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The Border Beagig’s fihu‘stzTrail. 

BY JOS. E. BADGER, JR.,

AUTHOR OF THE “SILVERBLADE” NOVELS,
“CHINCAPIN DAN” NOVELS, ma, mo.

CHAPTER I.
A FRIENDLY SPY.

THE night was well spent, and silence reigned
throughout the camp of Sitting Bull, high priest 
and mighty medicine-mpg of the Unk pd “
Sioux. Worn and weary with the weird 3 out.“ 
dance, which had been a daily Performance for -
near] three months past, a] were sleeping 
noun ly: braves, squaws and pap >  ’r;

The camp stood on a level tract, bounded, on.

IN HAND, 823mm EAGER FOR THE TEST. the south by the W'mnged Grand River. on

 

  

  

Silverblade; the Hostile.

 

 

the north by low hills, which curved around to
both east and west. ‘

In the center of the camp-ground rose the
medicine-pole, around which the ghost-dancers
circled, taking the signal from Sitting Bull at
high-noon, and never ceasing until the sun dis-
ap ared from their aching eyes, at evsning.

are and there stood skin tepees, and apart
from the rest rose the log shack occupied by
Sitting Bull and his family.

Nearer the medicine-pole were a number of
bee-gum-looking coops of bent willows, barely
large enough to shelter the crouching form of a
single Indian; sweating-chambers, where all
candidates for the ghost-dance, whether bucks
or squaws, undergo their diurnal purification.

All this is indistinctly lighted up by a few_

camp-fires, now burning low and castin out
little heat. Yet, near the fires are ly ng a
number of human forms, with but a blanket or
skin to guard them from the frozen ground and
the still keen and frost?)V atmosphere.

“Dollars to cents t e boy’s one of ’em, too!”
mentally growled a muffled shape. crouching
behind one .of the sweat—lodges. “Not because
there isn’t room enough in the wicky-ups, but
for the glory of the Indian Messiab~save the

' mark l”

x

"through

Nearly an hour before, the spy had crossed the
hills lying to the north, creepin , crawling,

avoiding the patches of snow is t from the .

recent storm lying low in the deeper shadows
until satisfied that a still closer approach was
within the» possibili ies. For no man knew
better than he how 3 ely his life would pay the
forfeitl in case he was discovered within those
lines, without one to vouch for his friendliness.
Even be for whOse sake this risk was being run
—would he not lift hand to slay, rather than
voice to save?

“It’s a tosspup, and there isn’t another man
I'd run the same risk for,” muttered the spy, his
keen gaze passing from figure to figure of
those! ing near the hmoldering fires. ‘ ‘ At the
best, ’11 get no thanks for it, but—the boy’s
worth saving, and save~ him I will, in spite of
his teeth 1"

Right or wron, the spy had finally fixed
on one of thone enlist-enveloped abs 3 as the
person he was seeking, and seeing noth n , hear~
ng nothing to indicate that his movements had'
attracted dangerous notice, he rose to his feet
and noiselessly glided forward.

A dark blanket shrouded his form and covered
all but a single eye. From head to foot he
looked the Indian, and now that he was fairly
within the camp, only an accident or his own
im prudence was likely to expose the cheat.

The spy drew near to where that selected
shape was lying, but even as he started to lie
down beside it, one of the Indians near at hand
abruptly lifted himself on an elbow, giving a
guttural ejaculation. *

“II b! it is cold, brother !” muttered the spy,
1 ing own close to the back of that motionless
gauze, as though to borrow part of its animal

“It will be warm enough when the Messiah

v comes,” mumbled the other. as his head lowered,

all suspicion banished by that perfect accent.-
For some little time-the spy lay motionless,
only making his next move when the heavy

breathing told him the Sioux brave was once
.more bound with slumber’s chains.
hand stole softly over the man lying before him,

Then, one

parting the heavy blanket until his cold fingers
touched the lips of the sleeper. A slight shiver
gave him warning, and with hand ready to close
over month, he softly whispered:

“Silverblade—Davie—son of Weenamool” ,

His hand closed tightly over that mouth in,
time to smother an exclamation, and then he
swiftly breathed in earnest tones:

" Not a word, unless you’re hungry for my
scalp, Davie!”

That the spy was no coward, his present situa-,
tion plainly evxdenced, but the next few mo-
ments were terribly trying to even his nerves of

V steel. 'A single cryi an involuntary start, even,

would almost sure y rouse some of those slum-
bering braves, and their sus ici0ns once aroused,
detection would be inevitab . And that, under
existing circumstances. would mean death, none
the less sure because dearly bought. '
The shiver that ran through the form his
breast was touching, told the spy his voice was
recognized; but would past friendship prove
$01131 enough to overcome present enmityi
o c—

" Gel“ before they find out!”

Only ears sh ed b peril could have dis-
tinguished those words, ut the s y heard. and
drew a lon , free breath. A tin 1 ng glow shot
hardy frame, chill by long scout-

y
k .

‘. l.

 

ing, added to contact with the frozen earth. It
seemed as though he had passed into the genial
warmth of a heated chamber.

“ Davie—boy pardi”

“ Go! Are you mad, that you come here?”
“ I had to come. I told Little Sure Shot I’d
find you ”

“Enola! You have seen— Go, Bi Horn i”
cutting his own question short. “ on are
white, but I would not see you killed. Go,
while the path is open!” '

“ Then you haven’t clean forgot old times,
Davie, boy?”

“ Davie is dead. I am Silverblade, the son of

,-

Weenamoo. I am all red now i”

“So you think, but ou’re fooled lad," with
the ghost of a laugh, as ite his perilous situa-
tiOn. “ If you were all njun, ou’d spit Out
your war-cry, and make a hot gra for my hair!
And 80—”

Silverblade turned over, so as to face his
strange visitor, but either that movement, or
their subdued whis erings, seemed sufficient to
muse the brave w 0 had but a few minutes
earlier addressed theISpy, and with an impatient
grunt, he lifted his head, staring drowsily
around by the dull glow ofthe campfire.

In his turn, the spy gave a grunt and uneasy

' squirm, then, in low, husky tones, he muttered

a snatch of the ghostdance chant:

“ Father, father, our hearts cry out to you!
“ Eather, father, we are—wait——"

His voice died away in a prolonged snore, and

neither he nor Silverblade stirred a muscle as v

the Sioux staggered to his feet “to pass them
by gmd give the fire a kick with is moccasined
bee , - ,

For all, they watched his movements, and
both breathed easier when he lay down on the
Opposite side of the fire, too far away to catch
their guarded whisperings. .

Silverblade noiselesst planned a fold of his
blanket over the head of. the spy as they lay
with faces almost touching each other, then
re ated his warning to flee.

‘ Not without you go with me, Davie,” came
the whispered reply. “I’ve got more to say
than I can tell you here.”

“ I have but one answer: I am Silverblade. I
wait for the Indian Messiah. Go, before I for-
get that I once was white! Go, before I call
aloud to Sitting Bull that the Border Beagle isa
spy in his camp!”

“If he’s the mighty medicine-man he claims
to be, he surely knews I’m here," half-mocking-
ly breathed the spy. “ Since he don’t kick, why
need you worry i”

“ He’d kill you like a dog!” .

“ Unless some of his bucks got in the first lick
—don’t I know it. led? d so-come With me,
if only far enough away from the gang for a
free word or two. ’

“You have said all that lips can say, and I
have given you my final answer. I am no
longer white. I am red-all red!”

“ I ,promised Enola to‘tlnd you, and tell

u_ .

o
y “Tell Little Sure Shot that Silverblade will
come when the Messiah ves him leave. Until
then—go, Big Horn, or t edays of life that are
yet yours, will be less than as many seconds!”

“ ’1! go, when you hear me company, DaVie.
If you won’t do that, I’ll just wait until you
yelp out, or until the sun shows my face to your
dandy bucks!” _

Although so softly spoken, there was a grim
determination in those words which Silverblade,
thanks to past associations. could not ignore.
He knew that- Big Horn Buck meant every
word. He knew that. unless he himself should
yield to a degree, the Border Beagle would dog-
gedly await discovery, even if he did not actu-
ally invite it by throwing ‘03 all disguise.

“ If you stay you will surely die! And
Silverblade will die with you, brother. Is this
your wish, Big Horn?”

f‘Not if I can make it pan out difierent,
Davie, be sure! I love life' as dearly as any
man can, and the past month has shown me
something which makes it still better worth liv-

ing.’ 1
‘ Would on have the oang squaw blacken’
her face angthrow ashes gpon her head? Then
—50 Big Horn!” _ | ,

With you, Davie, or never.”

“‘ If found here we will both die!”

“ I know it. And that means a mighty eight
more to me than to you, Dane. since th 9 my:
craze has ca tured you. With me, once dead
means dead a lover, while' yaw—”

His lips were sealed by a deft hand, but there
was far more of friends ip than of anger in that

 

touch, and instinct told Big Horn that he had‘
touched the right chord at last.

As _a ghost-dancer, and firm believsr in the
doctrine preached by and of the Indian Messiah,
death had little terrors for Silverblade: for
would be not rise again, made forever whole by
that glorious voice? He was red—all red, now!
He believed, he had perfect fuith, he was a true
worshiper of the Coming King.

But this man whose breath was mingling with
his, whose heart kept time with the beating Of
his own pulse, had not a drop of Indian blood in
his veins. He was one of the proscribed. surely
doomed to death at the coming of the Messiah,
unless he took warning and fled across the salt
waters in time. And should he die now—

“ Which is it. Davie?” softly breathed the
spy. quick to improve the advantage he fancied
he had won. “ Shall I kick the cover off and
call for my last supper, or will you go out for a
bit of a chatter?” '

“ Silverh ade will go—a little way,” came the
reluctant eply, his hand drawing those muf-
fling'folds tighter lest that glad chuckle reach
less friendly ears. “ Is Big Born a little boy,
that he laughs aloud when his tongue should
also sounder?”

" ho wouldn’t laugh when he’s tickled clean
through, from top to toe stem to stern, and all
the way back again! Why, Davie, boy, l’d—”

“Silence!” steme breathed the Ghost-Dan-

. oer, then drawin away the blanket-fold, to add

in a whisper: “ will go 'with you, brother, to
save your life, but it must be in my own way.
Is that good i” ‘

“ Any way, just so we get there, Davie." ‘

“ Then, hide your face in your blanket,'and
follow closely. Make no sound, say not a word
if any brave rises up to ask whither we go.
Let tg’e Shoshone answer. Does my brother
agree "

The Border Beagle nodded assent. Now that
he seemed in‘ fair way of winning the point for
which he had aimed, he could be as cautious as
he had been reckless. ‘

“ It is good,” nodded Silverblade, as he lifted
his head to cast a wary glance around them,
oVer the sleeping red-skins. “ Big Horn is not
all too! l”

Seeing nothing to indicate espial, Silverblade
silently rose to his feet, then gently kicked the
spyas a signal to rise up. It was acted upon,
and mufled in his dark blanket the Border
Beagle looked full as much the Indian as did
his young compan on.

“ Come!” whispered Silverblade, moving cau-
tiouslv away. “ If any one calls out, run for
your life, I can’t save you!”

 

‘ CHAPTER II;
SILVER-BLADE, TEE SON OF WEENAMOO.

“ ALL righ I’ll run fast enough when I
have to. An ‘if it should come to that, Davie,
don’t forget that you Jumped the game! Whoop,
and yell, and waste your cartridges like a jol y
good Injun, for.” .

“ Too much chatter l”

Silverblade emphasized that re f by a grip
on an arm with his strong it slen er fingers, and
Big Horn Buck left his sentence unfinished.
Reckless as he was. he knew that they were in a

critical position. Let one of those proverbial}! ,1
light sleepers rouse up sumciently to take note'

of their movements, and explanations would be
next in order. His dis uise was perfect, in its
Way, but he knew it Wou d not bear too close an
examination; That left only fight or flight as
an alternative,_ With Silverblade to pay the
double penalty 111 case he should succeed in mak-
in his escape. _ ‘

ith all this passing across his mind, the
Border Beagle wished for discovery as little as
did Silverblnde himself, and as they passed fur-
ther from t Ose smolderiniz fires, entering the
denser shadows, his breath came easier, and
there was a ripple of laughter in his veice as he
whispered: ‘

“I surely can’t be as bad as you try to make
out, Davie, or your guardian spirits wouldn’t
let me slip through their fingers so easily. OP.
hfive they got such a dead open-and-shut on us
poor whites. that they scorn totake conntof our
movements!” 1 . n

“ You forced me to come, or see your death,
coldly spoke Silverblade, Pausing with arms
folded across his chest. ‘ I am ere. Whpt
word has ,Big Horn for the son of Weensmooi’_

“ Heap sightmore than would be safe to spit
out so near yonder braves,” whispered Big Ho

;,Buck, with a glance of real or counterfeit un
“ Come a

'easiness in the direction of the fires.
bit further,‘~ lad.” '

Once more the young half-blood complied, but

A

 

,A A- . ..-..
-4, ~a. .

 

 

 

 

 

3

 

Silverblade, the Hostile.

 

pansin for the second time when the northern
edge 0 the level tract was neared.

‘ This is far enough, brother ” he said, check-
ing Big Horn, who showed a desire to press on
up the hillside. “Even if seen by the Sioux
warriors, they could not get here quick enough
to trap the Beagle.”

“They’d have to be mightfi' lively on foot,
that’s a fact,” nodded Big orn, though he
seemed to be reluctant to halt. “And yet—my

horse, is just across the ridge, Davie. Why
not—’
“ There is no David Woodbridge here. He is

dead. I am Silverblade, the son of Weenamoo,
and grand-son to He-That-Fights-Loug. What
does Big Horn want with the Shoshone?”

“To pull him out of the fire the devil’s stir-
ring up for just such crazy boys!” almost harshly
muttered the other, his blanket dropping to rev
veal the strong, bold face of a white man, despite
the mask of paint overlaying it.

“There is a fire, but it threatens the pale-
faces, not the red. Let Big Horn flee, for the
den er is his, not mine.”

“ till the same old song, Davie?”

“ltis truth. What my brother’s lips shape
are lies.”

“ I’d shape any other pair of lips with my fist,
for hinting that same, d’ye mind, Daviei’ with
a low, grim laugh.

“ Did Silverblade ask Big Horn to come here?
Does he bid him pause to listen, even i"

“That helps me swallow the lie you fling in
my teeth, pardner,” the spy nodded, one hand
going out to grasp that of the half-blood, his

ace and voice both proving his sincerity as he
rapidly added: “ I knew it would be as much as
my scalp was worth, to be caught playing spy
inside this camp, 'ust as matters stand, David
Woodbridge; but just had to do it! I couldn’t
stand (guietly by and see a lad like you sacrifice
himsel withouta word being said to lead him
back from the drop. And so I tell you, boy,
turn back while a chance is left you !”

“ Silverblade hours, but he does not heed. His
face is turned to the light. Why should he turn
again to the dark!”

“It’s the fires kindled by the devil himself
that makes what you cal the light, boyl”
almost harshly muttered the Border Beagle,
his grip tightening until it seemed as though
that slender hand must be crushed to a bloody
pulp. “I tell you that the end is coming
mighty fast, boy! I tell you you are doomed toa
certainty, unless you break away from these red
devils who-—”

“ Silverblade is red—all red!”

“I ask your pardon, Davie ” his voice grow-
ing milder. “I mean no sur a ainst your
mother’s race. There are good ndians, of
wig-59,, but Sitting Bull is not one of them,
an —

“Sitting Bull is my chief, my master, until
the Indian Messiah comes. Not even Big Horn
can make Silverblade listen to such hard words.”

“ All the same, they are gospel truth, and I
only hope you’ll live long enoughto find that
out, Davie. You surely can’t have changed so
much in these few weeks that you can’t re-
cognize the plain truth when it is spread before
your eyes. And so I say again: the end is draw-
ing iiear when all this bother must be paid for—
paid for in blood, tool I hate to think it, but
what else can I do?

“The time has come, Davie, when every red-
skin must come back under the wing of the law,
or pay the penalty. All mild means have been
tried, ,t’o put an end to this ghost-dancing, and
now—

“ 3 this all Big Hom came to tell. Silver-
blade!”

“ Isn’t it enough i” ,

“ If it was new, perhaps,” With a short nod.
“but it has all been spoken before, and not
once alone, but many times. Each time Silver-
blade gave Big Horn his answer. We still think
the same. The Shoshone will never change his
mind. Then— oodoby, brother!"

“ Wait, lad 1’ exclaimed the Border Beagle,
catching the half-blood by an arm as he turned
t0ward the still sleeping camp. “I have not
told you what your sister said, when I saw her
last. And your father bade me—”

“Silverblade has a mother, but no father.
That tie Was broken when the Indian Messiah
called to his child.”

“If I thought that, boy, I’d be tempted to
turn my back on ye, and let the devil claim his
own!” sternl said the spy, his eyes glowmg
vividly. “ eVer a lad had a better father than

on! Never a man had a less grateful son than

uke Woodbridge has found in his David 1”

“ You are wrong, Mr. Horton,” said the half-
blood, for once giving way to the white blood

 

which he assiduously strove to smother. “I
loved my father—I still love him—but he is all
white! He is one of those accursed by the New
Messiah, and unless he flees, as I warned him,
he must perish with the rest! And l—am Sil-
Verhlade!”

Once more the young fanatic turned toward
the camp, and once again he was checked by a
strong hand.

“Then you refuse to hear what your people
said. Davie?"

“ Not if Big Horn will tell their words. Silver-
blade only refuses to hear his religion abused.”

“ It surely needs abusmg, when it leads its dis-
ciples to certain destruction, boy," frowned the
spy, but adding quickly, in milder tones: “All
right, Davie! I’ll touch lightly on that point, if
you’ll bear me company over the ridge, to where

left my nag.”

“ Why go so far? It is safe to speak here.”

“ I can’t talk mild with those shadows smart—
ing my eyes, pardner,” flashing a glance across
the level to the tepees. “It’s too nearly morn-
ing for more sleep. Go with me that far lad.
Surely it’s not too much for me to ask of my
old friend?”

“ Once there, will it not be yet a little further,
Big Horn?”

‘ I won’t swear I’ll not ask it, but I’ll not try
to force you a foot further, Davie,” with a
short, uneasy laugh as Ins keen eyes flashed a
glance toward the eastern sk , where the light
of a new day Was making itse f visible. " Come,
brother?”

“ To your horse, then, but no further.”

Seemingly glad to win even so much Big
Horn Buck breasted the slope, closely foliowed
by the half-blood. Both were eager to pass be-
yond range of the camp, though for very differ-
ent reasons.

Alihough Buck Horton was ten ears the
older, he and David Woodbridge had ong been
close friends, and this liking had been stren th-
ened by certain evants Which had taken p ace
Within the last few months.

At that time, he who now called himself Sil-
verblade, was livin% in peace and harmony
with his parents; a hoshone mother, a white
father, on Woodbridge Ranch, near the Canada
line. Then the ghost-dance craze was spread

that far, by emissaries of Sitting Bull and'

others among the discontented Sioux, and the
half- blood, barely twenty years of age, was
quickly infected with the mad fever, and finally
oined a delegation selected by the Crees, the
hoshones, the Grosventres and Bannocks, to
seek out the fabled Indian Messiah, with one
who claimed to be a chosen mouthpiece of the
Coming Man.

This was Wah-pa-doo-tah, or Red Leaf, of
the Brule Sioux, accordin to his own account;
but Big Horn Buck dec ared that he was a
white man in disguise, and father to a certain
John Godfrey, who led an evil gang to rob and
murder Luke Woodbridge, and abduct his
daughter, Enola.

This outrage was foiled by the Border Beagle,
as the detective was called, but Wah-pwdoo—tah
escaped, to turn up later as an introducer of a
fictitious Messiah to Silverblade and his delega-

ion.

In answer to questions put him by the crafty
chief of the Grosventres, the false Messiah
declared that the pale-faces should all be
destroyed at his coming, while every one of red
blood Should be resurrected, to enjoy eternal
life and unbroken bliss. And so, after partly
retracing their steps homeward, the delegation
resolved to advise their pe0ple to wait patiently
for the millennium, since they could gIain nothing
more by joining Sitting Bull, as the ndian Mes-
Blah adViseds _

At that, failing to change their prudent
resolution, Silverblade left the delegation, and
hastened to offer his services to the mighty
medicine-man of the Unkpapas. I

It was on his way to Standing Rock Agency
that he luckily found Big Horn Buck in the
power of a gang of cut—throats, who were try-
ing to hasten the outbreak by plundering the
Friendlies. Silverblade partly repaid the debt
he owed the Border Beagle, by rescuing him
from Dave Darnell’s gang; but When safety was
won, he once more firmly refused to turn back
to his home, and pressed on to Join Sitting Bull’s
band of ghost-dancers. ,

Doubtless something of all this was passing
through the minds of the two friends as they
crossed the rid e and made their way toward
the spot where ig Horn Buck had left his horse
before venturing into Sitting Bull’s camp on the
Grand. And no doubt these reflections helped
each to bear with the other in the event soon to
come.

 

“ Silverblade has come so far, but his foot

oes not beyond,” quietl spoke the one

hoshone, as they pause near the te he
horse.

“I’m thankful for that much, Davie,” was
the swift response. “ I’d be almost too happy
to live, if I could coax you to go still further 1’

“ Your road is not mine, Big Horn.”

“ And if you Were any one else, I’d be
mighty glad of it, too! For, Davie, lad can’t
you see where your road is leading youi Are
you so utterly blind that you can’t realize what
is ahead of you, unless you turn aside while
there is time? Death, I tell you! Don’t you
know that the soldiers are flocking in, by whole
regiments? Can’t you see that its worse than
madness to even dream of fi htingi Why, boy,
even if every soul of the ioux tribes were to
take to the war-path, they’d beonly a single
mouthful for the soldiers!”

“ So Long Hair thought, but Sitting Bull was
the one to laugh, when all was over.”

“ And he took precious good care not to risk
his carcass where a bullet mi ht jump all the
laugh out of him, too! But he 8 had his turn at
laughing, and now—”

“ What do you mean, Big Horni” sternly de—
manded Silverblade, gazing keenly into that
stern face by the increasing light.

“I mean that he’ll have to ay the penalty
for kickingI up this nasty rac et, of course, ’
muttered orton, abruptly chan ing his man—
ner, conscious of having betray too much for
prudence with his aim still unwon. “ I’d shout
glory to t at, only for you. lad, and a few other

onest simpletons who’ve been led astray by the
craze.”

“Listen, Big Horn. You call this a craze.
You say I am a fool. I say you are the mad
onei For a long time I doubted. I wanted to
believe and have faith, but I could not smother
my white blood, so soon. I prayed to know
more. I prayed that my eyes might be opened
to the truth, whether for good or for evil. And
my rayers were answered!

“ stood face to face with the Indian Messiah.
I doubted him, even then, until he graciously
gave me the proof I needed. I saw, I heard, I

new! I went thrre a sick-hearted doubter. I
came away, with my heart overflowing with
faith, a profound believer. Now—can you still
ask me to turn aside? Can you still beg of me
to stray back to the White-man’s Road?”

“ I do beg it, Davie, for your sister and your
father’s sake, if not for your own. Your life,
if not their lives, depends on your next step. If
you listen to reason and turn ack—”

“I listen to the voice of the Messiah, and
press on!”

Big Born Buck cast another uneasy glance to-
ward the eastern sky, already growing rosy
with the rays of the climbing sun. He seemed
strangely uneasy, and as Silverblade made a
movement as though to turn away on his way
back to Sitting Bull’s camp, he shot out an arm
and gripped the youth by a shoulder, hastily
muttering:

“ Wait, Davie, lad! Don’t go yet, for I’ve not
toldryou) the messages your people sent you by
my me.

“ There is no time for further talk, brother.
The sun is rising on a new day, and there is
plenty work for—”

Silverblade broke off abruptly, with a shiver
and a gasping cry.

For, across the range came a faint, shrill cry
closely folloived by the sound of firearms, all
coming from the cam of Sitting Bull!

“Too late, Daviel’)’ cried Big Horn, with
gloomy delight in face and voice as he caught
the he f-blood by each arm. “Sitting Bull is
dead,”or a prisoner to the Indian police by this
time!

 

CHAPTER III.
SITTING BULL’s LAST SLEEP.

ANOTHER camp, on that same night, but in
on! one respect does it resemble that under
Sit ing Bull: it is composed of Indians.

Where the ghost-dancers Were sleeping, these
were never more widely awake. Where the fol-
lowers of the Unkpa a high priest had cast
aside everything of pa e-face manufacture save
their firearms and knives and hatchets, these
warriors. none the less of Indian blond, wore the
livery of Uncle Sam in reater or less degree,
and seemed pr0ud of the r brass buttons.

