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Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York. N. Y.. Poet Omce. Copyrighted 1892. by BEADLE AND ADAMS.

 

NO  $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS. Price.
' ' a Year. No. 98 WILLIAM STREET. NEW YORK. 5 Cents-

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OR

" The Spook Steed of the
Stone Corral.
A Reliance of the Ruided Ranches.

BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS.

AUTHOR OF “ WARBLING WILLIAM." “ BILLY,
run: GYPSY SPY," " TOLTEC TOM,” 1:10., mo.

CHAPTER I. -
THE armour: ammo.

T clouds ecudded low before a ltit! broom,
V811 at times the faint light of the moon.
The k valley grass swayed noddineg in the

or Preirie Gibraltar, which amelike a

"3"01460961' buck 38,519“ “10 background of IN srm or 318 runs om LONE Hum COULD now an BUT new wjm! m
u” ° e . WAY run: sworn s-rnn WAS mvmo ms woes. ‘

 

 

 

    

2

Lone Hand Joe. -

 

 

Old Joe Connetty—“Lone Hand Joe,” as he
was known—lifted his head, glanced toward the
buffalo-grass upland which stretched away for
interminable leagues across the wide plains of
Colorado, then bent his gaze again t0ward the
dark atch outlined against the southern sky.

He ad looked toward the upland because he
fancied he heard there the faint hoof-strokes of
a horse.

Prairie Gibraltar, lying on the banks of the
crooked stream known as the Cimarron River,
was beginning to have an uncanny re utation.
it was in the days of the rest catt e herds,
and but a short time after t e buffalo had van-
ished forever from those rich grazing grounds.

The face uplifted to the cloudy sky was that
of a small and somewhat wizened man, long
past middle life. Yet, it was a strong, aggres-
sive face, with keen, determined eyes, and a
resolute chin, covered with a scanty beard.

Connetty who had for many years been known
as Lone Hand Jae, was a confirmed nomad.
His life had been spent largely in the open air,
on the plains or in the mountains. He had once
been a lone trapper; then alone hide-hunter,
but of late had roamed around among the
ranches, and always was a welcome guest.

His horse was tethered in a willow clump,
nearly a half-mile away, and he had crawled
up under shadow of the night to get a closer

p at the stronghold which had long been a
ome for thieves, but which a late re rt stated
had been abandoned because of certain mysteri-
ous manifestations that had frightened the free-
booting gentry who dwelt therein.

Concernin this abandonment, the suspicious
Joe had his oubts; and they were not lessened
by certain things he had witnessed from the
willow covert that afternoon.

The sounds heard on the u'pland were nearer,
now, and he knew he was not mistaken in
thinking them the hoof-beats of a horse. He
could see the brow of the upland very well from
hisrecumbent position, and kept his eyes fixed
on' it as the horse seemed to near that point.
But when hewas sure the animal was descending
the slope in his direction, he could not even then
make out its form because of the obscuration of
 mmne . ’

Suddenly a low and inarticulate cry broke
from his ips, and he burrowed still deeper in
the waving grass. All at once the horse had
become visible. It had not been revealed by
the light of the moon, but was outlined bya

low which seemed to emanate from its own

y.

It was certainly a startlin appearance.
The li ht which the horse a tted from its
hairy glide—if that were really the source of
the glow was of a sickly cast, resembling in a
large dogs the light which comes from a glo «-
worm.

The horse bore a rider, though he was almost
invisible. Only his legs and a part of the saddle
couldhe seen. The upper portion of his body
faded away into the gloom.

“ That beats me!” Old Lone Hand muttered,
as he flattened himself in the grass. “ I’ve
traveled frum Californy to Kalamazoo, from
Johnny Bull’s northern lakes to the mountains
of Mexico, an’ this is the fu’st time I ever run
ag’in’ a creeter like that! A i'eg’lar walkin’
jack-o’-my-lantern, with four legs an’ a flowin’
tail, an’ hoof-beats that sounds till you kin hear
am. If it wnzn’t for that last, I’d know it wuz
a ghost. But a ghost wouldn’t shorely tromp
down the grassithat-a-wa y l”

Notwithstanding the seeming levity of these
comments, Old Joe was deeply stirred by the
singular sight. Like most man living a life
such as his, his mind had become strongly
tinged with superstition. It is apt to be the
way with ignorant folk who live close to the
heart of nature. There are so many unexplain-
able wonders in earth and sky, in air and water,
which’they can only account for by reference to
supernatural agencies. Of this class of men,
the untutored savage is the truest type.

The horse was very near, now; so near that it
could be plainly seen; and~it passed within a few
yards of Old Joe’s hidin -place.

But, was its. horse? nd was thata man seat-

ed on his back, whose legs only were visible? If
the stran a thing was really an animal, whence
came the singu ar glow?
Old Joe looked at it, wistfully, and drown
deep breath of relief as it passed on. His
breathing was oppressed; and creepy, inde-
scribable Mons were making a highway of
his spine. It was far pleasanter to view the
thin , whatever it was, from a distance.

“ n the jogerfy o’my halcyon goth I use to
readthatthsnnwusthe only area that shines
by its own light. But I’m ready to swear that

 

that jogerfy-maker wus a liar an’ a boss-
thief 1"

He puckered his thin lips as he said this, and
craned his neck and bent his head to watch the
retreating vision.

A fear of it was strong on him, but this was
overcome in a great measure by a feeling of
intense curiosity. He wriggled to an upright
position, took another breathless look, and then
stole softly after the shining horse.

What he had witnessed that afternoon from
the willow clump was the inspiring cause of
this courageous action. He believed he had
seen men on the white walls of Prairie Gibraltar;
and if the thieves were still there, itwas possible
they knew something of this horse, and were
making use of it for a purpose.

At any rate, it was goin straight toward the
stronghold, and the old reelance greatly de-
sired to See what effect its coming would have
on the outlaws whom he believed to be lying in
concealment behind those rocky walls.

“Hyer goes!” he breathlessly panted, as he
hurried on at the best speed his caution would
allow. “ Neck er nothin’, is my motto! i can’t
say that I specially bankers after chasin’ spooks,
an’ wraiths, an’ fiery horses. but a chance like
this don’t come more’ii onc’t in alifetime. If it’s
a plum shore enoughghost, I reckon it ’1! slide
into the earth, or fly up into the sky, er make it-
self scarce mighty suddeqt an’ mysterious. If
it’s a reel hose, with some shinin’ stuff rubbed
onto it, it won’t be able to do anything of the
kind. Anyway, hyer goes!”

The horse was now near the outer barfier of
the stronghold. It was not hastening its speed,
but was moving onward at the same gait as
when he had first seen it.

Old Lone Band was walking rapidly, though
silently, anxious to get near enough to see where
it should. go when it passed around that wall.
But it never passed around the wall; or if it
did, he did not behold the movement. lithen
within less than a rod of the barrier, it vanished
assuddenlyasit had come into view, leaving
the trailer to stare bewilderedly into he gloom.

He recoiled with a gasping cry, as if he had
been struck a blow, and it was many minutes
before he could recover from the mental shock
this disappearance gave him. ' ~

“That do beat all!” sinking tremulously tp
the earth. , “Didn’t go neither into the ground
ner into the sky. Jist went out like a lamp,
pufll—that way, when a feller blows on the
flame!”

The old nomad was shaking with nervousness
and his teeth chattered, even as he spoke. ‘

Prairie Gibraltar lay before him grim and
silent, as stern and f0 bidding in ap arance as
its Mediterranean protOtype. The wiiied soughed
through the grass and sung mournfully as it
chafed against the jagged rocks. Below him
Connetty could hear the gurgle of the stream.
A prairie-dog owl swooped down overhead with
its harsh scolding, and he crouched in terror,
thinking for a moment it was a being from the
spirit world.

He drew himself up with an effort and passed
a horny hand across his forehead, as if by that
actto clear the cobwebs from his brain. He
glared in the direction of the owl’s flight and
shook his fist angril y at the inoffensive creature
that had so frightened him. .

“I’m gittin’ myself ready for a lunatic asy-
lnml”he gr0wled. “'1‘romped the prairie fer
more years than I kin reecolect, an’ now git
skeered out 0’ my seven'senses bya screechin’
dog-owl! Next thing 1 know, I’ll be runnin’
away frum the wind!” ’ .

He looked again toward Prairie Gibraltar,
only to see it as before, harsh in outline and
silent as the grave.

“ I ’low I’d do the most sensible thing 0’ my
life, if I’d take the back-track,” he argued.
“ This thing 0’ ’vestigatin’ ghosts might do fer
some men, but it don’t please me more’n com-
mon!” _

Notwithstanding this declaration, he found it
impossible to tear himself from the spot. What
he had seen held for him a strong fascination.
There might be danger in going ahead—un-
known perils too horrible for thought—but he
oculd not persuade himself to beat a retreat.

“ Likely they's a hole there which the thing
went into,” he said, trying to screw his courage
to the sticking-place.

It was not plain to him how even if there was
a hole the horse could disap r as he seen
it do; but be deceived himse with the thought,
and again wriggled forward. .- ‘

When he gained the point wherethehorss had
vankhsd. hefonmi no opening in the earth. 'But
he did ,diseoVer ’something which promised to
haves marked bearing on the case. It was a

 

‘

hoof-print; and when he felt further, his trained
flu ers alighted on others. It did not seem pos-
sib e that a phantom horse would make so ma-
terial a thing as a well-defined mark in the soil.

“ I’m a-goin’. to gitat the meanin’ 0’ this thing!”
he asserts , as he crawled on, feeling in front of
him for the tell-tale and guiding hoof-prints.
“ The thing ’at made these ain’t no spirit, what-
ever it is. If it wus covered with shinin’ stuff,
though, I can’t see how the rider rubbed the
dratted truck ofl’i Ner h0w he put it on so
quick l” recalling the manner in which the horse
had first come into view.

The prints led himaround an angle of the wall,
down a flinty slope by the river-side, and beyond
that for a considerable distance. The character
of the ground made the trailing difficult, and in
paying close attention to the work in hand, he
looked about him but little.

When the spy lifted his head again, it was to
give another start. A short distance away was
a crater-like inclosure, and within it was stand-
ing the phantom horse. It Was riderless, now,
and there seemed to be no saddle on it. Its head
was drooped as if from weariness. Yet, over
all, from flowing mane to streaming tail, was
that dull glow which had already so mystified
Old Joe.

“ It must be a boss!” was his positive assertion,
re atherin his courage fora further advance.
“ ft can’t e nothin’ else! There’s been some-
thin’ rubbed on its hair to make it shine that
way. Likely a trick of the thieves to shear hon-
est people an’ keep ’em frum comin’ round hyer.
I’ve heerd 0’ these hyer luminous paints an’ phos-
phorus an’ sich, an’ it must be somethin’ 0’ that
kind."

He drew a match from a metallic case, touched
the match-head to his tongue to moisten it, and
rubbed it on the palm of his hand. The marks
made by'the matchshead shone in the darkness
very like the coat of the horse.

“ That’s jist it!” with a sagacions wag of his
head. “ They’ve fixed him up in that way,
somehow, an’ he’s only a common hoss, after all.
An’ I never wus afeard o’ bosses!” '

He hitched forward once more, and was soon
near the crater-like corrdl. He discovered that
there were other horses within the corral. though
he had not been able to see them. He could bare-
ly see them now, and judged of the number more
by the sounds made by their breathing than in
an Other way. . .

He remained quiet for a time to assure himself
that no human presence was near; then made
his way over the ragged wall of rock into this
natural corral.

The horses appeared not to fear him, and per-
mitted Old Lone Hand to approach without
manifesting terror. He shivered a little as he
crept toward the one whose coat shone so strange-
ly. At the last moment he felt like beating a.
retreat. But he went on, and laid his hand on
the horse’s mane. ' He examinedthe hairy coat,
rubbing his hands up and domi it to ascertain if
possible the cause of that strange light. There
was no smeary, waxy substance, as he had ex-
The hair seemed natural and un-

pec
‘tampered with; and he remained as much puzzled

as ever.

From the corral he turned toward the strong-
hold itself, seeking a SOIlItlon there. When he
had passed over a dozen Yards he turned to look
again at the horse.- Lol it was not to be seen!
Apparently the animal had gone from the place!

With anything but a comfortable sensation,
Corinetty continued to creep over the IjOCkS.
bending his stepS. however, in the direction of
the open prairie, so that he could make a break
for liberty, should it seem necessary. .

At one point, opposite the stronghold itself, a
perpendicular surface of white rock arose sheer
from the earth, evidently unscalalile to man or
beast. As he arrived in front of this, the horse
he had so short a time before eigamined, a pear-
ed on the side'of this almost upright wall 0 rock;
and it again bore on its back a rider. ‘

There was about both horseman and animal a.
light that was even stranger than that which
Old Joe had first beheld. It was not a glare;
neither was it the glow which before had seemed
so much like phosphorescence. It was a whitish,
penetratin light, in the midst of wthh the
horse and rider seemed suspended, and it threw
surrounding’objects into the (lee gloom. '

In spite of the fear that almost paralyzed his
energies, the resolute old man lucked out one of
his revolvers and fired straight at the spectral
horse. It was so large an object he knew he
could not miss it. And he did notiniss it! He
saw the bullet splinter the rocky surface and
knew the leaden missile had passed through the
animal, if animal it was. But the shot had no
appreciable effect. Horse and rider continued

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to glide upward as if nothing had been done to
interfere with their movement; and a moment
later disappeared among the overhanging
shadows.

The sight was too much for Old Lone Hand’s
nerves, stron as they were. He gave a yell of
fear, scrambed down the rough incline, and
raced wildly for the willow clump-a demoralized
detective! .

 

CHAPTER II.
A WILD STAMPEDE.

PRAIRIE GIBRALTAR had received its name
from its strength as a natural stronghold. It
was almost impregnable to assault from with-
out. Safe within its sheltering walls, a few de-

. «'termined and desperate men might hold a large
force at bay until food and ammunition were ex—
hausted. Water could he had in abundance,
for Cimarrou RiVer flowed only a few feet dlS-
tact, and the way to and from it was well pro-
tected from the shots of marksmen. Thus, in
man reSpects the place resembled the great
Bri sh fortress; and the wide-reaching prairie,
stretching out to illimitable distances, assisted
in conferring on it the name: Prairie Gibraltar.

Because of its impregnability it had for many
years been the hiding-place and headquarters of
plains outcasts and raiders. Since the .cattle
herds had come into the country these despera-
does had made themselves especially mischievous
by running oil? stock. For a time they were
strong enough to set the ranchmen at defiance,
but had suffered reverses of late, and had, there-
fore, own extremely cautious.

An now, only a few weeks before, it had
been given out that the cattle-stealers had wholly
abandoned Prairie Gibraltar; and that they had
done so because of certain mysterious and ghost-
ly appearances. .

These reports did not take very definite shape,
but the current belief appeared to be that one of
the thieves and his horse had been slain in a fight
with the ranchmen, and that every night he

‘5 resented himself before the stronghold, riding
‘ his ghostly steed, for the purpose of urging his
old companions to avenge his death. If that
was the aim of his coming, it failed: the only
effect being to drive these friends from their old
hiding—place. Such was the gist of the rumor
given in various shapes, and which was com-
ing to be generally behaved by.the men of the

franchest I - , _
‘ Old~Joe Connetty had-beard it, and his mind

- reverted to it more stron 1 than ever as he fled
from the apparition w ich had been prmf

, against his bullet. ' V

“ I can’t say that I hankers to git clost to the

- thin ag’inl” he mumbled, as he hurried on,
.slipp ng and sliding and occasionally falling
when his feet became tangled in the long grass.
“If-’tain’t spirits, it looks enough like ’em to
suit me. If anybody else ants to ’vestigate
it, they kin. I’m a-gom’ cut out o hyer.

Bosses that you kin rub your hands over, an’

feel the hair uv ’um one minute, then shoot
clean through ’um without tetchiu’ ’um the next!

Excuse me! Waugh l” '

And he did “cut out,” when he gained his
horse. mull willingly away from the place
that a short alt-hour before had so attracted

him. v ~
" I think I’ll see what Phil Sidney’s got to say

I\,.&bout this," Shins the willing beast free rein.

/

““Sidney’s a-kno n’chap, if he is young. 311’
,mebbe he'll hev some ideas on the subjeC’. I
hein’t I"

He set his jaws firmly, as he made this latter
declaration. He had thought of the matter al-
ready until his brain was in a whirl, and he re-
solved to think of it no longer; a thing which he

quick discovered to beiniposaible.‘ »

 Philip Sidney’s ranch lay up the Cimarron

'River. it was the nearest one to Prairie Gibral-
tar,_nnd in distance was not over a- two hours’
. rug from that place. I ,

Sidney had suflered, in conjunction with his
fellow cattlemen, and had 11 active in his
efforts to a them in ridding the country of the
thieves. ' use of this, his ranch had been
once boldlyxaided by the desperadoes and one

7 of his cowboys killed, Therefore, no one was
betterpleased than heatsthe rumor that the
~ cattle-fitters meant to leave, or had left, the
foountry. If they remained, he felt. he must

* - inroly go, or suffer financial ruin.

Hie place was known as the “Good Cheer

' Rauch,’t because of the hospitality. which it al-
wllalaiforded; and became: this..and for the

' further reason that LoneBand and young Sid-

V  firm f ends, Old .Gonnett .set his face
' 'tOwardthis ra fl 1

'  . 9131p!“ of 39:53th  of the

the things. he had-thatnight
. g v .

vi.

 

 

witnessed were not out of his mind a minute
during the ride.

It was long past midnight when he drew near
the ranch buildings of the Good Cheer, and he
was immediately made aware that something
unusual was occurring, by the loud outcries that
reached him.

He sat erect in the saddle, with feet thrust
hard against the stirrups, as he hearkened to the
confused sounds.

“ It’s a stampede!” he exclaimed. “It must
be that! But, tain’t a night for a stem 9.
I reckon them p’izen cattle-lifters air ag n at
their work. When I seen that creepy thing at
Prairie Gibraltar, I knOWed they hadn’t left the
country.” x

This last was a conclusion just reached at that
moment. though it seemed to him he had settled
the point long before.

He set spurs to his horse and galloped for-
ward, guiding the animal in the direction from
which the hubbuh proceeded.

He s0nn found himself on the edge of a mov-
ing mass of horns and hair, which he knew to
be the stain ing herds of young Sidney. J oe
uttered a bitter imprecation as the maddened
animals poured by him, bellowing wildly and
throwing up a dust-cloud that made the night
even darker than before.

“‘ It’s the work 0’ them cussid cattlegthievesl”
he gritted, pulling ‘in his bores and vainly at-
tempting to turn the frightened herd. .

From far away he heard the Voices of men,
but whether they were those of Sidney’s cow-
boys er of the cattle-rustlers he could not tell.
Alone he could do nothing with the cattle and
he wheeled his horse again and rode in the irec-
tion of the voices.

'As he came closer to them, Connetty knew
the horsennen (whom he could now dimly see).
were the cowboys of the Good .Cheer Ranch, and
he boldly approached them.

Philip Sidney was in the midst of his men
who were riding hither and thither, doing all
they could to check the mad rush of the herds.

here were other voices now to be heard far
away, and Old Joe was sure these were the
voices of the cattle-thieves.

He singled Philip Sidney out even‘in the dark-
ness, rode to his side, and shouted:

“The rustlers air over yander, pard. Better
make a charge on ’um. Ifill be the quickest
way to stop the steers.” '

in accordance with this advice, Sidney grouped
a few of his men about himself and the old
nomad, and raced with them toward the thieves.

leaving the remnant of his little force to con-

tinue their efforts to make the cattle “ mill.”

It was ticklish and risky work, this racing
over the prairie in the darkness. The many
holes made by badgers and rairie dogs ren-
dered it peculiarly perilous. either horse nor
rider could see what was in front, andnstep
into one of these holes might mean a broken leg
to the horse, and a broken neck _or severe in-
juries to the man who bestrode him. But the
cowboys did not hesitate becauSe of this, and
dashed away at the word of command, as if
such gisks were every-day occurrences.

They did not come up with the raiders, how-
ever, though at one time they pressed the rascals
hard. The front of the flying herds had for
some reason become split into fragments, and
the marauders separated in the same manner.
It seemed likely they would succeed in so scatter-
ing the herds that they could not fail to secure
and drive away a number of the cattle: and this
the cowboys could- do little to prevent, because
of the gloom. '

Near daybreak Old Lone Hand and Sidney,
who had kept well together throughout it a I,
turned back toward the ranch buildings on the
banks of the Cimarron. The cattle had been
brought fairly well under control, andpexce t
those that had entirely escaped, were being he (1
by the cowboys. ,

“ I wanted ya to ride back withme.” Connetty
remarked, in explanation of his request to that
effect, “so that I might talk over a mighty
cur’ous circumstance with ye. It’s the rummest
thin I’ve run ag’in latelyi an’ I’ve thought it
mig t hevrsomethin’ to do wuth this stampede.”

The two were riding slowly along, restin
their tired horses. '

“Whatis it about?” I

Thus invited, Old Lone Bandplun ed into a
recital of the strange things he be Seen at
Prairie Gibraltar. hey were singular enough
to arouse Sidney’s keenest interest.

0“

 .mto

nested w _.'the h H were reached.
aThat.’ will stand, a,good doalof talking
over-.3” oumyou had your hands ongthe

.-.

the: house,” the young man ray

he might have been called

 

“ Yes: an’ shot at it, tool ‘ An’ the bullet went

plum through it without hurtin’it a mite. ’Twus
er all the world jist like shootin’ through a

cloud 1”

Philip Sidney’s face, clearly revealed now b
the lamp, expressed earnestness as well as our -
osity. t was strongly marked and fairly hand—
some; the face of a young man who is accul-
tomed to rely on himself, and who feels that he
is conquering for himself a place in the world.

The young man was dreSsed in cowboy arb,
which well became his strongly knit an up-
right form. There was, of course, the inevit—

able big white hat, and the high-heeled riding.

boots with their jingling spurs.

“ It’s ridiculous to talk of a spirit horse!” he
declared, as he turned Connetty‘s statement over
in his mind. “ I don’t believe that the spirits of
men ever return to earth; and as for horses, I’m
not sure that they have any spirits. The may
have, but we’re not usually taught to th nk so.
The ghost idea is sheercst nonsense!”

Joe looked as if he would like to accept this
theory if he could.

“ I hope you’re right,” was his quiet observa-
tion. “ Spirits ain’t pleasant things to tackle."

“ It‘s plain the thieves haven’t left Prairie
Gibraltar: and I’m of the opinion that the men
who rustled the cattle to-night were from there.
This horse mystery is probably a game of theirs
to keep people from visiting the place. And if
that is so, it shows they are as strong and defiant
as they once were. I think we’d better,ka into
the matter.”

“ I’m with ye,” Old ‘Jne averred, “though I
ain’t a- inin’ to see that thing ag’in. Bum
you’re n earnest, I’ll stand by ye. All I
say is, if they’re playin’ a game with a boss,
they’ve got the creeter. fer the business. That
thing ’u d do to ’luminate a circus With. The
only trouble ’u’d he that it might go out of a
suddent an’ shet off the performance?!

CB APTER ill.
AN UNLUCKv Iiv'i‘lmritnnivcit.
l “ I ,I’mN’T reckon the shinin’ kin be seen in day-
i ht! ‘
‘ his remark was made many hours after the
interview in the ranch-house. The time was .

 

near the close of the following day, and Old'Joe r

and Sidney were in hiding among the willows a
short distance above the prairie stronghold.
From their position they could get a fair view
of the rock fortress, and of the corral in which
Old Lane and had beheld the phantom horse.

Some horses were in the inclosure, but none ~.

which seemed to fit the descriptionlwhioh Joe
had iven. Hence'the remark; \ ' ‘ I

“ think I’ll try to get iii-closer look,” decided
Sidney, after they had surveyed the place for a
long time. “The fact thatathere are horses
there shows there must be men there.” ' -

Joe was about to object, but Sidne wriggled
away through the willows, keeping h mself well
cencealed from enemies by the interpositionof a
projecting granite point. ,‘ x ,V

“ I‘ll try ter cover yer retreat if ye git into a
muss,” 0d 300 whispered after him, when he
saw that dissuasion was useless. ,. f
k Sidney answered by a backward smile, and,

e t on. ' ‘
his advance was destined to bring conse-
quences little dreamed of at the moment. ' The
only thing Sidney feared was that he might be ‘
sighted and shot at from the walls.

