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IT SHOWS.

B! B. H. JOHNSON.
—_.I.

 

 

“ It snows l" about the childrenin unmounted glee,
As the feathery flakes thickly fall on the lea,
Enshrouding the earth in a garment of white,
And hiding the brown, gloomy meadows from

si: t.
“ It snows!" see them dancing and leaping in joy!
“ It snows l” Hear the shout from each girl and
etch boy!
Their hearts, with exoectancy, must overflow
As their bright. dancing eyes watch the swift-
falling snow;
And they laugh and they shout,
And tbsil voices ring out
In bums for the snow. ,
The white, feathery snow:
And tallhfe);l talk of the pleasures the morrow will

When leach, down the hillside. will glide on his
ed

8 .

Unmindtul of frost or of keen-biting air.

For these are but trifies unworthy of care;

And they clan their small hands and they dance
to and fro,

Beholding the promise of the fast deepening
snow.

“ It snows l" says the maiden. as out in the night
She see: through her window, the mantle of
w no:
And her features with pleasure and happiness

'
As she watches the crystals of the bridal wreath
snow.
“ It snows 1" and a smile ripples over_her face.
" It snows !" and bright thoughts in her mind find a

. ace,
Of parties and slei'zhrides and all their delights
That 6:181? gladden her life on these long winter
n g ts:
' And her heart, in its joy,
Feels no pain to annoy
As she watches the snow,
‘ The soft feathery snow,
And thinks of the lover whose tall. maul form
And brave, noble heart beating fai ful and
warm,
Who,ere Winter be over, will stand by her side
And claim her in marriage. his own sonny bride-—
And blushes of pleasure her cheeks overflow
As she watches the flakes of the downy like
snow.

“ It snows!" groans the widow, as thickly come
own ‘
The fieecy-lrhite snow-flakes on country and

town.
And she thinks of the Winter so stormy and wild,
And the scant store laid by for herself and her

child. ,
“ lt snowsll” ani a sigh from her burdened heart
we a.
“ lt snows !" and a tear-drop her sufi'erlng tells,
And she prays to her God with a heart filled with

woe
As she watches the fall of the pitiless snow.
’ on from on high,

Hear the poor widow's cry!

H—edher suffering and woe

Through this season of snow.
The swift-falling flakes‘have for her no delight:
She seeksi but a shroud, co d and cheerless and

w to:

No visions of comfort light her woe-stricken

eyes,
But forebodings of want like speclers ari=e,
And tears down her cheeks uurestrainedly flow
As she watches the fall of the unpitying snow.

“ lt snows!" and the man with a generous heart.
Who feels that of good things each should have a

part,
Looks ‘round him to find where the needy ones

ve,

' And opens his heart and his pocket to give.

“ It snore?!“ and he loads up his big two-horse

s eig .

“ it snows!" but he gleefully starts on his way, ,
Dispensing good things to the needy and poor—
For their hungry stomachs, he has a sure cure;

And blessings come down
His good deeds to crown,
As he lessens the woe
That comes with the snow;
And the heart in his bosom beats warme and

I b
As, his_ nd labors o‘er, he comes home when ’tis
ms .
And tells what he's done, to his listening wife,
And says 'tis th» hapziest day in his life;
And he feels in his bosom a beneficent glow
As he thinks of the good the good man may

know,
Whose hand is unsealed by the beautiful snow .

 

John" Hunter’s Eclipse.

The True Story‘ora Woman’s Faith.

BY DB. DAN sto.
“ NOTHING yet, John!”
“ Nothing, Maggie. Nothing in this whole
wide city for any man who is out of work. 0b,

4 . it is terrible to think of what 1 have brought

on to;you who were raised in comfort, almost
uxur . ’

An the strong man groaued as he buried his
face in his hands.

“DearJohn! As though I cared as long as
you are spared to me. “lo cannot starve while
my embroidery yields—-”

“ Stop, Maggie! For Heaven’s sake, stop!
Your embroidery! Do you think I will sit down
and let you work for me? W'hileI have strength
to move a. hand you shall not! Had it not been
for my unfortunate sickness which used up my
small savings and lost me a good position—”

” You could not help that. John.”

