Beadle's Pocket Library (no. 456) (1892 10 05)

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. 5, 1892, No. 456, = a*¥eur. rivedenta, VOL. XXXVJ. ** QUICK!”” HE CONTINUED’ ‘LIFT HIM BACK INTO THE BOAT. WE WILL TRY TO ESCAPE DOWN THE LAKE—DRAG ALL THE CANOES AFTER US—AND SCUTTLE THEM, AS SOON AS WE GET A GOOD OFFING. THEN THEY WILL HAVE NO MEANS OF PURSUIT.”

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Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. Nick Doyle, THE GOLD-HUNTER. A Tale of Miners’ Life in California, BY P. HAMILTON MYERS. CHAPTER I. A LITTLE EARLY HISTORY. _ FrepErick INNIS was a young lawyer of — street, who flourished amazingly for three years on anticipations, and whose nicely carpeted office during all that period had never once been soiled by the plebeian tread of a client, But Fred was a man who kept his own counsels (which he could well afford to do, as ha had none of other people to keep,) and so he told no one that he was poor, and that he could with difficulty pay his way, for he knew enough of human nature to understand that of all ways to obtain business, showing yourself to be greatly in need of it, is the very worst. He paid his bills, when he did pay them, with an air, and demanded receipts like a man who is ane used to handling that kind of manuscript. bills with an air, too, and always felt himself bound in honor, when he sent a dunning artisan away empty-handed, to console him by a new order for something else in his line. “T have taken the liberty, Mr. Innis, of bring- ing this little bill,” says Mr. Mildman, “‘as I have a sum to make up to-day.” “So have I, Mildman. Singular coincidence, isn’t it? Sorry I haven’t the spelter for you. It was a douced fine coat, too—equal to the best in the city; and, by the way, it’s almost gone now—getting quite seedy. Have you any more of this piece?” : : : “Oh, yes,” says Mildman, with sparkling eyes, “several patterns.” “711 call around and be measured this after- noon, and next month Pll remember you.” And the tailor would depart well pleased, nor was Fred less so, having performed a good ac- tion, as he supposed, for no doubt of ultimate solvency or even affluence ever troubled his mind. When it was to come, or where from, he had no very distinct idea, but opportunity, he doubt- ed not, would offer itself to him, as it did to every man, once at least in his life, and he watched and waited for it. Not idle either, for he had his employments, though they were ‘ rather literary than professional, and not a lit- tle laborious, too, such as the plowman need not envy. It was thus that, like, and yet widely unlike Micawber, he waited for something to turn up. Well, something did turn up. California turned ay (literally, a an part ©f it, under the ade an sine sf and Fred’s quick ear caught the first chink of the golden gravel from that far country. Without thinking twice on the subject, he resolved to go. He had few friends to trouble him with their advice or warning; the loveof adventure was strong within him, and hope was bright and buoyant. ! e put off If Mr. Innis had few friends, however, he had a great many acquaintances, and a great many heads were shaken in derision at his project, ~ “* Better stay at home, and mind his business,” said old Mr. Twiggs, who had been a particular friend of Fred’s father, and was now a very rich man, and the president of a bank, but who had never once raised his finger to assist the strug- gling young lawyer, when it would scarcely ave required more than the raising of a finger on his mee to insure him a prosperous business. “T thought he was more steady. I really had hopes of Fred,” continued Twiggs, who had given two hundred notes, and twenty or thirty mortgages to the fat firm of Plod and Puller to collect within the last year, a tithe of which would have been the setting up of Tunis; ‘ but some men seem to have no stability.” “Then he is so handsome, papa, and has such a fine figure,” said Miss Twiggs. ‘‘It isn’t pos- sible that he means to dig.” “Dig! Why not?” replied Twiggs, sinking into a luxurious velvet-covered rocking-chair, and resting his arms spot its cushioned sides, “Why shouldn't he dig, I should like to know, as well as other people! Iam only afraid that he will find digging of no avail, unless, as is most likely, he takes to canals or railroads.” “Oh, pana, how shocking!” “Not at all. The world must have its ‘ hew- ersof wood and drawers of water,’” said Twiggs, uncorkins 2 bottle of sherry. ‘* But, papa,” continued Kitty, with a very innocent look, ‘‘ have not I heard you say that Mr. Innis’s father was a particular friend of ours?” ; **Certainly—that is to say—yes. What of it?” stammered the banker, a little in doubt whether his daughter’s question had any hidden mean- me On, nothing,” replied Kitty, with another Pee look. sf es,” continued Twiggs, growing loqua- cious, and pleased at having Lg good itener, ‘Mr. Samuel Innis and I were schoolmates, and. intimate from childhood. He was the son of a rich man, I was the sonof a poor man, He died insolvent the very year that I was made President of the Bank of ——, with a thousand shares of stock standing in my own name, be- sides as much more capital in real estate. That is the difference between men. But he wasa clever fellow, Innis was. He helped me to my first good position in business—up the first round of the ladder of fortune. After that I -limbed myself. He was rich, then, Innis was, and it was no trouble to him.” : “ How came he to fail? Was he very extrava- nt?” / “No, but he was too and accommodat- ing. He was in a large business, and it was the old story of indorsement for friends during that black year in commercial history, 1836. Hoe was on the paper of Tom, Dick and Harry, and half a dozen more, who exploded around him like a bundle of fire-crackers in July—a perfect feu-de-joi of failures—he bringing up the rear to the tune of a quarter of a million.” “ Ah, how unfortunate! I wonder he never ‘came to you for help.” : “He did come, twenty times. That just <a A

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lic MS 2 Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. showed how inconsiderate he was. As if I were going to thrust my nose into the trap, just as it was about to be sprung, too. You see it was only a suspension at first, and he said he could get through with twenty thousand, for cash was everything in those days, and worth just ten times what it now is, and he had friends, he said, who could raise half the sum, if he could procure the balance. He was certain that ten thousand from me would save him.” ‘¢Well, did it?” “Why, what a foolish question. He had not a particle of security to offer, excepting his tangled business. Of course I could do nothing for him, though I was very sorry for him,” *¢ How much were you worth then, papa?” “T” said Twiggs, with brightening eyes, and totally obtuse to the drift of his daughter's ques- tions. ‘ Two hundred thousand dollars at least, in the very soundest property, and without a debt in the world.” “¢ How long did Mr. Innis live after this?” “Only a few years. I think he died in 1839, but I am not quite certain of the time, as I rather lost sight of him after his failure, though we had been quite intimate before.” Kitty sighed and remained silent, What her thoughts were can only be guessed from her questions, and from a very ingenuous and sweet expression of countenance, which had grown mournful as she listened to her worldly and sel- fish sire, Kitty knew Fred well. hey had often met at parties, more often than Twiggs knew anything about, and very good friends they. were, too, There was, indeed, some- thing very much like love between them, if Tt was not the genuine article, but neither sus- pected any such sentiment in the other, nor would Kitty have even allowed it to herself, There was sincere admiration on both sides, which was unavoidable, as each possessed good taste, and the qualities that gratify it, but Kitty, in her simplicity, did not think herself worthy of sucha noble fellow as Fred, nor i ah of inspiring affection in his heart. As to Fred, he scorned all appearance of mercenary views on matrimony, and old Twiggs scurned all appear- ance of poverty in a suitor for his daughter, and between these two scornings Kitty might as well have been locked up in an enchanted castle, and Fred have been an enchanted horseman on the gateway arch, so far apart were they, and so inaccessible to each other. Innis was therefore not a wooer of the banker’s daughter. He had never suffered his mind to dwell upon ber with matrimonial hopes, and it was with no perceptible pang that he prepared to separate himself so widely from her with the full expectation, if he thought at all on the sub- ject, that when next he saw her, it would be as he bride of some one of her wealthy admirers. CHAPTER II. AN UNEXPECTED OBSTACLE. Innis did not find going to California quite the easy matter that he anticipated. He met with a singular and formidable obstacle at the very starting point of his journey. There was a judgment standing against him, for no debt. __ or proper liability of bi 1 im, is OWN, an unjust claim which he had resolved never voluntarily to dis- charge, unless the time should come when it would be more easy to pay than to resist it, But his wily creditor, or rather a pettifo; Being attorney, who had charge of the Poiait a watched his opportunity, and had contrived to attach poor Fred’s baggage, and even his pas- sage ticket, which was unfortunately in one of his trunks, the very day before that of his in- tended departure, Never did blow fall more heavily and unex- pectedly upon a young aspirant for fortune than this. For the first time in his life he felt that he was poor. He had not a hundred dol- lars in his pocket. All else was invested ina few well-chosen articles for the California market, which would have been sure to quad- ruple their cost there, and which filled his largest trunk, Here, they would barely suffice, with the passage ticket included, to pay the execution of Mr, Attorney Swipes. “Tt’s all up,” said Fred, to a young friend who had called to bid him good-by, ‘ this con- founded levy knocks my project quite in the head, and, at the same time, renders it the more necessary that I should go. I have nothing in the world left, Whitman, excepting these traps and my California bopes.” ‘* Cannot the claim be disputed?” “No, it is a legal one, although without a shade of equity. I did all I could to contest it before judgment, and then resolved never to pay it until I could do so without incommodin myself. It has slumbered a long while, as all my small means were in money, and consequent- ly beyond the reach of an execution, and | had quite forgotten there was such a debt. Swipes mast have been watching me like a cat.” “It’s hard, certainly. I wish I could hel you, Fred, but you know how it is with me. might raise a hundred for you—” “You are very kind, Charley, but I could not take it, you know, with no certainty of ever be- ing able to pay you again. Besides, the claim is five hundred, and it is quite impossible for me to raise it. Let them sell, and then I shall at least know that the worst has come.” _, Whitman left his friend somewhat abruptly, with bis head full of a project of bis own, for he was an ardent and enthusiastic youth, with but little knowledge of the world. He knew the rich Twiges, and had heard from Innis that his father bad started the banker in life, and the inference to such a mind as Whitman’s was un- avoidable, that the old gentleman would fly, urse in hand, to the rescue of the son of his nefactor. He was. mistaken, of course, and shocked besides, for he was met by the very coldest rebuff. Whitman urged, “It is only a loan, and it is so imporant to him; all his prospects in life are at stake, sir—and he will be very sure to pay you, I think.” “You think! Perhaps you would indorse for him?” said Twiggs, sneeringly. ‘Oh, with pleasure,” replied itman. * Are you a merchant, and if so, of whom shall [ inquire of your commercial standing” ‘Tam a law student.” '“ Oh, indeed; that will do then.” “Will it?’ said Whitman, eagerly, / being

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4 quite deceived by the phrase, and the tone in which it was spoken. “‘T mean that I can do nothing for you, and you must excuse me now, as I have other busi- ness to attend to; but first, let me ask you whether Mr, Innis sent you on this errand?” ‘“By no means. He knows nothing of my ap- plication, I assure you.” That is all, sir.” Whitman went out in a white heat of »wrath, and lett the banker scarcely less incensed. Twiggs’s anger was the’ fiercer, because it was hot. unmixed with some upbraidings of con- science, which he tried to stifie and divert his mind from, by blaming Innisand Whitman, and the whole tribe of vagabonds, as he usually styled all poor people. He had a supreme con- tempt for every person who could not “‘ make money.” He scorned them. He had succeeded. It had been easy for him. Why not they ? No- body need tell him, he said. They did not try, or what was the same thing, they did not try in the right way. Such was the banker’s language at home that evening, as he paced his Turkey carpet in em- broidered slippers, and talked to his wife and Kitty. He had told them of Fred’s misfortune, and of Whitman’s application, and had trium- phantly justifiel himself, as he supposed, in their estimation, But he was mistaken. His wife, injeed, who was a fat, quiet, casy, aristo- cratic old lady, scarcely troubled herself to think at allon the subject. But Kitty’s little heart throbbed with indignation. She had often been obliged to blush at her father’s character, even as painted by himself, and had felt it difficult to retain a dutiful affection for him. But now hor emotions of mortification and anger were over- powering, and she hastened to her own room, where she gave way, in soliloquy, to her feel- ings: “ Only five hundred dollars,” she said, ‘‘ and he refuses it to the son of his greatest benefac- tor, and when he is in distress, too. How paltry! how wickel, and how I longed to tell him so. Poor Fred!” Kitty thought of appealing to her fathor in the youug lawyer's behalf, but she felt certain that it would be unavailing, besides which, a maidenly delicacy of feoling utterly forbade that she should say or do aught which might imply a partiality for Mr. Innis. Indeed she did not think she had any such partiality. “Such a trifle!” she continued, opening a box of jewelry. “Why these gewgaws cost thrice the sum that would make a worthy man happy, and perhaps prosperous. A man, too, of educa- tion and talent.” She gazed long and thoughtfully ure which was her grandmother’s exclusively her own property. “T have a right to do what I will with these,” she said, ‘and if it could only be done without his knowledge—” Again Kitty looked long and earnestly into the jewel-box. ‘lhen she rose, and wrapped it the treas- t, and was carefully in her handkerchief, put on shawl] and bonnet, and calling a young brother to accom- pany her, she went forth, with excited air and hurried step, as if she had made up her mind to some desperate act, and was afraid her resolu- A Niek Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. tion would fail before- she had accomplished it, She went to the house of a lawyer in the next street, an old and very worthy gentleman, who was a particular friend of her father’s family, and with whom she had Jong been on intimate terms. Parting with her brother at the door, she in- quired for Mr. Earl, and had the good fortune to find the parlor deserted, and in a few minutes to hear the creaking shoes of her old friend, as he came out of his library. She nearly fainted at the sound, for she was wrought up to a high pitch of neryous excitement, but the mild, he sal voice of her friend partly re-assured ner. “Why, Kitty,” said the old gentleman, offer- ing his hand, ‘‘ are you all alone? All our young folks are at the opera this evening.” “Oh, how glad I am. I only want to see you,” said Kitty, dashing out the word at a breath. ‘Ah, something is the matter,” said Mr. Earl, who was a close observer, ‘‘ something is amiss here; tell me what I can do for you.” * Promise me the strictest secrecy.” “ Certainly, my dear.” “Aud that you will not even try to learn, much less divulge, my reasons for the request [ am about to make of you.” “T promise everything to my Kitty,” said the old man, playfully. “‘ Surely you are notafraid to trust me.” The young lady hastily opened her handker- chief, and placing the box of jewels in the old gentleman’s hands, said: “Tn some way, by some means—I know not - how—I only know such things are done—raise for me five hundred dollars on this pledge, and place it in the hands of Mr. Seth Whitman, law student in the office of Mr. ——, before ten o’clock to-morrow morning.” “T will advance it myself; don’t tremble so, my child; there is nothing difficult in all this,” “Oh, thank you, thank you!” exclaimed Kit- ty, with the tears now running unrestrained down her cheeks, “T do not ask your reasons—some friend, I suppose, in distress, but as I am to act profes- sionally in this matter, you must allow me to ask a question or two.” ““No—no, ask nothing,” said Kitty, rising in alarm, and taking hold of the door-knob. “Don’t be frightened, birdie,” said the old gentleman, laughing, ‘f was only going toask whether this money is to be given to Mr. Whit- man without any message of any kind.” “Oh, certainly, he must not have the least hint as to where it comes from. He will know what to do with it.” “‘ Doubtless. You may let him alone for that. But am I not even to ask a receipt?” ** By no means.” “Only just fling the money in his face, and come away?” “Yes,” said Kitty, laughing. “ Very well, now, I know what I have to de, and you may depend on it being done before ten o'clock to-morrow morning.” i Miss Twiggs heartily thanked the lawyer, and bade him goodnight. Mr, Earl had no difficulty in performing his

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Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. romise. He knew the lawyer named by Miss wiggs, as the one in whose office Mr, Whitman studied, and at ten o’clock the next morning he called there, check in hand. Whitman was at his desk, alone, drumming with his fingers a dismal tattoo, and looking very sober. “Ts this Mr. Seth Whitman?” asked Mr. Earl, advancing politely. “That is my name,” answered Seth. “This, then, is for you,” said Earl, presenting a check, Whitman took it, glanced at it, and leaped from his stool with a hurrah, “Then old Twiggs has relented,” he said; ‘ I beg his pardon—the right honorable Mr. Twiggs, Imean. This came from him, of course, Sit down, sir—thank you, sir—this will be the mak- ing of Fred—please to take a chair while I draw a note; it’s just exactly in time—the ship sails at twelve, and he can go yet—oh, this is cap- ita]; how shall I draw the note, sir?” Seth had rattled all this off with such incon- ceivable velocity that Mr, Earl had no time to utter a word. As soon as a pause did oceur, he barely said ‘‘ good-morning,” and walked off, utterly deaf to a whole string of exclamations and interrogations which Seth rattled after him, Whitman next went in pursuit of his friend, whom he found negotiating with Swipes, and a third party, a candidate for California, for the disposal of the seized passage-ticket, which it was his interest to turn into money in order to reduce the debt, and which would be valueless after twelve o’clock. Too sad to chaffer, Fred was just about consenting to let it go at half- pa to the bargainer, who was a shrewd Yan- ee, when Seth made his appearance. : “ Hold on, there,” he said; ‘‘ we are all right here, after all. How much is this levy for,.Mr. Swipes?” “Four hundred and eighty-seven dollars, sixty-two and a half cents,” ‘Well, I have here a certified check for five hundred; so please get ready the change, and trunks.” “A check, Whitman? Impossible! Whose, and by what means obtained?” said Innis, “That is more than J can tell; I thought it was old Twiggs at first, but ‘tis neither in his name nor on his bank,” replied Seth, drawing his friend aside. and recounting to him the mys- terious manner in which the paper was placed in his hands. The signature was strange to them both, and might as well have been an Egyptian hiero- glyphic, for any syllable they could make out of it; but the certification of the cashier of the bank upon which it was drawn rendered it as good as gold. “What possible reason had you to think it came from that old miserly Twiggs?’ asked Innis, who knew nothing of Seth’s application to him, and would haye been very angry if he had known it. “ Well, I eel it possible.” _ “Did not T tell you how he turned his back 4 upon my father in his greatest need, although ~ under the weightiest obligations to him—when » by risking, and only slightly risking, a twentieth part of his own property, he might have saved, as was clearly shown afterward, an estate of half a million to my father, and his life, too.” Fred spoke fiercely and rapidly. “'Yes—yes, you have told me all—frequently,” replied Seth. “But this money, Seth; how do you know it was intended for me at all, if nothing was said about me by the bearer?” ‘Oh, it?s for you; I am sure of that. You see, if is just the sum you wanted, and every- body knows how intimate we are—and—and I am sure it is for you, Innis; and there is no time to be lost, either, in rendering it available. It is now half-past ten.” “But I really think this money may have been intended as a present for you, Seth.” “Not it; nobody ever gave me a dollar in the world, and it is not very likely they would do it at this juncture of affairs. I say the money is yours, and if it turns out otherwise, we will call it a California investment of mine to be repaid with a bonus, when you have made your fortune out there, which I am positive you will do.” “T have astrong presentiment of that kind myself, without jesting, and I will take the money if youinsist on it, dnd will still go by this very ship. Tf I succeed, Seth, you shall not repent your kindness.” ‘Neither shall I repent it, if you do not suc- ceed, Fred—so make yourself easy on that score, CHAPTER IIT. A GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY. FRED went to California. The deep significance of the last four words will be understood by those who have journeyed to that land, in the early period of emigration thither before any systematic or uniform mode of travel was established. He went to Chagres, in a vessel crowded to suffocation; he spent five days in crossing the Isthmus in rain and mud and fog, and arrived at Panama, in company with hundreds of others, worn, weary and fast- ing, to find that town already overflowing with tired expectants of a never-coming ship, which was to take them off, A few days after his arrival, he fell into com- els with a tall, limber Vermonter, who. said ewasa Green Mountain Boy, and whose ap- pearance indicated that the adjective was as justly due to himself as to his native hills. Jotham Wakely, as he called himself, was about twenty-six years of age, with a thin face and sharp features, which would have been quite in- ere but for a remarkably bright pair of eyes, which were perpetually moving and flash- ing, and seemed to permit nothing to escape their observation, Wakely’s boarding-house was near that of Innis, and they frequently met and engaged in conversation, so often indeed, that Frederick thought their interviews were not always ac- cidental, and that the Vermonter had some de- sign in cultivating his acquaintance. “Wal,” said Jotham, one morning on meet- ing his new friend; ‘it is pretty tough work, this, to be kept here waiting for a ship til

