sauna.
[A Letter-.1

     
  
  
 
  
     
  
  
  
   
   
    
    
  
  
      
   
    
     
 
 
   
   
    
  
  
   
 
   
     
   
      
   
  
 
    
     
      
      
  
 
    
  
     
    
  
  
   
 
  
  
 
 
   
   
     
   
  
    
  
   
 
   
 
  
    
 
   
  
  
   
  
  
 
   
   
 
  
   
  
 
  
    
 
 
  
 
   
   
   
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
  
   
   
 
 
  
  
   
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
  
 
  
   
   
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
  
  

 

BY HENRI IONNALM.

 

 

You never knew the feeling, Jock.
I trust you never ma —

You’ve fought the good fight nobly,
And you have won the day,

While I who started at our side,
God help me! I have eat;

And now too late I sit me down
To count the fearful cost.

I’ve been sitting by the window ,
This lorious summer night,

And a t onsand osts they’ve come
From out the s adowy light.

I’ve felt the breeze of other days
Ugmn my fevered brow; -

1 An _I’ve been back in the dear old Past,

 "I‘m all that’s left me now.

 I thought—would that it might be l—
; That we were boys once more;
 I seemed to see my Childhood’s home
 Just as it stood of yore:
_ The old red house with gablcd roof,

All mossgrown and decayed;
The porch where oft at eventide

We watched the sunsets fade.

And right and left the fields of grain
Were just as fair to see;
And over yonder ’gainst the sky
Were the same green hills where we
Were wont to roam in olden time :
And at their feet the stream
Ugsn whose banks of afternoons
' 'e used to fish and dream.

Ah, how it all comes back to me
As if ’twere yesterday,
That morning in October
hen first we went away.
And how my mother clung to me,
And kissed my youthful brow;
And how my father pressed my hand,
So loth to let me go.

..«.mwm-.mmmw «mm  \  , a; -,

to me

 

The weeping willow at the gate
Sighed with the breeze of fall;

Stretched out its arms above us,
And blessed us one and all.

And then I lightly kissed them,
And said. good-by again,

And hurried ofi‘ to meet you

, Who were waiting in the lane.

I Went back often after that,
During the college days,

But. I somehow seemed to lose my love
For the simple country ways.

And of those who went away that morn
With hearts that beat in joy,

One never could‘come back again
The same pure country boy. I

And time and I have gone our way,
The cars have hurried through;

And all the while I’ve grown more false

0 what was good and true.

False, Jack to you, my dearest friend,
Who tried so oil; in vain

To lead me from the downward path
Back to the right again.

False to the dear old father
That put his trust in me;
False to the angel mother
Who loved me best of three;
The grass is green above their graves,
Yet I think to-night from Heaven
Their blessed love still comes to me
And tells me I‘m forgiven.

But dent-h, that cometh to as all,

It is not far from me;
. Ami I think’ that in my Father’s house

IVhere the many mansions be,

There are resting-places for us all.
Perhaps in His dear sight ‘

I have found my bitterest punishment ,
In the grief I ve felt to—night.

One crowded hour of glorious strife,"
’Tis all that now I crave;

Then let me meet a soldier’s death,
And find a soldier’s grave. ‘

And, Jack, when this is a “vanished hand,”
And mine “a voice that is still "

 

Of your loving, erring WILL

: The Velvet-Headed Clutch.

BY MARY REED CBOWELL.

" Wu. l"

 

 

 

 

' e wow» < «do:ku ‘

cigar nearly fell from between his teeth.
“ I’m here, sir.
on 2”

long to a noble man.

 

Wil. had Worked for years.

 

Annie Lisle!

 

Annie, and it’s of her I speak now.

to some one I can approve.

 

wedding-day.”
Mr. Lisle
menced, an
both while speakln
“ You understand
momentary pause.

 

he felt.

 

m disposal a great honor.

fastidious.”
Mr. Lisle’s cheeks flushed warmly.
“ You have heard aright.

