her household consumed, and her cruelty was

exceeded only by her cunning. I

“ Well, Henry!” exclaimed the amiable Hec-
ate, addressmg her son, “ what’s the news?”

" Nothing much, mother, only that Chamber-
lain’s girl is kicking like a mad deer about her
precxous father.”

“ You must get her here, Henry; I'll soon

uiet her down. You didn’t tell her anything,

he .”

“ Nat me! We’ll have to keep her in the dark
till she’s- married to Jasper safe and sound.”

“ I’ll soon make her glad to marry even one
of Lucifer’s imps if I get her into my clutches.”

“ I don’t doubt it. Where’s Jasper i” _

“ In the back parlor, lying down; he didn’t
come home till three o’clock.”

“ Did he do any good?” _

“ He did the best he could; he took the Night-
hawk out and picked up a pair of pigeons.
They wanted to go to the Grand Central, but
Jasper took them all over New York, and they
had drinks at every place they stopped. My!
how I laughed when he told me!”

“ Yes, but what did he make?” persisted the
fond father, impatiently.

“About one hundred. I believe.”

“That ain’t much out of such a racket as
that.” _

The old lady omitted to mention that her
grandson, who was her especial favorite, had
leIdBd his spoils with her. He had taken out
an old hack which was kept in a stable on the
premises, in company with a superannuated
horse, and had picked up two belated travelers,
who were none the better for having dined and
wined too freely. He had, of course, succeeded
in robbing them when he dragged them, drunk.
from his cab.

Netting walked down the hall and threw open
the back-parlor door.

His son Jasper lay on a lounge in a profound
slumber, but his father unceremoniously
awakened him. I

The young man was not a prepossessmg mem-
ber of society. He was dark, and his skin and
eyes were bilious<looking:, his sleek hair was
very black and shiny, and his small eyes, set
close together, were both restless and cunning.

“ Lemme alone l”the young man growled.

“ Wake up, you duiiderhead, and listen to
what I’ve got to say. Hetty’s kicking, and
talks about giving information to the police,
and if she sees that a re ward is Offered, she may
be fly enough to tumble.”

“ Well, what are you going to do?”

“ I Wired Phil Burr to send on a dispatch I
sent him, and I’ll call around when she gets it
and bring her here.”

“ She won’t come, the young wildcat!”

“ Yes, she will, if the dispatch says her father
is all right and wants her to go on a visit to his
friends, the Nottiugs.”

Jasper looked surprised, then sat up and
rubbed his hands, chuckling, as he exclaimed:

“That’s so; she’d go ‘through fire and water
to do what her dad told her to do.”

“She’ll be just as obedient to her husband
when she gets one.”

'“ She’d better, that’s all 1”

“ You won’t get another match like her, and
I’ve got all the papers. She has only to claim
the fortune. and we’ll take care she does not do
that till she is Mrs. Jasper Netting.”

“ There ain‘t any danger of some one coming
over to look into things?”

“ No fear. They could not connect the man
Chamberlain, who was a gambler, with Rupert
Hangington, who left England thirty years
a o.

g“ Perhaps not, but for the same reason won’t
we now have trouble to make it out ourselves?”
asked the wily Jasper.

“ Not at all. The papers I secured fix allthat.
Though his father died before the title came to
him, the marriage registry and the son’s birth,
which was also registered, tells all the story,
and the papers contain all the evidence. His
father confided the papers to his son just before
his death, and told him the whole story, so
Chamberlain, or Hearington, knew that both a
fortune and title were coming some. time to the
family, but never suspected, till the day he—he
—disappeared that it was already his.”

“ You knew this, then, before—~before—”

“ Yes, I knew it. He told me all, and
bragged about what an heiress his Hetty
vivguédnbe, and that’s why I worked the racket as

i .

J asper’s yellow and black eyes glistened.

At this moment the interesting conversation
was brought to ’a close by the entrance of a
woman. A thin, pale, overworked creature
who was the abject slave of the establishment—-
the wife of Hank Netting, and mother of the
hopeful Jasper.

“ There’s a man outside who wants to see you,
Jasper ” she said, in a frightened tone, which
showed how completely she was broken in spirit
and heart.

“ Who is it?”

“ I can’t tell—a man with a broken nose. He
has a dog with him and mother would not let
him in, for I’ve just washed up the oilcloth in
the hall.”

Her dutiful son with a vicious “cursed
stupidity!” hastened out to interview his friend,
and soon returned with both man and dog,
angrily bidding the terrified woman to “ clear
out.” which she hastilv did.