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6, Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. $$$, one’s money is spent, and you can’t go when it dss come, and can’t go home neither; that’s pretty hard, isn’t it!” “Tt is indeed. I hope that is not your case.” “But it is though, and it’s the same with hundreds of others; that’s what kills so many. sir—they talk about the Panama fever; it’s all nonsense, it’s the fever of anxiety and suspense. Pve had it; it heats the blood a’most to the piling p’int--and makes you feel as if you had a hot Vidisbeare pudding in your head in- stead of brains, and then you get delirious of course, and there ain’t nobody to do nothing for you, and if you ain’t remarkably good pluck, you die,” “Then you are pretty good pluck, I sup- pose?” “ Rather,” said Jotham, soberly ; “‘ but I’m low- spirited to-day—for they say there will cer- tainly be a steamer here, to take us off with- in three days, and I’m out of money, I haven’t five dollars left, and they won’t take me, of course.” si. Is it possible? I am really very sorry for ou,” “That's what fifty people have told me,” said Jotham, “‘and most of them said they were nearly as badly off themselves, thoy had all been here so lon; but you have just come, as it were, only last week, and must be flush, and now I’ve something to propose to ” Well what is it!” “Tm going to propose a partnership between us two, you and I.” j Fred looked inquiringly at his companion, “A partnership?” “Yes, a partnership.” “ But you say you have nothing.” “T have an idee,” replied the Yankeo, em- phatically, ‘‘ and—and—” “You propose to divide it with me,” asked Innis, laughingly. “Ves,” continued the other, eagerly, and with a fire glowing in his eyes which might have been the light of genius—or insanity: ‘t yes—on con- dition that you pay my passage to San Fran- cisco. It isn’t everybody that I would make such an offer to: but I like your looks, and am willing to help you to make your fortune, I can as well do it as not—for I don’t see any possible use that I can haye for a quarter of the gold T am going to get.” * Ah, indeed?” Yes, sir, and a lucky fellow you are tio have met me. I’ve been trying to make up. my mind to make this Peed to you several days, but I could not conclude to do so until I heard this morning about this ship that was a-comin’ so soon, and that decided me, 1 would rather give half than wait here any longer, and run the risk of dying.” “ Half of what?” “Of my idee, sir, of my idee—it’s worth a ton 7 of gold,” I. aoe is nof near as difficult to carry, I sup- jose?” “Come this way,” continued Jotham, not no- ticing the sneering remark of his companion, and leading the way to his room—a very small apartment, which was quite filled by a single bedstead, two trunks and a large box, and might be called crowded when its tenant was in. As to Fred, he was decidedly a supernumerary, and was obliged to step up on one of the trunks in order to get in. “Shut the door—if—if—you ean,” said Jotham, hesitatingly, he having led the way, and being in advance of his proposed partner. Innis com- plied. ‘“‘ Now, do you see that box at the foot of the bed? It’s in there.” ‘“What! your idea?” asked Fred, who began now to think his companion was really mad, “Yes; but before! let you see it, you are to promise me on your honor that you will take no advantage of it, unless you accede tomy terms.” “Most certainly; I promise.” “Wal,” said Jotham, striding over the trunks toward his treasure, ‘I ain’t afraid but what you’llagree fast enough, and a lucky thing it is for you, too—but first,” said he, seating himself on the box, his long legs dangling against its sides—“ first, let me tell you how [came to think about it. When I first came here, about two months ago, there were two Hampshire men here, who had just come from Cahfornia, where they were living when the gold was first discov- ered, and long before we heard anything about it in the States; they had picked it up off the ground like gravel stones, and in three months they had such big piles that they started home with it for fear they would get robbed, and then they were coming back again, but they sart’in] hadn’t less than seventy or eighty thousand doh lars’ worth apiece. ell, sir, one of these fel- Jows was a very sensible chap, and he talked a great deal about California, and Tlistened. I asked some questions, too—a few, you know,” “ Very probable.” “Hoe said the surface gold was pretty much all picked up, or would be before I could get there, but there was lots of it into the rocks, if it could only be got out; but it cost more than it come to, he said, for you to hammer all day on a few pounds of rock before you could get it to pieces, and get the gold out of it, and then it wouldn’t be more than half an ounce, But it was there, he said, millions upon millions, and there wasn’t any end to it. 6 told me of one place where there were rocks enough to build a city, and all sparkling with very fine gold dust.” “oe “But it wasn’t any use, he said again, ‘cause it cost more than it was worth to get it out. This was very aggravating, but it set me to thinking, and then it was I got my idee. The next morning I went to Mr. Smith—that was his name—and said, said I: ‘ Have you got any speciments of them gold rocks? and he said he’ had, and he took a piece out of his trunk, weigh- ing about eight pounds, and showed it to me, T shouldn’t have known there was any gold in it, for the particles were so fine you scarcely see them without a microscope, and most people would never notice them at all, or would judge, like Mr. Smith, that it was quite preposterous to think of making anything by getting them out,” “Well, what did you do?” : “T bought it of him, and then went to think- ing again, and then, sir—then T invented a ma-— chine, sir, that will munch up these rocks as

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Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. 4 ve easily as you would eat apples, sir. That’s what I did, sir!” ‘* Ts it possible?” said Innis, beginning to be in- terested. ' “Yes, sir!” said Jotham, jumping down from the box. weep now, perhaps, you would like to see it eat? “Most certainly, if it is feeding time,” said Tnnis. eed ie Oh, it’s always as hungry as a Vermont schoolmaster. It's only a small one, this is, but 1 have the castings making for a much larger machine.” “ But how can you get themhere?” “Tt has been very difficult; but there is a kind of foundry here where they make small castings for plows, etc., and where, by doing half the work myself, I managed to get them done. Of course, made all the patterns myself, and I had but one piece cast at a time, and took that away, and the pen too, before making the next piece, so that they should not suspect what I was about.” “A yew, discreet plan.” “But I could not raise money to get the set of large castings out of their hands, though there is only twenty dollars due on them, Think of that, sir! Just think of that! Won’t that be something to laugh at when I am a million- aire?” “Yes, indeed.” ‘ Well, sir, now I'll set this little fellow in mo- tion, just for your satisfaction, but remember that yours will be the first eyes, excepting mine, that have ever seen it go. But first, just step across the street, where you see that little ledge of granite rocks, and pick up a few of the pieces that you will fiad lying around, Don’t bring any Jarger than your hat, for this isonly a small machine—not much more than a model.” Tnnis complied unhesitatingly with this re- quest, and soon returned with a piece of solid Franite, of nearly the dimensions to which he ad been limited, As he re-entered, he heard a great clanking and clattering of iron and steel, and he stopped, astonished at the sight which met his eyes. Jotham, in his shirt sleeves, was at the side of the now open box, turning a crank which he had ‘‘ shipped” in its place during his absence, and setting in motion a strong, pon- derous and complicated machinery of wheels, levers and hammers, which banged, rattled, creaked and screamed at a most terrific rate, and seemed to threaten instant demolition to anything which came within its iron grasp. ‘ Throw it in! Throw it in!” he shouted, with suffused face and sparkling eyes, as he plied the crank more vigorously. ‘‘ Jest drop it right in there where you see them steel teeth and ham- mers—throw it in! Take care—don’t go too near!” ; : Fred dropped the stone in the required i ese and immediately heard one loud crash, and then a multitude of smaller cracklings. “T told you so!” shouted Jotham, still pursu- ing his task. ‘‘1 told you so! Didn’t she do it nice? Didn’t she munch it up‘ like old cheese? Throw in another, quick! Another! Don’t you hear her calling for more?” and he worked away at the crank more earnestly than ever, / é t ‘‘¥ did not bring any more,” replied Freder- ick, ‘‘‘ Stop, and let us see what has become of the stone. If it is pulverized, the proof is al- ready as perfect as you can make it.” “ Pulverized! Hf oa can find a piece as big asa pin’s-head, sir, Pll give you the machine, know. Look!’ Jotham took up a portion of the material of the late stone converted into powder, and show- ed it to his companion, “You might eat it, sir, with a little seasoning. There ain’t any finer dust in the highway.” Innis examined it with great astonishment, “ Now, ef that had been the golden granite of Callyforny,” continued Jotham, ‘‘all we should have to do would be to separate the gold in the same way as they do from other dirt, and there it is, sir! How much in a week? a month? How much ina year? I don’t ask but just one year, sir, and if we don’t make over one million of dollars apiece, then, sir, we are spoonies, What say ge now to the partnership? ‘T agree to it.” ‘“‘T knew you would,” said the other, without manifesting the least surprise. “But what security am I to have that you will perform your part of the contract?” “You ma keep the ‘ Crusher.” “That will do,’ “You see, I ain't afraid to trust you. But, then, I shall have the other and the larger one, after you have paid for it.” “ Certainly.” ‘* We shall have no difficulty with each other I am convineed, J have confidence in you, and you ought to have in me, after this great mark of my regard for you.” All this was said with the air of a man who was conferring a favor, not receiving one, “*T have,” replied Innis, ‘*Tt’s a bargain, then?” 6 Wigs? And thus was this strange compact conclud- ed, without writing or memorandum of an kind, but with a perfect simplicity and truthful- ness on each side, which entirely obviated the necessity of any such formula, ; Innis had barely enough money left to enable him to fulfill his bargain, but he relied on obtain- ing more at San Francisco, from the sale of a few choice articles of merchandise, which as has been said, he had brought with him. He advanced the means necessary to release the captive castings, which, on his suggestion were not framed and made ready for use, bu’ were packed in separate parcels, and the smaller machine was taking apart and similarly dis- ties of. Thus they would be subject to a ighter charge as freight, and would admit of more easy transportation from San Francisco into the interior of the country. CHAPTER IV. AT SAN FRANCISCO, To the great delight of the expectant crowd at Panama, the steamship came within the ap- pointed time, but she did not prove to be of suf- ficient capacity even to take all who were will- ing to pay the most exorbitant fares for the most limited accommodations. / But Frederick having a ‘ through ticket” for tae

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himself, found it easy, by an early application, to secure a steerage berth for his friend, who did not ask for any better place, and who said he would rather swing. his hammock under the bowsprit, than to wait any longer for a. pas- sage. Their voyage was a quick one, and unmark- ed by any more striking incidents than the many ludicrous annoyances resulting from crowding fifteen hundred people into a space calculated to accommodate less than two-thirds of that number. Jotham, however, did not allow his time to pass unimproved. Though a steerage passen- ger, he was to be found in pretty much every part of the ship, conversing with everybody. He said nothing about the ‘‘ Crushers,” but he heard a great deal about other matters con- nected with the general object of the voyage, and among other things he encountered another shrewd Yankee, almost a counterpartof himself, who had invented a new “Lifter, Separator, and Precipitator,” as he grandiloquently styled a little, insignificant-looking machine, for separ- ating gold from its kindred dust. He had many of these articles for sale, each being pasted over with printed certificates. from many unknown generals, judges and clergymen that they were altogether porfect, and sure to capture the finest particles of the precious metal not allowing the very aura to escape. “It precipitates the hull,” said the vendor, “even that which is tew small for gravitation to act on, and which would float in the air like motes in a sunbeam—it precipitates the hull.” Jotham’s eyes sparkled when he saw the machine, and heard the boasts of its inventor. “Tf it is half what he tells,” he said, aside * to Fred, ‘‘ it is beyond all value to us.” So he began to decry the invention vociferously, insomuch that one might naturally have sup- posed that he had not the remotest design of be- coming a purchaser. But the other party un- derstood him better, and a scene of bantering - ensued for about half an hour, well worth these two representatives of Yankeedom. . It resulted in Jotham beating down. the peep of one of the machines, something like fifty per cent. below what the other had at first stated to be its actual cost, and then obtained the privi- lege of making a trial of it before paying for it —to all of which the vendor consented. The Vermonter had in his possession a small quantity of gold-dust, the proceeds of tbe trag- ments of golden granite which he had bought and crushed at Panama, and which he had im- perfectly separated by some rude process. This, after first carefully weighing it, he mixed thor- oughly with several quarts of scrubbing sand, which he obtained from one of the stewards of the vessel, and then, with Innis, he retired to the state-room of the latter, to make a private experiment with the “ Precipitator.” The re- sult was a most astonishing confirmation of all that had been claimed in behalf of the machine. Jotham recovered his gold from the myriad grains of baser dust almost to the last precious atom; and both he and Frederick were fully con- vinced of the great value of the invention, and ‘accordingly purchased two of the machines, Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. In due time the voyagers arrived at their de- ea port, and entered the gate of the golden anc Enshusiasm is always infectious, and Innis had by this time become nearly as sanguine as his Eastern friend in regard to their joint pros- pects. His first day in San Francisco was mt in seeking a market for his fancy wares, which he speedily disposed of at a profit equal to his best expectations. This at once gave him ample funds for all im- mediate wants, and for expenses of traveling and transportation of necessary freight to any jp of the mining region which he might calcu- ate to seek. They spent a few days in the capi- tal, which they employed chiefly in obtaining information in regard to the mines—and Fred- erick found, to his great satisfaction, that while very many bore testimony to the abundance and richness of the quartz rocks in certain specified locations, all concurred in speaking of the labor bestowed upon them as unremunerative; and vory few sought the places where they most abounded. ““ Wo are like to have very few competitors,” he said to the Yankee. “The fewer the better. We don’t want no competitors, nor no spectators. But here is a list of the things we do want,” said Jotham, who made uo hesitation in calling freely upon his companion for any outlays which he thought requisite for their object. “What are they?” ‘“‘A barrel of sea-biscuits, six kegs of gun- powder, two kegs of rum, two rifles, two revol- vers, two bowie-knives, lead, bullet-molds, &c,, &c.” ‘Why, Jotham, you must intend to open a store.” “No, sir; we shall want all this, and as to so large a quantity of powder, we may have some blasting to do, though I think not much.” ‘* And are we to live on sea-biscuits?” ‘“ With the game and fish which we can obtain there, and very good living it will be, too.” “ And how are all these things to be trans- ported?” ““Two good mules and a smallish wagon will do it—slowly.” ‘But it will take my last dollar.” “What of that? Let it.” “How far shall we probably have to go?” _ “Not near as far as you may imagine. I have heard of a place in a wild spot, not eighty miles from here, exactly suited to our purpose. and where we shall be as quiet and unmolested as a frog under a flag-stone. But we will start from here in quite another direction, for I am determined nobody shall know which way we x0. To you feel confident that our two crushers are large enough for valuable service?” “A plenty, sir, for two individuals. They are | all that we can feed, anyway, and that ought to satisfy us; and if we find the quarter such as it is represented, near the Bottomless Sound, I saleuiete we can bag about fifty ounces a day. “Fifty ounces? Impossible!” “Not at all—rather over than under that ss

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Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. 9 mark, I think, but we must take with us mate- rials enough for a small water-wheel.” “ And can you make the wheel when we get there?” “Let me alone for that; I can make anything that I have ever seen, ef I only have the things to do it with.” “ And some things that you have not seen, if we may judge by the ‘ Crusher,’” replied Innis, laughing. ae It will be borne in mind that at the time now spoken of, the sida mining system .was as yet unknown in California, and undreamed of, ex- cepting by our Vermont adventurer. No pon- perous machines, of ten tons digestive power, had yet been constructed to grind the aurifer- ous rocks for the benefit of the hundreds of members of an incorporated company, who, re- maining quietly at home, pocketed the golden returns, without well knowing where California was, Innis having so far submitted himself to the uidance of Jotham, did not now draw back. e freely supplied the whole motley bill of wants, and everything was soon in readiness for setting out on their inland journey. CHAPTER V. IN THE DIGGINGS. THEY started with their asinine team, one morning at dawn of day, in a direction nearly opposite to the one which they intendend to pur- sue, having laden their wagon by night to avoid observation, but not leaving any one the right to complain of their clandestine departure. But they had not proceeded far before they discov- ered that they were not the only early risers in San Francisco; for on looking back from an eminence which they ascended, a few miles from the city, they perceived a horseman about sixty rods behind them, traveling at a moderate pace in the same direction with themselves. A little disturbed at this discovery, Jotham diminished his own already slow progress, for the purpose of allowing the stranger to overtake and pass them, but the latter seemed to manifest no such desire, He came nearly up with them, indeed, and cast many curious glances at their vehicle and its contents, affording at the same time a better view of himself and equipage. He was a short, stout, sandy-complexioned man, with a shock of yellow hair, protruding in all directions from beneath a sort of jocke: cap, and resting in matted curls, or rather knots, upon the faded velvet collar of a short frock coat, which seemingly had once been blue, but which retained no definable color. His coat was buttoned to the chin; a soiled cotton cravat cov- ered the spot where a shirt-collar ought to have been, and brown linen trowsers, and thick, stiff boots, white with long-dried mud, completed his costume, His horse was like himself, short, stout and Scraggy, and behind him, on his sheepskin sad- ; he carried a cylindrical leather valise, very small, and looking not unlike a segment of a tchen stove-pipe. He was well-armed, a rifle being slung at the side of his steed, and two re- sea and a bowie knife projecting from his " i te eet When he had attained a convenient proximi- ty for conversation, Jotham gave him a civil “good-morning,” to which he replied with a broad grin, and a silly, good-natured look; but there was a sharp twinkling in a pair of very bright eyes underneath his cap front, which had in them more the expression of a fox than a 008, “You've got a tough little pony there?” said Jotham, trying to be agreeable, and being un- able, without manifest absurdity, to make any nearer approach to a compliment, either to the beast or its rider, “Yes, pretty ks oo “ And ast, too, I darsay?” The stranger gave another remarkably close and prying look into the wagon, before he re- plied to the question. “Yes, pretty fast—want to see him go? “Yes; I should like to see his paces,’ And at the word, the pony, in obedience to some quiet intimation of its master’s wishes, started onward at a rapid rate, which it con- tinued without intermission, until both horse and rider disappeared in the distance. Jotham and Innis laughed at the incident as a singular one, but speedily dismissed it from their thoughts —and soon afterward changed their own route to a course running aes at right angles with their former direction. Fred thought at one time that he saw the equestrian watching them from a remote point; but as the Yankee could not see him, he concluded he was mistaken, This hallucination, however, if such it were, returned on the following evening, and also on the third day of their journey—but as Jotham, who was by no means near-sighted, could in neither instance discern anything like the ob- ject which Innis described, the latter concluded that the yellow-headed savage had taken undue possession of his imagination, Their traveling was slow and toilsome; their wagon was their couch by night, and some sail-cloth which the. had taken with them to construct a tent in their desert home, was their covering. Jotbam’s information in regard to the locali- ty which he sought had been obtained entirely from two miners, who had passed it in return- ing from a more distant field of labor, and who possibly were the only white people who had ever trod its soil, or bathed in the waters of what, with.a traveler’s exaggeration, they had - called the Bottomless Pond. They had told him as nearly as they could its exact direction from San Francisco, and all the landmarks of streams, hills and woodlands which distinguished the route, and all this information Jotham had care- fully writtendown. The great recommendation of the place in the Vermonter’s eyes was the peculiar condition of the quartz rocks, which were to be found there in multitudes of small bowlders, as well as in a more massive state, and which would rarely require a resort to blasting to render them fit food for his “* Crush- ers, “Tf we can only find it,” he said, beh | for the hundredth time his pocket compass ani his soiled memoranda, ‘‘We cannot be far away from it, if we have kept the right course. for we must haye come nearly a hundred miles,

