v...— .( 1..“ w...- you still desire to face your unnatural parents, you can do so under my protection—your bus- and’s protection. How sweet to think that we will soon be married! Tell me, my beautiful Elise: is it not as Well to do this!” Had she noticed his grimacing as he urged her thus, it would have been sufficient to tell her that he was not Jules Willoughby, so hawkish, eager, leopard—like, with a burning glitter in the eyes, and the grin of a hyena round the white teeth. But she was looking, silent and thought- ful, down at the carpet. It was evident that his suggestions had considerable weight with her. “ In that case, what becomes of my heritage, Jules?” she questioned, slowly. “ To the devil with--- No, no, I mean to say, we can return in a month, in six months, to prove your claims. Meantime, we will have a tour of pleasure---a honeymoon---and I can tell you of my advi-ntures during my faithful search after you. Your heritage afterward, my dear Elise-«our marriage first. Eh?” “ Whatever you say, dear Jules,” she an- swered; and as she thus readily yielded to the desire of Varlan Crosier, he could have jumped to the ceiling in ecstasy. “ I will procure the minister immediately,” he said, rising. “ When you are my wife, we will bid defiance to a host of enemies.’ “I shall feel so safe in your protection, dear J ules.” “ Yes, yes. I say I’ll go for the minister, and have him unite us at once.” “ Do not be gone long.” “ Not a minute!” he declared; and within: “’Sblood! I’ll be back on wings, so as to hold her in my arms! Joy! joy! She is mine. Henceforth, to the world, to her, I am Jules Willoughby, npothecary’s clerk. Glorious. But I’ll hasten.” As he turned to depart-"moment of unutter— able bliss!---Elise, as if to chide him for a for- gotten something, held him tight and presented her ripe red lips. Varlan Crosier, with a plea- sure-dizzied brain, kissed the mouth so tempt- ingly upheld, and then strode from the room, fo lowed by W ynder. In the hallway the half-crazed man flung his arms aloft and waved them to and fro, shook his clinched fists in the air, and shook his head on his shoulders, grinning with ferocious exu— berance. “ Ho! it is heavenly! She is mine! Glorious Elise! It could not be better! Remember, \Vynder, you dog! I am to be known hereafter as Jules Willoughby. I have changed my name, my identity. I am no longer Captain Varlan Crosier, of the dragoons, but Jules Willoughby, apothecary’s clerk. Ha! ha! ha! Excellent! H oil-o!” “ But I say, hang it! where are you going to find a minister?" asked W ynder. “ Here, in this house!” gibbered Crosier, de- lightedly; “when I entered our names in the book, I saw, on the line above: ‘ Reverend J ona— than Wardly.” “Yours truly. Then we will seize upon the Reverend Jonathan.” “ Yes. Come on. What bell was that we heard a few minutes ago?” “ Dinner, I guess. And I’m getting wolflshly hungry again.” They were gassing the apartment in which they had left tells ellerayon. “ See!” cried Varlan Crosier, pausing, step- ping in, and glancing round. “ I knew she had left this room. Is it not all lain now?” W ynder was perplexed. 'e was sure that his captain had accidentally found the true Elise, and that he was ignorant of, or blind to, the fact that the lovely female whom they had just left was not the one they had brought to the tavern. While he was confident that Crosier’s supposition—that Stella had recovered and wandered to the second room, where they found Elise, whom he believed to be hen-was wrong, at the em ty room puzzled him now, when he Earl seen Stella sleeping there, so recently, Wltlil‘ the prospect of not awakening for some hou s. “ llang it, captain! I don’t understand,” he said, coming forward. “ I see she ate heartily ” —--noting the disarranged viands on the tray, “ and drop )ed her knife ”--«pointing to the knife which Stel a had essayed to use on her own throat, “and what has she done with her bed- quilt‘!”—mnrking the absence of the uilt, “ and what is this?” finally going to the Window, and bending to look at a blood-stain; “ blood, cap- tain—here’s blood, by Jupiter!” “ ’Sdeath! what can that mean?” exclaimed Crosier, advancing, and also examining a_ single drop of blood that was still fresh on the Sill. “ Captain, the whole thing is very plain to me__7) “ HO! it is plain to you! 