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Emm A'r mi: POST Omen AT NEW You. N. Y., AT SECOND cuss MAIL Runs.

 

Week. 98 WILLIAM STREET. N. Y.. December 29, 1880. $5.00 a Year.

THE GENTLEMAN FROM PIKE; or, THE GHOST or THE CANYON.

A TALE OF THE AMERICAN WON DER-LAND.

V01  Pnbllahed Every QBeadZe cf- fldams. 9317b71f5})ers,' renCemgchpy, N0 4

 

 

 

BY PHILIP S. WARNE:

urn-non on “yuan-mung JOE,” “TIGER DICK," “ ALWAYS on HAND," “A lunn cmown,” 1:10., no.

 

 

 

 

 

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2

The Gentleman from Pike.

 

 

The Gentleman From Pike.
03.
THE GHOST OF THE CANYON.

A Tale of the American Wonder-Land.

BY PHILIP S. WARNE,
amen or “ noun DICK," “ BOWIE, run amour
or cmvannv," “ELEGANT sonnm,”
“ was canons cousms,” arc.

CHAPTER I.
m anon on THE cmon.

“ In God’s name! what is itl”

“ Boss, it gits me?”

“ Not the cry of an animal. I know every one
in the mountains.”

“No more is it human. No ten men could
make such a racket as that. Jest hear it go
down the canyon?"

All listened while the Weird echoes waned in
the distance. Ever and anon some jutting crag
would prolong that unearthly bowl and fling

 

back the fierce snarls that followed it like do- I

mon laughter.

They were a little handful of horsemen, less
than half a score, all told.

He whose commanding presence and superior
Intelligence marked him as the leader of the

ty was a young man, certainly under twen—
y-fl‘. 9. His dress, though of coarse material,
was well-made and fitted his well-knit flgure
rfectl y. There was no dandy ish affectation of
'nen, his shirt bein of woolen stufl, with a
black silk neckerchie at his throat. But scrupu-
lous neatness marked the ntleman.

None who saw him conl doubt his high cour-
age and punctilious honor; but on his knitted
brows, out of kee ing with his youth, sat a shade
of settled melanc 01 —an intangible something
which told of a soul hat had withstood the light-
ning shock of a. great despair.

Such was William Carleton, the man who was
known for and wide in the mountain country as
“ The Gentleman from Pike.”

He was mounted on a superb black charger
whose blood-red nostrils and rolling eyes denoted
his fiery spirit, while the quietness with which
he stood showed his perfect training. _

The men bearing the Gentleman from Pike
companywere ordinary mountain men, barring
one exception in the person of the old scout,
Judd Baker. He was a rough diamond—c man
whom you could “ tie to, ever time I"

“It is the strangest sound ever heard l” ex-
claimed the Gentleman from Pike, referring to
the weird cry that had caused the whole party
to draw rein and listen in wonder. .

“ Cap’n,” said Judd Baker, solemnly—“never
heard that noise aforei"

“No. Have on? What is itl"

And the Gent eman from Pike turned curious-
ly to the old scout.

The other members of the party also looked to
him for explanation. '

He shook his head gravely, and replied:

“ Yes, to the fust question. I dunno, to the

nd. ’ V ~

“ Wh , Judd, what is the matter with you!”
asked t 9 leader.

He had never before seen such a look on the
scout’s face.

“ Waal, cap'n ” was the deliberate reply,
"I’m stumped! ense is sense; but natur’ gits
away with all curcalcalations sometimes! Look
a-hyar, cap’n l—do you b‘lieve in sperntsi”

‘ S irits, Judd?” ,

“ es,—sperritsl-—unairthly criturs that
comes up from down below, to play the devil on

thish ar airthl— hostel—s ksl
géfll‘lénrsensel There are 512:0 such things as

“That’s what you sayl”'replied the scout,
do g’edly. “I used to b’lieve that way my-
so

“But you don’t mean tosay that this strange
sound is the voice of a spirit?)

“ Ef it ain’t, then what is 1”"

“ I don’t know, I’m sure."

“ No more does an] other lioin’ man I”

“ But it doesn’t follow that it is supernatural
because no one knows its source. Since on
have in de such a point of it, suppose we nd
out? ome, meni I reckon youre not afraid
to follow me i”

But themeu having caught the superstitious
foreboding of the scout, manifested no respon-
sive enthusiasm,, but looked rather solemn, see-
ing which the Gentleman from Pike pursued;

‘You. at least, Judd, will not fear to to ac-
com an , 1131 m i! tin otheirs hang backizz
‘ as asurastgoes,capn, re-
lied the soout. “I don’t take water for nothin’
in human shape, ye understand, nur nothin’ o’
the animal kind that can’t stand 11 ag‘in’ an
ounce 0’ lead. But things as ’11 fll r bullets
like water through a sieve—things that ye kin

look through their innards like squintin’ through :

glass-things that ye kin belt aside the topknot

sn’ nothin’ but windl—them thins. -_.,y,
mlfio

wsomdever, if you say go, I say a I
I never shook a s uar’ man mt, an’ I al ow I’d
back you, cap’n, ugh fire ’11 brimstunl But

of so be you wouldn’t mind a word store we
reek it—’.

The old scout left the sentence incomplete,
and looked appealineg at the commander.

“Drive ahead, Judd," said the other. _“I
know that you don’t talk unless you have some-
thinarto say.”

“ aal, it’s jest this: I knowed a mighty like-
ly pilgrim, jest from the States. Plucky? That
warnt no name for itl An’ knowledgeable?
Waal, sir, he could chin it with preacher

on ever see! I reckon, if he’d sot is mind to
t, he could ’a’ wrote a book that two men
couldn’t pack! He heard this thing last sum-
mer, when it fast come out. The boys told him
that this canyon was ha’nted, an’ that it would
stand him in hand to let the Ghost 0’ the Canyon
alone. He poo-pooed ’em for a pack of old wo-
men an’ swore that he’d never come back until
he fetched the spook home in his.breeches
pocket. Cap’n,” ,concluded old Judd, impress-
veBly, “ he ain’t gotvback yit I"

owever William Carleton was impressed b
the old scout’s story, the men under him dran
in every word open-mouthed.

As if to highten the eflect, at this instant the
rocks rung again With that unearthly how].

The long-drawn, dismal wail, scarcely audible

at the beginning, swelled until it rivaled the
‘loudest trumpet blast, then died away as it
, be an. The savage snarls that followed it were
i in escribable. ,
I The mountain men started and- azed about
, them with superstitious fear, as if t iey dreaded
, a malignant demon in every echoing crag.
i Plainly' they needed but a signal to take to their
heels in unmanly flight.

The Gentleman from Pike; though puzzled,
was gerfectly conl.

Ju d Baker sat his horse like a man who had
the courage to brave a danger which be fully
appreciated.

‘That was nearer than the last,” said the
leader. “ Whatever it is, it is approaching us.
We have but to wait, and the mystery will
solve itself."

This announcement did not reassure the men,
by any means.

" I reckon this hyar’s a-tem tin’ 0’ the devil l"
growled one of them, gloomi y. “Thar won't
no ood come of it,’nohowl”

‘ f any man is afraid to stay. the road down
the canyon is open,” said the Gentleman from
Pike, coolly. “ I shall remain and see this
thing through.”

But while the voice had come from up the
can on the echoes had ensuersd from Lelow
! not either direction was filled with equal
' terrors; and the men clung to the l older hit
of their leader as children look to their .e ders
for protection. . .

5‘ Cap’n," said Judd Baker, “ do you hear that
other noise?”

“The thunder? Yes. There is ,storm some.
where among the mountains. I at that need
cause one uneasiness. It is too far oil.” .

“Perhaps! But. you bet the» Ghost 0’ the
Canyon don’t hanground for nothin’l It’s bound
to bring ill luck..ka my wordl. An’, see! our
bosses—that in some things is more knowledge,-
able than folksl—is tell ’ us as plain as boss.-
talnilr 15in make it, that t. ar’s somethin’ in the

w d. .

A ain thatm tori, 'cr burst on them.

Tlge crags caught" urfihe {weird sounds and re-

_ ted them until it seemed as. if, the came

rom evc_ direction and- filled earth and eavenl

Then h e asullen menace, came the rumble
of thunder! ,

At first it was intermittent. Then it became
a steady roar that made‘the air quiver until the
very} rocks seemed to partake of the shuddering
mo on.- . ‘ ' ‘

Now the ever cool Carleton began to show
signs ct disturbance. ' -

‘ That isn’t thunder,” he‘exclaimed. “ What
in the world is it!” ,

Judd Baker shook his head.

“ E1 we was on the plains, I’d say it was
bqualer stampede,” he replied. “ But h r I
reckon it’s some 0' the devilment o’ the glost.
Thar’s no bettin’ on what a hear in a ho. nted
canyon! Them thin don’ stand to reason, no-
how. I allow he co d fill this byar place with
singin’, ur flddle-playin’. jest as easy as not.

“ Good God! Thar she comes 1"

One glance. and with yells of terror the rest
of the party “broke and ran ” leaving the Gen.
tleman from Pike and Judd Baker to face the
unknown pcriL

In truth, the object which burst into view at
the head of the canyon was well calculated toin-
spire the beholder with dread.

Man. beast, or demon, it stood erect, appar-
ently'between six and seven feet in stature. and
had in the min the semblance of humanity.
But its body and limbs Were ccvfil'ed Vii/h
coarse, sha hair;er that 01.8 3’ been
while from to head meanied 100 -of snowy
whitenem fax-below its waist a beard ofcor-

nding length, and also white, falling upon;

its .

.. Thus far this In erious bein ml ht have

been taken'i’or'somzséld Man of do '
But the most terrible features of this strange

apparition yet main to be described.

 

 

Awe. v.

' inn 6 w
' whgi‘inlopking at a man a clear, nean

 

From the midst of its beard gleamed' long
white teeth, interlocked like the fangs of a
of prey, the upper canine teeth being elonfi‘ated
so as to extend below the chin, like the tun a of
a walrus. But, more terrible still, from, every
part of its body seemed to sprin writhing ser-

nts. Its lingers and tees term ated in these
oathsome reptiles. About its head their inter-
laced bodies formed a hideous coronet, from
which darted a score of heads with uivering,
torked tongues and beadiike eyes; w is about
its body and limbs they dangled at length. or
hung in livin festoons. . .

Add to all t is that blood-curdlingcry, louder
than that of any animal in the mountains, and
you may form some faint conception of this
thing from which the miners fled in dismay.

_At sight of it even the cool Gentleman from
Pike could not wholly repress a shudder of
loathing. But curiosity chained him to the
spot, and he remained gazing at it.

With difliculty be restrained his horse, the
animal snorting and trembling with terror,
only its perfect training rendering it obedient
to his firm hand on the bridle-rein and the pres-
sure oi his knees.  5'

As for Judd Baker, at sight of thefmonster'he
raised his rifle and fired.

“By the eternull I’ve bored itl" he cried, as
the creature sunk to the ground. -

But instantly it arose, snatched the bullet
from its breast, flung it away, and came on,
making the canyon ring again with cries more
terrible than ever.

Judd Baker’s horse horse reared, pawedthe
air, whirled short round, and darted away,
bearing its master willy-mill down the canyon.

“Come on, cap’n, for Go ’s sakel" ‘criad the
faithful old scout, as he strove in vain to master
his frantic horse.

W hether or not William Carleton would have
fled before this in sterious monster, just then
his eyes passed on eyond and caught sight of
u peril about which there could be no doubt.

t came with a rush of mighty winds that
whirled the sand of the canyon bottom in odd -
ing clouds, and a roar il'at drowned even t 9
wild cry of the Ghost of the Canyon.

Without another instant’s delay the man who
had ’bravvd an unknown danger now whirled
and dashed after his companions. g '

“ Take to the ledges!” he shouted, as he ever-
took and passed them on his fleetcr horse.
“ Judd, there is onel Sacrifice your horse, and
save yourself!” . .

Then on like the wind be swept down that
rocky way, until turning a sharp angle heburst
upona scene that brought his hoartjuto his
mouth, and caused him to utter a sharp cry of
dismay. I

 

CHAPTER II.
THE srnc'rsa or THE W.

THE central figure is a man of commanding
stature, with strongly-marked features and a
long, flowing heard that gives him a sort of
patriarchal dignity.

His dress is rude and con and soiled and
worn; £yget it seems to par e of the rugged
charac r of the man. . ," ‘

In the hollow of his arm he carrlcsa long
rifle; bullet-pouch and powder-horn,are'slung
from his shoulders; and in' hisbroad‘ leathern
belt is thrust a heavy hunting-knife, ‘

He walks with the" stride of a con cror‘ there
is a grand, u lifted look on his ekp vehrow;
his eyes‘kin e and his bron , .fiice ispfill‘ow
witl‘K that high enthusiasm Which must ve
may ed the sturdy old Crusade”. .

At his side walks a younger man, ‘rhsps
three or four-and twenty, rather slight nbuild,
wightdetlicate, regular- feature; and small, :hahds
an ee . , ,  .
His dress though now soiled withttlge not of
travel isc ‘flne material and has " , , , out.
From s shirt bosom of sactlemglinn :98 a
magnificent diamond. H arm g" at costly
mounting and exq te workman:  t

In manner he has t e ease of a p ished man
of the world with that blase air whiq tcomeg
of“fast”civ11fe. . ' '5 ,

But Jules St. Auburn is redeemed from; eflem-
inacy by an eye Whmh, Winsome and :rather

' hen t rests upona woman afufimge:

t a
never fails to command respect, No, My in
his sober senses ever trie to ‘crowd him.”

Behind these men fo owe a' train'ofzwhiteo
tilted emigrant we on: drawn by plating-Eyed
oxen; and occupiedfiuy ihewimen’ande il ren
and household gods of these sturdy Sinners in
the new El Dorado; while last  liven the
cattle With which they aretosto _ their wilder-

ness home. ., . g
_On either side rise roc cllfl'on cliff shut-
tmg in the vista in front a in the rear by the

windings of the gorge, seeming cvertoclose the
little band in a deep well whose jagged outlines
at the top loom m against that car blue sky.
Under toot. t e way is" obstructed by huge
bowlders which, by 1:9?th and tthlow marine
of: the waters, have’beoome detached, from'tho
towering era , to fall into the “canygnuofitom
‘ 7' tech mists-W” h-

ountain.‘- ,ond‘be

JD!
1 sprin ton-en untiitheirjeggedngh
fiwmfimoothatz’dm '

"at ,4 M2“-.._._- a.  mew”: ‘

'i’K.

~‘w, fl... -_. .

m5; 2;.

lit! of bleached wood and weeds, lodged in g

In sand about their bases, also show the action
d water.

“Capt. Gunnison,” said St. Auburn, coming
out of a reverie, “ who is this Mrs. Amberleigh
who joined us at Atchisoni There is something
about her 3) sad that, man as I am, I can
scarcely restrain the tears of sympathy that
spring to my eyes, when I look at her face with
its patient suffering and piteous appeal. It
seems as if she were eVer on the pomt of weep-
in . yet never weeps. And she so young—cer-

y nos more than flvo-and twenty.”
, Was this mockery or genmne l'eelingl—for
about this man there was asubtle something
which eluded description. It was as if behind
the lofttest and most humane sentiments ever
lurked covert sneer.

A man of the world would have detected this
at once, and kept an eye on Jules St. Auburn-
but Capt. Gunnison’s simplicity saw nothing of
it. '
“ Such sensibilities do credit to your heart,
my boy—they do credit to your heart!" said he,
la inghishand affectionately on the shoulder
ofy the younger man, and casting one brief
galecnce of what seemed like gratitude into his

e.

Then, meeting the (Exestioning gaze of the
other, he withdrew his and and his glance to-

ther, almost preci itately; and one might

ave fancied a faint ush on his deeply bronzed
cheek.

“Iknow nothing of her past life,” he pun
sued dreamily, “nor of her future purposes.
She has not taken me into her confidence fur-
ther than to say that she wished to go to the
mountain country with people in whose com-
pany she would feel safe.”

“ And her child—" began St. Auburn.

But Captain Gunnison took the words out of
his mouth.

“ Ahl there my heart misgives me!” he sig ~
ed, with a foreboding shake of the head. ‘I
fear the wilderness will rove a rude lace in
which to transplant so do icate a flower ”

“Boo—oo—OONI” s ke the hollow heavens,
inn sullen menace t at made the ver
tremble, asif in corroboration of the eader’s
boding irognostic.

“Ear ! Was not that thunder?" asked St.
Auburn, with a show of concern. “ I have read

ly storiest of the sudden rising of these moun-
gn streams.”

“If it is a storm," answered the leader “it
is far distant among the mountain-tops.
will be time for no dangerous rising of the wa-
ters in this pass—if my information is not de-
fective; and I have taken every precaution to
acquaint to self from reliable sources—before
we emerge rom this narr0w defile upon as fair
aplateau as the eye need wish to rest upon.
Two hours, at most—with God’s bleasingi—will
mficeto tokens to that haven of security,
and there we will pitch our cam for the niggt.’

But again the canyon raver ted wi a
dull, wramful rear. The birds wheeled round
and round uttering shrill screams. Across the
strip of c ear sky swe t a cloud of dust and
addying leaves; and a 0 ill gust came down the
anyon, laden with fine, cutting sand.

“Our stock are getting restless,” said St. Au-
burn, diverted from the subject under discus-
don, and glancinglbackto where the cattle were
wowdlng each at or and bellowing mournfuily
“intervals, while their drivers were striving
to keep them in order, with much halloong
and it must he confessed, some profanitya‘l

well.

*1

 

In» women, too, were visible, thrusting their Iton

heads from the canvas tilts and casting anxious
guess at the mg of sky overhead which,
waver, was yet mly reassuringly us.
These women wereJ for the mos pertainin-
ly of plebeian stock—the mothers and ‘sters
ivea and diaughters of honest, yet rude and
e
" As for the children, they were a lot of shock-
haaded little semi-savages, as happy as kings,
wave as bees, and as mischievous as mon-
I
t

E‘
i
a

there were two rare exceptions to this
a of humanity, standing out with all
“has: and purity of calla lilies amid a.
gro h of sunflowers and hollyhocka, in
m in no of Mrs. Amberleigh and her daugh-
. n.
3038911 in the first wagon of the train, amid
such comforts 8-8 Captain Gunnison’s care could
secure for her without awakening the jealousy

rge§,§=

of the loss favored. Mrs. Ambe is h ressed .
r grayed her 5, to the highest tension and held well in hand.

m m, kissed her p white brow and ‘
ngmho her bright eyauiv’ith a love unspeak- ,

um! sweat child close to her side,

‘ able.
‘ And peering up into her mother‘s face, the
child smiled sweetly. encouragingly, until the
world-worn woman was fain to smile k
My“ with a sad m“ that would have
moved the beholder to . n

,5: .3 my precious darling, murmuredthe
y/“amid all m sorrow God ass
fines.“ “love! what s on I do
withoutlnyba ‘7” . ». v « ~ .
pm.» awamhvoieemi uid

, Mgmfi mother’s up and 

There .

The gentleman from Pike. f

 

ing her arms about her neck—“ my own pretty
mammal why are you always so sad! Wk?
don’t you ever lau h' mamma dear like Aunt e
Kimball l” (The c dreferred to the prettiest,
merriest and most intelligent of the emigrants
wives.) “ She is alway ha )py-—”

“ Hushl hush, my child l’ murmured the mo-
ther, while a shadow of pain flitted across her
face and her lips quivered.

“ amma," breathed the child, presently, in a
hushed whisper, while her blue eyes grew wide
with an undefined sense of mysterious solemnity
~“Mrs. Davison asked me yesterday—are we
goin to find papa—" .

Bu with a muffled cry of anguish. the mother
gathered her startled child to her bosom in a
s medic embrace, and turned her white, pain-

rawn face and humid, supplicnting eyes toward
heaven, as if cryin for mercy there.

Then she bowed er brad mto the little one’s
neck, and so rocked slowly back and forth, while
low, stifled sobs were wrung from the depths of
her hurstin ‘ heart.

The chil ‘clung to her stricken Parent, mute
and trembling, awed by this who miug tide of
emotion.

Sitting thus, they headed not the gathering
tempest, until a cry of dismay and an abrupt
stopping of the.wagon roused the mother from
her absorption in her mysterious grief to a sense
of. her surroundings an the swift oncoming of
im’Fendin danger.

he sig t to which she av‘vakened might well
brin her heart into her throat, and cause her to
hug er child more closely to her bos0m; for
down the canyon swept a horse and rider, like
some spirit of the storm borne on the wings of
the Wind.

They seemed in the van of a dense shadow,
which filled the mountain gor e behind them,
makin every wild lineament 3 nd out clear

y and be d a ainst the dark back round, 11nd fol.

i
i

‘ clouds of add in
rocks. y i

 

lowed swi tly at their basic, ike some dread

ctre hovering above them on dusky slow-
appln wings and aeekin ' to enVelop t em in
its bale ul shade—ghee a about them whirled
ust.

On came the orse like a thunder ' ltl—his
hide, as black as night, dappled with es of
snowy foaml—his gaping nostrils red as blood!
his eyes flashin flrel

Such bounds —such giant leapel—down the
rug pathwa , atrewed on every hand with a
thousand pitf a, shot the sure-footed beast,
with the directness and s d of a meteorl

Givin free rein to his rusted steed, the man
rode wi set teeth, stern. pale face, and steadi-
ly burnin eye. . I

No qua in there! He had faced death too
often and in man! forms to yield to its ter-
rornowi He' rodeli ea o'dl .. .

But now he catches afght 0 that doomed

band of ' to the new orado, who
have mpm in wonderhi ' Employ; and

nsinginhiastfi-ru hesw is 'dabovo
his h ' and s on in' steam ' tones:—

.“ a l. aokl Invalu- Hm, back! Back!
11hr d’s. so ‘, bad

And. mugs: this bol rider'muortor
stupefagtlon which makes him forget even the
great perilheraldedhfgllea St. Auburn turn:
ghastly as, eic ' ' :—

“My 1 a 7"

CHAPTER III.
ran nonnons or or:er Oman.

Am  the terrors of impendin damn .1 es
St. Auburn stood like one sudde y turn to

e. ,
Around him were men and women with
bluflmMChédVVI'li t 1dr ad f 1 co
e e o a vague y mi
qrehended  own ' n ‘ came rushln
e harbinger of death. a, deaf to the warn-
ing at the winner—was it with horror, or
tear, or hatréd or Wonder! , . . . . i
This man of , who prided himself on never
yielding to those perturbations of soul which
shake weaker nature ‘ new  as if rooted to
the spot whilehis ow'chee grew er 
Easier great bro eyes last the habi
"d expression tog “ .Wi e and wild, and
all the graceful linesi  supple figure liar-
dened into tense rigi ity". , .
And this stran emotion found its counter-
part inthe man w c was its occasion; . .
When be up ‘ at, the head of the canyon
in that uncer in race With death, the rider of
the black steed was perfectly cools d collected
—not careless, but with ev’erv‘ faculty wrought

At tofthedoo edw - inherose
him '. a suddgn glezln‘ofrgtdtement

in his
leain e' 'a‘dhissetfaee‘taltin on
lingo antidus' 'yligi tilde. g

At first com she‘s in all in his 9‘ fest ate
as he drew heights oouitfhdt he 
 the throng the man who s 006 so boldly in

bi th. , . . . . .
mastheire'esmetm ' blefl‘ifiggéswept

overtime faced! t estran er; , he ' ofaan

ices dread 3W9 place. taste livid H soot deadg

which. The pityinglig tight
lips were draWn back fr. his

 
    
 

‘ in the lurid flames of

a- ._.___._._..—..—_._.....__..._. . - ..-—‘-

. her swelling.

and surfing eyes, their heme

 

set teeth, and his nostrils dilated and turned
white with fury.
From an angel; of beneficence flying to the
e of imperiled humanity, he seemed sud-
§en1fy transformed into a demon of wrath mar—
s a] n the hordes of destmction and with them
sweep ng down upon a hated raco.

. Al this transpired in the tw inkling of an eye.
The hext instant he had a shot past, a mother’s
despairing cry had caught his car, and God had

ven into h s keeping that which was destined

,0 regenerate his nature and make amends for
allt the bitter past, though then he knew it
no .

Behind him he left dire confusion and the

‘madness of fear that dethroncs reason, leavingr

only the blind instinct of selfishness. But, amid

the horrors of that awful panic J nh-s Si. Auburn

wasa man of ice. That SWift-comingdoath which

crazed others was unhoedcd by him, as he stood

motionless gazing after the rapidly-rccedin

figure of the man who had so strangely movefi
in.

H “ So we meet again i" he muttered, with white
ps.

Then a blood-curdling shudder ran through
his frame, and us if to shut out not the resent
appalling scene, but on won more errlble
meriior , he covered his vycs with his hand.

But ‘et us see what it was that came to the
Gentleman from Pike in this moment when the
lurid fires of consuming hate brought foremost
:11 that was bitterost and most evil in his na—

ure.

One startled glance showed Mrs. Ambcrleigh
that the shadow following close at the heels of
the flyin" rider was caused by adense, black
cloud (f nged with the border of white mist
rolling upward oddying round and round, and
torn into ja e tongues by conflicting currents
of air) whit: was scndding across t e strip of
sky, a black, ermine-bordered gall, and marking
its passage b an ebon sha ow “lllch swept
along the em like a trailing mantle.

She heard the godzlike rlder c :

“ Back! for the love of heaVen A mountain
reservoir has burst, and is sweeping down the
can on, bringin death and destruction! For
Go ’8 sake, goo people, flyl Stay for nothing!
Fly for your vcr lives!”

hen this fee is woman—this mother, in
whoso soul there were one unspeakable sorrow
and one unspeakable love, rose to her feet, clasp-
ing in her protecting mother-arms close over
roast, her mildly-throbbing heart.
the one priceless been of that heaven which had
wned upon her in all else; and into her white
face came someth of that terrible defiance of
fate seen in the bla ng eyes and anguish-wrung
brow of ill-starred Rizpah—that other mother
of old, whose agony was equaled only by her
undying love.

So she stood—mute, motionless while shrieks
of terror rote on every hand, and direful confu-
3on turned that scene, but now of pouch, into n

pandemonlum of mad panic l—siood, with

but one thought in her heart, one image in her

el—stoodhuntil that mad rider and his pant-

b g! steed swept up to her, and would have pass! d
Y

Then, with One gaze, as if she soucht to pho-
‘ rhphu n her soul the image ofther sweet
c, 16 in not: so deep, so enduring, that all the
e Dildos could not (flare them i—with one kiss,
in whith‘throbbed and glowed all the fervor of a
mother's lifelong, deathless love, and the an-
guiin of a heart that gave its last warm, con-
staflz pulses then burst at purtin g l—she extend-
ed rliéart’s treasure to him: and in a voice
that, vibrant with intense assion, rose clear
and distinct from that wild ubbub as a strain
of music cleaves its way through a Babe] of dis-
chrdant Sounds, and arrested his attention as
nothing else could, she cried:

“Save my child l—oh/ sure my baby! "

She saw him look her way !—she saw his
stout arm thrust out as he swupt hyi—she felt
her child plucked from her graspl—she heard
the little-one’s cry of dismay:

“ Momma! Mammal”

Then, as the one object of her love was
snatched from her gaze on the wings of the
wind, the li ht of heaven faded out—the world
seemed to s] p from beneath her feet—and, with
a shriek that told the death of hope and happi-
ness she fell like one dead!

Well, let her liel—the sore heart is now at
peace l+her shuddering vision is not appalled by
the sweepin hell of horrors that seemed to in-
gqu the wor di __

When Ca tain Gunnison saw the herald of
death come ying down the gorge, he stood for
an instant like one in a dream, his thoughts had
been so far away from any premonition of
danger. On] for an instant, however, then he
roused himse f to the duties of his responsible
position and bounded to the rear of the wagon
containing'Mrs. Amberleigh, where his horse
was tied by a leading line.

A spring, and he Was in the saddle, and with
heel and rain forced his frightened horse to the

J “Aliandon the we no!” he shouted, at the
Wommm' . “Take your wives
(lid  oi fibrich and fly down the

"head at his command.

4 ' 

 

 

canyon. If you can get upon ledges, do w; but
risk none less than twenty feet high. Steady,
men! Now is the time to show your coolness.
Madden, for God’s sake! do not attempt to turn
that Wagon! Don’t on see that we will be in
hopeless confusion? top, men! If you dare to
disobey me, I will shoot you where you stand!
-—Wuit. Mrs. Fay! Stay in the wagon until
your husband comes for you. You cannot es-
cape unaided—Ho! herdersl drive the stock
down the canyon-down the canyon! Do not
let them come this wayl—tbey will trample

our”children to death! Great G! d! we re
08!!

Oh! it was a si ht to appall t‘ie stoutest heart!
No one man can d stem the line of that terrible
panic.

In many cases, no doubt, the frightened oxen
became unmanageable; but their drivers, too,
lost presence of mind; and the leader, whose
commands hall heretofore always received
prompt obedience, now saw men cramp their
wagons round so short in the narrow pass as to
overturn them, while frantic women gathering
their children in their arms, leaped from the
wagons and ran hither and thit er in aimless
bewilderment, then came the mad rush of ter-
rified cattle, jostling and leaping upon each
other. and trampling everything under foot in
their blind stampede!

Shrieks, prayers, oaths, and the bellowing of
brutes, blended, in an awful Babel, until the
black heavens were rent by a blinding flash of
lightnin , and the detonating thunder-crash
rocked t e everlasting bills and swallowed up
all pigmy sounds in its universal roar!

Captain Gunnison saw that all authorit was
at an end—his voice could no longer be eard,
nor would his counsels be heeded.

His duty to those who had intrusted them-
selves to his care now being fully dischar ed he
hadarighttolook to himself and—his res,
hisl—for where was there a rival claimant?

He had seen little Lilian Amberleigh caught
from the arms of her mother; and for the child
he rejoiced; for with that hold rider she stood
a better chance for life than any who were left
in that death canyon.

But with the shriek of the mother ringing in
his ears, and the sight of her falling as if str ckA
on to the earth by a lightmn shook, his heart
had given a great bound, an then stood still
Evith a sinking agony that almost unmanned

1m.

Now he wheeled his horse, and in a moment
had gathered the limp form in his stout arms;
then away l-forcing a ‘path through the horde
of rushing cattle an thundering down the
canyon on the trail of that peerless rider who
had pointed the way!

Then down fell the pail of impenetrable

loom. as if the demons ol destruction must
1: hide their battle-ground from the light of

do. I

§ext came the furies of the hurricane, rush-
ing down the canyon like loose hordes of raven-
ous wolves—howling among the crags and
oaverns—shriekin amon the pines that ,
writhed beneath t e lash o the tempest lilie liv-
ing things in torture—swooping down upon the
now disordered train of wagons, some over-
turned, some inextricably interlocked, a mass
of dire confusion, with madly ng brute
creatures and e ually frantic human t -—pluck-
ing the white tilts from their fasten gs and
sending them whirling away into the dar ess
like frightened ghosts!

h I‘ll'ext swirling sheets of rain, and pelting
ai ' .

Last, a nameless horror.

Out from the blackness of the upper can on
it comesl—a demon! impersonal, unreason g
irresistiblel—a monster, with tossin mane o
snow-white foam and ray! a.mghty roar
that makes the granite c ifls quiver! an insati-
able maw in which all things perish i—char g
down that way of death until it overwbe ms
and ingulfs the doomed band, and the feeble
cries of God’s creatures are swallowed up and
hushed forever!

Then on it rushes, bearing on its black and
foam-dappled bosom the wreck of_ animate and
inanimatetiings, dashin them in its fiendish

sport against opposing wlders and jutting
V

crass.

And, throned on a pinnacle of rock. canopled
by the black mantle of night and With the
lightnings his torch’bearers—crowned with his
coronet of hissing reptiles, robed in his ermine
of snow-white hair and heard, and sceptered
with a wriggling serpent, stood the Ghost of the
Canyon, filling the intervals of thebellowing
thunder, rush ng waters and roaring winds
with his weird cries—a veritable Kin of Chaos
reveling in the destruction of a worl l

CHAPTER IV.
run urn AND burn modem.

 

heG-

antlemannfrom Pike.

 

 

diilerent way, stiri ing new is )rings in his being.
80 was he destined to be Is back to kindred
humanity by the hand of a little child!

But first came lifel—escape from the jaws of
that swift following vampire! and glancing
back over his shoulder, he saw that he would
he certainly overtaken before the wildest ef-
forts of his gallant steed could hear him out of
that death-trap! _

“ M own worthless life I might yield up,’
he re ected, bitterly; “ but not hers! not the
dawning existence of this little an cl 1”

So he rode on, gazing despairirg y at the un-
moved clill‘s on either hand, racking his 1 rain
for an expedient, where it seemed as if there
were none.

And still the monster gained upon him-
nearerl—ever nearerl—howl.ng in its rage,
laughing in its glee, yct ever nearcri——ohl so
fatally nearer!

“ But there must be an escape !—lhero shall
be an escape!” he cried aloud, in his new- found
incentive to live.

And still his eyes shot burning glances
through the gloom and driving rain and 1 em: 3
hail; and still tl.o roar of that pursuing demon
goaded him on nearly to di:tracrion.

Thou, “ hen he was almost in tho (-lu‘ches of
deptth, his eye discovered a doubtiul way to
en e . ‘

On y one endowed with almost superhuman
stren rtb might accomplish the fnteiul task; Lut
that ‘ttle bundle ct Lolplcss innocence. appeal-
iexiirg to his heart, prompted him to superhuman

ort.

“ I can do it!” he cried-“ to care her! But,
oh! my noble horse, I must abandon—nay,
sacrifice 3 oul—you who have been ever faith-
full—you whose sure-footed speed has snatched
me from death a score of times! But, Invinci-
ble I vs ould give my life for hers! You then,

ill not gru ge yours? I know you wi:l not!”

His hand fell upon the rein, drew the horse to
the canyon wall, and there halted him.

In S no of that swilt- coming terror, which
won! have made another animal unmana "e-
able, the trained steed stood still, though a
trembled in every limb.

With lightning agility the man sprung erect.
so that he stood in the saddle; tossed the child
upon a narrow ledge above his head; and,
arguing: from his horse’s back, caught the

_ e of t e slippery shelf with his fingers; then
shouted: '

“ Go, Invincible! go], Good-by, my noble
follow! I shall never see your like again!”

Obedient to his master’s word, the noble
steed sprung away down the canyon, and was
soon lost in the gloom, while the sound of his
flying hoofs was swallowed up in the roar of the
on-comlng flood.

Exertlng a remarkable strength, and display~
ing great suppleness, the man drew himself
up on the ledge.

Butt he was not yet beyond the reach of the
we r.

Rapidly unwinding a coil of slender rope
from his. waist, be tied one end about the bony
of the child, the other being Secured to his own

person.

Into a crevice in the rock above his head he
thrust the strong blade of his bowie-knife: and
after almost superhuman eflort gained a fcotin
on it: then, from this vantage-ground manng
to get the tips of his fingers‘over the edge of
another ledge. 7

Now ensued a terrible stru
man drawing himself u the s ppery face ‘of the
rock, with the rush of t e mighty flood already
upon him, so that he dared not look round, an
below him the helpless babe for whom he was
putting forth these nt exertions!

A movement of t e child in her fri ht, and
she might slip from the led e where he ay; or,
if washed awn by the doc , she must inevita-
bly dra him rom his hold by the rope that
bound em together!

But he had calculated that chance.

_ He would save her or perish himself!

But at last, fortified by the indomitable pluck
with which his little cha had inspired him,
his iron muscles won; an the hero lay panting
and exhausted on the ledge.

Not an instant too soon; for there came a
shrill cry from below and a wrench on the rope
which nearly dragg him from his shelf' and
he knew that the monster had tossed its orm-
less hands upward and snatched his prize from
her narrow resting-place.

In his des ir the man cried aloudz‘

“ Great (1! I beseech thee!”

Following the watyi led by this intrepid rider,
Captain Gunnison d not hope to gain the en-
trance to the canyon: he remembered a, sloping
ledge which they had passed, and hung his life
—and hers I—upon‘ the chance of reacbin it

 

 

A MOMENT ago the Gentleman from Pike had
stood alone in the world, 9 stern, hard m
bound to the rest of mankind onl by a tie 0
hate. But at the moment when t t hate was i
wro ht to the highest pitch of bitterness, he
foun within the circle of his arms a creature ,
whose helplessness, whose innocence, whose in- l

' beauty appealed to him in an entirely l

3902]” they were overtaken by the all-in ng

All sounds, save the earth-rocking crash or
the thunder, were now lost in the continuous
roar of the rushing waters, with which, the
smooth walls of the canyon reverberated with
that peculiar eflect noticed by one standing be-

sides _ , bellinastee le.
'Tho"ridor could  regular

.m‘. i—M ..

le—bm exhausted

 

fl

clash of his horse’s iron-bound hoof: on the ring-
ing rocks.

Already he felt the chill breath of the des-
troyer on his cheek, when that pathway leading
up to possible safety loomed into view.

“ One more efiort,” he shouted, “ and we can
defy the hungr billowsl” v

But the swas of the water was at his very
heelsl—the wind-driven spray swept over and
around him !—an inarticulate prayer quivered
on his lips !—he thought himself already ingulf-
erl l—when he swerved his horse to one side, and
felt the noble beast mounting that narrow arr
cent in great bounds, every one of which bore
lzim further out of the clutches of the swirling
mcelairom! ~

Y! sl—unscathedl—with her still clasped over
his breastl—he had reached the blessed goal!

He was dizzy with the lifting of the crushing
weight of that terrible suspense; a: (1 his swell-
ing heart—upt his dry lips—sent up a. prayer of
thanksgiving to the nicrcilul Preservcr! .

But, ialf- way up, the ledge became too nar-
row for tho blindly-rushing steed. ,‘

Captain Gunnison felt l.is leg crushed against
the we lot the canyon: then the horse, rebound-
irg from the rock, swerved outward, and lost
his footing!

An (xpcrt horsemen, the captain lea (1 Ci!
toward the Inside; and while the anfma went
toppling down into the canyon-bed from which
le had just escapcd, the man blighted u n his
foot, but was overborno by the weight e car-
ried in his arms, and fell upon his face on th
sli pery rock. . . '

o scramble again to his feet, andllmp up the
precarious pathway until it bicanre so narrow,
that even he could proceed no iurther, was the
work of an instant.

Then he turned, just in time to see' the
grandest, yet most appalling spectacle he had
cVer witnessed—a wall of hissing foam, filling
the narrow defile from side to side, rushing
onward with a speed that would overmatch the
flcctest horse, and swallowing up everything
that lay in its path! '

Seen in the alternate gloom and lurid light-
ning- glare, amid the howling winds and crash-
ing thunder, and pelting rain and hail, it was a
spectacle to quail a heart of steel! ,

It passed!

Then came that which sickened the heart of
the man with horrorl—the wreck of what an
hour ago had had unity and purpose, life and
boundirg hopel—wadgons and cattle, human
beings and househol furniture, all mingled in
horrible ccnfusionl—some alread, hastly in
death, a few clinging feeny to w a ver trail
on ort chanced wit in reach!

ith a prayer for their safe , Capt. Gunnison

, turned to meet a new danger o himself.

Another billow, higher than first mad ,
the one which further on swept little Lilian
from her ledge, came rolling toward him, lick-
ing the canyon walls as if determined that noth-
in should esca e!

ushing up t e incline thathad promised him
security, it mounted to his waist! - .

Frantically he tried to cling to the bare rock;
but in the giant gm of the monster his feeble
strength was as not ing: and triumphantly it
swept him away, to sink beneath the icy flood!

The waters, tearing to be cheated of their

rey. became demons of fu . They shrunk

rom his clutch, and left emp iness beneath ‘his
tread. They bufleted him with their formless
hands, made confusing Babel in his ears-um,
when he would have asped to relievsrithe
furnace glowing in his reast, rushed pcll-mell
into his mouth, as it eager to seek the  of

0.

Now strange lights thrilled. along his nerve of
vision; strange sounds flowed down the avenues
of hearing; strange intelligences came to 'every
wondering sense; and when at last the waters

arted above hls bead, and, the air of hoover:
anned his cheek, he scarce realized that ho was
indeed returned to the blessed elixir of life! .

But nature was quick to resume her my,
and, without knowing not how, he tound him-
self clinging to the trun of a tree, and coughin
the stranglingater from his lungs, and realised
that he was ing borne with ightning speed
between walls of rod: that rose sheer to' the
lowerin heavanl. 2

Eager y be strained his eyes on ahead, until
suddenly the walls fell away cu either hand—
he had reached the mouth of the canyon!

In safety I -

His soul yet thrilled with the question when
there was a shock; he was torn from thotreo
that had susta' . med him so long and so well: then
came a stinging sense of agony that sewed to
pervade his whole being, and—ohliflonl

CHAPTER V.
‘ A Hour wrrn mans. v
Wm the flood caught Jules St. Auburn, he
was overwhelmed and torn from the back of
his horse. As he struggled to the surface or the
eddyin maelstrom he was struck and partially
stunneg by what proved to be a wagon-body
which at first jeopardian his lite, aim-rd

 

PNVedhissalvation. » H x. “1
Words cannot ego: the 1101705170! that
W Armed hummus”

l

«e

l
W.

The Gentleman from Pike. 5

 

the whirling currents. Again and again in that
icy flood he suffered the agony of death, to come
back to a \dime conscious life, where only
instinct guarded hi: hold upon his uncertain
support.

ut through it all there was an anguish of
horror that id not spring from present peril.

‘ He saw Captain Gunnison, and shouted faintly
to him. Afterward he caught a glimpse of the
man who had made so brave an effort to save
little Lilian Amberleigl: Then an angr wave
dashed upon his head, tiring him down downl
into that hell of waters alrea y strewn with the
ghastly cor see of his late companions. When

8 emer ed) again, his eyes were wide and
staring, oul With the impurities of the flood;
on his face was stamped a horror as terrible as
that frozen on the immobile visages of the dead!

From that immersmu he brought no rational
thought To his distraught fancy it seemed
that from rayless blackness the world suddenly
burst into an all-enveloping conflagration.
Above, the brazen heavens glowed with the
fiery intensity of a furnace seven times heated,
while from horizon to zenith it blazed With
blendin ' flashes of incessant lightning. Below,
the cart stretched a vast plain of molten iron,
lashed by furious hurricanes into Wrathful bil-
10W8, whose toppling crests were livid flames.

Btrewn on this infernal sea. lay the ghastly
dead of all the earth, not writhing in Wild-eyed
anguish, but motionless, bloodless pale, With
livid wounds, and half—closed eyes shown the
bluish glaze of death—all the more horrib e by
reason of this strange lnsenmbility. And i or
every cor so there was a fiend of horrid shape
and devil sh' malignity. \

As he arose to fly~whither he knew not, for
this hell of horror extended on every hand as
far as the eye could range—the demons espied
him, and sprung upon him in countless legions,
making the heavens reecho with their diaboli-
cal cries

Now he fought them hand to hand, with a
save e fury that outrivaled that of his demon
nasal nts, snatching stranlge weapons from
their hands, and dealing a about him, with
nil-{wing rapidity, irresistible blows, before
we];th they went down like grain before the
31 e

A wild exultation seized him, seeming to dis-
tend his body to gigantic proportions, until his
foes were as igniies by comparison. He 'ellcd
in delirious riumph. He drove them efore
him like chafl before the wind!

And now from the nethermost depths sprung
up a shape more hideous than the wildest conjur-
a ion of a maniac’s nightmare. Its awful cry
drowned those of the lesser demons, and tho
ferocity of its assault was commensurate With
its horrid aspect.

Before it they scattered in ever direction,
with cries of terror. The man w 0 had con-
quered them, frczon with horror, was powerless
to evade the attack.

The shock was terrific! He felt the arms of
the monster close about him like trip‘o ha ids
of steel, crushing the life out of his body. With
a sense of loathing uuutlerable he felt the cold,
clamm contact of serpents! Their hisscs
piercedy his ears; their fetid breath filled his
nostrils; his eyes saw nothing but their wriggling
bodies, quivering tongues, and littering eyes!

A moment of such sickening orror, and the
man must have ex ired in a. shudder of loath-
inglf-but he was) fted from his feet and hurled
to the ground with a violence that nearly
bereft him of consciousness.

But even in that frenzied moment Jules. St.
Auburn did not lose the instinct of the trained
athlete. As agile as a cat, he trlp ed the mon-
ster in whose grasp he was as help see as a. child,
then sprun to his feet, ready for flight.

At this nstant a larger serpent _which the
fallen'monster carried in his hand like a wand
or stafl, s rung a coil about the ankle of the
would-be u tive. But a furious stamp on its
head with his other foot relaxed. the detaining
fold, and the man darted away like the Wind!

Was, all this the con ‘urati in of adelirious
brain: or had Jules St, ubum met the Ghost
of the Canyon, and lived to escape?

Let us see!

Its dread work accomplished, the tempest fled
awayas suddenly as it had come. The black
cloud-poll wa swept from the face of the sk ,
discovering the sun restln on the western s
and flooding the glad ear h with warmth and
brightness and beauty. Nature wore her fair-
est smiles, yet on the leaves hung pendent drops
of crystal in tears on the lashes of a coquettish
beauty who woos you Into forgiving and forget
tin her momentary tulance.

ut to one funerea spot there came no glad-
nessl It was the debouchure of a mountain
gorge, paved with water-washed sand, and
strede with the ghastly debris of an overwhelm-
ed wagon-train. , I

There 13. motionless the bodies of men and
women an little children, with sand and weeds
in their hair, in their glazed eyes, on their livid
gig—and about them lay the wreck of things

1: told of home and h§PPm°35l
' ‘In the midst of the silent dead, one woman
the head ofa ed man on her
anthem!“ “wdhozm h"?

 

lips rose in plaintive acrents that lullaby with
which all our mothers have soothed our troubled
spirits to repose— .
"Hush, my babe! Lie still and slumber,
Holy angels guard thy bed!“

Then came dusky forms from the neighboring
rocks, and gathered round to gaze upon this
piteous spectacle. ‘

And hideous in war—paint, with their hands
and weapons yet unwashed from carnage, the
deadliest foes of her race and Sex stood round,
their save 9 instincts for the time in abeyance,
and from ip to lip passed the word:

‘ ‘ Medicine l”

Among all Indians, the insane are held to be
under the especial protection of the spirits of
the unseen world: ence “ medicine,” or mys
tcry, was an amulet which would protect Mrs.
Ambcrlcigh from personal danger.

Not so with Capt. Gunnisou, if he proved to
be alive.

Mrs. Amberleivh evinced no fear of the Utes;
but as their chieiP bent over Capt. Gunnison to
ascertain whether he was alive while his braves
scattered to des oil the dead, 5 e cried:

“ Oh! do no touch my baby! Hush—you
will awaken it!" _

Then, bending over the clammy face and kiss-
ing the soddeu hair, she resumed her piteous
lul aby— .

“ Heavenly blessings, without number,
Gently fall upon thy head I"

With firm, yet not harsh hands, the Ute chief
unlooscd the clasp of the poor deluded mother,
and said in guttural English; ,

“ Uwhl Papp00se heap sickl Injun flx ’um
all right. No make ’um 5 heel.”

“ What! my baby sick ” cried the mother,.
with a startled look. “Is that why she lies so
still and is so cold?"

“ Powerful close call! Bully boy! Pull ’um
t’rough all right,” was the somewhat enigmati-
cal yet withal kindly, assurance of the to.

Then, pinching the hard. muscles of Capt.
Gunnisons leg, he made this rather startling
announcement:

“Tough old buck! In un have hi h old timel
Make ’uin good roast! ghl O. , you bet!”

And he laughed a blood-curdling chuckle.

But now arose a great commotion. The sav-
age robbers and mutilators of the dead come
upon one Whom the flood had spared.

With their barbarous cries they gathered

around him, assailing him from every side, like .

dogs that have brought a stag to bay. And he
fought them like a palhd demon, Witha fury
more intense, with cries wilder than their own,
until they fled with su rstltious terror before
the maniac glitter of his eyes.

Then rose a cry that curdled the blood of
every one that heard, and in their very midst
sprung up a monster that had crept u on them
from the mouth of the go e, unnotice in their
preoccupation—a Thin so ideous that the sav-
ages forgot all else in 1 Cir pré cipitato flight. ,

The f ‘erzicd white man and tr e snake-demon
met in a ti rrihle encounter, in wlrich both went
down. Then the man rose and fled. The mon-
ster was dcterrcd from pursuit by n. sweetly sad
voice raised in a plaintive lullab .

A mcmcnt later, the Thing stood beside the
woman who crooned the song of infancy to a

rown man, while she rocked his unconscious
Ecad on her bosom—stood with a strange hush
upon it, as if that plaintive music soothed its
demon nature.

1Slo the night fell, and the darkness shrouded

Then from the mountains came a lot) ~drewn
hawl, which was picked up and echocr and re-
cchocd on eve side; and through the gloom
crept skulkinfi arm, with egos that gleamcd in
the darkness ke livni cos . And the bowls
were interspersed wit savage suarls and the
click of one ing teeth.

The term e cry of the demon scattered the
mountain wolves for a moment: but soon they
returned. and while they wrangled over their

horrible feast, the cry of the Ghost of the Canyon-

s ed further and further u the gor e beariii
ughatP—through the darkgessl g ’_ g—

 

CHAPTER VI. ' '
NOTICE TO QUIT.

“ Gums, thar‘s no use talkin’woomethm’s got
to he did 5’ _ _

Judge Wiggins—the “boys” called him judge

rhaps for no better reason than that he was
him-headed and something of a demagogue—
spoke decidedly. -

The “boys” sat around in frowning silence,
aiming tobacco-juice projectiles at the sawdust
filled spithox With a sullen, dogged ferocity that
b kc their determination. '

utler Bob, the "boss" of the No-tlc Saloon,

watched the proceedings a, little anxiously,

though he did not venture to interfere.

The man lip-stairs. On Whom this informal
court was sitting in Judgment, had certainly
contributed largely to ‘ make things lively ” at
the No-tic, and. b “ golu’ thehun figur’,” that
is to say, paying or everything. like a. prince—-
money down no questions—and “settin’
‘em up all hands round ” whenever the boys be-
gun to “look down in the

.ng’in’ anny sthranger; so

 

 

W.” W WM finely

stream of “ dust” flowing into Sutler Bob’s
money-till.

But the soverei sof Hard Luck Cam had
come to perceive t int the interests of the o-tic
and the community at large wore, at leastin
this one case, inimicnl, and iii convention assem-
bled were deliberating whut step would most
conduce to the genera welfare.

“W831, gents,” said llloxy, taking his im-
mense quid of tobacco from his mouth into his
hand and tessi‘ng it thence through the open decr-
way “I’ve trumped this byarmountain coun-
try rom Vir inia City to Los Angelcs an’ from
Denver to risco; an’ as fares 1~kin see it
always comes to the some wmdin' u -iheso
flash ents runs to the end 0’ their tet er, an’
then t’s git ur swing.”

“I rec on tbar hain’t no galcot in this hyar
community what goes back on the ustebourds
in the hands ofas uar’ man,” gal bi Mose
Finley, with an air f-apologetic, half eflant;
“ but cf 8. doggoned clever slight don’t come in
some-what in the operations 0’ the Frisco
sharp, hung me if I wouldn’t like to have his
luckl I’d guarantee to rake every comp from
hyar to sundown I”

And by way of impressing his conviction on
his auditors, ‘he brought down upon the rude
table at his elbow a fist as pondcrous as one of
his sledfi-hliammers, with a force that made the
glasses ind the bar jingle.

“ It’s small mutther to me,” said Tom O’Connor,
pulling hard at the stump of a clay ‘pipo into
which he had cut plug tobacco. .‘ Divil an
ounce have I had all winther to put up on the
swate desavers, whin me wake’s praties an’
bacon was laid in—wid a toothfu! o’ the cray-
ther, d’ye moindl But I alwn 5 back me mates
say-‘ Give the
dirthy blsggard his walkin’ papersl’ It’s no
loss he’d be to any decent camp. ’

After this there was some b uster and pro-
fanity indulged in by men who had met the
Frisco Shar and come mm with lighter

etc and eavier hearts. Al declared stout.

y that the loss of their gold-duet was a matter

of perfect indifference to them—no truo Ameri-

can will ever admit that he cares anything for

more l—but still the sense of the assembly was

:hat t1 to obnoxious party he served with anotice
o u ,

“ move that the judge lck out his own
fiammittee and fire the sc wag out!" said

oxy.