The corral was not visible during his pro:
grass—at least not until he had rounded the
rocky int. Then he beheld . a light which
caused im to crouch closer against the ledge.

A woman was standing within the corral, near
the horses, and she was follOWed shortly by a._
man who came from some pomt not to be seen _
by the spy.

Philip Sidney had thonght there, might be
men behind the Walls. but he had never dreamed .
of a woman being there. She was youetg too;
and, what took his eye far more, was d dedly
handsome. 

She was of the brunette 3'29, with erect.
graceful carriage, and she hel er head like a

ueen.
q The were so close to the young man that he,
could ear their words. a a

X

“I told you not to follow me here!” the wm . 1

man exclaimed, somewhat sna ishly, as she
faced about and gave the man a. ook‘ of scorn.
“Why do you anno me so, Ben Stetson? If
on bad a thimblefu of modesty or sense, you'd
retina alone i”. ‘ r
The follow addressed as 'Ben
man of ,
it a brutal look. But'for this evident bruth "
handsome, for h

bulky frame, and with a face that hadi , v, 5 .

..'c

features Were in,   be“ -‘

 

 

4

Lone Hand Joe.

 

 

seemed to be slightly under the influence of
liquor, and inclined to insolence.

“ I’ll not gr away till I want to!” glaring at
her doggedly. “ I told ye l’d foller ye out hyer,
an’ I’m a man what keeps my word every
time!”

“And I told you that if you continued to
trouble me, I’d report you to father, and you’d
get a hole through you for your pains.”

“ She is a regular spitfire,” Sidney muttered,
liking her all the more for her determined re-
sistance to the ruflian’s advances. “ If that
chap was any piece of a man, he’d leave her
alone. But I reckon he left his sense behind him
when be loaded u with that jag of whisky.
What a fool a lit e liquor does make of some
men!”

Stetson advanced threateningly on the girl,
and Sidney’s fingers worked like the claws of a
bird, showing how he longed to clutch the ras-
cal % the throat.

“ ill you leave me alone, Ben Stetson?” she
commanded, retreating a step and standing at

ba .

g I won’t, unless you take back what you said
awhile ago 1”

“ I sha’n’t take anything back !” drawing her-
self up, wrathfully.

As she stood thus, with her cheeks flushed,
and her eves flashing, she formed as pretty a
picture as Phil Sidney had ever seen.

“ My! But she‘s a beauty 1” _

“ Take back what you said to me awhile
a 01

“ I said that you were a brute and a fool, and
that I wouldn’t marry you if you was the last
man on earth! That’s what I then said, and
n0w I say it again!”

“ Good for you! You’re a brick !”

This from Sidney, in whispered excitation.

The young cattleman’s interest was being
aroused ’to a t'eVerish pitch. Already he felt like
springing out and collaring Ben Stetson, al-
though to his knowledge he had never seen either
of the parties before. This feeling became over-
powering as he witnessed the result of her defi-
ancs.

Angered beyond measure by her words, and
rendered reckless bv the liquor he had taken,
the outlaw flew at er savagely, and, grasping
her by the hair, jerked her fiercely backward.

The assault was made so quickly that she
was not given time to avoid it. The pull hurled
her to the round; and, as she lay there, pant-
ing and frightened, Stetson raised his heavy
boot as if to kick her.

This was too much for the witness in hiding.
When he saw that, he lost his head. Casting
discretion to the winds. he leaped Over the rocky
wall and was on the ruffian before that individ-
ual knew of his presence.

Stetson would have been given no warning at
all, if Sidney had not uttered a shout meant to
attract Old Connetty.

“You white-livered puppy!” he cried. as he
dealt the outlaw a stinging blow. “ Kick a
woman. would you! And a woman Who is al-
ready d0wn! I’ll teach you a lesson in man-
ners, you ruffian!”

His blood was on fire, and he was in a thor-
ou hly reckless mood.

vThe woman gave a little scream as she saw
him and heard his words, but he turned his en-
tire atteniion to Stetson, for the time giving her
no heed whatever.

Stetson attempted to square about to return
the blow, when another heavy righmmnder
caught him under the chin and laid him flat on
his back. But it did not knock him senseless;
and, as Sidney rushed at him, he pulled out his
revolver and fired.

Luckily, he was so shaken and his excitement
so great, that the bullet sped wildly; and before
he could fire again, Sidney knocked the revolver
from his grasp and leaped on him.

Joe had heard his friend’s call for help. From
his position he had a partial view of the forms
within the corral, and his instant supposition
was that Sidney had been surprised and at-
tacked. He did not stop to question about it,
however. Sidney was in trouble and needed his
assistance. That was sufficient to bring him
forward at the top of his 5 ,

In spite of his age, be c cared the rocky wall
at abound, and was at Sidney’s side when the
latter threw himself on the prostrate outlaw.

But his coming was rather in the nature of a
misfortune. The sound of Ben Stetson’s revolver-
shot had penetrated to the interior of the strong-
hold, and before the friends were aware of it,
sh? were surrounded!

he outlaws seemed to rise out of the ground,
sosuddenl did they appear. Old Joe, hurry-
ing to S dney‘s side, was plucked backward

 

and his arms pinioned by strong hands; while
Sidney was seized and drawn bodily from his
fallen foe.

Too late Sidney learned that he had been ex-
tremely unwise in his hasty action, and that he
and his old pard were likely to suffer severely
for his imprudence.

CHAPTER IV.
WITHIN THE SECRET CHAMBERS.

TH]: outlaws were not only greatly surprised,
but somewhat frightened on finding those two
men within the corral. It argued that there were
more outside.

They immediately gathered about the prison-
ers, and with angry words urged them toward
the secret openings into the interior of Prairie
Gibraltar.

Sidney and Lone Hand were silent—the
former from chagrin, and the latter because he
always believed that “least said, the soonest
mended.”

Sidney was inclined to blame himself without
stint for what had Occurred. But for his rash
impetuosity, he and Old Joe might still be free
men, reclining in safe concealment on the slope.
He had rushed to the girl’s assistance without
giving the least thought of consequences, and
bald brought Old J0e into the snare with him-
se f.

Ben Stetson, as soon as released, had made a
dive for his revolver, and would have shot the
young rancher had he not been prevented. He
was wild with rage and humiliation, and stern
words were necessary to hold him in subjec-
tion.

The girl had given Sidney and his friends a
keen glance, and then had,vanished, her retreat
being concealed by the rush and exc1tement.
Sidney felt that this was a poor recompense for
his reckless bravery.

They were scarcely given time to look about
the place in which they now found themselves,
but what they got to see of it showed them its
great advantages as a natural fortification.
The corral was mere] an extension of the
rocky walls, complete y open at that point to
the sky. There was anatural gateway through
it, but this was now barred by stones and strong
timbers to prevent the horses from getting out.

-The walls of the corral were easily scalable to

men, but they were rather high for a horse to
leap readily.

Of the several horses now huddling frighten-
edly at the further end of the inclosure, none
seemed to Old Joe to resemble the animal
which had so mystified. him on the previous
night. There was certainly none there with a
luminous coat; though he reasoned that it
might be there, and that the coat only shone in
the darkness—a very reasonable inference.

The openings into the interior of Prairie Gib—
raltar were comparatively small, and not to be
seen from the outside. They were further screen-
ed hy large stones rolled in front of them;
these stones serving also to prevent the ingress
of hostile bullets.

It was quickly apparent that the leader of
the outlaws was not at home, and Connetty
and Sidney naturally thought it possible he
was at the head of the party of rustlers who had
Secured some of Sidney’s cattle.

This leader, whose name was Romero, was
known throughout the country as Maverick Bill,
for the reason that he preferred togain unlawful
possession of all unbranded cattle he could lay
his hands on to taking those that had marks of
ownership on them. The mavericks could
always be more readily disposed of.

The treatment accorded to Sidney and the Old
Nomad was not of the kindest. They Were
urged forward with cuffs, kicks and curses,
and with threats that if they cried out to warn
their supposed friends they would be summarily
disposed of. The blows dealt Old Joe stung
Sidney more keenly than did even thOSe that
fell on his own person. Old Joe had sought to
help him, and this was his payment.

The interior of Prairie Gibraltar, so far as
they could determine on being first conducted
into it, consisted of a series of underground
chambers, with many small openings here and
there that let in the air and sunlight. While
the chambers appeared to be underground. they
were really ab0ve the general surface of the
country; and the natural loopholes with which
the walls were perforated gave a fair outlook on
the surrounding prairie.

In some respects the strange mass of umbled
rock known as Prairie Gibraltar resem led the
old lava beds in which the Modoce made their

last stand. But Prairie Gibraltar was not com- f
it ‘was principally white stone,

posed of lava.
cemented and bound together by what seemed to

 

bea natural concrete. There was much stone».
along the riVer at that point, and the singular-
rocky pile appeared to have been upheaved and
thrown into its present honeycombed condition
by some long-past convulsion of nature.

The prisoners were bound as soon as they were
forced into the chambers, and given to under-
stand that if they made any effort to escape
they would be instantly shot.

Scouts had already been sent out to look the
country carefully over, and ascertain the
strength of the cowboy force which was pre—
sumed to be near. The marauders were greatly
excited, and men were posted by them at the.
loopholes to be ready to repel any attack.
These, with the ones sent out, constituted almost
the entire available force, for the rustlers then
at home numbered considerably less than a
dozen men.

Sidney and the veteran watched these pre-
parations with anxious eyes. They knew there
was no danger of an assault from without, but
the scope of the preparations and the prompt—
ness with which everything was done, showed.
how difilcult it would be for any but an over-
whelming number to take the place by storm.
It convinced them that if Prairie Gibraltar ever-
fell, it would be more through subtlety or
treachery than open fighting.

The words of the outlaws as they discussed
the situation told the anxious captives that.
Maverick Bill was expected home within a short
time. To warn'him of the supposed danger a spy
had been sent sneaking through the valley grass
to the prairie beyond.

Sidney could not help smiling a little as he
witnessed all this anxiety and worry. 6 was
rewarded for it by a stern look and a threat.

“ You won’t feel so fine, my young ame—
cock when Maverick Bill gits hyer. It 3 my
opinion that he’ll give both 0 ye a mighty short
shrift!”

“ If you’d asked us any uestions, or given us
any chance to talk, we con (1 have told you that
you’re putting yourselves to a great deal of un—
necessary trouble.”

This speech was not so ill-considered as it may
appear. It would have been useless to have at-
tem ted to scare these men by making them
thin there were friends of the prisoners outside
ready to came to their rescue. The deception
must s00n be discovered. By plain speaking a.

int might eVeu be gained.

“ It’s my fault we got in here,” the young»
man confessed, speaking as much for the benefit-
of Old Jae as for the outlaw to whom the words
were addressed. “Perha s I was a little silly
in rushing into danger, ut no chap with a.

ark of manhood about him could see a great
big hulk abusing and kicking a woman without
interfering. That’s what I did, and that’s what
got us here. I shouldn’t care so much, if it
wasn’t for my friend. He simply came to help
me when I called out.” ,

The outlaw was listening not unkindly.

“ You sling that story to the captain when he
comes, an’ it mayn’t go hard With you, though
the captain is p’izen death on any man that’s.
unlucky enough to poke his head into this hole.
Did you say Panhandle Ben actually kicked the

iri?”
g “ So, that's his handle, is it? She called him
Ben Stetson. He didn’t exactly kick her, but he
threw her down and raised his foot to kick her
when I interfered and stopped his game. I
think he would have hurt her bad, for he was in
an ugly temper.”

“ Panhandle al’ays wus a dirty dog!” looking
around to make sure he could not be overheard.
“ You may bet yer boots old Maverick’ll make
it hot for him fer that i”

“ Who is she, anyway i” unable to longer con-
trol his curiosity and glad of the chance to ques-
tion this man. “ Is Maverick Bill her father?
What’s her name?”

He crowded the questions on each other, in his
ea erness.

‘ She’s old Maverick’s daughter, you bet! and
he thinks a pile of her, though he do abuse her
owdaciously, sometimes. But if he cusses at her
a hit, an’ even venters to whip her now an’ then,
he don’t ’low no other man to do it. ‘That’a
my heifer,’ he al’ays says; an’ he says it in a way
to make yer hair raise up. I wouldn’t be in
Panhandle’s boots fer a gold mine!” _

He ke earnestly, showing some httle
sympazh? for the girl and the young man who
had attempted to help her, but perhaps more of
in.wi1i toward Panhandle Ben. It was apparent
he ho his statements would be prophecies.

“ on haven’t told me her name!" Sidney re-
minded him.

“ Oh, I forgot. It’s Irene—Irene Romero !”

Philip Sidney gave it man" mental repetitions.

. s-
o

 

 

 

' Lone Hand Joe.

5

 

 

It was a pleasant-sounding name, and had even
asuggestion of the romantic about it. He de-
cided it was a very pretty name:—-almost as
pretty as the girl who here it.

Throughout the colloquy Old Conuetty re-
mained sternly silent, venturing not a sentence.
He was studying the situation; wondering h0w
he and Sidney were to get out of the scrape.
He realized the perils of their position even
more than did the young man.

Ben Stetson kept away from the captives, and
awe y from Irene. He did not even occupy him-
self with the search for the supposed cowboys.
He was in an angry and sullen mood. He had
been treated roughly. He did not see that he
had done anything wrong, and he resented the
affront be conceived to have been put upon him.,

In addition to this, he was in great fear of the
coming of Maverick Bill, and be burned to
avenge himself on Philip Sidney. He felt that
~Sidne was the prime cause of all the present
troub e, and he swore he would be even with
him for it before he left the place.

He went out to the corral, and looked far
over the prairie to see if there was a dust~cloud
anywhere, indicating Maverick’s approach. He
,had resolved to leave Prairie Gibraltar forever.
He would leave it, and escape the results of
Maverick’s anger; but not until he had settled
with Philip Sidney!

“I’ll kill him for that!” he mumbled, as he
shaded his e as with his hands, thinking of the
young catt eman, instead of the leader for
whose approach he was looking. “ When he
jumps onto Panhandle Ben, he tackles the wrong
dog. Talk about me hein’ drunk! If that feller
hadn't been crazy wild drunk, he wouldn’t’a’
never come over that wall in sichva fool fashion
a! that.” '

Panhandle fancied he was in love with Irene
Romero, and much against her will he per-
sisted in telling her so. It did not matter to
him that she repulsed him time and again.
These repulse: only made him the more resolute
and ag ressiVe. She had insulted him, and he
.had bur ed her to the earth and lifted afoot to
kick her. ,

He was sorry for that now, but be justified it
by her taunting manner.

He knew, however, that regret for a thing of
that kind would have little weight with Maw.-
rick Bill. He felt sure she would go to Maverick
with the story as soon as the chief arrived, and
if Maverick chanced to be inan ugly mood,
Panhandle was-pretty certain to‘bear from him
at once.

“ She said she'd have the shot for, that!” with
rankling remembrance. “ That’s somethin’ like
hangin’l Ketchin’ comes first. If Maverick
don’t git byer in a hurry, he’ll not git achance
to shoot me.”

Then, reflectively: ‘

‘3 Less‘n he does it when I come back!”

After. carefully glancing about to see that he
was unobserved, he approached the place where
the saddles and bridles were kept, and arranged
some of these so they could be easin got at.

He then returned to his pesto observatioa
and continued his watching of the horizon-
bounded prairie.

CHAPTER V.
THE armor or A KNIFE STROKE.

THE outlaws were soon able to assure them-
selves that their fears of an assault were ground-
less. Nothing was to he discovered on the

rairie or in the valley, except the horses which

ldney and Old Joe had tethered in the Willow
clump. -These were brought in and added to the
littlediunch in the corral. ‘

Darkness came, but it did not bring Maverick
Bill. This was in exact accordance with *the
wishes of the outlaw Whose long residence in the
Panhandle country of Texas had sivm him the
title of Panhandle Ben. I Maverick’l delay would
enable-him to execute hi8 Plan! and escape with-
out'dimeulty. ,

When the night was sufficiently advanced to
conceal his treacherous movaments, he a sin

‘ visited ,theoorral; and selected two of the st
1 horses it contained, which he saddled and bri.
u dlfii, and placed ready for use. ‘

a had become more desperate and deg”.

; mined with the wearing awayof the effect. of
on» liquor.
' forgive him for the violence done the girl. Hi.
‘ fancied love for

He. knew Maverick would never

her now made him V6 to
“to her with him, inasmuch as he felt com.
h to That was why he provided two

orses.

What

 

He returned to the interior of the stronghold,
and, unnoticed, marked the resting-place of
Philip Sidney. He meant to settle matters with
Sidney before leaving.

Panhandle Ben was a thorough] bad and
vicious man, with scarcely a redeeming trait in
his composition. The contemplation of murder
sat lightly on his conscience, if he can he said
to have had one.

Philip Sidney and Old Lone Hand were lying
near together in a little pocket which 'utted off
from one of the principal chambers. hey were
not sleeping. though they were tired enough to
feel the need of such rest: but wore conversing
in low tones. They had quietly talked the situ-
ation ever, and endeavored to devise some
means of getting away, but could hit on notli-
ing. Only for the cheery words of the old man,
Sidney would have lapsed into utter despair.
There was little of a pleasing character in the
outlook, but Old Joe managed to make the best
of every situation.

Their 10w conversation assisted Panhandle
Ben in noting their exact positions, and when
he had done this he beat a retreat to make fur-
ther preparations.

Guards had been posted on the walls, and a
scout or two out on the prairie, and as noth-
ing of a startling character had occurred since
the sudden appearance of the men Who were
now prisOHers, the remnant of the outlaws dis-
posed themselVes for sleep after their Usual
fashion. Connetty and Sidney had been given
something to eat, at which time an examination
of their bonds had showed them to be secure.

Ben Stetson waited until the sounds of heavy
breathing assured him his comrades were ob-
livious to all things muadane, when he erase
and cre t toward the prisoners, knife in hand.
He had ain down with the others for purposes
of deception; ‘

The only light netrating to the interior was
when the struggl ng moon occasionally shone in
through a crevice, and this was of a fitful, and
inefficient character. It suited Stetson very
well, however, for his contemplated deed was
not of a kind to bear strong inspection. What
light there was, was enough to show him the
forms of the Captives, and he had previously as-
sured himself which of these was Phil Sidney.

Like acreeping panther, he stole through the
glmm, his breathing suppressed, and the knife
held firmly.

Irene Romero was sleeping in her own little
apartment a. few ards away, as he believed.
At any rate, be had seen her retire to that
place, and whether she were asleep or awake
would make little difference.

Sidney and his pard were not asleep, as Stet-
son thus advanced on them, but they had dis-
continued their conversation for lack of some-
thing to talk about. Neither could suggest
anything likely to bring them immediate aid,
and each was now busy with his Own reflections.

Suddenly the form of Ben Stetson loomed
dimly through the gloom at their side, both see-
ing him at the same time. They could see, ten,
that he held a knife in his hand, and it required
no keen glance to know u hat he had come for.

‘Finding that his approach had been discov-
ered Stetson leaped at Sidney with a vicious
snar, at the same time uplifting the knife to
strike. ‘

“ ’Ware there 1” Joe shouted, in a very agony
ggetegror, as he beheld the daily-shining steel de-

n mg. \

Though bound, he lilted himself partially. and
with he corded feet lunged at the would-be
assassin. Fortunately for Sidney, Old Joe’s
heavy boots caught Stetson in the stomach and
hurled him backward. -

The knife, instead of reaching Sidney‘s breast,
as the desperado intended it should. struck the
thongs that bound Sidney’s uplifted wrists and
severed them. '~ ‘ _

01d Lone Hand’s about was loud enough to
arouse the outlaws; and Stetson, feeling sure the

. knife had gone true to its aim, gathered himself

up and fled,
had fallen.
As he sped from the place, the confused sounds
all about him told the the outlaws were tum?
blin out in anticipation of an attack.
ith a feeling of jubilance at the success of
his first efforts, and sure he could readilyesca ,
Etsgmn hurried toward the little room occnp ed
y race.
A blanket was hung before it to serve as a

leaving the weapon to lie where it

d ' .
no of them was fitted with her saddle. - '1‘?" “d “m b° “at “"1” “mm” mmuy‘

Ho’mliud that haste might mean the success a
a ' or failure of his plan, but he was engaged in a
 - “skin which hurry was not admissib e.

she. meant to do, must he done cautiously. __,

ough she was reclining on the cot. she had not
isrohod. Doubtless she was waiting for the

\

comingof Maverick Bill.,
i Stetson caught her up in his megs arms, laid
ahead across her lips to stifle her es, and ran

    

with her toward the corral where the horses
were in waiting making no more of her weight
than if she had on a feather.

Philip Sidney felt the cords give under the
knife-stroke and realized that he was free, so far
as his hands were concorned. As he lifted him-
self to a sitting posture, he saw the knife where
it had dropped at his feet. He grasped it, in-
tending to release himself and Old Connetty.

However, as he sawed through his bonds,
filled with this good intention, he heard the
smothered scream which Irene gave when Stet—
son invaded her apartment. It told Sidney that
the girl was, again in peril; and, with the hot
inipetuousness which was one of his failings, be
rushed in the direction of the cry, leaving Old
Lone Hand still bound and helpless.

A feeling that he was not doing ri ht was
upon him, and he told himself he woul return
in just a moment; but, when he saw Panhandle
Ben dart away with the girl, he forget this and
leaped in pursuit. Thus the opportunity of re—
turning was lost, for in less than a minute there—
after the outlaws were up and with arms in
their hands.

Stetson was not to escape so easily as he had
anticipated. The iiiteri-u ition to his scheme did
not come, hawever, from hilSidney. As Stet-
son reached the horses with the frightened girl
~—Sidney being at the time in full chase and
shouting loudly—there‘ciimeapounding of boots
from without, and an inquiring call from Mav—
erick Bill. The chiet of the desperadoes had.
come at last.

Stetson uttered a bitter curse, as he heard
Maverick‘s call, but he still strove to mount one
of the horses. As he did so, Maverick, who
knew that something was wrong, hurled down
the corral gate and stood in the Opening.

The fltful moonlight showed him the girl
struggling in Stetson’s arms. At the same mo.
ment, too, Irene released herself sufficiently to
cry out.

The answer was a shot from Mavsrick’s revol-
ver, that spun perilously near Stetson‘s head.

Thus beset both in front and rear, Stetson let
the girl slide to the ground, bent low in the-sado
die, and made a dash for the opening in the
corral. So quick did he make this rush, that
Maverick was bewildered and fired wildly. His
aim was also frustrated by the cry which came
from the girl as she dropped to the stony floor.

The men who had been with'Maverick Bill on
this last cattle-drive were hurrying their horses
up the slope. They now turned in full chase of
Panhandle Ben, when the latter burst through
the Opening and rushed away. . _

“After‘ him i” Maverick yelled, furious with
rage. “ Ketch himl Shoot himl Lay to it,
boys! Don’t let him git away!” -

He ran for his own horse; and,“ soon ashe
could mount, rode swiftly in pursuit.

The outlaws who had been within the fortress
had rushed out; and now, as they heard Mav-
erick Bill’s loud commands, they hurried to get
their own horses, paying no heed to the girl
nor to Philip Sidney, and eqpally forgetfulof,
Old Joe. Likely, if they noticed Sidney, they
thought he was one of them.

time. the were racing across the prairie, guided
by the ritre’ating hoof-beats of Maverick and
his men. ' .

Sidney had seen the girl slip‘from the arms of
Stetson, and as she did not arise,jbe .ran toward
her as soon as he could safely do so.

was vacated. There were two or three horses
still in it, and Sidney was ’not so crazy but that
seen by Old Joe on the previous n ht.
glanca. .
The girl was more scared than hurt, and she
was'scrambling to her feet as he drew near.
“You here?" was. her excited question, when.
she recognized him. .
a minute! You will be killed, if youareoaughtl
Take that horse. that shining one over there
and leave at ones! He is the fastest—«Ind
other reasons I want you to take him.”
Sidney looked at the horse in amazement.

our not hurt l” . .
' ’m not hurt at all! Take thstborse and go:
Go while you canl It will soon be toolatel”

‘ But I must return for Old Joel" he declared,
stung by his temporarifliorgetfulness.

