, L r- 1! hr“- "7 (3".-. V~\m V \— ‘ v “ Great Judea!” groaned old Dan; “that’s makin’ matters wusser and wusser, it is indeed. Poor young thing! May God protect her until we can find her—but mebby she’s hid nigh m the grass—girl! gir-rll” he shouted, “ whar be you?!) But there came no answ -—no response save the screams of the negress in the wagon, and the yell of savages on the plain. _ “Thar, hear that, boy! it’s time to make ourselves seldom in these parts. The purgato- rians are comin‘ back. Mebby Humility can foller the trail of the gal; come with me, .Tom. Here; pup, come away, and let that varmmt 80 now. The divil ’ll finish him.” The old ranger moved rapidly away, follow— ed by Idaho Tom and his dog. Straight toward the point where he had left Snowball he made his way. But, to his sur- prise, he could not find the darkey where he believed he had left him. “ I’m afraid the varmints has skeered that niggero and the hosaes out of the country,” he said. “ I know it war nigh here that I left him, but drotted if 1 can see anything of him." “Can you see anything at all?” asked Tom. “Nothin’ but blindin’ darkness. all other colors and objects. But I b’lieve I’ll call to the niggero," and so saying, he uttered a low call; but there was no response. “Dog my boots if he ar’n’t gone~he’s made a scarcity of hisself, and 50’s ole Patience, my mare. But she’ll not go fur; she knows her business just as nateral as water does its course. You know she’s a sagacious critter, Tom? and I tell ye she’s lost none of her vim. Oh, mur— der! you ort to see’d her elevate a red-skin ‘over the river,’ a few days ago. It’s a fact, nothin’ war ever found of him but his mocca- sins. They war right where he stood when she fired at him, and she jist h'isted him right slap dab out of his slippers as easy as fallin’ off a log. A monsterous kicker is that mare, Tom; and the older she gits, the sollider she puts ’em in—just kicks fire out of the atmosphere—fact; but, boy, what—what ails you?” Tom stumbled and fell over something lying across his path. “Moses!” exclaimed Tom, rising to his feet, “I fell over a human body, be it living or dead!” “Great Solomon! you don’t say! Mebby it’s the niggero, dead or alive; or it may be an Ingin’s outfit. Here, Humility, old pup, what is’tl Hist, old dorg, hist!” The dog frisked around his master’s feet, then set up a mournful howl. “That tells the tale, Thomas,” said the old man, in a tone of positive assurance. “ He’s dead, he he red, black or white; but I’m afraid it’s the niggero.” “I have some matches in my pocket and can ascertain,” said Tom. Then he struck a match, and, shading it with his hands until it blazed up“, stepped back and held it down close to the face of the prostrate form. The light flashed and went but, but it enabled the two to obtain a glimpse of the un- known’s face. It was a black face—the face of Snowball. It wore the awful seal of death. “ The red demons have found the niggero,” Dan said, with a deep—drawn sigh; “and all’s over with him, poor fellow. Thomas, we‘ve got to look after our own hair’s safety. If the en- emy git us our fate ’ll be that of the niggero. As for me, thar’s no one to mourn my loss; but if you should be killed, boy, thar’s no tellin’ what young eyes would grow dim waitin’ and watchin’ for your comin’." “Then let us be off, Dan,” Tom said; “ I might call my men, but for fear danger is closer than they, I will wait awhile.” “ Patience, my mare, must be nigh and I must hev her afore I leave. A low whistle ’ll be all that’s necessary to call her in,” and, as he concluded, he gave the call. Instantly the shrill whinny of a horse was heard a short distance away. “ Thar, did ye hear that familiar voice? war her‘n—Patience, my mare’s.” . “ But what does that mean?” asked Tom. It A strange light suddenly arose from behind ,, c a swell in the plain and floated toward them with a wave-like motion. For a moment the two men regarded it with no little wonder and curiosity; but, as it came nearer, its motions became more rapid, and the rangers decided that it must be a lantern carried on horseback. * They could hear the swish of feet through the grass, and as they came nearer, and the beams of light thrust their long, skeleton-like selvm out through the darkness, Tom said: “ Enemies, Dan.” “ Yes, drap aside and don’t let the light hit ye, for I’ll go a coon-skin that that’s Ingins be— hind that light.” “ Indians seldom carry lights when they hunt an enemy,” Tom observed. “ I know it, boy; but them cussed outlaws are at the head of that light business. That linchpin and lost