dently, and so he should, but she would choose
a husband for herself instead of letting him

choose one. _ _
Could she have kn0wn how it hurt him to

' drop those seemingly careless words of approval

of young Cornell, now he suffered to see her
drifting to her fate without daring to put out a
hand to save her—but she did not know. She
fluttered into the net spread for her like any
other unwary, foolish little bird.

As she tripped along the street, full of happy
thoughts, a great bell clashed out its brazen
peel, and people called eagerly to each other to
know where the fire was.

“ Next street.” “ Next street but one,” went
varying answers. “Make way there, men, let
the hose-cart by.”

A gathering crowd blocked the street, and al-
most before she knew it, Honoria was caught in
the stream and carried along until the burning
building came in sight. Volumes of smoke and
bursts of flame came through the shattered
windows, and high up at one of them a man ap-
peared, with a bundle in his arms, and amid the
confusion of voices Honoria distinguished one,
saying:

“ A woman left her baby and he went after
it. Poor fellow, I’m afraid his chances are few.
Ah, there goes a ladder i”

It was lifted to be found too short. A length
was added, and a groan broke from the watch-
ful multitude; it would not reach, and more
precious time must be wasted. The man had
disappeared for a moment; he came back w1th
a cord of some description, and clambering over
the sill, let himself painfully down until the top
rung of the ladder was reached, d0wn and down,
through belching flame and stifling smoke, until
at last a great shout went up—

“ Saved, saved, saved, saved l” '

The overjoyed mother clasped the child to
her bosom, and the hero of the occasion slipped
quietly out of the general view; but there was
one in the throng who did not lose sight of him.

“ Please to take this and tie up your hand.”

A wisp of snowy handkerchief was extended,
a pair of beaming black eyes looked into his,
and the soft voice added:

“ It was very, very brave of you,” and with-
out an answer Honoria turned away, to see
Clifford Cornell approaching her.

“ There were no lives lost, I trust?" he asked,
with an appearance of anxious concern.

" No, oh, nol”

“I am glad of that. It would have seemed
an ill—Omen if anything sad had occurred to-
day—the day which I am presumptuous enough
to hope may prove the happiest of my man-
hood. You have the power to make it so,
Honoria, and one word from you must crown
my joy or misery. Is it ‘No’ or ‘ Yes’ to the
most momentous question in the World, my
darling—my hoped-for, longed-for little love?”

“ I——l don’t believe that is the question, Mr.
Cornell.” said Honoria, half—laughing, wholly
embarrassed for once in her life. It was very
pleasant to be made love to in this ardent and
poetical fashion, and yet she v ished he had not
come to the point so very soon.

“The question is, will you give yourself to
be my sweet little wife? If I thought, Honoria,
you had been Coquettiug with me, that you had
led me on by locus and words that meant noth-
ing to you, I should curse the day that we ever
met— But no! you are not so cruel-hearted.
Look at me, love, and say you are mine.”

I'Vhat held her tongue-tied under that tender
pleading;J It was not a COquettish impulse, for
she was frank and open as a child.

“Papa would never hear of it,” she found
words at last.

“Oh, I dare say he is certain to oppose me;
but if I can win his consent, have I yours?”

She drew a long breath. This conditional
promise left a loop-hole of escape which she
unconsciously grasped at. Nothing was more
certain in life than that papa would crush this
budding romance by his severest displeasure,
and then perhaps she would make terms with
him. If he would never think of marrying her
to Mr. Behmis, she would—perhaps—give up
Clifford Cornell.

So it was settled.

“And I shall come around this evening to
heard the lion in his den,” said Clifford, gayly.
“ Do you know that he is not one-half so for-
midable as he was only yesterday? I have
Emupleted my arrangements to buy into the

rm.

“ “thy,” cried Honoria, “ I thought you were

oor.’ .

“ So I was, so I am still compared with Mr.
Arie, but I came. into a legacy lately which ad-
mits me to the Co.”

He did not explain that his “legacy” had
come from the hands of Mr. Arle.

There was no opposition from the latter when
the marriage project was broached. He was a
trifle nervous. and his eyes would not meet
those of his daughter when she slipped her arms
around his neck. ‘

“ Dear papa, you are ever so good, but we
don’t want to be married, only engaged for a
long time, you know.”

