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Com lete
InOne umber.

Vol. V.

3

xx

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Ia7a,'3v BEADLE

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N0. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK.

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Price,
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Double Sight, the Death Shot;

The Outlaw of the Chaparral.
A Tale of Sport and Peril in Texas.

BY J OS. E. BADGER, JR.
AUTHOR OF “ TllREE-FINGERED JACK,” “ GOSPEL
GEORGE,” “ THE LONG HAIRED ‘ PARDS,’ ”
“ OLD BULL’s EYE,” ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER I.
PERILOUS SPORTS.

“FIFTY dollars’ wuth, cf 8. cent! Silk ones,
tewl and free teW them as grabs ’em~waa.l, I
swan tew man !”

“Better try your luck, stranger,” observed a
tall, fine-looking young man, an amused smile
upon his face.

The scene was a peculiar one. Thousands of
human beings, young and old, rich and poor,
the blue blood of the and shoulder to shoulder

 

with the ragged, homeless outcast, rising in tier
after tier, one above the other, until' five-sixths
of the vast amphitheater was surrounded by a.
mass of rustling buzzing humanity. The re—
maining sixth o the circle was completed by
several stout pens and one massive wooden den,
its front containing a. s uare door of heavy iron
bars. In the center 0 the arena stood a tall
live—oak tree, the trunk of which had been peel-
ed and plentifully daubed with grease from its
base up to where the thick-growing branches
had been left untrimmed, some twelve feet from
the ground. Loosely knotted to the branches
were numerous handkerchiefs of cotton and silk,
of all the hues of the rainbow. These were to
be the prizes of those who could scale the tree
and secure them.

The spectators were impatient for the sports
to begin, and in response to their shrill whistles
and impetuous clapping, the signal was given.
At the sharp blare of the bugle a. scene of wild
excitement ensued. Full two-score men, a pic-
turesque rabble by virtue of their very ragged-
ness and squalor, swarmed over the steep wood-
en barricade and assaulted the gayly-decked
tree, each fighting and struggling like a mad-

 

man, seeking to be the first to climb the tree and
thus gain the choicest prizes. The enthusiastic
plaudits of the spectators encouraged the con—
testants, before Whose struggle the insccurvly
planted tree began to shake and uivcr. Wilder
yet rung forth the applause as t 0 tall Yankee,
whose words head this chapter, sprung into the
arena, and, with a cat-like activity, leaped upon
the writhing mass, makin stepping-stones of
his fellows’ heads and shoulgers, then leaping up
and graspin the lowest branches, flinging his
ungmnl im 5 around until he fairly secured a.
foothol .

At this moment the bugle sounded again. The
gate of one of the pens was flung open and a
ma ificent bull bounded into the arena, bellow-
ing oudly with pain and rage. At this several
of the Weak-nerved aspirants for fame—this

ort, imported from Old Spain, is termed

ante Parnaso—Jreed themselves and started
for the barriers, while others, doubtless encour-
aged by the disa pointed cries among the spec—
tators of “ Embo ado /” renewed their struggles
with better success. v

Bellowing deerFly, the bull shook its head,
then charged. he rabble scattered amid the

tr?
‘L ,

THE NEXT INSTANT HIS LONG, SIENDER KNIFE WAS BURIED TO THE HILT IN TEE BEAR’S SIDE.

 

' 2

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

 

mocking yells of the spectators. One unfortu-
nate was overtaken and tossed high into the air,
fortunately falling upon the safe side of the
barrier among the crowd, bruised and frighten-
ed but not much hurt thanks to the large gilt
balls that were upon the bull’s horns.

Foiled here, and its attention attracted by the
noise among the stiff branches—where the
gaunt .Yankee was seen busily stripping the

andkerchiefs — the bull charged the tree,
causing it to tremble and sway far out of er-
peiidicular. Yells of ludicrous dismay ed
the air as the bull drew back for another plunge.
Swift and sure came the stroke, and the over-
burdened tree was hurled to the ground, those
who had succeeded in climbin up, strugglin
frantically to free themselves rom the tan leg
branches and the aimless clutches of each other.
And this confusion became worse confounded
as the bull plunged headlon into the dark mass,
rendered almost frantic y the thundering
cheetr: {shat greeted the thrilling, if ludicrous
spec c e.

Luckily the Yankee had been pitched clear
of the tree, and scrambling to his feet, both
hands full-of prizes, he gained the barrier and
was swun from the arena at the end of a stout
scarf in t e hands of the tall young man al-
ready referred to.

By the time he had cleared his eyes of dust
the scene was ended. Several horsemen had
entered, lassosd the bull and’tree, dragging
both out of the arena. Thanks to the humanity
—unappreciated though it was by the spectators
who had so freely hissed the appearance of the
embolado—displa ed b the management in
rendering the b we -nigh harmless, the af-
fair ended without death or broken bones,
thou h the Yankee was the only one that pro-
fited y that Monte Parnaso.

“Lucky for you, stranger, it wasn’t that
brute!” exclaimed the young man, as another
gen was opened and a huge bull bounded forth,

lack as jet, with a thick-curled inane that
would not have disgraced a lion.

In the animal’s hips and flanks were sticking
anumber of barbed missiles that exploded one
by one goading the bellowing animal to an ex-
cess o fury as it lunged around the circle.
But magnificent as his rate was, it was pow-
erless to hold the attention of the spectators
long. The figure of a man was seen upon the
iron-bound cage from whence, by the aid of a

le, he unfastened and swung open the iron

oor. Swiftly disappearing, the huge cage was

slow] tilted forward until a huge grayish ball
roll through the door and fa upon the
ground.

In an instant the tumultuous cheering was
stilled. In the place of the hairy ball stood an
animal that even in this state of half-captivity
was terrible and fear-inspiring; a gaunt, half-
starved grizzly hear of the largest size.

“ Glory to Moses!” uttered the Yankee.
“ What a all-fired watch-dog that critter would
make!”

“If you could only train it,” lau bed the
young man, Mark Bird by name. “ ut look!
it’s got its work cut out for it this time. Look
at the bull l”

“‘ A icgigmne on the dog, if it breaks me!”
cried t e nnkee, enthusiastically.

There was no response made to this extrava-
gant offer. Every eye was riveted u n the two
animals, every vein throbhed wit the hotly
leap' blood and the steadiest nerves were
tremb 'ng with anticipation. The suspense was
not of long duration. Like a black thunderbolt
the huge bull plunged forward, glad of a living
object upon which to wreak its fury. 
erect the grizzly met the onset with a blow 0
its massive paw that staggered the bull; but be-
fore the stroke could be repeated the long black
horns were buried in the bear’s breast, and the
huge brute was forced back against the stout
barricade and there pinned fast. The grizzly
buried its long snout in the bull’s neck, while his
hind paws were tearing long strips of flesh from
the breast and legs of its assailant.

Deadly and fierce as was the fight, it did not
seem to satisfy the spectators. The sport threat-
ened to be too brief, and tolack variety. Hoping
to separate the animals, those directly above the
scene, yelling loud] , flung whatever missiles
they could comman down at the beast. Those
in the rear pressed forward for a better view,
and the jam was so great that the wooden bar-
rier began to bend a d crack. A wild yell of
terror arose, and in he mad confusion that fol—
lowed, one ragged wretch was toppled over the
gfling, with an ear-splitting shriek of awful

rror.

Headlon he fell, striking fairly upon the
arched bee of the bull, thus strangely produc-
ing the very effect he had beenforemost in seek-
ing. The heavy shock upon its 'ne appeared
to madden the bull, and he to back, rolling
over the shrieking wretch, while the 
streaming blood, plunged forward, an wi h
one mighty stroke, fairly disemboweled the bull.

Meantime the man, bruised and bewildered,
struggled to his feet and stag red away from
thes twherehehadso nearymet his death.

Wor are werless to describe the scene which
followed. 9 tors a insane with
excitement. ' were ye or shrieking;

 

some shoutin for the picadors to aid the un-
fortunate, ot ers shouting directions to him,
shakin cloaks and sashes over the barriers, and
calling for him to catch hold and be drawn up;
while he seemed utterly bewildered either by
his fall or through sheer terror, staggering here
and there like a drunken man.

Amid this confusion, a lar e, powerful] -
built, white-bearded man, lea boldly into t e
arena, and grasping the ellow, forced him
toward the barrier, raisin him aloft with ap-
parently little effort. illing hands grasped
the stupefled wretch, while scarfs and be ts were
lowered to aid the rescuer. None t00 soon. The

' 1y, infuriated b its wounds, was plunging

orward with bl curdlin snarls rearing
erect and striking vainl at t e feet of them
as he was drawn over t e barrier.

Rendered frantic at being balked of its pregr,
the grizzly drove its powerful claws into t e
narrow cracks and began scaling the wall,
fairly flingin its fore-paws over the top before
a hand could lifted to check its progress. The
crowd, thickly sprinkled with women seemed
wild with terror, and to think of nothing but
seeking safety in flight. Fortunately a few
men were cool—brained, and the sharp detona-
tions of revolvers were added to the uproar.
Leaning forward the ay—bearded man dealt
the bear a blow upon is e snout with his clench—
edfist that was answered by a howl of angry

Then came a startling crackling—a section of
the barrier had 'ven way beneath the weight
of the grizzly an the tremendous jam, precipi-
tating full- 9. score of bodies into the blood-
stained arena.

Among that number were Mark Bird and his
cousin, Kirke Howard. Fortunately both fell
clear of the ruins, and obeying nature’s first
law, they started for the opposite side of the
amphitheater. Just as they neared safety, a
wild snarling roar caused them to cast a back-
ward glance.

The grizzly bear had extricated himself from
under the splintered timbers and was rushing,
open-mouthed, upon the first living ob'ect that
met its infuriated gaze. This chance to be a
slight—built lad, drer in aranchero’s suit, and
who was just rising to his feet.

The raging beast was too close for successful
flight, and with a coolness remarkable in one so
Kong, the lad tore the sash of china crape from

is waist and shaking out its folds, afirun nim-
bly aside, leaving the bear half-bl" ed the
sash. The next instant his long, slender ‘fe
was buried to the hilt in the bear’s side.

“ Back, Kirke!” shouted Mark, drawing a re-
volver. “ That boy’s too brave tobe butchered!”

Howard needed not another appeal, and when
the mad beast tore the shining crape from its
eyes, two revolvers were pouring their leaden
contents into its body.

“ Run while you can, boy!” shouted Mark
Bird, springing in front of the Mexican. “Climb
up yonder—we’ll cover your— Hurrah l” he
screamed, as the huge beast reared erect, then
fell heavily backward, willer {swing the air.
A revolver bullet had crashe t rough the griz-
zly’s brain, enterin at the eye.

“You have sav my life, senor; I shall never
forget it i” earnestly uttered the youth, then
springin forward he mingled with the crowd
and was 0st to view.

CHAPTER II.
A TEan FLOWER.
“I MOVE we get out of this—enough is as
good as a feast to a man who don’t claim to be a

0g! Talk about fun !” and Kirke Howard gave
a snort of utter dis as he began scaling
the shattered barrier, elbowing his way uncere-
moniously through the motley crowd toward the
place of exit.

“You were sighing for a glimpse of the
Texan elephant, and now you’ve got it,” laugh-
ed Mark Bird, as they fou ht their passage
through the excited crowd an found themselves
once more without the canvas and wooden
walls. “I should grumble, if any one. You
lit head-flrst'between my shoulders, and I can
feel a dent there big enough for a wash—bowl l”

“ We were lucky in gettinfioff so well,”added
Howard, thoughtfull . “ ut at the same
time, when I atten another such perfor-
mance, I’m going to leave before the after-

iece.

“ And I—to strike for higher wages unless the
management so to furnish a fair damsel for
rescue, instea of a youn gi‘easer. Listen——
what’s in the wind now i” a ded Mark, glancing
back at the huge amphitheater, from the in-
terior of which arose a chorus of wild yells.
boots, cat-calls and other significant sounds of
an disa proval.

ot-h ed Mark pressed forward, eager to
discover the cause of disturbance, but was soon
driven bhck b the surging crowd that poured
forth from inclosure in anything , ut an
angelic mood. Prominent among the malcon-
tents, the cousins discovered the tall Yankee
who had borne off the honors of the Monte Par-

 

naso.

“ It’s a swindle, gentlemen—I swan tew man!
Tew close eout when the haven’t done the half
they contracted tew w! Feller-citizens—

 

ef yeop’ll only wait till I kin draw up a peti«
tion— -

“S’ ose the fence was bu’sted down,” inter-
rupte a burly bull-whackor, “ didn’t we agree
to wplay fence, just so the fun mought go

‘I‘ They’s the hoss-racin’, anyhow—they cain’t
cheat us out 0" that I” cried another cow—
bpiy, evidently disposed to look at the brightest

s1 9. _

“It takes all sorts of people to make up a
world,” said Mark, laughing. “ You may have
heard something of the kind before, but you
never saw a more couvmcmg roof of its truth.
Think of a livin fence to inc ose such s orts—
nobody but a w' d and woolly Texan co d have
dreamed of such a thin -much less have pro-
posed it in sober earnest. ’ A

“ I have felt as though in a dream ever since
we left Galveston—everything and everybody is
so exaggerated. It is one constant succession of
su rises. The contrasts are sosharp. There!
100 at that group by the broken-to ped live-
oak. I couldn’t have found a better i ustration
in a day’s ride.”

“ An angel by George I” exclaimed Mark.

“ Guarded by two satyrs,” laughed Kirke.

In the scanty shade cast by the deformed tree
a rough, rickety wagon was stand' , covere
with apatched and dirty canvas tili At the
rear end, two aunt mules were eating from the
feed-box. Beside the wagon were three per—
sons, two seated. The larger of these was a
rudely-(iguaer man, shaggy-haired and bushy-
bearde With head upon one side and foot
beating time against a wagon wheel, he was tore
turing a battered violin that could only boast of
two strings, producin a series of sounds that
would have shamed t e howling of a tortured
cat. The other was a youn woman, at in her
teens, of almost marvelous auty. t is little
to say that her hair was of a rich, olden brown;
her complexion clear and free rom tan; her
cheeks softly suffused; her eyes large, lustrous.
of adeep, limpid blue; her 1i )5 full and moist;
her chin round and dimple ; her neck sloping
into perfect shoulders and swellin bust. All
this may be said, and yet you can ave but a
faint and indistinct idea of the reality. There
is a certain type of woman that no pen can
clearly depict; and she u n whom the cousins
were now gazing forme one of that number:
nor did her garb, as is so often the case, lend its
aid to highten the work of nature. A plain
calico dress, unrelieved by bow or ribbon, met
white stockings and headed moccasins. ‘

The third person, also a woman, was bustling
around with wonderful activit , and her tongue
was fully as nimble. Short, t in, and angular,
with faded hair, eyes and sallow complexion,
she formed a strong contrast to her huge, over—
grown husband—for the beatified fiddler was no

ess.

Pausing short as her restless eyes lighted
upon the cousins, the sour expression of the
little woman’s countenance changed to eager in-
terest, and poking the rural Orpheus in the short
ribs with a stout cowhide shoe—her both hands
were full—she uttered:

“ Roast up, you lazy coot! Go ax the gentle-
men will they take a bite ’long 0’ us? Vanisl‘,
now, or I’ll make kin’lin’ wood 0’ that pesky fid-
dle as I’ve ’lowed to, time an’ ag’in.”

ith ludicrous activit the Texan scrambled
tohis feet, and holding is loved fiddle out of
the way of harm, greeted the cousins and dc—
livered his message with a better grace than
might have been expected. Thou h yet new in
the free and easy style of the her er, the oung
men accepted the invitation quite as fran ly as
it had been given, and five minutes later wei n
seated in the grateful shade, eatin , chatting
and laughing as though with frien
lon standing.

‘ t wasn't your good looks altogether, gentle-
men,” said Mrs. Lamb for thus she intro
duced herself, and laughing as she spoke;
“’twasn’t so much that—though I did say to
Minnie, when you turned _on that overgrowed
warmint—the ugliest cutter that grows, I
think, an’. which in mother—she’s dead an’
gone come twenty- ee years next tatur dig-
gin’—a.n’ she’d ought-to know, of anybody.”

Minnie smiled furtively, as the cousins inter-
changed a quick glance, in doubt as to what an-
swer ought .to be made. Fortunately for their
sense of politeness, 'ust at that moment Hector
Lamb foriot himse f and began wrestlin once
more wit the “ Arkansaw Traveler.’ But
slack and alas! As his eyes closed and hishuge
foot Stralghtened out to beat time, the broad
sole began getting Mrs. Hector Lamb in the
small 0 the ack. As well have been a package
of dynamite. The musician‘ doubled up as a
sharp elbow indented his ribs, while bow and
fiddle went flying over the wagon-tofi as thou h
suddenly provided with wm' gs. eekly ‘7 9
giant arose and shambled around to rescue his
beloved instrument, and Mrs.  resumed
her never-ending skirmish-fire of dlsJomted ques
tions and assertions. _

The cousins found it interestin , or at least
amusing, but a transcript woul be tedious.
Enough that in the hour devoted to dinner Mrs.

b covered the entire past, present and a
good portion of the future.

Of a life— '

Us

,3.
I

 

.“

_,,.

 

.1:

,3.
I

 

 

Equality Eph.

 

Their family consisted of but the three then
resent ; they had driven over from their
‘homestead ’ fifty miles distant, to enjo the

sports at an Antonio ; had witnesse the
rompt action of the cousins in defense of the

EIexican youth, to which fact they owed their

present fe icity. .

“ I’m done for, Kirke,” dolefully exclaimed
Mark, as they finally strolled toward the crowd
that began to gather at the racecourse. “Hit
hard, and right to the center. Did you ever see
such a beauty? and so modest, so shy, yet
arch—”

“ And so forth,” interru ted Howard. “You
have been in the same sa fix twenty times, to
my knowledge, Mark, so there is some hopes of
your surviving?

“ I’ll marry er tomorrow—7’

“ There niav be more words than yours about
that. Look back—it needs no gift of second
sight to read the extent of your chances
there!”

A tall, lithe young man, dressed in a suit of
gayl ornamented buck—skin, was greeting Min-
nie amb. Both her hands were in his, and
there was an expression upon her uplifted face
that could not be mistaken. His face was hid-
den, but hers betrayed love, deep and entire,
and Mark Bird felta queer pang in his bosom as
he took in the scene.

“ If he’s a better man than I——not unless.”

He laughed as he spoke, but there was an un—
dercurrent of earnestness in his voice that Kirke
did not fail to note.

“Remember your pledge, lad ; remember
what we both have sworn. Until that work is
done, your hands are bound. I shall hold you
to your promise, as I expect you to hold me to
mine.”

Mark made no reply, and a sober shade was
over both faces as they entered the nOisy, ex-
cited crowd.

There was no regularly surveyed race—course,
though a straight half—mile stretch had been
duly measured and staked off. There was no
pretense at order, no particular rules or regula-

ions,- but the crowd made up in fire and enthu-

siasm for all other deficiencies. Money seemed
to be plenty, and was wagered with reckless
liberality, recalling the “ flush times of the
South,” when Boston and Fashion battled for
the supremacy of the turf. A wild, exciting
scene, well spiced with danger. More than one
rough-and-tumble fight had already taken place,
and though as yet no won 115 had been .used,
there was every prospect o the day’s ending in
a “gay old circus”——to use the vernacular.

Around the two more rominent horses the
crowd was greater, butta Kirke Howard made
a discovery. _ _

"The little Mexican—he’s gom to ride!”

Just then the crowd rolled aside. The race
was about to begin. The lithe Mexican leaped
lightly into the saddle, bending low down to
catch the whispered instructions of the_ man
whose iron hand controlled the impatiently
quivering racer. A man of unusual hight, yet
whose members were so admirably proportioned
that the eye was deceived until a com arison
was made with his fellow-men. Straig t as a
po lar, strong as a bull, active as a panther.

y-black hair fell in straight locks over his
shoulders. When he turned around, a striking
face was revealed.

“Did you ever see a more magnificent figure
or face?” muttered Mark his 8 e kindling.

“ Abad face, nevertheless; 1; ie face of a man
who willingly serves the devil.”

“Take a. fool’s advice, stranger, an’ speak
them words mightylow when he’s nigh to han’,”
muttered a not unfriendly voice close to How~
ard’s elbow.

“You know him, then?” ‘

“From A to Am rsandl” promptly respond~
ed the Texan. “ ey’s few in these parts as
don’t know ‘Turn-over,’the Injun, ur Kunnel
Overton, as he calls hisself now. Ef they was
time—”

But time there was not. The si was

'ven, and away the rival steeds da vanish-

nig amid the cloud of sand flung aloft by their
own heels. . .

The scene which followed baffles description.
The crowd seemed insane, as they one and all
rushed up the course the sooner to learn which
animal had won. Among them were the cou-
sins, carried away by the excitement, yelllIclfi
with the best, despite the grave interests whi
had brought them to this Wild and lawless re-

gion.
Back in triumph pranced the. gray horse,
roudl bestrode t a young Mexican, while
Bolone Overton he (1 the tossm head in check.
It seemed almost as though t_ e noble animal
knew that it had just won a princely fortune.
Mark Bird uttered an angry exclamation as a
ptrong armbthlftus}:  violently aside.h_ A burl;
heav - n' e ow sprung 1m wit
(€18th a13in leilrleled revolver. T e Zia tnflpx-
P Oded. and t e y racer reared 0 en
lunged heavily Iggwum a ball in its brain.
‘ 6 its echo came a second shot, and the hot
blood spouted from Overton’s face as he whirled
around. A single swift glance—then he .lea ed
forward, along knife flashing in his hand. no
more shot—a dull, grating thud—and all was

 

over. The would-be assassin lay quivering in
death, the knife-guard denting his scal , its
point protruding beneath the dead man’s chin.

“Hold!” a clear, ringing voice was heard.
“ Up with your weapons! he man that strikes
a blow or burns powder, dies like a dog!”

“The trouble is ended, sheriff,” coolly utter-
ed Overton. “The carrion shot my horse and
tried to murder me and I killed him. Any of
these gentlemen w' say the same.”

“It s so, cap’n," put in the Texan who had
warned Howard. ‘ I hate the cuss like p’ison,
as you know, but he‘s in the right this time.”

‘ Let’s go—I’m sick of this!” muttered Kirke,
hoarsely.

Mark was about to comply, when some one
breathed in his ear:

“ 3;; at the Golden Harvest to-Im'ght—Iimport-
ant I’

In amazement he glanced around, but in vain.
Whoever had spoken had vanished quite as mys-
teriously.

 

CHAPTER III.
wno was Ir?

“ A nonsrnous bad speculation from first to
last—look at it as you will!" and with an ugly
glow in his snake-like eyes Colonel Overton re-
placed his emptied glass upon the rude table
with an angry thump.

He and one other man were the occupants of
a small poorly~ventilated room in one of the
square, ox-like buildin of which the western
end of San Antonio at t t date rinci y con-
sisted. The building though de h , fronted
u on a narrow and gloomy street, and consisted
0 three small rooms.

The colonel’s companion, as far as could be
seen, was a tall, well—formed man, somethin
past middle age. His features were fine an
regular, and gave evidence that he had been un-
commonly handsome before unbridled dissi a-
tion stamped its seal upon face and body. Ila
lay upon a rude cot, a blanket flung over his
lower limbs and body. More than once a low

oan—almost a snarl—was wrung from his lips

y the acute pain he was suffering.

“First oumust et smashed 11 thanks to
your chil ‘ h love 0 sport. Then hat drunken
fool must shoot in horse, because he’d bet on
the wrong nag, an then give me a mark that
will last me for life. I settled him—and that is
the only decent iece of work done this day.
The devil’s in it Isay !”

“ Who could ave foreseen that he would in-
terfere. He was safe started on a blind trail—
there was no one elseto interfere. My hurt had
nothm do with it. The boys were steady
and ' ‘ g only awaiting the Signal. But just
then up rode that cursed Dashing Ned, at the
head of full fifty men. Instead of scattering to
see the s ort, half of them squatted down be-
fore the gank. They never laid aside their wea-
pons, nor even hitched their horses. The boys
were watching, and one of them caught Brown’s
signal. That was enough. The game was u .
T e Rangers had got wind of the job; but how ”

“That is what we must find out. Are you
sure of Brown? He comes of treacherous stock;
I never liked the fellow.”

“ As for myself I’d as soon think of doubting

you.
c [A fleetin smile curled the colonel’s lips. Had
the injure man caught this, he might well
have thought he was giving poor securitynfnor
Brown’s fidelity. But Overton was stro ' g
his mustache, and the long, muscular fingers
served as a mask.

“Some oneis pla 'ng us false. In no other
way can we accoun for those mysterious notes
—or else a veritable demon is haunting us!”

A sharp cr rted the injured man slips. A
square shp o s ifl white pa r floated across the
room, seemingly without uman agency, and
:gttledj down upon the breast of the man upon

9 co . v

“Another! Whenwill this end?” be aimed.

“ When the past is atoned for—w en you
have sufered as I have sufiered.”

Clear, yet deep sounded the first words, those
followin growing fainter and less distinct, as
though tie speaker was receding.

With an angry curse, Overton sprung to the
window and peered forth into the night, but no
11an object was to be seen- the narrow street
seemed utterly deserted. With a troubled ex-
pression upon his face he closed and barred the
 wooden shutter before returning to the

si e.

“ Take it ofl !” hoarsely’gasped the trembling.

wretch. “ It is all blood!

“ 0r red ink,” sneered Overton, regaining his
composure all at once. “See! the same old
story—a blood-red coflin, and a cross-marked
bullet.” -

“ There’s a. name?” muttered the other.

“Yes—DOUBLE SIGHT, the burn Snor—
of course. Some one is playing a dangerous

ke—

“A joke that ends in death! Four times have
I seen or heard of that card before to-night.
And four dead men have been found—”

“A mere coincidence. Dead men are no
rialri in these parts,”'and Overton laughed,
s o y.

 

3.

“ Was it a coincidence that each one of those
four were with us when we—”

“ Hush!” muttered Overton, as a sharp rap
resounded through the building.

The colonel g1ided_to the door while his com-
panion, with a painful effort row a. revolver
rom beneath his head. Overton tapped gent]
upon the door, and as the sound was imitate ,
opened it and gave admittance to a short, slight-

built man.

” Brown! did you meet anybody in the street
“was there any person hanging around the
house?” ea erly demanded the crippled man, as
Overton re ‘red the door.

“ No, captain. I made sure of that. It
wouldn’t be healthy for me if I were seen here
at present. I fear the dogs begin to sue ct. I
am almost sure that I have been watc ed for
near‘lzy two days past. ”

“ on have been careless—drinking, again,
and so let the truth leak out,” angrily uttered
Overton.

“ I look like a man who would hang himself,
don’t I? If I had given them the faintest clew,
I wouldn’t be here now. You have no right to
accuse me. You refused the duty—”

“ Make your report—time presses.”
to“ To the captain, not to you, Colonel Over-

11.

“ Peace—can on two never meet without
bandying words?” impatiently interposed the

cm e

‘ fobeyed your orders to the very letter, cap-
tain,” quietly answered Brown. ‘I managed
it so that another man struck the trail, and
though I contrived that they should not miss a
single point, no one could even suspect that I
was guiding them. The rest of the boys played
their part well; so well that at this time ester-
day I could have sworn we would have on a.
hundred miles awa at the hour set for ‘ opening:
the bank.’ Butl nightas calledDas —
in Ned aside, and must have posted him. for
M hin the hour we were ' the back tr ’ .
I tried my best to make out w o and what the
stran er was but thanks to Double Dan, I fail—
ed. e stuck close to me, and I fear smoked
my object, for ever since he has hung to me
closer than a tick.”

“I would give five hundred dollars to know
who t?l,i’at stranger was! Could you not make a.
guess

“ No. It was dark when he rode u , and he
ke tbeyond range of the fireli ht. saw him
0 y for a moment. I made on that he was a
large man and that he wore a full white heard,
or else had on a White shirt; I could not swear
which.” .

For a fewminutes there was silence, and all
the men seemed busied with thoughts anything

but Womble.‘ -

“ ell, Brown ” finally said the man address—
ed as captain. ‘I believe, you have done the
best for us that lay in your power,- and I thank

on for it. But, if all is as you say, your work
in this uarter is done.
from the gers, think?”

“ If necessary, thou b that will strengthen
whatever suspicions t y may entertain. I
am at your command, now as ever, tain.”

“ Then shake'them of! and make for be in per
station. Send Davis to take’your p ace.
Lose no more time than you can help, but don’t
hIuri'uihanyd great risk,” said , the captain, extending

an

Overton nnbarred the door, but paused in the
act of opening it. Some one was comin down
the street, singin in a very unsteady and
husky voice, varie by an occasional drunken
whoop. As he drew opposite the house, the fel-
low lurched over and fa against the door. The
impatient curse upon Overton’s lips was check-
ed as god caught a peculiar scratching rap, twice
re a . .

P‘BOpen and let him in," cried the captain,
61‘ y

verton obeyed, the follow gliding in, and in-
stantly closing and barring the door, he uplift-
ed one finger in warning.

A moment later there came a. quick, elastic
tread; it passed by without ausing.

“They ain’t no harm in gein’ too cautious,”
chuckledthe new-comer, betrayianlgmi‘iio signs of
intoxication. “I saw a teller me that
looked like he wanted to lmow what I was
bound, but I reckon I throwed him off the trail.
I run into the Golden Harvest, an’ be follered
me. While I was gittin’ outside of a couple'o’
glasses 0’ p’izen I tuck the critter’s fortygraph.”

“ Who was he?” asked the captain.

“ A stranger to me. Awhalin’big teller with
along white b’ard—the same galoot as helpgg
that critter out at the show, an’ then knoc '
thing‘thgegown'”' for h god ‘ k lan

men in c an quic g
and the same icion arose in the mindcedf
each. They believed that this spy and the man
who had warned the Ran r captain of the plot
to rob the San Antonio was one and the
same person. If so, the toils weresurely closing
around them.

“ It mebe wasn’t me he was after,” resumed
the s y. “ He didn’t Btayvlong. Jestashe went
out ketched a. glim of Brownie, thnr, pass-
in’ by, but didn’t}: nk it best .to in him. I
waiteda good bit,then struck on . Jest as I

Can you cut loose

4  N  w Bjeaiclle’s Dime Library.

 

 

turned into this street I ketchcd si ht o’ the old
rip, and to make sure, I come the runken man
over him.”

“ You should have passed on; but, since you
are here, what have you to report? What suc-
cess?

“ Big, boss! of it ain’t wu’th a week’s drunk,
you kin kick me! I struck trail two days ago,
an’ never left it ontel I sucked the lemon dry.
What you hearn was true. , Those two young
fellers was fresh from Galveston. They’ve bin
axin’ the same questions here. One on ’em is
called Kirke Howard, t’other is Mark Bird.
They’re cousins, from Louisiany. They’re
huntin’ fer a man named David Woodson.”

“ You can place them on that trail Overton,”
and the captain smiled grim] . “ s
that he was at the bottom of t is resurrection.
l’il'he3779re welcome to all they can learn through

um.

“ ’I‘hey’s more a-comin’, boss,” soberly added
the spy. “They’ve bin up to the old ranch.
They was comin’ from thar when I fust struck
them. I knowed they was safe, an’ so I tuck a
scout around. They d bin to the grave. It’d
bin fresh opened. An’ they was a. skull layin’
to one side. It’d just bin dug up, fer the dirt was
wet on it. I don’t know—~”

The spy gave a convulsive start, whirled half-
waly round, then fell heavily to the floor.

he three men seemed petrified with astonish-
ment. The spy had fallen like one death-strick-
en, yet no person had touched him; there had
been no report of gun or pistol.

Overton was the first to recover himself, and,
stooping, he lifted the bod in his arms. Body,
for the spy was dead! et neither blood nor
wound was visible‘l .

CHAPTER IV.
THE PINK DOMINO.

IN a whisper Mark Bird told his cousin
what words had so strangely come to his ears,
but in vain they sou ht to discover the speaker.
All present appea deepl and solely interest—
ed in the turn taken by w at promised, at one
time, to end in a free fight.

The young man who had so authoritatively
interfered, after keenly uestioning those
around him, was convinced t t Colonel Over-
ton had acted solely in self-defense, and after
asking if the dead man had an friends present,
bade wo of his men convey e corpse to the
calaboose for identification.

“You are satisfied then, sheriff, that I am
not to blame for this little aflair?’ politely asked
Ohveiton, holding a handkerchief to his lacerated
c as .

“ Quite. You acted just as I should. The
man must have been drunk or crazy.”

“ They take matters cool enough ’ said Kirke,
as the two cousins turned away from the scene
of blood. “ But that voice—are you sure you
understood the words ari ht?”

“ I heard them as p ’ as I hear myself.
But the proof is easy. If there is any such

lace in town as the Golden Harvest-J

“ You couldn’t find a better lace fer raal up-
an’-down fun in seven States, s‘trangerl”

The cousins turned insmprise,,for the prom t
assortion seemed in answer to Mark’s wor .
A short, wiry little man was close behind them,
gazing benignly upon them with his one green-

h gray eye, and slowly nodding his head by
wav of emphasis.

“ Evenin , gentlemen. I don’t make it a p’int
to cut in when ’tain’t my deal, as a. gen’al thing,
but you tetched me in my tender p’int, then.”

This eglanation did not lessen the surprise.
Thou h ere was but the one man within ear-
shot, wo different voices were speaking at one
and the same time. And both voices uttered
thesame words. The little man was winking
and blinking as he nodded before them, but his
lips did not appear to move.

There came a shrill, cacklirng chuckle, blend-
ing with a deeper, rumbling guffaw, and once
more the double voice was heard:

“ You’re new in these parts, I reckon, gentle-
men, or ou’d beam tell 0’ me ’fore this.
Double an, the sperts call me. Does look
kinder funn tell you git sort 0’ ’quainted.
They was a. ig mistake made, some’rs, when I
was hatched. ’Pears like the ’tention was to
have twins, but all two voices was utt into one
karkidge—which is me. That’s w y they call
mfilDouble Dan,” and the little man nodded and
ro ed his one eye around in a manner so whim-
sical that, taking into consideration his ludi-
crousl combined voices, the cousins could not
restr their laughter.

“ The ’s money in it, tool Great sax-pints! of
you co only see me in a ramps ’n’ jamboree
——an‘ me a-lettin’ off steam! you’ think they
was a hull rijiment on the war-path! But you
was talkin' of the Harvest, when I came up.”

“ What sort of place is it?” asked Mark.

“Ti er—lots on ’eml You kin chaw or git
chatv , jest as e I”

“ A gambling he I suppose?”

“ Bet ye—squar’ deal, tool But onless ou’re
lucky, you don’t want to invest. They say
the sharp as runs it hes sold his soul to the old
boy. I wouldn’t sw’ar it but of all the luck,

' is the outdoinestl e e is run fa’r,
though. I watched ’em three nights haw-run-

 

 

 

nin’, with a barker in each pocket, but I never
got a chaince to bu’st a cap.
“ It will be open to-nigh , I suppose?”
:: % don’t never shgt up]: Shad 1) t6 d
ou appear pret y we pa in rm to
Howard. ‘Do you know a man hamed David
Woodson?”
“I mought,” was the slow response, and the
twinkling eye suddenly became fixed.
“There’s fifty dollars in my pocket for the
_rso1n that places me in communication with

“They’s plenty in these parts as would do it
fer less monelyr but my price runs higher.
Mebbe ef you’ trom on my corns, or lend me
a wipe on the bugle, might ’commodato e. I
kin show ye whar he putts up, of you like—
Thar’s my call,” he exclaimed, as a shrill whistle
floated to their ears. “Ef I kin, I’ll see ye to-
night at the Harvest.”

“ At last!” exclaimed Howard, his eyes glow-
ing. “He knows our man; he shall lead us to
him at the muzzle of a revolver, if no other
means will do.”

“Easy, old fellow. You heard him say that
he would meet us at the Harvest to—night. If
he refuses when he knows what we want, then
will be time enough to boil over. He cannot
give us the slip, anyway. That double voice
would mark him wherever he wen .”

Shortly after supper the cousins sallied forth,
having gleaned a1 necessary information from
the waiter who attended them at their meals.
The building was easily found; a commodious
structure, situated near the heart of the city.
A huge red glass globe hung over the doorway,
bearing the legend GOLDEN HARVEST. There
was no doorkeeper. Admittance was free to
all. The large square room was fairly lighted
by a hu e chandelier depending from the ceil-
ing, ho ding a dozen oil lamps. The only
games in operation Were three faro lay-outs,
at the upper end of the room. Near the back
were scattered a number of small round tables.

“ ls([aly’re doing a land-o e businessl” mut-
tered ark, as his eye rapidly k in the crowd
with which each table was surrounded where
faro was being played. “And there’s your
man with the two voices. I suspected him of
bein a ‘ ca per,’ but he’s playing too earnestly
for t at. ow what’s the programme?”

“You understand the ame. Go lay alittle.
We may be watched. I l manage get what
we want out of this fellow, Double Dan. Pla
money, not chips, so on can leave at a no .
T‘fire’sa place open; p in,” muttered How-

Mark slipped into 'tion at the center-table
while Howard stood hind Double Dan. That
worthy was playing a keen, rapid, yet closely-
calculated game, and every motion betrayed
how familiar he was with each detail. Yet ill-
luck followed every wager he made, the cards
turning ' t him wit out an exception. Yet
there co d be no question of foul play, for the
bank was losin quite heavily at every deal.
For a few turns ouhle Dan sat idle. then placed
the small amount of his pile of chi upon the
queen to win. A single turn, an the queen

lost.
“Bu’stedl I’m goin’ to shoot myself—in the
neck l” squeaked and rumbled Double Dan, aris-

m .

Eirke Howard can ht his eye, and made a
covert signal. Double an winkeda proving] ,
and crossing- the room to the side ard du y
shot himself in the neck—with a glass of whisky.

“Are you ready to earn that fifty, my
friend?” asked Howard, in a subdued tone, see-
ing that the negro waiter was eying ‘tbem curi-
o v.

“ No, I ain’t,” and Double Dan faced the young
man.