“ Maggie, there is but one thing for me to do;
to leave the city: to seek work in new States
where young life and blood are needed. But
you cannot rough it with me. There is only one
way that I can see at present. GO and live with
your father while—~”

“ Never! I would starve first. If I cannot go
with you, at least 1 can stay here and work as
I am doing now until you c n sendfor me.”

Finally it was so arrange , after many bitter
struggles.

That was more than a year ago. Now, for
eight long, weary months no word had come to
bring tidings of him, good or ill, and Maggie
had wasted to a shallow of her former self.

In vain her father entreated, commanded her
to return to his home.

“ You would not help me when you might
have done so; now you cannot. Were John to
return he would look for me here, and here he
will find me."

“ Look for you, indeed!
other wife long ere this.”

To his dying day the Old man repented that
speech. , Like a tigress in her wrath Maggie
fairly flung him from the room.

A few days later, when he sought a reconcili-
ation, Maggie was gone—mo one could tell him
where, nor could he ever trace her.

He probably has an-

 

After leaving his wife, John Hunter’s experi-
ences were very much the same as those of
other young men who find themselves in a new
country minus any capital save brains and a
willingness to work.

One or to 0 trials proved that office work was

too confining until he had more fully recovered

his strength, so be resolved to try out-of-door
work-for a time at least. His search finally
brought him to the lumber regions of the north.
where life in the pine woods had been recom—
mended him by a kindly ph ‘sxcian, who had
given him a few lines to an 01 chum of his who

d a lumber mill not far from the Straits
of Mackinaw.

It was just the time when the camps were
making up to go into the woods for the winter,
and the one to which he was assigned was to
leave the following day; so, hastily getting to-
gether his necessary outfit, he devoted the re-
mainder of the evening to writing a long letter
to Maggie, telling her of his plans for the
]winter, and inolosing the last money be bad
6 t.

" It is only $20.00 per month and iny board," he
wrote, “but it is t at or nothing now, and Mr.
Long said it would build me up as nothing else.
could do. My wants Wlll be Very few. so I can
send you a little, enough to klrcp you from over-
working; and in the spring, with perfectly restor-
m! health, we can ho e for better luck. In the
mean time. if you 0 not hear often. do not
worry, as our chances for getting mail out will

~ be few and forth-tween,“ etc.

The next morning he set oil‘ with the rough

  

set of men, Canadians, half-breeds, “ Poloks,”
that compose the lumber ulation of that re-
mote district, little thinking that his last lorin
letter would never be read by the eyes for whic
it was written.

Always quiet and somewhat remrved. from
the very start he formed a target for the re
marks and rude jokes of the men. At first he
paid no attention to them. The overseer, him~
self a naturally quiet man, but very decided,
and well used to the ways 0. the men he had to
control, gave John a kindly hint that it would
be wiser not to hold aloof, but to make himself
as one of them; after which John did jest and
laugh with them, but it was evidently an effort,
and they resented this introduction of a stran-
ger who did not understand them nor their
wa s.

owever, all went very well until they were
settled in their winter quarters. and for some
time after while they were busy getting to
work, and shaking themselves down to the rou-
tine.

Hard Work it was to the city-bred John; but,
he worked with a will, and if he did not accom-
plish as much as the brawny half-breeds, at first,
he soon quite equaled the . -

“ I would like to inVite you tomy cabin in the
evening ” (the men all bun ed in one big shanty)
Mr. Smith, the overseer; had said, “ but, if I
show any partiality, or favor Iyou in any way,
it will be the worse for you. t is for your own
sake that I do not. They are an ugly, unreason-
ing set of brutes, and yOu must be careful not
to anger them if you value your life. I know of
more than one poor fellow who has come up
here, I’lld suddenly disappeared, never to be seen

“ Oh, I am not afraid of them," John replied;
but fear or bravery had nothing to do with it.

They had set their faces ' st the “ swell,”
as they chose to call him, an the petty annoy-
ances that persecuted him from morning llll

' ht Were but a forerunner of greater evil.

as morning while endeavoring to struggle
into his clothes in the dim light of the‘ fire, and
a couple of tallow dips, on thrusting his foot in-
to his “ corked ” boot, something sharp ran into
his foot, tearing it badly.

Wrapping the wounded foot in a handker-
chief. he lim of! to the overseer’s cabin amid
the boots an jeers of the crowd.

