pers and see what else you have on board that Iawant!” announced Spirifort, starting to enter the cabin. _ x “ Great Heaven! Are you pirates?” “ That is what imprudciit peo le call us.” “ Mercy! Spare our lives! such a cargo as this is any good to you, take it, and then let us 0!” . “glt is a capital cargo for disguise, hght and easy to get rid of. But the other thing mu 1: so sensible! If we let you Off you’d send back to Halifax and start every man—o'—war on the costs: after us. Our motto is, ‘ Dead men tell no fales . A secret buried ,at the bottom of the sea is sure to be well-kc t. , The ca and crewof the brig had been seized an bound the Spirifortelgayézntglie order: so the were power ess in ev : . x. Not a sail was5in sighton the ocean. An in the stern. almost savage, faces around them they saw “01811:; 'were silent—all but their captain, and it was the silence of despair. _ “ We will solemnly swear not to divulge how not to say one word that Will we lost our carng _ “ ‘ ‘ endanger you!” cried the captain. Spare our lives and you will not regret it. I can even put you in the way of finding ten thousand dollars In ‘ 'I‘I “ Fool! We have treasure enough in yonder craft to sink every soul of you a thousand fath- oms deep without our feeling the loss. _ Ii e are ballasted with gold and silver. Think Over your prayers—for you’ll soon be past saying them!’ The captain groaned, but made no further an- swer. Meantime, while the pirate crew were transferring O to their own craft, Spirifort went into the ca in of the brig to get her papers and anything else he saw worth‘havmg. He knew by what his prisoner had said that there must be a small amount of ie hidden some- where on board, and perc ance, little as it was, he thought of adding it to the pirate treas- u . lBapidly the decks of the transmogrified Diab- locito be u to assume the appearance of a lum- ber—dro er. . Stave: puncheons and boards were piled high above her guns, and enough taken in below to make the appearance of a full hold, though in reality the quarters of the crew were not short- ened to their discomfort. All this work occupied even that large crew nearly half that day, and in all this time though several sails of vessels were sighted a long dis- tance oflf, none came near enough to show their buns \Vhen the cargo was in, Spirifort turned to the unhappy crew of the stripped brig. “What is our choice, men, to die by water or fire?” he as ed, in a matter—of—fact way. “ If you choose water, you will take one plunge and allis over. If on say fire—with no chance of escape you wil roast, for I shall fire this brig fore and aft, above and below, and lay by her till the last spar and lank is gone.” “ Do your accurseci) work at once, and may the curse Of widows and fatherless children fol- low you down to eternal perdition!” shrieked the captain, who saw no hope in the sneering, fiend— ish face of the pirate leader—none in the crew, except perhaps in one who dared not inter- cede. “ Bring u a piece of kentledge* from the run— Twent o the pirates rushed below—some for- ward, 0t ers into the cabin. While the men who went into the hold for- ward found the heavy iron they went- to seek, those who went into the run under the cabin found something better. . _ With a shout of joy they returned bringing four canvas-bags of silver dollars, w ‘ch they laid before the captain. . “ So ho! This is your ten thousand-dollar spe~ cie offer?” said Spirifort to the unhappy captive captain “ You see we have found it without your assistance!” “ Curse you, yes! But it will do you no good. It may help to sink you deeper than ever we will sink!” “ “’e’ll see! Boys—get the lank ready—bal- last them dowii and overboa with every man. Save the braggart captain to the last!" The instant Spirifort gave the order, ready hands began to work. While some of the sailors moved their lips in silent rayer, others begged for life; still others filled t e air with bitter curses. But soon all was over. Man after man with a piece of heavy iron ballast bound to his body, was placed on a plank which extended out over the bulwarks of the veSSel. The inner end was raised and the helpless victim was dum over into the ocean. A sullen plunge an he was gone forever—death and burial but a single act. Last of all—no one went to his fate more bravely than the merchant captain. His last words were a bitter and scathing prayer for God to send down his heavimt curses on the heads of his inhuman murderers. The instant the last of the brig’s crew was out of sight Spirifort, with fiendish glee, shouted: “ All ready now to cast off the schooner and make sail!” Seeing