“ You said you would show me where he
lived—”

“Whar he putts u , stranger. I didn’t say
lives, fer that would a lie. The only Dave
Woodson I ever knowed, is dead; pegged out
ten- ear ago.”

“ mpossiblel I received a letter from him
not two months a 0, written in this very town i”

“Somebody sto e his name, then. I planted
Dave with my own han’s. That Injun Turn-over
wiped him out. ‘ bring a dozen boys as
witnesses. Dave never writ you no letter,
’cause paper couldn’t stan’ the pressure whar he
is—not much 1” ' ed Double Dan. -

Kirke Howar stood like one dumbfounded.
If this David Woodson had died so long ago
who had written the letter that now lay next
his heart, seeming to scorch his skin? Were the
contents a lie, as well as the signature? Was
the mystery which haunted his life never to be
solved?

“My time’s up, stranger,” said Double Dan,
at len h. “ Ef ever you want to learn anythin’
more bout Dave that was, jest hunt up the
Rangers an’ ax fer Double Dan. So long, mate 1”

Mechanically Kirke Howard returned the
salute, then dropped into a. seat at one of the
round tables, troubled and bewildere l. Bowing
his head u on his arms, he remained motionless,
thin ' , ostto‘his surroundings. If any one
observ him. they fancied him drunk, and

him by without another thought.

When Mark Bird took his seat at the faro

 

table, he did not intend to let himself become
interested in the game, but there was a 5 ice of
the true gamester in 1115 composition, an as he
won several nominal stakes, he forgot the
warning of his friend, and soon had eyes for
nau ht save the game. Fortune stood his friend,
and e had won several hundred dollars, when
he became sensible of a faint, subtle perfume.
strangely out of place amidst that liquor and
tobacco-scented crowd. A light hand touched
his shoulder, and a soft musical voice uttered:

“ Pardon, senor. Oblige me by ‘coppering ’
the knave.”

A small, neatly-gloved hand was holdin
several gold coins; a round, white arm, a shor
lace sleeve, a neck of dazzling purity and rare
shapeliness, then a pink satin mask from behind
which had issued the request. This is what
Mark saw as he raised his eyes in wonder.

“ I wish to play—J cannot reach the table-
that is why I presumed to trouble you, senor,’
added the musical voice.

Flushing hotly, Mark rose from his seat mak-
ing way, unheeding the angry scowls an even
curses with which his crowding was greeted by
those to whom the sight of a woman at the
tables was not such a rarity. With the best
how he could command on the spur of the mo-
ment. Mark begged her to accept his chair.

“ But I am spoiling our me, senorl”

“ Iwas playing simp y to ‘11 time. I would
much rather watch your play, if you will per-
mit me. ”

“ You will learn little, I fear ” and the dom-
ino laughed softly as she slipped into the prof-
fered seat. “Your gold, senor. I did not beg
that, also,” and she motioned him to take up his
winnings.

“ As a. favor, please stake it for me. Fortune
must smile u n so fair 8. wooer,” Mark whisper-
ed, his lips a most touching her shell—like ear.

“Together, then,” and t e Woman emptied a
purse of gold upon the little pile. “We will be

artners, senor.”

“ For life, if you will, lady!" and as two won-
drous eyes flashed upon him through the ink
domino, Mark felt that the words, rompte by
a. s irit of gallantry, were repeate in his heart
of carts.

For one moment their ea er eyes met, then
the mask turned her head an placed gold upon
several of the cards. One versed in the game
would have seen that she was bettin at ran—
dom, and, his icy calm broken by this discov-
ery the dealer elevated his eyebrows witha curi-
ous glance. He saw Mark bending over the
mask, Whispering in her ear, and his lip curled
with an amused contempt. He saw that another
and (lee r game was being played.

“ My ast stake—and lost!’ laughed the mask.
“No, senor,” as Mark eagerly produced his

ket—book. “ I will lay no more this even-
in . I am unlucky. ides, it is very close in
th s crowd. I am almost stifled l”

“Pray allow me,” and Mark drew her little
hand through his arm. “It is cooler over here,
and we can converse without fear of being over-
heard. You will favor me for a few moments?”

“ I shall be lad of the rest. I was very fool-
ish in comin ere; and yet—I do not regret it. ”

Mark th ‘ ed from head to footat this speech,
for it was—or else fancy deceived him—accom-
panied by the faintest im inable pressureupon

is arm. He tried to speavk, but for the life of
him he could not utter a word just then. So-
lecting a corner table, he beckoned to the waiter
and ordered refreshments.

“I have been wonderin when and where we
have met before to~nigh ,” he said, at len h.
“Though you so cruelly conceal your face, am
Elmo’st certain that this is not our first meet-
ng.

“ I was at the sports, to-day. I saw you, se-
nor. It was a very brave act, your risking your
life for that holy.”

“i’Tgvas not ing—and you recognized me,
aga n

“ Yes. Only for that, I would not have
thou ht of playing to night. I saw you. I felt
that must ak to you. Do not think me too
bold in admi ting this, senor. I am a Spanish
woman. We are ruled by warm hearts, rather
than cold reason. And yet—-I see now that I
was wrong. What an opinion you must have
formed of me 1”

With a half-choked sob, the domino bowed her
head upon her hands. Forgetting where he was
—for tting that a hundred eyes might be
watc 'n his every gesture—Mar ' stole one arm
around he dainty waist, and gently took s—
session of her hands. ’But with a swift, eel- ike
motio the mask freed hersolf, With an exclama—
tion of alt-anger, half-re roach casting a swift
glance around as though earmg his rashact had
attracted observation.

A low, gasging sound d her lips, and she
sat as thoug petrified, er eyes riveted upon
the face of a man who had  entered the
room. Mark followed the direction of her
glance, and recognized the white-bearded man
who had performed so bold an act in rescuing
the injured man at the hull-fight.

Unconscious of the interest he was causing,
the stranger used at the center-table, and ,ut-
tered a ' sound. The dealer raised his
eyes, an , as he did so, turned pale as death.

 

, 5

 

Equality Eph.

 

“Please tell me what is the limit to—night,
friend,” uttered the gray-beard, in a deep, yet
pleasant-sounding voice.

“ There is no limit,” slowly dropped from the
gambler’s lips.

“ Goodl” and tho stranger’s voice rung out
sharply. “ I choose the ace to win, and wager
this, and my life against yours I”

As he spoke the stranger dropped a heavy
buck-skin bag upon the table his lowing eyes
seeming to pierce the dealer t rough and
through. .

Players and s ectators alike drew asxde.
There was somethm in the stran er’s demeanor
that awed them. e dealer g anced swiftly
around the room, then, lacing a cocked revol-
ver before him, began t is deal.

“ The ace wins—«I claim my stakes l” and blend-
ed with the wild, exultant words, the stranger’s
pistol explodes. .

The dealer fell forward, (lead. Aheavy chair
whistled through the air, and the chandelier
was shattered to atoms. All was dark. Ascene
of horrible confusion followed. Mark Bird
grasped the pink domino, but are he could move
urt er he was stricken to the floor!

 

CHAPTER V.
NEWS THROUGH THE WINDOW.

MARK Binn opened his eyes, and stared
around him in stupid amazement. He found
himself in a small, square room, through the
one window of which the red beams of the set—
ting sun were streaming. He believed that he
could reco nize the room, but what had occur-
red—why id his head feel so ueer?

At the sound he made, Kir e Howard came
forward, and as he peered into the wide-open
eyes of his cousin, a bright, glad smile chased
the uneasy expression from his face. _

“ Good enough, old fellow! How do you think
you find yourself after the racket?”

“All mixed upl That sun yonder should be
the moon this room is too small, you ain’t half
the crowd you should be—and my head’s as bi
as a bushel-basket! What does i all mean, an
where was I when it took place? That’s what
gets me I”

“ It’s all right end up, Mark,” laughed Kirke.
“ You drink this stuff, like a little man, and I’ll
rub the cobwebs out of your eyes. Somebody
lent you a. little tap, last night, and you’ve been
sleepin ever since.”

“AIM the lady—what of her?" eagerly inter-
rupted Mark.

‘Allin good time. Do as I bid you, or I’ll
not open my head for a week—that’s flatl” and
Howard he d the draught to his patient’s lips.

Mark, making a virtue of necessity, meekly
swallowed the potion, then lay back 11 n his
pillow with an ex taut look in his everish
e es. Howard 100 edat him closely, and saw
that nothing less than a full explanation would
quiet him. .

“You remember where we went that eve-
nm a”

“ t night? of courso. To the Golden Har-
vest,” promptly responded Mark. “I remem-
ber all, up to when the lights went out. Some-
body struck me, I suppOsel”

“ Somebody or somethin . You know I left
you, to at what we wante to learn, out of that

ouble an. I managed to get him to one side,
and pumped him. He said that David Woodson
was dead—that he buried him, himself—ten
yea-1'3 I”

“But that letter! he was lyiifig-you did not
offer him enough " interrupted r , excited.

“_ He swears t t some one else must have
written the letter. He offered to bring a dozen
Witnesses to prove that the genuine David
Woodson was dead, and buried. He spoke no
more than the truth, as I am now convinced. I
have hunted up the witnesses and heard their
story. I rode over to Buzzard’s Roost, where
the grave is. I opened the grave, and found the
mot In a fight with the greasers Woodson

_ his skull broken, and the surgeon mended it
With a Spanish dollar marked with a cross. I
found that dollar; and here it is. ”

mark fingered the curious relic thoughtfully.
The mystery of that letter troubled im. f
not Woodson, then who did write it? If the
Signature was false, could any dependence be
placed 11 n the rest?

“My t oughts were the same, at first,” added
Kirke, reading the doubts of his cousin. “ But,
don’t for et what we discovered at the old
ranch. We know that the wron man was
buried there. Since he was not ki ed with the
others, he ma be alive still. The letter may be
true, althoug the name of a dead man was

sign toit.’
‘Where is this Buzzard’s Roost—how far
from here i”
“ Nearly sixt miles, south-west from here.”
“You must ave ridden hard,” said Mark,

1 .

‘ 1y was anxious,” hastily regilied Kirke; “ and

did not 6 my horse. at let that pass.

About last night. I was seated at a. table not

far away when you left off playing for a softer
me

“ Easy, Kirkel That lady—-”
“Exactly. That lady was everything she
should be, I have no doubt. At first 1 w as even

 

 

inclined to envy you your luck—and that on
know, is saying a good deal for me. We 1, I
watched you; if you will have your interviews
take place in a ublic room, you can expect no
less. I saw the llady start when that man with
the big white beard entered, and naturally that
drew my attention to him. I heard his wager,
and saw the end. I saw the chair sail through
the air and knock the chandelier to pieces, and
I knew right well what would follow. I shouted
to you, but the uproar was so great that I could
barel hear my own voice. Some one sprung
swiftly past me, so close that m clothes were
touched. Istumbled forward,f in over you.
You were lying flat upon your bac , and as I
fell, my hand rested upon your breast. There
was a hand in your pocket. I felt it distinctly,
though only for a. moment; then it was jerked
awav. But in that brief instant, I knew that
the hand was small and delicate; and it was
gloved.”

“ You don’t mean—I won’t believe it l” cried
Mark, his eyes glowing viv1dly.

“I am simply telling you w at I experienced.
You must draw your own conclusions," quietly
responded Kirke. “I made a blind grasp in the
dark, and my hand closed upon a round, bare
arm. Before I could make sure of my prize, I
received a severe blow upon the head, and fell
again almost senseless.

“All this time the gayest kind of a circus was

oing on over and around the fare tables, and
Icould hear the bullets spattering all around
us. I managed to drag you into one corner
and crouche down over you; it was the bestI
could do, for I was too faint to boar you out-
side, even if I could have made way through the
crowd. A few minutes later—1t seemed as
man hours to me—the sherilf entered at the
head7 of his men, and quelled the row as by
magic. Lights were brought in, and dama es
counted up. It was a sickly-looking outfit. 9
furniture was shattered, the banks gobbled, and
three poor fellows laid out for good.

As soon as I could, I got help and had you
carried in here, after giving our names and ad-
dress to the sheriff, in case we should he want-
ed. “Then I hunted up a doctor—and here you
are.

“What was the matter with me’l Anything
besides a rap on the head?”

“Nothing; but that was quite enough. You
have lain like a log ever since. I’ve not taken
off my clothes for three—” Kirke bit his lip,
but the mischief was done.

“You did not spare your horse, old fellow,
and on needn’t s are me,” lau bed Mark.
“Te me how long have lain here ”

“ This is the third day, if you will have it. ”

“That accounts for my feeling so hollow,
thenl And I’m hun y enough to eat a live
wolf. Suppose you s irmish around and scare
me upa sup ly of grub. Don’t be too stingy
about it, neit er.”

Relieved at Mark’s bearing the discove of
his long stu r so well, Howard hasten to
obey, and w en he returned with a heaping
tray, he found his cousin up and dressed, look-
ing little the worse for his narrow escape from
death. Mark laughed at his look of consterna-
tion, and pitched into the viands with a vigor
_that more than aught else, reassured Kirke.

“ ou say you watched us,” Mark final] ut-
tered, though with an evident effort. “ ind,
now, I won t believe a single word against her;

ou can’t change my trust and faith 11 her, but

’m curious to earn just what you thought of
her, anywa . Come, now!"

“ I thong t her actions were those of one who
was using every ossible art to gain a certain
end. It is poss1b e that love was at the bottom
of it all: but since I could take in oath that I
felt her hand in your breast-pocke , and caught
hold of her arm a moment later, I can only be-
lieve that she was after the pers you carried
in that very ket not a ozen hours before.
And she wou d have had them too, only for
your pocket getting torn at the show. ’

Marklwas about to reply, when there was a
crashing of lass, and a small missile fell upon
the table. T e broken pane of glass told whence
it had come, and with one accord the cousins
8 run to the opening. The street was deserted.

ot a iving being was to be Seen. Howard ran
down-stairs and outside, but his search was in
vain. Nor were his questions better rewarded.
No person had been noticed upon that side of
the ouse.

“It is a letter,” said Mark, as he returned,

inting to a bit of paper which had been neat-
y wrap d around a pebble._

“If al mail is delivered in alike manner I
wonder who pays the glazier?” but Howard’s
laugh was anything but natural as he picked up
the strangely—delivered missive.

The contents were brief, but significant, and
read as follows:

“MESSRB. HOWARD & Bran:

“Gunsmiths—You are working a. blind lead
here. There was an error in the letter you received.
For San Antonio. read San Marcos. For certain
reasons, all of which will be duly explained, D. W.
is unable to meet. on here. If you are ready to
follow up the hint e has given on, take the trail
for San Marcos to-moxrow. As there for Chris.
Morris. He has his instructions and will place you
in communication with D. W."

 

The note was without a signature, unless a
rude drawing attho bottom of a Spanish dolnr,
crossed, magibe said to be a signature.

In silence oward produced a letter from his
pocket-book and compared the two. Both had

een written by a hand that had evidently been
long out of practice with the pen. Except in
this respect there was no siinilarity whatever
between the two.

The cousins consulted Ion and earnestly. As-
sured as they were that avid Woodson was
dead and buried, they could not banish the sus—
picion that there was a deep plot working
against them. And yet-there was one grain
o truth in the first letter. It told them that the
man who had been buried nearly twenty long
years ago was not the man whose name was
carved u n the rude wooden headboard that
marked t a grave.

“We will go and see,” at length decided How-
ard. “There is no use in our waiting here.
There may be something in it. If not—if there
is mischief meant, we are not infants. Our
bands can guard our heads.”

Their course of action fairly settled, the
cousins lost little time. They made all neces-
sar preparations and by questioning the land-
lor , found that San Marcos was distant some
fifty miles. A visit was paid the surgeon, who
stated that by ridin early and late, lying over
during the heat of t 0 day, Mark might make
the trip without fear of a relapse.

That evening Mark stole forth alone to see if
he could learn anything concernin the pink
domino, but without success. She disap-
peared as might a veritable vision.

Early in the morning the cousins rode out of
San Antonio—rode forth to meet their fate!

CHAPTER V1.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

Caner-me slowly, silently through the tall
grass and reeds, now pausing beside a tree-trunk
or clump of bushes, now gliding swiftly across
an 0 en, sy space, with glittering black
eyes nt the ground as though reading a
trail. An untrained eye would have seen noth~
ing yet the experienced trail-hunter knew
right well that his my had passed that way,
not an hour earlier. 8 could race the outlines
of a small, moccasined foot where the grass-
blades seemed perfect and unbroken‘ he could
point to a single upturned leaf among hundreds,
and say: the passage of a human form did this.

Winding throu h the tangled shrubbery, the
trailer reaches t e sloping bank of the little
river. The moccasined footprints are still be
fore him. He knows that his prey is near, for
they lead down the clayey bankto the water’s
edge. He slowly parts the leafy branches and
cautious] ' rsforth. A peculiar glow fills his
e es, an his-lips curl in an exultant smile until
t e white, pom ed teeth glisten like the fangs of
a anther. He withdraw his head like a turtle
in 0 its shell, and utters the harsh,

 

screech of the bluerjay. From across e deep
but narrow and slug stream comes the lu-
dicrous tweetle—twee tweetle of its mate.

Once more he peers forth. His victim re-
mains motionless. ’The sounds are too common
and too well executed to arouse suspicion that
evil is brewin . In silence he retreats and as
stealthilys ' es the river a few rods further
down. ust beneath him is the dirt-crowned
roots of a tree which has fallen into the water,
its broken top nearly touching the o posite
shore. Upon a rude seat, improv with
sticks and grass, near the center of the stream,
a youn woman is seated, flshin . So the slen-
der e she is holdingwould in icate, but there
is a ar-away expresswn u )1 her fair face, a.
dreamy look in er deep-b uo eyes that tell of
a heart and mind far away from her present
occupation.

The dark face of the trailer flushed hotl , and
an evil look filled his eyes as he loa upon
every detail of that fair face and orious form.
A wondering oath broke from his i

“I have been blind as a mole! 0 think that
I have let such a treasure escape me for years!
She is lovelier than her mother ever was—and I
waded through blood forher.’ There is many
a. chief” would give me a fortune for such a.

uaw

_ n his eagerness to gain a less obstructed
view of the air fisher the trailer bore too hea-
vily upon the edge of the bank, and a portion
of earth gave way. He made a desperate effort
to recover his balance, but in vain. Amused
by the rattle of falling clods, the maiden,
aroused from her reverie, glanced hastily
around Just in time to catch a. glim of the
spy as 9 rolled down the bank and isappear—
ed behind the earth-covered roots of the tree.
She started up in alarm, but are she could make
any attem t at escape the head of the spy was
elevated a ve the mound, and a voice address-

ed her:

“Don’t be alarmed, Miss Minnie. I just stop-
ped to ask what luck you’ve had,'flshing.”

There was something in the words added to
the mud-bedaubed visage, that caused the maid-
en to laugh, despite her fright. But this was
abru tly cut short as the man drew himself up
and on d lirrhtly upon the tree—trunk, thus
cutthig er 0% from the shore. Stooping, he

6

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

 

filled his hands with water and washed the mud
from his face. Then, seated upon the tree-trunk,
he produced tobacco and a pipe, coolly eying the
youn woman while he loaded the pipe and
struc a match. Then, with a quiet smile, he
re uted his uestion: I

‘ What luc have (you had fishing, my dear?”

“ None. It is a be day I am going back to
the house. Stand aside and let me pass, Colo-

v ncl Overton,” shortly replied Minnie Lamb,
winding up her line.

“Your atience is in fault, not the fish or
weather, innie. Throw in again and if on
don’t catch a bite in ten minutes I’ll forfeit a
new dress,” drawled Overton, not moving.

“I want nothin of your dress—still ess of

you.” an ‘ily rep 'ed the girl. “Stand aside,
or 1711 ca] for he] .”
“ To whom? e house is empty, for I stop-

ped there first. The old woman and her white
nigger have gone to Austin, on purpose to leave
me a clear field.”

“ ’ i‘is false!” and Minnie stamped her foot in
anger. “They have nothing in common with

on. They loathe and hate you—I have heard

em say so a thousand times.”

“ Did you ever hear them say why?” grinned
Overton. “I can tell you. Because the fear
me. Because I hold a secret of theirs; in the
hollow of my hand rests their life or death.
With one word I could 've them over to the
rope. This Is why they be Inc—and it is one
reason why they have gone awa and left you
alone this da . I warned them t at I was com—
ing here to c aim my rights. I gave them their
choice: to tell you the whole truth, or else to go
away on some pretense and leave the matter to
me. Because they were too tender-hearted—
that is the excuse they made; they had learned
to love you so—bah! what matter? They are
gene; we are here together. I to claim my na-
tural rights; you, to em obedience.”

“ You are either nk or era In either
case I will not listen to your f ehoods any
longer. Stand aside and permit me to pass,
quietly, or—”

“Or what?” sneered Overton, as Minnie
paused. - .

“I will clear the way myself!” cried the
maiden, swinging her fishing— ole around with a
swift motion, straight for his ead.

But Overton flung out one hand and received
the stroke upon his palm, then holding the pole
as in a vise, laughing at Minnie’s vain attempt
to wrest it free.

“You are your father’s daughter, all over!”
he said, approvingly.

“If he were here you would not be laugh-

' ”

mg Indeed! pr§y who told you anything about
your father? on were too young toremember
much, and I am retty confident that pair of
Lambs never spo e of him where you could
hear. I suppose you mean our friend, Fiddling
Hector, when you speak of father?”

“ He is m ather—you would not dare call

him thatto ' face!” panted Minnie, her eyes
aflame.
“I have called him worse, man a time,”
sneered Overton, pressing down the urning to-
bacco. “ He is in dog, to come and go at my
beck and nod. ' Wife is the better man of
the two, but she, too, is under in thumb. I ad—
mit thatvthey have called you heir child, and
have raised you as such; but there is not one
drop of their blood, flows in our veins. And if
you knew all, you would t ank Heaven upon
your bended knees that such is the case.”

“ If the are not my parents, then who am I?

But I ' not believe it! You are 1 'ng to me
—it is false from beginning to end!’ cried the
le—the sole bar-

rier between her an 6 her frame quiv-
ered with strong agitation.

“ You do believe it—something in your heart
tells you that what I say is true, uttered Over-
ton, in a changed voice, his eyes holding the
maiden enchained as a serpent charms the flut-
tering bird. “ You feel that those two are not
your parents. Already your heart disewns

hem. You feel that you come of better blood
——higher birth; and you re ri ht. I can tell

on of your parents, and am t e only person
lvivin who can do so, for their lips are sealed. ”

“ e11 me—of my mother—” faltered Minnie,
speaking like one in a dream or under mesmeric
influence.

Overton smiled as he saw this. In that mo-
ment he looked like the very rince of evil.
Never moving his burning gaze rem the maid-
en’s eyes, he spoke, slowly:

“ The woman you have been taught to believe
your mother, has—or had until yesterday—a
gold locket and chain. In that locket are two
portraits—”

“Of her mother and father. I have seen
then,” uttered Minnie, mechanically.

" So she told on; but she lied. The originals
of tuose portrai were of no kin to her. You
have seen them, you say? Was there nothing
familiar—did the sight arouse no old, almost
forgotltleii memories in your heart? Look again
—c:itc !

A-s he spoke Overton tossed the girl a small
molallion locket and chain. Still acting as
the ,igh under some subtle spell, Minnie touched

maiden; but she dropped the
1m, w

 

the spring. The locket opened, revealing two

fairly executed portraits on ivory. For a brief

1slpafie she gazed in silence, then slowly shook her
ea .

“ Hang it around your neck. Guard it well,
for that trinket is worth a heavy ransom. So;
you cannot remember. And yet, those are the
faces of your own father and mother.”

The maiden started, and for a moment it
seemed as though she would lose her foothold,
but grasping a broken branch, she struggled

bravely to conquer her agitation.

“I am tellin you not ing more than I can
rove,” added erton, knocking the ashes from
is pipe.

“ It is a long story, but the grincipal
points can be summed up in a few wor  I saw
your parents married. They were intimate
friends of mine, though they were rich and

rend, while I was but a wild, untrained lad

resh from the prairies. Some day 1 will tell
you how we became friends; I have not time
now. When you were three years old there was
a terrible tragedy. A house was robbed, set
fire, and burned down. There was talk of even
worse—of murder. Two charred bodies were
taken from the ruins; those of a man and a wo—
man. It was supposed that a little child had
been totally consumed. But that part was
false. The child was saved; for what purpose,
and how, you will learn later. One man com-
mitted the crime, though his wife helped him to
plan it. He was a soft, half-silly fellow, and the
sight of the blood his hand had shed, unsettled
his brain still more. They fled, and took the
child with them. I struck a clew, followed it
up, and finally run them to earth.

“ That man and wife were Hector and Nancy
Lamb; the child—can you not guess?”

“You expect me to believe this?" and there
was the old, proud ring to her voice as she drew
her lithe form erect. “I will—when you re-
peat it face to face with my father and mother
—not before. Your eyes tell me that you are
lying), I will listen to you no longer. Let me

as!

“ What I have told vyou is truth, whether you
believe it or not. hen you leave this tree
you accompany me. If you are curious to know
why, there has a large fortune been left to your
parents or their heirs. Through you, I intend
to finger that money. With this intention I
have claimed you of the Lambs. Come—there
is no use in la ing shy.”

As he spo e olonel Overton arose and slowl
approached the maiden, seeking to hold her wit
his burning gaze as he had but a brief time be-
fore. He smiled triumphantl , for he believed
that he was succeeding, for innie stood as me-
tionless as a statue of stone.

He extended one hand to grasp her arm. The
maiden suddenly stooped, evading his p,
and with a d rate effort fairly pushe him
from the log, into the water, then sprung for-
ward and grasped the hickory fishing-pole. He
arose to the surface, making an effort to gras
the leg, but the heavy pole descended upon his
head, with all the force of the maiden’s arm.

Stunned, he sunk beneath the surface, and
Minnie sprung ashore—only to find herself close
locked in brawny, naked arms!

CHAPTER VII.
noron’s MISTRESS.

AT the very moment when Minnie Lamb was

checked in her bold attempt to escape the toils
so cunningly wound around her, Hector Lamb
was performing an even more desperate at-
tempt. Long before that day’s dawn, the pair
of unequally matched lambs had started for
Austin in the old dirty-white tilted wagon. Mis-
tress Nanc was in a more than usual acrid hu-
mor- her b tino' tongue wagged with the swift
regular-it of the fl ‘wheel of a machine work-
ingldoub e tides. eekly the giant submitted
to is tongue-lashing, but as the team of ragged
mules bore them nearer the end of their Jour-
ney, a wild, ‘ and tremendous plot was
slowly shaping itse f in the half—addled brain of
Hector Lamb. Could his better-half have read
his thoughts? Luckily for Hector, she did not
even suspect.
“You onhitch the team, and mind—you stay
by while they’re eatin’, an’ see nobody dont
steal thar feed: ou hear?” sharply cried Mis-
tress Nancy, as e sprun to the ound and
loaded her meek slave wit the various articles
of “garden truck,” butter and eggs, which it
was er pur se to trade out.

In silence ector unloaded himself, then left
the store as Nancy sup sad to faithfully carry
out her instructions. ‘ ad she only eyes in the
back of her head!

Slip ing behind the door and assuring himself
that s e was not pleering through the crack,
Hector Lamb clenc ed his fist and recklessly
shook it at the center panel of the door.

“Yer mother chawed snuff yer father was a
hog—thief: ’nd you dassent ta e it u l”

he panel stared at him blankly. ith a con-
tem tuous sniff, Hector Lamb slouched his rag-
ged at over one eye, inflated his mighty chest,
and with nose high in the air he turned his back
upon his charge and sailed down the street with
a, lofty air of independence that caused more
than one acquaintance to stare after him in
mute amazement. This did not escape Hector’s

 

 

 

eye, and his newly-found bravery was not a
little flattered thereat. With a reckless disre—
gard of consequences he returned their greeting
and declared that the must join him in cele-
brating his birthday. urning into a convenient
saloon, his health was drunk with all due sol«
emnity. .

“You’re lookin’ wonderful peart to-day,
Heck,” and the speaker winked an aside to his
fellows. “I see xyou an’ the oldwomun come
in. She was lookm’ kinder down in the mouth,
Ithought. You keep too tight" 3 rcin on her,
pard. Better give her head, oncet in awhile—
they works all the kinder for it.”

“It’s easy to tell you new-r was married,
Tom,” quoth Hector, leftily eying the grinning
Texan and pushing his glass over for another
supply of Dutch courage. “You slack up on
the lines jest one inch, an’ the durncd, con—
truiry critters ’ll stri l the harness like a mice.
You cain’t tell me. ’ve bin thar—I hev! For
instance. You know my old woman. They
ain’t a kinder-hearted, quieter critter in seven
States than she is—long as she feels the cairb.
She went jest like a clock. ‘ But you knew me.
I’m so durned soft-hairted. I thought it looked
kinder low down for a big, overgrowcd lummix
like me to be settiu’ down on her all the time.
So I did as you say. I let up on the cairb. How
did the thing work? They was a liummin’—bird
on wheels, right off, an’ that hummin’-bird was
my old woman. You could ’a’ knocked me over
with a corn-stalk, gentlemen. I didn’t think it
was in her. An’ yit, it wasn’t bad to take. I
kinder liked it, fer a change. But it‘s jest like
them wimmen. When they git a soft thing,
they never know when to let up. No more she
didn’t. She jest peeled an’ went in fer the hull
hog. I tried the eairb, but she jest kicked u
an tore the breechin’ all to thunder. Then
knowed the time was come fer me to putt my
feet down. I says to her, sa 5 I, ‘ Nancy, you
need a dressin’ down, an’ W at you need I’m
dut boun’ fer to give ye.’ When she see how I
spe 9, she cooled own, an’ promised to do bet—
terz ef I’d only fergive—”

‘ You, Hec—tor!”

The stem husband turned toward the door,
and he knew that Nemesis had overtaken him.
Here es glowing, her face white with rage, Mis-
tress ancy stood upon the threshold, :1. black-
snake whip in her hand. She had overheard
the poor braggart’s boasting. The very enor—
mitty of his sin was his safeguard for the pres-
en v.

With an air that was almost queenly, she
stepped into the room and pointed to the door,
her eyes transfixing Hector. Without a word
he slunk out of the room, not heeding the voice.
of the bar-tender, who clamored loudly for pay
for the liquor consumed.

“You can come to me fer pay,” quietly re-
sponded Mrs. Lamb. “I’ll pay you leng’s m
whip holds out, and then I’ll buy another!”
pistol-like crack of the wicked black-snake em-
phasized her threat, and with one White glare of
contemptuous defiance she left the room.

She found Hector at the wagon, unhitching
the mules.

“ Gimme that wallet you stole out o’ my redi-
cule. Ef onu’ve spent a cent, it ’11 be the wuss
fer you ow mind: you stay right here. You
don"t want to let me go huntin’ you up ag’in.”

That was a miserable ride home for poor Hec-
tor. There was no possibilitv of escape, and
Dame Nancy made good use of her opportunity.
Dull and thick-skinned as he was, it is a ques-
tion whether Hector did not suffer more acutely
beneath her barbed-tongue than he would had
she made use of the pliant black—snake.

The afternoon was over half-spent when the
ill-mated couple reached their home. .Hector’s
dull eyes lifigted up, for he saw a faint hope of
{escaping t t terrible tongue, for a time at
eas .

Nanc gave an ominous snifl", as nothing was
seen of innie.

“It’s that pesky Dashin’ Ned, I s'pose! No
sooner is my back turned then everythin’ must

've wav to loverin’ an’ sich like nonsense. You

innie! ’

“ ’Tain’t the cap’n,” ventured Hector. “ He’s
over Broad Prairie way. I hearn it at Austin——”

“ ’Tend to the critters an’ let that shet your
trap,” snapped Nancy. “I hearn somethin’ at
Austin you won’t forgit overlv soon !”

Hector meekly obeyed. ancy entered the
house to doff her “best things,” but at the first
step across the threshold, she paused with an ex-
pression of horror. U on the white, well-scour—
ed floor was a track, t e imprint of a 1011 , nar-
row moccasin in red mud. Robinson rusoe
may have experienced a renter terror at sight
of the Track, but he coul not have been more
thoroughly excited than was our housewife at
the desecration of her hearth. She raised her
voice and called to Hector, a ringing, ominous
summons that he dared not delay in answering
but leavin his mules half-ungeared he shambled
into the ca in. i

“ Blew the horn for Minnie,” said Nancy, and
there was a strangely subdued'cadence to her
voice that caused the giant’s big eyes to open
wide. “ Somebocly’s bin yere, makin’ mischief.”

While Hector blew blast after blast upon the
crooked ox-horn, Nancy pursued her investiga-

mm-

tions. She found that their one little hair-bound
trunk had been ransacked, and then she felt con-
vinced of the worst. The object she was look-
ing for was gone. There was only one man liv-
ing who knew its real value; the man, as she
now believed, who had left that muddy foot-
print upon the floor.

“ She’s gone a-fishin’, I reckon,” suggested
Hector. as half an hour iassed without anything

being seen or heard of t e missing girl. “ The
line’s gone.”
“ Run up the river to the Big Eddy. ’F she

ain't thar. make haste back an’ come on down,”
briefly commanded Nancy.

Hector obeyed with truly wonderful alacrity
f or one of his sluggish disposition, but his search
was vain. He knew, too, that Minnie had not
visited the Big Eddy that day, else the moist
earth would have betrayed the fact, by contain-
ing the imprint of her feet.

As he was returning to the house, he heard
the shrill voice of his wife pronouncing his
name, in a tone that seemed one of alarm 01'
'lse great excitement. Onl pausing at the
wagon to snatch up his rifle, ector ran swiftly
down the river-bank, nor paused until he reach-
ed the side of his wife. Her face was white and
nurdened, and bore an air of almost desperate
resolution.

Without a word she pointed to the moist clay
at her feet. Hector stooped, his uSually dull
«eyes glaring luridly.

The ground bore unmistakable evidence of a
:vtuhborn struggle, in the different footprints
»hut crossed and half obliterated one another.
.linong them he saw a small, daintily—formed
' rack that spoke only too plainly. He knew that
-:is little Minnie had made it; he knew that she
Karl fought nobly for freedom, if not life; and
he know, too, that her efforts had been in vain.
All this the footprints told him.

“ Injunsl” he muttered, hoarsel , as he arose.
“ They’ve stole away my little ga l but I’ll fol-
ler ’em—I’ll hunt ’em down ef it takesalife-
time!”

“There’s more yet,” said Nancy, with an
awful calmness. “ Go down the bank—look un-
der the roots. You’ll see thar’s more than In-
juns in this black work.”

Hector obeyed, and paused beside the pile of
dirt and roots just where Colonel Overton had
brought up in his roll down the bank. In the
stifiening mud was the imprint of a human hand
as clear and distinct as though taken by, a pro-
fessional modeler. The little finger had been
cut off at the middle 'oint; near its base was the
im rint of a broad, min ring.

he stared at ' tell—tale mark a dull.
grayish shade crept over the settler’s face, and
there was an ex ression of abject terror in his
eyes as he silent y climbed up the bank.

“ You see now who did it,” uttered Nanc ,
in alow, stern voice. “I knewed it would
so. Thar ain’t one dra 0’ true blood in his
ugl karkidgel He sto e the locket an’ he’s
stoe the girl. Come! we’re losin’ time. Git
the mules ready. I’d ruther the girl was dead
then in his hands l” .

“ He’ll murder us—you fergit what he said,”
muttered the settler, brushing the cold sweat
from his brow.

“ He’s broke his word; we kin break ours.
I’m goin’ of I hev to go alone. But if you play
the coward now, when she needs your help, you
an’ me is two from that minnit.”

“They’s a. dozen of ’em—not countin’ him.
You’ll only git massacreed. It’s pritty nigh
dark an’ we cain’t foller the trail.”

Nanc clutched at a stout stick, a. dangerous
fire in er eyes and. Hector, trembling with a
stran terror though he was, started on a run
Iflorift e cabin, closely followed by his better-

a .

The sun was setting when she emerged once
more from the cabin, bearin a. bundle of pro-
visions and an old rifle. leather belt was
around her waist, sugportin a knife and a.
brace of revolvers. S e clim d into the rag-
geldl saddle, signing to Hector to mount the other
in e.

“  out for Broad Prairie. ’5 Straight 9-5

 

you
CHAPTER VIII.
A FAIR ROAD-AGENT.

“Him! ntlemen; on are my prisoners.
Move one o'er towar drawing a weapon,
and that ' be the end of your earthly
troubles!”

.The two horsemen—th9 Howard and Mark
B_ll‘d, the cousins-«mechanically drew rain with
Simultaneous exclamations of wondering amaze-
ment.  well] they might. Little suspecting
any impen mg anger, ey were rid" ing risk]
along, thinking only of the cool shade and r3,—
pose which awaited them at the thick clum of
timber just ahead to reach which they badgefi;
the trail only a few minutes before. But in-
stead of a. comfortable rest, a most disagreeable
surprise greeted them.

A small, but fiery and beautifully-formed
mustan , spotted like a pard, dashed out from
the thic undergrowth, and its rider, holding a
cocked and leveled revolver in each hand,
sharply uttered the threatening challenge. In
mute amazement the cousins stared at the road—

 

Equality Eph.

 

 

agent. Undeniably brave though they were,

and possessing the advantage of numbers, nei-

31,613; piade any attempt to draw a weapon.
y.

Because the road-agent whose weapons cov-
ered their hearts was a woman!

“ You appear astonished, gentlemen,” and the
fair road-agent laughed softly. “You are not
accustomed to seeing woman’s rights carried to
such an extreme. Remember you are in Texas,
wheroall things are possible. But a truce to
'esting. You ave not answered my challenge.
lNill you surrender peaceably, or must I per-
suade you i”

“ We would have paid the toll far more will-
ingly had you trusted to your natural wea—
pens,” replied Mark, quickly recovering his
wonted audacity. “That would be a, triumph
worthy on and not shaming us. You ush
one’s gallantry hard, when you tr to en orce
homage at the muzzle of the pistol, adv.”

