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No. 209

Ten Cent: 3. Copy.
$5.00 A Year.

@ublishers,
N. Y., October 25. 1&2.

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BUCK FARLEY, THE BONANZA. PRINCE;

98 WILLIAM STREET

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. XVII.

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Or, THE ROMANCE OF DEATH GULCH.

BY EDWARD WILLE’I‘T,

MISSISSIPPI MOSE," 1:10., ETC.

AUTHOR or “

HE WAS AWAKENED BY THE MPING OF HEAVY WINGS.

 

 

 

  

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an

' hand

’ish tongue, escaped

' who had sent for him. He. too, was

Buck, Farley, the Bonanza P1finoe.

 

 

Buck Farley, I

The Bonanza Prince;

on,
The Romance of Death Gulch.

BY EDWARD WILLETI‘.

' CHAPTER I.
THE raver.
,A LARGE and low house, with a veranda all
around it, commanded an almost unequaled

 

prospect.

Toward the east and south, as far as the eye
could see, stretched an unbroken prairie, the
range of thousands of cattle, the property of
the owner of the ranch. .

At the west rose giant mountains, the back-
bone of a continent, verdurous at the base,
while' the peaks that seemed to touch the sky
were covered with eternal snow.

At the north the prairie was rolling and
broken, where the foot-hills of the mountain
range trended to the eastward, and at the dis-
tance of half a. mile from the house was a belt
of heavy timber, stretching from east to west,
marking the course of a creek that finally lost
itself in a deep ravine.

It was near the close of day. The sun was
setting behind the westem mountains, tinging
their tall peaks with hues of crimson and pur—
ple and violet, and sending a shadow across the
prairie until it nearly reached the house that
crowned a gentle slope.

A young girl came out of the house, and
stood on the veranda that faced the west. She
seemed to be a girl of seventeen, and was notic-
able for her abundant black hair, her large
dark eyes, and the rich beauty of her perfect
face. On her head she wore a straw hat with a
single pink ribbon, and her simple dress of light

'material was short in the skirt, so that it should
I not interfere with her freedom of movement.

She looked up at the shining mountain peaks,
then down at the shadow that was slowly
stretching over the praim'e, and then glanced
to the left and to the right, as if to make sure
that she was not watched.

A glad light came into her eyes as they flnal-
1y rested on the belt of timber where it was
completely covered by the shadow of the moun-
tains. Then she stepped down from the veran-
da, and swiftly and Silently walked toward the
line of the cottonwood‘s, occasionally casting a.
stealthy and hurried glance backward.

She had nearly reached her apparent destina-
tion, when the door of the house. was again
opened, and a woman came out.

This woman presented a strange contrast to
the girl She looked to be full forty years of
age, and was of so stout a boil that she might
fairly have been called fat. Her black hair was
thickly streaked with gray, and her full face
was dark and unprepossessing. She was dressed
with-remarkable richness for that region so for
from society and civilization, wearing a heav
black satin, expensiver made and trimme ,
and an abundance of showy jewelry.

She waddled, rather than walked, out on the

'veranda-and shaded her small eyes withAher
- fat hand

from the last rays of the setting sun,
as she looked across the prairie.

Suddenly a darker shade came over her dark
face, and an exclamgtiop of anger, in the Span-

ei- ma.

1“ Leon!” she called, stamping her foot, “ Leon,
I say! — Brin me my lorgnette!”

A lithe an active boy, nearly as dark as an
Indian came running out at her call, and

ed her a small field glass.

She raised it to her eyes, and focused it
quickly
was disappearing among the trees.

“ I thought so,” she said. “ There is no time
to be lost. Leon, bring your master to me.
Bring "Senor Rosalba to me at once., At once,

'I say! ,
' T e ho hastened away, but soon returned

with‘a and shapely man, who was in ap-
pearance several years younger than the woman
dark and

“ swarth 5 but his eyes, strangely oontrastin
‘ with h 3 hair and complexion, were ofa lighi

gray, and his face was near! cove b a
thick black beard. He'wasydressexdqdra er
richly, partly in Mexican and partly in Ameri-
can style, his embroidered jacket and broad
sombrero speaking of the .fiprmer nationality,
and his tweed trowsers of. the latter. In his
nngt hand he carried a heavy whip with a long

, “  mia,” he said, with a. smile that could

' scarcely be seen through his heav mustache
. “what is the matter with my eggs]? Wha‘

troubles you now, Lucia?”

“ That rl ” she said, frownin as she pointed
toward t 9 belt of timber. “ has gone
yonder. She left the house alittle while ago,
and of course she has gone to meet thatYankee,
Ned Dorlon." . , , '

“ Caramba I” exclaimed Senor Rosalba.
“That must be attended to.” .

. I ’

on the belt of timber, just as the girl

 

“ At once and forever, Pedro.”

“ At once and forever, Lucetta mia.
trouble you no more.”

The irl, in the meantime, looked neither to
the le t nor to the right after she had entered
the cottonwoods, but followed the stream to-
ward the west, looking straight before her, and
eagerly exploring the aces where the tall
trees threw dark and fan astic shadows. There
was no fear in her look, and no uncortainty in
her step, ncthin in her. aspect or her action
but hope and gad expectancy of a coming.
pleasure:

At last a joyful cry burst from her lips, as a

oung man stepped out from the shadow of a

arge trunk, and re idly approached her.

Beyond doubt t is was the “Yankee” of
whom Senora Rosale had spoken. He had the
fair hair and blue eyes of the northern race,
and his speech and actions proved him to be
an American of the Americans. He was a little
above the average hight of man, and his mus-
cular but symmetrical form spoke of strength
and agility. A light mustache adorned his
frank and handsome countenance, and his fair
brow was shaded by a wide felt hat. His blue
flannel shirt, and the tall boots that half-covered
his le , suggested the ranchman or prosp ctor,
and t 9 rest of his clothing was plain and ser-
viceable.

“Rose!” he exclaimed, as he hastened to
meet her. “Have you really come, my dar-
ling? I scarcely dared to expect you. ’

She held out both her hands as she joined
him, and they met with a close and fervent
embrace.

“Of course I have come, Edward,” she said.
“ How could I keep away i”

“ I was afraid that you would be kept away,”
he replied, “ and 1 am still afraid that you are
preparing trouble for yourself by coming here
to meet me. Have you no such fear?”

She answered him by a loving look, and again
the embraced, closely and fervently.

Clearly this was a love affair that must be
pfit an end to at once, if it was to be stopped at
a . i
“I have no fear when I can be with you,”
she said. “ Then I forget everything else, and
only know that I love you. But I have been
cautious, dear one. I slip ed own from the
house when no one was looking, an I came to
the creek so swiftly that I must have escaped
even the watchful eyes of my mother.”

“ If she should sus ect that we are still meet-
ing,” said Dorlon, “ am afraid that she would
take severe measures with you; and you know
that 'our father hates me.”

“ y father?” exclaimed Rose. “You are
mistaken, Edward. Senor Rosalba is not my
father."

.It shall

“Not your father, sweetheart? '1 do not un-
derstand.”
“ I am an American, as you are. In spite of

my dark eyes and my Mexican face, I am an
American, through my father, and my name
is not Rosalba, though it is long since I have
been known by any other. ” ,

“Who, then, was your father, Rose? and
what is your name?”

“His name was Warren, Henry Warren.
My mother married him for his riches, but
hated him because he was'an American. It is
hard to speak of my mother as I do, and to feel
toward her as I do; but it is right to tell the
truth. When my father settled here. and built
the house yonder, he made Pedro Rosalba, to
please my mother, the su rintendent of his
cattle farm. Years ago, w en I was but an in-
fant my father rode away to buy some catt
and he never returned. I remember that
asked what had become of him, and that they
told me that nobody knew, and that my mother
laughed at me when I cried after him. Then
1!: mother married Pedro Rosalba, and now he
is 0rd and master here.” '

“ This place must be hateful to you, my dar-
ling and I am sure that Senor Rosalba is not
kin to you.”

“ He would be, if I would marry his nephew,
Manuel Vincente; but they all know that I de-
test that cruel, sneering scoundrel and it is on
his account that they treat me harshly. No
person here is kind tome, exec t my young
step-brother, Benito Roselba, an what can he
do or me, the poor hunohbacki”

. “There is one whom do somethin for on,

. I can attleasthake ou away rein t ese
hateful associations, and mu; the daily fears
that oppress you here. Fly With me, dear one,
and become my wife, and I will do my best to
make your life a he py one.”

The girl turned er gaze upon
and her eyes filled with tears. _

“I would gladly do so” she said; "but it
does not seem to be possib e. I am afraid that
the attempt would end only in death for you
and torturo“for me. Senor Rosalba rules all

the 'ground,

v this region, as far-as, our eyes can seetand you

are poor‘ and friendless. 1f 1 should e missed
from home, his horsemen would uickly scour
all the country around here, an we would
have no chance to escape them. We could not
even hope for such: leasant fate as that which
befell Lord Ullin’s daughter and her lover."

“ it is true that..I am poor,” replied Dorlon;

l

/
i

 

“ but I am not friendless, though my friends
are few and far a art in this region. I believe
that I can find a iiding-place, which we could
reach before they could overtake us, and where
we would be safe from discovery until we might
find means of getting for from here.”

" Do you really believe, Edward, that We
could get safely away i”

“I am sure of it. Wait a. little while; have
patience a little longer; and I’ll make such ar-
ren ements as will carry us beyond the reach
of edro Rosalba and all the men he can put
fin ogu’r track. Then will you go with me, dar-

ng ,

, “ Yes, Edward. When you are sure that ou
can make the attempt safely, so that, it s all
not lead to your death, I will Clgo with you glad-
ly—to the world’s end, if nee be.”

“You will go nowhere. young woman,” said
a harsh voice close behind her, and at the same
moment a heavy hand was laid on Edward
Durlou’s shoulder.

CHAPTER II.
I) E A T B G U L C H .

DORLON turned quickly, and was confronted
by the bearded face and gleaming gray eyes of
Pedro Rosalba. _.

He started backward, to shake off the grasp
that had been laid on his shoulder, but was at
once seized by three airs of hands, and in a
few seconds, in spite 0? his struggles, his arms
were securely bound behind his back.

Rose tried to reach him, but was seized and
forcibly'restrained by Senor Rosalba.

She sunk upon the ground and clasped the
knees of her mother’s husband, entrenting piti-
fully for her lover.

“ Spare him!” she exclaimed, while the tears
rnined'down her face. “ He has done no'harm.
It was all my fault. Kill me if you will, but
spare him! In the name of the Mother of
Cllll<l'r, I pray you to spare him!”

“Yes, surely I will spare him,” replied her
step-father. “I do not know of any one who
can better be spared. You must learn to spare
him, too, as you will miss him hereafter.”

At these cruel words her tears burst forth
afresh. ,

“Ask no favors of him, Rose,” said young
Dorlon. “You might as well hope to move
yonder mountains with your prayers. 'But I
warn *you, Pedro Rosalba, and those who are
with you, that you had better think twice about
Whatever it is that you propose to do. You are
mistaken if you suppose me to be friendless.
If I am missing, there are those who will *in-
quire about me, and who are able and willing to
take vengeance upon you for any wrong you
may do me.” '

Senor Rosalba laughed, and his laugh was
harsh and merciless. ' '

“I do not care the snapping of my finger,”
he said, “for you and all your friends, if you
have any. Your threats have not the weight of
a feather. Take him awav, amigos!”

Rose staggered to her feet, and again stretched
out her hands in entreaty. ‘

“ Answer me one word,” she begged. “ What
do you mean to do with him? Tell me—oh, in

mercy tell me that you do not mean to kill
im!’

“1 will tell you no lie,” coldly re lied the '

Mexican. “ The accursed Gringo s all die.
Within an hour his flesh will feed the buzzards
and wolves 1”

With a cry she sunk u on the ground, pale I

as death and seemingly li eless.

Edward Dorlon stru ed to reach her: but,
bound and held, he co d scarcely move from
his tracks.

" You cowardly brute!” he exclaimed. “ You
have killed her. You shall yet suffer for this.”

“ It is nothing to you ” sneer-ingly replied Ro-
salba. “ At least it w
hour from now.” ,

“ Shall I not take her to the house, uncle
Pedro?” asked one of those who were holding
Dorlon—a tall, heavily-built, low-brewed and
sullen-featured young man. «

“No, Manuel. Leave her alone, and let her
come to her senses when she will. There is but
one cure for such a case as here. Bring on that
fine bit of buzz'ard bait.” I

The Mexican led the way, and Dorlon was
partly led and partly dragged through the
timber toward the west. a

About fifteen minutes after they had left the ’
spot, two‘ others came to where Rose Was lying ‘

senseless under the cottonwoOdS.

One was the boy Lean, who had come‘so
quickly at Senora Itosalba's call. The other
was a youth, perhaps a little older than Leon.
but hardly so tall. whose distorted form marked
him as the hunchbacked step-brother of whom

Rose had spoken to young Dorlon. His face. 
darkly pale, Was by no means handsome; but

thera'was a human expression inhis soft e es,
that told of a gentle and lovingsoul. He w ed
with a cane, and was almost breathless when

be nothing to you in an .

 

 

‘ “77

his crooked limbs had brought'him to the spot ~f

where the girl lay. , .
“Poor Rose!” he exclaimed as he knelt on
giro rfiund all;  side,” “,"ldrv Gagewter!
ha. ave e one on , us,
Leon! Bheis dead!” y ‘

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, ~ ' Buck Farley, the Bonanga Prince. ' - 3

 

 

i . .__

, i As the other lad bent down and gazed intent
: ly at the lifeless face, the girl’s eyes opened, and
' '” her lips arted. ‘

“ hich way did they go?”
She could only shake her head sadly.
“ I can guess " said Benito, as he rose to his
feet with the elp of his cane. “ They have
one to Death Gulch. I will follow them, dear
ose, and I will tr to save him."
Her eyes thanke him; but her hopeless face
told him that she had no faith in his success.
' “Stay with her, Leon! Take her to the
house as soon as she is able to Walk. Have no
. fear for me, Rose. I will do my best.” _
. The hunchback hobbled own as fast as his
! infirm limbs could carry him w th the help of
his cane. I
Dorlon’s captors in the mean time had taken
him about half a mile further through the
b timber toward the west. Then they lifted him

i
,“ "She is not dead. Benito,” said Leon.
1. V, Both of them raised her in their arms, and
" i she shuddered as she looked around.
: “What does this mean?” she feebly muttered.
“Oh, Benito, is it you? They have taken him
i ' away.”
i ' “Who has been taken away, dear Rose? Is
1 i it Dorlon?” '
1  “Yes, it is Dorlon. They have taken him
L awa to kill him.”
/

in their arms, waded the stream, set him down

on the other side of the creek, and pursued a

north ward course over the broken prairie.

The man who was doomed to death walked
among them, one at each side, one behind him,
and Pedro Rosalba leading the way.

, He did not speak to them. as he know well
. that neither entreaties nor threats would avail
’ V to prevent their foul purpose. His face was
J * pale in the growing darkness; but his eye did
not quail, and his lips were closed firmly as he
walked with steady steps to certain death.

Nor did his executioners care to use their
tongues. They no longer reviled or taunted
him, and said nothing of the fate that was in
store for him. Even to them there was some-
thing awful in their errand, and Pedro Rosalba

‘ found no brutal jests ready to raise the spirits
of his comrades. They looked neither at their
prisoner nor at each other, and even forbore
to curse when the broken ground betrayed their
footsteps.

Thus they silently pursued their northward
course, as swiftly as the difficulties of the way
would allow, until they reached the edge of a
chasm, where the ground, for the space of sev-
eral acres, seemed to have sunk in some awful
convulsion of nature, leaving an oblong space
in which nothing but darkness was visible.

Edward Dorlon was no stranger to the place,
for it was known for and wide as Death Gulch,
. and its reputation was that of a. bottomless pit.

At noontime, when the sun was shining, trees

and rocks could be distinguished for a. consider-

able distance down its dark sides: but further
clown there were depths that no eye could pene-

» , - trate at any time or in any light. A stone cast
. far out from the edge gave back no sound when
l'. it descended, and it was the currentlbelief of
‘the white men, as it was the tradition of the red-
. men, that its depth could not be sounded. \
t a No livin thing thathad fallen into that fear-
. ful chasm ad ever been known to emerge from

its secret recesses, and the spot was avoided

even in daylight by men and beasts, as if there

was danger in approaching it.

The moon, then near the full, had riSen, and
was shining brilliantly in an almost cloudless
i ' sky, silvering the broad prairie at the east, and
' lighting up the rook: and gullies near the chasm;

but the brightness of the moonlight onl served
. to make dee r and more intense the arkness

of Death Gu ch. ,

As Dorlon and his captors stood near the
brink of that black abyss, their faces pale and
unearthly under the stars, he knew, the fate to
which the cruelt of Pedro Rosalba. and the
mean jealous of anuel Vincente had doomed

, ,i ‘ him; but he id not flinch, and he disdained to
. ' ~ sue for mercy.
 i . Atasi n mm the Mexican his legs Were tied

,  at the an Ice. but he was left standing.

'. Then for the first time since be h left the

. r \ spot where Rose lay lifeless on the ground, he

 ‘ opened his lips to speak. _ I
I ; v. ‘ . He looked upon the four men whostood about
it I hire and they shrunk from his so. ~

,“l know you all,” he sai —-“ you, Pedro

I Rosalba; you, Manuel Vincents; you, Bill

Saunders; and you, Mike Rafferty. I know
what you mean to do, and that there is no 'es—
ea or me. But I warpvflyou all that from
this night henceforth you 1 be marked men.
You shall yet pay the debt you owe me, and,
living or dead I will be on hand for the settle-
'ment. Now do your worst i’?

, The four men actually trembled. There was
an im ressiveness in the words of their victim
that stiuck fear to the depths of their brutal na-

“ Bahl” exclaimed Rosalba, with a harsh and

forced laugh- ‘fThe fellow talks like a fool.

. ' . Seize him, amigos! Swinaghim 08, and let
  I 'him tell hisstory to the dos '1’.’ '

- , ' Theyaliftefi the hel less man with their hands

V ‘ I f" Basal andhis nep ew atxthe shoulders, and

 

 

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the others at his legs; and thus the held him,
with his feet pointing toward the b ack abyss.

At that moment Benito. exhausted by his ex-
ertions, and almost breathless, struggled to-
ward them.

“Fatherl” he cried, “what are you doing?
Do not kill that men! For God’s sake~for my
sake—do not kill him!”

“Getaway from here!” said Rosnlba, turn-
ing a frowning face upon the deformed lad.
“ go back as you came, or I will whip you like
a. o l »

“ Do not kill him!" cried Benito again. “ It
is murder!”

He had scrambled up the side of a gully, and
was within reach of them, his pale face up-
turned to the moonlight, and his eyes stream—
in with tears.

ith an oath the Mexican raised his foot,
without loosing his hold on Dorlon’s shoulder,
and fiercely spurned the lad. Benito fell back-
ward into the gully, and- lay there, breathless
and bleeding.

“ Now, my lads,” said Rosalba, “ let us make
an end of this. Swing him as I count.

“One—swing!

“Two—swing]

“ Three—go !" i .

At the word “ Go I” their helpless victim was
shot out over the edge of the abyss, and fell
down into the darkness. His cxecutioners
looked and listened, but neither saw not heard
anything more.

CHAPTER III.
DOWN IN THE narras.

EDWARD DORLON involuntarily closed his
eyes when he was let loose from the murderous
hands that had swung him, and held his breath
as he went downwar .

He was keenly alive to the sensation of fall-
ing, and only wondered whether the breath
would be out of his body before he reached the
bottom of Death Gulch, if that fearful chasm
had any bottom.

He did not fall to the bottom, and the breath
was not driven out of his body by his rapid
descent.

That side of Death Gulch was not perpen-
dicular, as it was generally supposed to be, and
the strength of his four executioners was not
sufficient to send him clear of its shelving slope.

Far below the spot from which he had been
shot, forth, a tall cedar tree sent its trunk up-
ward toward the sunlight, and its top, flat,
broad, and with many green and robust
branches, spread out there as if it had grown
with the one purpose of catching that doomed
man in its strong embrace.

It was a fearful fall, but. not a killing one.
Thanks to his precaution in holding his breath,
it was still in his body when he struck the
tree, and the shock,caused him to o n his
mouth and take in an ample supply of air.

He fell with great violence, and crashed down

 

.through the branches of the tree, doubling up

his body, and bruising and tear-in his flesh
severely; but finally the resistance 0 the cedar
limbs overcame the impetus of his fall, and he
descended no further. _

Then he rested, if the cessation of motion'
could be called rest. He found himself doubly
helpless. Not only was be bound hand and foot,
but he lay in such an awkward position, and
had been so roughly handled b contact With
the tree, that it was fortune to into attem t
to move. Yet he was alive, and the thong t
was a comfort to him, whatever fate the near
future might hold in store. »

So he rested, or at least remained quiet, until
he had regained possession of his senses, and
gifair portion of his strength had returned to

m. A
Then he endeavored, with such feeble means
as he was able to use, to ascertain his exact
position, and to cast about for a. we of escape
groin the peril that was so pal y pressing

m1. , .

The‘darkness that enveloped him was more
intense than that of any night he had ever
experienced. It was an utter and absolute
blackness, that hemmed him in and pressed
u ’n him until it seemed as if it would smother
h in. By no straining of the eyes could he possi-
bly see anything, and the cords‘that so tightly
bound his arms and wrists prevented him from
using those useful members, his hands, for feel-‘

in . , ,‘a
§et he could feel. The sensations of his body,
inful and otherwise, could give him some in-
ication of his position, and his fingers were

partly free.

Concentrating his mind upon the point of
discovery, he concluded that he was lying across
two branches of the tree, and perceived that his
shoulders were higher than the rest of his body.
gang? page“ :llziexplac tpliereithe branches

e,or own . spread so an,-
apartas to let him ¥all¥thro§§b To test this
matter he wormed himself inward though at
the risk of falling, until he could touch thetrunk
with his head. ' ‘ ' ‘ »

His next discov . was that he was also 1 ing
ona portion of at at branch, that had. on
crushed downward by his‘weight. Feeling it as
well as he could with'his fingers, he came

/ .\ . a

, -

 

 

across a fractured pics of wood, where one of

the side shoots had been broken from the bent

branch. It was rough and jaggfd, and the
e

t'lfiaought occurred to him that h ad a use for
1

Above all things it was necessary that he
should get his hands free, and this ragged ieco
of wood at least offered him a chance. 18s he
could feel it with his fingers, it was not a very
dificult matter to move his body so that the
cord that hound his wrists should come in con-
tact with it, and then he would try what fric-

. tion‘and patience would do.

When he had succeeded in getting the cord
against the broken wood, he moved his arms u
and down with the action of sawing. He. be
little play for them, bound as they were, but
that little was sufficient for his purpose, if it
could be accomplished in any way.

Bruised and sore as his body was, and in his
strained position, the labor was tiresome and
painful; but he persevered, as that was his only
chance of safety. It was a serious question
which would wear out first. the cord or the

broken wood; but time would tell, and there '

was at least a little hope to cheer him as he»
worked.

It was his exhausted nature that first gave
way. Even as he was rubbin the cord against
the wood, he fell asleep, and s ept soundly.

He was awakened by the flapping of heavy
wings. A buzzard, in the gray light of dawn,
had spied him slee ing in the branches of the
Cedar, had suppose him to be a corpse, and had
come down to fbast on him. But his opening
eyes stayed the flight of the foul bird, and his
hoarse cry scared it away.

It flew upward, waitin patiently, and he
knew what it was waiting or. . ,

This incident fully roused him to a sense of
his situation, and again he set at work to rub
the cord against the broken wood, It was. a
tiresome and almost hopeless task, and at limos
lie rested from it, nearly ready to despair,‘
doubting if he had not etter twist himsilf
loose from the branches that held him, and
accept whatever fate his fall would give him.

But again and a sin be renewed the task,
with the energy 0 despair, and at last the

loosening of the cord at his wrist told him that

it had given way!

The relief from the long strain was so great
that he nearly swooped; but again he roused
himself toexertion, and endeavored to get rid
of the cord. Fortunately for him, only one
frfilld had been tied, and he was able to shake it
0

His hands were free, and that meant a chance: '

for life.

He dually brought them around in front
of his dy, and rubbed his arms until the blood
flowed free] through them, and strength-
returned to t em. Then it we an easy matter
to cast off the lashings that bound his feet, and
a thrill of joy ran through him as he knew that
he was master of himsel . ,

There was a faint light down there in thatop‘
of the cedar,
stronger. Looking upward he saw red
in the sky, which told him that day was break-

in . . . .
fie tpok his watch from his pocket, and held

it to his ear. To his surprise, it was still run- A
. Its lively .
licking seemed to tell him that he was not done;

niiig, and he hastened to wind it.

with time.

He secured upon his person the cox-dc with >

which hahad been bound, and pre

pared to .
down further into the depths, as it was clears; -

im ible to ascend the gulch. _ _ ,

t was an easymatter to descend, tree at
far as the branc es went, and then be I d down
to its base. The latter part of thade did
not lack much of.b.eing,a fall, and when he
reached the round his breath was nearly gone.‘
and his ban and arma‘were blistered. ‘

When he had rested, he arose and looked

around, and found himself on a narrow lodge. ‘ '

In the uncertain li ht he saw something lying
near him on the t rock, and ho‘etooped to
examine it. It proved to be the clothes and
skeleton of a man, from which the flesh'had
been picked clean by bumrds. ’

Overcomin a strong repugnance, he examln. ‘.
ed the cloth ng for weapons, and found a ,re~ _
volver and a bowie-knife, scarcely rusted, and — r

a belt of cartrigldgiegall of which be secured tip--
onhisownper .‘a- ,
‘ Evidently lie-did not believe that his lease of
life had run out. , '
There \was another thing that he found there
—a long lariat otmwhide, coiled. and in good
condition, and this be seized eager] :
Then he step to the edgeof t e rook, and
looked down in the chasm. ‘ «‘
Daylight had not yet penetrated the remote-t
depths.“ the gulch; but hecould see, eta cons
id arable distance below hfin, the to of another
tallcedar and he thou ht that
thefi’hfiatkdmightnh: :1 {go/11;?CEI it. ,
e p,ane, epaeropedm
the face of. the almond strained
watch it as it‘swung, but was sure that it did
not reach the tree. ’ x .
This fault he proceeded to remedxpteonee.
He had saved t a cords, with which he hadi

the aid at

his eyes to '

which was gradually wing I
‘5’...» »

4

‘ Buck Farley," the Bonanza Prince.

 

 

‘ been bound, and had good reason to know that
they Were stron . He carefully spliced them
together—he ha been a sailor in his boyhood—
and knotted them to the lariat, one end of
which be secured to a point of rock, with as lit-
tle waste of rope as ssible.

Letting the line own again, he swung him-
self off from the ledge, and trusted to the chances
of descent, climbing down the rope hand under
hand, until he reached its end. it was hard
work grasping the slim line and holding up his
own weight. His sinews had been strained to
the utmost, and—what had he gained?

Taming his eyes downward, he saw that the
top of the tree was still at a considerable dis-
tance below-him—it might be twenty, thirty,
or even fifty feet—distance being only guess—
work in that twilight.

But he could not returd, and must soon drop,
with his will or against it, and he hoped that he
could drop safely into~the top of the cedar. He
had already fallen into one tree, from a greater
distance and when he was bound and helpless,
so that he fell like a log. Surely his chances
Were much better for this venture.

There was nothing else for it, and he let go!

As he had the full use of his senses, as well as
of his arms and legs, it was only at the expense
of a few more scratches and bruises that he
Secured a lodgment in the boughs of the cedar.

Again he rested, and then descended the tree
to its base, where he carefully observed the po-
sition of aflairs. '

By this time the light of day had penetrated
into the chasm below him, and he made a dis-
covery that caused his heart to jump for joy.

Death Gulch was not bottomless!

He could see down there what had the appear-
! ance of a valley, and it looked to be green and

pleasant, though still in the shadow.

It was on the edge of- a rugged slope that he
stood—a steep slople, mostlly covered with loose
stones, with only ere an there a. pro‘ecting

iece of rock that afforded a hold for eet or

ands. ‘ 1

Such as it was, he must descend it and he be-
éan to climb down with the utmost caution.

very n0w and then his feet would slip or
stones would come rattling down upon him ; but
he always managed to recover himself and to
escape t 6 worst of those small avalanches.

So he continued the dangerous descent, until
he was far below the base of [the second cedar,
and had reached the foot of the slope.

It terminated at another ledge of rock, be-
neath which the cliff fell away perpendicularly,
until it reached a gentler slope, overgrown with
trees and other verdure, that stretched down

' to the valley.

If he could reach the foot of that cliff, he
would be safe; but it was 'quite impossible to
climb down, and any attempt to descend could
only result in death or a bad case of broken
bones.

After all his perils and toils. he had reached
this point, only to find his efforts completel
foiled. Almost at his terrible journeg s on ,

'he was shut 03 from further progress. 0 near,
and yet so farl --

If he only had the rope in which he had let

' himself down from the ledge above! ,

It was a vain wish, and he sunk down on the
rock in despair. Should he cast himself down
headforemost, and seek a speedy death, or
await starvation and the buzzards? .

Then there came to his ears the incredible
sound of a human voice, reaching to him from
below, and never was speech more welcome to
him than this one word:

“ Hello!”

 

CHAPTER IV.
ran SOLITARY.
Enwmn Doamx sprung to his feet, and
on erl looked over the edge of the clifl.

. I n t e top of a tree below him he sawaliving
thing, but was obliged to look twice before be
con] determine whether it was a human being

" or a beast. It was clothed entirely in skins,

, and its face was covered with a. very heavy
growth of gray hair. But the voice told the

star . 7
“hello!” was shouted again, unmistakably in

V the voice of a man. '

“ Hello!” answered Dorlon.

“ Are you all right? Any bones broke?”

“ All rlgl‘ a so far.”

“ I saw you up there, and came to help you
down. If can throw this line 19 you, you will
soon be at fe.’,’

The man had evidently climbed the tree for
tiligtpur of getting nearer to the top of they
ci .
his  ht hand, w ch held a coiled 'lariat of
rawhi e.

“ Stand by to catch it!” he shouted.

, At the first throw the line fell short. - At the
second throw Dorlon caught it. He made it
fast to a rock, and quick! descended, hand
under hand, reaching the oot ofthe cliff in
time to meet the stranger, who had climbed
down the tree. _

’ He _was a tall gaunt, angular man, and his

gray hair and heard showed that‘he Was ad-

vanced in ears.” His skin clothing. from which
the fur b not been removed, was well made

6 cut awaiia branch, to give swing to‘

 

and fitted; but his hat of the same material was
decidedly “queer.” It shaded his brows so that
nothing of his face was visible where it was not
covore by beard, except his nose and eyes.

His eyes sparkled with evident pleasure as be
advanced to the man he had rescued, and he
held out his hand, which Dorlon grasped.

“ I owo you my 1ife,”suid the oung man.

“ I have lost in lasso, but ave gained a
companion,” replie the stranger.

Then ashade of trouble came into his eyes,
and he looked at the new-comer earnestly. '

“ Tell me, honest] .” he said, “ can you under-
stand what I sa 1 o I speak English?”

“ Of course can understand you,” replied
Dorlon. “ You speak as well as I do."

“I was not sure. It is so long since I have
heard any voice but my own.”

“ How long have you been here, sir?”

“ About twelve years, if m count is ri lit."

“ Twelve years!” repeated orlon, looking in
wonder at the man who had endured solitary
confinement in that valley for such 3. ion th of
time, and at once jumping to the cone usion
that he also must be a prisoner for life in the
same lace. '

“ es, it must be twelve years. A miracle
hap ened then. But here is another miracle.
Ho did you get down here? 1 did not catch
sight of you until you reached the ledge just
above us. ’

“I was bound hand and foot,” replied Dor-
lon, “and was tossed over from the edge of the
gulch. ever so far up yonder.”

“ Merciful Heaven! Who was guilty of that
murderous act?”

“ How can their names interest you? The
leader was a wealthy ranchman, named Pedro
Rosalba.” ’

The stranger’s eyes gleamed, and he fairly
shook with excitement.

“ Pedro Rosalbal” he exclaimed. “ Does that
wretched assassin still live? Has the justice of
God not yet overtaken him? Why did he seek
to murder you? Did he want your wife and
yougproperty '5”

“ o. I have neither wife nor property. It
was I who wanted his daughter.”

“ Has he a daughter, then?” V

“ His step-daughter, I should have said—his
wife’s child by a former husband, who dis-
appeared years a go.” , '

“ So Pedro Rosalba married the disconsolato
widow, and new rules the ranch. But Rose is
livingl She must be a women now.” _

“ She is,” replied Dorlon. “But who are you,
sir, who know so much about those people?’

“ I am Henry Warren, Rose’s father, the man
who disappeared, and the rightful owner of
that property.”

Dorlon again grasped the old man’s hand.

“ What aprovidence is this I” said he. “ You
spoke of a miracle. How were you lost and
saved?"

“I was waylaid by Pedro Rosalba and his
tools, and was thrown down into the lch as
you were, exce t that I was not boun . I do
not want to tel the story. I doubt if I could
tell it. It was daytime, and I may have had a
better chance than you had; but at this day I
can hardly even Bguess how I got to the bottom
of the gulch. ut your face is bloody, and
your hands are blisfered, and I know that you
must be sore and tired and hungry. Come With
me to my den, where you shall have enough to
eat and a chance to rest.”

Dorlon followed the old man down the easy
descent of the wooded slope. They emerged in
a narrow valley, where the grass was abupdant
and the foliage green-and luxuriant. A Silvery
brook ran domi this valley, and all was calm
and peaceful. The sun was by this time well
up in the sky, and it was'ligh enough at the
bottom of Death Gulch, though it was only for
a small portion of the day that the rays of sun-
ll ht fairly reached its recesses. I

t was a pleasant place, ' a man could think
of it otherwise than as a prison.

“Is there no way to get out of here?” asked
the oung man.

His companion sadly shook his head.

Dorlon looked u at the lofty walls that shut
in the gulch, and ecided that the situation was
hopeless. The north side was a sheer preci ice,‘
with nothing to break its solid front of a ne,
and as for the south side, b which he had en-
tered—he knew enough of t at. , r
‘ Henry Warren led the young man to a place
under the north cliff. where a natural cavern
had been so improved by years of slow and pa-
tient labor. that Dorlon was so rised to see
what a neat and comfortable a e it was.

The rocky floor was covered with skins, and
there were several rude articles of furniture
mostly made of roots and gnarled branches 0
trees, put together with much taste, and in a
workmanlike manner. In front of the opening
to the cavern a slow fire was burning, and theol
man throw on some dry sticks, which soon
brought it to a blaze.

, Dorlon went down to the brook and washed
himself. Then he applied to his bruises and
Blisters some ointment which the old ’man gave

im. . '

By this time Mr. Warren had broiled on.the
cos 8 some slices of venison, and be surprised

\

 

 

his guest by setting before him some {wheat
cakes, that had been baked in the ashes. This,
with a wooden bowl filled with water from the
brook, was Dorlon’s breakfast, and he atefas if
he on 'oyed it heartily.

“ here do you get your flour?” he asked.

“ I raise my own wheat,” replied the old man.
“ I will show you in farm after a while.” '

“As you seem to ave a plenty, it is hardly

down here."

“ It was pretty hard at first, my son, until I’
learned how to take care of myself, and to make
traps and snares. For a while I was obliged to
depend on wmdfalls, and was often on short
rations. This gulch,’ as ou must know, is a.
death-trap. Animals 0 ten fall into it, and.
sometimes they reach the bottom. The first-
meat I got was a buflalo, butchered in that
way, and numbers of cattle have fallen in. Do
you see all these skins? They are from wind-
falls, and I have had many more. There are
black-tailed deer down here, and I have tamed
them, and there is quite a family of us. In the
brook there are plenty of fish, and I can easily
catch them. Oh, it is easy enough to live here,
and it is not so very hard to live alone, when
you have Once got used to it. I never expected
to see the face of any living human being again,
nor did I care much about it; but another
miracle has brou ht on here, and things look'
different to me a rea y. I am not sure that I
would not be glad to get away, if I could.”

“ ls it uite impossible, then, to get away from
here?" as ed the young man.

“’Qulte so, my son—quite so, unless you could

worth while to ask how you manage to liver 1

It was such a leasure to the old man to have
somebody total to, and he took such an evi-
dent delight in the sound of his own voice, that
Dorlon let him run on, and gave answers to
all his questions concerning Rose, the Rosalbas
the cattle farm, and many matters connecte
with the upper world, until he could no longer
he]? awake.

r. Warren, noticing his weary eyes, begged
his pardon for having fatigued him with so
much talk, and prepared for him a couch of
skins, and he lay down and slept luxuriously. \

When he‘awoke the shadow of a long twi-
light hed enveloped the valley, and the old man
was preparing their evening meal by a bright

e.

“ Where do'ycu get your tools?”'asked Dor-
lon, as he was assisting in this task, and noticed
the knife that his host was using.

“ I had a how1e and a heavy pocket-knife
when i came in, and-since then I have found
two similar knives on the body of a man who
fell over the north clifl’. I have been very care-
ful of my knives, and have been dreading the
time when they will be used up.”

