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SIMPLY A WORD.

BY El). '1‘ LEE.

Simply a word, as I passed along;

'(lnly one word that caught my ear.

\ of, coming from ‘midsi that laughing throng.
Twas just the word I never hear

llul what it sounds like a deafening gong;
And I see an angel drop a tear,

As he writes in the book of Life some wronu.
Done against Him we should love and fear.

 

Simply a word, yet it told the tale
A tale of this woild’s sin and Woo:
Of a youth drilling before Life‘s gale,
On and on midst the ice and snow,
\\ ilh naught but his hands to hold the sail,
As waters roar and north winds blowl
Uh, would to (lod it had been a. wailv—
A cry for pardon soft and low!

Simply a word, carelessly spoken;
Only a word ~~ \\ hat was the cost!’
Simply a precious promise broken,

0n! n k0 to heaven lost.
Oh, w mt Idle words are spoken,
By the young and I‘ll! yes, both! 7
Oh, what. golden rule ls broken,
Broken by a careless owl/I .’

 

Silver Star,
THE BOY KNIGHT;

on,

The M yslcry of Osman, the Outlaw.
A PRAIRIE ROMANCE.
BY OLL COOMES.

CHAPTER VIII.
srxnnownxwx.

'l‘mc little peninsula resounded with the wild
yells of the ballled red—skins, as they glided
iither and there in search of the young scout.

Ilis escape was shrouded in mystery to them;
but, let us see how the ho got away—so sud-
denly, so silently: while hite Crane and his
warriors were so intoxicated with triumph and
lost in the wild frenzy of a. scalp—dance, Silver
Star became conscious that some one was again
fingering his bonds, and ere he was aware of
the fact, a huge hand reached around the tree
and seizing him by the collar, pulled him around
into the shadows of the ine. At the same in—
stant a voice whispered in his ear:

“ Arkansaw, boy, Arkansaw!” and then the
lad knew who had rescued him, and responded
by mowing the old scout’s hand. “Git onto
my ck, boy, and I’ll trot you off out of dan—
gen—come, now, hurry!” the old man said, in a
nirried whisper.

Silver Star could do nothing better than obey,
and the next moment he was being borne awa
throu h the darkness of the woods on the bee
of 01% Arkansaw. The old scout lided and
dodged here and there as thou h the ad were a
mere child. He soon came to he river’s edge,
and wading into the water, deposited his burden
in a canoe that stood concealed among some
overhanging willows

“ lVait there till I 't my arms and baggage,
lad," the scout sai( , and turning, he went
ashore.

The yells of the savages came near in the
woods. The boy started with fear and anxiety.

A moment later a footstep sounded close at
hand; then a form hounded into the canoe, and
taking up the paddle, drove the boat out into
the river. Silver Star never dreamed but that
tho persMi was Old Arkansaw, hut judge of his
surprise and consternation upon discovering
that a stranger occupied the boat with him.
Nor did he appear to he more surprised than
did the stranger himself at the presence of tho
lloy Knight. llo couscd paddling and sat like
one transfixed, gazing in silent astonishment
into the other’s face.

Silver Star saw that the stranger was a young
man, not over three-and—twoiity years of ago.
He was rather prepossossing in appearance,
with dark hair and eyes, with a heavy, black
nuistache shading an expressive mouth. Upon
his head he WOI'O a cap made of the feathered
skin of a sparrowhaw . The head and hill of
the bird answered for the peak, and lpresented
a. rather novel ap iearance m the me
of the moon.

 

‘r the

 

low glow ‘
round his shoulders was a;

 

Bandy, flourishing her big iunbrella—~inviting

reco rnition.

6‘

'hat would the Sparrowhawk do?” asked
Indian girl, speaking good English.
“ Would he slay a 'he‘pless youth? Is Sparrow-
hawk a coward?”

“Oh, I’m a fool, at times, fair Nathelah; I
am crazy. Pardon me, Silver Star,” the outcast
said, apologetically, yet the Boy Knight detect-
ed a tinge of sarcasm in his tone.

“ You’d ort to be laid over my knee and

‘y spanked furaciously,” put in Mrs. Bandy: “ this

thing 0’ young folks a-quarrelin’ is humiliation.

‘ lt’s bad enough for old folks to fuss and fight;

and that reminds me that if I git (hem paws on
my husban 1, old Kit Columbus Bandy, please
gracious I’ll be a salivatin’ blister to him.’

