“Mi IIHIIHIHIH'II’III Inn-1i \‘\ \~ .} \ ~ _ . ‘ x \ \ '\ g ‘\ ?‘\. . \ \ 3 ‘ . "m ‘ _ \ \ . A \ ‘ ~\ ’ \~\ \ ‘ ‘ \ x c \ , w; ‘ ~ ‘ \ \ . ‘ I I 3 ~ 49 r \ . /. I * ~ ' M WWW ___.__..___._.._._...~._.~,w. __..- _.._.._ . ‘7 JHMM&W@. m” mmmmmmmmmmmflmmmmm.:_n «MMMM 82.50 a year. Entered at. the Post Office at ork. N. Y., at Second Class Mall Rates. . Copyright. 1888, by anw AND Anus. a It“! 3. 1888. I z ‘ \ PIC-F. M ii v I Emir“ :! \ \ 6/ / S 10‘ PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY DEADLE AND ADAMS Price ' VOL Nun f- - No. 9:; WILLIAM STREET. NEW YORK. , 5 Cent’fl- NO' 0' THE BARRANGA F: or, The Beautiful DecZy. WW . | lill', BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR., AUTHOR OF “NIGHT-HAVVK KIT,” “ DAINTY LANCE," “BLACK GIANT,” “BOY TRAILERS,” 1:10., ETC. H " ’ l I); '1 ,y .1 mm " " H! , ‘ :I ‘ II: ’i if" L. I ‘ 1 l " Ii I 5 M *WflW H i -x E l‘ '. '“ 3.11" i' ‘ gm" 1!, MM ‘ ’ ‘ij‘ * 1‘ ' W m fling: fl ‘ . n!" W. u '. min: ... I.:!§!!mhll!!ii"i!‘*‘vvclgwi ~«A w m mw+ W I 1 3 M . . . , II .1 “a” Winfinhmu. g v 1. Mn...“ . . ,. .. I” :1: «um, u“ ,' I! w -. Wm. -- v; "with r.“ = : ..'II . ‘ h " Elma “ . ' ,3 MI: “Willi” l""'.!l!n.; I'I'Li'.” : 'h.‘ L ; xii":il :II':~“*-::.e. ‘ ' " ' m'm'J" ""‘l "h ~...“g,'lh;;:i‘um. 'W n "'uiizm"4""??1L 1" h . v.v ._ , ‘ " ,. v- ‘\ '> i ' - A l, ' " 'P' " W! 1’11 :‘ h ‘ ‘ ~ , ‘ 't at" w "l ‘1 M ' ' i | .2». U H A Sunniwr'F'!‘5|{H?lfi;3§;f l'l ‘1 I" : 'II ‘ I” 1' W" ‘ F I n \ V i i” g 3". 'K r? I“ ‘ ml» i-‘Hl - : a E WITH A PEGULLAB CRY SHE GAVE HER. MUSTANG mum 1mm. AND SPED AWAY WITH THE SPEED OF A SWALLOW. ’ AFTER HEB» THUNDERED THE BIG'YELLOW HORSE. ““zz'va 1—.— —-——___ ‘h'mfi- I ‘ ‘ . m? I 1’ m \ i 2 The Barranca Wolf. The Barranca Wolf; 03. The Beautiful Decoy. A Romance of the Texas Border. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR., AUTHOR or “NIGHT-HAWK KIT,” “DAINTY LANCE," “BLACK GIANT," “BOY TRAILERS," are, ETC. CHAPTER I. THE STRANGE RIDER. “BAH! for my part, I believo it sheer non- sense—nothing but a hoax.” “So said I until lately; but now I know there is Something in it.” The sentences just noted were spoken in very dissimilar tones: the first one careless and slightly scofling—the second low and earnest. Both speakers were young and of prepossessing appearance. he scene was an attractive one, though some- what similar ones haVe been described time and time again. In fact it was the bivouac of a hunting-party. . One glanco would decide this. The soiled and blood-stained garments of the half—score figures gathered around the cheerful, crackling fire, in attitudes of careless ease, for the most part with pipe in mouth, the half-picked bones and frag- ments of meat scattered profusely here and there, telling of a hearty meal just passed by. The horses, rudely ho pled, grazing eagerly hard-by their sides stil wet with sweat; the lentiful supply of rudely-butchered meat that ung suspended from the trees around. mostly of buffalo and deer, all told plainly that this was the bivouac of hunters, resting after a suc- cessful day’s chase. In conscious security they had kindled their camp-fire, and now, without a thought of dan- ger, were enjoying that indispensable luxury of a true plainsman —pipes and tobacco. Though our hunters had not given the matter a thought the camp had been pitched in a truly love] an icturesque spot. At this point two good y-size timber- islands extended an arm to- ward each other, almost meeting. In fact, though the tree trunks were separated by sev- eral yards, their long branches fairly touched, interweaved together, forming a guyly‘tinted arch, the frost-touched leaves vying in bril- liancy with the colors of the rainbow. Through and be ond this natural bower, the prairie stretched or away in gently-undulating swells, studded at irregular intervals with tim- ber mottes something similar to those beside which we find our friends. Close to these twin mottes was a clear stream of water, a confluent of the Trinity River. As already incidentally mentioned, the party consisted of half a score of hunters, all young— the eldest scarcely numbering thirty years, while. one or two were a third less than that. They were such men as only can be found apart. from the great cities, nurtured in the broad West, their limbs and lungs full developed by the clear, pure atmosphere 0 the prairies. They would have been out of place in a ladies’ drawing-room, because they were at home here. Their hair was worn long; scarce] one of their faces had ever known the touch 0 a. razor, giv- ing their beards a glossy silkiness seldom seen, that even the scorching sun or crinkling winds of winter could not destroy. “What do you mean b that, Fred?” quickly ' added the first speaker, dward Cam pbell—a tall, stalwart youth, who, despite his flew years, had already gained a widely-known reputation from more than one desperate combat with the savages and wild beasts. “Just what I say, N ed,” and Fred Hawksley spoke in a serious tone. “I know there is such a being, because I have seen her—yes, and spoken to her, too.” . A general movement followed this announce- ment, and it was plain that the subject under discussion possessed no little interest to the hunters. Still, despite Hawksley’s earnestness, they seemed to doubt. ' ‘fYou have never mentioned this before, Fred. Are you sure there is no mistake?” “Am I a. foo Ned Campbell?” retorted the young man, cool y. “ I tell you that I saw her, only three days ago, not two miles from this very spot. And I spoke to her, too, as I told you before.” “That’s why you were so urgent for us to 5 'milcs around. encamp here, was it?” laughed Ned. “ But never mind—tell us all about it now.” _“Yes-—who is she! What did she look like? Did she answer you 3” eagerly cried sevoral of the little band. _“ Well, I’ll tell you all I know about it, pro- v1ded you promise not to make fun of me.” “ You’re not at another of your sells, are you, Fred! Honest Injun. now.” “ No, Ned, I mean just what I say.” “ That's enough. Go on. When you talk like that, we know you’re not fooling.’ “ Well, asI said, I saw her three days ago, out just beyond the big red rock; you know where that is. I didn’t mention it to any of 'ou, because we had all .been deriding Hark ogan so unmercifully about her, that I was ashamed to tell what 1 had seen. You may re— member that l was unusually quiet that night after ett-ing back to camp. I told you I felt tired, utl was thinking. ‘ “ You know that the red rock is just on the to of a high swell—the highest ground for I I was climbing this—as my nag was tired and heavily loaded with meat—on foot. Mott sudden] raiszd his head and whickercd. Even hady there not come a quick reply, that would have told me there was another horse near by, but a neigh did come from directly ahead of me. “ I was then almost on the top of the SWell, and so could just see the top of the big rock. And there, beside it, she Was. You know how high the rock is. “fell, as she sat her horse, her head was on a. level with the highest part ot' the rock, so you can judge she was no baby. “ I remembered Bogan’s description the mo- ment I saw this, and knew that I must be look- ing upon his ‘wild woman.’ At firstI could only see her head and shoulders. On her head she wore asmall on of some kind of fur, with two or three bi ight y-d ed eagle-feathers, such as the Kiowas wear. er dress—what I could see of it—seemed to be made of tanned fawn- skin trimmed in Indian style. “ I took in this much at a glance, and as it was nearly dark, I naturally thought she was some Indian. I knew that only a woman could wear 'such hair as that which hung down her back. I even laughed as I thought how crestfallen old Hark would be when I proved to him that his lovely white phantom was nothing more than some wanderin g Indian squaw. . “ Thinking this. I kept on until close to the rock and not half a dozen len the from the stranger. Then she lifted a ban and motioned for me to pause. That she meant this, I saw from her turning the muzzle of alight, hand- some rifle toward my breast, it resting between the ears of her horse. She seemed like one who had smelled powder before, and I obeyed her. “ Now I could see that she was white—though her complexion was that of a rich brunette. A- more beautiful face I never saw. I can’t de- scribe it—only that her great big eyes Were black and shining as those of a. d'eer: that her, figure was the most superb] developed, the most symmetrical that I ever held in my life. Boys, that face and figure have haunted me ever since. If that woman is as good and pure as she is beautiful, she would be well worth gying for!" suddenly added Hawksley, puffing gorously at his extinguished pipe. ‘ And still better livin for—eh, Fred?” and Ned Campbell lau bed. ‘ ut o on—you spoke to her—this marve ous beautygl “ Yes—but not until she spoke first to me. I was still staring at her, amazed, for I knew that she did not livo anywhere around here—at least with any one I know, and there’s few families ' in the State that I do not know. “ ‘ What is your name?’ “ Just that and nothing more, Of course I told her. But that voice! It corresponded perfectly with her face and figure, rich, mellow voluptuous—just such a voice as I believe Homer endowed the goddess Calypso with when she was seekinglto captivate Ulysses.” “ Ha! ha! t e invincible conquered—Fred Hawksley in love with the fair unknown !” “ Laugh if ou will, Ned Campbell,” was the sober reply, ‘ I half believe it myself. But as I said, I answered her. She did not speak again, but gave me a look—a glance that set In brain afire—my heart to throbbing like a trip-ham- mer. Then she touched the rein and shot off to the right, swift as an arrow. At a little dis- tance she paused and raised one band toward me. I was dumfounded then, but since, I be- lieve that she meant it as a challange to me. I did mount Mott, but jaded as he was, I knew :hat he stood no chance in a race with that mus- ang. “ Ned, as I rode slowly toward camp, the She said: strange woman—whoever she may be—fairly rode round me, then with a clear, taunting laugh, gave loose rein and dashed away over the prairie like a bird. In five minutes she was out of sight. Now you know all that I kn0w about the matter." “And you choose this camp in hopes of seeing her a ain?” “ ell, no, not that exactly; and at I did think of her. v If we do meet again, I’l find out who she is, if it lies in old Mott’s limbs to carry me up to her. There’s some mystery about the woman, that I’ve determined to unravel.” “ Give old ' buckskin ’ a fair show, with plenty of ground before him, and he’ll ride over the best mustang that ever scored turf in Texas.” “I believe he can,” and Hawksley glanced roudly toward the large, but nobly-sbape’d yel- ow horse that munched the grass at he tim« ber’s edge. “ Hark 1” There was little need of the exclamation, for all, both human and quadruped, heard the sound that called it forth, the quick, rapid thud of a horse’s hoofs upon the solid prairie. All eyes were instantly turned toward the arch before alluded to. The rider—and a trained ear has but little difficulty in deciding whether a gal- Ioping horse is rider]ess——wboever it might be, was beyond the neck of timber, yet evidently approachin the bivouac. _ be bun ers felt only curiOSity, for the knew that only one horseman approachei . Then a simultaneous cry broke from their lips. For a moment they appeared awe—stricken. Sitting a noble-looking mustang beneath the leafy canopy, with form perfectly outlined against the still glowing sky in the west was none other than the strange being who had formed the subject of conversation for the past half-hour. Her features were indistinctly visi- ble, but there could be no mistake. She sat her horse in true savage style: astride, and, with a dress fashioned for that u so, as was hers, the effect was far from dpisp easing. Her dress flashed back the flrelight in a thou— sand scintillations, from the beads and silver ornaments that thickly studded its folds. The long black hair, sli htly curling at the extremi- ties, floated in wil' profusion arotmd her form. A light rifle was careless] balanced across the deep—seated Mexican sa dle. Other weapons gleamed from the belt that encircled her round, com act waist. “ ho and what are you, anyhow?” cried Campbell, breaking the spell with an effort. The onlyr reply was a lOW, clear lau h, melo- dious as he notes of a silver bell. awksley had not exaggerated in the least. The most; skeptical now acknowledged this, mentally, if not aloud. “Keep her in si ht, Ned,” muttered Fred, as be arose. “ If Mo t can do it. I’ll answer that question before I’m an hour older 1” At his movement, the strange rider wheeled her mustang and seemed ready for flight, her face turned, glancin back over her shoulder. “ I can drop the P ebald without hurting her,” muttered Campbe] , half inquirin ly. “No—that would never do. 9 hav no right. Keep her in sight—I think I can over- haul