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Illllllmmw ,     A HIHIHIIIIIIIHIIIIHIIIIH , :IWII'II'rlfllF'II mum ell-HIIHIK .
Copyrighted 1895, by BEADLE AND ADAMS. November 12. 18% 1

Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y . Post Office.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS. Price,
5  Vol. XXXVII.

$2.50
NO'  a Year- No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK.
1- ¥ 7 ‘7 r V _ _‘ a" \‘ ¥\\l
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“AND 50 YUU ’l'\\'() A“); TOM BATTLE“ AND MRS. KIT HANDY, HEY?" DEMANDED YOUNG JOVE.

   

 

" i ‘ .The horse was bridlelsss, but u

  

Old Kit Bandy’s Compromise.

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YOUNG J OVE,

THE DANDY DEAD-SHUT:

, n,
Old Kit Bandy’s Compromise.

BY OLL CUOMES.

CHAPTER I.
LOST IN This FOG.

THE Little Dismal Desert!

It was a local name applied to a long reach of
sandy plain, covered with sagebrush and sand-
willows, stretching away from the foot-hills of
the mountains toward the south.

For two days a thick, black fog had hung over
this trackless waste making it ten-fold more
dismal and for nearly two days‘Ben Hall and
Fred Weston had wandered about at random
over that plain—under that fog—lost on the Dis-
mal Desert!

They were both oung men, Hall being about
twentythree and l eston a year or two younger.
They Were dressed as plainsmen and well-
armed. They .were not plainsmen, however,
but young business men from Iowa. on their way
to the mountains for a summer’s outing. Ben
Hall had been there twice before, and, having
confidence in his previous experience, they had
left the railroad, purchased ponies and a general
outfit, and struck out across the country by an
unfrequented route that ran through the Little
Dismal Desert.

All had gone well until their first night on
that trackless waste. Lea ring their horses sad-
dled and bridled, for there was neither water
nor grass for them, they wrapped their blankets
around them and laid down to rest. When they
awoke in the morning their horses with most of
their outfit were gone! The fog still hung over
the plain, deep and dark, and lnrsearching for
their animals they had become bewildered—

ostl

. if they had taken the premution of a plains-
man to follow the tracks of the ponies, they
might have found them, but, expecting to find
the animals near, they began groping about
among the sage-brush, and are they were aware
of the fact had entirely lost their bearin s.

This was deeplyvregretted by Ben Hal . Over
at Red Notch mining-camp in the Colorado
Mountains, John Kingsley, an old friend and
schoolmate of Ben, was waiting his coming.
Ben had written him that he would be there by
a certain date, and, if not there on time, he—
Kiugsley—need not look for him at all. and he
was now ten days behind time.

All day they wandered about, crossing and re-

'crossing their Own tracks a dozen times, but
never once those of their horses. -

A second night they slept on the desert. The
next morning they resumed their tramp, but
hunger and thirst were beginning to tell on body
and mind. All their provisions were in their
saddle-bags on the backs of the nice.

“ If this fog doesn’t lift soon, red,”Ben final-
ly observed, in a somewhat despondent tone,
‘ the coyotes may pick our bones.’

“It is very unfortunate that we didn’t un-
saddle those ponies,” Fred responded, “ for you
know they never left us before even though un-
hitched. We oughtto have known better,hut
now‘we'll have to make the best of our blunder.
It seems to me it’s growing lighter; the fog may
lift about noon.” \

“ I hope so, at least,” Ben added; “ but it does
seem strange that we should become so com-
pletely bewildered on a little sand-patch not

wenty miles across in any direction. I say it is
dbwnright aggravating, ahd— Ah, hark! ’

Ben’s eager ear_caught a rustling among the
bushes, and stopping short they peered around
them. ‘ A few rods away they saw the movin
head 0’? an animal above the bushes, which a

‘ that point were thick and tall. ‘

“It’s a riderless horse,” whispered Ben Hall;
“drop down! it may perchance be, one of our
.own animals.” ,, '

The horse came obliquely across their path,

,and when about four rods from them etc

ed danger. , '

“My God!” involuntarily burst from Ben
Ball’s lips At the sight that now met thalli- eyes}
in line
, ,' was a Mexicanfsaddle. and resting n the seat
g- was a ghastly object—a human head with is

l , \

 

 

dark, slouch-brimmed bet u n itl The face
was turned toward them, pi: e and bloodless.
The eyes were half open and seemed to be gaz-
ing straight into the eyes of the two startled
wanderers.

For only a moment did the horse stand still;
then, seemingly alarmed, bounded away with
its ghastly, trunkleSs rider into the gloom.

The two men gazed alter the horse until it
had disappeared, then looked into euch other’s
faces. Fred Weston saw that his companion‘s
was as ghastly, almost, as that in the saddle.
His lips were twitching, and breathing seemed
difl‘jcult. Fred was alarmed.

“ Ben, you are sick!" he exclaimed; “ but I do
not wonder.”

“Fred Weston," said Ben, in a husky voice,
“as sure as there’s a heaven above us, that
face in the saddle is the face of my beloved
friend, John Kingsley, whom we were to meet
at Red Notch Campl’

CHAPTER II.
A HORRIBLE DREAM VERIFIED.

FRED WESTON was fairly thunderstruck by
Ben’s declaration, and decidedly alarmed at the
pallor of his face.

“Ben,” he said, “ that’s all a mistake about
that being your friend’s head and face. It’s
nothing more than a dummy some cowboy has
fixed up and sent adrift to create a sensation.
The resemblance to your friend’s face is merely
a fancy—a coincidence.” C

“ Fred, I hope you are right,” Ben res nded,
with a breath of relief; “but if it’s a ummy,
it is horribly natural. I hope you are right.
This is indeed a Dismal Desert to us.”

The wanderin tourists resumed their tramp.
They followed t e track of the strange horse,
hopin that through its animal instinct they
woul be enabled to escape from the desert.
For two hours they followed it, and then were
suddenly startled by a horse galloping across
their path.

It was that same horse, and in the saddle
rods that same hast] object. It was now
evident to Ben an Fre that the animal itself
was wanderin aimless] around over the plain.

Again Ben eclared t was the face of John
Kingsley in the saddle, and Fred himself began
to t ink. seriously over the matter. ‘And the
more they pondered over it the more complfi
cated the mystery seemed to come.

Finally they were so thoroughly worked up
over the matter that they began to wonder if
they were not undergoing some mental hallu-
cination su erinduced Ethe fog or atmospheric
influence 0 the Dismal esert—if the horse was
not a mere phantom of the mist. I

“ To settle the matter,” declared Ben, flnall
" I’m going to shoot the horse, if lead will k i
it, when it crosses our path a sin l”

He had scarceelg spo enw eniFred touched
his arm and call hlsattention, by a glance, to
the horse coming directly toward them, but a
few rods away.

Ben quickly raised his rifle and fired. He
was a superb shot, and, with a groan, the horse‘
sunk down in his tucks. ' t

Then for a moment the twd men stood stock-
still. asif dreading toapprOach and learn the

 

truth. But flnall . Ben Ha‘ll took the lead
find they a vane, .to the side of the dead
one. '

The animal la upon ,its side. That ghastl
object .in the sa dle lay with its face upturnedy,
and its byes seemed to meet those of the tourists.
For a moment the latter Ifared at it in silence;
then. half choking. Ben' all gas ed out: a

“ Fred, that is John Kingsley 8 face! He has
been murdered and his body mutilated l" ,

The young man grew so'sick at heart that he
wag compelled to walk ofl a few paces and sit
down.

Fred Weston removed the ghastly relic from
the saddle-seat where it had been securely
and ingeniously fastened, dug a hole in the sand
with his hands and buried it. p -

Then, in looking about the saddle, he made'a
discovery: on the smooth leather saddle-flaps he
saw a number of words written—~evidentl with
some sharp-pointed instrunient. He told en of
higrgiscpvery, and read aloud to him these.
w s:

“ Who is her—was found dead in the mountains—-
no marks of violence —death by heart failure-nos
thing about hizu by which to identify. In hopes of
reocgnitlonlresort to this ghastl expedient. He
had allttle fortune in gold-dusts riends ’can have
same on proof of right. Let him who would obtain
this gold w ~ar blue ribbon or badge in buttonhole.
but ask no questions. until questioned in camp
or ca you. when I am satisfied I will rrcognlze—
don t talk-beharefull »" Sum Heron.”

l
l

 

“Poor John Kingsley!” exclaimed Ben Hall,
in tones of sorrow. “ What an untimely ending
of a noble and kind—hearted young manl There
is not a single doubt in my mind now of its be-
ing John. i remember he told me only last
summer of his having some trouble of the heart.
He n rote me since then of his working in a
placer that was panning cut a little fortune.
With his gold I presume he started alone to de-
posit it in someplace where it could besafe—per-
haps he had started home. hoping to be back by
the time we reached Rel Notch. This, of course,
is only my theory of the matter.”

“ A nd it is a very strange Coincidence,” added
Weston, “that we should fortunately be the
first to run across the horse and recognize that
face as Kingsley’s when we did, for decomposi-
tion would have soon set in.”

“ Not in this atmosphere, Fred; the flesh would
have dried up, and the person sending the head
adrift must have been aware of the effect of the
atmosphere of this country on dead flesh. But
just why ‘ Silent Honor ’ exacts such terms—
such secrecy of the friends of the deceased man,
surpasses my comprehension. How is he to
know that the person finding the horse and
recognizing that face isa friend or relative of
the dead man? The bigfiiet Scoundrel in Colo-
rado may have knewn ingsley found all we
have found, and demanded the gold should he be
able to find ‘ Silent Houor.’through the medium
of a blue badge or ribbon.”

“ It looks to me as if the fellow, whoever he is
wants an oxcu=e to keep the gold, even if he did
not murder Kingsley to obtain it,” lsaid Fred
Weston. “ HOWever there is something. so
peculiarly strange—l might say, mysterious—
about it as to bear investigation in the manner
designated by ‘ Silent Honor.’ ”

“ on are right. Fred, and who has a better
right to demand John Kingsley’s gold than If
not for my Own use, but for his sister Edith, of
whom I have heard him often speak, but whom
I have never met. She resides in Eastern Kan-
sas .with an uncle. She and John were orphans.
It will be my painful duty towrite her of her
brother’s death when we reach Red Notch, if we
ever do.” , ‘

Ben made a copy of the writing on the saddle,
and then the two resumed their tramp.

And, now that their minds were somewhat
relieved, they noticed it had grown lighter—the
fog was lifting! The dim outlines of the distant
mountain-range became visible, and to still add
to the 0y of this discovery, they came suddenly
upon 1: eirown ponies with bridles, saddles and
outfit intact. _

Securin the animals, the made adive into
their sad e-bags for somet ing to set; then,
mounting, they rode briskly toward the hills
that were gowing plainer every minute.

At lengt a little breezesprung up‘blowing
mountainward ; the fog was whirled away over
the hills, and the Dismal Desert became flooded
with the slanting rays of the declinin sun. Ben
glanced back over the waste, and, asi remotest
extremity could be defined by the,unaided eye,
a looeki of disgust settled upon his face as be ob-
serv : ,

“Fred Weston, 1 hope it will never at out
that we were lost two days on a can ~patch
whose extremities are within range of the naked
9 cl , l "

y“ The f Ben, was the cause of our trouble,"
answered, red. .

“Well. we’ll lay it to the fog, at any rate,”
laughed Ben. -

By the time the shadows of night .had fallen
the tourists had reached the foot-hills, a

exile ilnto camp where water and gr .155 were to a
a . ' . ‘ .

They had a good night’s rest, and with mind
and body thus refreshed. woman and 0! early
the next morning; and when they next went in-

to camp on the succeeding night, it was far over ‘

in the mountains. ‘ , , _ .p
The second day iii the hills passed without in‘
cident. At noon of the third day they stopped
for dinner and rest in Black Rock Canyon in
the shadows on the west side of the- defile. Bel
hind them the bluff sloped gradually away into
the sky. line.  Before them, on the ogposite side -
the bluff arose. perpendicular, tot 8 height of
five hundred feet, then drop , »bacll into a
cutie slope that was . covsred with
gushes. Azlittlelaugbing stream went gliding

» through the can on.

. ‘ The facade o this perpendicular wall was
bristling with scrubby bushes—some living, some
dead—that grew from every crack and crevice.
on the face of the rocky ram
the base of the cliff pa tee grew, twi ’
their long teddrilsabout the bushes and

like leeches to the bare rocks, '   3, .; .,

\

 

rt, while upfrom- 5 v ,

   

 

 

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F
J

 

   
 
 
 
 
 
  
    
    
   
 
  
  
  
       
    
  
   
    
   
 
   
 

 
    

 

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. . . ,

Old Kit‘ Bandy’s Compromise.

 

   
 

‘ ' Ben and Fred could not help admiring the pic-
turesque grandeur of the scene before them, and
while they thus sat with their eyes uplifted to
the dizzy heights, they were startled by e re-
port of a rifle that came rebounding through the
hills, followsd by a yell such as they had
never heard before. In an instant they were
upon their feet.
“ Heavens!” cried Ben, “ what do you suppose
that means?"
 “ Look! see!” exclaimed Fred.
 Down the slope toward the edge of the
' ' precipice they saw the lithe figure of a white
man running, while, in swift pursuit, followed a
dozen howling Indians.
In an instant Ben had his tourist’s glass to his
2' eye and focused upon the fugitive.
 “ Fred!” he exclaimed, “ that figure is a mere
boy, and those red demons mean to kill him or
., , force him over that cliff i”
 '-: - “And we are powerless to aid himl” added
 f.  Fred;’ “ He surely does not know of that preci-
picel
The oung tourists stood as if rooted to the
spot. hey would quickly have gone to the boy’s
assistance were such a thing possible.
The red-skins were close upon him—one of
them within forty feet. They saw the boy
lance back over his shoulder—then sto , turn
acln the- foe, and swing his arm asi in the
act 0 throwing. They saw the savage drop to
the earth as if shot; then the boy ran on to the
, very edge of the awful escarpment. There he
 g ., ,paused and again glanced back to the foe, then
' f T' e looked over the cliff. ,
 * With a fiendish yell the ravages came on, and
then-horror of horrors! the boy stepped back-
; Ls," ward and shot downward over t e cliff, a
g, :3 defiant scream trailing downward from his

. lips!
i; ', “ Great God 1” burst from Fred’s lips, and he
"‘ f; closed his 9 es and covered his ears to shut
' a 3133 the be his sight and sound of the falling‘
y

« < "(tidy-I f .v A.

 

CHAPTER III.

ASTOUNDED TOURIST—DISMAYED RED SKINS.

‘ '~'  “ Goon!” burst from the lips of Ben Hall, as
‘7  : Fred closed his eyes. “ Seei the boy has caught
' ’ ’ onto a bush and is hanging against the face of

the cliff!”

Less than th feet from the edge of the
y  reciplce, the daring oath, trul enough, had
": z. ._ . allen intonbush whic ,growing romacrevice
‘   " in the wall,,had turned upward to the sunlight.

-  He had caught hold of the bush and there hung.
 7 -' ‘ He gazed upward and then downward. He saw
the savages leering down 1: n him, and, releas-
, ing his hold, again shot ownward and again
7-  landed in a second bush twenty feet! below the

 , first; but this bush wasa dead one. Its roots

' radually yielded‘ under the boy’s weight, and

other boy and bush Went raking, down the
facaof the cliff. '

The sight was appalling, and, scarcely breath-
ing, Ben and Fred stood with distended eyes
fixed upon it.

Down and down went the boy, still clingipg
to the dead bush, whose stifl, rou h branches

,raking through others retarded 's descent.

Vines clinging to the bushes were torn from

their fastening and carried along, and soon the

daring boy was almost enveloped in the mass!

At times he plung like a wounded squirrel

against the cliff, then breaking away would

shoot downward again until arrested in his
descent by another bush. -

It was all of five hundred feet from the sum-
mit of the cliff, where the dismayed red-skins
stood, to the bottom of the canyon, maths mad
leap could have been made With no" hepe of
escaping death below. It seemed the boy had
chosen self-destruction rather than mailers-at
the hands'of the Indians. ' '

IYet thirty feet from thebottom of the can-
yon, Hall and Weston saw the boy's descent at.
rested by a couple of bushes growmg close to-.
gather- The youth was now almost wholly on.

i - veloped in a web of vines and broken bought.

A below him was. a thick green mass of

‘ bushesandparasitical vines, and it now looked

“as if. through the intervention of a merciful
. :Providence, and a pretax-natural resence of
' ; mind, the boy would yet escape dent .

.- » The V “the, must have entertained the
‘ some t 025 t, for the began to drop rocks
..  over the $6 of the c 'tf but came crashing
-, down Macclivity and fellwlthaboomm the

. " 3‘ 'VB, a notion toopenu that n of

' demons with my riflei' excgz-ned Beg; Ball,
,,,~gro.wing indignant. :
p  will be sweets ofl’powder, Ben,” said
' l” i. ‘ \w . ‘

 

  
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
    
    
 
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
   
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 

 

Fred; “and besides, it might be the cause of in-
jury to that boy—but hark l”

The sound of clattering hoofs was suddenly
heard coming up the canyon.

Quickly the young tourists fell back under
cover of the shrubbery, behind which their
horses were tied.

A few moments later a. single horseman swept
into view. The upper half of his face was
covered with a strip of dark cloth, with eye-
holes. The lower portion bore a heavy heard.
On his head was a slouched hat. In his right
hand he carried a revolver. His eyes were
turned toward the cliff.

At sight of the man, the tourists put him
down as an outlaw—aconfederate of the savages
on the cliff. _

At the base of the great acclivity he drew
rein and looked up and down the heights, and
then peered into the bushes along their bass.
He appeared to be looking for the boy, but the
youth was not to be seen. He had disappeared
from sight2 where he had last lodged, as com-
pletely as if dissolved into thin air, or bad crept
into a crevice of the rocky wall.

“ He’s looking for the mangled corpse of that
boy!” decided Fred. '

“ I don’t think he’ll find anything dead there;
but where could the boy have gone? He must
be a sort of a human bat.”

“ He must be on a ledge behind the bushes
and vines. Did ever mortal man escape death
so miraculously!”

“ The boy’s not safe yet, Fred, but I mean to
hold mysel in readiness to do some shooting in
his behalf, if necessary.”

The masked horseman raised his revolver,
finally, and discharged it into the bushes up
near where the boy had disap ed. Twice be
repeated the shot, but the on y response elicited
was the reverberating echoes of his pistol’s re-

rt.
p0Finally he rode close in to the foot of the clifl
and dismounted, and, leaving his horse standing-
unhitched, waded in among the bushes and
vines as if to make sure the body of the boy was
not there.

He was not over twenty paces from his horse
when Ben and Fred were startled by sight of
the boy appearing on a ledge just back of, and a
little above, the animal.

It looked as if the final crisis in the thrilling
adventure of the desperate lad was soon to be
enacted, and grasping his rifle Ben Hall decided
that his time for action in behalf of the youth
had come. He took astep forward but, as quick-
ly stepped backward, an exclamation escaping
his lips. He saw the boy leap from the ledge
with a spring like a panther down upon the
horse’s back, his feet landin squarely in the
saddle, and as the horse boun ed away with af-
fright, the daring, nimble fellow dropped astride
the animal’s backl

Straightacross the canyon toward the tourists
the frightened animal bore the new rider, and

:after him, afoot, sped the outwitted outlaw,

firing with his revolver and calling to the youth
to halt. But he might as well have tried to halt
,a wild mustang. ‘

Seeip the boy had at last escaped death, and
not me ing to encounter the outlaw, Ben and
Fred hastened to their horses, sprung into the
saddles and, instead of riding back into Black
Rock dsnyon. dashed away up the defile in the
mouth of which their horses had been resting.

They'had not ridden far before the fleet-icoted
horse ridden by the lad was alongside of them,
and their ears were greeted with the exclama-

tion: .
“ Hello, here, pards! Here we go together!”
-Ben and Fred .. lanced at the speaker’s 'face.
It was the face 0 a boy, indeed—cut, scratched
and covered with blood. He could- not have
been over eighteen years of age, and was small
even for that a e, but slender, sup lo and wiry
asa oungpant er. His head was are, having
lost his hat in his descent of the clifif, and his
long, brown hair was flying in disorder about his
brow. There was a grim smile on his bleeding
face, while from his dark-gray‘ eyes there
gledmed a light indicative o a wild, fearless

your? spir t. l
‘.‘ es, we ride together,” responded Ben to
the boy’s greeting, ‘ and I hope your troubles
are atan andl”

“Bid on folksoee me take that tumble?” the.
youth od,‘hls' faceaglow with a triumphant

lee ' t .

“ We saw it all, boy,” Ben replied; "it was
one of the. most daring and reckless feats I ever
wrtnessed. Surely youdidn’t expect to come‘
out alive?” , .

“Didn’t, eh?” responded the. duth. with a

merry twinkle of the eye; “well, made up my ’

 

 

‘mist!

 

mind them red-skins ’d never lift my silken
tresses, and just took my chances. I knowed all
’bout them bushes and vines. I guess I got
scratched a little, and my beauty blooded up
some, but it’s Wurbll all I ptssed through just to
beat that hairy renegade out of his boss. Holy,
I tell ye the critter’s a airy-footed gee-
whizzer, and beats walkin’all holler. Hal ha!
ha! that outfit’ll not get the chance to babboon
with Little Jove soon again, I’ll bet—”

I “ Say l” interrupted Ben Hall, “do you mean
to tell me you are that young mountain thun-
derbolt I heard so much about last summer up
at Red Notch Camp?”

“1 don’t know what you heard at Red Notch,
stranger,” the boy replied, “ but I am the freckled
kid they call Little Jove.”

“By gracious! boy, give me your hand l” ex-
claimed Hall: “ we’ll bear witness that you are
a Mountain Thunderbolt, and a daring young
whirlwind into the bargain l" ,

CHAPTER 1v.
ovaa rns HILLS wrrn LITTLE Jova.
Ban HALL and Fred Weston felt a sense of l

 

I relief as well as pleasure when they found them-

selves in the company of Little J 0V8, the Young
Thunderbolt. ~

On his previous visit to Red Notch, Ben had ~
heard much of the exploits of this boy, and
while, at the time, he was di to discredit
those stories, he was now y to bear witness
to the fact of having seen him perform a feat
more marvelous and thrilling than any of those.
he had heard narrated.

As the three galloped on up the defile, an ani-
mated conversation was carried on, though
never for a minute did Jove seem to relax his
watch upon the hills around them.

“ I presume you expect to be pursued?” Ben
final] observed. ' ,

“ es; but them lungers are all afoot now,”
he answered' “ an they’ll have some lively
shankin’ to o if they git a swat at me soon
again. Oh, great horned dragons! wen’t that
old renegade dance a demon’s hornpipe when he

ate tired walkin’i Boys, I tell you this isa
. usie Ellen of a boss, and I’ll bet cents to dol-
lars that wombat stole it from some rancher.” .

"Are the Indians on the war-path, Jove?”
Fred asked.

“Not the Reservation reds; but there are

angs of outlaw red-skins, as well as white-skins,

ummixin’ ’bout in the hills/robbin’ stages, teal-

in’ homes and killin’ weak, defenseless parties.
It’s a wild wonder they didn’t swat you
fellers.” . .

,“They were too busy with you,” responded
Fred, with a smile.

‘V‘Confound their hides, I’ll be‘a mouse in a
sewin’ circle to them, as Old Father Runkells
used to say, if they don’t let me alone.”