“ Mrs. Band y ” said Silver Star, “ I left our

‘ husband in the ndian camp on the peninsn a.”

wild, hysterical cry burst from the old wo-

, man’s lips, and she was about to respond, when

Sparrowhawk exclaimed:

“”We, must not tarry here; danger surrounds
us.

“ No, the red-men will find you,” declared the
maiden.

“Where to go I scarcely know,” said Silver
Star; “ I am wounded and can only hobble
along.”

“ Silver Star is the enemy of my people,” said
Nathelah, “yet I would not harm an enemy.
Let the pale—face boy take Nathelah‘s canoe and
go up the river to his people.”

“ iit what will Nathelah do?” asked the lad.

“ I will go with the Sparrowhawk.”

_ Without further words Nathelah and Silver
Star exchan ed seats. As the latter sat down
before Mrs. andy, she said:

“ Well now, Silver Star, if
jection, l’ll go with you.
want to be on the move.”

The Boy Knight thought it strange that the
old woman did not return to the peninsula Where
he had left the object of her search, the source
of her troubles.

When the occupants of the canoes were ready
to part, Sparrowhawk spoke:

“ Remember, Silver Star, when we meet
again we meet as mortal enemies.”

Before Silver Star could reply, he dipped his
paddle and sent his canoe rushing through the
waters.

“ Law-sakes! dear me, What a crusty, crabbed
soul that Sparrowhawk is!” decided Mrs. Bandy;
“ he’s most awful queer, too. I can’t understand
him any better’n I can a Babylonian inscription.
I don’t b’lieve he’s the clear quill, atwixt you
and me, Silver Star. He’ll shoot in the back,
too, if he 'ts the chance, so on want to look
out. You (1 been deader’n 0] Noah if it hadn’t
been for that sweet little duck of a Nathelah.
You see, she’s Sparrowhawk‘s sweetheart—she
told me so, the sweet dear . Every few nights
they meet up ’bout Deep 0rd and bill and coo
like doves; but if ever they marry it’ll be fight

on have no ob-
P ease gracious, I

broad collar or cape, made of the quill-feathers 7 _

of eagles and other large birds, artistically ar—
ranged upon buck—skin.

This feathered stranger was the first tospeak. ;
oungster,” he said, in a low, deliberate ,

“ Sir
tone “ now come you here in my canoe?”

Silver Star responded.

“ \Vell, it is my boat, and I should be glad to
know whom I have for a companion—whether
friend or foe.”

“ I am Silver Star.”

“ The Boy Knight?”

“ Yes.”

“ I am Sparrowhawk, the Outcast.
enemies,” and he drew his revolver.

“ I am unarmed and wounded,” responded
the Boy Knight, fearlessly and immoved.

“ I am not a coward, Silver Star; 1 will take
no advanta e of you. But my race are all my
enemies. hey have hunted me and mine for
years—seeking our lives. The hand of man,
" red—skin and white, is raised against me. You
have hunted me, Silver Star, and—”

“ You are mistaken, Sparrowhawk; I have
not hunted you,” the young scout reioined.

“ Yes, you have hunted me, thong 1 you may
not have known whom you were hunting at the
time. Now we have met, face to face. I have
the advantage—your life is in my hands. I am
armed, but you are not. Were on free, and
were we to meet in the o n fie (1, you would
meet me as an enemy. on would know me,
for I wear no disguise. Here, I give you one
of my revolvers, and a chance for your life.”

Silver Star mechanically took the weapon.
The click of Sparrowhawk’s pistol started the
young knight from his stupor. _ .

B this time the canoe had drifted into the
sliml'ows of the southern shore of the river.

\Ve are

were still rin ring down he night. _

Never in all his life did Silver Star experience
the feeling that now took possession of him. He
saw in the wild, half-demoniac glare of Spar—
rowhawk’s eyes the expression of a madman.
Never before had he met this strange bei’n r.
Was he mad? ’Why did he imagine himse f
hunted by every one? As these questions flash—
ed through the ioy’s brain, he saw that he must
act with dispatch. . _ .

“Sparrowhawk,” he said, “this is folly; we
need not he enemies.”

“ Oh, sir, but we are enemies,” he answered,
in a strange, determined tone. “Defend your-
self.”