“ Until Cornell persuades you to change your
mind, I suppose? Well, you two shall fix the
date to suit yourselves,” and Honoria went
away feeling that she had been repulsed by too
great indulgence—if there is any reconcding
those terms.

“ Am I not in love with Cliflford, after all?”
she asked herself. “ What is the matter with
me, I wonder?”

What, indeed? Surely nothing that a pair of
gray eyes looking out of a smoke-begrimed face
had anything to do with, yet when another pair
of eyes strangely like them appealed to her
s‘me weeks later, Honoria felt strongly drawn
toward their owner. She was alone in the large
parlor when the stran er was announced as—

“ Miss Midas, from adame Lucerne’s.”

Madame had the trousscau in hand, for Clif-
ford had pressed on the wedding-day; he would
not run the risk of any chances coming up to
snatch away his bride.

Miss Midas was an artist in silk embroidery,
who brought samples of her work, and a recoin-
mendation from madame.

“She does not employ me herself, because
she cannot afford to pay the price I require for
my work, but she has sent me to some of her
most particular patrons. Here is a panel which
would be lovely for an evening dress, or this
border for a carriage-costume. I could come
by the day and do the work here, if you should
Conclude to employ me.”

“ I am sure I should like that,” said Honoria,
brightly. “I must have the dinner-dress at
least.”

She did not even ask the cost. Indeed, it was
a characteristic of this impulsive young crea-
ture not to count the, cost of any act of hers.
She did not eVen acknowledge to herself that it
was the gray eyes that had done the business—-
eyes that were the counterpart of another
pair which lingered most persistently in her
memory.

So Miss Midas was installed in the sewing-
room, and another thread was added to the web
which the Fates \\ ere spinning.

CHAPTER VI.
TOADS IN THE GRASS.

“ I HAVE been here for a week. I wonder
how much longer they will think it necessary
to keep me? It is natural that they should dis-
trust me, yet I would not do anything to re-
store that wretch to the punishment he justly
enough merits. I thought they would become
discouraged, and give up their scheme when
they were convinced I could tell them nothing,
and they have not pressed their questions about
‘ my brother Don ’ as I feared they might. And
oh! how troublai I am about my brother. Not
a hint regarding him, not one word of his con-
nection with them, have they let drop. My
faith in him still keeps me from fearing harm
to myself. If it Were not for that I would
tremble Sometimes—oh, when, when will they
release me from this prison?”

Lulu was pacing the room back and forth,

 

 

ment or some mental trouble was wearing upon
her.'

Heavy steps came along the hall and paused
at her door, and McElroy entered, With a bas-
ket on his arm.

“ I’ve brought you some grub,” he announced.
“ Reckon you’ve eat up about all you had. Get-
tin’ tired of your quarters, too, Miss Dot, beau t
you? What’d you say to makin’ archangel“

A flash of color came into the girl’s pale face.
“ I say that I am only too anxious to make it if
it'gives me my release.” - I ,

“ That’s as you may think it. We won t keep
you under lock and key if you make a bargain
with us, but you can’t cut us adrift neither, nor
you won’t want to, I reckon, when you hear
what it is. We ain’t a—gittin’ any nearer to
that there plunder, and we’ve fixed on a bold:
move to find out where it is. That brother of
yours might have a clew to it, but he has'been
sharp enough to circumvent us; and. again he
mightn’t, but there’s one perSon as is sure to
know, and it’s him we’re going for.”

“ You mean—” with a sudden gasp.

“ I mean the old gent himself—your respected

a—and as it wouldn’t be jest safe for either
Eleaton or me .to interview him in prison, we
mean to get him out. The plan is to hire a
house and have you keep it for us—Heaton’s
wife’ll be there too—and run him into hiding
until the first huliabaloo is over. _You’ll be
there to nuss him up and to put him in heart-
for it’s no play business to get a convict out of
the prison as they manage ’em to-day. Now
what do you say—be you ready to go in With
us?”