“Bah! do I look like one to beg for what I
can command? You think soft words are all
that is necessary, because I am a woman. I re-
peat that you are my prisoners. Will you sur-
render quietly—"’

“Without meaning any offense, madam or
miss,” interrupted Howard, in a tone of im a-
tience, “we have no time for jesting. ur
business, is pressing. And so—a fair good-day
to on.

‘ Stop!” sharply cried the woman, and as she
spoke one of her revolvers exploded. and How-
ard’s hat flew from his head. “Another move-
ment like that and I will send the mate of that
bullet through your brain. Your lives are at
my mercv, ut I would not have your blood
upon my hands, unless lyou force me. For cer-
tain reasons I Wish tota c you captive; but take
you I will, dead or alivel”

“ If you were not a woman—l”

“I ask no odds on that score,” proudly cried
the woman, her eyes flashing. ‘ Man or wo-
man, you could not escape me. Before you
could touch a was 11, I could lay you both
upon the ground, sad. But you are worth
fiiorgto us alive. Once more; do you surren-

er?

“Not unless we have some gnarantee—” be-
gan Mark, his easy tem 1‘ growing ruffled.

“ What your future ate will be does not rest'
with me,’ coldly interrupted the fair road-
agent. ‘ I have only to deal with the present.
I volunteered to arrest ion, thinkin that by so
doin Imight prevent loodshed. f I fail in‘
this, lame yourself. I have pledged in word
to take you into camp, and true as t e sun
shines down upon. us, I will keep my word.
Take our choice—dead or alive?”

Wit a sharp cgy, Howard touched his horse
with the spur an dashed toward the woman,
drawings. revolver at the same instant. But
rapid as were his motions, hers were e%ually
prompt. With an aim as unerrin as i was
swift, her revolver spoke, and shot rough the
brain, Howard’s horse lunged heavily forward,
casting its rider h ong to the ground. Her
face hghted with a. stern resolution, her eyes
glowin vividly, the woman shifted her aim and
covere Mark Bird before he could draw a. wea-

pon.

“ ShallI serve on the same, or are you sen—
sible enough to ow when you are worsted?
Youwhesitate? Look then! what chance have
you

As she spoke, she uttered a sharp whistle. As
though by magic Bird found himself surround-
ed by nearly a. dozen forbiddin docking men
who arose from the tall an covered him
with their pistols. Hot- looded and even reck-
less at times, Mark was not foolish enoughto
throw away his life Where there was not even
the ghost of a chance for him, and replied,
thou h sullenlgl:

“ t is your. in now. I surrender. Let me
look to my friend, then you can dispose of me as
you will.’

“Give me your weapons, first,” uttered the
woman, ridin close to his side, then 
in a. low, rapi tone: “ I was forced to act as
have, as the only means of saving your life. Be

rded, but never d . _. I will save you
th at the cost of my  e, if needs be."

Mark stared at her in astonishment, but the
woman snatched the istols from his hands with
a. frown, turning an extending the weapons
toward a young man who drew near.

“Take them, Martin,” a part reward for
permitting me to usurp your place just now.
And hold Queen for me, please. ’

Leaping lightly to the ground she advanced to
where Howard lay, still senseless afterhissevere
fall. ' Mark was at her side in an instant, un—
heedin the ugly glances with which he was fa-
vored tom the dark, handsome ' in par-
ticular.

“Your friend is not hurt,” said the young
woman after abrief but skillful examination.
“Give him a. dro of this brandy. And mind,”
she muttered in is ear as both bent over the
insensible man, “my life as well as yours de‘
pends upon yourprudence now. ”

Mark turned his head with a glance of under—
standing, but the young woman had turned
am’de, and his eyes met the black, snak orbs of
Martin, instead. This encounter his but an

 

instant, but was long enough for Mark to recog-
nize the fact that he had at least one bitter, un-
scrupulous enemy among the outlaws. There
was (loath plainly written in Martin’s eyes.

Afew moments later Howard recovered his
senses sufficiently to comprehend the disagree—
able situation into which himself and cousin had
fallen. Surrounded by nearly a score of men!
whose evil mid sin-scarred countenances but too
plainly bespoke the foulness of their hearts. it isl
not to be wondered at that his heart was heavy
and full of painful forebodings.

Nor was Mark feeling in much hettercase.
True, he was assured that a friend was nigh,
but even if full confidence could be placed in
her words, after the part she had so recently
played, she was but a feeble woman, after all.

As soon as Howard was able to walk, the
party, with the two captives in their midst, en-
tered the little tiinbei'ed island, pausing beside a
small, cool spring.

“ Get the ropes, Markle," uttered Martin, nod«
ding toward t e spot where a number of horse:
were tied. “Two of you fellows go strip the
horse. Bring the rigging in here."

“Stop, Martin,” exclaimed the young woman
as the outlaw, thongs in hand, was about to bind
the prisoners. “I took them captive. If they
will give their parole of honor not to make any
attempt to escape—”

“ I will promise nothing,” doggedly interrupt-
ed Kirke. “ I have been treated like a dog, and
I swear to have a deep and bitter revenge.”

“Pledge or no pledge, I am not going to run
any risk,’? growled Martin. “ I gave on our
way in the other matter, Belle, but wil not
risk the captain’s displeasure, even for our
honeyed smiles. If you are “iso, you wi 1 be
studying 3 some excuse for interfering in what
he intend to keep secret.”

The cousins were bound, hand and foot, then
afterallowing their horses to feed for an hour
longer, the outlaws made pre arations to take
the road. While they were t ins occupied, the
eyes of Mark Bird were not idle. Not only did
he register the faces of each and all of the out-
laws in his memory, but he found time to closely
scrutinize the young woman who had played so
prominent a. in their capture.

She stood caning against a tree, not far dis-
tant, and formed a picture that few eyes could
have dwelt u n without interest. But little if
an above t e medium hight of her sex, she
loo ed every inch a princess of the prairie in
her half-savage garb. Her dark and curling
hair fell to her shoulders in glossy masses. Her
eyes were large and filled With a liquid fire that
matched well her rich, clear complexion and
clear-cut features. .

A striking type of the purest brunette; all is
said in that word. Although she vet lacked
several years of being out of her ’teens, her
form, nourished by a wild, free and out-door
life, was superbl developed. Her dress was
composed in of a. plumed turban, a close-
fltting jacket of scarlet cloth, a short tunic and

ull trowsers, gathered just below the knee;
silken stockings and headed moccasins. Across
her shoulders was suspended a short rifle. A.
knife and revolvers were at her girdle.

With both prisoners Securely bound upon the
same horse, the outlaws, first assuring them-
selves that the coast was clear, rode forth from
the timber island. But are they had covered a
hundred yards, the lenders halted with a cry of
wondering alarm.

A horseman confronted them as suddenly as
though he had risen from the bowels of the
earth. Both horse and rider were black as mid—
night from head to heel. Both were of more

common size.

A hoarse, taunting laugh came to the ears of
the outlaws. The strange rider flung forward a.
long, heavy rifle, firing without any apparent
attempt to catch an aim. Yet at the reporta man
fell dead, pierced through the brain.

“ DOUBLE SIGHT, THE DEATH SHOT!” scream-
ed Martin, wildly.

CHAPTER IX.
A PAIR or LAMBS.

As Mrs. Nancy Lamb ordered her husb'ind
into the saddle, her black-snake whi cut the air
with a significant whistle that Hec r only too
well knew how to interpret, and catching up a.
loose bundle in a. coarse sack, be obeyed. Nan-
cytfilared at him stern] as she recognized his
fld 6, but said nothing. he was shrewd enough
to know that there plight be danger to her au-
thority in pushing it too far.

“Now tell me gust what
Dashin’ Ned an’ t e Broad rairie,” she com—
manded, when the narrow bottom-er valley
was left far behind them and their trail led over
the level plain.

Hector obeyed, but he was in such a state of
filiscomplogure that it will save time to condense

s repo .

For several years the counties of Guadalupe.
Comal and Hays had been the tramping-ground
of a stroan and well-organized band of horse»
thieves an highwaymen. So bold and trouble-
some had they become that Edward Conway
then sheriff of Comal, organized a company of

Rangers for the express purpose of extermina-
ting the audacious gang. But for months hm

ou beam about 3

8

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

 

 

labors were in vain, althou he had several
trusty and skillful scouts an spies out da and
night. However carefully his plans mig t be
laid, the enemy was sure to st wind of his
movements in am Is time to £01 or evade them.
Dashin Ned, as t e youn sheriff was known
far an wide, suspected t at there was some
treachery at work but was unable to detect the
traitor. As alrea recorded, he had gained in-
formation that ena led him to foil the intended
attack upon the bank at San Antonio, but his
informant could not or would not point out to
him any of the conspirators. Immediately af-
ter the event, Dashing Ned received word that
the outlaws had a. rendezvous in one of the
dense clumps of chaparral that dotted over
Broad Prairie, and at once took his men in that
direction. Though moving with all possible se—
crecy, the news at wind, and was a common
23:0 in Austin, ence Hector Lamb’s knowl-
6.

“ We must find him,” said Nancy, resolutely.
“ He’s so sweet on Minnie that he’l dro every-
thin’ else, an’ never give over until he s found
her an” paid off the Injun dog that stole her
awa .

“ won’t never be. He’s a devil. The cain’t
nobody nor nothin’ hurt him,” muttered ector
with a nervous start as a jack-rabbit leaped
from a clump of grass beneath the feet of his
mule. “Le’s turn back, Nancy! Mebbe he
won’t hurt the gal—J’

“ You say one word more 0’ that, an’ I’ll lar-
rup you till you cain’t stan’ l” cried the wo-
man, fiercely. “You call him adevil, an’ it
you’re ready to sneak swag an’ let him work '8
dirty will on the pore chil we’ve raised from a
bab like she was our own flesh an’ blood. Hec-
tor Iiamb I always knowed on was a fool but
I didn’t think you was sec a pore, 
coward afore l”

“It’s only him,” muttered the settler. “I
ain’tacoward to any one else. But when he
looks at me I kin feel the rope ’round my neck,
chokin’—-chokin’—”

"The more fool ou!” snapped Nancy. “You
hiow ’twas a lie. ey couldn’t ’a’ hurt usmuch
for what we did that ni ht. An’ we was starv-
in’. Iwish we’d’a’ de ed him then an’dared
his wu’st. But like fools we let him skeet us in-
todoin’ what he wanted. But now: s’pose he
was to sw’ar it onto us? Who’d you s’
would b’lieve him a’ter so longa time? They’d
be more likely to g him fer kee in’ still so
many years. No, old man; the time s come for
us to stick up for our own rights, an’ when I see
Dashin’ Ned, I’m goin’ to tel him the hull sto .
Ef he is in love with Minnie, he’ll see that e
an’ us two hes 'ustice.”

Without pausing for rest the two Lambsrode
on through the night, for the most in si-
lence. I is stran e, but true, that Nanc
never doubted t eir findin Dashing N ,
thou h Broad Prairie, with i numerous tim-
ber ands and dense patches of chaparrel
could easily aflord cover or a dozen regiments.

With an hour’s halt to rest the mules and al-
low them an opportunity to graze, the adven-
turers premed on without any incident of mo-
ment breaking the monotony of their ride, un-
til an hour past noon. Then, 'ust as they were
rounding a long point of unted trees and
thorn-bushes, they met a horseman, face to

face.

Hector took one hasty glance, then rolled

rather than dismounted from his mule, and with
aludicrous bellow of ab'ect terror, plunged into
the matted undergro with an impetucsi
that left only his legs and hind-quarterfinth .
And there he lay unable to crawl further in,
but so frighten that he probably was un-
aware how much he was .
Ve diflerent was the conduct of his wife,
thong1 she, too, was startled and even alarmed.
Qui yraisin the old rusty rifle that had bal-
anced acres or lap, she Vigorouslépulled the
trigger. Had she not forggten cock her
wee. u, there would have ii an empty sad-
dle fore her, beyond a doubt. As it was, this
little oversight gave her time to realize the mis-
take both she and her husband had fallen into,
to see that the strange rider was not their bit-
ter enem , thou h bearing a strong resem-
blance to 1m, at east outwardly.

“What on earth do you mean, woman?" he
cried, more in astonishment than alarm. “ Are
you mthat Iyoou try to murder me?"

“ the rd the pesky thing wouldn’t go
om” Nanc , (it!)ng the rifle and cov-
ering or face wit her , for there was a
true, womanly heart beneath that rough ex-

terror.
. “What does it all mean, anyhow?” be per-

“ We tuck you for another man,” and Nancy
re ed her wanted assurance with a powerful

e ort. “ You look more like him than he does
hissolf! Mebbe ou’re his brother?”
“I have no tether,” smiled the stran r.

alligay’l ask who it is that I resemble so won r-
“ olks call him Kernel Overton, but he’s a
Injun half-breed. He stole away our da’ter, an’
we was huntin’ him. That’s why I tried to
shoot you stranger.” .
_ “ And that is your husband, I suppose?”

 

" “I’m most ashamed to say it, but he is m
old man. You, Hector! come out 0’ that bresh! ’

There was a spasmodic movement of Hector’s
legs as though he was trying to squeeze still fur-
ther into the brush, but no other sign was given
to show that he heard the summons.

“ Hold my critter a minnit, stranger,” mut-
tered Nancy, an ominous light in her eyes.

Slipping to the ground, she flung the rope
reins to the amused stranger, and black—snake in
hand stole on tip-toe to where Hector was in
hiding. Drawing the lash through her fingers,
and measuring er distance, Nancy threw all
her skill and power into the effort. The whip
cracked like a istol, and a howl of agony that
arose from the rush told how true was her aim.
A dozen blows followed in swift succession each
one brin ' g a puff of dust from the broad buck-
skin pate which ornamented the seat of Hec-
tor’s trowsers, until, unable longer to bear the
gain, he backed out of the brush, scratched and

leerling, a doleful-looking object.

“ Mebbe you’ll know better then to mistake a
gentleman for a emery half-an’-half, next
time,” anted Nancy, forgetting her own near-
ly fa mistake.

When satisfied that the horseman was not the
dreaded Overton, Hector slunk sheepishly aside,
leaving Nancy to conduct the affair to her own
liking. This she did to admiration, for by close

uestioning she not only learned that Dashing

ed was in Broad Prairie, but received clear di-
rections as to the precise point where he would
in all probability pass the night. This anxiety
satisfied, her natural curiosity began to awake,
and her questions took a more personal turn.
The stranger, however, seemed inclined to be
reticent as to ' own aflairs, and with a brief
nod, he gave his animal free rein and rode rap-
idlly away.

t may be as well to drawavail over the next
hour or two. There are few of us who like to
read of the tortures of the damned.

The day wore on, and the pair of ill—mated
Lambs pursued their course as directed by the
stranger. It was just sunset when they came
in view of the timber island—conspicuous for
many miles around, from two dead trees which
towered hi h above the surrounding verdure—
where they ad been directed to look or Dashiiég
Ned and his men. The jaded mules were urg
on, but it was inky dark before the edge of the
timber could be reached. Dismountlng and
hitching their animals, the Lambs entered the
wood, using all caution, for enemies were far
more likely to be encountered in Broad Prairie
than friends. Through the dense foliage they
presently caught the glimmering li ht of a
camp-fire, and carefully stole fo . A few
minutes later they found themselves upon the
edge of the glade in which stood the dead trees.
A weird, impressive scene met their eyes.

From one of the dead limbs hung a ro . Be-
neath the rope was a horse and rider. he lat-
ter’s hands were bound behind his back, and the
rope was noosed around his throat. A number
of men were ouped around, with drawn pis-
tols and bar knives.

Was it murder, or was it retribution?

At that instant, one of the mules, robably
scenting the horses in the glade, up 'fted its
voice in a mighty bray. The alarm was 'ven.
With loud ones and curses the men dashe for-
ward. The Lambs shrunk back, as a blinding
flash filled their eyes and a rifle exploded almos
in their faces!

 

CHAPTER X.
Boson LAW.

Wrrnma certain portion of Broad Prairie a
curious drama is being enacted. Near the cen-
ter of a circle the diameter of which is nearly
two-score ‘ es, is a le horseman. The

und is level and even as e top of a billiard-
hle. Note. bush nor a tree breaks the dull
monoton of the tall, sun-burned grass that la~
zil und tes before the gentle morning breeze.

ar ofl—appearing at the very horizon is a
faint, low line of something dark. In which-
ever direction the rider’s eyes may turn, this
artificial horizon meets the sky-line. The round
prairie is inclosed upon eve side by a dense,
almost impenetrable girdle o cha rel.

The horseman seems uneagga e rises in his
stirrups and gazes long and dily behind him.
His brow lowers and a dee , bitter curse hisses
through his tightly-elem ed teeth. But the
wild ook deepens in his eyes, and a grayish
shade creeps over his bronzed face.

Nearly a mile distant a tall man sits upon a
dark horse, motionless as a statue. Only one
man, yet the horseman in the center of the rai-
rie regards him with steadily increasing
—almost horror. Since early dawn that black
shadow has hungnijispon his track, following and
even imitatin ' every motion; advancing,
reheating, an halting. What can it mean?

“ I’ll find out—man or devil, I won’t stan’ this
no longer!” mutters the horseman, and he care-
full examines his pistols to make sure that they
w' not fail him in case of need.

With stern resolve he rides toward the mys-
terious being who has so ersistently shadowed
him. As though moved y the same im ulse,
the object of his wondering dread whee s his

 

animal and rides away. The filursuer urges his
horse onward at top speed e fugitive darts
ahead, just maintaining his distance, no more,
no less. The pursuer draws rein, abruptly
checking his horse. The fugitive does the
same, at the same instant' yet his face is turned
to the front and awai from the other rider.
The first horseman w eels abruptly and re-
sumes his original course. He glances over his
shoulder, and the ay shade ows more
ghastl . The black orse and ri or are once
more oggin him!

At this, abgect terror seems to ove wer the
man’s iron nerves. He urges his stee on with
voice and spur, endeavoring to run away from
the haunting shadow. But in vain. As though
connected by some subtle yet irresistible bond,
the relative distance between himself and the
black rider is steadily maintained. .

The haunted man has one hope remaining.
He will seek refuge among the trees. Once un-
der cover of the Chaparral, he will force the
matter to a conclusion.

Strai ht on he rides until the timber ahead
grows c ear and distinct. He glances back. The
shadow is still upon his track, no nearer, no fur-
ther than before.

“Good! no horse that was ever foaled kin
ketch me now, afore I kin make the timber,” he
mutters; but ends with a low, gasping cry as he
draws rein with such force that the haunches of
his horse touch the ground.

A second horseman, the counterpart of the
first, now confronts him. His danger is doubled.
The actions of the two riders are identical. They
are acting in concert.

The hunted man is losing his head. He turns
to the left and urges his panting animal for-
ward. A swift, double glance tells him the
sickening truth. The two strange riders are
dashing along in a line with him. And more.
He can see that they are slowly, surely edging
toward himl

He lashes his horse. A mad superstition is
turning his brain. The manifold crimes of his
checkered life are rising before him. He sees a
ghastl , menacing spirit, enwrapped in a blood
shrou , threatenin him with its fleshles han
And behind it anot er—and another!

The phantoms fade awa ; yet there is a hu-
man shape before him. e is confronted by a
third horseman.

He wrenches in his steed. The over-ridden
animal sta gers and falls. The haunted man
staggers to ' feet. He draws a istol; but a
blo y film obscures his vision. e brushes a
hand across his e es—then, reeling, he falls.

And the three orsemen gallop up to his side.

“ You stand before us, James Brown, charged
with murder, with being a traitor and a spy.
You shall have a fair trial. If you can refute

 

these charges, on shall 0 free and unharmed.
If not—by the eavensa ve us! you shall die
the death of a dog!”

Dashing Ned confronted the prisoner with a
stern frown. The crackling fire cast a lurid
glare over the impressive scene. Two-score men
were uped around the two blasted trees that
stood in the center of the little (glade.

“ The charge is a lie,” respon ed the prisoner
in a husk voice as he maistened his driy and
cracked ps wit his tongue. “These ellers
hate me. They’d sw’ar to an hing so they
could ut me out o’ the way. on ham’t got no

right try me. Ef on think I’ve done any‘
thm’ as deserves it e me to town an’ ‘ve me
a chance fer my life. Don’t murder me ’

“You entered our league with a perfect un.
derstanding of our rules and re ations. You
solemly swore to abide by our aws. You are
charged with treachery. You are said to have
'oined us in order to betray our plans to 

ph and his band of cha ral wolves. e
know that some one been playing the
traitor. You were suspected, watc ed, and
caught in the act. You were seen to meet seven
men last night. A portion of your words were
overheard; enough to convict you. In return
you received orders to report at the ‘ u er sta.-
ticm.’ Your every step was dogged r that.
To make sure, those watching you bided their
time. You rode away from our camp, no doubt
to carry out your orders. You were followed,

and by playing upon your su rstitious fears
you were driven into a trafi. on were captured
and brought here for You sh have

every chance to defend yourself. Six of these
men will actas a jury. You can select them
yourself, or we Will draw lots. Take your
choice.”

“You an’ them both have made up your
minds to murder me,” was the sullen ugly.
“ You’re forty to one. It’d be a fool job to g t
ag’inst sech odds. You km work your own way.
I won’t help twist the rope fer m own neck.”

Without re lying, Dashing ed tore a leaf
from his note- k, and cutting it into as many
strips as there were men in his command, num-
bered the bits from one up. These he placed in
his hat and shook them well together. Then
standing in front of the prisoner, that he might
see everythin was conducted fairly, he said:

“Form in ine, men, and advance one at a
time. Those who draw the six lowest numbers
will serve as the Jury. They will listen cam-

 

death of her follower.

 

fully to the evidence, and decide whether the
accused is guilty or innocent.”

The drawing was carried out, and the six men
took the position pointed out by their chief.
The first witness was called, and gave in his
evidence. When he was through, Dashing Ned
sun. :

“ Ask him what questions you like, prisoner.
He is bound to answer them all, and swear to
his truth in replying."

But Brown remained silent. He had evidently
made up his mind to bear the worst, and would
not protract the torture by vain stru les. He
had played a bold game—played it we ; he had
lost, and he knew that he must pay the forfeit
of his failure.

The array of proof was indeed fearfully strong
and convincing. From the first the risoner
had played a double role. Throu h 's cun-
ning and cool courage Equality Eph ad gained
the knowledge that enabled him to so long and
successfully elude the search and foil the care-
full laid plans of the Rangers.

T '3 alone would have been sufficient to doom
the prisoner to death under the stringent rules
which governed the Rangers, but there was
more to come.-

One of the men who had been set to watch
Brown had suddenly disappeared. After a long
search he was found wounded to death. He
lived long enough to char e Brown with his
murder. Discovering himse f followed, Brown
had ambuscaded the scout, shot and then stabbed
him, leavmg him for dead. Then he hastened
to keep his appointment with the outlaws where
he was followed, overheard and finally cap-
tured.

“ You have heard the evidence, gentlemen of
the Jury,” cried Dashing Ned, coldly, after
Brown had stubbornly refused to cross-examine
the last witness. “It remains with you to de-
cide whether the prisoner be innocent or guilty.”

Without a moment’s hesitation the Six men
arose and in one breath announced their ver-
dict. Guilty.

“James Brown," said Dashing Ned, solemnly,
“you have heard the verdict. Have you 31:3-
thing to say why the sentence of death sho d
not be pronounced upon on?”

“What use? you’re ound to murder me
anyhow. Go on with your rat-killin’!” snarled
the doomed man.

“You are sentenced to be hung, then. Fix
the rope, boys." V

A couple of lessees were knotted together and
one en flun over a stout branch. A noose
was made in e other end, while a horse was
brpgfht beneath the rope. The risoner was
lif into the saddle, his arms still und. The
noose was placed around his neck. The rope
was drawn taut and the loose and securely tied
around the trunk of the tree. This done, at a
motion from Dashing Ned, the men drew aside.

“James Brown, you are granted two minutes
in which to say your prayers. At the end of
that time you die.”

Watch in hand Dashing Ned audibl counted
the seconds. Only this sound broke 6 other-
wise impressive silence, until—the voice of a
mule was heard, braying lustiliyér

And a death-shot was disc ged from the

darkness.

CHAPTER XI.
WOLVES or run CHAPABRAL.

.As their comrade fell before that unerring
rifle; as Martin uttered that fear-inspiring
name; as they beheld the man or demon con-
cerning whom so many wild and thrilling tales
were told, the outlaws shrunk back as from the
plague, and some among their number seemed
about to seek safety in headlong flight.

With _a crypt mortified rage the young wo-
man, Missouri Belle, spurred er pony forward,
her e as flashing fire.

“' wenty men cowed by a single man—and
he with the life-blood of your comrade stainin
his hand! Go! hide your heads, on pitifu
cowards! I will avenge poor Conrsx e myself!”

Straight toward the black rider the excited
girl rode, and as the spotted pony carried her
Within pistol range, she drew a revolver and
fired shot after shot in swift succession.

Mark Bird, bound and disarmed though he
was, ur .d forward the horse which he bestrode
behind slcousm, not thinking of the danger he
was courting, only seeing the fair young girl
rushing to such an unequal encounter, deserted
2y those whose duty it was to guard and defend

er.

The black rider remained motionless, his eyes
riveted u n the form of Missouri Beue as she
charged own upon him, a lorious vision.
tionless until the leaden bul ets began whistlin
viciously around him, and it seemed as thong
the fair road-agent was fated to avenge the
But then, without a
word or gesture, the Death Shot wheeled his
horse. and sped away over the level plain.

This seemed to. restore in ad the usual
courage of the outlaws, and With in at their
head(i they put their animals to speed and thun-

dere along the triple trail. .
Belle urged her pony on With voice and ur,
but all her efforts were in vain. The sek

horse forged ahead until its rider was beyond stones, among whic

 

Mo-‘

 

V Equality 

vantage without seeming effort, though the
spotted mustang was straining every nerve to

4, its utmost tension.

For over a mile the chase swept on. Martin
and his comrades had overtaken the doubly-
burdencd horse ridden by the cousins. Missouri
Belle, at length satisfied that it was beyond the
powers of her pony to overtake the black rider,
relaxed her exertions and rejoined the outlaws.

“ Is there no horse here that can come u with
that demon? I will give one hundred do] are to
the man that takes him, dead or alive!”

“As well chase the wind!” muttered Martin,
sullenly. “That is no mortal man and horse.
A bullet flattens against his breast and a knife
shivers like a bit of glass. He is a demon—he
and his horse! He is just playing with us. Or
trying to lead us into some trap or pitfall. I
will face flesh and blood long as any man, but
I’ll not fight against spirits.”

“ And on are the one my father has chosen
to succee him—a coward, doubly dyed!” flashed
Missouri-Belle. “ Not a word! the siglht of your
craven face is enough, without the i e buzzing
of your tongue. Forward, men! Remember
poor Conrade l”

A wild cheer greeted this fiery speech, and
the chase swept on through the high grass with
redoubled vigor and determination. Not the
least interested were the cousins. Eagerly they
watched the fugitive. Though the outlaws
were ur ‘ng their horses on With bloody spur,
the blac steed was holding his own, and was
simpvlé/ pacing. .

“ hat did I sayil’suddenly cried Martin.
“Is that a mortal horse i”

The Death Shot turned in his saddle and
waved one hand in mocking defiance. The
black horsefihot forward like an arrow fresh
from the bow, running low, smooth and with
marvelous swiftness, eaving the outlaws so
rapidly that by contrast their animals appeared
to be creeping.

On like a swallow the black horse sped' and
then vanished as though the earth had suddenly
opened and swallowed him up!

Uneasy glances passed between the outlaws.
Superstitions as most evil beings are, bronzed
faces grew pale and voiCes trembled. Even
Missouri Belle did not entirely escape, but her
voice was steady and determined:

“ There is some trick in this. I am going to
solve the mystery. Those who are afraid can
await my return.”

“Look yonder!” and a gra -bearded outlaw

pointed straight ahead far yond‘ the int
where the Death Shot had so suddenly 'sa
peared. “ Horsemen, and coming this way. t

wthe ran rs!”

' uri Bela drew rein and producing a
small but powerful field-glass from her poc et,
carefully scanned the istant gro 

“They are Indians, she said, ally, restor-
ing the glass. “I cannot make out their num-
ber, but it is not greater than our own. ”

“You called me a craven, Miss Arkwri ht,”
cried Martin. “I will show you how well de—
serve the name. They, at least, are flesh and
blood. I followed before now I will lead !”

Side by side he and Missouri Belle raced,
closely followed by the others who, now that
they were about to deal with an enemy whom
they could understand, seemed to forget their
fears and superstitions.

“A nice fix we’re in to be fighting Indiansl”
said Mark to Kirke, in a tone of utter disgust.
“(Dran’t you manage to pull the cursed brute
up

“No. We can roll of! if things get toobadly
mixed up. Betterabroken neck 1: an be spit~
teg‘gn pngpf those lances.” t1 thi 1 th

e nians were apparen yno ng o ,
and the two ies swi tl neared each other
until, when ess than_ hat a mile separated
them, the old robber cried out:

“ Thely’re Lipans—I can see old Grizzly Paw!”
The ndians appeared to make a somewhat
similar discovery at nearly the same instant,
for coming to a halt, one of their number rais-
ed his buffalo-robe hilgh in the air, as a signal of
peace. Missouri Be e_and Martin also drew
rein, but from a very different cause. At their
feet lay a narrow but deep crevasse or barren-

u

a.
“ Look! ’ and the girl’s voice rung with scorn

as she inted to the bottom of the ravine,
where e sand 5011 was deeply scored with
hoof-prints. “ ere is your mystery—there is
where our phantom horse lea ed downl A
Eei'glgu tantial trail for a spirit to leave be-
in

Raising her voice she hailed the Lipan chief

* and as he approached, she gave a brief detail 0

 

what had occurred.

“Let half a dozen of our braves 'oin as
many of my men and fo low the tra'. The
rest will ride along the edge. Ca ture the as-
sassin alive, if possible; but den or alive he
must not escape. ’ ‘ _

This plan was quickly carried out. The trail
was followed down the barranca. which deep—
ened and grew wider as the men advanced.
The nature of the bottom altered, as well, row-
ing hard and flinty covered with grav and

h the trail was soon lost.

9

pistol range, then steadily maintained its ad- l Nor could the closest search discover any fur-

, ther trace of the mysterious rider or his orse.
Grizzly Paw himself descended and sought long
and c osely, only to confess himself baffled at
length.

Martin smiled grimly as Missouri Belle gave
the word to retrace their steps, but he said
nothing; and he was wise. The fair road-agent
was not in the most propitious humor.

Passing around the head of the ban-mica, the
united forces rode on their way. Martin and
Grizzly Paw, riding a. little apart, wore convers-
ing eagerly, and when they came abreast of a
small timber motlc, the young outlaw accompa-
nied the Li ans to their encampment.

Half an our later he overtook the party, and
riding beside Missouri Belle, he made some com-
munication that appeared to excite her not a
little. Mark Bird, ever on the alert, caught
something about a captive—“ a girl —a compan-
ion for you—along soon.” He listened eagerly,
but Could hear nothing further than these dis-
jointed words.

The sun had disappeared nearly an hour when
the party left the prairie and entered a dense
Chaparral, following a narrow, winding trail, in
single file, for what seemed to the weary cap-
tives an interminable distance. Finally they
emerged into a spacious clearing or glade, thick-
ly dotted with little patches of trees and shrub-
bery. Near the center of this opening several
small fires gleamed brightly, and b their re s
the prisoneis could make out a num r of sm 1,
rude brush huts.

Martin grasped the bridle of the horse they
rode, and led him through the cluster of huts,
pausing before a building considerably larger
and neuter than the rest. Leaving them for a
moment he entered the door, then returned and
cutting the thongs at their ankles, bade them
dismount and follow him. With some difiiculty
they obeyed, and entering the building, found
themselves in a square, fairly illuminated room.

A tall, stout—built man lay upon a ile of robes
and blankets. At a nod from him, artin held
the rude oil-lamp down to the faces of first one
and then the other of the cousins.

“That will do,” growled the invalid, with a
curse. “You have made no mistake. But to
make sure—your names?”

Realizing the utter folly of obstinacy, the
cousins replied.

“Good enough! You came to Texas in an-
swer to a letter from one David Woodson'l”

“ You will excuse our answering that ques-
tion until we are better convinced of your right
to ask it,’? coldly replied Kirke.

“The right of might, young man.
in m wer—I can do with on as I will. One
wor rom my lips will con emn you to death
or give you life. If on are wise you will re-
member this. Bnt I on’t mind answerin you.
I am David Woodson. There! I am no well
enough to say more. Martin, put them in the
cage, and leave their hands bound. Set a clam
guard over them. Go, now!”

CHAPTER XII.
WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

THE instructions of the outlaw chief were
prompt] and thoroiighly carried out by Mar-
tin and lie fellows. ie two prisoners Were led
through the little collection of huts and thrust
into an oblong structure of logs. The door was
closed and barred upon them, and as they
stood in the utter darkness, the cousins could
distinctly hear Martin giving the man placed
upon ard his orders.

“ low no one to approach the jug without
the pass-word, and if either of the prisoners at-
tempts to esca e, shoot him down—and don’t
waste your bul et, either!" .

“Prime comfort, that I” uttered Mark, With a
faint laugh. “Seems to me We’re seeing the
elephant in sober earnest, Kii'ke. I don’t want
you to think I am weakening, but I’d give all
my old boots for just one glimpse of the old
home and folks about this time. But honestly,
I believe we’ve been on a wild-goose chase from
the first.”

“ Not altogether ” replied Howard, eardestly.
“He ma be dead, but he did not die on that
ni ht. member what we found in the grave.

9 know that his teeth were double all around
in front aswell as on the side; the skull We found
was not thus furnished.”

“Well, I h0pe you’re right. But about this
fellow; do you believe he is the Dav1d Wood-
son who wrote that letter?”

“ He may have written the letters, but I am
pretty well convinced that the real David Wood-
son is dead and buried. Five different men
told me the same story about his accident and
the manner in which his skull was mended; and
I proved the truth of their statement. As for
this man—this ca tain of outlaws—1 do not
know what to thin . He puzzles me.” ‘

“Don’t try to think, then. Take it easy. hke
me. The solution will come soon enough.
only wish I could be as sure about my trouble.
Where have I met that little spitflrp on the
painted mustafl Somewhere, some tune, I am
almost sure. 1: face and figure are a com-
bination one could not easily forget. And yet,
I can’t place her, to save me 1”

“Do you know what I have been thinking?"

You are

 

 

10

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

slowly responded Howard. “ I believe this girl
is the woman you met that evening at the Gold-
on Harvest. I watched her closely, that night,
and I do not believe I can ho mistaken. ”

Mark was completely taken by surprise, but
gradually the truth seemed to dawn upon his
mind, and ore long he felt morally certain that
the pink domino and the girl road—agent were
indeed one and the same person.

\ For nearly an hour longer the cousins crouch-
ed down together in one corner of the s uare
room, discussing their peculiar situation. win
their first setting foot upon Texan soil, an at-
mosphere of peculiar mystery had seemed to
envelop them. Their search had been one con-
stant succession of surprises, and though they
had learned much that was new and startlin
to them, they seemed no nearer the desired end
than at first, before the letter of David VVoodson
fell among them like a bomb-shell and scatter-
ed its marvelous tidings through the family
ranks. .

“Hist!” softly muttered Mark, nudging his
cousin.

Somewhere from out the darkness came the
low, subdued sound of sobbing. With hi hten—
ed curiosity the cousins listened, and fin lo—
cating the sound, or rather the direction rom
whence it fproceeded, they noiselessly stole
along the si e of the room and paused at the
southern end.

The sobbing grew fainter, then died away.
A few moments later a low, troubled voice was
heard raised in rayer. The cousins listened
with bated breat . They knew now that they
were listening to a woman or girl. She was
pra 'ng for help from on High to strengthen her
in t 6 trial to come, for protection against some
dreaded persecutor. There were no names men-
tioned, no clew given by which the cousins could
guess her story or condition, other than that sh
was a on, tive like themselves. '

“But ’m going to find out,” muttered Mark,
as the gentle voice died away. “These 10
don’t touch; I can pull out some of the chinié
ingi I guess.”

oward made no reply. Of a far less mer-
curial disposition than Mark, he had a heart
only for the one sacred duty to which he had so
solemnly dedicated his life. At least, so he be-
lieved, then. The day was not far distant when
his eyes were to be opened.

Pressing his back close to the wall, Mark
found that he could work his fingers quite
adroitly, and with dogged persistence he dug
at the hard clay “daubing” until he succeeded
in loosening several small bits. Reusing for
rest, he turned around, and was greatl sur-
prised to see that his work was done! A s ender
ray of light was streaming through the a r-
ture, and stooping, Mark peered through. he
next instant he started back with a low excla-
mation of wonder. At this, Kirke Howard
came forward. Though no sound esca his
lips his surprise was no less great than ark’s.

e Was
of the one o occupied, save that a rude lamp of
oil was suspended from the ceiling. At the fur-
ther end of the room a oung woman was
kneeling, her hands cla e! , her face white as
death, a. wild, afi‘righ look in her dilated
eyes. She seemed to be looking him full in the
eyes and Howard drew back with an instinct-
ive delicacy thou h reason told him that he was
invisible to her. ut in that brief glance he re-
cognized the young woman to whom he had been
introduced on the day of the feast at San An-
tonio—Minnie Lamb!

Before he could take a second look. Mark
crowded him aside and lacing his lips to the
aperture, uttered the gir ’3 name.

There was no reply. Minnie had heard the
cautious scratching, gnawing sound at the wall,
and locating the sound, she had can ht a glimpse
of a human hand as the mud chi ing was re-
moved. She knew that she was in the power of
lawless, crime-hardened men; what more natu-
ral than that she should suspect some evil deed
was impending? A sickening terror held her

3 ess.

ark took another look, and readily divined
the cause of her silence. He spoke again, loud—
er and clearer:

“We are friends, Miss Minnie. You remem-
ber, we took lunch with on at San'Antonio;
Kirke Howard and Mark ird. I just wanted
to know if there was anything We could do—”

“Take me away from here—for the love of
God! gentlemen, take me back home l” sobbed
the 'r], raising her clasped hands.