“ It is of no use, John for you to try to stay
here,” said Smith as be bound up the foot with
ointment. “ I shall have to transfer you to an-
other camp, and that cannot be done until the
inspector comes. You are unpopular, and your
life is unsafe. I cannot reasotf with these ruf—
fians, nor protect you from them. My advice
to you, is to wait until they new gone to work,
and if your foot will permit, start for Duncan,
following the trail; it 8 your only chance to es-
cape worse treatment. There is not a man
among them that I dare to trust or I would
send some one with you. Stay here until they
are out of the way, then take food enough to
last you, and decamp. I must go with them
and see that they keep together, or some of them
will be sneaking around to see what you are
domg. Good—by, old fellow, and good-luck to
you!

So it was that, limping painful] through the
deep snow, John Hunter starter? for Duncan,
and was heard from no more.

Her father’s last taunt had been too much for
Maggie. Selling all she had without a word to
any one, she bought an emi rant ticket to the
town where she had last card from John.
Reaching there she patiently traced him from
place to place until she finally reached Dun-

 

can.

This had taken many long months, for, as
often as shefell short of funds, she would be
compelled to stay in a place until she could earn
more, either with her needle or in any honest
way.

it was nearly Christmas of the year after
John had disappeared when she staged into
Duncan one night, almost worn out and utterly
discouraged. Her inquiries next day nearly

 

proved fatal to her remaining strength, for, on
hearing all the owner of the lumber mill could
tell her, she fell fainting to the floor, and it was
lon ere they could restore her.

or story “Sit abroad, and many kind
hands were stre ed cut to help her‘: and all
that long fierce winter she remained there,
buoyed up with the one hope. that would not
desert her—that of seeing ohn alive again.
Not one in all that town shared that hope with
her, for all believed the man had perished in the
woods, and that, some day, perhaps, his remains
would be found to prove his miserable end.

8 ring was late in the following ear. The
ice fingered in the Straits and snow lled every
crevice where it could find =lod out, until
people began to despair of ever see the bare

earth again. The time did come at last when
the streams, freed from icy clutches, went rag—
ing and booming down to the lake, carrying
with them millions of giant logs that had been
wrested from their native forests through the
Inn winter. And after the logs came the men.
Su denly the town was alive with creatures,
half—men, half-brutes they seemed~swearing
fighting and drinking up their freshly-paid
wa es.

a gie shuddered and covered her eyes as a
crow of them passed her Windows.

Was it among such as these that John had
passed his last days?

For a week afterward she stayed indoors as
much as possible; she could not go out among
them, but one evening she was obliged to return
some work and do a little shopping. Hurrying
on, looking neither to the righ nor left, she was
amused by a touch on her arm. Looking up
she saw, towering beside her an immense In-
dian. She was startled, but took courage to
ask: ’

“ Well, what do you want?”

“ Lady lose man, we find him,” he said, im-
pressively.

“ What do you mean?” she gasped.

“ White squaw lose chief; me find him;
twenty dolla’.”

“ Oh, you want money?”

“ No find him, no money.

" What am I to do?” she thought, a leam of
the old hOpe lighting up her pale, troub ed face.
“ I will go to the mill-owner; he will tell me
what to do.”

So she decided, as she said to the Indian:

" Come with me!”

ll'ith an assentin grunt the red-skin followed
to Mr. Ludlow‘s 0 cc.

The owner had gone home, but Mr. Smith
was there, the same who/had sentJobn on his
last journey.

“ What can I do for you, Mrs. Hunter? Has
‘ Lengthy ’ been annoying you i”

:hTell Mr. Smith what you told me,” she
sat .

The Indian thereupon repeated his assertion—
at which Mr. Smith shook his head.

“ You can’t count on anything these fellows
say. The are keen after money, and will do
anything 0 get it. Leave himto me. Gohome
and after supper I will come up to tell you what
to do, ' ‘

Very white, but tient under the delay,:Mag-
gie went home. S e sat like one in a dream un-
til Mr. Smith came.

“ There seems to be somethingin what the red-
skin says,” was his greeting, “ but we can have
small hopes that it can possibly be your bus-
bnnd. It seems that some friendly Indians,
half-Canadians, living on a small island near the
(‘annds shore, have a white man with them who
is out of his mind. Harmless, but. touched a. lit-
tlc. From the time of his stay among them and
the description ‘ Lengthy ’ gives, it may be your
husband, but I think it very doubtful. He says

‘7

that no one can coax him away; for this reason
the Indians have sent him over here as a mess-zen—
201‘. If you care to investigate I will consult
Mr. Ludlow and see what we can do.”