“ Don’t you carry any weapons J ovei”

“ See that!” he responded, displayin a hand-
some little revolver which he drew - rom the

bosom of his buckskin overshlrt; “ I can’t miss

a gnat’s eye-winker at ten paces with that little
spitfire. And do you see that ?’—displaying an
irregular-shaped stone about one-third the size
of his fist—‘ that’s the kind ofaweepon that
suits me best. I’ll throw stones ag'iust an in-
volver-shot between Jimtown and Yuba um.
I wish you could ’a’ seen me swat one of. them
Ingins wbile we war tearin’ down thehiil to-

da ," .,

3 We saw iti” exclaimed Ben, “or, at least,
we saw you swin your arm, and saw the red-
skin fall. You d that with astone'?”

i“. With a stone, and splattered his nose all:
over his face,” Jove responded. “ I’ve downed
many a deer with a dornick, and can swat the-
bull’s—eye nine out of ten. 'Uause I war good at
hurlin’ stones,0!d Dad Bunkells called me Jove,
after an old cod r that lived over on some
mountain and to thr0w thunderbolt: at In— '
jdns and b’ars. But I had a rifle with me to-
day, and when I seen the smokles a-cOmin’ I hid
it and lined Out for the cliff.” '

“ Where do you live, J ovei” A

“ Anywhere—everywhere,” was the answer.

“ Hav’n't you any friends—I mean rela-
tives?" ’

“Billions of friends, but no relatives that I
can find.” ' ‘

“ How in the world
“132’ jist thin” pards,” h l i ad I

r s sway. , e~ a n :

“ Years ,ago Joe Runkells was a 1:1an r~ and ’
trapper over on the South 'Fork of the tta.‘
One mornin’ he woke to find a canoe driftin’
down the river t his cabin door. ‘ In it'wara

’ oung painter. Old Joe haul- .
ktbe young painter iambic
bungalow, do it with grub, give its revolver

does it come-you are here

  

   

 
 

4:

 

Old Kit Bandy’s Compromise.

 

 

to play with, and soon had the critter tame as a I
kitten. He got attached to it and kept it, for
nobody eyer come to claim it.

“ Years went flirtin’ by, and the little painter
rowed, and rowed, and hually begun to aint.
tloved Old cc, and Old Joe loved it. Vhen

the painter Was fifteen years old poor Old Joe
died, and the painter took to the hills and ’3
been paintin’ away ever since. I’m that painter,
Keys, and that’s who, what, which and where I

“You see, I don’t knoiv much ’bout who I
am, but Old Joe told me some things ’bout the
kid in the canoe by which I could explain mat-
ters if eyer anybody come along huntin’ a lost
boy. I think, and so’d Old Joe, that the beastly
Ingins made me a homeless wanderer, but,
whether that be so or not, I’ve made a. few of
them wander home with smashed mugs.

“ But, pards, l’m havin’ lots of fun one way
and another, and, if you’d just stay with me one
lone summer we’d have holy swads of frolic.
There’s not much huntin‘ down here now, but if
We‘d go up into the higher mountains we could
u have a whalin’ old time. You see, at this
season the bears, and painters, and deer, and
sheep all go up to the timber-line to raise their
young where there’s no flies or guns to pester
them. Ohl if you want sloshin’ fun, the time to
hunt grizzlies and painters is when they’ve got
their young. They’ll fight then like kioodles
and give a feller the odds evory time. But,
pards, what possessed you. to come up this defile,
anyh0w?”

" We were nooning in the entrance to this de-
file, and came this way to elude discovery by
your ‘ plungersl’ ” Ben answered.

“ Goin’ over to Red N otch?"

“ We are.”

“ Then this defile Ill take you forty-’leven
miles out of our way; It leads clear over into
the land of 0d.”

“ And is there no way getting back to
Black Rock Canyon without retracing our
steps. and running the risk of meeting those red-
skins?"

“ Yes, by; cuttin’ across lots; but there’s a
steep ole hi to climb up and another to climb
down. We can make it by diggin’ in our toes

oin’ up, and rackin’ back on our dew-claws go-

’ down. I’ve made it more’n once.”

“Well, Jove, as you can see, we are not
mountaineers, and if you’ll guide us across and
back to Black Rock, tne favor will be substan-
tiallIy rewarded l”

“ ’11 do it with smiles!” the boy said, “ for I
want to at back into Black Rock in self.
I promi some folks I’d keep a watc on
the movements of the plungsrs along Black
Rock.”

Thus they rode on for some five or six miles
when they turned to the right and anthe
ascent of a ion , rocky slope, and by t etime
the had reach the summit, crossed to the op-

te side, and descended into the pass beyond,
night had set in; and as the valley was wooded
with pine and cedar, it was extremely dark and
difiicult traveling.

They would have one into camp could water
and rass been ha for their animals, but
Little J ove said they would have to ride
gurtlaer before either grass or water could be

oun .

But the oung guide did not say just how far
it was, an when the goal was finally reached,
it was nearly midnight and they found them-
selves at the ed a 0 Black Rock Canyon, not
over five miles m the point where the tourists
had left it!

Ben and Fred were feeling somewhat the
worse for their long, hard ride, and when at
length they thought the hour for rest had come,
Little Jov - dispelled their hopes by informing
them that he meant to leave for a few hours,
and makes. trip down Black Rock Canyon in
hopes of recovering his rifle and ca .

Of course, the others could wage no objec-
tions, and the boy, after cautioning them to be
sharply on their guard, took his departure. Ben
agreed to take the first watch, and Fred rolled
himself in his blanketand was scon sound asleep.
In due time they changed positions, and all too
soon did the night pass and da light flood hill
and canyon. But, worst of all, ittls Jove had
not yet returned, and they were afraid that his
recklessness had got him into some new danger.
At any rate, they could not think of resuming
their journey before he came back, or, at least,
had had plent time in which to make his trip.
So they settl down to wait.

Two hours of precious time thus passed. Ben
Hall grew impatient. He walked out into the

 

canyon. Its gloom was in keeping with his own
thoughts. The Dismal Desert and the face of -

 

his friend, John Kingsley, came up before his
mental vision. He walked on down the canyon,
thinking nothing of danger.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps fell upon his
ears. He turned to find himself confronted by
two villainous-looking ruflians, the click of
whOse revolvers was accompanied by the com
mand:

“ Throw up your hands, or dial”

CHAPTER V.
A LianY CAMP.

BEN HALL was in no sense cowardly, nor was
he a rash hot-head. He was satisfied that the
men confronting him were outlaws. They had
the drop on him and resistance would be certain
death; so he raised his hands as commanded.

One of the bearded scoundrels advanced and
disarmed him, and then said:

“ Come, now, with us.”

“Strangers,” demanded Ben. “ what am I to
understand by this treatment?"

“ Come right along and ax no questions,” was
the unsatisfactory answer, given in no gentle
tones.

Ben quietly walked away with them, a faint
hope in his breast that Fred, or Little Jove,
might discover the predicament into which he
had blundered, and effect his release.

Down the canyon the villains hurried him for
about a mile, and then turned aside into a big-
mouthed rift, pushed through a dense growth
of bushes and emerged into the outlaws’ camp.

Their coming was greeted by four wicked-
looking Indians, at sight of whom a cold shud-
der passed through Ben’s body. The young man
quickly discovered, also, that he was not the
only prisoner in the camp; an old man dressed
in tho garb of a hunter sat a little to one side,
his hands tied together with One end of a lariat,
the other being fastened to a tree.

The Indians gave utterance to an ejaculation
of an rise, while a look of savage delight overL
sprea their hideous faces.

The old hunter glanced up at Ben and ex-
claimed:

h‘;”Hullo, stranger! you‘re into the gravy, too,
0

Before Ben could respond, the sound of hoofs

was heard beyond the bushes, coming up the

 

canyon.

Leaving their prisoners in charge of the red-
skins, the two white outlaws rushed away, in
hopes, no doubt, of securing another victim;
and,a few moments later, the shrill, sharp voice
of a female was heard to out in angr pro-
test, and was followed by a cud, brutal laugh
from the lips of the ruflians.

Then a war of words followed, and. as the
wrangling voices. were approaching, the quoru-
lous voice of the stranger was heard to pipe

out:
“Please, entlemen, I am Sabina Ellen
Bandy, the wfull -wedded wife of Old Kit

Bandy, the Mounts n Detective and fraud! He
deserted my bed and board illegally,.unlawfully
and without cause or provocation, so hei me!
and I am ridin’ through these horrid hi is in
search of the old villain!”

“Madam,” said.one of the outlaws, “your
search is soon to be rew dad, for your recreant
ole hubby, Kit Bandy, is a prisoner in our camp

ht here.”
hen he heard this remark, Ben glanced at
the old man, whose face he saw light up with a
grim smile. He had heard of Kit Bandy. Was
gas old man, indeed, the noted Mountain Detec-
vs

The outlaws , finally returned, leading an
ancient-looking mule upon which was seated a
woman far from youthful in appearance. She was
clad in a well-worn dress of blue calico, a faded
summer shawl, and an old sun-bonnet with
broken stays that almost concealed her wrinkled,
anger-distorted face.

With an ease remarkable for one of her
years, the old woman leaped to the ground as
they entered the camp, and swept the faces of
those before her with a guick, sharp eye.

“ Madam,” said one o the desperadoes. point-
ing to the old man, “do you not recognize in
this gentle man your long-lost, stolen or strayed
husband?”

“ Merciful Father l” exclaimed the old wo-
man, with a disdainful toss of her head, point-
ing a long, bony finger at the prisoner, “that
little weazen - facsd, sun-dried, Roman-nosed
mummy my husband? No! I married a man,
moclk'ers of female helplessness—radars of old
age

A laugh burst from the outlaws’ lips, and
even the old man was observed to smile.

“ Oh! you may all laugh to our hearts’ con-
tentl” Old Sabina fairly hissed from the dark

 

depths of her bonnet; “no respect can be ex
pevted from such Cattle as you that make war
on female weemin and old men in their dotage!
Such men as you war not made in the mold of
the brave and decent!”

The outlaws enjoyed the old woman’s rantings
immensely, and so indulged her in the freedom
of the camp as well as in the use of her sharp,
cutting tongue.

Finally, she deliberately snatched a knife
from an Indian’s girdle, and st00ping, coolly
severed the old prisoner’s bonds, saying

“ Let the old man go on his way that he may
git ’round home in time tosee his youngest great
grand-children afore they die of old age!”

“ Old lady l” exclaimed one of the outlaws
Stepping forward, “you don’t want to get too
meddlesome or you’ll git the rope clapped onto
your paws. That ole scoundrel’s not as anti’lu-
vian but what be war able to kill one 0’ our men,
and Send three others to the shop for repairs he—
fore we could down him! He’s the wildcatness
of three ginerations tied up in his ole wrinkled,
sun-dried hidel”

As the old hunter made no attempt to take ad-
vantage of his liberty, but sat quietly wringing
his numbed fln ers, he was not rebound.

Quietly Ben all had taken in the whole per-
formance, somewhat amazed at the audacity of
the old woman. But he was soon to come in for
a share of attention. The red-skin who stood
guarding him caught sight of his watch-chain
and at once took possession of the timer. Then
his covetous eyes fell upon a little golden three-
linked badge on the lapel of his vest and pro—
ceeded to appropriate that, also.

But, this was more than Ben could stand, and
with a well-directed blow of the list he knocked
the savage down,’ landing him ten feet away.

It “as a rash act, but Ben did not stop to
count the cost.

The savage arose to his feet, half-dazed, the
blood pouring from his nose. Releasin his
tomahawk he advanced to wreak a terrib e re-
venge on the young man, but a sin he went
down to stay down for a while, at east.

But, it was not Ben Hall who struck the blow
this time. It was dealt by an unseen hand! All
heard the blow, and saw the red-skin fall, with
a horrible gash in his face!

A look of consternation was upon the faces of
the prisoners, as well as their captors. The
very silence that followed was an unspoken

que :

“%hence had come that silent, deadly blow!”

Old Sabina was the first to speak. Unwitting-
ly she exclaimed, in a tragic voice:

“ The vengeance of Godl a silent thunderbolt
from Heaven 1”

“ Little J ovel the Boy Devil!” instantly burs.
from the lips of an outlaw on hearing the word
“ thunderbolt.”

“ Thunderbolt! Thunderbolt l” burst from the
lips of the red-skins, and, like hounds freed of
the leash, they darted awn?v into the bushes in
search of the silent slayer .

CHAPTER VI.
A DESPERATE BATTLE.

THAT the red-skin had been stricken down b
a stone hurled by the unerring arm of Litt a
Jove, was as evident now to Ben Hall as to the
red-skins, and the excitement created by the
mention of the youthful mountaineer’s name
convinced the tourist that he wasa livin an
dreaded menace to the lives and comfort 0 the
brigands of the hills.

Fairly wild with the spirit of vengeance the
three Indians rushed off, leaving their two white
confederates with the prisoners. The outlaws,
realizing the danger of the situation, called to
them to come back; nor were their fears without
reason.

In an instant “the concentrated wildcatnes's
of three enerations” asserted itself, for the old
man in uckskin sprung to his feet and landed
upon an outlaw with the fury of a madman,
while Sabina Bandy, with a scream like that of
a panther, leafed upon the back of the other
desperado, an , throwing her arms about his
neck with the grip of a hoa~constr1ctor, bore him
to the ground. '

As the outlaw want down he threw up his re-
volver and endeavored to Shoot the tigress, but
1IllendHall deftly wrenched the weapon from his

an .

This row recalled the three excited red~skins,
but they did not return alone, for Fred Weston
and Little Jove were at their heels] ’

Then a short, sharp, deadly conflict ensued.
A shot from Ben Hall’s revolver settled Old
Sabina’s antagonist. The old hunter downed
his man with a cracked skull. A savage tol-

 

lapsed at the hand of Little Jove, when the other

  

 

 

 

~--‘». ._ w-,'~_...

 

 
 

l

Old Kit Randy’s Compromise.

.5

 

 

  

 

up I.‘

' two took to their heels and gained the cover of
the woods, both severely wounded.

The whites Were in possession of the camp, but

, their victory had not been a bloodless one.
Fred Weston lay unconscious and bleeding from
a wound on the head. A bullet had grazed Old
Sabina’s scalp, and it was bleeding freely. The
old hunter had received a flesh wound. Only
Ben and Little Jove had come out of the light
unharmed.

Sabina Bandy took off her bonnet and bound
a handkerchief around her bleeding head. Little

. Jove tied a bandage around the wounded arm of
the old hunter, while Ben Hal! knelt by the
prostrate form of Fred Weston.

WhenSabina had tied up her head and re-
laoed her bonnet. she turned to the man in
uckskin and exclaimed:

“ Old Tom Rattler! Wildcats of three genera-

tions, shake !"

“By the great Rosycrusiansl Mrs. Bandy
you’re the same ole whirlwind in petticoats, and
the Red River Epidemic greets you with joy and
a blamed sore arm 1” i

' “ You ole tads seem to know each other,” ob-
served Little Jove, approaching the old pair.

, ; __ “ Yes, we’ve met before, we have,” averred

_ ;; . Sabina.

‘ i"  v “ Well. for ole folks you fight like a brace of

 “1 ' . ti are up in the timber-belt,” the boy added.

 Z  “‘l never saw an ole woman whizz about so like
a belted hornet. And so, you two are Tom
Rattlei' and Mrs. Kit Bandy, hey?" demanded
Little Jove.

\ “ Them’s me, boy!” answered Tom, “ and
right now I want to say you‘re a lillv-lipped
hummer o’ a thunderbolt, fir a kid. .You
plunked that dornick into that red-skin’s mug to
.a dot. I tell' ye this gang 0’ cut-throats run
1g’inst a holy sarcumstance, didn’t they? They
too? zge in for that old rip~snorter, Kit Bandy,
an —

“ Holy mist!” exclaimed Jove. “it’s a good
thing you wasn’t Old Kit or you’d been roasted

. betWeen two fires!”

“Say, you little brat!" exclaimed Sabina,

‘ turning indignantly upon the boy. “ don’t drap

, any insinuations ’round here ’r you’ll git slapped

, to sleep!” I

 “ Be pardon, grandma!" Jove said, apolo‘
getical y; “but to tell you the honest truth, I
don’t believe {on are any more a woman ,than I
.am a grizzly far.” , y ‘

, “ You don’t, eh? ‘ Well, I wonder what I am!
a tigess? a byenai abird o’ aradise? a—-”-

I »“ o, armamminterru he the boy.

Tom and Sabina both aughed.

r“ Boy, you’re the first stranger that ever pene-
trated my disguise as a female character,” said
Sabina, and n a moment elf went bonnet
‘zsbawl and dress, and the lithe figure of lchabod
Flea stood before them, clad in a neat suit of

» , ,gray jeans! ~

At this moment an exclamation from Ben
Hall’s lips called attention to where he was bend-

. ing over the form of Fred Weston. '

“Stranger,” asked Old ‘Tom, “is he badly
hurt?” ‘ " * I

‘ “I‘m afraid poor Fred has been mortally
wounded," answered Ben; “he is unconsciqus

from a terrible blow on the hen ."

Old Rattler looked atlthe wound and shook his
head, saying: , ‘ I

= ‘f ve see’d many like it, stranger; some got

even and some god out. ‘There might be one
 in ten i he could have proper treatment

, before inflammation sets in. Ichabod, what’s

 your opinion?” _ 7 y ‘

, ' - ,“Barne as yourS.” answered Flea; “a doctor
_ can‘t bogot short of Red Notch. He might live

. to get there if you start at once, land‘one of us

go onnhead and bravo the doctor come‘nnd meet'

I V I y the word, and my mule and I’llget to

the camp on the antelope run. I’m on my way

there,a Izhow.” ,.
ha” i” urged Old Tom. “ and brings!

n
_ ' “Go,
[doctor'andso e'kind 0’ an ambulance. ‘We’ll
canyon if

  
 
  
   
  
  
  
 
  
  
   
   
     
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
    
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
   
   
  
 
  
  

 
 

3

 
  
 
 

    

    

 «inepttl‘ie outfit somewhar up the in
‘j the cussed red-rinds and outlaws don t git away-
T. with us all.” 7 ‘ , "
.Ichahodb mounted his mule and started for

   

 
 

  
 

BedN  _
:Azlit'ei' was constructed, of poles and Indian
mile“, [and  insensible man was placed

charm . , i . . . a
Little Jove carried Tom’s rifle, which he had

stoveredgand a couple ipf other guns on tnrexl

‘from th enemy. . Behind Tom grasped t e lit-

egrand he  ' ' an. ' /

1p at‘the point?! erb the tourists had e nt a
organs ni lit the halted until their race

 
 
  

     
       
     

   

 
   

 
    

 

flowed through the valley and bathed the wound-
ed man’s face and moistened his feverish lips
with the cool liquid. Still he remained uncon-
scious, and as the hours passed a strange pallor
settled upon his face and his feeble moanings
Ceased.

The symptoms were alarming. They placed
the litter upon the ground, and Ben examined
his friend’s pulse. He could feel no movement.
He placed his hand over his heart. It had ceased
to beat!

“ My God!” burst in agony from young Hall’s
lips; “poor Fred Weston is dead! Uh, my
friend—my friend!” he moaned in his poignant
distress. - -

 

CHAPTER Vll.
A sonnmv scnun.

BEN HALL's heart was wrung with anguish
and tears filled his eyes as he continued kneeling
by the lifeless body of his boyhood comrade.

Finally he arose to his feet, covered the
motionless form with a blanket, and began pac-
ing to and fro in speechless grief. Old Tom and
Little Jove stood silent and sorrowful and gazed
around them with misty eyes.

Whata sad ending to what was looked for-
ward to as a season of pleasure! Fred Weston
dead! John Kingsley dead! and it was for
Ben to break the awful news to the friends of

each.

Finally Old Tongapproached Ben and said:

“Pard. it’s best not to tarry too long: what
shall we do?" .

“ My friend must be buried; but how are we
to dig a grave?” Ben asked, his voice half-
choked. ‘ ,

Little Jove heard the young man's query and

spoke:

“ Ben, I know Where there’s’a pick and shovel
not far from here that some prospectors lost or
left. 3 bid them away, and will go and bring
them. I , '

The boy at once departed. Old Tom kept a
lookout for enemies, and Ben watched by the
body of his friend. i

In an hour Jove returned with t pick and
spade, and they began the task 0 ’ digging a
grave in the i ard. stony earth.

The spot selected for the grave was in a little
opening among some bushes that grew at the
base of a great, rugged. frowning bluff on the
west side of the canyon.

» While Old Tom and Ben were digging, Little
Jove was on the Watch for danger. ,

.Faithfully the two men worked with pick and‘
shovel, and it was growing dusk when a grave
Egg three‘feet deep was completed ready for the.

ya

Rattler carefully wrapped the blanket around
Elie form, for that was all,the ccflin it was to

ave. '- - .

Tenderly they lowered the body into the
graive, then, as Old Tom'took up the spade, Ben
sa :
9‘ Poor Fred! He little dreamed of a grave in
the lonely mountains, ,and that, too, without
Christian service—no song—no prayer—”

' His wbrds were cut short by a sound that
startled both him and the old hunter. It was
the sound of a voice singing in a 10W, tender
strain that might have come from the lips of an
invisible angel! , ‘

The two men glanced around them. In the
tw1ligbt shadovvs at the edge of the bushes be-
fore them, they heheld two dark-robed forms
standing. One was a small, lithe form, . the
other a head taller and broad-shouldered. The
faces of both were vailed. , , ._

From the lips of the slender figure were. issu-
ing these sweet strains of'music in which the
deep, soft base of the other was mingled as they
tenderly syllabled in the sweetest me‘ody the
besu'iful hymn: V « .

" Nearer my God to Thee! nearer to Thee!"

Instinctively Ben Hall and Old Tom Rattler
.bared their heads and stood as if rooted to the
spot, their breasts filled with profound emotion,

and their minds wandering in the vagueness of
‘adream. ‘ - ‘
I it was a strange, solemn, impressive scene.
 rugged."frownlng acclivity, the open grave
with its silent litenant, the mysterious robed
ti 1 res,fithe uncovered and bowed heads of the
t mane—all enveloped in the» deepening
twilight shadowsyand, pervaded by .no sound
is” the low.- pleintive. sinking of the un-
nowu.- n i  i a 1 ,

Motionless Ben and Old, Tom Rattler stood
until the last note had fallen from the hood

 

swred...ese‘l ‘tookin‘
and then the geos‘gned.
Wither  Pr 'mbz  that

   

 

the mesmerlc influence of an invisible power. 1 __ "

singers’ lips; and then. When .theytsawthe‘fiih‘edg
figures kneel down, they, too’, knelt as it under: ’

 

 

o

In a tone that was scarcely audible. the two
men heard a deep and earnest prayer offered up
to the Giver of Life in behalf of the dead and
the sorrowing friends, by the robed figure. it
was a prayer so ferVent. so touching, that it
evoked a fervent “ Amen ” from the lips of Tom
Rattler.

When he had finished his rayer, the stranger
arose, and advancing to t e side of the open
grave, and extending his hand, said, as he drop-
ped from his fingers a few ounces of dirt into the
grave:

“ Earth to earth, dust to dust. ashes to ashes;
Amen l” and turning to Tom and Ben‘continued:
“Strangers, may God be with you in your trou-
bles and your perils!"

Having thus spoken, he turned and disappear-
ed in the shadows of the bushe '. his companion
following; but as the latter turned, the veil that
concealed the face was caught on a twig and
was drawn aside, and despite the gathering
glorim, both men saw the profile 0 a face
against a dark background—a face white as
marble and perfect in its youthful beauty—the
face of a young girl!

An instant it was gone from sight, but not
from the memory of those two d unfounded men.

“ By the great Rosycrusians l” exclaimed Old
Tom, in a tone that almost sounded profane in
that hallowed silence; “is this all a fact? or are
we dreamin’, Ben?” »

Ben Hall brushed his hand across his brow,
replaced hisdiat upon his head, and in a voice
that indium! deep emotion, replied: ,

“ Surely we are not dreaming? It must be
reality.” ’ .

“ lt ’pears mysterious, ard,” Old Tom said,
“ but we both saw them; i ’s stern reality."

“ W here, Tom, is to be the end of—”

He did not finish the sentence, for at this mo-
ment Little Jove came running towhere they
stood, and excitedly exclaimed: ,

“ Run, men! to your horses! A bull regiment r
o’ outlaws and Ingins are comin’ lickety-brindle,
and all on hossback !” .

