Vld Adams.

 

 

E._F, Beadle, i
gallium Adams, ’ I’i'nLisnnits.

   
  
 

COPYRIGHT, 1884 BY BEADLE AND Amns

  

 

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NEW YORK, MARCH 1, 1884.

 

 

Tamas IN Apvssontz

()ne Copy, four months, 81.00
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“ 0h, sir, mount and fly, or those bloodhounds will tear you to pieces; and-see! yonder come our worst foes, the Red Angels 1”

HITE BEAVER,

 

 

The Exile of the Platte;

 

Or, A WRONGED MAN’S RED TRAIL.

A Romance Pounded upon Incidents in‘the Border Life of Frank Powell
the “Doctor Scout,” late Surgeon in the United States army. and
now the “Mighty Medicine Chief of the Winnebagoes.”

BY HON. WM. F. CODY—“Buffalo Bill.”

 

CHAPTER VII.
A TRIO or sno'rs.

Foa a moment, after making the discovery of Ja-
nette's disappearance, the Doctor Scout was com‘
pletely nonplused.

His eyes rm ed furtively about the timber, but no-
where did they tall upon the object of his search.

The horses were there, his own noble white, and
the animals that had been ridden by Janette and
her father; but the fair rider was nowhere Visible!

“What can it mean?" he slowly asked himself.
“ Can she have feared me and so deserted me?” was
the uestion put to himself.

“ o, no, she cannot have done that; but, if so, I
must track her, and prove to her that 1 am to be
trusted.“

Then his face suddenly paled as he asked the ques-
tion almost in a whisper:

“ Good God! can her sorrows have driven her
mad, and she now be wandering over the irairies?

“ Well. whatever has happened to her, must find
her, and defend her with my life.

“Ah! I had alm0st forgotten that I have hounds
upon my trail,” and springin to busy‘ action he
soon had the three horses sadd ed and bridled.

“ She cannot have gone toward the prairie yonder,
or I would have seen her. I will follow the bend of the
river around, even if I have to fight these Red An-

- gels.”

SO sa in he s rung u on the back of his own
horse, ahdffeading the ot er two, rode toward the
river-bank. _

He had gone but a short distance when _he sud-
denly drew rein and gazed intently before him.

“Poor girl, I might have expected she would be
there!” .

Dismounting, he walked toward the little clump
of trees a short distance before him, and where was
visible the form of Janette.

She was seated ll on one of the logs upon her fa-
ther‘s grave, and ending over, her face buried in
her hands, her wealth of golden curls hanging about
her in wild profusion and resting upon the grass at

er feet.

Approaching softly the Doctor Scout called her
name:

 

 

“Janette!”

N 0 answer.

“Janette!”

Still she did not move, and, with a shade of anx-
iety upon his handsome face he stepped forward
and bent over her. . _

“Poor child, she has gone to sleep in this drear
spot. Come, Janette; we must be 03." I _

At his touch she sprung to her feet and in a bewd-
dered vray gazed at him; but memory came quickly
back to her, and she said:

“ Oh, it is you, sir?"

“Yes, I missed you and found you here; but, let
me aid you to mount for we must be off."

“ Has anything happened, Sir?”

“ No. Janette.” I

“ Will I not see my father’s grave again?” and the
tears came into her beautiful eyes.

“ Yes, many times, for, if you-are content to re-
main here on these plains, you Will hve not far from
here, and can come often to this spot, which now is

sacred to on.“
so“ You are syo kind, sir; but see, is not that a wolf?“

She pointed through the timber as she spoke. and
he saw that the secret which he had endeavored to
keep from her must be told, so he said quietly:

“ No, Janette, they are not wolves, for see, there
are three of the brutes."

" There is danger for us ahead. for they are
hounds!” she cried. in alarm—“bloodhounds I“

“Yes. the are hounds, and upon our trail."

“ And their masters?” . “

“Are back on the prairie, coming on at full speed.

“ And who are they?" ”

“The Red Angels, Janette; but do not fear them,
and his manner was so deliberate, as he drew a re-
volver from his belt, that Janette exclaimed:

‘ Oh, how can you be so calm before such fearful
danger? For God’s sake let us fly !” . ‘

He turned at her appeal, raised her in his arms,
and placed he; in he; saddle.

But a sin 3 ecrie :

“ Oh,gsir, mount and fly, or those bloodhounds
will tear you to pieces; and —see! yonder come
our worst foes, the Red Angels!" and she pomted
through the timber to where the horsemen were

Then, louder than before:

 

visible about a quarter of a mile distant and coming
on at full speed, after the bounds.

The ferocious brutes, gwith mouths open and
tongues hanging out, were now within a few rods,
coming on the scent, silent and swift, seemingly sure
of their prey.

Almost fascinated by their silent trailing, Janette
sat motionless upon her horse, which now, with the
other two animals, catching sight of the swiftly-
coming bloodhounds, began to s ow a spirit of rest-
iveness, as though anxious to dash away in flight.

Perfectly calm stood the Doctor Scout, his eyes
fixed upon the hounds, and his revolver cocked in
his right hand, while he held the reins of the three
horses with his left.

Had he shown some excitement, some degree of
haste, Janette would have found it a relief; but his
perfect calmness, his impassihle face, made her al-
most dread that he did not realize his danger, and
with staring eyes she watched him.

Nearer and nearer came the hounds, and the one
in the lead was not thirty feet away when the re-
volver was suddenly thrust forward and the sharp
report followed. ,

he wind drove the puff of smoke directly into
J anette’s face, and while thus blinded she heard two
more shots in rapid succession.

Then the smoke drifted away, and she beheld the
three bloodhounds quivering upon the ground and
heard the deep voice of her preserver say:

“ Now, Janette, we will cross the river, and the
rapid gallop we must take will give us an appetite
for breakfast.”

As he spoke, Frank Powell sprung into his saddle
and led the way down the river-bank, just as a wild
yell came from the Red Angels as they dashed into
the edge of the timber and beheld their intended
victims.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
THE FLIGHT.

AFTER the bitter experience she had had with the
outlaws of the prairie, Janette was more than
anxious to press on, for the glance she had at the
coming horsemen showed her that they numbered
fully half-a-score.

The imperturbable manner of her protector at
first fretted her, for he checked her ardor, and with
a pleasant smile said:

‘ We have plenty of time, Janette—no need to
hurry.”

“ No need to hurry with those bloodhounds on our
track?" she ejaculated, almost indignantly.

“ I killed the bloodhounds, Janette.”

“I mean the human bloodhounds, for they have
no less mercy than the brutes."

“ True, but their horses are tired with a long
run and ours are fresh, so that we can gallop away
from them.“

“ I never thought of that, sir," and Janette began
to feel more and more impressed by the remarkable
man at her side.

She had seen him dash up to the rescue of herself
and ’father with the odds three against him: she had
witnessed his deadly shot at the man who resisted
being bound by her, and then had seen him draw
the three bloodhounds in quick succession, while in
all he had neither seemed in haste, nor in the least
degree m0ved by the dangers about him.

Now he showed to her that he held no fear of
their foes. ten to one though they were. and she at
once conquered all nervousness and without trepi-
dation gazed back at the coming horsemen.

"Come, Janette, we must sw1m the river, or the
Red Angels will be u on us.“ said Powell, and he
rode into the water. to lowed by the led horse. while
Janette dashed into the stream after the Doctor
Scout.

Once across, on the other shore, they could see

 

that their pursuers had reached the dead blood-
hounds and had momentarily halted there.

At this Doctor Powell also drew rein and surveyed
the Party through his little field-glass.

“ see there our two prisoners of last night, Ja-
nette, so that accounts for this pursuit.”

“ Oh! if they only had not escaped l” murmured
the girl.

“ Well, some time they will be caught for the last

time. Here, take the. glass and look at the man on
the black horse. He is just moving on after us once
more.’

“ I see him. He is dressed in black and wears a
red mask," said Janette, looking through the glass
now with the utmost deliberateuess.

“ That is the arch-angel,” explained Powell with a

smile.

“ I do not understand you, sir.”

“Well, he is the one who first won the name of
the Red Angel.”

“ Indeed! It is the chief, then?"

" Yes, Captain Kit, or Ca itain Hyena, for he is
called both, as also the Re Angel. He began'his
life as a Gentlemen of the Road, a year ago in
Kansas, where he, single-handed, was wont to stop
the Overland stage-coaches. and rob the passengers,
killing any who resisted. But we will ride on, and I
will tell you more of the outlaw chief as we go
along,” and Powell resumed, as their horses gal-
loped along side by side:

‘He was called the Red Angel first from the fact
that his mask was a pair of crimson wings, real
birds’ wings, d ed, and they were so arranged as to
wholly concea his face, his eyes peering through
two holes in the feathers.

“As they made it too warm for him in Kansas,
after a while he came here to the upper trails, gather~
ed around him a. band of cut-throats, and now has a
score or more that are a terror to the count , for
they have eluded even our best scouts and picked
soldiers sent after them."

“ Has he no haunts to which you can drive him ?"

“If so we have never found them, for he seems to
live on the Erairie wholly, and rumor on the lains
has it that e buries his treasure in certain p aces,
determined to come and get it after he has accumu-
lated a certain sum." ,

“He is a most mysterious man, indeed,” said
Janette, with deep interest at all she had heard re-
garding the Hyena Captain, as the outlaw chief was
often called on account of his cruelties.

“Yes, and it was to solve the mystery regarding
him that I was away from the fort, when I so oppor-
tunely came upon you, for I love adventure and
danger. and it is because I often take long scouts
upon the prairie alone that they give me at the fort
the name of the Doctor Scout. But .see! they have
halted at the river, as though they see it is useless to
pursue us further.”

“ Thank Heaven for that,” fervently said Janette,
as she saw that the Red Angels had indeed halted in
the timber and were dismounting from their horses,
as though having given up the chase.

 

CHAPTER IX.
THE CAMP IN THE TIMBER.

Tm: two prisoners. whom Doctor Powell had so
securely bound to their horses, were cunning vil-
lains, and they realized fully, if taken to the fort by
their captor, that their lives would come to a speedy
termination, for already they were branded as out-
laws and under sentence of death for their crimes.

Seeing the touching scene before them, when the
emigrant was dying, they very naturally concluded
that they were for the moment forgotten.

They sat upon their horses, some thirty feet from
Powell, and one whispered to the other:

“It is our only chance, pard.”

 

“Neck or nothin’, so go in ter win ef yer hes a
idee,” was the response.

The other bent over in the saddle until his teeth
touched the bridle reins, and drawing upon one, he
gently urged his horse to turn and move. away.

His example was followed b his companion, and
the two animals walked slow y across the prairie,
making no sound upon the grass, and unnoticed by
Powell and the girl, so deeply were they occupied.

Once they had reached a safe distance, the two
villains urged their horses into a gallop, and they
had a goo start before their escape was observed.

Giving their horses rein, for in fact, bound as they
were, they could do nothing else, they went at a
sweeping gallop over the prairie, until in the moon-
light they discovered a moving mass ahead.

The horses snorted in alarm, and made a circuit
to avoid what lay before them in their path.

“ It is Buster Ben’s body, pard, an’ ther coyotes is
jist a enj’yin’ him,” explained one.

“Yas, it are Ben, fer here are about whar thet
Doc salted him An‘ we w‘u‘d hev been in a like fix
ef we hed not levanted, fer thet sawbones are a ter-
ror on wheels ”

“Yer is right, be are, an’ ther Red Angel chief hes
got ter mark down two gerloots ag‘in‘ him this heur
night, for he hes reduced ther force by thet flgger."

“He hev, fer a fact, an’ durned ef I don't wish
he’d stick ter doctorin’ up at ther fort, fer ther pills
he gives ter us pilgrims Is suddint death, or I pre-
varicates ther truth."

“ Yas, one 0’ his pills does ther biz; but which way
is we ter go. pard? ’

“I guesses ther horses is takin‘ us right, fer it are
my desire ter catch on with ther boys an’ git this
rope‘overcoat tuk 03 what thet Devil Doctor give
me.

“Yas, mine fits me oncommon tight; it kinder
binds me so as I hasn’t ther full use 0’ my arms;
but gay‘3 pard, hain’t thet a glimmer o‘ a camp-fire
yon er.‘

“ Yas, an’ it are in ther timber we calls ther Emi-
grant Park.”

t‘  ‘9

“ Does yer think it kin be ther boys?"

“ I guess so; but of it liain’t, we is going thar, fer
these durned animiles hes got the‘r necks stretched
fer thet fire, you kin bet.”

“I’m agreein’ with yer~ Whoa! ho! I says ter
yer!" and the two villains now began to call to their

orses to stop them.

But they could not check their ait, and, in fact,
their cries started the animals off alarm, and they
went dashing away at their full speed for the dis-
tant camp fire.

The horses saw rest there for the night, and were
not to be disappointed. for their instinct told them
that their riders Were powerless to check them.

The riders held hope that the camp-fire was that
of their friends, whom they had reason to believe
were somewhere in that locality.

But, should it be the camp of a scouting-party
from the fort, or an emigrant train, with some
guide along with it that knew them, they were well
aware that their hours on earth were numbered.

With every effort, therefore, the endeavored to
check their horses, and failing in t is, to free their
hands and legs.

But the man who had tied them knew his business,
and they were wholly unable to free themselves.

As they drew nearer to the timber, in which was
now visible a large camp-fire, the sweat broke out
u on their foreheads, and they became fearftu
a armed.

“‘ What areit. pard i” asked one.

“I hain‘t able ter guess, but I does hope that it
are our own men. " was the anSWer.

And on the two horses sped, right up to the tim-
ber, and unheeding a ringing challenge to halt from

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

  
   
   

 

 

 
 

 

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aguard in the edge of the thicket, they were fired
u on several times in re. id succession.

own went one of the orses, while loud rung the
cries from the two men to cease firing, for they were
friends.

The challenge of the guard aid the shots were
followed by the ringing notes of a bugle up in the
timber and almost instantly a number of horsemen
came dashing to the spot, their revolvers in their
hands. . a

" Ho, guard, what is this alarm? called out a deep
voice. '

“Two of our band, ca
their horses was in fu

’n, have come, sir; but, as
run, and I could not see

that the boys was tied, I Opened on ’em with my six

and dropped one o'the‘r animiles," said the guard,
in explanation.

“ Who are you?" and the man addressed as cap-
tain rode to 'where the guard was untyin one of the
men from “his dead horse. while the ot er animal
and his rider had been halted near. ‘ . '

“ We is what is leftyo’four o' yer pilgrims, cap n,
seein’ thet Blister Ben ah’ Buck accepted a mute ter
hand in the'r chi ' " .

“Ah, Sam sud? halt; ist you, is it?" called out the
ca tain, race in t e wo men. .

31!; are mg‘mrzemiins, ca’p’n, fer I hain‘t myself,
' I)

‘1 Bound hand and foot, as I live, and your two
comrades that went with you dead, you say 2"

“ Yas. cap'n. . . _

“ And one man and a girl did this?" said the chief,
Vrith a sneer. ,

" Yas, pard cap‘n, it were done by one man an a
al.“

“ Bahl you were cowards to let that oldemigrant
and his dau hter get the best of you in this way._ I
certainly be ieved that you four could on )lure him,
and, as ou didn't, I only wish that he ad killed
you, too, ' and the chief turned and rode back to the
camp-fire in the timber, where he had been enjoying
his supper when warned by the shots of the guar
that t ere was something wrong. .

 

CHAPTER X.
CAPTAIN xrr, THE RED ANGEL.

As he dismounted from his horse at the bivouac
fire, the chief threw his bridle—rein to a huge negro
who advanced to take the animal, and said:

“Brick, it was a false alarm, so let me have my
sup er." .

“ as, massa," answered the negro, and staking
the horse out he returned with the cooking utensus
and provisions he had hastily gathered together at
the alarm, and began again to prepare supper.

A hundred yards distant were several other camp-
fires, and to these the men of the band returned, ac-
companied by their two comrades whose strange
rush into the night camp had called all so quickly to
arms.

There were fully a. score of men gathered about
the several fires, and a wild-looking, desperate set
they were, armed to the teeth, and ressed i_n buck-
skin hunting~shirts and leather leggings, while their
heads were surmounted by huge black sombreros.

Their faces were heavily bearded, and w1thout_an
exce )tion were cruel and villainous in expressmn
and eatui‘e. while all of them wore their hair long.

Staked out to feed not far distant, and with a man
standing guard over them, were fully half a hun-
dred horses, half of which were pack-animals, tor
the packs were then lying near the fires.

It was a wild, but picturesque group, and the man
who lived apart at his own camp-fire, with his huge
negro servant to do his bidding, was the leading
spirit of the band. .

Spreading upon the ground a handsome MchCaIl
serape, ihe chief use a saddle for a pillow, and
threw himself down at full length, his feet to the

fire.

Taking cigar from a handsome case, he put it
between lips, while Brick brought him a coal of
fire to lig it by.

The man as ' i lay there was a remarkable-looking

ersonage. He was dressed in black. the cloth be-
mg of the inest broadcloth, cut to fit him in a style
a city dandy might envy. His boots came far
above his knees, were ‘sha ely, and armed with
gold spurs. He wore a Wiite flannel shirt, with
embroidered front, and under the collar was a black-
silk scarf in which glittered a diamond of rare
beauty and great value.

About his slender waist was an ofiicer's belt and
sash. and he carried a revolver upon either hip, and
a knife in a scabbard fastened to the shoulder-band
that sup orted the belt.

Thus ocated, right across his breast, the knife
was ready for an instant‘s grip.

The mar was of handsome form, slender, grace-
ful, yet his physique denoted strength above the
average. His hair was a mass of golden curls,
hanging half-way down his back. and his head was
sheltered by a black sombrero encircled by a gold
cord, and with a small pair of red wings looping up
the flap in front.

But the strangest of all about this remarkable
personage was that he wore a mask. It was not a

mask such as one sees at a ta! masque, but a pair of

crimson wings I

They were fastened together just above his mouth,
the tips running up above the crown of his hat, and
being bent backward, they concealed his entire
face to the ears, excepting is mouth and chin—the
former being half-hidden by a long, silken blonde
mustache.

In the wings were holes through which gleamed a
pair of bright eyes that appeared to be black, as

hey glittered in the firclight.

Upon his hands were a pair of black kid riding-

gloves, and the little finger of the left hand sported

an elegant solitaire diamond, worn over the kid, and

which danced like an evil eye in the firelight.‘

A massive gold chain encircled his neck, and he
impatiently took out a gold watch of rare workman-

ship} and said:

t is getting late, Brick, and I am very hungry.’

“ Yas, massa, I hab de supper fer you now, sa

and the negro took from a pack-saddle a small fold-
ing-table and chair, and soon spread a tem ting
camp meal before his strange chief, who t rew
away his cigar and rising. devoted himself to the

task of eating with an evident relish.

CHAPTER XI.
THE OUTLAWS TAKE THE TRAIL.

 

As Captain Hyena, as his men always called him
in whispers. when he was in a temper, finished his
suppler, his eyes fell upon two of the band approach-

ing im.

He recognized them as the two who had created
the alarm by dashing into camp, but as they halted
near him and saluted he made no sign of seeing

them, but rose and cal ed out:
“ Brick, bring the hounds for their sup er."

The negro stepped back in the tim er, a few
paces, and soon returned, leading by chains six mas-

sive and ferocious-looking Cuban bloodhounds.

The brutes growled savagely as they drew near,
but noticing their chief they gave a sullen sign of
recognition, and accepted the food, thrown from his
hands, with greed, though not with apparent grati-

tude.
“ Well, what have you to say?” and the Red An-
gel turned to the two men, as Brick led the hounds

back and fastened them.
“ We wants ter tell yer. cap‘n, ’bout our chase o

ther gal an‘ her father," said Slick Sam, or Sam

Slick, for he was called by both names.

"' There seems little to tell, for I sent you, and two
others, believing I could trust you, to bring back
the emigrant and his daughter, and 10! back you
two cowards come, bound hand and foot, while your

comrades were killed, and those I wanted escaped
Is not this all you have to tell?”

“ No, cap’n, not by a horn full!"

“ Well, what else is there to say? Out with itl"

“You hain’t on ther right trail, cap’n, an’ we
wishes ter set yer squar’, so as yer won't misjedge

s.
“ Out with it, I repeat."

“ Yer see, sir arter you seen them as you wanted
hed escaped, an’ sent us four arter

in partickiler
‘em, we jist went along as rapid as we c’u‘d, an
soon struck ther trail, an‘ follered it lively.

“ Waal, sir, toward arternoon, right upon us
over a divide o’ ther pararee, rode ther old man an
ther gal.

“ We was tuk aback. but, as he begun shootin’
one 0' us shooted back—"

“Ha! after my orders not to harm them you

dared fire 7"
“ Yer see, cap'n—"

“ Which one of you fired at them 2” and the angry
light in the eyes of the chief caused Slick Sam to

say. quickly:
‘ It war uster Ben as did it, cap'n."
“ Curse him I But go on with your story.”

“ Waal, sir, arter Buster fired, they turned and
run, an’ we went fer ’em for all we was wu‘th. They
was mounted well, an’ the‘r bosses was com arative
eld on
ontil we struck a s iigle trail, an’ Buster tuk off on

fresh. so they dro ped us clean; but we

it, while we pushed ahead arter therold man an
3 is (lai'toi‘.

" Wan], cap'n, we got throwcd off ther trail when

dark come. but we heerd a shot an‘ went thet way

and tliar we found ther old man on his back about
ter pass in his chips, an’ ther go] by his side, while
they was surrounded by coyotes thet was about to

run in on ’viii when we rid up.”

“The emigrant was (lying, you say?"
“ Yas, cap‘
went ontil i
down ter turn up his toes."

“ And he died?"askcd the chief, in a low, deep

tone.

"Uzip‘ii, do you mind that tliot lootlo gal Illl‘llf‘(
on .1.- an‘ shed ‘a’ bored us “f we. hadn‘t kept or?“

" (Vi/raids.”

“ l. ;‘:.il kit:
o..:,. -. mi n: we llellr‘V-‘ll. Bust 1‘ coming up.

 

ful‘ illlll' crime buster-‘5 horse. «ml;

l
when he drew up by us, it wasn’t our pard as was

n. fer Buster‘s shot hed hit him, an' be
e c u'd not go no further, an‘ then laid

kill. oup'n. nn‘ so we jist hung back

 l is goin‘ li-r loll yer how noble we

on him.“
" v» be in Satan’s name was it, then f" '
“ Ther man ther Injuns calls ther Wizard Doc-
tor.” »
“Bv Heaven! Frank Powell, the Doctor Scout!"
and the chief sprung to his feet.
“ Yas, cap’n, it were him, an’ he were on ther ram-
page wuss’n a wolf, fer he hed us kivered and gave
us a invite ter hands up, which we is free to admit we
accepted, seein' as who it were.” _
“Go on i" sternly ordered the chief, as the man
paused.

" Waal. cap‘n, in course he tuk ther gaJ’s part.
and jist told her for rope uswhile he kept us cov-

ered. .

“She begun ther work, when Buck kicked ag'in’
it, an’ of he bed time ter know What kilt him I is
a weepin' liar."

“ The Doctor killed him 7”

“Shot him thr0ugh ther brain, cap’n, an' asked
us ef we’d take a pill in ourn?

“ We stated as how we wasn’t sickly, an' ther gal
roped us. I

" Then ther Doc tied us as yer seen us come inter
camp—told us he hed kilt Buster, an‘ s’pected ter
be at our passih’ away with a r0pe about our
necks."

“And he may be, too," remarked the chief, with
a laugh.

"I‘m a-hopin’ I won’t be thar, ef he is."

“ Well, to your story.”

“Thar hain‘t much more ter tell, cap’n. for ther
Doc were called ter look art r ther old man, an' they
was all so tuk up with what he war a~sayin thet i_i_iy
pard an‘ me jist concluded ter light out, an' we JISI
did it on ther quiet like." .
“This is a Strange story you tell me, men, and I
am glad to know it, for I shall at once break camp
and go in pursuit of the girl and that famous Doc-
tor Scout, who, I learn. is determined to take my
scalp. Sound boots and saddles, Brick, and we’ I
take the trail. " - .
In obedience, the negro took from a tree, where it
was hanging, a small silver bu le, and the notes
rung in many an echo throng the timber and
roused the outlaws to busy action.

In less than ten minutes the command was ready
to move, and giving his orders to the negro, to o to
a certain rendezvous with half of the men an the
pack-horses, the chief and half a score of the band,
with three bloodhounds tied to his stirrup. started
off, under the guidance of Slick Sam, to the spot
where he and his comrade had left the dying emi-
grant.

 

CHAPTER XH.
BETWEEN TWO FIRES.
HAVING introduced more particularl to the reader
the Red Angel band of outlaws, I wi I bring to his
mind the fact that, in their pursuit of the Doctor
Scout and Janette, they were observed to halt at. the
stream and then dismount, as though having given
up the chase.
Unconscious of their real motive Doctor Powell
rode on with Janette, heading northward.
The prairie to the northward of the stream was
lo er than beyond it on the other side, and far more
rolling and broken, while one in the timber. where
the outlaws were, could see far ahead of the out-
look of the Doctor Scout.
It had been by no means the intention of the Red
Angel chief togive up the chase of the fugitives;
but, just as he was about to leave the timber and
cross the stream, his quick eye fell upon something
that riveted his gaze to a point a mile beyond the
Doctor.
That “ something ” he gazed at fixedly for a while,
and then muttered:
“Sioux l"
“ Yas, cap’n, an‘ thar is half a hundred of ’em,”
joined in Slick Sam.
“ Dismount, men, and seek the shelter of the tim-
ber, for we have not been discovered yet.”
In obedience to the command of their leader the
men quickly dismounted and hunted cover, while
Captain Kit, as he was familiarly called by his band,
took a field-glass from its case and turned it upon
the Indians.
They were fully a mile and a half distant from the
timber, and just coming over a roll in the prairie,
stretched out in a scattered line.
“Fully sixty in number, and the Doctor Scout does
not see them, nor do they see him, and they will ride
almost upon each other before they make the dis-
covery.
“ And what then?" said the chief, speaking aloud,
But to himself, for his men were a little apart from
im.
With considerable interest he noticed the Doctor
Scout riding leisurely along toward the rise in the
prairie before him that hid the Indians from his
view, while they little dreaming of foes near, were
coming toward the stream.
The nature of the ground on either side of the
Doctor Scout was such that the Red An els sawthat
he could not turn either to the right or eft, if he re-
traced his way upon seeing the Indians, without
coming back to within a few rods of the stream.
There the land was unbroken, and he could fly up
or down the stream; but to gain this point he would
have to come within easy range of the outlaws in
the timber.
“ With the Indians before you, and the Red Angels
behind you, my gallant Wizard Doctor, you are be
tween two fires, one of which must burn you, for,
with all your skill as a Iainsman, your fame as a
reckless rider and dea shot. you have no escape
and have coolly run into a tra ,” and the chief kept
his eyes upon the receding ugitives as he spoke,
occasionally turning his glass upon the coming war-
riors. “NO' no one can run over that land to the
right and left of him and he has either to come back
here, or attempt to cut through the Indians’ line.
Which will he do? I hope he will come this way,
for, at all hazards, I must capture that girl, so I
will dash out to his rescue—yes, rescue him from
the red-skins to have him die as I wish him to die.”
“ After a silence of a few moments, he continued:
“Those Indians are well-mounted and armed, and
it will be no easy thin for us to beat them back:
but then yve have the timber and this bend in the
river in our favor and these give us a great advan-
tage. But, whatever the odds, I will risk them to
capture that girl.” A
After a few more minutes of silence the chief
called out in a voice that reached the ears of his
followers from their shelter:
“ Men, look to your arms and your saddle-girths,
for if that man runs back u on us we must take
him and the girl, and if the ndians capture them
we must rescue them. Remember, the Doctor Scout
and girl are not to be hurt under any circum-
stances.”
A chorus of voices answered that they heard his
orders, and having looked to his own weapons and
horse, the chief again turned to gaze at the Doctor
Scout and his charge.
“I wish to have my glass on him when he sees the
Indians,” lie muttered.
The red-skins were now ascending the slight ele-
vation upon one side, and had contracted their line,
on account of the broken nature of the ground and
were riding more in single file, while Frank Powell,
with Janette by his side and the led horse trotting
along behind, was almost to the top of the gently-
sloping hill.
A few more aces and suddenly a shout of warn-
ing went up rom an Indian throat and the whole
body huddled quickly toward the to of the hill.
It was evident that the Doctor cout had been
taken by surprise, not expecting to see Indians just
t ere.
. He had caught sight of the feather head-dress of
the chief, who was leading, just as the red-skins’
eyes fell upon him, and he had quietly drawn rein
without the slightest show of excitement and said
calmly:
“ \\ e are between two flres, Janette.”
“Oh, we are lost!" cried the girl, as she saw a
number of Indians dashing into view.
“ No, indeed. we are are only in a tight place.
"Come! we must go back.”
' “ Back into those vile outlaws' power?” she asked
with intense surprise.
, “ Not if we can help doing so; but I need not dis-
’ guise from you that our danger is great, and we
must take the chances most in our favor to escape.
, “ See, the Indians are preparing for a rush upon
us, so we must run for it. as soon as I have given
them a hint not to crowd us.”
She saw him raise his rifle quickl to his shoulder,
and with the. re lOI't a warrior fell rom his pony,

heels of his mates

could fully realize all.
' glance about him showed
. not cressing the river to keep up the chase.

The Indians, Powell was also

of their comrade at the Doctor Scout’s hands.

from the dangers that now surrounded them.

1 But she held failli in his powers and kept up her

nerve. While she quietly asked:
“ Yes. they are there."

here?"

“ Now, come, ’ an d the Doctor Scout, in tones ut-
terly unmoved, and away they dashed back toward
the timber, the led horse following close onn the

That they were between two fires, in fact, in a
desperate s tuation, Frank Powell made no effort to
conceal from the young girl, for he felt that she

That the Red Angels were not visible in the tim-
ber he knew was no sign that they had gone, and a
luinly the nature of the
ground, and he was aware l cy had seen the Indians
a long way off. and that this had accounted for their

aware, had not
caught sight of the outlaws, and they little dreamed
that foes were concealed in the timber as they came
dashing along in full pursuit of the fugitives, yelling
like demons, maddoned as they were by the death

Straight. toward the timber Frank Powell held his

way. Janette riding by his side. and wondering how
the during man could extricate himself and her

“ Do you not think the outlaws are in the timber?"

“And can we not turn off to the right or left

either side are impassaLle, and we wi‘l i ot be able
to turn off until We get within a hundred yards of
the river." _
" And then, sir?"
“Then we can go down the river-bank.”
“ But the outlaws?"
“ They will dOUbIIeSF attempt to check us, but we
must dash through them; but let me tell you
now, Janette, should any accident befall me, you
keep ri ht on down the stream.”
"An desert you?” _
“Oh, don’t mind me, but think of your own fate,
for if I should fall, your remaining would not help
me. while on would be lost. -
“ Do as tell you, keep right on down the river for
some miles and you will come to a well-defined trail
leadinfinorthward. -

“ o ow that and it will bring you to a ranch
where livesm friend.
“Tell him t at I sent you, and let him know your
story, and you will find a home
"But we must ride faster, for the red-skins are
gaining.” _
The'y quickened the pace of their horses. which
were not at their top speed, and in a few more mo—
ments would have reached the plain where they
could turn OK, when suddenly, out of the timber.
right- into the stream to cut them off dashed Red
Angel and his men.
“Janette, now comes the death-struggle, for the
Sioux are close on our heels and Captain Hyena.
yonder, wants us, too," said the Wizard Doctor, as
he drew a revolw-rin either hand and rode straight
toward the outlaw band.
(To be cottinued—commenced iv No. 67.)