Behind this man with the broken nose there
slouched a huge white bulldog, an under—bred,
bandy—legged sample of that breed of bruises.

“ Hallo, Rusty!” cried Hank Netting, looking
by no means pleased at his visitor’s advent.

“ Hallo, guv’ner!” was the response, in a
coarse veice.

“ Rusty ” sat down, while his dog companion
crouched by his chair as the rufiian put his hat
on the floor.

“ What brings you here i”

“ That’s what brings me here,” replied the
man, and he unrolled a yellow poster and spread
it on the floor.

Father and son started violently.

It was the announcement of the reward offer-
ed for the apprehension of the murderer of the
man whose dead body was found drifting out to
sea in the cat-boat.

“ You see, guv’nor, this body was found on
the night of Septcmber 37th, and that is the
date when you engaged my cat—boat.”

“ Pshaw, man! Is that the niare’s-nes! you‘ve
found? Your cat—boat capsized, and J aspcr and
I were picked up by a fi :liiiig-boat,Oi' we would
be at the bottom along with her.”

The man looked doubtful fora moment.

“ That’s the story you told me,” he said
slowly, “ but it’s the story I don’t believe. i
happened to come across this poster. and I
came up from my little place to ask you what it.
means. ’

“ I wish I knew,” laughed Netting, “ for then
I’d go to the Mayor Of New York and claim the
reward.”

“ Maybe that’s been done already,” suggested
Jasper. “ It‘s more than three weeks since that
body was found.”

_“ They can't do it,” eXclaimed Rusty, ex-
citedly—" they can’t rob a honest man of his
just jews, for they can’t ’dentify tho cat~boat,
an’ I ken. .’”

“ See here. Rusty," said the elder Netting,
slowly and significantly, “if I were in your
place. I wouldn’t be in too great a hurry to
identify that cat—boat, for some one may take it
into his head to mix you up with the murder.”

“  don’t. see how that is,”.muttered the man,
sulkily: but he looked daunted.

' “ You know best how you stand with the po-
lice authorities of New York.” rejoined N of.—
ting, carelessly.

“Curse them!
alone i"

“ You are best at Seabright, my friend.
Your cat—boat is paid for, and I may make you
a present to repay you for the trouble of coming
here. ’

“ You paid for the boat honorable enough,”
gripnbled Rusty, still looking far from satis-

9f .

“ And I further propose to give you a hand—
some present, so don’t trouble your head about
anythin g else. ”

yes, they can’t let a cove

 

He handed a roll of bills to Rusty, who moist-
ened his grimy thumb in his-mouth and pain—
full counted them. '

“ ive hundred dollars, without risk, Rusty,
is better than one thousand and a strong sus-
picion hanging over you of being concerned. in
a capital crime.”

“ All right, v’nor: I must say you always
gets the best 0 a cove.” _ I o

“ Yes; it’s like ‘ buckin’ the tiger’ to kick
against Hank Netting. Go back to Seabright,
and keep as quiet as a ’long-shore crab.”

“ I’m sick of that place, guv’nor, it’s soblamed
quiet. No ructiens there, never.”

“ Can’t be helped, Rusty; by and by when
that little crib-crack is forgotten I’ll start you
in a job: meanwhile keep still,but neverforget—
ting, that it’s no use trying to bluff the old
man.” . _

Rusty retired, and No‘ting turned to his son.

“ See that!” he said, in a tone that showed his
anxiety.

“Yes, we’ll have to get rid of Rusty. He
knows too much.”

“ The whole business was clumsy. I did not
think Icould make such a mess of such a job,
but that Chamberlain took me unawares, the
shrer rogue!”

“ Well. we are all right as matters are,” Jas-
p'er remarked, consolingly, “ and they’ll remain
all right. unless that Pinkerton clipper gets on
the case.” .

“ Sam Saunders? Oh! he’s out of the bu31~
mess—got rich and retired. As for the rest of
Pmkerton’s crew—bah! they are snoops, that’s
all!”

But Netting was not at his ease. The very
mention of Sam Saunders’s name affected the
professional cracksman.

And well it might.

The old woman new appeared upon the scene,
and her over-fed face glistened When she learned
the history of Rusty ’s discomfiture.