“ I shall go there myself,” was her instant de—
cision.

“ You, Mrs. Hunter? Impossible! You would
not risk yourself in such quarters."

 

" Did you not say the Indians were friendly?”

the man stubbornly refuses to leave the island; '

“Yes; but—”

“ I shall go.”

“ See Mr. Ludlow first.”

“ Of course. But I shall go.”

And she carried out the remlve. The next
steamer conveyed herself, the Indian ‘and Mr.
Ludlow to the point nearest the island. From
there they crossed in a light skiff. As they ap-
proached the island Maggie was white as death,

ut she never faltered.

“ Show me where,” was all she said, as the In-
dian landed her.

They had not far to go. In a sunny spot, with
his back to the water, sat a white man mending
afish-net. Maggie knew him at once, in spite
of his altered appearance. Walking quietly in
front of him she said: ‘

“ John!”

“ Is that you, Maggie.come at last?” he asked,
looking up at her. “ I knew you would come.
Let’s 0 home: I’m tired of this.” .

An getting up he placed his hand in hers and
suffered her to lead him like a child.

The others followed them. John made no re-
sistance, but entered the boat, keeping his eyes
always on Maggie. “ Lengthy ” took the oars,
and they were soon steering for the landing
port. '

Duncan was wild with excitement when, a
few days later, Maggie brought her husband
“ home. ”

From the moment John saw her his reason
seemed gradually to return, but it was many
weeks before he could tell her of that dreadful
time when he left camp only to be lost and
driven to the verge of starvation, finally to be
picked up by some Indians, in a semi-conscious
condition, from which he passed into a. violent.
fever. After that, he remembered nothing un-
til he saw Maggie standing before him.

Before winter again set in, John was able to
begin life again, is time finding willing hands
to aid him.

The young couple are doing more than well
now. John has an interest in a new enterprise
growing out of the lumber business, and Meg-
gie is occupied with the care of two pretty chil-
dren; all of which happiness, J ohn is fond of
declaring, comes from a woman’s faith.

The Cohort of Five;

9

 

Dick Talbot’s Great Clean-Out.

The Romance of a J u‘st Vengeance.

 

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, ,
AUTHOR or “OVERLAND KIT,” “ROCKY MOUN-
TAIN nos,” “ THE rassn or ’rmsco,”
“BRONZE JACK,” " TEE LONE
HAND,” are, ETC.

 

CHAPTER XI.
run PLOT.

“ I'r ain’t so, don’t you be afeard of that!”
Bulldog Bill exclaimed; then he got up and sol-
emu‘lg shook hands with Black Mac.

“ ho is this sport anyway i” be queried as he
resumed his seat. “ V’ot kind of a man is be?
We have had some pretty hefty galoots in the
camp afore, and Mac hyer allers succeeded in
knocking ’em out."

“ Well, this Talbot is a good man. that are no
two ways about that!” the mayor asserted. “ If
he hadn’t been a good ,man he would not have
succeeded in gettin the best of Mac hyer, and
I helped Mac too a I was able.”

“ Oh, yes, we must not make the mistake of
underrating the man,”the exile declared. “ He
is a dangerous foe and we will not be able to get
the best of him without a hard fight.”

“ That is so 3" the mayor asserted.

“ W'a-al, of course you two know more about
the cuss than w’ot I do,” Bulldog Bill observed
in his slow way. “ I don’t blame ye fOr going
in for to make a sure thing Of it, and I am with
you, ,boys, any way you want to play the

me.

“ I have ota scheme all cut and dried,” Black
Mac remar ed.

“ Spit it out! we are in with you to go the
whole hog!” the mayor exclaimed.

“ Yes, you bet !” cried Bulldo Bill.

“ Well, there is not any use 0 minclng words
about the matter,” Black Mac remarked.
“ This fellow got the best of me in every way,
and”nothing short of his death will satisfy
me.

“ That is the talk !” the saloon-keeper exclaim-
ed. “ That is me to a ha’r; Wuen I have got it
in for a man I want to kill him and don’t you
forgot it!” The fellow displaying all the fero-
city of the brute after whom he was named.