This somewhat unparliamentary proposition
receiving the equally informal assent of the as-
sembly, Judge Wig 3 expressed his willing-
ness to “give all the ya a show fur the fun,"
and left“ to such as chose to follow him. The
result was that the “ committee” comprised the
whole body- litic of Hard Luck.

“You’ll nd the fight pp-stalrs—asleep, I
reckon ” said Butler b, his looks but 1100ng
disguis 3 his lack of sympathy, though
tongue was too wise to run counter of public
sentiment so pronounced.

The “commiffe” “cut for (he carpetlen
stair, that creakcd an ineffectual protest Leneath
their hcav tread.

Judge} iggius pounded a rousing summons
on tho coor of unplcncd deal boards, which so-
curcd imperfectly by lcoso hinge and latch,
shockand rattled as if about to fall to DICOCS.

.From within came the involuntarys and of
some one suddenly awakening lrom number. a
s! ht rustle of straw, then a voice:

‘ Eh! ‘ Who’s there? Come in 1”

Judge Wiggins raised the latch—tho door was
not be ted—and walked into the chamber, fol-
lowed -by as many of his committee as could
crowd their way in.

They found a small, square room, with uncur-
peted pine floor, urpapncd ire will]:I and
sloping eceiling, evident! f 0 under do of
the too . This was lighted y a window can-
taluing four Small panes of glass.

-A rough pine bunk'in one crrner a wooden-
bottomcd c air and half a dozen nuiis driven in.
to the wall ,to serve as clothcs licolzs, ccmprlsed
the gumlshing of this far from Sybsrltio apart»
men .

On the bunks. straw tick did service can mat
tress: but over it were spread white sheets—a

‘ luxury in Hard Luck Camp!

Between the shoots, with one arm thrown in-
dolently above his head, a pea.er a dainty gen-
tleman in a'ruflled night-s wt of line cambric.
Over the back of the chair were carefully ar-
ranged clothes in kce ing, the outer garments
balm g of the best qua] y of unsorted foods and
most fashionably cut, the un erclctics of the
finest fabrics and most delicate workman
A pair of French boots stood beside the ,
their morocco legs falling limp, not standing
stiff like the stagie boots common to a mining
camp. Commodious leather saddle—bags l
o . u on the floor, disclosing ruffled- and flu

‘ rts and dainty toilet articles.

From what appeared to them rather enemi-
nate wearing-apparel the miners turned with
mingled contain endanger to glower at the
nonchalant gen emcnwho lay among hispil-
lows with no appearance of surprise or uncul-
ness on his face. '

The face was spare and sallow, with d
farmed Wand large. hnruidm‘

6 The Gentleman from Pike.

 

 

 

eyes, the mouth being bid by a mustache train- the hall and stairs; and with much jostling and  what’s got his skin riddled_like a

ed to curve over and cover the lips, while a look ‘ profanity—n0 matter. public or private, was

of fine, wavy black hair fell carelessly across the , ever, without a free in
‘ consummated in th t delectable country!

smooth forehead.

Over all was an air of dissipation and blau
cynicism.

This is what an interval of ten year! had
made of Jules St. Auburn. ‘

“ Good-morning, gentlemen. I’m sorry Ican’t
psk you all to be seated,” said the Frisco Sharp,
in tones of polished suavity; and with his white,
aristocratic hand, blueeveined and taper-fin. %
gered, he drew the coverlet~a gray army blank- I
et 1—5:) that the “ solid men” of the parity might I
sit, if so disposed, on the side of the bu .

A cool reception this from a man who did not
know but that the “ committee " had waited
upon him for the purpose of taking him out and
sus ending him to the nearest red-wood tree!

very man in the room a reciated the won-
derful nerve that madepossifi c this careless ease
in the face of probable ignominious death. As
Moxlyuafterward expressed it:

“ r unadulterated sand, the Frisco Sharp
takes the cake!" ' '

Even Judge Wiggins was disconcerted and at
a loss how to proceed for a. moment. Then he
cleared his throat and said:

“ As we’ve come on business, you needn’t ut
yourself out to give us no French frills nor am
_cy flounces. They’re all right; but they ain't
incur line. Ye see, the have has made up their
minds that the air 0’ Hard Luck is bad for deli-
cate constitutions; and they think that}: gent of
about your flgur’ would find it money m‘pooket
to travel fur his health. We hain’t recommen~
(lin’ no partic’lar locality. North, south, east or
\ rest—an whar, in fact, say ten mile away
from the o-tic.” ‘

During the address the face of the Frisco
Sharp was a study.

His eyes slowly contracted, as they tested
mlmly, unwaverineg on the face of the speaker.
:"L suspicion of a smile lurked about his mouth.
i‘erhaps his lip curled slightly beneath his over-
han 'ng mustache.

“' har’s only one ’int that we come down on
heavy " ursued udge Wiggins; “ but that
ilam he lays herself out, you bet! Eta gent
:1 ; invited to ste down and out. it's understood
iab he takes a his baggage with him, so’sthar
Won’t be notliin’ to come back fur, unless he
: u to hankerin’ after the grand bounce; For
1:? he’s ketched inside 0’ the city limits after-
~"ard, bet yer life Hard Luck 'll set down on
him. like a ten-acre brick-yer l” .

“ That’s ospel!" growled lg Mose Finley,
\' ith a supp emental oath.

" Divi! a less!” seconded Tom O’Connor.

And a rambling assent proceeded from others
i L the room an out in the ball within the
 mind of Jud 'e Wiggins’s voice. '

The Frisco harp cooll t - ed hlmself on his
3 il‘ows, so that he coul with the leasteflort.

! ok at his frowning judges, from the foot of

l is bed to the doorway through which were ‘
tjirust the frowsy heads of many who could not
gain admittance for their bodies, and scanning
t. Iem calmly—indeed withsome of the curiosity
r2'ith which one looks at a managerie of caged
beasts—replied: ‘ 2 ‘

“ Gentlemen, I thank you for the distinguish
e‘l honor conferred u n me, by the citizens of
this flourishing ham et waiting upon main a
bady; also for the delicacy With which our
able exponent and fellow-townsman has nted
that a change of residence on my part would be
agreeable to gentlemen whose favor I haVe
made it in study to couciliate, it seems with in
zucoeisi. * _t_;ndsuch casesh I tiigst I shalllnevet:

e pu ic-spiri e enou to grace
the sentiment of the mafiorityyieMa I ask Ko'w
long I shall be permitted to enjoy t ’e h it.le
ties of Hard Luck Camp by the grace of en-
terprisin citizens?” ‘ ’ '

‘ Waa , we Mint in nosweat,” widths judge.
“ Three or'four hours ought to be enough tinie
for a man to git in. Eh, boys?” ' '

The “ boys " growled their concurrence.

“ What time is it now?” asked the Frisco
Sharp, suppressing a. awn behind his hand, ad-
ding apologetically:-- ‘ My watch ninconvenient
to get at beneath my illow."

“ Nine o’clock,” rep 'ed the judge.

“Then I won’t be disturbed before noon???
with relief in tone and look. , '

“ Ef we don’t find nobody to swmg at one,
we’ll put the rope on the shelf!” was the seas
tentious response. ‘ " “ ’

“ Thank you,” said the Frisco settling
himself for a renewed nap. “As ' on go down
will you oblige me by sending up 6 landlord ’

But the " boys" were curious tosee theend of
this matter wondering what this cool 8'8
man would havoto say toSutler Bob; and one
of their number shouted at the top of his sten-

rian lun : ‘ " '

“ Ho l—fi‘ise landlord l-hand ’im up this way l’v‘r

“ Butler Bob wanted!” ' . ' ‘ .

“ fits right up to the captain’s oficel”

“/ . e way thar! Chassez him tothefront!"

“‘Hyer comes the cherub!” ' “ 

‘53:3: in, Bob, an’ do. the honors 0’ Hard
Luck!" - ’ ' ~ : .,

"We’re with , ole maul”

  

 

M m c  of the cries that went down

ulgence o the latter,
ler Bob stru led "t ough the crowd, and pre~
touted himee before his guest.

“Ah, landlord! Sorry to trouble you,” said
the Frisco Sharp in his most indolent manner.
“ But I have just received an unexpected sum-

mons which will compel me to foreFo the hospi- !

talities of your excellent house. Ca! me at twen-

tymi utes of twelve will you? And, by the ‘

way andlord, lay yourself out on a square
meal. I shall want a solid base of operations
for m journey. Give my horse a good groom-
ing. . eanwhile, if any of these gentlemen care
to drink, enter it on my account.

“All right, boss,” said Sutler Bob, hoping
rivatel ’t at he “boys” would not be deterre
y any e scruples from drinking at the ex-

pense of the man they had just "‘ bounced.”

“And now, gentlemen," said Frisco Sharp,
“ I will bid you good~morning, and to such as
I may not meet again good-by. You all have
my best wishes. An better luck in the next
strange; that chance sends to your door.”

Sosayin with the most w nning of smiles,
he turned face to the wall.

The “ committee” withdrew.

“Nobody had nothing to say!”

At twenty minutes of twelve the Frisco
s was called—made ’a faultless toilet—de-
scen {ed and ate his dinner leisule and with
an evident relish—mounted his horse—waved a

aceful adieu to the crowd assembled to see

im off, big Mose Finley with‘a coil of rope in
readiness presentinga most suggestive feature
72nd Idisappeared among the pines at one
a 1m , .

Twenty-four hours later this man, to whom
danger and death were idle jests, was riding
with‘his usual ease and nonchalance through a
can on of the mighty Sierras, when his horse
and enl stepped, tossed his head, miffed the
 an refused to advance.

 Bulking! What’s the matter with the

And the Frisco Sharp put spurs to his refrac-

to? M. \ _

,he animal reared and tried to turn round;
but the many conquered in the brief struggle.
and again dug his spurs into the horse’s quiver-

tn .
The animal madea sin is bound, then stood

as if rooted totbe ,, treman in eve
nerve, his head high, _ ,ears pricke » forwar ,
bile, Vb] sing. " *  '

Then from among the ore sprung up an ob-

tct of such terrible aspect at man and beast
re

paral. ,yzedb the ht.

9l‘he Frisco Sh y basisgeen this thing once he-

i?“ among the weird conjurings of delirium.
ow a shudder of horror and loathing ran

throu b that frame which had never thrilled

with car before any peril that man could de<

vise.
Jules St. Auburn stood face- to face with the
Ghost of the Canyon! ‘

CHAPTER VIII.
sums IN maven. 1

FOR a moment the Frisco Sharp and the
Ghost of the Canyon stood voiceless and motion-
less regarding each other. * ' ' ’

‘ Then‘from agorge that opened at right an-

les into the can on came the sound of fire-
firms, the, rattle 9 shots blending with savage
wamfies.- ‘ ‘ ' ‘

The Ghost of the Canyon turned its head as if
to listen; then, with a yell that made the rocky
walls of the canyon resound, turned and rushed
u the gorge in the direction of the fighting.

he horse of the Frisco Sharp wheeled and
bore him—:perhaps nothing loth—in the oppo-
site direction, at a runan pace.

But let us precede the host of the Canyon.
and learn the cause of battle. '

“Waal darn m hide. cap’n, of we ain’t in
jest a tactic the fig test box that ever was put

on white men!

“ I’m afraid ou’re right, Judd.”

“Right? cal, I reckon! Them ole tan-
b9.ka is on their reg’lar 5 ring rampage—begun
a leetle airly this year, a ong o’ the open wea-

eg-een.” bound to kgefi it up all summer.
This hyar’s a powe ’commodatin’ gov-
erfment, a—stockin’ them ole leather-faces
With shootin’airons an’ ammynition to salt
giaowine free American citizens with! Dog
my cats, at I wouldn’t like to hev some 0.
them that gosh-hanged fools what run the Injun
Burch-run it into the ground, cuss ’eml—l’d.
like to hev one or two of 'em ht hyar now,
611’ 35‘ 'em “P fer targets for o e Dick’s Hat-
ba-nd'an’ his can: 0’ pets to slin cold lead into.
Thar’d be some sense in that. raps their chin-
11111510 ’ud be in another key at the next settin’
0" Congress. .I tell ye what it is, cap’n. thar‘s
nothin‘ in this hyar world like a man’s takin’»
his ownpbysic, fie! toe hten out his ideas,
Ef be'bn keep the. dose on
kin bet heavy every: time that the thing’s squar’.
But fer a lotof oleetoughten-hettlee to set two

 

 

orthree thousand miles'off~keepin’ their Own‘

hides safe, ye onderstandl—en. tell a man

Sut- .

is. own. stomick, he,

I that he ain’t hurt, an’ thar ain’t no anger, 1111’
I the Injuns is sweet-smellin’ angels ri ht out 0’

Heaven, bless ’eml—wby it don tstan toreason
! that—- Eh? A new move!”

The man addressed as “ Cap’n” pays no at

, tention to the grumbling of the old mountaineer,
; Judd Baker; but, with his arms folded across
{111$ breast and his brows deeply corrugated
I With lines of anxious thou ht, he stands 10 '
. strai ht before him down t e mountain gorge.

F0 owing his glance, we can see on] the
deepgreen pines, waving gfntly in the breeze—
‘ a peaceful scene enough; ut about the leader
3 are gathered anxious-brewed men, with fire-
‘ arms in their hands and a hunted watchfulnesa
I in their eyes—some wearing blood-stained band-
ages, two lying on the ground—«me of them
ominously still, rigid, ghastly, and one heroic-
‘ ally strivin to stifle the means wrung from his
1 white lips .y anguish that makes his limbs
, writhe in spite of him; and in the midst of this

little band, surrounded by horses whoso bodies
1 are intended to protect her from the bullets of
f the ruthless foe that links in yonder fairrseem-
ing coverts, is a maiden of ethereal beaut —
now pale and trembling, and with her star ed
eyes ever seeking the commanding figure of the
man whose leadership calls him to the front of
manger, though she longs to have him at her
si e ‘

Ten years have changed her much, developin
the sunny-haired child into a fair. young i171" ‘
sweet sixteen, with the first harbingers o I -
ding womanhood in face and figure; but in the
man of thirty-two, or therea outs, we easily
recoglnize the full fruition of the promise of the
yout who bore little Lilian Amberleigh in that
terrible ride before the pursuing horror 01 the
Death Canyon! '

But, on a second glance, we discover a change
which those ten years have wrou ht. »"

When first we saw him, ’his see was 
with that gloomy defiance which ever marks
the passage of a crushing disappointment era
soul-corroding wrong; now, in spite of 'the
anm'et of the moment, there is in his face and
gener carriage a grand uplifting which 
speaks a strong, hopeful life purpose. _

A word of explanation will bridge the interval
of ten years since that terrible night in Death

anyon. .
Both the Gentleman from Pike and the old
scout, Judd Baker, escaped its rils. Their
first quest in the morning was at t , mouth ',
the gorge, to see if succor might be aflorded ,
any unfortunates of the overwhelmed we is
train. But from the horrible spectacle
llzlheret awaited them they turned away, si It
ear .
The Gentleman from Pike believed that Mrs.
Amberlei 1; had fallen a prey to the wolves. ‘
As for t 9 old scout, remembering the terrible
Cries of the Demon of the Canyon, as it pa ,_
him in the darkness in its ascent of the go
after the flood, he shook his head and said ; ~-
“Waal, cap’n maybe them was sure-enough
wolves, an’ maybe t ey was only ablind. 
the Ghost 0’ the Canyon took a notion to’ chair!
up them poor critters, I reckon he could 90%!

 

enough hocus-pocus sham wolves to throw f
OR the scent. Howscmdever that’s only" {I
sayoso, an’ I’m free to allow that I don’t setup
to know everything. " 'T
The demon had passed the Gentleman from
Pike, too; and it was a mysterv on which’he
never expressed an opinion. e could not.
ghouy repress a shudder when he thought of

For ten years he had given himself to the care
of the orphan child so strangely thrown‘uppn
his rotection- and she had repaid hima thou;-
san -fold with ’her love. ‘  ,

And now let us see what caused the and,
interruption in Judd Baker’s criticism of
policy of the Indian Commissioners. .

From the shadow of the pines eme d a
duskyfi re, made rather barbarous an dun.
flow coking by the shit and feathers and,

' go of human Scalp- ocks. which made up
Ellie war-trappings of the noble American In-

ian.

In his hand be waived a ramrod, to which
was attached. a. duty rag which “smelt very
loud ” of arm blanket, considering that it we;
now presente as a fin of truce. No doubtits
former owner was lai where no war’s alarms
will ever a sin ftll‘ his dull earl 1' “ 

“ It's 01 Dick himself l” exclaimed J dd
Baker; “ an’ when he wants a talk you‘mey 
thar’s some devilment back of it.” ‘ '

“ Well, I suppose I will have to accommm
him,” said the leader, handingfifiis repea
rifle to one of his men, but reta g his blitz]:

But there came an unlocked-101‘ interrupti .

“ 0h, brother Will i” "

And all turned toward the white-Ii peel little
lady, whose heart had leaped fort in 
anxious protest. . " -:v’

“Well, Lillie?” said he. who had been taper
father-and—no, not mother; for In that Ifth on
age had wept a tender memory during an 

11 years. . -. I

f‘Don’t OI—dcn’t go!”‘she pleaded‘now,
clasped hfigds and tearful eyes. ‘9 Chi. 
should be treachery!" ‘ ‘ ‘ "I

 

/ ,,..-i

loser-box

' A tender, inward light irradiated the face of
the leader, as ho gazed u on her, who forgot all
else. in her solicitudo for im.

“ Do not fear, littlo sister,” he said. “There
is rcgilly no danger; and my duty calls me to

But, all atrcmble, she pressed her eager way
through the horses and came to him, putting her
arm about his waist.

“ Let me go with you then,” she urged. “If
you leave me, you will never come back! I

now itI—Ifcd it."

And gazing into that upturned face with its
quivering lips and tear-sw1mming eyes, this
man, from whose sore heart her gentle minis-
trations had gradually wooed all the bitterness
and distrust, smiled with a. rare sweet smile,
and~stroked her hair with a lingering fondness,
and touched his lips to her wet cheek with a
reverent tenderness that left his own eyes
humid.

There were others touched by her devotion-
rude men whose hearts were yet “ in the right

place. ’

Beneath his burr-oak exterior Judd Baker
felt quickening emotions which he would have
been, ashamed to acknowledge, though they
liver-g, in truth, evidences of his sterling man-
100 .

“Look a—hyar, cap’n,” he said, fidgeting nerv-
ously, “Pin the man to go out an’ meet that
p’izen critter. Ef they rub me out, nobody’s

he wuss fur it. But jest you stay back an'
mind this hyar lcettle wee-bud. Gosh-all-flsh-
books! of I had any woman-critter—"

 

But Judd su-ldenly left of! in hopeless confu-
sion!

The Gentleman from Pike smiled. and sail :—

“Thank you, Judd. You mean all right.
But.you must know that my little girl is as
brave as the best of you. and would he the last
one towish me to shirk my duty, when she
takes a second thought.

“ Return to your place, dear. It would take
all the manhood out of me to feel that you
were not he: ed about by all the safeguards at
our‘comman .”

Again he touched her cheek lightly, disengag-
ed her clinging hands, and waited to see her re-
turn to the scant shelter of the horses. Even i
there, there was danger of her being trampled I
upon, if the animals became unmanageable.

The girl obeyed in silence, only following :
gimmwith her fond eyes as he strode boldly
or .i
The Ute chief was a grim-looking old cut-
throat, who owed his hUIDOI‘OIIi sobriquut to a
certain dilapidated straw hat in which he had
strutted about the In'iian agency during the i
making of one of the many treaties, boasting :
insolently that he had taken it, along with the
scalpit had covered, from the head of a “ big
white chief.”

Now, with a facetiousness which he had I
caught» from contact with the reckless moun-
tain men, with whom the gravest situation is ,
not free from its jest, he said, with a guttural
chuckle:

“ Uahl. Got ’um big white chief darn tight 1”

Truth to tell, the noble red-man delivered *
hiniself of an uncompromising Western oath;
butout of deference to the amenitiesof polite .
literature, we euphemize it into that substitute
with which! Brother Jonathan has sought to
cheat the devil, while enjoying, in its essence,
the luxury of profane swearing. 1’

{‘JDid voucall me out here to tell me thatl” .
ask the Gentleman from Pike coldly. !

The savage shrnuglged his shoulders, then said, i
with a sly watchf ness in his black eyes:

“White chief do squar’ t’ing by Dick Hat- ‘
band let ’um 0, maybe! No t out nastv !
bobble, it don’t et ’um go. Knoc ’em socks 05
from white chief—take ’em scalp, white brave, [
ever son-of-a-gun! Ante up—let’um go?" I

“ - tdo ou want?” demanded the Gentle- i
manfrom P' e. _

a“ Dick Hat-band powerful big chief. Reckon 
’umwgot nice warm wi wam,” said the sav go, ,
wa ling‘tlie eflect of t is feeler. I

“Well?” asked Carleton, at a loss to divine {
whitherzit tended.

“5’11!” White chief give ‘um darn fine squaw? 1
Heap tender, llke prairie hen. Yum—yum!
Dickzflatoband ha] y old boy! Like ’um young ,
squaw pnoty 90:” V [

And the c ief laughed—a horrible laugh to ,
onerwho knew the unspeakable suflerings to
who}: white women have in hundreds of cases
been subjected upon falling into Indian captiv- ;

it .

at first the. Gentleman from Pike did not ‘
com rehend his meaning: then, as the terrible _
min) dawned upon his mind, a wave of fur '
and; thrill of agony swept through his son :
and within. save eoath he sprung forward and
raised his flstto ell the barbananfo the earth. [

Dick’s Hat-band leaped back With a startled i

erfia‘ng! went the rifle of some'hot-headed,

 

of

This narrow esca
“thinness, and o” instantly tamed his band I
l°  tron hi- followers

sava e, the, bullet puttin two holes in and out ‘ coppiceseme’d to yield its duskyvbravol

& ' white'm'an’s bucks in jerkin, just under :
them-m,- and scorching a rib In its Passag’e- ‘ . i
brought the enraged man *,

1

The Gentleman from Pike. ‘ '7

It was a “ ticklish ” situation. Neither the
Gentleman from Pike nor Dick’s Hat-band had
ever been ingreater jeopardy.

After a moment of terrible suspense, the den-
ger assed.

" ive ’um squaw, let ’um go, all right,” per-
sisted the Indian. “ No ante squaw, take um
all same—rake ’um board.” '

Controlling his anger, the other said:

“ Go back to your devils, and do your worst;
but understand, you cannot touch a hair of that
girl’s head until . you hold the scalp of every
man that can raise a hand to protect her l”

And he turned on his heel. ~

Asullen frown settled down on the bronzed
visage of the savage.

“All right! Take ’um all same! Look out!
pick fiat-baud darn bad pill when ’um got blood
in eye.

And muttering these threats, little in accord
with the Eoetical utterances that Cooper has
given us, t is modern king cf the forest stalked
d ck with angry stride to his skulking myrmi-

ons.

The Gentleman from Pike did not explain
the nature of the abortive negotiation. Her
ears awaited the horrible tale as eagerly as any-
body’s. He only said:

“ t’s fight to the death! And men, in God’s
name! never give up while you have a drop of
blood in your veins!’

The saw the suppressed agony that wrung
great ends of sweat from his browand gave

hat wild a pool to his eyes; and, though it was
unintelligih e to her—ah! would she not have
swooned with horror, had she been able to read
those signs arightl—to those who were versed
in Indian character came a slow consciousness,
until they set their teeth and turned their blaz-
ing eyes one upon another, and then and there,
mute , they swore never to abandon her while
life lasted! ,

An ominous quiet reigned on thepart of the
savages.

As for the whites, hemmed in in that, mountain
pocket, they could hope for nothing until the
coming of nightfall. V

But the danger came long before the dark-
ness.

There was a rattle of firearms from overhead
and the patter of bullets, many of which found
their mark, as crie from men and horses told;

“They have gained the hights!” cried the
leader. “ We can stay here no Ion er. They
could pick ofl every man of us in ha f an hour.
We have but' one chance. We must ride
through yonder ambush! Mount, men! Afew
of us may escaoel Rememberl—as long as
tgelriel’is one man left, he must protect this poor
c It ,

B ‘LWe swear to do that, cap’n!” shouted Judd

9. er.

And from lip to lip ran the pledge:

“ We swear I” ‘

“Judd!” cried the Gentleman from Pike,
wringing his hand with an agony that was be;
yond words, “it is my place to lead! Take her
and kee her in the center! Do not leave her
side, I c arge you l” y A

“ Cap’n, you kin tie to ole Judd Baker, every

time!” was the assurance of the honest moun- -

tainman. .

Then all leaped into the saddle, With Lilian
Amberleigh in the middle.

There was no time for leave-taking, when
every moment of delay cost a life.

Awed by the giant emotions that swept away
these strong men, the girl obeyed ever injunc-
tion without demur, nor did she seek o divert
from his higher duties, to herself, the attention
of the man toward whom her heart went out
now as never before.

“ CHARGE!" thundered the leader.

In a compact body they swept down into that
ball of carnage! .

CHAPTER VIII.
RUNNING THE onNrm.

DOWN into that vale of withering death swept
the devoted band!

Guiding his horse by his knees, the bridle-
rein hanging loose, the commander led thé van,
with a cocked revolver in either hand.

Not a foe was-in sight, but well they knew
thatxdeath lurked behind every bowlder, every

me ‘ *
F It came! _

A hundred Vivid flashes l—a hundred puffs of
white, sulphurous smoke l—a hundred sharp re-
ports that filled the crags with rattling echoes l—

 

! a hail of whistlin bulletsl—the agonized cries of

wounded men an horses l—the rearing, plung~‘
ing steed; the rider to pling from his sadnlelev'n'
chorus of blood-curd] ngyells, as if the demon
hordes of Tartar-us had burst its iron bound!—

than hell unveiled its horrors, and the fiends of

destruction held high carnival! -

Like the fabled warriors that sprungermed
cap (1- ie from the earth at the stem
mailed? heel of their leader, every ' every

Not, as of old. With flyin missiles—themows

and tomabawkslof their fa hers—did these ‘mod’j
, ern lords of the forest fill v the, air: but in their
bandewm trusty rifles, with which this strange- '

1y magnesium” comment arms its fast for

of' tho’

 

the slaughterof its citizens, and revolvers which
they used with a deadly skill not inferior to that
of many of the whites. \

But many a plumed and painted savage went
down before the concentrated fire of Lilian Am-
berleigh’s sworn defenders, the yell of defiance

' ending in the death-rattle; and more than one

(1me warrior was beaten to the earth by the
iron acts of those madly charging steeds!

On either hand the revolvers of the Gentle-
man from Pike flashed incessant! , until the
hammers descended upon caps that ad already
set in train the doom of some yelling demon.

Then Lilian Amberleigh, whose eyes had
never for an inslant wandened from her brave
champion, saw him away in his saddle and put
his! hand to his breast.

A cry of anguish and terror leaped from her
blanched lir.

“ 0h, Wi I! Will! He is struck! In Heaven’s
name, save him 1”

She dug her tiny spur into her horse’s flank;
and with great bounds he forced his way
through his fellows that hedged him about, and
bore his rider to the side of the man who braved
all for her sake and for whom she would as
readily have laid down her life.

Hard hit, the commander clutched at his sad-
dle-horn that he might not fall beneath the
hoofs of his own followers’ steeds, to await the
scalping knife of the ruthless ied butcher!

But a deadly vertigo paralyzed his brain; the
world- nn round: the air became sudden]
filled wi hflakes of ehon blackness; the Echo s
of carnage seemed m1.ffied and receding in the
distance: all conscious things were slipping
from his grasp.

Was this death?

Even then his thought was of her.

Was she safe?

“ Oh God! will Judd Baker fail of his tmstl”

As if conjured b the mighty travail of his
soul, the woman, aside whom all the world
else sunk into insigniflcance. suddenly appeared
at his side a cry of unspeakable anguish on her
lips; her distended eyes glassy with horror and
dread unutterable: her frail arms about his
tottering form!

Dimly be rceived her. I

“Thank d! she is safe yet! Heaven pro-
tect her to the end!" was the aspiration of his
son .

But Juddl—where was he? Had he fallen?
Was she left entirely alonel

“ Go! Leave me !" murmured the Gentleman
from Pike, the words falling heavy from his re-
luctant tongue.

He feltber clasp him more closely; than he
seemed total! from the frail support of her
faithful bosom, and all consciousness left him.

But the brave man was not to be left to the
mutilation of the savage seal in knife.

Staunch Judd Baker h to owed Lilian
urging his horse to Garleton's other side; and
now his stout arm encircled the toppling form
of the wounded leader, plucking it from the
embrace-Maths gm who otherwise would have
been borne from her saddle by its too at
weight—but never, ob, never would she ave
abandoned it! 1

“0h Judd! Judd!” screamed the aflrighted
girl. ‘Beel he is d ing! He! 1 help! 01:!
cannot something be one? See ow ghastly he
is! Oh, Judd! 0h, Heaven! Fat er! His
9 osare closing! Heisdeadi' e'is dead! Ohl

hi 0b!”

She was wild with ef. She lost sight of
eve dan erto horse] . In that mad dash sh.
mi t be e from her horse’s back by the
lim of some tree. She heeded nothing. She
looked only at the man in whose lose all the
world seemed blotted out.

No words could console such despair. Ber

safety was the one thing to be struggled for

now.

“At'em, boys! Waste no shots! Give ’em
Hail Columbia!” yelled sturdy Judd Baker, the
blood already streaming over his face from I‘
wound in the bond. “Push ahead, fellcrs, an’

‘ve us the center! I’ll look out for the cap‘n.

hard! guard, tharl That devil’s reachin fer-
Miss Lilian i”
In that wild Melee the fa ht like Titans; but

thev were outnumber-e ten 0 one._

hen the savage bullet found its mark and
the client rider reeled in his saddle, they had
not eir leader’s 9d fortune—no Judd Baker
was at hand to so am them.

80 their ranks were thinned until there were
not'enon b left to surround Lilian as they had
done at is contact. Thus she was left exposed
to save nnault. ‘

But t e Indians had received their ordersfrom
theirchief—tbc white squaw was to be captured
alive and unharmed, and reserved to grace the

am of the mat Dick‘s Hat-band. .

nd now Judd Baker’s warnin ‘ cry was
elicited me'sudden'appearance o 'the chief
himself tly in the path of the little band:
that was so desperately fighting» its way to life

and liberty;
the dusky inmerato had his

Kore than th
hand (in Lilian’s e-rein, andde his re?
orriblo

pgbiugghfiuge was (glow with a
mum, «Msvmmmfl'

l

 

8 The Gentleman from Pike.

NA

 

L._._m.._.-

 

civilization never knows with savage foemeu
leaping up on every ban , seeming to multipi
the deeper their ranks were penetrated—doe -
cued by the rattle of firearms and the blood-
curdling yells voiced by those painted barbari-
nns, blinded and stifled by the incessant flashes
and the white smoke, and sickened b the sight
of blood-—Lilian recognized her awf peril.

Then, incumbered as he was by the dead
Weight of the now unconscious commander,
Judd Baker freed one hand, and fired. .

Dick’s Hat-band went dowui like a. forest tree
before the lightning’s stroke!

But the fall of the chief did not make a
victory. The little band was surrounded, their
charge checked, their ranks thrown into con—
fusioni The rider was shot from his horse—the
horse sunk dying beneath his rider! 0n foot or
in the saddle, a score of wea us were opposed
to every breast! They who ad fou ht so well
were overwhelmed by numbers, an still their
foes multiplied about them. Another moment
would brin annihilation!

Stunned y a blow on the head which nearly
toppled him from his horse, Judd Baker, the
bravest scout in the mountains, abandoned all
hope! After his adventurous life, he now stood
in the presence of death unabashed, and regret-
1 i ng only the girl whom his arm was now power-
less to save.

But, man failing, Heaven interposed!

Through that glade of death now rung a
cry so terrible that it stayed the madly bound-
iufiblood in every heart.

imly Judd Baker heard it, and, half-con-
sciousl as he was. shuddered through every
nerve

Then came the dismayed {veils of the savages,
and the sudden cessation o strife. Before the
awful Ghost of the Can on all lesser interests
were merged in the blin instinct of self-preser-
vation.

But that cry had fired anew Judd Baker’s
s’nking consciousness. He dug his spurs into
his horse’s flanks, and was borne forward with
great bounds. .

As for Lilian Amberleigh. her greatlove had
conquered even that terrible cry at which the
hearts of all men qiiailed. 0f herself, of her
surroundings, she thought nothing. Her horri-
fied eyes were immovably fixed on her guar-
dian; and so was she spared the sight of the sw-
fuJ monster.

From her ll ever came the c x

“ Is he den 1 oh! is he dead?

And so a scant half-dozen—not a quarter of
those that had started l—burst through that cor-
don of death, and swept down the mountain

puss.
But the Gentleman from Pike—was be dead?

CHAPTER IX.
“BLED anx’s ” HARD LUCK.

“ i TILL ye what it is gents— t’l mighty
s.im pickin’s considerin’ t e resk!” _

gar?” Luc Camp was “ blue "— Mighty
|5 

At ten o’clock in the morning‘ the miners
were lounging before the No-tic Saloon, can-
vassing the unpromising outlook.

One was leaning against the door- t, with
his feet crossed and his hands thrust esp in his
pockets. Another was perched on the horse-

roggh, hacking idl with his bowie-knife. A
thi wasbalancing imself on thehitchingbar.
A fourth, with his hands clasped at the back of
his head, la at length on a board which was
ggen a slig it incline by one and resting on a
s no.

So we might continue to enumerate the list-
less, almost'despoudent, attitudes of the men.

Judge Wiggins alone boosted the dignity of a
sort of chair impronsed from an old lemon-box,
the partition in the middle of which served as a

seat.

After a somewhat protracted deliberation,
during which he scraped the spatters of clay
from his pantaloons with his finiear-nail the
udg? straightened up, tipped his t a little
urt er back on his head, and said, decidedl :

“Gents, thar’s no two ways about it.

Luck’s played. It’s it, or bu’st!”

A gloomy silence ollowed this dictum, while
the judge ran his eye anxxously, vely,
from one clouded face to another.

“I reckon it’s bu’sted, anyway," one finally
reused himself sumciently to say.

“ I’m down to bed rock,” announced Moxy,

ving the horse-trough a vicious job with his

Wie.

“ Divil a glint 0’ gold have I Posted me two
eyes on this two wakes,” said Tom O’Connor,
from where he lay on his broad back. “ I’m bo-
ginnin’ to hunt the praties in the t wid a foin-
tooth comb. DiVil fly away wi me, av it’s a
loi I’m tellin’ yez!”

“ Waal, what d’ye sayr’asked the judge, put-
tin tgeflquestigiai, as ittwere, to the bonsai;

o e nite s temen was necessary, v .

body understood the issue only too well. W

No one, it seemed, liked to assume the -
sibility of what all felt must come. m
bearded lips were com ressed and—mute.

“Gentlemen,” said t. e juggle, as if summing
n the situation, “in the sh

 

_ ’s a Stiff with no ha’i' on its; head and nigh

 

back 0’ the house .

ontoa pound 0’ cold lead—fourteen ounces, to
speak by the mark—in its carcage, takin’ no ac-
count 0 some mighty ugly carvin’.”

“ I brung it in,” sai Wind River Johnny,
takin the word as if it were meet that each
shoul testify what came within his immediate
knowledge. “ I reckon ever bod knowed him
—Shif’less 80!. No great she as o a handle, but
good enough on a pinch, I reckon. A restless
sort ofacuss, all the time rammin’ around. hither
an’ yon, allowin’ he’d dro onto somethin‘ big
some’rs one 0’ these days; ut a white man, fur
all that. Waal, I run acrost him up on the di-
vide. Fourteen bulletholes an’ pinned to the
ground with his pick drove through his bread-

asket ain’t bad, for one man!

“ ‘ Waal,’ says I to myself, ‘ the boys has 0-
pooed this thing. I reckon it ’11 do ’em g to
see a specimen. P’r’a s they’ll allow, byme-by,
that the Injins means usiness.’

“ So I cks the thing into camp. Thar it is,
gents. ou kin look it over fur ourselves. It
ain’t every day that you see dayli ht let into a
man with fourteen sin and a pic 1”

Having presented w at he deemed an unan-
swerable argument, Windy “ subsided.”

Judge Wi gins resumed the case.

“ You’ve yeard the evidence, gentlemen.
We have the romise of hard knocks, sure, an’
a doggone s im show fur pay-dirt. Ef we’re
boxed up hyere, thar’ll be some tall scramblin’
fur rations with some of us— rhaps all. Thar’s
no use bein’ mealy-mouth about it. We’ve
got to face the music. Thar hain’t no more
crawflsh in me than in the next one; but—”

And here the judge stopped, and looked about
questionineg on his auditors.

There was an awkward pause.

“ Waal, what’s the word ’repeated the judge,

I -.

Thigh big Mose Finley jumped down from the
hitching-bar, shook himself together, and said:

“ Gents, it mought as well come fust as last.
It’s up stakes, a'n’ git I”

A Slg‘h of relief ran through the crowd. The
dead lethargy seemed to lighten.

“ Air on all agreed?” asked Justice Wiggins,
as if ad ressing a. jury.

“ Bossz I foller suit!

“ I’m in, you bet!”
“ I never back on the majority l”
" It’s the t I’ve got!”

And with like expressions all intimated their
concurrence.

One man had stood in the door of the No-tic
Saloon. awaiting the result of the deliberation
with no slight interest. He now . spoke for the
first time.

“ Bo s, you ain’t goigg to shake me?”

“No much Bob. ou’re a s uar’ man, at

on air a Sutier; an’ that’s sayin a good deal,

t yer life! You’re solid in t is camp!”

0 hers seconded this hearty assurance; and
Bob smiled with gratification.

“Come in an’ Fit a starter, gents.” he said,
throwing wide h s door; “an while you’re
knockin your shanties to pieces, I’ll git ea
squar’ meal all hands round. Then we’ll oad
the No-tic on her trucks. an’ be ready to pull
out on a full stomick.”

Butler Bob knew the kind of eloquence that
would strike Hard Luck Cam “ whar it lived.”
With a cheer, which showed 1: at the spirits of
the Cain were in the ascend‘ant the [moment it
“ smelt iquor," the “ho s ” ranged themselves
along the bar, where ob “set ’em up hand-
some!”

Then all went out to “ pull u stakes. ”

The migrations of Western s anty towns are
without parallel. What in the mornin glories
in the name of a city may ere night piled
upon wagons and wheeled to another site.

So,as if by ma ‘c, save for the clatter of
hammers, Hard Lu‘c Cam fell to ieces like a
lot of card houses; and by e mid e of the af-
ternoon the “boys ” bad “ t outside ” of Sut-
ler Bob’s “ uar meal” an put the first ham-
mer to the o-tic.

ing WWW-m unfitimighn'th rid 1

u go iggins,a y as e e ge-poe
in his shirt-sleeves, cried: .

“ The Lord bless us and save us! what’s this?”

And into Hard Luck Camp—what was left
of it—rode a handful of blood—stained and bleed-
ing men, and a girl whose fair face was blanch-
ed with unspeakable woe!

“ Hallo strangers! What’s up?” demanded
big Mose hiniey.

(Bear a hand gents. Work first, an’ talk
afterwards!” said Judd Baker, slipping from
his jaded horse, and still holding the uncon-
scious Carleton in his arms.

“A dead man?” asked Judge Wiggins who.
havmg descended from his elevated perch “on
the run.” now elbowed his way to the front. I

“Oh. no! no!” cried Lilian Amberleigh, d18-
araiétgily. “He is not dead!"--he cannot be

as

Her musical voice, veined as it was with keen
distress drew ever eye upon her, and her ex-
quisite beauty th ed every one of those rude
hearts with a sudden heroism. A moment ago
they would have met danger and death with
the energy of despair; now they were ready to

ht like gods in defense of thishelpless woman.

the unconscious manned been to them “ a

 

stiffz” now, knowing that the blow that stitch '

him had pierced her heart, they glowed with a
fierce thirst for revenge.

While they bore the Gentleman from Pike to
the room late] tenanted by the ’Frisco Sharp.
and installed ilian as nurse, Judd Baker relatr
ed in brief the danger through which the had
passed, and which yet threatened the In -
camp.

The story of the ogportune coming of the
Ghost of the Canyon led every one with m-
perstitious dread. and speculation concerning it
ran riot.

As for the danger from an Indian attack,
Hard Luck had been “ ketched with her true.
down ;” but in a twinkling she was under arms
and assembled in fighting trim. Though the
apprehension of danger was great, it was fairly
rivaled by curiosity about William Carleton
and his fair nurse.
had nothing to say, but of the former he said:

“Ireckon some 0’ on has heard 0’ the Gen~
tleman from Pike. p North they allow that
he’s the biggest fightin’ man in the count . No
blah-mouth, ye understand' but a gent t at a
rigiment o grizzlies coul n’t crowd. W
boys, he’s all 0. K. He’s got a hard knock;
he ll weather it in a week.

“ An’ now the first thing in order is a scout.
I see that you was all ready to shake this lacs;
but I’ll bet you two to one that ye don’t 3 1: out
0’ this valley fur thirty days."

Judd Baker’s sug estion was acted upon and
the scouts returne with the report that tho
mountain ass swarmed with savages.

Luck would) have to at herself “in shape " for
a siege of indefinite uration.

But during their absence a new complication
had arisen. The sky had become overcast with
a dull gray cloud.

“ Gents,” said Judd Baker, “I’ve seen this
sort 0’ thing before. Ef you take m advice,
you’ll fall to, all hands, and put 11 t em shan-
ties, as quick as hammer an’ nails’l do the job!”

Even as he spoke reat feathery flakes of snow
began to fall silent y down thro h the still
air; and the “ boys,’ who hadn’t lived in the
mountains for nothing, set to work with an
equal energy, if not with the same hearty good-
w1ll, to put up in the evening, the shantiel they
had knocked to pieces in the morning.

The work was hastily, and therefore s! htl
done; but when the scouts came wadin 1:
through the snow in the early nightfa , they
found that their homes had sprung up again, as

me o.
Ncyiexp nation was necessary. All knew that
it might snow for a day, or a week, or even
longer, without cessation. and that the panel”
the outer world might be blocked b twenty.
zhifty, forty, fifty feet of those fea cry par-
ic es.

And true to this pox-tent. the time came when
Hard Truck found itself shut in from all the
world, and communication between the shantiss
maintained only b digging through constantly
deepening banks 0 snow.

But an event of fateful moment occun'od be-
fore they had been buried thus deeply.

0n the fourth day of the falling snow, as the
shadows of ni ht were a preaching. an object
was disoovere moving owly, laboriously to-
ward the camp. It was so. covered with snow
that it could not be made out; but it looked like
an animal of some sort.

“ A bear’s cub, most likely,” suggested lazy
to his wondering companions.

“Not much!” asserted big Mose Finle , poo,
itively. “ Anyway, here goes fur a she over
its head; and we’ll see how it takes the joke.”

And without waiting for more prudent coun-
sels—for it ill-behooved men situated as they
were to run the risk of scaring away anything
that gave promise of food—he fired. .

The object stoppjed, squatted on its hauncbu,
raised its fore-lim s, and uttered a faint .

“Good God! a man!” cried the unfit-d
marksman.

It was indeed a man, cree ing on hands and
knees where it would have en impossible for
him to walk erect, and‘thus making his way
slowly toward deliverance from an awful peril.

Ha renewed his eflorts; but with the knowl-
edge that he! was_ near the hi h tension 8
which he had eld himself relaxe and he
forward exhausted. ;

But human eyes had beheld his strait. and
human hearts beat with quick sympathy. Bi.
Mose Finley s rung to the rescue, crying: :

“Come on, oys!”

And his strong limbs broke the path for the
rest to follow in. '=

. They _reached the fallen man. Mose Finley
lifted him up, gazed into his face, and—d .
him l—moi'e than that, with a round oath ‘

“ Boys. it’s the Frisco Sharp!" -

CHAPTER X.
rim ou'rcss'r’s 1mm.
“BOYS, it’s the Frisco Sharp!”
Such was the announcement of big Mo. 1]..

 

le , as with an oath he dropped the helple-man ,

W cm he had 'ust raised.

A moment lips were compressed, iii-brows
indented. with cruel hatred. Then, without l,
word further, be turnedand retraccd his m

Of the latter Judd Balsbr .

 

VT.

 

W".

t

 

 

 

over the we. ho had come a moment before on
an errand c humanity.

The “boys” hesitated, glanced at one anoth-
er, and silently. sullenly followed the steps of
their leader, leaving the Frisco Sharp where he
had fallen in the snow!

“ by, what is the matter? Wasn’t it a
man?”

All started at the sweet voice, the questioning
eyes, that greeted their retui n.

Mose Finley said not a word, but set his teeth
in dogged ferocity.

The rest of the “ boys” fidgeted uneasily.
Tom O’Connor replied:

" Well, yis, me. am; thrue fur you, it was in-
dade a mahn.” .

“ Well,” cried the girl With widening 9 es,
“and have you left him out there to peris in
the snow?”

“Well, yez see, ma’am,” said Tom, “it’s the
Frisco Sharp, jist.”

“ The Frisco Sharp?"

“ No other, faith. It's only the day before ye
come among us wid yer bright smiles, d’yo
moind, that the b’ys run the biaggaird out of

camg.”

“ ut I do not understand you!” cried Lilian,
more and more bewildered. Then, turning to
Judge Wiggins with clasped hands and trema-
lous ips:

“Oh, sir! what is the meaning of this? You
can not wantoni'y leave a fellow-creature to die
within reach of your hand—before your very
eyes!

The judge, who had not been of the rescuing
part , but had made no effort to o pose_that
cruefabandonment, now felt ashame of his in-
activity.

” Bo 5,” he said, in some confusion, “perhaps
you’d tter bring him in.”

“Perha 8!” re ated the girl, her cheeks, but
now as pa 0 as a ily, glowin with sudden in-
dignation. “ Is it a debatab e question? If you
would not be guilty of deliberate murder, I
char c you to go to his relief and at once!”

“ har’s the use 0’ h‘i‘stin’ him out o’ wliar he
ain’t doin’ uothin’ to nobody, an’ uttin’ our-
selves to the trouble 0’ stringin’ of im up the
minute we 't him into camp?” argued big Mose
Finley, wit more logic than humanity. “ Bet
ahoss, I don’t eat my own words! We told him
to git, an’ he’s at to stay git; or the minute he
crosses the jail imits he’s got swing!”

Lilian gazed from one to the other, unable to
com rehend this vindictive malice.

“ e see, Miss Lilian,” explained Moxy “this

’ hyar gent is a card sharp, an’ a doggoned lucky
one, to draw it mild. But the ho s didn’t take
much stock in the luck, but setit own tosli‘ ht.
So they fired him out, with a warnin’ thate he
was ketched round hyar agin’, he’d stretch
hemp. Now leave him out yonder, an’ he’ll
in his checks eas ; an’ nobod ’11 have to d y
their hands wit the job. ut fetch him in
hyar an’ he’ll swing, as sure as shootin’l”

“ db, monstrous l’ cried the girl. “ Cannot

yaouseethat the man has not returned volun-
rily‘l He is driven to your door to escape

certain death in this awful tem t. Give him

a chance for his life and no oubt when the

storm is past he will gladly go away and trouble

you no more.

Whatever she might have said further. a new
element entered the Situation in the appearance
of the Gentleman from Pike, accompanied by
faithful Judd Baker.

“Nonsense, Judd,” he was say .
take me for a babyl I’m worth
dead men yet!"

And indeed though yet pale, he had convap
lesced beyond the most sanguine hopes of those
whose love for him made them jealous of every
moment of suflering.

“Willi Willi—what imprudencel” cried Lil-

“Do you
alf a dozen

' n toward him.
Mlsgfl fittle surprise, gems," he smiled,
fondly. “ See! I have only n playing 0! to

prolong the pleasure of having so sweet a
nurse.

And he walked scrum the room and back
with a firm tread. r
. “But don’t waste an more time on so un~
worth an ob eat as l. ere’s the poor devil
that add tel 5 me the boys went to rescuel"

“ 0h Will!” cried the girl, “they have aban-
don him!”

Then followed an explanation in which words
of burning indignation mingled with tearful

illiam Carleton was as much 3th u
was his ward.
‘ “Men, this can’t be!” he exclaimed; but sul-
len looks assured him that it was indeed true.

“ Can you be men?” he cried, his pals cheeks
suddenly lowing and his eyes flashing.

Then wfih a so den resolve:
. “Juddul can rely on you.
them a lesson in humanity!” .

“ Pardner, I’m with you, every time!" cried
honest Judd Baker. _

“ Gentlemen ”—turning again to the crowd—
“mpeal'to such of you as have a spark of
m ood left to give his dying fellow-man_a
chancenamong us until he can go away in

nfet .
“Oyh, far-go your resentment!” seconded Lil-

We can teach

ion, a peeling to them with clasped hands and
tearf , pleading eyes.

“ Be the powers 0’ mud i" cried Tom O’Connor,
with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. “ Niver be
it said of an O’Connor that he withstud the en-
tr’aties of innocence an’ beauty! Command
me? Divil fly awe. wid me, sowl an’ body,
but I’ll folly ez to t 9 ends 0’ the earth! Whist,
b’ys! Will t e loikes av yez stand out ag’in’ a
woman? Truth! they’re not so plenty in this
country that they’re not to have t eir way.”

But even gallantr was a vain appeal to the
men of Hard Luc . Their unshaken hatred
showed in their sullen, dog ed frowns.

The clear, stern eye, the ecisive ring in the
voice of the Gentleman from Pike, his prompt
assured action, had their effect. The men stood
inactive, waiting for their leader. He—big
Mose Finley—on glowered, as yet.

A moment Car etou’s eye ran over the sullen
group. Then, disdainin further appeal, he
turned on his heel and le t the saloon.

Out over the snow he stalked, followed by
Judd Baker, Tom O’Connor and the half-dozen
who had shared his escape from the savages,
until they came to that still form on which the
pure white flakes of snow were falling one by
one.

The Gentleman from Pike and Judd Baker
bent over and took hold of the unconscious man
at the same time taming his face to view. Then
the former uttered a sharp, gasping cry.

“ STAY!”

And with his arm, into which the strength of
a giant seemed sudden] infused, he swept Judd
Baker aside, and himse f shrunk back.

The pallor of death was on his passion-distort-
ed face, the glare of a fury in his eyes, as for a
moment he stood with clenched hands and set
teeth, panting and muttering :—

od!

Judd Baker and the others regarded him with
mouth a ape.

" Wha in Cain, cap’u—l” began Judd.

But the man so terribly movud made a super-
human eifort at self-mastery, brushing his hand
across his brow on which great beads of icy
sweat had started.

“ Take him up and bring him to the house,”
he said, in a voice so hoarse that it was unrecog-
nizable.

Immediately he turned back over the th
they had come, walking as if that terrible t roe
of emotion had exhausted him.

Wondering, the men lifted their burden and
followed him, not hearing his muttered words :—

“ He is helpless. I would not crush a worm
that appealed to me like that. And they shall
not harm him. We will all take the same les-
son in humanity. But afterwardsl—when he is
himself again l—”

He did not conclude. His frame quivered
with the restraint he ut upon himself.

Onceinthe saloon, eturned his back when
the Frisco sharp began to show signs of return-
in animation under the ministration of Judd

er.

A “still horn” set the gambler on his legs
again, tho h he looked emaciated and cadav-
erous enoug , as he huddled near the fire, draw-
ing closer about him an Indian blanket ill in
keeping with the rest of his dainty attire.

‘ Gentlemen,” he said looking round u n
his frowning auditors with his wanted none I:-
lance, “since my do from your hospita-
blecam , my th as not been strewed with
roses. fflrst all into an Indian smbuscade.
Then came the storm, which caughi the savages
themselves in a pretty tra . At the end of two
days I think they were de ting the question of
roasting me for food, when, with my flask of
brand dru ged with laudanum which I am in
the habit of coping to pacify a umping tooth

in toput my two gas 3 to sleep, and
so eflec m escape. Since then, I have spent
most of my acres in on hands and knees
through the snow, wi h wretched blanket
my only rotection from the cold. I thought
that my ptiable condition might serve as an
excuse for iiétmdin’g my presence again upon

uc amp.