mare will raise the furies in ’em, and they’ll leave nothin’ undone to slip a knife atwixt‘our hair and skulls." They turned aside and moved out of the line of the light. It' passed them, now rising and falling, then oscillating like a pendulum, with short, quick strokes. It went on past them a few paces and step . “ Ding the luck,” said Dan, in a whisper, “ we’ve got to git away from here, Tom; and I’m afraid ole Patience has got into ’em purga- torians’ hands. I must make another (all, any- how; then I’ll be satisfied.” And he did. Then he listened intently for some sound indicative of his mare’s approach. He heard nothing, but to his surprise and hor- ror saw that mysterious light turn and move directly toward them. “ Dakota Dan, we’ve got to keep still,” said Tom; “ we’re hunted by human bloodhounds.’ The light approached them, accompanied by the sound of feet. It was not a natural light, for its color seemed to change in and out of red and blue, white'and crimson, with every oscil- lation, casting weird and fantastic figures around. The rangers turned aside as it ap— proached them. Behind it the mystified plains- men beheld some dark, gigantic form, whwe extremities were lost in the gloom, stalking on- ward with long, sweeping strides. “ Gosh a’mighty, Tom, that must be the red eye of doom, or the optic of the Demon of Darkness!" exclainwd Dan, not a little puz- zled. Idaho Tom made no response. He was try- ing to make out the object moving behind the light, but so effectually was it screened from the rays that only the dimmest outlines could be seen; these, however, seemed of Titan pro- portions without any'tangible form. “ It is not a man behind that light, Dan,” he finally remarked; “and what it is I cannot Say.” D “ Tom, run; it’s artcr us again, “' exclaimed an. True enough, the light had turned, and again it was coming toward them. They wheeled about and boat a hasty retreat. But they could no longer evade the bearer of the light though they were govern] rods away, Turn and dodge as they would in the impene- It absorbs - trable gloom the blanng orb followed them. They broke into a run, and, as they sped along, Dan again called to his mare in hopes that she might hear him and come to his assistance. But in this he was disappointed. . “Tom,” the old fellow finally remarked, as he glanced back over his shoulder, “ that light is borne by no human hands. No human be ing could foller our trail as it is doing. We’re not visible to mortal eyes. Only the keenest scent could keep our track.” “ I don’t know, Dan,” responded Idaho Tom; “although it puzzles me, I am inclined to be- lieve it some human agency. But, step lively, friend Daniel; it’s gaining upon us.” The two' hurried on through the gloom en- deavoring to elude the pursuing terror. But their exertions were made in vain. It follow‘ ed them, turning and dodging whichever way they did, and finally it began to gain rapidly upon them. It came so close that they could see each other’s face, looking white and ghost- ly in its glaring light. ~ Filled with a vague fear, they quickened their pace. They ran on at the top of their speed, while still on in swift pursuit came that fearful Demon of Darkness! CHAPTER XIII. WHAT was IT?—-LIVELY TIMES. “ I CAN’T keep this up to-night, to—morrow and the next day, Tom,” said Dakota Dan, as they hurried on over the plain, the old man's breath coming quick and short; “I’m not as nimble as I used to was, Tom; age’s tellin’ on the old Triangle. My band’s not as steady as a rock, nor my eyes strong as a spy-glass, nor my Wind as good as it war, twenty years ago.” “Call your mare again, Dan; if you could only get onto her back, I could get along afoot,” said Tom, thoughtfully. Dan stopped and uttered another call. A horse whinnyed not far away, and behind them. Idaho Tom glanced back and saw that their pursuer was doubling upon them. The light was swaying and glimmering until it dazzled their eyes—blinded them. Dgep sounded the tramp of approaching footsteps “Drop aside, Dan, drop aside,” said Tom, “ or we will be caught in the light,” andgrosp— ing the old man bythearmhedrewhim hasti- ly aside out of the line of the light. The next moment the heavy tread of many feet swept past them. A low exclamation burst from Tom’s lips. “Ay! do you not seeinto it, Dan?" he said. “Nay, nay, Thomas,” replied the old man. “ That light is nothing but a bull’s-eye lan- tern hung to'the neck of a horse—the horse is following us, and not less than a dozen savages are following it. And that horse is no other, in my opinion, than—” “ Patience, my mare. Ay, the