In a word, a camp of the Indian police.

The horses were near at hand, but their tra -

ings had not been removed and they seemed,
like their masters, only awaiting the signal to
take the road.

Nearly hidden by the rocks nnd bushes
burned a small fire, around which were grouped

 

 

Silverblade, the Hostile.

 

 

 

half a dozen men in blankets, for the most part
smoking their pipes, yet betraying a restlessness
foreign to the traditional red-man.

“ Do they think Sitting Bull is a soldier, who
never knows he has bad sleep enough until the
horn blows?" growled one of the number, fling-
ing out his left hand with an impatient gesture.

“ They think it is always time, until it is too

“It will be time for a race, not an arrest,”

mbled still a third. “ Why are we waiting,

ull Head 1”

The eyes of the last speaker, together with
those of his comrades, turned upon the one who
just then rose to his feet, leaning forward one
ear bent with a curved palm behind it, in een
listening. Only for a single breath, then his
muscular form drew erect and with what was
nearly a laugh of grim pleasure, he made an-
swer:

“ For what is coming, brothers!”

There was no call for explanation, for their
trained ears had also caught the far-away echo
of hoofstrokes falling rapidly on the frozen
ground, and they knew that the signal for which
they had been waiting so long and anxiously,
was near at hand.

Bull Head lieutenant of the Indian police
stationed at Standing Rock Agency, advanced
to meet the rider—for those boo -beats were
now near enough to be counted, and they came
from a single animal.

“ We are waiting— ’Tis you, Gray Eagle?”

The title came in a tone of strong surprise, as
though Bull Head had expected an altogether
different person; but the reply was prompt
enough, as the reckless rider jerked his steaming
horse back upon its baunches:

“ ’Tis Gravangle, yes! You looked for Louis
Primeau? ell, he might have brought the
same word but he would not have asked to join
you, Bull Head, as a policeman.”

“ What is the word you bring, Gray Eagle?”

“ To do your duty 1” came the swift response.

“ And that is?”

“ To arrest Sitting Bull, dead or alive!”

“ You bring this word, Gray Eagle?”

“ I bringvthis word, and I will help you make
it good! by not? Is wron right, just be-
cause the squaws of Sittin Bul bad the same
mother as Gray Eagle? 9 is a dog that has
been barkin too long. He is too big a coward
to bite with is own teeth, but he makes other
:eethpyery sharp, and very hungry. So—c't is
mic

“ The soldiers are co'nin , then?”

“They are coming, an their captain bade
Gray Eagle sa this to Bull Head: Arrest Sit-
ting Bull. If e is wise, good. If he is foolish,
better!”

Even now Bull Head seemed hardly satisfied
that the brother-in-law of the Unkpapa hi h
Briest could be thoroughly in earnest, though 9

ad long known that there was no great love
lost between the ir. But the im chieftain
seemed determin to banish the set lingering
doubt, for he leaned closer to the lieutenant of
police to whisper:

“ And Sitting Bull must be made to act fool-
ish! Alive, he would still be a poison-thorn,
but dead—then he would be a good Injun, for
our side! Is it not so, brother?"

“ You would shoot him, then, if he tried to
run away?”

“ Why wait to see him start! He is old. He
has had his time. He keeps calling for the New
refiiah. Well—send him to find what he prays
or.

Before Bull Head could make reply tothis
sanguinary hint, his first sergeant, Shave Head,
came forward to ask:

“Is it bad word? We are to turn back,
now?”

“The word is good, and we go on,”curtly
spoke the lieutenant, then bidding Gray Eagle
re eat his report.

hat did not consume much time. He had left
Fort Yates in compan with two troops of cav-
alry, under common of Captain Fouchet at
midnight (Dec. 14, ’90). The soldiers, num r-
ing one hundred, were ided by Louis Primeau,
a half-blood Sioux, an head farmer for the In-
dians located at Standing Rock Agency

Having covered a sufi‘lcientfnum her 0 the forty
odd miles, to make sure he could cover the dis-
tance in good time, Captain Fouchet sent Gray
Eagle on ahead, to bid the police under Bul
Head make the arrest without unnecessary de-
lay. In case the misguided followers of Sitting
Bull should show fight, or attem t to rescue
their high priest, the cavalry woul support the
oflcers in performing their sworn duty.

When Gray is ceased speakin , there was
a brief silence. ull Head bade h men pre-

 

pare for the road, and then their tongues began
to wag. Not one, but nearly all made grimly
j0cose predictions that Sitting Bull would be ta-
ken—not living, but dead I”

Where every unit is of the same mind, a body
moves rapidly, and tbose‘few remaining miles
were swiftly covered. There was no sign of
dawn to be detected in the East, when the In-
dian police drew rein less than half a mile from
the edge of Sitting Bull’s camp, sending a cou-
ple of scouts ahead on foot, to make sure the
crafty old medicine-man had not added one more
triumph over his enemies to his already long
string of victories; but that fear was quickly
set at rest.

The camp was not deserted. The skin tepees
were occupied, bucks lay around the smolder—
ing fires, ponies were tethered hard by. Sitting
Bull was sleeping his last sleep.

“ It is good—very good!” grimly uttered Bull
Head, as he received this re rt. “ Sitting
Bull bade his followers prepare or a lon ride
when the sun came up again. He sai they
must go to the Bad Lands, at once. Well. Sit-
ting ull must show them the right trail; he
shall be the first to o to the ‘ Bad Landl’ ”

There came a su ued lau h at this grim jest,
but each member of that nd—-onl a score
in all—gave his pistols and Winc ester re-
peater a careful examination before taking an-
other step.

They knew what they had to expect. They
knew that, unless Sitting Bull himself bade his
followers stand back, in ace, a desperate fight
lay before them. The ds would be heavy; at
least five to one, without counting news or
half-grown youths. If it came to a gbt, and
the soldiers failed to arrive in time tosupport
them, they knew hardly one of their number
could count on escaping with life.

Yet, not a man of the twent faltered or
hung back when Bull Head pass the word to
advance, to surround the log cabin in which
they all knew the medicinechief had his head-
quarters.

No time was wasted in giving orders. Each
one of the police knew what was to be done, and
was ready to carry out his part of the ugly job.
And so, without a sound to waken one of those
dance-worn warriors, the police stole forward,
surrounding the rude shack of logs, their wea-
pons drawn ready for instant use.

By this time the day was dawning. The east-
ern sky was turning red with the beams of the
risin sun, and surrounding objects were dis-
tinct y visible to those trained eyeS.

With a silent gesture Bull Head motioned his
chosen men to follow close] , then lifted the
blanket which hung across t e opening cut in
the logs of the cabin, as a doorway. He
the blanket over a projecting knot, thus letting
more light into the single room, exposing to
view the slumbering priest, his squaws, and a
half-grown son.

With a swift step, Bull Head gained the
side of the medicine-man, rudely graSping him
by 1:11 arm, giving him an upward jerk as he
spo e:

“I arrest on, Sitting Bull! Get up, dress,
and come wit me i”

The chief, bewildered by this abrupt waken—
ing, stared at those dimly visible shapes with a
dazed expression on his wrinkled face. He
mumbled something—even their keen ears failed
to distinguish just what, for one of the squaws
giving a shrill screech of terror and rage, rushed
out o the cabin before a band could check her

ate 8.

She gave the alarm, screaming shrilly, urging
the startled bucks to rally and rescue their high

riest. And then a shot was. fired—it stung

ull Head keenly. He did not wait to learn
from what quarter it came, but instantly shot
Sitting Bull. And almost at the same instant
another of the police, Red Tomahawk, also shot
the now struggling prisoner. And, with one
bullet in his brain, the other in his body, Sitting
Bull fell limply from their hands, even as they
dragged him across the threshold and into the
open air. .

All this took place with the rapidity of
thought, but even so soon the ghost-dancers
were rallying, rushing to the rescue of their
chief, wielding each the weapon that first came
to hand.

The Indian police drew together, showing
what discipline will do, even with such natural-
ly lawless material. Shoulder to shoulder they

stood, firing rapidly yet with marvelous coolness
in the face of such heavy odds, not one betray-
ing a wish to flee or take cover while the voice
of their chief remained silent.

That fierce rush was checked, then the ghost-
dancers were driven back, in confusion. They

 

lacked a head, as yet, and could hardly be said
to know what had or was happening.

Bull Head, staggering and sick with his-
wound, forced his way to the front, flashing a
glance around, as though summing up their
chances. The situation could hardly have been
more critical, and his brain was yet sufficiently
clear to see the impracticability, of making
their way back to their horses, incumbered as
thgy were with the body of Sitting Bull.

here was but one hope, and that be promptly
“ l” he cried, givmg the nearest policeman
a shove that sent him out of the grim line.
“ Ride fast—bring soldiers! Say Bull Head
will hold Sitting Bull, dead or alivel”

The Indian darted forward at the Word, firing
as he ran. But a bullet from the rifle of Little
Assinaboine laid him low in death.

“ Go you I” thundered Bull Head, pushing an-
other man forward with his left hand. at the
same time shooting Little Assinaboine through
the brain with the revolver in his right. “ Open
a way for him, brothers! Sitting Bull loved the.
dance—send him real ghosts to amuse him in
the Bad Lands!”

 

CHAPTER IV.
SILVERBLADE, THE HOSTILE.

As the young Shoshone caught those ominous
sounds from the camp out of which he had been so
adroitly decoyed, a hoarse, gasping cry escaped
his lips, and he was taken with a shivering fit.
that tem orarily robbed him of his strength.

“ I ha to do it Davie!” cried Big Horn Buck,
as he grasped his one-time pard by the arms,
with t e purpose of holding him back from a
suicidal rush across the range. “ I couldn’t!
save on in any other way, and so 1—”

“ on knew—you led those devils to— Hands
off l” with sudden fierceness, his limp muscles
hardening, his eyes fairly afiame as he grappled
with the etective.

“ Don’t—you can’t help—”

“ Then I can die with Sitting Bull!”

Buck HortOn was a man in the prime of life,
gifted by nature with far more than average.
strength of body. His muscles had been tough-
ened by a free, wild, actiVe life, and in his rare
moments of boasting, be had proudly declared
that never yet had he met his master in feats of
strength or of skill.

Compared with him, the half-blood was but a
stripling: tall, but slender, his arms showmg
but slight muscular development, his waist
round and slender almost as that of a growing
maiden. But ' now—it was not a boy, but a
demon of steel-like nerve and activity that
firapfiled with the Border Beagle; and before

ig orn Buck could even begin to put forth his
strength, those slender legs were twined around
his, tripping him up, hearing him backward, to
strike the frozen ground With a sickening jar.

Even then the older man might have turned
the tables and accomplished the end for which
he had risked his life, but in falling, his head
came in contact With a rock, and though his
skull was partially protected by a fold of the
heavy blanket, the shock was sufiicient to kill
an ordinary man.

His muscles relaxed, and he lay a quivering
heap wholly at the mercy of the infuriated half-
bl

“ Devil!” snarled Silverblade, his fingers sink-
ing deep into that muscular throat, as _he drew
up his knees to plant them on the shivering arms
of the Border Beagle. “ I trusted ou—you
betrayed me! You stole my hanor— ’1] drink
your blood!”

He freed his right hand, using it to snatch a
gleaming knife from its beaded sheath. The
weapon rose above his bead, then shot down-
war .

Buck Horton was helpless. That heavy blow
had robbed him of all consciousness. Even had
his arms been free, he could not have lifted a
fin er to save himself. Yet—he did not die!

ilverblade was unable to entirely check that
vicious blow, once it began to fall, but his hand
turned aside, and the keen blade clove the
frozen earth in place of the brain it had been
aimed at.

Once more the white blood which Silverblade
bad so long fought against, gained the upper
hand. That hideous red mist passed from before
his eyes, and with a shivering gasp, he left the
knife sticking in the ground, springing to his feet,
then reeling dizzily back from that unconscious
form, boarsely panting:

“ I can’t—I called b m brother! I can’t kill—"

Only for the trunk of a tree against which
he staggered in his temporary blindness, Silver-

.e ._

 

 

 

  

 

.-_‘L_.,..

-V-“ nan-“Vam‘.

 

v
.‘V—J“

 

'  blade must have fallen to earth. As it was, he

   

leaned against that support, shivering violent-
ly, sick at heart, his brain in a dizzy whirl of
mad confusion.

But then, dimly at first, growing louder, plain-
er, the sounds of desperate fighting at the camp
of Sitting Bull forced its way to his brain, and
with a choking gasp, he rallied his bodily
powers.

He never so much as cast a glance toward
“the man whom he had overthr0wn in that mo-
ment of madness. He had ears, thoughts, only
for what was taking place across the range:
the pOSt which he had deserted, just when his
presence might have been the most valuable!

“The police!” he cried, and with that word
the mists seemed to break away from his brain,
and with a shrill, fierce yell, the Shoshone sped
up the slope, bent on saving his master or shar-
ing his fate.

More time had passed than Silverblade as
yet realized. To him that period of awful diz-
ziness just now seemed no more than the span of
a single breath; but it‘had been long enough for
hot and bitter work to be wrought down yonder
where Sitting Bull had mustered his ghost-dan-

cers.

Silverblade began to realize something of this
as he gained the ridge, from which his first
glimpse of the battle-ground could be won; for
now the Indian police apparent] y were in a state
of siege, having taken full possession of the
log cabin and a few of the nearer tepees,
out of which they were firing at the yell-
ing, screeching ghost-dancers, who seemed
afraid to clase in and end the fight by one
deadly struggle. .

“ The deVIls have killed Sitting Bull l” was the
first thought that flashed through the brain of
the young Shoshone as be marked the situation;
and he did not take time for 'another, but
dashed at reckless speed down that rock-
strewn slope, sending his shrill war-cry in ad-
vance.

A bullet hissed past his face as he sped across
the level tract, but he paid no attention to this.
Instead of seeking cover, as the majority of the
hostiles had done, Silverblade rushed straight
across to where his keen eye had recognized one
of the chieftains who had Sworn allegiance to
Sitting Bull: Thunder Strike, the Brule.

“ Where is Sitting Bull?” he hoarsely demand-
ed, to shrink back with a gasping cry as the
grim old warrior replied: _

“ In yonder, dead or a captive!”

No need of the gesture which indicated the
log shack. Silverblade realized the ver worst
now, and it seemed to clear his brain an. steady
his nerves, so sorely shaken by that terrible mis-
fortune. I , _

“ There are others in yonder l” he said, With a
laugh and backward toss of his head, as a bullet
plucked at his long, loose hair.

“Bull Head’s police—yes! Down, or they’ll
count yet another coup !” harshly muttered the
chief, jerking the half~blood behind the sweat-

' lodge that afforded his own body an imperfect
cover.

Silverblade made no reply. He was peering
through a break in the woven willOWs, summing
up the situation with a celerity that proved him
a natural fighter. And having done this, he
was no less prompt to act on what he saw.

“We must rescue our father if living, avenge
him it dead, chief l”

“ But how? ’Tis sure death to close in, with-
out cover, and—” .

“ Then we must die 1” came the fierce retort.
“If we hold back like this, soldiers will come,
and sweep all before them! 1 Will make cover
for my brothers! Let_them watch—Twain, act!”

Before Thunder Strike could uivme his pur-
pose, Silverblade s rung 1'“ his [993 and ran to
the nearest camp- re, where the butts of l§s
and sticks were now sulleuly blazmg. e
caught up one brand in each hand, swinging
them about his head until the flames shot out
with a crackling roar, He sounded his war-
cry, then darted straight toward the 1:5 shack,
the open doorway of which was v0.11 by the
blue smoke of burnt powder. .

' “Here is cover, brothers! Fight the devils
with ”flre! Charge, and avenge our father,
' for—

The blazing brands shot away as his grip 1'9-
laxed at a volley of shots from the shack.
And without even a death-cry or groail.,3i1V6r-
blade the Hostile, fell forward upon his face,
red blood marking the little patch of snow 1!]
which his face was half buried! ,

It was a madly bold attempt, and though
many of the ghost-dancers caught at the idea-_—
knew that it surely must prove successful if

once the cabin could be set. on fire—not another ,

 

among them all was ready to offer up a like
sacrifice.

For sacrifice it must be, even if the one mak-
ing the effort should succeed in firing the build-
ing. He could not escape with life, from all
those firearms! ’1

They sent a storm of lead upon the shack,
yelled fiercely, cursed savagely after the white
man’s fashion. And then—the chaince was lost
forever! .

For yonder sounds the call of a trumpet, and
knowing that soldiers are coming to support the
Indian police, the ghost-dancers, bucks, squuWS
and puppooses, all break away for their ponies,
mounting in hot haste, and dashing up Grand
River, bound for the Bad Lands]

The second policeman sent forth by Bull Head
had done his work right well, meeting the cav-
alry under Captain Fouchet, and urging them
to full speed even while making his report.

Rapidly as the soldiers rode, they reached the
battle-ground too late to take part in the fight.
With ponies prepared for the journey to the
Bad Lands, With everything made ready the
night before, the hostiles were already out of
sight, and safe from pursuit on their fresh
ponies.

“ Sitting Bull is here,” reported Bull Head,
making the :i‘egulation salute, himself a true
soldier, despite his four wounds.

“ A prisoner?”

“ Yes. The best sort of prisoner,” was the
grim response. '

The once p0werful high priest of the Unkpa-
pas was a corpse, and while there may be some
just comments made on 1: 1e manner of his kill;
ing, very few who have kept his bloody, treach-
erous, evil record in view, will ever let faJla
word of blame for his Slayers.

He was only partly clothed, and as Gray

Eagle, among others, stood gazin upon the
lifeless body, that loving brother-in- w grimly
sen :

“ He was a great medicine-man. He said he

was very wise. He lied! He was a poor fooll”

“ Quiet, chief!” frowmd-the captain. “ He is
dead, and—”

“ Why he never put on ghost-shirt, to turn
bullet, eh?” chuckled the savage, turning away
with a shrug of his blanketed shoulders. “ That
wily Gray Eagle say—him big fool!”

hough IaSIing barely half an hour, from the
first shot to the last, it had not been a bloodless
victory for the brave squad of police. Now
that they had time for breath, time to sum up
their losses, more than one fiercely smiling face
turned grave and sad. For, of the twenty
Indian police who attempted that arrest, four
were killed outright, and three others badly
wounded.

Bull Head had received four wounds, and his
first Sergeant, Shave Head, fatally injured.

Despite their hasty flight, the hostiles had car-
ried ofli an unknown number of their wounded,
besides leaving Sitting Bull and son, Crow

Foot, and five other corpses on the battle-.

ground.

The soldiers were busy collecting the ponies
left behind by the escaping ghost-dancers—many
of them painted and decked fo the war-path-
when Big Horn Buck, the Bor er Beagle, came
3 gering across the range.

e was still feeling the effects of his fall,
and his face was a grim mask of paint and
b100d: but he apparently had no care for him-
Self. He hardly paused to make himself known
when sternly challenged by one of the soldiers
on guard, but passed along to where the dead
Indians had been ranged in a double row.

Be fairly held his breath while making that
swift examination, for he felf'almost certain he
would find Silverblade among the slain. And
when he failed to see the face he feared, he
reeled away, fairly sick with the reaction.

Partly to rally, partly to remove his paint,
Big Horn Buck passed over to the river, the
cold bath greatly refreshing him, while making
him far more presentable, as a white man.

When this was done, and while preparations
were being made for removing the dead and the
injured to’ the Agency, Horton passed among
the police engaged in the fight, seeking to learn
.something about his young friend if possible.
He did; from the lips of grim Bull l’iead

Though so seriously wounded, the'lieutenant
of police had taken note of everything within
his range of vision, and he had not overlooked
that desperate attempt made by the half-blood.

“ Silverblade is dead. I shot him. He was a
man, though but a bov. If all the ghost-
dancers had been like Silverblade, we would
have been eaten up, long before the soldiers
came ufi.” I

Big orn Buck turned away With 5" Sinking

w

 

£1

heart, but even yet he would not despair. Until
he stood beside his corpse, he would think of his
boy-Xard as living;

‘ nd I’ll save im from himself, even yet! I

swear it!” he voweo.

 

CHAPTER V.
THE GHOST 0F SITTING BULL.

“ WHAT is it, orderly l”

“ A runchman, general, who claims that his
business is of the utmost importance.”

“ To himself, no doubt. Tell him to wait. I’m
engaged, just now.” '

The orderly turned about on his heel with the
regulation salute, but before he could withdraw,
another voice uttered the words:

“ Hold on, parduerl And you, general, don’t
try to make company out of me. I can wait.
And it’s from just such callers as this that you’d
ought to pick up your mast reliable news.”

“ It’s another complaint about stolen stock or
fired hay-stacks,” frowned the officer, but glanc-
ing toward the orderly, to add: “Did the fellow
let drop his business, sergeant?”

“ Not in my hearing, general. ‘Unless—”

“ Go on,” frowned his superior, as the orderly
paused with just the shade of a smile flitting
across his well-schooled face.

“ He said something about Sitting Bull’s ghost,
general, I believe.”

“Then it’s a drunkard instead of a fool?”

“ Maybe not, general,” ventured the other
Occupant of the room, adding in swift, earnest
tones: “ This fitsin with the report I was mak-
ing, «General Miles, and if I might advise—”

“ Show the fellow in, sergeant. See if you
know him, Horton,” in lower tones, as the orderly
left the room. “ If he should be one of the gun
you started to tell about, just slip outside an
bring in the guard. Understand?

Big Horn Buck nodded assent. There was no
chance for more. The heavy trampling told of
an approach, and as the Border Beagle fell to
one side, partly bending over an unfolded map
lying on a desk, the sergeant ushered in a
burly ranchman, who seemed ill at ease in the

resence of that stately representative of Uncle
am.

“ You may go, sergeant. And you, sir, what

can I do for you?”

“Waal, giner’l, ’tain’t so mi hty much me
as.’tis——rope my hind laig ef I now jest what
it is!” splattered the stockman, dropping the
cowboy hat which he was clumsily twirling in
his fingers, then slapping a heavy foot upon it
as though he expected a gust of wind to send
it whirling far away over his accustomed
prairies. x

“Steady, pardner!”_ came in swift warning
from the Border Beagle, who had come to
know what that dark frown meant. “ Tighten

our cinch, or you’ll catch an everlasting dump.

how your brand, then round up on the jump.
Saba ?”

“Do you know this man?” asked General
Miles, turning toward ,the border detective.

“ Not by name, but his pedigree’s all ri ht, or
his face has. Read up, pardnerl What 0 you
know about Sitting Bull’s ghost?”

This was hardly “ according to Gunter,” and
had another man taken such a liberty, the
chances are that he would have met with a snub,
if nothing worse. But as the embarrassed stock-
nian caught quickly at the hint flung out, Gen-
eral Miles let that infraction pass, for the pres- ‘
out, at least. ‘

“Thar ye hev it, iner’ll An’ 9! ’tain’t his
ghost, then what in no y time kin it be!”

“ Do ou claim to have seen the ghost of Sit-
ting Bu 1, sir?” ‘ . _

“ I claim to hev see’d somethm’, giuer’l, an’ of
’tain’t a ghost, then I hain’t the only fool up our
wa .”

“yWhat way is that?”

“ Up on the Bad. You see giner’l, I’ve got a
much up yau’ way, an? though thar’s bin a pesky
sight 0’ skeery talk flym’ through the air, 0 late
I bed too much wu’th layin’ ’round loose, an’ I
jest made out I never hear’n nothin’. an stuck
to my sawin’ wood. ’Course I heard tell 0’ old
Bull’s ketchin’ his mortal, an’ I did taketimo
fer one whoop o’ glary, but then I layed like I
wasn’t Elindin’ whfither ‘school East or riot;
Fer, e now, giner , tharsa good ' gri o
Injuil’s on an’ nigh to the Bad. A115 thou h
they’ve hild_purty stiddy, as ylt, I cain’t rl ht
say they hain’t bin doin’ right smart o’tal in’.

“ You mean the Two Kettle Sioux?” -

“ Them’s the ones, giner’l.”

“I havs them marked as friendly and re»
liable.”

“Waal, I reckon that didn’t flatter ’em so
turrible much, giner’l, up to a couple days On. .
by,” nodded the ranchnian, now feeling on-

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

oughly at home, and‘ lainly relishing his chat
with such a high officia . “ but now—a mighty
sight 0’ harm kin be kicked up in a hurry,
boas!”

“You mean to say that the Two Kettles are
breaking faith?”

“ Waal, not quite so bad as that, giner’l. An’
yit, I don t know!”

“ Then why are you here?” sharply interposed
General Miles, fr0wning stern! y. “ Oi'derlyi”

“ Here, general !"

