s my boy, Dickey, an’ no mistake.” Et’s Deadwood Dick’s CHAPTER X. HARD-CHEEK, THE TRUMP CARD, Anp Avalanche, as well as the people, accepted of “it as a verdict that Deadwood Dick had played his last card, and that it was his head whom the two California sharpers were exhibiting to hundreds of ‘spectators daily. “I'm sorry fer you, old man,” said Jim Belmont, ‘as he led old Alva back to camp. ‘‘No doubt ye thought a heap o’ ther road-agent cuss, an’ all that, but I s’pect et aire a blessing ter ther Black Hills thet he’s pegged out,” “Great hifalutin’ ham-bone that old Joner did hifalute! then ye ain’t no pard o’ ther greut boreal be ami ef them aire yer moralistic views .o’ ther case. No, sir-ee! Dickey war jest the very quintessence o’ human natur’, electrified by a dose o’ cavortin’ lightnin’, Game war ke as ary young rooster thet evyer matched spurs, an’ ef ye couldn’t lick a feller-mortal yerself, because yer j‘ints an’ hinges war gettin” old and rusty, Dickey war the lad w'at could do thet same perlite little job. fer e. “Yes, we'll admit that he was good-hearted and generous in some ways, but he was daring, impudent and merciless in others.” “No, he warn’t, no sich a thing!” the old man replied, dancing up and down indignantly. “Ill bet my old j'int, Florence Cordeliar Night-in-a-zale, thet Dickey war jest as squar’ a ee as_vegetates thes side o’ ther river Jordan—Ill bet ed old he- goat ag’in’ all ther govynorment bonds ye kin skeer up’ The two men sauntered back toward camp. On their way they came face to face with Carlos Cambre. Jim Belmont had of course never seen the Spaniard to: know him,-but Avalanche had, and recognized him imme‘iately. “Hello!” he exclaimed, pointing his sharp little eyes straight at the ex-lieutenant. ‘‘Great ham-bone w’at ’arthquaked ther system uv old Joner, et’s that dasted garter-snake, Careless Cucumber.”’ And the old man stopped stock-still, blockading the path. Cambre likewise stopped, seeming equally surprised atthe meeting. ‘Hello! you here, old rackabones?” he saluted, with an attempt at pleasantry, although he ill could conceal his malignant hatred for the scout. ~“t How did you happen up in this locality? I thought you were dead.” “ Dil ye? Great sanctified ham-bone! thet’s nuth- in’. Guile many’s tho't —_ them same ijees, wi'’- out enny definite result. Feller once prayed fer me an’-sot out ter git tools ter dig my grave wi’, but I warn’t dead. Another, once up in Montany, stole fifteen dollars uv an old Injun Queen jest fer ter git my obituary put inter ther condolence column uv ther Helena S’ars and Siripes. But I warn’t no more dead, then aire ther leetle insects which trail ther war-path over yer sculp. A feller jest ther other day sot down onter my bread container, wi’ ther intention 0’ rendering a verdict, but jest erbout thet time, ther jury had a different ijeer o' ther case. Oh! no, Careless, ther great devyastatin’ Deadwood Dick’s Eagiles. eppydemic aire alive, an’ as ready fer a skewrup as evyer et war.” “Well, T can’t say as it is any pleasure to me to know it,’? Cambre replied, grimly. ‘‘ You know I and you never did have an over-stock of love for each other, old scurvy.” * No—leastwise, we never sucked each other's fin- gers, wi’ ther delusion thet they war sugar-plumes, my pone galutorious skunk!” the Annihilator said, with an ejection of tobacco-juice which, had not Cambre jumped to one side, would undoubtedly have dyed his dark countenam& the color of tan-bark. ‘*No, geelorious Cucumber, et war neévyer our lot to luv each other beyond ther friendly salute o’ a pair 0’ knuckles, an’ ef ye want any o’ ther aforesaid, I'm bettin’ I kin give ye a full measure," “Pshaw! don’t get belligerent, oldscarecrow. I'd scorn to lay a hand upon a man of pe years, When you are entering your second childhood. Don’t talk of fighting at your age. Isee you have just come =n the show, yonder. That isn’t Deadwood Dick’s ead!’ “Eh? it isn’t? How d’ye know?” “Tt makes no difference how. Why, Deadwood Dick is in this very town, I'll wager every cent I pos- sess,”” ** An’ wouldn’t stand ther least chance o’ Josin’ at that, would ye? Doubt ef ye’ve got a U. S. peuny in yer pockets, wile ye’re talkin’. How about Edith Stun?” “Oh! she’s alive, and here in Deadwood, watching for Deadwood Dick.”’ “ Bully fer her! She'll keep right on wi’ her funny bizness ontil she gits her head cut off like Dick’s. Shedn’t wonder ef ther great Annihilation might be able ter take a hand. Ther gal lost my respect fer her, by her cavortin’ up at Eureka.” “She'll have Deadwood Dick's life-blood. ere the year dies, and I'll help her quaff it!” the Spaniard returned, with a savage flerceness that surprised even Avalanche, for he had never mistrusted that so much of fiendish evil lurked in Cambre’s natuve. “Ye will, willye?. Great ham-bone w'at paralyzed ther constitoochinal system of old Joner! I'd like ter see ye, would I! Bet my interest in ther moon thet yo'd find et ther wu’st dose ye evyer cum across. Know'd a professional blood-sucker, once’t, who sucked ther devil blood outen Injun braves, an’ squaws, an’ made "em peaceable an’ serene as a hoss-fly on top uv a speckled toad; yes, sir-e>, you bet! Theerd 0’ the chap, an’ give him jest ten dol- lars ter cum an’ extra+t sum 0’ thet devril-h/ood outen my tonguey an’ pugilis‘ic old mother-in-law. But *twar no use. He broke his jaws ther very fu’st try, an’ a hull Injun nation mourned his loss. No! no! don't yo’ try ter drink Dickey’s blood, Careless Cu- cumber, or ye'll git a dose o’ physic w’at'll go rough your systematic construction wuss'’n lead pills.*? ‘Well, maybe I shall take your advice, Alva, and again, maybe I shall not. Anyhow, look out for me, should I ever get the drop upon you, for Ilove you Jugh roeses = or pee old ey *! a nd the Spaniard stepped to one side, passed, and stalked on toward East Bar. Avalanche watched him until he reached the bridge leadi nn to the shore; then hurried on to inform Bel- mont, , A perplexed expression mantled the Annihilator’s face, for he was in one of the Ge wl puzzles of his life. His eyes told him the exhibited head was that of Deadwood Dick, but his heart rebelled against such an idea, and here, too, was another and no less aman than Cambre, declaring that Dick still lived. But sober thought had decided in all minds, except ’ | that of the old war-path veteran, that Deadwood Dick had at last come to the end of his adven‘ure- some career, and that it was his head which the two California sharpers had swimming in their glass jar, in under the pavilion, One evening Messrs. Hallowton and Miles had a ; ee ae ni

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“ami ‘ Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. 19 a new “star” upon their boards, consequently a large crowd was attracted. The star was ac ampion boxer, a proféssional, by the way, who had _ gained ' eonsiderable fame up at Hayward City. He had there cleaned out the town, and his arrival in Flood Bar might have been assurance that he was ready to measure strength with the éés of that gs But as he could dare no one to box with him, he pre- osed another Jine of sport. His name was Blue Bai and he invited the crowd outside, where from his improvised spring-board he astonished the na- tives by some of his remarkable feats in jumping, Once he measured a distance of thirty feet, again, thirty, and a third time, thirty-three! “Thar ye aire, gentlemen!” cried this long, lathy individual, as he stood and gazed triumphantly around, “I ain't no bettin’ man, myself, but Pil wager a gold eagle thar ain’t & man In the crowd kin ekal my leap!” “Great illustrative ham-bone, thet did old Joner instruct!’ ejaculated Old Avalanche, who was one of the spectators. “I wish my hinges warn't so cmied, stiff and rusty, young feller, or I'd try yea whirl.” * Hurra! wake up. Do ary man want ter leap wi’ me?” sung Blue Bill, capering back, and snapping a jugglers staff of gold eagles into the air, “Hayr am, plain, homely, an’ honest disposed, willing ter bet one gold eagle I kin beat any man in the crowd jumping frum ther spring-board.”” oe bi take you!” cried a voice, and a slim, spind- ling youth, with beardless face, pushed forward. “Put up your stakes and go ahead.” Two eagles were accordingly deposited in the hands of a bystander, and Blue Bill trotted back a score of yards from the spring-board, in order to get a good start; then he came bounding forward as swiftly as a frightened hare. Up the spring-board—then like a meteor he shot forward through the air, ’mid wild shouts from the crowd, and then struck down upon a fine soft bed of sand which had been raked up purposely, Where he struck he remained firmly rooted to the spot, and a measurement was quickly taken. ‘Thirty-five feet!” cried the verdict, and the crowd cheered lustily. The stripling looked rather grim as he heard the announcement, but did not hesitate. He meant to try his best, whether he won or lost. 4 ith a wave of his hand to the vast audience, he ran back half the distance Blue Bill had, and then leaped ahead with determination, On—on—up the spring-board, and then came the leap—one which cau the spectators tu give a gasp of wonder. . Then the stripling struck lightly down in the sand, and the measuring man ran forward. “Thirty-nine feet and a half!" he shouted, and then the crowd took up the cry, and the night rung loudly with acclamations of applause. “Tt’s a cheat! it’s alie! I'll bet.a hundred dollars Tean beat the spindle-shanks!” bellowed Blue Bill. “And I'll take you!” accepted the victor, making a deposit. “Go ahead, and if you'll jump a hun- dred feet, I'll make a point on you. My name is Fred Feather!” ; ** And I'll lay you ‘way behind, sure’s mine’s Blue Bill!” the boxer cried. “Oh! yes: ondoubtedly ye will!” commented Old Avalanche. ‘Lord! Great ham-bone thet censured old Joner, Ef my Prudence Cordeliar war os hayr, how beauchifully she ked get away wi’ thet brag. Why, et’s a solid-cast, actooal fact thet she once jumped cl’ar over herself in endeavorin’ ter catch a oss-fly w’at war buzzin’ about. °*Tain’t nothin’, w’en ve get used to it, gentlemen.” * Which—drawing the long bow, or jumping, old man?” questioned Miaco, who had come up to see the port. be Serpe ther galoot like a streak o’ gre: on For, with a shout, Blue Bill had sprung forward like the wind, every nerve and muscle exerted for the contest. On, up the spring-board with panther- like agility—then the leap and the announcement of the distance. “Yorty feet! cried the man of measure, amid great excitement. Not a word said Blue Bill now, but there was an evil glitter in his eyes. He stood to one side, and watched Fred Feather come bounding forward; then, justas the youth bounded into mid-air, Blue Bill pulled a pistol from his belt and fired. There followed a wild scream of agony, and the stripling tumbled to the ground, far short of his in- tended goal—dead / The crowd stood at bay as it were; no one moved to avenge this heartless murder. Not until Blue Bill was about to move away, and then, while a murmur of indignation ran through the crowd, a young man sprung forward. “Hold, you assassin!” he eried, confronting the villain, his eyes flashing and his face flushed. * You are not to escape so easy.” “Who are ye?” growled Blue Bill, partly raising his revolver, “ T'll— “No, you won't!” cried the other, quickly knock- ing the weapon upward, ‘ You have got to fight in a different style, to pay for Fred Feather's life, or my name isn’t Hard Cheek, nor I don't deserve my reputation for being a Trump Card!’ CHAPTER XI. THE ROAD-RIDER’S VICTORY—-CAMBRE ACCUSES, “Tree squeals for Hard Cheek! roared Old Avalanche—" three yoops fer the young galoot as kin lick thunder an’ blazes out o’ Blue Bill!" And evidently agreeing with the old. man's spirit, the crowd gave a hearty hurrah, which raised a flight of reverberating echoes from the Bar, where the scene was or. Blue Bill began to look a trifle dubious, as he saw the spectators form in a ring around bim; be saw that ne was elected to fight, and that he bad an op- ponent by no means despisable for his muscular strength, For this youthful avenger who had styled himself Hard Cheek was a fellow of rather striking appear- ance. He was of medium hight and well built, with iron-like limbs noticeable for their swelling muscular contours, a smooth, round face, rather bronzed by the sun, yet which was capable of ex- pressing humor or anger in a strong degree. It was a face not frequently met with, Npacenee bold, manly and prepossessing. One striking feature of his appearance was, that his head was as smovth as his face, so far as hair was concerned, the applica- tion of a razor having removed the wig with which Nature had adorned him. So that his skull was left as glossy and shining as the bald spotin an old man's head, which gave to him a rather humorous appear- ance. His attire was rich and opens consisting of a light cassimere suit throughout, with patent-leather shoes upon his feet, and a late-styled rilk hat upon his head—or rather upon the ground, now, it having been knocked off in his impetuous rush to intercept Blue Bill. The two men stood face to face, eye to eye, stern resolution evinced on the part of Hard Cheek, and bitter hatred on the part of Blue Bill, The former at length spoke. “Drop your shutin’-iron, Mr. Blue Billian!” he said, coolly and authoritative y. ‘ We ain't a-goin’ fer ter decide the funeral in thet way. I havea good solid pair of knuckles, and you have the same, wherefore, we will use them, disclaiming the use of mechanical death. Don’t git skeered, now, sweet Billian, for I haven't the least idea but you ough: to y, my ray o° ine. : | be able to polish me off in the most scientific man- ther, Seunby, y ray sunshine But, ae 1 ee ree tana ant cid band aitgiaty wever, now's & ir way ter meet ther inwestigatin’ committy.” | good chance fer me ter learn, an’ ef ye « o Lit me on

