THIRD EDITION.

 

    
 

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Entered at the Post Office at New York. N. Y., at Second Class Mail Ra Copyright.   ADLIS. July 8. 1884.
V Sin 10 PUBLISHED \V EEK LY BY UEADLE AND ADMIS, Price,  
' Nun er- No. 98 WILLIAM STREET. NEW YORK. 5 Cents- ' °

 

 

 

 

 

firm: 1011111110; or, The Outcasts of the Glen.

BY PHILIP S. WARNE,

AUTHOR or “PATENT-LEATHER JOE,” “ DEBPABD, THE 0131111151," “ ALWAYS ON HAND," 110., no.

 

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Little Tornado.

 

 

 

Little Tornado;

The Outcasts of the Glen.

A Story of the Prairie.

 

BY PHILIP S. WARNE.

AUTHOR or "PATENT-LEATHER JOE ” SERIES,
“DESPARD THE DUELIs'r,” “ ALWAYS-
ON-HAND,” ETC, ETC., mo.
CHAPTER I.

DON'T BE so FRESH!

SIX months before the date of our stor an
emi rant-train, compo’sed of steady- oin ,ew
Eng and farmers, with their wives an cbi dren,
found in the northeastern corner of New Mexico
an oval-shaped glen, of not more than twelve or
fifteen miles in circumference, shut in by low
hills, and surrounded by the level prairie, like
an oasis in the desert.

Naming this beautiful spot Glen Eden, they
apportioned the land between them, turned 11
the rich black loam and scattered their See ,
while they continued to live in their white—
tilted wagons; then, when the rain and sunshine
were at work for them, felled timber and built
houses for themselves and inclosures for their

stock.
Lon before their grain had ripened, Glen
Eden came a stopping-place for other adven-

turers to the new El Dorado, and for men of all
nationalities and occupations, who were con-
stantly drifting about the country, from the
fickle old-hunter, leaving certain “ hard-luck ”
behintf, in quest of “ better luck next time,” to
the wealthy‘ ranchero, seeking a market for
a thousand ead of cattle.

Commandant Thurston and his family lived
in a house considerably more commodious with-
in and pretentious without than the sim ler folk
who looked up to him as their leader. ike the
castle of a feudal baron, his home was built with
a view to defense in war and was set upon a
slight elevation near the head of the glen, and
surrounded by a stockade.

Before the Glen Eden inn, on a sultry after
noon, late in the season, when the grain was
nodding its greenish-yellow heads, almost ready
for the cradle, lounged two men of rather sinis-
ter aspect.

One was a giant in stature, with a shock
of bristling red hair and a scrubby and tobacco-
stained chin.

He was dressed in a slouch hat, gray woolen
shirt, and brown canvas overalls, tucked into
the tops of wrinkled and horn-hard c0whide
boots. A fancy Indian bead belt supported a
brace of huge revolvers, which, as he was fond
of boasting, he meant to mount on gun carriages
“ as soon as they were old enough to vote,” while
a bowie ponderous in pro rtion was thrust into
his boot-leg, after the sty e inaugurated in Mis-
sissippi. '

From the color of his hair, this man was call-
ed Colorado—Spanish for red—Steve.

His companion was a dap er little S aniard,
arrayed in all the gaudly splendor of a exican
dandy. From the gay si k handkerchief wrapped
about his head beneath his sombrero, to the Jin-
gling spurs that adorned the heels of his moroc-
co bott‘as, he was “got up to kill!”

Colorado Steve was balancin his huge body
on the hitching-bar, hacking With his bewie the
wood between his pendulous legs, while Senor
Ramirez stood with one elegantly-booted foot
on the edge of the water—trough, nervously
lashing his instep with a riding- ip.

“Mira f” [Behold !] he sudden y exclaimed,with

a stare of min led hate and admiration and-

hungry desire t at was little short of satanic.
“The commandant’s daughter l—the fair Senor-
ita Ruth!”

“ Waal,” said Colorado Steve, looking with
dull interest in the direction taken by his com-
nanion’s eyes, “of that thar tow-head is your
style, ye’re welcome to her; but give me the
black-eyed Wenus that’s a-swingin an’ a-sway-
in’ beside herrlike a limber statoo. Hang yer
midgets! A man wants somethin ur nothin’ fur
his money when he invests in a housekeeper.”

“0a. ital” hissed the Spaniard, with ascr-

nt si e—glance of disgust at his companion;

hen. schoolin his face to more winning looks,
he began to p ume himself after the manner of
the “ masher” the world over.

Ruth Thurston was petite and flaxen-haired
with peach-bloom cheeks, eyes like a wildwood
Violet, and lips the color of the inner surface of
ates-shell. She earned her broad-brimmed

 

straw hat, filled with prairie .flowers, basket-

wise, with her arm through the knotted ribbons.

She was cr0wned with a loosely-woven garland,

lwith trailing ends mingling with her disheveled
air.

Madeline Fortescue was a rustic goddess, fair
and tall, with her purple-black hair braided in
a single heavy plait and coiled about the top of
her head like a tiara. Instead of flowers, she
bore a sheaf of grasses and ferns on her arm.
Her complexion was a pure dead white; but
lher lips were full and of a deep, rich, vivid scar-

et.

At sight of the men they would have to en-
counter before the tavern, gentle Ruth stopped
swinging her hat and let the song die on her li ,
while she drew nearer to her companion, t e
soft bloom fading out of her cheek.

“ Look, Maddie!” she said in a low tone,
“there is that horrid Ramirez! Can’t we pass
to the other side of the road, and avoid meeting
him face to face?”

“ Not We!" replied the holder Madeline, with
a flash of the eye and a proud lifting of the
head, while two spots of angry vermilicn ap-
peared in her cheeks. “ If there were no other
objection, it would be letting them see that we
attach too much importance to their insolence.”

As the girls came up, Senor Ramirez, dofling
his hat with a grace that would have become a
cavalier, stopped across their path, so as to in-
tercept the commandant’s daughter.

“ Pardonn, Meez Tourstonnl” he said, bowing
low, with a smile that was even more calculated
to frighten the innocent girl than his frown.
“If it will please you, of your gracious—”

But with a murmur of apprehension, faint-
hearted little Ruth had shrunk close to the side
of her companion, clutching her hand spas-
modically, and staring from behind her at the
man who had presumed to address her, as a
(firightened child peers from behind its mother’s

ress.

Brave Madeline had taken a cross-step before
her protegee, so as to oppose her dauntless front
and blazing eyes to the insinuating Spaniard,
and had lifted her arm with a. gesture that
would haVe done honor to a queen of the Ama-
zons.

“ Allow us to pass, sirl” she demanded, eying
him unflinchingly, while the hectic of annoy-
ance fled from her cheek, to give place to white-
lipped indignation. " You are insolent! W'hat
right have you to stop us in the open street?”

Senor Ramirez bowed even lower before this
haughty young queen, with the smile of the
quivering lip, while his eyes Seemed to dart
serpent tongues of fury at her from under his
black brows.

“ Pardon. senorita!” he said, not yielding his
place. “ My address was to the gracious daugh-
ter of the commandant.”

“That was very evident, sir!” retorted Ma-
deline, as firmly as be; “but the daughter of
the commandant does not know you, and, what
is more, has no desire to. Step out of our ath,
or you will learn that the women of Glen den.
cannot be insulted with impunity l”

Thus far Colorado Steve had sat with a broad
grin of amusement and admiration on his re-
pulsive phiz. He n0w burst into a gruff:

“Haw! haw! haw! haw l”

Senor Ramirez turned livid with rage.

“.The senorita is quite tragic for the daughter
of a tiller of the soil!” he sneered, with a still
deeper bow. “But it is for the lady of nobler
descent to dismiss one whose respect is as pro-
found as his admiration.”

“ You insolent loafer!” cried the Yankee girl,
stam ing her foot and clinching her hand.

“ ome away, Maddie!” cried Ruth, dragging
at her companion’s sleeve. “Let’s go into the
tavern,” and turning to beat a-hasty retreat,
she espied just appearing in the doorway, a
cham ion to whom she appealed, all in a panic.

“ i, Sidney! Sidney! ’

He was a fine young stripling of not more
than seventeen or ei hteen, with a frank, fear-
less countenance, an wearin the full buckskin
dress of the border hunter. is hair dark chest-
nut, and his eyes gray, with the piercing glance
of an eagle’s. His form. although not yet filled
out to the proportions of manhood, showed that
no mean muscular development lay beneath the
close-fitting buckskin.

He was Madeline Fortescue’s brother, and by
the impetuosity of his assault, in hostile fight or
friendly contest, had won the sobriquet of Little
Tornado.

In this instanCe he proved that the name was
well deserVed: for scarcely was his name past
the lips that—shall we tell it so sooni—he loved,
when he swooped down upon Ramirez, it seemed
with a single ound.

 

That persistent allant received warning just
in time to partia 1y parr a blow that would
have knocked him over t e water-trough into
the muddy pool that the horses’ hoofs had made
on the other side; but he staggered under the
impetus of the body that colli ed with his as if
shot out of a mortar, barely saving himself
from sprawling with his pure Castilian nose in
the dirt.

“Waal, now, I reckon this hyar business
belongs to me!” cried Colorado Steve, and leap-
ing from the hitching-bar, he caught Little
Tornado by the throat almost at the instant of
the shock that overthrew his partner, and by a
skillful twist and an exertion of his great
strength threw him on his back.

The women both screamed with fright at this
misadventure of their oung champion; but
now the whilom timid uth, instead of flyin
as she had been on the point of doing, foun
courage—where the gentlest of her sex always
do, in her love—to spring to his side, to lift his
head from the ground.

Such was her purpose; but he was up before
she had more than touched him.

However, another was before him. From
round the corner of the building. in the direc-
tion of the stables, had appeared a man who in
point of physique need ask little favor of even
Colorado Steve;

His garments, of stout material, selected for
service rather than show, were worn carelessly,
yet not without a certain free grace. His full
beard was so straggling and unkempt that at
first glance one would be apt to set him down as
arough old scout or guide. A second, more
scrutinizing look might give the impression that
a tasteful barber and gents’ fiirnisher would
make a very marked c'. huge in his appearance.

He answered without reluctance to the name
of Old Bunccmb, though Miss Fortescue never
heard him so addressed or referred to without a
thrill of indignant protest.

As a fact, this name, based on the Yankee
story of a lawsuit in which a“ buncomb ” fence
is defined as “ hoss high, bull strong, and pig
tight,” was a compliment to Hugh Bunker’s
physical rowess and personal trustworthiness.

“Waaf I swear!” was Old Buncomb’s brief
comment on the situation, and picking SenOr '
Ramiriz up from the ground, he soused him
into the horse-trough with a splash that sent
the water flying over every member of the
party. .

They all seemed disposed to forgive him, save
and except only Senor Ramirez, who seramhled
to his feet and stood up in what water was left
out of the troughful that had received him,
gasping and spluttering and blinking his eyes
and holding his arms away from his body,
while the water trickled in musical mile from
his wilted finery.

Colorado Steve was mightily tickled, though
he felt called upon to spring at Old Buncomb,
whipping out his bowie.

But spry Little Tornado was on his feet
again. and appeared before him With a cocked
revolver, which he thrust fairly into the giant’s
face.

“Let up, sweetheart!” cried Little Tornado
in accents which had a clear metallic ring in
them which meant mischief, as did the steady
light in his gray eyes. ,

“My bantam,” re lied the giant. looking
down upon the boy w 0 brand him, “ye’re lit—
tle, but ye’re loud. I hear ye!”

And quite good-naturedly he returned to his
bootleg the weapon which he would cheer-
fully have sheathed under Old Buncomb’s ribs,
and resumed his seat on the hitching-bar as
quietly as if nothing unusual had haPPtmed.

“ Mil diablos I” screamed Senor Ramu‘eZ, who
had by this time sufficiently recovered his pres-
ence of mind to leap out of the drinking trough
“are we to have no revenge, then? Blood 0
the martyrs! I would have the hearts of these
accursed Americanos .”’

And standing with his back_curved and his
head thrust forward, while his shortened lip
showed his teeth set edge to edge, he made
quick clutches with his handshas if he Werp in
imagination tearin those indispensable organs
out of his enemies’ dies.

“ Jest so.” drawled Colorado Steve, as if his
partner had expressed a very natural and quite
ordinary desire; “ but I wouldn’t take ’em
now." .

Hi; late opponents stared at this strange col-
league who took tbe business of chafling his
partner out of their hands.

Steve himself seemed to be unconscious of
any incongruity in this. He was quite serious.

The fact was that, although he “ ranged” with
the Spaniard, he had a borderman’s thorough-

 

 

 

going contempt for him as a “cowardly
reaser,” and took no pains to conceal the fact.
Ramirez often writhed under this scorn; bill. be
found Steve too useful to break with him.

Now, however, maddened by this public
mockery—for quite a little crowd had gathered
from within the tavern and the stables—he
shrieked out a string of Spanish imprecations,
and swore by the bones of his ancestors to have
the heart’s blood of every one there present.

“Thar! thar! that’ll do. Johnny l” said his
unsympathetic partner, with some show of im-
patience. “Hain’t you white-livered Greasers
got nothin’ at all in ye butjest wind? Ye make
me dog sick, I’ll sw’ar! Hold ofi.’ when ye’ve
got yer stomick full—that’s my motto.”

Whereupon the victim of insult added to in-
jury turned u n his disaflected partner, and
fell to upbraiding him for his desertion.

Colorado Steve abandoned his perch on the
hitching-car, strode. up to the exas rated
'Spaniard, coolly took him by the colm, and
turning to Old Buncomb, asked, as if making
illilqlujiry as to the best disposal of a petulant
c i ' :

“ What shall I do with him, boss? I feel sor-
ter’sponsible fur him when he gits this hyar
way, the which it’s more frequenter than you’d
think.”

. “I’ll tell you what you shall do with him!”
later sed Little Tornado, with no abatement
-of his resentment, for all that he voted the
‘thin “ a queer go.”

“ aal, chicken,” assented Steve, cheerfully.
“‘Ireckon it don't matter much who has the
yzo’rd. Spit ’er out red-hot while ye’re about
,, 0
“You will take him out of this settlement,
and yourself with him; and you will make him
understand—not forgetting to keep a share of
the knowledge for yourself—that if he is ever
caught within the circumference of these bills
again, he will be tied up to a tree and treated
'to twenty cuts of a rawhide over his bare
back!” .

Colorado Steve turned to Old Buncomb with
anod and a grin, and obserVed with confiden-
tial enthusiasm:

“ But ain‘t he a stinger?”

Then turning again to Little Tornado, he

said:

.“Thankee! thankeel But ef this hyar pore
pickin’s had your pluck along 0’ his savy, he’d flax
ye yet. .Maybe before ye git through with it,
me an’ him Will manage to give ye some leetle
spew, fur the time you ve put into the thing, as
i is.

Surely no one but Colorado Steve ever deliv-
ered a threat in so friendly a tone, and with so
genial asmile. The ladies, though they heard
every word, Were so completely misled by his
manner that they did not catch their signifi-
cance.

Senor Ramirez, however, knew him well
enough to understand that the game was not yet
up, though he yielded the first hand. He there-
fore the more readily submitted to be led away.
11' there was to him a are deli ht, it was the
chance to harbor a gru go and ream over the
pound pf.fiesh. that he would exact. He would
feasthis imagination on it, and invent so many
fiendisth delightful tortures, that, before the
opportunity offered to put any one of them into
eXecution, it really seemed a loss to accept one
in fact and lose al the rest in fancy.

Old Buncomb knew a thing or two about men'
and when the pair had mounted their horses and
ridden out of the glen, Senor Ramirez shaking
his fist and swearing eternal Vengeance, while
Colorado Steve waved his hand in friendly fash-
ion and grinned his good-will,—when the ladies
had been escorted home. congratulating them-
selves and complimenting their champions on the
happyissue of the fracas,—then he said to Little
Tornado:

“Bo , We hain’t heared thelast o’ the Outcasts
0’ the len, ye onderstandl”

And Little Tornado replied:

“ Let ’em come! I allow they’ll find us one too
man for ’eml”

“ hope so. I hope so,” returned Old Bun-
comb, meditatively.

 

On the outside of the hills that shut in Glen
Eden, looking toward the west, where the ser-
rated peaks loomed blue in the distance, stood a
girl shading her eyes with her hand, while she
gazed after the retreating outcasts as the
skimmed the prairie with the fleet, loping gait
to which plains horses are trained.

She was tall and straight as an arrow. Her
brown skin declared her Indian blood; but it
was toned by a Caucasian mixture to a clear,
smooth olive, through which the rich tide of

 

Little Tornado.

life mantled in her cheeks with that loveliness
which sometimes, but not alwa s, comes of
blended races. Her features, ollowin the
European mold, borrowed an uplifted no ility
from the barbaric pride of one line of her an-
cestors. Her hair, straight and coarse, and of
a dead black, hung down her back in a single
heavy plait. Her dress was civilized, if We ex-
Cept the moccasins she wore, but was tricked
out with bits of savage ornament which well
became her wild beauty.

This girl, with the stoicism of her mother’s
people, stood as motionless as a statue, gazing
out over the prairie, until the figures of the
horsemen dwindled to mere specks in the dis-
tance, only distinguishable because in motion,
and lost beyond recovery the moment the eye
was taken off of them—and then vanished
among the foot-hills. Only her eagle eye could
have followed them so far.

The expression of her face, clouded with
brooding melancholy, never changed. When at
last she turned away with a profound sigh. she
walked with drooping head and sad eyes fixed
immovably on the ground, and with a tread as
heavy as if her lithe limbs, that one felt might
outleap the roe, were loaded with chains.

What were the Outcasts of the Glen to her 5’

 

CHAPTER II.
“ mOUBLE BEGINS.”

“ OH, how beautiful! And, see! see! what a
sweet little fawn! Oh, Sidney l—don’t shoot I”

But the petition came too late. The sharp,
spat-like crack of a carbine was heard and lost
with the abruptness with which sounds die on
the open prairie, where there is nothing to pro-
long the echo, and a doe, which had just sprung
from the c’ovar of a matte which dooted the
plain like an overgrown clump of shrubbery in
a landscape garden, leaped into the air and fell
in a heap, while a fawn, which had followed its
dam too late to purchase her safety through the
pity its beauty and hel lessness inspired, ran
round the quivering and eebly-struggling body.
whimpering plaintively—and, lastly, a stag sped
away like the wind.

“ Oh, what a pity l—what a perfectly dread—
ful pity l” sighed tender-hearted Ruth Thurston,
quick tears suifusing her blue eyes. “ Sidney,
how could you?"

“ But, Ruth,” pleaded the too skillful marks-
man, “ how could I know about the fawn,
which you yourself did not see until it was too
late?’

“Well, anyway, it seems cruel to kill such
innocent, helpless creatures at all.”

And leaping from her horse, which was too
well-trained to need hitching, she plucked a
handful of tender grass, and holding it out in-
vitingly, approached the timid orphan with
words of endearment and sympathy, spoken in
low, cooing intonations.

“Well, for a girl who loves venison as well as
you do, that seems to me a little ungraciousl”
said young Fortescue, with a good-natured
smile. “ But I’m sorry to have distressed you—
I needn’t say that.”

However, Ruth was too busy striving to win
the confidence of the little animal tolisten to
reproach or regrets.

Her companions—Sidney, Madeline and Old
Buncomb—sat their horses quietly, so as not to
increase the difficulties of the task, while they
awaited the is<ue.

After lea ing away several times, the fawn
stopped an stretched its neck out toward her,
waving its dainty muzzle up and down while it
snuffed the air; then, as she sunk softly down
on the grass, still inviting it with extended
hand and wooing murmurs, it approached her
cautiously, step by step, until it could nibble
her white fingers. As she drew the hand slowly
toward her. the little creature followed, so that
presently she had her arms about its neck, and
was kissing and crying over it: and the con-
quest of love and pity was complete.

“Oh! isn’t it lovely? Poor little thing!” she
murmured, taking a ribbon from her own
throat to tie about its neck. “ How it ants
and tremblesl And just see the tears in its
eyes! If it were a baby it couldn’t cry more
naturally. Oh, I mean to keep it and bring it
up so tenderly that it will never miss its poor
dead mammal"

The others now drew near, but the little ani-
mal shrunk closeto the side of its first confi-
dante; so that Ruth laughed and cried together
with delight, as she hugged it to her, murmur-

ng:
“0h! do you see? It loves me alread ! was
there ever anything half so sweet? _ addie,

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4

you can’t coax it away from me. Oh, you
ittle love 1”

This innocent sport engrossed all of them so
that the time passed unheeded, until Old Bun-
comb suddenly woke to the fact that the sun
hung just abOVe the snowcapped peaks that
bordered the western horizon.

“ Hallo!” he exclaimed sharply. “It’s get-
ting late! We’ll have to let up on this foolery,
if we want to get hot johnny-cake for supper.”

“But what shall I use for a leash?” cried
Ruth, far more interested in her fawn than in
her supper.

But her words were cut short by a sharp cry
from Old Buncomb.

From the force of habit he had swept the
plain with his eye, until it was suddenly arrest-
ed by some distant object. Then with that
start ed cry he ut one foot in she stirrup,
Sprung so as to p ace the other in the saddle,
and stood upright on his horse’s back.

One lightning glance, that shot like a dart
straight to its mark, and he leaped to the ground
again, shouting:

“To horse! to horse! The red. devils are
sweeping dewn upon us like the wind 1”

Catching Madeline off her feet, he set her
in her saddle before she had time for a second
breath. Leaving Sidney to perform the same
office for Ruth, be bounded to his Own place
without using the stirrups.

Sidney was used to situations where life and
death were determined by the Seizing upon or
letting slip a second of time. He knew that
when Old Buncomb sent forth such a note of
warning, it was no time to palter. So without
stopping to look for himself—there would be
plenty of time for that when he was well in the
saddle—he cried sharply:

U  E”

And Ruth‘s little mare sprunglto his side as
promptly as if she had been a uman being,
instead of a dumb brute.

To swing a young lady, especially if she is
pretty, from the ground to her saddle, is a very
romantic thing; so it is a pity that all lovers
are not equal to the task.

Sidney confessed his inability by resting his
hand, palm upward, on his knee.

The lightness with which Ruth leaped to her
seat, scarcely touching his hand with her dainty
foot, made it look as if it would have been an
easy task.

Even with life in the balance, her love was
not lost in selfishness.

“Oh! it breaks my heart to leave my poor
little fawn! If I could only hold it in my
arms!”

But men’s hearts are of tougher material.
No one answered her. Sidney’s eyes shot over
the prairie as he bestrode his steed.

Some distance out from the foot-hills, and the
less clearly discernible because they were be-
tween the eye and the sun, with the shadowed
landscape at their backs, he saw a long line of
horsemen. sweeping across the plain like a flock
of wild ducks. '

His practiced eye told him that they were a
band of Apaches, perhaps a hundred strong.

It was evidently their purpose to throw for-
ward their flanks, surround the group, and so
take them all alive.

At sight of the horsemen the girls were dis-
mayed, and were on the point of lashing their
horses into a perfect stampede- co in the op—
positedirection, where, on the rim of the hori-
znn, the verdure-clad hills which inclosed Glen
Eden stood out in bold relief a ainst the sky.

“Keep cool!” cried Old uncomb. “We
have start enough to keep them at a safe dis-
tance; and nothing is gained by frightening

your horses.”

Submitting1 to his dictation, they ut their
horses into t e swinging lope with w ich the
could cover mile after mile of the level prairie
without abatement of 8 ed. It was really
very rapid. but it seem agonizingly slow to
the girls when from the rear was borne to their
ears a chorus of furious yells.