Dorlon said that he had two knives, together
wéth two revolvers and a quantity of cart-
ri ges.

f‘ There will be no use for the revolversf" re-
plied t‘ne old man, “unless we can find some
way of making blades of them; but the knives
Will be very useful, and will last us, with good
care, for—well, along time.” ’

“A long time!” echoed Dorlon.
chance at all to get out of this gulch?”

“No chance at all!”

They talked by the light of a wick floating in
a dish of deer-fat until a late hour. When Dor-
lon again laid himself down to sleep, the hope-
lessness of his situation ressed upon him, and
those ominous words, ‘ No chance at all!”
key; buzzing in his head.

euld not death, he thou ht, have been pref-
erable to imprisonment for ifel,

At last he slept and dreamed of dungeons.

 

CHAPTER v.
THE SECRET‘OF GOLD.

Tin: next morning was a busy one for Edward
Dorlon, and he took a real pleasure in life at
the bottom of the gulch, as it then opened before

him. ~"
He went with the old man to visit the deer, ,

and found them plentiful and quite tame. Un—
able to escape from the valley, they had become
agenstbmed to the resenee of Mr. Warren, and
did not fear him. e had begun by petting the
fawiis, and the entire flock was then gentle and
faggliar. . ‘ i

e two men caught fish in the brook with
books made of bone, and lines made of shown.
in the Indian fashion. Then they went to visit ‘
Mr. Warren’s “ tuna.” and there was a sight
for which Dorlan had not been prepared ’

‘At its western end the gulch turned find the, /

valley. extended, with ii. gentle u ward

short distance toward the north.pIn thissiigfi’e: '
as it may be called, the valley was wide‘rthan’
at any other part of the gulch, and a considers?
his part of its width was covered with a field of
wheat, tall, well-headed and beginning to ripen.
There was also quite a field of com, a, patch
devoted to the camash plant and sundry vegetap'

bios and an orcnard of wild lums. A1] , '
was, rded from the deer by i: stone fencefm“
“ here did you get our seed?” asked M V

lon, wondering at what e saw.

“ Is there no .

J‘s-hi.

l

i
@

Dw- 

 

 

wru-

7371:3190 Erwv‘u' Haw yum h.-

W‘s”

 

 

 

 

' for a barrel of salt.

,provo that.

 

BuckVFarley, the Bonanza fPi-inoe." ‘, ' I J

 

“When I was pitched over,” replied the old
man, “ I happened to have in my pocket 8.
package of wheat that had been sent to me
from Washington for trial. The other seeds I
have mostly found in the stomachs of cattle
that have fallen into this. death-trap. The
cumash and the plum grow Wild; but I have im-
proved them by cultivation.”

Dorlon wondered how sunshine, sufficient to
ripen the grain, could find its way down there.

“The farm gets a good dose of sunshine in
the afternoon,’ said Mr. \Varren. “ Wait a lit-
tle while and on will see it.” .

They w‘aite , and soon the portion of the valv
ley iiiclosed by the stone fence was flooded with
sunlight.

“I will show you where that comes from,”
said the old man, and he led his friend around
to what was at that point the western side of
the gulch, where a strange spectacle was pre-
sented to their sight.

From near the foot of the clifl? there wash
broad opening, leading upward at a. steep slo ,
further than the eye could follow it. be
opening was similar to that which might have

been left by a land-slide, except that it was of
:stone, nearly as smooth as a lumber slide. At;
the middle of this wide trough was a deep
depression, worn by the action of water, down
which a clear brook was then running with the
velocity of a waterfall.
' “A splendid water-privilege,” remarked Dor-
Llon.

But it was not only admiration of the won-
ders of nature that caused him to examine that
strange break in the clifl? so closely.

. ‘* Is there no chance to get out by that chute?”
lie asked.

“ Of course there is not,” replied the old man.
"‘ You might as Well think of trying to climb a
rainbow, and if we could get to the top, would
we then' be anywhere?”

“ We would at least be out of here.”

.“You are crazy on the subject of getting out,
my son. I was so for some time until I settled
«down. I have studied that matter for years,
.and there is no chance.”

Dorlon was not convinced. /

“ You would not have believed that we could
:get in here alive.” he said. “ Would it be any
ggreater wonder if we should get out?”

When they had eaten their supper of fish,
they leaned back on the piles of skins in the
cavern, and smoked, in pipes that Warren had
made of the valley clay, a dried weed that was
a fair substitute for tobacco.

“As far-as living is concerned,” said Dorlon,
‘“ there is but one thing needed down here, and
“that is salt.”

"I do feel the lack of salt,” replied the old
'man, “ but have got on without it, and have
‘been healthy. There is a good deal of value in
this gulch. If we could get out of here, my
.son, we ,need never need for anything that
mone can buy.”

“ hat do on mean?" asked Dorlon.

“ Come wit me, and I willshow you.”

The old man took his deer-fat lamp, and led
the way to the back part of the cavern. There
{he drew aside a pile of skins, and disclosed a
hell; in the rock, that was full of nuggets of
;go i . ’

Dorlon knelt down and examined the “pile,”
:freel expressing his deli ht and amazement.

“ don’t know why has that stufl! hid.
down here where there is no ody to steal it,”
said Warren. “ I in a it must be because of
my reuiembranbe of t a world of thieves I used
to live in. I don’t know why I have taken the
trouble to gather it, either, unless Idid_it for
jpastime, as the gold is of no use at all in this
valley. 1 would gladly give the whole of it

“ That would be a costly barrel of salt,” re-
marked Dorlon. “ Where does the gold come
:from 1‘" ‘ ‘ '

“ I have picked up those nuggets alon the
brook, and washed them out of t e sand. hey
come from a vein at the head of the gulch, and
such’a vein! I will show it to you in the morn-
Jng- , ,

.As soon as the light would allow, they went

' to the head of the gulch, where the brook, in its

hendlon tumble into the chasm had cut a
channel in the face of the rocky clifl.

“ Do you know anything about rocks and
mining, in son?” asked th old man.

“I have ad some exper me as a miner and
as a mining engineer.” ‘ ' ‘

“ What do you think of that, then, as a gold-
bearing rock?”

Mr. Warren pointed upward at the channel
'worn by the water, and Dorlon examined the
face of the cliff closely. The brook had evident-
ly out a large vein of quartz, and the young
man saw, or fancied he could see, bright streaks
of gold in thp rock.

“ There is gold in that rock, and plenty of it,”
.he said. '

“Yes; the nuggets that have- washed out
Can you make out the track of
the vein. and fudge what it amounts to???

“I believe can. I am_willing to bet that I
«could go, if I were out of this place, right to
where it crops out at the surface of the earth. .I
am inclined to believe, too. that the vein we

 

see, big as it is, is only a branch of a bigger vein.
There is wealth enough in that rock to make
both of us billionaires. ’

“ But it will never be of any use to us as long
as we live,” sadly replied the old man.

“I am not so sure of that as you seem to be.
We must get out of this place.”

“ That is just what I said when I began to
find the gold. I was crazy to get out of the
gulch, But I quieted down in‘ time, and gave
it up.

Still Dorlon was not convinced. He was
young, and was not dis oscd to believe in im-
possibilities. He looks up at the clitl? and the
channel cut by the water, and his gaze finally
settled en the brook that ran through the val-

e .

33‘ It is not easy to discourage me,” he said,
“ and I am not ready to believe that we are
shut up in this hole for life. It would be possi-
ble, if our tools could hold out, to cut steps in
that slide that lets in the sunshine.”

“ I have thought of that,” replied the old
man, “ and have given it up lon since, Our
tools would not carry us far. ven if you
could get to the top of the slide, where would
you be then?”

“ As 1 said before, we would at least be out
of here. But there is another point. This
brook’ is quite a stream, and I have noticed
other brooks below, some of which feed it, and
some do not. There must be a great deal of
water that has to get out of this place, especial-
ly in the rainy season. W here is the outlet?"

“ I have told you, my son, that the water
sinks into the ground down yonder at the foot
of the gulch.” I '

“Let us go there; I want to see the place where
it sinks into the ground.” ,

" Come on then. But you needn’t be in such
a hurry. You have lots of time before you—-
years of them, if you live and endure them——
and it will not be long before you settle down
as l have done."

But Dorlon felt no such misgivings at the mo-
ment. A new idea had seized him, and he was
eager to follow it up and know what it would
ead to. He saw onl one impossibility, and
thatrwas that he shou d be doomed to waste his
young life in that gulch, when a fortune lay
within his grasp.

He hastened down the valley, hurrying the
tardy footsteps of the old man and noting as he
went the rivulets that fed the main stream, un-
til they reached the foot of the gulch. .

There the place where the water sunk into the

ound was plainly visible. The brook sudden-
y dropped into a dark hole, at the distance of
a few rods from the cliff, and that was all that
could be seen.

But it was possible that something more
might be heard. -

Dorlon lay down on the ground, with his ear

over the hole,‘and listened, while his com anion.

shook his head sadly, though an amus smile
rested on his face.
The young man arose from the ground with a

bright look of satisfaction.

‘f‘This is better than I had hoped for,” he,

said.

“_What do on menu!” asked Mr. Warren.

“1 can pla nly hear the water roaring down
there, and am convinced that there is a lar
volume of it. The stream that‘comes down t e
slide onder—where does that empty 3"

“ hat, also, sinks into the ground, a little
may beyond here.” v

he young man went to the other sink, where
he looked and listened for a while. Then he re-
turnedto the principal hole, which he examined
more carefully than before.

“Just as I thought,” he said. “There is no
such roaring at the other hole as I find here,
and I have no doubt that this is the main sink,
where all the water of the valley is collected,
and from which it passe away.”

“ Well, and what of that?" asked Mr. War-

ren. .
“ Just this—as the other sinks are merely
feeders of this one, there must be a pretty] e
bold! of water below us here. -It woul be a
su to say that it drops down to the middle of
the earth, or that it sinks away and is lost. We
have a right to all use that it finds an outlet
into some lower va ey, and that it has bored 9.
hole for its ssa hrough the cliff. That
hole is boun to a big one, and it is quite

likely. that it may let us out, as well as the .

water. As this water sinks down into the earth,
I propose that we follow it until we reach the
place where it takes a fresh start as a stream.”

“ You have got it had, my son,” said the old
man shaking his head.

“ t what?” ’

“ The craze for getting out. It nearly drove
me wild before I conquered it. But I suppose
gfijugnust go through the fever, the same as I

“ Fever or no fever,” re lied Dorlon, “ I be-
lieve that the water wills ow us the way out
of thegulch, and I am convinced that we will
not have to dig for before we find the outlet.”

“ Very well; I don’t want to discourage on,
and can ready to go to work. We must ave
something to pass the time, and mayo: well do

that as anything! j

'merel

 

fl

CHAPTER VI.
FOLLOWING THE WATER.

TooLs were needed for the/excavation. and
underground exploration, and the two prisoners
set at work to make such articles as they could,
of the hardest wood the valley afforded. The
old man was careful to make only such as
should, as he said, be useful to them while they
remained in the valley. It was evident that he
had no faith at all in the success of the enter-
prise. .

Dorlon, however, worked with spirit and
energy and the digging was soon begun.

An oblong excavation was made at the side of
the sink, with the intention of burrowing

under, or breaking down the partition, when .

the proper depth should be reached. The earth

was carried away in stout baskets which they I

made of green withes, and stones that were
too large for them to roll out were dug under
and allowed to go down with the excavation.
They also struck some heavy points of rock,
which they were obliged to leave, as they had
no means of blasting them or breaking them
up. .

The want of efficient steel tools was severely

felt, and the work of excavation proceeded

slowly. The hole, also, owing to obstructions

which it had not been possible to remove, be~

came smaller as they went down, until at last

it threatened to terminate in a point. »

This was the slate of the case at the end of
sixweeks’ work, when the hole had reached
a depth of about fifty feet, and was not likely
to get any deeper unless some better method of
excavation could be devised.

It was then that Dorlon, after listening at the
bottom of the hole, decided that the time had
come for breaking through the partition that
separated them from the sink, and they began
to dig in that direction. 7 .

When they had penetrated a little distance
into the
water fal ing on the other side, as if into a 00),
Mr. Warren was seized with some of Dar on's
enthusiasm, and put his whole heart into the
work. He said that it was only curiosity that
moved him, and that he merely wanted to see
what the sink really was;-but his companion
lwas sure that he showed strong symptoms of

0 e. I
0st of the work in the hole had been done

by the light of torches, as they had nearly exd '

hausted their supply of deer-fat, and were un-
willing to kill more animals than they needed,
for the sake of the fat.

At est they Were sure that they were nearly
through the partition, and Mr. Warren was
tugging at a bowlder that blocked the way.

‘Teke care I” shouted Dorlon, seizing the
old man and drawing him back, just as the etc 0
moved, not toward him, but from him, and fdll
into the water on the other side. '

At the same time n quantit
stones that had not been touch by the diggers
gave way, and took the same direction. ,

The two workers hastened to enlarge the
opening, taking pains not to a roach the r edge
too closely, and the limpses t ey caught of the
yiav beyond made t em yet more eager in the

a ,r. '

When they had enlarged the hole sufficiently
to suit their imposes, each seized a torch, and
hastened to t e edge. - '

There they behe d a spectacle so strange that

rtition, and could plainly hear the g

of earth and :

thgy gazed at it for awhile in silence. ,. . ‘
a

rdly more than ten feet below them was
the surface of a lake,‘ broad, dark ~and still,
overhung by the rock roof of a large cavern.

At the right the m n streamthct drained the
valley fell down in a torrent that gleamed and
glistened in the light of the torches. Before
them the brook that came from the slide cured
in, and other streams of water that fed 1: e lake
could be distinct! seen. . '

“This is 9. won or,” said Mr. Warren at lost.

“It is our salvation," replied Dorlon. “ This
is better than I hoped for. _

“There is a large body of water here; but I
can see‘ no outlet. ’

“There must be an outlet, and we will‘flnd
it. We have done a good day’s work, and now
it is time for supper." ‘

After supper, as they smoked the fragrant
weed in their pipes, they discussed the situation,
and hid plans to: avail ng themselves of their
great discoverylr

“ We must build a boat,” said Dorlon.

Warren suggested that a raft would be easier
to construct and safer to menu - but the
young man insisted that they shoulge'have such
a boat as would enable them to navigate the
passage through which the water‘made its way
out of the valley. ~

“ We will make a bull boat, than,” said W or-

ren. v

As he rofessed to be able to built that kind
of a era t. a bull boat was determined on.

The next day they set at work again more
zealously than ever, and Dorlon was surprised
to see how the old man's spirits had risen in
viewofthe possibility of escaping from his long
a‘nd wearisome imprisonment.

They lowered the excavation to the water’s
edge, rolled into the lake the large rocks which
they had not been able to remove, and made a

 

e" .

Buck Farley, the Bonanza. Prince. ,

 

 

 

gradual slope from the bo-‘tom of the pit to the
surface of the valley. so the: hey could h;ve an
easy approach to the Water.

Then they made a hull but—a construction
ofhides drawn tightly over a frame of poles,
the seams carefully sewn together with small
thongs, and heavily covered with pitch.

When this craft was completed, it looked
more like an oblong bowl than a boat; but they
carried it down to the lake, where it floated
well, and proved to be as tight as a drum.

They were in ecstasies over this achievement,
and Dorlon declared that they would be able to
carry a heavy freight away from the valley.

The boat was equipped with a seat at each
end, and two paddles, and then they were ready
toexplore the lake. They set out with eager
anticipations, Warren holding a. torch at the
bow. while Dorlon paddled.

After skirting the edge of the underground
lake, they finally reached a dark tunnel, to
which they had allowed the current to drift
them, and which was evidently the outlet of
the water.

"This is the place,” said Dorlon. “That is

. the route we must take to leave the valley.”

\ with a skin vessel filled with water.

“Do you mean to say that we must go
through that hole?" asked the old man.
“Certainly, and we should be glad of the
chance. The water goes out through that
channel, and we can do nothing but follow it.”
“Very well. It can‘t do more than kill us.
and we might as well be dead as shut up here.”
It was plain that Mr. Warren had changed
his tone considerably since he said that he had
settled down to Diet endurance of his lot. He
no longer showe the apathy of despair, but the
ca erness of hope.
aving determined to make the venture, they
cooked provi :ions for their journey into the un-
known, and stowed them away in the boat.
Then they
sewed up in sacks of hide as much of Warren’s
store of gold nuggets as they thought they
could safely carry, and fastened the sacks to
the timbers of the bull boat, so that they would
know where to find them, as Dorlon said, in
case the craft should founder. Finally, they
prepared a supply of torches, and were ready

I to start. ,

~

Mr. Warren sat in the bow with a torch, while
his companion occupied the stern, and paddled
the user craft straight into the dark tunnel.

“ am afraid, my son,” said the old man,
“that this bull boat will prove to beour coffin.”

“Better to die here than to make no stroke
for freedom,” replied Dorlon.

“What. if this stream should dro
other sink-hole, as it does at the

into an-
oot of the

. valley 1”

‘Then we must drop with it. Liberty or

» death is our motto nowl

“Perhaps this hole may becomeso narrow
that we can’t s users through it, and we may
stay in here an starve to death."

‘ I have no fear of that, Mr. Warren, what-
ever happens. But what is the use of borrowing

' trouble and dreaming ‘of disaster? I prefer to

r stro

toy that we shall pass safely th
nel which the water has bored in t 9 rock, and
come out in a green and beautiful valle , and
soon reach the habitations of men, an . then
hurrah for the Death Gulch mine i”

Dorlon’s enthusiasm was infectious, and the
old man grumbled no more.

Indeed, the prospect of escaping from the
valley seemed to be good, though he gloomy
tunnel might well depressythe spirits of the
voyagers into the unknown. The stream was
deep enough for the boat, and it flowed with a

an steady current, so that Dorlon’s
paddlin sent them forward at a pretty rapid
rater he hole continued to be large enough
for their passage, the course appeared to be a‘
straight one, and there were no obstructions
that threatened to wreck or stop them.

After about two hours of this safe but monot-
onous travel, and when they were beginning to
hope thgit they near 12339 ellld of t peg:
strange ourney, . arren an n drop
his torch and grasped the sides of theyboat.

“ Take care 2” he shouted. “ Hold on i”

Dorlon quickly shipped his paddle and braced
himself as well as he could, when the bull bout
pitched for ard and downward at a fearful
rate of s . At one moment it seemed to
drop straight down 3 at another it was nearly
buried by the rushing water and the flying
spray. The clumsy craft was whirled about at
t e mercy of the torrent, and the two voyagers,
crouched in the bottom, could do nothing but
accept whatever fate awaited them., '

" But the bull boat was buoyant, all the ballast
was in the bottom, and at last it floated in still
water at the foot of the torrent.

“ Are you there, Mr. Warren,” asked Dorlon.

“ I believe so.”

“All is safe, then. That was what may be
called a rapid.’i ,

“ Much too rapid for me, in son.” . .

“ But We are safe and soon , and now we will
take a fresh start.” '

It was first necessary to bale out the boat,
which was half-full of water. It was then dis-
covered that the hkd no torches: Thesupply

had been washe away, and they had no means-

h this tun-y

 

 

of striking a light, if torch timber had been
plentv.

“ We can go in the darkness just as well,”
said Dorlon. “There is no fear that we will
get out of our course.”

He changed places with the old man, who
paddled slowly, while his young friend, sta-
tioned at the bow, kept the bull boat in the
proper course, not by the sense'of sight, but by
that of feeling.

It was a. tedious and uncomfortable style of
traveling. The torch had been a great com-
fort to them. and the darkness was oppressive
since their light had been extinguished. The
doubts and dangers of their underground voyage
seemed to grow greater than ever, and it was
then clearly impossible for them to re'urn to
the gulch, whatever might happen. They had
shot one dangerous rapid, and at any moment,
with nothing to warn them, they might be
pitched down another and a worse one, that
would bring the adventure to a tragical end.

Dorlon tried to raise the spirits of his com-
panion, but found the old man moody and in-
disposed to talk.

At last, after peering silently ahead into the
gloom for some time, he uttered a glad shout.

“See!” he exclaimed. ” There islight ahead!"

The old man also saw it, or fancied he saw
it, and paddled more vigorously. Soon the
light was visible enough, and after a while they
could plainly see the blue sky through a large
openin . .

“Send her in to the shore,” said Dorlon, as
they approached the valley, and this direction
was at once obeyed.

“ What is the matter?” asked Warren, as the
young man seized a rock, and brought the boat
to a stop. ‘

“I was afraid there might be a fall near
here. I am sure there is, as I can hear the noise
plainly.”

They drop d the boat gradually to the mouth
of the tunne , where they got out and Surveyed
the position.

The stream fell over the face of the rock in
a clear sheet to the valley below. It was not
a great fall, but sufficient to have demolished
their boat and put an end to their lives, if they
had taken the jump. Below them the stream
flowed smoothly through a beautiful plain, to
join a river that could be faintly seen in the
distance.

With no little labor they succeeded in' get-
ting tbe bull boat and its contents down into
the valley, where it was launched and loaded
again, and they continued their journey, re-
joicing in light and liberty.

 

caAr'raa V11.
A FEW YEARS AFTER.

QUITE a settlement had sprung up around
Death Gulch mine, with stamp mills, smelting
house, assay office, houses for miners and a
lail'ge allowance of stores, hotels, and liquor
sa oons.

The settlement was known as Death Gulch.
because that was the name of the mine. and
because it was. on the table-land adjoining
the great chasm of that name. But there was
already talk of selectin a less ominous title,
as the inhabitants firm y believed that their
town was bound to become one of the chief
cities of the lining ion.

Death Gu ch mine ad provedto be 9. won-
derfully profitable enterprise. It produced lai- e
quantities of ore that was exceedingly rich n
gold, and was supposed to have already yielded
immense fortunes to its two proprietors. Buch-
anan Farley—commonly known as Buck Farley
—and John Warns. T ey had never “stocked ”
their mine, and had admitted no rson into
partnersaip, but were its sole and euv ed owners.

John arne was an elderly man. who was
said to be fond of taking his ease. and the busi-
ness of the mine was usually managed by his
young and active partner. Buck Farley. ,,

The most substantial building in the town
was the oflce of the Death Gulch mine, which
was so solidly constructed of stone that it might
be made to serve as a fortress in case of need.
The proprietors must have been convinced of
the permanency of the vein they were working,
or they would not have erected such an enduring
structure. It was two stories in'hight, a. por-
tion of the lower story being used as the ofllce
of the mine, and the remainder of the building
was occupied by the owners, who kept a
bachelor establishment that was said to be
ricbl supplied with everything that money
coul procure.

At- a desk in the office of the mine was seated
the active partner, Buck Farley.

He was a “young and decidedly handsome
man. tall an firmly built, and with an ex-

ression of‘mingled authority and aminbility
in his bright blue eyes. His face was covered
with a heavy beard and mustache of chestnut
hue, his brown hair was cropped close, and he
was dressed well, but without any special
assumption of “ style.” '

0n the doorstep stood a man who was nomi-
nally a messenger and doorkeeper, but in reality
a guard, as he was heavilya mod
the possibility of some dar' g attempt to rob

, in view of.

 

the ( flice. Inside there was a rack of rifles, and
two clerks who were writing at their desks
were armed with revolvers. -

A young man presented himself at the door,
and asked if Mr. arley was Within. ‘

He was a hunchback, he walked slowly, sup-
porting himself with a cane, and his thin face
was pale. His clothes were of good quality, but
worn and travel-stained.

The sentry looked at him closely, then opened
the door, and let him in.

The stranger approached the desk at which
Buck Farley was writing, and that gentleman
looked up, with a slight start. The hunchback
also seemed to be surprised and startled, and
did not attempt to conceal his emotion.

“What can I do for you?” asked the pro~
prietor, laying down his n.’

“ I want to speak to r. Farley,” replied the
hunchback.

“ I am Mr. Farley.”

“There is something familiar in your face;
but I do not suppose I have ever seen you.
before.”

The mine owner smiled.

“Sit down,” he said, “and tell me what I
can do for you.”

“I am looking for work, sir, and have called
to see if I can find anything to do here.”

“ Possibly you can. What can you do? Of
course you are not strong enough for work in a
mine.”

“That is true, Mr. Farley, and I have never
been trained to do anything in particular. But
I am a good writer, and can keep accounts.” .

“ What is your name?”

“ Bonito Rosalba.”

“Spanish?”

“Of Spanish descent, but born on the soil of
the United States.”

“ Your age?" asked Mr. Farley, who was
noting these points on a slip of paper. ‘

“ Seventeen, and soon to be ei hteen. I may
as Well tell you, sir, that I am t e son of Pedro
Rosalba, who owns a large cattle farm not far
from here.” '

“ I have heard of him,” said the mine owner.
“Have you left home? You must excuse me
for questionin you so closely; but I do not
know you, an you bring me no recommenda—
tions, and I am icular about the people I
take into my em p oyment.”

“You have a right to be, and I am quite
willing to tell you all my story, which is a short
and simple one. I left my home because it was
no longer a home for me. I had a sister—a step-
sister, rather, a few years older than I am, of
whom I was very fond.” ’

Is she dead?” asked Mr. Farley, with more
feeling than the case seemed to ca 1 for. ,

“Qh, no. At least I hope she is not dead.
My Sister Rose loved a young American, who
came out here from one of the Eastern States,
and my parents were opposed to his attentions,

because they wanted to marry her to my cousin, ‘

Manuel Vincente. Some five
young American disa red.”
“ Did he desert her asked Farley. _ ,

“ No, sir. At least, she was sure that he
would never have left her of his own free will.
He—in fact, it was supposed that something
hap ned to him—that he died." '

“ ossibly he may I: ve fallen into .Death
Gulch,” suggested the In no owner.

The hunchback shuddered, and a look of in-
tense horror, came into his e face. He cov-
ered his eyes with his hands, as if to shut out a.
frightful vision.

‘ What a terrible fate that would be!” he
exclaimed. . t
“ Terrible, indeed- but it is on! a possibility
and my guess need not distur ‘you. What;

happened then. my young friend!"
‘ After the American was out of the way, my

years ago the

father and mother tried to persuade Rose to '

marry Manuel- but she refused. They let her
alone for awhile, hoping that time would lessen.
her grief for the loss 0 her lover; but she still
mourned for him, and disliked my cousin more
and more ever day. Then they began to per—
Secute her, an vowed that they would compel
her to marry Manuel; but they could. rot move
her. I could do nothing for her and they
treated me harshly because I took her part.

.At last their persecutions became so severe, and

she was so afraid that they would force her into
a marriage, that she could no longer endure her
life at the ranch, and she ran aw

a .”
“ How long ago was this!” asked Mr. FarleyL

“Three years."

“ What became of her!”

“ I do not know. She disappeared, and since
then I have never seen her or card of her."

“ Are you sure that something did not happen
to her also—that she did not die?" '

“ I have no fear of that, sir. I believe that
she left the house of her own accord, as she

took with her a bundle of elothin and her
'jewels. M father and Manuel, as n as she
was mi , mounted their horses and sent men

out, and searched for herin all directions; but
they found no trace of her. I am sure that she
would have sent word to me long ago, if she had
not been afraid that the message would fall into
their hands and “tell them where to look for her."

‘ “That is a sad story,” said the mine owner;

. _... an M' an- _4...._.... . . A .

“ma—n-» ~§~wf~ WW— w

a. c ,__._._.
. my

\..

V

 

 

‘ __~_fl_ .

e

u... ,

 

 

I.

 

 

Bucky Farley, the Bonanza Prince.

 

 

“but I do not yet see what it has to do with
your leaving your home. "

“Senor Rosalba and my mother were very
bitter against me, after Rose’s disappearance,
because they accused me of having aided her
flight, and I often told them that I wished I had
been able to do so. My life at the ranch was
nothing but pain to me after Rose left, and in
the course of time I followed her example, and
ran away.”

“How long ago was that t"

“ A little'more than a year.”

“ Did they search for you?”

“I doubt if they considered me of enough
consequence to search for me, though I was
their only son. Both of them always thought
for more of my cousin, Manuel Vincente, than
of me. Since I left them I have scrambled for
myself as well as I could, and have picked up a
living in one place and another—not a ver
good one as you may judge—and just now
must confess that I am about at my row’s end.”

“ It may be the best end,” said the mine
owner. “ You shall not suffer if you stay with
me. I am interested in you and in the story

‘ you have told me, and am willing to help you.
If I can find a place for you here, may not your
father come and claim you i”

If he should, I

“ I do not believe he will, sir.
You need not go with him

need not go with him.”
“That is true. ‘
while you are in my care. I will make room

' for you, my young friend, and will give you a

fair trial. If on make good the judgmentI
have formed 0 you, you will be very useful to
me. I will find a room for you here, until you
can look about. Do you need any money i”

Benito did not need any money, and he
thanked his new employer heartin for his kind-
ness and liberality.

“ it is strange,” he said, “that there is some—
thing so familiar to me in your face. It seems
as if I must have known you before.”

“Perhaps you have,” replied Mr. Farley—-
“in one of the worlds before this. Some men
claim that we have passed through many such
worlds, and that now and then somethin
happens to recall one of them to us. But th s
is the cal world we have to do with at
present, an new we will attend to business.”

Benito was given a desk, and was shown the
room that he was to occupy in the upper s cry
of the stone building, and he began to he love
that he had at last happened upon a clover

patch. , -

The active partner in the Death Gulch mine
discovered, or fancied that he discovered, un-
usual business ualities in the oung hunch-
back. Aftu a ew weeks’ trial enito was ad-
vanced in the office, and was requested to retain
his room upstairs, which was a handsome one,
and finely furnished.

One evening he was invited by Mr. Farley
into that entleman’s sittin -room, where ' he
found a ta 1 and well-dresse man, with white
hair and board, and with a benevolent cast of
countenance.

“This is Mr Warns, my partner,” said Far-
ley. “He has latel returned from the East,
Benito, and I have con telling him the story
which you related to me when you come here
looking for employment.”

f‘ I have been deeply interested in that story,”

. said the old gentlemana looking closely at Beni-
to, “ and would be gla to get some further par-
ticulars. Do you know what course your sister
tool: when she left home?"

“ I know nothing about her but what I have
told Mr. Farley," replied Benito.

“But you have traveled considerably since
fillet; I suppose you have made inquiries about

or

“It is little traveling that I have been able to
do, sir, and my inquiries have amounted to
' nothing. It takes a great deal of money to em-
ploy detcctives and cop up such a search as I
would have to make.” ‘

" Well, oung man, I wish to say to ybu, with
the appro tion of mprartner—we are both in-
terested in your story—that if on want to
Search for your sister we are w lling to help
you. You can have leave of absence for that
purpose as soon as “you wantit, and We will
suppl you with all 9 money you need.”

'f on are too kind and too generous!” ex-
claimed Benito, bursting into tears. “I do not
grow ”how to thank you. Money can do any-

in . .

“ oney can do much,” remarked Farley;
“ but it cannot do everything,”

 

CHAPTER VIII.
roams. ‘

IN the second story front room of a res t-
able house in San Francisco—not in the foe ion-
able quarter, but near the business portion of
the city—an elderly woman was seated.

The room was a large one, handsomely and
substantially furnished. In an alcove, shut off
from the main room by heavy curtains, was a
bed. On one side of the room‘ was a large
desk, similar to those that are used in business
offices, covered with a miscellaneous litter of

pamphlets and maps. In a corner was

inane
a marll steel safe, of fine workmanship.

 

Then appliances gave the apartment a busi-
ness aspect, which was hardlyasneutralized by
the many articles of feminine to and use that
were scattered about.

The elderly lady might better be termed
middle-aged, judging her by her fresh and un-
wrinkled face, and her erect and alert attitude,
though the many white threads in her brown
hair told of advancing years. She was tall,
somewhat angular, habited in a neat morning
wrapper, and of a decidedly pleasing expression
of countenance.

As she sat near a window busied with a bit
of fanciful embroidery, she glanced, every now
and then, at a fine clock on the mantle, and a
little frown came on her brow whenever she
noted the progress of the hands.

At last a joyful light came into her eyes, as
the door below opened and shut, and then there
were footfalls on the stairs—very light footfalls,
but which easily reached her attentive ears.

Directly the door of the apartment opened,
and a woman stepped in briskly.

This woman was a little under the average
stature of women, but graceful in form and
action. She wore a rich and fashionably-made
street dress, and. although her face was covered
with a thick vail, it was easy to decide that she
was young.

“ My dear Rose!” exclaimed the elderly lady.
“ Have you come home at last? You said that
you meant to hurry back, and now it is nearly
three o‘clock. ” -

“ There was more business waiting my atten-
tion than I had expected to find,” said the
other; “but I got through with it as soon as I
possibly could.”

“ You must be very tired, or child. Do
sit down and rest, and tell me a l the news.”

The Woman who was addressed as Rose drop—
ped into an oasyvohair, and drew aside her Vail,
disclosing a brunette face, youthful and of
great beauty, with large, dark eyes, and a. re—
markably expressive countenance

“ Nevada Silver has reached 88,” she said.

“ Did you sell?”

“No. I am expecting it to reach 95.”

“ You are very daring, my dear, not to say
risky. I would have guniped at the chance,
and would have real‘ze at once.”

“We must risk. my dear Mrs. Outram, in
orderto have. I am not abit afraid of that
stock. I have the most reliable points from
Hornby—good accounts from the lawer levels-—
and am sure it will go up. We ought to touch
the top of the market if we can.”

“Yes, but you keep me on thorns, and I am
getting terribly nervous. When a stock drops,
it goes down with such a rush.”

“I had to deposit more margin on the Two
Brothers investment,” said Rose.

“ My ! that was a'pull.”

“And that is not all. I have bought a big
block of New Ophir.”

“ Mercy on us!” exclaimed the old lady, drop—
Bigg her embroidery. “ Are you crazy, Rose?

you mean to into every new 1'. , and
pick up ever wi dcat stock that is floors 1”

“ New Op iris a new stock Mrs. Outram'
but you have no right to call it a wildcat. I
am assured on the best nuthori that it has
an excellent basis, and that Buc Farley is
hackin it. Those who can st in first on a
good is in naturally have the tof it.” .

“If Far ey is back ng it, it ought to be a solid
stOck. But you must have paid out a. great deal
of money to-dgy, Rose. How does your bank
account stand .

“ ueezed dry. In tact, I overdrew it. to-
day: at I spoke to the teller, and be certified
my check just the same.” .

‘But how, in the name of wonder, do you
expect to carry all your stocks, when you have
no more money i” -

“ I am going to borrow, I am expecting
Hornb every minute, and it is for that reason
that I “9‘ not taken ofl my hat and vail.”

It may be explained here, while she is wait-
ing for Mr. Hornby, that the young woman
whom Mrs. Outram addressed as Rose and who
was known to the speculative world of San
Francisco as Rosina, was seldom seen without
her viii], and never by the masculine ’ rtion of
the community, though_many of t cm were
ardently desirous of getting a peep at the face
it concealed. It was not supposed that any

rson’nl disfigurement ea or to hide that
ace, as those who had seen it reported her as
being young and beautiful. The pro riotor of
the house in which the two ladies had or a. lon
time occupied rooms had once you to as
Mrs. Outram what Miss Rosina’s “ other name 3’

was. . ,
“Why. Outrem, of course.” replied the old
lady. ‘ Is she not my niece?"
et she was known to the world in general,
and to the business world in particular. merely
as “ Rosina;” her bank account was in the name
of “ Rosina,” and all her checks were signed
“Rosina.” She was considered an eccentric
young lady who had chosen to enter into ac-
ulation, and. as she had provedherself a or-
ing andlsuccessful operator, her eccentricity

. The doorbellrun , and aservantcame upto
announce ,Mr. Horn y. . ‘ '

 

gl‘lSend him up,” said Rose, as she dropped her
v .

The man who entered the room was short and
fat. but with a bustling, breez way, and a
round, oily intelligent, and go -huniored face.
When his hat was off, he was seen to be bald
on the top of his head.

“This is Mr. Hornby, Mrs. Outram,” said
Rose, as she offered him a chair. “ Each of
you has often heard me e ieak of the other.”

“ I am glad to see rs. Outram,” he said,

-_L..-....----. .- .-,... 

“ and I wish, Miss Rosina,‘that I could see yod. »

Do you always wear that Vail?”

“Sometimes I wear another,” she replied,
with a little laugh.

“ I wish I could induce you to renounce it.
But we must take things as they are, and be
satisfied with the blessings that are sent us.’ i

“As you are, Mr. Hornbyi" ' ‘

“Yes, when I can’t help myself. This looks
like business,”he continued, as he glanced at
ever thing visible in the room. “ It also looks
like ionic, and the two extremes seem to meet
very well. But I must say that I am surprised
to see such a litter on the desk of a business
woman.”

“Iain half crazy to put it to rights,” said
Mrs. Outram; “ but she will never allow me to
touch it.”

“Don’t I clear it off every now and then,
when I hap n to have time?” asked Rose.

“There is one necessit of every business
office which you ought to- ave,” remarked Mr.
Horn y, “and that is awaste-basket. But ‘I
am here for a business pur ose, and not to
criticise your arrangements. ow much money
do you want, and for what time?” ‘ .

“ Fifty thousand dollars, for ninety days”.

“ You have raised the figure,” remarked

Homby, while,Mrs. Outram opened her eyes -

wide. .

“ Yes' I wanted to be sure of having enough,"
re lied o.

‘It is a large sum. What securityrcan you
give moi” r J

“ My note.” ' '

“ Have you no stocks or bonds that you can,
turn over to me?" .