“ Wan! ” said big Mose Finley, “ you knowcd
what you (1 find hyar. Boys, I reckon this is as
good a time as an I"

And he uncoil a rope from his waist.

“Sto i” cried this Gentleman from Pike, and

hetween t e would-he hangman and his
inton ed victim. '

CHAPTER Xi.
mhmknmomth A

Wrrn a woman quic sympa y, Lilian m-
berleigh had hastened forward to meet the
rescuin party. as they returned bearing the
body 0 the unconscious outcast.

But her guardian had clutched her wrist, ro-
straining her rudely.

“ Do not touch Mm !” he had said, in a hush,
rsspin voice that she had never heard before.

‘ W !!”hisliei had rotested and questioned.

' at m 11 won or.

gagmfiey without question!” he had command-
ed frowning at her lvher whom he had never
before touched or ad save in tender-nos.

 

And mute, abashed. the girl had shrunk awa ,
and followed him into thehouse,eaho pods

.thel

 

The Gentleman from Pike. 0

past her, her ii is uivering, her eyes diin with
tears, her gen e eart swelling with the first
wound he had ever inflicted.

She saw him walk t0'the window and stand
with folded arms, gazin out into the falling
snow, paying no further cod to the man whom
he had just now championed, nor to the won-
dering are of the miners who were not a little
puzzled y this >udden change of feeling.

Wonder checked the falling tears of the girl,
as she saw the strong frame of the man who she
now knew had not wantonly wounded her
shaken by a terrible battle of repressed emo-
tion—so fleico that, as he struggled with
clenched hands and set teeth, face pale and
rigid, and eyes whose slumbi'ous flre even his
strong will could not quench all at once, great
beads of lo sweat oozed from his forehead.

Whai di it all mean? Was this man not a
stranger? Was be connected with some terri-
ble wrong or suffering whose lengthened sha-
dow reaching out from the dead past had
clouded her guardian’s life ever since Lilian’s
recollection? Had fate brought these two to-
gether that this good might be returned for
evil—the wronger to be succored by the
wrongedl

Silently the girl drew to the side of the man
and rested her cheek against his arm in word-
less sympathy. '

Then came big Mose Finley’s menace and the
man so strangely moved 3 )i'ung om-e more to
the rescue of one whom he 1had. perhaps, better
cause to hate.

The Gentleman from Pike drew no weapon,
as he faced thst frowning mob: but there was
that in his eye which told that he would pro
tect with his life the shivoring wretch whom he
had saved from the storm.

The bad element of Hard Luck was bent on
havin the life of the Frisco sharp. The less
brute rtion of the little community, under
ership of Judge Wig ins, remained in-
active when they might w th a word have
turned the scale in favor of humanity.

It is doubtful what might been the issue had
not Lilian Amberleigh sprung forward and
clasged Judge Wiggins’s arm, crying:—

“ h sir! you are a man! you cannot stand
coldly by and permit this monstrous ini uit !
Give him but a shelter among us unti t 9
storm is past. Surely you can spare one of
your cabins, if on are unwilling to let him
stay here in the otel.”

' There’sm shanty. Faith, there‘s no roof‘
in’ on it; but e can dig it out an’ make shift
to abide thur,” suggested Tom O‘Connor.

“That is all we ask,” said the Gentleman
from_Pike, who perceived the wisdom of tem-

Poms.

“Let up, boys," said Judge Wiggins, not
ve gammy. “The ofl’er’s fair enough.
Ef a pa to himself, I reckon we kin stand
i340: the few days this blockade is likely to

“Gents, air we oin’ fur to be backed down
in this hyar fash on?” cried big Mose Finley,
not to be cheated out of his revenge without a
last strug lo.

“I thin you are,” said the Gentleman from
Pike coolly, answering for the “he 's,” who he
saw were falling away from their loodthirst
leader. “If you are not satisfied, you and
can step just outside the door, and settle it be—
tween us.”

There was a determined light in his clear
gray eye which cowed the bully.

It took one moment. eye to eye, for big Mose
Finley to recognize his master. Then, with a.
murderous scowl of hatred and a muttered

oath he turned.

“in right, nts. m the hull crowd takes
wafer remem rit wa’n’t none 0’ my funeral.
Hard Luck is a blasted mean place for a white
man to live in. It hain’t no pay-dirt, an’ no
sandl’

Taking no heed of Mr. Finley’s expressions of
disgust, the Gentleman from Pike said, brisk] :

‘ Come! The sooner we set to work, t e
sooner we'll have this gentleman under un-
grudéed shelter. Who joins the above! brigade?”

“ umh. boys! No shirking!” cried Judd
Baker; and his brisk example was followed by
all that little band that had followed Carleton
from the death-trap: but of the original denizens
of Hard Luck only Tom O’Connor responded.

From the moment that the Gentleman from
Pike ste forward so that the Frisco Sharp
could direJ inguish him from the crowd, the latter
stared at him in stupefled bewilderment.

The other paid no heed, but went out with
the shovelers. seemingly unconscious of weak-
ness from his recent wound.

They who had volunteered were few, but
worked with a right good will; and soon a th
was dug to Tom O’Connor’s shan , the we of
which had been erected, though i was roofleu,
“$112313?” mag snow. h be

9 WM closed wit a mporary
roof. the shovelersgcleared out the snow, dis~
closing a hole—“ whe-ur,” mid Tom O’Connor,
ruefu y, “ I’ve gged an’ d, wid divil o
cint comin’ out yant me pra es an’ potheenl
So says I to the b?‘Don’t waste yer toime
rooflnv that shanty.’ aith, I’ll not drop precious
sweat in'thathole any more."

L9

The Gentleman from Pike.

 

 

And in this cheerless domicile was housed the
dainty Jules St. Auburn!

As he crouched shivering near the fire and
watched Lilian Amberlei h flit about, making
the desolate room a little omelike in her deft,
woman’s way, his lip quivered and into his
cold, cynical eyes came a look of softened ten-
derness.

When she left him for the night, he rose,
walked feebl with her to the door, and, bend-
ing over her and, touched it with his lips, and
let fall upon it a tear. He had no words for his
gratitude.

Entering the room at that moment, the Gen-
tleman from Pike saw the act.

With a muffled, inarticulate cry, like the snarl
of an enraged animal, he leaped forward and
snatched Li ian’s hand away.

Then these two men, both weak and pale with
suffering, faced each other in a voiceless battle
of the eye, while the girl shrunk abashed, and
gazed from one to the other, unable to under-
stand this anta onism too deep for words.

lVilliam Car eton ever so cool now choked
with pamion, while his eyes blamed with a hate
that would have annihilated.

Jules St. Auburn betrayed neither fear nor
an er. His eyes, his attitude, seemed to say:

‘ Strikel—you have the power and the cause!”

But Carleton turned without a word, and
drew the bewildered Lilian away.

The next morning the Frisco Sh was found
raving in delirium. Then Hard an was seized
with a panic which turned men, not overly
humane at best. into veritable demons.

“It’s all along of that Injun blanket,” said

big Mose Finley. “Gents. we’re snowed in
hyar, an’ that cuss has brought small-pow into
camp!”

At that announcement the miners turned pale
with dread.

“Thar’s no runnin’ away from it,” pursued
Mose. “We’ve got to grin an’ b’ar it now.
But you. know an’ I know that it’ll be fool’s
luck, of one in ten of us gits out 0’ this hole
alive. Ef I’d had my way, that galoot ’ud ’a’
been out onder, covered up by the snow, a-
doin’ no urt to nobody; but thanks to the
humanity of some an’ the do gone fool craw-
flshin’ of others, I was put own. An’ now
gents, that you’ve got more’n you bargained
or what air ye goin’ to do about it?”

Me was answered only by dark frowns. Al-
ready the sovereigns of Hard Luck regretted
what they now considered their weakness of
the day previous.

“ Don’t be too sure that it is a case of small-
pox,” said the Gentleman from Pike, making an,

effort to stem the tide of popular discontent. .

“I will go and examine the sick man; and if
it provessobad as ou fear I will undertake
the care of him wit out oallin
else to expose himself to confifon.

“That's all very fine fur k,” growled big
Mose Finley; “ but I reckon small-pox can’t be
barred out so easy. We was‘ d oned fools
fur lettin‘ it into camp, in the first p ace. ”

“ That’s so!" came a muttered assent.

“ Boss, you’re shoutin’i”

“We’d oughter simng him up before we let
him leave this burg!”

There was no use arguing with such men.
The Gentleman from Pike turned to leave the
room, to find Lilian Amberleigh at his side,
ready to accompany him.

“Lilly!” he exclaimed.

“I Will go with you,” she said, quietly.

“No. no. my dear. If there is danger, you
must not expose yourself.”

Then the face of the girl lowed with a
ly beautiful devotion, and or eyes too
humid eloquence.

“Do you think that I would shrink from a
peril into which you walk?" she asked. g zing
upon him with a look that thrilled him stran
1y. “Besides, God has me in hiskeeping. n
performing my du . to humanity, I shall surely
not go counter to is will."

“ DidI the ‘Erase imperativer demand ygiur re‘i
sence we no Oppose your re ie .
her ’ardian. “But here_a11 thgglggnecega
can done without exposmg you. Stay here! ‘

He spoke decidedly. Though she gazed after
him anxious] . she never dreamed of opposing
his expressedy . _

But she was recalled to her . surroundings by
a discussion which was begun the moment the
assembl was relieved of Carleton’s resence.

“ Loo a-hyar, gents,” cried big use Finley,
“ is this hyar thing to be let to run? What air
ye goin’ to do about it?”

“that kin we do about it!" asked Moxy.
“ We’re in the box, an’ I reckon thar we’ve got
to stay.”

“Not much I" -

“ Show us the way out—that’s all i"

“ Burn the sheba over his head I”

All started at this endisrlétproposition.

. Lilian Amberleigh utte a cry of horror,
and gazed at the brute as it fascinated. _

He favored her With a soowl; then turned
again to his male auditors I

“Remember, you went back on me yester-
day,” he said; “an’ this hyar’s what you git for
Eur humanity l—a mig ty smart chance to

vethiscsmpruhbod out so clean that thar

and-
on 9.

upon any one

 

won’t be a grease-spot left to tell whar it stood.
Look a-hyar, gents—you know what small pox
is in this country. A 1year ago it broke out in
Pittman’s Bar, while t e lnjuns was blockadin’

the lace. Thar’s twenty unburied skeletons
up tliar today—what the wolves an' sich has
left of ’em!

Two men tried to run the blockade
an’ the Injuns ketched ’em. Out of a hundred
an’ fifty Injuns, seventeen got away! I reckon
we’d better burn onder shanty—don’t you ?”

And the girl w 0 had listened to this horri-
ble story With bated breath, saw its dread ef-
fect stem (1 on the gloomy faces of those men
in whose earts fear now supplemented hatred,
and slipping from the room sped with flying
feet to warn the gentleman from Pike.

And after her went the furious mob.

 

CHAPTER XII.
run ASSAULT.

“ Linux, in Heaven’s namel” exclaimed her
guardian. as ihe girl burst into his presence.

“ Oh, Will! Will-l” was the distracted reply,
“ they are coming to burn the cabin!”

“ Coming to what?”

“ To burn the house over this poor gentle-
man’s head! Ohls what shall we do to prevent
such monstrous wickedness and cruelty“ ’

“ Do!” repeated the man, his eyes blazing fire
as his face grew white and rigid. “We will try
the force of leaden 10 lo!”

With a firm stride e crossed the room to the
one window beside the door.

The crowd of miners were just pouring out of
the No-tic under the leadership of big Mose
Finle , who waved a hinting an black-smoking

ine~ not.
p Judge Wiggins, reluctant to take a prominent
part in this demonstration, yet in no wise dis-
posed to impede it, lagged in the rear.

Judd Baker and Tom O’Connor were excited-
ly arguing with the rioters. The remainin
half-dozen who had shared Carleton’s peril an
escape remained neutral, ewdently afraid of
the plague, and disposed to ield one man’s life
however unjustly or cruelly, as the price all
their own safety.

“ Hold on, boys!” shouted Judd Baker. “You
don’t know the Gentleman from Pike as I do.
If on push this thing, it’ll be war to the knife.
Hell never yield up the man he’s undertaken to
defend as long as he’s got a leg to stand on.
And remember, he’s a dead shot!

“That’s a game we kin all play at,”replied
Mose Finley. “Shall we let a man thats al-
ready electedto jswing breed small-pox in the
camp, that’ll leave us all to rot unburied?
What’s the word, boys?” ' '

“ No! No!”

“Devil a bit!” '

“ Smoke out the h ital rat 1”

“ Ef this hyar Gent rom Pike chooses to back
him he’ll have to take what he gits,” growled

big Mose Finley. “‘We hain’t lettin’ no stran— »

er come in hyaran’ run this camp-yen, fel-

ers

“Right fur you, boss‘i’"

“ Shoot ary galoot that interferes !” "

“Then thar ll be two of us!” shouted Judd‘
Baker. springing forward and placing his back
against the cabin door, while he presented a
frowning pistol in ei her hand. ’

“Arrah. ye‘divils! here’s another!
mimber. tha-ur’s a lady in this cabin!” cried

honest Tom O‘Connor, ranging himself beside?

Judd. “A thrue son of Erin is always found
on the soide av beautyvand humanity 1’ '
The door of the cabin opened at their backs,

and the Gentleman from Pike ste ped iorth:

and drew his two coadjutors behin him into
the doorway.

“ What is the meaning of this?” he. demanded,
facing the mob with a look that abashed most
of them.

“ It means that we’re a-goin' to burn thispest-
hole and all that’s in it 1” cried bi Mose Finley,

blusteringl . “Stand from un er, for we're,
TVs hain’t no call to hurt you; but. ;

a-comin’i
the Frisco Sharp is bound to go

“ Stop, gentlemen!” cried Carlo In, still draw-
ing‘no weapon, though Mose Finley, menacing-
ly waved his torch in one hand and is revolver
in the other. “ Since you are dead to all. con-
sideratiOns of humanity, I present one which
will appeal directly to your selfishness. I have
unde ken to protect this man, and I shall de-
fend him tothe death! While I live the man
who attempts to applyla torch to. this building
will he dropped in his tracks 1”

- “ We’ll see about that! Come on, boys!”
yelled Mose Finley, and instantlylblazed away
at the champion who seemed unprepared
for so sudden an assault.

But the assailed learEd to one side, unhurt
and the next instant Mose Finley went down, in
the snow, with a bullet in his leg.

“Idid not aim at his life, as you all must
see,” cried the Gentleman from Pike; “but the
next man dies 1” h

fit this moment a scream issued from the
ca n. ‘ -

For an instant Carletcn’s heart stood still.
He was paralysed bv the fear that Lilian had
been struck by Mose Finley’s bullet.- " '

moo...

And rev I

u in smokel”. "

 

!

But he heard her cry:

“ Oh, detain him! detain him!
his death 1"

He turned his head, and saw a strange and
startling spectacle.

The Frisco Snarp had risen from his bed, and
was rushing toward the door with the blankets
trailing about him.

With extended arms and eyes blazing with
insanity, he looked like some dread forerunne
of disaster, as he shrieked wild! : '

“ Flu! Fly for your 'very fees! In God’s
name fly I”

_ It was almost aquotation of that dread warm
ing which had rung nown the Death Can on
ten_ years ago; but of those who had hear it,
Lilian Ainbcrleigh was too young to remember
it, and William Carleton had not lyeen impress-
ed by his own words; so the coincidence had no
si ificunce for him now.

up, shocked by the unexpected fall of their
leader, this strange spectacle thrilled the miners
with. a sort of superstitious terror; and they
fled in a body, falling over one another in their
blind panic.

The rout would have been ludicrous but for
the tra ic elements that entered into the scene.

Jules t. Auburn Would have rushed forth in—
to the snow in his delirium, but he was cau ht
and restrained by Judd Baker and Tom 0’ on-
nor. Even their united strength might have
been insuflicient: but Carleton’s eye calmed the
gifizraught spirit, and the three got him back to

e .

Then the Gentleman from Pike strode forth
without a moment’s hesitation. passed the spot
where big Mose Finley lay gnashing his teeth
and roaning in pain and rage, and boldly en-
tere into the very midst of his late assailants.

CHAP. ER XIII.
PAID IN His own com.

IN rapid, eloquent words the Gentleman from .
Pike made his appeal; but nothing that he
could say would ovei come the miners terror of
the plague or move them to any show of self-
sacrificmg maguanimity. The utmost that he
could accomplish was a truce in which he and
his party were to be left to occupy the cabin
wit their patient unmolesicd. Food would be
brought half-we and leit for them to get, un- ,.
ill the end of t e snow blockade. After that
they must shift for themselves.

“It’s a poor preacher that don’t stand by his
own doctrine,” said Judd Wiggins, sullenly.
“As you’re backin’ humanity so strong that
gou’re w111in’ to put us in a hole with the Frisco

harp. of course on won’t have no cb ections
to eta 'n’, with in: yourself. E: be good
enou fur us, he’s good enough fur you 1”

“ olid duke!" rumbled Moxy.

“Ef you keep to yourselves,” pursued the

udge, " I reckon thar won’t be no more trouble.

lit e can’t none 0’ you come among us, an’

don’ ye try it, ur thar’ll be uar, sure! One

man kin back down a crowd when. they ain’t

partlc’iarl 'sot; but no two-legged critter-can’t

legal}? smfa’ -pox into this crowd, now mind what
ye ,

There are limits to what even boldness and
determination can accomplish: and the Gentle;
man from Pike knew that he could make no'
further head.

Without more ado he returned to the cabin;
Mose Finley was borne to the No-tie b .his
friends.» and night settled” down over ‘
Luck Camp. '

Then to] cived da‘ys‘in which the men of the
mini r cam watched each other With brooding
suspic 0n. he‘slighirstappearance'ot illness
caused the sufferer to lie shunned by his fellows.

Big Mose Finley n as the first ioiecl the cruel
force of the precedent he himself tadbeen fore-
most in esialzlis! ing. ,

“ Boys,” said Mary, gloomily,;“ thiir’s notwo
ways about iié-MOse is elected! . God only
knows who’ll' come next; bnt‘I reckon'we’ve

0t to take care of number one the best way we

now how.” .

“ What do you propose to do'about it?! asked
Jud e Wiggins.

“ ose pitched the trump himself. I reckon
he’ll have to swallow his own 311191,”. replied

Moxg. .
“ it?” asked the judge.
“ Git !”

“What d e say, b0 s?” rsusd the ad .

The '“ boy?” said no a £23m. Theirjgld‘ozny
faces answered for them.

“ Who’ll engineer the thing?” asked the judge,
once more" -

“I reckon your chief,” said Mo .

He will catch

A rumble of assent indicated thxeysense of the ‘

assembly.
Judge Wiggins picked out four men, and to-
gether they went to big Mose Finley’s room.
The wretched man raised on his elbow and
glared at them. He seemed to know intuitively
why the had come. _
“Waa , what’s the word!” he demanded. . ,
“Mose, I reckon you’ve got to~ git 1’? m an

“5%” fur?” V ' ‘ .~

“ You know what’s the matter with m. 1
“ Small-pox!” , E V .
n “ Small-pox!" .

 

 

 

 The gentleman. from -Pike.~-.

 

 

“An’ you propose to cart me to one o‘ the
empty shanties?‘

‘ at’s the vote of the majority. ”

“ Who’s goin’ to take care 0’ me?”

“ I reckon that hain’t provided fur.”

“ But when I’m out thar alone uobody’ll come

anignli.”
“ oat likely the boys ’11 be afraid.”

“ Who’ll bring me my grub?”

The 'ung was silent.

1lgig ose Finley answered the question him-
e

s .

“ Nobody l”

He brushed the matted hair from his brow.
His bloodshot eyes grew wilder. Then they be-
came piteous in their agonized appeal. There
was a strange quaver of weakness and helpless-
ness ard four in his voice, as he asked:

“An! is the boys goin’ to kick me out to die
out thar in the cold, all alone by myself?’

“ It’s you or us. It’ll be a doggone miracle if
it ain’tyou and us!” said the judge, solemnly.

“ An you’ve come to pack me out—now?"
cried the wretch, looking about him wildly, as
if for help or cscn c.”

“chl’ was the ow reply.

“ Not much I” fairly yelled the stricken man;
anfifrom beneath his pillow he drew a revolver,
an faced them with maniac defiance.

Moxy saw, what was coming. He was anman
who acted quickly in an emergency. With a
bound he was upon the bed and had clutched
the wrist of the other.

Then ensued a terrible struggle.

Big Mose Finley’s revolver was self-cockin ,
and exploded the instant his wrist was grippe .

One of the “ committee ”, uttered a sharp

c :-

1.me plugged!”

And he staggered blindly out of the room.

Bang! went the pistol again; and the men
engaged in that death-grapple rolled off the
narrow bunk to the floor making the house
tremble beneath the fall of their heavy bodies.

Completely demoralized by the terror of the
scene, the rest of the committee, including
J o Wiggins himself, rushed from the room,
w ' e others from below crowded u the stairs.

The maniac ells andoaths of big cse Finley,
and, the cries or he] of Moxy, who dared not
let 0 the man he ad grappled, all blended
wit the repeated discharge of the revolver,

 

and was again “ an the brain! av his back,” as
O’Connor sai

by the time her gfiardian Was upvand about
again, honest Judd aker was down. ’ ‘

This was the trouble of the exiles when they
beheld that blanketed form borne out.of theNo-‘
tic, where the miners. abandoning their separate
shanties, had unwiser huddled together,as if
to seek security in numbers.

“Be the powers! that’s the manin o’ the-
shooting u at the saloon,” said Tom :0 onnor.
“ They ve ad a fight an’ wan o’ the b’ys is laid
out. Which, I wondher?” ‘ ' '

“Oh! let us go and see,” cried Lillie,lshudder-
lug. “ Perha s the poor fellow is not yet dead.‘
They did not she long to asaértain. , Oh! how
cruel, how wicked they all are?”

The “ committee” had abandoned the pin 0-
stricken man without doing a single t ing
for his comfort indeed ,not even sto ping to
withdraw the blanket from his face each
man hurrying forth, as if fearful of being the
last in the room, ’ '

So our friends found him; and when the Gen—
tleman from Pike drew the blanket from the'
face, disclosing the ghastly blood-stained hor-
ror, even he shrunk back. ' ' ‘ ‘

‘ Swate St Pathrickl” cried Tom, O’Connor.
“But the ’v0 thrated that di'vil to his own
sauce! V ell! well! sure,it’sa strange Worrul‘d
wha-ur ivory wan gits his due in the long run! ’

The Gentleman from Pike soon discovered
that the man was not dead, but only stunned;
and a judicious application of brandy soon to-
stored him to consciousness. ' " '7

Stru gling tohis elbow, he glaredaround with
blood-s ot eyes his horrid visage causing Lilian
to shrink shuddering away. ' '

“Who in the devil are you, an’ what d’ye
want?" he demanded, sava ly. ' " *

“Your com anions abon on'ed‘you, thinking =

on dead, no oubt' and we' have come to'care ‘!
or on,” said the Gentleman from  curb-
ing is sense of repulsion. ' ' '

‘ Dead 1” repeated Mose, with a laugh of hor-
rible sarcasm. “Not they! The meninges

r set me adrift because I’ve'got the 

v
4

held the crowd dismayed, until Judge Wi s ‘

recovered his presence of mind and shout :-
“ Boys, we can’t leave Moxy to be murdered!
Come on i”
And he bounded back into the room followed
by others whose courage was equal to the risk.
For one moment a ter their entry pande~
pillonium revailed. Then came an ominous
ence.

_.__

senselees!

Loud talk and the tramping of hen. boots
followed. Then Judge Wiggins appears in the
doorway, ordering the men to clear the hall and

After him came four men, bearing a. silent
motionless burden, wrapped from head to foot
in blankets.

Moxy was one of the party, his clothes torn,
his taco covered with blood and smud with
powder, and his eyes blazing with dogg 'purv

MThrougl): the saloon and out in the snow they
passed a deserted shanty. Presently they
came forth—buere” I

As they filed back mto the saloon the crowd
looked questionineg at them.

Themen said not a word. Sulleuly they at
down around the red-hot stove. -

The gloom, the silence, in that crowded room
was horrible. On every hand were lowering
brows and covert galances of suspicion.

Behind his bar utler Bob stood pale with
fear, and glancing from one toanot erluntil he
could endure it no longer. ,

“Look a-hyar, boys," almost patheticall ,
“this sort 0’ t ing won t do! Step up and tag.
somethin’l”

“Hold on, gents!” cried Judge W!
“You know as well as I do that whi an’
small-pox would knock the devfl himself 0 t of
hhebootol We’re goin’ to have a mightgltight

_,0’ this, the best we kin do“ you
want to have one ur two left to bury the dead,
“all 1001’s “Vice, an’ let the benzine alone for
s

w days!”
omen shuddered. Notonestirrcd to accept
thfirhost’s invitation. '
‘Gents ” said Moxy, relating the incident
afterward, .“I reckon sich a thing never ha
‘ ned before an whar on this h or terrest
! gown int adipugxhé . Waa J”
B tetecamea v onfro h
chaxlgegl’tollookbtlmt :5 tbs wags); °’ 2”“ w °
‘ m ow . es am one or
blastodfools!” hy

 

CHAPTER 
m NGEL or u ,Lch,
11M Gamma first. e

se .shan tortilla .War ? .
was“  em'stifilays nag , 
. ’ . w . , a g ,. ‘ ‘
is «Tim-1.35% q ibe.  Jeni-Egg,

*MNcn-ch he overdone his such

ig Mose Finley had been knoeked,

no
Vufl'hen came the as: ' 'c' When“!

 

Devilish big hurry, too. They didn’t‘stopto”
build a.flre nor nothin’. You hold"; t'the

. plague yit,l see. Better ’light 'out'en thme
5 alone.

'm goin’ to be a bad customer. Ifeol
it in in bones)! ’ ’ ‘
All is s was interlarded with the most shock:
lug oaths. ' ‘  i

‘ We are not so brutal as the men who aban-
doned you,” said the Gentleman e.
“We will give you ,thehest care we can.”

“ And you’re the galoot that I huge kick out
o’ the No-tic, along'tvlth the Frisco tarp?” d
“rev   
on. e an me. ' ' "
y “Yo unmannerl "b V l’!‘ t ed Tom
goggngigkhsflh  9:}. {mill}?  YR”
, a as, we, -- omcavn ,‘

Mugsther curred; Idea '

mpg,ng #0  Wham-m

B" Moso‘Finle on! Icowied'blackmsl
gt foaumpps’baciim hamsters .; ‘
e we. . ‘ ‘
“Buildaflre " said theQen from Pike,
quietly. to the, rishman,‘ and w'! foiit'more can
set about, seconded by Lilian, to mlike'tbc‘ sick
man as comfortable  pager-film‘th
“Emma beginni ' a. ‘   Q
s was s n - an on man . s
Hardtoqu can was a‘lhmxfihouse mist!!! ~-
all distinctions _, lost. number '_
mound-came, tolthé HIS-tic  «awn ad
to the mantles in which in, the  to
panic strickenminers li'ad'ohc'n 11 their
noes. And to thebedside " many aflpcin-
 wretch her gentle woman’s aye came
mist-cases lieutenant
cy or. e o ' ‘ ‘ "
1" ’thful‘Judd
was

 ,_ as weak
hoarse w leper:— " ’

“I don’t regret ‘standin’gp
though it’sbrojifiht‘mé in? 94th. It , ,

aar' thus)? to ,“an’ Pd o‘itiag’in to'inorr'er.
anew wh wa’n’t human tngéhim that in
the snow, he waste, H’un.‘ ‘ k'bless‘ye' for
flour care 0”! a tough o d» cuss like Inc—jun you

' Lillia.

“ h,‘Juddl” cried,,Lilian,. weepin by the
bedside, “could we do'iessF-a'nd oufitbo'd‘by
ussonobly through the’In'dia q' ck!” 

The honest mountaintop, iled‘faiiitly._

“Iwas nd igpull "du throng ‘ "etlttook
aleg,”he said. “ oudi n’t t ‘ fichth
am you bam’tgotmch gt; Ii‘épl‘n'stge: 1
reckon it": 'causevquke‘ ' circa mid-
some. _'1‘he Lord don’tficnt to'jsplileaifliih'g
Eh’l’md‘hitlfi‘l'E’ ' t W  we
“I “Jeff-pug" 613%“,139. .. ..... ..  ..

The wasva me : 011$“,th
around lay horrors wighgwrngme .

C“"."‘th‘ '
:t‘iflhfthfis inflhtg: !

 thew.th had brought th "

for him on ’n.

  

9., our." .1,

upfinvsihtétmfithm whohad not in... 
0m.  H, -! ,... ...,
dow’ziflthdugh none knew was

I
!

So Lillie became nurse to both sick men, and | hatred was eq

t’I-notfnr’a'gln 9—? in

come next, would have wreaked dire vengeance
on tho- Frisco am, but that the man whose
V ‘ ed onl by his magnanimity
, stood betWQen him and ' enemies as unmoved
as a rock.

And he who had brou ht the dread scour e
‘ rose from his bed, pale an emaciated, but wit -
out a scar on that face which now took on a sort
of feminine beauty. He would have hel in
care for the sick; but the Gentleman from ike
not looking at him, but with his eyes on the
floor; his ace pale and his voice constrained

wiitih emotions that he struggled to suppress,
' sa :—-- ‘

“ As long as they do not see you lean control
them; but at the‘sight of on recovered when
so many of their comra es lie dead and un—
buried, they would burst all bounds. Romain
where you are."

Without a word Jules St. Auburn complied

At last there came a season when the hen-
vens poured down warm rains, the snows wrre
dissipated, and the mountain gorges resounded
with the rush of mighty floods. Then the glad
sun burst forth, an nature was at peace.

One night the! Gentleman from Pike stood be
‘ for. the man whom he had saved from the vio—
lence of his fellow-men and the ravages of
233m, and, as ' before, not looking at him,

“ The time has come for you to make your
escape._ The miners have sworn that you shall
never leave this place alive; and they may fall
upon you at any. moment. if you prolong your
 Follow me. "

till never looking at the man, he turned and
left the cabin.

WithOut a word the Frisco Sharp rose and
followed him.

Her woman’s instinct told Lilian that she
could not “blame of a man whom her guar-
dian  in this way. She did not approach
him but sat with her eyes on the floor, wonder-
in what terrible wrong he'had done to the man
sh’  ~ ‘ '

t Tlliie FriscoBhax-p parcel ived and respected her
as age. I

Out into the darkness he followod his guide,
until they came to a horse, saddled and bridled,
and with his boots mumedvin blankets.

‘William20arleton said nothing, but stopped
aside out of the path.

ulcs 81:. Auburn passed him, unhitched the
horse, and mounted in silence.

A moment he hesitated, He looked at his
Wear-var, and seemed about to speak at last.
“gist?” words of gratitude that trembled on

P5

The byes of the Gentleman from Pike were on

th‘efiround. He stood like a rock—waiting.
thout a'tvord, the Frisco Sharp rode away
in the gloom! '

Then Carleton's eyes rose, and looked where
the night had|swallowed up this man between
whom‘tnd’ himself fell so black a shadow of
ystery. ’ d so be —silent, motionless.
A ht footfall drew near. A graceful form
crept oso' tolrls side. Warm hands clasped
his and ruined it to loving lips, and a tear of
volceless-sym'pathy fell upon its back.

Tilth n his arm about her neck, drew her
head 11 n is breast and slowly, gent! stroked
her, ' . ‘Ahd the irbn stemness 0 his face
softened,..snd. one by one stranger tears slipped
down his check!»

Bethany two‘stood alone in the darkness!

CHARTER'IXV.

A smart my.
; “mu At‘m‘t she! Um! A choice article,
or has HarrAn’ thar’s Moxy—luek dogl—a-
bassin’ofhorsllaloneb himself! 11’ smiles?
Gee-whillikiqsl—l shoul say so! An’ a hull
band 0’ music—bass drum throwed in l—nin’t
shacks beside. her voice! An’ then them eyes!
Oh! rub the down with a brickbat! When she
looksiat me 311’ says: 4

H t Mr-  .

‘ “le haw! haw! Mr. Robert! Wash]
sw’arl ‘Ma h—HunkyBobl flat does me proud!

Whezis'he says to me:

i " ‘ l Robert, air we nearly to Angel's

Find? What a strange name,’ says she; ‘but this

is ’a strange country r and Wartime inhabit
n 7’

 

it. Air we nearly than el’s says she.
“ An’, Lorth dream 0’ peaches an’ cream,
’ birds.- an‘ sich!

‘1 ‘Ya'a'mI ,' as 1, as chipper as a tomtit.
“ It’s ‘stacroes dim ma’lm.’

“ ‘ hank’ee, sir,’ says she; an’ them eyes
fetched streaked feelins ’way up from my toe-
nails to the roots 0’ m ha’r! An’ now thar's
Moxy—Oh. thunder! «up I”

And Hunky Bob, in mt disgust at the un-

ual awards of fate, ' d his long whiplash
:2 timid-leader With a crack like the report of
a

hen: as the spirited mare and her mate took
to pra‘noing‘and tossing their heads, he soothed
them info a quiet trot again, saying in a purhng

tone:
'1“ths, Dolly! sassy. old gal! Gently.

by  beauties! 801.801

' While the subject of humedimiom
'lthepouh'u‘iu‘; dainty little creature.
“ depth“ the medium size of we

 

  
  



 

  

 

12

 

The Gentleman from Pike.

 

men, with great, piercing black eyes, and soft,
silken huir, as jetty as a. raven’l': wing, and as

fine and lustrous as floss. She sat cuddled up

in the corner, with a lag-gob?1 over lli‘ei‘thkneels ,
ut er nec , oug i

and a. soft, fleecy affair a
it was midsummer, giving one the impression,
not so much that she was cold, as that she was
delicate and fragile—a. thing that the winds
must not blow upon too rudely.

So exquisitely beautiful, so formed for pro-
tection, she was just the sort of woman to cap-
tivate great strong men and bend them to her
vcricst whim, ruling them with a rod of iron
without their realizing the fact.

To those rude fellows of the mountains she
was a revelation, a dream of enchantment, a.
creature from some other sphere.

Moxy started and blushed every time she
spoke to him, and could hardly find words with
which to frame his staminering replies.

“ Wan], yo see, ma’am,” he said, in reply to
her uesticn, “tliar’s a. kind of a. am back of
it. he place was called Hard uck, at first;
an’ doggoned hard luck the boys had that, too.
It was changed to Angel’s Find all along of
Miss Lillie.” .

“ Miss Lillie? A mountain belle?”

“A which, ma’um ?—beggiu’ er pardon l”

“Tho prettiest woman in t 9 camp, I pre—
sumo.”

“ The only woman, ma’am. An’ purty!
Wool, I reckon she’s jist the prettiest leetle gal
you ever see—present company excepted,
mu’aml”

“Oh, of course "—laughi‘ngly. “But who is
she? Miss Lillie what?"

“Waal, now, 1 allow you git me, mn’am.
,Lllic is about as for as I ever got in that

en .

“ How strange. Has she no surname?”

“ Oh, I reckon she has some’rs—in the States,
perhaps.” _

“In the States! Do people leave their sur‘
names behind them when they come to this de-
lightfull y original country i"

“ W rial, mostly, I reckon.”

“H'ml \Vcll, go on."

“Ye see, ma’am, she lives along 0’ the Gentle-
man from Pike.”
in; Anrepresentative in your State legislature, I

er.

“N o, ma’am; beggin’ your pardon, you don’t

drop to me jist right. The Gentleman from‘

Pike is a sharp from Pike’s Peak, ye onderstand
—the solid man an’ head referee of Angel’s
Fli'nd. ” Runs the only quartz crusher in the

ace.

“And this Mrs. Lillie, I presume you mean.
His wife?”

“ Waal, no, ma’am, not his wife."

“His sister, then 7”

“ N—n—o! not exactly.”

“ Ohl” said the lad

“on, it’s all n‘ghgl'” cried Moxy, hastily;

“You’d only orter see her onc’t, un’ then you
make no mistake.” .

“ Well, go on with your story,” said the lady,
as if not disposed to argue the int. .

Then followed the stor of e Frisco Sharp
and the darkest days of d Luck Camp, Moxy
concluding: _

“ Just about this time big Mose Finley got on

legs ag’in’. But he ’ wa’n’t noways hand-
some, . on kin bet! An’ the way he hated the
Frisco bar I Ireckon he’d ’u’ bolted him, taller
an’ hide, e he’d dro (1 onto him! so he
stirred the boys u w ich the same they didn’t
need much stirriu l—an’ we went for the shanty
whar Frisco had harbored. But thar wa’n t
nobody to home by Tom O’Connor. He blurred
us for a s all, an’ while we was a-sparrin’ With
him at c in—music up comes the Gentleman
from Pike un’ Miss Lillie.

“ ‘ What’s all this row?’ says be.

“And Mose reeled it off for him in short me-
ter. Fur Moso was sassy, no matter how many
times you downed him.

“ ‘ We’ve come fur the Frisco Sharp,’ says he;
‘ an’ this time we’re bound to fetch him, ur bu’st
the traces l’

“ ‘The Frisco Sharp is whar you won’t see
him ag’in in a hurry,’ says the Gentleman from

'ke, passiu’ us, and goin’ into the shanty, leav-
in’ the door 0 11 after him.

“An’ he dl ’t tell no lie. Frisco had lit out;
an’ we’ve never sot eyes on him from that day
to this. Of course the Gent had run in a cold
deal on us; but even Mose wa’n’t r y to buck
ag’in’ him; so the matter dropped. _

"After that, the fust thing we_ knew, Miss
Lillie dropped on a big flnd half a mile futher up
the pocket; an’ the boys has been iii‘clover ever
since. So that’s how we come to call it Angel’s
Find.”

Just at this instant a clear, ringing voice
sounded down the mountain gorge.

“ Halt! Threw up your hands!”

“ By thunder!” cried Moxy, in amaze. “ Blow
me of that don’t sound like road-agent business!
Never heard of that lay on this road afore.”

And as the coach came to a. standstill, he
thrust his head out of the door. _ .

Sure enough, there in the road sat a man on
horseback, his face disguised b a black mask,
and a rifle held menacineg at e shoulder.

“Waal, I sw’arl” ox Moxy, upon as-

l

 

 

‘ sol-lug himself that the coach had indeed been

halte by a knight of the road. “ This hyar be-
gins to sound like old Californy times. The coun-
try’s lookin’ up! We didn’t need nothin’ but a
sample 0’ these gents to make this hyar section
an airtth paradise. But we’re bound to have
all the modern improvements! Oh, we’re
comin’ along, bet or boots!”

And he rubbed ' hands and chuckled in evi-
dent enjoyment.
The lady passenger looked surprised.

“ And it’s a matter for seli'~gratu1ation that
we are to be robbed l” she asked.

“ Why, ma’ui, 0 see,” explained Moxy, “if
we was a pack 0’ eggars with nary an ounce in

our pockets it wouldn’t a nobody to take to trembling violently.
E P y l

the road. at the old song—‘ haltl throw up
yer handsl’—is a sign 0’ prosppri'tyl .We ought
to be thankful that we’re wo’th robbin’l
“But hyar’s the gent to speak fur himself.”
And, indeed, Moxy’s bit of Western philoso-

And he rode back to the side of the coach.

In this scene there had been a bit of by- lay‘
which had escapcd Moxy’s perception. A the
sound of the road-agent’s voice the strange lady
had started violently, with a suppressed ejacu-
lation which Moxy, in the surprise of recogniz-
ing) the Frisco Sharp, did not notice.

nly the delicate ear of the outlaw caught the
name:

“ St. Auburnl”

Whatever there was in it it affected him
powerfully, an agitation which Mo: ’5 address
served in a measure to cover, until 6 had rt

gained self—mastery.

Left alone, the lad lay back in her seat
ut when the road-a ent
‘ returned she sat proudly erect, evidently the

i forces of her nature in arms
“ Again I beg your pardon, madam,” he said,
, suavely, “for this unseemly interruption of
your journey. But ma 1 not know to whom I

phy was cut short by the appearance of the owe apology for which despair of finding the

road-agent at the side of the coach.
Some feminine whim
dro her veil over her ace, so that when the
rob or looked into the coach he saw only a little
woman quite as effectually masked as himself.
What the lady saw was a man of slender
elegant build, with small hands and feet, and
soft, wavy hair, dressed with a taste that would
not have shamed Broadway, and mounied upon
a horse of perfect symmetry and costly hous-

m s.

IVhen he lifted his hat the gesture was full of
grace, and when he spoke his voice was low and
melodious and his articulation polished.

“I beg your pardon,” he said. “I did not
anticipate the presence of a lady. Allow me to
reassure you, if I have awakened a prehensions
by my unceremonious intrusion. ut lbeg you
to be ieve that I yield to none in my reverence
for the sex that claims all our chivalry. And
Ear from giving you just cause for alarm, I

o
ut here the smooth flow of his apology was
cut short b Moxy, who shouted:

“ Waal, low me of it ain’t the Frisco Sharp
that I’ve been tellin’ ye: bout! Speak o’ the
devil, an’ e’ll see his horns!”

As for t e lady, she had started forward in
her seat, with a low ejaculation, and then sunk
back, in seeming agitation.

Perhaps her emotion was a woman’s natural
timidity; perhaps it was something else.

The words that sprung to her lips were:

“St. Auburn!”

CHAPTER XVI.
m GALLANT ROAD-AGENT.

“BUT, boss,” pursued Mox , “ how in Cain
did you manage to give us the 5 ip? You’re want-
ed up in Anflge ’5 Find. The boys has got jest
the neatest- ttin’ necktie you ever see, savin’ it
u fur ye. Thar’s some new faces up thar; but
t ar’s enough 0’ the old gang to give yo 9. rayal
boom, of so be you chip in.”

“My Christian friend,” said the road-agent,
in coo, measured tones, “it’s not always Wise to
tell all one ma know. A wagging ton ue often
digs a pit which discreet silence mig t have
brid ed over. I’ll trouble you to alight from the
cone .
fate compel me to levy a slight loan on you, it
were unseemly that such a transaction should
come under the eye of a lady.”

“ La! how tender you are of women critters l”
said Moxy. “ Now, of you’d only let, me off
along o’my mother or sister. I reckon I ought
to have one or t’other some’rs in this hyar reat
an’ lorious universe. Consider her feelin sl”

A though he indulged in his joke, Moxy obey-
ed promptly. Meanwhile, beuiath his careless
exterior lurked a lynx-like vigilance, and the
slightest negligence on the part of the Frisco
Sharp, might have cost him his life; for Moxy
was as loth to part with his gold-dust as the
average man, if it could be helped.

But the road-agent was not to be caught nap-

ing. Nonchalant as he was, he never lost
ints in a. game throu h carelessness.

“ March to the has. of the horses,” he com-
manded. -

Moxy complied.

Therg, out of sight and hearing of the lady, he
pursue :

“ Hand your arms up to me, and if on think
you see a chance for a snap shot at me uring the
operation, you are welcome to try our luck.”

“ Thank’ee; I ain’t takin’ no c ances,” said
Moxy, as he passed pistol and bowie knife over
to his captor.

“‘Now—with your leave l—for such a contri-
bution to my depleted finances as your generos-
ity may dictate, ’ said the road—agent politely.

“ Ya-asl” laughed Moxy. “ It does me proud
to dro my pile into the t, so that a. gent 0’

our elicate raisin’ nee n’t soil his Jilly-white

nds with work. But if I ever git aho t 0’ one
eend of a rope While you’re presidin’ at the
other, I hope you’ll be as per-lite. as I am now,
fin’ no‘tusgi’i’eal of I put in my best. licks on the
tune . . .

“ I never quarrel With fate,” said the Frisco
Sharp, With a gambler’s sense of predestina-
tiou. “ Oblige me bylreinainlngwhore you are
for a moment.” i -‘ ‘

Though the exigencies of an untoward.

rompted the lady to i

grace ’ V

“ You can have no interest in a stranger,”
said the lady, coldly. “ And since you are
plea sod to treat me so courteously, the novelty of
the adventure will more than compensate for
any momentary embarrassment. So, no apol<>
gy is necessary.”

“The graciousness, madam, with which you V
seek to quiet m Self-reproach only makes me
feel my culpabi' ity the more keenly. To have
caused so fair a lady a moment’s distress is not
easily stoned. And since in this wild country
fortune may at any moment favor me with an
opportunity to do you a sei'Vice, you cannot ‘
have the heart, surely, to deny me the know 1- ,
edge to whom my hopes may look forward to
making this slight recompense. ”

“Sir, you are persistent.”

“ Madam, it is the measure of my contrition ”
—wiih a low b0w. »

“ You seem to forget that you have not yet
reVealed yourself.” .

“ My only excuse is that I would hide
my face, for vary shame from one against
whom I have trespassed beyond forgiveness. '
But, since your word is my law, behold one who
places his pride beneath your feet.”

And with movements of his own liar
grace the Frisco Sharp deftly removed his mask. '

Beautiful of feature as symmetrical in form,
his humility of look and attitude contrasting
with the pride of the noble animal he beetrode,
Jules St. Auburn sat before the veiled lady a
culprit whose penitence might well move the
hardest fcmale heart, but beneath the long lash-
es that drooped over his languid brown eyes
glowed a burning curiosity.

This man was lke a volcano draped in peace-
ful verdure.

As for the lady, the sigth of his face must '
have called up memorii st at moved her as pro- .
foundly as had those evoked by the sound 0 his
voice; for she gripped her hand spasmodicall ‘
in the folds of her dress, her bosom flutter "
and her vall was disturbed by agitated breath- ,

in .

For a. moment a dead silence fell between‘
them, the Frisco Sharp waitin patiently. .
That silence was broken by t e sudden clan

of iron-bound hoofs which, in and itle in the sun
which form ed a portion of the road, rung outl
with startling clearness when they struck a spot,
of bare rock. ' .

The -isco Sharp looked up and discovered I.‘
party of Si me halt-doze horsemen coming into
51' ha; round a bend at no eat distance. '

Wllithout any show of trepidation in look or
voice, he said: '

“Pardon me, madamh if the necessity of,
abruptly terminating our interview prompts me
to nige ou to the fulfillment, without iurther‘
dela , o ' your implied engagement.”

“ recognize no such implication, sir,” sold
the lady, haugbtily. “Ride on, and save your"
self from the danger which threatens you. V

“Why do you bid me thus?” said the man
makng no efi‘ort to escape, but leaning forward
in his saddle, and bending apon the woman a
look of hung?7 longing. ' hat interest have
you in my sa etyi’ I ‘

“What, indeed?” replied the lady, coldly.
“Let us sup) ose a woman’s natural reluctance
to witness oodshed.” g

Still he lingered though the riders were closing
in upon him rapidly, and to be taken by them
meant death. _

If he waited to see if the imminence of his
peril would make the lad betray some token
of nervousness, he waited in vain. She sat pen .
fectl still, seemingly unmoved. ' . '

W at manner of woman was she—this dainty
creature whom one would have expected to
shrink from the crushing of an insect?

A tall, imperious woman might be cruel: but
she—she wa scarcely more than a child in
stature, and her delicate organism seemed
fornield only for love and softness.

' o
cious ciggumstances,” said the Frisco Sharpz
.with perhaps a suspicion of tender regret in ii,
voice. Then with a lingering lookand some-

thing like a sigh, he turned his horse and sped
uwu . ,, .,~
Ainllylngu-ybomlloxymndthow ‘

 

to see you again undermore auspl— \

r
\

 

 

dashed forwar

 

The Gentleman

.1
e

from Pike.

’13

 

 

ing horsemen caught the meaning of the scene,

' and, yelling, dashed in hot pursuit.

In the leader of that party the vailed lady
saw a man with the stony face and blazing eyes
of an avenger.

At sight of him all the blood in her body
seemed to rush back upon her heart. Faint,
dizzy, gasping, she murmured:

“0h, heaven! It is hei—it is he!”

But the Gentleman from Pike knew nothing
of the woman. nor of the emotion his coming
stirred in her breast. His stern, implacable eyes
Were fixed on the flying figure of the Frisco

Sharp. Through his brain seethed the one
thought:—

“Now we are man to man! He shall ac-
countl’

 

CHAPTER XVII.
MAN 'ro MAN.

Even when an ignominious death menaced

the Frisco Sharp, the strange ladv to whom be
appealed had not nr ed him to flight, nor be-
trayed any outwar signs of discom osure.
But that this was the result of a strong e ort of
the will was proved by the fact that, the mo—
ment he was gone, she sunk back in her seat
panting and unnerved.
“ Again he crosses my path l” she murmured,
behin her vail. “Once he was In evil genius.
Will he be so again?l No. But or my fickle
vanity his treachery would have fallen ower-
less. Ah! I have suffered since then! have
drank the bitter drags of—sin? Well, fashiun-
able sin! It was to drown remorse—a futile
effort!

“To hold the crown of life and to throw it
uwayl Ah! the recollection has driven me to

_ desperation. I have sought reprisals; but sur-

cease of pain is not to be found in inflicting

- suffering on others.

“And now this hope! Can the past be re-
deemed? Twelve years! Has he ever forgiven
me’ll My constancy must move him. Oh, it
must—it must! I will go down on my knees—”

But here her soliloquy was cut short. The
party in pursuit of the Frisco Sharp swept past,
and she caught sight of their leader—the Gentle-
man from Pike.

At sight of him the lady gasped convulsively,

: and started forward from her seat with clasped

hands. _
“ Oh, Heaven! It is hel—it is he!” she cried.
Then with hands that quivered like aspen
leaves she tore her vail as1de, and thrust from
the coach window a face utterly devoid of color,

. gazin after the receding horseman with eyes

that fished like black diamonds.

“Oh, Will! Will! my darling!” she noted.
“To lhave found you again, after a these
years '

Then swift-comm tears hid him from sight,
though she dashed t em away impatiently; and
sobs convulsed her until she sunk back into her
seat, overcome with excess of emotion.

Meanwhile, the Gentleman from Pike, being
better mounted, had distanced his comrades
and gained upon the flying road-agent.

There was a terrible look on his passiondis—
torted face. ‘ Its white fury and the merciless
glitter of his eyes were fairly demoniac.

“ Now we are man to man i" he muttered be-
tween his clenched teeth. “One of us must die!
I have not sought him. When fate gave him
into my hands I let him escape. Why did he
not stay away? He has courted my vengeance.
On his head beitl Bah! he has forfeited his
worthless life a. score of times. Why need I

feel compunctious about executin what the
law of an land would sanction? . I will
‘ not witho d in hand. He dies! Yet he shall

have an equ chance. I am no murderer. I
will kill his horse; and then he shall fight me,
man to man.”

The speaker looked over his shoulder. His
companions were not in sight. He listened.
He could hear the clang of their horses’ hoofs
far down the mountain gor e.

“I have gained sufficient v upon them. We
can have it out before they come up,” he
mused. _

Then he puts urs to his horse, and the animal
, at increased speed, showmg
that his master had purposely prolonged the
chase that, when he overtook the Frisco Sharp.
the two mi ht be alone.

‘ ‘ eon he cosed the intervening space, until

the flying1 road-agent was within pistol range.
Then he Gllbemtely took aim, not at the ’man,
but at the horse, and d.

In the early part of the race the Frisco Shai-
had glanced over his shoulder and discover
who was the only pursuer he had cause to fear.

After that he did pot look round, but rode
erect in the saddle, givm his whole attention
to the management of his horse. It was plain
that he made the most of the animal’s s

and bottom: but beyond that he seem to

have no concern. _
“ hit come at last?” he mused, with the spirit
In. “ It is sure to come in the end.

, of
Well,.I will lose no chance. If my utmost ef

fort fails, it will be because it is decreed. And
go is here. What place more unlikely for us
me to meet! I wonder if fate has sent her to

. “My! the punishment of my psi-Ad: cudbers?

 

It looks that way. Else, why is she here?
Heigho! life’s a. ame of poker, after all. If
you don’t draw t e cards, you can’t blufl for-
ever. l’ve always played mine for all they
were worth, and never ‘squealed’ when I got
beat: and I’ll do it to the end. So here goes
for the grand match—perhaps the rubber l”.

He drew a revolver, turned in his saddle, and
fired. But, strange to say, if the antagonism
between these men was so deadly, he too fired
at the horse, and not at the rider.