R“ ‘(3b! they will surely overtake usl" cried

ut .

But Madeline rode with closed lips.

“ Do you think they intend to attack the
glen?” asked Sidney.

“ I do,” replied Old Buncomb.

“ Then our people ought to be warned.”

“ I was about to propose that.”

“ Couldn’t you leave the girls to me, and by
veering off to the south, run the glen length-
(vividsg, and reach the stockade about the time we

1 . '

Old Buncomb looked at his companion and
laughed.

‘° You’re a cool youngster,” he said.

 

 

 

 

  

  

4

' (A Flt"; 3i

rv r \Vhfiq.

Little Tornado.

 

 

Little Tornado flushed quickly and hotly.

“ Why? What’s the matter with that pro-
position?” he asked, with brightening eye.

“ Oh, nothing. I was only admiring the grace
with which you took the man’s part on yourself
and vs me the boy’s.”

“ oy’s!” cried Little Tornado, now thorough-
ly roused, for if anything in the world nettled
him it was to be considered in anything short of
manhood.

And to have his youth thrown in his teeth in
the hearing of Ruth Thurston!

“ If you call me a boy, I should like to know
where you get your men ?”

Old Buncomb laughed again, a low, pro-
longed chuckle. The air of this young bantam
so tickled his midrifl' that he forgot the probable
effect of letting his amusement be seen.

Little Tornado’s anger burst into a blaze.

“You can look after your lady, and I will
look after mine: and the glen can go to the—”

“ 0h, Sidney! Sidney l” broke in Ruth, shocked
beyond words to tell.

‘Well; a man is made of flesh and blood,
ain’t he?’ was Little Tornado’s defense.

“ But then Mr. Bunker is older than you,”
urged Ruth, gently.

‘Oh, yes! he’s old enough i” cried Little
Tornado, with a chuckle on his side.

At that his sister flushed from chin to temple.

“ Sidney Fortescne you ought to be ashamed
of yourself!” she cried. “ If you have a spark
of manhood about you, you will apologize at
once for such rudeness."

“ I haven’t—not a spark! I am surprised that

on should expect it after Old Buncomb has
inst told you of my deficiency in that respect.

0, you see, he’s the last one to demand an
apology on that score.”

But Little Tornado was now in that sort of
good-humor which we enjoy when we feel that
we have given our neighbor as good as he sent.

“ Sidney!” appealed little Ruth, very faintly,
feeling worse and worse that he of whom she
was generally so proud should “ behave so.”

“ Meanwhile,” said Miss Fortescue, with
haughty displeasure, “the helpless women and
chi! ren must be exposed to the most cruel of
deaths, that your vanity—”

“ There! there! I’m off l” said Little Tornado,
suiting the action to the word. “But remem-
ber,” he called back to Ruth, “1 abandon you
at our own bidding.” I

uth did not rep g in words, but gave him a
look that ought to ave healed any wounds he
had received elsewhere. Whatever others
mi ht say, he was a hero to her!

either of the ladies had dared to look at Old
Buncomb, fearin toencounter a cloud of re-
sentment on his ace. But it was because they
did not know him well. He was mightily de-

‘ lighted to have the ladiestake his part so warm-

iy.

“ Don’t spare horse-flesh !” he called out to
Little Tornado pleasantly. “ You’ve got a
god mount. flow let’s see you make it tell.

member, women and children take more
time to move than men.”

“ You shall be the judge!” answered Little
Tornado, now yielding to the excitement of a
contest; “ and if you do the man’s part as well
as I do the boy’s, we’ll shake hands on it!”

By this time his divergent course had in-
creased the gap between them so as to preclude
further conversation; but the distance was not
too great for Ruth to flash a glance of grateful
admiration over to him.

Then he dug spurs into his horse’s flanks, and
skimmed away over the rolling prairie like an
albatross riding the ocean swells.

His horse, with his muzzle thrust forward
until his head was in a straight line with his
neck, hugged the round until he seemed to
float on the to s of t e coarse prairie grass, with
his legs swing ng free under him.

Thus he clove the air like a thunderbolt,
widening the gap between him and the pursuing
savages, and advancing over his course much
more rapidly than his riends did over theirs.

From time to time Little Tornado looked back
to see how they were getting on, when suddenly
he brought up With a cry of dismay.

Something had happened to the other party.
He could see but one coursing ahead, n0w at a
speed which showed that the horse was being
11er to the utmost.

he distance was too great to be sure of even
the sex of the rider, though he thought that he
could now and then catch the flutter of a loose
garment. -

A moment later be discovered a second flyin
figure. Here as before he seemed to make on

4 the flutter of a dress.

Running his eye back and forth between the

 

mouth of the pass for which they were making
and the pursuin savages, he assured himself
that these two gures were the only ones to be
seen. , ,
What did this signify? If these were the
girls—and the fact that they were separated
seemed to tell in that direction, for he knew
that, while Old Buncomb was too Well mounted
to be left behind, he would not abandon either
of his charges, however hard beset—what 
then become of the scout? And if the girls,
which was lagging behind?

In either case it meant sharp. pain for him. In
such a strait who could make choice between
sister and sweetheart?

With a sinking heart, Little Tornado meas—
ured the distance, and saw that it would be
madness to attempt to reach them. The sav-
ages, leaving him to go his way, had kept
straight on afterthe others, and Were now
nearer them than he was.

His onl hope was to keep on, flash through
the len rom end to end, and meet them from
the irection of the stockade, if it were not then
too late!

Setting his teeth, and bending forward until
be nearly lay along his horse’s neck, he now
goaded im more fiercely, more persistently,
than ever.

Into the glen he dashed, discharging his re-
volvers, one in either hand, and yelling at the
to of his lungs.

en who were mowing hag, dropped the
scythe and ran toward their ouses, without
waiting to make out exactly what he said.
Others who were using horses, cut them loose
from stone~boat or log-chain leaped u n their
backs, and lashed them with the an s of the
reins.

Al! knew Little Tornado, and that he would
not spread such an alarm as this for a “ lark.”

All in a moment this peaceful spot was turned
into a pandemonium. Men shouted, women
screamed, and children walled with terror at
the nnwonted excitement of their elders.

As an express train sucks dry leaves after it

.in the eddy which it makes, Little Tornado

seemed to gather up armed men, who with their
families followed on in his wake as fast as they
could.

Never was such a ride. The boy, half crazed
with suspense, had annihilated s e and time.
All was wild excitement behin him; but his
heart sunk as it a peared to him that the peace
before was distur only by the sounds he fol-
lowed almost as fast as they flew before him.

;tht had become of Old Buncomb—his sister
— ut ?

 

CHAPTER lIL
A BID]: FOR LIFE.

WHEN Little Tornado had left his friends ata
pace which carried him ahead of them as well
as to the right, three pairs of eyes followed him
admiringl .

Although she had sided against him. as sisters
generally do, in his tilt with Old Buncomb,

adeline could not help being proud of her
brother.

Old Buncomb cast a sly glance at Ruth, and
saw her face aglow and her eyes sparkling.
Then he said:

“ There isn’t his match, of his years, between
the two oceans!”

Ruth flashed a grateful look at the speaker,

and crimsoned to the roots of her hair with.

pleasure.

“ You are not—not—annoyed with him?” she
ventured, timidly:

“ With Little Tornadol—a boy that I’m proud
to call my pard? I guess not!” cried Old Bun-
comb, heartily.

“ Oh, I’m so glad!”

And with aswelling heart the little maiden
drew nearer to the scout, and kept this place for
the rest of their ride.

It was fortunate for her that her generous
heart rompted such a manifestation of grati-
tude, or while they were in full course her
horse stepped into a gopher—hole, and was
thrown upon his head so that he turned a com-
plete somerset. .

1t happened that Old Buncomb was lookin
at her when the accident occurred, and wit
the quickness of thought, for which men.whose
whole life consists in meeting emergenmes im-
possible to forecast become noted, he threw out
his arm and snatched her from her saddle to his
horse’s withers.

As the little mare went crashing. to the earth
Madeline uttered a scream of frig t, and reined
in her own horse, shuddering at the thought of
seeing her companion crushed beneath the fall-
ing weight of horse-flesh. But instead of a

o

 

bloody and dirt-disfigured corpse, a flutter of
skirts, as Old Buncomb swept by her, showed,
her pretty Ruth, somewhat tumb ed, but other-
wise her rosy self, in his arms.

“ Keep on!” he shouted. “ We are all right.”

Dazed by the sudden alternation between
peril and safety, and by the yell of delight that
went up from a hundred savage throats, Made-
line spurred her horse up to the air.

Old Buncomb was almost cho ed by the con-
vulsive bug with which terrified Ruth clung
about his neck: but he seemed very well
pleased with that part of the programme.

Albeit not a man to trifle in the face of their
great peril, yet he sought to impart confidence»
to the girls who were so dependent on his cool-
ness, by making light of the matter.

So he said teasingly to Ruth, who was sob-

bing and shuddering with horror at her narrow
esca :
“ in wonder if you would take it so much to
heart, if it were Little Tornado with his arm
about you, instead of arongh old cod er like me?‘
Heigho! that’s the disadvantage 0 not being
young and handsome! But I am lad that he
is not where he can see me. I s all have to
bribe his sister not to tell him. It is not so.
much that I object to being shot: but it would
be a thousand pities to Spoil his lovely oom-
plexion, by having him turn green with jealousy
and livid with env .”

“Oh, you horri thing!” cried little Ruth,
who from being as wan as an lily with fear,
now rivaled the very peonies With her blushes.

“ Waall waal! here’s gratitude for you,"
cried Old Buncomb, With mock indignation.
“I’ve risked being shot by that hot-headed
young pirate, just that you might escape get-
ting our dress dirt : and you tell me to my
face t at I am a horrid thing! If I ever——”

“But you are! I say it again!” ponted Ruth.
“ EVen saving my life—I don’t deny that I owe!
everything to you—but- does it give you the
right to laugh at me? I have a mind to jump
down—”

“And walk home. Ha! ha! ha!”

Then he turned to Madeline and said, looking
steadily at her, to show that there was more in
his words than a ared on the surface:

“ Ride ahead, iss Madeline. and et the glen
out to see the champion lad wa kist. Tell
them that we guarantee to s ow some of the
tallest getting over the ground on record.
You’ll have to be slpryg-but that horse can
stand it—or we sha . so close behind you
that the performance Will be over before the
audience gets seated.”

Madeline shot a lightning glance of inquiry
into his eyes. Was there real danger to him
and Ruth? Did he fear that his horse with its.
double load, might be overtaken? Was she-
being sent forward to summon help?

He saw by the sudden blanching of her face,
by the spasmodic quiver that ran throu h her
form, by the quick parting of the lips, y the
speaking eyes, that she comprehended him.

It was lucky that, as she eat before Old Bun-
comb, Ruth’s back was toward Madeline, so.
that she did not see these suspicious symp-
toms.

After a mighty effort to stifle the scream that
struggled for utterance in her throat, Madeline
gained control of her voice sumciently not to
startle Ruth as she said:

“ Seriously, they ought to be Warned  have
the stockade in readiness. This horse is not
doing half what he is equal to. Why shouldn’t
I as well as m brother do something to increase
the chances ofv those poor peo 1e? might get
enough men together to ho! the savages in
check in the pass, while these who are furthest
from the stockade would have so much more
time to reach it.”

While speaking she urged her horse ahead, so
that when Rnth'quickly turned her head she
might not see the white face that belied these
brave words. ,

“Oh! are you going to leave us?’ she cried,
her eyes flying Wide With dismay, before she
iad time to think of anything but'the terror of
being last in that fearful race for life. _

But instantly her generous heart sacrificed
self to the needs of others; and she cried, re-
morsefully:

“Oh yeS! do go! Don’t lose a moment! You
can’t do us any good by delaying; and on
ma bethe m as of sayin the little chi! ran
an their mo are, who wil  so frightened
that they will hardly know which way to run.
God speed you, you dear, bravs Maddie!”

Madeline did not look round. She dared not!
She feltas if her heart would burst. It mi ht
be the last time she would ever hear the v0 so
of her loved friend. It might be the last.

 

 

    

f

she would ever see of either her or Old Bun-
oomb— Ah! Old Buncomh! that made her sick
and dizz with a swooning of the heart which
was di erent from her grief for her friend,
degp and sincere though it was.

ith set teeth and gaze fixed upon that open-
ing in the bills where life seemed to beckon her
forward, while deatl; pursued hard upon her
heels, freezing her Wth the shadow it cast be-
fore, she goad»d her horse until every muscle
was strained to the utmost and every tendon
was tense as the string of a steel bow, and
so besought Heaven in dry-eyed agony to
stretch forth a succoring hand, and pluck her
lCfiVc‘d ones from the cruel death that menaced
1: HM

Behind her. Ruth clung more closely about
Old Buncomb’s neck, now that she realized that
he was her Sole dependence; and gazing over
his sliOiilder at the red devils who divided their
time between lashing their horses and brand-
ishing their weapons, gazing at them with
wildly-dilated eyes, and blood-curdling shud-
ders that seemed to begin at her extremities
and end in a spasm in her heart, she asked, in
.a quavering whisper close to his ear, as if fear-
ful that she might be overheard even at that
distance:

“Are they as far behind as at the start? Oh,
look!”

Old Buncomh glanced over his shoulder, and
replied, with a cheerful ring of assuranCe in his
vowe:

“ Don’t be afraid, little one! We are holding
-our own; and that is all we want. Let them
come on! They’ll get more cracked crowns
than half-pence at the Glen Eden mint! That’s
the kind of coin we turn out there for the
Government pets!"

At every bound Madeline gained upon both
friends and foes, until when she had reached
within four or time miles of the glen, her heart
'was brought into her mouth by the sight of
some one riding out from among the hills to-
award her.

Tearing loose a red scarf which she wore
:about her waist as an ornament, she waved
it above her head and cried out at the tOp of
her lungs, though she knew that the distance
was far too great to be leaped by her woman’s
vows.

instead of going back to summon aid, as she
Wished, and thus saving the time it would take
m.traverse that stretch of prairie, the rider
veVIdently took it as a signal of distress calling
‘upon him personally to come to the relief of the
.doubly burdened and lagging horse; for be dug
spurs into his horse’s flanks, and dashed forward
,at a pace that showed that the animal he be-
:strode was a good one and fresh

Madeline could have cried with vexation.

“Go backlago back!” she shouted again and
'again, trying to convey her wish by dropping
her scarf and wavnig him away with the palm
of her hand toward him.

But the distance was so great that he mistook
ithis repellent gesture for beckoning him to
hasten; and so redoubled his efforts.

“Oh! for mercy’s sake, go back!" cried Ma-
»deline, when he had come within sound of her
agonized voice. “Get all the men you can to
come through the pass and check the savages.
Go! go! Your horss is fresher than mine.”

The man wheeled his horse and rode beside
her, crying excitedly:

“Won’t it be better to go and lighten Old
Buncomh of his load? We kin make a flyin'
change, an’ lose no time.”

Had this been another like Old Buncomb, or
'her brother, she would not have hesitated to let
him carry out his plan; but, albeit a good-heart-
ed rustic, he was unfortunately clumsy, as some
otherwise excellent pe0ole are; and she shud-
tdered at the thought of intrusting her friend’s
life to his skill in so ticklish a maneuver as
'changing a woman from one horse’s bacx to an-
other at full speed.

Hawever the decision that she was called
*upon to make was so momentous that she hesi-
tultpd to take the whole responsibility on her-
-ae .

.“Look back,” she said. “ Is Mr. Bunker
signaling you?”

She was confident that if Old Buncomh want-
ed personal help, he would find some way of
making his wish known.

“ N0,” answered the young farmer, when he
had looked over his shoulder.

“ Then do not lose another moment! Push
ahead as fast as_you can. and get the men out—
118" 8 dozen WI" be better than delayin too
long for more—to meet us in the pass. fter
ggu have got ahead of me, sothat it will be seen

17 I here directed you, you can look round;

 

 

Little Tornado.

and if Mr. Bunker wants you to act differently,
he will call you back.”

“ You’ve got a. head on your shoulders, Miss
Fortescuel” exclaimed the rustic, in a burst of
admiration; and then, without waiting to see
how his compliment was received, he plunged
the rowels into the quick flesh and dashed for-
ward on his mission.

She was rejoiced to see how much fresher his

horse was than her own, and reflected that of 1 stockade, men!
‘i to—night.”

course the Indians labored under the same dis-
advantage.

He made the pass nearly a mile in advance of
her, and when she came up she could hear—
though the interVening trees cut off her view—
the sounds of excitement in the glen, which
showed that he had faithfully executed his
trus .

Then came to her the prompting of kindly
charity.

“ I can add nothing to what he has already
done,” she said to herself. “But I shall have
time to warn Wild Zeph and her mother. In
the general excitement the will probably be
forgotten, living as they 0 outside of the
glen.”

As she entered the pass she looked back.
About midway betWeen her and the Indians,
Old Buncomb, though his horse was laboring
painfully, seemed to be holding his own with
the foremost of his pursuers. That they kept on
at full speed was no evidence that they yet
hoped to overtake him: for it would still be
their aim to reach the glen while it was in the
confusion of a surprise.

“Yes, I shall have ample time,” reflected
Madeline; and she waved her scarf encourag-
ingly to her friends as she disappeared from
their view among the trees.

A moment later a handful of mounted men
swept by her. They did not stop for any inter-
change of words, but cheered her as they
passed.

Had any of them looked back,they might have
seen her wheel sharply into a bridle-path, to be
swa110wed Up by the dense foliage. But for
want of this knowledge, they naturally supposed
that she had kept on to the Stockade, where she
would be in safety.

Before the reached the mouth of the pass
the beard t ereport of a rifle—then another,
an another, and another—following at rhyth-
mic intervals.

“ That’s a repeating rifle,” exclaimed one of
the men.

At that instant they burst through the month
of the pass, in full view of the open prairie, with
its background of soaring peaks. on the apex of
one of Which the sun rested likeastar in the
diadem of a goddess. It was a majestic stage,
fit for the enactment of one of those awful
tragedies with which man’s devilish ferocity
has filled the earth from the beginning.

Although the sun was in their eyes, the chase
was now near enough so that all the participants
could be clear! made out.

Reeking wit Sweat and flecked with foam
that flew from his muzzle at every sping
breath, Old Buncomb’s noble steed still re on
ata heavy allo .

Behind him came the Apaches. the line spread
out transversely, with which they had begun
the chase. now drawn together, so that, seen in
perspective, they looked like a compact body,
though in fact they were considerably strung
out over the plain.

They were led by one who, riding with his
bridle rein hanging on the neck of his horse,
brought a rifle to his shoulder at every few
leaps, and the cloud of white smoke that for an
instant hid his face, to be pieiced at the next
bound, was (0110wed by the sharp report which
told that another leaden messenger of death had
winged its flight.

.At sight of his friends, Old Buncom-b held up
his hand signaling them to stop.

They drew rein in instant obedience. On the
border, men learn to depend upon one another’s
Judgment.

f'That devil’s tryin’ his luck at long range.”
said one of the men. “ Let Old Buncomh alone
to know whether the bullets is singiii’ too class
about his ears. Y n bet he ain‘t takin’ no resks
With the commandant‘s daughter; an’ of he
sayshold off, it’s becuz that ain’t no call fur our
puttin‘ in."

“ Gents, d’ye. notice anythin’ curi’s about the
cuss that’s doiu’ all this hyar shootin’?”

“ No. What's the matter with him?”

“ He ain‘t no Injun. ye onderstand.”

At this annoancement in a confident tone, the
men shaded their eyes and peered more narrow-
ly at the foremost pursuer.

Then followed ejaculations of surprise and

 

 

 
   

6

deep resentment. The renegade to his race is
loathed where a natural enemy is only hated.

But Old Buncomh was now so near at hand
that his friends set up a cheer, in the midst of
which he dashed through the opening in their
ranks which they made for his reception, and
they closed in about him.

“ It is Colorado Steve.” he said. “ And lsup-
pose that Mexican devil is with him. To the
We’re going to have hot work

The men cheered Ruth, and she smiled—a
plaintive little smile—and thanked them.

But at this moment a horseman, wild-eyed
and haggard with distress, came down the pass,
goading his horse to a breakneck pace, at sight
of whom Ruth cried, hysterically:

“Papa! papa! oh. my darling papa!”

It was indeed the commandant. He wheeled
to the side of Olll Buncomh. and caught the
hand that his child held out to him.

“Thank God! thank God!’ he cried. in a.
choking voice. “I have my child still, safe
and Well!

How can I ever repay you for what
you have done for me to-day? ’

And having kissed again and again the little
hand he held in spite of the uneVen motion of
the horses a< they gallo d on, and left a tear
on it. he put his hand wit grateful affection on
Old Buncomb‘s shoulder.

But Ruth was too overflowing with talk to
allow Old Buncomh a chance to reply, if he felt
disposed.

“ And did Maddie tell you how be saved me
from being killed outright by a terrible fall,
when poor Maid broke her eg? I think she
must have done so, for she skis unable to get
u I"

“ Madeline?” repeated Mr. Thurston. “ I have
not seen her. I was away from home when the
terrible news of your peril was brought me. I
feared that I should never see my darliug’s
smile again!”

“ Poor, dear papa!
been so well cared
daughter?”

And she blushed with (pleasure to see how
much interest had centerc in her safety.

But her measure was not yet full, or rather
it was to still more lavishly brim over; for
while she spoke another rider was seen to ap-
proach, in as agonized suspense as her father
had displayed. ‘

This time it was Little Tornado: and he too
would have one of her hands; and in Lis heart
wanted to relieve Old Buncomh of her alto-
gether, but that it would have been a rather un-
grucious thing to rob the hero of the hour of the
honor of hearing her into the Stockade as he had
borne her so long and so well in the teeth of the
enemy.

Even as it was, so impetuously and so openly
did he urge his claim upon her, that, crimson
with confusion. she was fain to snatch her hand
away; while the men by whom she was sur-
rounded grinned with enjoyment of the scene.
But her father smiled very kindly upon the
young scamp, for all that!

So, in a body, they dasbed u to the stockade,
into which the men of Glen den were hurry-
ing their women and children like a lot of flut-
tering geese. ‘

“ But where‘s Maddie?" was Ruth’s demand,
the moment she was set upon her feet.

As she ran through the gate into the inclosure,
she looked about for her friend, surprised that
she was not at hand to meet her.

There was another who entered as eagerly ex-
pectant. If it is necessary to say that it_was
Old Buncomb, then we have told our story so far
to little purpose. His only anxiety was tolearn
how bravely the girl bore up against the terri-
ble strain that had been laid upon her.

But when Ruth repeated her questlon, and
Madeline still failed to appear and answer for
herself, a sense of fear smote home to his heart.
Still his only thcught was that she mi ht have
been prostrated in the reaction after t at long
suspense. But when it appeared that no one
had seen her after the squad of men who met
her in the pass, then he was stricken with dis-
may, and ran to the gate of the stockade,

There he was met by a vision that froze the
blood in his Veins!

CHAPTER IV.
WILD ZEPH.

THE bridleopath d0wn which Madeline urged
her horse led to the shores of a lakelet emba ed
by the hills, yet fronting on the prairie. nto
it flowed the water-courses that irrigated the
glen, and out of it meandered a streamlet across

But have all our people
for as your foolish little

. the plainto its confluence with the Canath

river.

 

 

.

., Sr.
n’,

. m
l a

 

,  m r  " :’ “ ‘

Little Tornado.

 

 

On its beach la a flat-bottomed scow of I rude
construction, an a little way from the water’s
‘ed e stood a but among the trees, against the
was] of which leaned a one-tined spear, with a
deerskin thong tied to its handle—such an
instrument as is commonly used by Indians;
lwhile near at hand hung a net and some fishing-

mes.