her,” and Hawksley uttered a 10W whistle, at tbe'same time gliding toward where his sad- dle and bridle hung. With another 0 car laugh, the strange rider turned, and, bendin low alon the spotted mustan ’s neck, das ed aroun the tlmber, Campbe rushed to the arch, then paused, mug- tering eagerly: . . “Quick, Fred—she’s waiting for on!" Such indeed seemed the case. he woman had only retreated a few hundred. yards from the bivouac, and then, as if feelin implicit con- fidence in the powers of the 3mm she bestrode, had halted, once more glancing back toward the camp-fire. Her actions were strange as her appearance. She seemed muting—challenging pursuit. In less than a minute tro'hi her first appear. ance, Fred Hawksley sprung upon his noble beast, and dashed through. the arch out upon the prairie. The strange rider uttered another laugh, clear and silvery, yet with a tauntggg cadence that caused the young hunter’s bl to tin lo and his lips to compress firmly. He re- solv to overtake the woman, even if it cost him the noble steed he bestrode. “We’ll 'follow on after you, Fred,” cried Campbell as his friend dashed past him. “ Don‘t be rash—there may be some devilt in this!”_ The strange rider tossed back her outing ha" with one hand, as the young borderer sprung into view; then withapeculiar cry she gave her mustang free rein, and sped away with the i ;. I 1 The Barranca .Wolf. I 3 speed of a swallow. After her thundered the big yellow horse, with the long, swinging stride that Fred knew few mustangs could suc- cessfully co with an thing over a mile dash. “Quick, g?) s—sad la n I” cried Campbell, excitedly. “ ever mind t 0 meat. I’m afraid that Fred is running into some trouble—that creature has bewitched him. See! he forgot his rifle—but he has his pistols. Make haste! we mustn‘t lose sight of them if we can help it, ,though the moon is full and will soon be up. We can follow their trail, if needs be.” There was little hesitation. Thounh the day‘s work had been hard, both men and beasts were ready for a race, and this was no common one. Already the young hunters possessed a burning curiosity to know who and what this strange woman rider really was, and what was the motive of her strange actions. Hopples were slipped, saddles and bridles quickly adjusted, and then, Weapons in hand, the little party dashed swiftl beneath the natural roc , out upon the broad, prairie. But where were the two riders—their friend and the - strange woman. For a moment a superstitious thrill agitated the young hunters, but then Campbell laughed. He saw their foolishness. ‘ “They’re beyond the swell—we’ll see them in a moment. Come on—keep up with me if you can! That he spoke the truth, the next moment confirmed. Gliding like shadowy ‘phantonis, rapidly yet noiselessly, two riders appeared near the crest of the Second swell, already a mile away. Only that‘the moon was just ris~ ing the eastern swells, the chase would have been invisible to the hunters. But few more words were spoken on the part of the little band. One and all, they saw that a long and severe'race was before them, and that all their attention must be givento their horses, already Jaded by their hard day’s hunt, if they hoped to keep Within view of the young ranger. Up hill and down, over gullies and through the patches of tall grass and weeds, sped the hun- ters, now no longer in a. compact clum , but strung out with intervals of a yard, a orse’s length, maybe, between each other. A dozen lengths in front thundered Ned Campbell on his big bay horse. “ Do the best ye can, boys.” he shouted back, with beard on shoulder. “If you can’t ‘keep up. follow the trail.” Each of his friends felt the same vs no fear that agitated Campbell‘s heart. They elieved that Hawksley was being led into some great peril by this strange rider—that she was acting the part of a decoy. But why? That was beyond them. They did not pause to reason—they jumped at once to the conclusion, preposterous as it seemed. The moon_ shone clear and full upon the rairie, lighting up this unique, double chase. rat—far ahead, almost invisible in the dim, deceitful light, sped the,stran e woman rider, the spotted mustang running finely and seem- ingly at ease. Close behind—in fact not more than a hundred yards, thundered the dark fliure of the young ranger, urging on his noble ‘2 uckskin ” With both voice and spur. A mile further to the rear wa-Ned Campbell, his big bay holding its own, if not slowly gaining upon the two foremost racers. Gradually losing groand, on struggled the others, bringing up the rear. Bitterly Hawksle regretted having so severe- ly taxed his anim during the day. Were be fresh now, there was little doubt as to how the case would terminate. The spotted mustang would speedin be forced to acknowledge its master But now? With varying hope and tear, li‘red urged his horse on. He scarcely knew what to think. At times the spotted creature seemed laboring heavil , at others to be. running well within himsrl . ' Could it be that this strange woman was playing with him? Fred bit his lip and pressed his spurs home. With an angry snort, the big horse plunged forward with 1i htning speed. . Ned Oampbel was urging his horse to the ‘ utmost, and in his anxiety concerning his friend, he neglected his usualcaution, unfortunatel for all concerned. Fearing to lose sight 0 the chase, his aze was bent ahead, as he gained the crest o a swell, A loud cheer burst from his lips as he caught sight of 1118 friend, seemin 1y riding 01056 beSIde the strange woman. As he turned his head to cheer on is friends, Ned felt his horse suddenly stumble and then came insensibility. The big be horse had stepped into the bur- row ofagpp or, and stumbl n , fell With vioo lance, castingits rider far overfits head. Camp- | ~ bell lay like one dead, and forgetting all else in their anxiety regardin his welfare, the young hunters dismounted an crowded round him. Thus a full half-hour was lost; momentous minutes to their friend Fred Hawksley. Only for that unfortunate stumble, how much that followed might have been spared! ‘Thou h Considerably bruised, when he re- turned 0 consi-iousness, Campbell found that no bones were broken. Almost his first thought was for his horse. It stood near by, leisurely cropping the grass, in no wise injured by the contrelemps. Ned uttered a little exclamation, as he glanced around him. He counted eight forms besides his own. Then he glanced over the rairie in which direction he had last noted is oung friend. It was clear and unobstructed. awk- sley and the strange rider had disap eared. “ You ought to havn followed on, oys. I fear that Fred is running into some snare. Do you take the trail now. I remember the point where I last saw them. 