 

SELF-RIGHTEOUS.

BY ERKINIE C. STRAY.

 

 

Mrs. H— was a woman, very grand,
Who never knew sin or guile:
She was alwa 's smiling and wonderfully bland,
And dressed in the hight of style.
She dressed in satins, and lustrous silks,
And jewels and laces rare.
With many frizzes, and braids, and curls
On the top of her head, for hair.

’Twas a sin to go to the opera-house
And list to the music sweet,

And she never looked at a wretched tramp
Or gave him a mouthful to eat;

But she worked for the heathen in foreign land,
And subscribed to the popular fund,

And if on had asked her to lend to the Lord,
Mrs. -—-— would have been dreadfully stunned.

She peeps through the blinds. at passei s-by,
And comments on the grave and the gay—-
“ Miss Dane is a stingy old thing,” she knows,
And she’s sus icious of poor Miss Fay,
Who has no rig t to look like a lady quite,
With her leasant manners and winning ways;
To her min there's something not right,
In a poor girl, who reads and sings and plays.

And Mrs. H—— is a sort of an oracle, here,
For village damsels and dames to know,
And before Miss Fay is aware,'her name
Is tattered to shreds, and rags of woe.
Why people scorn and pass her by
She does not even guess, poor thing!
That the charitable hand of Mrs. H——-
It was that dealt this bitter sting.

Mrs. H—— is always in her ew at church,
And groans when the minister prays,
And switches her silken robes aSIde
At the approach of those low-born Fays;
And with a pious air, and sanctified face,
She bears the name of a “ saint ” in town
And no one knows if the scales were ti pe ,
Whether Mrs. H-—— would go up or own.

. I Kale Stall,
The Decoy Detective;

 

 

Joe Phenix’s sun Hunt.

A Romance of the Upper Crust and Lower Crust
of New York Life.

BY ALBERT w. AIKEN,

AUTHOR or “ THE BAT on THE BATTERY. ” “ THE
DEMON DETECTIVE,” “RED RICHARD,” ETC.

CHAPTER XI.
TEE SPIDER CAPTAIN.

As the ruflians had anticipated the overtaking
of the horse was net a difficult matter. v
The animal had not the slightest intention of
running away.
He was far too well trained and entirely too
lazy to do anything of the kind. He was mere-
ly hastening along, homeward bound, at, his
usual jog-trot. . '
And when he heard the men running after
him—they did not dare to shout to the beast
for fear of calling the attention of any one who
might be in the neighborhood to their move-
ments—the animal kept on just the same, nei-
ther increasing his speed or relaxing it, so they
were forced to chase him some hundreds of
yards before they succeeded in capturing him.
Stingy Bill was proceeding to swear at the
,brute for the trouble he had caused, but Four
Kings, who was by far the shrewder of the two,
stop d him. ‘
“ h, come, shut up l” he said. “ It won’t do
any good to curse the horsc. He don’t know
any Better, and it serves us right for not tying
1m.
“ I’d like to kick the stuflin’ out of him,
though!” Stingy Bill cried, viciously, as the two
retraced their steps to the barn. ,
This time the were careful to tie the beast
so that he coul not repeat the trick if he felt
disposed to be ugly.
“ Mighty nasty trick, I tell you,” said Stingy
Bill. “If any country chumps had happened
to come along and noticed the muss they might
be curious as to what we was a—doing in this
neighborhood, ’cos they would have spotted us
for strangers instanter.” .
“ It would have-been ugly; you can bet high
on that,” Four Kings remarked; “but luck is
with us to-night, for nary a soul has been
slang. But let’s hurry up and get through the
o . ‘
Then the two re-entered the barn.
The girl had been careful to replace the lid of
the box so that everything looked exactly as it
was when they had left.
So it was without the slightest suspicion of
the discovery that awaited them that the two
jerked off the lid of the box and peered into the
em ty receptacle.
‘ Blazes!” exclaimed Four Kings.
“ Durn me for a sucker!" cried the other.
And then the two stared ateach other for a
moment in silent wonder.
They Were stupefied by this unexpected dis-
covery.
“ What in thunder does this mean f" Four
Kin s exclaimed at last. v
“ ell, I’ll never tell you, as they say in Ken-
tucky.” replied Stingy Bill.
“ Can the old man have come to life and

the natural in iiiry of the other.
“ Durn mei it don’t look like it.”

been dead for three days, and he was cold and
still? when we put him into the box.” '
“ That’s so—stifl? as a red herring.”
But in spite of these emphatic declarations,

corner of the barn.

the matter as he pretended.
“Of course!
There couldn’t be any mistake about that.”
“Yes. it seems to me as if we certain] put
about the matter?”
“ Mistake how?”

didn’t.”

and tilted the case on one side.

 

. "No. Janette, for those ravines that you we on

 

l
swear that the cloth yvvas in the btx, whether
the body was or not.”
being on a contrary turn of mind, took it into
his head that it was almost as heavy as it was
when they carried it int 0 the barn.

weight,” he remarked.

walked'olf while we were after the horse?” was

“ Oh, but the idea is ridiculous: the man has

the two glared about them as though they ex-
pected to see the old man lurking in some dark

“ I say, Four Kings. he was in the box safe
enough, wasn’t he!” Stingy Bill observed, du-
biously, as though he was not so certain about

Didn’t we put him in ourselves?
him in: but I say, suppose we made a mistake

“We might have thought we put him in and

“Oh, I’m sure we put him in: besides, lift
the box,” and Four Kings took hold of an end
I _ ‘ “ Can’t you see
ti at it isn t near as heavy as it was when we

     

Slingy Bill tried the weight of the box, and

“ I don’t see that there is any difference in the

“The blazes you don’t!” cried Four Kings,
enraged at the stupidity of his companion.
“Nary time!”

“Well, all I’ve got to say is that I wouldn’t
give much for your judgment,” retorted the
other. “To my thinking there’s a big difler—
enca.”

“ Mebbe there is, but I don’t see it.”

“ One thing is sure: the stiff ain’t here now,
whether he was or not.”

“ There ain’t any doubt ’bout that.” _
“ And the quicker we get back to the captain
and let him set his thinking-machine to Work on
this puzzle the better.”

Stingy Bill shook his head in a doubtful sort
of way.

"' Hadn‘t we better keep it dark?” he asked.
“ The captain is a reg’lar tornado when he gets
going, and I reckon he’ll be mad cnufl' to cut us
up, body and boots, when he comes to know the
rights of the business.”

“ The captain is a good, square man, though.
if you don’t try to play any games on him, but
if you do. then you had better Leep your eyes
peeled.” Four Kings replied, slow ly and With an
air of great deliberation.

“ Now I ain’t a-giing to get the captain arler
me if I know myself, and I think 1 do. I don’l
see as we have done anything wrong and I’m
going to report the thing jest as it is.”

“He’ll blow the hull top of our heads off,”
Stingy Bill grumbled.

“ If you’re skeered and think you’re going to
get in over your head, you had better swim
out,” Four Kings suggested. “ But one thing I
can tell you, and that is, you‘ll have to make
good time and put considerable ground between
yourself and this ’ere section for to get out of
the captain’s reach.

“ He’s got a mighty long pair of arms when
he’s reaching for a man that he’s got a grudge
against.”

“ Oh, I was only talking for the sake of hear-
ing myself talk,” replied Bill, evidently alarm-
ed by Four Kings’s ominous words.

“ I ain’t afeared but what the captain will do
us justice.”

“Let’s travel then; lend a hand with the
box.”

The two carried the box to the wagon, then
got into it and drove to the house from whence
they had come at the best speed of which the
horse was capable.

Leaving the vehicle and horse in the stable
they hurried into the house, using the secret
passage leading in to the cellar.

It did not take them long to discover the
body of the old man and of course, when they
found it, they immediately understood what
had happened.

Or, atleast, Four Kings made a shrewd guess
at the mystery, for to solve any such puzz'e
was altogether too much for Stingy Bill’s dull
brains.

“I see how the trick was worked 1” Four
Kings (xclaimed. “ While we went for the
tools some one who was hiding here in the cel-
lar, took the body out of the box and got into
it. Then while we were chasing the horse, he
sli ped out of the barn.”

newvlight suddenly broke upon Stingy Bill.
“ You're right. Four Kings, jest as sure as
you are standing in soleleatherl” he exclaimed.
“ And that is jest where my revolver went.
The fellow lifted it, ’cos I’m certain I left it
here when we went into the stable.”

“I reckoned you, was a little of! our base,
Bill,” Four Kings observed, “but Iv see now
that you was right about it.”

“ W’ot’s to be do. of” ,

“Notify the captain at. once.”

Then Four K'ngs went to the wall just at the
foot of the ('ellzl' stairs and whistled through a
speaking-tube which was there.

There was a moment’s wait and then a sharp,
im ei'ative Voice asked: '

‘ What is “if?

“ That’s the captain himself,” Bill remarked.
“Yes, and it’s lucky he’s to the fore.”

Then Four Kings answored through the pipe:
“ Something wrong down here. Can’t you
come down and look into it?”

“ Who’s down there?”

“ Four Kings and Stingy Bill.”

“ All rignt, I'll be. down in a minute.”

“The captain will get to the bottom of the
thing if any man can,” Four Kings remarked,
confidently. to his companion.

And then the two sat down on the stairs side
by side to wait for the master-spirit of the
gang. '

About ten minutes elapsed, and then they.
heard the key grate as it turned in the lock 0f
the door show.

They rose to their feet, and a tall, well-built
man, With every pale face and a short black
beard which covered the lower part of his
countenance almost to the eyes, came dowu the
steps.

He was rather poorly dressed in a dark,
rough suit and wore a soft slouch hat pulled
down over his forehead, almost to the Very
large, bushy, bristling eyebrows which over-
shadowed his piercing black eyes.

Take him for all in all, the Spider Captain,
for so the captain of the band was termed. had
an appearance so remarkable that to one who
had ever had the opportunity to get a good look
at him would ever e apt to forget his strange
looks, though years and years intervened be-
tween the first view and the second.

The lantern upon the floor of the cellar dimly
illuminated the scene.

“Well, boys, what’s broke?" asked the out-
law leader, in a shrill, sharp voice, fully as pe~
culiar as his appearance.

Four Kings took it upon himself to explain
what had occurred, which he did at length. in-
terrupted now and then by a sharp. short “.33.
tion from his chief, and soon the Spider ‘ap-
tain was in possession of all the facts. ‘

CHAPTER XII.
A MURDEROUS DETERMINATION.
HE was puzzled to understand the strange af-
fair, and said as much after Four Kings finished
hlS‘l‘IefilIal. d h b
. on’t on t t at on have ot the i
straight enough,” he adyded. “ Thgere isn‘tflhirilfi
doubt in .my mind that you have hit the truth
and the Job was worked just as you think, but
zvliakt gets me is as to the party that did the
I‘lC .
“ th0 on earth could have been hiding in the
cellifill
. ‘ e_ be it was a detective "su ested St r
Bill, With a nervous glance arounglgas thougillilgl’ii
expected to see a police spy spring out of some
da‘izkI 1cotrner. h
i was, t equicker we at out i .
better,” the captain replied. 8“ But lordgrhi’: tat:
how any sleuth—hound could manage to pene-
trate into the place.
“ Was everything locked and all right when
you entered?‘
Both answered in the aflirmativo.
“ Well, boys, it’s a conundrum, and as I’m
pretty good at that sort of thing I’ll tr to
smell it out, and in the mean time, as I on’t
want to be surprised and taken here like a rat
in a trap, as there’s great danger of, if it was a
detective who playe it on . you so nicely, on
Four Kings,  e a scout out by the front 0 thd
place, and Stingy Bill, put yourself on post in
the rear, and if anything suspicious occurs let
me know immediately.
“ If it was a detective who got away and the
game is to nab us here, it will not be likely that
the_co 3 Will come in force strong enough to
entire y surround the place, so if we are on our
guard we will be able to get out.”
Both of the rudians protested that they
gigiggbe as watchful as foxes, and then do-

After they were gone the captain picked up

 

 

. brought it in? And “here's the cloth too? I‘ll , l .r.

l. ' ‘
the ulnII—I‘II and pri ceeiicd to examine the cel-

“ The first thing is to find out where the fel—

low hid l imself, and that bothers me, for there
don’t tardly seem to be rt om enough here any—

where for a good-sizedcat lostowuimSelf away
without teing (ii-covu‘cd,” he remarked, as he-
stood in the center of the apartmentand glanced
around him. , .

“If some infernal police spy has got on the
scent it will be extremely unfortunate,” he ('on-
tinned, ‘.“i‘or_if the police come dojwn on us it
may lead to the disCOVery of the secret cage and
the pretty bird that I have insnaijed therein,
although it” is not probable that the secret would
be discovered unless some one has a clew to it,
and it does not seem possible that such a thing
could be. '

“Not a single one of the band suspects that
the room exists,,so cunuin Iy‘ is it hidden. and
I should rot the suspects it myself it I hadn’t
stumblul. just by accident, on the passage that
leads to it.

“ No, no, I do not think them is much danger
of that cubby-hole being discovered until the
old house is torn down.

“ By Jove!” the exclamation came rapidly
from his lips.

His c) es had just fallen on the old fire-place
at the exlicmity of the cellar.

" There's a fireplace there; I remember now,
i noticed it when I first examined the collar;
there’s a fluo to the chimney. of course, and if
it is llko‘ the majority of the old—fashioned
houses, it is plenty big enough to shelter a
man.

“ "here’s where the any found concealment,
beyond the shadow of a doubt.”

The captain hastened to examine the chimney,
flushing the lantern into the dark cavity.

” Alia! there are the footprints, sure enough.”
he exclaimed, as he beheld the plainly visible
marks in the thick dust which had collected on
the hearth.

And then another cry of amazement broke
from his lips.

He had made a most unexpected discovery.
The footprints were not those of a man, but
the dainty imprint of a woman’s feet.

“ What does this mean ‘I” he cried, for the dis
covery made the mystery deeper.

Then he directed the rays of the lantern up
the chimney.

As he had expected, there was but a single
big fine, and it afforded ample room for a nu
man to ascend.

Then his eyes fell upon the spikes driVen in
the Wall. ‘

“Hallo, hallo!” he cried; “that looks as if
those had been driven in there so as to make the
ascent of the chimney an easy matter.

“ This old shell is a regular house of Sléi'i‘eis,
for I thought I had explorin it pretty thorough—
Lyi, yet I hadn’t the least su~picion of this vuln-

o.

“ The dust has been rubbed off the spikes,
too,” he continued, as he went on in his exami-
nation, “ and that shows that some one has made
use of them lately. ~
“ I guess I will have to try this novel ladder,
and see whither it leads.”
The purpose was immediately executed.
Thanks to the spikes, the Spider Captain
found it an easy mmter to ascend the chimney.
Up he went, examining the wall carefully as
he progressed, for he expected to find a si-crot
door somewhere, until he came to the spike
which communicated with the machinery (I the
invisible door.
And the moment he put his weight on the
spike, the door into the secret apartment, which
was just on a level with his head, opened.
A cry of rage broke from the lips of the out—
law leader as he loiiked into the. secret chamber,
so carefully hidden away in the middle of the
house, and discovu'cd that the bird had flown.
“The curse of all the fiends. light upon this
unlucky chance i” he cried.
“ What marvelous stroke of fortune rewaled
to the girl the existence of this passe e which I,
who thought I knew all the secrets 0 the house,
never suspected?” .
Then he entered the room and looked around
to see if he could discover aught that wonui he
of service to him.
The hat of the girl was on the table, lint other-
wise lhero was no trace of her.
The Spider Captain looked about the room for
amoment and then knitted his brows (lei-cer
together.
" This girl must die!” he exclaimed. “ She is
not like the other. I thought that like pliant
wax I could mold her to my purpose. but it is
quite evident that for Oboe in my life I have
made a Serious mistake.
. “ Few women have eVer made any particular
impression upon ‘ me, foolish, shallow creaiures
the most of them, not worthy attention.
. “ But this one is dangerous, and she must be
,silenced,_ Her persevering chase of me proves
that, there is a good deal of bloodhound about
her, and in the end, if she is not put out of the
way, she may succeed in doing me serious dam-
age—perhaps succeed in accomplishing more
the; the officers of the law have ever been able
0 o.
“It would only be the old story of David and
Goliath over again. Cunning succeeds where
Strength fails.
:‘Decidedly I must not wait for her to ad-
mipister the blow, but strike the first one my-
sc . -
Then he re-entered the Secret passage and de-
scended to the cellar.
“ Mighty strange that I never even suspected
the existence of this passige,” he muttered, as
he made his way down the shaft, “ and vet the
girl managed to discover it before she had
passed a day in the room.”
The existence of the secret chamber was
known only to the Spider Captain.
He had discovered the long—forgotten apart-
ment by aCCident, and perceived immediater
how useful the knowledge might be to him, and
so had taken particular pains to hide the mat--
ter from the rest of the band.

He understood now how the girl bad man-
aged to make her escape as well as though he
had been a witness to the whole proceeding.

After he had arrived in the cellar he sum-
moned Four Kings and Stingy Bill, and briefly
explained to them the discovery which he had
made, carefully, though, suppressing all men-
tion of the secret apartment.

‘_‘ It was the girl whom you treated to a sur-
prisepurty, boys this evening, that has done
thetrick,” he sai . “I had her in a room up
stairs, and she managed to get out, and in some
way got into the cellar. Then she hid here
somewhere, under the stairs probabl , and look
the place of the still in the box, on when you
left the barn to catch the horse she made her
esca e.

“ t’s an ugly business, but it might be worse,
for as far as can see, she couldn’t tell where
:he] waskunlessfpne of you were careless enough

0 e on some. un ' while on w ' '
fixing the box.” t, y ere talking in

Both of the men immediater fell to thinking.

Effigy B;l-lf\;(%;litlle first to speak.

“HIGH 1 I nk we 5 i ~
at an.” be obberved. a d much of anything

“ 0“. 3’08, we did,” Four Kin added. “ Bill,
here, was curious to know whafiind of a trick
we were up to, and I spit out the hull business,
like a domed fool; there wasn’t a word said
:3?qu the house, but Iblowed the trick with the

‘.‘ That upsets that little game then, and the
quicker we get rid of the body in one of the old
ways the better."

“ ury it or give it to the fishes?” Four Kings
asked.

“ Bury it; let the worms have a feast. As
long as we can’t collar the reward, I don’t. see
any use of putting the money in anybody cls:~‘.~z
way,” the Spider (,liiptuin replied. “ But I will
attend to that. l have other work on hand for
you, and it must be attended to this very
night.”

".All right; we‘re on ill-ck!" li‘our Kings ex
claimed.

“ This girl must be got lit. and silenced, Slu-
kiiovv's too_iiiu(-h now to be :illovwd to lin. ll.»
fore morning dawns she mind. join the limioritv
and cross thi- dark i‘ivor lliul sweeps zill iii our-d
the World.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

vxr— 4 vv

  

CHAPTER XIlI.
CRACKING THE CRIB.

THE Spider Captain was no Common rascal;
the successful mannerin which he had defied all
the efforts of the authorities to capture him
and to break up the criminal league which he
had formed was ample proof of that. ‘

He was well served too. for he had a regular
army of spies, and kept a far closer watch on
the authorities than the chief of police with all
the detectives under his command was able to
do on him.

Some of the private detectives of the city too
were in his pay.

There are many honest and honorable
men in this new line of business, a pro-
uuct of our advanced civilization, and then,
too. some of them are as big rascals as can be
easily found.

Men without the least skill in the business
which they pretend to follow, but possessed of
an uncommon amount. of ability to extract
money from gullible clients without rendering
anv service for the aforesaid.

The Spider Captain had contrived to let these
gentlemen—whose sole idea of the detective
business was to get all the money they could
for as little work as possible—understand that
any information of value would be liberally
rewarded.

And to the firm of private detectiVes most
intimately connecred with the Spider Captain
Kate Scott had applied for assistance when she
had entered upon her persistent search.

The chief of this desperate criminal band was
always careful to cover up his tracks as com—
)lete y as possible, and not to a single soul had
'e confided the fact that he had mesqueraded
as a rich New York blood up in the Catskill
region under the name of Henry Tappan.

But when the girl had entered upon her search
with such ardor the detectives thought it wise
to send word to the Spider Captain in regard to
the matter.

The outlaw leader was not known personally
to the detectives, and in fact, few or his band
were ever honored with a sight of his face, for
by thus keeping in the background be rendered
indentification difficult, and put it out of the
power of any of his tools to betray him to the
authorities.

In all such secret hands it is the traitorous
informer who is most to be dreaded, as the his-
tory of the world amply proves.

The detectives had an idea that the outlaw
chief might know something of this Henry
Tappan, for they felt sure from the account
given by the irl that he was some New York
crook in disguise.

If Tappan was one of the Spider Captain’s
band, he would be glad to know that there was
an inquiry afoot in regard to him, and if he
was not, the Spider Captain, if he knew the man,
might possibly put the detectives on the scent.

The leader of the secret band professed igno-
rance in the matter, but was careful to learn all
the particulars of the affair, and from that time
be caused a watch to be placed upon the girl.

He did not trouble himself much about the
matter in the beginning, because he did not
believe it would amount to anything.

What chance was there for a single weak
irl, alone and friendless, to damage a man like
imself so securely intrenched.

But as days lenghtened into weeks, and weeks
into months, and still she persevered, he awoke
to the consciousness that if she succeeded by
any accident in hitting upon a clew she would
be apt to cause him considerable trouble.

Then, too, he had taken pains to make him-
self acquainted with the girl, and had become
interested in her.

She was alto other different from her sister,
possessing a this and viVacity that was charm-
ing, and the idea came into his mind that she
could be made to rove almost invaluable to
him in his crimina career if he could succeed
in bending her to his will.

The reader knows how signally the outlaw
chief failed in his attempt.

But thanks to the watch he had caused to be
placed upon her, he knew exactly where to find
the fugitive.

His first idea when he discovered that the
girl threatened to prove dangerous was to have
her put out of the way, for the Spider Captain
was a man who thought no more of taking a
human life, if he could profit thereby, than of
killing a worthless dog.

And SO he had caused a careful examination
to be made of the premises where she resided,
in order to ascertain if she could be “ got at”
and put out of the way, in the silent watches of
the night when slumber chained the senses of the
great city’s denizens.

So, when he had come to the conclusion that
the girl must die, the method by which the
deed could be accomplished had already been
decided upon. ‘

Four Kings and Stingy Bill had been the men
selected b the outlaw leader to watch the girl,
and they ad made all reparation to murder
her when the Spider Captain had suddenly
changed his mind and concluded to alter mur-
der into abduction, therefore they were pre-
pared to carry out the original idea.

“ The girl knows too much now to be allowed
to live,” the Spider Captain declared. “ She
has a clew which if diligently followed up, will
be certain to lead to our detection.

“ It is her life or ours, boys, and I don’t know
how you feel about it, but as far as I am con-
cerned, Iprefer to let her take the jump into
eternity rather than try the leap myself.’

“That’s me, every timel” Four Kings ex-
claimed, emphatically.

“ You bet, it’s me, too 1” added Stingy Bill.

“ Go ahead on the old programme, then,” the
leader commanded. “She’s a plucky little imp
and will not have any difficulty in finding her
way home, but you ought to be able to get there
about as soon as she can, for the girl has a long
distance to cover.

“Make a sure thing of the job—don’t half do
it, you know, for that would be a deuced Sight
worse than to let the matter alone.”

“ Don’t be alarmed about that, captain,”
Four Kings replied. “ We’ll do the work up in
firstclass style.” . .

“ Oh, yes; we ain’t no slouchesi” Stingy Bill
protested. _

“Away with you then, for there’s no time to
he lost. The girl will be pretty well played-
out after the adventures she has encountered to-
night and ought to sleep like a top. ”

“ No doubt about that. We ought to do the
job with mighty little trouble, for we laid out
the hull business and know exactly where to go
and what to do,” Four Kings observed. '

“ You kin bet all your wealth on that!” Stin-
gy Bill exclaimed. “The thing is jest as fine
as silk, and we kin send her kiting into the other
world afore she’ll have time to open her mouth
and ive a single peep.”

“ e careful, you know, don’t leave any tell-
tale traces,” the outlaw leader cautioned. “ Let
it be one of those mysterious, bloody deeds
which puzzle the police and shock the public.”

“ Oh, it will be all right; we can get into her
room from the roof of the piazza. There‘s only
a common catch on the window and we can
easily open it with a knife.” .

“ At it at once then, for there isn‘t any time
to be lost!” commanded the chief.

The two set out, after providing themselves
with the proper tools. . .

This business was no new thing for either one
of them, for there were no more experienced
“ cracksmen ” to be found in all the country
than Four Kings and Stingy Bill, as the police
records amply testified. .

As luck would have it the two rufilans arrived
at the house in Fourth avenue. the “ crib”
which they intended to “ crack,” at the very
moment that the girl, their destined Victim,
came up the street. _ ,

The rufiians were upon the opposite Sidewalk,
as they desired to inspect the hopse fully upon
all sides before proceeding to busmess, and they
recognized the girl the moment she came up the
avenue.

“ We’ll have to wait for a couple of hours so
as to give her time to get asleep,” Four Ixmgs
observed. .

Bill immediately expressed his discontent at

   

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this prospect, but the other reproved him by
asking if he expected “to get the earth every
time just for wishing?”

Satisfied from the darkness that reigned
within the house that all the inmates Were
buried in slumber with the exception of the
belated girl, tne two turned into the side-street
and proceeded along it until they came to the
end of the high board fence which protected the
yard of the corner house.

It was an easy matter for the two to scale
the fence and descend into the yard on the
other side, after being careful to ascertain that
there wasn’t any one near enough to observe
the movement.

Once tl-ey were inside of the first yard it was
not a difficult matter for the cracksmen to pro-
gress from yard to yard until they reached the
one which appertained to the house wherein the
girl resided.

At the back of this yard was a woodshed. It
was not locked, and there was a small window
in it that commanded a view of the easement of
Kate’s apartment.

The gleam of a light within showed that the
girl was there, for her shadow appeared every
now and then on the curtain.

The rufiians took refuge in the woodshed and
théelre made themselves as comfortable as pos-
81 e.

In twenty minutes the light was
guisbed.

" Now then, we’ll give her about an hour to
get sound asleep and then we’ll do the job,”
Four Kings observed to his companion.

For a full hour the two waited, and then, sat-
isfied that all was favorable for the attempt,
they proceeded to the accomplishment of their
murderous design.

Their plan had been well digested and they
knew exactly what to do. It was an easy mat-
ter to climb to the roof of the piazza. The
catch of the casement yielded to the knife of
Stingy Bill, and Four Kings cautiously raised
the Window-sash.

(To be continued—commenced in N0. 65.)

The Pink oinlhe Pacific;

The Adventures of a. Stowaway.

extin-

 

BY OLIVER OPTIC.

CHAPTER XXIX.
THE LANDLADY or THE IMPERIAL CROWN.

CAPTAIN BODFIELD was instructed not to
mention on board of the Belle of the Bay the
astonishing event which had just come to his
knowledge, for the ends of justice might be de-
feated if Mr. Dunwood were informed that his
ill—gotten fortune was in danger of slipping out
of his possession.

“ I am almost sorry I told him,” said the com-
mander, musing, after the captain of the Belle
had departed.

“He Won’t say a word about the matter to
Mr. Dunwood,” replied Pink. “ He liked his po-
sition on board of the brig very much at first;
but since he has found out what sort of a man
Elbe (’iwner is, I know he would like to get out of

er.

“But my mission in Koti is accomplished;
and I have no further business here,” continued
Captain Fairfield. “ I told the raj ah last night
that I must soon return to my own country.
We must get ready to leave in the yacht in a
few days; for I do not care to lose sight of John
Dunwood for any great length of time.”

At this moment an officer was shown into the
room, who proved to be a messenger from the
rajah, requiring the immediate attendance of
the commander at the palace. The proa in
which Pink and his father had come up the
river was made ready, and they embarked. On
their arrival at the palace, Captain Fairfield

resented his son, and Pink was taken b the
hand as though he had been a rince. here
was great news at the palace. he soldiers of
the rajah had fought another battle that fore-
noon with theinvaders: and the rajah of Djama
had sent a commission to sue for peace, fearful
that the victorious chiefs would invade his own
dominion. The advice of the commander was
desired, for the rajah of Koti was disposed to
enter the territory of his great enemy, and chas-
tise him for his ambition.

But the commander of the forces counseled
peace, as he had always done_before. He was
appointed to meet the commiss10ners, and be—
fore the day was ended, a treaty had been
agreed to which bound the two rajahs together
in a defensive league; and certain high chiefs
of Djama were to reside in Koti for a year, as
hostages for the good faith of their master. The
captured proas were to be returned, but an in-
demnity in gold was to be paid to the Victor.
One half this amount the rajah presented to
Captain Fairfield for his valuable services.

When all this business was accomplished, and
the hostages from D jams. had arrived, the rajah
reluctantly consented to the departure of the
commander. Orders were given to put the An-
nie, which was the name of the commander’s
yacht, in condition for a voyage. As the cap-
tain had said, the Dyaks were no sailors for
regular sea-service, but a dozen of them had
been trained so that they could work the vessel
with tolerable facility, and they were set at
work on board of her. The captain only in-
tended to employ them to take the vessel to Ma-
nila, where he could ship a crew of Europeans
for the homeward voyage. .

All over the territory of the rajah, the people
were having a week of festivities in honor of
the victorious peace. On the night before the
Annie was to sail for Manila, the commander,
attended by Pink, was present at one of these
feasts a few miles up the river. It was at.a
consi erable village, and the party went up in
a proa. The houses were all built on posts,
from six to twenty feet above the ground.
They were as close together as in a large city,
and in front of them was a broad platform or
veranda, which seemed to be common. to all the
people. On this platform all the inhabitants and
their guests were collected. The commander
was received with all the honors and treated
with the utmost respect. Pink saw that some
of the young chiefs whom he had met on the
proas were present; and they were very polite
to him, after their fashion.

There were about as many young women
present as men; and Pink thought the country
must have been scoured to obtrin so many
good-looking girls. They were not extenswely
clothed. the entire wardrobe conSIsting of only
a sort of tunic, reaching from the waist down
to the knees. They wore a cap shaped likea
fez; and some of them had necklaces and other
ornaments about the neck. They were as full
of life and animation as the seine number of
girls at home. They brought in the repast,
consisting mainly of fruits. Each of the dusky
beauties seemed to have one of the young chiefs
in charge, and gave him all he wanted. to eat
and drink, especially to drink. The fluid used
on this occasion was tuak, of which Pink had
some previous knowledge. _ I

The girls brought it to the young men in jars,
and if they were at all backward in taking the
cap the ladies laughed at them and ridiculed
them in the most unmerciful manner. One of
the fair maidens attended to the wants of Pink;
and he ate abundanily of the fare brought to
him. Of course he could not talk With the lady,
though his father acted as interpreter for him
part of the time. Then his attendant brought
him a jar of tank, and when he shook his head
and declined to touch it, she made all manner of
gestures at him, pointing at him With a hiss,
laughing violently at his refusal. Then she
placed the cup at his lips, and .tried to ceax him

0 drink.
t “ I advise you not to drink much of that
stuff,” said his father. .