“ Show this fellow out, but keep an eye on him
while he finds out just what errand brought him
here. When he knows what he wants to say,
bring him in again. That will do.”

“ But, giner’l—J’

Genera Miles had already turned to Bi
Buck, and the orderly sergeant deftly
the bewildered ranchman out of the mom.

“Go on, Horton. You were saying?”

“ Somethin that would have led me into your
Bogardus—kic er, general, I’m afraid,” laughed
the Border Bea 19, with a slight nod toward the
door, beyond w rob the ranchman was still try-
ing to expostulate.

‘Not you,” with a passing smile. “ There’s
only one method of dealing with such cattle,
unless time is a drug on one’s hands. That is to
scare the main fact out in a lump, then guess at
the fragments.”

“ I suppose you do hit the truth, once in a
while generali’

“ Why not invariably?” smiling despite him-
self, at that look of childlike innocence.

“ Because it isn’t human nature,” with a sharp
nod. “ I set that fellow on the right trail, and
if you had humored him just a bit, he’d have

iven in his report, straight as a string, if a bit
engthy, and then went away ready to swear
you were a little tin joss on ten wheels. But
now—m report, general 2" ‘

Big orn Buck tersely narrated the events
leading up to the death of Sitting Bull. Not
that the genei'l was hearing the news for the
first time, but a. military report is one thing,
that of a confidential scout quite anothwr.

“ It was a put-up job, of course,” said Horton,
In conclusion. “ The police never intended tak-
ing Sitting Bull alive. Three times their force
couldn’t have done that, without Bull’s helpi
them 01!. They went there to kill the ol
sinner, and his followars simply played right
into their hands, from the jump-off.”

‘(flI’i’r’e seen the order sent to Fort Yates,
an .—

“I don’t even hint that the soldiers knew
what was in the wind, until all was over,
general,” quickly slipped in the scout. “But,
even if they did. it was best and wisest. While
Bull lived, Peace was impossible. With him
dead—well, had brighter hopes than I have
now, if the truth must be told. Bull dead, will
give us more trouble than Bull living, unless
the ri' ht means are taken to lay his gho t!”

“ on. sing that foolish song, Horton ’laugh-
ed Miles, scornfully. ' ‘

“ l’ve lenty of company, general, as I’ll prove
to on, i you’ll give me permission to talk a bit
wi b that ranchman.”

“ What about?”

“Nothing more than to put his trouble into
shape. He wouldn’t have come so far for no-
thing, general. May I fetch him in?”

General Miles nodded assent, though there
was a. skeptical smile on his faceas the detec-
tive crossed the room.

He was not kept long in waiting. The door
opened, and after the indispensahe elute, the
orderly ushered in the two men.

“ This is Tom Hetliind, general,” said Horton,
gravely introducin the abashed stocktnan,
who meekly bowed fore that martial figure.
“ He brin an important report from Bad
Rive?” an only await. your permission to

93%,; - i
_ hat is it, my good fellowi’ .

Brief as had been his absence, Big Horn Buck
had put the minutes to good use, as was now evi-
denced. Hetlund came to the point without de-
lafior beating around the bush.

9 was runnin a stock ranch near the Bad.
A division of the ioux, known as the Two Ketc
tle band, were stationed not far from his place.
Up to the» killing of Sitting Bull, they had re-
mained fr1e_ndly, taking no part in the ghost-
dancing which had spread on all sides of them.

But on the night of the 18th December, or
. three days after the death of Sitting Bull, a

number of the tribe were returning home from
'a friendly gathering, when they witnessed a
truly startling spectacle.
A bright light called their attention to the not
distant ills, and as they were trying to make
out its nature, all were amazed by seeing what

Horn
ustled

 

 

appeared to be the illuminated figure of an In-
dian, hovering just clear of the crest.

Then. as they stored in speechless wonder the
vision began jumping or floating from hill-top
to hill~top, passing through the air like a slug-
gish meteor, all the time makin emphatic signs
in the direction of the Bad ands, as though
urging the petrified spectators to flee thither
without further delay.

“And how did they know this marvelous
vision was the ghost of Sitting Bull?” asked Gen-
eral Miles, his full lips curling.

“Thar was them in the gang as knowed him
better’n the knowed thar own faces, giner’l,”
gravely no ded the ranchman. “ An’ they
broke out in a heap, callin’ the critter Sitting
Bull—no less!” _

“ And you really put faith in this bobgoblin,
Hetlundi‘

“ The Two Kettles do, anyhow,” his eyes
drooping doggedly. “ They spread the news in
a hurry, an’ when the sun come up, rope me fer
a maverick ef the hull herd wasn’t turned
ghost-dancers! An’ ef they don’t do heap sight
wuss’n dance—of they don’t take to makio us
lonesome critters dance to bloody muswl—then
we’re in mighty sight bigger luck’n I ever hope
to hit on l” -

“You think they intend breaking away, to
join the hostiles?” asked General Miles, im-
pressed in a degree by that gloomy earnest-

noes.

“Ef they don’t, ’twon’t be fer lack o’ urgln’,
giner’l. Ghost or no ghost, that thing keeps
peggiu’ aWay at ’em, ever night. An’—-mebbe

ou’ll reckon I was tfi'un , boss, when I say it,
ut—I’ve see’d the darn thing with my own
two lookin’ eyes i”

“ Sitting Bull’s ghost?”

“ I’ve see’d the thing, ghost or no ghost. I
tuck a couple shots at it, short range, too! An’
when them never even fazed the critter, I up an’
broke fer Rapid City, an’ you, giner’l!”

There could be no doubting the fellow’s perfect
earnestness as he uttered these words, and Gen—
eral Miles was swift to say:

“ I thank you for coming, Hetlund. Keep all
this to yourself. Don’t get to talking it over,
even with your nearestifriend, until I’ve given
you permissmn. , You understand i”

Hetlund nodded assent, and after receiving
orders to report twice each day to the orderly,
General Miles dismissed the ranchman.

“Well, Horton, what do you make of it?” he
asked, turning abruptly upon Big Horn Buck, a
half sneer, half frown marking his strong face.

“ If on ask my candid opinion, general, I’ll
say this much: Sitting Bull dead, is oing to
make you army gentlemen a mi hty sig t more
trouble than he ever did while iving: and that
is needless.” v

“ Of course it is only another cunning trick,
but—who hatched itv out? I’d giVe a month’s
salary to know just that l” .

“ It may cost ’a great deal more than that
sum, to say nothing of good lives that can be
less easily spared, general,” seriously spoke up
the Border Beagle. “ You know what Bu 1
claimed, in life: that he was the chosen re re-
sentative of the Indian Messiah, empower to
act as snch, until the time was fully ripe for his
advent?”
re; So I’ve heard. Of course the old rascal
1 O
“ Which don’t take the keen edge off, all the
same! And so I say it over: unless that ghost
is laid, and well laid, too, Sitting Bull is going
to make us all still worse trouble than .we’ve
had, up to date.”

“ How can a ghost be laid that is no ghost at
alll Who can do it? Even if one were self-confi-
dent enough to tr , how and where could he find
a startingopoint?’ _ .

Big Horn Buck listened in silence, a faint
smile creeping into his strong face as he watched
the omoer striding to and fro. But as General
Milies paused to meet his gaze, Horton coolly
” e

l . ‘
“I’ll take the if you 've me carte
blanche, general.” jO‘b’ g1

CHAPTER VI.
, 'rna BORDER Bnaom’s THEORY.
“YOU will?” ejaculated General Miles, his
eyes opening widely. ‘
“ With your permission, sir, I will,” bowed
H rton, calmly. ‘
ora full minute their eyes met, but the Bor-
der Beagle never flinched, and the general knew
he was not'speakin at random, wild as his pro-
pOsal might otherw se appear.
“You know something about this spook busi-
ness then, Horton?" , .
“ never heard that Bull was walking the

\

 

earth in spirit shape, if that’s our meaning,
general,” with a little laugh. “ ntil Hetluiid
opened his budget, I fancied Bull was where I
saw him planted: under six good feet of solid
earth.”

General Miles took a seat, signing the border
detective to do the same. Then he spoke again:

“Outwith it Horton! You’ve got a theory
of some sort. If you don’t know, you suspect.
What is it?”

“ Have you an hour or so to spare, general?”

“ Two of them if you can throw any light on
this matter. Unless a stop is put to this spook
business, we’ll have ever Sioux in the two
Dakotas taking to the Bat Iiands, or we’ll have
to play Chivington over again!”

“And have to fight the humanity-shriekers
after wiping out the red angels,” laughed Hor-
ton, but with a bitter echo to his words. “ It
was bad enough in Colonel Chivington’s time,
but now—go away, trouble! The wild and woolly
West would back you up, to a man, genera ,
but the Eastern people— who never passed
through an Indian war, who never saw a gen-
uine red-skin until Buffalo Bill reached out
for their round dollars—would everlastingly
swamp you l”

“ Don’t I kn0w i” with a wry grimace. “ But
let that pass. What is your theory, if you really
have one, Horton?” I I

“ [’11 give you thegfacts first, then you can
help lick a theory into sha e, general. It will
take some little time, but ’11 boil it down as
best I can. So—here you have it:

“ I struck my first clew while attending to a
bit of professional business, up near the Can—
ads line, last fall. I was after a brace' of law-
breakers, and finally came across them, father
and son. They were both playing a part, after
their own fashion, but each with one eye to the
same general end.

“The son called himself John Godfrey, and
that name will fit him as well any of the dozen
he laid claim toI off an on. He was bother—
in with an old friend of mine: Luke Wood-
br dge, a farmer and fine-stock grower, on an
extensive ranch. There was a woman in the
case, of course, and through her. Godfrey hoped
to get his grip on Woodbridge Ranch when the
racket died away.

“John knew that Woodbridge had a goodly
amount of money under his roof, and by prom—
ising them all that, he picked up a gang of cut.
throats who agreed to do his dirty work. They
were to kill the father, son and mother, fixing
matterssothat the deed would be laid at the
door of the Sioux. They Were to carry oil? the
girl, and John was to rescue her, in true heroic
style. Then, wooing, wedding, taking p0sseso
sion, and all that; you understand?”

t General Miles nodded assent, but rather impa-
ieutly. '

“ Interesting enough, no doubt, but hardly
what I’m waiting to hear,”

“ I said it would take time. but I’ll get there,
if you wait a bit, general. That was J obn’s part
of the programme, but I helped knock it into pi.
I arrested ohn, and took him across the border.
I lodged him behind the bars, and washed my
hands of the affair. None too soon, eitherl
Two nights after I received my receipt for the
prisoner, a mob broke into the jail, and John
went up a treel v

“Now for the father: Zeno Godfrey while
playing With white skin, Wah-pa—doo—tah, medi-
cine-man of the Brules and mouthpiecepf the
Indian Messiah when (i uring as a red-skin.”

“ I’ve heard of the fol ow. Sitting Bull ought
to have him as company,” grimly muttered .the
general.

‘_‘ Maybe they’re closer together than you im-
agine—spiritually speaking,” laughed the Bor-
der Beagle.

“What! You don’t mean— What do you
mean, Horton?” ‘

" That, if my theory holds water, Zeno God»
fre knows just how the ghost of Sitting Bull
too to skipping over the billggsnera]. And
I’ll tell you wh I come to this conclusion, if
you’ll have a lit e more patience.”

“ Go on. You’re worse than l‘om Hetlund
but if you can prove your hints Well founded, i
can well afford the time.”

“ All right. As I said, both father and son
had their own parts to play. though each reached
out toward the same end: By that I meant the
Godfreys were doing their level best to fan the
fire, hopin to bring on a general conflagration
which wo d sweep all these lands clear of set-
tlers, both white and red. And then when
prices went down toless than nothing, the syn-
dicate would step in .With their money-bags.
and— Catch on, general?” ‘

“ You can’t really mean it, Horton!”

 



 

p

 

 

 

 

_,,

 

“ It is a scandalous fact, and I stake my repu- .

tation on it, sir. ” his voice growing rimly ear-
nest, his eyes glowmg with poorly hidden rage.
“ The Indians have to hearinll the blame of this
outbreak. They will have to pay the penalty,
too! And yet, true as the sun shines in the
heaven above us, general, all this racket is kick-
ed up as a. money-making schemel I can give
you names and figures, as well as facts, if you
ask for them.”

“Not now. Later, perhaps, if any good can
be done by probing the matter. Just now—I’m
thinking more about this spook businessl”

“It’s a slice of! the same pudding, general,”
with a short, hard laugg. “It’s only another
version of the Indian essiah, and the same
knaves are pulling the wires. And Zeno God-
frey, alias Rad Leaf, the Brule, is one of the
head schemersl

“ He went up North as an emissary of Sitting
Bull, to spread the ghost-dance craze among the
Shoshones, the Grosventres, the Cress and the
Bunnocks. He layed his part so well that three
dele ates were 6 ected by each tribe, to hunt up
the ndian Messiah, and report what truth there
was in those marvelous tales. r

“ One of those led astray byvthe devilish arts of
this Red Ivaf, was Dav1d oodbridge, son of
my old friend. He was a half-blood. His
father was pure white, but his mother was a
full-blood ShOshone, daughter to a once noted
chief, He-That-Fights-Long.”

I “ I’ve heard of him. He is dead, I believe?”

“ Luckily so, yes. If living, you’d have the
Snakes hissing lon ere this,” with a short, hard
laugh. “Davie— e‘ changed his name
Silverblade, the title given him by his Indian
mother—was one of the delegation who followed
Zeno Godfrey, in search of the Messiah.

“They found him, tool Let Red Leaf alone
for that! There was an actual vision: another
ghost, like this one of Bull’s, of course! And
after Silverblade emptied his Winchester at
short range into the gh0st, he became a firm
believer. How wasitdonel By magic lanterns,
I fancy, though I can’t say for certain.

“The dele ation turned back, firm believers
in the New essiah, but as he had assured them
that, at his coming, all dead Indians should be
restored to life, even as all of white blood were
tobe wiped from the face of the earth, the
cunnin knaves resolved to lie low and wait for
the m nnium tocatch them up. Why fight,why
enter onawinter cam sign, when ever thin
was sure to come out r ght without that A
of the entire dele ation, only Silverblade obeyed
the command to oin Sitting Bull and his ghost-
dancers.

“On his way down here, Silverblade saved
me from stretching hemp at the hands of a gang
of cut-throats who were doing their level best
to helpon a general outbreak by robbing and
abusing the Friendlies. And it Was through my
tryin to show Davie how foolsh his craze was,
that solved the secret of the Indian Messmh,
and hit OR the scent which I firmly believe
gullllgad me straight to this ghost of Sitting

u I '

“ A roundabout trail, and it has brought you
to the point I‘m most interested in,” nodded
General Miles, With a half-smile. ' “ You believe
this is more magic-lantern woer Yen think the
same hands are pulling the wires?”

“ I am ready to sta e my reputation on that,
general. I know at _least three of the fellows
who played the Indian Messiah, on that Occa-
sion, and I know they had others to help them.
I know that, taken in a lump, they could talk
toevery tube on this cont.nent in their own
dialect. I know that they are hired by capi-
talists to fan a general 0 break, so that big
money can be made by buy 113 up ranches and
farms and claimS. IknOW that they are play-
ing in with the Indian traders and agents for
that one grand end!”

“Never mind. Don’t press that point too
hardly, just now, Horton,” frowned the general,
lifting a hand. “Stick to your 3913, please.
You Ia you are willing to take the job of lay-
ian Bu 1’s ghost: what are your terms?"

“Nothing, if you hint at pail: general.” Was
the quick response. “ I have marked Zeno
Godfrey for my next game, and at least two of
his fellow-schemers are wanted by “1913M If
I can run them in, I’ll be amply repaid for my
trouble.” ‘

“ How can I help you, then, since you ask for
no reward?” ‘

“ By giving me permission to enlist such In-
dians from Pine Ridge Agency, as I may require
to carry out my plans.”

“ How many do you want?”

.' “ Make it a round dozen, to cover all emergen-

cies, though I hardly think I’ll need more than

 

half that number. Give me an order on Gen-
eral Brooke for that number, to be selected by
myself. Give me a pass, written and signed by
yourself, authorizing me to enter or leave the
army lines at will, without being obliged to
render an account of my plans or purposes.
Will you do this much, general?”

“ Aren’gfou making it rather broad, Horton?”
hesitated lies. .

“ No broader than I deem strictly neocssary.
You ought to know how news is spread, in times
like these, general. You can’t sneeze in
privacy, without every hostile in the Dakotas
knon ing it. before the echo dies away 1”

General Miles laughel at that remark, though
none knew better than be how little exaggerated
it was. He turned to the desk taking up a n
and dipping it into the ink. I-le hesitated a ew
moments, as though weighing the matter in his
own mind, but then he dashed off the orders
asked for. .

As he intimated, it was great trust he was
risking, but he had known the Border Beagle for
years, and felt that he could be trusted, if any
men might.

“There you are, Horton,” passing over the
important papers. “Do your level best and
bring Bull’s gh0st straight to me if you catch
it. I’ll hang it, as an example to other restless
s iritsl”

“ If I fail, general, I’ll leave my ghost to keep
Bull company l”

Glancing swiftly over the papers to satisfy
himself that the contents fully met his ideas, Big
Horn Buck folded them and carefully stowed
them away, then gave his thanks to the general.

“Maybe I‘ve been a bit off-hand with you,
general," be added, with an apologetic laugh, as
he rose from his chair. “ But I’mmore at home
on the trail than at court.”

“Never mention it, man! I only wish I had
more such trailers as you have shown yourself,
Horton. You on ht to become attached to the
arm , and if you ike—”

“ couldn’t work in shackles, general, thank-
ing you all the same. I would lose my scen
surel I’d make a miserable army scout, but 1’]
try to prove myself as good as the best, outbide
of the ranks.”

‘9 Well, every man to his own taste. Do the
best you can, Horton, and if you succeed in
laying Bull’s ghost, I’ll forgive you for not be-
ing in the regular service,” laughed Miles, pleas-

ant .

“ {’11 do my level best, general,” bowed Big
Horn Buck, passing from the mom, to complete
that sentence to himself: “ For the law, not the
army l”

As he left the building, he caught sight of Tom
Hetlund, the Bad River ranchmau, and quickly
JOlnlng him, he asked further details of the
ghostly resurrection of Sitting Bull.

He questioned the ranchman until that worthy-

had nothing further to impart, then took pains
to obliterate all memory of his curiosity by fill-
ing Hetlund full of ithi~ky.

‘He’ll never remember me, but ohl what a
head he’ll have to-morrow l”

CHAPTER VII.
Liran BIRD AND SILVERBLADE.

ONLY one of that hasty volley of bullets
struck Silverblade, but that was enough to
put an end to his fighting, for that day at least.

Thunder Strike saw him fall, and felt a pang
of angry pity at the untimely fate of the youth
who dared t e attempt no one cared to imitate.
The grim old chief sent more than one bullet in-
to that blue veil of smoke on a blind hunt for
vengeance, and when the call of the bugle
warned both friends and foemen that the cav-
alry were coming, it was Thunder Strike who
risked his life rather than leave the boy-brave
therefor the Indian police to triumph over.

Even when.mounted on his war- ony, with
Silvarhlade lying across his sinewy th ghs, Thun-
der Strike nevcr once then ht of the half-blood
as othervtban a corpse. ut hebegsn to come
’nearer the truth when, fairly clear of the camp,
and w th no signs of immediate pursuit on the
part of police or soldiers, he took time toex-
amine the youth.

Though hit but once, Silverblade seemed dead.
The lead had struck him Just at the edge of his
hair, over the left temple, apparently hra‘imng
the r fellow; but not 80. Cut to the bone,
b‘lee ing freely, the son of Weenamoo was still
a we

Thunder Strike lingered to learn but little
more than the bare fact; now that battle had
been ofl'ered, he knew that safety lay in the
Bad Lands, if anywhere. Short of that natural
fort, they were liable to be intercepted and cut
off; from refuge, if not from life as well. q

.

 

'

 

Hastily clapping a poultica and bands

around the skull of the unconscious youth, e -

placvd him in charge of and on the same pony
with Liltle Bird, his dau hter. thus more
equull dividing the weight. nd in her charge,
Silver lade covered many a weary who that
momentous dav.

The son of Weenamoo was musing over this ‘

escape on the evening when we meet him again,
something more than a Week after the killing of
Sitting Bull.

He showed the effects of that wound in more
than one way. His hair had been cut away
from the lips of the wound, over which a patc
of cloth had been stuck with balsam. His face
seemed thinner, his eyes sunken, his form a lit-
tle less robust. For he had lost a great deal of
blood. and though that bullet had glanced from
his skull without fracturing it, the shock had
been a serious one. ,

And now, once more able to care for himself,
Silverblade was mentally admittin that he
Owed two great debts: one to Thun er Strike,
the other to Little Bird.

“ He carried me off, she brou ht me back! I
would never have woke up, on y for her nurs-
ing. I owe her a life, such as it is. Can I ever
re ay Little Bird?" ' ,

ilverblade frowned mcodil as he asked him-
self that question; not how a coald repay the
debt, be it noted, but if he could ever do so.

While so carefully nursing him back to life
and reason, poor Little Bird had unwittinle
betrayed herself, and almost the first thing i -
verblade grew conscious of, after that horrible
stupor was fairly broken, was that in saving a
life, the Indian maid had lost a heart.

She was barely sixteen years of age, but she
was alreadyoa woman in the eyes of many a

romising young buck, and it was the fault of
ittle Bird alone that she was still an inmate of
Thunder Strike’s tepee.
was at all anxious to have her go away. She
was his only child, since his one son died, and
for that reason he had taken her away from the

‘ Agtncy school where the boy caught his last
sic ' ‘

nest.

“ It is not good. The White-man’s Road leads
to the gravel” the superstitious chief declared,
for once in his life closing his ears to the earnest
pleading of those red lips.

There had hardly been time to mourn over an

'education cut short, for the ghost-dance craze
spread over the land, and now—Little Bird had '

learged what no school could teach her, out of
boo sl .
' “ She is pure she is true, she is earnest,” Sil-
verblade mu , his hands clasped behind him,
his eyes downcast, taking no heed whither his
slow steps carried him in the dee ning twi-
light. “She saved my life, when must have
rished without her care.
ndian all I have tried to make myself—er
ce t—’g
ilverblade
belt with ban 3 mechanically seeking the pistols
at his waist, his eyes flashing a keen glance in
the direction his ears pointed out.

He caught the sound of a familiar voice,
raised as thou h in anger, and as be halted, he
heard a secon speaker: not clearly, but out of
that husky mumble he could pick his own name.

The voices came from beyond smattering
fringe of ever reens by which the valley was
rendered a litt 0 less barren in bolts, and with-
out waiting for more, the young Snoahone step-
ped swiftly forward, parting the dark green
wall, and taking in the situation at a glance. ',

Only a few aces awag stood two figures-—
male and fema e—and as 0 locked, Silverblade
saw the right hand of Wah-pa-doo-tah, medicine-
man of the Brule Sioux, shoot out to clutch the

wrist of Little Bird, just in time to check her \

flight. ’
“Not yet, m

ward him. as -though for a (2030 embrace.
“You 'must hear me through, now I
The devil!” ‘

His first words n ere shaped in the ioux 

tongue, but the last two Were decidedly blunt
English. For just then two sinewy hands fell
u on his arms, and he was not on y robbed of

h s plump prize, but sent spinning a dozen feet '

away.

"My father forgets himself and his sacred
office,” cternly said the Shoshana, facin
medicine-man. “Did the Great Spirit bi
abuse as uawl”

him

~ You. 8 it, David Woodbridgei” hissed the 

knave, his right hand already gripping a revoli
vcr. ‘ »
u i am Silverblade. Are you Wab-pa-doo-mh,
or Zeno Godfrey 2'” coldly asked the half-blood.

Not that the old ‘chief i

She is all red, all 3

star!” be said, with a low; . .
wicked laugh, rawing the stru gling girl to-' r

ave a sudden start, coming to a V

have—_ I

the-"r {

 

   

 

 

 

 

The medicine-man shrunk back at that name,
but instead of lifting to a level, that weapon
sunk a bit 10wer.

“ Why do you interfere when our help is not
wanted? Go our way, son of eenamoo, and
give thanks t at your right hand is not even
now” withering on its stump! Go your way,
or—

“ Little Bird will go, too!” murmured the
maid, her hand touching the half-blood, gently.
“ Come, son of Vl'eenamoo!”

Wah-pa-doo-tah started forward as though to
arrest the girl, but Silverblade kept his place
between, an open hand going out to check the
rascal as he stern] y spoke again: .

“ If Little Bird wishes to hear, father, she has
a tongue to say so.”