 

pretty in face and form.”

but-—-but-”

 

asked, almost anxiously.

prophesy his answer.

if

You will think sometimes. in tpe twilight hours,

Old Mr. Asahel Lisle called out his compan-
ion’s name so abruptly that Wilbur Renton’s

What is it I can do for

There was a charming freshness and manil-
ness in the tone of Wilfs voice, and when One
heard it they decided at once that it. must be-

He was a fine fellow, and no. one knew the
fact any better than Mr. Lisle, in whose employ

. “What. can you do, eh? Well, in short no- 
 v tice, you can marry Annie Lisle, if you want
to H

This time the pen dropped from Wil. Ren-
ton‘s hands from sheer astonishment. Harry

The warm blood surged over his face, and he
looked across the office straight into  Lisle’s

eyes. , , .
‘ “ I don’t understand you'at all,” he said, 81m.

3A sly twinkle was in the old gentleman’s
keen gray eyes, but he answered, very demure-
, _ _

“I can easily explain, my dear boy. You
have heard me speak often enough of my niece, 7
She’s a
_ dear good girl, and I Want to see her married
I approve of you,
Wilbur Benton, and if you can, win my little
Annie’s affections, I’ll give her to you, and a
check for twenty~fivc thousand dollars on your

aused as suddenly as he had com-

watched Wil.’s face narrowly,
0‘ and when he had finished.
me now?” he said, after :1

But Wil. still looked the utter astonishment
When he answered, he spoke slowly.

“ I certainly comprehend that you have paid
me a high compliment, Mr. Lisle, and placed at
But I do not know
w y it is that it is necessary for Miss Lisle to
be presented with a husband in this singular
manner. I know, from what I have heard,
that she is qualified to be a wife for the most

Annie is refined,
educated, of an amiable disposition, and very
, “I know I ought to be grateful, Mr. Lisle,
“ You are not already engaged l” Mr. Lisle
A joyous laugh from Wil.’s lips seemed to

Natl. I am glad to say I am heart-free as

that l’ -

and dress for dinner at Mr. Lisle’s.

 

croquet balls.

copied the center of the floor.

two young girls in the big bay window.

eyes.

love with pretty Annie Lisle.

A._

girlish sweetness he ever had seen.

tor of the blue how she wore.

sweet, grave month she had. I «

of vivacious Annie. He knew‘oy

from those wondrous, amber clear eyes of hers.
Wil. found dinner very good that evening.

and sung his best.

Luna’s chair, ever gay and merry, and Wil.

 

* fighting for.

 

Winter had sped on, as if on icy wings
spring had unburdened herself of greenes
grasses and whitest blossoms, and now the for

winds blew coolly in the evenings.

 

summer they ever had experienced.

tains -—— and everybody -— except Wil. Renton
seemed happy as a lurk.

lead pencil between his teeth.

 

he was head and bee s in love.
' And not with Annie Lisle, either!

a blessing. . .
Of course, Wil. would have liked the twenty
:five‘thousand dollars ; to'be sure when he firs
met Annie Lisle he was elated at the though
:of the double treasure he might win.

poor cripple.
tally compare her irregular limp with Annie’

strong perfect limbs, and work for her till h

pected to take from .her cousin Annie.

eloquence in her conscious eyes, Wil. Rents

as being dogged, and then commented on it.

live.” v
Wil.’s cheeks flushed at the thrust.
“ No, sir,” he retorted, quickly.
never be a burden to me.
too wcl .”
“ Oh, it’s all cut and dried, then 1’”
His eyes he an to twinkle again.

willing.”

“ You’d better have taken Annie. She’s-ju

rich‘, mind you.”

Besides, he might admire Miss Lisle; she
might like him; what could be better than

Andnso Wil. Renton shut up the big Day
Book, and resolved to go to his boarding-house

A long, large room, whose front wasa huge
bay Window; whose side windows looked out
on a closeshavenvlawn, whose wickets and
mallets suggested delightful flirtatious over

Pictures of game, fruit and rareflowersr were
hung against the tinted walls; a carpet soft as
plush, of bright, cheery oak and orange, tinged
, with dashes of light pink; stable, with covers
for. four, with its sweeping crimson and white
satin damask cloth, and napkins to match, oc-

Altogether a very Cheery, cosy dining-room,
Wilbur Rentonthought as he chatted with
Mr. Lisle about the inevitable weather, and
looked very critically across the room to the

size was Miss Annie Lisle, that charming-
ly~beautiful girl, with a complexion all dainty
pink and pearl; with the jetty-black hair and
lashes and brows, and the large, lustrous, gray
She was very gracious to Wil., and he
felt sure, with a certain delightful agitation at
heart, that either with or without the check
for twenty-five thousand dollars for an incen—
tive, it would not be adifficult task to fall in