“ Get the girl here," she said, rubbing her fat
hands,in anticipation of the pleasure in store.
“ I‘ll tame the little catamount; I’ll break her
spirit.” she chuckled; “ she’ll be glad to marry
any Of the imps when I get through with her.
How long before I’ll have her in my motherly
care?—ha! hal”

“ Some time to-morrow; she’ll get the dis-

patch in the morning, and I’ll call around be— '

fore night and fetch herfi”
“All right; you’ll see fun——Ohl yes, grand
fun!”

 

CHAPTER III.
SAM SAUNDERS RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS.

SAM SAUNDERS kept his appointment with
Doctor Howard, and the two men sat doWn to-
gether at a table on which was scattered a
quantity of papers. i,

“ I’ll‘ tell you all about my uncle,” said How-
ard, “ and you can form your own Opinion of
how he would be liable to act on his arrival in
America.
Sir Alywin Hearington, a stern old Scottish
noble, whose will was immovable as the hills of
his native land. This son, Rupert, resembled
his father in one respect—he was also strong-
willed. When he was twenty years of age he
fell in love With an opera-Singer, a French or
Spanish girl, and married her. His father was
furious and withdrew all assistance from his
son, who struggled along for an existence for
some years and then started off to the United
States, with his wife and son.”

“ That was thirty years ago?” asked the de-
tective, who was takin notes in a small book——
memoranda that won] .have been quite useless
to any one but himself, for they were in cipher
invented by himself.” , _

“ Yes, thirty years ago; their son, the man I
am in search of, must be over forty years of
a 8.

3“Was the marriage-register of this Rupert
ever found?”

“ Yes; he was married in St. Paul’s Church,
Covent Garden, and his son was baptized-
there.” '

“ Under what name i”

“ The same as his father—Rupert.”

“Have you any family portraits?”

“Here the are. One of old Sir Alywm, one
of his son upert, and one of Sir Alywin’s
wife Rupert’s mother.”

“ His wife’s is the side of the house with
which you. are connected'i”queried the detec-
tive scanning his employer’s features closely.

“ es; my aunt and my mother were sisters
of Lady Hearingion.”

“ Ah! Now I should like to see the notices
published in the newspapers.”

“ Here they are. My aunt was the only one
in the family who felt much interest in Rupert
Hearington; but his father left his whole for-
tune and a large estate in Scotland to his son,
or his son’s heirs. The title, of course, goes to
the male branch of the family. If Rupert is
dead, it descends to his son. the offspring of the
opera-singer; if he is also dead, to his son, or if
he leaves no son the title goes to a distant cou-
sin, but the money and real estate go to Ru-
pert‘s daughter, if he leaves one.”

“ Then the estate is not entailed ?”

‘ ‘ No; here are some of the papers containing
advertisements.”

He produced several English and American
papers, of various dates, in which a firm of law-
yers cited Rupert Hearington, who left London
for New York thirty years before date of ad-
vertisement, to appear and prove his identity
as legal heir to the title and estates of his de-
ceased father, ,Sir Alywin Hearington of Clan—
muir. in the county of Inverness, Scotland.

“ These notices were also inserted in Aus-
tralian papers,” added Howard;“ but without
result."

“It is a tough case, I fear,” replied the de—
tective, “ but I’ll do my best,” and he smiled as
he studied the face of the man before him, add—
ing:

“ A true detective never despairs."
“ Then lose no time and spare no expense. Go
as you please an may you win in the end !”

“ Go as you please is my style, Doctor How-
ard l’.’ and Saunders, gathering up certain of. the
papers, bade Howard good—morning. “ I’ll re-
port as soon as I have anything of importance
to communicate. Don’t get impatient if you
do not hear from me for some days.”

“ What about the ‘ sinews of war‘i”’asked the
doctor.

“ I am not in need of funds, and prefer to
render my account when my task is completed.”

As soon as S 'm Saundcrs was out of the house.
his :ictive mind beg-In Its work on the case, and
his thoughts ran on :

“ Rupert IIenrington —— about forty years
old—of sturdy Scotch parcntuge—~this Doctor
Howard’s own cousin—family traits never die
out. Now what about the man whoso body was
found drifting out to sea three weeks ngo.’ Is
thcrc anything in this fancied rosei’nblancc?
Am I green or rusty? Rusty—by the bones of
Old Hays! That looks just like a job of River
Rusty’s, the old villain! But the fellow is said
to be dead, which I’ll believe when I know it
fo * sure. That is my lead now. Short trail or
long truil-—in N ew York or around the world—
I‘ll follow it to the end."

(To be continued.)