“I don’t mean to take any of it. I drank
some of it on board of a Malay pros: and that
was enough to last me as long as l live, ’ re plied
, Pink.

 

The blandishments of the maiden were in
vain, and Pink refused even to taste of the tank.
It would have been better for the young war-
riors if they had done the same; but they could
not resist the persuasions and ridicule of the

sirens. One after another they tumbled over
backward, blind drunk and insensible; whereat
the fair attendants laughed as though they had
perpetrated a most stupendous joke. But the
Dyaks are generally very temperate, and never
get drunk unless enticed to intoxication by the
females.

At one side of the platform were some older
chiefs, who prided themselves upon their strong
heads. They drank all that was brought to
them, and though they were rather boozy, they
were able to hold their heads up to the end.
There was no uarreling at the feast, in spite of
the quantity 0 tuak consumed, for the young
men were too drunk and the old ones too digni-
fied to fight. At midnight the commander and
his son went on board of the proa and returned
to their home.

The next morning Pink went on board of the
Annie. She was a schooner of a hundred and
sixty tons; and her owner said she had taken
the first prize every time she had sailed in a re-
gatta before he purchased her. She was fitted
up with every convenience and luxury which
the voyager can have on shipboard. She had
six large state—rooms, besides a dozen berths in
her cabin. Her sails, which had been housed
while she was laid up, were in excellent condi-
tion, and had been bent under the direction of
Captain Fair field. Pink thought she was fully
equal to the Belle of the Bay; and her owner
was sure she would outsail the brig in the long
run.

The fore and main-sails were hoisted, and
with the captain at the helm, the schooner
stood down the river. A long stop had to be
made at the town while the commander of the
forces took leave of the rajah and his officers,
but before night the vessel was out of the river,
and standing up the Strait. At the end of the
fifth day she went into the harbor of Manila.
The Belle of the Bay was at anchor there; but
the pilot said the family had gone on an excur-
sion to the interior of the island.

“ I had hoped they would have left before we
got here,” said Captain Fairfield. “ As it is, I
am glad they are not in town; and you must
get be seen by any one that belongs to the

ri .

“gExcept Captain Bodfield,” suggested Pink.

“ If we could see him alone, it would do no
harm; but he is likely to have some of his peo-
ple with him if he comes on board of the
Annie,” replied the captain. “As we fly the
American flag, it is very likely he will pay us a
visit. If he does, you must keep out of sight.”

The next morning they heard of a brig that
was bound down the coast of Borneo; and look-
ing her up, a bargain was made to convey the
Dyak crew back to their homes. The next
thing was to obtain a suitable crew for the
yacht, and for this purpose the captain went on
shore, taking Pink with him. The boy had no
clothes but those he wore, and the first care of
his father was to supply his needs in this direc-
tion. When he was dressed in a new suit, it
would have been hard for his late shipmates in
the brig to recognize him.

Pink hardly knew himself in his new suit, as
he surveyed his form in the mirror. A plenti-
ful supply of clothing was purchased for him,
and packed in a trunk, a piece of furniture for
which the waif had never before had any use.

“ As we have no cook or steward on bocrd of
the Annie, we must board at a hotel,” said Cap-
tain Fairfield, when he had completed his busi—
ness. “ Which is the best hotel in the city ?" he
asked of the merchant

“ The Imperial Crown: it is kept by an Eng-
lishman. It is not twenty steps from here,” re-
plied the shopkeeper.

Father and son walked to the Imperial
Crown, and received a hearty welcome from
the landlord. A dinner was ordered. and the
captain read the English papers till it was
ready. Pink wandered about the establish-
ment; and every time he saw the landlord, he
stopped to study his features. He thought he
had seen him before, but he was not sure. He
went out into the street to read the sign. Un-
der the title of the hotel was the name, “ Fred-
erick McIntosh.” It was all plain enough to
him now; the landlord had kept a hotel in Syd-
ney, and the circus people had boarded at his
house. But the young athlete had grown six
inches since he was in the circus, and in his al-
tered dress the man did not recognize him.

Pink hastened to tell his father of the dis-
covery he had made; but the captain did not
regard it as of an importance. While they
were talking about it. they were called to din-
ner. They were waited upon by Chinese ser-
vants; but a woman who appeared to be the
landlady came in to see that everything was
properly done. Pink had seen her also in Syd-
ney; but she did not know him now.

“ What is the matter, father!” asked Pink, as
Captain Fairfield put his head almost down to
his plate, and seemed to be acting very strange-
ly. “ Are you sick?”

“ No, my son; don’t notice me now,” replied
the captain, in a low tone.

In a few minutes the landlady left the room.

“ That woman is Sally Burnap, who was your
nurse, Eliot,” said Captain Fairfield.

CHAPTER XXX.
CAPTAIN BODFIELD‘S OPERATIONS.

THE landlady of the Imperial Crown did not
return to the dining—room while Captain Fair-
field and his son remained there. The bill was
paid, for the captain was not willing to remain
any longer, and they left the place. He was
afraid they would recognize him or Pink; and
this might interfere with his plans. They
found a Spanish hotel, or posada, in another
part of the city, where it was more prudent for
them to remain. The first person they saw
when they entered was Captain Bodfield, read—
ing a newspaper in the corner. So completely
was Pink changed that his old friend did not
notice him till his father spoke to him. The
captain of the Belle of the Bay was delighted
to see them, and he almost hugged the waif
when he recognized him in his “ long togs."

The events which had occurred since they
parted were discussed. The Dunwoods had
been gone three days, and were to be absent a
week longer. Captain Bodfield declared that
he was tired of doing nothing, and he should be
glad to get to sea again.

“ But things are working badly on board of
the brig, Pink,” he added; “and I wish I was
out of her.”

“ How is that 3” asked Pink.

“ Why, that boy is the most intolerable nui-
sauce that ever went unhungl” exclaimed the
captain of the Belle. “1 have been in a row
with him ever since we left you at that town.”

“ Is he any worse than he has always been ?”

“ Perhaps not; but I never knew what he was
till he began to pick upon you. I find that the
entire crew have been imposed upon, and treat-
ed like dogs by him, and by the father for his
son’s sake. In fact, the ship‘s company are al-
most iu a state of mutiny. I am not sure that
half of them won’t desert before we are ready
to leave Manila.”

“I didn’t suppose it was so bad as that,”
added Pink.

“Chinks told me all about it the other day;
and says the men have been tormented ever
since the brig sailed from Baltimore, six
months ago. I have come to believe that
sailors will bear downright abuse better than
this sort of treatment. Tom has never for-
given the men for laughing when you tipped
him over on deck that day. He pitched into
them as soon as we were clear of the shore, and
ordered the cook not to give them any dinner
or supper. I remonstrated with his father: but
he was afraid the young rascal would jump
overboard if he crossed him; so the men fasted
from breakfast one day till the same meal the
next day. This made the crew so mad that
they have been contriving all sorts of ways to
annoy him. They have ducked him. tripped
him up with ropes, put far in his deck‘chnir,
and many other tricks have been played off on

im.

 

 

 

 

“ What does he do about it?"asked Pink, who
sympathized with the sailors.

.“lt took his father and mother both to get
him out of his deck—chair: and he and his fa-
ther Went to work to find out who put the tar
on the seat. No one knew who did it; and
Tom threatened to have the whole crew flogged
if.they didn’t tell who did it. The lady’s-maid
said Monks was the man that did it, for she had
seen him with a tar—pot in his hand near the
chair, Very likely it was Monks; I don’t know
who it was. Tom ordered the second mate to
lay hands on this man, and tie him to the main—
mast. Sanders made a feint of doing what he
was told, but the rest of the crew huddled
around the man, and would not allow him to
be tied up. This was the day before the brig
arrived here, and the case is not settled yet,
though Tom declares that Monks shall be
flogged for what he did. I think if the crew
could get home readily, they would leave the
bug in a body. I am as much dissatisfied as
the men, for that boy commands the vessel,
and interferes with my duties almost every
hour of the day.”

“Then I think I did the right thing when I
Ieft the brig.” said Pink, laughing.

“ I am sorry I did not leave with you. But

how did you come to Manila, Captain Fair-
field?" asked Captain Boofield.
. “We came in my yacht; and I think I putthe
idea of cruising in a yacht into Dnnwood's head.
I told him if I was ever able to do so, Iintended
to sail these waters in a pleasure craft: and I
gave him all the details of the plan, which he
seems to have carried out, as l have myself.
Won‘t you go on board of the Annie :3”

The captain accepted the invitation; and
taking a boat on the Pasig river, they were soon
on board of the schooner. Captain Bodfield ex-
amined the yacht with a critical eye, and was
liberal of his praise.

“ But where is your crew?” he asked, when
he had completed his examination.

“ We have no crew yet; I shall ship one here
as soon as possible,” replied Captain Fairfield.

“There are plenty of men to be had in Ma-
nila. A Spanish vessel brought in the crew of
an English ship, which was wrecked on the
coast of New Guinea; and they are all waiting
for a passage home. Very likely every one of
them would be glad to ship to New York, or any
other American port.”

“I suppose I can find them by applying to
the British consul,” added Captain Fairfield.

“ I am somewhat acquainted in Manila, and if
you desire it, I will ship a crew for you,” sug-
gested the captain of the Belle.

The ofifer was promptly accepted.

“ How many men do you want?”

“ Two mates, for I don‘t care to keep a watch
myself, twelve seamen, a cook and steward.”

“All right; they shall be on board in the
course of three or four days.”

There was a twinkle about the eye of Captain
Bodfleld which Pink noticed, though his father
did not. The master of the brig was utterly
disgusted with the position he had so eagerly
accepted. He even preferred the coarse fare
and rude quarters of a Whale-ship to the palatial
craft on board of which he had so many trials
and crosses to endure.

“ “What should you say to me as first ofiicer of
this yacht?” said be, after a pause. “I am used
to schooners, for I sailed in one a year.”

“Nothing could suit me better; nothing so
well,” replied Captain Fairfield, heartily.

“ I know what you will say; but I am under
no obligations whatever to remain in the brig
For aught I know Mr. Dunwood may discharge
me before he sails from this port; indeed, be
hinted as much when I declined to comply with
one of Tom's whims as we were coming into

ort. -

p “ Then I ship you as mate, with the same
wages you receive now,” added the owner of
the Annie.

“Thank you, captain; and I will attend at
once to shipping a crew.”

“ Now, Captain—”

“Mr. Bodfield now, if you please,” laughed
the new mate.

“No; I intend that you shall have the com-
mand of the yacht, and I will be simply a pas—
senger.”

“ Very well, sir; I shall take whatever place
you give me, ’ replied Bodfield. “ What were
you about to say, sir?”

“I think I shall need your assistance about
another matter, Captain 'Bodfield,” and the
owner informed him that he had discovered the
nurse and the husband in the landlord andland-
lady of the Imperial Crown. “I want their
evidence for use in New York.”

“ They don’t know you are here, do they?”

“ They did not recognize either of us.”

“ Then I think the case can be managed with
bold treatment. I wonder if Mr. Dunwood
knows these people are here?”

“Certainly not; for the rascal has changed
his name; and I am sure John Dunwood would
keep out of his way, for they have a terrible
hold on him,” replied Captain Fair-field. “ Mrs.
Dunwood knows nothing about this business;
and her husband would not have brought her
into the same town that contained these people,
if he knew it.”

“ I will go to the Imperial Crown, and get ac-
quainted with the man and his wife. Then I
will report to you.”

Captain Bodfield called a shore boat, and after
visiting the Belle of the Bay, he went to the
city. He took his supper at the Imperial Crown;
and it is possible that he paid for more wine
than he drank in the course of the evening; but
when he left, he had won the hearts of the land-
lord and his wife by his wit and liberality.
When he told them that he was the captain of a
yacht, they wanted to visit her; and he gave
them a cordial invitation to do so at a time he
would fix in the future. He would even be
happy to give them a sail in the yacht while the
owner was absent; and nothing would suit them
better.

The next day Captain Fairfield attended to
the purchase of provisions and stores for the
voyage; and at the end of three days the Annie
was ready to sail. On the evening of that day
the new crew presented themselves on board.
To the astonishment of Pink every one of the
new hands were men from the Belle of the Bay.
Chinks and Sanders were among them; so were
the cook and the ward-room steward: and the
seamen were the best hands in the brig.

“ How is this, Mr. Chinks?” asked Pink, as
the mate of the Belle extended his broad hand
to him. _

“ So many of us have left the brig; and the
rest of the crew would leave her if they could
get berths in a homeward-bound vessel. But I
want you and the old gentleman to understand
that all of us shipped for this voyage in Manila,
and after we had left the brig for good.”

“ Of Course we understand that,” laughed
Pink. “But you are not to tell any one in the
brig that you have seen me.”

“ Captain Bodfield told us all about that when
be shipped us; and we don’t expect to see any of
the family again, or any of our shipmates that
stay in the brig,” replied Chinks. “I suppose
this vessel goes to sea to-night?”

“ Not till to-morrow, I think.”

Captain Bodfleld came on board at a later
hour to satisfy himself that all the crew had re-
ported. He remained on board till after dinner
the next day; and then pulled up the Pasig in
the four-oar gig. In the course of an hour he
returned, having the landlord and landlady of
the Imperial Crewn in the stern—sheets with
him. They were handed on deck with all the
honors. The fore and mainsails had been hoist-
ed, and the anchor hove up to a short stay. All
the port requirements had been complied with,
and the Annie had been regularly cleared. In
less than ten minutes after the passengers were
on board the yacht was standing down the
bay.

Mr. Frederick McIntosh andladyenjo ed the
sail very much, for it was a delightfu after—
noon, and the sea was smooth. But at dark
they said they had gone about far enough.

Then it was that they received from the cap-
tain the startling news:

“ You are bound for New York!”

(To be continued—commenced in No. 58.)

 

  

Harney’sinmunilion.

BILL Roo'r's YARN,

 

' “ WHEN it comes to manufacturin’
Juns,” remarked Bill Root to a group of listen-
ers who had congregated about him, “ General
Harney was the most powerful reformer we
ever had—in the army. He could make the
untutored savage as mild as a homeopathic pill.
The Department knew this, an’ whenever there
wasa tolerable demand for a few copperskin
sculps by way of variety, they would turn the
old general loose and begin to bet on how many
he’d whoa-haw from the. evil of their ways.
The pesky reds used to call him ‘Big Thunder,’
an’ by that name he was known all over the
Rocky Mountain region. Whenever he‘d get
in the immediate vicinity of Sioux, Piutes, or
whatever they happened to be, there was bound
to be trouble; so when the Department sent him
out. to Humboldt Wells, on the old Californy
trail, to wallop a band 0’ cut-throats that had
been cuttin’ up a little too much for the com-
fort of their audiences, it was universally agreed
that the complaints from there would cease—
for a time, at least.

“Ye see, this place called Humboldt Wells
was about the only spot in a right smart stretch
0’ country where there was any water, so all
the pilgrims made it a campin’-place for the
night—not from choice, but because they had
to. There was a big, pumpkin-top hill close by,
overlookin’ the valley, and whenever a party of
tenderfeet would camp there for the night a lot
0’ greasy red—skins would appear on this knoll,
on hossback, an’ prance round as though train-
in’ for a circus. They’d whoop an’ holler an’
have lots 9’ fun, an’ wind up the performance
by describin’ a circle round the tops of their
heads with their scalpin’-knives, as much as to
say: _‘ We hope you were pleased with our on-
tertainment. N0 assessment was levied at the
door, but we’ll call around some time between
now and morniu’ and take up a collection.’ An’
they usually did, too, secure quite a collection—-
of sculps.

“Well, as I was tellin’ ye, General Harney
was sent out to put a stop to this funny busi-
ness. He got a lot of immigrant wagons,
covers and all, put a young cannon in each of
’em, iled a big lot of sojers inside an’ set out
for umboldt Wells. Just before he reached
there, however, he made the discovery that,
while he had ded—oodles of powder, he hadn’t a
blamed shot for his howitzers—they had forgot
to put ’em on board the prairie schooners be-
fore they set out on the voyage. But the gene-
ral wouldn’t go back. Says he, ‘ Go on, an’ I’ll
fix that little matter,’ so on they went. When
they camped the general ranged all the wagons
so their hind ends p’inted square at the hill, an’
then he told his men to load the artillery, an’
told ’em what to use for shot. Then he waited
for the curtain to be rung up.

“ Them Injuns was on the watch. They saw
the outfit camp, but 0’ course couldn’t see the
guns, for the wagon—kivers hid ’em. So, ’long
toward sundown, they made their appearance
on top 0’ the hill and commenced their usual
monkev- shines. This bill, mind ye, wasn’t very
far off, for them was the days of short-range
guns, so the dog eaters weren’t afeared to come
pretty close. The general had unched holes
enough in the canvas to allow t 6 guns to be
sighted, an’ when the red-skins were pretty
well bunched up on the butte he give the word
to fire. Them wagon—sheets went up quicker’n
a wink an’ them guns went off p’r’aps a second
or two later. Then the sojers piled out o’ the
wagons with the intention o’ pursuin’ the fleeiu’
fee. The foe, however, didn’t flee worth a cent.
It couldn’t. The top 0’ that hill, though, looked
mighty queer. The first thing the boys found
was an Indian who had evidently been choked
to death in tryin’ to swallow a kingrbolt. Then
they found two more with a trace-chain run
through ’em—fastened right together. Sbme
of ’em was sufferin’ from too much tenpenny
nails—there was a keg of ’em in one of the
wagons—an’ one old feller had a whole single-
tree shot right throu h him. A common clevis
had disarranged the interior department of one
old buck, while no less than a dozen had been
killed by bein’ struck by trace chains, wrenches,
hammers, common bolts drawed out o’ the
wagon boxes, and sich like. Their horses had
got their share, too, an’ laid around thicker’n

ops.

“It was a very pleasant affair, all around,
though the boys had to tie their wagons
up with ropes in order to make ’em hold to-
gether until they reached the fort—they’d shot
almost all the ironwork away, ye see. The In‘
juns? Well, most of ’em went on an excursion-
trip to the happy huntin’-grounds; but I guess a
few of ’em got away. Leastwise, a half-breed,
who kinder stood in with both sides, called on
the general not long arterward an’ wanted to
know how in thunder he could shoot a whole
wagon out of a three-inch—bore howitzer.”

good In-

 

Sc'ience and Industry.

 

Tm: manufacture of bedsteads in Chattanooga,
Tenn, for the year 1883, reached about 55,000.

Wno will wonder at the ravages of slugs and
snails after learning that a large slug has 160 rows
of teeth, with 180 teeth in each row, which cannot
be dissolved even in acid?

IN a. letter to Woods and Forests (London) an “ Old
Forester ” testifies to the wonderful efficacy of creo-
sote oil in preserving wood. It effectually prevents
all growth of fungus, etc. The timber must be
thoroughly dry before being creosoted.

OVER 21,000,000 pounds of indie-rubber were im-
ported into this country last year, a falling off of
about 2,000,000. The total consumption of the
world was about 32,000,000 pounds, and on January
1 about 14,000,000 pounds represented the world a
supply on hand.

Tm: following ages have, on the authority of
skilled arboriculturists, been attained by trees :
Yew, 3,200 years; schuhertia, 3 000; cedar, 2,000;
oak, 1,500; spruce, 1,200; lime, 1,100; Oriental plane,
1,000; walnut, 900; olive and cypress, 800; orange,
630; maple, 500; elm, 300.

THE ivory market of the world is London. The
product is brought from the East and the western
coast of Africa. Cape Colony, Ce lon, India. and the
countries east of the Straits of alazca. But by far
the largest amount is imported from Africa, an i the
total weight given by the British Board of Trade re-
turns for two or three years ago was 9,414 cwt.

IT is said that snow obtained in Scotland, Holland
and Northern Germany has been subjected to care.
ful microsco . ical examination and minute particles
of volcanic ust have been detected. Similar results
in various parts of this country would prove almost
beyond question the accuracy of the Java theo of
the afterglows which have been noticed in the 6 ‘es
for months past.

IT is stated that the mountains of Gellivara, in the
northern part of Sweden consist of pure magnetic
iron in immense layers of several hundred-feet. One
of these peaks aloneis supposed to contain 280,000,-
000 tons. Large forests are contiguous, and they
are less than 100 miles from the Atlantic. A railroad
is to be built, and it is estimated that the iron can be
delivered on the sea-coast at a cost of fifty cents per
ton.

SOMEBODY has been collecting figures giving the
distances to which sound is conveyed under favorable
atmospheric conditions. J. J. Stranahan states that
the whistle and the noise of the train on the trestle
at Erie were formerl heard at a distance of nine-
teen miles. W. J. 00., of San Pablo, Cal.. writes
that on calm. clear days, especially in the fall, they
hear the rumble of the cars on a trestle located
eighteen miles distant. J. H. S. 53. s that he fre
iiiiently heard the railroad shotp w istle at Grand

sland while living at Orville, a istance of twenty-
eight miles. C. V. Swarthout, Cape Vincent, New
York, frequently hears the whistle at Kingston, Ont.,
twenty miles. '

IT would more than re say a day’s sojourn at J on.
koping. says the Pall Ma 1 azette, to visit the. factory
whence proceeds not a small part of the light of the
world. The latest novelty, only at work for about a
month, is an enormous engine, which daily produces
1,000,000 boxes of Swedish matches. This wonder-
ful machine receives the raw material Inamely,
blocks of wood, at one end, and. after a while, gives
up at the otherthe matches neatly arranged in their
boxes, ready to be dispatched to the uttermost ends
of the world. The wood which in the course of last
summer was brought over 10 Jonkijpin to be made
into matches filled twenty steamers an eight sailing
vessels.

     

 

 

 

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Published erery Manday morning at nine o’clock.

 

NEW YORK, MARCH 1, 1884.

 

’ WEEKLY is sold by all Newsdealers in
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Parties unable to obtain it from a Newsdealer, or
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TAKE NOTICE—In sending money for subscription,
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t form of a remittance. Losses bV.ID8.ll Will be
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lowed. _ .

Q‘All communications, subscriptions, and let-

ters on business should be addressed to
BEADLE AND ADAMS. PUBLISHERS.

98 WILLIAM ST.. NEW YORK.

 

 

[3" We have to announce in reference to the
contributions sent in, in response to our PRIZE
OFFERS, that, without exception, all fail to
reach the standard requisite for use in any of
our publications—our own corps of writers not
competing. No award, therefore, is declared;
and all manuscripts are held for thirty days sub-
ject to author’s order of return by express, or
stamps for return by mail.

 

N E X 'I‘ 1
A Brilliant Sea and Shore Serial.

Col. lngraham’s latest!
Ocean Guerrillas ;

on,

The Planter Midshipman.

A romance of Southern Shores and Waters in
the days when the sea bandits, smugglers and
gentlemen sea rovers held sway over the Gulf
and Caribbean Sea; and While it is a romance
of these guerrillas, who mutually preyed on each
other as well as on the commerce of the high
seas, and scourged the shore plantations, it tells
a superb story of love, hate, sacrifices and re-
venge that makes it very inspiriting reading.

Colonel Prentiss Ingraham

Writes only for Beadlc’s “'eekly.

 

The Wide Awake Papers.

A Plea. for Men.

SOME months ago, during the progress Of a
divorce suit, the husband endeavored to awaken
sympathy for himself and defend his position
by explaining that his wife “ smoked cigarettes
by the bundle.” It seemed to be about the
most damaging charge he could make in retalia—
tion for her complaints against him, and it cer-
tainly was a terrific one! She smoked cigar-
ettes by the bundle! Naughty, bad woman!
Horrible woman! Wicked woman!

It is strange that under such horrible circum-
stances, when he had a complaint so heart-
rending to make against her, that he, instead
of she, was not the suppliant for the divorce!
No right-thinking, high-minded, intelligent
jury could have failed to have granted him im-
mediate freedom from a. marital companion so
obnoxious and vile! True he would have been
likely to have spent the rest of his natural life
in waiting for such ajury to be impanneled; but
that would have been preferable—one would
have thought—to spending one’s life with a
person who smoked cigarettes by the bundle.
Why, haw could he endure to live with a woman
who smoked cigarettes by the bundle, or any
other way, or who smoked at all?

What man, in all the world of man-
kind. but must feel his heart bleed when
he thinks of what that one poor mascu~
line had to suffer? Who ever heard before of a
wife so “quite too utterly.” awful? Just think
what a home—what a place of fiendish torture
—that man’s must have been! Oh, it fills the
soul with direst agony to picture it! A para-
dise, perhaps, in its paraphernalia, in its care-
ful management, in the perfection of its cuisine.
but reigned over by a fiend in the fair shape of
a woman—a woman who smoked cigarettes by
the bundle. Imagine, if you can, Oh pure, re-
fined, and lofty-souled man—if even your stern
spirit can endure the agony of such visions—
t e nightly home-coming of that afflicted hus-
band! [Probably he went home at night, occa-
sionally. Even the best of them do.] See him
as, with manly neatness and true marital devo-
tion, he carefully Wipes his muddy boots upon
the white lamb’s—wool mat that ornaments the
parlor threshold, and hangs his damp coat and
hat upon an embroidered satin chair, and
rushes, yes, rushes! [they always rush to kiss
their wives, husbands do!] to imprint his usual
evening caress upon his wife’s lips! Watch
him as he bends over her where she sits
sewing a new band upon one of his worn
shirts, and presses his sweet, unpolluted mouth
to hers! Note the sickening shudder that con-
vulses his frame as the fumes of cigarettes greet
his olfactories, and the biting, bitter taste of
nicotine stings his lips! Observe the almost di-
vine love and charity with which he tries to
hide his disgust, and secretly passes his hand-
kerchief over his pure mouth! Behold the an-
guish with which he turns to the mantle to
find his pet bisque ornament [a dancing-girl
holding a tambourine] converted into a recep-
tacle for ashes and ends of cigarettes! Look at
his despairing countenance as he sees a package
of cigarettes in the decorated china cup his
grandmother sent him on the previous Christ-
mas! Remark the carking care that lines
his brow as he discovers a tiny white drift of
ashes on the carpet near where his wife sits, and
a film of them on the table beside her work-
basket! Heed the frenzy that gathers in his
eyes when, after supper, his wife lights a. cig-
arette and puffs at it as she darns his socks
and he reads the newest novel, regardless
of how she scents up the lace curtains with
the vile odor of tobacco! See the distress
pictured upon his countenance as the dis-
gusting smell oflr‘ends his nose and starts
the tears to his eyes; and listen to his pain-
ful cough as the smoke irritates and chokes
his sensitive throat!

Only the stoutestshearted can think calm-
ly of the awful sufferings of the husband of a
woman who smokes cigarettes by the bundle!
Indeed, in all the realm Of marital experi nces,
a more terrible case can never have been known
_—-uuless there exists or has existed such a fiend
in human form as a wife who smoked had five-

 

bacco! The mystery still remains—how was it
he did not apply for the divorce? How could
he endure the untidiness of a home constantly
littered up with ashes, burnt matches, cigarette
ends, and smokers’ conVenieuces? How could
he live in a house redolent with tobacco-smoke?
How could he bear to have his clothes saturated
with the smell? How could he survive having
his eyes blinded, his nostrils offended, his throat
irritated, his stomach nauseated, by a constant
odor and smoke that was most repugnant to him!
How could he have his lips tainted by caresses
from the tobacco impregnated ones of his wife?
How could he endure to associate and sleep with
a woman whose breath was impure with smoke?
How could he afford her the money necessary
to the indulgence of this extravagant habit?—
Well. that he did so until his wife proposed
to give him his freedom by gettiogadivorce
from him on account of some of his innocent
little misdemeanors. proves that he was as near-
ly angelic as men are made!

Oh! awful woman that smoked cigarettes by
the bundle, how shall she be sufficiently and
justly denounced? With what words shall her
enormity of manners and morals be fittineg
condemned? How could she cause any man to
suffer as evsry man must suffer who comes in
contact with a smoker? If her husband had
smoked it would have been a different matter,
for then he could have comprehended her en-
thusiasm for smoking; he could have shared her
solacing cigarette lighted to calm her nerves
as she began darning a tenth pair of socks;
he could have appreciated her need of a sed-
ative weed after a hearty dinner —which
she had not only eaten but cooked: he
could have helped her to fill the tambourine
of the dancing-girl with ashes and stumps; he
would have agreed with her as to the efficacy
of cigar-ashes for keeping moths out of carpets:
he would have declared with her that smoking
cost nothing—“absolutely nothing, only a few
cents a day ;” he would have shaken hands with
her upon the assertion that smoking was healthy;
his greeting kiss would have been all the m' re
enjoyable if it was flavored with a smoking of
tobacco on both sides; his retirement to rest
and his dreams would have been all the sweeter
if the fumes of smoke from two breaths instead
of one lulled him asleep! But of course he did
not smoke. If he had been a smoker he would
never have murmured at his Wife following his
excellent example—oh no! Besides, men so sel-
dom do smoke! Who ever heard of a woman
defending herself against any husbandly com-
plaint with the assertion that her husband
smoked—-cigarettes, bad cigars, pipes, or any-
thing else? Where, oh where, can the woman
be found, who has a husband who causes her
the sufferings any woman who smokes must
cause her faithful conjugal mate? Nowhere,
of course! Men are so truly noble! Never a
man existed who would smoke—if his wife ob-
jected!

And so, whenever the husband appears who
dislikes smoking, his wife should emulate the
noble example of mankind, and at every or
any cost, deny herself the luxury, privilege,
and necessity of smoking, out of consideration
for his tastes, nose, and stomach; and when a
woman feels that she actually must have her
occasional scothing cigarette she should take
great care to choose for a husband one of those
few men who know how it is themselves.
Women should remember that men are far
superior to the feminine sex in refinement of
taste, delicacy of smell, and daintiness of the
epigastric regions, and take care never to do
violence to these touching manly graces, by
smoking cigarettes by the bundle!

BELLE BRIGHT.

 

 

The Owl Papers.

A Grocer’s Sample-Case.

 

OUR friend, Colonel Corridor, is a grocery
missionary from away up the road; he travels
for his own health and the general good of the
people. He is his own sample of the quality of
groceries he carries, for he wears a good, whole-
some-sized vest, and a heart to fit it; and if
there is one virtue he is afflicted with more than
another it is his refined XXX modesty, of
which he always carries a large supply with
him in his philanthropic travels. Fortunately,
he has succeeded in not disposing of any of this
stock of philanthropy, since it is not for sale; he
only has it to show.