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20 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles: ther cheek, et’s harder’n a brick, an’ kin stand yer racket!” “Hurray! Great ham-bone w’at philosophized wi’ old Joner! thet’s ther kind o’ talk, me darling! make him b’lieve he kin lick ye, an’ then let him be — w’en he gits a glimpse o’ ther inaccessible banks ter Jorden,” said Avalanche. “Oh! he'll fight, never fear!’’ replied Hard Cheek, a little laugh. ‘ He dassent run, an’ I'll soon im. And so ms the Trump Card edged closer to the enraged boxer, with a tantalizing little laugh. He wished to, little by little, arouse Blue Bill, as the matador arouses his bull. And he succeeded ad- mirably, for at last, with a howl of rage, the profes- sional boxer sprung forward, his huge knotty fists doubled, and a glare of devilish hatred in his eyes. Then commenced a battle—a hot contest with the only physical weapons God bestowed upon man; a be abt fight—for eee. and vengeance, The crowd gazed breathlessly on. They admired this intrepid youth; to see him come off victorious was their strongest wish. And from the way the battl> started off, it was pretty evident that their wish would be gratified. For Hard Ch*ek proved himself a master of self- defense. He gn ie his blows with a decision and accuracy that told, every time. and by the time thirty rounds of blows had been struck, Blue Bill's face presented an appearance more resembling a battered piece of beefsteak than a human counie- nance. “Quarter!” he cried, rane back, blood stream- ing out of his eyes and nostrils. ‘‘ Hold on! I beg!” ut in that same instant he had drawn a revol- — ae fired, with the muzzle turned toward Hard eek. But his aim had been unsteady, and a bullet through his adversary’s coat-sleeve was the only re- sult ‘o! not the only result, for there was, the following moment, a sharp rifle report, and Blue Bill begs ee dead in his tracks, while a posse of armed horsemen dashed boldly up onto the Bar, with wild shc uts. “The road-agents! the road-agents are upon us!” cried the crowd, and instantly there was a scatter- ing in every direction. t was indeed a portion of Deadwood Dick’s strong band, who had boldly entered Flood Bar, with Fly- an, bh ‘d at their head. nd the Flood Bar-ites, who had no love for out- be only retreated a short distance, then halted, and began to edge, cat-like, toward the enemy. Of the road-agents there were somewhere in the neighborhood of two-score, all heavily armed; of those “ Ites upon the Bar, probably four times that number, but very few of them “ heeled.” Near where lay the dead bodies of Blue Bill and Fred Feather, the road-agents drew rein, and stand- ing up in his stirrups, Flying Floyd glanced over the sea of grim, teased ‘aces around and on every side. ‘*Men of Flood Bar!” he cried, “ we do not come here to fight—neither do we come to despoil you or yours. We come toview what is said to be the head of our late commander, Deadwood Dick. I do not wish a disturbance, and if you create one the results be upon your own head. Forward, boys.” The word was obeyed, and in a body the band moved forward and stopped before the tent wherein the two Californians were exhibiting the head. One of these sharpers was exhorting to a crowd as the cr ey hag came up, and it was to him Flying Fioyd spoke, in his pleasant yet firm voice: r “ Sir—exhibitor of the head of Deadwood Dick, we, his followers, have come to look upon his face, which — claim to have preserved life-like and natural. ‘ou will confer a favor by bringing it out, where we can see it, and decide as to Its re grees 3 “Reckon not, foe go replied the Californian, with a chuckle. “It thirty cents to see thet sight. Reckon et would cost about twelve dol- lars a head fer ye, seein’ ye aire road-agents, an’ have plenty o’ tin.” “We pay no license, no toll, no fee, my friend!” was Floyd’s response, *‘ and it is a certainty that we shall never pay you a cent to view the head of our late chief, Fetch it out, at once, or we'll trample your ranch so deep into the ground that it'll take you longer to excavate it than it has the ruins of Pompeii. None o’ yer lip, either, or there'll be a — dead rascal lying where you stand, to keep company with Blue Bill, back yonder.”’ With a growl the Californian vanished within the tent, and Flying Floyd turned to his men, “Might is right, in this case!” he said, with a smile, “although it will somewhat decrease these devils’ receipts, I reckon.” ; The exhibitors were a long time a-coming, but they came at last, eee the glass case between them in which swam the head of Deadwood Dick. A ery of indignation and sorrow went up from the lips of the road-agents—a wail of grief, as it were, formany there were in the band who had serve under the Prince of the Road during his first cam- paign in the hills, and loved him with an undying rotherly devotion. “Tis, indeed, the head of our chief, mates!” cried Floyd, a tear glistening in either eye—* he whom, 1 am sure ¢€very one of us loved and respected. We would Lave fought for him alive—why should we hesitate to avenge him when he is dead? A question arises—how came his head in the possession of these two rascals? Does it not point to tiem as his mur- derers?. Ay! of course it does; and they who take ae Boe die also, saith I, Flying Floyd. Seize them, joys!’ dozen of the road-agents leaped from their sad- dles and rushed toward the two Californians, who hadd.opped the glass case and drawn their revol- vers. And undoubtedly their“capture would have been effected but for another occurrence just then, There was a wild shout, and the whole multitud began torush forward, firing as they came. Flying Floyd saw in an instant that the Flo py gd had opened upon eer oe rae phar: wou ave no mercy upon the followers 0. Deadwood Dick. sai nes ‘*To your saddles!” he cried, sternly, all his blood aroused— Forward! Shoot down every mother’s son that opposes yous for they opened the affray of bag eo a i ; 4 nd right valiantly the road-agents responded b speeding bullets true and fast against ‘thelr assail- ants. lor five minutes there was an incessant roar of revolver shots, intermingled with dying screams; then the road-agents burst from the ring, and, leay- ing half their number dead and dying upon the Bar, dashed away at breakneck sp up over the bluff, and away out of sight. But if a score of their num- ber they had left upon _the battle-field, twice as many of the enemies of Deadwood Dick had fallen, And a doubly-bitter feeling was excited against the road-agents. A Hard Cheek soon was a general favorite about Flood Bar. He was an expert buchario, and could manage the ugliest cayuse with the greatest ease. He was equally a good shot, Sand Dias ee and miner, though he appeared to have plenty of cash, and had, no need to sift golden sands for aliving. Wi lanche he soon became famous friends, and where was one, the other might easily be found. But that Hard Cheek had enemies, before long be- came apparent. His free and independent way, and, “cheeky ” assurance, while it amused some, anger- ed others, and then the fact that he would not sub- mit to bluffing or excess of tongue, generally led — into a row, in which the rightly-cemued Tramp Card — a os crcping:& ondaxy mutant One ne even: a few subsequent he ile on the Bar, Hard Cheek was in the Inte’ watching the scenes transpiring around him, when f ; } | i t / ee ~- tte ies Sale tee

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_ shayved-head youth was beyond comparison, aoa oe Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. Ne, ras he was accosted by an old man whom he had sev- eral times before noticed on the Bar. { Anold man, with snow-white hair and beard, and a perceptible stoop in his shoulders, attired in rags, and leaning upon crutch and cane. And this was what he said: . “Good-evening, my son. Could you do an old nan a favor?’* ect +. : “A favor, is it?” said Hard Cheek, staring in sur- rise, ‘Well, it depends somewhat on what the avor is to be. If ye war ter ask me to put a tele- fone-roof over sum loafer’s eye, or speak wi’ my revolver phonographically inter another galoot’s ear, I might, perhaps, oblige you. But, ef ye war wantin’ me ter vote for you for President, or ter lend e a milyun ter b’ild an elevated railroad wi’, [don’t udge ye've tackled the wrong man, nor ther right, either. I’m bu’sted, by thunder!"* “Ah! but the latter is also my case. Iam sorely in need of money. I must have money!” “Yas, I presume so; but thet don’t say I’m yer bank to draw on. Who are you?” “T am—Carlos Cambre, in disguise!” replied the man, in a whisper. “Oh! you are, eh?” Hard Cheek replied, ¢, ying Mr. Cambre speculatively. ‘* Why the disguise “Because I did not wish you to recognize me, and get the drop on me.” f “Oh, you didn’t? See hire, ain't you off the track?” “No! Why do you ask?” “ Because it kinder ‘pears ter me as_how you're mistaken in ther chap ye’re talkin’ to, Greet Caesar! Bet my life you’ve been drinking.” “No, [haven’t Nary a drink for a week. But drunk or no drunk, you are Deadwood Dick!” “The devi’, you say!” .“ No, simply Deadwood Dick. I know you, for all ‘our altered appearance, You can’t make the Red ot Harris business work any longer.” Hard Cheek calmly lit a cigar, as he gazed at the’ i niard. ere mrs & mad-house near here?’’ was bis next tho ughtfol question, “Not that 1 know of. Wh me “Why, I didn’t know but you had just escaped, “Pah! Deadwood Dick, bah! Don't try to stuff me, for 1 won’t hold another mite, | What I want is money, and if you give it to me, I'll let you go on your own hook; otherwise, I shall introduce you to these gentlemen of Flood Bar, who love you 80 well.” “You don’t say so!” ath co I i and the cme rage we Toi ce oh will be aerial suspension by the windpipe. “Well, now you do hit me precisely, Vira Cheek said, with enthusiasm. ‘‘I never tried hanging yet, and vould really like to take a trial. Supposin’ yon just go over and whisper to some of them gentle- ” men, that I am anxious to swing from the most con- venient tree at once!’ Cambre swore the most horrible Spanish oath up- on his list. The cool, provoking nonchalance of this “But, the money?” he reminde “You have lots, and must divide, or I will betray you, as sures my name is Cambre.”’ + “Go long and do it then; I’m waiting with all patience for you to do it,” Hard Cheek laughed, mockingly. : For a few moments the ex-licutenant hesitated. ie was wondering if, as the Trump Card had said, he were not off the track. No! he would rot have it so, and raising his voice he shouted: “Help! Help! Deadwocd Dick |” , CHAPTER XII. he DEADWOOD DICK’S SUCCESSOR, - Amono the improvements which were being added _ to the Flood Bar, was a printi: outa dirt; -press, which turned littie six by ten sheet, containing the e Bar, and such other information as am of 21 could be gleaned from the Deadwood papers, which were brought in on the stages. This Miner's Progress considered itself an enterprise of much importance; had its staff of reporters, who furnished * accurate and vivid” descriptions of every street-fight, braw! or wholesale slaughter, and having a large sale a twenty-five cents apiece, it managei to exist as a newspaper. On the morning of the day, in the evening of which Hard Cheek encountered Carlos Cambre at the Inter-Ocean, the Miner's Progress contained the fol- lowing item: “Roap-AGentry. A new star is said to have dawn. ed upon the horizon, to replace notorious Deadwood Dick, whose head still continues to attract attention at the museum. This time it isa woman, whois said to have one time been Deadwood Dick's wife, al- though they have not been living together for some time past. This female robber is beautiful, refined, and well educated, but a very devil-cat of reckless- ness. She is at the head of Dick's old band, and swears to spare no pains to reap a harvest of ven- geance upon her enemies, of whom she has a num- ber. So ye enemies of Deadwood Dick, look out lest Toate, Pons by this female serpent of the Black s. The cries of Carlos Cambre through the Inter- Ocean saloon, of course created considerable excite- ment, for almost anywhere in the Black Hills, the name of Deadwood Dick was an omen of ill to come. The crowd quis approached; all games were for the time suspended, and a murmur of wonder and excitement ran riot meray. “Where is he?—where is Deadwocd Dick, you ga. loot?’ shouted Joe Hallowton, one of the proprie- tors. as he elbowed his way forward, “Show me the road-agent cuss.” “Deadwood Dick's dead, long ago!” shouted the crowd. ‘Got his head cut off mit his neck!’ ‘Died frum a cut in his thrut!”’ “Got his head on exhibition, over yere in ther museum.” “Too thin! Dick's speerit aire roamin’ wi’ angel Gabriel, long ago.” Anda dozen other exclamations of a correspond- ing nature, * Whar is this man?” repeated Hallowton, draw ing a revolver which carried a fifty cartridge, “I want ter see him an’ play Fourth o’ July wi’ his royal ribs.’’ “Here! here he is!" shouted back Carlos Cambre, pointing accusingly toward Hard Cheek. “There’s your man, wi’ his hirsute possessions at off, and pao ar. to Hard Cheek, ar's your huckle an tmy ducats the man’s Deadwood Dick.’ . “Oh! yes, without doubt!” Hard Cheek assented, with a grim little laugh and a grimace. “That galoot Deadwood Dick?" said Hallowton, as, backed by his crowd, he paused in front of the youth and surveyed him critically from head to foot. ‘That galoot ther a pes kuss? Oh, no! that ain’t he, my friend, an’ I'll bet my shanty on’t,”’ **No! that ain’t no Deadwood Dick, no more am 1!" cried a great, lumbering miner, fresh in from Deadwood City; “nary a bit of it. ckon I know thet same Dick, fer he owes me acouple o' hundred, wich he cheekily borrowed at. different times w’en he tolled the stage.”’ “T say it is Ed Harris, and I'm tive of it!” Cambre protested, ‘and I command you, citizens, who have the power, to arrest this man and deliver him up to the proper authorities, I stand the > ” ont Ho! ho! Reckon we ain’t stickin’ our fingers inter unobstrusive pie, just for your sake, Mr. Cam- bre!” Hallowton replied, scornfully, “Ef ye want ter take ther chap, go ahead an take him, fer I won't ‘ bet yer life.’ i. heliNor i)" Nor!” chimed in thecrowd, “Hard