'I’ll ride on ahead. Don’t lose any time, but keep the right track. Fred’s life may depend upon it.” Before the last words Were spoken, he was in the saddle and away. One quick glance around settled his course, and then fixing his eyes steadily upon a point of timber a mile or more ahead, he dashed on like an arrow fresh from the bow. His companions followed more deliberately, though at a steady gallop. The moonlight was sufficiently stron to enable them to follow the plainly imprinte trail with little difficulty. In a few minutes the lost sight of Ned Campbell, behind atimber is and. Round a point of this the trail led, and dash- ing along, the eyes of the pursuers widely dilated as they abruptly drew rein. The prairie here stretched out free of timber, almost level for several miles in either direction. And yet not a living object was to be seen upon its surface! Was this magic? More than one of the hunters felt a thrill of su )erstitious awe, as they glanced at each other; here were Hawksley and the strange woman? Where was Ned Cam bell? “ Look!" muttered a tall, lank yout , Zebe- dee Ruel by name, “hyar’s thar trail—three critters goin at full split. They’ve passed this- aiway. Reckon we’d best follow on—what sayi’ The trail was faint and indistinct at this int, for the ground was harder, ringing sharp y be- neath the iron-shod hoofs. It was the ed e of a tract of prairie sometimes found in exas— more frequently in Kansas and Nebraska—com« posed of sand,‘gravel and flinty pebbles, over which a horse may as without leaving a trail. Such was soon ound to be the case here. Though all dismounted even searchin. the ground upon hands and knees, the tan was soon lost. . “ Hal boys, we’re fools i” muttered Craig Fen- ton, in a tone of disquiet. - “Don’t you know this place? Why we’re not flve miles from 001- ton’s Ranch 1” “ By thunder! you’re right, Craig,” muttered Ruel.‘ “Then they must’ 6 in the-'—” “ Look yonder!’ Following the direction indicated by the out- stretched finger, the hunters beheld the tall figure of a‘horseman, standing motionless upon the prairie, not two hundred yards from their position. And yet, only a moment before, the prairie had been closely scanned, without a liv- ing object being seen. CHAPTER II... THE LOTTERY or DEATH. 'O'rnna events were occurring upon that same night, that new claim our attention. A small timber island that stood close beside the stream before spoken of as running near the hunters’ bivouac, was the scene of a strange and peculiar trial: one that mi ht with propri- ety be termed a. lottery of death Shortly after dark a band of horsemen began congregating here, riding silently into the road, dismounting and tetherin their animals in a small glage that Occupi the center of the motto. T at they were white men, was plain from the few words ken, though the over- hanging trees conceal their features. no man who was among the first to arrive, ap ared hi h in authority, judg from the do erence w th which he was roger ed b the others. He seemed ill at ease, or very in a- tient, moving restlesst to and fro, matte ng morethan one curse beneath his breath, stain mg his foot fiercely or nervously fingering e w as at his'belt. . ’ ‘ “ 0w many are there here, Thompson?” he uttered, abruptly pausing beside a tall, muscu- lar frame. “Seventeen, by my count, Cap’n Jap,” r - plied the man with the stumpy pipe sti l clinched betwixt his teeth. “ Thar’s two more yit—Colton an’ Marcks." “Can it be that he sus cts the purpose of our meeting to-nighti T e soft-headed fool may have seen his brother since then, and as he knows the laws of our band, that would put him on his guard. Let him beware! He’d bet- ter cut his own throat than to prove false to us 3? “ True es preachin’, Cap’n J ap,” quothnThomp- son. “We‘d serve him wuss’n we did Hans Koch. But he’ll be here, I reckon. He‘s most al’ays behindhan’.” “Start the fire, Jim. We must haVe light for the drawing. Hal there comes some one now P) “Yes—an’.it’s him, too. He rides the only racker in the band.” “Good!” then addingl in 'a low, ra id tone: “You must watch i When he learns What is on the boards, he may cut up nasty. Keep close enough to him to grab him if I give the word._ You understand?" “Bet ye—I‘ll do it, never fear,” muttered the man, as he gathered a handful of dried leaves and rass. " ell, Colton,” sternly uttered the man _Od~ dressed as Captain J ap-his‘name being Jasper Morton—turning to the last comer, “you are late, as usual.” . ' “ I could not help it, Captain Mot ton. I was kept—” ‘No excuses. But if you ever hope to rise higher in the band, on must break yourself of this habit. Only or one thing, you would have been discharged from the league, long “And that is—” ' “We know you would betra ‘us before the week was out. There— an nee not deny it. I know you too wall. merely mentioned this now because I belieVe you need a hint of the kind. You are watched-J tell on that much. You remember Hans Koch!l It as not been‘ so long since that you should forget his fate. Take care that we do not have to deal with you in that manner.” , * “ What have I done that you should threaten me in this manner, Captain Morton? Have I averrproved false—haven’t I always obeyed or- ers , “ There~don’t get your back up, Jack Cotton. What I say is for your own good, f I am not mistaken you will be tested to-night, more se- verely than you think. See to it that you do not fail. If you do—you die ! " ~ “ I don’t understand you.” “You will, before long. Thompson. We only re uire a little li ht, and some prying eye mi h - catch the hunter. Now, men,” he adde . after a brie use, “ other round and listen well to what ray. 9 have work to do this night—some of you may know what I mean, but most of you do not. Listen well, but keep silence. , “First, a word as to the obiecte of our lea no, then as to our laws. It wi I do no harm to reshen your memory on these points. ‘We all know our callin r name, for it is con- fiscatitm—others ca lit stealing: but that don’t matter. Among ourselves we are ‘Night Hawka’ To others we are simple cattle- drovers, mustangers, or quiet settlers. ‘ “We have been organized some six months. In that time our profits have been nearly two thousand dollars per man: a