A cry of sin from Carleton’s horse showed
that {he Frisco Sharp was no bungler With the
pisto .

Then, speedin at break-neck pace along pass
and precipice, 5 0t after shot was exchanged
by these strange foemen, neither of whom aimed
at the other’s life until the horse in advance
sunk lifeless in his tracks, and his rider, alight-
ing agiler on his feet, stood beside him with
folded arms, awaiting his doom!

There was no fear in his face as he turned it
toward the man who had hunted him down.
Even in the last grand defeat he preserved the
inscrutable mask of the gambler.

Dashing up to him with unabated speed, the
Gentleman rom Pike drew his horse upon his
haunches, and leaped to the ground.

The animal stood anting, and gazing fear-
fullv at the dead of his own species.

The men presonted a stran e contrast—the
one with drawn revolver so she on by passion,
the other with arms folded across his breast as
unmoved as marble.

“ Now we are face to face l” cried the Gentle-
man from Bike—“ not by my seeking, but be-
cause, with your wonted perversity, you chose
to stay where your life was forfeit after I gave
you a chance to escape. Then you was at a dis-
advantage. Now we are man to man. If I fall,
{lagers satands a .léoméothalt gill easily carry you

on ursui . me aw our wca
WE havepno time to waste!” y M

The Frisco Sharp smiled icily. .

“ Fire!” he said. “Fate has given you the
opportunity, and your vengeance is just. As for
me, do you think that I could draw a weapon
against your mother’s son, even if I had cause,
which God knows I have not?”

“ I do not share our nice scru les ” said the
Gentleman from ike, sternly: ‘ and you shall
not escape me by any such ‘ugglery. Draw, if
you are not a coward as we l as a villain l”

d The lip of the road-agent curled with dis-

ain.

“ I can aflord not to resent a charge which,
as you make it, you know to be without founda-
tion,” he said. “Do you think that I would
avoid death at your hands by subterfuge? No,
you know better.”

“Draw, I command .you again!” said the
other. waving his hand as it impatiently brush-
ing aside idle subtleties. “ I am no murderer. I

ive you an equal chance. But both of us cannot

save this spot alive! Draw, 1 say, before I
shoot you down like a do i”

The Frisco Sharp stoo motionless, his great
brown eyes fixed upon the face of his enemy,
not with fear or anger, but with sadness, await-
ing his doom..

arleton raised his cocked revolver and train-
edit on a line with the other’s forehead, just
between the eyes. - ,

“ Drawl” he commanded, in a choking voice.

Jules St. Auburn moved not a muscle

“Then die I” ‘

Just coming into sight, those who had been
under Carleton’s leadership saw this picture—-
the dead and the livin orse: the man with
folded arms and him wit revolver extended at
arm’s length; and, around, the riven rocks,
bearing witness to the terrible convulsions of
nature, fit setting for the deadly passions of
men.

A moment of awful suspense followed.

Then the hand that was wont to be as firm as
rock began to tremble—the eye that could cut-
look the mountain lion wavered—the man of
iron resolve was shaken to his inmost soul!

His arm sunk to his side. His head drooped
on his breast. His face worked convulsively.
His breast labored with a sob.

"I cannotl—I cannot!" he almost moaned.
u G61_go I”

‘No look of surprise. or relief, or gratitude ap-
peared in the face of the Frisco Sharp. He ac-
cepted the smile of. Fortune just as he had re-
ceived her frown.

Without question or hesitancy he took his
late foe at his word, mounted the living horse,
and, not looking back, rode awa before the on-
coming mounta nmen just as he d ridden be-
fore their leader.

The surprise of .the party may better be im-
agined than described. A murmur of wonder
and discontent was on every lip. But when
they came up to wheretheir leader stood on
the verge of the prempice. not heeding them,
but azing into vacancy, his. white. set face
and t e slumbrous fire of his eyes abashed them,
crind no one durst question his strange con-

not.

But one fr0wned in sullen hatred. and let his
mutterings be heard. I , .

The Gentleman from Pike turned his eyes
upon him—Q terrible look. >

‘ sich things

 

Bigd Mose Finley slunk behind his comrades,
cowe .

The men accepted the pursuit of the road-
agcnt as at an end. No one had the temerity to
continue the chase in the face of their leader‘s
tacit decision.

O’Connor dismounted and led his horse for-
ward with awkward diflidence.

“ Will yer honor, Musther Calrleton, accept
the loap 0’ me poor haste?” he asked. “Sure
suri- —

“ N 0, thank you,” re lied the Gentleman from
Pike. “ The coach wi 1 be along presently.”

The men sat their horses apart, whispering
among themselves. until the stage arrive .

The Gentleman from Pike entered and took a
seat, too much engrossed in his own gloomy
thoughts to give a glance at the lady Occupant,
who a few minutes before had called after him
with so assionate an appeal.

Now 5 e shrunk trembling in her corner, hei-
vail closely drawn, and no subtle instinct warn-
ed him of the vicinity of—

CHAPTER XVIII.
non 'ro FACE.

Warm the Gentleman from Pike sat im-
mersed in gloomy thought, the breast of the
strange lady was torn by a storm of conflict-
ing emotions—hope and fear, love and remorse.
It was well that er thick val! hid her agitated
face—the pallid cheeks, the quivering lips, the
tear-streaming 6 es that scanned every linea-
ment of the man s clouded countenance, with a
longing unutterable. .

‘ That they should meet l” she mused, With a
sick quailing of the heart—“ and at this of all
times! Oh! it will harden his heart against
me even if I m' ht have won his forgiveness.
Did he overtake im’l They must have recog-
nized each other. Can he have killed him?
Oh! how my folly, my weakness, in wicked-
ness wrecked all our lives! Will! W l! I loved
you, for all 1”

Bearing this strangely united yet divided
£2113 the stage-coach rumbled and swayed and

unced into Angel’s Find, a more pretentious
place than the parent Hard Luck, hoastinga
re or weekly coach, a stem -mill, and last,
no least in the pride of some. t e Metro ohtan
Hetel, into which the No—tic had bloom .

Our hero leaped from the coach, and assisted
the lady to alight, from habitual courtesy, not
looking at her. ' '

How her hand trembled while it rested for a
moment in liisl

“ Oh! if be but knew!” she mused. “Would
he be as kind?” .

Then he was gone, and the lady, almost with
tottering steps, entered the hotel.

Once in her room, she threw herself face
downward on the bed and gave way to a storm

of tears.

“ Oh! he will never forgive me! he will never
forgive me!” she subbed. in des ir. “ He will
spurn me from him as a po uted wretch, I
know! But he must for 've me! he shall for-
give me!” she pursued, su den passion homing
up her tears, as she sprun up and began to
pace the room. “I won or what passed be-

weennhim and Jules. If he stands in my
wa —

She left 01!, stopping abruptly in the middle
of the floor, and er clenched hands, and set
teeth, her frown and the flash of her black eyes
were not leasant to see. Evidently her nature
was not a l softness.

Descending to the hotel arlor, she summoned
the landlord—Butler Bobt 6 “boys” still called
him, then 1: bis advertisment in the Desert Newl
read:-“ our. Hiooms, Pro .”

He placed himself at the service of his guest
with all the chivalry of Western deference to
woman.

“ Will you please to tell me who is the ntlc-
mindwho assmted me from the coach ” she
as e .

‘The Gentleman from Pike you mean,

ma’ami" replied Butler Bob. “Waal, I reckon

he’s the boss 0’ this hyar town. He runs the

guartz-cr’ushor you see on yonder raise 0’ ground.
man—

But the lad interrupted him breathlessly— 1

“The Gent man from Pike 1”

She flushed scarlet, then turned pale. She

 

‘was thinkin of what Moxy had told her of a

man called t us.

Sutler Bob stared in wonder and ciriosily at
her emotion.

“That’s the handle he goes by in these parts,”
he said, slowly. ’ r
' “A strange name.” murmured the lady, per-
haps to cover-her confusion.

‘ ‘Tbar’s no accountin’ fur tastes,’ authc old
woman said when she mistook a ackage of
pepper fur a mun-box,” replied utler Bob,
oracularly. ‘

. “ A married man!" asked the lady.

antler Bob grinned.

“Wool, ma am ” he replied, “ this hyar ain‘t
a likely country to speak knowledgeany1 in

. consarnin’ my man. Ye see, w on
:pélgrim shakes the States an’ strikes in: pick
I!

the soil 0’ this glorious western country he

"NWYWMWMWOIHWfiM

14

The-Gentleman from Pike.

 

 

113;) fine he gits a shemf’s deed I" lau'ghed-‘Sutlcr
O . .

The lady changed the subgect ebmptl . H '

“Did you hear the story 0 his encoun r with
the man who sto ped the coach?” 

“ Tho Frisco S arpll Waal, nOW, that’s some<
thin’ curious about t at. Th b0 8 :llows thsr’s
somethin’ between them two. {git be they go
cahoots, yo understand; thong the _ at ,has
let Frisco off twice; which the same leaks a lit-
tle queer to a man up a tree, allowin’ that‘ they
hate each other like ’ison.”

Sutlcr Bob told 0 story of Bt. Auburn’s
strange encounter with the Gentleman 1mm
Pike, as witnessed by the “ boys," then preceed- ‘
ed to philosophiza: ‘ H

i‘ This hyar’s what gets everybgldg—of the

he

Gent wanted to let him ofl, why he'shoot
his boss? He had the pistol tohiS' , ad when
the boys coine in sight; an’ alloij sudden ‘he
seemed to Wilt, an‘ he was all broke u

n
Perhaps the ladyghad the keyth the" fiddle; I

for when she was alone again ‘sh‘e‘pa‘oed ‘her
room in a new excitement. , H

“ He loves mo still!” she“murmured. “Else
why would he be so deeply moved? I must see
him at oncel A look may bridge all the bitter

past. ‘

“But this girl,” she pursued; “who is she’l

What are her relations with him}? _, ‘ , I
‘Thke pallor of a jealous fear oVers'pread‘her
caee . , _ , , , _

“Can she be beautiful?” she mused—“more
beautiful than I?” l . , - ,

She turned to the little 831143.179 
It showed her a. petite figure and piqu , , co-
quettish face—a face and figure “that, disguised
her age, making her look at least ten years
3 ounger than she reall was. V

“Bah!” she mussd ‘sdainfu‘lly, “what ’have
I to fear? Some mountain hoidenl I‘have
culture, refinement, style. They, will'count
most with him.” , ,

But a feverish unrest possessed her, and just
in the gloaming she le t the hotel,.to wander
mend what she had heard called the “Angel’s

e.

A few minutes after her departure a’ rather
small inan in rough miner’s garbehferg the
office of the Metropolitan and'examin ’the
register. The last entry was—

“Mns. BELLA Seaman, , ,
’ SanFnanorscq-Ou.”
The minor was seized with 'a sudden fit of
trembling, and his spasmodic grip rumpled the,

a e. . . ,_
p gHallo, thar, stmngerW‘shouted Sutler ,Bob.
‘.‘ What’s the matter with out 4367011 drunk?"

Mumblin some eulate‘ ‘a logy, ‘I the
miner slouc ed’his hat further over eyes and
13‘“ the room and the town, passing‘the Angel’s

Lode.

The sun sunk behind the mountain-peaks; and
the moon took her place in the jhsavens. , .

In the wilderness of rocks ,andeood‘s the
miner lifted his hat to let the'T'c ‘ might wind
fanhisfeveredtemples. Thesilver _t' 4_ -
gig over him, disclosed the features of the Frisco

‘ ar . , , V, V

“litis she,” he mused. “.‘hl knew it." I" ve
followed her into the lion’s denl‘ She' 'yet
lure me to my doom! Hal what’sthisl”, I

He shrunk to cover at the ‘soundotfif , ps.

Into the moonlit glade which 'he he'd, rut va-
cated came a. man with a strange, rapt  in
his steady gray ‘e es. ' He'swung' 118,. care-
lessly in one han , while he ran the fingers of
{be other through his hair with'nervous rest- '
essness.

There was a grand, uplifted look, about him,
as if his soul ha been flooded‘with a new'h‘ap-
piness, a new' hope. It dilated his  t
irradiated his man thrilled in the‘tones 0 'his
voice as he asked himself, aloud, with ‘a "sort of
exultant defiance:

“ Wh not?” toms m

As if n answer qu th  or a
woman appeared at the other j V'e. of t e“ V 6.
She sunk on‘ her knees in the; moonn b I .and
raised her clasped hand and teari- eyes
to him in a mute appeal. 

The man stopped and stared at the ww in
dumb amazement. I . ‘ , , ‘ .

A crimson cloud‘seemed to float béfi the
vision of the F‘riseo’S : the smell 0  90d
was in his nostrils; the so d of rushing‘w ' n
in his ears' his brain was in a‘whirl';
was in his heart! . . , ., , ,

Scarcely conscious of what he'did, lid drew
hisrrhzvolver from its holster.

n—

91'

 

CHAPTER XIXL , . _
m GENTLMAN FROM m A"! HOME. ,
THE strange conduct. of the Gentleman
rike was thoroughlgacanvassed in th‘e‘ bin- at the
Metropolitan. lg 086 El ey wes‘open in llle
reprehension and found “garters among the
worst men oi the town,

“Ill:1 tell ye , [whafit it ifgéntd,” lie"  it’s
in t cur ous‘w. en' :15 1,1; ,_ an I,
,niigightfv that he kin it: , QflILJQlkzwn. ‘ 0

ever heard o’lettin’a rosd-‘ageu . ,. he ye

had him’ dead to rights? It ’ud take, a wet o’
‘spap to make 7'??? h’.ieve that 'the!‘ ws’n ‘a‘nigo

..h
w

fingnthe fence somewhar. I allow the time
‘ ’ ’t fur‘ofl when this burg '11 have to have a.
show 0’ hands all round; an’ then some
0’ these white-‘livered individooals will open their
e es.
y“ Co—rectl” assented one burly knave. .

V “ Now’s as'good a: time as any, accordin’ to
my Roldan, ’f suggested another.
, ' 11 want 13 backin’,” said Mose. “Come,
put or shut upl, Who’s a-givin’ of us wind,
an’ gw ’o’s got the sand to back up their chin-

m 'c’! ’

afield on, gents,” interposed Moxy. “ Jest
remember it’s a bad man you’re proposin’ to
handle, After you set the ball a-rollin’, hev
you calkalated whar it’s goin to fetch up?"

.“I reckon a man’s onlya man.”

“But this hyar’s a 13tu hefty one.”

“L’amt seme 0' his tricks on the road, no
doubt." , , ,

“ You know better, Mose. He ain’t that sort. ”

“ Maybe you’re his‘pard, as Well as the Frisco

“Sh .

Wot much! ' No more is he in with Frisco.
Wily, boys, a‘man ‘with half an eye could see
'th t the:- was a red-hot b’ilin’ between them
"two. ' Let ’em alone, I say,'an" it’ll be dog eat
dog store long, take my word for it. When the
thigg‘li’loes come to a head, then stand from

or

Whether it was that:man'y;held to this view,
or because they dreaded the pro of the man
under discussion, at any rate Mose did not get
th? backing he had‘invited.

‘ ‘All rig t, gents,” he growled. “ I see est
what: this ‘hyar town’s‘wOrth. Ef you see im
laid out some flne'mornin’ without none 0’ your
hel , don't ask me who done it 1”

"Bron all knew big Mose Finley for a des-

rate 0 tractor, ‘no one realized the result that
this threat 'was destined to Work.

' ‘Meanwbile, the Gentleman from Pike careless
at what jll‘ldfiment public opinion passed on him,
had sougt .is'ow’n‘home. ‘

I ' His'ge'ntls'Ward espled him coming, and With
,blonddhail'flying‘loose in the wind, ran to

meet him.
"‘05, Willi I’ve such a supper! Just what
on—
f Buthere' her pride in her culinary triumph
‘was"s'udde'nly fergotten.‘ She saw t at some-
‘thing hadfdisturbed’him more deeply than she
galseenhim‘movedj sincethat strange partin
woods

the’ll‘rlsoo Sharp in the night-shadows

’ It was yet an"uns_o'ived mystery to her.
Without question she had soothed him with her
love. ' Now sh‘e' under the task'anew. Slip-
gefliand into his,"she walked silently by
‘ Theman' w “touched. He made a. brave
effort to throw of hisg‘loom, that it might not
cloud her happiness.

“I have a mantra in my little housekeeper, I
know," he said, tryiugto smile.

She looked shyly up into'his face. Mi ht her
,‘cheerfulness‘woo him from his trouble She
Would try. ,

“The venison is donate a turn,” she said,

 . again. ' _. “And the tatoes1—the are
‘: (aw-'gtowned in a quick ovfil” y
-She’rlpsled a silvery laugh at her {:3 and
{fit reps: when ,he aflectionately also her
‘ sir as‘they‘ent’ered the cabin. , _V

Within ‘all was as neat as a new pin. The
cliqth, wasso snowy that it did not matter that
t et'able' beneath t wasgplain pine instead of
walnut. If the cups and saucers were delf_in-
stead of, china, one forgot the fact in sipping
th'e nectar they contained. As for the viands
that‘smoked on the clean-ewe t hearth, their
‘toothsomenem dysfulsed the‘stee knife and fork
better than a trip 6' plating of silver.

A basin “thatyyou could seeyour face in."
freshly filled from the sparkling mountain rill,
‘awaited the lord of the manor, togetherthh an
honest crash towel that had no reason to envy
the more pretentious Turkish. V

Clear cold water is a wonderful antidote for
ills" spiritual, as well as physical; and while the
master of the house was making himself a. new
man by nature’s simple medicament, the young
housewife flitted' hither and thither like a flut-
tering bird-mother and set a banquet flt fora
 " mlsde‘ poetical by an artistic arrangement

, V ves.
'qt‘lidw ‘e'delicate' color came and went in her
fair cheeks—how her eyes danced—how _her
breathiiuttered with pleasurable antici tion,
as. She‘ captured him and led him to his p see at
the head of the table! It was touching to see
how‘ Self-complacency and sh timidlty strug-
gledi‘éor the ascendancy, as s e waited for his
VB. .

‘P omehow, the great brightness she brought

into big ‘lifglinipressed him do; 1yt filo-$81317; 17:;
.Q‘ 69 ‘ contrastwt 6 now
that geyhfi ' 1-; been recalling; and when

e lookeddown ,to her upturned, ex .ctant
taco,'there Was dish-an humidity in eyies
‘that no one but she“ ever was allowed to see; e

had ot been sh to l t silent. tears
  x “easement.- ° -

course ‘ ‘noe.

aid, in a voice somewhat bus " _ wit emotion:

 

“ It is perfect, (1cm. After a ; there is a‘ gold

. Now he beat and_.kiss er‘ sun ‘hfifi‘and‘

 

more precious than that which we dig out of the

earth. You are the warmth and brightness and

rl’ume of my home, little housekeeper—little
ante-keeper 1”

She blushed with pleasure. Her lustrous egos
sought his for a moment with an indescribs lo
look—a look that thrilled him strangely, and
awakened new thoughts.

W hat was it? An answering look in his eyes!
With a subtle, gliding motion she slipped from
his encircling arm, inspired it seeme , with a
sudden sh ess that drove the color from her
cheek, an left her pale and tremulous.

Then she sat down in her place at the o to
side of the table, and tried to look "ma y as
she poured his tea.

It plainly cost her an effort to appear natural
and at her case. What was the meanin of that
nervous incertitude, that shrinkin midit ,
and thoso thrills of unreasoning de ighti» a
felt as if she must burst into tears, if shelor a
moment relaxed the restraint over her onio-
tions. Was it with excess of happiness, or'with
a vague pain? She did not know.

And for the first time in her life she had’t so-
cret from “ brother Will.” For all the world
she must not let him knowi—oh, no! no‘l no!
She blushed at the very thought.

Just what it was, or why it must be hidden,
she would have found it im orsible to‘put into
words; but the feeling was t ere, all' the same—-
the most powerful she had ever eXperienced.

Opposite sat the man and, not apples-fin; to
do so, watched the rapidly shifting c angu in
her ingenuous countenance, and'over his; soul
crept a great wonder, at. great gratitude, find a.
great peace!

The girl chatted incessantly, flitting from
theme to theme with an abruptnessof transition
which showed that she was not thinking of
what she was talking about. ‘Eer 111va and
sparkle was a. new revelation, even in hersunny
nature.

The man replied quietly, almost in'i'n ' )-
lables; but there was nothing of" sadnessfli is
manner, now. I , , I

After the meal, he could not trust himself to
sit with her as was his wont. She had apfashion
of playful! tumbling his hair and than combin
it, to pro uce various, ofttimes ludicrous e -
(sets, which she hightened b * making ddrre-
spondin modifications in his as.

New s e would tie her handkerchiefabbut his
throat, like a “ choker,” button up hid can
and brush his hair “slick,” in’ the ministéi‘ia
style. A moment later she would'have his'hair
tossed “seven we 3 for Sunday,” hi'l ’ebllar
filled up, and his at leached overhis brows,

' e a. veritable bri dl _ .

How gleefully s e would laugh; now she
would do him mock reverence in one charaidter,
and pretend to be afraid of him in the other.
How childlike was this innocent little girl-Wo-
man, after all! _ ‘

And the man who could awe a furiousmob
with a. glance of his eye, enjo edit—indeed at
such times seemed scarcely ess a child than
she. The tact s eke well for his heart. ' _,

But tonight 6 was afraid to put' himself in
this position. He must get away'and t‘hiukit
out by himself. ‘ A,

She scarcely understood the excuse'ho made
to get away from her. When he'had left the
house she ran to her room, and ‘ idin'sllér‘fm
in the pillow, ave way to e‘floo ‘ of’téan
with which she ad been struggling. That
ed, to he succeeded by a strange sense ofe, ion,
and she flitted about the house with a’lighbome
mg, singing like a. bird.

er face was irradiate: her eyes took on a
new brightness; the supple grace of her move-
ments came a rhyt mic poem; her beauty
would‘have been a revelation, even to those'vvho
knew her best. , u ‘

And at this crowning moment a pan- of black
eyes were regarding her from out in thc' dork-
ness and in a woman’s heart was beingde
the fires of a maddening Jealousy.

CHAPTER XX.
was. RIVALS. ,
Mons than one masculine eye I) httned u
the sight of Mrs. Bella Seaford, as s e 'left’the
Metropolitan. The homage of Angel’s Fluid Gm-
bodying itself in rude metaphor, she wa's' ro-
nounce a “crusher,” a “screamer,” a
“lisaisy'iaod k d bod was.
very yas e ever els'ev‘vho" ‘
“whar she come irony); an what “'cdi‘l’lho
had at Angel’s Find—t0 all of 'which thii‘s‘dply
was in subs

 

tanCez— . _ ,

“l310wed ef I know. was 1 our  ye
even that she stays, m- that she dpn’t’stay.
What d’yesa i lsitagoi” , r ,_

The enthu m of Angel’s Find always found
one vent. Every man was ready to “'b‘ack”;‘his
opinion “ for all he was worth in matted-s of
far less moment than that gracefnl'walk. TE!
a dainty bit 0’, caliker like thatm’mt‘wo’tn
losin’ or money on‘, there wa’n’t nothin’i”.

‘ EPe ape the lad was used to 
Certainly she» ai. '_no  to 'the. “boom ”
outggeons'liy‘ ndered‘ her th “misfits at
nlgel Fin . "The broadest" mil ‘0! (image
tai edto attract her notice. Eyen 'Jii‘d‘ I ’Wig.
gins’s mfiled shirt? 0mm, and slim-riff Fl: :3 boot.

a

 

5-...__..__..........._..A...-........... -, ....... ..  .

won no recognition from her. The judge
“ went his pile on them boots,” and their failure,
in this instance, to "draw ” chugrined him not
a little.

As for thc “ boys.” such indifference “stumped
’cm :11! round!”

Had they but known the fierce warfare going
( n within that beautiful littlo head, perhaps

. LlilS inscnsibility to outward things would have

boon accounted for.

“ Is s: c younger than I? Is sho more beauti-
i'nl than I! Shall I encounter a succesful rival
u. the very outset? Tho ‘ Angel of Hard Luck,’
i..=d ‘ Angel’s Find ’! H’m l”

Mrs. Belli Seal’ord compressed hcr red lips: 1bo
delicate color faded from her rouudcd cheeks;
her black eyes snapped with an ominous fire. In
this mood she was beautiful still, yet with n.
cruel sort of beauty. And, come to think, ther
was something cat-like in the daintincss with
which she picked her way along the road.

As she approached the buildings which con-
stituted the Angel‘s Lode property, she ills-
tinguishod through the gut ering gloom tho
mining works proper and an unpretentious yot
comfortable cabin a little removed from tho
bustle of money-getting.

Here all was beauty and perfume and peace.

“Flowers and trailing vines!" mused Mrs.
Seaford, her heart sinking cold, then leaping all
shame in her breast. “ She is nota mountain
sava e, for she has neatness and taste. All tho
liars features are hidden beneath a mantle
of verdure. She has made his home aparadise,
in spite of her men er means. What IS she like
personally? Hark!

Her ear caught a. sound that caused her to
stiflahrup 1y.

untrained voice, yet as clear and sweet as
a silver bell. The melody must have been im-
provised. There were no words: only a succes-
sion of rich notes, as a. bird might have sung.

How smoothly the varying cadences flowed
into one another !—how the rippled like happy
lau hterl—how the sun into languishing
pat os, only to swe into a burst of triumphant
exultation!

Mrs. Seaford stood with clenched hands and
set teeth, and grew as cold as ice.

“ That woman is a enius,” she said, hoarsely;
“and she is happy. she happy in love? s
she singing to him 1’"

Stan. t ' y she crept forward. Both door and
window stood open. A tallow dip burning in
the room discloseda. woman ranging on adresser
dishes which she had iiust finished washing.

At sight of her Bel a Seaford turned Sick at
heart.

“ Ten years younger than I, and— Ah 1”

She could not brin herself to admit, even to
herself, that her riva was more beautiful.

“She is alone,” mused the envious woman.
“This is my mportunity to speak to her. I
must see what 9 is like. She may be uncouth
and slangy for all her—"

She avoided the name of beauty.

“I beg your pardon. Will you think me
intrusive, to come to you a perfect stranger,
without introduction? But everything is so
strange, and I felt so lonesome, and indeed a
little timid, in a hotel without another woman
in it—even the cook and chambermaii il’ such
[name is appropriate) 8. Chinaman! heard
you spoken of, and. thought that I must make
your acquaintance before I slept, even at the
ri k of coming out alone at so unseemly an hour.
And then I have not yet thanked Mr. Carleton
for rescuing me from a situation of terrible
danger. Oh! I was so frightened that I lost all
praence of mind—oven to seeming remiss in
courtesy, I am afraid.

“May I present myself? I am Mrs. Seaford,
of  Francisco. And you are— arle-
ton.

Such was Bella Seaford’s apology and self-in-
troduction.

. Lilian Amberleigh, whose heart at that mo-
ment went out to all the world in a. glad tender-
ness which she would have been at a loss to ex-

lain, was not disposed to carp at any slight
deviation from social forms, even if the code of
mountain eti uette had been farmore stringent
graham“ wcln'ch actually obtains m the free

es

She first started at the sound of a strange
voice: then smiled a enial welcome, upon seeing
the most beautiful dy she remembered ever
to have met, only excepting her long lost and
tenderly mourned mother; and, last, flamed
sccarllet from chin to temple at being called Mrs.

ar eton.

“I am very glad that you came, Mrs. Sea-
ford,” she said. shimmering a little with embar-
rassment. “ Stran‘geis do not stand on ceremony
here. But you mistake in supposin me 9. mar-
riod woman. I keep house for my rather.”

How famously blusbin became her style of
beauty! Bella Seaford ated her for that, as
Well as for other things, which. indeed, seemed
to multipl , the more she saw of her.

flown-e ed her manner! bow pure her so-
cent! :From where she stood. Bella Seaford
could see books and magazines. So she had
been under William Carleton’s tutelage? Nature

a Ind "sutured a rich soil for his seeds‘of in-

 

_ The “Gentleman from Pike.

.1‘5

 

“Oh! I beg your pardon, Miss Carleton,”

said her guest. “ Mr. Carleton is your brother, ,

then?”

Again Lilian Amberleigh’s cheek flushed crim-
son.

“ Not my real brother,” she corrected;
“though he has been that, and father and
mother to me as well, ever since I lost my own
deur momma, almost in my bub hood.”

A tender humidity dimmed er 03/93. and a
pathetic cadence crept into her vouc. The
memory of her mother always cvokcd these
tokens of loving regret.

"But my name is Lilian Amberlcigh," she
pursued, her sunny nature rcassorting itself iii-
stantly. “ Pray como l'l and be scaled. I beg
your pardon for neglecting to invite you more
promptly. Believe me, it was not from lack of
cordialii .”

No! clla Sanford would not accept even the
rift-r of a chair from the rival she already bated
with an intensity beyond words, though her
smiling face gavo no token of the bitterness it
muske' .

“ Thank you, I will sit down just here, if you
please,” she said, with the swretest suavit , se-
ccting a rustic bench that surrounds the
trunk of a mountain pine. “I have been housed
all my life. it is a treat to me to be out of
doors in this wonderful countr . Everything
is so strange, and at so delig tful. But one
would not suppose t at the wilderness could be
made so like a paradise as this spot, 'ust here.”

It had been a labor of love to Li 'an. Now,
as her eye roved over the work of her own
hands, as revealed in the mellow moonlight, her
heart swelled, remembering for whose pleasure
it had all been done.

But need we follow their conversation in de-
tail? Bella. Seaford sat and chatted pleasantly,
to all outward seeming, with this gir whom na-
ture had so richly dowered, while every word,
every gesture, every tone was a separate stab.
She noted every tremor of the delicate 1i ,
every flush of the sensitive cheek, every brig t-
oning of the Eye, every tender modulation of
the voice, as A 6 led her to talk of her guar-

dian.

“ She loves him! 0h! h0w I hate her for it!
t.‘ikndlgoes he love her? I will crush her, if he

oes

Those were her thoughts when she bade
Lilian Amberleigh—ah! how unsuspecting!—
good-night. But the forms of politeness were
on her 11 s, the cadences of friendliness in her
voice. nly when she got away out of sight

and hearing did her true feeling burst its way »

into speech.
She had declined Lilian’s offer to scam ny
her back to her hotel. She did ,not go here

directly. She felt that she could not pass under.

human observation, until she had battled with
the flends of hatred and (1 air. ' They crowded
upon her so fiercely that s 8 must yield them
sway for a little time at least.

So she turned from the path. She had
enough physical courage, little as she was, to
feel no personal fear. And there in the forest
solitude she gave the rein to her emotions.

Then her beauty was transformed Her pas-
sion convulsed face, not to consider "v a reckless
words that forced their way from her lips in
hoarse mutterings and sharp, almost save. 9,
cries, showedthat she was a wicked and as-
perate woman.

“To win him from her, if I can—to crush
her, if I fail !—that is the task before me!” she
muttered. “ And I will do itl—I will do it! I
will stop at nothing! She has robbed me.
but reclaim my own. Let her look to herself!

“Oh, my darling! I have loved you always!
And to find you thus! But you must return to
me!—you shall return!”

The battle was at his hi ht .when she heard
approaching footsteps.
g ade just before her. She acted on the impulse
of the moment advanced, and sunk on her
knees at his feet.

She had put her destiny to the touch. What
would be t e decree of fate?

 

CHAPTER XXI.
norm onusnnn ro mm.

WHEN our hero left his home with a. vague
excuse, it was with a mind almost as much per-
turbed as that of the girl from whose ‘resence
he went. What was this revelation t at bad
so suddenly burst upon him? The tenderest af-
fection had always existed between him, and
his fair charge. and heretofore its manifests-
tion had been as free as that bntween any
thér and sister. But now— He scarcely dared
face the truth! .

Was all the delightful past to belchangedl

Should he lose his little sister? What would‘

take her lace? .
He askgd the nestion with a. vague sense of

gin. The old reedom lost, what would they.

to each other? . .
Eor the first time in his life hassbed him-

self:— ,
“' What does tha world say of our; ltion!”
Thenhot flashes and icy chills fo owed.9.ac_h
other in quick succession from his heartto his

«trophies. and he stopped short, panting and"

e entered a. moonlit

trembling. An altogether unreasonable rags
suddenly assessed him.

“ I shou d like to see the man who dares lisp a
'syllabbyl’e—entortain a thought—to her disparage-
men

And his hand fell on the butt of his revolver.

But the unsuitableness of that means to reach
the evil, if evil there were, was patent at once;
and the keenest sense of regret succeeded his
transient anger.

“ And have I unwittin ly cxposed her to
this?” he mused. “ Her to. so position must be
corrected at once. But alas! Ishall love her, in
its accom lishment. She l-as grown a part of
in life. ow can I fear her out of it? And
w at can I say to hcr'f—how explain the neces—
sit of parting without wounding lltI‘ sense of
de icacy beyond repair?"

“Ah. how heed ass I have been! A woman
would have foreseen this fatal dilemma; hutI
have lived on from day to day, ncver perceiv-
ing that she has ceased to be a little girl, and
that a new rule must regulate her life.

“ And she, in her innocence, my little sister in
feeling, has known no other thought. But
now— ~
4 Leaving the world out of the question, could
they continue the old lii'ci Were they the same
in heart that they had been that morning? No!
—he could not but admit the change.

Their life-path had narrowed until they could
no longer walk side b side. The must walk
as one, or separate! he former a tornative did
not occur to him yet. He thought only that he
must lose her.

“.But where can she live?” he asked himself.
“ Not alone in a hotel—a child like her. Not in
a cabin by herself.

“Ah! An idea! I might get an elderly wo-
man to live with us, and so retain my darling,
and preserve the proprieties as well.”

He was in a fever of excitement over this so-
lution.

“ But where to get the cha ron?”

And an icy chill fell upon is hopes.

“I might send her to school?” be reflected.
“Young ladies attend boarding school beyond
her age. Seventeen! She would be provided
for for two or three years.”

And then:—

V ‘5 What! send her away where I could not see

her for a single hour in the twenty-four? I
could not on are such cruel privation as that.
And she would grieve, I know. ’

“No; we must not be ted. But how re-
main together? Together ”

He stop d, breathless.

“ Tuget er!”

What was the magic of that word?

Aprofuse perspiration burst from cvo pore
in his body. He stood still, trembling an pass-
ing his fingers through his hair, a trick he had
on those rare occasions when he gave way to
nervOus excitement. -

“ A . together—as one! Why not?" he asked
himse , w tb a great burst of triumphant de~
ll ht. '“ Why not!‘ Why not? WHY nor?”

6 kept repeating the question and his trem-
alous happiness augmented wi. every itera-

on.
“Surely we already love each other sufficient-
w. It isthis very love that was to part us!
by not unite us? How stupid I have been!
Wb r not unite us?”
A 1 why not units them? Was there no rea-

son?

“ Link my! blighted life with her fresh young
existence!” 9 asked. “ Oh! but- what is the use
of talking? I can never make her mine. I
know it in my heart. I cannot bind her to s—s
'iifimmalidll (lay it]: his]: as

a cover s ace w an and was
terribly shaken. ’

“ A fugitive from justice, tocontaminate her
pure life—to be her husband, the father of her
children! No! no! no!” he groomed.

Then came the agonized protest:

“But I am not guilty in the id ht of God:
011! He cannot condemn me! Be ows that
that ,momentvof madness has been stoned by
years of contrition. He knows the provocation,
the a any, the despair! It was not I? No! no!
no! 1th such a blot on my soul I could not
have been to her what I have been. Sheso
pulrte—some instinct must. have made he:- re-
vo ,

“l‘l’o! that has clouded mv life long enou h.
I will at it behind me. Twelve years! . 9
world s forgotten it. has for iven it.

He himself has voucbsofed me this c once of

ha insss. Why should DUI? I awe t it?”
Xpain he asked himself: - p
inahth‘ '" h e
p to on r econem latedtbisbri ht
panama the bigger mounted h‘is eager hops, fin-
Itll'ie man washtransflgured.

. on come answer, as if the very heavens
had placed it before him—e, wo 'qkneeling at
his feet in the moonlight! man

One moment her agonizeddace with its tear-

n eyes, all clear] defined in the flood

of moopl ht was lifted his amused his hor-

rifled Vision; then her head sunk upon hex-breast,
as if she were blighted by his stony stare

 

The man uttered not 1 sound. He drew: 
nearer. and with hand! that tremle likeness

 

 

    
    
   
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
 
  

16

The Gentleman fromeike.

 

 

 

leaves lifted her face a ain to the light, gazing
at it with such incredu ous questioning as that
with which he might look upon one returned
from the grave, and with such despair as if he
stood face to face with his doom.

The woman submitted passively, then suddenly
caught his hand and pressed it to her lips and
bosom, cr ing in an agony of piteous appeal:

“Oh, V ill!"

As if it were the coil of a se nt, he threw
off her clasp with a gasping shud er, and leaped
back. Then, with his hand to his head, he
staggered a ainst the trunk of a tree, groaning:

‘ She 1—— ive! My God!” _

A wail of despair escaped the woman’s lips,

 

and she droo d again as if beneath a. blight.
From the arknessthat surrounded the moon- I
lit glade came a faint sigh. The tension of i
jealous hatred to which the Frisco Sharp was I
wrought relaxed. He returned his pistol to its f

holster. The temptation to murder passed by ,
him for the time. He waited and watched in I
51 once.

Then, a throb of mad jealousy piercing her ,
heart, the woman threw off her despair and
rose to her feet ready to do battle for her ‘

claims.

 

CHAPTER XXII.
m woman’s APPEAL.

PEN can but faintly de ict the marked tran-
sition in Mrs. Seaford’s emeanor. She had!
fair! groveled at this man’s feet in her abject !
supp ication. Now she stood with her head .‘
thrown defiantly back, her diminutive figure
drawn to its reatest hight.

“So!” she airly hissed, “m being alive is
matter of chagrin to you. An you make little 1
elfort to conceal the fact. I fear Mr. Carleton ‘
in? forgotten the high chivalry of his earlier !
l 8.

The man did not reply to her sarcasm. He
had not et recovered from the shock of her un- ,

to appearance.

he woman continued in the same passionate 

tone:

“ One would think that the knowledge that
your soul was not indelibly stained by blood l
would come to you with a sense of relief. Has '
your hate been so implacable as to keep remorse 1
at bay?” 1

Still the man was silent, strug ling with emo- ‘
tions that com letel mastered im. This one
thou ht‘keptt robb g in his brain:

“ e !—alive I”

Yesterday he would have hailed this knowl- ,
edge with a sense of relief. But today—Ah! 
what chin e a few short hours had wrought! ,
What did er life si if to him now? {

“ Ruinl—utter ru n!” e reflected, the hightof ]
his hope on] realized by the shock with which i
it had been shed to earth. “Ruin to me, and 
—God help m darling—to her I Until this very 1
hour 1 have n blind to the love that has ,
grown day by day, in my heart; and now ithal

urst upon me like a ghmpse of heaven, only ,
that the gate should be closed in my very face!
And she—what has she donel Cou d
been made to suffer, and she, the innocent one, ;
have been spared?” ,

But the woman’s voice cut short his bitter re- .
flections. 1

Her eyes sna pod viciously. Her 11$ drew .
back with a fe a disclosure of the tee _ . Her
nostrils became inched, showinga white spot
on either side. he was the impersonation of
mad jealousy.

“But no,’ she sneered, “I am losing sight of .
a circumstance which no doubt more than 03-
sets any relief of conscience. I have seen the
lady "—throwing the venom of an adder’s sting ,
into the insult— of whose caresses my coming
will rob you—” .

But now the man was galvanized into a pm '
roxysm of passxonate life. Springing forward ,l
he towered above her'with uplifted hand and ‘
brows as black as night, like a terrible des-
tro er.

“yNota word!” he thundered—" not a word ‘
from such as you !—-or, as there is a God in
heaven—J I 4‘

.But he choked With the intensity of his pas-
sion. i
A man would have been awed by his terrible f
presence. An enraged woman knows no per- ‘
sonal fear.

“ Such as I?” she repeated.

u Ayl
name of one as pure as you are foul! I have 1
suffered much from you. You can add nothing I
to the past. ” I

It was now the woman’s turn to st 1e with .
emotion sovmlent that she could scarce y . |

“Liar! Slanderer!” she flnall burst 0315]). L
“ I defy You to the proof! Traitor to obhga- -
tions the most sacred !—defamer of her you had I
sworn to protect—the blightning of In life I owe ‘;
to our infamous misconstruction o a foolish ;
girl’s caprice! Now do you. think by this blus- ‘
ter to deter me from assertm my rights, even ‘
if they cannot be maintain w ere one is so ,
lost to honor and manhood as you? No! Iswear 

' to drag from her usurgd position this vile crea-
ur

ture who shares yo e in despite of the le ti.
vats claim art. You may hope to find a ul-

| wrecked life.

notlhave . '1‘

wark of defense inthe lax moral sentiment of
this community: butI will make the moun-
tains ring with her infamy and yours, until for
ve shame you will put her away, it' this thing
wit out shame does not slink away and hide
herself! on, you me threaten! How your
manhood has improve by association with her!
Do you knock her down when she displeases
you? Strike! Idefy you!”

For one terrible moment it seemed as if he
were indeed about to strike to the earth this
woman who dared to vilify the being he had ex-
alted abovs all others for purity and holiness.
Then he gained a sudden self-mastery; and his
whole manner changed.

His voice was husky, but its menace had
given place to deep rief. His eyes no longer
threatening, were ed upon the woman’s
white, passionate face with something between
pity and earnest entreaty. His towering frame

‘ seemed collapsed, as if years had suddenly fal-

len u n him.
“Spt'agp!u he said. “You are beside yourself.
I have been wrong. A word of explanation

! would have saved us this misunderstandin . In

a calmer moment, if not now, on will ome

justice, and in your thoughts rig t an innocent

l whom {on have wronged by suspicions as
less as t ey are cruel.

“ If you have seen her, on know that she is
scarcely more than a ch' d. I have been her
guardian—her brother, if you will. She has
earned to so call me, and regard me as such.
An hour’s converse with her would satisfy you
of this truth, in spite of your plrejudice.

“Ten years ago I received er, a little child,
from her mother’s arms, and saved her from
the flood in which that mother perished. I have
been faithful to the doomed woman’scharge.
I have learned to look upon it as a blessmg sent
by Heaven to ameliorate the bitterness of .my
I do love her as the one bright
thing in my wretched existence; but, in spite of
your passionate disparagement, you know me
well enou h to need no assurance that I am in—
capable of betrayin such innocence.

‘That is my exp nation. Listen to it, look
at the child horse f, and you cannot resist its
truth. Convinced, you have not the heart to
do such deadly injury to one who has never
harmed you.”

His changed manner constrained the woman’s
attention. She we‘ hed ever word as it fell
fromhislips. She lieved h Perhaps she
had never really thought evil of the girl after
seein her 0 n countenance. bearing on its up-
lif brow t e seal of innocence.

Now a change came over her. The mad fire
of Jealousy was eliminated from her .boun
blood. Renewal hope came to her hke a coo ,
balm-laden breeze. _

That the girl loved him she still believed.
Her woman’s instinct clung to this conv1ction.
But if be regarded her as a childi—if he loved
her as a daughter, or as a sister?

A new impulse caused her pulses to leap. The
blood driven from her face by passion, returned
in a warm glow. The tense muscles relaxed.
he hard lines flowed into curves of grace and
softness. The woman was transformed, trans-

! She was beautiful again!
d rgidng this sudden change, the man shud-
e

“The came an i and devil!” be reflected,
bitterly. “ Ah! ow the one lured me that the
other mi ht destroy! But I am proof against
her who cries now. I have seen the ensan-

‘ guined claws of the siren l”

But the woman knew nothing of what was
passing in the man’s thoughts. She gave her-
self up to the accomplishment of an object on
which her whole heart was set.

The sinuous motions of her body were like

E the graceful flexures of a serpent. Her voice

glided into sweet, wooing cadences, gentle de-
precation curbing an eager lon 'ng. Ah! hers
was the cunning to sway men’ earts!

“I believe you,” she said. “I have been
hasty. I did not weigh my words. 0h! forgive
me! It is not the first time that my impulsive-
ness has bred misunderstanding and dissension
between us. But believe me,i I have yielded
to blind passion and given myself up to desper-
ate action as well as reckless speech, I have
always been goaded by In love for you!”

The Gentleman from P1 e could not repress a
shudder of disgust. He raised his hand With a
motion to restrain her, but her importumty

Let not your polluted lips sully the  pressed

on.
“No! hear me out!” she pleaded. “ I know
our harsh judgment, and admit the seeming
ustiflcation of appearances. But were. she
alive your mother could testify—"

” l5091” cried the other, hoarsely, his frame
eonvulsed with a spasm of pain—“ you must not
speak of her !”

The re also of his manner more than his
words to upon the woman like the chill of an
icy wind: but she rallied, and went on:

“Oh! Will you notlisteni Have all the ears
not turned the e of our resentment? , too,
have suflered! y 0d! what have I not
suffered? Were not repudiation punishment
bitter enough where the t is real? What,
then, is it to hava rested 1 these years under
uniust condemnation! I wear to you WW. as

 

I would have proved to you then, but for your
impetuosit , that I am an innocent, an injured
woman! e were victims in common of one
man’s base treachery! Why did you prejudge
me! Why did you give me no chance for se f-
vindicationl After all these ears, what would
have been easy then isnow, a as! almost a hope-
less task.” _

But for the ringing passwn of her voice they
mi ht have heard a sound proceeding from the
dnr uses that surrounded their little spot of
moonlight.

Throughout this interview the Frisco Shara
had listened with an agitation which woul
have sur rised those familiar with, his wanted
im ertur able nonchalance.

t was remarkable that both these men,
usually so im passive, v. ere stirred to their souls
centers when brought under the influence of
this woman. Though the result was nearly the
same, yet the causes of their impassivity were
diametrically o posed. One lide in a fortress
of sand into which the missiles of the world sunk
and smothered, leaving no trace; the other re~
sented a wall of granite against which t ey
were shattered or glanced harmlessly aside.
The defense of one was an inert apathy—of the
other an indomitable will. Now this woman
awoke passions that burst throu h the will of
the one, and scattered to the win 5 the fatalistic
indifference of the. other. ‘

Again and again the Frisco Sharp was so
wrou ht upon that he could scarcely resist the
im 11 se to interrupt the interview. Heretofore
it ad been in the woman’s behalf; but when
she declared that the had both been victims of
another’s treachery, e flushed scarlet and mut-

tered:

“What eifrontery! And she has seen and re-
cognized me almost within the hour! I’ll not
be her scapegoat! I will denounce her if he is
weak enough to yield the evidence of his own
Senses to her blandishments!”

But the Gentleman from Pike was not weak.
He had himself well in band now. The iron of
his nature came to the surface—its hardness, its
immutability. His voice was not harsh, but
immovably firm.

“ Your words are futile," he said. “Daily,
almost hourly, since that fatal time I have re-
viewed my judgment onlyto approve its us-
tice. I was infatuated before; awaken to
reason at last. Do not add to the mountain of
deceit by useless falsehood now. The hateful
past is dead; let us bury it out of sight and re-

collection. Go your way and leave me in
ace

p6T0 this dispassionate et inflexible decision
the woman listened brea essly, with diliending

eyes and face whitening with terror.
“Stop! Stop!” she cried casting herself on
her knees again, and extending her armsin su
lication. See Will !—I am at your feet! 0 l
'sten to me! All these years I have ke t on
loving you, not asking for hope! A mont 1E0
Ilearned that you had been seen here in e
mountains. Only so much. Not a word about
you. I did not know how I might find you. I
asked only the opportunity to come face to face
with you once more. I flew to you. When he
came to me in the guise of a common high-
wa man, I was t understruck. But my
vai protected me. He did not recog-
nize me. You came next. I could scarce-
lfy support the thrill of deli ht and the agony of
ear inspired by the sight 0 you. You followed
him. I have heard the story of that meetin .
Then you came back to me. Oh! that ride,
unknown! I touched your foot with mine so
ently that you did not perceive it! I brocthed
he air that you breathed! I gazed upon you
unchided! Then you helped me from the coach
and in hand touched yours! I thought I should
die! ow did I restrain the impulse to tear
aside my veil and cast myself at your feet then
and there! Ah! I dared not make myself
known, lest my paradise should topple in ruins
about In head! I was unspeakany happy and
unuttera ly wretched! It was heaven and hell
at the same moment! New I have revealed
myself. You can lift me to a delirium of help-
iness with a word! Do not dash me to t e
epths of despair! Hear me! I love you! I
have always loved you! Never for 'a moment
has my heart-

“ A—A—A—Afil”

It was an indescribable , so full of blended
de air, and fury.“ In her a andon the woman
ha clasped_the ees of the man to whom she
made her Wild a peal in words that followed
each other wish i htning rapidity; and he had
shaken her off wit a shudder of repulsion. .

In that she read the death of her hopes more
clearly than any form of words could have con-
veyed ityand with that maniac cry she fell for-
ward on her face.

Was she unconscious? No; for she clutched
the ground with her hands, and every drawn
breath was an audible gasp, while every exha-
lation was a wailing moan.

It was terrible to look at her. It seemed as if
that stormy spirit would shake the frail body to
rum. '

But the man made no eflort to calm her. He
did not lift her up. Instead, he who had‘never
been tingsllaut to woman turned and rushed

I

 

 

hfi   s. w .. .. .

 

I

The Gentleman from Pike.

17

 

 

from til: spot, leaving her there alone, as he
su se .

e abandonment was cruel, on the surface—
unworthy of him, one would have said. But he
knew her well. He believed that this was her
last appeal.

“She is insincere to the core,” he said to him-
self. “ When she sees that I am not to be de-
ceived by any of her arts, she will get up and
return to her hotel."

He could not bring himself to touch her. He
fled her hated presence.

But be deceived himself. For once. at least,
the woman was in earnest. As she realized that
he was indeed leaving her, she half rose, extend-
ed her arms toward his figure disappearing in
theshadows, uttered a faint cry, and sunk again
to the ground unconscious.

Then from his hiding came forth the Frisco
Sharp. He knelt and ifted her in his arms,
and, while he kissed her still, white face,

ured forth a torrent of endearing epithets ad—
gessed to her, and wrathfnl denunciations hurl-
ed after the man who had spurned her entrea-
ties and abandoned her in a swoon.

 

CHAPTER XXIII.
A HUMAN TIGRESS.

IN the solitude of the moonlit gladehthe Fris-
co Sharp held in his arms the unconscious form
of the woman whose beaut and' Wickedness
had already brought much 0 evil into his life,
and was destined to sink him to even lower
do the of iniquity. _ .

gain and again he  his lips to her un~
responsive ones, unti his impassioned kisses
seemed to call her back to life.

She opened her eyes. His face, as be bent
over her, was in shadow, so that she did not

'ze it at first. .

With a cry of ecstasy she clasped him about
the neck.

‘»‘ Oh! Will! Will my darling!” she cried.

. “ Your heart has yielded! My love has won!
Oh! had you known all, you would never have
left me so cruelly! But, perish the past! Letus
live and love in the fu‘urel My darling! My
darling! My darling 1”

Between each reiterated endearment she
Pressed a burning kiss upon the lips of the man
who held her in his arms.

Receiving by error that which _he had craved,
and which would have been priceless to him

otherwise, the Frisco Sharp shuddered.

“ Strip}! stop I” he stammered, hoarsely. “ You

are m 'ng a mistake!”

At the sound of that voice, so diflerent from
what she ex ted, she tore herself from him
with a cry 0 terror, scrambled to her feet, and
stood before him trembling and panting.

ning on his knees, he turned his white
face up to the moonlight, letting its agony

plead for him.
“What is the meanin of this?" panted the
woman. “ Why are you ere? Where is—”

But the question died on her lips.

“What does it mean?” repeated the Frisco
Shin-E. “ It means that he who was neVer
wort y of your love has spurned you and de-
serted you again—once, dead as he su posed;
now, swooned in this deserted spot! by am
I here? The old reason—because I love you!
Had I known that on recovering consciousness
you would mistake me for him, believe me, I
would have spared you and myself I

“He has gone—gone?” repeated the woman,
in a wailin tone.

“ To her rom whom your coming has se ara-
ted him l” said the Frisco Sharp, malicious y.

The woman shuddered.

“And at you will continue to love him!”
pursuedt a man with jealous bitterness.

