Five Cent Wide Awake Library (vol. 2) (1892 09 10)
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Entered at the Post Ofice at New York N.Y¥,, as -econd Class Mutter, No. 1138. | comeLerer,} | FRANK TOUSEY. AUSSI, 34 & 36 NorTH MooreE Street, N. Y, {scunes.} Vol. TI. : New Youk, Sept. 10, IssuED WEEKLY. Entered according ta the Act of Congress, in the year 1892, by FRANK TOUSEY, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at ein Ac sel ret eo ae D.C _ GREEN MOUN TAIN IN JOE, ye The Old Trapper of Malbro Pond. Bys LIEU. He KELEOGG, SS SS fe : Aeterna ge poh peryntetinate teva 9 ete Vici ceemery Dnt itn uate moon emer piel e Ss ——— =) we LD . te q ¥ SNES SET BORE IN SCR AE La Le TRY: VROAD ER ar aE OW Woks MON. NA AY pe a NOEL On reaching the door Joe placed his foot against it, bnt it was fastened inside. ‘* Hallo, neighbors,” said be, in 7 a Lone: voice, as he shook the door viplently: ** What do you want?” came the replyrtrom within. 5 2
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GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. | The Subscription Price of the Five Cent WIDE AWAKE LIBRARY by the year is $2.50: $1.25 per six months, post-paid. Address } FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and: 36 North Moore Street, New York. Box 2730. -. The Old Trapper of Malbro Pond. = By LIEUT. E. H. KELLOGG, Author of ‘Billy Button, the Young Clown and Bareback Rider,” ‘‘The Weird House of White Cliff,” ete. ; CHAPTER I. JOE WILLIS AND THE PANTHER. > “*YA-R-L, ya-rl, yeow!” ' A shrill, uncanny, almost unearthly cry rang outs sharp and clear, on the brisk morn- ing air. _ “Painter, by ginger!” exclaimed an old trapper, who had just arisen from his bed of pine brush on the side of the Green Mount- ains, Vermont, facing the eastern slope. , “I wonder whar on earth ,the pesky var- ‘mintis? His skin’ll come in yalurable, and poate: twenty-five dollars bounty on his , “Ya-r-l, ya-rl, yeow!” } And again the shrill, startling notes rang out on the still morning air more percingly than before. = . The hunter grasped his smooth-bore, ram- ming home a charge of buck and ball, and looking keenly around, saw the vicious brute creeping s thily out on the branch of a neighboring tree. | He was a magnificent specimen of his kind, and the trapper whispered soto voce as he be- ~held him: “Dorg my cats if he mite eae et eight feet from his ears to ther tip of his tail, pecoy res are ne blinder’n a mole outen this hill!” and li and is piece he took deliber- ‘ate aim between the two glaring eyes that flashed like fire from the panther’s tawny fenGol a teful 1 Sak urn yer, ye spiteful cuss, you near! eapent me aa Dor: this time, aad no ales e. Then pulling trigger, he blazed away. Flash a y Bang! “ Yarl!” A piercing yell of pain told that the shot ad taken effect, and at the same instant a fierce oath proclaimed that something unex- | pected had occurred to the hnnter. _ So there had. _ Just as he pressed his left foot forward to take aim it pubes suddenly upon some mossy substance beneath him and precipi- : him into the bed of a narrow trout- ‘stream, which, heightened by the recent ‘rains, was dashing and tearing madly down the mountain side at his very feet. _ Asa matter of course the sudden lurch ; caused the mouth of the rifle to veer up, as this feet went from beneath him, causing the ‘ball to fly wide of the mark, but two of the _ buck-shot hit the panther in the ear and fore- ‘shoulder, causing the fierce cry of rage and ‘pain that followed the shot. _ In an instant, as the reverberation of the rifle came rattling back from the rocky, pine- ‘capped mountain side, the baying of two fox- hounds was heard, as two magnificent speci- mens of the breed sprang erect from the pine bed upon which the hunterhad been sleepin _ when aroused by the cry of the panther an hastened hither and thither in search of their master. . “Hyer, durn yer, hyer!” shouted he from ‘the spot in the trout-brooxk, where he had fallen and lodged nearly up to his neck be- ‘tween two rocks which held him fast; “lend = @ hand or I'll be drowned, strangled, or sucked to death by that blasted painter!” » The appeal seemed to have instantaneous effect oreo the sagacious brutes, for they hastened to the hunter at once, and bayin their satisfaction, commenced hauling an pulling at his clothing vigorously with their teeth, and endeavoring to extricate him from his perilous position. *'That’s eH a boys!” shouted he, as a final effort produced the desired effect; ‘‘and now for another shot at the pesky critter to make up for lost time!” But saying and doing were two quite dif- ferent matters, for as he reached the side of the stream, shaking his garments free from the dripping water, and stooped to recover the rifle that had dropped from his grasp while falling, the panther made a lithe spring from the branch of the tree, uttering another howl of rage. The hunter saw that it would be useless to attempt to load again, for the frantic beast would be upon him done: before he could do so; he accordingly drew his bowie-knife, and grasping it firmly in his right hand, set his teeth determinedly, and stooping~ forward with his left leg advanced, the other bent a little back, with muscles tense as iron, his left arm thrown across his chest to protect it from the sharp teeth and claws, he steadily awaited the attack of the ferocious assailant. Meanwhile, as the panther struck the earth at a slight distance from the hunter, one of the dogs gave vent to a savage bay, and apa directly at him, making a snap for the shoulder, but with a quick stroke of the left w the panther set the needle-like claws eep in the dog's nose, drawing a spurt of red blood as the dog retreated with a yell of pain. The other leaped to his companion’s sup- rt almost as quickly, but meeting the at- k in much the same manner; the panther also caused him to retreat hors-du-combat, and then ater A rampant, with his eyes ablaze and his tail lashing the air, he bounded forward with a lithe spring. But the momentary respite had afforded the hunter full chance to prepare himself for the attack, and as the panther came whirring through the air with a hissing sound, he dar nimbly aside and delivered a quick stroke at the flying monster with his knife. The blow told home with telling effect, slic- ing a deep gash in» the bristling side, and ain as the blood spurted from the wound the.maddened beast uttered a yell of pain. But it had scarcely struck the ground a second time before it wheeled round and epeaiiee frantically at the hunter, who had turned as quickly to face it. Again the swishing knife cleft the air cut- ting a nasty gash in the animal’s throat, drawing another spurt of blood; but as if re- ardless of its pain, the now thoroughly in- uriated animal retaliated with a savage stroke of its huge paw, which literally tore the buckskin hunting shirt from the hunter’s breast, laying it bare, with the tracks of the cruel claws deeply imbedded therein in gore. And then, before the wounded man_ had time to recover from the terrible effect of the blow, the panther buried its fangs deeply in its throat, and began sapping his life’s blood as it tore violently away right and left at the unprotected limbs wit th its fore and hind claws, = i was indeed a desperate and thrilling sit- uation. The trapper was long past the age of forty, if he had not entered the fifties; and as he battled vigorously away for dear life, he felt that his strength was deserting him rapidly with every, minute’s duration of the conflict. But he fought bravely on with desperate determination to win the battle or die like aman, calling stoutly the while to the dogs to come to his aid. *““Come, ye infernal, sneaking skulks,” roared he till he was black in the face, ** don’t stand there rR: and yawpin’, but take a hand in, or if I ever get outen this tussel alive I'll make it so hot that you can’t stand a hair of your hides, I will, by Ginger!” And meantime the old man kept on hack- ing and cutting, slashing and stabbing at the Peathers who was hugging and clawing the ife out of him, until the coveted pelt was one mass of cuts and stabs that threatened utter ruin to his intrinsic value. : As if perfectly comprehending the import of their master’s threat both hounds instant- ly responded to the call, and with fierce bays came bounding to his assistance, attacking the panther in the rear. is reinforcement completely changed the aspect of affairs, for experiencing the com- bined attack the panther was obliged to turn his attention in that direction, thus af- sons the hunter a better chance to defend imself. = Taking advan of the situation the old man cut and slashed away more vigorously than ever; whereas, before he had simply been able, owing to the tenacious grip, to plunge his knife here and there on the pan- ther’s back, where chance afforded he could now make the breast, as the animal was ob- liged to withdraw his hold to protect himself. hus, as the head reared back and the claws partially released themselves, he dart- ed a swift stroke at the white, upturned breast, and as the blade told home up to the very hilt he could feel the life blood gushing in hot torrents over his hand as the talons parted with a spasmodic jerk and the panther dropped to the earth, tearing it wildly up in its dying throes, CHAPTER II. - GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE'S DISCOVERY. “By Ginger, that was a mighty tough tus- tle,” said the trapper, as the panther gave its last kick and lay dead before him; “it e’en- most tuckered me out! Blame my skin, ef I eyer had such a rough tug of it afore!” Then turning, he knelt down by the dead panties and commenced measuring it from ead to foot. ‘* Just as I calculated,” said he, rising and reloading his rifle with a charge of shot, “‘ex- eight foot, and not a hair to spare.” ome hyer!” c The last words to his dogs, which were sneaking away into the bushes, and raising his piece, he poured the contents into the sides of the shivering animals. A low whine was the simple response, as the hounds returned and crouched trembling at his feet, licking his moccasins and mani- “ festingthe most abject terror. = “Tl teach ye, yer misesrable skunks, ter GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE,
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Li GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. leave yer old master in the lurch when he needs yer the most; what do yer mean?” The hounds crawled and fawned at his feet, whining most piteously. “Thar, that'll do,” said the trapper, kicking them as they slunk away again, and jay down ata slight distance, ‘‘that’ll do, but see that yer don’t attempt it again, or ee yer ears close ter yer skulls, ‘deed I will!” And kneeling down, he fell to skinning the dead panther as though nothing unusual had occurred, When he had completed the operation, which took him barely ten minutes, for he was an adept at the business, he spread the pelt skin out upon an adjacent rock, and turned toward the’ fire which was smolder- ing near his last night’s couch. ““T calculate I'll have somethin’ ter eat now,” said he, “for I’m ’mazin’ hungry after this mornin’s bout. It’s a mighty appetizer, is a brisk wrestle with a painter afore breakfast. Hallo, just the thing!” é And turning, he took a fat jack-rabbit from a trap that he had set the previous night. Ekinning this also, he tossed the skin up- on that of the panther, and spitting the car- cass upon a long hickory ae | planted the latter in the earth over the hot bed of coals. “* Now, then,” continued he, turning away, “ter see what if was that caused me ter slip inter ther brook; blame the cussed luck!” And moving on, he proceeded in the direc- tion of the rushing stream. = Kneeling down by the edge, he inspected the bank with the utmost care. : “This is ther spot,” said he, pulling up a bed of moss, ‘‘but blame my skin, what’s this? Silver!” : His eyes grew as big as half dollars at the discovery he had made. ; Before him, where he knelt, directly be- neath the bed of moss, which had given way beneath his feet when he fired at the panther, and precipitated him into the trout brook, was plainly discernible a white metallic sub- stance that shone like silver in the light of the rising sun that was just gilding the moun- tain side. : ““By Ginger!” gasped the trapper, rubbing his eyes in the intensity of his amazement, «am I dreaming, or have I waked up at all?” “Ho! there! Ho! Joe Willis; I say. Ho there!” ; The old trapper jumped up as if he had been shot. % “That's me,” whispered he, as if somewhat alarmed at the cry, “that’s me—who’s that calling Joe Willis so early in the mornin’— hey ? And before he shouted the reply the old man had covered up the discovered ore with such rare skill that it would have taken an experienced Prue Pee we to have discovered the spot aft all. **Ts that you, Joe?” The voice came from a little way down the mountain side, “Yes!” A few moments passed, and then a youth- ful figure was seen clambering leisurely up the rugged cattle path toward the spot where the old trapper was standing near the fire, to which he had returned, after making the singular discovery. The new-comer was a stout, well-built, manly-looking boy of some seventeen or eighteen years ofage. He was dressed in a rough hunting-suit of buckskin, something similar to that of the old trapper, with un- tanned moccasins to match; and over his shoulders hung along smooth-bore rifle, with hunting-pouch and other implements of sim- ilar character. “‘T thought I'd find you hereabouts, Joe,” said he, with a pleasant smile, ‘“‘and I want- ed to have a day’s hunting with you.” *‘ What made you thinkso, Sammy?” asked the trapper carelessly, as he shook the ex- tended end rather coldly. “Well, I knowed you hung about here, somewhere,” said the boy, “and if I hadn't found you here, I was pretty sure of finding you up to Malbro Pond, I calculate.” _ = Well, yer mought, and then again yer ‘htn't.” aie all, I mightn’t, and then again I might, and depending on the latter I started bright early to look you up.” - and faa tpreakfast yet, Sammy?” asked the trapper, turning over the rabbit, which was pretty well done on one side by this time. self “No; and I’m pesky hun after my tramp, though,” Seplied: the lad, nitting him- own beside the trapper’s couch, “but mother put me up a big lunch last night, so I’m pretty well off for rations. I’ve got lots of apple pie and ginger bread in my pouch, so I'll have a good square meal, bet yer life.” Joe Willis uttered a sniff of disgust. “Only fit for babbies,” said he, sharply. “Ef yer want ter go huntin’ with me, ye'll have to live on solid fodder and no soft stuff; so sf kin put that in yer pipe and smoke it, ‘a Md wagh! “Oh, if that’s yer gait, old man,” retorted the boy, laughing cheerfully at the trapper’s wry face, ‘‘I'm in with yer—see there!” __ And pointing to an opening in the pine brush at aslight distance, he brought his rifle to bear upon it, Sing ete = “J see a prime fat rabbit goin’ in there just now,” continued he, “‘and I bet I fetch him first pop. There he is now, and here goes!” Flash Crack! The bullet flew straight to the mark, and darting into the bush, the boy presently re- appeared with a bleeding rabbit dangling by the ears, which was giving his last kick. - ‘* How's that?” asked he. B= “That was a bully shot, Sammy,” said the trapper, admiringly. ‘“* You'll makea hunter yet if you keep on.” “Bet I will!” replied Sam. “I fetched down a pretty big stake t’other night down to the shanty, and both mother and dad are prouder of me than prize turkeys—bet yer boots they are.” “What was it?’ asked Joe, **T’ll tell you all about it,” said the boy, as he commenced dressing his rabbit and placed it over the fire in a similar manner to that of the hunter. “It was only night before last that father went down to Brattleboro’ to stop over night, and after I'd got everything snugge up for the night, [ went to sleep as usual. It was quite cold, for we had a right smart frost, if you remember,” es. “Well, I don’t know how long I'd been asleep,” continued the boy, “when I was awakened by the durndest noise you ever heard out in the chickenry, and as soon as I was fully awake I started for the door to see what caused the ruction. I hadn’t got half the way when I heard the horses kicking desperately in the stable, and the cows in the barn-yard bellowin’ like mad. * Foe guess you would, Sammy,” “¥eplied the mad myself. And while they sat down to breakfast, the old trapper told young Sam Willis all about his morning’s adventure, but taking good care to ayoid all mention of the discovery of the silver. During the repast, notwithstanding his as- serted repugnance to ‘soft stuff,” as he term- ed it, Green Mountain Joe did rare justice to Mrs. Willis’ excellent apple pie an ginger- bread, and when the meal was ended, but little of the luncheon remained, and then Joe whistled to his dogs, remarking that the first thing in order was to look up his traps, so away they went. en Tramping up the mountain-side, they came to the second trap; that.is, counting the one — from which Joe had taken the jack-rabbit af- ter his encounter with the panther, “This is the fust one, although it comes second,” said J grimly, ashe knelt down by ~ the trap to examine it. “‘The one down yon- der was the last one I sot last night when I turned inter camp; why, dang ny skin, if it hain’t been sprung and sot again!” “How do you know that?” asked Sam, kneeling down to investigate for himself. “1 can’t see anything to indicate it.” “But I kin, Sammy,” said the hunter, with _ a wicked look in his eyes; “yer uncle’s sight — is better’n your’n, notwithstandin’ the dis- crepancy in years 3 it’s been sot again, and Injuns did it, too !” : ** You don’t say?” “T just do, and I bet I know who did it, too; blame his ugly whisky-soaked copper- skin, 1 bet I'll fix him off for it, or my name ain’t Joe Willis.” “* Who was it?” ** Blacksnake Gil.” ‘* What makes you think it was him, pop?” “Why, yer know, he’s a half-breed, don’t yer, and his hair is crinkly as a nigger’s, al- thou, h not so crisp i “* Well, look hyer.” Green Mountain Joe held up a long black hair that was wavy and kinky. ' ““ What do Ee think of that, hey?” “What's t Sam. “Lots; it toto. ains like it, head, and I ives the blacksnake away te- *cept that on the copper devil’s know it. I’ve suspected the ornery cuss afore, but I never could fotch it But ef [don't make home ter him till now. him eat crow, I'll eat one myseif, that’s all. Come along, let’s go look him up, . He arose to his feet, biting his lips till th oe started and his eyes were black as night. : “He's got one of my rabbit skins, and I mean ter have it outer his black hide afore another hour is over my head.” ~ oe ain’t wuth sixpence,” replied the - boy. 2 hat’s the use making a fuss about — it, pe - p 2% ‘*T don’t care if it isn’t wuth a brass fard- — in’, Sammy,” retorted Joe; “‘that don’t make ~ a differ bitterance; it’s ther all-fired mean- ness of ther thing I’m lookin’ at; that’s all.”~ “How do you know that you can find him?” : ** Leave that ter me, Sammy,” replied Joe— “leave that ter me, and see if him See as I perdicted.” asked Sam, persistently. ; ** As easy as wink,” answered Joe. “Some of the furis stickin’ fresh in the snare yet, — see, and just beside it I found the varmint’s — ar. 4 Sam looked down at the snare to which the trapper was pouting was just as he said, and then he started to — follow Joe who was stalking rapidly away. st: << =o ea per, smiling grimly; “‘itnearly droveme ~~ at Rot to do with it?" asked ~ There ain’t a bit of hair in the mount- — don’t find — ut how do you know it was a rabbit?” — and saw thatit % =