“ Shoot, then, for I will not,” said Silver Star,
dropping his revolver in the boat, and folding
his arms over his breast. I

Slow] and deliberately the madman raised
his revo ver and pointed it at the breast of the
boy.

 

CHAPTER IX.
BULLETS or AN AVENGER.

“ SI’ARROWHAWKI Sparrowhawk!” cried a
voice, as the young madman drew his pistol.

At sound of the voice the hand of the would—
be murderer dropped at his side.

Then from the shadows of the shore glided a
canoe with two occupants. It ran alongside of
that of Silver Star and Spari'owhawk. It con-
tained two occupants—one a young Indian girl,
and the other a white woman—the redoubtable
Ellen Sabina Bandy herself. _

It was the voice of the Indian girl that stayed
the hand of Sparrowhawk, and it seemed to act
like ma ric upon the ears of the'outcast. His
whole ace and voice changed in an instant.
He started as if from adream—a horrible nights
mare. _ _ f _

“ Why, Nathelah, is it you?” he exclaimed,
“ And me too, please gracious,” put in Sabina

 

“ Ily mistake, I presume, if this is your boat,” ‘

 

. l ' ' d e
The yells of the savages upon the peninsula ‘ sewed by “01th hands an 8‘ savag

 

 

 

“ Oh Lord! oh gracious Peter!” she exclaimed
in gasps, “ did—did you hear that? It‘sasl told
you; that was the «all, choked report of that

ileut Avenger’s weeponl”

The savages were horror—stricken. The name
of the Silent Avenger was fraught with terror
to them, for many a comrade had fallen under
his deadly aim.

Leaving the body of their fallen comrade, the
other two savages hurried on toward the vil-
lage with their prisoner.

Sabina now took the lead, and with her umbrel-
la in a position for instant defense, she soon left
the red—skins and prisoner behind. This was a
i‘gllipf to the savages, for her tongue was never
s i .

They were nearing the edge of the opening 011
the western side of the village, when, suddenly,
another of those dull, whip—like reports stung
through the darkness, and another savage went
down, shot through the heart.

This left but one red-skin, and determined to
sell his life dearly—even at the cost of lOsin r his
captive—and avenge the death of his friend, he
drew his tomahawk and bounded into the
thicket whence the shot had come, and where
he had seen the flash of a gun.

Silver Star stood alone, but with his hands
bound. He had been startled by the tragedy
enacted under cover of the shadows around
him, and stood, like one transfixed, and listened.
He heard the retreating footsteps of the dread
Silent Avenger and the nrsumg footfalls of
the red-skin. He heard t 1e scream of Sabina
Bandy directly before him, and then he heard
the dull report of the avenger’s pistol to his
right. A moment’s silence ensued, then follow—
ed the sound of runnin feet upon the rustling
leaves, and Mrs. Ban y, panting for breath,
came up to where Silver Star stood. Her face
was white with fear, her frame shook with
emotion and her voice trembled with affright.

“ Oh, llord!—oh Lord l” she exclaimed, “that
dreadful Silent layer’s abroad! Oh, Silver
Star! what will we do? We’ll be slain, slain,
slain!” and she wrung her hands in despair.

“ Untie me, Mrs. Bandy,” the boy said, and as
the woman was engaged in freeing the lad’s
hands he continued: ‘ You had better flee to
the village, if the Indians are your friends, and
stay there. I will take care of myself. I have
no desire for your company longer, for you
lied on me, when the savages captured us, to
shield yourself. Besides, these woods are no
place for a hysterical old woman.”

Old Sabina laughed softly, derisively; then,
as she turned to depart, she said:

“ Please gracious, I know my gait, young
man, if I am a female woman. I know what
I’m about, and you’ll know, too, some day, if

you kee your seal ,” and then, with a spiteful
toss of t e head, 5 e whirled on her heel and

vanished in the darkness.

“What am I to understand b that?” mused

the boy, as he turned and hobble away through

 

 

 

danger, Arkansaw went ashore and followed
along the river until he had passed from the
peninsula. Then, continuiii on no the river
toward the Indian villa efiie finally espied a
canoe half beached upon t e shore; and launch-
ing it, he resolved to cross over to the opposite
shore. Stepping into the craft, he took up the
paddle and sent the boat out into the ri\ ( r.