his ,order attended to. with his Own hand he set the brig on fire both forward and aft, starting the fires below where they would spread swiftly. Then, sprinng to his own deck, he gave the order to cast 0 ', and soon the schooner was again standing on a southern course, leaving the brig a mass Of flame which, before they Were out of sight, had finished her destruction. Aided by a man who was a skillful penman, though before the mast, Spirifort now had the papers of the brig so altered as to suit the schooner in name and rig, so that he could enter any rt he chose on the coast, and Show a regu- lar c earance and manifest. lVith his guns hid— den and his decks heaped with staves, puncheons, and other lumber, no ordinary Official would sus- pect him to be other than what he professed, es- cially as he intended, if overhauled. to class a arge part of his crew as passengers going South to at work and change of climate. at night, after the crew were all settled down to the new state of things, and had got a littleused to a deck-load, the captain approached Marvel, who had just been relieved on watch by the second officer, and said: ‘fnl‘. Marvel—I’d like to see you in the cabin. It is tune that you and I had a full and complete understan ‘ 1” “ All right, sir; I am ready!” responded Mar- "91, COOHY. the way toward the cabin. CHAPTER XXI. WHAT SPIRIFORT BABES TO DO. “ MARVEL,'we have been friends too long to bocomc encmies now!” was Spirifort’s first; re- mark after they reached the cabin. “ And you are aware. too, that I do not long allow an enemy of mine to stand in my wa ,” “ I undcrstand what your last remark implies, Captain Spirifort, and feel assured that, were I not necessary to you as a skilled navigator. I would not ho long-lived under any circum- stances.” “I don’t think my past trcatmcnt of you 'usti- fies that rcmurk. Mr. Marvel. But I call on d0wn to try and smooth ovcr matters, an to get back on the samc footing wo were on before you ot me angry tlu- other day.” “ ow‘did [get you angry! ll'c had had no words, that I am aware of. until you broke in upon me when I was talking with one of the best of hiiman beings!” “ Yes, and in that conversation. which I acci- dentally overheard, you were revealing secrets before unknown to me—in fact, telling her that you had a mother and sister in Baltimorc. and revealng to me, by your words, that you was the author Of a letter which gave to me the character of a devil rather than a man—the letter of warning to Mrs. Ridgewood and her daughter Sadie. Was not that discovery enogu‘gh to anger me—hot—tempered as I naturally am “Perhaps so! But now, answer mc.’ Have you ever spared a woman who fell into your * Kentledge—lron ballast, cast-iron pigs. every sense. The latter 1: but he did not live long enough to injure his rival, for Spirifort heard his bitter words and put a bullet through his head. A mutineer never met any more power-—no matter and innocent ?”. “ I cannot say that I have. But must a man always be a fiend? Is there not a time when he can reform-when, influenced by a love such as he has never known before in all his wild life, he‘can become changed—plan to quit a career Of crime, become virtuous, and, fairly and honorably wooing a worthy maiden, as fairly and as honor- ably wedding her?” S irifort had replied in a tone so earnest, and wi a look that seemed to second every word he uttered, that he might have deceived any one who did not thoroughly understand his depraved and heartless nature. But he spoke to one who had known him long and had never seen but one good trait—perhaps manly is a better word than good there—and that was bravery in his nature. S irifort was recklessly brave, and never flinch- etf, no matter how a battle was going. This alone drew his followers to him, and they both admired and feared him _ Marvel smiled while he shook his head in doubt. “ Captain!” he said, “ you have often told me on were born in a pirate’s cabin on the old ortuga, and never knew or cared to know a. better life. Am I to believe what you have always said, rather than what you now utter? I have read that a death-bed repentance was of no avail, and this sudden change, after so many years,,looks dubious, to use the mildest expres- sion.” “ Well, well—I will hold no argument with you on that point now. I want a plain answer to two plain questions. Is not the Madame Rid wood, whom I met in Baltimore, your mo er?” “ Yes !” replied Marvel, coldly. “ Then of course her lovely daughter is your sister l”» “ YES!” answered Marvel, growing more stern. “If on love them, as I should judge you do, from t e way you spoke of them