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4 Joe walked swiftly down a cow path for nearly a gaatter of a mile, and then est off into the brush made straight on unti they both came out into an open Spee where quite a number of squares of co wood were piled up in various directions. “The cusses are close around here some- Sam to tread ’ares,” whis Joe, warnin can smell ’em. -as cautiously as possible, ‘‘ i pol = he spoke to f pal e€ pointed as he spoke @ spur 0 e blue smoke which was curling shoguiehl ven above one of the piles of logs. * Didn’t I tell you so,” “ Yes,” - : “Well cage on.” Leading the way Joe made directly for the spot, closely followed by Sam, and as they turned the corner of the pile a group of three Indians were revealed. But they were not dressed in Indian cos- tume; on the contrary, they were in hunting suits similar to those of Joe and his companion. They were a dirty, slovenly lot, and their features were of the most villainous descrip- tion, Two of them were lying on the ground beside the fire, which was nearly out; the third, who appeared the most respectable of the group, if such a term could apply to eith- er, was leaning lazily against an adjoining sapling. ‘Say, you fellers,” said Joe, as he came within speaking distance, “I want a word with you.” . The whole party turned at the sound, and the two who were seated leaped hastily to their feet, lying their hands behind them to grasp their hunting knives, ** Hyer, none of that now,” said Joe, s ly but calmly, as he tossed his rifle and knife upon the green moss at his feet; ‘‘none of that; Iam unarmed as youcan plainly see, ss have simply come to ask a square ques- ion.” “But your companion?” asked the Indian -leaning against the tree, with equal gravity. ** Oh, he’s only a boy,” said Joe, and turn- ing to Sam he told him to throw down his A weapons also. c Sam complied, but it was plain from the . look on his face that he considered it an ex- tremely hazardous proceeding. < “Well?” inquired the Indian, who was evi- _ dently the leader. - “Tain’t got nothin’ in you, Mal-a-ka,” replied Joe; “for I believe yer honest, al- though yer are in plaguy bad company just ‘now. It’s Blacksnake Gil I want. What yer done with that rabbit yer snaked from my snare up ther mountain this mornin’ ?” The taller of the two Indians, who had been g lying on the und when Sam and Joe ap- : ~ poet turned an_olive hue, and as his eyes E pped before the piercing gaze of the old _ trapper, commenced backing out toward the = EG of the clearing. _ “Come, none of thas!” shonted Joe, ad- -_ vancing toward him; “you can’t play no “such dodge on me. I’m up ter it. I want that rabbit or ther skin, and I don’t car 3 which, so no shenna n about it!” ez **Hold,” said the Indian whom Joe had ad- . dressed as Mal-a-ka, “we are ae and want no quarrel—if San-ta-na taken any- thing of yours, he will return it. I will ques- tion him.” : Joe paused, while the chief went up to his - comrade, and conversed aside in low tones. _ Presently he returned to Joe’s side. “ He says that he has taken no rabbit,” said he calmly, ‘and knows nothing about it!” -_ * He lies,” retorted Joe; “look at his face; - he has got it in his hunting-pouch at this very _~_ instant And again he started toward the Indian, 2 CHAPTER IV. A SHOT FOR LIFE. - Tue Indian stood his ground d , but it was evident that he was considerably dis- comfi _~ * Come now, give it up like a good man,” : or Joe, approaching hits, “and I'll let yer off. ies abe white hunter lies!” said the Indian, slowly. “You lie yerself, ye black skunk!” retorted Joe, springin forward and dealing him a stinging blow in the face. = - The Indian Btagaeredt back, with the blood spurting from his beret at the same ee. moment Joe darted his hand into the pouch! GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. behind him, and drew forth a still reeking rabbit-skin. “I told yer so,”shouted Joe, dangling the skin in the air. But the Indian made no attempt to resent the indignity. “Yer a cowardl NE and afraid ter take it up reened Joe, “I kin lick yer with one hand in less than a minute, old as I am.” The other Indians said nothing, but did not attempt to assist their comrade. “Come, that’s all I want,” said Joe, con- signing the skin to his own pouch. “I’ve proved my words; ef he wasn’t guilty, he’d take it up like a man, but he darn’t. Now let’s all take a drink and call it squar!” Producing a hunting flask; Joe ded it to the chief, who took astiff dram and passed it to his comrade, but when it came to San-ta- na’s turn, he stubbornly refused to drink; and returning to his weapons, Joe recovere them, as did Sam, and they both walked leis- urely away. The two friends had retraced nearly half their way to the traps, when Joe paused sud- denly, and holding up his hand with a warn- ing Peoctte, seemed erate 2 ‘Do you hear nothing, Sammy?” ae in- ‘*You must be deaf as an adder,” said Joe. “That black skunk’s follerin’ our trail, and means blood. He’s madder’n a hornet in fly time, and would raise my back ha’r quicker’n he’d eat. Icould seeitin his eyes when we started. Didn’t yer notice he wouldn’t drink?” a7 es.” ** Wall, that meant mischief. When a red- skin refuses a treat of whisky, look out for ie Can’t ye hear nothin’?” “ fo) » “Wall, I kin—I kin hear the pat, pat, pat- ter of his feet as he’s comin’ on as plain as I kin hear the beatin’ of my heart, and we must look out for him or he'll settle our hash.” ‘*What’re you going to do about it, pop?” asked Sam, who was becoming alarmed. **Don’t get scared, Sammy,” said Joe, calm- ly. “I'll give the skunk a lesson that he won't forget in a hurry, and which’ll teach him not to follow his betters in such a hurry in ther future.” Going to the side of the road, Joe com- menced takin ‘ fox-skin cap, bidding Sam do likewise. When they had done this, Joe drove two forked sticks, that he cut from the bushes, behind a log, and placing the jackets and caps Bpon them, gave them the precise appearance of two persons seated quietly together, with their backs toward the path. : “That'll settle his mutton,” said Joe, chuckling gleefully at his contrivance; “now come along, Sammy, and I’ll show you some of the tallest fun you ever did see.” And stepping cautiously into the bushes ust behind the lay figures, the two friends id themselves securely from view, having first taken care to conceal their footprints by covering them carefully with leaves, “What are you going to do, pop?” asked the boy, anxiously. **Don’t move nor stir, and don’t speak, or you'll give ther whole thing away,” whisper- ed Joe, placing his hands across the boy’s lips, ‘‘ but jest keep close watch and ye'll find it all out in good time.” | And then for ten minutes neither party spoke a word as they crouched in their places of concealment, eagerly watching the dum- mies behind the log. — : At the end of that interval Sam felt Joe’s hand pressing his arm, and, turning, saw his finger pointing toward a clump of cedars on the opposite side of the path. “Look thar,” whispered Joe; ‘‘and see what yer’kin see.” - cS Sam looked in the indicated direction, and presently he saw a long, black object poking its way through the bushes. It was the barrel of a rifle, and the muzzle was pointed directly at the two dummies. The boy held his breath, and his heart al most ceased its beatings. ; For an instant or more the barrel moved unsteadily to and fro, and then a flash of fire | qui followed, as the sharp report of a rifle rang out, sharp and clear, from the bushes. Sam saw the hunter’s hat jog a little, and then all was still “I thought I heard two shots, Joe,” whis- pered Sam, as he turned ghastly pale. off his hunting-jacket and | gri ‘So you did.” ; Sam turned, and saw that Joe was just drawing in his own rifle. It was smoking at the muzzle, The boy’s face presented a picture of amaze- ment and inquiry combined. ‘Great powers !” whispered he, as the cold chills ran up and down his back, ‘‘ what have you done?” “Just what the skunk meant ter do for me,” replied the trapper, nonchalantly. ‘‘ He’s dead as a stone and I’m livelier’n a cricket. Come and see !” And loading as he went, Joe leaped across the road, followed closely by Sam Willis, On reaching the clump of cedars Joe hastily drew aside the bushes, pointing to a pros- trate figure on the ground. It was all that remained of Blacksnake Gil. The form lay with the head toward the road, and as the trapper hauled it from the bushes and turned it over, the cold, glassy eyes looked stonily up toward the sky. The blood was sluggish! oozing from a gaping bullet wound the forehead, and fen buckshot had pierced it in close proxim- ye ““Come away,” groaned the startled boy, “*T’m deathly sick. “Look hyer, now,” hissed the trapper, glar- ing savagely into Sam’s eyes, “‘don’t let either speak a word of this to mortal man. - The cussed sneak richly deserved what he got— he’d killed us both if I hadn’t circumnaver- gated him in time, for that bullet through m cap would have fotched me dead sure, an he'd been down on you quicker'’n chain light- nin’ if I hadn’t wiped him out in turn.” “But what yer going to do with the body?” asked Sam. : ‘Leave the carr’on where it is,” said Joe, spurning it with his foot, as he turned away to resume his clothing. ‘‘he come alone ter do this, but when his pals miss him, they'll know what’s up, and get him out of the way, never fear. I’ve done my part, and let them attend to thar’s, Sam shuddered at the old man’s impertur- babilty, as he put on his own clothes, and with one last look at the dead Indian, follow- ed Joe quickly up the cow path. They had not proceeded more than eighty paces before both heard savage shouts to the rear. “They've found him,” said Joe, with a m smile. ‘I told you they would and that settles it. Hello!” As he uttered the exclamation, Joe paused suddenly, and placed his hand to his ear. ‘‘Blame my skin,” said he, briskly, “‘if the skunks ain’t on our trail again. They mean fight, and we must meet them likemen, Are you afeard?” ““Nary a time,” replied Sam. “Tl stand to you like a brick.” “That's the talk,” said Joe, slapping him stoutly on the back. ‘‘Spoken like a little man, for if we don’t show fight now our lives ain’t worth a moment’s notice.” The next instant both heard the sounds of rapidly Bpproschine. footsteps pattering up the mountain path. CHAPTER V. THE MAN WITH THE PEDDLER’s PACK. “T TOLD you that was them,” said Green Mountain Joe, as he looked carefully to the priming of his rifle. **T don’t believe it is,” replied Sam Willis, payin che same attention to his piece. : y not?” 4 ‘* Because it’s the sounds of jack-boots that I hear,” anwered Sam, ‘“‘and the chaps we see down in the clearing had on moccasins.” Ree a aN and ther pee ‘ongress, iev’ yer ri ammy. seems amazin’ like id and Pins mistake; but we'll find out blame suddent!” The next instant he sprang nimbly into the cedar bushes, bordering the cow-path, fol- lowed closely by his companion. They had scarcely concealed themselves, when three men dressed in red shirts and slouched hats with their pants tucked into the tops of long cowskin boots, came tearin err up the narrow path they had jus' u One of them, the one in advance, had a heavy k, resembling those worn by ped- aleres Tttached ‘chia shoulders, Ae was panting and blowing lustily as the jira- tion in streams down his forehead and cheeks. ~
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/ } turn GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. —5N **The red scamps ll snap us up,” groaned hé, ‘for I can’t go another step. I’m clean tuckered out!” s : z s Try it, pal,” said the man just behind him, “we ain’t only a little furder ter go, and we'll all be safe.” : “*T tell yer I can’t,” replied the other, dog- sedly. F z = j *‘ Well, give me ther pack, then!” roared his companion, tossing his rifle to the earth, “‘an’ do yer level best when it comes ter ther inch!” 2 *T can’t shute nothin’,” replied he of the pack, throwing it on the ground. ‘* Well, then, get shot yerself, blame yer,” retorted the other, picking up the bundle and slinging it over his shoulders by the Ste te “Ugh!” grunted the first speaker, picking up the rifle and turning white asa sheet. ** Thar’s ther bullets an’ other fixins’,” said his pal; “‘and see that yer don’t make a mull} a x “ss ohh slice yer throat for yer pains; see on’t.” Meanwhile, the third man, who appeared much the cooler of the three, had turned, rifle in hand, looking anxiously down the cow- ath, y By this time the patter, patter. of mocca- sined feet was plainly to be heard, and the next moment ten Indians dressed as trappers appeared, turning the edge of a uA of trees some forty or fifty feet down the hill. **Halt where ye are!” shouted the man with the rifle, bringingit to bear upon them ; **halt, or I'll put daylight through ther fust one that moves a step!” The Indians came to a standstill at once aud held a whispered consultation. Meanwhile, the man bearing the pack had hurried on up the cow-path and disappeared. ‘We ain’t looking after you,” said one of the Indians, acting as spokesman; ‘‘ we have no trouble with you; let us pass in peace.” “*T'll see ye hanged fust,” retorted the man, **Stop where ye are until I’m gone ten min- utes, and then I don’t care a durn what ye 0. “Good.” «“<Throw down yer arms.” The Indians complied sullenly, And then warning his companion to watch them sues the men retired backward up the cow-path, until they also disappeared from view. The ten minutes passed in perfect quiet, and then the Indians, who had evidently computed the time by counting, picked up their weapons and started briskly in pursuit, Three minutes more elapsed, and then Joe and Sam crawled cautiously from the bushes. “That was a mighty narrow escape,” said Sam, wiping the perspiration from his face. ‘ Maybe,” responded Joe, who seemed thinking of something else. “T wonder where those other chaps came from,” said Sam, scratching his head. “‘ They look like a hard crowd, and I neversaw them in this region before.” ‘Nor me nuther,” replied the old hunter; “but I’ve got a bone ter pick with ’em all the Same, and I’m going ter hunt ‘em up.” ** Why, do you know ’em?” “I should smile,” replied Joe, with his face | turning as black as night. ** But how are ye goin’ ter find ’em ?” *“Come and see,” answered Joe, stepping into the path, and stooping down, he went slowly up the mountain, regarding every inch of the way with the keenest scrutiny. “Hyer we are,” said he, at length, as he arose from his stooping posture, “and I’m peak lad of it, for my back’s near broken m this investergation.” “Here we are where?” asked Sam, aoe curiously around to discover what the ol trap r meant. : : That's ther trail,” said Green Mountain Joe, pointing to a spot in the rocky path. “The Indians?” asked Sam, examining in He saw that a portion of the crumbling rock had given way, as if some party had trod upon it, and looked up inquiringly into Joe’s Ce SSNO;= apes the hunter. ‘‘Can’t ye see Se Why, blame yer inderlent peepers!” snort- ed Joe, it’s as plain as the nose on yer face. Sp a aie am did so. Joe stooped down and pointed to the abra- sion. ‘** That’s the toe and heel of the fellow car- rying the pack,” said he. ‘* He slipped thar.” And then he covered up the track with some of.the broken stone. ‘*Ye see,” continued he, calmly, gnawing off a huge chew of nigger-head tobacco, ‘‘ that chap. ain’t used to carryin’ sich a blasted load as that’ar pack, and he came nigh tumblin’ down hyer owin’ ter his clumsiness. And look hyer, too! These are ther tracks of his pals. That’s ther one of ther white-livered cur that funked-so over that - I wish ther pesky skunk'd blow his bloody brains out ’ith it—I do, by ginger!” _ “Ye seem ter have it in for him putty Say old man,” replied Sam. ‘Bet yer dear life, Sammy,” answered Joe; ‘and so ’ud you, too, if ye’d had all the deal- in’s I have with this pesky brute. He’s just pisen, he is, and no mistake.” Sam made no reply, as the old hunter rose ain. a But I can’t stop ter tell yer no more about it now, Sammy,” continued he, “for we must track these scamps ter their lair afore the red-skins find that they’ve missed our trail and come back hot-footed in search of us, for they'll do it, sure as fate.” Stooping down, he scattered the shattered stones in various directions, and then arose again. : “That'll put ’em all askew,” said he, smil- ing penny, “They may strike a few of our tracks, but they'll never find whar we left the roac. Thar they come now! Dig inter ther bushes and hide for dear life. Id like ter give ther cusses a passin’ shot, but it won't do now—it won't do now.” And darting into the brush, the two friends hid themselves securely. The next instant the Indians came back down the path, examining every portion with the utmost scrutiny, but utterly failing to discover the hiding-place of the fugitives. CHAPTER VI. GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE'S JEOPARDY. As soon as the Indians had passed the spot where Joe and. his boy companion were hid- den, the old man crept from the bush again. ‘*That’s all right so fur,” said he; ** now come along again, and see what we can find.” Proceeding cautiously onward he contin- ued his examination of the rocky ground beneath him. : “Hyer ye are again,” said he, pointing to a portion of. the rock wherea heap of sand had gathered. ‘‘ Ye can see that, can’t yer?” “Yes,” replied Sam, that’s a boot track, sure enough,” **T told yer so, that’s ther way I meant ter track ’em.” “You're always right, old man.” ‘It’s a cold day when I'm left.” Then they went on again: In this manner they proceeded for half a mile or more. Here the mountains assumed a rougher and more rugged aspect. - : The towering pines reared up with their spreading branches swayingin the wind, pre- senting a rudely romantic picture that charmed and inspired the heart of the young hunter, “This would be a fine spot for bars,” said he, looking keenly around. : “Yer bet,” retorted Joe, ‘‘ but we're lookin’ arter wuss game than that, yonder!” _ Sam turned and regarded him inquiringly. ‘What d’ye mean?’ asked he. “Smugglers!” said Joe, curtly. Sam whistled. . ) “That's just ther ticket.” ; “Were them smugglers that we see just now?” : “Certain, but come along and don’t ax too many questions.” 4 z Sam followed without further inquiry. Presently they came out into a small clear- ing‘among the pines. n the center stood a low log cabin of rude construction. i “That's ther spot,” whispered Joe, point- ing toward it, ‘“butI never see it occupied afore.” “*T never see it afore,” replied Sam. ‘I never was so far up in the mountains afore.” ‘Tt ain’t a nice place ter be inter alone,” said Joe, “for thar’s b’ars, cataments, paint- ers, and wolves hyer, not ter speak of snakes in entre : eS. ust then alow hiss struck their ears, and turning toward the sound Sam saw a large rattlesnake coiled up to spring. : Darting aside he drew up his rifle to fire. “Stop!” hissed Joe, as the reptile made the spring. ‘‘I don’t want ter let the skunks know I'm hyer until I surprise ’em.” In an instant he drew up his rifle, and brought the barrel down with a thud upon the serpent’s head. The skull crunched beneath the blow, but the venomous thing writhed and squirmed desperately as it darted forth its poisonous tongue in the most vindictive manner. But another blow broke the backbone, and the snake lay writhing in the agonies of death. “That would have been a bad dose for you, Sammy !” said Joe. Sam laughed. ; “Tain’t afeard, pop,” replied he, as he drew his hunting-knife and whipped off the rattles, ~ consigning them to his chunting-pouch. “That's a prize ; fourteen rattlers ain’t found every day. “That's so, but don’t stop ; come alone Sam obeyed, following Joe toward the cabin. On reaching the door Joe placed his foot against it, but it was fastened inside. ** Hallo, neighbors said he, in aloud voice, as he shook the door violently. ‘* What do you want?” came the reply from within. The voice was that of the man who had been carrying the pack. “*T want to see Nat Gleason,” replied Joe, Sey: : _A whispered conversation was heard in- side, and then some one came to the door, and drawing back a bar opened it slightly, looking out through the crack. Joe motioned Sam to follow, and placing his burly shoulder against the door, pushed it in with a bang. The man who held it staggered back, and fell prostrate to the floor as the two hunters strede quickly into the cabin. : They found themselves in a low-ceilinged apartment, with rafters overhead, and a fire- place at oneend. 2 There was no furniture in the room -with the exception of a deal table and three rustic stools of home-made manufacture, but spread upon the fluor in one corner was a bed of leaves covered with a pile of y blankets. In the center of the room, in front of the — fire-place, in which a pine knot fire was blaz- — ing up beneath a steaming pot suspended | from the crane, lay the peddler’s pack, which had evidently been recently opened. = A number of dress goods patterns of various descriptions were spread around, together with silks, ribbons, handkerchiefs, scarfs, hosiery, gloves, toilet articles, jewelry, etc., that would strike the female eye; while nu- merous knives, pistols, fancy pipes, watches, — chain guards, seals, playing cards and other articles were also there to attract the atten- tion of the sterner sex. = But Green Mountain Joe paid little heed to the rich supply of goods as he strode sternly to the center of the room. ‘* Whar’s Nat Gleason, Saul Slingshy?” said he, fly, seizing up the man who was ris- ing from the floor where he had been hurled by the suddden opening of the door. ‘Speak quick, or I'll choke the liver outer ye!” { Then transferring both hands to the neck of the trembling wretch, he looked sharply around the room as he tightened his grasp on his throat. “*J—d-o-n’-t—know!” gasped the half stran- gled man. . ““That lie sticks in yer throat, ye blamed hypercritical skunk!” roared the irate trap- per; “‘and I’vea pesky good mind ter makeit ther last one ye ever reathe!” **Oh, d-o-n’-t—for the the love of H-e-a-v- e-n—I'll tell yer all!” ore Joe had let up a bit as the last words part- ed the Secure lips, and at the same instant his eyes lit on the blankets. 3 Was that not a movement? Yes. The blankets stirred. fae He saw that there was some living object beneath them. . : Z - In a second he was striding toward them. Then came a smothered report, followed by — a puff of smoke, and a bullet hissed unpleas- antly close to Green Mountain Joe’s ear. But he never budged an inch as he strode onward, drawing his long, gleaming knife, — In another instant he was kneeling on the |