“ Talbot not only run me out of the town, but
spoilt my game in every way," the exile as-
sorted.

“ That is as true as gospel,” the mayor re—
marked.

“In the first place‘ I arrangfgl a nice little
plan to get hold of the Heather ll Mine, which
I! as valuable a. piece of property as there is in
this section,” Black Mac continued.

“The death Of Donald Maxwell gave me a
chance, and if it had not been for this sport
there is no doubt the mine would have fallen
into my hands."

“ That is true enough,” Mayor White assent.
ed. “ I know how well Mac was playing the
game, and he would have come out a Winner
beyond a doubt if this man Talbot had not in-
terfered.”

“ Yes, and then I had my plans laid to marry
Diantha Maxwell,”Black Mac remarked, adark
frown on his face. “ I wanted the girl. and I
would have got her too had it not been for this
sport: so you see he has upset my game gener-
all .”

‘¥Wa-al, you kin uare the matter now by
sending him to blazes! ' Bulldo Bill exclaimed.

“That is the programme!” Vhite remarked.
“ But how are you going to work it ?"

“ I have had my spies in the camp for some
time, so I am well posted in regard to all that
has transpired lately.”

" Then you know that Talbot is not in the
camp at present?” the mayor asked.

“ Yes, and that is the reason why I am here.
I intend to take advantage of his absence to
seize the Heather Bell property."

“ Good as wheat!” cried Bulldog Bill, rubbing
his hands together gleefully. “ That is the talk!
that is war, that is!”

The mayor looked a little doubtful.

“ I say, Mac, that is a pretty strong measure,
you know. and though of course as mayor of-
the camp I will do all I can to help you. yet you
want to keep inside of the law if you can.

“ You see, the camp has changed a great deal
during the last year; a rest many new men
have come in, and the majority of them are hon«
est, hard-working miners, who were attracted
by the report that we had a boom hyer, so that
the camp is not half as rough as it used to be,
and if you go too far thar may be trouble.”

“Ob,don‘t you be alarmed about that,” Black
Mac replied. “ I am going to act inside the

 

law, every time. I am oing to jump the mine
because I claim that it elongs to me. Here is
a bill of sale of the Heather Bell property, exe-
cuted by Donald Maxwell to me, on the day of
his death, as it happened, to secure me for the
sum of twenty thousand dollars, which he owed
mo,” and as he spoke Black Mao drew a large
pocketbook from the breast-pocket of his pen-
jackct. and took out a legal-looking document
which he gave to the mayor.

White examined the paper with great inter- ‘
est.

” Yes. yes, this seems to be, all right and regu- .
Jar,” he observed. lewlv. “and you have two ,
witnesses, I see. Leadville Mat and Bow~legged
Billv.”

“ Yes. th y happened to be in the neighbor—
hood when the paper was drawn out, and we
called them into the office to witness it: of
course they were pledged to keep quiet about ,

 

the matter, for Donald Maxwell didn‘t want the 1

 

thing to get out, but they will swear to seeing
the paper executed, though, and heard Maxwell
admit that he had received the money."

“ Suppose I was a lawyer, trying to find a
flaw in this thing, and should ask you how it
was that you came to loan Maxwell such a large
amount of money?” the mayor asked.

“ The reply ls readily given : Maxwell and my-
self had been playing poker for some time, and
the twenty thousand dollars represented the
amount of his losses.”

“ Yes es, I see; and this paper is all in Don-

- 3’
old Maitwell‘s handwriting, too.”

“ You can bear witness to that.”

“ Oh, es. 1 am well acquainted with his
writing, ut it is a pity, though, that you didn’t
have some better witnesses than Leadville Mat
and Bow-l gged Billy,” White observed, reflec-
tively. “ he reputation of both of them is
pretty bad, and most men would be apt to say
that for a ten-dollar slug the galoots would be
willing to swear to anythin .”

“That’s so!” Bulldog Bifi asserted. “. Them
two b..cks would swear the legs off of an iron
gotand a hole through the bottom afterward.

hey are no good! Bigger liars ain’t to be found
in the camp.”

“ Well, they were the only men handy, and
the fact that the paper can be proven to be in
Donald Maxwell’s hande iting is a point which
will help their testimony.”

