Deadwood Dick Library (v. 3) (1899 11 29)

Page 1

®opyright 1881-1886, by Beadle & Adams, Ent red at Post Office. New York. N. Y., us second class maiter. Mur, 15, 1899. TERR & CO... Puhilahare f re No. 39. Micnad Wee, M. J. IVERS & CO., Publishers, 2 5 Cents. } aps isnt rl Street, New York. $2.50 a Year. > (James Sullivan, Proprietor,) E 7 ¢ > ’ 5 Nov. 29, 1899. 379 Pe ~ Vol. IIL WITHOUT MUCH APPARENT EFFORT, WILD FRANK PITCHED HIM INTO THE POOL, HEAD-FIRST, HIS HEELS BRANDISHING WILDLY IN THE AIR,

Page 2

IN THE HALF-DIME LIBRARY. Price 5 Cents per Copy. 443 Deadwood Dick, Jr.; or, The Crimson Crescent Sign. Deadwood Dick, Jr’s, Defiance. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Full Hand. 459 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Big Round-Up. 465 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Racket at Claim 10. 71 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Corral. 76 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Dog Detective. 481 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Deadwood. 491 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Compact. 496 Deadwood ick, Jr.’s, Inheritance. 500 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Diggings. 508 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Deliverance. 515 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Protege. 522 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Three. 529 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Danger Ducks. 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Death Hunt. 589 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Texas. 544 Deadwood Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidoeq. 549 Deadwood Dick, Jr , on His Mettle. 554. Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Gotham. 561 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Boston. 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Philadelphia. 572 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago. 578 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Afloat. 584. Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver. 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Decree. 595 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Beelzebub’s Basin. 600 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Coney Island. 606 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Leadville Lay. 612 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Detroit. 618 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Cincinnati. 624 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Nevada. 630 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land. 636 Deadwood Dick, Jr., After the Queer. 642 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Buffalo, 648 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Chase Across the Continent. 654 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Among the Smug- glers. 660. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Insurance Case. 666 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Back in the Mines. 672 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Durango. 678 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery. 684 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dazzle. 690 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dollars. 695 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Danger Divide. 700 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Drop. 704 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Jack-Pot. 710 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at San Francisco. 448 453 716 Deadwood Dick, 722 Deadwood Dick, 728 Deadwood Dick, 734 Deadwood Dick, 740 Deadwood Dick, 747 Deadwood Dick, 752 Deadwood Dick, 758 Deadwood Dick, 764 Deadwood Dick, 770 Deadwood Dick, Deadwood Dick, 782 Deadwood Dick, 787 Deadwood Dick, 792 Deadwood Dick, "97 Deadwood Dick, 802 Deadwood Dick, 807 Deadwood Dick, 812 Deadwood Dick, 816 Deadwood Dick, 822 Deadwood Dick, 828 Deadwood Dick, 834 Deadwood Dick, 840 Deadwood Dick, 845 Deadwood Dick, 852 Deadwood Dick, 858 Deadwood Dick, 863 Deadwood Dick, 870 Deadwood Dick, 876 Deadwood Dick, 882 Deadwood Dick, 891 Deadwood Dick, 898 Deadwood Dick, 904 Deadwood Dick, 910 Deadwood Dick, 916 Deadwood Dick, 928 Deadwood Dick, 934 Deadwood Dick, 940 Deadwood Dick, 946 Deadwood Dick, 951 Deadwood Dick, 957 Deadwood Dick, 965 Deadwood Dick, 971 Deadwood Dick, 977 Deadwood Dick, 980 Deadwood Dick, 992 Deadwood Dick, 998 Deadwood Dick, 1005 Deadwood Dick, 1011 Deadwood Dick, 1018 Deadwood Dick, 77 Jr.’s, Still Hunt. Jr.’s, Dominoes. Jr.’s, Disguise. Jr.’s, Double Deal. Jr.’s, Death-Watch. Jr.’s, Doublet. Jr.’s, Death-Blow. . Jr.’s, Desperate Strait, Jr.’s, Lone Hand. , Jr.’s, Défeat. Jr.'s, Resurrection. Jr.’s, Dark Days. Jr., Defied. Jr.’s, Double Device. Jr.’s, Desperate Venture. Jr.’s, Diamond Dice, < Jr.’s, Royal Flush. Jr.’s, Head-Off. : # Jr.’s, Rival. * a “aes Jr.’s, Boom. Jr.’s, Scoop. Jr.’s, Proxy. Jr.’s, Clutch. — Jr,’s, High Horse. Jr., at Devil’s Gulch. Jr.’s, Death-Hole Hustle. Jr.’s, Bombshell. Jr., in Mexico, — Jr.’s, Decoy Duck. Jr., in Siiver Pocket. Jr.’s, Dead-Sure Game. Jr.’s, Double Drive. : Jr.’s, Trade-Mark, ¢ Jr., at Tip-Top. Fy Jr.’s, Double-Decker. Jr., at Dollarville. Jr., at Flush Flats. a Jr.’s, Shake-Up. Bd Jr.’s, Double Drop. Jr.’s, Right Bower. Jr.’s, Ten-Strike. z Jr.’s, Gold Dust. - Jr.’s, Oath. Jr.’s, Death-Doom. Jr.’s, Best Card. Jr., at Gold Dust, Jr.’s, Big Play. Jr., Branded. Jr.’s, Dutch Pard, Jr.’s, Big Four. sp For sale by all newsdealers or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price, 5c. per copy, by the publish- ers, M. J. IVERS & CO., 379 Peart Stregt, New York Crry.

Page 3

PROG + inp PAIR: eee f xt : t £ J . eet PGR xf L cs ef ren ty * bec fre oh ree Sees AEE oY Sepyright 1881-1886, by Beadle & Adams. Entered at Post Office, New York, N. Y., as second class matter. Mar, 15, 1899 ae No 38 Tesued Weary M. J. IVERS & CO., Publishers, staat [ Price 5 Cents 2 (James Sullivan, Proprietor,) ; re : Nov. 20,1809. 379 Pearl Street, New York. $2.50 a Year. Vol. I. es — ——————S——= ———— —= = ==: = SS ee WIFHOUT MUCH APPARENT EFFORT, WILD FRANK PITCHED. HIM INTO THE POOL, HESO-PIRS¥, BIS HEELS BRANDISHING WiLDLY IN THE, ATR.

Page 4

2 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. -~ Wild Frank, THE BUCKSKIN BRAVO; OR, LADY LILY’S LOVE. BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ DEADWOOD DICK” NOVELS, ‘‘ ROSE- BUD ROB” NOVELS, ‘‘ BOSS BOB,” ETC., ETO. CHAPTER I. THE WOUNDED STRANGER’S GIFT, Ir was a moonlit night on the vast expanse of rolling country near the Powder River. For mile upon mile it stretched away toward the east in undulating billows divided by tiny val- leys, and with not a tree visible to the naked eye. Tre night was keenly cold even for the month of December, the air being filled with biting frost, yet clear and pure. ‘The moon which rode at its full across the blue vault overhead, bathed the landscape below in a mellow radianve, which made the night nearly as light as the day that had preceded it. A Rates drew rein upon the crest of a land billow, somewhat higher than its surrounding neighbors, and swept the prairies with his eagle glance, an expression of kindling admiration coming over his browned features. “Jt is a beautiful night, ain’t it, Bess?’ he said, patting his coal-black mustang on the neck. ‘It reminds mo of the night old Spotted Tail and his party gave us a whirl, over on the Loup... 1 wonder if there’s any reds around, to-night.” ‘ : He unslung a field glass from its holster, and gazed long and earnestly through it, sweeping the landscape on every side. “Nary a varmint, [ guess,” was the conclu- sion, as he put up the glass. ‘‘ I reckon they’re off on a raid somewhere, or else they’d be a- layin’ for me. Ha! ha! maybe they’re sick of layin’ for Wild Frank!” 6 chirruped to his horse, and away the faith- ful mustang galloped down the hillside and across the valley to the next billow, and away and on like an arrow, so swift he went. A mile was quickly spent, and Wild Frank was just crossing another ravine or valley when he heard a peculiar cry. Instantly he reined Black Bess back upon her haunches and listened, his features growing suddenly stern in their ex- pression. Boy of seventeen summers, though he was, daily experience on the frontier from in- fancy had taught him the well-known maxim to **look before leaping.” Wild Frank, though young in years, and short in stature, was strong and rugged, and the clear cast of his countenance, and the eagle glance of his eye, told better than words that he hed i son of the frontier, brave and daring to a ult. He was clad from chin to toe in buckskin, with a bearskin cloak as cape about his shoulders, and broadbrim slouch hat upon a head, whose curling brown hair swept his shoulders, His weapons consisted of a pair of revolvers and a knife in his belt, and a rifle slung across his back, and this he now unslung and brought into hand as he drew rein, ; ‘Sh! Bess—be quiet,” he said softly. “It wasn’t no animal that give thet yelp. Mebbe there are reds in the vicinity. Listen!” They did listen, the mustang as well as her’ rider, and were soon rewarded, A long moaning cry came floating to them on the crisp breeze—came from a clump of alder bushes that grew in the ravine, but a few yards away. i There! I know’d it wasn’t an animal ki-yi!" Wild Frank said, ‘Nor it ain’t an Indian as give that Be" I opine I'd best investigate.” He guided Black Bess close to the thicket, and dismounted, Parting the shrubbery, he peered into a sort of clearing that had been made in the center, by the use of a knife, Here a scene was revealed to his gaze, that sent a thrill of sympathy through his heart, anda ite of horror ie attack Cae es oy ying upon the ground, pa suppor Ok his elbow, was a man, with a full beard and un- kempt hair—with haggard eyes and features, the latter bloody from flesh wounds. Beside this stranger was a little girl some two years old--a pretty little thing she was, with sunny hair, and fast asleep with her little head pillowed against the man’s breast. ‘Thank God!” the wounded stranger uttered, as he saw Wild Frank. ‘I was afraid it was an Indian coming to finish me.” “But, it ain’t, you see,” the young scout re- plied. “‘ What's the matter? Done for?” . The stranger nodded his head in the affirma- ive. ‘Yes, I am wounded beyond repair,” he re- plied, sorrowfully. ‘‘The Indians gave me chase, and I escaped to this covert, but not until they gave mea bullet in my side to remember, them ty. It don’t bleed externally, but I am eo filling up inside, and cannot last much longer. “Well, this is too bad, sure enough,” Wild or said, ‘Is there nothing I can do for you “Yes, there is,” the stranger answered glancing at the child, piteously. ‘‘T have no many minutes to live, and I must leave my lit- tle girl alone on a pitiless world. God knows how I have suffered for the past few hours in fear that I should die ere I could make any pro- vision for her, and she would be left alone here a the prairies to die from starvation, Oh! my boy, you surely will not let my inno- cent babe come to that! Tell me that you will not!” " “You can het I won’t, stranger! I don’t know much about babies, to be sure, for we never had many up at our ranch, but [ll take the little one if you say so, and do the best I know how. Them as knows Wild Frank, will tell you he never let even a dog want for grub.” ‘God bless you, my boy. Take her and call her Myrtle. Care for her tenderly; teach her to revere her God, and He will bless you for it, She has no mother, poor baby, and soon will have no father, quaffed.” Oh] . ni it is a bitter cup T have —

Page 5

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. And tears trickled down over the face of the wounded father fast. “There, don’t grieve, my friend,” Wild Frank said, kneeling beside him. ‘‘ I ain’t much versed in the matter, but there’s them as says there’s eace and happiness in the world beyond this. ‘an take your gal, and see that it is cared for. Here. Kiss it, and P'll take it out where it can have a better bed upon my blankets.” He tenderly raised the child so that the dying man could kiss it; then the latter drew.a tiny ebony box from his pocket, and pressed it into the young scout’s hand. “Take that,” he said, ‘‘and always keep it with you. lf ever any question arises that you want to know who Myrtle really is, you will find the necessary proof in that box.” Wild Frank accordingly shoved it into his bunting-sack, and then carried the babe from the thicket. Laying it upon the grass, he care- fully arranged a bed out of blankets, upon his mustang’s back. Placing his protegee upon this. he strapped her down so that she could not fall off—then leaving his mustang to graze, he re- turned to the thicket dell. A change had taken place. The stranger was outstretched, prone upon the earth, rigid in limb and feature, and with blood oozing from his mouth and nose, One pitying glance, then the young buck- skin knight turned and retraced his steps to his horse. CHAPTER II. A WIFE'S UNFAITHFULNESS, Two men met upon the streets of London, and paused, with a nod of recognition, the elder of the two extending his hand, which the younger man took with seeming reluctance. ‘*Good-evening, Sir Ralph!” the elder man said, cordially, ‘‘ Just through your duties at the bank, eh?” ‘‘T am, your lordship,” Sir Ralph replied, rather stiffly, and in surprise that he should be hailed upon the shorons fare by the moneyed aristocrat, Lord Mt. Morey. ‘I left the office but a few moments ago.” “So I inferred you would, and strolled this way tointercept you. Step over to my office, Revere, for I have something of importance to tell you.” ‘At your request, my lord, I will Go so,” Sir Ralph responded, bis words and tone indicating that he would much rather decline than accept the invitation. Nevertheless he did not refuse his lordship’s arm, and the two sauntered along the busy *Change toward Mont Morey’s broking-house. There was a marked contrast between these two men, noticeable to an observer. . Lord Mt. Morey was a man of portly stature, with a florid, fleshy face, brown, dull eyes, iron- y hair, and side-whiskers to match, and was what would have been classed a business and a society man combined. His manner was habitually easy and suave, and his general appearance attractive, for he dressed richly, as well he might, being one of the. nabobs of the West End. Sir Ralph Revere was dark both in complex- ion, eyes and hair, and wore a heavy black mus- tache, which lent him a rather brigandish ap- pearance. Traces left by trouble about his eyes, told that his life had not always been the easi and most successful, and they spoke truly. Al- though knighted, he was not wealthy like Mt, Morey, his title being the means of his position in the —— Bank, as director and acting cash- ier. His dress was far from elegant, as compared — DR of Mt. Morey, yet his manners were refined. A short walk brought them to his lordship’s elegantly 5 Sa private office, where they s mow II suppose you are wonderi h; ow, then, uu are wondering why I brought you here,” Mt. Morey said, tossing him a cigar and lighting one himself. “In truth. I am rather in the dark,” Sir Ralph reptied, ‘‘ And my hours of leisure being limited, I trust you will be brief in what you have to say, my lord.” “Tn that respect I will try to be obliging. You probable know that of late I have been an occasional visitor to your lodgings, in Lynn Place, during your business hours at the bank?” ‘‘T have heard as much,” Sir Ralph replied, ¢ with darkening brow, ‘‘ but Cecil always deni it, and therefore I never bothered to ask my lady about it,’? Mont Morey smiled. “Cecil is French, you know,” he remarked, “ and was bribed. 1 was the truth you heard, Revere. I have called upon your wife, Isabel, several times. It was first upon solicitation pre- ferred by a note in her handwriting. I found her in a wretched state of mind, complaining Lapse that you did not fulfill your promises to er “Tn what respect, pray?” Sir Ralph demand- ed, with sudden anger, “Oh! not from neglect, my boy, but from in- ability to keep her. That is to say, your purse was inadequate to the bills she must mi order to hold her own in her social circles. Then, too, the lodgings you provided were far from satisfactory to her.” “Stop! I will not listen to this!” Sir Ralph cried, his dusky eyes ablaze with passion, ‘* Is- abel is proud and ambitious, I'll admit, but she has always been reasonable, and accepted with weed, arace such as it was in my power to pro- vide. “Ah! yes, my boy, because she did not wish to worry you. You will remember that Isabel * was ranked amon when you wedded her, three years ago, and knew not. what it was to be in cramped circum- stances, until her uncle renounced her when she took you. She has not lost any of her beauty yet, and the natural desire to Lapa it in society still clings to her. You will also remember I was a former favored suitor, until you stepped in, by some mistake a reputed millionaire. Your money, youth, and bright promise won her from me. ‘*T did not rave nor seek the inside of a lunatic asylum, but quietly bided my time. I knew she would regret choosing the young for the old, and it has proven so, On finding her so miserable, I kindly lent her a few thousand pourids to satisfy her Current needs, and have continued to a ein - the beauties of social London , x “Pe ES)

Page 6

& 5 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. favor her thus. Yesterday she confessed her love for me, and begged me to take her and go to Canada or America. I was thunderstruck, and reasoned with her the scandal such a move would cause, but she would hear to nothing. She declared she did not, nor never could love you as a husband, and should seek a divorcee if she could not obtain her freedom in any other way. [ finally told her I would come to you, and offer you ten thousand pounds to leave the country and never retjurn. This will give her the freedom she so much desires, and will start you anew in another country. Of course you would not care to live with one who can never love you, and there is but one course for you to ursue, ” ; “No!” Sir Ralph said, gazing at the floor in a dazed sort of way, ‘“‘I would not live with her, if all is as you say. But before I can be- lieve it I must have better proof. - I must have the proof from jier own lips.” “Perhaps her handwriting will do as well,” his lordship said, tossing a tiny perfumed envel- ,ope upon the table at his elbow. ‘‘ She directed me to give it to you.” Sin: Ralph seized it, almost savagely; iti needed but « glance to convince him as to the origin of the graceful feminine chirography. And with such feelings as can better be im- agined then described, he perused the contents: “Lynn PLAce, August 1. “Sir RaLeH:— “You will have heard all but my confirmation of the bitter truth ere this, and it cannot add much to Zone. grief to know that these few lines are to con- m his lordship’s words. Go hence, IT beg of you, knowing my sincere pity for you, and never cast one simple thought on the womin whose hand has wrecked your life. Pierre will bring baby Lily to the Bon Ton Garden to-night, Take her, and leave London forever. IsaBEL.”” Sir Ralph was upon his feet, stern and erect, as he finished reading. “The train leaves for Liverpool at nine to- night,” he said. ‘I will leave on that train!” CHAPTER IIT. SHADOWED FROM ENGLAND. “Bur, hold,” Lord Mt. Morey said, as Si> Ralph turned to depart. ‘‘ Let me first give you the ten thousand pounds I offered you.” “Never!” Revere replied, turning on him, with flashing eyes. ‘‘I will not sell a wife’s honor, even if you stand ready to purchase, and "she be willing. Henceforth, sir, consider me » your enemy!” He then turned and left the office. The door had scarcely closed behind him, when a little withered-up old individual emerged from an inner office, and took the seat Sir Ralph had lately occupied. _ ‘ Well, well, it worked like a charm, eh?” he said, wiping his watery eyes, and putting on a ' pair of green goggles. Capital,” his lordship replied. ‘ Revere leaves London to-night, and then, off goes Isa- bel to Dr. Perrot's private asylum, while Cecil steps in as Lady Isabel, marries me, and I get the magnificent fortune. Ha! ha! its a great - scheme ” > “Why not marry Isabel instead of the maid?” the withered man asked. - ; “ Because she'd die first, beforeshe would wed me. She hates me, and my only wonder is that she has not long ere this denounced me to Sir Ralph. It is possible, however, after she finds herself caged, that she will take me. I'll try it, before I make sure of Cecil.” ‘* Flow is she to be trapped?” “Hasy enough. Dr. Perrot visits her in person to inform her that her husband has been seriously hurt in front of his own private hos- pital, where he lies in a critical condition. Very naturally, she will fly to him, and into a padded dungeon, several of which the doctor has at his command. How like you the idea, Casper Slick?” “Vou’are a shrewd schemer, my lord— shrewder than I gave you credit tor being. Is it sure that Revere will leave England?” “Positive. Ive arranged it so that it will be necessary. Ha! ha!” Sir Ralph went to Bon Ton Garden that even- ing, and found Pierre with the child, as Lady Isabel’s letter had promised. Pierre was the only man servant they had ever kept—an hon- est fellow, who never made it his business to mind any one’s business but his own, Sir Ralph did not stop to ask any questions, but Bs his little two-year-old girl and left the garden, : She looked wonderingly up into his face, and hugged closer to him, as if satisfied to be with He took a cab and was driven to the Liver- pool train, arriving at the station just in time to purchase his ticket, and get aboard. Something bad warned him to prepare him- self, and, there being nv one in the car, he had no difficulty in clipping off his mustache, with a pair of scissors, and donning a full false beard of sandy tint. Scarce a moment later two rough looking men came along the platform with lanterns. Quickly laying baby Lily on the seat, he threw his over- coat over her, and, leaning over, rested his elbow on the window-sill. The men with the Ianterns came along, and paused. : é ‘* Humph!” one said. ‘IT told you it was more likely the Folkstone train, Dick.” “Maybe it was,” the other growled, doubt- fully. ‘The chap ain’t here, anyhow.” Then, they gave Sir Ralph another searching glance, and passed on, 3 ‘* They were after me,” the wronged husband muttered. ‘‘In Heaven’s name, what foul con- spiracy can now be working against me?” It was a question he was not able to solve, just then. His opportune disguise evidently ad saved him from trouble. Three stations out of London a long-whiskered, portly man got into the compartment and took a seat, } When the train was once more under motioa, this person touched Sir Ralph upon the shoulder, and said: ‘¢ Revere, I know you.” The baronet wheeled around witha smothered _ curse, “Who are you?” he demanded, his eyes glow ‘ing desperately, — st SNe ci