“ You cannot get
“ The guards never leave their posts. Go: 69
while you can!” t '

me
u

that her

 

I‘ ' . .-"
. , ..,4
I ‘ 4' V

opening, only -to find

In an almost inconceivany short space of ’

He did not stop, though, to give'it asecond. :

“ You must not starboa-

toil,

    
 

With the exception of these two, the corral ‘

he noticed one of them was the phantom horse
a .

“You are not hurt?" he questibned. “Tell

ck there!" she-urged; '

In spite of this. Sidney ran back towsrdtho  t.
  
‘correct. He was recognized and ilrod at   i

 

- old man.

A... v‘

 

hadwbollyd‘ ppsaredl

  

6

 

,_ . . . . _

Lone Hand J 09.

 

 

of the guards from the wall; and, when he still
attempted to go on, no discovered that the way
was blocked. One of the outlaws stood in the
opening itself.

He hastened back to the corral, thinking he
might be able to persuade the girl to release the

“ I cannot go without him!” he said. “I will
stay here and die first! It's my fault that he’s
not with me now 1”

She had felt sure he would return in a mo-
ment, and in the short interval of his absence
had slipped a bridle on the horse selected.

“Dent fear for your friend l” was her assur—
ing whisper. “I romise to look after him.
But you mun-t go. a must not be seen talking
here. Go! Go!” and she pushed him toward
the animal.

He heard the outlaw rushing down the incline
in their direction, and he knew that he could do
nothing else. So he slipped to the back of the
horse, and gave it the rein. He could not help
Old Joe, now, bitterly as he regretted his in-
ability. If he stayed he would be retaken; and
if he went, there would boa chance to return
and assist the old man. There seem ' nothing
else to do; and she assured him he need have no

‘ fear for his friend’s safety.

 

CHAPTER VI.
BORN]: BY ran sroox srnnn.

SIDNEY'S thoughts were not of the most reas-
suring character as he turned the horse's head
toward the corral gate. The very fact that
he was sitting astride; of the queer animal
whose incom rchensible actions had been wit-
nessed by 0! Joe did not tend to serenity of
mind. Sidney had little of the superstition of
the old borderman and would not have ac-
knowledged that he had any; but for all that he
was by a feeling of indefinahle fear.

He remembered that Irene Romero
selected the animal, because he was fast, she
said—and for another reason, which she did not

at into words. What was that other reason?
asthe horse likely to play him some trick?
Surely. it could not Vanish from beneath him
and leave him sprawling on the prairie l—though
Old Joe had saidthat he had seen it disappear,
as ifalamp had been blown out. That was
certainly an unaccountable thing.

He could feel its warm body beneath him,
and the play of its muscles as it bounded for-
ward. If it was not a real horse, it was enough
like one. But. ofcourse it wasareal horsel. Was
he not at that moment gripping it with his legs,
and was it not;carrying him speedily away from
all danger? '

With the corral behind him and the open
prairie before. Sidney began to breathe freer,
and ventured to reac forward and stroke the
horse’s neck. The coat shone with that dull
glow of which Old Joe had spoken, but it was
unmistakably hair which Sidney’s hand touched.
There was apparently nothing on it—no phos-

horns, or anything of the kind, to give it the
ight. and Sidmz could only wonder amazedly
at what he bahal

His thoughts were not all for the horse.’ He
was thinkin also of Lone Hand and of Irene
Romero. relentlessly chided himself for
his seeming abandonment of his friend. He
had not meant to abandOn him; and attempted
to, frame an excuse for whathe had done. He
would have released Old Joe, but for that cry
from the girl. That had caused him to lose his
head; and after occurrences had prevented his
return. But he could‘scarcely make himself be
lieve that time was not given himin which to
cut J oe’s bonds.

1 It was not pleasant to dwell on this, and he
turned to the girl. Perhaps he did not at the
time realize it, but he was already greatly
enamored of her, and likely to become more
so if given many opportunities of seeing her.

He thought she was the handsomest woman he,

had ever beheld; and it delighted him to re-
call the gracequ of her carriage, the queen-
ly poise of her sad. and the beauty of her ex-
pressive face. a ’had seen that she had a tem-
r and will of her own, but that only caused
im to admire her the more. Y
He recalled her promise to aid Old Joe. That
must have been what her words meant. Par-
haps she had already fulfilled, this promise,

and his old pard was even now at liberty? The

ho'erwas inspiriting.
train of thought was interrupted by the
horse, which shied violently at some object. It
was very likea horse to do that. Very like a
real horse! But Sidney, now that his attention
was again directed to the animal, was made
“are that the singular rescent glow
isa He could not under-

  

 

 

stand it, and looked at the animal beneath him
with a thrill of fear. "

Involuntarin the words of a song, just be-
coming popular at that time, crossed his mind:

“ Where was Moses when the light went out?”

Moses was on the back of the animal, without
doubt; but he was not in a pleasant mental state.
He was even inclined to throw himself from the
strange creature and trust to his own legs for
future safety. ,

Before he had time to form a theory, or a
plan of action, he noticed that the glow was re-
turning. - It was very faint at first, but became
brighter and brighter until the former dull yel-
lowish cast was resumed.

This was as mysterious as the disappearance
of the light, and Sidne ’s teeth fairly chattered
as he witnessed it. e straightened himself
with an effort, and became aware that his face
and person were bathed in a profuse perspira-
tion. ,

“Ugh!” and he shivered. “That makes me
feel decidedly creepy. I wonder, now. what
caused that?”

It was an unanswerable question.

Sidney had turned the animal in the direction
of Good Cheer Ranch; and, as they were bowl-
ing along at an excellent gait, he did not throw
himself from the horse’s back. Whatever strange
mystery surroanded it, it had carried him well
so far; and be trusted it still further.

Once he thought he heard the clatter of hoofs
behind him, some distance away, and drew rein
a moment to listen. But the sounds had died
out, and he went on again.

With the exception of what has been noted
nothing of a startling character was develo
throughout the ride; and in due season he drew
near the ranch buildings. It had been a long
trip, and he had for the horse to its best
it

A number of the cowboys had just returned
from an unsuccessful search for the cattle which
had been gobbled by the rustlers—a search in
which they had also spent much time in looking
for their strangely-absent employer. They were
gathered near one of the corrsls, not havin put
away their horses, and were conversing wit the
other cowboys, who had likewise come in late
and had not at dismounted.

Sidney cou d see them, dimlymutlined, as they
stood and sat there, but he could not see the
startled looks with which they were viewing his
advance. These men had heard of,the spectral
steed of Prairie Gibraltar, and some of them
averred they had seen it. ,

As the glowing animal continued its approach
_it being plainly visible, though the form of its
rider seemed the merest outline of a man—the
alarm of the cowboys Incremd. At length their
superstition would rmit them to face it no
lon er. With ipart culate cries they turned in
flig t—those who were dismounted scrambled
wildly for the backs of their horses.

Sidney saw this movement, and at the same
moment was made aware of its cause. But the
knowledge came too late to stop the stampede.
B e shouted loudly to the men, trying totell them
who he was, and endeavoring to assure them
that their fears were needless. His shouts and
e lanations only made the matter worse.

heir'flight degenerated into a panic, in which
terror was thecontrollinlghimpulse. In vain Sid-
ney shouted to them. ey would not stop to
hearken to his words.

Knowing the speed of the animal he rode, he
dashed in pursuit, hoping to overtake some of
themzand make them understand that they were
acting very silly. This chase increaSed their
fright; and, plying quirt and spur, they urged
their ponies into a Headlong run.

Seeing he could do nothing, Sidney drew in
with a sarcastic laugh, forgetting that only a
short time before he had been almost as badly
frightened and that his nerves had not wholly
recovered their steadiness. .

“ The fools!” he exclaimed, turning again to-
ward the ranch house. “They’re running like
wild jack-rabbits! If they had only stood their
groups a minute, they would have learned the
trnt . ‘

There was now nota cowboy on the place,
and only a few ponies. , He turned the horse in-
to the corral and went into the house, not know-
ing what else to do. Some of the cowboys might
return after a time: and, when he had explained
to them h0w foolish had been their fright, he
could send them to look up their comrades.

He was greatly vexed at what had Occurred
for he had counted on the aid those men could
render. His plans were all matured. Be meant
totake his men'and rescue Old Connetty, if it
was found be had not been released. Now, he
could do nothing. , . ' ,

O

' We may be overheard, if we talk.

 

f‘ The fools!” he 21 am exclaimed, getting up
and striding nervous y across the room. “ heir
Silliness may bring about Old Joe’s death 1”

CHAPTER VII.
.- “ THE COMMITTEE or ONE.”

, “ WHY couldn’t the lmy hev cut the loose
while he was at it?” Old Connetty grumbled, as
he strained fruitlessly at his bonds, after Sidney
leaped up and disappeared. “ He goes lum
wild after a bit of calico, that boy does; an fer-
gigs the old friend that’s stood by him this many
a ay.

There was something of bitterness in the
words, showing that the old nomad was hurt by
this abandonment. He had heard the scream of
the girl, and knew that was why Sidney had
sped so quickly away.

But he recalled this selfish thought as soon as
he had expressed it; and, as the sounds from
the outside revealed. that a chase and pursuit
was in progress, he Sincerely wished that what-
ever else Sidney might be able to do, he might
succeed in aidin Irene.

“ I reckon she s hevin’ a tolerable hard row to
hoe in this den 0’ serpents,”Connetty comment-
ed, givlng over his vain strug le, when he saw be
con d not free himself. “ he needs a friend
hyer o’ the right stripe, but I calc’late she’ll not
find one in a hurry. Even that mis’able old dad
o’ hers whups her sometimes, the feller said.
He wouldn’t darst to do it, if Old Joe was
around i”

He could gather little of what was happening
outside, but that little gave him hope. A few
words spoken to him from an excited desperado
showed that some horseman had dashed out of
the corral, and he thought it must refer to
Sidney.

“ o it, boy!" was his exultant exclamation.
“ I’m With ye in spirit, if I hain’t in body!”

All of the awn eued outlaws had streamed
from the interior after Ban and Sidney, leaving
Old Lone Hand alone. Even the one guard was
not then at the entrance, though be stationed
himself there in a short time. The sentinels
were on the walls, of course; for, as Irene had
stated, it was strictly against orders for them to
abandon their posta

Joe strained again at his bonds in another
desperate effort to release himself, but he only
sulclceeded incuttlng himself cruelly and pain-
fu y. ’

After a. long time, as it seemed to him, he
heard a light footstep at his side, and, staring
up into the darkness, made out the form of Irene
Romero. I -,

‘ “ Hush!” she said, and her fingers were lifted,
warningly. “ I’ve come to give on your liberty.
I promised him I would, but i we,succeed, we
must be very quiet.” . r

“ Then the boy got away?”

“ Yes; but you mustn’t ask me any questions.
s got away
one good horse, and is far tram here by now.”

The words were the'merest whls rs. _

Connetty expressed his satisfact on by a grunt
of a proval.

“ have prepared a ham for you,” she whis~
pox-ed, kneeling down and cutting his bonds with
a penknife.
below the corral. I think you can find
without any trouble. I tied him therel Be is
saddled and bridled.”

She was sawing at the cords as she he. and
Old Joe gavefinother grunt of sat
be felt them Blip from his wrists. .

H You’re a blessed good girl!” was hishearty
remark, though in a tone almost. as low as hers,
lifting one of his cramped hands and Riving her
bowed head a fatherly pat. “ If ever I can help

 

you, count on Old Joe! 1’!!! POWGI'W glad the '

oy got away! I ’low he’ll go straight to the
ranch and rustle out the cowboys.” 7

“You must not let them attack this place!”
she urged. “I forgot to make him promise
that, before he went. I‘was almost too excited,
then, to think. But you Will not let them come
here?” ,

“ I’ll whup the fu’st man that p’ints his now
this way, it you say for me to!” his jubilance in—
creasing, ashe felt the cords give on his ankles.

“I want to try to get father to leave .this

place, but it-these men should come to attack '

him, maybe he couldn’t do that, you know. You
understand?”

“ I think I understand; and while I can’t say
that I admire your pa'r, I’ll reecollect what.
you’ve said. -.

"" He mightbe killed or captured, you "know,
and then he couldn't leave! speaking aggrly;
and earnestly. “There, you’re free. a

forget where the horse is tied. I’ll show you-

. the way out. You can’t go out the main way,

“ He is in a bunch of willows glint .
m

ction as '

.
u

 

 

 

r
J

 

 

, had'done before him. He was sure
gone there.

i the darkness before him.

 

Lone Hand Joe.

,’ VI. ‘ I
4 7

 

 

for there’s a sentinel there. And tell him [’1
never, never forget how he threw himself into
danger to help me to-day.” ~

' The tones were tremulous and earnest.

“ Yes; I’ll tell him,” Old Lone Hand promised.
“I’ll reecollect every word."

He staggered to his feet and stretched, his
cramped limbs. _

“This way!” she Whispered, leading him out
of the place along a narrow passage. “We
must make haste; and we must be very quiet. I
don’t know what father would do to me if he
knew what I’ve done to-n-ight.”

The tunnel-like passage opened at last at an
obscure point on the hillside—a point that was
concealed from outward View.

She did not follow 'Connetty through the open-
ing, but whispered after him:

“ The river is just there on your right. You’ll
find the horse in the willows only a few yards
down the bank. You’d better lead him, until
you get far enough away to mount safely.”

The old man opened his lips to thank her, but
saw that she had disappeared. He felt very
queer. after all that had happened, and could
hardly realize that he was a free man again,
standing out there on the rocky slope beneath
the cloudy sky. ' 5

He could hear the guards calling to each other
from the walls, and this increased his caution
as he made his way to the river. The horse
was readily found; and, when he had led it some
distance down the valley, he climbed into the
saddle and rode silently away. . .

When certain he was beyond hearingof the
people of Prairie Gibraltar, Lone Hand to ned
in the direction of Cheer Ranch as Si ney

Sidney had

He did not know of the chase after Ben Stet-
son, made by Maverick Bill. Once he heard a
far-away thunder of boots; but, as he could not
tell the cause, and they did not seem to be com-
ing toward him, he rode contentedly on. He
and Sidney were out of the clutches of the cat—
tle-thieves, a thing to be devoutly thankful for;
and he did not choose to question the future.

When within a mile or two of Good Cheer
Ranch, the old tramp was thrown almost into a
panic by beholding the Spook Steed loom out of

It was riderless, and
advancing at an easy center. To meet it thus
on the prairie, so far away from Prairie Gibral-
tar, was a thinginexplicsble at the time.

He sat silent in the saddle withdrawn rein,
and watched it with breathless interest, as it
centered by only a hundred yards away. He
turned in his Seat, and let his gaze follow it un-
til it was swallowed up in the gloom.

“ That beats me!” he declared, drawing a.
de'ip sigh of relief. . .

_ hen be jogged on toward the Good Cheer.

, He was given a glimmer surprise when the
ranch was reached. at asoul was there! Two

- or three ponies were grazin near the ranch

buildinga, That was all. d although he
looked the place over, he could find neither Sid.
1193’ nor the cowboys. _

“ P I Stump ag’ini” was his dubious aver-
3180?. 33 he stood in the doorway and took a re-
fleetive survey of the house, “ I’ve been a-bump-
111’ 88"“, mysteries for two days now, an’ this is
ekal to the biggest o’ ’ein l”

30 enter“ “d sat down in a chair, be ing
by thought to and a solution to the prob em.
He could make nothing of it. Sidney had had
abundant time to get there. Many things might;
have occurred. 0‘ Coumi‘to interrupt him and
“350 deny, but that could not explain the ab-
sence cf the cowboylf He had been at the ranch

. many times, and this was the first time he had

seen it completely deserted. , _
As he looked further, be flaw saw all about

' ,pini signs of unnatural confusion.

.“ They’s somethiu’ wrong hyerl Somethin’
monstrous wrong! The boy hain’t come, ner I
don’t think he’s a-goin’ t0; 80’ the cowboys hev
been driv’ of! the place. OtherWlse, they would-
n’t hev left! *

“Matters seem mighty topsy-tprvy; an’ Old
Joe anuetty, hem an’ now, app’ints himself a
Committee 0’ One to go to the. bottom 0’ things
ginerslly! If them cattle-thieves hev had a
hand in this. I kin tell ’um that they won't be
long in hearin’ from the committee! You bet:
Lone Hand’ll play hiskeei'ds for all they is wu’th
at it runs him inter Satan’s kitchen.”

“L.- ,
CHAPTER .VIII.
'  A DESPERATE near.
' PHILIP SinNnY’s vexation increased, rather
than diminished, as the minutes slipped by

‘, without M n the return of an of the cow-
boys. ‘. m g 1 ,y,

 

J

He had removed the bridle from the phantom
horse, and turned it into the corral. It shone
oddly enough there, and be mentally likened it
to a diamond in a setting of barbed wire.

Feeling somewhat hungry, he re-entered the
house and ransacked the pantry for something
to eat. While thus engaged, the door was vio-
lently thrown open, and a man showed himself
in the opening, being clearly revealed by the
lamp which Sidney had lighted.

It was Ben Stetson.

Stetson knew the house was occupied only by
Sidney, for he had approached it carefull
and made a survay through one of the smal
Windows. He was still burning to be revenged
on Sidney, and had followed him there for that
purpose. What caused him to dose can be speed-
ily made known.

The sounds of hoofs‘ which Sidney fancied he
heard while on the way from Prairie Gibraltar,
were those of Stetson’s horse. Stetson observed
the Spook Steed heading toward Good Cheer
Ranch; and leaped to the conclusion‘that Old
Lone Hand had seen and was astride of it.
Sidney he thought he had finished with the
knife-thrust. He was almost as anxious to
gunish Old Connettyas he had been to punish

idney ; and, feeling that he had thrown Maverick
Bill off his trail, he followed the glowing horse
at a safe distance. x -

Stetson was close enough to observe the effect
of .the horse on the cowboys, and had laughed
quietly as he saw them speeding away so wild-
ly. He did not approach the buildings,how-
ever, until certain the cowboys did not in-
tend to return. Then, as already stated, he
crawled up to one of the windows and beheld
Sidney while the latter was ransacking the

- pan try.

This was a tremendous surprise *0 Sim-“On.
and at the first glance he could scarcely believe
the evidence of his eyes. He could not doubt
that he saw a living, breathing man before
him, when he witnessed Sidney stowing away
liberal quantities of eatahles. No spirit would
eat like thatl

Stetson’s rage gathered in forceand volume
as he stood at the window and knew without
doubt that the man whom he thought he had
slain was still in the land of the living; and he
swore a great oath that he would yet accomplish
his purp0se. \

Assuring himself again that the cowboys.
Were not returning, he strode angrily to the
door, hurled it Open and leaped through into the
room. ,

Sidney dropped the loaf of bread at which he
was gnawing, when he beheld this apparition,
and, with a motion that was almost instinctive,
reacl ed for his revolver.

Before he could get it out, Stetson leaped on
him, tore the weapon from its place. and hurled
it across. the room. His desire seemed to be to
disarm Sidney, and then sla him at his
pleasure. This was proven by t a fact that he
did not fire on Shine from the window. He
might easily have kill him from that point by

‘ a well-directed pistol-ball.

“ Put dowu yer hands!” he growled, as Sidney
throw up his arms to defend himself. “ I hain t
a- oin’ to hit ye yit. ' When I git ready, though,

set my heel on your head as if ’twas the
head of a snake, an’ grind the life out 0’ ye l”

He had placed h mself between Sidney and/
the revolver on the floor. There was no weapon
within Sidney’s reach, and nothing now on his
person except the small knife in one of his
pockets. Even the rude chairs with which the
room was plentifully supplied were where he
could not get at them. ‘

Stetson believed he had his enemy “dead to
rights,” as he would have ,expressed it, and
smiled sardonically.

“ W hen ou go out of this house,._vou’ll be car-
ried out, reck0nl” an evil sneer curling his
lips. “I. see you’ve been ridin’ that phantom
boss. No luck ever comes to the man that does
that. The thing’s a-movin’, ha’uted mystery,
that brings misfortune to every one that meddlvs
with it. I’ve seen it tried dosens of times, and
never knowed it to fail it. When you throwed
your leg over the bac of that brute, it meant
you was a-goin’ to ride to your death. It meant
this: you wus to be killed; an’ hyer I am to kill

8 v

The words were hissed savagely.

Stetson’s eyes were blazing, h s face set with
the deepest hatred, and to give emphasis to his
words he thumbed the keen edge of the knife he
had dra wn. _ .

Philip Sidney was doing some rapid thinking!
but even- while he thought, he wondered vaguely
if ,Irene Remero believed in the ill fate which,
as Stetson claimed, attached to any obs who

/ , I. .

‘\

 

. I' ,»

 

mounted the phantom horse. If she believed in
that, and had thought to send him out to his
death—he would not credit her with such base-
ueSs. and cast the foul suggestion behind him.

“ That hoss is hewitched,” Stetson continued,
watching the elfect of his words. “It ain't a
thing of this earth. Better fer a man to ride
the broomstick of an old witch than to straddle
that spook beast." .

What puzzled Sidney more than anything else
was that Stetson seemed to believe in the truth
of his statements. ' ‘

The desperado’s manner was becoming more
threatening at every moment, and, for lack of
anything else with which to defend himself, Sid-
ne felt for the clasp-knife in his pocket.

tetson saw the movement, and, thinking a
hidden pistol was about to be produced, leaped
on Sidney with tigerisb ferooity.

The combat that followed was terrible. As
the men came together they locked in a bear-
like hug; and, strainin and tugging for the
mastery, they reeled and staggered about the
room, with labored breathing and blows that
Were constant, but ineffectual.

Sidney had succeeded in grasping Stetson’s
knife-hand, and now used his utmost endeavors
to retain his hold on it, realizing that if the ruf- _
flan once broke that clasp a desperate and per~
bags mortal thrust would immediately follow.

ow the fight mi ht have ended cannotbe
told, for it was broug t to a sudden termination
by an unexpected interruption. Maverick Bill

and some of his men leaped through the open.

doorway, with loud and excited cries. I
Stetson recognized the voice of his "chief,
even before he was aware of his presence. It
seemed to portend his own doom. ,Hurlin the
young ranchman from him with herculean ores
he leaped for the nearest window, without stop-
ing to count the number of the new-comers.
The leap was followed by a crashing of glass, as
Stetson went head-first through the sash, fallin
heavily to the ground outside. The bhot whipg
Maverick fired did i not touch him; so he scram~
bled up in haste and made for one of the horses.
The horses of Maverick’s men were standing
close by the building, and to the back of one of
these Stetson sprung. He gave a triumphant
yell, as he sunk the rowels deep into the flanks of

the startled animal, and turned its head toward. y ‘

the open prairie. .

“ Ketch me, if you can i”

With this taunting, backward flin , be cleared
the circle of buildings and saw be ore him the
weiy to liberty.

hilip Sidney could not have been more start-
led! and bewildered, if the floor had suddenly and.
unaccountath given way beneath his feet, than

minat'on of the fight. :

In s te of his dazed condition he realized that
the presence of these desperadoes could bode him
no good. He had only exchanged one form of
peril for another.

There was a rush from the room and a futile
pursuit of Stetson by some of Maverick’s follow-
ers, but Maverick and his principal men did not
leave the room until they had secured and safely
bound the young rauchmsu.

The runaway could not be captured ' and,
when this was ascertained, Sidne was me
from the house and lifted to one the saddles
Hefive a glance toward the corral and start,-
ed. e phantom horse was gone! .

CHAPTER 1X.
STETSON'S scans.

THE confused condition of the robin caused by
the struggles which had occurred therein. was
what told Old Joe Connetty that matters had
gone wrong with Sidney.

The veteran borderman was 9.
signs, and set himself deliberately to in t

 

the correct meaning of what he saw. That t ere» '

had been a fierce strusii‘le could not he section-
ed. Its indications were abundant an unmis
takable, But he was misled by the broken win-

dow and the imprint of SietsOn’s ban s and knees -

in the soil beneath it. Joe though he saw in

these evidence that Sidney had been surprised, . -

and had made his escape by that way." .
He found further confirmationiu this belief
when, with a lighted lantern, be searched the
soil about the building». He found the trail
made by
and the hoof-prints of the (horse that ha
urged in pursuit. it seemed as plain as day to,
him that Sidney had leaped through the win-
dow, secured a horse, and fl . -

He returned to the house and again cri '  ;

inspected it. His imagination conjured u the?
entire scene. as he fancied .it'to have been.