cunnin’ var- mints, I see into their little, game. They’ve caught the poor old critter, hung a light to her foremast, so that it might lead them to her marster’s side, knowin’, by some means or other, that she’d hunt me out of this terrible gloom. It’s a trick worthy of better brains, but, my sweet—scented vagabonds, you’ll not find old Dan Radrback and Idaho Tom sleepin’ like a brace of opium-eaters. Thomas, I feel like myself again, and if them varmints don’t look a leetle out, they’ll mm ag’in’ the big eend of an yearthquake. Boy, your hand is steadier than mine; can’t you snufl’ that light with yer revolver?” “ I can try,” rejoined Tom, drawing his wea- pon, “ but we will both have to drop ourselves in the grass the instant I fire, for the flash of my revolver will be sure to bring a volley of bullets this way.” Idaho Tom raised his revolver and, taking as good aim as the darkness would permit, fired. Then they sunkdown into the grass, and a mo- ment later a dozen bullets cut through the air where they had stood]; The young ranger’s shot at the light proved an unfortunate, as well as successful one. It struck the lantern and shivered it to pieces, but the oil that fed it being highly inflammable, be- came ignited and flashed up with a. broad, bril- liant glare. The fire communicated with the tall dry grass, and soon a pyramid of brilliant flames shot up into the gloom of night. The whole;surrounding plain became lit up for rods. Patience became frightened and fled away across the plain. A yell burst from a dozensavagethmatsand wasansweredbythesharpcrack, crackofour two friends’ revolvers. A number of the foe went down ere they could fully ascertain where the enemy lay. But when he survivors had gained this desired inf 'on they rushed upon them. Humility darted forward and seized one of them by the throat. The blare of a bugle came out from the darknem. Idaho Tom seized the coiled silver horn at his side and blew a startling blast upon it. Then he and Dan rose to their feet and engaged the sav- ageS. At this juncture a horseman galloped out of the darkness that hung over mountain and plain into the light of the wrecked lantern. The animal he bestrode was a beautiful black, handsomely caparisoned and full of mettle. The rider was small in proportions, and dress- ed in a sort of black gown to which was at— tached a hood that covered the head and a vail that resembled a mask. Through the eye—holes of the latter gleamed a pair of dark, shining eyes. Small and finely-shaped feet, incased in blue kid boots, hung in silver stirrups with jing- ling rowels at the heels. In a small hand, ooth and delicate asamaiden’s, was clutched a revolver —a tiny affair that flashed in the light a princely jewel. Straight toward the combatants rides this strangely-clad horseman. Wifln’n a few paces of them he draws rein; then, with a deliberate coolness, he selects a savageandfires. Truetoitsaim‘fheballgoes home. One after another is selected by this intrepid stranger and brought down by his un- erring aim. Then down from the north sweeps a dozen more horsemen at a wild, breakneck speed. Wild and startling ring their shouts and yells. Sabers and pistols flash above their heads. On- ward they come, striking terrortothe hearts of the savages and putting them to flight. ffA. shout of-victory went up from old Dan’s lips, and he hailed with joy the coming of the unknown friends. Around the scene of conflict gathered the victors. " Oh, great Judeal” groaned old Dan, as he gazed around him; “ I’m afeard he’s dead!” and he pointed toward the motionless form of lda« ho Tom lying face downward upon the earth, with the body of a dead savage lying across him. “ Dakota Dan!” burst in accents of surprise from the lips of the horsemen, who, with one or two exceptions, were all boys between the ages of eighteen and twenty. They were the devoted followers of Idaho Tom, excepting the cloaked and masked horseman who first ap- peared on the scene. In a moment all had dismounted except the masked stranger; and as each one passed along to where the body of their leader lay he wrung the hand_of_the old ranger cordially. “He’s dead! I’m afraid Toni is dead!” ex- claimed Darcy Cooper, in a tone that express— (d his deep sorrow; and his words fell like a thunderbolt upon his friends. They were struck speechless by the terrible announce- ment, while from the lips of the masked horse. man rung a cry of inward distress—a sharp, piercing cry. “ Judeal” exolaimad old Dan, who had been unable to notice but little around him hereto- fore; “ wa’n’t that the female