At this int the stream was about a hundred
yards wi e, and the shore before him was a
ow, barren sandy beach that shone white under
the mellow moonbeams. Beyond this ran the
woods and its dark shadows like the grim walls
of a battleinent. Upon this the eyes of the
plainsman were fixed as he plied his paddle, and
when about half-way over the stream he was
startled by si ht of a dark object that emerged
from the she. 0Ws and approached the river. It
was plainly outlined against the white, sloping
beach. It was neither a beast nora human,
and yet it was possessed of life—it was mov-
ing—rolling across the sand—approaching the
riVer.

The paddle became motionless in Arkansaw’s
hand. The cold sweat started from every pore
in his body. Like all men of his class he was
superstitious, and in the strange object there
was something unnatural. It was round—re-
sembled a huge ball—and coal-black; it was a
mystery, true enough. It came down to the
water’s edge and there paused. Old Arkansaw
kept his eyes fixed upon it and suddenly he
saw a little jet of flame spit from its center, and
hrard the whiplike report of a gun come over
the water.

Then a wild wail of agony burst from under
the forward end of the old man’s canoe. Look-
ing forward he saw a savage float out from
under the prow of the boat—his arms beating
the waves in the agonies of death. He had un-
doubtedly been concealed there when the bor-
derman entered the boat, and was waiting an
opportunity to dispatch the old scout, and would
no doubt have succeeded but for the provident
shot of—whom?

Lifting his eyes from the dying warrior, and
glancin toward the shore, he saw the unknOWn
object oating back into the woods.

‘By the holy smoke of Jerusalem!” he ex-
claimed, “ that war the Silent Slayer, shurer’n
guldy! But what for a mask did it wear? It
beats the very Old Harry. Well, by Judas! I’ll
not land there, as anybody’s aware of, so I’ll
push on up—stream a leetle furder.”

So saying he dip (1 his paddle, turned half-
around and pace up-stream; but he soon
realized that he was running a great risk, and
so he crossed back to the northern shore. Once
more within the shadows, he felt at ease and
stopped to listen. He heard the dip of a pad-
dle, and a moment later, a canoe With two oc-
cupants ap red in sight. They would pass
hard by. s they came closer he saw that one
was Sparrowhawk, and the other the Indian
maiden, Nathelah. They were conversing in

 

“ Shoot, then, for I will not,” said Silver Star, dropping his revolver, and. fielding his arms over his breast.

and quarrel like wet hens. Men are most awful
deceitful critters, if old Kit Columbus Band is
a specimen of the average man. But we’d et-
ter be pullin’ out 0’ here, son, or them (lasted
red—skins may come chargin’ down onto you.”
“ You have no fears of them, then é” _
“ N o, onl I’d ruther not be catched with their

enemies. hey are naterally good to a female
woman, and treat me well. I come and go 31st
as I lease.”

Si ver Star took up the paddle and headed the
canoe u the river. He was skilled in the use of
the paddle, and sent the craft gliding within. the
border of shadows that hung along the right
shore.

Suddenl , when he believed they were beyond
all immex iate danger, the prow of the boat
struck a 10 in the water with such violence as
tothrow tfie occupants from their seats. Be-
fore Silver Star could recover himself, he was
all rung
in quaverin echoes down the w ed halls
through which the White Earth wound its

wa . .

Shbina Bandy screamed hysterically; but Sil-
ver Star believed her fears were assumed—that
she, as well as Kit Bandy, was a traitor to those
she claimed as friends; and that she had been
instrumental in his toes. ture.

A couple of sava es c imbed into the canoe,
and with thongs of uck-skin bound the _hands
of the Boy Knight; and by the time this was
accomplished, the boat had drifted out into the
open, moonlit water. _ ' _

Silver Star was now permitted to rise to 9. Sit-
ting posture, and the first thing he noticed was
that Sabina Bandy was gone. He . glanced
around him, and saw the woman standing erect
and floating down the river in something he
could not make out; and before he could ascer-
tain, he was taken ashore; and, notWithstanding
his wounded ankle, he was put upon the mare
and compelled to walk along between his cap

tors. .

Three of the savages took the youth in cus—
tody, while the others embarked in the canoe
down the river. The former had not was far
when they were dovertakken b Mrs. Ban y, who,

arl exhauste exc ime : _
me“ Bid-men, you‘d better be careful; the Silent
Avenger’s in the woods.”