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Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. Cheek ain’t Deadwood Dick no more’n old Sittin’ Bull aire Presydent Hayes!” “Great ham-bone, no!’’ put in Old Avalanche, just at this moment coming up. ‘ Deadwood Dick aire up on the shores o' Jordan, pannin’ out golden wings fer ther use 0’ angels. Just got a phonograftic tele- gram frum him. Hey, Cheeky, my fragrant poppy, war they tryin’ ter make ye out a cavortin’, buckin’ roid-rider?”” ** Well, yes, it kiader looks so!’ the Trump Card replied, witha.smile. ‘Shouldn’t wonderif they’d succeeded, ef ther argyment had cum from any one but this galoot,” with a wry glance at Cambre, who, secing that defeat was his, had turned, and was stalking away. Ani from thence on, Hard Cheek was a citizen among citizens, and all thoughts of his being Dead- woorl Dick were dissipated. Cambre, however, hung like a shadow upon his trail, and could not be shaken off. Evil was there in the Spaniard’s heart, which needs must be let out. He was living at the biz hotel upon the eastern bank, and Edith Stone, the girl-flend who was his evil-genius, lived with him, Ste rarely ever came forth, and when she did it was only to take a morn- ing ga'lop for the benefit of her health, which was | rapidly declining. The night of Cambre’s defeat, he returned to their suit of rooms, in a very ugly temper. Edith was evidently waiting for him, for she glided forward from a dark corner—a wild, unearthily gleam in her dusky eyes. She hai grown strangely “le and thin, and less pretty than in the days when i:k had met her up in the Black Hills. “Well?” sha. demanded, confronting Cambre, fiorcely—* what news do you bring, this time?” “Good, in some respects—bad in others!’ he re- lied, seating himself. “I have found Deadwood iok, As I told you I have suspected—he is the Hird Cheek, who is becoming so popular here.”’ ‘*Ha! then he és alive!” she hissed, a wild, half-de- mac expression upon her countenance, “* Yes, he is alive, and so is Leone Harris. She is at the head of Deadwood Dick's band.” “ How do you know?” ‘Tread it in the paper.” * And does Deadwood Dick know that she is lead- ing ais band?” **T cannot say as to that, for the news only came out in this morning’s paper. Besides, I have no posi- tive proof that this Hard Cheek is Deadwood Dick, and if he is not, Dick is undoubtedly dead, and that was his head the Californians had upon exhibition. I accused Hard Cheek of being Dick, and called down the crowd upon him, to-night, but they cleared him by a unanimous decision that he was not Dead- word Diex. S$», as the matter rests, it is hard to de- cide whether he is our enemy or not.” “Ou! that the hour of my vengeance would come!”” the girl hissed, as she paced up and down the room, like an enraged tizress. “Ah! Deadwood Dick you evil, the day will come when it shall be in my pow- er to rend your hard heart as you have rent mine.” * Yes, there is at least one chance Deft for ven- geance, even if Dick is not alive, Through his wife we can strike him a blow. So take comfort, and while we are waiting for our opportunity to nab Le- one, we will also keep a vigilant eye upon the move- ments of Hard Cheek.” Theretreat of Deadwood Dick's men wasin alittle valley-pocket, some twelve miles northwest of Flood Bar. In the pocket, which had but one means of access, through a narrow gap or natural fissure, the outlaw-hunters had built them a village, consist- ing of perhaps a score of cabin-dwellings, a general store house, and a jail or strong cabin, which had been constructed especially for the accommodation of prisoners, is was the main rendezvous of the whole of Deadwool Dick’s Road-agent or Regulator band, hich now comprised nearly 4 hundred members, each an advocate of death to rufflanism. This great force was divided into five divisions of twenty each, and all but Lieutenant Floyd’s command was scat- tered in other parts of the Hills, where they carried out the declaration of war against outlaws, accord- ing to Deadwood Dick's will. Each member wore a silver badge on which was engraven the words— ‘““Dgapwoop Dick's Eaaurs.” In the village we will now go, tosee what is occur- ring there, one day later. Some of the Eagles were lounging lazily in front of their cabins; others were strolling about, perhaps accompanied by a female, for a Aree per cent, of the men were married and had families. In front of one of the prettiest cabins, two women were sitting upon camp-stools, bathed in the fresh morning sunshine, and talking as they sewed upon some light dress fabric. One of them we have often met before, and by her supple form, her beautiful face, and her sh ning eyes, we might recognize her as Leone Harris, the wife of Deadwood Dick, had we not her wealth of brick-red hair for further proof and identification. | Yes, it was indeed Leone, still looking fresh and : girlish, despite the trouble she had passed through: } Leone, whom last we met under hose distressing circumstances (in No. 49) which robbed her of her infant son, and separated her from her husband, whom every one now believed to be dead. And very sad and grief-stricken was the little woman now at times; then, at others, she would grow fierce and resentful, and long to strike a blow for every drop of Deadwood Dick's blood. Flying Floyd it was who had found her roaming alone in the mountains, and recognized her by a previous description Deadwood Dick had enthusias- tically given of her. He had brought her home to the village, and in the absence of Dick, the men | had heartily acknowledged her as their chief and queen, The companion sitting by her side was she whom Flying Floyd had rescued from Bg John’s ruffian i band—Nolie Waltonby—the only legitimate child of ” the Musquekang valley herder and farmer. Since their escape from the Devil’s pit, Floyd had never found it convenient to take her to her father, for the lieutenant was really in love with the dusky beauty, and he knew that the case was not urgent. And it was she who was speaking. *“T must prevail upon Mr. Floyd to take me to my father’s home, so that I may see him whom old Mar- keesa taught me to hate. If I can induce him to give me back the stolen wealth which rightfully be- longs to me, I will then return here and stay as long as you will permit me.” “Which will be as long as you choose to stay, sweet sister,” Leone replied, ‘for your company is acomfort tome. None of the other women are so near to my nature as you, andI shall ever wish to have you near me. But, I fear that will not be lo ' for if my eyes are not telling mo wrong, there another who soon will claim a larger share in your love than I shall dare to hope for; and there the lucky one comes, now,” se added, pointing up to- ward the gap, from which a horseman was just en- tering the pocket. It was Fiying Floyd, and the soft flush that crept into Nolie’s dusky cheek, betrayed that an interest had been awakened in her heart for the handsome, dashing lieutenant. : 4 “Mr, Floyd has never said anything more than _ commonplaces, to me,’ she replied, conscious that her heart was beating with delicious little throbs. “No, perhaps not: but his eyes speak where his | lips are oe eae On! I know all about it, 4 Nolie, He will propose, ere long, and if you think . you ean Jove him, such as he is, you had better ac- cept, for he is a good, true man, I took r Dick | @ was, a hunted outcast. and I don’t think I shall ever regret it. For though they tell mo he is dead, I~ shail never cease to love his memory,” :

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— Bx ee = Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. By this time Flying Floyd had ridden up and dis- mounted. , ™ Back, my lady,” he_ cried, sombrero to Leone, and then to been speedy?” ‘ “Yes, lieutenant; in fact, you never seem to idle away your time. How are things in Flood Bar?” “Lively, and growing more 50 each day. I think in time this section of the hills is destined to Jay Deadwood and Custer in the shade.” : ; “Indeed? Did you hear anything concerning Di- visions Three, Four, Five, and Six?” “Yes, They are all working well, and the people are just beginning to realize their worth. Last week Division Four captured the whole of Outlaw Tom's gang, and delivered them up into the keeping of the military at Reno. And I see the affair was credited, by the Deadwood Pioneer, as one cf the good deeds of Deadwood Dick’s men,” “Ah! that is good. What prospects are there of your getting at Big John and his gang?” : “Oh! we shall fetch them by and by. I have in- trusted the matter to my sub-aid’s keeping.” “Did you find out anything concerning the errand upon which I sent you?’ Leone asked, gazing thoughtfully away. “Yes, my lady. Carlos Cambre and the woman, Edith Stone, are both in Flood Bar, and that they mean to strike at your life upon the firs: opportu- nity, Tam certain.” * Probably, if they know where I am.” “Oh! they do, for the £rog7'ess has announced that you are with us,” “* Well, we can consider that pair included as_ruf- fians, and I give it as my order that you hang them up, the very first time you meet them. If I meet them, I shall shoot them asI would an offending wolf—for what else are they than human wolves? Did you learn anything of Hawk Harrington?” “No more than that he is in Flood Bar—waiting for you also, without doubt.” “Yes, and for him Ihave a bullet laid up. Poor Nora! she, who was a prisoner with me, under Hawk Harrington's power! I wonder whether or not she is alive?” Ves “Probably alive, but hiding. Now, Miss Nolie, if you are ready, and I think you are, I will order another horse, and we will ride down into the Mus- quekang valley and interview this rascally parent of yours. I think I can talk turkey to him!’ CHAPTER XIiil. RURIED TREASURE—HOSTILITIES AGAINST HARRINGTON, Mr. Watronsy, the suagaskang: valley farmer, and his daughter were returning to their home through the gloaming of the night following the licutenant’s return from Flood Var to Deadwood Dick’s village. They had been to an intermediate stage station, a few miles to the eastward of their residence, where business had kept, the farmer until late. But, mounted upon swift, reliable steeds, they had no fears but they could reach their home in safcty. The road or trail lay through the bottom of the valley, which was matted by a dense crowth of oung trees, and consequently it grew dark within his forest, ere it was really dark outside upon the clear land. “Go Jang, Sula!" chirped the farmer, as he ur red along lis horse. “I don’t like to be out late of nights, any more, for my recent iliness and the fact of Deadwood Dick’s robbers being around, makes me nervous.” % : “But, papa, you do not think they are here in our valley, do you?” questioned Ida, in alarm. “There is no telling where they may not be, daughter,” was the reply, ‘‘ Because cf our pretty home, they may suspect that they could realize a larre haul of money by raiding us,’ “Oh! dear, to think of those awful men, makes me shudder.” Oyril Waltonby suddenly drew rein, ? . 2 FX : : ayly, doffling bis olie. '“ Have I not ** What is ii, father?” Ida asked, anxiously. “Nothing, child, except that I wish you to r'de ow home, alone. It is but half a mile yet, and it will not take long for you to accomplish that distance on the back of your noble steed.” ; “But what will you do, papa?” “Oh! Tam going to see Joel Garner concerning cutting some timbers for me, and as this is much the nearest route to his house, I will start from here, Tell your dear mother I will be home in a couple of hours, without fail.”’ ‘““Won’t you let me go with you, papa? I should enjoy the ride so much.” “No, not to-night, Ida,” the farmer replied, and smiling a good-by, he spurred his horse into the ein oe ona and was soon hidden from view by the ushes, When out of sight he slackened the speed of his horse to a walk, and as he rode slowly along, fell into a fit of musing. “T don't think the child suspected me of an un- truth, as sharp as she is,” he muttered, glancing sharply around and listening. ‘‘ No, there she goes, now, homeward bound, so 1 need have no fears of de- tection. Get up, Cherry, for I am anxious to lear if my treasure is still resting intact.” And so saying he again spurred on into a gallop, riding with a grace and ease not often observed men past the middle age. For perhaps half an hour he kept on through the dark woodland. his steed seeming to know well the night-enshrouded path; then the farmer drew rein, and dismounted et the foot of a pine-tree, which stood a few rods away from the trail, First glancing cautiously around to see that no one was immediately near, le pulled away a great mass of leaves which the wind had evidently drifted against the tree's base, aud reeching down into a hole among the mariecd roots, he pulled out a safe of tin, which was Jocked with a tiny padlock. “Thank Heaven the money is all intact!” he mut- tered, hefting the safe. “My dream was fortunately alie. Idon’t know howI came to dream of Mar- keesa, for she is far away —unless— unless Rid Laric has let her escape as he intimated in his words to my daughter, es, the money is here—all of Mar- keesa’s wealth, which she intrusted to me after our marriage,” Vitting a small key into the lock, he raised the lid, and glanced in to see that all was satisfactory. Ap- parently it was, for he relocked the primitive treas- ury, replaced it in the hole, then covered the leaves carefully over. “There!’’ he. muttered; ‘Sit can now remain there until I die, when my will will disclose its hiding- pach to my wife and daughter, Ida. Now I will re- urn home, lest suspicion be created by my ab- sence, Night at Flood Bar, with an air most stifling in its heat, even though it be yet but May, a spring-time month, All the population are lying around loose. pe of doors, fanning and drinking, and drinking and anning. Old Avalanche and Hard Cheek were sitting upon the beeouy of the Intcr-Ocean, watching the crowd upon the single street below, and across on the Bar, where cosey frame structures were fast replacing the canvas abodes. Squirrel Creek had been obstructed by a mighty dam, just above the Bar, which backed a level ‘ars of water far back into the dark, narrow eanyon, where the chief mining interest and attention were turned. Upon this lake or pond the soaring reddish moon threw a strange soft radiance, and dwelt with ine effect upon the picturesque landscape and scene elow. Avalanche and the shaved-headed Trump Card were calmly enjoying their cigars, and listening to the strains of music diffused by a San Francisco German band, now and then exchanging a few | remarks,