to that fair- faced girl on the coast of Labrador, would you not rather your sister should be the wife of an honest man, who could place every comfort and luxury of life before her, than to live as now without a protector in the world beyond a mo- ther in delicate health?” “ I do not know what right you have to thus question me.” “ I assume the right. I love your sister, and for her sake I purpose to become an honest man ——to leave this life forever and with the wealth I own individually in our common treasury to purchase an estate and perhaps a title in Italy or Spain, where I can live a new life!” “ The 'cture is very pretty—but you seem to assume t t you can have my sister’s love and hand for the asking. DO you think my sister or mother would touch your hand if they knew that it had been reddened by the blood of more than a thousand victims?” “ When they know their son and brother is a pirate, but wishes to reform, they will not be very apt to hesitate. And I flatter myself that your mother was well pleased with me, and the daughter surely evinced no dislike l” “ Because they believed you a brave and noble officer in an honorable service. It is no use, Cap- tain Spirifort—you had better give up that chase and stick to your old and natural life!” “ And give you a discharge, or let you desert and go back and wed that Lily of Labrador and live the life I covet while it is denied to me? You must think Lain losing my wits. Either I marr your sister, or you will remain a pirate, and t e fair girl in Iabrador will pine in vain for another sight of her lover!” This was spoken in a tone too serious and ear- nest for Marvel to doubt that Spirifort did not mean all he said. He paused before replying. He wanted time to think. He would dissimulate. “ I will think it all over,” he said to Spirifort. how pure or lovely, how good present plans.” intend to test my disguise by runnin or New York, ostensibly to lay in some more provisions for a West India voyage. I will lay off at anchor and see how our papers work, if they are inspected at all. While there I will run down in person to Baltimore to see how the land lays, and if the ladies are still there. Of course I shall go in disguise, and what I learn on that visit will determine my future course. Alone I could do no wrong, even if I wished to, without exposing myself to ruin and all my plans to fail— m Marvel drew a long breath. He was plexed. He knew not what to say or do. 1‘. e latter would eit er ut him out or so confine him that opposition would not avail. “ Your plans seem feasible!” he said. “ Of course you would not object to my going to Bal- timore with you—disguised so no one would re- co ' me that had ever before seen me.” ‘Most decidedly I should Object, for there is no one else on board whom I could safely leave in command l” “ As you will.” Marvel spoke as if he was resigned to the course the chief meant to take; but from that instant he resolved to escape from the vessel on the very first opportunity, and to devote his life to the protection of those whom he had almost for otten in the wild life he had so long been lea ing. And here—a brief narrative of how he came to lead it is opportune. Choosing a mariner’s life, even in his boyhood, he went to sea with an old friend of his parents, while both were living. Before he had finished his third voyage he had become so proficient in navigation and seamanship that he came home a second mate, appointed in place of a man who was not fit for the duty. . He went to sea on his fourth voyage in a clip— per ship bound to New Orleans from Baltimore, with a rich general cargo. That ship was spoken once, south of Abaco on the Bahama Banks, but never again was heard from. It was supposed she had gone down with all on board. She did go down—but she was scuttled and sunk by the red-plumed pirate after her crew had made a des crate resistance. Brave as the bravest, youn idge wood had fought the pirates until stretch senseless on the deck. , Such courage in a mere boy pleased Spirifort, and when the others were slain and left to sink with their dismantled ship, the pirate had the youth carried into his own cabin, where he ten- derly nursed him back to life. It was long before he was able to stand on a deck again, and when he came back to a knowl— edge of things about him, the pirate sloo which Spirifort then commanded lay in a love y little harbor in the Island of Tortuga. where cocoanut and lofty royal palms spread their broad leaves over a swa rd Of 8’)“; rass and flowers. There, on the islanw , in elegant quarters, with fair women to serve and wait upon him, every luxury