Up to the door of this but rode Madeline, and
rapped upon it with the butt of her whip, cry-
m .

g.

“ Zeph! Zeph! Open the door instantly!
You are in peril of your life!"

N 0 sound replied to her urgent summons.

“Dear! dear! she must be away from home!"
exclaimed Madeline. “ But I cannot manage
her mother alone, if she is in one of her obstinate
moods—which she is sure to be! What shall 1
do?‘

A moment she hesitated, listening for sounds
of the chase which she knew was approaching
on the wings of the wind. Then her generous
impulses triumphed over her fears, and leaping
from her horse, she thrust open the door and
entered.

The hut was without fireplace or window, and
contained not so much furniture as a stool. The
earthen floor was covered with mats of braided
rushes, save in the center, where three stones
had their use indicated by the ashes lodged in
their midst, as well as by a pot, smoky without
and greasy within, which stood beside them. In
one corner was a thicker layer of rushes covered
with coyote skins. On this rude bed lay an
Indian woman, on her back, with her black eyes
wide open, and fixed immovably on the ceiling.

She was so ggard and wrinkled that she
looked like a s eleton covered with time-worn
leather.

She was covered with an old, tattered and
dirty army blanket; but her skinny arms lay
outside parallel beside her body.

Springing to the side of this old hag, yet in-
stinctively, gathering her skirts so that they
should not touch the floor as she stooped, Ma-
deline seized her by the shoulder and shook her,

cr 1 .

. x iwanga, get up and come to the stockadeu
A crowd of Apaches—you know that they are at
war with your people—are coming to attack the
glen. There is not a moment to lose. Even
now we may be too late. Where is Zeph? Oh!
will you not listen to me?”

But she mi ht as well have appealed to one of
the stone e gies carved on an old-time tomb.
The bag lay as unresponsive as if she were a
paralytic.

Knowing that this was sheer sullenness, ex-
traordinary instances of which are not uncom-
mon among all uncivilized races, Madeline was
loth to leave her to the consequences of her
perversity. But she must not Iorget that her
own safety hung upon the chance of a moment.

After several fruitless efforts to win her at-
tention, the girl became conscious that the
doorway was darkened by some one whose ap-
proach she had not heard.

Whirling round with almost a shriek of ter-
ror, she .stood face to face with the beautiful
half-breed whom the reader will remember as
having watched the departure of the Outcasts
of the Glen with manifestations of profound
melancholy.

A word will tell who and what she was.

After the settlers had sown their grain, and
while they Were building their houses, she one
day made her appearance among them, offer-
ing fish in exchange for anything they would
give her. Her beauty at once ma e her enthu-
siastic friends, and when it was found that she
had pitched a tepee on the border of the lake, it
was resolved to adopt her into the community
if she could be induced to become aflxture
The men built her a but, consisting of but four
walls and a roof, yet a better protection against
the weather than her tepee, with the promise
that they would improve it as soon as they had
more time: while the women gave her civilized
clothes—which her old ha mother could not be
induced to share—and too turns trying to en-
]! hten her heathen ignorance of the Shorter

atechism and the Four GOSPOIS.

She now stood bolt upright in the dOorway,
looking steadily and in silence at the maiden
who had risked her life to warn her and her
mother.

“Oh, Zeph!” cried Madeline, springing to-
ward her with a look of relief.

But the imperious half— breed lifted her
hand with so repellent a frown that Made—
line shrunk back with astonishment and appre-
hens n.

“ h , what is the matter!” she cried, lift-
tag her to her breast, where her heart was

 

palpitating so wildly that it nearly suffocated
er

“ Why are you here?” demanded Wild Zeph,
still barring the door with her person.

“ I came to warn you and your mother of the
terrible danger that is rushing down upon us
all. A perfect swarm of Apaches are chasing
Mr. Bunker and Ruth Thurston across the prai-
rie to attack the glen. l have been trying to
persuade your mother to get up and go with
me to the stockade. Oh, Zeph! do not stand
there wasting time! They will be here in a
moment!”

“ We will not go to the stockade,” said Wild
Zeph, firmly.

"Then you must let me go without you,” said
Madeline, despairing at this new opposition.
“ Hark! Do you not hear their yells? Oh, we
shall all be lost?”

And she sprung toward the door, never
dreaming that her passage would be contested.

But it was. “'ild Zeph hnd repelled her ini-

ulsive approach with her uplifted left hand.
Yow her ri, ht aipenred from behind her. It
now up until it flanked her head, holding a glit—
tering knife, the point of which menaced the
girl who sought to pass her.

“ You will not go to the stockade!” she said,
as firmly as before.

f‘ Merciful Heaven! what do you mean?”
cried Madeline, shrinking back in white-lipped
terror.

“ That we will not go to the stockade,”.said
the half-breed, as impassively as if she were a
parrot or a talking machine.

“ Oh! but you cannot detain me .’ You have
no right to detain me! You dare not detain
me!" punted Madeline, with agonized itera—
tion.

“ Your people have the right of the weakest,
said the half breed, with a sneering smile.
“ ! people ”——and her eyes blazed and her
hea was lifted proudly—“ have the right of
the strongest!”

There was no misunderstanding such a pre-
sentation of the case as this.

Madeline stared at her breathless! y, afraid to
take up the challenge that glittered in her eyes
and spoke in the hand that clutched the mur-
derous knife.

It was the thought of blood that unnerved
her—this girl who dared risk death to save a
couple of strangers of an alien race.

“Listen a moment,” she urged, trying to hold
in restraint the wild terror that shook her, and
speak in the soothing tones of conciliation.
“You cannot have understood me. We are all
in danger from the Apaches, you as well as I,
and I have come to save you and your mother.”

“ Let them come,” said Wild Zeph, unmoved.

“But I? You cannot wish to include me in
your destruction! What have I ever done to
you, Zeph? Have I not even now risked every-
thing to do you a kindness? And your mother
-—it was to save her that I came. h! you can-
not he so ungrateful as to wish me to suffer for
my very goodness to you! And such cruelties l—
worse than the moz=t terrible death! Oh, Zeph!
Ze h! where is your heart—your humanityl’

nd losing all command over her emotion, in
view of the horrible pictures of suffering her
fancy painted—pictures too faithfully realized
in the ruthless warfare which marks the death-
grapple of the two races, the weaker of which
is being slowly yet surely strangled, though in
its death throes it rends its adversary cruelly—
Madeline extended her hands in piteous suppli-
cation.

All this while, the hag, though perfectly
aware of what was going on, never so much as
moved an eyelid.

“ Stand back!” commanded the half-breei,
clutching her knife more firmly, and once more
raising it above her head, while her eyes glit-
tered with a hate that seemed as if it must
scorch like lightning wherever her glance fell.

“ Zeph l—dem Z~ph !”

So does fear make sycophants of us all!

“ Stand back, I say!”

So does hate repudiate every claim of grati-
tude or humanity!

“ Oh l—my horse! my horse!”

For at this moment. as Old Buncomb sur-
rounded by the settlers came dashing up the
pass, the animal that had been tOssing its head,
rolling its eyes, picking its ears forward, and
Stuffing the air, yielded to the excitement under
which it had chafed, wheeled, and sped down
the bridle-path to join its kind.

“ I am lostl—I am lost!” cried Madeline,
wildly. “Out of my path! You shall not
sto me!”

nd reckless of the immediate danger she
sprung forward, to force a passage to freedom.

 

Instead of executing the menace of her knifgi

Wild Zeph dropped the weapon, and grappl
with her prisoner.

Her strong right arm she threw about Made—
line’s waist. The left she thrust under her arm,
and clutching her hair from behind, drew her
head back until her pure white throat was
strained so as to make a straight line from the
end of her chin to her breast, while her eyes
glared with strangulation. . .

A terrible struggle ensued; ior Madeline, be-
sides being strong, was goaded to frenzy by
fear. But it was the struggle of the bare with
the fangs of the bound in its throat.

Wild Zeph fought with set teeth and hard,
relentless eyeS—With the silent ferocity of a
bull-dog, which never loosens its grip while
there is a quiver in its victim!

Thrust‘mg her chin against the smooth, round
throat that the had laid open to this painful at—
tack, she tightened her arm about the slender
waist, and forced Madeline backward until
she tripped over the stones which we have de~
scribed as forming a fireplace in the middle of
the floor. So they fell to the round together,
the half-breed uppermost, and so close beside
the Shakedown upon which the old hag lay that
one of Madeline’s flying arms struck her.

She never moved!

CHAPTER V.
AT THE GATE or THE STOCKADE.

IT was not that the Apaches at that moment
made their appearance, pouring through the
pass, hideous in the barbaric paraphernalia of
their warfare: but it was that before them
careered a horse with an empty saddle l—Mude-
line’s horse!

“My God!” cried Old BUr-comb, with the
agony of a strong man. “Men! men! I tell
you that the girl never reached the Stockade!”

Then wheeling around upon his Companions,
he stretched forth his hands in piteous appeal,
crying:

“Forward with me to the rescue! If there
is a spark of manhood here, let .10 one stay
behind!”

And turning about, he was on the point of
leaping through the gate, let who would follow
when he was seized by friendsm-ho were coo
enough to see that such an act would be suicidal,
while others shut the heavy barrier and drop-
ped the ponderous oaken bar into its iron
slots.

He neither heard nor heeded the Babel of
cries with which he was appealed to on all
sides. He shook them off and whirled upon
them with so ghastly a face, such blazing eyes,
that they quailed before the lava tide of his
emotion; while through his voxce quavered
such cadences of anguish as told how mighty
was the love of this man, usually so cool and
unconCerned, for the girl in whose behalf he-
now ap aled to them.

“Go in heaven!” he cried, with terrific-
energy, “ are we to leave her to her fate?”

“Bunkt r! Bunker! this is madness!” shouted
Mr. Thurston. putting his hand on the shoulder
of the frenzied man. “ Do you suppose that we
are not distressed, with you? But there are
women and children here who must not be
abandoned for s0 hopeless—”

“ Old man! dare you stand to argue the case
with me? Did I not bring you your daughter?
\Vbat more do you require? Nothing!—noth-
ing!" witha withering sneer. And then: “Stand
out of my way!”

And with a sweep of his powerful arm, he
hurled him away.

While this was going forward, a woman with
streaming hair and pain—drn wn face came rush-
ing forward, stretching forth her hands, and
c

 

r in :

‘uys Madame; My daughter, Madeline! Where‘s
Madeline: In God’s name, has no one seen her!
0h: 1am a poor heart—broken mother! What
shall I def—what shall I do?”

Thus wailing and moaning and wringing her
hands. she espied Little Tornado. and rushing
up to him, seized hold of him with both shaking
hands.

“Sidney! Sidney! where is your sister? 0h!
do not tell me that you have not found her!”

Thus far Little Tornado had stood dum-
founded. He had been told that it was Mad-
eline who had.brought the intelligence of the
perilous situation in which she had left Ruth
and Old Buncomb. He had taken it for grant-
ed that she had found refuge in the stockade.
Only stopping to see his mother on her way to
the same. haven of security, he had sped down
the ass to meet Ruth and her savior.

“ he must be here—somewhere about!" he
cried, helplessly. “ Where else could she- be}:

‘A‘__.A._ _-_.__-_

Ila-tn ‘A ‘M‘Lnnw

A—m

~A

 

Liti le Tornado.

 

 

 

You have not looked. Why have you not call-
ed to her? Madeline! Madeline!”

And lifting his voice, through which ran a
quiver of terror, he shouted her name in tones
that must have been heard in any part of the
stockade, even above all the hubbub that made
it a very Babel.

Further than this, he was about to rush
through the place in search of her, when a
trampling of many hoofs drowned in a myriad-
throated yell announced that the foe had ar-
rived at the very gateway without.

Hearing this, the mother threw up her hands
with a prolonged, quivering “ 0 o-h ! ” as if an
arrow had pierced to her heart.

This drama between mother and son took
place concurrently with the commandaut’s vain
effort to recall Old Buncomh to reason.

Seeing her, the scout Seized one of her wrists,
to arrest her attention, and cried:

“ I will fetch your daughter back to you !”

The distracted mother caught his hand with
both her own, and pressing it against her ach-
ing b050m, murmured:

“God bless you, Mr. Bunker! He will help
you to save her!—l kii0w He will! , Oh, He
cannot afflict me so sorely! O-o-h! O-o-h!
O o-h!”

And her distress ended in long-drawn wails of
uns eakable anguish.

. addened by this grief in concert with which
his own heart bled, Old Buncomb sprung to the
gate, snatched the bar from its fastenings,
pushed open the barricade—which of course
swung outward—and leaped through, into the
yery teeth of the savages who swarmed before

it.

All this was done so suddenly that the be-
Sieged stood breathless with every barrier swept
from between their cowering wives and chil~
dren and the bloodthirsty foe.

But fear is a mightier weapon than force;
and so terrific was Old Buncomb’s onslaught,
firing rapidly with a revolver in either hand,
that the sava es reined their horses round as on
pivots; and or a moment there wasa general
Egalinpeding, with flying heels and whisking

i 8.

However, there was a man at their head who
never seemed to get excited. Colorado Steve
sawthat Old Buncomb was not the leader of a
sortie,_as the savages expected from this bold
throwmg open of the gate; and jumping at the
chance to capture him before any one came to
his support, he wheeled his horse so as to get
between him and the gate.

In this maneuver he was quickly followed by
Senor Ramirez and several of the Indians who
had their wits under better control; and it
looked as if Old Buncomb, who, heedless of the
trap, seemed determined to cut his way through
the confused crowd, was doomed to ca ture.

But love for his friend spurred Little ornado
to activity.

“Charge!” he shouted. “So good a man
must not be lost so foolishly!”

And he too leaped through the yawning gate-

wa .

.Izaolhardiness, like true heroism, is conta-
gious. With a yell the whole force of the glen
rushed after the boy, with only a vague idea
glint they were to rout the savages at a single

ow.

But Little Tornado was not so infatuated as
9:0 expect such a miracle. He had a far more
practicable object in view—to rescue his friend
and get back before the enemy couldregain
control of their horses, which were riding one
another down in wild confusion.

Colorado Steve lea from his horse, and
springing upon Old uncomb from the rear,
dealt him a stunning blow on the head With
the butt of his revolver. He then stooped and
Picked him up from the ground where he had
fallen unconscious, evidently with the purpose
of rushing amon the savages with him beyond
the reach of his riends.

.But he should have looked to his own defense.

thtle Tornado was upon him with a rush that
Justified his name.
6 He, however, in turn, had his enemy—no less
aperson than Senor Ramirez, who tried to ride
him down. But with lightning dexterity he
dodged the horse, and seizing the Spaniard by
t139150015, pitched him out of his saddle in fine
style, givmg him an ugly fall, that came with-
in an ace of breaking his precious neck!

He then made a second rush at Colorado
Steve, who was b this time upright and ready
to dash with his urden into the thick of the
crowd _of his allies.

In his bout with Ramirez Little Tornado had

 

dropped his revolver, so that be new had nothing
but ill! naked hands to depend upon.

 

There was no time to make nice points. What
was to be done must be done on the instant and
be effective. So Little Tornado dove with his
head between the giant’s legs, overturning him
as if he had been struck by a battering—ram.

The fall broke his hold on Old Buncomb, and
making everything else Second to the rescue of
his friend, our hero caught him by the shoul-
ders, and by a skillful tug and wriggle, man-
aged to get him on his back.

To run with him in this fashion to the gate,
while his masterly retreat was covered by his
friends, was a task much more easy to admire
than to execute. But it was effected; and al-
most iii a twinkling the besieged Were again in
security, with the gate shut between them and
their foes.

In this neatly-managed sortie no lives were
10st on either side, though some ugly wounds
were borne away , as mementoes of as brisk a lit-
tle scrimmage as border warfare can boast. Had
the Indians been on foot, instead of mounted
on horses rendered unmanageable by panic, the
issue might not have been so happy.

During that breathless moment while all of
their lives hung in the balance, Ruth had clung
to Mrs. Foi'tescue, while following her son with
agonized vision.

“See! see!” she cried, dragging the mother
forward, while with one extended arm and
forefinger she pointed out Little Tornado, as,
bent under the hurd'n of Old Buncomb’s body,
he dashed toward the gate. “ Oh! is he not

brave and stmng? Is he not a hero? Sidney!
Sidney! oh, how (11 lighted I am!”
She was foremost in his thoughts. He had a

purpose in view; but her glad cry told him that
it was already accomplished. Still he, kept on
until he could drop his burden at her feet.
Then in her love and admiration, and the relief
of having him back safe and sound, forgetful
of the eyes that might be upon her, she caught
hold of him and hid her tearful face in his
breast.

“Tiere!” exclaimed our hero, in a tone of
deep satisfaction. “ “Then he comes round, he
will at least know that his boy takes men’s
sizes in boots and bowie-knives. “’hen he lost
his head, it was his boy that had to save him
from the Consequences of his madness. And,
little girl,” he added, bending so as to bring his
lips close to her ear, “ I had you in mind. I‘ve
paid him off dollar for dollar for saving you; so
we don’t owe him anything on that score."

“Oh! don’t speak to me like. that, when no
one knows what poor Maddie may be suffering.
It seems wicked,” whispered sensitive little
Ruth, shrinking from her lover, because of the
thrill of happiness which the love that vibrated
in his vmce sent through her, in spite of all of
the pain .and fear of the moment. “ And re.
member, it was for her that be rushed into such
awful peril.”

Little Tornado flushed scarlet.

“And do on think,” he cried, with a quiver
of hurt sens1bilities in his voice, “ that l am less
concerned than he at my sister‘s loss—"

“ Oh, no! no!” Ruth hastened to " :‘pCse.

“—-Because," he kept on, “I k \\ hen a
thing is impracticable? Is it more  \'. orthy
to rush to certain suicide, from which no pos-
sible good can come, than to wait for an open-
ing in which something may be accomplished?
Show me the chance to give my life for my
Sister’s, if you doubt the Strength of my love for
her; but don’t ask me to throw it away when I
may vet—”

‘ Oh, hush! bush 3” sobbed little Ruth. “ Can’t

you see that I think you have both done
noblv?”
_ “ What _a brute I am!” cried Little Tornado,
m deep disgust. “My confounded temper is
always making me ride over you rough—shod,
signyou were a two-fi<tcd plug—ugly like my-
se

“ I know you never mean to hurt me,” said
the generous little Ruth; and their peace was
made.

Meanwhile a rattling fire through the loop-

holes of the stockade had driVen the assailants
from the immediate vicinity to cover. Then
there was a cessation of hostilities while the
shades ofevening gathered. They w< re evi-
dently waiting for the darkness to begin their
attack.
. But that they were not spending the time in
idleness was soon made apparent. As the night
fell, flames shot up in every direction, and look-
ing on With set teeth, flashing eyes and hearts
swelling with impotent rage, the settlers saw
their homes and their cro s—the first yield of
the glen, and just ready or the sickle—given
over to the fire—fiend.

But Madeline!

 

CHAPTER VI.
INDIAN JEALOUSY.

W ILD ZEPH immediately got up.

Madeline lay half-stunned by her fall, and
strangling with the excruciating pain in her
throat; but the moment she felt herself released
she struggled to her feet, her spirit not yet
broken.

“'ild Zeph stood in her path as before, with a
look of alert defiance in her face, out of which
the malignancy of hatred had passed, without
being replaced by a smile. She hailed this con~
test as a rare diversion.

Madeline might have made one more desperate
effort: but at that moment the Apaches swarm-
ed through the pass, loading the air with their
yells and the rattle of firearms.

The girl stood rizrid, s aring into vacancy, with
her whole horrified soul centered in the one sense
of hearing.

So passed a breathless moment. Then came
the shock of the collision at the gate of the
stocli'aile.

She read the significance of this. Her friends
were so hard beset that there was no hope of
succor from them. EVen if in the mad confu-
sion of the moment they had yet missed her, who
would dream of searching for her here? She
remembered that the settlers had passed her be-
fore sbe entered the bridle-path. They would
testify that she had gone on ten-ard the stock—
ade. It would be believed that she had gone to
her home in her anxiety for the safety of her
mother, and had so delayed until it was too late
to et back to the stockade.

at was that rer only chance? There was the
prairie in the other direction; and the night was
close at hand! lf she could but escape this mad-
woman, she might make her way to a military
pOst, some twenty miles to the northward!

She need not even traverse the distance on
foot. There were horses picketed to rass on the
plains to the eastward of the hills '.l"t shut in
the glen. The Indians would have no knowledge
of these. and she might skirt the hills to the
north until she gained a point nearly opposite
to where she now was, secure a mount, and by
morning be safe at the post, besides sending
assistance to her friends.

Stimulated by this hope of being of service to
those she loved, her face brightened, and she
glanced about in search of some weapon with
which she might attack her detainer.

Standing coldly observant, Wild Zeph guessed
that her prisoner meditated a renewal of the
struggle. She followed the quick glances which
found nothing that would serve as a weapon
save the stones of the fireplace.

Advancing with the springy lightness of a.
Riznther, she put her foot on the one nearest

adeline, and smiled at her defiantly.

Convinced that she would be overmatched in
a purely physical encounter, Madeline once
more resorted to rsuasion.

“ Zeph,” she said, “there may yet be time for
me to escape. Why do you oppose me? What
have I ever done to you, that you should wish
to take so bitter a revenge upon me?"

“ Done!” repeated the Indian girl, while her
bosom swsller , her eyes bland, and her nostrils
dilated and quivered. “ “'hat have you not
done?”

“Why, I have never harmed (you or yours.
I have always shown you kin :iess instead.
Who has given you more or tried to teach you
more than 1?"

Th ~ half-breed laughed with bitter scorn.

“ Ay !” she cried. “You would teach me
out of your good book, as you call it, to love my
enemies. Well, I hate mine!——~hate them witha
hot, fiery anger compared with which the prai-
rie fire is a cool wind from the north !—hate
them as the cougar hates the dogs that have
come to hunt it to death!”

“ But I, Zephl—I am not your enemy !"

“You I” pursued the half-breed, not heeding
her interruption, but now shaking her fist at
her, as she gave the rein to her passions, “ you I
hate so bitterly, that your simple death would
not be to me so much as a drop of water on the
tongue of a man dying of thirst on the Staked
Plain! How does he famish for water? He
would drink it bythe bucketful—by the barrel.
ful! He would swim in it!—he would drown
himself in it, so that he might get his fill! So
do I ravin for my revenge on on, you accursed
of an accursed race !——you traitor of the trench-
erous whites! Death! I will that you die a
hundred deaths a day for a hundred moons,
and that that‘be but a beginning!"

Stunned by this torrent of iiivective poured
over her likea tide of burning lava, Madeline
could only Dlead:

 

   

 

\



\:,"
,
is? .
,» ,
5‘, 9.
 ‘
.il

.l

4., _- ~ ~ 11:,,:.‘,Wf~

8

“ But why?-—in Heaven’s name, why? What
have I ever done to you but kindneSs?”

“ Oh, you have been kind to me!” cried Zeph,
with a sneer so scathing that it seemed as if the
words must hiss as they left her lips. “You
have lulled me with sweet words, that you
might under cover of them steal my heart out
of my body and put a tarantula in its place!”

“ But explain yourself. You cannot put
your finger on a thing—"

“Why did you come to this country? \Vas
there not enough for you in the miles and miles
and miles of woodland and pastureland, of farm-
land and hunting-range, of mountain and prai-
rie, that stretches so far toward the rising sun
that the fleetest horse could not traverse it in

moons?”

man
. “ gut how has my coming injured you!”