“ Nothing that I can get hold of now. I
want the money, as I told you, to carry my
contracts and hold my stock.

“ Very well. Suppose ou sit down and
write the note, and then I Will write the check.”

Rosa seated herself at the desk without lifting.
her veil, and wrote, after the date, these lines
in a firm running hand: ' '

“ Ninety days after date I promise to pay to Jacob
Hornby or order, Fifty thousand Dollars for value
received. Rosnufl

“Would it not be better to sign your full
name?” he asked, as he glanced at the note.

“ Why should Ii” she replied. “ All in busi-

I

ness is transacted in that name, and it is nown ,

at the banks. Besides, Mr. Hornby,
that I borrow this money‘on my cr
honor—”
“ Both of which stand high,” he remarked.
“And if I should not pay on under one
nailing"): would. not be likely to 0 so under an-
ot er. , »

ou know
ti 9" my

“Quite true.” he replied, and he wrote a ,

check for $47 000, which he handed to her. .

“I have eductod the interest,” he said-
“two per cent. a month. Business is business,
and must be attended to as such.”

“That is ri ht, sir.” , '

“ The chec is dated tomorrow, when you
can have it certified if you wish. And now
in dear younglady, I must say to youthat
this has heavier sum ban I could afford to lose at
this time. If you should fail to y our note
when it is due, I would be ser ous y embar~
rassed.”

“I am thankful to you, Mr. Hornby, and I
shall not fail
her hand, and e left the room.

 

CHAPTER IX.
- A worm AT m noon.

Ros: put her check in the safe, laid aside her
tint and veil, and seated herself near Mn. Ou-
ram. ' v
“That is a big

said the old lady.
“ And a steep rate of interest,” re lied Rose.

sum to borrow, my 6.3”,”

on,” said Rose, as she gave him»

“But we are all right now for n nety days, ,

Hornby is a friend in need.”

anyhow. .
' e that he would be 'glad to form a

Iju

.partnersh p with you in another sort, of busi«

ness.”

“That of matrimony? ‘Perhaps he would. .

But I want no other partner than you, my dear
auntie, and I am sure that {on have always
brought me good luck, and t at .we have done
splendidly together.”

“But I do 'not real] like the business, Rose

though it is very excit ng.‘ Do on ever reflect ’

upon the fact'that we are gamb cm?”

“I su We are, in a-sense. So are all
those w 0 buy and sell stocks, and those who
speculate in grain and so many other articles.
If we are gamblerawe are in agoodly com-
pany, and with us are, many of those who are
respected and honored, because they are rich.
After all, Mrs. Outi-am, it is the winning that

 

 

  

8

* Buck Farley, the Bonanzangli-ince.‘

 

counts, and we are getting rich. Even if I
should realize on my contracts now, lumping
r the good and had together, we would have
quite a fortune.”

" Isupposc we would, if there should not come
a crash, or a crisis, or something of that sort.
But we must; not borrow trouble for the future,
as long as we can borrow money for the pres-
ent. When Ilsee you now, dour Rose, so bright
and serve and buoy ant, my thoughts go back
to the day, three years ago, when I found you
lying on the alkali plain, by the side of the
stage route.”

“ Yes, auntie, and you saved my life. I was
worn out, exhausted, famishcd, and had lain
down there to die, wishing for nothing but a
speedy death. You made them lit't me into tho
stage, and you fed me, nursed me, and brought
me here, and ever since then you have taken
care of me, and I owe you everything.”

“Your presence and your love have more
than paid me for that, door child. You have
been all the world to a lonely woman. Besidcs,
it is you who have made our fortune, if it is a
fortune.”

“ Did not you furnish the capital, auntie?”

“That is a small matter. You have fur-
nished the brains and tho enterprise and the
energy. The ambition to get rich, Rose, is
better than no a" bition, and it has given you
life and strength. But when you are really

 

l

“I saw his face and recognized him at once.
Hark! there he isl”

The door bell rung below, and directly a
man’s voice was heard, inquiring for “Miss
Rosina.”

“Run into the alcove, R050,” said Mrs. Ou-
tram, “ and I will give orders that he shall not
be admitted.”

The girl hastened to conceal herself; but Mrs.
Outraiu was not quick enough in giving her
orders, as the unwelcome visitor followed the
housemaid upstairs, and presented himself to
her before she could close the door.

He was a tall and well—dressed young man;
but his dark complexion, low brows, and coarse
features, iiispii'i-d her with a feeling of repul-
Sion.

“I wish to sch the lady whose name is
Rosina,” 1:0 said.

“There is no such person here,” gruilly re-
plierll Mrs. Outrani, with a reckless disregard of
trut i.

“Isaw her enter this house, and I am sure
that this is her rooin, and I wish to see her.”

“There is no person here who wishes to see
you,” sai 1 Mrs. Outram.

“ That 's not to the point," he rcplied, with a
sneer. “I believe that HECI‘O is a yersmi here
whom I wish to see, and I-proposo to walk in
and look for her.”

He stepped forward as he spoke; lut Mrs.

rich, what do you expect to do wish your , Onti‘am suddenly snatched a loaded revolver

money?"
“ Do with it? Do you not know what I want,
whatl mean to do with it? Money is power.

l
i

from a table near the door, cocked it, and pre-
sented it at him.
“ i f you take another step toward this room,”

\Vhen l have enough of that power—as much i she said, “I will shoot you down 1”

as l b-xlieve will suffice for the purposc—l mean
to use it to crush Pedro Rosnlbn.”

“ To crush him!” (xi laimed Mrs. Outram.

“Yes, to crush him, to destroy him. I do
not yet know whatit is that I shall do; but I
mean to ruin him, to crush him as a man would
‘ crush a poisonous snake!” .

Rose had risen to her feet in her excitement,
and her face was flushed, filled with the bitter
sorrow of the past and the fierce intent of the
future.

“ My poor child 1” muttered the old lady.
“ She has not forgotten hcr sorrow, and a new
paSsion has seized her. Do you mean what you
say, Rose?”

“ I do, most solemnly.”

“But Pedro Rosalba. is your mother's hus-
band.” ,

“He murdered my lover, and I have good
cause to suspect him of having murdered my
fatherl” _ ,

Mrs. Outram bent over her embroidery, and
' Rose. sinking intoachair, covered her face with

her hands, and for a few moments neither of

them spoke. '
“ What we have just been speaking of,” said

Ros i. raising her head, “ reminds me of a fright

that I had this morning.”

“A fright, my dear?’ _

“‘YeS—fl. terrible fright. I thought that I

saw my cousin, Manuel Vincents, on the street

near the Mining Exchange.”
“ Mercy on us!”
“I am not sure that it was be; but the thought
ave‘ me such a fright that I trembled in every
imb, and was scarcely able to stand. I man-
aged toget into Hornby’s office. and there I
dropped into a chair. and looked over the tape
as it passed through the ticker, at the same
time keeping a sly watch at the window, to see
if he should pass. But I saw nothing more of
that man.”
. “Even if it was he. Rose, he cannot hav
reco nized you under that vail.” , ‘
“ do not know. Some people know a 'rl
' ’by her‘ form and movement. I have worn t at
vail so long, covering my face from all men, as
if I were a Turk, because of in fear of Pedro
Rosalba and his agents; but a ove all I have
(cared Manuel Vincents. If he should suspect.
that. would be enough for him, and he would
pursue me like a bloodhound." .

Mrs. Outrau soothed and cheered her young
, friend, telling her that she was a woman of
business, and of too strong and active a mind
to allow idle fears and mere imaginin . to take
possession of her and overcome her so control,
and Rose gradually shook of! the dread that
had seized er. - ,

“Now, my dear,” said the old lady. “ you
will do me a rent favor if you wil take this
bottle arena to the druggist’s, and have the
prescrlption duplicated. I believe it has done
me a great deal of good.” 5 ,

Rose donned her hat and vail, and went out
wizh the bottle, glad of a. chance to oblige her
good and loving friend.

Fifteen minutes had not elapsed, when she I

returned in a hurry, let herself into. the house
with her latch-kc , ranup-stairs. and re-entered
the 00m. breath ess and trembling.

' “ osel R0591 what is the matter?” asked
Mrs. Outram, Seeing how pale and startled she
was. .

“ It is he,” answered Rose. “ I saw him
again as [came out of the drug store, and again
1 was frightened. I walked rapidlv toward
home; and he followed me rapidlys Then I ran
to thi- house.” ’
, “Are you sure it was he, Rose!”

 

She was as pile as death, but her face was
full of deterininnt on. Ho might have seen
such a look in some wild animal which a bum
for had threatened to deprive of its cub. Ho
halted instantly. .

“My name is Manuel Vincente,” he said.
“I have reason to believe that/the lady who is
known as Rosina is my cousin, Rose Rosalba.
I have a right to see her.”

“ You have no right to see any person in this
room.” replied MI‘S. Outram. “ Go away from
this door, and leave this house immediately, or,
as surely as there is a. God who guards the in-
nocent, I will kill you where you stand!”

There could be no doubt that the woman
meant what she said. Manuel Vincents tried
to call up his accustomed sneer; but his face
spoke only of baffled malice.

“I cannot find it in my heart to refuse such a

polite request from a lady,” he said. “I will
go, as you insist upon it: but you may assure
in fair cousin that I will interview er else-

w ere.”

As he turned awa , Mrs. Outrau'i closed the
door, and locked an bolted it. Then she sunk
into a chair, trembling with excitement.

Rose came out from the alcove, listened at
the door as the intruder passed down stairs, and
watched him as he walked u the street.

“My poor auntie!” she so d. "‘ It is a shame
thafijou should have had such a task asthat.
I would have taken it on my own hands, if I
had known what was needed.” '

“ Never mind me, my dear. I feel better for
it, now that it isover—more like a woman—or
more like a. man. I would surely have shot
him, Rose, if bellied tried to enter this room.”

“ I believe you would, auntie. And now, my
dear, I must put you to another test of your
love. It is impossible for me to remain here in‘
hourly fear of that man. We must leave San
Francisco at once.” -

t g‘Very well, my child. Where shall we go
0 .

“ Far from here—to the other side of the
continent.” , '

“ Mercy on usl What a journey l"

“ But you will be delighted with New York,
auntie dear. It is so long since you have' been
at the East, and there is so muc to see there.
I am sure on will be delighted.”

“Will I I will'be delighted if you are safe
and contented.”

“Then we. shall pack up immediately. We
will take the flrs'; train in the morning. “’9
will go to a hotel to—night. I cannot remain in
this house a minute longer than is necessary.”

“ But your business, my child

“I can easily arrange that. I shall leave a

V note for Homby, and I can stop at Sacramento

and cash my check.”
“ Let us pack our trunks, Rose.”

CHAPTER X.
THE SMASH IN NEW 0mm.

Tm: hour that saw Rosina and Mrs. Outram
busily em loyed in preparing for their flight
from San rancisco, ound Buck Farley, many
miles to the northward ated in conversation
with his partner, John ame.

“Now, my friend and partner ” said he, “ the
timlegias come to close in.on yedro Rosalba’s
cas .~ ~

 

“Has be swallowed all he can hold?” asked

Mr. Warne.

“ He is in as deep as he can go. He has invested
in New Ophir all the money he could raise. He
now owns more than half of that precious
stuck, and boast: that he holds the controlling
interest. At the next election for directors be

 

 

..__.___. .__—_4

expects to put his own men in. Then he intends
to l‘rce-ze out the other stockholders in the usual
way, and to become the sole owner of the
1bigges’t bonanza that has yet been brought to
ighf.

“The uncertainty of mining speculations is
amazing,” remarked Mr. VVarnc.

“As Pcdro Rosalba will soon learn to his
sorrow. 1 shall start to the East in the morn
ing. You had better write to Brenhnm, in San
Francisco, telling him to be reuly to throw
on the market all the stock in his hands, as soon
as l notify him bv telegraph from New York.
I will flood the Eastern market at the same
time, and then there will be nothing left to do
but to erect a tombstone to the memory of New
Ophir.”

“ Its backbone will be broken effectually, no
doubt. How much will the operation cost us,
Farley?”

" Cost us? It “ ill in money in our pockets, to
say liOlliing of othcr considerations. We shall

cusily clear fifty thousand after paying all '

expenses.”

“ P901118 will talk about salted mines and
sharp practice."

“ Let them talk. Men who are worth millions
are new r touched by talk.”

John Warns rcsted his head on his hand,
absorlwd in Ft flLL‘liOY‘l.

“ What are you' thinking of!” asked his
partner. * -

“ Wait a moment, Farlcy. The innocent
ought not to ex fl’cr with tho guilt-y.”

“The innocent? Who are the innocent?” _

“Bieulinin tells'mc there is a pretty large
block of New Ophir which he has not been able
to get hold of. He does not know who holds it
at iresent, but is sure that it is not in the hands
of osalba."

“ Tell him to find out who holds it, and tele-
graph me at New York. We will see that the
owner or owners, if the are really not con-
nected with Rosalba, shal not suffer.”

“That will make ever-thing clear, my boy,
and you may sit down on New Ophir as soon as
you please."

 

Buck Farley was delayed in his journey to

ew York. ‘

On the morning of his arrival the receiving
teller of the Exchange National Bank in that
c.'ty was confronted by a new customer.

This customer was a lady, graceful in form,
and elegantly dressed, whose face was con-
cealed by a heavy black vail. i

“ I wish to open an account,” she said, as she
laid down a slip of paper and a roll of bills.

“ u what name?” asked the teller.

“ nsinn.”

“Rosina who?”

“ Siinpl Rosina.”

The 'tel er stared at her almost impolitely.
Her thick veil and the singularity of t e name
she gave made him wonder whether she might
not he a swindler or an insane person. _

"We have never opened an account in that
style," he said. “ I do not think it can be
allowcd; You must'give your full name.”

“That is my business name and style,” she
re lied. “ I have no other.”

be taller requested her to step in and speak
to the cashier, to whom she carried her slip and
her roll of bills, maki'n the same proposition
she had made to the to ler and receiving sub-
stantially the same reply.

hl have been transactin business in San
Francisco foralong time,"s a said, “specula-
ting in mining shares, and quite successfully. I
have transferred my business to ’New York,
and the‘accuunt I propose to open with you is
not a very small one.’

The cashier looked at the slip and the roll of
hills, and was visibly impressed by the inspec-
tion. - ~

, “ I have done business in‘Ban Francisco,” she
continued “ for reasons of my own, under the
name of Itosina, ‘and no objection has been
made to it. In fact, I would not be recognized
under any other name. If on will telegraph
there, to the bank in which keptm account,
you will learn that I am a rehabe business
woman." I ,

“ I will do so at once," said the cashier. “ In
the mean time you may make a cial deposit,
if you choose todo so. Call here t is afternoon,
before the bank closes, and I hope that every-
thing will prove satisfactory.”

At the appointed hour Rosina called at the
bank, accepted the apolo 'es of the cashier, re-

ceived her bank book, an hastened up town to,

the hotel at which she and Mrs. Outram were
stop ing. v

“ have opened an account at last. auntie,”
she said, as she entered the room where the old
lady’was occupied with her everlasting em:
hroidery. “These New York people seem to
be terribly fussy and particular. I could hard-
ly have had more trouble ifI had wanted to
borrow is much money as I deposited.”

“Well, my dear child, -lt seems that all busi-
ness is bother, and you must expect to have
plenty of worry. Here is a telegram for you
that has just been brought in .”

Rosina raised her vail, an tore open the en-l
velope. ,

 

Buck Farley, the BvonanzaaFrince.

 

The dispatch was very brief, but there was
enough in it to make her open her eyes and turn

e.

“Mch on us!" she exclaimed, “This isa
blow. I there was any stock that I believed to
besure to rise, it was New Ophir; but here I
am called upon for twenty per cont. more mar-
gin. Think of itl Twenty per cent!"

“ That means a heavy full, I suppose.”

“ A terrible tumble. What a gap it will tear
in my new bank account 1”

“ Ah, my dear, this is a risky business that
you are engaged in.”

“ It is always risky, auntie, when the little
fish swim where the big fish can swallow them.
But what can be the meaning of this? Buck
Farle was backing New Ophir, and he is a man
of m‘ lions. Hand me the evening paper, please.”

She glanced hurriedly at the commercial
column, and luid down the paper with a sigh.

“ Itis even so.” she B'lid. “ New Ophir has
tumbled to 85. This looks like u huh. I must
go out at once. auntie dear, an try to learn
what is the matter."

She hastened to a mining stock broker of her
acquaintance, and the news she gathered deep-
ened the gloom that had begun to settle about

her.
A rgmrt had been spread in San Francisco to

the e act that the New Ophir mine was a.
proved failure; that the lead which had been
supposed to be a “ fissure vein ” had turned out
to be meron a. “ ket;” and that the pay ore
was already qmte exhausted. Owing to this
report, and to the sale of large blocks of shares
in the San Francisco market, the stock had
“taken a tumble," and there was no telling how
low it would drop.

When Rosina came down town the next
morning, she soon learned that a panic had
struck her favorite stock and shattered it.

The damagin report from San Francisco had
not been oflici ly denied, and its truth could
no longer be doubted. The stock opened at 50,
and large amounts were thrown at once on the
market, forciu it down to 30. It was stated
and generally lieved that Buck Farlo was a
large seller. New Ophir fell to 20, an then to
15, at which figure it closed, and was shaky at
that.

Rosina carried a woeful countenance home,
and burst into tears as soon as she entered her
room. It seemed to her that her career asa
business woman had ended in the most utter
failure, and the crash was so sudden that it
came near breaking her heart. Mrs, Outram
in vain endeavored to cheer her.

“ It is all over, auntie,” she said. “ I am
mined, you are ruined, we are ruined. We
shall bo forced to conjugate the verb to ruin in
all its moods and tenses."

“ Iii it really so bad as that. my dear?"

. “I do not see how it could be worse. New
Ophir isdown to fifteen, without the slightest
rospizit of improvnmont, and I am pledged to
uy aps of it at 115, a clear loss of a dollar
on every dollar of stock, as far as heard from.
My contract matures in a. few days, and it will
cost me all my cash to settle.”

“ But you have other property Rose."

“More stock, which may go t 9' same way.
If I should be forced to realise, I could not goo
sibly secure enough to pay what I borrowe of
Hornby, that good, kind man."

“You might fail. Rose," a tad Mrs. Ou-
tr‘am,wlth the air of a woman 0 wisdom. " Men
are all the time doin that sort of thing, and
they seem to be none t a worse for it.”

“ If I should fail to meet my contract, auntie,
that would he rain for me, whatever it might
be for a man. It is ruin in any event, in what-
ever light we look at it—nothing but ruin. Oh.
what scouudrels men ml I ma_ ho a fool, but
I am not blind. I can see clear y throu h the
game. It has been nothing but a. a antic
swindliugr operation on the part of Buck arley,
the Bonanza Prince, as the call him. There is
nothing princely in such so emes, but the mag-
nitude of their meanness. Ho has engineered
New Ophir up, and has engineered it down, and
1 will guarantee that ho has come out of the
collapse with full pockets. Nothin will be said
of him, because ho is a rich man; i) I wish I

'had the rewarding of him!"

“ You are excited, Rose, and perhaps you
may be no ust to a man of whose acts and mo-
tivas you now so Iiltio. Int me make you a
nice warm possot. and than we will sit down
and try to talk of this matter calmly."

When Rosina visited her broker’s omen the
next morning, she took her seat at the “ ticker”
and ran over the tape, but saw no record of
New Ophir.

“It is no use, Miss Rosina.” said Mr. Hoxie.
“I sup so you are watching the New Ophir
flurry; ut it is at an and now. That stock is
not worth a cont in the market, and I doubt if
you will ever see it noted again. It is flatter
than any flounder. he bottom has fallen out
of it Completely."

“ And it has carried mo down into the
depths,” she sadly replied.

“ I never knew of a worse smash. But we are
all liable to such calamities. Hora in- letter
for you Miss Retina, that a messenger loft here
this morning.”

 

Rosina opened the letter. As she read it, her
face under her vail assumed expressions of sur-
price and bewilderment, and then of sudden

o

y.

After some further conversation with the
broker, she rose to take her leave.

“ I thank you for this letter, Mr. Hoxie,” she
said. “It has iven men leasant sur rise. I
was going to as you to sol some Nova 8. Silver
stock for me, but believe _I will defer it.”

“ You had better hold on to that stock, young
lady. Everything is in its favor just now."

hen Rosina entered her room at the hotel
that afternoon, and laid aside hvr hat and vail,
there was such a serene joy in her countenance
as made Mrs. Outram stare.

“ What has happened now Rose?” asked the
old lady. “ You look as if you might have
found a gold mine, or somethin better.”

“This is a world of change, our auntie, and
it is sometimes hard to decxdc whether our
blessings are not calamities, and our calamities
blessings. I have brought you the biggest kind
of news.”

“ How big, my love?"

“ Bi ger than the new gist-office here, bigger
than tewart’s store—as ig as Mount Shasta.
I have found out something more about the
New Ophir failure—for it 1* a dead failure,
auntie, flat and complete. The blow has not
struck down many people, as the stock was in a
few hands. Besides in self and Buck Farley
and the San Francisco olks, whoever they are
there was but one heavy holder, and he own
more than half the stock. Now, who do you
su ose that man is?"

‘ ow can I uess, my dear?"

“ It is Pedro osalbal”

“ Pedro Rosalbai"

“ The very same. and the smash has flattened
him completely. Just think of itl The owner
of more than half the stock of New Ophir, and
everg dollar of it a dead loss to him! I wish I
coul see him and congratulate him.”

“Is your joy over the calamity of another
so great that you can forget your own misfor-
tune?”

“ I can rejoice at his calamity with my whole
heart. It is a jud ment, auntie, and we may
give thanks for ju merits. And I am not so
unfortunate, after al . Read this letter, which
I got at Mr. Hoxie’s oflice lac-day.”

“ Please read it to me, Rose."

“ It is from Buck Farley, the Bonanza Prince.”

“The man you were abusing so terribly last
evening?"

“ Yes, auntie: but I am not abusing him now.
Listen to what he says:

“ ' Mr nus. Miss Rosan—

“ ‘ I must throw myself u a your mercy, and at

the some time give on a ttie of my confidence,
trusting that on wi treat this communication an
entire] confl ends-l.

“ ‘I earn that you have beon badly bit in the New
Ophir disaster, and possibly you may blame mo for

your losses.

“ ‘ The failure of the New 0 r mine is total, and
the loss nooessaril falls on t e stockholders. Cir-
cumstances compo ed me to unload, and thus help

to break the market; but I do not consider myself a

loner.

“ ‘I inclooe my check to your order for 850.000.
which, I believe, will cover your unfortunate in-
vestment. You must accept it, as I assure you that
it is justly your dug, m

“-‘ ours vo .
W res393:3ucn’ll‘uuxr.‘

“And hare is the chookl” exclaimed Rosina,
flourishing that valuable bit of paper boforo the
face of her friend.

“ Mercy on us! Are you sure it is real! Will
you accept it, Rose!”

“Of course I will. I do not understand all
that he says; but I am convinced that he has
been playing a game, and that I was not tho
one he wanted to boat. When he tells mo that
ltints sum is justly my duo, I am bound to believe

im.

 

CHAPTER XI.
“wu. 1-0 m nrml”
Tana! was high rovelry at the Boo ilba ranch.
Pedro Rosalba, tho manager, if not the owner
of that extensive estate, had given a grand on.
tortainmont in honor of the great ovontpf his
life—his acquisition of a controlling interest in

the Now Ophir mine.
This had boon tho mo object of his ambi-
tion. To attain it, sides investing all his

available cash in the stock of the mine, he had
sold all the cattle on tho ranch except such as
were noede for brooding purposes, and had
borrowed mono at a. high rate of interest.
Indeed, he had ri pod himself of all his pose
sessions—or his fo‘a possessions—4n the way
of rsonal property.

is guests—ranchmon, cattle dealers minors,
and speculators—had eaten and drank of his
good cheer, had congratulated him on his good
management and cod fortune, and had gone
away wondering if it was possible that the
Mexican had made a fool of himself.

Some of them were privaton of the opinion
that if the mine was so var valuable aPi°°°
of property as ho believed it {0 ho, the Bonanza
Prince and his wary old partner would not
2813 allowed tho control of it toslip out of their

an ii.

9

No doubts or mi ivings troubled Pedro Ro-
salba as he sat with is wife among the ruins of
the feast. '

They were both a little mellow with wine, in
high good humor with themselves, and extrava—
gantly pleased with their position and prospects.

“ It is a great thing, ’ he said, not by any
means for the first time. “It is actually ini-
mense. I have wrnsted thecontrol of that mine
from those sharp Yankees, and it was as grand
a stroke of busmess as has been done in these
parts for 3 Ion time.”

 

“But ou onot own the entire property,”
sugii Senora Rosa. lbs.
‘ own the controlling interest, and the man

who has that in these stock companies has
everything. The minority has no rights, and
it will not be long before I eucber the other
suckers out of their shares. I was ilt'l‘u before
this mining business began, and I have kept my
eyes open while it was growing up. "

“ It has cost us a vast amount of money.”

“ Yes, it has been a squeeze, but I have pulled
through. That last block of stock i bought at
high figures; but I was obliged to huva it, and
now I am asfood as pro rietor of the New
Ophir mine. shall work t for all it is worth,
Lucia, and we will soon see who is a bonanza
king.”

“ Are you sure it is so very valuable, Pedro?
Some mines turn out badly.”

“There is a mint of money in this one, cara
mi'a. Do you suppose that those men, Farle
and Warns, would have taken hold of it if t
had not been a bonanza? Everything they
touch turns to gold. The ore that has been
taken out already is immense:y rich, and the
vein has hardly' been opened.”

“ How dld t ey happen to let so much of the
stock get out of their hands?” asked Senora
Rosulba.

“ I was too sharp for them, my anetta.
The thought the could s eculate with the
stoc and still ho d it; but picked it up and
kept it. Our fortune is made, mi alma.”

‘ Then we can drop this lonesome ranch and
the nasty cattle. "

“ Yes, we can drop them all.”

“And Rose will be welcome to the land, if
she ever comes to claim it.”

“ l suppose so—if she ever comes back.”

Leon, who had grown to be a. youn man,
entered with n to ogram which a ri or had
brou ht from Death Gulch station.

“ ell him to wait,” said Rosalba, “ until I see
what is in it.” '

As he read the message his face turned pur-
ple, and then ashy pale. Drops of perspiration
stood on his brow, and his countenance express-
ed intense surprise and terror.

“ What is the matter. Prdroi” asked his af-
frighted wife. “ What is that message?"

“ It is from my brokerin San Francisco. He
tells me that there are bad rumors afloat about
New Ophir; that stock is bring sold at a low
figure, and that Farley is linivlldinfl. He asks
me if he shall sell. sell! 0f coune he should
not sell. The market is breaking, he says: but
I see through the game. It in Yankee trick, an
attempt ata sharp swindle. Farley and Warne
see that they have been outwitted, and want to
fit back their stock. They havs paid my broker

do this, hopiu to frighten me into selling.
But I have the o d Costilian blood in my veins,
and am not so easily scared. 1 will answer
this at once, and will order him not to sacrifice
my stock under an circumstances.”

Although Rosal spoke so confidently, and
sent 08 such a bold dispatch. he passed a sh; 9p-
less night. The barn possibility of such utter
ruin as the San Francisco telegram suggested
excited him almost beyond endurance.

In the morning he was astir at an early hour,
and rode to ‘Deoth Gulch, where he sent dis-
patches southward and eastward.

The answers which he received in the course
of the day told him that the case was far worse
than his wildest fears could have painted it.

There was no longer an market for the
shares of New Ophir, and t estock which he
had a hired at such a cost was as worthless as
so mnc waste per.

He was done and bewildered, He could not
believe the facts that stared him in the face. It

and utter ruin that had overtaken him. It
was like the stories of fairy gold. gathered at
night, which had turned to withered leaves
when tho morning come. His fortune had van-
ished and nothing was left him but a pile of
value ass lithographs.

Yesterday be had considered himself a bonanza
khan today he was a pauper.

e had never entered the omce of the Death
Gulch mine. As he was engaged in the task of
“bcotin ” Messrs. Farley and Warren, he had
rofraine from visiting them, lost their sharp
Yankee wits should up out his game.

Now he deter-min that he would call on
them and demand an explanation of the col-
in of Now Ophir, if there had really been a
co apoe. -
He was politel recrived at the stout stone
office, and was in ormed that both of the Eu: -
ners were absent. Mr. Farley was at the sat,
and it was not known when he would return.

 

was impossible for him to realise the sudden .

\

i

V

10

Mr. Warne was in San Francisco, but was
daily expectgi home. r

He rode back to the ranch like a man in a
dream. One thought only presented itself to
his mind clearly—how should he break the news
of the disaster to his cara Lueettaf ,

She read it in his face as soon as she saw him.
She led him into the house and )laceda chair.
for him, in which be seated himse f as if he was

 

“ stupefled.

“ Was it all true, then?” she asked.

“All, and more. The New Opnir mine is a
failure, the stock is worthless, and I um‘ruincd.”

She could not cheer him; but-she encouraged
him to tell her the whole story, and he told it,
not very clearly, but plainly enough for her to
comprehend it. .

“ Then you are not a bonanza king, and I am
not a queen,” said she. “The castle in the air
has tumbled down and nothing is left but a
hole in the ground.’ ‘ r _

“So it seems. It is hard t) realize, but it
must be so. The savings of years have been
pwepl’z’away, and we have now nothing but the

an . - . -

“ And that belongs to Rose Warren.”

“ Does it?” I .

“ Of course it does. You know that it is her
property, as her father left no will, and that she
can claim it under the law.” v r -

“ The law has not much to do with this stretch
of land,” remarked Rosalba. v

“ But it will have. The country is settling up
rapidly, and soon there will be plenty of courts
and judges. There is but one thing that can
save us now from being thrown out of every
thing in our old age. 'Manuel must find Rose
Warren and make her his wife.”.

“ He is looking for her.”

“But he is making no progress.
help him to find her.”

‘ I will, and when I lay in
shall not escape me again.
that. I mean to be raven ed upon the men
who have put me in this ole. I shall give
them such a dose as will sicken them. ”

“If you do not, you are no sort of a man.
But you had better be careful, Pedro, how
you measure your wits against those sharp

ankees.” '

“It will not be a contest of wits, my Lucia.
There are rougher, readier and surer means.
kn'ow plenty'of bravos who will follow where I
lead. I will strike those men in many ways,
and every blow shall count. It shall be war to
the knife!" , -

“Now you are talking like a man of sense
and nerve. ‘When you speak of the knife and
the pistol and the rifle, you speak of weapons
that you know how to use. , Use them, Pedro,
and while you'work your revenge, you may
get back at least a part of what you have lost.”

“I have sworn it, Lucia. lt shailbe war to
the knife!”

You must

hands on her she

 

CHAPTER XIIJ
THE GREEN Gum. , _ .

Tmnu,were but two passengers in theWarno
ton stage, and they were women. ' ’ 4 . -

There had been two or three male passengers,
but they had dropped out out the way, and, only
a: trio women were left to occupy the inside of

5 age. - '

This was apeculiar circumstance in itself, and
more peculiar from the fact that the route had
bccome adau us‘onsto travel. ., .  

The stage inc was (owned by Farley and.
Warne, who were in (in the newtowu of

Warneton, and had started the line for the up 

pose of building upitheir'pro ’rt there. ; e
ran one ress on the, routgberng responsith
for the w. nobles they ed, and sounva .
were of the opinion that the daringlband olvv
road-agents who had lately been ting,
against the stages must-have a 
against their owners. ' ' ‘ "
Already the sta had been‘stoppcd several
times, and twice express had beemrobbed,
entailing a heavy lom'upon the props-into”-
Of course the two lane wcmcn could nothavc
been aware of these facts, though- th‘ heard
, such hints ,as they came along in it well
¢ make them nervous: But they had 9 from
the for East, and nothing had bar-modal.th
fit, pm! they hoped to reach their jouracy’s and
an at . ‘ ' ' '

,,

Y ' . ‘
“Thisisatedioustrip,Rose,” nidtho elder.“ ' -

the two.

" Yes, auntie; but everything issoncw and
strange that it is almost dclig tful to 1:19.. 1
wish you had my oath and health, Do that you
could enjoy it as do.” ' '

“It is not only tedious, my dear, but danger:

ous.

“That is the cc of it. I dearlylovou taste
of danger. I s ould think that you, auntie,
who drove Manuel Vincento from your door at
the mnkslc of~a pistol, would be the last to speak
of danger.” .

“ Don’t laugh at me, Bose. You know that I
was nearly frightened out of my wits. But I
could fight even a wild beast that would try to
take me from you. I do hope that we will safely
reach Wamcton, if that is the name of the
place, and that we will find there something. flt

eat and a decent bed to sleep in.”

a i; gun-o a nice little town.

will do more than .

Buick, Farley, thedBronanlza Prince.

“No doubt of that, auntie. I am told that it
And our forluue is
there, y ou know. I am crazy to get my fingers
on the Little Ruby mine.”

“To think that you should actually be the
. owner of a mine! it seems so strange. '

“All .due to luck and Buck Farley, princi—
pally the latter. The Bonanza Prince must
have thought that he owed me something, as he
has done so much for me under tho rose since
that rough deal in New Ophir. After my splen-
did stroke in Nevada Sirver, for which I con-
sider myself indebted to him, he let me into the
Little Ruby, sending me a note to tell me that
it was a valuable property to be sold for a song.
I sung to the tune of twenty thousand dollars;
but that is nothing to what the value of the
mine must be." r

“ If it should prove to be all your fancy
paints it, my dear, still we are women, and we
can’t be bonanza kings."

“But we may be queens or omprasses,
auntie.” .

At the nearest station to VVarueton—the
nearest, though fifteen miles away—the. stage
made its last stop.

. . The, station was but a small house on the
plain; yet there were six passengers waiting for
the stage, and, to the surprise of Mrs. Outram
and Rosina, they were all womeul- , .

Six women! Six tall, awkward. “ gangling”
creatures; with such ugly and ill-fitting gowns,
such horrid coal-scuttle bonnets, and such thick
and citunsy Veils! V, ,

' ‘.‘.Can,,these horrid persons really be women,
auntie?” asked Rosina. ‘ '

“ Hush, my dear! .maybe they are Mermons.”

Five of these outlandish women crowded into
the interior of the stage, where they adjusted
themselves rather stakwm‘dly, and the sixth

- climbed up on the seat with the driver, and the
heavy vehicle lumbered away.

The new passengers kept their vails down;
but Rosina. could not complain of that, as hers
was drawn closely. They had‘notbing to say,
.thongh she tried to draw them mto a conversa-
tion b asking a few apestions, to which they
replie briefly and gru {is .

‘ What coarse voicest y have!” whispered
Rosina. “ Did you ever hear the like?" '

Mrs. Outram suggested that they might be
the wives of some mon older, who com-
pelled them to occlude themselves from “the
world’s people.” i ,

“'1 do believe they wear boots, auntie, and
they are more like men than women.”

d “Inam. sure that I wish they were men, my

ear. .

“ So do I. I confess that I am beginning to
feel shaky.” . . .

Rosina a shakinessv developed .into positive
nervousness as the sun was setting, and the
stage rolled down a hill into a heavy piece of
timber.

Suddenly there was a knock, or a kick, on
the frontrcf theyehiele, that attracted instant
attention. .  . . ,

. Mrs. Datum screamed, Rosinarshive and
the 'five other inside spans-gore eta-nigh ned
themselves u , and began to handle awkwardly
their outlan h gowns.

voice, in 0 car and commapdlnfi" .tones, clear!
heardby the poms-hand ‘ y
i ,< ‘

"‘ ' ownthatoxpress boxk d be quick
aboutit lemmas.” c migding voice.
iiiiar?‘ ~»....i“-“'i'°-'=~ .
_ e- . a 91: la ners, or.
a set of sneak! would!  m

_.‘ t estagec‘ameto

senfizfiheml’ i  a a  A w 
pa - 1- was» nothin’ but Womenl? milks

m. »  l '3 -.’i.';',‘ {n '

‘Wrznn’ tannins! Trot than: gut, boys,
hand so hthmoull they’re Worth. Come,
down from t a box, you two, 11nd step lively.
We’ve no time fofloolin’.” -.

A hun'icd;glamo'  Rosina a number of
rough- doliwb I “on; the stage, masked
Murmur! ' and revolvers. -

liliest doornuwercfin open. And the:
 “r 1.3,...  v...-
" r‘ 0.11 womenlza . .,r 91.“
this  and dumb] of the
vehicfé, and the robbers hardly seemed to know
sch-thumbs mostan (is-dismayed.
‘g’llhtbocts moi” exclaimed the leader. .1“ It’s
rch above any tea party I ever struck. It’s
noun, boys..loi tall these critters to hold up
thar hands, and I reckon the wealththeykerr

no tellin’. Go th , in them, boycl’? '
_ Mrs. Onxtrnfuzhanrjdngosiogt had croufllhgedttliown
inacorne o estagcp because y o
to mp0 unobserved, blue became of an indium
that prompted them to hide. ,

‘f Come out 0’ that!” was orderedln a rough
w;§_flbbfirded brute looked in and saw

In. 7 . 