around him, the youth was gradually brought back to strength and health. Tlicn Spirit'ort told him of the utter dcstruc- tion Of the ship in which he had sailed, with all on board, but him——not a vesti 0 left, so that henceforth hc would be supposed lost with her, like the rest. Gradually he worked upon the boy’s mind, by exhibitions of immense wealth, until the lad con— sented to sail with him. For the other choice was death, for the pirates neither saved nor kept prisoners. And, at the same time. the boy who had pur- poser given his name as Edward Mu'rvcl—lenv- mg OR the name of Ridgewood, made up his mind escape from such a dreadful life the mo- ment 1!: was made possible. .Learn'ing soon that young Marvel was a s len- dld naVlgator, as well as a good Seaman, ._ piri— fort made him his first officer, much to the anger of the man whom he su rseded—a pirate in ptened vengeance. of the way, at his hands. Gradually arvel had grown into the life thus forced upon him, feeling as if he was dead to “It would help me, perhaps, if I knew your “ To a certain extent you shall know them! I the schooner boldly into some Atlantic port, oston I he agent y opposed the rojects of Spirifort he knew 1'. those he had left behind him, and knowing that by the law Of nations his life was forfeit from the association in which he would be found should he ever be captured. “We are of! Montauk Point; the northern en- trance to Long Island Sound is open under our lee!” said Marvel to Spirifort, when they had been out from Labrador about two weeks. Both were in the cabin, and a chart of the coast was spread out before them. “ you want to go into New York quietly, the way coasters from the North usually go, we should enter the Sound here and run down to the city inland.” “ Good! Can you mm by chart without a pilot? Pilots have sharp eyes and would endan- ger our safety!” “ I can run by chart. The Sound is wide and deep and easil navigated. Only when we near the city does t e channel narrow.” “ Then heave away: we will enter the Sound.” Marvel went on deck, had sheets trimmed and the course altered so as to run in. Then he re. turned to. the cabin, leaving Spirifort on deck. His p was to examine the chart more care- fully to note the position and bearing of light— houses and beacons and the location of shoals. He had still another purpose. In the run un- der that cabin was the magazine which held the powder for the great guns as well as all the fixed ammunition for small-arms on board the vessel. In this run, in bags, vast amounts of treasure in silver and gold coin were stored—the common roperty of officers and crew—or so understood. n the ma zine was a box in which lay loose great numfirs of diamond rings, bracelets, brooches, etc, the richest and choicest part of the treasure. To this magazine both Marvel and Spirifort held du licate keys. And now, in a haste, Marvel went down to the magazine and filled a large money-belt with the largest and choicest Of these gems. Hurry- ing 11 to his state-room after closing the maga- zine, e adjusted this belt about his waist under his clothin . He had Iiut just finished this work and re- turned to an apparent inspection of the chart, when Spirifort called out to him from the com- panionway: “ Come on deck QUICKLY. Two American men—of-war are just ahead, in the channel!” (To be continued—commenced in No. 114.) ‘ Stonewall Bob, The Boy Trojan of the Great Range; on, The Search for the Hidden Cache. BY OLL COOMES, AUTHOR OF “ WHIP-KING JOE,” “ mam JOE,” “BABY SAM,” are, ETC. CHAPTER XIV. THE HIDDEN GOLD CACHE. STONEWALL BOB took in the situation in an instant. He saw that but a moment separated him from the murderous thrust of the Indian giant’s knife—less time than he could possibly place himself on the defensive or drawa wea- n. p0Old Pegleg Sol seemed to have realized the situation equally as quick,\ for Stonewall Bob saw him throw up his wooden 1e as if to check the advance of the‘ assassin. t the same in- stant a dull, pistol-like report rung out, and the Boy Trojan saw a. little tongue of fire spit out apparently from the old hunter’s wooden limb, while, with a low gasp, the would-be assassin sta gered back from t e opening in the lodge an at once disappeared. Grasping his revolver, Bob sprung nimny to his feet. “ Sin and calamity! what’s this mean?” he ex- claimed. “Hullo, pard,” said Old Sol, starting up as if from a slee , “what’s the matter with you? been havin’ ad dreams?” ' “See here, old man, don’t you know what’s been going on? didn’t you see that form in the doorway? and hear that pistol-shot? and see the flash of the weapon?” “ Boy, you’re