"No!" cried Mrs. Seaford, with a. sudden
burst of fury. “You think too meauly of me.
I shall hate him; and her—her—I Will crush
her I”

She looked like a beautiful demon, as she
clenched her hands and stamped her foot.

“Love him 1” she went on, with increasing

on. “I have loved him too well already.

but love bro ht me here into the Wilderness

after him, andufaid me a suppliant at his feet.

Now he shall see to what hate will prompt me!

And on. shall help me. I will give you ample
oppor unity to glut your jealous hatred.”

‘Howl”

“How? B avenging the insult he has put
upon .me. y annihilating him! He denied
$031: heart; do you bring me his heart’s

04
h Tgc Frisco Sharp shuddered and shook his

as . .

“You know that I cannot raise my hand
against his life,” he said, gloomily.

“ What?” cried the woman, ferociousl .

“ His life must be ever sacred to me.

“Coward !”

“ No; you know that I am not that. . Have I
not stood before his pistol Without flinching?
You have seen that." _ r

“ Then you refuse to do my bidding?”

“ I cannot. in this.”

“Then, out upon you! There are others who
have not such fine scruples. But remember—
. £41!!!"ch we the first thin; layer asked!

. I

 

After what I have suffered throu rh you, your
refusal comes with an ill grace. ut for your
presence Imight have won even now. Why
are you here? Go! and never dare to obtrude
yourself upon me again!”

She turned with royal scorn.

The Frisco Shar detained her, as abject a
suppliant as she ha been to that other.

“Stop! stop!” he cried. . “Anything but his
life. Put my love to the test; but not that.
You know why I cannot strike. Anything
short of that.”

She turned, and faced hiui again.

“ I have it i” s e cried; and nowher face was
terrible in its smile of exultant malignity. “ I
have it! I have it!"

She struck her hands together, and laughed
aloud. Her eyes gleamed with merciless cruelty.

“ You shal drop a rarer morsel on my palate
than his death! Anything but that, you said.
I will take you at your word. 1 had almost
forgotten the other art of my revenge. She
must be crushed! oath! death! She shall
lire! Ha! ha! Death brings peace. Only life
can retract und in anguish!

“ ome! come!’ s e cried, suddenly, seizing
him by the shoulder, as if eager to lose no time
in Putting her sche me into execution. “I can
tel you as we go along.”

Yielding to her impetuosity, the Frisco Sharp
was atonce fascinated and repelled by her
{flawless malignity, her almost ferocious exul—

ion.

“ What is she meditating against Lilian Am-
berloi hi" he asked himself, and his heart sunk
with t e thought that he was to be made the
instrument of her revenge.

“Live? Yes, she shall live!” declared the
excited woman. “She has robbed me of all
my soul craved, and left me a life of despair.
I will re ay her in kind. She shall live to pray
for the eath that is denied her! I have seen
her. I have read her nature. She is high-
niinded; she is sensitive to a degree. She is
One of all others to writhe beneath the tor-
ture that I shall put upon her—through you!
Ha! ha! My reven 8 will strike him deeper
than a hundred deat s! He has dared to love
her! Well, the dearer she is to him, the more
will it wriii his heart 1”

Jules St. uburn could endure no more.

“ What is it on require of me?” he asked.

“What do require?” repeated Mrs. Sea-
ford, stop in and drawing a deep breath, so
that her yseemed to dilate, gathering its
forces to launch forth her purpose of hate!
“ This :—that yawcrush her beneath a moun-
tain of shame! Go! desolate all that is beauti-
ful; desecrate all that is sacred; leave despair
and self-loathing in the place of hope and happi-
ness, until she shudders at the sight of man
and dgpbts the justice of God! That is my re-
venge

Her eyes littered; her cheeks flamed; her
white teeth g earned. She looked like a beauti-
ful fiend!

The Frisco Sharp drew back in horror.

“My God!” he cried. “Do you know what
you are asking?”

“ Do I know! Do I not know? I am asking
heaven for myself and hell for her I hate more
bitterly than death 1”

“Stop! stop! you cannot be a woman and
meditate such cruelty against one of your own
sex.

“You mistake.
man!”

“ But—but—you cannot know—”

“ Butl—butl Is this your pledge? You said
anything but his life. gave him life. Ha!
ha! a generous concession! He will thank me,
no doubt, when he comes to know. But away
with obstacles! There is room for no ‘buts’
in the case. I demand unhesitating obedience
to my nil! !”

" One moment. You do not know. She
saved my life at the peril of her own. When I
brought the scourge, and others fled, she nursed
me day and night. Can I re- ay her devotion
with such a blow as this? 0! no! My God!
you cannot ask this of me!” ,

The woman stood mute wrestling With e'PO'
tions that choked her. When she found voice,
it was hoarse and low with intensity of passion.

“ So you too love her?" she said.

Then she choked again, and she seemed about

I can—because I am a wo-

to spring upon and rend with her nails this

man who had added the last straw of insult by
going Over to her rival.

“ No,” re lied the Frisco Sharp. “ I have but
one love. ut is it strange that 1 should hesitate
to repay with such base treachery one to whom
I owe so much of gratitude?”

“ I grant you the argument.
for me that you refuse.” _

And without looking at him, the woman
turned and walked away.

In that he saw the death of his hopes. Could
he give her up so? She was the only bein he
had ever craved. The very intensity 0 her

It is enough

lpassion, the greatness of her hate, fascinated !

“ Stop a, stop 1” he cried. “ I cannot let you go

like this.
The woman s fled, looked into his face, and
laughed: then. I! out a wool, walked, on.

 

“If I consent?" he asked, still keeping pace
with her. .

At that she whirled round and clutched his
arm, fiercely.

“lfyou consmt !" she cried; but the rush of
passion evoked by the contemplation of that
contin ency suffocated her, and she broke oil.

“ If so renounce all manhood—if I sink my
soul in infamy un aralleled—if I do this thing
at which the vi est wretch in onder camp
would shudder, repaying such a ebt in such a
way—what will it profit me to be the instrument
of your revenge?”

“If you consent " repeated the woman, her
eyes glittering, herhreast heavin ——if yougive
to my soul this sweet morsel whic I crave more
than life, more than lovel—V'hen this is done
come to me and ask anything in returul—any-
thingl—anything!”

“ Angthmg?” repeated the man, staggered by
the hope that her words held forth.

“ Yes! an thing under Heaven i”

Jules St. uburn could scarcely believe that
that which he had always craved was at last
within his ver grasp.

"Do not tr' c with me," he said, in a choking
voice. “ You know what I will ask."

“ es! yes!” she replied, ea erly.

“And you will grant me ' 7 Remember,
you love—”

“I hate him 1"

“But if I pay this price,” said the Frisco
Sharp, shuddering at the thought, “ there must
be no uncertainty about my recompense. Swear
that you will fulfill your part of the agree-
ment.

The woman laughed as she caught him by
both arms.

“It will be unnecessary,” she said. “My
heart will keep me to the pledge. Do we not
love those who bring us great happiness? Con-
sent! consent! and you shall have an earnest of
mg love now!”

he shook him in her impatience, and seemed
to need but a word to prompt her to embrace
im.

The man ew giddy. He saw only the
Witching smi e of the siren—her eyes beaming
upon him as they had once before when they
wooed himto madness in the past. He heard
only her voice attuned to the cadences of tender
import unity, as she reiterated:

‘ Consent! consent! consent!”

“ God help me!” he muttered.

Then he caught her to his heart and covered
her face with urning kisses.

“Promise! promise!” she urged, still with-
holding her lips from him. .

l “ I’do!" he replied. “I give my soul for your
ove!

Then her arms closed about his neck, and her
lips responded to his thirsting love.

“Go! go!” she said. "Let that be your in-
spiration l” '

And with tender, pleading mercy driven from
his heart by a savage, exultant ssion, the
man_staggered blindly away on iniquitous

mission.
h God help the innocent victim of this tigres’s
ate!

a

 

CHAPTER XXIV.

“now wxni. 1r nun?”

So he who had scorned all fear now fled
through the night like an arrant coward—fled
without daring to look round! Ah! but there
is that which cannot be met by hardihood. Fate
had dealt him a blow which he could neither
return nor withst-nd.

A u an he might meet with a man’s weapons;
but how still a. woman’s tongue?

Bella Seaford’s beaut would win for her
chain ions; and from t am the innocent 8E2;
woul meet the covert sneer, the thinly ms
insolence which she would not understand at
first, but which would tend her heart when she
knew its significance. Their foul tongues would
use her sacred name to point the jest whosscon-
tact was like the touch of the tarantula.

The thought of this wrung Carleton’s soul with
angmsh, w ile it roused all that was most terri-
ble in his nature.

“ One thing is inevitable l” he grated between
his set teeth—“I shall have to weed out this
town! And I’ll do it, by the everhving God i”

But then be broke down utterly at the thought.

“ All this will not save my darhng one pang!”

And the s' rong man was shaken by sobs.

Meanwlii'e the siren e. excitement that had
swayed Llle Amber eigh’s heart had in (-
measure expended itself. Mrs. Seaford’s visit.
too, had been a diversicn. It was an unusual
break in the routine of her life: and the antici-
pale of detailing the incident to her
gun n in some .degree masked a s 0 nor-
vousness with which she looked forw to his

return.

Wheu_the clock struck nine she began to wont
der at hisdelay. Ten found her pole with vs no
foreboding. Again and again she went out nto
the darkness to look and listen. The voices of
the night had never before so impressed her with
a sense of solitude. .

She could see the twinkl lights of the

ramp. and while she listened, t e yell of so”

W1.._.,,

:——-—-~.—.:—. . m

.  ":1- ,.

“a... w

w fi.~.‘:.

't" :" H‘s-f.“ ..-_s 11.; ‘z

I: wear”? v.._.__. 5,. .,

“18

a”. ..‘. _...;....._,‘

Tubman: hesdcnthotsblo.

The Gentleman from Pike.

 

miner who had “broke loose,” came to her on
the ni ht wind. These tokens of man alone
marrc the awe-inspiring vastness of mountain
and sky.

Eleven o’clock—twelve o’clock! The girl
walked-about incessan;iy, wringing her ha ds
and sobbfn with fear. A thousand terrible

' conjectures limited her distraught brain.

In that wild country death b violence was a
thing of daily occurrence, only ri'owliiginier-
est from tho standing of the man killed. Hail
those terrible men— She could not finish the
question. ‘

At last there came a footi’all. She rushed out
of the house, which she had entered scarcely a.
moment before. Then, for the first time in her
life, she was appalled by the darkness. S ‘6
could not see the pcrecn approaching. Her un-
strung nerves thrilled wit asense of personal

fear.

“ Will! Will I” she called shrilly, like a fright-
ened child.‘ .

“Lillie, it is I,” came the assurance of the
loved voice.

Then, witha cry that thrilled through and
through him, she sprung forward, [.recupimting
herself into his arms and hiding her face in his
breast, there to sob hysterically and cling to him
trembling a creature formed for love'nnd pro-
tection—than which, what could appeal more
directly to his strong, chivalrous nature? .

His arms closed about her. He was conscious
of a wild defiance of earth and heaven toisnatch
her from him. It was a moment fraught with
danger. Burning words of~passion crowded to
his hps with the mad impetuosity of ravenous
wolves. Once they passedthat barrier, they
could never be recalled. Knowing what he
knew, those words would be a more deadly
wound, a more treacherous assault, than if he
were to draw the bowie-knife from his belt
and bury it to the hilt in her trusting bosom!

His fancy pictured her face—its wondering
incredulity, its sci-rowing, questioning reproacn,
when she should come to know the circum
stances under which he had made the avowal of

‘ his love. He shrunk shudderineg from the spec-

:‘iucle. It sobered him as nothing else could have
one.

With a mighty effort be attuned his voice to
such tendernessas he had a right to show her,
and said :—

“ lily little darling! Has she worried over
brother Will’s absence?”

The words almost choked him. His soul rose
in riotous rebellion. He was not her brother!
He could not endure even this conventional use
of the term.

Her reply showed'that, if in the early art of
the evening her virgin breast had been rtled
by the springing of a new vague conscious-
ness. the anxieties of the later hours had again
vailed it. at least for the time. She was his
little sister Lillie, as she said :—

“Ob, where have you been? How could ou
leave me sol I have nearly died of fright. b!
you are cruel—cruel!”

The man read the Significance of that almost
petulant cry. and with a strange mingling of
gratitude and sin. said to his heart:—

“Thank Go 1 I was mistaken. She, at least,
will bespared this a ny. That lightens my
load by more than ha f.”

And yet he could almost have wished that she
had loved him—a little, only a littlel-other
than 3 a brother! '

He roked her hair with a fond. reverent
touch, soothing her ently, but evading an ex-
planation, until she im rtuned him directly.

“Where have you n all this time?” she
asked, raising to his face with an injured air her
eyes yet tear-wet, like flowers With the dew
upon hem.

A gentle egravity came into his face and voice,
as he repli :—

“I have cares, dear, which I cannot share
with you; but, believe me, I would not heed-
kmly cause you annety.”

Quick rem orse. s rungu: in her gentle heart.

“Oh, I know!" 5 9 one , throwmg her arms
about him. “Forgive me: I have pained you.”

Then a jealous impatience of this mysterious
something which had ever stood between them
seiasd her. and acting on the impulse, she ap-
realed to him at once.

“But Will, tell me! Why have you always
kept it from me? Are you not sure of my love?
Don’t you want my sympathy? I have heard
all about your meeting with—~with—the man
they callt e Frisco harp. There was a lady
here. just after you went away. She came
partly to thank you, and partly to make my ac-
quaintance, as the only other woman in the
cam . she said: and told me all about it. Oh,
Wil ! you can’t know how it has pained me to
see on suffer and be unable to console you—not
to re to say a word for fear of wounding you
—-to know that there is something always be-
tween us, shutting me out from full sympathy
with you! Don’t think that I am a child any
longer. Tell me all about it, won’t you—won’t
you, Will?

They were in the housga now. The alarm
seated and the girl standingI besidehis chair. At
‘herurnest a he bro ed0wn completely
What she

 

said, all unconsciously, went home to him with
such terrible force.

She was no longer a child. There was a
heaven of delight and a hell of pain in the reflec-
tion. And, ahl how fatal was that something,
which, she said, standing between them, caused
her ain! Would it produce a keener pain if
she now?” _

The man was shaken with anguish that he
could not subdue.

The girl was terrified. She had never seen
him give way like this.

She flung her arms about his neck. She tried
to raise his head upon her bosom. And her
piteous quavering viice walled:

“Will! Willl Oh! what liaveIdonel Don't

've way so!

g1 Oh, Willl
Willl Will!”
She sunk upon her knees at his side and hid

her face in her hands, distracted with pain and
fear.

You frighten me!

The man mastered himself with a su rhuman
eflort. The sudden calm that his wi imposed
showed his great strength.

“ Hush l” he said, lifting her up. “ I have

been miserably weakto give way like this in
your presence. It is over now. See—I am
com sod.”

“ es, yes,” she said, ga  into his face
through her tears; “but, oh, ill! your calm-
ness is almost as terrible asyouremotionl I am
halt afraid of you, you look so stranger i”

bAnd she clung to him very like a frightened
c iid. ‘

“There! there! dear,” he said. “Trust me to
tell you all that it is wise for you to know. .It
would be cruel to cloud your young life With
shadows out of mine. And now you must calm
yourself and go to rest.”

She obeyed him, but plainly with an aching
heart. .

Carleton sought his own room, not to sleep,
but to renew the battle; and through the silent
watches of the night he asked himself the ques-
tion:

“ Where will it end?" .

For two days he hovered near his darling.
Then, as there was no open demonstration of
hostility from her enemy, he began to think less
of personal danger to her and more of the false
position in which she stood.

This drove him him to melancholy meditation
in the mountain solitudes.

411! had lie but known the fatal opportunity
he was thus giving for a wrong of which he
never dreamed.

But danger threatened him as well; for, while
he wandered on the brink of a precipice. be de-
tected a. slight sound, and turned just in time to
avoid a treacherous knife-thrust from one of
two men who threw themselves upon him and
bore him totlie ground.

Taken unawares, he was strugglin for his
life against two determined focsl I he fell,
who would protect his darling? That thought
nerved his arm!

CHAPTER XXV.
WOMAN 'ro WOMAN.

THAN that of Jules St. Auburn, never was
the breast of man perturbed by a flercer battle
of conflicting emotions. After that mad-mo-
ment when the warm kisses of the-ten: tress
drove every other thought, all ruth'and a con-
science, from his min», he stood face to face
with the enqnnity of the deed her jealous malice
had asked of him. I

Meanwhile, alter two days of torturing sus-
pense. a woman’s im atience could endure no
more, and Bella Sea 0rd resolved to seek the
Frisco Sharp and learn the reason of his mac-
tivit .

Asyshe expected, she found him skulking in
the nei hborhood of Lilian’s home.

Anot er he might easily have eluded: but
knowing that she came in quest of him, he dis-
covered himelf.

She was amazed at the change in him that
those two da 5 had made. He was haggard and
wild-eyed. is voice sounded sepulchral, as he
said :— ‘ I

“You see how congenial a task you have

‘ven me. The devil of in nature is not so

ully developed as you may ave thought. But

what with the liquor I have drank and the
thoughts I have cultivated during these two
days and nights of sleepless. conflict, I am
making rapid strides in the direction of utter
ruthlessnese, utter infamy i”

“Bah! Do you spend your time in moral-
izingl What have you done in thesetwo days?”

‘ ‘ Nothing l”

“ Nothing’e”

“ Utterly nothing!”

“Do you intend to do anything?” ‘

“LI ’ii’itendito fulfill myvengagement to the
e r.

“Rave on lacked o rtuni safari”

“ Not together.” ppo ty

“ Then, what are you waiting for?”

“ I am not yet quite brutalized, you see: I am

at hauntei by the vision of this woman facing
the lagne for me, astrauger.”

“ ules St. Auburn, you are trifling with incl”

~ “ You will not say so tomorrow.”

“to-ml"

“ i shall have damned myself to all eternity
by that time!”

“ You have resolved to act-—"

“ To-night.”

“ Without fail?”

“Unless you relent in your purpose.”

A wave of scorn and bitter hatred swept over
the woman’s face.

The man smiled cynically.

“ I will relent—to marrow!” she said,.signifl-
cantly. “Meanwhile, I have heard enough for
to—day. I can now live on anticipation! You
have provided me with the ford l crave; I will
return the compliment to~morruw J”

She bent a fascinating smile upon him.

In an in itant he was at her feet. She extend-
ed both her hands. He clas d thém and
pressed them to his face and ips, while his
whole form trembled.

A moment alterwurd she was gone. Now a
wild elation took possession of her.

“ 'l‘o-znorrow l—-to—morrow l—to-morrow l” she
kept repeating. ‘

‘ben she was seized with a desire to see. her
victim and gloat over her by anticipation.

A little rcconnoiancc showed that Lillie was
alone in her home. But a wistful sadness now
seemed to brood over her. No more the tripping
step, the blithesome voice raised in son . She
was wondering at the change that he come
over her aidian. ,

Seeing rs. Seaford approaching, she ran to
meet her with a cordial smile and both hands
extended in welcome.

“ Oh, Mrs. Seafordl” she cried, “I’m to lad

ou’ve come! Do you know? since your val

have just be up to realize the lonesomeness
of being the on y woman in camp.”

“ So! he has said nothing to her,” mused the
woman. “ Well, I’ll repair this emission!

“ Good-morning," she said, not s eming to
.notioe Lillie’s hands. “I do not see Mr. Carle-
ton at the works, or here. at home.”

“ No,” replied Lillie, somewhat chilled. “ He
has been very busy for two or three da . ' But
won t you come in, and let me to. e your
things?

“ bank you, no. I have but a word to so ,”
was the icy re ly. “ Miss Amberleigb, w t
do you know 0 Mr. Carleton?”

‘ What do I know of him?” repeated Lillie,
in bewilderment.

“ Yes. What do you know of him i”

There was evidently war in this short, sharp,
crisp catechism. It was woman to woman.
Though in most cases absurdly apprehensive of
masculine wrath, the gentle creatures seldom
stand very much in awe of each other. Lilian
bridled instantly, at the first intimation of hos-
tilit toward her guardian. ‘ -

” adam,” she said, with a hauteur strangely
in contrast with her usual gentleness, “ I do not
understand you!” ' ‘

“ I will be more explicit, then. Do you know
that Mr. Carleton is a married man i”

“ A married man?” repeated poor Lillie,
breathlessly.

She had never dreamed of such a thing.-

“ That he has basely abandoned his lawful
wife?"

“ Madam l” -

“Do not ‘ Madam’ me. ' Wait until I get
through. If he has deceived you in this matter
you have no longer any excuse for being blind
to the truth: for I am that ’N ife I” '

“You his wife? I don’t believe you!” cried
Lillie, stoutly.

But the fact was, she did believe; end her
heart sunk like lead. here was the secret of
her uardiaii’s only too apparent distress.

“ on will have convincin evidence of the
fact before many hours,” said . Seaford.

“ If it is true," pursued Lillie “ I have no
doubt you gave him ample cause or separating
from on.”

“ 9 will waive that for a moment, if you
please, since your opinion, in your ignorance of

acts, can have no basis save prejudice," said
Mrs. Seaford, coolly, “and come to the consid-
eration of your own ition.”

“My position, ma am!”

“ Exactly—rapid of your years the sole fe-
male inmate o a entleman’s home, unanno-
tioned by even the 3 9w of relationship.”

Lillie shrunk back as if stung by this cruel in-
siuuation.

“ Have you any idea in what estimation on
are held in_ this mining camp?” pursued firs.
Seaford, With a woman s unsparin malice.

Lillie was breathless. She could but gaze
with distended eyes.

“The morals of this rude community are
very lax. Besides, fear of Mr. Carleton’sre
isentment would deter these men from showing
you an open disrespect. . But there are certain

aws o propriety that hold good the world over;

and I can assure you that the general sentiment
is that, if you are not Mr. Carleton’s wi/(e, you
ounht to be I”

Lillie shivered. _ a ‘

“Put it to a vote, and the unanimous opinion
of this or any other communit onuld be that
no woman who had not lost a] self-respect, all
shame. could hold the position on now do.”

. Now the tortured girl ‘ralli ~ ' _'
-“ Stopl”-slu cried. “You an  wk

 

“1

:1}-

N... .

 

1'9

 

Th9 @9991??? from Pike-

 

absoiutely false! The men here are rough and
unlettered, but many of them have instincts of
manhood as true as you will find among the

most cultured; and the respect which they ac- ,

cord is an acknowledgment of my true woman-
'hOOd. They know me,‘and not one of them
would believe in your jealous suspicions.”

“Ah! indeed?” sneercd the woman. “No
doubt you have your favorites among them,
ready to'champion our cause, right or wrong.
Women of your cass generally do, Ihelieve.
But this as it may be, I denounce you as a

shameless creature who has usurped 1m place; ’

and I warn you that I mean to oust you rom it,
inspite of your brazen impudencc!”

But it was not in Lilian Amberleigh’s gentle
nature to do battle with such a woman as this.
An‘assault on one that she loved would have
fired her to valiant retort; but this personal at-

‘ tack, and of such a character, wounded her so
«3!: that she could not find words for reply.
i h a hysterical choking in her throat
while she struggled to kee back the tears tha
sprung to her eyes, she sai , hoarsely:—

“ Go! go! Perhaps some time ou will know
how deeply you have wrong me, and be
3011'“ , f€r it!" t I” I d

upon you, you—you—crea are one
mrfleaford “ Dare you order me away from
51‘ own bus and’s door! If it were not for
yin’g my hands on a wretch so vile so aban-
honed, as on, I would eject you physically,
myselflv ' s' it is, I will leave you in your
shame! But do not think that I will rest under
this outrage: - If there is aspark of manhood in
this camp, I will have you mobbed and driven
' With'hqots and jeers from this roof, and from
“thel lace!”
'1‘ e infuriate woman took her departure.
The r1, com letely crushed, sunk upon the
" flooring bingan moaning as if her heart would
'lireak.’ < How long she lay thus, she knew not;
but at last she was aroused by a footstap, and
started upeinwild fear.
Were t u coming?

 

CHAPTER XXVI.
A READY soon.

A Bur it was not-an enemy that Lilian Amber-
leigh had to meet. It was only faithful Tom

’Connor.
“Oh, Tom! Tom I" she cried, seizing both his

f‘Arrah, Miss Lillie!” cried the honest Celt
much moved by her distress. “ Is it tears, I
dunno that I’m seein’ in yer broight eyes! Bad
luck do the day! phat mu ‘be‘ the m‘attherwid
yes at all, at all?”

“‘ Tom, have you seen Mr, Carletonl”

. “ Not the blessed day, Miss Lillie.”

“ He’s not at the'worksi”

V “ vy— Barrin’ yer prisence! No.”

“Can on find him i”

“ We! ,‘vma'am, I kin thro -—no less!"

"00, at once! ‘ And tell to return home
immediately. Or, wait. I' will give you a
note to delher.”

1" he wrom'a’hasty line, summoning her guar-
dish to her side. , ‘

“ Make every eflort to find him, Tom; for it
is'very important that he should this note.”

'“ Don’t ye worry Miss Lillie! 'th, av he’s
above ground, mesilf’s the b’y that’il scare ’um
up in no time fur yez!”

- ‘ And Tom O’Connor set out with allcxpedi-

tion.

"‘ What-will he the vmatther, I dunno!” mused
he. “Faith, the collect: wouldn’t be croying
fur nothin . Bad luck till the wan that brought
that‘tear 1 her eye! It‘s a God’s blessingav

'there don’t-he a funeral-whin Musther Carleton
' hears of that same!”

-~ But, ‘having sent her messen er,‘ Lillie was

disturbed bya new Berplexitv. ow could she
‘ lain her fears to or ardlanl Such'violence

h been done to her- eelin that it seemed as
“nails could never again loo him_ in the face.
JIM she buried her crimson face in her hands
inth again in inexpressible bitterness and
” umiliation.

" -As'ahe‘co'oled of! Mrs. Seaford began tosee

that feminine’hpite had carried her to a length
'~ that might prove prejudich to bar'scheme of
' revenge.

""I am afraid that I have done a very foolish
thing,” she mused. “ I have awakened her baby
fears; and the will now been their guard.
course, he 'w ‘t um. every precaution to guard
her against my malice 11’

, The'woman ground her teeth invjealous rage.

“Wh could I not restrain 'my tongue and
have em in theirwa security? Ah! but I

~ have‘ given her a'foretaste ofthemisery that
waits her! How she writhedl' 'That was lotus
jovmymenge!” _ , _
- l = washers her evil meditationswere interrupted

by a voice.
‘ *‘-‘ ’v yer rdon, ma’am !”
Mrs. aford stopped'with‘a start.
Before her stood as‘villainous-lookin animal:
"as We": seen. I But he stood ha in hand,
with the outward sign of respect; therefore'she
'Mu’yetvno cabin to fearhun.
“ Who are on!” she demanded.
“  Fin 9y,” warms-reply

' “ And what do you want i" ‘

“ To serve you, ma’am.”

“ To serve me!”

“ Waal, ye see, ma’am, I happened to be
! within earshot o’ the shebang run by the Gen-
: tleman from Pike, jest now: an’ i overheard
what ou was sayiu’ to the Angel.”

“ ell, what if you did?" a~ked Mrs. Sanford,
a little aggressively. “Do you mean to take her
; part against me?”

1 “Not mucblyl—ef the court knows herself I”
1 said the big ru n with an ugly scowl.
“ Ah!” exclaimed Mrs. Sanford, beginning to
; apprehend the situation. “ What then?”
‘Waai, ye see, ma‘am, I bain't no friend to
. the Gentleman from Pike, no way ye kin fix it!
i He played it might lko down on this hyar
‘ camp when it s rte the-handle 0’ Hard Luck,
V as may be unbe n must to ye, ma’am, bein’s as
. how ve’re fresh in these parts. ’
“ You mean in the matter of the Frisco
! Shar i”

" a’am, you kin take my left every time! I
didn’t know that you held the bower. It air
fur that leetle dodge o’ the Frisco Sharp ”

“Well, u hat of it?” asked Mrs. Seaford, wait-
ing for this man to “ show his band.”

“ Was], ye see, ma’am, I thought that you
mought have a grudge ag‘in’ the Gentleman
from Pike' an’ of so be ye want to git squar’
with him, Mose Finley’s ver man, every time.”

So the tempter brouo-ht the opportunity to
Bella Seaford s hand. “She hated the man she
had loved until now. Here was a man who had
none of Jules St. Auburn’s scruples, come tober
in the nick of time; She feared that her indis-
creet outbreak to Lilian Amberleigh might frus-
trate her whole scheme of revenge. Suppose
she could by the means of this rnfiian remind
the Gentleman from .Pike before he had an op-
portunit to protect the woman he loved?

A wic ed gleam came into her eyes. Her re-
solve wastaken instantly.

“Have you the courage and address to act at
once and efiel-tin-ely !” she asked.

Mose Finley looked puled.

“ Beggin’ yer pardon, ma’am, of so be you’d
run them keerds‘ over ag’in, an run ’em slow.
Ye see, I don’t ‘est drop to e.”

“I want no ungling in his case,” e lained
Mrs. Seaford. “ «W hat is done must be one at
once—this afternbon; and it must be so well
done that there will be nothing left for to-mor-
row. Do you understandi”

“Hum! I-savvy! It’ dro onhim,an’douse
his gliml That suits yer hum le sarvent!”

“ Do you know where to find him? Can you
do this without discovery!” ‘

“ , 9 see, ma’am, havin’ a little some-
thin’ stan in’ ag’in’ him on my own account,
I’ve kept one eye on him. an’ I reckon I’m “jest
the man what’s got the pins sot up to bowl him
out on a ten-stri e.” .

“ Can you do‘ this alone!” asked Mrs. Sanford,
who had to guess at the substance of Mose Fin~
ley's peculiarly meta horical discourse.

“I know. w ar 1 'n put my finger on the
man that km back me.”

“ All this will cost money, of course. How
much i”

“ I leave that to your generosity. ma’am.”

“ Will a hundred dollars buy your man i”

“ Wlml, I should smile I” said big Mose Fin-
ley, with a grin.

“I beg our pardon, sir!” said Mrs. Sanford,
with a an den assumption: of queenly d! ity.

 

 

She would tolerate no undue famil' y from
the tool she purchased.

“ lhut makes my head swim! She‘s the devil
an’ all!” reflected the rufllan.

Then he said, respectfully:

“ Beggm’ your pardon, ma’am! A hundred

dollars will set the ball a-rollin’, all 0. K. Ef I
don’t bag the game, I won’t come back on yo
‘ for no more."

She gave him the money; and eftera few more
“directions he took his departure.

- Bella seaford then walked on, with hervwhite
teeth set, her. eyes gleaming as cruel as the

grave.

“Death tO‘him, and undying shame to her!”
she muttered. “But if her fall were assured,
l’d let him five to enjoy it !”

' After that the dav waned, until just in the
evenln gloaming Lillie heard a footstep ap-
proach ng. She s with downcast eyes and
'cheeks aflhme, trembling. How could she fhce

him?

The man stopped in the doorway, without a
wor .

The girl looked up to see what was the mat-

ter.

Before her stood, not the one she had ex ted
gab silich conflicting emotions, but the fist-o
' H‘epwas hastly pale. His e es were. blood-
ibot 1and -g earning with a loo that terrified

er.
“ You here!” she cried, with her heart nutter.
ing in her throat.
‘ ‘Yes. I,” replied the Frisco Sharp in a voice
'that augmented her fears.

. M Yvdu'must know your danger. - Why did you
come ’ . . ' .
 mammal! ,thev‘man, in 'hollow'tones‘,
“‘ i0 W3 11°11 “0 you and to nay-alt!"

\

 

' yez!

(out of

 

CHAPTER XXVII.
A DESPERATE FIGHT son um!

“ Owns. the cliff wid ’um! Over the cliff wid
’uml That‘s our little ga-ame!”

“Stow yer—chin music—curse yol—an’ pile
in—hyar—an’ help!”

Coloradol—the wonder country of the New
World!

In the Heart of the Sierrasl-the Back-bone
of the Continent!

Canyons, cleft down! down! to the very
foundations of the earth whose murky depths
never know the glad sunshine!

Giant cliffs, soaring high‘u into cloud-land,
until the beholder turns gid y, and his heart
quads w1thnn unreasoning dread of their top-
pling crests!

0n the ve verge of a beetlin clifl two men
are engaged in mortal combat, ro ling over and
overeach other, their legs and arms writhing like
interlocked serpents; their thews and sinews
fairly cracking w ith the fierce tension to which
they are subjected.

One is a young man, with a face purple with
mi hty exertion, and foul with blood and dirt.

e fights with set teeth, as grim and silent as
death.

The other is perha a few years older, though
still in the prime of its and strength. -

He is larger of frame, and of coarser make.

His features. where the are visible
his tangled beard, are bestial in the extreme.

He growls and snarls in his rage, like a wild
beast, alternately cursing his antagonist. and
making equally profane appeals for assistance to
another, who is evidently is colleague.

The third ty in this life and death struggle
isa son of rin, as his speech has already -
trsged.

overlng about the contestants on the ground,
yet ever With a ,due regard for his own safet ,
he tries to get in a low when opportuni y
offers, or help his pal to an other advantage.

“ That’s might! he shou s. “Now, over-wid
’um! Take that, ye dirthy blaggardl"

But, in the confusion of limbs and > rapid
shifting of bodies, his lust blow finds the
wron man, as a bowl of pain and rage from
his co league attests.

“ Curse your—stupidi—ty! Who are—you
backin’l” he gas , as he could fetch breath.
“Pile in hyar! 'e in—hyarl—you in—fernal
coyote I”

‘ Yis! yis! mahn, dear! Faith! I’m ‘wid
But phat. wid aim-urns an’le flyin’ this
way an’ that, bad luck to the sow 0’ me feet!
but. as me name is Mickeyl Flanni an, I’m
bothered inthoirely to tell t e mm mm the
other o’ yea l” y _

“Take hold of him—blast aye! Will ye let
him—throw me over the—clifl’ ’

“ Yuh I” with a savage snarl at his foe.
“ Curr-res your—infer—na!——”

But his breath was cut c R, as the iron grip of
his silent antagonist closed like a vise on his
throat. ‘

“ Tha-ur, Mose, me darlint! Now I have ’um
be the fut! Role ’um over, mahn, till we pifi'h
’um over the cliff to the rocks halo-ow! Och,
murther! will ye be ’asyl— e devil! Serra leg
willhe have an ’um at all He kicks aqua} to
a— Ohl—Och l—Bad—Ugh!”

But the her lay all in a heap on the
ground, writ ing in agony.

A well-directed kick m the pit of the stomach
had cfleciuall knocked the wind and “ chin
music ” out of im together._ a

With his tongue protrudm and his eyes dis-
tended with agonized fear est death should
claim him before he could recover breath, he
rolled over and over on the ground, his hands
clasped over his stomach, and on hide!» a‘ look
of piteous appeal which would have been ludi-
crous but for the tragic gravity of the situation.

And now, while he lay hora de combat, the
fierce struggle went on between those other two.

Both fought silently now—one with that iron
stillness which had characterised him from the
first, and one because of that p which hooped
his throat like triple bands 0 steel!

Now the awful terror of the scene rose higher
and bi her.

The nil-dog rtinacityof the manwhonever
relaxed his hold)e but struggled on, waitin pa-
tiently, mutelv for the coming of that an oca-
tion which- 0 t forward slowly, surely, with
the flight of every second of time—ever nearer!
neural—and certain in the end to sap the
strength of his adversary, was a thing, in 5'-
self to freeze the blood with a horror unspeak-
able!

And to him lwho, tear as he mighF—flercely!
wildlyl—frantlcallyl—at that inexorable mp,
could never-neVer'looss one jot of Its cruslnng
pressure into his aohingthr‘oat—oh! toth how
on the wings of the wind must have come that
fatal weaknessl—tbat swodnin of the'mnscles
that had never ifaile'd' his till. now !-—that
slippin of the world ‘fromhi! feetl—that fading
‘e bri limes atlas-blessed- sunlight!—
tihatflsfttling own of the dream-chill shadow of

on r

. 'Now he stands in W presence at .ths

Grim Destroyer! -
{few humisz in his mammal
l i ,
,,

.1..." n. s ._,.... . _

 

20 ' The Gentleman from Pike.

 

His tongue swelled and black, lolls from his
ga ing mouth!
is face—now crimson l—now purplel—now
black with suffocationl—ridged Witli veins that
seem distended almost to Lursting; !-is distorted

- by a grimace of agony and horror rivaling the

dread visage of the fabled Goorgon of old, the

' sight of which froze the beholder to stone!

And oh! the ghastly spectacle of those eyes,

’ . bursting from their sockets!

Sickening !——appallcd l—we tear our shuddering
vision from the fascinating horror!

It is over at last!

The limbs no longer toss!

Even that islpasmodic quiver has left them!

They 110 st' innd rigid in never—wakin death!

The survivor rises to his feet, and, w ile his
bioa'l breast lifts and falls in deep respiration
beneath his folded arms, gazes gloomin down
upon his ghastl work.

Now for the rst time his stern lips relax their
iron set.

“ There lies a man—a. fiend ratherl—whose
murderous soul is steeped in the blood of half a
dozen butchered victims! No fault of his that
he did not add another to the accnrsed list by
this villainous assault upon me, laying in am-
bush and striking me from behind! Surely his
punishment is just!

“ But I must learn the cause of this attem t
on in life. These wretches were the ban s,
not t e head, of that damnahle plot.”

And he turned toward his other assailant, who
now squat, staring, his face livid, his eyes dis-
tended, his teeth chattering, every fiber of his
body quivering with fear—fascinated—awed—
not daring to move, lest he might attract to
his quailing person the wrath of that grim
avenger!

Cringing to the earth beneath the stern eye of
the man in whose attempted assassination he
had just taken so ineflicient a art and with
unmanly tears in his eyes, Mic ey Plannigan
snivele his piteous plea.

“ Och, Musther Poikel—pl’ase, yer honor!—
doan’t make me luck loike yan omadhaunl—
saints deund us! Aw, surrl—for the swate love
0’ Godl—you’li not do it!

“Aw, surrl ye’ll spare met—I know ye willl
Take counsel 0’ yer betther falin’sl Blessed be
God! yer that generous an’ that hoi'rh-spirited
ye’d not demane yerself to be wantin the blood
ifwtwan ye’d despoise as the ground undher yer

a e

“ Spa-or me the loife, yer honor, that’s no
good to yerseli‘, at all, at a 1; an’, be the sow! 0’
me body it’s full an' free confission I’ll be mak-
in’ o’ the demon that timpted me an’ Mose Fin-
ley till the murdherous dads!”

“ Who tempted you?”

“ Sure, wasn’t it Mose that came to me. an’——
‘D’ye moind,’ says he. ‘ tha-ur’s twinty dollars in
the job fur yez, av ye’re at all handy.’ says he.”

“ And you would murder a. man for twenty
dollars’i—wretch I”. thundered the Gentleman
from Pike, with astamp of furious indignation,
and a black menace of the brows and lightning
gleam of the eyes that gave him the terrible as-
pect of an angry god.

“Holy Mother dzfind us!” fairly yelled the
luckiess wight who had precipitated upon him-
self this avalanche of wrath. “ Aw, yer honor!
—de—ar, swale Masther Poikel—aw, surrl—in-
:lade, surrl—he all the saints! an’ be all the
sacrimints! I did not know that it was yerself,
yer honor, whin I engaged—bad luck till the
day! Phat will I say to yes?”

nd the pitiful knave fairly sobbed with ex!
cess of terror.

“ Bah!” sneered the Gentleman from Pike.
“ Why am I angered by such a paltry—ani-
mal ."

Seeing the storm past, Mickey recovered suf-
ficient 1y to mutter to himself:

“ Divil snap the unlucky tongue 0’ me! I
could pull it out be the roots, I’m that vexed
wid it Phat for was I afther telling him that,
I dunno?"

“ Go on i” commanded the Gentleman from
Pike. “ What did yonder dead dog tell you of his
employer?” .

“ An’ e’ll not be afther takin vingence on
me yer onor av I’ll tell yez? e gorra! It’s
a clone brist—’ _

“ What hound! do you think I would make
terms with such a villainous wretch as you? I
promise you nothing! G) on; or I will find
means to loosen your tongue!”

“Yis, yer honor! yis! Faith, I’ll not cross
ves by so much as a breath! Ye see, yer honor,
Mose cameto me an’ says he:

" Czin ve stand at me back loike a thrue man,
Mickey Flannigan l’ say he.

“ ‘ Faith I can,” says I.

“‘It’s a matther av twinty dollars to yez,
man, av yer at all dy,’ says he.

“ ‘It is?’ says I.

’ says he.

“ Sure, twinty dollars is twin dollars, these
haird toimes,’ says I. ‘ Phat w' l I do fur iti’

“ ‘ There’s manny apoor den! that ’ud be bet-
ter 01!, av he’d onl eonsint to h, when he was

at out av his in sery lie-or. 1111’ well stairted
a heather worruld, says Mose. wid a wink.
“ 'SOrra doubt,’ said I.
“would, no, maple, We}. I dunno.” nu

 

he ‘to sind a conthrary wan to glory, av his
friends thought it adVisable, an’ for his real

ood?’
“ ‘ Phat’s that fye‘re talkin’ about, Andy?’ says
I, crossin’ mesel .
“ ‘ Twinty dollars 1’ says he, puttin’ his finger
ferninst his nose.
“ ‘ It s a ban in' matther,’ says I.
“ ‘ Twinlydo lars!’ says he.
“ ‘ The Vigilantes is hereabout,’ says I.
“ ‘ Twin ly dollars!’ says he.
“ ‘Faithl it’s dvad broke I am,’ says I.
“ ‘ Twilily dollars l’ says he.
“ ‘An‘ niver a morsel to ate, nor a sup to
dhrink lith four-an’-twinty hours,’ says I.
“ ‘ Tlm’nty dollarsl’ says he.
“ ‘ Go away, man I’ says I. ‘ Do yez take me
fur a murdhereri—howly saints defiud usl’
“ ‘ Twinly dollars !’ says he.
“ ‘Don’t timpt me,’ says I.
“ ‘ Twin! y dollars!’ says he.
“ ‘Whin will we do it?’ says I.
“ ‘ Now ye're talkin’,’ says he. ‘ The first
chance we git.’
“ ‘ Wha-uri’ says I. ‘Not in the cam ?’
“ ‘ Divil a taste, me b’y !’ says he. ‘ know a
thrick worth two av that any day.’
“ ‘ Wha-ur thini’ says 
ls: : Among the crags,’ says he. ‘Wha-ur
i i
“ ‘P’ha—ur nobody will be either spying us?’
says .
“ ‘ Thrue for you, man de-ar,’ says he.
‘ Divil a sowl!’
“ ‘ Who is it?’ says I.
“ ‘ I’ll point ’um out to yez fast enough,’ says

e.

“ ‘An’ be me sowl, yer honor! that’s ivery
worrud he towld me. Faith! I had no more
idee it was yersilf—”

“ But your employer?” interrupted the Gen-
tleman from Pike im atientl y.

"I’m coming to t t, surr. Faith! heur’s
the Lord’s blissed truth, just!”

CHAPTER XXVIII.
BY ran mun or 313 HEAD.

“ WELL, surr,” pursued Micky, I axed ’um—
‘Who’s wantin’ it ’ says I.

“ ‘ Be this an’ be that! but. it’s in uisitive ye
are, Micke Flannigan,’ says he. ‘ ut I don’t
momd tell if yez, beings as ye’re an owld
fri’nd.’ _

“ ‘ Who is it, thin, alana‘i’ says I.

“‘Would yez belave it?’ says lie—a wo-
man!’ ‘

“'A woman? says I. ‘Sure, they’re at the
bottom av all divilmentl’

“ ‘ It’s no lie ye‘re tellin’ says he.

“ ‘ But phat woman in the welds worruld is
this? says I.

" ‘Arrah, thin, ye divil’s limb! Will yez
niverhhave done vexin’ me wid yer questions?
as s e.

" n’ ye’il not be tellin’ me?’ says I.

“ ‘Divil a taste!’ says he. ‘Faithl that’s my
sacret. This much ye know, an’, that’s enough
fur gees—her name is Misthress Twinty Dol-
larsl sa she. _

“ An’ sorra word more, yer honor, do I know
about the matther, at all, at all.”

“ A despicable tool, ready to the hand of any
schemin rain 1’ was the muttered comment on
Mickey lannigan’s account of his temptation
and fall.

Then paying no further heed to him, the Gen-
tleman from Pike turned on his heel, and,
passing the dead body of the would-be assassin
without so much as a glance, walked to the
very verge of the precipice, where he stood and
gazed down into the gloomy depths of the
canyon with its bed of jagged rocks a thousand
feet below!

Even the giddy hight from which he gazed
could not phase is clear, strong brain.

“There is where they would have cost me,”
he mused—“nay, where she would have hurled
me, to lie 9. broken and mangled thing l—food
for wolves and vultures!"

Out of the very brow of the cliff and over-
hangin the awful abyss, its roots struck deep
into a ssure in the rock, grew 6 young pine
whose hole was perhaps less than a foot in
diameter. ‘

Carleton examined it, then pushed it—at
first with his feet; afterward with his shoulder,
with all his might.

It stood almost as firm as the. rock from
which it grew.

“ That will answer my purpose," he mused.
“Now for a slight lesson to as cowardly a ras-
ca_.l as evar lent himself to the schemes of abler
Villainy.”

And he retiu'ned to Mickey Flannigan who,
not daring to move from his crouching posture,
had watched this stran precedure With eyes
distending wider and Wider with undefined hor-
ror.

What mysterious peril threatened him!

“ Aw! Master Peike, surr, phat are ye goin’
to do, I dunno? I’ve towld yer honor ivery
thing thrulyT-be me sow], I have I” cried
Mickey Flannigan, in terror and despair. ‘

“Stand up l” commanded Carleton. sternly.

“Yin. our! will" cried maker. trying to

 

placate the man he feared by prompt obedience.
‘Oh, surrl phat are you gem to do wid me?”

Paying no heed to his anxious inquiry, Carlel
ton looked the man over critically. .

Let us follow his example.

Micke Flanni an was rather all in stature
and slig t of bui d, standin not more than fivo
feet four, and weighing per aps a hundred and
thirty-five pounds.

Beginning at the top, he was thatched with
an abundant shock of coarse, straight hair, a
compromise between red and yellow.

Next. his face was thickly covered with great
brown freckles, interspersed with gray patches
wéiich looked as if the outer skin had peeled
o . '
in matters of dress, Mickey was no “ proud,”
a “fakir” cap; a red flannel shii t, patched
“ wid any thing at all that came handy; brown
breeches, sustained by a bit of rape tied about
the waist, and stopie boots, as rough as burr-
oak and as hard as horn, comprising his notions
of a comfortable and serviceable tellet.

Bye the way, where the mountain cla was
rub d ofl one could yet detect traces o lime
on those ancient boots; for, “ in the States”
Mickey had carried the “ bricks an’ morthar to
the top av a foive-shtor house, d’ye moind
whoile the man above— ad luck to ’uml—did
all the work!”

“And such a creature as this might have
hurled me to my death!” mused the Gentleman
from Pike, with rising indignation, as hagazed
at the trembling wretch.

“ Turn your back to me!” he commanded,
sharply.

In an agony of fear at not being mitted
to see the unknown danger that t eatened
him, Mickey began to pant:

“ Oh, sum—oh, surrl—"

A gleam of lightning shot into Carleton‘s
eyes; he took a sin le step‘forward, and put his
hand on the butt 0 a. pistol.

Plainly, he was not accustomed to repeating
his commands.

“Yis. surrl—yis, surrl”

And Mickey went round the quickest he had
ever done in his life. ‘

“ Cross your hands behind your backl”

“ Yis, surrl—yis, WNW-complying with
nervous Erecipitancy. .

With is bowie-knife the Gentleman from
Pike cut the rope that bound Mickey’s breeches
gt t3: waist, and with it proceeded to bind his

an .
“Then came a. bellowing wail of agonined
rror.

“ Och, Mnsther Poikel—de-ar, mate Musther
Poike l—it’s not ban in’ me to yon three ye’d be
doin’? Aw, surrl p «at will I say to yez? Och,
murdtherl that iver I lived to see this day!
Shoot me surrl—hill me inthoiiely, he-ar, an
this blisse spot l—hut doan’t l’uve me hangin’ to
the three, l-UI'I‘, a thousand fate from the
ground l—doan’t do that wicked thing, surrl
Phat av the rope would break l—oh, wha-ur
would I no! Spare me this, surr, an’ the blissed
Lord will re“ ard yez!”

Heedless, unmoved, impl \cable as a Nemesis,
the Gentleman from Pike proceeded calmly
witt- his work.

When it was done, his hand fell upon Mickey’s
shoulder with an iron grip, and his stern, cold
voice commanded :—

“ March!”

Mickey felt that hand whirl him round, then
urge him toward the brink of the recipice. .’

One stare at the yawning abyss —one glance
around, as if for succor or escape !—one look
into the face of his iron judge l—and with a yell
of desplair that made the rocks around ring
again, is knees that long had smote t gather
now refusing utterly their sup rt, he fell to the
ground, a pealing, in a wild umble of invoca-
tion, to a of the saints for protection, his
most piteous prayers had failed to move the
mercy of this im acable avenger. .

As coldly ind‘ erent as if ahuman bein were
not being tortured almost to frenzy un er his
hand, the Gentleman irom Pike transferred his
grip from Mickey’s Shouldrl‘ to his shock of
coarse hair, and, without a Word, began to drag
him toward the brow of the cliff.

Here was the terrible element in this man’s
iron nature—that, having decided to act, he
moved forward in the direct line of his purpose,
never wavering, never pausing, but taking each
successive ate with the steady recision and ir-
resistibility 0 an insensate mac ine.

Shriek after shriek rent the air from Mickey
Flannigan’s now foaming lips: but planting his
feet firmly and throwing his left arm about the
trunk of the pine which we have described, the
Gentleman from Pike cooll swung the ver-
ing, frantic wretch clear 0 the cliff, on V held
him suspended over that sheer descent—that
:iwful gum—of a thousand feet of intangible

1

While bein dragged over the ground, Mickey
had struggl like a maniac. V

Now he became suddenly stilL.

en awful hush had fallen upon voice and
ac ion. - V .

Only an involuntary shudder now and thqi
ran through his home. r ‘

His teeth were 016M

 

l)

 

12

 

A_.

His eyes were wide-staring—glassy.

The man was frozen with horror!

A moment before, the cm 5 had shivered and
shuddered with blood-curd ing sounds, as if
haunted by a. legion of shriekmg deals of de-
spair; now, far down the canyon, the echoes
waned fainter and fainter. as if the uncanny
things had taken their flight, back to the gloomy
caverns of the abyss which pl'lSOIle them from
the light of day!

Then, when the stillness became almost tangi-

ble, as if shuddering nature held her breath in ‘ 1
the presence of an impending tragedy, Carle- :

ton’s voice, dee and solemn as that of some
dread oracle, fe upon the dull ear of his now
scarce conscious victim.

 

CHAPTER XXIX.
A DEADLY PERIL.

ALTHOUGH she did not understand his words,
there was something so reckless in the aspect of
the Frisco Sharp that Lilian Amherleigh shrunk
from him in terror.

“I want no outcry,” he said, shutting the
door and putting his back against it. “ Do you
see this?”

And he drew a bmvie-knife from his belt and
tried its edge on his thumb nail.

The (girl gazed at the glittering steel as if fas-
dnate .

“ One cry for help, and I will cut your tongue
from your throat i”

As ne gazed at the trembling girl with blood-
shot eyes, he looked fully capable of carrying
out his horrible tnl‘eu t. He had drunk just
enough liquor to make him thoroughly devilish.

he advanced toward her, Lillie sprung to
the other side or the table which stood in the
middle of the room.

“Stop! stop!" she cried. “ Wh have you
come to molest me? I who never did you any-
thin but good!”

“ _ come .at the instigation of a woman," he
replied, cynically. “ No man would ever cream
of such flcnd’s work. But a woman’s jealousy is
equal to anything. ‘Bury my rival" beneath a
mountain of shamel’ said this angelic creature;
and I am here to carry out her Will. Come! re-
sistance is useless. Pre are for your doom!"