little better than simple farming. But it will be better stillme that our markets are fairly opened, anda chain established along which we can ship our plun- der without chance of being detected. All this, however, you know. . “ Now about our laws. The first is—death to all traitors. The next—death to those. who stubbornly refuse to perform the duty a new to them. Our motto is, blood for blood. f a member of our league is taken prisoner, we swear to free him. though it cost the lives of half our number. If one is killed, we swear to aven 3 him. - - w “ on all remember Hans Koch. - He warned a friend that we intended cleaning out his cor- ral onacertain, night. A trap was setfor Us, but we escaped it, because a trusted spy dis- eavered Koch’s treacher . You kn0w that Koch met his reward. killed him, because the lot fell to me. Had I refused, your laws would have condemned me, even thou h I Was twice goal- leader. You wonder why say all this? ' will tell you now. in close, T ompson. ‘ That will do, - “You know that Koch’s death reducedthe ' \ ~ . {go in his footsteps. "When number of our league to twenty. There are .only eighteen here now. One—Tony Marcks— is absent on duty assigned him by me. The other—Israel Hackett—is dead.” A low murmur of surprise followed this an- nouncement, and it was evident that few, if any of the bard had known of their comrade’s fate. Jasper Morton waved his hand for silence, then resumed. ‘ “ Yes, Israel Hackett is dead—he was killed last night while performing his duty. He was one of our best men, and now duty becomes a pleasure—we must avenge him as our laws de- mand.” “ He shall be avenged—the name? who killed him l” came the fierce cry from more than one pair of lips. .“ Keep cool—all in good time, men. We will proceed by rule. It is only One man. And upon one of us the duty falls. We will decide by the lottery. It is the fairest way. Thomp- son—the pinch!" A smal , narrow buckskin .bag was handed the leader, who knelt beside the small fire that flickered faintly and feebly. At a gesture from him the outlaws—for such they undoubtedly were—gathered more closely around, bending forW~rd and watchin his every motion. “ You know the ru es of this—that a. bullet ahall beplaced in the bag for each and every n resent, all but one of them being old and sta ned by rubbing together—the other one ht and new. Then we draw, one by one, m: l the bright bullet is chosen. The man who draws that is the one chesen executioner. There can be no refusal—no retreating. It is a sacred command, and the one who refuses to obey proclaims himself a traitor. Do you all under stand me?” i “ Yes—we are all ready I” “ And you f” turning abruptly toward the man he had called Jack Colton. “ I vow with the rest—I am- ready,” came the ply. “Good! I confess that I had some doubts, for on have acted rather queerly since Koch’s dos h,” sneered Morton. ' “ He was my friend—you can not blame me for feeling touched at his horrible death." “There is nothing wrong in that—only be- ware that'you do not let your friendship carry His wretched fate would happiness compared with yours, in that case. Morton seemed to have some secret s ite against this member of his band, but Co ton commanded himself b an effort of will and with a scowl the out aw leader turned once more to the subject in hand. . “Thompson, mold a bullet, your molds run the truest. Makehaste.” Five minutes later, all was ready. Jasper Morton took the bullets-«me bright as silver, the others all din y and dark—and slowly dro them one y one into the buckskin , so that all could see. Then he shook them up thoroughly. “ Now, as I call, let each man step forward and draw. You are standing in a circle. I will I egin here at my right hand, and go to the left. on draw open your hand and hold the bullet n the firelight so that all may see. You nut, Wilkins!” The man advanced plunged his hand into the pouch, withdrew it, holding the pellet of lead where the firelight shone full upon it. It was dark and dingy. So were the next half-dozen drawn. Some named pleased at the result, others indifferent, but one uttered a low curse, as though he had been dep the bright bullet. Jack Colton came next, and the features 'of ' ' the outlaw chief 1i hted upwit‘n a gleam of malignant joy. at e jyoung man held u%the fatal pellet. It was list what he had een longing for. Had be known the meaning of the word, it is probable that he would have prayed for this result. - . “You‘are the elected, Colton,” he cried, in a voice that rung with triumph. “ Your hand ust deal the avenging blow! But first—to s w that all Was coaducted fair. See—here are the other bullets. All are dark—you drew the only bright one. Are you satisfied?” . “Yes, I am satisfied. I will avange Hackett smegfate selects .me. Tell me the name, an what I must do,” til ietly replied the young man. “You must ki him, and before morning. Such are the rules. No unnecessary delay.” , “ I know—his name?” impatiently. “Listen. Ofcoursel am very that it has he ned as it has. It would have been better ad the choice fallen on some other man; rived of a prized boon in rot drawing. The Barranca ‘Wolf. but since you are elected, you must forget all save that you belong to this league,” and as he spoke Morton’s eyes gleamed with diabolical JO . X What do you mean by this?” faltered Colton, his ill-onaed c eek paling. “ Only to prepare you. Israel Hackett was killed by your brother. Henry Colton I” “ My God!” gasped Colton, the terrible truth bursting upon his cart. My brother—and I— but no, nol You can not mean that!” “ Thompson, remember what I told you,” cried Morton, sharply shrinking back from be- fore the agitated outlaw, one hand seeking his belt. “Yes, I do mean it. Your brother killed Hackett, and he is doomed. You took your chance with the rest of us—you must fulfill your oath.” “ I will not—I’ll kill you first!” screamed the unfortunate young man, and in his frenzy, his revolver was jerked from the sheath at his side. Now Morton’s precautions stood him in good stead. Thompsbn sprung forward and clutched the half-crazed outlaw, pinning his arms closely to his sides, holdin him powerless as a child. Thus assisted, orton quickly disarmed Col- ton, then motioned Thom pson, to release him. With a hot, angry glance around him, the young man stood still, quelling his emotion by a power- ful exertion of will. “ Now let me know just what you mean by this action, Jack Colton. Have you forgotten our oath this soon? Do you intend