“ f we onl could! But we are prisoners,
tied u like ogs!” groaned Mark. “You do
the ing, Kirke; I can’t stand that!”

“ Mark says true, Miss Lamb. We are ris-
oners and utterl unable to aid you, dear yes
we would like. ut surely you are in no such
danger. Lawless as these men are, they could
not wantonl injure you.”

“You litt e know the monster who sent me
here, or the man who keeps me captive,” re-
sponded Minnie, choln'ng down her emotion
with an effort. “I am threatened with worse
than death unless I can escape—”

At this moment the doors of both rooms were
flun violentl open, and before the cousins
ooul rise to air feet, they were seized, drag-

eering into a room the counterpart ‘

 

ged across the room and there flung u on their
backs. A rude gag was thrust into t e mouth
of each; then a stout, raw-hide rope was placed
across their throats, both ends bein secured to
stout stakes in the earthen floor. nether rope
held their lower limbs in like durance.

All this was done without a word being spoken.

by the outlaws, and, after holding his lantern
c ose to the fastenings and testing them, Martin
motioned his men away and followed them
from the room, closing and securing the door as
before.

The cousins had plenty of time in which to
curse their imprudence, for there was little
room for doubtin the cause of this harsh treat-
ment. The sentries must have overheard them
communicating with the girl ca tive, and, re-
porting the fact, the outlaws too this method
of reventing a repetition of the offense.

y twisting his head as far the re would
rmit, Mark could tell that the light ad van—
ished from the adjoining room or else the chink
had been thoroughly stoppe up once more.
There was no sound from that direction. Noth-
ing could be heard but the faint, shuffling tread
of the guard as he slowly paced to and fro be-
fore the door.

Despite their confined and painful position
and natural anxiety as to what the morrow
might bring forth, fatigue caused the prisoners
to rop asleep, finallfi

How longlhe slept ark Bird never knew; but
all at once e found himself awake, with every
nerve upon the alert, and a profuse perspiration
springing from ever pore.

The rope across ‘5 throat seemed to have
grown shorter, for he could not move his head
an inch. The darkness was as intense as ever,
but his ears did double service instead.

He heard the heavy puncheon door slowly
and cautiously swing open, and he knew that
some person was standing upon the threshold,
peering toward the spot where he lay. It seem-
ed as though the form and features were dis—
tinctly visible before his straining eyeballs. The
figure of Martin, the outlaw; that dark, hand-
some face, looking even more than customarily
like the prince of evil, as he clutched a long,
gleaming knife to his breast.

He felt, rather than heard, the midni ht in-
terloper draw nearer foot by foot. ore, he
coul now distinguish two footfalls. They drew
closer finallgr pausing close beside the slumber-
ing Howar . A brief pause. Then a faint,
scufliing sound. A sharp knee struck against
his ribs. He knew that a man was kneeling
u on HoWard’s breast! He strove to cr aloud.

e exerted his utmost strength in a vain effort
to burst his bonds and free himself to aid his
loved cousin. He strained until it seemed as
though his brain would burst. But all in vain.
Martin had done his work too thoroughly. And
Mark, weak as an infant from his deadly strug-
gle, his brain reeling lay half senseless.

'lhe nocturnal visitbr passed over the body of
Howard and settled down u n that of his cou-
sin. One hand clutched ark’s throat with a
sufli'ocating pressure. The other hand fumbled
at his breast, tearing open his clothes. And
then—Mark knew no more for hours. When he
awoke to consciousness, da. light was sifting in
through the bark roof. e listened; but no
sound of breath came from the lungs of Kirke
Howard.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
A PECU'LIAR BARGAIN.

11' will be remembered that Colonel Overton
was left in a recarious situation, some chapters
back. His p unge into the water was so sudden
and unexpected that the shock confused him not
a little. Instinctiver he struck out for the
fallen tree the instant his head rose above the
surface, nor, though the current was swift and
powerful, did he s rience much difficulty in
regaining the par-ti ly-submerged log. But he
had driven the young woman to desperation,
and shifting her grasp u on the fishmg—fizlfi,
Minnie Lamb discharge a blow at the —
breed’s head, throwing all her strength into the
effort. Without a sound, Overton relaxed his
grasp and sunk beneath the surface, knocked
senseless. Fortunately for him there was aid
close at hand, else his wild career would have
ended then and there; and border history
would have lost one of its wildest, most thrilling
pa es. But of that hereafter.

e brawny savage secured Minnie as she
leaped to shore, holding her helpless, one broad
palm preming upon her lips and checkin the
shriek she strove to utter, while a secon and
third promptly fining into the water to rescue
their leader. eir efforts Were successful,
though it was several minutes after he was
dragged ashore ere Overton recovered his con—
sciousness. Then he burst into a storm of ours-
ingso furious that the red-men shrunk back
fairly appalled, used as they were to wild and
tempestuous scenes.

In the midst of his b hemy, Colonel Over-
ton caught sight of the 6 face of the captive
maiden, and a marvelously sudden change came
over him. traces of anger vanished and his
voice was low and even as he erase

Minnie Lamb:

. ...,.-y~u.~.- cum» wqu w -'

 

“I am overjoyed to find that on have con-
cluded not to desert us entirely, ear Minnie. I
can’t say that I a preciate your style of saying
good-by, though, and his white, ointed teeth
glistened wolnshly as he tender y rubbed the
rapidly—swelling lump upon his forehead. “ You
are too enthusiastic by alf.”

“I wish that pole had been a fence-rail and
my .arm as strong as my heart was willing!" re-
torted Minnie, his evil glance rousing a. spirit of
resistance in her breast.

“ If wishes were horses! but they are not—
unfortunately for you,” laughed Overton, as he
turned aside and faced a tal , finely-formed In-
dian who had taken no part in the recent events,
standing coldly aloof. ‘ I have kept you wait-
ing longer than I intended, chief,” he said,
speaking rapidly. “I hoped to induce the
squaw to go with you uietly, but it don’t mat—
331;,th now. You now what you are to

0:

“Git heap whisky—you bet!” grunted the
savage, and a swift glitter in his eyes told how
dear to his heart was the white man’s fire-
water.

“ Exactly—after you hand this squaw safe]
over to the Wolf of the Cha arral. You will
take her there; give the W0 if this talking pa-
per; and then drink yourself blind drunk as soon
as you please. But remember; no s new, no
fire-water. If you lose her you can w istle for
your pay.”

“Den Turn-over he whis’le foflhe scalp. No
sqnaw—no fire-water—no scalp. Dat make um
even.”

“My hands can guard my scalp, Grizzl Paw.
When black blood runs between us, chie , there
will be black faces in the lodges of the Li ans.
I am asking no favor of you. I hire you do
me a servrce, and I agree to pay your own
price. If you are not satisfied, say so. You
can go your wa and I will go mine. Is that
plain enough t l”

“Me take Squaw to Wolf, git whisky—den me
talk,” the Lipan chief responded, with a half-
concealed menace in his vorce.

Overton cared little for that. He carried his
life in his hand, and had for many a ear. One
enemy more or less gave him sm l concern.
His present engagement faithfully carried out,
Grizzly Paw might go hang.

“ One word with you, my dear ” Overton said
to Minnie. “ You are angry with me just now,
nor do I blame you. But one of these days you
will understand me better. Meanwhile you are
as safe as though you were still a baby and in
your mother’s arms. These red entlemen will
treat you respectfully, and sow‘ the person to
whom they are about to conduct you. I will
see you again in a day or so, and then explain
all t at may appear s range to on just at pro.
sent. Keep a good heart, and lieve that all
will be well. d-by, now, for the present.
Skin out, chief. The sooner you perform your
task the sooner you will corral that whisky l”

Without a word Grizzly Paw strode away to .
the spot where his horses and main force of
warriors were stationed, and mountin Minnie
upon a led horse, the Lipans rode swif y away.

Overton watched them until they were lost to
sight, then mounted his own horse, rode back
past the deserted cabin, crossed the river at the

0rd and givin his animal a touch of the spur,
galloped swift y up the narrow, winding val-

e .

ll'he sun was half-way down the western sky
when Colonel Overton entered the rude collec-
tion of buildings known as San Marcos. His
plans seemed well settled for he drew rein be-
fore a long, low adobe building, resigning his
fided horse to the mercies of a dirty, ragged

exican boy, then entered the hotel—for such
the building was, as evidenced by the effigy of
a starin , sun-cracked saint above the narrow

door. 9 was met by a short fat, smoked-
bacon-hued landlord, who bow and scraped
with disgusting sycophancy.

“Drop that, uan Tierra,” said Overton,

sharply. “You have two travelers here—Amer-
icans, man and wife?”

The landlord bowed, silent] .

“ They are old- call themse ves Marvin?”

Again a. silent ow.

“ Good enough! go tell them—stay! Show
them into the most private room you have then
come and take me to them. But mind, nan-
ot—the—broken-knifel my business with those peo-

le is private. If any of your spies come sneak-
mg around to eavesdrop, I’ll pin their ears to
the wall, and tell those at Galveston where they
can find the rest of that broken blade. You un—
derstand i”

The landlord cast an anxious glance around
and bowed again. He could not speak; his limbs
trembled violently as he staggered from the
room.

Smiling grimly Colonel Overton waited. The
landlord returned and shOWed his unwelcome
visitor into a small. apartment at the rear of the
building, where two persons, strangely a. 'tated,
rose to receive him. Nodding shortly, verton
first assured himself that no person was lurkin
within earshot, then removed his hat and f
the couple. A single glance told him that the
worsened in his own hands. Mr. Marvin and

' We were old, and seemed very feeble. They

w-wwm-w

Equality 

m 1.1

 

 

were trembling with poorly-hidden agitation
and anxiety.

“ You came in answer to my letter, I su -
pose?" be an Overton. “You brought it Wi
you as I irected?”

“Yes, sir; here it is,” responded Mr. Marvin,
handing an open envelope to Overton, who
glanced over the contents, then slipped it into

is brcast—pockct. '

“That proves your identity sufficiently for
me. Now, listen. Between fifteen and sixteen
years ago on lost a child—a little girl. At that
time you ived in Missouri. Your house took
fire in the night and was burned to the ground.
Only for two belated-travelers who noticed the
glare who burst in the door and dragged you
two, besides three servants, out of the flames,
you would have burned to death. You were
nearly suffocated, as it was. Before an of you
recovered sufliciently to speak, the buil 'ng was
in ruins. You called for your child—an only
daughter three years old. NO‘ one could tell
you anything of its fate. And everybody, in-
cluding yourself, believed the child perished in
the flames.”

“ But she escaped— ou wrote that she was
if: clivmg!” gasped t e mother, terribly agi-

e .

“ And I wrote the truth. As proof—see!” and
he produced the locket which he had stolen from
the Lamb cabin. “This trinket was around the
child’s neck that night. The child that were it
is still living. I alone know who and where she
is. And I am the only person living who can
restore her to your arms.”

“ You will! you cannot be so hard-hearted as
to torture a mother’s heart—”

“I will—provided,” coldly responded Over-
ton.. “I have spent years and much money in
solvmg the mystery. The first clew came to me
strangely, years a o. In a fight with Kiowas I
carried a wounds man to safety on my back.
But he was too badly injured to recover. Before
he died he gave me that locket and told me a
story. He confessed that he stabbed a rich far-
mer, stole his child, and then fired the house,
intending to give the alarm at the last moment.
His object was to extort a largle sum from you
as ransom; but that same nig t, while slee ing
in the woods, the child was stolen from im.
He fancied he struck a clew to the thief, and fol-
lowed it for over a month. When he returned,
intending to tell you that the child was living,
you had left the State; no one could tell him
where you had gone. He did not tell me your
name, or he died very suddenly; but I was in-
terested in the matter, and Fivm its good deal
of my time, I struck oil at ast. know where
your daughter is, and. I will deliver her to you,
when you pay me the sum I ask.”

“Here is one-half down,” and Mr. Marvin
drew a bulky pocket-book from his bosom. “ I
will give ou the other, five thousand dollars
when our c ild is restored to our arms. ”

“ Good enough! I will not stop to count this
at resent. If it is all right, you shall meet your
chi d. If wrong—”

“ I pledge you in honor~”

“I am convince , sir; you have too much at
stake to think of playing me false. Now, listen.
You wfll start from here on the day after to-
morrow, at noon. There will be a guide call for
you. If you fear double-dealing, you can take
as many guards along as Iyou please. This guide
will lead you to your c ild. I will meet you
With her. If you are satisfied, we will exchan e
; ou taking the girl and I the money. If
not—if hereis'an mistake—I will return this
sum, and try my uck in some other quarter.
Only—be sure and bring the money with you, for
I am bound for San Francisco. And now—fare-
well until the day after to-morrow !”

CHAPTER XIV.
A WIFE FOR A LIFE.
Bowmo low Colonel Overton left the room
and re-entered the bar-room. The landlord met
him, clinging and fawning like a whipped pup-

 

py-

“I want a. room where I‘ will be by myself.
Send me something to eat, and a bottle of your
best brandy. See that my horse is well fed,
watered and rubbed down. Lively, now I”

The Mexman feared the half-breed too much
to think of resenting his peremptory address,
and cut no time to waste. ten minutes Overton
was seated at a small table which was Well pro—
vided with food and liquor. First making sure
that the door was secured and that no one was
lurking around the one window of the room, he
drew a chair up to the table and taking the
pocket-ka from his breast opened it, extract-
ed its contents and rapid] ran them over. The
task was not a long one or the bills Were all of
large denomination and he found that Mr. Mar-
vin had kept good faith in the amount.

“ So far so good!” he muttered, as he returned
the money to his breast. “ If the chief does
not fail me! Little danger of that, though.
His own d is too nearly concerned. Let him
do his work well, and I’ll have a good stake to
start my new life with. ”

With a low, exultant laugh and a glitterin
devil in his snaky eyes, the I elf-breed ate an
drank heartily, httle suspecting what eyes were
watching him—had been watching him from

 

 

the moment when he first seated himself at the
table to count over his money.

Half an hour later he left the house and
mounted his horse, tossing a bit of silver to the
ragged, disre utable fellow who held his ani-
mal’s head. his man picked up the coin with
apeculiar chuckle. And then he glided down
the street, keeping his eyes fixed upon the tall
half—breed.

Straight through -the . town rode Overton,
striking into a road that led due north, trotting
leisure fialong as though in no ways pressed for
time. is brain was busy, and e paid little
attention to his surroundings. He was revol-
ving the details of an intricate, diabolical plot
that could only have found birth in the brain of
one utterly devoid of all conscience, honor or
humanity. What this scheme was, the sequel
will show.

The sun sunk from view. The gray twili ht
settled over the prairie. Colonel Ove on
roused himself withalow grating laugh. He
believed that he had rovi ed for every contin-

ency, and impresse each detail upon his mind.

ising in ' stirrups be cast a quick, sweep-
ing glance around him. A hissing curse passed
his li s as he wrenched his ani around and
face the back—trail. His eyes opened wider,
and he brushed one hand across them as though
to clear his vision.

“Gone! and I could have sworn that some one
was do ging me! I saw him plain as day. Has
he ’hid en? I don’t see any cover, but it may
be. ’

Overton drew a revolver and assured himself
that the cylinder worked freely, .and that the
caps were well down upon their mpples. Hold-
ing the weapon ready or instant use he gave
his horse free rein and trotted swiftly along up-
on his own trail, his eyes roving keenly close y
scrutinizing every foot of the ound. He rode
beyond the spot where he ha seen, or fancied
he saw. the spy, then rapidly quartered the
ground in every direction, though the prairie
grass did not seem high enough to cover a dog,
much less a man.

“ It must 'have been fancy,” Overton muttered
at length, drawin rein for a last careful lance
aroun him. “ here is no one here. must
have sighted him if he had tried to run away.
And yet—I could have sworn that a man was
followin me, afoot. I don’t know what to think
of it. ree times, now, have I been tricked in
this same way. Is some one dogging me, or—
cam it be that I am haunted?” '

As these words dropped from his lips Over-
ton swept his eyes around swift] , and a po-
culiar tremor cre it over him. hen, With a
forced laugh, he unged his 5 urs deep into the
flanks of his m g and das ed away, mutter-

m :
fiMan or 5 ok, whichever it is, will need
1i ht heels to ollow me now!”
or nearly an hour thehalf-breed kept up this
rate of speed, then drew rein at the top of a
small knoll; the only rising ground there was
for miles around. Dismounting he drew a small
powder-flask from his pocket. and ouringla
)ortion of its contents into the pa in of is
and he moistened it with spittle, rolling the
mixture into a small ball. Coverin this .With
dry pgwder and placing it all upon t e int of
hist baiilfe, he struck a match and igni d the
s l - . -.
pHolding the splutterin beacon above his
head. he. described severa fantastic figures in
the air with it, then flung the remainder far
from him.

With a grunt of satisfaction Colonel Overton
squatted u on the ground and lit his pipe for a
smoke Whi e awaiting an answer to his signal.
He was not kept long in suspense. From the
darkness beyond came the sharp, uerulous
barking of'a coyote. Removing his pipe Over-
ton imitated the sound. A minute later a tall,
dark fl re glided up the knoll and confronted

the hal -breed. Though the night was dark, the -

few stars above ave ght sufl'lcient for Overton
to recognize in t e Indian who stood before him
the rson Whom he had signaled.

“ on are welcome, chief,” the half—breed
said, using the Kiowa dialect. “ 1 am glad to
see you.”

“My brother is late. Whirlwind has been
waiting,” coldly responded the red-man.

“That was not in fault. A do was follow-
ing my trail, and had to sto is prowh .
There is time enough. What I ave to say w
not take long. ”

“My ears are opened.
speak.”

“Sit down and smoke. We are friends and
brothers,” said Overton, setting the example.
“ Now listen. The Whirlwind is a great chief.
When his voice is raised for war, the whole
Kiowa nation paint their faces, and his one-
mies smooth their scalp-locks ready for his
knife.”

“Turn-over has a long tongue. He can sin
as sweet as the mocking-bird. He talks; Whir -
wind does.”

Overton winced at the rude, insulting tone of
the Kiowa. He knew that the chief despised
him, for good reasons. There was no love lost
between them; but the half-breed’s present
policy was one of conciliation, and he aflected

Let Turn-over

 

to rteceive the Indian' ’3 words as a compli-
men .

. “The chief says well. Turn-over will show
him that his arm is as long as his ton me when
he wishes to serve a friend. Has V liirlwind
found another white squaw to take the place of
Gold Hair?”

“ No; but the Mexican moon is near. ”

“There is a young white squaw still nearer.
She is nice and fat and love] as the mountain
partridge. Will Whirlwiii reach forth his

and and take her to his lodge?”

“ What bait must be put in Turn-over’s hand?"
shrewdly responded the chief.

“ A scalp; nothing more. Listen. Many
years ago a. white brave losthis little pappoose.

found her. Her father is rich. He gave me
some money to restore his child. I told him he
should have her. I told him she was far away,
and that it would take me two days to bring
her to meet him. He promised to bring me more
money. You will come, too, with your braves.
You will lie hidden until the pale-face gives me
the money. I will give him his daughter. Then
you Will come and take your squaw. Does
Whirlwind see?”

“Yes. Whirlwind takes the squaw and the
money.”

“ No; the squaw but the money is mine. You
will take the old white head ca tive. You will
carry them off and threaten him with the tor-
ture-stake. He is very rich, and will give you
much money, guns, istols, knives, horses and
anything you ask. hen you get these goods,

ou can let him go free, or else take his scalp,
Just as you choose.”

“Whose is the scalp I am to give Turn-
over?”

“ You know the man they call the Cha arral
Wolf? He Will be with me. You must ' lhim.
When I see his scalp, then I will be paid for the
white squaw. It is not much. He will not be
thinking of danger. You can easily kill him.”

“Turn—over is not a pap oose. His hand is
heavy enough to kill a we f," grunted Whirl-
wm .

“I have my reasons. I give you a big rice
to take his scalp for me. I you will not 0 it,
say so. Grizzly Paw is ready to do the job. ”

“Grizzly Paw is an old squaw! He would
ruiiffgom a prairie-dog. Whirlwind will kill the
we .

“ Good! Remember, then. Two nights from
this, at the Buffalo Hum . You will g‘ovthere
before the sun sets. Hi e, and wait. hen I
raise my hand, you will strike.”

The two conspirators arose, and with a few
words, separate . Colonel Overton stood still,
peering for several minutes into the darkness
Where the Kiowa had vanished. Then he
mounted his horse and turning his head toward
San Marcos, rode leisurely away.

“If he plays his art well—and he will not
fail, for he is crazy or another white squaw—
if he does not fail me I will soon be free from
his tyranny. I will e welcome to the Kiowa
lodges, after this. Maybe I can play a double
game there, too!" ‘

Muttering to himself, giving hints of the com—

heated Cplots that seat ed in his busy brain,

olonel verton failed to notice the dark figure
that uproso in his path until too late to avert his
doom. A rifle or pistol flashed before his eyes,
and with a hollow groan he fell backward from
the saddle. A dark fi re sprung upon him and
tore open his coat. t took a pocket-book and
some papers, then darted away in the darkness
like a startled hare.

CHAPTER XV.
A PHANTOM or THE NIGHT.

A ‘DAZZLING jet of flame pierced the thickly—
leaved bushes, a sharp report rung forth," and
with a spasmodic start the condemned traitor
flung back his head, only kept from falling upon
his horse’s haunches by the taut lasso. And the
red blood spurted from a round hole directly be-
tween his eyes.

For an instant the Rangers stood speechless,
so completely were they taken by surprise.
But then, as the saw that their victim was
snatched from 1; cm by death, and heard a
crashing, floundering nOise in the undergrowth,
a wild yell of angry vengeance arose, and as
one man they drew their was ons and dashed
headlong for the point from w ience the death-
shot had sped.

Dashin Ned was amou the foremost, and
scarcely Ind he taken a dzen stc s into the
darkness, when he stumbled over a uman fig-
ure, fallin headlong to the ground. Without a
moment’s esitation he rolled swiftly over and
grappled with the unknown. The rough flannel
shirt and long beard that met his grasp told the
young Ranger captain that he was grappling
with a man, though there was but a trifling re-

 

sistance made. As he pinned the fellow to the _

und, he uttered a sharp cry that speedily
rou ht his scattered men to his side. _
A ozen stout hands seized upon the captive
and dragged him into the flrelit glade, where
the dead traitor dangled at the end of the lasso
his horse having shared the general alarm an
joined the remainder. .
“Good heavens!” ejaculated Dashing Ned, as
the red glow fell upon the face of his captive.

\

12

“Hector Lamb! What does this mean? What
made you shoot Jim Brown?”

The iant settler trembled like a leaf, staring
aroun with a piteous air of bewilderment,
seemingly unable to repl . But if he could not,
another could. The bus cs arted and Mistress
Nancy marched up to the si e of her husband,
slappincg viciously at the hands which still
gras e him.

“ e didn’t shoot nobody, Mister Conwa !
’Nd I’d like to know what right you’ve got to e
chasin’ honest folks around, ketchin’ of ’em up
an’ luggin’ ’em around like they was hog-
thieves i’

“ Some person shot that man—”

“I know it! they ’most blowed my ear OE,
too! But that’s no reason you should treat my
manthat-a—way, is it? We came all this way
to ax our help, but of this is the way you treat
your riends—’

“’Twas a mistake. Scatter out, boys! I’ll
answer for it that neither of these persons fired
that shot. Keep in couples, make a wide swee
around, and fetch in whoever you can fin .
Lively, now!”

The Rangers obe ed Dashing Ned’s orders
with a promptness t iat spoke well for their dis—
cipline, and then the captain turned to the
Lambs. It mired no little tact on his art to
soothe the ed dignity of Mistress ancy,
but a chance question concerning Minnie Lamb
set her off on the right trail, when a few min-
utes sufficed to give Conway the main points of
the girl’s abduction.

A bitter oath escaped his lips as he saw how
plain the proof pointed to Colonel Overton as
he abductor.

“ I have longed for a chance at him this year
past, but he was too cunning. Luckily I can
soon learn whether or no he committed this out-
rage. He can’t stir a step but it will be report
ed to me. If he has stolen Minnie away, it will
not be hard to rescue her and punish him. Do
not fret, Aunt Nanc —”

A loud crashing in the bushes interru ted
Dashing Ned, and one of the Rangers entere the
glade, a White look of horror upon his face.

“ Jest come out, boss! the devil’s to work out
in the open-jest come out an’ see!”

That the man was in sober earnest could not
be doubted for a moment. And it must be
something very far from the ordinary run to
so utterly unman one of his known coura e.

Catching up his rifle Dashinrr Ned be. e the
Ran er lead the way, and pfunged into the
shru bery, closely fol owed by the two Lambs.

“Thar it is now!” huskily uttered the Ranger
as they emerged upon the open prairie. “ Go
Lawd! that sech pizen things is ’lowed to run
loose!”

Despite his sound ood sense and tested
courage, Dashing Ned elt a peculiar thrilling
of awe as he stared at the weirdly fantastic ob-
izct that was swiftly floating over the prairie

first one direction, then another. It bore the
semblance of a human head; but a head that
was composed of living fire, flaming blue and
ghastly, now paling, anon flashing up into a

rilliancy that dazzled the eyesight. It floated
along at several yards above the prairie level,
going even and smooth, (giving forth no sound,
caving no scent behin it. It made a wide
sweep, then turned and swiftly neared the spot
where Dashing Ned stood. The Ranger captain
raised his rifle, covered the ghastly object and
pulled the trigger. Asthe weapon exploded the
cry head disap ared. There was no sound
save the sh ec oes of the shot.

Dashing ed uttered a shrill whistle as he
darted toward the spot where his target had
vanished, and relieved from that ghoulsome
light, the Ran rs hastened to join him. But an
instant later ancy Lamb uttered a piercing
shriek. The cause was self-evident. Far away

upon the praire shone the fier head!

“Silence!” sharply cried ashing Ned, as a
su rstitions murmur arose among his men.
“ on’t make asses of ourselves! That head
on fire is a cunning tric but after all it is noth-
ing more than a trick. That head is either on
or above the shoulders of a living man. What
he is playing us for, I can’t imagine but I swear
to find out if there’s virtue in powder and lead.
Go fetch the animals—lively 1”

“It’s comin’ boss!” asped the Ranger who
had first brought Ned t e tidings.

“Let it come. Ready with your weapons,
boys. Wait for the word, then fire a foot or
two under the head. If there’s living flesh and
blood—”

He paused abruptly. The fiery head had
vanished as completely as though it had never

been!

“Slick enough, but it won’t work. Get the
horses, and we’ll soon corral this will-o’-the-
wisp,” persisted Dashing Ned, thoroughly
aroused.

His order was obe ed with commendable
mptness, but ere eRangers returned the
'ng head was again visible, this time nearly

a. quarter of a mile distant, remaining motion-
less. At a. word from their leader the Han ers
mounted, and even the two Lambs scram led
lipon their mules. Straight for the fiery head
ashing Ned led the way, trotting swiftly, his

weapons ready for use.

Beadle’s__Pie:.Librw-.

at nearly the same instant it move ahead in a
straight course. The men eyed it closely, but
their uneasiness was not lessened as they noted
how evenly it floated. The did not believe
that the horse was ever foale that could run,
pace or trot so smoothly, and nothing but their
stron love and fidelity to their trigging leader
kept fiieni from turning tail and ting a re-
treat at full speed. ~

Dashing Ned gave the word and urged his
animal on at breakneck speed, resolved to run
the phantom head down. Mile after mile was
traversed, but the relative distance dividin
them remained the same. The phantom seems
to measure its speed by theirs. Convinced at
length that the unknown held the heels of them,
Ne resolved to try another plan.

Leaping to the ground he pulled up a quan—
tit 0 dry fgrass and struck a light. Then he
0 ed off ve of his most trusty followers,
pointing ahead, where the phantom shone mo—
tionless as though awaiting their coming.

“We will divide, three on a side, and try to
surround the rascal. The rest will wait here,
keeping up the fire. He will think we have
given over the chase in disgust, and so we can
trap him easily. Close in on him if you can,
but if not, drop him cold! Strike out, now:
kelep as quiet as on can. ”

ollowed b is two comrades, proceeding
cautiousl an keeping out of a line with the
fire, Das ing Ned rode in a wide semicircle,
hoping to gain the further side of the phantom.
For some minutes the prospect of success seem-
ed fair; but then the head vanished, only to re—
appear as suddenly, far ahead. Twice more this
occurred, until even Ned became convinced that
the unknown was too cunning to be trapped by
such means, and discharged his rifle as a signal
for his men to ‘oin him.

“We’ll run 'm down if it takes a month!
Spread out in a line so he can’t double, then
forward!”

These tactics were kept u for full two hours
longer; until the stars told t at they were draw-
ing near. The fiery head still led them. Dog-
gedly the Rangers pursued, urging their jaded
animals on as rapidly as possible.

“ An hour longer and we’ll be able to see what
su ports that head,” muttered Dashing Ned.

ut this was not to be. Suddenly the lphan-
tom pausedy' remaining motionless unt' the
Rangers were within three hundred yards, then
vanishing as mysteriously as before. And from
the lace where it had gleamed, a ball of fire
shot i h up into the air, describing a beautiful
arabo a, flickering less and less brightly as it
9% upon the ground.
ashing Ned galloped forward, dismounted
and secured the all. As he did so he feltia bit
of paper crackle in his hand.

CHAPTER XVI.
“EQUALITY EPH” IN A RAGE.

THOSE were minutes fraught with horror to
Mark Bird as he lay helplessly beside what he
feared was the co e of is cousin. Sharply as
he listened he coul not detect the faintest sign
of life; no sound of breathing, no throbbing of
blood in the arm that lightly touched his Side.
And his heart rew deat ly sick as he was forced
to believe that he midnight assassin had done his
work only towwell.

Fortunately for the young man’s senses there
came an interruption 0 his horrible brooding.
The door opened and two men entered one bear-
in a liberal supply of roasted meat in a tin
dis , the other With a canteen of water and a
pot of hot coffee.

“ Reckon you’re read for grub, ain’t ye,
critters?” the foremost to low grinned, as he do-
posited his burden upon the floor.

But his humor instantly changed as his l:gaze
fell upon the white, rig-id face of Kirke ow-
ard. With a curse of angry alarm he stooped
over the prisoner, hastily cutting his bonds and
tearing t e cruel gafifrom between his jaws.

“ He ain’t dead imme that water, Dave—
run steal or borry some whis . Lively, boy!”

Holding the canteen several eet above the face
of the senseless captive the outlaw suffered the
cold spring water to falfin a steady stream on the
upturned features. The success of this treat-
ment was soon evident. With a gaspin moan
Howard opened his eyes. The outlaw c uckled
with a grim pleasure as he extended his hand
for the flask of whisky which his comrade had
obtained .

“ Take a snifl 0’ this, boss,” he said, raising
Howard’s head. “ So! you look more like it,
nlrliawt'é” I wonder do you al’ays sleep as sound as
t

 

began the lad but his wondering exclamation
was cut short by the heavy hand of his compan—
ion striking across his lips.

“You don’t want to talk so durned much
 Too long a tongue ain’t healthy; mind
t a . °

“ You can’t stop my tongue so easy,” huskin
into osed Mark Bird, tendi'llg' fingering his
swo en throat. “Some cow ly fiends tried
to murder us last ni ht—"

, “You kin tell a] that to the boss, critter,”
I coolly interrupted the outlaw. “ You’re to be

 

“ Look at them finger prents on his throat--” I

The vision seemed to divine his dpurpose, for -

 

 

brung to him in hafe an hour. Better eat an’
drink while you kin. It may be Eur last
 Old Eph’s on his high boss t ' mom-
in

“Eat if you can Mark,” muttered Howard,
moistening his parched throat. “We will need
all our strength before we get out of this scrape. "

“You’re right, Kirke. I don’t suppose it
would spite these villains one mite if we were
to starve ourselves, and I’d hate to go under
owing them so much. There are some debts one
can easil forgive, but not such as this. If I
live they 1 have good cause to wish they’d done
up their work better last night.”

“Careful, Mark!” muttered Howard with a
warning lance. “These fellows are listening
eagerly. e wary; there was more than mur-
der intended last night. My papers are gone I”

“ But why so muc trouble when they could
have taken them openly? I on’t understand!”

“ Time’s up I” interrupted the outlaw, arising.
“The cap’n wants to see you two critters, an’
I’m to fetch ou afore him. Mind, you cain’t
git away, an’ ’ve 0t orders to lay ye out ef you

try any tricks. othin’ like startin’ fiat—footed’s
mg motto. Roust up, now!”
he prisoners obe ed in silence. If they had

thought of attempting to escape by a bold dash,
the moment they emerged from the but, the
worse than folly of such a course was made evi-
dent. A dozen or more of rough, armed men
were lounging about the clearing, and ere a
dozen steps could be taken, the prisoners would
have been shot down or else surrounded and
ove wered by mere weight of numbers.

W en near t e center of the clearing, the out-
law who guarded the cousins paused and rudely
saluted a man who was reclining u on a pile of
skins before the door of a hut. e prisoners
glanced curiously at this man. From the re—
s ctful demeanor of their free and easy guard,
t e knew that they stood before the chief of
outflws—a bold, daring rascal whose name was
only too well known throughout South-western
Texas.

Tall and finely formed, hisface was still fierce-
ly handsome, though dissipgtion and an unregu-
lated career had marred th face and figure.
This was the man whose fierce lawlessness and
reckless cruelty had ained for him the signifi-
cant sobriquet: the olf of the Chaparral. He
was proud of the title, and never lost an oppor-
tunity of proving its fitness. Of late days he
had selected another nom de guerre, which he
fancied still better indicated his chosen profes-
sion; and the fame of “Equality Eph ’ bade
fair to equal that gained by the Chaparral Wolf.

“I suppose you know who I am, gentlemen?”
he uttered, in a low, soft tone, toying with a re-
volver butt at his waist. -

“A horse-thief, footpad and woman-thief,”
promptly responded Mark Bird. “All this, and
worse, for aught I know.”

your master, you might add ” the out-
law said, in the same low, soft tone, at with a
gathering fire in his eyes. “I have but to lift
my finger, and you are food for dogs. But I did
not send for you simply to handy epithets. You
admitted, last night that your names were
Kirke Howard an Mark Bird; that you came
to Texas in answer to a letter from one David
Woodson. And I confessed that I am Woodson.
I had an object in writing that letter, of course.
I knew that it would bring you out here; that
you would fetch with you papers of importance
to prove your connection with the persons who
die at Live Oak Ranch—”

“ Who were foul] murdered, you mean,” bit-
terl interru ted oward.-

“ urdere , if the word suits you better,”
laughed Equality Eph. “ They are dead, at an
rate. There has been an enormous fortune 1e
to that man or his heirs. This fortune has fallen
to you. Now, have you brought the papers that
proved your right to this pro rty?”

“You know that I did,’ bi terly uttered How~

ard.

“I suspected as much; but how should I
know?” -

“ Bah! are we tools? For what reason did you
have us bound and gagged last night?”

“Because you were interfering in a matter
that did not concern you. You were intrud-
ing upon the privacy of a young lady friend
of mine, and I too the simplest method of
checking your curiosity]; nothing more. ”

“Indeed! and pray ow do you explain the
rest} Why did you steal upon us in the dead of
night, throttle us and steal away the apers
which ou now so brazenly demand? Loo ! my
throat are the mark of your assassin fingers
even yet!”

“Are you crazy, man?” ef'aculated Equality
Eph, as he sprung erect. “ never visited you
last night. never assaulted you, never touch-
ed a paper—bah! you are trying to blind me.
Will you give me those documents, or must 1
have on searched?”

“I ve them not. You did your work too
well last night.”

At a. motion from their chief two men ad-
vanced and thoroughly searched the lpuij'lsoners,

hing. Cursing 'ousl

failin todiscover an ,
EquafityE h dash 011 to the but where e
cousins ha been confined, and searched in

every corner, every crack and crevice, on the

A .

A .

sus icion that the had sus ected his u use ’
iiy t p p 13) ’

an sou ht to fo i by concealing the
ments. ut his search was in vain,

As he emerged, his men shrunk aside in fear
and trembling, so terrible was his rage. Con-
fronting Howard he thrust a cocked revolver
into his face, muttering in a strained, deadly

one:
“Tell me where you have hidden those pa-

ocu-

rs, or by the livmg Eternal! I’ll blow your ,

rains out!”

I

“ If I knew where they were, I’d never utter r
a word While you tr to scare me into confes— '

sion,” quietly said 'rke. “Put aside your
weapon, and act more like a man.”

For one moment the Chaparral Wolf hesi-
tated, and every one present felt that the rash
young fellow had sealed his doom. But the pis-
tol was lowered, undischarged.

“ Now you're acting half-way decent ” added
Howard. “You play your part well, but you
should remember that we have been behind the
scenes. You say that you did not rob us. Of
course we cannot doubt a gentleman of honor.
I suppose you sent some 0 our fellows to do
the dirty work. If so, ask it wm for the papers,
not us.”

“ Upon your word of honor these pa rs were
gtolen from you, last night?” demande the out-

aw.

“ I have said so once; that is enough,”

“Tell, me the whole affair; just how it oc-

“ First; why are you so anxious to obtain pos-
session of the papers? They cannot possibly in-
terest you.”

“They interest me so much that with them,
and you dead, I could easily obtain eve dollar
of that fortune. Now, answer my nestion.”

Though sorely puzzled by the out aw’s asser-
tion Howard no longer refused, but, aided by
Mark, gave the clearest explanation he could to
the m sterious event of the 1past night.

“ ho was on guard at t e cage, last night,
Evans?” demanded Equality Eph, of his nearest
follower.

“Tom Kennedy, cap’n,” was the prompt re-

1 .
p X Where is he? go send him here. I can’t un-
derstand it,” he muttered, as to himself. “ Tom
is true as steel. And yet there has been treach-
erfi somewhere. If I can find out where !”
vans soon returned, accompanied by Ken-
nedy, who looked as though he had 'ust been
awakened. For a few moments the olf e ed
him keenly, seekin to read the truth. His itps
tos ak; a that instant Tom Kenm 11
ng hig into the air, falling dead, upon his
ace! There was no nimble wound ' there was
no re of either punorp'istol. Yet the out-
law was stone dead

CHAPTER XVII.
ran wonr SEEKS n's LAIB.