But the afliigh ted gir dodged back and forth
about the table, as he tried to get to her.

“ Oh! you cannot be so cruel!” she cried.
“ You are beside yourself. You do not remem-
ber that it was I who savad your life.”

“Yes, I remember all that. Did I not say
that I was bringing hell to on and to myself?’

“But you will not! b! you are not so
wicked! Why should you wish to lend your-
self to the revenge of that terrible woman?
Have I not greater claim upon your mercy?
Did I watch over you through the horrors of
the plague for nothing? What can this wicked-
ness ofit—"

“ nough! enough! curse on!"

And wrou ht t ’ fury, he gan to push the
table tow the wall, so that it would no longer
furnish her with a. means of eluding his grasp.

“0h! 8 are me!" cried the distracted girl.
“ Help! He p! 0!!! Oh! O—u—oh !”

Shrill rose her screams, as she felt his iron

ip on her wrist. She threw herself upon her
gees, and still pleaded with him in a torrent of
wild words. ‘

With a. savage oath ho pressed his hand over
her mouth, stifling her cries, and lifted her in
his arms.

Then, after a moment of frenzied, ineffectual '

struggle the fainted.

Now she la all helpless in his power!

He placed ier on the rude settle which stood
against the wall.

She might have been asleep—nay, dead l—she
lay so white and still.

With her face so like marble in its pallor, the
wonderful perfecmess of feature stood out like
fine chiseling, until she resembled a beautiful
piece of sculpture. _ .

Withal there was something infinitely piteaus
in that still face!

The man stood and gazed upon her: and grad-
ually the ferocity died out of his face, to give
placeto a great sadness and remorse.

“Is it not enough,” said he, "that my base
treachery blighted the flower of his life? And
she—so pure, so innocent, so beautiful l—mnst I
do this hideous thin ?"

He shuddered at t e thought.

“I am not all devil,” he pursued. “Only a.
fiend could tempt me to such hellish work. And
yet I love her! Can I spare this spotless child,
and lose her in consequence?"

He stood erfectly still and silent after that

uestion.
t is man’s nature washrouight face to face with
all that was selfish and ev . Would the good
angel win?" '

‘ CanIlose herIlove?” he re ated. “No!
no l—a thousand times, no I” hen this girl
must be sacrificed?”

Again he paused: and she who was so com-
pletely in his power appealed to him only by

or helplesness, her purity.

The man trembled from head to foot. Great
beads of icy sweat stood on his forehead. His
features worked medically. He wrung his

11 that moment all that was good in'

The. Gentleman from Pike.

"inf-'1 "7 ‘ y '“r' 

21

 

I hands and struck them together in that fierce
travail of the spirit.

“Oh! I cannot look at her!” he cried, with
agonv in his voice. “ That piteous {face would
. move a verv devil to mercy!’

And striding to the table, he fiercely struck
his hand down upon the candle, extinguishing
. it and leaving the room in utter darkness.

There was the sound of his footste recross-
1 ing the floor, then a long silence, during which
1 all nature seemed to wait, shuddering, breath-

ess.
At last the dead stillness of that darkened
room was broken by a sound of sobbing, and a
voice cried:

“My God! I cannot! Icannotl I cannot!”

And there. with no eye to see him, the Frisc)

Sharp was kneeling beside that still, unconscious

form. A woman’s purity had won!

Presently he arose, stirred with a fever of ex-

! cite-merit.
, “She must be satisfied with something less!”
‘ he cried. “Even a jealous woman cannot be
, utterly ruthless in her hatred. 1 will separate
them. He will suffer torture unspeakable never
, knowing what nameless calamity has befallen
; her. She too will suffer, bein torn from him.
lBut not this thingl—not this damnable ini-
quiryl”

He struck a match. The candle he had ut~
,terly demolished in extinguishing it. By the
1 light of matches, then, he took a coverlet from
1 an adjoining bed-chamber. and wrapde the
1 unconscious rirl in it from head to foot, then
. lifted her in HS train and bore her from the
- house and away in the darkness.

A moment later he r~nppeared in the road-
; way on haischack with Lilian Amberleigh held
l before him.

Then from up the gulch came a c which
had thrilled more hearts than one wit super-
stitious dread.

The Frisco Sharp was a man of intelligence,
yet thorough] imbued with a gambler’s super-
stitions, whic prepared him, without exactly
sharing the vulgar belief of the ignorant miners,
to view this mystery with shuddering dre: (1.

He now found himself in the dilemma of hav-
ing to face the Ghost of the Canyon, or to dash
through the mining camp before that terrible
cry brought the revelers from the saloons to
throng the street along which he must ride.

His choice of the latter alternative was in.
stantaneous; and putting spurs to his horse, he
swopt down upon the camp.

Then out from the darkness came that awful
something, its coronet of serpents hissing and
dashing forth their forked tongues, its eyes blaz-
ing, its boar like tusks gleaming white in the
gloom, and flecks of foam flying from its
champing jaws, while its terrible voice filled
the mountain pocket with shuddering echoes.

Evidently it was in pursuit of the fiyin horse-
man; but if it overtook him, what co d save
his innocent burden from its rage?

Alas! she was beset on all sides!

CHAPTER XXX.
THE UNDELIVERED MESSAGE.

“Michael Flannigun!” said the Gentleman
from Pike—and the mere employment of the
proper form of his name, which Mickey could
not remember having ever heard, save from the
lips of a riust, was. in itself. terribly impress-
ive—“Michael Flannigan, do you realize that
only my will stands between you and an awful
death? A moment ago you had it in _\ our heart
tohurl me downl—down l—down !—to 1 lie jagged
rocks ten hundred feet below! New 1 how but
toopen my hand, and—”

A pause, more terrible than putting the awful
horror into words.

“M'chael Flannigan, shall I open my hand?

 

 

me?”

But the tongue of the wretch was paralyzed;
he could not reply.

“Listen, Michael Flannigan.
dition will I spare your life.”

Ali! was there a hope?

A slight quiver, running through the frame of
the man suspended between life and death,
showed that he heard and understood, and how
eagerly he grasped at this straw.

“Swear to me— Stop! Oaths are nothing
tosuch a. wretch as on; I will only charge
you with my will, an then release_you, without
any romise—with nothing to bind you save
your ears, which the recollection of this mo-
ment, i feel assured, will never let sleep.

“ Remember. then, this:

“ If ever you break the commands I now lay
upon you,—l1'm'ng or dead, I will hunt you to
the ends of the earth, drag you to this spot tie
you as I have tied you now. and dro you m
the base of this tree—down l—down —nowm__
into the black hell that now yawns beneath

on!” .. , -
y A s smodic quiver showed how deeply this
bl: threat struck root into the superstitious
nature of the helpless listener.

“Living or dead I” he had said; and Mickey
Flannigan believed that, living or dead, he
would sure] fulfill his vow.

On one con-

 

“ Now 113 a well to what I say.
“ By attempung my assassination, without

Shall I mete out to you what you designed for,

 

the slightest shadow of provocation, on have
forfeited your life to me. I now old that
forfeit in my hand. Or in own free will, Ican
claim it, or at it go. In t 6 case of your vil-
lainous accomplice, I took what belonged to me.
He lies dead witth reach of my hand! To you
I giVe back that to which you have no right,
except as coming from me. You will continue,
as before, to walk among livin men! But
understand—I only lend you this ‘fe, which is
mine, ol’ right, to do as I please with it—l (and
it to you to use as I shallcomn and! From this
time forth you are mine !——body and soul! Bo-
ware that you do nothing to offend me: for
when it pleases me, I shall take back whatI
now lrndl

“ Come! stand upon your feet!”

When Mickey again stood on term
with his hands uni ound he pulled the ton-lock
of the sure] lop which lied stood him in such
good stead during his awful peril, and said,
some“ hat tnmulously:

“Mustller P( ike, I thank e, surr, koindlyfur
the loife ye spared to inc, Vi in, bad e been so
moinded, ye ciuld as ’usy ll'ilve fixe me loiko
Mose tl a’ur—only worscl”—with a shudder.
“Ma God n-ake it up to yiz, surr, whin you
stun i: nade! Manewlioile. to show yea that I
appreciate the ginerousdade )e’ve done this
day, I‘ll tell yer 1.: nor the name 0’ Hr inimy,
that yiz may guard eg' n the intuie.”

“ But I thought 'ou did not know her?”

“Did I tell ycz t int, 3 er honor?”

The “iuling spii it ” would crap out in-
stinctively

Already Mickey’s face took on the demure
questioning peculiar to his nation under like cir-
-cunistanres.

“ Certainly you told me so,"replied Carleton,
amused, in iyite o! the gravity of the situation,
Ly this touch of iiborn nature.

“Well, yer honor, either being so ginerous
the day , ’e'll not gaudgeto furgive me that. I
must ’a’ and to yez, sun!”

“ I thin k it prohal'le you did.”

“ But, MUlUIET Poike—pl’aue, yer honor-—
ye’ll see that I’ve repimcd, and am doing bet-
ther now.
thing about it, but I‘m m’aning to serve yer
honor?”

“ True enou h. Well, her name is—”

“Mistbress ayford!”

A shudder ran through the frame of the
Gengleman from Pike, and he answered not I
wor .

A moment later there came the sound of bar-
rying feet; and a man, breathless with run-
ning, burst into view around the angle of an
adchent crag.

t a glance the new-comer took in the whole

situation.
ersilf, Musther Carleton?” he ash

jlrma

eduAn’isilt‘ l t ' d ‘ l i
re: ct u , ye gazmg won enng y rom
the livilfg to the ghastly dead. “ Sure, comin’
up the gully bcyant, I heard yells that woild I
thoughtthere was niurdlher doin.’ But, Howiy
Motlier! ptat’s all this, surrl”
“ How do you do, O’Connor?" said the Gentle-
man frcm ike. extending his hand cordially.
“You are just too late to witness an attempt at
assassination.”
“ Phat, surr? To murdther you I”
“Yes.”
“More Finley did it? Faith! ye’ve ch'md
1be hanpuan. vu‘ honor. It was too good fur
’um io die [9 the hand av a reel gintleman.
“An’ lvat are um doin’ he-ar, Mickey Flap~
nigan? hey do yes 109]: so dc uncast, matnl
Had you a band in this divil’s wot-rulil—ye
n-urdtherin’ l-lagga id ! _ -
“ Did he, indade, sun-l"—-turning to the Gen-
tlen an from Pike.
But do latter seemed absorbed in gloomy in-
trosigction, and heeded not, if he heard the
qun s on.
Mickey was about to 'slink cfl', when O‘Con-
nor’s hand frll dctainingly on his shoulder.
“Tell n 9, ma! n—was it you? An’ it was
your cowardly voice I heard—now I know it."
“ 'l‘ake ycr hand off me, O’Conm r!” said
Mickey, sullenly. “ Sure I’ve done nothin’ to
the loikes of you, Let me go,] say! It’s not
in you to gainsay Musther Carletou’s own
words.”
“ An’ did he givp yez l’ave to gel”
“\Faith, he did.”
“ An’ do ya intend to lave ’um go, loike lhil,
yer honor—soot free?” cried O‘Connor, indig-
nant and incredulous. ‘

.“Let him go," said the Gentleman from

9

“Well, Mickey Flannigan, I’ll say this:-
tha-ur’s not another mahn that fiineious in all
the Rocky Mountains! 01.! [- time for ya,
mahn, that ve’d iver consint to nnurdther van
that does only good to ivcrybody that cones his
way. I’ll wager that ye’ve ’aten thcbread that
his money nut into yer mouth, whin manny av
us would ’a‘ starved to death‘ last winthcr. but
fur him. 011. mahn! e’re a disgrace to yer
kolnd! Ould Ireland. diet has or: led an bravo
min and thrue as iver died ben’ath the heel av

the oppressor, would disown the lollies av

you i”

What a contrast was resented

between ,
those twol—one glowedng w th when, hanging u

Faith! wboy ilse would I say any

The Gentleman from Pike.

 

ferocity, and one with erect d e, and frank,
openlfeoe glowing with honest indignation.

“ Howld . on, Tom O’Connor!” growled
Mickey; “ ye’re crowdin’ me too haird, mahnl
I’ll l’ave- yez go lasy, now; but I’ll be even wid
you, at. fur this. ”

“ n’t e minace me, Flanni an, or I’ll l’ave
not a who e bone in yer cowar ly skinl Since
Musther Carleton has said it, gal—an’ the divil
go wid yezl Tha-ur’s wan to remimber an honest
man b l“

And he delivered a tremendous kick in the
rear which shot Mickey forward like a stone
hurled from a catapult.

The disoomtlted villain turned and shook his
flat at the man who had put upon him so well-
merited an indignity; but, not heading him,
O’Connor turned to address Carleton.

The man had disap aredl

“Ochl butI must eliver me missagel” mut-
tered O‘Connor, drawing the note from his

pocket.
But, thou h he ran in the direction he sup-
the entleman from Pike had taken, he
ailed to find him.

Then he called him again and again, making
the: rocks ring with his name; but his shouts
died away among the echoing rocks, and no re-
sponse came bac .

Forced at last to abandon the search as hope-
less, the honest Celt concluded that it would be
wisest to return to her who had sent him and
re rt his misadventure.

ut are he reached the camp his heart was
turnedw ice by a cry so terrible that wild beasts
fled before it.

“ The Ghost 0’ the Canyon 1” muttered O‘Con-
nor, and he shrunk cowering to the ground.

But the voice receded, and at last he plucked

‘ looked over the crowd With despair and angr .

 

u courage to hasten on.

pA few minqu brought him in sight of the ,
cabin where he had left Lilian Amberleigh. ‘

Beyond, through the darkness he could see ‘
lights gleaming in the mining camp. and ‘
shadowy forms urrying to and fro, whi e from i
before the Metropolitan came the sound of ex- 2
cited voices.

Breathlesst the Irishman ran to the cabin.
He gained the threshold. The door stood wide. ‘
The ones was untenanted.

" Howlnyaints deflnd the colleenl” he cried,
droning biweelf while his hair seemed to rise
on end; “the dhost o’ the Canyon has made
way wid herl”

CHAPTER XXXI.
BELLA snaronn TRIUMPHS.

Or the wings of t .e wind flew the Frisco
Sharp down the dwerted street, and was lost in
thednrkness beyond before the “ hells” began
to disgogge throngs of excited men.

The s uctor was pereciv.d by no one; but
some of the foremost were just in time to catch ,
a glimpse of adread monster which had coursed '
throufh the camp almost at his heels, filling the
air w to those blood-curdlin cries.

“Gents,” said Moxy, so emnly, “ that thar
ain’t the sign 0’ no good luck for this hyar camp
— e hyea‘r no r‘" .

The miners stood in the middle of the street
and need into the darkness where the monster
had isappeared. and slowly shook their heads
in an awed silence.

A window in the second story of the Metro-
thfian was raised, and Mrs. Sealord’s head

st forth.

“ What was that. gentlemen?" she asked, her 1
voice shaken with the trepidation of fear.

“ The Ghost, ma’am,” replied Moxy.

“ The Ghost?”

But before he had time to explain, a halloo
was card from the direction of the Angel
Works, and a man was seen running forward at
the tap of his 5 . '

 

 

“The Coup eman from Pikel” exclaimed
Jud e Wiggins. “There’s something wrong l
up is are!”

“No " said Moxy—“ it’s Tom O’Connor.”

“ Och. murdther. h’ysl cried the Celt, com-
ing up breathlessly,” phat will we do! Bad
luck to this day. but the Ghost 0’ the Canyon
has made way wid the Angel 0' this camp,

intirel l”

“ What’s that 7” cried Judge Wiggins.

“’Pon me sowl, there’s mver a wan in the
housel Wasn’t it Miss Lillie that sint me
either the Gintleman from Polka, that worried
that she couldn’t resthrain the tears from her .
swate 9 es? An’ wha-ur did I find ’um but on ‘
the blqu beyant, jist afther fur bem’ murdther-
ed by Mose Finley and Mickey Flannigan,

“What’s that! The Gentleman from Pike
murdered?" chorused several of the crowd,
gathering about O’Connor excitedly.

“Be ’asy,me‘ darlintl—ss the pin says to
Teddy Ma lody, whin he set down on it una-
wares. ud the likes o’ thim spalpeens shtand
uneg’in’ a man loike the Gintleman from Poikel .
Bhdscen to them! wasn’t it Mose Finley that
lay stone dead, an’ Mickey Flannigan yellin’
Woody «murdther’i Faith,l.tha~ur’s the divil ,
nowl- Didhe-have at hand In spen'itin’ 03 Miss;
Lillie I dunno!” '

Awhickey, pets with fear, mptforward to
he» the  otthe excitement, the crowd

 

‘ ces. ful.

‘ wasting time!

' the man, Mrs Seaford stood speechles

pounced upon him..and with furious oaths and
the brandishing of weapons, demanded Lilian '
Amberleigh.

In vain he protested his innocence. His at-
tempt against her guardian’s lire tolda ainst
him. In a twinkling the excited meu ad a
rope about his neck, and were dragging him to-
ward the cabin. ,

While they were there a man strode among ,
them, with stern brow and face now pale with '
apprehension. ‘

“ What is the meaning of this! What is the '
matter? Has anything happened to—”

But the name died on his lips. The Gentle-
man from Pike swept every one from his path r
and strode into the house, swinging wide the ‘
doors and examining its four rooms with the .
rapidity of a whirlwind.

hen he turned upon the crowd a face terri-
ble to look upon in its anguish and stem men-
ace.

“Si eak! speak 1” he cried in achoking voice.
i‘ Wing’t has happened? Where is Miss Amber~
eigh

In a few words he was put in possession of all
the known facts, by Judge Wiggins. Then he

Y
impatience in his eyes, as he noted the look of
superstitious awe on every face.

‘Men, he cried, “ this Ghost of the Canyon
is all bosh, as far as anything supernatural is
concerned. I tell you it is some men who has
his own endsto accomilish. Sn pose some one
has found a rich stri e and as taken this
means of fri hlening others away, while he
coins his mi lions? I dare hunt this thing,
whatever it is, to its lair. How many of you
dare follow me?”

The wily suggestion of wealth out of which
they might be tricked inflamed the avarice of
the crowd. But Tom O’Connor, from pure
courage and love for the abducted girl, cried:—

“Count on me fur wanl l’ll i'ol y yez to the
divil an’ backl” ‘

“ I want ten men, to whom I will guarantee a
hundred dollars each in an event, and five
hundred when we recover t e lady,” said the
Gentleman from Pike, who knew the weight of
a certainty.

Instantly the crowd was at his disposal.
From them he picked ten in whose courage he
felt that he could rely in any ordinary case.
Then, without dei ning a lance at the shiver-
ing wretch whom t e crow still held, he strode
from their midst, straight toward the Metropol-
itan Hotel.

There was but one guest chamber of any re-
tensions, and, assuming that Mrs. Se 0rd
would occupy this, he went directly to it, and
entered without the ceremony of knocking.

The lady, standing in the middle of the room,
received im with disdain and defiance. She

an :—

‘ You seem to have forgotten the courtesy—3’

But the Gentleman from Pike interrupts her
sternly.

“I am in no humor for trifling,” he said
struggling hard to control the pension that
prompted him to annihilate this woman ata
stroke. "You see that your vile emissaries
have failed in their attempt on my lite. With
a defenseless woman they have been more suc-
Tell me who they are, and what they
have done with h r.”

“You are talking in riddles, sir. By what
right do ou accuse me—"

“Stopl’ cried the Gentleman from Pike,

.wing fairly purple with suppressed rage.
‘One word of equivocaiion or evasion will
make me forget that you are a womanl Were
you a man, I should have strangled you to death
without a word. As it is, I almost queSIion
your claims upon my forbearance. But “ears
Spea 1 Where is the girl you
have caused to be abducted?”

' A wicked smile of triumph lighted Mrs. Sea-
ford's face. .

“ Find her 1” she cried, defiantly.

“Woman! woman! do not tr me too farl”
cried the Gentleman from Pi e, seizing her
wrist.

“Unhand me, you rufianl” cried Mrs. Sea-
ford. “ 0h! your man-hood has improved
strangely by association with this creature!
How dare you come to me from such a vile—”

With a savage cry, this man who had been
wronged and out ed be ond endurance, and
now saw her he oved tter than himself
threatened by a nameless peril, while the perpe-
trator of the wrogf not only gloried in her
wickeness and defi him, but vilified her inno-
cent victim—with a. savage cry he caught the
woman by the throat. But before his fingers
closed upon her delicate flesh, he remembered
himself, and released her.

Not at all hurt, but cowed for an instant by
the fury to which her insolence had wrought

Before she had time to recover herself, the
Gentleman from Pike had turned and rushed
faom the room. He could not trust himself
t ere. .

As he emerged from the hotel he saw the form
of Mickey Flannigan dangling at the end of a
rope and writhing in mid-air. surrounded by a

 

housing male. 80, utter was containmny

this cowardly wretch that he-heeded him no
more than if he had been a dog. . Whilehe dis-
dained to strike him himself, he .would not raise
a finger to rolong his worthless life.

ll Men 1’)
torches, and be ‘11 thesesrchat-onlce 1",.

1. '11“? minutes ter the camp was ablaze with
1g .

Meanwhile it was discovered that Mose Finley

was the only man missing from camp. This
uickened t e superstitions of the men. Who

1: en but the Ghost of the Canyon could have

carried the girl off?

But the Gentleman from Pike called attention
to the fact that a horse had preceded them Iv
terious apparition; and .diligent..search 
covered t
not far from thecabin.

With this beginning they commenced the
seal ch, but lost the trail on the rocky ground
before the had followed. it half a mile. -

When t e morning dawned, and they were.

no nearer success than when they t out, the
Gentleman from Pike realized that he hada
difficult and uncertain task before him. .

HIS agonywas beyond words. There wasno
violent outward manifestation.
turned to stone. Only his eyes glittered with
something akin to insanity.

Butrif he writhed with pain at theunoertainty
of Lilian Amberlei h’s ate,
like molten iron wit hatred. 01 the womanwho
had twice blighted his life.

“I will wring the secret from her it! have.“
resortto torture!” he cried in his agony. , “ By.
heaven she shall ieldl
her womanhood s
in crime? No! no! My darling shall not be
sacrificed to her jealous hatred!

e cried, in ringing. tones, “prepare.

his heart glowed

6 place where a horse had been tied a

He seemed. .

Is the mere fact of.
cient to give her immunity:-

But when he sought her he found that .she.had.-

fled in the night. - An attempt to follow. her, on
which _ great _ hope. .was. built at the oumt,
proved as fruitless as the previous search:.

“ Then, when he stood face. to face.wifli,de-
spair, the Gentleman from Pike and-his
came upon the strangest
ncssed, except onlfitthev

host of the Canyon.
Indeed, at first sig

M 1-.
oracle they. ever viz
the miners were terrified, .

thinking that they had come at last upon the .

great mystery in broad daylight. and one

cried.

“Good God! thar’s the Ghost,l,-—two.of.’em,
fur rOcksl Scatter, gentsl—scatterl’l ‘

“ Stopl” thundered the Gentlemaner Pike,
drawing a revolver. “The firstmanwho ats
tempts. to run will be dropped .in his tracksl
Now let us see what this is that everybody
fears.” much. ‘

CHAPTER XXXII:
CALLED ro account-

Tnn sun beats warm and bright down in is.
canyon cut in the solid rock h the curred ..
floods of a thousand years.“ he red~steine
rock. the green ines, the misty waterfallstare
all familiar to 9 eye. But in.the bottomof
the s are moving two objects welllcalnulsted
to 11 the beholder with ammmentozeveadn
that country of marvels.

They are a man and woman—hut such I. w
and woman!

The former is tall and muscular. wifltithe
bearing of a king. His deeply-bronzed facade
molded into features of remarkable strth
and nobility. His eyes are keen and . II
from a life of ceaseless vigilance.
dosing heard and hair give him an airof-w
ma'esty.

is apparel is of undressedbearskinusnd d
the most primitive fashion. His arms consist
of a bow and arrows, a nude mace formed of I
rock fastened to a handle with the sinewsof
some animal, a hatchet of flint, a sort ofpilu or
j-n-elin, and a knile or dagger made fromys.
tone.

The woman .s remarkable for great delicacy
nf feature and exquisite symmetry of term.
Her-hair, also long and flowing, would be.the
envy of a Metropolitan lelle. But on .her
beautiful face rests the pathos of a great-sor-
row. <
She is appareled in the skin of the mountain
goat, dressed to a snowy u hiieness, and fashion-
ed into garments of stran e beauty. At: her
back she carries a low an quiver, a slender,
flint—headed lance in her hand, and in her. girdh
a bone pomard.

It is as if this strange pair had been mm
from the stone age into this modern day.

The man steaks, and in English.

“.Couragel courage, dear friend. Have we
waited during ten yearsof hopeless inaaivity,
ttalilz’isnngzpow at the very threshold of ourunder-

n

 

His 101m;

“ es. I know,’,’ replied a sweet. piteous voice. a

f‘ But the world seems so big. I never mused
it until now. Am ,I ungratele .But,_I have
suffered—oh l .I have sufleredso longlfl I

t'lt‘eeags 1 ti f that
u r esoa ono cry.»-

“Hushl hush!” he admonished, only. “Lu

us not doubt God’s wisdom org a.” may

own time and maybe sure t at, E. waxwork

the greatest goodof his crew? »-
The-womatwlx-wbm,.

sprung to the eyes of themsn. math.

*5

*5

“My little darlingt—my baby l—my lost, lost
treasurel—whero are youl—oh! where are you,
in all this great, cold world!”

What love is like mother-lovel—what con-
stancy so defies time and circumstance?

The man gazed at the woman, and over his
soul swopt a great rem reace, a profound pity,
a. tenderness beyond words!

“Ten long yeaxsthen unending ages of
separation!” wailvd the woman. “ he would
not know me! The mother who bore her, who
nurtured her at her breast, who has wearied
heaven with unuvailing tears and prayers that
her heart might be glnddcned by one more look,
one more smile, one more caress this side the
grave, would be to hora stranger! Oh! can a
merciful Father so crown the m'series of my
wretched life! What have I done—"

“ Madeline! Madolinel”

“ Oh! I know what you would say. But have
you a. mother’s heart? And have I not been
patient? Ten years of living death! 0h, Hugh!”

thut could he say? The man u as mute.

And all about them towered giant peaks that
bespoke the power of God; at their feet sprung
the delicate floweret, protected from the rude
mountain blast by His love; and over all the
calm, blue sky proclaimed His peace!

Perhaps something in nature appealed to the
sore heart of the mother; for her pluint ceased,
and she walked on in silence. .

They had proceeded thus for some time, when
the woman suddenly stopped, and, paling, cried:

“Hark!”

The man thrust his javelin into a crevice in
the rock, and unslingmg his bow, longer than
himself, and fitting an arrow to the string,
stood at bay.

In this country danger might lurk behind
any crag. Constant vigilance was the price of
life and liberty!

“There are several approaching,” whispered
the woman. “Shall we fly before we are dis-
covered?"

“Without knowin whether we are fleeing
friend or foe?" re lie the man. “ No. We must
risk something. of: us wait."

The hollow I'anyon in which the. rode vi-
brated with tho clang of steel on me . A mo-
ment later quito a cavalcado appeared down the
tortuous vista of the cm 5.

“They are whites!” cried the man.

“Thank God!” aspirated the woman.

The horsemen drew rein, evidently apprehen-
sive of this strange pair.

Only a moment. Then their leader rode
boldly forth. -

A glance showed the Gentleman from Pike
that this pair, as strange as they appeared, had
nothing in common with the Ghost of the Can-

on; andhe approached them with a look of in-

cur: t .

At sigh» oiliim the fear passed from the wo~
man’s face to give ilace to a. look of burning
questioning. o drew near all conscious-
ness save 01' that face left her. The flu: ce strug-

le between a \Viltl hops and a shrinking, fear-

ul incredulity bereft her ol' speech, and almCst of
iration.
he could but gaze. with her dazed soul in her
eyes, until he reached her very side. Then, with
a shriek of delirious cxuitation, she sprung for.
ward and clutched him with her clinging hands
—with those mother-hands that .ri oned him
and would not let him g , until be ad delivered
up her lost treasure!

How she sobbeil l—how she laun'hed l—how she
choked with emotion that stifled spccc'il—how
the holy tears ruined from the eyes that de‘
voured him with questioning that her lips re-
fused to frame!

In open-mouthed wonder the miners gathered
round and sta rod.

Bcwildcred by this sirange greeting from a
total stranger, the Gentleman from Pike could
only stammcr;

" Madam !—-my dear madam !”

“Hugl'! Hugh!” cried tho lady, flndin her
voice and turning to her escort. W110 11a fol-
lowed her, at first in alarm, then in wonder,
then in excitement second only to her own,
“Oh! H h! It is hel-it is he! Thank God!—
thank l” _

She choked. She seemed about to faint from
excess of .

In ada sort of way the Gentleman from
Pike had the presence of mind to slip from his
saddle to the ground and an ort her.

“ My child 1. My child! here is my child?”
she gasped, sffll clmgmg to him.

“Your child?” be repeated, as if he scarcely
com rehended her.

“ esl Yes! I gave her to youl—ten years
ago!—when the flond threatened us all with de-
struction! You rode away with her—my baby!
You are herel—aJiVei—welll You must have
saved her. Give her back to me! What have
youdoue with her? Where is she?”

-“ And arsyou that mother?” asked the Gen-
tleman from Pike, with unutterable ity and
unatterchle ‘pain in his voice, ng :1 her with
humidmycs, and prolonging er suspense with

unconscious cruelt .
“Am Ithammoilier? ated the woman,

interpreting his~words too literanY- “Y
{mt-.Othcmotdouht it! Look-

 

ThemGentleman from Pike.

23.".

 

There must be some familiar feature—some re-
semblance that will link me to my child.”

She held up her taco for inspection, gazin
into his eyes with a wild appeal, as if her sou
hung upon his decision. Her frame quivered,
and her breath came in panting gasps. .

Who could gum unmoved upon such a specta-
cle? Who could look into those hungering
mother-eyes and tell her the terrible truth?
Would not she fall dead at his feet?

An agony that transcended speech swept over
the man, and he stood mute!

Those who were w1th him gazed one upon
another, and their bronzcd iuces poled, and
their rugged frames shook. What was this
terrible tragedy that they were looking upon!
He whom nothing had ever daunted before now
stood unnerved, unmanned.

Into the face of the lady’s escort came. a terri-
ble fear. He advanced and put his arm about
her, as if to rofect or support her. gazing the
while almost erccly at the man of whom she had
demanded an account of his stewardship of her
child. as at one who was about to deal her a
deutlrblow.

This fear had not yet put its icy hand on the
woman’s heart. She saw on] a man whose dull
faculties she had failed to quicken.

“ Hugh, speak to him—convince him!” she
gasped, in a fainting appeal to her escort.

And he, understanding aright the man’s hesi-
tation, said in a deep voice, veined with dread:

“ I am Hugh Gunnison, captain of the wagon-
train wri cked near this spot ten years ago.
This is Mrs. Amberleigh, who gave on her
child when you rode down upon us wit warn-
m .

“ Yes !—I ve her into your very hand!”
cried the mot er. “ Tell me—where is she?”

And the man, constrained at last b her wild

ssiou, said, with hanging head, not coking at

or :—
“Iwould give my life to know!”

 

CHAPTER XXXIII.
A Burns. ALTERNATIVE.

WHATEVER the .natnre of the Ghost of the
Canyon, it was hampered by human limitations;
_for the horse of the Frisco Sharpl outstripped it
in speed, and. it it sought to 10 ow his trail, it
lost it in the darkness.

Alter several miles of hard ridin over a way
that was full of difficulties even vdaylight,
the abductor let his jaded animal drop' intou
walk, While he began to cost about as to what
was best next to do.

It did not take him long to realize that havin
carried this girl of! under- the impulse oi a blin
passion, he was now in a dilemma what to do
with her. ‘ _

The indispensable lprerequisites were shelter,
food. and security rom both escape and dis-
covery. These could be easily secured for a
short time; but what he had not forecast was
the nec.ssny of acting as her 1 iler for an
indefinite period in the iuture.

\l‘ but ultima'e disposal could be made of her?
He could not remain her perpetual jhilcr; for,
own if so wild a scheme were practicable, it
would cut him of! from his reward. But the
moment she was free from restraint she would
re'- \in her guardian.

rs. Sea rt! would never accept so uncertain
a substitute for her heartless purpose.

But the need which lay nearest was a place of
hiding; and be 1500!: the unconscious girl to a
cave with which he was familiar.

Here. by the light of a pine knot stuck into
a crevice m the rocky wall, be regarded her for
some time in gloomy thought before making
any eflort to revive her. At last, frightened by
her prolonged deathlike puller and ihnnolillty,
ltiedbegan to work over her with nervous solici-

u e.

The moment she showed sinus of returning
animation, he arose and retire aistep.

Ah! how terrible was that awakening—alone
in a gloomy cavern, filled with shadows, rather
than light, by the smokln torch, and standing
near the man. terror of W cm had thrown her
into that deathlike swoon!

The girl started to her feet, wild-eyed and
grating; then shrunk comarlng into an angle

the cavarn wall, and stared at him her teeth

chatterin —a £001- creaturs frantic with fear.

The co shuddered.
“ Don’t look at me like thut." he said. “ You
need not fear me. I will not harm you.”

“ Oh! what have you done’l"sbe cried. “ ,y
have you brought me to to this terrible place?
“ Because 1 was not quite devil enough to
carry out a woman’s fiendish barber-ity! No—
not even .when my heart’s desire was held forth
as the bribe! Seal—you owe me something of
ratitude for the measure of my email: to you.

n sparing £21,} fear that I am thm g away

my on]

Her gyes wandered from his face, in furtive

glances cast about into the heavy shadows, as it
u est of some avenue of escape.

“ not waste-strain
at flight,” said the Sharp. “ Do on
think that I would'incnr all this risk, and t men
let you slip through my fingers? ‘No; you shall
never leave this. place olive, union. in

in a hopslcs cttempli‘

 

!

MI I will bindmysclf. by any comment scum

conclude to carry out your cum 'I infamous
ul'pose. I may bedrivento it in send. For
ow can 1 hope to keep you alwc s a on tivel
Then, too, she may not be sati ed wit this
scheme. The malignancy of ajealous woman
is not easily a ipeased.”

The Frisco harp seemed who working out
thoquestiou in his own thoughtc,.rather than
explaining, the situation to the sl rinking ' l.

‘ eyes were fixed upon. her with than. unw uk-
ing stare noticeable when the thoughts are turn-
ed within. ,

“ Ohlzhow can you be so cruel l" cried Lilian.

“How can lbe so cruell I will tell you the
whole stol y, and then you will understand.

“Years ago 1 met Mrs. Scuiord then the
bride, just over her lzolle‘ axon, o Ihe man
linoun to y on as William Carleton. You have
seen her. From “but she is now, judge of her
is hen perhaps a year or t“ 0 older than you are.
61 e v as the belle of any circle which she chose
to honor. Men flattered her by their devotion,
m mm by their ill concealed ex-vy. Was it a
“coder that the should be a “quench-that
utter her marriage she should regret her old
triumphs?

"William Seaford—that is his true name—
wasa man of hi h ideals. He attachtd great
value to woman idehcucy. Ho reprehcnncd
his wile’s levity. at he believed that it was
only superficial. He would have trusted her
with his lite—nu , more than that, he did trust
her blindly with is honor.

“ Me also be trusted, almost as implicitly, I
lelieve. When business called him away from
home. he laughineg left his wife in my charge.

“We were thrown upon each other tor en-
tertainment every day, and all day. We rode
and hosted, read an d :m g together. At noon-
day and in the treacherous moonlight, we were
ever side by side. '

“Had I been as honorable as her husband
thought. me, I would have gone own ‘; for
every look I bent upon her was abetray of his
trust. As for the site, she saw my homage,
and led me on by the subtlest arts.

“ No (R ubt at the outset she meant to kre
me suspended beta een heaven and hell, whi 0
she carelully adjusted the larrler of propriety
between us so that 1 could never overstep it to
compromise her or myself. But she was play-
ing with tire; and in the end she lost that per»
feet control which she had confidently expected
to hold over herself.

“i do not think that she loved me. -But my
boundless adoration flattered her vanity. m
excusing my love and remain; to loo upon it
as dishonorable to her and myselt alike, she
came to revel in her power, and, at last, to pity
my misery: so that when I cast honor and
loyalty to the winds and fell at her ieet, tLo
intensity of my passion overpowered her, and
she was swept (may in that mighty rush of
emotion.

“I do not so that she would not have re-
covu'ed her-sell dole it was too late. I in ink
probably she Would. Lut late denied her the
opportunity.

‘ Concluding his business earlier tl on be ex.
pee-ted, her husband octermi: «e to give her a
pleasanl stir} rise. My God! what a berm-cum-
ing! He came upon us In the moonlit garden.
She lay unresisting in my aims, while I poured
for h my burning 058101) in insane spud), and
named kisses upon er uptulned lace and lips.

"1 uncovered him first. 1 shall never lei-get
Lis look. It mu me 101cc

“1 never leard such a cry as came from his
lips. It ruined his faithltss wife, and she tore
Lem-ll from my end race just in time to see him
level a visiol ut'my lit-tort.

"Peilops you can inn first the womanly in-
stinct that. row \ted LI. r. She sprung before
we and "carved e lulli-t in lcr on 11 body.

“When he saw lu-r tall 4 Ld lit- nutio) 1- so and
Herde it unnerved him. The pistol fell frun
lis hand. For a momtnt le sued goal at
l‘er like a maniac. Then he turned and fl ..

“Ikrow now that he thought he had lulled
her. He was not unocciived until tbs-cc days
ago, when he met her and spurned her repent-
ance and protestations of love. I

“ It was in the moment when he discovered
his love for you. Her up once crushed bun.
I think that the knowle go that her blood was
not on his soul ibirch hmittltoh r3116! :3 him, in-
volvin as it d .a m er a. you Separate
him frgin you. She read all this In his horrified
re also of her. I

‘Now on know the mad Jealousy which
gave birth, to her fiendish sche me to crush bar
rival. I was to be the instrument. And what
do you thinklwlcs to be my reward? All that I

crave—-
“ Thisisw at I am forcgoin for the lake,
not so much of what I owe you t of your in-

nocence and purity. Again, I
me something of gratitude!”
“Obi. but you will tester these higher, better
in iratious!’ cried Lilian, with clasped hand.
an supplicating eyes» “Such v-ickednen
could never bring you happiness. uncou-
lng taproot of conscience woulddmbitter. by;
thing, you‘ might. gain. Give. up this; tend
scheme. Releme andI willncvcrbctrcy-you.

say, you owe

a

-:.  "-..‘.'I,‘."‘.' " '-

’l

i!

24

 

The Gentleman from Pike.

 

 

a; topimpose. I will promise anything—any-
“E

The Frisco Sharp walked the floor of the
cavern in.moody thought.

The girl exhausted every ground of appeal,
until she crouched thcrc, sobbing in utter
wretchedness and despair.

Suddenly the man stopped before her, ex-
claiming:

“ I have an idea! Will you promise me this?
Swear that, if I release you unharmed, you
will go away and never attempt to see William
Carleton again—never let him know what has

become of on!”
The 1 ad risen to her knees with a wild
hope. ut at the thought of never again seeing

the man she loved—ay, she did love him !--she
shrunk back with athrill of nameless dread.

The thought so suddenly conceived thrilled
the Frisco Sharp with a wild hope. Here was a
solution of his difficulties. She should herself
maintain the barrier between her and the Gen-
tleman from Pike!

Carried away with this idea, he sprung uppn
her, clutching her by the shoulders as if ut
awaitin her refusal to dash her to the ground,
and crying, wildly:

“ Swear! Swear! What do you lose? Noth-
ing! Is he not already debarrcd from you?
Swear, I say! or accept your doom, now, with-
out an instant’s delay 1”

His words were true. That woman stood an
im ble barrier between ihem. Poor Lilian,
M h honor and at least peace in one side of the

cale, and only the poor privilege of seeing him
she loved, while knowing that they must ever
walk apart, in the other, gasped:

“ Yes! yes! I promise 'Iyou!”

“Enourh! Enough! he bargain but waits
Mrs. Seaford’s smut; and she must accord it!
i will leave you 'now and return in ten or twelve
hours, at furthest. You will be without food or
water; but here are fngots in abundance. You
will at least have light.

Ho hurried from the cavern, blocking up the
narrow entrance with bowlders, in such a way
that they could not be removed from within.

Lilian Ambcrl igh was alone with her wretch-
edness and that line! rtain hope contingent on
a salons woman’s ca rice!

here was but one right spot to contemplate
—the Gentleman from Pike had spurned his
false wife for love of her!

CHAPTER XXXIV.
A STRANGE EXILE.

“ I WOULD 've my life to know!”

Into those ow-spoken words the Gentleman
from Pike threw a! the passion of his great love,
his at despair.

T n dead silence fell!

The clasp of those mother-hands fell away
from his arm. The woman shrunk from, him
pith slowly. distending eyes, slowly whitening

ace.
At last came the hoarse whi er:

"What! what! You do not now?"

“ Alas, no !”

She stood gazing at him with a great horror
in her eyes. What was this terrible thing he
had said?

She pulled at her hands with a piteous tearing
motion, while she whispered to herself:

“ He does not know! He does not know i”

Then, wringing Lcr hams and trembling, she

n to wail and moan, cvcr quivering ex-
!) -tion rending the Learts 0 all that heard
her, while her eyes, brimming over with tears,
were fixed upon the Gentlemen from Pike in
a onized up al and wondering reproach.

0, air V cm bed beneath an insupportnble
burden of pain, dared not raise his eyes to her

co.

She looked piteously at the others.

Strong men all, yet helpless Lere!

Dizzily she turned toward the man on whom
she had learned to lean in every emergency
during that eventful toil years, gazing now
into his eyes with a dumb despair.

He Opened his arms and clasped her close
n his breast. He had no words of consola-

on. Can speech reach the hights of rapture
or the depths of despair? _

She shivered as with a sudden icy chill.
With her lips at his ear, she aspirated in ahoarse

Whig:—
“ t! Inst! Lost!”

And he of whom she had demanded that
which ho had not to give, covered his face with
his hands and proaued aloud! '

For a time Mrs. Amherlcigh’s despair was in-
eonsolnble. Then when she was calm enough
to listen, came a. story of intrigue and cruelty
which filled her with horror.

“But,” conc‘uded he who had held his trust
securely f:r ten years only to lose it on the
very eve of his calling to account,” while life
instep} will seek her, and, when found, avenge

‘r

"A rumble of indorsement rose from the lips -

of his followers. Weapons were gnu; and
bows bent with vindictive wrath. pea
“Let us lose no time, but proceed in our
search.” said the Gentleman frsm Pike, who
sinoeLilian‘s «Lappearsnoe had Leena prey to

 

uncontrollable restlessness. “Men, have we not
horses-4’

But before the words were out of his mouth,
every horse in the party'was at the service of
their strangely-met guests.

“I thank you,” said Capt. Gunnison to the
men: “ but I have so long depended solely upon
the means of locomotion which nature pro-
vides. that I should feel strange in the saddle.”

But the Gentleman from Pike, with the
courtesy which he showed to all women, but
with a reverence and tenderness which set the
mother of his darling apart from all others, ad-
justed his stirrup, and placed Mi 3. Amberleigh
in his own saddle.

Then the rty once more advanced, the com-
mander W king leside his guest.

“ There is one com lication in this case,” pur-
sued the Gentleman m Pike,” which I cannot
whollyi nore, though my reason prevents me
from fal ing into t e popular prejudice. Of
course its connection With the case in which we
are most vitally concerned is ‘purely accidental;
and et .t has a weird intores of its own. Who
or w at is this mysterious Ghost of the Canyon?
Excuse me; but your strange appearance leads
me to think it ssible that you may be able to
throw some lig t on the subject.”

And the Gentleman from Pike looked suspi-
ciously at Capt. Gunnison.

“Has this man been masquerading all these
years!” he asked himself. ' “and frightening
those credulous miners? There may be a rich
mine back of this mystery, after all 1”.

He forgot that, when he first saw the Ghost
of the Canyon, Capt. Gunnison had just en-
1tired the country at the head of 'an emigrant

am.

At mention of the mountain mystery, Mrs.
Amberleigh uttered a suppressed murmur of
fear. and involuntarily drew nearer to Capt.
Gunnison.

The latter did not wholly repress a. shudder.
A look of de;p gravity came over his lace, as
he replied :—

“ What I have to sa on that subject, I will,
if you please, reserve or your private car.

“ It is natural,” he pu ed, looking about on
the miners who had no r for a moment ceased
to re ard him and his companion with open-
mout ed wonder and perhaps a shade of dis-
trust,” that my strange a pearance and long
sequestration from. my to ow-men should ex-
cite curiosity: and thaps some explanation is
due to the world.
details at present, I will say that the disaster
which befe 1 my wagon train ten years since is
doubtless known to most of you.

“ After the subsidence of the flood, I awoke
from a swoon. to find myself surrounded by
darkness, and menaced by a pack of ravenous
mountain wolves. My first th: ught was of the
lady whomi had attempted to save fiom the
torrent, and I conceived a bewildered notion of
driving the wolves back and searching ior
her. Indeed, I entered upon the snuggle, using
a wolf. which I swung by the hind legs, as
a club with which to beat 0!! his fellows. But
as my faculties cleared—which took but a mo-
ment—l saw the hopelessness of such an under-
taking in the darkness, I having no idea \ lere
her body might be, own if she were yet rlive;
and I then sought to escape with my own lite.

“I might not have succeeded. but for the
number of dead bodies of men and animals ly-
ing about, which detained the beasts of prey
As it was, I escaped through the only opening
in their ranks: and at last, became conscious
that I was following a being of some port,
which emitted cries even more teriible than
those of the wolves.

“ But I caught the flut‘er of what seemed to
be a woman’s armeuts, and conceived a half-
delirious idea t at Mrs. Amberlei h was being
home away by the, creature, whatever it might

“ I then bounded in pursult at the top of my
s ed, calling after it to stop. But it ran as
113; as a deer, never looking round, if indeed it
heard my voice.

“How far we ran up the canyon I do not
know; but excitement stutainel me long after
I would otherwise have dropped with exhaus-

tion.

“ At last the creature stopped before the
mouth of a cave, which was so hidden among
the crags that it might be rpaged and repasserl
a hundred times unobserve ui-less one fell up-
on it by accident, or were led there by one know-
ing the way.

“ Then I rushed up and seized it, determined
to contest to the death the possession of the un-
conscious lady it held in ivs clutches.

“ Gentlemen. in the darkness I seized hold of
the bodv or a wriwgling serpent!"

At this 'nt . Amberleigh covered her
face with or hands, with an audible shudder
of unspeakable horror and loatl ing.

Captain Gunnison gazed upon her with a look
of sad tender-hem and pity. Seen thus. his

ged face took on a beauty of beneflcence
that at once drew the Gentleman from Pike to

him.

"He will be a worthy father and rotector
for my darling. when we have fonn her,” be
reflected, sadly. “Alas! my eflorts to protect

ithout going into minute

 

her win now make her position only the more
embarrassin .”

t. But Captain Gunnison had resumed his mum
ive.

"Before I had time to even let 0 the loath-
some body, the snake sprun a col about my
wrist. At the some instant t e monster, whose
body seemed loaded with reptiles, dropped his
unconscious burden, and assailed me With the
fury of a demon.

“From that moment I knew nothing. until
several days later, when I awoke to conscious-
ness, to find Mrs. Amberleigh nursing me back
to life. My bod was fearful] bruised and
lacerated; and I ad nearly ble to death. To
her tender ministratiors I owe my life!”

Upon the W( man be bent a look, not so much
of gratitude, as of deep reverential love. But
Lack of it lay a great sadness, blended with a
pity so tender, so wistful, that it seemed as if
tears lay Just beneath his eyelids.

The woman turned her eyes upon his. In
their dc tbs lay a great gratitude, a reat trust,
a great eve, but also an ineffable sa ness, atgit-
rous (guestioning and wonder, a longing at
setmi half reproachful of him and half re«
proachful of self. Her eyes listened with the
tears that no stern self-contro held in check.

“ I but returned that which you had already
given to me,” she said, in low, sweet tones, her
voice vil'rent with a profound tenderness.

Capt. Gunnison sighed, seemed to force his
gaze from hers with an fifort, and then walked
on in silence, his eyes on the ground, his grand
face shaded with the gloom of sadness too deep
ior words. The man was evidently strugglin
with (motions which a weaker nature could
never ex erience, nor even appreciate.

“ A 1i ‘e tragedy!” reflects the Gentleman
fl cm Pike, who had heard from Lilian Amber-
leigh all that the child knew of her mother’s hil-
tiiry—only the woman’s brooding sorrow, and
the atsence of the husband and father, whom
the child never 1‘4 mi mbered to have seen; but
(nough to piipare him in a measure for the in-
ierprctaiion of this situation, which he alone of
the listining miners rrrccived. “It is plain
that they love 61.011 other with a love which
comes only to natures of his strength and her
tenderness. What, then, has kept them apart
all these years? For the are apart—I can see
that plainly enough. t is the conscientious
recognition and respecting of this barrier that
makes their unhappiness. What is it? Not
constancy to her husband; for she loves this
man. Is it an overstraining of scrupulousness
because she has never received positive proof 
her husband’s death?

It might be this; for she was a woman who“
face, amid its patient shift ring, bore the in»
press of gocdness and lility—a woman w! om
the Gentkman irom .ke with a glow at his
heart, thought worthy .to he the mother of lip
lcst dl rling!

But Capt. Gunnison was again speaking.

“I lound that we were in a valley, shut in
from the iest of the world ly iraccessible
petks. For ten years I have wri light to eflect
our escape lr(m thit Irisonl Last right cur
deliveiance vus (fl‘ected. We met you. You
ki ow the ri st.”

The u (no. r of Cart. Gunnison's auditors was
(nlv ir<~reased by this iii-sage story.

Tl'e Gentleu‘sn trim Pike now umed with
(ulirsity to learn that cr'nfir'ierce “hill: the
sin rgt Y ixilerl man had promised lim tuich-
ing 1! (v G! (s! of the Caryen. “To, what, was
1his m3 I-ik‘l'k us monster. and what agency had
le—or 11—! ad in s! utilng this man and woman
up from the vi orld fora decode?

“Shall we go in advance!” he asked Capt.
Guni'iscn, his curiority s[ peering in ayes and
“me.

“if you lease,” was the reply. ‘

Mrs. An eileigh muld l ave kept beside the
man of w! cm, by re: son of 1heir long seclu-
sion. she seemed a necessary part: but, with en
intflible gentleness iii touch and voice, he put
his hand on her shoulder ai‘dsaid:

“Madolire, do not feel hurt if I ask vouto
remain behind with the oihrrs while I talk with
this gentleman. You lnowt! at I would not
make the nqucst vuttout ii cigl tv reason. W.
will rcj in \ ( u in a few minuti s. ’

Through his voice Vll rated a tender depreca-
tion which, to tht Gentleman from Pike, seemed
more than tie occasion called for. Later he
understood it fully. ‘

With a leek of questioning surprise, yet per-
foot trust,_Mis. Amherleigh yielded compliance;
but her Wistful eyes never left the gentlemen as
they walked in advance. in low, earnest conver-
sation. What was the revelation being made!

CHAPTER XXXV.
A WICKED woman's noon.
Mus. SEAFOBD was pacing her room in a
state of high excitement, when a small pebble

 

’fell upon the floor, coming through the open

window. .
Divining that it was a signal, she hastened to
the window and peered out into the darkness,
Below stood a man in a rough miner’s dress.

He made a quick motion with his hand, and _

then moved awa’ dawn the street.

is wasng i; but, without a menu-j

 

The Gentleman from Pike.

—.:‘ "2 :i'“—,’—,r. :

 

 

hesitation, the woman dressed herself in black,
so as to be inconspicuous in the darkness. ere t
unobserved from the hotel, and hastened in t a
direction taken by her mysterious summoner.