'Well, what does that blood-mark mean, hey, rascal?” “ I told you that our pursuers were on our heels. You told me that the bearded man said he had found Elise De Martine, and brought her to the tavern. Now, while you have stumbled upon the true Elise, our pursuers have discovered Stella Bellerayon—come upon her _while she_was eating, wrapped her up in the quilt, and given her chloroform besides. She has not been taken without a struggle; and this drop of blood, and this stain "—picking up the knife, on the blade of which he showed a stain, like a Single, streak- ing Spurt from a small artery—“ these bear Wit- ness to her bravery and resistance. Don’t you see!” _ The drop of blood on the sill, and the stain on the knife, were from the hand of Jules Willough- by, who had slightly wounded himself when he stayed the intended stroke of the blade across the throat of Stella Bellerayon, ‘ “ You lie-—you dog !——-you lie!’ be snapped, harshly. “ There is but one Elise. Stella Belle- rayon and Elise De Martino are. the same per- son. I shall break your neck if you dare to gainsay it !” “ De )end upon it,” VVynder hastened to say, “ I sha 1 not dispute the fact. To satisfy you, I herewith affirm that they are one and the same person,” adding inwardly: “The lunatic may 0 on. I am tired of trying to show him his olly. He is as crazy as a bug,"and aloud again, suddenly: “ But look there, captain!” ' Crosier followed the direction of his finger. They saw the burly Thadlis at the farside of the garden, moving stealthin and skulking behind occasional bushes. . _ “ That rascal of a stabler!” exclaimed CrOSier. “ W'hat is that he has on his shoulder?" “ A man ” said W nder. “ And a dead manfl should judge. Ho! what is he doin now ?” Thadlisghalted at an old, unused well that was in one of the far corners of the garden. He placed his burden on the huge pail that was there, and bound it fast with some remnants of the quilt strips which he had brought along. Having lashed the body to the iron handle of the bucket and to the knot of. the rope above the handle, he began slowly unWinding the Windlass , and when the rope was, all paid out, he severed ' ith a leamin kni e. It ‘V‘V’Sbloogd! he hEs put a: mean down the well-"a man! ‘Who can it )e’. deagynder’s eyes were keener than Varlan Cro- sier’s in this instance. He had recognized the face of the inanimate body as that of Jules W 11- 10ughl)y, or the man he had seen in the kitchen, at Willowold, and since on the arnyal of the stage, and whom he had heard his captaln anathematize as Jules Willoughby. But he said no’I‘thliildglis turned away from the well, and 9:9- proached the house-«watched by Varlan Crosier and Worth W nder; watched by a third party, for the short, fat, shrewd-faced doctor, happenl; ing to be at the window of the room in whic lay Wilse De Martipzildettecttpg the whole sus- ' ceedin o e s a . pigzg‘ulisaltriogue gas murdered somebody!” re- solved the diminutive physician;“and I shall take care that he does not leave the tavern until- have thorou hly overhauled him.” Wgust then. Cgosier andWVynder heard the5 dull blast of a horn, sounding as if at the frog of the house, and some distance up the roa t. The noise of the horn had scarce died on , when they heard a thump! thump. thump in the hall. “’Sblood! it is the man with a beard. Shut the door~—quick !” W ynder closed the door to a crack, and .through the crack he poked his nose to watch the bearded man go past. “ Ha! ha! it’s the stage. The officers have come,” \Vynder heard him say, to himself, as he thumped his wooden leg along the passage. “ Captain.” “ Well '5” “ The stage has arrived.” “ The stage!” echoed Crosier, in surprise; “ what stage i” “ Bound for u -countr I 811 ose from Nashville.” p y, pp ’ “ But it is not due till three o’clock, and now ’tis no more than thirty minutes after eleven. It cannot be the stage,” and he glanced at his watch-dial. “ Yours truly. But you’ve forgotten a little item.” “ Forgotten l—what?" “You told me the bearded man said there would be oflicers out here in the next stage. A few dollar 3, you know, considering the business they’re on --” “ Yes, to carry out the plan of some miserable adventuress who has concocted a story to prove herself Elise De Marcine.” “ Exactly. That may have brought the stage ahead of time,”concluded \Vynder. “Take my advice, captain, and marry your Elise as quick- ly asypossible.” “ es; we will not delay aminute. When she is my wife, then we shall confound the adven- turess, whoever she is, and spoil the plot of this man with a beard—«death on him! Come. Fol— low me. ’Sblood!” Crosier jerked open the door and strode away. As he turned into the entry leading to the forward staircase-"turned sharp and swift—- he came face to face with the burly stabler, Thadlis. (To be continued—commenced in No. 434.) MY LOVE AND I. BY M. H. Hand in hand