w -_.-....W1.W»...... .. . , ll ll lJ”? I . ' \V'mriwnnl » .:_\\x\\\\\\\ Entered according to act of Congress, in the year [876, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, in the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. mvoumm‘.‘ _/ a... E. F. Beadle. it: ‘Niniam Aaams, él’usmsenns. Dal/4d Adams. NEW YORK, SEPTEMBER 30, 1876. One copy four months $1.05.. TERMS 1N ADVANCE-£01m copy: one year, . .’. 3.0!}. we copies. one year, . . 5.0% No. 342. Author of “Deadly Eye,” “The Prairie Rover,” “Kansas King,” etc., etc., etc. is. CHAPTER I. THE PHANTOM SPY. “DEVILS alive! ls the man mad?” “ I guess not; Prairie Pilot ain’t no man to go mad; he sees somethin’ as he’s goin’ to run down.” “ You bet! The Pilot’s on a trail; but, what in tamation is it?” As the third speaker spoke, there suddenly dashed out of the shadow of the timber into the broad moonlight, a horseman, who, with a deep—toned “hoopla!” urged his steed into a full run out upon the rolling prairie, which spread for miles in his front The three speakers had been seated around a camp-fire, in the shelter of a matte, or “timber island," far out on the Western plains. Their comrade, who had suddenlfcaused them to spring to their feet, and give vent to the conversation which opens this chapter, had been pacing to and fro in moody silence, a few yards from the fire, like a sentinel on guard, and at every turn in his walk he would hesi— tate momentarily, and glance far out over the moonlit prairie, as if on the alert for approach— ing danger. Suddenly, with a half—cry, as though of alarm, he had bounded toward where stood his steed, ready saddled, and the next moment, without a word to his companions, had shot forth upon the prairie like an arrow from the bow. “Ho, fellersl better git onto yer pins, for there’s somethin’ in the wind when yer see Pararie Pilot strike a trail like that,” cried Yankee Sam, who, with his two companions, Bravo Bob and Scalp-lock Dave, had been quietly smoking around the camp-fire, and tell— ing stories of desperate adventure they had known in their wild and reckless lives. At the call of Yankee Sam 8. score of men sprung to their feet and grasped their fire-arms, and instantly the encampment was a scene of excitement. It , s c \\ \\ \ “Then heed my warning. Farewell?“ THE PHAlSTOM SPY; The Pilot *' of, the Prairie. BY BUFFALO BILL (HON. WILLIAM F. CODY), “ Well, I’m after the Pilot, for he sha’n’t play a lone hand if there’s any danger ahead,” and Bravo Bob started for his horse, when a loud cry from Scalp—lock Dave caused him to come to a sudden halt. “ Holy Halifax! look a—yonderl” Every eye was turned out upon the prairie, and like one voice a dozen exclaimed: ‘ “ The Phantom Spy J” Far out upon the prairie, and plainly visible in the moonlight, was what appeared to be a specter horse and rider, for the steed was as white as snow, and with a long flowing mane and tail. The rider on his back was dressed in the loose robe of a woman, for it fluttered only upon one side of the animal, as he sped along swiftly over the prairie. Q A long, white vail floated far out behind, and apparently encircled the rider’s head like a tur- ban, while motionless in the saddle, if saddle there was on the horse, she seemed to urge her steed on by a mere exertion of her will. Behind the phantom—looking horse and rider, and some hundred lengths away, rode the man whom his comrades called Prairie Pilot, and who had so suddenly dashed from the timber. That he was urging his horse to the utmost, was evident; and, though mounted upon the swiftest steed on the plains, that he was not gaining upon the phantom horse and rider was also evident. For an instant the pursuer and pursued were visible to every eye in the encampment; then they disappeared from view over a roll in the prairie. At their disappearance a sigh of relief seem- ed to come from scouts, traders and teamsters alike, for weird stories were told of the Phan- tom Spy, the white horse and rider, which, when once found on the trail of a wagon—train, was certain to bring bloodshed and ruin upon it befdi‘e it reached the destination for which it was moving. All in that train had heard of the Phantom Spy, and all felt a superstitious awe at the mere mention of the name. Only the night before, around the camp—fire, the weird steed and rider had been the subject of conversation, and Prairie Pilot, the chief guide and scout of the traders’ train, wending its way toward the frontier settlements, had declared that he would follow the phantom to the bitter end. All knew Prairie Pilot to be one of the most daring scouts on the plains, and they felt that he would keep his word if he went to his own death in the attempt to solve the mystery. “ I guesses as how you’ll let the Pilot play a lone band now, Bravo Bob?” said Scalp—lock Dave, as the young man