“ His escape would mean that he must live
the life of a hunted fugitive,” murmured the

irl.
g “ Let him unearth the spoils, and there’ll be
a way of provin‘ his innocence and gettin’ a
free pardon,” said McElroy with a grin. .

Lulu lifted her eyes and fixed them on his
face.

“ You speak of your partner and yoursclf,
but. there were three of you that night when I
came to this house—one who stood sentinel—
what part has he in this plan!"

“ I don’t reckon he’ll be able to take any part,
since he’s had to leave town for the good of his
health. Fact is, there’s a warrant out for Mr.
Don Seabright, and our friend Marshall has
seen fit to make himself scarce. Heaton don’t
suspect nothin’, but I’Ve a powerful notion I can
see through the millstone you two have set up,
Miss Dot or Miss Lulu, just as you like. I’m a
friend of yours, and I haven’t blowed, but I’ll
be blessed if I think you’re half so anxious about
your pa as you are about your precious scamp
of a brother. Don’t seem to care whether he
gets a chance at all.”

“ Not care i” with a passionate outburst. “ Oh,
Mr. McElroy, you little know how much I care,
or how much cause I have to pray that that
poor prisoner may be Luther Seabrightl I can
hardly believe it possible now!”

“ So, that’s itl” said McElroy, under his
breath. “ I’ve had a queer notion— But meb—
be I’m wrong.”

He sat for some time explaining his plan in
detail, but he left at last, and Lulu took up the
restless pacing which his entrance had inter-
rupted.

“ I wonder if it is only because my experience
makes me suspicious that I distrust him? That
might explain Marshall’s absence; it seems on]
too probable, and yet—1 feel sure there is
treachery somewhere. Is he in their scheme of
getting that plunder’l—can he be so lost to his
better manhood as to join with them in any-
thing else? I must go, to serve both my father
and my brother. ut, oh, what a load they
have put on me to bear?”

Was this the Dot Seabright who was so con-
fident once that her father had been wronged,
not guilty of wrong-doingf—who would go over
the world to hunt his enemies dovan Surely
the enthusiasm of youthful faith and hope had
worn Itself out, or she would not have been so
listless under the thought of the coming rescue.

Thirty-six hours afterward the midnight Ex-
press train carried, among its other passen-
gers, two women who might have passed for
mistress and maid, had it not been that the
older and coarser exercised a surveillance over
her companion incompatible with such a relao
tion.

Lulu had hidden her face behind a vail but
she had not hidden the outlines of her willowy
figure, nor the erect carriage of her graceful
head, and a gentleman who was passing through
the coach hesitated, then dropped into a vacant
seat behind the pair.

“Miss Stafford, I cannot tell you how glad I
am to see you a ain.”

“ Mr. Behmisl ’ she cried with a little start.

“ l have been in distress regarding you since
you have been missing from the factory,” he
went on in guarded tones. “ I heard that you
called at my house when I was absent—was it
to ask for any service which I can render you
now?”

“ Have you also heard that I played eaves-
dropper there, and overheard myself branded
as a criminal who had offended against the
firm? I supposed that story would be told you.”

“ I have put no faith in anything which
Seemed to reflect against you.” She had spoken
bitterly, he answered with simple truth. “ You
are under a cloud, but I believe you can explain
it away if you will.”

“ You are good, you are kind; I thank you
from my heart,” said Lulu,‘ with just a sus i-
cion of tremor in her tones. “ But I am un er
a cloud—a dark cloud of shame and disgrace
fvfhic’h can never be lifted entirely from my
1 e.

“Cannot I persuade you to come back to
your place with us?” he entreated, wistfuliy.

“ That is impossible.”

“ Can I do nothing for you?” his eyes turning
with instinctive distrust to the hard—featured
woman whom he had put down in his own mind
as no suitable companion for Lulu Stafford, and
whose sullen looks bespoke her disappro‘val of
the conversation which was every word audible
to her listening ear.

“ Miss Seabright’s in my charge.
come to no hurt,” she sharply interpolated.

“ Seabright?” He looked at Lulu inquiringly,
but she pressed her lips together and met his
glance with one which told him nothing.