This information had its effect upon the In-
dians, for they quickenedtheir pace, fairly drag-
gin their wounded captive along. .
ey had 'onrneyed but a short distance
when, suddenly, there was a dull, pistol-like re-
port of a firearm, and a savage yell of agony.
One of the Boy Knight’s captors had been

'n! _
519A iercing scream from the lungs of Sabina
Ban y tore through the air like the scream of a
hyena; and, wild with affright, she came
bounding up from the rear where she had been
lagging.

 

the woods; “ did I insult the old Xantippe, and
did she mean that for a silent threat? or is there
something more about that woman than any one
sus )ects?’

us musing, the youth moved on a short
distance and sat down to rest his wounded
limb. From Sabina. his thoughts went back
into the past. The brou ht up the sweet
Eoung face of that c ild of t e clouds, the fair

lwe.

“Oh, where was Elwe?” his heart cried out.
But there was no solution to the question, and
the more he pondered over it, the more vague
and painful it became. ' .

One by one he finally took up the other incr-
dents of the past two days and nights, and at-
tem ted to solve the mystery connected With
mos of them. The conduct of White Crane
was extremely singular to him, and what
method there could be in it, was entirely beyond
his comprehension. The treachery of old Kit
Bandy was pal ble enough; but the vengeance
of the Silent layer was all a mystery. Who
the Silent Slayer was no one knew; but Silver
Star half suspected the Sparrowhawk. .

Altogether, there was a combination of
characters and mysteries surrounding the
events of the past few days, so greatly com-
plicated that the boy hero gave up all ope of
solving it, and risin to his feet, he limped
away slowly toward t e river.

 

CHAPTER X.
KIT BANDY AT BAY.

AFTER leavin Silver Star in the canoe, Old
Arkansaw went k into the woods to secure
his gun and accouterments, and when he re-
turned, great was his horror and surprise to find
both boat and be gone.

He listened an heard the di of a paddle, and
looking through the foliage, 6 saw, out upon
the open, moonlit river, a canoe with two occu-
pants rapidly drifting down the river. One of
the occupants he knew was Silver Star, but the
other he did not reco 'ze. He was about to
call to his young frien when the sound of ap-
proaching feet warned him of the danger of
such an act.

Wadin _ .
conceals himself under some overhan ng Wil-
lows. The Indians, like hounds searc ing for
the trail of a fox, glided ast him, never dream-
ing that a foe was concea ed in the water Within
arm’s reach. _

Finally Old Arkansaw found himself alone
there in the silent depths of night. He knew
that Captain Barns and his men had escaped
to the mainland. He had seen Kit Bandy_fall
at the beginning of the fight, and still remained
in ignorance of the we matters had terminated
with that eccentric 0] individual, but believed
him dead. _ I

When assured that the Vicmity was clear of

into the river, the old borderman'

 

quite an audible tone. Arkansaw listened.
Sparrowhawk was s eaking: .

“ Yes, Nathelah,” e was saying, “ when Sil-
ver Star and I meet again, one or the other of
us must die.”

“Why does Sparrowhawk hate the Boy
Knight?” the scout heard the maiden de-
mand.

“ Because he knows too much; he hates me.”

“ Is that all, Sparrowhawk?”

“Yes; it is enough! Do you think I would
tell Nathelah, my betrothed, a falsehood?”

“Have you not told me how beautiful the
white maiden is that you rescued from the
river? Have you not told me how she talks of
the youn Silver Star? Do you not believe she
loves the o Kni ht?”

“ What if did, .. athelah?” the lover asked.

“ The heart of the pale-face is false and fickle
sometimes,” replied the girl, “and Sparrow-
hawk may learn to love another.” _

“ Oh my pretty darling,” replied Sparrow-
haWk, lifting her hand to his lips, “ I see you
are jealous of the fair Elwe; but she will never
take your place in m heart. I will send her
away some day; but ilver Star shall never set
eyes upon her a ain.” I

“By the lor of Ballyhoolan!” exclaimed
Arkansaw, as the lovers passed beyond hearmg;
“ that tells a tale. That young bastion has got
Elwe in his power; and by the great J ohn_ Rod-

ers! I’d 've my interest in the moon if the

0y Knig t was here now. VVon’t it pop a
beam of oy into his heart though, when I tell
him that lwe’s alive? Judas! ever hing With
him has been Elwe, Elwe, Elwe. h, but he’s
in love with her, heels over head- and now I
must look him up; then we’ll s y the Sparrow-
hawk’s nest out. And that Na helah: now, A'r—
kansaw, my old beauty, she’s no more an Ingin