“ He is goin to take me to her,” she reflected,
with a fierce c uckle of unrelenting mahgnity.
“Ah! it will be worth all it has cost me to see
her writhe! And erhaps it will be as well for
me to keep out of £13 wa until the edge of his
fury is turned. How he ooked at me! _ For her
sake he might go to anfi length, notWithstand-
ingm womanhood. 8.! ha! when he comes
to wrin from me the secret of her whereabouts,
I’ll tell im fast enough. Much hafipiness will
the recovery of her bring him! T on he will
rid me of my cat’s-paw. The foo] l—does he
think to buy a woman’s love by gratifying her
hate! And, having betrayed a man a hundred
fold his su rior, does he think that I will keep
faith with iml”

With these reflections coursing through her
brain, she hastened after the Frisco Sharp, who
kept ahead of her until they had left the mining
cam out of sight.

“ ell?” she queried, upon overtaking him.

“I have come to take you to her,” he re lied.

“You have divined my wish. This w 11 be
the sweetest part of my revenge! How does
she bear herself! Is she crushed to the earth?
But wh did you carry her off? She must be
restore to her lover! The blow is but half
struck while she suffers alone.”

The Frisco Sharp shuddered at the houl-like
eagerness of the woman. But before a could
reply, the had, to leave the road, to avoid the
party bellied in their attempt to follow his trail.

The sun was above the mountain peaks when
they entered the canyon leading to the cave
where Lilian was imprisoned. Before the
mouth of the cave the Frisco Sharp stopped.
Until now he had delayed telling Mrs. Sea 0rd
his failure to carry out her lot, and the substi-
tute he had to propose. er exultation had
been so utterly without remorse that he knew
that she would exact the utmost of him. Now
with a chill of dread u n him, he said:

“Store. moment. have something to tell
you be ore you enter.”

“I have no time to listen now!” cried the wo-
man. “Let me see her at once! When my ha-
tred has been cooled a little, then I will hear all
you have to say. Now I want to see herl—I

want to laugh in her face !-I want to make her

welcome to such love as she can win from him

now! I
And in her ea erness she would have preceded
hr guide into t e black mouth of the cavern.
But the Frisco Shaigp detained her resolutely.
“ Wait!” he falters . “She is not as you ex-
pect to find her."
She turned upon him with wondering inquiry

angling with her impatience.
“ cagpt as I expectto flnd heri‘ What has

n, eagerly: .
“ Is she cad! Has she killed herself r”
Ker tiger-lab clutch, the savage lance of her
eyes, ther the Frisco Sharp wit a shudder,
and caused his heart to sink with hopelessness.

“ No,” he replied, “ she is not dead—”

“ What then? lEpcot"! speak!” .

"Aside from a action, she has suffered no
harm from me—”

“ Wins-l”

The woman fairly shrieked the word.

“ i could not do it ” he went on, hastily
averting his eyes from her white face. “ But I
have mother plan, which will answer every

of your revenge. She will swear to

Sis: , and never let an one know what
has mine of her. The wi be separated: his
is will be as great; an she will sufler scarce-

less. Your revenge will be complete; and I
shall be spared—" .

" FOOL l”

While listening to his words, the forces of
her had been gathering themselves. Had
he loo ed at her, he would have been warned
b the intensified glitter of her eyes, the gray-

whiteness of her face, the gathering togt‘ilht‘l‘
of her frainc. But with his eyes on the ground,
he knew nothing of her murderous pur e un-
til her hand struck his breast Violent y and a
deadly faintness came. Then he realized that

_ she had fleshed a stiletto to the hilt in his bod?!

One look of niaad reproach, and he sunk
to the ground, thout a word!
Likean insane creature the woman rushed in-

to the awnin mouth of the cavern, carrying
fl” ng kn e in her hand.
“ At least, I can kill heri—I can kill herl—I

“a an her!" was the one thought that kept

thr‘o h her brain.
h thueginterstices in the rocky barricade

. ‘10 coal see the gleam of the torchh ht within.

The with her frail hands infuse with the
Willa of a maniac, she began to tear away

“‘9 Mb. until he had eflected an entrance.
Lilian Amber! h stood with distended eyes
Md hands cla over her cpiimting bosom.
35° VII struck speechless wi fear, at the

dfit of that blood dag r.

a. lurid mmiiigafie Mrs. Seaford stopped
thin a few feet of her victim, and stood re-
hr with a hatred which transcended

 

“ So!" she hissed, atlas , “.‘you bewitch every
one who is sent against you? Well, try your
powers on me!"

The spell was broken. It was only woman
against woman, after all. Lillie was quite as
large, and perhaps stronger than her antago-
nist. Her active life had made her self-reliant,
in spite of her gentleness of disposition. _ Only
the thought of that bloody knife cleavm its
way through her flesh paralysed her wit an
icy dread.

“What do you mean?” she cried, casting
about for some means of escape or resistance.
“ Why do you persecute me so relentlessly i"

“I m'ean to reunite geou with your two
lovers!” sneered Mrs. aford, venomously.
"One I Jil‘OClll‘ed the death of last night. He lies
mangle out of all recognition in the can on
bottom. The other agreed to leave you a li a to
rid yourself of which ‘you would Willin 1y pass
through a hundred eaths! His hear failed
him, as you know. I drew off with this dag er
the water that took the place of blood in is
veins. He lies now just at the mouth of this
cave. Ha I”

For Lillie had suddenly sprung to grasp one of
the unbui'nt torches that lay on the floor.

But Mrs. Seaford, quite as active, leaped for-
ward, kicked the torch beyond her reach, and
menaced her with the dagger, crying:—

“Bewarel Do not precipitate your own
death!"

From that reeking weapon the girl shrunk
away, shuddering.

But now a new thought came to Mrs. Sea-

or .
“ Stop!” she cried “why should I dis tch
on at once? No! I have a better plan! will
save you here to die of starvation and thirst,
while you reflect on the death of the man doom-

by your infamous love! I will leave you.

here in darkness, and drag the dead body of
your last conquest into the passage, to keep you
company! Ha! ha! A rare courtship you will
have with that bloody corpse! You here, alone.
in utter darkness; and just on the other side of
your prison door the body of a murdered man!
Hatha! I envy you your thoughts during the
next few days, before death or insauit re-
leases you from the horrors of your ving
tomb!”

In pursuance of her new scheme of cruelty,
she began to edge her way tothe torch which
had in a measure dissipated the terrors of Lili.
an’s imprisonment. But left in utter, ra less
darkness and with that hideous corpse ying
between er and the daylight! Lillie was frozen
with horror! '

She would not submit to this without a strug-
gle. She was growing desperate. Sheba an
tocree after her wonl -bemurdere.~s watch ng
for a. c ance to spring upon her and disarm her
of that bloody wea 11.

But Mrs. Seafo was just as vigilant. She
possessed herself of the torch, and began to
walk backward toward the exit of the cave.

So, each With her eyes fastened upon the
other’s they crossed the chamber, keepin pace,
step by step, one with a laugh of ma icious
triump the other growing paler and paler,
and wi der and wilder, with a. desperation that
increased in recklessness with everv step nearer
that horrible emtombment with the terrors of
solitude and darkness and, the ghastly dead!

There was somethin thrilling in the s cta-
cle of these two delica women so entire un-
der the dominion of fierce animal inst ncts,
equalin intensity though difl'erent in charac-

ter.

So the _had reached the mouth of the passage,
when L inn Amberleigh’s eyes suddenly left
those of her enemy. and passed on beyond
tlxing upon some object behind Mrs. Seafo
with a ook of horror which sur even
that which had preceded it, when she stood
face to face With the prospect of being en~
tombed alive.

Then the great heart of the woman manifes-
ten itself in ail involuntary act—an act sublime
in its generosity She extended her hand with
a cry of warning to the woman who was even
ghenh’ihreatening her with a fate worse than

eat

Before Mrs. Seaford had time for thought,
she felt on her check the contact of something
cold and clammy which thrilled her to the soul
with a sickening loathing. , .

Instantly after that warning cry, Lillie turn-
ed and in her blind flight, ran headlong against
the canyon wall, to sink tothe ground bleeding
and senseless.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Seaford had turned to face
the appalling danger before which the terrified
girl had forgotten all else. v ,

As she turned. he felt the coil of a set nt
about her neck! .Her ears were pierced wi h a
blood~curdling hissing: her eyes were, blasted
1with a yxision thatttruck horror unspeakable to

er sou ‘ '

With a shriek of agoniud fear and repulsion.
the desperate woman dashed the blazing torch
fall into the face of the monster, and struck
wildly—again, and again, and a n l—with her
dagger, until it seemed as if a egion of loath-
wrupmssouowhwta their strum

 

Then the torch fallin to the ground, was ex-
tingpished, and the dar ened cavern resoundod
wit the terrible cries of the Ghost of the
Canyon!

 

CHAPTER XXXVI.
ran UNKNOWN Palm.

“ Lar me begin,” said Ca tain Gunnison, “ by
telling Iyou briefly the sad 5 ry of Mrs. Amber-
leigh s ife.

" She is of an excellent New England famil ;
and up to the age of seventeen was reared
luxury. At that age the bankruptcy and se-
sultantdeath of her fatherthrew her on her own
resources; and she sought to support herself as
a governess.

" Imagine the life of a sensitive I, entering
in a subordinate osition where t a had once
niledl She was su ijected to insult by her one-
time rivals, until her position seemed no longer
endurable.

“Then she consented to a secret marriage
with a man to whom she had been betrothed
during her prosperity, whose father, when ad-
versity fell upon her, commanded his son h
break the engagement on pain of disinheritanoo.

“ For six years this boy and girl marriage—
for the husband was but nineteen—had but one
cloud—its secrecy and the unavoidable absence
of the husband who lived this double life.

“ Then, b some means, his secret was dis-
covered, an the father cast his son at without

a cent.

“ Without resources, and never havi can“
a dollar in his life, the young husban found
himself in hopeless povert , and sunk into
brooding melancholy, until is wife feared fl"
his reason. One day he disa peas-ed, and the.
her cup of wretchede was ull tooverflowlng.

“ She appealed to his father for assistance to
look for her husband. The hard-hearted parent
ejected her from his door as an abandoned
woman, denying that she had any legal claim
on his son, and showing her a letter, in which
the writer stated that he had deceived the
woman, who supposed herself his wife, by a
sham marriage.

“On her return home, she found moths
letter awaiting her, full of wild upbraidin ,
charging her with betraying the secret of th
union and causing the writer‘s ruin. This letter
also declared the marriage a fraud, the writer
explaining that he had resorted to this means of
saving his inheritance in case of detection, but
always intended to marry his wife legally, u
soon as he was master of his fortune.

“ Can you imagine a more crushing blow!
The wife did not put the world’s false estimate
on the situation, and feel that her own woman-
hood been impaired in any degree. No
Stigma could attach to her, in her own
by reason of another’s sin. But her idol was
shattered—the man she had placed on so high a
pedestal had fallen below the basest.

“For weeks she la at the goint of death.
Then her child called er, and s e rallied. She
had but one thou ht—to find the father of her
child, and deman justice for it. Alas! in her
innocence and inexperience, she had no proof of
its is timacy. She did not know the minister
who iad performed the ceremony, nor either of
the witnesses.

“That is her sto up to the time when she
oined my ill-starr wagon-train. Now for our
'fe subsequent to the catastrophe. the Ghost of

the Canyon, and discoveries I ave made during
our long imprisonment.”

It must have been a strange revelation that
Capt. Gunnison had to make to the Gentleman
from Pike, jud 'ng from the sad solemnity of
the speaker. an the wonder and deep interin
on the face of the listener.

At last the former continued--

"I have the marriage certificate and the con .

fession now in in possession. But how can I
tell her the terrib e truth? The shock would
her whole after life with horror. I have though
that it would he better to let the papers be pro
duced after our escape by some one else whc
would claim to have received them from a iIvling
man. in this way all that is desirable w be
secured, and she will be happier bv reason of
her ignorance. What. do you thinki"

The Gentleman from Pike grasped the other’s
haniil. and ifplied:— w d “I f th

“ canno ex ress e ep 0 my sym .
for you—and foli- her. The situation is as  a};
it is strange I am at a loss how to advise you.
But I agree with you in this—that the terrible
truth must be kept from her at all hazards.
The kindness of the sufipression, and the useless
ness of disclosure. wi be ample justification.
For the rest. we must be ggieided by circum-
stances. But if the secret come public, it
must almost inevitably reach her cars at some
time, through gossip, or_ even a chance paragraph
in the papers. That will be a constant menace.
How can we rd against it?"

“ The wet d must never know,” said Capt.
Gunnison. “You and I must make awgy th
the mystery. in a short time its vary 9 stance
will become mythical. The world will class it
with the other su rstltions bred by cranes."

“ Make away with it!” repeated t e ontlemsn
tram Pike, with a look in -

- “ Under-tea. .c,‘ pun:

25'

 

26

“the uarriians we provide for it will have no
way 0 distinguishing it from any ordinary
case it we do not tell them the dimerence.”

“ h! Certainly," replied the Gentleman from
Pike, with a lco of comprehension. “ It will
be a difficult and delicate task for two men so
far away from a suitable place of confinement.
But it must be done! We shall succeed!”

l‘nto'his face and voice came the iron deter—
minatibn of his nature, and Ca tain Gunnison
knew that he had found a value 1e coadjutor.

rtha‘l there was a new tenderness in the
deference of the Gentleman from Pike toward
Mrs. Amberleigh; but to her. as to the rest, the
secrets of that conference were sealed.

But a few minutes later the speculation of the
miners was lost in a new excitement.

It was a man lying on his face on the rocks,
unconscious, with a blood trail showing where
he had ore t on hands an knees!

The Gen leman from Pike was about to turn
his face to view, when he shrunk back with a
shudder of instinctive repulsion.

Captain Gunnison turned the man over.

t_ From more than one lip sprung the exclama-
10D:

“ The Frisco Show? ! ”

The Gentleman rom Pike was suddenly
shaken by a terrible fear.

“This may have a sinister significance,” he
 breathleml , to Ca tain Gunnison—‘ and,
possmly, a hope 111 one or us! No man is miss-
ing from the camp but Mose Finley: and he lies
dead, we kn0w. May not—she ave been in
collusion with this—man—in the plot of abduc-
tion? Revive him—if he is not dead—you! I
cannot bring myself to touch him! Make haste!
He any confess—”

The Gentleman from Pike spoke disjointedly,
his sentences broken by shudderings, as he
struggled with emotions that rent his soul.

Raw brandy, poured down the throat of the
unconscious man, did its work.

He opene l'his eyes and g ized about.

' t:Ca t. Gunnison bent over him and demanded,
s ern :

“ here is Lilian Amberleigh‘l What have
you done with her? ”

The mother was on her knees, with c‘asped
hands, and wide tearless eyes. Breathlesst she
hung n the e ted answer.

The ntleman trovn Pike, unable to look up-

_ on this man who had wronged him so deeply,
had turned his back and so stood, quivering
from head to foot.

The Frisco Sharp glanced at his interrogator,
unmoved b his strange appearance; then, look-
ing awash1 at his eyes rest on the passion-shaken

1

form 3! e Gentleman from Pike, while he an-
swere :

“Therel—in yonder cave! My blood will
lead you i”

The moment be com rehended those words,
the Gentleman from Pi e set out on that san—
guina trail with great bounds. His darling
was a the other end! That was enough for
him to know! 4

“Fetch this man along, two of you 1” com-
manded Capt. Gunnison; and then followed the
Gentlfiman from Pike, with scarcely less ardor
man is.

But the mother! Ah! she would have sped
with the wings of a bird! No one that saw it
ever forgot the look on her face, as she ran for-
ward! he murmuring cry that iSsued from
her lips came back to them, years after, in
dreams;

But at the mouth of the cave all stopped in
sudden dismay. From the bowels of the earth
came those terrible, well-known cries.

“ The Ghost 01 till: Canyoin !” utlterelili tiguiilmin-
ers, n quivering nos, an wit w i - 'pped
fear they stopped short.

But with a cry of agony and d ir, the
Gentleman from Pike sprung forwar into the
black mouth of the cavern, gro ing his way
with his hands. No terror couldp dismay him!
He was going to the rescue of her he loved!

Amberleigh, With a mother’s blind devo-
tion and recklessness of danger to self when
called upon to succor her 03 ring, would have
dashed after him, but Cup a Gunnison seized
and detained her. _

“ Not in there! not in there!” he cried, with a
horror that was not born of fear of the Ghost
of the Canyon as his subsequent acts proved.

“ What! what! Keep me from my child?
And she threatened by that awtul rill Let
me go! Let me go, 1 say!” cried t e woman,
strufiling frantically to release herself.

“ do inel Madoline!” cried Captain Gun-
nison, with a despair in his face that vonstraim-d
the attention of the excited woman, “ I implore
you, by all our past association, to yield an in-
stan an un nestioninc, obedience to me in this!
We d I it of you it there were not an
ample reason ’

" oyou think_I fear the danger?” cried the
mother with a wild, scornful laugh. “Let me

go! My childl—my lost darling isoslling'to,

me !”

“ It is not the danger, Madolinel”

“What reason, then, that can keep a mother
bomber ohildl‘ Oh! relax your cruel grasp!”

“I cannot tell on! But, listen! Ryan por-
Ibthm that, will not ante; than ham:

 

 

arm or yours the stronger? See! while you are
detaining me, what may not happen which I
might prevent?”

That consideration conquered her. I

“Go! go! I will remain!" she cried, pushinfi
him forward, in her eagerness. “See! I w'
not move a ste nearer! Go! only go!"

And she sun on her knees, raismg her clasp—
ed hands and streaming eye-.4 to heaven, and
Shilling Ialoud upon God to protect her heart’s

er in

Thug freed from her importunity, Captain
Gunnison turned to the men.

“Light torches!” he commanded; “but do
not enter here! I will kill with my own hand
the man who dares to disobe me in this !”

Then the black mouth of t e cave seemed to
swallow him up.

Small need was there of his last command.
Paralyzed with superstitious dread, the men
drew near toggther while the listened to the
stragge soun that issued mm the hollow
eart .

Would either of those bold adventurers who
had braved the terrors of the Ghost of the Can-
yon ever come forth again alive?

CHAPTER XXXVI‘I.
THE MYSTERY!

FOR minutes that Seemed ages the watchers at
the mouth of the cave waited and listened tothe
muflled sounds made scarcely intelligible by the
hollow echoes. ,

The terrible cries of the Ghost of the Canyon
had died away into low moanings before .the
Gentleman from Pike disappeared from View.
These continued a little w ile after Captain
Gunnison entered.

Then there were sounds of another voice
seemingly raist d in lamentation. A moment
later Captain Gunnison appeared at the mouth
of the cave, demanding a torch.

There was a look of awful horror on his face
which he could not disguise.

The mother seized his arm.

“My child! My child 1” she panted.

“Hush! Remain where you are!” he enjoin-
ed, putting her awa with infinite tenderness,
and lurnin at once re-enter the cave.

The mot er uttered a wild cry.

“0-0 ch] She is dead! She is dead! See!
there is blood on your hands!”

And with a shriek, she fell senseless. ‘

Captain Gunnison shuddered with horror.
Th: re was blood on his hands.

“Take care of her s(me one!” he pleaded.
“I cannot touch her I would stain her with
her child’s blmdl My God! after all these
years, to find her thus!’ I

" Boss, is the An e! dead?” asked Moxy, with
awe and regret in is face and voice.

“ Oh! I don’t know! I don’t know! Do not
detain me! See to her, some of you i” cried
Capt. Gunnison, distractedly.

"Don’t worry, yer honor,” said Tom O’Con-
nor. “ Sure it’s the best attintion we’ll be givin’
her, poor thing i”

And without waiting longer Capt. Gunuison
tore his agonized gaze from the woman whose
pain pierced his heart, and dashed into the
cave.

As he gained the inner chamber and held the
torch above his head, the lurid flames in n mea-
sure dispelled the gloom, disclosing the Gentle-
man trom Pike bending over the senseless, per-
ha’fisJ lifeless, body of a woman.

“P0

 

e agony in his face was terrible to look
11. His iron soul was wrung as no weaker
one could be.
Buthas [€19 fell; 11ng thehface of the wo-
man esar ac w: as c .
“Wh —Great Heaven!—” up 
The man gasped; then struck his hands to-

gether.

“ Thank Godl—thank God i -”

But at that he stopped, shuddering.
changed voice, he wen on:—

“ Mv God! What am I saying?"

Capt. Gunnison gazed at the woman. She
was terribly lacera ted. and apparently dead. But
she bore no resemblance to Mrs. Amberleigh;
Her hair was black. Lilian’s, he knew, was
blonde.

“Who is this?” he asked. “Not her daugh-
ter, surely!”

“No—no,” said the Gentleman from Pike.
“ It is a Mrs. Seaford.”

“The woman whom you suspect of having
procured her abduction?”

It Yes.”

“ She has been overtaken by a terrible fate l”
said Capt. Gunnison, solemnly. ’
. He turned and looked into the shadows at a
little distance; There, faintly discernible in the
uncertain li ht,.lay an object at which even

now he shud ered. '

It lay motionless; but about it still coiled those
hissing serpents. '

Upon c oser' examination Capt. Gunnison
became greatly agitated. .

“It is dead .” he said, at last. “Her (1 er
did the work. It must have‘been a‘ terri
struggle!” ) _

Then he stood motionless, with his eyes fixed
on newer .and his,th  spasmodi-

Ina

 

The Gentleman from Pike.

He was called from his abstraction by the
voice of the Gentleman item Pike. '

“But where is the oor child whom we ex-

ccted to find here? e must look further for
191‘. But where! Ah! I have it! 'We will force
him to confess!”

He avoided the name of Jules St. Auburn.

Capt. Gunnison seemed suddenlyv‘possessed of -
a feverish restlessness. ~

“ Let us search the cave first," he said, rapidly.
“She may be here.” ‘

Even as he spoke; walking forward, the-
Gentlemau from ike uttered a cry and sprung
across the cavorn. .

in an instant he had Lilian Amberleigh in h
arms. A hurried examination showed that she
was only in a swoon.

“ Mine! mine, at last! No earthly power can
separate us now! Thank God! thank God i”

And the man who loved with a strr‘n man’s
love cowred that unconscious face wit tear! -
and kisses.

Capt. Gunnison shared to the full in this trans.
port of delight. Ah! what a glorious sur rise he '
would home for the long-tried mother w en she '
awoke from her swoon! '

“Come on i” cried the Gentleman from Pike,
rising with the woman of his love clasped close
over his heart; and be Would instantly have
home her from the cave. . ' '

Put Capt. Guvnison detained him.

“ Stop! Her mothtr lies in a swoon, thinking ~
her dead! Let us revive her here, so that she ~
can appear alive and well.”

In armament they had brought her to; Her
first act, on opening her eyes, filled the soul of
the Gentltman from Pike with a strain of
the nksgivin that from that moment never .
ceased its 1. essed vibration! Ele clasped him
about the neck with a cry that told him all that
he hurgered to know!

After a moment’s selfish revel in her lovo, he
told her who his strangely-altircd companion
was; and then gently lroke to Ltl' the news of
her mother’s restoration to them.

Atthat she “as ti ansporied with a frenzy of'
delight. She ran forward, clinging to his hand,
how ever. So they emerged from the cave.

What a shout went u l I

It must have startled rs. Amberlcigh’s sln -
nish sensibilities into rcncu(d activity. ng ‘
first cmscitusness was of clinging aims. rap-1
turous Lies, and a voice that sounded like an
angel’s, crying:

‘ Man‘ma! mammal mammal My own dar-
lin !—dorling!—darling!-darli'ngnamma!"" '-

hen her arms closed about her longélost
treasure! ~‘ : > ~

Enough! The pen falters!

Mrs. Amberleigh and her daughter were bur; .
ried away under the escort of Captain Gunni-

scn.

Then the Gentleman from Pike entered the
cavan and bore forth the dead body of '
Seaford. A stretcher was made, and the body
placed igmn it. ’

Tom Connor was then asked to stand guard
over the mouth of the cave, and allow no one to v
enter. He turned a little tie at‘ the thought '
of guarding that unkown J hing alone, but was
at last ‘rcagsurcd by the Gentleman'from Pike,
:vho took him apart and talked to him in a low

one. ‘ =

When the rest cf the parfir were ready‘toset
out for the mining—camp, oxy said, referring
to the Frisco Sharg: '

“ Look a-hyar, oss, what shall we do with
this cuss? Can’t we hang him here, to yonder
pine, as well a cartin’ him into camp!”

Eihen in icy tones the Gentleman from Pike
sa :
“ Let him go!” _

The miners stood agog. _ '

“I am the o grieved party,” said the W“
man from Pi 'e, .sternlv. ‘ Aga I say. 19*
him go! This horse is at his disposal.” " "

Moxv’s hand fcll away from i e prisoner.

The Frisco Sharp stood a. m( menthirresolute, ’
lookin at the man whose magnanimity had re: .
peatc y given him his life, whose eyes had-
never looked at him when avoidable.

“ I have wronged ycu mucli—” ‘

So {who got. , But the. Gentliman from Pike
cut him short. Wlth a furwus stamp of the too
and a muflletl cry of such savage haircd the '
even man Wltlnn sound of his voice.'save only
the Frisco Sharp himself quailcd wi'h dread; ' ‘

Without a word further, Jules St. Auburn
turned, mounted the horse with dimculty, and‘
rode slowly awav. ‘ ' ' ‘

Everybodv‘looked afterhim but the Gentle.
man from Pike, who was already walkingin
the direction of the camp. '

Mrs. Seaford Wasdecently buried. I p

In the darkness of night a man’cam‘e anglaar
for several hours, watering the mm o

mound with his tears. It was the Frisco 
That night Tom O’Connor was relievad‘fi'om
his guard by two shadowy forms. The 
entered the cave; bore forth 8. Something to use
cret burial-in the mountain taslmestes; then in?“
tedlike phantomsbacktocamp. " ' "

 

To the world menu of 11:
WW?“ Ghost of the

 

 

!
!

 

The Gentleman from Pike.

A

.-:--.as.—-~r-r> -—v -r-- r~ ~73

2'7

 

 

Tom O’Connor was speaking. His auditors
were Mrs. Amherleigh and the daughter whom
it seemed as if she would never let for a‘ mo-
ment out of her arms, Cupt. Gunnison, and the
Gentleman from Pike.

“Yes see, ma’am," he was sayi “Musther
Hairkham was a pardner Of mine. knowed he
was wrong in the upper shtory. Sometimes he
had the batin’ O’ the divil in ’um—ooggiu’ yer
pardon, ma’am. But only that he was what ye’d
call a moneymanincn"

“ Monomaniac,” suggested the Gentleman

from Pike.

“ That’s it, sir. Thank yez. It’s the twist o’
the tongue I’m lackln’. Only fur that, as I was.
sayin’ he was all right. .

“Well, whin he ,come to his last legs, his mind
cleared, an’he gives me these apel's.

“ ‘ Amarri ecertiflcate an an acknowledg-
ment ez m nd, Tom,’ says he. ‘ lt’ll undo a
wrong-t tin Ine delusion ——whativer that is,
I dunno—‘ it‘ll undo a wrong that in me delu-
sion,’ says he, ‘1 have done me darlin’ Wolfe.
Hunt her up, Tom an’ take a thousand dollars
over and above all yer expinses out 0‘ me pile,

vin’ the rest to her an’ the child.’ says he.

’ year ’u’d have but to see him to know that
he was that grieved he was ready to break. his

“Well I promised; and thin we laid him
awa . n’ would yez belave itl—that week
the juns cleaned out our camp; fur that was
a thrick they did more than wanst in thim
da 3. I got wid me life but niver a clot 0’
go d. An’ from that day to this I’ve niver had.
enoug together to o to the States an’ hunt up
yer la yship: ur, b’ ave me, Pd ’a’ done it!

“A? Misfire“ Lilian, here, had had her fa-
ther’s handle, wouldn't I have ‘ven her the

pet‘s Engage? But how ivoul I know that
fl‘isthress Amberleigh was Musther Mairk-
ham’s daughter?”

Suchw the story which told Mrs. Amber-
lei h and er daughter that the husband and
is or had injured them when mental aberra-
tion made him irresponsible This, the only es-
sential was strict] true. They mourned
him wi h'a sense of grat tude that now no re-
proach clouded his memory.

Was it not wisest so?

Surrounded by the grand old peaks of the
Sierras domed by the star-gemmed‘ heavens,
Q; t. Gunnison stood in the ceful night,
wi h his arms about the woman e had loved so
long, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her
lips pressed warm to his l

“ One question, dear Will, before we bu the
subject forever. VWhy have you never pun shed
him for the wrongs he has inflicted on you i”

The voice of the Gentleman from ike was
deep and constrained, as he. replied :— ‘

“ He I my half-brother! Whenever I
raised my and against him, he looked at me
With my mother’s eyes! I could not look into
them and strike!

“ But the past is dead! Lotus look into the
glowing future 1" _

’ His manner changed. A great flood of happil-
ness banished the shadows tram his face, as e
clasped to his heart the Woman whose love

ll I .
@de “1411'le END.

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"per glwAys- has; hence for HOHE,:SHO}3, LI.
DEAD! and GENERAL READER it is without a.
swarms its greatand'stsadily increasing

 

 

 

circulation.
' The _ TgEDAY JOURNAL is. sold everywhere
byné '
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rates. viz:

Four months, one dollar; one year, three
dollars: or. two copies, five dollars.

We. BEADLE & ADAMS. Publishers, _
SQ William Street. New York.

' ’ ore; price six cents per-number; orto'

 

Half-Dime Singer’s Library

1 WEOA, Emmi and 59 other Songs.
2 CAPTAIN Corn and 57 other Songs.
.3 THE GAINsaono' HAT and 62 other Songs.
4 JOHNNY MORGAN and 60 other Songs.
5 I'm. STRIKE YOU WITE A FEATHER and 62 others.
ll GEORGE THE CHARMER and 56 other Songs.
7 THE BELLE OE ROCKAWAY, and 52 other Son s.
8 YOUNG FELLAH, YOU‘RE 'l‘oo FnEsn and 00 at as.
9 Snv YOUNG Gnu. and 65 other Songs.
10 I‘ll TEE GOVERNOR’S ONLY SON and 58 other Songs.
11 My FAN and 55 other So 5.
12 COAIIN‘ Tnao' TEE RYE an 55 other Songs.
I?! THE ROLLICKING IRISHMAN and 59 other Songs.
14 OLD DOG TRAY and 62 other Songs.
15 WEOA, CHARLIE and 59 other Songs.
16 IN Tms WHEAT BY AND Br and other Songs.
17 NANCY LEE, and 58 other Son 5. i
18 I'M TEE Boy THAT’S BOUND To LAZE and 57 others.
19 TEE Two Olil'BANH and 59 other Songs.
20 WHAT ARE TEE WILD WAVES Sumo, Emma?
and 59 other songs.
21 INDIONANT POLLY Woo and 59 other Songs.
2a.) TEE OLD Aim-CEAIE and 58 other Songs.
m ON CoNEv ISLAND BEACH and 58 other Songs.
84 OLD SIMON. TEE HOT-CORN MAN and 60 others.
25 I’M IN LOVE and 56 other Songs.
2;} PARADE or TEE GUAnDs and 56 other Songs.
‘37 Yo, HEAVE, Ho! and 60 other Songs.
28 ‘wau. NEVER Do To Gm IT UP So and 60 others.
29 BLUE BONNETs OVER THE BORDER. and 54. others.
30 TEE Manny LAUGHING MAN and 56 other Songs.
81 SWEET FORGET-ME-No'rnnd 55iother Songs.
32 LEETLE BABY MINE and 53 other Songs.
33 DE BANJO AM DE INSTRUMENT EOE ME and 53 others.
34 T‘Arr'r and 50 other Songs. ,
35 JUST To PLEAEE TEE Bors and 52 other Songs.
36 SKATING ON ONE IN TEE GUTTEE and 52 others.
37 KOLOEED minors and 59 other Songs.
38 NIL DEerEANDUM and 58,0 er Songs.
89 TEE GIEI. I LEs'r BEEIND E and 50 other Songs.
40 'TIs Eur A LITTLE FADED FLOWER and 50 others.
41 FEET“ Wmnmnrs and 60 other Songs. ‘ ‘
42 DANCING IN TEE BARN and 68 other Son s.
48 H. M. S. PINAEOEE, consume, and 11 O or Songs

Sold everywhere by Newsdealers, at five cents
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BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLIEEEEE,
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Waverley Library.

1 Tan MAsEED BRIDE. By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell.
2 WAs IT LOVE! By Wm. Mason Tamer.

8 TEE Gnu. WIFE. B Bartley '1‘. Campbell.

4 A BEAVE HEAET. yNArabella Southworth.
5 era Ramon, TEE OEE Gnu. Wm. M. Turner
3 TEE SEOEET MARRIAGE. B Sara Claxton.‘

8

 

 

 

DAUGETEE or EVE. B rs. Mary Reed Crowell. '

A

HEART To BEAET. By rubella Southworth.
9 ALONE IN TEI'WORLD. I]? Author of “Gifted.”
10 A PAIR or GRAY LYES. y Rose Kennedy.
11 ENTANOEED. By Henrietta Thackerasy.
12 Km LAws'UI. WIFE. B Mrs. Ann S. tephens.
13 MADOAr THE LITTLE UAEEnEss. By Cushman.
1i WHY I MARRIED Hm. By Sara Clsxlon. ‘
15 A FAIE FAOE. By Bartley T. Cam bell.
16 TRUST HEN. NOT. By Margaret Le caster.
17 A Low. LOVER. By Arabella Southworlh.
18 HIS IDOL. B Mrs. Mary Crowell.
l9 TEE BonEN ETEOTEAL. By Mary Grace Halplne.
20 021mm NEH... TEE ORANGE Gnu. By Agile Penna.
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R2 TEE BRIDE 0!} AN AcToa. By Author of “Clifton.”
23 LEAP YEAR. Bv Sara Cla‘xton.
94 RED FACE WAs BEE FORTUNE
ONLY A ScaoomsTEEss. Arabella Sonthworth.
WITI'O'UT A HEART. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
Wu SEE A 0 ma? By Henrietta Thackeray.
Sven. CEAsE. g Mrs. Ann S. Ste hens.
FOE Hun DEAR ARE. 1 y Sara 0 sxton.
TEE BOUQUET Gnu. BflAgile Penne.
A MAD MARRIAGE. B ary A. Dennison.
‘lA. Snuthworth.

em n . a

84 A MAEEIAGE or CONVENIENCE. By Sergeiucon,
85 Sme AGAINs'r. By Clara Augusta.
35 SIR. AncEEn's BRIDE. Bg Arabella Southworth.
87 TEE COUNTRY Cousm. Rose Kennedy.
88 His OWN AGAIN. By Are No Southworth.
39 FLIETATION. By Ralph Royal.
40 PLEDGE!) To MAEEY. By Sara. Claxton.
41 BLIND DavOTIoN. By Ailee Flemin .
42 BEATRICE, TEE BEAUTIEDL. B A. fianthwom,
48 TEE BAEONET’SI SEOEET. By gm crayon.
44 THE ONLY DAI'GETEE. By Alice Fleming.
45 Han HIDDEN FOE. By Arabella Southworth.
46 TEE LITTLE HEIEEss. By Mrs. M. A, Demmm

,4 ‘W -

48 IN SPITE or HENEELE. By S.

49 Hrs H EART‘E' Bv Arabella Bouthworth.

50 TEE CDEAN HmEss. rs. Marv A. Denison.

51 Two Yomm GIRLS. By Alice Fleming.

52 TEE WINGED MEssENOE-n. By Mrs. M. R. Crowell.

53 AONEs HOPE, THE ACT-Essa. By Wm. M. Turner.

54 on WOMAN s HEART. Bv George S. Kaime.

55 Fan DID NOT Low. HnI. By A. Soutth h.

56 LOVE-MAD. By William Mason "urner, . D.

2% i 3‘33? ad‘s.
BE ON' A . . - IT

 mpsz WILEs. By Rachel Berwrdt.

r '9 DEMIT. By Mm.rJennle~ via Burton.

61 A menn HEART. Bv Sara. Claxton.

.mmamm lay-Mama.

A new issue every week.

For sale by all Newsdeslers, price nve cents ouch.
or sent, postage paid, on receipt of six cents.

BEAN-E AND ADAMS, Publishers.
II  WWW “W‘h  Y‘

$38138388

ONNA. B

- co
Sherwo .

cover a wide rnrge of subj

 

BEADLE & ADAMS’

STANDARD MLNBWTMS.

Speakers.
BEADLE AND Anus ave nowon their lists the fola
lowing highly desirable and attractive textbook,
prepared express] ' for schools, families, etc.
volume contains 1d) large page: printed from clear,
open ty 8, comprisin the st collection of Dia-
logues ramas and ecitations, (burlestaig, comic
herwise.) The Dime Speakers for
of in sanow issued -embraco twenty.-
volumee, Viz.:
1. American Speaker. 18. School Speaker.

2. National. 1'. 4. ludicrous Speaker.
3. Patriotic pea er. 15. Komikal Speaker.

4. Comic Speaker. 16. Youth‘s Sgeaker.

5. Elocutionist. 17. E10 uont gather.

6. Humorous Speaker. 16. Hal Colum laSpeak-
7. Standard Speaker. er.

8. Stump Speaker. , 19. Serio-Comlc Speaker.
9. Juvenile Speaker. 20. Select S eaker.

10. Spread-Eagle Speaker; 21. Funny peaker.

ll. Dime Debater. 22. J01] S eaker.

12. Exhibition Speaker. 28 Dl ectg (if.

for the
ihitlon, for Homes; etc. They
contain some of
Declamv

These books are replete with choice p
School-room, the Ex

e drawn from msnsonrces, and
t e drolcest oratory of the times. , 75 to mo
tions and Recitations in each book.

Dialo es.
The Dime Dialogues. one volume 100 m m.

brace twenty-seven books viz..
Dialogues N 0. One. Dialogues NO. Fourteen.
Dialogues No. Two ialogues No. II

Dialogues No. Sixteen.
Dialogues No. Seventeen.
Dialogues No. Eighteen
Dialogues No. Nineteen.
Dialogues No. Twenty.

No. Twenty-one.
No. Tweniytwo.
No. Twenty-three
No. Twenty-four.

Dialogues No. Three.
Dialogues No. Four.
Dialogues No. Five.
Dialogues No. Six.
Dialogues No. Seven.
Dialogues No. Eight.
Dialogues No. Nine.
Dialogues No. Ten.
Dialogues NO. Eleven.
Dialogues No. Twelve. No. Twenty-five.
Dialogues No. Thirteen. No. Twenty-six.
Dialogues No. Twenty-seven.
T115 to asle es aggeDI-amos indealciltlhbook.ci 1
ese vo umes ave u re are w es a

reference to their arailabilgy n all school-mgr“.
They are adapted to schools with or without the fur-
niture of a stage, and introduce a o charac-
ters suited to scholars of every grade, th male and
female. It is fair to assume that no-volumes yet
offered to schools, at any price, contain so many
available and useful dialogues and dramas, serious

  

 

and comic.

Drama and Readings.
164 121110 Pages. 20 Cents.

For Schools, Parlo s Entertainments and the Am-
ateur S e, compris Original Minor Dramas,
Comedy, arce, D ess oces Humorous Dialogue
and Burlesque, by ioted writers: and Recitations
and , v new ind standard, of the firestorm
celebrity interest. Edited by Prof. A. ill. ussell.

DIME HAND-BOOKS.

Young! People’s Series.
BEADLE’s DIEE HAND-Booze son. Yonso Prom

acts, and are es is)
adapted to their end. They constitute at are: all.

cheapest and 'most useful work; yet put into the
market for pay!“ cirou tion. ‘

Lsdies' Let r- riter. Book of Games.

Gents‘ letter-Writer. Fortune-Teller.

Boolnof Etiquette. Lovers‘ Casket.

Beok of Verses. Ball-room Companion.
Book of Brenda. Book of Beauty.

good-Books of Games.

BEADws DmVHAND-BOOKB or GAEns AED Puma
'D-BoOEs cover a varietydd subjects, and are es-

ially ada ted to their all .
$1: of o fiangbwk of suirnmfh swaltui'aowl
ue . ac .
Chess Instrlaqctor. Ridingxrlignd Driving.“g
Cricket and Football. Book. of Pedestflanisln.
Guide to Swimming. Base- Player.
Handbook of 'inter Sports.

Manuals for Housewives.

BEADu‘s Dnm FAEmr SERIES aims supply“
class of magma? :xguilanusls nttideyneg pox-E
son‘s use— e e on i as an
the unlearned. They are of {onggded value

1. Cook Book. 4. Fami new.
a. Recipe Book. 5. Dressml! Pb and
. Housekeeper’s Guide. linery.

 

Lives of Great Americans
A nted d biogra
Ofmmgfif themglm havgua'tgdggfiuster  '
Be .11. ,c by their lives-Hiddeeds. The series em-

I.—-Geo e W h n. VII—David k
IT.—-Johthsufi'lon ‘ VIII—Israel 
TIL—Mad AnthonyWayne Dr.—Kit Carson.
W.—Eths.n-' ' ' I x.—'l‘ecmnseh.
V.—M:tr&uis do Lafay- XI.——Abraham Lincoln.
v1._mnrei Boone. XIII—Ulysses a Grant.

 

one BOOKS.
BEADLE's DIIIE SONG BOOKS Nosrltto swoonmgig

Wintergreen °¥ 
- mm Weenies-TA , _,

JOKE BOOKS.
Pocket Joke Book. .11 Crow .1 Book.
Paddy Whack Joke rBook. Oh

The above publications for sale by all new“
orwillbesent. est-aid onrecei erodes,
EEADLE & A?A§(E. is New» 2.3:. r t'

 

- THE POPULAR AND
School, Exhibition and 1

STANDARD BOOKS

Home Entertainment

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 m I PARTON,
5 non-l. } PHILLIPS.
lvnm, EX   BARGEANT.
mun,  E mom
m LINCOLN,
um. 1 Q , WASHINGTON, 
flat“ é JEFFERSON.
L1 V '
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mummy. SHERIDAN.
M ER
mm THE OST ATTRACTWE S IES, m,
. IIAD‘ 7 BURKE,
“0 V2 ix IVS
“I. OPW'CUS C. KERR,
mum . -Ol— I ‘
N Dechmatione. rut-cog, ms 0 REILLY
MI Recitation. Notable Passages, Dialogues, Minor Drums. GEO. F. TRAIN.
Ilium Speeches. Extempore 3901'“. Colloquies. Acting Chas-Eden. mom"
can an“ Omtione, Addreues. Burlesque; Dre“ Piecee. DICKENS.
CARL PM m m m 0' SIDNEY SMITH,
) ,0“ a". Wit, Humor, Burlesque, Satire, Eloquence and Argument, TOM HOOD.
Iron '
- Emu . , , , JERBOLD.
( .
mm. Schools, Exhibitions € Amateur Theatricals. mm
a, min. ' HOLT.
a, mum. THE DIME SPEAKERS. I max. V
{ 305m  gunman   gaunng Stun; 30m“
In Anon“. mm um 00!. mm ,
(I. "Amm'  53111030 8mm  DPLUICEOUEKSPEAEILS mom
- nu ma mum in. TZIL'B mum um mm
} RANDOM  Emmonigr. fiF—gmn Iiglouim's SIéEAKEn. P ‘
= u“) I In: UIwIwU- rum — nu: UIN'I' mun. m
mom 7—Dnn: Gunman Sum; 18—Dqu H13: Cowman. Sm COLL
my, l—Dnn 81mm SPEAK“. IQ—Dm SEnIo-Comc SPIAKII. mm
t—Dntl JUVENILE Sum w—Dm SELEUT SPEAK“.
\ 331.108.0001 iii—Dun SPRIAD-EAGLI MAUI. . m—Dm FUNNY Svum ANNA DICKINSON.
J n-Dnn Dmm um Cmux’s Gm Bib—Dun: JOLLY Srnnn.
m 23—Dqu Duucr SHAKER. "33' “mm
DURm Inch Speaker. 11!) page: 13mm. containing from no to 1B pineal. m 0
mm, THE DIME DIALOGUES rmmnv
' Are filled with ari 'nei end all reputed contriouflonn from favorite end papal '
“ADELER.  for the  em; boo]y tuge—giviiililgsigon takt' :xnfibtigectiu dininfii: Gmm' '
ur u soon. omutie tea-can, drea- m on drunu
mu: TWAIN. anymoaugcflagtger 3m. N “Am .
00m 600". Dnm DlAme Nmnn On Dun DIAIDGU‘I! Nmn Noun. SCEURZ.
DIME DIALOGUE: NUIBER Two. Dnn: DumGUEs NUMBER F‘Immx.
nonsncxs, DmE DuwGUEs NUIEEE Tam DIME DIALOGUES NUMBER SIx'rEEIc. mm
DntE DIALOGUE! NUIBEII F'OUI. bum DIAIDGUEI NUMBEE SIVINTEIN, mu.
CARLYLE. gnu: DDIAIDOUIS gunman gm D Fog“. N E BISHOP WHIPPI-E
‘ no ume mum Ix. um ume mum mama. '
“CAUMY. Bun: BIAmGom gonna  Bin BIAIDGUEE gamma. ggznrm BEV- DR- W00“
nu: “1000B mm min. In IAIDGUEB UMBER urn. - .
“WWW. Dun: DnmGUEa Nmu NINI .DmE DIAWUEB NUMBER TWENTY-0n DRNADm'
m Dru DumGUEs Nmrn TEN; Dun: DIALOGUIS NUMBER Twnm—a‘wo. my”.
‘ I Dun: Dume Nmmn ELEV“. Dunn DuwGUEa NUMBER TWENTY-man '
mm Dun DIALOGUE NunEn TWILVI. Dun: DIALOGin NUMBER TWENTY-Eon mm,
Dm Duncan: Nun“. Tmmn. Dun: Dumem Nmm Twas-flaw;
HILTON, Each volume, 1mm 1mm, oonteining from 15 to 25 pieces. SPURGEON,
3mm, BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St., N. Y. 30550“
BURNS. BUM ‘
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I. I. TAYIDR, FAT CONTRIBUTOR, MAGOON. DUGANN‘E, PERCIVAL STEPHENS,
“091M”, DANBURY NEWS. REV. DB. ml. LOWELL. DANA, HENRY CLAY.
ALDRICH. DETROIT FREE PRESS. SCUDDEB, BAYLED TAYLOR. JOHN NEAL W
_ moms. HAWKEYE. Dom ’ POE. OSGOOD. may,
J0! Jdl‘. J3. BEN MN. 3mm. I. I. HALE, NAZI. 60m
m ’ W 7 A F
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"i

, ,_ ,_A

.‘i.

1}.“

Beadle & Al'dams’ Standard Dime Publications.

 

Speakers.
’ Item 4141: Anus have now on their lists the fol-
bwing highly desirable and attractive text-book;
p e for schools, families, etc. Each
volume contains 1% large 1pa es, prin’lsd from clear,
open t , comprisin t e t collectzoi; 0! Dia-
logues ’33....” and itations, (buries us, comic
and otherwise.) The Dime Speakers for e SWISOD
i of 1880—as tar as now issued—embrace twenty-thee

olumes viz.:
iE American Speaker. I 13. School Speaker.
; National Speaker. 14. Ludicrous Speaker.
,1 1 Patriotic Speaker. 15. Komikal Speaker.
4. Comic Speaker. 16. Youth‘s S er.

5. Elocutionist. 17. Bio uent p’eaker.
18. Hal Colum iaSpeak-

6. Humorous Speaker.
7. Standard Speaker. 19 8 er. 0 m1 8
. eno- o c peaker.
20. Selects eaker.

8 Stump Speaker.
8 Juvenile Speaker.

4). S read-Eagle Speaker 21. Funny peaker.
11. D e Debater. 22. Joli S eaker.
19. Exhibition Speaker. 23. D ectg er.

These books are re lots with choice 1; eces for the
School-room, the bition. for Homes, etc. They
are drawn from men sources, and contain some .‘\f
the choicest oratory of the times. 75 to 100 Declara-
tions and Recitations in each book.

: Dialogues.

The Dime Dialo es, each volume no pages, em-
twenty-six ligolhks. : ‘

       

No. One. No. Fourteen.

No. Two. N0. 11.

No. Three. No. Sixteen.

No. Four. No. Seventeen.

No. Five. No. Eighteen

No. Six. No. Nineteen.

No. Sev No. Twenty.

No. Eight. No. Twenty-one.

No. Nine. No. Twenty-two.

No. Ten. No. Twenty-three

No. Eleven. No.Twenty-tour.

No. Twelve. No. Twenty~flve.
Dialogues No. Thirteen No. Twenty-six.

15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book.

These volumes have been refined with especial
reference to their availabilgy all school-rooms.
[hey are adapted to schools with or without the fur-
niture of a stage. and introduces rang: of charac-
ters suited to scholars of every e, th male and
lemale. It is fair to assume hat no volumes yet
)fiered to schools, at any price, contain so many
ivfiilableand useful dialogues and dramas, serious
\11 comic.

Brands and Readings.
164 121110 Pages. 20 Cents.

For Schools, Par 0 s, Entertainments and the Am- l 143- sagamm‘e 0‘ 830°-

dieul‘ S e, comprism . Original Minor Dramas.
Comedy,‘ arce. D ess ieces Humorous Dialogue
and Burlesque, by noted writers; and Recitations
and Readings. new and stander of the reatest
ieiebrityan inter; t. Edited by All. useeil.

DIME , AND-BOOKS.

Young People’s Series.
mom‘s Dina- HAND-Boots ma Your-o Poem
never a wide mu ga of subjects, and are especially
adapted to their end. They constitute at once the
cheapest and most useful works yet put into the
market for pop‘l ar circulation.
Ladles’ Letter-Writer. Book of Games.
Gents' Letter-Writer. FortuneTelier.

 

Book of Etiquette. Lovers' Casket.
Book of Verses. Ball-room Companion.
Book of Dreams. Book of Beauty.

Hand-Books of Games.

Dunn's Darn Hum-Boone or Gauss All!) Porous
Burn-Boone cover a variety of subJects, and are es-
seci

ted to their end.

andhook of Summer Sports.
Book of Croquet. Yachting and Rowinp.
Chess Instructor. Riihng and Driving.
Cricket and Football. Book of Pedestrianism
Guide to Swimming. ‘ Base-Bail Player.

Handbook of inter Sports.

Manuals for Housewives.

Scanners Diun FAMILY SERIES aims to supply a,
class or text-books and manuals fitted for every per-
son’s use—the old and the young the learned and
the unleamed. They are of conceded value.

1. Cook Book. 4. Family Physician.
‘- MP6 300k. 5. Dressmakmg and M11-
t Housekeeper's Guide. linery.

 

Lives of Great Americans
are presented complete and authentic biograpnles
at man of the men who have added luster to the
Republ c by their lives and deeds. The series em-
braces-

1,—George Washington. VII—David Crockett.
ll.—Johu Paul Jone). Vim—lame] Putnam.
LIL—Mad AnthonyWay'ne nt.—Kit Ca mu.
' W.—-Ethan Allen. ~Tecurnseh.
V.-—Marquis de Laby- XI.—Abraham Lincoln.
ette. XII.—Pontiac.
_ Ila-Daniel Boone. .—Ulysses S. Grant.

The above publication: ({01‘ sale (1:31:21 ntewsgealer
. . win " - on re 0
Wow E‘vvw s». s. vp °°'- ’

 

I :15. The Sons of Liberty.

 

! 121. Veiled Benefactress.

 

 

131N111} N() VELS.
Incomparable in iv-I-e'rlt.
Unapproachnble In Price.

9‘ Be ve
with those 0
rice.

careful not to confound these books
other publishers, sold at the same
The vast success of the Dime Novels called

to existence “Ten Cent Novels." which the ublic

, is sometimes deceived in buying as Dime

ovels.

The only Dime Novels are those published by Bun“
an) Anus, whose copyright trade-mark ant signet
the word “ Dime " Novel is. Ask always for Blunts
Dime Novels. and you will then get what you vish.

The 10110
published.

a firivsteer’s Cruise.
9. Tlgglave Sculptor.

10. The Backwoods Bride 88

11. Prisoner LaVintresse
14. Emerald Necklace.
16. Uncle Ezekiel.

17; Mad e Wilde.

22. The d of Esopus.
88. Winifred Winthrop.
 The Peon Prince.

8.. double Here.
a. trans.

88. Maud.- Guinea.
 erie.

file.

i

S

w
5%.

,

Ie‘et.
an.
n." -‘hter£Jo

es alkland.