“

 

A WRITER in the Indcpcndcnf of Romney,
Me.,n truthful mnn,too, says that the other
day ho saw a dog trying.r to bury a live rabbit
which he had caught. He held the rabbit in his
inputh while he dug its grave. with his paws.
When the. grave was prepared, he put its un—
Willing occupant. into it, covered it npcarofullv,
and, uftcr patting thedirt well with its paws,
retired to a little distance and lay down. watch-
ing it. Presently bunny, doubtless thinking
judgim-nt day had arrived, arose. from the.
tomb and started off on a run. The dog soon
caught him and buried him again. Three
times the little animal resurrected itself, and
each time the dog caught and buried it, but on
the fourth trial concluded that the rabbit was a
little too lively for a corpse. and killed it before
proceeding with the. obsequies.

He was the only son of a baronet,'

IF THERE WAS NOTHING TO
FORGET.

BY A. W. BELLAW.

 

 

if there was nothing to forget
There would be nothing to regret,
The past would lose its wail
That comes with many a sinking sob—
That comes wuth m-iny alone heart-throb——
And tears of no avail.

The hands which clasped Once in our own,
The love that gIOWed when faith had grown‘
~'I‘o blossom, haunt us still,
And shaqow all our lives across
With a complaining sense of loss
Which nmhing now can fill.

The dream of blisn which once has been,
The smile that sw~etened many a scene,
Oblivion cannot cloy,
And Lethe's stream no longer flows,
Nepenthe has no balm when woes
Are fruit of former joy.

 

Mickey and the Mule.

BY ASHLEY O. SPAIADING.

 

 

IN the winter of 186 i—5, our regiment, the lst
Kansas, was lying at Natchez, Miss. ()ur camp
there was indeed a pleasant asylum from the
hardships of actual war, of which we had seen
more than enough. The warm Southern Skii‘fi,
even at that time, seemed to be aware of the
coming of peace, and accordingly were their
sunniest smiles perpetually. Still, in otherparts
of Dixie, the case was vastly dissimilar. The
horrors of civil war were to be heard of in let—
ters from home, and in the graphic descriptions
of hotly—contesti (1 fields given in the news-
papers by those happy individuals, the war cor—
respondents. -

I have said that we enjoyed a pleasant
asylum, and so we did; but I must not be under-
stood as meaning that the soldier anywhere
south of the Mason and Dixon line was wholly
aloof from the operations of guerrillas, and
other. hostile expeditions common to a land em-
broiled in war.

'While such annoyances in the immediate
vicinity of‘ Natchez were not of very frequent
occurrence that winter, there were some, and it
is about one of these ana its humorous finale
that I propose to write.

One eVening after dark a negro paddled his
skiff across the Mississippi River from Vidalia
to Natchez with tidings which he very carefully
conveyed to regimental headquarters, It was
an hour later when we were ordered to be in
readiness, with One day’s rations in our haver-
sacks, to march not later than daylight on the
following morning.

Nervously pufiing our sweet-briers, we sat
some time trying to puzzle out of our brains
what the morrow’s business would probably
prove to be. - . -

Failing to discover the cause of the sudden
and early move, we scattered away' to our
blankets, there to woo the affectionate em-
braces of the sleepy god the rest of the night.

At the first intimation of morning no bugle
was blown, and the little stir made saddling
up and getting ready to move, caused no alarm
whatever, so that we were quickly on our way
to the river, which rolled betWeen us and our
destination. . -

Belonging to that branch of the service known
as “ mounted inf , try,”and now arrived on the
bank of the Miss ppi, we led our horsesaboard
the large trans rt-which lay there, heavily
wheezing, await 11 our coming.

We were soon a rift. Presently it got noised
about among the boys that a lar e drove of
Texas cattle was a )proaching, an that it was
the intention of the onfederates, who were with
the cattle, to swim them over the river and
thence drive them easterly, probably to General
Lee's army, in Virginia. '

Our steamboat trip was, consequently, only a
matter of crossing t in river. _

Soon across, very little time was spent in dis-
embarkation, and less in “ stringing out ” to-
ward the “ coVered country,” the forest be-

ond. -
y A few days before the time of which I am
writing, one of our company horses turned
lame, and therefore was not available for this
scent: and but for the crippled condition of this
old steed, this contribution to war literature
would never have been written. It chanced,
also. that this horse was the riding animal of an
Irishman belonging to the company, whom, for
i121): purposes of the story, I shall name Mickey
n

g.