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“Well, whatdo you want?” demanded he, ; blankets with one hand on a writhing object, ‘ while that containing the knife cut a slice down the covering, exposing the form ofa man. For a moment the old trapper knelt there, looking steraly into the upturned eyes with a glance of demoniacal fury. “What's ter pervent me cuttin’ ther black heart outen yer, Nat Gleason?” hissed Joe, as his huge breast rose and fell from the violence of his passion. : don’t know,” replied the man, who was *'the one who had carried the pack after the trembling wretch in the center of the floor had dropped it on the mountain path; ‘‘ but I don’t believe you will!” “* Why not?” ** Because, if you do, you'll never see her again.” “Ha!” gasped Joe, losing his hold, and grasping wil y at his heart. **You needn’t take it so harsh, Joe,” said the man, ‘I*on’t mean you any harm, if - ‘you'll only leave me alone.” “Gol blame yer skin,” shouted Joe, “* what did ye mean by firin’ at me, then?” “It was a mistake; the pistol went off by accident, man.” **T believe ye lie!” The man’s eyes lit up with a malignant fire, but he knew too much to expose himself in the presence of the gleaming knives, so he held his tongue. —**Get up!” shouted Joe, rising to his feet, **T want ter speak with yer.” Nat Gleason made no reply.as he attempted to obey, but while doing so made a quick mo- tion to his companions, The next moment two rifles were leveled at the back of the old hunter. CHAPTER} VII. THE SMUGGLER’S OATH. Ir was a moment erexeye with deadly peril to Joe, who stood wholly unconscious of his anger. But Sam Willis sprang to his aid, striking up the rifles of the smugglers with his own as the bullets whistled harmlessly through the ceiling. “Cuss ye, ye miserable whelps!” shouted he, dealing a stout kick in the stomach of Saul Blingsby, doubling him up like a jack- knife. “Ty spot!” The boy’s eyes fairly flashed fire as he ele- vated his rifle to carry out his intention. But the Yankee peddler, who was caress- ing his injured paunch with the utmsst solic- itude, threw down his weapon, and ducking the blow, dodged into a corner like a whip- ped cur, making no attempt at resistance, while his companion, with a surly look, low- ered ‘his weapon, baht sullenly back. Joe heard the shots and slightly turned his head, but upon seeing Sam’s move he turned again upon the wretch at his feet. “* That’s yer little game, is it, Nat Gleason?” hissed he, delivering.the smuggler a stout kick with his moccasined toe. ‘So you didn’t mean me no harm—ohb, no!” The smuggler winced with pain, but he dared not nora reply. > “Get up, I tell ye,” continued Joe, “I want * ter talk ter ye, and see that ye don't attempt ; no more roots, or it’ll be bad for ye?” Nat complied sullenly. as he rose to his feet. ‘I want ter know whar she is, and how ye sages ? replied the hunter, in husky ac- cen “She's well,” answered the smuggler, “but I can’t tell you where unless she says so; she says she never wants to see you in.” “It may be so,” said Joe, “but I shan’t be- lieve it until I hear it from her own lips, or a in black and white under her own an: ad : “You know how bad you treated her, Joe,” = replied Nat Gleason. : : *I admit all that,” answered Joe, “and I _ Was a mean hound ter do it, but she might have left me like an honest woman ’ithout outs up with one wuss’n me, no matter how was, ** What do you mean?” “ ean oP Se ese a tan at de S$ upon c ces,” was _ reply ; you know you treated her like a ~ “Yes, but that was when I was drenk.” __ “You were seldom otherwise, Joe; you never drew a sober breath.” e half a mind ter brain ye on the |. GREEN MCUNTAIN JOE. **But that won’t save her after becoming your—’ Before Joe could finish the sentence Nat Gleason held up his hands with a warning gesture. “*Stop, Joe,” said he, setting his teeth firm- ly together, *‘ don’t you ever let that lie pass your lips again, for I won’t hear it from even you: é is as honest and as true a woman as ever breathed the breath of life. Ill swearit by the living God!” Joe stood regarding the speaker with a look of incredulity. *‘T know it,” said he, finally, half to him- self, “‘I know it, until ye came between us with Ge sneakin’, cantin’, psalm-singin’ ways; but then she turned agin me like wormyood, and finally fled me as if I’d been a pisen adder.” ““That was because you wouldn’t give up your cups, Joe.” *““Do you mean ter tell me that there was never nothin’ betwixt yer?” “‘Nothing wrong, so help me Heaven! She has never been more to me than a sister.” ** Ye know she took shine ter ye afore she married me?” hissed Joe, with a savage look in his eyes. Nat nodded his head. “That was ended when the wedding oc- curred,” replied the smuggler. ‘*She was nothing to me after that!” ** But ye came betwixt us all the same!” “It was simply my duty as a Christian,” retorted Nat; *‘ when I saw her suffering as she did through your. evil ways, it was my duty as a member of the same church to be- friend her. I simply carried out the letter of the golden law.” “Wagh!” retorted Joe, with a motion of disgust. ‘I don’t take no stock in sich teachin’. ‘ What God has put together let no man part,’ was what ther parson said when he jined me and Sadie; and I don’t believe God ever taught no other docterin ter no other parson, even though ye claim ter be one yerself, Nat Gleason! “But I teli you he did.” ““Wagh, ye fix ther law ter suit yer own ona interests, Nat Gleason,” . . “* What yer doin’ now ?” S: pecanee ‘ Smuggl n’, yer better call it.” + a “* Whar d'ye get yer goods?” “Tn Canadat ““T know it, but ye don’t pay no duty?’ “T don’t mean to; I hadn’t ought to.” “Why not?” “Because Canada ought to belong to the United States.” “That may be true,” retorted Joe, ‘ but law’s law, and theStates suffer all the same; e take yer furs and sich like across the line ithout molestation, and sneak in yer peddlin geer ‘ithout payin’ a single red; ain’t that chiselin’ ther government, eh?” NatGleason hung his head, but made no reply. Ey hat’s about ther size of it, I reckon,” continued Joe, “‘and ye can’t put it in any other light; a man that'll swindle one wa “li do so another and hadn’t ought to tal Scripter or law to carry him out. But I did- n’t come hyer ter chop law ’ith ye, Nat Glea- son; I came ter find what ye’d done’ith my wife, and I’m goin’ ter do it. Ye say that she’s nothin’ ter ye, but she’s all ther world ter me; my life, my soul, my eternal salva- tion, so if ye’re a true Christain, as ye pre- tend to be, I demand her back at yer hands. I'ma straight,'square,Jhonest, sober man now Nat Gleason, as all ther folks of Marlbro an that vicinity ‘ll tell ye; try it and seeif I don’t speak ther livin’ truth, and_if I don’t ye can shute me for a liar—tell Sadie so if ou find I speak ther truth, tell her that ain’t seen hertin ten long, dreary years, and I’m hun for her, and if thar’s a single spark of true, womanly love lingerin’ in her m she'll come back ter me and for- give and forget the past.” Nat Gleason stood and regarded the old mapper curiously for several minutes. ss ns mean what you say, Joe?” inquir- ed he, finally. “T do, so help me God !” “I believe you,” replied Nat, holding.out his hand ; “‘ will you accept this as a token that I mean to bear your pceraee to vane wife, and effect a reconciliation if possible?’ “* Yes, on one condition.” “And what is that?” ““That you swear it on Holy Writ !” ‘* With pleasure.” - : Turning to the pile of goods on the fioor, the smuggler picked out a small pocket Bible with gilded clasps. Opening it, he held it reverently up, turn- ing his eyes toward Heaven. x “*T swear it by the sacred book, and all that T hold reverend in heaven and earth, to carry this message of Joseph Walmsley to his wife, Sarah, and .intercede earnestly with her on - his behalf, that she may become reconciled to him, and restore him to her affections as a true a“ a loving husband. So help me God —amen !” Joe’s eyes filled with tears, “*“'Ye’ve made my heart glad, Nat Gleason,” said he, grasping the smuggler’s hand, “and may Heaven be as goud ter ye as ye’ve been ter me.” ‘* Amen !” “That'll do, that’s all I expect or depend on,” said Joe, as he turned to Sam; ‘come along, Sammy; I’m ther happiest man in ther world, so I guess we'll finish ther hunt,” And then, notwithstanding a cordial invi- tation from Nat to stop to dinner, the old hunter Gale the cabin, followed by his young admirer. How unfortunate it was that neither ob- served the dark and malevolent look that phe paugeler cast after them as they closed e door. CHAPTER VIII. A FIGHT FOR LIFE, As they quitted the smuggler’s cabin, Joe Willis led the way across the clearing, and entered the pine forest. Choosing another path, he cut across the mountain to the spot where he had camped the previous night. “Tm goin’ arter ther dogs,” said he, in ex- lanation toSam. ‘I left them thar because didn’t want ‘em along; they are just chain lightnin’ ter mind, and I'll bet we find ’em just whar I left ’em.” This proved the case, for when they reached the spot they found the poor brutes just where Joe had left them. They pricked up their ears and wagged their tails, but never attempted to move until Ses Cea tbeya neoaa id Joe, cl Hy ys, & ogs,” said Joe, clapping his hands; *‘ come Snap, come Turk, I forgive ye for goin’ back fonter me jther way yer did this mornin’; come hyer!” In an instant the two fox-hounds spran to their feet, and leaped toward him wit barks of delight. pat was evidently all made up between em. Joe’s next move was to. to a hollow in the rock behind his couch, from which he took a haunch of venison. Cutting off several chunks, he cast them to the dogs, who devoured them ravenously, Then cutting off a couple of juicy steaks, he built a fire, and placing them in a frying- pan, they were shortly frying away, emitting a fragrant and savory odor, When they were done, Joe spread them up- on acoupleof square stones, and sitting down, both he and Sam enjoyed a hearty meal. ““That’s somethin’ like,” said Joe, wiping his lips as he finished, ‘‘and now I guess we better go look up the rest of the traps.” ** Are you comin’ back here ter-night?” ask- ed Sam. - “ Nary a time,” replied Joe. ter furder up that mountain. come, Snap, we're going out, boys. The dogs yelped their delight as they ca- pered and leaped around their master. Picking up the frying-pan and a pot, with * acouple of tin panikins, Joe swung them on his back, and shouldering his rifle, the two chums started briskly up the mountain. They passed the first trap and came to the next. . “‘ Nothin’ hyer,” said Joe, examining it; ‘it ain’teven sprung. I’min bad luck ter-day, it seems, but it won’t do ter grumble about trifles. Come ape p Then they walked on again. They had scarcely proceeded forty feet. when the report of arille was heard hind them, and a metallic sound rang from the iron pot on Joe’s back. “That was meant for me,” said Joe, wheel- ing about and bringing his rifle to bear; “ but a Pot saved me, At’em Turk—snap’em, nap . = In an instant both dogs leaped into the ‘* We'll quar- Come, Turk, a
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GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE, bushes, growling savagely, and Joe and Sam bounded after them. The sound of pattering feet was heard tear- ing through the bushes in advance. hen a growl and a cry of pain were heard, and the report of a rifle followed. One of the dogs gave a yelp. “That's Snap,” said Joe, as he hastened on, ‘and some ones hurt!” _ The next moment they were out in a clear- ing. fing flat on the ground was one of the In- dians, with Turk tearing vigorously at his throat. A little beyond Snap was tackling another. That left eight, who were returning to the aid of their companions. As they saw Joe and Sam leap into the clearing, all uttered a fierce shout, aiming their rifies at them. But the hunters’ arms were up as quickly. Crack! : Crack! 5 Two of the redskins fell weltering in their ore. Then Joe and Sam sprang toward the oth- ers. The six faced them, discharging their pieces, but the bullets flew wide of the mark. “Gol blame yer ugly picters!” roared Joe, his eyes flashing savagely, ‘‘ ye wouldn't leave me alone, and ye must stand the conse- quences!” The next instant he was on one of the In- dians, slashing away at him with his knife, Sam followed suit. But Joe’s adversary was game, now that he was in forit, and fought desperately, while the others hastened to his aid. ; Two of the Indians tackled Sam, thinking that they could easily get away with a mere boy, but they found their mistakes. Sam put his knife through the heart of one, and drawing it out dripping with blood as he fell writhing in the agonies of death, turned quickly upon the other. The fellow was a burly savage, and as Sam lunged at him with the knife he darted aside, warding off the stroke with his rifle-barrel, which he dropped. Then grasping the boy in both arms, he hugged him like a bear. am had no chance to use his arms; he was completely done up. But he had a friend at hand—Turk—who had made short work of the Indian by tearin his throat from ear to ear, left him dying an sprang upon Sam’s assailant with dripping aws. ; Y In a second he mounted the Indian’s back, SOE his fangs in the redskin’s spine. He fell back beneath the weight of the dog, and as Sam felt himself free he plunged his knife completely through his heart. Meanwhile, Joe was in a desperate fix; he pad four of the stoutest Indians to contend with. They were cutting and slicing away at every vulnerable point. But Joe was as wiry and supple as an eel, and, turning quickly as each struck home, he parried off the strokes with his knife or rifle, oD e. blow for blow in dire desperation. ut Down went one of the Indians with the blood pouring from a deadly gash in the throat, Slash! ‘ Another fell with his face severed from nose to chin. : Thrust ! P The deadly knife severed the heart of a third! Then Sam was at_his side, but, before he could strike a blow, Joe’s foot slipped and he fell, with his antagonist upon him, Then came a ee tene bay. Snap had finished his man, and rushed to the assistance of his master. CHAPTER-IX. A GRAVE IN THE MOUNTAIN RIFT. Swap, true to his name and nature, made a savage snap at the Indian who was strang- ling the life out of Green Mountain Joe. is gleaming fangs penetrated the flesh just back of the left ear, cutting a’gash that caused the redskin to wince and roar with in. ; Peput the maddened dog never loosened his as he tugged stoutly away, tearing the fatian free from his prostrate master. The Indian strove frantically to release from his perilous position, and twist- _——— TT, ed and squirmed, vainly endeavoring to stab the dog with his knife. But Snap leaped nimbly back, and biting ae transferred his hold to the Indian’s neck, eaues the brave dog was bleeding freely from a bullet wound in the head, he held his grip, shaking the gigantic savage as a cat worries a rat, while the latter cut and slashed away in dire extremity. But although the keen blade wounded the dog again and again, he never flinched as he tore and lacerated the Indian’s throat until the blood spurted like a fountain from his lacerated jugular. ‘*Good boy—good dog!” said Joe, as he rose, panting from the violence of his recent strug- gle, encouragin nee by clapping his hands. * Sick him—kill him!” _The dog’s blood-shot eyes turned respon- sively to his master, and wagging his tail he resumed the attack more furiously than be- fore, carrying out the order _to the very let- ter, until the Indian was as dead as a mack- rel. “That settles it,” said Joe, grimly pattin the dog’s head as he pulled him loose. _ “ O] Snap’s game to the backbone, and don’t you forget it.” The dog licked his master’s hand as if he thoroughly comprehended every word. “You bet,” said Sam, ‘that settles em, as you say.” ** Kerrect!” “I didn’t expect ter have any such tall game ter pop at when I started out so early this morning,” said the boy. **Nor me nuther,” answered Joe, “‘ but the red cusses brought it all onter themselves, and their blood’s on ther own head; I wash my hands of it.” ‘It ain’t none of my funeral,” coincided Sam, “but are ye goin’ ter let’em lay as ye did ther other one for some of their friends ter look up?” ““Wall, { should calculate not,” answered Joe; ‘one lesson of that sort’s enough for yer | 8" uncle. I'd like ter let’em lay for ther wolves ter polish off dead certain, but’ it "ud be rather risky arter what occurred just now, so I suppose you better lend me a hand ter bury em.” “« How are rocky groun e aie goin’ ter diga hole in this *ithout spade or pick-ax?”’ ask- ‘*Bekase thar's one dug already close by.” Ts that so?” : ‘°Yes, ye've heard of the Green Mountain Hoes tye?” “ es. ” ** Well, it’s vient over yonder, not a stone’s throw off, and [ll show it ter yer if ye'll lend a hand ’ith one of the red-skins ?” “Certain.” Sam and Joe seized up the body of one of the dead Indians by the legs and shoulders carrying it between them, Joe taking the ad- vance, 2 ° Just a little beyond the clearing where the fight with the Indians had taken p ace, a solid wall fof nite reared up to the height of nearly a hundred feet. Around the verge run a narrow path with aprecipice fully two hundred feet beneath and from this'perch the village of Malbro an thé slope and valley of the Connecticut, with its noble river and bordering of verdant are and undulating woodland, was plainly visible. “By Jinks!" ejaculated Sam, as the ex- uisite picture opened to his view; “‘ that’s ust scrumptuous!” aS “Just so,” retorted Joe, “but we ain’t no time ter view nature until we bury ther dead; ther’]l be time enough for that after.” ___ Sam made no reply as he followed Joe un- til they turned again, coming into the rift in the mountains, as it was termed. It was a rude and ru scene that struck the boy’s eyes as he reached thespot. _ Just beyond the spur of granite upon the mountain side stretched a range of slate of vast proportions. In the center was a huge crevice, or rift, where the elements had hewn away millions of tons of the stone, carrying them down to the valley beneath in an avalanche, ae Pate ay ve dug by natur’,” said