together In golden autumn weather We watched the eastern sky, And all the world grew strangely still As slowly in the distance The moon rose o’er the hill. The shadows passed us by, The moon rose slowly as of old, This night it seemed of purer gold; We often watched it—he and I, , And whispered words so lowly spOken That only hearts could hear, For love’s own token Needs not the herald’s cry. All nestled close. I listened To the sweetest story That e’er was told on land Or sea. Ah, me! That autumn’s glory! The cricket’s chirp, The song of Chickadee. We never mourned the summer weather. Hand in hand, my love and I, In autumn‘s gold we stood together And watched the eastern sky. [All Dramatic Rights Reserved] Red Butterfly, THE SPY OF THE OVERLAND; on, The Nine Scouts’ League. ‘ A Story or Real Characters' of Wild \Veuern Life. BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM. CHAPTER LX. THE TRAIL’s END. PARSON PAUL was as deliberate in all he did as a man who knew that there was no hurry and that haste might spoil a well-laid plan. He halted at dawn until the stranger had gone on for a long distance. Then he took the mufflers off of the hoofs of his horse and followed the trail unerringl y. He knew the ground well, and he stuck to that trail as a hound would have done only he did not wish to gain upon the one who ed. All day long he followed, and now and then he would come to a ridge with a plain beyond, and he could have a view for miles ahead. And then his glass showed him the man he was tracking. As dark came on, the parson pressed on a little more rapidly until he could no longer see the trail. Then he halted for much-needed rest for man and beast. I The next morning, with the first glimmer of dawn, he was again on the trail, and, after go- ing along for a couple of hours, branched of! in- to a canyon, then went ahead on foot. He was gone for several hours. _ Then he returned to his horse, and, mounting, went on the back trail at a lively gait. I He went straight to his cabin, arriving late in the night, and set to work cooking prov1s10ns in great quantity. Then he sat down and wrote three separate notes, and, this done, he looked to his weapons, got out some more ammunition, and, saddling his horse, threw his bag of provisions across his back, along with a roll of blankets. Then he set off on foot through Miner’s Roost, where he went to the hotel-stables and got one of Landlord J err ’s best horses. An hour after ound him camping in a canyon, where, after staking his horse out, he mounted the led animal and dashed away at a rapid pace just as dawn began to break. . All day he was gone, but after nightfall he returned and on foot. Then he mounted his own horse, rode down the Overland Trail until he came to where the Stranger had turned off, and pressed rapidly on b O h the ni ht. t Jug? at dawgn he sought a hiding-place and nt into cam . W‘It was noonp when he awoke, and he went away on foot, leaving his horse and traps. . What he went for he seemed to have discov- ered, for he came back and settled down for an- other rest. , , At night he changed his camping-place, and everv now and then, as he walked along—for he spared his horse all in his power—he halted and seemed to stick something _in the ground. _ Finding another camping-place, he again went ofl? on foot, and after a walk of a couple of miles came in sight of the glimmer of camp- fires. . He went cautiously now, and after consider- able difiiculty got a view of what appeared to be a camp of soldiers, for a number of tents were in view. And as he watched them, men were seen striking camp, and a large cavalcade of horse- men and pack-animals moved aWay in a norther- 1 direction. . yThe parson followed on foot until he saw them file into a narrow canyon leading into the very heart of the mountains. _ Then he returned to his horse, and mounting, rode rapidly up a valley toward a lofty range. He gained a high ridge before dawn, and then again went into camp, as though to wait for some one, for he took up a position on a rock with his glass in hand. Dawn came, and still he watched. ' _ Then he saw more horsemen come in Sight.