He stiffened visibly. There was subterfuge
and mystery then about the girl whom he had
believed in, despite evil report; his life was open
and honest as the day, and so must be that of
the woman to whom he would willingly give
his heart. He rose, rather coldly, but bent over
her with a searching look.

“ One thing more: are you going away will~
ingly? There is no coercion, no undue influence,
no fear of persecution or anything of that kind.
forcing you to leave?"

“ I am going of my own free will, and for a
purpose of my own. I am glad to have seen
you to say good-by.”

“ Good-by, and good-by forever,” the steady
eyes that looked back into his were saying in a
language which he could not mistake, and a
pang went to the heart of Nolan Behmis, while
as tried to tell himself that it was all for the

est.

(To be continued—commenced in No. 523.)

 

THERE is a parrot in St. Louis which exclaims,
whenever a man enters the room:’ “ You’re
drunk, sir, and had better go away. I don’t
want to see you till you’re over it.” People
wonder how the bird catches on, but the ex-
planation is simple: it doesn’t kn0w how to say
anything else, and of course, in making the re-
mark to eVery man it fr uently gets near home.
One gentleman who cal ed thought it was the
lady of the house speaking and rushed out of the
parlor. She sat down to write a note of ex-
planation to him, when, to her amazement, a
servant brought her a note from the gentleman
she was writing to, in which he stated that he
had perhaps taken too much wine with his din-
ner, but had hoped on calling on her that she

She won’t ‘

 

MY COLORS.

BY IZAAK INKHORN.

 

The star that glows for my guiding
Clings close- to a dusky head.

In a night of dark hair hiding—-
A. bow of cardinal red.

But the ribbon is only the crest
Of the face that smiles beneath,

Of the loyal heart in the breast,
’Tis only the crowning wreath;

Sign only of the cheer that’s shining
1‘ rom out of the fair blue eye

The signet of the hand that's twining
Hope round whateVer I try.

80 the ribbon will always be
A talisman naught can mar,
Kwping stains of evil from me—
Forever my guiding star.

 

 

 

 

 

Waking a Faint (lien;
on,
now I ,BECAME A DETECTIVE.

BY THE YOUNG ATTORNEY.

 

 

“ THE old man wants to see you in the office.”

I have always considered it a momentous mo-
ment in my life when Bob Drennon told me
that.

l. slipped on my con t, and then into the office
of the “ old man,” for the head of the house of
Park & Co. had a custom of frowning on the
forwardness of assistant bookkeepers.

“ Henry Grant has not been heard from in two
weeks; here’s his last letter; go and look him up,
and the money he had with him.” It was the
longest speech '1 had ever heard old Park make.

I knew what it meant; I was to disappear im-
mediately.

I took the morning train for Hiramsburg, a
we station eighty miles from home.

IIenr Grant was the traveling collector of the
firm. 11 those days the house did not rely on
banks to make their collections, but four times a
year one collector visited the country merchants
and, settled all claims.

Henry Grant’s last letter was written on the
fourth day of the month, and dated from
Hiramsburg. He stated therein that he had
collected tWelve hundred dollars. Park 86 Co.
had heard nothing from him since and it was
plain that the “ old man” thought that their col-
lector had been trusted too far.

So it came to pass that l was suddenly changed
from an entry clerk into an amateur detective.

A dozen times I took out Grant’s “ last letter ”
and read it through with gigantic attention to
every word and suggestion; peered in between
the lines, where lovers are said to hide their
meaning, and closely scanned the signature if,
peradventure, the band would tremble out a
confession.

But either I was a poor sight—seer, or Grant
was a hardened villain; I could nowhere discover
the trail of the serpent, nor to Whither he had
betaken himself.

I reached Hiramsburg at twelve o’clock and
just in time to partake of the dinner of a third-
class country hotel.

In the five minutes’ recess between ordering
my dinner and getting it, L contented myself
with turning from the letter to the envelope and
studying the inartistic way in which the country
postmaster had written “ Hiranisburg ” as a
postmark.

But my vexation was only increased, until I
threw down the letter with a gusto that the
servant girl must have noticsd, if she had not
already proved her stupidity by brin lug me
just that part of the bill of fare which had not
ordered.