 

was the broken leaf on the floor; and he  ,

k‘

keen reader 'of ‘

l he was by the coming of Maverick, and the ter- \ ‘

I,

Stetson’s horse in leaving thegilaee, 'V

x .

  

 

 

.-,,,’,,_,.~ “mu; _. .51. . . . ..  v as"... r.

l

Lone Hand Joe.” ‘

 

 

Sidney sitting at the table, or preparing for him-
self a meal, and the interruption that followed.
He did not doubt that the invaders of the ranch-
house Were Maverick Bill and his men; and he
rejoiced in the thought that Sidney had escap: d
their clutches.

He took up the loaf and i-nuuched at it as he
passed out of theiroom. His plans were made.
He Would follow the trail of Shirley‘s horse and
see haw the young man had fared. From the
hoof-prints, he believed Maverick had aban-
doned his pursuit; but of this, he could not be
absoluter certain. There were many returning
hoof- prints, but all of the desperadoes might not
have turned back. Some of them might have
continued on.

He could determine that better further out on
the prairie; and he hastened to place himself in
a position to quiet his fears. If Sidney’s trail
continued on alone, he would know the chase
had been given over. If other trails accom-
panied it, he would know that it had not.

Old Loue Hand breathed a deep sigh of relief
when. less than a half-mile from the ranch
buildings, he found the trail of a single horse
continuing straight out into the prairie. It was
the trail of Ban Stetson’s horse, but the old man
held to the delusion that it was Sidney’s; and he
moved cheerfully forward, dismounting and
making an examination occasionally to make
sure he was not straying from the right course.

He was puzzled to account for Sulney’s going
in that direction, but Sidney was master of his
own movementst and might have many good
3nd sufficient causes wholly unknown to Old

w.

The night was now far advanced, and the old
man was weariecl and sleepy, having had no
groper rest for a longtime; but, in spite of this,

eclung pei'tinaciousl y to the trail. .

When daylight came, and the hoof-prints slill
continued onward in a straight line, Connetty
began to be puzzled still more. in that direction

' there was no point which Sidney would be likely

l

 

 

to seek.
. “I reckon the young feller knews what he’s
a~doin’,” he duhiously averred, “ but hanged if
it locks like it! He must hev got that excited
at ever’thing that’s happened, that he’s gone
plum crazy i” -
in no other way could Joe adequately explin
(what he conceived to be Sidney’s strange con-
not.

The sun had barely risen when he descended
into a bushy draw among sand-hills, ’aud unex-
pgctedly found himself in the presence of a num-

r ofvdismounted horsemen. The horses Were
tethered, and the men seemed to be conversing
over the morning meal. The trail of Sidney’s
su posed horse led straight to the grou l

, one Hank knew not whether toa vanes or
wheel about. His indecision was observed by

,one of the men, who immediately stood out

from among his fellows and shouted:

“ It’s all right, Lone Hard! Come right up
and bears hand with us. We’re friends !”

The s aker was Stetson. »

.The 0 d borderman thought he recognized him,
but was not sure of it; and, when the invitation
was repeated. be advanced toward the fire. He
felt sure Sidney must be there, either as a free
man or as a prisoner; and in either case, be de-
sired to know it.

Although Connetty went forward somewhat
suspiciously, he was not prepared for what hap-
pened. There were not as many men as he had
at first thought—only three or four. They
seemed inclined to friendliness, until he was in
their presence. Then they seized him and
Wed him from the saddle. I

" hat’a the meanin’ of this?” was his'indig-

‘ . ‘ nant uestion.

“ ‘ 8 don‘t intend to hurt you,” Ben Stetson
assured.

you a chance to use your-weapons.
. 9‘ I'd like a little talk With on,” when the vet»

V ' area had been relieved of h revolver. “ You

can sit down comfortable like on the sand there,
an’ we’ll pretend we’re old friends havin’ a
pleasant chat.”

» Q“ What hev you done with the boy?” Jon de-
* mended. glaring about. '

Stetson laughed, the question and look ei-
laining

something that had hitherto puzzled
“So. that's why you follered my'traill You

thought i was Phil Sidney? You was away 03

there; but I’m glad you’ve come. AsI said, I
want a talk with on.” ' Y
{'12 PM , than!" looking at the deeper-

WV "  with eyes that

“You'll have-to ask somebody that knows.

ESofie was-ionic own  last time! lean-

‘expedi'tion, the escape of the thieves, and more
than likely the death of the young ranchman.

“ But we wanted to make certain you ,
wouldn’t run away, an’ we didn’t care to give

 

him, havin’ a lively tussle with Maverick Bill.
 I was guessin’, I’d say that Maverick gobbled
im.

This was unwelcome information, and Old
Lone Hand groaned.

“ I’m glad you come.” Stetson repeated. “I
want to do up Maverick Bill, an’ you’re jist the
teller to help me. Mavei ick chased me like a
bound to-night, and would have killed me if he’d
got his lingers on me.” , ,

“ Au’ served ye right!” Old Joeifearlessly de-
clared. I

This was not pleasant and Stetson frowned.

“ Better curb that temper a little, or we won’t
git on so Well as I hoped. I’ve got you now, an’
you won’t git away unless you promise to do
what I ask.

“ You knew where Fort Yucca is? About
twenty miles from hyer?”

The old nomad did not reply.

“ I want you to go to Fort Yucca an’ tell the
commander that Ben Stetson, one of Muwrick’s
men, stands ready to sh0w him the way into
Prairie Gibraltar. You hear that, do you? you
old sinnerl That’s the way I propose to do up
Maverick. Tell him if he’ll see that I’m granted
a. free pardon for everything I’ve done, I’ll show
him how to git at Maverick Bill an’ his men, an’
help him to capture them.

“ These three chaps,” nodding toward his com-
rades, “ used to belong to Maverick’s band, same
as I did. But they’re out of it, now, an’ out of
it for good, some as I am. He must agreeto
grant them free pardon, likewise.”

“ Why don’t you, go yourself?” Joe ques-
tioned. ,

“ I should, if ,1 wasn’t afraid to. The com-
mander of the fort might hold me there, and
that wouldn’t be pleasant. If there wasn’t some-
thing to keep me from going. do you suppose I’d
try to argue you into doing it?” '

" What am I ter hev fer this?”

“Your liberty,” 'was Stetson’s prompt reply.
“ G3 to the post and tell the commander what I
say ; after that you can go where you please.”

It “as an excellent opportunity to get out of
Stetson’s clutches, and to continue the search
for Phil Sidney. All through this conversation
he had been thinking of Sidney constantly. If
Stetson had spoken the truth, it was likely that
Sidney was again in the power of Maverick Bill.

The old man gave himself up to a short pe-
riod of thought. He had very little faith in the
ability of the soldiers. His many years of isola-
tion made him prefer to rely sole] on his olvn
energies in every emergency. 9 really be-
lievedthat if the soldiers Were sent after Maver-
ick Bill’s men, the result would be a bungling

Therefore, there was ,8. mental reservation,
when he again looked at Ben Stetson, and said:

“I’ll go!” , ‘ .

This was the premise Stetson sought; and
when be bad recsivved it, he more fully elabor-
ated the plans he wished conveyed to the com-
mander; and a few minutes thereafter, Old Joe
was seated on his own horse, making his way
from the hated camp.

He kept straight on in the direction of Fort
Yucca until he had placed more than a mile. be-
hind hlm, and was completely hidden from Stet-
son's men by the intervening sand-hills. Then

lfie cianged his course toward Good Cheer
anc . ‘

9‘ I_told him I’d go!” he muttered imly.
“ But I didn’t tell him whur I’d go to. e was

thinkin’ of Fort Yucca when I said it, an’ I wus
thinkin’ o’ the young feller, an’ there’s whur the
mix come in. I don t want none 0’ them sugars
to come rampin’ round, sp'ilin’ everything. I’d
rather resk the Committee of One n a. thing 0’
this kind! I would, by a good deal!”

 

CHAPTER X. .
AT roar Yucca.

3m: S’rn‘rsox’s anger wasunmeasured when he
found that Did Joe had deceived him. He did
not know of this until the afternoon of the fol-
lowing day. About that time, his anxiety be-
coming great he rode out to the sand-bills in the
direction of il‘ort Yucca to watch for thecom-
ing of the troopers. He expected them. before

nightfall, and had planned to make an advance '

on Prairie Gibraltar with the comin‘gkof dark-
ness. His suspicions mi'ng aw sued by
their non-appearance, he sought out the trail of
Old. Joe‘s horse, and discovered the deception
which had been practiced to him.

More than twenty-four our: of what be con-
sidered valua is time had been lost“ There was
no chance 0 retaking Old Conuptty.and’the

 

only thing left for Stetson to do to bring about

 

‘ .' i. l‘ .!
7.4.:‘1‘!  .~... 5:, V ‘.  .
,- - I r .- , V _ ., ‘ ,.

i u

the consummation of his wishes, was to visit the

fort himself, or send one of his men. - f 

He rode hack to camp in a Very irritated l
mood. Then, having thought the subject out‘,‘
he announced his intention of going to the fort.
He advised his mento remain where they were,
or in the near vicinity, until they could hear
from him; when, if he succeeded, they could
come in and join the troopers in the march on
Maverick Bill's stronghold.

Before morning he was in front of the gates ,
of Fort Yucca; and after communicating his I
wishes to the senitry who halted him, was led
before the post commander.

He found Colonel Thomas Tomlinson, a very
fussy little ofiicer—lvrnve without doubt—but
{IiVl‘n to exaggerating trifles, and a most rigid ’
disciplinarian. ‘

The colonel was not pleased at being aroused
at so early an hour to receive such a caller,
and frowned on the intruder in the stifl’est
manner.

“ What can I do for you?" he demanded, when
Stetson had made an awkward salute and stood
waiting before him. “ You come on business of l
importance, I’m told.” '

Stetson assured him he had been informed -
correctly; and was abOut to plunge into his "
statement, when the officer halted him.

“1 must have pen and paper to take down
what you say.” , ‘

He Would not hear another word until these
had been brought; and. in the interval, kept
Stetson in nervous waiting, the outlaw not yet
having been offered a chair.

“Now sit down there and let me hear your
story l” dipping his pen in the inkstand and hold-
ing it poised. “Your name first, pleases I r .  .
have forgotten it. And don’t plunge on so fast  . ; x ,;
that I can’t get down my notes!” ' x ‘ -

Even when kindest, the little man seemed so
stern and severe that the big outlaw sunk into ,
the chair, abashed, and did not venture to l
speak again until he had been once more com-
manded. ‘

SloMy, and with many belts, to give Tom- .
linson a chance to keep up with him, Stetson teld : " ‘3“
why he had come there, and what he desired
done—layin special stress on his wish to
secure a par on for himself and companions for
this betrayal of Maverick Bill.

“ I don’t see that we can do anything in this
matter for a week, at least,” the cfflc‘br stated, ,
looking up when he had made. his last memo- ‘z . g
randum. “The troopers are pretty badly '
scattered.” ‘

“A week?” Stetson inquired, incredulously. ,_ I
“Might as well not move at all, if we wait that = ' I ,‘ '
long. Maverick Bill could git a thousand miles 
from hyer by that time.” _ ' i i

t‘ W ho is'the commandant of this post?” . r

Stetson flushed under the reprimand and the 7 1
keen glance given him. ' .g‘ 1: .

“ I don’t mean ter criticise! But hang it all, i 4
colonel! if we have to lay around here that lon , _ - ,
Maverick Bill will be ‘most shore toslipthroug ’ ‘
our fingers! v  , '»

“ You particularly wish to catch him—aside .
from your desire to earn a pardon?” with an- » - 
other sharp glance. ‘

“I’d like to kill him!” Stetson gritted. “He
hain’t served me right. colonel, and that’s a
fact! That’s mainly IWhyI come td you. I'd i
like to have a pardon. of course; but. III has
heap sight, better pleased when Maverick’s 9118 .
in the dumbes. Of the angers, thnnlI will be -  1
when I git ther paper sayin’ 1 can go free.” . .

“ It will not be a pardo ” the colonel omcious-
l corrected. “ Not apar‘ 09, “Pic”? Speaking. ',‘
It will be more like an a reement not to prose- '
cute you in considerat on of your estimable
services. ' , \ : ,
Stetson felt that there was something akin to ' ‘ ' . . r‘
irony in this conclusion, and flushed a little; but 7

he made no reply. He bud no care for what the
colonel might think of him, so long

‘4

as his par; V I ..

pose was accomplished. v But this probable delay ,: ’ "1'

of a week before hnytbin could be done, im-
measurably galled him. e feared the de y
meant the total failure of the expediliton against
Prairie Gibraltar. Hovvever, he could not
hasten matters by peevish complaininga or arm a ,
was a penis. ‘ v I _ ' ' _ .,
He ad alread told the officer that Philip Sid- '.
ney was probah y held a prisoner‘ by Maverick, -
and he thought it might be wise to recur to this.
“ The oung fellow that I told you about, who ,
was gob led by Maverick’s men, may be killed it ’1 i .2
we have to wait a week before movm’.” _ -. I
180 far as be was concerned. he cared nothing _. >
for the life or safety of Phil Sidney, but hoped a ,3 , ; i, _
reference to the young men might have a hasten- _ g”
ing influence on the slow-moving colonel. ‘ I z. , "' ‘

C‘-

  

   

  j.
a
l
l

/‘ 
I.

. 2
iii?!

[-1 ‘

T)

4‘.'.

 to him.

Lone Hand Joe.

 

 

The colonel quietly put away his papers before
rep] ing.

‘ shall send couriers to hurry the troopers
in,” he promised, “ and just as soon as enough of
“them have arrived to’ make an advance seem
:safe, I will give my orders to that effect.”

This was as much as Stetson could hope for;
and, thanking Tomlinson profusely, be deemed
it discreet to withdraw.

CHAPTER XI.
AN UNCANNY SIGHT.

 

“A PLAGUE on the sogersl” Old Lone Hand.

grumbled as he continued on his way toward
Sidney’s ’Ranch. “ They ain’t no good. The
main ’int is to git Phil out 0’ the hands 0’ the
pack 0 wolves up at Prairie Gibraltar, an’ sogers
Wouldn’t be wu’th shucks fer that. If they done
anything—which I’m doubtin’—they’d light in
on the cattle~thievvs, and there’d be a fight, mi’
likely the young chap ’u’d be killed. That ’u’d be
the outcome uv it; an’ I don’t want nothin’ like
that to he pen. I’d rather, a good deal, trust to
myself) his is a case in which one’s comp’ny,
au’ more’s a great big crowdl I ’low the bom-
mittle’e 0’ One is enough to tackle this hyer busi-
uses

In spite of the fact that he had scarcely dared
hope to find Sidney at the Good Cheer Ranch, he
was noticeably disappomted on approachin ‘ it
to see that it was still silent and deserted. one
of the cowboys had returned, a thing utterly in.
comprehensible to the old man. .

He vented his-spleen by denominating'them a
set of recreant renegades, and, havmg won the
place a thorough examination, turned. is tired
horse into the corral, determined to give it and
himself a long-needed rest. . I

He gave, the animal asupply of grain, and

, then went into the ranch- house. He found plenty

to eat in the pantry; and when he had satisfied
his cravings in that line, he rolled into one of the
cots for a few winks of sleep.

It was almost sundown when he awoke. and
darkness was settling ovor the face of the earth
when he turned once more toward Prairie Gib-
raltar.

The continued absence of the cowboys irritat-
ed him, but his ravings could not bring them
back, Mr explain the cause of their remaining
away; and so he tried to divest his mind of all
thoughts on the subject and to concentrate it on
the work that lay dhead. , ' . ‘

Much as he hated Ben Stetson, he was thank-
ful for the information that indiVidual Whad'given
him. If Stetson had not_lied, Philip Sidney was
very probably again behind the walls of Prairie
Gibraltar; and if Sidney Were there, Old Joe re-
solved to rescue him. .

He purposely made his approach on the outlaw
stronghold after nightfall to prevent all chance
of discovery. The sentinels would be more alert

' and keener of eye than ever, and Old Joe could

aflord to take no risks. . .

The prairie was mantled in deepest gloom, as
he drew near the place. As on his previous vis-
' he picketed his horse some distance 11

it I a? the
va lay, and made his way toward the rocky ails} -'

on foot. Everything about the masuive pile was
silent. The uncsasing wind whistled through the
grass and waved the tops of the willows and the
few stunted trees.‘

Connetty moved With extreme caution, as he
made his way toward the corral. He was great-

, ly surprised when he found it empty. The ab-

.sence of the horses appeared to indicate that the
outlaws had taken their departum_
Axheav y fear settled on the heart of the old

borderman. Where bad “Risen.” Had they
taken Sidney with them? as the young man
yet alive? r

r. . These were the questions that distressed him.

“ If harm’s COllle to that boy, I’ll bunt
Maverick Bill to the eends o the earth!” and he
set his teeth hard, as he made this threat,

He‘felt toward Phil Sidney almost as if the
latter were his owu’son. He could hardly have
10nd him more if such had been the case. They
had l~ mg been intimate, and there was Something
in Sianey’s character that appealed inflistibly
In this time of trouble he forgot
Sidney's faulte‘and weaknesses—forgot the young

" man's headstrong. eediessness, and the capricious -
’ ~impulses that fr neutly controlled him.

I:
' “,‘ Maverick Bil ll wish he’d never set eyes on

; that, y!” again peering into the gleam corral

t0 hicks sure be b not Overlooked the arses.

' 39 "Is dependinskmore on car than on eye in
this'investigationy Bowing that if my how”
were there, they must sin-sly betray their pre-

"  “Why sounds. '

From the corral .Old Lone YHand crawled
. lthlly‘toward thewalls of as." stron hold it
H _V 1 Afters long intervahln which is keen

ll.

 
  

    

. The. thought

 

    

hearing was given full play without anything
being discovered by it, he climbed over the
corral inclosure and moved toward the opening
which he knew to be there.

He recalled the other opening to which he had
been piloted by Irene Romero, but that was at
the other side of the stronghold and could not
easily be visited until later.

If the present silence was maintained, going
to show that the place was vacated, he pur sed
to make his way into the interior. He we 1 un-
derstood the dangers that might attend such an
attempt. The silence might not indicate a de-
sertion of the place, but rather the fact that his
approach had been discovered and a trap set for

m.

“ I can’t afford to let Mavorick set his claws
on me, now,” he whispered, as he thought of
this. “ If he should, somebody’d hev to help
me, ’stead 0’ me bein’ able to help the boy.”

It was this consideration that made him so
careful in all his movements. Not a pebble was
suifei'ed to turn beneath his feet; not a rock was
allowed to brush against his clothing; not a
stick was'permitted to crackle under his tread.

As he neared the opening—which he could not
see because of the darkness—he fancied he heard
a light sound. He could not tell from whence
it came, but it caused him to look about.

He beheld a sight that startled him, while at
the same time it almost froze the blood in his
veins. There again was the Spook Steed, glid—
ing ghost-like up the steep wall of the canyon!
He had seen thattbefore, and had there been no
more than that, he could have viewsd it with
comparative equanimity. But, seated on the
back of the horse was Philip Sidney, and on Sid-
nev’s face was an unmistakable look of fear.

oe sunk down, shivering, thrilled through
and through with an indeflnable apprehension.
The horse and its rider had about them an un-
real lock.

The appearance of fear on the young man’s
face made Old Joe groan in spirit; He could
not believe he saw before him a real horse and a
real rider, nor could he account for what he did
see. There was an impression on him that the
singular vision was a portent of evil.

Slowly the horse and horseman slipped up the
wall of rock! There was no word from the rider,
no sound of footfall from the steed.

“It gits mel” the veteran confessed, his eyes
glued to the precipice. “ I reckon, now, that
can’t be Phil’s spirit. It] believad in spirits,
I’d» think ’twas. There’s somethin’ about that
fiery boss that I never could understand. An’
powmit ’pears the [boy has gone into a sim’lar
me.

He scarcer breathed as he gazod at it. Only
at that one point was the rocky wall visible.
On either side lay chasms of darkness. It was
as if the shining coat of the Spook Steed had il-

luminated the Stygian space about it.

Even as Old Joe stared and wondered, the
Spectral Steed and .stranger rider disappeared—:-
vanishing over the top of the bluff, as he had
seen the phantom horse vanish once before: and
“the twain were swallowed up in the darkness,
the lone spy cried aloud in his agony. .

 

CHAPTER XII.
Inn‘xn’s APPEAL. = ,

IT was a full minute before Joe recovered,
even in a measure, from the shock. Then, he
was strangely shaken and nervous.

“ If, that thing comes ag’in, I’ll take a shot
at it!’ he gritted, tremulously drawing out his
revolver.

He had shot at the Specter Horse before, as it
ascended the rocky Wall, and had beheld his bul-
let smash against the granite. He could not ex-

ct a different result to attend a second. eflort.
gleevertheless, be resolved toflre at it; if it ap-
peared again. I I

“I don’t know what to think of that air,”
he dubiously asserted, staring at the place
where the vision had faded. out. “ It beats my
time! An’ to think that Sid wus a-rldin’ uv the
thing i”

That was what puzzled and distressed him.

He began 'to- wish, now, that he had called
out to the shadowy rider, though he could not
make himself believe he would have received a
reply. What he had seen looked like Sid, but
enrol it was not Sid l.

. _‘.‘ I thought the boy wus .playin’ me a
trick, I’d hev a settlement with him the fu’st

time-"1 I r -
The threatenin sentence was not finished.
‘ led him to the fact that he
was searching for the young ranchmau and knew
not where tolook for’him; and again Old Joe
groanedinanguish. v, - , '

9

 

 
   

He started, as a light step sounded beside him,
and a ll ht hand was laid on his shoulder.

It wil be remembered that he was not far
from the opening which led from the corral into
the interior of the stronghold.

Connetty uttered a startled exclamation and
stared upward; and then he saw the dimly out-
lined form of Irene Romero“,

“ W h-what in thunder-”

“ Hush!” she warned, stooping toward him.
“ We must not be heard talking here.” '

“ Wh-where did you come from?”

He could not resist the question.

“ From within the fort of course! Where
else should I come from? I knew you were out
here, and I all ped out to warn you to leave.
You will go, w lyou not, before trouble comes
to on?”

here was something very soothing in her
voice and touch. It brought to him an unusual
quiet and peace. He leaned back passively, de-
siring her'to go on, for he liked to listen to the
music of her tones. ,

“ If I could git you to talk to me all the time,
I don’t think I’d be in a hurry to go,” was his
grave statement.

“ 1 don’t think I ought to talk to you long. It
might bring peril to both of us.” ,

“ You make me think uv my own girl,” he con:
tinued, with uncommon tenderness. “ She
that’s been dead an’ gone these many years. I
used Ito love to' set an’ listen to her by the
hour.

He sighed deeply, as old memories flocked to
him.

“ You will go, will you not?” she urged.

“ Whur’s Phil Sidney?" he abruptly question-

ed.

She drew back as if to'evince surprise.

“ I sup he was with you. Is he not?" .

“ If he was, d’ye think we’d be bangin' round
this bald hornets’ nest? Not by a jugfull It’s
my p’inted opinion that he’s inside of this hyer
Prairie Gibraltar this blessed minute. That’s
why I come h yer, an’ I ain’t a-goin’ to take the
back track tell I know somethin’ about him. If
you’re anxious to hev me leave these premises,
you kin see by that what’ll be the quickest Way
to git Old Lone Hand on the move.’

She laughed, queerly.

“ Did you not see him go up there?" she asked
pointin toward the cliff. “ Follow him and

011i} wil, be safe. If you stay here, you will be

i er !

Old Joe could not fail to note that this was
contradictory of her former statement.

“ Then, you seen that!” he anxiously demand- 1

ed. . ‘

“ I saw Phil Sidney, as you call him, and a
shining horse go over that wall. They must be
far from here, now. You will be wise to follow

' them.” .

It did not strike Joe as being so very strdrge
that. he should thus be conversingmth this girl
at thevqry entrance to her father’s stronghold.
He was accustomed to strap e things, and the
girl had shown him her 3 -will by releasig
him from Maverick’s clutches. That wa‘s on
cieut pr“)! that her intentions were friendly.‘
whatever he .might think of the oddity of her
words. , .- .
“ I ain‘t a-goin’ on no wild-goose chase after '-

hosts.” he doggedly asser “That wasn’t

hil Sidney, if it did look 11 e him.
know what it was, but I know it wasn’t him.
Au’I hev my doubts about the hose. Ahoss
couldn’t climb a cliit like that!”