- They rode along a shelf of rock. overhanging a deep canyon, some seventy feet in width. The shelf ended there, and they could go no r. . fulfil]: two men appeared on the other SKIS} and one of them shot an arrow across to w ch 9. string was attached. . Then the larger crowd drew on the string un- til a rope came over, and the two men on the other side began to push at some long black ob— ject until the others had drawn it across the chasm and made it fast to the pines that grew along the edge of the canyon. Ropes were stretched out then on either side and made fast to trees, and the parson’s glass revealed a strong bridge across the chasm. Soon after other horsemen appeared in sight, and a number of pack-animals. One by one the horses were led across the seemingly frail bridge, aid without a single ac- cident. Then all but two men on foot had crossed, and these let go the lines and cables, and the bridge was drawn slowly back to the other side and disappeared. Then the two men went back down the trail. But the parson was on their track and afoot. He followed them for miles until they came to a place where they could cross the canyon. Still he tracked them, and when they reached the 3 0t where he had last seen the crowd drag the ridge over, there were horses awaiting them, which they mounted and rode away. But the parson followed and at night again came in sight of the glimmenof camp-fires. He crept forward and lay for a long while taking in the situation. At last he started upon his return to his horse, and wearied out arrived at daybreak. . After a rest of some hours he took out his note—book and wrote something upon it. This he fastened to a stick, and riding to the spot where the bridge had been stretched across the canyon he stuck it up in a place where it wou‘ld be seen by any one coming to the ledge of roc 5. Having done this he went at a rapid pace down the trail the horsemen had come, rounded the mouth of the canyon and went upon the other side toward the place where he had last seen the camp. It was a long ride, and a hard one, for he fol- lowed his own ideas of the direction. At last he came near the other side of the can- yon where the bridge had been stretched across, and going into camp went about on foot as though searching for something. His search was successful, for he returned to his camp with the remark: “ I have done my duty and _they must do theirs.” CHAPTER LXI. THREE SLIPS OF PAPER. “ AT last!” cried Jack Crawford, as going his rounds after a letter from the Surgeon Scout, he found there a slip of paper. He had never missed his dangerous mission of going the rounds once every two weeks, but, except in two instances, he had each time met with disappointment. Now he opened the‘slip of paper and read: “ The League is needed at once. “ Also force of soldiers. not less than forty. “Avoid coming through mining-camps and meet - at Death’s Canyon " If no one there to meet you, find slip of paper by marble cross under ground, and follow directions. ’ Away went Jack Crawford with all haste to the ford to give the slip of paper to Buffalo Bill and tell him that the Surgeon Scout was not dead, as all had again begun to fear was the casc. That same day Sunset Sam was driving along on the Overland, when he drew rein by a large tree not far from Miner’s Roost. A branch of the tree extended over the trail, and, standing upon his‘box, Sunset Sam put his hand over the limb. It returned with a slip Of paper found there, pinned securely to the limb. He at once opened the paper and read: “ If you meet Red Rider, tell him to give you his pouch to take back to Jumping Off City while he waits at Death’s Ranch for company. “ He will find slip in his office.” Sunset Sam drove rapidly on, and there was an expression on his face as though he felt satis- fied with himself, and that evemng he arrived at Hard Times two hours ahead of his usual hour. Along the Overland Trail, flying like the very wind and approaching the most dismal part of the road, was a horseman. ' It was Red Butterfly, mounted upon his fleet- est and best horse. But he halted suddenly as he drew in sight of the marble cross erected on the spot where the stage-coach had been wiped out of existence, and, throwing aside the leaves and some loose earth, took out of the ground a slip of paper. It was as follows: “Have made the discovery, and notified League, and soldiers. “ You are to send your pouch through by Sam, if you have not yet met him and seen his slip of pa- er. p “ Then go to Blue Rock and strike my trail and see how it is marked. “Return here and await coming of League and cavalry, and guide them by marked trail, lead where it may. “ The end is at hand." The Red Rider of the Overland read this slip of paper several times, and then, mounting his horse, set out to obey orders. That night he returned to the Death Canyon, and sought a secure hiding-place to camp, but from which he could see the marble cross and any one going there. , It was nearly dawn when he was awakened by the sound of hoof-falls, and