New, in friend Long had, on this occasion,to
ride a mu 9 drawn green from the corral for his
very benefit. I think that Mickey has never
longed for any benefits since.

The command traveled along “quite a little
piece” into the Confederacy, nothing being en-
countered until approaching nine o’clock, when
the ominous, spiteful crack of a rifle ahead
seemed to augur business, and began to scatter
the idle predictions already made, as usual, of
“ another wild-goose chase.”

A little set—to of perhaps half an hour’s dura-
tion followed; the “ boys in gray ” pretty strong
in number and at first rather averse to giving
up their cattle.

Seeing their drove, however, almost irre-
itrievably stampeded in all directions through
the dense woods, frightened by the racket of the
musketry and the unusual sight of human bat-
tle, the cattle-guard withdrew and the fight
was at an end.

From this little “ brush ” we escaped most
fortunately, none of our men being killed,
though some were woundcd and a few painfully

so.

Mickey Long. at roll—call aboard the boat,
was not present to answcr to his name, for dur-
ing the engagement he had becn ingloriously
“ bucked off” of his mulc’s back, and in the ex-
citement had been forgotten for the time and
left behind.

Of course the transport was detained while
a strong scouting party was sent in scarch of
the missing Mickcy.

After due scarch ihc party returned to thc.
boat and reported that neither Long was to be
found, nor his mule.

liong rode well enough, and like the rest of
llibcrnin, he was an cchllont soldier. than
whom none was better or braver.

(lonsidcrubly worried ovcr thc npparent loss
of poor Mickey, we set out over the. river again
to our camp, whcrc we. arrived about an hour
afterward.

Some little while after dark that night. an—
other dorky made his up )earance in the canvas
city with intelligcnu- ofl somcbodyclud in the
conventional blue. slculthily moving about
“ ovcr whar yo’ Ici’.” ’

Of course it ri-quircd very little time to do—
cide who that was. lint a few questions were
put to the negro:

“IVhy, if you thought him a i’cderal Soldier,”
said our captain, “ did you not bring him away
in your skill?”

“ Because I war not a~gwinc tcr,”nnswered
the African.

“ Were you afraid?” ,

“ No, suh, not etzackly ufcurd.”

“ What was the trouble, then!”

“ Wu], yo’ see, hc kcp’ hisst to his hissc’f,
an’ I war not a-gwine to meddle i”

This settled it. As hiirricdly as was possiblc
a number of us went to the river, procured the
stcamcr’s yawl, and without the loss of 1]. min-
ute pushed ucrOss to the Louisiana shore again.

IIardly landed, one of our party saw a man
moving from tree to tree, a )parcntly trying to
secure a better view of tie contcnts of our
boat, and thinking that he might prove to be
Micki-y. our comrade called out:

“ Is that you, Mickey {”

“lie gob you‘re right it is!“ responded the
wel|»known voice.

“ W'ell, we're after Y()ll—-('i)IIIiH down.”

“ Faith I will!" returned Mickey, and down
he came. “ You see,“said Long, 11 ftcrour hearty

 

handshaking had ceased, “ you see. whin the

  

 

divils began pcppering into us that time, be-

yant, phat sh’u’d happen the long—cared black—

guard I straddled only thryigg c’u’d he lpull

ltine saddle acrass over his he —bad Inc to
im!

“ Yes, he was trying to get you off—we saw
that,” said some one, “ but when he succeeded,
as he undoubtedly did, what did you do then?”

“Sure, I picked mesel’np, thin, an’ wint on
afther ye an’ wint near gittin’ kilt the second
toime wid the cattle—«bad ’cess to ’um! Begor-
ra, they give as little bade to Mickey as’they
w’u’d to er. bulrush: onlytor a bi tree I got
in behind, the horruned divils w’u’ ate me in-
toirely—so they w’u’d l”

“ But, Mickey,”queried one of us, “ when the
fight” began and you were unable to keep
u .—

2‘ Keep up!” quickly interposed Long, “keep
up,is it! troth, I was able to keep up, and that
was the devil of it. for, as long as ye driv the
Johnnies, sure, I was wid the best 0’ ye. but
whin ye turreii’d tail, a str’ake o’ lightnin‘
w’u’dn’t match yo, afut!”

“ IV ere you present when we first fell back ’i”

“ Indade I was, an’ the lasht toime, too !”

“ Well, why didn’t you show your self, then!"