woman’s scream! . sw’ar it sounded galishl” Before any one could reply, the strange horseman dismounted, and nmning to the side of the fallen ranger, stooped, and lifting his head, pillowed it upon his arm and-gazed down into his unconscious face. “He is not dead! he is not dead, I tell you!” he cried, in a wild, joyous tone, that sounded decidedly feminine. The masked stranger’s words broke the spell that bound the spectators, speechless and silent. “By the mercy of Heaven!” cried Darcy Cooper, in an undertone to his companion, “it is she—that good angel, Aree!” One of the lads took a canteen from the back of a. pack~horse, and advancing to the prostrate form of his beloved captain, administered some of its contents to him. The effect seemed ma- gical, for Tom soon showed signs of returning life. A careful examination of his person revealed the fact that he had onlybeen stunned by a blow, and in a few minutes he was upon hisfeet again. By the assistance of Dan and the’ presence of the dead around him, he was soon enabled to recall his situation; and when his eyes fell upon -l the masked face before him, the word “ Aree!” burst from his lips. The stranger replied in a few words, hastily, yet softly spoken, warning him of other dangers. ' By this time the light was dying out, there being no wind to fan it. Besides the gramwas damp with the heavy mist that hung around and over all. Idaho Tom was congratulated on his escape by his man, whom he was rejoiced to find around him. He turned and addressed a ques- tionto themaskedfigureathisside. Before ananswer could be given a yell out on the plain smote upon their ears. “To home! to horse!” cried old Dan; “the devils are comin’ back on us, two-forty strong!” While the others had been busyiu resuscitat- ingTom, Danhadcalled up hismare. In the pomession of one of the red-ddnsthathad been slain, he found his rifle and accoutermeuts, and when upon the back of his mare again, he pronounced the Triangle itself once more. Idaho Tom had lefthishorse incareof his men when he went to reconnoiter around the outlaws’ wagon, and the animal being at hand, be mounted it, and, followed by his men and Dakota Dan, rode away. Tom invited the masked stranger to accom- pany them; but with a shake of the head, and an imperative wave or the hand, the unknown turned and galloped away in a different direc- tion. At a sweeping gallop the rangers moved acro the plain, and not until assured that they were beyond immediate danger of the enemy, did they permit their animals to come to a walk. When they finally did, old Dan exclaimed, with a deep—drawn sigh of relief: “ I sw’ar, Thomas, that that little skrim- mage wa’n’t so slouchy, war it? Thought a yearthquake butted ye, didn’t ye? Bullets flew like dirt—flea thick, and tiger strong, didn’t they, though?” “ Yes, a little too thick to suit me,” respond- ed Tom. “ Not a smidgin’ too thick fur me, Thomas,” replied Dan; “ I like to see a lively fight—I want ’em all around 50’s I can spin ’em off at about the ratio that a feller would reel ofi’ circu- lar oaths arter settin’ down on the thorn of a healthy cactus. When man, hoof, and howler gits once under way—set in motion, I tell ye thar ’ll be somethin’ drap. Why, Thomas, the Tri— angle is a walkin’ hurricane, a tornado—a per— fect plague to red-skins and sich things in gineral.” “I know you usedto be, Dan; and I don’t see that your ardor, strength and courage have one particle.” “ You can’t notice it, Tom, but time is bring- in’ us in,” said the oldman, seriously. “ When we undertake to play possum on our enemies, there is more of the nateral trimble in my voice, more of a nateral limp in Patience’s walk, and more of a nateral brownkeetal wheez in Humility’s bow-wow factories Yes, timetellsonus, lad. When I leftyouinNe- vada, last spring, you were nearly a year younger than you be now, wa’n’t you? You’ve more of the solidity of manhood about ye now, and that mustache gives you a. more manly and resolute look. But, Tom, didn’t ye see that gal’s face! Didn’t you speak to her?” “I did not see her face; but I spoke to herin an undertone and was answered in the same way.” “I’ll bet anything that she war a pufect an- gel, for outlaws and robbers steal no other kind but gal-angels” “ You are right, friend Dan,” responded Tom, “ none but the purest, sweetest and loveliest have any charms to those prairie fiends; and, as men and fellowbeings, it is our bounden duty to rescue and restore her to her family.” “Tha'.’s it, Thomas, edmctly. You take to manly principles jist as nateral as water runs down hill. I’ve seed so much of border life, and love and sich things that I shouldn‘t won— der if ye wa’n’t in love now with the voice of that gal.” “ Tut, tut, Dan, you are inclined to jest,” said Tom. ‘3 “Captain Tom,” said Darcy Cooper, “is in love with a nymph of the Black Hills, Dan.” “ Wal, that’s a new thing to be in love with, I sw’ar,” said old Dan, a little doubtful of what he was talking about. “ What was it?