he knew that those he expected had arrived, so he gave the Pony Rider’s call peculiar to him. It was promptly anewered, and advancing he beheld a number of horsemen. ' “ Bravo. Red Butterfly, you are here,” cried Buffalo Bill, meeting him. “ Yes, sir, and I am glad to see you here so soon.” ‘ “ We pushed hard; but here is Lieutenant Ames and his company, besides my League.” . They all greeted the Red Butterfly, who said: “ I will et my horse and go at once and camp on the trans until dawn, for it will be best not to be seen.” So he led the way, Bufl'alo Bill by his side, and who asked: “ But who sent you there to await us, Red Butterfly?” “ I received secret orders from one whom I always obey.” ‘ So on they rode, the Red Rider leading the way, until they reached the point where he had gone upon receiving the slip of paper, and mark- ed the trail. Going into camp for a few hours, they then mounted and pressed on, "the Red Butterfly following the trail which the parson had marked. The pace was not too fast to jade the horses, and frequent stops were made to rest men and beasts. But it was noon of the following day when the Red Butterfly led the soldiers and the scouts, true as a hound on the trail, to the chasm where the bridge had been thrown across. “ You have gone wrong, pard,” said Buffalo Bill. “ N o, for see there!” Across the canyon a form appeared, and those who knew him recognized the Pistol Parson of Miner’s Roost. He held in his hands a bow and arrow, and the latter came flying across, a string attached to it. Then he called out: “ Butterfly, follow my marked trail down to a crossing—place, and bring several men with on.” y The order was obeyed, and a couple of hours later they appeared upon the other side, With the parson, and all were rolling along some heavy object. , _ _ Need I tell the reader that it was the swmging bridge so cleverly manufactured by those whom the parson had seen cross over upon it? The soldiers quickly seized the ropes, brought over the arrow line, and dragged the bridge across, when, unmindful of its swinging and the dizzy height, the parson walked across and was greeted by Lieutenant Amos, Buffalo Bill and the'Powell brothers,who had met him in Miner’s Roost. He showed the soldiers how to make taut the ropes and then started across leading Lieutenant Ames’s horses. Red Butterfly followed with his horses, then Buffalo Bill, Jack Crawford and the others, un— til the last soldier had gone across in safety. CHAPTER LXII. THE BUZZARDS’ BOOST. “ NOW, parson, let me know just what all this means, for we expected to meet here Surgeon Powell to guide us,” said Lieutenant Ames, after the force had gone into camp across the brid e. “ on will meet the Surgeon Scout later, Brother Amos, for he is on the trail, and I must say that it is owing to him that I am now here to guide you. . “ The truth is, the Red Buzzards got worsted in a fight with the Indians, and you know that they were beaten off from attacking the coach 3” “ Yes, I remember.” . “ It cut them up considerably, and the chief, in disguise, went to Miner’s Roost to spy, and came very near being hanged there. “ But I saved his life, and then, in doubt my- self if he was Quantrel or not, I trailed him.” “ And it was Quantrel?” “ Yes, sir; and he seemed to have had enou h for awhile, as he returned to his men, bro e camp, and led them up into these mountains, where no horse can come save by the swinging bridge which the outlaws made to throw pur- suit ofi’ their track. “ Quantrel is full of these clever schemes, and unless trailed close an army could notcatch him, for he can take his band and horses anywhere with the contrivances he has. “ He is now encamped six or seven miles from here, not once suspecting danger, and tO-night I Will guide you down upon his camp and we can make short work of them, for trees are plenty and ropes can be had for the asking,” said the parson, si niflcantiy. “ What is his force?” “ He has over a dozen wounded men, a pris- oner, a couple of negro servants, and his band of fighting men in camp number just twenty- one. " And we double him.” “ And surprise him too, sir.” “When will you move?” “About midnight, and the Red Butterfly will lead you by one pass, while I guide the scouts by another.” “ But does the Red Butterfly know the way?” “ Oh, yes, for he has been here before. “ He will make no mistake, Lieutenant Ames.” “ I can well understand that; but where is Sur eon Powell?” “ on will find him when you take-the roost Of the Red Buzzards.” “ Ha! he is the prisoner then. “ By Jove, I pity poor Frank Powell if he has