In the increasing violence of my impatience I
had not at first noticed the sharp-featured young
man who had seated himself beside me.

Perhaps i never should, in self abstraction,
have remembered him, if I had not chanced, as
I lifted to my lips my cup of coffee to look over
the rim thereof at him at a peculiarly interesting
moment.

There was nothing in his face, with its high
cheek-bones, blue eyes, hooked nose, and scant
mustache, to lead one to wonder at finding him
in a country store; but his manners astounded
me for the moment. ' _

The last letter of the atsconding Grant lay be-
tween us. and as I first caught the young man‘s
movements, his eyes were fastened fixedly upon
it; then he quickly shot an inquiring look to-
ward me, but though I had not been a detective
before, I was blankly staring at the wall now. '

When his dinner came he seemed to feel easier;
his face got back some of the color it had so
mysteriously lost, yet Occasionally I caught a
restless glance devoted to my direction.

I had finished my dinner, but stillI acmehow
felt that this was a good place for a detective to
be; I wanted to see more of the young man;
perhaps to be favored with the sound of his
voice.

I would try just one scheme!

Rising in abstracted manner from the table, I
suddenly turned in hesitating, absent-minded
way around, and stammered sotto voce .'

“I .have almost forgotten whether you or I
have left this letter herel”

“Never saw it before in my life!” he ejacu-
lated out, as if the words had so long been ready
in this mouth that they had gotten stuck to-
get er.

" Then,” says I, as graciously as I could,
“ you’re not in the post—office here?”

“ Well, suppose I am l” he nervously answered,
and quicker than you can read it. “I wasn’t
there that day l"

“ What day?”

“ The day postmarked on the letter!" he stam-
mered.

“Oh, esl I see!” was my mysterious utter-
ance as left the room.

I was very Well satisfied with the dialogue; it
did seem that this fellow had for some reason
recognized the letter; but if I did have a clew, I
was somewhat as the new player with a trump
card, I didn’t exactly know what to do with it.

The hotel clerk remembered young Grant ver
well; and the register showed that he had starte ,
on the morning of the fifth, for Lanton, a small
country town some seven miles to the cast.

I determined to ride to Lanton at once, but
was delayed at the livery stable by the talking
abilities of the “ old and reliable ” sole proprietor,
who not only was moved to tell me all his own
history, but also the pedigree of each of his
horses.

“ But I’ve ordered Sam to saddle you the best
roadster in the lot; except, always except, Dave’s
black.”

“ Dnve must himself belong to the blooded
stock of your town i” l ventured, as I noticed
the old man had already alluded to him.

“ Well, Dave’s bright. but he’s only a post-ulllce
clerk, and hasn’t had the black more than ten
days; but Sam will treat you right, and I must
go off to dinner.”

Sam did, and I rode thoughtfully on toward
Lanton; so thoughtfully that I didn’t notice the
black clouds forming, until peals of thunder
sharply crashed above the tree-tops.

Being deluged by a thunder-storm in a strange
forest, is not pleasant to a veteran: to me it vms
a catastrophe, unstrung as I already was by‘the
excitement and mysteries of the day.

Seeking to wrap my cloak still more tightly
about me, I had suffered the reins to fall on the
horse‘s neck, and trusted to his instincts and
knowledge to keep the road.

Through the increasing darkness and deluge
of rain the noble steed plunged, until suddenly I
noticed from the uarrowness of the road that we
must have quit the main path, and the next mo-
ment I was halted before. a dilapidated hovel.
Mv steed had been there before.

Leading the horse to a shed in the rear, I un-
ceremoniously entered the portals of the deserted
house and looked about me.

 

door, I found myself in an attic, in one corner of

which was a straw mattress, and lying thereupon
a cloak and hat.

So somebody used to be there; but I. never
thought or cared of anybody coming again, as I
threw my own raimsoaked cloak and hat away
and ingratinted myself into the dry ones.

As I ste ped to the window to read the leaden
clouds wb ch still hung over the forest, I was
wondering if the post-office clerk, who was away
on the fifth, and ought a fine horse soon after-
ward, and might have opened Grant’s letter and
read something about twelve hundred dollars.
but didn’t want to be suspected of ever having
seen it. could have the wicked nerve to waylay
Henry Grant in this very forest!