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24 Deadwood Dick's Eagles. But something occurred, presently, which revived their interest in animate things. A man came rine. through the veranda, and descended the stairs to the street below. Instantly uirrel Sam, who had also been sitting upon the balcony, arose and glided softly after. “Thar!” quoth Avalanche, with a screwing-up of his mouth—‘I told ye. Thet ’are Squar’l Samuel hes got a secrit, an’ wich aire Hawk Harrington, aire concerned iv et. Just place yer right fut before ver left, Hard Cheek, and pedestrianize along wi’ yer uncle, ef ye’ve got any desire to precipitate yerself ag’in’ an ‘arthquake o’ fun, fer fun aire thar in this arid atmosphere, you bet! Mebbe we won't be uv an use, and mebbe, ag’in, we kin put in a little work fer Sammy.” “Me better you let ther galoot fut his own stockin's!" suggested Hard Cheek, speculatively. “But I'll go, an’ we'll hear ther musick ef we don’t make er cent.” Accordingly the two eccentrics arose, and started down the stairs in the wake of Squirrel Sam, who was by this time pe tan uP the street, closely dog- ging the footsteps of Hawk Harrington, the San Luis valley herder. What the mute miner wanted with the herder was the question which puzzled the minds of both Hard Cheek and the Annihilator, and bound were they to keep on until they acquired the solution. Hawk Harrington was presently seen to enter a newly-erected cabin at the upper end of the town, and Squirrel Sam was seen to take refuge behind a clump of trees, with the evident intention of watch- ing the cabin. But he came forth as the Annihilator and Hard Cheek approached, a hard look upon his handsome features. ‘Hello! aire thet you, Sam'l?” Avalanche saluted, good aren eey, “What's up wi’ yer ducks? Hain’t urned rate re hev you?” The miner shook his head with a smile, and then, for the first time that he had ever been heard in Flood Bar, he spoke: “No, not exactly playing road-agent, my friends, but keeping watch of that devil in man’s disguise, who just entered yonder cabin." “You mean Hawk Harrington, eh?” “T do, most decidedly—the man butcher, outlaw, thief and kidnapper. Perhaps you have wondered since I have been among you, why I remaine literally mute. I may as well tell you that it was be- causa of a vowI had sworn—a vow of vengeance against that man—never to speak until I had killed him. The vowI have broken, but I shall kill him all the same,” “ An’ ef te want any help, ye’re’s a part o’ ther great Annihilation left, w’at kin lend ye a fluke in ther most liberal manner, fer I ows that same pil- , aha asvore, in ther settlin’ up 0’ Deadwood Dick’s lebts of gratitude ter his enemies, But what are ye down on Hawk Harrington about, Squar’l?” ‘Because he brought desolation upon me and mine!" Sam replied, a dark shadow coming over his countenance. ‘If you care to hear, I can soon in- form you of my hatred for the accursed wretch and you will say that my hate is not without a cause. ‘A short time ago I was a happy man in my snuz little home down neir Virginia City, Nevada. I had a wife and two pretty children, age three and one; also, my home was made papoies by the presence of my sister, a beautiful girl of eighteen. Thns, with a libsral mining income, I had things pretty much to my lil , “ But one day, when I was absent, my home was raided, my money stolen, my wife and children mas- sacred and_scalped, and my sister carried off into captivity. I returned to behold the fearful sizht; then I swore before God never to rest until I had ed each and every one concerned in the tragedy. It was a part of my oath never to speak to mortal or woman until my vow was fulfilled. And man never have I until this moment. “BY investigation . found that the chief marau- knowed it, an’ that fu’st chap, | ders were Bannock Indians, and that this Hawk Harrington was their temporary leader, for havi seen my sister, he had resolved to possess her, an got the reds to assist him. The Indians I killed and scalped ere I came here, and now I want Hawk Har- rington, to complete the list. That he has my sister in yonder cabin, or somewhere close at hand, | am almost certain. She wasin that Black Cabin, I have since learned, and escaped with another girl on the ph of the fire. ButI believe he has recaptured er,”” “Great ham-bone, w’at enlarged the swallerin’ capacity uv old Joner! Then that cussis just sp’ilin’ furahang. Are ye with us in ther celebration of our festivities, Cheeky?” “That I am!’’ Hard Cheek replied, with enthus}- asm. 3 “Then come along—forrard—march!” And swinging his hat, the Annihilator led the way i a the cabin, followed by Sam and the Trump ard. CHAPTER XIV. THE TRUMP CARD'S GREAT SHOT, Ir was but a matter of a few rods to the cabin which Hawk Harrington had entered, a few mo- ments before, Straight up to the door of the cabin the three men marched, never thinking for a moment that the con- cealed ruffian-herder might shoot them down as they came. It was a good solid whack that Old Avalanche gave the door, and then he and his companions list- ened intently. ‘What's wanted?” was demanded by gruff tones from the inside. ‘* Who’n the devil be ye?” “Who? Great uproariously-demented ham-bone w’at kicked up a row in ther stummick uv staid old Joner! Iset possible ye don’t recognize us? Jist come out hayr, Mister Hawksum Harrington, fer we wanter ter interview ye on portant bizness relating ter trade an’ commerce, ebbe we'll make yea present of a big bonanza, or p’r’aps we'll give yea seat in the House on the floor!” ‘* Get out, or I'll put an ounce ball through ye!” “Oh! pshaw! ye wouldn’t do sech an inhuman act as that, would ye, beloved Hawk? ye wouldn’t go back on yer relatives, would ye? Kim out and deliver an address. Thet’s all we want 0’ ye, beloved Hawker o’ female beauty—jest ter speechify ter us w’ether et aire ter be silver or greenbacks—w’ether et ar’ ter be Sittin’ Bull or old Grant, next term!” There was no response from the inside, but from sounds of things slamming about, it became evident to the three men that the San Luis valley herder was literally “ getting up on his ear.” “Oh! he’s D’ilin’!’’ observed Hard Cheek, with an appreciative grin. ; “But won't git cooked till we snatch him bald- headed!’ grunted the great Annihilator, with a grim laugh. “Cum! cum! aire ye ever goin’ ter appear before us, you ar/istic son-of-a-polar bear— you pin-feathered goslin’?” The answer came in a rather sudden if not unex- ted way. A bul'et from an unseen source whist- ed so close to Avalanche’s ear, or where had once been his ear, as to cut away a lock of hair that the old scout had trained down to hide his loss. “Whew! that was a cluss one!” mildly remarked et! age glancing around. ‘‘Cum frum inside, reck, “Yas, that’s ther percise location from wither cumeth thet bullet. Hawk Harrington has opened his batteries onter us. Cluss shave, too. but nothin’ like sum w’at this old disease 0’ destruction hes bin through. Once I war so nigh ter heaven that I hed really got ter ther shore o' ther eternal river. But ther ferry-boat had bu’ste? her b’iler an’ war laid up fer repairs. so U got tired o’ waitin’ an’ kim back ter dwell amonz ye—solid, actooal fact, by gracious, Oh! yes, that war a sassy bullet, my beloved dew- drop, but not a dasted sarcumstance ter them ther

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<7. Deadwood Dick’s Eagies. : rare Great Annihilator bas dispatched as messengers 0’ foreign glory. Once molded a bullet that went clean thr’u’ sixteen Injins, and afterwards served ter fill ther gums uv an old maid up in Yanktown, Dakoty. Et war made o’ gold, ye see!” “Tt is advisable for us to git out of this, and not make a target for the ruffian’s bullets!” said Squirrel Sam, as soon as the irrepressible Annihilator would let him drop in aword. ‘He probably has loop- holes in the walls, and could defend himself against a dozen, instead of two or three.” “Then what are we to do, insuch a case?” demand- ed Hard Cheek. “1 don’t know just yet. We'll retreat under cover and consider.” “ Hold on! don't guy up yet! Mebbe ther galoot will wanter accept. Aire ye thar, beloved Hawk?” An angry growl was the only response from the in- side, and that growl human and savage. “Oh! yes, I see ye’re thar,’’ continued the scout. **S*pose ye ain’t made up yer mind ter cum out and Jet us heer frum ye on ther great political an’ finan- cial question?” “No! git out, curse you, or I'll send another bullet war’ inter ye!” ‘Great ham-bone thet enraged Joner! 'tain’t no use—” He paused a moment; then in a whisper added: “Sh!” T’ve struck an ijeer! Don’t speak loud on- lesst ye she'd rie pace et away—Cum back o’ ther house, an’ I'll tell ye.” Accordingly the three men crept around to the back side of the house, where there was but little space between the logs and mountain walls of cold gray rock. Darkness had increased into night by this time, and the tba moon was beaming all its mellow splendor down over an earth’s whole landscape, “ What’s yer plan?” Hard Cheek demanded, when the oe quartered behind the rude dwelling. ‘ Out with it. “You bet!.nevyer know’d ther Annihilation ter keep an ijeer ontil some one else had conceived et e? Great automatical ham-bone thet distressed old oner, no! my ijeer’s ter smoke him cut!” re Smoke him out?” Yas, thet’s ther sentence I phonografically spake —smoke him out, just ther same as ye would a koon ovt uv a tree, or an old skulemarm out o’ ther skule’us. I’ve bin thar, boyees, when I war a Jeetle shaver, knee-years old. Used ter smoke out ev’ry skulemarm reg’lar once a month. So git reddy wi’ yer shootin’irons, an’ T'll show ye how ther great ae ferret pou: os) sated ‘ollowing the Annihilator’s directions, Squirrel Sam and rd Cheek hurried away to ees stable for straw, while Avalanche watched the cabin. They soon returned with fine hay, which was still better for their purpose. By the smoke escaping from the chimney, it was evident that a large fire was burning within the cabin, which all the more favored the purpose of our Sens - eizing a bundle of hay in one arm, Avalanche allowed Hard Cheek and Squirrel Sam to boost him up to the roof of the cabin. And while he was stuff- ing the hay into the chimney, he made a discovery which caused him to send up a yell of rage, as he leaped off from the roof to the ground. hile he had been ascending to the roof, Hawk Harirngton had softly stolen out of the front door. and was bounding down toward the dam of Squirrel Creek. “He's gone! Great everlasting ham-bone thet kaflummixed Joner! he’s gone! An’ he kerries a big bundle in his arms. wich looks like a female!” shouted Avalanche, as he reached ground, a distance of twelve feet. “Give me a rifle and I'll wing him!” eried [Hard Cheek, cagerly. * Bet my dirty shirt I kin knock mM so stiff he'll never as much as wiggle one’t.”” ‘No! no! you shall not shoot!” Squirrel Sam re- C at Ye ooh yp 86 plied, quickly. ‘It would be risking yonder maid- en’s life, and she is my sister. Come, our legs are as strong as his, and we can soon chase him down,” * Ay! ay! hyar we go like a great roarin’, cavort- in’ thunder-starm 0’ terrificossity an’ subversion—a purely Norweejan snow-flake o’ cantankcrous re- r-bution!”” shouted the old veteran, as he nimbly led the way in pursuit of the flying ranchero of the San Luis valley. On—on with the speed of a prairie deer, the burly herder bounded. sure-footed and yet reckless, as he made his great flying leaps; and on—on followed his three foes, at the top of their speed. Harri nm was a swift and easy runner, and it soon became evident that he would not be'run down so readily as one might suppose. From the cabin to the dam, the distance was some- thing over two hundred yards, and sloping down- ward, Sead was equally in favor of pursuer and pursued. On reaching the bank of the dam, nothing would be left the ee but to plunge into the water, or stop and fight back. At least, so ees ig Avalanche, but be was doomed to disappointment. On reaching the shore, Hawk Harrington gave a yell of defiance; then was seen to leap into the skiff, and pull rapidly out over the calm moonlit waters of the dam, into the shadows of the canyon walls, A groan escaped Squirrel Sam, and something sus- piciously like a curse found expression from the lips of old Avalanche, at the provoking defeat which stared at them, Hard Cheek fortunately, was the coolest one of the three. He neither seemed «xcited nor an; A He stopped upon the shore of the dam, and drew a revolver trom the leg of bi: knee-boot, where he habitually carried his weapons. He cocked it, and then glanced searchingly out over the waters, which shimmered like gold in the briiliant moonlight. Hawk Harrington was pulling desperately toward shelter in the canyon; be had Squirrel Sam’s sister between him and the Peeves in three mirates more he would be out of the reach of bullets. Hard Cheek took this all in at a glance, and hesi- tated. Avalanche and Squirrel Sam were watch- ing him eagerly, intently— hoping almost against ope. oth were expert shots, but neither would have for a moment dared the attempt of picking off a man who covered nearly the whole of his person with a human shield, and that shield the very one they were trying to save. beet or it will be too late!” Squirrel Sam gasp- ed excitedly. Somehow he put faith in the unerring aim cf this young sport. “Yas. go on, fer ther sake o’ ther great ham-bone that delivered from peril old Joner!” assented Ava- lanche, craning his neck forward, his fingers work- ing nervously, as if he would like the opportunity of putting in his leaden mark, also. : “You'll take the risks, eh?’ Hard C: eek interro- gated, still watching the departing skiff with the gaze of a lynx, “It’s a mighty oncertain thing wether I'l] kill the one or two of ’em,” “Go on!’ Squirrel Sam replied, a dark, vengeful expression fitting upon his countenance, ‘‘ Better Le ah ee now, than yonder hell-hound should ive. Fire! Hard Cheek needed no second invitation; he evi- dently had no love for this Del Norte man, tho! he made no expression <f actual enmity in w 5 He raised his revolver —a shining, gold-mounted affair of the Derringer pattern—and glanced rege ‘8 the tube, between the sights. All he could see 0! the person of Hawk Harrington was the ruffian arms as they worked desperately at the paddles, and a patch of his skull to one side of the maiden's neck, and just back of his left ear, Otherwise he was effectually screened, Hard Cheek seemed scarcely to take aim ere he