“ Ask Colorado Steve!”

In three words she told her secret; and the
furious rush of passion so suddenly lapsed into
a wail of anguish, as tears sprung to her eyes
and her features writhed in pain, that Madeline
stared at her for a moment open-mouthed.

Then a wave of hope Swept over her with
such overwhelming force that her head swam
round with vertigo, and she half-sunk, half-fell
upon her knees.

“ Listen to me, Zeph !—listen !” she pleaded.

“ Oh, I am Weary of listening to on,” cried
the half-breed, impatiently, waving er off.

“ But you must hear me, for your own sake
as Well as for mine. I declare to you that I have
never sought to wron you in the way you
think. Colorado Steve is nothing to me. I have
never so much as spoken to him. Far from
wishing to win him from you, I—I—love some
one else!"

She knew the heart-logic of her own sex far

too well to prove her innocence by urging that
she dispised and feared the half-breed’s ruffianly
lover; but so eager was she to put the possibility
of her interference out of the question; that she
made a confession with which, until now, even
her own hearthad been playing at hide and
seek.
“ You do not love—you do love! Bah! What
is what you do, or do not do, to me?” cried Zeph,
with assionate scorn. “ Can you make Col-
rado teve love me again, as he did before he
saw you?”

“But you cannot blame me for what is no
my fault.” I

“That is more of your white reasoning—of a
piece with loving our enemies! Ha! ha! But
tell me, if you sp ll my drink in the sand, am I
less thirsty because it was done by acci-
dent?”

“Zeph! Zeph! it is wicked to bear malice in
this way!” cried poor Madeline, des airing of
correcting the perverted views of the alt-breed
before the catastrophe which menaced her had
fallen. “ Listen to me! I promise to go away
from this country, and never return where
Colorado Stevo can see me. I will—”

“ When it is too late! You should never
have come here! Now your only use is to serve
my revenge!”

“ I will not be sacrificed to your blind malig-
nity!” cried Madeline, enraged at the bitter
wrong of having her young life given to ap-
pease the savage instincts of this creature,
who seemed to her little better than a wild
beast.

And in that last madness of the strug is for
self-preservation which extinguishes al en-
tler sentiments and brings out the anima in
us every one, she sprung forward and made a
clutch at the knife which, yet lay where Zeph
had dropped it.

But the half-breed put her foot upon it and
once more grappled with her prisoner.

The struggle was now more stubbornly ro-
longed; but in the end the woman who ad
passed all of her life out of doors conquered the
woman who had passed hers within. Madeline
lay pantin and exhausted, with closed eyes
and relaxe muscles, while her adversary stood
over her, somewhat blown, but with no abate~
ment of her implacable resolve.

And through it all the bag nevor moved!

At this moment long-expected footsteps were
heard approaching. ,

Madeline, galvanized with terror, opened her
eyes with a piercing shriek, and seeking flight
while she scrambled to her feet, half ran, half
crept to the furthest corner of the hut.

‘ They are coming! they are coming!” she
cried, wringing her hands, and sobbing and
moanin , as she shrunk close to the wall. “ Oh,
we are ost! I shall neVer see my dear mother

Iain—never! never!”
And sinking upon her knees, she covered her
face with her hands, as if to shut out the horri-

 

— 3.

.--\c¥r— . \" A. .- -""‘".-‘I - , .v .
'_ erP-M‘égf mm n . ' ' I I

  

Little Tornado.

ble sight that must presently appear at the door—

wa .

Wild Zeph icked up the knife with which she
had menacecl) Madeline, and stepped a little
way back from the door. yet near enough to in-
tercept her risoner, did she try]Y to escape.
There she fol ed her arms, still wit. the weapon
held in readiness for instant use if required, and
waited, as coldly indifferent apparently to her
own share in the danger as the bag who still
preserved her strange abstraction unbroken.

Then the doorway was obstructed by the
figure of a man who stop d on the threshold,
and resting his hands on either jamb, thrust his
head into the room to eer round.

The sun having sun below the horizon, the
brief twilight of the prairie was rapidly deepen-
ing, so that objects in the but could be but in-
distinctly seen from the doorway, while any
one standing in the position taken by the new-
comer could be seen clearly enough in outline,
but the expression of his face would be ob-
scured.

“ Waal, I’ll
simulated the intruder. “Ef we hain’t got ’em
in hyar as snug as go hers!”

At the sound of t iat voice both of the girls
started, but with vastly different emotions.

“ Steve!” flashed through the brain of the
half-breed, seeming to set her on fire: and in-
stantlyevery muscle was braced for desperate
action.

Abandoning herself to adespair the depths
of which only such violent and moody natures
know, she had resolved to yield herself up to
the Apaches, for the sake of seeing the woman
she hated suffer the untold agonies of Indian
cagtivity.

he had every reason to believe that her
mother would be murdered out of hand, as only
a useless incumbrance; but such filial affection
as she may have had she sacrificed to her re-
venge.

For herself and Madeline she did not expect
death. Indeed, it would have frustrated her
gurpose to let her victim off so cheaply as that.

he wanted to see her live through the name-
less horrors a white woman has toendure in the
Wigwam of an Indian warrior. Only this, a
daily feast to her greedy hate, would requite
the loss of her lover. To witness it she was
willingeto share it, as far as her blunter nature
could made to feel that most degraded of
slaveries.

And now the appearance of Colorado Steve
was a surprise to her. She had not thought of
him as a leader of the savages. Even now she
did not associate him with them. For one ec-
static moment she dreamed that he had come
to rescue her; and, as a flash of lightning illumi-
! nates a landscape, she saw herself re-establish‘
] ed in his affections and taken into his but as his

sguaw—to d1udge for him like a soulless beast
o burden, to receive without complaint his
kicks and cuffs and curses, but to have him for
her own!

For this prospect she was ready to how her
neck for him 0 place his foot upon it. She
only waited for the word which should confirm
her hope that he had indeed come to save her.

Unfamiliar with Steve’s voice, having heard
it but two or three times before, Madeline only
realized that one of her own race was at hand.
It did not occur to her that he might has white
renegade. leading the bloodthirsty savages
against his own people.

” Ob, save me—save me!” she cried, springing
forward.

“ Save e, my pretty one? Oh, I’ll save ye!”
respondedy Colorado Steve, with a brutal laugh.
“Maybe ye wouldn’t believe it, but I hain’t
come fur nothin' else.”

To the passion-distraught creature, whose
soul was shaken between a delirious hope and
maddening jealousy. this was like the dropping
of a spark into a powder-magazine. All her
fancy’s paradise was annihilated as the land-
scape is blotted out in darkness when the fiery
bolt has sped!

With a snarling shriek of concentrated fury,
such as a maniac might utter when leaping to
rend an imagined foe. she sprung forward, and
seizing Madeline by her flying hairas she sought
to speed by her, she wrenched her back with
such violence that she was buried to the floor, to
lie half-stunned and wholly helpless.

Pinning her down by her hair. upon which
she planted her knee, she held the knife sus-
pended over her bosom.

“ One step across that threshold l" she cried to
Colorado Steve. “and she dies!"

The Indian hag lay still without motion.
though she knew perfectly well, so far at least
as her ears could tell her, the tragic scene that

 

 

 

 

be etnrnally hornswaggledi’”

 

{was being enacted within ten feet of where she
ay.
“ Santa Dias I it is the devil incarnate!
88110,!" Estevan, I wish you joy of them—those
two!

Senor Ramirez had made his appearance
behind Colorado Steve, and stood looking
under one of his arms, while at his back were
several Apaches, stony spectators of the scene.

Without changing his position, Colorado
Steve twisted his head so as to look over his
shoulder, and burst into a gruff:

“Haw! haw! haw! Ain’t they beauties—both
on ’em? Whar’s the gilt-edge galoot in this hyar
section 0’ country what kin sport sich a menag-
erie as that?” '

"As for me,” declared Senor Ramirez, “I
would as soon house with a rattlesnake anda
wildcat!”

“ Oh, you I” scoffed Colorado Steve, with
withering disdain. “ Keep to yer own kind.
Skunks an’ Greasers never have a. fallin’ out.”

“Maldita!” hissed the Spaniard, under his
breath, scowling at Colorado Steve’s back as he
would not have dared to scowl to his face.

Then-he went on aloud:

“ Your wildcat will spoil your rattlesnake, if
you do not soon interfere.”

“Oh, no!” said Colorado Steve, confidently.

“It would be a great pity that you should
lose one of them—you who are so fond of that
sort of animals; but for my part, to be frank, it
would not break'my heart. I owe the rattle-
snake no good will.”

“ Arter the way she scotched ye? You’re
cowardly hound enough to harbor a grudge
ag‘ir.’ a woman, nobody’ll question. But of it
Was me, I wouldn’t giVe it away.”

Once more Senor Ramirez had recourse to
the luxury of profanity which did Colorado
Steve no harm, and was something of a relief
to him.

“Hallo, thar. Tnjun! Old Lanternjaws!"

Thus in a brilliantly funny moment had the
usually slow-witted Steve styled the Apache
chief, on account of his spareness of flesh: and
the barbarian thought it a name of distinction!

“ Ugh l” he ejaculated.

“ What do you do with a squaw what cuts up
bigh-jinks in that thar kind of style?”

“ Stick!” was the terse recommendation of
the unsentimental Mr. Lo.

“Haw! haw! haw!" laughed Steve, staring
at Wild Zeph, and trying to imagine how she
would receive such discipline.

All this time she had stared at him, trying to
make out his intimate association thh the
Apaches. Now with a fierce sense of scorn for
his treachery, she realized the truth.

“ Come!” she cried. “Declare yourself!
What are you here for?”

“ Look a-hyar, Zeph,” he said, moved to sul-
len displeasure by the cavalier tone she had used
to him, “ drop that thar knife!”

“ Wh should I drop it?” she demanded, wish-
ing to raw him out.

‘Becuz I don‘t propose to hev my property
sp'iled by none 0’ your doggone nonsense!

“ Your property!”

“ Waal. what’s the matter with that?”

" How is she your property 1”

“ That’s none 0’ your internal business! Drop
it, I say!”

“ I will make it my business!”

“ Waal, dang my skin !” showed Steve, open-
mouthed at this defiance of his will.

‘ " Do you love her!" asked Wild Zeph, choking
as she forced herself to ask the question.

“She suits me, an’ that’s a gittin’ down to
bottom facts!" was Colorado Steve’s way of de-
claring his reference.

“Before get through with her, I will fix her
so that she won’t suit you quite so Well!” cried
Wild Zeph, again boiling with rage, at this
flouting in her face of his dislo alty to herself.

“ Ef ou touch her, you hell on—” ‘

But aving crossed the threshold with one
heavy foot, as if about to spring upon her and
wrest the knife from her hand, he was brought
up with a round turn.

“ Stop! One step further, and I bury it to tle
hilt in her body.”

CHAPTER VII.
THE Simon‘s LI'I'I‘LE DODGE.

SO fiercely was this threat launched at him,
that he was fain to take. his unwelcome person
out of the door—not, however, without an oath,
save e, if impotent.

“ ring torches hyar!" he commanded.

It was getting so dark that he. could scarce]
make out the respecrive figures in the hut. A -
though she seemed to command the situation as
it was, he dreaded to give Zeph a chance to

 

Little Tornado.

 

 

   

carry out her threat without his seeing, so as to
at least make a desperate eflort to frustrate her.

On her side, the half-breed hesitated, casting
about in her mind for some means of securing
the girl alive, and subjecting her to the tortures
she had meditated.

“Death!” she reflected. “No! no! she shall
not escape me so. She shall live!
her watering the ground with her tears, as she
lies on her face, praying to her God to give her
the boon of death! But how to hold her alive,
yet keep her out of his clutches—that is the
question.”

Meanwhile Senor Ramirez had Withdrawn
beyond Wild Zeph’s range of vision through the
door, ostensibly to oversee the procurement of
the torches Colorado Steve had demanded, but
really for the purpose of that treachery which
was so congenial to his nature. ‘

He now touched Steve’s hand, and having
drawn his attention, beckoned him away from
the door.

Steve was reluctant to leave his post, but the
Spaniard was so earnest in his pantomime that
he at last complied.

“ What do ye want?” he demanded, with a
frown, yet guardedly, as evidently comported
with Ramirez’s wish for secrecy. ‘ Some 0’ yer
underhanded work, I’ll go bail!”

“ You are a. good shot,” began the Spaniard,
ignoring his surly manner.

“ Yes; but white men don’t shoot women, like
as if they was Greasersl”

“Have I asked you to shoot anybody?" asked
Ramirez, with some pardonable resentment of
his wanton insults.

“Come!” cried Colorado Steve, roughly, “I
don’t want no back talk out 0’ you, ye onder-
stand! Ef ou’ve got anythin’ to say, spit ’er
out, an’ re anged to yel—furI don’t propose
to stand iyar all night a-chinnin’ about it.”

amil'ez came to the point at once.

“ Let me go to the door with a torch, pretend-
ing to argue the matter with her in your be-
half. You then stand far enough back so that
she cannot see you in the dark, with the torch
in her eyes, and shoot the knife out of her
hand.”

“ Waal, I’ll be etarnally hornswaggled!”cried
Steve, lost in admiration of this scheme which
was so far beyond his capacity for invention.
“I’ve always said—an’ now by gee! I’ll sw’ar
it’s sol—that when the devil wants a new suit
0’ 010’s, he always comes to you fur the pat-
tern!”

Ramirez showed his teeth in a pleased smile
at this compliment to his fiendish talent.

A torch being ignited, the Spaniard caused
one of the Indians to hold it directly in the door-
way above his head.

Wild Zeph watched this proceeding suspici-
ously]. She believed that it was a device to out-
wit er, but as there was no access to the but
save through the door, she thought that she
had only to be on her guard against Ramirez’s
eloquence.

“ Senorita,” he began, in his oiliest tones.
dofling his sombrero to do her honor, “it is the
wish of my friend and your most devoted
adorer thatIexplain to on the true relation
between him and the norita Magdalena,
which is quite different from what you seem to
think.”

“ Gads l” muttered Colorado Steve, enthusias-
ticall , from his post in the rear. “ Don’t it
take hat tallow-hided co ote, though, to come
the honeyfugle dodge! e’d lie the claws off of
a grizzly b‘ar!"

He was skulking in the shadows, with his car-
bine in readiness, watchin for a chance to fire
at the weapon which Wil Zeph held in sus-
pense. Between him and the door were several
savages who must have sumcient confidence in
his aim to permit him to fire between their
bodies.

Madeline lay perfectly still, with her eyes
fixed as by fascination on the keen int of the
knife, awaiting the issue. She coul not release
her head, and dared not move lest she should
precipitate her fate.

“Look here, Ramirez." said Wild Zeph, con-
temptuously, “if Colorado Steve has anything
to 88y 50 me, why don't he say it himself?”

" Ah! but cansider, senorita," urged the
Spaniar , “the sight of your lover pleading for
another woman! Is it not enough to close your
ears against anything he might say; But when
his friend, on the honor of a gentleman, assures
you that his intentions toward the lady in no
way conflict with his loyalty to you; when it is
sworn to you that he is moved by revenge upon
those who have heaped insult upon h m, and
that through’her—”

Oradcl

 

I must see-

 

A thrill of excruciating pain shot up Wild
Zeph’s arm, and it fell numb and helpless to her
side, the knife having been dashed out of it by an
unseen missile.

With a laugh of triumph, Senor Ramirez
clapped his sombrero on his head, and lea (1
through the doorway, followed by sever of
the save es.

Wild e h saw at once that she had been
tricked. er rage was satanic. If she must
lose her victim, let her at least mar forever the
beauty in which lay her power. With the
hand she could still use she made a dive at
Madeline’s face. intending to rend the delicate
flesh with her nails, or perchance gouge out an
eye!

But seeing the knife disappear from before
her eyes, and divining the next resort of the
vixen, Madeline covered her face with her
hands, though she could not move further.

The next instant Senor Ramirez had torn
Wild Zeph from the body of her victim, and
held her, in spite of her frantic struggles—he
was valiant enough with women !—with her
hands behind her back.

The moment her hair was released, Madeline
writhed over upon her face, gathered ,her knees
under her, and scrambled to her feet.

Goaded by the frantic instinct to escape the
clutches of those fierce-looking savages, she
leaped over the body of the Indian bag, so as to
get between it and the wall, and fallingu on
her knees, clasped the wrinkled old neck in er
fresh young arms, feeling that age must be
some little protection.

The Indians who were not assisting Senor
Ramirez looked at her stolidly, certainly not
understanding her motive for hugging the bag,
who lay as unresponsive as if she were some
time blackened wooden idol.

Colorado Steve entered the hut grinning from
ear to ear.

“Waal, ma’am,” he said to Madeline, not
troubling himself to look at Wild Zeph, “I
allow as how we at ya out of a dog—gone nasty
hole in purty good shape. That thar critter is
as wicked as sin when she’s on full feed. But,
Lor’, nia’am! ye needn’t take on about her no
longer. I own her, I do; an’ ef I say ‘ Drop it!’
why, she’s got to drop it, ur she gits the buck-
skin! An’ jest take things easy, ma’am, all
round. Ye kin, jest as well as not. These‘hyar
Injuns. I’ll allow, ain’t sweet~smellin’—’special-
ly in fly-time—but I’m cock 0’ the walk hyar,
ye onderstand; so ye needn’t be afeard 0’ them.
But it turns my stummick to see ye a-slobberin’
over that thar ole blacksmith’s apron, I sw’ar it
does! Thar hain’t no sort 0’ call fur it: an’ ye
can’t git no more fur yer money a—pawin‘ over
her than ef she war a ship’s figger-head.”

Madeline gazed earnestly at the speaker.
Was there a ho a that his pu ose might not be
so cruel as she had feared? e seemed to be a
good-natured brute. She recalled that in the
encounter before the tavern he had acted as if
he considered the thing a joke rather than a.
serious fight.

“Oh, sir! tell me,” she exclaimed. “ why are
ggu with those terrible Indians? You cannot

so wicked as to lead them against people who
havle’ never harmed you, and of your own race,
too

“Waal, ma’am,” said Colorado Steve, with a
cenfldential air, while he twirled his hat
on one finger, “ye see, it’s all along 0’ this
dirty Greaser, hyar, the which he’s my pard,
an’ 0’ course I have to stand by him, allowm’ as
it's might low-lived work fur a white man an’ a
Christian! But you’re beknownst to the fact
that t’other day he was soused in the horse-
trough, the which it sarved him jest right. Dog
me ef I wouldn’t ’a’ held his head under, ef it
had ’a’ been my deal! But when you make a
mop of a man, right or wrong, it‘s naterral that
he should stand to git uar’. So the senor,
hyar, be says—‘Drop on em with a batch o’
Injuns,’ an’ hyar we be. The which the senor,
he hain’t got nothin’ to do with you, ma’am. 311’
ye needn’t take no account 0’ him whatsome-
dever.”

All this was said with such apparent honesty
that Madeline’s hopes began to revive.

“Then you do not mean to injure me?” she
asked, risin and standing with her hands clasp-
ed over heriosom.

“ Me I” cried Colorado Steve, grinning as if
the idea wasso preposterous as to beamusing.
“ Well, now, bless yer leetle heart an’ soull—I
wouldn’t hurt a hair 0’ yer purty head fur—
Hawl haw! haw! That that is good—that is!
Me hurt ye 1”

And Colorado Steve twirled his hat and ogled
her with the mixed admiration and bashfalness
of_a country gawky in love.

 

 

 

There was no questioning that Wild Zeph had
very good grounds for her jealousg, as far as
her recreant lover was concerned ' ut this was
not particularly distasteful to Madeline, if it
took the innocent form of devotion at a dis-
tance.

“ Then you will return me to my friends!”
she asked, in painful suspense.

“ Waal, ma’am, ye see it wouldn’t be quite
safe, not jest now at the present time, when the
Injuns is on the p’int o’ cleanin’ out the stock-
ade. An’ not wishin’ ye to come to harm—”

“Oh! I am willing to share the fate of my
friends l” cried Madeline, who began to fear that
there was such a thing as his being too z:alous
in her defense.

“ Ye shall look over the ground, ma’am, an’
then I reckon you’ll change yer mind. Ye see,
when these red devils gits started, thar’s no tell-
in’ whar they’ll fetch up; an’ they’ve come
pledged to clean out the glen, root an’ branch.”

“But you have influence with them. Cannot
you prevent this terrible work?” cried Madeline,
determining to use her power over this seeming-
ly honest grizzly, if she had any, for the benefit
of her friends.

“ Waal, nia’am, ye see, it’s mostly the say 0’
the senor; which the same it was him as ot
seiiSed in the horse-trough, to the truth 0’ which
you’re beknownst yerself.”

“Yes! yes! but on yourself just said that it
was no more than e deserved! Must innocent
women and children suffer to gratify his brutal
revenge?”

Colorado Steve scratched his head reflectively,
as if this were a nice point to be considered.

“M——m weal,” he said, presently, “ the senor,
bein’ although he’s a Greaser. an’ Greasers is all
alike, an’ powerful bad medicine—yet he’s got
feelin’s like the rest 0’ us—the which you must
allow yerself; an’ it’s mighty r’iiin’ fur to git a
horse-trough swabbed out with yer. It must be
mighty r’ilin’!” he added, shaking his head, as
be measured the natural effect on one’s feelings.

Seeing that it was useless to try to reason with
such an animal as this, Madeline had recourse
toa woman’s weapon before which most men
are only too ready to “ give up the ship.” She
fell upon her knees before him, and wnh tears
streaming from her beautiful eyes, besought him
to take the side of humanit .

Steve shifted his weight rom one foot to the
other, and twirled his hat in great seeming em-
barrassment at her distress; but he got no fur-
ther than that “it was the senor’s funeral, the
which he, Steve, wasn’t supposed to be a~run-
nin’ of it.”

Senor Ramirez stood by with glittering eyes,
waiting for Madeline to appeal to him; but know-
ing that his devilish nature could not be moved,
she did not give him the satisfaction of refusing
her in his polished way.

Finding all hopeless, she yielded herself to
Colorado Steve’s direction, and they prepared
to leave the hut.

Then came the guestion as to what disposal
was to be made 0 the bag, who et lay as she
had since Madeline’s entrance. he had had a
quarrel with her daughter that morning, and
this was a case of sulks, not different in kind,
but in de ree, from what we sometimes see in
people w 0 call themselyes civilized.

Since she had been overpowered and pinioned,
Wild Zeph had stood in stony silence, only the
baleful glitter of her eyes showing the hurri-
cane of passion that raged beneath the surface.
She fixed her eyes upon Colorado Steve, as
passing through the doorway with Madeline at
his side, he turned at Senor Ramir< z’s question,
and cast a careless glance at her mother.

“ It’s your game. Pitch the trunip to suit
yourself,” be answered indiff‘erently.

“ Caramba! what have I to do with old
he s?” muttered Ramirez.

find turning to the silent Apache chief, he
sa'd

i :

“My heathen friend, I haVe no doubt that
you will know what to do with one of your
own people better than I should.”

“ g ! No goodl” was the Apache’s sum-
mary disposal of the matter.

And reaching the side of the old squaw with
two strides, he coolly drew his tomahawk and
sunk it to the eye in her skull!

A quiver ran through Wild Zeph’s frame as
she stood and saw this ruthless hutchery, but
she uttered no sound, nor did she make the
sli htest move. to prevsnt it.

nor Ramirez shrugged his shoulders, and.
motioned her to precede him through the door.

Already outside,Madeline was spared this hor-
rible sight.