Suddenly they word startled by quick and
continuous discharges of ms without,
mindled with oaths, shouts and yells. ,

This sharp and rapid firing lasted not more
than three minutes, and then all was quiet. _

, . their gowns an
Then thlgre was aired withoutr—a' man’s.

would su’cely do to starts. bank‘on. But thar s. '

 

 

_ by an irresistible curiosity, Rosina
raised herself on the seat, and looked out.

 

The outlandish women had disappeared. In
their place were half-a-dozen men, all clothed
entirely in green, and wearing green masks.
Besides these men in green, and two bodies
stretched on the ground, there were visible only
the driver undone man who was evidently a
prisoner.

Directly the six men and their prisoner
hastened away, and were soon lost to sight in
the timber. ‘

The driver, with a. pleased expression on his
countenance, pitched into the stage the ugly
gowns and horrid ,bonnets that had been w orn
by the six women asscn ers.

“It’s all right, adies,’ be said, answering
Rosina’s loolr of inquiry. “ You are safconongh
now.” ' ,

“Who were those men?" she asked.

“Them’s the Green Guard, miss. They‘s
Buck Farley’s men, who came along to clean
out the road—apnts, and they did the ob up in
mighty good. style. Now we’ll git to l urneton
in a jifiy." '

 

CHAPTER XIII.
NUMBER ONE.

THAT portion of the encounter-between the
Green Guard and the brigands which Rosina
did not witness had been more interesting than
the scene that happened to come under her
View.

The six women passengers, when the were
ordered out of the stage, had taken their posi-
tions, as if by a preconcerted arrangement, in a
line facing their fees, and a nod or gesture
from their leader served them as a command.
The sneers and jeers of the rough men about
them had no efi'ect upon them, and they stood
there, silent, unmoved, and impressive in their
ugliness.

“Who the deuce are you, anyhow?” rudely
demanded the chief of the brigunds. -

“TVs are the wives of elder Quisby, of Salt
Lake City,” replied she who had sat upon the
box, in a cracked falsetto. "

“If you half—dozen heifers have got any
pockets, just turn them inside out, and save us
the trouble of searching you.”

“ We are under the protection of the Lord,
and the ungodly cannot bar-mus.”

“ We’ll see about that. Go for ’em, boys i”

“Sisters,” said the tall female, “let us
unite—" ‘ ,

Under their u ly gowns they were able to
draw and cook t sir revolvers without being
perceived.

“ In prayer I”

. This was the signal, and the fire from six re.-
volvers flashed in the faces ’of the astonished
outlaws.

So rapid was the firing, and so deadly was
the aim of those outlandish women, that the
brigands could ‘not pretend to face it. With
yel s of terror and screams of pain those who
coulduSc their legs turned and ran.-

“ Stop, you co rdsl” shouted their leader,

. who had not been it. “Are you‘going to run

from a lot of old women?” .
But the old women, as soon as their firin had
produced the panic they desired, erke (fl
,7 bonnets with the ca erity of a
“li htning chang'e'artist” in a variety show,
an th ‘ stood ; stalwart men, clothed in a.

uniform of' dark“ green, and‘ wearing green

masks. . ,

"Th.e Gféén ,Guardl” exclaimed the outlaw
chief, and he, too, darted awa into the timber.

The margin, green had not. owedthelr trans-
formation scene togntarferc withtheir 0 rs.-
flops, andyhey‘secured‘trom the general ight
one. prisoner, who had Stumbled and fallen as
he turned to run. .

“You may 0 on now Jonas,” said the leader
of the Green nard'lq ‘tbe driyer of the stage.
“Tell Mr. Bfllinfi'th‘atrhe may send what ex-

frrigbtlle c  Onthe next trip." _

. Two of the men in, green lock the risoner by
the arms, two is the way, and lwo rou tap
the rear. Thus t mOVed through the t mber.
silent] and in mi itary order. until they had
,c a ridgoand descended into a glen where
six orses‘were hitched. v

.. Here‘they mounted, the prisoner leing tied
behind one (if the men; an rode away under
the starlight, silentlyghnd swiftly.

“The course they were taking was not leading
them toward,Warneton, and the prisoner grew
une . ., ~ . -

“fie you takin’ me to jail, strangers?" he

” We are jail omm for,'you,” answered the

r. r, .

“Ain’t you goin’ to give me up tonic law ?”

' - “Wears the law,” was the stern re ly.

Then he could easily uess at his 00m, and
knew that no efforts of h 5 could ayert it.

The man in green finally came to a halt near
the edge of the fearful chasm of Death Gulch.

Here they hitched their horses, and formed
in a circle round the prisoner. -

The moon had risen, and illuminated the bare
plain and the scattered rocks and bowlders, but
only deepened the darkness of the abyss. It
shone upon the dark forms of the Green Guard
and the movelcm figure of their prisoner. It
also lighted up weirdly a large tree standing

——‘

and don’t hang me!"
' “Did you ever have mercy, Bill Saunders? .

.

' mended I
_ this time in the morning?"

 

 

near the edge of the chasm, from which a large
limb reached out ominously over the gulch.

“ Bill Saunders,” said the leader of the party,
“ on have been caught in the act of trying to
roh a stage. No proof is needed, as we all
know that you are guilty. Have you anything
to say for yourself to show why you should not
be hanged?”

“I never did it afore,” began the prisoner,
with a doleful whine. ' ‘

“ That is a. lie. The same gang stopped the
stage several times this season, and you were
with them every time.”

“I mean ter say that Inever did it afore I
j'ined ’em. And they made me jine ’em. They
forced me to it. I couldn’t help myself. Let
me ctr, boss, and 1 will leave this yore kentry,
and never come in sight of it ag’in."

The leader shook his head.

“ It ’ud pa you to let me ofl,”
Saunders. “ kin make" it wuth yer while an’
no mistake. Lawns slide outen this, an’ mi tell

on the names of the gang an’ who‘s at the.
head. It’ll ’stonish you a heap, an'Tll let you
in to all the games they’re up to.”

“We know every man of them," coldly re-
plied the leader.’ “ Bill Saunders, you have
said nothing to show why you should not be

him
It

persisted .

ed.”
Tlease don’t_hang mel” begged Saunders,
piteously “ I ain‘t iith to die.

Look around you, and think where you are.”

The prisoner gave one glance around. Then
he drooped his head and shuddered. _
' A rope was assied over the large limb of the
tree at the go of the gulch. One end was
held by four oi! the men in green. A noose at
the other end was fitted on Bill Saunders’s neck,
and he was stood up under the limb, just at the
brika (if tlhe chess. t ed

he ea ero eparypina a a ru 11
his breast and stepped back. P pe p0

“Bill Saunders, said be, “if this had been-
your first offense, or even our first season of
unlawful work, there might:
your life. But you are also here now to atone
for another and greater crime—theorime of
murder.”

“ Who did I ever murder?” whined the mis-
erable wretch. -

“You remembered that deed when I told
you to look around. On this very spot—how
many years a oiwas itl—you and three other
merciless fieu s launched into that bottomless
abyss a man who was bound and he] less in
£0ur hands. That man was named ward

orlon, and he had never done you an wrong."

“Who told you that?" screamed aunders.
“It’s a lie! You can’t roveit!” / .
“ I am the man, and have come uptrom the

grave to accuso yen.” ‘
The doomed man writhed «

until! the noose
tightened arouud'his’neck. ' ' '

“Take me away!” he eutreatiad. e‘i-Whatever; m

'(‘fa

you do, don’t hang me here!"' . «
The leader raised his hand and fine four men

at the rope ran up theirihelploss victim: until he ,

dangled over the abyss; . .  . - e . -

Then the rope was made fast to the‘tm-and
the men‘ inl’greeni'mounted theirvhorses and-
rode‘away.’ "p"  "   :zx‘
’ ' ' 9.i . . 7

On that mowing!“ :Peh'o ram-Kw“;
aroused: from his' it a: mnmby two
riders, who brought Mien! anon who was!
badly wounded. ‘ a I » ' -. 2.2.

He let them in at once, cursing as he listened-
to the tale they told in sis-few'wordsm

ble. ._

A bed was pro _
and he was ma 6’51 comm ' ble.
No physician was so
have been brought. ‘
needs were attended tooby

1.... ~ {LI‘

rev thhgwmded 
tenth”:
‘Nth ..
 m wife,

end by their! raw-NEW“!

there_ ' v v . . - A: .a" ‘.‘
When he had done what hvooild Tier
:fimhmsalgiffi?”3w told mm mm
o s w o‘ e‘ 0 men a ' ' '
His  were-dark,

and his words re ne of magma. v‘ .
Sonora 
lasted un ‘a‘late rotthon"

until an early hour the . ‘
Shorfttly :1;er “363%?! I!”
while 05 a an A 1P W  some!
news the had broughtgvl' fIM'chW ys
came rid ng in a sin ofw «comm;
His usually ru dy face WI! P110;  his accents
were tullot terror; _  ' -~  v
_ “ What. is the_matter With you, Marti-0’ de<
 "'What brings ’0‘ here at

1  I. never 

palither,

“ 0h, serior‘,‘ such a sight
the like again i” '

“ What sight is that? ' ‘ ~

“ It‘s at Death Gulch senor-not the town,
but the gulch itself—‘where a large  hangs
over the cliff!” .

“ But what is it you chicken-hearted block-
headl What have you seen?” .

“ A man is ban g_ from that tree, senor. _I
could not see his ace plainly; but, I thought it
might be Bill Saunders."

Have mercy, '

'he a. chance for 

fie
and-listened to. .-
mmoodfi. r
ed “conference; which" in

. tint-i. ..
- assimilate mailed

mm .b

finismw .rlptttw’rs‘ésrh

~. 3, .v

Buck Farley. the Bonanza‘Princ'e.

 

11

 

“ it must he Bill Saunders,” said Rosalba,
’ turning to'his wii'e. “ Rafferty said, but they
had seen -i;othing of him since the“; ht, and
supposed him to have been killed or captured.
The Green Guard have taken him, and have
strung him up. Oh, they shall pay dearly for
this night’s work.” . p

“ But why should they carry him to the
Gulch?” asked Senora Rosalba.

“ That is more than I can tell you. Call two
more men, Martin, and bring me my horse.
We will go and take him down." .

The sun was rising when Pedro Rosalba and
his three companions reached the Gulch, the
cowboy who had brought the news to the ranch
hanging- back as if he feared to see that dread-
ful sight again. '

It was anything but a pleasant spectacle to
the others—that of the man swinging there
from the branch of the tree lifeless, and with
discoloredfaoe, andwith the huzzards hovering
over his head. .

In spite of his distorted and blackened fea-
tures, they easily recognized the hangin form
as that of Bill Saunders, and speedin per ormed
the unpleasant task of lowering him and remov-
inithe rope from his neck. . ' .

paper was fastenedupou the dead' man’s
breast, and .Pedro Rosalba. turned pale and
trembled as , he read these words; .

’ “NiJMBE'a ONE.”

“What does that mean?" heasked, inahoarse
and unnatural whisper.- “Number One! What
other numbers are to follow?” ~

"Look wyere. boss!” exclaimed one of his
companions. “ Yere’s suthin’ mighty queer.”

Rosalba ate ped to'where the man was bend-
ing over a at gray stone, imbedded in-ithe
ground near the edge of ihe cliflf, and in‘the
morning’s light he read this inscription:

“sacann so was MEMORY
or
EDWARD DORLON,

Who Died Suddenly
mama arm.”

A date followed—a date which Pedro Rosale
had good reason to remember. '

“ Yere’s another of ’em.” said another man,
and on the other similar stone he read a similar
inscription, with a difl’erentdate. and with the
name of Henry Warren in place of Edward
Dorlon: ' . - .-

As he rose from the ground his face was ashy
pale, and his stout frame shook like a- leaf. .

A! he spoke, the hollow tones of his voice
showed intense emotion. . . . .. .
“Take Bill Sounders away from there, and»
buEyhim assoanasyeucan. ’- v.

e

  

mounted his horse, and rode away none
10: thgmen described it, “half the devil drove.
m.<‘  .
. ,r i'ee_oaarraax1v.
   use“. “We 5‘ '1 ’
 he ‘Aflusla _‘ ‘ 'ointh'N‘ew ‘ bi:-
ma‘rri. .éxeistence Toffl gore

,‘ lation’the , , ,
mend his,me had .not been a happy
_ e.

, .one. In tact they had led'a cat and do

flhe  a] foteacmalosses
b thfi 'Wlatlonfbifi for the down-

incd
.aumm isimopec that braided‘upou

sh had
at... .w .couunually‘lgrowin' t to‘
Wight s ‘nsJaim u‘, .hsviri‘ggheeftbe

m .miooithe m e _ V. - . , ..,
F the wempucticgll ruined. '.‘ era ch
wzrhldzdth slime: M310. ' r'pgrt ‘

g“ mat

of 1; air rsoual pro rt? had 9 '
hi museum: 1.39:1. Y 0.18084 ’1‘ -.
finish. 1% t swelling ends: so

W yM' ‘l H 2’ ‘ a
,.,u hMQJthw‘F 9m ,7 ,
July-commie aging.“ “ethifimn °‘
on. _ I c v ‘ un-
deot'un  evi wot
, I m
we . “no? , more“; ‘ve
a; ‘w 0 did the 11nd"
W“ “mi d ‘W
G We. ,
£88:

on
r, (
til! i
a

s I

Rosalba was .30 .earn What “he had7seen

undilth these; nit-he was so .badlxshaitered,

niodly and. me, , ,,tbat she could get.

nothing coherent from  ,er a while, and it

'wasenot until-he had fortified his system with

finny‘dnughteof whisky that he could summon
to

SM. . , r, , .
“ what is the matter with you, Pedro?” she,
demanded. “ Have you got to be such a white-
Iivered coward. that the sight qt a dead man
can throw you into a fit?” .  V,
“ It was not the dead man alone,"ihe replied.
“It was Number One !” '
» “Number One! Are you crazy,’man? What
do you mean by that?"
‘ 011' Bill Saunders’s

 

breast was' fastened a

"a: mane} hid den

6,".

(‘l “ '
. .  .b

rapper", and on that paper was written Nwm lm'
ll?-

“ What of that? It means, I suppose, that
they have made an end of one of the gang, and
have labeled him Number One."

' “ I am afraid it means more than that, Lucio.
The tree from which Saunders was ban ng
stands over the'spot where that Yankee, or—

Ion, went over the gulch.”
What has that to do

“ Surely Iyou are crazy.
with our umber One?"
“ ear the tree We found a flat stone, like a
.‘tombstoue, and It was marked to the memory
of Edward Dorlon, who died there suddenly,
and the date was given.”

“ Santissima madre !” exolaimed Senora Ro-
salba. “That is strange, indeed. Who can
have done it? But I do not et see what it has
to do with the pa on the end man’s breast."

“There were four of us, Lucia who pitched
that follow into the ulch, and hill Saunders
was one i the four. e is Number One. Who
will be umber Two?”

“ It ought to be you, you craven idiot. If the
foolkiller of whom these Yankees talk were to
come this way, you would go off uddeuly. Do
you sup ose that Dorlon hascome to life, after
having een thrown into that bottomless pill
01‘ do Bou fancy that his ghost is wandering
about eath Gulch, c ng heavy stones,
cutting words on them, an hanging paltrylel"

" Lucia do you know what he said ore we
'swun ' him ofll I told on, but you have
doubt ess forgotten it. I s all never forget one
word. I have wished to forget it, but cannot.
This is what he said:

. “ ‘ I warn you that from this night}:ch forth
on will be marked'men. You shall yet puy

he debt on mac me, and, livin or dead, I
will be on and or the settleme‘n t. ”
“Living or ead!” mused Senora Rosalba.

“He cannot be living, and the dead do not
return. He was trying to frighten you. Pedro.
If he did not succeed in soaring you then, he

' has put a scare on you now that bids fair to

last through your life.” ,

“You may make sport of this. Lucia; but
what does it mean, if t is not a vengeance?"

“ Bahl You make me sick. You are getting
childish as you grow in years. This is nothing
but what is called—what is the word, now?—u
coincidence. Bill Saunders was caught robbing

‘a stage, and was hanged by the Green Guard.
That is plain enough. The stone must have
been placed there by some friend of that fellow
Dorlon.‘ Who could it have been? Benito was
strangely fond of him, and you told me that he
wast ere when the accident happened to' the
yOung man. May it not have been Benito who
'placed the stonel’ ,

Pedro Rosalbn poured down his throat another
strong dose, of whisk'y- but it did not change
thevdeathly palenesh 0 his face.

' “ Another stone is there, Lucia. and the story

it tells i one of which Benito could have known
. nothing,” " l
‘ “ at story is that?  ~ '

“,The‘otherstone is marked to the memory of

Henry Wanna who also dfed'suddealy on the
teams spot, and the dateofhis dea is'giveu."
. 1i has gallant} _., lbg who then a ivered and
turded pare. pd in criternphe resorted to the
fihis , martensirengthg ‘ ’ '~
f F“ n : - ‘aflepF‘ the ‘ exclaimed. “My
husha d ' This is nebvi to me. I was never
"told how'he‘ died. Waste, also,‘thrown' into
Dfiilifllgh‘riv' ' will l“‘h'dh “ ofh a"
_, ,  u, ,5 a scorne’ im
gem‘argdg‘ddffisflba‘: spirits risingi’as those of
{8 WI e . vr . . ’ ' -

-z an o't’khow“. ' as " '1 all

he Elemental-a] >213. Iglow'shonldpi

v .‘

   

W ~ . . .
 " 6 never ' 'ed‘ because the riddl '- was
' too «QM  on know um I' wouled not
taming” you it .1 had not beén infect his
"  . aluix‘l‘was obliged t5 Wants."
e A but," she exclaimed, firefly.
pneumonia Gulch. on, you
murderer?” ' " '

, “WeiHPr ed  with sneer.
 onlgufuogtgl'mItoiifei‘  "it fall
. ro n ' sum 9 ,

did or: #97" ,Asfiorlan died.'so did Hog?
$7 n‘,‘_‘a ’j’n the death of each of these
" ‘  and obeyed‘your
“th ‘ ‘o‘  .éxclaiinedthe‘ infari ted
grati‘hw art‘ssowara to try to saddle
 "me. I miner consented to
the deaf _ husband. 1' wish'he had not
,d  _h  im‘because be warm Yankee:
'b ’t‘ he w; a man, and he would‘nev'erhave

stripped me‘of everything and left me to starve.

“ So you 'R
“ You threw.

    
   

by) rushin headlong into crazy 3 culations of
,w ichjie ew no more than a oh d."

" You nppro‘Vi-d the speculations, and encour-
aged them, replied Rosalba. '
' “I did not. I trusted in you. and believed
what on said, bebause I u to he a
,man. nstead of a blunde block and and a
cowardly fool, who is won enou ‘to hire
others to work the revenge which is afraid
to seek for himself.” ,
Rosalba lied angrily, and one word led to
another, on they were quarrelingu hotly as

 

 

12

 

Buck Farley, the Bonanza Prince.

 

 

any drunken husband and his wife ever wran-
gled in a hovel or tenement-house.

This scene of domestic discord was interrupted
by the arrival of a man who was an entire
stranger to both of them.

He was a briskrlooking man, no longer young,
and yet not far enough advanced in years to be
called middle-aged. He was dressed in a style
of seedy gentility, wearing a high but, that was
by no means new, and a black frock coat, but-
toned up. In his left hand he carried a bundle
of rinted papers, and his right hand was ex-
ten' ed oratorically as he entered the room with-
out knocking or announcing himself.

"Let us have peace,” be said, spreadin his
mouth in a bland smile, as he halted. “ ith
malice toward none, and with charity for all,
let peace prevail in this mansion."

“ Who the devil are you?” demanded Rosalba,
turning upon him angrily.

“ No rlevll, most supient signior, but an angel
of beneficence, come to pour upon these troubled
waters the sweet and sacred oil of science and
philosophy.”

“ Cut-to your impudencel What do you mean
by walking into t is house without an invita-
tionl”

“ Permit me to introduce myself. Parmenas
Pratt. at your service, Master of Arts and Doc
tor of Philolo y, formerly editor of t 6 Banner
of Health an president of the faculty of the
Universal University of Eclectic Empiricism.”

“ What are you. anyhow—a corn doctor, or a
traveling assayer?”

“ More and better than either, most noble
Castilian. I am at present the sole proprietor
and manager of the great moral and scientific
cabinet 0 wonders, known as the Magnoster-
eopti'con. which has been exhibited with un-
bounded enthusiasm before the rrowned heads
of Europe and the (fete aristocracies of the
ancient empires of Asia, Africa and Australia.
Hearing of the exalted attainments of your ex-
cellency, and of the beauty and grace of her
excellentissima, I have come to give you an
opportunity of assisting at that unparalleled
entertainment for one night only, at the Grand
Opera House, a the neighboring town of Death
Gulch. I have the honor to offer you a circular,
sir. Favor me by accepting one, madame."

Rosalbe. glanced over the circular which
proved to be an extravagantlyworded an-
nouncement of a magic-lantern exhibition.

“We don’t take any stock in that sort of a
show," said he. “We flatter ourselves that we
are a touch above the two-bit trash.”

“ Two—bit trash 1" exclaimed Parmenas Pratt.
“ A gentleman of your caliber should not mis-
take the character of this unequal-ed entertain-
ment. If you will examine attentiver the
announcement, you will perceive th at the charge
for admission is six bits, children under ten half
price, and I hope you haVo plenty of children
though mine ears have not yet bum gladdened
by the sound of infantile prattliv-g. It would
be a pity if a couple of such high ition and
such rare attractions should have ailed to per-

tuet: their features for the benefit of pos-

it .

“ take some of the tick a" Pedro,” said
senora Rosalba, “ if only to stop is tongue."

“ Mervod seats one dollar, most gracious
lady and I assure you, upon my word as a

tleman and a scholar, that the entertainment
well worth witnessing.”

Rosalba Ipurchased two tickets for reserved
seats, and armenaa Pratt went on his way ro-

juicing.

“ Is it taught, my dear Pedror’askod Senora
Rosalia. “ e wil go there, and will forget
our cares and sorrows. Why should we bor-
row trouble and fret about fancied dangers!
As that man with the limb» tongue said, let us
have peace!”

“ We will mi alma, to witness, this small
exhibian w th the large name." '

CHAPTER XV.
m XAGIOSTIRIOPTICON.

Tun atvle and uality of the Grand Opera
House of Death Gu ch did not justify the sound-
lug title that had been conferred upon it. It
was merely a shanty of unusual size, no better
than a barn as to its exterior, its sides built of
planks standing on end, but with a false front
ashigh as the ridge pole. The green timber
had shrunk so that outsiders could steal glimpses
of the mysteries within, until the enterpriain
pro rietors put a stop to the free sight by nai -
mg attens over the cracks. The interior was
gorgeously whitewashed, and a, raised platform
supported a wall paper proscenium and some
rudel painted scenery.

Alt iough the opera house of Death Gulch had
never witnessed a performance of grand opera,
or even of comic opera, and no legitimate
dramatic company had yet ventured upon the
town, ighad a ready been invaded several times
by variety shows, sleight of hand performers.
and the like, who had been liberall rewarded
for the entertainment they afford to the deni-
zens of Death Gulch.

On the occasion of Par-menu Pratt‘s exhibi-
tion of the Magnostereopticon the hall was
crowded. The aristocracy of Death Gulch and
VVai-neton occupied the reserved seats, which

 

.

were c irs near the stage, and the benches were
filled w th miners, ranchmen, and citizens gen-
erally. ' '

Pedro Rosalba and his wife were there, occu-
pying a choice position near the front.

A large white sheet had been stretched across
the stage, upon which the pictures were to be
thrown, and thetproprietor had stationed as-
sistants at each 0 the coal oil lamps, to lower
and raise the lights as the exigencies of the en-
tertainment should require.

Parmenas Pratt, whose heart must have been
rejoiced by the flow of cash into his treasury
stepped upon the stage at the time appointed
for the opening of the exhibition, armed with
along wand. He was dremed as he had been
when he visited the Rosalba ranch, and with
the same grandiloquent flow of language which
he had used in soliciting custom be made a
speech to the audience, describing the nature of
t e entertainment, and announcing the necesr
sitv of darkening the room, that the effects of
tliie ldfagnostereopticon might be fully appro-
c ate .

The lights were turned down. 'Darkness is
conducive to silence, and the hall was quiet
when the exhibition be an.

The show was a fair vgood one of its kind.
The pictures that were thrown upon the screen
were mostly views of scenery and noted build-
ings in the new and old‘ worlds, which were de-
scribed in quite a graceful and interesting man-
ner by Pratt, who pointed out the prominent
objects with his wand, and interspersed his de-
scri tions with many hits of accurate and val-
uab e information.

Besides these views the exhibitor occasional-
ly introduced a comic face or scene, upon which
be kept up a running fire of comments that
were at least as funny as the ictures them-
selves. As most of the figures ad the power
of motion and of sudden change, the effect upon
the audience was exhilarating in the extreme.

The crowd was very well-behaved. It is
probable that the darkness had a sobering in-
fluence upon them, and the lecturer compli-
mented them as being the most orderly audience
before whom he had had the pleasure of exhib-
iting in a long time.

Occasionally an uncouth comment or hearty
expression of approval from some rough miner
or ranchman greeted a. view of special interest,
and each of the comic scenes brought forth a
general burst of uproarious laughter.

Pedro Rosalba and his wife enjoyed the en-
tertainment hugely. Born and reared in Cali-
fornia when it was a Mexican prov’nce, seldom
had either of them seen any other life than that
of the mountains and plains, and even a magic
lantern show wasa treat to them. They stared
at the serious scenes, and laughed at the comic
ones, as fully-and freely as any cowboy in the
crowd.

“ ow ladies and gentlemen," said Parmenas
Pratt, when the funniest of all his pictures had
passed from the screen, " I shall have the honor
of exhibiting to you some views and events of
local attraction, which willdoubtless be readily
reco iced by this immense audience. In the
wo s of an eminent gentleman who dignifies
the histrionic profession in the city of New
York, I shall resent to you themes of con-
temporaneous uman interest. Scone the first
illustrates one .of the natural wonders of this
region.”

The picture thrown upon the screen showed a
bare and rocky foréground, reaching to what
seemed to be the go of an abyss, asall was
blackness beyond, until the top of another clif!
could be diml distinguished.

“ Death Gu chi" shouted a heavy voice in the
rear of the ball. ‘

“ The second aoene,”seid the exhibitor, “ adds
the element of life to the desolate view, and
shows one of the possibilities of the locality.”

On the screen a peered the same view of
Death Gulch; but i ere were stars in the sk ,
and the figures of four men studio neart e
edge of the chum, who held a fth man,
bound, and suspended horimntally in their
arms. The faces of the four were turned away,
but that of the fifth man was plain] visible.

“ Henry Warren, by all that's ho yl" was the
about that came from the rear of the ball.

This cry wuxollowed b the murmur of many
voices; but high above a rose the shrill scream
of Sonora Rosalba. who suddenly sprung to her
feet, and fell back lie-vii into her chair.

As her husband turn to exist her, the pic-
ture sod from the screen.

“ a uiet. Lucia!” he said, in a hoarse whis-

r. “ his ’4 some cursed game, and we must
not let it catch us.”

“ The third and last of these scenes of local
attraction," said the exhibitor, “will close the
evening’s entertainment, and I take this op-
portunity to return thanks for your liberal
patronage and kind attention.”

The scene gave the same view of Death
Gulch, with four men holding a fifth as if in
the act of throwing him into the chasm. But
the face of one of the seeming executioners, as
well as that of their victim, was plainly visible
to the audience.

“ Ned Dorlon!" was heard from half a down
voices in different parts of the hall.

 

“ Pedro Rosalbal” was distinctly pronounced
at the rear.

A hoarse oath came from the front seats, and
a man could be dimly discerned there, strug~
glin with a woman who sought to hold him.

“ he transformation of this scene,” said the
exhibitor, "is of thrillinginterest."

The man who was bound flew from the hands
of the four standing figures, out into the black-
ness that showed the chasm.

At the same instant the report of a pistol
run through the building. ;
“ r again, my Christian friendl" said Par-o
menus ratt, as bland as ever. “It is simpler
than throwing me into Death Gulch.”

Suddenly the lights were raised, the picture
faded from the screen, and Pedro Rosalba was
seen standing by his seat, with a. smoking pistol
in his hand.

Immediater an uproar arose in the hall.
Men jumped on the benches, and pistols were
drawn on all sides.

“Kill him!"

“ Hang the old scoundrel l”

“ Lynch the black-hearted villain 1"

Such were some of the cries‘with which the
hall resounded, and stalwart men with threaten-
ing looks and words began to crowd toward
the spot where Pedro Rosalba still stood, the
portly figure of his wife clinging to his shoul—

ers.

Over all the confusion sounded the voice of
Parmeuas Pratt, in clear and commanding
tones:

“ Order in the halll Men of Death Gulch and
Warneton, let us have peace! Nobody is hurt,
and the little accident which has just occurred is
of no sort of consequence. I take it as a h gli
compliment to my arr. and the excellence of my
unparalleled exhibit.on,that my Christian fl‘lt nil
has been so excited by its wonders as to forget
himself and the company he was in. Lot us
separate, ladies and gentlemen, with feelings of
amiability and mutual geod will, and quietly
retire to our virtuous coaches, to dream of the
glories of the Magnostkreoptfcon. Again thank-
ing ~you for your kind attention and liberal
patronage, I wish you all good night.”

The readiness with which the audience obeyed
the speaker, putting up their deadly weapons,
and peaceably filing out of the hall, proved his
ability to pour oil upontroubled waters.

Pedro Rosalba was one of the last toleave the
building, his portly wife hanging upon his arm,
and partly shielding his person, as if she feared
that the mob might at attempt to tear him
from her and hurry him to instant execution.

They entered their stout and clumsy buggy,
which had been left near the hall, and drove
away, followed by scowliag looks and muttered
threats. .

“ How could you do it, Pedro?” asked Senora
Rosalba, when they were fairly out of the town.
“ Why did you fire at that man!”

. “I was crazy, Lucia. .That cursed picture
drove me wild. It is stran e that I did not hit.
him as my aim was as as it ever was."

” a deserved to bek' led, I am sure: but that
yes 'pot the time or place for settling with

1m.

“ It was all a gee, Lucia, a deep and devil'-
ieh game; but I will get tq the bottom of it yet.
The man must have been hired to show those
infernal pictures; but who hired him? That is
what I want to find out. There is somebody
about here who kaowsa t deal more than
he ought to know, and w o is using his know—
ledge to crush me. That fact is growing plain-
or every day. '

“ Who can it be, Pedro?"

“ That is the question. Who can it be?"

The horse was moving slowly, and just ahead
of the b gy could be seen a man walking down
the road a the t.

As he approached the vehicle, he stopped, and
es‘k‘egitg b: diretithedrtgageath Gulch. i n

t own 0 asyouaregong, re-
plied  .
He stopped toward the busy and its occu-
pants observed that he was an d man, wearing
a hoe beard, and with salouchod hat drawn
over h face.

“ It is the town of Death Gulch that, I want‘to
dad," said he, “not the hole in the ground that
goes b that name.”

“ I irected youtotlio town of Death Gulch,”
replied Rosalba. .

‘Many thanks to you both," said the stran-
ger, as he raised his hat, and the moonlight
shone full in his face.

Senora Rosalba screamed wildly, and fell
back in the scat.

Pedro Rosalba‘a face turned aah pale and he
brought down his whip with a earfu cut on
the back of the horse. which dashed awa at
breakneck speed, while the clumsy Ve icle
rattled and jolted over the stony track.

The old man looked after them with a smile
on his face, and then turned and walked down
on the road. ' I

In a few minutes he was jomed by another
man.

“Why, Warm," said the latter, “ you seem
to have given those good people quite a scare. ’7

“Yes. my son. I am afraid they must have
taken me for a ghost."

\/

 

"Buck Farley, the Bonanza Prince.

13

 

 

CHAPTER XVI.
A sranar nacoumn.

Mas. OUTEAM and Rosina were located on
the second floor of the Lincoln’me in Warne-
ton, and their windows commanded a view
of the main (and only) street of that young
but ambitious town.

They were much better pleased than they had
expected to be with Warneton and with their
accommodations. When the Bonanza Prince
and his partner started to work a mine or build
a town, they made a thorough job of it, and
they well know the value of a good hotel to a
new settlement. Consequently the Lincoln
House, which was their property, was a. rather
better hotel than‘ Warneton was then able to
support, or would be able to support for some
years.

As Rosina was writing at a table in her room,
which served her temporarily as sleeping apart-
ment and office, Mrs. Outram entered in a state
of “flustration.”

“My dear Rose,” she said. ‘f it is a blessin
that we did not go to the exhibition at Deat
Gulch last night. They had a terrible time
there, and a pistol wasilred in the hall.”

“That is not such a very terrible thing,
auntie. At least it is not unusual. Was any-
body hurt?"

“Fortunately there was not. A man in the
audience shot at the showman, and who do you
suppose that man was? Rose, it was Pedro
Rosalba.”

“Pedro Rosalbn'l That sweet and tender
stepfather of mine? Why, auntie, you throw
me into a perfect fever of excitement. What
was the trouble? Why did he shoot at the
showman l”

“1 will tell you all about it, my child. I
knew that you would want the full particulars,
and I got the whole story from a man who was
there.’

Mrs. Outram proceeded to give a detailed
account of the exhibition of the magnoster—
eopticon, and the episode of the shooting, as
viewed by the clerk of the Lincoln House, who
had occupied one of the reserved seats. _

“Henry Warren l” exclaimed Rosina, when
that part of the narrative was reached, “ why,
that was my father. Was that the way he met
his deathl‘ I have alway:a believed-hut no
matter now what I have lieved. The faces
of those who held him, auntie—did you hear
what men they were?”

“No. Their faces could not be seen. Mr.
Sims did not know the face of Henry Warren,
but it was recognized by more than one person
in the audience." '

“What was it, then, that led to the shootin i"

“That is what I am comin to," replied rs.
Outram, and she. went on wit the story.

“ i can see it now !” exclaimed Rosina, when
the old lady was describing the third of Par-
menas Pratt‘s “scenes of local attraction." “I
know the man who was bound and hel less in
that picture. Oh, auntie, was it not ward
Dorlon!" .

“Yes, Boss. That was the name that was
called out by several persons in the audience.
And there was another face that was recognized
—the face of one of the men who held him."

“Oh, you! 1 can as. it all clearly. It is easy
enough to guess at that. The face was Pedro
Rosalba’s, and that is what caused him to shoot
at the, showman. But you say that nobody was

urt. r

“Nobody was hurt; but Mr. Sims says that
Pedro Rosalba. would have been roughly handled
by the crowd if the showman had not begged
them to let him be." .

In. Outram gave the conclusion of her story
in a few words.

“Oh, auntie!" exclaimed Rosina, who had
risen, and was peel the floor ra idly, “ what
afearful thing this a! Bow vi dly and ter-
ribly it brings back to mothat wretched time

when I lost in loverl I knew that he was
slain b Pedro lbs, and that he met just
such a rible death as was shown in that pic-

ture. Benito told me about it—Benito,m only
friend. He did not give me all the calm
--ho could not,‘ poor boy! as ho was stricken
down insensibla before the fatal deed was done
—hut that must have been the manner of my
dear one’s death and it in no wonder that Pedro
Rosalba’s conscience mote him—or his fears.
You say that it is a big-lug to us, auntie, that we
were not there last night. It would have been
a blessing to me if I had been there},

“Mere on us,Rosol How could you have

engIred‘ldh b htu th f

t wou ave foul P 0 past ear-
fullv; but I would be able to bear that if I
could see the fright of Pedro Rosa] and feel
that some portion of the pol-I1?! that his due
is being visited upon him."

“Iam afraid. my child, that Your feelings
are nits unchristian.”

“ t.them be so. They are at least natural.
Can I be expected to love tho'man who mur-
dered my love, who robbed raw 1110 Of “5 011°“:-
est blessing? Ihhate iPezlllj'O glosagahggsfiy

eatesto in 'vin s 0 09° 8

e retri uytion thatgawaits him. What 18 that
hullabaloo in the street belowi" .

 

She ste pad to the window, raised an edge of
the clo curtain, and looked out.

“ It is he!” she exclaimed. “It is Pedro Ro-
salbai He is vaporing about, and acting like a
madman.”

It was, indeed, Pedro Rosalbamho was raising
a. disturbance in the street of Warneton.

Half crazed by the siglhts he had witnessed at
the exhibition of the agnostereopticon. and
b the subsequent ap arance of the man or
g ost on his homew road, he had risen at an
early hour in the morning, had armed himself,
had taken on an extra load of ii uor, and had
ridden to the town of Death Gu ch, with the
wild intention of venting his spite upon some-
body, and with the special purpose of calling
Buc Farley to account for what he styled the
New 0 hir swindle.

At th Gulch he was informed that the
gentleman be was seeking had gone to Warne-
ton, and to Warneton Ecsalba proceeded, after
takln on an additional load of whisky.

At arneton he began to make the rounds of
the barrooms, drinking at each, and openly
proclaiming his p so of forcing a settlement
with the Bonanza rince, whom he loudly ac-
cased of being a swindler.

By this time the li nor be had drank had
heated his blood and red his brain, until he
talked and acted as Rosina said, like a mad-
man. He rushed out of a barroom, and strode
down‘.‘ the street, frantically calling for Buck
Farley, and announcing his intention of demol-
ishing that individual on sight.