—a squaw?—-red or whitel—gal or boy?” “ A beautiful girl, whom we met in the hills —the same who came to us during the fight, a. few minutes ago, robed in a black gown, and wearing a hood and mask. She is a robber’s daughter.” “Do tell!” exclaimed Dan; “holy pokersl then that gal’s in love, too. Queer, awful queer ’bout young folks. Time, howsumever, ’ll knock the poetry and romance outen ’em like a mule’s heel. Hullo, that! spur up, boys, spur u !” pThe sound of many hoofed “feet on the plain warned them of approaching danger, and put- ting their horses into a gallop, they moved sharply on until assured they were beyond the reach of enemies, when they halted for the night on the open plain. Each man attached the end of a lariat to his animal’s bit, and then made the other end fast to his saddle, the hollow of which served as a pillow. Dakota Dan entrusted the safety of the bivouac to the vigilance of his faithful dog, and with the assurance that no danger would ap- proach them unseen, the rangers fell asleep, and slept soundly until morning. With the first streaks of dawn the band was in the saddle and in motion. Feeling greatly invigorated by rest and sleep, they galloped sharply along in the light of the rosy morn. Around them lay the open plain, interspersed with little mottes of timber and brushwood, diversified by creeks and rivers, and tossed into an endless continuity of ocean-like waves. The party moved on until the red sky, all aquiver with the beams of the god of day, burst into flame, when the rangers stopped in a little clump of timber to breakfast on the remnants of their last meal. Before sitting down, however, Dakota Dan, as was his usual custom, concluded to reconnoi— ter the surrounding vicinity; and with his dog set ofl? toward the margin of the grove. He had been gone but a few minutes when the spiteful crack of a rifle rung out on the morning air, and the next moment Humility came flying back to camp in the wildest ter- ror. With blanched faces, the young rangers start- ed w their feet, gazing from one to the other with looks that spoke plainer than words. “ Come, boys!” exclaimed Idaho Tom, “ Dan‘s in trouble!” and the little band of heroes bounded away like deer, after their gallant leader. (To be continued—commenced in No. 324. ) “ THE WEAVER.” n! “ Tux." All day long, with busy hum. . I sit and weave these , In a homemade carpet. warm and bright, O’er some cottage floor to spread. A comfort for some humble home, A thrifty housewife a pride; Though ‘ ow half-hidden. half-despised, For those good days have died. But few homes, continued here and there, In all our fair bright land, Will you find a home-made carpet wrought By the housewite‘s on fair hand. How man an odd. ualnt fancy. How mainly a “A; tho t ‘ I drop and weave in and]: b t stripe As my simple task is wrou t. . Now swiftl there dos firm in fingers A stripe «If white ugh y True type of oocnt childh When sin was not there to h Then next is a , rose-tint, Does It not 01me ow Youth’s fem-las- hopos and ambitions When they first begin to row! Now 'tis changed to a dull leaden gray; The have hoavtigrotm! At M ood's prime 0 gather the tares, Which reckless youth sown. Now ’tis b k e darkness of crime, 01‘ misc and spalr: I shudder as I weave this picture— It seems to be really there! A from dun black it turns to gray; are u hope—the lost is saved! No rose tint now, but heaven‘s own blue; In truth and faith he’s saved! The nextis white—true emblem of peace, With this my dream is ended, I picture is finished, my task complete. ved work, where my dreams are blended. The Maslgd Miner; THE IRON-HERCHANT’S DAUGHTER. A TALE 0F PITTSBUBG. BY DR. WM. MASON TURNER, AUTHOR or “UNDER BAIL,” “ SILKEN CORD." t. CHAPTER XXIV. THE RED LIGHTS. Tm: shades of a dark, misty, disagreeable night had fallen upon the city. The lamps had long since been lit. The streets were being rapidly deserted, and the flamingshop windows were going out into darkness one by one. It was eleven o’clock. Striding rapidly yet stealtth along by the Union depot, at this late hour, two tall men took their way up an unfrequeutod street, leading to the hill beyond. They seemed to be anxious to