“ No! Little Bird has heard far too much al-
read! Red Leaf hisses like a poison snake! His
words are bad—all bad i”

“ Then Little Bird will go with Silverbade,
until she is safe with Thunder Strike,” quietly
decided the Shoshone.

“ If Isay not! If I say Little Bird shall re-
main with me? Who are you, boy, to say such
big words? Why, you infernal sapling!” once
more permitting his fierce rage to drive him
into his native tongue. ,“I’ll break you across
my knee, if you dare step in my path! ’

“ Will you try it on now, or shall we look for
a more retired spot?" coolly asked the half-blood,
also in English. “I bow to the office, but 1
laugh the man to scorn when he shows himself
in his natural colors. When and where will you
have it, Zeno Godfrey?”

Su‘iftly as those words were uttered, Little
Bird caught their purport, and springing be-
tween the two angry men, she hastily Spoke:

“ Offer a blow, and Little Bird calls to Thun-
der Strike!” ‘ .

Wuh-pa-doo-tah smothered his anger for the

.. time being, and after a mock bow to the youn

couple, he turned away, striding Swiftly towar

tilie tepees pitched near, the center of the inclosed
ateau.

p "Shall we follow, Little Bird!” asked Silver-

blade, after a brief silence.

“ If he oes to hiss bad words into the ear of
Thunder trike, the Chieftain will call for his
child,” quietly said the girl, flashing a glance
into that still stern face, then drooping her eyes
like one abashed. " Did Silverblade hear
much?”

“Only enough to tell him that Little Bird
wanted to fly away. What did Red Leaf say to
fri hten her so badly?”

‘ He is not red—he is white, a dirty white,
like muddy snow!” the girl excisimed, with a
gettish stamp of her moccasined foot. “ Why is

9 here, where all should be red?"

“ He is one chosen by the Messiah, Little Bird.
Silverblade knows. for his eyes have seen his
ears have heard. Red Leaf is big medicine. Only
for his teachings, the Shoshone would never have
seen the Sioux. ’

Possibly it was because he recalled how care-
fully, how tenderly this girl had nursed him back
to life and strength, that Silverblade cast such
meaning into his glance as his hand gently
touched an arm of Little Bird; but he realized
his mistake the next instant.

It was only a glance; a brief meeting of eyes,
and that in the twilight now deepening into
night; but David Woodbridge came to life long
enough for a shivor of pain and remorse, for he
knew now what he had only suspected: Little
Bird loved him wit all her soul!

It was fortuna e that, just then, a slowly
moving figure passed not far from where they
stood in the shadow of the evergreens, for it gave
them both a fair excuse for ridging overan
embarrassing moment.

“ It is Red Leaf," softly whispered Silver-
blade, his keen vision bafliing the gloom, as that
dusky shape paused to glance in that direction.
“Stan’d still, and he will think you are gone
awa .

“ If he comes, swear that you will not fight
with him!” murmured the girl, clinging trem-
blin fly to his arm.

“ here will be no fight. Red Leaf was crazy,
just then, but now—see! he is going!”

“ Where is he going}, and for what?’ '

“To talk with the rest Spirit, maybe. Red
Leaf is amouthpiece chosen from many by the
Measlali.”

“Would a real Messiah choose a bad heart?
In there no good Indian through whose lips his
words may come? For—Red Leaf is all bad!
Red Loaf is a liar, a dog that howls lies l”

:: attlel'liird l” h f 1
me stampin er cot ionate y
then moving away In the direétig‘nsstaken by
‘ You think Little Bird is a

by the prophet.

 

fool! You think Red Lent is a 0d! Come
and see if he is brave enou h to tel the son oi
Weenamoo what his lips trie to pour into Little
Bird’s ears, just before you came here!”

More to act asa guard than from any real

curiosity as to what the angered prophet might
have said concerninglhipiself, Silverblade obey-
ed, and as he gained er‘side, Little Bird added,
shar ly:
“ gou think Red Leaf has gone to talk with
the Messiah? Good! Silverblade shall have his
eyes 0 ened to the truth, for once! He shall
kngw ah-pa-doo-tah for the lying dog he really
is!

His curiosity roused at last, Silverblade asked
Little Bird what she meant, but received no
reply, in words. The girl led him rapidly for-
ward until past the spot where Red eaf had
vanished amid the gloom, then proceeded more
cautiously, keenly watching for the prophet.

But before they could fairly strike the sccnt,
a low yet penetrating wail seemed to float over
their heads, and as they abruptly halted, a
light flashed up far above their level, at or very
near the crest of the hill directly before them.

And as they stared in mute bewilderment
and amaze, that peculiar light took to itself
form and substance, seemingly, until they could
no longer doubt: it was the shape of an Indian,
shrouded in a blanket, each fold of which was
distinctly visible, yet the whole thing appeared
to be lighted up from within: it actually seemed
to be transparent!

“ ’Tis the Messiah!” faintly gasped Silver-
blade, his hand falling away from Little Bird’s
arm which he had grasped as that wailing note,
saluted their ears.

“ Look! there is Red Lam whispered the
girl, pointing ahead, where her keen eyes had
caught sight of the prophet, who turned swiftly
at the cry let fall b the half~blood while sink-
ing to his knees wit hands folded tightly over
his wildly throbbing heart.

If Silvarblade heard, he did not heed her
words. Nor did Wah-pa-doo-tah seem to see
the young couple, for he quickly faced that glow-
ing vision, kneeling with clasped hands uplifted,
breaking into the shrill, unknown tongue which
Silverblade had so often heard from his lips: a
chant to the Great Spirit! .

And, as if in answer, that wailing cry came
floating downward again.

' CHAPTER VIII. '
THE GHOST-MAKERS IN COUNCIL.

J cm as thou'gh there was a particular mean-
ing attached to that peculiar cry, Red Leaf
lOWered his hands, prostrated himself on the
ground until his dark-clad figure fairly blended
with the earth, then rapidly crept along until a
dense patch of evergreens were placed between
himself and the you‘n‘g couple.

“,One was a squaw—of course it’s that cursed
boy!” he muttered to himself, pausing to make
sure that his last movement had not drawn
those dimly seen shapes after him, as yet. “ Can
he suspect? Has he got the dust out of his eyes?
If I thought as much, l’d—”

He left the threat unfinished, but there was
little need of putting it into plain words. The
manner in which his strong teeth grated to-
gather, added to his savage gripping of knife
and pistol, rendered his meaning only too clear.

Then, too, that wailing sound came floating
through the air, drawing his eyes toward the
hill-crest just in time to catch a parting gm se
of that illuminated shape as it seemed to ' so ve
into nothingness.

“All right; I’m coming, so keep your shirt
on l” he growled, casting a reluctant glance
backward, then gliding sWiftly, silently away
through the loom, heading for a narrow defile
which enter the hills, but after a short dis-
tance rising to form a sloping end to the
pocket.

Once fairly beyond sightpf the young couple,
Zeno Godfrey—to give him the name which
best fitted his recent mutterings :- covered
ground more rapidly, soon leaving the pocket;
to pauso for a backward glance. He gave a low
grunt of surprise as he saw how much more dis-
tinctly objects on the plain were to be seen from
this elevation, and this fact made a portion of
what had gone before a bit clearer.

“They were dagging me. and, Perkins must
have spied them, with his night glass,” he mut-
tered, adding an oath at his own carelessness.
“ It is that girl, for the boy—he’s all fool! How
much does she- know? How long has she been
watching me? If I thought—"

Another broken sentence, as Godfrey shook
his clinched flat at the two dimly Visible shapes
on the level far below him. He could even
distinguish one from the other. He could tell

 

 

that Silverblade was kneeling, with bowed head.
But Little Bird stood erect, seemingly turned
to a statue by that marvelous Vision, now
vanished into thin air.

Having partly Vented his emotions by that
vicious gesture, Godfrey crept rapidly away,
stepping where his moccasiued foot would leave
the least possible trail, without making his
journey too long. He felt that no common
motive would have forced his confederate into
thus prematurely making the exhibition on
which they had counted so much.

“Why didn’t he just 've the signal, ’ware
snakes? Why show up, i nothing worse than a
con 16 of spies threatened our game?”

hose were the doubts that hastened his steps,
and once assured that no eyes from the level
could take note _of his progress, Zeno Godfrey
broke into a swinging trot that quickly carried
him to his destination.

He paused before a pile of rocks, to uttera
low, tremulous whistle, to which a prompt re-
sponse was given. He advanced, and as a heavy
rock was swung aside, as though on hidden
hinges, he crouched low, and crept through a
narrow, irregular o ening muttering:

“ You, Perk?
soon?” .

“ You did 1” with an angry snarl in his whis-
per, as he swung the rock back into place. " You
were coming here, of course?”

“ Why not? You set the time, didn’t on?”

“ The time was all right. I’m not kic ing on
that score,” his tone softening a bit as he crept
after the prephet, through the dark, which was
quickly broken by Godfrey’s sweeping aside a
double blanket which masked a fairly sizable
cavern. “.What galled me was seeing you lead-
ing a brace of spies straight along the home-
stretch!”

“ Wah-pe-doo-tah can do no wrong—oh, no!”
came in grim mockery from.cne of several per-
sons athered about a burning candle. ‘Is he
not t e chosen mouthpiece of the Indian Mes-
siah? And if he should'make a boggle, why—
blame the spirit, not the substance!”

“ Is thereanything left in the bottle, Clark?”
dryly asked Godfrey, showing his teeth a bit as
he glanced toward the other.

" I’m not drunk. Only wish I was!” sighed
that worthy, turning his painted face from side
to side as be viewed himself in a hand-glass.
“ Rise up, gentlemen, and let the most worthy

rophet pass judgment. How do we pan out,
fled Leaf i”

It formed a curious spectacle, those five men
standing in a row before the prophet, gravely
submitting to his close scrutiny in turn. And
Godfrey was thorough in his inspection, despite
the rapidity of his movements, for he gave three
of the five a‘suggestion which was acted upon
without delay.

Each one of the five men. was painted after
the fashion set by the high priest of the Unkpa-
pas when be instituted the ghost dance. Each
man wore a cunningly-contrived wig of horse-
hair, with the white, fluffy feathers of the eagle
—badge of the secret society known as the ghost-
dancers—fastened to the braided scalplock. And
to eyes which were familiar with the once
mighty edicme-man of the Unkpapas, each
one of th ve offered a, strong resemblance to
Sitting Bull as he had been in life.

“ Of course it don’t call for such a close imita-
tion, or neat work, as it would if you were to
pass inspection at short range,” said Zeno God-
fray, as. he watched the trio carrying‘out his
sug estions. “But the game we’re p ying is
we] worth our best efforts, to say nothin of the
hue and cry which would come from t e red-
skins shduld they learn how beautifully we are
making fools of them all!”

“You can preach, why don’t you take more
care to practice?” growled the man addressed as
Perkins. .

“ What made you show-up?” -

“ To save your credit, if not_ your hair, blunt-
ly. “ You- were headin straight for this den,
and at your heels a call? 9 01 313195 were Walking,
hold as you please! You need a lesson, Godfrey,
and if it hadn’t called for too much risk on our
side, I’d have let her Went. right then! Were
you drunk, or merely sleeping?”

“ How do you know I was being followed, 01'
spied upon?” '

“My eyes told me, no less! I was looking for
you, to finish making our arrangements for the
show. I saw you coming, and then I saw more.

I had my night-glass with me, and that told me i ,

beyond all doubt. Who is that girl, Godfrey?”

“ Thunder Strike’s girl, I reckon,” with a, sun;
flash in his greenish-gray eyes, u She was],
playing spy on me. '
that mongrel, Silverblade.”

at made you light up, so. .

She was out spooning with \ -

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“ Little Bird, eh?” with a. short, dr laugh that
matched his shoulder-shrug to pe ection. “ I
almost knew it, and—Godfrey?”

“You say it.”

“ I’m going to. That girl is capable of more
serious things than playing spoons, old man!
I’ve seen her three different times within a short
quarter of this den, and each time she seemed to
be hunting for a trail; Whose, do you reckon 3”

“ You don’t mean it, Perkins!"

“I’ve got to, all the same. And when I saw
that one of those dogging you was a girl, I
reckoned it called for more than a bare signal to
’ware shakes! Sure as death, mates, that girl
has dropped to at least a part of our little
game !” _

“ If that’s so, I’d hate to insure her life!”

rimly nodded Theron Clark, while another,
I’lerre Crevier b name, contributed:

“ That part be ongs to you, Red Leaf: give her
a dose of medicine l”

“ And another for the cub, unless Godfrey
loves him better than he does his own life—and
pocket 1” said Tom Acton.

“Haven't you a vote to chip in Link Sey-
morel” snarled Godfrey, his eyes flashing from
face to face as its owner spoke, to pause on that
of the fifth man.

“ Me too!” croaked the one singled out, with a
slight nod of his wig-decked head. “ If the girl
knows or suspects, and she was playing spoons
with Silverhlade, as you asserted, of course the
cub is just as wise: and a mighty sight more
dangerous.”

" Well, I’m inclined to think you’re right,
mates,” said Godfrey, after a brief use, during
which his glittering eyes sunk to t a bare rocks
at‘his feet. “ I had good reasons for wanting
the boy to live, but they’re blasted, now, He’s
past the useful stage, I reckon, and so—die goes!
Only, let me do the job with my own hand 2”

“Just so it is done, in good time,” gravely
nodded Perkins, adding quickly: “ And now,
to business, mates! We’ve set enough foo!’ reds
to dancing, and what has come of it? The
murder of Sitting Bull, on whom we counted for
leading the Sioux into the Bad Lands, for a war
of extermination. He’s gone, but others re:
main, just as crafty, and a mighty sight better
for fighting, when it comes to that!” V

“ Come to it it must, or we’ve risked our lives
and wasted our good money for nothing,"
gloomily said Godfrey. “ I thought the soldiers
would jum at the chance to get even for Cus~
ter, but Miles—devil fly away with him this
night!” . .

Perkins made a sign, which sent.Link Sey-
more out of the cave, and then he said, With his
dry, sneering laugh: _ ,

“ You look at him as only a soldier, Godfre ,
but haven’t you heard a whisper about t e
presidential bee buzzing in his bonnet? If that
is not all a newspaper lie, Paddy Miles Will do
as little killing as may be, let the temptation to
even-up be never so good,”

“ He 8 making too mi hty clean a record for
us, though!” growled revier. “He’s slinging
his tree 5 around so as to circle the whole la -
out, 81H unless We get in our work in a ho y
hurr , we might as well call .it a fizzle, and
brea for tall timber while there’s an opening in
the lines Wide enough for gentlemen of our size

to steal through 1”
“Fact, though  hate to admit as mUCh’”
as is bemmiug us in.

frowned Perkins. 1“. j

and pretty soon all Will ready for the grand
round-up. We’ve worked “hard for our wages,
but unless we can do still more, We’ll never make
more than that same. And I counted on a mil-
lion, at the very leafit. when the divvy was
made!” .

“Thereis onl the one way. that I can see,”
moodin chippei in Z9130 GOdfl'eY- ‘_‘ That is to
coax or drive the Indians into breaking for the
Bad Land. It can be done—it must be done!
We’re paid to bring on a general War, and we’ve
got to earn our money!” _

“ Well, if playing ghost can do the trick, all’s
ready whenever you give the word, pardner. If
this gang can be led to make a break through
the lines, there’ll be fighting enou h to set all
the other bands on fire. I reckon the killing
of Sittin Bull would do the job. but that seems
to be ca led a family affair; the Indian 901106
has to bear the blame or wear the praise. just as
one looks at it.”

“ Everything is ready, then?” asked Godfrey,
casting a quickglance around as he uttered the
wordS.

“ ready, when the bell rings, and if there’s
any curiosity iin your red children. down rop-
der, Wah-po-doo-tab, I’m thinking we’re in big

' luck that such is the case, too!”

Godfrey sprung to his feet with a smothered

 

oath, as a faint sound came to their ears, despite
the rocksgwhich covered them over. It was a
confused murmur, as of breaking waves or
human voices, loudly lifted.

“What’s that?” he ejaculated, at the same
time springing toward the blanket-screen, as
though with the intention of rushing to the
iiuter air; but Perkins checked him with his dry
augh.

“Your little girl and her 10ver have carried
the news, I reckon, Godfrey. Dollars to cents
the whole pot-and-boiling of ’em are swarmin
across this way, eager to see what Sitting Bu
looks like since his translation !”

By this time there could be no longer a doubt
as to what made that swelling sound: it was a
chorus of excited voices, coming from the cir-
cular. valley in which the refugee hostiles had
pitched their camp, after breaking away from
the Agency at Standing Rock. .

“They’ve told, for sure!" snarled Godfrey
tearing aside the' screen, but glancing back to-
ward Perkins, who seemed aiinoyingly calm.
“ Show me out, Perk! Unless we can know just
what those red devils mean to do, we’re worse
than helpless! Curse it all, man! are you made
of ice?”

“(Nor of- dynamite, my explosive friend.
CanTt you wait until Link brings in word?
Sent im out, on just such a chance, and now—
Here he comes!” as a heavy foot was heard
crushing the gravel with which the narrow
passage was thickly strewn.

“' Time u mates!” spluttered Seymore, en-
tering hast’ y. “They’re swarming this way,
wild to see the ghost of Sitting Bull!”

CHAPTER IX.
HOW SILVERBLADE CARRIED Tun NEWS.

THE instant that wailing sound met his ears,
the young Shoshone was, to a certain degree,
prepared for what followed. He had heard the
same sound before, far away toward the land of
the setting sun. And then, as now, the weird
plaint was followed by a still stranger light on
the hills.

All doubts which might have come from those
almost fierce half-hints flung forth by Little
Bird, were swept away by that cry, that silvery
light; and even before that phosphorescent glow
began to take shape to the startled eyes of the
In ian girl, Silverhlade sunk to his knees with a
harsh, choking cry, his hands pressing in a cross
above his wildly-leaping heart, his head bowed
down in mingled shame and adoration.

Once more he was all red, all superstition, all
blind belief and unreasoning faith in the Indian
Messiah!

Little Bird was affected almost as powerfully,
though she stood erect, and, as the false rophet
fancied when he paused for a backward, glance
before making his escape complete, proudly de-
fiant. But that was only in seeming. She might
almost be said to have been petrified by that
marvelous vision, for vision that strange light
had become.

As though that pale glow had lessened the
gloom which hung over the level, Little Bird

ad caught sight of Red Leaf, but even as she
uttered his name, a pointing hand calling Silver-
blade’s attention that way, the Shoshone drop-
ped her arm, to hoarser gasp:

“ ’Tis the Messiah!”

Startled _awed, Little Bird turned her gaze
upon that light, and was held spellbound while
it laswd.

She had heard of the Indian Messiah, and
the manner in which he had at different times
revealed himself to thOSe who sought further
light. She had believed, after a listless fash-
ion, but that faith had received a serious shock
of late, thanks to the actions of Wah-pa-doo-
tab, who was generally accepted as a chosen
mouthpiece of the Coming Man. But now—
she saw ! n _ .

Not the same vmon which had converted Sil-
verhlade from an unwilling doubter to a fanati-
cal believer: that had worn the silvery hair and
long heard of a white patriarch: this was—-

“The murdered chief! ’Tis Sitting Bull!”

The words seemed torn from her throat, and
then the spell grew too strong for aught but a
fixed gaze that saw, yet saw not. I .

If Silverhlade heard her gasping speech, he
gave no sign. His head bowed lower until his
wounded temple touched a frozen clod. His
fingers seemed trying to reach his heart to still
its furious jumping, to end that horrible chok-
in smothering torture.

either youth nor maiden saw the false
Bi'ophet as he stole silently away into the cloven

ill, and neither one uttered further sound while
that strange vision lasted. But as the light
faded, as the erect shape of the murdered high-

 

prlest seemed to melt into thin air, Little Bird
ave a gasping sigh, her knees yielding her
orm sinking to the ground as her trembling
hand fluttered out to catch the half-blood by an

arm. '

“ Waken—Silverblade!” she gasped, in a voice
that sounded unfamiliar to her own ears. “ ’Tis
gone! There is—what was it, brother?”

“ The Messiah! The Messiah cometh !”

“ N o—’tis Sitting Bull’s host!” moaned Little
Bird, her hold broken by t at sudden start, her
unnerved form drooping forward until her face
touched the frozen earth.

But Silverhlade neither heard nor saw the girl
whose tender care had brought him back from
the gates of death. He was neither man nor
lover, just then: he was a religious fanatic.

He sprung erect as his lifting eyes failed to
catch aught of that promised vision. He sprung
to the right, to the ,left, then forward, until he
could no longer doubt; the light had vanished,
instead of being hidden behind some intervening
obstacle.

“ Father, father, I am waiting for thee!” he
cried, hoarsely, lifting his clasped hands toward
the now dark and gloomy crest. “ Father,
father, show thy holy face once more! Father,
father, how hath thy poor son offended thee?”

There came no answer. The light did not re-
turn. Even the sullen rocks refused to send
back an echo of that despairing cry.

Silverhlade sunk to his knees once more, how-
ing his head until it struck the cold earth. His
heart went up in prayer, none the less ardent
because without words, none the less pure be-
cause so sadly mistaken.

And then, as though an answer had been re-
turned, the young fanatic sprung to his 'feet and

chokingly cried:

“I go, father! 1 will obey while breath
lasts!”

Without a thought for r Little Bird, though

his moccasined foot fair y brushed her beaded
skirt as be sued, the half-blood Sprung away
over the love , heading for the telpees where the
hostile Sioux were living, where hunder Strike
and other influential chiefs were at this moment
in council, trying to decide on their best cons?
of action. ‘

Silverhlade cau 'nt sight of the little group,
and with never a t ought for the time—honored

'traditions he was thus shattering, he sprung

into the fire—lit circle, uttering a hoarse, choking

cr .

xWhat blighting finger hath touched the
Shoshone’s brain?” sternly demanded Thunder
Strike, anger getting the better of his dignity.
“‘Are we squaws,‘ that Silverhlade comee—”

“He comes! The Messiah has come unto his
chosen children l” cried the young fanatic, fling-
ing out a hand toward the dark hills. " Look!
He calls! He points out the way for his chil-
dren to follow! The Messiah points to the Bad
Lands as the place where the great battle must
be fought!”

No less an excuse could possibly have saved
the one who tram led so recklessly on what has
been held sacred rom time immemorial. But
at that awe-inspiring title, every Chieftain
sprung to his feet, turning eyes toward the
quarter indicated, to see—nothing!

“ ls Silverhlade mad?” fiercely cried Thunder
Strike, gripping the fanatic with fingers of
steel. “ Where is the Messiah?” V .

The half-blood was staring toward the hills,
as though his widely opened eyes still saw that
wondrous vision, but at that touch, that harsh
demand, he ave a start, and swiftly swe t his
free hand ac oss his eyesnhke one striv ng, to
brush aside an anno lug vail.

“ Where is the sea ahf We have eyes, but
they see nothing but the night. Wh e is the
Measiah, son of WeenamOO?” persis Thunder
Strike. .

“ He was there—my eyes beheld his glory i”

“Ugh!” unted one of the older ,warriors.
“ Where di thepa noose steal his firewater? He
is drunk, like a too "

Those words of an y contempt did more than
all the eflorts of hunder Strike, and for a
brief space Silverhlade came back to reason,
rapidly describing the strange light, then draw-
ing a graphic picture of—not what his e as had
seen, but what his excited memor rocal ed. " i

“ ’Twas the Indian Messiah! e stood upon a

illar of fire—fire that smoked, at was power-
fess to burn. or even to scorch! re that curled
up through his long heard, his flowing blur, his
loving eyes! Fire that will carry death to the '
white-faces, sven‘as it brings eternal life to all

of red blood!

And then, dashin aside the hand which
Thunder Strike had p aoed u n his arm, Silver-
blade,sprung clear of that e-lit circle, lifting ,

 

 

 
 

 

“BINBI'DIEGU, "55116 ' HUSHIB.  ‘

 
 

 

 

his clasped hands and gazing upward, as he

broke into the chant of the ghost-dancers:

“ Father, father, our eyes are aching for a sight
of thy face!

“ Father, father, our hearts (:7 out for thy coming!

"Father, father, show our set the right trail to

follow!
“ Father, father, in pity hear thy suffering children l"

Thunder Strike fell back a bit, staring at the
fanatic in doubt, but others were less forbear-
ing. Weapons were gripped, and even drawn,
while harsh threats were finding birth when
Little Bird, staggering like one half asleep, or
suffering from illness, came within her parent's
View.

" What is it, child?” the old warrior cried, as
he sprun to her side.