paused, when the Phantom Spy was discovered to be the game of the man who had won the sobriquet of Prairie Pilot, on account of his perfect knowledge of the prairies and mountains of the West. “I thought you knew me better than that, Dave,” said the young man, whose reckless na— ture had caused‘whis companions to dub him Bravo Bob, for there were few things that the handsome and youthful scout dare not do. A moment after Bravo Bob also dashed out upon the trail of the Prairie Pilot and the Phantom Spy. “ Wal, them as want ter kin go a-trailin’ ar- ter sperets and spooks; but, as for Dave Dor— sey, he wants to save the lactic ha’r he has,” and Scalp—lock Dave tenderly ran his fingers through the bunch of hair growing upon the top of his head, looking like an island in a lake, with the rest of his skull perfectly bald. “I’m with yer, pard; I ain’t no hunter for ghostises, and I ain’t lost no spook nor speret, so I ain’t a—lookin’ fer none. “The Pilot hired us fur hunters across the plains, an’ it’s our dooty to stand by this hour train ’til it gits whar it’s a—goin’; so as the Pilot and Bob’s 01f on the trail of a speret gal, why, we’s jist got to do double dooty, an’ I’m of opinion we’d better set a watch an’ turn in.” This opinion of Yankee Sam seemed to meet with general assent from the traders and team- sters, and after a guard was set, they all re— turned to their blankets; yet, strive as they would, their dreams would turn upon the two daring men who had gone forth in pursuit of the Phantom Spy. CHAPTER II. RUN DOWN. LIKE the very wind the Phantom Spy and the Prairie Pilot were borne over the prairie by their fleet steeds, the pursued steadily gain- ing upon the pursuer. “Come, Racer, you must mend your pace, or yonder fleet animal will run you out of sight,” cried Prairie Pilot, and encouraged by his mas- ter’s voice, the noble steed bounded forward with renewed exertion, and steadily began to gain upon the phantom horse and rider. Presently the white form turned and glanced behind, as though hearing the nearer approach of the pursuer, and at once a ghostly-looking arm was seen to rise and fall in quick succes— Slon several times, and the sound of a sharp blow each time reached the ears of Prairie Pilot, who exclaimed: "They are human, Racer, and you are driving the Phantom hard. On, on, old fel— low, and we will yet solve the mystery!” With tremendous exertions both steeds then rushed on, at an almost incredible pace, and Bravo Bob, nearly a mile in their rear, felt that he was being distanced, although his horse was remarkably swift and possessed good bot- tom. In vain did the flying, snow-white steed strain every muscle; sharp and quick fell the blows of the whip to urge him on; but to no avail, for Racer’s blood was up, and the cruel spur was kept constantly urging him on. The Prairie Pilot felt that the game was in his own hands, and a gleam of pleasure flashed in his dark eyes, for he felt that he was about to solve the mystery of that so—called phantom horse and rider, which, for three years, had eluded all pursuit, and had become a terror up- on the prairies. Who or what it could be, none knew; but certain it was, that when a party of scouts, or hunters, a wagon—train, or settlement on the border, beheld the weird horse and rider, ruin and bloodshed were sure to follow, until the apparition had been called the Phantom Spy, ever dogging the steps of those where booty was to be gained. Regarding the strange steed and rider, the Prairie Pilot had had his own views, which he kept to himself, and twice before he had seen and chased the apparition, but without result in his favor, as he was not then mounted upon his matchless Racer, the fieetest steed on the plains. . Now it was different, for Racer was in su- perb condition, and he determined to overtake the fugitive if he drove his own noble animal to death. True, he could have ended, the chase sooner, perhaps, by resorting to his rifle; but he would not fire upon a woman. No, he must depend upon Racer. And nobly did the fleet animal respond to his master’s urging, and foot by foot drew nearer the chase, until only a score of lengths separated them. Then, suddenly, the white steed went down, and his rider was thrown thirty feet in front, and lay white and motionless, as though dead, while the animal sprung nimbly to his feet, unhurt by his fall on the soft prairie sward. With an iron hand Prairie Pilot drew Racer back upon his haunches, and springing to the ground, rushed to the side of the fallen rider. “Yes, it is a. woman—nay, a mere girl. I hope she is not dead,” he cried, earnestly, at the same time laying his hand over her breast. “No, she is merely stunned; I can soon re— »vive her,” and unslinging his canteen from his saddle, he began to bathe her face and hands, at the same time gazing in admiration upon her.