She found that the night sky was illuminated
with a lurid glare. As they traversed the pass

 

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' 3*~"—‘ " v». "I" - . c- . «-l/:..7£=;r.4§ . - ‘. avkvst-‘ux-l‘. -... » .A ‘1-1 . ' ..., ‘

10

and reached the glen she saw how the ruthless
hand of the destroyer had laid waste all the fair
fields on which the sun had set. The grain that
had waved in the evening wind was now being
licked up by running tongues of fire. The houses
they had built, driving with every nail a hope
for the loved ones to be sheltered by them, were
wrapped in flames.

At thought of the liaprinesndestroyed by that
nigté’s wretched work, lllndeline could not re-
strain her tears.

She was placed under a guard of Indians
where she could see the preparations to assail
the stockade. This now :tood alone untouched

in the midst of desolation.

CHAPTER VIII.
A BOLD VENTURE.

WHEN Old Buncomb recovered consciousness,
the first face his eyes opened upon was Ruth‘s.
She was on her knees beside him, bathing his
face with water, and weeping bitterly all the
time.

“W'hat is the matter with me? What has
happened?” he asked, in bewilderment.

“ Oh! don’t you knowé—the terrible fight
with the Indians at the gate of the Stockade?”

He lifted himself on his elbow and stared
around.

Women were running hither and thither,
huddling their frightened children together like
hens brooding their chickens at the sight of a
hawk. Others sat weeping and wringing their
hands over the loss of their worldly all. One
poor creature was inconsolable. Her boy had
been out to drive the Cows home when the alarm
came, and had not reached the stockade. She
was hanging about Mrs. Fortescue’s neck; and
the two were sharing their bereavement.

Men were rushing about, distributing ammu-
nition to others who were firing through the
loo holes of the inclosure.

n all sides was the wildest excitement and
disorder.

Even while he collected his scattered wits the
firing ceased. The Indians had got to cover.

“Yes! yes! I recall it all now,” he said, put-
tin his hand to his head. “ But how did I get
bac into the stockade? I remember nothing
since I was cutting my way through the savages
to get—to get—”

6 stopped, at a loss, and Ruth answered his
questi0n.

“ It was Sidney that brought you in. Oh! you
should have seen how he fought to reach you!
And then, after you were struck down, he got
you on his back, and ran through the gate with
you. Oh! it was beautiful, but so terrible!”

“ Yes—yes.” said Old Buncomb, vaguely, as
if still in search of a lost link in the chain of

recollection. " But what was I trying to get?
It seems—”

With a sob in her voice Ruth told him, in a
whisper:

“It was Maddie! Oh! what has become of
her?”

With a sharp ejaculation Old Buncomb leaped
to his feet.

“ Madeline!"

Then he stood trembling and looking about.

“ Where is Little Tornado?"

Without stopping for an answer, he set out in
search of him. -

Little Tornado was in the thick of the fight,
you may believe. He was always where the
music was loudest.

“ Come! We have not a moment to lose!"
said Old Buncomb, seizing him by the shoulder
where he found him in a group of men twice
his age.

“ Vhat’s to be done?” asked our hero,
promptly.

“ You must ride to the post for help.”

" l was just arguing that point with the com-
mandant. I am glad that you have come to
back me."

“ But, Bunker,” said Mr. Thurston, “ we can-
not expose the boy to such risks, with his inex-
perience and rashness. If it must be done—
though 1 am free to confess that I do not see
how any one is to get Out of the stockade, sur-
rounded as it is, without detection and death—
let some one older make the attempt.”

“I’ll show you how it is to be done,” cried
Little Tornado, with that sanguine confidence

 

in himself which the commandant had just been i
|

deprecatin .
‘ He wil do better than any man you have,”
said Old Buncomb, uietly. "Let him go.

will answsr for his skill and prudence, so far as
one can be prudent in so desperate a case as
this. One must take great chances when death
waits on failure.”

" But his .mother!” said the commandant,

 
 

advers-

Little Tornado.

lowering his voice. “Rememher that she is
mourning one child now. We cannot ask her
to give her last to almost certain death, even to
save the rest of us.”

He remember! As if every nerve in his body
were not thrilling with anguish over the same
loss!

“ It is not death that menaces her,” he said,
his voice steady and cold. “ In bringing help
to the glen, her brother will be bringing her the
best chance of escape. It is because I believe
that he will be more certain of success than
any one else, that I wish him to be the one to
tr ."

y‘ I’ll go!” said Little Tornado, decidedly.

“ Then God go with you!” said Mr. Thurston,
fervently, putting his hand on his shoulder with
paternal tenderness. “ But be careful—be Very
careful.”

He loved the boy with a father’s love, for his
own worth, as well as because he knwv that
Ruth had set her young affections on l.iul.

“You may depend upon me, sir,” said Little
Tornado, respectfully. “Of Course I know
that I may be carrying the safety of all here
with me.”

And he thought of Ruth as he spoke. No
danger of his not taking eVery precaution
where her safety was at stake.

“ Come with me,” said Old Buncomb, moving
off without further loss of time. He was
more restless than he would let those around
him see.

He led the way toward an out-house which
stood within the inclosure of palisades. It was
Used as an ammunition and storehouse.

“I’Ve must reduce the risk to a minimum,”
he said. “There are lut twri white men who
can be known as such and live outside of this
Stockade to-night."

“We!” repealed Lit-.le Tornado. “Are
you gping, too! What is the need? I can man-
age—

“I am going out, but not to interfere with
you,” interrupted Old Buncomb.

“But what_else—- What for?”

" Can’t you guess?”

He turned his clouded face toward the boy.

Sidney looked into his eyes a moment in
silence; then he replied:

“ I think I can guess.”

. “Well, then, there is no need of saying any-
thing more about it.”

“ Bunker!”

Little Tornado extended his hand.

Old Buncomb clasped it in silence.

“God bless you, old man, and give you suc-
cessl”

His voice shook. Old Buncomb knew that
another heart was aching Ls sinfully as his
own over the unknown fate o Madeline For-
tescue.

S “ You lugged me back into the stockade,

id.”

“ Ruth told you?”

“Yes. It was a mad, a foolish thing for me
to do—to risk everything where there was no
chance but to lose.”

“I tried to do what a boy could to fetch
things out right,” said Sidney, a little mali-
ciougky.

“ e changed places there, for a fact,”

admitted Old Buncomb. “ But you may depend

upou,me now, as I have learned to depend upon
'I

“ That makes us square!” said Little Tornado,
extending his hand.

And so they entered the out-house.

From a box, which was his Own private prop-
erty, Old Buncomb took the whole outfit of an
Indian, in the way of clothes, from the feathered
headdress to the moccasins.

“They are rather large for you," he said;
“ but an Intiian’s garments are seldom cut very
close to scale. I guess you can make them pass
in the dark."

“ They’re beauties!” cried Little Tornado, in
delight. “My own mother wouldn’t know me
in ’em, with a lit.le burnt umber on my face
and hands.”

“ We have that, too,” said Old Buncomb, tak-
ing the pigment out of a small box.

“ Why! how do you come 1) all of these
things?” cried Little Tornado, looking at his
Companion curiously. “ Have you ever been on
the stage?”

“They are very convenient to have in this
country, aren‘t they?” asked Old Buncomb,
eylading the last question, perhaps unintention-
a y.
“ Yes—certainly.”

“ I thought they mi ht be, sometime. Now,
as you’re not used to t is sort of thing, perhaps
you will let me put you in trim.”

 

.. ".m... -. _. .- .,

  

“ But where is your rig?”

“I will get one when the time comes.”

And Old Buncomb set to work to transform
Little Tornado into an Indian brave.

To guard against eVery possible accident, in-
stead of confining his work to face, neck, hands,
arms and thighs—which are the ordinarily ex-
posed parts of an Indian’s body—Old Buncomb
insisted on staining Little Tornado's skin a fine
butternut brown, from the crown of his head to
the soles of his feet. He further dyed his hair
coal'black. Then, when he had arranged his
dress and given him his weapons, the effect was
perfect. Leaving out of account the cast of
features, no one could have told that it was a
disguised white.

“ What will Ruth say?” cried Little Tornado,
surveying himself ruefully. “She will never
alcknowledge such a hemlock-tanned Yankee as
t iis!’

“Suppose you go and find out whether that is
so ?” said Old Buncomb. “ I will be ready pres-
ent! .”

Listtle Tornado acted on this suggestion.

At sight of him a woman screamed and
fainted. Others Were set to trembling, and bad
to hear him Speak before they were fully per-
suaded that it was one of their own people, and
not a savage who had somehow gained admit-
tance to the stockade. The children cried and
shrunk away, even when he spoke to them, and
their parents assured them that it was all
right.

His mother ran to him all atremble.

“Oh, Sidney !” she cried, putting her arms
about him and weeping on his breast. “I can’t
let you go! Indeed, my son, this is too much!
Was there no one else, that they must rob me of
both of my children?”

He consoled her, himself much moved by her
low for him. Then he persuaded her to 0
into the house and lie down where she won d
be quiet and give her nerves a chance to recover
their tone.

Ruth looked at him through tears, and trem-
bled even while she clung to him, as he put his
arms about her and kissed her.

She charged him over and over again to be
careful, for her sake, and told him how her
heart stood still at the thought of the danger he
was going into, at the same time that it beat ex—
ultantly that Old Buncomb, whose words had
been repeated all through the stockade, had
said that he was the best qualified to go on such
an errand.

He got full measure of the soldier’s meed—the
homage of woman.

Then Old Buncomb made his appearance.

Every one was astonished to see a stranger,
with a smooth face, black hair, and a complex-
ion dark as an Indian’s, come, as if he had
droplped from the clouds, into their midst.

“ Jove !” cried Little Tornado, his eyes
5 ark ing with admiration. “ 1 never dreamed
t at you was such a dandy for good looks!
And so young. too! What the deuce have on
meant, anyway, by making yourself look ike
an old codger all this time? But it wasn’t neces-
sary to sacrifice all of that magnificent suit of
whiskers—I mean to bring out your real self.
Lapping a little of the tangle-brush would have
done it. But where‘s your dress?"

“ It is out yonder,” replied Old Buncomb,
cool! . “ A friend of mine is keeping it for me
until I call for it."

"And do you mean to say that you have
given me the only dress you had, and :‘re about
to get one off a savage’s back after you have got
outside of the Stockade?"

“ You might perhaps reasonably infer as
much," said the smut quietly.

“ Look here, Bunky! You‘ve
this dress yourwlf."

“ You Seem to have a very poor opinion of
my steadfastnrss of purpose,” said Old Bun-
comb. “ 'W'hen I put that on you, don’t you
think I meant it to stay i” I

“ But you have no right to surprise me—no,
cheat Die—into the acceptaDCe of such a sacri-
flee.”

Old Buncomb bent toward him, and said into
his ear, in a low voice which no one else could
hear:

“ I gave it to your sister’s brother.”

Little Tornado looked at him, and then silent.
1y extended his hand.

“ lf—if,” said Old Buncomb, unsteadily
“ shot is saved through your efforts, and I—i
-—fai —"

'He stopped a moment: and his auditor knew
that he was thinking that, if he failed, he would
not be alive to tell her himself. Ther. be con-
cluded:

“ Tell her that I did it—will you!”

got to take

 

Little Tornado.

1].

 

 

  
 
 

“ Indeed I will, old fellow!” cried Little Tor-
nado, wringing his hand. “But there will be
no need of my telling her, unless because of
your modesty.’

And he smiled his confidence in his friend.

Old Buncnmb turned away without reply, to
meet Mr. Thurston, who cried:

“But what is this that they tell me? You
are not going too? Indeed, Bunker, we can’t
spare you! What is the stockade going to do,
without men to defend it? They may attack us
at a?! moment after dark.”

“ ndoubtedly: but you cannot think that I
have overlooked that obvious fact.”

“But why will not one do to make the at-
tempt to get to the post? \Vait until we have
some proof that he has failed—Which God for-
bid!”

“I shall not accompany Sidney,” said Old
Buncomb.

“ But what then—”

“I have hopus of being able to bring her
daughter back to the poor woman who is sor-
rowing in yonder. And you do not forget that
she is my pardner’s Sister. If I send him away,
I owe it to him to take the place he would
otherwie ocCupy, in attempting to effect her
rescue.”

There was no use in trying to argue with this
quiet, decided man.

“ Do as you think best,” said the Commandant.
“I have every confidence in your judgment
and interest in the welfare of these defenseless
people.”

Then they waited for the darkness to cover
their movements; and it was during this time
that Madeline was having her experience with
Colorado Steve.

The gate of the stockade was toward the cen~
ter of the glen, and was therefore illuminated
by the confiagration which was desolating the
fields and homes of the besieged settlers; but
directly opposite, so that it was thrown by con-
trast into denser shadow, was a neally con-
structed sally-port in the wall of the stockade.
It was designed to meet that last, desperate
contingency, when a garrison is forced by star-
vation or for other cause, to abandon its de-
fenses in the depths of the night, and trust to
escape through the enemy’s lines and flight
across the open country. That it might be
available for this purpose, it must be kept
secret; and so secretly had it been constructed,
and so perfect was its adjustment to the other
parts 0 the wall, that less than a dozen men in
the glen knew of its existence. These were the
commandant and a few of the most reliable men
of the settlement.

Through this sally-port Old Buncomb and
Little Tornado made their exit so quietly that
few in the stockade knew when they went.

Old Buncomb went first. It was full fifteen
minutes later that Little Tornado followed
him. He knew every inch of the ground, so
that he had no difficulty in making his way
d0wn the slope of the slight eminence on which
the palisade stood, into a. densely-wooded glen
whigh wound through the hills to the plain be-

on .

He neither saw nor heard anything of Old
Buncombghut he soon found that the Indians
were movmg about so promiscuously that he
judged it safer to proceed boldly, trusting to
the perfectness of his disguise, than to be caught
skulking.

But he had hardly proceeded twenty rods,
when what he had observed among the others
failed in his case. They had passed and repass-
ed without speaking to one another; but as he
was hurrying by a group upon which he came,
one of them called to him, saying something in
Apache, which was as unintelligible to him as if
he had been addressed in Hebrew.

Now came the test of his metal!

He walked straight up to them; and there
were not less than a dozen or fifteen in the

party! _
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE ENEMY‘S CAMP.

OLD BUNKER’S first need was an Indian out
fit; and. making the same discovery that Little
Tornado did a few minutes later, he soon saw
that he could not proceed f ir undetected with-
out one.

But the very fact that the savages were so
many and so disconnected gave him his oppor—
tunity. He could drop one, and the rest would
never miss him—unless they chanced upon his
dead body. Then there would be a counting of
nosasl

As they moved about without caution, sup-
posing that they had nothing to fear, he had no

 

 

 

difficulty in knowin when any one was in his
yicinity. He there ore easily selected his vic-
1m.

The doomed wretch, with his arms full of
brush, passed by a tree behind which he had
taken his position. He stepped out behind him.
There was a quick blow. The fagot-carrier fell
to the ground, as if he had tripped over a root.
Another body went down with his. A moment
later he was borne into the hollow trunk of the
tree which had secreted his slayer.

Two or three minutes passed. An Indian to
all appearances, so like the faggot—carrier that he
could not have been distinguished unless he ex—
posed his face to a broad glare of light, issued
from the tree, picked up the brush, and passed
on in the direction the other had been going.

As he neared the point to which others were
bearing like burdens, he was soon surrounded
on all sides by them. He was addressed, and
made answer, in the Apache dialect, his gut-
turul tones differing in nothing from those of
his interlocutors. Then he roamed at will, $00.)
discovering whore Madeline was seated under
guard, with \Vild Zepli near her,

Zepli’s hands were still bound; but Madeline
was free from any restraint save her guards.

Old Buncomb knew that he could do nothing
for her with so many about her. Two, or even
three, he might have managed in a desperate
strait; but wnh extraordinary caution, Colorado
Steve had placed half a dozen on duty. It was
not that he feared for Madeline so much, but
that he knew that Wild Zeph was equal to al-
most anything.

But Old Buncomb had seen the Woman whose
safety was the only been he asked of heaven.
She sat watching in dry-eyed misery the fiends’
work that was going on about her; but her
quiet manner told him that no serious injury
had come to her yet. She was safe—she was
Well; restore her to liberty and security, and
twenty-flur hours of rest would make her her
old bright, beautiful self again!

With this music singing in his heart, he went
to prepare the way for her rescue.

He first found that her horse. still saddled,
was tied near those ridden by Colorado Steve
and Senor Ramirez. Having seen them before,
be easily recognized them among the mustangs
used by the Apaches. The presence of Made-
line’s horse here indicated that Steve meant to
mount her upon it when he took his departure
from the desolated glen.

“But she must have a better mount than a
horse that has stood what he has gone through
to-day,” said Old Buncomb to himself. “ When
the time comes, we must be able to show them
a clean pair of heels. Lucky for me that they
did not think it worth while to put these ani-
mals under guard, or I should have been puzzled
to make the exchange.”

His next care was Little Tornado. He had
assigned the time of his making his venture, so
as to give himself opportunity to procure and
get into his Indian rig, in order that he might
lend the boy assistance if he got into trouble.

Going round opposite the sallyport, he waited
for him to make his appearance. He did not
join him, since it was his purpose to leave him
to his own devices as much as possible.

“The boy is a born scout!” he exclaimed,
when he saw him throw of! his caution for the
holder demeanor which was really safer. “He
has the readiness of resource in emergency—
the quickness to grasp a situation, and the bold-
ness to act vigorously.”

He was charmed to see the firmness with
which Little Tornado walked up to the gl‘ougof
savages, one of whom had called to him. ~ut
as the boy did not understand the Indian dialect,
he was afraid to leave him unassisted to the
chances of the tickiish position in which he
found himself.

Little Tornado saw that they had felled a
large tree and were about to lift it. He guessed
that they had summoned him tohelp; and if that
Was $0. probably no particular reply WOUId he
reqmred, provided he borea hand. He there-
fore resolved to make such shift as he could wiih
sullen grunts. If he was spoken to more parti—
cularly, and awakened their suspicions, he would
have to run for it, trusting to his lightness of
heel and the friendly. darkness. If, on the other
hand. he could scrape through without betray-
ing the fact that there was any one from the
Stockade outside, he was willing to take great
risks; for to disclose this fact would put the sav-
ages on their guard, and therefore make his
friend’s task not only more difficult, but also
more hazardous.

But at the critical moment a shadowy figure
appeared beside him. His hand was grasped
and pressed thrice in quick succession, as if to

 

He heard two words that had

convey a signal.
They were:

a very pleasant sound just then.

“ All right!”

Then the speaker kept directly on in Apache;
and he knew that it was Old Buncomb!

By the clever device of answering as if he
thought it was he that had been addressed, Old
Buncomb cOvered Little Tornado’s silence.
Then side by side they lifted on the tree-trunk
which was to be used as a battering—ram.

Having carried it to its destination, they were
again free, and went off together.

“That was a tight squeak!” laughed Little
Tornado.

“ Hush l” cautioned Old Buncomb.
talk about that some other time.”

Then, as they went, he. occasionally made
some observation in Apache, and answered him»
self in a different pitch of voice, so that if they
passed any one near enough to be overheard, it
sounded as if they were conversing in the In»
dian dialect.

Get ting clear of the savages, they made their
way to the horses which were tethered to gram:
on the plains beyond the hills to the eastward.
It was fortunate for their present needs that
the glen had been alarmed just before boys had
been sent to fetch the animals in.

“ This is the fellow that is to take me twenty
miles in sixty minutes!” said Little Tornado,
Selecting one of the animals.

“ No,” said Old Buncomb. “ Your sister is to
ride that horse tonight. He. may be called
upon to take her five miles inside of ten minutes
before daylight.”

“You are about as modest in your re uire~
menisas I am,” said Little Tornado. “ ut I
liOpe that he may make it if called upon.”

“You will take Fitler’s mare and the roan
that Danforth was hoping to pit against her
this f ll,” said Old Buncomb. “ By riding
them alternately and using the one that is run—
ning free to stimulate the one that is carrying
you, on can get their best speed out of them.”

“ ell me one thing,” said Little Tornado, as.
he leaped upon the back of one of the animals,
and took the other by the leading-line, “have
you seen Madeline i”

“ We can

H Yes.”

“ And she is—”

“ \Vell.”
] “Thank God for that! Good-night, old to].
0W1”

He rode straight out from the hills to the east-
ward, at a. walk, but when he had got beyond
earshot he turned northward; and then any one
who had seen the(pace he urged those horses to,
by keeping the le one half a neck in advance
r. the one that carried his weight, would have
thought that a famous handicap.

Meanwhile Old Buncomb drew the tethering-
pin of another horse, and led that and the one
he had selected for Madeline round to where he
was to make the exchange.

Havin efflcted this without detection, he
joined adeline’s guards, throwing himself
down near her, as if weary.

Now he was ready to take advantage of the
slightest negligence on the part of her enemies.
His greatest hope lay in the excitement which
would attend the attack on the stockade. He
knew that to those wild natures it would be a.
difficult thing to resist the temptation to aban-
don their post and join in the mad excitement
of carnage. Then if his opportunity came, he
would overpower such of her guard as were-
left, hurry her to the horse he had provided for
her, hamstring those the speed of which he had
re:ison to fear, and make a bee-line for the mili-
tary post. .

As yet, he feared to make himself known to
her, lest in some exigency which might arise
she should betray him by an appeal to him in
supposed extremity. Unknown to her, he could
use his own judgment.

Everything was finally in readiness for the

attack; but the besiegei‘s had to wait until fires
they had kindled should burn out, so that they
no longer illuminated the space about the
Stockade.
_ Senor Ramirez had exhausted his ingenuity
in inventing engines of war which shoul i make
the storming of the stockade not only irresist-
ible, but an event of peculiar horror in the
lurid record of border warfare.

He had given directions that all of the bed—
ding and cloth of every description found in the
houses should be removed before they Were set
on fire, and all lard and grease of any kind.
These materials he made into fireballs—each
having a stone in the center to give it weight—
which be distributed among a score of stations
fixed at intervals around the palisade. At each-
of these stations he constructed a catapult, cs-

 

  

 

12

 

Little Tornado.

 

 

giant sling, by stripping two saplings standing

close together, and tying to their tops ropes of
«equal length, the other ends of which were fas-
tened to a board with a hole in the center, so
that the whole looked very like an ordinary
swing, save that the board was as high as a man
-could reach from the round.

If, now, this boar were pulled d0wn and
back at such an angle as it was desired to give
the projectile, and the object to be thrown—a
stone, fire-ball, or what not—-were placed upon
this board, the hole in which would keep it
from sliding off, and, finally, the boards were re-
leased, then the trees, in springing back to place,
would throw the missile into the air, with a
force porportioned to their stiffness and the dis
tance they were bent from the perpendicular.
Any boy who has used a rubber sling tied to a
for ed stick will understand this contrivance.

A little practice will enable the operator
of such a machine to throw missiles short dis-
tances with considerable accuracy of aim and
range, and a soore of such slings properly
manned would give a small garrison ample
“£011! extinguishing the fire they threw in upon
t em.

In view of his revenge, Senor Ramirez had
educated his gunners—if they can be so called—
in advance.

But this was to be the last resort. He sus-
pected that the money and valuables of small
compass of the settlers were kept in the stock-
ade, and be determined to take it by assault if
possible, so that he might reap profit as well as
satisfaction from the enterprise.

To this end he had prepared the battering-
ram and scaling—ladders; and that they might
be used without exposing his men to a wither-
.ing3fire, he was forced to wait for darkness.

uring this interval Colorado Steve came and
sat down beside Madeline, staring at her with a
dull g10w of admiration in his eyes.

Wild Zeph sat mute and unnoticed, watching
them with the same suppressed ferocity that
had characterized her ever sincs she had been
bound. .