' 1 than Sabina Band ’3 an an el—not a bit of
it. By hokey! I won er if I’d s ick up, and put
my best hoof for’d, whether I couldn’t cut that
S arryhawk out?” and the old plainsman laugh-
ed) heartil at his own absurd conceit. _

Again flynding himself alone in the night, the
old scout went ashore, pulled his canoe out of
the water, and began looking for a lace to pass
the rest of the eventful night. . e found a
great hollow log hard b , and Without a mo-
ment’s hesitation he got own upon his knees,
and having put his rifle in the log, crawled into
the hollow, and, stretching himself out, went
to sleep. _

When he awoke it was dayli ht, and Without
his narrow chamber he heard t e carol of birds
and the chatter of squirrels in the tree-tops;
but, instead of the fresh morning air the pun—
gent odor of smoke greeted his olfactories. .

“By Judas Iskariot!” he exclaimed to him-
self, "thar’s a fire ni h this log, and I’ll bet
some red-skin bastions as got a camp about. It
might be Whites, but how the deuce ’m I to tell?
I’ve got to back out of here, and them (lasted

 

.0

 

 

long legs '11 let ‘em know I’m coming long afore
I it out with my topsail.”

e listened and heard voices—voices of white
men talking. Among them he recognized the
vmce of Old Kit Bandy; but he could scarcclv
believe the evidence of his own senses, for he
believed Bandy had been slain. While think-
ing the matter over, he discovered that the log
was a continuous hollow; he could see out at
the other end. This would enable him to make
his exit forward, and at once he began creep-
ing slowly along toward the opposite end. “'lien
within a few feet of the exit, a small hole in
the side of the log enabled him to get a sight of
those outside. Kit Bandy was there in all his
old—time health and humor, and was being close-
ly watched, in the operation of roasting some
savory Venison upon some hot coals, by two
white men, both of whom were entire strangers
to Old Arkansaw.

One of tlic stran ers was rather an intelligent
and prepossessing— coking man, but there was
that about the drawn corners of the mouth and
eyes, the clouded brow and nervous, restless
movement of the body that did not, at all, im—
ress the man in the hollow log very favorably.
e was addressed by Kit and the other man as
“ Professor.” The other stranger Arkansaw put
down, at first glance, as a deep-dyed villain;
and,.judging by the manner in which Old Kit
Band re rarde him, it was also evident that
he— it— ad not a very good opinion of him.

The aroma of the broiling venison made Ar-
kansaw’s ver mouth water, and sharpened his
appetite unti silence almost ceased to be a. vir-
tue. He crawled on until his head was within
a foot of the exit, when he discovered half a
dozen sticks thrust in the ground near the log
with a slice of steaming hot venison cooling on
the end of each.

Assured, by the run of conversation outside,
that the eyes of the trio were not that way, Old
Arkansaw reached out and removed the meat
from the three nearest sticks and began eating
it With a voracious ap etite.

Presently he heard it Bandy say:

“ Now gentlemen, jist move erselves up to
the lick-block and try my sty e of dishin’ up
venison. .I alers prided myself on 'ttin’ more
concentrated glory into a slice of brOiled venison
than— Great horn of Joshua! What in the
stars become of that venison? I left a slice on
each of them sticks, and as I’m a born ni ger,
three of them are gone! Reckon a sneakiii dog
of some Ingin did slip up and gobble ’em up.”

“That’s rather stran 9,” said the man ad-
dressed as professor; “ a 0g couldn’t have come
here unseen.”

“ Strange, indeed,” added the other man, Her-
man Braash.

“Not a bit of it. by the roarin’ Hellispont l”
exclaimed old Kit as he saw a large, bony _
hand thrust from the hollow log, and deliber-
atel remove another slice of venison from a
stic ; “ that tells the tale! Did you see that in—
fernal tentacle of a human Octo hus snake in
another piece of our breakfast? hat log, men,
is infested.”

“What accursed impudencel” said Professor
Daymon.

“Shoot the skulking hound!” vociferated
Braash.

The professor drew his revolver, while old
Kit, bending over, gazed into the log. The
eyes of the latter met those of Old Arkansaw,
when a roar of laughter burst from the lips of
the scout.