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10 Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. His conjectures proved correct. On the next day they came to a remarkably sinuous stream, which wound like a snake through the land- scape and which was the last link in his chain of evidences. It proceeded from, and by fol- lowing it up, led them to the Bottomless Pond, which proved to be a nearly circular little lake imbedded between two mountainous ridges, which partly shielded it from distant observa- tion. But the conspicuous feature of the scenery was the granite rocks, which not only extended in low ledges for miles along the bases of the hills, but which lay scattered in myriad bowlders on every side. On that very day, before their tent was pitched or their wagon unladen, did the eager adven- turers put up their largest crushing-machine, and make their first experiment, and with a completeness of success which astonished even the enthusiastic Yankee himself. “We've hit it, we have!” he said, emphati- cally, after gloating for some time over the “precipitated” dust from his first ‘‘ smash- ings,” as he called the powdered rock. ‘‘ There ain’t any mistake aboutit, Mr. Innis. This here dust, which we have got by ten minutes labor, would ay our bill to-night at the best hotel in New York.” ‘ “That’s a fact,” said Fred, no less elated, and scarcely able to ped 7 himself on the ground by reason of his elasticity of spirits; “ but it won't buy us a supper here, Mr. Wakely, and I am feeling asif I could almost digest a bowlder myself, hat is there left to eat?” * Plenty of biscuit and a little cold ham, and whisky and water to wash it down with. What do you want better than that?” “That will do very well for a hungry man.” “ Fall to, then—the table is set,” said Jotham, opening the provision bag on the wagon-seat, and Innis waited no second bidding. ‘When this ham is quite gone,” said Fred, ‘we shall have toshoot some of these inquisitive deer around here, which come and stare at us 80 coolly, scarcely beyond pistol-shot. See that follow peeping over the hillock there at us. Suppose I pop him over now, just to teach him better manners.” “ Not now, Mr. Innis, if you please. I fear it would be a bad omen to shed blood here on the yore day of our arrival; besides, there is no time to Tess him. Let us wait till it becomes neces- sary. And finishing their meal, they emptied their wagon of most of its contents, in order that it might more easily subserve the purpose of a couch, and then commenced setting up their tent in a circular form around it, The fore part of the following day was devoted t) the completion 'of their cloth house, and the storing away within it of a portion of their stores, after which Jotham set himself about constructing the water-wheel, which was to turn his Crushers, He worked vigorously and handily at everything he took hold of, and with some awkward and bungling assistance from Tnnis, all was in due time completed. Tho inlet of the pond was a creek of i,, pectable dimen- sions, and had some natural f6x which required butlittle aid of dams to givé them the small water-power required. Beside one of these the Crushers were duly established, and set at work, grinding out their golden grist, Innis and Jotham finding full employment in selecting the stones and feeding the machines. They both looked forward with the greatest interest to the result of their first day’s experiment, and everythin; gave promise of a success brilliant beyond all their expectations. Their plan of labor was to stop their machines early enough every afternoon to allow time to separate all the gold on the same day, and, ac- cordingly, after ter hours of occasionally inter- rupted labor, the ‘“‘ Crushers” were allowed to repose at about five o’clock, and the Separators were brought into play. veral hours more of assiduous work completed their task, and placed before them the glittering proofs of the vast and speedy fortune which was at their command. More than: fifty ounces of pure gold rewarded their day’s labor, and they were astonished to find that they had pulverized probably not less than four tons of the rock. They secured their treasure, and retired to rest and golden dreams. But Innis awoke on the ensuing morning with painful proofs of over- fatigue at his laborious task. His spirits, how- ever, were buoyant, and he resolved not to be daunted by the labor, which he knew would seem lighter as he became accustomed to it, They prepared their early meal, but while they were partaking of it they were alarmed at the sound of a galloping horse, and almost be- fore they could rise to their feet, a face was protruded through the doorway of their tent anda pair of huge, greenish-gray eyes peered in upon them, which they at once recognized as belonging to their singular companion of the r ‘oad, “Want to hire?’ he drawled out, as he gradually brought his whole body inside the tent, and part of his horse’s head, the bridle be- ing thrown over his left arm, here was such a stupid, dull look abeué the visitor’s face, and he showed such a powerful, muscular frame, that the idea of gt ako utility at once flashed upon the mind of Jotham, who was himself aching with the over-exertion of the preceding day. ‘Don’t know,” answered the Yankee, ‘‘ Come a leave your horse outside, Whatcan you OG) The stranger fastened his horse without, and then re-entered the tent. “What can you do?” repeated Jotham, * Anything.” “ How many hours a day?” ** Sixteen.” ‘© What do you ask?” “Half anounce and found.” Jotham would not have objected to the price, had he not been anxious to keep the savage in ignorance of the extreme profitableness of their business, lest it might lead to injurious competi- tion, or some other disastrous concealment. “Half an ounce!” he exclaimed. “ Why, you'd better go home and go to Congress—that’s jest member of Congress pay, that is.” “Tain’t too much for me and my horse.” “Tl tell you what, we'll give you a quarter ounce, and if we haye good luck after the first

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Pe. eee ee a ee ee ee Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter, week, it shall be a half. What say you to that?” “ Agreed!” The stranger breakfasted, and was at once set at his task, which he entered upon with much energy, and continued to prosecute faithfully through the day, to, the great relief of both Jotham and Innis, who attended to one machine at alternate hours, while their employe took ex- clusive charge of the other. The separating process was managed by the proprietors alone, who carefully concealed from the stranger the amount of their gains. “We must have got more than three ounces to day,” said Jotham to Innis, in the hearing of the workman, after depositing between four and five pounds’ weight of the dust in the place of concealment. ‘* Doubtless,” replied Innis. Hercules, as Fred had christened the stranger, expressed no surprise, but stared stupidly at his employer. “Tf it keepson as well as that, I’m to have half an ounce, you know.” “ Certainly.” And it did. keep on as well as it had begin. Daily did Jotham and Innis store away their thousand dollars or more of treasure, and night- ly did they retire to rest joyous and elated with their prosperity for many successive weeks. CHAPTER VI. ROBBED OF FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS. Two months had passed by, and the accumu- jJated treasure of the adventurers was already very large, when one night Innis, who was a light sleeper, was awakened at midnight by a slight noise outside the tent. He listened for some minutes, and hearing no repetition of the sound, was about resuming his slumbers, when he aetinetty heard the step of a horse near thedoorway. He immediately arose, went silently to the doorway, and looked out. It wasa cloudy night, but there was enough of light to render objects visible at a short dis- tance, and Innis at once perceived, very near the side of the tent, and but a few yards dis- tant from the entrance, both a horse and man the outlines of which he thought corresponded to the figures of Hercules and Wolf (which was the name of the horse). Fred, with fearful sus- picions, eons quickly to the bed of the work- man, which he found vacant, and then he hasti- ly awoke Jotham, who was deeply enchained in sleep, and could with difficulty be made either to keep silent, or to comprehend what was the matter. As soon, however, as he did understand the nature of the disturbance, he sprung for his rifle, but it had been removed, and Innis to his astonishment, now found that his gun was also gone, “He is trying to rob us, without doubt,” witepered Jotham, as he hastily dressed him- Self, “He has already done it,” replied Innis, re- turning from the place where the gold had been kept. ‘The bags are gone.” We have our pistols left, and we are two to one,” said Jotham. ‘* Come!” He hurried to the doorway as he spoke, fol- { lowed by Innis, each pistol in hand, but al-’ ready the laden beast, led by its master, was de- parting on a fast walk. The dust had been cept in a considerable number of the small, strong bags which are usually provided by the miners for that purpose, holding only a few quarts each, and thesu had been placed by the robber in a large bag, which he had securely fastened upon the horse by means of a belt. “Those things ain’t of any use in the dark,” whispered Jotham, thrusting his pistol in his belt. .‘‘ Follow ‘me, now, like a catamount, or all is lost.” As the Yankee spoke, he sprung forward, al- most with the impetuosity of the animal he had named, and before the well-armed robber, who heard his approach, could bring any weapon to bear upon him, the agile Jotham was upon his back, with his hands clinched, talon-like, into his throat, and shouting to Innis to come on. Fred, who was scarcely behind his friend, at once threw his arms around the ruffian, with a view of piniouing him, and preventing his using his weapons; but the giant at the same instant sprung furiously forward, and threw himself and his assailants together upon the ground. The shock disengaged the hold of Jotham, and before he could renew it, Hercules rolled rapid- ly over several times, sprung to his feet, and darted off, followed by his steed, and in an- other minute man and beast, and fifty thousand dollars of treasure, had disappeared in the sur- rounding gloom. Innisand Jotham immediately gave chase, with the energy of desperation, but there was scarcely any light to direct them, and they were unarm- ed, excepting with their revolvers and knives, For awhile they kept within hearing of the fugi- tive horse, the noise of whose clattering hoofs guided them in the pursuit, and they were in momentary expectation that the beast, which they supposed had not effected a union with its master, would slacken its pace and allow them to come up with him, But they underrated the sagacity of Wolf, who continued to dash for- ward as if fully conscious of the part which he was taking in his master’s financial trans- actions, Every minute the noise of his progress grew fainter on the ears of the pursuers, at times entirely ceasing, as a softer road was gained, and then again growing more distinct as the fly- ing hoofs struck the pebbled strand. But as one sense failed them, another came to their aid, for at length the parting clouds al- lowed the moonlight to fall upon the landscape and the quick eye of Innis at once discovere the riderless horse about sixty rods in advance, He was progressing with unabated speed. “The brute goes as if he was possessed with an evil spirit.” said Fred. “Blam’d if I ain’t afraid it’s Belzebub him- self!” said Jotham, panting as he spoke, but not slackening his pace, ‘‘ Didn’t you see how his eyes shone like balls of fire jest afore he started off? Perhaps Hercules, there, has‘ sold himself,’ and this here gold is the price that he gets—who knows?” “The old fellow must be hard up,” replied Innis, laughing, ‘‘ if he can’t raise money wi th 5 acinar as

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Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. out working for it in the mines, and then carry- ing off two hundred weight on his back.” ‘Better work in the mines than in hot brim- stone, Just see how he goes! How could he have sense enough to run like that if he was only a common horse?” Wolf, in the mean time, had attained the summit of a little hill, where he was for- awhile more plainly seen in relief against the sky, but soon afterward he disappeared from view as he descended on the opposite side. Scarcely a min- ute afterward, however, the burly figure of Hercules, before unobserved, was seen toiling up the ascent, and disappearing in turn over the summit, rendering it probable that his proximi- ty to the horse had been all the while sufficient to admit of urging him forward with his voice. This sight fired the Yankee with a yehement in- dignation which overcame the last remnant of his superstitious fears, and seemed to impart to him renewed strength and activity. But, alas! no energy could avail to lessen the distance be- tween the pursuers and the treasure-laden steed, or eyen to prevent its being increased, as long as the latter continued his present rate of pro- gress, for although his motion was not exceed- ingly rapid, it was far beyond human competi- tion for any prolonged period. Even Hercules, who was greatly in advance of the young men, was continually losing ground in comparison with his steed, although the animal was not be- ‘ond the reach of his voice, and would probably ave instantly stopped at his command, When the pursuers bad in their turn gained the top of the hill, tha horse was no longer visible, and Hercules was standing still about sixty rods in advance of them, apparently wait- ing to see if they continuea the chase. The event proved that he was also waiting for a very different purpose, for no sooner were the figures of the young men brought in relief be- tween him and the sky than Innis, whose sight was remarkably acute, perceived the ruffian raising his rifle and leveling it at them. He had barely time to exclaim, ‘Down! down! he is going to fire!” and he threw himself upon the Satpal when the flash was seen and the report heard, and the whizzing bullet. went flying past them, not a little frightening Jotham, who had not had time to follow his friend’s example. “Darn his picture!” exclaimed the Yankee. **Come on, now! He ain’t loaded. Come on!” and he dashed down the hill, followed by Innis. Hercules did not await their coming, but again started off on a run, maintaining his advantage of distance, though not apparently increas- ing it. A chase of half a mile had ensued when the steed again came in view, now in his turn stand- ing still, probably in obedience to some call of his master, and awaiting his coming up. To the dismay of the pursuers, Hercules threw him- self upon the pony, which, although so heavily laden, started off without apparent effort at quite his former pace. Hoping to see the wearied beast falter under his great load, the young men _ continued, ee with failing courage, to press forward; but doubt gave way to discouragement, and dis- couragement to despair, as they found them- selyes rapidly falling behind their gold, and still saw no sign of diminution in the speed at which it was departing. Soon the horse and its rider entirely disappeared in the distance, but still they ranon, stopping occasionally for a minute to regain breath and strength, until day dawn ed, without revealing to them, as they had an- ticipated, a sight of their enemy, and seemed to leave them no further ground for hope. But they decided, on consultation, to go on. The tracks of the steed were distinctly visible in the sandy soil, and as long as they had this clew to the direction of the robber, they resolved not to abandon the chase. About sunrise they saw before them, at the distance of a few miles, another bill of consider- able hight, the summit of which they supposed must command an extensive view, and might enable them again to get sight of the fugitive. They were not mistaken in their calculations, and when Le reached the hight they saw the robber scarcely two miles in advance of them proceeding at a very moderate pace, while stil on further and moving in the opposite direction, was a considerable party of men, with one or more teams and wagons. The appearance of this cavalcade had, doubtless, been the cause of Hercules lessening his speed, lest he should as- sume the appearance of a fugitive and be stop- 1 Hope now revived in the breasts of Innis and Jotham, and although both were nearly ex- hausted, they still ran on with no little velocity, Hercules, in the mean time, plodding slowly on- ward with a careless and easy air. He knew enough of the general character of the mining population to feel assured that if unsuspected asa thief, he would not be molested by the party he was about to meet, for in that lawless region every individual, even though not punctiliously honest, feels that he best consults his own safety by fostering a sacred regard for individual rights, ut it was a matter of course that the robber would not proceed far without looking to see if he were pursued, and when at length he did so, sudden doubt and ‘irresolution seemed to take possession of his mind. He at first entirel stopped his progress, then went slowly forward. His pursuers were about a mile and a half be- hind him, and the other party less than half that distance in front, and if he did not escape before their union was effected, his capture was almost certain, This conviction seemed et length to take possession of his mind, for after a few rods progress, he turned his horse’s head to the south, and started off at a rapid pace, Innis and Jotham, instead of directly follow- ing him, hastened to meet the strangers and communicate to them the true character of the fugitive, and the great value of the booty which he was bearing away. CHAPTER VIL FRONTIER JUSTICE. THERE were eight men in the party, all of whom were miners returning to their diggings from San Francisco, where they had been to dis- pose of ther gold dust, and to procure supplies. No sooner did they learn the state of affairs than all who were mounted, to the number of four, set off with a loud hurrah in pursuit, and el

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Ft hk al I ee ee Nick Doyle, the Gold-Huntev. ! on a rapid gallop, while Innis and Jotham, as be- fore, could only follow on foot. Hercules had a very considerable start, and his extracrdinary horse seemed to have been husbanding his powers for this final hour of need, such tremen- dous and telling exertions did he now make, But they were on a very extended, open plain, which afforded no shelter nor turning-place to the fugi- tive for many miles, and it soon became appa- rent that with the heavy load which Wolf car- ried, he could not long maintain his advance. The miners were armed with rifles, and ap- peared like resolute and determined men, and they continued to send forth, at intervals of a few minutes, a repetition of the charging shout with which they had set out on the chase, with a view of intimidating the robber, Hercules, however, was not easily, scared and was prob- ably accustomed to perilous situations. he miners continued to gain upon bim, and when the half-mile interval was reduced to a quarter, one of them, a tall, lithe Kentuckian, who was considerably ahead of his companions, drew his rein, and raising his rifle, took deliber- ate aim, and fired at the fugitive. The shot proved harmless, and received no notice what- ever from Hercules; but when it was repeated at a nearer interval, the latter stopped, and it at once became apparent that he was about to return the compliment. Three of the men were, unfortunately, near together, affording with their horses a wide mark for the practiced eye of the ruffian, who sent a bullet into the midst of the group, which lodged in the shoulder of one of the party, inflicting a painful but not serious wound. ge now took possession of the minds of the pursuers, who pressed more furi- ously forward, fully resolved not to allow the robber an opportunity of reloading his weapon, and the fate of Hercules soon became so desper- ate that he drew his knife, and cutting the belt which bound the bag of gold to his horse, allow- ed the whole treasure to fall to the earth. Ashout from the miners greeted this triumph, but if the robber had eeictinied on the gold ing accepted as a peace-offering he was mistaken, for the whole party dashed past the rich prize with scarcely a glance at it, and continued the chase. Wolf, lightened of so great a part of bis load, began to increase his pace, when the Kentuckian ordered a halt, “Give him a broadside!” he shouted, ‘and aim at the pony.” His own gun was unloaded, and snatching that of his wounded companion, the three men fired together. Wolf staggered, plunged and fell, and his rider, desperate and frantic, gained his feet, and turning to face his pursuers, awaited their com- ing, with a pistol in each hand. The miners halted a little beyond pistol shot, and guleely re- loaded their rifles, when the one who had acted as their leader presented his weapon, and called out to the ruffian to surrender. What will ye do with me?’ doggedly asked Hercules, s ““T will give you to the crows in just one min- ute, if you don’t,” said Kentucky, taking out his watch, fs agree to send me to San Francisco . “T will send you somewhere in just thirty seconds,” said the other, bringing his rifle to his eye, and perfecting his aim. There was vo help for it, and Hercules threw his pistols upon the ground, when the whole party immediately rushed up, took from him his knives, and bound his hands securely together. He made but one attempt at self-exculpation, and in doing so condemned himself by his own words. ‘Tt was as much mine as theirs!” he said. “As much ? Then you at least stole half of it, by your own confession.” He was conducted back to the spot where the miners had left their companions and the wagon, and of course the recovered treasure was not left ind. ‘How long will it take to try this man?” said Kentucky the first. “Our horses need half an hour to rest,” re- plied a Mississippian. ‘*T should think that ought to be enough.” ““ And too much, for there'll be something to be done after trial, probably, and if we don’t look sharp we shall jose a hull hour more in this business, when every one knows we ought to be moving.” “Very true.” ‘ There is just nine of us here, besides the wit- nesses. I nominate Mr. Beldon, there, for Judge. He's been judge at the horse-races many a time, and he’s qualified.” The motion was put and carried. “YI be prosecuting ’torney, or prisoner’s counsel, [ don’t care a chaw of tobacker which, and Mr. Meek shall be counsel on the other side. Then there is just six of you left for jurors. What say you to that?” It was agreed to, “Now, Mr. Meek, Pll toss up with you who shall be who. Heads, district ‘attorney—tails, prisoner’s attorney. Heads it is! I’m the prose- cutor. Is the court ready?” ** All ready.” ‘*Gentlemen, this man is a thef. He stole a bag of gold, and he has admitted it. Besides, we can prove it. Let the witnesses step forward.” Jotham came, and was sworn, with some show of solemnity, to tell the truth, which he did with very little circumlocution, Innis was called, but declined testifying, and protested gat td against the whole proceeding, offering to be at the trouble and expense of con- ducting the prisoner to San Francisco, to be tried and punished according to law, but he was over- ruled, and put down clamorously by judge, jury, and counsel on both sides, “We can do without his testimony,” said the prosecutor, “* So we can,” said the prisoner’s counsel, “What say you, gentlemen of the jury, guilty or not guilty?’ asked the former, ‘Wait a little,” said Mr. Meek; ‘‘how do you know but we have a defense? Hallo, there, car- rot-head, what have you got to say for your- self? ““T& was as much mine as theirs. I worked — hardest for it.” “Ts that all you have to say?” , “No; if you ain’t fools you £e and get their ‘Crushers,’ I can show you the way, and you z