Little ird gasped forth a few words, broken
and disconnected, but quite sufiicent to set all
his whirling doubts straight; and as be rushed
with her toward his tepee, Thunder Strike
shouted aloud:

“Sitting Bull has come back! Our holy
father has come to (guide his lost children!
Waken, sons of the ut-throatl Sitting Bull
has risen!”

By this time the entire camp was in an up-
roar, and barely taking time to give Little Bird
to one of the squaws who came tumbling out of
the rude tepees, Thunder Strike rushed back to
the council-fire, where Silverblade was still pour-
ing forth his weird chant.

‘ Son of Weenamool” cried the old Warrior,
gr! ping an arm and giving the young fanatic a
vio ent shake that temporarily broke that re-
ligions spell. “Show us where Sitting Bull
appeared! Point out the place where—”

“’Twas the Messiah! Silverblade saw with
his eyes heard with his ears, felt with his soul!
Sitting hull is dead, but the Messiah liVethl”

Ashe uttered the last words, the half-blood
strode away toward the hills where that silvery
light had made its appearance, and after him
flocked the excited Sioux, bucks, squaws,
pappooees. Only forafew yards. Then, having
the right direction, they rushed forward, past
the Shoshone, crying aloud for—not the Messmb,
but for Sitting Bull! '

Thunder Strike was one of those in the lead,
but as the hills remained dark before his eyes,
he slackened his pace as he drew nearer the edge
of the rising ground. He came to a full halt,
throwing out his arms as a partial barrier to
that swarm of excited humanity, crying:

“ Whit. children of the Cut-throat! Sitting
Bull was here, but he has vailed his face with a
black cloud! He is angry with his people!
His wounds are still sore, and they make him
forget how his sons fought to avenge his mur-
der! He has hidden his face, because we come
with yells, not with prayers for forgivienessl”

Instantly there was silence throughout that
crowded mass. Each eagerly lifted head he-
came bowed. . Knees bended until they kissed
the frozen earth. And then, still blind to all
else, Silverblade came swiftly around that sink-
ing mass, his arms flung out and upward, his
face turned back and upward, his clear musical
voice once more chanting:

“ Father, father, behold thy suffering children!
“ Father, father, in pity show thy radiant face to

us!
“Father, father, open thy ears in mercy to our

I'd. ersl
p “Either. father. our hearts bleed for thy coming
to save us i"

Other voices joined in the chant, until scores
were crying out the prayer each heart shaped:
the words blending together untfl it was im s-
sible to single out any particular sentence. at
all had the same tenor, all sought the same end:
the coming of Messiah, or Sitting Bull.

Then. as by magic, that strange, ros ring mur-
mur was stil ed. Every eye was fixed upon the
same spot; a slowly growing light near the ex-
treme crest.

At first barely enough to catch and arrest
those superstition-sharpened orbs, but gradually

.gzightening until the glad truth could no longer

oubted; their heartfelt prayers were heard,
were about to be answered! _
Clearer grew'that light, but even at its bright-
est it did not resemble any fire born of wood,
coal or other earthly material; rather was it a

concentration of meonshine, looking more ghost-5

ly as it increased in clearness until—

Those dancing, flickering, twinin rays of
silvery l! ht were assuming shape,i not sub-
stance. Little by little they grew more com act,
taking on a aha which, at length, rescinb ed a
human figure, at shining with a transparent,
phosphorescent luster such as no material body

. over before exhibited to those awe-stricken
. 0’0.- ’

the graVe hath sent us a leader!

 

Then the vision stood forth on the extreme
crest of the hill, the perfect representation of a
blanketed Indian, from whose otherwise bare
head rose the short, fluffy, body-feathers pluck-
ed from the gray eagle; not the long flight-
feathers from the wings, which remain sacred to
war-bonnets, but the insignia of the Ghost-
Dancers.

Silverblade stared in bewilderment at the vis-
ion, for this was not what he expected. This
was not the Indian Messiah, as he recalled that
holy spirit, hut—

Tbe shroud-like blanket was dropped from the
shoulders of the vision, and as thosdnaked arms
flung out in an imperious gesture, a Simultaneous
cry burst from those excited spectators:
B‘fiS‘fit’ting Bull! ’Tis the ghost of Sitting

u

 

CHAPTER X.
A SUPERFLUITY OF GHOSTS.

As though the loud outburst from so many
lungs had sent an irresistible current of air fly—
ing up the face of the ru ged bill, that vision
wavered, then vanished, caving all dark and
gloomy where had, risen the strange light.

A sobbing cry burst from the Sioux below,
and wild cries of disappointment mingled with
chanting and prayers for more—more light,
more guidance, more hope!

But great though that excitement was, not a
foot pressed forward to scale the hill and solve
that bewildering mystery. Instead, many
shrunk back. Among them was Thunder Strike,
his massive figure trembling like a leaf tossed by
a whirling gust of frosty wind.

Silverblade alone stood his ground, not that he
was brave or less susperstitious than those With
whom be bad cast his life-lot, but because he was
literally spell-bound.

He had come to see the Indian Messiah. He had
not comprehended, if he heard, them cries for
Sitting Bull, or Sittin Bull’s ghost. Now—this
was not the Indian essiah, as he had beheld
him. far away toWard the setting sun!

That had been the face and figure of a vener-
able, pitying white: this was the bronzecl figure
of an avenging‘ red-man! , .

“ Sitting Bull has risen! Sitting Bull is the
Messiah!” hoarser cried Thunder Strike, and
with those words the scales seemed to drop from
the eyes of the dazed Shoshone.

“ It is true!” he cried, shrilly, flinging up his

uivering bands, his feet striking the earth after
t e ghost-dance fashion. “ Sitting Bull was
dead, but he livetb DOW! Sitting Bull is the real
Messiah! Praise ye the risen, brothers! Sing
glory unto the savior of our poor people! Lo,
Out of death
coment’h life! Sitting Bull perished, that he might
save.

How much further that fanatical delirium
might have carried the misguided half-blood, it
is difficult evan to guess, but at that point of his
crazy speech, the light came back, and the vision
made itself clear unto all those straining eyes.

The same figure, with blanket trailing from
the girdle about its middle, but now those hands
were filled, one with the curious medicine-wand
so familiar to the followers of Sitting Bull, the
other grasping his blade-armed war-club.

No longer stately, statuesque even, but sway-
ing from side to side in the fierce war~dance,
waving the holy-staff, brandishing the terrible
war-club. And then dropping that weapon,
stooping as over a fallen foeman, flashing forth
a gleaming knifeand going through the motions
of scalping his latest victim!

Then the vision rose erect, flourishing what
appeared to be a blood-dripping scalp, and
through the air shot the tigerish yell of one who
has gained yet another ghastly trophy of war.

A panting cry broke from those laboring lungs
as the Sioux saw this, and the crowded mass be-
gan to sway as though meditating aunited rush
to inin their New Messmh. But ‘before this
con d take place, another change occurred.

Flinging up that hand, the scalp vanished, and
the ghost of Sitting Bull once more gripped and
flourished his war-club, motioning toward the
Bad Lands: that oft dreamed—of fortress, where
so many of the misguided Sioux had sworn to
fight their final battle; to there win ever-living
freedom, or everlasting death.

" The time has come. children of the Cut-
throst!” came the deep, stern voice of the high
priest. “ Death resses bard upon thy heels, but
life eternal a’wa ts ye all in the Bad Lands!
Sound the war-cry, and set thy faces toward the
promised land! Strike. and striketokill! Sweep
the accursed pale-races out of the trail, and fear
nau ht! Is not Sitting Bull with ye? And Sit-
tin Bull dead, is the Messiah living!”

ith one more flourish of club and staff in

 

the named direction. the light suddenly van-
ished, leaving the hillscrest dark and silent as
before.

The Sioux stood as though still under the
spell. That inaction could not havo lasted long
if they had been left to themselves, to follow
their own inclinations; but before it could be
fairly broken, a cry burst from the lips of Si!-
verblade, and his arms shot out to the west.

No need of speech, though words crossed his
lips, unheard, unneeded in that fresh marvel.
For, full on the crest of the western hill, the
illuminated shape of Sitting Bull had risen into
View.

Although still within easy range of those
marveling Indians, this point was fully quarter
of a vile, as one would have to pick a todsome
Way along that broken, rocky range, from the
spot where the vision had first shown itself.
Yell; it was the same, dOWn to the slightest de-
tai .

Is it any marvel that the poor Sioux should be
still further convinced that Sitting Bull was
more powerful dead, than he had ever been in
life? or barer twenty seconds had elapsed
since that light died out, to reappear so far
away.

Once again the vision went through that fierce,
war-breeding pantomime. Once more it killed,
scalped, and triumphed over a victim. And for
the SPcOIld time that deep, resonant voice urszed
the Sioux to break through the line of soldiers,
which was being drawn a out them, to gain the
Bad Lands, where a glorious victory awaited
them, the end of which would  the perfectful—
fillmcnt of the Indian Masaiah’s prediction:
America for the red-men alonel. _

Then, as before, that Weird Vision faded from
sigm, only to almost instantly reappear, this time
On the southern bill-top, directlyppposite the
point where it had first greeted their eyes. And
here, as at the other places, that grim play was
re ated, with hardlya variation.

he Indians surged in that direction, a erased,
furious, ravening, yet bewildered mass of poor
humanity. They acted in concert, yet each unit
felt that he was alone. It was a terrible power
thus exercised, and only superstition could have
yielded such blind obedience.

For the third time the vision disappeared from
those aching eyes, and as one man the Sioux
turned toward the east, for instinct told them
the circuit would be completed are the end. And
many among them Would, if put on .honor, have
sworn their eyes could trace that Vision flitting
like an illuminated shadow overtbe broken hills,
those mighty strides but touching the highest
rocks, its speed rivaling that of the fiery light-
ning when the black thunder-cloud is rent as the
storm bursts.

For the fourth time that illuminated figure
came into view of all those eyes, and for the
fourth time that grim pantomime was performed
with war-club and swiping-knife. And for the
fourth time the voice of Sitting Bull came float-

ing downward to those hungry ears, now as from -

.the first, speaking the Sioux language:

“ The hour has struck, children of the Cut-
throat! The charm is finished, the medicine
made, and it is very good!_ Ye have waited long
for the coming of the Messiah, but while Sitting
Bull was clothed in the flesh, he could only
preach, only point out the right trail: he could
not show the way to his blind children. But now
—-yonder lies the land of promise! In the Bad
Lands the fight must be fought, the victory won,
our emancipation earned! Press forward, chil-
dren of the Cut-threat! Though he may not
show himself to your eyes in thesunlight, Sitting
Bull Will ever lead the way and before his laugh
the Blue Coats shall be as harmless weeds! Be-
fore his breath their bullets shell turn aside and
do no harm to the red-man! Their long knives
shall crumble like dry dirt before his war-club!
Their—”

That sentence was never finished. ‘

Even as the Sioux listened With hungry ears
to those fiercely-welcome words. a sharp report,
as of rifle or of revolvar, broke the sequence
followed with barely an\ interval by a secon
shot. And, flinging up his arms, dropping war-
clnb and medians-stair from,nnnerved fingers,
the ghost of Sitting Bull turned part way around,
then pitched forward upon its face!

[The body lay, a blurred spot of phosphorescent
glow, on the top of the rock for a single second
—barely long enough for those stupefied savages
to note the fact—then ll}. fell over to the further
side, vanishing from their amazed sight.

For half a minute—ages under such circum-
stances—the Sioux stood spellbound, staring at
the now gloomy point of rocks. They were un-
able to d vine what had happened, despite those
shots, that hideously realistic. representation of

~

5,. "3;!"

 

 

  
 

T;
r,"
5..

'face of the prostrate figure.

 

 

 

a mortal suddenly stricken by the hand of re-
morseless death.

Was not Sitting Bull a spirit? Was he not
the lcng-looked-for Indian Messiah? Was he
not immortal DOW? And yet— .

Silverblade broke that awed silence With a
choking, hysterical cry as he started forward,
onlv to stumble and fall like one death-smitten.

Fortunately he was standing near one edge of
the crowd, eISe he would havo fared poorly in
the mad rush that followed. In a Solid mass at
first, but then opening out as those less ham-

rod gained ground, the intenselyuwrought-up

ioux rushed straight for that pomt of rocks,
eager to learn what that strange closing scene
really portended. _

Up the hill they climbed, more like mad than
sane men. More than one warrior was over-
thrOWn and trampled upon, forming a step to
aid others in scaling those rocks. And then-
Thunder Strike recoiled with a choking cry of
wondering grief and terror as he first gained the
crest of that rOcky hill.

For there lay a dimly-glowing mass: little
flames of bluish fire that seemed more like illumi-
nated smoke, curling, flickering, writhing over
breast, limbs, face—but not skull!

There the cruel scalping-knife had wrought its
horrid Work!

And this was what the eyes of Silverblade be-
held when he came swiftly up and over the hill:
a vision that gave him a far greater shock than
any he had received before.

NThen, he had believed with perfect faith.
out——

With a harsh gasping sound rising in his
throat, the half-b ood rallied, to s ring ast
the cowering figure of Thunder Stri e, to .0p
on his knees at the side of that dimly glowmg
shape. To thrust out a hand toward that
bosom, seemingly bare, yet clothed in a closely-
fitting shirt, as his eyes now told him. To jerk
his hand back, but not through fear of being
burnt by those writhing flames. v

Because he saw that shirt, through which red
blood was forcing its way, showing where the
surely-sent lead had torn a. double passage.
cause that blood told him life had been, though
life was not! '

“ Look 1” gasped Thunder Strike, a trembling
finger pointing to the cast-aside wig, then at the
short-cropped scalp, which partly con-red the
“ Two scalpel”

As though those words broke the horrid spell
which was numbing him, soul and body, Silver-
blade reached out his hands and tore that

inted shirt open—rent it wide, layin bare
Elie bullet-marked ‘bosoml And more! Vhere
the blood had not spread, the white skin showed
all too clearly for further doubt. And stagger-
ing to his feet, the Shoshone reeled away, to sink

in a shivering, moaning, miserable heap!

 

CHAPTER XI.
A siox HEART AND roa'ruaan BRAIN. _

BY this time the hill-crest was covered with
Indians, all eager to see, but very few inclined
to touch, once they caught a glimpse of that
partly unmasked figure, covered with fire which
gave forth, no heat and refused to scorch even
while it flamed.

Those nearest the co when Silverblade
reeled back_ and away, increased rather than
lessened their distance. as though they felt the
sufleriniz SbOBhOHO W83 being punished for having
touched that shape-

And yet—surely, not_evsn after the death bul-
lets had drained his veins of blood, had the skin
of Sitting Bull turned 80. purely white as this?
Was it because spirit life had blanched his skin?
Still, he who was from death to lead his people
on to victory, to life eternal. Ought to show all
red without, eVen who was all red within!

Something like this.whirled through the dizzy
brain of Thunder Strike as he shrunk from, yet
was drawn toward. that awesome thing. A
nameleSs dread urged him to flee, but something
equally strong held him bound by a spell.

A little gust of wind came whirling along the
ridge, and those tiny tongues of smoke-like
flame ran along the body, to quwer under its
lee for a moment. It was much as though a
dark blanket was shutting down over the corpse,
and hard! knowin what words P843881 his lips,
Thunder trike 0 led aloud on his braves to
gather material for a fire. ,

He was promptly obeyed. Action of any sort
was better than staring at that enigma. and
in a very short space of time the surrounding
gloom began to fall back before that ruddy
523w. And at the same time those unearthly

mes began to desert the body lying there

.with its miSplaeed scalp and bullet-pierced
bosom.

 

 

With them fled much of that superstitious
awe, and Thunder Strike drew nearer the corpse.
It called for nerve to touch that object, but he
knew the eyes of his braves were u n him, and
he forced his right forward unti —that gory
scalp was plucked from the face it had partly
cOVered from inspection.

The glow of the fire revealed the symbols ever
worn by Sitting Bull while directing the ghost-
dance: crimson crosses on each cheek, crescents
drawn with blue paint on forehead and chin,
the background being as black as night. But it
revealed still more: the fees of another than the
high priest of the Uiikpapnsl

“ It is not Sitting Bull!” cried Thunder Strike,
taking one keen look, then shrinking back in
doubled ain'Zement.

His words were echoed by a score of tongues
and hearing the united cry, Silverblade rallied
with an effort, crawling toward the body,
bent on fully satisfying his terrible doubts.

He crouched close bwide that ghastly shape,
and after gazing long and intently into that
blood-siiieared face, he once more caught firm
hold of the painted ghost-shirt, tearing it apart,
exposing so much of the body that there was no
longer room for doubt.

It was not Sitting Bull, for he was red. It
was a white man. And having made this point
clear, Silverblade once more staggered back, to
su port himself against a friendly rock.

hat brief silence was broken by a cry of re-
lieved joy, and one of the Sioux sprung to the
corpso, lifting his moccasined foot and planting
it on that bare breast. his voics rising s irilly:

“ See, brothers! We were all tools, all blindl
This is the lying fox we saw our father kill and
scalp! Sitting Bull did not fall—did not die!
Death comes but once toeven a chief, and Sit-
ting Bull has gone to throw dust in the eyes of
the soldiers !”

The relieved Sioux were beginning to take up
that joyous cry, but held their peace as Thunder
Strike lifted a hand with a commanding ges-
ture. Then, in forced calmness he spoke aloud:

“ We all saw. We all heard. There were
two shots. Could even Sitting Bull shoot an
enemv out of a medicine-staff, or with a war-
club?”

“ Does Thunder Strike say that this is the Sit-
ting-Bull our eyes saw?” almost fiercely demand-
ed the other Sioux.

“ Thunder Strike does not say: if he could, his
heart would be much 1i hter than it is now.
All he knows is this: a pa e-face lies dead at his
feet, killed with bullets.”

B ‘iltgfld who killed that pale-face, if not Sitting

u

“Running Bear, the Ogalallah!” cried the
old chief, stoopin and picking up the wig of
horse-hair, to whic was attacheda grimy hit of
paper, on which was drawn a rude :repressnta-
tion of a bear in motion. “See? he left his
totem, that all might know whose knife lifted
this scalp!”

Once more all was confusion, but the “ totem ”
was recognized by the nearer Sioux, and amid
other cries came the words:

“ If Mato Lusa has been here, why not Pa-he.
has-ks, too?”

Instant Silence fell over the gathering, and
more than one scarred warrior instinctively
made his form smaller while flashing keen, ap-
prehensive looks around, ready to leap for the
nearest cover should the noted “Long Hair”
reveal himself.

All knew that Running Bear had been one of
the Ogalallah Sioux taken to England by Buf-
falo Bill, with his Wild West show, and some of
them had seen him at the Agency before the fall
of Sitting Bull. If he had not joined the In-
dian-police, might be not be working under di-
rect orders from the great scout? Might it not
even be that Long Hair had once more taken
the war-path?

Finding that totem, so boldly left behind by
the one it represented, added to that startled
query, greatly helped to scatter those supersti-
tious fears and doubts, and for the moment put
aside the question of whether or no this dead
man could have been what they accepted as
the ghost of Sitting Bull; but Silyei-blade took
no part in the search for a trail which fol.

owed.

Sick at heart, tortured almost beyond endur-
ance by hideous doubts and fears, the young
Shoshone moved away from the scene of death,
with slow, uncertain steps. I '

This blow had fallen upon him With stunning
force. It would have been severe enough at any
time, but coming just when hl_8 religious fever
was at its height, the reaction it caused was be-
yond description.

He could not have suffered sharper pangs had

1

those shots torn a passe. e through his own bod ;
for when he saw that g oat-like vision sudden y
changed to death-reality, a portion of the terri-
ble truth flashed across his brain, and turned his
fervent heart sick to its very core.

He had fought against tbat revelation with all
his power, even while he knew that the truth had
come to him, swift and sure as death had come ,
to yonder masquerading figure. And he was
fighting still as he groped his blinding way down
that rugged slope, neither knowing nor caring
whither his steps were leading him, only con-
scious of the one fact: he must fight back those
hideous doubts, or go mad!

Was it all a fraud! Had he been led so far
astray by lies, instead of guided by truth? Was
there no faith to be laced in even the New Mes—
siah? Was he, too, ut a devil masquerading as.
a saint?

After the first shock of surprise and disappoint.
ment had passed away, Silverhlade had accept- -'~
ed this illuminated vision for what it seemed,
for what all these red-men believed: the resur.
rected high priest, risen to lead his heavily bur.-
dened chi dren to the promised land. I

It was a miracle, but no more than had 'been
prophesied, time and again, by those who saw
and spoke to the Great Spirit in the trance his
gracious power produced. From the very first
they had been advised to flock to the standard
raised by Sitting Bull. He was the chosen repre-
sentative of the New Messiah, in the flesh. What, .
then, so incredible in finding him the Messiah,
himself, now that his mortal body had died, leav—
in his soul at liberty?

it was made clear to Silverblade, and nevsr
another in all that host more firmly believed in
that vision, u to the moment when those death—
shots rung ' orth,‘ cutting that impassioned
speech short, and laying the seeming Messiah
loilv in the last sleep wh ch comes only to war-
its 8.

But now?

“ Was that other vision a lie?” huskily‘gasped
the tortured youth, pausing as he reached the
level, clasping his throbbing temples with both
hands. “ Was that, too, only a hideous fraud?
Have I been tricked by ma! cious devils, from
the very first?”

The bare thought was more bitter than death,
and with a chokin groan, the half blood stag-
gered forward, on y saved from falling by the
act of walking. It was purely instinct that led
him in the direction of the camp, for just then
his e es saw nothing, his ears heard naught; he
was lind, deaf and dumb to all save those hor—
rible doubts. ‘

He came almost in contact with an advancin
yet shrinking figure, but he knew it not, no
the faint, pleading voice of Little Eird came 
through t e gloom, and a trembling hand
touched his arm: '

“ Silverblade—brother?”

The youth paused, staring stu idly at that
shadowy form, and Little Bird k courage
from his apparent attention, adding rapidly and
in more natural tones:

“ Little Bird has been seeking her—her
brother,” with a brief catch in her voice
fore that title could be spoken. “She wanted
to warn him of danger, while he walks the night, ~
for Red Leaf—” .

A low, snarling cry escaped }he Shoshone.

“ That demon! Red Leaf ed me to worse
than death! Red Maf—” -

His hands shot out and closed upon that
shrinking, fri htened form. He Jerked Little
Bird close to im, staring wildly into her face
for a single breath, then flung her rudely aside
as a sound—real or fanCied—canie to his ears
from behind. a _ . - Y \.

He snatched a knife_ from his girdle as he i
sprung swiftly in that direction, his eyes roving .
fiercely around inquest of his prey; for in thow '
mad moments his sole Wish was to meet and slay i.
the false prophet who had so horribly led him 
aetray. - ‘ p;

It was but the madness of a moment. are 7 
was no enemy before him, and once more Sil er. 
blade fell a prey to his hideous doubts. - . .

He staggered onward a short distance, but 1;,
then his ste grew slower, to finally cease. He 3 ‘
stood with wed head, with empty hands. The a,
knifehad fallen from his nerveless fingers when ‘ w l
he knew he had only his wavering faith to do ,ij

battle with. . . - _ ;,
His belief was his life! To lose that, woume {,2

- bidding adieu to all ho ,all light, all future‘

content.‘ He could not outta—and so assuring 
himself, be doubted still the more. ,a.
It was an hour to turn black hair gray, to ‘.
.make an aged man of a recently ardent youth. ‘
And if he had been among the v lest sinners this ~"

 

earth was ever cursed with, that hour would? :

 

 

 

   

 

 

\

 

 

have gone far toward making expiation for Si!-
verblade, son of Weenamoo.

He clinched his teeth, his hands, fightin it out
in deadly silence. He was lost to all else at his
awful torments. He had forgotten the Sioux,
nor did he hear them as they came down the
hill ,On their return to camp. He had forgotten

r Little Bird and her broken warning of
impending danger. He could only give thought
to that terrible shock, received when the false
spirit went down in death before those shots.

He never knew that evil eyes had sought for
and singled him out from the dim shadows cast
by the scattered evergreens. He never heard
these catlike footfalls as a crouching shape
stole, foot by foot, then inch by inch, nearer
and nearer to his back. He never knew that a
red reflection was sent shimmering'through one
of those pines, as a barod blade caught the glow
of yonder fresheued camp-fire.

But such were the facts, and with a devilish
triumph already sparkling in his greenish-gray
eyes, Zeno Godfrey lifted his armed hand and
gathered his muscles for the leap which was to
forevsr end the young life he had so remorse-
lessly shadowed during the few months past.

He had not dared join the deluded Sioux,
after being spied upon by Little Bird and the
half-blood, because he did not know how much
they might have discovered of his treachery.
And after witnessing the fall in death of one of
his confederates, he knew that discovery must
surely follow investigation, and he lingered only
in fierce ho es of killing the youth he had ever
hated, but ad spared that he might make him
subserve his crafty ends.