Like a modest man, the colonel thinks there
are only two sexes in the world, the one to
which he belongs, and the other, which he is
quick to acknowledge is vastly superior goods
to anything in his line. He can tell a pretty
face without specs, or having it pointed out to
him. Indeed the colonel would be a good poet
but for the fact that he is always on the jump,
and it is hard at one and the same time to col-
lect his thoughts and his bills, or to put down
his rhymes and orders on consecutive pages.
The cause of humanity—embodied in the
grocery trade— called him not long since to
Missouri. At Jumbo station he took a reclining-
chair car for Kansas City. It was dusk as he
took the only vacant chair in the car, the next
being occupied by a gentleman who had a head-
ache and two beautiful daughters in the chairs
back of them. A .very pleasant conversation,
such as the colonel knows how to manufacture,
ensued. Later, chairs were tilted back, and the
young ladies went to sleep with a'wish that
their sick father would soon get there, too.
Still later in the night the sick gentleman
begged the colonel to exchange seats with him,
as the noise at the side of the car made his head
ache worse. This was done, and the colonel
tilted his chair back and covered his face with
his handkerchief: then, by the aid of a con-
science that fitted his head like a last year’s hat.
and the consoling thought that he had not
charged his customers too much for his goods,
he closed up his memory’s day—book and Went
f0 lfleep to the music of the train, and a dim
1g t.

He dreamed he was in the grocer’s heaven, re-
clining on a sumptuous pile of downy coffee-
sacks, in the center of a gorgeous palace whose
walls, instead of stone, were boxes of starch,
candy, soap, roasted coffee, codfish, etc. : the col-
umns which supported the roof began on a sugar-
hogshead and dwindled on up till they ended
with a mackerel kit; a thousand little imps were
busy rolling goods through the vast portals to
customers who were clamoring outside. All at
once he felt the light pressure of a warm, deli-
cate hand upon his sensitive brow, and rolling
back his eyes he beheld, standing by his couch,
the most beautiful fairy he had eVer expected
to see in his life: her eyes were looking down
into his with such pleasant smiles as he would
like to carry along with his other goods, canned.
The touch of her hand thrilled his heart from
the top of his head to the toe of his boot. ~Had
he eVer been been frightened at anything of the
kind, he would have risen and ran.

She softly breathed, “Poor Weary traveler,
and knight of the grip, rest you here forever!
Behold, I am Farina, the queen of this happy
realm, and as long as you remain the per cent.
on all these vast cash sales shall be yours.”

For the first time in his life in the presence of
such a lovely being he was at a loss for words,
and could only gaze in rapture on that seraphic
face, while she stroked his manly brow with an
ecstatic touch, until she accidentally scratched
his off ear with her finger—nail and woke him

Then he was aware of the pressure of a soft,
gentle hand smoothing his forehead. It was
nice, for he is but mortal. Then he heard he-
hind him the words, “Poor papa,” murmured,
and be instantly comprehended the peculiarities
of the situation, and knew the daughter was
not aware of the change of chairs. The posi-
tion would have crushed a stronger man than
the COL, and that would be hard to find. If he
ShOWed her the mistake it would bore her to
death, and even make him blush; if he laid low
an! kept dark, she was sure to disCOVeI‘ it later.
Between the tw i, he thought it best not to
he in a hurry with the catastrophe, and, as it

 

cent cigars, or smoked a pipe, or chewed to-

 

 

 

 

sleep, while the tender hand blissfully wandered
over his forehead or laid lovingly still. Once
in a while he would kind of heave a faint snore,
and set himself to thinking h0w he was ever
going to get out of the scrape without the hu-
miliation of both.

In his heart he wished he was walking along
the track that night, alone with his g1 ip, for he
perccived a large invoice of trouble ahead and
the freight prepaid.

His neck ached, lying so long in that one po-
sition, but he did not dare to move, and ear-
nestly began to hope that she would see her
mistake so he could wake up and feign igno-
rance. It was getting serious.

By and by, the handkerchief began to work
off of his face; it needed replacing; delicate
hands gently take it at the corners and lift. it
up; it is suddenly dropped with a girlish
scream, key of A sharp. Feminine flutter in
rear chairs. Large stock of small-sized “oh’s!”
in circulation, and frightened whispers. The
polite colonel snores yet louder, in lamb like
slumber.

As the morning was breaking the manful
drummer awoke with a big yawn, rubbing his
eyes, and proceeded to straighten up his chmr,
with a, pleasant “ Good-morning !" to the young
ladies, with the hope that they had rested com-
fortably—answered with some noticeable tim-
idity, especially by the one on the near side.

But the colonel rattled along with his lively
convarsation the rest of the way, just as if he
was totally ignorant Of what had happened,
which they at last believed, and gradually lost
their bashful reserve.

New, I am sorry I cannot point a moral and
wind this story up with a happy marriage,
which mi ht have happened, but the fact is his
wife wou dn’t hear to such a thing, and, like
the generality of married traveling men, he
had taken the utmost pains to inform the
young ladies that be was a Benedict—and the
young ladies were very charming, and beauti-
ful, indeed. SOLOMON SHINGLE.

 

Buflalo Bill “ On the Board.”

0F the dramatic success of the noted scout
and plainsman the New York Telegram has
this to say:

“ The Hon. W. F. Cody has been remarkably
successful on the stage. He has played to enor-
mous business all over the country. At the
People’s Theater last week he was seen in ‘ The
Prairie Waif’ by thousands and gave them
much satisfaction. He gives an agreeable en—
tertainment and has a strong company about
him. His comedian, Mr. Jule Keene, keeps the
spectators in good humor while he is on the
stage, and Miss Denier, the leading. lady, is
pretty and graceful. Buffalo Bill is a host in
himself. He is a splendid-looking man and
shoots as straight as William Tell. Moreover,
he acts with discretion and a good deal of skill.
At any rate. he never fails to make his points,
and he is always picturesque. With his live
Indians and Arizona John, Mr. Cody is sure to
play to good business eV( ry where.”

 

Dakota Settlers.

IN Dakota there are great numbers of Nor
wegians, who have been attracted to the coun-
try by the flaming circulars of the railroad and
land companies, and still more by letters from
friends already on the ground. They are not
disappointed, for they are content to begin very
humbly. At first a house of sods of one room is
satisfactory, though the pig is a. fellow occu—
pant. The first improvement is a sty close by
the front door, and the pig only enters the house
occasionally as a visitor. Next, the homemade
sod stove must make way for an iron one, and
the sod house itself is deserted for adwelling all
wood, and costing perhaps as much as $200.
When this house, with its wind0ws and its
shingled roof, is finally painted white, the cli—
max is reached. Imagination in its wildest
flight can picture nothing more luxurious or
beautiful.

 

Boys in Nevada.

OWING to the tendency of the young Austin
(New) boys to gravitate toward hoodlumism
after dark, the Board of Commissioners con-
cluded to make them go home at night and not
run the streets any more. A town ordinance
was accordingly passed to that effect, and now
from the tower of the hall of Eagle Engine
Company, No. 3, rings aloud the curfew bell
every evening at eight o‘clock, giving just
eight taps as a warning for the boys to vanish
homeward or be arrested. The boys accepted
the situation, not willingly, but judiciously
knowing that the entire police force stood
ready and watching to gobble them up unless
they could show authoritative permission from
parents or guardians. or that they were on er-
rands", or in the discharge of some legitimate
duty. At all public entertainments heretofore,
especially theatrical, etc., these boys have been
a very serious source of annoyance to both per-
formers and audience, crowding the back seats
and entry and driving people wild with their
yells, shrieks, whistling and stamping.

 

The Hottest Spot On Earth.

ONE of the hottest regions of the earth is
along the Persian Gulf, where little or no rain
falls. At Bahrin the arid shore has no fresh
water, yet a comparatively numerous pOpu-
lation contrivs's to live there, thanks to the
copious springs which burst forth from the
bottom of the sea. The fresh water is got by
diving. The diver, sitting in his boat, Winds
a great goat—skin bag around his left arm, the
hand grasping its month: then he takes in his
hand a heavy stone, to which is attached a
strong line, and, thus equipped, he plunges in
and quickly reaches the bottom. Instantly
opening the bag over the strong jet of fresh
water, he springs up the ascending current, at
the same time closing the bag, and is helped
on board. The stone is then hauled up, and
the diver, after taking breath plunges in again.
The source of these copious submarine springs
is thought to be in the green hills of Osman,
some 500 or 600 miles distant.

 

Chinese Roguery.

THERE is a $5 bogus coin, says the New Or—
leans States, that has for some time been pass-
ing current outside of the banks in the Pacific
States, which has recently appeared in Chicago
and other Western cities, to the surprise of the
Government detectives. This coin, it is said is
manipulated by the “ Heathen Chinee,” and so
skillfully is the work done that it requires an
expert to detect its spurious character. They
put the coin on a small lathe and with a hard
tool, like a graver’s tool, they hollow the middle
as deftly as it is possible to do it. They fill the
cavity with a mixture of platinum and lead, re-
mill the coin, gilt its edge, and the work is done.
The coin is equal in weight to the genuine, and
by some deft process the original ring is pre-
served. They take from a $5 piece gold to the
value of $1.50, from a $10 piece $2 50, and from
a $20 piece about $7.50. Their work is almost
perfect, but they are closely watched, and their
natural timidity keeps the number of “ artists ”
small indeed.

 

Western Etiquette.

WHEN asked to take something, never refuse.
If you shoot a man by a misiake for some one
else, it is positively required that you call on
the family immediately after the funeral and
apologize.

It is not polite to crack jokes at the expense
of a man who carries a self-cocking pistol.
Never carry a handkerchief in your hip-
pccket. Reaching for it may lead to misunder-
standings.

At lynching bees the master ( f ceremonies
has the exclusive right to designate those who
are to help pull on the rope.

 

did not hurt his head, he continued to feign

the hight of impoliteness to refuse.

on one corner will be suflicient.
for “ cartridges all out.”

known.

until the churches are built.

 

Slaughtering the Bufi'aloes.

over all the region where they are yet to be
found, threatens their early extinction. A

dent thus:

Mandan, one is struck with the evident scarcity
of game.
three years ago, herds of buffalo, antelope and

appearances stripped of its game.
tire distance from Livingston to Mandan I only
saw two or three small hands of antelope, and
not a sign of a deer or buffalo. The fact is the

for the past two years, and particularly of the
former. it is estimated that during the past
year there have been a thousand hunters en-
gaged in the business of slaughtering buffalo
along the line of the Northern Pacific between
Mandan and Livingston.”

Can nothing he done to arrest this wholesale
slaughter? It is not for the needs of the settler
that all this butchery is persisted in, but for
“ sport ” and for the hides, and in most cases the
carcass is left for the wolves. These “ sports
men,” we are told, are chiefly Englishmen, who,
having unlimited means, form a large party,
and with every necessary equipment fora whole
season’s “sport,” strike a herd and follow it up
until it is utterly scattered or killed. This, at
best, is brutal, ruthless, criminal destruction
that ought to be severely dealt with by‘State
or Territorial authority.

 

The Old Modoc Warriors.

TRAVELERS over the Vinita branch of the
’Frisco railroad will doubtless remember the
little village of Seneca, nestled in ugly ravines,
about 340 miles southwest of St. Louis, and lying
immediately on the line dividing Missouri from
the Indian Territory. Within four miles of the
depot now reside all that are left of the Mo-
docs. They arrived at Camp Modoc (as their
reservation was named) ten years ago, number-
ing, all told, 156 souls. For eight years there
was a small annual decrease in their numbers
until they fell below 100, counting men, women,
and children. Their present strength is 106.

The reservation consists of 4,000 acres, sur-
veyed into forty-acre lots. - Taken as a whole
it is a fine tract of land, embracing prairie,
timber, upland for farming, low valley land for
hay and pasturage, with an abundance of liv
ing water for stock, good well water wherever
wells have been dug, and stone sufficient for
the necessities of the tribe. The timber is also
heavy enough for sawing and lumbering pur—
poses. Game was formerly plentiful, but is lat-
terly growing scene and wi d. Princess Mar ,
sister to the notorious Captain Jack, is the onl;y
living blood relation be now has among the
Modocs. All his children are dead. One of his
wives is now here, an old, ill-favored squaw,
childless, without relatives or the slightest
tribal influence.

Scarface Charley is a medium-sized man of

about fifty, quick and nervous in manner. He
was working at the saw-mill, rolling logs to the
carriage, and springing about as lively as a
cricket, talking, grinnin , and exhibiting a fine
flow of animal spirit. e is now chief of the
tribe, and not a. little proud of his promotion.
The office exists mainly in name, however. The
young men no longer respect the authority of
a chief, and Charley wisel attempts to exer-
cise none. He is scrupulous y honest in his deal-
ings with white men, has a. fair knowledge of
figures, and can compute the value of a load of
corn or his purchases at a store readily and ac-
curately. ‘
Steamboat Frank is perha s the most notable
man amon the Modocs. He lives in a good,
two-roome frame house toward the north end
of the reservation. It is well-finished, painted,
and furnished. Outside on a block stood a
clean, bright tin wash-basin and a piece of
soap. The school has an enrollment of seven-
teen scholars, these being all the children of
school age in the tribe. Between thirty and
forty Modocs have embraced Christianitygand
are doing as well as white people could in their
condition. The experiment of assisting the
Modocs has proven one of the most satisfactory
in the history of the Indian Department.

“
Focused Pacts.

 

OVER 14,000 men are now employed in the
construction of the Panama Canal. The work
proceeds rapidly. '

ONLY 500 people died in Leadville, 00]., last
year, and an undertaker, in an interview, com—
plains of “ dull business.”

THE Mexican Government has made a con«
tract for the planting of 2,000,000 trees in the
valley of Mexico within four years.

ASH WEDNESDAY will occur on the 27th of
February. Last year it took place on the 7th

of February, and in the ear revious on the
22.1 of February. y p

WITHIN a few years past ninety schools, with
130 teachers, have been planted in the strong
holds of Mormondom with money from New
England and elsewhere.

BEER brewed in 1883: In New York city,
3,239,000 barrels; in Philadel hia, 1023.000; in
Milwaukee, 986.300; in St. ouis. 943,000; in
Brookly 11, 836,000; in Chicago, 676,000.

HERR J OHAN FRANTZ LUTHER heads a colony
of Germans, 500 strong, who are on their way
to southern California, where they will settle
as farmers. They will not even plant vine—

yards, such is their hostility to all that can in-
toxxcatc.

COUR D’ALENE Lake, in Idaho, is 2,000 feet
above the low! of the Pacific Ocean, from which
it is about400 miles distant. About 700 men
are at Eagle Creek, and 150 who are digging
gold from their claims there are said to be
realizing $20 a day each.

A CHINEsE 'oss house, or sacred temple, is to
be erected in eiiver, Col. There are two war-
ring factions Of Celestials in that city, and it is
believed that the temple will have a peaceful
influence OVer them. According to the creed
of the church, all who attend must be friends.
_ THE number of French-speaking inhabitants
in British North America is 1,298,929, of whom
_1.073,820_are in the piovince of Quebec, 1!‘l2.743
in Ontario, 56.635 in New Brunswick, 41,219 in
Nova Scotia. 10,751 in Prince Edward’s Island
9.949 in Manitoba, 2 890 in the Territories, and
916m British Columbia. The French popula-
tion in the provinCe of Quebec increases. while
the English-speaking population is decreasing.
_ STEPS are being taken to hold a convention
in St. Louis or Chicago" at an early day of all
cattle rauchmen of Texas, Indian Ter'ritory
'Kansas, Nebraska, IVyomiug. Dakota and other
I‘erritories to organize a national assmiation
for the general protection Of their interests.
Lvii'culars haVe been sent to all ports of the
country named, and from returns so for re-

 

When suddenly stopped by road~agents, and

ceived the proje ct meets with universal favor.

asked to hold up your hands, it is considered

Strict etiquette now re uires that at five—
o’clock teas all weapons sha 1 be concealed un-
der the coat or in the boots, the latter course
being preferred, as boot-legs are handler to get
at

When invited to a party which you do not
wish to attend, a card of regrets with C. A. O.
C. A. 0. stands

If you wish a man’s permission to pay your
addresses to his daughter, it is allowable to in—
vite him to see you throw a bottle into the air
and shoot a hole through the bottom without
breaking the bottle before making your errand

When at church it is always— But it is not
worth ,while to waste space giving this rule

THE rapid destruction of both deer and buffalo

gen-
tleman writes to the Helena, Mont., Indepen—

“ In gomg down the Yellowstone and across
the vast region lying between Glendive and

This famous region, where, two or

deer Were to be seen on every side, is now to all
For the en-

slaughter of buffalo and deer has been immense

Correspondenls’ Column.

 

cumstances will permit.

MSS. returned unless stamps are inclosed.l

Declined. “Renegade’s Scheme:"
“How It Happened?’ “A Smart Kid;"
Valentine;” ‘

der Ford,” etc; "A orty Splice;’

Cloth of Gold;"
Strike;“ “ Semper Felix.

NAsIIUA. Never saw the quotation before.
marriage.

that series will be given.

FRED B. B. “Western Des )eradoes," 28 to 43.
“Historic Bandits,” 44-52. A! in print.

E. J. P. The half-dollar named is worth twice its
face value if you can find anybody who wants it.

HARRY H. H. We real!
would take long looking or, to find it, we fear.

Doc. S. As the lady is now married on can
properly ask to renew the not uaintance. at
ady friend B. act for on, it nor relations with the
lady are those of true riendsliip.

An'ris'r. See answer to J. D. M. about ebonizln
wood.——You are about average in hight and weigh
for a boy of eighteen—Good pen-and-ink sketches
or drawings are always in demand.

HOBOKEN BILL. We know of no book of instruc-
tions as to the duties of the A praiser’s Department
of the Custom House. Eac department has its
published rules—that is all, we believe.

BILLIE TAYLOR. A valentine is su posed to be
impersonal. If you inclose your car , or ive true
name to the missive, it then is a confesse person-
al expression or declaration of your sentiments.

J. D. M. Drop a little sulphuric acid into a small

uantity of water and bathe the cane-head in it,
t oroughly. Then hold the wood near the fire. It
will become a deep black and take a fine polish.

Ton TEASER. Charles Morris has novels in both
the HALF DIME and BOY’s Libraries. DIME LIBRARY
105 is “Dan Brown of Denver." Dan is a character,
also, in No. l27.——Thank you for your interest in this
paper.

ANGIE V. A busybod y or mischief-maker is a good

rson to be cast out of any circle. The lady did
Jast right. Little society secrets should remain so
and the person who uses them to injure a friend will
soon be discredited and discarded.

HARRY J. R. Answered about the Texas Pan-
Handle in a recent number. Also about the life of
Billy, the Kid—The Dick Talbot stories in DIME
LIBRARY are: 33, 34, 35, 36, 38, 93, 107.—Simply ad-
dress: “ The American News 00., N. Y."

LE ASHEN. Californians pronounce the word YO-
semite as Yo-iem-i-te.——The word Selah is Hebrew,
meaning to be silent. As used in the Psalms it seems
to imply a pause in the reading (or vocalizing) in some
cases; in others seems to imply—“take special no-
tice.’

JOHN KING. Yours is hardly the “ banner town."
The increase Of the list however, is very gratifying.
For a town of six hun ed people to have an order
list Of nearly fifty for our EEKLY speaks well both for
your enterprise as anewsman and for the good sense
of your customers. We will adopt your suggestion
with much pleasure.

YOUNG BADGER. Have answered several times the
question about Washington Territory. It is a very
fine and romising region—a good place for a youn
man to ocate.—We know nothing of the rates 0
fare from Duluth. Consult any general ticket agent.
—-For a capital book on Farming, write to the Or-
ange Judd (30.. N. Y. City—Lori Byron had no bros
them or sisters—dint a half—sister, Augusta.

J. J. Of course a young man who works at a
trade or other manual labor mu keep his hands as
twat and nice as ayoung mun w to Is It clerk. Read
answer to “ Apprentice." It is the proper thing
for you to kccp every )itrt of your body as clean
and nice as possible. (.3 can and symmetrical hands
are Very desirable—A gentleman should not Offer it
lady friend moni- to put in the contributlmrbox at
church. He coulll givo his sister such m’oncy if he
chose.

GEORGE A. M. You make the mistake common to
so many young men. It is not what a man does for
n. living, but how be behaves, that determines whe-
ilierhe is a gentleman or not. No honest work is
disgraceful. It. matters not what your calling may
be, as long as it is honest, if you behave. like a gen-
tleman you will get credit for being one. DO not be
ashamed of your work——if you work faithfully and
welL—but be ashamed of any disagreeable, unamia~
ble, loaferish. coarse habits you may have, and seek
to refine and cultivate yourself.

A. F. K. No. You committed no impropriety in
inclosing your card in a note of apology to the lady,
since you met with so much delay in receiving her
invitation. It would be perfectly correct for on to
call upon her. though your note and card is a. 1 that
is needed as a response to her card.—-Itis not in good
taste to use fancy cards upon New Year or any other
occasion, nor to use a printed card. A written card,
especially if written bv yoursclf. so that it is auto-
graphic, is always allowable. Use a small, fine,
eavy, perfectly plain card upon all occasions.

CARL D. S. Yes: we believe in all young peo le
taking dancing lessons, and that they are especia y
usefu to bashful and awkward young boys. Danc-
ing is not only a healthy and delightful recreation
consistently employed, but it imparts elasticity an
grace to the body, and develops an ability to carry
one‘s self well and to move With case. If you have
the opportunity, and can afford it, by all means take
lessons. In that way you can learn how to enter
and leave a room, proper] , and how to bow. Grace
of bearing is as desirable in a man as in a woman.

TOM D. D. Alcohol is a poison, however slowly it
may work upon the system. A person can die of al-
coholism without ever drinking it. Distillers have
been known to become insane from merely constantly
inhaling the fumes of alcohol while adding it to poor
wines—It is proper to send cards, invitations, regrets,
answers to invitations. etc , by post. In England this
custom is universal, and is growing so here. It is
safer and quicker, as a rule, to trust such things to
the mail than to messengers—Always ask your
hostess, or some one who acts as her assistant, to in-
troduce you to your ris-a-ris in a quadrille.

"Tm " 1. Easter Sunday will conic on the 13th
of April. 2 If you are only twenty-one years old
and the lady is thirty-three, our advice is—not to
marry her. ou might much better be twelve years
older than the lady than rice. I'H'sa. In not more
than one case out. of a hundred would such 9. mar-
riage result lmppily. and we would advise no 'oung
man to take such odds against a. happy life. . . It is
all bosh about engagements being as sacrcd as mar-
ria yes. People have no right to make engagements
wit l the expectation of breaking them, but it is even
worse to consider an engagement biudii‘ig, and to
consummate it, in the face. of good reasons why it
should be broken.

YOUNG ENGINEER. You can only enter West Point
by appointment of your Congressman. Aftcr zip-
pointiucnt by him you have to pass a rigid examina-
tion in primary studies, and also pass the surgeon's
examination as to perfcctness of physique, etc. So
consult. your (.‘ongrcssnutn.~Uinlcr the apportiouv
“Hunt of 1373 it rcqulred 131,425 inhabitants for each
Representative in (longi‘css. This gave the House of
Rt’pl‘t‘sf‘nlutlves 293 members. By the act of Feb.
22d, 1882, the number of the House is inch-used to
325;——'l‘lic State Legislatures elect the U. S. Senators
—-two from each State ——As to the "Electoral Col—
lege,” we cannot licrc explain its whys and whch
forest. Consult any wollinformcd citizen.

APPRENTK‘E. For toothache try putilng bloodroot
upon the tooth and gums.~ We do not think you
foolish that you desiic to im rove- your hands, 31nd
we are glad to help you. ( nly those persons are
foolish who are vain of their uicc lminlsor any other
beauty. Proper pcrsouul pride, um! flue appreclo
anon of iiii-cty and beauty arc. quite different from
Sllly .vanity. Kt't‘p upon your wuslistand a cakc of
pumice soap, sand map, or hand sapollo; also, a
piOCe Of pumice-sumo, ll. bottle of glyccrlne Rm! roe-c.-
water nuxcd in equal iaris (ten or fifteen ccuts'
worth will last you a long time), a nail-brush or
small scrub-brush for scrubbing the ends of the
fingers, and a blunt nail—cleaner (an ivory our is
best, ainl_can be bought. for seven or nine. cents). lu
tlie_niorning scrub your hands well with the brush,
tt'pld water, am! soup, giving much attention to
scrubbing the nails. ltinse With cold water, partially
dry them. and flu-n in the. hollow of one ham! pour
a few drops of the glycei-ine and rose-water and rub
it thoroughly all m'crthchunds. Then dry poi foot ly,
and clean the nails carefully—narci- using 1), sharp-
edged inntruincut like a. knife or scissors bliulc.
\VIII-n vou got home at night. wash your hands well
with Ibc cake of hand sapiilio or sum! soup, and rc-
mm‘c :ill bail stuius by rubbing with the pumice-
slouc. Then rcpent the prowss of the morning.
This treatment will soon iftcu and whiten your
hands, and will keep lllt‘lllsfl‘tnll chopping; out! by
faithful use of pumice-stone and bond supolio Hill
will soon be able to krep your hands cnlirc-ly fre-c
il‘nln grime. Clean your nails many times a day
with n blmzt instrument, am! always after washing
push the encroaching tlosli away from the siilcs and
base of the nails-«also with it blunt instrument.
They will get clean and of it nico shape, and must be

 

kept neatly ll'lllllllt’d—dltlb too short.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
   
   
   
 
 
   
   
  
    
    
   
  
    
  
    
    
 
 
  
   
    
   
   
   
      
      
   
  
   
  
    
  
   
 
 
   
     
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
    
    
 
      
   
 
   
 
  
   
  
    
     
  
  
  
    
   
  
 
  
  
   
    
   
  
  
    
 
  
    
    
  
    
   
  
 
  
       
    
  
  
   
   
    
    
    
   
   
   
    
   
 
   
    
   
     
 
  
   
  
  
  
  
 
        
   
    
 
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
 
   
  
  
 
  
 
   
    
  
  
 
  
   
  
  
  
 
  
   
   
  
   
     
  
  
    
  
 
  
     
    
  
 
 
    
  
   
   
  
 
  
  
   
     

[This column is open to all correspondents. In-
quiries answered as fully and as promptly as cir-
Contributions not entered
as “declined” may be considered accepted. No

“Leap Year
Party;” “Jim Fisk,” etc; “ Native’s Experiences;“
“Tim‘s
Irs. Lan try ln Perl!” “Mary You
“Under the
Yew;" “After a Year;" “A Renewed Youthz"
“All For Threez” “A Well Spring,” etc.; “Babe‘s
“Jolly Pards;" “The Fatness

MRs. E. F. Let the cards be‘sent soon after the

DEA'ra No'rcn. Cannot say how soon another of

don‘t recall the poem. It

your

 

 

 

 

   

  
  

         
 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

   

‘iwlw’ Ii. l!»

 

 

 

 

Fireside Ballads.

THE REJECTED SUITOR

BY ARTHUR GLENN.

9

 

Ye can't have my darter, for I think ye‘d oughtcr
Marry some fine. city girl;

For, what with your foitun‘, and fine ways of

coili‘tin’,
Ye‘d set all their heads in a whirl.
I'm sorry to grieve ye, but my hiss won’t leave me,
Nor the little log house on the hill,
And the rocks and the trees, and the. warm-scented
breeze
That comes up the brook past the mill.

She ain't used to sittin‘ with servants ll’llllallll‘
About at her beck and her call;
Nor tine silks and satin, and French. (lreek, and
Latin,
And mirrors hung ‘round on the wall:
llut never a mirror could be to her dearer
Than yon little rippling rill,
And the rocks and the trees, and the warm-scented
breeze
That comes up the brook past. the mill.

I’ve just talked With Nancy. and both of us fancy
That Jauc bad best bide. with us yet:
And [‘11 keep on tiliin’. and if (loll is willin’
I‘ll manage to clear up the debt.
I know that ye‘d pay it; but if I do say it.
I’ve a strong arm to work, and a will,
For the rocks and the trees, and the warm-scented
breeze
That comes up the brook past the mill.

She‘d long for her flowei s, and the long happy‘hours,
She‘s spent by the mill and the stream:

She‘d mourn for llt: r dairy, her young sister Mary,
The eggs, and the bitter and cream:

And how she‘d be missin' her old n‘iamniy‘s kissin'!
And the birds that she feeds on the sill,

And the rOcks and the trees, and the war;.:i-sccnt.cd

breeze

That comes up the brook past the mill.

She‘d never be happy away from her pappy;
She can’t loVe 'e, capt’in; ye see,
A rich city lover s fine ways are above her;
She wouldn‘t look right ’long side ye.
She‘d best haw a suitor with lain ways to suit her,
Who‘d live with us here. on the hill
Where there’s rocks and there‘s trees, and a warm-
scented breeze.
That comes up the brook past the mill.

You say this life‘s homely. and city life‘s comely:—
I wouldn‘t give this old farm here

For the highest station in this hyar great nation,
Because I'd be out of my sphere!

To me there’s more beauty in doing my duty
Right hyar on the. side of this bill,

Where there‘s rocks and there‘s trees, and a warm-

scented breeze.

That comes up the brook past the mill.

I don’t think there‘s a pleasure in hoarding up treas‘
ure:
And fame but creates foes to harm;
And President Lincoln, to my way of thinkin’,
Had much better stayed on his farm.
Now, don’t think I’m preachiu’: I’m only a-teachin‘
That happiness hangs ’rouud this hill,
And the rocks and the trees, and the warm-scented
breeze
That comes up the brook past the mill.

So fare ye. well, stranger; I’m only a granger.
But I’ve seen my share of this life:
So think this well OVer; I know you‘ll discover
That Jane wouldn’t suit for your wife.
And if ye e'er ha )peli to come this way, capt‘in.
We've got a bet liyar for ye still,
Where there's rocks and there‘s trees, and a warni-
scented breeze
That comes up the brook past the mill.

Little Buckskin,
The Young Prairie Centaur;

on,
Old Klt Bandy, [he llordcr Sleuth.

 

 

llY Old. (‘()OMl4lS, I
All'l‘lltilt til" “ WHIP-KING .ioic," “ iiAiiv sAM,“ i«:'r«:., i-i'ic.

(‘IIAl’TlClt 1V.
S'I‘AR’I‘LINU Nicws.

To llob Malvcrn’s friends Augusta Darre was un-
known, and they were not a liltie. surprised by the
startled expression of the young man at sight of the.
beautiful stranger‘s face.

“ Hob," said Dick Rollins, “what is the matter?
What do you know about this girl?"

“I know her—she is a friend of mine," replied
Maivern, then advancing lie knelt by the side of the
old detective. inquiring: “ Kit. is she dead ‘3”

“ Not quite—only fainted.” Old Kit answered.
“The poor thing! I wonder what‘s gone wrong?
Buckskin, you‘d )etter slip out and throwIeye and
ear wide open, fer I tell you there’s somethm in the
wind.”

Little Buckskin glided from the cabin into the
night to rcconnoitcr the surrounding woods. I

“ Bob. ” demanded Bandy, “ do you know whar this
gal belongs ‘2" I

“Her home is hundreds of miles from here—4n
Kentucky. Her name is Augusta Darre." I

"Darre, did you say?“ suddenly exclaimed Old
Kit; " not the darter o‘ Colonel Zebulon Darre?"

“ Yes, sir,” replied Malvern, “ the same. Do you
know the man?’ I

“I‘ve hearn 0’ him,” curtly replied Bandy; “but
let‘s lay the poor gal on that couchI." I I

Tenderly they lifted the unconscmus girl and laid
her on the pallet of skins in the corner, where, un-
der the tender care of Old Kit, she ere long returned
to consciousness. I

Bob Malvern stood aside after requestingIthe Ioid
man to gently break to her the news of h;s being
present. I I

Rising to a sitting posture and grazing Wildly
around her, the girl cried out:

“ Where am I? where is Jeannette?“ I

“You‘re safe, my little lady,“ assured OldIKit,
kindly; “you‘re safe with friends in the cabin o‘
Buckskin Phil." I

“And Jeannette—is she safe, too?“ repeated the
maiden. I

“ Where did you leave her, Augusta?‘ asked
Bandy. I I I

“ Ali! you know my name?” exclaimed the girl, in
evident sur rise.