In short, he was “on the rampage,” and
peaceable people got out of his way while those
who were inclined to war adjusted their wea-
pons, and made ready to “get the drop " on
him if his fighting intentions should turn in
their direction.

The Bonanza Prince in the mean time had
stepped into the saloon attached to the Lincoln
Honse, where he was immediate] surrounded,
as was often the case, by a. mot ey crowd of
citizens, ranchmen, miners and loafers, who
thronged around him, shaking his hand, greet-
in congratulating and questioning him.

a _stepped to the bar, and laid a twenty-dol-
lar bill on the counter, invitin the crowd to
“partake,” and they accep the invitation
With the utmost alacritlg.

“Hurrah for Buck arlayl"shoutod a stal-
wart Irishman. “ He’s the man who stands in
wid the b’yes. Here’s good luck to our nixt
Sinatorl”

Amid the cheers and the clinking of glasses
the young millionaire saw his wa clear to
quietly escape, and he had reache the door
when the hoarse voice of Pedro Rosalba was
heard without, calling for Buck Farley, and
daring him to show his taco.

“That means me," said the Bonanza Prince
in a. friend who accompanied him. “ I must go
and see what the man wants."

“ That man is dangerous, Farley,"said his
friend. “He wants to take your life. Are
midi-ii "mid?" f th ”

u ciont y so or c resent urpose, re-
plied Farley, as he ateppedpinto the? street.

Pedro Rosalba. was striding towand the hotel,
lookin wildly about.

“ ore is Buck Farley, the swindler and
pirate?" he shouted. “ I don’t want any of you
small fry. It isa big me I am huntin to-
day. Briag out your onaaaa Prince, an let
mo 8 a crown on his head i"

“ ave you any rticular business with moi”
was asked, in a mi d but mainly voice.

The Mexican, turning, saw a well-dressed
pings: approaching him, withhia hands at his

a.
“ Are you Back Farley? he demanded, as he

raised his pistol.

“ I am.’

The s rtof a istol followed; but it
was not P re lbaw 0 find.

The Bonanm Prince had drawn a revolver
with the quickness of thou lit, and had tired
with so true an aim that h bullet struck the
barrel of Roealba’s pistol, and sent it whirling
through the air.

“ Are on sure that I am the man you want?”
he ask , as he ate pod up to his antagonist,
and looked him fair y in the face.

Pedro Rosalba threw up his hands, chi-inked,
and fell backward to the and.

“ He is not hurt,” said arloy to the men who
had crowded around. “He seems tobo or
drunk. Take care of him, some of you, on
he recovers."

The Bonanm Prince put his pistol in his
pocket, and walked away.

CHAPTER XVII.
A QUESTION 0! nominee.
- Roma, who had witnessed this scene from
behind the curtain, tottered away from the
window when it.was ended, and sunk, gasping,
into a chair.

“ What is the matter. dear love?” asked Mrs.
Outram, hastening to her side. “Rosalba has
not been killed. I heard Hr. Farley say that
he was not hurt.”

“It is not that,” faintly re lied Rosina. “I
was not thinking of him. a man who fired
the shot—i”

 

 

“You know that he is safe. You saw him
walk away unhurt.”

“ Oh, auntie, he resembles so much—so
much—"

“Whom does he resemble, dear childl”

“I did not see his face; but his form, his
walk, his action, reminded me so forcibly of my
dear, dead love, Edward Dorlon.”

“You ought not to encourage such fancies,
Rose. These accidental resemblances often oc—
cur, and you must be prepared to meet them.
Of course you cannot for an instant sup mm»
that a man who was so foully murdered so long
ago may now be living and a millionaire mine
owner."

“Of course not,
that is so strange. ’

Mrs. Outraui brought her a lass of wine,
and begged her to drive the unp easant subject
from her tho his; but Rosina persisted in
sppglring of ward Dorlon and Pedro Rov
m .

“What can be stranger” she asked, “than
that exhibition last nightl Were not those
pictures brought forward for the purpose of
producing an effect upon Pedro Rosalbal Of
course they were. Any other supposition would
be absurd. But who has done iti Who is it
that knows so much of those terrible events,
which I had believed to be secrets to all but the
murderers and their victims! Whoeverit is, he
is m friend and Pedro Rosalba’s enemy."

“ am sorry, my child, that your lot should
have fallen in the midst of such exciting scenes.
Even in San Francisco Em were continually in
fear that you would discovered by your
relations, or by some person from this region
who would recognize you; yet you have come
here of our own free wi 1, among the very

cplye w can you have regarded as your worst

08s.

“ It is fate, auntie. It is the will of Heaven,
and who can fight against thatl When I was
strangely favored by fortune, and led on to the
purchase of the Little Ruby mine, I did not

now that it was located here, so near to the
place where I was born.” ,

“But now that you do know it, Rose, you
can leave the mine, or hire some good man to
menu e it, and we can go awa ."

“I 0 not want to go away, insisted Rosina.
“I have drifted here, and am content to re—
main. I am not disposed to fight against fate.
Besides, auntie, I feel braver than 1 did, and
more confident. It seems to me that there is a
power at work—I do not know who or why or
iow—tbat is doing more for me than I could we
furm 'self, and I am almost ready to believe
that can rely upon it for protection against
all manner of enemies. Wh , auntie, if I could
have worked my will upon sdro Rosalba, what
couldI have done that would have been more
to the  than the swamping of his specu-
lation n cw Ophir, and the remainder of his
ezilhdefds that he got at the exhibition last
a i W

Mrs. Outram shook her head sadly.

“ I am afraid, my child,” she sai , “ that you
are being led away by stran e fancies.”

“I hope not:- I am sure 1 at I feel wonder-
fullly strong and confident. Come in l"

is invitation was in response to a knock at
the door, and one of the servants of the hotel
entered, brin ing a card. which he handed to
the .young la y.

“ acob Hornbyl" slie joyful] exclaimed, as
she rose from her seat. “ Aunt 9, our cod and
kind friend Bornby is herel Send h m up at
once, please."

The boy disappeared. and soon returned, fol-
lowed by that well-fed, full-faced, and leasant-
mannered entJeman who bad loaned t especu-
lating as such a considerable sum in San
Francisco.

Rosina ran to meet him, giving him both her
hands, and lira. Outram‘s face and words also
ex reased her y at seeing him.

‘lly dear omby," said the young lady,
“ you are more welor me than flowers in spring.
No In rise could have been pleasanter than
this. sit down. and make yourself at home.
I wasso anxious to see you immediately, that I
could not stop to change my dress or to trim
and Frlgs." '

“ w d have known nothing of the change
of draw it it had been made," replied Hornb .
“As for frianing and primping, that cou d

auntie; but there is so much

, hardly be worth while, as I are that you con-
, tinue to wear that odious wall, the necessity of

which I could never understand.”

“I assure you my dear friend, that it is
more necessary than ever at this lace and
tape, ’as you will admit when I tel you my
s rv.

“Your story!" exclaimed Homby. “I
would be very glad to hear it."

“I hope t a on will, before long, if ou
have patience to l stcn to it. But I am an: one
to know what it is that has brought you so far
Ironinyour COSey oflice and your beloved busi-
ness.

“Why, Miss Rosina, when you wrote to me
that you had bought the Little Ruby mine, it
was natural that I should want to come up

here and help you run it.”
“Was that what brought you!” she asked,

'

 

 

gleefullr. “You shall have any chance you i
want, then. Suppose you take a partnership in
the mine.“

“Well, now, that is a matter of business, and
we will consider it at our leisure. I must
confess that it is quite another matter of busi-
ness that 5 brought me into this region,
though on were, of course. an extra attrac-
tion. Since I had such good luck in lending
you that flity thousand—’

“ Oh, you precious usurer'!” broke in Rosina.
“ You don’t kuow how near you came to losing

. your mOney."  I I , ‘1 _

“ I do know that I got it, and that the trans- '
action paid me well. As I was going ‘to say, I
have become uite a. money~leuder.

qpaintance of a youn man, a member of an“
ad qalifornian _ funn y, named Manuel Viu-_
cente. . ‘
Rosina started, and could not wholly sup
press 2111 exciti‘matiflill:n (1)3 iigpffisg. b' L
“Dquu, ow ' . e .t e r0'er. '
‘.‘I baseboard of h m. Never mind‘ that at,
present. but go on an tell me about him)! .v
“I thought you must have some sort ot an
acquaintance with him, as he was askin ' me
about you. In fact, he introduced hi sef to
me orthe purpose of making inqui es con-
cerning a; you g lady who was doing. business ~
in San Francisco under the name ’of‘ Rosina;
But your note had warned me to keeps still
tongue about'you and your stairs, and of
course he gotnothin .outof me on that oint."
“ f ecurse, my ear'Mr. HornBy, knew
that I could trust you.” ,, ‘
“Ishould hope so. Well, in course of 'time‘
it turned out that the young man wanted to
borrow a pile of (hope on a big cattle farm u
here, that belon to hh uncle, Pedro Rosalba. ‘
Rosina'starte again: ‘ - " ."- ‘_
“Do you know theplacei’l quickly asked
Hornby, '_ ’ ' '
“ I know something about it. Have you lent
the money?” I ‘ _ . ‘
“ 0h, n'o—not at that distance. But he
oifered me such a high 'rate of interest and it
. seemed to be such a promising speculation, that
I thought it Worth while to come up here and-
.look after it, and at the same time to look after
you and the Little Rub . Now, Miss Rosina,
if you know any thi a ‘ut the place and the
parties, Ihope you will kindly give ‘me' some
points,'as.I should dislike above all things to
039 moneyb a. Mexican." ‘ '_ g
Rosina re acted. She; had no, doubt that
Pedro Resalba, having been crippled "by the,
crash in New Ophir, wa‘sseekian go raise money.
by the pledge, or mid of the ra c ,"and she was
businestsywomlaln egogglliitwobéltnow {bag the
proar ,na pros y, ‘on _0 er.'
 might Say to Kornby "ge'l‘fiiat is my
ropertyg‘, and you can get no itle to it from
gosalba, but that statement :would‘mnderv
necessary suchan explanationja's she Was not
yetgep‘aredto make. '  ’l. 
“ ou-Erlifiiwsomething about the placg or the "
people'al ft the “Qkémrzglfrha‘ihesfia:
inn. .‘,h1nk’ youo ‘m' ran ye
“rue”... g.  a. ‘=..">°»‘"..." t.
en oug smc en.  "
beaninsp‘ demand rho” '_was2 "
“Do to, ‘ck Fax-1:6,”;sapiggshe‘. “
mas n,an .I be
onest man'.‘ ‘ e isiweli acquaintedpbomherai

and can vise on.” ,
,3wte’igwni‘iaua him!" ‘

is'a:

 
 
 

He was in Warneton‘d, ' ‘tvhile'a’ ‘ . If
gags lpot here now, you wii dr’bin‘x at th
c'v _ . «no, We; ...
“ ‘ lhunthimu ‘ ‘ 1" "  .- 
“ii a?! ll? tinge  33%.er Eggs
0  on on v  ' , e
-  fie? .. I Q! . /. 1 i 
 ‘1 ‘1’ .firnll‘RI"!
‘ twigs :mitfl‘night that ._ ab  ' .
“rm cranes d~.~e.  - »
‘ ve' -e r. - ‘e’ ‘ .‘.’  "
«wfisamie ex yo? asked  €51,

am‘yzg'anximto no
.,,I ,
u

n“. w- _’ ‘ ‘
fifmiii‘ sweater." -'

“ sy haven "‘ tincon ectiouwiéithid
fitgr, flies Rosina, I'duppoae , one,"

«once... ohm  in... a. 
I ought tokno’va.” Di he green-3.131% twin-lg,
  >~ ..r_£. ,v ,4 0"...

“We ,Imey vtha Ian: 11 t ey tobej
swindl by any ' xican.‘ If?” Pedro
Rosalha. in the morning.  f ya soon
himfiwfll‘come and consult“ ,  pushom
the wane". .m... 1;. g; .

.1“ J
CHAPTER XVIII. .} , “"
our retu in “ m' {xvii 
Is rn mm 5 “ea ,5, .

for Buck Farley, Pedro Rosalba was‘bo“ late.
1y crestfallen, an. went into a fltpof thei , 8.

When he desc to, his wife his encounter.
with the Bonanza Prince, he knew that she
you‘ll? treat him scornfully; buthe was prepared

or at. ‘

“And so you fainted dead awn ,” she said,
“ at the mere sight of your toe. I ad not sup-
posed you to be such a coward as that.”

Buck, Farleytthe Bonanz

lie‘re him to as;-

are some things which will strike down the
bravest of men. Do you believe‘that the dead
can live again on this earth?” . -

Her tone changed as she thought of her own-
experience. .
" What do you mean?” she asked, feebly. ‘

“ Do you remember what you saw as we were
coming home from that cursed exhibition?"

“ I have tried to shut it from my memory,
Pedro, but cannot. It was a. dream, a phantom;
an'ac'civlental resemblance.” .

“Perhaps it was. I do not pretend to say
what it was. But I knowth an effect it had

9 upon you. To-day, when that man had shot
Shortly ’
after you left San Francisco I made the ac-l

my pistol out of my hand, he stepped up and
faced me, and what face do you suppose I
“‘7’” .. ' ‘
f‘Not your dead hhsb'an'd, Lucia, but another
dond'man.” ‘ ' ~"- u . v
“ Another?" ' -
‘ , ‘_‘ If it had been a few years younger, and
had".th worn a heavy beard, it would have

 

,’ been'the face-of Edward Doridnl"
5 ' "Sontisaz'ma‘madre [4 What is coming to

us?" *
“I don’t know that it can be'much worse
than has already come. Whatever it .is, it
seems to be something that we‘cannot‘flght
against. I am now wondering who will be
number two. You may call'me ai coward if
you pwill; but it was that face, Lucia, that
struck the doWn.” » ' ’ .
“ But you are a-man, Pedro Rosalba and you
'ought’not'to be afraid of anything living or
dead in;the esent or in the past.” ‘
" “i am no afraid, ,and on shall yet' admit
that-"I am no coward. ‘wlll makethe best
fight ‘I' can make, though I may be fighting
against fate.” , , 
Before the day was done, Rosalba and his
wife were greatly cheered and strengthened by
an arrival at the ranch-the arriVal of no less a.
person than Manuel Vincente, ' - u
’ He brought with him the marks of dissipation,‘
but the air of success.“ A keen and unscrupu-
lous gambler, he'had made his tour pay, and
was well dressed and confident, with the gold
pieces of the Yankees ingling in his pockets.
But he had sad a strange new to hear.
He had been duly informed o the New Ophir
disaster, but had yet to learn of the sucCessiVo
blows that had {a len upon the Rosalba family.
- ose~‘unplea‘sant facts were relate-die
him, his countenance fall. The state of affairs
 far from being such as he had expected to
n . . ' ’ . .
The story of the" death of Bill Saunders
startled“ him. He also was-interested in the
' question, who would be number two? The sub-
sequent events 'which had so shocked and as-
toundedhisre'latives, were agony shockin
and astouncfingifo h1m’,and he‘ “d not preten
to understand thedi‘i” " ’ v '
 when he had heard the worst, .he' pulled
'himse f tog‘ethswand declared that something-
must be done.  , '13“ j ' _ '. =7"
~ ‘f‘ye‘mnsrmake- a amour of ‘3' fight,”
%‘3Fld; '“a stronECbitter and merciless fight.
6 m‘mlfi the  ofthe enemy, and
give no__quart_er. For .th'ls'wewill-need money,
and itis ahgg‘odthing‘thnt- Ifhavobeen lucky in
W h- ‘. ‘ ,v w '.--:,._: v
nixfiut‘y‘ou“ stein? "have had rhino} in the‘
W ' t'  ' "Tsai‘d Sénora Rosalb'a.
,“_You have‘not brought, Rose-back; ‘ {lave you

 

-h€r fié'WFQnd‘Icou :
westerns 35.1.“. W? WWW he?
“Where did you find hex-P5" z,‘ ‘ ~ ' ‘1': .

“In unancisco, She was. Wtbusineslfi

  
  

the  We
‘ ' - ‘ 'eterf’liev-ia‘ld. “mete is
pow here or in inane n.5men 'is‘bu’tiafew-
“15 .’~ ' *M'm‘ i» he hisflébely w“
Who own“   email”. at!!!“

ivi a 1h. ' - .
has; i 7...; $51. a...» , 4
%’ield   y} H’s“ " ‘ v .
' I‘ We  for that, uncle’Pedro.‘- I
Have brought‘ herd a sea Francisco later-
zgd mono :lender named Homb‘ V’th is'read
’ dead on warm-the ‘if youoa ‘
show a satisfactory‘title,and‘ I‘believe I can
manage t t. “W come to see you 

5..

neither eat ,nor drink, an'd‘his manner, though
bland and cheerful, was not such as to encour-
age the would-be borrowers. , ,

“ Have you thought over the matter ‘of busi-
ness we were talking about!” asked Manuel.

 

a Prince.

' ' I
“Wait a moment." suitl Rosalba. “There

- a... ..;:e.am

foundher ,, w 1-,," .
fiter‘rdwwaes:  ....

stocks, and '
ent'

' :‘woni" du‘hgre . s , I
»« rem" M at siesta "

row mo n
l Jacdliffioghby“ ma. up: we... Rosalba ranch .
thinext morning, ajnd wow» ' «received
‘by Mannervmcente and ' uncle, asst re-
.fro'slfin'ents Before Vim, including «11me sup-
plggfwiueand li or. ,_ - " ,‘ - -
t, the man our sun Francisco would

 

__,___,__._______.:

“ Ara ‘ ( '.l 1- My t) make the 101ml bad con-
trautml l‘ur':",'

“Nor. yvrfl replied Hm'nhy. “I have made
a few inquiries, and am compelled to say that I
am not altogether satisfied with the security.”

“Oh, we can satisfy. you on that oint.
There may be' a slightcloud on the title, ut it
can easily be cleared away.”

“But the cloud that I have seen, Mr. Vin-
cente, is not a. slight'one. ‘It is strictly an ad-
verse title. I have been shown a deed to this
pfi‘operty, and it is not a deed to yoprself, or to

r. Rosalba, or to his wife.”

The thoughts of the Rosalba family at once
settled on Rose Warren, whom they believed
to be living in the neighborth under the
name of Rosina. It must be she who was re.
sponsible for this new complication.

“Who has dared to attempt to deed away
this ropertyl” demandcd Pedro Rosalba. “if

i the God you. speak of is signed by a young per-

son namcd Rose Warren, it is worthless, as she,
if sheis living, is not .yet of age.”

“The deed is not signed by Rose Warren,”
replied Hornbyr

.9‘ There can be no other person who has even

- a, shadow of a. claim to the ranch. 1 hope you

are not joking with us. Mr. Hornby.”

“‘ Indeed I amv not joking. I am telling ya
the simple truth. The man who made thisdeed
seems to have been able to show a clear title to
the land.” - . .

“ A maul Who was he?” . v _

“ The name signed to the deed is Henry War.
ren.

This name fell upon the Rosnlba family» like a
thunderbolt. Senora Rosalba shrieked, and her
husband’s dark face turned livid. Manuel Vin-

cents sat aoif he was siupeiied.

Jacob Hornby, bland and cheerful as ever,
waited patiently for them to recover from the
shock. ,

“ It is an imposition!" exclaimed Senor Ros-
alba. “ When was this pretended deeddated'!"

“September 10, 1872.” .- - ;

“ It is the clearestjpossible case of fraud.
Horny Warren died more than ten years before
that date.”

“Are you sure that he did’i”. calmly asked
Homby. .

“ Of course he did. He disappeared, and
nothing has since then been heard of him. He
is supposed to have lost his way at night, and
to have fallen into the eat chasm near here
which is known as Dent Gulch.”

d. “rigid you or any other reliable person see him
is '

“ 0h, as tothatI have told youvall I know.
There can be no doubt that the man was dead
long before that deed was dated. Nobody in

the neighborhood doubts it.” » - .

“ But=the dead I speaker, Mr. Rosalba; raises
rwhat I‘ must call a. strong doubt. It is duly

witnessed andpsoperly authenticated.”

“It is a forgeryysir, a base forgeI'Y. and I
shall see that-the forges-s are punished. Who
delaims’ t or that deed! To whom
. been given?” .

“ Buchanan Farley, commonly known as Buck
Farley”? ‘ ’ .7 rt‘v‘ V -

' - “ Buck Farleyl Shall I never hear the, last
of that man?” . ~ ‘ r _ V

The consternation of‘the 3033le family was
complete, mdvllcob Homby didnot attempt

' to increase it by acid!) sword,

“It is all a. fraud,’ said Pedro Rosalba at
lost. “It is'a plain andpalpable fraud. If
that man Farley, whom I believe to be nothing
burniswindler omullsraekodo, believed that he
I a ' ‘ Wepuoperty would he not
drive hidldahto'iuong ago? ’Yet this is the
first we have heard of his retendod deedd’

“- "“ tit . ” ed Hornby, f‘and I
cannot undertake to exp oil: it. “'3‘” I. have
m Both ehmgh

worth» ' for me.”
“‘ f aw sens-m no .ony Win the
g , nefir'ushedManuel.  ' .
, 7 '“Otoonm»idnfi

.V. ,--1'..‘.»' ‘.
~»F‘Mppooe» duwflhwant yonrexpenses 'd
unabasamf’ym  x J ' ‘ pm ’
kn" You“ not! trouble our-alt. about that,
Mr.  '1er ll :be {£118 'to' clear

y mzmrvepodmni' n.' .
(When Jdcob murmur-nod En Warneton,
Roslnwth ht sloth:

l 3‘ I hunmot museums... any money, Miss
“ Rosina,” said la“, “and I 1m. not likely to. If
venture still inméflwdlmashnrein the
Littlefiuby, Item-"fiendy to talk business?

" ‘ v .2 

I some A cum. 
WaeroIinIIIndv’Jmh Horroby‘ had had
their talk imaged-tied that mean: nime of
the Engidtondlthe Little Baby mine should
'be‘ aco Hereby £00., and the young lady
y was glad, asmany other ladies are who are not
business Wuhan. to have “a man at. the head
of the house.” The amngement was alnhigh-
1y .toMrs.0umm,wholiada ood
maggot: of“ omby, and believed that 1‘ her
"1 was hardly fitted for thebuinss’of run-

nin a mine. ‘

~ iterorn ’3 capital and she thniwork
of reopening he Little Ruby an making a

 

 

ked  “11.10" weight ‘

, “Yes. hissed ni” '
forasooundreg 

V ful Owner,”

- that

a“

 

fresh start was at once begun, and
rapidly, the indications beinggood an
ners ho eful.

“ I be love I have succeeded in getting a good
superintendent'for the mine,Y said Hornby one
mornin .

“Anybody I know?" asked Rosina.

“ I suppose not. His name is Parmeuas
Pratt.”

“ Is not that the man who gave an exhibition
at Death Gulch a while ago?”

“ So I am told. He is a sort of strolling char—
acter, But he seems to be a sensible and capable
man and he is well recommended by Farley &
Warne.

“ If they recommend him he mustbe the right
man. I would like to make his acquaintance."

“ You shall do so, of course. But I have a
com laint to make against you.” " ‘

“ hat is that, sir?” , ‘ ‘ ‘ _ ' _

“ Miss Rosina," I have been taken in.” ; ',,

“Asa partner. Yes.” ‘ '_‘ ‘

“Taken in and done for is what I mean.”

" Mercy on us! What is the matter?” '

“When you sold me an interest in the Little
Ruby you did not tell me there was a hostile
claim on the mine.” ‘

“ I could not have told you so, Mr. Hornby,
as I knew nothing of the kind. Nor do I know

(proceeded
the part-

. .

it at.” ’

Knead this document, and youwill‘ be wiser.
It was left at the mine yesterday, and I got it
this morning.” I -

The “document ” was a half-sheet of fools—
cap, on which this notification was written, in a
fair hand': ' ’

“ To whoerer may be claiming, occupying or working

the Little Ruby m'ine.’ ,

“You are hereby notified that the lead you pro-

se to work in the so-called Little Ruby mine he—
Igiigs to the New Ophir mine, of which I am the pro-
prietor, and that any working of the same by you is
unlawful, and will not be allowed. '

“ You are therefore ordered and required to quit
and abandon the same within twenty-four hours
from the receipt of this notice, and deliver posses-
sion of the same to my a cut. or sufler the conse-
quences of your refusal to 0 so! ‘  ' » ' _ ,

. ‘ "‘ Panao' Roman.

“M. Rum-n, agent’and Witness." "

“Pedro Rosalba‘ l” exclaimed Rosina.

“Yes. It seems that we both know him. ,
He is the same man who made a big strike in
New Ophir, and got swamped. Naturally he
wants to get even on somebody. The same
man, also, who tried to swindle me out of, my‘
money, and failed. ,Do you propose to obey his
order?” " p ’ I ’ ‘

“ Of course I do not. I would sooner cut off
my right hand and throw it into the the. What
possible claim can he have on the mine? “ -

“ Well, the ,bandoned shaft or New, Ophir
adjoins us. That’s as near as I can get to it.
But I regard his action as apiece of‘un aralleled

‘ impudence. He wants to spite me, suppose,

because I refused to lend him "money. Any
man can make mischief, if ,he'is mean enough to‘
do it, thOugh he has not ashadow'of; right on,
hisside.” ' ,,  , 
" But the law willprotect us 3’ gamma/31m.
“_ It won’t do- tortrust, tolthe‘Iéw,jand1here is

precious little of it,abontfhere to‘trust t6. We~

dp’as‘ other‘peopledtybqnd fight fir on};
q‘Fi'ght?”  ’ ’

   

 

J, ', so. .,

    
   

he“ Zn" "

likel‘ tolose sugars?
“ ut'I am not a‘ fig

doubt if on are}:
“ I don t pretend

}

t'er,

whether wecen, e1"_ ' ,t e,  ,
by mit‘the Megigag ’ esgto wvallfiaqflg”.
“Ivyfllsowmh-y‘um' -‘ ..  t ,
Mrs. Outram put in‘ ' vigorous pro t against,
this proceedinshh 1: Refinishing, as the"
stron tether and V orphy wasjot tip region

erecordbehodangerasyefl the
young lady mounted shone, and {04er her
partner-to the mine.‘. ”. ' ' ‘ “ '

T561. reached the mine lies; the has of the

n

afternoon.,aad'£onndP nasPratt'in ar e. ,,
Rosma wan  gp",."

pearance. ashe w a, ' ‘ht' audactlve man,
21981111113 to have enty, and determina-
on. .  ‘ J» v a V
.The hadsome omen. 't 'e‘othe
mine, zvh'ich was located‘aghg?‘ $1305 a‘ len,
as the passage was choked upyyflm bow] 9179
which the miners were. mill? n‘mlnstead of
bein employed at their usual ork. , .
as‘k‘ed fiat lire you ,tryin. 5130 do, My, Putt?”
orn . . , ,  . , ,
“ Well, ski-there’s no telling what  hap-
n, and I thought it best to pare for Houb‘ e
y throwin up a. sort of for ' cation? ’
Mr. Horn y took Rosina. into the mine, and
pointed out to her the work that had been done

and that which‘was about to be undertaken. .

Then they, returned, and inspected Pratt’s fore

tificatigi:d which was a substantial one, and ,

only 11‘ ed tobe properlyrmanned to become

formidable. .
‘ “Haw_ ,ut the miners, Pratt?” asked the

‘Buck Fan

  ail-uh. --
I v  
v egg, 
minority, sneer ~’
 new; can’hlrc men ‘
to fight for us,'as' t 6 other side.le pr bggg,

do-     9  a 

. 

ey, the Bonanza Prince.

_ 1'5

 

Senior artner. “Can we re] . upon them, in
case wephave to fight?” y'
point to them plainly. ”

“ I will do it new. ' We must know where we
stand.” ’

Hornby made a little speech to the men pre-
sent, reading Rosalba’s notification, explaining
the position of affairs, and asking them if they
would stand by the owners in the defense of the
Billie.

It was at once apparent that something was
the matter with them. They looked at each
other, and moved about uneasily.

“ What is the matter?” asked Hornb . “ You
shall be well paid for your services. peak out
plainly, and let us know whether we can de-

‘pend on you.” ' r

The men shuffled about, and looked at one
whom they seemed to regard as their leader. '

“‘I den’t know how ’tis with t’others,” said
this man at last; “ but I’d a hoe rather live

' than die, and I wasn't hired fur fig! tin’."

“ Nor I," said each of the others. r

“ As it’s about knockin’ oil time,” continued
the leader, “ I reckon we- mought as Well quit“
right now, and go home.”" ' I "

Not a Mini was said to detain them, and they

nt on their coats, and silently left the mine. ,
‘ “.That is a cowardly and shameful assertion,”
said Rosina. ' ‘ ‘

"I think I understand it,” remarked Hornb, .

plain words, they have been bought up by the
enemy, who has paid themto leave us‘in' the

in this matter a little too late."

,Rosina looked at Pedro Rosalba’s notice to
quit and.theu glanced at her watch. ' :

“ t seems to me,” said she, “ that the twenty—
four hours allowed us by this notice must have
run out.” . '

“Homby, after a brief consultation with Par-
meuas Pratt, admitted that she was probably
right on that point. ,

“But that would make little cr no difference
with the men we have to deal with,” he said.

' “ This does not pretend to be a legal proceeding.

and I'pre‘sume the notice was intended only for
outside efl'ect. If Rosalba and his gang mean
to clean us out, they won’t stand on any sort of
ceremony, but willstfike when they can do us
the most damage with the least harni‘vtov‘them-
selves. What are you doing, Mr. Pratt?”

‘ “Just iling up a few more stone's,_slr. "The
smaller t- e garrison, the more protection it Will
need.” ' ‘ ' '
"--' “What! Do
mine?” I- ,

“That iswhat I am here for, Mr. Ho‘rnby."

" But they will come in a crowd, it they come
at all,"and you will soonibe wiped out.” '

agntil then, sir, {gain nomymvw I 

v on are a very’ ve‘man, t ,» one very
stubborn one.“ As you'are‘ "so'determine'd, I'-
.willrsta-y witheiyou. Miss-Rosina! am‘ sorry
 b:  w 
  “ on our orsen =ss‘* ’VBry
" I have retrofit?!“

. m »

you expect to remain at the

, you willihave a Wflde
W W _I! was: ,.-‘:af ‘i  
W more “lo M " " ‘ « 're—
.plied Rosinay “Inwill   a:
nwmI'éPf-c'; ‘, “nix-‘3‘“ J's—‘4 . 1.. new . ‘ i
“What do On meai‘i'flmi'“ , ’
 ',‘ffBimplg’th ‘ as  is "
"here we end‘tfie‘ anaemia youisfe going
figfit‘léSEEimfi'Sfit-EE: strictest“
“ dear oim’ lady" limit I
‘You'sienoflghteig” ‘ Y "i W   
"“'§°‘momre was Yamaha. “his,

 

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‘ ‘   35mm vegan“ no’efleotrghbon.
9", . _ in ii ;.',,.- ..: :3: H'
M ‘1’ ve’knom"me‘lon my mum

‘ ‘flve’learnédjh natives; army
and-'mrwhen I’m - data-mm do a,

thi Iamnotlike ~to , any 
:bngfier’flfl, smileys? so 9913’

earlier and neither of tie ought to
.‘Ime 1%

iv

him- ‘

_ i he is resolvedppon saqn'
'90“? 133"!“ WiY9‘Mr.“ , how are on 01!
topiarmsendammunit‘lbn‘i’ 4 r a. - y-
’ Th

, ere are two breech-loading rifles 
era! twno rovolvers, with if good supplymfica 
‘n‘gfiowfortunate! iian haven good

revolie
ver of m cm, and a hand bag full at carts
ridges. thought that “might get into soulo‘
scrt o ,difllcul and came provided." H - "
'H b shoe hiahaad. s hingand’ wenfipr
Work to el’p Parmenas Prat comglete Ilium-g,
fleation. But hesoongot one he (ti stoned.
"“ That is high enough an ‘ strong ough,"
said he. . “Igor mustn’t strain our muscles at-
Vthesa’stonep, , . _ ,
too nervous toshoqt malt?!“ V g ; . '
He‘ ‘put on his, coat, and sat down’by Rosina.
Twnight was ended, and" the stars ' were

coming gut. , - . ,
“Her, 1’? said Pratt. “ They are comingl’f v
The tramplin of horses was heard at a. little

distance, and than it Seemed that the riders

had halted, and were dismounting.

“Now comes the tug of warl”'said Rosina».

 

“ I suppose so, sir; but I have not yet put that '

1 how‘ many or us there are.

“Those men,have been tampered-with; ' n ‘

lurch. I 'am afraid that we have begun to move «

' that face. and iii-was a revolution to: him.

fill». 

$0,.

tt,mitil wemake ourseler ‘

CHAPTER XX.
NUMBER TWO.

THE approaching party, whoever they were,
could be seen as they made their way toward
the mine. As many as a dozen could be counted,
and there were probably more.

It was a heavy force to be met by two men
and one woman, and Hornby looked sadly at
the forlorn hope.

That they must be “ wiped out ” was far too
evident.

But there was'plent, of determination in the
Dale countenance o Parmenes Pratt, and
Rosina handled her revolver as if she were both
willing and able to use it.

“ They are moving cautiously,” said Pratt.
“ I suppose they know that we are hens, and just
Our rascally miners
have told them.” ’ '
f , The advanein band halted, and a. man stepped
out in front of t em, and hailedz» -

“Hello, the minel”

“ Hello,- yourself!" replied Homby.
are on, and what'do you want here?” .
.‘ “' a 'want that mine. You got the notice
yesterday. Are you read to give it upi’?

“ Who

" l‘t'is our property, a. we give it up to no
Whig”: Nb t; : i i I '

“ on3 ad" 6 Mg vs t up aceabl or you
will ethurt.”" ’- .. pe y’ '

‘i ‘ ‘i -- on maybe murderers, as well as robbers,”
re lied Hornby; “but there isa hereafter for
this sort’of thing.” : .

“ We are not to be scared by talk. Last
"cha‘lkCZ  r Are you going to give it up?”

"  ‘2‘:.’Zi‘x*.r . ~

Thespokesrnan stepped behind a rock, and at
the some moment 'his' companions disappeared
ifrom-vieww ' - ’ A _

Again J acob Hornby looked upon the-forlorn
hope, and sighed audihly. . .

‘I. think you had better take command, Mr.
Pratt," he said. “ I put myself under. your
orders.”  ,

“Very well, ‘sir. I can only advise you to
keep yourself well under cover, and to use your
irifle to th'e'best of ‘ our ability, firing as fast as
you can if they’ll: e a'rush. As for the lady,
if she will/fire oi? her pistol in the air,‘or any
way tomake a noise; it may help to give them
a big idea of our numbers.”

' * ‘tlnd‘eed, sirgltprondly replied Rosina, “ I
3331’], fire at the enemy, and shall take good aim,

As she» spokwshesthrew back her veil and
her face, pale and animated, gave anew aster

to the starlight. . .
' It was the‘fil'ctiflms Jacob-Homily had seen

He
gazedht it with nnlntensit of admiration.
' “"2! am no fighter," he an d; ‘.‘ but 1 mill fight
to the death here—nct for the mine,‘ but for
our}  «11%.? 1:',' I
“ For God’s sake keep under cover, Miss
Wimpl‘m-edizflgtw “‘Ynureoyes are a
W the; d deer’coyush‘d mll‘hnnt.”
'snnledl‘upon'tfiem :hoth,‘ as arme-
a 3m WW‘fihO’h r pen, and the
b lletyrhistled nearluhhehd.’ v t  
I  'a‘s‘gfiian’nplisd tethe’shdt, and the
' ’5‘“ ' Int-re: n; r ' .Jsfl'5‘  "
M mm Menzzunexpe‘ ‘ ctodly cau-
 bonsideidnp the
i-Iiecnf-'told,byéthe absoonding
, »mmnts, though few, were
well armed and g  and wen un-
willi fto rick. then-d tel mlyto gain what

htd ore safe] secured by tienco. -
 an“  safe  ifrom the
"new abel dagw napalm measly us

mu as nuclei-imam. of on mm» were shei-
’iihl0fiom»‘bahhdjocka animus: main-
tained a steady,ht;not It d Are, to which
'flied‘ opponents-made a; line  Jacob
hrs a ‘oidflgmpuwwmmuhhm fired“ i:
' =‘ 2F . on : er
pistol frequently through-i ohi‘nhand at least
v‘ " “mm a iso.‘ ‘

no
fun  against the stone wall. and

o ' the- air as they flew overi
awhile?” smell of burned must;-
add o the excitement at the '

  

were.

-l l , 'Iottmf thing Is not what I had looked
animated Pra '. “Theymust be trying
mm watt!” ' i ‘ ‘

But it, soon became evident that they were
~ to‘dofisomethmz-‘more than that. It
Could mthat those who were firing on the

cum-lower in number than they
bamuudthnt they Were drawing nearer
broantiouslymdvancing from cover to‘cover.
I was reasonable to suppose that they: were
protecting: more secret vanesot their friends
or:ii one flank or both, who had ceased‘firing for
a me. ~ ‘

m Yes, they are stealinfilg to make a dash,”
laid Pratt, as he fired action at a' man
fwhom he saw darting from a. toe to stree.
‘5‘ 0h, thatmdght or Bluchu‘ would camel”:

,“What nonsense is that you are talking,
Pratt!" asked Mrs. Homby. ' '

“I was wishin for an‘ earthquake or the
Green Guard,” rep led Pratt.