Then, with almost a tender pity for her, Wil.
turned from Annie’s radiant beauty toward the
slight, fragile girl by Annie’s side, who was so
quiet, so reserved; and yet, when she smiled
one 0 her rare smiles, Wil. was sure it was the
most perfect revelation of womanly purity and

She was dressed very simply in a. white al-
paca, with light blue trimmings, and in the
wondrously arranged masses of her pale, fiossy.
gold hair she had daintin fastened a bright
pink rosebud, and a geranium leaf in the cen-

Wil. could hardly tell what color her eyes
were, so persistently did she keep her head
turned from him. » But; he did know”th a
a purely Grecian profile hers was, and how fair
as a lily petal her checks were, and what on

And he knew, too, that she was lame; this
lovely girl, whose name was Lena Lisle—cousin
the mute,
and sign of theruby velvet-headed crutch that
stood, like a grim, faithful sentinel, beside her
, their.

‘But Lena didn’t seem to grieve over her mis-
' fortune, as Wil. was sure he would have done.
She was very bright and very sweet, and at
times he caught such merry glancss shining.

He laughed, and ate, and helped Miss Annie
and Mics Lena, and talked to “Mr. Lisle; and
when they adjourned to the parlor he played

Annie was flitting about from the piano to

made up his mind, as he heard her low, sweet
laugh, and watched her graceful figure, that
Mr. Lisle had indeed offered him a prize worth

vid, glorious midsummer days had come, when
the sky Was one wide blue arch, and the west

1 Everybody said it was the most delightful
Every-
body had bled them off to mountain-side or sea-
shore—Mr. Lisle and Annie and Lena had
been and were summering'in the \Vhite Moun-

And Wil. was very unhappy. This bright,‘
breezy July morning, man-fashion with his
feet on his desk, and his office chair tilted to
an angle of forty~five degrees, with his pen
stuck in the curls behind his right ear, and his

He was very unhappy, and the reason was--

, _ then he thought of her, and what were ob-_
jviously Mr. Lisle s wishes, Wil. was quitevexed
with himself. But when he thought of Lena’s
Lpreclmts face, every thought fled but perfect
ithankfulness that his fate had given him such

Then
gradually, slowly, and surely, Lena Lisle’s
is‘weet. self} crept into his" ininOst soul, and he
learned to know that instead of wooing the
.helréss, the beauty, he had been won by the

We must confess that, at times, VVll. had
‘ wondered if he would be ashamed of the crutch
she Wielded so gracefully ; and he would men-

free, gliding step; and then he would hate him-
self for the vile thought, and swear to himself
to guard his unfortunate darling with his own

could give her just such a home as he had ex-
80 un-
der the sweet sunnifying influence of Leno’s
love, as yet unspoken, save by the voiceless

was developing the best, the noblest traits of
his character, and he would smile at times to
think it possible he ever could have thought of
money winning him a wife. He told Mr. Lisle
the very day he brought his nieces home. He
listened, in a silence that Wil. resented a little

“ What on earth can you do with a lame
wife ? She’ll be a burden to you as long as you

“ Lena will
We love each other

“ It’s agreet between us, Mr. Lisle, if you are

the wife you want, Wilbur—gay, dashing, and

He stole a kiss as he spoke.

“ I was so certain you’d be disgusted because
I was lame. Oh, Wil., don’t ’ou wish I could
I 'alk, and dance like Annie— ike other folks?”

He felt a pang of pity for her, but he an-
swered her very cheerily: '

“ For your sake, dear, I’dgive ten years ofi
my life to have you as youso naturally long to
be. For -myself, I could not love you more
were you the queen of walkers and dancers.”

“ Ten years off your life, Wil. ! as if I could
spare it. And now that I know how you love
me, for myself alone, I am going to—” ‘

Instead of finishing her sentence Lena sprung
lightly from her chair, dashed away her crutch,
and waltzed down the room and back, flinging
herself in Wil.’s arms, half laughing, half cry-
mg.