The thunder of the horses’ hoofs could be
plainly heard, and Old Tern, dropping the spadi-,
exclaimed:

“Come, Ben! They won’t hurt the body of
your dead friend i” ‘

.Ben ‘was reluctant to leave the grave unfilled, .
ihiithfiliiis own life .depended upon immediate

I l

n a few moments the three were in the
saddle, Tom mounted upon Weston’s horse and
Little Jove upon the one he had captured from
the renegade.

. When they dashed away, the outlaws were in
sight, and a demoniac yell from the freebooters’
lips announced that the chase was on. ,4 ’
. ' With Little Jove to l, d. the pursued men
were enabled to make good speed and easily
kept beyond reach of the foe. and the darker it
grew the more favorable it was for the fugi-

ves.

But the enemy were determined. They had
suffered so severely the past two days at the
hands of Little J0ve and his friends that they
had massed their forces and set out, resolved
upon forever-ridding their haunts of that pestiy
ferous boy and his associates. . ‘ ‘

The chase continued until ' past midnight, .
when the three were met by 10th Flea, a
doctrr‘, and a score of armed miners on the way
down the canyon. ' '

Quickly the party formed to received the out-
laws, and one broadside from a score of rifles
sent-th
the hills, and the pursuit had ended. .

The party turned about and wended their
way back to Red Notch, where they arrived at

In dismounting from his horse in front cf. *he
hotel. Ben Hall fell to the ground. over mine
with sheer exhaustion. He Was carried into the
hotel and put to bed, and soon after, became
wholly unconscious. ' x ' .

“The doctor was sent for, and afterleamin
the cause of his. prostration— the etraintbrougg
which he had passed—the man of medicine mid:

“He‘s in a bad shape. and if brain fever
doesn’t result [’11 be happily surprised.” , /

And» the doctor was right. For ithree weeks
Ben Hall kept to his bed, audit was two more

weeks‘after'be'was up sermons had regained

a

1168..

neuron. '_ ' ' i . -
Littlehve canisarmndeveryf ids ,
.seelthim. and from him :Bea learned “ - " "

   

“9 pl‘w‘” 1” ma'hd- When assure,
  0309, reverted 

  

e murderous gang flying away down into v '

his wanted strength « But, through all his nick‘- ,.
ted Old Tom Rattler remainedat' F -
his a splendid nurse and cheerful,  :2

h.

Wes‘ton’s grew» had been filled 'bv some noise-"1’!  

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terious people who had officiated at the burial
on that memorable evening in Black Rock Can-
yon. .
Soon after having been taken sick, Ben had
written Edith Kingsley of hwr brother’s death
and hail anxiously awaited a reply, but not a
line or word did he receive. While he thought
this silence strange, he did not for a moment
forego the resolution to make a search for
“Silent llonor,” procure John Kingsley’s gold,
and give it to his sister, if such a thing were
possible.

So, as soon as he was able to go about, he put
a blue badge—a tin ] blue ribbon——on the lapel
of his coat and started out on his mission in
Red Notch. He made it a point to meet every
man in camp; but not a man recognized the
badge! If “Silent Honor” was in Red Notch,
{18 had, upon reflection, concluded to remain si-
ent.

But, nothing daunted, Ben resolved to prose-
cute his search in other camps.

CHAPTER Vili.
EXCITEMENT IN COMPROMISE CAMP.

A LIGHT spring wagon with a canopy top,
three seats, and drawn by a span of sorrel
mules, was rattling along Neutral Creek in the
direction of Camp Compromise, late in the
afternoon of an early September day. it was
the mail-hack running between Rocky Run
mining-camp, by way of Compromise Camp,
and a point s‘ixty miles south.

In the vehicle were two men—the driver and
a. passenger. The former was known as Star-
Route Sam, at man of fifty, with something of a
reputation as a story-teller, and who boasted of
the distinction of having been held up more
times by road-agents than any mail~route J ehu
in the West.

Sam’s passenger occupied the middle seat and
was bound for Compromise Camp. He was a man
well along in years, tall and angular With short-
cropped beard and long iron-gray hair. He was
dressed in a suit of black that was glossy and
almost threadbare from long-continued service.

 

His coat'wasa Prince Albert in style, and his '

hat a narrow-rimmed derby, sweat-stained
around the band. A pair of gold-bowed spec-
tacles with big lenses strided his neseund gavo
him a sort of wise and judicial apps .rance.

As the hack swept around the spur of a ridge
impinging upon the valley, Camp Compromise
appeared in eight about two miles before them.

“There, judge l” exclaimed Star- Route Sam,
pointing With his whip, ‘.‘ behold the famous
Camp Compromise!" ,

“Just so,” responded the old ssenger who
had given Sam his name as Judge erry Sampson
Trump, of Leadville; “I am glad to see it so
near. Quite a fine locatiOn, but I Wonder why
they called it Compromise?"

Didn’t you ever hear the history 0‘ that place, i ’d

jud ?” Sum asked in apparent surprise.
“fifi'ever!” was the judge’s assurance.
“ Wal, I’ll be darned! I thought everybody’d

, heard it, but I tell ye it’s a good one. Do you

see that rip in the mountains comin’ down from
the nor'westi and another comin’ down from the
nor’easti’,’
The judge answered in the affirmative.
“ Wal,” Sam went on, “ Hat Creek runs dowu
the one and Bonnet Creek the t'othel‘. They meet
ust where the "camp is and form Neutral Creek.
t was two years ago thht Jim Kelly and a party

'of some twenty men struck the headwaters of

Bonnet Creek and follered down the stream on a
rospectin’ tramp. ’Bout the same time J aok
ame and a party struck the headwaters oi? Hat

Creek and came down that run on the same busi-

ness. N either party knowed of the other’s

presence until they come other where the two
creeks unite. Now, it so appcned that each
grt y struck pay dirt in sight of, each other on
a two streams.
“ Claims war at once located and a spirit of

'rrivalry at once sprung up between the two par- ,

ties, and as they war mosth ready for a row, it
grow into hostilities. T e Bonnet Crockers
never lost an Opportunity to throw out in-
sults and challenges to the Hat Creekors. The
latter called the other’s camp Sodom, and they
retaliated by calling the other camp Gomorry,
and by them names they stttled down to busi-
ness. ' ‘ ’

“ thei- minersand bums come in and took up
with whichever side they thought would pay the
best, or war thetoug est. I‘rcir numerical
strength kept 'bout oven, and the rivalry and
humanities grew aocordin’. " , v

“Pisz and rifle practice on each other-’s

‘ anatomy mzocoasioually indulged in. Broken-

hosds war oven on to . A Bonnet Creek didn’t

- »f dust set a lightnear h s windoror a. HatCreek’d

 

, Mayor Jack Gama

\

Old Kit Bandy’s Compromise.

‘1 shoot it out; and if. a Hat Creek got so stuck up

as to wash his shirt and hang it out to dry, the
Bonnet Creeks’d fill it so full of holes it Wouldn‘t
hold graybacks. .
“ Although the business didn’t warrant the ex-
eDSe, each side had to have a saloon of its own.
I‘hey couldn’t fraternize even in one saloon with-
out a funeral or twi) next day. It wasn’t spite
nor revenge that actuated them, but pure un-
adulterutcd cussedness-—old royal, high-jink fun,
they called it. , A

“ One Sunday a Gomorryite went down to the
creek to take a bath. That war more than
Sodom could tolerate, and they rushed down on
the man in a body determined to punish him for
his vanity. Goiiiorry was aroused and swooped
down to meet their rivals. A general free-tor-
all flght wassoon ragin’ in the creek and on the
banks; and while they war thus engaged ’bout
forty lngins sailed down from the hills and per-
ceded to wipe out the hull caboodle.

“ The result was the fool miners quit flghtin’
each other and made common cause ’gainst the
red-skins and licked them out; but a dozen or
more war killed or wounded before the fight was

over.

i “ That Ingin attack was an eye-opener to the
two camps, and they finally agreed to bury the
hatchet and their dead, and call a meeting to
organize for mutual protection ’g’inst the red-
skins and Mountain Sharks~the latter bein’ a
gang of outlaws that had been layin’ heavy
tribute on isolated camps. .

“ The meetin’ war held, and [Compromise
agreed on as the name of the camp. Jack Game
war elected mayor, and thar’s no better man in
Colorado than that same ‘ Hi h Jack,’ as he‘s
sometimes called. Jack wara at Cracker, so
one Bob Mason, a Bonnet Creeker, was elected
marshal, 50’s to even up.

” Then they must have a. City Hall, and up
went a big, long, log buildin’ on the point be-
twer-n the two creeks. Next they had a, post-
office established. That’s located in the City
Hall, and is run by Pat Shinn, a jolly Irishman,
who lost his leg in the flghtwith the ngins.

“ But, judge, in spite 0’ all this, that spirit 0’
rivalry still exists, though in a mild and harm-
less way. “If a new-comer drops dowu on the
camp and stops with the Bonnet Crackers their
boast of superior hosSpitality will be heard for a
week. Oh, I tell you they’re a pictur ue gang
as ever you struck, and— Whoa! ant to
ride. Billy?" . . ‘

The last words were addressed to little .old
miner who came out of the bushes with a gun on
his shoulder. He was one of the unique charac-
ters of Compromise Camp, who preferred a gun
to a pick or shovel, and a drink of “ brain-fog ”
to a cup of water. _

“ If you please, Sam’l, I’ll ride With you,”-he
replied, and climbed into the seat with the
r ver.

“ Billy, this is Judge Trump, of Leadville,”
said Sam, introducing the men; “he’sacandi-
date for Congress and ’s goin’ to make a speech
in Compromise to-night."

“Bully for you, judge l”.exclaimed Billy, ex-
tending his hand to the old, spectacled passen-

or; "by Joel Compromise’s havin’ a. ’way-up

com with big guns nowadays.”

“ Why? somebody at the campi”,askcd Sam.

“lshould lament there war,” answsred the
miner; “ yesterday there war two arrivals. One
was a young fellei‘, handsome and stylish, and
his name’s John Chilton. The other’s a tall man
and ’bout Sixt, years old, and he’s a bummer, I
tell ya! They re both stogpin’ with the Bonnet
Crooks and them blame fools are fairly wild,
and ’ve been yellin’across to as Hat Crackers to
trump their big card. By Joel if the judge here
’1! stop on our side we‘ll trump ’em, surel But
who d'ye suppose their guest—the ole long, lank
one is?” , ‘ '
, “ Couldn’t guess in a month 0' Sundays?" an-
swered Sam.

“ No one,” answered 3:12;. “ but the great
Mountain Deetective, Old t Bandy!” , ,

“ Jeo-rusaleml‘ you don’t say?” exclaimed

am. \ v
“ Who did you say it was!" asked Judge
Trump, leaning forward in bi! seat, eager to
hear aright. ' .
" Kit Bandy, the great Mountain Dcetective i”
re eatedBilly. r
' ’Umphl 1 min be gladto meet him.”
And the lodge dropped back into his seat, a
smile upon is ace. ‘
CHAPTER IX.
JUDGE mun? pPEAXS. 1? v '
J ones: Jerry Sampson Trump, pod on the
Hat Creek side of Compromise. argue-tot

    

The news oi his arrival, of his being; acamli- ,
! date for Congress, and, that he was to speak that/
night in the City Hall ran like wild-fire through
the camp.

In less than an hour the judge had shaken
hands with every man in the place. All Bonnet
Creek rushed over to the mayon’s cabin to see
the candidate and get a swng of Hat Creek
“brain fog,” at his expense. They brought
along their guests, John Chilton. and the noted
old detective, Kit Bandy, both of whom were in~
troduced to Trump.

Qld Kit was already feeling prettij ful in
consequence of the hospitality of the onnet
Creekers, and, grasping the judge’s hand, ex-
claimed: « ‘f a.

“ J edge, I’m delighted to meet you, and shake - 1
your judicial aw.” "

“Thanks, r. Bandy; you honor me,” the  
ju’dge responded. ‘7' 

After the reception at the mayor’s cabin was r: .,
over, arran ements were made for the speaking
at the City all.

Mayor Game escorted the judge to the lnce
of meeting shortly after the lights were lit. hey
found the entire camp absernbled there in the
best of spirits, and some with the poorest spirits
in them. Kit Bandy and one Mike Crogan Were  .,
decidedly mellow and overflowing with exuber— .; '
ance of spirit. in "

Mayor Game, by virtue of his oficial position, _. _,
presided, and in a neat little speech introduced . j. ,
Jud e Trump, who, rising, said: 

“ r. ChairrIIan,vand miners of Compromise u: .
Campz-As you already knOw, I am here to ad .4?
dress you on the political topics of the day as an ‘ 
independent reform candidate for a seat in the
Lower House of the National Congress. , 5

“ Three years ago I held the honorable posi-
tion or police judge in a flourishing city in Kan-
sas, but when rohlbitiOu and the hot winds
came sweeping ike twin destroyers nor that ,-
glorious State at one and the same time, t was " g... ‘
more than a patriotic, liberty-loving man could V  "
stand; so' I resigned my judgeship an movctd
over into Colorado, where freedom lugs her
banner from every mountain-peak, and personal
liberty asserts its mild dominion unhampered
by ion —haired men and short-haired women in
the vi lages. (Applause, during which time
Mike Crogan took a drink from a big bottle).

“ But gentlemen, the invader is flowing over
the border into your beloVed Centennial State,
and unless we rise in our might and assert our
manhood and power at the ballot-box, it will
not be two years until plain water with all its
organic impurities will be the only liquid you’ll
have to quench your thirst an nerve your
spirit and manhood.

“I stand for personal liberty, free speech,
free press—the wine—press as well as the printing l .
press (loud applause). , e

“ I am opposed to female suffrage, though I
like the women; but, I do not think they are.
mentally capable of understanding the import-
once of the ballot and economic questions, like
we men. (Applause) ' .3

“ HOmG,-in the sweet sanctity of home, is wo- ' j'
man’s 8 here. If she should get the ballot, agri— ’ ‘
cultured be ruined. Grape-growing, barle ,
and rye, and corn-culture, would‘die out. '1‘ a
majestic smoke-stacks of breweries and distil-
leri'es,‘ now pointing prOudly and diy to-.
ward heaven all over our glorious no inn, would
cease to smoke, and instead of the roar of- their
furnace fires we’d hear the wheezin’ and groan-
in’ of, church organs. Disease and pestilence ’
will stalk through the mining-cam of these
mountains, because that which susta as life here» '
will be no more.‘

“There’s another evil the Hunt warriors of‘
the ballot-b0: must fight, an that’s Wall rest , ,
and their agents ‘athashington. Those t rant: l
money-kings must bodethronedl 0! every four , f ‘-
dollars’ worth of gold you man dig from the "
bowels of old earth, three of them find. their wa’y;
into the wallets of them kings and their agents, '
who drink changiagno and eat zOrgls suppers.
and sometimes is " (Criespf “Good l”)' ‘ and "
then away across. the continentby the ongesi'w‘, ,
route, goes a funeral-train. eating and drink-“-
ing an mournin at our expense and wat-
ing more good iquors than would keep me;
and Compromise out / of the clutches o! 
miasma 101- a year. These wrongs must ‘
rightsd b the voters. You cannot expect . . o. , '*
lief from et'wo old parties. They’reucom3w  
as 80%»): and Gomorrah were, (roarsof laughter)
and is the Mom party to which you mutt:
look forgollef from robbery and slavery. 1
‘ “ And“ there’s the railmndo bulltat’flrivem-
mmuox [use toaccommodate a few righjlmim

 

 

 

  
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
 
   
   
   
  
  
  
 

 

    
     
       
   
   
     
       
     
       
   
       
         
     
    
  
    

      
  
 
 

   
   
  
   
  
  
  

  
  
  
    

   
  
     
     
 
   
  
 

    
  
   
   

 
 

      
     

 

 

Men-of ‘ promise. where’s our ’ l 
thereon)? reason why the  

 

    

   
      
    
        
      
        
       
      
 
      
          
           
 
       
      
     
      
      
     
        
    
        
    
      
      
     
   
      
     
 

 

.7 '\—-.u

1’ wam Qaptal
j , r'We are here to take Mayor Game away with us.
- , - to ~18” the 11.0110” truth. We do not' intend to

,_ I», It ,

"  old, Kit Bandy’s

 

 

snorting up and down this beautiful valley car-

1' ing your rich ores to the mills and smelters?

es, there is a reason why; you don’t stand in

with Wall street and the Washington Satrnpsl
Mules and cayuses are good enough conveyances
for Compromise and the outlying camps. There
will be no railroad for you until you assert your
manhood. at the ballot—box and justice is
proclaimed from every mountain peak.” (Ap-
pluuse.)

Thus the judge continued for two hours, being
frequently Interrupted by vociferous a plause
with which was mingled the “ gl-lugg Jug-gl-
lug” of some miner drinking from a bottle.
Finally the judge wound up by saying:

“I have a book here that I want every man
who will pledge me his support to sign it he can
write, and them that can't, I’ll sign for them
and they can make their cross. 1 bone that
every freedom-[Ming man will feel free to
si 11. ’

gHe took from his'pocketasmall blank-bonk
and fountain-pen and placed them upon the
table by which Jack Game was sitting.

The mayor was the first to sign with all the
flourish of a John Hancock and legibility of a
tarantula’s track.

Then followed a general scramble to sign the

old reformer’s paper. A few signed with “ his

mark,” some with great difficulty. some in a

fair business hand, and two or three were too

drunk to sign at all.

When all who Wished had put down their
names Judge Trump thanked them, and with
an air 01 satisfaction placed the book and pen in
his pocket.

Then the meeting broke up. ' ‘

The judge returned with the mayor to his
cabin.

“ A aretty successful! meeting, judge.” ob-
served ame, as the two sat down for a chat be-
fore retiring.

“ I am well pleased,” responded Trump. _ .

Thus they conversed for about ten minutes
when there came a rap on the door.

“ Come in l” called out Game,'supposing it was
a miner.

The door opened and the tall form of Kit
Bandy stepped into the room, and, as he did so,
the light streaming out through the Open door
revealed the presence of tow or three horsemen
drawn up before the entrance.

“Oh! excuse me, Mr. Bandyl” said Game,
apologetically;"‘ I supposed it Was one of the
miners. But, who are those horsemen out
there?” / '

“ They are mounted police,” replied the detec-
tive, “ and I am really sorry, Mr. Game, to tell
you that I am here to arrest you. You will

ave to go with us at once.”

Before Game could reply, so thunderstruck
was he by this announcement of the old detec-
tive, a bi , burly, bearded man with a pair of
huge revo vers hanging at his hips strode into
glide cabin and took a position at the detective’s

8.

Judge Trump arose, and, stepping across the
room, closed the heavy door and bolted it as
000 as though he were master of the place.

“ rrest me?” Gama found speech to exclaim;
“ for what?” ‘

“You’re wanted by the State authorities.

. They’ll answer your question. You get ready

. to go With us at once,” was the answer the as-
tonished mayor received.

‘ ~ “Mr. Bandy,” spoke up Judge Trump,” asa
lawyer and ajudge, I’ve .had some experience
and gained some knowledge of criminal affairs.
.If you’ve a warrant for the mayor’s arrest pro-
duce it, and it you haven‘t he can resist.” ,

’ “Here’s our warrants,” said the. big, burly
man, tapping his revolvers in a significant man-

ner. . '
“ I’m guilty of no crime ” declared the mayor,
4 with emphasis, “ and shall resist being arrested.
I’ll arouse the camp and—” I g
,“ Don’t do an thing of thekind.” warned. the
old detective. ‘ You’re fooling with the wron
‘ man, Me. or Game, and, since you are dis

1 to resist it Bandy, I might as well let- the cat

out of the bag right here and nbw by confessing
that I am-not Kit Bandy, the Mountain Detec-
tive,#ut a much better and far more dangerous
man I ‘ - ~ ,

“ Oh! you’re not Bandy, eh ?” exclaimed Judge
an“ amt “more W 

. . etc 3 cl mu u
six—foot  '  5 g p

‘ N0. Ill”? led the man, “ I am not, but I

in J eSbarke, the Mountain Outlaw!

‘ harm him. Profit) Compromise comes down

 withme orhisrelease.‘ We’ve been

i

,age seemed to be the courage of a madman.

.' V The outlaws outside, mistrusting me

 

.\.-

Compromise.

 

 

 

SO busy that we could not pay our respects to
this camp before, and hope we‘ll be pardoned
for seeming neglect.”

“ How much boodle do you want?" asked the
old judge, shoving his hands deeper into his

ckets.

“ More than you‘ve got,” was the answer; but,
scarcely bad the self-confessed desperado uttered
the last word when he and his companion found
themseIVes gazmg into the black mouths of a
pair of big derringers in the extended hands of
the old 'udge. '

“Don t move a muscle, gents!” the Congres-
sional candidate said, firmly, his eyes blazing
with a sudden burst of deadly fire. “ for, to let
the feline out of the bag, I am Kit Bandy the
Mountain Detectivol”

CHAPTER X.
THE TRAPPER TRAPPED.

1r Mayor J uck Game had been surprised when
the reputed Kit Bandy threw off his disguise and
proclaimed his true character as Captain Sharkc,
the outlaw the robber chief and his confederate
were doubly surpriied when Judge Trump un-
masked, and the real Kit Bandy proclaimed his
presence. They demanded no further evidence
of his being other than Bandy. The sudden
change in the Old “candidate’s” demeanor, the.
firm-set jaws, the dilated nostrils, the blazing
eyes and the big-mouthed derringers were proof
enough, at least, to satisfy the villains that they
were at the mercy of a dauntle5s man. The out-
law had been trapped, as it were, by himsclf—a
fact more mortifying to the outlaw than the loss
of 1 dozen mail-coaches. '

‘or several moments the four men stood mo-
tionless, silent as stone images. The outlaws
did not dare move a hand toward- a weapon
through fear of those deadly tubes; but, finally,
Captain Sharks Ventured to turn his eyes toward
the barred door with a despairing look.

“‘Oh, you’re my mutton, gents!” Kit Bandy
warned: “the next time you lay Kit Bandy
you’ll knew how to do it—thelkind o’ stuff to
put up! I don’t keer if you have a gang 0’
friends outside; so you’d as well hand over your
shootin’-toola to the mayor l” .

“ F001! Do you expect to defy me and thirty
desperate men?” Captain Sharks found Speech
to demand with a sickly attempt at defiance.

“I do, by the ram’s horn o’Joshua! That’s
the kind of an old fool I am! Mayor, relieve
the Mountain Sharks of their weapons of war l”

The mayor was astounded by the audacity of
the old detective. In the presence‘of a. band
of desperadoes impatiently waiting outside, with
nothing but the barred door between them, and
the whole camp wrapped in slumber, his cour-

But, Game, himself, was a brave man. and since
the old detective had been forced to disclose his J
real self to thwart the outlaws in their attempt
to take him—Game—a prisoner, be resolved to
take his chances with the old man whatever the
result, and so advanced to relieve Sharke’s burly'
companion of his Weapons. ‘

The outlaw, observing his movements, knew
the supreme moment for action had come, and,
quick as a flash. grabbed his revolver, but be-
fore it was fairly out of his belt, Bundy’s pistol
rung *out with a loud. stunning report, and the
villain sunk dewn without a moan, his revolver
falling at Game‘s feet.

Captain Sharke recoilezl a step or two. snarl-
ing out an execration, his face assuming a death-
like pallor. ‘

Immediately after the shot there came a rap
on the door anda voice outside demanded:

“ W hat’s wrong in there, captain l” .

“ Burst down-” Sharke attempted #0 reply,
button] the two words were out 'of his mouth
when . ayor Game rapped him on the head with
the dead man’s big revolver and brought ‘him
down, half-stunned. “to the floor.

In a twinkling. Old Kit had produced a pair
of steel- handcuffs from a rear last of his
Prince Albert, and with deft c rity clapped
them upon the outlaw’s wris ; then turning, he
blowout the light and the oom was in dark-
ness.

was ‘oing wrong inside, demanded that the
door e opened.

No reeponsewas made by Kit or Game.