Page 7

‘“‘Tam Joe Demond, the detective,” was the reply, ‘‘and I am sent to find a defaulter named Sir Ralph Revere. Do you think I will be like- ly to find him, here?” Sir Ralph did not reply. He was dumfounded—horror-struck. ‘‘ What do you mean?” he gasped, after a ong. silence. ‘In God's name, what’s the mat- ter?’ “Oh! nothing unusual,” Demond replied. ‘‘Tord Mt. Morey suggested to me to-night that the bank of which he is a director, and you have until to-night been acting as cashier, is l.cking in funds, to the amount of ten thousand dollars, in bonds and paper, and sus- picioned you. I jumped ahead one train toin- tercept you, and here I am.” “This is an outrageous lie. I left the bank without drawing even my own dues, much less stealing,” Sir Ralph cried, indignantly. ‘If you don’t believe me, search me and my ef- fects. “That is needless exertion,” Demond respond- ed, ya a “Tf you will take pains to put your hands in your side side coat pocket you will find the neat little package where you were seen to place it.” ’ With a gasp of incredulity, Sir Ralph obeyed, aod drew forth a package, as the detective had said. ‘* Heaven help me! this is an infamous con- spiracy to ruin me,” he cried. ‘‘I never put that package in my pocket.” “That is not for me to say, Sir Ralph. My duty is to recover this money, and help you to slide out of England.” “What! you help me to escape?” “Yes. The bank has detectives waiting for you, at Liverpool. I am employed by your friend, Mt. Morey. He directed me to recover this money, put it in my own pocket, and help you dodge the force at Liverpool.” “*T cannot see through it all,” Sir Ralph said, slowly. “It is all inexplicable to me.” “ Be that as it may, the next thing to consider is your escape, There is an old English woman of my acquaintance in the next car, who will take your child, muffle it up, and take it aboard the steamer as her own. I have an old man’s disguise with me for your use, and will fix you up so Satan won’t know you, after the guard takes your ticket.” And so it was arranged. . When Sir Ralph left the train and went aboard an ocean steamer, at cvetnCey it was as an in- firm old man, while baby and taken aboard by an old emigrant woman. The detective, Demond, was on hand, and by lying threw several detectives off the scent, who had assembled to nab Sir Ralph—at least so the baronet was told by Demond. And it was not until the vessel was well out of the Mersey that the baronet removed his dis- guise and felt easy and recovered his child. And when he reviewed his narrow escape from a conspiracy to ruin him, he could but thank Mt. Morey and Demond, little dreaming / that it was all a put-up job, concocted by the former, to expedite his departure from English Hak =x shores! ily was bundled up, Wild-Frank, the Buckskin Brave. > ~ & CHAPTER IV. WILD FRANK DECLINES. THE scene once more reverts to the broad prairie, but at a period fifteen years later in the cana, never-ceasing stride of this life we ive, Fifteen years from the keen November night ~ when Wild Frank of Montana had left in his charge a little baby over whom to watch and care, He had been a youth then, but now the hard of time had matured him to robust manhood, as he swept across the Wyoming plains to-night, on the back of a thoroughbred mustang, am exact mate of his Black Bess of fifteen years ago. A man of barely medium hight, com aks built, yet clean-limbed, wiry and muscular, he sat his saddle with the reckless ease character- istic of the true son of the frontier, his elab- orately-fringéd buckskins and slouch hat pro- — claiming that he still followed the calling of a prairie scout, , In face he was changed. @ His features were more tanned from exposure, _ and a long, sweeping mustache and goatee, to- gether with his wealth of curling hair, which swept his shoulders, gave him a dashing appear- — ance. His weapons, consisting of a rifle and reyoly- ers, were of Government pattern, and richly trimmed. His course pointed westward to-night, and he urged his horse with an occasional application of the spur, his eagle glance sweeping the land- seape before him, Gi Net ‘ he night was clear moonlit, as had been the memorable one fifteen years before, only void of the stinging coldness, the air now being soft and warm, ““On, Startle,” the scout said—‘‘on, my boy! It’s but_a matter of five miles from yonder motte to the Papanaugh’s, where food and rest await us both.” The mustang kept on perseveringly, though — it was evident that he was wearied from a long — journey. ie Presently they approached a prairiemotte or — asmall body of timber, and Wild Frank reined his horse down toa walk, for he knew of a springy _ therein where water could be obtained for him- self and steed. ons He had not gained the corner of the timber, however, when a horseman suddenly dashed out in view, and drew rein before the scout’s path. A glance sufficed to warn Frank that it wasa — red-skin, and his rifle came to bear upon the In- ~ dian with wonderful quickness. ae The Indian gave a grunt in the negative. =. “Wild Frank fool!” he said, raising his rifle with the muzzle ee upward, toaramrodin — which was attached a white rag. ‘‘Scar-Face _ come not on war-path—come to talk.” ee “Tis lucky you chanced to have the rag ready, x + Tg my fine buck,” the scout said with a grin, “or — you'd be smokin’ the eternal pipe 0” pecs long afore this. What d’ye want with Wild Frank, — Thjun?” SAE ‘Scar-F:

Page 8

- ly. Ce Wild Frank, the =~ @ ase Buckskin Bravo. —_——_—— Frank demanded, his brow darkening. ‘‘ He trotted you off down here to shear off my pre- cious top-knot, eh?” and the scout’s rifle crept once more toward his shoulder. “No!” Scar-Face cried hastily. ‘‘ Wyoming Bill uo longer want Wild Frank’s scalp. He Sent message which explains.” And riding near, he took a folded paper from his belt and handed it to Wild Frank. Opening it, the Buckskin Bravo glanced over it, and then read it aloud in a voice filled with sarcastic contempt: “ Ourtaw's Ranou, November 20, 18— ““Wintp Frank:—After many attempts made to eapture you, none of which have been successful, I have dropped that game. You have beena hard pill fer us to swaller, an’ we’ve concluded we’d ruther hev a man o’ yer grit as a friend than a foe. So ef you'll quit warrin’ ag’in’ us. an’ join the gang, I'll make ye my first lieutenant. Money an’ whisky is plenty, an’ you'll find our lawless life a heap more moral an’ eddifyin’ than yerown, Send an answer back by Scar-Face, Yours truly, ““Wyromine Bru.” A wild laugh escaped the Buckskin Brayo as he tore the paper into bits. ‘¢ So, the bold lion of the hills has got his fill with the prairie panther, eh?” he said, mocking- “Well, I am not surprised. My only amazement is that Bill should not know me well enough from experience to be assured I \ would tear off my own scalp before I'd accept such terms from him. A bitter foe to outlaws, villains and ruffians at large, from infancy up, I am not likely to change my feelings toward them at this lata stage in my life. You can tell Wyoming Bill this, red-skin, and tell him also that Wild Frank defies him, and has regis- tered an oath to hunt him down and bring him to justice, together with the whole of his rene- ' gade gang. Go, now—get up and dust before I If Wyoming Bill — impress makes it his bore a hole through you! desires to hear further from me, it on his memory that Wild Fran home at Papanaugh’s Ranch.” Scar-Face nodded, and setting the spurs to ‘his mustang, dashed away across the prairie in an eastern course. Wild Frank watched him until he had disap- peared, more than once griping his rifle tightly, _ as though tempted to shoot him. 7 Finally he rode on into the motte, watered his horse at the spring, and then set on westward across the prairies, pondering, as he rode, over this meeting with Scar-Face. ‘So deep were his reflections that he did not arouse until he heard the crack of a rifle and the whiz of a bullet close to his head. It took but a glance to discover the author of the attack. A horseman was just disappearing over the erest of a prairie billow, not a thousand yards in advance of him. With a shrill yell Wild Frank gave his mus- tang the rein, and dashed away in hot pursuit, bent on learning who was his new foe. His first thought was that it was some mem- ber of Wyoming Bill’s infamous gane, But on gain ing the crest of the billow, over which his assailant had vanished, he saw his error. Se Below, in a snug little pocket valley, was pitched a camp, where several camp-fires were burning in front of marquee tents, with a couple of prairie schooners and teams of mules near at hand. Aman was just dismounting from a horse. near one of the camp-fires, and a knot of sever: men and women clustered around him, With his rifle ready for use, Wild Frank gal- loped down into the camp, expecting every mo- ment he would be fired upon, but in this was happily mistaken. , he people appeared to be more alarmed than belligerent, and when he drew rein they stood huddled together and regarded him with doubt- ful glances, ‘* What do you want here?’ the dismountedl horseman, a burly, well-dressed man, with heavy side-whiskers, asked. “‘T came here to inquire what business you have to practice target shooting upon inoffensive travelers?” the Buckskin Bravo replied. “I don’t generally swallow lead pills without know- ing why they were prescribed.” CHAPTER V. WYOMING BILL, THE OUTLAW. PAPANAUGH’S RANCH was not a city. Some half a dozen log cabins and their accompanying outbuildings were scattered aout on the prai- rie, of which Joh Papanaugh owned the largest of the lot and it bore the same name which clung to the settlement. The population did notexceed sixty or seventy, not counting the transients, and were for the most part herders and their families. be was a gra e of ene 8S post-office, grocery store an ing post, pre- sided over by John Papanaugh or his Aras de ter Ella, who was known far and near as the Humming Bird. The Papanaughs were half-breeds, but despite this fact, no prettier maiden existed on the bor- ders of Wyoming than Humming Bird. She was of medium hight, well rounded and aceful as a fawn. Her complexion, though just a trifle dusky, harmonized well with her joyous features, and the brilliancy of her mag- netic black eyes, and her hair when allowed to fall back over her shoulders reached half-way to her feet, in a silken rippling wave. Except when angered, she wasever joyful and nearly always singing. Possessed of a rich, pure voice, and a knowl- edge how to use it, none could rival her in song, and she won her Indian name of Humming Bird from her musical proclivities. John Papanaugh was a swarthy, herculean fellow very reticent, and inclined to mind no one’s business but his own. He never’ spoke un- less spoken to, and when aroused to anger, he was known asa desperate fighter. Papanaugh’s Ranch was a general stopping point for trappers, hunters and overland parties bound for the mines, and it was not unusual for the population of the town to be considerably in- creased by these transients. Yet, strange to say, on that same night, on which Wild Frank rode down into the tourists’ camp, the Ranch had a scarcity of custom: — Three men only, besides J ohn Papanau, } f df te =e ea hy oats

Page 9

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. — y at a table playing a game of cards, and punish- ing considerable whisky to wash down the dust of the cards. Two of the.three, judging by the close resem- blance, were brothers. Both were burly, broad- shouldered men, with heavy black hair, mus- tache and goatees, and were roughly dressed. Exposure to the sun,and wind had tanned them to almost an Indian color, and, too, the expres- sion of their faces was anything but saintly. They were armed to tke teeth, and might safe- ly have been classed as ugly customers, The third man was a slim individual, with ap- parently but little flesh upon his bones, and a spare, pinched face fully as villainous in its-ex- pression as those of the two brothers. Hismouth was broad, his nose hooked, and his insignificant eyes were shaded by a pair of spectacles. He wore a Frenchified mustache waxed to a point at the ends, and was dressed in a suit of seedy broadcloth, and a misused, out-of-style silk hat. An observer would have set the two first de- scribed down as thoroughbred ruffians, and the little man of the goggles a cringing villain. Yet, at Papanaugh’s, the trio were regarded with no particular dislike by the residents in eneral, despite the wonderment ever rife as to ow they made their living. j The little man, Dr. Deering, had first set him- self up as a Justice of the Peace, but Wild Frank had proven him a humbug in that capacity, as he had no papers or authority whatever for such an office. He had then mixed in with the Harris broth- ers, and the trio loated about witbout any par- ticular occupation, except once in a while to purchase a few furs from the Indians. __- Yet they always seemed to have plenty of money, and when hanging about the settle- ment kept well soaked with whisky. At times they would be absent from the settlement for a week to a month or longer, and then would re- turn and hang around for as long a time, and drink, gamble and carouse. Perhaps it was from some secret fear of them that the people of Papanaugh’s never molested them, for there was suspicion in the mind of more than one that they did not come by their money honestly. To-night they appeared to be more interested in a subdued conversation that ran between them, than in the game of cards the ee ohn. Jaying, and frequent glances at stoli Ba anaugh, who sat dozing near the fireplace, with a pipe in his mouth, proved that they were not desirous that he should catch the drift of their conversation. “Tf he refuses to join us,” Dr. Deering said, with a low oath, ‘‘ then he must die—that is all. We've either got to move out, or Wild Frank has.” “Curse him!” Jim, the eldest of the Harris brothers, bissed, spitefully, ‘‘I would like to see him planted, even better than would the boss. For five years he’s been pickin’ off the gang until there’s only four whites left, and the devil only knows how many of the reds he’s checked off. Yet he goes on killing them, and ‘escapes the traps set for him, as though possess- ed of as many lives as the proverbial cat. Some- thing, truly, must be done,” Se ‘*T reckon I’ve got the most cause to com: plata Bob Harris growled. “As ye well now, et’s the cussed scout that’s turned Hum- ae Bird’s thoughts from me.” ah! you’re weak!” the doctor sneered.’ “Faint heart never won fair Weigh you know. If you've got a grudge ag’in’ Wild Frank,you’re He very one best calculated to slip 2, knife into 1m. *Humph! I ain’t a fool,” Bob declared, sour- ly. “If you'll find a pilgrim about the Ranch, with grit enough to tackle Wild Frank, single handed, Pll buy a round of whisky. Fer one I want him quieted, so I can sail in and win Hum- ming Bird.” ‘So ye’r’ bluffed down by the little scout, eh?” Jim Harris grunted. ‘Waal, now 1 opine ef it war my love case, I’d tell durned quick who was the best man—me or Wild Frank. All you want todois totalk turkey to the Humming Bird, an’ tell her ef she don’t marry you her fate is decided, Ef she sees ye mean business, you bet she’ll come to terms.” ‘Sh? Deerin Ranch opened. ‘‘Here comes somé one. the captain, in disguise.” Ah! warned, as the door to the ~ A man of great stature had just entered. He - wastully asix-footer, and broadly proportioned. He was clad in brown overalls, overshirt stogy boots, with a slouch hat upon his head, and a cloak thrown around his shoulders, The bat was slouched down to the eyes, and was met by a shaggy black heard that nearly, hid the rest of the face, except the nose and piercing black eyes. He entered with a quick glance about the room, and then advanced to where the trio were seated, ak Playa keerds, eh?” he said, ‘* Waal, I don’t keer ef I do take a hand fer a drink.” When he had seated himself at the table be- tween Bob and Jim Harris, he continued in a hushed tone: ‘Sh! mum’s the word. Big stake ahead. Tourists camped in Pretty Pocket. Old English lord with more money than Croesus and a lovely daughter in the bargain.” CHAPTER VI. THE TOURISTS’ CAMP. THE words of the Buckskin Bravo caused the offending tourists to flush with anger, * Aw,” he said, in an affected tone, ‘' ze Ameri- can speak angry without ze proper cause, and without ze respect due ze French nobleman. Ze Frenchman see American on ze prairie and mistake him for ze Injean, an shoot at him.” “TJ doubt very much if you wereso much mis taken as that,” Wild Frank retorted. ‘Unless your éyes are poor you could have distinguished me from an Indian in this moonlight.” e eyes zey are very poor,” the Frenchman ented: adjusting a pair of gold-rimmed glasses to the rim of his nose, *‘ Ze American no business abroad on ze prairies when ze night falls, for 20, travelers to frighten.” “T opine it is nene of your business who roams this free soil n¢tor nightfall,” Frank said, sternly. “It is evil you are a coward, an Ican read in your fs) tha: : and — tyour shout atme

Page 10

8 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. was intentional, But for the presence of these ladies, I should be tempted to give you a good sound thrashing on the spot. That’s the kind of a man I am!’ “Aw! zo American really must parding ze French nobleman for refusing to fight. I have ze distingue honor of being Count Alpaonse de Rablee, ze chemist merchante prince of ze city of Paris. Ze French gentleman nevar fight ze inferiore in rank.” _ “Ze French coward nevar fight ze bold knight of ze prairies,” Wild Frank retorted, sarcasti- cally, ‘‘ because he is afraid. Hat ha!” + And he wheeled his horse around to depart. “Stop,” another man of the group said, com- mandingly—an older person, with white hair and side-whiskers, and every appearance of ad- vanced age. ‘Don’t be so fast, my man. I will apologize to you for the count, who was merely winning a wager. He sallied forth on a wager that he’d get a shot at one of the Aborigines, and doubtless mistook you for one, this being his first visit to the plains. If this explanation is satisfactory, we should be pleased. to have you camp with us for the night, as we are sadly in need of a scout and guide, which I perceive you are.” “True, [ am a scout, but at liberty,” the Bravo replied. ‘ whom f am ag gga 3 3 “Certainly, sir. am Lord Henry Mt. Morey, of London, and a member of the Eng- lish parliament elect. The lady on my right is my Lady Mt. Morey, and the young lady on my left is Lady Lillian, my ward, The rest of my arty is composed of Count Alphonse de Rablee. Baise Slick, a noted English barrister, and Henry Irving, my footman.” Ah!” Wild Frank said, with a slight start of surprise, and a quick searching glanco at Lady Lillian, who was ono of the prettiest young maidens he had ever seen—a sunny- faced, sunny-haired little thing of seventeen or eighteen, attired in a tasty walking habit and jaunty fur cap. Then he turned to Lord Mt. orey. “But, what brings you here on the prairies so late in the season, sir?” “Address me as ‘my lord,’ please,” the Eng- lishman said, austerely. ‘‘ It sounds better, you know—more respectful.” _ “T prefer not,” Frank answered, ‘There is but one Lord whom I look up to, and he is not of flesh. I therefore will address no man on earth as my lord. If you wish to address me and receive a civil United States answer, I am open for a confab. Otherwise, I am not!” “Good for you, scout! I honor your senti- ments,” Lady Lily cried, with enthusiasm, but Mt. Morey only flushed with rage. “Carse me, but your insolence is unpazdon- able!” he cried, striking the ground fiercely with resent not at ay I inquire his cane, “and were it not for our unenviable situation, from which we must be extricated, I'd ek you horsewhipped within an inch of your e “T dare say,” the Buckskin Bravo said, with a peculiar smile, ‘‘ Your condition would prop- ably need still further repairs, after such a change. If your health is af all satisfactory, you'd better remain calm, as sudden changes of Pi temperature have been known to result fatally, here in the West,” “You are right. I'll not quarrel with you,” Mt. Morey wisely concluded. ‘ You see, our ease is like this: We are a party of English tourists who have been doing the Territories for health and pleasure. We started several weeks ago, overland for the nearest railway point, bound for the States, when our guide—a half- breed—took offense and deserted us, yesterday ; and here we are, at a standstill, without any knowledge of our surroundings, or how #o reach the railway.” “A bad fix, sure enough,” Wild Frank de- clared. ‘' You could never reach the railway now, even with a guide—at least, it would bea risky undertaking.” “Why, peere his lordship demanded, with a seared look, “ Because you'd fall into the hands of’ one of several bands of vagabond reds, who are lying low for just such picnics as this, between here and the railroad. In addition, there will be a blinding snow-storm of the blizzard pattern, day after to-morrow, which would be apt to use up what the reds leave of you.” The faces of the tourists became doubly anx- ious—all except that of Lady Lily. ‘* How do you know this to be true?” she ques- tioned, modestly. ‘*T know thar’s reds, because I’m justin from a week’s scout among them,” Frank replied. ‘I know there will be a storm from signs taught me by lifelong experience on the frontier,” ‘Then what are we to do?” ** You have a choice of two Spings: turn back to Papanaugh’s Ranch, or camp here, and pre- pare for a week of winter, or more.” ‘* We will remain here,” Mt. Morey decided, ** And ze scout better go now,” the count sug- gested, with a frown, noting Wild Frank’s glances at Lady Lily. CHAPTER VII. * THE HUMMING BIRD, ‘You could hardly press me to remain, I fancy,” Wild Frank returned. ‘I have heard said a jealous Frenchman was akin to a rattle snake bite, and so I will vamoose, until an op- ortunity comes for me to draw the rattlesnake’s hanes. a! ha! Good niet to you all!” ‘“Good-night!” Lady Lily said, earnestly, while the others looked displeased, Count Al. phonse in particular. ‘‘I am sure we are all greatly obliged to you, and shall be glad to have you call again.” Seeing that the Frenchman was greatly ag- gravated, Wild Frank waved his slouch som- brero back, gallantly, and Lady Lily took off her own pretty fur cap and returned the parting salute. “She is a pretty maid,” the Buckskin Bravo muttered, as he dashed up out of the valley, and across the level prairie, to the westward. ‘ Fair and graceful, thoroughly intelligent and modest, she is just the kind of a woman I would like to eall Mrs. Wild Frank. Ha! ha! the idea of a literal old bach like me talking of a wife! T reckon she wouldn’t use one of us prairie purps. for a door-mat, even,” : Shea ee a He spoke’a trifle bitterly, as though some time -

Page 11

: Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. in his eventful life he had been crossed by some maiden, fair but over proud. A strange fit of moodiness seemed to fall over him as he rode along, and his head dropped for- ward upon his breast, with a long, deep sigh. The moonlight showered down upon his shoul- ders, as if in sympathy with him, and scintillated upon several tear-drops that had fallen upon his mustang’s neck. . , We did not arouse until his steed came toa : halt, and then he came out of his reverie with a start. Before him was a circle of low-growing shrubs, of the sage-bush order, and within that circle was a green grassy mound, at the head of which gleamed a little marble slab, partly over- grown with creeping vines. , “Ah! Startle, why did you bring me here, to- night?” he said, passing his hand across his fore- head. ‘‘ Did some subtle instinct tell you that I was thinking with sadness of the one who lies buried yonder?” He slipped from the saddle and went over and knelt beside the mound, his chin resting upon his hand, and his eyes fixed upon the headstone over which vines crept clingingly, and proud myrtles nodded in sympathy. “‘ There is to be a clearing up of the pk da fy and by,” he murmured—‘* something plainly tells me that. And if I mistake not, it will rend more hearts than one.” He again relapsed into silence, and remained so until a touch upon his shoulder caused him to start to his feet. c “Humming Bird!” he exclaimed, gazing in surprise at the beauteous half-bre@il irl who stood near. ‘‘ Why are you here, so far from the ranch?” “ Because I thought I could find you here, scout, Many times the Humming Bird has found the Buckskin Bravo kneeling by this lone- ly grave. Why is it so?” “The same answer that I have given to you as many times as we have chanced to meet here, Birdie,” the scout said, sadly. ‘* The grave con- tains all that is earthly of one whom I once knew asa pure, true-hearted friend. I never pass this spot unless to stop in reverence to the remem- bered dead. But, tell me, Humming Bird, what brings you here to search for me, when you rors not lout what I was far away upon the trai “Something told the Humming Bird that she would find Wild Frank here, and she came, She was lonely at the ranch, and she yearned to see the scout, once more to tell him that she loves him. A pained expression shot athwart the Bravo's features, and he came closer to the pretty half- breed girl, laying one hand upon her fair, round shoulder. : y “ Birdie,” he said, slowly, ‘‘ I have on more than one occasion told you that I. could not re- ard you in a lover-like way. From infancy we AES known each other, and [haveregarded you with sisterly affection, but not as a husband should think of a wife. Heart-free, and hand- free, as I am, I prefer toremain for the few years yet allotted me to live.” : “Tf heart free, then Humming Bird may still _ bope that the Buekskin Bravo will yet learn to love her,” the half-breed girl said. ‘Humming Bird will never marry unless she can haye the Bravo. She has said it.” ° “Say not so,” Wild Frank replied, ‘for you - have many other admirers worth two like me, in a husbandly sense. There is Jack de Herne— « as wealthy and worthy a young herder as we have upon the border, He would cut off his right hand to possess you.” ; “He has never spoken words of love to the ~ Hummimg Bird,” was the doubting answer. ‘** Because you never gave him the chance, from always hovering about me,” the scout declared. “You had better go now—it is getting well on into the night, and John Papanaugh will be anx- ious about his sister,” ~ ‘‘John Papanaugh is no fool,” the maiden re- plied, ‘‘The Humming Bird knows these prai- ries too well to be lost in a dark night, even. Where is Frank going?” “Over to the camp of my pards, on Lily Creek. It has been a round month since I re- ported.” “The Humming Bird will go back to the ranch,” the girl announced. ‘But before she goes, Buckskin Bravo must promise her one thing—promise it sacredly—swear it!” “What is that, Birdie? It is seldom Wild Frank registers an oath—it is never he breaks one. ¥ “T want you to swear,” the half-breed girl said, raising her dusky orbs toward the great moon, which soared overhead—‘“ I want, you to promise that if you cannot love and wed me, — you will never love or wed any one else—espe~_ cially the pale-faced, stuck-up girl at the tour- ists’ camp.” ee Wild Frank startéd, so sudden was the thrust. Humming Bird had been near then, at the time _ of his visit to the camp! : ; Eos he disguised his surprise by a light little — laugh. : ‘*Oh, as to that, there is no need of exacting a promise, for the haughty English beauty would disdain to be courted by the rough son of | ~ the plains, even were he disposed, which he is not, Therefore there is no necessity of such a promise, Birdie.” ‘*T say there is!” the girl flashed back, stamp- ing her foot. ‘Well, well, we won’t quarrel about it,” the scout said, patting her on the head. “You have always been a friend tome when others haye turned aside, so I will make the promise, in a modified way; If perchance-I fall in love with another, and wish to marry, I will first come and ask your permission, and abide by © your decision.” z . “Good! - Humming Bird thanks the Buckskin Bravo!” the girl said, tears of gratitude entering