been in the hands of those fiends,” said Lieuten- ant Ames feelingly. Then as the parson walked away the young commander, gave his orders for the night attack. As the parson walked away the Indian youth joined him, and they went on in silence together until they had gotten beyond the line of the camp. ' “ on have seen the camps, sir?” “ Yes, Red Butterfly.” , “You were near enough to note who was there, for I heard you say that Quantrel still had his prisoner?” “ I saw him last night, Red Butterfly.” “I feel contented now, and I only have to seek my revenge upon that one man. “ The Indian in me will show itself, for I am revengeful and when I am avenged, by the death of that man, Kit Quantrel, 1 will, I believe, he almost happy.” “I hope so, and perhaps with time, change and seeing you he may yet regain his reason; but now we must prepare for the march, and you know our signals agreed upon, so you will ead the soldiers to the upper 58, while I will guide the Scouts’ League to t e lower cut and we cap hem them in so that no man should es- “ It should be so,” was the response of the In- dian youth, and the two parted. An hour after the two mysterious guides, the parson, and the Red Butterfly mounted their horses and rode away at the head of the respect- ive commands, the soldiers and the scouts. It was dark, but Red Butterfly showed no hesitancy about leading the way, greatly to the pleasure of the young commander, who had felt doubtful, as he had no idea where it was that the Indian youth had learned the country as he seemed to know it. The ride was a slow one, and over an hour passed before the Indian guide came to a halt and said: “ I will go ahead alone, sir.” He glided away on foot, and soon the shrill, mournful sound of the whippowil was heard. It was kept up for a dozen notes, and then si- lence followed, when far off down the canyon came the same cry, faintly heard. Then the Indian youth returned, and said: “ IVe will move now, sir.” “ How far off is the camp, Red Butterfly?” “ Not a quarter of a mile away, sir.” , The soldiers moved on, and at length, after a word from the Indian in a low tone, the lieuten- ant gave the order for the soldiers to close up in fours. “ Now, sir,” said the Indian youth, as again the notes of the night-bird were heard. He repeated it she. and clear, and then came the command from Lieutenant Ames: “ Forward! trot—char e!” The troopers sprung orward like an ava- lanche, and out of the dark canyon into a valley they went, where the white tents of the outlaws were before them. And with wild yells, their ringing war-cries, from the other pass came the scouts, and the outlaws Were between two fires. Hemmed in, though strong men, and sur- prised, the outlaws yet came from their beds armed for the fray. There was a rattling of fire—arms, and min- gling with it were the cheers of the soldiers,war- , cries of the Scouts’ League, the rattling of ac- conterments and trampling of hoofs. Dawn was breaking, and the fighting, strug- gling forms in the gray mists looked like grim specters. And when the sun rose over the mountain- tops, it shone upon a strange scene, one only to be found in wild Western warfare. The battle had ended, and many had bitten the dust. There were soldiers lying here and there, and many dead outlaws. Several scouts were wounded, yet none seri- ously, and Surgeon Schufeldt was busy, aided by hthe parson, who had figured grandly in the fig t. And over by the chief’s tent sat the prisoner of the outlaw chief, poor Daniel Darwin, while near him stood the young Indian, striving in vain to force him into conversation with him, for all he could get from the poor unfortunate was the plaintive wail: “ I don’t remember.” CHAPTER LXIIl. CONCLUSION. LIEUTENANT Amss‘s face wore a bright smile over the victory gained. The band of Red Buzzards had been almost wholly wiped out, and their horses, their bag- gage and tents had all been taken. A few bold men had mounted their horses and dashed boldly through'the soldiers’ line. They had been pressed so hard by Red But- terfiy, the parson, and Buffalo Bill and his scouts, that they had not time to take the trail they had wished, and so had driven down the canyon, which ended at a precipice, overhang- ing a foaming torrent, many feet belOW. ‘ Drive them to their doom! “ The deserve it!” came in the ringing voice of the Butterfly, and the words were an- swered by the war-cries of the scouts. The outlaws saw their fate, it seemed, for they drew rein; half turned, as though to stand at bay, and then, beholding that whirlwind of avengers, turned again in