Again was heard her musical laughter.

“Some horses mi ht. You haven’t seen all
there are in the worl .”

Her voice deepened into seriousness. ' r

“ Will you not got Lot me urge you‘for your
own sake.” , : r I x g

“ Not tell I know more about Phil Sidney.”

“He is not here,” she » evened. “I don’t
know where he is, but he is not here.” ‘

Here was another cbau of front.

“You’re as fickle as. t e wini " was his dry
observation, “ One minute on now all about

him. and the next you don’t now nothin’.   . i ' .5

’most afesrd I can. trust you 2" ~ . ‘
She had now wholly drapped her bantering
manner. ‘ - .
“I know that you came here to ssarchfor '
himo andwhen I saw you out here awhile-J ~

«how diwou happen to he lookin’ for mi"
‘he interru . a i ,
“That can not matter. how you here,and

knew the danger you would get in if you rot .
mained. Iran a great risk in coming to you. 1  
released on before, but should on be taken ' .3‘
now, I m ghtnot be able to do it./ other is not -

in a pleasant temper “$01313.” , ' p , 

“Then he is 

 

 
  
    
  

 

Q

,fafitogoon.

 

go away!

"pretty accurately what this

1 ing‘ him to

10

“Yes, he and two of his man. All the others
have. gone away. But father and those two
could easil, overpower and kill you. I’m afraid
they will do it. too. if they find you here. Oh,
please go away! Go away at once i”

Her pleading was aimost irresistible.

“ But the young man?” Connetty persisted.

“ I will make you,a promise,” she declared. in
a whisper that was 10wer than ever. “ You
must believe it when I make it; and you must
If Philip Sidney does come here—Tit

e should fall into in father’s hands- I will see
that he is not hurt. net that satisfy you?”

“ I’ll go,” Old Joe made answer, feeling his de—
termination oozing from him under her contin-
ued entreaties. “ I’ll go, but I won’t say that
I’ll not come back, should sich a thing seem to
become necessary.”

“Oh. thank you! Thank youl” and her joy
was pronounced and apparent. “I will keep
fiy ,V’VOI‘d. I will see that no harm comes to

in.

She stepped from him as if to emphasize the
need of haste, while Joe reluctantly arose to go.

“ I said I’d come ag’in if I thought I ought
to!" turning on her. “ bat’s what I said.”

She did not reply. but waved him away with
her hand; and Old Joe leaped the corral barrier
to the slope that led down to the river.

CHAPTER XIII.
a wonas’s SURVEILIJANCE.

It was Old Lune Hand’s intention to leave the
place when he sprung over the wall, so strong an
effect did Irene’s entreaties have on him. He
halted, however, i of continuing on down
the slope, and stood for a time in deepest reflec-

tion.
“ That girl witched me,” he declared, as he
made a mental inventmy of her statements.

 

- “ She made me think so much of the girl that I

Rat,”that I plum forgot myself while listenin’ to

r. ,.

Old Joe Connetty’s daughter had been slain by
Indians, some years since and he had never
ceased to mourn for her. Thoughts of her fol-
lowed him by day, and she visited him in his
nightly dreams. She somewhat resembled Irene,
though the resemblance was not close. She was
much younger than irons; and he believed it she
had lived until now, the resemblance would have
been very marked.

He sighed deeply, as he thought of the fair
face and form he was never again to see.

“ I wonder. now, if she could hev been a-fooi-
in’ me?” his thoughts drifting to Irene. “ I don’t
know why she’d want to do it. A woman has
cur’ons reasons sometimes. though-so ,cur’ous
that I often think they don’t understand them
themselves.”

He was growing dissatisfied with Irene’s con-
duct and with his promise to leave the place.

He could not rid himself, either. of the vision he:

had seen on the wall of the precipice.

If be abandoned his search at that point,
whither should he go? The words of Ben Stet-
son had made him think Sidney was a prisoner
in the power of Maverick Bil. The last time
Stetson saw Sidney. the latter was engaged in a
conflict with Maverick, and Mayerick’s men
were within and all about the house. From this
it seemed plain that Sidney had been killed or
taken captive by them. '

Connetty had argued all this out long before.-

but he now went over it again, in his desire to
determine the best course to pursue.

If he left there. Whither should he gol He
could not answer the question. Neither could he
remain in idleness.

“ I jist ain’t a-goin’i” he savagely declared,
facing about.

The suspicion had come strongly _upon him
that for some unknown reamn the girl had de-
ceived him. '

“ I’m a-goin’ to seeythe inside 0’ this! Prairie
Gibraltar, if they ’s any way 0’ doin’ it.”

With this he walked again toward the corral.

Irene Romero was not a dozen feet from him
when he made this change of front. although
Old Joe never dreamed of such a thing. With
steps as li ht as thistledown she had followed

1m to ma e sure he meant to obey. She had
feared he would not. i -

With what lon ng anxiety she had watched
him. as he in the gloom. debating with
himself. She could see only the dimniest outlin
of his form, and could hear now and then on]
“indistinguishable muttering; but she guessed
delay meant, and
was in a fever of nervous dread lest he should

rent she. had great cause for wish-
. an: the place;-and when she knew
he did not intend to, she grew y angry.

It map

  

 

 

Lone Hand J 06.

She followed him again, as he moved toward
the corral. and was only a few yards distant
when he once more climbed the rock barrier.

“ H e is not going to leave i” and s e sunk her
nails into her palms, at the thougllit. “ He must
not go inside! He must not! 0 , what shall I
do? What shall I do?”

She crept close tn the wallof the corral and
peered after him. She could not See him, but
she could hear his light footsteps. Apparently
he was making a survey of the corral instead of
going t0ward the opening. .

This was what Old Lone Hand was doing!
He meant to approach the opening by and by,
but did not desire to leave any unexplored
places behind him. He had already gone over
most of the corral, but he wished to examine it
again. He had no knowledge nor thought of the
girl’s survoillance.

He had scarcely commenced his search. when
there was another startling occurrence. Almost

. without warning, the Specter Steed seemed to

rise out of the ground at the further end of the
incl0surci It was rideriess. now, but some one
was leading it: and when it drew nearer to him.
he saw that this someone was Irene Romerol
Then he knew that the horse had been in hiding,
and that she had b ought it forth for some cause
yet to be ascertained.

He was almost angry when he recognized her,
which he did not do until she was very close;
but this anger was overmastered by the fear
with which he viewed the animal.

Irene came straight toward Old Joe. as if
knowing he was there; and tha‘t she did know it
was quickly made plain to him.

He started to leap backward in the direction
of 1316 wall, when she stopped him with v a
we .

“I’ve come to ask you to go again,” drag.
ging the strange horse forward by its bridle.
“ I want you to go, and I want you to take this
home.” ..

“ I won’t do it. little one!” and Old Joe fairly
shivered as he vociferated this.

“ There’s no harm about it,” she said. “ Seel”
stroking its neck gently.

“ I don’t want nothin’ to do with itl” Old Joe
asserted, again, backing away. “A boss that
looks that way, an’ kin climb clifts, an’ carry on
as I’ve seen that critter do, would be shoreto
kill me before I’d rid it a mile. No; I hain’t
a-hankerin’i I’ve gotta go“! enough hoss fer
me back in the river Willers!”

“But I want you to ride this,” she urged. in
her coaxing way. “ It, won’t hurt you. You
can come up and examine it, and see that it’s
nothing but a horse.”

Old Joe stared at the beast, but positively re-
fused to budge. .

“ Come and examine it. Put your hand on it,
and see if it isn’t just as I tell you.”

Its coat was covered With that singular phas-
phorescent glow which had sopuzzled the old
man! '

“Why do you want me to ride that thing?”
was his earnest query. . .

He was wondering if there was not some trick
in this request—some diabolical invention to in-
jure or slay him. . .

"I will tell you,” leaning forward and whis-
pering the words. “ If this horse is one, father
cannot use it any more for his evi purposes.
and that may bring an end to his cattle-raiding.
Will you not take it, please? Take it, and never
let it be brought back here l”

Connetty stoutly shook his head.

“Little one. I wouldn’t straddle that boss fer
worlds! Besides, I’m not anxious toleave my
present stampin’-ground.”

“ Philip Sidney rode it.” she coaxed. ~

This was news to Joe, and brought afresh to
his mind the glimpse he had of the phantom
horse while journeying toward Good Cheer
Ranch. -

“ When was that?” he asked. ~

“The night he escaped, and the night I re-
leased you. ’ .

“ That accounts for the present mix-up,” was
his firm declaration. “Phil Sidney rode away
that boss, an’ whur is he now? ,If I wus called
on to believe my eyes, I’d say he wusa spirit,
an’ that I’d seen him this very night. No;
thanka I’d rather trust to Shanks’s ponies fer
the rest 0’ my nateral born days!”

“Is be your boy, that you think so much of
him?” bending on him an earnest look. .

“Not bone 0’ my bone an’ flesh o’ my flesh,
little one; but I couldn’t think more uv_ him if
he wuz‘., Thinkin’ so much uv him is what
brought me hyer to-nlght, ap’ the same thing’s
what made me break my promise to you... I’ve
set out to and him. an’ I’m a-goin’ to do it if he’s

on top in ground.”

   

 

He fancied she shivered a little, as she caught
them strongly-worded sentences.

“Please take the horse and leave!” she whis—
pered again. “ Every moment you stay here
you’re in the greatest dangeri I’m hOnest in
telling you that; I really am. Won’t you take
the horse and go?”

He felt the spell of her pleading tones, but
nevertheless clung to his determination.

“ I can’t go,” he asserted, almost fiercely, “ tell
I know what’s become 0’ the boy. I won’t go!
If you know anything about him, tell me uv it.”

What answer she would have made may never
be known. There was a rush of men from the
interior leading into the stronghold, and before
Old Connetty could defend himself or fly, he
found that such efforts would be useless. Still,
it was not in his nature to be taken without a
struggle. He could not see who the men were,
nor their number, but supposed them to be Mav-
erick Bill and the two outlaws who, Irene stated,
were in the stronghold.

He struck out viciously as they rushed upon
him. and succeeded in fel ing one to the ground;
but before he could do more, he was seized by
the others and his arms pinioned.

When he had time to look about him again, he
saw the phantom horse standing near, but Irene
was nowhere visible. Doubtless when the onset
was made she had hurried to her apartment to
escape the anger of her father.

“You’ve got me a ’inl” the veterangritted,
facing the leader wit aresolute front. “ And
now that you’ve got me, I reckon you’ll keep yer
grippers on me better’n you did before.”

The words seemed to anger Maverick Bill.

“You’ll not git away again,” he threatened,
“ an’ you wouldn’t have got away then if it had--
n’t been for that wild girl of mine. I’m afraid
I’ll have to put handcuffs on her. if I expect to hold
you, for on an’ Phil Sidney do have sich winnin’
ways. 'omen ’pearto fall in love with both of
you at sight.”

There was a sardonic grimness about this that
made it far from pleasant.

Old Joe did not fail to observe that in Maver-
ick’s words there was a suggestion that Philip
Sidne was a prisoner in the outlaw’s bandit.

“ ev you got Phil Sidney with you?" be
queried, forgetful of his own danger.

“ You’ll find out soon enough whether we have
or not.” I .

This and a kick was the only satisfaction he

ot, as he was pushed toward the opening lead-
fog. into the interior.
be old man was almost wild with disa )point-
ment. He felt sure he should soon see lidney.

 

But alas! he would be a prisoner even as Sidney =

was, and could do nothing to aid him.

CHAPTER XIV.
. 'a LOVE SICK YOUTH.
“WHY Joel You here?” 
This was Philip Sidney’s greeting to the old

 

ranger when the latter was conducted into the »

stronghold. and the two were brought face to
face. The words were filled with pain. ‘
Thus it was revealed to Joe that Irene Romero

had deliberately deceived himl . .

When Philip Sidney vlascaptured b Maver-
ritk Bill’s men at the  Cheer Ranc . he was
reoconveyed to Prairie Gibraltar. Maverick
hesitated to slay the oung man: Sidney’s life
.was in red. The out aw chief may have been
influenced to this by the pleadings with which
Irene had_ overwhelmed him, when one. revi—
one occasion, captives had been taken; here
was no knowmg. however. Other considerations
may have swayed him altogether. . '

Phil Sidney was thankful that his life was
spared. though to be again Mayerick’s prisoner
was not pleasant. But, there was one drop of
sweetness in this cup of Bill. At Prairie Gib“
raltar he would be able tougain see the girl who
had so won on his fancyl He could endure
much for that opportuPIW-

Irene’s duplicity, while it puzzled the old map.
is of easy ex lanation. The key to it lay in her
love for her ather’s young captive She wished
to keep Philip Sidney at Prairie Gibraltar. and
feared she might not be able to do this if she
could not induce Old Joe to abandon his search.
She did not dealre that Sidney should be kept
there continually. but ho ed to escape some time
in his company. and ,wit him forever leave the
place. This should be when she had learned
that her love was reciprocated, and after lie had
promised to make her his wife.

She had dwelt on this so much—had so'set her V

heart on it that shewas angry with Old Joe

for his attempted interfei’ence. Her untaught

nature did not conceive it to be wrong to thus

try to accom lish. her ends. She intensely de~

sired that 91 Joe should leave, and if he could
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be made to go b a falsehood, she saw no harm
in uttering it. 0 many offenses of deeper dye
were daily committed about her, that it is not
to be wondered at she should so lightly regard
this act.

Among Joe’s first questions was one concern-
ing Irene. But he spoke almost at the same
time of the Specter Horse, and of the vision seen
on the canyon wall. I

“I think I can explain about the horse, but I
am just now more anxious to talk about Irene,”
was Sidney’s answer.

The young ranchman’s mind Seemed set wholly
on her, and it gaVe him no pleasure to speak or
think of anything else; and he forthWIth pro-
ceeded to rave over her in a manner that was
not leasant to Old Joe.

“ know she’s purty, an’ has got a voice like a
medder lark," the old nomad confessed, after
listening to one of Sidney’s rapturous outbursts.
“ But purty is as purty does. I don’t like the
way she tried to throw me off the trail to-night.
I can’t believe that that wuz jist a square deal.
She said you wusn’t hyer, when she knowed
better.”

“ You must make allowance for her training,”
Sidney urged.

He had been trying to give some thought to
the reasons which must have actuated her, and
it pleased him to think that a desire to retain
him with her was among her inspiring mpuVes.
It was a flattering fancy. _

“What’s botherin’ me is, how we’re gOi ’ to
git out o’ hyer,” Old Joe observed, endeavor ng
to turn the conversation. .

“ Don’t you think she will help us, as she did
before!” ‘

Old Joe sighed disconsolately.

“ It’s ‘she,’ ‘she,’ all the time! My boy, I’m
afeard you’ve tumbled bead-over-heels in love.
If you hev, you’ll find yourself wadin’ in sorrer
up to yer neck. I’m a-speakin’ by the book, I
am. I’ve had experience in love an matrimony,
’mong myother accOmplishments.”

“ I am in love,” was Sidney’s honest atovval.
“ I’m not ashamed to confess it. I couldn’t
help being, after I’d seen her. Do you know,
old pard, I don’t know whether I want to
leave here or not? If it wasn’t for these bonds,
think I’d like to stay.”

01d 00 turned from him with a groan; and
as he did so, beheld Maverick Bill walking to-
ward them.

There. was a fire burning in the center of
the large apartment, and by its lightIMavei-ick
was via ble.

"‘ You came alone hyer tonight?” he ques-
tioned, looking sternly at the old man.

“ What if I did, an’ what if I didn’t?”

The presence of any of the outlaws always irri-
tated Old J08.

“ It may mean a good deal to you. _ If you
brought any men with you, we might take it
into our heads that the safest th ng so do
would be to put you two out of the way. I
think you was along, though, for no other men
have been seen.” K

Maverick Bill did not desire the death of
these prisoners. - He was bloody-minded enough
on occasion. but he was sufficiently sensible to
realize that deliberate murder of this kind might
make it go hard with him, should he ever be
captured  the authorities. He was sorry Old
Joe and "30,” Never come there. He did
notwish :0 kill them. and yet, the knowledge
they possessed made it unsafe to release them.
That was One 16890" Why he had brought Sid-
ney back from Good. Cheer Ranch,

“ I don’t know W11“ 1’!!! to do with you two,”
gazigg earnestly at them-

“‘ ou might cut off these strings an’ let us
go,” Old Joe suggested. / V

“ An’ have you bring the tl‘Oopers down on-
, could trust you, I
might do it. But I couldn t trust you.»

‘ If we’d promise?” Old JOGfiSked. - “ I’ll tell
you What it is, Maverick.1 list come layer to
git this boy out uv his diflikilty- 11' you’ll let us
g , we'll not say a word about what we’ve seen

0
, at Prairie Gibraltar.”

Maverick Bill shook his head.
/ “I couldn’t do it,” he declared; then turned
and walked away; ‘ ~
~' “I’m ,hfi. wasn’t asking me to do the
Drowning,” Sldmy whispered, as he listened to
the outlaw’s retreating footsteps. “ I don’t
think I’d agree not to  back, as long as he

keeps Irene here.

“You’re a fool!” Old Jbe blurted in momen-
tary. 31;. “I reckon, now, yéu wouldn’t

23;, 89,00 if he’d ’Q-"W" you loose an’ told you

“’le mustn’t ask" 330,31“!!! uestions Joe ”
 a‘ little at his campaign’s 

\

 

 

 

anger. “ I’d go in a minute, if Irene could go
with me; and likely I’d go without her. I don’t
say that I Wouldn’t.”

“ But you thought it jist the same!”

With this thrust Old Joe turned from him and
would say no more.

CHAPTER XV.
STARTLING NEWS.

FROM his brief interView with Old Joe
Connetty and Sidney, Maverick Bill went to the
apartment occu ied by Irene.

A lamp was urning in a rocky niche of her
room, and by its faint light he saw she had been

crym .

“ Vghat’s this about!” he demanded roughly.

He was not always kind to Irene, and this
evening was extremely ill-tempered. He had
seen her talking with Old Joe in the corral, and
had discovered the bridle on the horse she had
brought forth.

“ You have been working against me ag’in!”
when she did not reply to his question. “I
won’t have that, Irene. an’ you’re old enough to
know it.‘ If we’re to git along well together
you mustn’t try to mix in my business. I on ht
to know what’s best for us better than you 0,
an’ I say I won’t have it!”

She turned on him with blazing glance, but
checked the hot words she was about to utter.

“I've been watching you urty close, Irene,
a_n’ I’ve had the men watch 11’ yon. 80’ I don’t
like the way you’ve acted lately. You helped
that young man git away, an’ 1 think you let
Old Lone Hand loose, too. But you can’t play
that trick ag’i'n. If you try it, you’ll be seen.”

There was something very threatening in all
this, the manner being even more threatening
than the words.

“ I don’t intend to let him 0!” she exolaimed.

“ Oh, you don’t! That’s use you know
you can’t. What was you doing out in the
corral? What was you talkin’ to the old ranger
about?” .

She set her‘lips and refused to make answer.

“ I think I know very well. You was plannin’
to smuggle the young man out there. so that the
old tramp cou
That’s the trick you w up to. Irene! An’ I
shouldn’t wonder if you sent for the old chap
for that very purpose.”

Irene smiled bitterly and scornfully. Her
father was hitting wide of the mark.

“ Wasn’t that what you was driving at?”

“I sha’n’t tell you what I was drivin at!”

“You meant to let the young teller case an’
show him the way out there!” I

“ You’re mistaken, father: I didn’t; I didn’t in-
tend to do anything of the kind!”

“ Mebbe you think you can fool me, Irene;
but you can’t. My eyes are toler’ble keen.
You’re in love with that young chap 1”

She ve him a swift, odd look.

“W atifIamf” “

“ It might mean a good man things. For
one thing. it would mean that couldn’t trust
you to be true to me while he’s around. You

 

can see it would mean that.” ,
" But if I don’t want him to go, fatheri What

then!” v
He stared at her in astonishment.

“ I don’t real] wanthim to go!” she avowed.
I don’t think could live if he should go!”
:3“ aPpeared to have no hesitancy in making

thisI OODIESSRE). \

averick ill was evident] punled.

“You don’t want him to {got Do ou think
he won“ “fly with us and join our ad? If
you do. you’rea fool!” ' y

“ No! No! Not that!” putting out her hands
as if to ward away the hideous suggestion. " I
shouldn’t want him to become—a— »

“ A cattle-thief!” sneeringly. '

Her face flamed. , '

“ Oh, I don’t know what I do, want! I don’t
want him to 'leave here, and I don’t want him
to join the band!” _

Maverick Bill got up and strode angrily across
the narrow room.

“It seems to me you’ve got the least sense
Irene, of any woman I ‘ever saw. Why should
you go and fall in love with that puppy? He’s
the of your father’s deadliest enemies. One of
your deadliest enemies. Nothin’ would Please
him better than to be able to destroy all of us.
If that ain’t his wish, why should he an’ that old
pard of his come foolin’ round byeri”

'A sob told ‘him she was crying a sin.

“ What do you want me to do, rune!" facing
her fiercely. “ Shall I let them go an’ bring
agersefievila of ranchmen\ an’ cowboys down on

“ I tell on Idon’ t hi ‘ ”
Mammy“ mt wan .m to go! washer

(1 help him in gitting away..

 

“ I suppose you want me to send for a priest '
an’ have you married to him right away i”

r The mocking tone aroused her to open rebel--
10!). ‘

“ I won’t have you speak to me in that
way!”

She leaped up, and her eyes had as fierce a
light as he had ever beheld there, accustomed as.
he was to her assionate outbursts.

“ I suppose ove makes a fool of avers,r one!”

“ You sha’n’t speak to me that we ! and she
stamped her foot, Wrathfully. “ ’ll scratch
your eyes out, if you do!‘ I’ll—I’ll kill myself!”

He gazed at her bewilderedly.

“ This is a sweet critter!” pursing his lips and
stepping backward to avmd a half-expected
onslaught. “ A. reg’lar lunatic on the subject
of lovel”

A look of hate swept over her face, but she did.
not stir.

“ If you‘ll onl tell me what you want me to
do. Irene!" be p eaded. “ You r’ile me up like
a catamount!”

“Oh, I don’t want you todo anything!” and
she sunk back into her chair wit arevulsion'
of disgust. “ You can’t do anything, and I'
don’t want you to do anything! I don’t want
you to try to do anything! I don’t want you to

other me!" J

“ See hyer, Irene!” settling again into his own
chair. “I think ou an’ me had better have-
a sensible talk ;—i we can.”

“If we can! That’s well put! Idon’t think:
you could talk sensible, father, if you’d try a.
week i”

This did not augur a pacific conclusion to the-
interview.

“ Your interests are my interests, or ought to-
be,” he declared, striving not to notice her rasp-
ing tones. “ I ought to be nearer to you than,
this stranger—this young man you never saw
until a short time ago. ‘ How do you know that.
he cares anything for you? In my opinion,
you’re wastin’ your time thiukin’ about him.”
beSéire had more than cape feared that this might.

ue. . ~

“ You oughtn’t to side with him ag’inst me,”
seeing with pleasure that he was making some
headway. ‘ It ain’t natural, an’ it ain’t right.
If he was in love with you, it might be differ»,
eat; but I’m certain he ain’t!” '

“ Don’t say that!” she implored. “ You’ll kill/
me if you say that!”

“ It s the truth, Irene, and you ought to see it.
How could be, when you’re so much of a stranger
to him! No doubt he’s got a sweetheart some--
where, and he’s worryin at this minute because
he can t git back to her.”

A hot flush leaped into her cheeks, and an
ominous light shone in her eyes. -

“You’ll tempt me to kill him myself, fatherf.
You mustn’t talk to me that way! You don’t
know wha a crazy girl I am sometimes!”

He laug ed disagreeably.

“If you should kill him, I reckon it’d save me‘

the trouble. I ’low that’s what I’ll have to do,
sooner or later. I can’t think it would bexsafev
to let ’em go.”

“ Leave‘me alone! Leave me alone!” the im--
plored. “ I must have time to think!”

She covered her face with her hands, and
cowered in a disconsolate heap. . .

He stared at her for a moment, tugging furi—- .
oualy at his heavy mustache. He can d not un.~
derstand her moods. She seemed a child of the
wind, as fickle and changeable.

“ All right!" he said, and he got u and left '
the room, thinki it best to ldt her dulge in
some serious thong t.