“ Now, if that ain‘t the divil’s own question
for ter ask Mickey! Sure, wasn’t I in head
firsht and heels lasht in er holler log, whin the
foightin’ was goin’ on, an’ the bullets sthrikin’
ag’in’ the outside av it loike—leike liail—stliones
on the back av a roof! Was it to come out thin
ye’d have me? Not much i”

“Oh, that would have been somewhat criti—
cal,”admitted one of the men, apologetically:
“ we were not aware of your danger.”

“ Indade ye wasn’t. an’ ye w’a’n’t aware I
did show up, na’therl”

“ No—you did '4”

“Faith, 1 did.”

“ 'VVhen ?”

“ IVhin there was no fOightin’ goin’ on, I
backed out of me hole loike a rabbit—the very
same, heels firsht!——an’ was makin’ a straight
shirt-tail fur the river, sthoppin’ wance in a
phile, thrashin’ an’ brushin’ bits av rotten wood
and dirt off 0’ me. as best I c’u'd,an’ takin’ thim
blackguards~phat (I‘ve call ’em—anls out 0’
me eyes. ears and neck, be the bushel—bad ’cess
to ’uml an’, busy loike. ye see, whin phat come
over me only thim gray-coated haythens. un-
knownst to me—the divil run away wid ’um !”

“ W'ell, that was a fix to be in,” interrupted
somebody. '

“ Yes, ’ said Mickey, continuing, “ ‘ an’ mis-
fortune niver comes single—handed an’ alone.’
said I, to the arfiCer in command of ’um, as soon
as I saw him lookin’ at the red spots an’ blotches
in me face and hands made be the bites av the
-—phat d’ye call ’umf~ants—bad ’cess ter their
sewlsl ‘ An’ it’s all up wid Mickey now. an’ I’ll
be in fur Andersonville Prison, wid all the rest
0’ me misfortunesl’ -

“ ‘ Av phat misfortunes do you complain,
Paddy?’ asked the rebel arficer, keeping his eye
on the red spots an’ blotches in me face and
hands.

“ ‘Misfortunes enough,’ said I, wid a long
sigh the length av me arrum, ‘ an’ may yer
Honor niver want theha-lf av ’um— the saints
save yel’

“ ‘ Come, come, Paddy, no blarney!’ said the
arficer. purty shaky loike, lookin’ at me face;

“ ‘ It’s not blarneying that’s the matther wid

.me,’ said I, ‘ at all-—at all, but only~only— ”

“ ‘ Only phati’ said the arficer, backm’ away.

.r“ ‘ ONLY THE SMALL-Pox I HAVE l’ said I, an'
bad luck tothe sight av ’um ye c’u’d see goin’
down the road fur dustl

“ Sure, they have the auld mule, an’ l'ave ’uni
keep him!”

Buffalo Bill’s ‘

Secret Service Trail;

1

 

 

Major Mephisto, the Soldier’s Poe.

A Romance of Bod-skins, Renegades and Army
Benoounters.

 

BY MAJOR DANGERFIELD BURR,
(Fifth Cavalry, U. S. Army.)

AUTHOR OF “ PHANTOM MAZEPPA,” “ CAPTAIN
CRIMSON," “ THE BUCKSKIN KING,”
ETC., n'rc.

 

CHAPTER XX.
FOR UNKNOWN REASONS.

WHEN the man who had been called Major
Mephisto advanced to the side of Buffalo Bill,
be glanced up into his face and asked:

“ Are you he whom men call Buffalo Bill?”

“ 1 am.”

“ You are Chief of Scouts, under General
Custer?”

“ Yes.” ~13

“When did you leave General Custer?”

“ 'I‘wo nights ago.” -

“ Where were you going when my Hussnrs
captured you?”

“ To Fort Advance."

‘ ‘ With dispatches?”

“ Yes,” answered the scout. knowing the
utter nselessness of denying anything that bv
searching him they could find out. ‘

“ Will you return then to General Custer!”

“ 1 cannot tell, for I may be sent to the line
of outposts with dispatches.”

“ How was it that you were captured by my

Hussurs?”
. “ I saw them off on the prairie, as I was go—
ing into camp for the night, supposed they
were honest soldiers, and when they rodc up
they caught inn with my arms full of wood,
for I suspected no treachery.

“ Had I known what they \vcre before thcv
got ncar me, I think I should have let thorn
fight if they wanted me."

“ I am sure that you would, from all I have
heard of you: but I am not going to detain you
liuil‘nlo um.” ‘ '

“ Does that mcan that I can go i"

“ ch, nftcr you have had supper, which is
about ready.”