in a bad condition—been havin’ bad dreams, I swow you have—say, la down here and keep still—you’ll raise the h camp. You’re flight , boy—you’re not well.” “ Pegle Sbl, you old calamitous wretch, you’re to lug me a straight, all-wool lie: you fired that shot and I know it. Say, now, didn’t on?” y “ Wal, Bobby, to be honest with you,” the old fellow said, in a Whisper, “ I jist kicked that bi Ingin in the stomach with my game leg, and guess it made him sick to the digestion, for I can shove that peg harder’n a buck antelope can butt.” ‘ “Pegleg, confound you, you’re still lying to me, and I’m going to wrench that wooden leg off and thump you over the head with it if you don’t own up the truth. Say, haven’t you got a masked battery concealed in that y ?” “Te, he! he!” snickered the old man: “boy, I’ll own up, thar’s one o’ the slickest little shoot- in’-irons concealed in that wooden gleg you ever seed. The hull thing works bk): a clock, and now I’ll tell you ’bout it. The ferule on the end is fastened with a hinge. A spring holds it in place and a spring flips it back when I want to shoot. If I can 't my hand into my pocket, I can work the mac ine from thar. By techin’ a little button the ferule flies back; another but- ton and the weapon’s discharged; and a third button and the cartridge is extracted and an— other inserted, ready for business. It war the invention and gift 0’ a wealthy gunsmith what I met at Fort Benton three years ago. The hull thinor is no heavier’n a ordinary wooden club andI tell you she shoots like a derringer. It has served me several good turns lately. I Minded three—yes, four outlaws with it, the night I rescued Miss Ma le Thurston. The last shot was fired right be ore her eyes, and you never see’d a gal so broke up—nighly as bad as the great White—Buffalo—Calf war ’while ago. Nowwthat’s the sacremental truth, Mr. Buffalo— Calf. “You immense old fraud,” exclaimed Bob, “ it would sur rise anybody to see a wild-eyed, old, wobble-sh ed institution go ’round shootin’ with his wooden leg.” “ I reckon that Bouncin‘-Bear war surprised,” Pegleg went on, “ and if I give him a square zip in the digestion it are likely he’s sick ’bout this time. I 'spected to hear him yawp, but he only grunter'. and went away. Reckon he war tryin’ to come a sly game on 'is—a still hunt.” “ If the big scoundrel should die we might get into trouble. although I observe the report of your ‘shooting-leg’ hasn’t raised any alarm yet—not even wakcned our own boys sleeping within ten feet of us. Surely they ar‘n’t all dead.” “ I’ll bet that Ingin don’t want Black-“"01f to know anything ’bout his movements and don‘t think we'll be disturbed any'more by him—least— wise, not soon.” And in this the old hunter was ri ht, for the night wore away without any furt icr molest- ation: and in the morning Bounding—Bear was found dead on the outskirts of the camp, shot through the stomach, with a long scalping—knife driven deep into his heart evidently with his own hand. The news of the giant‘s death soon spread through the camp and great excitement )rc— vailed. but when it became known that he iad committed suicide, though no one could explain the bullet-wound in the stomach, the general verdict was that he had taken his own life through mortification growing out of his defeat in the wrestle with VVhite—Bufi’alo—Calf. The matter being thus settled Stonewall and Old Pegleg felt easier, and after breakfast the whites held a consultation and finally decided to begin the search for the Hidden Cache. To expedite matters and to allay any suspicions their movements mi ht arouse, the took the chief into their confi ence and pronused him a To the surprise of the party the chief informed them that he could take them to the very spot where the massacre of Mercer’s party occurred, for he himself had taken a leading part in the conflict. But he knew nothing of any hidden treasure nor had he ever heard of it before. More hopeful now than ever of finding the cache, the spade brought along for the search was procured and the party started off headed by the chief. ‘ Out not over a mile from the camp the Indian suddenly stopped and said: “ Here is the place where the pale-faces were killed.” The whites around them with a melan- choly look. 0t even a bleaching bone was to seen. “ I oruess you’re right, chief,” said Old Sol, “ but I war thinkin’ the massacre occurred a lit- tle east 0’ this.” “ Black-Wolf,” said Frank Payne, to test the chief’s memory, “do you remember how many of those pale—faces ’5” “ Just one—he catch pony and escape,” replied the chief. “I guess Goven’s story was a true one,” said