Now—his time had come, at last!

With a snarl as vicwus as it was low, Godfrey
leaped forward to bury his long blade in that
bowed back: but as he made his leap, a dark
form darted between the two men, with a shrill,
far-reaching cry. .

. CHAPTER XII.
THE BORDER BEAGLE’S BIG HAUL.

IT was Mate Lusa’s keen eye that glanced
through those double-sights, clearly visible with
that phosphorescent glow twining about his tar-
get, and it was the unerring aim of Running
Bear, the Ogalallah, that‘laid the living ghost
1 in death. I

ith a low,vfierce chuckle the Indian scout
sprung forward as the figure of light dropped to
the rock which covared his slayer from view of
those marveling yet believing eyes on the level
below. He caught one of those quivering hands,
and jerked the body from the rook, then tore off
the wig of woven horse-hair, to give his ruthless
knife free play. He dropped the gory scalp on
that upturned face, then fastened his totem to

 

'the wig, chuckling again as he left this message

for such eyes as might seek to read its meaning.

The wild outburst from the plain warned him
to flight, and springing from rock to rock so
that as slight a trail as possible might be left
behind, he was quickly under cover, where his
progre might be more leisurely.

“ Sitting Bull twice dead, now l” he muttered
to himself, with a repetition of that grim chuckle,
picking his way rapidly yet noiselessly through
that difficult bit of ground, casting occasional
glances backward. “Running Bear wish he
might wait to see, but don’t he know? And his
ears will catch‘ their howls when they find that
even a ghost-shirt can’t stop death from finding
a heart!”

He was reluctant to flee beyond eye-range, but
he knew that there was one awaiting his com-
ing whose anger would be red-hot, as it was.
And even he, with all his recklessness, did not
dare' 0 too far.

It id not take long for the active Sioux to
reach the point he was aiming for: a. snug
covert among the rocks and .pines, not far from
the spot where the imitation ghost of Sitting
Bull had made its first. appearance; and here be
was sternly greeted by Big Horn Buck, the Bor-
der Beagle.

“ You fired those shots, Running Bear?”

“ Me shoot—me kill, tool” half-sulkily replied
the savage, but giving his rifle a shake of fierce
triumph as he flashed a look into those other
faces: all red, like his own, save that of the de-
tective _

For a single breath the odds were ‘even that
Running Bear Would have to pay the finalty

, due his recent transgression; at then orton
choked back his anger, coldly speaking: '
“ Why did you kill, when said capture ?”

“No time fo’ ketch. Heap Injun come up

V hill—mad fo’ go ’way to Bad Lands. But why

we kill. Now dey know fools. Now dey don‘t
know what do next. But why, Big Horn.”
_ The Border Beagle made no immediate treply.

 

He could fully appreciate the defense oiferedfiy
Running Bear, from a savage standpoint. e
knew that, even had that seeming spirit vanished
before their mad rush, it would be long odds in
favor of the band under Thunder Strike making
an immediate push for the Bad Lands even
though they had to cut a way through t e cor-
don of soldiers. Now, they surely must discover
how thoroughly they had been befooled, and
that fact might make them doubt even the truth
of the inuch-talked-of Indian Messiah.

Big Horn had carefull laid his plans to cap-
ture the entire band of host-makers, and this
sanguinary act might seriously endanger his
cherished hopes. Still, he knew that the deed of
Running Bear would almost certainly save lives
in the end, and that reflection helped him keep
a check on his anger.

“ You are like a soldier, now, Running Bear.
Your agent placed you under in command.
You had no righttoshoot, when said not. I
am very angry with you, but—this is no time to
punish your disobedience.

“ There is work for us all to do. Come! I
have given you,your orders. Follow them, to
the letter, for I’ll kill the first who dares step
over the line I have marked out!”

Keeping well under cover, Big Horn Buck led
tile way to the pile of racks in front of which
Zeno Godfrey had paused to give his signal,
after being warned of peril by the falsc ghost.
And, crouching low for a little, Big Horn once
more whispered his orders to those eager Sioux.

Then, moving ahead a few paces, he sent
forth a low, tremulous whistle, to which a

y answer was giVen. Then the rock swung
aside. and a husky voice muttered quickly:

“ Who is it?”

“ I—Godfrey,” answered the detective, press-
ing in through the opening, to add in that stolen

voice:
et?”

“ Rest come in,
“ Not yet, but— ’
Two siuewy hands closed about

That was‘ all.

:his throat in the darkness, and as Big Horn
forced his prey backward, he sent a low call

over his shoulder, which brought his Indians
swiftly to the entrance.

“Come in. Leave the rock open. Capture
any one who comes, if I’m not back in time,” he
swiftly said, then bade Running Bear follow, he
half-dragged, half-pushed his nearly senseless
prisoner through the passage until the blanket-
screen was pa5sed and the cavern proper gained.

He cast one keen glance into the swollen face
of his captive, and despite that fact, together
with the mask of paint which covered it over,
he recognized those features.

“ Horace Perkins! I reckoned as much, when
I heard our sweet voice singing out, pardner!”
with a s ort, grim laugh.

“ ’Nodder ghost, eh i” chflckled Running Bear,
licking his thick lips as be mechanically finger-
ed his knife. “ Bes’ mek ’um sure-pop ghost!”

“Harm him, and I’ll make a ghost out of
you I” sternly growled Big Horn, producing
thongs from his pocket with which to securely
bind and gag his prisoner. “ You will guard
him, Bear. f he dies, I’ll kill you.”

But Big Horn Buck valued his prize too high-
ly to leave him alone with the sanguinary
Ogalallah, now that he had tasted blood. He
was forced to leave the cave, but he was not
long in instructing the Indians whom he found
in the passage, and sending all save one back to
pkg their parts in the cavern.

e along knew how to work the rock—door,
and he alone could hope to deceive those whom
he expected to entrap ere long. He knew that
there were three others of the ghost-making
gang, without counting the dead member, or
Zeno Godfrey. Hidknew that they must have
seen something h gone wrong with the
programme, and be naturally looked for a hasty
rallying at this rendezvous.

“ They may come in a bunch, though I hope
they’ll drop in singly,” he explained before send-
ing his braves back to the lighted space. “If
they come more than one at a time, I’ll pass
them along, and you must attend to them as they
enter the cave. Take them alive, and unhurt,
or I swear I’ll kill the ones who break orders 1”

Big Horn retained one of the Sioux to assist
him in case a second Ghost-maker should come
up while he was mastering an earlier arrival,
hat as fortune decided, this emergency did not
a 56. .
'He had scarcely given his orders, when a hur-
ried, imperfect signal came from below the
rock point, and as Big Horn answered it, one

of t e gang came hurriedly through the Open-
ing, spluttering:

“ Deuce to pay, Perk! Link shot, and—”

“ You trapped l” gratineg muttered Big Horn,

 

as his muscular fingers gripped that throbbing
throat. “ Watch for the next, Injun!”

Despite the struggles of the athletic Ghost-
maker, Big Horn drag ed him back to the cave,
where he ordered the ndians to bind and gag
him, then hurried back to his post near the
almost closed 0 ening.

There was a onger wait before the next move,
but at length the signal was given, and as
he peered forth, Big Horn Buck caught sight of
at least two dim shadows, and whispering to his
assistant to go back and warn his mates, he sent
forth the answering note.

He did not swing the rock fairly aside until
that brief flash of light, as the blanket-screen
opened and closed, had vanished; but as the
pivoted rock swung aside, and .only two men
stoopgd to enter, he asked:

“ hero’s Godfrey?”

“Deuce knows—I don’t!

“ With you, all but Link.”

“And Iw’s past coming—on his own hoofsl”
growled the fellow, crowding past the one whom
he mistook for Perkins. “ Some devil shot. poor
Seymore and we’ve got to skin out 0’ this in a
holy hurry!”

“ Go on—tell me all when-I—if Godfrey comes,
let him signal,” mumbled Big Horn Buck, clos-
ing the opening so that but a crack remained to

revent its locking, then pressing hard upon the
Eeels of the two frightened Ghost-makers.

They flung open the blanket-screen, and were
fairly inside the cave before a suspicion of peril
came to them: and then it was too late even to
offer fight. One went down before Big Horn,"
and half a dozen red-skins covered his mate out
of sight, half-smothering him before they put his
limbs in bonds. '

Then rising to his feet, the Border Beagle
gave a ow, grim chuckle of intense satisfaction
as be summed up the big haul he had made.
And surely be had cause for self-gratulation.

There was but one drawback: the killing of
Link Seymore. For, he hardly felt a doubt but
that, as soon as practicable, Zeno Godfrey would
hasten to join his fellow-schemers, when the
round-up would be complete. It had taken time
and many privations, to say nothing of the peril
encountered before that point was gained: still,
the game was richly worth all it had cost, so far.

Knowing that Godfrey would pause to ive
the signal before attempting to enter, Big orn
Buck felt no uneasiness in leaving the entrance
unguarded for a few moments. He hoped. to
gain some information'from his first captive,
and drawing a knife to cut the then s that held
the gag in place, he stooped over orace Per-
kins, saying: '

“I’m going to free your jaws, pardner, but if
you try to cry out, I’ll make _a still wider mouth
right below your chin! Fair warning, Horace
Perkins! And now—out comes the stopper!”

Retainin the gag for further use in case of
need, Big oru Buck squatted down beside the
bound Ghost-maker, speaking deliberately:

“ Of course it would be wasting breath to tell
you that we’ve dropped to your little game, Per-
kins, so I’ll pass over all that. Now, when do
you look for Zeno Godfrey back here?”

As he asked _that question, Big Horn toyed
with his knife in a significant manner, which
was sufficient to unlock those lips, had their
owner been even worse frightened.

“ Never!” huskil y muttered the knave, shrink-
ing as far as his bonds would permit. “ I reckon
he’s one—wish I’d been as wise!” I

“ asked for truth, not lies, please best In
mind.” with ominous politeness. “ How do you
signal Red Leaf when he’s wanted in here?”

“ It’s no use, I swear. Big Horn! He said he
was off as soon as he’d killed SiIVerblade, the—”

Big Horn Buck sprung to his feet with a sav—
age snarl, crying out:

“If he’s harmed my boy, I’ll kill him like a
dog! And I’ll turn you all over to the Sioux for
a general roast—I Wear it, by Heaven 1”

Who’s come in?”

 

CHAPTER XIII.
THE END OF A CROOKED TRAIL.

HIS painful hropding broken by that shrill
scream, Silverblade mechanically sprung ahead,
then wheeled with hand gripping the weapons
at his waist, to catch an indistinct glimpse of
two figures apparently locked in a death-grep.

ple.

Only a glimpse, for even as he looked, the
shorter, slighter figure was cast aside by its an-
tagonist, and at the same instant there came the
panting warning: I

“ Red Leaf kill—Little Bird tried—”

The Sioux maid struck the frozen ground, her
warning incomplete but Leaf supplied
what was lacking. With blade reddened by that



 

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-‘:~..-v. :‘57‘D‘qu

 

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9
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Silverblade, the Hostile.

13“

 

 

intercepted stroke, he dashed‘ upon Silverblade,
snarling wolfishly, knowing‘ that his dastardly
work must be wrought right speedily, if at all.
For, not content with her first wild cry, Little
Bird was lifting her voice again, sounding the
alarm so familiar to cars of the Sioux braves.

To any other foeman, Silverblade might have
fallen an easy victim, just then, thanks to the
terrible shock he had so recently received; but
never to Red Leaf, whose lying tongue ,had led
him so far astray, '

“Devil! I’ll eat your heart! I’ll drink your
blood!” .

Godfrey struck viciously as .he made his leap,
but his wrist fell into the lifting hand of the
half-blood and the stroke was foiled, if not
entirely checked. Red Leaf’s band was swe t
aside at an an 16. and then his arm was chec -
ed, despite his ercest efforts to drive that keen
blade home, through the ribs of his youthful ad-
versary.

He tried to jerk away but those slender fin-
gers had a grip of steel. He thought to snatch
forth and use with his left hand a pistol, but in
that as well, he was foiled. For Silverblade,
all fire and fury now that he felt his betra or
had come to find his own punishment, clo in
antgdpressed the fight, paying no heed to the ex-
ci yells which were even then coming from
the Sioux encampment.

Until this moment Zeno Godfrey had held
Silverblade in contempt, as but an overgrown
child. He would have scorned himself had rea-
son warned him he would find in that stripling
a foeman well worthy his steel. But now—his
eyes were quick]; opened to the truth.

There was a as rate struggle for not more
than a dozen secon Then the two men went
down—with Red Leaf underneath!

A short, snarling sound escaped his lips as he
struck the earth, but the next instant his tense
muscles relaxed, and he lay like one killed in the
very act of falling.

Although he had so proudly, so defianth de—
clared himself a hostile, Silverblade was but a
novice in the art of hand-to-hand fighting.
Then, too, his white blood carried a certain
degree of chivalry with it. And so, with a
curious mixture of fierce joy, awe, doubt, the
half-blood slackened his grip, then drew back, as
though to give his adversary an opportunity to
re ain his footin and renew the fight.

at Zeno frey lay just as he had fallen
his only motion bein a convulsive shivering of
the head and shoul ers, his only sound _a low
rasping breath, which might mean whispered
curses for his sla er.

Before Silver lade had fairly regained his
feet, Little Bird was at his side, asking inco-
herent questions, mingled with panting sobs
over which she had no longer control.

And then, several bearin brands snatched
from the nearest fire, the a armed Sioux came
rushing up. to begreeted b the fallen prophet
with a husky cry. then the area char :

“Kill. himl Kill Silverblade! e stabbed
your priest—m the back! See, where—”

With What appeared to be an expiring effort,
the false prophet turned himself over, and there
——he was right, 80 far} from his back protruded
the silver-mounted hill: of a knife, the blade of
which was hidden in the quivering flesh!

Silverblade started back with a low ejacula-
tion, his already disordered wits still further be-
wildered by that V1910“ Charge of assassination.
Even Thunder Strike, who was among the fore-
most to reach the Spot. seemed horror-stricken
at the bare suspicion of such a deed.

“ He lies! Red Leaf lies!” panted Little Bird,
now standing between those angered braves and
the youth whose life she had for the second time

reserved. “ He tried to kill the Shoshone, but

ittle Bird—see!” and one hand laid bare the
ugly gash marking her lump shoulder. “ This
is where Red Leaf struc first!"

“She lies!" snarled Godfrey, vainly Striving
to riso, then foiled again as he strove to turn
over. “ I caught them—he was making a fool
of her, When I—” _

“ Stop!” harshly thundered the Brule Chieftain,
springing forward, one arm clas ing_ his child
to his side, the other waving bac his excited
braves. “There is a right way but so is there
another that is all wrong. Red Leaf, prophet of
the Messiah! If you have been wronged b
another even though that other is of my blood,
you she —-

“ Kill—curse—ah-h-h 1”

One swift shugger that seemed {a cough]? the
upper portion 0 is bod et to one is ower
limbs motionless as thouihythey had been settled
33131 lthe finger of death, then Zeno Godfrey 18?

At a sign from Thunder Strike, several braves

 

grasped and disarmed the son of Weenamoo.
Silverblade made no resistance. That black
shadow was coming back OVer heart and brain,
and he found little value in life.

Other braves lifted the limp, nerveless form of
the prophet, hearing it across to the nearest fire,
where their most skillful doctor was summoned.
He came quickly, but before his arrival, a
startling discovery had been made.

The knife buried to its hilt in the back of Red
Leaf, was his own!

No one could explain just how it had happen-
ed, and Silverblade, least of all. When he came
to be questioned—which was not until after-
ward—all he could say was that he had caught
that armed hand as it came for his heart; that
he had closed in with Red Leaf, and a fall took
place, after a brief struggle.

He had never touched the weapon itself, never
struck a blow at his assailant. And so declar-
ing, he left them to draw their own conclusions;
that, in some manner, Red Leaf’s armed hand
had been twisted around behind him, or else
that he had instinctively flung it back to break
the shock when he found himself falling under-
neath.

After all, it was little matter now how the
prophet received his hurt, in the face of the fact
that his time had come. For, aftera careful
examination by their wisest medicine-man, Red
Leaf was pronounced hurt unto death.

His iue had received serious injury, benumb-
ing his ower limbs, and death was creeping inch
by inch toward his heart.

There was an awful scene when Zeno Godfrey
first heard this verdict. He would not believe
himself a dying man. He would cheat them all!
He would live to see Silverblade dead and-—

But as that awful numbness made itself felt,
even through his mad rage, there came with it
another change. And then, when he knew that
his hours, his minutes, even, were surely num-
bered, the false prophet recklessly tore away the
cunning mask he had worn so long, revealing
himself as he actually was, as those simple red-
men had belieVed.

“ I am white—all white!" he huskin panted,
his eyes glowing with the greenish luster which
marks a frightened cat. “ I have done all I
knew how to wipe out your thrice-accursed race!
If I had been given life long enough, every red-
skinned devil in America would have died the
death of dogs!”

There were brief intervals during which his
awful passion seemed to die away, as through
bodily exhaustion, and it was during one of
these that Zeno Godfre begged for Silverblade,
the Shoshone, to come efore him.

“ Say that I am dying,” he faintly whispered.
“ Say that I cannot take up the last trail with-
out— Fetch! I must see the boy i”

The son of Weenamoo came in response to that
urgent message but those lids were closed, and
Zeno Godfrey lay like a corpse. The hand of
death had imprinted its sign on that painted
face. Those deep lines could not be mistaken.
Wah- a-doo-tah had run his last course!

“ ait,” faintly murmured Godfng, as Sil-
verblade was turning away thinking eath had
forestalled his coming. ‘ fwant—lower—come
nearer, so I—whisper, for you must—know—”

Silverblade silently sunk upon his knees by
the Side'Of the man who had done so much to
blight his youth. He knew much of this, now,
although no open confession had been made.
And yet—he could not hate his enemy, now that
he lay such an utter wreck as this!

“Lower—come closer!” panted Godfrey, his
voice so weak as to strongly contrast with that
fierce fire which leaped into his eyes.

Then, the hand which had been hidden in the
folds of his blanket, jerked forth a cooked re-
volver, thrusting the muzzle directly against
that honest breast, while his left hand flew up
to grip Silverblade. by the throat!

So sudden was it all, that the half-blood was
completely helpless,.and though a score of active
Sioux were standing around, watching and
listening, all was over before a band could be
lifted to check that murderous effort.

Over—but not as Zeno Godfrey had hoped,
bad wickedly prayed!

The pointed hammer fell, striking the primer
fairly, but only a dull click followed. Godfrey
had used the weapon for years, and with it that
same make of cartridges. In all that time he
had. never met with a miss-fire until just new]

Silverblade wrested the weaPOD away before
another attempt at murder could be made,
Bringing back and to his feetas he did so. And
3 6!)..driven frantic with rage at seeing his last
dev1hsh scheme frustrated, Zeno Godfrey let
1113 tongue loose, pouring forth a flood of curses,

and mingling with them words which cast light

 

on more than one dark place in Silverblade’s
mind.

“I hated you from the very first, David
Woodbridge! I had to fight against the tempta-
tion to slit your throat, even while I was s cak-
ing most lovingly into your fool’ ear! utl
wanted your inheritance, and 1 saw only one
sure method of gaining it: I would drive you
into the ranks of the hostiles, and then—l was
a fool, but I thought I was very wise—then !"

He concealed nothing, now. He told how
he had been one among many others hired to
spread the ghost-dance (true. He told how he
had helped convert Silverblade, by a false Mes-
siah. And then, speaking truth even amidst his
wildest ravings, he told how, as a final resort,
those paid emissaries bad concocted the trick of
Sitting Bull’s host.

Awed, bewfidered, Thunder Strike and the
other chiefs present listened to these astound-
ing revelations, too nearly spellbound to think
of forcing a still more valuable confession be—
fore it should be too late. Then, when such an
effort was made. it failed, for Zeno Godfrey
had worn himself out by that fierce outburst of
unholy rage.

As the sun reached a point overhead, the end
came: horrible as had been the entire scene,
its termination was still worse.

CHAPTER XIV.
FIGHTING AGAINST CONVICTION.

IF that death had robbed him of his dearest
friend: if yonder grim corpse had been the re-
vered ashes of his mother, father or sister: the
young Shoshone could hardly have received a
greater shock.

For hours he sat apart from all others, his
arms claspin his knees, and his head bowed in
the hollow 1: us formed, all covered over with
the blanket he wore, thinking, brooding, heart-
sick and brain-weary.

He had abandoned father and sister, sustained
only by the sympathy of his Indian mother, to
follow—what?

Was it all a hideous lie? Was there no truth
in this world? Were all things evil, all things
vile, all full of mocking treachery? \Vas there
no hope for his long-suffering people? Was there
not even a Messiah? .

That doubt was the bitterest of all! He could
have borne up under everything else, if that
faith—only a short day ago so strong, so perfect,
so full of solemn joy in the assurance that the
day of redemption was close at hand—had only
been left him!

For it had been wrested away despite his.
recent vows to cling to his faith. He would not
doubt, yet he could not help doubting. He
would retain all his former belief, but eVen as he
told himself this, Silverblade felt his belief slow-
] but surely slipping away, to give place to
t ose doubts, worse than death, which Zeno
Godfre had left him with his dying curses.

The hoshone never knew how those hours
crept past, save by the scars they left on his
heart; deeper, more lastin even than the lines
they drew upon his face, b acker than the shad-
ows their fingers painted beneath his haggard,
sunken eyes. _

He never knew when, after due consultation
among the chiefs, the corpse of Zeno Godfre —-
no longer known as Wah-paodoo-tah, the e ect
of the New Messiah—was dragged across them-
closed valley, to be stripped of its medicme-
garb, to be robbed of its symbolical paint, to be!
left naked as when it came into the world, to be
exposed on those bare rocks, for the hungry
wolves or foul buzzards to feast upon. .

It was the doom befitting such a traitor; and
gravely, sternly, silently that doom was carried
out by the Sioux whom he had so lon I cheated.

Silverblade never knew how often ittle Bird,
her flesh wound dressed, but her aching heart
wounded even more deeply by the sight of that.
inconsolable despair, passed slowly before him,
longing yet fearing to drop a word of comfort in
his ears.

He never understood if he heard Thunder
Strike asking him to join in the council which
was about to convene. And after twice speak-
ing without receiving an answer, the old war-
rior withdrew, to report that the finger of the
Great Spirit was resting on the brain of the
Snake—child.

It could hardly be said that haknew what he
was doing when, near dusk, Silverblade rose
from where he had assed so many hours, movmg
stifily, sinful! , li e one weighed down with the
infirmi es of o d age. He did not know that he
was moving toward the hill: where the night
before, the false ghost of Sittin Bull had been
changed to the real ghost of ink Seymore.
All he knew was that he must do something, find.

 

 

  

 
   

14

Silverblade the Hostile.

 

 

something, to kill that hideous torture which
was slowly eating his heart out.

“ Davie, lad l”

Silverblade gave a short, gasping cry as that
sound came to his ear. His bent form straight-
ened up. His hands rose to clasp his head, then
brushed almost fiercely across his e es, like one
tearing away a veil that sniothere even while
blinding.

“ Davie, boy-pnrd l”

Silverblade reeled, and would have fallen
among;r the rocks, only for the stron arm that
lent him such timely Bu port. And, alf-laugh-
ing, half sobbing, Big orn Buck, moved as he
never remembered having been moved before,
hugged that shivering, unnerved form to his
broad abosom, murmuring words of consolation
and of cheer.

“ I know it all, Davie, ladl I was down
vonder last night—I went to save your life or

ose my own by our side! I know how you
igiust ,have suffers , learning the truth like this,
ut—

With a desperate effort the half—blood rallied,
slipping out of those arms before Horton divin-
ed his purpose, hOarsely panting:

“ Davie is dead! I am Silverblade—I am red
——all red I”

For a single breath the Border Bea le was
taken all aback, but then he rallied. e felt
that now or never was his chance. If they

arted again, as the parted before, with that
insane delusion still a ive in that heart and brain,
he knew that death alone could work a cure.

“ You were never more than half red, David
Woodbridge, and God’s own truth is turning
that half ure white, if you’ll only let it work!
I’ve been coking for you, all day. Now you’ve
come, I mean to hold you fast until your eyes
are fairly opened 1’

Swift as thought the Shoshone drew his knife,
his hand rising for the stroke. It might have
fallen in his madness, had Horton shrunk away,
or touched a weapon with which to meet that
assault. Instead, Big Horn tore 0 on his shirt,
baring his honest bosom, stepping orward as he
sternly spoke:

“Send it home, David Woodbridge! Strike,
then go tell yonder red-skins that you’ve proved
your right to form one of the gang, by slaying
your best, firmest friend i" ‘

Abrief pause, then that armed hand slowly
sunk. And the half-blood huskily muttered:

“ I can not—it’s like striking—why do you bar
my way, Big Horn?"