A few minutes eased, then a head a peered
atthe little open w dew at the side of the cabin,
and a voice asked: ,

“ What‘s this mean in here?" _ ‘

A groan from the lips of t e reviving robber:
captain was the only answer given. \

‘ If vou don‘t open the door, 4» e'll smash it
down 1" after another minute’s silence. ~

 

“Git away from that Winder, you varlct, or, V

____.——J

you’ll git your head mashed!” Kit Bandy

warned.

The head quickly disappeared. Another si-
lence prevailed, which was at length succeeded
by a crash against the door that shook the whole
cabin. .

However, the door withstood the shock, and
before the blow could be repeated, Old Kit took
One of the outlaw’s big revolvers and fired three
shots in rapid succession through the panels.
By the sounds of excitement that followed, be
was satisfied that the shots had taken ell'ect.

Still the camp slept on, and yet the only hope
for Kit Bandy and the mayor was in keeping
the now incensed foe at bay until the miners
should come to their rescue.

Silently they awaited further demoristrations,
for the attempt to force the door was not re—

a .
peThey had no fears of the villains firing in-
to the cabin on account of their own leader
being there.

Several minutes passed; then a trampling
of horses’ feet was heard in front of the
cabin.

Mayor Game peered out through a crack in
the wall, and then exclaimed:

, “ The camp’s gettin’ waked up! I see lights
on this side and the B0nnet Creek side, too.
We’ll soon be out of this!”

But scarcely had he spoken than a yelling,
mingled with the cluttering of boots and the fir~
ing of revozvers, burst forth upon tie night.
Up and down the streets, on both sides of the

creek, galloped the outlaws like so many demons

escaped from perdition. '

Again Jack Game peered out. Every light
had disappeared. The object of the outlaws’
raid had been accomplished. The camp had
been terrorized and «iii ve-n into hiding.

Back to the cabin of the mayor came the out-
law 5; and now what next?

It took but a few minutes to decide. A
thread of light shone through a crack in the
rear of the cabin, and the odor of burning pine
pervaded the room. The deepcradoes had fired
thobuil :ing in the rear.

It was but‘a quession of a few minutes with
the men insidP. Their only chance for escape
would be through the open door. A Score and
a half of outlaws with drewu revolvers formed
in front of the building to receive them.

, cm. P'l‘ER XI.
MOMENTS OF SUPREME SCSPENSE.

.WEILE the majority of the Indian band
stood aligned in front of the burning cabin,
half a dozen others rode up and down the streets
of the camp, firingLinto every cabin where a
sign of life made any appearance, thus keeping
the mine-rs in lul‘l‘Ol‘ and concealment.

The fire took hold of the dry pine logs with
avidity. It ran up the wall, then reached the
roof, and soon the long tongues of flame were
shooting into the air above the comb of the

reef, lighting the faces of the line of men in.

front of the building.

And such a line of faces! it would seem that
all the arch-villains and desperadoes of the
West had congregated to other in that hand.
There were a number of r -skins and Mexicans
in the crewd. and even the negro race had two
representatives there dressed in skins with the
fur on, and presenting a striking resemblance to
the African gorilla.

Most of the band remained in their saddles,
their revolvers cocked and held ready for in-

stant use. Their eyes were all focused upon the,

door of- the cabin, and as _the wavoring, flicker-
ing light danced over their faces the appeared
more like grotesque demons than when be.

A'look of fear and uneasiness, as well as
anxiety was u :1 those atrocious visages. The
villains were a doubt as to the fate of their

leader and his trusted lieutenant. They saw, -

furthermore, that it would take longer than ex~
pected for the fire to eat through the wallspf the
cabin and drive out the inmates. while the
grOwi flame was lighting up the Plaza in
which t ey were waiting with the light of the
mid-day sun, exposing them to danger should
any of the miners have the courage to venture
out and open fire on them from the shadows.

Nor were their fears without foundation, for
‘ suddeigy an outlaw uttered a cry of

in and
tomb] from his huddle, hawllng an cursing
like a smitten fiend. , z

N 0 crack of a rifle was heard, but when friends

assisted him to his fact they am Wow coining ' '

from a honinie gas on the chi-wk.

“ What done it, Carr! What halcyon?” at... '

one of the men.

Before Carr could answer, something whimed 

   
 
   
  
   
 
  
   
   
   
  
    
  
  
  
    
  
 
 
 
   
 

.q‘

      
        
   
           
    
    
           
    
     
     
         
   
           
        

    

’  gs? . iii-rm} . "a:--"1.n'hal~'fl r *  l'

8

 

Old Kit Bandy’s Compromise.

‘-"'§"T.'a_:vv.r4r *- ~: All“ ' "mi ' l

,h, , ~—~ ,,,,.,...,....

 

 

through the air, and with a dull “ spat ” struck
one of the black gorillas in the face almost un-
horsing him and causing the negro to roar with
pain and rage.

Immediatelya third missile from an unseen
hand came hurtling from the shadows and
struck a horse on the forehead with a crack like
that of a pistol. The horse staggered, reared,
and, becoming unmanageable, threw its rider
and dashed away, almost creating a stampede
among the other animals.

For several minutes confusion reigned among
the outlaws, in the midst of which the crack of
a rifle was heard, and a bullet and more missiles
did ugly work in their ranks.

“ It’s the work of that boy devil, Little Thun-
derbolt! Away, men, and hunt him down l” sud-
denly exclaimed an outlaw, who had upon an-
other occasidn felt the force of Little Jove’s
silent, unerring blows.

The direction in which the foe was ,looated
was quickly determined by the position in which
the stricken men stood when they received the
blows, and at once half a dozvn Indians, the
scouts of the robber-band, were oil? in search.
But of course they found no one, and, to still
add to the confusion of the moment, bullets be-
gan to whistle from various points in the dark-
ness. Wherever, the flash of agun Was seen
there would go the red scouts, only to return
dismayed.

The situation was becoming critical, and the
flrgwas n0where near through the walls of the
ca in.

“ Men!” suddenly exclaimed a big, red~fsced

‘outlaw, who seemed to be next' in command to
the two villains inside the cabin, “ we’ve got to
bring this thing to a close! Shubrick, bring up
that kicking stud o’ yours and we’ll back it
ag’inst the door and bu’st it down, and let the
boss receive the first shots, and then we’ll rush
in! We can’t wait on that fire to drive ’em out,
or we’ll all be killed and cri pied.”

“All right, Moloch,”sui Shubrick, backing
his horse, a vicious little stallion, up close to the

cor.

This done, both he and Moloch seized the
reins and with all their strength gave the hits a
jerk, throwing the animal Violently back upon
its haunches against the door. The door yield-
ed to the animal’s weight and flew open With a
crash, and so suddenly that the horse, unable to
recover its feet, fell over backward into the
cabin I

This was something the wily Moloch had not
counted upon, and as the storming party rushed
to the entrance, the floundering, kicking stallion
prevented them from entering, and the next in-
stant all were driven away from the door by
the blazing revolvers of the defenders.

All was still darkness within the cabin, and
the outlaws dared not fire into it through fear
of wounding their friendS.

The situation had now become as exciting as
it was critical, and if there was any difference
the excitement inside the cabin was the great-

est, for the terrified horse, having regained its ‘

feet, was plunging about the room, crashing
among the chairs, kettles and pans, and smash-
ing dovvn everything that came in its way—its
heels ‘making the situation for the inmates of
the cabin more dangerous than the bullets of
the outlaws. Notwithstanding the door stood
open, the animal was too blinded with mad
affright to see it and escape.

Old Kit and Jack Game endeavored to keep
together and out of the way of the stallion’s
g ked hoofs, and at the same time watch the

oor. I

As for the manacled Outlaw, they cared but
little whether he was trampled under the horse’s
hoofs or not. It was all they could do‘now to
save their own lives, and in their efforts in this
direction they finally became separated in the
darkness. A moment or two later Kit heard a
groan and the fall of a body following a blow
of the horse’s heels. Either Game or the outlaw
had been kicked. Bandy called his friend’s
name. There was no response.

Groping his way around the room, he stum-
bled against a prOStrate form. He felt I the
face. It was that of his friend, and to all ap-
garance he was dead. He rolled the body close

the wall to save it from being trampled

upon.

Sparks of fire were beginning to drop through
cracks in the floor overhead. The fire was eat-
ing through the roof; smoke and heat were fill-
ing) the mom. .

utside the excitement was at a fever heat—
bordering on a panic. The thunderbolts of
Little Jove still kept coming from first one di-
rection and then another, and two of the In-
dians’ scouts having already been killed in their

 

efforts to run him down, the others refused to
make further attempts to find him. Nor could
a single outlaw be prevailed upon to enter the
cabin where pandemonium reigned.

Moloch and Shubrick kept calling the name
of Captain Sharks and Garlock, their friends in
the building, but they received no answer, and
gnaély made up their minds that both were

ea .

Meanwhile the miners were evidently coming
to the rescue, for shots were now being heard
in every direction, in spite of the fact that two-
thirds of the band was riding through the camp
in a vain effort to prevant an uprising.

“ Shubrick,” Moloch finally said, “ this raid
is] an, unholy failure! We’ve got to git out of
t is!

They turned and started for their horses.
Just then the mad stallion burst from the burn-
ing cabin and shot away across the Plaza like
the wind. Upon its back, lying down, his arms
clutched about its neck, his heels digging the
animal in the flanks, was a man!

All saw the horse and the rider on its back,
but before a word had been uttered or a move-
ment made, Captain Sharke came reeling from
the cabin with his munacled arms outstretched
before him and his face the very picture of de-
moniac fury and rage.

“Curse your stupidity!” he fairly roared;
“run him down! run him down! It is Kit
gaudy, the Mountain Detective, escaped on that

orse!

 

CHAPTER XII.
BEN HALL IN comrnomsn CAMP.

HALF a dozen red-skins and outlaws gave
chase to the cunning old detective who had, in
fact, escaped from the cabin on the back of the
frantic stallion. But they soon returned with-
out either man or horse.

Captain Sharks was assisted onto the back
of a horse and led an inglorious retreat from
Camp Compromise, leaving a number of their
dead friends behind.

Scarcely were they out of the light of the
burning cabin when a lithe figure came bound-
in': from the shadows into the light closely
followed by two others.

The foremost of the three was Little Jove
the Young Thunderbolt, and the other two were
Old Tom Rattler and Ben Hall.

Before a single miner had a ared on the
grOund, Jove and Old Tom rushed into the
cabin and brought out the bodies of the dead
outlaw and Mayor Jack Game. As they did so
a roan escaped the lips of the latter.

y this time a few miners were seen a
proaching. Old Tom hurried them up,and ba e

'them attend to the wounded man.

Water was speedily brOught, and the blood
washed from the mayor’s face, and his head
bathed. In a few minutes he had revived, and
almost ’he first words he spoke was to inquire
for Kit Bandy.

“What! has Old Kit Bandy been in Com-
promise?” exclaimed Old Rattler.

“ Old Kit Bandy was in that cabin with me,”
Game explained, “but the horse kicked me
senseless, and what become of him and Captain
Sharks, the outlaw, who was also in there with
me, I don’t know.”

“ Oh, by gracious l” exclaimed Marshal Bob
Mason, “then that slick ole cuss, Judge Trump,
Congressional candidate, was the outlaw, Jack
Sharks?”

“ That slick ole cuss, Judge Trump, was Bandy,
and that red-mouthed varlet callin’ himself
Bandy was the outlaw Sharke. That’s the
why it stood. Bandy, the genuine, succeeded in
clapping the darbies on Bandy, the fraud, and
killed his confederate.”

“ Then it must ’a’ been Old Kitsie that escaped
on that hoss,” said Old Tom, “ for there was one
fellow came out on foot and went oil? with the
robbers. Rosycrusiansl wouldn’t I like to wob-
ble his paw. Did you say he came here a can-
didate for Congress?”

“ He passed him If off as Judge Jerry Trump
candidate for Co gress, and made a rattling
political speech at the City Hall to—night,”ex-
plained Marshal Mason.

“ Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Old Tom “what
next will that old man—Ileceiver an villain-
hnnter be u to? Kit Bandya candidate for
Congress! h. but that’s a smiler!” ,

“if it was he that escaped «on that hose, I
reckon he’ll be back,” said the mayor.

“ Mebhy he will, and mebby he won’t,” Rattler
answered; “ he may turn up to—morrow mornin’
in Texas or Montana. The old buccaneer is
ever wheres and nowheres.”

“ t might be that he was wounded, and,

 

although he got away, now lies suffering and in
need of help,” said the mayor.

“ That might be.” assented Old Tom, “and
we’d ought to look around for him if he doesn’t
show up soon.”

The mayor’s cabin was reduced to ashes, and
he took quarters with a neighboring miner.

Rattler, Little Jove and Ben Hall were well
cared for, and a party sent out to search ior
Bandy.

The night passed, the searching-party re-
tiirned, but brought no tidings of the old detec-
t ve.

The camp was early astir, anxious to ascer-
tain the extent of the night’s casualties.

’l‘he Bonnet Creeks were sorely twitted by the
Hat Creeks over the absence of the distinguished
guest the had dined and wined the day before,
Captain ake Sharke.

Short! after breakfast Little Jove took Ben
Hall asi e and said:

“ Ben, I guess I’ll pull out now for Red Notch.
I hate to leave you, but 1- must. But I want
you to promisc me that before on leave the
country you’ll come back to Red otch and re-
main there until I come in. I might be able to
tell you something that’d please you all over.
Will you come, Ben?”

“ I will, Jove, as sure as my life is spared,’
Ben Hall responded, with some degree of feel-

in .

TVith this, Little Jove took his departure from
Compromise.

Ben’s mind now turned to the Mystery of the
Dismal Desert, and, donning his blue-ribbon
badge, he started on a stroll through the cam .

He walked over to the “ City Hall ” and cal ed
on Pat Shinn, the one-legged postmaster. Pat
had very little to do but talk, and so he and Ben
entered into a conversation. While thus en-
gaged, a man Well-dressed entered the room.

9 was a young man of about thirty and rather
prepossessing appearance. He had come to
Compromise the day before, and had been enter-
tained at the cabin of Marshal Mason, for Com-
promise had not yet arrived at the dignity of a
hotel. His name was John Chilton.

As the stranger approached, Pat Shinn said:

“ Misther Chilton, and let me be afther intro«
doocin’ yees to Misther Ben Hall, one av the
three laddies what made it so hot fur them
bhloody spalpeens last noight.”

Chilton extended his hand, and he and Ben
went through the usual formalities of new ac~
quaintances, but Ben Hall was suddenly sur-
prised—startled, as he came face to face with
the man, for upon the lapel of his coat he saw
that he too were a blue badge!

CHAPTER XIII.
HELD UP BY ROAD-AGENTS.

WHEN Ben Hall saw that John Chilton also
wore a blue badge he succeeded very cleverly
in keeping his inward emotions fr0m outward
manifestations, and if Chilton noticed his badge
at all he was equally clever in his indifference to
the fact.

But, the very moment Ben could do so with

re riety, he bade Chilton good-day and left the
‘ all,” his mind full of queries and conflicting
thoughts. But the main question with him

‘was:

Had John Chilton obtained the secret of the
Dismal Desert? and was he endeavoring to solve
the mystery and secure Kingsley’s gold? Had
he found the dead horse on the desert and read
“ Silent Honor’s ” words written on the saddle-
skirt? If so was it before or after he and Fred
Weston had) made their discovery? or, could it
be possible that John Chilton was “ Silent
Honor" himseéfl or, again, was the fact of a
blue ribbon being worn in his button-hole;sim~
plya coincidence?

Over these questions Ben pondered for half a,
day. and the more he thought over them the
stron er the conviction became that he must
meet hilton again, and give the man an oppor-
tunity to broach the subject if he so desired.
On further reflections, however, he changed his
mind. Thinking that perhaps Chilton had not
noticed his badge, and being somewhat a student
of human nature, he concluded to remove his
badge and manage to meet Chilton under cir-
cumstances that would enable him to study the
man carefully.

After dinner he strolled back to the City Hall.
He had been there but a few minutes when
Chilton came in, and the first thing Ben no-
ticed was that he, too, had taken oil? his rib-
bon.

The two now greeted each other with the in-
formalities of old ac uaintances, and at once
entered into n genera conversation with each
other and Pat Shinn.

 

 

 

 

 

Old Kit Bandy’s Compromise.

9

 

 

Chilton possessed a good address and all the
pleasant, genial qualities of a social fellow, but
.Ben soon discovered, or, at least, imagined he
did, something about him he could not define.
.It might have been the result of mere suspicion,
but in the glance of his dark-gray e es there
seemed a restless, inquisitive look, an at times
his mind seemed to be upon something else than
the subject under discussion.

After conversing for some minutes on general
atopics, Chilton asked:

“ How long have you been in the West, Mr.
Hall?”

“This is my first trip to Compromise Cam ,
though it is my second summer in the Colora o
mountains,” answered Ben, evading a direct
answer.

“ Well, Compromise is a lively camp, or at
least it held a flush last ht,” Chilton ob-
served, with a smile. “‘A po itical speech and
.an attack by robbers is a pretty heavy dose
for one night; but I don’t see that the camp is
any the worse for it, although the disappearance
3f Ol,d Kit Bandyis troubling the miners a great
- eal. ’ t
“ Tom Rattler thinks he‘ll turn up all right.”

“ I hope so; he’s a clever old fellow, but for
'the life of me I can’t see why he put in two
hours making a political speech last ni ht, when
he is in reality no candidate. But, r. Hall,
«do you think of investing in mining property
or are you just around for your health an
pleasure?”

“Just taking in the si hts,” answered Ben
“and I assure you the have been many and
"varied since I landed in Notch. I presume
:you are a Coloradoan, Mr. Chilton?”

When Ben turned questioner, Chilton seemed
more reserved, and. hesitated a moment before
rep! ing.

“ ou might say that I am,” he answered.
‘“ I’ve been hocking around over the State a
gvear or two, and mean to settle down before
long, but do not think it will be in Compro-
miss.”

Thus for an hour the two conversed, when
Bob Mason, the marshal, came in. Mason was
a man of about thirty years, and had the ap-
pearance and address of a well-bred man, al-
thOiigh marks of dissipation were beginning to
.show about his eyes.

The three now carried on a general conversa-
‘tion, and when Ben Hall finally took his de ar-
ture, it was with the conviction that John hil-
xton was a deep, shrewd man, with a secret that
he kept carefully guarded. Was it the secret of
the Dismal Desert?

During the afternoon Ben met mOSt of the
miners of the Hat Creek side of the camp, but
none of them recognized his badge.

Toward evening, being unable to find Rattler,
he strolled ofif alone up Bonnet Creek Valley.
He wanted to think—to determine his future
course. The presence of Chilton disturbed him,
:for he could not think otherwise than that the
man was there upon the same mission as him-
so". But was he acting from honest motives?
or was the possession of Kingsley’s gold the only
object in view?

Ben finally made n his mind that if the noted
Kit Bandy returned e would take him into his
confidence and enlist his experience as a detec-
tive. He almost regretted that he had not
made a confidant of Little Jove. The boy’s
knowledge of the mountains might have en-
:abled him to accomplish his mission without
difficulty. But this was out of the question
now, and Tom Rattler—true, trusty Old Tom,
who had nursed him through his sickness—wag
the only one left he could dare think of trusting
with his secret, and it Seemed he must have
.some one acquainted With the mountains to help

111.

Thus with his mind fully absorbed Ben saun.
'tered up the picturesque little valley until the
shadow of a high, wooded bluff falhng across
. his path warned him that the sun was going
down. He turned to retraca his steps when he

found himself confronted by three masked men'

who had noiselesst emerged from the bushes at
the base of the bluff.

“ Throw up your hands, stranger,” command-
.ed one of the three, pointing a cocked revolver
at his head.

Resistance, Ben saw, would be self-destruction,
and as be supposed robbery was their only ob-
ject, and he had little of value about him to lose,
compared with his life, he raised his hands, say-
ing with grim humor:

“ Gentlemen, you’ve struck the wrong man
this time if you expect a big haul of wealth.”

“You’re the fellow that’s fooled,” responded
one of the road-agents, “ for it’s not wealth we
are after.”

One of the villains advanced and relieved Ben
of his revolver, watch and purse.

Scarcer had he completed his work when the
rattle of wheels and the tramp of hoofs were
heard, and around the bluff from the direction
of Red Notch came Star Route Sam’s mail-hack
right upon them.

Springing in front of the horses two of the
road-agents drew their revolvers and command-
ed a halt.

“ Whoa! ten times in two years!” exclaimed
Star Route Sam, as he stopped his mules.

In the hack were two passengers, a man and a
woman. The former was an elderly man of
five-and~sixty with white hair and beard, and
the latter a young girl.

“ Passeréglers will step out and be searched!"
command an outlaw advancing to the side of
the vehicle.

A cry of fear burst from the girl’s lips. The
old man undertook to remonstrate with the rob-
bers, but they were inexorable and he was com-

lled to climb out. The girl also got out, and

en Hall was amazed at the symmetry and
beauty of her form and face.

She could not have been over ei hteen years
of age, with a figure developed in :51 the graces
of womanhood, dark-blue eyes and a face,
thoggh wearing a look of fright, that was (is
old ly handsome.

Even the outlaws seemed'enraptured by her
beauty and, as if touched by her expressions of
fear one of them said:

“ Miss, you may get back into the hack.”

As she turned to reenter the conveyance Ben
Hall, who had been marched up alongside the
wagon, was startled with surprise by the sight
of a tiny blue ribbon worn upon her left breast!
But he had no time for reflections now, for he
lvivask ordered to get into the rear seat of the

ac .

Having robbed the old man. he was also
ordered back to the middle seat with the
girl. Then two of the robbers climbed into
the vehicle and squeezed themselves down on
either side of Ben Hall, while the third got into
the seat with the driver and said, holding a re-
volver in hand:

“Samuel Star Route, you’ll now turn your
team and drive back up the creek, and don’t be
sparing of whip.”

The old veteran mail-carrier—hero of ten

or have his head blown off, and so he turned his
team, and the heavily-loaded hack went creakin
off up Bonnet Creek in the gathering shadows 0
night. ‘

 

CHAPTER XIV.
“BAIL FELLOWS” MEET.

LITTLE J ovn left Camp Compromise mounted
upon the sw1ft-limbed horse he had taken from
the outlaw in Black Rock Canyon some weeks
before.

His road to Red Notch Camp ran for about
ten miles along Bonnet Creek.

This distance he had nearly covered when,
from the bushes in the mouth of a side defile, he
heard a voice calling.

Drawing rein a tall man emerged from the
bushes and beckoned him to approach.

“ It must be Kit Bandy l” Jove thought, and
turning his horse’s head he rode up to where the
man was standing, a broad smile on his face.

“Are you Kit Bandy f” the boy asked. as he
approached the man, a little in doubt as to whe-
ther he was friend or foe.

“ You hit the nail on the head first crack,
youngster; I am Ka-ristopher Kodumbus Bandy,
and now who are you?” was the man’s frank re-

sponse.
“I’m Little Jove Runkells,” answered the

y.

“ Bully, by the born 0’ J oshual I’ve heard 0’
the Little Thunderbolt, and b’lieve he’s my long-
lost twin brother! Boy, stop—dismount and let’s
have a chat—some fun with each other.”

Little Jove was so taken by the 01d detective
that he was forced, through curiosity, to com-
fily with his request, and dismounting, he led

is horse into the thicket and hitched it, and
then- he and Bandy sat down and entered into
conversation.

“ Mr. Bandy, they‘re awful oneasy ’bout you
down at Camp Compromise ’cause you didn’t
come back there after you got out of that cabin
on the boss.” Little Jove said.

1;.“  ygu’refiaogpompromisef—glad to hear
1 e , ow
I departed?” ‘ mgs turn out, anyhow, after

“ Oh, we made it hot for therobbers! and they
had to strike for the hills. We salted several of
them,” Jove answered. ,

 

“ hold ups ”—knew that he would have to obey'

 

“And did you find Jake Sharke’s dead body
in the cabin?”