“The Green

 

Guard?” exclaimed Rosina. “

' “ 0h! could hope for that l"_

16

Buck Farley, the Bonanga. Prince.

 

The defenders reserved their fire, and watched
for good chances, as it was clear that they were
accomplishing nothing by rapid shooting.

“ You had better have your pistol handy,
Mr. Hornby,” said Pratt. ‘ We may expect a
rush now at any minute, and then may God

he'll? us i”

he firing from the front increased suddenly,
and the party that was advancing there came
forward more swiftly.

“Here they come!” said Hornby.

“Not that way i” exclaimed Pratt. “ Look
to the right or the left! I am afraid that—ah i”

What he would have said was choked of! by
a man who had climbed the wall at the side of
the len, and had fallen over a on him. A
mug and tumble struggle ensue , with Pratt
the under dog in the fight.

Another and another came over the wall, and
still they camel

Hornb emptied his revolver among them,
and reoe ved a shot in the left shoulder which
rendered that arm useless.

Rosina, astonished by the sudden onset, and
dazed by the rapid flring, had scarcely recovo
ered her senses when she was shocke by the
face of aman who lea d over the wall.

It was the face of anuel Vincents.

She hastened to pull down her vail: but his
look of malignant triumph showed that he had
already recognized her.

“ This is my game,” he said, as he stepped to-
ward her.

The words were hardly out of his lips when
Eornby’s fist struck him on the cheek, knocking
him down.

Rosina raised her revolver just in time to see
her defender shot through the heart by a man
who followed Manuel.

The next moment that man fell under the fire
of her isfol.

As 3 e looked around she was startled by a
rattling volley of rifle and pistol-shots, and she
could not tell from what quarter it came.

It was followed by yells of pain and cries of
terror on the part of those who had just cap-
tured Parmenas Pratt’s fortification.

Manuel Vincents, who had. picked himself up,
ran ofl as fast as he could, crouching as he went
and darting from rock to rock.

There was a similar stampede on the part of
his followers.

“I feel as if I would faint,” said Rosina to
herself. “ But that would never do. I must see
the end of this”.

She braced herself against the wall, and saw
a number of dark forms rushing about in pur-
suit of the flying raiders. Directly she saw
that they were clothed in green, and wore
gross: masks. Then a thought flashed upon her
min .

They were the Green Guard, and she was
an ex

This assurance was made sure by the ap‘pear-
ance of Parmenal Pratt, who a roaohe her
with a smile on his face; but h countenance
changed as he looked down and saw the dead
bod of Jacob Hornb .

“ 9 poor, dear, rave man i” said Rosina.
“ Help came a moment too late to save him.”

One of the men in green ate u to her
and touched his hat with a mill ry so ate.

“ I am ver sorry, madam ” that this has oc-
curred," sai he. “ We di not believe that
this attack would be made so soon, or we .would
have been on hand to aid cu."

_ “ I owe you my life, faintly replied Ro-

sma.

“ Bring out this lad ’s horse. Mr. Pratt,” said
the stranger, “ and ta 9 her back to Warneton.
One of my men will ride with you. Excuse
me. madam, for leaving you soabruptly; but
an urgent duty calls me away.”

At a later hour of the same night the rising
moon again saw the Green Guard grouped near
the tree with the outreachingann that stood
at the edge of Death Gulch.

In the midst of the group, with aropo around
his neck, the rope beings also passed over the
outstretehing limb, at a bound and helpless
man, pale and trembling. His face showed that
he was an Irishman.

“ Sure an’ it’s a small thing- to be hangin’ a
man fur, gintlemon,” said he. “ Iverymdy
a’moet is a-jnmpin’ of claims, an' I only soled
uud her ordhcrs.”

.“It is a hanging matter. Mike Rafierty, and
you know it,” rap ied the leader of the Green
Guard. “ it is a hanging matter to rob a stage,
to rob a mine, and to add murder to robbery.
But those are not the only crimes you are here
to account for. "

“ Phwet else have I been doin', been?” in-
quired the Irishmanu

“Look around you Do you know this place?
I see that you do. On this very spoil you and
three other fiends held in your arms a bound
and helpless man, who had done you no wron ,
and throw him into the bottomless pit of Dent
Gulch.”

“It’s a lie!” shrieked the culprit.
did it! You can’t prove it!”

“Your innooent victim called you by name

fore he was thrown over, and warned you
that he would return, living or dead, to bring
you to account for that crime.”

“ I never

 

The Irishman’s face was livid, and his voice
sunk to a whisper as he spoke again:

“ How do you know that? Who are you?”

“I am the man you murdered,” re lied the
leader, as he removed the green mask rom his
face and stepped forward.

The drawmg rope stifled a shriek, and in
another moment Mike Rafierty‘ was hanging
from the limb over Death Gulch.

 

When Perm-nus Pratt called on Rosina the
gext day, she had an important question to ask

1m.

“Who was the leader of the Green Guard,
Mr. Pratt—the man who spoke to me last
night?" ,

“I cannot tell you, Miss Rosina. I did not
see his face.”

“ But he knewfvour name.”

“ I am a sort 0 gublic character, you know.”

“I wish I coul find out who he was, Mr.

Pratt. His voice was so strangely, so wonder-
gull 7like that of a dear friend of mine, who is
on .

“ I am sorry that I cannot inform you, Miss
Rosina. But I have a bit of news for you.
have just heard that the Green Guard ca tured
one prisoner last night, and this morn ng he
was found hanging from a tree near Death
Gulch.”

“ Who was he?” she eagerly asked. “ Manuel
Vincents?"

“ Not Manuel Vincente. He was an Irish-
man, named Mike Raflerty, and on his breast
was pinned a paper, on which were written the
words ‘Number Two.’ "

“ Number Two!" exclaimed Rosina. “ What
does it mean? Wait a moment. Let me think.
Bill Saunders and Mike R'Iflerty. I know those
men, and I have good cause to remember them.
Bill Saunders and Mike Raffertyl .Number
One and Number Twol I wonder who will be
Number Three 1"

CHAPTER XXI.
- STRIKING BACK.

AT the distance of some thirt miles from
Death Gulch was situated the mall Ho
mine, controlled and partly owned by Far ey

Warns.

It had been pressed upon them by an old
prospector named Durkoe, who was a special
riend of John Warne’s. He claimed that he
could rove it to be a. rich lead, if he could get
capita to work it. They had bought an in-
terest, and had named it Small Hopes, because
they had small hopes of its success, retaining
Durkee as manager.

A few miles from the mine was a railroad
station, a small and lonely building, occupied
by one man, who acted as station agent and
telegraph operator.

At an early hour one morning this buildigg
was suddenly entered by three men, mask
and heavily armed, who seized the agent and
bound him. ‘

Then one of the raiders, who seemed to know
very well what he was about, sat down at the
instrument table, and sent oi! a message, the
captive agent being placed too far away to lis-
ten to the ticking]?

This was all. here was no robbery, and no
attempt to injure person or proport .

When the message been son the 0 rs-
torpmtamarosoand examined t e raiway
time table.

“ We will leave
train comes along,
will not be like
turns you loose.

a patient wait."

At the 0600 of Farley dew-me in Death
Gulch only one of the partners was present that
morning, Buck Parley having gone some dis-
tance to the north on business of the firm.

,At the telegraph once in Death Gulch the
o rater was calod by the station near the

mall Hopes mine.

“Marsh must be sick to—dav,” said he, as he
noticed a “hand” to which a was unaccus-
tomed. “ I wonder where he got his sub."

He received the message, wrote it oi! hastily
and put it in an envelope.

“Hero is bad news for Farley & Warns,"
he said, as he handed it to his messenger boy.
“ Hurry over there with it.”

The tale ram was handed to John Warns as
he sat at h a desk, and this is what he read:

“Fauna! a; Wan:-

Well:

“ Small Hopes tunnel has fallen in, and the tim-
bers are burning. Captain Durkoe is badly injured.
Como immediately."

John Warns handed the message to the man-
agin clerk.

“ r. Farley must know of this as soon as
possible, Runnels,” said he. " Write a dispatch,
and send it to the nearest station, with direc-
tions to forward it to Blnfl'ton.”

“ Are you going to Small Hopes sir?"

“ Right away. Poor Durkeel I am not trou-
bled about the mine; but he must be attended
to. I will just have time to catch the train.” '

Ho hurried awn , and Runnels sent off the
dis tch to Buck srley.

0 train had been gone but a little while

on as you are until the next
he sai to the agent. “ You
to safer before somebody
wish you good-morning and

 

when a large man, wearing an overcoat and a
slouched hat. came to the door of the office of
the Death Gulch Mining 00. After lounging
about for a few minutes, be stationed himsLlf
on the door—step.

He was evidently a stranger to the town, and
the porter, who was also the guard, did not like
his looks, and inquired his business.

“I ain't doin’ any harm here, am ll” stifily
replied the stranger.

“Mebbe you ain’t, and mebbe you are; but I
want to know what you’re here for.”

“You needn’t be so uppish about it. I ain’t
likely to steal your durned old buildin’. I’m jest
a-waitin’ fur a man who promised to meet me
here at nine o’clock.”

As this was a legitimate reason for red aining,
and the man could not be driven away merely
because he was a stranger and his lip arance
was unsatisfactory, the porter said nothing more
to him, but kept a suspicious eye upon him.

There was a short and narrow one that ran
down a ravine, and terminated near the office
of the Death Gulch Mining Co.

It was seldom traveled, as there were no houses
in that direction, except a shanty that was oc<
cu led as a saloon.

s the mpriator of the saloon stood at the
end of his thatadjoined the window, mood-
ily eying his one customer, a bummer who was
waitin for a free drink, and occasionally cast-
ing a g ance at the dirt-covered anes, his large
ears caught the unusual sound 0 horses coming
down the lane.

He vigorously rubbed with his fist one of the
dirty panes, until he could dimly see what was
going on down the street, and counted fifteen
horsemen riding slowly down the lane, in mili-
tary order.

As they drew nearer, he saw that they were
all masked.

“ What’s up nowl” he muttered. “ Some
durned galoots oin’ to try to take the town?"

As soon as t ey had passed the saloon they
broke right into a gallop.

The barkeeper ran around his counter, and
looked out at the door.

The bummer waked up enough to mutter,
“Don’t keer ’f I do,” and hen wanted to know
“ Wasser masserf”

The horsemen had halted in front of Farley
& Warne’s stout stone building.

As the horsemen came down the lane they
were out of the view of the porter, but were
plainly seen by‘ the stranger on the step, who
rushed in at t 0 door when they broke into a

gallgp.
“ but do you mean?” demanded the porter.
“ Clear out c this I”

“ l’m skeered. Thar’s a motion o'ut thar."

“ Git out of the way, you durned galoot, and
let ma seel”

But the form of the large stran r blocked
the way and the next moment the fi en horse-
ment halted in front of the door.

Five of them instantly dismounted, throwin
their bridle reins to their companions, an
rushed in at the door, where the porter was
struggling with the stranger.

A ow on the head with the butt of a pistol
ended resistance in that quarter, and the raiders
poured into the office. .

The clerks had run for the weapons in the
racks; but they were too late.

Runnels, who had soined a ride, was settled
by a bullet in his head, and the others, over-
powered by leveled revolvers, were driven into
:bcorner, where two of the raiders guarded

em.

The others hastened to ransack the ofice, and
their leader sought in Runnels’s pocket for the
key of the safe. ‘

Finding it, be compelled one of the clerks who
know the combination to open the safe, and all
the valuables it contained were 3 ily hustled
into bags, and handed out to 0 men in the
street.

His companions in the meantime were pulling
open and breaking open desks and drawers over
the whole once, and similarly stumng into be
all sorts of papers, valuable and valueless, wig
no examination or an sort of inspection.

In short, the sacko the office was com late,
and the havoc that was raised with the uni-
ture made it look as if a tornado had struck it.

Of course such an audacious raid could not be
be a and carried through without raisin con-
sidi‘i-able excitement in the town of th
Gulch. The town was always easily excited,
and this occurrence was calculated to throw it
into a frenzy.

The report spread like wild—fire that raiders
had taken the town and were robbing the office
of the Death Gulch mine, and from all sides
the citizens ran out into the street, some of them
unarmed, and others with whatever weapons
they could lay hands on in their hun'y.

But the ten men whom the raiders had left I I

outside of the office were well armed. and were
posted so as to command the a proaches to
their position. The appearance 0 any person
within range of them was the si nal for rifle
shots which caused all but the ho] est to beat a
hasty retreat.

It became evident that the town was cap-
tured, and that the raid was on too large a

~n—n4An-l

D. :3" r-Jm n.

Pump 1

 

.w-mv,” -..__._—....._.. --~..-...__ _‘r ‘

Buck Farley, the BonanZa Prince.

1?

 

 

scale to be defeated by a small and unorganized
force.

Before leaders could come forward and rally
the citizens to meet the emergency, the raiders

» had finished their work, and were ready to de-
camp.

The men who were in the bank came out, and
all mounted their horses. After firing aparting
volley to scatter the citizens who were gather-
ing in their rear, they dashed away up the lane,
where there were none to dispute their passage.

The stranger who had waited at the office
door mysteriously disa peered.

John VVarne reache the station near the
Small Hopes mine, only to learn that the .mes-
sage he had received was a hoax or something
“‘Ul’n‘F.

He thought that he might as well go on and
visit Captain Durkee, and was about starting
for the mine, when he receiver] a dispatch from
Death Gulch, which caused him to take the
first train back. __ .

At a late hour of the night succeeding the
raid, Pedro Rosalba and his Wife and Manuel
were seated in a room at the ranch, with the
doors locked, and with sentries stationed all
around the house.

The were sorting and examining stacks and
packa es of Elapers, wh1ch they took from
coarse bags. ost of these papers they threw
into the fire. A few were laid aside for preser—
vation.

" This has been a great strike,” said Rosalba,
“and I doubt if we could have hit those inter-
nal Yankees a harder blow. lfancy that the
loss of this pile of papers, to say nothing of the
money the boys get. will cripple them about as
badly as their New Ophir swindle crippled me."

“They will be as mad as hornets,” said Man-
uel. “ It is to be hoped that none of our men
will go back on us.”

;‘ Qh, they are too well paid to want to
'51) i t.

So the work of inspection and destruction went
on. Deeds, leases, contracts, notes, accounts,
all sorts of valuable papers anddocuments, we're
ruthlessly sacrificed, while the destroyers
laughed and chuckled over their vile work.

At last Pedro Rosalba got hold of a docu-
ment that caused him special delight.

“Here it is!” he exclaimed. “ Hero is the
Very deed that the San Francisco man told us
about, from Henry Warren to Buck Farley. It
is just such as he described. Look, chetta.
mid! does that Seem to be the signature of
your dead husband?” '

“I don’t know,’ replied Senora Rosale. “It
is so long since I have seen his signature that I
have forgotten what it was like. But this is of
course a fraud.” '

“ Whatever it is, I have‘ got hold of it now,
and am that much ahead of the game. Shall I
burn it? No, I will keep it, and the time ma
come when I shall be able to expose the swind e
and punish the swindlers.”

 

CHAPTER XXII:
STRIKING AT THE HEAD.

BUCK FARLEY, the Bonanza Prince, at Bluif~
ton on business for Farley & Warns, received
" by a messenger from the nearest telegraph sta-

tion a dispatch from the managin clerk of the
firm, givin him the neWs of the al eged disaster
at the Sma 1 Ho mine. " ' ' _
, "That is had, said be; “but I don’t worr
about the mine, as I had never expected tone
from it. Poor Durkee! it is a pity that his am-
bitious ' hopes should have such an ending.
'Warne has gone to see him, and of course will
do everything that can be done for him. But I
must finish my business here, and get home as
soon as possible.”

Before he was ready to start there came an-
other dispatch, not from the managing clerk,
and with grief and chagrin he read these lines:

“ Flfteen masked men entered town and ca turod
the office this morning. Sacked com letely. oney
and papers all taken. Runnels shot end. Raiders

all rode away unharmed. Warne gone to Small
Hopes.”

No neq’uest to return was added, as that would
have been unnecessary. The news was enough
tocause Buck Farley to hasten to Death Gulch
as rapidly as ble. ,

He at once u uired about the stage. It was
expected short_y. When it arrived he took
his seat in it, with two other passengers.

Along the Blufl’ton stage road a solita

1 traveler was riding at a moderate gait, thong
he was mounted on a fine horse.
' He was quite a young man. and his a face
had a drawn and inched ex ression, ough it
was not at all unp casing to 001: at. His neck
was short. and on his back was a perceptible
hump. He was dressed neatly, carried saddle-
bags, and there were pistols in'his belt. _

As he was riding along. slowly, With his head
drooped, and his mind in a reverie, he was
itartled by the sound of the trampling of

arses.

- Looking up, he saw the road blocked by 
horsemen. -

As it was dusk. and he was short sighted, he

did not at first percdvathat they Were masked; .

. O

 

but he did see the shining barrels of the revol-
vers they leveled at him.

He started to draw a pistol, but was at once
made aware of the uselessuess of resistance.
- “ None of that, youngster!” said a rough and
stern voice. “ We’ve got the drop on you,
dead, and the best thing you can do is to give
in and take things easy."

At the same time some more men rode up and '

surrounded him, and he knew that he was a.
prisoner.

’ He was at once disarmcd; but there seemed
to be no disposition to harm him.

‘ I sup e you want my money," he said,
addressing the man who seemed to be the leader
of the band. “ I will give you all I have, and
then I hope you will let me go on."

“ You are mistaken, young pilgrim,” was the
unexpected reply. “ We don’t want your
money, and we don’t repose to let you go on.
You were on the road) toward Bluifton. Was
that the point you were striking for?”

H XVeS‘ N

“Well, my son, it will soon be too late for
boys of your age to be traveling alone, and we
have reasons for not wanting you to go to Bluff-
ton just now. So you will please come to our
camp, and see the boss of this nice little party,
and make yourself comfortable for a while.”

There was no refusing this polite invitation,
and the youth accompanied his captors through
the timber until they came to a small camp-
fire, around which a few men were seated.

As he drew near enough to see their faces, he
started, as if he recognized them, and a deep
shade of dis leasnre came over his ale features.

Two of t 9 men weFe Pedro
Manuel Vincente.

“ Here is a young pilgrim,” said the leader of
the horsemen, “ who was going toward Bluff;
ton. We obeyed orders, and took him in.”

“Uncle, it is Benito!” exclaimed Manuel,
jum )ing up. ’

“ on are right,” said Rosalba, with an oath.
‘3 Set him down here, Bob, and let us take a
look at him. This is a first—class find that ycu
have made. If such good luck holds through
the night. we will soon be solid.”

Benito Rosalba dismounted of his own accord,
and walked up to the camp-fire.

“I would like to know what right you have
to sto me on the road,” he said. I

“ but right?” replied the Mexican. “ Why
you young scalawag, you are my son, though
don’t pretend to be proud of you. A father has
a. right'to catch and keep his runaway son
wherever he finds him.” _

“ I was going my own way on my own busx-
ness, and was not interfering with you," said
Benito. “ You can gain nothing by catching
me, even ifyou could keep me.”

“ Perhaps I am the best jud e of that. Man-
uel, what ought to be done th this disobedi-
ent §oun§ rascal?” ' .

“’ e eserves hangin ,” replied Manuel;
“but I suppose a. sound t rashing will have'to
serve him. ’

“ I will take him home, and then we will con-
side: the matter and decide is case.” .

“Perhaps you had better not do that, uncle—
not ust now, at least.” . .

“ a will wait until we see how' this business
ends. If we succeed, I shall know better how
to deal with him. Now, Benito, whose name
should be Maldito, can you tell me how our
fine and wealthy patron, your Bonanza Prince,
is etting on?” r

_ That is none of your businem,” coldly re-
phed the youth. .

“Indeed it is my business, very much of my
business; I have made it my business, I can
tell you, since he cheated me out of so many
thousands with his accuraed Ophir swindle.
Well, Maldito, I can tell you something about
him that may be news to 'you, and not ver
pleasant news, either. His office at Deat
Gulch. in that stout stone building, has been
captured.” . i .

‘ Ca turedl” exclaimed Benito, gazing intent-
ly at t a speaker. .

“ Captured by a few bold men. who rode into
town and took possession of it, without asking
leave. I hear that one of the clerks, who tried to
show fight, was shot dead. He should have had
better sense, poor fellow! The safe was re .
and everything of value that the place contain-
ed was taken away. Don’t you suppose that
such a blow will belikely to worry your Bo-
nanza Prince a little?" '

“ Who were the robbers?” asked Benito.
“As you know so much about it, you can tell
me that. I believe that you had a hand in the
outrageous crime. yourself. If you did not
commit it; you planned it.” - 3

“I dont care what you believe. The men
who could do such a dead are not the sort who
are likely to be caught.”

“ Where was Mr. Farley when'his .ofiioe Was
robbed?”

“ Far away at Bluffton.”

“ Where was Mr. Warns?”

“ Whistled oi! to Small Hopes. But they‘will
get their dues, personally and particu rly.

he turn of Farley, that internal swindler,‘w1]1
soon come. We are waiting for him now. He
is coming from Bluflton by the stage. ‘I mean

\

salba and.

him, thenl

 

to catch him, and show him that there is more
than one way to plays. brace game.” ,

“How do you know that he is coming from
Bluflton by the sta 3” eagerly asked Benito.

“ I know that a ispatch was taken to Bluff-
ton to him. telling him of the doings at Death
Gulch, and that will he sure to fetch him by
the first chance. Oh, we have a sure thing,
and we den’t mean to let anybody spoil our
chances. That is why you were picked up, and
here you must stay until the game is played.
Come, now, you ma have some supper with
us, unless you consi er yourself too good for
our compan .” . '

Benito sai that he had no desire to eat.

“Sit down, then, you young porcupine, and
mourn for your Bonanza Prince, who will not
be able to be a patron of yours much longer.”

Pedro Rosalba. and his companions squatted
near the camp-fire. and began to eat the supper
which they had been cooking. Benito seated .
himself at the foot of a tree near them.

“By the way, Maldito," remarked Resalha,
“have you seen or heard anything yet of that
precious step-sister of ours?”

“ No,” curtly repli the youth.

“ So I supposed.‘ You need not trouble your-
self about her. Mauuel and I know where she
is, and we will soon have her in our hands.
You can go to sleep and dream of her if you
want to. There is plenty of time. We do n't
expect the stage to come along much before
midnight.” - ‘

Although Benito was seated away from the
group, he was but a few steps from them.

boy were all armed, and his weapons had
been taken from him. Besides, he was a hunch-
back,\ weakly, and with a poor pair of lrgs,
while they were strong and swift men. They
had him under their eyes, and were sure that
he could not escape, it he should be audacious
enough to make the attempt. "

Benito thought diflerently. The liberty of
Back Farley, if not his life, was at stake, and
he considered his own life of little value, com-
pared with that of his benefactor. ~

Looking about, he saw that his horse, which
had been insecurely fastened‘to a bush, was
loose, and was standing still, with his bridle
han ‘ng down. The other horses were tethered.

atchin his chance, he sprung suddenly to
his feet, an ran toward the case horse, w ich
whinnied as it saw. him comin . .

His unable legs did him goo service. Never
before had they been put to such speed. Before
his captors could guess his urpose. he reached /
the horse, andsprung into t e saddle.

Two pistol-shots were fired at him in rapid-
sucoession, one of them by Manuel Vinceute.

“Holdl” cried Rosalba. “He is a scem'p
but‘he is my son. Don’t shootl Mount, Qd
follow him l” , .

But a few seconds were lost in untetherin
and mounting the horses, and Benito was g -.

Iopiilif «wary. ' , .
‘ e wil get off, and will warn the stage,”
said Manuel. , . ,

“ Curse himl” exclaimed Rosalba. “Shoot
Shoot him down, boys!" . v

Rifles and pistols wereaimed at the youth.
and the, reports rang out rapidly: but it is
big? to hi a flying mark when darkness has
so n. l » ‘

Benito, crouching to his saddle-how, dashed
away through the timber, and his furious cap,
tors followed in pursuit.

CHAPTER XXIII.
A RUNNING “our.

Tun horse Benito rode had plenty of speed
and wind, and he was desperate. His own
peril did not concern him, as his one thought
was that he must stop the stage and turn it
pafk before Melba and his men could over.
a a 1m. » '
‘ He knew the direction 'of the road, and lis
horse knew it, too. He soon reached it, turned
toward Bluflton, and away he went at a break-

 

,neck gallop.

His purpose was quite too plain to his r-
suers when they struck the road. and, a v0 lay
of rifle-shotswas fired after him; but he was
then far enouglh away to mom to laugh at
them, and still a on. ‘

“After himl” shouted Pedro Rosalba. “ Shoot
him down, if you can get near enough! Any-
how, we must hurry on and strike the stage.” '

The question was then on?) of speed and en- ‘
durance. It was evident t
was faster than an of the others, and that his
pursuers could not to ovgrtake him unless '
some accident shoal befall him; but if he ,
should turn back the stage, they might reach it ‘
and attack it long before it could get to Bluff-
ton, and thus accomplish the purpose which had-
been so seriously upset by his escape.

This was not so easv or so safe a plan s that

of lying in wait; but'it was the only one, oft to

them, and they were forced to go on. as infor-
mation of their purpose was preceding them. ’

the horses of the pnrsuers differed in '
quality, they straggled‘ along in an irregular
line, but all at the top of their speed. Manuel
Vincents in the lead. with his pistol in his
hand, ready to fire at Benito if he should come
within shooting distance. '

s

I

at Benito’s horso‘ ‘

 

 

 

1.8

.' Buck‘Farley, the Bonanza,- Prince.

 

Although not a good figure on the ground, l
and a poor runner, Benito was at home on
horseback. He knew that he could trust his
horse, and he hoped to get such a lead as would
enable him to reach the stage and turn it back
in time to prevent it from being overtaken hry
Rosalba’s party. As it was not expected at his
starting point until midnight, there Seemed to
be good ground for this hope. ,

But the Bonanza Prince was in a hurry'to get
back to Death Gulch, and he had promised the
driver good pay for fast time.

, Consequently the stage was several miles fur-
ther from Bluifton than it usually was at that
hour of the night. ‘ .

As Benito was thundering along the road at
a headlong gallop, increasing his distance from
his pursuers, he thought that he heard the rum-
bling of approaching wheels.

He spurred his horse, and ushed forward
until he reached the top of 3. ill, from which
point he could plainly see the lights of the stage
as it toiled u the loo slope.

Ginncing ackwar , he saw nothin of Re.
salha’s party, though he could faintl ear the
rapid footfalls of their horses in the istance.

Again striking spurs into his horse he dashed
down the hill at full speed, waving is arms as
he neared the stage, and calling to the driver to

sto .

The driver halted just before Benito reached
the stage. He was not to be frightened by one
man; but it was Well to stop and see what was
the matter. / ' I

“Is Mr. Farley in the stage?” asked Benito,
almost breathlessly, as he pu led up his panting
and rspiring horse.

“ es. What’s up!” r

“ Turn back at once, then, and drive to Bluff-
ton as fast as you can!”

Buck Farley and the two other passengers
thrust their heads out of the sta e.

“ Is that you, Benito?" aske the Bonanza
Prince, recognizing the voice of the excited
youth. “ What’s the matter?”

‘f You must turn back, sir. Pedro Rosalba
and a dozen men have lotted to waylay the
stage and capture you. boy stopped me, but
I escaped from them, and they are pursuing
me, close on my heels.”

“ All ‘ ht, ’ said Farley. “Turn hack,
driy or! _e will have to run for it. Hurry on
to Bluflton Benito! Wh , lad, are on hurt?”

’ He saw blood on Benito s hand an clothes.

“ Nothing to worry me, sir. Justa graze."

“Ride on to Bluflton. then, and make the
best time you can. Tell the people to turn out
and meet us.”

By this time the stage had been turned around
and it went clatterin d0wn the hill, Benito

' g his horse in a Vance.

Before it reached the bottom of the hill, the
pursuers were at the top, where they halted for
a 'iiimnii: l h tag t, hi

ey 'nysawt e s e asi waspus ng
toward luflton, and caught sight of Benito as
he spurred awa in the distance. ’

The scene ad ed to their fury and increased
the eagerness of their pursuit. '

“This is better than I had hoped for,”aaid

edro Roealba. “ It is many miles to Bluffton.

. Buck Farley! Push on, boys! and we will
soon catch that cursed stage.”
« .The chances were largel in their favor. The
stage had a light load an four horses; butthe
driVer had been making fast time, and the
speed with which they had traveled had told
upon his horses. .,

Rosalba’s men had also been making fast
time. and their horses were more or less wor-
ried; but they were not in harness, and had no
load to drag.

' One party was animated by the desire to es-
cape.'and the other by eagerness to capture,
and so the flight and pursuit went on.

Back Earle ’5 stage companions were two
young and ac ‘ve men. One was Sam Jennings,
a sporting man well know in that region, and
the other introduced himself as Mr. Ross, a
speculator from Denver. Both were well armed
and expressed their willin ass to make the
best fight they could for the pockets and their
persons. The driver carried a breech-loading
rifle under his seat, and Farley had two long-
ra e revolvers, on which be prided himself.

9‘ t will come to a fight, gentlemen, unless
we surrender,” said the Bonanza Prince. “ We
are sure to be overtaken before we can get back
to Elation. I have reason to believe that these
acouudrels are after me, and I doubt if they
‘ would molest either of you. I don’t want you

‘ to put yourselves in danger for my sake."
‘ Don’t you mean to light?" asked Jennings.
, “ Of course I will. There' is nothing else for
me to do.”

“ Then I will stand by you, for one.” ,

“ And I, for another, said Ross.

“Well, gentlemen, we had better prepare to

‘ve them the best we have in the shop, and in
t first place we must make an opening 1n the
back part of this hearse, so that We can get a
fair sight at themfi" ‘

A hole was out in the back of the stage, and
the , gets, looking rearward, could plainly
pa their pursuers speeding after them, except
when an abrupt turn of the road cut off the view.

 

A stern chase is a long chase at sea, but it is
not necessarily so on lund. It depends upon
the speed and enduranco of the chaser and the
chased. In this case the chased had the worst
of it, and were gradually but surely overhauled
by their pursuers, until the latter were near
enough to open fire with their rifles.

To this fire the passengers replied in a similar
manner; but the jolting and rocking of the
stage prevented their airu from being anything
like accurate, and their shots were wild. But
the shots of the men on horseback were almost
equally uncertain.

So the chase continued; but the pursuers
were gradually lessening theirdistance from the
stage, and an occasional bullet struck the
vehicle.

The driver, crouching forward on his seat,
lashed the horses, and encouraged them with
his voice, and they flew over the rocky road at
the top of their speed, like a. runaway team, the
stage rattling and rocking after them, swaying
from side to side, and now and then running
dangerously on two wheels as it whirled around
a bend. ore than once it might have
upset, if the passengers, appreciating their
peril, had not thrown their weight upon the
uppermost side, like “live ballast to wind-
ward.”

This could not last forever. Skillful driving
was needed, in daylight and at a moderate
speed, to pilot the stage over that rough road,
and in the darkness, at a breakneck gait, the
peril was greatly increased. There was danger
at every moment that the vehicle would sink
into a rut, or strike a b0wlder, that would
upset or break it, or that the overpressed horses
would drop in their harness.

The latter contingency was what occurred.

“Can’t hold out much longer, Mr. Farley!”
shouted the driver. “ The bosses is clean
blowed, and the nigh Wheeler’s e’ena’most ready
to drop.” ,

This announcement was what the Bonanza
Prince had been expecting, and he was ready
or it.

“Can you reach Frenchman‘s Gap?" he
asked._

“ I reckon we kin fetch that, sir.”

“Better go a. little easier then, and make a
sure thing of it. Haul up when you come to
the narrowest part of the canyon.”

The driver ceased to lash his horses, and the
passengers doubled the shots from their “ stern
Chasers” while the horsemen reserved their
fire, yelling as they saw how rapidly they were
gaining upon their quarry.

A shot from the stage struck one of the fore—
most riders, and this delayed the pursuit for a
few recious minutes.

“ alf a mile further!” exclaimed Farley,
who knew the route well.

“ Will we be safe then?” asked Mr. Ross.

“No; but we will have a chance to make a
square fight.”

Half a mile further the wearied horses hauled
the Jolting stage, and the high walls of French—
man’s Gap closed in u n them, while their
antagonists, who had 'ghtl breathed their
horses, pressed forward With reeh speed.

Just at the narrowest of the canyon, the
point which Farley he desired to reach, the
hi h wheeler dropped, and the stage came to a

' an den stop.

The driver jumped down from his seat and
cut the traces. sure that the tired animals
would not go far.

In a few minutes the stage, nearly wrecked,
was drawn across the road to serve as a barri-
cade, and the driver and his ngers bestirred
themselves in adding to the advantages of their

tion. _
. They had accom lished but little in this direc.
tion, when their oes came galloping into the
canyon. .

 

CHAPTER XXIV.
A nmw mar MISSED.

“THIS seems to be a one of three to one. or
thereabout,” said Buc Farley, as he looked
down the Gap. ‘ “ It is a very pretty chance for
a scrimmage, as it stands.” .

It was fortunate for the stage gieople that the
horseshad held out as long ast ey did. They
were still at a considerable distance from Bluff-
ton, but had reached a position that gave them
a fair chance to make a good fight. The stage
was a passable barricade; and they improv
every mOment that was spared to them in pilin
stones in front of them and digging a franc
across the road. Their enemies were obliged
to advance right in front of them, as the sleep
sides of the canyon left no chance for a flank
movement. \

Business began at once, but a little more can-
tiously than Farley and his companions might
have ex cted.

Rosal ’5 men dismounted, and moved for-
ward slowly under the darkness, as if careful
of their precious skins. Then one of them
raised his voice from behind a bowlder, and

hailed: /
“ Hello, on folks l" .r . .
~ “ Hello, arse-thief!” replied the clear tenor

of Sam Jennings.
“ You had better be a bit polite, whoever you

 

g

are. We want to giVe you a chance. The man
we’re arter is Buck Farle , and he knows it.
Give him up, you other olks. and you may
slide off without bein’ touched.”

"‘ You may slide off on your ear,” replied Jen-
nings. “ if you want anybody here, come right
along and take him!”

There was a rush in answer to this bold chal-
lenge, followed by a volley of bullets that struck
the stage and rattled among the rocks. Mose
Akers, the driver, had joined the other com-
batants, and Buck Farley, with his two splen-
did revolvers, good for a hundred yards, was
quite v.- ual to three men. Sam Jennings was
a good mot and a cool hand, and Mose Akers
declared that the Denver speculator was “ no
slouch.”

The fire from the stage was so hot and heavy
that the rush was soon stopped, and the raiders
fell back. They had succeeded in locating the
position they were to attack, and some of their
shots had struck uncomfortably near the men
for whom they were intended, as was proved by
more than one graze.

There was a brief lull in the engagement, and
Farley and his friends used every minute of
rest in improving their defenses.

Then the man who had hailed them before
lifted up his voice again, and repeated the offer
he had made:

“ We’ve got the dead wood on lyou folks," he
said, “and can afford to be lih’ra . If you try
to hold out ag’inst us, it‘s sure death.”

“ Go and put your head in a bag,” contemptu-
ously replied Jennings. “We hold four aces,
and can sweep the board.” ‘

The Bonanza Prince spoke, and his voice
sounded far down the gap. ,

“Tell Pedro Rosalba from me that he is run-
ning his head into a. noose a little too fast. He
ought not to hurry up the business. His time
will come soon enough.” ‘ '

Two shots in rapid succession showed that
this little speech had touched Rosalba and
Manuel “on the raw.”

Their men, not so hasty, began to try a differ-
ent style of tactics, advancing along the sides
of the canyon, taking cover wherever they could
find it, and firing occasionally and carefully.

“ They are trying to creep up on us, so that
the can make a sure thing of the next rush,”
sai Farley. “ We must fire at every flash, and
keep our tools full of cartridges. ”

The four men at the stage worked hard, firing
rapidly and constantly; but they did not seri-'
ously impede the slow but sure progress of
those'who were creeping up to them.

After a while Rosalba’s men ceased firing al~
together, and there were no longer any flashes
to betra their whereabouts, or to show how
far they ad. advanced.

The sky had clouded u , and the darkness in
the canyon had come ee r.

But the assailants had oat much recious
time, and it was barely sible that aid might
come from Bluifton, un ess they should strike
quick and hard.

“It is goin to be close work now,” said Far-
ley, after he ad looked in vain for somethinfi
to aim at. “ See that your pistols are we
charged, and have them handy. ,’ ,

The words were scarce] out of his lips when
there came a terrible b inding and deafening
volley, from both sides of the gap, poured right
into the wrecked stage.

The effect was deadly. Sam Jennings was
shot through the head, and the stage-driver was
badly wounded. _ . .

Desperately the Denver speculator seized
.Jennings’s revolver, and stood up with Buck
Farley to meet their foes, who howled as they
rushed forward.

“It is all up with us-now.” said Ross.

“ Perhaps not,” replied Farley. “ I think I
hear a noise up the go .”

At that moment not ing could be heard but.
the rapid exchange of pistol-shots, as the two
remaining passengers breasted the rush, and
man after man went dawn before t eir fire.