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_« Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter, ee shell out a thousand dollars a day, and there is enough for all—them too,” pointing to Jotham and Innis. ‘‘Come, don’t be silly, now. We can all go into partnership.” “Ts that all you have to say? Haven't you got any witnesses?” “T have witnesses enough to my good charac- ter, if youll give me a chance to call them.” “Gall away.” “But they ain’t hore. about with me.” “You had better, though. Such a man as you might very often have need of them.” “The horses are done eating,” said the judge, “and it is time the trial is over—we ought to be moving.” ‘Well, gentlemen, the prisoner has no wit- nesses, and there isn’t any time to make speeches. You have heard what he has to say for himself. Are you ready to give your verdict.” The jurors exchanged a few words, and one said they were ready. * Quilty or not guilty?” * Guilty!” “Then the judge will pass the sentence, if he pleases. Jackson, jest pick up a rope, will you, so that we don’t lose so much time. You ain’t wanted any longer on the jury.” “T ain't any speech-maker,” said the judge— ** the man is convicted of theft, and by the laws of the mines he must die. “T sentence him to be hung—instanter, and Smith, if you hadn’t been a spooney, you’d have shot him when you fired at him an hour ago, and saved us all this trouble, Go ahead.” The rope was ready, and before tho man well knew whether he was convicted or not, the noose was around his neck, and he was dragged back toward the wagon, the pole of which, fixed erect, was to served for a gallows, there being no tree within sight. Innis again interfered, and sought earnestly to prevent the tragedy; but he could not effect anything. The peaonet himself did not beg. There was a baleful fire in his eyes which indi- eated that his thoughts were on another sub- ject; and as he passed toward the wagon, he suddenly snatched a pistol from the belt of one of his conductors, and fired it at the Kentuckian, who had been the chief cause of his capture. His ball missed its mark, but brought a speedy termination of his own misery, and saved a re- volting scene, for quick as thought the rifle of the assaulted man was leveled, and its bullet went crashing through the head of the robber. “He was near for a good mark,” said Kentucky, coolly—proceeding to re-load his gun, without stirring from his tracks. ‘* Hoe was game though, wasn’t he?” “He wasn’t igen else,” said Mississippi. “Come, let us be off,” said the judge. Innis was sick at heart at the terrible scene which he had witnessed; but he was convinced that however improper the execution of Hercules might have been, the wretch fully deserved his fate, and the safety of the mining population might be said almost to require it. ‘he miners made immediate preparations to ‘depart, and so far from molesting the treasure of the young men, they did not even ask a com- I don’t carry them can all make your fortunes in six months. They | pensation for their great services in recovering it. They did not, however, refuse it when it was urged upon them, and about a thousand dollars’ worth of the dust was divided among them by Innis and Jotham, the tall Kentuckian receiving a double portion, “We don’t want your money,” he said, pour- ing it into his bullet pouch—“ but we'll take it just to remember you by.” Fifty ounces more were paid by Jotham and Innes to the owners of two of the best horses in the company, in exchange for their animals, which they were greatly delighted to obtain even at that high price, The miners departed without manifesting any curiosity as to the location of the rich diggings of the young men, or showing any disposition to trespass upon them, seeming to exercise a punctilious honor in this particular, Jotham and Innis remained to bury the slain man, and then returned at their leisure to their silvan home, For several weeks after these exciting events they continued to prosecute their labor alone. and although with rich returns, yet not withou a constant fatigue of body, which they feared ri a if long continued, produce. serious re- sults. Their treasure had also become so large, that with the recent example of its insecurity in their minds, they did not deem it prudent to 6 it longer to the dangers of the desert, and they resolyed to return to San Francisco, both for the purpose of disposing of their gold, and of procuring assistants at their work, They took down their tent, and concealed its materials, to- gether with their ‘‘ Crushers” in the earth, and allowed their mules their liberty—pretty certain of finding them somewhero in the vicinity of the Pond on their return, and nearly indifferent whether they did so or not, Their numerous little sacks of gold they placed in other and lar- ger bags, taking care to fill the mouths of each of these with other materials, and also arrang- ing them in the wagon in such a way that the would serve for seats, and might easily be shield- ed from observation. Their new team was fresh and strong, and their journey back to the capi- tal, although attended with hourly solicitude, was effected without harm or loss in traveling it. They found a ready and good market for their dust, which they immediately sold, and under the advice of some judicious capitalists, they invest- ed the greater part of their monoy in real estate. in a part of the town which they deem certain of augmenting many fold in value if the immigration continued long as it had begun, Tho remainder of their capital they left in the hands of reliable bankers, and having procured at a high salary the services of two strong laboring men, whose fidelity was well vouched for, they prepared to set out on their re- turn Two more horses, tough and aie little ani- mals, had been purchased for their followers, who were sent in advance, with directions for the first half day’s journey, in order to diminish the chances of attracting attention to their movements. “We'll follow on ahead,” said Terence O'Grady, a bold, stout “ boy” of thirty, who was

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‘Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter, one of the “hands,” as Jotham called his em- ployees, and whose laughing, honest face, seem- ed a better anty of fidelity than the * first- rate character” which he brought from Brown, Smithers & Co., of the golden city, whose notes he held for over a thousand dollars of his say- ings. Renee had been in the mines—had been through all manner of rough experiences and had been content to subside into the position of a hired man with day wages rather more than equivalent to a month’s earnings in “ould Ireland.” His colleague, Nick Doyle, was an ex-soldier who had been in the Mexican war, had belonged to a corps of sharp-shooters, and who still car- ried a rifle with which he had brought down an officer at eighty rods, by shooting him through a field-glass with which he was surveying the Yankee forces. ‘‘ The ball crushed through the spy-glass—through his eye, and through the back of his head,” aie Nick, ‘as we heard after the battle was won—'‘ and it spoiled the whole con- cern. Nick was a Southern Ohioan, of about thirty- five years, stoutish, with black hair and eyes, too fond of his pipe and whisky, but honest, tractable and obedient, and quite a stranger to fear of any kind, except the fear of short ra- tions. He always addressed Innis as Captain. The journey back to the Bottomless Pond was a fatiguing one of four days’ duration, for the weather was very warm, and the wagon was heavily laden with a miscellaneous assortment of stores, Tho capitalists felt at liberty to in- dulge in some luxuries now, and they had pro- vided themselves with many comforts of which they had sorely felt the need during their first sojourn in their Crusoe-like solitude. ut they arrived in safety, and without serious mishap, and found everything as they had left it, with the exception of the mules, which had strayed to parts unknown, and were not inquired Tr. CHAPTER VIII. DEER-HUNTING, Ir was now about the middle of August. No time was lost in unearthing the “ Crushers” and other hy eeeense together with the canvas walls of their tent, and everything was in readi- ness, in a day or two, for renewed operations. Materials for a new tent for the laborers had been brought with them, and this was erected a few feet distant from that of Innis and Wakely. Work was resumed; the golden harvest again poured in more profusely than before, and for a period of nearly three months there was little abatement of their wonderful success. No secrecy was now observed; the new work- men were now made small share-holders in the concern, and were themselves acquiring what they rded as wealth, and once a week the accumulated treasures were buried in ingenious- ly constructed caches, at some distance from the tents, where they would probably have remained undiscovered for years, if ae, stress of danger had driven the miners suddenly from their post. We have said that they were provided with many comforts and even luxuries; and Terence, we who was a tolerable cook, and learned rapidly their savory meals ac- by practice, served Be from harder labor a fow ceptably, being excu: hours each day for this purpose. : But when their bacon and jerked beef was consumed, they began to feel the want of some heartier food than “hard tack,” and the few small fish which they were enabled, with much labor and waste of time, to take from the lake. So it was decided, one bright November morn- ing, that Mr. Innis and Nick Doyle, should 34 : on foot up the mountain in pursuit of game (the , ascent was too steep for horses,) exercising the utmost wariness in their movements, and that in case of any pursuit, (which was believed most improbable,) sy should retreat by a circuitous route, and only return to the tents after it was uite dark, when no outlying foe could see them. “Touch your guns off aisy,” said Terence, “and don’t be making too much noise wid ’em, If it was me that you’d sind now, ’drin the deer down, and ketch ’em by the horns, I would, and make no noise at all.” “You shall go next time, Terry,” said Fred, as he and Nick went gayly forth, fording the shallow inlet, whence they directed their course toward the hills on the opposite side of the little lake. There was no particular reason for pre- ferring that side of the valley, excepting that, all the way up the acclivity. it commanded a view of the house which they had left. The ascent, now gradual, and now so precipi- tous as to be overcome only by clinging to boughs and bushes, rose to a hight of near! three hundred feet, and might, without muc license of speech, be termed a mountain, and they saw nothing which tempted them to fire a gun, until they hed reached its summit. Here they discovered a herd of five deer, led by a many-pronged stag, browsing quietly off the bushes, at a distance of about fifty rods from the slope, They dropped to the ground to consult how they might best approach them, for though Nick protested that he wanted no better shot than from where he stood, Innis, less experi- enced, insisted on getting nearer, that he might make more sure of his aim. They crept on hands and feet a dozen or fifteen rods without startling the animals, and then Fred yielded to the most violent gesticulations and head-shakings of his companion, and consented to make the trial without going further. “Tl take the stag, Captain,” whispered Nick, a and you may take your choice of the does— ey Innis nodded assent, but as they rose to fire, the animals threw up their heads, and before the rifles could be brought to bear, they were all in Sg motion, ‘wo quick reports followed, but with no visi- ble effect, except to increase the speed of the herd, who now darted forward like the wind while the mortified hunters hastily reloaded their weapons, and then followed on the run. “Tt was my fault, I know,” said Fred, who saw the vexed look of his companion; ‘ but I lon. for the honor of bringing down a deer, and they were too far for me at first.” ‘“‘ We'll have them yet,” said Nick, propitiated now. ‘I reckon that stag is hit near the left

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Srageesery eas FP RS Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter, et shoulder, but a little too high to do much harm —but we'll see.” The chase was continued with varying hopes and doubts for about three miles, without catch- ing more than occasional and distant glimpses of the herd through the trees, and the pursuers, treading lightly, and avviding all crackling bushes, believed themselves unseen and unheard by the game, whose alarm at length abated, their speed subsiding gradually, until they were again walking and browsing as before, At sixty rods Nick begged pln to fire, promising certain success, and Fred consenting now, of course, also took aim, and the rifles rung as before, almost simultaneously. The stag dropped, the herd fled, and Nick, proceeding to reload before quitting his tracks, replied to the congratulations of Innis by say- ing: ern show you the other bullet-mark now. That’s what I wanted him for chie Gh “Don’t be too sure,” replied Fred. “Tf it ain’t there, I ee not to taste the venison,” said Doyle, confidently. They hastened to the stag, which was yet alive and struggling, and having dispatched it, the sharpshooter pointed in triumph to the two wounds. : “This was what brought him down,” he said, inting to the lower bullet hole. ‘‘ Clus to the eart you see. That’s the place to hit ‘em. Where did you aim, Captain?” Fred laughed, “Why, I aimed at two or three of them in a huddle,” he said. ‘‘I thought I must hit one.” “Like enough you did,” replied the other, pro- ceeding toskin the stag; “there’s many places you ean hit an animal without bringing him down, Always aim at tho vitals, Captain, and don’t try to kill but one deer at a time.” Though this was said soberly, Fred knew his “hand” was making fun of him, but he took it in good part, and began to assist in the flaying operation. When the animal was skinned and quartered, half of it was enveloped in his hide, and de- sited in the crotch of a tree, where it would tolerably safe from beasts of prey, until they could return for it the next day. The two hind quarters Fred and Nick believed they could easily carry home, after first fortifying them- selves with a hearty meal, and for this purpose they proceeded to cut two large, juicy steaks from one of the haunches before them. A fire was kindled, and these were cooked after a fashion known to the ex-soldier, and were eaten, unseasoned, by the hungry hunters, with a relish unknown in lands of civilization and plenty. “We cut them too small,” said Nick, as he smacked his lips over the last mouthful. i {¢ Fact,” replied Fred, laughing. ‘ Let’s try over, : fy —— 7 CHAPTER IX. UNWELCOME GUESTS. " Doyt# hastened to gather fuel to replenish _ their failing fire—when a crackling in the bushes behind them was heard, and a yery hun- ry-looking “‘diner-out” made his appearance, n the shape of a ferocious grizzly bear. He was so near when discovered, and was ad- vancing on such a rapid trot, and with such evi- dently hostile intent, that nothing remained for the hunters but to take to the nearest trees. “Up! up!” shouted Nick, suiting the action to the word, and clambering, squirrel-like, up a moderate-sized maple, the trunk of which was about twice the size of his own body. Innis was standing near the tree in which the fore-quarters of the stag had been placed. He hesitated a breath—to see if he could recover his gun, which stood against an adjoining-oak, but the danger was too close and too imminent, and he, too, ‘‘ went up”—and was scarcely in the lowest fork of the tree before the monster was bellowing at its base, with snout upraised to- ward him. “This is a pretty kittle of fish,” said Doyle, from his tree, for the two were within easy talk- ing distance. nnis, who had been a little nearer the mon- ster’s jaws than the other, was yet too excited for words, but he busied. himself 'in trying to secure the venison from falling, for he had near- ly displaced it in climbing. sh He has enough for a good meal down there, I’m sure,” he said, after awhile. ‘Perhaps he will eat, and go away content.” Bruin was not long in finding the hind-quar- ters of the stag, which lay invitingly upon the ground before him, and he attacked them witha voracity which, for awhile, seemed to render him oblivious of everything else. Nick instantly began to descend—but when Innis saw his design, he called quickly to him to desist. “Hist! we must have the guns,” was the low reply. Bruin, at this moment pausing in his meal, raised his head high and utte a long how}, after which he resumed his work more raven ously, as if to make up for lost time. “He is calling for his mate,” said Innis, who knew something of the habits of these animals, “Be careful, Nick!” Nick’s feet were on the ground, and he was peering around the trunk which interposed be- tween him and the beast, when a crash in the bushes was heard, followed by a howl of recog- nition, and another bear, nearly as large as the first, came rushing into the arena. sy back, Nick—back, or you are lost!” shouted Fred, but the Ohioan’ needed no warning. His ~ faculties were all sharpened to the utmost, and he was already clambering back into the tree, at the first note of this new danger. “This is gittin’ a little too ser’ous, Captain!” he said, after regaining his elevated t. “Rather,” replied Fred, oon to keep calm, The gluttonous quadruped, although consider- ate enough to call his mate to his luscious repast, had left very little for her to eat. Two-thirds of the dinner was devoured before she came, after which there was a brisk competition be- tween the two to see who should get most of what remained. =A The appetite of the female was thus only fully aroused when the meat was gone, and licking her red chops, she looked into the face of her ner _——

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Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunteyr. i¥ companion, and thence (guided by his upward ze) into the trees, where for the first time. she iscovered the human game. Rendered furious by the sight, she ran from one tree to the other, growling terrifically, and . ever and anon standing upon her hind-legs and om the trunks with a. scratching the bark ferocity dreadful to behold. ““That’s no use,” said Nick, coolly. ‘* You can’t get up here, you know, which is mighty fortenet for us,” The other animal, less demonstrative, looked lazily up into the trees, and contented himself with an occasional growl. “71] throw down the other half of the deer,” said Fred. ‘‘ When they have eaten that, per- haps they will go away contented. What do you te ‘*Hold on, Captain. Let’s see first if they don’t go without. This baitin’ on ’em may have a bad effect, and keep ’em around here all day.” They waited patiently nearly an hour, but still the animals raged and howled below, pass- ing to and fro between the two trees, and occa- sionally clasping and shaking the smallest of them (Nick’s maple) until its upper boughs could be seen to sway with the motion. “ Shake away!” cried Doyle, sitting astride of a lower branch, with his back against the trunk. “But you won't git nothin’, old feller. This fruit ain't ripe.” “ They show no signs of going, Nick, and “it’s past noon,” said Fred, looking at his watch. “Fact. I wish they had an. appointment somewhere that couldn’t be put off.” ‘Isn't it best to throw the venison down now?” “Reckon I would, Captain, Perhaps it will pacify ’em. But hold on a minute. ou’d bet- ter cut off a few slices first. Possible you may want them before they quit us.” This was not encouraging, but Innis proceeded to do as suggested. “ Well, shall I let this slide now?” KESENO, don’t let it slide; but throw it as far from the tree as you can, off that way,” and Nick pointed in a direction opposite to the oak against which their guns were leaning. ** Oh, yes; I see.” Innis took one of the quarters, and after swaying it backward and forward at arm’s length for some time, flung it several rods off, and the watchful bears pounced upon it almost as soon as it struck the ground, tearing it fierce- - ly to pieces with tooth and nail. ‘Now throw the other, and then I’ll go down after the guns,” said Doyle. Innis did not consider it right to let his com- panion take all the risk, and after throwing down the other quarter of venison, offered to undertake the dangerous enterprise. “T’'m nearer to the guns than you, Nick.” “Yes, and you’re nearer to the bears, too. Besides, you couldn’t git a gun for me, you know.” Nick was watching the bears as he spoke. “There; now their heads are both turned away from us,” he said, beginning to descend. Silence, now!” vA th @ moment he stood upon the ground—hesi_ tating. The guns were full twenty yards dis- tant, and the tree against which they leaned was not one to be climbed. But all this he knew be- fore—it was from another cause that he wavered. The beasts had quarreled oyer their food, and at this moment the female, espying the quarter which had been thrown down last, suddenly snatched it up and ran back with it toward the place where the animals had made their first meal, nearly midway between the two refuge trees. She did not stop until she had gained that spot, and before she had quite done so, Nick was sorrowfully enough reascending, “It’s no use,” he said; “’twas a mistake throwing that last piece. They’d both had to stuck to one joint if it hadn’t been for that.” “What's to be done now?” ‘Nothing but to wait,” CHAPTER X. ‘ FISHING FOR A GUN. Wait they did. The bears finished their meal, without entirely devouring the carcass, and as they were evidently gorged with food, the un- fortunate men hoped they would go away, But they manifested no such besa After looking up into the trees, and growling wildly at the prisoners, they began to play, gamboling like elephants, and tossing about such light things as came in their way. One of them went up to the guns, and after smelling of them, took Fred’s rifle in his mouth and ran around with it, like a pig with a wisp of straw. “Blamed if I don’t think he is goin’ to shoot us, Captain,” said Nick. Fred laughed, despite his forebodings, but his uneasiness momentarily deepened. The hours were rapidly passing, and there were no signs of relief. By and by the bears lay down, appa- rentiy for a siesta, but they did not seem to sleep. They licked themselves and each other, and now and then looked up into the trees with a monitory growl. that were much nearer to Innis than to Nick, and the gun which they had dropped now lay © directly under the boughs of the tree in Wiiten Fred had taken refuge. If they slept, he felt that it would be incumbent upon him to go down and get that gun. He shuddered at the thought—but he resolved to do it—and he appreciated Nick's forbearance in not having already proposed it. Suddenly, however, a new idea struck him, and he took out his knife and began to cut the deer-skin into strips, . ‘‘ What are you at, Captain?” asked Doyle. “Tm going to fish for the gun.” “Capital!” said Nick. ‘ You ought’ to be a backwoodsman, and not a New Yorker. Your genius is comin’ out strong.” Fred laughed. It was the work of a few min- utes to make his line, with a large noose in one end, and he was soon directly over the coveted weapon, lowering the snare from which so much was hoped. He tried to get it under the butt of the gun, which did not seem to lie hee to the ground—but a hundred efforts ailed. He next tried the muzzle, with similar re-