Page 12

10 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. for her. Humming Bird isnot blind, however. It is in the prairie grave, back yonder, that Frank's love lies buried, and it will never be resvtrrected unless by the proud-faced beauty at the tourists’ camp. For Humming Bird no hope is left—no hope is left, except in the grave!” And she burst into sobs of lonely grief. CHAPTER VIII. OUTLAWS PLOTTING, To return to the Ranch. é The words of the new-comer caused the thre: villains to start up interestedly. ““What’s this you say?’ Jim Harris demand- ed, “If thar’s anything spicy, give us the full particulars.” The stranger glanced cautiously round the room, again, and then continued, in an under- tone: “There's a fat stake, if properly worked. A party of English tourists is camped over here, a ways—four men and two women, all told. One of the women is a g’hal, and a reg’lar bloomin’ primrose, too, you bet! Set it down im your memorandum, she’s my meat. Then there’s a grizzled old English cock-sparrow—a reg’lar ous aristocrat from London, with Lord hitched onto the fore-part of his name—he’s the king-pin of the party, and carries the swag.” ‘“ How much?” the doctor asked, eagerly. “That remains to be told,” Wyoming Bill re- plied, significantly. ‘“‘You kin bet high his treasury is fat, for these old British skunks don’t goa-ballooning about the country without plenty of ballast.” .- “Of course not,” Bob Harris agreed. ‘‘ 'Bhe fruit tastes good, and there is no reason why we shall not pluck it,” “Tt may prove to be like Eve's fruit,” Dr. Deering suggested, philosophically. ‘‘ How- ever, the captain is boss.” “It can be worked like a charm. There is no need of our even venturing a hand. Scar-Face and the reds can swoop down and gobble ‘em up, and fetch ’em to the headquarters, There we can relieve them of their valuables, retain the girl, and turn the old’uns loose on the prairie to graze.” “A good plan,” Jim Harris decided. ‘ But while we’re talking over matters, what’s to be done with his nibs, Wild Frank? He’s been al- together too flush o’ late, to suit our notion, an’ T reckon he’s s’picioned us, too. First we know he'll have us pounced upon by the marshal for bein’ connected with you and the gang. ‘* He must be planted,” Wyoming Bill cried, springing cee. to his feet. He quickly dropped back in his chair, however, with a muffled curse. _ “I forgot myself, so intensely do I hate that scout,” he added, in a tow, hoarse voice. ‘I can prescribe no better fate for him, than hand- ing him over to the reds, for the stake. I opine there’s enough grease about him to make him burn first-rate,” “Yas,” the doctor said, drawlingly, ‘But this is talk. How many traps have we laid for - this devil’s own, all to no avail. Three times __ we've had him in our power, only to have him rescued by his pards—Le"* ch’ Len and Eagle ; “True; but we must iat to cage him this time, so he won’t break loose. I havea pee which I think will be successful. I will see Sear-Face to-night and arrange to have him pounce down upon the tourists, to-morrow night, and capture them. We'll come here, to- morrow night, also, and if Wild Frank turns up, as I’ve an idea he will, we'll take him and run him off to headquarters. ‘Should he not chance to be here, we'll nab the Humming Bird, whom Bob’s struck on, and take her along. When Wild Frank learns that both the gals are gone, he'll rightly conclude who’s got ’em and make a strike for the hills again, in search of our retreat. We'll have spotters out, and be- fore he is scarcely aware of it, he’ll find himself in our power, and at our mercy. How like you the Cate “Tt is a bully one!” Bob Harris agreed, elated at his prospect of gaining possession of the Humming Bird without openly attacking the Bravo, Wild Frank, “Yes, it suits us,” the doctor and Jim Harris assented, “Then if is settled. To-morrow night we will meet here, ready for business. I will come ina different disguise, but one that you will recognize.” E ‘When she had recovered from the paroxysm of grief, the Humming Bird turned her steps back toward the settlement, mechanically, her face still gloomy and tear-stained. When she arrived in sight of the settlement, she halted, and drawing a little whistle from her pocket, blew a shrill blast upon it. Shortly after a trim Indian pony galloped out from among the cabins, and over to her side, with a whinny of recognition. Springing upon his back, and Bena him to- ward the west, Humming Bird gave the word, and he galloped away gracefully. For fully an hour the half-breed girl rode on before she drew rein; then it was in a deep, rocky canyon that split in twain a range of rugged hills. It was a dark, lonesome place, where the moonlight did not penetrate, yet enough light crept down from the starry dome above to enable one to see a /few yards before, Dismounting, Humming Bird left her pony to graze, while she hurried on into the depths of the canyon. All around her rocky walls rose high and steep, and upon them were engraven strange rude pictures of Indians, animals and weapons, chiseled out probably by savage sculp- tors of centuries past and gone. Taking no notice of thesé pictures, the Hum- » ming Bird hurried on until she came to where a series of stone steps had been chiseled into the face of the left rocky wall, at the top of which there was a round hole in the face of the moun- tain, no larger than would admit a person’s hand, yet extending to untold depth. Ascending these steps, and kneeling before the Spereare, the Humming Bird spoke in the Sioux congue: “Ugh! Great medicine-woman!” ; A few minutes elapsed, then came back an answer in a voice that sounded strange and se- pulchral: x js Cor

Page 13

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo, ii “Who calls upon Ummagog, the Spirit Medi- cine-Woman of the Manitou?’ “Tt is Humming Bird,” the girl replied. ‘¢ What wants the half-breed girl in the mid of night, when earthly beings are supposed to slumber?” was the next query. ‘The heart of the Humming Bird is sad. Her lover, the Buckskin Bravo, no longer cares for her, and will not take her to his wigwam. Humming Bird comes to the Great Medicine for words that will bring back the Bravo to her.” ‘““Tt is not in the power of the Great Medicine to change the likes or dislikes of mankind,” came from the aperture. ‘‘ Let Humming Bird return to the Ranch on the prairies.” “Humming Bird will obey. But first she wishes to ask one favor.” “ What is that?” ‘t She prays the good medicine-woman to put obstacles in the way, so that Wild Frank, the Buckskin \Bravo, may not hereafter meet and love the ogee lady called Lady Lillian,” ‘* Who and where is she?” “She is with a party of tourists, encamped upon the prairie ten miles east.” “Lady Lillian who?” ““T do not know.” i ‘Who are her companions?” * An English lord and lady, a French count, a doctor, and a valet.” . ‘““ What is the name of the English lord?” ‘Lord Mt. Morey.” * And the count?” ‘Count de Rablee.” * And the doctor?” *¢ Casper Slick.” “Very well; medicine-woman will remember the request of the Humming Bird, who better look for another lover. Let her choose one of her own race.” ; “The pale-face isas much Humming Bird’s race as the red-man,” the maiden returned, then she turned, descended the steps, sought her horse, and rode away once more over the moon- lit prairie toward Papanaugh’s, CHAPTER IX. ANGEL GABRIEL. Wiip Frank, after parting with the Hum- ming Bird, rode directly to the camp of his rds, Laughing Len and Eagle Eye, which was located about four miles northeast of Papa- naugh’s settlement. The camp was oli in a tiny prairie valley, or pocket, upon the shore of a little pond, which was fed by a spring that’ gurgled out from the pide of the hill. It was a famous night-stop for overland par- ties familiar with the country, as there was plenty of timber of the chaparral order near at hand, pure water, fresh grass and lots of buffalo- fish in the lake. A bright fire was burning before a solitary tent, as Wild Frank descended the slope toward the lake, and around it were gettered three per- sons. Two of them he readily recognized—the wiry, hump-backed little trapper, Len, and the stalwart, brawny ex-Sioux chief, Eagle Eye. The third person he could not place in his mem- ory, and yet failed to recognize him even when he rode into camp and dismounted. He was a very aged person, of over medium hight, yet very thin in flesh, with long hair and — a great sweeping beard which covered the most of his face, and all of which was of snowy whiteness. He reminded Wild Frank of a picture he had - once seen of legendary Rip Van Winkle, as he sat upon a log near the fire, partly leaning for- ward on a staff, for he was even as ragged as — Rip after awakening from his long repose. ‘Hello! Back, aire ye?’ Laughing Len ~ grunted, knocking the ashes out his pipe. * Flow’s Injun?” ‘Rather noisy. Indications are that itll he a blustery winter with ’em,” the Buckskin Bravo answered. ‘‘ Who's this old delegate you have here?” “Tam the Angel Gabriel!” the old man said, facing abqut and eying Frank keenly, ‘‘I am here to warn all sinners to prepare, for it lacks but a few days of the time when I shall toot my — trumpet.” “‘Oh! is that so?” Frank exclaimed, but with a smile, for he quickly saw the light of insanity burning deep in the eyes of the stranger. ‘‘So we can all prepare to shuffle off our coil, eh?” ; ‘Verily so saith I,” was the grim response, and the prophet again fixed his gaze upon the fire, and relapsed into silence. “Yas, that "tarnal cuss tumbled down inter ~ camp ter-night,” Len said, ‘‘ an’ preached er ; dom kum, as long as yer arm, so I reckoned it must be so, or he wouldn’t say et. An’I war — jest considerin’ about sendin’ Eagle Eye over ter the ranch to gita supply of tobacco for the trip — when I see’d you comin’!” : Then the scout went off into a hearty laugh, . and laughed till he had to hold his sides in pain. Cs “Ugh! Grabel crazy,” Eagle Hye said, gruffly. ‘* He big fool like drunk squaw. ; “No, I am not crazy, or drunk,” the Stranger — spoke up. ‘‘I’m Gabriel—the great and only | Gabriel, and the toot of my trumpet shall be — heard throughout the land.” ‘ “Where is your trumpet, brother Gabriel?” Wild Frank asked. : “Tt shall be handed down to me by aregiment — of winged messengers from above, in due — time,” was the solemn response, * Sas Then the old fellow rolled himself up in a — blanket that Eagle Eye had given him, and — lay-near the fire, closing his wild eyes as if for — re) ‘What's to be done with him?” Len demand- ed, calling Wild Frank one side, after a while, — “ He’s crazy, eh?” % ““Yes—touched somewhere. Let him alone, — and he’ll harm no one.” ote «Get out! He might lift our hair while we're — sleeping!” B NY “Pshaw! Ill run the risk of mine, and it’s — longer than yours. Angel Gabriel’s all right, if — you let him alone.” 4 He appeared to be sleeping peacefully when — the scouts rolled themselves up in their blankets, — and they felt no particular fear from his pres- — nw vee” ence. si ats Yet it is an old and wise saying that appear« —

Page 14

i2 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo, ances are deceitful, and it proved so in this | asunder with as much ease as though it had been made of straw, and sprung once more to his feet with a pair of cocked revolvers in his hands, to meet—Doctor Deering! “The d—1!” the doctor gasped, evidently not expecting the weapons, ‘Put up your hands!” ‘He! he!” sneered the maniac. ‘‘I won't do it. Free again, devil—free this time for good. We ain’t in Deermg’s private lum now, are we? Ho! ho! I guess not. I’d shoot you now, only I've got other matters to attend to. But you shall hear the toot of Gabriel’s trumpet, soon—take my word for that!” CHAPTER X. DEERING TRIES A DEAL. DEERING grew livid with rage when he saw that Angel Gabriel was prepared and disposed to defend himself. “Fool!” he cried, stamping his foot, ‘‘do you not know that your plan is fruitless? Drop your weapons at once, and return to the cave and remain there till I return.” ‘*T won't!” Gabriel answered, doggedly. “Refuse, curse you, and Dll let the blood- hounds loose, that nightly howl before the ‘door of your dungeon. They’llmake quick work of case, _ No sooner did the distinct heavy breathing of the soouts become audible, than the maniac stirred, then cautiously raised upon one elbow. . His eyes were now gleaming with intense cunning. Not apparently satisfied that they were sleep- ing, he seized a pebble and tossed it over on the ground near their heads, and lay quickly back upon his blanket. No stir was made by the pards, which appear- -ed to be proof that they were asleep. The hear- ing of the prairie scout is as keen as the scent of ~ a hound, and, unless very sound asleep, it does not require much to disturb him—a fact that the ' mania¢ seemed to comprehend. Ss argu he took a good look at the surround- : far before making a further move. ; hen, crouching, he stole cautiously toward where the pards were rolled in their blankets, a at Pia not so much noise as a cat might have made. sig | a vial of whitish liquor from his pocket, @ held it to Wild Frank’s nose. Then . he repeated the operation on Laughing Len, and next on Hagle Hye. _ This seomed to satisfy him, for he gave vent to a strange laugh, and spurned each of the _ sleepers with his foot, and, as they awakened not, he knew that they were unconscious, ‘Now I will know what I want to know,” he - said, kneeling by Wild Frank’s side and rum- - maging in his pockets. ‘They thought I wasa i but made a grand miscalculation.” This thought seemed to please him, for he - lauched long and loud. ; He took everything out of Wild Frank’s aes but failed to find what he sought for ere. * “Ves, this is he—I was not wrong,” he mut- tered: “but he has not the proof—the blessed proof, Ha! ha! with that I could meet the vul- ires, and face them out in their imposition.” ' _ He was not satisfied still, and next searched Laughing Len and Eagle Eye, and the saddle : Mappings of the party. But with the same re- su ‘* Ha! ha! let ’em loose!” the maniac replied, with a cunning grin, “They won’t hurt any- one. 4 “Why not?” “Because I cut their heads off when I got free. He! he! Mr, Deering, you've lost your patient! Goseek another. [’m free—free, For ears I’ve been crazy, but, now that I am free, feel better. Twice before I eluded you, and the Mother of Satan came to me and anointed the spot on my head you used to pound, ‘I’lifind her. He! he! then you'll hear the trumpet. Ha! ha! ha!” And turning he sped away once more, The moon went under a cloud at this instant, and when it emerged Deering had lost sight of the fees ebiensieg(® bs an urses on my stupidity!” he roar atin his teeth soeaithers i sneer “Tf Ido not recover him, my pie is dough. But, pshaw! it will be no difficult matter to eapture him, if I set the right agents after him. And in the mean time, the plan I have been so long conceiving. has arrived at something like maturity, and it behooves me to strike while the iron is hot.” ; __. He then rose to his feet, and glared about him fiercely, passing his hands before his eyes sey- eral times, _ _ “Thave failed. My only hope is to lie in wait a for my man,” he muttered, ‘‘and get him cor- ~ nered, Then, if I don’t find out what I want, _ TPlleut his heart out and eat it.” His threat seemed to remind him of some- hing, for he went back, removed Eagle Eye's belt, and strapped it upon his own waist, and then thrust the weapons of the three scouts into t. 2 Laughing wildly, he turned and pranced out of _ the camp, in the way a frisky colt might have done, seeming to be overjoyed at his freedom. _His-course he shaped so that it would bring d im to the touristy’ camp, but he was destined not to reach it without interruption. He had accomplished scarcely half the dis- tance when there wasa whizzing sound, and a lasso settled around his waist, and threw him to the ground. | ; i 3 z enced eized with a sudden fury, he tore the noose ae ‘ ee

Page 15

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 13 hunting-knife from his belt, he cut a slit in one Side of the tent large enough to admit of the ‘passage of a, man’s body without trouble. He then stood still and listened, to learn if the noise thereby occasioned had aroused any of the occupants of the tent, No stir being audible, he waited a matter of ten minutes longer—then parted the canvas, and peered within. Lord Mt. Morey lay with his head close to the aperture, a fact which seemed to increase Deering’s satisfaction, for his eyes gleamed, wickedly. Seizing the baronet around the throat with a vise-like gripe, he hauled him from the tent, and then quickly thrust the muzzle of a revol- ver into his mouth, “There! silence, now!” he commanded, stern- ly. “Utter but a single peep, and I blow your brains out.” Mt. Morey was a coward at heart and grew white with fear. Indeed, most any mortal would scarcely have envied him his position, “That's the ticket,” the doctor said, as he witnessed this obedience. ‘* Now, then, put up your paws, above your head, and follow me to the top of yonder hill, where we will sit down and have a confidential chat on business.” And he proceeded to walk off up the hill, backward, still keeping one hand on his lord- ship’s shoulder and the revolver muzzle between his lips. Mt. Morey followed with lamb-like submission, and altogether. it was a moving tab- Jeau such as had never been seen on that prairie, before. When they reached the crest of the hill, the doctor motioned ‘his lordship to a seat upon the rass, and assumed a like position himself, not orgetting, however, to keep his man covered. ‘There! we're by ourselves, now,” he an- nounced, with a chuckle of delight. ‘I went down and tuk you, purty clever like, didn’t I?” “T cannot understand the meaning of this strange and unwarrantable indignity,” his lord- ship eects half in anger, half in fear. “Oh! probably not,” provoking composure. ‘ 'Thar’s many a man as slips inter ther next world w’at don’t expect it till it comes, kinder suddint like.” ‘What! you don’t mean to murder me?” the | nobleman demanded, in horror, “Well, that depends how you act,” the doctor: averred, “If you answer all my questions, business-like, and make everything as clear as Taos lubricatin’ oil, [ opine I may let you re- tain possession of your ethereal substance awhile longer. But if you go to actin’ up muleish, T'll guarantee your baggage will pass over Canaan’s suspension bridge without any re- checking or fransferring whatever—you bet!” “Goon. I will answer any question in my power,” Mt. Morey humbly answered, his eyes never once leaving the revolver. = ‘*Oh! ye will, eh?’ Well, then, we'll resort to business. You’re Lord Mt. Morey, a high-cock- olorum from the Island, eh?” i **T am Lord Mt. Morey.” “Hey been travelin’ all over the U. 8., eh?” “T have traveled extensively in America,” ** Been searchin’ fer some one?” : **T have.” Boon advertising fer some one” eering answered with. “Pxactly, sir.” “Wound bim?? “T have not.” “ Revere was the name, eh?” **'Yes—do you know him?” ‘Shut up. What do you want of him?” “That, sir, is my private business.” “Took out! Tell me just the solid facts of the case, or Pll perforate you.” % ‘What can it matter to you?” “A great deal. Answer my question—what do you want of Ralph Revere?” Mt. Morey was silent a moment. “Tt cannot hurt to tell you} as I see,” he said. **T want Revere to prove an heirship. Years ago he fled from England to this country, to 8 evade justice. Shortly afterward a heavy leg- acy was bequeathed, as we first supposed to his wife, but afterward found to his daaghter. Re- vere’s flight had crazed his wife, and she was ~ the inmate of a private asylum. No one seemed 3 to know what had become of the child, which - had been left alone upon the world, so I took the ‘matter into my own hands, and; hunted it up. When I prodweed it, the executors of the de- ceased man v’ho had left the fortune, were sus- picins and over-careful, and would not surren- er the fortune until they had proof from both . of the parents. I took them and the child to the mad-house, but the mother would not eae nize her own offspring. I then threw the ma ter into the courts, but accomplished nothing, ~ after years of lawing. Yor five successive sea- — sons I have since toured America, in search of Ralph Revere, but all to no purpose.” We “The girl you have, of course, is not Revere’s own child!” Deering said, in a matter-of-fact way. : “Why not, pray?” ed “Oh! you'd hardly lavish so much time ead expense on another’s child—unjess you saw a wide channel for reimbursement,” Re Mt. Morey smothered an oath, : : “That matters not, sir. You know where — Revere is, do you?” k ‘© Oh! perhaps—again perhaps not.” vis ‘What will tempt you to tell his where- abouts?” he “Yam not prepared to set terms to-night. ~~ ho has charge of the fortune?” : “ An English representative of the party is on his way to join me upon the way East, now in a few days.” ; “Oh! then I'll wait,” Deering said. “TH see a again. And he arose abruptly and took — is leave. “CHAPTER XL THE FRENCHMAN WAXES BAD, Tue following day was a glorious one for November. y The sun arose in a clear pslege sky, flooded mother earth w‘th a bright, warm li

Page 16

° <p Soe ' show ze Lord Mt. 14 A storm was but a few hours off—a ‘“ bliz- zard,” as it was termed upor the prairies, which is composed of a blinding whirl of snow and wind, which lasts all the way from ten minutes to five days without cessation, as the case may be, and in which no son of the prairie ever cares to be caught. For it is certain bewilder- ment and death to attempt to wander in one of these storms when they last, as usual, three or four days, and it is equally dangerous to remain still, in one place. And although the morning was warm and In- dian summer-like, it did not deceive the settlers of Papanaugh’s, and they could be seen gallop- ing over different parts of the prairie ocean in quest of their respective herds, to bring them in to corral. “Big Storm!” John Papanaugh said, senten- tiously, as he stood in the doorway of the Ranch, and with his pretty sister, gazed out over the rolling expanse, which lay seemingly unbroken for miles to the eastward—as far as the nake eye could reach. | ‘‘ Bigger storm than comes in Loa Humming Bird mind Ranch—John go unt up cows. “Oh! no! Let me go for them,” the maiden aos eagerly. ‘‘Humming Bird find ’em eas- i ‘“* As you like, then. Hurry ’em into the cor- ral, or the blizzard’ll catch you.” With alacrity the Prairie Pet, as she had been aptly christened, obtained her horse, and was soon dashing away merrily across the dun prai- rie, Bae with seeming recklessness, : She had seen the ten cows which composed her brother’s herd, a couple of Maye before, in the vicinity of the prairie motte where Wild Frank had met the renegade chief, Scar-Face, and ac- cordingly headed her mustang in that direction now. In the course of an hour she drew rein at the edge of the motte, and dismounted. Entering the timber she ‘an a hasty search for the cat- tle, singing the while with touching sadness in her tone. She was perhaps thinking more about Wild Frank than of her errand, for, without being on her natural lookout, for danger, she ran most unexpectedly upon a foe, A man she met, almost face to face, and that man held a shot-gun leveled directly at her, It was the Count de Rablee, and an exultant smile mautled his disagreeable countenance, “ Ze grande catch!” he chuckled. ‘‘ Ze French coun catch ze wild Injine. He! he! Ze Lord Mt. Morey t’ink ze count no great warrior, but he, will find ze grande mistake.” ‘What do you mean, sir?” Humming Bird demanded, sternly. ‘‘ Be kind enough to lower your weapon and let me pass.” ‘*Oh, no,” Rablee said, with another villainous smile, ‘‘ Ze Lord Mt. Morey say ze French are eowards—-say ze French ’fraid of ze American Injine. I make ze grande catch of ze Injine, and orey zat ze Frenchman -re- semblee not ze coward,” .“ You are a fool!” Humming Bird said, indig- nantly. ‘‘Iam not an Indian, and you are a ‘cowardly syuaw to molest a defenseless girl, even were I an Indian!” ** Yes, Alphonse Rablee, and if you don’t lower Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo, your aim and let her pass, JU! put a bullet in your head on my own accord!” Rablee started as though he had been shot in reality, and wheeled about to find himself con- fronted by Lady Lily, who had stolen into the timber unawares. i “Diablo! Ze Lady Lily here?” he gasped, hr ec and not knowing how to excuse him- se ““Yes, ze Lady Lily here!” the young woman retorted, contemptuously. ‘‘ You are a pretty PUPPY, now, aren’t you, Gus de Rablee?” “ Ze puppy! Mon Dieu! ze insult, ma’m’selle— just t?ink of ze insult: Ze lucky ving you not zu man, or I challenge you to fight ze duel.” “Bah! you are a coward and sneak, so there!’’ Lady Lily retorted, ‘‘ Young lady, you can go on. I wish to talk to his honor, ze grande count!” ; With a_ thankful glance, Humming Bird saab, and then sped on to the depths of the. mo ‘And now, sir, what have you to say for yourself?” her ladyship demanded, turning im- periously upon her companion tourist. “Nothing!” Rablee replied. ‘Ze Injine roams in ze forest, an’ I hunt ze savage and make ze grande catch, and win ze wager of ze soi-lord,” “‘ Yes, [ understand. You'd probably have harmed the inoffensive thing had I not oppor- tunely arrived. You Frenchmen are cowards and ruffians, count!” “Not so; ze La iy Lily is mistaken.” “Don’t contradict me—I know better,” she answered, with temper. ‘‘I came over here to tell you they are packing up at the camp, pre. paratory to moving over to a place called Papa- naugh’s Ranch. In the mean time, while we are here alone, Alphon e de Rablee, I want te come to an understanding with you.” Rablee’s eyes sparkled.. “ Anything to accommodate ze lovely Lady Lily!” he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘‘ pray for ze grande occasion when I may spill ze act blood in zese veins in behalf of ze Lady ily. “Bah! your would-be gallantry is disgusting, Do you know I'd rather have a grizzly bear me me than you, sir?” Rablee’s countenance fell, and his gray eyes grew hard in their expression. “Ze Lady Lily insult ze count twice!” he growled. ’ “Tf you call it insult, you'll get insulted all your life. One thing I want to ask you—ain J- or am I not the real child of Revere and the rightful claimant to this fortune? You can tell me, and thus relieve me of the doybts that of late years have assailed me, like a phantom,” “Of course, you are ze original,” Rablee an- swered promptly. ‘‘ What ze world ever make you tink ze different from zat?” **T don’t know. I could never make it seem. so. I have ever been in fear that [ would turn out to be some picked-up waif, to fill the proud ition I occupy.” Pen Ze Lady Lily need not fear ze least. Her rights promise to be established as ze rightful he of ze baronet, Sir Ralph Revere, ina short — me. Si +; . 4