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“26 Deadwood Dick's Bagies. pulled trigger. A tiny flash, a sharp, ringing re- wees that échoed and re-echoed between the canyon Wi He had fired upon the very eve of the skiff’s dis- appearance between the walls, where the gloom was dense, and nothing of the result of the venture could be learned for some time. There was no answer—neither a death-yell nor a shout of defiance. But, by and by, the three men gave a great shout of joy, as they beheld the skiff drifting back into the dam, with a slight girlish figure standing up- right in it, waving the slouch sombrero of the herd- er, who lay dead over the stern. Theshot of Hard Cheek had been a most remarka- ble one, and turning as he beheld the results, Ava- lanche gazed long and earnestly at the young sport. But, whatever he thought he did not just then ex- press in words, for the skiff touched shore, and Squirrel Sam sprung forward and caught his sister in his arms with a yell of delight, which even a Co- manche vocalist might have been proud of, CHAPTER XV. WHICH IS A CHAPTER OF EVENTS. Ir was a gladsome reunion, that of Squirrel Sam and his sister Nora, but if would have been a far hap- jer one, had the miner’s wife and child been alive o have participated in it, But they were dead, and it was but meager satisfaction to Squirrel Sam that Hawk Harrington lay dead at his feet as an offering of vengeance to his slaughtered ones, The bullet, examination proved, had penetrated to the brain through the skull just back of the left ear, ‘and as soon as the first greetings with his sister were over Squirrel Sam turned a..d thank- ed Hard Cheek very heartily for saving a life so precious to him; while he and Avalanche declared the shot to be one of the most remarkable they had ever seen, “Great ham-bone that culozized old Joner!” the old veteran observed, enthusiasm beaming from his wrinkled countenance—*' thet were shutiu’, you jest bet yer Amerikan birthright. Nevyer see’d but one cuss as ked do as well, an’ thet war Deadwood Dick, in his shutin’ fer ther Big Bonanza mine, upin ’Reka. it aire an actooal fact, thet he = twenty-four lead ills ag’in’ one spot on ther bull’s-eye and rung the ell ev’ry time. Then thar war Buffler Benjamin, he war a good shot, but I reckon, Cheeky, thet ye and Dick stand at ther head of a class.”’ “And you must allow me to thank you, also,” said Nora La Grange, putting forth her soft little hand. **Had it not been for your opportune shot, I should in all probability, have been subjected to one of the most forrlule fates that this dead rufflan could have eonceived. Thank God, I have ever been able to hold my own, since he captured me, brought me with another lady into the mountains, and shut us up into the cabin, which later was borne h'ther on the flood.” *“ This other lady—who was she?” Sam asked. “She was Deadwood Dick’s wife, and so sweet a little woman, that she often was a great comfort to. me,” Nora replied. ‘‘We were shut up in a room together, with a mad ndian woman in the room be- tween us and liberty. Thus we were unable to es- cape, until we fought our way out on the night of the fire. Leone escaped, I guess—at least, we got separated, and I was recaptured by a couple of Hawk Harrington's tools,” “Well, I thank God tnat that devil in human shape is dead,” said Squirrel Sam, candidly, ‘ for it” takes a great load off of my mind that my vow of vengeance is complete. What shall we do with the worthless corse?”’ * Chuck et in ther dam, an’ let ther fishes nibble sot it!” advised Avalanche. * Nary!’? put in Hard Cheek, peremptorily. ‘‘ I’m ~ jest about uv ther opinion that thet ‘ar corpuss be- longs ter a feller about my size, who swings around ther cirele under ther name of Hard Check, the original Trump Card.” “How so?” demanded Squirrel Sam, in some sur- prise. ‘‘ ll admit that you shot the cuss, but is that any saying that his corse is yours?” “T reckon ther defunct herder air mine!” was the fon iene “Til leave it ter Avalanche, ef ye like. “Very well. sessor of the body, I have no ob; replied, with some curiosity. valanche and the sport accordingly stepped to one side, and the latter whispered a few words, which were inaudible save to the old man. ‘*Et’s all right,” the Annihilator nodded, as he returned, his countenance bearing a surprised ex- pression, while Hard Cheek had kept on down the street into town. “Ye mought as well leave ther karkuss lyin’ whar et is, fer [reckon ther boy’s en- titled ter et about as much as any one, ‘Very well; then be shall have it,” Squirrel Sam replied, without question. “ Let us go back into town. Which they accordingly did, on the way meeting Jim Belmont and Miaco, who, upon learning the miner’s story of his past wrongs, congratulated him warmly. After they were all back in Miaco’s tent, enjoying a venison feast in commemoration of Miss Nora’s ceca Squirrel Sam drew old Avalanche to one side. “This Hard Cheek, scout—is fe not the noto- aoe Deadwood Dick?” was the miner’s interroga- ion, “What? Hard Cheek my poor Deadwood Dickey who got his head amputated? Guess‘ not, Mr, Squar 1. Idon’t reckon you're on the right track.” ‘Then who is Hard Cheek?” “Can't tell ye, pard, fer it’s ag’in’ all ther princi- ples taught me in my category. So ax me no ques- tions and I’}l tell ye no lies.” ‘ If Avalanche says you are to be pos- jection,” the miner And this was the sum total that could be squeezed | from the old veteran of the Indian war-path. What he knew concerning the young sport of the mines, he was evidently determined to keep locked within his own breast. In the mean time Hard Cheek, after having left the party at the dam, had tramped back toward town, his head bowed as if he was in deepest thought. Bat no words on his part expressed these thoughts, whatever they were. On reaching that part of the shore street where the business was mostly concentrated he was about entering the Inter-Ocean, when he was tapped on the shoulder by a small boy, and an unsealed note was slipped into his hand. ’ rh be Mr. Hard Cheek, ain't you?” the boy asked. “Yas, [reckon so. Where did you get this?’ the Trump Card demanded, in some euriceys : ne _ a lady give me a three bits ter fetchit,” was the reply. ; iY at kind of a lady, boy?’ ter. “Ah!” Hard Cheek smiled at the boy’s earnest- ness. ‘‘Are you sure such a lady gave you this,_ boy?” the lad skurried away. : Stepping inside the Inter-Ocean, Hard Cheek open- ed the missive, ane hastily perused its contents, a aoe ty the mean time breaking out about his lips. read: z * “ Froop Bar, Mayers guises, and know you to be Deadwood Dick, m, “Mr. Harp Curerx:-—I have poner vor band. Come to mie at the edge of thew ay fly ‘A red-headed lady, sir, as purty as a purty pie- = Cnty > ea re ee “You bet Iam,” was the response, after which | ait

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oust = 4 2 Bo be the Ere ob ae ae, ae ra * _ -_~ should have, indeed, been so easily duped. _of what it does mean?” Deadwood Dick's Eagles. “RT the bluffs, to-night, for I want to sce you once more. Tam now at the head of your band, and your work of war against outlawry is steadily going on. Come, I beg, for I am eager to see you Once more, on earth, for we know not what moment one or the other of us may be stricken down. Come as soon as you get this. Leone.” This was all, yet it seemed to have much weight with the young sport, for Le gazed at it long and thoughtfully, reading and re-reading it, “She says she has penetrated my disguise,” he muttered, thrusting the note in his pocket and go- ing out into the open air. ‘I wonder how she came to guess my identity. I believed no one had any knowledge of my secret except Avalanche, and not he until to-night, though he may have been sus- icious. I will go and meet her; God ever bless er.” He looked first to the condition of his weapons, then hastened to the only livery-stable in the town, and hired a horse. So that in ten minutes he was leaving the town behind him, and riding over the rugged bhuffs to the eastward. His grace in the saddle was that same old reckless ease of Deadwood Dick’s, even though his face was changed beyond recognition by the loss of his mus- tache and hair. The moon was still throwing her ghostly flood of whitish light over the earth, as the horseman ap- proached the deep, dark forest, at the edge of | which he expected to find his wife—his Leone, whom he still loved as when first they wedded. “Poor girl!” he muttered, as his thoughts glanced back over the past, which had been euch a thing of horror—“she bas had it hard enough, since she linked her fate with mine. Never have we been at rest, in eerie and security, because of my reckless life and the bitter enemies I have made. But thank God, my men now are fighting bravely for me and in the defense of justice, and some day I hope to be pronounced a free man.” Dick, as he galloped fearlessly up to the edge of the dark, frowning forest had litile suspicion of foul pe He had not a thought that he might have een ni His wife had called him—that was enough, But as be = gyre: the designated spot, there was a whir, and a lasso settled and drew taut about his arms and waist, and he was a prisoner. The next instant, he was jerked bodily out of the saddle, and struck upon the ground with a force that momentarily stunned him. When he recovered he found himself securely bound, hand and foot, so tightly that it pained him to move a muscle. a ; And, bending over him, with devilish triumph ex- pressed on their faces, were the two whom he knew to be his inveterate enemics-—-Carlos Cambre and Edith Scone. “Ha! ha!” the ex-lieutenant laughed, demoniac- ally, ‘so we have got you, have we, Deadwood Dick —got you right where we must needs use you. Do you recognize us?” ‘ aes “Yes, as two devils in humanshape, Sir Spaniard! Hard Cheek replied, angrily, ‘You are both pos- sessed of such angelic purily, that I marvel I did not see through you ere I came,” , “Ha! ha! ‘twas rather a clever ruse to entrap you, sure enough. We really didn’t expect you, for wegave you credit for more sense than to believe ai would willingly come and deliver yourself right to our power.” Deadwood Dick bit his lip in vexation, that he Could he have had a moment’s warning of danger, he felt Positive he could bave avoided capture. **And do you know what your capture means, Ned Harris?” asked Edith Stone, fiercely. “No, young woman, I have not the slightest idea was the reply. “Then, you vile wretch, know that it means death to you—hell on earth, while there is aught leit of af > | - your body to burn at the stake. Look at me, man— do 1 look as if I would hesitate to torture you? Dol tremble, as though | bad some obnoxious job before me? No! “twill be a panacea to my aching heart to see you burn all up into a crisp! It will be glorious satisfaction, to appease my appetite for vengeance on you. Oh! my hour of triumph has come, Dick come, as [swore it should, You spurned the honest affection and broke the heart of one who worship: d you. Then Iswore to have your life, and that of your , accursed red-haired wife. She will follow you. “Yes, Mr. Deadwood Dick, it is morally certain that you have got to die, and we have prepared for your death by burning you at the stake—Indian fash- ion, you know!” Cambre put in, with a smile of tri- umph. ‘‘Suppose we won't have the divine pleasure cf hearing you beg, eh?”’ ‘No, I don’t think you will,” Hard Cheek replied. with achuckle. “TI ain’t one of the begging kind, I guess you'll find, if you search back to find my-pedi- gree, Besides, death and I know each other too well to get frightened at our respective shadows!" “You do,eh? Well, you'll perhaps have a chance to get better acquainted, then. You acknowledge yourself to be Deadwood Dick?” “Yes, if you are any better pleased by the ac- knowledgment. I am willing you should call me Deadwood Dick, Buffalo Bill, or Texas Jack—any- thing to please you.” Edith Stone and Cambre withdrew after a few moments, and appearcd to be holding an animated conversation, He lay in the moonlight and watched them nar- rowly, wondering if they rally meant to carry into execution their threat of buriing him at the stake. He had little Coubt now but that it was in their evil natures to do it, but whether they would or not was just (hen a problem he could not solve. Caimbre he saw presently begin to gather leaves and dry twigs about the base of a young iron-wood sapling, which he concluded was to be his death- stake. And he had assurance of it when Edith Stone ap- proached and spoke: “Deadwood Dick, I have come to give you one chance more for life. Wed me and take mé East to live, and we will omit this burning-at-the-stake busi- ness, and ever live happily together. Which shall it be—will you accept me, or, what you will find ten times more unendurable—a horrible death?” “Death—a thousand times death, in preference to linking myself with you! Go ahead—you'll find I am not afraid to die!” Without a word the female fiend turned away and assisted Cambre to gather more leaves. When enough were collected, Deadwood Dick was lifted bodily and bound to the stake, so tightly that the blocd could barely cireulate through his veins. Then the leaves and inflammable material were heaped around him, and, with a fiendish laugh, Car- los Cambre lit the fire in several places. CHAPTER XVI. THE GOLD OF MARKEESA—A SCENE ENDING IN A TRAGEDY, Ar about the same hour, something interesting was going on in the Musqu: kang valley, at the home of the Waltonbys, The night being warm and breath- less, the family were sitting upon the veranda of their handsome home, the two ladies engaged at some delicate needle-work, which the full light of the moon allowed them to execute, wlle Cyril Walton- by sat close at hand, smoking his brierwood pipe, He was nervous, habitually, perhays, for he con- stantly glanced around him, as if he expected a blow from some unseen foe. “Hark! who is coming down the valley, for Phear the sound of hoof-strokes?” said Mrs. Waltoerby, a little, matronly-looking woman, as she stopped, in her work. ‘tI wonder who can be abroad to-vight,”