“I wanted to prove you and win you if -I
could! I loved you so long before you knew
me.

Who could have resisted that ? Certainly
not Wil. Renton, who, in almost a panic of as-
tonishment, tried to realize she was not lame at
all, and had never been.

It was a. glorious surprise, and Wil. was
prouder than Pompey when Lena and he had a
jolly galop in the parlor, played by Annie’s
fingers.

“Shall we go to uncle Asa’s library, Wil. ‘?
He wants you, you know.”

Lena’s eyes were shining like stars, and she
linked her arm in Wil.’s as they entered the
room. ‘ ‘

Mr. Lisle looked up and smiled dryly.

“ Not so bad after all, ch ‘3”

“ I told you she never could be a burden,” re-
joined VVil., gayly.”

Mr. Lisle’s eyes were twinkling in theipecu-
liar way Wil. had often noticed when he was
interested. N ow he quickly handed Wil. a slip
of paper. = A

“ I’ll sign that on your wedding-day, my boy.
And now I know you will be the right sort of a"
husband for my little Lena. Annie ’11 do first-
rate, too; she’s engaged to Dr. Warner. There,
young-ones, scamper ;‘ I want to read.”

And lVil. saw a check in his favor for twen-
ty-five thousand dollars, while Lena, with her
laughing eyes—Wil. had long since discovered
their color, size, and shape—full of tears, in-
formed him that she and her cousin were co-
heiresses.

So Wil. didn’t do so ill, after all, did he ?

The Man ngom Texas:

THE OUTLAWS 6r ARKANSAS.

A STORY OF THE ARKANSAS BORDIR.

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN,

aurnon on "MAD nn'rnc'rrvn,” nocnv MOUNTAIN non,"
"' \VOLF DEMON,” “ ovnnnanm KIT,” “ RED
mznrra,” “ son on sranns,” “ nnAR'r or
man," “ wrronus ornnw roux.”

CHAPTER XXI.
“ THE YANKEE SCHOOLMA’AM.”

THE girl looked at the young soldierfor a
,moment, just a little bit of wonder in her face.

“ I see that you don’t understand,” he said ;
“ let me explain. It’s only a few feet. from my
. chair here to the door; three or four steps
,2 would take me outside, but my military expe-
_ ricnce has taught me that it is extremely diffi-
cult for a beaten army to make a successful re-
treat, and if you dorsay ‘ no,’ I shall be so com—
pletely demoralized that I am sure my retreat
will be a complete rout.”

“ Hadn’t you better retreat before you be-
gin?” asked the schoolmistress, smiling in the
face of her lover.

' “ Oh, no, that is impossible now i” he ex-
claimed, earnestly; “like the hero of the an-
cient tragedy, ‘ returning were as tedious as to
go o’er.’ ” ~
I“ ‘ Be either rears his fate too much,

Or his dcsert’s too small,

That puts it not unto the touch

To win or lose it all,’ ”
she repeated, still smiling.
“ Those are my sentiments exactly l” be ex-
claimed, quickly. '
“ You noticed that I hesitated before I re-
plied to your knock ‘2” she asked, abruptly,
changingthe subject. ,. _

“Yes.” , w, a, , . ,r
“ Do you See those, bullet-holes '2” and the

 

 

 

 

 

)

’which were three or four little, round holes,
about the size of a revolver bullet. _

- Winnie got up from his chair and examined
t the marks, with considerable astonishment
t manifested in his face. ' >
“These are bullet-holes!” he exclaimed, in

amazement. .
,‘f Yes; did you have‘any, doubt upon the sub-
jec‘t ‘3” ,

“I thought that you were joking.”

“ Come and sit down, again and I will explain
why I hesitated to open the door.”

Winnie resumed his seat.

“I had been here just two weeks, and you
s can judge how lonely I was when I tell you
that there were. only some three, or four white
people who condescended to notice the negro
school-teacher in the whole village ; one of my
scholars had about frightened the life out of
me, that afternoon, by informing me that he
had heard some of the young men at one of the
saloons debating upon the propriety of warning
me to leave town. That evening, about half-
past eight or nine, I sat sewing jug} where you
sit now. I ‘confessI wasn’t doing much work,
for my eyes were blinded with tears half the
time as I thought of my cozy little New Eng-
land home, and then reflected that I was so

e

 

n

in this heathen country.