“Yes, that is true enough, unless somebody
comes forward and swears that they know you
to be an expert penman, capable of imitating
almost anybody’s handwriting,” Observed Gid—

eon White, shrewdly. _
“Yes: but where is the man who can do
that?” Black Mac asked. "There is not a soul

in the town who knows anything about my tal-
ents in that line, with the exception of your-
self, and I reckon you ain’t going to tell what
you know.”

“ Of course, not!” Bulldog Bill exclaimed.
“The rilfle is a good ’un. and you kin make it as
easy as rolling off a log.”

“ You see, backed by this paper, I will have a
good excuse for seizing the mine,” the exile ob-
served. “ And the chances are that I will not
have much trouble about the matter, for Talbot
is absent, totally unsuspicious that any danger
threatens, of course, or else he would not go
away. and the men at the mine Will not be on
their guard, so it is likely I can jump the claim
and secure possession without much trouble.”

“ It is a bully scheme!” cried the saloon-keep-

er. - »

“ It certainly ought to work,” the mayor re-
marked.

“ After I get possession Of the property, then
Talbot, when he returns, will have to raise an
army to get me out, and in the fight I calculate
to be able to lay him out.”

“ But. I say; how about the girl, Diantha—
Mrs. Talbot, as she is now?” asked the mayor.
“ Will she not be apt to raise a row? and the
miners, you know, will be sure to sympathize
with a woman.”

“My game is not to allow her to tell her
story, ’ replied the plotter.

“ After I secure the mine I will have her car-
ried secretly away by some of in men and
confined in a lonely cabin which have had
built in a secluded spot a few miles from the

cam .

“ You. Mr. Mayor, will receive a letter from
the lady in which she admits that my claim to
the mine is good and states that rather than at-
tempt to take the property from me by force
she would prefer to buy me off, and has gone
away to raise money for that purpose.”

"By thunder! that is the biggest kind of a
scheme!” cried White, impressed with the skill
with which the plot had been arranged.

“ I rather think it will work,” Black Mac re-
sponded, with a grim smile Of satisfaction.
“And if anybody dares to doubt the truth of
this, or to Object to my measures, I do not see
what they can do, for I calculate to have every
fighting-man in the town who is willing to take
money for his services, and by so doing 1 can
raise”a. force big enough to crush all Opposi-
tion.

“ It will work—it will work, you kin bet your
life onto it!” the saloon-keeper cried, rubbing his
big hands together in exultation.

“ I don‘t see any reason why the thing won’t
be a big success,” White remarked.

“ It is a big thing for you that Talbot is out
of town, for you will gain such an advantage
that he will not be able to make much of a fight.
when he returns."

“ As I told you, I have had my spies here for
some time—ever since I got money enough to
enable me to go ahead, in fact, and the moment
I learned that Talbot had left the camp I
hurried here so as to strike the blow before his
return.

“ B the way, have you anyidea where he has
gone? ’ Black Mac asked, abruptly.

“ NO, none at all,” the mayor replied. “ I
s’pose his wife knows, but no one else does, as
far as I know, for Talbot is a terribly close—
mouthed fellow.”

“ SO in spies reported; all they could learn
was that e went to the north, but where he was
bound or when he would return they could not
find out.

“ My little game, though, is, after I have se-
cured the mine, to put a party out on the road
so as to intercept Talbot.”

“ Ah, yes, I see: wipe him out before he can
get to the camp,” the mayor said.

“ Yes, that is the scheme; come the road—
agent business on_ him, and then no one will be
able to trace his death to my door.”

“It is jest bully, and you kin count me and _

all my gang in,” the saloon—keeper exclaimed.

“ When will you make the move?” the mayor
asked.

“ To—night; no time is to be lost; strike when
the iron is hot: that is my motto! That is the
reason whv I came, so you would know What
was up. By midnight I will be master of the
Heather Bell property !”

CHAPTER XII.
THE ATTACK.

THE shades of night had fallen upon No Man’s
Camp; steadily the hours passedaway until mid-
night came, and the bum and bustle which al-
ways prevailed in the town during the evening
began to diminish.

One by one the minch departcd for their
homes, the groups of loiterers in the saloons dis—
persed, and only the all—night men—the gam-
blers and drinking fellows who turned night
into day and kept the hours sacred to the owl——
remained up in the town.