Joe, ndian’s Teua “That's er dropping the upon the rock to “D'ye wipe the perspiration from his brow. own thar?” see that hole Sam looked over the cliff where Joe was pointing, and saw a well-hole of nearly twenty feet in diameter hollowed out of the solid rock. The sight caused him to wince, as he drew slightly k and turned pale. ““ Yer needn’t be afeared,” said Joe. “Ther ~ ain’t no danger unless yer miss yer footin’. But it would be along fall, and knock ther wind out of a fellow before he reached ther bottom, for that hole’s over three hundred feet, ter say ther least. See!” He stooped down as he spoke, disengaging: a piece of slate and dropping it over the preci- pice. Nearly thirty seconds elapsed before the pine of the stone was heard in the water be- neath. “That’s where I mean ter bury ther reds,” said Joe. ‘‘ Ain’t ita proper spot ter let ’em rest till Gabriel blows his horn?” “Yer right ” said Sam. Here goes!” said Joe, seizing up the In- dian’s head. ‘* Now—one, two, three, and away he goes!” and with a swing that carried it ten feet clear of the rock, the Indian’s body went whirling down the yawning gulf, and plumped in the water beneath with a sicken- ing splash. he remains of the other nine wassimilarly abe of, and then the two chums sat down 0 rest. ““T see this when it happened,” said Joe, — “and I reckon I was ther first one that know- ~ ed anythin’ aboutit untilit went tearin’ down ther mountain inter ther valley, carryin’ death and .destruction ter everything in its course. It was the grandest and awfulest sight I ever see in my life.” “Tt must have been,” said Sam. tell me all about it.” f “Waal, I don’t care if I do,” answered Joe, drawing one leg comfortably over the other, and patting his moccasin carelessly with his nad *Yesee, I had been out tracking a ay wolf up the mountain, and I'd just reached this very spot afore I caught sight of him, and hove up ter fire. It had been rain- ing like blazes for close onter two weeks, and it was in the month ofSeptember. It hadn’t stopped, and was coming down straight as a ; we ge when I see the wolf, “* Waal, as soon as I’dhove up I pressed the trigger, but the bloody gun missed fire. didn’t like ita bit, and just started some ‘tall cussin’, but I hadn’t time ter get out a word afore ther came a report like thunder, and then Isee a shaft of slate weighin’ fully ten ton shute up from the spur as if it had been fired by a blast, and go tearin’ and tumblin’” down the mountain. “Tt took me desprut, for I had no thought of such an event; but the next moment I was clean flunked, for witha rip anda roar that made my hair stand and ears ring and tingle, I see ther top of ther mountain quiver likea reed and shake like an earthquake. The huge pines and cedars underlated like a field of wheat in a north wind. ‘Pray ~ **Then all ter onct the whole mountain side ~ split away with a crash that shook the air like an explosion of a mine, and rocks and trees; mud and water, came rushin’ throngh the air with a force that nearly took awa me breath and whirled me to the earth as I'd been a grain of wheat. trees and rocks shuten past like a railroad train at full speed, tearIn’ and tumblin’ down I could see the the mountains like mad, carryin’ everything = before it. “Down, down, it swept till it reached the — valley yonder, trees fell, houses smashed ter pieces like egg s vanished; and in less than ten minutes thar wasn’t a single sign of a house or life ter be seen in an are’ of two miles!” : As Joe finished speaking, Sam’s breath al- most ceased, so deeply was he interested, “Tt must have been perfectly awful,” said he, finally, as he recovered his composure, “Tt was just stupend’us,” “Ther force of the returnin’ air went by near] how on earth and holt onas I did, but when I come to and looked down on ther damage done, I must say that Icouldn’t help thankin’ my Maker after the sli stunned me. I don’t ier for sparin’ me alive when He’d carried so many ter death and eternity.” : ‘Tt don’t wonder either, with bated breath. replied Joe. | managed ter keep my mind ~ coincided Sam, shells, cattle and horses fairly —_ 8] “But ther ain’t no use thinkin’’bout that now,” said Joe; “poor Snap’s pretty badly — ee
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GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. j _ ly had he gained used up, and I must attend ter him afore I do anything else.” alling the dog to his side, the trapper ex- erined is wounds with the deepest atten- tion. 5 He found that beside the bullet-wound that he had six severe cuts upon the back and breast, from which the blood was pouring ly. The poor animal was growing weak, and aioe amaediatly. fell to work to stanch the 00 This he did by shaving off the hair about the wounds with his knife and applying pieces of buckskin cut from his hunting- dress, sticking them on with resinous pite procured from the adjoining pines. By this time the sun was setting behind the mountain, shading the lonely spot in gloom, and as both Joe and his companion were exceedingly fatigued from the exertions of the day they lit a fire, and wrapping them- -selyes in their blankets lay down, seeking their hard-earned repose, CHAPTER X. THE MIDNIGHT WOLVES. JOE was so excessively fatigued that he fell asleep almost instantaneously, but Sam lay for some time watching the day fade into night until the stars appeared. is last thought was of his father and mother, and then a sense of tranquillity over- powered him and he fell into a deep sleep. So sound was his slumber, that he had no remembrance of what had taken place, or where he was, when he was awakened by a sense of something cold touching his face. Rising on his elbow, he looked around in a half-dazed condition, and as his senses re- _ turned, he saw what appeared to him to be two balls of fire peering at him through the darkness. Rubbing his eyes to discover if he was full “awake, he again saw the flaming orbs, an then he heard a low snarl. By this time Sam noticed that there was a large object close to him, and he could hear it hreathing with perfect distinctness. At first he thought that it was one of the alogs, but on looking toward the fire, where they lay when he fell asleep, he saw that they were both there and sleeping soundly. But still the breathing of the animal, what- soever it was, was perfectly distinguishable, and looking toward it, he again saw the flash- ing red eyes blazing in the darkness. y this time the sky was so completely ob- secured by dense, black clouds, that not a star appears , and everything was so dark around him, with the exception of the flickering fire- light, that he could scarcely see six feet dis- tant from where he lay, but as he strained his eyes to-their utmost, he saw the swarthy ob- ject crawling noiselessly toward him. _ Sam was a stout-hearted boy, but for a mo- ment he felt the cold chills running up and down his ye as clammy drops of perspira- tion beaded his brow, but plucking up with _ a desperate effort he arose upon his knees. The moment was none too soon, for scarce- i the position before the ani- mal sprang at him with a bound, ~ So quick was the motion that Sam had scarcely time to draw his knife before he felt two claws upon his arms, and then a twinge of pain rent his frame as two sh fangs were fastened in his left shoulder, A growling snarl followed. knew tacked by a wolf. - ‘His first thought was to call to Joe for as- sistance, but the next determined him to fight it out alone; so darting out his left hand he - fastened his ae Pee securely on the shaggy neck of his assailant, and drawing back the - other he struck boldly out with the knife. ~The wolf drew back with a yelp as the sharp blade penetrated his throat, cutting a fierce gash, but the next instant he made an- other snap, burying his fangs in Sam’s other | it shoulder. - _ The pain occasioned by the bite wasinten _ but Sam held:stoutly to his grip as he turn his knife up, drawing the blade across the wolf's fore paw. = Lee gush o1 blood followed the stroke as the injured limb fell limp and useless, with the _ tendons severed to the bone. Again the wolf let go its hold with a yelp, : another see. to bite, but as it did “so Sam drew back his knife, burying it up to the hilt in.its breast. a second that he had been at-| ru - A warm spurt of blood followed the stroke that almost blinded Sam, but he could feel the animal weakening at every stroke, as he buried the blade ain and again in its quivering bosom, until finally, with a grunt, it fell over dead. As it did so Sam leaped to his feet, wiping the perspiration from his face. At the same instant a series of fierce yelps was heard in every direction. “By Jingo!” said Sam, tossing a heap of brush upon the expiring fire, thar's a whole pack of em upon us!” In a moment the fire was blazing brightly up, and by its light Sam saw nearly twenty wolves tearing toward him in a body! There was not a moment to lose, so stoop- ing down he shook Joe stoutly by the shoul- der as heseized up his rifle, which hitherto he had been unable to use; at the same time he shouted loudly to the fox-hounds. Both Joe and the one were up instanter. The old man rubbed his eyes vigorously, but as he saw the approaching monsters he, too, grasped his rifle and stood on the defen- sive. ‘**Sizk ’em, Snap!” shouted he, bringing his rifie sharply up; “‘at'em, Turk!” : Crack! Crack! The reports of both Joe’s and Sam’s rifles rang out almost simultaneously on the mid- night air, and two of the foremost wolves bit the dust, writhing in the agonies of death. *“*Good boy!” shouted Joe, as he saw the animals fall, “‘ that’s ther wey ter doit; keep it up lively, Sammy, and I'l minute!” By this time Sam had loaded again and popped off another one, Joe rapidly following suit. Meanwhile both Snap and Turk had tackled the wolves in dead earnest, as their growls and the yelping of their antagonists plainly attested. “Took out that ye don’t hit the dogs, Sammy,” said Joe, warningly. ** Never £ mind me, governor,” retorted Sam, ee ter yerself; I'll paddle my own canoe!” Two more wolves fell weltering in their gore. But the others came stoutly on, with the exception of those who were struggling with the hounds. Crack! Crack! Two more fell dead, but by this time the others were upon Joe and and Sam and com- menced attacking them with vicious deter- mination. But the two chums kept on loading and firing as swiftly as possible, kicking and stam eas peat away at those assailing their heels, and now and then bringing the barrels of their rifles down with a ple thud upon the head of some more determine assailant than his mates. But it was a desperate battle and nearl fifteen minutes passed before it was ended; when on counting the spoils the hunters dis- covered that they had killed twelve wolves, not counting the leader, whom Sam had dis- d of in person, ‘“'That makes a baker’s dozen,” said Joe; “not so bad a night’s work of it, Sammy, arter all; but how on earth did yer manage ter h’ar ‘em? I was sounder ’en a bug in a se don't know myself, POPs Ani Sam, in- forming Joe of how he ha n awakened, “it must er been providential, for I was sounder than the seven sleepers i ifsc ** Well, ther varmints won't trouble us agin ter-night,” replied Joe, “‘for ther ones that hain’t been wounded by us and ther dogs "ll be too peakeakord ter try it on agin.” “Why so _, . Bekase ther comrades’ll tell ’em all about ** Nonsense!” * Nothin’ of ther sort. Animals can talk as well as humans. I'm as firmly convinced that they have alanguage of their own asIlam that I've anose on my face. But I'll fix it so that it won't come back—see if I don’t.” Joe fell to his work with his ax and felled several good-sized pine trees, which he cut u into suitable lengths and ran in a semi- circle from the precipice, hemming in the spot where they had been lying, and setting them in a blaze, secured a cordon of fire, when be wid ye in a| Joe. lying down again they were both presently as porns asleep as if nothing unusual had hap- peded. It was nearly five o'clock the next morning when Sam Willis woke again. The morning was extremely dark, for the clouds had not dispered during the night. **Oh, blazes!” ejaculated he, looking lugu- briously around; ‘‘it’s blowing up a storm, and I’m afraid it'll spoil our hunt. hat d’ye think about it, Joe?” asked he, addressing the trapper, who had just got up himself. “Yes, pufectly right, Sammy,” responded Joe; ‘‘ we're goin’ ter havea rip roarer, and it ain’t no manner of use growlin’ about it neith- er; man proposes and Providence disposes, any way yer can fix it. But never ye mind, young feller, yer can come up again some other time, and we'll have sot old time of it.” Sam’s face dropped, but he said nothing, as he helped Joe to pack up the blankets and get breakfast ready, which being ended, they did BP the rest of the trappings. “Ye needn’t look so all-fired glum about missin’ ther hunt, Renny said Joe, consol- ingly, as soon as they ha completed the op- eration, ‘‘for we made an excellent night's work ter pay for the mishaps of yesterday; we've got thirteen wolves here, and their heads are worth twenty dollars apiece boun- ty, which makes one hundred and thirty dol- lars for each of us, for I mean ter dervide equal—that ain’t bad to take, is it?” ‘Jewhiterker! do they pay that?” “Certain.” eh Why, ye muste make a mint of money, * Wall, I’m comfortable, Sammy,” said the old man, smiling grimly, as he commenced cutting off the wolves’ heads and stringin, them on an osier twig; ‘* but come along ‘i me, andd’ll show ye somethin’ better.” So shouldering their traps, they commenced retracing their steps toward the camp of the previous day, CHAPTER XI. A SORE DISAPPOINTMENT, Ir was near half-past ten when the two hunters reached the camp where Green Mountain Joe had the fight with the panther described in the opening chapter of our story. The skin was still stretched on the ground where Joe had fastened it after removing it from the dead panther’s body, for he had covered it with underbrush, but the polished bones were all that remained of the animal, the flesh having been gnawed cleanly away by the hungry wolves. : “That’s ther way the brutes would have served us out, Sammy,” said Joe, pointing to the gleaming skeleton, ‘‘if we hadn't waked up so quick. Sam shuddered at the thought, while Joe unpegged the skin, and rolled it up in a com- pact pees suitable for carriage. - Having done so he left it lying on the ground, and rising to his feet fastened pies upon Sammy’s with a keen look of in- uiry. ae ay, Sammy,” said he, ‘“‘can I trust ye with a secret?” ae looked at him with:a puzzled expres- sion. : ** What d’ye mean, pop ?” asked he; “‘ what d’ye mean, after trustin’ me with all ye have durin’ the last twenty-fcur hours?” “T know it,” said Joe, thoughtfully to him- self; ‘‘the gossips and busy- es down in Malbro would give ther right ears to know what ye learnt in Nat Gleason’s log hut yes- terday afternoon, they would, by Ginger! But ye'll keep it quiet, won't ye, Sammy; at least until I give ye leave to tell?” : **Certain, pop,” answered Sammy, proudly. “Td let them cut out my, tongue by the roots afore I'd give you away!” ‘i “TI believe it, Sammy,” replied Joe, wring- ing his young comrade’s hand warmly; ‘and I'll tell ye ther whole story when Ihave more time than I have at present; but I can’t do it Se cr I wane Ke sate these i = and some ts down ter ther village an spose of ple I might as well do it while ther storm threatens, for I can’t do anythin’ else that I know on, You'll lend a hand, won't ye?” : 3 “Certain.” : “‘ Wall, now, I'll tell ye the secret.” Sam seemed all eyes and ears. **How would vee like ter make a fortin’, Sammy ?” asked Joe. * Fust rate.” :
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** Well, I reckon we can make it,” continued Joe. ‘Sammy, I believe I've discovered a vein of silver!” Sam’s jaw dropped, and his eyes bulged out like saucers. For a moment he thought that his old friend had gone out of his senses. ‘* What—d’ye—ye—mean?” stammered he, as soon as he had recovered sufticient breath to ask the question. “Just what I say,” answered Joe, calmly. **Yeneedn’t stare at me in that fashion. I’m as sober and clear-headed as ever I was in my Be Come and see if I don’t speak the truth.” => Joe led the way as he spoke to the spot where he had slipped during the fight with the panther and fallen into the trout brook. Then, ue down, he cautiously re- moved the bed of moss that he had replaced when Sam called him while coming up the mountain side, During this o over him, with spot. Presently a line of white shining metal was revealed. “What d’ye think of that, Sammy?” asked Joe, turning his eyes brightly into the boy’s ration Sam bent anxiously is eyes fairly riveted to the ace. “Ts that silver, Joe?” inquired Sam, scarce- | ¥ ly able to breathe. “Yes, I believe so,” answered Joe, wiping the perspiration from his brow, ‘‘and our fortun’s made, for I mean to make ye my pardner.” ** Whose fortune is made, Joe?” inquired a soft, oily voice close beside him. Both Joe and Sam looked around as if they had been shot. : Had the master of evil eppeenee before them in proper person, with hoofs, tail, and all the other iperepnemels attributable to him, they could not have been more surprised, They had deemed themselves utterly alone. Neither believed that a living object was near, but there, standing just above them, _ with a bland smile upon his countenanee, - was Nat Gleason, with the peddier’s pack upon his back. Joe’s first thought was_to hide the vein __ but before he could do so Nat bent down and * _Jooked curiously at the shining metal. “What have you got there, Joe?” said he, in his soft, oily voice. Z eal Nothin retorted Joe, giving Nat a wick- = ook, 2 “What yer doin’ ‘yer, and whar did ye spring from, Nat Gleason?” “You needn’t look so angry, Joe,” replied _ Nat, good-humoredly. ‘It's amere accident - Icanassure you. I was just going down the mountain to dispose of my wares, and chanc- ed to take the path—that’s all; but I'm glad that I met you, for I want you to write a let- ter for me to deliver to your wife. She may’ as my word, but a letter will set matters right!” & T ain’t no scholar,” retorted Joe, dogged- Ate you know it, Nat Gleason; besides that, wharam I ter get paper and sich like, up in this mountain **Oh, I can remedy that,” replied Nat, re- moving his pack and placingiton the ground, “TY always carry such materials with me, * an write the letter and you can sign it; if you doubt me, possibly your young companion - will read the letter and see that I treat you - right. He looks like a sharp, honorable young man.” : __- “Ym agreeable,” replied Sam. - > Joe made no remark as Nat removed a aeeciebiarn .desk from his pack and com- meni writing. * When he ade finished he handed the letter to Sam. : Read that,” said he, “and see if it is all wane m read the letter aloud. “DAR WIFE:—\You know that I am no scholar and no hand at letter-writing, but T have got Mr. Gleason to write this letter for @ assures me that you are willing to “yeturn to me if I will keep sober and do my duty by you. My darling, I mean to do this, so help me I pray you to forgive the - pastand return to me; you will find me a chan man, and will never regret the step. Mr. Gleason will explain all; you know him, and can trust him as I do. “Your Lovinc HusBAND.” “ That sounds all right, don’t it, Sammy?" asked Joe, after a brief consideration. as “think I can sign that ithout harm.” y he signed his name in stragglin GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. “Tt seems all right to me,” replied Sam. “Wall, here foes, and God help me to get back my Sadie The tears stood in the old trapper’s eyes as letters to the missive, and then he handed it to Nat Gleason, who put it in an inner pocket, and commenced doing up his pack again. ‘Now, look he Nat Gleason,” said Joe, wiping away the tears with his sleeve, as his features hardened again; “‘I have trusted ye, and believein ye, though it goes agin ther grain ter do so, arter all that’s passed. But elp me, and ye have sworn on this Bible ter od forgive ye if ye don’t, for I never will.” “You have no cause to doubt me, Joe Walmsley,” retorted Nat, stoutly. ‘You never had—lying tongues raised the foul slan- der against your wife’s honor that came to you. IfI canlay hand supon the ones that did it, they shall suffer the direst penalty, never ear. “They shall die if I do!” retorted Joe, icily, and his face denoted that he meant Rae what he said. “Vengeance is mine,’ saith the Lord,” quoted Nat Gleaoon, sternly. “Wall, I'll take a hand in!” shouted Joe, | dr “and make it’sure; don’t you forget it!” “ll do my part, Joe,” said Gleason, “and ou can place implicit confidence in me. But what is all this about a fortune that you were a3 lating, to our young friend so confiden- ia “Wall,” replied Joe, shrugging his shoul- ders and making a wry face, *‘ seein’ as how fe come upon us so suddint, and it can’t be econ enough; I've discovered a vein of silver. The pocdlers eyes flashed with a mercen- ary light as he stooped down to examine the spot at which Green Mountain Joe was point- ing. BD you call this silver?’ asked he, after a moment’s pause, looking up with a derisive smile. = “Yes,” “Give me an ax!” Joe complied. : Gleason elevated the helve, and striking a heavy blow buried the blade some distance in the shining ore. “If that was silver,” said he, “ you couldn’t gees it in that manner; it’s nothing but ead. CHAPTER XII. NAT GLEASON’S PROSPECTUS. Boru Joe and Sam Willis’ faces presented lugubrious and comical expressiqns of dis- may at the announcement of the peddler. = «Dye mean ter tell me ’at that’s true, Nat Gleason?” inquired Joe, with a gasp of dis- may. ; “Yes, Joe, as sure as yer born,” replied Nat, smiling at his crestfallen look, “‘ but you needn’t take it to heart for all that; a lead mine ain’t such a bad spec’ to work, and this yein promises well by the prime quality of the ore; I should say, although I'm not much {| versed in such matters, that it was the pure thing; and if there's plenty of it, why we can make a big thing of it.” Then arabe while Sam and Joe stood watching his movements with considerable | all interest, Nat commenced cutting out several pieces of the lead in small square blocks which he placed carefully in his pockets. * Now look ye, Joe,” said he, after he had completed the operation, “and you, young man, too, you must be vey cautious and say nothing about this find, for if you don't kee it dark some of the sharpers from New Yor or Montreal will snap itup and take the wind out of our sails. I’m going to see your wife first, Joe, and I have no doubt that I can make things right between you, and then I go to Montreal to purchase wares, While there I shall get this ore examined, and if it turns out as good as I think it is I'll get some one to back us in the monetary line, and purchase up as much ground in this region as possible; then we can start a joint stock couipale and become perfect na’ obs, which ‘after ail, is almost as rich a prospect as if we'd struck a small vein of siver. Nat Gleason’s prospectus seemed so daz- zling with promises of future wealth, that both Sam and Joe rubbed their hands, chuck- ling with satisfaction, utterly forgetting for 9 the time being that»they were the first dis- coverers of the rare bonanza to which he was now laying claim and ownership, as if he were to be the ‘‘ we” of the expected boom, leaving themsimply ‘“‘us and company.” Meanwhile, thus rattling on, the glib-ton- gued peddJer had been digging along the vein with the blade of the ax, carefully laying aside the mossy sod. His face seemed glowing with gratification as he continued his task. “It’s a perfoct Golconda,” said he, finally replacing the sods carefully in their original position ; “‘a mine of wealth, Joe, our for- tunes are made, and if you keep sober, as you - have promised to do, your wife will be the happiest as well as one of the richest women in Vermont.” **Do you really mean that?” ‘*¥ do,” responded Gleason ; *‘ I’m sure of it, T’ve a snug little sum to back this up myself, and I can raise lots more; but you mustn’t either of you give it away.” ‘We won't; will we, Sammy?” ; “Nary atime, pop. I’mas dumbas a dead en.” Joe’s eyes were filling again with misty ops. Nat Gleason,” said_he, “‘you’ve made me the happiest man in Varmount, and if ye'll only bring my Sadie back to me I'll bless ye as long as [ live.” “Don’t trouble your head about that, my friend,” answered Gleason. “I know that it’s to pou interest to reform, and shall tell your wife so. Weare in for for it now hand and glove, and I shall stand to you through thick and thin!” Joe was so overjoyed at the bright pie « pect that he wrung the outstretched hand - again and again, utterly forgetting the past or that.the pretentious friend had fired a nearly fatal shot at him the preceding after- noon. “ And now I must be going,” said Gleason, re-shouldering his pack. ‘‘ Keep everything dark, good friends, and the Lord let the light of his countenance shine upon ye!” He shook his hands re-assuringly toward them and commenced meee the mount- ain, while they stood watching him until he aT hes from view. ** Say, Joe!” “Wall, Seu “D’ye know I don’t take ter that feller wuth a cent, not'ithstandin’ his soft sodder; yer better watch him er he'll play yer foul.” ““Yes—but, Sammy, ye see how he’s stood ter me about Sadie. 3 < Meanin’ yer wife?” es. “Wall, yedidn’t look at it in that same light esterday, pop.” ‘I know it, but he’s taught me different since; he’s sworn that all I heard was a lie, and promised ter bring ys LerEVenen again, © and I must trust him; he onl nows whar she is, and he’s goin ter bear her word.” ; as Wall, maybe he is,” responded Sam, doubtfully. ‘‘I don’t want ter sour yer on him, old man, butI’d watch him pesky sharp, I would, and don’t ye forget it!” “What’uld ye do, Sammy ?” “Do! Why, I'd dog him every step until I see him out his promise by deliverin’ = that letter. [Pddrop everythin’ until I learnt ct all; but if it’s all right it’s all right, but if it- isn’t that ’uld settle it ith me for good and ~ ‘By gol, Sammy !” said’Joe, ‘you spit it out- like a scholar and a lawyer. rh take yer ad- 3 vice and do it, but I'll try and not let him y af know it. I tried to foller him afore, but he 4 was too sharp for me; but I was drinkin’ aw- ful then.” “* Wall, don’t ye doit now, then,” advised Sam. ‘Keep aclear head and a sharp eye, and ye'll bring down the game every time; cates meantime, we'd better keep our find - dark until we see what he’s going to do about that; he’s considerable taken on that, I can see, and will look ter it for personal interest.” “You bet! yer pos shoutin’, Sammy, but < come along; we'll take down the furs and & dis of ‘em, for Tl want some money ter < foller himup.” * a Z Sam nodded his head, while Joe took the blankets, bidding Sam follow him closely. = “Come along,” said he; ‘I’ve got somethin else toshow you. Thar ain’t no one watchin us now, is there?” Sam looked carefully around and replied: Thr Joe led the way around the rock previously
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fe mentioned, and drawing aside a tangled mass of cat-briars, revealed a dark, narrow open- ing, which apparently led down into the bowels of the earth. Sam looked at the black hole in surprise. ‘Whar in blazes are ye goin’ now?” he asked. , **Come along and see,” replied Joe, smiling. **This is my fur wardrobe. Ive got quite a pile of °em stowed away below, and I reckon some of the traders’d like ter make a raid on ‘em—I do, by Jingo?’ _- ; Leading the way down a windin tae which grew pitch dark as they proceeded, Joe * was followed closely by Sam. Some six or eight minutes passed in utter darkness, and then the path gradually grew lighter, until finally they came out into a large cave, some twenty feet high and as many in diameter. The light penetrated through a rift in the rock above sufficiently to afford a view of the cavern, but, as the sky was overcast, it was still very dark. But by the dim light Sam saw that the walls were completely covered by dried skins of various animals, some of them piled in stacks, while the more valuable were sus- pended on pegs driven into the crevices of the slate rock. ““Why, this is just prime,” said Sam, ‘‘ but how comes it that it’s so dry, don’t the water come in through that hole? “Nary a time; it’s shed off by’a bed of slate, and the rain pours down inter the trout brook like a cataract when the heavy rains come in the spring and fall.” Just then the distant rumble of thunder was heard, and the ground seemed to tremble beneath their feet. ** Wasn't that thunder?” ** Yes,” replied Joe, “‘it always sounds just so down here. I believe this range of mountains is of volcanic origin, and some da or another ye'll hear somethin’ from it, see if ye don't.” , Vall, maybe if I don’t some one else will.” ““You bet,” answered Joe, “‘but we must get ther skins together, and be gettin’ afore the storm falls, for it’s going to be a snorter; Ican tell it in my bones; [ve lain out too long on the mountains ter be deceived.” As he finished speaking, Green Mountain Joe fell sharply to work and gathered up a pile of skins that would have astonished an army pack mule to carry, which by the aid of Sam, were conveyed to the plateau above the cave and done zp into two huge bundles. Then the blankets, traps, cooking utensils. etc., etc., were hidden in tho mouth of the cave, when, asking Sam to carry the wolves’ heads and panther skin, Joe shouldered the other bundles and his rifle, leading the way down the mountain; and, while he did so, to use Sam’s remark, he presented precisely the appearance of an animated haystack, so cum- bersome and ungainly was his | CHAPTER XIIt. GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE ON TRIAL. In this manner the two friends proceeded toward the little eee of Marlbro, which lay just at the foot of the Green Mountains. As shevepasecd Sam Willis’ house, his ener be in the porch and hastened to e gate. s¢ Whar ye been, ye everlastin’ good-for- nothin?” asked she, giving her son a kiss. **T was desperate took about yer stayin’ out all night.” “Couldn’t help it, mamma,” replied the ous hopeful; “‘had ter stay along with oe. Wouldn’t missed it for the world.” Pointing to the wolves’ heads. “Mercy alive! whar did yer get all er’em?’ asked the astonished woman, with her eyes as big as saucers. “Do tell?” ' “Honor bright; ask Joe.” Did he? “Why, that’s a perfect forgin’, Sammy.” “T know it.” “Come in, both of ye, and get somethin’ ter eat; dinner’s most Mit “Couldn’t possibly do it, mam,” replied Joe; “it’s goin’ ter rain like wild-cats, and it mies ile thefurs. Iwantterget’em down uire Chase’s before it comes down.”” ** Well, come back, will ye?” “Certain.” GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. Joe’s eee came from a turn in the road to which he had been une without stop- re further than to nod to . Willis as she ailed him and Sammy while passing. Meanwhile, as soon as he had kissed his mother again, Ss hastened after his comrade; but on reaching the curve in the road, a strange sight struck his gaze a slight distance in advance. Standing in the road at a distance of some twenty feet or so, was Joe, hemmed in by a crowd of villagers to whom he was gesticu- , | lating and shouting wildly, while they kept gathering closer and closer around him. “Mercy on us, what’s the matter with Joe?” shouted Sam, as he witnessed the scene and started on a run toward the spot. “T tell ye I’m goin’ right thar now,” Sam heard Joe say as he came up; “take yer beg- garly hands off me or I'll punch yer in the snoot; I don’t ’low no man ter lay hands on me ’ithout cause.” **But I have cause,” copes Job Wormley, the village constable. ‘“‘i’ve a warrant from Squire Chase ter arrest yer.” “Don’t know nothing *bout that thar,” retorted Joe, shoving away the legal docu- ment which the puffy constable was flourish- ing bombastically in his face, ‘I can’t read writin’ nor print, so go long, an’ if Squire Chase wants ter see me, he'll see me durn soon for thar’s just whar I’m goin’ as fast as my legs’ll tote me.” “But ye've got ter come along ith me, I say,” shouted the constable until his face turned as red as a turkey cock’s comb, But before he could finish another sentence, Joe’s stalwart arm shot out from the covering of skins, and his clenched fist took the officer of the law just beneath the smeller, sending him to grass instanter with the claret pour- ing in streams from his nostrils. And before he had recovered sufficiently to gain his equillbrium again, Joe had dashed through the crowd, who made way rapidly enough, — started on a run toward the Squire's office. Squire Chase kept the main grocery and general country store in Malbro, and in an- other room close at hand held his court. As Joe charged down the street, with the excitable rabble following at his heels, but taking excellent care to keep at a safe dis- tance, owing to theconstable’s recent disas- ter, Squire Chase, the doughty, short-legged, fat-paunched, broad-shouldered, red-faced bald-headed, and spectacled-nosed justice of Malbro, chanced to be standing in the door- way of his office. ““Why, bless my life,” shouted he, ‘‘ what’s this coming down the street at such a _ mad rate? Do my eyes deceive mé, or have I got the boys?” But the next instant he saw who it was, and stood on his dignity and the defensive. **Stop where you are!” shouted he, waving Joe back, and ducking behind the door-post of the office. Say, squire, do you want to see me?” in- quired Soe, coming to a dead stop; “‘say?” *“Y-e-s; but wher’s the constable?’ stam- mered the astonished justice, poking his head around the jamb. “Oh,” retorted Joe, ‘‘if you sent him arter me, judge, he didn’t take.me. I dropped him behind and come on alone, for I had some furs to dicker on, and I always tend ter busi ness matters fust!” **TIn that case,” replied the squire, coming out again, “‘you best drop ’em in the store, Joe, and the clerk ’ll tend to’em; then come in here, for there’s a serious charge against you that must be seen to!” Joe bowed and did as ordered, when he re- turned to the squire’s office, By this time Sam and the constable, with the rest of the villagers, had come up, and as many as_ possible thronged into the little office, while others gathered in knots outside, or jostled each other to look through the door and windows. “Hallo, Sammy!” said Joe, asSam came in, accompanied by the constable; *it seems ter me as Fr was under arrest.” **T'm in the same box, Pop,” answered Sam, cheerfully, ‘‘but I can’t find out what for; Job Wormley refused to tell, and rather than have the trouble you did, I came along.” * Wall,” replied Joe, smiling grimly, ‘I calculate that Job got the worst of that trouble.” ase By the way the constable was nursing his injured proboscis, it was evident that he was of the same way of thinking. ~ Meanwhile the justice had been arranging his papers, and presently he called the court to order. “Joe Willis,” said he, blowing his nose with a sonorous sound, “you and uel Willis are charged with murder!” ** What for.” “For murder !” “Yum !” The court nodded its head. —- ae makes ther charge?” inquired Joe. & “ e id An old Indian, evidently the worse for an overdose of fire-water, staggered unsteadily towards the desk. 2 ‘* We-mé-luck !” said Squire Chase, looking sternly at the Indian, “‘ you have been drink- ing since you came here this morning; you are drunk, sir!” “Yes,” grunted the Indian, ““me v drunk, but the white trapper kill my brother all the same.” Again the court nodded its head and read the complaint, in which it was stated thab early on the previous day Joseph Willisand = Samuel Willis had willfully and maliciously = wounded, slain and killed a member of the = Can-o-chet tribe, named San-ta-na, better 5 known as Black-Snake-Gil. “Ugh!” grunted Joe, ‘‘so the murder is out. I deny ther charge in to-to-to! If any one’s ter blame it’s me, and Im willin’ ter stand by it if I swing for it, but I don’t be- lieve I will. I had all ter do with it, and Sammy’s as innocent as an unborn angel.” CHAPTER XIV. GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE'S BEST HIT! In a few words Joe made a succinct state- ment of what had occurred in regard to the death of the half-breed, which, having bee» detailed in a previous chapter, it will un- necessary to repeat. “‘ And this is the fact,” said the court, peer- ing owlishly over its spectacles; “‘you are willing to swear to it, Willis?” ** Yes, sirah.” : “And you too, Sam?” “Every time.” ; “‘T don’t see what’s to be done about it,” said the court, fhoughtfalty scratching its: left ear with the nib of a quill pen. Then it turned and held a whispered con- sultation with the clerk. “Tf itis permissible I think that I may be able to shed a little light on this subject,” said a soft, oily voice close’to the door. Turning in the direction of the sound all hands saw Nat Gleason, the peddler, stand- ing in the opening. Ah! Mr. Gleason, Iam glad to see you,” said the court, ‘* and shall be glad to hear from you.” Without being sworn, the peddler made a brief statement of his meeting with the In- dians who had stated that they were in of some one, and putting this statement and Joe's together the judge decided to dismiss the case; declaring the court adjourned. A cheer rent the room at the decision. Just then a flash of lightning lit the gloom, and a sonorous peal of thunder shook the earth gnashi th. ‘‘Hark!” shouted the old Indian, ing his teeth with rage, “it is the voice of the Great Spirit displaying his wrath at the wrong done to me and mine!” > And then he strode rapidly away amid the © jibes and jeers of the bystanders. After receiving the congratulations of the — judge and friends, Joe went into the store and disposed of his furs to good advantage. = The bounty on the wolves’ heads was also — paid and divided with Sam, when the whole party adjourned to the tavern to take a - at Joe’s expense. : By this time the rain was coming down in torrents, and as Joe stepped out on the tavern steps after paying his score he found himself face to face with Nat Gleason. ; Nat beckoned Joe to follow him, and they walked to the end of the piazza. = “T have sold out,” said the peddler, looking around to see that no one was within ear- shot; ‘‘and I startnorth to-night. Have you any further word to send to your wife?” “No,” replied Joe; “do all you can, and tell her that I shall keep my word; but all depends upon herdecision. My fateisinher ands. : : “Just so,” said Gleason. ‘‘You can see that I mean to keep faith with you by my ap- pearance in court on your behalf. :