‘ Because that way leads to madness, if not to
the gallows,” came the stern yet sad retort.
“ Because I’m bound not to stand idly by and see
you go blindly to ruin, David Wood ridge.”

“ l am—there was a David Woodbridge, but
he is dead l" r

“ N ot dead, but under a spell,” came the swift
retort. “ And I’m goin to break that spell,
Davie, lad,” a strong band closing upon his arm.
“ I’m going to kill or cure, for you’re a mighty
sight worse than dead, this way! You’ll come
With me, Davie?”

‘ ‘ Where? What for? I don’t—I can’t under-
stand what is the matter with my head!” husk-
ily muttered the youth, first resisting, then yield-
ing to that friend] force, moving further among
the rocks. I am ilverblade—you are white—
we ought to fight, but-”

“ You’ll have to do the fighting for all hands,
then, Davie,” laughed Horton, choking back his
strong emotion as best he could.

He knew that the fanatic had received a pain-
ful shock when the double-dealing of Zeno God-
frey was exposed, but he had hardly looked for
such utter prostration as this. Still, he would
not doubt. He must fairly open those dazed
eyes, and with truth would return stren th.

Indeed, though it hardly showed itsel on the
surface, as yet, Silverblade had already gained
strength of both body and brain by that meeting
with his old-time friend. And as they wound
along thrOugh the thick-lying rocks, each minute
was doing its part toward reviving that stunned
mechanism.

“What is this?” demanded Silverblade as, in
response to a whistle from the lips of Big Horn,
an opening made itself visible among a mass of
rocks. “ Where are you taking me, Big
Horn?”

“ Where I trust you’ll find the right medicine
for a diseased mind, Davie,” said Horton, genth
but firmly ressing the youth into that dar
passage. “ urely, you’re not afraid to trust
your old friend i”

“ Silverblade knows no fear,” was the proud
retort, giving Horton a disagreeable shock; it
sounded too much like the fanatic of old!

He said nothing more until they both stood
erect in that lighted retreat, but he keenly

. .4 - pay». -.. .— .. .w“._..-- an...“ "iv—"-

 

watched the face of the half-blood as Silverblade
took note of the surroundings.

Yonder lay the bound forms of Horace Per-
kins, Theron Clark, Pierre Crevier and Thomas
Acton, the four surviving members of the
Ghost-making Gang. And on the opposite side
of the irregularly shaped chamber, squatted the
figures of six Sioux warriors, smoking their

ipes and half-maliciously watching the young

hoshone.

“ These are my friends, and that makes them
yours, as well,” said Horton, motioning a hand
toward the Indians, only to be prevented from
adding more by Silverblade, who stern] said:

“They are not friends of mine hey are
Friepdlies. Silverblade is a hostile—he is all
red! '

“Hoohl” grunted Running Bear, sending a
stream of blue smoke t0ward the proud speaker.
“ I hear a coyote yelpiugl”

Big Horn Buck made a stern, even fierce
gesture for silence, then turned Silvarblade
partly around, so that he squarely faced the cap-
tives.

“ We’ll settle terms with the Friendlies, lad,
after a bit. They are my friends, and the
ought to be yours, as well, but if tyou cant
agree, I’ll see that you don’t fafl to u ling hair.
Now—these are the fellows who elped Zeno
Godfrey fool many an older, if not wiser, man
than you, Davie! These are the Ghost-makers
of last night.”

“ They are do s, and make the air stink with
their breath,” co dly said the half-blood, his eyes
glittering with hidden hatred. “ Why are they
not cast out to poison the huzzards?”

“They deserve such a fate, no doubt, Davie,
but we whites go to work after another fashion.
Now—these very fellows helped Godfrey play
the Messiah, when you thought you beheld the
pure quill, out west, lad l”

“ I hear, but I do not believe,” was the dogged
res use. .

‘ Tell him the plain truth, Perkins,” nodded
Horton. “Recall the ver words you spoke
when he questioned you, if on can. Don’t
fear. I’ll go bail Davie dent harm you for
speaking out the simple truth.”

Though with evident reluctance, the Ghost—
maker obeyed. He went into detail, and told
such a straight story that, dospite his firm re-
solve not to believe, Silverblade felt his faith
still further shaken by that recital.

“ Add all this to what Godfrey must have let
drop in his madness before he died, Davie, and
then tell me: can you still believe in this fabled
Indian Messiah?”

“ Silverblade has listened and he still has
faith!” was the swift response. “ Does one lie
blot out all truth? Because one blind man slips
on a smooth place, are all others to fall? If one
man steals are there none but thieves under the
heavens? l‘lo! There is truth, honor, faith—
and while Silverblade can draw a breath, just
so long will he believe in the Coming Messiah!”

Big Horn Buck frowned involuntarily, for he
had counted surely on this revelation winning
the victory. For the moment he did not kn0w
what to do or say next, and before he could
shape a fitting reply, Running Bear, the Ogalal-
lah, spoke up harshly: _

“ If the Messiah is true, then his word about
the holy coats must also be right. The fool who
played Sitting Bull’s ghost, last night, wore a
ghost-shirt, but Running Bear’s lead found his
heart!

 

CHAPTER XV.
TESTING run oaosr SPIRIT.

SILVERBLADE flashed a look of scorn upon the
save e, before replying to that taunt:

“ he coat was a lie, even as the heart it cov-
ered was a fraud. If it had been blessed by the
Indian. Messiah, Running Bear never would
have fired twice—even at its wearer’s back l”

That taunt went home, for Mate Lusa started
forward with hand on a pistol- butt as he
snarled:

“ You carry a holy cost, but—”

Big Horn sprung between the two men, and
while one hand gripped Running Bear’s right
arm, preventing him from fairly drawing that
weapon, with his other he made a gesture which
even that turbulent brave could not misinter-
pret.

“ Running Bear is like a fool that is drunk!
If he must fight, Big Horn stands ready to show
him who is chief, here. Back, and hide your
face, 0 alallah! It does not look good in my
eyes! t is not the face of the real Running
Bear! Go, or Big Horn will kill the face-thief!”

That stern, deadly gaze, even more than the

- -W-.. _.... -_.

 

words which the Border Beagle used, cowed the
blustering savage, and he slewly shrunk back,
to resume his former station with the other
smokers.

As for them, they had watched and heark-
ened in stoical silence, but now they gave a sim-
ultaneous grunt of grim approval. Possibly
they were themselves growing tired of Runnin
Bear’s “bumptiousness,” since he had counted
the first coup of the expedition.

Horton did not waste another thought on his
bothersome follower, but turned to Silverblade,
a bright light glowing in his eyes. He had been
almost at the point of despairing, but now he
saw another chance of opening those fanatical
eyes to the simple truth.

This hint was given him, partly by the words
Running Bear let drop in making that unfinished
challenge, but more by the involuntary action
of Silverblade himself: his left hand seeking a
neatly~rolled bundle attached to his belt.

“It is the ghost shirt, Davie. lad?” he mut-
tered, gently, touching the halfohlood on the

arm.

“ It is the holy coat—yes,” proudly bowed the
Shoshone.

Big Horn Buck asked no further questions,
just then. He had learned sufficient for the im-
mediate present, and his active wits were decid-
ing in what manner he could improve the chance
he saw before him.

He had investigated the “ ghost shirt," or
“ holy coat” matter, long since. He knew that
this was one method by which Sitting Bull and
other disconteuts among the Sioux tribes hoped
to gain bold recruits to their dangerous doctrine.
He who was invested with one of these mar-
velous garments, fashioned by the hand of the
Messiah, decorated by the hand of his earthly
representative, the high priest of the Unkpapas,
might enter battle against the heaviest odds,
without fear of being scathed by bullet or steel.
If a shot was aimed at the wearer of the ghost-
shirt, the battered lead would fly back to destroy
him who sent it on such an im ious mission!
And so with steel: he who struc must sufler
the full penalty!

“ Siverhlade, son of Weenamoo,” said Big
Born, in the tongue of the Mother Snake. “ Your
ears have drank in the words passing the lips of
this crushed lizard: do you still have faith in the
Coming Messiah?”

“Silverblade has faith—without it, he would
burn up with fever, and die like a poisoned dog!”

Big Horn broke intoa low, easy laugh, slip-

inga hand through an arm of his boy-pard,
reading him toward the blanket-screen.

“ If that’s the case, reckon I might as well save
my wind, eh, Davie? But you’ll not be too proud
to take a little stroll with the fellow you used to
call ard?”

Si verblade bower] his willingness, but there
was a per lexed look upon his face as Horton led
the way t rough the low passage and out under
the bri htly twinkling stars. He could not com-
prehen why Bi 'Horn had so abruptly aban-
doned the hope w ich he had so earnestly, almost
fierCely, displa ed, but a few moments earlier.

Still, he mat a no remark, asked no question,
following his old friend through the night un-
hesitatingly, though each step was carrying him
further away from the camp of the Sioux, with
whom he had cast his lot after the fall of Sitting
Bull.

“ Don’t you think it, lad l” Horton snddegliy
said. as be aused, to confront the half-blo ,
answering t ose thoughts before they tOok shape
in words. “I’m going to save you from your-
self, if any one man can do it! I promised Little
Sure Shot, your sister, I’d bring you back to her,
safe and sound, honest and manly as you Went
away.”

“ Silverblade will go of his own accord, when
the Messiah reigns!”

“ There can be but one Messiah, and I’m pray-
ing to Him for power to save one of His stray-
ing lambs, David Woodbridge,” said Horton,
with solemn earnestness; but then, With an
abrupt change of tone and manner, he added:
“ That’s all right, Davie! I’m a man. you’re
another. I’m a bit older than you and I’ve
seen considerably more of the world and its
trickeries. Still, I’m going to giva you a per.
fectly square deal. _

“ You believe in the Indian Messiah. You
carry the shiit his hands made. You believe
that is all Sitting Bull swore, when it passed
from his hand into yours?” _

Silverblade bowed assent. Just then he hard-
} dared trust his tongue to make answer.

his man was his frien , as far as any one of

the prescribed blood could be. _ He would not
quarrel with him or With his impious un-
belief. That was his misfortune not his crime.

 

 

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pa” £1. .<

.. .. -__:.

kr‘

 

 

I, [4,; .
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' for yourself

Silverblade, the Hostile.

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“ Good enough i” with an em hatic nod. “ If
that ghost shirt lies, then he w 0 gave it to you
also lied. If it is all that Sitting Bull swore,
then I am the fool, and I solemnly swear to
turn Indian, by adoption, and join Silverblade
as a brother hostile 1”

“You will do this, brother?” almost breath-
lessl asked the outh.

“ Will do t is, if, on your side, you as
solemly promise to abandon this craze, if I
prove the host shirt a complete fraud. Here is
my hand: are you give me yours, Silverblade,
to seal our compact?”

Without an instant’s hesitation, the Shoshone
gripped that hand with his own. And then Big

iorn Buck knew his end was good as won]

“ You are a man, Silverblade. I am an-
other,” he said, with grim earnestness as they
both rose to their feet. “If 1 lese, I will turn
red. It I win you will once more be DaVid
'Woodbridge, all white?”

“ No. The son of Weenamoo can never wash
away his red bleed, but he will no lon or be
Silverblade the Hostile, but Silverbla e, the
Friendly. is that enough, brother?”

Horton hesitated, but only for a moment. He
might lose all by trying to gaiu too much. And,
once those true eyes were opened to the utter
falsity of the creed he had adopted, the cure
must become com lete.

l “ Is is good, an I agree,” he bowed, gravely.

“Then the rest is aim is,” laughed Silver-
blade, casting aside his b nket and unrolling
his painted holy coat, to slip on over his head.
“ Bi Horn has both rifle and pistols. Here is
the cart of SiIVerblade, son of the Messiah.
Shoot!”

“ We’ll start a fire, first Davie,” laughed Hor-
ton, setting about the \\ ork as he spoke. “ I can
do rough shooting by starlight, but now—it’s for
more than simple life, you understand!”

Eager to reach the end, Silverbladefhelped

kindle the fire, and when the blaze sprung up
brightly, he once more offered his bosom to the
test-shot. And once more Horton delayed.
_ “ Wait yet a little, Davie,” he chuckled, tear-
inga square of paper from a note-book, and
rapidly using the stump of a pencil. “I might
not find your heart without a mark to guide my
him. With this inned over your heart, I surely
can’t com lain i my lead goes astray 1”

.He Quic ly secu ed the per in place with a
pin, then looked his ri e. Silverbiade stood
where the glow of the fire fell fairly upon his
person, his arms extended to form a cross, a
fanatical smile adding to the glow upon his bag-
gard visage. . ‘

“Shoot Big Horn!” his v01ce rung out in
grim exultation. “ Take sure aim and—stop!”
with that smile fading to give place to an ex-
pression of horror. “ ’ will be your death, not
mind} $113951me sedth

‘ 00 a , L i verblade!” riml into 6
Border Beagle, .making reasdy hiya wedggn. “ I
counted that risk in the bargain, Stand fair,
or own that I have won, without firing a shot!”

Silverblude resumed his former sition with-
out a word. And as the young ha f.b]ond stood
proudly erect, Big Horn uck, rifle in hand,
seemed eager for the test that was to disenchant
thiMessia .crgzed Kath:

moment t us; on in swift succession the
suddenly uplifted rifle spoke twice, and Wm; the
second shot came a low whoop of fierce exulm.
tion from the half-blood’s lLilps.

“ You have lost, 'Big_ ornl”.he cried, one
hand pointing to the Pamth 010m 00Veriug his
bosom; no blood therel The shirt was impen.
etrable! , ‘

“ I have won, DaViel” came he counter.“ ,
as. Horton strode forward, '3’) int 817 tW0 holes
through the shirt; one under each arm. “ I shot
twice. Here are four below where each bullet
entered, then passed out at the other side.
lad: You would have been a dead
man had I shot for the heart!”

Silverblade gave a start as be lowered his eyes,
guided by that triumphing finger. Through the
shirt, below each arm-pit, where the cloth was
stretched by his arms being extended, the bullet-
holes, were 8}) arent.

is And here. _avie, I called my shots!” laughed
Horton, removmg the bit of paper, to show the
words be written.

Sinai-blade read those words, than sunk to
the ground, covering his face with trembling
hands, groaning akind in heart-rendering (19'
spam _

CHAPTER XVI.
SEWLADE smnnnnas.

BIG hon-N BUCK was wise enou
enough, not to press the point he had g
8001!. '

h, cool
ed, too

\

 

In silence, but with hands gentle asthose of a
loving mother, he covered that shivering form
with the heavy blanket. Then, drawing a little
to one side, he squatted down, content to hide
his time.

He had studied the sensitive nature of this
youth long and closely. He knew that, in some
respects, it was as weak as it surely was strong
in others. And knowing this, he know, too, how
terribly David Woodbridge was suffering in
having the last scales of superstition so abrupth
torn from over his eyes.

An hour passed by without a word being
spoken, but at the end of that time, Silverblade
cast the blanket-fold from over his head, look-
in},r u to meet that firm, vet loving aze.

“ Ti’ike your own time, avie, boy, ’ said Hor-
ton, gently. “ I’d wait ten years, and count it
no loss of time, just so I saved you in the end!”

The half-blood rose to his feet. He remOVed
the ghost-shirt from his person. He gazed at it
for a single breath, then—dropped it upon the
fire which Horton had ke t aglow!

“ Thank God, David oodbridge!” hoarsely
cried Horton, springing to his feet, tears of joy
di inning his honest eyes as he gripped that si-
lently-extended hand. “ I’ve kept my vow! 'I’ve
saved my boy- ard!”

“You have, r. Horton,” came the low, grave
response. “ With the ashes of that shirt, my mad
dreams perish and turn to dust.”

“And before the new sun comes up, we’ll be
on the trail which. after a crook or two, will
lead us to your family i”

“ No,” with a grave shake of his head, as he
withdrew his hand. “Not yet. I have been a
fool in my blind superstition, but I will not turn
even worse, now. I have work todo which even
you can not make me leave undone.”

“ But you promised—”

“I promised to no longer call myself Silver-
blade, the Hestile. I romised to become SiIVer-
blado the Friendly. will make that oath good

Big em. I will try my best to undo the evil
I wrought in my blind fanaticism. But—listen,
Bi Horn!”

peaking rapidly yet calmly, Silverblade told
how Little Bird had twice drawn him back from
the jaws of death. As consideratxly as he knew
how, while still making all erfectly clear, he
told how Little Bird had 1 her heart to him.

“She is good, pure, loving, Big Horn. She
has tried to open my eyes to the truth, even as
you have sool’ten tried. She failed, but she laid

at heart bare before my eyes while making the
attempt. I saw that a! o it was mine, which
was not occupied by love for her people; that
she loved me first, her race next.”

“ Bug, Davie, you don’t mean to marry that

new

“ Can I do less, yet remain an honest man?
She loves her race. So do I. She will be]
me make them wiser, better, happier. She wi

iue and die, if I desert her now. It is settled,

i Horn. I will make Little Bird m wife,
he ore God and man. And then we wil labor
to. save, to lift up, to instruct our people. We
Will point out to them the White-man’s Road,
and teach their feet bow to walk therein l"

He .drew the blanket a‘round his shoulders,
reaching out a hand as for a final grip of bro-
therhood.

Horton accepted the hand, and gazed steadily,
keenly, searchineg into those dark eyes while so
domg. What he saw there choked back the
arguments he might otherwise have used.

He knew that, this time, nothing he might say
or do could shake the Shoshone in his determina-
tion. _ .

“ I am geing to take my prisOners to General
Miles, Davie. Come with me, and after you
have surrendered, it’yvill be time enough to carry
out our new 18D8~

“ Kb, Big 0111. I helped bring the Sioux
80 far toward the Bad Lani-18. They may refuse
to listen to the words 0f 3 boy, but those words
must be spoken, all the some. I am going back
to can, _ 1 am going to tell them all just what
1 have Klearned this nlghto and—”

“send them howling on our trail, crazy for
hair. Davie?” , "

“ Not so, brother ” With & gravely sweet smile,
that lasted barely ong enough for tbgse keen'
6Wallflocatch and interpret aright. “ on will
have nothing to fear from HIV words. They
Wi e to save, not to slay. rom this hour,
Uhtu  grave opens, Silverblade is the 
Offence, not blood war!” _

And I can’t shake your resolve, in the slight-
est: 133%” i id

8 on has heard all. He 3 o enough

to understand. Would he reallyturn his bro-

ther aside ‘ eart has k
out," from the path his h . m” ed,

. her upturned brow.

 

There was a brief silencr, during which Hor-
ton tried his best to make himself believe a bold
lie would be fully justified. But he failed, and
gripping that slender hand with honest vigor, he
huskily cried:

“ No, Davie, I won’t even tr it, lad! You’re
right, from your stand-point. ’d not the same
if I stood in your shoes—and I was good 
honest enough i” he added, with a husky laugh.
“ You See, 1 can own up Davie! I‘ve looked
upon on as a foolish, crack-brained boy, hardly'
fit to e trusted alone. NOW-I know you’re a
betbter”man than I ever was, or ever expect
to e: .

“No, brother,” his arm gently crossing those
broad shoulders. “I have been a weak, blind
fool. I am still weak, but I am wiser. I can
see where I have done wrong, and I am on
strong enough to resolve to make what amends
may. Now, ood-by,brotherl” ‘

“ Good-by, avie, my boy!”

Their hands met in a strong, ardent grip.
Their eyes, neither air entirely free from mois—
ture, met in a stea. y gaze. Then they parted,
it might be forever!

l

 

The council was still in session when Silver-
blade, the Shoshone, regained the Sioux encani
ment, and pausing just without the circle,
stood with olded arms and bowed head, listen-
in to each of the speakers in turn. ‘

It was not altogether one-sided. Thunder
Strike, in common with the maJority of sub-chiefs
and older warriors, seemed inclined to accept
the strange happenings of that night as an omen
of evil in case they should adhere firmly to their
first impulse on realizing the death of Sitting
Bull, their high priest and spiritual guide. But
there were many among the younger, more
fiery members, who urged the contrary.

I they turned back now, it would be to meet
sure death, as hostiles, and deserters from the
Reservation. What worse could befall them, if
the? obeyed the commands of their §rophets, ‘
an fought to gain the Bad Lands? at more
thanoeath, surely! And were not they as-
suredgof living again, when the Messiah came to
earth

Presently there came a lull in the talk and
one of the holder warriors can ht sight of the
half-blood standing near. T involuntary
start he gave sent other eyes in that direction,
and one of the most fiery advocates of pressing
onward called aloud:

“ Silverblade has not spoken! Come, brother!
Our ears are hungry for your words!”

Naturally enough, knowing nothing of the
change which had come over that heart and
brain, the brave fancied his side had gained a

point as Silverblade entered that circle, gravely ‘

bowing in turn to the members.

Then Silverblade poured l’orth his whole
heart. He spoke as no man had ever heard him
speak before. But he was thoroughly converted
now, and no doubts hampered his tongue.

At first the younger members of t e council,
those who spoke loudest for war totbedeath,
scowled in angry chagrin as they listened but
not for many minutes. Though the di ered
from the speaker, they could not be p feeling
his intense sincerity, his perfect truth.

Then, gravely as he had entered it, Silverblade
left the council, without waiting to hear what
comments might be made, what arguments
might be offered to combat the points he had so
earnestly endeavored to make. ~

He had performed cue duty, but another re-
mained unfulfilled. _

An hour latter, he stood under the twmkling
stars, holding the wiarm handls of Little Bird in
his 3 kin grave , earnest y: .

‘zSopege it? Little Birdl. From this hour you
are mine, even as I am thine. But, we both be-
long to our people. Are you Willing to work for
their welfare, child of the Cut-throat?”

“ In your comp ny, son of the Mother Snake
-—ves!”

Silverblade bent his head until his lips touched
h d Then hedglanced upward,
raisin his ri ht an as he sai :

, “ Itgisa vdgw, Jesus, the real and only Mes-
siah!”

 

When the sun reached its meridian, the next
day, the entire band of Sioux were on their way

‘ back to surrender.

And near their front rode—not Silverblsde
the Elostile, but Silverblade, the apostle of
peace

manna.

 

  

 
 

BEADLE’SaHALF-DIMErLIBRARY.

Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. N0 Double Numbersi

  

 

 

BY EDW'ARD L. \YIIEELER.
Deadwood Dlek Novel-I.

"101", the Prince oi the Road.

"lt'h‘r‘ Deilanee: or, liollhln D}\":lpf..

Dlek In Dlngulue; or, liuti'al: lien

Dlek Ill lli- Cautie. -

Dlek‘n Bonanza; 0., The .lllntnln Miner.
Dlek in Danger; or, (mm-null.

Diek’n Eagle-n; or, The l'ardu ni Flnmi liar.
Diek on Deek: or. Calamity .'. me, tln- lleroine.
Dlek‘u Lat-t Art: or. Corduroy Cunrlie.
Dirk In Lealh Ille.

Dlek'n Del ieel or. The Double Crlmu Sign.
Diek an Detective.

Dlek’u Double 01'. The Gorgon'l (luilrh Ghost.
Dlek‘n Home llaue; or, lilmnie liill.
Diek'n Big Strike; or, A Ulllllu ni (:nld.
Diek oI' Deadwood! or. The l’ielled Partv.
Dlek'l Dream : or, The Riyal: oi the Rom .
"lck'a \Vurd; or, The Black llill’l Jezi-ltel
Dlek‘u Doom: or, Calamity June'l Adventure.
Diek’u Dead Deal.

Dlek'n Death-Plant.

Diek. A Romance of Rough. and Toughn.
Dick’s Divide or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake.
Diek’u Death ' ‘rall.

DIek’I Deal: or, The Gold Brick oi Oregon.
Dlek‘a Dozen: or, The Fnklr oi'l’hautunl Flat:
Diek’u Dueatn or, Days in the Digging“.
Dick Sentenced; or, 'I'll. Terrible Vendetta.

1 Deadwood
20 Deadwood
28 Deadwood
85 Deadwood
42 Deadwood
49 Deadwood
57 Deadwood
78 Deadwood
77 Deadwood

I00 Deadwood
104 Deadwood
109 Deadwood
129 Dead wood
163i Deadwood
149 Deadwood
156 Deadwood
195 Deadwood
291 Deadwood
205 Deadwood
217 Deadwood
221 Deadwood
262 Gold-Dun
268 Deadwood
2614 Deadwood
609 Deadwood
821 Deadwood
C47 Deadwood
B51 Deadwood
662 Deadwood Diek’l Claim.