Tin: outlaws stared in o en-mouthed astonish‘
ment as their comrade fel heavily to the earth.
There had been no report of rifle or pistol no

litter of a knife, nor had any person touched

om Kenned with so much as a finger-ti .
They fancied e had slipped and fallen possilfiy
overtaken by a fit; all but Equality Eph. e
recalled the mysterious death of his spy at San
Antonio, and without stooping to examine the
fallen guard, he knew that he, too, was dead.
But by what means? By whose hands? These
questions flashed rapidly through the outlaw’s
brain, but he did no give them utterance. One
swlift glance around, and his determination was
ta en.

“Scatter and beat the brush, boys! There’s
an assassin near at hand. He’s _murdered poor
Einnfidy. "Bring him in alive if you can, but

6 m—

Equality E h bit his sentence short ofl.’ and
raised a rave ver with a. fierce snarl, as a man
broke through the line of close-growm shrub-
bery and entered the little clearing. u_t the
weapon was not discharged. Just in the mck of
time the outlaw chief reco ' d one of his own
menin the new-comer. 6 saw too, that the
fellow was greatly excited and at once jumped

- to the conclusion that he had encountered the

m sterious slayer.

‘Quickl where is bet—which way did he go?”
he cried, springing forward to meet the man.

“They’re out yonder—nigh a hunderdl Com-
in’ right in ’lon the trail. The jig’s up, boss!”

Equality Ep stared in mute amazement.
But almost instantly he divined the mistake.

“What did you come to report? who is out
there?”

‘ ‘ The Rangers—Dashin’ Ned—blast him 1 He’s
got a hull rejiment o’ critters—”

At this moment Martin the lieutenant of the
baud, hastened into the clearing. His face was
troubled, though his voice was cool and steady.

“ I can get nothing. out of this fooll Tell me
what is u , Martin,” hurriedly demanded

ualit Ep . . .

‘ Das ing Ned and his hounds have run us
down. He has about fifty men. They are en-
tering- the chi; now. I have given the
boys on guard is sir directions, and they will de-
lay, if not entirely baffle him. I am here for
your orders. Is it fight, 01‘ Tull?”

 

 

13

 

  quality- Eph.

“Run, if we can, without too much risk.
There’s nothin but hard knocks to be won of
those brutes. et——if we were not so incum-
bered with the women and prisoners, I’d ask
nothing better than a brush.”

“ You can send them on to the Den in charge
of two or three men,” said Martin.

“No. There is too much at stake to risk it
now. Do you take as many men as you wish,
and do the best ou call with those hounds.
Lead them astray if you can; keep them back
as long as possible, without letting them close
hand to hand. Go, now. I‘ll give ou the
word when we are ready for on to fal back.”

“Take your time, captain. Dashing Ned
will: find his hands full, unless I greatly mis-
ta 9.

Collecting a dozen men the lieutenant hasten-
ed back to the scene of danger with all the ar—
dor of a bridegroom seeking his new-made
bride. Black and sin-stained though his heart
was, the fear of mortal man never found lodg-
ment therein.

“There is danger brewin , father?" uttered a
clear, soft voice, and as quality Eph turned

uickly he encountered the bright glance of
Missouri Belle. “ I caught a ortion of what
Martin said. Tell me what i is, that I may
know how to act.”

“ Dashing Ned has led his Ran ers down upon
us. We could fight him, but t ere would be
more less than we can afford. Go get your
horse ready. We’re bound for Black swamp.
Haste! there is no time to lose!" .

“And the prisoners?" asked Belle, With a
glance to where the cousins stood, still guarded

y Evans.

“They o with us, of course. Only for them
and you, fwould fight this young our, and send
him yelping to his last home. But my time will
come. 0 now; do as I bid you.” ~

Without more words Missouri Belle obeyed.
Equality Eph called another of his men and
turned over to him and Evans the care of the
two risoners.

“ ut them on horseback; tie their feet to—
gether, and their hands behind their backs. You
will ride with them, and in case of the worst—
if the Rangers press us too hard, and there is
danger of a rescue, blow out their brains.
Make sure work of him, first,” and the outlaw
touched Kirke Howard upon the shoulder.

The clearing was now a scene of confusion.
A dozen or more women were hurrying to and
fro, some of them bearing babes at their
breasts, others scolding older children into a
terrified silence. The remaining men were
hastily preparing horses for the road, and pack-
iiig 1(in the least cumbersome articles of their
p un er.

From near the edge of the chaparral, still a
mile or more distant, there came a faint, single
report, followed by several other shots. Equal-
ity Eph frowned uneasily. He knew that the
Rangers must be pressing their advance stub-
bornly. With angry impatience he urged his
men to renewed exertion, and so successfully
that ten minutes later the majority were in the
saddle leaving the other animals, saddled and
bridle , secured to the surrounding trees, ready
for the outlaws under Martin when they should
be forcedto fallback.

Equality Eph and his daughter rode beside
the cousins. Without mincing his words the
former told them that at the least trouble they
gave, or at the first sign of an attempted rescue,
thie‘y would be at once put to death.

or several minutes the party wound along
the narrow trail, listening to the sounds from
the rear. The report of fire-arms were growing
more frequent, and instead of growing fainter,
sounded nearer and more distinct. Equality
Eph grated his teeth in anger as he was forced,
to believe that his men were being forced back.

“ Eternal curses on that Martin 1” he snarled.
“ If he must retreat wh don’t he take another
trail? The cowardly 001 is bringing them
strai ht upon our backs l”

“'Fhere is some one following us at speed ”
said Belle, drawing rein and bendin hel‘ heat.
“I can hear the stroke of ahorse’s oofs upon
the beaten trail. ”

Orderin the others to press on Equality Eph
halted, loo ing to his weapons. But these were
not required just at resent. A single rider
for ed in view and reined his panting horse in
at their feet. Without givinghim time to speak,
the Wolf exclaimed:

“Wh is Martin bringin these bounds on our
trail? Why did he not 0 y orders and lead
them toward the Kiowa trail?”

“We did the best we knowed, cap’n; but luck
was a ’inst us,” hurried] but deprecatingly an-
swe the outlaw. “ artin started us on that
trail, an’ we thought all was goin’ on right but
all to oncet the Rangers struck out for the c ear-
in’, straight as a die. We tried to head ’em all”,
but ’twa‘sn’t no use. You know how bad the
bresh is. They kep’ on, an’ we could only foller
an’ er ’em all we knowed. Martin sent me
on ead an’ I tuck a boss an’ come to tell you
what was up. In less’n a quarter them imps ’ll
be here. ”

“Ride on and tell the men to wait for us at
the further side of the Long Opening,” abrgptly
ordered Missouri Belle. ‘ Nay,” she add , as

 

Equality Eph stared at her in surprise, “ I have
my reasons, father. I think I can see a way out
of this scrape. Come; we can talk as we ride
along. I can do nothing until we have passed
the fork in the trail.”

They trotted alon the trail at a loisurelv
rate, the sounds of ring drawing nearer wit
every minute. In a few well-chosen sentences
Belle revealed her plan; one of no little danger
to herself, but she made light of this, nor did
the Wolf seem greatly troubled.

After passing a point where the trail divided,
the twain drew rem, and the girl added:

“Do you ride on and prepare the men. Be—
lieve me, it will all come about as I say.
Martin is no fool, and he will be ready to seize
the opportunity. Go, now; we will meet again,

soon. ’

“I will do as on say, Belle. I hope all will
turn out well. on are a good child, and I hate
til) leav,e such work to you. Let me stay in your
p ace.

“You would only fail, father. Go—there is
no time to lose. Go—ancl God guard youl”

The outlaw pressed his lips to her brow, then
urged his horse along the beaten trail.

CHAPTER XVIII.
WOLvns AND MASTIFFS.

THERE was a peculiar, cloyin smell about the
flickering firebal as Dashing ed picked it up
from the ground that at once gave him a clew
to the myste of the fiery head. He knew
that the ghas y, bluish light was produced by
a chemical preparation, in all probability phos—
phorated ether or some kindred agent. But
who was playing such a bold trick? what could
be his object

As he asked himself this question, Dashing
Ned felt the bit of paper rattle among the grass
blades which were wound around it. Crouch-
in down he struck a match and ignited a hand-
f of dry grass. By this light he succeeded in
deciphering the scroll. There was neither ad-
dress nor signature.

“ Chaparral due east. Look for a broken-topped
tree and a hawk's nest. Search closely and you
will find a treasure."

Dashing Ned stamped out the fire, and gave
the word for his men to dismount and icket
their animals, since the hunt was u nut (18. ,
at least. When this was accom lis ed, he ca 1-
ed his men to ether and told hem what was
written upon t 6 pa r, together with his solu-
tion of the fiery hea . -

“ No man would run such a risk for nothing.
I can’t ima 'ne the motive, but I’ll find out be-
fore I quit t e trail. Where’s Lamb?"

“ Ef you mean the critter you ketched back
yonder, cap’n, they dropped out o’ the chase

two hours ago. Mules ‘11 out, I reckon.”

“ It doesn’t matter much,” ashing Ned mut-
tered, more to himself than the Ranger.
“Double Dan will make his report in plenty
time, and much sooner than we could learn any-
thing by taking the trail.”

With the first ray of light Dashing Ned set
to work, and his men jomed him with even
more than usual' ardor when they noticed the

 

clear, fresh trail left by ashod horse. Feelin
assured that they were dealin with one o
mortal flesh and blood, instea of a super-

natural being, they were, one and all, eager to
make amends for the past night.

The trail led strai ht for a ong line of timber,
due east, and distan less than one mile. Halt-
ing when just be and rifle-shot, Dashing Ned
and two men r0 0 ahead, followin the trail
until it entered the undergrowth t at fringed
the chaparral. »

“ Thai-’5 the broken-top tree an’ it’s got a
nest in it, too!” muttere Fred Meyer; a griz-
zled and weather-beaten plamsinan.

“I see; we’ll dismount and take it afoot,”
said Conwa , resolutely. “ There ma be a trap
set for us, ut even so, the boys wi take big
pay for anything that befalls us. Look to only
weapons and has an e e out for snags. ”

Making a sign for t 9 Rangers to hold their
places until further orders, Dashing Ned ushed
into the dense shrubbery, heading for the when
tree. Nothing but natural obstacles interfered
With their progress, and two minutes later he
stood beside the tree. A square of white aper
was pinned to the bark with a sharp t orn.

Eagerl watched by his men the youn captain
gecurcel this, and read aloud the wor it con- _
aine :

“ You are in earnest, and that is good. This trail
will lead you to the haunt of the man whom you
have sought so long. His force does not outnum-
ber ours. It on are in the humor, the howl of
the haparral 01! will never more insultlhe cars
of honest men. Send your Scouts nlead to clear
the trail it is guarded, though carelessly. Then
press on, nor pause until your Work is done.

“Douan Sion'r. ms Damn r nor."

“ Ef he’s on our side, it’s all right," muttered
Meyer, but with an uneasy glance around him.

“If what he says is true, he’s the best friend
we ever struck l” and Dashing Ned’s flashing eye
told how sincere were his words. “ Lay low and
watch the trail, while Igo call up the boys.”

Several men were left to bring up the horses,
while the main force advanced upon foot, pre-
ceded by four chosen scouts, who were dilected

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

 

1%

to press ahead and spy out the position and
strength of the outlaws then to return and re-
port, if possible without raising an alarm.

This plan of operations was well conceived,
but it was doomed to miscarry The outlaws
who were guarding the trail, though they per-
mitted the Rangers to penetrate the chapparal
unheralded, discovered the threatening danger
in time to send a runner to camp with the tid-
ings and an appeal for aid.

until just before they reac ed a point where the
trail divided, one to the left hand or eastern
division which was known among the Wolves
as the Kiowa trail, the other one leading to the
clearing Where the Cha arral Wolf had ocated.
At this 1point the guar s first made their pres-
ence fe t. One of them steppled out into full
view, and deliberately picking is man, brou ht
him down with a bul at through the brain. he
instant he fired, he lea (1 into the bushes.
barely avoiding the few asty shots discharged
at hi'n by the surprised Rangers. Then he took
to flight along the winding trail. feeling assured
that the Rangers, thirsting for revenge, would
follow him without hesitation. Nor did he mis-
take, for, guided by the sound of his hasty flight,
and believing that he would naturally hasten to
oin his fellows, the Rangers, led by Dashing
ed, struck into the Kiowa. trail without a mo-
ment’s hesitation.
The supposed fugitives, aided by their thor-
ough knowledge of the ground, easily kept
ahead, pausing now and then to fire a shot to

the rear, the more surely to draw the Rangers '

astray; These shots were answered, but since
the first rifle was discharged, no blood had been
drawn, since the marksmen were guided by
sound alone.

Thus far the plans of the outlaws succeeded to
grfection, but now came a change, disastrous

their hopes. Martin, in his eagerness to save
the encam ment, entered a side trail that inter-
sected the iowa trail, but miscalculating, came
out 'ust to the rear of the Rangers, cuttin them
OR om their horses. Believing himself awn
into an ambush, Dashing Ned ve the word
and led a charge to regain their orses. For a
few minutes the struggle was fierce and deadly.
Though barely a dozen in number, the Wolves
were reckless, and the thick underbrush stood
them in good stead. No solid charge could be
made, and each man had to fight on his own
hook. But even here weight of numbers pre-
vailed, and the Rangers cut their way through
to their animals, though, by this time, Dashing
Ned saw his mistake, and was retty well aware
what force he was opposing. 6 had ‘ust given
the word to s read out and surround t eenemy,
gigs? Fred eyer came up and made a startling

osure.

He hald passed thish guards Fascismfildtaftfir
narrow escapi e party e y in, e
followedythe trails to the cleaiin and discovered
the village of the Chaparral W0 f. He made all
haste back to report.

This was enough for Dashin Ned. Rescind-
lng his order, he fell back un ' the fork of the
trail was regained. Then, b a sim le maneu-
ver, he turned the flank of he out aws under
Martin and spreading out so as to hold them in
check. he struck out for the clearing. Fiercer
the Wolves raged when they saw how they were
tricked, but w en two more of their number had
paid the penalty of their rashness, the remain—
der learned prudence. They hung closely up-
on the heels of the Ran ers, seeking to mfiict all
the loss possible, as we as to delay them until
those at the village could find safety in fli ht.
Martin dispatched a runner with word of t eir
failure then fought his men as Well as.he was
able. y taking a side trail, the memenger suc—
ceeded in stealing past the Rangers, and though
hotly pursued, reached the deserted clearing,
took one of the horses and bore the. evil news to
E<Euality Eph as alread detailed.

lose upon his heels t e Rangers entered the
o ning, and spreading his men out to hold the
Igglves in check, Dashing Ned hastili searched
the village and took possession of the
there for Martin and his men.

“ Scatter the fires and burn the cabins!” or—
dered Conwa , and within five minutes every
:iii‘i’t in the p was ignited beyond redemp-

n.

orses left

This accomplished he sent several men along
the fresh trai to make sure that the flight of the
Wolves was genuine, and not a blind, covering
an ambush.

Martin made a strenuous effort to skirt the
clearing and regain the trail ahead of the Ran-
gers, but failed for want of time. Dashing Ned

used only to make sure that the huts were

irly ablaze, then pressed on to overtake his
scouts. By this prompt movement the Wolves
were again thrown in the rear, and once more
the annoying  marked the march.

As a. man fell dead by his side, Dashing Ned
resolved to put a stop to the matter and quietly
passing the word for half a dozen 0 his men to
press on until a convenient spot for an ambush
was found, when they were to slip aside from
the trail, he rode on ready for the climax.

S ting nothing, the Wolves came on' they

the tw theeagerRangerslayin
covert. A clear whistle was the first inkling

This they did with .
such caution that the Ran ers suspected nothing 1

 

they had of their danger. Before they could do
aught to avert their doom, two-thirds of their
number were shot down from ambush. Dash-
ing Ned and his men charged; taken between
two fires, the Wolves fought game] , asking
nor receiving quarter. The last to fa 1, Martin
shot a Ranger through the brain even as death
seized him. .

Leaving his dead to be cared for when his
work should be completed, Dashing Ned pressed
along the trail with redoubled ardor, and now
that there was nothing to be apprehended from
the rear, he took the lead in person.

The trail was plain before him, and very
fresh. His heart beat high at the favorable
prospect of accomplishing the stern duty he had
set himself, when—

“ Halt! one step nearer, and I fire!”

Before him, blockin the narrow trail mount-
ed upon her spotte mustang, sat Missouri
Belle, the child of the Chaparral Woli'l And
her revolver covered the heart of the Ranger
captain.

 

CHAPTER XIX.
A HUMAN SNAKE.

FROM the hour of his leaving San Antonio,
the day after the festivities, there was not an
action, me a step of Colonel Overton’s that
was no watched and as carefully noted by a
cunning and adroit spy. Dashing Ned knew
what he was about when he selected Double Dan
for this duty. A better qualified man did not
live. Of that cool courage that carries a man
unflinchingly up to certain death, simply be-
cause duty calls, shrewd and ready—witted;

. perfectly versed in wood and prairie craft; a

master of his weapons; as swift and tireless of
foot as a prairie wolf ; when Double Dan once
struck a trail, a. bloodhound could as easily be
choked off.

“ You will take the trail and follow that man
night and day, no matter where he goes or What
he does. Keep a record of everything. Never
let him sli you until you can either safely
swear that he is innocent of what we suspect, or
until you know that he is connected with Equal-
ity Eph and his gan . If you think you can do
this, good; if you oubt, say so, and I’ll send
Fred Meyer instead.”

The two men were rivals in their claims as
scouts and no better incentive could be offered
than this hint, as the Rangerca tainwell knew.
And from that hour Double an was Colonel
Overton’s shadow.

For several days his vigilance was unreward—
ed, but in his heart Double Dan felt that his
hour would come, and he was right. He saw
the meeting between Overton and Grizzly Paw,
the Lipan sub-chief, though he was unable to
steal near enough to overhear their talk. When
they separated the Indian to collect his braves,
the other to haunt the vicinity of the Lamb
ranch, Double Dan watched Overton closer than
ever.

And thus' it was that while Overton was trail-
ing Minnie Lamb to her fishing-place, he him-
se f was shadowed so skillfully that not the
faintest suspicion of mischief entered his mind
or those of his red-skinned accomplices.

Squatting low in the midst of a dense mass of
vines, Double Dan overheard every word of the
conversation between Overton and his intended
victim, and even witnessed the latter part of
the interview chuckling beneath his breath as
the half-breed was knocked senseless beneath
the water by the desperate maiden. He also
saw her subsequent capture and the rescue of
Overton from drowning, by the Lipans. Nor
did he miss one word of what followed.

When Grizzly Paw strode away, followed by
his braves in charge of Minnie Lamb, and Colo-
nel Overton retraced his steps toward the copse
in which his horse was hidden, Double Dan wrig-
gled out of his snug covert, his puckered and
wrinkled countenance all aglow. And his dou-
ble voice blended curiously as he muttered to
himself:

“Ef I hain’t struck it rich, I don’t want a
cent! Lawdi ef the boss ondly knowedl would-
n’t he cuss an’ r’ar an’ slin things eendways?
Waal, I should re-mark! S’pose he did know;
what’d he tell me? ‘Go fer sweetness, Dou-
ble Dan you pizen critter! ii’st that emery
Grizzly lDaw—set down on his pizen bucks ontel
they squeal blue murderl Let Turn—over go to
thunder, but fotch me back my lump 0’ sugar 1’
That’s what he would say; but he ain’t ar, an’

I’m Wine to stick to what orders ve got
a’rea . Yar’s for your skelp, Turn—over!
Me ’n my brother is gwin’ for ye: the twins 0’

Bitter Root is a—b’ilin’ over on your trail! Wake
snakes an’ hunt your hole!”

Past the 10 cabin, over the river and up the
valley the f—breed d, and after him came
Double Dan, running y sight whenever there
were bushes or other cover convenient for hid-
ing in should the colonel look behind him; when
the ground was open, running by si ht and
hearing. To most men the task won d have
been asevere if not an impossible one; but to
Double Dan such work seemed little more than
play. The long miles that he ran over that af—
ternoon scarce dampened his leathery skin, and
when the town of San Marcos was sighted, and

. summed u

 

 

he became satisfied that Overton was bound

thither, Double Dan fell into a walk, his breath-

infias even and regular as though he had mere-

 een taking a stroll for the good of his appe-
1 e.

As he reached the last bit of cover, and not
caring to ex ose himself too soon, the spy nat-
ted down, lled his pipe, and while smo ing
his discoveries of that day.

“What id he tell the Injun? Ta 9 the gal
to the Wolf of the Chaparral—which means
Equality Eih—an’ you’ll git heaps o’ Whisky.
Ef my rot er wasn’t so durned contrai -—ef
we was the kind 0’ twins what kin trave two
ways to once—what a soft snap that’d ’a’binl
By jest folleriii’ them i'ed—skins—but orders is
orders. The boss said: ‘You foller Turn-over,’
an’ I’m bound fer to do it.

“Then what’d he say! ‘You take this bill -
duck an’ give it to the Wolf; likewise the gall’
Ef that on’t show the two pizen critters is
workin’ in cahoot, then I dont want a centl
You kin kick an’ squirm, Tum-over, but I’ve
fioft tlhe ondergrip on ye, an’ I never lose my

0 s

“ Then what does he say to the gal—which is
the cap’n’s sweetness? Says he: ‘ I’ll see ye
ag’in, honey, in a con le of days.’ What does
that pan out? The ga goes to Equality Eph‘s
keer, then of he wants to see her ag’in, Tum-
over must nat’ally ’tend to call on him. An’ ef
he calls on him, won’t I be ’long, too? An’ won’t
that fetch the two trails into one? Good Lord!

es!” And the bass-falsetto laugh of Double

an rung out in high glee, as he once more re-
sumed his trailing.

On enterin the town, almost the first object
that met Dou le Daii’se e was the horse of Over-
ton standing before the ingy inn. Trusting in his
dis ' e, the sp boldly entered the bar-room,
fin ing the Ian ord alone, white and trembling
from his interview with the colonel. At nearly
the same moment Overton summoned him, and
demanded refreshments in a private room. As
the Mexican returned from showing his dreaded
customer to his room, he was accosted by Dan.
Again the wretched fellow seemed on the rack.

‘ You know who I be. You hain’t fergot the
warnin’ the boss give you, nuther. I’m here on
business. Is they any way I kin git a look at
that man you jest tuck to a room? Ef you kin
manidge this, it’ll be one count in your favor
when the settlement comes.”

Afraid to trust his tongue, the landlord led
Double Dan into an ad ‘oinmg room, and show-
ed him a small Beep-ho e which commanded the
table at which verton sat. Leaving Dan here,
he hastened to fill the half-breed’s order.

From this 100 -hole, Dan saw Overton count
over the money e had just received from the
Marvins, and overheard his muttered com-
ments. And it was from his hands that half
fin hour later, Colonel Overton received his

orse.

Warming to the hunt Double Dan followed
Overton through the town and over the prairie,
dogging him like a human sleuth-hound. As
the sun set and the shades of night he -to
deepen, he uickened his pace and gra ually
lessened the istance which ad divided him and
his quarry, for Overton was now riding over the
prairie w ere there was no regular trail, and he
could afford to run no risks. .

It was at this moment that Overton awoke
from his deep thinking and cast a keen lance
around him. Thou h Double Dan instan y fell
flat upon his face, e knew that he had been
seen. Peering through the grass-blades, the spy
saw Overton wheel and dash toward him.
There was too much at stake to risk an encoun-
ter, and Double Dan crawled rapidly away from
the trail at right-angles. Fortune still stood his
friend, for he came upon a burrow of the prai-
rie-wolf, and gras ing a “tumble—weed”——one
of the curiosities o the rairie—he backed into
the hole, though not wit out a su icion that he
might be disagreeany saluted by t e occu ants
of the burrow, perhaps a rattlesnake, and aw-
ing himself into a wonderftu small compass,
pulled the tumble-weed over his head. Thus it
was that the close search of the half-breed was
in vain, though more than once he passed with:
in a dozen feet, of his prey, had he only known

it.

Guided by his ear, Double Dan crawled from
his novel refuge and once more took the trail,
now befriended by the gloom. He was not fifty
yards from the little knoll when Overton lit his
signal, and waiting patiently the spy was at
length rewarded bi seeing a Second gure out-
lined against the y—line. As soon as he saw
them settle down, and caught the faint fumes of
burning tobacco he stole stealthil up to the
mound. Lyin fiat u n his stomac , and mak-
ing sure that t 0 win was in his favor, lest the
horses should scent his presence he ventured
still closer until not twenty feel: divided him
from the conspirators, and their every word was
distinctly audible.

The emotions with which he listened to the di—
abolical plot which Overton divul ed, can readi-
ly be imagined. His blood tin l with a fierce
jog'ashesawhoweas it W0 (1 hate turn the
w ole game into the c annel of ‘ustice, and in
his eagerness to not miss a we , he narrowly
escaped being discovered by the Whirlwind

,... ‘

< «-——H~w44

Equality» Eph.

 

15

 

 

 

 

Ehellll, the interview over, the Kiowa left the
no .

Forcod to wait until the save e was beyond
ear-shot, Double Dan allowed verton to et
quite a little start of him, but soon regained t e
lost distance. He was congratulating himself
upon the complete success which had rewarded
his efforts, when Overton abruptly drew rein, a
bright flash lit up the gloom, and with the sharp
report the half-breed fell from his horse. Taken
so completely by surprise, Double Dan stood
amazed for near a minute. He saw a man
5: ring upon Overton, and tear 0 on his clothes.

t this a flood of light fllled his rain, and with
a loud yell he sprun toward the assassin.
With a yell of alarm t e fellow left his victim
and fled at top speed through the night.

CHAPTER XX.
HONOR FOR LOVE.

“ HALT! or I fire! I command this trail, and
no man passes here without my permission!"

A ver queen of the wild wood looked Mis-
souri Be 9 as she uttered these words, clear and
imperious. Never had she looked so thorou h-
ly, so intoxicatineg beautiful as then. or
eyes were twin stars her face pale, save where
two brilliant spots of scarlet marked her cheeks;
her whole being was full of life and fire.
Framed in with the dense een foliage and
brown, drooping boughs, she ormed a rare ic—
ture with her bright, close-fitting dress, or
gleaming weapons, her 8 otted mustang, and

er defiant demeanor. Seated astride in the
Mexican fashion, with both arms outstretched
and a cocked revolver in each hand, her superb,
finely—developed figure was thoroughly displafr
ed. The “ amt-mustang,” too, seemed to ful y
enter into t e spirit of the scene, for it stood as
firm and motionless as a rock, though its eyes
fholpe brightly from beneath its shaggy fore-
o

 

c .

Dashing Ned drew rein with a cry, not of
alarm but of surprise the most profound. And,
his gaze riveted upon that fair face, he sat his
horse like one petrified.

“ The p’izen critters ’ll git clean off, boss!” ut-
tered Fred Meyer, in his eagerness. “Shell I
cl’ar the track?”

As he spoke the reckless old Ran er flung for-
ward his rifle, though it may be oubted whe-
ther or no he would have put his suggestion in-
to operation even if left alone, wrou rht up as
his worst passions had been. But t e strong
hand of Dashing Ned grasped the rifle—barrel
and with the same movement wrested it from
the Ranger’s sp and hurled the weapon into
the bushes. f nothing else Meyer’s words were
of service in arousing the captain.

h “15919.! Great heavens! what brings you
re.
eWas it acting? was Missouri Belle simply car-
r ing out the plan she had confided to her fa—
t or a few minutes before? Or was the white
shade that chased the roses from her cheek be-
ond her control? What meant that wild,
unted look that filled her eyes?

With a low cry she wheeled her mustang and
disappeared amid the timber. As though
moved by the same impulse Dashing Ned urged
his horse forward, while the Rangers pressed
close upon his heels. On at a. reckless speed un-
til the dense undergrowth grew thinner, finally
giving place to a long, narrow opening that
appgrently extended for miles both east and
was .

As he broke through the brush Dashing Ned,

guided b his ear saw Missouri Belle riding at
ull spec down this natural race-course head-
ing toward the east. A single glance showed
him that the trail of the retreating Wolves led
directly acro the o ning; For a brief space
he heSitated. Duty ade im ursue the out-
laws; but his heart opposed. ve and a sick-
ening doubt urged him to overtake the fair fugi-
tive' and love conquered.

“ ait here for me,” he said, turning to his
lieutenant and forcing himself to speak deliber-
ately lest he should betray his great agitation.
“ That woman may have important information.

I can crpture her in a few minutes. Then we
will run those wolves down.” '
Without awaiting the reply Dashing Ned

gave his horse free rein and sped after the spot-
ted mustang. who was hearing its mistress
swiftly toward the morning sun. One back-
ward glance the fugitive cast, then devoted her
every ener 'y and art to maintain her vantage-
ground. nd right nobl the little mustang re-
warded her efforts. Sw' t and hardy it scarce
seemed to feel the burden it bore, bu brushed
the dewdrops from the bending blades of grass
with the long, low leaps of a hard-pressed ante—

lo .

gashin Ned used his spurs freely, but his
horse h been ridden long and hard, and there
was not its wonted elasticity in its movements.
A half-curse, half— roan parted the Ranger’s
lips as he saw that e paint-mustang was fairly
holding its own. _ ‘

His brain was in a Wild confusion. He could
scarce believe his eyes. And once he pinched
his arm until the blood flowed, to convince him-
self that he was not dreaming.

A cold pe iration starte from every pore
as he saw the the spotted mustang was slowly

 

but surely leavinr him behind. He drew a
istol and half-love ed it, thinking to shoot the
orse, but dared not trust his mustang’s nerves.

And then at such speed, a fall from the saddle

mi ht well prove fatal to the woman.

he chase had covered full two miles, when
the fugitive turned her mustang toward the
southern timber. Dashing Ned took instant ad—
vantage of the angle, gaining several rods by
the change. Straight on dashed Missouri Belle;
but instead of entering the timber she drew
rein beneath a low spreading live-cal; tree and
cool] faced her pursuer. _

“ ood-morning, Captain Conway! You ap-
pear to be in a hurry.’

Dashing Ned wrenched up his horse confused
and abashed at this cool salutation. There was
no look of terror now in those lustrous eyes, and
the fair skin was only softly suffused, while a
pleasant smile played around the red-ripe mouth.

“Isola, what does this mean? why are you
here?" he faltered, coming closer.

“Is not the prairie free for me as you, Ca
tain Conway? Though from the manner in
which you and your rough bears hunted me, I
could almost doubt the fact. Do you alwa s
take a 'oke so seriously? Or did you mista e
me for t e Chaparral Wolf?” '

“What could we think? That man and his
murderous gang had but a few minutes before

assed over that very trail. I cannot understand
how you escaped meeting them. I can’t make

out how you came here; it is all a puzzle l”

“ There are many enigmas in this world, and
I am one of them. You have never understood
me, from the very first. You believed me every-
thing but what was—and am, God help me!
Had you only known—I Bah! what matter? It
is all in a lifetime.” And the young. woman
laughed; but there was far more of bitterness
than merriment in the peel.

“I believed you all that was pure and good; I
believe so still. I will always believe so. I
loved you the first time we met, and that
love has grown stronger and firmer every day
and every hour since. You can say nothing
that can alter that love, Isola, let the mystery
which surrounds on, take its birth from what
it will. I only as {—”

“ Ask nothing, Edward, for I have nothing to

've you. I have been false to you from the
rst. I had a part given me to play, until
played it, caring little how you might suffer
rom it. Stop! something is urging me to tell
the whole truth now, and I must obey. You
must li’sten to me; I ask it by the love you swore

“ I will listen, Isola,” said Conway, quietly.
“ But if you are testing the truth of my love,
you are Simply wastin time.”

“ No more! you are eaping coals of fire upon
my head! Be still—let me sa my say while I
can command myself! 'I said hat I had played
you false from our first meeting, and  meant it.

did not like the part, but I was acting under
orders from one w om I could not disobey. You
remember, you rescued me from two ruflians in
San Antonio, one night. I was playing a part,
then. That was a farce by whic I was to make
your acquaintance and excite your interest at
the same time. I told you I was Spanish. That
in mother was dead, my father an invalid. I
allhwed you to accomgiriny me home. You call-
ed a sin and a ain. ou learned to love me—
or w at you be ieved me to be; and 1—”

“Stop Isolal” cried Dashing Ned, appeal-
ingly. ‘Don’t say that—don’t say you were
playing a part, then I" ,

“ I must,” responded the young woman, avert-
ing her head. “ I lied when I said that your
love Was returned.”

“But why? if you did not love me, wh did
you lead me on to hope for such happiness 0r
since you did. why not let me dream on? Why
awaken me now?”

“ Because I have grown sick of such constant
deceit. No—I will be perfectly truthful with
you now. That was not the whole reason. Since
then—I have learned what it is to love. I can
realize now the wrong I did you, and as the only
amends I can make, I 0 on your eyes to the
truth. You do not ask 1:; o I love, and I thank
you. It would ain me to refuse you anything
more, and I co (1 not tell you his name.”

“I can guess, Isola. I have not forgotten that
night at the Golden Harvest. You were masked,
bu]: I”knew your veice too thoroughly to mis-
ta e.

“gen lmew—and you treated me as a stran-
er.

“ Was it so strange? I loved you; and so I
trusted you. I felt sure that you would explain
all in ood time.”

“ E ward Conwa ,
I known you as wel
The ast is past. ”

“ ut may it not be recalled, 15013.? You have
known this Mark Bird but a few days. He can
never love you as ardentl as I. Give me
another chance. I can—l Will win your love, if
I onl have—”

“ 0, Edward; there is still another bar I
may1 love, but that is all. I could never disgrace
an onest man by wedding him. I—the out-
law’s daughter!”

“ Isola!’

on are fortunate! Had
fore—but never mind.

 

“Yes; I am the daughter of the man whom
you call the Chaparral Wolf. It was to at at
the secret of your plans against him that made
your acquaintance. Now go—but remember
that I am not wholly to blame. I never knew
a mother’s care; and father—you can guess what
his trainin was.” ‘

“ Isola, . love you, even as his child. Marry
me, and I will take you far away from this
country—”

“I cannot desert my father,” was the law,
firm reply.

“Then I will disbund my men and join him.
You are all the world to me. I cannot give you
up, Isola.”

“ You would do this—gou!" faltered the girl.

“ And gladly—so that have you! Iwill——”

“ No, ou must not. ' I am not worthy. And
then—I ove him. You must try and forget me.
There are others—4’

The sounds of hcav flrin came to their ears
from a distance. Das ing ed started like one
awakiiig from a dream. He felt that his men
had been drawn into an ambush!

CHAPTER XXI.
DOUBLE DAN IN BUSINESS.

IN those first moments Double Don was filled
with a hatred as bloodthirsty and fierce as it
was short lived. He considered Colonel Over-
.ton as his own game, and looked upon the in—
terference of the wayside assassin as a personal
injury to himself. Thus, when he uttered his
yell and leaped forward, won on in hand the
fallen man’s nearest friend con (1 not have een
more thoroughly resolved to avenge his assas-
sination than was the man who had for days
been weaving a halter for his neck.

The assassin fled at full speed, and seemed
winged by fear, but there was one upon his
tract whose muscles of steel had more than
once worn out stunch horses. Foot by foot the
assassin was overhauled. A dozen times had
Double Dan raised his revolver to end the chase
by a shot, but as often had he hesitated. He
kfiietw not who ’niight be lurking within ear-
8 o .

“ They’s more’n one way 0’ killin’ a cat l" he
muttered, as be shifted his grasp from the butt
to the barrel of his heavy revolver, then hurled
the weapon full at the flying figure with all the
force of his sinewy arm.

Stricken fairly between the shoulders the fol-
low plunged heavily forward upon his head. and
the next moment Double Dan alighted upon his
back, both hands closing like a vise upon his
throat.

There was little danger of resistance, as Double
Dan was not slow to perceive. What with the
blow, the solid fell upon his head, and the brief
choking the assassin was senseless two-thirds
dead. When convinced of this, Double Dan
slipped off from the body, turning it over so
that the face became visib e. This wore a mask
of blood and dirt, which the spy lost no time in
wiping away, usinur a handful of grass. Then,
steeping low over fiie body, Double Dan struck
a match and held it close to the face.

“ Waal, I ber-durned!” he ejaculated, starting
back in genuine amazement. “ Ef that don’t
git me! who’d ’a’ thunk it! the p’izen cuss!”

Fair] overcome by the discovery he had
made, ouble Dan drew back, scratching his
head as though in a quandary. This, however,
did not last long. There was too much upon his
hands for him to waste any time.

He bent over the bod once more, this time to
make sure that, thong i alive, his prize would
not be liable to recover his senses too soon. Sat-
isfied with his examination, Double Dan arose
and trotted rapidly along the back trail until
he reached the spot where Colonel Ovcrton had
fallen. His horse was gone, but the half-breed
still lay as he had dropped from the saddle.
The starlight was strong enough for Double Dan
to distinguish the blood that flowed over the
half-breed’s face, and at first glance he believed
Overton had been sliot through the brain. but a
hasty examination proved otherwise. Though
the will of the assassin had been good, his aim
had failed, either from nervousness or some
movement of his intended victim, and the ball
had merely tore its way through the half-breed’s
scalp, above his tern 1e.

Double Dan chuck ed rime as he discovered

this. Though he hated Overton with all his

heart, he would have grieved deeply at his death

aprovided another hand than his own dealt the
ow.

For the second time Double Dan squatted
down beside a senseless bod , and vigorously
scratched his bullethead. usiness was rush-
ing. His hands were so full that he hardly
knew which way to turn first. More than ever
did he wish that he and his “twin-brother”
were not such inseparable companions. If he
could only be in two places at once—!

He ceased irritating his scalp, and a broad
smile grraduall filled out the wrinkles of his
face. be pro lem was solved!