“ Yes, a fi'iend of yours is here—an old friend. Do
you know Robert Malvern?“ I I

" Rt tllt'l't Malvern! lle here?" she exclaimed, spring-
in to her feet.

f‘z‘Yes, Augusta, I am here," and Bob Malvern
stood before her. I

A cry, half joy and half anguish, burst from the
maidcii‘s lips, and the next moment she was clasped
in her lover’s arms! I

MaIVern's friends and Old Kit looked upon this
meeting with astonishment. Not one of them knew
the relations that had existed between these two.

It was several moments before any Ione spoke.
Bob Malvern was the first to break the silence.

“ '(lusta, in Heaven‘s name, how came you here?
What is wrong?“ I II I

“Everything, Robert, everythingiI the girl half
sobbcd. “ Mv father, if not dead, is in the hands of
Mes. and odr little Jeannette Zane must be in the
hands of t ic savages that pursur (1 us."

“Then you lied here from Indians, eh?" observed
Old Kit. I II I

" We were pursued," Augusta said. I Will tell

on all so that you may fully understand the situa—

ion: Father and I Were visiting at Zane’s Ranch—I—
in fact, have. been there three weeks. Father s
health has not been very good the past year, and
the doctor advised him to come West and spepd a
few weeks in the climate of Colorado. Rufus [Jane
was father’s old friend, so we went there. Our Visit
has been a very pleasant one until to-day. Father had
been in the habit of riding out every morning, and
was usuallv accompanied by one of Mr. Zane’s men, if
not by Merane himself, orby myself and Jeannette
Zane. This morning he rode out as usual With one
of the ranchinen. Shortly after they left Jeannette
and I saddled our ponies and started on a ramble up
the river. Five miles from the ranch we came upon
the bod of the ranchman, wounded unto death.
He COlllt just speak above a whis )Ier. Brave little
Jeannette dismounted, and, knee mg by his side,
learned from him that four masked men had at-
tacked them. and after shooting him carried father
0!? toward the mountains, a prisoner. The ranch-
man bade us ride back to the ranch for help to pur-
sue the outlaws, and we started at once. As we
neared the ranch we heard yells and the. firing of
guns, and presently came in sight of many Indian;
on the plain and hills surrounding the. ranch, arIIiI
knew they were trying to capture the place. 
venture forward we knew won (I be. dangerous, ant
so Jeannette said we had better flee to the cabin of
Buckskin Phil, and we at once started. On our “fp’
we stopped to see the wounded ranchnian and hi in
him to a place of safety. but he. was dead when we
got back to where he was. So we rode on fast as
our ponies could traVel. It was aIlong, long jour—
ney, and toward evening Jeannette s pony began to
fail. The cabin of Little Buckskin was stiiiI seVeial
miles away, my friend said, when darkness fell. \\ c

rode on as fast as we. could, and suddenly discovered
that we. Were being pursued by horsemen, whom
Jeannette said were Indians. We lashed our ponies
into a gallop and rode for our iiws; but Jeaiinctte's
pony was so near given out. that when the light in
this cabin burst on our gaze the pursucrs were close
upon us. I had held my pony back so that lcould
remain by Jeannette. but w ien she saw that we
would be overtaken, the brave girl told me to go on
and send Littli- Buckskin toher assistance. I dashed
on toward the light, but before I had rone far I
heard my friend‘s scr *am and knew thatt to Indians
had overtaken her. After that [have a vague re-
membrance of leaping from my pony and running
toward the light that shone through the open door
of the cabin that my friend had said was Little Buck-
skin‘s."

“This is the home of Little Buckskin, my dear,”
added MaIVern; “ you fell in a swoon as you entered
the door. Your friend must have. been captured.
llandy. ought we not to call in the boy and tell him
of the state of affaiis?”

“ By all means,” replied Old Kit;
whistle him up."

The old man went out and soon returned with the.
young ilains guide.

Bob Ialvern brietly related tte. news that Augusta
had brought. and when the youth heard of Jean-
ncttc‘s supposed capture, his young heart seemed
almost crushed.

“Friends,” he said, in a voice full of emotion, “I
will go at once in search of Jeannette, if you will
stay and take ‘are of this young lady. The valley
is swarming with red-skins. You will all have to be
careful, and maybe do sortie lively tlgiitin’.”

“Boy, what can you do to‘ard rescuin’ that gal
alone?" demanded Bandy.

“ I can do as much, or more than all of us, for it
will only be by stratzigem that. she can be rescued,
and more than one. might make a blunder that’d de-
feat all my plans "

“ Yes, yes, I know how that is, boy, myself,” re-
turned Bandy: " but we‘ll hold the fort till you re-
turn. We’ve. somethin’ now to fight for besides our
own lives, and we‘ll drench this valley ‘ith blood
afore harm shall come. to this gal. I‘m a hull jungle
full 0' tigers when it comes to flglitin’ for a purty
gal, iiotwithstandin’ domestic infelicity has made
me a storm-scarred monument to a. ouc-A— But, no
matter, Bucksie; I know you‘ll be kecrful, and my
best wishes for your success goes with you."

Taking a pair of revolvers, the youth bade his
young friends good-by and left the cabin. Old Kit
went out with him to stand guard. A faint, far—off
sound fell upon their ears as they stepped out into
the darkness.

“ What war that, Bucksie? Sounded like thunder.”

“ It was thunder, Kit; I not only heard the thunder
when I was out before, but saw faint glimineriugs of
lightning reflected up from behind the mountain
range. I guess we’re goin’ to have astorni. The
air‘s felt like it for a week or more, and if—“

“ Hark l” interrupted Kit.

They listened. The sound of hoof-strokes were
heard out in the timber, going south.

“I’ll go and

 

 

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3’ I


.. l\ ii

Standing erect,

“ By the born 0‘ Joshua! tl.e red devils are stealin'
our hosses, boy i" I

“ Ay! they hurt; stolen them, Kit,” replied the boy.
“Hear! they’re goin’ down the river! They're
making for Buffalo Ford, and I’ll see if I can‘t head
’em off. Kit, watch things closely. Them boys in
the cabin are brave and noble fellows, but they know
nothing of the border and such dangers as now sur-
round us." I

\Vith this precaution the. boy glided away in the
darkness, going down the Arkansas. I

Like a deer he sped along with an almost nmseless
tread. It was two miles to the. crossing, and al-
though lie made. the distance in a few minutes, he
was not in time to head off the thieves. They were
just. disappearing on the opposite shore as he came
in sight of the ford.

The moon was shining, yet he was unable to as-
certain the number of the savages in charge of the
horses; but, determined not to lose his noble. horse
without another effort to rescue him, he ran back
up the. river a short distance to where he had
beached an old dug-out that he kept for his own use,
and dragging the clumsy canoe into the water, he
pushed out for the opposite shore. In a few min-
utes he had landed on that side, and at once struck
out on the trail of the red scavengers.

He knew eVery foot of the country for twenty
miles around, and that the trail taken by the sav-
ages trended away into the hills, narrowing from Ia
wooded valley into a deep, blackI canyon. This
knowledge of the country enabled Ihnii to take somIeI.
advantages of the Indians by cutting “ across lots,
and before he was aware of the fact himself, be. dis-
covered that lie was in ahead of the foe. He also
discovered that his and the ainateurs’ horses were
not all that the foe. had in charge, but that there
were fully two hundred head in the dIrove!

This discovery convinced the boy that the savages
had raided the horse. ranch of Rufus Zane. T0 at-
tempt to retake them he knew would be the sheerest
folly, for he felt satisfied that there was a large
force of Indians in charge. But. he was deiei'iniued
to have his own horse, and so hurried on in advance
of the «how, trying to devise some means by which
his object could be. accomplished. I

In the mean time the. air was growmg more hu-
mid. A dark line of clouds had pushed up above
the mountain range along whose serrated edges
sheet lightning played incessantly. The low thun-
ders growled ominously among the mountains. I

Keeping on in advance of the hors< s,Buckskin
finally entered the canyon. A shudder paSsed over
him as he thought of the dangers to be encountered
from the sudden bursting of the stormIand the flood
that might be hurled into the narrow rift. The same
thouglit'seemed to have filled the minds of the red-
skins, for their voices were leame distinct urging
forward the horses. Buckskin heard them come
thundering tip the pass, that was now not over
twenty feet in width, antIl instantly a thought seemed

ave entered his mint . I
to(Ilrouching like a panther in the shadowsIhc await-I
ed the approach of the foremost horse.I Like a deer
it came sweeping along, and then opposxte the boy
he sprung out like a Gift from his concealment and

.' .d the animal b t ie mane.

S’ellzeith a wild snort3the beast plunged forward, drag-
ging the young daredevil at its Side. I It was an un-
broken innstang mare. spirited and Vic10us. It made
a series of frantic lunges in its mad endea vIors tIo I'ldI
itself of its burden, but, instead of freeing itself
from the boy’s grasp, it suddein found him upon
its back. where he had lauded by a spring such as
caiiZbe accomplished only by the most caring and
‘ 'il ul horseman.

kalife animal now became frantic, and plunged for-
ward with renewed speed, cher and anon rearing
straight into the air and striking out y'iciously With
its fore-feet and uttering a Sound that was almost a

. leued scream. I I I I
mli‘ilnding its efforts to dislodge its rider unavaihng
the wild horsc finally settled down to a steady run.

 

 

Swift as a deer it glided along the canyon gaining
upon the rest of the drove at ever ' bound, the Boy
Centaur clinging ti its back as ,aJough he Were a
part of it. On through the pass, now lit up with the
glare of lightiiingrauow black in gloom, sped the un-
bridled beast with its daring rider. while on behind
came. the others, the roar of their cluttering hoofs
illnigst rivaling that of the thunder that rolled over-
iea .

Deeper and deeper the canyon grew. and this Lit-
tle Buckskin knew would continue for miles before
an exit could be made. The further be advanced
into the bills the more dangerous the. boy knew the
way would become, but he was anxious to reach a
certain spot where. he hoped to stop the flight of the
horses by blockading the passage. It was a place
where a good-sized opening gradually narrowed to a
rift where but two or three horses could pass abreast.

As he approached this place he threw himself for-
ward upon his pony's llt ck and clasped his hands
over its nostrils to bring it to a stop. But. there was
no need of that for at the same moment a stream of
hot blood burst from each of the animal‘s nostrils, it
slackencd its pace, staggered, fell to its knees and
then sunk down a quivering heap!

Little Buckskin sprung from the pony as it went
down and ran on and entered the mouth of the nar—
row passage he had been endeavo-ing to reach. and
pressing his form into a niche in the wall he drew
his revolver determined to block the way with dead
horses!

The head of the flying drove soon glided into the
opening beyond, and side by side three of them
dashed on and plunged into the passage where they
became Wedget as tightly as though driven there by
a mighty thunderbolt.

The beasts began a desperate struggle, but before
they could extricate themselves Buckskin ran for-
“ a rd and shot each of them (lead. The poor brutes
were so firmly wedged in between the walls of the
canyon that they could not fall even when dead.
Their heads drooped forward and their hind ( tiar-
ters sunk slightly. Horses coming up behind en-
deavored to leap clear over the dead ones, and two
or three of them would have succeeded but for the
revolver of Little Buckskin. Thus were other car-
casses piled upon the three, making the blockade of
the can 'on complete.

In a ew moments the whole drove was corraled
in the pass. Yells and shouts that seemed to issue
from a hundred savage throats endeavored to force
the horses forward. The animals became fairly
wedged between the adamautine walls. They
crowded and fought, and reared and plunged. At
times a more active one seemed to climb upon the
very backs of the others, lunge forward, and then
sink down a sin in the mad vortex.

Little Buc 'skin calmly climbed upon the dead
carcasses that closed the ass. and looked down
over the seething caldron 0 animals to which the
glare of the lightning lent a frightful aspect.

Fully twenty rods separated the boy from the
savages, and a smile passed over his face when he
saw that it would be impossible for the foe to make
their way through that solid mass of plunging beasts;

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nor Could they scale the perpendicular walls of the
canyon and come in upon him from the rear.

“Oh, small-pox take you!” the young dare-devil
exclaimed. “ I’ll stay here till you yell your fangs
sore. if any of these bosses leave here they‘ve got
to go the other way. Ha! ha! [wish Old Kit was
here now! I‘m old Leonidas bisself, holding the

ass—"

p His musin s were here interrupted b a yell in the
pass above im, and looking around 9 saw in the
glare of the lightning fully a dozen savages coming
toward him.

How they had come them he could not imagine,
i or (lid he stop to inquire, for he had not a moment
to lose. The savages had set n him, and like coyotes
dashed toward him

Turning, the boy leaped from where he stood upon
a dead horse to the back of the nearest living one.
The animal att ~mpted to shake off its burden. Hit it
was so hampered and crowded that its efforts were
but feeble.

The savages coming down the canyon uttered a
fierce yell, anti were answered by those below.

The situation of Little I uckskin was indeed criti-
cal. but never at a loss for an expedient, the boy
rose to his feet on the back of the pony. bounded
over onto the back of another, and thus ran several
rods down the. canyon over the backs of the sure:-
ing. seething mass, finally dropping astride of a
mustang to await the lightning‘s flash. in hopes of
picking out his own horse from among the madden-
ed drove of ponies. He had not long to wait. A
prolonged flash of lightning that fairly dazed the
boy at first. lit up the defiic. He glanced around
him, and quickly espied his own horse further down
the canyon, towering up like a giant above the
ponies. I

Springing to his feet, the lad starlet! toward him——
again walking, crawling, and leaping along over the
backs of the animals. He was but a few paces from
his horse when he was suddenly startled bv the
preSence of a lithe Indian warrior. who, with the
agility of a panther, came bounding along over the
backs of the ponies toward him. the look of a trium-
pliant demon upon his face. There was no chance
for the boy to elude him— no time to draw a wea-
pon.but, standing erect, Little Buckskin grappled
with the warrior in a hand-tO-hand death—struggle
there upon the very back of that seething whirl~
pool of maddeued, terrified horses.

And at this very moment a vivid tongue of fire
shot down into the canyon from out of the black-
browcd heavens, a pea! of terrific thunder shook the
very hills. and then an awful, blinding darkness
settled over all.

 

CHAPTER V.
A BRAVE Boy‘s DESPERATE DEED.

Bon MALVERN and Augusta Darre sat down in the
humble cabin, and entered into conversation, the
other three amateurs having joined Old Kit on the
outside. I

“ Augusta. this is rather an unexpected meeting.”

Robert thus opened the way for explanation and
the information he was heart-sick to obtain. I

“ Yes, Robert,” replied Augusta, “ and under Cir-
cumstances far more trving than was our parting
two years ago. Oh! how sad I was that day! And
what weeks and months of grief I have passed
through since then! If I could only have heard
from you. Robert, perhaps I should have been hap-
pier; but I have virtually been kept a prisoner until
we started West. Paul Dumont has been away
from Kentucky most of the time since you left: but
the time for our marriage has been fixed three
months hence.”

" Indeed? Then your father is unrelenting?"

“He is a strange man, Robert," the maiden re-
plied: “but poor father! I am afraid something
dreadful has bei'allen him.“

“ As soon as morning dawns. Augusta. search will
be made for bozli him and the girl, Jeannette. In

 

 

fact, I believe Little Buckskin is now off in the search
for her. "

“ What a sweet, vivacious, yet daring girl Jean-
nette is." Augusta remarked. “She is but fifteen.
yet a woman in form and a girl in spirit—the idol of
Zane's Ranch. For years have the Zanes lived in
the Arkansas valley, and yet this is the first time
that dangers from the Indians have befallen them,"

“ Tins outbreak is rather a surprise to everybody,"
added Illalvern. “ Old Kit and Little Buckskin think
it is caused by the encroachnients of miners and
ranchnien u JOI) Indian territory, but. it looks to me
as though it was the result of flendishness~the
natural love of the rcd skin for human blood. But.
Augusta, your father is known to Kit. Bandy. and
when I mentioned his name a while ago the old (le-
tectiVe manifested no little surpi ise.”

“Indeed? I never heard father mention such a
name.

At this juncture Clark Lewis and Field Lawrence
reenteer the cabin and announced to Bob the fact
of the. Indians having stolen their horses.

“ Well, what next 1” was the response. “Boys, it
begins to look as though we were to be the. hunted
instead of the, hunters.“

“ Yes; Old Kit says for us to keep the. cabin door
closed and our revolvers within reach.“

“ Where is the. old dodger?“

“He and Deck are scouting around through the
timbcrin hopes of finding that other young lady. He
thinks she escaped the savages and is hiding away
in the darkness. Deck has trozen solid to the eccen-
tric old codger»—tliiiiks he is immense.“

“ He may be a brave man, a shrewd detective, but
he‘s a colossal liar,” avei-red Lawrence, who had a
bluff, outspoken wa of expressing himself.

Meanwhile, Old Kit and young Rollins were mov-
ing cautiously through the. sparse growth of timber
which, at this point, lined the Arkansas.~ They
worked their way down the river, the young ama-
teur observing such a degree of skill and silence as
to call forth a compliment from the keen old border-
man.

They kept on down the stream until they had
reached a point within half a mile of the ford where
the Indiansbad crossed with the stolen horses, when
Old Kit suddenly stopped within the shadows, and
pointing over toward a little island in the moonlit
riVer, said:

“ Look there, lad. do ye. see that, eh ?”

The island in question was about twenty rods away.
It was a long, narrow strip covered with low, dense
bushes, with a rocky promontory rising a few feet
above the water, at the lower extremity.

The object to which Kit called the boy’s attention
was the shadowy form of an Indian who disappeared
in the bushes just as he sooke.

“ I see nothing but an island,” was Deck’s reply.

“By the born 0’ Joshua! I see’d an Ingin slip into
the bushes over there, and, jist like as not, there’s
haydoogins 0’ them concealed there waitin’ for to
do deviltry. And, jist like as anyway, again, that
gal Jeannette is there in their power.”

“ How are we going to find out?”

“Stay by ’em till they show their colors, or till

 

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this river freezes over. That’s the way we can work
it, lad. A man that’s 5 cut twenty years dodgin’
the wrath o’ a red-heade woman can’t be outgine-
ruled by a smoke-skin—not much !”

“ It looks as thou b there was going to be a heavy
storm," suggested eck. “and if there is, I should
think the red-skins would want a better shelter than
that island affords.”

“It's goin’ U) storm, I should proclamate, and if
that girls not on the island I should like to see old
Jove heave a thunderbolt into them bushes over
there, and splatter them smoke-skins all over the
commonwealth 0‘ Colorado!”

Already the storm—clouds had advanced above the
mountain range. black and ominous, and yet the
moon was shining, and the whole of the eastern sky
was clear. There was an incessant roll of thunder
and flashing of lightning, yet Old Kit and Deck paid
little attention to these until the moon became 0b-
scured and a dense darkness followed. Then it was
that they were only enabled to keep their watch
upon the island by the occasional glare of the light-
ning: but this proved very unsatisfactory to Old Kit.
Feeling certain that the res! nce even of a single
Indian on the island was 0 sufficient importance to
bear investigai ion, be resolved to remain at his post
until the desired information was obtained.

For hours they continued their watch. The wind
changed to the north and blew damp and cold. Off
in the distance they could hear a deep and sullen
roar like the mighty rush of waters, and as no rain
had yet fallen, and that strange sound grew nearer,
Old Kit finally sprung to his fat. saying:

“ By the born 0’ Joshua! that sound is surely the
roar 0' an advancing torrent! It’s been rainin’ aw-
ful up in the bills, or else a mighty water-spout has
bursted on the upper range and has been discharged
into the Arkansaw. If so, you‘ll see this stream
bank-full in less’n an hour."

“ There’s something coming, that‘s sure, "’ was Rol-
lins‘s decision.

“It‘s a torrent, boy; you can‘t fool me. Just lis-
ten! I tell you she’s an old boomer! Keep yer eyes
peeled—ah! there it comes, boy! an old ripper with a
texrfoot header!"

True enough! In the lightning‘s glare young Rol-
lins beheld a mighty wave extending from shore to
shore rolling down the river from above them. It
came with fearful rapidity, bearing upon its breast
great trees and logs, and swept past them with a
roaring, rushing, crackling sound.

Old Kit and Deck involuntarily started back as it
glided past them.

“Lord, but she’s a roarer!" exclaimed the old ad-
venturer. “ D’ye hear that strange noise, lad? ’l‘hat‘s
the cracklin’ 0‘ trees and logs and even stones that
she’s grindin’ together— Moses!"

Agleam of fig: tning revealed to their gaze the
river almost ban ’-full. The island before them was
nearly submerged, and, as the noiSe of the. rushing
torrent receded down the river, their ears were
greeted by a wild cry~a shriek of despair coming
from over the water.

“ By the born that started old Jericho !” cried Old
Bandy, "ihat war that gal's scream. and it come
from the island! The poor thing! I suspected that
she might be there, but, what on God‘s earth can we
do to save her?"

At this juncture the whole heavens seemed to
burst into a blaze of fire. The mad, rushing river
lay revealed to their gaze. and upon its bosom near
the island, they saw half a dozen savage forms
struggling around a long log canoe as they were he-
lllL’ swept down the stream. And upon the rocky
promontory jutting out from the. lower end of the
island the two men saw a female form standing
erect, her long hair floating in the wind and her
hands clasped over her breast.

Nor was she alone. A huge, shaggy animal sat
upon its liaiinches upon the rock scarcely ten feet
from her. It was a bear that the flood had driven to
the rock of refuge

The woman stood at the very extremity of the

 

point. The water was within two feet of the top
of the rock and rapidly rising. A few minutes more
and both she and the bear must be swept away.

I’lliIe scene was liidced terrible. The. vivid light-

ning s fiery tongues seemed to lick the very waters
around the island, while deafening peals of thunder
crashed overhead.
I The bear, crouching at the woman’s feet, snapped
its white. teeth at the lightning and slunk down at
the sharp peals of thunder in abject terror. It paid
no attention to the slender figui e behind it, but,
blinded by the lightning, and deafened by the thun-
der, it crouched there for several minutes, then
rolled Iofi“ into the flood and was swept away.

Rapidly the river rose until the woman seemed
standing on the very surfate of the stream.

Again and again she slirieked wildly for help.

I My God, boy!“ finally exclaimed Old Kit, throw-
ing aSide his hat: " it‘ll be death to attempt to stem
that flood: but, heavens knows, I can‘t (lie in a bet-
ter cause! Boy, if 1th go down in that flood, and
you ever meet one Ichabod Flea, my old pard, tell

iin how I—”

“ Look yonder, Kit ! What does that mean?” sud-
denly interrupted Deck Rollins.

Down along the opposite shore of the river he saw
a drove of animals flying like the wind.

“ It’s it drove 0’ horses!" cried Kit, “and, as sure
as the Lord’s mv Judge, there is a rider on the back
of one of them l“

I The imperiled woman, too, saw the horseman, for,
lifting her hands, she shrieked aloud for help.

The horseman heard her and drew rein, or rather
stopped his horse by command, for neither bridle
nor saddle was upon it.

“By the born 0’ Joshua!”
horseman is Little Buckskin! Hurrah for the Young
Centaur! See! he turnsu the river! He. has dis-
covered the girl on the roc l”

True enough the horseman turned and galloped
up the river. Twenty or thirty rods above the
is and he halted, turned, and then leaped his horse
into the roaring, wild flood.

“ Mighty heavens!” exclaimed Bandy; “ the young
dare-dew! has plunged into the river and’s swimmin’
his boss to the woman’s rescue! May the Lord help
the fearless boy !”

“ The wild, reckless fellow! he’ll never get out of
that l" declared young Rollins, almost paralyzed by
the scene before him.

As the horse and rider plunged into the mad river
they sunk from sight under the waves. But soon
the watchers on the bank saw them rise to the sur-
face a am, and strike out into the stream.

IGra iially the current carried them down the
river, but the Young Centaur, for he the daring
horseman really was, had made ample calculations
on this when he went back tip the river.

IOn and on the horse struggled with its rider—now
rismg and falling amid t e currents and waves—
dodging among the floating déhris—guided only by
the hand of its rider that lay upon its mane.

In breathless awe and suspense Old Kit and oun
Rollins watch the struggle, amid the glaring light and
blinding darkness that alternate upon the terrible
scene.

Closer and closer to the shrieking girl the youth
approaches. He is heard shouting some words of
encouragement to her. He has now reached the
island, whose location is only marked by the top of
the shrubbery upon it. Now he is alongside the
rock! Ten feet further and the girl will be reached.

But at this moment blinding darkness envelops
the river.

A wild scream pierces the air.

Suddenlfv there came an intense glare of lightning,
instantly ollowed by a clap of thunder that shook
the very earth. Half-stunned by the shock, Old
Kit and Deck reeled backward. A great bough
came crashing down from overhead, and fell where
they had stood, riven from the trunk by the light-
niiig’s bolt!

“ By the horn that tooted under Jericho‘s walls!”
exclaimed Old Kit, “that was a close call, b0 . But,
I wonder how goes the struggle with Buckskin?”

They walked back to the river-bank and gazed
down over the seething waters, but nowhere upon
the flood could they see horse, boy or maiden.

They ran along the shore and shouted the name
of Buckskin, and fired a revolver. But all was silent,
save the rush of the river and crash of thunders.

“ It‘s all up with the boy," said Old Kit, sadly.

Still they continued on down the river, although
all hope had died in their breasts.

The storm gradually receded in the distance and
the intervals between the lightning’s flash grew
longer.

But a few drops of rain had fallen, save far up
the river, and there the flood-gates of heaven had
been thrown wide open.

The continuous darkness finally put an end to Old
Kit and Rollins’s search for the. boy and girl, and
turning they wended their way back toward the
cabin, and by the time the two weary scouts had
reached the little log inclosure the nioou was out
again and all was quiet save the roar of the river
hard by and the muttering of the storm in the dis-
tance.

" What news do you bring. Kit ?” asked Bob Mal-
Vern, anxiously, as the two scouts entered the cabin.

' Sad news—nothin’ but the ver worst,” was the
old (lctective’s reply, and then ie sat down and
gently broke to his friends the news of the sad fate
of Little Buckskin and the girl, Jeannette.

Sorrow bowed every head and tears dimmed every
eye.

After a few moments of silence Bandy arose and
walked to the door and looked out. The sound of
a horse’s hoofs fell upon his ears. It was approach-
ing. A moment later a horseman drew up before
the cabin. Old Kit threw the door wide open. The
light within streamed out upon the horse and rider.
A wild cry of joy then burst from Bandy’s lips, for
upon the horse sat Little Buckskin, the Boy Centaur,
holding in his arms the half-inanimate form of J can-
nette Zane!

cried Old Kit, “that

 

CHAPTER VI.
THE DEATH POOL.

" BUCKSKIN lives! Buckskin lives!" shouted Kit
Bandy, and his words falling upon the ears of his
friends in the cabin, elicited ringing shouts from the
lips of the young amateurs.

"Yes, Kitsie,” replied the oung hunter, “I man-
aged to pull through red-s in ranks and roaring
floods, and I not only got my good horse back, but I
rescued Miss Jeannette. Here, lift her down, Kit;
she's almost dead with terror and cold.”

Tenderly the old man assisted the maiden to the
ground and conducted her into the cabin where she
was, with a cry of joy, clasped in the arms of

Augusta Darre,

“Oh, Jeannette, my darling! I thank God you
are safe! But, child, you are wringing wet.”

“ I have just come out of the river, Gusta,’ replied
the darkeycd beauty; “ Buckskin Phil rode in after
me. and we had a terrible time of it before we es-
capcd.”

“ Then the Indians overtook you?” asked Augusta.

“ Yes, the dirty wretches caught me and took me
in an old canoe over to a little island in the river, but
the flood bounced them, I tell you, and when they
had to scramble for their lives t my left me to take
care of myself: but I almost laughed, Giista, when I
saw a wave upset their canoe and spill them out
into that awful flood. To escape the rush of the
water I climbed upon a big rock, and don’t you
think a big bear climbed up after me, and I expect
if he hadn‘t been afraid of the thunder andlightning
he and I‘d have had trouble. He would snap at the
lightning and strike at it. and then, when it would
thunder, he would crouch down, and at last he slip-
pcd. I guess. and tumbled off into the swift-rushing
water. Then you had ought to have heard me
scream, Gusta!”
"I hearn you, you little minx,” declared Old Kit,
completer astounded at the child’s calmness of
spirit and clearness of mind after what she had just
passed through: “I hearn you,” continued Bandy,
“ and thought it war a young painter.”
Jeannette burst into a pealof merry laughter, and
turning to Augusta asked:
“ Who is that queer old coon, Gusta ?"
Augusta could not help smiling, and for an answer
sliegave the maiden a formal introduction to Old
Kit. also to those of the amateurs who were pres-
cut.
The old detective, and the boys, too, were delight-
ed with the girl’s pretty face, her sparkling eyes, and
childish figure. They saw at once that she was one
of those rare types of girlhood in which are com-
bined a wild, vivacious spirit, a kind, fearless heart
and a quick, active brain—in short, a merry—hearted
little madcap.
Little Buckskin secured his horse near by and then
entered the cabin, hatless and dripping wet.
“ Here comes another drowned rat,” cried Old Kit,
as the b0 ' entered.
“Yes, ’in slightly moist, Kitsie, but I’ve been in
some awful wet water lately.”
“ I should proclamate, boy! I seed the hull 0’
your wild ride up to the time you reached the rock
on which that gal stood, and as I couldn’t see any-
thing of you after that, I supposed you’d gone down
in the waves.”1
“01), but I had the worst time getting my horse
away from the Ingins,” Buckskin replied. “I got
in ahead of the reds and hurrying on to a narrow
place in the canyon proceeded to block the way by
shooting horses as t ey came up. After I got the
dr0ve stopped and CIOSely packed into the canyon,
down swept a lot of Ingins from above, and I had to
scatter. I jumped over onto a pony and run along
on the backs of the herd, for they were wedged in
there so close that you couldn't have dropped a bul-
let to the ground. To my surprise I met an Ingin
that come prancing over the. drove from below. and.
right there, we locked horns on the backs of them
horses. Down we went, and it‘d have made. your
heart break to see our heels twinkling round among
them ponies. The critters got scared at the rumpus

 

on their backs, and they made a lunge, a gap was

 

 

 

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i
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.M

  
  

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made, and we two warriors leaked through to the
ground. As luck ’d have it, a mustang (“0V6 51, £00“
into the red-skin's stomach and he curled up like 8.
Sick bear. Then I jumped to my feet, and after a
few minutt's’ squeezing l 8033 We" on") a PM”:
crawled alone over the terd till 1 come to my Own
horse, which I drOpped astride of. and [hen Speak'
ing to hitn he turned and waded .through them
ponies like a bquan through mist. Tue Whole
drove fellatved; the blockade was broken, and away
want the whole gang pell-mell, clatter-tc-clatter,
with a rush and a j-tmp, down the canyon-Over I!"
gins, uver rocks, over brush—through the gloom—-
through the blaze of lightning—With the rear and
hang of thunder to chwr them on. On we_ went, all
together, till we reached the river, and until I heard
Jeanneue there,.whi5pering for help, when I left the
drove and set sail to her rescue and— \\ ell. here
we all are. I‘m sorII'y I (lliélg’t set your horses. Bob.
r n the best cou .

bQPCflgogrse you did, L‘uckskin. Don’t lethhe loss
of our ponies trouble you, my brave boy, replied
Malvcrn. I think that you now deserve a little rest,
both of b-idv and mind.” _ “

“He‘s tougher nor a blacksnake whip, assured
Old Kit; “but let him pass through .a few years 0
married life with a screech-owl, and it. won’t be long
tillhe will begin to look like an Aztec rum. Give
me a nest o’ wild-cats, a grizzle bear, a cyclone—
anything but a struggle with a Sabina Bandy.
Buckskin, take my advice and never git married——
never fall in lovs with a gal!" .