Payne, “ but the gold was buried where they were last attacked. The note on the convict’s data says it was buried half a mile east of where the massacre took place, or rather the massacre occurred west of the Gold Cache. “ That’s rather indefinite, I find now,” said Ben Clark, “ but we have plenty time to make a thorough search.” So the rty moved back about half a mile and then t 19 search began in earnest. Every de- pression in the ground, however slight, was thor- oughly explored with the spade, and so eager and anxious were the amateurs that they regret;- ted there were not half a dozen spades at com— mand. The hunt was kept up without success till noon when all went to cam for dinner, but as soon as the meal was over t ey hurried back and re- sumed the search. All that afternoon they 1a— bored diligently without success, and when dark- ness at length compelled them to quit for the day the plain around and about them looked like a deserted prairie-dog town. W'ith a feeling of disappointment they returned to camp resolved to continue the search on the morrow. They were satisfied beyond all doubt that the Hidden Cache was somewhere in the vi- cinity, and they were determined to find it if it took a month or more. The next morning they started out quite early, and as they neared the scene Of the previous day’s labor Old Pegleg caught si ht of a black stump of a bush protruding an inc or so above the ss. “ k here, lads,” the old plainsman said, “ thag’s the stub o’ a bush that’s been growin’ here once. “ Yes, and a cottonwood, too,” said Stonewall, stooping and chipping off some of the stump with his knife. “lVell, what can you make of that?” asked Frank Payne. “ Why, do’sn’t them notes say Mercer struck a cottonwood stick in the ground ’bout a rod or two west of the cache ?” “ Yes, but that’s a stump six inches in diame- ter,” replied Payne. “ I know it, but ar’n’t it singular that a cot— tonwood bush should once be growin’ here alone—out so far from the river? You know, don’t you, that a cottonwood cutting will take root and grow like a willow? Now, s’pose the twig Captain Mercer stuck in the ground near his cache took root and grew to a goodosized bush, and then the rairie fire literally killed it, and the buffalo rub d it down, leaving nothin’ but this stump?” ‘ “ Well, in that case, which is posmble, but hardly probable, the cache would be about two rods east of the stump ” said Ben Clark, “ and it won’t take long to ma e the examination.” “By smoke! here’s a slight de ression,” ex- claimed Frank Payne, who was a y on the search; “ bring the spade here, Clark.” Ben took the spade to him, and grasping it im- patiently, he sent the polished blade down into the earth. As he did so he sprung back as if from a serpent, exclaiming: “ Did you hear that, boys? the upon something hard! Listen.” Again he sent the e down into the earth, and this time all hear a dull grating noise. “ Boys, we’ve found it!” eclared the elated young man, as he worked the handle of the spade to and fro and produced that grating sound again. spade grated ‘f Dig down 'oungster, and be sure it’s there,” commanded O d Pegleg, “ before you procla- mate so stoutly.” Frank began to shovel out the dirt and in a few moments the iron rim of a. kett e was re— vealed to their gaze. “ Eureka!” shouted Payne, tossing the spade into the air and shouting with joy; “come, boys, and look upon the rim of the kettle—the pot that contains the treasure!” The party all came up, and leaning over, gazed down at the kettle; then they started up with a yell, and for a few moments they acted like wild men. Stonewall Bob threw his hat into the air and shot a hole through it before it reached the romid. Old Pegleg danced a jig on his one goon Young Lockwood stood on his head, and Ben Clark turned a handspring backward and forward, the last time driviii his inoccasined feet into Stonewall’s breast wit such force as to com letely upset the young Trojan. “ here now, that‘ll do!” Old Pegleg finally said, “ don’t bu’st our galls, but come and lct’s finish the work. 0 be sure we’ve found the gold, for I hearn the eagles on the coins just now pi )in’ to each other with joy.” ‘tonewall Bob took up the spade and carefully dug the dirt from around the iron kettle, then he took hold of the vessel and lifted it from the hole and placed it on the ground. “ It’s heavy as lead,” the young Trojan said. The pot was full, the top bein covered with solidly-packed earth, so that all neath was in- visible. “ Turn it up and empty it on the grass,” said Ben Clark. As Stonewall lifted the fell upon the party and a1 upon the vessel. The young Trojan turned the kettle up. The contents slipped out in a solid block like a brick from the mold. Still nothing but dirt was visi- ble. Frank Payne gave the lump a kick and it crumbled to pieces, but not a gold coin was to be seen .’ “ The devil and calamit ' “ what does that mean? Pegleg’s piping eagles?” ‘ They must be in the other kettle—Goven said there was two of them buried,” said Payne somewhat excitedly. Stonewall began digging and soon struck an- another kettle, which he ifted from the cachc. Like the other it was full of something, the top being covered with earth. “ Boys,” said the young Trojan, as he turned the kettle upside down, “ this tells the tale.” The contents of the vessel slipped out like the other in a solid block. Stonewall tore the block to pieces with his hands, and to the utter amaze- ment of all, not a single gold coin was to be seen! t a breathless silence fixed their eager eyes l” blurted Stonewall, Vhere’s the coins with CHAPTER XV. THE END OF IT ALL. LIKE dumb statues the hunters stood for sev» eral moments gazing at the empty kettles. the gaping cachc, and at one and another, with a blank look of disappointment and surprise upon their faces. Stonewall Bob was the first to speak. Looking up at Payne, he said: “ \Vell?” “Sure enough,” responded Frank. “\Vhere’s them piping eagles, Pegleg?’ said Ben Clark. “ I guess I was mistaken," answered the old hunter, with a frown. “ And I guess that convict, Goven, was, too.” “ Perhaps Mercer deceived his men as to where he put his gold.” ‘ What’s that, Bob?” asked Payne intin at the pile of earth. ’p0 g share of the gold should they succeed in finding it. “A bottle, by calamity!" exclaimed the Boy Trojan, picking a small glass vial out of the dirt; “and it’s got a pa ‘ in it, too.” “ Perhaps it wi explain matters more satis- factorily. ” Stonewall quickly broke the vial with his knife and took up the paper and handed it to Frank Payne. " Yes, here is some writing upon it,’ ’ thc young man said, unfolding the paper with rs nervous fin- e . “ Read! read!” cried his friends. Payne read as follows: “To WHOM THIS Cones pilgrims journeying up this valley chanced to find, by the merest accident, this cache in which there were many thousands of gold dollars; and not know- ing whether the owner was alive, nor the where- abouts of his heirs, we will take possession of it and devOte it to the benefit of some orphans we know Of in great need. (Signed) Tm: ORPHANS." As he concluded reading, Payne crushed the paper in his hand, and looking about him, said in disgust: ‘ 'Will somebody please kick me.” “ Heavens! that makes me tired,” Observed Lockwood. “ Let’s all go soak our heads,” added Ben Clark in disgust: Stonewall Bob and Old Pegleg rolled on the ground in a fit of lau htei‘. “ \Vell,” Payne fin y said, gazing abstracted- ly away across the plain, “ we’ve 11 having a glorious lively time. anyhow, gold or no gold. Health is wealth they say; therefore, I’ve been enriched coming Il’est on this excursion. Gold corru ts the morals, and I’ll venture the asser- tion t at the canker has laid hold of them cussed ‘ Orphans’ before this.” “ All that galls me is t through getting here,” show. “ That’s paSSed, and you’re safe, and know more than you did, so what are you whining about?” i'etorted Lockwood. “ All your trouble comes,” said Stonewall Bob, of Ben Clark blabbing Goven’s secret to his sweetheart in ArchVaiidyke’s hearing. Lovers shouldn’t talk.” “Big White—Bufi'alO—C‘alf has bawled again," said Old Pegleg, “and if he’d apply his advice to hiSself, whar’d them canoes on his feet, and them blankets on his legs be?” “ Stonewall,” said Payne, “ you can ive them two kettles and that spade to the chic , and this cache will do for a skunk’s nest. Let us go back to camp and have a war—dance.” SO saying. the entire party returned to camp disappointed but not at all despondent. On the contrary, they seemed relieved of a great re- straint, and at once entered into the full enjoy- ment of the situation. ' The party remained at the Indian camp over two weeks, and in that time they were not idle. They went out with the Indians on several buf- falo-hunts, and upon each occasion distinguished themselves for the number of bisons they slew. Finally Old Black—Wolf gave a grand war— dance in honor of his guests, and if ever night was made hideous with a demoniac revel, it was upon that particular occasion. To the amuse- ment of his friends, Stonewall Bob took part in the dance, and his towering form was a conspicu- ous figure among the half—nude, grotesquely- paintcd Indians. Ridiculous as the whole proceedin were to the