Springing to his feet Double Dan ran swiftly
to t e s ot where he had left the would-be assas-
sin, an hastened to carry out the peculiar
scheme he had formed: Li hting a couple of
matches he closely scrutinize his cs tive from
head to foot. He grasped one of the urge met-

 

16

Beadlfie’rs Dime Library.

 

 

 

al buttons with which the fellow’s jacket was
profuse] studded, and tore it loose, together
with a s red of cloth. He picked up the batter—
ed hat that la near, and drew the long knife
from its sheat . Bearing these in his hand he
ran back to where Overton lay. The button he
forced into the half-breed‘s clenched hand. The
hat he placed beside him; the knife he dropped
a few feet away.

“Ef that don’t do the business, then I don’t
want a. cent!” and his double voice squeaked and
rumbled in high glee. “ When he wakes up, fust
thing he’ll see them things. He’ll know whose
they was. He’ll o fer to git s uar’, an’ right
thar’s whar I’ll pick up the trai a r’in. Good
Lade ef any p’izen critter picks up ouble Dan
fer a fool, he’s goin’ to git left, sure I"

Picking up Overton’s hat, Double Dan hasten—
ed back to his other charge, eager to finish that

of the job. He pulled the hat firmly upon
he man’s head then closely searched his pock-
ets. In one of these he found the well-filled
pocket-book so recently taken from Overton, to—
gether with several papers which had evidentl
come from the same source. Assuring himse t
that the money was Within, Double Dan thrust
all into his breast.

“Now of the p’izen critter’d only git up an’
mosey home. I’d be all right. It’d spilc all ef
hI‘ui'n;’over was to wake up fust aii’ find him

ere. '

Double Dan drew a small flask from his ock—
at and shook it regretfully. Evidently he eem-
ed it a shame to waste good liquor on such an
evil subject. And such a course had its draw—
backs, besides.

“He ain’t quite a fool. He’d want to know
whar the lickei' come from. Good Lawdl the
very thin l He’ll be too bad skeered to think
0’ lookin’ fer Turn-over' I’ll do it!”

Double Dan, nearl choking with merriment

ured a quantity 0 powder into the hollow of

is hand and proceeded to make a “spit-ball ”
about the size of an egg. Into this he inserted
a bit of unk, placing the whole in the right
hand of t e senseless assassin. Striking a match
ue ignited the punk, then hastily withdrew a
few yards, lying down in the tall grass.

He was not kept long in sus ense. The (lamp—
ened powder caught fire and egan spitting and
sputtering at a. eat rate. The assassin stirred
uneasily as the e be an to scorch him, and as
the dryer powder insi e the ball ex loded with
a vivid light, he sprung erect wit a yell of
mingled pain and terror. As Double Dan had
,foreseen, he was too eatly confused to realize
what had occurred, at, guided by instinct, he
took to his heels in blind terror, running away
from he knew not what.

“EE I ain’t too p’izen smart to live I” gasped
Double Dan, almost suffocated with laughter.
“Chain-lightnin’ couldn’t faze that critter! I
reckon he thought he’d woke up in brimstone-
land, sure enough 1”

But Double Dan’s work was not yet finished.
He drew his belt a notch tighter, and with one
keen glance at the le—star, started in a swift,
steady run across t e rairie. Despite the long
distanca he had alrea y traveled upon foot since
eating or slee ing, the scout ran as fresh and
strongly as t ough fatigue was unknown to

' or hour after hour he maintained his
co, never faltering, not once pausing for
reath. The man was one mass of tireless
muscle. He had never met his equal, and to
this day the curious can gather stories of his
marvelous fleetness of foot and matchless en-
durance among the old stagers of the South~
west. Double an is no fanc sketch.

The night was far spent w en Double Dan’s
race was ended. He entered a dense clump of
timber and undergrowth, pausing near its cen-
ter, to utter a Ipeculiar, long-drawn and quaver-
ing whistle. e listened for a reply, but none
came. Twice he re ted the signal, then, with
an exclamation of isgust, he advanced to what
appeared to be a pile of brush and vines. Pull-
inga portion of the latter aside, he opened a
small, stoutdoor and entered a low cunningly-
concealed cabin. Strikin a match he peered
around him. The cabin re traces of recent
occu tion. The light faded and Double Dan

thinking. His disap intment was great.
It was important that he s ould meet the owner
of this secret cabin, yet he had scant time to

lose.

“Mebbe he’ll be in time, yit,” he muttered.
“ I'll lay down an’ ketch a couple or two winks
on the chaiuce.”

Curling up in a pile of dried grass and leaves,
1 cable Dan fell asleep almost immediately. He
 the rare faculty of awakin at just
the minute he had determined upon be orehand,
nor was this case an exception. Day was just
dawnin when he awoke. He was still alone.
He cautiously stepped outside and whistled, but,
as before, without any res use. Re—entering
the cabin, he took down a it of 'erked meat
from a store that hung from the ra ters and be-

eating.
WE! I could only write!” he muttered, anx-

ious] .

But Double Dan was not one long to despair.
As usual 9. hadpfiy tho ht came to his aid.
Grinnin with e ght he kdowu a buck-skin
shirt thEt hung upon the wall, and spread it out

 

before him. Then, laying in a stock of cinders
from 1the rude fireplace, he began painting his
re 01' .

irst he drew what was intended for a man
but in a miraculously distorted position. Just
above this was drawn a bird’s head, with a
snake in its mouth. To the right was a smaller
figure with big e es, 3. wonderful head of hair,
and flowin skir s.

With his ead upon one side, Double Dan eyed
his work with complacent agproval.

“It’s clear as mud, ef I 0 say it! A blind
man could see that that izen critter is turnin’
a summerset, an’ thar’s um’ovcr’s totem—"

He paused abruptly and raised his eyes. The
door was pushed partly open, and a man’s head
entered. It was the face and head of Colonel
Overton, the half-breed!

CHAPTER XXII.
“ TURN-OVER, THE HALF-BREED.”

THERE were few names better known through-
out Texas than that of Colonel Overton, taking
it through its various changes. His fame—or
notoriety—was common to the Whole vast re—
gion west of the Mississippi river. A hundred
men had sworn his death at as many different
times, and as many attempts had been made to
keep these oaths. But Satan seemed to befriend
his own, and at the date of this story the bor-
der scourge was still alive and pursuing his ca.-
reer of crime and cruelty. His name and some
of his deeds have found a place in a. dozen or
more books of Western travel, but as yet no

erfect record of his life has been given. Part-
y as a curiosity of reckless daring and crime,
partly because he has layed a prominent part
in this hasty record, I ve collected the main
points of his eventful career, and transcribed
them here, simply premising that what follows
is history, and can be substantiated, if neces-

sary.

About the year 1815, a Spanish or Mexican
trader settled among the Kiowas, at the foot of
the Green Mountains. He took a squaw from
his adopted tribe and by her had one child, the
subject of this s etch. Not satisfied with the
legitimate profits of his profession, this trader—
w ose name is lost—indulged largely in horse-
stealing and even less harmless lpursuits, more
than once leading a fora. into t e settlements
of the rovince of Santa e; and it was durin
one 0 these raids that he was captured an
hung. The Kiowas took possession of his pro-
perty, which was considerable, but, from some
cause now unknown, drove away his squaw and
child. Two or three years later she turned u
as the squaw of a Canadian voya eur, name
Baptiste La'oie. The young half- reed grew
up stout an of a noble resence; but the black
drop was in his heart. e became an adept in
the use of weapons and trappers’ implements,
and young as he was, was known far and wide
for his strength, activity and skill in every ath-
letic sport, as well as or his remarkable pro-
flciency in prairie lore.

Lajoie, during one of his trapping expeditions,
found a rich tplacer of gold, and in an unlucky
hour resolve to take his adopted son with him
to St. Louis to taste of the pleasures and dissi-
pations of civilized life. he youth seemed
overgog'ed, and eagerlyr drank in the trapfier’s
flori escriptions- an with them came a rk
deadly resolve, which was afterward carried out.
Baptiste Lajoie never reached St. Louis, but his
ado ted son did, and that son was loaded down
wit gold.

For a. few weeks the half-breed drank his fill
of low brutish dissipation; but then a curious
freak took possession of his mind. He resolved
to play the part of a (gentleman; and to do this
pro rly, he resolve to go to school! Repre-
sen ing himself as the son of a Cuban planter,
he entered a private school, and evincing a
wonderful aptitude for learning, soon caught up
with and passed his companions. During a
this time—nearly two years—his conduct in and
out of hours would have borne the closest scru-
tiny. He was a. model of uprightness and pro-
priety.

Having finished his course of training, the
half-breed made his debut in socie as the only
son and heir of a Spanish gran ee. Darkly
grandly handsome, he playgd his part well, an
was the lion of the year. 8 became the leader
of a certain fast set, and easil kept his purse
well supggied, thanks to his ski l in mani ulat-
ing car and dice. He won the bee. of a
wealthy youn lady, and the weddin<r da was
set. But on t at day the “Spanish Don ’ was
a fugitive from justice. He had been detected
in cheating at cards, and when accused, buried
his knife in the unfortunate man’s heart. The
friends of the murdered man attempted his or-
rest, but with knife and pistol he foiled them,
leaping through the second-story window, leav—
ing three dead men behind him. Strange to
say, he escaped without a. scratch, and though
he was hunted hotly by the oflicers of justice,
he gave them the slip and took to the plains to
avoid punishment.

From that day on, his career was one of un-
blushi‘ng treacher and crime. Tired of civil-
ized life, he bong t a stock of “notions” and
set ii as an Indian trader. Aaain wearying of
this, 0 lived on indolent life with the Indians,

 

tolerated by them because of his services as an
interpreter during their barterings with the
whites. But he changed from tribe to tribe so
often that the traders dubbed him “ Turn-over,”
which, by a natural transition, became Over-
turn, then Overton‘ he himself added the title
of colonel, when the English Fur Company,
from Canada, employed him as their agent at
high wages. Here again Turn-over played a
double art, cheating both his emplo ers and
the Indians with whom he traded c caring a
large fortune before his double-dealing was
found out. He made many bitter enemies
among the Indians whom he had defrauded,
and many attempts were made on his life. One
and all of these were foiled. Upon three of
these occasions he killed his attempted assassin
and to guard against the fury and vengeance of
their kindred, he was forced to enlist and main-
tain a strong band of men who accompanied
him everywhere.

When I‘urn-over was discharged and super-
seded by the Fur Company, he made off with his
spoils, and tired of the never-ceasing vigilance
necessary to guard against death, he left the
plains for New Orleans, where he soon became
celebrated as Colonel Overton.

His career here was an exaggerated repetition
of his life in St. Louis, but he was more careful
to keep Without the clutches of the law. He
paid court to the heiress of one of the richest
estates in Louisiana, and married herwithin the
year. Possessed now of almost unlimited wealth,
Overton displayed a boundless extravagance
that made his name a. wonder throughout the
entire land, and he and his beautiful bride be-
came one of the principal attractions of the
Crescent City.

Three months later he was seen and recog-
nized by a cousin of the man whom he had slain
at the card-table in St. Louis, and romptly ar-
rested. While lying in prison awaiting a requi-
sition from the Governor of Missouri, Overton
once more escaped his merited doom. The rela-
tives of his wife were very proud and felt the
impendin disgrace keenly. Satisfied that, if
taken to t. Louis, Overton would most assured-
gbe found guilty—for he freely confessed to

em that the charge was true—they lavished
their tiglold with an unsparing hand, and bribing
the o cials, succeeded in gettin Overton clear
of the prison walls. But this 'd not content
them. While he lived, disgrace would stare
them in the face at every turn. Better that he
should die; and so it was decided. ‘

Overton was placed in a boat, and told that a
vessel was waiting for him, in which he was to
seek safety on the Continent until the storm
blew over. The night was dark and stormy
when the little skiff left the wharfafulled by
the father and brother of the oung w' 9. Over-
ton suspected nothing, untilt e brother dro'p d
his our and shot him through the breast. fign
he made a desperate struggle for life, but the
odds were too great, unarmed he was. Three
times was he shot, and stabbed as often; then
the boat was upset by the furious struggle, and
all three were precipitated into the angry wa-
ters. Overton managed to regain the overturn-
ed skiff, and lashed himself fast, then he swoon-
ed away.

It was a week later when he returned to life.
He had drifted far from landin the furious gale
and was picked pip by a Spanish trader boun
for Galveston. e was landed at that port and
left at a sailors’ lodging-house, without a cent of
money. Vhen he recovered sufficiently, he
paid his best by tending bar, until he was out of
debt. While thus engaged he formed the ac-
gfiuaintance of several professed traders with the

exicaiis, and had httle difficulty in gaining
their confidence.

He had a run of luck at the gaming-tables,
and joined the traders as an e ua.l partner.
With a. train of goods they starte for Chihua-
hua. Disposing of their oods, the company ap-

red in their real co ors; as land pirates.
hey captured two silver convoys, and com-
mitted so many atrocities that the country soon
became too hot for them. By mutual agree-
ment they disbanded and div1ded their spoils.
Each one was to seek safety in his own way.
Overton’s course was a characteristic one. Hid-
ing his plunder he sou ht out the chief of the
forces sent out a ainst t em, and offered to sur-
render his comr es on condition that he was par-
doned his offenses. This treacherous proposal was
promptly accepted. Overton faith uilfy carried
out his part of the programme, and ter com—
placently witnessing the death b the garrote
of his late comrades in Mexico, e carried his.
luuderto Texas. Heading for Santa Fe, he
fell in with a com any of traders with whom he
had had dealings in the past. Drinking freely,
he told his story without any reservation. That
night the traders robbed him of horse, mules,
lunder‘and all, leaving him naked and weapon-
ess upon the prairie, as they behaved, dead.

But fate had a still more horrible death in
stroe for him. He recovered his senses, and for
three days crawled over the prairie upon his
hands and knees, his only food bein grass and
such insects and reptiles as be can] catch. At
the end of that time he was found b a party of
Indians, who nmed him back to to. He re-
paid them by running ofltheirstock lnthe night!

 

 

 

-9,“

- thingi”

Equality Eph.

1'7

 

 

CHAPTER XXIII.
A GORDON or FIRE.

Tim favorincr breeze bore to their ears the
sounds that tol' so much and, startled, the out-
law’s daughter and the hunger captain for al-
most the first time since their peculiar interview
began, looked each other squarely inthe face.
Missouri Belle’s face flushed scarlet, then faded
to an ashy paleness, but her clear eyes never
faltered nor changed expression.

“ Your friends and my friends are fighting,"
she said, in a rapid, decisive tone. “ I can see
what your sus icions are. You believe that I
decoyed you ither so that your men might
prove an easier prey. Let it go at that. It will
make it all the easier for you to forget that
such a person ever lived as I. Gol your men are
hard pressed; they need our strong arm. Go,
Edward Conway; and god’s blessmg go with
youl

There was an intense earnestness in her voice
that thrilled through Dashing Ned’s every fiber,
and half mad with strongly conflictin passions,
he started forward with outstretche arms as
though to clasp the blessing to his heart. But
fiissouri Belle drew back with an imperious ges—

re.

“ No—the past is dead. If ever we meet again
it must be as stran ers. Go! your men need
you. I charge you y the love you once bore
me, not to attempt to follow me. That would
only bring sorrow to us both. Go! and pray
Heaven that we may never meet a ain I”

As she spoke, Missouri Belle touc ed her mus-
tang sharply with the 8 ur, and plunged into
the timber. Dashing De started as in pursuit,
but at the second leap he reined in his horse.
Once more the fresh breeze bore to his ears
the reports of firearms, and this sound recalled
him to a sense of his duty. With an impatient
gesture be brushed one hand across his e es as
though to banish the weird spell that had und
him, then turned his horse and thundered down
toward the s ot from whence the reports of fire-
arms proc ed.

As alread stated when Dashin Ned started
in ursuit o the 'ri whom he ha known onl
as sole Alvarez, e left his men in char 6 of his
lieutenant, John Sullivan. A stouter- carted,
braver man never lived than this same “Bull-
dog Jack. He never knew the meaning of the
word fear, as applied to himself. Like the ani-
mal after whom he was named, when Sullivan
closed with an enemy, it was a death—grapple.
But this blind ferocity was his sole quahfication
for command. It rendered him a favorite with
the hard-flghtin Texans, but on this occasion,
at least, it was 9 cause of a severe misfortune,
to say no more.

Their fiercest passions aroused by the loss of
several ood men, and by the taste of blood the
flyin skirmish had 'ven them, the Rangers
watc ed the chase wit anything but pleasant
sensations. They knew that this delay was un-
wise; that it mightbe the means of defeatin
the purpose to which they had devoted seve
months of arduous work. With ever?r moment
the Cha srral Wolf and his men were mprovin
their vantage. It was hard, this enforce
idleness, when one bold stroke might insure them
the longed-for triumph.

Amon those who chafed most was Fred
Meyer, t e scout. He, like many another then

resent, had good cause for hating the Wolves.
Bess than one month previous his younger
brother, a. fine, open-heartedlad, hadbeen found
hanging from a tree, dead. From the “sign”
around, there was little doubt as to who were
his murderers. And beside the co , Fred
Meyer swore a solemn oath to never ow rest
until he had exacted a heavy price for that
young life. .

For a few minutes he chafed in silence, but
then, as he read the ill-disguised impatience of
the lieutenant, he addresse Sullivan:

“ The cap'n didn’t say nothin’ a ’inst sending
glut scouts, lefitenant. Tblzey’spoo Eggnivzlge

emsli rmmay lip-ere
take 3 lg; %’ tn};s boys an’ go on ahead. _We
kin blaze the trail so you won’t lose any time
when the boss comes back, but kin come up
hot-foot.”

Sullivan looked doubtin ly at the scout. A
good follower, he was no cedar, and scarcely
able to form a. judgment of his own. Meyer
knew this, and made the most of the knowl-
edge. Taking the consent for granted, he added:

I’ll jest take hate a dozen o’ the boys, in
case we run upon the imps. so we kin hold ’em
ontel you kin come up. We’ll leave the trail
plain enough for on. Ef the boss hadn’t bin
m sech a hurry, e’d told us to do jest this

W ile he was speaking Meyer selected his
men, nine in number, one of W cm he chose to
act u scout in conjunction with himself, and
followed by the ei ht men, leading the two
scouts’ horses, the ttle struck ra. idly
across the opening upon t e trail of the Snap-
arral Wolves.

Though so ardent in the chase, Meyer was not
a man to neglect all caution, and as they drew
within gun-shot of the timber, he bade the
horsemen draw rein, adVancing with his broth-
er scout to make sure that no ambush was
placed to command the point where the trail en-

 

tered the dense under owth. The spot was a
favorable one for sue a purpose, and a few
determined men could have inflicted a heavy
IJSS upon any unsuspecting enemy.

With less caution than a perfectly cool scout
would have displayed, Meyer assured himself
that the timber was untenantcd save by himself
and his comrade. He had scarcely e cted
otherwise, as the spot was too favorable or an
ambush, not to be looked u on with suspicion
by a pursuer, and he also elt that Equality
Eph was shrewd enough to know this as well as

c.

“He knowed we’d not pass b without fust
takin’ a scout, an’ he utt in his best licks to
gain ground,” muttere Meyer, disgustedly, as

e returned to the edge of the o ning and sig-

naled his men to advance. “’ ain’t no ways
likely he’s goin’ to stop this side 0’ the hole he’s
aimin’ for. He’ll count on our s’archin’. the
bresh closely; an’, wuss luck! we’ve got to do it,
tool”

The case was one that would have revoked a
less interested person than Meyer. f he were
to proceed according to the rules of good scout-
ing, by first feelin the ground before passing
over it, there was t 6 risk of losing their game
altogether by being out aced. On the contrary,
by pressing ahead wit out due regard to pru—
dence, there was the probabilitly of running into
an ambush, when their over- aste might well
prove fatal.

Thus buffeted first by his longin for revenge,
then b his experience as a scout, eyer event-
ually ost his head and followed a medium
course; too fast for a thorough feelin _of the
trail, too slow for the purpose of over mg the
enemy supposing they had pressed forward
without an delay.

The tra' was narrow and winding. But a
sin le horseman or two footmen could pass com-
for bl at a time. Meyer led the way, the
other gers being strung out in a. long line.
At a point where the trail made a sudden bend
to the east and assed through a miniature
glade a dozen yar s in diameter, the trap was
sprungl upon them.

Goo judgment had been ' layed in select-
ing the point for, as well as in orming the am«
buscade. The trail led through the little glade,
where the soil was such that a single straggling
footpfi‘int would have been instantly detected.
But quality Eph had pressed on past this spot,
sending his men into the bushes several rods
further on, with orders to cautiously fall back
and surround the little lade.

Meyer and his rother scout were per-
mitted to pass by, in order to brings he cutest
possible number of men into the tOi . en the
signal was given. A dozen rifles covered the
five men whose line filled the little lade, and at
the word a deadly volley was disc arged that
laid men and horses dead \ipon the blood-stain-
ed ound. Then with w d, triumphant ells
the elves broke cover, hoping to carry a] be-
fore them by one decisive effort.

In that terrible moment, when one-half of
their number were dead, and the underbrush
seemed fairly alive with their relentless foemeu,
the surviving Rangers nobl sustained their
well-won re utation of har fl hters. There
was never a bought of flight. ith knife and
pistol they met the onset, too closely pressed to
use their rifles. With the roar of an angry bull,
Meyer turned and blindly charged 11 n his ene-
mies. One minute later he la dea beside his
comrades; but not unaveng . He had sent
three Wolves before him.

It would be hard to es. which part had been
the most astonished. e outlaws {ound they
had sp their cunning trap, not upon the en-
tire bod. , ut upon the advance rd, as they
supposed: knowing that t e other Ran-
gers could not be far behind, knowing too theta
second surprise would be impllossible, they has-
tened from the spot, each in 's own way not
daring to encounter the Rangers on anything
like equal terms.

Lieutenant Sullivan heard the firing and at
once dashed to the rescue, reaching the scene of
death in less than five minutes later. Just as
the entered the Elade, one of the outlaws, who
h been left for and, had recovered sufficient-
ly to bobble away; but he was seen just as he
entered the bus es, and a score of rifle-balls
were sent after him.

This was the second firing which Dashing Ned
heard the moment after Missouri Belle con-
tinued her flight.

Half an hour’s hard riding brought him to the
scene of death. The dead alone ocoupied the
little glade. And as Dashing Ned gazed upon
the mutilated bodies, he felt that onl for his
insane love, these men might not have 'ed.

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE BLACK SWAMP REFUGE.

ON leavin Dashing Ned, the outlaw’s daugh-
ter rode bar and Ian , not as though she fear-
ed pursuit, but With 1: e air of one who sought
to ride away from her own disagrees le
thoughts.

It was as she had confessed. Her acquaint-
ance with the young captain of Rangers had
been planned with an e e to one end; the wel-
fare of the band led by quality Eph. The out-

 

 

law had one trusty friend in the company—he
whom the reader has met as James Brown—but
Dashing Ned was one who let his plans develop
thenlse ves rather than one of those who freely
air their arrangements beforehand, and Brown
was not always able to learn of an intended
search in time to warn his real friends. To
guard a ainst this danger the outlaw chief call-
ed his c ild’s beauty and address into play.
Dashing Ned made an easier captive than was
expected. His love was like his own heart, Wide
and unsuspicious, and Missouri Belle found lit-
tle difllculty in extractin all his secrets. And
the blind devotion of the andsome Ranger was
beginning to undermine the defenses of her
heart,when, on the day of the festival, as stated,
she met Mark Bird for the first time, when the
cousins saved her life; for the stripling dressed
in Mexican clothes whom they rescued from
the infuriated rizzly was none other than Mis-
souri Belle. S e it was that rode the gallant
gray steed to victory, her own pet charger, that
would obey no other voice or and' and she it
was who whis red the words in Mark Bird’s
earthat took im to the Golden Harvest that
night, where she met him as the pink domino.
She was powerless under the influence of a
mighty love that seemed the work of mag?
She could do nothing but follow its dicta ,
though love was not her only object in meeting
Mark that ni ht. What the other purpose was,
the sequel wi show.

It was late in the afternoon when Missouri
Belle neared the spot where she expected to find
her father. For nearly an hour she had been
winding her way through wild and gloomy
masses of timber. The ound was black and
swam y; the undergrowt luxuriantlyrank and
diflic t to traverse. Had one been unexpected-
ly set down in this spot, he would have behaved
himself in a Southern swamp near the coast, in-
stead of in the heart of an upland country. A
swamp it was, nevertheless; and Black Swnm
had an evil name for man a mile aroun
There were wild and su ers itious stories told
of the strange and horrib e animals and reptiles
whose haunts were dec in those gloomy recesses.
The Indians shunned t e spot as bad medicine.
A more secure refuge Equality Eph could not
have found in Texas.

Yet he did not trust entirely to the po ular
fears and superstitions. As Missouri elle
slowly picked her way over the intricate trail
by which alone the ,island refuge could be
reached, as the outlaws behaved, she was re-
peatedly challegfied b watchful sentinels. The
spotted pony h -waded, half-swam across the
narrow channel, and the oung woman found
herself fairly within the “ en.’

Giving her pony into charge of the first man

she met, Missouri Belle instantly sought out her
father. She found him lying down, e and
haggard. Only partially recovered rom his
accilent, that day’s work had told upon him se-
vere . .
“Here at last!” he exclaimed, querulously.
“I ttali‘pught yfi'gid were never comifigih Ithalf-ex-
pec you ' run away wit a young
thief, Dashing Ned!"

“ I came as soon as I could, father,” r nd-
ed the girl, in a low weary tone. “I p ayed
my part through. I led him away as I prom-
ised; but if it was all to do over again, I would
rather die l”

E uality Eph eyed his daughter keenly then
laug ed, sneeringly. Thong he said no 'n ,
there was that in his face that stun Be 0
sharply. Her eyes flashed angrily, but t on she
arose and left the brush hut without a word.

Wea though she was from her long and
harld ri e, she seemgd unaéllille to  [so an
out aw was y, wi 13. res w,
she checked  answer to her questions he
five her a terse report of all that had occurred.

e ambushed men had not at come in, though
it was believed that their p u had succeeded.
Yes, the three captives were safe; and he point-
ed out to her the we cabins in which they were
confined. '

Missouri Belle thanked him and started on.
Her mind was. busy, and not all on easant
thoughts. Until now, despite the wil , preca-
rious life she had led for as long as she could
remember, she had scarcely known what un-
happiness or sorrow meant. She had beenal-
lowed her own way in everything. The men

almost worshi her. Everything had given
way to her ensure. But now—and her fair
brow cloud as she remembered the events of

that mornin 's ride from the chaparral village,
when, for a cw minutes, the three captives were

or.
ith a. sudden resolve she paused before one

of the huts and demanded admittance of the
man who stood before the door. If he hesitated
it was but for a moment. The door swung open
and Missouri Belle entered. .
There was but one occupant, who arose as the
outlaw’s daughter entered. Without a word
Belle advanced and lacing her hands upon
Minnie Lamb’s sho ders, tin-nod her around
until the full lifigt fell upon her face. The fair
maiden would ve shrunk back, but there was
a wonderful power in those little brown hands,

and though her face flushed hotly, she was ,

forced to endure that long, keen inspection.

WW __.._......._-

mum

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

l8

 

“ You are indeed Iovel , child,” said Missouri
Belle, as she at length re eased her captive; and
there was a sober, almost stern shade upon her
face as she spoke. “It is a face that some men
would ro crazy over. And yet, it is but a doll’s
face, w en all is said. Look at me, child; look
at me closely. You are lovely, as I said, but
am I less so?’

Minnie shrunk back, but the brilliant black
eyes held her gaze as a serpent charms the flut-
tering bird.

“ I do not understand you—you frighten me!”
she murmured. »

Missouri Belle laughed, low and mockingly.
This timidit pleased her. She had never
learned that hold hearts are oftener caught in
silken meshes than in chains of steel, finely
wrought though the last may be.

“Poor little dove!” she uttered, more kindly.
“Better for you Were you not so tender. You
would suffer ess. I wish I could save you from
that bad man.”

“You can—you surely have the power! You
look good and true. ’lake or send me back
home, and I will bless and pray for you—”

“ I would if I could, but dare not interfere.
It may not be so bad. Overton is a. black-
hearted wretch, but he cannot mean you any

eat harm. There—I can stop no longer.

0 not despair; I will aid you if I can.”

As though fearing to wait longer, Missouri
Belle left the but and slowly approached the
second cabin. She cast a half-apprehensive
glance toward the place where Eqfiiality Eph
rested, then bade the guard admit er. In si-
lence be obeyed, and the next moment she stood
in the resence of Mark Bird and Kirke How-
ard. ey were bound hand and foot, lyin in
an uncomfortable position. Belle sprimg or—
ward on the im ulse of the moment and severed
their bonds, bi ding them arise.

“No,” she said, in a tone of genuine regret.
“ I cannot give you further libert , dearly as I
would like. W'ere you to pass t at door, you
would be shot down without mercy. But at
least you shall not suffer the degradation of
bonds, while I can help it.”

“You come like an angel of mercy, lady,”
said Kirke Howard, an unusual earnestness in
his tones, that caused Mark to open his big e es
and utter a low whistle. “ I am very grate ul.
I wish you could understand how much.”

“ No more—thanks,” said Belle, with a haugh-
ty bow; then turning toward Mark: “ And you,
831‘? not a word to sa 2”

“I repeat the wor s of my cousin, and hearti-
ly. But,” and his voice grew more earnest, “ I
trust that the lady—Miss Lamb—has met with
more courteous treatment?”

“What is she to you?” sharply demanded
Belle. “ Have you not troubles enou h of your
own without wasting ym athy on at ers?’

“The fact that she is a. y should be a suf-
ficient excuse,” quietly responded Mark.

“You have met her before. Your close at-
tention this morning would be proof sufficient,
even if I had not seen you dining with her, that
day, at San Antonio. What do you know of
herf what connection is there between you?”

“I only know that she is a lady, ure and
sweet as an angel. It will not be my ault if I
do not know her better in the future,” coolly ut-
tered Mark.

“ You love her !”- nted Missouri Belle.

“I do—and prou I am to own it!”

“You dare—you dare tell me this? Ah! I
hate you—I hate her! 1—”

Missouri Belle stamped her little foot in
speechless rage, then turned and fled from the
cabin, leaving the cousins amazed at her wild
outburst. Nor would their wonder have been
lessened could they have witnessed her further
actions. .

Passing swiftly throu h the little group of
huts, the girl flung horse down at the edge of
the water. Burying her face upon her arms she
gave way to a. passionate burst of tears, her
whole frame quivering like a leaf with the vio-
lence of her emotions.

She lay thus until twil' ht deepened into
night, then arose and procee ed toward her fa-
ther’s cabin. Just as she gained the entrance, 8.
wild 'ell arose from within, and the door
0 n A dark form sprung u 11 her, and
lifting her from her‘feet, rushe toward the
water. But the outlaws, alarmed sprung up
on every side. Drawing a. knife he placed it
against her bosom. . _

“Raise a. weapon and she dies!” he cried.
“Make way, there!"

CHAPTER XXV.
MONEY on DEATH!

THROUGHOUT the night Colonel Overton 13y
where he had fallen beneath the assassm’s b -
let like one dead. _ .

His horse, recovered from its affright and
tired of grazing, stood beside its stran ely still
master, now and then whim ring so_t1y as it
bent its head and touched the lood—stained face
that stared blindly up to the paling stars. But
despite appearances e was alive, and the cool
morning breeze was rapidly restoring  con-
sciousness. The light of reason shone in his
eyes, and with a faint groan he grasped the

 

forelock of the faithful horse and with its assist-
ance stood erect.

For a time all was a painful blank, and he
stared arouan him with eyes that saw nothin .
But the exertion of arismg had reovened his
wound, and as the warm blood trick ed down
his face and dropped upon his hand one by one
the events of the past night came back to him
in swift succession, ending with that blinding
sheet of flame and bcnumbing pain.

“ I was shot—but by whom?” he muttered,
clearing his eyes and looking around. “Who
did it—and for what—”

The truth flashed upon him as he remembered
thelarge sum of money he had received from
Mr. Marvin. A hissinm curse parted his lips as
he thrust a hand into his bosom. The pocket-
book was gone. Like magic his bodily strength
and mental powers were restored. A dark,
deadly shade crept over his face as he caught
sight of the battered sombrero. He snatched
it u . There was a small, silver image pinned
to t 6 front; the effigy of a saint.

“ He wore one—but so do a thousand others,”
muttered Colonel Overton. “And yet—who
else could have known that I had money? And
he knew that I held his life in my hand. Terror
Will make a coward des )erate— ’

A bell-shaped golden utton lay at his feet: a
shred of blue broadcloth was attached. And,
just beyond, the brass handle of a knife shone
amid the grass. Brighter and more snake-like

'leamed the half-breed’s eyes. His heavy mus-
ache curled and bristled until his white, wolfish
teeth learned startlingly white.

He row the but over his head, around which
he had wound his handkerchief. The knife he
placed in his boot the button in an inner ock-
et._ He crouched low down and searcher the
ground foot by feet. He saw where the assassin
had stood when he fired the treacherous shot. He ,
saw where the short, heavy rifle had fallen in
the grass, and closely scrutinized the weapon.
It was unloaded; beyond this fact there was no-
thing to identify it with the attempted assassin—
ation.

“The dog was cool enough to rob me; then
why did he leave so many and such damning
proofs of his identity? I cannot understand it, ’
itnuttered Overton, as he resumed his investiga-
ions.

_ He could tell that the assassin had fled at
speed; and he saw that he had not been alone.
In places the tracks were covered by a larger,
broader footprint. He found the spot where the
torn and. tram led grass betokened a fierce
stru gle. He band the ends of two matches
that ad been ignited. He searched further and
saw that two men had left the s ot, each going
at speed; but the trails led most at right-
an es.
or a full minute Overton stood in mood

doubt. Which one of these men had taken his
money? or had they divided their plunder?

“ at will do!” he muttered, as he whistled
to his horse. “ I know where to find him, with-
out picking up the trail. I can learn the truth
from him; it will be the shortest way.”

He sprung lightly into the saddle and galloped
in a strai ht line for San Marcos. The discov-.
ery he ‘ made and a burning lust for revenge
restored his strength like magic, and he seemed
none the worse for the past mght.

He pressed his good horse on at full speed nor
drew rein until he dashed up to the door of the
inn ke t by Juan Tierra. A wizened, smoke-
dried exican met him at the bar-room door,
bowing and ducking like some outlandish auto-
maton. .

“ here is Juan Tierra!” demanded Overton,
sternly.

“ In bed, excellency,” bowed the man-a .
“ He is very ill. He near] died last night. he
holy father has 'ust left him. Ah! if he should
die! there woul be one more saint in heaven!"

“May that sad day never come!” and Over-
ton showed his pointed teeth. “ But even were
be dead and buried, I bring him news that would
cheat the }grave were it as deep as a well. For
two days ave I ridden and my spur has never
dried. Go tell Juan Tierra that— Stop! I
will bear him the grand word in self. It is lit—
tle enough reward for my terrib e ride, to wit-
ness the cod, noble saint-like man’s delight.
You will s ow me to his bedsidc. And that we
may not be dry and empty in our rejoicings,
bring two bottles of your best brandy.’

The man-monkey did not for a moment sus-
pect the good faith of the retended messen er,
so adroitly did Overton p ay his art, and ost
no timeinprocuring the liquor rom his mas-
ter’s private store. Knocking. ofll the neck of
one bottle, Overton drank long and thirstily;
then he handed the remainder to the waiter,
sa ng:

‘ rink your master’s good health in that. Just
tell me which is his room. I know the house
well. There may some customers come in, and
you should be at your ost.”

The man-monkey di as directed, and follow-
ing his r0 9.] customer, pointed out the door of
the chain r where Juan Tierra la , then hasti—
ly retreated to finish the bottle of randy.

Colonel Overton noiselessly opened the door
and quickly stepped inside, a cocked pistol in
his hand. But there was little need of such pre—

 

caution. The landlord lay upon a low cot,
sleepiniheavily. Overton closed and barred the
door. aying bottle and istol upon the table
he turned over the clothes t at Tierra had slipped
off. He found that one button was missing from
the jacket. In one corner of the room he found
his own hat, the soft brim of which was bullet—
pierced.

He folded the jacket lengthwise and sudden-
ly clapped it over the mouth of the sleeper. at
the same time straddling the cot, thus holding
his victim beyond all possibility of making an
alarm. The Mexicans eyes filled with an
unutterable horror as he recognized that dark,
handsome face, now glowing like that of a.
veritable fiend.

“Move but a muscle—dare to utter a word
above your breath, Juan of the broken knife,
and I will ga your ‘aws with your own black
heart!” hisse the half—breed, and the demoniac
1i ht in his eyes told that this was noidle threat.

olding the Mexican’s own knife before his
eyes, Colonel Overton removed the jacket,
though he still retained his position astride of
his prey. Reaching over he grasped the bran-
dy ottle and clipped its head off with the back,
0' his knife. Swallowing a portion of its con—
tents ho forced the landlord to drink also.

“ ow, Juan the Devil, let’s to business. I
su pose you can ess Why I am here?”

he landlord s owl shook his head. Over—
ton laughed softly. here was a deeper malig-
nity in such a laugh than a dozen oaths could
have conveyed.

“Listen. I will tell you. I was murdered,
last night. There were two men concerned in
it. They shot me here; because I had 3. 00d
sum of mone , I suppose. But they were un-
glers, for on y my scalp suffered, though I fell
like one dead. They robbed me, these two men.
I cannot afford to lose so much. You must help
me to recover the money. I give you five min-
utes in which to do this. If you fail—then I
shall kill you. See?”

“I know nothing—how should I?” faltered
the trembling wretch, in a whisper.

“I did not tell you all. One of these mur-
derers left his hat, his knife, his sombrero be—
side me. I have them here. Do you not recog—
nize them?”

Again Tierra shook his head as Overton
showed him the three articles. But he turned
even more ghastly than before, and his terror-
stricken features betrayed him.