. Ti refill eithe Albion.
. m uni e s Charge
. Hats; and Loves.

e.
. fimo's Plot.
The Unknown.
The Indian Princess.
rs oi Mohawk.
. The recker’s Prize.
The an Queen.
Dee

afigggggfiafil‘éfi?

..
.39

116. Port at Last.
118. The Water Wait.

128. The Missing Bride.
139. The Border Fees.

9

858. Antelope Abe.

 

 

comprise a complete list M iv es
umbers omitted are out at print.

866. Dingle. the Outlaw.
867. The G
868. M

Trailer.

. hantom Horseman.

§§§

. The Black Wizard.
Th H

§§§§§§§§§

§

5%

First Trail.
Sheet-Anchor ‘l'om.
405. Old Avoirdupois.
%. ghitggladiator.
. ue p .
Red Damper

 

e
410. Blackhawk,
411. The Lost Ship.
412. Black Arrow.
418. WhiteSe out.

284. TheYoung S y.
.289. The Balloon uts. 414. The Lost aptain.
292. Black John. 415. The Twin Trailers.
898. The Tonkawa Spy. 416. Death‘s-head Rs 3‘
298. The Hussar Captain. 41?. Captain of Capt .
801. .llustangSam. 418. Warrior cess.
ans. 3iass‘lilye. 419. The Blue
iii micknfia‘il’fi 1. 4 9 113° 888: 833.1% ”
. e to or 00. . e ‘
814 Rival Lieutenants. 422. Sonora Ben.
816. urrlcane 428. The Sea
822’ Old Grizz 4744. Mountain G
823. Dashing ns. Death Trailer.
824. Will-o'-the;\ isp. 428 Crested Se nt.
825. Dashing Dick. 427 Arkansas t.
826. Old Crossfire. . The Corsair Prince.
827. Ben Bramble. _ 420. Ethan Allen‘s Rifles.
828. The Brigand Captain 480. Little Thunderbolt.
M9. Old Strata . 431. The Falcon Rover.
880. Gray Hair, eChief. 482. Honest Hand.
881. The Prairie Tigers. 488. The Stone Chief.-
8112. The Rival Hunters. 434. The Gold Demon.
838. The Texan Scout. 435. Eutawan the Slayer
3...”?- ZMerrnzek- iii- l‘rked “.2:-
. essenger. . e ons tors.
886. Merge? the Pirate. . Swiftwin I.)
887. The Sply. 489. Caribou Eip.
888. Table. he raller. 440. The Privateer.
359. The Boy Chief. 441. The BlackeSip .
840. Tim, the Trailer. 442. The Doom Hunter.
841. Red Ax. 448. Barden, the Ranger.
842. Stella theS y. 444. The Gra Scalp.
843. The White venger. 445. The Paddler Spy
814. The Indian King. 4-16. The White Canoe.
845. The Loni: Trail. 447. E h eters.
846. Kirk t e Guide. 448. e'l‘wo Hunters.
847. The Phantom Trail. 449. The Traitor spy.
848. The A che Guide. 450. The Gray Hunter.
349. The ad Miner. 451‘. Little Moccasin.
350. Keen Eye. theRanger 452. The White Hermit.
351. Blue Belt. Guide. 458. The Island Bride.
852. On the Trail. 454. The Forest Princess.
8113, The Specter-Spy. 455. The Trail Huntels.
854. Old Bald He . 456. Backwoods Banditti.
855. Red Knife Chief. 457 Ruby Roland.
856, Sib Cone, Trapper. 458. Laughing Eyes.
8517, The Bear Hunter. 459. Mohegan Maiden.
858. Bushful 131% Stpy. 480. The Quaker Scout.
859. The White 1h of. 461. Sumter‘sScouts.
850. Cortina, Scourge. 482. The Five Cham om.
861. The Squaw Spy. 488. The Two G
862, Scout of ’76 464. iindaro.
363. S nish Jack. 466. 0b Ruskin
861. 1mm Spy. 4611. The Rival ‘Ro'sl'l.
Us. ' kc. Ron '4”. Ned Stalin.

 

488. Single Hand.

no. The Black Prince-
409. Tippy, the Texan. 481. The White Brave.

470. Youn Musta r. 483 Riflemenoithewmn
471. The unted e. 488. The Moose Hunter.
4 . The BuflaloTrapper. 484. The Brigantine.
478. Old Zip. 485. Put.Pomfret_'s Wan
474. Foghorn Phil. 486. Sun le Phil.

475. Mossfoot, the Brave. 487. Jo aviess‘ Client.
476. Snow-Bird 488. Ruth Harland.

477. The Dragoon's Bride 4811. The Gulch Miner's.
478. Old Honesty. 490. Captain Molly.
479. Bald Eagle. Others in

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8. Dead S at. 88. The Indian Scout.
8. eBo Miners. 89. The Girl Aven er.
4. Blue D ck. . The Red Herm tees.
5. Nat Wolfe. 91. Star-Face, the Slayer
1. The White Tracker. 93. The Antelope Boy.
The Outlaw’s Wife. 98. The Phantom Hunts
8. The Tall Trapper. 94. Tom Pintie the Pilot
9. tn Jo. as. The Red Wizard.
10. Tl e Island Pirate. 96. The Rival Trapper.
11. Tin Boy Ranger. 97. The SqBaw Spy.
18. Les the Tra per. 98. Dusky ick.
18. The. nch py. 99. Colonel Crocketa
14. long Shot. 100. Old Bear Paw.
15. Guninuker of Border. 101. Redlaw.
18. Red Band. 102. Wild Rube.
17. Ben the Tra r. 103. The Indian Human
18. Wild Raven. n or. 104. rred Eagle.
19. The S ter Chlefi' . 105. Nick 13th
£0. The fi-Killer. l 106. The In 11 Spy.
531. Wild Nat. 1m. Job Dean.
89. Indian Jo, the Guide. 108. The Wood 
28. Old Kent the Ranger. 109. The Scalped un
84. One-Eyed Trapper. 110. Nick the Scout.
’5. Godbo d. the Spy. 111. The exas .
88. The Black Ship. 112 The Crossed nivee
81'. Single 142i; 118 Tiger Heart, a
28. Indian .1 114. eMasked Average:
29. The Scout. 115. The Pearl Pirates.
80. Eagle Eye. 116. Black Panther.
81. The Mystic Canoe. 117. Abdiehhthe Avenger
82. The Golden Harpoon. 118. Cato t e Crew.
.53. The Scalp Kim. 119. Two-Handed t.
84. Old Lute. 120. Mad Trail Hunter.
35. Rainbolt, the at. user. 121. Black Nick.
86. The Boy Piotew, 122. .
87. Carson. the Goal. 128. The S eater-Riders
88. The HearirEatei. 124. to.
89. Wetzel, the Scout. 1%. The Girl Caitlin
40. The Bu Hunter. 126. ankee Ep
41. Wild Na theTrapper 127.Silver;1pur.‘ ‘
45:. nx-caP. 1128. 8%“
48. T eWhteOutiaw. 129.1‘ eChildSpy.
44. The Dog Trailer. 180. Mink Cost.
4 Adi 1Elk th ' t.  won‘igw‘i'nnu
1.. -nn. e o e, e
47 The Dian-hunter. 188. The Cache.
48. The Phantom Tracker 184. The ni
49. Moccasin Bill.

185. .
50. '1‘! e Well can. fail. Scarlet Moccasin
51. mm Fiku er. :67. .‘i‘dne
58. The Mad (Thief.

 

 

 

51. Arkansas 1 . Bord 
55. Blackbeard. . 141. 'l‘heMute Chief. '
58. The River Rifles. 141:. Boone. the Human
5i. miter Hum. .148 Nountlin Ks”.
5b. Cloudwood. 144. TheRed .
59. the Texas Hawks. ‘ The Lone C
80. Mercile List. 146. The Silver 9.
51. Mad Anthony'sScouis 147. Ch atbeChe en.
58. 'l'he...nclelees 148. The angled'l‘geil.
88. The Florida Scou . 149. The Unseen Hand.
% abolistinnd Trapper.  gins gouge-Edison.
o - a . e ran ran
86. Iattliu lot. 158 Bi Bow
87. Sher - e. 158. The Valley
68. iron- and. 154. RedJacht.
69. The Yellow Hunter. 155. The Jungle Scout.
70. The Phantom Rider. 156. The Cherokee Ohio!
71. Delaware l‘om. 157. il'he Bandit Hermit.
72. Silver Rifle. 158. The Patriot Scouts.
711 The Skeleton Scout. 159. The Wood
74. Little Rifle. no. The Red Fee.
75. The Wood Witch. 101. Beautiful Unknown ,
76. Old Rui'l'. the Trap . 162. Cenebrake Mose.
77. The Scarlet Shou e.‘ 1988. Hank, the Guide.
78. The Border Riflemnn. 164. The Border Scout.
3- emigre... . u in r. ....
. l 1' no -. s
81. Jesseth Dealer. . 187. The Threea the.
82. Kenton, the Ranger. 168. The Lost hull .
gig. -= r Hofiemsn.  $rdfifllaw.
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88. "he Hunter hammer. 1178. The Wren a,“
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43 A WOMAN‘s HEART.

 

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46 A WOMAN'S HAND. Autlioro “Dead Letter." 100
47 VIALs OEWEATE. By Mrs. MaryReedCrowelL. 10¢
48 A WILD GIRL. By Corinne Cushmam . 100

49 TEE MADDEsr MARRIAGE EVER. WAs. Burton. 10::
50 LOVE INAMAZE. By Mrs.E. F.Ellet.......... We
51 CATnoLINA. By Dr. J. H. Robinson... . . . . . .. 100

1 WAs SEE His WIFE? Mrs. Mary R. Crowell.... we.
2 FLEEING FROM LOVE. By Harriet Irving. . . . . . 10c

3 DID HE LOVE HER? Barney T.
4 A STRANGE WOMAN. By Rett Winwood.
6 Two GINLs‘ LIVEs. By Mrs. Mary R. Crowell.. we
9 THE WAD. or HEARTS. Corinne Cushmnn. . . .. 100

11 TIIE FALSE WIDOW. Mrs. J. D. Burton. .... .. 100
12-13 LosT EOE LOVE. Miss M. E. Braddon . . . . . .. 10c
14-15 TOILEEE or THE SEA. By Victor Hugo. . . . .. 10c

16 THE QCADROON. By Cathlu'lnGA Warfleld.... 100
17-18 UNCLESILAE. By J. S. LeFEnu  
19-20 DEAD-SEA FEUIT. Miss M. E. Braddon. ..
21-22 LITTLE KATE KIRBY. F. W. Robinson" . . . .. 10c
23 SOWING THE WIND. Mrs. Mary R. Crowel]. .. .. 10c

Ellis. J. D. Burton ..... .. 10:: I
g M. E. O. Malen. .. .. 100
35 ANNIE TEMPLE. By ev. J. H. In nhsm..  100
86 ‘Vl’l‘llolf'l‘ MERCY. By Bartley T. ampbell. . 10c
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88 BRAVE BAIIEAEA. By Corinne Cushman .
89 A DANGEnous WOMAN. By Margaret Blount... mo
40 OUIDA’s LOVE. By Henrietta E. De Condo ..
41 LOST: A WIFE. ByCorinne Cushman... 
42 WINNING WAYS. By Margaret Blount . . we
‘4 T D L BBy MRV.Vigor...
HE EAD ETrEE. y ey e s r.
a 0. Mi“

Campbell...“ 100_
.10c

100
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72TH}:

 

so DIVOEOED BUT
Braeme.. 1

 

Dan hter . . . . ..   ..  
YSTERIOUS GUARDIAN. Corinne Cushman 1
78 WAS SEE A WIFE. ..
74 ADRIA, THE ADOPTED. By Jennie D. Burton” 1013
75 PRETTY AND PROUD. By Corinne Cushman. .
76 Tm‘ Bfl'iER FEUD. By
77 A WOMAN‘s WORK. B
78 THE BLACK RIDDLE;
79 CORAL AND RUBY; or,
Life Time. B

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55 A STRANGE GIRL. By Albert W. Aiken. .. 
as THE PRETTY PURITAN. By Parson‘s Daughter.. 10c
57 pm SEE SIN? By Mrs. Mary Reed Croweli... 100
58 DOUBLY DIVOEOED. By Jenny Devis Burton“ 10¢
59 AWICEED WOMAN. By Lillie Devereux Blake. 100
60 BLIND BARBARA'S SECRET. Mary G. Halpine.. 10°
61 AN AMERICAN QUEER. By Grace Mortimer... 10c
69 MAEGODN, TEE STEANOE. By Wm. M. Turner. 106
8,3 WIFE on WIDow. By Rett Wiuwood....'... . 100
64 THE CEEOLE Cooers. By Philip S. Warns... 100
65 PURSUED TO THE ALTAB. By Oushman I .

21-25 Bums or PREV. Miss M. E. Brnddon  . 10c 66 THE TERRIBLE TRUTH. By Jennie D. Burton. 10c

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82 Tar. LILY OF ST. ERNE. By Mrs. Crow ..... .. 105 71 THE P‘mnys Dwanm. By A Pmohls

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he Retribution of a
Mrs. Jennie D. Burton. 10c

 

 

l The Masked Bride' or, WILL SEE MAEET
Hm. B Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell.
I Was t Love! or, COLLEGIANs AND SWEET-
-uAETs. B W'n. Mason Turner M.
tThe Glr Wu'e- or, TEE RUE AND THE
FALsE. By Bartley  Campbell.
4 A Brave Heart: or, STABTLINGLY STRANGE.
gy Arabella Southworth.
8 eat-lo Ru nor, the Work Girl. By
Wm. Mason rner, M. D.
O The Secret Vlarrhme; or, A Booms IN
BPITE OE HEEsELE. By Sara. Claxton.
1 A Dnuuhter of Eve; or, BLINDED Er LOVE.
B Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell. .
I cart to Heart; or. FAIE Pmus‘ LOVE.
By Arabella Southworth.
9 Alone“: the World; or THE YOUNG MAN's
WARD. By the author of "Clifton."
19 A Pair 01 Gray Eye-z or. TEE EMERALD
NEchAcE. By Rose Kennedy.
11 Entangled; or. A DANGEEous GAME. By
. Henrietta. Thackeray.
12 Illa lmwml Wire: or. Mm m CHILD on
. ADOPTION. By Mrs. Ann 8. Stephens.
13 Mulch , the Little Quaker-en. By
. Corinne shman.
ll Why I Married HImI OI, THE WOMAN IN
GEAV. By Sara Claxton.
15 A Fair [mom or, OUT IN TEE WORLD. By
' ‘ » y'l‘. Camp ll.
16 Trust Her Not; or, THE TRUE KNIGHT. By
“dreamt Leicester.
11 A Loyal Lover. or. THE LAsT or THE ;
Guitars-ms. By Arabella Southworrh. x
18 mo Idol; or MILL-STAEEEDMAEEIAGE. By 1
Mrs. Mary meell. “

 

l
l

yMaI-Iy Grace Halpine.
a. orphan Ne l the orange Girl; or, TEE
WITcIIEsOTNEVg OI Agile Penna.

K.
31 &w , (I For‘ev’erg'or, Wm! I)an MTV

Henriette

22 The Bride of an Actor. By the author
of “ Alone in the World," etc};

to.
23 lfcabg Year; or, WHY SEE OPOSED. By Sara

ax n. ‘
24 H--r Face Wa- ller Fortune. ByLleanor
a no.
25 only a Sch oolmlntresn; or, BEE UNTOLD
. SEOEET. By Arabella. Southworth-

26 Without a “cart: or, WALKING ON THE
BRINK. By Prentiss Inzraham.

27 Wu» Sim a a «on: me '9 or, A STRANGE Covar-
sm. By Henrietta Thackeray.

28 Sybil Chant-I or, THE GAMELEE’s WIFE. By
Mrs. Ann 8. Stephens. .

29 For Her near Nuke: or, SAVED EEOM HIM-
SELF. By Sara. Claxton.

30. The Bouqth Girl I or, A MmuoN or
MONEY. By Agile Penne.

31 A Mad Marriage I or. T.:E IRON WILL. By
Mrs. Mary A. Dennison.

32 erlann, tht- PI-lmn Donna: or, ROSES
AND LILIEs. By A. Southworth.

33 The Three Sisters: or. THE MYSTERY or
LORD C‘EALEONT. By Alice Fleming.

34 A Marriage or Ponvntlence: or. WAs
HE A COUNT? By Sara Claxtnn.

85 Slnned A zalnnt: or, TEE WINTEEOP PRIDE.

By Clara. Augusta.

36 Sir Archer’s Brlrlo : or. THE QUEEN or Hrs
HEART. By Arabella. Southworth.

37 The Country f‘muin ' or. ALI. Is NOT GOLD l

'I‘H'AT GLITTEES. BV Rose ennedv.

38 His Own Again; or, TRUST HER NOT. By
Arabella Southworth.

39 Flirtatiou: or, A YOUNG Gum’s GOOD NAME.
By Ralph Royal. '

40 Pledged to Marry; or, IN LOVES BONDS-
Bv Sara. Claxton.

41 Illind Devrrtion; or. LOVE AGAINST THE
WOELD. By Alice Fleming.

42 Beatrice, the Beautiful: or, HIS SEcOND
DOVE. ByASouthworth. »

e.‘ Library of First-Clan Copyright Novels Published. Each Issue Complete. Price,6

 

  

43 The Baronet‘o Secret t or, 'l‘In RIVA!
HALE-SISTER. By Sara. Claxton.
44 The Only Ban hter: or, Bum AGAINS'I
LOVER. B Alice eming.
45 Her Hi den Foc‘ or, LOVE AT ALL ODOE.
46 I'izhufigtal sofihfordw' U Cm
e e e reps or NDEE A In).
Iii/Mrs. M. A. Denison. 3 '
47 eeause She Loved Him; or. How WILI
IT END. By Alice Flemin‘g.
48 In Spite of Hersel ; or, JENNmn‘s REP
AEATION. By S. R. Sheiwood.
49 His Heart’s Mistress; or. LOVE AT ll‘Im
SIGHT. B Arabella Southworth.
50 The Cu an Heiress; or, TEE PEIscNEIt or
LA VINTEEssE. By Mrs. Mary A. Denison.
51 Two Young Glrll; (mm BRIDE or AN
EARL. B Alice Fleming.
52 The W nged Messenger or RISKING ALL
FOE A HEART. By Mrs. Mary ed 010‘“ 11.
53 A on Hope the Actress; or. TI-Ir '30.
mg; or A RL'EYQ‘RIKG. By W. M. Turmr. M. D.
54 One Woman“ Heart ' or. SAVED From
THE STREET. By George S. Dime.
55 She Did Not Love Him; or. 5100?an TO
CONQIIEE. By Arabella South“ orth.
56 Love-Mad; or. B*TPOTIIED, MAEIIIED, DI-
VORCED AND —. By W. M. Turner.
5'! A. Brave Girl: or. Swarm": AT LAST. By
Alice Fleming. Ready December 14th.
58 The Ebnn Mask z or, TEE STEANGE GUARDI-
AN. By Mrs. Mary Reed Crow-11. Dec. 9.5:.
59 A Widow’n Wiles; or, A 31mm Rm
ANOE. By RachelBlrnhardt. Dec.28th
A new ism every week.
d TIRE WfiunwvthEAEV is for ssletb all 
ea ere, ve can s .r 00 V or 5911 .1116 on
recei t of six omits Sign fillADLEANfi ADA”
delighers. 98 William or» t. New York

 

 

'38 The Ocean Bloodhound

‘00 Bovinur Ben.

 

 

 

BEADLE’S

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.w

11 The Two Detectives; or THE FORTUNEs
or A Romy. Gm. 3y Albert w. Aiken.
19 Gulliver’s Trav s. Vo§age toLllli at,
and a Voyage to Brobdingnnlf. y Dean Sw t.
3 The Dumb S . By 0 Coomes.
4 Aladdin; or. HE WONDERFUL LAMP.
15 The Sen-Cat; or THE WITCH or DARIEN.
B Ca tain Frederick Whittaker.
16 1‘01, neon Crusoe. His Life and Surpris-
i Adventures. (27‘ Illustrations.) By Defoe,
11 alph Boy, THE BOY BUCCANEER; or, THE
FUGITIVE YACHT. By Col. Prentiss In raham.

18 Sindbad the Sai or. His Seven Oyages.
From the Arabian Nights.

19 The Phantom S ' or, THE PILOT or THE
PRAIRIE. B Buflal 

so The Don le Daggers ' or, DEADWOOD DICE's
DEIIANCE. By Edward L. eeler.

91 The Frontier Angel. A ROMANCE or KEN-
TchY RANGER'S LIFE.‘ By Edward S. Ellis.

92 The Sea Serpent; or, THE BOY ROBINSON
CausoE. ByJuan Lewis.

88 Nick 0’ the Night; or. THE BOY SP! or ’76.

T. C. Harbaugh.

B
M filament! Dirk or THE MYSTERY or THE

YELLOWSTONE. Oi. entiss Ingraham.
95 The Do Captain; or, THE inra‘s
DAUGHTER. y Roger Starbuck.

_ 96 Cloveu Hoof, TI-IE BUFFALO DEIION; OI, THE

BORDER VULTURES. By Edward L. .Wheeler.
:7 Antelope Abe, THE BOY GUIDE. Oil Coomes.
6 Duil'alo Ben, THE Pamela or THE PISTOL;
or DEADwoon DICE IN Disomsa. E. L. Wheeler.
99 The Dumb Pave; Or THE DOGE‘E DAUGH-
THE. B Ca t. Frederick Whittaker.
I. Boar ng alph BockWood , THE RECH-
LEss RANGER. By Hurry St. Geor e.
41 Keen-Knife, PRINCE or THE  By

011000mes.
, it lob Woolf, THE BORDER RUFFIAN' or. THE

GIRL LEAD-SHOT. By Edward L. Whee er.

or. THE RED
PIRATES or THE CAEIEEEES. By .W. Pierce.

Id Oregon 801' or NICE WHIEELES‘ BOY SPY.
B Oust. J. F.  Adams.

85 Win Ivan, THE BOY CLAUDE DINAL'OI‘, THE
BROTHERHOOD or DEATH. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

36 The Boy Clown or, THE QUEEN or THE
ARENA. B Frank S. I‘inn.

37 The Hi den Lodge; or, THE LITTLE HUN-
TER or THE ADIRONDACES. By T. C. Harbaugh.

38 Ned Wilde, TH : BOY SCOUT. By Texas Jack.

89 Deatli- ace, THE DETECTIVE; or LIFE AND
LOVE IN NEw YORK. By Edward L. Wheeler.

A STORY or A YOUNG AMER!-
OAN Wso'WANTED To SEE THE WORLD. Marshall.

11 Lasso Jack, THE YOUNG MUSTANGEE. By
Oil Coomes.

a The Phantom Miner; or DEADWOOD
Dick‘s BONANzA. By Edward L. Wheeler.

(8 Dick Darling, THE PONY ExrREss RIDER.
By Cs t. Frederick Whittaker.

N Butt lng Rube; or. THE NIGHT mm or
KENTUCKY. By Harry St. George.

15 old Avalanche THE GREAT ANNIIIILATOR;
or WILD EDNA, THE dIRL BRIGAND. E. L.Wheeler.

u G an Eye, THE GREAT SHOT on THE WEST.
% Capt. J. F. 0. Adams.

41 i htlnwale Nut; or. THE FOREST CAPTAINS.
B  C. arbnugln

u filack John, THE ROAD-AGENT; or THE OUT-
LAws’ RETREAT. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

49 Omaha 011 THE MASKED TERROR: or DEAD
WOOD DICE IN ANGER. By Edward L. Wheeler.

50 Burt Bunker, THE TRAPPER. A Tale of the
Northwest. BEG. E. Lasalle.

51 'l1le Boy mes; or. THE UNDERGROUND
Cm

. B Archie C. Irons.

I! The ite Bufl‘alo. A Tale of Strange

Adventure in the Northwest. 1%! C. E. Lasalle.

II Jim Bludsoe, Jr., THE OY humor; or.
THROUGH To DEA'I’E. By Edward L. Wheeler.

H: Ned Hazel, THE BOY TRAPPED; or,’1‘HE PHAN-
TOII PRINCESS. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.

55 Deadly-Eye, THE UNKNODVN SCOUT; or. THE
BRANDED BROTHERHOOD. By Buflaio Bl“.

56 Nick Whiflies’ Pet or IN THE VALLEY or
Dun-n. By Ca t. J. r. O. Adams.

I? Deadwood ick’s Eagle ' or, THE PARDE
or FLOOD BAR. B Edward L. Wheeler.

I: The Border lging; or, THE SECRET FOE.

' Oil Coomes.

lo I(glyld Hickory; or. PANDY ELLIs’s SCALP. By
Barry St. Gem 9.. ‘

Q The “’hite ndlan; or THE SCOUTs on THE
YELIDWSTONE. Bv Capt. J. 15‘. C. Adams.

91 Buckhorn Bill or. THE RED RIFLE Tm.

Edward L. Whee er.

6. he Shadow Ship; or. THE RWAL LIEU-
nNANTs. By Col. Prentiss inuraham.

CS The Red Brotherhood; or. THE TWELVE
AYENGERS. By W. J. Hamilton.

64. Dandy J ack; or. THE OUTLAW or TDD OREGON
TRAIL. By T. C. Harbnugh.

as Hurricane Bill 3 or, MUSTANG SAN AND Hrs
"l'AHD." By Joe. E. Badgfir, Jr.

66 91?": Bland; or, A IEE FOR A LIFE. By
W. . Hamilton.

.1 Patent-leather Joe; or OLD RATILESNAKE.
m CHARHER. By Philip S. Warne.

‘8 The Border Robin flood; or. T“
PRAIRIE ROVER. I. Buiialo Bill.
69 Gold Rifle, .'.. SHARPSliooTEP.’

Dream or THE BLACK RANCH. y Wheeler,
79 one Zip's Cabin; or, THE GREENIIORN IN
- m WOODS. By J. F. 0. Adams.
'11 Delaware Dick, THE YOUNG RANGER SPY;
or. B OTHER AGAINST BROTHER. By 011 Coomos.
79 11.55 To'm Western, THE TExAN RANGER;
u. '1‘.- QEEEN or THE PRAIRIE. By Hamilton.

THE BOY ‘

'109 Deadwood Dick

 

 

73 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, CALAIIITY
J AND, THE HEROINE or WHoor-Ur. By Wheeler.

74 Hawk-eye Harry, THE YOUNG TRAma

GER. By Oil Coomes.

75 The Boy Duelist; or, THE CRUISE or THE
SEA-WOLF. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

76 Abe Colt, THE CROW—KILLER; or, THE GREAT
FIGHTING MAN or THE WEST. B A. W. Aiken.

7'1 CorduroB Charlie, THE Y BRAVO; or,
DEADwooD ICE‘S LAST ACT. By E. L. Wheeler.

78 Blue Dick; or, THE..me CHIEE‘s VEN-
GEANCE. By Captain Mayne Reid

79 Sol Ginger, THE GIANT Tr new or. THE
FmWEB. OF THE BLACKFEET. By A. W’. Aiken.

80 Rosebud Rob; or NUGGET ED, THE KNIGHT
or THE GULCH. By Edward L. Wheeler.

81 MEI-min r .1", THE TERROR or THE PRAIRIE.
B aptain .F.O. Adams.

82 it Hareiuot TIIE Woon-HAWx- or. OLD
POWDER-FACE AND’HIS DEMONS. B fiarbaugh.

83 Rollo, the Boy Bangor“; or, HEHEIREss
or THE GOLDEN HORN. By 0 Coomes.

84 Idyll, the Girl Miner; or. Romeo Ron
ON AND. By Edward L. Wheeler.

85 Buck Buckrum; or, Bass. THE Fm

TRAPPER. By Captain J. F. 0. Adams.

86 Dund Ruck, THE TRON, Tu». By

G. Wei 0 Browne.

87 The Land Pirates; or. THE LEAGUE or

DEVIL'S ISLAND. By Capt. Mags Reid.

88 Photogru h P Iii, THE Y SLEUTH: or,

Rosauun Ros s REArrEARANOE. By E. L.Wheeler.

89 Island Jim or, THE PET or THE FAMILY.

B the authoro “Jack Harkawa ."

90 he Dread Rider; or. THE Dunner.
B George Waldo Browne.

91 he captain oi the Club; or. THE YOUNG
RIVAI. ATHLETES. By Braoebrldtm Hemyng,

92 Canada Che-t, THE COUNTEREEITER CHIEE;
or OLD ANACONDA IN SITTING BULL’s Cm. By

ward L. Wheeler.

93 The Boy Miner- or, THE ENCHANTED
ISLAND. By Edw 8., .

94 Midni ht Jack THE ROAD-AGENT; or,
GOPHER ID. THE BOY RAPPER as THE CHEYENNE.
By T. C. Harbnugh,

95 ' he nivul Rover-shot; THE
or THE MISSISSIPPI. By eut. Col. Hazeltlne.

96 Watch-Eye. THE SHADOW; or ARAIss AND
ANGELS or A GREAT CLY. By E. L. Wheeler.

91 The Outlaw Brothers; or THE CAPTIVE
or THE HARrEs. By J. J. Marshail.

98 Rob n Hood, THE OUTLAWED EARL; or, THE .

MERRY MEN or GREENWOOD. Prof. Gilderslseve.
99 The Tiger of Thos; or WILD KATE, DANDY
Rocx's ANGEL. By Geor Waldo Browne.
100 Deadwood Dirk n Londvillo; or. A
STRANGE STRan NB LIEERTY. 13 Wheeler.
101 Jack Hurkawuy in New ork ' or,
THE ADVENTURES or TEE TRAVELERS” us.
By Bracebrid e Hemyng.
102 Dirk D n - Pye, THE BOY SEUGGIER: or.
THE CRUISE OF THE VIxEN. By Col. ingraham.
103 The Lion ol the Sea; or. THE VAIIED
' LADY OE SAN TROPEZ. By Col. Delie Sara.
104 Deadwood DlI-k’s Devi-“e or, THE
SIGN or THE DOUBLE CROSS. By E. . Wheeler
105 Old Rube, THE HUNTER; or, THE CROW CAP-
TIVE. y Capt. H. Holmes.
106 Old Frosty, THE GUIDE; or. NIOEANA, THE
WHITE QUEEN or THE BLACKBIII‘IT. Harbaugh.
107 One-Eyed Sim I; or, THE ABANDONED FOR-
EST HOME. By J. . Bowen.
108 Daring: Davy, THE YOUNG BEAR-KILLER; or,
THE TRAIL or THE BORDER WOLF. H. St. Geo e.

as Detective. y
Edward L. Wheeler.
110 The Black Steed oi‘ the Prairies. A
Thrillin Story of Texan Adventure. By Bowen.
111 The cat-Devil; or, THE MIDSHIDIIAN'S
LEGACY. B Col. P. Ingraham.
Hunter; or, THE CAVE or
DEATH. By Burton Sears.
113 Jack Hoyle, THE YOUNG BPICULATOB: or.
THE ROAD To FORTUNE By Ed. L. Wheeler.
114 The Black chooner; or, JIs JUNE, TIIE
OLD TAR. B Roger Stun-buck.
1 15 The Mad liner ;'Or, DANDY ROOE‘SDOOII.
B George Waldo Browne.
116 he fill-sm- Ca tain; or, THE HERInT
or HELL-GATE. By 01. Prentiss In aham.
117 Gilt-Edgd Dick; THE SPORT ETECTNE:
or. TUE AD-AGENTs DAUGHTER. Wheeler.
1 1 8 Will Somers, THE BOY DETECTIVE. Morris.
1 19 Mustang Sam; or. THE KING or THE
PLAINS. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.
120 The Branded Hand; or, THE MAN or
MYSTERY. By Frank Dumont.
121 Cinnamon Chip, THE GIRL SPORT; or,
THE GOLDEN anL or MT. ROSA. rd. L.Wheeler.
122 Phil Hardy, TUE Boss BOY; or. THE MYS-
‘ TERY OF THE STRONGDOW. By Charles Morris.
123 Kiowa Charley, THE WHITE MUSTANG“.
&y T. C. Harbaugh.
124 lgpy, THE TEXAN; or, THEYOUNG CHAHPION.
By Gorge Gleason.
125 Bonanza Bill MINER; nr MADANE MYSP
TERY. TIIE FEMALE ‘ORGER. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
126 Picayune Pete; orI NICODEIIUS, THE DOG
DETEifl‘IVE. By Charles Morris.
1 27 “’ild-Firo, THE Boss or THE ROAD- or. THE
WOLVES or SATAN’S GAP. By Frank ‘Dnmont.
128 The Youngr Privateer or,THEPIaATEs‘
STRONGIIOLD. Br H. Cavemi sh.

129 Deadwood Dick’s Double or. Till
' ' GHOST or GORGON'S GULCH. Ed. L. Wheeler.
130 Detective Dlek; or. THE HEDO IN RAGI.

By Charles Moms. r
131 The Golden “and; or. DANDY Reel To
THE RESCUE. By George W. Browne.

 

132 The Hunted Hunter; or. Tn STRANGE
HORSEIIAN OR THE PEAIanI. By Ed. 3. Ellis.

138 Does Bob, THE KING or THE Boorsucus:
or, THE PAWNEII’OIIER‘S PmT. Ed. L. Wheeler.

1 34 Sure Shot Seth, THE BOY RIrLruAN; or ’J‘HI
YOUNG PATRIOTS ON THE NORTH. By 011 000mm

135 (fa Iuin Pu ul,TIIE KENTUCRYMOONSEWEII:
or HR BOY SPY or THE MOUNTAINS. By Clot-A

136 Niuht-llau k Kit ' or. THE DAUGHTER or
THE RANCH. By Jose h E. Boozer, Jr.

13'! The Helpless and; or. BACIIWODDS

RUTIoN. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

138 Blonde Bill; or, DEADWOOD Dch’s 110m:
BASE. By Edward L. Wheeler.

139 Judge Lynch Jr.; or, THE BOY Vito
LANTE. By . C. Ifarbaugh.

140 Blue Blazes; or THE BREAK 0‘ DAY BOYS
or ROch BAR. By rank Dumont.

141 Solid Sum, THE BOY ROAD-AGENT; Or. THE
BRANDED BROWS. By Edward L Wheeler.

142 Handsome Herr , THE BOOTELACK DD
TECTIVE. By Charles orris.

143 Scar-Face haul, THE‘SILENT HI'NTER; or.
THE MYSTERY or FORT RARE. By 011 Coomes

144 Dainty Lance, THE BOY SPORT; or .H..
BANE-BREAHERS’ DECOY DUCK. J. E. Badger.

145 Chptulu Ferrel, THE NEW YORK DETEC-
TIVE; or. Boss BCH‘s BOSS Jon. By Wheeler.

146 Silver Star, THE BOY KNIGHT. A Prairie
Romance. By 011 Coomes.

147 Will Wildfire, THE THOROUGHEEED; or.
THE WINNING HAND. By Charles MCIrls.

148 Sharp Sam ; or, THE ADVENTURES or A
FRIENDLEss BOY. B J. AlexanderPatten.
149 A Game or Go a; or, DEADWOOD DiCl'E

BIG STRIKE. B Edward L. Wheeler.
150 Lam-e and asso or, THE CHIIDREN or
THE CHACO. By Capt. derick Whittaker.
151 Panther Paul, THE PRAIRIE PIRATE' or.
DAINTY LANCE To THE RESCUE. J. E. Badger.
152 Black Bess, WILL WILEY-Inn‘s RACER; or.
WINNING AGAINST ODDS. By Charles Morris
153 Each Kit, THE BOY DEHON; or THE 0m-
LAws or THE GOLD HILLS. By 011 Coomes.
154 The Swerd Hunters; or, THE LAND or
THE ELEPHANT RIDERs. By Fred. Vl hittaker.
155 Gold Triugrr THE SPORT; or, THE GIRL
AVENGEH. BY T. .. Harboufih.
156 Dead“ and Dick - r eadwm-d; or.
THE PICKED PARTY. By Edward L. Wheeler.
1 57 Mike Merry, THE Anson POLICE Bovmr,
THE LIGHT-HAWKS or PHILADELPHIA. Morris.
158 Fanry Frank «1' c elm-ado; or. TIIE
TRAPPER’S TRI‘ST. By Buffalo 1 ill.
159 Tho- [out Captain; or, Sxmrrn JABE‘I‘
COEEIN'S CRUISE To THE 0mm POLAR SEA.
By Captain Frederick Whittaker.
160 'I he Black (Mont;i or. DAINTY LANCE IN
JEOPABDY. By Joseph .Badger. Jr.
161 New York Nell THE BOY-GIRL DETECTIVE
» or, OLD Bumtr’s ONLY. By E. L. Wheeler.
162 Will Wildfire in the Woods 01-. CAMP
LIFE IN THE ALLEGHANIIS. By Char es Morris.
163 Little Texas. THE YOUNG MUSTANGER. A
Tale of Texan Prairies. By Oil Coomes.
164 Dandy Rock’s Pledge; or,HUNTED To
DEATH. By G. Waldo Browne.
165 Billy Begun e, THE RAILROAD BOY; or.
RUN To EARTH. y Charles Morris.
166 Hickory Harry; or, THE TRAIL or FIRE.
By Barry St. George.
1 67 Ana Scott, THE STEAIIDOAT BOY: or.'I'HE LAND
PIRATES or THE MISSISSIPPI. By Ed. Willett.
168 Dead] Dash or. FIGHTING FIRE wrrn
FIRE. y Joe. E.

Edger.
169 Tornado Tom; Or. INIUN JAG: FROII RED
CORE. '1‘. C. Harbough.
170 A Trump Card; or. WILL WILDmE WINS
AND LORES. By Charles Morris.
171 Eben Dan or. Tm; RIVAL LEAGUE- or
SILVER lIRCLE. yF. Dumcnt.

1 '12 Thunderbolt Tom; 01-. THE WOLr-HERDER

= or THE ROCKIES. By Harry St. George.

173 Dandy Rock’s Rival or. THE HUNTER
MAID or TAGS. By George aldo Browne.

174 Bob Beckett, THE BOY DODGEII; or. Mrs-
TERIES oran YORH. By Charles Morris.

1'15 Captain Arizona THE KING PIN or ROAD
AGENTS; (.r Patent Leather Joe‘s Big Game.
By Philip S.'Warne. ‘

176 The Boy Runaway ORTII Bowman
or THE BAY. Lleut. H. D. e . U.S.N.

1'17 Nohby Nick of Nevada. By Edward L.
Wheeler.

178 Old Solitary THE HERNIT TRArrER: or,
THE DRAGON or SILVER LAKE. By 011 00011161.

179 Bob Beckett THE BANE RUNNER- or, To
ROAD To Rum. By Charles Morris. Dec. 28th

180 The Sea Trailer; or A Vow WEI.me
By Lieut. H. D. Perry. U. . N. January 4th.

181 Wild Frank of Montana or. TH:
KING or BUORSK‘KNS. By Edward Wheeler
Ready January 11th.

182 Little Hurricane, THE BOY PArrAIN; on
THE 0 By 0|

ATII or THE YOUNG Avur In.
Coomes. Ready Jan 18m. ’ ‘

Anew (mu m m

The Half-Dime library a tar sale 1: in
Newsdeaiers, live vents per v. or Sent by Inufi on
aegm of six cents each 'DLE‘R ADAMS. ‘

01's. 98 William and». New York

 

 

 

BEADLE’S

 

DIME

 

 

32 Large Three-column Pages.

1. A Hard Crowd : 0R, GENTLEMAN
Sal's SISTER. By Philip S. Wame.

2. ,The Dare-Devil: OR, THE WINGED
WITCE or TEE SEA. By Col. Prentiss Ingrahnm.

3. Kit Carson. J r.. TEE CRACK SHOT or
TEE WEST. By Buckskin Sam.

4. The Kidnapper : OR. TEE GREAT
SEANGEAI or TEE NORTHWEST. By Philip S. Wnrne.

5. The Pire-Fiends; ()R, HERCULES, TEE
HUNCEEACII. By A. P. Morris.

6. Wildcat Bob. THE Boss BRUITR;
on, TEE BORDER BLOODEOUNES. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

7. Death-Notch, TEE DESTROYER; OR,
THE SPIRIT LAKE AVENOERS. By 011 Coomes.

8. The Headless Horseman. A strange
story of Texas. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

0. Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover.

10. Vidocq. THE FRENCH POLICE SPY.
Written by himself.

1 1. Midshipman Easy. By Capt. Mar-
ryut.

12. The Death-Shot; 0R, TRACKED TO
DEATH. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

13. Pathawa ; on. NICK WEIFELEs, THE
OLD TEArrER or TEE ORTEWEST. By Robinson.

14. Thayendanegea. THE SCOURGE ;
on, TEE WAR-EAGLE or TEE MOEAWKS. Ned Buntiine.

15. The Tiger-Slayer: 0R, EAGLEv
HEAD TO THE RESCUE. By Gustave Aimard.

16. The White Wizard; OR, THE GREAT
PROPHET or TEE SEEINOLEs. By Ned Buntline.

17. Nightshade. TEE ROBBER PRINCE
or HoUNsww HEATH. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

18. The Sea Bandit; OB, TEE QUEEN
or TEE ISLE. By Ned Buntline. ,

19. Red Cedar, TEE PRAIRIE OUTLAw.
By Gustave Aimard.

20. The Bandit at Bay; OR, TEE PI-
EATEs or TEE PEAIRIES. By Gustave Aimard.

21. The Trapper’s Daughter:

0

TEE OUTLAW’S FATE. By Gustave A mard. R,

22. Whitelaw: OR. NATTIE or TEE LAKE
SEOEE. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

28. The Red Warrior: 03, STELLA
DEIquIE‘s COEANCEE LOVER. By Ned Buntline.

24. Prairie Flower. By Gustave Ai-
mard. author of “Tiger-Slayer.“ etc.

25. The Gold-Guide; OR. STEEL ARE,
THE REGULATOR. By Francis Johnson.

26. The Death-Track; OR, THE OUT-
LAws or TEE MOUNTAIN. By Francis Johnson.

2'7. The Spotter-Detective: OR. THE
GIRLS or NEW YORK. By Albeit W. Aiken.

28. Three-Fingeer Jack. TEE ROAD-
AGENT or TEE ROCKIES. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

29. Tiger Dick, TEE FARO KING; or,
TEE CASEIER‘S CRIME. By Philip S. Warns.

80. Gospel George: or. FIERY FRED,
TEE OUTLAw. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

81. The New York ‘Sharx :’ OR, TEE
FLASH or LIGHTNING. By Albert W. iken.

82. B'hoys of Yale: OR. THE SCRArEs
orA HARD SET or COLLEGIANS. By John D. Vose.
88. Overland Kit. By A. W. Aiken.

84. Rocky Mountain Rob. By Aiken.
85. Kentuck. the Sport. By Aiken.
88. Injun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken.
37. Hirl. the Hunchback: on. TEE
SwonnEAKER or TEE SANTEE. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.
38. Velvet Hand: on. THE IRON GRIP or
hum DICK. By Albert W. Aiken.
89. The Russian Spy: on. TFE BROTE-
ERS or TEE STARE! Cross. By Frederick Whittaker.
40. The Lone: Haired ‘Pardsf 0R.
TEE TABTABS or TEE PLAINS. By J os. E. Badger. Jr.

41. Gold Dan: on, TEE WHITE SAVAGE
or TEE GREAT SALT LAKE. By Albert W. Aiken.

42. The California Detective: 0R, ‘

' TEE WITCEES or Nsw YORK. By Albert W. Aiken.
43. DakotaDan. TEE REchnss R ANGER:
or. TEE BEE-Hm' EXCURSION. By Oil Gnomes.

44. Old Dan Rackback. TEE GREAT
EnAmmuToa. By 011 Coomes.

LIBRARY.

 

 

 

 

45. Old Bull’s Eye. TEE LIGHTNING
SEOT or TEE PLAINS. By Joseph E. Badger. JR.

46. BowieeKnife Ben, THE LITTLE
HUNTER or TEE NOE-WEST. By 01] Coomes.

47. Pacific Pete, TEE PRINCE or THE
REVOLVER. By JOE. E. Badger. Jr.

48. Idaho Tom, TEE YOUNG OUTLAW
or SILVERLANE. By 011 Coomes.

49. The Wolf Demon; or, TEE QUEEN or
TEE KANAWEA. By Albert W. Aiken.

50. Jack Rabbit. TEE PRAIRIE SPORT;
By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.

51. Red Rob, TEE BOY ROAD-AGENT.
By 011 Coomes.

52. Death Trailer. TEE CHIEE or
Scosrs. By Hon. Wm. F. Cody. (Buffalo Bill.)

63. Silver Sam; or. THE MYSTERY or
Den lwoon CITY. By Col. Delle Sara.

54. Always on Hand; or. TEE SPORTIVE
SPORT or TEE FOOT HILLS. By Philip S. Warne.

55. The Scalp Hunters. AROMANCE or
TEE PLAINS. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

58. The Indian Mazefiga; or, TEE
MAD MAN or TEE PLAINS. By rt W. Aiken.

57. The Silent Hunter; or, TEE SCOWL
HALL MYSTERY. By Percy B. St. John.

58. Silver Knife; or, WICKLIEEE. TEE
ROCKY MOUNTAIN RANGER. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

59. The Man From Texas; or, TEE
OUTLAW or ARKANSAS. By Albert W. Aiken.

60. Wide Awake: or. THE IDIOT 0r
TEE BLACK HILLS. By Frank Dumont.

61. Captain Seawaif. TEE PRIVATEER.
By Ned Buntline.

62. Loyal Heart: or, TEE TRAPPEBS or
ARKANSAS. By Gustave Aimard.

88. The Winged Whale. By Aiken.

64. Double-Sight. the Death Shot.
By Joseph E. Badger. r.

65. ..he Red Rajah: or, TEE SCOURGE
or TEE anIES. By Captain Frederick Whittaker.

88. The S eater Barque. A TALE
or TEE PACIFIC. Captain Mayne Reid.

67. The Boy Jockey: or, HONESTY
VERSUS CROOKEDNEss. ’By Joseph E. Badger. Jr.

68. The Fighting Trapper: or, KIT
CARSON To THE RESCUE. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.

69. TheIrish Ca tain: A TALE or
FONTENOY. By Captain F erlck Whittaker.

'10. Hydra‘oad. TEE STRANGLER: or,
ALETEE, TEE CHILD OE TEE CORD. By Robinson.

71. Captain Cool-Blade, or, TEE MAN
SHARK or TEE MISSISSIPPI. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.

72. The Phantom Hand. A STORY OF
NEW YORK HEART-ES AND Hours. By A. W. Aiken.

78. The Knight of the Red Cross:
or, TEE MAGIGIAN or GRANADA. Dr. J. H. Robinson.

74. Captain ofthe Rifles. A ROMANCE
or TEE MmCAN VALLEY. By Captain Mayne Reid.

75. Gentlemen George. or. PARLOR.
PRISON. STAGE AND STREET. By Albert W. Aiken.

76. The Queen’s Musketeer: or.
TEISEE, TEE PRINCESS PALEIST. By George Albony.

7'3. The Fresh of Frisco: or. T"E
Ramses or BWNAVENTURA. By Albert W. Aiken.

78. The Mysterious Spy: or, GOLDEN
FEATHER, TEE BUCCANEEE‘G DAUGETER. By Grainger.

'19. Joe Phenix. THE POLICE SPY. By
Albert W. Aiken.

80. A Man of Nerve:
TEE DwARr. By Philip S. Warne.

81. The Human Tiger:
or FIRE. By Albert W. Aiken.

8‘3. Iron Wrist. the Swordmaster.
By Col. Thomas H. Monster-y.

83. Gold Bullet Snort: or, TEE KNIGETS
or TEE OVERLAND. By Bufl'alo Bill.

84. Hunted Down; or,
‘ WITCE. BVAlbertW. Aiken.

85. The Cretan Rover : or. ZULEIKAE,
TEE Bnmm By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

‘ 8“. The Bin Hunter: or. TV?! QUE":w

or, CALIBAN,
O

or, A HEART

 

m WRITE

Each Number Complete.

 

 

Price 1 0 ate.

87. The Scarlet Captain: or, TEE
PRISONER or TEE TOWER. By Col. belle Sara. _

88. Big George. TEE GIANT or TI-IE
GULCE; or, an FIVE OUTLAW BROTHERS. By Badger.

89. The Pirate Prince: or. PRETTY
NELLY, TEE QUEEN or TEE ISLE. By Col. Ingrabam.

90. Wild Will, THE MAD RANCEERO;
or, TEE TERRIBLE TEKAN. By Buckskin 

91. The Winning- Oar: or, TEE INN
KEEPER‘S DAUGHTER. By Albert W. Aiken.

92. Bufi'alo Bill. TEE BUCKSKIN KING;
By Major Dangerfield Burr.

98. Ca tain Dick Talbot. KING or
TEE RoAn. y Albert W. Aiken.

94. Freelance, TEE BUCCANEER; or. The
WAIF or TEE WAVE. By Col. Prentiss Luigi-sham.

95. Azhort, TEE AXMAN: or, TEE SECRETS
or TEE DUCAI. PALACE. By Anthony P. Morris.

96. Double-Death; or, TEE SPY QUEEN
or WYOEING. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

97. Bronze Jack, TEE CALIFORNIA
THOROUGHBRED. By A. W. Aiken.

98. The Rock Rider; or. THE SPIRIT
or TEE SIERRA. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

99. The Giant Riflemn; or, WILD
LIFE IN TEE LUEEEE REGIONS. By 011 Coomes.

100. The French 8 : or, TEE BRIDE

or PARIS. A Story of the ommune. By A. P.
Morris.

101. The Man from New York: or,
$EAR£MANCE or A RICE YOUNG WOMAN. By Albert
. en.

102. The Masked Band: or, TEE MAN
WITHOUT A NAME. By George L. Aiken. '

103. Merle. the Mutincer: or. TEE
BRAND Or TEE REE ANCHOR. By Col. P. Ingrahnm.

104. Montezuma, the Merciless: or.
TEE EAGLE AND TEE SERPENT. By Col. P. Ingmhnm. .

105. Dan Brown of Denver, TFE
ROCKY MOUNTAIN DETECTIVE. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.

106. Shanna O’Brien. TEE BOULn BOY
or GLINGAL; or. IRISE HEARTS AND linen Hours.
By Colonel Delle Sara.

1 07. Richard Talbot of Cinnabar:
or- TEE BROTEERS or TEE RED HAND. By Albert W.
en.

108. The Duke of Diamonds: or, TEE
FLOWER or CALCUTTA. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

109. Captain Kyd, TEE KING or TEE
BLACK FLAG. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

110. The Silent Riflernnn. A Tale of
the Texan Plains. By Henry W. Herbert.

1 1 1. The Smuggler Captain: or, TEE
SKIPPER'S CRIKE. By Ned Buntline.

112. Joe Phenix. PRIVATE DETECTIVE;

or, TEE LEAGUE or TEE SKELETON KEYS. By Albert
W. Aiken.

113. The Sea Slipper: or, TEE AEA~
TEUR FREEBOO'EBS. By Prof. J. H. Ingraham.

1 14. The Gentleman from Pike: or,
TEE CEOST or TEE CANYON. By Philip S. Warns.

1 15. The Severed Head: or. TEE
SECRET or CASTLE COUCY. By Capt. Fred.WhittsiIer.

116. Black Plume. TEE DEVIL or TEE
SEA: or, TEE SoncEREes or HELD-GATE. By Colonel
Pren Ingraham.

1 1 7. Dashinpr De ndy. THE 1701‘st or
THE HILLS‘ or, TEE PONY PRINCL'S STRANGE PARD.
By Major Dangerfield Burr.

118. The Burglar Captain: or, TEE
FALLEN STAR. By Prof. J. H. Inng_

1 10. Abbe Ira Joe: or, TEE YAzOO
MAN-HUNTrRs. By Joseph E. Badger. Jr.

120. The Texan S y : 0'. THE PRAIRIE
GUIDE. By Newton M. Curt . Ready Februaryfith.

121. The Sea Cadet: or, TEE ROVER
or TEE RIGOLETTs. By Col. P. Ingrabsm. Feb. 16th.

Anmkmwwwuk.

Bendie’n .nlmo Library is for role by All
Newsdealers, ten cents per copy. Or sent by mail on
receipt of twelve cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS.

l or TEE Woons. By the author of “ Silent Hunter."  Publishers. 98 William Street. New York.