Page 17

Wild Prank, the Buckskin Bravo. 15 —, “God grant that!” the beautiful girl said, gazing at the ground. “If I should turn out not to be, I would kill myself. Alphonse do Rablee, why is it you always form one of our party, and pay your attentions to me? Answer me!—is it not because there is an understanding between Mt. Morey and yourself, that I am to be your wife, when I come into possession of this fortune!” “Ze Lady Lily has expressed ze exact terms of ze understanding,” Rablee confessed, with an exultant smile, ‘‘ Ze French count an’ ze Eng- lish lady make ze grande match, and set ze Parisian circles on ze gut vive !” ‘It has occurred to me such might be the acheme!” the young woman said, biting her lips, and her face paling, ‘‘ But hear me, now, sir, swear that fortune or no fortune, I will never wed you—no, a thousand times no!” : “We will see!” Rablee said, drawing a dirk. **-You shall swear you vill marry me, now, or you nevar go back to ze camp, alive, Zat is sworn to,” CHAPTER XII. RABLEE TAKES A MUD BATH. ‘ MonstER!” Lily cried, stepping back, her face growing déathly pale. ‘You surely aoe not attempt such a ghastly crime as mur- er “ Ze love of mankind will ofttimes drive zat man to d rate deeds,” Rablee returned, fiercely. ‘‘ You say zere is no love in your heart for me.” ‘No! no! I do rot love nor do I even respect you!” Lady Lily answered, courageously. “Who else is it you love?” the Frenchman demanded, savagely. ‘‘ Show him to me—mon Dieu, I cut his heart out!” “Bah! the man I love would not deign to fight so Solange dak and cowardly acur as you. eis aman as brave and fearless as all these rairies know.” i “Ze devil! You do not mean ze insolent scout?” “Ay! just that very insolent scout. He is my ideal of brave and noble manhood. To be sure, I do not suppose that I love him, for our acquaintance has been no acquaintance at all. But I took a real liking to him—indeed I did,” “Then ze infatuation shall end now,” he cried fiercely, raising the knife. ‘‘Swear nevare to tink of ze scout again, and zat you will marry me, or I will plunge ze dagger into your heart, now and here. at will settle ze little affair of love, without ze trouble of a duel with ze, scout.” . ‘No! I would die a hundred times before I would swear anything of the kind!” Lady Lily responded. ‘Strike me if you dare, you cow- ardly wretch!” ‘Ho! ho! you shall see!” Rablee yelled, rush- ing wpon her with uplifted knife like an infuri- ated animal. : But the blow he undoubtedly would have given remained unstruck, for the knife was suddenly torn from his grasp, and he was dealt a blow be- side the head that sent him tumbling to the ground headforemost. When he scrambled to his feet, he had the chagrin of seeing the dashing Buckskin Bravo, Wild Frank, by Lady Lily’s side, with his arms folded across his breast. ‘“* Diablo !” he hissed, his countenance flaming with rage. ‘‘ Ze scout!” ‘“‘Yes, the scout!” Frank answ sternly. ‘so now, if you're itching for a le, ’m on hand to accommodate,” : ‘Curses on you!” the Frenchman gritted, rub- bing his bruised ankle. ‘I have you arrested for ze ’sault and ze battery.” ‘*Oh! you contemptible cur,” Lady Lily cried. ‘Oh, you big coward. ey don’t you fight it out with a man, if you dare ‘* Mon Dieu! Ze French nobleman vill nevare soil his hands on ze rude American. I will re- turn to ze camp and have ze scout arrested for assault and ze battery.” “Oh! no, don’t be in a hurry!” and Wild Frank leveled a revolver at the chemist’s head. “Tf you try to sneak off without apologizing to this estimable lady for pou ungentilemanly con- duct, I will have to make a hole in your head to Teepe Daly Lily T araioae teks 'o ze Lady apologize humbly—to ze scout [ make none > Paes < ‘*Oh! you won't, eh? Well, well. We shall have to sce to that. Throw down your arms, and I will box your ears.” ‘““Ze verry zing, sar! I have ze grande pleas- ure of making ze scout’s head ache.” The alacrity with which the count threw down his knife and gun seemed to indicate that he had had experience in the manly art of self- defense. os “ Oh! you will get hurt,” Lady Lily protested, laying a hand upon Frank’s arm, anxiety de- picted upon her fair, poy face. “Ha! ha! no—not by the French delegate,” the Buckskin Bravo replied, with a smile, ‘ it you watch sharp, you'll see his excellency stick- ing head-first in yonder bog.” lose to where they were standing was a miry pool, more commonly known on the prairies as a ‘buffalo wallow,” the stagnant condition of which made it anything but a de- sirable bathing-place, for it was about an equal mixture of water and mud. Springing quickly forward, Wild Frank seized the count in his arms, and without much Bis parent effort pitched him into the pool, head: rst, his heels brandishing wildly in the air. “There! I reckon he'll need to polish up a little before he assaults you again, lady,” the scout announced dryly. ‘‘Have you a horse handy?” ; ‘« At the edge of the grove, sir.” ‘ ‘“‘Then allow me the honor of escorting you to it.” And she accepted his arm and they walked out of the motte. “T can never thank you too much for your brave interference,” Lady Lily declared, giving him her little gloved hand, after he had fa - lantly assisted her to. mount her snow-whi Pony. “ j=") ‘*No thanks required, ma’am,” the scout replied, raising the hand to his li sone words I.by chance overheard more than repaid me for any trouble I may ever be put to in your behalf.” 3 Lady Lily’s cheeks grew scarlet. “You must pardon me,” and she averted her é a

Page 18

> ié6 face. **You know we often say things we hadn’t ought to, just to spite a disagreeable per- son, “Oh! yes, I see. I shouldn't for a moment have thought a lady like you could admire a rough burr like me!” he said, his face slightly pained in expression. ‘Yes, you should, too,” she cried, impulsive- Jy, looking full in his face, with her lustrous eyes, ‘*I do admire you as a true and brave son of the prairies, and em not ashamed to own it, and, what is more, I shall esteem it an honor to have your friendship.” “Thanks, my lady. The friendship was yours long ago, rough and unpolished, but yet true. If ever you are in need of a strong arm of assistance, remember Wild Frank is the one who carries it for you, when he is around. You had best go now, for I hear ze French cuss a-snorting and blowing like a porpoise, back in the woods, and in his rage he may accidentally shoot you.” “But, he will harm you, also!” ‘Never fear of that. I will see that he don’t touch me. I overheard you say your camp was moving to Papanaugh’s?” “Yes. Something has suddenly changed Mt, Morey’s mind, and he has resolved to stay on the prairies a part, or maybe all of the winter, and therefore he will move to the settlement.” “Tt is wise. AsI told you the last evening, ere to-morrow dawns this prairie will be envel- oped in what we term a blizzard.” ss gh! I dread storms. Will Isee you again, soon?" **Tn all probability, yes. Aw revoir !” And the Buckskin Bravo raised his broad- rimmed hat, gallantly, as she touched up her horse and galloped | les away, the mean- while kissing her finger-tips to him, with a SG smile. - Wild Frank then stepped into a clump of _. bushes, and waited.until the French nobleman covered entirely with mud and slime emerged from the motte, and struck off toward camp, swearing deadly vengeance against the author of his troubles. He was a sorry-looking being, dripping and 1 rom the ol, his face as black and streaked with mud as _ it-well could be. _ roar, as he struck outacross the ‘Revenge! revenge! ze grande diabolical re- yvenze on ze scout,” Wild Frank heard him rairie. When he had gone from sight down beyond a ~ wave in the dun expanse, the scout shouldered his rifle and strode away to the northwest at a rapid gait. Aad, unknown to him, a pair of eyes watched him until he was out of sight—the jealous eyes of the Humming Bird, who had seen their parting, with a flushed face, and _ rapidly-beating heart. ‘* They love each other!” was all she said, but _ said it bitterly. CHAPTER XIII. _ | THE GRAVE AND ITS CONTENTS. Z tage the moon arose early, for it was ‘near The sky of moving was overcast with a faint filmy fleece clouds, which eaused the radiance of Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. the great luminary to shed a ghastly light apon the prairies. The wind was rising and blowing keenly, and the indications all seemed to be that the pre-- dicted storm was not far off. The moon had cleared the horizon about an hour when Wild Frank dashed down across from the north, and drew rein at the little prairie cemetery, With its single grave, where he had stopped the previous night. he little headstone gleamed startlingly in the spectral moonshine, and the very, surroundings seemed grim and uncanny. “Tt isn’t exactly such a night as grave rob- bers are supposed to work,” Wild Frank mut- tered, huskily, as he dismounted and took a searching look around, “ but it will have to an- swer my pw . By Jove! it isn’t a job I fancy, at all, either; but something tells me that it will be to my advantage to know the con- tents of the box I buried here four years ago.” He took a spade and pick from his saddle- bags, and commenced to open the little mound, e worked rapidly, until the sweat started upon his brow. Once he stopped and listened, but resumed his vork, a minute later, with a scowl. He hac thrown out but a few more shovelfuls of dirt, however, when he paused again, and this time detected the scarcely audible sound of approach- ing Ula ‘T thought my ears were reliable as ever,” he muttered, stepping to the side of his mustang, and seizing his trusty rifle. ‘‘Some one is ap. proaching!” He swept the prairie in all directions with his keen glance, but could see no ning within the range of his vision except the dun-hued prairie- Tass. i Dll send a tester, anyhow,” he said, listening again. “It may scare’em off, It wouldn’t be exactly to my liking to have an intruder step in, just now.” His acute sense of hearing told him pretty nearly where the prowler was, coming along in the course with the stiff breeze, and, raising his_ rifle, he chanced a shot in that direction, his rifle speaking savagely. # i¥ The report was followed by a wild, strange . yell—then all was still. “Thet warn’t no Injun squeak, nor a death- yell, either, I allow,” he said, standing quietly, awaiting developments, - “Sounded like as if it meant have been the Angel Gabriel, who blowed his trumpet when my little hornet stung him. Hope it didn’t do him much damage, whoever it was.” Nothing further was heard, and he naturally concluded that he had scared off the game. a Seizing his shovel, he a set to work, and Pea had the grave opened and came +o a rough x. It was pretty well rotted, and he had no diffi- ae in tearing off the lid. ithin, fully revealed in the ghostly moon- — hair light lay a human skeleton, the wealth of yet clinging to the grinning skull pronouncing it tae aie ee a bebe ; oe ; e face of the scout grew paine expres- sion as ~ ghastly sight met his gaze, and tara. d his eyes. sa Fz: As 5

Page 19

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. ‘Poor Myrtle!” broke from his lips in a husky whisper. ‘God grant you a place beside His throne, for no purer angel ever existed upon this earth,” He then took a little ebony box from beside the skeleton, slipped it into his hunting-sack, and replaced the rude coffin-lid, shutting out the view of the dead. Springing from the grave, he gazed around, sharply. g No one was in sight; so seizing the shovel, he proceeded to fill the grave, and restore things to their former condition. When he had finished, he knelt in silence be- aide the mound, with bowed head, and thus re- mained several minutes, until something start- Jed him. It was but a flake of snow, fallen upon his hand. But to him itsmessage was of the utmost significance and he leaped quickly to his feet and into the saddle, Away up in the moonlit northwest a dense gray line was visible which was approaching with tremendous velocity. It was the blizzard. “Now, then, my boy,” Wild Frank said, giv- ing the rein to his impatient mustang, ‘‘ scoot the best you know how. It’s a reg’lar snorter like we had ten years ago, and with us it’s Re fonauetee or—death.” nd as if seeming to fully understand the words, the mustang leaped away over the rairie at the top of his s , and his rider Pugced low upon his neck to facilitate his progress. But ’twas no use. Tn less than five minutes the whole surround- in; Cony, was enveloped in the vortex of the blizzard, The blizzard struck Papanaugh’s Ranch soon after the Buckskin Bravo had discovered it, and nook the stanch cabin until it trembled throughout. More of a crowd than usual was congregated within the Ranch to-night, for the warning of the approaching storm had driven in such trap- pers, hunters and herders as had no regular abode, besides some transients from mountain and prairie, among whom was the male portion of the Mt. Morey party, the ladies having been quartered in a vacant cabin close by. The two Harris brothers, Dr. Deering, and the mountain outlaw terror. Wyoming Bill, were seated at a table ina further corner of the room, drinking and playing cards, The outlaw chief was disguised in a sandy wig and full beard, and though there were a score or more in the room who were his deadly enemies, they did not suspect his presence. The Humming Bird was assisting her brother behind the bar, and looked prettier than ever, it seemed in the lamp-light—at least so thought Bob Harris, whose baleful eyes were ever fixed upon her, : ‘““Yas, et’s a reg’lar old-fashioned blizzard, b’yees, an’ she’s goin’ ter make things hum a couple of days at least!” remarked old Sara, one of the veteran _Indian-fighters and tra sof Wyoming and New Mexico—a gra hatred, rough-looking old codger who cou 3 ; ed River- and thought I’d be on deck to see if I couldn’ i rae 1? show more scars than any man in the room. “ An’ et’s aright comfortable thing not vo be out on the prairies ter-night, ef a feller wants ter survive, tho’ here’s what did stan’ et out in a consarned bli , ten year ago, for three mor- tal days, and then come out hunk, ‘Spec ther pards is all heer ter-night.” ; The remark set the inmates of the Ranch to looking around them to see if any of their ac- quaintances were missing. One man is missing, an’ ten to one et'll be his last blizzard!” Jim Harris said, in a low tone to his companions. “Who?? Wyoming Bill asked—‘t not our man?” ; Sh! the rest have dis- “Yes, Wild Frank. covered his absence ” “Hello! Wild Frank Waddle isn’t here!” Laughing Len cried. ‘‘ He left camp this morn- ing and said he’d be here to-night.” ; ‘He’s not here,” John Papanaugh added who always kept an eye on those who came and went. ‘‘ He hasn’t been here to-day.” “Then he’s a gone goose!” Red River Sam averred. ‘Hear it howl outside! No human kin live ter hunt his way out o’ this storm.” “Wild Frank gone!” Humming Bird cried, excitedly. ‘‘Then I shall go hunt him!” “No ye won't, nuther |” scowling, ‘Ye ain’t thet skunk—not while I’m nyar.” 5 “Nor is thar any need of it!” a voice cried, as the door swung open, ‘for Wild Frank’s on hand, in time for the picnic!” CHAPTER XIV. A RUSE THAT DIDN'T WORK, Iv was in truth the Buckskin Bravo who strode into the Ranch, covered with snow until he looked like a snow-man. A cheering shout arose from the lips of his sev- eral particular friends and acquaintances, and eae) Bird ran forward and put both her hands in his, joyfully, much to the chagrin and rage of Bob Harris. : “T am so glad you have come back, Wild Frank,” she said, earnestly. Then she quickly added, inan undertone; ‘Sh! watch out! I fear there is mischief brewing.” : “Thanks, Birdie,” he said, pressing her hand, and then releasing it. ‘I will bear it in mind,’ He had to e hands with others whom he knew, for all were glad to see him. “Ves, I came pretty near having to make a river trip,” he confessed, in answer to many questions. ‘‘ In fact, I couldn’t have found my bir ee for the sagacity of my mustang. ‘ luck,” Red River Sam said, shaking bands. ‘ob Harris demurred, — ‘oin’ ter lose yer life fer — aal, Pll jine hands wi’ ye on yer good’ — ‘‘Heer’s wot’s been thar, an’ I know how all-fired curious a feller feels when he runs afoul o’a blizzard, an’ don’t kno’ whether he’s wanderin? inter Palestine or Purgatory. So you’re goin’ — ter celebrate the event 0’ yer escape by coloniz- _ in’ a reg’lar old picnic, eh?” & " going to be a sort of rumpus down here to-night, + work a, fist in.” nt not exactly, pard. Iheard there was j £ Ps somehow

Page 20

; _ Di 18 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. “Bully fer you, Franklin’, old alligator, an’ ef ou want backin’, call on Red River Sam, sir— he old war-hoss of Wyoming.” “YT guess he wouldn’t lack backing,” Laughing Len replied, ‘‘ bein’s the majority knows whar Wild Frank lives when he’stohum. So if thar’s enny one got any bones to pick, now’s the time to start the music.” Not a word was said by the four outlaws in the corner, but they went on playing as if they had not heard the broad hint slung at them. They had heard the conversation, however, and knew it meant business. “*T reckon we shall hey to postpone the plan we've been makin’ calculations on,” Wyoming Bill said, in an undertone. ‘‘Thar appears to be a fearful big mice smelt somewhar, here- abouts, an’ I reckon you’re ther ones what’s sus- pected. I’m so well disguised, that I’m all right.” “Well! what’s to be done? Are we going to lev the chance slip?” ‘No, not exactly. Ill tell youmy plan. We can’t git Wild Frank, now—that’s certain, for he’s too many parva here, to-night. But, if we work it right, {reckon we kin snatch the gal, and make off with her,” “¢ Who in thunder kin reach the caye to-night, in this howlin’ blizzard?” Bob Harris growled, not fancying the prospect as he listened to the mournful shrieks of the wind around the cabin. “ But one man in fifty could lead the ‘way to the mountains, and we have that man!” “ Who is he?” **Scar-Face, the renegade.” “But where is he?” “Outside with a score of the braves, crouch- ing beside the cabins,” “Then it’s a devilish tack,” Deering declared, “By no means,” Wyoming Bill protested. “Thar’s too many fightin’-men present. My plan is this: You three separate, watch your chance, and slip from the Ranch, leaving me alone. I'll iook out fer myself. As soon as ye can, find Sear-Face, and tell him to get ready for a start. Thon you make for the cabin whar the tourists hov put up, and capture the gal for moe, Then ride for the mountains as fast as ye ean. Lot yer horses all be lassoed together, with the red-skin in the lead, an’ he'll take ye thr’w’ all hunkie. When ye get to headquarters shet the gal up in the call till I come.” “But what’s to become o’ you?” Deering de- anded. “Oh! V'll hang around heer a bit longer, an’ catch the Humming Bird, and maybe raise the hair of Wild Frank. Ill also try and bleed the cussed Britisher of some of his superfluous cash before I slope for camp.” The plan seemed to strike the three outlaws agreeably, and they signified their acquiescence good time for an at- m _ with nods of approval. Jim Harris presently arose and sauntered about the room, took a drink at the bar, and _ watching a proper chance when no one was looking, slipped from the Ranch into the wild { without. Bob Harris and Deering played another game for stakes with the disguised chief, at the con- clusion of which the named threw down | enyhow!” the cards with a vindictive oath, rose from the table and adjourned to the bar, ‘* Got fleeced, eh?” Red River Sam questioned, with a chuckle, “Cuss my boots, yes—lost every cent,” the ruffian growled, pouring out a brimming lass of whisky. ‘* Thet old cuss sez he hails frum ees but he plays like a cussed city This shot was intended by the outlaw to throw suspicion from Wyoming Bill, and was in a measure successful. After filling his pipe Bob also departed, but not until he had hissed in the ear of Humming Bird, who stood near the door: “Oh! my proud squaw, ee shall be mine yet . afore ye die. Remember, I’ve sworn to it, and ye may as well accept the inevitable.” “Bah! Humming Bird would die before she would marry you!” was the aie reply. “Thet/ll_ all do to talk,” he hissed. ‘You'll find the difference when I get you in my wer. Then he left the Ranch. No particular notice was taken of his or Jim’s departure, as the three pards usually bunked in an old cabin, a few rods from the Ranch. Deering soon followed, and then the disguised outlaw arose from the table with a swagger and pocketed a large roll of bills. “Tm ther boss poker-player right up frum California!” he shouted, going up to the bar. “YT cleaned out them three cayotes in ther twinkling uv a lamb’s tail, an’ ther dust o’ ther game’s made me thirsty. Will some o’ you fellers step up an’ lubricate yer machinery wi’ prime old red-eye?” It was an apparently honest invite, but not a man moved to accept. ‘“*T opine, as a rule, we nevyer drink wi’ stran- gers, pard, till we know ther name an’ pollese o’ ther cuss we moisten with,” Red River Sam remarked, in behalf of those present. “Oh, ye want my measure, do ye?” the outlaw demanded, his eyes emitting a deadly sparkle. “‘ Waal, ef you’ll write down ter Copper Flats, California, fer a description uv a feller named Jack Turkey, ye’ll get a fortygraff o’ jest sech a feller as I am, an’ ye’ll Parn his igree is - famous fer playin’ poker, drinkin’ red-eye, an’ trappin’ cinnamon b’ar.” : ‘**Yas, I’ve hearn o’ this Jack Turkey afore,” Sam retorted, coolly, ‘* but I’ll bet hoss-loads o’ nuggets you ain’t him.” ; ‘What! do you mean to dispute my word?” “No! but I mean ter prove ye a liar,” the veteran scout rejoined. ‘‘ Ef you’re Jack Tur- key, ye kin put up a cent ag’in’ yonder cabin- wall, an’ shoot it with a revolver first pop. Thet’s ther kind of a kangaroo Jack Tur< key is!” The outlaw knew he was caught in a lie, and was silent for a moment, inwardly boiling with rage, ay can’t do et, nor any livin’ cuss on earth,” he growled. “I’m Jack Turkey, an’ I’m dry. Bartender, set out yer vrime old toe-tingler.” “Oh, jest hold on,” Red River Sam inter- old posed, rneeringly. ‘‘Sence ye airea 1 we'd really kinder like to know who ona eet x = +s ra uy