“Bah! am I a fool? I followed your trail
here. I have seen you wear this hat and knife.
I matched this button and re with our torn
jacket. And there lies my at, w ich you
must have snatched up in mistake for your own;
and in it is the mark of your bullet. Tell me
where you have hidden the money—tell me who
was your accomplice and where can find him.
Tell me this, or by the heavens above! I’ll bury
this knife to the hilt in your foul heart!"

“I did not, senor—he robbed me, too! He
took the money. I do not know where he is. I
never saw him—

Overton laughed, sneer-ingly.

“I give you three minutes, by the watch.
Confess everything, restore the money you
robbed me of, or die.”

Holding the open watch in one hand and the
bared knife suspended before the landlord’s eyes,
Overton quietly told off the fast-fleeting seconds.
There was a deadly determination written upon
every feature, and Tierra knew that he was
doomed. Unless—

All was still without. There was no ho of
help from that quarter unsummoned, an the
first attempt at outc would bring down that
threatening blade. ut the jeweled butt of a.
knife glimmered in the half-breed’s belt. If he-
could only reach it!

Inch by inch his hand stole down. He be an
to hope. But Overton closed his watch. he
time was up!

Tierra made a desperate gras at the knife, at
the same time uttering a wil yell for help.
Only one. The knife descended and buried its
length in his heart!

CHAPTER XXVI.
AN ENEMY IN CAMP.

SWIFT and sure the half-breed struck, sending
the sharp-pointed blade with all his force to its
haft in the screaming wretch’s bosom. There
was no need to repeat the stroke. The heart of
Juan Tierra was cleft in twain.

With the blood—dripping weapon clutched in
his hand, Colonel Overton sprung to the floor
his head bent in listening. A single moment
was enough. There were loud, excited voices
and the sounds of hurrying feet, rushing toward
the room where he stood. The cry of the land-
lord for help had been heard and was being only
toghprompt y answered.

is was more than Overton had counted up-
on. Such prompt action upon a startling sur-
prise was foreign to the Mexican nature, as his
6 erience went. He had anticipated no diffi-
c ty in leaving the inn, and ere the inmates
reahzed the truth, be expected to be fairly clear
of the town. .

But the man—monkey was quite as fond of se-
cretsas he was of liquor at another’s expense
and scenting an advantage to himself, he had

 

 

 

 

 

‘,‘"* MW .

 

Eqselitr Eph-

 

19

 

 

made use of the same loophole through which
Double Dan spied upon Overton. The excite-
ment into which he was thrown by what he saw,
can be imagined. For a few moments he was
spellbound. Then, remembering that his wages
were in arrears, he stole away to raise the alarm
and rescue his paymaster. '

To this fact was owing the surprise which met
Overton as he flung open the door of the death-
chamber. A dozen men filled the narrow pas-
sageway, all armed, a truly desperate prospect.
Overton cast a glance across the room. The one
window was substantiall barred. To force an
opening would take too long. There was only
one course open to him; and that course he took
without further hesitation.

The revolver in his left hand spoke twice in
swift succession, followed by wild yells and
great confusion among the retainers of the inn.
Then, like a human cata ult, the half-breed
charged through the vail 01 blue smoke, plying
a knife with one hand and pistol-butt with the
other, adding to the wild uproar with a shrill
Comanche war-whoop. The douglity servants
fell before his rush like ten-pins before a skillful
bowler, some wounded, some stricken senseless,
but the majority from sheer fright and the shock
of that impetuous rush.

A derisive cheer announced Overton’s arrival
at the door; the next moment he was seated
upon his good steed, thundering down the nar-
row street with drawn revolvers ready to second
his quick eye in case of need.

But few of the natives seemed afoot, and
those who were contented themselves with a
quiet stare and shrug of the shoulders. It was
no new thing to see a drink-crazed man “ play-
ing circus” in San Marcos, and few of the in-
habitants were patriotic enough to even attempt
putting down such a nuisance.

Unmolested, Colonel Overton rode clear of
the town, keeping his animal at speed until San
Marcos faded from view. Then subsiding into
a quiet trot, he gave his mind over to deep
thi‘liight' to 1! th past ‘ ht t b1 d h'

e m s ry o 6 mg rou 9 1m
sorely. {Io knew now that Juan Tierra had not
kept the money for which he had attemdpted
murder. Covetous though he was the lan 0rd
loved life even more dearly, and would have
tried to bu off his destro or, had he the stolen
money. nd yet—why ad he not betrayed
who was his confederate? A faint suspicion of
the truth—that he had been dogged by two per-
sons, the second of whom had robbed the rob-
her—dawned upon his mind, but Overton dis-
missed the notion as soon as conceived. It was
too improbable. ,

“Well,” he muttered, finally, arousing and
touching up his horse, “there is no use grum-
bling over what can’t be helped. There’s more
money where that came from and I’ll trike the
old fellow for a bigger stake, that’s all. N ow for
E uality Eph! The game would be but half-won
if; 9 fails to take the bait.” _ .

Colonel Overton did not spare his willing
horse, but pressed on at togspeed for the ren-
dezvous of the Cha arral o ves eager to .ar-
range the final pre iminaries to his diabolical

lot. While keeIping a. close look-out against
gelling in with ashing Ned’s Rangers—whom
he knew to be scouting somewhere in the Vicini-
t —0verton never drew rein until he reached
the dense chaparral, where, early that same
morning, the wolves and mastifls had tested
their powers.

The torn and trampled ground, the Is of
coagulated blood, together with more t an one
corpse, told Overton what had transpired. His
face grew dark and anxious. What had been.
the result? He feared the worst, smce it was
easy to see that the fight had led steadily to-
ward the outlaw village.

“ If the girl is but safe!” he muttered, “ Un-
less I keep faith with the Kiowa this time my
day in Texas is over. Whirlwmd would kee
his word. He would hunt me down like awolfl ’

A few minutes later he stood upon the edge of
the clearing, azing u on the blackened ruins of
the outlaw ‘ o. The Rangershad not sh ht-
ed their task. fiat a pole nor a. timber stoo up-
right. All was desolation.

Colonel Overton stood in deep thought for a
minute. Thoroughly acquainted with the re-
sources of the Wolves, he knew that, unless too
hard-pressed, they would make the best of their
way to the Black Swamp.

‘ If not there than the game is u I” he mut-
tered, finally. ‘I’ll try that. If don’t strike

ay-dirt there, the sooner I levant the better
orm health!” ’

Str‘ ' into a side trail. Overton ressed on
through t e chaparral for several ' es, film
dismounting in a secluded lade beside a sm 1
spring. for the p 86, 0 giving his horse a
much needed rest. avmg nothing to eat, him.
self, Overton lay down for 'a short nap. An
hour later he awoke, and mounting, set out for
Black Swamp. _

At the edge of this gloom refuge he a in
paused. He knew that the olves, if in eed
they had retreated hither, would be keeping un-
usually strict guard. As he was ignorant of
the present pass-word, an. attempt to pass the
lines would be attended with no little danger.

He dismounted and concealed his horse ina

 

dense clump, proceeding cautiously alon the in-
tricate trai , on the close look-out for t e first
guard. All at once a low, indistinct chirping
sound was heard, that an stranger might easi-
ly have mistaken for the 'wittermg of a young
bird. But Overton instantly paused and uttered
a low whistle, adding:

“I’m a friend—Overton. I bring important
news to the chief. Come out and give me the
pass—word. ”

The guard seemed satisfied with this explana-
tion, and possessed of the pass—word, Overton
pressed on with renewed confidence, nor did he
experience any further trouble in passing the
sentinels.

Just before he reached the water-ditch, a tu-
mult arose upon the island, and pressing for-
ward, Overton witnessed a curious and thrilling
scene. ,i

Several small fires lit 11 the island quite dis-
tinctly. Outlined agains this he saw a tall,
dark figure, clasping the form of a woman to
his breast, the firelight reflectin rfrom the blade
of a 1011 knife which he hel threateninfly
against her bosom. Beyond were gathere a
score of outlaws, all armed, wildly excited, et
held in check by the cool determination of at
single man.

‘ At the first motion the girl dies!” came the
clear, commanding voice to Overton’s ears.
“ Though I war not with women, in life is of
more value to me than hers. I am 8. out to re
treat. If you are sensible and do not attempt
to interfere, you shall have the irl as soon as I
reach cover, safe and sound. I otherwise, you
will only receive her dead body.” , .

Overton reco nized the bright dress of M15-
souri Belle, an in an instant his resolve was
taken. Marking the point where the stran or
would probably take to the water, he gli ed
noiselessly along. until he reached a oint di-
rectly opposite. And none too soon. e stran-

er was just at the edge of the water, where
t 6 bank was steep and slip cry. He was shift-
ing his grasp upon the man on with the evident
intention of casting her from him as he sprung
into the water. - ‘

Overton raised a revolver and with a quick,
steady aim fired. The stranger uttered a sharp
cry and fell backward into the stagnant waters,
bearing the half-senseless maiden with him.

Overton did not hesitate a moment, but
plunged in to the rescue. The Wolves rushed

orward with loud cries. They saw a fierce
struggle going on in the water, and could faint-
ly distinfguish forms, but dared not use their is-
tols for ear of injuring friends rather than oe.

But their aid was not needed. A dark figure
was seen swimming toward them, bearing the
half-drowned girl upon his arm' and the voice
of Overton was heard callin for assistance.
This was eagerly afforded, an relieved of his
burden, he easil climbed the steep bank, shak-
ing the mud an water from his garments like
some huge water-dog.

“Some of you fel ows can go in and pull the
man out, whoever he is. You’ll find my knife
between his ribs,” uietly observed Overton,
raising Missouri Be e in his arms once more.
“ One of you show meywhere the chief lodges.
The ' lneeds rom tattention.” '

ile a num er 0 the outlaws lunged in af-
ter the bod , others escorted ‘ e rescuer to
Equality Ep stent.

As they entered, the outlaw chief suddenly
crie :

“Kill him! it is Double sight, the Death
Shotl”

CHAPTER XXVII.
.A STRANGE sroav.

.EQUALITY EPH started to his feet with a ma.-
niacal all of fear and hatred asthe little party
enters his tent. He glared at Overton as
though at some dread specter of the past. He
staggered toward the wall where hung a revol-
ver belt, but ere his trembling hand could clutch
a weapon, his legs gave way and he sunk to the
floor like one in a ti .

Overton laughed disagreeablg as be lowered
the senseless form of Missouri elle to the cot-
bed. By his orders one of the women was sent
for, under whose ministrations the maiden
Epeedily recovered her senses but not before

vex-ton had discovered an ugl flesh-cut upon
the head of the Chaparral We . He shrugged
his shoulders and smiled slightl . ‘

“That accounts for his mist 9,” he observed;
but no sooner did the outlaw’s eyes open to re-
stored consciousness than the same look of hor-
ror filled them.

“Kill him!” he . venomouslsyl, larin
at the half—breed. “ t’s the Death- otgl 
him curs6 you I” _ .

“ ook closer, cap ,” quietly uttered Over—
ton, bending over the outlaw. “Surely ou
reco 'ze me—Overton—your friend and y?”

“ saw you lain] ” persisted Equalit Eph,
shrinking bac . “ ou came to mysi easI
was lyin down. You called me by that old
name. éou struck at me with a knife—there
was a paper ii on the blade—”

, Missouri Bel e uttci-eda little cry, and turn-
ing, the persons present saw that she held a
long, slender knife in her hand; and upon

 

the blade was a square bit of paper bearing

blood-red characters.

Overton laughed sharply as all eyes were turn-
ed, doubting, toward him.

‘There has been some cleVer jugglery going
on in our midst. But I am not ashamed of my
part in it. Captain, listen. You say that I am
the Death-Shot; that the Death-Shot visited you
here, leaving you his card—”

“Yes. I tried to seize him but he knocked
me down with a pistol, and fled.”

“Good enough! N ow, Miss Belle please give
your version of the affair,” smiled Overton.

The maiden complied in a few words.

“Once more, ood! Now listen. I was com—
ing to see on. heard the alarm. I hastened
to the wa er-ditch, and there I saw some one
holding Miss Belle as a shield a ainst the wea-
pons of your men, captain. watched my
chance and shot him. He fell into the water,
bearing Miss Belle in his arms. I immediately

lunged in and succeeded in tearing her from
his death-clutch. I swam ashore, nearly
strangled. I came here—to be cursed instead of
congratulated. But that does not matter. The
fact that I saved Miss Belle from a very dis—
agreeable and unromantic death is quite suf-
ficient reward.” ,

Equality Eph stared blankly at Overton
while he was speakin , and when the half-breed
paused, with a low w to Missouri Belle, he
glanced appealineg at the two outlaws who
stood near.

Overton nodded to them smilingly.

“What he says is ospel truth, boss,” one of
the fellows said. “I elped for to pull him up
the bank. The boys is s’archin’ now fer the kar-
kid 6 o’ the critter—”

“ hen the dead has come to life i” groaned
Equalit Eph, covering his face with his hands.

“Hus l” hissed Ovorton, stooping low over
him. “Would you publish oursecrets through
the camp? Contain yourse until I can clear
the cabin. ”

This was easil eflected. Missouri Belle, now
fairly recovere from her perilous adventure,
hastened away to change her drippinglgarments
and the two outlaws were dispute ed to aid
their fellows in the search for the bod of the
Death-Shot. Overton carefully closed t e door,
then drew near to the Chaparral Wolf.

“Now what do you mean by the dead having
arisen?” he asked. “ You can trust me, surely,
by this time.” , _

“You swear upon your soul that It. was not
you—that you did not threaten me With death
—that you did not leave that dfiger—” .

“You need not take my wo alone for it,”
impatiently interrupted Overton. “ Any of

our men can swear that I was not on the
island, until after the man who visited on was
shot. Rouse yourself, friend, or I’ll gin to
believe you are going craz .”

“That man was the pe ect image of you—so
much so that I addressed him as you,” mutter-
ed the chief.

“Did you ever know a man who resembled
me so closely? Imean, before this day?” permst-
ed Overton.

“In everything but complexion—yes! You
must have heard of him—seen him, too! Would
to God that I never had!” ‘

“You don’t mean—”

“A 1 Isaac Howard, the man we both
thong t was dead and buried long years a l
You must remember; he was your exact s
and build; even the features were strangely
alike—only you are dark, while he was fair as
morning.’

“ I never saw him but twice; and then only
for a moment. But he is dead—surely!” ’

“So I would have sworn! He was in the
house when we set it afire. He rushed to the
door all ablaze, and I shot him down with in
own hand! His bones were found, and burie
to other with those of his wife and children.”

‘I never learned the full particulars. You
know I rode away with my braves immediately
all was over. But I afterward heard a rumor
that one of the children was unaccounted for.
It was generally supposed that the fire de-
stroyed i 3 remains completely. ”

“And so I supposed for over a year. But the
child was saved. Ben Tolin, one oflmy men,
while looking for plunder in the burning house
stumbled over an infant. He had recent] lost
his wife and bab , and so the soft-hearte fool
carried the chil away, secretly, fearing that
we would kill it to destroy eve trace of our
Work. Some words that he let _ rop one day
when in liquor, put me on the trail, and I forced
the truth from him. I saw the child, took a
fancy to her, and since that day she has been
bro htu as in own child.”

“ ot souri Belle?” exclaimed Overton.

“Yes; Missouri Belle. .She is really the
daughter of Isaac Howard, thou h I. have
learned to love her almostasmuchas formerly
loved her mother.”

LS9! that was the reason you hated How-
ar

“ Yes. We both loved the same woman; but
he won her. That made a devil of me, I verfly
believe. I waylaid him one night, and we had
it out. My foot slippgd, and he left me for
dead. He, fearing to arrested for murder—

 

2O

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

 

for no person believed I could live—left the
countr . It was ten years before I struck his
trail; t en I found him here, in Texas. You
know the rest. We butchered the whole family
as we thought, though three of the number mus
have escaped. Their oldest child, a boy, was
away from home on a visit; Ben Tolin saved
the youngest daughter; and to-night I have met
c Howard, face to face!”

“ It does not seem possible! where has he ke t
himself through all these years? Why has e
not sought out his son, of whom you s oke?”

“I feel that I am right, though here are
many things I cannot account for. For two
years, now, this Death-Shot has been haunting
us. During that time nearly every one of the
men who accompanied me on that black ni ht
has been killed. And in every case there as
been found, either on the body or close by, a
card similar to that one: bearing a blood-red
cofiln, a crossed bullet and that strange signa-
ture. To-night, for t 9 first time, I saw his
face. It was the very picture of yours; or that
3f  Howard, with skin stained and hair

Y9 ~ .

“Strange!” muttered Overton, thoughtfully.
“ Still, it may be a mere coincidence."

“No! he demanded his daughter—and he
called me by my real name—a name that I have
not borne for full five-and-twenty years. He
swore that I should die by the death I designed
for him I”

“ You are safe from that, at least,” and Over-
ton laughed sharply. “ My shot only wounded
the fellow, but as we grappled beneath the wa—
ters, I drove'm knife home—I felt the guard
grate against is breast-bone! Hal” he ex-
claimed, as the sound of excited voices came to
their ears. “ That tells the tale! The boys
have found his body! Come! let's go and see
the show. If the famous Death-Shot is indeed
our old friend Isaac Howard, we can easily
prove the fact. Come 1”

Together they left the cabin and hastened
across the island to where a fire had been kin-
dled upon the bank above the spot where the
mysterious Death-Shot had plunged into the
black waters.

“ What luck, boys?” cried Overton, addressing
the dripping, mud-covered men who stood be-
side the fire. “Where is the body?”

“Gone!” was the sullen mpg. “He must
have had a friend in waiting. e found where
a body had been ged out through the mud
then carried to w ere a horse had 5
hitched”

“ Why are you here, then? Go search every
foot of the snow. If he escapes, the Rangers
will come down on us—”

“All are gone but us,” muttered the man.
“ Some one must sta to guard the prisoners.”

“ Lead me back— feel faint l” ped Equali-
ty E b. “He swore that he wo d kill me—”

“ rid your doom is sealed] Death—death
by fire I” uttered a. deep, solemn voice, coming
from the black waters.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
A DIABOLICAL rLor.

OVEM'ON wheeled, with a hissin oath, and
drew a revolver, gIlaring fiercely att e two men
who stood near. t needed but a glance to see
that neither of these had uttered those threaten-
ing words. Astonishment and awe was written
upon their eveg features. The words had evi-
dently proceed from the black waters of the
swam at their feet. But who could be lurking
there This was the question they asked them-
selves. And it was answered in a most start-

manner.

m directly above their heads came a laugh
shrillfigrolonged and taunting. As they stared
upw , the strange sound appeared to recede,
floating away toward the center of the island,
ending in a weird, doleful wail.

Overton laughed, shortly.

“ Some one is trying our nerves with his ven-
triloquial powers. I will give him one hundred
dollars to step out and face me like a man l"

There was no answer to this defiance, and see-
ing that Equality E‘ph was nearly overcome
With his inJuries a ded to his superstitious
fears, Overton took his arm and led him back
to the cabin. Producing a brandy-flask, he
made the outlaw chief drink a strong potion,
then said:

“While we arewaiting for the men tcbringin
our friend, the Death Shot, go on and tell
me e rest of your story. There is more in this
Howard business than you have told me. In
return, I’ll let you into a little job I have on
hand; one that will paE bi money. ”

The liquor  ph  drank, was pro-
ducing its desired e ect. His nerves were grow-
ing steadier with every moment.

‘I always intended you should have a. share
in it,” he said, which, by the way, was a flat lie;
only for his disa pointment in failing to pro-
cure the papers rom Kirke Howard Overton
would never have been taken into his confi-
dence. “ I was only waiting until matters set-
tle into ship-sha .

“ You remem r that the oldest son of Isaac
Howard was absent from home on that night.
I intended putting him out of the way, too, I
hated his father so bitterly. But while waiting

 

for the storm to blow over, the family he was
staEng with, left the country, and I lost sight
of 'm until a year ago. I saw a iece in a pa-
ge: about a large fortune that ha fallen to one

‘rke Howard, through a curious chain of inci-
dents. I’ll show you the account some time.
Enough that the fortune was left to Isaac How-
ard and his heirs. Young Howard proved his
identity, and as the only surviving child, the
whole property fell to him. So it was supposed;
but I knew better. I knew that I held posses-
sion of a co—heir. I could have presented her,
anhd lclaimed a share, but I resolved to have the
w o e.

“My first move was to find out where How-
ard him, out, and then to write him a letter. I
signed t e name of David Woodson to it; for no
particular reason, only you had been s eaking
of him that day. I bade him come to exas, if
he wished to clear up a dark mystery. Be an-
swered, and then I wrote immediately. I told
him there was an error in the belief that his
father was dead—”

“ Then you knew of this all the time?"

“ No; when I wrote that, I could have sworn
that the bones of the man who was buried by
the old ranch were those of Isaac Howard. I
said that, simpl because I thought it would
prove the surest 't to draw him into my trap.

“I neglected nothing. I bade him bring with

him all the papers by which he had proved his
identity in the will case that I might know he
was indeed the son of ease Howard. I bade
him await me at Galveston. I intended to set
him on some trail that would insure his easy
capture. I wanted his pipers to show me how
to get to work to prove elle the real heiress.
After I had pum him dr , I meant to send
him after his fat er. Then would take Belle,
together with the pore and sworn testimony
to the efi’ect that s e was the child rescued from
the Howard ranch by Ben Toliu, and put in her
claim for the money.”
“ A good enough plan,” said Overton thought-
fully. “ I only see one drawback. When Belle
finds out that you are not her father—and that
she is a great heiress—what’s the odds she don’t
give you your walking pa rs?"

“ I saw that, too,” grinned Equality Eph. “ I
told you once that loved her mother. The
dau hter is now uite as handsome though
dar , instead of fair complexioned. am not
so old, nor yet ill-looking, when I ut on civil-
ized togs. intended to t e girl first,
then install her as the heiress. l”

“ I see. But on spoke as though the plan
had failed. You ave captured young Howard,
what has gone wrong?”

“The 9. rs. I can find them no place. He
admits t he had them when he was brou ht
into camp but swears that they were sto en
from him that very same night as he lay bound.
I have searched everywhere, but in vain.”

“I should think it could be managed without
them,” observed Overton, thoughtfully.

“ I don’t dare stand a close trial, candidly

'tted Equalit Eph. “There might be too
much roof raked up. I have not lived the life
of a sa t.”

“You have never yen either of them any
hint of their real rela ionship to each other?”

“ Of course not. ”

“ There is a way, then,” and the half-breed
laughed. “Marry them; force him to execute
a will in her favor; then plant him, and marry-
in his widow, o and claim your rewa .”

icked and t oroughli heartless as he was,
Equality Eph stared at t e half-breed with an
expression that was not far removed from dis-

gust.

“ That is what I would do in your place.
However, if you don’t like the plan, let it drop.
You have both birds secure, and for such a
prize you can afford to bide our time.”

“ I out d air, as et. ut you spoke of a
mone job. hat isi l”

“ ot unlike yours, though on a smaller scale.
But it has one advantage. There is little risk,
and the moneyis sure. You have not forgotten
old Jack Castor? The Kiowas killed him—not
outright, but so that he died. I saved his scalp,
and as part payment he set me on the trail of a

goodthin
“Agafiman earsago,heran'edinMis—
souri. Hislast l; was abig one. e robbed

a. rich farmer and then fired the buil ' to
cover his work. Not only this, but he sto e a
little girl intending to use it as a means of
bleeding the father still more freely. He start-
ed to hide her, then returned to give the alarm
so the golden oose wouldn’t be roasted. But it
hagpened tha two travelers were passing by,
an noticing the flames, gave the alarm saving
the old folks and servants. Jackreco one
of them, and did not put in an appearance, for
a good reason. That man knew enoughto han
him twice over; and more, he possessed the w'
as well as the power.

“He struck out for parts unknown, taln'ng
the oun one with him. But when he tried to
put ’s p into execution, he could not find
the Marvins. They had left the country. He
could find no trace of them, and at last gave it
up as a bad job.

“ It is a curious coincidence that I was one of
those two men who saved the Marvins from

 

burning, and I had met them in Euro , not
three years before Castor made me his heir.
AsIknew that the old folks were rich, I re-
solved to work the lead. By advertising freely,
I succeeded in finding them. Then I made sure
of the girl. I sent her here by Grizzly Paw—”

“ Not Minnie Lamb 1”

“The very girl, pard. I thought some of
marrying her, but she had some little objec-
tions, and I concluded it wasn’t worth while.
Well, I got the parents out here. I have seen
them, and received five thousand dollars on ac-
count. They’re to pay ten thousand more,
when I restore the girl to them. That will be a
snu little sum apiece, if you care to join in.”

“ t me know what I am to do, first,” said
the outlaw chief, dryly.

“Not much. We are to take the girl, to-
morrow evenin , to the Bufi’alo Hump. One of
my men has or ers to guide the Marvins there
but not to arrive before dusk. I mean to hand
over the girl, receive the money, and when
they are having a good time generally, you are
to come forward and capture the lot. You can
take them to some snuglrplace—here, if you like;
and then squeeze the 0 man well for ransom
money. See?”

“And we’ll divide even?”

“Share and share alike—yes,” replied Over-

n.

“It will come in handv if I conclude to take
Belle to the States for that fortune," muttered
Equality Eph, thoughtfully.

b ‘How much is that fortune?” asked the half—

r .

“A little less than a million; not much,
thou h.”

“ ell worth a little risk and trouble! You
won’t try the plan I suggested? about marrying
the two?”

“ No. I’d do ’most anything else-—”

“I have it!” and Overton lau hed aloud.
“Just change the parties a little. orce How-
ard to marry Minnie— ou can, if you try hard
enough. That done, e must sign a deed, or
make a will in her favor. Of course he’d have
the good sense to die, soon after. Then ou
might marry the widow—or we could draw ots
for the chance; the winner, of course, to divide
with the other. It can be done—what say?"

“I’ll do it!” cried Equality Eph, extending
his hand.

CHAPTER XXIX.
THE DEATH SHOT AT WORK. I

WHEN Double Dan was aroused from his pic-
ture-writing by the faint creaking of the brush-
wattled door, and glanced up to behold that
dark, handsome face peering in upon him, his
first thought was he had been dogged by Colo-
nel Overton, and he hastily matched up a revol-
ver. But a second look convinced him of his er-
ror. The man before him though bearing a
wonderful likeness to Colonel Overton in figure
and feature, was in fact a far different rson-
age; none other than the real owner of t ' hid-
den cabin, and the one for whose information
Double Dan was so arduously ornamenting the
buck-skin shirt in charcoal.
drAs sow:1 as convinced of:  egror Double Dag

o is weapon, an e we men claspe
hanldgegith an earnestness that spoke well for
the strength of their friendship.

“ I’ve bin waitin’ fer ye perty nigh a month,
pard ” chuckled the spy, his double voice filling
the ttle low room. ‘They’s big news—big
news, pard!"

“ I have not been idle,” smiled the new-comer.
“ I have added three more names to the record,
and have 'ven the Wolves somethin to think
about. I ed them a fine dance over t e rairie,
and dro them by slipping into the ole we
know 0 in the old barranca.

“You’ll git salivated one 0’ these times of
you don’t be more keerless,” and Double Dan
shook his bullet-head reprovingly.

“I gave Dashing Ned and the boys a benefit,
too, last night. I played the fiery head on
them, and it workel to a charm. I looked
hideous enough to fri hten myself, but the ca -
tain is true 't. He unted me hard, ando y
for my nig t-glass would have tra me,
sure! As' it was, I led him to the 0 fs dens
and ye him directions where to find the key.’

“ ou showed ’em the way?” eagerly cried
Double Dan. -

‘f About the same. Bi this time they should
be makiiig thin rat er uncomfortable for
Equality ph an his gang of cutthroats.”

‘Wharis it? Good Lawdl spit it out, boss!
I don’t want to lose all the fun!

“There’s plenty of time. While I am eating,

tell me what you were trying to mark on that

Double Dan seemed accustomed to obey this
strange man, and, though he seemed sitting on
nettles he did not demur now. In as few words
as ble he ran over the principal points of
his doggin Colonel Overton. As he came to
the lot of t e half-breed in which Minnie Lainb,
the arvins and Whirlwind, the Kiowa chief,
were to play such prominent parts, the man
known as Death Shot grew strangely agitated.
This excitement culminated when Double Dan
handed him the papers of which he had dispos-
sessed the Mexican, Juan Tierra.

A»

 



 

mar-v

Equality Eph.

21

 

 

Double Dan stared at him in open-mouthed
astonishment. For an instant he feared that his
friend and master was dying. But the Death
Shot pushed away the proffered whisky-flask,
smiling faintly.

“God bless you! you have brought me a
double life, my friend—if what I read here is
true—and it must be! He would never have
made the notes unless there was truth in
them—” ~

.“ Ef you mean Turn-over, boss, ou’ll come
nigher to the mark of you read anyt 'ng he writ
back’ards. He never told the truth in his life
’cept when he tried to tell a lie—fact!”

“This is his own private memorandum-book,
Dan. And what is written here only goes to
confirm what I already had reason to suspect.
Up, man! there’s hard and hot work before us.
If you are not fresh enough to keep uplyvith me,
you must follow my trail. There’s ' e—more
than life at stake l” -

“ They’s only one boss in this State as kin do
in, legs justice, boss; an’ that’s the critter you
ri e. But I’ll bet ye the wuth of a week’s drunk
that I’ll be ’ithin call 0’ you at t’other send 0’
the trail, ef it lasts a. week. "

The Death Shot made no re ly, but leaving
the cabin, uttered a shrill whist e. With a joy-
ful neigh, a magnificent stallion, black as mid-
night burst through the bushes and bent its
proud head for the coveted caress. Its master

roduced a saddle and bridle from a hollow 10g
ard by, and adjusting them, mounted and rode
out of the timber island.

Double Dan kept close to his heels, a broad
grin upon his monkey-like face. Instead of a

isagreeable duty he seemed to regard the
prongised long an hard race as a pleasant bit of
spor .

“Better mount behind me ” said the Death

Elhot, as he settled himself firmly in the sad-

e.
“ ’M in too bi a burg ” grinned Dan, throw-
ing open his col ar. “ f e cain’t keep up, jest

neal, an’ I’ll run easy, li e.”

ike an arrow fresh loosed from the bow the
black horse darted away across the level lain.
With his chest squared, his head thrown ck,
Double Dan followed, with an ease and untrain-
ed ace that would have filled the heart of a
Joe son or a Hazael with envy. He had in no
respect overrated his powers. Swift as the
black horse raced, he could not shake OR the hu—
man machine at his heels. And for mile after
mile their relative sitions never changed.
At any moment, had e felt so inclined Double
Dan could have extended his hand and caught
the straight-floating tail of the black racer.

And two hours later, when the Death Shot

drew rein at the «1% the cha al in which
the Wolves’ village stood ouble Dan was
beside him, grinning broadly as ever, and,
though panting a. httle seemingly good for
anot er spurt as hard and long.
“ They ain’t much I’m good er,” he chuckled,
“ ’cept to skeer the babies, but of anybody wants
a two-legged boss to ketch chain-hghtnin’, jest
send ’em to me boss!”

“If all else fails, you can hire out as a tele—
graph. But come—we must find the rs.

’ll want you to introduce me, as Dashing ed
might string me up as Colonel Overton. But
remember, not a word as to who I really am.
I’ll clear up everything in my own time. ”

Enterin the chaparral, hey followed the
broad tr 1 left by the Rangers. Double Dan

oaned in dis st as be marked the various evi-

ences of the ght, and seemed to think himself
sorely abused in that the Rangers did not wait
for him to help them open the ‘circus. ”

An hour later they found the Rangers, not far
from the spot where Fred Meyer an his fellows
had been ambushed. The appearance of the
Death Shot created (pinto a sensation, and his

rting speech to ouble Dan might well
Egve come true, had not the spy swore to his
honesty.

Double Dan gavein his re rt, and then the
Death Shot drewDashin Ne aside. Heassured
him that he tIie power to lace the
Wolves into is hands without a c ancerof
failure, provided he would withdraw his men
from the chaparral, as though he had given
over the hunt in despair.

“ I know where they are in hiding, but a regi-
ment couldn’t dislodge them, by force. If you
draw off, I can lure them out of their hole.
Double Dan can vouch for my sincerity. Do
this, and I pledge 1you my word that in forty-
eight hours you s all have E uality Eph and
Colonel Overton captives, or 00k upon their
deg/c} bodies. ’;h to f

possess e wer orce you to show me
this retreat,” sai Dashing Ned, doubtin

l .
“Pardon: to take me captive, possiglyz, but‘

no more. In one word, will you accept my
proposal?”

Dashing Ned eyed the stranger keenly. The
Death Shot drew a white wig and false beard
from his bosom.

“ I were these when I warned you of the plot
to rob the bank at San Antonio. Did I deceive
you than?”

“ No; and I’ll trust you n0w. You will find
us at thg Three Fingers when you require our
service.

 

The Death Shot simply bowed his thanks,
then drew Double Dan aside and whispered a
few words in his ear, after which be mounted
his horse and rode away. .

Dashing Ned was forced to await the return
of his scouts, who were still absent, seeking for
the broken trail of the outlaws. While waiting,
the main art kindled fires and prepared food,
the first I: ey ad eaten that day.

The afternoon was half spent, when Double
Dan, who was still eating suddenly changed
countenance. Cla ping both hands to the pit of
his stomach, he p unged into the bushes, from
whence roceeded sundry agonized sounds not
unlike ew York, which convulsed the Rangers
with Ian hter. And while the werelau hing,
Double an was stealing silent y awa wi h the
Death Shot, chuckling inaudibly at t e success
of his ruse.

When at a safe distance the Death Shot halt‘
ed and rapidly explained his plans to Double
Dan, toget or with the part he, Dan, was ex—
pected to play. Daring as he was, the ro-
gramme nearly took awa Dan’s breath. ow-
evcr, he knew that it we (1 be folly to expostu-
la

te.

Twili ht found them close to the island refuge
in Blac ' Swamp. Death Shot crossed the ditch
dry-shod by passing along an overhanging limb
and dropping from its extremit .

In anXious suspense Double an awaited the
result of the reckless advonture, and as he saw
how many of the outlaws were restlessly stir-
ring, he could scarcely hope that all would turn
out well. And his fears were only too speedily
confirmed. The wild yell of Equalit Eph s
terror rung out, and instantly the islan was all
alive. Double Dan saw his friend break cave,
and creefing down close to the water’s edge, he
prepare his weapons for use. The Death Shot
should not fall unaven d.

He saw the whole a air, and laughed aloud as
his friend retreated with his living shield. Un-
fortunately Death Shot changed his course, and
to aid him better, Double Dan was obliged to
follow suit. Ere he could reach theri ht point,
Overton fired his shot, and the bold venturer
fell into the water.

CHAPTER XXX.
A HEART or FIRE.

THAT was fated to be an eventful night to Mis-
souri Belle, and her adventure with the desperate
Death Shot was but a beginnin .

She hurried away from the c ief’s cabin and
changed her clothes, also discarding her water-
soaked pistols for another . She had no
thought of sleep. The events of that day had
been far too exciting for anything like rfliose.

As she stood in her doorway, she co d just
distinguish the two small cabins inwhich the
prisoners were confined. With a shudder of
strangely-mingled emotions she turned away,
wandering aimlessly forward, not noticing
whither s e was going until the sound of a low,
sneer-mg laugh broke in upon her reverie. A re-
sentful ight sprung into her eyes as her head
uplifted prondl . She heard her own name
spoken and in he tones of Colonel Overton a
man whom she loathed and detested, none the
less that he had of late days assumed an almost
lover-like demeanor whenever chance or his
planning threw them together.

Missouri Belle’s training had not been such as
to prevent her playing the eavesdro r in case
of necessity, and now, gliding noise essly to the
rear of the rude brush structure, she crouched
down, an eager listener to the startling conversa-
tion between the two men.

Not a word nor a look did she miss. Pressing
close to the chin]: she drank in their startli
revelations with breathless interest. Nor di
she stir when the outcry arose beside the water-
ditch as the trail upon the further shore was
found. The discove she had made seemed to
have'stunned her. ould it be true? She felt
that it was, in her heart of hearts!

Little suspecting this audience, Equality Eph
 Overton returned to the cabin and resumed
their conversation. And Missouri Belle listened
to the whole of it, never stirring a limb until
the. two men clasped hands in ratification of
their diabolical compact.

The maiden had heard enough. She arose and
hastened to her cabin, sinking upon her low cot-
bed and burying her face in her hands. Her

brain was confused and whirlin . She seemed
living a dream. And et she ew that she
must think—think sober and clearly.

She did not notice t 9 noise outside that
heralded the return of the outlaws who had
been sent in quest of the man who had so bold-
ly carried off the body of the Death Shot. It
seemed as though she would lie there motionless
until the dawning of the new day.

Her face was white and hard-set as she arose
and tossed back her dam hair, and the stead

low in her dark eyes to d of a fixed and unal:
rable resolution. She secreted a brace of re-
volvers about her person, then extinguished her

1i ht and left the little cabin.
he night was dark and almost starless, but

there was light sufficient for her urpose.
Straight for the prison of the cousin e walk-
ed, and accosting the man on duty, order-

ed him to open the door. er demand was

thought of denyin her admission. The interior
was dark, but tha was exactly what Belle de—
sired. The business she was upon did not admit
of spectators.

“ Gentlemen, are you awake?” she said, speak-
in distinctly.

irke Howard, recognizing her voice, prom t-

1y answered for himse f and cousin. Guided dy
his voice Belle moved forward and knelt besi e
them.
sumed: .
“ orget what passed to—day, and believe that
I am here as a riend, to serve and aid you.
You are in great peril. It has just been decid-
ed that you are to die. If on will place your
trust in me, and obey my irections, I promise
to save your lives, and to give you freedom.
Think quick. There is little time to spare.
What is your answer?”

“It requires no consideration,” uickly re-
plied Kirke. “I trust you as I we d my Sa—
vior.”

“And you?” persisted the maiden, as Mark
made no reply.