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28 Deadwood Dick’s Fagies. i = i “Tt is Deadwood Dick’s road-agents, maybe!” suggested Ida, in alarm. ‘ Papa said that they were somewhere in this part of the hills.” “No! tis not the road-agents ” said Cyril Walton- by, gazing up the moonlit valley road, where four mounted persons had just come into view. ‘ There are but three men and a woman, and agents never venture out in such small numbers. It is possibly some wayfarers, who have set out for Deadwood in the cool of the night.” The quartette of riders came on down the road at a dashing gallop, but halted and dismounted upon the lawn before the Waltonby mansion. Two of these night-riders were Fiving Floyd, and Nolie sat mp others merely a protective body-guard which the lieutenant, had brought alone. They remained in the back-ground, while, with Nolie upon his arm, Floyd advanced tothe veranda, and tipped his hat to the ladies, after which he bowed ary to the farmer. “Tf we mistake not, westand before Cyril Walton- by, do we not?” the lieutenant asked, eying the farmer with an unflinching gaze. ** Yes—I am Cyril Waltonby, sir. can I be to you?” “Of considerable, if you play a fair game, now, where heretofore you have p layed a dishonest one. Do yourecollect this young lady, sir?” ant do not. I don’tthink I ever saw her before, r, be Yes, you saw her when she was but a babe in her mother's arms, for, Cyril Waltonby, she is Mar- keesa’s child, and yey: only legal daughter.” Had a bomb exploded then and there, no more ns- tonishment could have been depicted, than at this strange declaration of the lieutenant. “*My child!” cried the farmer, leaping to his feet, {n evident astonishment—“ my daughter! Impossi- ble, sir! there is some mistake.” “There is no mistake, Cyril Waitonby—no mistake at alll” Nolie cried, stepping forward, “As Mr. Floyd has said, I am the ra | iter of old Markeesa, your only legitimately wedded wife. Do not try to deny me, for ’tis useless. Even as your minion, Red Lark, let Markeesa escape, sodid he, by lack of vigilant watchers, let me escape too, and I am here to claim my own, I have proofs—certificates of your first marriage, and of my birth.” “Papa! papa! i: this true—can it be true thatI am—" and Ida Waltonby burst into tears and rap in concert with her poor horrified mother. “Oh! bes it must be even so, for the ruffian who called imself Red Lark, was here, and told me to tell you that ‘the cat’s leaped the gate and the dog has chased her into the woods, where she is hiding.’ Oh! papa! papa!” nd the poe young thing wept as if her heart would break. “Tt is all a lie—a damnable plot to ruin me and mine!”’ cried the farmer, furiously. “ Get yougone, you accursed impostors, or I will shoot you ead in your tracks.” “You will do nothing of the kind,” replied Flying Floyd, decisively. ‘* My men already have you cov- ered, and it needs but a word from me to send you into eternity. Idon't wan: to harm you, however, unless you refuse to cive this young lady her rights, Then I shall string you up to one of these trees, as you deserve hanging more than any one I know of.” * Curses on you!” Cyril Waltonby hissed, biting his lips until they bled. ‘‘ What do you want?” “Til tell you what I want,” replied dusky Nolie, in her clear, ringing voices. ‘I want the heavy sum of gold which you stole away from Markeesa, my mother—every cent of which was hers. individually. I want this, and then I will never again molest you, nor your family here.” “T have not the golds I won’t give it to you!” “Then you shall ee yonder tree!” SR you wouldn't hang your own father, “As quickly as I would a horse-thief, when that Of what service father is such a wretch as you!” Nolic replied, “ You are a wretch, Ey of any compassion—a th_r- { ough scoundrel and the associate of scoundrels, aes Why try to deceive me, who kuow you so well?” =. “But I haven’t the money!” “ Where is it, then?” a Perhaps a rope around his neck might jostle his} — memory?” suggested Floyd. 5 “Bah! don’t think you can scare me!” exclaimed ; Waltonby, with a sneer. ‘lam nottobefrightened. Hang me, if you like, but you’) not find the hiding- place of the gold.” “No! we wou't hang you,” Floyd replied, tri- umphantly. ‘We'll take H Sra to a cave in the mountains, and starve the life out of you.” “And not get the gold, either!”’ “Well, we can try the plan, at least. for all—will you yield?” “No! athousand times, no!” the infuriated farmcr cried. ‘It is buried where even the devil himself cannot find it!” f “But a devil has found it!” cried a voice, sh: ill and high-pitched, and at the same moment a wild- eyed, haggard Indian woman emerged from the bushes that fringed the lawn, and stood revealed in the bright moonlight. “Yes, Cyril Waltonby, a devil has found the gold, and here it is!’ And, with a horrible, fiendish laugh, she held aloft the tin box in which was the treasure that had been buried under the roots of the big pine tree! : A wild, grotesque squaw was this woman, with matted hair and tattered garb, and the fires of in- 7 sanity burning in her eyes. And as he gazed at her, Cyril Yalconby turned alternately livid and white, w ‘ile from his lips came the one word: **Markoesal” “Yos, it is Markeesa!’’ replicd the maniac wife— ‘*larkeesa, who hates you worse than the red-man hates snakes. She saw you the otvoer night, an you had not been gone an hour ere she had the gold! Hee, my child, the gold is yours. Markeesa has no — fur_her use for it, for she is going to meet her people ~ in the happy hunting-grounds.” t Hurling the box to the ground at Nolie’s feet, tho frantic squaw quickly drew a pistol, and, before she could be | pba ee sent a bullet crashing through Cyril Waltonby’s brain. Then, pressing the muzzle to her own temple, she fired, and fell a corpse upon the greensward, Thus had Markeesa avenged her wrongs in death, - Onee and y CHAPTER XVIL A FEMININE DUEL—AND CONCLUSION, As the fire began to blaze up brighter and brighter, and to grow hotter and hotter, Deadwood Dick r-alized that he was ina fix, in dead earnest—that ! t nt ing short of a miracle could save him, | } Come! you had better get to praying, ef you — wanter, afore you ascead in a cloud 0’ smoke ter — : ther hot place abovel”’ sareastically suggested Cam- C bre; “ you're bound to fry and sizzle, and by an’ by | you'll make delightful m4sic fer us ter dance by!” a “Willl? Bet a nugget my orchestra won't diffus a single squawk!" Hard Cheek (Deadwood Dick by replied. “Humph! You'll change your tune in the sweet} D by and by.” rd “Will you marry me or die the horrible death th, | *s: is staring you in the face?’ demanded Edith Stone — »* L as she wat hed the crackling fire. ee “T would die fifty such deaths rather than marry ’ in ‘peed Dick replied, with a heroic firmness. **Deat!» as no terrors to me, compared with a life with on ~ like you.” : ¢ ‘ “Then~” - She did not finish the sentence, for at this mom: the crack of a rifle broke the stillness, and Ca Cambre, with a ery of mortal anguish, fell to ground. “Tm killed! I'm killed! he groaned, as. tv G