But Ross was shot through the , and the
furious raiders were closing in on the one man
who was left, when there was a rush of clatter-
ing hoofe, and the men from Bluflton came gal-
lo‘i‘ing down the gap.

he surviving assailants turned and fled to
their horses, which the reached and mounted
before the new arriv could force their way

ed' through or over the barricade.

Pursuit was made; but there was no chance
for the tired horses of the 13an men to over-
take the f itives.

Buck Far ey then learned that Benito’s horse
had dropped dead in front of the Bluffton hotel,
where a public meeting was in progress, and
that he had mt been able to deliver his mes-
sage before a ,fainied. The best men on the
best horses started immediately, and made the
fastest sible time to the scene of con flict.

. The nanza Prince rode back to Bluflton,
whither the body of Sam Jennings and his two
wounded companions were carried.

When he gassed over that route again he was
accompanie by Benito, and attended by a.
sufficient escort to prevent the possibility of a
successful attack. .

0n reaching Death Gulch they went at once

 

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to the office, where they found John Warne
busily employed in trying to bring order out of
the confusion to whicn the raid had reduced the
afl’airs of the firm.

That night the two partners and Benito had
a consultation in one of the handsomely-fur-
nished up-stairs rooms of the stone building.

“So the Small Hopes dispatch was nothing
but a hoax,” remarked Farley

“ Something more than that,” replied Warne.
“ It was a scheme to drew me away from Death
Gulch.”

“The scoundrels played a sharp game; but
they will huve to pay dearly for their fun. We
need not worry about the funds they took,
though the loss 01' some of the documents may
seriously embarrass us. However we will
Straighten up matters as well as we can. Haye
you formed an opinion concerning the parties
who were responsible for that robbery?"

" I can guess who they \verc,”ireplied the old
gentleman. ‘

" Of course you can. He who was behind the
business must have been a man who had a per—
sonal grudge against us. as mere robbers would
have contented themselves With such plunder
as they could use, without carrying oil! our
papers. He was the same man who led the at-
tack upon me on the Biufftou road, and that
man was Pedro Rosalba."

Benito winced.

“That man, for reasons that he can best un-
derstand,” continued Farley, “ has declared
war against me, and war it is. I am sure to
win, when I choose to play my cards, and jus-
tice must and shall be done. By the way, Be-
nito, how did you succoui in your search for
your sister!” I

John Warne looked up eagerly us this ques-
tion was asked. _

“ I have not found her,” sadly replied the
youth. “No sign, no trace. 1 obeyed your in-
structions. and have not spared your inpney. I
scattered it freely, but with no result.  have
put some sharp and active men on the trail ; but
the difficulty has been that there was no trail—
no clew. She seems to have disappeared as
completely as poor Dorlon did.”

Buck Farley shuddered, and his partnerturned
pale.

“I hope you have not given up the search,”
said the former. '

“Indeed I have not, sir. I thought that I
ought to come back here and report. I have
still one man out, and expect him to meet me
here. _His name is Wesley Ryder, and I con-
Sider him a remarkably good man for the work. ”

“ As I told .you, Benito,” said Farley, “ there
are some things that even money cannot do.
No amount of money would have moved that
stage another foot into Frenchman’s Gap, and
all the money in the world would not have
saved me from Pedro Rosabla’s clutches, if you
had not made such fast time to .Blutrtou, but
your sister shall be found. . I mean to attend to

he search myself. as soon as I can atmi man
up matters here. I must first settle with edro
Rosalba, before he hires some scoundrel to shoot
me down. I am sorry that he is your father
Benito.” '

“He bus been a. strange sort of a. father to
me,” replied the young man. “ He has as much
as disowned me, and lie was willing to kill me
the other night.”

“ He is a bad and dangerous man, my young
friend, and he surely deserves killing.”

CHAPTER XXV.
A GOSPEL SHARP. -

A “RANGER rode up to the Right Bower, a
mixture of tavern and 88100“! but” “many
saloon, on the edge of the new town of Warne-
ton.

He was a tall man of thll’tY’flve 01’ “"3; “at
jn his personal up amnce, well-m0un and
with a pair of blue saddle-bags slung over his
saddle. The most marked Pec‘fliarity 0‘ his
personal appearance was his suit of black! the
coat, being decidedly of a. clerical cut, 5‘” 1°-
breasted, and with a, narrow. straight °° ar‘
A white necktie and a clean-shown face, 51"“
mounted by a. black hat, completed his clerics-1
appearance. and gave him the look of an 3135'
copal pastor on his travels.

The ba‘proom of the Right Bower contained
at that tune several of the roughest characters
that infested quneton or Death Gulch. and
they opened their eyes in amazement as this
clerical stranger, having bitched his horse.
stepped in at the door with his saddle-bags on
his arm- '

N A as”, sharp, by thunder-l” exclaimed
sum" Bx Sam. mgbulflly of the Right Bower.

“1&2” culled, ‘flal the stranger, “to in-
quire the way he  or settlement, or
camp, alight)?” t e or dding appellation of

c . ‘
Ductile.th does he mean?” asked the barkeeper.
“ W 31' smsgeré’VSBId Selina‘l‘lggx Sam, swa -
w an .oom , ouve calle
332% “gm mrgbow yer hand, in... do yod
bow .
oldm?griendyw mildly replied the stranger, it 1
do not understand the nature of your question.
and I am sorry to say that your manner is
. l

 

. ...._...-s.,.. ..__v..., .r ...

Buck Farley, th

 

not distinguished by the highest degree of
politeness.’ ' _ .

“ Oh, bother yer big words! This is the Right
Bower, and We’re all trumps. Got unythin’ to
back the hand!”

“ Really, my friend, I must confess that your
questioning is quite incomprehensible to me.”

“ Quit slingin’ them jaw-breakers and talk
straight. What’s yer bundle? Who are you,
anyhow?”

“ My name is \Vesley Ryder."

“ And you’re a gospel sharp, fur sartin. It's
mighty,seldom we see a spekilator of your
stripe in these diggin’s, ’specially a-slidin’ into
the Right Bowe , and we want to treat you
right. Have u. d 'nk!”

“Pardon inc,” replied the stranger, “ I am
not accustomed to drinking spirituous liquors,
and I prefer to decline your kind invitation.”

“ It don’t make u dit o’ bifference what you
prefer. We all take whisky straight. What’s
yourn?” '

“ In the interest of peace and harmony I will
follow the example that is set before me, and
take some of the some.”

“ Set. ’em up, Eph.”

The roundcrs filled their glasses, and wesley
Ryder urcd out a fair allowance of whisky,
which ie qualified slightly with water, and
swallowed it without a wry face.

“ That’s all right,” said Smallpox Sam.
“Now/stranger, it’s your turn to treat.”

“Excuse me. I am in the habit of teaching
that the practice is a sinful one, and I must con-
form my pruc‘ice to my precepts. If on will
kindly direct me to Death Gulch, I wil go for-
ward." -

“ Not till you give us a. sermon. We hain’t
struck a gospel sharp fur ever solong and we’re
keen fur a dose 0’ docterine. Shoot oi! yer jaw,
and mind you hit center.”

The stranger was visibly annoyed. He laid
his saddle-bags on the counter, and looked
Smallpox Sam straight in the face“ .

“If you mean what you say,” said be, “you
are excessively impertinent.”

“Be keerfu how you talk," remarked the
bully. “I’ve knowed men to be horuswoggled
fur ess’n that. You’ve got to give us a sermon,
or a prayer, or suthin’.”

“I would preach ynur funeral sermon with
the greatest pleasure,” cooll replied Ryder,
“and I don’t know but I mig t be inclined to
furnish the corpse.” . _

The burst of laughter which this retort
aroused made Smallpox Sam furious. He felt
as a boy may feel when a kitten that he has
been torturing turns and claws him.

“ Look-a here, etran er,” he snarled, as he
shook his big list in Ry er 5 face. “ That thar’s
flghtin’ talk. You needn’t pin-tend ign’unce
’cause you know that’s w’ot it is. Jest git right
down on yer knees, and beg my pardon, or I’ll
wige up the floor with yer.” . _v

y‘der eyed his rough antagonist With a. look
of great disgust. .

‘ You are a very unpleasant person,” said be.
“Please remove that paw from the vicinity of
my nose. It doesn’t smell a bit like peaches.”

Smallpox Sam drew back the “ paw ” quickly,
with the evident intention ofnimin a, blow:
but his purpose was anticipated by t e clerical
gentleman, who launched out his right hand so
swiftly and forcibly that the bully of the Right
Bower measured his length on the floor. . .

The stranger seemed to be transformed. With
hi3 fight ban" “"der his coat, his left f tthrust
fOI'WM‘d. am keen eyes gleaming, e looked
around to see if any person felt dis osed to take
up the quarrel on behalf of the fal on bravo.

No 0 e stirred. The bully’s domineering
ways h made him obnoxious to the fre nont-
ers of. the Right Bower, and they were g ad to
see him discomfltcd. Besides, the impression
began t0 Prevail among them that the stranger
was 8- badlcustomer to tackle.”

It was a. minute or so before Smallpox Sam
1' “mend his 3811868- Then he sat up and looked
about as if he was dazed -

sfeing his antagonist. he drew a 'pistol; but
again Ryder was too quick for him, and he was
instantly covered by a cooked revolver.

: Drop €118? dew“ weapon. my unchristian
mend: 0’ a be compelled to do you a. doin-

a e.”
gl'he bully did drop it. ~

“I give in, stronger” be said. “If thar’s
any gospel sharp that aye over you, I don’t
want; to see him. Dumed if I didn’t think light-
ning‘ had struck me, And it seems like I hain’t

of; no friends in this crowd, neither.”

.. Now that peace and harmony are re—estab?
“shod,” 331d Ryder, “I must overcome any
conscientious scruples sufficiently to invite the"
present part to partake of some liquid poison.”

A“ pat-too , and a feeling of admiration for
the clerical strange! “pm-V devek’ped‘ At the
same time it was ev1dent that the credit of the
crowd required that they should get even with
him in some we , and Ben iley. .WhO was the
recognized ca .sharp‘ of. the Right Bower,
pressed his, to join in a little game of draw.”
I “What is that, my friend?” he innocently
asked.  '

“ ‘nly a quid, and gentlemanly kind of a
game, and nice as a Sunday school. ,If you

... -_. ..~- -.¢._ .......-..._. ,

e‘ Bonanza Prince.

 

... .,_....... ... ._. w. v. . .. .- m _,..__.._..- .A........._.. a..- ..

don’t know it, we can teach it to you as easy as,
winkin’.”

. “I trust it is an innocent recreation. Ifso
in the interest of peace and harmouyl will
com ly.with your request.”

Al sat down to the grime. It was to be sup—
posed that the stranger had money, and why ‘
should not a. portion of it pass into their pock-
ets!

Ryder displayed a childlike ignorance of the
game: but he earned rapidly under the able
tuition of his companions, andbegan to develop
a. real interest after he had lost a few stakes.

“ You must bet bigger if you want to win
anythin’,” said Smiley. “ othin’ venture,
iiothiii’ have, is the rule of draw poker.”

The stronger increased his bets, and soon
there was a pretty heavy jack pot on the table,
and it was Ryder’s deal. ,

When the cards were dealt, Smiley o ned
the jack pot, one other “came in.” and yder
completed the group that were to contest the

t

p0 . v

Smiley called for one card, and his comrade
for two and Ryder betrayed a weak hand by
taking three.

Smiley led off with a bet of five dollars,
which the second man raised to ten, and Ryder
to fifteen.

In the next round thirty dollars were added
to the pot, and then Smiley, believing that'the
time had come to spring the trap, plunked down
a lump of fifty dollars. ,

The second man dropped out.

The clerical stranger seemed to be puzzled
and confused, and studied his cards closely,
keeping them out of the sight of those‘ n ho ,
were eager to get a peep at them. «

At last his solemn countenance showed that
he had arrived at a decision. .

“For the sake of the missionary society at-
tached to my pastorate,” said he, “I will see
you fifty dollars—I trust, my friend, that I «in
using the, proper expressions—and go you fifty
dollars better.”

This was an astonisher for Ben Smiley, Who
be an to fear that he had undertaken to shear a
wo f. But it would never do to “ weaken,” and
he proceeded to cover the last named sum by
borrowing from his friends, and “called.”

The stran er showed the traditional four
aces, to wh ch the card sharp of the Right
Bower could only oppose the usual four kings. .

An expression of intense disgust pervaded the
features of the party, as it was evident that ‘ x -
they had been sold out at a cheap rate and on 9 
easy terms, . .

Ryder again invited them to poison them- 1
selves at his expense, and they absorbed their
whisky sadly. I .

“ Yere’s another chicken as feels like roostin’
low,” said Smiley. “ Arter this a gospel sharp
will be the last man I shall want to strike.” '

“ Duriied if I don’t believe he’s the chap that
runs the church of the Holy Poker,” remarked.
the barkeeper. v ‘ - "

“Now, my hospitable friends,” said Ryder,

“as this appears to be an ell his location for
collecting funds for my miss onary society; I
shall not hasten my departure. If the land , n‘l ,
will kindly see that my horse is attended to, l _ i
will take 0. short walk, for the sake of exercise ' *
and meditation.” ‘

The clerical stranger walked away, leaving in
poorer and wiser crowd behind him.

It was a lonely road that he took—one which . H I
led to an abandoned mine—and he had not-gone A ’
more than a mile from the Right Bower. when
he met three men on horseback. ‘ _ ,

“This is the biggest kind of luck—here's a. ,
preacher,” said one o the three, when they were
within hearing distance. -
dismounted when they reached Ryder,

 

s 

The
probany out of respect for his clerical 8 ar- \ ' ‘ ,
gage, and the man who had spoken rawhis " 

a . ,

He was a. well-dressed young man: but. his . 
low brows. dark features, and forbidding cast .
of countenance were not at all attractive. 

“I am very glad to have met you, sir,” said 
be. “I unlocking for a. clergyman taper-
form a mornagleoceremony. The place is but a
short distance in here,-and you will be well
paid for your trouble." w x 1

“Imust ask on to excuse me,” politely re- ' “'
plied B der, w 0 was a little disconceried by '
this app ication. “Iain travelin for pleasure, ‘ ~ ' in
and l never perform any official uties outside
ofm own sh." v

“ ut this is a matter of necessity, sir, and I " -
am in a hurry. really cannot excuse you.” , v:

“ Then I shall be obliged to excuse myself, as ‘
I prefer not to comply with your request."

“ I should be very sorry‘to use‘ force with a _
clergyman; but I shall be compelled to do 30, j
unless you Will be more accommodating, and go
with us willingly.” '_

The s aker showed a revolver, and his twp .‘
com 11 one imitated his exam le. " 

esley Ryder appreciated t 6 force of these 
arguments, and the matter did not seem to be \ f
of sufficient importance to require bin; to com- ‘, i 
bat them. Besides, the nigency of this a 11- ,l
cation argued that there must be sometl: mg: . ‘
strange and unusual behind it, and ‘hi- dig
position add proclivities prompted him to find . 

 

 

x

 

  

 

 

Buckr'Farley, the/Bonanza. Prince.

 

 

‘Out what it was. It was more than possible
that he might strike something of interest in
the line of his profession.

“ Will you kindly favor me with your name?”
he asked. .

“My name is Manuel Vincente.” replied the
man who had conducted the negotiation.

Wesley Ryder had reasons of his own for
wishing to know all he could learn about Man-
uel Vincents, and here was that individual

, thrown at his head, as it were.

“ There will be no occasion to use any force,"
be said. “ I did no; suppose the affair wasso
urgent.”

 

CHAPTER XXVI.
srmKING AT THE HEART.
JACOB HOENBY was dead and buried; but he
was not forgotten. Rosina cherished his mem-
ory as that of a dear and faithful friend. He

had not only proved his friendship by dying in /

the defense 0 their joint pro arty; but his will
had made her the heiress of t is greater part of
his sessions, which were a fair little fortune
in emselves.

Mrs. Outram mourned his loss sincerely. She
had hoped that in time ‘ ‘ her Rose " would con-

, sent to marry that friendly and well-balanced
' man of business.

The Little Ruby mine, under the superim

tendence of Parmenas Pratt, with the super-
. vision of Rosina, began to “ pan out” satisfac-
torily, and its promise was excellent.

Rosina, whose active temperament would not
allow hertoremain cooped up in the Lincoln
House, frequently rode out to the mine with
Pratt, to inspect the ore as it was brought out,
and to watch the work.

One evening, when they were returning from
the mine together, rejoicing over the growing
richness of its product. Rosina became more
thoughtful as they approached a little clump of
trees, near the mouth of a narrow glen that
opened out from the hills.

“I have often thought,” she said, “what a.

’ capital lace that would be for an ambush for a.
party 0 highwaymen, if they cared to capture
us '

“I have thought of that, too,” replied Pratt;
“ but we have often passed that place, and no
person has shown a disposition to molest us.”
“ The pitcher that goes often to the well, Mr.
Pratt—” ‘
Was broken before she could finish the sen-
tence.
Five men sprung out from a clump of trees——
u a heavy force to he arrayed against one man
'and a woman—and surrounded and seized them
‘ , before they could resist.
These five men were well armed, and all were

maskedpand the operation was conducted in a _.
style which showed that they were accustomed’

to the busines. .

“What does this mean?” demanded Rosina.
“What do you want?”

“ We want you, my lady,” replied one who
evidently tried to disguise his voice as well as
this face. “,As there are two of you, we must
take both.” .

“That is nonsense,” said Rosina. speaking
more calmly than she felt. “ We will give you

our money and all the valuables we have about '

us, and yen will let us go on.”

“Not much, miss. You are mistaken in'the
‘men. That is not what we are after. We have
some particular business with you, and all.
you’ve got to do is to go right along with us.”

‘Parmenas Pratt, whose hands had been tied
behind his back. looked piteously at Rosina,
whose face was impenetrable behind her vail.
Whatever she felt. she, was not the sort of'
young woman who would “ weaken,” except at
the last extremity. . '

“ Lead on, then," said she. “ When ou‘have
run our necks into\a noose you use not say

\ that. did not warn you."

They did lead on, the horse of each of the

captives being led by one of the masked men,
I and the others walking at the flanks and rear,

as if to prevent the possibility of escape.

‘ They went up the glen to the top, of the

divide, and then down between two spurs of

bills to an old road, up which they turned, and

soon reached the mouth of an abandoned

chine.
“Why, this is the New Ophir," said Pratt,
, wishing to convay that information toRosina,
. , though it might not be of any value.
. , id“ old your jaw!” exclaimed the man at his
5 P

The younglady naturally thought of her ex-
fierience with that speculation, and of how’ she

- ad b ~en saved from disaster by the liberality
‘_ of Buck Farley. She also naturally thought of
lI’edro Rosalba, who had lost so heavily, and
who then claimed tobe‘ the owner of the mine.

‘ With ~these thoughts the disguised voice of the
leader of her captors was connected, and it was

natural that she should fear that she was being.

led into a serious difficulty.

The two prisoners were dismounted and taken

in at the mouth of the mine, which slanted

dovvuward, following mislead that had Out-

cropped in the side of the hill. , v ‘ '
one of the men took a lantern from a hole in

I

 

down the dang) and slippery incline, until they
reached asubterranean chamber of considera-
ble size, from which the former mans ers of the
mine had tunneled in different directions, with
the hope of striking a new lead in place of the
exhausted one, or with the intention of deceiv-
in investors.

ere a ,bright fire was burning, and three
men were seated near it. .

One of them arose as the party came in.

“ Have you got her .6” he excitedly exclaimed.
“Are you sure you are right?”

“ I have no doubt of that, uncle,” replied the
leader of the party. “But you shall see for
yourself.”

His voice, which was no longer disguised,
was that of Manuel Vincents, and the other
voice was Pedro Rosalba’s.

Rosina shuddered us she heard them.

“Now, young lady,” said Manuel, “we will
putI ’an end to your mystery by raising this
Val .

She put out her hand to prevent him; but he
was too quick for her, and her indignant face
and flashing eyes were fully exposed in the
light of the fire. .

“ So it is real] you, Rose Warren," said
Pedro Rosalba. ‘You have been a long time
isway, and I am glad that you have returned at
ast.

" I would never willingly have come within
sight or hearing of you,” she indignantly re-
plied, “ and you will yet suffer for our brutal-
ity in brin mg me to this place. on have no
right or an hority over me, and I advise you, if
you value your own safety, to let me go.”

“'I have heard pullets try to crow before
now, young woman, and I have always laughed
at them. 1' I remember rightly, you are not
yet fully of age. Conscquentl your mother
is your natural guardian, and am her repre~
sentative. I hope you understand that.”

" I understand that you have some evil
scheme of your own to serve by getting me
into your power, but I warn you that it will
not succeed. If it depends in any particular
upon my will, I shall refuse and defy you.”

“ We will see about that. You may as well
calm yourself down.”

“But I hope, sir, that tyou have nothing to
gain by keeping this gen eman a prisoner, and
that he may go free.” _

“Do you take us tobe such fools as to let
him run out and spread the news? Not until
we have settled your case, anyhow. Besides, I
have good cause to remember him, and am
pretty strongly inclined to give him good cause
to remember me. ” ,

It was plain, that the chances of esca e for
the two prisoners might be represente by a
very small figure, and that .there was nothing
for them to do but settle down to a tient en-
durance of their fate; but Rose arren was
anxious to know the worst, to be informed of
the extent of her step-father’s intentions.

“I hope, Senor Rosalba,” said she, “ that on
will not object to telling me why you have ad
me brought here. What is it that you‘want of

me?” ;

“You shall have it straight,” he replied.
“Your mother and I have long been anxious
that you should make a respectable and proper
marriage, and we had picked out the right sort
of a husband for you, when you got entangled
with a roving Yankee.”

R“Wbom you basely murdered !” broke in
ose.

His face was livid with anger, if not with
another emotion.

“You had batter be careful what you say,
girl. There” is a limit to my patience. The bus-
band we had picked out for you was your
cousin, Manue Vincente, who still loves you
dearly, and a strong point in hisofavor is that
he is not a You .”

Rose’s lip curled scornfully.

“ But on ran away like a wild heifer," con-
tinued osalba, “ and in course of time this
good Manuel went to search for you, following
your sill stepbrother.” \

R “ Did nito leave the ranch?" eagerly asked
use. '

“ Yes; I have got rid of that nuisance. The

young fool went to look for you I saggy.”

“But I found you, when the unc ck had
failed," said Manuel. “I was sure that I had
found you, cousin Rose, when I surprised you
in San Francisco, than? you slipped away
from me so shrewdly. on ought to reward
my devotion.” . r >

“You are no cousin of mine!” passionately
exclaimed Rose. “You can claim no kinship
with me, and I despise and detest you!”

“But you shall marry him, all the same,”
said Rosalba. “There'are to be no more airs.
amino-more high-steppin ways. You shall
marry Manuel Vincents, an it is for that pur-
Ipose that you have been brou ht here.”

" “Now understand you lly,” said Rose,
“and now I know what I must meet: I will
nexer marry him, and you, can never force me

.“We will see about that, my rl'. To:
morrow you will sing another song. hen ou
shall be married to suit me. ‘W‘hether you on-

the rock, turned up the light, and led the way sent 'or not, there shall be a good enough mar~

 

riage to suit my purposes. Now, Manuel, I will
ride to the ranch and inform the senora of our
s lendid success. In the morning I will send

adre Sarza to you, with exact instructions as
to what he is to do. Be sure that you keep a.
good watch, and don’t fail to tie that show
fellow securely.”

Pedro Rosalba went away, and Rose felt re-
lieved by his absence and by the knowledge of
fihe respite that had necessarily been allowed

er.

 

CHAPTER XXVlI.
A CASE OF FITS.

AFTER the departure of Pedro Rosalbn, Mau-
uel and his companions, who were well supplied
with provisions, prepared their supper, and
invited the prisoners to partake.

Rose Warren and Parmenas Pratt did not
allow their appetites to be affected by their sit-
uation, and duly fortified themselves with the
food that was set before them. They also slept
as well as their hard couches would permit
them to, though his bound limbs made every
position uncomfortable to the ex-showman.

In the morning Manuel waited vainly for
Peddro Rosalba an the priest he had promised to
sen . ,

Neither of them put in an appearance. -In

' their place came a messenger from Rosalba with

the information that Padre Sarza was absent,
having been suddenly called away to a distant
camp. Rosalba sent word that he would en-
deavor to find a person to take the place of the
absent priest, and would bring him to the old
mine as soon as possible.

.Manuel cursed his luck, and Rose thanked
God thatthe time of her trial had been again
put off.

The morning hours passed slowly, and neither
Pedro Rosalba nor any other person put in an
ap arance.

anuel, who had all along been impatient,
began to grow furiously angry. He made no
attempt to confine his wrath, but let it flow
forth freely in conversation with his com-
panions.

“ Uncle Pedro is a coward,” he said. “ He is
willing that we should all run our necks into a
noose, but is afraid to show up when there is the
least chance of danger to himself.”

The others were decidedly of the same
opinion, and the impression seemed to prevail
that the Mexican was shamefully leaving them
in the lurch.

This impression was naturally pleasing to
the prisoners, as every respite increaSed the
chances that something might turn up in their
favor. ‘ -

At last Manuel was so far overcome by his

impatience that he decided to do something,

So he took two' of the band, and sallied out, as
he said, to do a little foraging on his own book.

He did not happen to know that at that time
Pedro Rosalba was a prisoner in his own house,
where a cloae search was being made without
the formality of a. search warrant, and that
enough was found to connect him with the
robbery of the ofilce of the Death Gulch Mining
Company.

Within half an hour Manuel and his two com-
panions returned in high glee, bringing with
them a man who had the appearance of a
cler man. ' ’

“ e’re all right now,” exclaimed Manuel, as
he led this gentleman down to the large
chamber that was lighted by afire: “I can
give uncle Pedro points, and beat him eve
time. Here’s a preacher, and now we w'
finish up the business right away.”

Rose directed an a pooling g once at the al-
1 ed preacher, on he answered her with a
slight twitch of his upper lip and a faint wink
of his left eye. He had the look of a gentle-

r man, and she could not sappose that he would

willing] lend himself the baseudesigns of
Manuel incente.

“ This is the la'dvv, person,” said Manuel.

“ My ame is es ey Ryder,” remarked that
individua . -

“Very well, Mr. Ryder. She and I are the
Ones that are to be married, apd the sooner the
job is done, the better.”

“I desire to say to on. sir,’.’ said Rose, ad-
dressing herself to yder, and pointing at
Manuel, " that I do not Wish to marry that
person, and l’do not mean to marry him. I am
well aware, too, that if any ceremony of mar-
riage should be performed against my consent,
it would be a sham, and void in law."

“ There seems to be an obstacle here,” Quietly
remarked Ryder.

“It is no obstacle at all,” replied Manuel.
“ All you’ve got to do is to go ahead.”

“But Ifeel itto be my duty to say that I
agree with the young lady’s view of the law."

‘5 [don’t care a cuss for the law. And this is
no place or time for any high-flown ideas of
duty, either.
marry us, and I will look after the consequen-
ces. ..

“ As a matter of right and consistency, Mr‘.
Vincente—” '

“. Don’t give me any talk about right and con- ,

sistencyl I am not in the humor for any foo‘-
ing. Here is a good sum in gold for you as

I

Just you go r‘ght ahead and-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.‘- . ..._..-__.,.... _  ..

, .

soon as you finish the ceremony, or a bullet for
you if you refuse to do the job, and you may
take your choice.”

“ There seems to be no choice for me in that,
and I suppose I must go on. Have the kindness
to stand up with the lady. Your name, I be-
lieve. is Manuel Vincente. What is her name?"

“ Rose Warren."

Rose was astonished, not at the brutality of
her cousin-indaw, but at the weakness and lack
of nerve of the alleged clergyman.

“Do you really mean to say, sir,” she began,
“ that you, a minister of the gospel—”

But a reat change had come over Ryder—a
Iclhange t at riveted the gaze of all present upon

1m.

His body swayed as he stood there, and he
reeled like a drunken man, his arms extended,
and his hands grasping at the air.

His face turned ashy pale, and its muscles
contracted until the contortions were hideous.
His lips were blue, he was foaming at the
mouth, and his eyeballs rolled wildly in their
sockets. .

“ He’s got a fit!” exclaimed one of the men.

This man and another one ran to his assist-
ance; but, before the could reach him, he fell
heavily upon the bar floor of the mine.

Rose shrieked as she thought that he was
about to fall into the fire; but that danger was
avoided, and he dropped near it. There he lay
in a heap, seemingly without sense or the power
of motion.

“ This is the cussedest luck of all,” said
Manuel. “Just when ever hing was ready.
Do on understand fits, Jim rady? What can
we do for him?”

“ Jest nothin’ at all but wait till he comes out
of it,” replied Brady.

“ How long will that take?"

“Can’t say fur sartin. l’ve knowod some of
’em to be laid out for hours on a stretch.”

“ Thunderation! Do all you can for him Jim.
It is of the greatest importance that he should
be brought to his senses as soon as possible."

There was a guizzical look on Parmenas
Pratt's face, as if he fancied himself to . be
“death on fits," but it was not his one to afford
any aid to the enemy, and it was evident that
the blow that struck down Wesley Ryder had
given relief to Rose Warren.

Jim Brady did all he could do; but he was
not a fit doctor, and the stricken man still lay
on the rocky floor, stretched out as if in death,
but giving evidence of existence by his stertors
ous breathing and the occasional twitching of
his limbs. _

“ This is too infernal bad!” exclaimed Manuel
Vincents, with an oath. “ Strange that the
cussed idiot couldn’t find any time but this to
take a fit. Something is always happening to
upset my plans. I wonder what has become of
uncle Pedro. He ought to have been here long
ago with a priest or somebody. If he leaves me
in thegurch I will know how to make him suffer
for it.

Pedro Rosalba still failed to ut in ana ar-
ance, and Wesley Ryder still ay insensi 9 9n
the rocky floor, and Manuel’s wrath kept in-
cmasing until it rose to a white heat. .

“I mean to have reven e upon somebody,”
he said at last. “Here, oreno, you and two
others take that show fellow outside and attend
to him.” ' F
“ What is it that we are to do?” asked

reno.
“ Do what Senor Rosalba. told you to do.

' You don’t mean to say that you have forgotten

that r When you have settled his case come
back and report."

“ What do you mean to do?” asked Rose, as
two men laid bands on Parmenas Pratt. “I
hope you are not going to harm that gentleman
merely because he is a friend of mine. What
wrong has be ever done you?"

“Plenty of wrong,” replied Manuel. “It was
he who persuaded my uncle and aunt to go to
see his cursed show, and then he put up some
lying pictures that were meant to drive them
craz . I don’t know who backed him in that;
but e was responsible for it, and uncle Pedro
hates him and we mean to get even with him,
if with nobody else.” ,

The three men dragged Pratt away, and Rose
sat down and wept.

Half an hour passed, and the man in a fit
opened his eyes, set up, and looked wildly

around. ,

“ Where am ll” be asked. “ What does this
mean? What has happened?" .

‘-‘ You have had a fit and have been laid out
here for ever. so long,’ replied Manuel, hasten-
ing to his side.

“Yes,.I sup so. I am Subject to fits.

Excitement is apt to bring them on.” ' .
“You shouldn’t get excited, then, especme

- when there is important business to/attend to.

How do you feelnow? Are you ready to go on

with that ceremony 8" -

“Not yet. There is something the matter

with, my head, and I am very wealth Let me
, .

R. der dropped back on the floor of the mine v

n, and fel into a. state of seeming. insen-
,sibility.‘ -

V “This is too «arsed had,” said Manuel. “I

 

._,.p L Q“...

'. "“Biiék‘Fsirley','thel‘Bondnz‘d’Prince.

would like to know how long it is going to last.
Give him some whisky, Jim, and tryto bring
him to time.”

Jim Brady put his flask to R der’s 1i 5, and
filed to force some liquor into is mou h; but
the effort was a failure. ‘

“ You’ll have to let him lie thar till he 'ts
over it,” said Brady. “Thar ain’t anyt in‘
else to do that I know of.”

Manuel paced the dark chamber impatiently,
muttealing to himself, and occasionally ejecting
an on .

Rose Warren remained seated, with her
hands clasped, and the ex ression of her face
showed that she was won ering. Wondering
at the providential occurrences that had given
her respite after respite, and wondering what
doom was intended for her faithful friend, Par-
menas Pratt.

So the time passed, slowly but surely. Night

settled down u n the outside world, ut there
was no change in the interior of the abandoned
mine.
‘ Manuel Vincents came to the fire, and gazed
gloomily into the failing embers. Some of
his comrades were snoring, and others were
nodding. r

“I can’t stand this any longer,” be said.
“Something must be done. Where are Moreno
and those two men? They ought to have come
back long ago. , They have had plenty of time
to settle that fellow’s case."

“ It is settled I" ‘

Flame and smoke flashed up from the fire, as
if unpowder had been thrown upon it.

anuel started back, and saw Parmenas
Pratt standing before him, with a cocked re-
volver in his hand.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
NUMBER THREE ,

THE astonishment of Manual Vincente was
complete, and he stared open-eyed at the man
before him.

“ Who are you?” he exclaimed, with an oath.
“ How did you get here? What does this mean?”

“ It means,” calmly replied Pratt, “ that the
game is played out, and that tyou have lost.”

The voice was not that o a ghost, and the
cocked revolver could not be mistaken for an -
thing unearthly. It was unquestionably t e
exshowman who had appeared there somys-
teriously; but he was only one man, and there
were large odds against him.

“Hi! you fellows!” roared Manuel. “Wake
up, and look alive 1”

A hand was laid heavily on his shoulder. He
turned, and found himself face to face with
Wesley R der, who rasped.the collar of his
coat firm y with his eft hand, while with his
right be pressed the muzzle of a pistol against
his forehead. _ '

“If you utter another word,” said the cler-
ical gentleman, “ or if either of those men lifts
a finger off goes the top of our head!” ,

The exican’s comrades, horoughly arouSed,
had started up at the sound of his voice; but
they fell back before the sight that presented
itself to their gaze.

Besides Pratt and Ryder, they were faced by
ten men who had arisen as if from the rock.

Each of these ten men was clothed in green
and each wore a green mask, and nothin could
be clearer than the fact that they ha ‘f the
dropr” on their antagonists r

v“ be Green Guard, thank God i” exclaimed
Rose, who had as a matter of habit dropped her
vail some time before, but could easily see
what sort of succor had' arrived so op rtunely.

Manuel Vincente, dugd and speec less, was
quickly bound, and his comrades were dis-
armed and uarded.

“Now, r. Pratt,” said the leader of the
Green Guard, “ you will take this lady back to
Warneton as soon as sible. You will find
horses outside. If this gentleman,”——bowin
to Ryder—“ will accompany you, you wr!
have a suflcient escort.” v

“ Perhaps a. word of explanation,” suggested
B der—

¥‘ Pardon me, sir, but nothing of the kind, is
needed. Please go at once; as we have some
business with these men that does not admit of
dela .

Payi'menas Pratt gave his arm to Rose. and
lfidéaer up the dark ascent, followed by 'Wesley

y er. I

An hour after the event last recorded ten
members of the Green Guard were grouped
near the edge of Death Gulch, close to the
hungmun’l tree that stretched an ominous arm
out over the fearful chasm.

* Again the moon shone upon them, and a in
one man stood in the midst of the gran of nrk
forms, bound, and with a rope around is neck.

This time the victim was Manuel Vincent's.

H's ’was no 1lgnger corsfldent audacious, or in
an de reeso - .

fiis ldness had wilted like a frosted leaf,
and his manhood .had shrunk like a wind-bag
that is punctured. ,

He was standing face to face with death, and
he knew it. .

He showed that knowledge in his pale face,

 

his quivering lips, his tumbling limbs, and the !

 

"21

broken and abject tones in which he pleaded folI

“ or God’s sake, don’t hang me!" he begged.
“What have I done to deserve such a death?
How have I ever harmed any of you? I have
committed no crime.”

“You lie, Manuel Vincentel”. rung out the
clear tones of the leader of the Green Guard.

“ It is easy to tell me that I lie; but how are
you going to prove it? You can’t prove any"
thing against me. except the little game that I
was caught at, and that hurt nobody.”

The nephew of Pedro Rosalba had never
looked ugher or more despicable than at that .
moment. '

“You lie, Manuel Vincentel” repeated the
leader of the Green Guard. “You are guilty
of robbery and murder. You helped to rob the ,
oflce of the Death Gulch Mining Company.
If you did not hel in the act. you helped .to
plan the crime. on helped to wa lay the
stage on the Blnifton roa , when be ter men
than you were shot down and murdered. You
are guilty of a foul murder that wa committed
on t 9 var spot where on now stand.”

“ It is a ie!" howled nuel. ‘

“Look around you. Do 1you know this placa.
I see that you know it we] . Right here, in the
darkness of night, four men held in their hands
one man, bound and helpless, and flung him to ,
his death into that fearful abyss."

“ That is none of my business. I know noth—
ing about that.”

‘You, lie again, Manuel Vincents. v Two of,
the men who were guilty of that cowarle crime .
have swung from that tree, and you are Number
Three!”

The Mexican writhed and twisted in a vain
eflort to free himself from his bonds, and would
have sunk upon the ground if he had not been
held up by two men. s -

“ It ran false charge,” he said, moaning rather
Iii-3’11 speaking. “ How are you going to prove
, I, , ..