All of which seemed the rash dream of an
amateur detective.

But before I had proceeded further with it
the door of the lower rooin was burst open, as if
the violence of the tempest had joined the
strength of an impatient traveler in hurling
open the portals, and a gruff voice was cursing
the stupidity of the Irish hostler in giving the
black horse to a tramp, and leaving a sorrel for
him. ‘

“ So I’m the tramp!” I instinctively thought,
“ and if the black horse is Dave’s, that must be
him l"

80 it was,,I was certain as the soliloquy went
on, though he talked in grimer style when he
thought himself alone.

“ So that youngster is upon my trail, and sus-
pects me, perhaps of having opened Grant’s
letter, and foqu twelve hundred dollars in the
wind! Let him suspect and be sent to the devil;
if I once sink the but and cloak, the scent of a
bloodhound can’t overtake me!”

Then I heard a (pair of heavy boots scrambling
up the ladder, an instinctively I felt for my re-
volver.

In that moment of dire need, the last that was
given me, I recollected that my only weapon
was left in my cloak, at the other end of the

worn.

But before I could take a step, a lithe, strou
arm pushed back the trap-door, and the eyes 0
the young clerk were staring upon me.

The hat, which was much too large for me, fell
over my forehead until it almost hid my upper
features, while the riding-cloak covered my en-
tire figure; but I instinctively felt, as thus I
stood statualike, that the staring eyes were see-
ing little of me.

Not that the thick shadows by any means per-
fectly concealed me, but I never yet believed
that twitching eyeballs saw well, or that a man
with ashy»hue and trembling arm was a critical
observer.

Now it was I, who was staring, from under
my great, slouched but, until an excited brain
forCed the thought that— But even before it
was a thou ht the face lost its last trace of vi-
tality, the iulging eyes closed, the lips gasped,
“My God, it’s him l” and before I could dash
away my lethargy, the form of Dave Bennett
sunk lifeless from sight, and the heavy trap-door
closed back with a dull clang.

He was dead when I reached him!

The mystery was never solved further! I
found the name of “ Henry Grant” upon the
inside of the collar of the cloak, and I knew
that his supposed ghost hud avenged his foul
murder.

Dashing Charlie’s
Minule Men;

 

 

Black Horse Bill’s Iniquitous Plot.
A Story of Camp. Fort and Mountain Trails.
BY COL. PRESTISS INGRAHAM.

CHAPTER. XIX.
A MYSTERY.

BACK to the Crows‘ Roost Range rode Captain
DeLong and Dashing Charlie, followed by the
Minute Men.

The captain did not spare his horse, for he
was anxious to catch the outlaws in the very
scene of their evil deeds.

Could this be done, there was a chance that
Black Horse Blll would also be taken and his
second hand wiped out, and this surel would
put an end to lawlessness upon that par of the
frontier at least.

It would also prevent Gabrielle Garland from
being robbed of the large reward she had oflered
for the stolen souvenirs, for of course the note
would be null and void which Captain DeLong
had given.

The captain told Dashing Charlie as they rode
along all about his being held up and just what
had occurred.

“ Did you see any One else there, sir, than the
outlaw chief?” asked Dashing Charlie.

“ No, I did not see any one else.”

“ I do not believe there were others, sir.”

“ Oh, yes, Charlie, for I heard their answer to
the chief’s call.”

“ And they were on the spot soon after we
left, sir?” ,

fl Yes.”

“ From wherever did they come, sir?”

“ That is the mystery we must solve. ”

“ It worries me, Captain DeLong, because I
cannot solw it. I assure you, sir; but if they are
there, or have left, there must be some trace of
their oing and coming, though we could not
find it efore.”

“ We must do so this time, Charlie, or they
will have the laugh on us at the fort."

“ Yes, sir; but here is where we divide, and
do you not think that I had better (IlVldu my
men in three parties, for, by riding rapidly, one
squad can get around the range and come u by
the very trail by which the outlaws would) re-
treat?”

“ Yes: I would do so,” said Captain DeLong.