“ Kirke an I go together,” was the quiet re-

sponse.
“ Very good i” and as she s ke Mimouri Belle
carefully severed their bon . “As you trust
me, so will I trust you. Here are wea us.
They are loaded carefully, and will not fai you
in case of need. Now listen. There is a man
on guard at the door. He must be silenced be-
fore you can escape. It is barely possible that
he could be taken prisoner without giving the
alarm, but the ris would be too great. He
must be killed! You need have no scruples.
His hands are red with innocent blood. In
slaying him you are simply anticipating the
hangman.”

There was no reply to this. Missouri Belle
seemed to divine the oughts of the young men
by intuition.

“ Is it my fault that my life has been spent in
such company? Until this night I believed these
people were my equals—«that I had been born of
and among them. But now I know that my

nts were murdered, that I was stolen from

onest associations, a mere infant, to be reared
among outcasts and criminals. Is it so strange,
then, that I weigh their lives lightly? But so
be it! If on areafraid of soiling your hands, I
myself wi 1 clear the way—”

‘No—that you shall not do,” impulsively ut-
tered Kirke. ‘,‘ Give me your kni e and I will

attend to him.’

“ Very well. You will stand close tothe door,
astassout. Iwillarran eitsothat hisback
isturned toward ou. Bu remember that the
faintest outcry w be ruin, if not death to us
all.

Kirke teased her hand in silence. At her
comman he would have dared tenfold the dim-
ger. Cool and self-contained though his nature
was, his whole heart had one out toward this
strange girl, and he felt at death would be a
small payment for one look of love from those
luminous eyes. '

Missouri Belle tapped at the door, and as the
unsuspicious sentinel opened it, she emerged.
But a little exclamation parted her lips, and she
pointed across the island saym :

“Merciful heavens! what is t t?”

The outlaw made no re ly. A strong arm
was flung around his use , and a long knife
sunk deep down in his heart. There was no
need to repeat the stroke. Death was almost

In a low, barely audible tone she re-

instantaneous.

“ Drag him inside, close the door and follow
me, one at a time,’ hurriedly whispered Mis-
souri Belle.

The cousins obeyed in silence. The maiden led
them around the ed

of the island until near]
opposite thgipoint w ere the crossing was usual-
ly made. e parted a dense clump of bushes
and pushed forth a small d -out. At asign
from her the cousins ente She followed
them, plying the paddle with the skill and silence
of a veteran scout.

All around them was darkness the most in-
tense. Eyesight was of little service, and she
seemed to rely upon instinct, instead. Be that
as it may, for several minutes she impelled the
dug-out through the gloom in silence. Then
phage was ashght shock as the bow touched
an .

“ Step out and hold fast,” she whispered.
“ Th’e bottom is firm enough. There is no dan-
gar.

Once more it was Kirke who obeyed her.

She led them for some little distance through
the close growing timbers, then paused. .

“ Before we go further, I have somethin to
say,” she uttered, in a low, husk voxce. “ ' -
en, and do not interrupt me. he task I have
set myself is hard eno h, without that. I was
that youn Mexican whom you saved from
the beer. was the mask that met you at the gain
bling house. I went there to obtain the pa rs
you carried. I failed then, but I succeeded
ni ht. I have the papers safe] . I stole them
to ac them from he hands 0 Equality I1:11pm
If he found them you would not be .ve
now. He meanttokill you, then possessi
of the fortune b producing no or heir.”

“ He could no I am the only survivor—”

 

made so authoritatively that the fellow never.

 

22

' Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

 

“ Not so. Your father is alive. I heard them
say so this very night. And more. You have
a sister living—”

“ There must be some mistake. Both of my

sisters were burned long years ago,” said Kirke,

sadly.

“Let that pass, for the present. Can you
guess why I saved your lives—wh I took so
much trouble for the men whom I be 'eved to be
strangers '9” .

“Because you are a woman, with a woman’s
heart."

“Yes—but not as you ima ' e. Oh! it is
hard to utter—bah! I said I wo d and so I Will!
Listen! To you, I am speaking, Mark Bird. I
had seen ou often before that day at San An-
tonio. O ’ten, yet never withouta strange in-
terest. But that day opened my eyes, and I
knew that I loved you—loved you with the
whole power of my soul! I felt that I could die

for one kind word from your lips. Then ima-
gine what a torture it was to hear you speak as
you did this afternoon! You love her—that
doll-face? Could she have served you as I have?
No! she would have fainted at the mere idea of
running such risk. Mark—I love youl I can-
not live without your love! Do not scorn me—
I am woman, though I speak so boldly. I
love you—I love you!’

“ Can you not speak, Mark 3” hoarse] demand—
ed Kirke, asickening pain riping is heart.
“ Your tongue is usually rea y enough. "

“ What can I say more than I have? I love
Minnie Lamb—”

“You reject me, then! You laugh. at my
love—”

“ Not so,” he said, gently. “But I would be
wronging you were to be less open. I am
ver grateful-”

“ ask for bread. and on ofi'er me a stone!"
and the woman lau hed, itterl . “ Be it 801 I
have overstepped t e bounds o lady—like deco-
rum. and deserve the reproof flu have given
me. You love this Minnie mh—but she
shall never know it. She is doomed—I could
have saved her———I intended doing so, but now—
let her suffer as I have suffered] And when
you hear her story, remember that it was your
ove that doomed her to a living death!”

As she spoke, Missouri Belle rung awa into
the darkness, leaving the cousms fairly umb-
founded by her wild outburst. For some min-
utes there was silence. Then Kirke Howard
spoke, his voice gloomy and despondin .

“God forgive you, Mark, for drivmg that

r child to despair. You have broken her
eart—” ‘ _

“ N ol it is I who should ask forgivenem ” and
the maiden once more stood beside them. ‘ For-
get all that I have said. I believe I was mad.

am better now. Here, Mr. Howard, are the
papers I took from you. They will be safer in
yrour keeping, now. Come. There is a long

ail before us, and we must be far away from
here before da dawns.”

“ But—Miss mb?” hesitated Mark.

“She shall be saved. We must find Captain
Conway and his Rangers. There is no danger
but we will be in time. Follow me, and keep as
stillas ossible.”

And t e trio pressed on through the night.

 

CHAPTER XXXI.
sa'rrm‘o A mu.

Barons nightfall Dashing Ned had kept his
promise to t 8 Death Shot, and withdrew his
men from the Chaparral. His scouts had all
come in, bearing the same report: that the out-
laws had scattered immediately after the spring-
ing of their ambush u n Fred Meyer and his
company, and cove their trail so thorou hly
that the closest search failed to unite the bro en,
threads. The strange disgppearance of Double
Dan also gave Dashmg N some little uneasi-
ness and when the Rangers flnall settled down
in t e spot where they intend to spend the
fighthgheir young captain had ample food for

on .

Thg night wore away, and just before dawn,
the man on guard was hailed in a cautious tone
from out the darkness. Not a. little startled,
for he had been drowsing, the sentinel demand-
ed the password, which was promptlgr given as
the unknown advanced. There was arely suf-
ficient light for the Ranger to reco ', the man
whom Double Dan had introduc and vouched
for.

“Go and arouso your chief, friend,” said the
Death Shot, rapidly. “ I have much to tell him,
and I must not run the risk of being seen near
your camp—”

“ I am at your service, sir,” at this point in-
terrupted Dashing Ned in person. “ I have been
e cting you.”

‘ I woul have been here sooner but I had a
narrow escape with my life from the Wolves,
and that detained me. If you will 9 me a
few moments, I think I can make a1 clear to
{an}; You are sure your men can all be trust-

l

“Reasonably sure; but to remove all doubts,
wewill takealittlewalkin theopen

ground.”

 

“Good enou hl now listen. Colonel Overton
captured Misnginnie Lamb, and sent her by
Grizzl Paw, the Lipan chief, to Equality Eph
for sa e-keeping. By some means he has foun
out the girl’s parents, and has extorted a large
sum of money from them on the promise to re-
store their lost child. The dog never played a
straight game in his life, nor is this an excep—
tion. A dozen words will reveal his Ipro-
gramme. He, accompanied by Equality ph,
and of course some of the Wolves, is to take
Miss Lamb to the Buffalo Hump, timing their
progress so as to reach there about dusk. One
of his follows is to guide Mr. and Mrs. Marvin
from San Marcos to the same place, at the same
time. And he has made arrangements with
Whirlwind, the Kiowa, to ambush the whole
party. The chief is to kill Equality Eph, cap-
ture the Marvins and hold them for ransom,
while the youn girl is to become his squaw.

Overton is to e the mone they bring.”
“ As foul a plot as ever heard!” exclaimed
Dashing Ned

“Is it not?' But the denouement rests with
you. Your force is stron enough to run the
whole affair if you take t em in detail. Ride
away from ere at once. Get as near to the
Buffalo Hump as you can without arousin sus-
picions. Wait until the red-skins are airly
settled in ambushythen go for ’eml You will
either wipe them out or run them off. Either
will answer. Then you will take their place.
There will be no danger of discovery, thanks to
the hour set for the exchange. You will bide

our time; I will give the signal for you to.

reak cover. All I ask is, that on articularly
caution your men to in 'ure neit er verton nor
Equality Eph. Take em captive, ali’ue. Am
I asking too much?”

“Not at all,” warml replied Dashing Ned.
"' I had already resolve to take those two men
alive. Their crimes have been too man and
atrocious for them to escape a ublic tri and
execution. We greatl need jus such examples
as they will give. nly—rather than suffer
them to escape, I will kill them. ”

“That of course. But if you set your trap
well, I don’t think there is much fear of their
escaping. And now—all is understood, 1 be-
lieve?”

“ You say that you will give the signal to us.
You will join us, then, before night?"

“ If I do not accompany the outlaws. I have
been among them more than once and they
looked upon me as their friend. I may try
another of my disguises to-day. Of one thing
you may rest assured. I will be there, with one
or the other partyh, and I will give ou the sig-
nal to close in w on all is ripe. 11 I ask is,
that on will trust me.”

“ ouble Dan’s word is enough for me. You
will find us awaiting your signal.”

“And I will give it, never fear. Now, good-

.b till this evemn'  The less ground we 've
y the t g

for suspicion ter. Of course you will
make sure that none of the Kiowas double on
your trail to give the outlaws warning.”

Dashing Ned nodded understandingly, and the
Death Shot sprung into the saddle and paced
swiftl away from the timber island.

As t e eastern horizon was paling before the
coming sun the Rangers mounted and defiled
out upon t 6 plain, ridin rapidly toward the
north—west, makin a wi e detour, so that the
Wolves, in making or the Buffalo Hump, would
not cross their trail.

It is not necessaryto follow them mile b
mile. Their progress was rapid and unimpede ,
and they came to a halt about noon, in a clump
of timber only a few miles from the rendezvous.
Here they unsaddled their animalsand cut them
feed from the tall, rich grass. Not caring to run
the risk of havin the smoke of a fire seen by
the Kiowas, the ngers contented themselves
with eating their jerked-beef in a. natural

state.

Toward the middle of the afternoon Dashing
Ned sent out a con 1e of the best scouts he ha
left with orders steal near enough to the
Buffalo Hump to note the movements of the Ki-
owas, and to return as soon as the knoll was
fair] occupied.

W ile waitin the result, he la down and
caught a short 3 ea , which be great needed.

The sun was st' two hours hi when the
scouts returned, and reported. The 'owas had

occupied the knoll, approaching it upon foot,
havting concealed their horses in some other
spo .
This'was even better than Dashing Ned had
dared to hope for, and it was with a full assur-
ance of complete success that he ave the word
to mount. As they rode into ful view of the
HUIIIIS, Dashing Ned led his men in acourse that
won ,
dred yards to the north of the mound. This
maneuver, added to the fact that there was no
water upon the Hump, he .hoped would delude
the red-skins into bel eving he had no idea of
pausing there, and induce them to lie low in
Opes of totally escaping observation.
he result proved how closely he had calcu-
lated. When the Rangers were fairly abreast the
Hump, not a sign was given to show that an
enemy occupied it.
Wheeling his animal, Dashing Ned rode

if maintained, carry them several hun-,

 

straight for the tree-capped mound, closely fol—
lowe by his men, uttering their wild slogan.
Never were cunning red—skins more completely
surprised. Almost before they could realize that
danger threatened, the dreaded Ran ers were
thundering up the hillside. Even W irlwind,
daring warrior though he was, made little at-
tempt at fighting.

The Kiowas are horse Indians. Place them
afoot, and they are com letel at aloss. A dozen
good rou h-riders can an e five times their
own num er.

Thus it was in the case in uestion. The Kio-
was discharged a hasty an ineffective volley
at the dyelling, charging Ban ers, then broke
and fle in utter confusion. ‘he Ran ers, in-
veterate haters of all Indians as we] they
might be, pressed the fugitives close and showed
them no mercy. To be overtaken meant
death.

But for one thrillin incident the war-party
would have been anni 'lated. Whirlwind, fore-
most among the fugitives, suddenly fell as
thou h shot. His nearest pursuer recognizing
the c ieftain’s plume, paused beside him, bend-
ing over in the saddle for his scal . Instead, he
met death. A long knife reache his heart, as
Whirlwind clutched his throat. A brief strug-
gle—then the Kiowa leaped upon the snorting
horse and with ashrill yell that promised future
ven eance, dashed awayzat top speed.

ith one accord the angers started in chase,
but the horse was a good one, and fearing that
the chase would last too long for the success of his
plans, Dashin Ned sounded the recall. Thanks
to his perfect isci line, he was obe ed, but the
surviving Kiowas ad so improved t eir respite,
that the slaughter was ended.

 

CHAPTER XXXII.
THE TRAP SPRUNG.

TEE day had fairly dawned before any of the
occupants of Black Swamp Island so much as
suspected the significant changes that had taken
place in their very midst. Nor would they even
then had not one of their number, as he slouch—
ed idly past the cabin in which the prisoners
had been confined, noticed a dark blood-stain
upon the slab-door. From this came the investi-
gation that threw the entire camp into an up-
roar.

The prison had no other occupant than one
dead man. The risoners were gone. Whither?
who had aided hem? for without such assist-
ance they could not possibly have escaped.

These were the questions the Chaparral Wolf
asked. He was not left long in suspense. Upon
the soft mud where the fugitives had entered

r the dug-out, their foot rints were too clear not

to be easily read. An word was passed around
that Missouri Belle had released the prisoners,
and had accompanied them in their flight.

Equality Elph seemed fairly stunned by this
discovery. e could sooner have doubted him-
self than the fidelity of the girl whom he had
taught to call him father.

“ Could it be that she contrived to eavesdrop
us, last night?” muttered Overton. “If so—if
she heard all you confessed, that would ac-
count for her deserting you to try and save her
brother.”

Though reluctantly, Equality Eph was forced
to adop this conclusion. In a white, sullen rage
he senta dozen of his men out in every direc-
tion with orders to spare no pains in the
search.

“ Bring her in alive,” he said, “and the others,
also, if possible. But never leave the trail until
you have them safe, dead or alive !”

Only for the arguments of Colonel Overton,
the chief would have joined the search in per-
son, so intense was his anxiety. The half-breed
seemed most concerned about his own particu-
lar game, and finally succeeded in reawakening
the interest of his confederate, and their prepara-
tions were resumed. Early in the morning
scouts had been sent out, who returned and re-
Eqrted that the Rangers, under Dashing Ned,

ad left the vicinity, ev1dently disgusted with
their ill-success.

Overton seemed in high glee as their sparty,
twenty in number, rode forth from the wamp
and struck out across the open prairie for the
rendezvous. He rode between the Chaparral
Wolf and Minnie Lamb. The former was sul—
leln, :pprehensive ; the latter pale, care-worn and
s1 en .

Suddenly Overton drew rein, rising high in
his stirrups, peering keenl ahead.

“I caught a glimpse o a human head,” he
explained. “ It ducked down in the grass, yen-
der. It me. be your fugitives, Wolf. Let your
man spre out—”

E%uality Eph did not wait for the conclusion
of t ese orders. The suggestion seemed to set
him all 'aflre. With amotion of his hand he
caused his men to spread out in a semicircle,
while he and Overton dashed directly ahead.

The watchful e es of the half-breed had not
deceived him. he drew near the marked
spot, a. wild-lookin figure arcs? theltall
grass an , scream shrill ev a 01:8
musk’et at his head! g y’

 

 

 

23

n Equality 

 

The weapon exploded when he was not ten ‘ CHAPTER XXXIII.

.; 

 

 

 

-nan.

ards away. Overton fell back upon the
haunch of his horse, while the wild figure before
him was hurled cnd-ovcr-end by the viciously—
kicking musket.

Equality Eph stared in mute amazement, l

for they saw that this scarecrow-like be-
ing was a woman! Nor was their sur—
prise lessened when Overton hatless, but
unharmed by the tremendous charge of buck-
shot, dashed forward, and stoopmg, raised
the woman to her feet with a choking laugh.
As he did so, a man uprose from the tall grass
and struck at him, but feebl 7 and with his left
hand. Minnie Lamb added) her mite by riding
forward and facing the outlaws as though she
would protect the two wayfarers.

“You owe me a hat, good Nancy,” laughed
Overton, as he gave his captive a gentle shake
in order to settle her clothes properly about her.
“But I’ll forgive you, seeing my brain-pan is
still whole.”

“Oh, you Hector Lamb!” gasped Mistress
Nancy, tenderly caressing her battered nose.
“Wait till your arm get’s well! I b’lieve you
loaded that pesky musket to shoot out back’ards
——vou pizen critter!”

<or a few minutes all was confusion, but at
last the matter was made clear. The two Lambs
had had anything but a felicitous time since we
saw them last. utridden by the Rangers, they
still endeavored to kee upon their track, but in
the darkness the mu e ridden by Hector fell,
and broke its rider’s right arm, rolling clear
over the luckless settler. For hours he lay like
one dead, and Nancy, while seeking to restore
him, allowed the mules to escape her. \Vhen
Hector did recover his senses, he could not arise,
and here they were forced to remain ever since.
What the result would have been, had not the
Wolves stumbled upon them can only be con—
jectured. Nancy recognized Minnie a. prisoner,
and forgetting all else, she sought to avenge
their wrongs and sufferings upon Colonel Over-
ton.

The half-breed ap ared to hear them no
malice, for though rst disarmin them, be
caused two of the \Volves to “ doub 9 up,” thus
giving the Lambs a. mount. This efiected, )ro—
gress was resumed, Overton regulating t eir
pace so as to reach Bufialo Hum at twilight.

When within a few hun‘dret yards of the
mound he bade the party hold their places
while he advanced to reconnoiter. He ran
lightly up the hill and disap aared from view.
A minute later a small ball 0 fire shot u above
the tree-tops, and then Overton returne .

“ All is well,” he said. addressing Equality
Eph. “I saw my man and the Marvins wait-
ing u n the prairie beyond for my signal.
They will be at the top nearly as soon aswe are.
Come! but remember my instructions.”

The Chaparral Wolf growled an assent. He
was still troubled by the defection of Missouri
Belle, and there was an ugly presentimeneof
coming evil troubling him.

Overton led the way up the hill and into the
little glade that crowned the Bufl’alo Hump.
There was a grim smile upon his hard-set fea-
tures as he cast a swift glance around upon the
circle of trees and bushes. If there was an em-
bush, no ordinary eye could distinguish the
fact

At nearly the same moment the Marvins en-
tered the glade from the opposite side. Their
agitation was plainly visi e, but before the

uestion which trembled upon their lips could
find utterance, Colonel Overtou stepppd to the
side of Equality Eph, and clutching is throat
with a vise-like gripe, thrust a cocked revolver
against his temple. I

“At the first motion you die the death of};
dog!" he cried, sternly. “‘Advance, Captain
Conway. and secure your prisoners!” '

“Surrender all I” uttered a._ commanding
voice, and Dashing Ned sprung into the open-
ing. “You are surrounded, The slightest
show of resistance will be the signal for my men
to fire I” '

A circle of stern-browed Rangers inclosed the

astounded party; their rifles were cooked and

leveled. Even the most desperate of the out-
laws saw that they must submit or die. And
with one accord they raised their hands above
their heads in token of submission.

“You have sold us, curse you!” hissed Equal-
ity Eph, making a desperate eflort to escape his
ca tor.

e attempt was fatal. In the strug la a pis-
tol e loded and the notorious outlaw fgell dead,
shot t ough the brain.

This was the sole casualty. The Wolves were
disarmed and pinioned securely. Then Minnie
was presented to the Marvms as. their lon -1ost
child. But another surprise was in_store. ith
trembling fin ers the old man shpged up her
ri ht sleeve. he round arm showe pure and
w 'te. The disappointed parent turned aside
with a. bitter 08D-

“ This is noligirour child! Our J ulia has a. deep
scar of a burn upon her right arm.”

“I can tell you,” cried ancy Lamb, excited-
ly. “ She is the child of the murdered Isaac
Howard—”

“ And I am Isaac Howard!” came a deep
voice.

“CHANGE PARTNERS!"
i “ YES, I am indeed Isaac Howard, the man

: whom all the world—save one faithful friend—
has considered dead for sixteen years l” resumed
the man who had played the part of Colonel
Overton. “ The story is a long and painful one,
i but it must be told in order to explain and jus-
tify the part I have played of late years, as an
avenger.

“It has long been behaved that the Kiowas
attacked and burned my ranch, and that all_of
the occupants were murdered and their bodies
consumed in the flames. But three persons es-
caped. My oldest son was absent on a visit; my
youngest daughter was rescued from death b
one of the men who followed the lead of this
carrion—Equality Epli as he was last known. I
was the third person. The bones that were bu-
ried for mine was a traveler who put up with us
for the night.

“I esca cd; but how, I never know. 1 re-
member t e alarm, remember a great crash
upon my head, and that is all. When I awoke
to life again, it was over twelve years later! I
was among the Kiowas, a lunatic, all these

ears.
y “I watched my chance and effected in es—
cape. I came here at once, I learned the my
whole famil had been murdered. Those whom
I questione could tell me nothing of my son
Kirke, nor could I find the family with whom he
had been visiting.

“Then I gave my life over to one object; that
of revenge. It would be too long were I to tell
you how I managed to strike the ri ht trail.
Enough that I di , at last, and that marked
out over man of the midnight assassins for
death. was greatly aided by my one friend
-—Double Dan—”

“That’s me an’ my twin brother!” came the

ueer double voice of the scout, as he entered
t 9 hide, followed by three other persons.

“Ifou here! where did you leave your pri—
soner?”

“ Safe an’ sound—tied u like a pig ina ackl”
grinned Double Dan. “ done fetche some
folks to see ye. Miss Missoury Belle, Mister
Mark Bird an’ Kirke Howard, esquire—make
ye known to Double Sight the Death Shot, or

ed re—”

“ top, friend,” interposed the Death Shot.
“ Let me finish my explanation, first. I will be
as brief as possible. ,I made use of many dis-
guises in my work, and being a fair ventrilo-
quiet, a dabbler in chemistry as well, I managed
to get up a very respecta ie mystery. I pro-
cured me a very fine air-pistol, of laitilg range
but small bore, and it aided me not alit e. T e
wounds made by its balls were so small that
on] a close investi tion could discern what
ha dealt the fatal b ow. I only used this when
I wished to entirely esca observation.

“Not until last year c id I 5115 ct that I had
a. daughter living. Some wor s that Colonel
Overton drop ed gave me the clew. Until quite
recently I be ieved that the young lady known
as Missouri Belle was my child; and E uality
Eph believed it to his death. But in this 6 was
deceived by his fellow criminal Overton, He
it was who stole your child and burned our
house, Mr. Marvin. He brought lsyirour chi d to
Kansas and there gave her to . and Mrs.
Lamb.”

“And now it’s my turn,” interposed Mistress
Nancy. “You shot 11 , Hector Lamb! I’m
goin’ to tell everythin’ know. These folks'll
know how to make ’lowances fer people what
was starvin’ to death.”

And Nancy did tell. How Overton bribed
them to kee Mr. Marvin's child and raise it as
her own. ' ow they wandered to Texas. Then
came a hard time. They were literally starv-
ing. Too proud to beg, one dark night they sal-
lied out to their nearest neighbor's, and using an
ax, Hector Lamb killed two fattening'hogs.
They were caught at this work by Overton and
another man, and they fled, leaving their ax be-
hind them.

That samo night the Howard ranch was burn-
ed. And just before dawn Overton came to
them, bearing a little girl, which he wished
them to exchange for t e other child. They
demurrcd, but he threatened them with ex
surens hog-thieves. The be ed for time £81:
they had learned to love t e c 1 d dearly. 'l‘hat
same morning the re ort spread that the neigh-
bor whom they hada tempted to rob, was found
dead in his bed slain by the stroke of an ax.
And Overton threatened to swear the crime
upon them unless they agreed to perform his
will in every particular. Though this murder
was almost ost sight of in the wild excitement
which followed the Howard tragedy, the Lambs
knew that it would require but a word to set the
mobu nthein.

“ V e couldn’t do nothin’. He had the ax we
used to kill the hogs with. He said h'e’d sw’ar
he see us comin’ out o’ the man’s house, in the
nilit. So we could only give way to his
W .

“ He told us that in a few days a man would
call for the child, an’ told us how we might
know he was the right one. Ontel he did come,
we might keep the young ’un mighty close,so

 

 

nobody ’d ever see it. He made us change thar
clothes, an’ sw'ar to pass off our real Minnie fer
t’othcr, an’ the man who axed for it. We did
jist as he said. A week a’terwards, the man
come. He give us the si m that showed he was
the ri lit person. An’ w en he went away, he
took t 10 c iild with him.”

The Death Shot quietly led the two maidens
forward, and s oke to Nancy Lamb.

f‘LArc these t 0 two children you have spoken
o l

“I kin sw’ar to this one,” said the woman,
drawing Minnie to her side. “ She is the one
Overton brung last: the one I ’most kin sw’ar is
the daughter of Isaac Howard. As for t’other,
of she is the baby; ’tended fer better‘n two
years, she’s got 11 ad scar on her right arm,
above the elbow.”

\Vith a wondering cry, Missouri Belle pushed
up her sleeve. Even in the gathering gloom the
significant scar could be distinguished.

here was a. sobbing cry—and Mrs. Marvin
fell upon the neck of her long—lost daughter
while the trembling arms of the husband an
father encircled them both. ‘

Respecting their emotions, the remainder of
the party withdrew to a little distance, when
the Death Shot resumed his interrupted

ere is no particular necessity for us to fol-
low his explanations step by step. A word or
two concerning those points which have been
more particularly brought before the reader
must suffice.

From the hour in which his suspicions were
aroused that his daughter lived, Isaac Howard
never lost sight of his prey. Da and night he
dogged them, unable to rest unti he learned the
trut . He it was that rescued Equality E h,
when that scoundrel was precipitated upon the
bull’s back in the circus ring, because he would
not that his enemy should die with his secret
untold. He it was that dogged the spy to the
outlaws’ quarters that same night, and cut
short his report with a shot from his air-pistol
through the barred window. He also shot the
faro ealer, and James Brown, the convicted
traitor. These three men were of those who had
murdered his famil , years before.

He visited Equahty Eph at Black Swamp, in-
tendin to pla the role of Colonel Overton, but
the elf, su denly aroused from a troubled
slee , gave a yell of alarm, and to save his own
life oward was obliged to strike him down.
As he fled for safet , be grasped Missouri Belle,
not knowing who 9 was at the time.

As the reader knows, (’lverton, believing his
shot fatal, plunged into the water to rescue the

irl. Instead, he was grappled! by both Double

an and Howard. In he struggle that ensued,
Overton was stabbed and choked senseless. A
single word set Double Dan to work; and while
Howard rescued Missouri Belle, his friend was
dragging Overton through the swamp to where
the rusty black horse was tethered.

How boldly the Death Shot played his as-
sumed part, how completel¥r e averted all
suspicion, have been shown. om what Dou-
ble Dan had heard when spying upon the real
Overton, added to the notes in the captured
memorandum-book, it was ens for the Death
Shot to deceive the Cha arral olf.

Double Dan, while hi 'ng with his prisoner in
the swamp, overheard the stormy scene be-
tween Missouri Belle and the cousins, and
watching his chance, made himself known to
themnand told them a portion of what was in
the Wind. As a. natural result, it was decided
that they should proceed to the Buffalo Hump.

 

With a few brief remarks, our story proper is
ended. The maiden whom we have known thus
far as Minnie Lamb was recognized as the
daughter of Isaac Howard, and the sister of
Kir e. That she was half smothered with ca-
resses ma readily be imagined. Nor was Mark
Bird at a backward in claimin his share, as a
cousin. Dashing Ned added his congratula-
tions, but Minnie noted, with a sharp g, that
he was far more detiply interested in er whom
we have knownas issouri Belle. The warm
glow in his fine eyes, betrayed by the crackling
camp-fire, she could not mistake.

The Situation was a peculiar one. Minnie
loved Dashin Ned; he loved Missouri Belle, as
did Kirke oward, also; Missouri Belle loved
Mark Bird, while he had eyes only for his
cousin Minnie.

But “time works wonders,” and it assuredly
did in this case. Before a year had rolled by,
the cards in Love’s pack were shuffled and dealt
anew. Partners were changed and at least
four of the players were completely satisfied.
Within the same month, there were weddings
in Texas and in Missouri. Dashing Ned settled
down as a farmer and stock-raiser, in the latter
State, and “Missouri Belle ” presides over his
growm household. In Texas the old ranch
was re nut, and Minnie consented to make'
Mark Bird happy. As for Kirke, he lives with
them, a. confirmed old bachelor. He has never
forgotten his first love, and he will carryher
image with him to the grave. ’

Double Dan is still ahve, and nearly as swift-
tooted as ever. When he and his “ twin-

 

24

Beadle’sfiDime Library.

 

,.

brother” go under there will be more than one
mourning household in Texas.

That same night, after the general e lana-
tion and “clearing up," Isaac flower and
Double Dan mounted and rode rapidly toward
Black Swamp. They reached the place where
Colonel Overton had been confined, but it was
empty! By some means he had slipped his
bonds, and mounting the famous black stallion,
had fled for his life. But thing: for years his
fate was a mystery to the w 'tes, the truth
came out at last.

CHAPTER XXXIV.
HUN TED DOWN.

A BLACK stallion is running low and swift be-
neath the blazing noonday sun. Its silken coat
is stained with sweat, with foam and with
blood—blood not all its own. The rider upon
its back is wounded, though he scarcely feelsthe
smart. He turns his head and glances to the
rear. Abgrating curse parts his lips. The hunt-
ed light in his snake—like eyes grows deeper, his
face seems thinner and more haggard.

Yet far away, but hanging upon his trail like
human bloodhounds, ri a. full score of vin-

dictive warriors, armed with lance and rifle,with

'nt upon their faces and blood in their eyes.

hey have marked their prey and the chase will
end onl in death.

The gitive turns to his noble horse. He
tightens the reins, strokes the dripping neck,
5 ks encouragineg in the small, inted ear.
The stallion tosses his proud head an answers the
call. For a minute his mighty muscles play like
exquisitely-tom red stee s rin . b ca is
devoured. after rod is un hin him in
those deer~1ike leaps. And the t ' lips of the
fugitive curl away from his inted teeth, as
he costs an exultant glance bac at his pursuers.
He he 'ns to taste the sweets of freedom and re-
newe hope.

Again the black stallion tosses its head. It
utters alow, husky whimper. It cannot breathe
freely. A cruel cord seems tightening around
its throat. It turns its head as though to ask
its rider the meanin of this strange spell that
cramps its limbs oppresses its lungs.

The only answer is a curse, asthe hunted man
drives his heels into the teaming flanks. He
3"“ 152°“ “limmmw‘l? will; bgrass—lwd-

oun u n e e n

blades arep0 tted here and there with crimson
blotches. ey know that the end is near.
And with exultant yells they urge their labor-
mes on.
fugitive is Turn-over, the half-breed; the
ursuers are ' lwind and his Kiowa braves.
ince early dawn the chase has lasted. There
was one rapid volle as the half-breed swept
past their covert. e Kiowas set out in hot
pursuit, not discouraged by the ease and
‘rapidit with w 'ch the black stallion distanced
them a first. They mark the scarlet trail, and
know that those frothy drops came from near
the seat of life. And as the ours pass on, they
gain, slowly but surely upon their victim.

The nature of the ground is changing. Turn-
over rises in his stirrups and casts a sw1ft glance
ahead. The level plain becomes broken and
more difficult. There is scattered timber ahead
of him. He urges his pantingrhsteed up the as-
cent, then lences back. 6 Kiowas are
spreadin ou in a. semicircle as though tocut
him 03 s ould he attem t to deviate from a di-
rect course. Wat‘in sho d the ex t him to of-
fer them this vantage? ure y the trail is
open in front?

The timber is scattered in groups of two and
three trees. Any one of them would aflorcl a.
good chance for a fight for life if only he was
armed. A revolver—even a. ' 9 would be
worth a fortune, now!

Straight across the lateau rides the fugitive.
He dare choose no ot er course. The Indians
are too near his heels. R' ht ahead is a
thick clump of timber. Beyon this the ground
rises, wild and broken, covered with huge mass-
es of rock. The eyes of the hunted man listen.
Once there he surely can find a hiding- ace so
secure that not even such human bl ounds
can ferret  oulti. his f . h

Thmkin' g us. e urges ailing orse on—
riding straight to his doom!

He plunges through the timber, then wrench-
esin his horse with a. furious curse. Right at
his feet lies a. frightful abyss, five hundred feet
in depth, the perpendicular sides bristlin with
sh points and angles. The chasm is five
anilirgwenty feet in width. The rocks rise ab-
ruptly upon the further side. There is scarcely
foothold for a horse after such a leap. But the
exultant yells‘ of his bloodthirsty pursuers are
ringing in his ears. Unarmed, certain death
awaits him; there is justachance by attempting
the frightful leap. '

He urges his horse to the brink, but it refuses
the leap. It seems to know that its weakened

powers are unequal to the task.

Not yet does Overton despair. He leaps to

 

 

the ground, flings his coat over the stailion’s
eyes, then runs him forward and over the brink.
End over end the poor brute falls, until the
'agged rocks below grant him a merciful death.

verton dares not wait to see the result. His
enemies are too near. He runs lightly along
the edge of the chasm until he reaches a long
hollow log that lies rotting upon the ground.
Into this he crowds his body. The chance
is indeed a faint one; but there is none
other.

The Kiowas burst through the timber, 6 ct-
ing to seize their prey, for right well they ew
what a formidable barrier lay in the course of
his flight. And as he lies in his close prison,
Turn-over hears their cries and exclama-
tions of wondering disappointment. He can see
them clustering around the fresh hoof-prints.
He can see them peering down into the vast
depth, and his heart grows sick as he fears they
will discover his deception. He closes his e es
as Whirlwind glances toward his covert. e
fears lest their glitter may betray him. But as
fiberghief speaks, fresh hope springs up in his

ea

“Tum-over is laughing at the Kiowas. He
has leaped his horse over, and is now far away.
But his scal shall blacken in the smoke of
Whirlwind’s 0d 6—1 have sworn it!” '

“ We will find is trail upon the other side, and
run him down. His biihsorse is badly wounded.
The coyotes will crack ' bones before the sun
goes down. Let us go I”

“There is time enough. Our onies are w
an: neI-ed fofd and  IWe will] vlviait here, iind
ea. am ungry. ee on or sea 0.
It will make a good fire!” y dry g

The heart of the half-breed grows sick. He
knows now that his lace of refuge had been
discovered. Unarm ,‘nothin but death awaits
him. He will be dragged fort and ruthlessl
butchered—perhaps aftercruel tortures. He -
most envies the fate of his poor horse.

Even in that moment he wondered that he
should find it so hard to resign himself to death.
He had sooften laughed at it—so often dared it
face to face, through pure recklessness. But
then he was armed. He could return blow for
blow. That made all the diflerence.

He med forth from his refuge. Whirlwind
and stout braves stood with read wea-

ns, though in seeming carelessness, fore

'm. The other braves are bringin dried sticks
and grass and iling them upon e log. He
hears the clicking of flint and steel and the
sound sends a sickening thrill through his heart.
Those sounds areto him what fastening down
the comn-lid must be to one lyingin a death-
like trance, ready for the grave.

He knows when the sparks catch upon the
tinder. He can tell when these are blown into a
flame—and he hears the faint crackling asthe
serpent—tongued flames lick up the dry grass,
winding in and out through the only too readily
ignited fagots. ,

And now the dusky fiends raise their wild
voices in the triumphant scalp-son , and as the
bright flames shoot higher an higher, the
doomed victim hears them dancing before his
fle prison inmad lee.

om that momen his nerves become steeled.
He knows that death is inevitable, but he will
rob his destroyers of their choicest morsel of re-
venge. They shall not boast that they killed
his courage, as well as his body. Since die he
must, he would die in sullen silence.

The flames leap higher. The heat grows more
intense. The lo is one blazin massof coals.
The suffocating eat fills the ho ow. It scorch-
es the sullen wretch. His face and scalp are
one great blister. His blood seems boiling in
his veins. Wild visions of the black past arise
before him. He is assailed b a thousand weird
Shantoms. Devils aregrap ing with him. He

hts—but in vain. They g him forth from
h s blazin refuge—

A hon‘i 1e el bursts from his lips, and ren-
dered insane the frightful torture he works
his wa out o the fiery circle. As e springs
to his eet, his garments burst into flame. e
is a mass of living fire!

The sav es range themselves in a semicircle,
of which he ed 6 of the chasm forms the
chord. As the hazing, maddened half-breed
rushes forward, he is met and turned back by
the rifle-barrels and lance-butts of the wildly
efiislgiing savages. Time and again is he thus re-

Then—for one brief instant his brain seems
to clear. He glares swiftly around him. He
rushes to the brink of the abyss. He rises in
the air—shoots forward—alights fairly upon the
further bank!

But his Hpowers are exhausted in that mighty
effort. e totters—sinks down upon his knees.
A fragment of rock gives way beneath his
weight. He catches iilpon his breast. Inch by
inch he sli down.» e fights in desperate 31—
%e for ' life. But the fates are against

One wild scream of horror—a swift-falling
form from which the flames burst out anew—a
faint thud!

Turn-over, the half-breed, was dead!

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