white spectators, the chief an his fair daughter regarded them as eminently success— ful, and it was with a smile Ofgoy that Singing- Bird watched the form of the 0y Trojan as he went yelling and posturing and dancing around and around in one never-varying circle. That the princess was in love with the young giant there was not a doubt in the minds of the whites, but there was some qumtion as to whether her infections were fully reciprocated by the young plainsman. At length the time for departure home came, and it was with a feeling of no little regret that the hunters were forced to quit the Indian camp; and no one seemed to take their departure more to heart than did Singing-Bird. Before parting, ‘the rincess and Stonewall held a private talk, an what passed between them—what promises were made and wishes ex- pressed Will never be known. for Stonewall was too gallant and honorable to trifle with the affec- tions of the simple-hearted girl, or to say aught of her not of the greatest respect. Old Pegleg Sol consean to accompany his friends to the settlement—the home of the Thurs- tons and Ben Clark, and no sooner were they out - of sight and hearing of the Indian camp than Stonewall Bob 0 nailed on the old borderman, and gave him “(lea away” to the party as to the “masked battery ” he carried concealed in his wooden leg: he also revealed the mystery con~ nected with the death of the Indian, Boundin - Bear, and not until then did Stonewall’s frien know how near he came to death that night in the Indian camp. At noon of the first day of their homewai‘d journey the party halted in the valley by the Sentinel, that historical rock where the Boy Trojan first met Mabel Thurston on that ever- to—be remembered night of the great bufi’alo stampede. The polished bones of half a dozen bisons were all that remained Of that whirlpool of death that rolled and surged around the rock, excepting some dark stains on the stone where the life-blood of Zadok, the hunter, had been spilled. A feeling I GREETING :—Four weary he dangers we passed observed young Ren- it Of the deepest sorrow filled the breast of abel Thurston as she stood by the Sentinel. The face of poor, brave old Zadok' came up before her, and she seemed to hear his kind, cheering voice encouraging her. The maiden again told the story of the old man‘s tragic death. and wept bitterly. “ Boys,” said Stonewall, “let us dedicate this rock to the memory of Zadok, the hunter, and carve his name upon it, that ages to come may look upon it.” “ 011, do! do!” cried Mabel, with a feeling of vcncration for the memory of the man who had saved her and her father’s life at the cost of his own. “'ith the blade of a hatchet for a chisel, Stone- wall Bob cut the name, “ ZADOK,” in large, deep letters upon the stone. It required several hours to do it, but all felt that the time was well spent, and when they mounted and moved on it was with a feelin r of relief over having paid a last tribute to a ( cad hero. On the fourth day of their journey the party reached the settlement, where all were received with the wildest demonstrations. And thus endcd the search for the Hidden Gold Cache, and while it had been barren of re- sults so far as treasure was concerned, every one of the party was ready to vote it a grand suc— cess so far as perils, adventures and thrilling sport went. The amateurs were proud of their lively experience on the Great Rungc. yet they had no desire to pass through the same again and take their chances. And while the amateurs were at Humboldt they had the pleasure of attending the wedding of Ben Clark and Mulwl Thurston, an affair which thc notorious Archibald Vundyke had hopcd to prevent by the nbdu'ction of the inni— den, assisted by the outlaws to whom Vandka had furnished the information concerning Mer- cer‘s buried treasure. Finally the time came for the amateurs to take their departure for their Eastern homo, and it was then that their separation from their friends—from Stonewall Bob and jolly Old Peg— leg—was made with feelings of the deepest ro— gret, which would have been all the deeper, had arrangements not been made for another grand hunt one year from that time. when their ac- quaintance and friendship could of course be re- newed. During the fall Old Pegleg Sol returned to his favorite haunts away up on the upper Missouri, and there Smncwall Bob promised to take the amateurs when they again came “'est in quest of sport and adventure. THE END. —-————— WHEN a young couple west Of the Rocky Mountains run away and get married. the sport- ing journalist alludes to it in big headline letters as “ The Pacific Slope.”