St
9’ .
away.

girl pointed to the door, in tlieviupper part of»,

many miles from that home, away down here
And then, just as I
was, meditating upon whether there was any
danger that the higlntoned gentlemen of this
place would think proper to molest a helpless
and unprotected woman, I heard the clatter of
horses’ hoofs; then they halted, and I heard a
coarse voice cry out, ‘ Riddle the cursed shan-
ty l’ and then the bullets came rattling against
the house and some came through the door. I
- sunk down upon my knees; I don’t suppose
that I am a very religious girl, but I prayed
then with my whole heart, for I thought that
my last hour had come, but, after they fired
the shots, they gave a loud yell and gallopcd

“ The curs l” muttered Winnie, in contempt.

    
     
      

yeti? . .
want you to see Annie, anyhow.” a
He arose to go, but Wil. detained him. - '
“ One moment.
of this projected arrangement ?”

tell her}: .
ing it over in his mind. Twenty-five thousand

awa down in her country home.

 

     
 
  
 
 
 
    

  
 
  

“Then, come around to dinner tonight. I

Miss Lisle does not know
“ Not a word. And she shall not until you

Would Wil. go? For two hours after Mr.
Lisle went away he leaned over his desk, turns

It would make him independent ; he could buy
for his old mother the cottage she lived in,
He could
so Phil to college, and start himself in busi-

married for money, and was be such a mode

ness.
. Why shouldn’t he marry her? Other me
’y  he stipuld fling it away if it came within‘fi

“ I know it, sir, and I regard Miss Annie as
a rize for some lucky fellow ; but I assure you
I’d) rather have my little lame Lena, a thousand
times." ‘ '

“ Crotch and all, and be poor as a church
mouse?” ‘ .

Mr. Lisle spoke very dryly, and Wil. bit his
lip to retain any unbecoming language.

When Mr. Lisle passed Wil.’s desk that after-
noon, on his way home, he noddedat Wil.
l “ Run down to-night. I suppose it’s to be, no

matter What I say.” A t

 

_“ You are sure you’ll never regret this,
Wil. ‘1’” , ‘
Lena lifted her eyes to her‘lover’s face as he
leaned over her invalid chair, toying With a
loose curl on her neck.

 

here.

 

“Lena, darling! how dare you ask me such a
question i” -

“ Yes, it wasn’t a very brave act for men to
perform, but it really resulted in good to me,
for naturally the young men boasted of their
bravery; it was the talk of the whole village
the next morning, and I was surprised by a visit
from six or eight of the leading men of Smith-
ville at noon, in my school-room, headed by
General Smith and Mr. Fayette, the banker.
They made all'sorts of apologies for the cow-
ardly act, and said that I mustn’t think the in-
habitants of the city at large countenanced such
infamous proceeding—they call this place a
city, you know. And, both General Smith and
Mr. Fayette tendered me the offer of a. room in
either of their houses as long as I should stay
Of course I thanked them for their kind.
ncss, but, declining their offer, I told them I
preferred to remain in my own little home.”

“ Pluck!” exclaimed Winnie, in admiration.

“No. stubbornness,” Marcie replied. “If I

had been let alone I should have gone away, for
I was so lonesome and homesick, but, after the
cowardly attack, I determined that they should
not frighten me away. They might kill me if
they liked, but I would not fly from their
threats.” 1 ‘ . j ‘

“ Have you ever been troubled since then ‘2”

“No; the attitude that General Smith and
five or SIX of the other leadin men of 'the vil-
lage ,tpok had something to do with it, I sup-

ose. - - -

“But, you thought that there was danger
threatening when you heard me ride up to-
night?”

“ Yes; this afternoon old Uncle Snow came
to the school-house, just as I had dismissed the
scholars,and told me that'I must be careful, for
he had heard talk among the negroes that
threats had been made against me again, and
that some of the blacks would like to come up
armed and watch my house every night if I was
willing. Of course I told them that I did not
Wish them to do that, but if he was sure that
there was any danger I would send for-General
Smith.”

“And have you sent for the General ?”

“ N ot yet. I shall send to-morrow morning.”