to defy the eaguel” “ Yes—when you try to make me soil my banlds with the b ood of a brother,” was the firm reP Y- “ Ah you remember the tie now, do you i” cheered Morton. “And yet only a' few weeks since, you swore that you’d have his heart’s blood. Have you forgotten that he cursed you, and drove you from he door like a dog, beCuuse, as he said you insulted his wife?” “He only served me right. I did insult her, but it was when I was drunk. Never mind that now. I tell you that I will not murder him.” “Take care—you are sealing your own doom by these words. You have been told your duty —obey, or take the consequence.” “ Let it come. I am ready. “ Burn the fool—what’s the use 0’ palaverin’l” growled Thompson. “ Here’s the bullets; shake em up, an’ give him a turn.” :: fier’the ast time—will you obey i”- 0. Again the drawin of the death-lottery was gone through, this t me even more deliberately than before. Evidentl Morton was anxious to put Colton to death, rom some reason of his own. During its progress, the attitude of. the risoner—for such e now was—did not change, ut his features altered greatly. His resolution seemed dying out as he noted the cool noncha- lance wit w ich the lots were drawn. Life ap- peared more and more dear to him. “ It’s me ” uttered Thompson, with a coarse laugh. “ Well, Colton, my bov, since it’s so. reckon I must. How’ll you ev ill—lead or steel?” “Neither. Spare me—do not murder me!" the youn man, pale and tremhllng. . “ You know 1; e alternative,” coolly replied Morton. “ Do your duty and you are safe.’ “ You are not Seating—you mean this?” “Yes. Strike the low that avenges Israel Hackett, and we will forget that you refused to do your duty.” ‘ I will do it. I did not think it was so hard to die; and he did treat me mean—like a dog- he even kicked me i” muttered Colton, trem- hlingly. Morton’s eye learned. This sudden change seemed to please im reatly. Thompson looked on in disgust. He felt only contempt for this pitiful craven. “ Come, we have lost time enough. Mount, and let’s be going. We’ll make a clean sweep of the corrals, too, while about It. Thompson, you and I will keep our friend here com- pany,” and Morton glanced significantly at his acolyte. The little band filed forth from the woods, and then set out over the prairie at a rapid gallop— the one gait of Morton’s horsemen. They had only a few miles to travel, and of that they made short work. Jack 00an 'rode between Thompson and Morton, his head bewed as though strongly agi- tated. The outlaw chief was in high spirits. Whatever ma . have been his object, he was greatly with the come affairs had that nightta . . ~ ‘Yonder’s the ranch,” muttered Thompson, slackeu is pace. “Now what’s the pro- gramme, old man i" . .z .l.‘- _, u \ ‘ J __._.. “Well, our first care is to see that Colton. here does his duty. Either you or I can go with him to the door, Just tokeep his courage up, you know; the other can take charge of the men and go through the stables and corral.” “Jest as you say, Cap’n Jap. But how’d we best work it—bu’st in an’ take the critter by s’prise, or knock ’im up?” “Best rap at the door. He’ll think it’s all right when he hears Jack’s voice. And as for you, my man,” addressing Colton, “remember that your life depends upon how you act this night. Thompson, you will keep him covered with our pistol, and at the first sign of treach- ery, rop him. You hear mei” “Yas—I’ll do it, too, so mind yer eye, ole boy,” and the tall rufiian uttered an oath to bind his threat. “ You waste a great many words. I have to do this deed, an I will do it. Why do you threaten so much i” quiet] added Colton. “Because I don’t be] -trust on. Ibelieve on are a traitor at heart, and lyam half-sorry hat I gave you another chance at the grove. But take care! You’d better have been born dead than attempt any treachery toward us now. While one of t a band lives, your life will be in ril.” “ His wi i may be good a-plenty, but he hain’i; got the sand in is craw to act the traitor. But never fret, Ca. ’n J ap. I’ll see that he puts Hen Collon out o’ t e way, or down he goes hisself. Come, we’d better git down here. The houn’s begin to smell us a’ready.” he entire arty now dismounted securing their animals 0 the rude rail fence, at this point being hidden from the house b the long hay~ topped stables. After a few w ispered instruc— tions from Jasper Morton, Thom son linked his arm in that of Colton, and 3 ed silently to- ward the honse. , As they crossed the stile-blocks, a furious: barking roke the air, and half adozen large hounds came rushing toward them. Thompson cocked his pistol, as he muttered in Colton’s ear: 4 “Quiet ’em, Jack; still the brutes, or you’ll neVer live to make love to Hen’s widow 1” “Should you harm me, those brutes would tear you to pieces before you could fire twice,” coolly replied Colton. “See — they know me ” The huge hounds had recognized the hand. that had so often 'fed them In days gone by. and their angry greeting turned to one of joy. With difficulty _0 ton kept them from leapin upon I‘lls body m a swarm, llcking his ban and ace. . Thompson uttered an oath. The haying of the bounds had aroused the inmates of the building, for a faint light shone through the heavil shuttered windows. “ al, it don’t matter much, a’ter all. We won’t hev to knock so lon . But now mind how ye act, Jack Colton. ou see—I hev my shooter cocked an’ ready. The fast crooked step you make—down goes your apple-cart: Onderstand i” “ "es. But suppose he refuses to open the door? “He won’t if you ay it fine. I You tell him to o n; that ou’re ard hit—bin in a muss at the mere. ’11 sw’arto it. Thet’ll fetch him, sure. So—kipder lean on men It’ll look better an’ ’11 hide your barker from him ontil he comes out. Kee cool now, and mind your e e, for your life epends on your domg his jo slick an’ without any bunghn’,” “ All right. You hall him. I’m hurt too pad to call so loud,” added Colton, with a sickly a“ O . “gflellow—the housel You, Hen (Bolton—I gay—dum it all, _man be ye deaf?” roared Thompson, supporting the young man upon one stron arm. “ hat’s wanting out there?” demanded a clear. strong voice from the interior. “You’re wanted—got a sick man here that needsa little doctorin’. Some km 0’ your’n, I reckon. Says he’s our brother.” “ W hats that?” and the heavy door was cau- tiously swung ajar a few "whee. \ “ It’s me, Henry,” and the young man’s voice trembled. . “What’s the matter with you?” the settler demanded, a trace of suspicion in his tone. “ Nothin’ much—only cut u ' a little. Monte Pete an’. One-eyed Johnny onb‘led teams on him, down to the Corners. They’re subject! for a rust-class wake. an’ the lad here is hurt con- sid’able. He would hev me fetch himhere—O said he wanted to make up ’th you, or solnethln’ like that. But I reckon he’s wuth two dead critters ylt,” hastily explained the tall outlaw. I , | is .