“Great born that floored old Jerichol” ex-
claimed Kit; “ it’s that pizen old vagabone, Ar-
kansaw Abe! Come out of there, on (lasted,
ornery old babboon, and let me ma the stuffin’
out of you! Oh, but I’ll abolish you, my gay
old buttercup!”

Old Arkansaw crept from his covert and
bowing to the astonished trio, said “ Good—
morning,” and then seating himself upon the
log, drew his hunting—knife and began ickin
his teeth in a manner that equaled all t e coo
impudence they had ever witnessed. To add to
the surprise of the trio, he turned to Bandy and
said-

“ That venison’s a leetle stringy—done most
too rare for me.”

“You blasted 01d rapscallion!” replied Kit,
“that’s all purty well done, but it’s only bor-
rowed, now mind. But look here, Arky, this

entleman is Professor Daymon, and this Mr.
Ilerman Braash; and then this, gentlemen, is
Old Arkansaw Abe, the nuisance of the White
Earth, confound his ornery picter!”

Arkansaw bowed politely to the two men;
and notwithstanding the language in which the
introduction was given, Daymon and Braash
both addressed the old plainsman with apparent
surprise and no little respect. After a few
words the four sat down to breakfast, and when
their meal had been concluded, Braash and
Daymon walked out into the woods, promising
to return in a. few minutes.

As soon as they were out of sight, Old Arkan—
saw turned to Bandy and said:

“Kitsie, my rosebud of beauty, and paragon
of loveliness, do you know who you’re keepin’
com any with?” I _ .

“ hy, yes; Herman Braash, ClVll engineer
and government surve 'or, and Professor Day-
mon scientific man of t e expedition.”

“ How do you know, Kit?”

“ They said so.” _

“ Would you b’lieve I war an angel if I war
to sa so?” .

“ of; b a thunderated sight, Arky,” rephed
Bandy. ‘They said their company had en-
camped up the river last night; and durin’ the
night they concluded to make a reconnmssance
down toward the Ingin town, and got lost.
Meetin’ me, they concluded to stick by me till
this mornin’.” .

“Well, it may all be, Kitsie;.but I’ll sw’ar
the government selected some mighty dubious-
lookin’ men to make geography for our school
children,” . o _

“ Ya-as, that’s what I think; I didn’t hke the
looks of Braash from the fust—looks a mortal
sight like Old Arkansaw Abe—only better look-
in. ButI romised to go up to theircamp to-day,
and then I)
frauds.” _

“I’ll tell ye what I think, Band : that is,.yo_u
won’t see Surveyor Braash an Skienflintic
Daymon back here ag’in this day. I thnik
you’ve had the wool yanked over your full, lus-
trous orbs.” .

“Well, what makes you think so?” asked
Bandy, be inning to betray someuneasmess.

“ Ginera a pearances, K1t51e. ' Surveyor
Braash has it own, furtive look like a wolf;
and Skinflintic Daymon has the quick, restless
eye of a guilty conscience.” ”

“Complimentary to the country’s servants,
said Bandy; “ but for fear on are right, Ark ,
I’ll keep a look-out for t em. They may
wanted afore long, and—” .

“Yes and please the graCious, you’re wanted
now, 't Bandyl” cried a sharp, shrill vows,
and the next moment Sabina Bandy came
bounding from the woods and confronted her
recreant and ungrateful husband.

Kit, with a look of utter hopelessness, stood
at be. . D

( o be continued—commenced W No. 410.)

can see whether they’re surveyors or

 

 

A GENTLEMAN hired a boy to walk home be-
side him and carry a bundle, havm first agreed
to pay the lad fifteen cents. caching the
house'the man found he had no smaller change
than a quarter, and he said: ’

“ If you will call at my office at two o clock

’ he chan e.
I ll‘tlfilteit was to 6 cash down,” he protested.

“ So it was; but I haven’t the change, you see.
You’ll have to call at my office."

“ I’ll call,” growled the boy as he turned
away. “ but I know just how it Will work, When
I knock on the door a cross-eyed clerk Will yank
it open, ask me what I want, and when I tell
him he will ell out: ‘ That man went into bank—
ruptcy last .ptember, and now you git! That s
the way they allus play it on me, Sir, and I dru-
ther lose the fifteen cents than call the clerk a
dodo and have to dodge coal-scuttles all the way
down-stairs.” . _

The gentleman walked With him to the near-
est grocery aud made change.

._—.— .. “nu-

 

 

 

 

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