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OL ea ee t 18 Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter, sults. An hour passed in these endeavors. The perspiration rolled from his face, and fell to the ground, as he lay prone upon a limb, thus fruit- lessly fishing. But at last—at last—the noose caught! It slipped under the muzzle, and was easily pulled along to the stock, where it held, and in an- other minute the rifle was dangling in the air, and was drawn slowly into the tree. Never in bis life had Fred enjoyed a moment of such exquisite triumph. The conqueror of Waterloo could scarcely have been more jubi- lant, and Nick, who was almost equally excited, swung his hat, and led off in three vociferous cheers, in which, of course, ‘tthe Captain” heartily joined. The gun was already loaded, and Innis’s powder-flask hung at his side, and his bullets were in his pocket, so that he was not at a loss for ammunition. He brushed off the dirt and leaves from the weapon,and at once prepared to O. “ Take the big one,” said Nick, eagerly. ** He’s layin’ on his side. Plump him in the body, jost back of the shoulder—rather low. Thunder! But I'd give fifty ounces for that shot!” ** Keep cool! {can hit a barn door, Nick.” ‘““Yes—but it’s the keyhole you want to hit now, and that’s the heart.” Never was heart more fairly exposed—but Fred, who was an indifferent marksman at the best, was flurried now, and Bruin’s organ of life escaped untouched, The ball, however en- tered the shoulder of the beast, who sprung up with a growl, and ran furiously toward [n- nies tree, seeming to understand that he had in- flicted the sting. After some futile demonstra- tions against the bark, he returned and lay down again beside his mate, rather contemptu- ously, Fred thought, and seeming to say, ‘ Pop away, my boy, if it amuses you.’ ‘“H» doesn’t even limp,” said Innis, reload- ing. SNo—but he’s hit. I saw blood. You can drive ‘em away, if you can’t kill ’°em, Captain. They won’t stand much peppering like that. Keep cool—and take goodaim, He lays about right now.” A second bullet entered the body of the beast. apparently but a few inches from the heart, and again brought him to his feet, raging: “ First rate, Captain!” shouted Nick, clapping his hands with glee. ‘“‘He can’t stand many n such, Innis hastily reloaded, and was ready to fire while the beast was almost under him, bellowing with upraised snout and distended jaws. “Try his eye now, Captain; you’ve got him so clus to you. Try his eye! That’ll let the ball right into the brain.” red did not, He fired, instead, into the open gulf before him, and with what seemed at first a fatal effect. The animal dropped and rolled over, strug- gling, but rose again and flew at the tree. “Bravo! Bravo! You nearly done it that time, Captain,” shouted Nick. “ Another ball will fetch him, I reckon, if be only’don’t run— which I’m afraid he will. ven him a sore throat, I guess,” re- “T have : ie ly excited, plied Fred, eye ee were All this while the female bear, being ecnaed to repletion with food, and unprovoked by a wound, remained lying down—in a semi-coma- tose state, seeming to take little heed of what was going on. The wounded animal stood his ground until he had received two more shots—the last of which entered the neck and seemed to tap the jugular, so profuse was the flow of blood which followed. Then he began a rapid but unsteady retreat, bellowing loudly, limping, staggering and tray- eling in nearly a half circle clear beyond Nick’s tree—where he stood shaking a moment and then dropped. Ze ‘*He’s down! He’s down! And bleeding like a stuck pig,” shouted Nick, who could see him, though Fred could not. “ Now for the other!” But madame did not seem disposed to await many leaden compliments. Missing her mate, she rose and followed him, receiving only one ball (in the haunch), which merely served to quicken her speed. She found, and moaned a little while over her dying consort, and then retired, howling, into the wilderness, whence her voice came back faint and fainter, until the relieved hunters knew that it was safe to descend. Devoutly thankful for escape from the im- pending danger, and proud of an exploit which was thenceforth to render him renowned, Innis lowered himself quickly to the ground, and ex- —_ hearty greetings with his liberated riend, They hastened to the side ‘of the fallen mon- ster, which still lived, but could be safely ap- proached and dispatched, and Doyle was about giving it the finishing stroke when he drew back and handed the knife to Fred. “Do it yourself, Captain,” he said. ‘ You shall have the hull honor of killing this bear. You’ve done it all so far.” Innis complied, not without some pity for his fallen foe, and said: ‘*T should like his skin for a trophy—but we can’t stop for that.” “Take his scalp and ears, while I cut some steaks out of thecritter to take home. And let’s be goin’. We have made such a rumpus about here, 1 am afraid we shall start up somethin’ worse than grizzlies, I propose, if it suits you, Captain, that we take the shortest cut to the hillside, and down the hillside to the Sound, and that we walk along in the edge of the water the restof the way home. That may throw ’em off; though I have my misgivings even then.” “Tt’s a good plan, We'll do it.” CHAPTER XI. RESCUING A PRISONER. Tury were between two and three miles yet from camp, but they were only some sixty or eighty s from the long and steep declivity which led down to the margin of the Bottomless Sound, as Mr. Wakely had named the body of water which might more properly have been termed a lake. ot They had barely started in their changed direction when they were startled by a sharp, short cry, Pvereay abe hie a human voice, and Nick, with Indian-like instinct, drop) ped instante —

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| | | Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter, 19 ly to the ground, Fred, of course, following his example. 7 E “Té ain’t an Indian,” he said, cocking his gun, and looking around as he lay on his hands an knees. ‘‘ Leastways, he ain’t after us, or he'd keep still.” F 2 ‘Tt sounded like some one in pain,” “Yes; and it sounded far off—or rather as if it was down in a hollow.” “ But it came from the north side.” “Yes—well, there may be a descent that way, too. I think this is only a kind of ridge we are on, and that we are a great, deal nearer the north slope than the south, Tell you what!” “What?” “That may be a panther. Their cry is mighty like a human. I[ should heaty, like to shoot a nther. May I go back a little way and see, Japtain.” ed laughed, and told him to do as he chose, “Cause if there is any ‘ial danger, we ought to know what itis, Il be careful, and will be back in a jiffy.” “T may as well go with you.” Come on, We'd better keep together, of course.” They had not gone a dozen rods before Nick announced that they were close to the slope, and they approached the edge of the declivity very cautiously. Whatever they had expected to seo, we will . venture to say their anticipations were gurpamed by the reality. The long and steep hillside was but thinly wooded, and presented but little ob- struction to a view of the landscape beyond—a charming landscape, and destined, doubtless, hereafter to be dotted everywhere with the hap- py homes of civilization. A beautiful little lake, varying from half a mile to a mile in width, almost washed the base of the hill, while its inlet descended from the west, a narrow but shining stream, gracefully sinuous, and forming a large, silvery ‘‘S” upon the prairie-like plain. It was not these beauties of nature, however, which now arrested the gaze of the hunters, and held them spellbound in their tracks, but some- thing of more immediate and far deeper interest to them. A fleet of five bark canoes lay moored at the water's edge, almost directly in front of them, and at the very mouth of the inlet. These boats seemed at first view to be all empty, but there -was a single Indian on the shore, near one of them, who had probably been left as a guard, while his companions were off on the chase, But the actions of this savage were very strange. He seemed to be dancing and gesticu- lating with rage. He picked up stones and dirt on the beach, and threw them at one of the canoes; he waded into the lake, and scooping up water with his hands, threw that into the boat, and finally, rushing up to if, he seemed to deal a onal Raed at the sore inanimate object of his wrat “There's some one in the boat,” said Doyle, “6n the bottom, probably. It must be a pris- oner, and that fiend is amusing himself tor- turin’ on him—or takin’ his revenge for bein’ left on guard, while all the rest are enjoyin’ the pleasures of the chase,” Pha) “Poor fellow!” exclaimed Fred. ‘‘ Let’s res- cue him, Nick.” Innis’s first smupaiee at the sight of the canoes, had been to fly—but he forgot his fears, in sym- pathy for the wretched object before him. Nick had meanwhile begun to climb a, tree, saying: ‘‘I want to see whether the captive is an Injin or a white man. Ef he’s an Injin he ain’t worth reskin’ our lives for.” ‘* Here—take this!” said Fred, in great excite- ment, and handing up a pocket spy-glass which he always carried. The Tennesseean ascended to a high hough— used the glass for an instant, and then descended quickly and in silence. “T's a white man! A Hoang chap—face all bloody!” he said, wrathfully. ‘‘ Now, what do you a Fred's lips were tightly compressed for a mo- pos OTs eyes flashing—and then he spoke sol- emnly: “We will rescue him! So help us, God!” * That’s the ring of the true metal! Iknewit was in you! Come on! The first thing to be done is to put a bullet through the head of that savage.” w Of course,” * And I want to get a little nearer for that. Not but what I could do it well enough from here—but I want to do it so hecan’tscreech, you see.” “ Yes—certainly.” ‘* Plump through the brain.” Nick looked as delighted at the job before him as he possibly could have been, gourmand as he was, if he had been about to sit down to a Thanksgiving dinner, and had the odor of the orig and plum-pudding already in his nos- trils. They descended about half-way down the hill, and while doing so, they heard the faint report of two guns in an easterly direction, “They're far off,” whispered Doyle, stopping to listen, ‘‘and they seem to be down on the , ee that’s the reason we hayen’t heard them ore. ; “ Hunting buffaloes, perhaps.” “ Perhaps.” ‘We are about right now,” said Nick coolly. * Stand still a moment.” The Indian was seated now on the bow of the boat, which was drawn up a little way on the shore. His rage seemed to be sated, or his strength exhausted, His back was toward the hunters, and his face toward the prisoner; and as Doyle raised his rifle, Innis stepped a little aside with his glass to get a view of the position. “Stay!” he said. “The prisoner is almost exactly inrange, Ain’t you afraid—” The roport of the rifle was his answer, and the savage fell forward into the boat. : “You shouldn’t speak to a feller at sich a time,” said Nick, proceeding to reload {before uitting his tracks. ‘‘You came nigh sp’ilin’ the finest drawn sight I ever tu’k in my life.” “But I wasafraid— He wasleaning forward with his head so low, and you shooting down, you see,” ‘* Bless you! I know’d where the t’other man was. The bullet didn’t go within two inches of him, eyen if it passed clean through the Injin’s- Poors

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80 head, which isn’t probable. I could ha’ shot a squirrel’s nose off at that distance without dis- a ec} on him much, neither.” ll this was rapidly and excitedly said, and then the two men ran down the hillside as fast as they could go—for they knew that their own danger was now most imminent. *“What—do you—suppose—that monster was doing—when—you fired?” asked Fred as they ran, the words being jolted out of him by his violent motion. “ Don’t know—some deviltry.” **-Yes—he was poking—the other one— with a ae stick—in the face. hen they reached the canoe, & singular and affecting sight presented itself. The Indian had fallen over, quite dead, upon the bound man, who, vainly striving to release himself from the hideous contact, and to catch sight of his hoped rescuers, had struggled partly up from his re- cumbent position, and was looking wildly around, with a face covered with blood and tears. “ Take courage, my friend!” said Fred, ‘‘ we've come to free you.” “Thank God!” murmured the young man fee- Wy and then fell back unconscious, he insensible prisoner was quietly lifted out and laid on the beach—the thongs of hide which tightly bound his hands and feet were cut—some water was dashed in his face—and he revived. ‘“‘ Water! water!” were his first words; and he tried to crawl to the cooling element, which, with a refinement of cruelty, had been denied to his raging and feverish thirst, even when gliding for many a mile over its mocking wave. Fred sprung to the boats, and in one of them found a gourd cup, which he brought brimming to the sufferer, and allowed him sparingly to partake. “Thank God again, and you, dear friends, whoever you are,” he said indistinctly. ‘ But we must not stay here another instant. There are twenty fierce warriors in this party, and some of them may be within sight of us now.” “Come on, then! We will help you up the hill,” said Fred; ‘* our camp is but a few miles distant, and you will gain strength as we pro- Butit was impossible. Mr. Vibbard (such was tho stranger’s name) could not even stand. The ligature upon his limbs had been so tight that his feet and ankles were numb and swollen, and the attempt to support himself upon them gave him excessive pain. He looked appealingly, yet hopelessly, at his rescuers when this alarming fact was ascer- tained. ‘“‘ We'll put him back in one of the boats and row up the inlet,” said Innis, ‘‘ Quick, Doyle, help—lift him in. Perhaps when the circulation is fully restored he can walk; if not we will find a hiding-place for the bay volt “ That's it, Captain. me on!” The young man looked his gratitude as they carried and deposited him quietly in one of the largest canoes, and he said in a feeble voice: “Tf they come—you must run and save your own lives, and I shall be no worse off than I was before, You cannot fight against so many,” Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. No time was wasted in talking, for all felt the necessity of haste. The sun was low in the west, and the hunters would soon return—even if not recalled by the sound of Nick’s rifle. That, however, even if heard, it was hoped would not awaken any suspicion, as the slain Indi? > “ad had a gun, and might naturally be suppdséd to have fired at some passing game. His gun, which was an old battered rifle, of little use, they took, of course, together with his knife and tomahawk, which might come into play; and as they were about hurriedly casting off, Nick said, jumping out: * Hold on a minute, till I set him up,” He ran back to the slain man, and raised the body toa sitting position in the bow of the boat, propping up his drooping head by placing under is chin the very stick, sharp pointed, with which he had been pricking his prisoner, when death so swiftly overtook him. ‘Now, he looks quite natteral like,” said Nick, jumping into the waiting boat, and taking the oars. ‘You see, they won’t be so apt to hurry home if they see him sittin’ there all night, And an Injen can see a great way.” * Very true; I only hope they won’t see us,” added Vibbard, faintly. ‘‘There will be no hope for me if they do—for they can run twice as fast as you can row, especially up that crooked inlet.” A distant whoop responded, as it were, to this remark, striking terror into the hearts of the fugitives, and Innis, raising his spy-glass with a hand that slightly shook, said quickly: “They are coming, sure enough, on the full run—the whole band—and not more than a mile off. They have seen us, of course.” “ Run—run, then—and save yourselves!” ex- claimed Vibbard, ‘‘ Take to the woods! You can do nothing for me!” Innis and Doyle looked for a moment into each other’s eyes. Escape in their present mode was clearly impossible. But to leave a fellow- being in such a state it was too horrible, doomed. as he would be to the direst torture, in expia- tion of the Indian’s death. } “‘Back.to the shore!” said F ed. (They had barely left the beach, and it was an instant’s work to regain it.) ‘‘Perhaps he can walk now, and we can assist him till we can find some hiding-place, or some defensible position.” It was impossible. The hapless youth could not support himself on his feet, and to drag him up tko steep hill, which it was difficult to climb unburdened, was clearly impossible. As to the plains, there was no refuge there. “Tt’s a terrible bad job, Captain. I reckon we'll have to leave him, after all,” said Doyle, ‘fand no time to be lost either.” He looked anxiously eastward as he spoke, where the savage k was now in full view, swiftly but silently advancing. The single whoop which had been heard had doubtless been a signal of alarm to the band, by the first discoverer of the a Sa but after that the | profoundest silence had been maintained by the fleet-footed foe. A look of anguish was on Freds face—Vib- bard was still urging them to fly before it was too late—and Nick, with foot and roy ad- vanced, stood ready for a leap up the hi ae ee ne at mE: i ce ili

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‘4 Sn Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. 2h “Go—go—my friends!” repeated Vibbard, you can do nothing more for me—unless you will, in mercy, give me a bullet from your re- volver. It will be but an instant’s work, and ’ surely not a crime in you or me.” FP poke imploringly, and bent his head as if Sue of receiving the fearful boon he had begged. Fe mposstble !” replied Fred, shuddering. “The other one, then,” said Vibbard, anxious- ly, ‘‘Look the other way, but an instant, my friend, while he does it. It will be the greatest act of mercy that you ever accorded to a miser- able mortal,” “God of Heaven—no! Nick, there isa chance yet! A chance for us all! Why had we not thought of it before?” The thought came like inspiration. “ Quick!” he continued; “lift him back into the boat. ‘We will try to escape down the lake —drag all the canoes after us—and scuttle them, as soon as we get a good offing. Then they will have no means of pursuit.” “You're Captain, and we'll try ” replied Nick, as they lifted Vibbard back, ‘but J think it’s too late. They'll begin to fire in a minute.” CHAPTER XII. A RACE WITH INDIANS, Tury did try. The corp-e of the slain Indian was pitched like a log into the water—the four empty canoes were shoved off, and turned around, and their bows being brought close to the stern of the other boat, Innis grasped their short cables (made of twisted bark), and Doyle, springing to the oars, i vigorously outward, dragging the tiny fleet after them. No sooner had the savages witnessed this bold exploit than ahd sent up a wild shout of rage, and although still nearly half a mile distant, two or three stopped running to fire at the boats; but their bullets went wide of the mark, skipping across the water many yards ahead of the - tives. “Can't Vibbard hold them ropes?” asked Nick, eagerly, when he saw this. Yes—yes—my right hand is strong and well as ever.” “Then, Captain, you take the oars a minute— and let me have a pop at ’em.” \ The disabled man crawled forward, and took the roe Inuis climbed over him to the oars, and Nick, between the two, raised his rifle. “Stiddy, a minute,” he said, dropping on his knees; ‘‘she topples a little—stiddy! Hold the oars out, and sit still! You, Vibbard, there, don’t wriggle so!” “All right.” ‘There she is—she’s stiddy, now—don’t move afinger. I’ve got him now!” The report followed, and the foremost man of the band fell to the earth, pierced by the ball of Nick’s unerring rifle. A yellof rage followed from the foe—an in- voluntary shout of triumph from Fred—and Nick, proceeding to reload, said: “Good for somethin’, ain’t I, Captain?” “Good? Why, youre worth your weight in gold, Nick.” ~ “No—I ain't. I ain’t worth more than my weight in lead—and I wish J had it here now to run into bullets for them fellows—for I hav’n’t got any too ge a og mle “Down! Down! ey’re goin’ to fire!” said the watchful Vibbard, lowering his own head beneath the gunwale. Fred (who had resumed rowing), and Nick followed his example, and the volley went harm- lessly by—a few of the balls striking the rear boats. “ That’s comin’ onpleasantly near,” said Nick. who bad reloaded. ‘Let's return the salute. I don’t like to be outdone in politeness—I don’t.” The canoe was again BS oe and steadied— but when the vigilant and far seeing enemy dis- covered the fatal rifle again leveled, they drop- ped simultanvously to the ground, and not a few of them went rolling over and over, in order more effectually to elude the aim of the terrible Tennesseean, “Taint no use—that ain’t,” said Nick, “That foremost feller will roll right against my bullet. “You see if he don’t.” He did. He was the only ore that did not rise and run to cover after Nick fired, and again a shout of glee went up from the boat, followed by a discordant yell from the shore. But the Indians bad run much faster than the boat had been propelled, and they had, of course, materially diminished the distance between themselves and the ss: hair thus far only to their own cost. But having now reached the head of the lake, not far from the point where the canoes had been moored—they fired a few rounds from the shelter of some bushes, to the imminent danger of their adversaries, The balls struck all around them—one passed through Doyle's hat—and they did not dare to show any portion of their bodies above the edge of the boat, lest it should become a target for the savages, The design of the quick-witted foe seemed to be to keep them from using the oars, so that the boats would gradually drift shoreward—there being a light wind blowing up the lake, which must inevitably, though very slowly waft the boats back almost to the place whence they had started. A consultation was held by the three men, crouching in the bottom of the canoe, The peril was pronounced great, and momentarily ph wen The oars must be put in motion at Aza «Tell you what,” said Nick, ‘‘ the other canoes are too much of a drag upon us. We must abandon them.” They'll swim out and get them.” “T know it, It can’t be helped. Nobody can go into them to scuttle ’em in this storm of bullets, and we must shake ’em off.” “Then what?” “Then Tl take the oars and row for dear life. If I ain’t hit—every minute will make us more safe, and six minutes will place us out of their reach. Night isn’t far off, and that will favor us.” ai “ You are right, Nick—in all but one thing,” replied Innis, resolutely. ‘ The duty is as much mine as yours. I will draw lots with you as to who shall take first innings at the oars for sh strokes—after which we'll take turns. Your life is as dear to you as mine to me,” 4 dit Cn tPA A BOD SAR a SS Sn