He was aware of a great hurry and bustle. as 4
he stepped into the la rapertment, and it was
soon made known to m that an absent member
of the band had returned, bringing important:

news. _

“ What is it!” Maverick inquired. advancing:
on the new-comer. “ What’s up, new?”

The message .was not of a uieting character.
It was to the effect that Ben tetson had formed
a combination with the troopers at Fort Yucca,
and that the latter were to march at once on
Prairie Gibraltar. . ' i '

“ When did you learn of this!” he asked of the'

messenger. ! . A
ly yisterday evening, an’ I’ve about rid ‘ ' i

H n

my 90m to death gittln’ the nerve to you.” , g
' An’ when were the treepers to move!” , ‘

“ J lst as soon as ‘they could. Last night, if ,  
they could git ready. They thoughtthey couldn’t; '
move at onc’t. but them that wuz away come in
unilxpecqet uB‘l! great th against

name i swore a on -
Stetson for this ‘act of treac cry. - .
" They may-he on the way,‘ now. than!" he in.~ - _ '

 

 

 

 1,.“4 52.1.. .. ._ .. . , wan...“ .u. .‘.,  

Lone Hand J as. '

 

 

 

“That’s what I calc’lated. An’ if they air,
it)? won’t be many hours behind me.”
he information was so important that a coun-
cil was immediately summoned to consider it,
and determine on a line of action. One of two
things must/be done: They must Seek safety in
flight, or prepare to defend Prarie Gibraltar
against a greatly superior force. Heretcfore
they had had little fear of the soldiers at Fort
Yucca; but with Ben Stetson to lead the latter,
and chew them the wa into the stronghold, af-
fairs took acquire a di erent phase.

 

CHAPTER XVI.
a DECLARATION or LOVE.

OLD LONE HAND and Sidney had been separ-
ated, Maverick Bill thinking this would decrease
the chances of their freeing themseIVes. Apart,
they could not aid each other, nor plot for their
release.

Irene Romero was not aware of this when she
.left her apartment some time after the depar-
ture of her father, and stole softly to the point
where she had last seen the prisoners. She was
'in a state of great mental unrest, and a sudden
wish to again see and talk with Sidney had come
over her. As an excuse for.inaking the visit,
she carried a few table delicacies, which had
doubtless been stolen by Mavericks men from
some raided ranch.

She found Plilip Sidney in the old prison
niche, and the borderman gone; and, on in uir-
.ing concerning him, was told how they had n
separated, and the supposed reason.

Sidney was as fully glad to see the girl as she
was to again see him. 'The Outlaws badubeen
gathered for a conference over the startling
news they had just received. Sidney knew that
.a council of some nature was being held, and
was reJoiced that the girl had made her visit at
so organ-tune a time.

‘ “ on are quite well?” was her anxious ques-
tion, offering him the delicacies, as il.’ he were
an invalid. 4 .

Her too evident solicitude emboldened him to
goal: on the subject uppermost in his mind.

e chose to advance to it by de rrees, however.

“Deii’t you think you could elp me again?”
he asked, looking earnestly at her.

He could See she had been crying, and won-
dered if it was about him. A thrill of hope and
,Joy came with the suggestion.

‘fl’m afraid it will be impossible!” setting the
delicacies aside, when she saw he did not mean
to taste any of them. “Father knows that I
released you before, and he will watch to see
that I don’t do it again.”

Her tones told him she had no particular de-
‘ sire he should be hurried'from her.

“I don‘t believe I want to go!" he declared,
boldly taking one of her hands. “ It seems to
me I should prefer to remain here with you.”

He could scarcely discern the heightenhd color
.that came to her cheeks, but he did see the
quick, backward look she gave toward the en-
trance to assure herself no one was n'ear. She
did not draw away her hand, nor seem angry at
what-he had said. .

“ Oh, Irene!” and his clasp tightened. “ I
don’t feel that I could go away from here with-
out on, even if I were freel”

“ hen ou—you—”

“You, do love you, Inner—if that is what
.you were tr ing to say. I don’t know why I
should hays elt so toward a stran er, but I loved
.you when I first saw you, and tseems to me
that I love you more and more every hour! I
can’t go away without you!”

Ills utterance was hurried and eager, and his
:3"? tightened until his fingers left their marks.

‘ I was afraid vou did not leve me,” she whis-
. :pered, drawing closer to him. “ If I had learned

' you did not. it would have killed me!”

He tried to put n his bound hands toclasp
her, but could not. he stooped and ave him a
quick kiss; than drew back as if fea ii] for the
result of her own boldness.

“ I didn’t want you to go until you said that.
{but now I am willing for you to go. I will help
you, and we will go together.” '
" Her tones were passionate and earnest. She
leaped to her feet and hurried toward the en-
rtra nce, Where she took a survey of the the cham-
bers and avenues adjacent. She was leased to
vase that they were all vacant. She rd the
sounds of voices ina room near the corral. and
.‘sgzoached it to learn what was in progress

it she knew what was going on, she smiled;

. ‘ and than tip-med back to where she had left Sid-

vn . . . i
“ 'q’I will release on, now, in a very short
prom , bonding down and giving
another “I ‘ haven’t any knife with

 

 

me, or I would cut our bonds this moment.
But I will get one. F rst, though, I think I had
better make arrangements for our flight.
ought to get some horses ready, and attend to
some other things.

“ Oh, my love! You don’t know how it hurts
me to see those cords on you! But I’m afraid it
is best for you to remain so a little while—until
my preparations are made. It would prevent
suspicion should my father or any of the men
come near here.”

He was unable to clasp her, though he desired
to do so; and seeing this, she threw- her arms
about his neck and sobbed hysterically. A wild,
untrained child of the prairie, she gave way to
her full dam of feeling, without any endeavor to
stifle or hold it in check.

“NoW, I must go," she whispered, drawing
away and rising to her feet. “ A minute’s delay
may spoil all. Father and his men are holding
a council, but it’s likely to end at any time.”

“One thing,” said Sidney, his mind reverting
to Old Joe, whom in his great ecstasy he had al-
niOst forgotten, “ Old Joe must go with us. I
can’t leave him. I should never be able to for-
give myself if I did. You can arrange for him
to go along?”

She hesitated.

“ He must go, you say?”

“He must go with us!“ was his firm declara-
tion.

“ It may bother me to fix it, but I think I can.
I want him to go, too, for he has been kind to
me; and he seems to bee nice old man. He is
not your father?"

Sidney replied in the negative with a laugh.

“ Good-by, then, for a little while i” turning to
trip lightly away.

As she faced toward the entrance, she stopped,
petrified. Her father was there, having just
made his appearance.

He saw the excited look in her face, and her
glance of despair. I '

“ You little minx, what air you up to, now?"
he demanded.

She could not reply on the instant, so great
was her disappointment, and he accepted this as
an acknowledgment of guilty intentions.

“ You were goin’ to release him!” striding
wrathfully forward. “I’m thinkin’ it’s a good
thing I come jist when I did!” l

The council had not reached a conclusion. yet,
but Maverick had been led to make this untimely
visit because of his well-grounded fears of his
daughter’s treachery.

S is ihrew‘up her hands as if to ward oil? a
blow, and cowered for a momsnt; then she drew
herself defiantly erect.

“ What wore you two plotting to do?" recoil-
ing a little before her fierce look. “ What was
you talkin’ about?" i V

“This,” she said, in a tone that had a deadly
steadiness about it. “This young man. Philip
Sidney, has told me that he loves me, and I in-
tend to marry him!” _ _ ,

“ Oh, is that it? A nice time, an' a nice place,
for billin‘ an’ cooin’.= I don’t think you’ll want
to marry him, after he’s been made into a cold
corpus! ' ,

“ What do (you mean by that?” was her
startled deman .

f‘Oh, nothin’!” evading her glance. “It
strikes me, though, that you might find some-
thin’ better to do than to be makin’ up this way
to a teller that’d be tickled to death to see me
hung. I always thought a girl’s first love
belonged to her father. I guess I was mis-
taken.”

“ You were not mistaken!” advancing impul-

sively tode him. “ You have had my love for»

these many ears. You will not forbid that I
shouldvlove im now!” ,

He shook ofl‘ her touch.

“ A nice way to show your love for me to turn
against me a the very first chance! I hardly
thought it of you, Irene. You haven’t confessed
that you meant to let the feller go. You needn’t
confess it. I know you did.” ’

He looked beyond her to where Phil Sidney
la and his glance was threatening. -

his sudden interruption of his dream of bliss
WI! I terrible blow to Sidney. He was writh-
ing’snd struggling against the cords that held
him, wildly anxiout to fly at the throat of Mav-
erick Bill. ' '

The outlaw chief realized something of this,

and chuckled in a pleased wa .

“When you succeed in leltln’ that fuller go,
come an’ let me know about it!" turning sharp-
lyou Irene. “ It will not be in a hurry, I’m
tbinkln’!” ' ' ' '

“I did intend to lethim cl” she exclaimed

with savage bitterness. “f trike me for it, if
you’want'tol” ‘ ' _‘ , ’

tam ted to do what she said.

“ ahl You‘re crazy, Irene. Crazy as a
lunatic! If it wasn’t for that, I might strike
you. You’d have let him go, w0uld you? And
I reckon you’d have tried to go with him.”

“I should,” she confessed, with impressive
emphasis.

“ I thought as much, when you talked to me
last. That’s why I didn’t care to leave you alone
very long. Well, you’ll not go with him; nor
let him go! I’ll see to that!"

He stepped aside and pointed sternly toward
the entrance.

“ You march along there, without provokin’
me further. I’ve got enough to think about jist
now, without havin’ to worry over you. You’ll
go right back to your room. and you’ll stay
there; for I’ll seta guard there to see that you
do. If thatdon’t answer, I’ll tie you up!”

There were no indications of relenting in his
words, and Phil Sidney saw that the last chance
of escape was gone. The girl could not aid him,
DOW. much as she desired to.

“02), father!” Irene moaned, gaspingly; but
she knew it was not safe to refuse to obey, and
went sobbing in the direction pointed out.

Maverick Bill lingered a moment; then hurled
this threat at Sidney:

“ I don’t think you’ll git to see her ag’in,
my brave young rooster! If the men don’t
change their minds on the subject, it‘s my idea
that you’re about to the end of your rope l’_’ p .

CHAPTER XVII.
UNPLEASANT KNOWLEDGE.

OLD LONE HAND had been placed in a small
room nearer the corral, and he had not been
there many minutes when he discovered that
there was a horse in a narrow, stall-like place
adjoining the little pocket-like apartment which
he himself occupied. .

He twisted about to get a view of the horse-
stall, and. was astonished and somewhat terri.
god wxhen he discovered that it held the phantom

orse

His attention was drawn from it by the
sounds of voices coming from a point some dis-
tance away. He fancied he recognized the deep
notes of Maverick Bill, and became anxious
to know what was being said. It might con-
cern himself and Sidney, and be of great impor-
tance. v

There seemed to be an open passage leading in
the direction of the sounils,and he began to
roll slowly that way, every revolution of his
body bringing him nearer and nearer to the
speakers. This took him! further ‘ from the
phantom horse, also, a thing he by all means
desired.

He brought up finally against a wall, and
heard the voices just beyond it. He could
readily recognize them, now and couldmnder-
stand what was being said. He was against the
wall of the council room occupied by Maverick
and his men. , I ‘

What he heard was of aotartling character.
It revealed to him that Ber. Stetson was sup-
posed to be le'adm
against Prairie Gi raliar.
estimate Old Joe laced upon the soldiers, he
was not sorry to hear this news. ' ,

But he heard something else that was nqtso
pleasant» He found that the council had decided
to stand by the stronghold and defend it to the
last; and that to make themselves secure from
any treachery from within, they had resolved
to sacrifice the lives of Old J 0e and Sidney. The

the troopers.

This decision had been hastened by Maverick
Bill’ discovery of the duplicity of his daughter.
Reference was made to this. but in such a way
that the old borderman- was not able tocom-
prehend it. x I '

“ I’ll hev togit out 9’ this in some way,” he
thfiugbt, as he glued his ear to the rocky wall.
“Old Jae don’t intend to’l,iw himself en’pard
to be shot down like a couple or dogs if he kin
hell? it. Not by a jugful!” -

e realized the preciousness of the fleeting
minutes, and immediately began to tug an
,strain at the cords On his wrists. He had tried
them before, but now his desperation lent him
increased strength and determination.

“I’m just bound to git away!” Wanted,
stopping for a moment because of pain.
" 1 jist must git cut uv these things!” v
' Then be renewed the contest. ,

He was paying no, heed to the Voices, now,
nor to the hsntom horse, whose ammo out
he could stil dimly see. He was =tbinkin of
blame” and Sidney and the great peril y

 

’ were in. Whether they "M to live “Idler

He raised his hand as if for a moment he was i

the tree are of Fort Yucca \
u spite of the low

prisoners were to be shot before .the coming of ‘

u 4

 

 

   
   
    

. Lone Hand Joe.

 

 

seemed to depend wholly on his present succes
or failure.

A low cry escaped him, as he felt the tense
cords give slightly, unable to longer withstand
the tremendous force be was exerting. He
surged at them again and again, until the veins
on his arms stood out in knots. Drops of sweat
were on his forehead, while he writhed as if in
the agony of a great pain. The cords cut cruelly
into his flesh, but of this he seemed insensible.

Finally one of the strands parted, this bring-
ing about a looscning of all the cords on his
wrists, Tears welled to his eyes as he lay back,
almost exhausted, yet realizing he would soon be
free. Free to help himself and Sidney!

He hearkened for a moment to the words that
were still proceeding from the council-chamber.
He cared little what was being said, now, being
only desirous to know that the men were still
there.

He sat up and removed the bonds from his
aching arms, then tried to untie those that held
his feet. The knots were drawn tight, and his
fingers were so numb he could not do this; but
he got hold of a jagged piece of granite, and by
a diligent sawing with its roughened edge, at
length cut through the thongs.

His limbs and body felt wofully cramped, but
in spite of this, he staggered to his feet and
began to grape his way toward the apartment
where he had last seen the young ranchman.

He was not aware that a guard had been
placed over the room occupied by the girl. Had
he kn0wn this, he w0uld have taken greater
precautions. The guard selected by Maverick
for this purpose was the me8°enger who had
come in so short a time before, and he was so
tired and sleepy that he was half-dozing at his
post of duty. n his ignorance of the guard’s
presence, and in the darkness, Old Lone Hand
stumbled heavily against this man.

He instinctively leaped back as he did so,
filled with a foreboding of trouble. The kick
which Joe had given him brought to the guard
a rude awakening. He sprung up in blind
haste, and when Lone Hand turnedtorun, he
lugged out his revolver and fired wildly deivn
the passage, well knowing that this was not a
member of the band.

The shot and the guard’s calls brought Mave-
rick Bill and his comrades tumbling out of the
council-chamber, and these quickly filled the
space which the borderman would have been
compelled to pass over to reach Sidney. Being
between him and the fire, that burned low in the
large room, he could see them, though they
could not see him. He realized that it would be
suicidal to try to pass them.

“ This is awful!” he moaned, as be halted a
moment, in bewilderment. “ They’ll do up the
boy, shore!”

Like a flash came a thought of the soldiers
who were presumed to be at that moment
marching on Prairie Gibraltar. Of himself, he
could do nothing; but he might reach these
troopers and hurry them to the rescue, before it
Was too late.

To do this he must have a horse, and he knew
of none but the one he so dreaded. The Specter
Steed was still standing in its stall, where he
had last seen it. Would he dare to make use of
it?

He was almost frenzied.

“ I reckon I’ll bay to!” he declared. “ There
don’t Seem to  any other chance. The thing
can’t more’n kill7 me, an’ I’ll be killed if I stay
hyer; an’ if I don t 80, Sid’ll be killed, tool”

He was not leen "web time for reflection or
debate. MaVGI‘le and the outlaws were ad-
vancing along the Passage in his direction.
From Maverick's loud Commands he knew that
a man was being sent to the corral to cut him
off. He must act at once, if at all.

The excitement he'd drlven from his mind
all thought of the pain and Cramps Which bad
lately troubled him. He turned toward the
phantom horse and ran on With the nimbleness
of youth. The shouts of the outlaws behind
him acted as a spur.

He did not stop to search fora bridle, but
deftly loosened the rope halter With which the
animal was tied; and then hurried with it
through the contracted avenue leading to the
corral. .

He was only a moment or two in gaining
the opening, 89d as soon as he saw the star-
light above him and the horse, he'leaped on
the horse’s back, dug his heels into its flanks,
and by a pressure of his knees guided it toward
the corral gateway which he had that night seen

Opel].
As he did thil. 8 strange thing happened.
As the horse Sprung forward in obedience to
the urgent kicks, the Singular glow faded from

 

its coat, causing Old Joe to utter an exclama-
tion of alarm. His fears were so aroused by
this phenomenon that he was tempted to slide
from its back and trust to his heels. He might
have done so, had not the calls of MaVerick’s
men sounded so perilously near. There was
one thing he could not gainsay: Whether he
was astride of ahorse or the spirit of a horse, it
was hearing him by marvelous leaps from the
presence of his enemies.

Although Old Joe did not think of it at the
time, it was a fortunate thing for him that the
queer light faded just when it did. Uthei‘Wise,
he would havo become the target of well-direct-
ed bullets. With the disappearance of the glow,
the outlaws had nothing with which to guide
them in their aiming.

Old Joe and his odd steed dashed through the
opening in the corral barrier and sped straight
toward the prairie. Pistol-shots still rung out,
though none of the balls had come near him. He
could tell by the sounds of the men’s voices that
they were hurrying out some animals which
they had kept somewhere hidden, thus showing
that they meant to pursue him.

“Ketch me if you kin!" was his grim com-
ment, scarcely uttered above a whisper. “ This
nag l’mia-ridin’ is a bummer, an’so long as it
don’t shine up like a lamp, I don’t feel so much
afeard—”

The sentence was brought to an abrupt con-
cluswn. The hosphorescent glow camea ain,
zeducing the o d borderman to a state of a ject

error.

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
A TIME FOR HASTE.

THE yell that arose behind him told him that
the horse was seen by the outlaws. They would
be able to follow it by the light, thus increasing
the danger of recapture.

The horse galloped steadily forward in an
easy, tireless manner, that went to prove its
mettle and endurance. In spite of his fears, Old
Lone Hand could not but, be pleased with the
way the Specter Steed was leaving his foes.

The play of the firm muscles on the shoulders,
which he could rendil feel with his extended
knees, the obedience with which it responded to
this guiding, the steady sound of the hoof-falls,
all tended to dispel the idea that the horse was a
supernatural creature; and as the minutes pass-
ed without bringing any other mysterious mani-
festation, Old Joe again took courage.

“Flyin’ steeds o’ the Arabians! I guess I’ve
been a fool all along. I’vo always been taught
never to look a gift horse in the mouth; an’
hyer I’ve been examinin’ every tooth o’ this’n,
as it were, tryin’ to make out it’s no good—an
it a-doin’ its level best fer me without money an’
without price! It’s got queer-lookin’ hair, but
that oughtn’t to count ag’in’ it so long as it does
what it kin to save Sidney an’ me.”

It was soon evident that the phantom horse
was fleeter of foot than any of those ridden by
the outlaws, for the thunder of the pursuit grew
steadily fainter and fainter.

“ Good hoes! Good boss!” giving the shining
coat a series of loving pats. “ Party is as purt
does; and, accordin’ to that, you’re the ban -
somest. crceter above ground. I’ll take back
eYer'thmg I’ve said ag’in’ ye. I’ll adopt the sen-
timpnts o’ the feller’s toast to the women: ‘I
cannt understand ye; but God bless yel I love

e

The horse comprehended the kindly tone and
action. it it did not comprehend the words, and
seemed to gather new vigor from them.

Old Joe’s thoughts were almost constantly on
Phil Sidney; and, when he could no more hear
his enemies, he changed his direction for a cross-
ing of the riVer where he knew the troopers
must pass on their way to Prairie Gibraltar.
It was a time for haste. EVery moment was of
the utmost importance, and he began to realize
more and more h0w fortunate a thing it was
that he was mounted on so fleet and spirited a
steed.

He could not divest himself of the feeling that
what he was doing seemed like a Lase abandon-
ment of the young ranchman. Had he believed
there was any chance whatever to aid Phil Sid-
ney by an immediate return to the robber home,
he would not have hesitated a moment to retrace
his way. But he knew that, amused as the
outlaws were, he could do nothing, single~hand-
ed. To go back would be only to place himself
againjn their clutches. It was an emergency
in which the Committee of One must seek other

he] .

Ego would not allow himselfto dwell on Phil’s
present peril, nor on the fact that the young
ranchman’s death had been decreed. Of course.
he could not keep all thought of this out of his

 

mind; but he tried to look forward to a
with the troopers, and a hurried march
relief.

Untiring as the phantom steed seeme
it began to show some signs of exhaust
fore the river crossing was reached.

The old borderman drew it down into a sl
gait, and carefully noted its labored breathi

“ It’s a dead shore thing that this ain’t
spirit hossl” he solilcquized. “ I reckon, now, '
spirit hoss would never git tired at all; and i
safe to bet that one uv um wouldn’t hev lungs
to thuin like that.”

He fe. t of its moist, steaming coat, which
shone on, in spite of the perspiration that bathed.

  
  
    
    
  
 
 
   
 
   
  
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
 
    
    
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
    
    
  
    
 
  
    
    
  
  
    
 
   
   
   
  
   
  
    
  

it.

“Reg’lar sweat,” he mused, rubbing his fln-
gers together and pressing them to his nostrils.
“ Reg’lar hoes sweat, too. It do puzzle me,
though I don’t think I’ll be afraid o the thing
an more.”

he night was far advanced when he reached
the crossing; and his coming created quite as
much of a panic as Sidney had occasioned
among his own cowboys some nights before.
The tr00pers had gone into camp on the northern
bank of the stream, and were awaitin the re-
turn of Ben Stetson and a scout who ha depart—
ed some hours previous to spy out the land at.
Prairie Gibraltar.

Neither the troopers nor their commander had-
ever heard of the phantom horse, and when Old:
Joe Was seen moving across the prairie toward
the camp at a good canter, a state of intense ex--
citement supervened. The soldiers tumbled out
as one man to view the singular sight and to
speculate concarning it. But for the rigid disci-
pline under which they were always held, many
of them would have fled, as the phantom horse
came nearer and nearer.

The fussy little colonel, who was in charge of
the eXpedition, always made it a point not to
show the white feather on any occasion; and he-
sent a messenger out to intercept their queer-
looking visitor, and to inquire his business.

" Oh, this boss!" and Old Joe chuckled grimly,
as he was halted, and understood the cause.
“ He’s a sin ular critter, shore; but pard, he’s a
bummer. is hair seems to be a little oflf, but.
he brung me from Prairie Gibraltar quicker’n
any beast I ever straddled. Whatever he may
do, or however he may look, I’ll al’ays put that
down to his credit. Show me the way to yer
boss. I’ve a message that must be delivered in-
stanter.”

A wondering crowd gathered about the horse,
when he had been brought into camp, and many
were the explanations and comments of the men.
He was of a docile disposition and suffered him-
self to be handled and pinched. He was subject-
ed to a most rigid examination; but all that was
learned b it is just what the reader already
knows. is coat seemed like the coat of any
other horse, save that it shone something like
phosphorus. 9

Old Joe was at once conducted before Colonel
Tomlinson and questioned as to his errand; and
in hurried sentences told why he had come, and
expressed the great need of haste.

Tomlinson disliked to do anything out of the
regular routine, and, having sent Ben Stetson
and a scout to make an examination of Prairie
Gibraltar, it seemed to him to be the proper
thin to await their report.

“ 1' ye do, cunnel, it ll bring about the death
uv the boy l” Old Joe protested. “ He may P0
dead already, shot to pieCes by them murderm"
kyotes, though I’ll never believe it tell I’m forced
to. I’m a-takin’ it fer granted that he’s still
alive, an’ that if we move out uv b or on the
jump, we’ll be in time to save him. aylight’ll
come onto you, cunnel, if you wait fer the com-
in’ o’ yer scouts, an’ that’ll sp’ile ever’thing.
With a good light to shoot by, the fellers behind
them rock walls kin hold a rig’ment.”

Colonel Tomlinson was not insensible to the
force of this argument. There was only one
thin that kept him from acceding at once to
Old can request. He did not know Old Joe; a
fact which he stated With rou h bluntness.