“ N o; the outlaw got ofi! alive with handcuffs
and all.”

“Did ye get the mayor’s body out before it
burnt?"

“ Yes; but the mayor wasn’t dead by a long
shot and this mornin’ he was good as new.”

“ Glory! by the horn o’Joshual that’s good
news, for that man Game is a hull man. I took
to him like a duck to water.”

“ And he to you; he had men all night search-
in’ for you; he was afraid you’d been thrOWed
and wounded, but Old Tom Rattler told him—”

“ Say l—stop right there, boy; tell me honest-
ly: is Ole Tom Rattler, the hunter, in Com-
promise Camp?"

H He is.”

“ Bless‘m soul! I must see the old, old pirate.
I love Ole om as a father. He’s a lamb for
frolic and fun, and a lien for fightin’ and
bravery.”

“ You 'ust bet he is, Mr. Bandy!” declared
Jove. “ ’ve seen him fight and, as an outlaw
said, he’s the ’centrated wildcatness 0’ three

enerations. Last nig t, before you esca

rom that burnin’shac , Tom and me and en
Hall who got into Compromise just in time for
the inn, more’n made it lively for the lungers.
Old Tom with his gun dealt out lightnin’, and I
flung stone thunderbolts ’mongst the varmints,
and it kept them spinnin’ ’round like a monkey
to see who was pullin’ its tail. But as I was
goin’ to say: Old Tom told Mayor Game you
might come back, and you might not, but that
you’d turn up somewheres if not in Congress.”

“ Well, the fact is,” Kit said, smiling, “ that
ride ’bout done me up. The boss war a wild,
vicious brute, and in tearin’ ’round in the cabin
got his bridle off, an, I couldn’t do a thing with
him, and he run all the way up here with me
like greased lightnin’. He went so fast I didn’t
dare attempt to jump off, and when he finally
fell and threw me off, 1 crawled into these
bushes and highly died with a wild, warrin’
cramp inside my jacket, and here I’ve been ever
since, but am ’bout all right ag’in.”

“ And had nothin’ to eat?" asked Jove.

“Not even a grasshopper.”

“ Well, I’ll stuff you a little,” said Jove; “ Ben
Hall gave me enough lunch, when 1 left camp,
to last a bear a week.”

Producing his lunch, he and Kit ate a very
hearty dinner. '

“ Are you going back to Compromise or up to
Red Notch?" Jove asked, after they had finished
their re t.

“ I’m goin’ to stay here until night now, and
wait for my pard, Ichabod Flea, who was to be
in Compromise some time to-day from Red

‘Notch. There’s a chap in that camp we want,

and the- darbies intended for him were worn
away by Captain Sharke. Better loaf here
with me, boy, awhile and I’ll tell you some
stories that’ll make your scalp creep.”

Little J we was so pleased with the jolly,
whimsical old man that he :consented to remain
with him, at least, until his friean should come
along, not particularly to hear the stories that
were to make his scalp creep, but because
he believed the old detective was still a
sicker an than he would admit, and did not
want to left alone.

So, seated there in the bushes where they could
watch for Ichabod Flea, and yet not be seen,
they talked the hours away.

It must have been near the middle of the af-
ternoon when they heard boots and wheels
coming down the valley, and soon Star-Route
Sam’s hack rolled into view and passed on by.

“ By the great kioodelsl” exclaimed L ttle
Jove, “Sam’s got a lady passsenger, and she’s
pretty as a picter !"

“ Bet doughnuts to dollars Old Tom Rattler’s
in love with her just as sure as he ever claps
eyes on her,” declared Old Kit. “ But what the
plague can a young girl like that be doin’ in this
country? If an outlaw or redskin gets sight of
her face, it may make her a deal 0’ trouble.”

“That must be her old dad with her,” said
Little Jove, “ and they must be hurryin’ Old
Sam around prettv lively, for he just went up
to Red Notch this mornin’, and is not due :30 go
back until to-morrow.”

The two soon forgot all about the hack, and
continued in concealment until a ut sunset,
when Ichabod, not appearing, Old Kit conclud-
ed to return to Compromise, and almost regret-
ted that he had not hailed the hack and gone in
with Star- Route Sam.

Little Jove ofiered him‘his horse.' but Kit
would not accept it, and he then resolved to go
back to Compromise with him. still believing
the old man suifcring from injuries of the pre-

 

 

' l

 

V

, A "toknowifyouwasn’tavisitorat Red
.3 wyepragol”, ' l
  ' ..,9Iwu,”ppromptlyanswered8sh.

,.,

10

Old Kit Bandy’s Compromise.

 

vious night, and by going with him could pre-
vail on him to ride.

They started off on foot, Jove leading his
horse. Darkness came on before they were far
on their way, and they had gone less than two
miles when they were brought to a stand by a
sound like the rattle of wheels coming up the
valley this time.

“ By the born 0’ Joshua!” exclaimed Bandy,
“ I do believe it’s the mail-hack comin’ back!”

“ It hasn’t had time to go to Compromise and
back surely,” said Little Jove.

“ Never! there’s somethin‘ wrong, lad l”

mncealing his horse, Little Jove and Kit
waited in the shadows the approach of the
vehicle. It soon rolled past them. It was Star-
Route Sam’s rig !!

“ Boy ” said Kit, “there is somethin’ wrong
there! ’m goin’ to follow that back I”

“And here’s with you, Kit,” whis ered' Jove.
and leaving the horse, the two set 0 to shadow
the wagon.

 

CHAPTER XV.
A nnnomac soasau.

DEEPER and deeper did the mysteries, and
greater and greater the dangers, of the moun~
tains gather about the luckiess Ben Ball.

With two of his dearest friends dead, and
himself now a prisoner in the power of the hill
ruflians, was calculated to discourage and dis-
hearten him, brave heart that he was.

As the hack rolled away up the brawling Bon-
net Creek, his eyes upon the sobbing girl before

, him—remembering that , he had seen a blue rib-
bon upon her breast—new fuel was added to his
burning thoughts. But, as with John Chilton,
her wearing a blue badge might simply have
beena coincidence; but, nevertheless, she wore
it, and it see. him to thinking, and the more he
pondered over the matterthe more perplexed he

» seemed to become.

Who could the girl be? What was she doing
in that dangerous country? Even though the
‘old gentleman at her side was her father. it
must have been upon an extraordinary occasion
that they had come into that part of t e laud.

Ben’s hands had not been tied, and he finally
began to speculate upon his chances of escape.

he curtains at the side of the hack were
finally le down, making it dark as pitch inside
the vehi e. -

In perfect silence, excepting the almost con-
tinuous cracking of Sdm’s Whlp over the backs
of his weary mules, the ride continued for sev-
eral miles up Bonnet Creek. Finally the villain
at the old driver’s side said:

“ You’ll turn into the next defile on the right,

‘ Samuel, and whack ’long them rlazy brutes!”

They soon came to the entrance of a defile
leading away among the‘ roughest . and most
desolate of all that mountain country.

Sam Was forced to urge on his mules, and at
last one of them fell in the harness with sheer ex-
haustion.

“ That settles it with this rig for to-night,” de-
clared Sam, leaping from the hack.

, “ Then we’ll camp right here ‘till mornin’,”
said the outlaw. “Everybody but the young
lady’ll get out.” , .

All but the girl got out of the hack.

They had stopped where there was a heavy
growth of timber, and it was pitchy dark around

them.
The two outlaws'kept hold of ‘Ben Hall’s arm

, determined he should not escape; while the third

arded the old

ck. .« -

Finally one of Ben’s captors said:

“ Let us take a little walk up the valley. ”

Ben did not remonstrate, but a sudden fear
took possession of him, and he nerved himself to
meet the Worst. .

*About two hundred yards from the wagon
lted, when onset the outlaws said to

passenger and watched over the

“ .nng’ man, we have no desirato do you
bodily harm, but we dohave a burning desire
for sgme information we think you can im-

The speaker’s voice sounded vaguely familiar
to Ben, and after a moment’s reflection he was
almost convinced it was that of John Chilton!

. Then the thought flashed through his mind that
"if the man was Chiltonythe nature ofhis ques—
tions would determine that fact. “a '

“ I cannot‘understand. What information I
could have for a gang of outlaws,” he answered.

“ Well we’ll see,” said the outlaw; “we want

Notch a

    
   

 

“There, that’s information to us,” observed
the outlaw; “ and now will you tell us what
takes you to Compromise this year?”

“ Private business.” '

“ Of what nature?”

“ I decline to answer, sir.”

“ Not too fast new, young man j” cautioned
the outlaw in a tone implying a threat. ~“ Now,
it has been observed, by a spy of ours, that you
and one John Chilton have been Wearing a blue
badge or ribbon in your buttonholes around Red
Notch and Compromise: can’t you tell us the
meaning of those badges?” ~

“ I cannot, sir—perhaps Chilton can,” was
Ben‘s response, now firm in the belief that his
interlocutor was John Chilton himself, in dis-
guise.

“ You evade a direct answer,” the outlaw said;
“ we know you can give us all the facts connect-
ed with that blue ribbon business, and—”

The sound of a shot fired in the vicinity of the
back cut short the outlaw’s words, but the last
word had scarcely fallen from his lips when a
scream, half-human, half-tiger, burst upon the
trio’s ears almost in their very midst, and at the
same instant a dark form sprung upon the hack
of one of outlaws and dragged him to the earth!

Stricken with fear Ben Hall’s questioner.
rushed away, dragging the prisoner by the arm,
believing his friend was in the clutches of some
terrible wild beast. But now was Ben’s opportu-
nity. Between the outlaw and the demon that had
made the gloom shiver with its hideous scream,
he would take his chances with the latter, and
with all the power of a trained, skilled arm he
dealt his captor a blow on the side of the head
ghat sent him reeling away into the bushes half-

328( a ‘
And Ben Hall was again a free man.

CHAPTER XVI.
A Mrsrnnious DISAPPEARANCE.

THE minute Ben Hall found himself free be
determined to make an effort to' rescue the girl
captive, and With this end in view started on
the doublequick toward the hack, hoping: to get
in ahead of his late captor whose retreating foot-
steps he could hear 03 to his left. But Ben had
gone but a short distance when he heard a
peculiar whistle that he had heard before. He
stopped and listened, and heard the whistle re-

was a night-call upon wh.ch Little Jove had
drilled him the night, before.

Footsteps were soon heard approaching, and
then a voice called softly: '

“Ben Hall?” , ‘ V

“ Here,” was the answer, and the next mo-
ment Little Jove glided up to him in the dark-
ness and grasped his hand. ‘ .

“Thank God! Little Jove, it 1's you 1” Hall
whispered.

“ You bet !” was the boy’s answer.

“Jove, did you hear that horrible scream a
few moments 0, out here?”

“You bet.‘ asn’t it a compound kioodler,
though?” ‘

“ Boy, did you utter that scream?" asked
Brian£1 the truth beginning to dawn upon his
m n .

t “I” on bet; and I done one of them oritlaws up,
no r

“You’re a terror, boy; but do you know
there is a young girl down here a prisoner l”

“ Kit Bandy and I mistrusted there was, and
fullered the hack from‘where we met it on Bon-
net Creek to where it halted. We were right
there when their: tellers asked you to take a
walk, and i come after on and Kit stayed t)
1025!: after those at the ark. Let's hurry 91:
the old terror mgneed help.”

The two mov on. and as they approached
the wagon, Jove signaled their presence, and was
answered by Old Kit. « v \

They reached the, wagon, where all was ex-
citement. Old Kit was there. The outlaw left
in charge was there; also, int .he was harmless,
silent. The old passenger was wringing his
hands and .moan ng his distress. Star-Route
Sam was rushing here and there in the darkness
like an insane man. .

“What’s wrong, Kit, anything/f” questioned
Little Jove, as he and Ben came up. '

peered as silently and mysteriously as if dissolv-
ed into gloom!” was Old Klt’s respo

“ but she ma have slipped away in the dark-
n and can found.’ v r f ’-
- 9‘ sadfor alive she will be found!" declared
Bandy; ‘.‘ Jove, I see you donei‘your part. with
» “Olhe‘Prgad-azent got awe " ”  30W, ‘i and
unless he runsaorouthc git

I

 

      

peated. He answered it in like manner for it »

“ The deuce‘s to pay h The gal’s gone l—disap-l

n”. i
“ That is strange, indeed!” Ben Hall said,

 

    

,‘we’ll have no trouj

ble with him. Mr. Bandy, this is the young»

man I was tellin’ ou ’bout—Mr. Ben Hall.”
Kit and Ben c asped hands and exchanged
Words of happy greeting.

The next matter of consideration was the find- 

ing of the girl, and while arran ements for the» r
all approached :

search were being made, Ben
the old passenger and said:

“Stranger, pardon me, but will you give me!  '

your name?”
“ Reuben Dayton,” the old gentleman an-
swered. ‘ -
“And was that young ladv your daughter?”
“ No, sir, my niece, Edith Kingsley.”
“ What! Edith, the sister of John Kingsley!”
cried Ben. .
.“ Oh! you knew poor John! who are you,
sir?” Dayton asked. '
“ Ben Hall, John’s friend,” answered Ben.

“ Then you are the very person we were going ' l

to Compromise to see. Edith received a long
letter from gnu explaining the death of her bro.
ther, and nding of his body by one ‘Silent.
Honor.’ She answered yourletter but got no re-
ly, and after waiting over time for a second
etter and it came not. all earth couldn’t hold
her back, and to Red Notch she came, and, of‘
course, 1 came with her.”

“ i never received so much as the scratch of'
en from her, Mr. Dayton,” Ben declared.

“That’s stran e, indeed, Mr. Hall,” Dayton
answered: “but am afraid the poor child will
not he found alive, or if alive, worse than.
dead 1” .

“How did she escape without your knowl-
edge?” questioned Ben. V

“ A few minutes before Mr. Randy’s attack
the outlaw gave her permission to get out of
the hack, which she did, climbing out on the
opposite side. The air being.r chilly, l assisted.

her to put on her long cloth cloak, and then she _

«o-

rem0ved her hat and pulled the cloak-hood well , .

over herhead. That was the last I saw of her.
Star Route Sam says she was standing within
five feet of him when Mr. Bandy fired that'-
shot.

In the mean time, Little vae hnd Kit had
recovered from the bodies of the dead outlaws
nearly all the valuables taken from Ben and
Dayton, while Ben was well armed with the-
slain robbers’ weapons. I

The search for Edith began. It lasted until
midnight, and from midnight until morning,
but not a trace of the girl could be found. She,
had vanished as if dISSUIVOd into the gloom oi"
night, sure enough.

Gloomy as were the'spirits of the little party
day dawned. A mist hun over the hills, ob-
scuring the sun, to Ben l all a dreadful re—-
minder of the days he and Fred Wéston had
passed upon the Little Dismal Desert. ‘ ’

The search for the girl was to be renewed and.
Erosecuted until ,she was found, dead or alive.

efore the searchers set out, however, they, had
the satisfaction of seeing the mail-hack on its
way to, Compromise, carrying with it the al-
most prostrated Reuben Day ton.

CHAPTER XVII.
. IN THE Rosanas‘ RELAY.
WHAT, indeed, had become of'Edith KingS~

leyi Let us see: as Star-Route Sam had 1d,...

she stood within a few fret of him when it.

Bandy attacked the robber in charge of. the 

hack, and if he had given his attention to the ,'

 

girl then instead ’of i'wrmitting it to be drawn a ‘

aside to the scene of the brief stru gle, he might
have seen a shadowy form w isk the

it!
away into the shadows with the silence of a v z;

phantom.

While the report of Old Kit’s;revolver was 

ringing in her ears, Edith felt a hand touch her V ~

arm, and heard a voice whistper: ; ~ .,
“ M v lady, come quick! , ow’s your chance!
I’m a friend 1” ‘

Speechless and helpless, Edith permitted her-mfg, 1' .

self to be led ra idly away as if completely un- , \,

der a mesmerlc nfluence.

It is true she had a vague knomwge of a shot  , ,1 ,

being fired near the hack, and of the sounds of a;
str lo, but 2119' was so bewildered, so confused;
and: er brain so nearly paralyzed with terror
that shelconld comprehend nothing of them
triIx‘I h ‘ -~ 4

'i

the unknown, both silent and
mind and body as completely at

After prooeeding nearly a mile in this 
her revcuer or captor, she'knew notwhich’, a,
tured mask: , , r  ,
“ Can you ride herseback, miss!” 5 ‘ " '
Faint] , ’deliricusly' she  as 
amrmat ve. , “ . V _  e 

'- ‘ » ' z: v~ ~ .717" '

 

  

t c is ' ' . ‘, r , .
Mike, in child she was led hurriedly away by

:Eeecbl‘eas. her _ V
v a will power . '
- of her conductor as his own right hand, -- 

 
  
      

 

 

 

 

Groping about in the dark, they finally came
to where a horse was hitched to a tree.

Edith was assisted into the saddle, and then
taking the reins, her conductor led the horse
away up the defile.

Who the man was, and where he was taking
her, it did not occur to the mind of the poor,
helpless, terrified girl to inquire; but every mile
or so the horse was Stopped and the man inquired
in kindly tones after her comfort.

Always receiving a satisfactory answer, the
retreat was continued until the defile became so
rough and choked up with rocks and bushes,
that it was impossible to proceed further with
the horse until daylight.

So assisting the girl from the saddle, he turned
the horse loose to graze, and conducted the
maiden to a place of security under a ledge of
rock on the right of the defile. Nor was this
stop made a moment too soon, for the sound of
voices was heard going in the direction whence
'they had come.

“,Harkee, girl!” said Edith’s companion;
“ we’re here none too Soon, for there Oes agang
o’ night-prowlin’ robbersl If we’ g‘gyne on,
we’d ’a’ run plump into their hands. e’ll be
apt to lose Our hoss, anyhow. but it’sa good
thing I didn’t hitch it, or they’d mistrust the
owuer was near. They may, anyhow, and come
nosin’ ’round and some 0’ them git killed.”

“Might they not be friends!’ Edith asked,
beginning at last to realize the position she was
in.

Her rescuer chuckled softly as he replied:

“ You’re not acquainted with the people and
we 3 of the mountains, I know miss."

‘ No, sir,” Edith admitted,“l am not. I am
even ignorant of the name of the man who res-
cued me from the road-agents.”

“That’s me you mean, miss. Well, I am Old

Tom Rattler, a sort 0’ a mountain trump. I‘m
not handsome, and have left many busy years
behind me, but I can fight like a mailer yit, and
when it comes to pretty gals, I feel like a boy 0’
forty.”
“ heard of you at Red Notch Camp,”
Edith said; “ we were told that a Mr. Ben
Hall had left there with Tom Rattler and a
'boy called» Little Jove.”

“ That was true; ‘but pardon me. Who are
you, anyhow?”

“ Edith Kingsley,” she answered, “ and with
my uncle was on the way to Compromise Camp
to see Ben Hall when t e outlaws captured us.
Is he still at Compromise?”

“ Ah! you do not know Ben, I see?”

“ No, sir; I never met him. He was a friend
of my brother.”

“ But you have seen him, Miss Edith; Ben

Hall was a prisoner in that same back with .

on.” .
y “ That young man Ben Halli” cried Edith.

“ Yes, that was Ben: I war Out skirmishin’
in the woods ’long t’other side 0' Bonnet Creek
for a deer when you were all held up. ‘ I war
too far away to render assistance and dare not
shoot for fearo’ hurting innocent folks for you
War all bunched together. But the moment you
war all bundled into the hack and started north,
I cut back to Compromise, give the alarm,
mounted Old Peeler and sailed out to foller ye.
I came in hearin’ 0’ the back just as you left the
Bonnet Creek Valley. I rid on close as I dare,
finally left my boss and follered foot.” r

“ Then you were entirely alone?” Edith re-
marked.

“ Yea.” I

“Then what was the meaning of that shot

, fired ‘ust at the moment you came to me by the
hack ” '

, “ I don’t know, Miss Edith. ’ Others might ’a’
been shadowin’ the hack, and then mebby the
variets had fell out ’mongst themselves and
went to shootin’. At any rate, the shot war
fired net in time to help me out, for I war re.
aolv to save you fu’st and the others after’ds,
and here we are all right so far.”

' “ You are a it

'most gateful for your help; but I am afraid
r

 

 

- . v
I

   

, the girl excla
" ' have to depend upcln your kindness and protec-

tion until‘I‘I-cach a place of safety, though I
. r; may>never be able to repay you.”

mfrt
pheasandco 0

hole Reuben and Ben Hall willbemur-

er . If-they are, my mission into this dread-
.flll bill-country will be worse than hopeless l"

' “If thar's anything befalls them, ga1,.re-

member Old Tom Rattler will be your friend

and Protecfiyr ,just as long as you are in the

3 ‘--mountains!

“Oh. thank you! thank you, Tom Rattler!”
med in grateful tones; “I will

. a The pleasure o’ ' om’ somethin’ tor the hap-
, , others pa s me with com-
intsmt. ‘ I’ve neither c ck‘nor child 0’

ind, brave old man, and I am 4

 

my own dependin’ on me in this world, and so I
owe it to my Maker to do somethin’ for human-
ity even though it be in my humble walks. And
now I am havin’ plenty to do in these parts. The
hills hereabouts are swarmin’ with lawless
hordes o’ red-skins and whites. Every camp is
full 0’ sin and Satin. I tell ye ith no place for a
gal like you. The days 0’ chivalry are past,
with Rocky Mountain outlaws, at least. A wo-
man’s no safer than a man here. But now,
miss, if you’ll compose yerself, and rest- yer mind
and body, and perchance get a wink or two 0’.
sleep, you’ll feel refreshed and ’vigorated for a
long, hard tramp when daylight comes.”

“I do not think I shall sleep much, Hr.
Rattler, but I will try and be ready for the
morning’s journey.”

Clad in her heavy waterproof, Edith ex-
perienced no inconvenience from the chill moun-
tain air,and reclining upon a couch of fine bouglls
Old Tom arranged for; her, she rested quite com-
fortab! y and even slept a little.

The night were away and at early dawn Tom
made a search for his horse, but it was gone,
and so the journey was resumed afoot.

When daylight revealed to Edith the homely
yet kindly face of her old rescuer, her hopes
were strengthened and confidence renewed as if
by an inspiration.

They continued on up the defile, then turned
to the right and ascended a long, gentle slope to
the summit of a ridge over which they passed
and then began the descent of another rocky
incline that led down into a deep canyon.

They had almost reached the bottom when
they suddenly landed upon a broad bench or
ledge to find themselves in front of a wide open-
ing or grotto in the hillside, which was hidden
from below by a fringe of bushes that grew
along the edge of the bench.

The moment old Tom glanced into the grotto
an exclamation burst from his lips. He saw it
was a human habitation, though no one was
visible about the place. There were pallets of
furs and blankets on the floor along the wall.‘
Boxes, articles of men’s clothing, a saddle or
two, and a number of rifles were scattered about
the room.

“By the great Roeyorusiansl” Tom exclaim-
ed, “it's a robbers’ must as sure as my name's
Rattler!”

But he had no sooner spoken than he regret-
ted having done so, for he saw Edith’s face
grow white with fear. To make amends, how-
ever, he continued:

“ But the variets are not likely to bother us.
It’s only a relay station where they drap in oc-
casionally, and I’m goin’ to see if I can’t find
Somethin’ fit to eat.” ~

And he did. In a box he found some crackers,
in another some Smoked beef and some other

edibles. He made free with whatever suited r

him, and both he and Edith dined “ sumptuous-
ly ” off the brigands’ supplies.

They had finished their repeat and Old Tom
was filling his pockets for future need when a
shadow. suddenly fell across the entrance to the
grotto and a man confronted them i
. Old Tom quickly grasped his revolver, but the
intruder stepping back a pace so that the light
fell upon his face, the hunter recognized him
and exclaimed: ,

“ By the Rosycruslansl it’s Mr. ‘John Chilton,
0’ Camp Compromise 1”

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE TIGER'S CLAWS APPEAR.