The Minute men were halted for a short rest,
and supper, and then divided into three squads,
one of four scouts under Diamond Dun to circle
around the Range and approach by the trail
which led to the old retreat of the outlaws.

Kit Kirby was to lend another squad of four
men to come up the trail at the other end of
(‘rows’ Roost, and Dashing Charlie With the

other four, and Captain DeLoiig to accompany
them, were to go the way they had come.

Diamond Dan started off first with his men,
having the longest distance to go, and K-tKirby
and his party followrd soon alter.

[inter Dashing Charlie and his men rode on
their way, and all were to camp upon the trails
leading to the Range until daylight, and then
move into position and sweep tho rocks and
thickets for the outlaws, meeting at Mountain
Spring.

Though he was sure his wife would be anxious
about his longer stay, Captain l)el.oug deter
mined to reumin and see the alfair through.

lie had hopes that he could carry back with
them Black Horse Bill and his band as pris-
oners, and could he do this, along With the
jewels which he had recovered from the chief, it
would be a great feather in his cup, and glory
finl-ugh for awhile for Dashing Charlie and his
Minute Men.

It was Several hours after nightfall when the
scouts_ got into position and m-ut silently into
camp in their Various places chosen.

l‘he horses were not staked out, but kept sad~
died and bridled, ready for instant use, and the
men in y down near them to get what rest they
Could.

Leaning against a tree, half-reclining, and
wrapped in his blanket, Captain Delmng slept

peacefully, while Dashing Charlie alone and on
yqot:i made a reconnoissance of the Range be-
.n .

It was not yet dawn When be amused hi
and said to Captain IleLong: a man.

 

 

large ”

on this trail," res

 

 

“ They were drinkin then?”
“011, no air, the voce I thought, was the

chief’s, an it is a spleudi one.

“ He was singing Annie Laurie."
“ A favorite song of mine.
“ I should like to have heaid him; but what a

remarkable man he Is, Dashing Charlie.”

“He is indeed, sir, and though he deserves

hanging, I shall re rat to sensual: a man come
to die upon the gal ows.”

“ As will; but he is too dangerous to run at

“ lie is indeed, sir; but are you sure that he is

the Mounted Tramp?”

“ I was true to my belief in that man, Dash-

ing Charlie, until I met the outlaw chief face to
face.

“ Then I could no longer doubt, for he admits

being Homer Rockwell, says that he deserted,
and carries the furlough I gave him.”

“ Then there can be no room for doubt, sir.

“ Shall we mow, sir?”

“ Yes."

And on the scouts went up toward the

Range.

Just at sunrise they reached the summit, and

an hour after the three squads of Minute Men
met at the Mountain Spring.

But not an outlaw had been seen, nor wins

there the trace of a trail visible where they had
come and gone from the spot, and the scouts
looked at each other, utterly mystified.

 

CHAPTER XX.
'rmt OAI’TAIN'S rmr.
IN vain did the scouts endeavor to find some

clew to the mysterious disappearance of the
outlaws, or outlaw chief, as the case might be.

They saw the tracks of Captain llel.ong's

horse, after their own, there were the prints of
the feet of the outlaw chief, where he had stood
in the trail and talked to the officer for so long
a while.

But beyond all Wes rock, and among the

bowlders no track was visible.

Strangest of all, there was no trace of a trail

leading to and from the bowldcrs.

Certainly the outlaws had not walked to the

to of the Range.

f so, the outlaw chief had been mounted when

there on the other occasion and no horse track
beyond the spot where he held up the coach,
could be seen.

[lashing Charlie wore a puzzled look.
He glanced at Captain Debong, then at the

men. each one at a time, but read no hope of a
solution of the mystery in the face of any one of
them.

“ You are at the end of your rope, Charlie!"

said Captain DeLong With a smile.

“ I most certainly am, air,” was the disconso-

late answer.

“ And you also We up, Kit?”

“Yes, captain, ackimwledge myself beaten
nded Kit Kirby.

“How is it With you, Diamond Dan!” and

Captain DeLong turned to that scout who re-
plied in his quaint way:

“ I known when l hain‘t In ther game fer win,

V ‘1
cap 3‘, so I pass.

ell, boys, have you anything to suggest?"
The question was to the scouts grouped about.
Not a man answered. Several shook their

heads in a dist-onsolate Way and others were
silent.