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Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter, “No, Captain. I’m a better rower than you —and I’ve faced more bullets, Besides, I can almost lay down and row, which you can’t.” ‘The post of danger for which you contend ought to be mine,” said Vibbard, mournfully, “and most gladly would I take it, if it were ible. You have placed yourselves in this readful jeopardy for me, and I can do nothing to assist you.” “Never mind,” replied Nick. ‘‘ There’s no time for words now. at do you say, Captain? Shall he let go?” “ Yes.” “* Cast off, then,” said Doyle, “Not yet,” replied Vibbard. ‘We must at least take the oars out, and J can do that.” He drew the vessels up one by one, alongside of the leading canoe, seized the oars and pulled them in, and then cast off the boat. His appear- ance in a sitting por was the signal for a fire ‘‘all along the line,” but he persevered, un- flinching, until his self-imposed task was done, and then dropped heavily back to the bottom of the canoe. ‘‘He’s drawn their fire now,” said Nick, seiz- ing the oars; ‘‘ we won’t argufy about the first innings, but I’ll take ’em, an’ ef they’re goin’ to hit me, they must be pretty quick about it.” The little boat now re and danced across the water,impelled by the Tennesseean’s vigorous strokes—and it was a full minute before a gun was fired from the shore. Then came a volley, and in the midst of it the oarsman tumbled over backward, to the great consternation of his friends, who at that ter- rible moment gave up all for lost, : ‘All right!” he exclaimed, quickly regaining his position. ‘‘I only dodged at the first flash, but I didn’t mean to go clear over. All right!’ Again he leant to the oars, and with rapid and powerful sweeps, he added nearly a furlong to their distance from the foe before another discharge ensued, which, like the first, proved innocuous. “T reckon we're nearly safe now,” he said. “TY don’t believe a ball would go through into the vitals if it should hit a feller here.” But it was several minutes yet before Nick relaxed his efforts, and lay upon his oars with a sense of security. ‘We're safe for the present,” he said, em- hasizing the words; ‘‘ but jes’ look back there, Kney'ro dividin’ into two parties to follow us— one on each side of the lake—and when they catch ‘up with us on shore, they won’t bemore’n a quarter of a milo off on either side, even if we ts quite in the middle,” e resumed rowing as he spoke, “ But we have a good start,” replied Innis, Nick shook his head. “T don’t want to crouk,” he added.‘ But we may as well look things in the face. An Iajin can run a mile in seven minutes. That's nearly ae ee as it’s possible to row a canoe, here’s lots of shelter for ’em in them scatter- ed trees and bushes, and when they’ve once overtuk us, they can run.along parallel to the boat, dodgin’ behind trees, and pick us off at their leisure without exposin’ themselves,” ‘But the night—” F ' “Tt will be clear and moonlight, Captain. *Sides that, they’ll overtake us long before dark. See how the imps run,” _ “It looks bad, certainly, But we must trust in that kind Providence which has thus far pro- tected us, Let me now take your place for s they changed places, a groan from youn Vibbard attracted Mention at on farnt to him, they found him trying to stanch the blood flowing from a severe wound in the shoulder. He had been hit while securing the oars of the cast-off canoes, and had tried to keep it secret, lest he should add to the alarm and trouble of his friends, whose energies were already so fully tasked. Nick bound up the wound with some skill,!and pronounced it to be not a dangerous one, but said the ball ought to be extracted, and that he would undertake to do it, as soon as the present emergency had passed, if it ever did. “There’s an island,” whispered Vibbard, “just beyond that headland—and more than a mile and a half from here, I should think—per- haps not that.” Aninland! Pull then, Captain, with a will All depends on our gettin’ there afore they git abreast of us. Pull with a will! I'll take is oars again myself in about two minutes.” There was a bend in the lake, around a sort of promontory, which concealed their anticipated pace of refuge from view—but Vibbard, who ad come up the lake with his captors on the preceding day, had noticed and remembered the locality. In answer to Nick’s eager inquiries, he said there were trees and bushes upon it, but that it was very small, not being more than fifty or sixty rods long. ‘“The smaller the better,” said Doyle, ‘‘so we can get foothold upon it and find shelter. It will be the more easily defended,” The prospect was a dismal one at the best, for it was evident that so small a territory, lying so near the mainland on either side, could be com- manded on all points by the guns of the enemy and their only constant and close concealmen could give even temporary safety. <A siege would soon starve them out—and all knew the untiring vigilance of an Indian foe, when stim- ulated by hoped revenge for a slain brother. - Still, temporary safety was something, and every effort was made to gain the wished asylum with speed and without further damage. The race was exciting and doubtful. The enemy, no longer ar a Abe 3 concealment, rushed alon the shore with shouts and yells, which evinced their confidence of a speedy triumph. When the island came in sight they were not eighty rods behind the fugitives, and were rap- idly gaining. They did not stop to fire, nor did Nick, who now had the oars, and was bending like a Hercules to the task, dare for a moment to intermit his labors. Innis and Vibbard looked on in amazement. The light canoe seemed to leap over the water, which foamed under her prow and hissed an boiled in her wake. That such violent exertions could not long continue was evident, but in reply to a hint to spare himself a little, Nick replied, panting: “No; it’s neck or nothing now, If they get yes BE vA

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Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter, abreast of us there’ll be no more rowing—and we'll never set foot on the island. Twenty guns can’t all miss, at such a range.” Innis was meanwhile surveying the foe with his glass, first on one shore and then on the other, and he could compare them to nothing bat a pack of yelping wolves as they rushed for- ward, gliding in and out among the trees and bushes whicb lined the shore at intervals, “Give them a shot—on each side,” said Doyle, **it may hold them in check a little.” Fred took his rifle. “T sha’n’t hit them,” he said. ‘No telling. A bullet is sometimes guided, I think. Fire away.” Innis did 0, without visible effect, other than a momentary pause of the pursuers, “Try the other side now, with my rifle. It carries further, Aim at the middle of the gang.” cra Seized the glass, and watched the re- sult. A savage tumbled headlong, and the whole pack stopped and gathered around him. “That's the talk, Captain,” shouted Nick, pausing a moment on his oars, ‘‘ Aim the other ee now with your empty gun. They’ve seen it Fred didso, and the watchful savages, warned by the fate of their comrade on the opposite shore, dropped like logs Been the ground. **So—so; we can rest a little now,” exclaimed ei hes laughing. ‘Let them lay there, if they wi They did not, of course, lie long, but crawling snakelike, to shelter, they rose and resumed their race, a little further from shore, dodging behind the trees, and stooping beside the low bushes which lay between them and the water. The other party, being also again in motion, Nick, much rested, resumed the oars, but no longer with any fears about reaching the island which now seemed to be fairly floating toward ie fugitives, so rapidly was its distance less- en The savages seemed also to yield the point, as far as the race was concerned, for they slacken- ed their speed, and slunk away from the shore, knowing full well that the asylum which the white men were compelled to accept was a trap more easily entered than escaped from. CHAPTER XIII. A CUNNING INDIAN FOILED, r _ Tux refuge was quickly gained, and whatever their destined doom, it was a wonderful relief to tread the solid earth, and to rest, panting, upon its velvet breast, beneath the shade of sheltering shrubbery, which concealed them from distant view. . Here Vibbard, who had been tenderly lifted out, and laid upon the green sward by his com- poe told them for the first time the story of is capture. He had belonged toa ae of miners, who were located about a dozen miles further north, on a mountain gully which ran into the outlet of this very lake. This stream, which was of considerable width, was their frequent resort, poth for bathing and fishing, and three of their party had been surprised, while engaged in the latter amusement, by this band of savages, who were bound on a hunting expedition up the e. Two of their number had been shot dead, and himself slightly wounded and captured, and that he had been reserved for torture he judged. from various indications. In fact, he said, the unprovoked aggressions of the miners upon small bands of roving savages had been so fre- quent, that they had become greatly exasper- ated, and no mercy was to be hoped for at their hands, “When will men learn the law of human kindness, to which all hearts, even the most un- tutored are open?” asked Innis. “T don’t know about that,” replied Nick, morosely. ‘‘ An Injin is an Injin, and he’s na- terally cruel; and I’d shoot’em wherever I could find ’em.” “Tt is this estimate of them, and this treat- é ment of them, that makes them what they are—,* at least, in a great degree. They are human bone: and you may be assured that they have kindly and generous sympathies like other men.” But there was little time to moralize. Hunger began to press, and fortunately there was a good meal for all in the bear steaks which Innis car- ried in his coat pocket. <A fire was built ina hollow, and supper was speedily prepared, and eaten with great gusto, and there was something even reserved for the morrow. What the enemy’s designs were it was difli- cult to guess. They kept out of sight, and with the exception of an occasional bullet, sent at random to the island, they remained quiet. It was a moonlight night, and flight was evidently impracticable, and a couch of bushes, bush-cov- ered, was fitted up for Innis and Vibbard. “You shall sleep quietly to-night, and Tl watch,” Nick said. ‘‘The red-skins may have got hold of some of them boats by this time, and they might make us a visit before morning. They’re very, polite people, and very attentive to strangers. Always call on’em when they move into their neighborhood.” The good-natured fellow would hear of no other arrangements; he dressed Vibbard’s wounds, and when both the young men were bestowed to their leafy couch, he covered them with bushes. ; “You'll call us if it clouds up enough for flight,” said Fred. ‘Oh, yes; Pll see that you wake if there is need, Sleep as sound as you choose. I shall walk across the island once in fifteen minutes, all night long, and keep watch of both shores. So never fear a surprise. If anything shakes you in the night, it ain’t an Injin—it’s me.” “Allright. Good-night.” Nick Doyle was reasonably vigilant. He patrolled the island nearly all night, occasionally visiting the sleepers and the boat. But Nick’s apprehensions were, unfortunately, confined to one view of danger, 1. e,, an invasion by means of the recovered boats. Notwithstanding his boast- ing, he was not quite pr ed for all the dar- ing and subtlety of an Indian brave. ad he used Innis’s glass, which he held in contempt, insisting that he could see better with- out than with it, he might possibly haye discoy~

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1 Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. $6 out a boat than a red-skin with one. Good-by boys, if I don’t come back, but I feel as if I had the strength of twenty giants in me now.” Remonstrance was unheeded, perhaps un- heard, for Nick was ina furor of excitement. caused partly, no doubt, by the fact that he ha been outwitted by the savage, and that the threatened calamity was due to his remissness as a sentinel. 3 ‘ Tightening the belt which held his hatchet and knife, (of course his rifle and revolver were discarded) he took a running leap into the lake, and then struck boldly out with a strong, equable motion, and at a rate of progress which gave some promise of success, yet failed to inspire Louis and Vibbard with anything like hope. They watched him breathlessly; he gained rap- idly, but he was far from shore, and the chase was very much further. When about midway between the boat and the beach, he rose partly out of the water, and sent forth a succession of terrific shouts, such as he had sometimes joined in, during a charge on the field of battle. They were designed to notify the Indian of pursuit, and to drive him from his prize; and there is lit- tle doubt that they astonished, if they did not frighten the savage, for he sent back no response, unless it was lost in the prolonged war-cry which presently arose from the eastern shore. The puzzled warriors on the mainland did not fire—for they did not understand the position of affairs, but they continued for many minutes to “make night hideous” with their discordant yells, Nick, in the mean time, increased his ef- forts and his speed. seemed as if he had had a fund of reserved power, which he was just bringing into play. @ was soon within a dozen rods of the boat, and his reward, shouts, doubtless, caused him to seem much nearer to the red-man, for the motion of the little ve&sel immediately slackened, and then they ceased altogether. It was evident that she was abandoned, and that the half-exhausted Tndian had no mind to try the prowess of his foe inthe water. The memory of the sturdy senti- nel, as he had seen him on the shore, probably did not present an inviting object to attack, At all events, he fled ba ave and the tri- umphant Nick soon climbed, dripping, into the deserted boat, which he put in rapid motion for theisland, = How breathlessly his friends on shore had watched all this—how their prayers went up for his safety—how their gratitude now gushed forth—how they swung their hats and hurrahed and how they hugged their heroic friend, in their transports, as he leaped ashore—all this need scarcely be told. “Nonsense,” said Nick, in reply to these at tentions, “’twarn’t much, But if he’d had the pluck to stop and fight, it would have been some- thin’ of a tussle, I dessay,” The threatened loss had been so at, the danger in all respects had been so imminent, that the besieged men began to look upon their hoo condition as one of comparative safety, hey had a boat—they had a little food, and might, perhaps, procure more, Vibbard was recovering the use of his limbs, and they had only to be vigilant in guarding their little terri- ro tory, not easily assailable, and to await the first dark night to effect their escape. These calculations, in fact, proved correct. The afternoon of that very day, which was now near its dawn, gave warning, or rather gave promise of a storm, Heavy clouds skirted the west at sundown, and ere midnight, spread to the zenith, and overhung the whole sky like a pall. Nothing could have been more favorable for flight—for, although the winds were high, and the waves were rough, they had little fear that their dancing canoe would not ride the billows in safety. ‘Tf she capsizes, all we’ve got to do is to swim round and right her ag’in, as the Injuns do,” said the exultant Nick. About twelve o clock they embarked, steering directly up the lake, and preserving perfect silence, except when the ex-soldier now and then gave way to an involuntary chuckle. “Tell you what,” he said, in a whisper, as he rested a minute from the labor of the oars, ‘‘ it’s my private opinion that theyll guess this out and that some of ’em will be up around the head of the lake, and especially about the inlet.” “Pye thought of that,” replied Vibbard. ““So we won’t go there; we'll stop half a mile this side, on the east shore, and cut across the plains for the hills and the woods.” “Tm afraid Vibbard can’t ‘cut’ much,” re- plied Fred, ‘‘Well, there'll be no great hurry, probably. He can walk slowly.” **T can run, I think,” said the young man, ‘though with some pain. The swelling is sub- siding, and the circulation seems to be restored.” Nick’s plan was followed, and with perfect success. 0 one appeared to dispute their pass- age to the hills, which were gained in safety, and although their progress was slow up the steep ascent, and through the woods (which were utterly dark, and were resonant with the ery of panthers and wolves), they reached the met long before day. akely and Terence were already UP, and re- eeived them with inexpressible delight. They had been out all the bea day, searching for their missing friends, and their anxiety and alarm had become extreme. This, of course, terminated the mining cam- paign of our heroes. They could not remain onger in their present quarters in safety.mor had they any desire to do so. “16 season was far advanced—their gains had been ve large, and they proceeded at once to brea! up their encampment, and prepare for de- parture, little dreaming that the months which had been uring such a golden harvest into their eater’ miracles for them in another quarter: The rapidity with which San Francisco became a large and wealthy city, and her soil more valuable than that of the time-worn metropolises of the old world, is yet the standing marvel of the age, and when Innis and Jotham returned to the capital, more richly freighted than be- fore, if was to find themselves, by the unexam- pled rise of their real estate, among the very eaviest capitalists of the city. They at once de- voted themselves to the business of improving and selling their real estate, an employment which ~ er ee ne tow P aps were working even

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\ 26 Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter, lngt = RS occupied them fully for a considerable portion of another year. Leaving them thus engaged, let us return to take a view of some events qeigh were in the mean time occurring in New ork. CHAPTER XIV. FROM FRISCO TO NEW YORK. THIRTEEN months ‘had rolled by since the de- parture of Innis from New York, without bring- ing a word of tidings from him to his friends at home, when at length rumors began to arrive that he was rapidly amassing a fortune in El Dorado. Still there were no letters. But one morning, as Seth Whitman was sitting in rather a dull mood in his office (he now had an office of his own), drumming the same old dismal tattoo, and mentally debating whether he could afford to take his sweetheart to the opera, to hear a new singer, an express agent came in, and de- posited. a dirty-looking package on the table, remarking only that the charges were paid. As the messenger hurried out, Seth glanced lazily at the parcel, without rising from his seat. “Winter stockings from home, I guess,” he said, poking at it with his cane, But it felt like something heavier. “ Chestnuts,” said Seth, giving it another poke, But it did not feel like chestnuts, He rose, yawning—took out his knife to cut the strings, and lifted up the parcel. “Pluto! how heavy,” he said. ‘‘ Joe has been playing off one of his pranks here; I shouldn’t wonder now if this was a flat-iron.” He cut string after string, and tore off wrap- per after wrapper, until his patience was well- nigh exhausted, and there lay glittering before his expanding eyes a large lump of solid and burnished gold, . It’s from Fred Innis!” said Seth, ‘‘ and it’s for me!” and he danced around the room, gold in hand, for a few minutes, like a madman, Next, he caught up his hat, and ran to the as- sayer’s to learn the weight and value of his rize. It was not a native specimen, but had m. run into its presont shape for convenience of transportation, and its value proved to be over two thousand dollars. “*T guess 1 can afford to go to the opera,” said Seth to {himself, as he went gayly home- ward Rumors*®»gan to increase of Innis’s great prosperity in California; it was said that, after remarkable success at the mines, he had return- ed to San Francisco, become a land speculator, and realized a L pee fortune. The story of the lump of gold which he had sent to Whitman became current, and hundreds flocked to Seth to know if it was really true; to see it; handle it, and inquire what tidings came with it of the fortunate adventurer. It was astonishing to see how many people became suddenly interested in Mr. Innis’s welfare. Even old Twiggs, half of whose fortune had been swamped by a specula- tion in connection with a scoundrel, who had given him the ‘‘ very best security,” and the other half of which was in imminent jeopardy from the same cause—even old Twiggs became greatly solicitous ‘‘ for poor Fred’s” welfare. ‘His father was my best friend, as I have often told you,” he said to his daughter, ‘‘and ¥ it is my duty to be his, If Frederick Innis wants any assistance, I am ready to help him personally, and our bank will afford him all business facilities that ho may require. I shall write to him at once.” “Oh, papa, I would not,” said Kitty; she was about to add that he would make himself appear very ridiculous, but she dared not, {- “Why not? It is best to be on good terms ‘ Ci with him, He may be serviceable.” ; \ ‘But you know—” i t “ Know what?” ; “You did not help him, nor his father,” stam- * 86 mered Kitty, desperately. an “N-no—it was not quite convenient, then; but We Iam going to ed rao ain't I? How ridicu- ; lously,you talk! What more would you have?” Sai ‘“Yes, now, when he does not want help.” the “ Besides that, young Whitman said that Pret Frederick did nof know Pathe 3 about hi Part having applied to me in his behalf, and ney Me would know it. Then I always meant to he » the . him as soon as it was convenient. TI shall wr; tohim, ‘The truth is, Kitty, Fred is a first-ray ‘ami] clever fellow—as his father was before him etur; and I always thought he would get along.” ; ea Twiggs wrote, {t leula; Time passed on, and the next arrival fry lat t California brought a letter from Innis to W..- Vill ee; man, more than confirming all the reports 0: r We t extraordinary success, and inclosing a drg*t vw heer his young friend for five thousand dollars... .- ‘The } “Do not hesitate, dear Seth,” he wrote, ‘to © ding] accept this as freely as it is gladly given;and WY liona:; be assured it is only an earnest of what ? in- Uniary tend to do for you. I call myself, to-¢ iy, a & atly i, millionaire, and am about closing up my 4. fairs aie He here, and returning home, Leave no eff¢'t un- acy ¢ tried to ascertain who was my generous ¢elper re “1 Cour in the hour of need, for my happiness wil. de in- Ji hile ¢ complete until I am able to requite tha noble cd sa“ for act. “ds rer Seth now went nearly crazy, He ardly fon Of Se knew whether he rejoiced most for hii self or ove Innj for Innis, for the sum he had received, seo Pr dead tell likean immense fortune to him, and he , nmedi- On? wig ately employed himself in procuring anc ending hs Jeo: | considerable presents to his brothers an | sisters fbn) go in the country. After this, he set ‘{ ‘nestly puld be dong about the task assigned him by his “end, of ploniggt cok LA Bor learning the name of his benefactor; b it all bi Hoi 5 efforts proving futile, and not feeling t liber tiv, oO” Ione x, ty to take any steps which would ~.ake the ([Y°S! toulq’ affair public, ha resolved to postpo:y furthe ©Tck« terra inquiries until the return of Innis. bye 44/4 may! his event was not long postponed. Frederic Ub. 46 T Eos returned, and took qu rs at a foshionab , Of Course, | hotel, where his self-styled friends ¢ _ a flock« around him, together with a few like \Vhitma’ whose friendship was genuine, and who hearti! rejoiced in his success for his own sal ».. ertainly ———e ~m CHAPTER Xv, & 5 So Lamas DISAPPOINTING A SCHEME. receiv}. Kable. yw Mr. Twices preserved his co’ sistency gyq Y)*'? Innis’s character. He called upon Innis— oe, TAY abountod *atronizin gold-headed cane and all—not witha deal thy" derick, a pomposity, which was partly the re: ~\t of ha fay, 7." "tre of mag t quite, alling Gowen. in crWheh niLy. % ‘ “*h he f He repeated the offer of services’ shich he on - Pet, pres ar are Of she and partly assumed to prop up hy. fi