Unable to endure longer the suspense of not
knowing her captor’s purpose with her, Made-
line once more besought him to restore her to
her friends.

“Waal, ma’am," he said slewly, “I’ve been
a-thinkin’ 0’ this hyar thin over; an’ it
amounts to about the same thin an way ye
kin look at it. Ye see, my mo ter as al’uys
been: Whenever ’ye git a good thing, keep it!
Waal, now, I’ve a1 ays wanted a critter of about
your p‘ints, as nigh as I kin make it out; an’
now as I’ve got what fills the bill sp well, 0’
coarse it’ll stan’ me in hand to hang on to

“ But what do you mean i" cried Madeline, in
dismay. “ I am nothing to you i"

“M—m, waal, that jest depends,” said Colo-
rado Steve, deliberately. “ Ye see, it’s the
tsenor's idee. He has a hankerin’ arter that
thar tow-head. ye onderstand, the which you
shunted him oil? the track h‘irnsome when he sot
himself to honeyfuglin’ of her. That thar’s the
senor’s way, which the same it ain’t mine,
and don’t ye furgit it! When I want a
woman critter fur to come down, Mr. Crockett.
I talks business to her; none 0’ yer cussin’ an’
Iw’arin’, nur cioutin’, nur taking yer boot to
her, 9 onderstand, but only business. N0w,
says to ’em, ye don’t know what a clever fel-
low I be. The woman as‘ties to Colorado Steve
-don’t have to dog her life out. like a squaw as
is hiiched to one these hyar lazy Injun bucks.
She’s a lady, she is, what don’t have to do nothin’
at all from mornin’ till night but jest grow harn-
somer an’ harnsomer. She has all the caliker

ownds she wants, an’ jew’lry jest like they do
n the States. 0:! thar ain’t nothin’ low-down
about me, ye onderstand, when it comes to
women critters 3”

With a horrible sense of loathing Madeline
realized that this rude fellow was paying court
to herl He was going to have her whether or
:10: but he was willing to reconcile her to her
« 0t.

“ But this is infamous !” she cried, springingto
her feet. “ Do you think that I would submit
'to such an outrage? I despise you! i would
rather kill myself than be the degraded slave of
'such a wretch as you!"

Colorado Steve leoked at her with a broaden-
ing smile of admiration. He liked her best in
these moments of tragic beauty.

“ Waal,” he replied, “it don’t make so much
difference to me how ye feel, so long as ye keep
yer claws out o’ my wool. I reckon we'll git
along about as most folks do. Thar’sagood
deal 0’ clapperclawin’ in this hyar world; but I
suppose it’s fur to keep people from goin’ to

 

sleep. Thar‘s nothin’ like music in the house
fur to make the time pass!”

Shaken in every nerve, Madeline turned to
fly from this cool monster; but the savages
stood round her as stolid as dumb brutes. In an
agony of despair, she sunk down and covered
her face with her hands.

Standing within ten feet of her, Old Bun-
comb’s feelings were indescribable; but no out-
ward sigu of emotion distinguished him from
the save res about him.

Senor amirez now made his appearance to
announce that the time had come for storming
the stockade.

 

CHAPTER X.
STORMING THE STOCKADE.

IN the stockade every moment had been occu-
pied making preparations for a desperate de-
fense. But the time had passed in terrible sus-
pense. it Was near midnight; Old Buncomb
and Little Tornado had been gone considerably
over two hours: and notu sound had been heard
from them since they had passed through the
sally-port.

Scattered about the glen, which was now a
fire-blackened desert, only heaps of dull red em-
bers showed where the houses of the settlershad
stood.

“Now be in readiness for a sudden attack,”
said the commandant, passing around the in-
closure to see that every man was in his place
and on the alert.

He had hardly regained his 'own lace near
the gate, when there was a rush, an the solid
oaken barrier quivered under a shock like a
thunderbolt.

“Fire!” cried the commandant; and a long
line of flame appeared across the face of the
palisade.

Then the scene that followed was indescribable.

'From the covert on every side rushed dark

forms. Ladders were put against the wall, up
each of which poured streams from the tossing
sea of humanity below.

But up from behind the parapet rose other
dark forms in furious opposition.

Fire-arms flashed their death signals. Dull,
sodden blows were exchanged. Ladders were
pushed away, to fall with their living freight
backward.

Yells, curses, groans, resoundcd on every side;
and with rhythmic regularity came the thun-
der-crash of the battering-ram.

Inside of the stockade the children were shut
in the cominandant’s house under the care of
the more timid women. he bolder settlers’
wives and daughters stood near their husbands
and fathers, loading their rifles for them, and
in some cases using them with good effect them-
selves. O'hers cared for the wounded and did
such running back and forth as was needed.

It was an hour when even the boys became
heroes.

But in spite of all, the savages gained a foot-
ing in one place, beating back the defenders,
and Swarming OVer the wall.

The commandant had made provision so that
such a contingency might not strike panic into
his ranks, and by drawing all to one point to
repel the invaders, denude the rest of the wall,
leavin it exposed to asecond successful esca-
lade. 6 had divided them into parties. each
of which was evenly distributed about the pa!-
isade; each man knew the party to which he
was assigned, and upon call they were to rally
to any point required. When they had served
the purpose for which they had thus been called
together, they could be remanded to their places
by a word of command.

He now cried:

“ First rally! To the east walll Rally! rally!
First rally to the east wall!”

From every point men came rushing across
the inclosure; but the proportionate dispersion
was not changed, only weakened by one-fourth,
while at the point where they maSSed the in-
vaders found themselves charged with desperate
energy.

But as the constant stream poured over the
wall at their backs, they were reinforced as fast
as they were beaten down, until the comman-
dant cried once more:

” Second rally!”

Then a second detachment came to the sup-
port of the first. leaving the wall in general
with half its original 'defenders. These were
desperately pressed in many places, but they
fought on as men will fight who know that de‘
feat means death to themselves and life worse
than death to their loved ones.

“Charge themi Down with the red devils!”
shouted the commandant.

 

And clubbing his rifle—for he could not wait
for reloading—he fell upon his foes like a mad-
man.

His men followed his example; and presently
those they had left to struggle on without
knowing what was happening at their backs
had their fainting hopes revived by hearing
rousing Yankee cheers. They knew that that
meant victory; and they responded lustily, and
threw new energy into their own efforts.

The entrance over the wall which they had
made cost the savages dear. Their dead and
wounded lay in a great heap at this point with-
in the palisade, over which the victors climbed
as they regained the wall, and buried back the
ladders which had so nearly proved fatal to
them.

The assault was a failure. The gate stood
firm, and the escalade was beaten back at every
point. The Apache chief called his forces eff in
sullen rage.

“ Well, we have tried the white man’s way,”
he said, “and my people are food for coy-
otes.”

He addressed Colorado Steve, speaking in his
own tongue; but he glowered at Senor Rami-
rez, whom he considered the cause of this
fiasco.

Colorado Steve took the matter quite coolly,
though his Spanish partner turned a sickly yel-
low with fear when Steve translated to him.

“What does he say?” he had asked, judging
from the savage’s manner that it was nothing
particularly com limentary to him.

And Colorado teve had answered: ~

“ He says that you are an infernal fool fur
insis'in’ on doin’ a thing the hardest way, an’
tharby makin’ crow-bait out 0’ his braves. If
you hadn't been sich a hog, you wouldn’t ’z'.’
tried it;—you know that.”

This was a very liberal translation, it must
be c0nfessed; but perhaps it was not far from
the spirit of the Apache’s words.

“ Well,” said Senor Ramirez, angrily, " if
you‘re going to burn them out, yOu might as
Well begin at once.”

“,Now ye’re shoulin’i” was Colorado Steve’s
well-satisfied response, as he gave the signal for
the stCOnd attempt.

During the conflict just described Old Bun-
comb’s breast was a battle—ground of conflict-
ing emotions which ebbed and fl0wed with the
changing vicissitudes of the struggle of which
he was an inactive witness. He longed to be
putting in his blow, foremost among his friends
so hard beset. A single arm might turn the
fortunes of war. Again and again he reproach-
cd himSelf for his abandonment of them. But
then he saw the bowed figure before him.

Madeline sat with her face buried in her lap,
her eyes and ears stopped to shut out the horri-
ble sights and sounds that assailed her shrink-
ing senses. She shuddered and moaned and

rayed. And Old Buncomb waited for a
avorable opportunity to catch her up in his
arms, and rush of! to the horses with her.

It did not come. Her savage guards, though
greatly excited, stood fast by their post.

And now a beautiful blue star shot up into
the air at an angle of forty-five degrees, de-
scribed a graceful curve, ard fell into the stock-
ade. It was followed by another and another,
and then by a flight of them from eVery direc-
tion. The spectacular effect was very like a
bombardment with Roman candles.

But within the palisade they had reason to
know that it was not such harmless amusement.
It was as if it rained fire from Heaven. Every-
where the fire-balls alighted, burning furiously,
and oozing pine resin which blazed up as it ran.

There was a spring of living water within the
Stockade, and an ample supply of fire-buckets;
but the men, and even the women, were kept
so bu~ pui ting out the fire which ever blazed in
a fres spot, that they _could have spared few
to defend the wall against such an assault as
that which they bad Just defeated.

But this was not now the purpose of the
savages. They were burning for revenge from
the severe punishment the had received.
Nothing but fire would satisfy them. They
would not abate one pang of their distracted
enemies.

Old Buncomb could not look upon this un-
moved. He_saw the houses within the palisade
blaze upa am and again. He saw the men who
sought to at out- the flames and drench them
with water. throw up their hands and fall back-
ward, as their bodies were pierced by the bul-
lets of some Indian sharpshooters perched
in a tree. He saw Indians rush forward and
pile brush against the Windward side of the
palisade. preparatory to setting fire to it and
sweeping the whole in one red confiagration.

 

  

\

Little Tornado.

13-

 

 

  
 
 

He saw others waiting, rifle in hand, to receive
the settlers, when the moment came for them
to make that mad dash for the sheltering trees
and darkness, after their defenses became no
lon er tenable. He saw all this, and be idle!

fie rose and paced restlessly back and forth.
He might have joined the besieging arty, and
under cover of the excitement, s sin th of the
white renegades; but what was their death com-

ared with the possible loss of a chance to secure
Madeline’s escape? Furthermore, the stockade
was doomed, so that their death would not
arrest its downfall.

In that prison-house of fire all was the wild-
est confusion. Despair was fast making its
own the men who fought on in one slender
hope.

“ Remember,” cried the commandant, who
was rushing about in all parts of the inclosure,
encouraging and directing, “if Little Tornado
had been ca tured, we should have had some
sign of it. f be has made his way to the post,
he may be here at any moment with help. We
must not yield until the walls fairly crumble
about our heads.”

But at this moment the brush piled against
the palisade sent u tongues of flame which the
rising wind beat own upon the roofs of the
houses within. Then the fire-fiends took full

ion. It was useless lon er to contend
with them. The acrid smoke, t e stifling heat
the crackle and roar of the conflagrati'on, and
beyond and above all the oils of the savage
foe, struck terror to every cart.

The women and children. driven out of the
shelter that had thus far kept their manifesta-
tions of terror from their defenders, now clung
screaming about their male relatives, drivin
them frantic with a sense of their utter inabi -
ity to co with the situation. ,

Then t e men who had thus far subordinated
their individual wills to that of their appointed
leader, rebelled.

“ Must we ate hereto be roasted alive?” they
cried passionate y. “ What death can the red
devils inflict worse than what- we must en~
dure here!"

A shriek of terror went up from 8 00!?! 0’
women and children, and the scattered ran-
tically in every direction. A Nib!“ had full-
en among them; one was struck, and her
clothes were instantly in a blaze. In an agony
of fear and pain she rushed about so wilgly
that she was caught with dimcnlty and the re
finally extinguished, but not until she had been
severely burned. The shrieks and means of
this poor creature added to the demoralisatiou
of the little garrison.

“Let us go out!" they cried. “ A few may
escape, though the rest perish. We all have the
same chance to be the lucky ones. We can gain
nothing by staying hem.”

Then, seeing that he could hold them no
longer, the commandant yielded. '

“Men!” he cried, “ remember that our only
hope lies in discipline. if we reserve order,
we may save something; if we reak into con-
fusion. we shall lose everything. Our women
and children must be protected to the last ex-
tremity. By forming two lines, with them in
the middle, a few of us ma mean 0 to cut our
way through to the open p ains. on all know
where the horses are tethered to the eastward
of the hills. Make your way thither, mount.
and then try to reach the post tothe north-
ward.”

The timid Ruth had now come out in a new
character. She was the most self-possessed of
the women who were not hardy enough to take
active part in the defense.

“My darling,” said her father, tenderly, “ I
must lead my men, but I cannot let you away
from my side. We go out first. You will be be-
tween me and Jonas Dawson. Whatever hap~
pens, keep close to us, so that we can protect
you to the best of our ability.”

“ Do not fear for me, dear father,” she re«
plied, tremulously, yet with heroic fortitude.

‘ Let me kiss you before we go out. It may be
for the last time.”

He put his arm about her, and stroked her
yellow hair. He was thinking of her mother
inst then—the wife of his youn manhood, who

ay Within sound of the peacefu‘i village church-
bells, in far New England.

“Are you all ready 1" he asked, when the line
was formed and waiting.

“ Ready !" came the re use.

“ Then open the sally-port. And may God
shelter us with his hand!”

The sally- rt was thrown open. The com-
mandant an Jonas Dawson were the first out,
closely followed by Ruth. Urged to expedition
by the flames, others poured forth.

 

Then there was was a burst of blood-curdling
yells, and a terrific combat.

How it hap ned Ruth never clearly knew.
The Indians airly swarmed about them. She
saw her father knocked senseless; then she was
grasped by the wrist and hurried t0ward the
gulch down which they had arranged to go.

At first her only consciousness was that she
was not in the hands of a savage; but a tongue
of flame leaping up showed her the not less dis-
tasteful person of Senor Ramirez.

The Indians Were rushing thither from every
quarter. The fall of their leader and the num-
bers of their foes daunted the settlers: and
dragging the commandant with them, they hur-
ried back into the stockade.

It was a move of unreasoning fear—the re-
treat from immediate death to a more terrible
one than even the tomahawk and scalping-knife
of the savages. They stood amid the whirling
smoke and flames of their crumbling defenses,
and no one could say what was to be done
next.

And yet this was the salvation of many of
their lives. Five minutes in a hand-to-hand
struggle with their enemies would have seen
them annihilated. They had not waited five
minutes in that despair which made strong men
sit down and bow their heads into their hands
and weep, when a wild about swept the len.
causing all to leap to their feet with a thrill of
delirious hope, veined with agonizing doubt.

Could it be help from the post at last?

“ Hush! hush!’ cried Jonas Dawson, the black-
smith and wheelwright, who, after deeds of
valor that would have shamed the heroes of an-
cient fable, had at last succumbed to what
seemed an inevitable fate; and be extended his
hands over the people to quiet their wailings of
des air.

en women stilled their children, and push-
ed back their tear-damped hair to listen with
bated breath.

Yes! yes! it was come at last! Far above the
roar of the conflagration rose the rattle of fire-
arms and the yells of combatants in fierce en-
counter. It could be none other than the so!-
diers whom Little Tornado had brought after a
ride without parallel.

“Out, of t is raging hell!” cried the black-
smith, dasbing open the sally-port. “We may
yet be in time to git a crack at them imps 0’ Sa-
tan! No quarter to the red devils; but take
them black hearted varlets o’ renegades alive, if
Nothin’ short 0’ hangin’ will do fur

Once more they streamed through the sally-
port; but this time there was no one to receive
them. The Indians were in full retreat, hotly
pressed b the soldierv.

Under be lead of Jonas Dawson, the settlers
ran at the top of their speed to the horses teth-
ered on the plains, that they might join in the
chase. The were late, but they were terrible
in their imp acable ra e. Many kept on, slaving
all. that they overtoo , lon after the soldiers
drew off from the chase. hey were exacting
revenge for their desolated fields.

But disappointment awaited them in one re-
spect. They saw nothing of the renegades nor
of their captives.

Of course Little Tornado knew nothing as yet
of the calamity that had befallen his sweet-
heart; but as soon as he had satisfied himself
that Madeline was not among the flying sav~
ages, be abandoned the ursuit, turnin back
to ascertain whether Old uncomb had 9 ected
her rescue.

Dashing up to the group of women and chil-
dren who, just beyond the range of heat, were
sadly watching the structure which, having
sheltered them so well, was now a crumbling
ruin. he leaped to the ground, crying:

“ Where is Madeline?”

But before they could answer him, the fact
that another was not the first to receive him
struck a chill to his heart. and he added:

“ Ruth! Where is Ruth?”

.When _he knew the worst—and it was told
him by his mother, who clung about him min-
gling her thanksgivings to God for his merciful
sparing of her brave boy with her distress over
t e uncertainty which yet hung about the fate
of her daughter—he staggered under the blow.

“ Gone! gone 2” he cried, “ and I alone to
follow them! Not a word—not a sign from Old
Buncomb?"

Then, heart-sick, he put his weeping mother
away; and directing. the women to gather
torches, he set out in search of a fresh horse
and to get some of the soldiers toreturn and
enter upon a systematic search for the trail of
the abductors.

It was really a hopeless task to be undertaken

I

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'1'...,'.“..‘_->_é_~_£;';il.~.fl‘ elects-asst M: .hfmsm‘ {tam-C...   . r .>  .2. ‘~ I .

 

before the morning light; but he could not en-
dure to remain in idleness, knowing that every
moment was hearing his loved ones further and.
further away.

 

CHAPTER XI.
WILD men‘s PROPOSAL.

SENOB RAMIREZ was triumphant. Fortune—
had played into his hands better than he could
have asked.

“Now, my pretty one!” he cried, thrusting,
his face close into that of terrified little Ruth,
and grinning with ferocious exultation, as be
dragged her along, “now we will see who is-
master! You would have me—me .! Senor
Ramirez!"—and he swelled like a turkey-cock
with importance—“ducked in a horse-trough..
would out Well, you shall give me a kiss for
every rop of water in that hath, my dear!”

And again he grinned in her face, that gri-
mace of the round eyes and glittering teeth, so
that she thought that he was about to put his.
threat into instant execution.

“ Never, you wretch l” she exclaimed, avert-
ing her own face and striking his with her open
palm.

Ramirez lau hed like a jackal.

“ C'arambafnot now i” he cried. “ This no-
time or place f0r love-making—more’s the pity:
forI am impatient to begin, I promise you!
But before morning we shall be in a cOsey re»
treat, with the birds caroling our hymeneal
hymn.”

Shuddering at his fiendish humor, poor Ruth
was hurried through groups of savages, who
leered at her with covetous greed. Everything
she saw caused a chill of horror to thrill through
her, until she was dragged into the group where
Madeline was held a prisoner.

At sight of her friend’s suifering, every gen--
erous impulse in Madeline’s bosom was stirred.

She leaped to her feet with eyes that biased
while they were suflused with tears at the
thought that this sensitive nature was to be ex-
posed to the ordeal that had nearly broken her
prouder spirit.

“ You infamous villain!” she cried, snatching:
her friend from Ramirez.

But then grief overcame her, as Ruth sunk
sobbing upon her breast; and she murmured,.

brokeuly:

“Oh, you poor dear! To think that you

mi htno bekeptoutcfthatmOnster’sclutches!”

ut the generous heart of the Commandant’s
pretty child Would not be confined to her own
miser .

“O , Maddie! Maddie!” she sobbed, clinging
to her friend. “ I am so del' hted to have you
in my arms once more! Wea imagined every--
thing terrible as having happened to you! And
here you are, alive and well, at least! How-
can I be sumciently thankful! Even for my-
self, I am not nearly so frightened as I was.
But "—and she low her voice to a whisper,
with her lips close to her friend’s ear—“ haven’t—
you seen Mr. Bunker!”

“ Mr. Bunker?” whispered Madeline in return,
starting and beginning to tremble in every
nerve. “No! no! Where is be?”

“He left the stockade hours ago—just after
dark, and Sidney with him.”

“ Mr. Bunker and Sidney left the stockade!‘
But how, and for what?"

“Sidney went forhelp to the post; but Mr.
Bunker came out to save you. Oh, Maddie,
lyou darling! he loves youl—you will never

n0w h0w much! He nearly went crazy when.
hg fpund that you had not reached the stock-
a e.

“Hush! hush!” cried Madeline, putting her
hand over her friend’s mouth, and even trying
to thrust her out of her arms.

Every veStige of blood had fled her cheeks-
and lips. Her eyes flashed: she panted and
trembled and seemed to shrink as if afraid.

Ramirez had gone in quest of Colorado Steve.
Now that he had the one thing for which he
had invested the glen, aside from his natural
lust for revenge, he was anxious to put her in a
place of security.

Not fearing that the save es would under-
stand her, Ruth had aIIOWed er voice to swell
into a murmur as she told of Old Buncomb’s
love.

And that fortunate gentleman stood so near
that he caught enough to understand the cause-
of Miss Fortescue’s emotion!

Ruth clung to her and persisted:

“Oh, you must let me tell you! He was so
frantic that he came near sacrificing himself
and all the rest of us. But he was grand— you
should have seen and heard himl—when he
seized your mother’s wrist and cried:—-‘I will
fetch your daughter back to you!’ Then ha

 

 

 

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Little Tornado.

~-_~_ A. .._..~_a -_«

 

 

v

threw open the gate and rushed out into the
‘very teeth of the Indians! And, oh, Maddie!
but for Sidney, he would have been captured
and no doubt tortured by that villainous Col-
orado Steve! Sidney saved him and all of .us!"

By this time Madeline was hugging and kiss-
ing her friend with sobs of delight that for the
time banished all sense of her present situation.

And Old Buncomb was—“ taking it all in!”
Meanwhile Senor Ramirez had found his

partner.

“ Look you, Senor Estevan !” he said. “ We
have the beautiful senoritas. Is it not so?”

“ Waal, I sw’ar!” cried the literal Steve.
“ Do you have to ask me, when you have jest
seen ’em with your own eyes?”

“ Good !” replied Ramirez. “ You saw me
capfiure the commandant’s sunny-haired daugh-
ter

“ The towhead? Yaas!” assented the uncom-
promising admirer of black-eyed “ Wenuses.”

“ Did you notice anything strange at that ren-
counter?”

“ Come! come! I ain’t a-guessin’ o’ conun-
drums so much as I used to was! What in
Cain air ye tryin’ to git though ye, anyhow ?”

“Did not ye notice thet neither this Senor
Bunkero nor the rattle-bead of a boy was among
those who came through the sally-port?"

“ Waal, I suppose they was inside, alon of a
lot more. There didn’t buta handful git out.
But what 0’ that?”

“Ah! but would not they have been of that
handful, if they had been in there to come out?”

Colorado Steve uttered an oath, as he always
did when his more subtle partner arrested his
attention by reasoning out something which
had escaped his sloWer brain.

“ Moreover,” pursued Ramirez, “the boy is in
love with the commandant’s daughter. Curse
him! I will yet drink his heart’s blood!”

“Stow our Greasm‘ nonsense!” cried Steve,
impatient y, “and give us what you make of
all 0’ this!”

“Well, if the boy had been in the stockade
when the fair Ruth was dragged away, he
would not have been content to remain shut up
in that burning trap without making an attempt
to rescue her. Therefore he was not within.”

“But whar in thunder was he then?”

“ Suppose he and the Senor Bunkero came
out through the sally-port while yet it was dark,
and rode to the t to the northward?”

Once more Co orado Steve swore.