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iy i SA aaa 4 a a OU a b> he Pa ~ “Some one has come—look out!” fe the dying villain beyond the stake, where two riders were just dashing out of tne timber—one Leone Harris, the wife of Deadwood Dick, and the other a road-agent whom Stone ran _and knelt by his. side. shot me, Ha! there the With his last gasp of ointed she had brought along as guard. As she saw them, Edith Stone uttered a fierce ery, and stood upright, with a revolver clinched in her hand. Leone was upon the spot in a moment, to confront her enemy, while Chasteau, the guard, quickly re- leased Hard Cheek from his bonds and tore him out f the fire. 2 Stand you fiend!” cried the wife of Deadwood Dick, hurling a long, narrow sword at the feet of Edith, and retaining a similar one in her own hand. “Pick up your sword and stand on your guard, for it shall be your life or mine!”” . “Yes, mine or P bsp replied the desperate girl, seizing the hilt of the blade in her grasp. ‘ We are bitter enemies, Leone Harris, and either you or I must die—and it will be you, for I am an expert swordswoman, trained by my father.” F “ And if I cannot master you, I am willing to die!” Leone replied, firmly. ‘‘ You and I cannot live in the same country, and, if I kill you, lam sure that God will forgive me, because I am ridding the earth of a very wicked woman.” : With blazing eyes, and lips compressed, and wilh swords firmly clinched, the two girls—for they were yet but girls—attacked each other with a furious zest. Their play was quick and their strokes powerful, the ringlag of the tempered blades making echoes in the depths of the forest, 2 It was astrange, exciting combat between two in- furiated women—weird in the extreme as viewed un- der the powerful rays of the mid-summer night's moon. Deadwood Dick or Hard Cheek, and the guard, Chasteau, stood at one side and looked on without in- terference, for Dick reposed confidence in Leone's skill to at least save herself from dangerous injury. Parry and thrust and feint and lunge, but neither paca a point, until at last Leone got ina blow upon her adversary’s left arm. Edith followed with a blow at Leone’s neck, which was dexterously dodged and parried. and then came the culminating thrust, which ended the battle, and with a piercing scream, Edith fell back, with the blade run through her heart —dead! —_— “Dead!” pronounced Chasteau, coming forward, and bending over the stricken girl. ‘‘The man, here—her companion, is also dead. My rifle-bullet laid him out in style.” “Dead?” echoed Leone—‘‘dead? Then some of the wrongs of Deadwood Dick are avenged, but T have yet to huvt down bis murderers, before my mis- sion is fulfilled.” “ ‘No need for that, my angel-on-earth.” said Nard Cheek, stepping forward, and clasping Leone in his arms, *‘ for Deadwood Dick is here!” : “What! You—you Dick—my Dick!” the wife ex- claimed, shrinking back, inastonisbment. ‘No!no! it is impossible—it cannot be!” te ‘ Tt is, nevertheless, I in flesh and bones,”’ was Dick's laughing assurance, “But, I thought you dead—that it was your head they had on exhibition in Flood Bar,’’ persisted Leone, between tears and laughs of joy. “‘I have mourned your loss, oh! so bitterly, my dear, dear husband!” * You darling, Ido not doubt it, and I ought to be ashamed of myself for so long deceiving you and the public. The head was one the sharpers had taken somewhere, because of its resemblance t+» me, Un- fortunately—for the men--I greatly resemble many Western men, and this leads to mistakes. You re- Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. member how Gerald Hawk, your brother, suffered 29 lynch-law because of this resemblance. This last case may have been similar. lt struck me at the time of this head’s first Sppearsuce in Flood Bar, to let people believe me dead, and so'I adopted the role of Hard Cheek, which enabled me to be about among my fellow-men with more safety, 1 was genre 4 for you, until the report came that you were wit my band. Since then T have been watching Hawk Harrington, and only to-night 1 sent his spirit flyin to the master who owns it—the Devil, Thus, wit’ his death and the death of Cambre and Edith Stone, erish, I believe, the worst of our personal foes. he pons we stil] have as an enemy—" “And I reckon enemies are after us now, ca tain!” spoke Chasteau excitedly, pointing across the moonlit bluffs, to where a horseman was approach- ing at furious speed. “Yes, something has gone wrong.” Dick replied, going to his horse which was standirg near; but he uickly exclaimed: ‘ By Heaven! the man is Old valanche!”’ “And what means his coming?’ demanded Le- one, See: “How did he know that we were here?” “That we must leave to him to tell. Get to your horses, for it may be sorrething so important that it will be necessary for us to light out immediately.” They accordingly mounted and ranged alongside, leaving the bodies of Cambre and Edith Stone lying where they had fallen, for there was no time to bury them now. Avalanche soon came furiously up, and jerked his high-spirited cayuse back upon its haunches, The animal was white with foam, and a wild steely glit- ter shone in the veteran’s eyes—a grim expression elongated his grotesque little countenance. “What is the matter?’ Deadwood Dick cemanded, enxiously. “Why do you come in such haste?” “ Maiter ? gasped the Annihilator—* haste? Great antiqnated ham-bone that bucked ther larnyx uv old Joner’s godfather! Why, ain’t ye heerd ther news? bi bio aad ye’d slid off on account o’ it.”’ “T do not beth re Ae You speak in riddles, What do you mean?” Dick replied, in greatest won- derment, ‘Are you crazy or drunk?’ “ Neither, Dickey, b’'yee. But thar ain't no time fer superflewus palaver, as I uster tell old Florence Night- ne-gale, when she'd git ter oratin’ ter a bull million or two of Irjuns. Strike spurs and light fer yer stronghold, fer a thousan’ heeled outlaws, callin’ *emselves ‘Turks,’ aire after ye. They've consollydated, an’ fos it inter their infarnal noddles thet ye be Hard Cheek, an’ Hard Cheek be you, wharfore they've tid inter Flood Bar—an’ thar they come, as sure’s thar uster be electricity in ther hoofs uv old Prudence Cordeliar, my mare.” As he ceased speaking, the old scout pointed out toward the moonlit bluffs, beyond which nestled the infant city of Flood Par—but a good, healthy infant, after all, was the lively little mining-strike. A band of perhaps a hundred horsemen were just. coming into view. Deadwood Dick watched them fur a moment, All were rough, Cesperate-looking wretches of the blood and buteher-knife order, and in their lead was Old Roxby, the Deadwood Regulator! They evidently had struck a fresh trail, for they were coming on at op speed, shouting and curs- pret rendering the night hideous with their infernal cries. “What d’ye opine, Dickey. my rosebud?” de- manded Avalanche, watching the expression of the ex-road-agent’s face, as its handsome outlines were revealed in the moonlight. “Well, I think it is high time for us to be getting out!’ Dick replied, with one of his old-time reckless laughs. ‘“‘Come! follow me! We can soon lose ourselves in this timber, and Jet the man-hunters pass. Then we will away to my stronghold, which fancy is pretty securely hidden from ordinary routes of travel.”’ “Yas, we'll foller, you bet yer life,” the Annihila-

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30 tor replied, ‘Great ham-bone thet humiliated old Joner! Never see’d a feller I'd ruther foller than re, Dick, my Posey. Once knew’d a gal in Yankton, Laweonieved who war so ’andsome thet ther power uv her beauty ’d make ye trot right along behind as docile as a lamb. Hername war Mehetible Swiggle- swister, and she claimed to be a hundred and third cuzzin ter Abraham Lincoln.” Dick perceived that the Turks, as Avalanche had called them, had evidently not discovered the where- abouts of their prey; accordingly, he led the way into the timber, and Baloped fearlessly down the forest aisles, which were lit by zigzag streaks of moonlight, Leone and Chasteau following in single file, and Avalanche bringing up the rear. Being familiar with the “lay-out” of the timber, Dick.in a short time had safely eluded the Regu- lators, and then they all started for the village of the road-agents. On the way, Leone related all t»rough which she had passed since the night of death down at Del Norte. When she had been left lying upon the river shore with a fiery death staring her in the face, and old Avalanche did not return (as related in No. 49), she had rolled into the water and floated down- streim, her clothing kesping her up. Later, she had been captured by Hawk Harrington, whose prisoner she had been ever since until the burning of the Black Cabin upon the bar, when, bewildered and nearly demented with her long captivity, she had fl d into the mountains, and, later, found protection in Deadwood Dick's own village. Arrived at Deadwood Dick’s village, they found all quiet and serene, Lieutenant Floyd had returned with Nolie Walton- by, from the visit to the Musquekang valley farm- tiouse, where the dusky beauty had regained Mar- keasa’s stolen wealth, And it was but a natural cons: all the perils and adventures they had passed through, Nolie should give ber heart, hand and for- tune to the handsome lieutenant, who pleaded long and earnestly for a place in her affection. So there was a rousing wedding at Deadwood Dick’s village, and Miaco was brought over from Flood Bar with his old fiddle to furnish the music for dancing. Jim Belmont and Squirrel Sam and his sister were also present, and a joyous event was the celebration of the nuptials. There were girls from the Bar, and ex-road-agents without number, and stoga boots and delicate pink mipnere united in the Cotillion, the Lanciers, the good old Virginia Reel and the * break-down." uence, that after There is little more to add to make this story com- ete, It turned out that the Turks were not after Dead- wood Dick at all, but in quest of aban’ cf mountain horse-thieves. So that no more molestation bas been offered the Trump Card of our narrative, in his secluded valley home. where he resides with his wife, and surrounded by men who have sworn to serve under his flag until the end. It was in one of Dick’s explanatory moods that he admitted the identity of himself with Elijah Swain, the Historian and Coroner. Truly, Deadwood Dick has in the past been a man of many faces and many disguises! Fe Floyd yet remains with Deadwood Dick, a stanch brother and lieutenant, and in his married existence inay he find unalloyed happiness! Squirrel Sam and his sister, soon after the wed- ding, left for the Colorado mines, Aad not seldom dv Dick and Leone, reunited in a bappy home, receive visits from their warm old mie and advocate—Old Avalanche, the Annihila- eines fee a Se Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. Half-Dime Singer's Library 1 Wxoa, Ena! and 59 other Songs. 4 2 Caprarin Curr and 57 other Songs, 3 THe Garnssoro’ Har and 62 other Songs. “4 Jounny Moraan and 60 other Songs. 5 [un Strike You Wirn A FratTHer and 62 others, 6 GrorcEe THe CHARMER and 56 other Songs, 7 Tue Bertie or Rockaway and 52 other Songs. 8 Youne Fettan, You're Too FresH and 60 others 9 Say Youne Giri and 65 other Songs. 10 I’'« THe Governor's ONty Son and 58 other Songs, 11 My Faw and 65 other Songs. 12 Comm’ Toro’ Tux Rye and 55 other Songs. 13 Tae Rotirceine IntsHman and 59 other Songs, 14 Op Doe Tray and 62 other Songs, 15 Waoa, Cuartiz and 59 other Songs, 16 In rH1s Wueat By anv By and 62 otner Songs, 17 Nancy Lee and 58 other Songs. 18 1’™ THE Boy THAT’s Bounp To BLAze and 57 others, 19 Tae Two OrpHans and 59 other Songs. 20 WHAT ARE THE WiLp WAVES SayInG, SISTER? and 59 other Songs, 21 Inpiananr Potty Woe and 59 other Songs. 22 Tae Otp Arm-Cam and 58 other Songs. 28 On Conry Istanp Beacu and 58 other Songs, 24 Otp Smmon, THE Hot-Corn Man and 60 others, 25 I’m rn Love and 56 other Songs. 26 PARADE or THE Guarps and 56 other Songs. 27 Yo, Heave, Ho! and 60 other Songs. 28 "Twin NEVER po To Gis ir up So and 60 others, 29 Buve Bonnets Over THE Borper and 54 others, 20 Tae Merry Lavanine Man and 56 other Songs, 81 Sweer Forcet-me-Nor and 55 other Songs, 82 Leerie Basy Mrve and 53 other Songs. 83 Du Banso AM DE INSTRUMENT FoR Mz and 53 others, - 34 Tarry and 50 other Songs. : 85 Jusr To PLEASE THE Boys and 52 other Songs. $6 SKATING ON ONE IN THE GuTTER and 52 others 87 Kotorep Kranks and 59 other Songs. 88 Nit Desperanpum and 53 other Songs. 39 Tue Grew I Lerr Benixp Me and 50 other Songs 40 "Tis sur A Lrrrte Fapep Frower and 50 others — 41 Prerry WaILHELMINA and 60 other Songs. 42 Dancrine IN THE Barn and 63 other Songs. © 43 H. M.S. Poxarore, compres, and 17 other Songs. Sold everywhere by Newsdealers, at five cents \ per copy, or sent post-paid, to any address, on Tre. ee ceipt of Sia cents per number, BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, 98 WuuraM StREET, New York,

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| > EVERY gate yo ae rhunter the Boy Scout. By Ol] Coomes. 2 Battate BALL, from Boyhood to Manhood, By Col. Pren- tiss Ingraham. 8 Kit Caraon, King of Guides. By Albert W. Aiken. A Gordon Lille, the Boy-Interpreter of the Pawnees. By Major. H. B. Stoddard. & Bruin Adams, Old Grizzly’s Boy Pard. By Ingraham, Deadwood Dick as aBoy. By Edward L. Wheeler, Wild BIH, the Pistol Prince. By Col. P. Ingraham, The Prairie Ranch, By Joseph £. Badger, Jr. Roving Joe. By A. H. Post. Texas Jack, the Mustang King, By Col, P. Ingraham. Charley Skylark. By Major H. B. Stoddard. Mariposa Marsh, By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. Roving Ben, By Jobin J. Marshall. “ King of the Bush, By J. E. Badger, Jr. b Wide-Awake George. By Edward Willett 6 The Boy Wizard, By Burry Ringgold. 17 Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from Gotham. By Noah Naff. 18 Adrift on the Prairie, and Amateur Hunters on the Buffalo Range. By Ol! Coomes, 19 The Fortune Hunter; or, Roving Joo as Miner, Cowboy, Trapper and Hunter, By A. H 20 Trapper Tom, the Wood Imp. By T. C. Harbaugh. 21 Yellow Hair, the Boy Chicfof the Pawnees, By Col. Prontiss Ingraham, 22 The Snow Trail. By T. C, Harbaugh. 28 Old Grizzly Adams. By Dr. Frank Powell, 24 Woods and Waters. by Saye Frederick Whittaker. 25 A Rolling Stone: Incidents in the Career on Sea and Land of Col. Prentiss Ingraham. By Win, R. Eyster, 26 Red River Rovers. By C. Dunning Clark. 27 Plaza and Plain; or, Wild Adventures of “ Buckskin Sam,”? (Maj. Sam. S. Hall.) By Col. P. Ingraham. 28 The Sword Prince. The Romantic Life of Col. Mon- story. By Capt. Frederick Whitt ker. 29 Snow-Shoe Tom. By T. C. Harbaugh. 80 Paul de Lacy, the French Beast Charmer, By C. Danning Clark. B1 | Nga the Camp Fire. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 82 White Beaver, the Indian Medicine Chief, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 88 The Boy Crusader. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. 84 The Chase of the Great White Stag, and, Camp and Canoe. By C. Dunning Clark. . 85 Old Tar Knuckle and His Boy Chums. By R, Starbuck. 86 The Dashing Dragoon; or, The Story of Gen. George A, Caster, By Capt, Fred, Whittaker. 8? Night-HMawk George. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 88 The Boy Exiles of Siberia. By T. C. Harbaugh. 89 The Young Bear Hunters. By Morris Redwing. AO Smart Sim, the Lad with «a Level Head, By Ed, Willett, Al The Settler’s Son, By Edward is. 42 Walt Merguson's Cruise. By C. Donning Clark, 48 Rifle and Revolver. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. 44 The Lost Boy Whalers. By T. C, Harbaugh. 45 Bronco Billy, the Saddle Prince, By Col, Ingraham. A6 Dick, the Stowaway. By Charles Morris. 4? The Colorado Boys. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 48 The Pampas Hunters. By T. C. Harbangh. 4» The Adventurous Life of Nebraska Charlie. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 50 Jack, Harry and Tom, the Three Champion Brothers, By Capt. Fred, Whittaker. > 51 The Toure Land-Lubber. By C. D. Clark. 52 The Boy Detectives, By T. C. Harbaugh. 58 Honest Harry. By Charles Morris. 54 California Joe. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 55 Tip Tressel, the Floater. By Edward Willett. 56 The Snow Hunters, By Barry de Forrest. 5? Harry Somers, the Sailor Boy Magician. By S. W. Pearce. 58 The Adventurous Life of Captain Jack, the Border Boy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 59 Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. By C. Morris. 60 The Young Trail Hunters, By T. C. Harbaugh. 61 The Tiger Hunters. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 62 Doctor Carver, the “ Evil Spirit” of the Plains, By Col. Prentiss Ing aham. 68 Black Horse Bill. By Roger Starbuck. 64 Young Dick Talbot. By Albert W. Aiken. 65 The Boy Pilot. By Col. Prentjss Ingraham. 66 The Desert Rover. By Charles Morris, Scunn - e 6 baieebadeded ‘pace Pp = = Rg BOYS. pal Lrp Price, Five Cents, RaRyP