Page 21

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. **T can answer that question I think, as . Wild Frank said, stepping forward. ‘ This man is Wyoming Bill, in disguise, and is my prisoner!” CHAPTER XV, 4& DOUBLY BASE DEED. Tx words of the Buckskin Bravo rung out clear and distinet, and as hespoke he sprung for- ward and shoved a cocked revolver fairly against the outlaw’s face. “There! stand!” he continued, sternly. “Throw up your hands, or I'll blow a hole in your head,” gomiog. Bill obeyed, with a baffled oath, “You lie! Iam not the man you say,” he ex- ostulated. ‘‘ Let me alone, or you shall smart or this indignity!” ‘*Oh! I shall, eh?” Wild Frank replied, calm- ly. ‘Well, I don’t just happen to agree with you, William. You've been promising me various kinds of death and destruction for the last three years, butit never came. So I con- cluded to turn the tables, just to see how it would “*T insist that it is all a terrible mistake!” the chief again protested. “Gentlemen, I again ap- peal to you. “ But appeal in vain,” Laughing Len supple- mented, producing a piece of lariat with which to bind his hands. ‘* You were never known to listen to the appeals of men, women, and little children, whom you and your red gang of cut- throats have slaughtered, and you needn’t ex- pect any mercy, now.” He was securely bound by Len and Hagle Eye, while Wild Frank held him pinned by the re- volver. When he was fixed up beyond a possi- bility of his getting away, and disarmed, Wild Frank put up his revolver. ‘* We'll see, now, Bill, whether you are not our man. Ah! yes, you look quite familiar. Ha! iy a Frank tore off the sandy wig and false A. swarthy, villainous-faced fellow stood re- vealed, with black hair, mustache and goatee— a man the ugly expression of whose countenance was a sufficient mirror of his evil nature. ‘‘ Curses on you!” he breathed, as he stood thus unmasked. ‘‘ You’ve won, this time, but your victory will be short-lived, you'll find!” “ Not so short-lived as you'll be, when I send en over to the fort, with my compliments,” ild Frank assured, triumphantly. ‘‘ Your little Beorceal for me to join you,I had to de- cline, Bill, as I wanted you rather more than you wanted me. Is there any more of your iy te to-night?” ‘‘Were there a hundred, you’d not be apt to find it out by me,” the outlaw assured, with a sneer. “Oh! I presume not. We'll take good care of you, pet!” the scout said, with sarcasm. , John Papanaugh had had a strong room built within the Ranch, purposely for the accommoda- tion of prisoners, when, as was a frequent oc- currence, the U. S. Marshal stop’ over night at the Ranch, en route for the fort with pris- oners. The cell was built of double thickness of logs, and provided with an iron grated door. to “rey sca 18 which was attached an intricate lock, to which “ea one possessed a key except John Papanaugh imself, Into this place Wyoming Bill was turned, and the door locked on him, until the blizzard should subside, when it was Laughing Len and Eagle Eye’s job to escort him to the nearest military post, and turn him over into the hands of the marshal. ° Loud was the rejoicing at the Ranch the re- mainder of that stormy night, over the capture of the notorious outlaw and ruffian, whose ter- rible deeds for three years and over, had thrown the surrounding country into a state of dread and fear. Wild Frank, of course, was the lion of the occasion as bee ee captor, and was lauded with praise and thanked generally for his dar- ing deed—for it was a deed of daring to face a human tiger of Wyoming Bill’s stamp, whose hand was stained with the blood of: scores of men. No thought of further danger seemed to dwell with the rejoicing party until out in the wild storm of the night a piercing scream rung out, and Lord Mt. Morey staggered from the bar where he was standing, with a face as white as death. ‘Villian! my God, some harm is come to my ward!” he cried. Every man leaped toward the door, and out into the night, weapons in hand, Wild Frank leading off, with a strange, ven eful rere The cabin where the two es of the tourist party had been duet ered was not a dozen yards rom the Ranch, and toward it Wild Frank darted through the furious storm accompanied by a dozen of the men. In almost less time than it takes to relate it, the cabin was reached and entered, and there, lying apop the floor, they found Lady Mt. Mo- pless and with a knife driven through ber heart—dead! y Lillian was gone! “Great God! this is fearful!” Wild Frank cried. ‘Boys, look to the woman. I’m off after the girl.” “Stop! it is madness to think of entering the blizzard!” Laughing Len cried. ‘Mad or no mad, I’m going to rescue the young lady!” was the fierce reply. “Scar- ‘ace and his infernal gang has done this work, and my mustang will mighty quick pick their trail. If I come back with the girl, all mght. If I don’t, ye kin look for me in Wyoming Bill's stronghold!” 3 And as he finished speaking, the ae scout leaped forth once more into the howling blizzard, rifle in hand. Nothing could he see in the blinding vortex of frozen feathery sleet, but he knew the loca- tion of the corral from the cabin, and had little difficulty in reaching it. A shrill whistle brought his faithful mustang to his side, and he was upon his back in a jiffy, and dashing off to the northwest without saddle or bridle, and with his hat under his hunting~ pee his long hair flashing wildly back in the TeeZe. fe A very hurricane was blowing, and the stin ing pane frozen rain cut his face until

Page 22

va Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. caused him intense pain, but he never faltered or ceased to urge his faithful animal on, He knew that the outlaw stronghold was somewhere in the mountains, and he knew they would lay their course in that direction. He had accordingly aimed in a like course on starting from the Ranch, Well he knew his trusty mustang would not vary an iota from the way he was headed, until puided different, and he therefore never turned his head, but allowed him to keep straight on, feeling confident that he must in a short while overtake the fugitives. ~ $tygian darkness reigned supreme in addition Nea ae storm, making it utterly impossible to see ahead, Fully an hour the scout kept desperately on, hopes of overtaking the savages strong in his breast; but the further he went the more furi- ous raged the storm, but still no signs of suc- cess. As a last resort he finally stopped, and dis- mounting, felt upon the snow with his hand, moving for some distance right and left. . “Pll either find their trail,” he muttered, ‘ or lose myself in the blizzard, and perish.” Ten minutes of search elapsed—then he uttered a cry. ; He had found where many horses? feet had trodden in the snow, but recently. “Smell, Startle!” he cried, shoving his saga- cious mustang’s nose into the snow. “‘ Now, old boy, follow—or die!” { e remounted, and with his nose close to the ound the mustang leaped away like a blood- ound on the trail. CHAPTER XVI. A DARING FRAT, THE surprise upon the two ladies, and the ca; ture of Lady Lily had been sudden and quic! and the poor girl found herself bound han and foot and in the hands of Jim Harris, almost be- fore she had time to know what was occurring. “While Scar-Face was securing the scalp of Lady Mt. Morey, Harris bore Lady Lily from the cabin and handed her to his brother Bob, who was upon horseback near the door, as were also Deering and a score of horribly painted savages, - The whole tragedy did not consume five mo- ments, ere the party were dashing away. Lady Lily managed to scream, just as they were passing the Ranch, but after that Bob Harris held his rough hand closely over her mouth, until they had left the settlement far behind. ‘Now, then, my beauty, you can yell if ye want to,” he said, taking away his hand, with a brutal laugh. “I reckon tho’ the storm kin ~ seream nigh onto a notch higher than bh can.” In utter horror, poor Lady Lily could not ut- ter a sound, but trembled in fear and affright. The cavalcade moved over the prairie abreast, the eines being lariated together through the bits—all except Scar-Face’s, who led the wa. * ino chanced that Bob Harris was the outer Horseman on the left hand, Deering being next, and then the red-skins, Jim Harris hw the Thus they dashed on, at a rapid gallop, the renegade chief keeping only a few yards in ad- vance, and ‘‘feeliag” the way. Life-long ac- quaintance with the prairie between Papa- naugh’s and the mountains put it in his power, if necessary, to accomplish the whole distance with his eyes shut, “ What are you going todo with me?” Lady Lily finall me to ask of her ruffianly cap- ot ap y am I thus taken away from my riends : “Waal, as this ain’t a night fer answerin’ rid- dles, I don’t know,” Bob Harris replied. ‘I spect, however, Bill calkerlates ter make a wife . outen you when he gits hum!” ‘Bill? Who is he, pray?” ‘Why, Wyoming Bill, to be sure! <Ain’t ye never heerd of him? Ef ye ain’t, it’s a wonder, es he's ther worst outlaw we’ve goton the bor- er. ‘Heaven help me, then! Surely you are not going to place me in the power of such a wretch?” _ “Waal, yes, I reckon them’s the orders—that is, ef the captain turns up at headquarters.” “ Are you outlaws?” ““We have that honor,” Bob returned, dryly; then he and Deering laughed loudly, _On, on, dashed the strange cavalcade of storm riders, accomplishing mile after mile of the dis- tance between the settlement and the hills. Lady Lily grew very cold, as the merciless storm beat against her, but stood it bravely, rather than to ask for a share of her rough cap- tor’s blanket. J “Treckon ther captain cut his own windpipe, to-night,” Deering said, as. they rode along. “Why so?” Bob Harris demanded, ‘Because, he'll like as not git inter a row at the Ranch. I shouldn’t wonder, when I come to think of it, ef Wild Frank ’spicioned him, the way he spoke about a picnic, and ef they were to ever find him out, Bill’d hev a slim chance, I tell you.” : ‘““Pshaw! ten to one you'll see him along with us ere we get to the hills.” ‘*Mebbe—mebbe not,” the doctor rejoined, ** Anyhow, ef he don’t come back, ye can set me down as capt’in.” ““Tt'll likely take more’n one~ to decide that question. Ef Bill turns up his toes, heer’s what turns Mormon, an’ marries this gal, an’ the Humming Bird, too.” : “No women on my plate, ef ye please,” Deer- ing answered sareastically, ‘‘I’d ruther hev a mule-load o’ sage-bushes tied to my back,” ‘“Thar’s whar we can’t agree!” was Bob’s re» joinder, “T pray to God that the noble scout, Wild Frank, may come to my rescue,” Lady Lily breathed, shuddering as she contemplated her fate if not taken from the power of these moun- tain outlaws. “ Waal, ye needn’t Harris chuckled, ‘‘ fer Frank don’t come neat around the hills arter us, fearin’ hel git sho “T don’t believe be is capable of fear—he isso brave and dauntiess,” oxy Won't never to you hope in thet directio no Wild i “Waal, ye jest chaw on et, my gal—his brav- z "t beany good.”

Page 23

. along. Woy Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 21 use in conver- shrieked more Then there was another long sation, during -which the win horribly and the biting storm tore over the prai- rie with redoubled fury. “Hark!” eee suddenly cried. ‘‘I thought [heard a yell. ‘* Pll bet a copper the capt?in is after us!” “Yas, probably,” Harris grunted. “TI al- fowed herd find it too warm at the Ranch for comfort.” A horse’s hoof-strokes distinguishable from those of the cavalcade, were plainly heard, and soon after a horseman dashed along a few yards to the left of Bob Harris. Who he was the ruf- fian could not have told, however, had he been only a few feet from his face, owing to the den- sity of the whirling flakes. “Helo! is it you, Bill?’ Deering howled through his*hands above the shriek of the storm, “ Blazes, yes!” was the hoarse, gruff reply, as the horseman drew nearer, ‘‘Hey ye got the gal all safe?” ‘Yes; heer she is!) Whar’s Humming Bird?” Bob Harris bellowed. “At Papanaugh’s. I barely got out o’ the cussed place with my life, Wild Frank opened on me, an’ I knifed him and skipped. Let me hev the gal. I’ve got a blanket for her.” “Tm cussed glad ye want her,” Bob Harris cried, ‘‘ for she’s heavy.” Then, in the midst of the blinding flurry, the new-comer galloped alongside and took Lady Lily in his arms, and at the same time Bob Har- cis received a blow alongside the head that caused him to grow dizzy. “Thunder and lightning! what d’ye mean by hitting me?” he roared. There was no answer. Lady Lily’s new captor had wheeled his horse abruptly and disappeared like a flash over the back trail. ‘ What’s the rip?” Deering demanded, as Har- tis swore frightfully. “ Matter?” the ruffian roared. ‘‘ Why, blast it, the capt’?in snatched the gal, punched me be- side the head and’s gone!” ‘“Puries! It wasn’t the captain! He’d never do that. We've been ove en by Wild Frank and robbed of our prize!” Deering yelled. Tt was even so! The Buckskin Bravo had hunted down the outlaws, rode up to them, and cunningly obta ned possession of the girl, and, even as the outlaw came to ahalt to talk, he was skimming away through the storm, over the back trail, his faithful mustang leaping along as if he knew and felt the triumph of the victory, Lady Lily could not see the face of her new captor, so furious was ihe storm, but she felt that she could not have fallen into worse hands than she had been rescued from. ‘““Who are you, sir?” she asked, as they dashed “Surely you are not the terrible outlaw chief?” : ‘ “Oh, no!” the brave scout answered, as he freed her hands and feet, so that she could ride easier, ‘“‘f£ am one who would go through fire and water to win your humblest smiles. Iam Wid Frank.” | ; 1 MO a set ae - border?” Stes ; ‘‘No, perhaps not, but you won her love, any- — “how, pid you iovalien youre cannot de if ther of those charges sin” God be praised, I am safe!” she cried, | and, impetuously throwing her arms about his neck, she kissed him upon his bare, broad fore- head, again and again. “Yes, you are safe, and I am happy,” the Bravo replied, pillowing her head against his breast. ‘‘We are not entirely out of danger Yet, however, for the settlement is far away. - e may not be able to find it, and would perish in the storm.” ‘Tf you perish, I will not survive you,” she said, hugging closer to him. CHAPTER XVII. > THE CONTENTS OF THE BOX. ContTRARY to the scout’s expectation, they had no difficulty in reaching the settlement, owing to the mustang’s sagacity and determination, and were safely in the Ranch before it was morn- ing. No one was up but the Humming Bird, all the rest having retired for the night, but she wel- comed them back with a quiet grace which Frank knew was forced, and prepared them some venison and warm sling to brace them up, after their long and desperate ride, rd Mt. Morey had already retired for the night, in one of the many rooms of the Ranch, to- ge her with Slick and Rablee, leaving their ‘ootman to watch over the remains of her lady- ship in the cabin near oes fter thanking Wild Frank over and over again, warmly, Lady Lily signified her desire to retire for the remainder of the night, and was shown to a alee Spe on the second floor by Humming Bird, who then returned to the bar-room, where the Buckskin Bravo sat with bowed head, gazing thoughtfully into the fire upon the hearth, his hat thrown off and long hair rippling down over his shoulder in a brown wave, *'The scout’s thoughts are—where?” the half- breed girl asked, approaching him and layin her hand upon his head, ‘He thinks not. o: present scenes and things.” ; “ Right,” Frank answered, looking up with a smile. ‘‘ My mind’s eye was then looking into — the past, and then into the far future, in won- derment and mystification, Birdie.” : ‘* Indeed?” the Humming Bird replied, a trifle bitterly, as she drew a stool beside him and be- came seated. ‘In the past pan saw the true, fathful love of a humble half- future you saw a pleasant home and fireside, with little children playing at your feet, but it was not the your life for to-night. There were tears in her eyes as she finished speaking, and, touched at her grief, Wild Frank ut his arm around her waist and drew her to ae imprinting a kiss upon her dusky fore- ead. : “There,. little sister, do not take it so to heart,” he said, softly. is. excited to-night, rae the least little bit jealous. — And why? Did I do more in rescuing Lady Lily, than I have been doing all my lifeon the — at reed girl—in the — half-breed girl whosat by yourside. No! it was the proud, pretty woman you periled “Your imagination is

Page 24

“Perhaps—perhaps not. I will not deny a rowing affection for her, Birdie. No stronger is it, however, than my brotherl7 regard for you. But, as to reciprocation on the part of a great and titled lady like her, I cannot say— cannot dare to hope for it.” “ You would marry her, then, if she were to consent?” “‘T do not know. The ceo of matrimony has been the least of all my life troubles. Per- haps if she were to consent, I should accept of an alliance —with your permission,” Humming Bird was silent, her face buried in her pretty hands, her bosom heaving with emo- tion. 2 2 “Tf you can be happy with her I will not hin- der you,” she said, finally. ‘‘IT am going to re- tire, now. When you get ready, you know where you usually sleep.” She then arose and left theroom. Wild Frank did not retire at once, He poked up the fire, and sat down again in its bright light, and took from his hunting-sack the little ebony box hs had brought from the lone prairie grave. It was a pretty little trinket, about four inch- es square, and the corners were bound with gold brackets, For several minutes the scout seemed undecid- ed whether toopen it or not, but finally he touch- ed a tiny spring, and the lid flew open. The inside was lined with satin, fancifully quilted in colors, and contained a document tied with a silken string and three likenesses. These Wild Frank proceeded. to examine, crit- ically. _ aan was a young man, of some five-and-twen- ty years—a dark, handsome fellow, with a kind- ly expressioned face, dark hair and mustache, and plain but tasty attire. The second was.a woman perhaps a couple of ears younger—a fair, fresh-faced lady with brilliant eyes, sunny hair, and good-natured ex- ression—a woman plainly a fitting companion os the man, with purity and faith engraven in the countenance. bg The third likeness was of a sweet little two- year-old girl, and Wild Frank recognized it with a low cry. It was the picture of the same child he had adopted, on the prairies, years before, of the wounded stranger—of the same loved one whose grave he had visited and opened, early in the evening. * : Laying aside the pictures, he took the paper from the casket, and opened it. It was written in a graceful business hand, and read as follows: ‘ ‘*Mip-pratriz, November —, 186—. “ To whomanever it may concern ;-— “This is to certify that the giver of this box, Sir Ralph Revere, of London, England, has reache this wild, desolate’ prairie, with bis little cbild, Lillian, an outcast and wanderer in a strange land, through the villainy of an unknown enemy, and the alleged faithlessness of a wife, whose picture find here with my own and my child’s, I cannot believe my darling unfaithful, now, but it istoolate. Something seems to tell me that it was all a villainous scheme of Mt, Morey’s to drive me from the country. Something pI 8 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo.” box, where some one may find itafterIamdead. If my child survives me, I pray that whoever finds her will take her and rear her carefully, teaching her to love her God, and grow up to be a good and useful woman, LIalso gig bes the finder will do me an- other last favor. rite to London, put detectives on the track, and find if the wife of Sir Ralph Re- vere was faithful to him. Ifso, restore my little Lil- lian to her mother’s care, and teil her that it was Mt. Morey who drove me away by villainous lies, and it is at Mt. Morey’s door my death can be laid. I will go now, and see if I can catch some fish to appease my hunger, and my poor babe’s. May God grant me success. Ratpx REVERE.” That was all, but it was a wonderful revela- tion—and one that confirmed something of a theory Wild Frank had formed since the tourist pare had camped on the prairies, “The conversation I overheard between the Frenchman and Lady Lily is now explained. She is occupying a false position!” he muttered, passing his hand across his forehead. ‘She is not the rightful Lady Lillian Revere, as she hopes—for the real child of Sir Ralph was laid in her last resting-place by me, five years ago, in the grave yonder where the storm holds riot. Poor Lily! She told Rablee she would kill her- self if she should prove to be some nameless waif. But she must never know the truth, if that is the case.” CHAPTER XVIII. - TIT FOR TAT. Tue blizzard which had struck that section of Wyoming Territory, continued to howl and rage until the middle of the fourth day, when it abated as suddenly as it had begun, and the sun shone once more brightly. A great depth of snow had fallen, however, and if was worth a man’s life to attempt wallowing across the prairies, to any rather point, the fleecy body of lok averaging fully seven teot in depth on the level, Lady Mt. Morey had been temporarily in- terred near the scene of her murder, on the second day, and since then things had without noteworthy incident at the Ranch, for snowed up as they were, the inmates could do little or nothing but eat, drink and sleep, unless it was to play cards. Wild Frank was much in the society of Lady Lily, and it was apparent to more than one ob- server that the intimacy between the two was fast ve gra into an earnest mutual affection, Lord Mt. Morey looked on with savage dis- pleasure, but said nothing, for, while he feared the dauntless Buckskin Bravo, he was also un- der obligations to him for saving Lady Lily, and was shrewd enough not to aggravate an ex- isting enmity with a man whose power seemed as undisputed as Wild Frank’s, “Let them go ahead with their billing and cooing; he said to the count, who looked on with burning jealousy. ‘‘It will get nipped in the bud, directly. Iam daily ies tl to hear from a person who will produce Ralph Revere, and when he identifies the girl, and Walsing- ham pays me over the sum of one hun also seems to tell me that I am not long for this th bins ill eoipl world, I am footsore, weary and hungry. God ousand pounds sterling. we will take the gir have mercy on my little child if 1. fal 2 the | and light out for Australia, That will dissolve way! I will write this and put it in the ebony | the leve-match.” ‘ aoa oF er a ees st sat 5 eae