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a eT a ise = Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. 27 made by letter (the letter had never been re- ceived), and said he should be always happy to oblige the son of an old friend. Innis refrained, with an effort, from a bitter reply, and bowed his visitor out. But this semblance of respect proved far worse for Twiggs than more open coldness; for being obtuse to all the signs cf Frederick’s disgust, he went away fully persuaded that he stood high in the young man’s esteem, and resolved to make the most of his influence, He*soon talked him- self into the belief that Innis was his protege, m- and led many to believe that the young man was under great obligations to bim. yu ‘©We must make a party for him at once,” he ou- said to Kitty, “there is no telling what may be 3” the result, ou and he,I believe, used to be aa good friends; you were always taking his t art. es Kitty blushed crimson, but protested against ev the party, urging its absurdity, on the ground He that Mr, Innis had never been intimate in their bri family, and had not even called there since his (ray - return from California. hin? “1. Never mind that; we must not be too par- 4 ticular,” said Twiggs; “ besides, we do not sa ts hat the party is made especially for him. C) 1 fre vill certainly do it at once, and all that you will SNE ive to do, my dear, will be to make sure and ii Ke ar to the best possible advantage.” ar fw ‘The banker’s anticipations began to run ex- a es Let but his daughter marry the ate rkto ht, and his own former pe- en “and H which had indeed become “1 in- what? tog Airs mee "5 WDE ) eb, alper one 2 {0- 3 Wis opie ingularly enough, reached the yaa, ear, of Seth Whitman, who, red with wrath, 4 ardly. flev! to Innis, and told him what he had meant hi ‘self OF nev: to tell, all the particulars of his applica- ae a8 seomed! tion?o Twiggs, and his cold, heartless, taunting se) h ymed reje@ ‘ion. j d be 4 Saing 1S on’t go to the hypocritical old toady’s,” he iS pe { TE gaidbidon’'t go near him, the selfish, narrow- ee rf es ae mitt 4 cold- looded, close-fisted, scheming, sq CDG & lothttg— Dis pat. all BY e How long Seth’s string of vituperative adjec- Ors bet tives) tould have become is uncertain, but Fred- erick :terrupted him. “/1 may spare your anathemas when I tell you t._1t I know him, se ee og oh I did not, of course, know of the fact of which you d have i#formed me, but it isin keeping with his at &® MN" gock( charac, and [am not at all surprised at it.” i q y “BUG you will not go” “T certainly shall not, and I hayo already writes my regret.” “Go: \—capital, glorious!” a Uns; ‘kable was Twiggs’s mortification on cv. ft receivix'? Innis’s note. He had talked so much, SCHEME, + tency and. so*atronizingly, and to so many people his, As = cra’ abou i vaderick, and had promised to so many innit ogy, deal the pie’! ure of meeting him at his house, that he sot With. of b® felt quil/@overwhelm i vy the Fe “paling Cicule whih he foresaw in store for him. Kitty. op up Bi: ‘on her pe :t, without being at all to blame, bad servic? jnicb he ‘an equal’ sare of shame and grief to undergo. with the prospective rid- err A CY Ne He could not have shown his indifference for her ina more marked manner, Kitty was very sad, but uncomplaining. The party was now something to be endured, aud to be got through with in the best way pos- sible, She deported herself irreproachably well, showing no discomposure of any kind, and com- ee, neutralizing, by her gentle and lady-like deportment, every laugh and sneer that was ley- eled against her, Not so Twiggs, who made his mortification apparent by a thoasand awkward explanations which proved nothing, excepting his own sense of his ridiculous situation. About this time, Mr, Chink, who had never been able to free himself from the fascinations of Kitty, ventured to repeat his proposals to her father, hoping that time might have wrought some change in her feelings, and willing, as he said, to take her hand, and trust to the future to obtain her heart. Twiggs pea accepted the offer in her behalf, never doubting that now, in their season of ad- versity, his daughter would readily comply. But Kitty refused, and was resolute and fixed in her refusal, and a domestic scene raged for a week in the house of Twiggs, growing each day more violent, until it resulted in an entire rup- ture of all social ties. Kitty was taunted, was ridiculed, was denounced in the bitterest terms known to Bs ea abel rage, and was finally threatened with an apprenticeship to a trade, if she still continued uncomplying. “That, at least, is beyond your power,” she replied mildly. ‘*I am of age, and the law gives you no oe to control me,’ “Nor does it compel me to support you. I thank you for reminding me of it. "This day, if you continue obstinate, you shall uit my house.” “ This hour,” said Kitty, flushed with wrath; “this Hour I will quit a house where I have heard language which no lady should ever hear, even from a stranger.” Kitty left the house within one hour, and un- bene : t er mother had virtually sided with her father in his coercive measures, and neither believed, even after she had gone, that she would continue unyielding. They flattered themselves that the violent crisis which had now arrived would re- sult favorably, and they looked hourly for her ee ney and sat Sete ; But Kitty did not return. She sought shelter in the house of a maternal aunt, who fully jus tified her conduct, and gave her a hearty wel- come. Her father, after in vain waiting a few days for her return, sought out her retreat. with a view of renewing his persuasions, bu when she learned his errand she utterly refused @ see him. She did more—she wrote a letter to Mr. Chink, so entirely definite and decisive in its refusal, so dignified and noble in its appeal to him to cease addresses which had become a per- secution, that that gentleman at once took her part against himself, and utterly refused to negotiate further with Twiggs, whom he ac- cused of having sti deceived him in regard to the state of his daughter’s feelings. ‘About a week after she had taken up her abode with her aunt’s family, Kitty, oppressed with many powerful thoughts, went out one bright morning, designing to call upon a friend,

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Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. who lived about a mile distant. Nothing was further from her thoughts than the expectation of meeting Innis, yet, strangely enough, while crossing a park, his carriage rolled by and sto ped in front of the gate which she was approach- ing, Kitty would have fled if she could, but being unable to do so, she walked slowly and looked steadily the other way, hoping that Innis would not perceive her. But she was mistaken. He was at her side in a trice, and his dismissed carriage was rattling down the avenue. It was an embarrassing interview at first to both parties, but it. soon grew less so, until re- straint became ease, and ease, confidence and cordiality. They walked slowly and a long way, for Frederick had a great deal to say, and it seemed that he never would have done talking. Before Kitty knew where she was, they were half a mile beyond her friend’s house, and after- ward, when they had turned to retrace their steps, they again passed it, and were half a mile on the other side before the error was noticed, and all that long way, although walking slowly, Fred was talking earnestly and sometimes rap- idly, but always in a low voice. Kitty had al- most nothing to say, but she seemed to have a great deal to look at on the pavement, from which she scarcely raised her eyes. “Tt was my blunder,” said Fred, ‘I should have looked for the number. Let us go back again.” “Tt is not material—some other day will an- swer for the call, I think I would peers to go home now,” and Fred escorted Kitty back to her aunt’s residence, succeeding by great vigil- ance in getting to the right house without fur- ther blunders, CHAPTER XVI. CONCLUSION, Innis possessed but little vanity or love of ostentation, but he now had reasons for making a display and seeking the eclat of the fashion- able world. He purchased one of the modern palaces'of the metropolis, and furnished it in a style of gorgeousness quite unsurpassed in the city, His table, his plate, his servants, and his horses and carriages, were all in a style of mag- nificence which excited comment and envy among those who were accustomed. to rank first in all those expensive luxuries. He did not occupy his great house alone. His only relations, a widowed aunt, a lady of much elegance of mind and manners, and her two young daughters, had been sought out by him, in the indigent state to which they had been, re- duced, and had been sharers of his home ang fortunes. He had not long been a householder before it was announced that preparations were on foot for a magnificent party under his own roof. Hoe had attended a round of these entertain- ments at the houses of his friends, and there was a propriety in returning their civilities, now that he had every facility for doing so. The cards of Mrs. Harvey were soon in. circulation for this purpose, and happy were all on whom these coy- eted favors fell. Kitty was not “left out.” Both she and her aunt were invited, to the great surprise of the latter, and Mr. Twiggs, to his equally great sur- prise, was not. The time came, and the people. A brilliant throng they were, as far as exter- nals went, and brilliantly were they received and entertained. Never had upper-tendomseen anything superior in costliness and elegance to the fete of the young millionaire, whose exqui- site taste had directed everything more for its own gratification than for the applause of the multitude, e When the expected time for dancing came, there was a great delay in beginning that diversion, which no one seemed to, comprehend. The musicians were all at their posts, giving many @ note of warning and preparation, and every one was in momentary expectation of hearing the order to choose partners during a long half-hour, but still no order came. Innis sauntered about the rooms, seemingly uncon- scious that any thing was amiss, chatting easil with a dozen different belles, and carrying wit’ him. an atmosphere of hope to every fluttering heart which heapproached. When the patience of many was well-nigh exhausted, a new arrival was announced, and the next moment Kitty Twiggs, radiant with exquisite beauty, was re- ceiving the kind greetings of Frederick, who had hastened to meet her, and the polite atten- tions of his aunt, . All saw in a moment how matters stood. In five minutes the music sounded a peremptory note, there was a call to choose partners, and In- nis Ted off his beautiful guest, for whom. they had so long been kept waiting. Three days after the fete Srey oy, knew perfectly well that Frederieck and Kitty were engaged to be marrried. Rumor brought the astonishing, but still most welcome tidings to Mr. Twiggs’s ears, who, although a little hum- bled, again foresaw, as he thought, the certain restoration of his fortune, and the accomplish- ment of all his brilliant designs. A few days later Frederick Innis and the beautiful Kitty were married, unostentatiously, in the presence of a few friends, at ehaneht whence they went directly to the house of the bridegroom, a palace in all but the name, of which the discarded daughter was to be the future mistress. The father was not present, and was left to learn the event from public rumor, His delight was mingled with bitter mortifica- tion at the slight which he had received, but his self-conceit soon regained the ascendancy, and he concluded that if he aad been intentionally omitted from both the party and the wedding, it resulted from a belief on the part of Invis that he was. opposed to the marriage. Whatever it was, however, he resolved to speedily set it right, and he never doubted that the least approach to conciliation on his part would be met by all the kind and cordial returns to which the most generous and affectionate father could have been entitled. He called to see his daughter, and found her kind and gentile as usual, but there was some in- visible barrier between them, which prevented a return to the familiarity of other days, and his words of congratulation, despite every effort to

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Nick Doyle, the Gold-Hunter. 29 the contrary, sounded cold and formal to his own ears. Innis received him with the same chilling politeness which had marked their former inter- view, or if thera was any change, he was even more ¢eremonious to his guest than before. This was at first highly encouraging to Twiggs but here again he found himself continually held back from any approach to familiarity. He went home in doubt, and when a week had ed without any advances on the part of his children, his doubts grew stronger and darker. Humbled and desperate, he again called, to meet with a precisely similar reception, and another week was passed in futile hopes and surmises. Then he wrote to his daughter, inclosing a let- ter to his son-in-law, in which he stated his em- barrassments, and coolly requested the latter to take his property and assume his debts merely, until some unexplained contingencies should oc- cur fully to relieve him. There would be, he said, but a trifle of twenty thousand dollars or so to be advanced, and everything could slumber quietly till better times. It was a mere form, which scarcely required more than the scratch of a pen and everything would be arranged. Innis replied in a letter which was most pro- fuse of respects and courtesies. He said he did not comprehend with any distinctness the nature of the favor that was asked of him, but he saw _by the repeated assurance of his correspondent that it was something very trifling, and which there could be no doubt any of the numerous friends of Mr. Twiggs, whom he must have often greatly obliged, would be bappy to grant. For himself he had fully resolved to avoid all business transactions, and he did not mean that any circumstances should induce him to deviate from his rule. Kitty shed tears when she read her husband’s letter, but she did not ask him to relent. He as- sured her that he was not influenced by revenge- ful feelings, but that he did not think it was oe to assist in sustaining a man so kieduie as selfish and unjust. At the same time he accord- ed to his wife full permission to disburse freely to her parents, if they should ever be in want, whatever allowance was necessary to maintain them in comfort. In a few weeks the banker failed, with a crash which startled the financial circles to which he belonged, and surprised the whole community. His large losses had been so skillfully concealed he had so well preserved the external show of wealth long after the substance was gone, that few dreamed of his coming downfall. Every- thing went by the board. is creditors proved more than usually inexorable, and friends he had none, He resigned, of necessity, his place in the bank, and it was not long before he solicited and gladly received the pecuniary stipend which his daughter was permitted to allow him, and which was adequate to all his reasonable wants. Having always made money the standard of merit, he was thoroughly humbled by his loss, and he sunk rapidly in the social scale to the level to which his narrow intellect and a heart void of all ennobling moral qualities belonged, and from which he had long been kept only by his wealth. He had scorned the poor etn unfortunate without distinction, and now he was poor and unfortunate himself, and was scorned in turn, Calling as were his re- verses, they were aggrava' by the remem- brance of some of his more marked misdeeds in the days of his prosperity, and especially by the thoughts of his having deserted and coolly wit- nessed the downfall of the man to whom he owed his fortune, when a slight. effort on his art might have saved him from ruin. That nnis had a perfect knowledge of all these facts he did not long doubt, and, therefore, he in- dulged no hope of increased favor from his son- in-law, whom he never met without a sense of shame and mortification. Innis and Kitty continued happy, and the dis- pensers of happiness to others. Frederick does not seek to increase his great wealth, and a con- siderable portion of his large income flows con- stantly into the various channels of benevolence which are ever open to those who are desirous of doing good to their fellow-beings. Seth Whit- man is still his right-hand man, and is the same hilarious, frank, generous fellow who first as- sisted the Californian to shake off the shackles of mt and leave his native shores for the land of gold. otham Wakely was not satisfied with his wealth, and went back to found a new city in El Dorado, confident of seeing the day when he should be the Astor of that New World—but in- stead of realizing his brilliant expectations, be lost his embryo town by a failure of title, and returned to Vermont shorn of half his wealth, but still abundantly rich and fully convinced of the value of the ancient adage, ‘‘ Let well enough alone,”

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a a a a ee = BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY. 148 Deadwood Dick's Ward; or, The Black Hills Jezebel. By Edward L. Wheeler. 169 The Boy Champion. By Edward Willett. 170 Bob Rockett’s Wight for Life; or, Shadowed in New York, By Charles Morris. 171 Frank Morton, the Boy Hercules. By Oli Coomes. 172 The Yankee Ranger; or, Dusky Darrell, By 178 Dick Dingle, Seout, or, The Frontier Angel. B Cc) ingle, Scout, or, The ntier Ange iy Edward § Hillis, 174 Dandy Rock’s Scheme; or, The Golden Hand. Fi . W. Browne. : 175 The Arab Detective; or, Snoozer, the Boy Sharp. By Edward L. Wheeler. 176 Will Wildfire’s Pluck; or, The Hidden Hand, By Charles Morris. 177 The Boy Commander; or, The Maid of Perth. - Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 178 The Maniac Hunter; or, The Mysteries of Night Island, By Burton Saxe. 179 fede: Lance; or, The Mystic Marksman, By J. E. Badger, Jr. 180 The Boy Gold Hunter; or, Navajo Nick’s Scout, By T. O. Harbaugh, 181 The Scapegrace Son. By Charles Morris, 182 The Dark-Skinned Scout; or, The Freebooters of the Mississippi. By Lieut. Col. Hazeltine. 183 Jabez Dart, Detective; or, The Hermit Trapper. By Oll Coomes. 184 ostiean clett, the Boy Spy. By Ed. Willett. 185 Bison Bill, the Overland Prince, By Col. Pren- tiss Ingraham. 186 Dainty Lance and His Pard. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 187 The Trapped Tiger King; or, Dar& Paul's Plot. By Charles Morris, 183 The Ventriloquists Detective. A Romance of Rogues. By Edward L. Wheeler. 189 Old Rocky’s Boys; or, Bonito, the Young Mus- tang-Breaker. By Maj. Sam 8. Hall, 190 Sim Simpkins, Scout; or, The Faithful Mountain Mastiff. By James L. Bowen. 191 Dandy Rock’s Rival; or, The Mysterious Wolf Rider. By Geo. Waldo Browne. 192 Hickory Harry; or, Roaring Ralph, the Veutrilo- re By Harry St. George. 198 Detective Josh Grim; or, The Young Gladiator’s Game. By Edward L. Wheeler. 194 Prospect Pete, the Boy Miner. By Oll Coomes. 195 The Tenderfoot Trailer; or, Plucky Phil, of the Mountain, By T.C, Harbaugh. 196 The Dandy Detective; or, The Abducted Boy Tiyatery By Charles Morris, 197 Roy, the Young Cattle King; or, The Texan Eyer Unmasked. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 198 . Dan’s Mask; or, The Rival Leagues of the Mines. By Frank Dumont. 199 Dictionary Nat, Detective; or, Bill Bravo, the Bear Tamer. By T. OC, Harbaugh. 200 The Twin Horsemen; or, The Brothers of the Plumed Lance. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 201 Dandy Darke’s Pards; or, The Aawks of High Pine. By Wm. R. Eyster. 202 Tom, the Texan Tige:; or, Old Luke’s Luck. By Oll Coomes. 203 Sam, the Office Boy; or, The Tables Turned. By Charles Morris. 204 The Young Cowboy; or, The Girl Trailer’s Tri- umph. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 205 The Frontier Detective; or, Sierra Sam’s Scheme. e . L. Wheeler. 206 White Lightning; or, the Boy Ally, By T. O. Harbaugh. 207 Kentuck Talbot?s Band; or, The Red Lasso. By 208 Privat tom Mile re Myste: Dashi apper Tom’s le 8 3 or, Dashing Diok’s Disguise. By Ol Coomen, 209 The Messenger-Boy Detective; or, The Tables 10 Ta inch beck of the Mises; or, Reckless Ralph e Cc) of the Mines; or, ess i ( porn eo By Jos. E, Badger, Jr, i" 211 Little Giant and His Band; or Despard, the Duelist. By P. 8. Warne. 212 The Jimtown Sport; or, Gypsy Jack in Colorado, me E. L. Wheeler, 213 The Pirate’s Prize; or, The Mysterious Yankee Schooner. By C. Dunning Clark. 214 Dandy Dave, of Shasta; or, The ’Frisco Flash o* Lightning, By. T. O. Harbaugh. 215 Daring Dan the Ranger; or, the Denver Detec. tive. By Oli Coomes. 216 The Cowboy Captain; or, Ranger Ralph’s Ruin, By Colonel ntiss Ingraham. 217 Sald Head of the Rockies; or, The Ang’l of the a By Major Sam 8. iy 218 The Miner Sport; or, Sugar-Coated Sam’s Claim, By Edward L. Wheeler, 119 Buck, the Detective; or, Paul, the Boy Pard, By Albert W. Aiken, 220 Crack-Shot Frank; or, Bill Bounce, the Moun- tain Bravo. By Charles Morris. 221 Merle the Middy; or, A Waifofthe Waves. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 222 Rosebud Ben’s Boys; or, The Young Prairie Rangers. By Oll Coomes. 228 Gold Conrad’s Watch-Dogs; or, The Two Pards of Vulture Bar, By T. C. Harbaugh. 284 es Fergus, thé New York Boy. By G. L. ken, 228 Dick Drew, the Miner's Son; or, Apollo Bill, the Road-Agent. By Edward L. Wheeler, 226 Dakota Dick in Chicago; or, Jack, the Old Tar. By Charles Morris. , 227 Morle, the Boy Cruiser; or, Brandt the Buc- eaneer. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 228 The Preacher Detective; or The Boy Ventrilo- ist. By Oll Coomes. 229 Old Hickory’s Grit. By John J. Marshall. 230 The Three Boy Sports; or, The Sword Hunters. By Captain Frederick Whittaker, 281 pera Sam, the Detective. By Edward L. eeler. 282 Merle Monte’s Treasure; or, Buccaneer Brandt’s Threat By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 283 Rocky Rover Kit; or, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail. at Ensign C. D. Warren. 234 rere tho Miner Chief. By Capt. J. F. G ms, 285 Jack Stump’s Cruise; or, The Montpelier’s Muti- neers. By Roger Starbuck. 286 Sierra Sam’s Double; or, The Three Female De- tectives. By Ed. L. Wheeler. z 287 Newsboy Ned, D-tective; or Two Philadelphia Gamins. By Charles Morris. 288 Merle Monte’s Bere cal or, Little Belt’s Droll Disguise. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 289 Ben’s Big Boom: or, The Boss Miner's League, By Capt. Mark Wilton. 240 Sharp Shot Mike; or, Colambia Jim onthe War- Path. By Oll Coomes. 241 Sierra Sam’s Sentence; or, Little Luck at Rough Ranch. By Edward L, Wheeler, 242 The Denver Detective; or, Dainty Dot at Gold Guich. By T. C. Harbaugh. 248 Dutch Jan’s Dilemma; or, The Mysterious Mountain Monster. By Maj. L. W. Carson.” 244 Merle Monte’s Disguise; or, The Capture of Brandt, the Buccaneer. By Col. P. Ingraham. 245 Baldy’s Boy Partner; or, Young Brainerd’s Steam Man. By Edwari 8, Ellis. 246 Detective Keen's Apprentice; or, James Jumper the New York Gamin, By Charles Morris. 247 The Girl Sport; or; Jumbo Joe’s Disguise. By Edward L. Wheeler. 248 Giant George’s Pard; or, Arizona Jack, the Tenderfoot. By Buekskin 249 Ranch Rob’s Wild Ride; or, Old Winch The Rifle King. By T. C. Harbaugh. 250 Merle Monte’s Pardon; or, The Pirate Chief's Doom. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 251 The Deaf Detective; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp, By BdwardWillets,’ A Br Baw - . ape son SE ose Oo TR SRD