“ What ever induced you to leave your north—
ern home to come down to this half—civilized
country?” asked Winnie, in amazement.

“ Money,” was the candid reply. “ I am
poor; 'my father was wounded in the war and
1s a supple for life; my little sister and mother
have managed to get a sewing-machine and so
supported the family. I am not strong enough
to cam my bread in that way, and when I got
,the chance to teach I regarded it in the light of
h. blessing, even though I had to leave home
‘aud friends and come to this place where I am
almost as much alone as if I were on a desert
island. I am only engaged for a. year, and
when my time is up I shall be, able to carry
quite a nice sum of money home, for I get a
very good salary indeed; I shouldn’t have come
if I hadn’t.” _

“ At the end of the year you will be free i”

(( Yes." \ - x

“ Well, Ican offer
nlc said, soberly.

:‘ A situation i” Mercle exclaimed, in sur-
prise. . I

“Yes; I’ll give you your board and clothes
and spending money to do housework for me
for all the rest of your life, and pay a minister
to seal the bargain besides.”

The schoolmistress laughed.

“ You don’t know much about me,” she said.

“ And you don’t know much about me,” he
replied ; “ so we are even there.”

“ And you are a soldier.”

“ Is that an objection?” .

“ Yes; I will never marry you as long as you
are in the army,” she said, firmly. “When I
marry I want a little home of my own, even if
it is no larger than this.” .

“ You’re right,” he rejoined, thoughtfully ;
“the wife of a soldier has to choose between
her" husband and a home; she can not have
both. Well, I’ll resign, and I can with honor
too. There’s a bill now in Congress to reduce
the army to a‘ peace footing, and the officers
who choose to resign will be allowed quite a
handsome sum, about a year’s pay, I believe. I
am a carriage-maker by trade. We’ll select
some pretty town ; I’ll start a wagon-shop and
settle down. Will that do i” v
“ I haven’t said ‘ yes ’ yet,” she protested,
smiling.

“Ah, but I know that you mean to say it or
you Would have said ‘no ’ long ago.”

“ It must be nearly nine,” she said, abruptly ;
“if any one should see you leave the house
what a scandal it would create.”

“ Not if I could proclaim myself your aifian-
ced husband ; come now, you must say yes.”
“Well, if I must, I suppose I must: yes I”
and then, with a sad smile, she held up her lips
to be kissed. '

, Half an hour afterward the young soldier de-
parted, feeling extremely happy.

The girl watched him from the open door-
way until even the sound of his horse’s hoofs
died away in the distance; then, closing the
door listlessly behind her, she resumed her seat
by the table and gave way to dreamy medita-
tions. .

From the reverie she was rudely aroused.
The door swung suddenly open, and an ugly
little man bristling with weapons strode into
the room. The intruder was Yell Ozark, the
5 Arkansas outlaw I ~

you a situation then,” Win-

 

 

CHAPTER XXII.
‘ TRAPPED BY A WOMAN.
- THE girl raised her eyes in astonishment
when the outlaw entered the room so abruptly,
but she did not rise from her chair.

Ozark banged the door behind him; then
drew a revolver from his breast, cooked it, and
leveled the shining tube directly atthe girl’s
head.

Coldly the blue eyes of the girl gleamed, but
she did not, quiver nor. even move; her face
was like marble, so cold and While.

“You’re the Yankee school-marm, I reckon l”
cried the outlaw, boisterously. V

“I am Miss» Adan? the school-teacher,” the
girl answered, cold .3 an iceberg, and not be—
traying the least sign of fear. »

“And you’ve come down hyer fur to teach
the nigs, dog-goned thar black hides l” exclaim-
ed the rufiian, fiercely. » 

“ I teach a colored school,” Mercic said, and
just a little tinge ofsred appeared on her pale
checks.

"‘ An’ that’s what’s the matter 1” Ozark ex—
claimed, facetlously. “Do you know who I
am ?))

“I do not think that I have ever had the
pleasure of seeing you before,” the girl replied,
coolly, calmly, and with perfect self-posses
sron.

The outlaw was staggered by the girl’s calm-
ness. He had expected a torrent of tears and
pitiful supplications for mercy; but, instead,
the girl looked him full in the eye, never quiv-
ered at the sight of the leveled revolver, al-
though it was perfectly apparent that a single
motion of his finger would send the leadcn ball
crushing through her forehead.