Page 25

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 23 “ But ze danger, my lord—you do not consider ve danger. Ze consammation may occur at ze shortest notice.” “Bah! no danger, yet. The girl knows her business. If sho gets the heritage and is proven the heiress, then you can rest assured she'll feel too far above the Boe ree to even wi her feet upon him. If she should not be esta lished, she might be fool enough to wed the long- leg; ed vagabond, if I didn’t, as her guardian, forbid the match.” “Tt is certain she will be established? What if Revere s’all no identify?” “ Leave that to me to arrange,” the elder vil- lain said, with a chuckle. ‘“‘ I’ve broken refrac- tory people before this.” . And thus the matter rested. Mt. Morey did not deign to notice the Bravo, and Rablee took good care to keep at a proper distance from him. Wild Frank had encouraged Jack De Herne, a well-to-do oung herder, to pay lover-like at- tentions to the Humming Bird, and the fellow had done so with a will, a result of which was that the pretty half-breed girl grew to be once more her gay, sepey self. No sooner had the blizzard abated, than the sun broke forth with springtime warmth, and the weather moderated until the snow began to rapidly disappear from the prairie. yy the next morning it had so far melted away that the crests of the pei billows once more showed their color of brown, and it was safe to venture forth on horseback. Wyoming Bill was then brought from his cell, and mounted upon a horse, preparatory for his trip to the military post, in charge of Wild Frank’s pard, Laughing Len. Eagle Eye, Red River Sam, and Jack De Herne also went along as escort, for it was two days’ ride to the post, and there might be an attempt on the part of the outlaws to rescue their chief, and save him from the fate that surely awaited him in the hands of the authorities. Soon after their departure, the other tran- sient storm-beund visitors took leave, and the Ranch was left weak-handed. Only John Papanaugh, his sister, Wild Frank, and the tourists were eft at the Ranch, to de- fend it in case of an attack, except the herders of the settlement, whose cabins were scattered about at various distances. Still, there was no particular danger of an attack, unless it should come from the reds associated with Wyoming i Bill’s gang, and it looked probable they would lay low, as it was known that the United States cavalry at the post was ready to take their trail at a moment’s notice. : “Oh! is that so?” Wild Frank replied, with sarcasm, ‘‘ Well, sir, I dare to ume that when my attentions become unbearable, the young lady will kindly inform me of the fact.” ‘* But she is very sensitive about wounding one’s feelings, or she would have long dis- ~ missed you!” his lordship protested, angrily “Well, when [I get to see by any hint that my presence is objectionable, I will quit,” the scout replied,. coolly. ‘‘I have taken a greet interest in her, sir, and I shall take care hat your villainous game never brings her to rm harm, Be y villainous game, sir? What do you mean?” and up came the baronet’s formidable cane, threateningly. ““Oh! you can put down your stick,” Frank returned, with provoking calmness. ‘‘ You are probably aware Iam not easily scared, sir—a long life in the backwoods has made me owl- proof—to modify an old saying. You are play- ing a game, Mt. Morey, and a desperate game too, which pot are not going to win.” “What know you about my business, sir?” the schemer demanded, fiercely, | ‘More than you think,” was the quiet reply. ““In fact, I know nearly all. See! do you recognize that?” and he held up the likeness of baby Lillian Revere within a yard of his lord- ship’s face. ‘““A thousand furies! Where did you get that ?” he cried, grabbing for it, but without success, ‘‘Tell me, man, how came you in ion of tha’ eness of her? possessii f that lik f her?” “None of your business, sir. I'll bid you oot ey and leave you to imagine the rest, a! ha! Success to you!” a with a laugh the Bravo passed into the neh. ; For the moment the baronet stood gazing after him, speechless and livid with rage. “‘Curses on his soul!” he gritted, clinching his hands until the nails cut the flesh. / “T hated the fellow from the moment I first saw him, and now I have a cause. But, aha! ee his supposed triumph over me is short- ived! ; He hastily sought Count de Rablee, and drew him one side, : “Sh!” he uttered, in a husky whisper. ‘‘ Arm yourself with a sure powder to-night, and man- age to drop it into Wild Frank’s coffee.” “Why?” the chemist demanded, in surprise. ‘Because we must be rid of him. He knows « the whole secret,” “Yes. "Will you do this for me?” “T will guarantee my rival never sees to- morrow’s run rise,” the Parisian assured, show- — be teeth in a horrible grin. t. Morey turned away then with a feeling of relief. Just at dusk he lit a cigar, and took a stroll outside in the early gloaming. He had not gone five steps ere he came face to face with a masked man! CHAPTER XIX. A DASTARD’S ATTEMPT. ; Ir took but a glance for the lord to recog- J nize him as his visitor of several evenings on

Page 26

24 before—for it was, in reality, Dr. Deering in disguise. *“Hello! I was watching for you,’ he said. **Come along out of sight, if you want to talk business.” : Mt. Morey obeyed, for he was even more pager to arrange matters than the renegade, who led the way to a sectaded little valley near the Ranch, Here they paused and became seated upon the grass, Deering filling and lighting a pipe. “ Now, to begin with, what will you give me to produce this man Revere?” he asked. ‘‘ Mone is money with me, and business is business. ks ou come down in good shape, I’m your man; if you don't, I’m off again.” “Pll give you five thousand dollars if you will bring him before me and my ward and cause him to swear, in the presence of others, that, according to his best belief, the girl is his own daughter.” “That would be impossible,” Deering aver- red. ‘Revere hates mo worse than an Indian does a rattlesnake, and I could not persuade him to do anything like that, All I can do is pro- duce him, which I will do for ten thousand.” _ “TI do not want him unless he can be per- puaded to identify the girl. 1 will give youa kimdred dollar's to take him a prisoner and de- ‘liver him to me at some given point not far from here, where I can induce him, by coaxing or by force, to accede to my wishes.” "Oh! no. You are hl nine thousand and nine hundred dollars below my terms,” the doc- tor declared, decidedly. ‘VI g*ve you five minutes to decline or accept.” “T do not need that time,” his lordship re- sponded emphatically. ‘‘I decline, forthwith. I “2 not a bank on which you can draw at will. “But you are a dainty little game-bird such as I occasionally make it a point to pluck, Ha! ha!” and with a wicked laugh, the renegade drew and cocked a formidable revolver, and leveled it at Mt. Morey’s head, “If you will be so kind and accommodating, my royal Bri- tish buck, I’d like to have you hand over your plethoric purse, and your chronometer, diamond ring, pin, and such other wallybles as you may chance to have.” _ “What! you are not such a villain that you would rob me!” his lordship gasped, in genuine alarm, : _~ “Tam sorry that necessity so compels me to violate the biblical commandments,” was the eynical reply. ‘‘ But such, unfortunately for you, is the case. Hither you must give me the cosey little sum of ten thousand dollars for de- livering up to you one certain pilgrim named _ Ralph Revere, or I shall have to relieve you of such lucre as you carry about your estimable person, and run the risk of getting as much,” _ “TIL see you in Iceland before I'll yield to your demand, sir!” ‘Pll see you in a place of extremely oppo- ' site temperature if I ever show you the man you want,” Deering chuckled. ‘Throw wu - your hands and let me go through you, or I'll pat a bullet into your cranium, and then strip ~ you. Mt. Morey obeyed with a bitter curse, He | AE Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. did not for a moment doubt that the renegade would be Beast! to execute his threat, if pro- voked, and his valuation of life, as compared with what valuables he had about his person, was great. Deering proceeded with his search in a sys- tematic way which showed he had served an Su puenticenay at it. And after he had secured all that was of any particular value to him, he turned to leave. ‘*By-by, John Bull!” he said. ‘Go back to the island and tell your countrymen how yon came over tosee the elephant and found him tew home!” He then backed out of the valley keeping Mt. Morey covered, until the hill hid him from view. His lordship went back to the Ranch and sought his room, where he could curse himself unmolested. He had lost about three thousand dollars in money, besides a handsome watch and other jewelry. “ Poiled be rae he hissed, pacing the floor like a caged lion. ‘But, by Heavens, I will fight it out on this line till I win or lose all. If Ralph Revere is in this country, alive, I will find him and make him answer my purpose. To that I solemnly swear.” Shortly after his meeting with Mt. Morey, Wild Frank entered the pupeer room of the Ranch to get his evening rations, which were — being prepared. _As he did so he saw Rablee in the act of drop- ping Granare Chae i his (Frank’s) cup of coffee, hire ad eady been placed upon the le. sy Soest his horrible intention, the Buck- skin Bravo whipped his revolver from his belt with a lightning movement, and fired, the bul- let shattering the treacherous Frenchman’s wale and causing him to leap about and yel\ ustily. The supper-room was the scene of confusion ~ in an instant. ¢ John Papanaugh accompanied by several herders, rushed in, armed with rifles, and were © followed almost instantly by Humming Bird and Lady Lily. “What is the matter?” John Pa anaugh das manded of Frank. ‘Who fired that shot?” “T am the man,” the Bravo replied, com: posedly. ‘‘I entered this room just in time to detect yonder howling coyote in the act of putting something in my coffee, - Suspecting his. ages design, I shot him through the wrist. “How is this?”? Papanaugh demanded fiercely, drawing a revolver, and advancing toward De Rablee. ‘ Explain, sir, or PU finish the job Wild Frank has just begun.” “Tt all ze grande mistake,” the Parisian chat- tered, between groans of pain, his face deathly pale. ‘Ze mi-lord bilious, and he told me to prepare ze proper remedy, and put it in his coffee, at ze end of ze table. I do zat, when ze Tuan aloe ae 2 ze wrist. Ne 70 rea s this true?” Papanau: emanded, turning to Mt. Morey, who etka red just in time to overhear what had been said. Baie ea “Of eourse it is true, onl

Page 27

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. H y: yards has made a mistake in the end of the table where 1 sit,” his lordship lied garni Gok “This may seem plausible to the rest of you, but I do not feel inclined to swallow it, no more than would I yonder coffee,” Wild Frank replied. “If it is true that what his Frenchness dropped into the coffee was simply a remedy for biliousness—then perhaps he will not object to drinking the, cup of coffee to satisfy my sts- picion of foul play.” ‘‘Pshaw! this is nonsense!” Mt, Morey pro- tested, blusteringly. “ Zis is utter madness,” Rablee added. ‘ Ze remedy cure biliousness, but be sure death to any person who is not afflicted with ze ailment. I am in ze most perfect health—mon dieu, it would be ze death of me!” and he looked all the horror he knew how. “Your story is weak,” Wild Frank said, ‘But Pll give you one more chance. Let the one drink the coffee fer whom it was prepared. e it does not kill him, Tl drop the matter ere, “Curses, no¥’ Mt. Morey cried. ‘“‘I have quite recovered from my attack, and it would kill me, of course,” ‘* Presumedly!” the Buckskin Bravo retorted, ‘* Your disease evidently was short-lived.” Then turning to Rablee he added: ‘ And to you, sir, I'll _give one hour to forever leave this vicinity. If I ever catch sight of you after that, PU cut your treacherous heart out!” . 3 CHAPTER XX. _ THE BIRD AND THE VULTURE. “Witp FRANK big fool!” John Papanaugh said, growlingly. ‘‘ Ought to kill and scalp the snake on the spot.” ‘‘No!” the scout said, calmly, “‘ for it has al- ways been my rule to give an enemy a chance for lis lite. As I would disdain to cross wea- pons with yonder wretch, Pll do the next best thing—give him a chance for his life, palely. promising him that if he ever crossesmy pa again, it shall be his Levi sy Go, sir— ce + i lest I be tempted to kill you on the spot! A window was open at Rablee’s elbow, and ot ee a a pee el cat he lea rough it an sappeared, glad, no doubt, to escape with his life, “And _ now, as for you,” Wild Frank said, facing Mt. Morey, ‘‘ whom I believe to be impli- cated in this cowardly attempt on my life, I shall extend to you the warning not to get nearer to me than five feet, lest I slap your mouth for you, and thus necessitate an affair of honor, in which you would come up missing.” He then turned and strode to the bar-room, and sat down as though nothing had happened. Mt. Morey took advantage of the chance af- forded him, and returned to his room, where once more he paced the floor in a state of baffled fury that knew no bounds. cee ild Frank retired early that night, for it was bis intention to take a ride to the moun- tains early the following morning, for a purpose ' which he alone knew. | : In fact, every one within the ranch retired _ earlier than usual, except Humming-Bird, who fat up after the rest had retired to talk with a ‘ ee. ebts,) her new suitor, stalwart, handsome Jack de erne, it was nearly midnight ere the herder took leave, and the pretty half-breed girl accom- - panied him to the door to say good-night as he strode across the prairie to his own cabin, She stood thus in the doorway, the cool even- ing breeze tossing her luxuriant hair, until his - footsteps had grown inaudibie, and was about ee to re-enter the Ranch, when she hearda > ‘aint cry. 7 With a start, she sane breathing for an in: ; stant, and bent forward in an attitude. of listen: _ ing. The cry had not sounded more than a dozen away, 4 a Birdie? het ! help!” she now heard, distinct- _ ly, a little further off. ‘Something has happened to Jack,” she gasped, and ran swiftly out on the prairieinthe irection of the cry, not stopping to consider, And, searcely a rod had she gone, when a man sprung up from behind a little prairie knoll and seized her. ss She instantly recognized him as being Bob Harris, and uttered a shrill scream of alarm. With an oath, he sprung away, with her in his arms, holding a hand over her mouth. . ; er scream had been the signal for two-score of: red-skins to leay from the grass, and sur- round the Ranch with hideous war-cries, and a erce attack was made upon the cabin door, which had been slammed shut, and barred, j a in time to opaie their enfering. Tt was Wild Frank who had done this, just in the nick of time. He had heard Humming Bird’s scream, leaped from his couch of skins and down the stairs all in almost an instant; he saw the swarm of dusky forms out on the prai- rie, and shut and barred the door in another in- stant, ~ a He was already dressed, as luck. would have it, not having undressed on retiring, and, seiz- ing his trusty rifle, he took a place at one of the loop-holes, on the Cede ae es e€ was speedily joined by John Papanaugh, who came tumbling down the stairs more asleep — than awake. 2 ““What’s the matter?’ he cried, intuitively seizing his rifle, and rubbing bis eyes. hie “‘The matter is that Birdie’s gone, and we're ~ surrounded by reds,” Frank replied. ax And, even as he spoke the Indians without commenced a fie’ ce attack upon the door of the eabin with their tomahawks. ae ‘You .hear?” the scout continued, grimly. ‘They mean business, and there’s only six of us in the Ranch, four of whom cannot be depended on, It remasns for us two to—work !” / oes Papanaugh nodded understandingly. Hewas — fully awake now, anc griped his rifle with save age determination, ees Several shots were fired, but were only an — They did not reach — swered by derisive. yells, the savage attackers." ‘““We must manage to reach them from some other source, before they get the door down, or our game is up,” Frank declared, anxiously, ee “Me got ib fixed,” the half-breed replied, as ~~ he pointed to two plugs, one of which was driven slant-wise into either door-post, ee : each other, and po: bn ing toward

Page 28

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo, center without, opposite the center of the door. “Pull plugs out, and find loop-holes.” This was accordingly done, and a literal vol- ley fired upon the horde of savages around the door, followed by another and another as fast as the two defenders could manipulate their re- peating rifles. It was not cries of derision that now answered their fire, but yells of morta] pain, and of 2, and there was a general stampede from the vicinity of the door, followed by a brooding stillness without. Lady Lily came down-stairs, now, carrying a light sporting rifle of handsome firfish. ** Am I too late?” she cried gayly, ‘‘ I’m sure I could hit one of the savage brutes.” ‘‘ We've scattered ’em for the present,” Wild Frank replied, smiling. ‘‘ You may possibly have an opportunity yet, before the night is over. Where is his lordliness?” “In the hallway above, pene in one cor- ner like a scared poodle,” Lady Lily replied. “T wouldn’t be such a timid goose as he is for the world.” For nearly an hour the quiet continued, and ’ not a sign of the enemy could be seen or heard. ‘*T reckon they’ve gone for good,” Papanaugh said. ‘Don’t fool yourself. They'll not give up without another attack,” the Buckskin Bravo replied. ‘Ah! didn’t I tell you!” A loud chorus of yells now pealed forth on all sides of the cabin. They had surrounded it. “Now, then, each one take a loop-hole and watch for a painted head,” Frank said, and ac- cordingly three sides of the cabin were taken and Fg ate After the series of yells all again became quiet without. . What the reds were doing was unknown to the three defenders, for nothing could be seen of them for upward of an hour. Then Wild Frank discovered them, mounted upon their ponies, and riding swiftly toward the north through the moonlight. The cause of their flight soon became apparent, as a band of mountain herders dashed past the cabin in hot pursuit. The danger was over. A consultation was now held, and Wild Frank declared his intention of going in quest of Hum- ming Bird. ‘Before you £0,” Lady Lily said, leadin him to one side. ‘‘I want you to tell me wha’ you know about me.” “About you?” Frank asked, feigning sur- rise. “Yes, about me. I accidentally overheard the words between you anda Mt. Morey tc-night, as you stood outside the cabin, and am positive that you know whether I am the real Lillian Revere or not. If you do know, for Heaven's sake tell me, and relieve me of an awful sus- nse. “T will tell you all on condition that you will consent to be my wife on my return from finding Humming Bird,” the scout said, earnest- ly. ‘I have grown to love you sincerely since meeting you, and trust you give my honest af- _. fection encouragement,” \ “T do not deny a strong love for you, Wild Frank,” was the slow reply, as she gazed up into: his eyes; “‘and if I am really Lillian Revere, I will gladly give you my hand. But if I am some nameless outcast—picked i by Mt, Mo- oo a will never wed any man; will kill my- self und end my—misery !” CHAPTER XXI. THE MEDICINE-WOMAN- REVEALED. ‘““THAT would be very wrong,” the scout an- swered, taking her slender hands in his strong ones. ‘‘To throw away a life because you could not command a title, would be utter non- sense, especially when you would have a true and faithful protector in me.” “Then am [not the real Lillian Revere?” she demanded, wildly. ‘‘It must be so, or you would not talk that way.” “Pshaw! Donot get excited. I cannot an. swer your question until my return, when I mor possibly ring Sir Ralph Revere with me, and also his wife,” “Oh, do not! They will denounce me as a fraud and impostor.” “Maybe not. If they should, you know to whom you may fly for love and protection through life.” “No—no! Gladly will I accept pas offer, Wild Frank, if I can come to you in bridal with a title and plenty of money, but never will [ wed: you knowing that I am some nameless waif of the streets of London, picked up by Mt. Mo- rey to further his mercenary suhemes, I would rather go away to some lonely spot and lay down and die, in the consciousness that I was guiltless of casting my humble lot with a man of noble nature like you!” ‘© Well, when I return, I do not think you will have cause for a moment to consider such arash move. By-by, now! A lover’s kiss, and then I am merrily off over the prairies to the rescue of the Humming Bird.” The kisses were exchanged between the strange~ ly contrasted pair; then Wild Frank left the nch, procured his horse, and was soon gallop- ing away toward the northwest, through the waning moonlight. He did not follow the trail of the red-skins, who, with their pursuers, had disappeared from view down a decline in the prairie, but struck off in a course which experience had taught him was a nearer route to the hills, An hour’s swift ride brought him to the foot- hills of a rocky range, and he entered the same gulch that Humming Bird had entered a few nights previous, and was soon standing at the Ss of the singular aperture where she had ‘‘ Hello!” he challenged, through the hole. “Spirit Medicine-Woman, ahoy!” ‘* What’s wanted and who calls?” was the ak most immediate answer in an unearthly and se pulchral tone. “Tt is I, Wild Frank, the scout,” the Buckskin Bravo answered. ‘I have come to beg a per- sonal and immediate interview with the Spirit — Medicine-W oman.” ‘*Tmpossible!” was the reply. ‘‘ Earthly be- ings can never gain access to the realms of di + parted spirits until after death,” gyaes

Page 29

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Uravo. “‘Pshaw! enough of nonsense!” Wild Frank returned, impatiently. “If you are the one who fifteen years ago was the wife of Sir Ralph Revere, in London, for Heaven’s sake let me in, as I have something of vital importance to com- municate.” < ‘“ What cause have you for imagining me to be Lady Revere?” the secret medicine-woman demanded. “Because I have pictures of yourself, your husband and child, and have seen your face on one or more occasions during my rambles over in the mountains,” was the scout’s prompt an- swer, Following which there was a silence of several minutes’ duration. So long did it continue that Wild Frank grew impatient, and once more applied his mouth to the aperture. ‘‘ Well, are you going to admit me or not?” he askea. “Yes, follow me,” voice a said at his elbow, and turning he beheld a matronly-looking woman of some fifty years standing near him. She was attired in a dress of buckskin, and wore her hair down over her shoulders. Her eyes were brown, and her face, though fur- |’ rowed by time and its neighbor, sorrow, still bore traces of an early beauty. She led the way down the steps, up the gulch a few yards, and into a black fissure in the rocks, which barely admitted the passage of their bodies. Following the fissure a short dis- tance, they suddenly emerged into a cavern of considerable size, which was lighted by a ruddy fire burning in the center. A few rude stools, couches of skins, a rough table, and some pots and kettles comprised the furniture, with the exception of a rifle. Upon one of the couches of furs, near the fire, reclined a man, who arose upon his elbow as the medicine-woman entered, accompanied by the Buckskin Bravo. It required but a glance from the scout’s eagle ee Ge recognize him as the lunatic, Angel Ga- riel. “Be seated,” the woman said, “and state your errand.” ‘‘T willdoso. Are you the wife of Sir Ralph Revere?” ‘‘T am,” was the reply. * And this man is—” | wy husband, sir.” “T thought as much, when I saw him a few poets ago. He is laboring under insanity, is he not? ‘“No, for, thanks to this good Samaritan, I have fully recovered, so that all is clear to me and I reeognize you!” Sir Ralph said, rising and extending his hand. ‘“‘ You, sir, are the one to whom I consigned my two-year-old . child, on es November night, fifteen years age, are you not! “Tam Wild Frank, yes, and received such a child. But, you were dead ere I left you.” “ No, not dead—only in a swoon, superinduced by the faintness caused by my arm, and want of food, I afterward recovered, but bereft of reason to some extent.” “And you?” the scout said, warps to Lady Revere—“‘can you fayor.me with facts of , nurse, 27 bee sirange life romance in which I have had a and? “T can,” was the reply, ‘for I have compared stories with my husband, and we thoroughly understand Low basely we have wronged by the villainy of another. But tell me—is Lord t. Morey here in the West, as I have heard?” “There is sucha man now at Papanaugh’s Ranch,” Wild Frank replied, respectfully. “And is he accompanied by a young woman whom he claims is our child—mine and Sir Ralph’s?” ; “Yes, my lady.” “Then, what we most want to know—is that our Lillian? You, sir, should know, into whose care my husband placed the little thing fifteen years a Wild nk did not answer immediately. He was suddenly assailed with a temptation to de- clare the one he loved so dearly to be the right and only Lillian Revere. : What harm could it be? ‘No one but he and Mt. Morey would know different, perhaps, and it might save adife. Then his thoughts reverted to the little prairie grave, and a feeling of ex- quisite sadness stole o’er him, CHAPPER XXII. A BITTER REVELATION. “You do not answer,” Sir Ralph said. ““What are we to infer by your silence? that our child is living or dead?” “She is dead,” Wild Frank replied, gravely, “and lies buried upon the prairie but a few miles from here. After you gave her to me, I took her to my solitary mountain home, and there carefully reared her until she became a pretty, healthful little maiden, of sweet-dispo. sition and winning ways. I taught her as much as I knew how, and bought her books to read, when at the settlements, so that she was soon able to turn about and teach me. She never left the cabin further than to seek a neighbor- ing peak which commanded a view of the broad | prairies, and when she died, of a sudden fever, she requested me to place her grave down in the rairie. I fulfilled her wish, and placed a mar- le slab at her head, to mark her last resting- place. She was as dear to me as if she were in reality my own child, and her death cast a deep gloom over my life.” : ‘* How long ago did she die!” “Nearly five years. I never examined the contents of the box you gave me, until a few nights since.” 5 Phere was a short silence, and then Lady Revere said: / “T will now relate my story, and we will compare notes. According to my husband, revious to his flight from England, Lord Mt. Morey prejudiced him egainst me by a lying re- port that I was in love with him—Mt. Morey —and nolonger wished to be tied tomy own husband. This was the cause of Sir Ralph’s flight. I learned it afterward from Mt. Morey, _ who taunted me with the faot.. About the — same time my husband left London I was sent word that he was dangerously hurt, and lying in a private hospital in another part of London. Leaving, my child in ge of my French hastened to the place. » suspecting 20