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courage and we'll be millionaires before six mane = over our heads.” “ ri ” Joe grasped Nat's hand, but after a brief ressure he drew it way. E “That's all,” said he. “Now we mustn’t be seen together again, for it might ’rouse suspicion. But, by the way, were those In- dians looking you up?” ** Perhaps. “ “Oh, I see you don’t’ want to tell. Well perhaps it’s just as well to keep one’s secret,’ “Perhaps. A still tongue never hurts any one. “That's true.” And with this reply from Gleason the two separated. - leason returned to the bar-room, while Joe remained where he was. Presently he felt a touch on his arm, and turning, he saw Sam Willis. ** What makes ye look so glum, pop?” ** Because I feel glum, Sammy,” replied Joe. ‘* I’m goin’ ter see Sadie ter-night likely, and have it all out, then and thar, **You don’t say! Have you learnt her whereabouts ?” “Not exactly, but I mean ter. Gleason is goin’ ter her ter-night, and I mean ter follow as ye adv ne! : - : * Good enough,” apes Sam, rubbing his hands; ‘“‘but you'll have ter keep yer eye open; ‘‘that preachin’ peddler is as shrewd as a fox.” *“T know it, but I’m goin’ ter beat him ter cover, all ther same.” : ** What yer goin’ ter do ’ith ther dogs, pop, they'll give yer away?” ; = *“No, they won't nuther,” replied Joe. “I’ve thought of all that, Sammy. I’m goin’ ter d leave ‘em’ith yew. They won't take kindly ter it,I know, but we must chain’em up, treat em kind andfeed’em. Fshan’t be gone | to long, and shall return whatsoever happens.” *“All right, pop, you can depend on me.” “1 know it, Sammy, you're ther only livin’ friend I ever had.” The two shook hands ean Ys and then whistling to Turk and Snap they went to- -. ward Sam’s farm through the driv ng rain, It was nearly dark the same evening. Owing to the cold storm which was ragin outside, a large fire was roaring in the broat chimney of the tavern bar-room. Around it 4 were gathered a knot of idlers listening to = We-me-luck, who, having recovered from his > rage, had returned to the bar-room to make a z night of it. ; = Phe old Indian was very drunk, and had - been amusing the tavern loungers with rem- -_ iniscences of his deeds of valor. “But all these were nothiug,” said We-me- luck, boastfully, as he returned from his fifth : trip to the bar, where he had just finished | nearly a tumblerful of raw_spirits, “‘to the z fight near Niagara, when Col. Van Rensel- laer crossed the river to attack Gen. Brock at Queenstown Heights. ; “There was three hundred militia under Col. Van Rensellaer and three hundred regu- lars under Col. Christie, which were to be fol- lowed by Col. Fenwick’s melose =. as Col.-Van Rensellaer crossed first with one hundred men, but he had no sooner landed from the boat than he received four serious wounds, but he never flinched as he gave the command to storm the fort. ee “The men charged boldly we the heights 2 and drove the British from their guns, but . before they had retreated far, the British Paty ninth came into line and charged the ricans. AM the boys fought hard and killed Gen. - - Brock and his ai Captain aMeDonald;: but ; hundred was grea s, and al- “shoe Rensellaer, after being driven over the river, recrossed with reinforcements and repulsed the enemy, another line of Brit- ish troops came SP with three hundred In- _ dians, turning the attle; completely routing the Americans oe arty ig them over the am illing and capturing many. mG ee reaching e other bank, Van Ren- " sellaer endeavored to get his demoralized though Van troops in order, but before he could do so tight hundred British regulars from Fort Geo: hove in sight, and renewed the at- le ensued, when the to surrender them- tack. A brief stru; ae eho se war. selves as prisoners . s ver been a putty hot fight, old ee ee said one tt the bystanders, ok PR Sog to his companions, GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. *““Yes, very hot,” retorted the old Indian, **and I was init. I was one of the Indians who came to the aid of His Majesty.” ““You ought to be proud of it!” said the other, disdainfully, “and if I wan't young- er’en you I'd punch yer snoot!” The old Indian was too besotted by his po- tations to notice the storm that was rising against him, and continued his story. ** Well, the night of the battle I came to camp with my braves, and Captain Barnwell told me to take twenty of my braves and capture a party of Americans who were hid- ing in the woods some four miles distant, I gathered my braves together and started. **T had nearly completed the distance when I saw a log house by the side of the road. ““As we passed it I saw a light shining through the window-curtain, and just then a aoe crossed. It wasthat of an American officer. **Ha! thinks JI, that’s one of ’em, and Yl take him too. So going up tothe door, I knocked loudly. ‘The light went out and all was darkness; |jbut I continued knocking, calling for them to open or I would break in the door. “They finally did so, but ny the feeble light the woman carried, I could see that there was no one in the room but her, a little girl of six, and a baby in the cradle. *** Where is that officer that was here just now ? I demanded. **«There was none, replied she, as brazen as life. **«There was,’ said I, ‘and he was drinkin out of this, for I can smell the fresh spirits?” **As I spoke I seized up a tumbler half full of rum that stood upon the table near the window with a black bottle beside it, and fill- ing the glass I drank it down.” *It’s a wonder you didn’t take the bottle 0. » ‘“*T did,” retorted the noble savage, with a maudlin leer; “‘I followed up with that and it fired me with a bright thought.” “Yum.” ***T know that he was here, for I see his shadow on the curtain,’ said I, ‘and I mean to make you tell me where he is.” “Striding to the cradle, I seized up the Aran baby and raised my tomahawk over i Raat ***See here,’ said I, ‘if you don’t tell me where he isin less than a minute, I'll brain your child on the spot!’ “The woman gave a shriek and went down on her knees in a second, and so did the little irl. : ***Ton’t kill my baby brother! Don’t kill| J my child!’ cried they both in a breath, while I stood looking at them. “But ye didn’t do it, did ye?” The question came sternly from Green Mountain Joe, who had been sittingin the corner of the fire-place, as he rose from his seat. “What's that to one growled the In- — glaring defiantly at him, “‘supposing I ‘“ Why. ablaze, ** skunk!” 2 In an instant he seized up one of the fire- irons from the blazing back log, before any one present could comprehend his meaning, or prevent the stroke, he dealt the Indian a desperate blow upon the forehead. e-me-luck fell senseless and bleeding to the bar-room floor, as Joe with a roar like a wild beast dashed out into the storm. that!” roared Joe, with his eyes you miserable, sneaking, cowardly CHAPTER XV. ON THE TRAIL. As the old Indian fell to the bar-room floor, praeated by the blow from the fire-iron, oe had seized his rifle from the corner and dashed out into the es In an instant a scene o fusion ensued. Old Adams, the landlord of the tavern, who had been serving out a fresh supply of New England rum to three new-comers, dropped his muddles and darted toward the spot from whence a loud outcry arose. A ‘* What's up, boys?” asked he. **Green Mountain Joe’s at his tricks again!” “The dickins !” ** Yes, he’s just killed old We-me-luck !” “More luck ter him,” responded the land- ae sotto voce. ‘‘I wish the old cuss was d for good and all; he’s the cussedest old Injin I ever see !” storm. the wildest con- lL But notwithstanding his remark, he bent down over the prostrate figure on the floor and felt of his pulse and heart. ‘‘He ain’t dead much,” said he, ‘‘ he’s the liveliest corpse Iever see! What caused the row One of the by-standers told him. «Served the tory redskin right!” responded the landlord; ‘‘ but it won’t do to let him die right here; so some of you run out for a buck- et of water, and we'll see what can be done,” One of the idlers ran for the water, and the landlord went behind the bar, returning with a tumblerful of raw spirits. He poured a portion in his hand and bath- oe ae bleeding wound over the Indian’s fore- ead, The injured savage gasped and twitched fee and then the landlord poured the rest down his throat. We-me-luck spat and sputtered, his breast rose tumultuously, but notwithstanding his lack of wind, he swallowed every drop of the spirits, and then, as his eyes opened, he sat up and pee stupidly around. **Me killed!” ‘ * Not much,” responded the landlord, ” “Good!” We me-lucks ered to his feet. ** Whar’s Green Mountain Joe?” ** Gone,” said one of the bystanders, “Good! Me get im yet.” And without another word the wounded Indian started from the bar-room in search of his assailant. *““T’m glad the old cuss is gone!” said the landlord. ‘*‘ What’ll ye take, boys?” A shout greeted the invitation as the door closed behind the Can-o-chet chief, and all hands ranged toward the bar. As Joe quitted the bar-room and ran down the tavern steps, some one hailed him: “Ts that you, Joe?” **Yes,” responded our hero, coming to a sudden halt. ** He’s just gone down the road.” “You don’t say?” ** Yes, there’s some one with him.” ““ Who was it?” **Can’t tell, it’s too all-fired dark ter see.” **Come on!” Joe ran down the street, followed closely ‘by Sam Willis. It had been arranged between them, after dining with Mrs. Willis, that Joe should re- turn to the tavern, while Sam kept watch on Nat Gleason, in order to inform Joe when the latter started for the North. * Have ye got the hoss ready, Sam?” asked oe. “Yes, he’s in a clump of cedars up street,” answered Sam, then lowering his voice, as he ran on: “‘ Nat’s yonder, talking ’ith the feller I was speakin’ of.” * All right.” Presently they approached a snake-rail fence just beyond the limits of the village, where a low swamp, with elderberry bushes bordering it, ranged along the road. “* He's yonder,” whispered Sam. s In the bushes, hey ?” “All right; just you wait here ’til I come back, maybe I can find out who's ’ith him.” Joe crept away. But Joe did not succeed as well as he an- ticipated, for when he reached the spot where Nat Gleason was conversing with his com- panion the rain fell so furiously, and the night was so dark, that he could scarcely see, but he thought from the voice that it was Saul Slingby; in fact, after listening a minute or so he became convinced that it was. “So you must go to-night?” he heard the Yankee ask. es. “<Tt'll be a blame rough trip.” ** All the better; there'll be no one on the watch. It’s a splendid night.” “ Yes—for ducks.” ; “ Have you got the furs all packed?” “Yes, p beet on the horses, close at hand.” “That's good! Then we'll be off at once.” “ But what am I to do?” asked another voice, that was utterly strange.to Joe. - **Stop here and keep a sharp eye on——” The rest of Gleason's words were cut short by a raging blast of windanda pinging burst of rain, that almost swept away the old hunt- er’s breath. But, as the rain ceased a little, Joe heard the man reply: 2 * All right, I'll keep him in tow.” ; And then he had scarcely time to dart into
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1Z GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. the underbrush and conceal himself before the three men passed him so closely as to al-| and Saul Slin most jostle him. “By jingo!” gas spiration from his brow, “that was a pesky close shave! I came mighty nigh gettin’ gpepued up!” c Then he waited some five minutes, when he re gined Sam SP dana : . . ye make anything out, pop ** Nothin’ ter Epeak of, Rent ; but they’re off, and I must get lively or ll miss ’em in the darkness.” By this time they had reached theclump of cedars, and Sam brought out the horse which he had borrowed from his father. Joe leaped into the saddle, and shaking him prarnly by the hand, rode off in the blinding storm. It was but a little after half-past seven when Green Mountain Joe laid We-me-luck sprawling on his back with the andiron, and it was hardly half an hour when Nat Gleason started for the Canada line in company with the Yankee peddler. It was as much as Joe could do to keep an the lumbering farm horse to the pace, the ol fellow having never been used to over a six mile an hour gait. But he managed to keep them within ear- shot by the sound of their horses’ hoofs in the muddy or rock-bedded path. Meanwhile, the rain poured down in tor- rents, and rather increased than decreased in volume. But the vivid lightning and the heavy ls of thunder that heralded the storm long since ceased, and the rain kept coming down heavier than ever. “ Hey!” said Nat Gleason paddenty, drawing ing in his ho “* what was that ; It sounded like the footfalls of a horse upon the bridge we just passed,” replied his companion. “Possibly we are followed,” said Gleason. “T must find out.” Turning back, he rode toward the bridge. Just then a wild shriek of almost human ‘ony resounded on the night air. he two smugglers reined in their horses and stood peering at each other through the darkness, “It was the death cry of a horse,” said Slingsby, trembling in his saddle. Nat Gleason whipped up his horse toward the brid but as the animal’s fore-hoofs struck the planks it reared upward witha neigh of terror and utterly refused to stir. So sudden was the halt that it nearly un- bh the smuggler, but springing to the ground he went out on the bridge, only to pause almost as suddenly as his steed. _ “Great heavens!” he gasped. ‘‘The bridge is broken in the center! It has been carried away by the fresh!” CHAPTER XVI. A RAY OF HOPE. As previously stated Green Mountain Joe had followed Nat Gleason and his comrade as closely as possible to avoid detection himself. Just before they reached the bridge mention- It was at this moment that Nat Gleason by had heard the last des- pairing cry of the frightened horse ; it was at ped he, ashe wiped the per-! this moment that Joe found himself strug- gling for dear life in the swollen stream, as the broken timbers of the bridge and floating ree and planks dashed heavily against im. It was pitch dark, the water was merci- lessly whirling him hither and thither, as it swept down stream at arate of nearly four- teen miles an hour. He knew that he could scarcely swim a stroke, but the old horse was sinking rapidly while kicking and struggling to stem the current; thus, unless he meant to go under too, he must free himself and trust to luck to reach the shore alive. So disengaging his feet from the stirrups, he leaped from the horse, leaving him to his aah and struck out boldly for the nearest shore. It seemed as if it was utterly useless to contend longer. His arms were growing so tired that he could scarcely move them; his legs began to manifest symptoms of the cramps, and he was on the point of giving up as lost, when suddenly he felt something dash against him in the darkness, and then something cold touched his cheek, and a bristly head touched his face. He made a desperate blow at his assailant, but the next moment a low whine struck his ears as a ir of sharp teeth Peneecnen through his hunting jacket, partially ing the flesh, and then he felt himself being pulled toward the shore. He struck against it, and at the same time his arms came in contact with a large rock, on which he seized a stout hold. For a few moments he remained there rest- ing and gasping for breath, and then he drew himself up on the bank and lay down; as he did so the animal that had aided him began licking ‘his face and hands, and stretching out the jatter he discovered that it was one of his own dogs. “Hallo, Snap! hallo, Turk!” shouted Joe, petting the faithful hound’s head. The dog responded with a low whine at the latter name, as the old hunter continued ad- dressing him. ** So it’s you, Turk,” said he; ‘how onearth did ye get away? I thought that I fastened ye pretty securely.” he dog simply wagged his tail and whined in return, as the hunter continned his ca- resses, brushing off the dripping water from his shaggy coat. While doing so he came to a stout ro around his neck, ees examining which he uttered a low whistle. “Tm blowed if this cuss ain’t gnawed him- self free,” said Joe. ‘* Bully for yew, for if it hadn’t been for te Turk, I'd been a gone coon, and no mistake,” The dog manifested his perfect compre- hension of his master’s words by wagging his tail, but never emitted a sound as he followed closely in Joe's tracks, who had arisen from his seat and started toward the ed at the conclusion of the previous chapter, | road. he had been forced to hide, as he so fre- quently done during his ride. He could hear the tramping of Nat and Slingsby’s horses as they trotted across the bridge, and fearing that they would hear his also, had paused some minutes to give them a chance to go on before he follow Thinking that they had done so, he started again, but he did not know that they had halted on the o ep bank, and thus it was that they heard is advance, 5 As he did so, hecould hear the wild rush of the rising freshet which came pouring down like a cataract from the mountains, “ Blame the thing,” said he, ‘‘it’s as shak as a bad egg; I over!” He had scarcely uttered the words before his horse came to a dead halt and strove to wheel round, but Joe pulled the reins taut and struck him a stout stroke on the side of the neck. With an angry snort the animal leaped forward, and Joe could feel the bridge trem- ble and shiver beneath his tread; then acrash followed that seemed to shake the frail structure to the center, A huge tree, carried down by the foamin torrent, had struck one of the stanchions o the bri which wavered, k, shivered ahd great over into the raging waters witha cras ; pe it'll carry me-safe| broad. They had proceeded in this manner some five minutes or more, when they struck a ledge of rock covered by scrub-pines that Joe considered too high to surmount in the darkness, so taking a detour, he started around the The ran north wa: a clearing. Upon reaching this place Joe saw a ray of red light spreading out into the clearing from what he soon found to be an open door- ery. of a log cabin. y the aid of the light which emanated from a huge log fire that was. blazing in the » open fire-place, Joe saw a_ couple of horses standing in front of the cabin door, ran some quarter of a mile to the . when it broke off at the verge of from which two men were busily engaged in | ter. removing bundles. Joe recognized Nat Gleason as one of the men, but he saw something else the next in- stant that caused his heart to bound, as a genial light sparkled in his eyes. It was the ap ce of a woman at the open door, bearing a lighted tallow-dip. CHAPTER XVII. THE MIDNIGHT SHOT, “Was it his wife?” This was the first thought of the old hunt- er, as he stood eagerly regarding the strange apparition. 2 But before he could satisfy himself the door closed suddenly and all was blank dark- ness again, as the wind rose with a piercing et and swept the blinding rain into his ace. But Joe had no thought for the storm or of his dripping garments as he commenced crawling cautiously toward the cabin, He passed half way round it, regarding it with the utmost scrutiny until he came to a window eironee which a light was shin- ing, shedding a long ray out into the dark- ness. Close beside the window was a narrow bench, on which Joe immediately clambered, and by this means gained a glimpse into the interior of the apartment. It was perfectly empty. ; Joe sighed; he had popes to see his wife, da" “He is greatly chan d she anxiously. - “For the better?” as “Yes, and no.” “Was he sober?” Gleason paused, and then replied: Yes, but he looks very old.” “‘T suppose so. He was not young when I left him. Do you think he has reformed?” ** He says so.” She nodded her head thoughtfully. ** What is he doing?” she inquired. “ Hunting, up in the Green Mountains, back of Malbro,’ **Do you think he has reformed ?” “The people in the village speak well of him,” replied Gleason. ‘They say he never © comes into the village aes to sell his furs and poe wder and shot, sometimes a small stock of provisions.” ** Does he drink at all?” “Very seldom. He simply carries up a small demijohn of spirits for medical pur- Si! a you think it would poses. ‘I am glad of it. Do be safe for me to see him? Gleason paused thoughtfully again before he replied, but finally spoke. “‘T don’t know how to advise,” said he. ss pou must trust alone in divine Providence an Read this.” Joe saw him hand her the letter he had written up in the mountain, She read it slowly, and wi her eyes at its conclusion, He could see the tears standing — in them. “TY think I can trust him,” she said, con- signing the letter to her bosom. : £8 § with you,” cried Gleason, “‘ but I think you better leave him on probation for awhile. Supposing you write a letter in re- ply, that you will pice him six months longer to prove his repentance, and that if at the end of that time reports are favorable you will return to him again, forgiving the past as he requests.” “T don't know but that would be the best ete replied; ‘‘when will you see him” n “In two or three weeks,” answered Glea- son, - 4 ‘I go on to Montrel to-morrow, and when I return I shall see him with yuk reply. You see that Ihave promised to do so by the let-— “TI have it ready then.” “I think you better write it now,” answer- : ed Gleason; “it is likely that I shall not re- — turn this way.” : *T will do so.” =x Joe saw his wife seat herself and take out — n, ink and paper, and commence writin ow his heart yearned to leap in thro’ : the window and clasp her to his breast,to _ urge her to forget and forgiveallnow and — take him as he was, : <a Just then he heard a sound at his side, and then he felt Turk tugging away at his leg. _ Looking to ascertain the cause, he heard — a our own feelings, Ihave told you all. .