avoid the flaming reflectors, for they drew their hats more closely over their eyes, and their large coats more snugly up around their ears. ‘They Were econ hid, however, in the friendly gloom of an alley, and at length entered Bed- ford avenue. Turning at once to the left, they began the "cent of that steep thoroughfare. “ Walk up, Teddy; come closer! I want to speak a few final words with you.” “Yes, boss, 1am here,” said the man, pant— ing from exhaustion. _ " I have seen a strange shape, Teddy, hang~ ing around my cabin, of late,” said thefirat speaker. “ I saw it last night for the third time, and I am not mistaken. It was a heavy. stalwart man. He did not see me, yet it was evident he- was watching round the house. Here let us stop; we are far enougn,” he said, suddenly, “and I am blown, too!" They seated themselves on a large stone post, thrown by the roadside. “And I, too, boss, for we have come at a slkhing stride. I am willing to rest, especial- ly as you say there is still work before us to- night.” “ Yes, Teddy; there is work! The house, I am sure, is suspected and watched—why, and by whom, I do not know. The girl must be removed; you and I must do it, and do it quiefll ; and then, before the dawn of day, the furniture must be brought away. Have the carnag' 9 ready by half — past one o'clock. [‘here will be no prowlers then. By a smart drive to the ‘ Shinley ’—-for it is there I shall take her—you see I can return soon, and get the wagon. I’ll help you, and one load will take all. The truth is, Tediy, we are in a scrape.” “ We. boss? Why, 1—” “Yes, we, for you are implicated as much as I am—mOre so. too; and salt wouldseem in a. court of justice.” The other made no reply; he acquiesced quietly in the decision of his companion. “I’ll do my part, boss,” at length he said: “but I hope you’ll pay me tonight, sir, for you say you’ll be gone for a while.” “Do you not trust me, Teddy? However, ’u’s nothing; it shall be as you say. Meet me on the hill at half~past one—that is, one hour and a half from this time. You can conceal the carriage in the hollow, to the left of the street, you know; you have done so before. Meet me then, and I will pay you. And now be OK, for you have no time to'lose. I will hurry home and fix up a few thing.” The men at once separated—one reth down the avenue, the other striking acmthe lower end of Cliff Hill toward the Allegheny river. We will return .or a brief season to the cell of Tom Worth. Whemold Boa had, gone, the prisoner arose, and, approaching the grating above him, drew the letters out from his bosom, and perused them leisurely min. Then he glanced about him. He rapidly [fluted together all the papers which he hadwrltten from time to time since he had been in prison. He tore them to fragments, bit by bit, and flung them under the mattress. Then he gathered up the few articles of wearing apparel he had with him, and put them on, _one by one. Smiling himself so as to front the grated window, he stretched his limbs out'lanily, and letting 111! head full upon his breast, seemed to court slumber. One of these singular letters we cannot now lay before the reader—we mean the letter bearing on its envelope a foreign stamp. But the other, the briefer one, ran thus: “ M Dlun Fauna), for such I know you to bez—I have earned all! Iknomyou are innocent of the crime of which you are charged, as you were bold and fearless in savin me that terrible night from certain destruction! erest. chance has given me an opportunity to write to you. God in his mercy grant that the chance will Jimve availing! I know you have a staunch frien in Ben Walford; from what I have read of him, I know he can be trusted. I amke t as a prisoner in a house on a high hill, and within t e city limits. Where, I cannot exactly say Tell your friend, the old miner, to go to some emin- ence and watch all around him to-morrow n! ht— - watch in every direction —and let the hour he alf- past one o‘clook. At that hour, if he keeps his eyes well about him. he will see some flamin balls of red light floating on the air vunwu'here. get him mark well the spot, and hasten hither, Im- I um then ,’ The rest leave to him. I can write no more. I long to be free, that you may be. my preserver! The night grew on; the darkness became more intense. Tom Worth still sat with his head bowed on his breast; his heavy, regular breathing told that he was sleeping soundly. Twelve o‘clock rung out. Suddenly, and before the vibrations from the neighboring clanging bells had ceased to thrill in the air. Tom started inhis chair. A distant. faint, ticking