405 Deadwood Diek In Dead City.

410 Deadwood Dlek’n Dian-undo.

421 Deadwood Dlek In New York; or, A “Cute Cue."
430 Deadwood Diek’u Daat; or, The Chained Iiand.
44B Deadwood Dir-k, Jr.

448 Deadwood Diek. Jr.’u. Deilunec.

458 Deadwood Dirk. Full “and.

459 Deadwood Diek, J Dig Round-l'p.

465 Deadwood Racket. at Claim 10.
471 Deadwood Corral: or, liozelnllu Bill.
476 Deadwood Dog Deteetive.

481 Deadwood Jr.. In Deadwood.

491 Deadwood Jr.’u, (.‘orn act.

496 Deadwood J r.'~, Inheritance.

500 Deadwood Dlek, .Ir.’-, Dig Inga.

508 Deadwood Dlek. Jr.‘u, De I‘veranee.

5I5 Deadwood Diek. Jr.‘u, Protegco.

522 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’a. ‘hree.
529 Deadwood
564 Deadwood
569 Deadwood

Diek, Jr.'n, Danger Daeka.

luck. :Ilr.’ul, lgle‘ath Hunt.
0 -, r.. n exam.

5:: :zeagwogfl "10k, .3?" the “"lld “M'elt \iidocq

5‘ ea wo e , r., on I a ett e.

554 Deadwood Dlek, Jr.. In Gotham.

561 Deadwood Dlek. Jr.. in Bolton.

567 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Philadelphia.

572 Deadwood DIek, Jr.. In (lhieago.

571% Deadwood Diek. Jr., Iioat.

554 Deadwood Dlek, Jr.. in Denver.

590 Deadwood Die . Jr.'u. Deeree.

 Beagwoog  311%. ll; {ieelzeliulb's Basin.

ea woo e ' r., a ,‘one A and.

606 Deadwood Die Jr)» Leadvi’llo Lay.

6I2 Deadwood Die Jr., lll Detroit.

618 Deadwood Dick. Jr., In (.‘Iaeinunti.

624 Deadwood Diek. Jr., In Nevada.

690 Deadwood Diek, Jr.. In No Maa’tt Land.

666 Deadwood Dlek. Jr., After the Queer.

642 Deadwood Diek. Jr.. In lluil'aio.

 llgemlwoog  J'r.’~.t‘haue1};~.rogl the (iontineut
u out woo e '. . r.. l Inon e .Inu ere.

660 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'tn lnuuganee (Yin-g.“

660 Deadwood Dlek, Jr., lint-k DI the Miners.

672 Deadwood Dlek, Jr., Io Durango: ur, “Gathered in."

 :l,(‘ll(‘llv§'t)o:il  :l'nzu, llziueolvery; or, Found a Fortune.
- ea woo e ', r. I. an e.

690 Deadwood Dick. Jr.‘u. Dollarn.

695 Deadwood Diek, Jr.. at. Danger Divide.

700 Deadwood Diek. Jr.’tl, Drop.

704 Deadwood Diek, Jr.. at Jack-Pot.

710 Deadwood Dirk. Jr.. in San Francisco.

716 Deadwood Dlek, Jr.’t-, Still Hunt.

722 Deadwood Diek. Jr.‘u. Dominoeu.

728 Deadwood Dlek, Jr.’u, Diugulue.

—
v
.—

.F

3’!"

BY CHARLES MORRIS.

WIII Somera, the Boy Detective.

l’lIIl Hardy, the Bun Boy.

I’k-ayune ’(Ite ; or, Nicodelnul, the Dog Detective.
Deteetlve Dink; or, The New In Raga.
Ilnndaome llnrry, the Boothiuck Detective.
“'Ill Wildil re, the Thoroughbred.

lllaek lieu. Will Wildfire I Racer.

Mike Merry, the Hnrhnr l'ollco Boy.

Will Wildfire In the Woodu.
llllly Bu age, the Railroad Bu '.
A Trump yard; or, Will Willi re Win: and Long.

Bob Roekett: or, Mynteriel ol‘New ank.

Dob Roekett the Rank Runner.

The llldden llandi or, Will Wildfire’n Revenge.

Fred llalyard, the .lie Boat Buy; or. The Slnuggieu.
Bob Roekett: 0?. Driven to the W'ali.

196 shadowed «.r, Bob Roellett‘ll Fight for Life.

206 Dark l’uu . the Tiger King.

212 Dashing Dave, the DandyY Detective.

220 Tom Tanner; or, The li ark Sheep oi the Flock.

225 Sam Ohareoul the Premium Darky.

265 Shadow Sam. the Mum-hirer Boy.

242 The Two “ liloodn ": or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang.
252 Dick Danhaway: or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago.

262 The Young Sharp“ or. Rollicking Mike’s Hot Troll.
274 Jolly Jim. the Detective. Apprentire.

2N9 Jolly .llm’u Job; or. The Young Detective.

298 The “'ntenllound: or, The Young Thoroughbred.

305 Danhaway. of Dakota; or. A \Vefltern Lad in Quaker City.
824 Ralph Heady, the Hotel Boy Detective.

841 Tony Thor-no. the Vagabond Deteetlve.

858 The lleporter-Detet-tl vet or, Fred Flyer'l Bllzurd.
867 W Ides-Awake Joe; or. A Boy of the Timon.

879 Larry. the Leveler; or. The Blood: oi the Boulevard.
403 Firefly Jaek, the River-Rat Detective.

423 The Load. Finger: or, The Entrupped Cuhier.

42" Fred Flyer. the Reportl-r Detective.

432 Invincible Logan. the Pinkerton Ferret.

456 "lay llrleli. the Jolly Vagabond.

466 “' e-Awake Jerry, Detective; or. Entombed Alive.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHU‘
lllflflflaa$afib=t€fifl
cautocwnuodocanr

479 Deteet‘ve Dodge: or. The Myltery of Frank Hearty.

488 Wild Dlek Raeket.

501 Boote. the, Boy Fireman l or, Tno Sharp for the Sharper.
566 The Secret ‘erviee Roy Detective.

596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolvel.

627 Tom Brut-e oi Arkanaaut 0r. The Wolfin the Fold.
655 Piueky Pilul, the Boy Speeulator.

667 Bob and Ram, the Dairy Detectives.

109 The Curhotonc Detective; or, Harry Hale’l Big Beat.

 

Other Noveiu by E. L. “'lleelcr.

26 (‘loven llooi", the linrl'uI-I Dunnin.
92 ltoh “’ooli’: tr, 'i‘l..- Girl luau-Shot.
69 Denth-l“aee. iii-tertiw: or. l.|lt‘, in New York.
45 "Ill Atalanehe: 'n. \\'iiii l-ldnu, the Girl lirigand.
56 Jim “lull-toe. J r.. tm- tiny I’m-nix.
6| ltuvldmrn lilll:  The lied liillo Team.
09 Gold “lilo, H...- :Vl‘ill'wllilillt'l’; or. The liuv Datel'llve.
H0 lion-hull Holt:  K rum-l Null, ll.“ Knight.
H-l 14131, the (-‘lrl Hint, r; or, kneelnni Roll on Hand.
8H l’llt:lo- l'apil Phil: “1'. lilh’rl‘llll “"133 Disappearance.
92 (‘nnac a (diet; or, i ‘ld Alllu'llllllll in Sitting itnll‘s Camp.
96 \\ llil-lI-l'ZVo: or, A full“ and Anni-la (-I' it Great City.
118 .lle Hui o the Ywnng l‘Ivt‘CIIllIiUI’.
117 Gilt-I‘Idged lillaiH lin- Sp ri l).-le.:tive
I "lllp, ihr (I'in Sport.
L Slil. Miner.
3 l‘,lifl ll r p the King of liootlullu'ltn.
1 flitlill Hunt the law Road-Agent.
(‘ ntnIn errvt, the New York Detective.
h. u York St Ii the Buy-Girl Dew-tire.
Kohl I {lek '11. . ovnda; or. The Sierra: Scamp.
\‘ . .~ run? , lllt‘ Bill-kakln Bravo.
l
r

  

 
 

“Hid-fl
rhur
V-' V
_

W

S

E

«III: I
v

..z, the inland—Boy Detective.
rltz to the Front 3 or, The Ventrlloquiet Hunter,
226 Fuoozcr. the Buy Sharp: or, The Arab Detecting.
236 Apollo lilli, the Trail Tornado.
240 C clone Klt, the Young Gladiator.
244 S erra Ram, (in: Frontirr Ferret.
24A fiierra Sam's Heeret; or, The Bloodv Footprint;
253 Rierra Ran-'u l’ard; or. The Angel ui Big Vista.
258 Sierra Sam‘s Seven: Or,The Suden Bride.
273 Jumbo Joe, lllr llu)‘ Patrol: or. The Rival Iioin.
277 Denver Doll. the Detovtive Queen.
231 Denver Doll‘u \ ietory.
2H5 Denver "011’! Deeoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza.
291 Turk the Boy Ferret.
296 Denver Doll‘n Drii‘t: or. The Road Queen.
299 A No. 1, the Dlnhin Tull-Taker.
308 'l.lzn Jane. the Sir Miner; or. the imn-Nerved Sport.
825 Kelley, Iliekev & 00.. the Detective! of Philadelphia.
860 Little Quiz-lg-S ot; or, The Dead Face of Daggerlvillo.
364 Kangaroo kit; or. The Mysterious Miner.
‘89 Kangaroo kit’n llaeket.
843 Man attan hllke, the Bowery Blood.
858 Find-Clam: Fred, lhe Gent imm Gopher.
86% Vreka Jim. the Gold-Gatherer; Or, The Lib Lottery.
872 Yreka Jim's PrIze.
373 N abob Ned: or, The Secret of Slab City.
882 (,‘901 Kit. the. King of Klill; or. A \‘illnln’s Vongoanco,
835 1 roka Jim's! Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nou.
899 liieyele lien: or. The Lion or Lightning Lode.
894 Yreka Jim of "aha Dam.
400 “'rlnkleu. the Night-Watch Detertlve.
416 High Ilat Harry. the liam- Ball Detective.
426 Ram filnhaddeu. the Beggar-iiov Detective. V
484 Jim lleakrand l’al. Private Detective; '
‘38 Santa Fe tin], the Sin-her.
486 Seal-skin Baal. the Sparkiar.

“fit-Int
Iflzfi"):
Cc

“Y T. O. HARBAUGH.

28 Nick 0' the Night; or,Th~ Boy Spy mi '76.
67 The Hidden Dodge; or The Littlu Hunter.
47 Nightingale hat; or, Tne Form (‘n )llllili.
64 Dandv Jaek: "r, The Outlawn of the (Eugen Trail.
82 Kit Iran-foot the Wood-Hawk.
94 Midnight J aek: or.’i‘ln-. lioy Trapper.
106 (Did lt‘roaty, the Guide; or. The White Queen.
123 Kiowa Charley the Willie ltlllnlnnger.
139 Jud e L 'neh Jra or. The Bwv Vigilante.
155 G014 Tr gfer, [he 9 nrt; er. The Girl Avenger.
169 Tornado ‘om; «r, njnn Jack ann Red Core.
189 Ned Temple, the Border lloy.
198 Arkanuaw; or, The Que-n oi Fate‘s Revenge.
207 Navajo Niek. the Bov Gold Hunter.
215 Captain Bullet: or, Little- ’i‘nnknnt‘a Crusade.
261 l’llleky l’hil : oration", the Rel Jelrlull.
241 Hill Iiravo: l-r, The “ninth! (lithe ltnrkiea.
255 (‘apiain Apoll: , the King-Pin of Bowie,
267 The liuekukin Deteeth'e.
279 Old \Vlnehz nr. Th.- ltlll‘lh-‘Kin Dun-ermine;
294 Dvnn‘nlite Dun: "Ir. l'he Bowie lilude n ' (in hetnpa.
802 ’I‘ to Mountain Deteetivex hr, The Trig er Bur Bully.
316 01d l“.(’llpl(~. 'I‘runlp Curd nl‘ Ariznnn.
626 The Ten l'urdu: or. The Terror(llTillte-Notloe.
336 lliu: Dent-on: or, The Queen of the Laura.
845 l’ltllellll Matt; 0?, erl Thnlnll-rholt’l Secret.
356 Pool P-nm inui Pup-Ii: o'- Thr'l‘rrrihle Six,
666 Velvet Foot. the Indian llvtertii'e.
3N6 (laptnln (‘utlmau or, lhv ll t‘cullerr’a Girl Foe.
396 Rough Roi): or. The lwhl Champions: of Blue Blazes.
411 The I‘llken Lanna: or, The ltnae of Ranch Robin.
41’" Felix Fox. the Boy Spotter.
425 Texan- 'l'rnmp. in.- llnrdrr Rattler.
436 Phil Final). Illr New York Fox.
145 The City Vampire“ or. Red Rnli'e’l Pigeon.
461 0no Agaiuut Fifty: or. The Lani Mun nl'Keno Bar.
470 The Roy Shadow: or, Felix Fox's Hunt.
477 The Exc-eI-dor hport: or. The \Vlshington Spotter.
499 Single flight. the One-Eyed Spnrt.
502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret.
512 Dodger Dink. the Wk-trilfipy Detective.
521 Dodger Dir-k'u “out Dodge.
523 Fox llllll Fitlcon. the liowt-ri‘ Shadows.
589 dodger Diek, the Dock Ferret.
543 Dotiger llll‘k’fi Double: nr.The Rival Boy Detective-
553 Dodger Dirk’u Desperate Case.
568 Dodger Dir-k. the Buy Vidorq.
578 The Two Shadows.
5H2 Dodger Diek’u Drop.
59‘!- thtle Lon. the Street-Singer Dctertive.
610 Did h‘kinner, the fluid Shark; or, Tony Sharp on Guard.
62“ The (‘hamplon l’ardfl.
637 Diek Donn. illr, Dock an Detective.
645 Kit. the Pavement Shari»
653 Billy Bantam, the Bov Beagle.
671 Jersey Jed. thr Rn" Huntler: nr. Shadowing the Shadow".
6955 "up _v llulzii. the Boy Muelcinn DI‘lA‘CllVE.
701 Pho ogrnph Fred. tile, Camera Sharp.
715 Wide Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret.

 

BY “'11. G. PATTEN.

489 The Diamond Sport: or, The Double I'm dBed Rozk.
519 Cults-taut flyater sonFive in One.

531 D 3 Dare the port from Denver.

537 Old Rumba-hell, the Ranger Detective.

604 Iron Fern, the Man oi Fire.

619 The Boy Tramp Detect-Ive: or.Tho Double Grlletneu
629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Sport.

641 Diurnal Dave’u Dandy Pal-d.

651 Round Boy Frank. the Young Amateur Detective

683s Violet. Vane’n Victory.

662 Wild Vulcan, the Lone-Range Rider.

693 Violet and Daily, the Poav Panic.

705 Violet Vaae’o Vow: or. Th» Crafty Detective’o Croft.
714 "Ill Misery, the Man from Missouri.

724 Violet Vane’a Vengeance.

 

  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
  
  
   
       
        
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
   
 
   
 
  

BY COLDNEL I’VRENTISS ING RAIIAM.

7 Tile Flying Yankee: Hr.'1'lw Om-nn Onivant.
17 Iialph Rov, llI-' |’-I-_\' linrrnn-vr; ur. 'i‘in- [nullin Yacht
24 Diamond Dirk: -~l.'l'|n- .\l_\>il-l‘_\' oi'tlle Yeliuwntolle.
62 The Shadow hhlp; hr. '1 ln- ltivnl l.lr\ilt'lliiilll|.
75 The lioy Dneli~l : "r- Tl!" (“ruins hi the Seirll'oll.
102 Dlek Delui~i£\e. lin- i'my Smuuuler.
111 The lieu-Devil; or, ’I lw .\lltl\llllrlllllllyt\ Legavv.
no The "H..."- cmmun; or. 'l‘l... llemiit m iléll Gate.
197 Little Grit; or, lie-sir. the Sim ll-'l'enllrr'a Daughter.
204 Gold l'lnme: or. lutliln liill. the Pot Ex ll‘ttt‘n Rider.
216 Hinton "Ill Lllr l'rilwe III the l‘lrlllfii “l'.'£llllltl” llill'u 1'11
222 Grit. the llravo Apart : i-r. The Woman Trailer.
229 (‘rimaon Kate; “r, '1‘....l‘m\-lmy'tl 'l‘rlunlph.
237 Lone htar, lllr Cowlm)‘ ('n uain.
2-15  t‘l'le the Middy ' or, ' 'lle Freelanrn Hair.
250 'l‘he lllduhipulan hintlneer: ur. Iirandt, the Bucrnn
26-41 llle Floating Fem Iu-r; or. Merle .\lonle’u Treasure
2020 The Gold Sill u or, Merle, lnc Culldellllled.
276 .“erle Monte u “rllll(‘; or, "'l‘h-s (-‘ulil Ship" Chane.
260 Merle ,‘lonte’a Fate; or. l’rlll’l. tlm l'irnlr'l Bride.
284 The Sea Marauder; nr. Merle Monie'u I’ll-due.
2H7 iiilly Blue-Eyeu, the iiny Rim-r of the lilo Gralldo.
304 The Dead Huot Dnndyg or, lienltu' the Buy Bugler.
608 Reno kit: or. Dead sin-t linndy'n Double.
314 The Mynterloar Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler‘s 1
377 "OlflNk‘l! tile “0: Rover; ".le Fingleou Schnnner
8H6 The Indian, Pilot; or, Tho- Search for Pirate inland. 
887 “'arpath \l III, the liuy l'lnlutmn. ‘ '
393 Foawaii’, the lfoy Lieutenant.
402 laodor, the \ onng Conupiratort or, The Fatal Lei _ ,
407 The Bov Int-urgent; or. The Cuban Vendetta. . .
412 The “'I d 1 aehttunant hr, The War-Clouu’a Cruile. .
429 Duncan Dare. the hay Refugee. . I
466 A (‘ahln 1303"» Lack; or, Tile Corsair.
467 The flea Raider.
44] The (Pecan Firefly: Or. A Milidy's Vengeance.
446 Ilaphazard "arm; 1 or. The Scapem'nm oi the Sea. 
450 “'Izard “'illt “R'er Buy Ferret oiNew York. . l
454 'izard “'ill’n Street heouta.
462 The Horn Guide; or. The Sailor Boy Wanderer. _. .
463 Neptune Red, the lioy Counter. ; ‘
474 Flora; nr, Wizard Will's Vagabond Pal-d. f; '
4&8 Fen-eta Afloat: or. Wizard \i'iil’l Luv. Can.
487 Nevada Ned, the. Rr‘VnIVl-l’ Knuka
495 Arizona Joe 1h.- li..y i’md m'Texu Jack.
497 Back Taylor, King oi llIv Cowboys.
508 The Royal Middyx or, The Shark and the Sea Cat.
507 The llunted Midnhi man.
511 'l he 0utlawod Mid y.
520 Rut-koala Hill. the (‘mnnnclle Shadow.
525 Brother» In Buekukin.
530 The lluekuklvt llowern.
535 The Due akin Rove".
540 (‘aptaiu Ku—Klux. the Marauder oi the Rio.
515 Lieutenant Leo. the Son of Lafitte.
Lailtte’u Legal-y: or. The Avellging Son,
555 The Creole Cor-air.
560 l’nwnee Bill. lllt‘ l'rairie Shadower.
Kent Kingdon. the Card King.
570 Camille, the ('nl‘d Qlll-en.
575 The Surgeon-firm" Detective.
5“) The union“. (‘mit-t: or, The False Detective.
5,16 The Buekukin Avenger.
Delmonto. the Young Sou Rover.   7
)97 The Young Texan Deteetivc. I ‘ , g

i

 

602 Th1- \'agaltond oi’the Mines}. '
607 The llover Detective: or, ixnnn Kit's Champions.

617 Ralph. the Dead-Shot Front: or, Thv Kin llnhlvruu ., ' 
644 The. llereulell llighwaynlan. ‘ j . v ' h ‘ :1
650 lintterily Billy, the Pony Rider Dvh'l'h‘l‘; 0'. m ‘f ' 1,:

liill‘u lioy i'am. .‘ v - "

656 Butterfly Billy’u Man “out. ' y _ .
662 Butterfly lillly‘u Bonanza. ' _ _ 
66K The Blleeaneer Mid-hipmaa. '
674 The “'Izard l‘aIlor: “r. llwi Ralph, the Rover,
079 The Foo Shadowert "V. The Freely-oi. r'u Legin
636 (Dr-loud". [ha (li‘l‘llll Frer. Flu-1: or, Tin.- anlliillleli Namr.

2 The Rival Sharpn: or, lielll'el‘il. the Sci-wt Servin- S'. I .
697 Tm. [amulet sombrero; .lr, Th.- Shurp from Tuxut‘. "‘ ' . ._,-'.

 

702 lilne Jm-ket “Ill: 01‘. 'l'ln' Red Hat Rancers' Red llnL lil . , 3 - r ‘1 ,1-
707 The Red Sombrero Ranger-a; or. IL-liii-rn'n Lust ,  7: .
716 ('arl, the Mad (‘owlton or. The Lariat anrn. v ‘ r...
719 Pawnee lllll'u l’ledve: or.The (‘owhny Kldnuppnr. _‘ ' -‘ '1
725 During Diek, l'lwm-u Bill's l’ard; or, The Red Cavally 1.5;» .‘>’..

 

BY BUFFALO BILL (llon. “'m. F. Cody). ’

  
   

3 Knnnan King; or. The Ri‘tl Rightllllnd. :-
19 The Phantom F y: or. 'l h:- l'llot at the Prairie. :
55 Deadly-Eye. the lnlmown Scour. ‘v
ti" Border Vltohin llood; or, The Prairie Rover. ‘

158 Fancy Frank 01' Colorado: or, The Trapper’u Truly I
‘3. 1:4» .42;

LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. ..
,9;  _:

 

729 Sliver-blade. the Half-Blood; or, The Border Beagle at: .5
ll\' .lo—. E. lilulut-r, .lr.  a
780 Violet Vllue'n Verdict; or, The Crooked Game at 
City. Bv Win. G. l‘nitrn.  ‘
781 Ruth Redmond. tln- Girl Slimlower; or, The Riva-Hi».
hu-kskin. liy ('ol. l‘rvnllu lngmhum. _ fl... , 
“(82 Daisy Dell. the l‘iu-rnlrnt Detective; nr, Trappan ll l: (m. »
liy ’l‘. C. Hal'lmuuh.
783 Toltoe Tom, the Mad Prnnpector; or, Unearthing the C1. .
l.l‘nflllll. liv qu'lll- A_ " Silna, N. _
184 Deadwood Diek. Jr.’n. Double Deal: or, Th.» '3'
Around Surprise. liv Edward L. Vi lleelu-r'. ' w u p
785 Broadway llillv‘n Buuineuli 0?. “ liking Lp Vi ind l_
\‘01l('rllllp. By ‘. ..Cowdrick. 
736 Larry, the Thoroughbred; 0r. Beaten on Ew-ry 55;.
ly George C drill“. , . .
787 Dark Taylor. the (‘nmnm‘he a Captive; or, lluellukln
to the ‘seue. By Col. l‘l’t‘nllsfi liturilhuln.
788 Broadway Billy’s Curionu Case: or, The hiystl
Disappearance at Manitml Springs. By J. C. (fnwdrlelr. .
789 Silverlfludo, the Hostile. 0?, The Border “eagle’s (2:3
Trail. By .105. E. llnd 'I'r. Jr.
740 Deadwood Dlek. Jn‘n. Deathwatch: «pTlm M":
Mvrtvrv at Mexican Montana. liv Edwarddl. \\ heeier.
741 Violet Vane. the Ventriioqulst Villoeq'. or, Sport M.
Sport. RV Win. 0. Patton. ' i '
742 Billy “'Iaka. the Bell Tiny Db‘Iei‘lin‘i or, Break 11:.
Mesh»! of the Golden (‘nil By T. C. llurhilugh.
748 Back Taylor's lloyu: ur. The Red lint-rs
Grande. “Y ‘‘0]. l‘rentiaa lngralnlln.
Ready Ortnlwr an. ~ _'_  _ ' ',
744 Nllrht-“'Ilteh D‘iek. the Life Saver of the Dochs- Bl_,_ ‘ . ,
Pirree. I ' -

Ready October 97.

A New lune Every Tuesday. !

The llaii’. Dlme Library ll for rule by all newadoalera _
cent: per copy, or sent by mail on receipt oi a: cent: each.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publiuherl,‘

98 William Street. New Y

 
 

of tile V