“ By the man you threw into the Gulch. and
I am that man I” said the leader of the Green
Guard, as he pulled off his mask, and stepped
up to the doomed prisoner.

Manuel Vincents shrieked as the rope
ti htened around his neck.

he next moment he was swinging over the
dark abyss from the solitary tree, and on his .
breast there was a paper With the inscription
“ Number Three ”

The men in gr on silently rode away from the
fatal spot, and left him hanging there alone.

 

When Rose Warren emerged from the aban— -
doned mine into the outer air, Parmenas Pratt
felt her hand tremble as it rested on his arm.

“ Are you cold?” he asked. .

“Not at all.”

“ But you seemed toshiver. I am afraid that
the scenes you have passed through to day have
been too trying for your nerves.” ‘

“ My nerves never wor
for. what we have passed t rough, all‘s well that.
ends well, and we are safely out of that scrape.
That is not what agitates me. It is a; voice.

home—the leader of the Green Guard? He »»

me, Mr. Pratt. As” '

_ Who is the man who directed you to take me, .

\

a

fing’ws you, and you must know him. Who‘is‘ ‘ '
e .

“That is hardly a fair question,"- lied
Pratt. “ 1t mustbe clear to you that the reel!
Guard is a secret organization, like the bands
that are called regulators in some partsof the .
country, and vigilantes in others; but this
appears to me to be more of a rivets afl'air.. It
is ‘ble that its members, n punishing the ~
Emmy? may make themselVes liable to the law. '

ere
it would not be proper for me to tell the name
of their leader,i Ishould know it.” . ~, ,

“That is, well argued. air but the argument;
does not satisfy me. The eader is the name
gm: who came to ourreecue when the, Little "

nu
emp oyed you to make those Death Gulch pic—
tures at your exhibitionf” r .

“Beg pardon, Miss Rosina; but ou are anp~
posing that I was employed to do t at.” ~ . -

“ Of course I am.

They had been so absorbed
tion as they rode along, that they had ‘forgotten

ore, as you see, they are disguised, and x,

was attacked. lshe the same man who

Can vou deny it?” ' . ‘, ~
in this conversa-' ‘ '

g.

the presence of Wesle Ryder, who was follow- ' ‘ '

ing them closely.
so hardly pressed. he sought to change the sub-
ject. by calling Rose’s attention to their com-
panion. / ‘
“ Where is our clergyman?” he asked.
are leavin him out in the cold.” , - , 7
“ I am e one at hand,” replied that gentleman.

“,and I have a word to say. I wish to remove " ‘

hen Pratt found himself C ' 

“we I, '

‘v.

“"0 Wrong impressions from the mind of this, '5'

Igamut; lady. I am not a clergyman, and I never
d a fit in my life.” . , .
“Indeed!” exclaimed Rose. " ‘~
“ Exactly so. In spite of my solemn a r_-
"109, I am not even a member of any c
While I was takingia walk I was ca tured by
those scoundrols. erbaps they woul not have
taken me so easily, if they had not excited my
curgosity. I wanted to find ouswhat was going
on. '
“ And you did find out." 4, '

rob.‘ v
.

 

 

L Ryder,” said Rose.

» derful, and nothing is impossible.

22

Buck Farleyrthe 'BonanzaiPrinceJ

 

 

“I did, indeed, and it was highly interesting
. to me. When the crisis came I took a fit for

the [purpose of gaining time, as I wanted to

thin the matter over and prepare a planto get
you out of their clutches.”

' “Your fit was a great relief to me, Mr. Ryder,

and I am deeply grateful to you.”

.“ Oh, it was little that I did, and that sort of
thing is in business. At least, it is in my line.
Perhaps might have done something, if I had
not received such unexpected aid. Now I would
like to know, if this gentleman can tell me,

' where that aid came from, and how he happen~
ed toturn up there."

“ You haVe heard us speak of the Green
Guard,” said Pratt. “The were out on busi-
ness, and were searching or this lady. Her
aunt, Mrs. Outram, had become alarmed by her
absence, and sent word to Death Gulch, to an
influential person there. That caused the Green
Guard to turn out. In the course of their
search the met a man who had followed you
from the i ht Bower for the purpose, as I
guess, of ma ing a raid on your pockets. He

d witnessed your capture, and told them all
about it. Then they went on, and happened to

.fall in with me.”

“ How was that?” asked Ryder. “How did
you et clear of those men who took you out?”

“ hadn’t got clear of them at all. They had
taken me out and tied me to a tree. I can’t be

- sure whether they meant to kill me or not; but
they had half stripped me, and had cut some

v sticks that made me shiver when I looked at
them. However. the Green Guard came along
and put astop to that game, and I was gla
enough to pilot them to the old mine. As Vin-
cente 3 men had let their fire go down, and were
keeping no sort of a guard, it was easy enough
for ,us to steal in unobserved, and there we
were.”

“ And here we are now,” said Rose, “and we
are thankful that we are here, and I hope to be
able to prove my gratitude to both of you.”

At the edge of Warneton Wesley Ryder took

‘leave of his two companions.

“ You are safe now, and I will bid you good-
‘ night,” he said.

“ i would be glad, to see more of you, Mr.
“You will find me at the
Lincoln House in Warneton.” '

“ You will be sure to hear from me, Miss
Warren, and will probably see me soon.”

)59 was most warmly welcomed by Mrs.
Outrum, who shed tears of joy, and declared
that she could never, never trust her out of her
auntie’s sight again.

“ But this is the last of my scrapes, auntie
gear; said Rose. “ I will be safe enough after

15. ‘

" How can you say that, Rose? You cannot
possibly be sure that you are safe.”

But she felt sure of it the next morning, when
Pannenas Pratt informed her that another
man had been found hanging from the solitary
tree at the ed of Death Gulch;_that the man
was Manuel inceute, and that on hls breast
was a paper with the inscription “ Number
Three.”

“ Number Three!” exclaimed Rose. “ There
is but one other, andI know who will be Num-
ber Four. The ways of Providence are won-
, There was

but one man who could have that knowledge,

and there is but one man who has that war.
Do not speak to me, Mr. Pratt, I am thinking.
Through the darkness’l see a great light, For
SOme time it has been spreading and growing
and I believe it will burst upon me atlast, in a l
its fullness and glory. ” ,

CHAPTER XXIX.

, .IURPBISES. .

As the office of the Death Gulch Mining Com-
Eny a edWesley Ryder, and inquired for

nito ha.

_ tzllis clerical appearance drew attention to him
a once. -

“Take the gentleman u tairs to Mr. Rosal-
ha l‘ said Buck Farley, an Ryder was ushered
into the handsomely furnished room in which
Benito sat alone.

The young hunchback rose to receive him,
and his eeting showed that Ryder When more
tha We come visitor.

“ re you are at last!” said Benito. “ I
have been here several days waiting for you;

. but I haveJear'ned that you were in the neigh-
borhood.” - '

“ Indeed! How did you find that out?”

“ I heard of some of your performances year
terday, and Iknew that you had been captured
and taken to the abandoned New Ophir mine,
to perform a marriage ceremony for my cousin,

< Manuel Vincente.”

“Of course, then, you know that 'Manuel
Vincente is dead.” ’ »

“ Yes, and his death does not grieve me.
You know that I had no affection for him. and
I know that he deserved the death he died.
Let him pass, and tell me the noWS. I-suppose
that you have been a unsuccessful In your
search for my sister as have been”  ,

-‘ We will come to that directly. Do you
know who the young lady. was, to whom your

1 cousin wished me to marry him?”

I  .

 

“Yes. It was a ulating young lady
named Rosina, who owsii'gcthe Little Ruby mine:
I suppose he wanted to marry her for her

mong'”

“ 9 might well have wanted to marry her
for her beauty, to say nothing of her other
5 lendid ,points. Have you evor seen her, Mr.

osalba? L

“No. Ihave been here but a. little while,
and I, do not take much interest in young la-

lea.

" I believe that you will take a lively interest
in this one. My friend, that speculating young
lady, named Rosina, who owns the Little Ruby
mine, and whom Manuel Vincente wanted to
force into a marriage with him, is your step-
sister, Rose Warren !” _

Benito jumped up, his face blazmg with ex—
citement.

“ Impossiblel” he exclaimed.

“ It is true, all the same. I have found her,
and the search is at an end.”

“ How can you know this, Mr. Ryder? You
never saw my sister."

“ Not before yesterday; but I saw her then.”

“Are you sure?” ,

“As sure as I am that I sit here. Your cousin
said that her name was Rose Warren, and she
did not deny it. I addressed her by that name
when I took leave of her last night. Oh, there
is no doubt of it. You have been blind. Could
you not guess that it must be your sister whom
Manuel Vincents was so anxious to marry?
Now don’t 615 into a flurry,” continued Ryder,
seeing that enito was trembling with excite-
ment. “Hold your horses, and % easy. She
is safe in Warneton, and is not 'kely to run
awayf”

“ on are right,” said Benito. “I must be

calm for her sake, if not for my own. I am

crazy to see her, but must first tell the news to

those who have so kindly aided me in my

search. Will you have the kindness to step

gownfxtairs and request Mr. Farley to come up ’
erel’

When the Bonanza Prince entered the room,
he saw the young man pacing the floor ex—
citedly, and knew that he had heard something
of im rtance. '

“ hat is the matter, Benito?” he asked.

“ Mr. Farley, it is wonderful. I hardly know
how to tell you.”

“Be calm, my lad, and take your time for
telling-it.”

“Were on not the leader of the Green Guard,
sir, when ahuel Vincente was captured ?"

“Yes, and I recognize the man who came up
here as one who did good service at that time.’

“ Do you know the lady whom Vincente was
trying to force into 9. mar ‘ e?”

“I do not know her, but I now of her. She
calls herself Rosina, and has for some time been
a speculator in mining stocks and the like.
hYe ’I know of her, and I know nothing against

er. ,

“ I should hope that you donot. You rescued
her from those scoundrels last night; you
rescued her from Pedro Rosalba’s gang when
they pounced on the Little Ruby mine; you
rescued her from the robbers who attacked the
Warneton stage; you came to her assistance
when she was swamped by the New Ophir
speculation; you have been in her presence
agairi and again; yet you did not know who she
was.

“How should I?” asked Farley. “She was
always closel vailed. If she chose to conceal
her identity, ought to be too much of a. gentle-

,mau to try to uncover it.”

“Mr. Farley, that lady is my sister, Rose
Warren." /

“ Benito I”

The young man was astonished at the affect
his words produced I: n his benefactor. Buck
Farley sunk into a 0 air his frame uivering
with excitement, his face flushed, and his breath
coming in gas '

“ My dear s rl” exclaimed Benito, running to
him. “ What is the matter? Are you going to
be ill? Shall! call for he] .2" .

“ No, my lad," replied arleg’, feebly at first,
but regainin his strength as e spoke. “It is
only a sort 0 spasm, and will be over resent] .
Give ,me a drop of brandy from t e bu et
there. Thank (you, Benito. You are a good

oung man, an you deserve the happiness that

as been ,so long deferred. I am subject to
these attacks. Excitement brings them on, and
you had worked me up to a high pitch of ex-
pectation.” , g

“ I am sorry, Mr. Farley.” '

“ There is nothing to make you sorry, eve -
thing to make you glad. ‘Are you sure that t e
lady is your sister?’ . ‘ I. I

‘ Mr. Ryder, who was here Just now, is the
man who was helping me search for her. He
says that there can be no doubt of it.” .

“ Thank God for all His ,mercies! As I have
told you, Benito, money cannot do everything.
Here have I been for so lon a timein reach
of your sister, and have not ‘ nown that it was
she. I was sure that she could be found, but
would never have thought of looking for her in
that guise.” '

 

“She has ,had 'brain find will enough, Mr.
Farley, to make her way inthe world”. ,

—_.

“ No doubt of that. You must be anxious to
see her, Benito, and I will not hinder you.
Better ride over to Warneton at once. But I
shall want to visit her also, and you may ex-
pect me to be following you shortly.”

“She will be glad to see you, sir, to thank
you for all you have done for her."

“ As for that I have been working in my
own interest. Tell your friend Ryder to make
himself comfortable. He shall be well re’ward-
ed for his search and his discovery. Hurry off,
Benito!”

The young man had hardly ridrlen away from
the oflice when Buck Farley sent a pressing
message to his partner, who speedily ¥oined
him in the room which Benito had late y eit.

“What is the matter, my son?” he asked, ob-
serving that Farley was pacing the floor, with
his eyes fixed on the carpet. “I hope there is
no more bad news.”

“ Nothing but good news, my dear friend,
the best of news." '

“ I hope it is not about Pedro Rosalba. I am
not vindictive, Farley—that is, 1 am no longer
so. I don’t object to anything you have done
or intend to do; but I would really rather not
hear of the death of that man.”

Buck Farley took the old man by both his
hands, and looked him earnest] in the face.

“ It is not news of death hat I am ro tell
you,” he said. “It is news of life. You know
that we have been searching for Rose Warren.”

“Is it news of her? You say that it is news
of life. She must be alive, then.”

“Yes: she is alive.”

:“ And, you have found her?”

0

John Warne’s face fell.

“ How can you treat me so, Farley?” he
asked. “ You lift me up only to knock me
down. What do you mean i”

“I have not found her, old friend; but she is
found. She is safe and well, and is here. Not
in this building, but near here. You have met
her, but have not known her. It was she who
was saved from the clutches of Manuel Vin-
cente last night.”

d_“ ,Ah! the scoundrell He did deserve to
ie. '

“ She is Rosina, the owner of the Little Ruby
mine, and she is now in Warneton. Can you
bear to see her?” ‘

“Well, my boy, I have borne much sorrow
in my time, and I believe I can stagger under
a load of joy. Let us go at once."

CHAPTER XXX.
A GREAT LIGHT. ‘

Rosa WARREN sat at her windowrin the hotel
at Warneton, looking out a/t the street, as if she
were expecting some one. She were no veil,
and her countenance was unusually serene.

“What makes you so restless, Rose?” asked
Mrs. Outram.

“ Why, auntie, how can you ask such a ques-
tion, when I am sittin here as still as a statue,
and you are hopping a at the room as if the
floor was hot?”

“ I am worrying about you, my dear.”

“ You need worry about me no more. It is a
long time since I have felt such a sense of peace
and safe as I now feel. Auntie, you have
often sai t at you would like to have that

heavy vail o mine for a scarf. You may have '

it now. I shall never wear it again.”
“ Are you sure of that, dear child?”
“ Quite sure and very glad.”

\

“ Then you must be sure that you are safe, or i

that there are people about here who know who
you really are. ’ _

“ I am sure of both of those points, auntie.
As Manuel Vincents is dead, to; attest
danger no longer threatens me. As e to R0-
salba knows who I am, it matters not who else
knows it.” ‘ . '

“ Does it not matter at all, Rose? That man,
whose voice touched you so strangely—the
leader of the Green Guard—did he see your_face
last night?” '

“ No, auntie.”

“ How was that?” ‘ ‘

“ You know that it has to be such a habit
with me to keep my Vail own, that it is almost
a second nature, and I suppose I dropped it an-
awares. And there was no reason whyl should
show my face to him or any other man.”

“As the Green Guard has done so much for
you, Rose you might have been a little more

iberal. Have you found out yet who he is?”

“ No, auntie. I have not found «out, but I
knew.”

“ You have not found out, but mu, know]!
What a strange way you have of tal ‘ 3! Who
is he then!" _ '

“ Ruck Farley, the Bonanza Prince.”

“Why do you think sof’ .

' “ I just put this and that together. You sent
word to Mr. Farleyat Death Gulch, and the
Green Guard came to my rescue. That is one
reason, and I have others. But it is not worth
while to ar e the int, auntie. We shall
know before ong, as have a presontiinent that

. he will bghere today.” r
 “A presentiment! Why, Rose, you are get-

ting to be so 1316813” -
“ I am gla to have that kind of queer-nose.

 

4 :‘J ,.J,,.~.'...:\ . 

 

 

:Aa‘ ‘

 

 

 

23

 

 

Hark, auntie! Some one is coming up toward
our room. Perhaps it is he?"

I It was a. waiter, who knocked at the door,

. and was admitted by Mrs. Outrain.

) “A gentleman to see Miss Rosina.”
. “ Who is it?” she eagerly asked.

Mrs. Outram read from the card that was

J handed to her, “ Benito Rosnlbu.”

“My brother! My dear little brother!” ex-

. . claimed Rose. “ Send him up at once.”

Benito had come up at the heels of the waiter,

n and the next moment Rose had him folded in

l a close and long embrace.

i “ Why, you big fellow!” she said, holding
l him of! to take a good look at him. “ How tall
t you have got to be! And you have almost out-
, grown your hump. But you could never grow

1' out of my heart, dear Benito. How did you

,5 know that I was here?"

, is “Mr. Ryder told me—the man who looked so
j much like a clergyman. I had employed him
1' “ to search for you, and you know how he found
3 you.

3‘ “They tell me, Benito, that you left the

i ranch, and followed me off.”

i “ Yes, sister; I have ben seeking you a long
time; but it was only lately that l was able to
begin a proper search. I drifted back here, and
was kindl taken into the Office of Farley &
Warne. told them my story, and they offered
tohelp me find you. They supplied me with
finiijniited money, and have been wonderfully

. in .

i “I am sure of that, and I know that I owe

them much. It is no wonder that you could

not find me, Benito, as I was far from here, and

I kept myself disguised as well as Icould. I

was afraid of your father and his nephew, and

dared not even let you know where I was. for
fear that they would find me. Manuel Vin-
cents did find me in San Francisco, and here he

,1 found me again.”

i “ He is dead now, sister.”

I “I know it. Thanks to the Green Guard, I
~ have no longer any fear of him. Tell me. Be 1-

‘ ito, is not your friend, Mr. Farley, the hadn-
of the Green Guard i” ,

“ That is a secret, sister; but I believe I may
tell you that he is.” ,

“I knew it. I am anxious to see him."

“You will see him shortly. He told me he
would follow me here.”

“ I know it, Benito. I must show you my dear
auntie, who has been waiting so patiently to
speak to you.”

I While Benito was: making the acquaintance
of Mrs. Outram, and he and Rose were recount-
ing their various experiences, a waiter brought
the’information that Mr. Buchanan Farley was
below, wishing to See “ Miss Rosina.” I

“ Show him up,” said Rose, striving to com-
pose herself for the interview which she almost
dreaded while she intensely longed for it.

. l 'g The Bonanza Prince was not so has as
'x Benito had‘been; but he shortly enter the

room, and glanced quickly at Rose, whose face
was averted from him at the moment.

“ I have called to see Miss Rose Warren,” he
sa-id. .

His words added a flush to her face and a
light to her eyes as she turned toward him.
But who was that tall and fine-looking man
with the heavy beard? . She must not act upon
impulse alone. Had the “ great light ” of which
she had spoken really dawned? '

“ Rosei’ he exclaimed, and there was no mis-~
-. taking the voice, the air, the gesture.

*\ “E ward!” she answered, and they met at

’- last. .

" “It is.indeed you,” she said. “ It is impossi-
ble, but it: is true. Were you actually thrown
into Death Gulch?"

‘i‘ I was“ and was miraculously preserved.’
Bub. that s a long story, to which you may
listen when we have more leisure."

“ God has given you back to me. At least He
has given you back, and I hope it is to me that
He has given you. I could not live if I should

' , lose on now. ' ‘

‘9 am entirely yours, Rose, as I have always
been. But’ there is another here, waiting im-
' Patiently to see you, who has a better right to

your love and duty than I have.”

A better right, Edward? What can you

mean?” ‘ .

“An older right, at least. You once had a
father.” ‘

“Yes, and he was very dear to me; but I
lost him when I was a child. He disappeared

I many years ago, and they told me that be was

dead. Is he not dead?"

’ “ No. He, too, was thrown into Death Gulch
by Pedro Rosalba, and he, too, was miraculously
preserved. He is now the elder partner in the
firm of Farley 85 Warne, and he is waiting for

 r me to call him up here.” - ,

“ Oh, call him up! Call him u at once!"

It was not necsssary to call J o n Warne. He
had quietly followed his partner. upstairs, and.
had been listening at the door, and there he
stood, trembling with e erness.

.The next moment bis aughter was folded in
his arms, and his tears of Joy weraqfallmg on;

or head. , ‘ ' an;

“7 Would you have known me?" she asked, as

. she lifth up her happy eyes to his face.

 

 

 

Buck Farley,_the BonanZa  ‘.

“Known you, my child? Of course I would
not. I left you a little Gipsy of a girl, and I
find you a tall and splendid woman. I need
not ask you if you would have known me."

“But I would have known you,” Rose de-
clared. “That is, I know you very well now,
and am sure that you are my own dear father.
Ihave never forgotten you, and you have not
changed so very much.’

“And now, my dear child," said the old man,
“Insk nothing more of this world. There is
nothing more that it can give me. I am re-
stored to you, and I need livo but a little lon or
to see you united to a man who would be fu ly
worthy of you if you were the best of created
beings. I have seen him tried in many ways,
and I know him to be as good as gold and as
true as steel. If it had not been for him, I
would never have met you again in this
world.”

“ I formed a pretty cod opinion of him some
time ago,” remarks Rose, with a blush.
“Speaking of good people, you would have to
go far to find a better than my dear auntie
here, Mrs. Ontram, who will be glad to know
'ou both. If it had not been for her, I would
have perished on the plain shortly after I ran
away from Pedro Rosalba, and-she has been
more than a mother to me ever Since."

Mrs. Outram’s kindly face spoke for her as
well as Rose‘s words, and the two men over-
whelmed her with assurances of their gratitude,
which she declared she did not deserve, as Rose
had been far more to her than she could have
been to Rose. . _

“The name of Outram is a familiar one to
me,” said Buck Farley. “A sister of my
mother’s married a man named Outram. Her
name was Margaret Helmsley.”

“That’s me!” exclaimed Mrs. Outram. “My
sister Louise married Andrew Dorlon; but they
both died far away from me, and I understood
that they left no children.”

“There was one boy, aunt Margaret, who
has lived and knocked about the world, and is
very glad to find you at last.”

“This is too had,” said Rose. “You must
not take my auntie away fromme.”

“ I will not. She shall be your auntie as well
as mine, as soon as you are willing to make her

71

“As I could never hear to lose her, it must
be as you say. Now you see, auntie, that my
prophecy has come true. I said that my troubles
were at an end, and that I would soon see a
great light.” . I

“ Had you believed, then, that I was livmg?”
asked the Bonanza Prince. .

“Not until very lately; but for sometime I
had been wondering and doubtingi When
Pedro Rosalba was ruined in the ow Ophir
speculation, and I was saved,.I felt that some
agency was at work a ainst him. When I was
rescued from the re -agents. I felt that some
power was protectin me. When those pictures
were shown at Mr. ratt’s exhibition, I won-
dered who it could be that knew so much.
When those Scoundrels who threw you into
Death Gulch met their fate. one after one,'I
wondered yet more. When 1 saw you out here
in the street, your form and air sent a strange
hope to in heart. When I heard your voice
at the Litt e Rub mine, it thrilled me through
and through. Al this time my' wonder and
ho 3 had been rowing, and last night your
volzze made me a most certain; but it was not
until the death of Number Three that I really
knew who on were. Can it be, now, that you
have been oing so much for me, and have not
guessed that it was I. whom you were help-
in i '

“I must confess that I never guessed it..

When I first heard of you, in that New Ophir
affair, I felt that I owed you something, and
you were a woman, and your name reminded
me of Rose. But I have been pursuing my own
ends, which happened to work in your favor. I
felt sure that I would find you when the proper

time came.”

The Bonanza Prince told the story of his es-
cape from death, and of .the deliverance of
himself and Rose’s father from Death Gulch.
He showed how the discoveries made there .had
brought fortune to both of them, and declared
that e had been merely an instrument in the
hand of Providence for he punishment of men
who were guilty of the honest of crimes». _

“A willing. instrument, my son.” said his
partner. “However. I went as far as you
went, and am equally responsible with you.
But we may stop now. There is one left, and
that 'one the worst of all' but we have had
enough. Let there be no N’umber Four!”

“ I am satisfied,” replied Farley. “ I shall not

ursue Pedro Bosalbn any further. But I be-
ieve that he will get his deserts.” .

CHAPTER XXXI. '
.“WHO WILL an NUMBER noun?”

WHEN Pedro Rosalba reached his ranch, after
his unsuccessful attempt to find Padre Sarza, he
told his wife of the great success he and Manuel
had made in the capture of . .
. “ It is a bit of bad luck that Sarina. is am
just now,” he said, the next day; “ but I
soon settle that matter. There is an Irish

 

:2

priest near Warneton who is strongly bound to

me, and 1 will get him. Havo dinner at on

the table while send a messenger to anuel.
and when I have eaten I will go to this padre

Gallagher. in the mean time, the girl is safe."

They had hardly finished their dinner, which
was not an abundant one, when a visitor ar-
rived, and was ushered into the room where
they were seated. .

He was a tall man, of respectable a pearancc;
and was a stranger to Rosalha w o invited
him to be Seated, and inquired his name and
business. .

“M name 15 Morris,” said the stranger.
“and have heard that on want to sell this
property. I am ready to uy it if we can agree
upon terms."

_ This was an offer at which the Mexican
limped eagerly, as aflording him an exit from
is embarrassments. But it would not do to be

too hasty. Saying that he had no time to

spare. be named his price. .

I “We will not uarrel about the fl re, if you

can give me a lit c,” said Morris. ‘ at I have

heard that Buck Farley has a claim on the

ranch.” ' 7

“It’s a lie!” said Rosalba. “When I heard
that he claimed to, have a deed, I renounced it
a forger . Now I know that t e claim was
false, an that he has no such deed."

“Are you sure of that, Mr. Rosalba.”

“ Yes, I Am sure of it.”

“Well, sir, as I have seen such a deed in Mr.
Farley’s possession, and as you are sure that he
has not got it now, I suppose you can tell me
where it is?" ' '

“ What do you mean by that, sir?”

.Pedro Rosalba looked into the muzzle of a
pistol. and saw that the meaning of his visitor
was plain.

“I'mean that you are my prisoner,” replied
Morris._ “I have a warrant to search this
house, issued by the Vigilance Committee of
Death Gulch, and I mean to keep you quiet
until the search is made.” ‘

.“ Hel l” shouted Rosalba.
Jim! ome here nick!”

In response to his appeal two strangers, with
drawn revolvers, entered the room. '

“Your braves and servants are all under
guard," said Morris. “You see that womenn

“ Jose! Santo'.

turbance, you must be tied.”
As this order was being executed. Senora

declaring that he should not be tied.“

“ You had better be uiet, madam,” said
Morris, “ or we will be ob] ged to tie you also,
and that would be an unpleasant duty. v

the search was begun. ,

It was a long and tedious proceeding thou h
the searchers were numerous enough. The
building was gone through systematically, and
eyery room, closet, corner, and article of fur-
niture was searched, while Pedro Rosalba re-
garded the proceedings with gloomy and threat-
eningllooks, and his wife protested sharply and
span y. ’

Finally Morris came in with a bundle of pi»

rs, containing Hen Warren’s deed to Buck

arley, and some 01: er documents that had
been taken from the ofllce of the Death Gulch
Mining Compan . , .

f‘Ihave foun what Iwas looking for,” he
said, showing the bundle to Rosalba. “ Here ll
the deed I was speaking of. It and the other
papers were stolen roperty, and ve been
ound in this house. on may explain ow you
got possessio of them, if you care to.”

The Maxie n replied that
8.133% tlilemi, arid lInd no expltafiiationto make.

, ' e,sr. avano an orit to ' an
further in this matter—" - y 80 y
’ Rnealba’s face bri btened. . , -.

“ But I have just en informed of some mono

of your deviltry that is on foot, andjiave been

’5 hope faded 8W3. This, new turn
in the game would prevent e fulfillment of his
promise to Manuel which had already been too
(ing delayed, and it threatened to ruin his
p ans. , ,

But there was no remed , as he was bound
anda prisoner. .He ate h an r with such
appetite ashe could muster an went to bed,
With a guard a the door of his bedroom.

In the mom n he and his wife arose, and
found nothing to inder them from going about.
the house as the pleased. The emissaries from‘
the Vigilance mmlttee of Death Gulch had
silently departed, Without any‘ ceremony of
leavmtaking. . . '

Pedro Rosalba mingled an abundance of
curses with his morning drains, which were
considerath heavier than usual, and announced
his‘intention of gems: in search of Manual.

‘ There is a chance that all‘mnv be right
yet,” said he, “unless this job of nuel’s is
what that fellow spoke of when he said that he
was 8011!? to keep me a prisoner through the
night. I they havedropped on that, the game

is up.” . _
. T 9 household was demom‘limd, and ,hi;

 

breakfast was ver late increasin may angu-
Iand linpatience. y " , 8‘
. l ’ '

.‘ . I

business. As you seem disposed to make a dis- 

>Rosalba ran to the assistance of her husband,

Pedro Rosalba was bound to his chair, and .  I

he knew nothing '

notified to keep you here safely until morning)”

 

 

 

 

 

 

'jVVBoseonhisaI-m.

’24,,

‘ Bucky Farleykthe Bonanza Prince.

 

 

When he was at last ready to start, he was
stopped by the arrival of a man whom he re—
- cognized immediately as one of the gang that

he had left with Manuel.

This fellow, whose face told a story of disas-
ter, was one of those who had been sent out to
administer a thrashing to Parmenas Pratt, if
not to kill him. '

He briefly related the events that had trans-
pired in the old mine, as far as he knew them,
and told how the Green Guard had come upon
himself and his comrades, releasing Pratt, and
he alone had escaped. . ‘ ‘

“All is up, then i” exclaimed Rosalba. “Of
course the shOw fellow led them into the mine,
‘nnd Manuel iseither dead or a risoner. Come
into the house, Alfonso, and to your story to
the senora.’

Senora Rosalba was terribly stricken by this
new blow, and her cries and complaints con—
trusted sharply with the silent despair of her
husband. . '

“Are you going to let it end so?” she do.
mulled, turning an ily upon him. “Do you
meantolie down 1i 6 a‘whipped our, and let
those wretches ride over you? Will you not

' even go and look for Manue ’

“I know where to look for Manuel,” he
gloomily replied. “There is but one lace
where he would be likely to be found. ount
your horse, Alfonso, and ride out to Death
Gulch—you know the place I mean, where the
solitary tree stands at the edge—and bring me
word of what you find there.”

It was guite a ride from the ranch to the

» Gulch, an it was late in the day when the

Mexican returned.

His story could be read in his face even more
plainly than when he met his master in the
morning. ‘

He had found a man hanging from the out-
reachiug limb Of- the solitary tree. That man
was Manuel Vincents, and on his breast was a
pa r inscribed “ Number Three.”

' he fatal words struck terror to the heart of
Pedro Rosalba; and his countenance assumed an
expression of utter despair. The news was what
he had expected; but it told too lainly of the
fate that was gradually but sure y overtaking

» him. The Vengeance had seized Number Three;
how soon would it strike Number Four?

Senora Rosalba stormed a ainst fate and her

'foes until she was tired, an then turned her
batteries upon her husband, accusing him of
being a fool and a coward, who had ruined
himself and her, and who was too faint-
hearted to make an efiort to avert the final
disaster.

For once he declined to take part in a scold-
ing match. The only answer she got was this:

“ Who will be Number Four?”

“It ought to be you, you wretched imbecile 1”
she replied.

“No,” said Rosalba. “That shall never‘be. I
will go to the Gulch now. and will cut down
that tree, and, then I shall be sure that no man
will ever hang from it again!”

CHAPTER XXXII.
DEATH GULCH AGAIN.

WHEN her husband had gone, Senora Rosalba
remained sea.th as he had left her, her head
bowed upon her breast, and her arms lying idly
in her lap, scemin to have fallen into a stupor.

' She had passed alf an hour or more in this
condition, when she suddenlystarted up, arous-
ed by the noise of new arrivals at the ranch. ,

The arrivals clearly numbered more than one;
but only one person entered the room. ’

It was Benito, who bowed to her respect-
! ’ \

ully. .

“Mother,” he said, “ I have come back.” r

“ You are no son of mine,” she retorted;
glam-ring at him. “ Yon are a disobedient,
vile abortion. You have been in league with
0 1r enemies arainst your father and me, and I

’ detest you. Get out of my sight!” '

“ I am not the only one who has come back,”
onlme continued Benito, “ Ross is here. After
a long search I have found her at last, and she
is well and happy.”

, “ May Satan blast her! She has been the
on use of all our trouble, and at last of our ruin.
Take her away and never let me see the face of
either of you again 1” > V

" There is vet another lost one who has been
found. It Edward Dorlon, whom we believed
to be dead. He is now known as Buck Farle .”
. “I know it. Not even Death Gulch could ill
that Yankee devil, and he has come back from
the grave to worry and torture us. Last night

mv husband.”

Bonanza Prince entered the Tom, with

"You are mistaken, madamp as said. “I
'shall not rsue you any further. I mall to see
you and Rosalba comfortably settled. _ I
am about to marry your daughter, and‘am Will-

Ing to make peace." a ’ -
H May .iy curse rest upon you'bothl I want
nailing from you. Let the devils who have

n driving us do their yworstl” .

he killed Manuel, and now he means to murder .

 

“ There is another whom I can restore to

on,” said Farley. “Your husband, Henry

arren, was not killed when he was thrown
into Death Gulch. I found him there, and he
came out with me. He is known as John
Warne, and he is here. ”

John Warne came in, and stood, smiling, at
his daughter’s side.

It needed but this to complete the wreck of
Lucia Rosalba. She flew into a frenzy, and
stormed like a fury, first at one, and then at
another of her uninvited guests, but mainly at
herhusband whom she cursed for a Yankee
devil, and at Benito, whom she taunted with
being a bastard.

Rose turned pale, and shudder-ed as she shrunk
behind her lover.

“Do not be afraid,” he said. “This fit will

u 

soon 53.” _

“ ou lie!” shrieked Senora Rosalba.
will not pass: but I will'pass, and/I defy you to
stop me. I' leave this house to you, and my
curse I leave with it. Iam going to join my
husband.”

“ Where is he?” asked Farley.

“ He has gone to Number Three, andI am
going to Number Four!”

She rushed frantically from the house, vault-
ed upon ’s horse thh an agility that could
not have been expected froma person of, her
bulk and dashed away at full gallo .

.” She is crazy,” sai Farley. “ e must fol-
low her, old friend. Benito, stay here with
your sister.” .

The two men were speedily mounted, and
careering through the timber, across the brook,
and over hills and down gullics, in pursuit of
the flying woman: but her horse easily kept
the lead, in spite of the weight he carried, and
some supernatural instinct seemed to enable
his rider to avoid all the obstacles that delayed
her pursuers. ‘

At the edge of Death Gulch stood a solitary
man with an ax, choppin at the base of a soli-
tary tree. From along ranch that hung over

,the chasm, swung the body of a man at the end

of a rope, and the tree was nearly ready to fall.

The galloping of a horse made the axman
pause from his labor and lool: around.

He saws. large woman riding toward him
with frantic gestures, urging to the top of his
speed the horse that bore her.

Again and again his ax sunk into the totter-
ing trunk. v v ‘ '

As she leaped to the ground at his side, and
her horse bounded away with a snort of terror,
the hangman’s tree quivered, bent, and toppled
over into the ab 55, the body that swung from
the outreaching imb leading its fall.

“A brave deed; Pedro Rosalba,” exclaimed
the woman‘. “Now you have proved yourself
ten times the c0ward that you are a fool. You
have sent poor Manuel into the Gulch, and all
you have left to do is to follow him.”

“ What do you .mean, Lucetta?” he asked, his
face turning ashy pale in the moonlight.

“I mean that you were too cowardly to take
care of Manuel efore you cut down that tree
in thavain hope of saving your own life. I
mean that you have ruined yourself and me.
and have brought both the living and the dead
down upon us. They are allrat the ranch—
Benito, Rose Warren, Edward Dorlon, and that
infernal Yankee who was my husband.”

“ Impossible l” exclaimed : Rosalba, as he
{faiied upon his ax to support his trembling

m s.

“Fine work you have dOue. you sneaking
coward! Itrusted to you to make an end of
my enemies, and they all rise up to torture me.
But they shall not have the satisfaction of
killing you. That is the one joy that is left to
me, and
Four!”

So excited were the two that they 'did not
notice 'the clatter of boots on the stony ground
as Buck Farley and John Warne galloped to

the scene.

With a wild cry she rushed at him, and threw
him over into the chasm. /

“And I will be Number Five 1” she shrieked,
as she raised her arms above her head. '

Before she could take the fatal Wlunge she
intended, Buck Farle and John arne had
seized her and drawn or back from the abyss.
1t required the exertion of all their strength
to subdue her, and they were obliged to tie mr
hand and foot before they could carry her back
to the ranch. " .

She is now a hopeless lunatic, and an inmate
of-oln insane asylum, where she never speaks of
herself but as' ‘f Number Five.” ,.

The Bonanza Prince retained the name under
which he had gained his fortune, and con»
tinned to reaper, his prosperity being aided
and she by his chin-ming- wife, formerly
Rose Warren. ‘ ‘

John Warns retired from active business,
and his place in the-firm was taken by! Benito
Rosalba. who was devoted to his step-sister and
her husband. " .

Parmenas Pratt continued to act as manager,
and soon became part owner of the Little'Ruby
mine. whic “panned out ” to meet the expec—
tations of all concerned. . i

I, myself, shall count you Number

 

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