Page 30

28 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. avil until too late, when I found myself incar- eerated in a private mad-house, hopelessly in- sane, they said. Maybe I was. At times’ it seemed tome I should go crazy. In due time Mt. Morey called upon me, and offered to ecure my release if I would marry him before { saw the outside of my dungeon. Irefused him, of course. Again and again he came with his offer, and as many times I scornfully repulsed him, until one day, in a taunting mood, he told me how he had been the projector of one of the most devilish plots ever concocted, the result of waich-you already can see—my. husband driven from England, and I placed inan asylum. The object he said was to get possession of some money which he first halioved had fallen to me, but later learned was willed to my child. After that his visits ceased for a time, until one day he visited me in company with another man, and asked meif alittle girl, whom be had also brought along, was my child, winking at me as much as to say that if I would identify the child -as mine, he would liberate me. ‘*OF course I denied the child, emphatically, and they left. After that I was not visited by any one except my keepers. Nearly a year [ remained in the mad-house; then I escaped. You may rest assured it, was the ragga aay of my life. In a secluded part of London went to work, until Thad accumulated enough money to defray my expenses to America, Hore I came, in search of my husband and child, praying God to assist me to find them. Knowing a had always talked much of Western Amoprica, I came to the West in search of him. For twelve years I roamed through the States und Territories as an Indian medicine-woman, ever on the search. I had a knowledge of medi- _ cine, and by experience acquired more. “Twelve years without success. Two years ago, I ran across Sir Ralph, asI believed, and found him a lunatic.. I brought him here, and worked over him’to restore his mind, but when _I was just beginning to have hopes, he dis- a»peared, and I did not see him again for months, Thus four times did Irun across him and he escape me. A few nights ago, J found him wounded, upon the prairie, and brought him hither, and by the grace of God I have succeaded in bringing back his full reason.” “You are a noble woman,” the scout said, heartily, ‘‘and He who ever watches over us, - willever after guide you into a happy pathway. _ I feel sorry for one person—the poor misled girl who has been taught to suppose that she was Lillian Revere. She is a noble, sweet-hearted girl, and my only wish is that she might always be led, in the future as in the past, to suppose that sho is really your daughter.” “Tf she is guch a pure, noble girl as you de- scribe, I see no reason why we should mar her young life by not claiming her, as our own, so _ tong as own child is dead,” Sir Ralph said, _ turning to Lady Revere. , -“T will not object, dear husband, for I have eyes keen enough to see that our true and tried friend here, Wild Frank, who cared for. our poor Lillian, is in love with this false heiress, and I feal that we ought to reward him. But should we claim her, Mt. Morey, out of spite, would ‘be likely to give the whole deception away. ‘That can be arranged,” Wild Frank said, **Tn your name I will have him seized and taken to the post, charged with his several criminal acts. You, Sir Ralph, can then visit him and offer him his liberty if he will forever quit the country and give up his game.” “By no means! I shall seek him as soon as I am able and challenge him to meet me with swords,” the baronet said, sternly, “‘and if I am half as good a man as I once was, 1 can for- ever settle our account. I should never rest easy otherwise.” ‘**Do as you like about that, sir. I must now bid you adieu, for I have a mission in the moun- tains that demands my attention. I suppose I will see you next at the settlement.” ** Yes, We shall probably gothere to face our old foe to-morrow,” Sir Ralph responded. He then showed Wild Frank from the cavern, and the scout set off on horseback into the moun- tains. He did not know the exact location of the out- laws’ rendezvous, but was resolved to search for it until he found it, if it took a month. He rode along the At until he came to a transverse gulch. ero he dismounted and picketed his horse. _. He had scarcely done so ere a score of painted red-skins sprung up from the shelter of various trees and rocks and surrounded him with yells of victory. : Drawing his revolver, the intrepid scout be- gan a deadly fire into their midst, and full half their number lay outstretched upon the ground oF he was forced to submit to overpowering odds, “Aha! so we've caught you at last, eh?” a triumphant voice cried, as the red devils were binding him, and Jim Harris stepped into view. T allow we'll have a roast up at camp now. eb Fae: devil scout, we’re going to roast ye alive ‘Roast and be hanged,” was the defiant an- swer of the Buckskin Bravo, CHAPTER XXII. IN THE HUMAN TIGER’S DEN. Wirnovur further parley, a thick bandage was placed before Wild Frank’s eyes, and he was marched off between a group of his red captors, , Not a word was spoken, only the sound of many footfalls awakening the echoes of the rocky ravine. It was fully an hour, as near as the scout could judge, before a halt was made, and the bandage removed from before his eyes, enabling him to note his surroundings. The halt had been made in the interior of a large rocky cavern, in front of the narrow en- trance to which was a level rocky plateau. Looking out of the entrance the prisoner could see nothing but blank space, and rightly con- cluded that the cave was near the top of a moun- tain, but just which one he had no way of learn ing. . ‘ 3 The interior of the cayern, which was fur — {

Page 31

take me back to the Ranch, if 1 wil! consent to nished with furs,weapons and usual cane peat tenances, was the retreat of Wyoming and his desperate gang of renegade red and white outlaws; but, alas! for the aforesaid band, they had lost their notorious chief. x Among those who surrounded him Wild Frank was not surprised to see the Harris brothers and Doc Deering. He had long sus- pected that they belonged to the outlaws; but, until now, had not been able to obtain any | proof against them. “Yas, this is our head-quarters,” Jim Harris remarked, interpreting the meaning cf the scont’s glance around. ‘‘ How d’ye like the looks of it? Recken it don’t look purty wel- come, eh?” ‘ Better git him a Bible,” Bob Harris sneered, ‘so thet he kin beg'n ter learn how to say his ereyers.” : ‘You need not trouble yourself,” Wild Frank torted. ‘Ten to one you three ruffians will need to say your prayers before I will.” At this the outlaw laughed loudly, and turned away. The Indians then bound the scout’s feet, and he was tossed upon a pile of skins in a corner of the cave, where he was left for hours. - Daydawn soon peeped in at the mouth of the cave, and he could see the red-skins congregated upon the plateau without, and also the white outlaws, and concluded that they were holding a pow-wow—probably concerning what disposi- tion was to be made of their prisoner. What would be the result? To Wild Frank it was apparent that some horrible plan of torture would be devised, which would end in death, unless he was rescued. That no one would come to his rescue, he felt certain, for his two pards were on their way to the military post, and there was no one else in the vicinity who would come in search of him. The prospent was therefore anything but pleasant. He was in the midst of contemplation of his situation when he felt a alee touch upon his back, and whirled around to find no one less than the Humming Bird near him, “Sh! for your life, don’t speak above a whis- per!” she said, in a smothered tone, ‘I have managed to get here without attracting notice. Do you know what they propose to do with you?” “No more than that they threatened to roast me,” the scout replied. “Yes; that is just what they intend to do,” the half-breed girl assured, ‘‘ new, if ever.” sf That is impossible, I fear,” with a dubious shake of his head. ‘tf and unarmed,” “T will free you of your bonds,” Humming Bird replied, producing a sharp knife, and sev- ering the cords that bound his hands and feet, ‘Now take this knife and watch your chance to make your escape.” : “But yon—I came to rescue you, and cannot J, go hack without you?” “Do. not risk your own safety on my ace count,” the girl answered. ‘‘I have a better plan, which will work with less danger. Bob. Harris threatens to give me my li»erty. and ~ ou must escape am bound and helpless, " Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 29 marry him as soon as we get there. f shall con- sent to this, and thus get back to my brother, and then denounce these ruffians.” “But, is this notrisky? They may force you to keep your pledge.” “That they cannot do, Before they can make me, you can come and arrest them,” “Tf successful in escaping, yes. It would be a triumph I would crave.” “Then I will look for you. coming. {must go.” She glided away through a fissure in the rock, into some inner cave, and that was the last the scout saw of her, in the rendezvous, The three outlaws now entered, and approach- ed where Wild Frank still lay, as if bound and helpless. He had the knife concealed in the sleeve of his buckskin jacket, ready for instant sae sowerers and was resolyed to sell ‘his life early. ‘Well, we've held a meeting,” Jim Harris said, folding his arms, ‘‘ and the reds reckon as how they orter hev ye fer a roast, You've killed a heap of their brothers, and raised the deuce generally, and they allow they’d feel safer ef you war evaporated in a cload o’ smoke. An’ so, as we're under deep obligations to the afore- said reds, we must rend our hearts in sorrow, and lose you, our loved one.” “How long before the interesting ceremony is to commence, may I ask?” Wild Frank inquired with the utmost composure. “You'll be informed, as soon as we decide,” Jim Harris answered, turning away, followed by his comrades. They returned in about an hour, however, and Bob Harris said: “The fair Humming Bird has corsented te become Mrs. Bob Harris, old boy, so you see Sh! some one is we've won everything. I start at once for mid- _ prairie, where the eRe will be pei formed to-morrow eye, at six o’clock, by the Reverend Doctor Deering, here. Part o: keep us company. The remainder of ’em, and brother Jim will stay here, and to-morrow eve, at six o’clock the fires will be lighted what is to burn yeup. ‘Ta! ta! old long hair. I wish you a warm and pleasant trip. Drop me a postal. card when you cross the line, and tell me how you like it.’ “ Perhaps you will hear from me again,” Wild _ Frank suggested, significantly. CHAPTER XXIV. A TIMELY VICTORY. Bos Harris and the Humming Bird accom panied by Doc Deering and a dozen renegade red-skins, soon left the cave en route for the prairie, Where the ceremony was to take place. After they had gone, and when the shades of night were creeping into the cave, Jim Harris uvht a heavy blanket and lay down between id Frank and the mouth of the cave. (Abbe outlaw rolled himself in his blanket, pre- tory for a nap, and it was but a short while ere his heavy breathing pronounced him to, he asleep. ga = #ben Wild Frank nerved himself for the task, the reds will

Page 32

SO Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. ee —_—_———__ --- wefore him. All the reds were rolled in their blankets in another part of the cavern—Harris’s body was the only obstacle between the scout and liberty! Grasping his knife firmly in his right hand he arose quickly and softly to his feet. To his surprise Jim Harris did the very same thing, and for the instant the two mortal ene- mies stood glaring at each other, neither mak- inz a single motion, offensive or defensive. Till, with a faint hiss, the Buckskin Bravo leaped forward, with a lightning-like move- ment, and plunged the knife into the ruffian’s breast, at the same time clutching his throat to prevent his raising an alarm. Dropping the knife he then supported Harris back to the ground, and held him there till his life ebbed out. Satisfied that Harris was dead, Wild Frank appropriated the outlaw’s revolvers, and once more rose to his feet. The silent encounter had not aroused any of the sleeping reds, and he stole cautiously toward the mouth of the cave, and soon succeeded in aining the plateau outside and the free air of iberty. “* Now then, to the rescue again,” he muttered. “The first thing is to get out of the mountains, and the next thing is to hs the trail of Bob Harris and his party. After that, leave it to me to step in and win the game.” A few more scenes will suffice to close our little lifs drama. In the heart of a deep prairie motte, where nature had left a little clearing, stood a group of people, at six o’clock the following day. _ First noticeable was Bob Harris, who held the pumming Bird beside him, evidently against her will, for she was crying bitterly. In front of them Deering stood with an open prayer- book, while the red-skins were squatting around the trio in a circle. “Shet up yer sniveling!” Bob He -ris was say- ing, ‘‘fer 16 won’t do ye no good. Ye’ve gut ter marry me now an’ here, an’ ther sooner ther better. Ye needn’t think ye kin git out of it, fer ye can’t.” “T want to go to the ranch—I won’t marry any one till Isee my brother,” Humming Bird tearfully protested. . “Yor goin’ to do as I want—not as you want!” Harris growed, drawing and cocking a ‘revolver and placing it acainst the side of her wad. ‘It’s jest six o’clock now, and we'll pro- coed with the ceremony, knowin’ that the flames even now begin to tickle the legs of Wild Frank! .Hal ha! Revenge is sweet. I can even now smell his flesh scorching!” “Monster!” Humming Bird gasped. __“Shet up!” her proposed spouse eruffly re- lied. ‘‘Jest ye mind what ther minister sez. o ahead, doctor; let the funeral purceed.” Accordingly, Deering proceeded to read from the book a marriage service, and soon came to _ the query passage, which he modified to suit the Ovcasion + ; ‘If thar’s enny one present who has got any reason ter say why this marriage shall not take place, let him step forward and say so, or for ever hereafter shet up!” “And I step for.vard, here and now, % for- bid the banns!” Wild Frank cried, leaping for- ward into the glade from the edge of the timber. followed by Laughing Len, Eagle Eye, and full two-score of cavalrymen. ‘Stand and deliver in the name of the law!” The surprise was complete and overwhelming, and the Indians and two outlaws were secu in the same time it takes to tell it. ‘*Ha!l ha! You smell my meat roastiag, eh?” Wild Frank said grimly confronting Bob Harris, ‘*'You’ll have plenty of time on your way to the post to join Wyoming Bill’s tight-rope per- formance,” Taking Humming Bird, Wild Frank soon after set out for Papanaugh’s, while the soldiers went into camp until the morrow, when a raid was to be made on the outlaws’ stronghold. On his way to the Ranch, the scout related to Humming Bird how-he had escaped, aid, as luck would have it, had fallen in with the cay- alry, who were on the way to the hills to rout out the outlaws. Len and Hagle Eye had also met them, and sending the outlaw chief on to the fort in charge of a posse of soldiers, had come back to help take the rendezvous, ‘ CHAPTER XXYV. MT. MOREY’S PARTING THRUST—CONCLUSION. ARRIVING at the Ranch with Humming Bird, Wild Frank found Sir gy te and Lady Haver already there, and Lord Mt. Morey and his as- sociates gone. The villainous nobleman had sloped shortly before Revere’s arrival, having evidently got wind of his coming, and concluded not to meet one whom he had sa deeply wronged. Slick and his valet had also gone. The English lawyer had also departed, having adjusted the business and settled the fortune ~ upon Lady Lillian, whom Sir Ralph had recog- nized as his own child. Finding everything all working well, Wild Frank took leave early in the pean to join the raid upon the mountain stronghold, promis- | ing to be back within a week, when it was ar- ranged that he and Lady Lily should be wedded and also at the same time Jack de Herne and Humming Bird. The attack upon the rendezvous was success- fully made, one night later and all the Indians either killed or captured. Thus ended the existence of one of the worst bands of outlaws that ever infested the wilds of Wyoming. t the conclusion,of the raid, Wild Frank and his pards returned to Papanaugh’s where the Buckskin Bravo received one of the hardest blows of his life. Lady Lily had disappeared, and not a trace could be found of her. All that the Reveres knew about the matter was explained in a letter which she had left be- hind, addressed to the scout. It read as follows: ““Witp Frank:—When_ you get this I shall be far from here. dead. Ibave found out the deceit that has been practiced onme, Mt, Morey has sent we ry

Page 33

Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. vets a taunting letter telling me thatI am not the child of the Reveres but the daughter of a rum-drinking old Watch-womanin London. God forbid, now. that I should ever have lived to love and be loved. when my low birth places an eternal barrier between us. Good-by, love. May we meet to know one another in the next world. “Your betrothed—in death, v “ Liy. ” With the keenest anguish the Buckskin Bravo read this, and for days, weeks—ay, even months, he scoured the prairies in search of his lost darling, but never found her. Then he pied deeper into the wilderness as guide of the Unit States exploring and surveying expedition, a man with life imbittered—with affection seared by Death’s grim hand. Several years have passed since that memo- rable season, and time deals gently with the Buckskin Bravo, and not a month goes by that is not indelibly stamped with some startling scene of his wild career. The Reveres returned to England; Jack De Herne married Humming Bird and still lives at Papanaugh’s; Wyoming Bill and his pards were taken from jail and lynched without any trial; Mt. Morey and his crew were never after hear from; at this writing Laughing Len and Eagle Eye are up in North Montana trapping; Wild Frank lies sick in Kansas City, Mo.—and here we lay our pen in its bracket, light our sanctum pipe, and bid our friends au revoir, THE END. DIME HAND-BOOKS. Young Puopie’s Series. Baapie’s Dimz Hanp-Books For Younae PEROPLE cover a wide range of subjects, and are aspecially adapted to their end. Ladies’ Letter-Writer. Book of Games. Gents’ Letter-Writer Fortune-Teller. Book of Etiquette. Lovers’ Casket. Book of Verses. Ball-room Companion, Book of Dreams. Book of Beauty. Hand-Books of Games. Handbook ef Summer Sports. Book of Crequet. Yachting and Rowing. Chess Instructor, Riding and Driving. Cricket and Football Book of Pedestrianism, Guide to Swimmin; Handbook of inter Sports—Skating, etc. r Lives of Great Americans. I.—George Washington. | VIII.—Israel Putnam. Tl.--—John Paul Jones. X,.—Tecumseh. TH.—Mad AnthonyWayne | XI.—Abraham Lincoln. TV.—Ethan Allen. XI.—Pontiac. V.—Marquis de Lafayette | XIII.—Ulysses S. Grant, Song Books. Buspir’s Dru Sone Boors, Nos. 1 to 84, contain he only popular collection of copyright songs. The above publications are for sale by all news- dealers or will be sent, post-paid, on receipt of price, ten cents each, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, & Wriiau STREET, N.Y, ; el ee BEADLE AND ADAMS’ STANDARD DIME PUBLICATIONS Speakers. Each volume contains 100 large pages, printed from clear, open type, comprising the best coilec- tion of Dialogues, Dramas and Recitations. The Dime Speakers embrace twenty-four volumes, viz.: 1. American Speaker, 15. Komikal Speaker. 2. National Speaker. 16. Youth’s Speaker. 3. Patriotic Speaker, 17. Eloquent Speaker. 4. Comic Speaker. 18, Hail Columbia Speak- 5. Elocutionist. er. 6. Humorous Speaker. | 19. Serio-Comic Speaker, 7. Standard Speaker. 20. Select Speaker, 8. Stump Speaker. 21. Funny Speaker. 9. Juvenile Speaker. 22. Jolly Speaker. 10, pee es Speaker | 23. Dialect Speaker. 11. Dime Debater. 24. Recitations and Read 12, Exhibition Speaker. x ings. 13. School Speaker, 25. Burlesque Speaker, 14, Tudicrous Speaker. These books fre replete with choice pieces for the School-room, the Exhibition, for Homes, etc. 75 to 100 Declamations and Recitations in each book, Dialogues, The Dime Dialogues. each volume 100 pages, em | brace thirty-two books, viz.: Dialogues No, One. Dialogues No. Eighteen. Dialogues No. Two. Dialogues No. Nineteen. Dialogues No. Three Dialogues No. Twenty. Dialogues No. Four. Dialogues No. Twenty-one. Dialogues No. Five. Dialogues No. Twenty-two. Dialogues No, Six. , |Dialogues No, Twenty-three. Dialogues No. Seven. Dialogues No, Twenty-four. Dialogues No. Eight. |Dialogues No. Twenty-five. Dialogues No. Nine. Dialogues No. Twenty-six, Dialogues No. Ten. DialoguesNo. Twenty-seven, ialogues No. Eleven. |Dialogues No. Twenty-eight. Dialogues No. Twelve. |Dialogues No. Twenty-nine. Dialogues No. Thirteen. |Dialogues No. Thirty. Dialogues No, Fourteen. |Dialogues No. Thirty-one, Dialogues No. Fifteen. |Dialogues No, Thirty-two. Dialogues No. Sixteen. |Dialogues No. Thirty-three, Dialogues No.Seventeen 15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book. Dramas and Readings. 164 12mo Pages. 2 Cents, ‘ For Schools, Parlors, Entertainments and the Ames ateur Stage, comprising Original Minor Dramas, Comedy, Farce, Dress Pieces, Humorous Dialogue and Burlesque, by noted writers; and Recitations” and Readings, new :nd standard, of the greates$ — celebrity and interest. Edited by Prof. A.M. Rusrell, Manuals for Housewives. 1, Cook Book. 4, Family Physician. 2. Recipe Book. 5. Dressmaking and 8. Housekeeper’s Guide. linery. we (2 The above books are sold by newsdea 5 everywhere, or will be sent, post-paid, to envads dress, on receipt of price, ten cents each, Ems o> aénp Apams, Publishers 98 William st,, N, %