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GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. 13 the sound of horses’ footfallsand then he saw a@ man go by with two horses. _ Joe ducked down his head to hide his pres- ae sere light from the window displayed the sight. HaNas soon as the man had passed he look- Roars a kiss on his hand, ed u in, and vate is wife. tossed it toward Crack! 5 The sound of a rifle rang out in the dark- ness, and Green Mountain Joe fell heavil forward against the window panes, whic crashed beneath his weight, Both Gleason and the woman darted to his » Side, and asthe wife saw the ghastly feat- ures of her husband, she uttered a piercing shriek and fell in a dead faint at his side. The smuggler’s face was as black as the el- emental strife outside. CHAPTER XVIII, As the Sy of the rifle rang out clear and sharp through the raging svorm, Green Mountain Joe fell with a crash against the window of the log cabin, Turk uttered a ~ savage growl and leaped quickly into the darkness. : The next instant a fierce cry of pain and alarm announced that he had tackled and in- jured something; in fact, he had fastened his sharp teeth through the nether garments of a man who was retreating rapidly toward the woods, and they had bruised and lacerated the flesh. But with a savage oath the wounded man turned and dealt the faithful hound a territic blow upon the head with his rifle. _ Turk released his grip and fell to the earth quivering as ifin the throes of death; but re- ’ covering wind with a moaning ¢ry he sprang at his assailant, who had again started for the woods. But the dog was close at his heels making another snap at his legs. The brute turned and dealt another stun- ning blow at poor Turk, who keeled mp again More seriously injured than before, while his "assailant effected his escape. ; , Meanwhile, as has been described in the proces ne chapter, upon being shot Green ountain Joe’s weight carried him through the f le window frames, and as he swooned from the concussion of the bullet, he fell bleeding to the floor. . Spar ne her wounded husband, Mrs. _ Watmsley had fainted in turn, leaving Nat - Gleason standing a surprised and enraged spectator of the scene. “Furies!” shouted. Nat Gleason, as he gnashed his teeth and pressed his hands to- gether until the finger nails met in the palms; * this will ruin all.” Turning quickly he ran into the next room, which was the kitchen, and returned with the water-pail. Removing the tin dipper, he layed the brow of the insensible woman with _ water and dashed several handfuls in her = hs - ~ ace. ‘Then placing his hands over the lungs, he worked them like a bellows to restore respir- ation. Presently his efforts proved success- ful, for she gasped and shivered, and thena faint flush animated her cheeks as her eyes _ unclosed with a startled stare. ** Where am I?” she muttered. 2 ** You are safe,” replied Gleason ; ‘* be calm ; it is not so bad as you surmise!” “i e could see that as she re- __ “TY was afraid that the sudden shock would kill you.” -~ **No, no; Iam much better now.” And tocertify the fact she sat up and wiped _ the water from her face and neck. Meanwhile Green Mountain orey hast- ly pale upon the floor, with the lood pouring in torrents from a gaping wound over ‘the left temple. ~_ ** See to him, for Heaven’sisake, see’to him; _ donot let him die!” moaned the wretched _ wife, wringing her hands piteously, and pressing her lips passionately to the wounded - man’s lips. _ *Tt’s a bad one,” said Gleason, tracing the ~ course of the bullet with his finger, ‘but not _ necessarily fatal. The bullet went in just - back of the left ear, and passing through, cut _ off the tip and gashed the temple. He isstill _insensible, but he is coming round,” i Se ea “oe Oh je Joe uttered a deep moan and moved uneas- ily on the floor as Nat Gleason finished speak- ing. Fe groaned again and turned over; then he sat up, and clasping his head with both hands, gazed around with a stupefied glare. “Where am I?’ could speak, **Safe,” replied Gleason. ee “Joe, my poor darling,” moaned his wife, kneeling at his side, “‘ thank God that you are spared to me yet !” “Who fired that shot?’ demanded he stern- Wy as eke looked savagely at his blood-stained an “Tm sure I do not know, dear,” replied his ife. “‘T didn’t ask you,” retorted Joe curtly, as he ushed her away and then staggering to his eet, he turned on Nat Gleason like an enrag- ed panther. Ww. “T asked you, Nat Gleason ! Who fired that | gro’ shot?” “*T don’t know.” “Ye lie, curse ye ! ye lie!” roared Joe, fairl beside himself with rage ; “‘ it was that skun Saul Slingsby, for I see him go by the house with the horses just afore it was fired. I couldn’t a been no one else !” “* How did you come here?” demanded Nat. “T hain’t got time to answer questions. Tell me where Saul Slingsby’s now, or I'lljh wring it outen yer black heart !” **T don’t know.” “Wall, Pll find him.” “Tm sure he had mophiite to do with it, Joe,” said Gleason, barring his path as he started toward the door. ‘‘Don’t be fool- hardy, and dosomething in passion that you'll regret at a calmer moment, leason had scarcely finished the sentence before the door burst suddenly open and Saul Slingsby sprang into the room. : * Any one “hurt?” cried he, and as he wit- nessed Joe with the blood pouring over his face, he turned as white as a sheet. a es,” retorted Nat. ‘Who fired that shot?” “T’m sure I don’t know,” answered Saul; ‘but as soon as I heardjit I turned and sawa man darting toward the pines. There was a dog in hot pursuit.” “That was Turk,” said Joe to himself. Just then there was a scratching sound on the outside of the log cabin, and then Turk bounded‘into the room, with his rough coat covered with mud_and the blood pourin from an ugly wound on the scalp, which ha been cut by the rifle barrel of his assailant. “That's the very dog now,” said Stingsby, who was staring from Joe to the dog as if he considered them both ghosts, ““Then you didn’t fire that shot Saul Slings- by?’ asked Joe, starting toward him. “No, What on earth do you mean?’ “* Honor bright?” “Dead certain,” “*T believe ye.” ““ Where are ye going, Joe?” said his wife, as he started toward the door again. ‘Ter look up ther skunk that tried ter kill me*” retorted Joe, with flashing eyes. ‘But you’re badly wounded, husband.” “Tt’s only a scratch, Sadie,” replied, Joe wiping away the blood with his hand. “Til have that man’s life, whomsoever he is!” **Oh, don’t go, Joe!” pleaded the wife, * Meanwhile, on reaching the outside of the cabin, Joe went to the window where he had been shot. Bicopie down he examined the muddy un . He could see the footprints of Turk in the soil, for, notwithstanding the raging storm and the dense darkness, his eyes were as. keen as a hawk’s. While doing so Turk pulled him by the t | sleeve, 7a understand, old fellow,” said Joe; “go out. ‘Then as Turk darted away he sprang after im. Presently they werein the woods, the do eading the way, but he hadn’t gone far nal fore he stopped and commenced sniffing the ground, then he ran toa tall tree, and utter- ed another wi. 2 “Treed , hey?’ gasped Joe. oothe ad beyed. ing his tail restless] e dog obeyed, swa is tail restless from aaa to side. s oh y, Joe swung his rifle on his back, and draw- ing his knife placed it between his teeth. hen he commenced climbing the tree. He examined every branch, but discovered nothing, and was on the point of descending when he found a broken twig. “‘T see,” said he, to himself, ‘the skunk went into the next tree.” The next instant he swung himself into the adjoining tree, but here he was also at fault, and descended to the ground. “Come hyer,Turk!” shouted he, to the dog; “*find him, boy!” Presently they were both on the verge of the roaring torrent. The dog commenced running up and down the bank with his nose scenting the ground, and then he stopped with a bafiled growl. 2 Joe bent down and examined the bank in urn. “Thar’s been a boat hyar,” said he to him- self, ‘‘and that’s the way the skunk came oat went. I wronged Nat and Saul arter Then he rose up and uttered a string of savage oaths, Just then a huge log eame tearing down the stream. It lodged for an instant inst the bank. Joe pointed to it and motioned to the dog, who leaped upon it; then seizing up a long pole that lay upon the he leaped upon the log and shoved it into the surging water. The log Deed hae and wavered, but Joe kept his feet, and, darting the shove-pole rapidly from side to side, set the log toward the op- posite bank, = The rushing water caused it to shake and tremble, but by his strong nerve Joe man- aged to cross safely and leap upon the bank as the log whirled stoutly away in the eddy. But Turk was before him, and another howl called his attention to him. Darting to the spot Joe saw the dog bend- ing over somethin: tooping down an Indian canoe, _ 3 ** Hal" gasped he, “‘I understand it all now —it was that red skunk, We-me-luck!” Joe bent down to examine the ground. *“T thought so,” said he. “The red-skin had @ horse, and has taken the back track; but I'll make him pay dearly for this yet!” CHAPTER XxX. WirH a wicked light in his eyes, Joe made a motion to his dog and started toward Mal- bro, Turk running on in advance. But after they had gone a mile or two poor Joe an to weaken from loss of blood. é He felt a sickening, aa tbodee “ Lay se discovered that it was sensation creeping over him, and, alth he fought
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14 stoutly against it, it finally overcame him and staggering like a drunken man, he reeled into the underbrush and fell into a dead faint. * * * > * It was about five o'clock on the morning of the events described in the preceding chapter, * and, although the skies were dark, the storm had ceased. Sam Willis had arisen and dressed himself, to do up his usual farm chores. On going to the barn, where he had left nee and Turk securely fastened, he found the former tugging stoutly away at a huge ox chain. The poor animal was barking and whining in the most piteous manner; but no signs of Turk remained except the severed rope from which the dog had gnawed himself free. ‘This is a pretty kettle of fish,” said Sam. “Tl bet the cuss_has gone in search of his master, If so, he'll give Joe dead away; what's ter be did?” While he was thinking, Sam heard a rust- ling in the bushes behind him, and the next instant Turk leaped to his feet, where he crouched and whined as if picsding to be fol- lowed, and on regarding him more closely Sam saw the wound upon the head, and also GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE, Setting it down stream, they fastened it to the girders, and pane Joe and Sam in the bow, they led their horses on board; but when they came to perform a like office for Sam's pony, Pug utterly refused to go on ard. * Curse the brute!” roared Nat, savagely ; “if he reaches shore he'll gallop home an give us aware 3 Drawing his pistol he aimed it at the pony. head, sending a bullet through his rain. The poor brute tossed up his head witha snort and acry of agony, and sunk beneath the water, turning it red with his blood. Meanwhile the hunters’ dogs had appeared in sight at the sound of the shooting. “Come here, doggie, doggie,” said Saul; **come here!” nee fe wary animals drew cautiously back. rack Saul fired at them, but missed his aim, while they instantly disappeared in the underbrush. “*Curse the brutes!” hissed he; “‘ wait until I get another plant at them.” No,” shouted Nat; “‘let the dogs go. We must get the prisoners to quarters before any one hears the firing and comes to see what it that his mouth was cevered with fresh blood. } means. “Great heavens!" ejaculated Sam, “Joe's been murdered!” Turk licked his hand and fawned upon him. “All right, old boy,” said Sam, patting his head, “T'll go. I know what you want.” Sam ran to the stable and saddled his pony. then freeing Snap, he mounted and dashed away atter the two dogs, who darted off ata swift pace. Presently Sam heard the dogs howling and whining piteously, and then he leaped from his pony and followed, On penetrating some feet into the under- brush, Sam found Joe lying face uppermost on the muddy soil. “I wonder how it occurred,” said he; “‘ they must have found him following and laid him out, the blasted murderous skunks, I warn- ed him to look out for em!” He had scarcely uttered the words when he heard a sound behind him, and turning, he saw Nat Gleason and Saul Slingsby close be- side him. “So you've killed him!” shouted Sam, re- garding the two smugglers with flashing eyes, “ What's that ?” demanded Nat. “*You know what I mean,” retorted Sam. ‘You know what he followed ye for and laid him out, but I'll block yer little game.” ** What do you mean?” “You know that ye stole his wife,” replied Sam, hotly, “and killed him so that he couldn't find out where ye hid her.” “Do you know, young man,” said Nat dry- ly, as his eyes lit with an evil light, ‘‘ that “Li allow your tongue altogether too much atitude? This outrage was not of our seek- ing; we had nothing to do with it whatever, we were looking for Joe ourselves.” “T don't believe it!” retorted Sam. ‘TI be- lieve you only meant to finish your devilish work; at any rate, you’re too many for me, so here goes to inform the proper authorities,” “Seize him!” shouted Gleason, with an oath; “it will never do tolet him escape— he'll give it all away.” In an instant the two men sprang upon the prostrate boy and seized him stoutly by the arms. Sam struggled desperately, and kicked and bit likea fellow, but the men were too strong for him, and in less than two minutes he was securely gagged and bound on the back of his pony. Then lifting up Green Mountain Joe, they placed him also on a horse, and, followed by ‘the dogs, who made no attempt tostop them, they started for the log cabin. CHAPTER XXI. SAM WILLIS’ ESCAPE. STRANGE as it may seem, during the melee neither Turk nor Snap attempted toaid their master or Sam Willis, but when the smug- — placed the insensible form of Joe and e boy upon the horses, they fol- lowed the abductors at a safe distance as rode away. o'clock struck as the last bar fell. } In less than two minutes the boat was safe across the stream and moored in the secret nook, near the house in the clearing. Then the priscners were’ removed dwelling, where Joe was pat in charge of his wife, who, by careful nursing, restor him to consciousness, but all to no purpose; the light of reason had fled, and he was a raving maniac, = = . Meanwhile Sam Willis had been conveyed to the cellar and tossed down upon a bed of straw. “This is decidedly a pretty kettle of fish,” said he, half aloud. “‘I wonder how the blazes I'm going to get out of it.” Getting up he stretched his limbs a bit, and roceeded to examine the door, which he ound was composed of oak, heavily studded with nails. *“*No chance that way,” said he; ‘*now for the window.” “The grating was composed of solid iron, but on examining further, he founda mallet and a chisel. **This will do,” said he, cheerfullyy*‘ but I must wait till night to attempt to escape.” Then hiding his firid beneath the mattress. he lay down and finally fell into a sound sleep. When he awoke it was completely dark, and by the striking of the clock above-stairs, he learned that it was ten o'clock. _ “Time to commence,” said he, and rolling up the straw mattress beneath the window, he commenced operations on the iron bars with the mallet and chisel. He worked cautiously but swiftly, and by eleven but two remained ; when sudden- ly he heard footsteps descending the stairs. His heart almost ceased its Beatin: was he to be discovered after all? Ha! a bright thought struck him; there was some bread left from the meal furnished in the morning by his abductors. Hastily descending from his perch, he moistened it in water, and rubbing some of the earthen floor into it, he replaced the bars and refilled thecracks with the paste; then replacing the mattress, he lay down, pre- tending to be fast asleep. . He had scarcely time to do so before Saul DUnEAnY entered, bearing a lantern and a blanket. ** Tt’s rather cold,” said, he, “‘ and I thought Td bring you down a blanket.” : “Thank you,” replied Sam, yawning as if he had ih awakened: “‘I was beginning to feel a bit cola pnyeale™ Saul flung the blanket over him, and went tothe grating, which he examined carelessly, “That's all right,” said he. “I brought you this, too; it will keep out the cold.” He tossed Sam a small tlask of spirits, and started toward the door. , “Couldn't you leave thd lantern!” asked Sam. “It's infernally dark down here.” “Sure,” replied the smuggler, “ there you are. Good-night.” **Good-night!” replied Sam, and then Saul went out, locking the docr behind him. A-few moments , and then takinga pull atthe spirits, he resumed work. Twelve to the a resent ed | man's ean | In reply the door burst suddenly open, Sam was nearly upto the opening when he again heard footsteps descending the stairs; but this time he was not so fortunate, for — before he could get down, Saul reeled un- steadily into the cellar. He was very drunk, but not so full as to prevent his seeing what had taken place. ** Hello, stop that!” shouted he, darting to- ward Sam. But Sam was ready; with a good aim he hurled the mallet at his head. The heavy wood struck the smuggler on the temple and felled him. This done, Sam crawled through the open- ing to the open air. Thank Heaven!” he See as he looked up at the starry sky, “thank Heaven I am c free! Hello, what's that?” & He felt something cold upon his hand,and looking down he found one of Green Mount- ain Joe’s dogs licking it; the next instant the other appeared. Looking around, Sam saw a window just above him from which a light ee It n stand- — was the window where Joe had ing when shot from behind, < semnbeTINE up on the bench, Sam looked in through the window. , ye CHAPTER XXII. HE saw a room with a table, chairs, the old ates noes and a bed, witha woman sitting ~ ae ide it. ° he saw her get up and lift 2 from the pillow. : ** Husband,” he heard her say, “I am so glad you have revived. You are better now.” “No,” moaned Joe; ‘*my eyes burn, my head is hot, my brain’s on fire.” Z ** My God,” moaned Sam, “‘ Joe’s as craey as a loon, but, thank Heaven, he ain’t dead Presently Joe ig again. “Let me up,” he gasped, “let me up, I must go to the mountain; the lead mine’s in — danger; it will be gone unless I go to guard ~ it. Nat Gleason'll steal it from us, Sadie; he has marked it for his own. He'll take the — mine and separate us as he has before!” = Walmsley clasped both her arms around her husband’s neck, and p him tenderly but a back upon the pillow. where she soothed his face with her hands. **Be calm, husband,” said she, firmly, “yo only injure yourself by the violence of your emotions ; you must be quiet !"" “But I must go, I mies he shouted, “ must guard the mine while living, or I must guard it dead!” ; His wife arose and went to the table, where za she poured something intoa glass, and held it to his lips. % He dr; it readily, and for a moment i quieted him, but the next instant he was as violent as ever. = ‘* Hist !” said he, sitting up, “‘lookthar!” He pointed directly at the window, through which Sam was gazing, with his white face pressed against the glass. Sam drew back, and ere hastily from his perch, and as he reached the ground, he co’ hear the maniac shriek: - ‘ “Tsee ye,Sam Willis! Sam Willis, come hyer, I say ig 3 * * * * * * It will now be necessary to pass over an in- terval of four months in the course of our story, during which period but a few events of importance occurred in Malbro. It was a cold night in January, 1840. : The snow was falling heavily, and Sam Willis, with his father and mother, was seat- ed near the fire in the Willis homes’ ‘ ae “‘Tt’s curious,” said Sam, “ what a change that storm occasioned up in the moun when I was up there last the trout-brook been completely turned from its bed, and formed a new course; not a trace of the lead mine was to be seen, and Green Moun Joe’s cavern was tilled with water. I wonder what’s become of him.” ““The Lord knows,” replied his mo “but, bless me, what was that ?” The remark was occasioned scratching sound at the door. E The ol fete es rose from the he: uttering a low howl as he sniff eas around, = “There’s something wrong outside,” old Willis, taking his rifle down from crotch over the mantel; “‘ who’s there?” by a mitting a blinding drift of snow to enter ~ m ished fox-b room, as two gaunt, half-fam’