Buckskin’s face flushed slightly at this. and when
he and Jeannette were. seen to exchange glances,
Bob Malvern disc0vered that the whnnsrcal old
detective was treading upon more sacred ground
than be had suppOsed, or, in other words, that his
adv ice had come too late! Buckskin loved Jean-
nette, for this was not. the first time they had met.
However, the young hunter accepted.K_tt‘s advice
good-naturally, and retired to the adjeirnng room
to exchange ms wet bu3kskin for a dry suit.

The room with a fireplace, With a roaring fire on
the hearth. was given up to Augusta and Jeannette.
when the latter proceeded to thy her clothing as
well as circumstances would permit. ,

Oll Kit. Litre Buckskin at (1 Bob Malvern finally
sat dewn to discuss the situation. The abductmn of
C ilnne! Darre was the question that now came up.
Little Buckskin and Bob Malvern expressed their
opinions regarding the matter quite freely. Old Kit
listened to them until they were through, then
said:

“ Boys, I think you‘re both off your base—on a cold
trail. I believe he has fallen into the hands of Utah
Bill and his band of cut-throats. I am even now,
boys—but mum’s the word—in these parts lookin‘
up a case in which Colonel Zebulon Darre figures to
a certain extent, and if I succeed you’ll hear some-
thin’ drop hefty-like down in Old Katntuck. But I
never dreamer! e’ the colonel bein’ up hereaways,
and it may be dashed unfortunate for him that he
is. "

“ I can’t imagine what trouble he is involved in,
Kit,” remarked Malvern, not a little surprised by
the old detectives words.

“Time will tell, perhaps," answered Bandy. “I
had a part 0’ the case pre-‘ty well worked up, but
this new trouble may mix things up again. The fust
thing we do we‘d better see if we can‘t find the old
man. But, here arises another question: what’ll
we do with these two little gals? We can’t leave
’em here; it won’t do to send ’em home alone.
and it‘ll work a great hardship on them to take
them along.”

" I would suggest that the girls decide the matter
themselves in the morning,” was Malvern’s preposi-
tion.

“ 'I‘hat‘ll do,” Old Kit assented.

The matter was thus settled, for the time being.

A close watch was kept over the cabin during the
entire night.

At daylight the next morning two rancheros from
Zane’s Ranch arrived at the cabin in search of the
missing girls and Colonel Darre.

They reported the country along the way clear of
Indians, and after the situation had been fully dis-
cussed, the maidens concluded to return to the
ranch with the rancheros, whom Jeannette knew to
be brave and trusty men.

Little Buckskin gave them his horse to ride. for
not one of the o‘her horses had yet been recovered.

With many kind wishes for each ether's safety,
the maidens finally took leave of their gallant
friends and lovers, and with the rancheros started
down the valley.

In less than an hour afterward Old Kit, Little
Buckskin, and the four amateurs were moving up
the river toward the mountains.

The old detective had his reasons for believing
that Colonel Darre had been carried ofi’ info the
mountains by the followers of Utah Bill, and while
he was ignorant of the exact whereabouts of the
outlaw‘s stronghold, he was satisfied as to the course
in which it lay.

Night found them far advanced into the hills.
They went into camp on the banks of the Arkansas.
They passed the night in rest and quiet, and early
the next morning resumed their journey.

They soon came to the mouth of alarge creek,
known at that time as Black Water, and as they
could not cress it, Old Kit said:

“ Boys, we’ll have to feller this creek several miles
afere we can cross, but it ’11 not be much outen our
way, after all ”

So they turned up the creek, and at noon stopped
upon its banks t) rest and partake of a cold dinner.

Up the stream could be heard a sullen roar of wa-
ter, and, filled with curiosity, Bob llIalvern said:

“Boys, I’m going to run up there and look at that
waterfall while you fellows are eating, for I’m not
at all hungry.”

So he took up his rifle and departed. A few min-
utes’ walk brought him to where the creek made an
abrupt bend, and at this point he found—not a cas-
cade, but a rapids, down which the water rushed
with fearful velocity and plunging against the rocky
bank in the angle of the stream rolled under itself,
thus producing a continuous roll and boil of the an-
gry waves that in the shadows seemed appalling.
At sight of the mighty caldron, Bob Malvern
started back and grasped the bough of a pine tree.
The swift, swirling roll and boil of the flood was
possessed of a horrible fascination that at first well
nigh overcame him and dragged him into its em-
brace. r

Recovering his composure, Malvern gazed in won-
der and amazement upon the water. He saw sticks,
logs of wood, and even rocks rolled over and underin
that continuous swirl of the flood. and suddenly the
young hunter started, and a cry of horror burst
from his lips. for he saw what he was certain was a
human form thrown up by the undercurrent of the
whirlpool, shot forward on the surface and again
burie under the rolling waves!

Fora minute Bob llfalvern stood like one trans-
fixed with horror. Had he really seen a human
form? Had some unfortunate hunter or miner been
drawn by the mystic ower of the whirlpool into its
embrace and there he d and tossed and toyed with
as a cat does with a. mouse?

These were the (Anestions that revolved through the
young man’s min , and the more he pondered them
over, the stren zer became his conviction that he was
laboring under both a mental and an optical delusion.
So he turned and walked away a few paces, passed
his hand over his brow. and then laughed to himself
to think that he had permitted the solitude of the
place and the dizzy whirl and roll of the whirlpool
to fill his mind with such horrible vagaries. And,
to make sure that he had co n letely shaken off the
spell, he turned and walked be dly back to the edge
of the creek.

As he did so a human form standing upright, with
one arm exten'le(l clutching a short stick, the eyes
sunken and hollow, the bearded face ghastly, the
hair and tattered garments dripping, rose half out
of the water, and with the rapidity of the current
advanced toward him a few feet, Ihr n it was quikay
sucked downward by the undercurrent from sight,
the extended hand seeming to strike out at him as
the body disappeared. Nor was this all; a short,
black log popped upward out of the water, fell with
aloud plush tnd then disappeared, closely followed
by a second lifeless human form whose throat was
ctlutltéhed by one hand as if in a death-struggle with
1 se. .

Bob Malvern started anew with a shudder of her-
ror. There was no mistaking the evidence of his
senses now. The black whirlpool was a. placa of
death—holding within its embrace the body of its
victims, with which it seemed to play and sport with
devilish delight.

Almost sick at heart the young man turned from
the horrible scene, and began to retrace his steps,
back to his frien'ls.

He had gone. but a few paces when the figure of a
m ll) glided from behind a rock and confronted hitn.

He stopped short and started back. The man be-
fore th'im was his rival and sworn enemy, Paul Du-
mon .

(To be continued—commenced in N0. 67.)

_—___

 

Plantation Philosophy.

 

IN dis life al’ers try to he‘p a man up do bill.
He ken go down by hisse‘f.

EF heahen is de place whut de preachers pic-
tur' it, dar ain‘t much ’tcntment dxr. l'ur dar‘s
nebrlr no res” \vhar gnl’ ls: howeber, so fur :12 I
is consarnel at (its time, I‘d ruthcr hub a lectle
more gol’ an’ nor quite s) much res”.

IT am said (ht do soun’ o’ (la human voice tells
yer SUL'IIIII, 0’ de nutur’ 0‘ lie pusson: but dis
doan allus work, fur tie sweetesfisingin‘ ’ot‘ran I
eber see‘rl was nus’ den 0. hornet. D} culvcan-
thus sntcfls miqu v saw-tat, bu“ put it in \‘cl‘
mouf an‘ chaw If an‘ it tastes wus’ den quinine.

 

 

lluunmnmull'llmu-'

3

SOME DAY.

BY ABBIE c. M’KEEVER.

 

Some day, I know, the flowers will grow,
Upon the hillsides white With snow.

Some day the solemn undertone
Of wintry winds will cease their mean.

Some day the woodland trees all bare
\\ ill dainty dress of summer wear,

And orchard trees and roadside thorn
Strive for the palm of beauty worn.

Some day the heart now tired. and spent
With all life’s strife and weariment,

Will evermore glad anthems sing _
In that fair world where Christ 15 King.

And may I hope, and dare I pray
That perfect rest to find some day!

 

 

illd Pep Hicks, Showman;

Lion Charley’s Luck.

A TALE 0F CIRCUS RIVAthY.

 

BY CAPT. FRED VVHITTAKER,

AUTHOR OF “ PARSON JIM,” “ JOHN ARMSTRONG,
MECHANIC,” ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER XIX.
KING PHILIP ON A TEAR.

EARLY ,next morning a party of men, with
pitcht'orks, geads, ropes and chains, set out to
undertake the recapture of King Philip, the
wild and runaway elephant who had given so
much trouble. I '

Elephant Jim, with his arm in a sling, a scowl
of mingled mor ification and pain on his dark
face, rode at the head of the party in Bewnsse’s
vellow dog-cart, driven by no lessa person than
Mr. Bewnsse himself, while Stone rode on horse-
back among the other men, and seemed to be‘
giving directions. . _

For Elephant Jim had actually lost his grip
on King Philip at last.

As the madriened brute rushed away, when
he first broke loose, he had sent Jim flying with
a side kick, in the confusion.

“ No, 1’“ bet he didn’t see me,” Jim was say-
ing, in a. lachrymose tone, to the manager, as
they drove on. “ He never would ha’ done it,
if he‘d see’d me to know me. It was them ga-
loots as startei in to burn him on their own
book as made the hull rumpus.
know who give ’em leave afore Icome. I’d fix
him.”

Bewnssc said nothing to irritate him, for he
was more than half afraid of Elephant Jim, but
he winked ever at Stone, who was the party in
question, and Stone observed haughtily:

“If you want to know who told the men to
do it, [did. I believe I have a right to do as I
please in this show.”

Jim turned his dark facc round on the gam-
bler with a singular look.

“ It. was you, was it?” he said.

“Yes, it. was me,” was the bold reply. “And
if you had been sober instead of lying round
like a drunken brute, we shouldn’t have had the
trouble. It’s your fault: no one else‘s. You
let the beast get out of control, and he had to
have his lessen—”

“Yes, and a blazes of a lesson you made of
it.” returned Jim, in a tone of concentrated
scorn. “ You’d make a blank of 3. animal man,
you would. All right, mister; if you’re so
durned_smart, go and take King Philip now,
and I’ll go home.”

Then a bitter scowl of rage contorted his fea-
tures, as he shook his fist at Stone, crying out:

“ Gosh darn yer picter, here I be with a
broken arm, and you’re hull and sound, and I’ll
bet my life King Philip ’1! knuckle down to me
before he will to you and all the rest, with yer
pitchferks and chains.”

Stone was about to make a hot reply, when
Mr. Bewnsse said, soothingly:

“There, there, what’s the use of disputing
like two old women? What’s done can’t be
helped. Luckily he didn’t hurt our show, and
he skeered old Hicks’s folks nigh out of their
liVes. They had to get a man out of our show
and alot. of soldiers to drive him off, and he
smashed fiVe big wagons for ’em at that. We’ll
get him back, Jim, and you’ll perform him next
town too, or it’ll be funny. Elephant Jims
ain’t hangin’ on every bush, are they, J im?”

J im‘s exorbitant vanity cooled down at the
compliment, and he said, more mildly than he
had spoken:

“ I ain’t sayin’ it warn’t my fault. I’d no
business to get budgy. But I do sayif I’d taken
the job first off, the old thief would never have
got off. Think I don’t know my biz?"

“ If you had,” interjected Stone, in his usual
sarcastic tones, “ you’d never have let him get so
wild.”

Elephant Jim gave him a furtive glance, very
unlike that of Lien Charley, but just as dan-
gerous, and said, slowly:

“ All right, mister, all right. My arm’s
broke, but. there’s a bone in it yet, and you’ll
find that out some day.”

Stone eyed him fiercely.

" What do you mean? Do you suppose I’m
afraid of you?”

Jim laughed a short, dry laugh:

“All right, mister, we’ll see some time. Mebbe
the arm ain’t broke as bad as some think it.”

Stone laughed back at him.

“ I know that well enough. I’ve seen plenty
of gentry of your kind, and laid them out, too.
Sick or well, you can’t cow me, my friend. I’m
no brute, but a man. Now, shut up your
head.”

As he spoke, he threw back his coat, put his
hand to his hip, and eyed Jim fearlessly, add—

 

g:

“ I’ve had enough of your drunken insolenCP,
my man. I come from California, where We.
put up or shut up. Which is it with you‘é”

Jim eyed him in the same sidelong way as be-
fore, and answered slowly:

“It’s git out and go home and leave you to
get King Philip, if you want to pick any more
musses with an unarmed man. If you’re so
darned brave, go 8:1 and get him. I’ll go
home.”

Stone saw the folly of resenting anything Jim
said, so he flapped his coat to again, and said,
with a curl of the lip:

“All right. I suppose you fellows must have
you: way You can settle it any time you
please.”

Jim laughed again, his peculiar, short, ry
laugh, as he retorted: ,

“ A bargain’s a bargain. We’ll see, some day
or other. There’s King Philip ahead of us.
Now let‘s see ye ketch him With yer pistols, my
solid guy.”

About a quarter of a mile ahead of them, in a
field of green corn, they could see the gigantic
bulk of the runaway elephant, as he gathered
the green stalks up in his trunk and feasted on
their sweets.

J.The men came to a halt, and Bownsse said to
1m:

“ Now then, take command. You know what
to do. I ’8 don‘t.”

Jim shrugged his shoulders and motioned to—
ward Stone with his head.

“He’s sich a fly guy, Set. him at it. He knows
all about elephants. he does. Let him ketch
him. I ain’t no good.”

Stone hit his lip.

He had plenty of courage; but the sight of
the elephant in the field cooled his ardor cen-

. siderably.

He took out an opera glass and surveyed
King Philip carefully.

In truth, the elephant did not look like a
pleasant subject to handle. ’

His head and body were c .vered with little
streams of blood “hich had dried on him,
where he had received the volley of the militia—

men.

 

’l‘o ‘nim the leadcn bullets had done no more

i hutni than a charge of small shot to a COW. l

   

I’d like to '

   

’llunmllllllllllllllflllllllttu

‘llwunmmun ulmik

Tiliey had scared him off at first, but that was
al

His life lay 0 deep for anything short of a
big bore rifle, close quarters, aimed at. head
or. heart.

convex forehead, his brain was invulnerable
from the front. King Philip looked like an
ugly customer to handle. .

Therefore. Stone put down his glass, and tried
to say, indifi’er'ently:

“ It’s none of my business. I don’t own the
elephant—you do.”

Jim smiled, as he sat in the cart.

“ Will ye do as you’re told, then?”

Stone hesitated. .

“ Yes, if you promise not to put up a job on
me. to make that brute pay me your spite.”

Jim smiled again.

“Ye needn’t be afeared. I ain’t that sort. I
pays my own debts.- I wouldn’t let him hurt ye
fur his price. If you want to get him, we’ve
got to get him enter that field, and he won’t
come unless he’s coaxed. You’ve got a good
boss. Ride in and holler at him, then turn and
run like blazes, so he'll fuller ye. . Don’t go too
fast, or he’ll give up. Dare ye do that, or shall
I send one of the boys?”

His tone was so sneering that Stone was
stung into saying:

“I dare do anything you do.”

Jim’s eyes flashed fire.

“ Ye do, do ye? We’ll see about that 1”

He jumped out of the cart, suppressing the
grimace of pain the action caused to his injured
arm, wh‘ch was not broken after all, but very
severely bruiscd, and went to the side of the
road.

The field in which King Philip was feeding
was separated from the road by two others: but
the stout rail fences had been leveled by the
monster as he made his way to the corn patch,
and lay in ruins where he had passed.

“ You, Billy Harkins,” said Jim to one of the
men, who was a leaper in the ring, “ are you
game to put on a rope?”

Billy - nodded quietly, and another man
anS‘Wered with him:

“ I’ll help him, Jim. I’ve done it afore.”

Jim nodded as if sati~fied.

“ You’ll do. Now, Mr. Stone, let’s see if
you’re as good stuff as you make out to be. You
see that tree?”

He pointed to a large apple-tree, a good two
feet in diameter at the ground, and continued:

“ We’ve got to get Philip tied to that tree. If
you are the man you say you are, lead him
right under it, and we’ll do the rest. Dare ye
do it I" ‘

Stone had turned pale, but he suppressed his
natural tremor, and answered bang tily:

“ I’m ready. Tell me how to proceed.”

Jim looked at him curiously, and with a cer~
tain respect he had not hitherto shown.

“ Remember,” he said, “ this is no fool of a
job. If he ketches you salt won’t save you, and
if you run too fast he won’t come to the tree.
He’s got to be led to that free, and close to it,
somehow. If ye miss it first time. coax him on
again; That’s your biz, to coax him to that
tree.’ '

“ And what’s yours?” esked Stone, 9. little
sarcastically. “ To look on?”

Jim smiled as he an9wered: _

“ You’ll see. VVe’ve got to hatch him and tie
him. Billy Harkins will take your job, and you
kin take his’n. if you feel you kin do it.” _

“ And what‘s Billy’s job?” asked Stone, for he
began to feel curious.

“ To put a rope round King Philip’s hind-leg
as he passes. and get out of the way afore he
gets killed,” was the composed anSWer. “Do
you want it?”

Stone looked at Jim and shook his head. He
began to realize that he had underrated these
quiet circus men, but the way in which they
went at their work spurred him to do his best.

“No,” he said, frankly, “I’m not able to do
it, and I beg your pardon, Perkins, for my
sneers. I’ll do my best. Are you ready?”

Jim held out his hand with a grim smile.

“ Shake, pardner,” he said. “ No malice if
you do your dooty like a man.”

Stone nerved himself for the grip, with the
memory of Lien Charley’s terrible paw; but he
soon found that Jim, with all his big, bony
frame, was by no means as strong as the terri-
ble lien-tamer, besides which he had time to set
his muscles to resist the pressure successfully.

Then J lm turned to his helpers.

“ Come to the tree, boys. Bewnsse, get the
cart out of the way. The rest of you be ready,
when he’s noosed, with the re es and tackles.
Ne w, Mr. Stone, go for him an coax him out.”

Bravo to desperation, as Stone generally was,
his heart-beat more strongly than usual as he
galloped down to meet King Philip. The ele-
phant lifted his head the moment he saw him
coming.’ '

CHAPTER XX.
CATCHING AN ELEPHANT.

STONE, rode on; cautiously,-crossing the first
field, till he came to the gap in the fence where
King Philip had passed.

He was, as\usual, riding one of Leonard’s
horses, the identical Gray Tom, that the young
millionaire had refused to lend in the morning.

Gray Tom was a thousand-dollar animal,
Kentucky bred, a steeple chaser by training,
and generally docile and quiet.

As he neared the elephant, however, he began
to exhibit restiveness, and Stone had difficulty
in getting him into the last field.

The gambler get angry, dashed in his spurs
savagely, and succeeded in gettin Gray Tom
within a hundred yards of King Philip, rearing,
bolting and plunging all the way.

The moment the elephant uttered a. shrill
scream of rage and charged, Gray Tom wheeled
round, took the check of the curb between his
teeth, and bolted at full speed up the field, but
away from the gap.

 

was frantic with terror. He could not even get
Gray Tom’s head up before he came to the next
fence.

Consequently the horse chested the barrier,
broke several rails, and came over on his head,
throwing his rider, cutting his own knees,
scrambling up wild with terror, and galloping
away with a shrill neigh.

The only redeeming point of his rush was that
it was made at such speed that it distanced
King Philip, who glave up the chase in disgust
and Ireturned to is cornfield - to resume his
mea .

For some moments Stone lay where he had
fallen, too stunned to move.

Then he lifted his head and found himself
alone, with a single fence between him and the
angry elephant.

He had had enough of it for one day, and be-
gan to crawl away, when he heard a loud burst
of ironical yelling from the circus men under
the tree, and saw Billy Harkins running out,
wavingared cloth and screaming to provoke
the elephant to another charge.

But King Philip seemed entirely willing to
stay where he was, and could not be coaxed out
of the cornfield.

He answered Billy’s yell with one of his shrill
screams, but made no motion to leave the place,
and Stone began to wonder what was to come
of it all, when he heard the beefs of a galloping
horse on the road, and looked up, to see a well-
known figure, on a chestnut mare, coming down
the road from Coalville.

It was Sally Hicks out for a ride to give Flirt
a little exercise, and he saw the little girl pull
up as soon as she spied King Philip.

Then Jim Perkins ran out, and Stone heard
the elephant-trainer shout:

“ Sally! oh, Sally! Come here!”

“ Who’s there 9” called out the girl, in her
clear, loud tones.

“ It‘s inc—Jim,” reared Perkins. “ “re. want
a maxer to gel; Philip out. W'ill you ride in

 

and do it torus? Get him under the tree for
us, tliat‘s all.”

Stone held his breath to catch her answer,
and heard her scream:

“ You don‘t deservo it, you great brute. Didn’t
5711 let hiui near kill me?"
“ Ab, don‘t have us, Sally,” called out Ele-

 

And as he was an African elephant, with a.

Stone sawed at his head in vain, for the horse »

 

«a

hunt. Jim, leadin l . “I was budgy. I didn’t
linow whatll was gol'n’. I sWear I didn’t. Do
help us, that's a good gal.”

“ Why don’t you get some of your own inert,
then?" cried Sally, riding closcr. “You re a
healthy lot of guys. you are, can’t get a coaxer
out of your own show. How do you expect to
cut us out of our route, if you can’t do any
better than that? Why did you let him get

)1

“ I didn’t, Sally, I swear it,” protested Jim.
“It was one of them solid guys out in Coal-
ville thought he could manage the king, and
tried to punish him afore I came. Lerdy, you
should ha’ seen him jest now, tryin’  coax the
elephant. The boss jest sent him a kitmhl tell
you, and he’s ever in one of them fields, a-pickin’
up his own bones, I reckon.”

Stone ground his teeth with shame and fury
as he heard himself thus frankly criticised, and
sunk down in the long grass, hoping to be un-
seen.

But the quick-eyed circus men had seen him
when he fell, and be heard Blll Harkins say:

“ There he is, Miss Celestine, over in the time-
thy, tryin’ to hide. He jest took as pretty a
tumble as ever you see."

“Was the poor man hurt?” asked Sally, re-
provingly. “ You men ought to remember that
he ain’t trained, as we are. ’

“ Then why did the guy want to be so darned
fresh?" retorted Billy. “ He put on more airs
than a country stud-horse, and be gosh blamed
to him.”

“ But you’ll help us, Sally, won’t ye?” Ele-
phant Jim urged again. “ ’Tain’t much for
you. Flirt ain’t afraid.”

-“ Flirt afraid?” echoed Sally, scornfully.
“No, nerI neither, and you knew that, Jim.
But look here, if I coax him for ye, Moone will
just- give you rats in the papers, after the way
you left us in the lurch.”

Jim set med to be hesitating, and at last he
said openly:

“ Let him. I don’t blame him. I’d erter
b’en kicked for gittin’ budgy, and Pop Hicks is
the best man I ever was with. Darned if I ain’t
sorry I ever left him, and I wouldn’t ha’ done
it if it hadn’t b’en for that crooked guy, over
there in the hayvfield. He give me a thousand
dollars to break my contra ct, and Idon’t care a
darn who knows it. I’m a fool and deserve to
ketch it. Let the little guy say what he wants.
Only you help me to-day, Sally, and you’ll find
out Jim Pei-kins ain’t as bad as some folks
thinks he is.”

Sally turned her horse instantly. V

“Very well,” she said, “ I’ll coax him for
you, and, mind you, Elephant Jim, I’ll hold on
to our promiso some day if ever you let ing
Philip start a muss like he did to- day.”

“ You shall, Sally, you shall,” was the earnest
reply; and with that the little woman galloped
bold y toward the field where King Philip was
still feeding.

Stone feltliis heart beating again like a trip-
hammer.

A girl was going to execute a task in which
he had nearly lost his life and failed ignomini-
eusl .

Aid she went about it as coolly as if she were
doing her act in the ring.

She jumped Flirt OVer the (gap in the fence,
and cantered straight tewar he elephant,
calling out loudly to the beast.

King Philip went on feeding as if he did not
notice her til! Flirt came within less than fifty
yards, when he suddenly wheeled round and
came at her open-mouthed, roaring savagely.

In the same moment Flint wheeled and gal-
le ed away, seeming in no particular hurry,
w iile Philip strained evory nerve to catch her.

The little mare had dodged his trunk too many
times to fear him.

Sally kept looking back and pulling at her
horsc, till Stone felt sick at his stomach at the
fri btful peril, as it seemed to him, of the girl.‘

be extended trunk of King Philip seemed
to be almost touching Flirt’s tail as they neared
the gap, and the monster chased the mare
fiercely right under the apple-tree, where the
circus men were new crouching.

Stone saw King Philip pass the tree, saw a
man dart out and come close to the beast’s hind
leg, which he seemed to clutch with both arms
as he ran.

The next instant the man jum (1 back. Stone
saw a black line, that stretche from the ele-
phant’s hind leg to the foot of the tree, and
then there was a crashing and shaking of
foliage, as the great tree bent over under the
tremendous strain.

And then—Kin Philip sprawled on the
round with a eras , and a dozen 'men set on
im at once. ‘

With a desperate daring and skill that
amazed the gambler, they flung themselves on
the struggling beast and noosed leg after leg,
then ran away with the lines to the old trees
that studded the pasture-field, and had King
Philip stretched out, flat on all-fours, in less
than half an hour of vigorous and wonderfully
skillful work.

And in all the affair little Sally and Flirt
kept playing in front of Philip, coaxing him to
exert himSelf and stretch his own cords tighter,
till the great beast lay helpless as a log.

Then Jim Perkins, whose one band had
lsxzen busy all through the affair, called out to

one: ‘

“ Come on here, Mr. Stone. You want to
know how to punish a crazy elephant. Ele-
phant Jim’s the boy to show you, and don’t you
forget it nuther. Come on. No one  en’t hurt
ye. You did as Well as ye knowed how, and no
man can’t do no more.”

“ Come on,” called Billy Harkins. “ May as
well learn how to do things,.if you’re goin’ to
b’long to our show, mister. ’

And finally little Sally rode up, in her free
and independent manner, to say:

“Come on, stranger. He’s tied new and no
harm done. He’ll be quiet enough when Jim
gets through with him. Don’t be afraid. I’ll
take care of you.”

Stone had had, in the course of his life, many
mortifying episodes, like most; men, but he ne-
ver had felt so utterly sick with anger and
shame as when he heard himself addressed in
this patronizmg tone by this little girl, who
looked on him with a certain pitying scorn that
cut him to the heart, in his vanity.

“ N 0, thank you,” be answered, stiffiy. “ I’ve
no wish to see it. Good-day.”

And he turned to walk away,
called after him in her slangy way:

“ Ta, ta! Leave us a lock of your hair'be—
fore you go. What a masher you would be if
you only knew how to ride.”

CHAPTER XXI.
KING PHILIP BEGS.

THE mortified gambler had not very far to go
across the fields before he found Gray Tom, who
had recovered from his panic when he no longer
saw the elephant, feeding quietly in a cornfield,
where the tall green stalks hid him from view
from the road.

The sight was a welcome one to Stone, who
hed no Wish to add to his many mortifications
that of entering Coalville on feet, when he had
left it mounted. 0

He approached the horse cautiously and sue-
ceeded in getting hold of the bridle, when he
examined Gray em.

The horse was bleeding from a cut in the
chest, and had both knees bruised and slight!
gushed, but did not seem to be going lame at a!
and, when Stone mounted him, moved off readi:
ly, and appeared disposed to run again from
nervous excitement. ‘

But the gambler,

when Sally

mounted with hi
straightened out and his clothing dusted i132
like. anew man from the battered Stone ’who
had been rallied so unmercifully on feet.

He made up his mind to go back and witnesq
the punishment. of King Philip, if he could get
Tom to face the elephant, and accordingly he
leapedt thttix fetvvllicttclcs to the road, and \vent
tat-r .o 0 let w tere tlt‘. 1' \-
gathewd. ( Lll‘C'llS men wue

An idea had come into his head.
even with some of them
the saucy little tniitx who
him with her show slang.

He would get
, and especially with
had dared to mock at

9’1 5 ’ . 

 

He saw them all gathered in the field, and
Sally Hicks still sat on Flirt, not tWenty feet
from the elephant’s head, watching the opera.-
tion with tranquillity.

King Philip was trumpeting defiance, and
struggling frantically to burst the tough cables
that stretched him out. while Jim Perkins stood
by a little furnace, of the tinker’s pattern, which
was smoking away, and in which stood several
lon , wooden handled irons to be heated.

E‘lephant Jim looked up as Stone rode in, and
nodded familiarly.

“ Hello, Stone, back again? Thought the boss
was too much for ye.”

“Thank you,” returned Stone, loftily. “ I
never found that sort of a horse yet. He cheated
the fence or I wouldn’t have had any trouble.”

Sally looked at him with her saucy smile, as
she observed:

“ I guess you ain’t used to riding much, are
you?”

Stone flushed crimson.

“Thank you,” he answered, “I’vo ridden a
good deal in my life. I don‘t think much of
rin «riding. It’s all show. Nothing so very
dl cult about it that I See.”

And then he stopped short, as he saw that all
the men were snicker-mg at him, while Jim Per-
kins said in his grim way:

“ Hem! Horse’s knees looks like you was a
bully rider. Next act, beysl”

So saying the elephant-trainer drew a pair of
irons from the fire, and went straight toward
King Philip’s bed.

The entangled monster saw him coming and
slapped viciously at him with its trunk, which
was still free. .

Jim held out the glowing irons to receive the
blow, shouting savagelv:

“ Would ye, ye old thief?”

There was a hissing sound and the agonized
elephant struggled vehemently, trumpeting do-
fiance, but unable to bear the ain.

The seared trunk was whipped out of the
way, and Jim ran in close to the animal‘s eyes,
burning with the irons and scolding all the
while with a torrent of blasphemous objurga-
lien. ’

Stone turned pale at the sight and sounds, as
the punisument continued, and Gray Tom bolt-
ed and plunged, shaking in every limb, while
King Philip resisted for a good half-hour at
times nearly bursting the great cables that
bound him to the trees, trumpeting savagely,
striking with his trunk at everything in the
way, but still harassed by the ,relentlesu Jim
with fresh irons, and growing weaker and
weaker.