“ Look you !” said his partner. “ The stock-
ade will not hold a livin men more than ten or
fifteen minutes longer. be will he forced to
make another sortie. But t e Indians are here
to receive them, and not a man will escape.
Why, then should we wait? The soldiers may
be'here at any moment; and then it will be too
late for us to hope to get the ladies away. ' One
scream will betray us."

“Curse ’em! we kin slit their gullets ef they
go to squeakin’ !”

“True. But if you like yours so, you will
ardon me if I prefer mine with the blood in
or veins !”

“Waal, I suppose it won’t do no hurt to be

ready‘ to git, ef We’re druv to it.”

And Colorado Steve, who was ready enough
of action when he had determined upon it,
dashed off in the direction of the prisoners.

It was lucky for him that he did so without
more delay; or he had scarcely reached them
when he heard the thud of the soldiers’ horses’
hoofs.

Then came their fierce yell as they charged
the savages.

“ Hyarl Fetch them bosses!
iy l” cried Colorado Steve.

And for a moment all was wild confusion and
hurry.

Now was the time to try Old Buncomb’s
nerve! Here was help just at hand. If he lost
this opportunity, when would another present
itself?

A man of less thorough self-command might
have cried out to the girls torun, and then have
drawn his revolvers and fought the Outcasts
and their savage allies single—handed, to cover
their retreat.

:lBY’Jt what would have been the probable re-
an 1:

They were women, untrained to meet a sud-
den emergency with that iron presence of mind
which nothing can distract. They were un-
warned of his presence. During their captivity
neither had given a thought to planning an es-
cape or seizin upon any opportunity which
in ht offer. he most important point—that
Ol Buncomb was disguised as an Indian— Ruth
had forgotten to mention, in her interest in the
roman c side of the affair; so Madeline, who

Lively !—live-

 

was most self-possessed, would not be prepared
to have one bearing the semblance of a savage
speak to her of esca . Even when they com-
prehended, to have t 9 hope of liberation thrust
upon them so abruptly would throw them into
confusion; and they would be as apt to run in
the wrong direction as in the right. Their
natural instinct would be to keep together; and
in the effort at mutual protection invaluable
time would be lost.

Then there was another and more terrible
consideration. Seeing them likely to escape,
the savages might stop their flight with a whiz-
ziug tomahawk or a keen-pointed knife.

No; he could not take this fearful risk. He
must wait. When they were mounted and in
rapid motion on the o n plain and in the dark-
ness, then they won! be more evenl matched
against their captors, if an opportunity offered
to fly. Then the fleet powers of the animal
which his foresight had secured for Madeline
would tell. It was natural that his first thought
should be for Madeline; but he had the gener-
osity to manage so that Ruth was mounted on
the horse that he had selected for himself.

All the chances of the situation flashed through
his mind like lightning; and he was the most
prompt and the most active of those who second-
ed Colorado Steve‘s efforts. So much so, in-
deed, that Steve noticed him, and speaking in
Apache, said:

“ You not as if you had some snap to you.
Ride close behind me with this spit-fire,”-—in-
dicating Wild Zeph—~“ and if she tries to come
anygf her fancy dodges, put your knife into
her!

“Good!” grunted Old Buncomb in true In-
dian fashion.

And lifting the half-breed in his arms, he put
her on the horse assigned to her. In order
that she might retain her seat. it was necessar
to unbind her hands. While she was busy wit
her, she bent quickly so as to bring her lips
close to his ear, and electrifiedhim by whisper,
ing:

“ I know you! I recognized your voice. You
see I have not betrayed you. Why? I want
my revenge, and you can help‘ me to it, while
serving yourself. Give me a nife—you have
two of them. I will help you to escape with
the women you have come to save. Why, when
I hate one of them so? Because I hunger and
thirst for my revenge more than I long to see
her suffer! Give me a knife, I say!”

ld Buncomb was as onished by her keenness
of observation. It was true that he had two
knives—his Own and the one he had taken from
the save e to whom he owed his disguise.

“ Wait ” he said. “If you are really faith-
ful to me, I will know when your opportunity
comes.”

She seemed content with that, perhaps be-
cause she felt confidence in his judgment.

Then they rode out through the hills to the

' open plain, to the westward, while the soldiers

were chasing the savages through the blacken-
ed glen toward the southern pass, into which
Little Tornado had dashed to warn them of
the peril that followed at his heels.

 

CHAPTER XII.
'rns HALF-BREED'S asvnses.

SENOR RAMIREZ :ode in advance, on Ruth’s
right; Colorado Steve rode next, but on the left
hand of his lady.

So much was accidental. But Old Buncomb
took his position deliberately. determined by
the position of those in advance. He placed
himself on Wild Zeph’s right.

This brou ht him on the same side with Senor
Ramirez, With Madeline between them; while
Wild Zeph was directly behind Colorado
Steve.

The Indians, now increased in number to a
dozen or fifteen by those whom Steve -had
brou ht with him, surrounded them like a body-
guar .

In this order they dashed out upon the lain,
the positions of the six remaining relative y the
same, though the savages shifted somewhat.
Now they were a little further forward, now a
little further back.

Old Buncomb waited for a time when none
of them should be behind him, so that his act
would be detected. Then he thrust a knife into
Wild Zeph’s hand. '

The half-breed clutched it with the avidity of

a drownin wretch fastenin his death-grip on
a rope. hen she spurred or horse forward
with its int; and the next instant buried it to

the hilt a Colorado Steve’s back!

I

,‘_ I; :- _,   *yv 9-, .i 11.?“ .0" '5
s4; -.' 1.1‘?“s-.usz‘u“z.*n"!g$¢w a: [11.23 "

 

“Die, you accursed traitor!” she shrieked, so
as to draw all eyes upon her, and leave not a
doubt as to what had been done and who had
done it.

Her aim had been deadly. She had lanted
the weapon just below the shoulder-b ade, to
the left of the spine. Its point must have
reached Colorado Steve’s evil heart.

He threw up his hands with a blood-curdling
gasp which told of almost instant death. He
only looked over his shoulder with a stare of
horror; possibl y recognized his slayer; and then
fell backward between his horse and that ridden
by Madeline.

But while his fast-glazing eyes were upon
her, Wild Zeph spat in his face, so fierce was
her bitter resentment of the insults he had heap-
ed upon her by courting her rival in her pre-
sence. Then while he was falling away from
her she struck it with her open palm.

But she was not yet done, and it was lucky
that Old Buncomb had not trusted fully to her

ood faith.‘ He had his eye upon her, on the
ookout for some act of treachery. It was not
in Indian nature to forego her resentment to-
ward Madeline.

What he feared—what he had to take the
risk of for the sake of an advantage which he
hoped togain by her assault upon Steve—fol-
lowed instantly upon her successful disposal of
the first object of her hatred.

Unable to reach Madeline across Colorado
Steve’s horse, Old Buncomb saw the mad crea-
ture throw back her hand preparatory to hurl-
ing her knife at Madeline, with the deadly
accuracy which makes the bowie in skillful
hands as fatal a weapon at a few paces distance
as in close combat.

But he was ready for her; and as loth as he
was to wound her, a woman, Madeline’s preser-
vation demanded that he shoot at her hand,
even while he spurred his horse forward be-
tween Madeline and Colorado Steve, riding
directly over the latter as he fell.

The bullet sped straight to its mark, piercing
the back of her hand. As the knife fell from
her grasp behind her, she uttered a scream of
sava e hate and pain. If she could have got at
Old uncomb, she would have torn him with
her nails. . ‘

But self-preservation is not the last thing that
even a jealous Indian beauty thinks of; and,
accepting the defeat of that part of her revenge
she reined her horse to the left and plunged
into the darkness.

“ After her! after her!” cried Old Buncomb,
in the Apache tongue. “ The Jezebel has slain
our white chief. Take her alive for tor-
ture!"

It was not wanton cruelty that prompted this
suggestion; but if she was shot, there would be
nothing to take the savages. away from the
spot, while what he needed. in order to make
sure of his escape with the girls, was the excite-
ment of a chase, when there would be no one to
observe him too CIOSely.

Senor Ramirez unwittingly aided his plan;
for enraged at the thought of losing the part-
ner who was so useful to him—and all for the
whim of a woman—he, too, urged the savages

on.

Forgetful of their prisoners, or thinking that
Senor Ramirez could manage them alone, they
dashed after Wild Zeph in a body.

The next instant Senor Ramirez was as-
tonished to find himself seized by the throat
and dragged over the withers of Old Buncom b’s
horse, while that supposed Indian still called
after the pursuers in their own tongue, urgin
them not to let the fugitive escape if they bag
to Chase her into the Gulf of Mexico.

Ramirez would have cried out for help, but
he found himself in the grip of a giant in
strength. In spite of his wildest struggles to at
least slip off the horse’s back, he was held fast;
while the grip on his throat seemed to grow
tighter and tighter until his eyes protruded
from their Sockets, the veins in his face swelled
almost to bursting, his ears rung and his brain
reeled. Still that remorseless grip did not
relax, until he hung limp and insensible across
the lap of his captor.

Meanwhile Old Buncomb had not held his own
tongue because _he found is advantageous to
hold Senor Ramirtz’s throat.

“ Madelinet—Ruthl—it is I! Do you recognize
me?——Old Buncnmb! About face for the glen;
and don’t spare horse-flesh !”

A sharp‘ cry, almost instantly suppressed,
escaped Ruth; but Madeline, though she was
thrilled to her heart’s center, only said, in a low

tone:
“Oh, Mr. Bunker!”
The next instant she had wheeled into line

 

 

 

 

   
 

 

 

Little Tornado.

15

 

 

with him, and had reached out and put her
hand on his arm, while she leaned forward so
as to bring her face near enough to see him in
the darkness.

Ruth was on the other side, with her face
turned toward the savages.

Old Buncomb leaned toward Madeline, so as
to meet her half-way, which brought their faces
within a foot of each other.

“Ruth has told you,” he said, with a fine
vibration in his voice. “ Is it all right!”

“ Yes!” she answered, her own voice thrilling
with a passion at that moment intensified by
gratitude and the flood of emotion that came
with the new sense of freedom and the know-
ledge that she owed it to him from whom it was
a delight to take life and love and all! “Oh,
Hugh!”
kHei laughed a low, happy laugh; and then

e .

H May I?”
The longing of her own heart told her what
he meant; and she answered:

“ If you can!”

‘5 Can i” he cried, with a great swelling of the
heart. “ I can do anything that leads me to
you. my darling! my love! my joy!"

And watching for a time when their horses
were in step, he cried:

" Hold still—now!”

And their lips met in a kiss as sweet as it was

88

short.

“ Well, I declare i” cried Ruth, looking round
in time to catch them at this pretty folly. “ If
that isn’t what I call love-making under difli—
culties.”

“ Don’t be envious, Ruth,” laughed Old Bun-
comb. “ Who has been setting us the example
all summer, I’d like to know?‘

“Not I—it that’s what you mean to insin-
sate.”

“Oh. oh!” cried Old Buncomb, in a tone
which implied that that was a “ whop r."

Then he laughed again, notwithstanding the
fact that at this moment the savages discov-
ered that the prisoners were making for the
glen at top speed.

In the darkness they could not make out
whether they were accompanied by Senor Ram-
irez or not, and thinking that erhaps one of
the girls had succeeded as wel with him as
Wild Zeph had with his partner, and having a
wholesome fear of the soldiers, they desisted
from their pursuit of Wild Zeph, thereby allot"-
ing her to escape, and turned toward the moun-
tains to seeksafety for themselves. '

When Old Buncomb neared the glen he told
the girls to ride ahead, and to say'nothing
about his prisoner. Not knowing what this sig-
\ified, they obeyed him implicitly.

They found the commandant recovered from
the stunning blow he had received on the head,
and bemoaning the loss of his daughter, while
Little Tornado was just completing the prepa-
rations for going in search of their trail. The
soldiers had returned from the running fight,
and the settlers were drop ing in one by one.

In spite of the general)le of life as well as
property, the happy reunion of the families
with which we have been most nearl interest-
ed was shared by all; for Ruth an Madeline
were the pride of the glen. And when it was
found that the chaplain of the post had accom-
panied the Boys in Blue; and Old Buri-
comb, having removed the stains from his face.
and Provmg ‘30 beavery comely man of not
more than thirty, urged the need of Madeline
and her mother to all the assistance thev could
get to re establish their fallen fortunes—then no
one denied the propri t of a quiet wedding,
with Ruth and Little arnado for bridemaid
and best man.

Little Tornado looked very rueful and Ruth
very shame-faced, when it was suggested that
they would have to wait until they were old
enough to grace a happier occasion.

The soldiers took their departure, romising
to bring assistance to the destitute sett ers in the
morning.

Then Old Buncomb quietly drew the male
' ortion of the settlers aside; and among the

ills they went through a very different cere-
niony, in which Senor Ramirez was the central
figure.

As the ca tain of the post knew nothing
about this 0 daily, he had carefully complied
with the mysterious request not to ask ques-

tionsl—he was not responsible, if the most regu-
lar forms of law were disregarded.

But there—as here—was an end to the Out-
cast of the Glen!

mm.

 

'Beadle’s Haflme library.

BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID.

78 Blue lflok - or, The Yellow Chief’s Vengeanre.

37 The LIINl l’iraten- or, The League oi Devil's island.
13? The Helplen Hund: or. Backwoods Retribution.
989 'l he Gold-seeker Guide: or, The Lost Mountain.

BY GEORGE C. JENKS.

485 Git Thur Owney the Unknown.
492 Git Thar Ownoy'a Pledge.
518 The Demon Doctor.

BY WM. G. PATTEN.

489 The Diamond Sport: or, The Double Face oiBed Rock
519 Ca lulu Mystery; or, Five in One.
531 Du any “are the Sport from Denver.

B Y B R ACEBRIDGE HEMYNG.

89 lll.nd Jlm: or, The Pet of the Family.
91 The Captain ofthe Club: or. The Rival Athletes.
101 Jack llarkaway in New York.

BY MAJOR LEVI'IS “3 CARSON.

27S The Three Trapper-z or, The Mountain Monster.
888 Indian Joe: or, The White Spirit of the Hills.

BY LIEITT. H. D. PERRY. U. S. N.

1?6 The Boy Runaway: or. The Buc-‘aiieer oithe Bay.
INO The sea 'l_‘rullerz or, A Vow “'ell Kept.
199 Captain kit: or, The hiyntery oi Montuuk Point.

BY HARRY HAZARD.

838 Arkansaw Jack: or. The Scourze of the Mines.
‘29 Red-skin Ton-i or. The Demon’s 'l rail.
842 The Mountain )evll; or, Yellow lack, the Outlaw.

BY COL. A. I". HOLT.

399 Black Buck-kin or. The Masked M i’ .
419 Kenneth, the Killfg-Klilfl. an o DO‘m c.nm
435 Little Lighti'oot. the Pilot of the “'uodl.

B Y FRAN K DUMON T.

130 The Branded "and: or, The Man of Mystery.

122 gllld.}i;llre. the 110.39}: of: Road. ‘

l 0 no lien; or, e reek 0’ Da - Bo ' {Ro k Bal.
171 Rho“ Dan 3 or, The Rival Leagues.3 H o t y
[35 Eva ye; or, The. Vultures of the Rio Grande.

BY W. J. HAMILTON.

68 The Red Brotherhood: or. The Twelve Avengers.
86 Sin lo “and; or, A Life for a Life.
79 Mud Tom “'eatern, the Turin Ranger.

883' lion Bird. the Cave Kins; or. Big Pete's Scoop.

BY J. ‘1'. OSBON.

469 The Rival Giant-I oi’Nowhar’.

98 (‘aotnn Burr. the Mnn iroiii Hard Luck.
58’? Old Burke 1-. the Sierra Shadow.
564 Powder 1’ II, the Boy Miner.

BY HARRY ST. GEORGE.

BO Roaring Rnl h Rookwood, the Ranger.

44 Ruttlln Ru no: or. The Nightlian of Kentucky.
(,9 01d |||(. vory; or. l’aiid)‘ l-Illis‘s Nal ).
108 During Davy: 0'. Th? 'l'mil ril'the llorder Wolf.
166 lilokory "a" g or, The 'l’ra per-lirigade’l Spy.
172 Thunderbolt oiui tr, the 'oii'-Herdar_

BY MAJOR E. L. 8T. YRAIN.

992 Sancho Pedro the Boy Bllnillii.

301 LofldVillt‘ N10 ', the lioy Sport,

812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince.

“#8 Brimstone Bob. and His Lightning Horse Qu
852 ’l'oinln-tone Tom. the Arizona Boy oi “Sand”!
8.39 IDiii-uiurn Inn v. ll'i' \’ nu: I ‘Jmmi i- ll \\ nastier.
871 Kingholt Chris, the Young Hard-Shell Detective.
880 Avalanche Ali'. the Foothills Guide.

890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountain Mail-Line.

BY EDWARD S. ELLIS.

6 Bill rilddon, Trap er.
8 big-fl. June.” or, ’1‘ q- Captives ofnio Frontier.

IO Nut Todd: or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive.

21 The, Frontier Angel.

98 The iiny Miners: or. The Enchanted island.
182 The Hunted Hunter; or. The Strauss Hm!!!“-
354 lhe Half-Blood: or, The i’nnthei- m the Plains.
.71 ’l he Huge Hunter; or, The Steam Prairie Man.

BY ROGER STARBUCK.

25 The Bov (‘a tuning or,Tlie Pirate’s Daughter.
“.4  “lack srhiioner: or. Jib .luiik. the Old Tar.
"’9 [he Golden liar oon: or. Lost Among the Floss.
‘4'" “re-"eel: or. o «l Skinflint. u..- Death-Shadow.
8M Bl: Horn 1 e. the lliil Tramp; or,Tlie Odd Pards.
'01 The Phantom Light-house.
370 Breaker lien, the Reef-Runner.

BY GEORGE “'AI.DO BRO“'NE.

8“ Band Rock the Man from Texas.
90 line rend Rider: or, The 'l'exaii Duelist.

99 The Tiger ofTumi; or. Dandy Rm-k‘s Angel.
115 The Mad Miner: or, Dandy Rock's Doom.
131 The Golden “null: or. Dnndr Rock to the Rescue.
‘64 Dandy Rock’s Pledge: or, Huan to Death.
173 Dandy Rock’s Rival: or. The Haunted Maid oi'l'uis.

BY CAPTAIN FRED. “'HITTAKER.

The lea-Cat: or. The Witch 0! Onion.

The Dumb 1’. e or. The Doge’o Daughter.

Dick Darling. t el’ony Express Rider-

1 ( Lance and Lnaao: or, The (‘hildren of the Chico-

154 The fiwurd Ilunteru; or, The Land nfthe Ele heat Riders.

159 Eh“ llal‘lthCIptlin: or, Skipper Jsbes Cofliu’s mil. '0th
en u ur . on.

.00 T310 Boy Bedouin-i or. The Broilers oi the Pinned Lance.

214 Vi olfgang. the Rubber or the Rhine.

'49 av“: Router. the Animal King; or, The Round the World

In 8781’. ‘

.65 The Ti r Tamer or. The League of the Jungle.

“1 Black Ink. the Deir‘ion Rider.

"5 California Joe‘s War Trail.

8353

a

 

BY ED \" A R D “'1 LLETT.

167 Alli Scott, the Steamboat Boy.

199 Featherweight the Boy Ciminplon ol'the Muskingum.
228 Ozark All" ur, Fenllierweiglil Among the Outlaws.

2112 The Typo Detectii e a or. Weasel. the Boy Tramp.
295 Fearless l’lill; or. The King oi Qillll’llvlllt‘.

811 The Roving Sport; or, The Pride oi ('liurknluclt Camp.
822 Nemo. the Detectivu; or, Kit Kenyon's Vendetta.
“0 Clip the Contortioniat: or. The Montana Vigilantas.

BY ALBERT 11'. AIKEL.

11 The Two Detectives: or, The Fortunes oi a Bowery Girl.
73 Abe Colt. the Crow-Killer.
79 Sol Ginger, the Giant 'lni per.
288 Joe Buok oi'Angeln unil His Buy Ford.
447 New York hat. A Tale oi'Tricks and Traps in Gotham
458 New En lund Nick; or. The Fortunes oi a Foundilux.
464 Nimble . 'ii-k, the Circus Prince.
493 'l'uoa Tod, tune Arisonn Sport.
511! Cool Colorado, the Hull-Breed Detective.
515 Cool Colorado in New York.

BY CAPT. J. F. C. ADADIS.

84 Oregon Sol; or, Nick “'hiiiles‘u Boy Spy,

46 Glam-Ply the Great Shot oi’the “'est.

54 Veil Haze the Boy Trapper.

56 Nick “'hl 91‘. Pet; or, iii The Valley of Death,

60 The “'hite Indian: or, The Scout oi'iln- Yellowstone.

70 Old Zl 'n Cubln; or, The Greeiihorn in the Wooda.

81 Lightning Jo. the Terror oi the Prairie.

85 Buck Buekrgm; or, Bess, the Female Tm per.
247 Old Grizzly and “in Pets: or. The Wil Hunt!“
.51 Light-honor Lire; or, Osceola, the Firebrand.

.57 The Lost Hunters; or, The Underground Camp.
888 The Scalp King: or, The Human Thunderbolt.

BY JOSEPH E. BADGER. JR.

2 Yellow-tone Jnok : or, The Trap wr.

43 Black John. the Road-Agent: or. The Outlnw's Retreat.

65 Hurricane "ill: 07. )liisliiiig Sam and His Paul.
119 Mustang Senior. The King oithe Plains.
136 Nilllt-ilnwk 'it; or, The llnughier of the Ranch.
144 Dninty 1..“(‘9 the Buy Sport,
15l Panther Paul: or. Dainty Lance to the Ram...
160 The Black Giant: or, Dainty inian in anmdy,
Iii“ Deadly Dar-h; or, Fighting Fin- wiili Fire.

8-1 The Boy Trailers : or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path.
208 The Bo ' l’ardn: or. Dainty Lani-e Cninasks.
211 Crooke Cale, the ('ulihun of Celestial City.
810 The Barram-a “'oli'; or, The Beautiful Decoy.
319 The Black Rider; or. The Ilorse-Tliivvel' League.
885 Old Double Flat or. The Sir-nu Guide.
‘55 The King oi the Voodn: or Human Boone‘s Last Trail.
“9 Kit Fox. the Border Boy Detective.

BY BFCKSKIN 8AM (Major Barn. 8. Hall.)
284 OldkRoeky’a “Boyce: i” or, Benito, the Young Horse- ~

FBI or.
246 Giant. George; or, The Ang‘l of the Range.
275 Arizonn Jack 3 or. Giant George's Ford.
.97 The Taruntuln oi' Tam-i or, Giant George's Revenge.
80‘? The Strange i’ard: or. iitle Ben's Dellh Hunt.
818 Ker-whoo . Ker-whoox or, The Tarantula ome.
827 Croepiinx got. the Cuddo; Or. The Red and WhiteParda.
332 Frio ‘red: or, The Tonkawny’s Trust.
844 The Fighting Trio: or. Rattlesnake. the Tonkaway.
849 \Yild “ 011': or, Big~Fooi “'allace to the Front.
857 The Ranch Raiders or, The Siege of Fort Purgatory.
864 Snap-Shot, the Boy anger.
375 Chiotu. the Creek; or, The Three Thunderbolts.
881 Ilandera lull: or. Frio Frank to the Front.
892 Romeo and the Rede or, The Beleaguered Ranch.
404 Little Lnrlutz or. i’rrnu Pete‘s B g Rampage.
414 The Dali-y from Denver.
4%? The Three Trailer-i: or, Old Rocky on the Rampage.
44: Bluii’ Bill: or, The Lynx of the Leona.
455 Little Lone Star: or, The Belle of the Ciholo.