“ My good fellow, if I b any way to as~
sure myself that what you say is true I’d move
on Prairie Gibraltar immediately. How can I
tell that you may not be playing me false? How
can I know that you are not one of these cuts
laws yourself, and have come here to draw me
into a trap? If Ben Stetson was here, now, he
could settle it.”

Old Joe was irritated by this, thou h he could'
not fail to recognise the weight 0 the argu-
ment. He knew that such tricks had been
played. .

All he could do was to reassert the upright--
nest of his intentions and the truth of his story,

 
 

 

'12

 

Lone Hand Joe.

 

“The _ _
the mearnestly petition again for an instant

he iment of the troops.

.0“ way,“ trust you i" Tomlinson declared his bet-

aud dnature gaining the ascendancy. “ You will

thingcompelled, though, to keep with the troopers,
flighd I must warn you that no attempt at treach-

,ag9.-y will be tolerated. I should not deviate from

slimy first plans, were it not for the peril you state

Ythis young man to be in.”

3 Tears of gratitude came to the eyes of the old
borderman, at this concession. He cared not
what Tomlinson might think of him for the
present. His honesty would soon be made ap-

arent; and—the thing he most sought—Phil

idney would be saved. He would not for a
moment admit to himSelf that there could be
.an y other outcome.

Almost immediately the bugle sounded—and
the soldiers, gathered about the phantom horse,
staggered backward in dismay! The horse
started at the unaccustomed sound, and the
glow of his coat vanished. Old Joe was a wit«
ness of this, and it convinced him that the cause
of these disappearances was a start or fright re-
ceived by the animal.

The men were given no time to discuss this
marvel. “ Boots and saddles” was the order,
and in a very short time the entire body of men
and horses were under way, heading at a rapid
pace t0ward the rocky stronghold held by Mav-
erick Bill. '

 

CHAPTER XIX.
CONDEMNED TO DIE.

To return to Philip Sidney, still in the power
of his enemies at Prairie Gibraltar. f

He heard the excited cries announcing the
escape of Old Joe, and earnestly prayed that his
friend might elude all pursuit.

For himself, he knew he was in the greatest
peril. He had not learned of the decree of the
council, but Maverick Bill’s ominous threats
made at the time Irene was ordered to her room,
clearly revealed the chief’s hatred toward him.

By careful listening e was able tocatch the
sounds, made by the h ses as they raced of! on
the prairie. It seemed to him that all of the
outlaws must be chasing the old man and there-
fore he thought it a good time for rene to re-
turn to fulfill her promise. He could not believe
she was at that moment a guarded prisoner.

He grew more and more nervous and restless
as the moments slipped by without bringing her.
'The delay told him that somethin of an un-
common nature was detaining her. e believed
in and trusted her implicitly, and would not for
a moment harbor the thought that she might be
false to her professions. .

True love casts out every doubt; and it was
so in this case. He loved her sincerely, and felt
that the reason she did not come to him at once
must be because she could not.

One of the pursuers straggled back after
awhile, and Sidney could hear him talking with
the guard in the passa 3 beyond. He was s ak-
ing of the chase: an his speech reveal that
Maverick Bill and the other outlaw were still
trying to overtake Old Joe; and that their ef-
fort was likely to prove a failure.

This was indeed good news, and was received
thankfully.

The outlaw came into the main apartmont in
a short time, and Sidney called to him, inquir-
ing the meaning of the row, pretending to be
ignorant of his friend’s escape.

The man came forward in answer to the call,
and vouchsafed the information that Old Joe
had managed to wriggle out of his bonds; but
that he was being ursued and would surely be
overhauled in a litt e while.

Sidney knew the fellow lied, for this contra-
dicted the statement made to the guard.

“ I suppose the girl went with her father?”
Sidney questioned, trying thus to learn some-
thing concerning her, and making a great ef-
fort to vail his uneasiness.

The outlaw laughed.

“ It’d please ye, likely, if I’d tell ye she’d run
off with yer pard. But she didn’t go with him,
nor she didn’t go with Maverick. She’s gitting
alittle too tricky of late to be trusted; an' so
the old man shet her up in her' room and fixed
the cage so that the bird couldn’t git away. Ef
you’ve got any love-letters to send to her, it‘ll
tickle me to death to take ’em.”

This was not pleasant news. It increased
Sidney’s misery to know that Irene was really
held a prisoner. He pictured her sitting in the

loom of the rocky pocket which was known as

r room, weeping hysterically; and this picture
did not fall far short of the actual truth.

Iran. was acquainted with her father’s vin-

 

dictiveness; and she felt that the escape of Old
J 0e would in all probability insure the death of
her lover. Yet she could do nothing to avert
this terrible fate. She passed from paroxysms
of despair to moments of ho fulness, and in
these latter intervals she won d plead with the
guard to he let go. Time and again she attempt-
ed to bribe him into compliance with her wishes,
but without avail.

And thus an hour wore away, bringing the
return of Maverick and his associate.

Maverick Bill was in a tempestuous rage, oc-
casioned by Old Joe’s success. He feared the
borderman might intercept the troopers that
were hurrying forward under Ben Stetson, and
thus be able to acquaint them with the small
force now at Prairie Gibraltar. This would be
an unfortunate thing for the outlaws, as it would
increase the confidence of their enemies and
tend to make them more courageous.

He was in a state of great anger, as he threw
himself from his horse in front of the entrance,
and it was his intention to have Philip Sidney
shot without delay. He felt that this would
partially atone for the escape of the other pris-
oner, and would likewise rid his small force of
an encumbrance. It would also prevent all
chance of a similar breaking away.

He was prevented from. carrying this bloody
plan into instant execution by a clatter of boots
outside the corral. A few moments of confusion
ensued; then a yell of delight went up from
Maverick and his few followers, when they knew
that the new-comers were members of the outlaw

band. It was a much needed reinforcement, and-

greatly added to the chances of a successful re-
sistauce.

Maverick Bill welcomed his recruits effusive-
ly; and, when their horses had been concealed
in a series of stall-like niches, he led them into
the council-mom and there explained to them
the nature of the peril threatening Prairie
Gibraltar.

The fact that these men had seen nothing and
heard nothing of the troops gave color to the be-
lief that the danger had been exaggerated.

Maverick Bill’s determination to stand by the
stronghold was received with approval by all
present. No other such safe retreat could be
found anywhere on the plains, and they were
10th to abandon it.

A shout from the guard in the passage, ac-
companied by a wild cry from Irene, brought
the council to an abrupt termination.

When Maverick Bill hurried out to ascertain
the meanin of these sounds, he found that Irene
had defiantfy dashed by.her keeper and rushed
to the oint where Philip Sidney was lying.
Sue ha a knife in her handzand before the
gourd could come up With her, she began sawing
at Sidney’s bonds.

The sight so angered Maverick that he flew at
her like a madman; and, grasping her by the
shoulder, hurled her heavily backward to the
stone floor. So great Was her excitement, how-
ever, that what Would have seemed a serious
fall on any other occasion seemed to injure
her not at all. She sprung up with an inarticu-
late heart-broken cry, and there was in her eyes
a look that was almost of insanity.

“ You ungrateful hussy!” he shrieked, again
advéincing on her, as she arose with uplifted

m e.

It seemed a question for a moment whether
she intended to use it on herself or on him.

“ Stand back!” she commanded. “ Stand
back!”

Instead of heading the words be rushed at
her, and with a blow dashed the knife from
her hand. Then he seized her again and shook
her mercilessly.

The state of Philip Sidney’s mind during this
exciting time can scarcely be imagined. Her
appearance had brought him hope; which was
destined to be dashed ruthlessly to the ground
in an instant. A wild desire to cast off his
bonds and spring tiger-like on Maverick Bill
swelled within him. He writhed and groaned
and strained at his cords like a lashed beast.

“You infernal scoundrel!” he howled, his in-
dignation passing all bounds when he beheld
Maverick strike the hapless girl. “Untie me
for a minute, and I’ll teach you better manners
than to hit a woman. I’ll kill you for that,
Maverick. So help me God, I will!” .

So great was his wrath that all fear for his
own personal safety left him. Had he been free,
he would at that moment have fought all of the
outlaws single-handed.

, “You keep quiet there!" Maverick ordered,
with a savage look. “If you don’t shut your

mouth, I’ll shut it with a bullet. I’m running
this business jist now; and I’ll take pleasure in
attendin’ to you a little later!”

 

Irene was screaming hysterically and assaying
vainly to free herself.

Maverick Bill was a very giant in strength
and he lifted her up with no gentle touch, and
set her heavily on her feet, when she had fallen
a second time from a brutal push given her.

“Now, march out of hyer, my young lady!
March! d’ye hear?”

“I won’t!” she vociferated.
kill him, and I won’t go!”

He drew back his hand as if to strike her in
the face. She dodged the expected blow and
darted toward Sidney; but Maverick’s arm in-
terposed and held her struggling.

“ If you won’t walk out, I’ll carry you out!"
was his harsh declaration. “ This nonsense has
gone fur enough.”

He pushed her bodily toward the larger
apartment, retaining a constant and firm grip
on her arm.

“ I'll settle with this young bound; and then,
my lady, l’ll settle with you!”

“ You’re a coward!” Sidney shouted after
him. “ No one but a coward would treat a lady
that way l”

The taunt stung Maverick Bill to the quick,
and he halted as if strongly tempted to turn
back and end the author of the tantalizing
words then and there. Irene’s screams and
struggles were probably what prevented him
from doing this. He contented himself with giv-
ing Sidney a look of withering hate, and then
pushed the half-frantic girl on before him.

Sidney could hear her moan when he could no
louger see her, and this caused him to make an-
other ineffectual effort to release himself.

Maverick Bill came back in a short time, and
laughed with fiendish glee, as he saw the young
man’s writhings and beheld his look of anguish.

For further security Irene had been bound
this time, a fact he took great pleasure in im-
pressing on his helpless prisoner.

“ You’re a. cowardl” Sidney again boldly
vouchsafed. “A dirty, miserable cur! You
can shoot me; and I have no doubt you will; but
you can’t kee me from saying that l”

Doubtless idney’s extreme an or ke t him
from a full realization of the peri of his posi-
tion. At that moment he appeared not to care
whether he lived or died.

“ You can talk all you want to, my young
game chicken. You’d better put in full time,
too, fer you won’t have many minutes in which
to fling insults.”

Maverick’s men were crowding about him
once more; and to those the outlaw chief gave
his commands.

“Pick the dog up and take him out to the
corral. Tie him there, an’ We’ll shoot him so
{lull "of holes that a coyote wouldn’t look at

1m.

Sidney was immediately seized by the outlaws,
who lifted him and bore him from the place. He
was as helpless as a child in, their hands; but in
spite of this he continued to rave at them, and
especially at Maverick Bill, in a peculiarly ex-
as crating strain.

rene heard him as he was borne along the
passage past her room, and her wailing rose
afresh.

He shouted to her a farewell; and would have
said more, had not one of the men rudely laid a
hand on his mouth.

It required but a short time to gain the cor-
ral; and against an angle of its rocky wall Sid-
ney was placed in an upright posture, and there
secured.

At MaVerick’s command the men drew off;
and then raised their weapons to fire, only
awaiting Maverick’s order to do 80.

But ,the order never came.

Instead. there arose a charging cheer, and a
crash and blaze of firearms from the corral gate.

“ You mean to

 

CHAPTER XX.
DEFEAT or THE rmsvns.

THE tr00pers, urged on by Old Joe, had ar-
rived in the nick of time. ,

Though startled and somewhat panic-stricken
by the suddenness and unexpectedness of this
onset, Maverick Bill and his men turned in-
stantly to repel the charge. They would have
had better success in this, if they had not been
caught almost unprepared. They had been
hourly expecting, the troo ers, but the trouble
and confusion occasioned y Sidney and Irene
had led them to this reckless laxity.

There were probably no braver men . in the
Cimarron region than Maverick Bill and the out-
laws who rallied under him, and they made one
of the most desperate fights on record. But they
could not successqu cope with sostrong a force
in the open corral. hey stood manfully to their

 

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dim light, the prostrate body of

  

Lone Hand

 

 

ground. however, retreating slow] toward the
opening into the stronghold until averick Bill
fell mortally Wounded. Then the others broke,
and attempted to save themselves by a flight in-
to the interior. One other of their number was
shot down before they could escape from the
corral, into which the victorious troopers were
pouring like a resistless tide. .

The demoralizell thieves gave no heed what—
ever to the miserable girl tied up in the seclusion
of her room, nor did they attempt to defend the
opening. but ran hither and thither, Seeking some
safe hiding-place.

it seemed almost a miracle that Philip Sidney
was not slain by one of the many balls that for
a time flew like hail across the inclosure, and
which battered themselves against the rocks
around him. He shouted wildly to the soldiers,
knowi them to be friends: but in the uproar
they di not hear him.

However.'when the outlaws retreated behind
the rocky barriers. of the stronghold proper, he
managed to make himself heard and understood.

The first to reach his side was Old Joe.

“It’s you, boy! Thank God!”

With that he Whipped out his knife, and with
quick strokes cut the cords that held the young
ranchman.

The troopers were crowding into the narrow
passage through which they had seen the robbers
retreat.

“ Come l” exclaimed Sidney, after hurriedly
mumbling his thanks, “Irene is in there. We
must save her!”

He hastened forward, dragging the old man at
his side.

The dawn wasth breaking along the eastern

sky, betokeniug the quick coming or day: and,

as they ran on, they recognized even by this
Maverick Bill.
The outlaw chief was not dead. a fact evi-
denced by his moanings. ' '
They had no time to devote to him just then.
The safety of Irene was the thought uppermost
in' the minds of both.
They found the passage almost clear, and Sid-
ney was able to make his way ’direct to her
room. The troopers had sped on in quest of the

, terror-stricken thieves.

’ Irene uttered. a cry of fright, as she saw two
men appear at the opening to her apartment;
but this was changed to an exclamation of joy,
when she knew who they were. .

Sidney lost no time in releasln 'her, and then
took her in his arms and kisse her again and
again, oblivious of the fact that Old Joe was
standing near. -

“ That’s all right!" the old he erman said,
encouragineg. “ 1 kin reec’lect v ry well that
I was young onc’t myself. May yer jly last
ferever, with never a cup 0’ sorrer in it!"

The pursuit of the outlaws was quickly ended.
Such of them as were not killed threw down
their weapons and begged for mercy. .

The sun ,had risen when Old Joe and‘Sidney
bethoutght themselves of Maverick Bill, and
made elf way again to the corral.

He "5.5 found“ still alive and conscious; and, -

when the saw this, they Sent word of the fact
to 0010119 Tomlinson. "
I It Was plain hat Maverick could not live
long: and Tom! neon instructed that he be
brought "no the large apartment and made as
comfortable {18 9083MB. Tomlinson was a hu—
mane oflicar, In Spite 01' his many faults.

“ I want to speak to you.” Maverick Bill whis-
pared, beckoning t0 Old-Foe.

Sidney and Irene Wel'epl‘esent in the room at
the time, the latter Weeping bitterly. She had
been told that her _father could not recover;
and, although he had treated her so barsth and
cruelly, she was not able to dwelt herself of the
old feeling otfilial affectIOD and respect. '

Old Joe came close to the cot 0‘ the dying out-
law, and bent forward to 1198? What he might
have to say. '

“ It’s all up with me!” Maverick whispered, a
spasm of pain contorting his features. ‘ I know
that 1’“ 8°” to go. an’ that I’m not Prepared to
go. I want to do what I can. though.

' straighten 0"” my account in this world. ' It’s-

an ugl account. and beyond untanslins; but
mebhe can do 3 little.”
He paused as if for breath, or because of weak-

; Beadle’s Half-Dime library.

ward and was received into the bord'erman’s
open arms.

“ I thought you was dead long ago !" Old Joe
asserted, as if not yet able to believe what he had
heard. “Shorelyl shorely, it can’t be true! It
can’t be that I’ve got my little Coral back ag’inl”

He ventured to touch her forehead with his
roughened lips; and at this manifestation of
pleasure she clung tightly to him and returned
his kiss with interest.

The face of the dying outlaw wore a pleased
smile as he witnessed this. It seemed to atone
in some measure for his misdeeds.

“ Tell me about it!” Old Joe pleaded.
understand it at all!”

Thus appealed to, Maverick Bill told how
Irene had come to be living with him as his owu
child. Instead of being carried away by the
Indian or killed by them, as had been thought,
she ha been slipped away at the time of the
Indian raid by a servant who sought to escape
with her. This servant must have been serious-
ly wounded at the time. At any rate, be was
found dead by Maverick Bill, where he had
probable tumbled from his horse; and little
Coral, as she was then called. was discovered
sitting,r on the grass near the body, disconsolately
weeping.’

Maverick Bill took a fancy to her, and lashed
of restoring her to Joe Connetty—whom be well
knew to be her father—be carried her away and
reared her as his own daughter; and she was so
young at the time, that all the instincts of her
early childhood gradually faded from her
memory. .

“ I can’t

 

Mavsrick Bill and the other outlaws slain in
the fight at Prairie Gibraltar were buried near
Ellie rocky pile they had so long made their

ome. ~ . -

The mystery of the phantom horse became a
mystery no longer. An examination of it under
all conditionsmas well as the explanations offered
by the captured thieves—shewed that the strange
glow, which has so frequentl been mentioned.
was really a freak of nature. he horse belonged
to that type of nondesci-ipt animals whose pecu-
liarities and oddities have gone to enrich Barnum
and other showmen. Its hair appm'eflily r6-
sembled the hair of any other horse; yet it pos-
sessed the property of emitting a phosphorescent
light—a property which, when by
many other animals, fishes, glow-worms, and the
like, excites no surprise whatever. The horse
appeared to have some control over this light,
and suppressed it wheneVer scared.

The figures seen mounting the canyon wall
were nothing more than effects produced by
deft manipulations of amagic lantern; and were
intended—as was also the use of the horse—:to
keep enemies at a distance. The scared Vision
of Philip Sidney ascending this wall on the back
of the horse, seen by Old Joe. was a reproiuc-.
two of a photograph taken in the corral that
slay; Sidney being filled with fear at the time of
its taking because of a cocked revolver held
threateniugly by Maverick Bill.

Philip Sidney and Coral Connetty were united

in marriage a few days later: and there were, 4

great festivities and merry-making at Goodl
Cheer Bench, which became their future home.

The Wild, untrained girl developed into a model

woman and Wife, and Sidney grew to be one of

the mast prosperous ranchmen of the region. ?

Old Joe made his home with them for many
years. The phantom horse was retained by
them; and_they used it with good effect in their
dealings with the lawless element that for along
time troubled the country.

And 80,~Wltll.i.he kindest wishes. we leave them
in the full enJoyment of earth’s choicest bless-
in Se '

' g THE END.

 

BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS.

54-8 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock.
568 glue Dandy of Dodge.

576 he Silver Sport.

588 fioflron’Sothhr Man With a Shadow

 Tom-Out, and l’urd‘ or, The Dt‘ld Set Oi  City.

- 601 II le D l Vld A

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my daughter Connetty: aha. yours!» 3%; Jo‘fil‘blallg iliiam. u... Mountain Mountebulh.

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‘6“3 Salim-ici- Sol. the New York Navliminr.

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mawwmmwy

 

BY 015011015 0. JENKI.

456 Git-Thai- Owney ihe Unknown.

499 Git Thar 0wney'n Pledge.

518 The Demon Doctor.

58] Double-Curve Dan. in.- Pitcher Detective.
59H Flute. the Slum inn-cilve.

608 The Pitcher Detective-7n Full; or. Dan’l Doubli
616 Thain-can Detective: or. The iAutCrulsi-oithe lilac
«Hi The Pitcher Deieetivo’a Toughest Tussle.
786 Larry the Thoroughbreds or, Beaten on Every:

BY “'ILLIA -l R EYSTEH.

190 Dandv Durke; or. The Tigers of High Pine.
210 Faro Frank: or, Dandy Duke's Go-Dowa Pard-
l

  
   
   
   
 
    
   
  
  
   
 

BY ALBERT “'. AIKEN.

11 The Two Dcteotlven: or, The Fortunes of. Bowery Girl.
76 Abe Colt. tile Crow-Killer.
79 Sol Gin er. illviiinlli1lfl)per.
988 Joe lino ' ol‘Auge-I- am Ilia Day Part).
447 New \ ol'k hat. A Tale ol‘Trlclu and Traps ln Gotham.
458 New Eu laud Niels; onTlle Fortunes ol‘al‘ouadliug.
464 Nimble .114“, the Circus Prince.
49!! 'l‘non ’l‘i-d, the Arisonn 5 mn.
mo Cool Colorado, the Hill dined Detective.
518 Cool Colorado in New York.

D Y ‘JO PIERCE.

89‘? “oh 0’ the [loin-ivy t or, The Prince of Mullah sire“.
415 The Vagabond Del-active; or. Bowery Bow Been.
45$ llotn ur Bob, the Street-liny Detective.

460 The .uu‘yrr’n h'lmiluwi nr Luke's Legacy. ,
471Jnunty Joe, the Ynuni‘l'im‘lv-King.

494 surly Hlln. [he hung erryman Dowel-th
504 Five Points Phil.

509 Jack Ju rerun. the Butcher Boy Detectin.

5l6 'l‘artar 'liim or. Hw- l‘oints Phil's Menagerie.
526 North River Nat. the PM Detective.

588 “'rentlln Hex, the PrideoH-he Sixth Ward.
5-“ Jeff Filo ‘er. the Stable 803' Dunedin].

55'  Nettle, the Buy Shadow.

559 Harlem Jack. lllr “films Boy Detective.

569 Brooklyn “on, the On-Hls-OWn-Hook Detective.
57? Pavement I’m-to the Sol-yet Sifter.

5)“ JuvL-o’dnmtcrn, the. Under-Sea Prospector.
«mt “’ide-Awnke Iii-rt. the Street-Steer".
614 “'Iil-tllmr Jacob, the Detwtive’s Aid.
028 "ark Bumblebee. the Harlem Hummer.
689 Sunrise Mull, the Express-'i‘rhln lv‘e'n-i-t.
6.1-9 Cumin Balulhr Bowery llmlizcr: or.Scooping‘a Slippery Bet.
658 Sky-Rocket Rub. the Lilo-Saver. ‘

69-i- Spicy Jim, the Univ (im- nf Hi: Kind
706 Tom Thistle. the Rood-House Detective.
Tl? Mosquito Jul-ls. the Hustler ilmnln.
724! Dennis Duff tiu- hmwn Sport's Kid.
744 Disk of the Dot-ks, the Nigher atoll.

" BY «Li. occurs.

5 Vagabond Joe, the Ynnng Wandering Jew.
18 Tile Dumb pr. ‘
2? Antelo c Abe. it» Roy (v'ulde.
I keen- ulfe, ll... l‘rlm'e orihe Prairies.
Linn-o Jack. lin- Young Mustang“.
58 The Border Rims: or.’l‘lle Sorrel. Foe.
1 Delaware Dloh. ill: i‘nung R‘nuei'SDy.
74 Hawk-e 'c lilrr ' the Young Trapper Ranger.
8i! liollo,t e Do I linger. ‘
' Buri- Hhot Set I, m.- Moy Rilemau.
Sour-Face huiil. the Silent Hunter
“IIVQ‘I' “.Ql’. the "or Knight. '
Eagle Kit, iliv llny humor.
Little Texas. the Young Mustang”
N Illd Solitary. the Hermit Tn up".
hm Little Hurricane. til» Bo plain. ‘
202 Pro: eat I'ete: or, The mum Outlaw Hunters.
208 The 0: Hercules: or. The Prairie Tramps.
.18 Tiger Tom. the Texas Terror. ‘
234 Dualilmg Dir-ii 3 or. 'l'rnpper Tom’s Castle.
328 Little \i’ililllre, the Yuung Prairie Nomad.
988 The Parson De tor-tire; or, The Little Ranger. '
243 The. Dlniriili-eil Guide: or, \i‘ild anen,tlie Rug". .
260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger.
272 Mink-kin Mike, im- lioy sharpshooter. I
290 Little Foxfire, the Buy Spy.
800 The Sk ' Demon: nr, Kslnholt,tlie Ranger.
884 Whip-king Joe. the Rev Ranchero.
409 lien-ales: I-r, Dirk, the Boy Ranger.