Ho saying the chief stepped forward and took
the bundugo from the scout‘s eyes, nnd ilic
bonds from his hands. '

“ You are tbc king bcc, surc onough,” said
liuil‘ulo Bill. as hc saw the elegant niakc-up of
Major Mcpliisto, nnd lic added: ‘

“ I supposed that pilgrim you called captain
Vil'lisflying to mo when he said he was not the
c ilc ,

“ No, I am cilicf here: but conic. have, your
supper, and then my men will blindfold you
again and carry you out upon the prairic.
when you will be free."

" May I ask wh you allow me in go!”

“ For reasons o my own which I cannot ex-
plain."

“ All right, major, I am not curious, as Ion"
us I can go; but I would like to offer you 3
piecc of advice,” '

“ \Vcll, sir.m

“ (live up robbing on tho road and take to
an lioncstcnlliiig, for sooner or lutcr you “ill
gct roped.” ‘

“ I will izikc my chain-cs; but supper is ready
so join me, plcnsc.“ ‘ '

They cnicrcd the cabin, which was large and
cyidcnily thc Mode of all the men, fora unin—
IIILI‘ of bunks \wrc along thc wull.

l‘bc table was ncnily set. with clean cloth
and tho tinwarc sbonc like silxcr. . ’

’I‘hc man who was cooking served the disbcs.
and the scout enjoyed the meal with Major
Mcphisto, no onc clso sitting down. ‘

.The scout was in hopes he would raiso the
Visor of his hclmct. but he only did so to the
month, l‘cvculing the iirin cliinalonc.

I‘he supper was a remarkably good one for
camp, and the scout enjoyed it. and was then
ollercd a good cigar by his outlaw guest.

 

 

Then Buffalo Bill signified a willingness to de-
part, and mounting his horse he was blindfold-
ed, bound, and, accompanied by six of the lins-
sars as a guard, he left the cabin in the thicket.

If any of the Hussars had been inclined to
talk to the scout,.he did not ive them a chance,
for he remained perfecin s lent.

But his thoughts were busy, and he counted
ever footfall of his horse, so that he could get
an I( ea of the distance to the cabin from Wilt re
he would be released.

After leavmg the hills and a ride of an hour
upon the prairie, the scout was brought to a
halt, the bandage was removed from his eyes,
his arms were freed, the lcd horses turned loose,
and without a word, his guard rode away.

“ ood-ni ht, gentlemen, and thank you,”
called out t escent. '

But no reaponse was returned, and the I I us.
sars rode on. .

After gazing at them for a little while, tho
scout looked u to the stars, 'ook his bearings,
and then, as 0 moved away followed by his
other horses he said:

“ Now those pilgrims think they are fooling
me nicely, while I know they are riding away
from and not toward their cabin.

“They incandcrcd about this prnirio in the
s lace of a quarter of a mile to make me believe
they were taking mc quite a distance away
froin the bills; but I wasn’t fooled Worth a
cent.

“ I (‘ountcd tm- stops from the cabin until wu
struck 10ch around, and [will be ablc to find
that little cabin again, and I shall do so, only I
will iakc company with me.

“ 'I but MnjorMephisto is the most gonilcmun-
ly outlaw I over met, and I am indebted to him
for getting out of a bad scrape.

“ But I’ll have to hunt him down all the same,
as that is my business now.

“Come, I‘lussnr, WU have gotten away from
your nnmcsnkcs, and the fort lies about you—
der, and we’ll go on there. to-night I guess,"
and the scout turned the hcad of his horsc in
the. direction that he knew Fort Advance lay,
just as the six Hussars who had been his guard,
believing they were out of sight, turned back
town rd thcir relrcat.

But the scout had his glass upon them, and he
laughed as he saw them going buck to the
cabin, thinking that they were out of his sight.

“These glass eyes are a great thing,” the
scout said with a chuckle, as be replaced the
field-glass in its case and moved more briskly
on over the prairie, for he. wished to reach the
fort by sunrise.

CHAPTER XXI.
THE SECRET MissmN.

THE sun was just peeping over the prairie,
as Biiii‘alo Bill came in full view of Fort Ad-
vance.

The Stars and Stripes went fluttering up to
the top of the fiagstafl', and was salutcd With
the morning gun, the puff of white smokc com~
ing along on the breeze toward the scout, as
though to give him welcome. '

As he drew nearer and was recognizcd, the
soldiers began to cheer him, and the first one
to grasp his hand was Captain (irayson
Vau han.