One by one the places of public resort shut
their doors and put out their lights as their
patrons departed, until only the two all-night
resorts, the Golden Hairpin Saloon, kept by the
dashing girl known as ’Frisco Nell. and the
Little Brown Jug Ranch, Bulldog Bill Dono-
van’s sliebnng. remained Open.

It was the boast of these two places that thev
never closed, but they did, though, for NO Man’s
Camp was not yet a big enough metropolis to
furnish patrons to keep two games running
every night in the week.

B th of the saloons had done an unusually
good business on this night of which we write,
and the wide~awake mistress of the Golden Hair-
pin Ranch had wondered why it was that on this
occasion so many of the well-known tough citi-
zens of the camp seemed to be so well supplicd
with money: men who were seldom known to
be flush seemed to be lavish with thclr ducats,
wandering from saloon to saloon, “setting ’em
up " for the boys with extreme liberality.

Then. too. there appeared to be ( uite a num—
ber of strangers in the camp, all 0 them toler-
nbly bard cases. too, unless their appearance
greatly belied them, and these men also seemed
to be flush with the solid stuff.

The girl. being a close observer, did not fail
to notice these facts. and was greatly puzzled to
3000th for them.

The camp tonghs and the strangers appeared
to go in little squads, three to five men in a
group. and the quick apprehensions of the girl
warned her that something out of the common
was about to happen.

What it was, though, she could not guess, and

 

 

the more she reflected upon the matter the
greater she was puzzled.

She racked her bram' s to solve the mystery;
there was not anything going on in the camp
as far as she knew to account for the thing, and
as the keeper of the principal saloon in the place,
of course she was well posted as to the news of
the day. '

About midnight the patrons of the Golden
Hairpin began to disperse, but between twelve
and one the girl noticed that the toughs appear—
ed to be as plentiful as ever, apparently disposed
to keep it up all night.

The curiosity of ’Frisco Nell was so excited
that she called her “ head bouncer ”—AS the
brawny fellow whose business it was to keep
order in the saloon was termed. .

Old Man Mike Finnigan this arty was called,
a muscular six-footer, able to andle with case
any ordinary man, although he was well ad-
vanced in years.

“ Mike, do you notice all these tough fellows
hanging round tonight?” she asked.

“ Yes; ’deed I do; thar’s an army of ’em, an’
I bin expectin’ trouble, for they are all h’isting
freely, but I reckon we won‘t have any arter
all, for they ’pear to be quiet,” the bouncer an-
swered.

“ There’s a good man strangers.”

‘ ‘ Right you ar’, an’ I have jest been a-wonder—
ing whar they all come from, ’cos I didn’t notice
any of them today.”

“No, they were not in the town, they must
have struck it since nightfall.”

“ I reckon so.”

" Something is up.”

“ ’Pears like it was.”

“ I wish you would go out and see if you can
discover hat is going on.”

“ All right.”

The bouncer departed—was absent some fif-
teen minutes, and then returned.

“ Can’t find out anything,” he reported,
“though I tried for to pump some of the boys.
It beats all how they are throwing out their
money to—night. I axed a few of ’em how it
was that the were so flush with their rocks,
but they all lowed that they wasn’t flush, they
had caught on to a few ducats, enulf to pay for
a drink or two, but that was all.”

“ There is something wrong !” ’Frisco Nell ex-
claimed with a decided shake of her beautiful
head. “ I don’t know what it is, but I am satis-
fied that all is not right.”

“ ’Pears that way to me,” the bouncer Ob-
served with owl-like gravity.

At half-past one all of the toughs suddenly
vanished from the Golden Hairpin and as they
did not return, ’Frisco Nell. who was the prey
of a nervous apprehension for which she could
not account, again sent the bouncer forth to re-
connoiter.

In a few minutes he returned with the infor-
mation that there was a big game running at
Bulldog Bill‘s place, and that there was twenty-
five or thirty of the fellows congregated there.

“ Some mischief is afoot!” the girl declared,
impressively. “ And, strange as it may appear,
I have an apprehension that it threatens me, or
some one in whom I have an interest.”

“ “’11- al, I reckon they ain't a—going for us
hyer !” the bouncer declared. “ I hope not, any-
way, for if the gang over thar should go in to
work together, they could clean out anything
in the cam .”