“ FOUND at last!” burst from the lips of John
Chilton, the moment Old Tom recognize:. him,
bowing polite] to Edith. , x . ,

But at soun of his voice the girl started back
and Old Tom saw a look of fear mantle her fair
face.

“ Who do you mean, Mr. Chilton? the‘ gal, or
me or this robbers’ roost?” asked Old Rattler.

‘ The young lady of whose capture by road-
agents you brought word to Compromise,” re-
sponded Chilton.

“ That’s the very gal, Mr. Chilton. Are you
here alonel”. the hunter asked. .

“ Oh‘, no, ’ Chilton answered; “ after you
broukhtnewsof the capture several of the miners
and I struck out. . But you-were too fat, for us,

 

> Battier.”

“ Where are your. friends?” Tom continued to
question. ‘ , ‘
“ Across the valley stopping fbr dinner.”

H Did ryou know of this roost bein’ here, Mr. will

Chilton
“Certainly not, sir," answered Chilton, ,be-
traying some restlessness. “ I thought‘l" saw

some one moving behind those bushes and came

up to investigate. “Will, you fleturn with me

to my party, mini"

 

 
 
  

As if showing an utter contempt for the old

hunter he turned his back almost upon him as I

he asked the question.

Edith noticed the implied insult. Her face
flushed with indignation, and her dark-blue eyes
flashed upon him a look of derision as she re-

lied:
p " I am in Tom Rattler’s care, and where he
goss I will go!”

“ Tom will go with Us, will you not, Rattler?”

“ Not jllst at present,” replied the hunter.

“Why not?”

“ I object to bein’ questioned, Mr. Chilton.”

“Old scoundrell you mean that girl harm!"
exclaimed Chilton, turning with a look of fierce
ra e upon the old man.

‘ Git, now, John Chilton! and be spry 'bout
it!” retorted Rattler, thrusting his revolver into
the man’s Very face.

With a muttered oath Chilton turned and left
the grotto.

“ Thank the Lord!” exclaimed Edith, as he
disappeared, “ that man is one of the three
road—agents that ueld us up last night. His face
was masked, it is true, but I recognized his
voice.”

“And this is one of the villains’ rendezvous,”
said Old Tom; “ he knew it was here, and came
in for somethin’ and was surprised to find us
here. I saw that at a glance, though he tried to
bluff us. It’s a good thing he came alone. But
i must watch the scoundrel, and see where he

oes.”

The old man crept to the mouth of the grotto
and out’upon the ledge, and gazed around him.

It was not over fifty feet down to the bottom
of the canyon from where he stood. From bluff
to bluff, as much as two hundred yards, was a.
level stretch or bed of white sand without a
stone or shrub upon it. Across this open level
Tom saw John Chilton going directly toward
the opposite blufi‘, near the base of which was a
clump of willows, which betokened 'the presence
of a spring.

Into that clump he saw the man disappear,
and in about five minutes later emerge there-
from again followed by no less than ten per-
sons, half of whom were Indians in white men’s
attire.

Straight across toward the grotto they start—
ed, but their steps were suddenly arrested.

From the point where they had started the
sand-bed spread out to the opposite bluff like a
fan being triangular in shape. At the lower
angle or edge grew a few scattering sage~
bushes, and from behind one of these bushes, not
over forty paces from the band led by John
Chilton, a lithe figure suddenly sprung erect and.
made a motion as if throwing somethin , then
turned and sped away along the edge of t 9 bar—
ren obii us] toward the other bluff.

“ tht e ovel by the great Rosycrusiansl"
burst from Old Tom‘s lips, as he threw his gun
in front of him for ins int use.

The Indians and thdiir white allies uttered a
fierce yell, sent severa hots after the boy, and.
then startedin pursuit:

Old Tom raised his rifie,_but did not fire for,-v

from behind a barricade of rocks where ittle
Jove dissipflpeared, there came the report of half
a dozen r ‘ es and two of the alliedgang of out-
laws were seen to fall, and the chase came to an

end. \ ‘
Taken thus by surprise, the band beat a hasty

_ retreat to the cover of the bushes whence they

had come dragging their fallen comrades with.
them, wit John Chilton well in the lead.

“0h, Tom Rattler!” cried Edith, in alarm;
“ what does that all mean i”

“ Peace to you; Miss Edith,” responded the
old man; “ friends as well as enemies are near.
and the latter have just been whipped back to
their hiding- lace!”

Rattler’s e evation enabled him to see the po-
sitions of both friends and foes, and: at not
be seen. The .bsrriCade of rocks behin which
Little Jove disappeared was at one corner of
the trianglar opening and about the same dis-
tance from the grotto as the enemy’s covert.
He could make out about six persons lying and

kneeling behind the r« icks, and one of the six he. .

was almost certain was Kit Bandy. ,

After watching them for some minutes, Tom
becameksatisfied tgat‘his and Edith’shpresem
was un nownto t eparty and thong tit pot-
sible that they were ' under the impres-
sion that the girl was a cap ve in the clump of

own. ' -

expose themselves to the enem ’s rifles, and

to 'h fear they might depart,

to othegdprescnce known.
He told-

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not the foe. This she did, and then Old Tom

Xred off his revolver twice. They saw the men
rhind the rocks look their way. Edith waved
-l.er handkerchief to them, and immediately a
ringing shout came up from the valley.

In the excitement consequent upon the dis-
covery one or two of the men exposed them-
selves above the rocks, and the outlaws sent
half a dozen bullets whistling over their heads,
'that caused every man to “duck” down in a
twinkling.

The situat: on was rather a peculiar one. Two
parties were lying in wait to kill each other,
neither daring to venture from its position with-
out exposure to deadly Winchesters, while the
same danger kept the two parties of friends
.apart.

A serious loo‘: settled over Tom’s face that
Edith did not tail to notice. The old.veteran
knew that the situation was not only a peculiar
one, but a critical one that must finally termi-
mate in bloodshed and death!

CHAPTER XlX.
TOM aar’rLER‘s BUSE.

THERE were seven persons concealed behind
"the barricade of rocks be10w the grotto. Little
Jove, Kit Bandy, Ichabod Flea, Ben Hall,
Mayor Jack Game, and two miners of Compro-
mise Camp were there.

They were in search of Edith Kingsley. The
miner havin heard from Rattler of the cap-
ture of Ben all and Star-Route Sam’s passen-
gers, had hastened in pursuit. On the road
they met lcbabod Flea on his way to join Bandy
at Camp Compromise, and the little detective
turned back with them, and the four had the
good fortune to meet Bandy and his two friends
only in the morning.

Little Jove having struck the trail of a part
of men supposed to be outlaws thlgy had to -
sawed it up expecting to find Miss ingsley in
their wer.

At the ssndlot in the canyon they discov-
ered the robber-gang had halted, and Little
Jove was sent to reconnoiter their position in
the willows with the result already narrated.

Of course, Jove did not gain the information
.rsought, but the appearance of the girl on the
ledge settled the question as to her where-
abouts.

“1’” bet a laud-title in the lar regions,”
exclaimed Old Kit after the gir had been dis-
covered, “that Old Tom Rattler is up there
With that gal, and if he is I’ll draw a head on
him at sight, the old thief l”

“If so,” said Ben Hall, "how much trouble,
and suffering no doubt, might have been es-

caped had you and Jove known that he was
about when you attacked those outlaws.”

“ Yes, all would now be safe in Compromise,”
'Old Kit observed, “but then we all acted as
we saw best, under the circumstances. I reckon
there’ll be some more bloodshed before we get
to the al or she gets to us. Them variets
know w eres he is, and war trapsein’ over there
when Little Jove created a sensation among
them. If Old Tom Rat is up there I’ll bet
his ole-eyes are glued on that willer-patch. and
his finger on the trigger of his gun, and his
big heart pumpin’ away like an engine.”

“its a three-cornered affair, isn’t it, Kit?”
Little Jove remarked, “and one party’s afraid
to venture out, and the other dassent. Holy
mistl how I’d like to ker-sock a few stones
into that kiyote nest over there!"

“If it wasn’t for wastin’ lead I’d throw a
feeler or two into that brush for the fun 0’ it.”
Kit declared. “It is a rather humiliatin’ posi-
tion for a candidate for Congress ‘and the
Mayor of Compromise wallerin’ in the dirt here
behind these rocks. I’d rather fight if that
dum d Outfit ’d come out on the sand. But
thev’r goin‘ to be cautious, and if we don‘t
get that gal down from there before dark, we’ll
have a time o’ it.”

“ Maybe she can’t get down from there,”
said Jack Game.

“And it may be she is not the girl we are
after,” said Ben Hall.
tirely different from what Miss Kingsley was
when I last saw her.”

“ Well, it’s some woman, anyh0w,” replied
Kit, “and that’s enough for me, unless she’s
a siren tryin’ to decoy us into a trap-see!
there she stands again. cloaked, hooded and I
believe veiled. By the born 0’ Joshua! boys,

' she‘s de din’ the hill! she means to bring
this matte to a close! Now look out for the
savages if she comes this we —by heavens!
there they come now! Up, me , and forward
to meet them i”

The supreme moment had indeed come. The
-_,girl ran down the hill and turned and started

 

 

That girl is dressed en- ,

; t0ward Bandy and his friends. The allied out-
! laws burst from their covert witha yell and ran
like racers across the opening in an endeavor to
cut her off, while Bandy and his party sped
with equal swiftness to meet her.

Two red-skins took the lead of their party and
like greyhounds flew across the barren. They
were almost upon the fugitive when to the utter
amazement of all she stopped, turned suddenly
and, raising a revolver, shot the two savages
dead, one of them plunging forward and falling
at her feet.

“ Brave gal!" shouted Old Kit.

By this time the two parties were coming face
to face, the fugitivs between them. Rifles and
revolvers began to ring out, and the fugitive
fell gorward at full length upon her face in the
san .

Apast her prostrate form swept the rescuers
and met the foe in the shock of battle.

With the very first blow, however the foe
recalled, broke and ran. But that one blow was
a terrible death-dealer, and one half the out-
laws went down at the crack of the rescuers’
revolvers.

All but Kit Bandy started,on in pursuit of
the panic-stricken survivors who now fled up
the canyon.

The old detective stopped, and lifting the
still prostrate form of the woman from the
ground in his strong arms, started with her to-
ward the blufis, not certain whether she had
been shot by the foe or had only fainted.

“ There comes another woman !" suddenly
burst from Jack Game’s lips, and glancing to
the right Bandy saw, true enough, a second
woman with hared head and white face, come
running toward him from the same direction
the limo form in his arms had come.

And almost simultaneous with this discovery
life seemed revived in the burden in Old Kit’s
arms, for it wriggled like an eel from his clasp,
stood erect, threw aside hood and vail, and
revealed the smiling, triumphant face of Old
Tom Rattler!

 

CHAPTER XX.
causnn BY ran DISMAL Dr.er MYSTERY.

WITH a look of the most infinite disgust and
unutterable scorn depicted upon his face, Kit
Bandy recoiled from the smiling Tom Rattler,
and grasping his revolver, exclaimed:

“ It you have anything to say, Old Tom, say
it quick! Your days 0’ deception are num-
beredl”

“Howdy, Kitsie Band valorious knight o’ the
mountains?” was Old om’s reply, advancing
with outstretched hands toward the old detect-
ive.

Kit grasped the hand, and his clouded face
burst into sunshine as he exclaimed:

“i’ll forgive you once more, Tom Rattler.
God bless your cunnin’little carcass! but [say
‘ it was very mean to rob the girl 0’ her clothes
and then desart her. But she’s safe. too, thank
Heaven 1”

Almost breathless Edith approached, escorted
by Little Jove. Old 'l‘om quickly and gallant-
Iy assisted her to don her water-proof that had
served him so well, saying, as he did so:

“The ruse worked like a charm, Miss Kings-
ley, and you are safe with valiant friends.
Here’s Old Kit Bandy: you can depend upon his
fightin’ qualities and courage but not on what
he tells you; and this is Little Jove, the Moun-
tain Thunderbolt; and here’s Ben Hall, the
friend 0’ your dead brother.”

The eyes of the two young people met, and as
Ediith extended her trembling hand to Ben, she
sau :

“ I am so glad 1”

“It was under as trying circumstances as
these we met before, Miss Kingsley, though un-
kno wn to each other. I thank God we are safe
% lllastl” w as the earnest response of Ben

a .

“ But, oh! what has been the awful cost, Mr.
Hall?" exclaimed Edith, glancing at the dead
bodies near, while her ears were being assailed
by the groans and cries of the wounded that
lay writhing in the hot sand.

I “Come, Miss Hall,” urged Ben, “you must
not remain here.”

He escorted her to a seat on a rock at the foot
of the blufl’.

Old Kit and Tom turned their attention to the
battlefield, and found their victory had not been
bloodless. One of Jack Game’s miner-friends
had been slain, while Jack himself and Ichabod
Flea were wounded. But their injuries were
slight, and they remained on active duty.

Half the enemy had been killed and wounded

 

 

 

at the first discharge of the rescuers’ revolver.
Two of their wounded were left on the field. and
one of these Old Tom recognized as John
Chilton, whose face was growing pallid with
death.

“ By the great Rosycrusians!” the old hunter
exclaimed, “ you‘re here, young man. The
wages 0’ sin is death. You (1 ought to ’a’ been
in better business, John Chilton. Your course
as a road-agent and a liar were short, and
you’d better be makin’ your peace with your
Maker.”

“ Is Ben Hall with
asked.

H Yes.”

“ Tell him I would like to speak with him.”

Ben Hall was summoned to the side of the dy-
ing man. . _

“ Do you see this, Hall?” he asked. painting
to 0%)108 bit of ribbon on his breast stained with
bl .

“ Yes,”ansWered Ben; “ I saw it yesterday
morning when you came into the post-ofiice at
Com romise.” -

“ nd you were one, tool”

“ Well?” was young Hall’s only answer, hope-
ful that the Mystery of the Dismal Desert was
at last about to be revealed.

“ You know, of course, why I wear it!” Chil-
ton observed.

“ l have nothing to say," answered Hall.

A grim smile passed over Chilton's allid face.

“ You are observing ‘ Silent Honor s’ instruc-
tions to the letter,” he said. “A friend and I
riding acress that barren found a dead horse.
On it was a saddle, and on the skirts of that
saddle were writte-i— Well, you know what?”

“ .xactly,” Ben answered, with a nodding of
the head.

“I have been endeavoring to find ‘ Silent
Honor,’ ” Chilton went on, “ and get poasession
of the unknowu dead man’s gold by book or
crook. i noticed that girl, E iith Kingsley, also,
wore a badge of blue. Tnat accursed secret has
about cost me my life. I don’t think I‘ll get
onto my feet again. Now, I tell you this in
justice to m friend who was with me when We
found that ead horse on the desert. You may
meet him wearing the blue ribbon—in search of
‘ Silent Honor,’ but,as a dying man I want to say
to you that he isan honorable man, and because
you find me here, he is not to be associated with
robbers and road-agents. His motives, too, are
honorable, for he suspects the dead man is a
friend of his and is anxious to ascertain the
facts if possible. His friend left camp during
his absence and has not been heard of since, and
he knew he had considerable gold before be dis-
appeared.”

Ben was strongly tempted to ask the name of
that missing friend, but in the presence of those
around him the admonition of “ Silent Honor”
to “ he careful ”—“ ask no questions until ques-
tioned ” sealed his lips. ,

By request of the w0unded man he was car-
ried to the grotto to die, as was also another
Wounded outlaw, and there the two were left.

The party that carried them up brought back
a blanket each and a supply of such food as they
found in the “ roost. ”

A shallow grave was scooped out in the sand
and the body of the dead miner interred, and
then the party set off down the canyon in the
gathering shadows of night. Nor was their de-
parture from the barren made a moment too
soon, for they were scarce) y under covsr of the
woods beyond the opening when a score and a
half of howling red-skins and outlaws under
Captain Jake Sharks, himself, burst like a whirl-
wind into the barren from the woods above!

CHAPTER XXI.
ON THE RETREAT.

THE little partv of rescuers was not ignorant
of the appearance of the outlaws upon the bar.
ren, hurried there no doubt by those who had
escaiwd from the fight.

With Little Jove in the lead as guide, Tom
Rattler en-l Ichabod Flea took the responsible
and now dangerous position of rear guard.

Ben Hall acted as E lith Ixmgslety’s escort,
and in this order retreat was made on the dou-
ble-quick for awhile. and then they settled down
to a steady gait.

That they would be followed they had no
doubt, and. in hopes of throwmg the robbers 08
their trail, Little ove decided to lead his friends
over into Black Rock Canyon, and thence to
Red Notch Camp instead of to Camp Compro-
mise. '

Of course, it was with the general approval of
all that this diversion was decided u n.

The boy proved himself a c nreful and skillful
guide, and y midnight they were several miles

you?” the dying man feeny

 

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Old Eitpandy’s Compromise.

  

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from the scene of Edith and Tom’s rescue from
the grotto.

But Edith was showing signs of fatigue,
though she made no complaint, and, as the
scouts, Rattler and Flea, reported no enemy in
sight or hearing, a halt was made for the rest of
the night.

Under an overhanging bluff a good shelter
was found.

Tom Rattler and Little Jove Were relieved of 1

further duty, for they had slept none the pre-
vious night. Ichabod Flea and Ben Hall were
to take the first watch, and at once went on
duty. They were to be relieved by Kit Bandy
andh Jack Game about three o‘clock in the
ni t.

a couch of the blankets brought from the
robbers’ “ roost” was assigned Edith, and thus
all was arran ed for the night.

When Old it finally sat down, he said, with
a deep-drawn breath of relief :

“This is bodily comfort, at last, and if it
wasn’t for the sadness I feel on account of Old
Tom Rattler, I’d be perfectly and serenely
happy.”

“Don’t let a thought ’hout me disturb your
massive mind,Kitsie, ’responded Old Tom; “ I’ll
stay ’round till ye‘r’ safe.”

" If you do, I hope you’ll not rob Miss Edith
0’ her clothes to git away in when danger assails
us,” retorted Bandy.
little the meanest trick 0’ your tempestuous ole
life, and I’m ashamed 0’ you. But then you’re
gittin’ old and doted and, and—”

“ Mr. Bandy,” broke in Edith “ I assure you
his motives in disguising himself in my water-
proof and vail were most honorable. He did it
to draw the enemy out before dark and end the
terrible suspense. Tom Rattler is a brave, kind
and unselfish man.”

“ On your account, miss, I‘ll forgive the ole
tempest just one time more,” Kit said; “but
when I think 0’ how I went trottin’ across that
sand with the old sinner, snickerin’ of course, in
my arms, it makes me feel cheap. He‘s iayed
that infernal trick on me before: once ftoted
him two miles,‘believin’ him a helpless woman,
only to find out, when I got to a light ready to
drop with exhaustion, it was Old Tom. By the
horn 0’ Joshua! the next time will be the last!”

“Kitsie,” said Did Tom in his droll way,
“ these pie might believe what you’re sayin’
if you dn’t have a red record as a fraud and a
truth-twister.

“ When as Jedge J or Sampson Trump, you
swooped down upon the nnocent miners 0’ Com-
promise in derby hat and long-tailed coat, a
candidate for Congress, and stood up and lied
to them by the hour and the miles like a big-
nosed Jew, whar then war yer tender, dove-like

conscience!

“ on, b the great Rosycrusiansl the ijee, of
Old Kit ndy in Congress tellin’ his ole worm-
eatin’ stories ’bout Sabina, his wife, and his

martyrdom at the President’s blow-out! Would-

. n’t the eagle scream? Wouldn’t there be a

wild, mad rush to hear the ole lilly-lipped hum-
mer from the Rockies warble his eloquent
ton e, and war his majestic form about as
he t undered an roared, and lied for a ’propri-
ation for to ’build Compromise a railroad and
improve the nangation o’ Bonnet Creek? Jee-
rusaieml .Bandy the deetective, the rescuer the
gallant, in Con eesl I‘ll bet cents to do s

e’d undertake rescue the Goddess 0’ Liberty
from her perilous position on the big dome, and
whisper words 0’ sweetness in her wooden earl
- Ole Kit’s a mighty fool ’bout the ladies I”

" Say Thomas, ’ said Bandy, when the laugh
on him had subsided, “ hadn’t you better go to
bed and take yer mouth with you? It’ gittin’
nois and mixed up and don’t track well.”

“ might, Kitsie,” was Tom’s reply, and
stretching himself on the bare earth, is head
on his arm, the brave, jolly old veteran soon fell

eep.

Little Jove and Joe Ford, the wounded miner,
fell asleep near him, while Edith slumbered on
her couch of blankets. Only Old Kit and Jack
Game remained awake, and after discussing the
£3315 of their! situation awhile, Bandy finally

“ J ack. you asked me last night the_ object of
my owning to Compromise in disguise and in
making that speech, and now, seeing our trip
may emu come to an end, barring no further
trouble and since I’ve found you to be made of
pure metal, I’m going to tell you what I came
to Compromise for, for I may need your help.

“It’s not often I talk when I’m on a trail, 110'
less it’s to kill time. and sometimes have to do
hay doomns of beating around the bushes to get

. the bird in the branches.
“ But my story is this: Years ago, as Peter

0

“Oh. Tomi that war a .

9 Pindar says, a great forgery Was committed On

a Montreal bank, in Canada. The crime was
f traced to one Doctor Arthur Redmon, and it
looked as though the doctor would dispense pills
in the ‘Pen,’if at all. He protested his inno-
cence, but the evidence was plain and strong, as
it seemed then.

“ The doctor was a man in middle life, with a
wife and one child—a girl. He and his wife oc-
cupied a high social position. He was a fine
’ physician and a devout Christian.

“ Well, before his trial came on, the very
men against whom the forgery was committed
——nien that’d been his friends—agreed to com-
promise the matter with him if he’d slip away
—after turning over his property to his bonds-
men—go to some foreign country, change his
name and begin life anew.

“ At first he rejected the proposition with in-
dignation and scorn, still declaring his entire
innocence, and that running away would be an
admission of guilt.

“ At length, however, he yielded to their per-
suasions, though under protest, and disappeared
with wife, baby, bag and baggage. His bonds-
men then took possession of his property and
! forked over the forfeited bail.

“ His disappearance was the sensation of the
day, then the matter began to quiet down and
1 finally became almost forgotten. But ’bout a
: year or so ago it was revived after some fifteen
lyears of rest. One Conrad Wells, a ten-year
risoner, dying, made a confession to the war-
en and to one o’ the bank officials that he was
the real culprit in the Redmon bank-forgery af-
fair, and that Doctor Redmon was as innocent
of the crime as a babe unborn.

“ The forger , he admitted, had been efl’ected
Byethe help 0 one Henrique Dubien, a young

nch-Canadian writing-master who was a
wizard with the pen.

“ Dubien was remembered as a sharp, shrewd
youn fellow, who disappeared from Montreal
short y after the forgery was committed. Wells
said he came to the States and had last heard of
him, three years before, at Leadville, under an
enumed name, of course.

“But now comes Doctor Redmon’s friends
offering a big reward for the apprehension of
Dubien. They mean to clear the mm; of Dec-
tor Redmon of the stain upon it, whether he is
ever found or not.

“ The detectives raked together a few old
s imens of Dubien’e handwrite, and with
$30.9 struck out to find the tricky forger. He
was a fine penman and an original man.
His style was Dubien’s and Dubien’s ouifve.n

“ The case was placed in my hands six months

0, and I began working the cam and towns.

ow, mayor, if there’s any one ing I pride
myself on it’s dig in’ facts out of men’s hand-
writing, and I don t believe there’s a man that
zips that can disguise his hand write so’s I can’t

it. He might lose his right arm and learn
to write with his left hand, and do it miserably,
but the idea of forms leftin the mind will be
transferred to the hand, and there will be a
similarity. Ten, twenty or fifty years will not
change the personal characte istics of a man’s
handwrite. It’s true, a skillful penman can
forge another’s name, as Dubien did, and leave
no trace of self, but when that is done he goes
back to self, and whether he follers teaching,
digging gold, shoveling dirt, or wnaCKing-bulls,
the old style will show up whenever he touches

a n.