“ am glad to see you. (Yody, llllfliihe colonel
will be too, for he has bccn expccting you.

“Come to his quarters at once,” said the
handsome young officer, and he led the scout to
headquarters, whcrc Colonel Yulcc gave him a
warm wolcomc.

“Just in time for breakfast, (‘ody, so go in
my spare room yonder and brush up, and than
we will hear all the news.”

The scent gave tho colonel tho dispatches ho
had for himland soon came out fooling qulio
i'rcsh after his night rido.

(’olom-l Yuleo glanced over tho dinniA-licn,
and as tho three sat down to brcnkfust, for
Captain Vaughan messed with his comnmndcr,
he said :

“ Well, (’od ,1 am very glad that (lonorul
Custer was ab o to spare you, and that you were
willing to come.”

“ Yes, colonol, I could not but conic and soer
you, if it is in my power to do so; but what
seems to be the trouble, sir!”

‘ ‘ Road-agents.”

“I expected they would begin to get in their
fine work as soon as the stages began to run
through this country, for some travelers carry
valuable ickings.”

“Yes, ut these knights of the road are a
peculiar set, and their chief work is against
the army.”

“Indeed, sir?”

“Yes, and they call themselves the Masked
Hussars, wearing a uniform and brass hel~
mets.

“ How many there are, l have been unable
to find out, but they appear upon the various
Overland trails, at the most unlocked-for
places and unexpecth times, and they are cer~
tainly under the leadership of a bold, daring
and skillful man.”

“Have they done much damage, sir!”

‘ ‘ Well, they have captured a paymastcr, who
had some ten thousand in money with him, and
then let him go without robbing him, strange
to say: but they took from one stage a courier,
who was returning to the fort after a short
leavc, and deliberately. in the. view of all the
passengers in the stu e, thcy led him out for
execution and boldly s iot him.”

“ This is becoming serious, coloncl.”

“Yes, Cody, for. as I said, thcir enmity
Sccms to be especially against the army.

“ It is to have you find out their haunts,
their force, and the brst way to attack the-m,
that I askcd you of the general, and I feel that.
if any man can do so, you are the one.“

“ Thank you. sir: but did they give no reason
for their execution of this soldier?”

“ None, other than that the leader made. him
bare his left arm, and then he. looked at it
carefully.

“ Then he said:

“ ‘ This man must die,’ and ho dctailcd
thIVc men to fire upon him, and they did
their work well."

“ \Vas tho-re any mnrk upon the unfortunate
man’s arm ’1”

“That We do not know, for the Masked
Iiiissurs carried him oil‘ for burial, and tlw
stage driver told ('uptuin Vaughan of ibc nf~
fair as it occurred."

“ It is strungc, ('olonol, very strangc.” said
the scoii t.

“ You can think of no solution of it!"

“ It looks to me, sir, like a clear mum of re-
vcngc.”

“ So it sccms to mo, Cody.”

“ \Vcro other soldiers stopped by those Hus
stirs!" '

“ Yves, sovi-ral of them.”

“ Any mun now in cmnp’!“

” YW-i, two,”

“ Will you send for them, ('(iiOllo'l l“

l'upmin Vungbnn culled thc orderly, and “In
LW'O lllf‘ll 500]] III) N'flrl‘d. ‘

" Mr. i‘ody wisiws to ask you n fcw quos
tions, int-n." said the coloncl.

'I‘licysalutcd and turned to the scout, who
uskcd:

“ \Vcro you stopped on tho (lvcrland by tin-
roud-agcnts culling ihcmsclvcs the M risked
H ussars i”

“ I was, sir."

"‘ Yis, sur,” wcrc the replies.

“ IVcrc. you together at the time!“

Thu mcn unswcrcd in the ncgnfivo.

“ Where were you stopped by tho IIu-«urs,
my man 1” asked tbc scout of ondof them.

"I was rcfurning from n furlough, sir, and
rode on the singc up on the box with the
driver.

. “The llussars suddenly surrounded us, rid~
ingr splendidly, and not uttering a word.

“The lender tbcn rodo up to IIII‘ couch and
glanced in. and tin-n up at me.

‘f ‘ ict downfibo said to me.

"I obcycd, and be told me to take
coat.

“ i did s0,_aiiil then he made me roll up the
left slecvcoi my shirt.and he glmiccd calmly
at it. ‘

“ TIth he! said;

 

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