flight. The Indian youth, side by side with the par- son, pressed them close, and behind were Buf- falo Bill and his matchless men. With a wild shriek, like a death-cry, the out- laws took the fatal leap. Over they went into the darkness, and down into the rushing torrent below. The Red Butterfly and the parson drew rein suddenly, as did the others, and the scouts in chorus uttered their cries of triumph. After gazing down into the depths for a min- ute in silence, the parson said: “ You are avenged, Red Butterfly, for Kit Quantrel led his band over that cliff to death.” “ So be it, I am content,” was the lOw reply, and he turned his horse back up the canyon to- ward the camp. As they returned Lieutenant Ames called out: “Parson, the Surgeon Scout is not here as a prisoner, nor is he among the dead or wounded. “ N 0 one knows aught about him, though that poor fellow Darwin is here.” “Yes, Ames, I am here,” and off came the wig of long white hair, the gold—rimmed spec- tacles, and then it was that the once full-bearded face of Doctor Frank Powell was recognized, and shout after shout rent the air, for the “ par- son” was found to be as he expressed it himself: “A wolf in lamb’s clothing.” It was a couple of days before the soldiers started back from the outlaws’ retreat, and all noticed the kind devotion of Red Butterfly for Daniel Darwin, until the story came out that he was the adopted father of the Red-Skin Rider. Reaching the Overland Trail the Red Rider stopped with his adopted father for the comin along of Sunset Sam’s coach on its eastwar run. Lieutenant Ames urged him to go on to the fort, but he said that he must return eastward at onCe, and resigned his position as Pony Rider. Buffalo Bill and Surgeon Powell waited with him, and saw the two safe aboard of Sunset Sam‘s coach. And away rolled the coach, and gazing after it Surgeon Frank Powell said: “ Bill, old fellow, I am going to tell you a secret.” “ Yes, Frank!” “ No one else upon the border knows it except myself.” “I will not betray the secret, Frank,” said Buffalo Bill. “ I know that, and so I tell you, and with the consent of the one concerned. “ Do you know that the Red Butterfly is a woman?” Buflfalo Bill started, and his face showed that he had never suspected the secret. “ It is true, and she is the daughter of the old mad Sioux chief, Patolla,who was killed defend- ing Daniel Darwin from Quantrel and his out- laws, and he adopted the girl, had her educated, came West after more gold, was captured, and that splendid, brave girl, dressed as a man, came here to rescue or avenge him. “ Now, Bill, you understand how it was that Red Butterfly knew the country so well.” “ Yes, the mystery is solved, and it is a secret worth knowing,” said Buffalo Bill, earnestly, as the two sworn pards started on their trail to the fort. After some minutes of silence Buffalo Bill sai : “ Frank i” H Yes.” “You ought to go into the ministry, for I never saw your equal as the Fighting Parson of Miner’s Roost.” THE END. BEADLE’S POPULAR LIBRARY. Issued Every Wednesday. Price Five Cents. This New Library will give only the Best Work of the Best Writers in POPULAR AMERICAN ROMANCE. Each and every issue will be a bright, strong, markedly original work, produced expressly for the series by special order. and wrought up to the high- est stancard of popular story excellence. Its field will cover the wide scope of Wild West’ ~Border, Mining, Ranching. Detective. Secret Ser- vice, City and Sea Life, and thus maintain, as a Library, an interest at once varied and command- ing. As no inferior or amateur production is admitted to the schedules, so everything of a questionable or vitiating character is studioust excluded- Therefore, with the trade as Well as wish readers, BEADLE‘s POPULAR LIBRARY is certain to win a wide popularity, and become one of the Jandmds in the literature for the people. No.1. Dandy Dick, Detective; or, The Still Hunt at Burnt Match. By Robert Randolph Inman. No. 2. The Three Spotters: or. Running Down the Rogues By M. H. Waring. ‘ Sergeant Mark.” No. Cowbov Chris, the Man Of Caliber; or, Hot Times in Hot Hole. By William West Wild r, "Wyoming Bill.” No. 4. Dandy Dick‘s Doutle' or, The Severed Head of Paradise Pocket. By Robert R. lnman. No.5. The Red Spotters‘ Weird Hunt; or. The Angel of the Docks. By Marcus H Waring,— “ Sergeant Mark.” No. (i. Mustang Merle, the Boy Rancher; or, Old Joe Bundy’s Wipe-out. 13y Maj-3r Sam S. Scott. No. 7. Flip Fred, the Pack-Peddler Prince; or, The Witch of the Black Swamp. By Edward Lytton. 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