-_;— 6? Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger. By Col, Ingraham. 68 Little Rifle. By Captain “ Bruin’? Adama, 69 The Young Nihilist. By Charles Morris, 70 Pony the Cowboy. By Major H. B. Stoddard. 7 Kull Robsart and Mis Bear. By Captain “Bruin” cain. The Ice Elephant. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker, ce Young Moose-Hunters. By W. 1H, Manning. Coral - Fishers. By Roger Starbuck, volver Billy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, e Condor Killers, By ‘Il, ©. Horbavgh, Lud Lionkeels, the Young Tiger Fighter, By Roger Starbuck, eerie BH Vanexrw By Edward Willett, Ready Oct. 10, r. By Captain F, Whittaker, y Roger Star h Little Buck, the Boy Guide. 5 Pony Bob, the Reckless Rider ef the Rockies. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Captain Fly-by-Night. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 5 Captain Ralph, the Young Explorer. By C. D, Clark. Little Dan Rocka. By Morris Redwing. The Menageric Hunters, By Maj. H. Grenville. The Boy Tramps. By J, M, Hoffinan, 89 ’Longshore Lije. By C.D. Clark. 90 Roving Rifle, Custer’s Little Scout. By Harbangh. 91 Oregon Joshy the Wizard Rif. By Roger Starbuck. #2 Hurricane Kit. By A. B. Holt. 98 Jumping Jake, By Bryant Bainbridge, 94 Sam Spence, the Broadhern Boy, By Ed, Willett. 95 Mosxcow to Siberia, By Charles Morris, 96 Fighting Fred. y T. C. Harbaugh. 97 Cruise of the Fly lig ©. Donning Clark. 98 The Boy Vigilantes. hy . B, Stodda d. 99 The White Tigers. By C harles Howard. 100 The Snow-Shoe Trafl. St. George Rathbone. 101 Mariano, the Ottawa Girl, By Edward 5, Ellis, 102 The Plyaway Afloat. By C. Dunning Clark. 108 Pat Mulloney’s Adventures. By C, L. Edwards. 104 The Boy Prospector. By Roger Starbuck, 105 Minonee, the Wood Witch. By Edwin Emerson. 106 The Boy Cruisers, By Edward Willett. 107 The Border Rovers. By J. Milton Hoffman. 108 Alnaka, the Wof-Queen. By Capt. Howard Lincoln. White Man’s Friend. By B.S. Ellis, Plucky Joe, t Boy Avenger. By J. M. Hoffman, The Border Gunmaker. By James L. Bowen, Lett-Handed Pete. By Joseph E, Badger, Jr, The River Rifles. J. FC 4 Alone on the Plains, s Silver Horn, and His Rifle Firedeath. By R, Starbuck, Exploits of Hezekiah Smith. By E. Rodman, The Young Mustangers, By C.D, Clark, Old Traps; cr, the Boy Kivals. By Barry Ringgold, Center Shot, the White Crow. By T. C, Harbaugh. > A Hot Trail, By Charles Morris, 1 Hunter Pard Ben, By Roger Starbuck. The E«xquimaux’ Queen. By G. Waldo Browne, 8 Tim, the Boy Acrobat. By Charles Morris, A Queen Beaate, the Border Girl. By Henry J. Thomas. Tom Tabor, the Boy Fugitive. By Barry Ringgold. Mink Coat, the Death-Shot, By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. The Deer Hunters. By John J. Marshall. Wolt-Cap; or, The Night-Hawks of the Fire-Lands, By Capt. Ch Howard. Silverspur3 or, The Mountain Heroine. By Edward Willett. Ready Oct. 2 180 Keetsen, Queen o: the Plains. By Percy B, St. John. Ready Oct. 9. 181 Wistah, the Child Spy. By George Gleason, Ready Oct. 16, 182 The Island Trapper By Charles Howard. Ready Oct. 23. 188 The Forest Specter. By Edward Willett. Ready Oct. 30. Bendle’s Boy's Library is for sale by all Newsdualers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. 2 > a > = z x = 2 = = Popermenyeyery Teac sS ute Soznta ok kk fh hf ask kk oe tw wmwmwe LAH -_ “ .

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ae) POCKET LIBRARY. DRADRRARARARAAERRARARARRERAN a 4 32 OCTAVO PAGES. PE AES O: fADL Evy PRICE, FIVE CiNTS, 1 Deadwood Dick. By Edward L. Wheeler. 85 The B 7 ' - K ' o oy Minera, By Edw rd S. Ellis. Mane ee By Bafiae Bill : 86 Jack Harkaway in New. York. By Brace- he aan Fannee. By Pe proatics Ingrahste. bridge Hemyng. . ouble Daggers. by Edward L. Wheeler. 87 The Hussar Captain. By Col. Prentiss Ingrah mee ad Balad ia are ay eae 4 . Aiken, oc eneuaee Dick in eadvilte: By E, LaWheeler, The Buffalo Demon. By Edward &. Wheeler, | 90 Tippy, ahs: WPA pe eee petelope Abe, the Boy Guide, By O11 Coomes. 91 Mustang Sam. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By “Texas Jack” | 92 ‘The Ocean Bloodhou By Samuel W. Pearce, Buffalo Ben, Prince of the Piswl. By E. L, Wheeler. | 98 Phil Hardy, the Boss Bo ; in Ralph Roy, the Boy Huccaneer, By C 1. Ingraham. | 94 Dendwood Dick as Detective Nick 0’ the Night. By T. C. Harbangh. 95 Buck Buckram, By Captain J. F. Yellowstone Jack. By Joseph £. Badger, Jr. Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. By &. L. Wheeler, Diamond Dirk. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. $ pi Spee eae of the Prairies By Oll Coomes, regon Sol. y Capt. J. F.C, Adams. 100 N cy = mit, Death-Face, the Detective. By E. L. Wheeler. a Dottie er y; ye S tae eee By Ou cone A aati 102 The Yellow Chiet. By Capt. Mayne Reid. Rosring Ralph Book wood visa. t. George. | 108 Chip, the Girl Sport. By Edward L. Wheeler. Phe Pho ¢ oN y 5 ra L. Wh 104 The Black Schooner. By Roger Starbuck. The 8 a Unt. B ental i ward Le Wwiheeler, 105 Handsome H By Charles Morris. ane nem nba von yes Sa Whittaker. 106 .N x By Jos. E, Badger, Jr. Reattling Rube. By Harry St: George, Ket acacain Kit? by 1-0. Harbaugh, Old Avalanche, the Great Apnihilator. By Wheeler. | 109 The a, By Frank Dumont, eh Gla s-Eye, Great Shot of the Weat. By Capt, Adams. | 110 The Dread Rider. By George W. Browne. HN ego Captain, By Rome ee wh 111 Boss Bob, the King of Bootblacks, By E. L.Wheeter ne acting: By oor Pseaeriek Sunt taken 112 The Helpless Hand. By Capt, Mayne Reid. ; Night = 1e N: "ip By T. C. Hlarbs o> heeler. | 118 Scar-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter, By Ol Coom eh a eet NOS pe ag ta 114 Piney Paul, the Mountain Boy. By'T. C. Harbaugh. Black John, the Road Agent. By J. E. Badger, Jr. | 115 Deadwood Dick’s Double. By F. L. Wheeler Omaha OU, the Masked Terror. By E.L. Wheeler. | 116 Jabez Coffin, Skipper. By Capt. F. Whittaker Bart Benita the rureneer ris Cia a E. Lasalle. | 41% Faney Frank, of Calorado. By Buifalo Bill, ane He tale, Ie eeaE Caskll JAN Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. By Chas, Morris, ‘alo, By George E. Lasalle, 119 Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base. Jim Bludsoe, Jr. By Edward L. W heeler. By Edward L. Wheeler. Ned Hazel, ae =e Trapper. By Capt. Adams. | 120 Gopher Gid, the Boy Trapper. By T. C, Harbangh, Deadl ye the Unknown Scout. “By buffalo Bil. | 121 Harry Armstrong, the Captain of the Club. By 1 1 1 1 J 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 MATRA Deletwlelerind TRAM STH 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Nick files’s Pet. By Cupt. J. F. C. Adams. Bracebrid, femyne k a Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. By E. L, Wheeler. racebridge Hemyng, (Jack Harkawsy.) The Border King. By Oli Coomes. : old Hickory. By Harry St. George. The White Indian. By Capt. J. F.C, Adams, 45 Buckhorn Bill, By Edward L. Wheeler. The Shadow Ship. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, Tho Red Brotherhood. By W, J. Hamilton. Dandy Jack. By T. C. Harbaugh. Hurricane Bill. os Jvuseph E. Badger, Jr. . J. Hamilton. 2 The Hunted Hunter. By E¢ward S. Ellis. Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. By E. L. Wheeler. Judge Lynch, Jr. By T. C. Harbaugh. The Land Pirates. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 2 2 28 24 25 . 26 Blue Blazes. By Frank Dumont, 27 Tony Fox, the Ferret. By Edward L. Wheeler. 25 Will Wildfire’s Racer, By Charles Morris. 29 Eagle Kit, the boy Demon. By Ol] Coomes.” 80 Gold Trigger, the Sport. By T. C, Harbaugh. 1 A Game of Gold. By Edward L. Wheeler. 2 Dainty Lance, the Boy Sport. By J. E. Badger, Jr. Single Hand. xy Wild-tire, the Boss of the Road, By Frank Dumont. Patent-leather Joe. By Philip S. Warne. s The Border Robin Hood. By Buffalo Bill. 8 58 Gold po the Sha: or Santlens’ Ed. L. Wheeler. 2 4 4 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. By C. Morris, Old Zip’s Cabin. ety C. Adams. 185 Deadwood Pick of Deadwood: By Edward ness L. Wheeler. 186 Old Rube, the Hunter. By Capt. Hamilton Holmes. 187 Dandy Rock, the Man from Texas. By G- Waldo rowne. 188 Bob Rockett, the Boy Dodger. By Chas. Morris. 4 189 The Black Giant. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. ‘ 140 Captain Arizona. By Philip 5. Warne. 64 Rosebu b. By Edward L, Wheeler. 141 New York Nell. By Edward L. Wheeler. etnlule doe: nee ah F. Ca Aduiiss 142 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. By Oll Coomes, Ree Dae : By tpn ae 148 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire With Fire. By ward L, Wheeler. Jos. E. Badger,-Jr. Ready Oct. 6, 144 Little Grit, the Wild Rider. By bl. Prentiss Ingraham, Ready Oct. 13. 145 The Tiger of Taos, By Geo. Waldo Browne. Ready Oct. 20. 146 Cortina’s Right Bower. By Frank Dumont, Ready Oct. 27. iy N Nevada. . L, Wheeler, Edward L. Wheeler. gid cnc rn of Nevada." Sy or Issued Every Wednesday. Beadle’s Pocket Library is for sale by all News. dealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six Sen Viper, D hi > a 82 Set apn By Edward S. Ellis. ee 88 Canada Chet, the CounterfeiterjChief. By Wheeler. bd 84 The Dumb Page. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. #. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, .. 98 William Street, New York. ae arere