Stone at last got his horse to stand within
fifty yards, and could not contain his amaze-
ment at the coolness of Sally and her little
mare.

They stood within a few feet of the radius of
the wildly lashing trunk, and Sally did not
seem in the least excited over the contest, occa-
sionally dropping a word, such as:

“ He‘s weakening, Jim! Give it to him!
Don’t let him beat you l”

And so the contest continued of man’s deter-
mination and subtlety against the wild rage of
brute force, till at last Philip stretched out his
trunk and lay mute and still.

“ Fresh ironsl” was the merciless order of
Jim. and straight at King Philip’s head he went
again, burning away with sava e determina-
tion, the tough hide hissing wit a sickening
odor, till at last the prostrate elephant uttere
a low, whining noise, which rose to a scream of
mortal agony as it quivered through its whole
vast bulk, but never offered to fight. The
moment the sound was heard, Sally clapped her
hands, and cried:

“ That‘s enough, Jim! [In begs !”

Jim laughed aloud in aproud and triumphant
way, as he threw down his irons, and not his
feet on King Philip’s bend.

“ Aha, ye old thief!” he cried. “Have yo
found your master again? Hey? Let’s see if
you’re tamed yet.”

He walked all over the prostrate monster,
took up the end of it’s trunk, slapped it with his
open hand. and let it drop again.

King Philip never offered to stir.

Then Jim turned proudly to his men:

“He’s had enough,” he said. “Let him up.
He won’t give no more trouble this season, and
he’s a better card than ever.”

Then to Stone he cried:

“ Bring up your gray boss! If he stands that,
he’ll stand anything.”

tone, by dint of much spurring, got Gray
Tom within a few feet of the elephant, and
finally succeeded in riding round King Philip.

And the elephant never stirred while they
were taking off the ropes.

It lay there, completely conquered, while Jim
passed about body and legs, striking them every-
where with his open palm, and at last called
on :

“ Get up, ye old thief! Get up!”

Then the great beast rose up slowly, and stood
before its master, while Gray Tom made a
frantic bolt again and tried to run away, but
this time was checked by Stone so well, that
Still called to him:

“ ’Vell done, sir. You’re improving. Take a
few lessons in the ring, and you’ll know how to
ride after a while.”

Then she turned Flirt, and waved her band to
Jim. saying gayly:

“ Good-by, Jim. He’s all right now.”

“ Thanks to you. Miss Sall ,” Jim called out,
very earnestly, taking off his at, and executing
a profound bow.

Sally kissed her hand, and galloped away on
her ride from Cealville, when Stone seemed to
Lnake up his mind what to do, and dashed after

er.

She never heeded the sound of beefs till he
was close behind her, when she waved her band
and called out:

” Want a riding lesson! I’ll give
Come on for a race.”

Then she sat down in the saddle, spoke to
Flirt, and away went the little mare like an ar-
row from the bow, with gray Tom thundering
after her.

Stone was, as he had boasted, a California
rider, and understood his business; but he had
never ridden Gray Tom till that da , and did
not know the ways of his horse as gully as he
could have desired.

Gray Tom was a “rusher,” and had the trick
of getting the check of a straight curb in his
teeth when he ran away.

Stone managed to catch up with little Flirt in
a race of something over a mile, when Sally put
on her whip and suddenly turned and darted
down a side-lane so quickly that Gray Tom was
thrown out, and the mare had gained fifty yards
before he could get into the lane.

Stone had hardly any definite idea in first
chasing the girl, but now be ground his teeth,
for she turned in her saddle, way-ed her whip,
and called out to him tauntingly:

“You can’t ride for sour apples!
you can’t catch Flirt, for stamps!”

“ We’ll see about that,” he shouted back. and,
as he spoke, be dug in his spurs and sent Gray
Tom off like a flash, gaining every stride. He
knew the big horse could outrun thelittle mare,
and they were in a narrow lane with high
fences on either side, which there was no room
to leap, and therefore the chances were in his
favor.

Sallv saw it, too, and checked Flirt, letting
Gray om come up band ever hand.

In another minute, with a about of triumph,
Stone was beside her, and grasped at the bridle
as he came. ,

With a taunting laugh the girl pulled up so
suddenly that he overshet the mark again,
wheeled her mare and darted back up the lane
toward the road.

Stone ground his teeth as he followed, coming
up again and shouting:

” NOW, my beauty, 1’]! get you this time, and
you‘ll pay the forfeit, too. I’ll have that kiss
or I‘ll die for it.” ’
. Sally turned and shook her whip at him cry-
ing defiantly: ’

- " Xrlfll’ll llllVC‘ I.“ catch me first, Camp (in. “nu
Sick dude, You‘ll get :I nit-e riding lesson before
I’ve done with you. Ilonp In!"

(To be cuntinucd—commenced in. No. 62.)

you one.

Bet you,

 

 

 

 

 

  
  

 

 

 

 
 
  
 
   

 

 
  
    
    
 
       
   
    
      
   
   

  

 

 

 

 

THE KING‘S SIGNET.

BY JOHN H. WHITSON.

 

 

There's a legend told of a rare old king,

Who had engraved on his siguet ring.

This iilessuge. sent on the wings of love

To earth below, from the realms above:
" Ye should all love one anotherl"

And oft when flushed at a foe‘s retreat—

Wlicn prisoners bowed at his sandaled feet;

When war-clouds shrouded the. land in night,

Like lightning flashed on his ’wildered sight—
“ Ye should all love one another 1”

When factions shook from its place. his throne
And friends proved false whom his power had
known,
When hate’s dark horrors had sought his breast,
This thought brought quiet and peace and rest——
“ Ye should all love one another!"

In exile, far from his native land,

Alone and faint on a. rocky strand,

With healing swift in its quivering wing

The message. came from the Signet-ringi—
“ Ye should all love o.ic aiiot ierl"

And then when I)O\Vrl‘. like a priceless gem,

Returned to glow in his diadein,

l'lis slgnet shone, as ;n days of Old,

And wisdom leaped from that text of gold—~
‘ Ye should all love one another!”

Through life’s long, wearisomc, thorny path,

In the light of peace or the gloom of wrath,

In the tempest shock or the soothing calm,

Came e’er to his heart, like a healing balm—-
“ Ye. should all love one anotherl” _

And when grim death, with its icy chill,
Had touched his heart, and his pulse grew still;
He cried, as he turned with a filmy eye
To his Signet, then to the brightening sky:
“ We shall all love one another!”

Monte Jim,

The Black Sheep of Bismarck.

BY JOS. E. BADGER, JR.,
AUTHOR OF “ NOR’ WEST NICK,” “ KING OF THE
RUSTLERS,” ETC.

CHAPTER XXIII.
MEDEA PENNINGTON TELLS A STORY.

“ WELL, it was rather innocent on your part
to believe thiit a man of my caliber who, so to
speak, was born with a pistol in his fist. could
miss the size of your head across a table, and
then take the chances of jumping through a
sccondstory window, instead of sending you by
that route,” laughed Monté Jim, giving Pennin -
i, ton’s hand a parting squeeze that almost mat e
l the bones crack; then, turning toward Frank

Lisle, his voice and manner in startling contrast

to what they had been but a moment before:

“As for you and your little mistakes, Mr.
Frank Lisle, the less I see of the one and hear of
the other, the less liable I am to be arrested for
assault and battery.”

“ Do you mean to threaten me, sir?” de-
manded Lisle, his eyes flashing, his brows con-
tracting heavily.

“ I nevor utter threats—in the presence of a
lady,” was the cold response. “ I don’t think it
will be very difficult for you to imagine why I
refuse your hand, but if there should happen to
be any little point which you fail to perfectly
comprehend, shall be only too happy to eluci-
date, any hour Of the twenty-four, after the
present. one. Good-evening.”

“I’ll recall your pledge, Monte Jim—if you
escape being hung for murder, and do not run
away before I can find you again,” coolly re-
torted Lisle.

He glanced from one to another of those
present. but on neither face could he detect the
faintest wish for his remaining in defiance of
the very pointed intimation from Monté Jim
that his room would be far preferable to his
company, even Alva Pennington avoiding his
look. With a careless nod to all in general, be
turned on his heel and left the room.

“ There’s had blood under his smooth hide, or
I’m a liar!” muttered Joe Kinney, in a voice
intended for Monté Jim ulone.

“ More than there will be after I have had a
little private conversation with the gentleman,”
replied the card sharp, after the same guarded
fashion.

“It’s all on the level between you and me,
then, Monte?”

“ If you say so, most assuredly.”

“ I only done what I thought was my duty.
Of course I couldn’t let you bluff me clean
down, and if it hadn’t been for the young lady,
I reckon one or the other, if not both of us,
would be turned toes up before this!”

“And I, Mr. Kinney,” suddenly uttered a
soft voice, as Medea Pennington glidedbetween
them, “must ask your pardon for the strange
manner in which I usurped your office. I felt
sure Mr. Inca could not be guilty of _such_ a das-
tardly crime; but all the same, if his guilt had
been positive, I must have interfered to save his
life long enough for him to clear up a most per-
plexing mystery.”

Joe Kinney was no ladies’ man, and he blushed
furiously beneath that apologetic smile and
gentle touch which rested on his arm. Just
what he did or said, he could never recall With
anything like satisfactory clearuess, for. the
next thing he remembered was striding sw1ftly
down the street, hat in hand, letting the cool
breeze dry his heated brow.

Monté Jim was on the point of following him,
when Medea, her voice grave, her face sad,

' checked him.

“Not yet, Mr. lnce, please. I have a story
to relate that, if I mistake not, deeply concerns
you. As a personal favor, I beg of you to re-
main and listen.”

Alva Pennington started at her words, cast-
ing a swift glance from her face to that of the
gambler, then advancing:

“ You have recognized him, then, Medea?”

She turned quickly upon him, her eyes gleam-
ing as she uttered in a swift, startling tone: '

“ You know, then? And yet you left me in
ignorance l” c

“ I suspected, but only this very night. In
fact, this gentleman was answering my ques-
tions when that dastard made his attempt at
murder. I haven’t had a chance to speak Since.
But you won’t go into it tonight? It’s growmg
late—”

Medea turned imploringly toward Monte Jim,
who said: '

“I am entirely at your disposal, Miss Pen-
nington. Night and day are the same tome,
but you—had on not better seek some repose
before attempting to do more? Will not to-mor-
row answor just as well ’t” _

“I dare not wait!” was the quick, nervous
reply. “ My vow forbids it. And unless you
poaitivel y refuse to listen~”

“You saved my life. when those fellows had
me cornered, Miss Pennington, and it IS yours
to do with as you see fit. You have only to
command, and I will obey.”

Will Rice, who had been unwillingly forced
to listen to these swift interchanges, now
caught at his opportunity to bid Medea good-
night, only to be cut short by the lady. .

“ You must not go yet, Mr. Rice,” she said,
positively. “Though the story I have to tell
does not intimately concern you, the services
you have so generously rendered me this night
embolden me to beg your attendance to the
end.”

A surly growl from Alva Pennington told
how little he relished this prospect, but Will
Rice was too deeply in love with Medea to
slight or refuse her earnestly spoken Wish, and
with a low how, he resumed his seat on the
lounge. .

“What business is it of his?” growled Pen-
nington. “This is a family affair, and we can
surely get along without any outsiders !”

“Cousin, Mr. Rice is my friend. He has

I heard part of the story I have to tell, and has
1' been of such service to me that I give him the

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

to go too fur. IVitli an ugly look from the cor-
ner of his eyes toward the ex conductor, he
sunk back in a chair.

Medea followed his example, as far as seating
herself was concerned, motioning Monte Jim to
do the same. In silcnce be obeyed, and for a
brief space there was perfect silence. Medea
gazing at the floor, as though puzzled how to
begin. '

Not for long, however.
idly:

“ When you were facing those men who were
calling aloud for your life, I addressed you by
a name different from that which you gave me
night before last, on the train. Will \Oll tell
me frankly, without reservation. which name
is rightfully yours? Are you James Ince, or
are you Llo d Pennington?"

“James nee is the name I go by, ma’am,
when the boys wish to be extra polite; every
day, I’m MOnté Jim, the Black Sheep of Bis-
marck ” was the qiinet response.

“ But is that your rightful name? Were you
never called Lloyd Pennington!" persisted Me—
dea, eying him closely.

A faint Smile swept over the handsome coun-
'euance of the card-sharp, but there was little
delay in giving his answer:

"Since you pin me down to sober facts,
na’am, I’ll own that I was once called Lloyd
Pennington.”

“The son of Craig Pennington, and nephew
If Stephen Pennington, of Chicago? Half-bro
her to my cousin, here?” pel‘SlrL.d the youm
woman, as thongh resolved to make no mis
take.

Monté Jim bowed silently.

With a low sigh that was not altogether one
of relief, Medea Pennington leaned back in her
chair, hcrleyes once more drooping, the tran~
sitory flush abandoning her cheeks. Her tone
sounded hard and forced, as though she found
the story a very difficult and trying one to
utter; but not once did she falter or pause, save
when interrupted by one of her auditors.

“ When my poor father lay dying, he called
me to his bedside, and told me a terrible story,
bidding me spare no pains in searching for one
whom he had bitterly wronged in the days gone
by; to spend money like water, if need be, but
to never abandon the quest until 1 had found
Lloyd Pennington, or become positively assured
that he was dead.

“ When I did discover him, if living, I was to

tell him the whole truth, without a single reser~
vatioii, no matter how hard I might find it bore
upon me to say the criminating words.
“ In obedience to that sacred vow, given when
the dews of death were on his brow, with his
cold hand in mine, his painfully eager look upon
my face, I have spent six months in hunting for
Lloyd Pennington, only finding him this night.
And now, though the confession comes bitter as
gall on my lips, I will tell you what that dying
man told me with his last few breaths of life.”

“Once more, Miss Pennington, I bag that you
will postpone this reVelation to which you a1-
lude,” said Monté Jim, earnestly. “ You are
not fit—you have been tried far too severely a1-
read . Sure] , one more day will not matter.”

“ on are kind, but I must go on. I dare not
falter. I would see the reproachful face of my
dead father—no, no! I must finish my story
now, if it kills me!”

A brief pause, then she resumed:

“Craig and Stephen Pennington were half-
brothers, and partners in what every one be-
lieved was a most prosperous business. They
were accounted among the richest merchants in
the city, and their name was good for almost
any amount on ’Change.

“ Lloyd Pennington, son of Craig, by his first
wife, was one of the head clerks in the store,
though then quite young. He was a. little wild,

Then she spoke rap-

 

rumor said, but otherwise he was deemed a.
model of honor, and in the absence of the part
ners, be frequently took entire charge of the
business. This fact told heavily against him,
when the blow fell.

“It came one day like a thunderbolt out of
a clear sky.

“ Stephen Pennington unexpectedly returned
from a journey East, and he had scarcely been
at the Office an hour, before a dispatch was sent
summoning his partner, Craig Pennington. He
came promptly, and the partners held a long
consultation with locked doors. When they
opened, it was to admit Llo d Pennington, who
was charged with forgery or heavy amounts.

“He seemed bewildered by the charge, and
his answers, so different in tone from his cus-
tomary quick, frank business manner, only
served to still further condemn him in the eyes
of his father. cold and hard man of business.

“ The proofs seemed terribly convincing.
Any impartial jury must have Sentenced as
guilty any one brought before them with that
weight of evidence against him. But Lloyd
Pennington, as soon as he could recover from
the first benumbing shock of such a terrible
charge, stoutly declared his perfect innocence.

“ Craig Pennington was, 9 best, a hard un-
sympathetic parent, and fer the date of his
second marriage, when Lloyd was only a few
years Old, he had seemed to love his eldest son
less and less, treating him with great strictness,
which grew more severe as his second son, his
only child by his last wife, gained in years. As
the word gOes, there was little love lost be-
tween Lloyd and his step—mother, and it was
mainly her work that. set the father sostrongly
against his eldest born. '

“ This dislike showed itself now, and the
father would not give ear to the passionate de-
nials of the accused. He acted as though he
wished to believe him guilty, and while striv-
ing to avert open disgrace from falling upon
his name, be punished the assumed criminal as
severely as lay in his power. '

“Lloyd Pennington went out of that othce,
bearing on his head the bitter curse of his father,
who forbade his ever entering his old home,
forbade his ever speaking to one of the family.
under penalty of being arrested and prosecuted
as a forger. . .

“As I said, the proofs against him seemed
terribly clear, and Lloyd Pennington could only
bow to the sentence passed_upon him by his
stern parent. He knew that he could not clear
himself in the eyes of the law, and from that
day he was neVer seen near his old home. He
disappeared as completely as though he. had
never existed. His name was never mentioned
by his relatives. It was as though he was dead
and buried.

“ Stephen Pennington offered to assume one.
half of the losses consequent upon the. forgeries,
but Craig Pennington was honest, if so cold-
hearted, and refused to permit this. The sums
were so heavy that he was severely crippled,
and from that day on he was only given a third
interest in the business, though only the part—
ners themselves knew this.”

Medea paused to catch breath. A short, hard
laugh came from the lips of Monté Jim, who
had been gravely listening. .

“DO you wonder that I went wrong, .Wlth
such a start in life?” he said, a mocking bitter-
ness in his tones. “ Is it a marvel to you, now.
that I did not carewto acknowledge the name of

lo (I Pennin ton. .
LM‘Odea coveiged her eyes with one hand, while
the other made an imploring gesture toward the
card sharp. Her voice was hoarse and strained

, as ed:
as‘§1I§o%’tB-pray don’t! If you only knew how
very hard you are making my task, you would
have mercy 2”

Even Monté Jim seemed.sta_rtled and per-
plexed by her powerful agitation. He stam-
marIdbeg your pardon—I didn’t think—”

Her hand dropped, she flashed a keen glance
‘ his face.
mE‘OBut you must have known that the charge
was false—that you were not gUIIty—Only the
scapegoat made to suffer for the crime of an-
other! Surely you must have at least suspected
who was the real criminal?” _

“But I didn’t, I pledge you my word, Miss

 

Her face was pale as death, but there was no
other sign of fiinching, as she said:
"My father was the lorger!”

CHAPTER XXIV.
MONTE JIM DECLINES A BRIDE.

A BREATHLESS silence followed this announce—
merit. Not one among those who heard the
words, but longed to console the poor girl,
whose head was now be“ ed with grief and
shame: but not one knew just how to set about
doin so, with the others looking on.

“ ell, this is all news to me !” exclaimed
Alva Pennington, who rather prided himself on
his blunt straightforwardncss. ~ “ And so it was
uncle Steve who got the chestnuts? Well, well:
and I used to look on him as One of the elect!
He seemed so good and holy that I don’t believe
I’d have thought it at all out of the way if I had
seen the pin feathers begin to sprout on his
shoulders!”

“ Drop that, you !” mutteer Monté Jim, with
an angry look toward the speaker, as the bowrd
figure of the maiden perceptibly qniVered, the
coarse words and coarser tone cutting her
wounded feelings to the very quick.

“ It is nothing but the truth,” said Medea,
suddenly recOVei-ing from her brief prostration.
lifting her pale face, choking back the tears
which rendered her voice So husky and uncer—
tain. “ Say plainly what you think. It is part
.if the punishment which follows eyery crime."

"But don’t light on the right shoulders, every
time,” impulsively cried Mon’ré Jim, his big blue
eyes all aglow. “ If you had been the one who
JimPl‘vtl those forgeries, there might be some lit
lle justice in it; but when you’re innocent as a
babe unborn—devil fly away with such justice
as that!” »

“ It is nothing compared to what you must
have endured all these years, bearing the Weight
of another’s crime. In place of pitying, you
should rather curse me, as the child of the man
who cast upon your young shoulders the load
of crime which he should have borne himself——
who blasted your prospects, and turned you out
upon the world, an outcast!”

“ The worst crime your father over commit-
ted, was when he made you swear to tell this
story,” earnestly uttered Monté Jim. “For
the forgeries, for his false swearing, I could for-
give him easily enough; but never this. He
had no right to ask such a bitter sacrifice of
you, and could I have imagined what it was
you meant to say, I should have refused to Us
ten. As it is, I beg of you to say no more.”

“ Or, if you must, wait until tomorrow,”
urged Alva Pennington, suspecting that both
Medea and Monté Jim were too powerfully
moved for his interests to be perfectly safe in
the hands of the card sharp, even though he
had pledged his word to refuse the Offer which
the maiden was bound to make.

“ Since I have begun, I will finish,” said Me~
dea, struggling- to recover her composure. “ If
you flee from me now, I could neVer find cour-
age to confront you again, and there remains
much for me to say, before I can feel that I
have kept the sacred charge left me by my
poor father. In addition to this, I ask another
favor of you, Llo d Pennington.”

“ ,It is granted efore uttering, Miss Penning-
ton. ’ g .
“Thank you. It is this: that you will hear
me through, without further interruption. I
know you did not mean it, but your laugh, and
your bitter words, just now, pained me more
than if you had driven a dagger to my heart,
and makes my task a very hard one to perform,
I assure you.’

“ I most humbly beg your pardon, Miss Pen-
nington,” stammered Monté Jim, his handsome
countenance flushing hotly. “I’ll bite Off my
tongue and swalIOW it, before it offends you
again. I’m a rough, ignorant brute, at the
best, but I’d rather lose a hand than to give you
one unnecessary pang.”

“Of course you would, and so would all of
us,” cried Alva Pennington, shifting nervously
on his seat, his anxiety increasing with the ex-
change of each sentence. “I beg of you, Me-
dea, to leave the rest in my hands. Let me tell
brother Lloyd What remains to be told, while
you go and lie down. First thing you know,
you’ll be down sick.”

But the maiden shook her head, with a wan

smile.
“ I alone can tell the story, cousin. You
hardly understand the mere outline. Besides,
I am bound by m oath to tell all, and make
full confession in t 6 name of the dead!

“ Yes: my father, Stephen Pennington, was
the forger! He confessed all to me while lying
on his death-bed, and now I will try to make
his motives clear to you.

“Against the better judgment of his half-
brother, he entered extenswely into specula-
tions that promised immense profits, and in the
end he lost heavily, though only the brokers
be employed suspected the truth. To cover these
losses, Stephen Pennington took the first step
along the dark path, hoping to make restitu-
tion before his evil deeds could be discovered.
In this he was disappointed, and matters. went
from bad to worse with him, until only a re
mote chance lay between him and discovery.
He dared not trust entirely to this, lest it fail
him so suddenly that he would be unable to
save anything from the wreck; and then it was
that he set the trap into which you, Lloyd Pen-
nington, fell through no sin of yours.

“ He made it appear that for months you had
been issuing false paper for heavy sums, really
intending at the time to take these up again
and destroy them, should his last hope turn out
as profitable as be firmly believed; but the
fates willed it otherwise.

“ He received a telegram from a man with
whom the firm did business, into whose hands
one of the forgeries had fallen, and whose sus-
picions were aroused. He hastened home, and
saw that the blow could no longer be averted.
It was either his ruin, or that of the scape-
goat whom he had selected to bear the burden
Of his sins—and you know the decision he
made.

“One week later Stephen Pennington was
richer than he had ever been, for his forlorn
hope proved even more profitable than he had
dared dream of ; but the blow had fallen, and
he dared not tell the truth.

“ It is very hard to utter snch terrible truths
of on ’s own parent; the more so when, until
that black history was Whispered for the first
time, one has believed in his ti uth, uprightness,
and honor, as one believes in the Bible! Terri-
bly hard—but even as death ( laimed his spirit,
he reminded me of the sacred oath I had taken,
to tell all, without reserve.

“ From first to last, the Penningtons have
been a strange race. Their loves and hates
have been very strong, but they rarely found
vent in the usual channels. There have always
been dissensions lc-eLWeen them, and though
they were partners in business for many years,
the case of my father and his half-brother was
not an exception to the general rule.

“After that first step along the downward
path. it- Was easier for Stephen Pennington to
continue than to retrace his steps. With his
wealth his avarice grew, and as he was now
the leading partner in the firm, he had ample
opportunities given him by which he could
readily defraud his brother. Little by little,
so guardedly that the most searching examina-
tion could detect nothing of his frauds, he
pushed Craig Pennington still nearer the brink
of ruin. At the same time, though it seemed
that his own losses were still greater, he was
storing up wealth like a miser.

“ That is sufficient. I cannot tell you all, as
it came about. I was heartsick when I first
heard it—I am heartsick now that I attempt to
convey the same to you.

“Enough that all unsuspecting the truth,
Craig Pennington was ruined by his own bro—
ther, and when the crash came, it proved more
than he could bear. He surrendered everything
to his creditors, took to his bed, and never left
it in life.

 

 

business was finally settled up, there were scores
of rich men who insisted on roe—establishing my
father in business.

“ Then the time came when death laid its
hand heavily on him, and when he became con-
vinced that his last earthly hope was gone, he
called me to his bedside, and (onfessed all his
crimes, making me swear to make what resti-
tution was possible.

“ He admitted the forgeries, and gave his
reasons for fixing on you, Lloyd Pennington, in
preference to any other, as the scapegoat. He
believed you suspected something of his evil
practices. and that you were on the point of de-
nouncing him to your father. He saw only the
one way of saving himself, and he took it with-
out leaving you a single loop-hole to escape.

“Now, as he lay dying, he wished to make
what amends lay in his power. No person, out—
side of the family. knew why you so suddenly
fled from home. No one ( Veil susp cted that you
did so under a cloud. Therefore, it would not
be necessary to publish his crime to the world,
unless you should insist on doing so, as part.
recompense for the unmerited punishment you
had been forced to bear. Then, and then only,
I was to give to the public a full, written con»
fession of his past crimes. If you did not insist
on this, I was to surrender into your hands all
lt'oe. pnoperty of which he died possessed, un-

959——

Here her voice faltered, and her eyes sunk to
the floor.

Alva Pennington fidgeted uneasily on his
chair, trying to catch the eye of Monte Jim,
who persistenty avoided his gaze, looking stead-
ily at the reddening countenance of the maiden,
his eyes glittering vividly.

“He made a will, I suppose?” he uttered, at
length, as Medea still maintained silence.
“ You don’t happen to have a copy of that with
you. of course?”

Medea suddenly lifted her head, gazing fully
into his glowing eyes, her face turning very
pale, though her voice was firm and even as she
spoke again:

“I have a copy of the portions which more
nearly concern you, Mr. Pennington. I will
let you see them, when I have finished what I
have to say.”

“ I only thought a glance at that would spare
you from uttering words that may be hard to
speak,” he said, quietly.

“ It is all hard enough, Heaven knows!” with
a bitterness that she had not yet exhibited.
“ But there is no alternative left me. I swore
to carry out his wishes, and I will do so with-
out evasion or false shame.

“ In that will, my father left his entire for-
tune to you. provided you would accept my
hand in marriage. If you refused to do this,
you were to receive one—half the money, and
the other moiety was to become mine. That
there might be no possible chance for misunder-
standing, I was to put the question plainly to
you—and I obey his wishes, thus:

“ Lloyd Pennington, will you marry me?”

As she uttered these words, Medea rose from
her chair and took a step toward Monte Jim,
holding out one hand, looking straight into his
glowing eyes. Her voice was calm, her fea-
tures composed, though as pale as death itself.

Through all this, Will Rice had listened with
a. breathless interest that may be imagined,
after his ardent confession of love, only a few
hours earlier in the same evening, but now, as
he saw Monté Jim grasp the proffered hand, he
could bear no more, but caught up his hat and
hastily rushed from the room.

Alva Pennington, fairly ghastly in his great
fear lest his new-found brother should prove too
weak to resist the temptation thus deliberately
pladced before him, sat in agony, waiting for the
en .

Monté Jim clasped the white hand in both
of his own, looking keenly into the lustrous eyes
which were raised to meet his. And when he
spoke, there was a perceptible tremor in his
voice:

“ Suppose I were to say the whole world con»
tains no gift one-half so precious to me as this
little hand, Medea?”

“It is yours for life, if you care to claim it,
Lloyd,” was the low reply. “ I make the offer.
It is for you to accept or decline. It is a poor
reward for all you have suffered in these long
years through the crime of my father.”

As she ceased speakin there was utter silence
for a few moments. onté Jim gazed into
those lustrous eyes as though unable to break
the spell; but not for long. Then, releasing the
hand he held, he stepped back a pace and put
both hands behind him, as though the better to
resist temptation,

“ My dear child, it is a priceless treasure you
are offering me, and if I were a better man, or
a greater Scoundrel, I would hold you to that
pledge. It would be little short of heaven—-
your love I” ,

She made no reply, but shrunk back a little,
as though alarmed by the intense earnestness
with which he spoke.

Monté Jim saw this, and his mood seemed in-
stantly to change, a light laugh breaking from
his lips as he said:

“ Unluckily for me, I must respectfully de-
cline the honor. I am already a married man
—have a wife, and the good Lord only knows
how many little olive branches! They would
seriously object. You would rather not, and
Alva, here, would surely blow out what few
brains he has if I married you, for, unless all
signs lie, the poor devil is over head and ears in
love with my charming cousin!

“ As for the wrongs which your father may
or may not have done me in the past, we’ll call
that square, for the sake of his lovely daughter,
who has so bravely tried to make what amends
lay in her power. Of one thing you can rest
assured : I will never reproach either him or you
with the past.

“As for the fortune, you must give me two
days in which to weigh the matter. Then I will
come to you with in decision.”

He moved forwar and took both her hands
in his, stooping until his lips touched her fore-
head, gravely, reverently.

“Allow me—as a cousin, only!” he muttered.
as she seemed to shrink from the caress. “And
now, goodnight. You must seek some rest.
May the angels guard you!” and, dropping her
hands, Monté Jim turned and hastily left the
room.

(To be continued—commenced in No. 58.)

 

Casual Mention.

 

IT is asserted that, notwithstanding all the
grand new telescopes, the palm for size still be-
longs to Lord Rosse’s in Ireland.

THE largest school in the world is probably
the J ow Free school in Soitalfields, London. It
has a daily attendance of over 2,800 pupils.

THERE has been almost an epidemic of lunacy
in Luzerne county Pennsylvania, the past year,
forty-seven cases having been reported within
seven months.

THE latest piece of fashionable slang in Lon-
don is “slumming.” To “ slum ” is to visit poor
people in pOor parts of the city on missions of
mercy and charity.

A DETROIT river fisherman says that the pike
of the Straits is a very destructive fish. One
that was recently speared had swallowed an-
other pike, and that pike had swallowed a perch.

THE spruce trees on the Green Mountains in
Vermont have been attacked by some In steri-
ous disease, which is destroying them an caus-
ing no little uneasiness among the owners of
timber land.

EDWARD ADAMS, of Richmond, Mo., twelve
years of age, went hunting with two dogs, and
some hours later one of the animals returned
home and barked and nhined until Mr. Adams
followed him to the spot where the boy lay
dead, with his gun by his side and the otherdog

 

 

seen hands the lights are suddenly extinguished
in one of the rccnis, picture-frames move on
their hangings, tlxere is aloud knocking on the
walls, and the piano plays “Shall lVe Gather
at the River?” in the still hours of the night.
“A WAITER employed in a restaurant says:

Any houseteeper can prove the honesty of her
grocer or his butter by melting it. Pure butter
meltedprodutes a punt. limpid. golden Oil and
it retains the butter fiavor. Melt o'eoniarga-
rme and the Oil smells like tallow and looks like
tallow,_and a srum rises to the surlsce. Blit-
leriize is a mixture Of dairy butter and fats.
Melt that and the butter Oil will rise to the top.
Pour this Ofl’ and you will find the fats at the
bottom. wl inkh in color and giving ofi‘ a disa«
greeable smell.”

lT vs as not very many years since that a young
woman residing less than a hundred miles from
Augusta, Me, brouubt a breach of promise suit
for damages against a wealthy gentleman who
had been wtioing her. She recoverwd $5 000.
Phis became tie inundation of a large fortune.
The lady had two brothers in ordinary circum—
stances, who were employed by the day like
thousands of other workmen. The brothers en-
tered into busmess with the $5 (:00. They vi ere
shrewd, and today are one (f the wealthiest
firms in the State, employing a large number of
men.