ReI studied Dubien‘s handwrite, and then re
solved to find him if he was in Colorado. As I
said before, he was sailing under a false name.
When he left Canada he was a beardless man
of twenty. Years had, no doubt, changed him
into a bearded man whom nobody, who had
known him in Montreal. would be able to recog-
nize. His handwrite was the only means of
identity.

“ Well, the first camp I worked was for sub-
scriptions for a book on “ Poker Playing and
Mixing Fancy Drinks.” Everybody in the
place subscribed, and a few took two copies.
But Dubien wasn’ta subscriber.

“ I next circulated a petition in another place
for increased mail facilities in that and other
camps. Still no Dubien. ‘

“ in the next camp another petition was circu-
lated asking a big liquor dealer in Denver to
start a. branch store in the place. Everybody
there signed that paper in a holy jifi'y. And
still no Dubien-fist appeared.

.“ Then as my next expedient I struck out for
Congress. My first h was delivered in
your camp, and there secured the pledge of
the miners in writin ,. As you remember, all
signed my per. an , by the horn 0’ Joshua!
my man Du ien’s name was among the signers!”

 

 

“ The nation, you say!” exclaimed Mayor
Game.

“That’s a fact, Mr. Game, unless I’m sadly
fooled the fu’st time in tWenty years.”

“ Why didn’t you make the arrest?” asked,
Game.
“I thought I’d wait until morning to ace what
that fellow passing himself for Kit Bandy nas
up to. and I found out. The rest you know.”

“Well, I declare!” said Jack Game, “ I can’t
thipk who in all Compromise your forger could
be

“Mayor, I don’t always talk out loud when
I’m on a hunt, for fear of flushing my bird, but
since I find you‘re made of Clear bell-metal,l
don’t mind telling you that the first letters of
his name are—Bob Mason."

“Whatl the Marshal o’ Compromise Camp?”
exclaimed Mayor Game.

“ The Marshal of Compromise Camp!” repeats
ed Old Kit.

 

CHAPTER XXII.
AGAIN IN DANGER.

THE night passed without the occurrence of a
single incident to mar the rest of the little arty
and by daybreak they were on the move, ittle
Jove in the lead and Old Tom Rattler. refreshed
by a few hours’ sleep, acting as rear guard. All
felt that the outlaws had been successfully elud-
ed, but in this belief they were doomed to bitter
disappointment. They were nearing Black
Rock Canyon when the crack of a rifle in the
rear suddenly broke upon the mornin quiet.

“ That was Old Tom’s rifle sure as oath 1” ex-
claimed Old Kit.

The report brought Little Jove fiying back to
the main party and Old Tom came hurrying up-
from the rear.

“ What‘s the matter, Tom ?" inquired Kit as
the hunter approached.

“The varlets are after us more than a score
strong!” Tom answered; “ red~skins and white~
skins are in the gangl I lugged their scout
through his breakfast. he gang was ’bont
half a mile behind him, some on hoesback and
some on foot. Kinie, if you ever git to Cone
gressnwe’ve got to do somelively campaign work
now!

Ben Hall with Edith hurried forward while
the others dropped a short ways behind to cover
their retreat.

The eye and ear of every man was now on the.
alert and just as they bebouched into the b
canyon half a dozen mounted outlaws dash
suddenly into eight.

Ua discovering the hi itives the villains drew
rein and one of them a revolver into the
git evidently to hurry forward the rest of the

d

n 0

Old Tom could not rosist the temptation of a
shot at the brigands. Estimating the distance
at two hundred yards he sighted his Winchester
and fired. But the distance must have been
greater, for the ball fell below the mark : but it
struck the horse of the rider aimed at, and the»;
animal made a wild lungs, threw its master and
ran away.

“A little more elevation, Thomas,” said Old
Kit, but before Rattler could try a second shot
the robbers fell back to cover.

0n up the canyon the retreat was pushed with,

all speed possible.

Ben Hal did not fail to rfinize the and
over which he and Fred eston he once
passed, and when he realized that they would
pass Fred’s grave if lpermitted to continue on, a
feeling of sadness t] ed his heart.

Braver Edith Kingsley conducted herself in
that hour of greatest ril Her calmness and
peerless courage won be admiration of her es-
cort.

The entire rty of allied robbers finally came
into sight. here were at least five-and'twenty
of them, the 'majority being Indians, and, no
doubt, as murderous a gang as ever was banded
together.

All the fugitives were well armed, but Old
Tom and Little Jove being the most skillful
in use of the rifle were depended upon to keep
the foe at a safe distance behind.

The gang showed no disposition to make a
charge, and this led Band to fear they would
attempt to flank them. ut so long as the
crowd kept its number, barring one that would
occasions ly drop out by virtue of Tom’s or
J Ove’s skillful marksmanshi , there was no dan-
ger of that kind to be a pre ended.

Occasionally a shot mm the pursuers came
their way and it was evident that they were
well-arm , but rmarksmen at long range.

“ I tell you what Kitsie,” Old Tom finally ob—
served, in his droll way, “if this is runnin’ for

  

  

14

 
 

Congress, it’s a neck—and-neck race between you
and Captain Sharke.”

“ He's g t the most voters with him now,
Toni,” Kit replied, “ but I’ve got ‘ repeaters’
enough to down him. Just let them come for-
ward and force the fight.”

But this the gang was not dispOseil to do de-
spite its superior numbers, and this fact still
kept Bandy uneasy. If they were not waiting
the actions of an party already sent around
through the hills to head them off, they must be,
he thought, waiting for an opportunity to make
such a move whenever the nature of the canyon
would enable them to send out “ flankers.”

Thus for some hours the retreat and pursuit
continued, but Ben Hall finally noticed that
Edith’s strength was failing, despite her splen-
did coura e.

FinallygBen spoke of the fact to Old Kit, who
in turn went to Little Jove and asked:

“ Thunderbolt, don’t you know of some place
where we can stop and defend ourselves ’g’inst
that gang of hellyons without too much expos-
ure? We’ve got to fight again before we’re out
of this, and we want all the advantage of posi-
tion we can secure. If we can get into a retreat
'of some kind, we might hold them off till we can
send for help.”

“ I am sure I can find a place, Kit,” Jove re-
plied after a moment’s reflection. “Shall I run
.ahead and try?”

“ Shin out, boy, and report as soon as you can.”

Like a young deer the tireless boy was of! up
the canyon, passing Ben and Edith with a wave
of the hand, and soon a bend in the winding can-

,yon hid him from view.

It was placing great confidence in the boy, but
Bandy had found him to be a youth of keen per-
ceptions and almost faultless in his knowledge of
mountain-craft.

The lad was gone over an hour before he ap-
peared in sight again, coming on a dog-trot.

“ How is it, J ovel” Kit asked, as he ap-
proached.

“ I’ve found one,” answered the boy, in ap-
parent delight' “a place where we can wallop
all creation and not ex‘posed to much danger.
But you must let me take Miss Edith on ahead
and get her secure before the others come up,
for i the Ingins ’d’ see what we were up to,
they might try to prevent it by a dash, and then
I know the gal ’d’ neVer be able to get to in
safgtyigla’ce, though we men-folks cou d tumb e
ri t .'

g‘ What kind of a place is it, anyhow?” asked
Old Kit.

“ Oh, it’s a holy mister!” replied Jove, “ and
you’ll say so, too, when you get there.”

“ Go ahead with the gal,” said Kit, “ and
we’ll beat the varlets back till you smuggle her
.awa .

E ith was not reluctant to go on with the
gallant little mountaineer, and the two set ofi.’ at
a brisk walk, Ben Hal! taking his place in the
ranks, rifle in hand, to assist in holding back
the robbers who were ever pressing on in sight.

The assurance of reachinga lace of safety
seemed to give Edith new stren h and c rage,
and she bounded along at Jove’s side w her
wonted sprightly step.

They were nearing a point in the canyon
where, on the left, precipitous bluffs reared their
black, frowning heads into the sky, making the

lace so foreboding that, in spite of herself,

dith felt a sense of fear creeping over her.
She glanced‘back. The men .were not in sight,
and, unable to remain silent lon or, she said:

“ Oh! what a dreadful place t is is!”

“ It is a little ruesoms and chilly-like, but it
won’t last long,’ assured Jove, turning in to-
ward the blufif on the left. ‘

Coming to some bushes the pushed their
way through them, and enter a dark rent or
crevice in the great rock-wall before them.

Edith paused as if afraid to go further. She
gazed upward where the merest thread of light
could be seen hundreds of feet above. Before
them all was darkness.

“ Come, Miss Edith,” said Jove in an assuring
voice, “ don’t be afraid now.”

He took her by the arm and conducted her
alon the narrow way Into total darkness,
andt are, as be her arm, she uttered a
or of fear.

‘ Don’t git scared, Edith, you’ll soon be in the
li h: againa” thve figriadgier.

enagan egr et ararm out] a
ed and herself led along and up angl upytlgdi'g:
mal rent.

Finally rays of Ii ht appeared before her, and.
after scram ling a ong some distance further,
she suddenly emerged nto a soft, subdued light
:pon a platform of rock surrounded upon all

dss by towering walls of solid rock.

Old Kit Bandy’s Compromise.

 

I Quickly the girl glanced around her as if
dazed by her coming from the darkness into
light. Little Jove was not to be seen, but in his
stead a young girl of entrancing beauty, with
soulful dark eyes and face wreathed in a sweet,
tender smile, stood before her!

CHAPTER XXIII.
“ woman UP.”

LITTLE J ow; was absent about an hour when
he rejoined his friends in the canyon.

“ Now, folks,” he said, his face aglow, and
his eyes sparkling with conscious pride, “let’s
hump right along and we’ll soon be in shape to
welcome them kioodlesto death and distruction!
The gal’s safe!"

“ Forward, men!” commanded Old Kit, lead-
ing off with long strides.

‘ The judge runs well for safety. as well as
Congress,” Old Tom facetiously observed. “ If
a man’s heels ever got him to Washington,
Kitsie’d be as good as elected and sworn in. ’

The outlaw mistrusted what was up and be-
gan to crowd upon the fugitives with the result
of a lively exchange of shots.

As they advanced, Ben Hall discovered the
fact that they were in the vicinity of Fred
Weston’s grave, but before he could locate the
exact spot, Little Jove turned aside, led them
through a strip of bushes, u a smooth, shrub-
less incline to the dark mout of a wide excava-
tion in the towering blufi’. '

“ In there folks is safety,” said Little Jove,
“ but I’ll stay outside to brin assistance, if it
is needvdi I’ll dodge to kiood es and don’t you
f0 et it.”

a next instant he had vanished, and men
clambered over a ridge of broken rocks and
spalds that had fallen from the face of the cliff
and formed a barricade before the excavation,
almost closing the entrance.

It was so dark in the retreat that its extremi-
ties were lost in the gloom. Old Tom Rattler
quickly noted its tad vantages, barring food
and water, as a p ace of defense.

Naturally suppOsin that Edith had been left
in the place, Ben Hal began gro ing about to
find her. Failing in so doing he called her
name, but there was no response. A thorough
search of the place was made. She was not
there!

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Ben Hall, “ can
it be possible that the boy concealed her some-
where else?”

“That’s inst what he has done,” answored
Kit, “ and t accounts for his wantin’ to keep
out of here.” '

“ Can it be he is playing some deception?"
questioned Hall.

“ Innocent deception, Ben 'amin,” Kit an-
swered; “ that boy is not a be ’boy, but a won-
derfully shrewd and ous youth for one of
his years, and always eeps something back as
s. reserved power. We’ve got to accept the
situation just as he has arranged it for us, and
depend on that reserved forceh Ah! there goes
the first shot of our defense!”

And Old Rattler fired it. He and Ichabod
Flea had posted th mselves behind the rock
barricade at the entrance and watched the com-
ing of the fee. A savage trailin them throu h
the bushes unwittingly exposed imeelf to t e
3881:): the watchers and paid the penalty with

 

e. -
From the foot of the slope the entrance to the
retreat could not be seen, on account of the
barricade of spalds and rocks, and yet the de-
fenders could clearl see all before them down
to the frin e of bus es.

At first twas thou ht Tom’s shot would 10-
cate their position to t e foe, and an attack was
'momentarily expected; but when an hour passed
and no enemy appeared in sight, Old Tom thus
addressed Bandy:

“ Say, Con ressman Band , I’m thinkin’
you’ve let Litt e Jove play a hunderbolt of a
trick on us; he’s ‘ Rugged ’ us up here and
skipped with the ga . The boy has outwitted
the great and original Kit Bandy! Can such
thin s be and not overcome us i”

“ homas, for once in your life you’ve made
a remark that sounds like the truth ” responded
Kit; “ I can’t understand the con uct of that
boy in hidin’ the girl away. I hope he’s not
undertaken a ame that’ll fail him.”

“Surel he now what he was doin ," added
Ben H . “At least, I shall give 'm that
credit until I know difi’erent.”

“ Ah! see yonder! a red-skin climbin’ the op-
posite blufl! suddenl exclaimed Ichabod Flea.

The savage was a ong way 08, but Old Tom
sighted his rifle for four hundred yards and
fired. The ball struck just above the red—skin’s
head, a little cloud of dust pumng out from the

 

 

! hillside. But it was so close that the Indian be.

came frightened and speedin disappeared from
sight down the bluff.

“The Varmint doubtless got what he went
after,” said Kit, “ the smoke 0’ your gun
telling him exactly where we-’uns are ‘ jugged’
u '77

“Then let the varlets come on with their
corkscrew and tap the jug,” answered Tom;
“ and I’ll guarantee ’em a dose that‘ll make ’em
weary 0’ this ole world.” .

Quiet continued in the canyon. Nothing fur-
ther was heard or seen of the foe as the hours
dragged on, but the besieged did not, for a mo-
ment, think they had withdrawn from the vicin-
ity, but on the contrary were lying in wait for
a favorable opportunity to strike. ' If they were
following the tactics of the Indian that time
might come shortly after nightfall, or Just be—
fore daylight. If they had settled down deter-
mined to starve them out the wisdom 'and fore-
sight of Little Jove in keeping outside would
without doubt bring relief. .

In either case there was nothing in the Situa-
tion to discourage them exccpt the uncertainty
of Edith Kingsley’s safety.

Noon passed without dinner, and as night
drew on space there was no pros t for en per.

As soon as darkness fell Old om and cha-
bod Flea took their positions on guard. Half
an hour had passed when a low whistle from
Rattler’s lips Signaled the others to his side.

“ They’re comin’!” the old hunter whispered;
“ they’re creepin’ up the slope now! Lay. low,
boys! watch the jagged top of the barricade
against the starry s y and plug it to every
head that shows above it I”

Ever man lay down, revolvers in hand. A
dead silence settled over the place soon to be
broken by the horrible din of a murderous

.—

CHAPTER XXIV.
111an FROM THE GRAVE.

THE silence preceding the burst of the storm
was intense, and was suddenly broken from an
unexpected quarter.

A rifle on the bluff over the cavern rung out.
A death-yell came up from the slope below.

“ Little Jove I” nvoluntarily burst from
Bandy’s lips, but further words were cut of! by
a frightfu yell.

Then up to the barricade rushed the outlaws
in a body and began to scramble over it.

The revolvers of the heel ed blazed in their
very faces. Lying low_ the etenders could see
the enemy’s forms against the sky as they ap-
peared above the barricade.

The robbers rushed onto death with a brave
worthy of a better cause. Some fell back d ,
some dropped across the barricade, and a few
fell inside the defense. But not a man t
over the wall alive, and at last, without ens:-
ing a sin !e blow, the survivors of the murder-
ous assau t beat an inglorious retreat to cover,
Leasing half their number dead or wounded be-

in .

To the defenders it was a bloodless victory,
not a man receiving even a scratch.

Old Tom and Bandy unabletorestrain their
emotions gave utterance to a yell of triumph that
could have been heard for miles.

As the smoke in the cavern cleared away the
party was suddenly startled by the discovery of
a dim light at one side of the cavern moving
toward them.

“ Whol—what is it?” demanded Old Tom,
throxving his rifle in front of him.

“Little Jove,” was the answer that greeted
their ours: “is anybody hurt, Tom!" -

“Nobody but the outlaws and they got hit
with a tem est.” ' ‘

“ Where n thunder did you come from, J ove?”
demanded Old Kit in astonishment.

“ Boy, whar’s the gall” put in Jack Game.

Little Jove approached the astonished part
carrying a lantern, his boyish face aglow wi
joyful excitement. .

‘ I came in through a hole in the wall that had
been blocked with stone. Isn’t this a holy mister
of a defense?” .

“ You young thundergustianl” exclaimed Old
Kit, “you knew all the time ’bout this place,
and have played it on us in great shape!”

The bo burst intoa pea] of laughter that rung
throu h be cavern like the laugh of a satyr.

“ hat’s 'yer next scheme, Jovel” asked
Mayor Game.

‘_‘ I want Ben 'Hall to go with me. I’ve some-
thin’to tell him and show him, and I’d advise
the rest of you to keep your lockers peeled. All
the outlaws ar’n’t dead yit, nor do I think they’ll
leave till they git another good swattin’.”

battle! fl

The boy walked away in the direction he had‘

 

1.-.. ..

 

 

 

Old Kit Bandy’s Compromise.

 

    

7 come and Ben Hall f0110wed him. They passed
,.,\f'x,s,from the cave into a narrow passage that led
‘ a" ll here and there and finally brought them into the
=, opening where we left Edith Kingsley with that
,-.,f strange, beautiful girl. llerethey paused. lien
 looked ‘around him. A solid wall of stone was
,‘3 on every side. He looked up and saw an open
. 1 patch of sky.
 “ Ben do you know we are near the grave of
' Fred Weston!" the young mountaineer now
' 'asked.
--' “I do, Jove.” aswered Hall sadly.
”, “Come on, Ben,” and the buy again started
,1 ofi’. He led the way across the open court,
 through another passage, and then up a flight
g'v‘ of steps cut in the solid rock.
i. A pace or two from the t0p of the stairs he
- pushed aside a curtain and ushered Ben into a
-, room flooded with light.
’ That room was occupied by a single person—
a man, who ar0se and came to meet them. He
" was a young man with a thin, emaciated face.
- 'whiésh in the artifich light, wore the pallor of
dea h.
Ben looked at him and started back, his own
face turning pallid.
“It’s me, Ben,” said the man, in a husky,
weak voice.
V “ My God! has the grave given up the dead?
is this Fred Weston who stands before me in
the flesh?”
“ I am Fred Weston, Ben, in the flesh!”

 

* CHAPTER XXV.
rim sscanr or ran msuan nssniir.

« LITTLE Jovn had sprung the promised sur-
‘ prise upon Ben , and as the two friends
c each other 11 their arms, and fairly
wep with 'oy, the boy looked on through the
tears in h 8 Own eyes, his face aglow with
smiles, and his young heart throbbing withff'py.

" Fred WOSIDD,'thIS is a miracle!” Ben i,
finally found words to say.

“ I presume it seems so to you, Ben,” Fred re-
sponded, “since you left me dead, as you sup-
posed. in that open grave.” '

“ But, wasn’t you deadl—I mean—well, what
does it mean?” exclaimed Ben in perfect con-
fusion of mind.

. , “ It simply means this, my dear old pard: a
"‘ man and a woman, 1 am informed, mysterious] y
g a poured and. performed some Christian sex-Vice
. at the grave, then silently disappeared. Before
on could throw even a shovelful of dirt into

the 81'?“ you were chased away by robbers
who failed, owing] to the gathering shadows of
night. to notice t e open sepulcher. That in s-
terious man roturned to complete the burial,
and found me stirrin around. He said I’d been

in s. trance, the resu t of my wounds. He car
ried me here, and he and his daughter nursed
me back to life. The wound on my head is
nearly healed and I am gaining strength every

. da .

. ‘ngell, God bless that noble man !" Ben ex-
Claimed, “ and what a God-send it was that
those outlaws came when they did, or we would
have planted you under a ton or two of dirt and
grave l You d been buried alivel”

- i “ It wee a narrow escape all around, Ben.”
“ And on. Little JOVO." said Ben, turning to

. the ho , ‘ have known all this for weeks!”

“ (lid, Ben,” replied the , " but I wasn’t
. int libert to say anything. But Mr. Mnlraven
fl 1111 exp in the whole th n to you now.”
‘ Ashe thus spoke. a cu u on the right was
1| pushed aside and the tall form of a strange m
l entered the room. He was a man of perhaps
9* :ilfty years,‘ twith hair and beard half-white, a
 searching blue eye, and mien of pleasant yetdlg-

 - edbeari .
r‘  ' 319‘ Ml‘. Begilall,” said Fred, " this is my m.
 .cuor: m do'ctor my kind-hearted benefactor,

'

 . ‘ an ulraven. ’
 .71.}? Aiplecsant smile paSSed over the man's rm
" ‘4’ .. “he took Ben by the hand, saying: .

'  -“Ben Hall is you with pleasure. realm.

'  '1' hg'now that you have been.under. the fierce,
_ white heat of a terrible expenence since coming
I; 1 .. . 1w  u

» “ I'sssure you, sir ” responded Ben, that the
wtei‘nperstors has fallen several degrees since I
' lel‘ Hts-eat.”
‘ rod and Allan Mulraven laughed softly.
Little Joyfc'stole softly out of the room with

- m. '
ijschaps,”Mulraven said, “ I‘ am to blame
gum of your trouble—.11 of it, I might

   
    

  

a blue budge.”sald
ems tHonorl”

 

This was another startling surprise to Ben
Hall, and almost as agreeable us the one that
greeted his entrance to that chamber.

“ Then it was you who found the body of John
Kingsley l” '

“And have his gold in keeping," added Mul—
raven. “and his fair sister, Edith, here in
'safet .”

“ bunk God !” exclaimed Ben, a burden lifted
from his mind.

“I found the body of your young friend in
the canyon near here,” Mulraven explained,
“late one evening. My trusty and true little
employee—scout, 1 will call him-Little Jove,
was away at the time. I searched the body, but
could find nothing by which I could identify
him. He knew he had died of heart-failure.
Who was he. and who were his friends!

“ At first I thought 1 would lash the body to
the horse and send it adrift in hopes the animal
would return to its old haunts and the rider be
reco ized. But the body was cold and stiff,
and could not fasten it on, so I resorted to’an-
other expedient —but I need not repeat it. You
know all. Fred told me just esterday of your
experience on the Dismal esert. I confess
that it was a horrible expedient, and beg that
the facts be kept from his sister. I will say, in
justice to Litt e Jove, that he knew, nothing of
my finding the dead man. I carefully buried
the bod ', and kept my secret. if Fred had told
me weel’rs ago of your experience on the Dismal
Desert, I could have saved you of all the dangers
you have been encountering.” ‘

“ Then on are living a secluded life here
gith Lit e J0ve in your service?” observed

en.

“ Exactly,” was the laconic reply.

“ Well, he’s an eni ma, sure, and knows how
to keep a secret. ot a word has he ever
breathed of such a person as Allan Mulraven,
and aflected ignorance of who 'the m sterious
man and woman were that performed hristian
service that memorable night at Fred’s grave.
And true to you and your seclusion, he encoun-
tered dangers to lead us away from here rather
than desert us or conduct us to this impregnable
retreat.” ’

“He is a rlea, matchlees youth,” aflirmed
Mulraven, ‘ and we have become devotedly at-
tached to the little waif of the mountains. But,
Mr. Hall, Edith Kingsley is waiting to see you;

I will call the girls in.

He stepped nto the room from which he had
come, an presently returned with Edith and
his own daughter, whose face was a vision of
girlish beauty.

At sight 0 Ben, Eiith ran to him, her face
beamin with joy, and exclaimed:

“Uh r. Hall! I am so thankful you all es-
caped those dreadful robbers and 111de! But
let me present to you my new lady friend, Zora
Mulraven.”

Ben b0wed to the prett little Zora, saying:

“I am glad Miss K gsley has fallen nto
gentle company, for she has had a couple days
and nights of rough com ions.”

“ Bu brave and true ’ ut in Edith.