Ml SCELLAN EOUS AUTHORS.

4 The “'ild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Bald and
Frederick “'hiillker.
9 Adventure!- of Baron Munch-Illicit.
12 Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Mun.
14 Aladdin; or. The “'oiideri'ul Lamp.
18 Robinson Crusoe. (‘21 illustrations.)
lili flindhnd the Euilor. His Seven Voyages.
22 The Sea Serpent: or, The Boy Rob neon Crusoe. By Juan

Lewis.

88 The Ocean Bloodhound: or, The Red Pirates of the
,arrlhw's. Bi . . W. Pierce.

86 The Boy Clown; or, The Queen of the Arena. By Frank

S. Finn.
8“ Ned \"ylde. the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack.
51 The Boy Rifles; or, The Underground Camp. By Archie

(“. irons.
95 The Rival “oven: or, The Freebooters oi the Mississippi.
By l.leiil.-(‘nl. linzeltlue.
98 Robin flood, the Uuilawed Earl; or,Tlie Merry Men of Green-
wood. By l‘rol’. Gildersleeve. °
105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Cnntive. By Captain
Hniiillton Holmes.
112 The Mad Hunter: or. The Cave of Death. By Burton Saxo-
1’4 TIMI]. the 'l'exnnz or, The Young Champion. By George
I OPN'H.
128 The Young Privateer: or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By
Harry Cavendish.
1491 Bhnrp Dam: or, The Adventures oin Friendleas Boy. By J:
Alexander Patten.
as? Dusky Darrell. Tn per: or, The Green Ranger of the Yel-
lowstone. By Edward inernon.
261 Fergus Fear-naught the New Ylfk Boy. By George].
en.
.68 Klilh‘ar. the Guide; ~r,Davy Crockeii's Crooked Trail.
By Ensign C. D. “'arren.
.98 Red Claw. the One-Ered Trapper: or, The Maid of the CHI.
By Captain Cometock.
817 l’eaoook Pete. the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Lieu-
tenant Alireri Thorne.
8’8 The Sky De‘N-ilve: or, A Boy": Fight for Lile and Home.
B Maior Mickey Free.
850 Ryed Ralph. the River Rover: or, The Brother’- Ro-
e. By Ned Run tllne.
By A. P Monk.

veng
865 Baltimore Ben the Booi'nhu-k Detective. .
.74 GoldJlun, Ton; or, Ben’s Double Hatch. By George II.

nrse.

876 California Joe’a First Trail. By Colonel The--
418 nii‘i"ii“""t’.ii. ll l cmrcn h B ii 5 on».

Yam e to ,mer. y..'
no The Black sin ’. ii. John s. amer. m

Comanche Die and lil- Three Invineihioa. 9)

sea nil"iaTl""‘”’.. n. a s n n Arth r non.

I. - rm 9 ll . ur .
us The Cowl... ’im... 5, EM. Byron. Forrest.
“2 Arie-l the At late. By David Druid.

A New Issue Every Tuesday-
The Half- Dime Library is for sale by all uewsdealers, five
all“ P" WPD'. 0r sent by mail on receipt of six cents each.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
98 “Milan Street, New York._

 

    

 

 

 
 
  
  
 
 
 
   
 
    
 
  
  

 

BY ED‘VARD L. \VIIEELER.

Deadwood Diek Novels.

1 Deadwood Dick, the Prime of the Road.
20 [Double Daggerai or, Deadwood Dick’s Defiance.
28 Buffalo lien; or. )cadwumi Dick in Diaguiae.
35 111111 Ivan. the Boy Claude Duval.
42 I’hantom Miner; or, Deadwood llil-k's Bananas.
49 Omaha Oil; or Deadwood Dirk in Danger.
5f Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar.
78 Deadwood Dick on Deck: or. t‘ulamitv June,ths llaroine.
77 Corduroy Charlie; or, ilemlwcnd Dick's Last Act.
100 Deadwood Dick In Lead ville.
104 Deadwood Dick‘s Device: or, The Double Cross Sign.
109 Deadwood Dick aa Detective.
129 Deadwood Dick‘s Double: or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s

(vulch.

188 Blunde Bill! or, Deadwood Dick‘s Home Base.
9 A Game. of (sold: or. Deadwood Dir-k’I Bit: Strike.

156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood or, The Picked Part .
195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, he Rivwis of the Ron .
201 The Black Hills Jezebel; or, Deadwood Dick's Ward.
205 Deadwood Dick's Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last Ad-

venture.
217 Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brl d.
221 Sn ar-Coated Sam: or, The Blac Gown.
282 Go d-Dunt Dick. A Rmnanre of Rough; and Toughs.
268 Deadwood Dick's Divide or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake.
268 Deadwood Dick's Death rail.
809 Deadwood Dick's Big Deal; or, The Gold Brick oi

l'egon.
821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen ; or. The Fakir ofPhantom Flats.
847 Deadwood Dick‘s Dneatsa 0r, Rainy Days in the Dig-

Kll‘l 'B.
851 Dehdwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta.
862 D’eadwood Dick's Claim; or, The Fairy Face of Faro
lttl.
405 Deadwood Dick In Dead City.
410 Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds; or, The Mystery of Joan

utter.
421 Deadwood Dick In New York: or, A “ Cuts Care.”
480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand.
448 Deadwood Dick, Jr.
448 Nickel-Plate Ned; u, Deadwood Dick Jr's Defiance.
458 Sunflower Sara, ol Shasta; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Full

Hand.
459 Flush Pass, the Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Round-
465 EEIlfioFly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Racket at

m s
471 Bozcman Bill; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Corral.
476 "unbbold‘t Harry, the Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s
etect Vt.
481 Moll Mystery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Deadwood.
491 Fri-Ce. Pistol, the King of the West; or, Deadwood Dick
rs omnact.

  
      
 

496 or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Inheritance.
500 ror,Dr. Death-Grip’s Swoop.
508 ’a

515 ’a

   
  
    
 
 

 
 

522

529 Ducks.

584 lln nt.

589 r., exaa.

544 J Wild West Vldocq.
549 on Mettle.

    

554 Jr Gotham.
561 is Boston.

587 Jr.. in Philadelphia.
572 Jr., In Chicago.

Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler.

26 Cloven “001’, the Bud‘an Demon.
82 Bob Woo'lfl or, The Girl Dead-Shot.
89 Death-Face, Detective: or, Life in New York.
45 Old Avalanche or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brlgud.
58 Jim Bill Illa, the Boy Phenix.
6i Buckhorn i or, The Red Rifle Team.
69 Gold Bil the Sher shooter; or. The Bo Detective.
80 Rosebud Bob or. ugget Ned, the Kn ‘1“.
84 ldyl, the Girl Inert or, Rosebud Rob on Hand.
88 Photo ra h Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reap m,
92 Gone a C et; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp.
96 Watch-E at or, Arabs and Angels oi‘a Great City.
118 Jaek Iloy e the Young Speculator.
117 all} Edged Dick, the Sport Detective
121 Cinnamon Chip the Girl Sport.
125'- Bonanza Bill. iner.
188 Bola liob the King of Boothlackl.
141 Solid Sam the Boy Road«Agent.
145 Captain erret. the New York Detective; or. loss Bob’s

Boss Job.
161 New York Nell the Boy-Girl Detective.
1r: Nobb Nick oi'Nevadat or, The Sierras Scamp;
181 Wild rank, the Buckskin Bravo.
209 Fritz, ths Bound-Boy Detective.
218 Fritz to the Front: or, The Ventflerniat Hunter.
226 Snoozer the Buy Sharp: or, The Arab emtlvd.
286 Apollo ill", the Trail Tornado.
240 (‘yclone Kit, the Young Gladiator.
244 ‘ erra Sans, tho Fronth Ferret.
248 S-‘erra Sara's Secret: or The Bloody Footprints.
253 S-‘erra Sam’a l’ardt or. The Angel oi Big Vista.
258 ii erra Sam's fleven; or, The Stolen Bride.
276 Jumbo Joe the lioy Patrol; or, Tile Rival Heir-a.
277 Denver Dofl. the Detective Queen.
281 Denver Doll‘a Victory.
235 Denver Doll’s Decoy t or. Little Bill’s Bonanza.
291 Turk, the Boy Ferret.
296 Denver Doll's Driit: or. The Road Queen.
299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker.
308 ’l.lza Jane, the 'a‘lirl Minor; or. the lion-Nerved Sport.
825 Kelley, lllckev .Q (70.. the Detectives of Philadelphia.
330 Little Quirk-Shot; or, The Dead in... ofangersviile.
884 Kangaroo Kit; or. The Mysterious Miner.
889 Kan aroo Kit’a Racket.
843 Man attnn Mike, the Bowery Blood.
858 First-Class Fred, rho Gent lrnm Gopher.
863 Yreka Jim. the iiold-Gutherer; or, The Lottery of

Life.

872 Yreka Jim’s Prize.
87H Nahob Ned; or, ’1 he Secret of Slab City.
892 Cool Kit. the Kim: of Kids: or. A Villain’s Vengeance.
885 Yreka Jim's Joker; or, The Rivals ol'Roli Nose.
889 Bicycle Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode.
894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Darn.
400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective.
416 High Ilat Harry. the “Me Boll Detective.
426 liens Slabaide the Beggar-Boy Detective.
484 Jim Beak anti Pal. rlvste Detectives.
g8 Santa Fe Hal, the Slasher.

6,8ealskin Sans. the Sparklsr.

BY BUFFALO BILL (Bon. Win. 1". Cody).
Kansas King; or, The Bed Right Hand.
1; h tom 8 x or,The Pilot oithe Prairie.
y- ye. the Elnown Scout.
Border Robin lleodt or The Prairie Rover.
l‘aley Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper“. TM

7

 

  

 

 

 

BEADLE’SaIeHALF-DIMErLIBRARY.

Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents.

BY CII'A RLEB MORRIS.

118 Will Somere, the Boy Detective.
12 Phil Hardy, the Bose Boy.
126 I'Icaynne Pete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective.
180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rugs.
2 Handsome Harry, the Boothlack Detective.

“'ill Wildii re, the Thoroughbred.
lilac-I. lie-a, Will “'lidfire s Racer.
7 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy.
2 Will “’ildiire in the “'oods.
Billy ling age. the Railroad Boy.
A ’l‘rnm Card; or, Wlll Wildfire Wins and Loses.
Bob Iloc ettt or, Mysteries of New York.
Bob Ihmketti the Bank Runner.
The Hidden land or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge.
Fred Ilalyard. the Mo Boat Boy; or. The Smugglers.
liob Iiockctt; 0r. Driven to the “'uil.
196 shadowed; or, Bola Rncllett's Fight for Life.
206 Dark Paul. the Tiger King.
212 Dal-hing Dave, the Dam! ~ Detective.
220 Tom Tanner or The it nck Sheep oi the Flock.
225 Fans Chnreon the l’l’r‘lllllllll Dnrky.
285 Hiladow Earn. the Messenger Buy.
2 The Two “ lilooda "; or, Shenandoah Bill and iii. Gang.
252 Dick Daahawayt or, A Dakota Boy in (‘hica n.

62 The Young Sharpe: or, Rollicklug Millie’s lot Trail.
274 Jolly Jim. Illl' Detective Apprentice.
239 Jolly Jim’s Job; or. Thu Young Detective.
298 The “ ntcr-Ilonnd; or. The Young Thoroughbred.
805 Dashnway, oi' Dakota; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker

( lly.
824 linlph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective.
3-11 Tony Thorne, the \‘nualmmi Detective.
858 The Reporter-Detectivea or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard.
867 \T Idc-Awuke Joe: M, A lioyol‘ the Times.
879 Larry. the Leveleri or. The Bloods of the Boulevard.
408 Fire y Jack, the River-Rat inattentive.
423 The Lost Fin er: or, The Entrapped Cashier.
428 Fred Flyer, t e Reporter Detective.
482 invincible 1.0 an, the Pinkerton Ferret.
456 Billy Brick. l e Jolly Vagabond.
466 \\ Isle-A wake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive.
479 Detective Do e: or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty.
424a \\ lid Dick liac et.
50! lloota, the Boy Fireman or, Too Sharp for the Sharper.
506 The Hecret ~ervice Boy eteetive.

flflHHHH
aamoea
a &N

a»
swath:

I-II-I-IadI-Ins
111-)

a.
it

BY OLL COOMEB.

5 Vagabond Joe, the Young “'anderlng luv,
18 The Dumb iipy.
27 Antelo e Abe, the Boy Guide.
81 Keen- nlfe, the Prince of the Prairies.
4i Laaao Jack, the Young Mustanger.
58 The Border King; or, The Secret Foe.
71 Delaware Dick. 0 Young Ranger Spy.
74 Hawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper Bangor.
88 Ilollmt e 110*] an er.
184 Sure g.th flat , thr y Rifleman.
148 Sear- ace Saul. the Silent Hunter
146 Nilver Star, the Boy Knight.
158 Eagle Hit, the Boy Demon.
168 Little Texan, the Young Mustang".
176 Old Solitary, the Hermit Tra per.
189 Little Hurricane, the Bo aptaln.
202 Pro: eet Pete; or, The 'onnz Outlaw Hunters.
208 The oy Ilerenlest or, The Prairie Tramps.
218 Tiger '1 orn, the Texas Terror.
224 Dnehllw Dick: or ’l‘rnppsr Tom's Castle.
228 'Atittlc Ildflre, ti. 7...... mm. Nomad.

8 The l‘araon De tectivet or The Little Ranger.
248 The Dlaaulaed Guide: or, 'ilri Raven,the RII‘".
260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Pralrls Ranger.
272 Mink! n lke, the Boy Sharpsbooter.

290 Little oxilrc. the Boy Spy.
Th Demon : or. Rail-boll, the Ranger.
4 Whlp- 1n: Joe, the Boy Raunhern.
or, Dirk, the Boy Ranger.
Webi’oot . one. the Trump Detective.
Bab Sam, the lloy Giant ol the Yellowstone.
444 Little ll czakln. the Your“: Prairie Centaur.
457 “'lngedi’slso Fred; or. Old Polar Saul.
Tamar-ac Torn, the Big Tra per Boy.
78 Old ' ‘om Rattler the Red lver Epidemic.
82 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Troian.
562 Blunderin. Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper.

BY T. C. IIARBAUGB.

28 Nick 0’ the Night: or. Th» Boy Spy oi "It.

87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Little Hunter.

47 nghu" ale hat+ or, Tue Forest Cs tnlns.

64 Dnndv uek; or. he Outlaws of the regon Trail.
82 Kit Ilrurei'oot the WOW-Hawk.

94 Midnight Jack ; 0r, The Be Trapper.

06 Old li‘roaty, the Guide: or, T in “'blte Queen.

3 Klown Charley the White Musiangsr.

9 Jud e Lvnch, .I rd 0r. The an Vigilante.

5 Goil Trl er. the S on; or, T e Girl Avenger.

9 Tornado om; or, "Jim Jack From Red Core.

lilhl Ned Temple, the Border Boy.

19" Arknnauw; or, The Qtlwn oi Fate’s Revenge.

207 Navan Nick. the Boy Gold Hunter.

215 ('uptuln ltulict ; or. Little Tooknot’s Crusade.

23] l’lncky l’lsilt or. Roan, the Rel Jezebel.

241 Hill liravo; or, The Rough: of the Rockies.

255 (‘apialn Apoll i, the Klluerin of Bowie.

267 The Bllckakln Detective.

279 (Did Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperado".

294 Dvnamile Dan: or, The Bowie lilnde of Cochetopa.
802 T to Mountain Detective: or, The Trigger Bar Bully.
816 Did Hellpae. Truinu Curd of Arizona.

826 The Ten l’nrda: or. The Terror otTake-Notice.
886 "It: llcnaon: or, The Qlli‘l'n of the Lek-so.

845 l’ltiless Matt; 0', Red Thumlerlrolt’s Secret.

85” VIII” Slim and Far”: 0' The Terrible Six.

866 \‘el vct Foot, the lndiun Deter-live.

8H6 (‘ilptalu Cutlass: or, the li 'ccnncer's Girl Foe.
896 lion 1: Rob; or_ The I will Chmnpions of Blue Bill“-
41 1 The El lken Lat-no: or, The Rose of Ranch Robin.
419 Felix Fox. the Boy Spotter.

425 Texas ’l'rum . lllc Murder Rlllilcr.

486 I’D“ Flillll, i ll' New York FUX.

445 The City Vampire-I: or, Red Ruli‘e’s Pigeon.

46| One A ulna]. [Pinyg or, The Lust Man of Keno Bar.
470 The l oy Hlsudow: or. Felix Fox‘s Hunt.

477 The Excelsior h‘port : or, The Washington Spotter.
499 Single fli hi. the line-Eicd Sport.

Branded en, the Night Ferret.

512 lliod‘er Dick, the Wharf-S ly Detective.

521 ‘Dodzer Dick‘s Beat Do are.

529 ‘03 and Falcon, the iiowcry Shadows.

5813 3.. .u Dick, the Dock Ferret.

548 3." .u Dick’s Double: or, The Rival Boy 1304061"
558 r ‘e. Dick’s Desperate Case.

568 3.. .. Dick. lhe Boy Vidorq.

578 'i‘he'Two shadows.

HHHHH
3Q".

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Double Numbers.

BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAIIAM.

7 The Flying Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast.
17 Ralph lo , the lioy Bun-an er; or. The Fugitive Yacht.
24 Diamond Dirk Lot, The Mystery of the Yellowstone.
62 The shadow E Ip; or. The Rival Lirutcunnts.
75 The Boy "Hell-t; or, The Cruise of the Sen~Wolf.
102 "It k Dead-E e, the Boy Slnugzler.
11 The Sea-Dev l; or, The Midshipman’s Legacy.
16 The llllssar Ca tnin; or, The lionnit oi' lleli Gate.
97 Little Grit; or, lie, the Stock-Tendrr‘s Daughter.
04 Gold Plume; or, The Kid-Glove Sport
218 Iii-on “ill the Prince oi the Reina.
222 Grit. the I, ravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer.
229 (‘rimaon hate or, The Cowboy’s Triumph.
28.~ Lone Star, the owboy Ca tain.
245 Merle the Middy or, he Freelance Heir.
250 The Midshipman . utlneer; or. Brandt, the Buccaneer.
264 The Floating l‘ eathert or, Merle Monte's Treasure

island.
269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned.
276 Merle Montea Cruise; or, The Chase at “The Gold

nuns

A. l".
2’10 Merle Monte’s Fate; or. Pearl, the Pirate's Bride.
2 4 The Sea Mar-under; or, Merle Monte‘s Pledge.
257 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover o! the Rio Grandc.
804 The Dead Shot Dnndyrl or, Benito, the Boy Bugler.
808 Keno Kltt or, Dead Shot landy's Double.
814 The.l Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler's Lon;
YR .
877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover; or,'l'he Flaglss- schooner.
898 The Indian ’Ilot; or, The Search for Pirate island.
887 “'arpath “'I I, the Boy Phantom.
89 Feawali’, the Boy Lieutenant.
402 laudor, the Young Cons irator: or, The Fatal League.
407 The 0 Insurgent; or, l‘he Cuban Vendetta.
412 The I d Yacht-mun; or, The War-Cloua’s Cruise.
4 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee.
488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or. Tne Corsair.
487 The Sea Ra der.
441 The Ocean Firefly; or, A Illldlly's Vengeance.
446 Ilnphuzard llarr t or. The Scapegmce oi the Sea.
450 “’Izar‘d “'illl or. he Boy Ferret of New York.
54 “'izard “'ill’a Street Scout-t.
462 The llorn Guide t or. The Sailor Boy “'anderer.
468 Neptune Ned, the Boy-Coaster.
474 Flora: or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard.
483 Ferreta Afloat; or. Wizard Will's Last Case.
41‘? Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger.
495 Arizona Joe the Boy Part! of ‘l'exae Jack,
497 Back Taylor, King at the Cowboys.
508 The Roy ul Middy or. The Shark and the Sea Cat.
507 The llunted Mi ah man.
511 The Outlawod Id y.
520 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow.
5215 Brothers in Buckskin.
580 The Buckskin Bowen.
1585 The line ski Rovers.
540 Captain Ku— 'lnx, the Marauder oi the me,
545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte.
550 Laltte‘s Legacy: or. The Awaiting son.
55 The Creole Corsair.
56 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadowsr.
565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King.
570 C‘nille, t a Car Queen.
575 '1‘ e Snrgeon- coat Detective.

LATEST AND NEW ISSUES.

577 Pavement Pete. the Secret Siner. By Jo Pierce.
578 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Ailoat. By Edward 1... Wheeler.

579 The Chlnsne S or Broadwa Bill ‘s Snrprlu.r.n r
By J. C.Cowdri{ln p" ’ y y ’

580 The Outcast Cadet; or, The False Detective. By Col.
Prentiss lugrahaln.

581 Dongle-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detxtive. By George C.
en

582 Dodger Dick’s Bro]... By T. C. Harbaugh.

588 Sail'ron 801. the Man With a Shadow. By Lient. LR. Sims.
584 Deadwo‘dd Dick, Jr., in Denver. By Ed. 1. Wheeler.
585 Will Waters, the Bov Ferret. By H. Enton.

586 The Buckskin Avenger. By Col. Prentiss ingraliam.
587 Old Bollblhell. the Ranger Detective. By “'m. G. Patten,
588 Jacky-Lantern, the Under-Sea Prospector. By Jo Pierce.

589 Torn-Cat and Par-d; or. The Dead Set at Silver City. By
Lie-t. A. K. Sims,

1590 Deadwood Dick, J r’s., Decree. By E. L. Wheeler.

591 Del—onto. the Young Sea-Rover. By Col. P lngrshaln.

592 The Boy Pinkerton. By J. C. Cowdriek.

593 Keen Clem, the Ranch Imp. By P. S. Warns.

594 Little Lon, tbs Street-Singer Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh.

595 {leain Dick Jr. in Beelzebub’s Basin. By I".
. ' cc er.

596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. By Chas.
Morris.

597 The Young Texan Detective. By Col. P. lngmham,

598 Flute. the Singer Detective. By Geo, c_ kam

599 Jlm Dandy, the No-Name Sport. By P. S. “3",...

600 afiadwood Dick Jr. at Coney 1.1mm. n). Edwud L
a. cf.

Ila “ans, the Dutch Vidoc ; or Red-Hot Times at
601 Mugs-{1p By Lieut. A. K. Sims. q ’

602 The Vagabond of the Mines. By Col. P. lngrahsm.
608 Wide-Awake Bert, the Street-Steer". By Jo. Pierce.
604 1ron Fern, the Man oi Eire. By Wm. G. Patten.

Ready February 19.

605 William 0’ Broadway; or, The Boy Detective‘s Big in.
nlng. By J. C. Cowdriclt. Ready February ‘26

606 Deadwood Dick Jr's Leadville Lays: or, Bristol and-
Bncket‘a Loom. By E. L. “'hecler. Ready March 5.

607 The Rover Detective or. Keno Kit's Champions. By
Col. P. ingrnhum. Readv .larrh l‘).

608 The Pitcher Detectlve’a Foil; or, Double Curve Dan’s
Double Play. By Geo. C. Janka. Ready March 19.

609 B ll D It ll V t on Detective: or. Little Lightning’s
in?l...’lt-lefrhy’.loilii “Leasbon. Ready March 20.
A New Issue Every Tuesday.
The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all newde .1.
cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cent. each.
BEADLE AND ADAMS. Publishers.
.8 Willia- Street, New Ya...