Page 34

BUPPALO BILL Novels in the DIME LIBRARY 2% Death Trailer, the Chief of Scouts; or, Life and Hove in a Frontier Fort, By Buffalo Bill, _ , we te RR wie PE bial Breet ie Fe: Si Be di "it The Doomed Dozen; or, Buffalo Bill, Chief of Scouts. By Dr. Frank Powell. 4. > Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead-Shot. A Romance of Buffalo Bill’s Old Pard. By Col. P.jIingraham, 5 Wild Biil’s Trump Card; or, The Indian Heiress, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 189 Wild Bill’s Gola Trail; or, The Desperate Dozen, By Col, Prentiss Ingraham, : 43 The Pilgrim Sharp; or,The Soldier’s Sweetheart, By Buffalo Bill, Government Scout and Guide. $19 Nae the Whirlwina of the West. By But- o Bill. my The League of Three; or, Buffalo Bill’s Pledge, By Col. PrentissIngraham, . 47 The Wizara Brothers; or, White Beuver’s Trail, By Buffalo Biil. : ‘1 The One-Armed Pard; or, Red Retribution in Borderland. By Buffalo Bill. {7 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail; or, Will Cody, the Pony Express Rider. By Ned Buntline, 99 The Dead Shot Nine; or, My Pards of the Plains. By Buffalo Bill. \39 Daredeath Dick, i of the Cowboys; or, Buf- falo Bill’s Daring Réle.. By Leon Lewis. 139 The Gold King; or, Montebello, the Magnificent, By Buffalo Bill. ‘4 Buffalo Bill’s Bonanza; or, The Knights of the Silver Circle. By Col P. Ingraham. #9 Buck Taylor, the Saddle K ng. By Col. P. In. graham. { 2 Buffalo Bill’s Secret Service Trail; or, The Mys terious Foe. By Maj. Dangerfield Burr, 391 Buffalo Bill’s Blind Trail; or, Mustang Madge, the Daughter of the Regiment. By Ingraham. 497 Buffalo Bill’s Buckskin Brotherhood; or, Open- ing Up a Lost Trail. By Col P. Ingraham. 110 Buffalo Bill Baffled; or, The Deserter Desperado’s Defiance. By Col, P. Ingraham, #16 Buffa'o Bill’s Scout Shadowers; or, Emerald Ed of Devil’s Acre, By Col. P. Ingraham. ¥22 Buffalo Bill on the War-Path. By Col. Ingraham 127 Buffalo Bill’s Body-guard. By Col, P, Ingraham, *®* Buffalo Bill’s Beagles. By Col. P. Ingraham. - _ Buffaio Bill and His Merry Men. By Col. P. ' {ngraham, ~~ Suffalo Biil’s Blind. Ry Col. P. Ingraham. .w3 Buffalo Bill’s Flush Hand; or, Texas Jack’s Bravos. By Col. P, Ingraham, 150 baffalo Bill’s Big Four. By Col. P. Ingraham. %57 Buffalo Bill’s Double; or, The Desperado Detec- tive. By Qol. Prentiss Ingraham. f “61 Buffalo Bill’s Mascot; or, Death Valley Victim No, 18. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 86 Buffalo Bill's Dozen; or, Silk-Ribbon Sam. By Col Prentiss Ingraham, ‘69 Buffalo Bill’s Sweepstake. By Col. Ingraham. (77 Buffalé Bul's Spy-Shadower,, By Col. Ingraham 800 Wild Bin, the Dead-Center Sho or, Rio Grande Ralph the Cowboy Chief. By Buffalo Bill. “ 80? Wilu Bill, the Wild West Duelist; or, The Giri Mascot of Moonlight Mine. By Buffalo Bill, 812 Buffalo Bill’s Death-Knell; or, Toe Red Hand Riders of the Rockies _ By Col. P Ingraham 820 White Beaver’s Still Hunt; or, The Miner Marauder’s Death-Track. By Buffalo Pill. 822 Buffalo Bill’s Best Bower; or, Montebello, the Gold pane Be Col. P. Ingraham. 826 Buffalo Bill’s Sharp-Shooters; or, The Surgeon Scout to the Rescue. By Col, P. Ingraham, 830 Buffalo Bill’s Boys in Biue; or, The Brimstcne Band’s Blot-out. By Col. Prentiss lugrabam. 839 The Ranch King Dead Shot; or, Texas Jack’s Proxy. By Buffalo Bill. 845 Buffalo Bills Redskin Ruse; or, Texas Jack’ Death Shot. By Co}. Prentiss Ingrabam. 851 Buffalo Bill’s Double Dilemma; or, The Grea» Scout’s Big Three. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham) 857 Buffalo Bill’s Royal Flush; or, The Pony Rider’s Death-Ruo. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 863 Buffalo Bi/l’s Death-Charm; or, The Man Wiib aScar. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 869 Buffalo Bil’s Road-Agent‘Ronad up; or The Mys- terious Masked Manin Black, By Ingraham, 874 Buffalo Bill’s Buckskin Braves; or, The Card neen’s Las'Game_ By Col, P. Ingraham, 882 The Thre< Bills: Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill and Bana box Bill: or. The Bravoin Broadcloth. Ingrabam: 890 Buffalo Bill's Life-Stake; or, The Pledged Turee, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 895 Buffalo BilJ’s Secret ely: or, The Texan” Double, By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. f 900 Buffalo Bill’s Rough Riders; or, Texas Jack’ Sharp-Sbooters, By Cel. P. Ingraham. 004 Buffalo Bill's Tangled Trail; or, Gentleman Jack, the Man of Many Masks, By Ingraham, 909 Boffalo Bill’s League; or. Red Butterfly, Bp» Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 915 B .ffalo Bili and the Surgeon Scout; or Go wan: 0, the Redskin Rider. By Cul. P. Ingraham. 921 Buffato Bill’s Quandary; or, Velvet Bill's Vou By Col, Prentiss Ipgraham. 927 Buffalo Bil’s Buff; or, Dusky Dick, the Sport By Col. P. Ingraham. ; : 936 Buffalo Bill’s Black Pard; or, The Gold Bo cnsex of the Big Horn. By Col. P. Ingraham. 943 Buffalo Bill’s Block Game. By Colenel RB, Ingraham. 950 Buffalo Bill at Bay. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 956 Buffalo Bill’s Volunteer Vigilantes. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham, ‘ 960 Buffalo Bill’s Blue Belt Brigade. By Coloner Prentiss Ingraham. 964 Buffalo Bill's Invincibles. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 069 Texas Jack, the Lasso King; or, The Rob- Ee Rangers of the Rio Grande. By WBuffale 973 The Dread-Shot Four. By Buffalo Bill. 978 Buffalo Bill's. Relentless Trail. By Cot Prentiss Ingraham. n 484 Buffalo Bill’s Life Raffle; or, The Doomed : ree. Ready Sept. 1. \89 Buffalo Bill's Marked Bullet. By Col. 0 Ingraham. Ready Oct. 6. 04 Buffalo Bill’s Lone Hand, By Col. P. In graham. 000 Buffalo Bill’s Grim Guard. By Col. P. In- graham. The above Dims Libraries are For Sale py , NEWSDES?.FERS, ten cents per ° t by mail op”

Page 35

DMART TOASTS FOR THE SMART SET, Vest Pocket Size. 64 Pages. Sewed Book. » Up-to-Date By Mail, Postpaid, I2c. per Copy. t BEST LINE “YIDDISH” YARNS.—A Collection of Hebrew Jokes, Stories, etc. GENTS’ LETTER WRITER.—A Perfect Guide to all kinds of Correspondence. FAMILY PHYSICIAN.—Family Diseases and Their Treatment; Rules of Health, ete. BOOK OF DREAMS.—Their Romance and Mystery, with a Complete Interpretation Dictionary. HOUSEWIFE’S MANUAL.—How to Keep House; How to Dye, Cleanse, ete. VAUDEVILLE JOKER.—Best Jokes by Eminent Vau- deville Artists. BOOK OF _ ETIQUETTE.—Society, Visits, Introdue- tions, Dress, Balls, etc. FORTUNE TELLER.—Fortune Telling by Cards, Tea or Coffee Grounds, Eggs: Palmistry, ete. BOOK OF 100 GAMES,—One Hundred Games for Social Parties and Home Amusements. COOK BOOK.—Economical, Practical, Excellent. LADIES’ LETTER WRITER.—How to Write; {When to Write; What to Write. OF HAND BOOKS PUBLISHED. RECIPE BOOK.—For the Parlor, Nursery, Sick-room, Toitet, Kitchen, Larder, ete. rh ath, BOOK OF BEAUTY,.—Beauty of Form, Color, Head, Hair, Complexion, Skin, ete., with chapters on Perfumes, Cosmetics, ete, BOOK OF VERSES,—Comprising Rhymes, Lines, and Mottoes for Lovers and Friends. THE LOVERS’ CASKET.+A Treatise on and Guide to Friendship, Love, Courtship, and Marriage, “GERMAN ” JOKER.—* Dutch” Jokes and * Gags” by best ‘* Dutch’: 'l’eams on the Stage. “HAYSEED ” JOKER.—The Doings of “ Our Country Cousins; in a Humorous Way. “TRAMP” JOKER.—Good *‘ Handouts” in this Book for Professional and Amateur Butertainers. “COON” YARNS.—Best Jokes Relating to Our “ Dark- er-Skinned Brothers.” “TRISH” Joker No. 1.—The Wittiness and Whimsicali- ties of “‘ Pat’ at His Best. y “VARIETY ” JOKER.—Good Things from all the Na- tionalities: ‘* Pat,” ‘“‘Alphonse,” ‘* Hans,” * Jona than,” ‘* Moses,” and “‘ Ebenezer.” The above books are bound in handsomely illustrated lithographed covers. Price by mail, postpaid, 12 cents per copy. M. J. IVERS & CO., Publishers, 379 Pearl Street, New York City. BEADLE’S BOYS’ 5 CENTS PRICE 1 Dandy Bill’s Doom, By Oll Coomes. = 8 Kit Carson. By A. W. Aiken. 4 Lillie, the Reckless Rider. By Stoddard. 5 Old Grizzly in the Rockies. By Ingraham. 6 Deadwood Dick asa Boy. By E. L. Wheeler. 7 Wild Bill. By Ingraham. 8 The Prairie Ranch. By J. E. Badger. 9 Roving Joe. By A. H. Post. 10 Texas Jack. By Ingraham. 11 Charley Skylark, the Sport. By H. B. Stoddard. 12 Brimstone Bill's Booty, By J. E. Badger, Jr. 13 RoVing Ben. By J. J. Marshall. 14 The Ticket-of-Leave’s Trick. By J. E. Badger, Jr. 315 Wide-Awake George. By E. Willett. 16 Wide-Awake Ned. By B. Ringgold. 17 Peter, the Dandy Greenhorn, By Noah Nuff. 18 Adrift on the Prairie. By Oll Coomes. 19 Joe, the Rover Sport. By A. H. Post. 20 Giant Pete and his Pards. By Harbaugh, 21 Yellow Hair. By Ingraham. 4 22 The Snow-Trail. By Harbaugh. 23 Old Grizzly Adams. By Dr. Powell. 24 Woods and Waters. By Whittaker. 25 A Rolling Stone. By W. R. Eyster. 26 Red River Rovers. By ©. D. Clark. 27 Buckskin Sam's Wild Ride. By Ingraham. 28 The Sword Prince. . By F. Whittaker. 28 Snow-Shoe Tom. By T. C. Harbaugh. 30 Paul De Lacy. By C. D. Clark. 31 Round the Camp-Fire. By J. E. Badger, Jr. 82 Fancy Frank's Drop. By Ingraham. 33 The Boy Crusader. By Capt. F. Whittaker. LIBRARY. PER COPY. 34 The Chase of the Great White Stag. By C. D. Clark, 85 Old Tar Knuckle. By Rover Starbuck. 36 The Dashing Dragoon, By F. Whittaker. 87 Night-Hawk George. By Ingraham. 88 The Boy Exiles of Siberia. By T. C, Harbaugh. 89 The Young Bear Hunters. By Morris Redwing. 40 New York Bill, the Dodger. By Edward Willett 41 The Settler's Son. By Edward §. Ellis. 42 Walt Ferguson’s Cruise. By C. D. Clart, 43 Rifle and Revolver. By F. Whittaker. 44 The Lost Boy Whalers. By ‘Tl. C. Harbaugk. 45 Bronco Billy. By Ingraham. 46 Dick, the Stowaway. By Charles Morris. 47 The Colorado Boys. By J. E. Badger, Jr. 48 The Pampas Hunters, By T. C. Harbaugh, * 49 Nebraska Charlie. By Ingraham. 50 Jack, Harry, and Tom. By F. Whittaker. 51 Tom Stone, the Old Sea Dog. By C. D. Clark. 52 The Boy Detectives. By T. C. Harbaugh. 58 Harry, the Country Boy, in New York. By Charles Morris. 54 California Joe. By Ingraham. 55 Tip Tressel, the Flatboat Boy. By Edward Willett, 56 The Snow Hunters. By Harry De Forrest. 57 Harry Somers, the Magician. Ky 8. W. Pearce. 58 Captain Jack in Rocky Roost. By Ingraham, 59 Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. By Charles Morris, 60 The Young Trail Hunters. By T. C. Harbaugh. 61 The Tiger Hunters. By J. E. Badger, Jr. 62 Doctor Carver, the Champion Shot. By Ingraham, 63 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wrecker. By Roger Starbuck. 64 Young Dick Talbot. By A W. Aiken.

Page 36

THE Deadwood Dick e Library « « LATEST AND BEST, HANDSOME TRI-GOLORED COVERS. 82 Pages. Issued Every Wednesday. Price 5 Cents. Buy One and You Will Buy the Rest} axtracts trom the New York Evening Sun. TWO REMARKABLE HEROES, in only one sense of the word can it be regarded asa imovel statement when the fact is here recorded that litera- (jure has given many heroes to the world, and perhaps more than one reader wili:have to think a moment over this remark before the subtle delicacy of its genial wit strikes home, But it is most essentially a half dime novel statement ‘hat will be news to many when it is added that litera- ture, if traced from the dimly distant days when Adam was a mere child down to the present day, would show ‘sut few heroes that In the eyes of boyhood would be ven judged worthy of comparison with the two greatest beroes known to American literature, or, to promptly re- vagal them, Deadwood Dick and Deadwood Dick, Jr. * * * The modern heroes of fiction for young America, who are now as countless as the sands of the sea, and of whom the Deadwood Dicks are much the most important * * * it is but natural that their * * * should bear ‘way the palm of popularity, and suchas * * * be left flar behind in the race. It ean be easily believed, therefore, that the two Dicks . 80 firmly engrafted on the tree of popular literature boys and young men, that their position is assured ” * and that they stand to-day head and shoulders above all rivals in the eyes of the public for which the) have lived, and for which one.of them has died. American boyhood, and that is a tremendous factor im the land, now knows Deadwood Dick, Jr., a good beak bet ter than it knows its catechism, and millions of young ‘minds absorb the thrilling incidents of his career in his everlasting warfare against crime and his never-ending solving of impenetrable mysteries. Millions of boys follow his stealthy footsteps as he tracke his vicious victims to their undoing, and then, when the victims are thoroughly undone, the millions walt hungrily for the next volume, which on every Wednesday appears with the certainty of the Wednesday itself, and a new set oF Sellgnten thrills go thrilling away from Maine to Cali. ‘ornia, There are the volumes each so crowded with thrills and heart-tugs that it were madness to hope to do justice te them collectively and rank injustice to discriminate be- tween them, To abandon the idea of giving a few extracts causes in- finite pain, but if once a start were made in that diree- tion, it would be cruel to The Evening Sun’s readers to stop, and it is therefore better not to relate one single adventure. Suffice it to say that the stories are clean awd well written. DEADWOOD DICK LIBRARY. Beadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road 3 The Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick’s Defiance % The Buffalo Demon; or. The Border Vultures Buffalo Ben, Prince of the Pistol Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval @ Death-Face, the Detective . 7 The Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza 8 Old Avalanche, the Gréat Annihilator; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian Omaha Oll, the Masked Terror; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger wi #3 a Jr.,the Boy Phenix; or, Through to eat! ” me a Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood ar Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team Gold Rifle, the Sash age % Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane 18 Corduroy Charlie, the Boy Bravo Te st oe Rob; or, Nugget Ned, the Knight of the Gulch 18 Idyl, the Girl Miner; er, Rosebud Rob on Hand 19 Photograph Phil: or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance 30 Watch-Eye, the Shadow ¥1 Deadwood Dick’s Device; or, The Sign of the Double Cross #2 Canada Chet, the Counterfeiter Chief %8 Deadwood Dick in Leadville; or, A Strange Stroke for Liberty % Deadwood Dick as Detective 25 Gilt-Kdge Dick #6 Bonanza Bill, the Man-Tracker; or, The Secret Twelve 37 Chip, the Girl Sport %8 Jack Hoyle’s Lead; or, The Road to Fortune ‘9 Boss Bob, the King of Bootblacks 30 ger ai Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s WC. #1 Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base 8 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent 33 Tony Fox, the Ferret; or, Boss Bob’s Boss Jee 34 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike 85 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood; or, The Picked Pawty 36 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective 87 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Scamps of the Sierras 88 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo 89 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last Adventure 40 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivals of the Road 41 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hills Jezebel 42 The Arab Detective; or, Snoozer, the Boy Sharp 43 The Ventriloquist Detective. A Romance of Roguee 44 apie) Josh Grim; or, The Young Gladiator’s ame 45 The Frontier Detective; or, Sierra Sam’s Scheme 46 The Jimtown Sport; or, Gypsy Jack in Colorade 47 The Miner Sport; or, Sugar-Coated Sam's Claina 48 Dick Drew, the Miner’s Son; or, Apollo Bill, the Road-Agent : 49 Sierra Sam, the Detective 50 Sierra Sam’s Double; or, The Three Female Detect ives 51 pet Saye Sentence; or, Little Luck at Rough anc 52 The Girl Sport; or, Jumbo Joe’s Disguise 53 Denver Doll’s Device; or, The Detective Queen 54 Denver Doll as Detective 55 Denver Doll's Partner; or, Big Buckskin the Sport 56 Denver Doll’s Mine; or, Little Bill’s Big Loss 57 Deadwood Dick Trapped 58 Buck Hawk, Detective; or, The Messenger Boy's Fortune 59 Deadwood Dick’s Disguise; or, Wild Walt, the Sport 60 Dumb Dick's Pard: or, Eliza Jane, the Gold Miner 61 Deadwood 1) «k's Mission 62 Spotter Fritz: or, The Store-Detective’s Deco: 63 ae biases Road-Agent; or, The Miners of Sassa- ras City 64 Dalorees Charlie’s Detective Dash; or, The Cattle ings M. J. IVERS & CO., Pubiishers (James Sullivan, Proprietor), 8¢9 Pearl “treet, NEW YORK.

Page 37

Jopyright 1881-1886, by Beadle & Adams, Entered at Post Office, New York, N. Y., as second class matter. Mar, 15, 1899 . ; THE ARTHUR WESTBROOK CO No. 38 Cleveland One Vol. TEI Ly, Ne re SS WITHOUT MUCH APPARENT EFFORT, WILD FRANK PITCHED WILD HIM INTO THE POOL, BEAD-FIRST, N TH

Page 38

Page 39

ce, New York, N. Y., as second class matter. Mar. 15, 1899 Jopyvight 1881-1886, by Beadle & ,uams. Entered at Post Offi ea: THE ARTHUR WESTBROOK CO, rT No. 38 Cleveland, Ohio ore 1 Vol. IT HEAD FREE, = —— Ses = : WITHOUT MUCH APPARENT EFFORT, WILD FRANK PITCHED HIM INTO THE POOL, BIS HEELS BRANDISHING WILDLY IN THE AIR,

Page 40

BEADLE’S FRONTIER SERIES {5e. Per Copy. The Shawnee’s Foe. Wild Jim. Hawk-Eye, the Hunter, The Boy Guide. War Tiger of the Modocs . The Red Modocs. s! Iron Hand. * 9. Shadow Bill, the Scout. Wapawkaneta, or the Rangers of the Oneida. | Davy Crockett’s Boy Hunter, mo The Forest Avenger. ‘ » Old Jack’s Frontier Cabin. . On. the Deep. . Sharp Snout. . Khe Mountain Demon. Wild Tom of Wyoming. . The Brave Boy Hunters of Kentucky. . The Fearless Ranger, The Haunted Trapper. . Madman of the Colorado. . The Panther Demon. . Slashaway, the Fearless. Pine Tree Jack. . Indian Jim. Navajo Nick. 7. The Tuscarora’s Vow. - Deadwood Dick, Jr. A New York Boy Among the .Indians, Deadwood Dick’s Big Deal. . Hank, the Guide. . Deadwood Dick’s Dozen. . Squatty Dick. - The Hunter’s Secret. . The Woman Trapper. . The Chief of the Miami. . Gunyowder Jim. . Mad Anthony’s Captain. . The Ranger Boy’s Career. . Old Nick of the Swamp. . The Shadow Scout. . Lantern-Jawed Bob. . he Masked Hunter. . Brimstone Jake. . The Irish Hunter. . Dave Bunker. . The Shawnee Witch. . Big Brave. Spider-Legs. BEADLE’S FRONTIER SERIES are always i “ The Young Mountaineer, 56. “BT. 1,58: Harry Hardskull. - Madman of the Oconto, 2. Slim Jim. } . Tiger-Eye. - The Red Star of the | Seminoles. . Trapper Joe. The Indian giaee Revenge. { Eagle-Eyed Zeke. Sear-Cheek, the Wild Half-Breed. Red Men of the Woods, Tuscaloosa Sam. - The Bully of the Woods. The Trapper’s Bride. Red Rattlesnake, The Pawnee. The Scout of Tippecanoe . Old Kit, The Scout. . The Boy Scouts. . Hiding Tom. . Roving Dick, Hunter, . Hickory Jack. . Mad Mike. Snake-Eye. Big-Hearted Joe. - The Blazing Arrow. . The Hunter Seouts. . The Seout of Long Island. . Turkey-Foot. The Death Rangers. . Bullet Head. 9. The Indian Spirit. . The Twin Trappers. Lightfoot the Scout. Grim_ Dick. . The Weoden-Legred Spy. The Silent Trapper. Uegly Ike. Fire Cloud. Hank Jasper. The Scout of the Sciota, . Black Samson. . Billy Bowlegs. The Bloody Footprint. . Marksman the Hunter. . The Demon Cruiser. . Hunters and Redskins. . Panther Jack. . Old Zeke. . The Panther Paleface. . The Scout of the St. ei wmencet 99° 100, Bloody Brook, Long Bob of Kentucky, / in print and for | sale by all Newsdealers; or will re sent postpaid to any address: Single copies, {5c. ARTHUR WESTBROOK CO. CLEVELAND, OHIO

Page 41

Page 42

Deadwood Dick e Library e LATEST AND BEST. HANDSOME TRI-GOLORED COVERS. 82 Pages. Bay One and You Will Buy the Rest! Fer Sample Cover See Other Bide. DEADWOOD DICK LIBRARY. a Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road The Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick’s Deflance The Buffalo Demon; or, The Border Vultures Buffalo Ben, Prince of the Pistol Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval Death-Face, the Detective The Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza Old Avalanche, the Great Annihilator; or, Wild _ Edna, the Girl Brigand Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian Omaha Oli, the Masked Terror; or, Deadwood Dick _ in Danger Jim Bludgoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix; or, Through to _ Dea pee wood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood ar Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Teatn Gold Rifle, the pliaupsicoler Deadwood Dick on Deck: or, Calamity Jane Corduroy Charlie, the Boy Bravo pose ne Rob; or, Nugget Ned, the Knight of the . {ic [dyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand Photograph Phil: or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance atch-Eye, the Shadow So ssbet Dick's Device; or, The Sign of the Double ross ‘anada Chet, the Counterfeiter Qhief eadwood Dick in Leadville; or, A Strange Stroke for Liberty eadwood Dick as Detective ilt-Kdged Dick onanza Bill, the Man-Tracker ; or, The Secret Twelve hip, the Girl Sport : ack Hoyle’s Lead; or, The Road to Fortune ‘oss Bob, the King of Bootblacks eadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s Gulch londe Bill; or. Deadwood Dick’s Home Base olid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent 83 Tony Fox, the Ferret; or, Boss Bob's Boss Job 34 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick's Big Strike 85 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood; or, The Picked Parts 86 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective 87 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Scamps of the Sierras 88 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo 89 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane's Last Adventure 40 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivals of the Road 41 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hills Jezebei 42 ‘The Arab Detective; or, Snoozer, the Boy Sharp 43 The Ventriloquist Detective. A Romance of Rogues 44 Dee Josh Grim; or, The Young Gladiator's ame 45 The Frontier Detective; or, Sierra Sam’s Scheme 46 The Jimtown Sport; or, Gypsy Jac« in Colorado 47 The Miner Sport; or, Sugar-Coated Sam's Claim 48 Dick Drew, the Miner’s Son; or, Apollo Bill, the Road-Agent 49 Sierra Sam, the Detective 50 Sierra Sam’s Double; or, The Three Female Detect ives 51 eae ote Sentence; or, Little Luck at Rough anc 52 The Girl Sport; or, Jumbo Joe’s Disguise 53 Denver Doll’s Device; or, ‘The Detective Queen 54 Denver Doll as Detective 55 Denver Doll’s Partner; or, Big Ruckskin the Sport 56 Denver Doll’s Mine; or, Little Bill’s Big Loss 57 Deadwood Dick Trapped 58 Buck Hawk, Detective; or, The Messenger Boy’s Fortune 59 Deadwood Dick’s Disguise; or, Wild Walt, the Sport 60 Dumb Dick’s Pard; or, Eliza Jane, the Gold Miner 61 Deadwood Dick’s Mission 62 Spotter Fritz: or, The Store-Detective’s Decoy 63 The Detective Road-Agent; or, The Miners of Sassa fras City 64 Coe Charlie’s Detective Dash; or, The Cattle ings