“ The Barranca. Wolf “It’s true, Henry. Give me shelter for one Ilififill’i; or until my hurts can be looked to. You wx r “Of course—you are my brother still, though you had acted twice us had as you have done. {Janie—let me help you.” The settler, unsuspecting treachery, stepped out. upon the porch, his countenanco expressing his anxiety. Then Thompson nudged Jack '7 Colton with his elbow, as he loosened his hold. What followed was quick as thought. A bright flash—a sharp report—a death-cry of intense agony—u heavy fall upon the broad stone steps. Then Colton, still clutching the smoking pistol, sprung forward, and seizing his brother pushed him forcibly back into the building, in a moment closing the heavy oaken doorand drop- ping the stout bars into place. Inside the brothers-outside, what? A writh- ing, bleeding body from which the life was rapidly ebbing. Thompson the outlaw had been outwitted, and paid the penalty with his life. As he gave Colton the signal that the time had come for his bloody deed, the young man turned his pistol against his breast, and fired. With bullet-pierced breast, the outlaw fell, dying. Henry Colton was thunderstruck. At first he believed that the assault was upon him, but when his brother closed and barred the door, with that horrible groaning outside, an inkling of the truth flashed upon his mind. “ What is this——what do you mean, Jack?” he gasped, bewildered. “ It means that I have saved your life, Henry for the present. But come—is the house Weii secured? Vv’e’ll have a desperate fight on our hands before many minutes.” “Yes—all is secure. But explain—I don’t understand. You are not hurt—that man lied?” "No, I am well. That was part of a plot. But first—out with the light, then 0 and tell your wife that you are safe. Tel her that there is no real danger, for we can easily beat them off until day, and they’ll not dare stay longer, for fear of the neighbors. Go now—then hasten back here.” Henry Colton followed his brother‘s advice, for he heard his affrighted wife calling his name in anxious tones from the upper half- story, that answered for sleeping apartments. .A true woman of the border, she felt safe on seeing him unhurt, and stilling the child, she hastily dressed and followed her husband to the lower floor. “Mary, this is no place for you," murmured 'Henrv as she glided to his side. “ Go and stay With Tommy. There may be danger here.” “ No more to me than to you, Henry. I can load your weapons for you if you have not time. No—l will not go. Tommy is safe up- stairs, and my place is here beside you.” / “ Let her stay, Henry. It will show me what I have to make amends for. Mary,” added Jack, his voice sounding husky,’ “while I have time, let me pray your forgiveness. I was drunk and half-crazy, or I would have known better than to hava insulted you. You will try and forget my words?” “ Yes—and we will be true brother and sister after this. You cannot guess how doe 1v it hurt me, knowing that I had caused her feel- in s between you and Henry.” ‘He was right—it was my fault. But I’ll make amends, if my life is spared.” His brother understood this last remark, though Mary did not, for Jack had, in a few i‘iasty words, told him all. How, when driven ‘mm his home by his only brother, he had fallen into the tempter‘s snare and become one of Jasper Morton’s “Night Hawks.” He told him too of the death-doom sworn by the outlaws, and that while one of the Night Hawks lived, neither would be safe from danger. It was this thought that clouded both their brows. Henry Colton marveled greatly that no at- tack had been made, though full quarter of an hour had elapsed since the fall of Thompson, but a word from Jack explained this. The Night Hawks, busy plundering the stables and Corral, no doubt fancied that the death-cry pro- ceeded from the settler, and that the chosen executioner had done his work well. But they would soon discover the truth, and then— “Ha! it's coming now i” muttered Jack Col- ton, in a low. strained tone, as a cculiar whis— ,tle came faintly to their ears. ‘That’s Mor- ton‘s signal to Thompson.” " Stand in this corner, Marv, out of range. We must show the devils no inercv now, an remember that the more we'lay out tonight, / I the less we will have to fight in the future,” sternly added the settler. “ If the moon only shone brighter!” muttered Jack, his eyes gleaming viciously. “I’d give my left hand for a fair shot at that devil, Mor- ton l" “I know him DOW. If he’s wise, he’ll keep out of range. Lookl yonder they come!” The rifles of the brothers clicked ominously, and then two dark muzzle: protruded slightly from the small loopvholes. The house had been built with an eye to defense against the Indians, though until now the settler had been unmo- lested. The outlaw whom he had shot he de- tected riding off on a valuable stallion, the day before, and at his rifle’s crack, Israel Hackctt fell dead. Horse-stealing was regarded as an even more heinous crime than murder in those days Jasper Morton had chuckled fiendishly as he heard the shot and death—cry. He believed that his plans had n successfully carried out. But he became uneasy at the long delay of his acolyte, and gave the signal as stated. No answer coming, he began to suspect the truth, and mastering his men, was now up preaching the dark and silent building. “ When you are sure of your aim, Jack,” muttered Colton, “ tell me. ” “ I’m ready now.” “ Then—fire l” Two whiplike reports rung out upon the clear night air, soundin almost like one. Two of the Night Hawks to l to the ground, writhing in their death-a onieS. Wild cries broke from the survivors, an with one accord they broke and' fled, seeking the nearest cover, for the moment completely demoralized. . The brothers laughed, and quickly reloaded their Weapons. But Mary seemed greatly agi- tated. As Henry noted her pale and frightened face, she murmured: “ What if they fire the house I” - “My God! I did not think of that!” gasped Colton. __ CHAPTER III. THE MIDNIGHT CONFLICT. A STRANGE fear filled the breast of the young hunter, Ned Campbell, as he