“ Then let us go into camp, have breakfast,

and then, Dashing Charlie, you start upon the
trail I turned you back from, and which I now
regret having done."

“ Don't say that, captain, for this is something

to know, Which I am glad to know.

“ The coach was held up by the outlaws and a

young man killed and robbm

e seek the spot and We neither know how

they came here or left.

“ We make a thorough search and give it up,

and soon after you are halted right hora by the
outlaw chief.

“ Bark we come, advancing from thrms timer-

out directions; [hear a man singing at night

right here in this spot, and then we come hero to
find no man. no trace of a trail.

“Oh, no. sir, I am glad you brought us back,
and I Am pleased to know how deep this mystery
is,” and Dashing Clmrlie spoke earnestly.

“ You will, of course, go back on tho trail you
were on when lcalled you back, as you said that

you had a claw?"

“I have a clew, sir, which may pun out some-

thing, though it is nothing more than that if
the outlaws haw another rein-ht it is not where
the old one was, but in the Range lying between
the- settlement and the fort, and I thought by
going there by night and lying in hiding by day
we may discover some secret move on ihe part
of the outlaws which may be useful.”

“ Charlie?"
“ Yes, captain.”
“ Do you believe you are now under the OYt'S

of the outlaws!”

“ That is What I have been thinking.”
“ Well, I would suggest that we go into camp

and quietly make up twu dummies,"

“ Dummies, sir?"
“Yes; dress up two grass figures to look like

men, tie them in the saddles of two of your best
men, and go on your way to the Divide Range
you were heading for when i turned you back.

“ The two men whom you thus dismount mu st

lie in hiding here to spy upon the outlaws, and,
making any discovery, one must at once start to
give you notice, for you can camp two other
men, with: the horses of thOSe here, at a spot
agreed3 upon, where he can go and soon get a
mono .

“The other man can remain here to watch

and dog the outlaws.

“ What do you say, Dashing Charlei, to my

plan 1"

“ The very thing to be done, sir, and-"
“ I speaks for one to remain," said Diamond

Dan.

“ Me, too,” called out Curley, a ymmg scout

who was very boyish-looking, yet a perfect dare-

devil.

“The very two I intended to select for the
work,” said Dashing Charlie.

The scouts now went into camp, and with
leaves, grass and lariats two dummy figures
were made, the men giving parts of their ward-
robe to carry out the fake.

These were placed upon the horses, Itflllllllmi

down ‘in no timber, and, while Diamond Dun
and (-iirlcy hid themselves among the I'm'hs,
their t'lllgN-‘l were tied upon their horses and the

party mounted and started oli’, riding three

abrenst tl at a dummy might thus come in be-

tweeu two scouts.
Captain De-Long rode on with the scouts until

they reached the valley and there he hmucliml

off for the fort, while Dashing (‘harlic nnd his
men held on for tho Divide, usihe liuugo la
tween the fort and the settlrnwnt was rolled.

“ “'ell, we’ll see what Comes of my little plot
to leave those two in iirs in the ltango to watch
the outlaws nud sollve this mystery of their
coming and going,” said Captain llelmng, and
he urged his horse rapidly onward toward the
fort, to he suddenly brought fun halt by n It'llll
Command and tin- sight of a rule covering him,

(‘llAl’Tl'ill XXI.
‘ A FUlUllVlNll FOE.

( APTAIN lliclmivu mm nwst decidnlly taken
aback at the loud command: .

“ llaltl

“ Hands up, or dial”

He was several miles from Crows‘ Roost, and
no outlaw had ever bmn seen on the trail bev
tween the Range and tho fort.

He had parted with Dashing Charlie and his
men only a mile back upon the ter, and he wins
hastening to the fort. fearing his wife in her
anmety would have the general dispatch his
troop in Search of him.

He came to a sudden halt at the threatening
command very wisely. olwying also the order

to raise his hands for he il l t it
had to a?“ “ML, . i no how whom he

 

 

 

 

 

 

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