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> fod 288 Benyer Doll's Bevico; or, The Detective Queen, ward JU orfoot: or, Rearing Bon Bundy ot mderfoot; or, en Capt. Mark Wilton. en; or, Dutch Jan on the War- J } Path. By Maj. Lewis W. Carson. 255 Jolly Jim, Detective; or, The Young Protege’s Viotory. Charles Morris, 256 Merle Monte’s Last Cruise; or, The Sea Robber at Bay. fi Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 257 The Boy Chief 0! ihe + - n. 258 Denver Doll as Detective. By KE. L. Wheeler. 259 Little Foxeye, the Colorado Spy, Oll Coomes, 260 Skit, the Cabin Boy. Ry Edward Willett. ae 261 Blade, the ee or, the Giant of Clear Grit Camp. By T. C. Harbaugh. 262 Billy, the Boy Rover. By Col, P, Ingraham, 263 Buster Bob’s Buoy; or, Lige, the Light-House Keeper. By Capt. J. FG. Adams, 264 Denver Doll’s Parner; or, Big Buckskin the Sport. By E. L. Wheeler. 265 Billy, the Baggage Boy: or, The Young Railroad Detective. By Charles Morris. 266 Guy’s Boy Chum; or, The Forest Waif’s Mask. By Capt. Comstock. 267 Giant George’s Revenge; or, The Boys of “ Slip- po yee y Buckskin 268 The Deadshot Dandy; or, The Rio Grande Marauders. By Col. Prentiss Ingrabam. 269 The Quartzville Boss; or, Daring David Darke. By Edward Willett. a 270 Denver Doll’s Mine; or, Little Bill’s Big Loss, By E. L. Wheeler. 271 Byony Jim’s Terror; or, Ranger Rainbolt’s Ruse, By Oll Coomes. 272 Kit, the Girl Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh. 273 The Girl Rider; or, Nimble Ned’s Surprise. By Jos. B. Badger, Jr. 274 Dead Shot Dandy’s Double; or, Benito, the Boy Pard. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 275 Fred, the Ocean Waif; or, The Old Sailor’s _ Protege. By Charles Morris. 276 Deadwood Dick Trapped. By Ed L. Wheeler. 277 The Idiot Boy Avenger; or, Captain Wild-Cat’s Big Game. By Albert W. Aiken. 278 Arizona Alf, the Miner; or, Little Snap Shot’s Luck. By T. C, Harbaugh. 279 Colorado Jack, the Tiger; or, The Ghost of the Trailer. By Frederick Dewey. 280 Dead Shot Dandy’s Last Deal, or, Keno Kit’s New Role. Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 281 aie ee ilot; or, The Pirate Liewtenant’s oom. ack Farragut. 282 Buck awic Detective; or, the Messenger Boy’s Fortune. By Edward lL. Wheeler. 283 Roving Sport Kit; or, The Ghost of Chuckaluck Camp. By Edward Willett. 284 The Showman’s Best Card; or, The Mad Animal Tamer. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. 285 Old Rocky’s Pard; or, Little Ben’s Chase. By 4 286 Dick the Dako ris. { ick, the ‘ota Sport. By Charles Morris. 287 Ned, the Boy Ski Sart or. The Sea Sorceress’ Cruise. By Jack Farragut. 288 Deadwood Dick’s Disguise; or, Wild Walt, the Sport. By Edward L. Wheeler. 289 Colorado Nick, the Lassoist; or, Old Si’s Protege. By Major H. B. Stoddard. 290 Rube, the Tenderfoot: or, the Boys of Torpedo Guich. By Major E. L. St. Vrain. 291 Peacock Pete, the Leadville Sport; or, Hawk, the Boss Miner. By Albert W. Aiken. 292 Joe Ledge the Night-Hawk; or, the Black Rider, ove De oe Tan the oe wa ake, the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon's Man-Hunt. By Edward Willett. Z 294 Dumb Dick’s Pard; or, Eliza Jane, the Gold Miner. By Ed. L. eeler. 295 White Wing, the Ferret Flyer. By Chas. Morris. 296 ja, the Tiger-Tamer; or, The American : n Abrosd. By Captain i, Whittaker. BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY. 4 Giant or, The BoyeesofSardine- Box City. B ackstin Ba 208 Daisy Doll's = Ten aed asb; or, Tho Colerado Pards. '. C, Harbaugh. 299 The Balloon Detectives; or, Jack Slasher’s Young Pard. By Harry Enton. 800 Deadwood Dick’s Mission, By E. fe ween, 301 aa Duke, the Cowboy. By r Bt ©. Harbai or. The 802 Big Benson's Bet, By T. 803 The Hotel Boy Detective; or Central Robbery. By Charles Morris. 904 Bald Head’s Pard; or, Creeping Cat’s Cunning. By Buckskin Sam, 805 Dusky Dick’s Duel; or, The Demon’s Trail, By Harry Hazard. 806 Spotter Fritz; or, The Store-Detective's Becoy, By E. L. Wheeler. 807 Nick, the “ee Sport; or, Three Plucky Pards, By Major E. L. St. Vrain, 808 Double-Fisted Mat; or, The Mystic California Giant. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 309 O.d Graybeard’s Boy; or, The Girl’s Ruse, By CG. Dunning Clark, 310 Kit, the Captain; or, The Mad Sailor’s Legacy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 311 Frio Frea in Texas. By Buckskin Sam. 312 The Detective Road-Agent; or, The Miners of Sassafras City. B Edward L. Wheeler. 31s Honest Jack’s Protege; or, The Dwarf's Scheme, By Philip 8. Warne. 314 Clip the Boy Sheriff; or, The Two Crooks of Montana. By Edward Willett. 015 Tom, the Arizona Sport; or, Howling Hank from Hard Luck. By Major E. L, St. Vrain. #16 The Street Arab Detective; or, Dick Dorgan’s Double Dealing. By Charles Morris. 317 Buckskin Ben of Texas; or, Single Eye’s Plucky Pards. By Buckskin Sam. 318 Colorado Char'ie’s Detective Dash; or, The Cattle Kings. By Edward L. Wheeler. 319 Frisky Frank in Idaho; or, Old Skinflint the Shadower. By Roger Starbuck, 320 Cool Sam’s Girl Pard; or, Captain Dick and His Texans. By T. OC. Harbaugh. 221 Billy, the Kid from Frisco; or, Silver Mask’s Clew. By J. C. Cowdrick. $22 Fred Flyer, Detective; or, Abe Blizzard on Deck. By Cnarles Morris. 323 Dead Shot Ike in Montana; or, Hez Helper, the Yankee Pard. By Roger Starbuck. $24 Kit, the Denver Sport; or, The Bonanza Miner King. By Edward L, Wheeler. 325 Dusky Darrell the Camp Detective; or, The Dandy’s Daring Dash. By Edwin Emerson, 826 Roy, the Boy Cruiser; or, The Water Wolt Wreckers. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 327 Ned, the Roving Miner; or, Arkansaw Jack's Match, By Harry Hazard. 828 Rocky Ben’s Band; ov, Big Pete’s Big Haul. By W. J. Hamilton. 829 Gah the Colorado Wrestler. By Maj. E. L. St. rain, 830 The Denver Sport’s Racket; or, Kit’s Big Boom. a Edward L. Wheeler. 331 The Coast Detective; or, The Smuggler Shadow- er. By Roger Starbuck. 382 Dakota Dan in Canyon City; or, Colorado Kate’s Check. By Philip S. Warne. 333 Bootblack Ben, the Detective; or, Pooler Jim and His Pard. By oe P. Morris. 334 Frisco Tom on Deck; or, The Golden Gate Smug- glers. By George Henry Morse. Ys 335 Ben Bandy, the Boss Pard; or, The Plucky La Parson. J. Stanley Henderson, 236 Fred, the Be in Brimstone Bar Camp; or, The Boston restler’s Confederate, By Ed. L, eeler. 287 Daisy Dave the Colorado Galoot; or, The Boss of Dead Line City. By T. C. Harbaugh. 338 The Gold Bar Detectives or, Iron Ike, the Solid p. By Major & i, 6 Vrain.

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BEADLE’'S Pocket [JBRARY. 889 Rardo, the Boy Gypsy. By Wm. G. Patten, 840 Billy Bubble’s Big Score. By Charles Morris, 841 Colorado Steve’s Dash. By Philip 8, Warne. 842 Snap-Shot Sam. By Bucksin Sam, 843 Mike, the Bowery Detective; or, Peleg Prancer of Vermont. By Edward L. Wheeler. 344 The Drummer Sport. By Edward Willett. 845 Jaques, the Hardpan Detective; or, Captain Frisco the Road-Agent. By J. C. Cowdrick. 846 Joe, the Chicago Arab. By Charles Morris. 347 Middy Herbert’s Prize. By Col. P. Ingraham. 348 Sharp-Shooter Frank. By Buckskin Sam. 849 Buck, the Miner. By Maj. E. L. St. Vrain. $50 Ned, the Slab City Sport. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 351 Rocky Mountain Joe. By Col. T. H. Monstery. 852 New York Tim. By Charles Morris. 858 The Girl Pilot. By Roger Starbuck, 854 Joe, the Boy Stage-Driver. By Maj. St. Vrain. 355 Texas Frank’s Crony; or, The Girl Mustang Rider. By Bucks:in Sam, 856 Idaho Ned, Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. 857 Guy, the Boy Miner. By Col. P. Ingraham. 358 Jersey Joe, the Old Tar. By Mrs. Orin James. 859 Dandy Dick's Dash; or, The Boy Cattle - King. By Oll Comes. 360 Jim’s Big Bonanza. 861 Oregon Phil, the Sport. By Philip 5. Warne. 362 Kit, tne Bootblack Detective. By E. L. Wheeler, 63 Tye Ocean Racer, By T, C. Harbaugh. 861 Fritz’s Old Score. By Ned Buntline. 365 Orack Shot Harry. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 366 Gold Dust Rock, the Whirlwind of the Mines. By W. J. Hamilton. By G. Waldo Browne. 867 Fred’s Bold Game. By Paul Bibbs. 868 Jim, the Sport in se By Ed. L. Wheeler. 369 Captain Blake’s Jonah, By Roger Starbuck. 870 Denver Kit’s Double. By Major H. B. Stoddard. $71 Blue Blazes Dick. By T. C. Harbaugh. 372 The Sea Cat’s Prize. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. $73 Larry O’Lynn’s Dash. By Joseph F, Henderson, 374 Jim, the Sport’s Big Boom; or, The Bonanza King’s Rival, By Edward L. Wheeler. 875 Bowery Bob, Detective. By Jo Pierce. 876 Buckskin Dick’s Clean Sweep; or, Jonathan Jenks’ Still Hunt. By Col. Arthur KF, Holt. 377 The Deadwood Sports. By Lieut. 8. G. Lansing, 373 Bronco Billy, the Saddle Prince. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 879 Dick, the Stowaway. By Charles Morris. 340 Young Dick Talbot. By Albert W. Aiken. 381 Dandy Bill’s Doom; or, Deerhunter, the Boy Scout. By Oll Cooms. : 882 Wide-Awake George By Edward Willet. 383 Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. By Col. Ingraham, 384 Brimstone Bill’s Booty: or, Mariposa Marsh at Dead Man’s Guich By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 885 The Boy Tramps, By J. M. Hoffman. 386 The Montana Kia; or, Little Dan Rock’s Mis- By Morris Redwing. 887 The Boy Detectives. By T. C. Harbaugh. 888 The Pony Express Rider; or, Buffalo Bill’s Frontier Feats. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 389 Now York Bill, the Dodger By Edward Willett. 890 The Ticket-of-Leave’s Trick; or, Spring Steel, King of the Bush. By Joseph H. Badger, Jr. 391 Cnarley Skylark, the Sport. By Major Henry B. Stoddard. , $92 Texas Jack, the Mustang King. Prentiss Ingraham. 898 Peter, the Dandy Greenhorn. By Noah Nuff. 394 Tom Temple’s Big Strike. By Barry Ringgold. 395 Harry, the Country Boy, in New York. By Charles Morris, é 896 Detective Paul’s Right Bower. By C. D. Clark. 397 Tip Tressell, the Flatboat Boy. By Ed, Willett. 898 Captain Jack in Rocky Roost. By Col. Ingraham. 399 Harry Somers, the Magician. By S. W. Pierce. 400 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wrecker. By Roger Starbue®- sion. By Colonel 401 Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines, By Chas. Morris, 402 Flatboat Fred on the Mississippi. By E. Willett, 403 Jake, the Colorado Circus Boy. By Bryant Bainbridge. 404 Texas Charlie’s Wild Ride. By Col. P. Ingraham, 405 Wide-Awake Ned, By Barry Ringgold. 406 Giant Pete and His Pards. By T. C. Harbaugh, 407 Old Ruff’s Protege; or, Little le’s Secret. By Captain Bruin Adams, 408 Stowaway Dick Abroad. By Charles Morris. 409 Doctor Carver, the Champion Shot. By Col. P. Ingraham. 410 Captain Wly-By-Night, the Colorado King-Pin By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. R 411 New York Jack’s Mettle. By Barry Ringgold. 412 Sam Speuce, the Broadhorn Boy. By Edward Willett. 413 Revolver Billy in Texas. By Col. P, lugraham. 414 Dasher Dick’s Dead Lock. By J. M. Hoffman. 415 Pony, the Cowboy Chief. By H. B. Stoddard. 416 Panther Dick’s Death Leap. By A. F. Holt, 417 Fighting Fred of Frisco. By T. OC. Harbaugh. 418 Buckskin Sam’s Wild Ride. By Col. P Ingraham. 419 Frisco Guy’s Big Bonanza. By Roger Starbuck. 420 Pat Mulroony’s Pard. By Emerson Rodman. 421 Tim, the Boy Acrobat. by Charles Morris, 422 Red Spur Rélph, the Texan. By OC D. Clark. 428 Dashing Bob, the Pony Express Rider. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 424 Tom Stone, the Old Sea Dog. By C.D. Clark. 425 Darky Jumble’s Wild Ride. By Barry Ringgold. 426 Wolk Oan; or, The Night-Hawks of the Fire- Lands. By Capt. Chas. Howard. 427 Bessie, the Border Girl. By: Henry J. Thomas, 428 Nebraska Charlie. By Col. P. Ingrabam. 429 Bill Beeler’s Bonanza. By Edward Willett. 430 Long Shot; or, The Dwarf Guide. By Captain Comstock, 431 Lillie, the Reckless Rider. By Maj. H. B. Stod- By Charles Morris. dard, Ex-Scout. 432 Cool Clark’s Rash Race. 433 Old Grizzly in the Rockies. By Col. P. Ingraham. 434 Joe, the Rover Sport. By A, H. Post. 435 An Irish Sport Abroad. By ©. L. Edwards. 436 Oregon Josh, the Wizard Rifle. By R. Starbuck, 437 Detective Jake’s Clew. By H. B. Stoddard. 438 Fancy Frank’s Drop. By Col. P. Ingraham. 439 aes or, The Mountain Heroine, By Ed, lett. 440 The Death Shot. By Joseph E. Badger. Jr. 441 Wistah, the Child Spy. By George Gleason. 442 Dirk, the Sea Dandy. By Roger Starbuck. 448 The Masked Avenger. By C 1. P. Ingraham. 444 Cool Ciark’s Dead-Set. By Charles Morris. 445 Old Pegs, the Mountaineer. By L. W. Carson. 446 Black Panther, the Half-Blood. By Joseph E, Radger, Jr. 447 The Antelope Boy. By George L. Aiken, 448 Wild Raven, the Scout. By Oll Coomes. 449 The Boy Pilot... By Colonel P. Ingraham. 450 ee Dick. By J. Stanley Henderson. 451 Silv:r Rifle, the Girl Tracker, by Capt. Cuarles Howard. 452 The Giant Hunter. By Harry Hazard. 4 8 The Half-Breed Rival. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 454 The Darky Detective. By Mrs. Orin James, 455 Clark’s Big Bonanza. By Charles Morris. 456 Niek Doyle, the Gold Hunter. By P. H. Myers. 457 Wrank Bell, the Boy Spy. By Oll Coomes. Ready October 12th. 458 The Champion Texan Rider. By H. St. George. Ready October 19th. A New Issue Every Wednesday. x Buapir’s Pocket Lrsnary is for sale by all News- dealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on re- ceipt of six eents each. : BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York,, |