At two O‘clock the last patron departed from
the Golden Hairpin Saloon: none of the tougbs
had returned, and again ’Frisco Nell sent Old
Man Finnigan forth to see what he could dis—
cover.

This time the bouncer reported that there
was only a small poker-party in the Little
Brown Jug Saloon, and that all the roughs had
disappeared.

“ I tried to pump Bulldog Bill,” the bouncer
said, in conclusion. “ Axed him if he didn’t
think the town had been unusually lively to-
night. but he wouldn’t have it. Said he did not
think business had been brisk—he had not taken
in as much money as usual.”

“ The man lies,” ’Frisco Nell declared, prompt-
ly, “ that is. if his place has done anywhere
near as well as we have. I am satisfied that
our bar has done a third more to-night than
usual.”

Although haunted by strange and unaccount-
able apprehensions, the girl was not able to dis-
cover that there were any good and substantial
reasons for them, although while her men were
closing the saloon she took the trouble to go out
in the street in order to see if she could discover
anything.

She even went so far as to peep into the Little
Brewn Jug Saloon, which was still open, not ap-
parently intending to close.

There were a few men playing poker in the
back of the saloon, all solid citizens, the mayor
among the number, but none of the toughs were
visible.

“There is' dun er in the air, though—I can
feel it!” ’Frisco ell muttered, as she slowly re-
turned to her saloon.

And just as the girl was uttering the thought
a strange scene was transpiring in the outskirts
of the town.

The Heather Bell Mine was now employing
eight men, but only four Of them slept on the
property.

There was a watchman, a big Irishman an-
swerin to the name Of Andy Flynn. who kept
guard uring the silent hours of the night.

There was a large rock which cropped out of
the earth amid a little clump of pines about
twenty feet from the main entrance to the mine,
and this was the watchman’s favorite resort.

He could sit on the rock, lean back against a
convenient tree and enjoy his pipe \\ bile the
hi ht hours waned.

t was insinuated that. Flynn often was able
to catch a nap While he was supposed to be kw p—
ing a vigilant watch. but this the Irl>1nnnn al-
ways indignantly denied.

On this night of which WP write, as eye-ry-
thing was quiet, the watchman had been taking
a nap, but woke up about: fun o‘clock. refilled
his pipe and proccmlet. to e njoy n (llllt‘t smoke.

Just as he got his pipe “ell—lighted he heard
footsteps approaching, and up from the, road
which led to the toxvn came a man whose uncer—
tain steps betrayed that be had been indulging
in more liquor than was good for him.

“ Bednd! there’s u big timpcrance lecture!”
exclaimed the watchman as be u‘itncsm-d the ir~
regular appn sch of the man.

When the fellow come up so the wnlclunnn
could see him distinctly—4m) moonlight render-
ed all objects almost as visible as by day—
Flynn saw that the n on was a stranger, a big,
musoular fellow with rcd hair 9nd beard.

“ Faix! I don’t think I have evo r been
afther seeing this chap More,” the watchman
muttered.

The man got within a couple of yards of Flynn
before be perceived him, and then be straight-
ened up and made him a low bow.

Hc attempted to perform this movement with
a great deal of dignity, and as a result lost his
be sure and would have fallen flat if the watch-
man had not caught and held him up.

“ Hould on there!” Flynn cried. “ You will
be down on the fore-front of yer face the furst
thing ye know.”

“My foot slipped—alreadful slippery ground
all up this rouo,”the stranger responded, with
true drunken gravity.

“ (lb, yis, if yo had skates on ye could have a
felon time.” Flynn remarked, snrcastu-allv.

“ Soy, is this hyer the llcatbcr Bell Mine?”
asked the stranger. peering around him.

“ It in the same." .

“ This is the place I want, then. "‘

“ You don’t say so!”

“ Yeszand you‘re Mister Flynn, I reckon.”

The addition of the mister to his name, a
cmnpliment which was rarely bestowed upon
him. pleased the Irishman.

“ Yes, sur,” he replied, very graciously.
am Mister Flynn ”

“Andy Flynn ?"

“ The same, sur.”

“ (,lld boss, you are jest the man I want to
see!"

And the stranger wrung the Irisliman‘s band
Violcntly.

llI

 

 

 

  

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