4|? “'ehi’oot More, the Tramp Detective.
429 nub Hum. the Buy Ginnt nl‘ the Yellowstone.
444 1.1", e nm-kakln. the Young Prairie Centaur.
457 \Vlngoiifoot Fred: or. old Polar Saul.
68 'I‘amuroc Tom, the lily ’I‘rn ref y.
473 Did Tom Battier. lin- Red lver Epidemic.
482 Stonewall nob, We Buy Tram. -
562 Blunder-inc Basil. the Hermit Boy Trapper.
652 Don Burr, the Plains Freelance. ‘
gull, 0 (1 Kit gaudy? gell‘verfine?’ ‘

‘t (ii-way 'r a, in- i.- av .‘ can a near. _ -
680 Dauutleu Dan the balance. or Did [it Bandyin Arcadia.

\
ln' .msEr‘u E. BADGER. JR.

Yellowaioue Jack: or, The Tin .
lliuvk John. the Road-Agent; or. II Outlaw’l Retreat.
“iii-{icing Hills ca! MKu'uangftlie Paul.
.1108!) nor. .9 ago,_ .
Ni lit-l uw’k 'lt; “r, The Daughter of the.Ranch.
Dn nty Lani-e the Boy Sport.
Panther Pun]; nr, Dainty Lance to the Rescue.
The Black Giant: or. IN"? 1‘00“?! Jeopardy.
Deadly Dun-iii or, Fighting Fire with Fire.

‘ War-Path.

42R

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1 he I! ‘ a or Dalnt Lance on the
The 3:". $1335: at. Disinty lines Unmuks.
.11 Crooked Cale, the Cslllmu of Celestial City.
The "arrange “'olfi on'l‘he‘lieautll‘ul Decoy.
319 The "lack "mgr; or,’l‘lie lione-Thlevel’ e.
.1 mm“, pm or, The Strange Guide

5 , ' i... Kim, offlu- 'omi-i or Dnnieidioone’l Laet’i'rall.
1.49 K“- For. the Border Boy Detective.
62.”. (immumn Dan. the Roy Trailer.
“7? (‘hlneupln Dan‘s Renaud Trail.
“’43 "hint-unlit Dan'l "om Bil-etch.

0m ,nzy, it; Man. “'llllloni a Head.

70% L .Ileurt .nton . [no .
 Lighting“ Line'- Lax-t Tim“.

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he on one.
the Half-Blood: or, Th. 30"" Mk “ my.
allvct v "Ni l‘ll'lilli'. '

748 Slivv. the Friendly: or, The MgvaIOI' MP"‘.
n’r nimoicmiincn HEMYNG. '
' g9 guru}? Jinn organ: 1;: ofbthe Fflfii }
0 I Inc 0 II or; v “I”
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BEADLE’Srfi’ALFaDIMEeieLIBRARY.

 

 

“ Tb!
ea: ' . . _
“3%); wmgblzshed Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Umform Prwe of Five Cents. No Double Numbe
8‘)"
all webs
and 0. BY ED‘NARD L. “’IIEELER. Other Novels by E. L. “Wheeler. BY CDLDNEL PHENTIRS INGRAIIAM.

thind -

Deadwood Dick Novels.

fl‘gy ‘l Deadwood Dick, Llle Prince 0! the Road.

3% 20 Deadwood

ti‘
Ti

     

Dick‘s Deilancc; ur, Double Daggers.
Dick iii Disguise; ul'. Burial; Ben
85 Deadwood Dick in His Castle.
42 Deadwood Dick's Bonanza;  ,The nantnui Miner.
49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; nl', Olnsnu Oil.
57 Deadwood Dick‘s Eagles: or, The Punk 0i Flood Bar.
78 Deadwood Dick on Deck: i-r. i'xilmnitv .‘ \ne.i.he Heroine.
13.5 ii:‘.‘.‘i“’°°‘.i Riki "i‘" Mi   C"“’“"'
l “’09 L' ' n (‘Ili V U.
104 Deadwood Diek'n Dei ice: or, The Double Cross Sign.
100 Deadwood Dick as Dctcetive.
129 Deadwood Dick's Double: or. The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost.
188 Deadwood Dick’s Iloine liar-c; or, Blonde Bill.
149 Deadwood Dick’s Biz Strike or, A Game oi Gold.
156 Deadwood Diek oi’ Deadwoo : or, The Picked Party.
195 Deadwood Dick‘s Dream; or, The Rivnls oi‘ths Road.
201 Deadwood Dick‘s: “’ard; <lr,The Black Hill’s Jezebel.
:05 lI’ll-,is‘i‘rroi'szil  ili’oosg - or. fslamily June‘s Adventure.
‘ 7 ea woo c's en en.
221 Deadwood Dick’s Death-Plant.
282 Gold-Dust. Dick. A ltmnniire oi' Rough: and Tonghs.
 {:ea1\roog  git-[take nr,"{lie Spirit ofSwsmp Lake.
can woo c's ea "ra
809 Deadwood Dick's Deal: or. The Gold Brick ofOrciron-
821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen: or, The Fakir oii’llantom Fists
847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Days in the Diggings.
 Beadiwor‘il I‘l’i‘ct'fietnltelnced; or, ins Terrible Vendetta.
on we 1- ' s l a m.
405 Deadwood Dick in Dead Cit .
410 Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds.y
421 Deadwood Dick in hew York; or, A “Cuts Case.”
430 Deadwood Bielfi‘sJDnst: lit, The Chained Hand.
- c r.
Diok'. Jr.‘s, Defiance.
iii‘i” 3' i.l‘”ri'““‘i‘ c
. c r. s x oun - p.
465 Deadwood Dick: Jr.’s: Racket at Claim 10.
 Beadlwogdl  ~k .J'r.”s. fiorrsli’i: or, Blouiuun Bill.
ea wo c r. s 03 etect ve.
431 Deadwood Dick: Jr., in Dendw ood.
23}; i’r‘i‘ififi‘i iii”? 3"?" f°l."“i‘f"
e o e '. r. s n or ance.
:8: Beairwoog  iris: Biffiugs.
eat woo c r.'l-. e verance.
515 Deal wood Dick: Jr.‘s, i‘rotegee.
522 Dem wood Dick. Jr.’s, Three.
529 Deni wood Dick, Jr.'s, Danger Ducks.
2:: Ken: woo:  slsz‘, D'Fath llunt.
ea woo c ‘ r. n exalt.
544 Deadwood Dick: Jr... the Wild West Vidooq
549 Deadwood Dick, Jr., on His Mettle.
52.4 l:°“.ir°:i‘ ii?“ 3:" l" mu-
0 ea '0 c ' . n .
587 Deadwood Dick; Jr.: in Philadelphia.
2;: ll“:i"°°:i lilo:  
. ea woo c . r. on .
584 Deadwood Dick, Jr}, in Denver.
ood Dick. Jr.‘s, Decree.
595 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Beelzebub’s Basin.
600 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Coney island.
 Beadwoog met, irks. lfiagvil'ie Lay.
cai woo c ' r. u e ro t.
oil-l Deadwood Dick: Jr.,’ in Cincinnati.
624 Deadwood Dick. Jr.. in Nevada.
680 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land.
222 ii‘“$“’°:.‘i illfi'i’ 3'” {mfi'i‘rhi’ °"“"
eawo c.r.n uao.
 Deagwooog  Jim’gflase Across the Continent
660 33a 33m Digk,’ 1:52, 1..2:§.‘.‘.‘§fé'.'.'::.“°"‘
666 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Back in the Mines.
672 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Durangog or.“Gsthered in."
 Reagents:   lll'iseolvery; or, Found s Fortune.
. ea wo ' . . all e.
690 Deadwood Dick: Jr.‘s. Dollars.
895 Deadwood  in: ai'Danger Divide.
c . r. s, rap.
7 od Dick Jr. at Jack-Pot.
no Deadwood Dic ~’ Jr.,' in San Francisco.
 Beadlwogs‘il lll’i'cl: Jr.'l, gnu i"ant.
ea wo c ' r.'s. om noes.
728 [Deadwood Diok,’ Jr.‘s, Disguise.
784 Deadwood Dick, Jr.‘s, Double Deal.
740 Deadwood Riot, Jr. s, geatbliwtatch.
c ' r. on e .
752 Deadwood Dick: Jr.’ Dcathblow.
757i Deadwood Dick, Jr. Desperate Strait.
764 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Lone llau .
:70 Deadwood Dick, Jr.‘s, Defeat.
7

28 Dead wood

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76 Deadwood Dick, Jr.‘s, Resurrection.
82 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dark Days.

BY J. C. CIIWDRICK.
Broadway Billy Novels.

490 Broadway Billy. the Bootblncl: Bravo.

514 Broadway Billy’s Boodle.

586 lllroasiway Billy's ‘Diiiikilty.”

lroadway Billy’s Death Racket.

{roadway Billy’s Surprise Party.
Broadway Billy; nr,Tlle Buy Dewcllve’IBiz Inning.

 

 

 

62R 1 roadway lilliy's Dead Act.

66 Broad way Billy Abroad. I

675 roa. way Billy‘s Best: animating San Francisco's Finest.
687 um way Billy in Clover.

696 Broadway Billy in Texas.

708 Broadway Billy's Brand.

711 liroadway Dilly at Santa Fe.

720 Broadway Billy’s Frill "and.

785 Broadway Billy’s Business.

786 Broadway Billy's Curious Case.
758 Broadway Billy in Denver.

762 Broadway Billy's Bargain.

769 Broadway Billy, the Retriever Detective.
775 Broadway Billy’s Shadow Chase.
788 Broadway Billy‘s Beagles.

 

other Novels by J. C. Cowdrick.

.50 silver-flask the Man of Mystery.

869 Shasta, the ‘old King; or, For Ssvsn Years Dead.
420 The Deiective’s A prentieez or, A Boy Without s Name.
4“ Clbu“ John: or, edrl‘ioi Tunes ll All“ BC?-

489 Bandy Earn, the Street Scout.

467 Disco Dan. the Daisy Dude.

508 Red ht Ralph the Prince of the Road.

524 The "Ineer Detective.

548 Mart, the Night Ex ess Detective.

571 Air-Line Luke t eYonng Engineer.

592 The Boy Pinkerton. I

815 Fighting Barr the Chief of Chained Cyclone.
3‘0 arehack Bet , the Centaur of tho Cir-c s.

647 'pewriter Tilly, tho hierchsnt’s Ward.

059 Koonliglst Morgan, tbs " Plunest "Hun olAnts Bu.

 

26 Cloven lloof', the Buiinlo Demon.

BOD Woolf; ill’, The Girl Drall‘ShOi.

Death-Face, Detertive; or, Life in New York.

01d Avalanche: or, Wild Fdnu, the (iiri Brigand.
53 Jiln liludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix.

61 Buckliorii Bill: or, The Red Rifle Team.

69 Gold lliilc, the Shiii‘yslnmter; or, The Boy Detective.
80 Rosebud Rob ' or, Nugget Ned, the Knight.

ldyl, the Girl Klilier; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand.
88 Photograph Phil: on Rusebnd Rob‘s Reappearance,
92 Canada Chet: or, ()lii Anaconda in Sitting Bull's Camp.
“'iitch-i“. e; or. Arnhs nnd Angels oiu Great City.
118 Jack lloy e the Ynung Snerulntur.

117 Gilt-Edged Dick. the Spin Detective

121 (‘lnnalnon (.‘hlp, the Girl Sport.

125 Bonanza ilill, Miner.

I88 Ilosa iioh the King of Boothlarks.

141 Solid Sam the Boy Road—Agent.
 Captains Benet, the New York Detective.
177

181

have:
are»

1
iii

3
a

New York Nell tiie Boy—Girl Detective.
Nobb Nick of Slevadat or, The Sierra! Scampl.
“'ild rank, the Buckskin Brnvo.
209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective.
218 Fritz to the Front: or, The Ventriloqulst Hunter.
226 Snoozer, the Buy Shnrp; or, The Arab Detective.
286 Apollo llill, the Trail Tornado.
240 C clone Kit, the Young Gladiator.
244 fi erra Sam, the Frontier Ferret.
248 Sierra Sam's tieeret: or, The Bloodv Footprints.
253 Sierra Sara's Para; or, The Angel oi Big Vista.
258 Sierra Sam’s Seven; or, The Stolen Bride.
278 Jumbo Joe, the Buy Patrol: or. The Rival Heirs.
277 Denver Doll. the Detective Queen.
281 Denver Doll’s \ ictory.
235 Denver Doll’s Decoy: Of. Little Bill’s Bonanza.
291 Turk the Boy Ferret.
296 Denver Doll’s Drift: or. The Road Queen.
A No. l, the Dashin Toll-Taller.
808 ’lea Jane, the ’n'ir Miner or. the lron-Nerved Sport.
325 Kelley, llickcv & Co.. ti. Detectives ofPhiladelphin.
330 Little Quick-Shot: or,‘ he Dead FnceofDisggersviilo.
884 Kangaroo Kit; of. The Mysterious Miner.
889 Kan aroo Kit’s Racket.
848 Maniattan Mike, the Bowery Blood.
858 li‘lrat.Ciuas Fred, lhe Gent iron) Gopher.
36a Yreka Jim. tho Gold-Gatherer; or, The Liis Lottery.
872 Yreka Jim’s Prize.
8776 Nabois Ned: or, Tiles-‘cretofSlah City.
882 Cool K“. the. King 0i Kids; or. A Villain’s Vengeance.
8855 Yreka Jim’s Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nose.
889 Bicycle lien: ortThe Lion of Lightning Lode.
894 Yreka Jim of ‘ Illul Dam.
400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective.
416 “1", "at, Harry, the Base Brill Detective.
426 Sam Slab-ides. the BezgnnBoy Detective.
484 Jim Beak and l’al. Private Detectives.
488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher.
‘88 Seaiskin Sam, the Sporkler.

BY T. C. IIARBAUGII.

28 Nick 0’ the Night: 07. Th" Boy Spy of’76.
87 The Hidden Budget 0? The Littlr Hunter.
47 Nightin ale hat' on Tue Forest (‘n taint.
64 “and “0k: or, The Outlaws oi the (grazon Trail.
82 Kit I iirei'oot. the Wood-Hawk.
94 Midnight J sick; or, The Boy Trapper.
106 Did Frosty, the wide: or, The “'hite Queen.
23 Klown Charley the “ hits Musinnger.
80 Jud e Lynch Jr.t 0?. 1 he Buy Vigilante.
55 Cult Trig er, the SP1"; ",T a Girl Avenger.
69 Tornado on: "'1 "1"" JM‘h From Red Core.
88 Ned Temple, the Border Boy.
9’3 Arkansaw i or. The Que. n oi Fate's Revengs.
207 Navajo Nick. the Boy Giold Hunter.
215 Captain Ballet : _i-r. Little Touknoi‘s Crusade.
281 l’lllcky Phil; or._flosu. the Rel Jezebel.
241 lliil Bravo: or, Tue Returns of the Rockies.
255 Captain .luiollt y me MHz-Pin ui‘ Bowie.
267 The Buckskin Detective.
279 (ml \VInch; nrY 'Tne iiiicxskin Desperadoes.
294 D 'naniite Dan: or. The Bowie Blade of Oochstops.
802 '1‘ e Mountain Detective: or, The Trigger Ber Bully.
816 Old Eclipse. Trump Curd of Arizona.
826 The Ten l'arus: yr. The Terror «1 Take-Notice.
886 Big Benson: 0?. The Queen of the ano.
345 Dune“, Matt; or, Red Thiinrlerholt’s Secret.
356 Pool sum not! Par": or The Terrible Six.
866 Velvet, Font, the lndian Detective.
8R6 Captain Cutlass: 01'. " he B -ccnneer‘s Girl Foo.
896 Rough Rob: or. The iwin Champions oi‘ Blue Blazes.
411 The Silken Lani-oi “Y, The Rose of Ranch Robin.
4194 Felix Fox. the my Spotter.
425 Texan Trump. the Border Rattler.
486 Phil Flash, the New ‘Hirir Fox.
445 The City Vampires: or, Red Rolfe’s Pigeon.
461 Due Against, Fifty: or. The Lust Man of Keno Bar.
470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt.
477 The Excelsior sport: or, The Wsshington Spotter.
499 Single flight. the One—Eyed Sport.
502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret.
512 Dodger Dick. the Wharf-Spy Detective.
521 Dodger Dick’s Bet LDodge.
523 Fox and Falcon, the llou'eryshndowa.
58S Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret.
548 Dodzer chk’fl Double: or, The Rival Boy Detective!-
558 Dodzcr Dick’s Desperate Case.
563 Dodger Dick. the Boy Viiiocq.
578 The Two Shadows.
5‘32 Dodger Dick’s Drop.
594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective.
610 Did Skinner. the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sitar-p on Guard.
626 The Champion l’urds.
687 Dick Donn, the Dock Boy Detective.
645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp.
658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beagle.
871 Jersey Jed, the Boy Hustler: or, Shadowing the Shadower.
685 Happy Hugh, the BoyMuslcisn Detective.
701 Photograph Fred. the Camera Sharp.
715 “’ide Awake Len. the Quaker City Ferret.
782 Daisy Deli, the Pavement Detective; or, Trapping Big Game-
742 Billy lVinka, the Bell Boy Detective.
754 Billy Winks, the Boss Boy Shadow.
768 Eagle Ned, the Boy on Guard.

780 Tonkaway Tons, the Red “'lzard.

BY BUFFALo BILL (Hon. Wu. F. Cody).
8 Kan-as King; or, The Red Right Hand.
19 The Phantom Spy: or,Ths Pilot of the Pruirls.
55 Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout.
.8 Border Robin flood; or, The Prairic Rover.

J 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado; or. The 'i‘nppsr’s Trust.

 

7 The Flying Yankee; or, The Ocenn Outcast.

17 Ralph Roy, the liny Blli‘i‘linrt‘l'; or. The Fugitive Ya:

24 [Diamond Dirk ° or, Tile Mystery oi‘the Yellowstone.

0g ’l‘he Shadow hliip: nr,’l'he Rivul lieutenants.

7‘) l he “03' Duelist; or, The Cruise ill. the Sea-“'0”,
102 Dick Dead-E 'e, the Boy Sinnggler.
Ill The Sen-Dev l; or, The )lidshlpnmn‘s Legacy.
116 '1 he Iiussar Captuin: or, The Hermit oi lleil Gate.
197 Little Grit, the Wild Rider; or, The Stock-Tender‘s D8
204 iluiialo lliil, the Pony Express Rider.
216 Iii-ion Bill. the Prince oi the Reins: or, Buil'nlo Bill's]
222 G5,“. the llravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer.
229 C union hate, the Girl Trilliel'.
287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Cn tain; or, The Mysterious P
245 Merle the Middy or,'iPhe Heir ui‘un Ocmn Freels
250 The )iiduhipman Istineer; or, Brandt, the Bnci
264 The Floating Feather: or, Merle )lonte'a Treasi
269 The Gold Ship: or. Merle, me Condemned.
276 Merle Morite’s Cruise: or, "The Gold Ship ” Chm
280 Merle Monte‘s Fate: or, The Pirate’s Pride.
284 Merle Montc‘u Pledge; or, The Sea Milrauder.
287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover.
304 The Dead Hunt Dandy : or, Benito, the Boy Bugle
808 Dcud §hut Dandy”: Double.
814 The Mysterious iarauder; or, The Boy Bu ler’
877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover: or.The FlagiessSc 00!
333 The Indian Piloti nl’,'i‘heVSenrcli for Pirste island.
88? “'arpath ‘Vill, the Trilitur Guide; or. The Boy Phnn
898 Seawaii’, the Boy Lieutenant; or, The Red ('lsrped Hn
402 lsodor, the Young Conspirator; or, The Fatal 1
407 The Boy Insurgent; ur. The Cuban Vendetta.
412 The “’ild Yachts-man; or, The W'nr-Ciouu’l Crui
429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee.
488 (‘nptain Carl, the Corsair: or. A Cabin Boy’s Luck.
487 The Sea Raider or, The Hawks (lithe Hook.
441 The (Mean Fire 5'; or, A 3ilddy’s Vengeance.
446 llaphazard llarry: or, The Scapeng oi the Son.
450 “'izard “'ill, the Wonder-Worker.
454 “'izard “'ill’tl Street. Scouts.
462 The Born Guide: or. The Sailor Boy Wanderer.
468 Ne tune Ned, the Boy Coaster.
474 “’ zard “'ill’s \ agabond Par-d.
488 \i‘izurd “'ill‘s Last. Case; or. Ferreie Afloat.
487 Nevada Ned, the Revoii'er Ranger
495 Arizona Joe, the Buy Yard of Texas Jack.
497 Back Taylor, King oi the Cowboys.
508 The Royal Middy : or. The Shark and the Sea Cst.
507 The Hunted Midshipman: on The You“: Set RI!
511 The outlaw Middy: or. The Young Patriot Sea list
520 Buckskin Bill, the (‘miuinche Shadow.
525 Brothers in Buckskin“ or, The Tangled Trails in‘
580 The. Buckskin Bowers.
585 The Buc skin Rovers; or,'l‘he Prairie Fugitive.
540 Captain Ku—Klux, the Marauder oi the Rio
545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte.
550 Lafitte’n Legacy: or. The Avenzinz Son.
555 The Creole Corsair; or, The Golden Wings of the
560 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadow/or.
565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King.
570 Camille, the Card Queen; or, The Skelrton Trail.
575 The Surgeon-Scout Detecti .'e.
580 The Outcast Cadet; or, The False Detective.
586 The Buckskin Avenger; or, Pawnee Bill‘s Pied;
591 Delmontc. the Young Sea Rover; or, The Avengingf

597 The Young Texan Detective; or, The Black B
602 The Vagabond oi'the Mines.

607 The Rover Detective; or, Keno Klt's Champio
617 Ralph, the DeadoShot Scout; or. The Rio Raide
844 Butterfly Billy’s Debut. I

650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Rider Detective; or,
Bill's Boy Pin-ii.

656 Butterfly Billy’s Man llunt.

662 Butterfly Billy’s Bonanza.

668 The Buccaneer Midshipman; nr,The Sea Rove:
674 The “'izard Sailor; or, Red Rslph, the Rover,
679 The Sea Shadower; or, The Freebooter’s Legncv
686 Orlando, the Ocean Free Flag: or, The Tamislied NM
692 The Rival Sharps; or, Redfem. tlu Secret Servlc
697 The Scarlet sombrero; or. The Sharp from Texa
702 Blue Jacket Bill; or. The Red Hat Rnnzers’ Red Ho
707 The Red Sombrero Routers; or, Redfem's Ls:
718 (‘ai-l, the Mad Cowboy; 0r, The Lariat Queen.
719 Pawnee Blll'fl Plodue: 0r, The (‘owhny Kldnnpper
725 Daring Dicks Pflwm'e BillK‘ Paul; or, The Red Cnval
731 Ruth Redmond, illi‘ Girl Flimlower.

787 Buck Taylor, the Commit-he’s Captive.

748 Buck Taylor"! Boys; or. The Red Ridersoiihe Rio
749 Dashing Charlie; or, The Kentucky Tenderfoot’s Fir
756 Dashing Charlie‘s Del-tiny; or, The Reneeade’s
760 Dashing (‘harlic‘s Pawnee Para»

766 Dashiiiiz Charlie, the Resuier.

772 Dick Doom’s Death-Grip; or. The WWW by?
777 Dick Doom’sl Destiny; or, The River Blacklegl, T

LATEST AND NEW ISSUES.

784 Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Detective: or, The Shr
Sim,“ of New York, By Col. Prentiss lngl’ahaul.

785 Lorie Ilnnd Joe,
Steed of the Stone Corral.

786 Broadwn Billy’s Team; or, The Detective Ci
Big Pull. iv J. C. Cowdrick.

787 Deadwood Dick. Jr., Deilcd; or, The Prince i
Pocket. By Edward L. Wheeler.

788 Dick Doom in Boston; or, A M“ of Mwy Mm
Col. Prentiss lnzrshnm.
Ready August 30.

8 Sheridan, the Secret Service Special: on The J
789 “Tiny Bird Bar. By Wm. G. Patten.
Rudy September 6.

A New Issue Ever! Tied-Y-
'l'hc nalf- Dime Library in '0' “k by ‘1‘ new“
coats per copy, or sent by mail on rootlr‘ 0‘ '1‘ 0““ 00th

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publisher
90 William Street, New I

the Committee of One: or, Th-
By Lieut. A. K. Sinil.