sound caught his car; it came from the grated window above. The prisoner slowly arose and gave a faint whistle. It was answered immediame from above. Then the young man stood silently awaiting. He could distinctly hear the heavy, labored breathing, as of a strong man doing work which taxed his strength to the utmost. With bated breath he waited. Suddenly the loose rubbish and mortar from above rolled down into the cell, and a cold gust of wind blow in. ‘ The grated window was entirely remm ed! A moment after, a stout hempen cord was met noiseleosly down Into the cell through the open window. The prisoner clutched it as a drowning man grasps a slender straw. “ Haul away, Ben!" he said, in a low, excit- ed, but determined voice. The rope at once tautened; then came the terrible strain, as the prisoner's full weight bore‘ like lead on the creaking cord But that cord was faithful. Up—up—the window was reached. In an instant the prisoner felt his shoulders clutched in a giant’s grasp; then he was sIOle drawn through the aperture. A moment more. and he stood on the hard ground without, locked in a vise-like embrace against the brawny God bless you, as Glues HARLEY." breast of old Ben Walford. But they lost no time. They turned at once, walked a few rods, sprung over the iron rail~ ins: lightly, and stood in the street, now si— lent and deserted. They crossed Fifth avenue, and when thw had reached the somber shadow of the tower- ing Cathedral they paused. “ Here‘s the place!" said the old miner, in a low tone; “and, my boy, ’tis a giddy climb outside of the steeple on that light scaffolding. Thank God that is there! It’san awful risky business on such a night as this. Yet the top of that steeple is the only place that will serve us; it is high enough!" “ Yes, Ben, and we must climb it, come what may I" ~ “ Then come, Tom; we’ve no time, for I mustget a carriage yet. ’Tis now not very far from one o’clock, and we must not hesi— tote.” The old man spoke in a low, excited, but decided voice. Nothing further Was said. The two men passed softly around the inclosure to the left of the CothedraL—that is, down Grant street, and, leaping over the fence, groped their way beneath the overhanging Molding which led up even to the summit of the giddy spire. They reached the first scaffolding, and searching about found another ladder leading higher. The other staging was reached; an- other ladder found; and thus, on and on, up- ward and, upward, the two friends climbed higher and higher. The sharp steeple was growing more taper- ing and slender, moment by moment; and now, as the men paused for breath, it seemed that they could girdle it in their arms. Glancing upward—there in the uncertain gloom just above them, towered the cross! A sickening feeling crept ov or Tom Worth, and he dared not glance below. Be cowered down on the narrow staging that swung and rocked under the wind, which at this great al- titude, blew and sung so madly; and with closed eyes and almost mapended breath, he clung on with a nervous grasp to the swaying boards, which alone held him from dosime- tion. - Not a word was spoken for several minutes. At length oldBcn said, in a low voice: “ A ticklish place this, Tom! Hold on tight! :Vec’an see the top of Mount Washm' gton from are “ Can you see thetop ofBoyd‘s Hill?" asked the other, in a low breath, without opening his‘ eyes. He dared not trust himself «yet to look once, despite the gloom 3 him. “lEasily, and t' very top!” was old Ben’s "P Y- ’ “Then watch in that direction, 1hr, unless I am wondrously mistaken, We will-no that way WM we seek." »,.‘ ‘ Then ensued a long silence. The time sped swiftly by, and still the old man watched. One o‘clock had sounded, and Tom Worth had at Initiated to look around him. He was painfully excited. Slowly glide the minutes one by one, and then suddenly up half-hour stroke pooled loud and clear fun a neighbori bel . The men stained their eyesngarounduythem, by: -y..; “post before the echo of the clock- bell ceased to quiver on the dead. sleeping air, .red 1131;“ as‘of aball of flame, Imall,and quickly nesting, flushed out in the night, far “my, apparently on the distant horizon. Then mother, and another, and another still! And m all was darkness. “ She haskept her word!” said Tom Worth, “and I was nor mistaken! We must hurry, Ben, for Boyd’s Hill is more than a step from my? 80 saying, Tom Worth slid along the plank to the end, swung himself around the upright scantling which held the scaffold, reached the friendly ladder, and commenced the descent. Old Ben followed close behind him.