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“bounded in, closely followed by Green Moun- in Joe. He was covered with snow, and his long ‘hair and unkempt beard barely served to _ hide his half-starved features, while his wild eyes roved unsteadily to and fro over the room. * ‘I’ve found you again, Sammy,” said he, _ fixing his gaze upon his young companion, ; **and you must come with me. I must go _upand guard the mine, Nat Gleason means to steal it from us.” ““Why, bless you, Joe,” responded Sam, there ain't a vestige of the mine left; it’s clean swamped by the line storm, and you couldn’t find it to-night if it wasn’t.” : “T tell you I can,” shouted the trapper. ~ “T tell you I must; it'll be too late in the mornin’, Sammy, too late in the mornin’ !” But he sat down, notwithstanding, and ate ahearty meal. During supper he told how he had been changed like a wild beast by Gleason, who had estranged his wife’s affec- tions ; he told how he had eluded their vigi- lance and escaped te go and watch the mine; and finally, by considerable persuasion, he was got to bed. @ But when morning came Joe was gone in, and so was the farmer’s rifle. **T’ll bet he’s gone to shoot Gleason,” said - Sam. 2 *T don’t blame him much if he does,” re- _ plied his father ; but we must try to find him _ all the same, for I don’t believe he can get pax in his present weak condition; so come ~~ along.” = a Ina few moments after they quitted the house they struck the trail. ~ There had not been a heavy fall of snow the prpvious night, and thus the trail was easily followed. ~ Sam beat out on the side track so as to avoid breaking the trail, for by this time they _ were on the mountain and close to Malbro Pond, as it is termed, a sheet of water about - amile long and half as wide. Just as they reached it, Green Mountain Joe’s dogs came tearing toward them like -mad, and then ran out on the ice, which was - but partially coyered with patches of snow, the rest having drifted off with the wind. As they went on, the two hounds turned with piteous cries and ran toward the center, “where they paused and bent down with their noses close to the ice. “JT wonder what’s up?” said Sam, turning pale. ‘My heart misgives me.” _ Then he went on again, but had to proceed with great caution, for the ice was like glass. - But finally he reached the spot where the 2 dogs rested. ao he did so they both uttered a wild, es i Beey howl, a ~ Sam looked down and uttered a cryin turn ' for right in front of him lay his fathers’s rifle and Green Mountain Joe’s fur cap. __ It was indeed too late! CHAPTER XXIII. = _ the poor crazed man. It was eae sure ce the moc- oe oe This "murder was committed by old -me-luck 5 ~ you know he had it in for us up in the mount- ains. Joe smashed his head at the Malbro Arms, and the old hound’s had it in for him - eyersince. This flask belongs ter him; I’ve ae Adams fill it time and again at the albro.” ~ -* Well, if that’s the case, it ’pears ter me as _if ye had got him down pretty fine.” “J should judge,” said Sam; *but there in’t no use lookin’ furder arter poor Joe until e ice breaks up in the spring; nor in at- ptin’ ter look up We-me-luck either, for t matter, as more’n likely he’s making a ead set for the Canada line at this very = ‘minute. GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE. * * * * * * _Months passed, and after decaying and rot- ting away at the margin, the ice on Malbro Pond melted and disappeared with the set- oo of spring. is break-up had been long anticipated, and quite a:number of the Malbro villagers were present when the change took place. “There she goes,” said Job Wormley, as a heavy blast of wind took the flimsy ice and sur its surface into undulating waves; “that’s the last of that ice for this season. Sure enough, the next instant a myriad of cracks split the shining mass, and, as it floated away in various directions, a ponder- ous dark object appeared amidst the debris, floating slowly toward the sbore. “That’s Joe, poor fellow,” said the con- stable,as many a sympathetic expression came from the crowd as they watched the swaying mass. But as it approached closer, the constable uttered a cry of surprise. _ ** What’s the matter?” demanded Squire Chase, who stood close at hand. ‘** Matter enough, squire,” replied the con- stable, as he seized upa boat-hook and ran to the bank, ‘‘ we’ve got two instead of one; there’s two bodies here.” A cry of surprise rent the air as the con- stable plunged the boat-hook into the cloth- ing and drew the noisome objects on shore. hey were the bodies of Green Mountain Joe and We-me-luck, and had evidently per- ished together, for they were closely inter- locked in each other’s arms. ; CHAPTER XXIV. THE remains of Green Mountain Joe and We-me-luck were buried in the Malbro churchyard on the day following the inquest, and within a week all conversation concern- ing the mysterious affair had ceased. fleanwhile, as spring verged into summer, Sam Willis resumed his hunting expeditions in the mountains. On these occasions he invariably took with him some provisions for the dead hunter's dogs, who since the loss of their master had remained constantly in the vicinity of the scene of his death, afapering around the pond and making night hideous with their cries and moans, It was on one of these excursions, in the early part of June, that Sam had remained in the mountains later than usual. It was about sixin the evening, on his re- turn home, that he found himself in Joe’s camp, near the place of the discovery of the vein of lead. Sam seemed considera ly sur- pee that he had wandered thither, for he ad hitherto avoided the spot, as it recalled too many unpleasant recollections, “This is the spot,” thought he, “‘ that poor Joe sot such store on, and what does it all amount ter now? Not a vestige of the find remains, and not a sign of poor Joe either.” Unconsciously Sam had muttered the last few thoughts aloud. _As he ceased speaking he heard a faint, low sigh behind him; and it seemed as if the leaves of the trees stirred and rustled above eins as if some one was passing through them. Just then a flight of owls swooped down hooting and flapping their noxious wings, an as the boy listened it seemed as if they were Boot to him: ‘‘Sam Willis, I see ye; Sam Willis, come hyer, I say!” In an instant Sam was on his feet, with his eyes fairly starting from his head, and the cold beads of perspiration pouring down his facein streams. = And thena much more startling event oc- curred. ; y p Again he heard the mysterious rustling and swaying of the branches, followed by the ghostly. sigh, and then as plainly as ever he ad heard it in his life, he h the voice of Green Mountain Joe: “ButI must go. I must while living, or | must guard it dead Poor Sam would have shrieked aloud had not his tongue refused its office. But again he heard the voice of Joe: “Sam Willis—Sam_ Willis, avenge m death, It was not We-me-luck that kill me!” **It was not We-me-luck?” demanded the listener, ** Who was it, then?” “It was—”" But the sentence was never ended, for just then the owls flew out from the hemlock ard the mine ie ag Ne 15 thicket close at hand, hooting anew, and it seemed to the startled boy as if their croak- ing found words in: : 3 “Sam Willis! Sam Willis! Isee you! Sam Willis! Sam Willis! Come yey I say!” “Great Powers!” ped he, “those were the very words poor Joe uttered the night I see him sitting up in bed when I escaped from Gleason’s.” 7 Again the owls hooted as the trapper’s voice faded with the rising breeze, and, to his intense surprise, he saw Snap and Turk, more famished and starved than ever, dart from the thicket as if in pursuit of their ghostly master. Poor Sam could stand no more; his nerves were giving way; his senses seemed deserting him as, with a cry of terror, he darted down the mountain as if pursued by a legion of fiends, CHAPTER XXV. JOE'S DOGS ON TIME, Two weeks passed, and it took Sam nearly that time to recover from the fright occa- sioned by the mysterious events in the pan- ther camp. It was a period of considerable excitement in Malbro. A great religious revival was going on ina . grove close to the Willis farm. People had gathered from far and near tolisten to the exhortations of a noted revivalist, who was ee the congregation from the pul- pit. He was a stout built, gray-haired man, with a long beard, and wore green goggles. He had reached the climax of his discourse, and was describing the sufferings of the tor- tured sinner with such glowing effect that many men groaned and groveled on the ground, while women fairly shrieked aloud. It was at this moment that a loud shout was heard from the rear seats, as two gaunt, famished fox-hounds, with blazing eyes and wide-distended, froth-flecked fangs, darted through the throng and sprang into the pul- pit. With a gasp and cry the exhorter darted back, placing his hands behind him; but be- fore he could make another motion the sav- age animals leaped upon him, burying their sharp fangs in his throat and bosom, “Great God!” shouted the constable. “they're Green Mountain Joe's dogs, and they’re throttling the life out of the parson.” In a moment others were at his side, beat- ing away at the dogs’ heads with sticks and a until they lay dying by the side of their victim. But they were too late, for the dogs had done their fatal work. They had torn awa the wig and beard from the speaker's head, revealing the features of Nat Gleason, the smuggler. 2 “«So it’s you, is it?” shouted the constable stamping his feet. ‘‘ Cursed if I afn’t sorry tried to save ye!” “You needn’t mind that, Job,” said Glea- son, gasping, as the warm life-blood poured in torrents from his lacerated throat. ‘* You only came to the aid of a dying man, and it can't do you any harm.” “*Don’t want any more of your preaching,” replied Job. “You're no good,” 7 I know it;” answered Gleason, wearily, but I swear as a dying man that I have re- pented for my crimes in tears of blood; but I could not finditin my heart to give up and surrender. But now that it’s all over, I'll make a clean breast of it. It was I that kill- ed Green Mountain Joe. We-me-luck and myself were making for a secret hiding-place in the mountains when we came face to face with Joe, whom I supposed safe at home under gu d. We-me-luck engaged with him in eadly conflict, and they were close to an air- hole in the center of Malbro Pond. The devil rompted me, and I shoved them in. I eemed myself free from the only obstacle to my marriage with the trappers wife, but Providence willed otherwise, for when I re- turned she was dead.” These were the last words of Nat Gleason, for the next moment he was dead. Sam Willis and others still live, but, note withstanding that himself and many others have prospected freely for that lead mine on the mountain side, no one has located it yet although occaSionally on stormy nights ’ol hunters in the mountains hear the baying of dogs, and mutter to themselves: “There go Tuck and Snap, guarding that lead mine with GREEN MOUNTAIN JOE,” [THE END.] > Fs aheed -
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‘ 4 979 Little ney Bounce; or, So Like His Dad—comic..... ..-by Peter Pad The Trove; or, The Buccan: the GUE ee spear eS 981 Alone on a Wreck; or, The ofa Scuttled Shi oe ise; or, Three $82 Dan Darling's Wacation=..cs-cceccoetes y H. K. Shackleford 983 Muldoon's a iacabeatie -by Tone Teaser $84 Luke Lines, the Bo Driver; or, Th Four-in-Hand of Keno eno Campby Paul Braddon 985 Jockey Jim Rider; or, Winning this F Fortune in me idle....... Robert Maynard 986 The Lost Boy Captain; or, 7 e Secret of the Hidden TDODE eS os ee by. r Starbuck 987 — sack Jarrett; or, How He Made His Poe teadosasstavores by H. K. Shackleford 988 Re Rivers the Ratt Boy; or, Driving : on the Missouri River........ T, Kounet 989 Muldoon the Cop, Part I.-comic.by Tom Teaser 990 Muldoon the Cop, Part II.—comic.......... by Tom Teaser 991 The Boy Wwxsokets or, The ons Pilot of the Breakers....:......... y Roger Starbuck 982 Born to pox Rich or, A Bo: ye eer Walls Sieuaenbae Feu H. K. Shackleford een Clipper of of 995 inne Boy La Fighting Stol oa, e y wyer; or, o 2 en BEiiion se sees eseaaereees by R. T. Emmet 996 i roman Bounce on His Travels— POS. Jc. Fandyeetasewcece by Peter Pad 997 The Little Black Rover; te SOD Privateer of New. York Oe eS Rattler Corporat ii 998 Pawnee Bill’s Oaths on The o oma Scout’s Lost Gold Gache.. .by Paul Braddon 999 Jimmy Grimes Jr.; or, The Torment of the sn eee +esee.-s-by Tom Teaser 1000 The tes of the Black Cave; or, The Mystery of the Hidden Lake by ee 1001 Through Thick and Thin; Ly ‘Abroad desresss se see ohamet te Bartren 1002 Jack and oe, 5 OF, Rackets se eee at School—co se Tom Teaser 1003 ae ae Shot; ‘or, , Butfajo ill’s Wild 1064 The a Mysterious 1 Light | Ship: pena tenes e Mysterious G r, The Sm Jers of the Death pAEhID} © Roger S tarbuck 1065 Muldoon’s Grocery Store—comic. Part I by Tom Teaser 1006 Muldoon’s Grocery Store—comic. Part IT. by Tom Teaser 1007 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Monitor of the Air; or, Helping a Friend in Need by “‘ Noname 1003 Goria OGrady Grit; or, The Branded rish Lad y Co: Retesres tporal Morgan Rattler 1009 eee Jr; a Silver King; or, or, The Richest ¢ in Nevada....... by “‘ Noname” 1010 Six Weeks in the Saddle; or, The Adven- ventures of a Boys’ Riding Sch OL fvecess = y RT. ponies 1011 The Traveling Dude; or, The Clinica ventures of mce Fitz Boy, Jones— noth Po Dye openers Seep eiT A by Tom Teaser 1012 Black Brow, the Pirate; or, The of the k by Roger Starbuck 1013 The Yankee Yacht Ge; or, Around the World by Water.. ...+..-by Geo. G. Small 1014 Frank Reade, Jr, J Or; The Chums of the Lost Isl by Roger Starbuck 1022 The Wonder of Wall Street; or, A Boy 10ng the Bulls and Bears.............. by H. So Shackleford 1023 The Unknown....... Sessions) Braddon 1024 <td eet Adventures of Se oe ys Betvencve y Roger Starbuck 1s Heid si Ba or thes of a Da- 1050 Pat ihe or A Hoy of Businessand Fas it; or, an —comic. el cata Sawaalee by Tom Teaser 4090 Bob Bright; or, A Boy of Businessand Fun ft PRA beers (ay Lilie, the Sut by All. Draper 1633 Folsoaad, ; or, Adrift on a eiédaecath Bes eae by Roger Starbuck LATEST ISSUES OF THE 5 CENT WIDE AWAKE LIBRARY: 1034 Dick Dart; or, The Fiend of Ee Revenue Cubterssysideeccstesdiecens rion 1085 The Boy Slave of New Yorks: or, aoe toa Huntéd- Mani 2oc2s wcactsetes cexoee by C. Little 1036 ‘Around the Vi World in a Sail Boat........... by Harry Kennedy 1087 Fred Fresh; or, As Green as Grass—comic by Tom Teaser 1038 Old Buckskin, the Man With the qseine Dogs; or, The Indian Scout’s we Hun b 10389 “ Sport,” the New York Bootb ack, SES 1040 Jeetrpeeded ni: or, From a oy Niblace @ Merchant. 20.00... cies. eee sece y C. Tittle 1041 A ooh on na heels: or, “ee Wonder of cane Coast........... by Roger Starbuck 1042 Truthful Jack; or, On Board the Nancy Jane. A Story Full of Lies—comic....... by Tom Teaser 106s The Gold Bowe or, The Demon of the Cascade. A Thrilling Story ot the Wild Northwest.......0csesecesees Paul Braddon 1044 The Boy Lion King; or, The ret of the jamond Caves..........ss.00 T. Emmet 1045 “7G of Dismal Swamp. <A Story of the reat South.............+50.. aS = oe 1046 The Castaways of phenla Fias of the Lava Caves....... wb roger Starbuek 1047 Billy Moss; ae From One ne erAw other =——{ONNIGisatsuisiciscackoudes = Brom the Teaser 1048 An Enginee r at Seventeen Bottom to the To 3 recbiyic 1049 eaeeees Carl; or, The Fictory Boy R. T. Tor met 1050 Gast Away With Cannibals; vA ths White of the Man-Eaters. e State Pacific.. rae EO J. S. Bradley Reade, Jr., in the Sea Discovery of a bie oF, Th by “ # onan” 1052 Pawnee _Bill’s oat Scout’s Best Trail hind 1054 The Skeleton Island; or, Und eae River....... by Se Starbuck 1055 The Pistol Prince; or, The Treasure of the ois Cee bse by Paul Braddon 1056 Locomotive Fred; or, Life on a Railroad... by aonard De Vere 1057 Dandy Dan of Deadwood....... he Sto Noname” 1058 Twenty Years on An Island; ar, ofa oung Castaway............ 1059 The Be Deseo n’s Boy; or, The Worst! x 1060 The Phantom Light-House; or, The Mys- tery of the Storm-Coast...by 1061 Dandy Dan of Deadwood, and the Fresh Front Brisco $i s2s secces oversees by “ Noname” 1062 The Rival Rangers; or, The ons of Free- QU eee eo ca. fount pants Sok J. G. Bradley 1063 Backbone Rob, the Boy of Pine or Mak- ing His wn Way Through the World. by C. Little 1064 hand Specter of the Pueblo; or, the Phan- Ne PEL TEENS by Paul Braddon 1665 Dandy Dan of Deadwood in anes by ‘‘Noname”’ 1066 Pawnee Bill’s Gold Hunt; or, heey by e Lost Paul Braddon y Berton Bertrew 1068 Stowaway Sam; or, A Crniax to the Bea of Guvbov gees lag conth Fee r Starbuck 1069 Sohuny. Brown & Co. at School; or, The Deacon's Boy at His Old Tricks—comic. . by Peter Pad 1070 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Greyhound of the Air; or, The Search For + Mount- ain 0 tg dpc. Soteacne se oeas y “* Noname”’ 1071 Dandy Dan of Deadwood, aon His Wi Ua sresssinyeocsan’ PF ““Noname” 1072 Go-Ahead Harry, the Boy Who Got There; or, Where There’s a Will, There’s a Be Lites e 1073 — SEED ‘or, The Prince e vEngi- aE rty ree by Howard De Vere 1074 The Boy Mate; os Cast Away With Con- Pee pee Seer fee rie ys «ius. Dy. Seats Three Hard Nuts Tom Teaser e Saddle J. G. Bradley Bo- k—comic 1076 Colorado Carl; or, The King of 1077 aml Dan of Deadwood and His B «b # oname”’ see eweeeeeee se eeeee 1078 The Lo: Lost Diamond Ship; or, A for an Unknown Lake........ by Starbuck 1079 Benny Bonne; or, A Block 0 the Old CRIMP —COMISsIs. coos ce sesecseecnes Peter Pad 1080 Nozzle Ned, ‘thie ‘Boy Fireman of Madison. 1081 “str Two Bo nee Kin, fe Hebert ios e,.Two ; or, An & me, i ae by Paul Braddon g His 1083 From Pole to ee or, Frank Heads Jes Strange Submarine Voyage. Aa ES “Noname” 1084 The ‘o Boy omnes or, A Summer With a Circus—comic.,........ by ag Teaser 1085 ane re ark of Mystery; or, Saved by yavesseduactse «-by Peal Braddon 1086 Stoadtase Sid, the Boy Who Never Surren- dered; or, Standing 'p for a Square Deai by C. Little 1087 Dick Daring, the Bo: Unkn Th Trail of the Death y- ny Rt, Emm Bars sale by all newsdealers in the United States and Canada, or sent to your address, Sasi on ape of price, Address 1088 ane ees c Island; or, The Strange of the Black Frigate Sarees by 1089 Dand pe of see sae is 1091 Old Oak Burrell, the OEE by Paul fgdon 1092 pone the Amazons. A Thrilling Story f the Interior of Africa......by R. T. | 1093 Afoat in a Tiger's r’s pees apes The Week ct ~ ‘ the enagert by Roger tarbuc 1004 Newsboxt Se a the Pavement to eA ey pe oN ake) by 6. Littl 1095 Frank ne Reade, Jr., and His Electric h; oral The Search for the Isle of Diamonds. : nd pcre pet ee cere “ Noname”™ 1096 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Eicctric Coach; or, or, thes Search for the Isle of Diamonds. 1097 Ha Ready, the Life Saver: | or, Wreckers of the ener or, 1099 Dandy Dan ai Deadwood ita fal The ultures of Montana.......... by * SNosaane “ 1100 The Black Fiend of the ned Sea; er, The Lost Girl of the Coral Ca’ by Koger Starbuck 1101 Muldoon s Hotel. Part I—comic....... 1102 Muldoon’s Hotel. Part II.—comic........ 1103 Dandy Dan of Deadwood in The Silver Moon Mys .by “Ni 1104 Fergus of the Fiail sor, aii "For Land 1 1105 Pawnee Bill’s Boys, AS ers of O +2 Baye Be 1112 The. Ship of” Silence: “or, ee. zreaxi bie League of the Black Later wabapotasokaner T Starbuck 1113 Fred Frost, the Young ana eT or, Bound to Reach the aorety Poleso3. 3% by Albert J. Booth 11u4 isn Bob; or, From Rags to Cotte 1115 Afloat in a Cannibal "Ship; or, ithe ested : War-Sloop of the Ladrones. ors ‘Starbuck 1116 The Boy Firemen; or, Stan Stank 42% e Ma- chine... ofacs chaser Hon as De Vere 1117 The Young Diamond "Seekers; or, Rough- ing it in the Carolina Mountains. 1118 ae Young Ri ade 1 Lost Gold That; or, A ep ext Miuete; or, The Pioneer’s wh 1123 weed Crusoe; ‘or, ‘The Trove of F2 con Key.........s..es by C. 1125 Sam Sureshot, the Skeleton Marine; or, _ The Lost Frigate of the Demon Isles...... by Roger ss 1126 Billy Button. the Young Clown and "a k Rider, A Story of the Circus....... An -by G. Small Fire-W orshipers; ores, New ys in Mexico...... by Berton Bertre 1130 The Rao 8 Son. Story Triumphs On and Off the Stage. 1131 ‘The Ocean Wolf. A Story 0 ok Perens: x s — ay. why George G. Sinai TW Hanchew 1133 Bound Boy Ben; or, Sold Tnto Slavery..... #4 Cc. 1134 Frank Reade Jr.’s Electric Ice Dost Lost in pate os of Crimson Snow. e Jr. Lost in the tant of 1136 Frank Reade Jr.'s Electric porilling Adventures in No 1137 Frank Read eset | Adventures in No seeeeeee wet eeneneeeee EUs UY. Electric Tce Boats on Crimson Sai