RATHER JOHiy F. MALO, the missionary priest,
arrived in Chicago reCently with thirty-nine
half-breed Chippewa Indian children, ranging
from 9 to 15 years of age, who are to be educa-
ted tO be missionaries. Twelve of them are
boys. who are to be sent to the Christian Bro-
thers’ school near Chicago. The girls will en-
ter the school of the Lady of the Good Shep-
herd, in Milwaukee. The General Government
gives them $16? each annually. The full-blooded
Indian mothers would not consent to Fathl r
Malo‘s taking their children, and the onlv full-
blooded child that started sprung out Of the
sleigh and ran back.

THE scene Of the battle of Pittsburg Landing
was Visued the other day by a correspor dent of
the Call of Peoria. II]. He says that farmers
still gather lead and iron in the field, and that
one merchant- shipped over 3,000 pounds of Old
bullets last year. The other day a child found
a shell that exploded after it had been buried
for twenty-one years. Of the 3.500 soldiers
whose remains lie in the cemetery. 2,361 were
unrecognized. Two large iron cannon serve as
coluninsat the gate of the cemetery. The grave
nearest them is that of the "Drummer BOy of
Shiloh.” Albert Sidney Johnson died under a
large tree that stood near by: but of the tree
there is only the stump remainil g, and the spot
15 marked by a young evergreen.

.AN alarming state of affairs exists in Hart-
v11le. Wy. T., and many deeds of violence, of
which the outside world knows little or nothing,
have been committed there of late. Cowboys
and other rougbs keep peaceably disposed citi-
zens in_a constant state of terror by discharg-
ing their pistols promiscuously in the street,com-
pelling citizens to dance or sing in the high-
ways, shooting at door knobs, wagon-wheels
and other objects, and enjoying themselves gen-
erally about town in that lawless fashion
which they are proud to call peculiarly their
own. The trouble arose out of the question
whether Hartville should or should not have a
school-house. A committee of citizens decided
in the afiirmative, but the cowboys say no, and

at last accounts were unmistakabl havin
things their own way. y g

 

 

m A few Adrert'ismnents will be inserted
on this page at the rate of fifty cents per line
nonparez'l measurement.

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(1884) Chromo Cards, no 2 alike. with name,
40 100., 13 pks., $1. GEO. I. REED & CO., Nas-
' 54-26t eow

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sau, N. I.

 

 

  

 

 

. a n ' ' ' ~ ' If there he more than one correct answer, the sc-fipnd willr '  In
M - - -11 b -,.(.t Sir?” Pennington. Of course I knew that I never “Men said that. Stephen Pennington acted Eatghmih‘mi, glengtla': giighwarged While n.gang.stunt“-indplan”:tenggpl’sqllnamglgt in;
‘| fight to remain. Do you 5“ ‘0 J’ t; {hon h CBmmitted those forgeries, but for the life of me, most nobly, assuming far more than his share ‘ e 05' .35 C_1m mo - . _ figgflflggigglithiyhutgev.Wm, Mir,“ tfimmmh 7 u,_
,n Alva Pen,“ “gm” lookgd “9131111110 35.], m {ie I eclfldat guess even now, who did do it." of the losses. The misfortunes which over- THERE IS said to be a haunted house in Silver ,cfipfim‘w ,1“, E’om-e Guest, ignpage Illustfai'ul‘lhcwgdcil:

lu- he would like to Object in a fashiorrl §-1 F thy“ “Vim an air~tbat was alinOst defiant. Medea whelmed the firm were generally attributed to street, San Franctsco, occupied by a man named 11301;,3rqssgffigoegaggfiigiggaitlefiig‘2? am». an

I  limal‘atlcctihm‘ bl Simiglf  poi filing back her head and faced the can champ. the rashness of Craig Pennington, and when the , Roberts. He says the doors are opened by un— ‘ Pisubs; of‘fiém GUEST. HARTFORD, comm

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LEANING ON THE GATE.

BY H. H. JOHNSON.

 

 

They were leaning on the gate.
On her father’s door-yard gate,
Susan Jane and her lover close together;
They had often done the same—
This fair damsel and her flame—
On the evenings of the balmy Summer weather.

Now the nights were growing cold,
And the moon had grown so old_
That its dim rays shed but little light around them,
But they heeded not the chill, _
Nor the north winds from the hill,
For they only felt the ties of love that bound them.

He was saying “ Susan Jane, _

Don’t you know you ave me pain . 9
When you fiirtel with t iat fellow from the City.

You will drive me to despair,

Though of course you do not care, ' m
But when I’m dead perhaps you ll feel some pity.

“ Now you foolish, jealous Joe,”

Susan Jane said, “ don't you_know ‘ r
That my heart is wholly given in your keeping!

Thoughts of you fill ev ry day

Thou h you’re present or away, _ H
And I a ways dream of you when I am sleeping.

Then Joe hug ed her to his breast,
And a hearty ‘iss be pressed . '
On the rosy lips presented to receive it.
Oh, such joy his bosom filled! _
And such bliss his whole soul thrilled, _
‘Ihose who never felt the same would scarce beheve
it!

But, alas for happy Joe!
All his joy soon turned to woel ‘
Susan Jane’s stern father caught him by the collar,
And his boot was planted square
With the most artistic care, _ '
On a spot that made poor Joey jump and holler.

Now the lonely door-yard gate .
Bears no more the precious freight
Of the lovers leaning on its frame together;
For Joe swears he’ll surely stay
From his Susan Jane away
Till her father’s boots are made of softer leather!

 

Around the Camp-Fire.

BY CAPT. BRUIN ADAMS.

 

 

Among the Wolves.

WE pitched our camp that night in a se-
cluded valley—a most lovely spot; plenty of
fine grass for the cattle, and an abundance of
cool, clear water, that burst forth from a crev»
ice in a cliff near by.

Leaving Uncle Grizzly, Rube and the others
to make things comfortable, Captain Ringwood
and I struck back upon the trail by which we
had come, for the purpose of getting some
fresh meat for supper, that very necessary
article being entirely exhausted. We had been
traveling through the Indian country, where
villages were pretty thick, and hence were un-
able to hunt and provide material for the
larder.

That afternoon we crossed the trail of a
black bear and her cubs, some two miles back,
and we were now ruturning for the purpose of
running her to earth, if possible.

We found no diffi 3ulty in picking up the
trail, which led off toward a low range of hills
westward, and at once began following it as
fast as the nature of the ground would permit.

At the foot of a rocky eminence, where the
earth was completely covered with loose rocks
and gravel, we lost the sign. Feeling certain
that the bear had gone round the hill, and not
over it, we separated, with an understanding
where to meet, Ca tain Riiigwood taking the
left and I the right and, as We faced eastward.
By this time night was rapidly closing in, and
we saw that if anything was to be accom-
plished it must be done quickly.

The way I had chosen led up what was, at
first, a shallow valley, but which soon became
a deep ravine, and then almost a regular can-
yon, walled in by perpendicular precipices, and
great rocks piled one upon the other. _

For a moment I hesitated about entering
here. I knew not how far the place might lead
me into the mountains, nor did I think the bear
would bring her cubs over such rough country.

However, I must go on somewhere, or else
retrace my steps to the starting-place, and I
determined upon the former.

Hardly hid I entered the canyon, when the
distant howl of a mountain wolf broke upon
the silence, quickly answered by another, and
another, and so on, until I judged a full pack.
and a large one at that, were opening in full
chorus. This, however, was but of little mo-
ment. Under ordinary circumstances, these
creatures are considered harmless, or very
nearly so, being exceSsively cowardly, and
never attacking man unless driven to do so by
the pangs of long-continued hunger.

Much to my surprise, I soon discovered the
trail of the bear, where she had crossed a soft
spot of esrth, and at once I became lost to all
surroundings in the ardor of the chase.

For half a mile the sign was visible, even in
the fast-increasing gloom, but on again striking
rocky bottom it was lost.

At this point the canyon slightly widened,
one side still perpendicular, but the othersloped
upward more gradually, in places permitting
of an active man’s clambering up.

Here I determined to reach the upper ledge,
and turned to begin the asccnt, when I was ab-
ruptly brought to a standstill, by finding a huge
gray wolf blockading the way.

Not wishing to fire, I threw a stone up at the
brute, upon which he set up a bowl that was
seemingly answered from a hundred different
throats.

I now began to look seriously about me, and
it was high time, for before I had advanced
half a dozen rods, I found myself completely
surrounded by the snarling, snapping pack.

They were evidently fierce with hunger, and
ready for anything. The long, hard winter
just passed had been a trying one on their
stomachs, I have no doubt, and I soon saw that
they considered his as legitimate game.

The tug was not long in coming. A big
fellow, seemingly the leader, made a bold dash.
Him I shot with my rifle, and then, drawing
my six-shooter, I backed up against a rock, and
prepared to sell out as dearly as possible. Every
time I dropped a wolf the others would pounce
upon him, and thereby allow me time to slip in

a cartridge or two, and thus keep all the cham-\

bers ready for use.

This game continued until I had killed or
wounded some ten or a dozen of the brutes, but
they now began to show signs of impatience,
and to close in upon me.

I saw the struggle was coming, the final one,
and I knew it could have but one ending. I
might kill a dozen, or even thrice as many
more, and still there would remain more than
enough to rend me into fragments in the twink-
ling of an eye.

I now began shouting in hopes that the cap-
tain would hear and come to the rescue: but
only the echo of my own voice, mingling with
ghe Ignarls and yells of the hungry pack, came

an .

Closer and closer grew the circle of glaring
eyes and shining white teeth, the shaggy forms
of the wolves looming up to twice their size in
the uncertain light that pervaded the canyon.

A loud, fierce yell, a rush of many feet, a
sharp struggle among themselves as to who
should be first, and the whole pack ’_ were upon

me.

I fired, right and left, as fast as I could pull
back the hammer. and when all the chambers
were empty, I clubbed the rifle, and fought
with all the fury of a man who fights for life.
I felt my arm growing weak. My enemies lay
piled up around me like a breastwork, but still
the remaining ones pressed on.

In sheer desperation, I was about throwing
down my weapon, and thus end the matter,
when the welcome sound of my friend’s voice,
followed by the quick detonations of his revol-
ver, assured me that aid was at hand.

This new attack was too much for the wolves.
They broke and fled, bowling with rage up the
rocks, and soon disappeared in the darkness that
covered the mountain.

 

Plains and Mountain Men.

BY FRANK TRIPLETT.

 

 

BILL GORDON.

0F a disposition that despised the luxuries of
civilization and utterly fearless of danger, Bill
Gordon was at Once the jolliest and most reck-
less of the trappers. His first appearance
among these men was with Ashley and Henry,
though prior to that time he was noted as a
hunter and Indian fighter. _ I

In the terrible fight at the Arickara Village,
which signalized the entrance of the new com-
pany upon the field of its labors, none fought
more gallantly, or retreated more slowly than
Gordon. In the wild panic, which first suc-
ceeded to the ambush of the Arickaras, he was
one of the few who remained cool and collected
and prevented the retreat from becoming an
utter rout.

For fifteen miles the trappers, who. had re-
gained their boats, continued their flight, am-
bushed from every point of vantage along the
river-banks. At this distance the pursuit ceased
and a scout was sent to Col. Leavenworth, then
at Council Bluffs, for reinforcements.

Along with these came volunteers from a
tribe of the Sioux, and in the desperate .charge
upon the Arickara village, trapper, soldier and
Sioux vied with each other in bravery and
swept the enemy away in rapid flight. Gordon
was the first to enter the village, which was
given over to the torch and soon entirely con-
sumed.

Gordon was one of the fourteen men detached
at this point to make their way to the Yellow-
stone. They wintered in a Crow village that
winter, (1823), the Crows at that time being
at peace with the whites. The next spring the
fourteen men made their way across the moun-
tains, having daily skirmishes with the Black-
feet. On one occasion Gordon with a single
comrade was cut off from the rest of the trap-
pers and compelled to cut his way through the
surrounding Blackfeet, escaping with slight
wounds.

In the Wind River Range Gordon and Fitz-
patrick, while out on a hunting expedition,
were surrounded in camp by their enemies.
The situation was desperate, and accordingly
Gordon determined to hold a parley with the
Indians. Two chiefs stalked into the camp,

 

 

Gordon was with the party of trappers who,
first of all white men, beheld the Great Salt
Lake, an immense inland sea whose islands,
waves and wide expanse compare with the
great fresh-water seas that lie upon our north-
ern boundary. From this point the fourteen
men of Ashley and Henry went over to the
Columbia river, and upon its banks were at-
tacked by an overwhelming force of the Black-
feet and driven into and across the SWift and
ice~choked channel of that stream. Three of
the trappers were wounded and all of them lost
their guns. some of the latter being genuine
Hawken rifles, whose accuracy and long range
made them worth their weight in gold to these
adventurous men. Once safely across the
stream, the Blackfeet did not dare to follow,
and the trappers made their way to a post of
the Hudson’s Bay Company, killing game
enough with their pistols to provision them
upon the trip.

At this post they obtained a supply of guns
and returned to Salt Lake, where they trapped
for another season, and then made their way
across to the Platte river. Here they detached
seven men to go to Santa Fe for ammunition,
of which they had but a very small supply.
These seven men were never again heard .of.
Whether they perished of hunger and thirst
upon the inhospitable deserts lying between the
Platte and the New Mexican capital. or whether
they “went under” in a fight with marauding
savages or murderous “Greasers,” will never
be known. After they disappeared from the
view of their comrades not the faintest sign or
token of them was ever discovered.

On the way back to the Yellowstone, after
weeks of unavailing waiting for their comrades,
Gordon and Eddie had a desperate combat with
five Apache braves near the present site of
Boulder City, Colorado. This fight will be
more particularly described in the sketch of
Eddie, which will be given later.

After reaching the rendezvous on the Yellow-
stone, Gordon and a small party had their
horses stolen by some of the Crows, who were
ostensibly friendly, but neglected no opportu-
nity to steal a good horse, no matter who might
be its owner. Arapooish, their greatest chief.
always exerted his utmost powers to prevent
depredations upon the whites, but not even he
was able always to prevent the stealing of the
trapfirs’ horses. On this occasion Gordon fol-
10wed furiously on the trail of the thieves, and
overtaking two Crows with these. horses, he

 

lan. Striking a vast field of extinct volcanic
action, they became hemmed in, between bare,
tOWering peaks, adown a hose Sides the scoriac
rivers had rolled ages past and flooded the
Valleys at their bases With dead lava and ashen
matter, upon Whose sterile surface not even the
ub'quitous grease-wood and omnipresent sage-
brush would grow. Here they found no trace
of any living creature. and the pangs of famine
even added to the tortures of thirst which con-
sumed them. °

Thus, for days, they had wandered, and hOpe
had died out in the bosoms of all, wuen Gordon,
who still endeavored to cheer on his comrades,
saw at a distance, upon a naked plain. a solitary
buffalo bayed by a pack of starving wolves.
Calling tne attention of his comrades to the
sight, their courage revived in an instant, and
taking advantage of the torn and fissured na-
ture of the land. they crept through the ra-
vines, and surrounding the buffalo, killed it.
After a fierce fight with the wolves, to whom
hunger had lent unusual boldness and ferOCity,
the trappers butchered the tough old “ soli-
tarv” (as the older males, who are driven out of
a drove by their more youthful rivals, are
called), and made from his rank flash the most
delicious meal of their lives. Carefully sav—
mg every ounce of the precious flesh, they
were enabled to make their way out of the
lava-beds, and reached the Columbia river in
safety. _ . _

Gordon, Lajeiinesse, “Old Bill” Williams
and arother trapper, on the return from the
Columbia. separated from the main body_ for a
hunt in the mountains. They were admonished,
by Fitzpatrick and others, of their folly in thus
venturing into the strongholds of the_Black-
feet, but concluded to make the expedition at
all hazards. The second day, Lajeunesse, in
seeking to eSCape from a wounded grizzly bear,
fell from a slight precipice, and was badly in-
jured. In breiking camp the next day be was
barely able to limp along, and to add to_ their
difiiculties they were fired into by their old
enemies, and Gordon and Williams slightly
wounded. Seeking cover, they heat off the sav
ages, and continued their flight until the suffer—
ings of Lajeunesse became so great that they
saw they would either have to make a fight or de—
sert theirinjured comrade. Of course, they had
no idea of accepting the latter alternative, .and
taking advantage of a high knoll, they fortified
it with the loose rock lying all around them,
and here they determined to remain until they

‘

/
fl;

“ Drawing my six-shooter. I backed up against a rock, and prepared to sell out as dearly as possible.”

refusing the outstretched hands of the trappers
and pushing aside the offered pipe. They in-
solently demanded the arms of the white men
preparatory to their murder. Seeing that it
was useless to talk further with the savages,
Gordon, who was immensely powerful, seized
each of them by the throat and called to Fitz-
patrick to disarm them.

This was quickly accomplished, and Gordon
then told the furious Blackfeet, that if they
made an attempt to injure himself or comrade
he would kill their chiefs, and holding firmly to
his captives the trappers marched with them to
the plain at the foot of the mountain, secured a
couple of the Indian horses, released their pris-
oners and made their way back to camp.

Sympathizing with a party of Bannock In-
dians that had been robbed by the Blackfeet,
Gordon volunteered to assist them in recovoring
their horses and getting revenge for two of their
number who had been killed. Making hasty
marches, they reached a series of ravines
through which the thieves must pass, in ad-
vance of the latter, and here formed an ambush.
A few hours later the predatory Blackfeet came
carelessly along in high glee, chanting their
own praises and recounting the cowardice of
their enemies. A close volley from the con
cealed Bannocks brought most of them to the
ground, and before the others could extricate
themselves from the rough and broken grounds
the last one was slain.

To the trappers and early mountaineers the
grizzly bear (or, as this animal was then called,
the white bear,) was a formidable antagonist.
Havmg only a single—barrel rifle. loading at the
muzzle, and a pair of single-barrel pistols, they
could not pour in upon a brute or human foe
the steady stream of fire that modern breech-
loading and magazine rifles allow, and if a vital
pomt was not reached, a fierce hand-to hand
combat was sure to ensue, with all of the chances
in favor of the enraged brute. It is said, how-
ever, that Gordon encountered one in the Wind
Buyer Mountains, and having wounded it with
his rifle, failed to kill it with his pistols. The
bear rushed furiously upon him, and he had
barely time to draw his hunting-knife and stand
on the defensive when he was attacked.

The nature of the ground was such that he
could not hope to escape by flight, and when the
bear raised upon his hind legs, he was promptly
met by the brave trapper. In the struggle
which ensued Gordon was badly torn by the
teeth and claws of the bear, but finally suc-
ceeded in reaching a vital part with his long,
heavy knife and the brute fell dead. Gordon,
though faint from the loss of blood, reached
camp, when his wounds were sewed up with
fine deer smew and laved frequently with cold
water. A week of this treatment sufficed to
put Gordon on his feet, and in a short time he
was again ready for service.

 

fired upon them, killing one instantly. The
ground Was too rough and broken for the re-
maining savage to escape by flight, and he stood
likea man awaiting Gordon’s attack. Seeing
that the thief had no gun, the trapper did not
wait until he could reload, but rushed at once
upon the savage, knife in hand.

As if appreciating the fair conduct of the
white man, the Indian threw aside his bow, and
drawing his knife advanced to meet his foe.
For a full minute after meeting, the antagonists
fenced warily, each receiving a few slight
wounds. Gordon, however, at last becoming
excited, attempted to grapple with the Crow,
but the latter eluded him and slippin lightly
to one side, dealt the trapper a blow t at must
have proved fatal had it not struck upon a rib
inflicting a painful and dangerous wound. At—
tempting to step back for another stroke, the
foot of the Indian slipped, and before he could
recover himself the infuriated white man sprung
upon him with the agility of the panther and
with a terrible blow almost severed his head
from his body.

Stanching his own wounds as best he could,
Gordon mounted one of the horses, and leading
the others soon met his comrades, who were fol-
lowing for the purpose of assisting him. The
cold water treatment, the sole medicament of
the trapper, soon healed the wounds of Gordon,
and he was able to join his comrades in the se-
ries of skirmishes to which his exploit gave rise.
The Cr0ws soon discovered that they were no
match for their white antagonists, and a peace
was again made between them, and to cement
this a joint raid was made upon the Blackfeet,
which resulted in a terrible slaughter of the lat-
ter. Of course the trappers did the lion’s share
of the fighting, but this would never have been
supposed by any one who might have listened
to the ranting of the Crows during the scalp-
dances which succeeded the incursion.

Gordon returned again to the valley of the
Great Salt Lake, and the way acroas the moun-
tains was a continual battle. Every day the
trappers fought their way through the yelling
hordes of ambushed Blackfeet, who seemed de-
termined to annihilate them, and every night
their 5169 was broken by the stealthy approach
and ran om volleys of steel-pointed arrows.
Luckily for the trappers, these Indians had but
few fire-arms, and those of the poorest descrip-
tion, or they must have been blotted out by the
swarms of their enemies. As it was, they
marched and fought, keeping careful guard at
night, and at last reached the country of the
friendly Snakes, where for a week they rested
and recruited themselves and their worn-out;
horses. From here theywent toward the Colum—
bia, and unfortunately took the route down Mud
river, which had proved so disastrous to the
men of the Astor company, who had g0ne out
under the charge of Hunt, Crooks and McLel-

 

could obtain assistance from their friends, or
until Lajeunesse was able to travel.

Upon the knoll was an abundance of water,
and Gordon had suCCeeded in killing a fat buck,
so they were in no danger of suffering for want
of provisions. During the day the Indians
made several attacks, but were beaten ofl’ each
time with loss, and had finally retired sullenly
to safe distances. A messenger had been sent
from their party after the first attack, doubt—
less to summon reénforcements, and the condi—
tion of the trappers was desperate.

When night came Gordon detached the trap
per, Whose name has not reached us, telling him
to overtake their comrafes, and hurry back
with them to the rescue. Not knowing what
would be the success of his messenger, even if
he sucmeded in making his way through the
surrounding savages, Gordon strengthened his
rude fortification as much as possible. Tight
bandaging and bathing had greatly relieved La-
jeunesse, and if they could only hold out a day
lon er, he thought he would be able to travel.

he next day the Blackfeet displayed great
caution, but poured in a volley at every oppor-
tuiiity, and “Old Bill” and Lajeunesse re-
ceived slight wounds. About the middle of the
afternoon a terrific noise was heard among the
savages, all of them having apparently congre-
gate on one side to make a charge. Gordon
was not to be deceived by any savage artifice
and' looking about him for the true cause of
their yelling, he thought be detected one of
their _number. making his way toward a high
peak in the rear, from which the fortified trap—
pers would be entirely at his mercy. Gordon
supposed that this peak was cut off by a deep
layine so as to be inaccessible, except over the
kno‘lupon which he was now lying, but be de-
termined to enter a slight ravine leading to—
ward it_and ascertain with certainty. Gliding
unseen into the shullovv gulch he made his way
rapidly toward the crag and was surprised to
find. that a giga' tic pine tree lay across the
ravme, .affording an easy passway from the
other .sme. His plans were quickly made.
Crawling cautiously toward a broken mass of
gigantic rocks, that lay at the foot of the crag,
he quickly concealed himself, intending to shoot
down the approaching Indian and make his
way back to_ camp. This plan was destined to
undergo quite a change. After waiting some
time he saw the Indian cross the huge log, and
as he W'(lll(l now be in plain view from the lit-
tle fort, he threw himself upon the ground and
With the eaSe of the serpent glided toward the
crng. Seeing that the Indian’s course Would
bring him within reach of his hiding place
Gordon lowered his rifle. and grasping his toma:
hawk waited until the unconscious Blackfoot
was Within reach. A swift leap, a quick blow
and Without even time to utter his alarnl
whoop, the savage lay dead. His body was

 

 

 

 

taken up onto the crag and placed as if watch-
ing the fortified trappers, and Gordon returned
to his covert.

Two other savages were thus killed and their
bodies fixed on the crag, but just as the third
had fallen beneath his murderous tomahawk,
he heard a fierce yell and saw half a dozen
Blackfeet passing over the log. Having missed
the warriors, who had preceded them, they had
determined to go in a body and ~ee what had
become of them, with the result already shown.
As soon as Gordon saw how matters stood, he
snatched the Indian’s rifle and carrying it and
his own dashed hastily up the steep sides of the
crag. A quick volley from the savages only
succeeded in inflicting a flesh-wound, and once
on the top of the peak, the trapper dropped to
the earth and with two quick shots succeeded
in killing one savage and wounding another.
In their fury the Blackfeet forgot that they
were in plain view of the other trappers until
two more of them fell to the ground. Hastily
seeking cover, Gordon was enabled to get the
rifles of the three Indians first killed, and to re-
load his own.

He now saw that the savages were exposed,
on the side next to the fort, and watched with
anxiety as “Old Bill ” leveled his rifle, and an—
other Blackfoot leaped into the air: not dead,
but seriously wounded. Ashot from Lajennesse
failed to take effect, but the Indians saw that
they must retreat or perish, and with fierce
ye] s they broke cover and dashed across the
pine log into the rocks and timber beyond the
ravine. In executing this maneuver two more
of them fell beneath the aim of Gordon.

Night was now rapidly coming on, and Gor—
don, after taking the ammunition and arms of
the savages, retreated to the fortified camp,
confident that there would be no further attack
until reéinforcements for the Blackfeet should
arrive. On reaching the camp he found Lajeu—
nesse greatly improved, and suggested a hasty
retreat. Already the howling sav _es had be-
gun to kindle their signal-fires, an he knew
that by the next day they Would be surrounded
by hundreds of the Blackfeet. “Old Bill” was
anxious “ to stay and fight it out,” but finally,
after breaking up the captured arms, so as to
render them unserviceable, they kindled up
their fires, made dummies to deceive their on-
emies and began their retreat, escaping with—
out further trouble.

Gordon, years afterward. while escorting a
train across the Santa Fé trail encountered some
of his old foes, the Blackfeet, who were out on
a war-party. Dashing furiously down upon the
train, they seemed thun derstruck at the sight of
the ‘ Mad Buffalo,” as they had named him,
and wheeling upon their horses were soon out of
sight. It was evident that they considered him
invincible and did not care to risk acombat
with any party under his command.

Gordonhad often boasted that no Indian bul-
let would ever kill him. His words were pro-
phetic. Crossing the Yellowstone one day, in
the midst of a fierce storm, he was struck by
lightning and instantly killed. ’l‘lius perished
one of the bravest of a band of hardy heroes,
WhOSe daring has neVer been excelled, and be
was buried by his comrades upon the banks of
the brawling stream upon which he met his
death.

 

Telephone Echoe _:.

 

MANY a man who wears glossy boots shines
at the wrong extremity.

THE Congressional plan is to put a man on a
committee where he will not do the most good.

l'r speaks well for Michigan that a lecturer
was allowwl to attain the age of 108 in that
State.

WHEN you see a counterfeit coin on the side—
walk :tlways pick it up. You are liable to ur-
rest if you try to pass it.

CAN the man who keeps puttingr (picstiou
marks oppOsite underlined passages in borrowed
books be said to speculate in margins?

DON‘T think, young man, that just because it
is leap year you are going to be snapped up
right away. The girls want a chance to look
b‘fore they lcup.

A LITTLE six year-old witness at court. proved
her right to be sworn by saying that she “ went
regularly to church and Sunday-school and
once to a church fair.”

IT is bad enough to have to sit on the cold
seat of a horse—car until you warm it; but to
have to “move up ” two or three times and
warm as many seats is depressing.

“ THE stage waits for you, miss,” exclaimed
a manager at rehearsal to a newly—fledged
society actress. “ That is impossible, sir,” re-
plied Miss Beauty; “ I always ride in a coupé.”

AN English servant—girl who had returned
from the United States to visit her friends at
home was told that she “looked really aristo-
cratic.” “ Yes, in America all of us domestics
belong to the hire class.”

A LITTLE child of Rutland, Vt., becoming
wearied with the quarreling of two younger
children over a glass of milk, exclaimed:
“What’s the use of fighting forever over that
milk? There's a whole cowt‘ul out in the barn.”

AN ornithologist has discovered that to have
an appetite proportional to that of a robin a
man would have to devour dailya string of
sausages sixty-seven feet lon and nine inches
in piameter. Make a “bob 0 link” of himself,
in act.

_ A MAN always finds out when there is a hole
in the bottom of his stocking. He makes the
discovery when he takes his boots off at night
and puts his feet down on the hot register to
warm._ He rarely forgets to speak right out
about it.

A BICYCLE club composed wholly of temper—
anca men has been formed in London. The
popular idea, however, is that a drunken man
isinever injured bya fall, and in accordance
With that idea temperance and bicycling would
be inconsistent.

LITTLE Johnnie and Mary were sitting on an
ottoman in rather close quarters. Bot-h realized
the crowded situation of affairs, and it was
finally righted by Johnnie, who said, “Mary,
therewould be more room for me on this outer—
man if one of us was to get off.”

DOcTOR, advising young lady to have her
clothing suspended from her shoulders, instead
of from her waist. T.) illustrate he said: “ See
how men are supported—” “ Yes,” retorted
the young lady, “ that’s so; see how many poor
women have to support their husbands.” And
that ended the lecture.

“ NOW,” said the irate mother to her family
of one boy and four girls, who had been misbe-
having themselves, “I am going to whip you
all,” and she seized on Jimmy to receive the
first installment ofthechastisement. “Mother ”
said Jimmy, “ladies first, always.” The 0 d
lady was so struck with the npplication of her
own instruction that she did not strike any of
the children, but let them off that time.

A WRITER in a juvenile magazine lately gath-
ered a number of dictionary words as defined
by young people, of which the following seem
to be genume: “ Dust—Mud with the juice
squeezed out. Fan—A thing to brush warm off
With. Ice—“'ater that staid out in the cold and
went to sleep. Monkey—A very small boy with
a tail. Pig—A hog‘s little boy. Salt—What
makes your potuto taste bad when you don‘t
put any on. Snoring—Letting off sleep. Wake-
fulness—Ey es all the time coming unhuttoned.”

“1_ NOTICE in the iaper that it is no longer
fashionable for the minister to kiss the bride at
the wedding ceremony,” said a wife to her hus-
band, who was a clergyman. “ Yes,“ sadly re-
sponded the good man, with a long-drawn sigh
“ many of the plea~ant features connected With
the old fashioned wedding ceremony have been
discarded, and—v” “\Vhat’s that!" demanded
his wife, ominously. “ l-I mean,” he stam—
mered, “that the senseless custom of kissin
the bride should have been abolished long ago 5
“ Oh!" replied the mollified lady, resuming her
paper.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

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