“ Wal, you’re a cool hand, my beauty, any-
how i” Ozark muttered,and just then he caught
sight of a glint of fire in the cold blue eyes, and
a single tremor of the thin lips, which warned
him as plainly of danger as though the signs
had been translated into words.

“Look out! don’t try that l” the outlaw
ejaculated, hurriedly. “ I kin put a ball plum
through you afore you kin wink if I feel like
it i” a ’

“Don’t t What i” asked the girl, moving
neither han nor foot, but the ominous light
still shining in her eyes.

“What you’re thinkin’ about? You can’t
play any tricks upon me, I reckon l” .

“I have not thought of playing any tricks
upon you,” the girl replied, a contemptuous
look upon her face. “I was only thinking
what a mean, cowardly ruflian you must be.”

Had the girl risen from her seat and struck
him in the face with her thin, wlnte hand, dc-
spitc the threat of the leveled revolver, Ozark
could not havebeen more astonished than he
was at the scornful words.

 

hail of the hunters rattles against his ironclike
frontlet. ' " ’ ' A

“ Wal, now, you’re kinder hoopin’ it up live-’
ly, am 1; yer l” he "exclaimed, in profound as-
tonishment. “You’re jist the sarciest gal, I
reckon, that I ever did run‘across! Look
hyer! , don’t you know that all I hev to do is to
pull thetri‘gger of this hyer pop-gun and thar’ll
be gpe nigger school-mama the less in Arkan-
sas ‘ ’ * ' ‘
“ I am not at all afraid

f‘of on ” was the
scornful retort; ' y ’

“ it requires courage to com-

»mit a murder, and I“, do not believe that the

’man who is coward enough to' bully andjhreat-
en a defenseless woman can possess nerve
enough to risk‘sthe gallows.”

I “I’ll be dog-goned if I hav’n’t’a good mind
to put a hole right plum ,thrOugh you fur bein’
so durned sarcy i” cried the outlaw, exasperated.
“Look a-hyerl I’m' Yell Ozark, I am! I’m
the terror of this hyer State, and I’ve wiped out
more men than I’ve got fingers and toes.”

If the outlaw had expected that the an-
nouncement of his name and deeds would
strike terror to the heart of the girl he was
woefully disappointed.

Not a muscle of her face changed. Steadily
she looked in the outlaw’s face, scorn in the
curl of her lips, and undaunted courage in the
gleam of her eyes. ,

“ I’m the man that'has-neVer surrendered l”
he continued, boastfully, “ an’ I don’t mean to,
either. I have fit the idurned Yankee Govern-
ment. single-handed, an’ I ain’t whipped yit.
All I want is my double-barrel an’ a handful of“
bucksbot, an’ 1 kin whip weight in Wild-
cats every time. ‘ I kin jest salivate ’em, I kin 1”
“If you can fight as well’ as you can talk,
you must be a very doughtywarrior,” the girl.
retorted, contemptuously. ‘

“ See hycr, young gal; you’re jist temptin’
Providence a-sarcin’ me in this liye'r way!” the
outlaw said, quite seriously. : “ Ef I had really
come fur to wipe you out, I wedldn’t hev stood
so much jaw from you ;' ’sicles, -I’d”'a’ had my

' gun along; I never travel fur without that

we’pon, but I’ve just dropped in fur to guv you
a friendly call like, an’ a leetle bit of a warnin’.
I fight men, I do, not Wimmen-folks.”

-“ As I said before, I am not at all afraid of
you,” Mercie again reminded him.

“ Wal, I reckon you’ve got ‘the grit of a wild-
cat l” exclaimed Ozark, just'a little bit of ad-
miration in his voice. “ An’ now for business,”
Ozark said; “I’ve constituted" myself a com-
mittee of one to request you to cl’ar' out of
these hyer parts. The nigs know too much
now, an’ I’ve jest made up my mind to shot up
all these hycr durned School-houses, an’ new I
jest warn you to git up an’ dust.” ’ '
“You mean that you wish me to go away
from Smithville ?” ‘
“ That’s my platform 1”

“And if I do not go?”