At this moment Little ove entered the room
lantern in hand, followed by the tall form oi
Old Kit Bandy. ,

“ Here. folkses,” the, boy called out. “ here’s
Mr. Kit Bandy the flghtin’ detective that says
he’s a twin bro er 0’ mine i”

Old Kit actually appeared embarrassed. He

lanced at the staring, smiling faces before

im, at the ceiling, a the walls, and finally
exclaimed: ‘ '

“Tra ped at last! by the horn o’Joahuai”

Ben all and Little..Jove burst into a silent
laugh, and Mulraven advancing, addressed the
old man thus: '

“Kit Baud , you were neVer caught in a

Safety-Trap, dare say before.”
' “Stranger,” replied kit, “I guess you‘re
’bout right, and your head was level when you
baited your traps with that slick little mom]
0’ a thunderbolt celled Little Jove l" '

'Ben Hall introduced Bandy to those he had
never met before, and in a few minutes the old
detective was perfectly at home entertaining
all in his usual he py way.

Presently Little ove, who had made another

trip to the ave where the battle occurred, en:

tore}! the room with Tom Rattler. .
Like Old Kit, he appeared surprised and em-
_ . With hisrifle in one hand, he shaded
his eyes with the other from the blinding light,
and peered around him at the Various 2
and when he beheld the grinning visage ofKit

393%” htehexwmed: usians' strung ‘
e eat or . cu,
frle . and fa es all in ed up 1”

Old Kit csmeio Tom’s rescue, and gave him

   

- o

'15

 

 

 

an introduction to Mulraven and his charming
daughter, finishing up with these words:

“Tradition says nothiu’ ’bout thtlcr's age,
but us a true friend, a fighter, a scout, a bun-
ter, a lover 0’ pretty gals. and a all-round man,
give me little Old Tum Rattler."

“ Thank ye, Kitsie,” said Old Tom; “that se-
cures my vote for you for Congress.”

It wasn’t but a little while until the two old
men were “ playing” upon each other in their
usual way, much to the enjoyment of the party.

One by one the men were all brought up from
the cave and introduced into the hidden home of
the Mulravens, faithful, tireless Little Jove alone
remaining outside on guard.

Zora, assisted by Edith and Fred \Veston, pre-
pared supper for the party. and it is needless to
say that the men did justice to the repast after
a fast of nearly twenty-four hours.

CHAPTER XXVI.
MULRAVEN’S sroar.

AFTER sugpen was over with, Allan Mulraven
asked Kit andy to step into a private room
with him for a few minutes, and when the two
were seated alone, the hermit said:

 

“ Mr. Bandy, although I am living a secluded '

life hereI am not wholly ignorant of what is going
on in the outside world. What the eye and ear
of Little Jove doesn’t record and bring to me, L
receive through these newspapers.”

He ointed to a pile of papers in the corner,
and a ter a women t’s silence continued:

“ I have for some ears been at work upon a his-
tory of the ancient lift—Dwellers. Of courseit is
somewhat speculative and theoretical, for you
know that ancient pe0ple have left no records
and but few traditions for the historian to work
upon. Only their dwellings and some potte
and stone implements remain to the anti-
quarian.

“ I spent many years Ismong the Pueblo
Indians and while there became interested in.
the history of the CHE-Dwellers; and under the
guidance of an old Indian visited many of their
dwellings perched high on almost inaccessible
blufls. One day anold hunter named Brent told
me of a place up among the Colorado hills where
there were t rooms hewn in solid rock, steps
leadin up to them, and the whole agprosched
throng s. choked-up rift in the rpcky uf! from
theoutside world. .

“ I became so interested in his description of
the place that'l had him conduct me to it. We
are now in those rooms—the handiwork of those
ancient Cliff-Dwellers, and the most remarkable
of all I have ever seen. I have been hero some
two years. Brent remained with me until his
death nearlya year ago. Then I took Little Jove
into my confidence and employ. With his rifle
he has furnished my table with meat; he has
brou ht me supplies from the camps and
watc ed the prowling red-skins and robbers.
His eyes and ears have ever been on the alert,
and his tongue silent. He is a most remarkable

bo .

3 Now, Mr. Bandy, all this may be of little
concern to on, but what I brought you in here
for was to s ow you this.”

He picked up- a San Francisco newspaper.
and, pointin to a certain paragraph, bade
Bandy read t. ,

Tge old detective turned to the light, and
res. :

“if Dr. Arthur Redmon, formerly of Montreal,-
Canada should be living and this fall under his no.
tice, he requested to communicate with the under-
signed. The charge of forgery against him has been
swept away by the confession of the real culprit.
and he stands fully exonerated and Will receive a
warm welcome back to his old ome.

“MONTREAL, June 20th, 18—. '
“Gso. F. Bmsoox."

When he had finished reading, Old Kit.
turned his eyes upo n Mulraven and ex-
claimed: ‘

“ By the horn 0’ Joshua! Mr. Mulraven, you. ,

are the fu' tive doctor, Arthur Redmonl”
“I am, r. Bandy!” _

'CHAPTER XXVII.
‘ ran HAPPY CONCLUSION.
“Wm” said OlddKit, after ahmomsnt’n
ause : .presnm octor your istory of
{Eye (aim-Dwellers w come to a. speedy conclu-
s on ‘ v '
A smile passed over Mulraven’s face, and

 

brushin back his long hair in a‘ way betraying ; ,
deep as? ' ‘ '

tatloqof mind, he led. ,
“In one sense— es. But hat cruel sccuum

tionhasthrowna

never belligelled. ,.In the first cs, 1 would
nevsrhsvs edhad it notbeen ormyfrisnds
sbsolutelyforcingmeamy. Icsmstothe

w-bver my life that will '

  

 
   
       
       
     
     
     
         
     
     
     
   

 

16  Compromise.

..
“cw.

 

 

 

States and went to mining in New Mexico. ’ ised to educate him and be a father in every

There my poor wife, heart-broken, died of grief.
I accumulated some money, and, to occupy
myself, I undertook to write the history I men-
tioned.

“ But all these years, Mr. Bandy, I have felt

confident a vindication would come, and I have
managed to secure Montreal newspapers in
hopes of reading my recall from seclusmn. It
came, after fifteen years of waiting, in the Cali-
fornia paper, three days ago. But what do I
care for the busy world now? and especially
Montreal! Nothing! On] the happiness, the
education and welfare 0 my daughter will
take me from these chambers of the ancients.
_ “Then how strange things do happen, Mr.
Bandy. I can even now almost read in your
mind the thoughts you are having—of the part
you are playing In this Montreal trouble of
mine.”

“ Horn 0’ J oshual” exclaimed Kit, “ you must
be one of them mind readers, sure enough 1”

“I know,” said Mulraven, with a smile, “all
about your speech for Congress in Compromise
Camp, the pledges of support given you in writ-
ing, and your troubles with the outlaws in
‘d ayor Game’s cabin. I know you have located
‘zlenrique Dubien, the man—the expert—who
tune the work of forgery for another—Conrad
Wells."

“ Well, by the great ram’s born 0’ Joshua!”
“claimed Old Kit, in complete astonishment,
a? if this isn’t a great mystery how you obtained
these facts I’ll give up I’m a chump.”

“ It’s all easily explained,” Mulraven an-
swered. “ Little Jove overheard all you told
Jack Game in camp the other ni ht about the
Redmon forgery, the dying Wells s confession,
and your search for Dubien. The boy did not

lay eavesdropper, but overheard your story

rom where he lay upon the ground. He re-
lated it all to me this evenin , and yet he did
not know that I am Doctor Art ur Redmon.”

“ That’s plain enough,’ 'said Kit “and every
word true. I have tted the real for or, and
I expect to land him in Canada insi so two
weeks. But what do you now propose to do,
doctor!” .'

“ I shall write my friend Brandon and tell him
of my existence, and thank him kindl for his
devoted friendship; but I do not thin I shall
return to Montreal, but will settle in some ood
Western town and practice my profession.

The two conversed a while longer and then
returned to the party in the main c ber of
that t house eternally in the rocks.

01 Tom and Ichabod Flea assisted Little
Jove in guarding the retreat, and when morn-
ing dawned no trace of the survivors of the
outlaws was to be found in the vicinity.

When the doctor spoke to his daughter of his
intentions of leavin their mountain home, her
joy knew no boun s, and by the look that she
exchanged with Fred Weston when the an-
nouncement was made, Allan Mulraven detected
what he had long mistrusted by that exchan e
of glances—that a feeling stronger than the es
of mere friendship had grown up in the breast
of his daughter and that of his young patient
and guest.

And he was right. Even then their hearts
were plighted to each other.

The gold found with John Kingsley’s body
was turned over toEdith and thus ended the
responsibility of “ Silent onor ” and the Secret
of "the Dismal Desert.

Little Jove was dispatched to Red Notch for
a conveyance to carry Edith and Zora, and Fred
W'eston, who was yet an invalid, to the camp
from whence their homeward departure would
be taken.

Old Kit Bandy and the miners left for Camp
Com romise, but before they departed Old Tom
Latt er observed:

‘Kitsie, if you git into Congress, make a
mark. Always be polite, make yer manners to
t... Goddess 0’ Liberty whenever you ’proach
the Capitol. and when you attend a State-ball,
don’t attempt to carry off any 0’ the weemin if
they should faint; and if you’ve any flghtin’ to
do there, send for m'e.”

The rest of the party were compelled to re-
main two days at the retreat waiting the return
of Little Jove.

In the mean time Edith visited the grave of
her brother, and with the assistance of Ben Hall,
marked the place by placing a large bowlder at
the head.

Finallya conveyance arrived and the party
were taken to Red Notch, and there the saddest
of partings took lace, between Mulraven and
his dau hter and ittle Jove.

They ad entertained the hope that the boy
would go away with them. The doctor prom-

 

respect; but, when the hour for separation came
he said, with a voice filled with sadness:

“ I would like to go and be with you and Zora.
I love you both, but can’t forget what Father
Runkells told me—that I might some day find
my parents. Oh, how nice it would be to have
a father and mother! Tom Rattler and I are
goin’ into partnership as hunters. We’re goin’
up north where game is plenty. I wish you a
happy journey to your new home wherever
that may be, and that I may some day be able
to go and visit you. I will never forget you and
Zora. You have been a father and she a sister
to me, and I will always think of you as sucl.
whether I find my own parents or not.”

Both Jove and Zora wept when they parted.
and it was all the erOng man, Mulravan, coulg
do to keep his emotions under control.

From Camp Compromise Edith’s uncle pro
eeeded to Red Notch, bringing news of the ar-
rest of Bob Mason by Bandy, and of the admis~
sion of the prisoner that he was henrique Du-
bien, that he had forged Dr. Redmon’s name,
but dld it at the instigation of another, and
therefore hoped to escape a very severe punish-

ment.

Ben Hall and Fred Weston accbmpanied the
Mulravens and Edith and her uncle as far as
Denver. There in that bustling mountain city,
the doctor concluded to stop, and there Fred
was to come some time in the near future to
claim the pretty Zora in Wedlock.

Nor was Ben Hall one whit less fortunate than
his companion, for when he and Edith Kingsley
parted they parted plighted lovers.

Thus ended Ben and Fred’s summer in the
great mountains. They had encountered mys-
teries, dangers, and all but the grim monster
itself; but, after all, they felt amply repaid in
the love of those beautiful women for all they
had endured.

ms: END.

 

NEXT HALF-DIME LIBRARY, N0. 956
Brooklyn Bob’s Bulge:
Dodger Dot’s Eamond Snap.

BY WILLIAM PERRY BROWN.

 

Beadle’s Hall-Dime library.

BY 0L1. CODMEB.

146 Kit Baldy, Detertivr; or, Silver Star, the Boy Knight.
168 kit Bandy in Texas; or, The Young Mustang".
'08 hit Mandy‘s ('IIIA'III Ul'.The Boy Hercules.

m k'it iiundyzs Right Bower; or, Bub ' Sam,th Boy Giant
444 kit liundy's ewoop; or, Linn. Bucks in. me Centaur.
428 leit Randy I Mick Scheme; or. old ’l‘om Rattler.
661 Lil. Bandy"! Deliverance; Ur, Manner Bun.

680 Kit, Randy’s Ford; or, Dauntless Dan. the Freelance.
791 Kit Bandy Ruttlcd- or, The lnlani Giant.

‘395 Kit Dandy ill licd lining or. 'lhe Yulng Whirlwind.
799 Kit linnd) ’I' Dix Run-Ho: or, Saddle King Sam.
804 Kit Bandy?! Brigade; or, Dan, tilt: Mountain Guide.
92? kid Randy's Brigade In Arizona.

989 kit Bandy s Btnr Lngugcmcnt.

158 Jack Draw; the NA-Incsis. or, Eagle Klt the he ‘ Demon.
182 Jack Drew :- Drop: or, Little Hurricane, the y Captain.
302 Jack Draw in Deadwood; or, Prospect Pele.

’7 Keen Knife on Glsnrd; or, Antelope Ahe,thaBoy Guide
31 keen-Knife, the Prince oi lb‘é l'rsmes.

5 Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew.
18 The Dumb Spy.
4l Lusuo luck, the Young Mustanger.
58 The Border Kin z or, The Secret Foe.
7] Dclnwnre "ck, tie Yuul‘lv Ranger Spy.
74 Hawk-eve lorry ihe Young 'i‘mpuer Ranger.
88 Rollo. the Do l an en or, The Heiress.
i84 Run-o Shot Set . ihr 0y lllilenmn.
148 Dear-Face Saul. the Silent Hunter.
176 (Md son'th the Hermit'l‘rspper.
21‘ TIch- 'l‘om, the Texas Tern-r.
22-1» Duahln Dk-k; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle.
223 Little \ 'Ildilrc, “"9 YMan I'rulrlr Nun-ad.
’33 The Pill-non Dctcctb't‘; or, The Little Ranger.
248 The DI-nguI-cd Guide: or, VI ild Raven, the Ranger.
26" Dare-Dev“ "u", the Young Prairie Ranger.
Q72 \nnklmn “we, the Boy sharpshooter.
290 Little Foxfire, the For Spy: or. Old (‘uleh Arbuckle.
300 The Mk V Dcmou; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger.
8R1. “'hlp- Ing- Joo, tho Dov Rmu'hcrm
409 hon-ulna: or, Dick, the Boy Ranger.
4i? “'cbi’ooi Mono, the Trump Doieotive.
457 “'Inrcdi'oot l’rcd x or. Old Polar Saul.
468 Tnnmruc Tom, the Big Trapper Boy.
4562 Stonewall Bob, the Boy 'l‘rolun.
502 Iilnndcrlng [in-II, tho Hermit Boy Trapper.
652 Don Iinrr, the Plains Fri-winier.
6'30 Norway Nola, tln- Big Boy Mountaineer.
7794 III hInnd llnrry, tho Wimrd Rlflenmn.
823 1'0 'er Jack, the thicl'lqu Sport.

 

DY IIVARDLD PAY N E.

843 Dan, thc River Sport: or. Foillog the Frisco Sharp.
I192 ltowcry lion in (,‘hlnntown.

9|] Bowery "0D. ihc Fnsi-sldc Dctcctlvo,

952 The Circus Detective.

 

BY I‘ZIHVAIKD L. WHEELER.
Deadwood chk Novels.

1 Deadwood chk, the Prince oi the Road.
20 Dcndwood Dick’s Dciluncc: or, llonhlc Daggers.
21" Dcndwood Dick In Dlsxulac; or, Bulls); Ben.
85 Dendwood Dick in III:- Castle.
42 Dcndwood Dick's lionnnzu; m, The Phantom Miner.
49 Dcudwood Dick III Danger; or. Unmnu 0H,
5‘.‘ Dcndwood Dick‘s Hugh-n: or, The Yards oi Flood Bar.
73 Dcndwood Dick on Deck: or. (‘ulumitv .‘ vne.the Heroine»
7? Dcndwood Dick‘s LII-i Acli ~r.(‘orduroy Charlie.
100 Deadwood Dick In Lcmhillc.
:04 Deadwoohl  Df’x ice; lor. '11:» Double Cross Sign.
09 Dendwoo c n!- ctcct \'c.
12” Dendwood "Ick'a Double: 07.1‘hr Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost.
Iii! Dcndwood chk'vn Iloluc Dunc; or. Blonds Bill.
149 Dcndwood Dick's Dig Firikc' or, A Game oi Gold.
“36 Dcadwood Dick oi' Drudwoodx or, The Picked Party.
195 Dclulwood Dick‘s Drcnm: or, Tlu- Rivuls oi the Road.
2‘” Dcndwood Dick‘s “and: Mr. TIH' mark Hill‘s Ji‘lclyel,
all", lI'Dcn‘eiwood lli’llcii'u llloon'n :"nr.i-‘slmlml‘June’s Adventure.
7 on woo. c ‘n low (a .
221 Dcndwood Dick’s i'cailI-l’luni.
DB2 “old-Dust Dick. A Romance of RoughI and Toughs.
 Roadwom: inch": “I. 2:..'i_..r,"lrlle Spirit of Swamp Lake.
cm wool c "s cu I ru .
809 Dead“ ood Dick’s Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon.
82I Dendwood Dick‘s Duzcm onle Faki'r oi'Phsntom Fists
C47 Deadwood Dick’a DncntI-x 07, lisya m the Diggings.
 lll’ead‘wood' I’l'l'ellfi‘,§(illli.(“llcedz or, lhe Terrible cadet“...
. en wool c a Yum.
405 Dcudwoml chl.‘ in Dcad City.
410 Dendwood Dick's Diamonds.
421 Dcudwood Dick in New York: or, A "Cute Case."
 Bonfiwoodl liliclfi’u Jim.“ or, The Chuingl Hands-i Q
on W001 I c r.' IY. The Crlmson rescent u
4i! Dcndwood Dick: Jr."s, Dcllmicc. I ‘
458 licmlwood Dick, Jr.'s Full "and.
459 Dcadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Dig Round-I’D.
465 Dcndwood Dick Jr.’s Docket at (‘lalm 10.
471 Deadwood Dick, Jr}: Corral: or, Bosemm Bill.
476 Dcudwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dog Detective.
4Hl Deadwood Dick. Jr., In Dcndwood.
401 Dcudwood Dick, .lr.’s, Compact.
496 Dcndwood Dick. Jr.'a. Inheritance.
500 Dcndwood Dick, Jr):- DI Inga.
508 Dcndwood Dick, Jr.'s. De fiergnce.
515 Deadwood Dick .ir.‘u l’roiegee.
622 Deadwood chk. Jr.’s, Three. .
529 Deadwood chk, .Ir.’-. Danger Ducks. ;‘
584 [Deadwood Dick. Jr.’-. Death llunt.
589 Deadwood Dick, Jr.. in Texas.
511-} Deadwood Dick, Jr., the “lid West Vider
549 Dcudwooo Dick. J r.. on Ills Nettle.
654 Dcudwood Dick. Jr., In Gotham.
5i" Deadwood Dick, .Ir.. In Boston.
56‘! Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Philadelphia.
5?“ Deadwood Dick. J r.. In ('Illcuo.
578 Deadwood Dick. Jr" Allont.
584 Deadwooo Dick. .sr.. In Dcnver.
590 Deadwood Dick. Jr.'-, Decree.
595 Deadwood Dick Jr., in lies-llcbub’l Bush.
800 Deadwood Dick. Jr., at Cone Island.
606 Deadwood Dick, Jr.‘-, Leadv Ie Lay.
612 Densdwood Dick, Jr.. in Detroit.
(Ill-l [Deadwood Dick. Jr. In Cincinnati.
024 Deadwood Dick. Jr" in Nevada.
680 Deadwood Dick. Jr., in No Man’s Land.
686 Deadwood Dick. Jr., Aflcr the Queer.
642 Deadwood Dick Jr.. In liuil'ulo.
 Beagwom‘:  {fl-fishnet- 13;";- the (imminent-
ea woo 1' ‘9 n. mm! e um ers.
660 Dendwood Illck, Jr.‘- lr-ugcnce Case‘.‘
see Deadwood Dick. Jr.. hack in the. Mines.
(WE Deadwood chk, Jr., in Durnngo: or. “ Gathered In.”
 lll’eagwoo:  5n:- Ili'It-iglvernor,Foumial’ortuns.
. est woo c , r. I. n c.
690 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s. Dollars.
605 Deadwood Dick. Jr., at Dnngcr Divide.
I(00 Deadwood chl‘. Jr.’s, Drop.
704 Deadwood Dick, .Ir., n1. Jack-Poi.
I(10 Deadwood Dick Jr., in Run Francisco.
716 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s Stlll Hunt.
729 Deadwood chk, .lr.’a Dominoes.
7.8 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’s, Disgulsc.
784 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’s. Double Deal.
740 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Deathwatch.
747 Deadwood Dick, .Ir.’n, Douhlct.
759 Deadwood Dick, Jr.‘s. l’eafllblow.
759 Dead wood Dick, .lr.’s, Dcapcrate Strait.)
1'64 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Lone llaud. ,
770 Deudwomi Dick, .lr.’I-. Defeat.
776 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’-. Resurrection.
'I’flO'Deudwoou Dick. Jr.’s Dark Days. ‘
78? Deadwood Dick Jr.. Dcilcd.
793 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Double Device.
797 Dendwood Dick, Jr’.-, desperate Yell.“
802 Dcndwood Dick, Jr.’n, Diamond Dicenf '
80? Dendwood Dick Jr.’s, Royal Flush.
819 Dcudwood Dick. .lr.’s "cad-om:
Slii Dcndwood Dick. Jr.’s, lih'ul.
822 Dcndwoud Dirk, dbl", Room.
828 Dcndwood Dick, Jr.’I-, Scoop.
884 Dcudwood Dick, .lr.’a-, l'rox .
840 Dcudwood i'ick. Jr-‘u, (‘lutc .
847s Deadwood chk, Jr.’u, "lull "one.
862 Deadwood Dick .lr., ht. Dc\ il’a Gulch.
$53 Dcndwoml chk, Jr.’s, NcuiII-ilole MIMI“!
808 Dcudwood ~chk, Jr.’s Bombshell.
870 Deadwood Dick, .lr., In Mexico.
“TO Deadwood Dick. Jr'a Decoy Duck.
sue Deadwood Dick, .lr., in an...- I'm-keh‘.
89! Deadwood Dick. Jr.‘~, Dcudfiurc Game.
898 Deadwood Dick, J r.’.-, Double Drive.
904 Dcndwood Dick, Jr.’a. Trade-Mark.|
910 Dcndwood Dick, Jr" of TIE-Ton. ’
9l6 Dcudwood Dick. Jr.'n Don lei-Declich
D23 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Dollnrvillc.
984 Dcndwood Dick, Jr.. of Flush Flats.
940 Dcmiwood Dick, Jr.'s, Hmkc-up.
946 Dcndwoml chk, Jr.’fl, Double 1 P0P.
95! Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Right Bower.

LATEST ISSUES.

953 Paddy's Trump Curd; or, Silver Salliv, the Girl Sport.
“v .I. i". (‘oudyit k.

954 Tim Dock-Dov Shadow: or, Sim-k Sly‘a Short-Stop-
Mr T. (‘. ilnrlmnu . . u

955 The Dandy Dead-Shot; 0'. 0M luv. lhmdy’s Compromise.
By Oll Coomes.

NEW ISSUES.

956 Brooklyn Bob‘s'llulgc; or, Dodger Doi’s Diamond Snap.
P-y Wm. I'. rry lirown. V

957 Deadwood Dick. Jr.'u, Tubstrflwz or. pom,“ the

Fluf‘k of Fully. D)’ E. L. \Vlieclvr,

958 Buffalo Bill's ancp u-Chusc; or, Dirk Dearborn’s
Drliwrer. Iiy Col. l‘. lngm mm.

959 The Mascot Mlddy; or, The Four Commanders. By T.
J . Flanagan.

A New Issue Every Tuesday. ~
The Half-Dino Library is for sale by all meanders,“
g... "too", or sum by mail on receipt Oi six cent; each.

[BEADth AND ADAMS. Publishers.
0!! William Street. New York.