dashed away over the prairie, his eyes riveted u n the point where he had last Seen his friend in hot pursuit of the weird rider. And yet, had he attempted he could not have given expression to this dread, in words. Something seemed to tell him that Fred Hawksley was running blindfold into a deadly eril—the more to be dreaded because unknown. hat this strange woman was acting the part of a. decoy. All the rumors that he had ever heard of her, now flashed across his mind. Until thls'nlght he had treated them with contempt, .beileYlllfi them more fabrications, or else finding birt in a superstitious imagination. _ For six months t, that portion of Texas_in and around the “ orners,” had been filled With wild rumors and stories in which a siren e wo- man rider played a prominent part. it one thing all coincided, that the Woman was young and bewilderingly lovely. In all else, the ac- counts differed. One day she was seen here—the next there miles and miles away. Now she rode 9. spotted mustang of great beauty and fieetness; again a black—then a. bright bay. Full twenty ‘men both young and old, solemnly affirmed the they had chased her, some upon horses famed for speed and endurance, but-all declared that she had distanced them With seeming ease. None had ever gotten within speaking distance of her, until now Fred Hawksley declared that he had heard her Voice. ‘ . Where she lived, no one could tell. Certain] not in any house in the county, for close searc had been made by more than one border youth whose impressible heart had been fired by the strange beauty. \Vhen seen, she was ever alone. All in all she was an enigma—and until "0W. Campbell had believad hera myth. Aside from his personal friendship for Fred, another inducemsnt Spurred Ned on. Rumor had it that the handsome hunter had surrender- ed his heart to fair Fannie Hawksley, Fred’s Sister, and for once the owner was correct. q When they set forth upon their hunt, Fannie laughingly bade him take good care of Ered, though there was an undercurrent of serious- ness in her tones that Ned understood. He knew that H a wksley was rash and advonturous, even to foollnrdiness when his blood was fairly aroused, and he had promised her to take care that he returned all right. ‘ He remembered his promise now, and it spur- red him on, that and his faintly-defined pro- sentiment of evil. Should anything sewn-i happen to Fred, how could he face Fannie! “Around that point I must catch sight of him,” he muttered, as he urged on his good horse. for ten miles from there, and surely l was not insensible lon enough for them to cross that stretch? An once in sight I can guard him against danger.” The big buy horse covered the ground, with long, deer-like bounds that swiftly lessened the distance. Though laboring heavily—for full fifteen miles had been traversed since leavin the bivluiac. in addition to a long day's trave —tlic noble brute did not falter. He would con- tinue his stride until his great heart burst, on Ned well knew. But this was no time to con- sider the welfare of a horse, when the safet , perhaps the life of a dear friend hung in t 0 balance. _ With eagerly straining gaze the young hun- ter gained and rounded the point or timber. A cry of wonder broke from his dry “parand he abruptly drew rein. Not a livmg soul was to be seen, though the prairie stretched out before léim, smooth and leVeI almost as a ballroom oor. Where could his friend have gone? .Surely not straight on, across thattract? m )ossible—it was fully ten miles, if an inch. round the motto ? No—for the trail led straight forward, as a glance showed him. , Then a sudden cry broke from Campbell's lips, and be cast a rapid glance aroun . He saw that the moonlight had deccived him—that he was at least a mile further west than he had believed. All was plain to him new—the mys- tery was a mystery no longer. ' ‘ The barranca—they are there—it must‘be sol But how—my God! can that woman have '- been a spirit?” I The ranger reeled in his saddle. The strange events of that night had unmanned him, and wild fancies took possession of his brain. He half belieVed that this strange rider was nothing butadelusion—a phantom who had luned his young friend on to his death. by a fall down the drained that, though still invisible, be well knew lay before him at only a few yards’ dis- tance. His mind a strange medley, Cam bell urged his horse forward, and in half a ozen more bounds, stood upon the verge of the banana: ,' a deep, narrow ravine, wit almost perpendicu- lar sides, the bottom thickly strewn with jagged , bowlders of different sizes. Though this ravme began less than a mile to the south, Ned knew that it ran north for ten times that distance, preserving the same general direction, though winding and tortuous. : Still sitting his horse he peered eagerly down into the barram-a. The full moon behind him only lighted upaportion of the further side. The bottom was wrapped in darkness so deep that from where he stood, the eye could not penetrate it. A strange awe was upon the young ranger. All that was superstitious in his nature was now fully awakened. It seemed more than an adventure with common flesh and blood. Twice his lips parted to utter his friend’s ‘ name, and as often be refrained, why, he could not himself tell. He peered down into the darkness, his horse slowly trotting along the escar merit, toward tlze north. Slli denly Campbell gave Vent to a cry. Close before him seemed anarrow pathway leading down into the ravine. He urged his horse forward, and descended below‘ the level of the prairie. But a very few moments convinced him that ew-n if. be con d do- sceiid to the bottom, he could do little good without lights, and turning he scrambled once more to the level ground. He saw that his comrades had 'come up. and were now standing as if amazed. His was the figure that drew the cry of astonishment from Crai Fenton. , “ uick, boys,” cried Campbell, riding toward them, “ dismount and get something for torches. They must be down there—but whether dead or alive, God only knows l” “ You think that she—” began Fenton, in a low, hushed voice. . . “ I don’t know—I’m afraid to think. But don’t talk—make haste. We must search the ravine.” ' The woods were near, and the young hunter- well knew what to select for torches. In a few minutes they were back to the edge of the bar- ranca. where Ned Campbell had already kindled a light with his flint and steel. Bearing the feebly flickering torches, the. l “ Unle