“ I’ll, put a load of buckshot, clean through
you some of these hyer mornin’s when you’re
gwine to your durned old school-house i” cried
Ozark, fiercely, and, as he spoke, he let down
the hammer of the revolver and thrust the
weapon into his belt:

“ And you order me away because I teach
the negroes ?” 7

,“ Yes; the dog-gonad nigs‘know too much
a’ready. I’m jist gwine to stop the hull thing.
I’ve made up my mind to shot up every nigger
school in this hyer county, of it takes me all
my time to lay in the bush an’ shoot the teach-
ers,” Ozark said, with an air of, determination.
“ I reckon, though, that I won’t have to do
that, for I ’spect my warnin’ to‘ quit will be;
enough.” ‘

“ Do you ever read your Bible ‘8” the girl
asked, suddenly. .

The outlaw stared at the question.

“ Wal, I reckon I ain’t got sich a thing,” he
had to answer. ' ‘ . ‘

“ Let me give you one.”

, The girl rose from her seat, opened the draw-
er of the table, which was between her and the
outlaw, drew out a revolver, cocked it in a se-
cond, and leveled it full, at the breast of the
outlaw. ; , .

For almost the‘first time in his life Ozark
was cornered. The first Suspicion of the danger
that he had had was when he heard the“ Clio ”
:of the lock as the girl, drew back the ham«
'mer. _ .
A long, convulsive breath came from between
the rulfian’s lips. Bold, desperate ,man that he
'was, he dreaded to die, like a. rat in a trap by'
the hand of a woman. ._ A ._ ’ ,
,“ Give me your word never to attempt to
molest ' me, or else pray to Heaven , to have
mercy upon your soul l” thegirl said, in a low,
determined voice. , _ : , V I . '

“ You won’t dare to fire ‘2” Ozark muttered.
“ As Heaven is my judge, I will I” the girl re-
plied. “If you do not give. me the promise, or
if you attempt to move, I will kill you with as
little mercy as I would a wild bcast.”

“ An’ you would trust my word not to worry
, n , . .
3 er? Yes.» ' I . ‘

“ All right ! it’s a bargain, then,” Ozark
cried, abruptly. “I ain’t afeard of death, but
I’ll be darned ef I’d like: to be wiped out by
you. Paddle ahead with your nigs; may I be
skinned by Wildcats of I tech ye 1”

And then the outlaw turned abruptly around
and plunged through the door into the dark-
ness, while Mcrcie, saved by her own brave act,
fell in a dead faint to the floor. ‘

‘r

 

CHAPTER xxm}
HOMEWARD.

“ I'r’s all settled up, J udge,” Howard said as
he entered the little offiCc which the old law-
yer had taken possession of so unceremoniously.

The overseer,'Tcxas,followed Howard into
the apartment. "

“It’s all right, then ‘2” General Smith ex-
claimed, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

“ Yes ; the points you made, Judge, were too
much for Foxcroft, and he was glad to get the
chance to compromise the matter,” Howard
answered.

“And did he accept it all as law and gos-

pel ?” Yell asked, a bland smile upon his fat
face.
’ “Well, it was a little hard for him to swal-
low ;_ but I assured him'that you knew the law,
and that it would require a trial even if your
points were not tenable,” HOWard replied.

“ He’s a bigger fool then than I thought he
was,” Yell remarked; “after I had started
Johnson over with the papers, I was a leetle
afraid I had put it too strong; and yet he nev-
er smoked it,eh f” and then the Judge laid
back in his chair, and indulged in a series of
short, dry chuckles indicative, of extraordinary
mirth.

“ I don’t see how in thunder you kept your
face so well in the Court-room,” Howard ob-
served in a tone of wonder. “ I come near
snorting two or three times, right out I”

The General and Texas had listened in as-
tonishment to the words'of the tWO lawyers;
and then, after Howard finished his observe.»
tion, seeing him sit down in a chair and laugh
until the tears came into his eyes, the truth in-
stantly flashed across the minds of both the
lookel's on.

Smith got up from his chair in extreme ex-
citement.

 

 

He shook his head for a moment in wonder,
just as the buffalo-bull does when the leaden

“ You don’t mean to say that the outrageous
conduct of both of you in the court-room was

 

 

 

.53 _.

Donne-r.