\\

.awu“ H u i ll

EADI—E B: ADAMS-

ENTERED AT THE POST OFFICE AT NEW YORK. N. Y.. AT SECOND CLASS MAIL Runs.

 

Week- 93 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y., June 20,1883. $5.00 a Year

 

V01  Published Every cBeadZe 9% fldams, épublishers, Tenmmctm.

fin: PILGRIM SHARP; or, THE suLmEm SWEETHEARL

A. TRUE STORY OF THE OVICRLAND TRAIL.

 

BI “ BUFFALO BILL,” (Hon. Wm. F. Cody,)
GOVERNMENT SCOUT AND GUIDE,
urrnon or “ THE DEATH TRAILER," “ THE GOLD BULLET 3mm,” me, me.

 

 

“SAY, swunomns, 1 pawns THIS RUSS AND us nun FOLKS THROUGH ON THIS mm, on I’LL nun A ennmm mom- Hm!”

 

 

2

/

The Pilgrim Sharp.

 

 

The Pilgrim Sharp;
The Soldier’s, Sweetheart.

A True story of the Overland Trail.
1

 

BY BUFFALO BILL,
(Hon. W. F. Cody, Government Scout and Guide]

Aurnoa or “ ms DEATH mamas," “ run GOLD
BULLET SPORT,” “0., ETC.

CHAPTER I.
run Prmnnu sum.

BACK to the year 1857 we look, and our glance
falls upon scenes in the then Far West border—
scenes fraught with danger in its worst forms
death in its most appalling shapes, and deeds of
daring that made many a man a hero, thou h
clad in the rude dress of a miner or the hue -
skin suit of a scout or guide.

My story of a true trail opens in the stirring
year of ’57. when Leavenworth, Kansas, was

he field of busy action, the tarting‘point to
wilder scenes further on toward the land of the
setting sun.

It was a rude town in those days, and its citi-
zens were a wild set, reveling in daring adven-
ture, sleeping with arms ready at hand, and
with grim death a daily companion; for often,
indeed, was the sharp crack of the revolver
heard, rin 'ng out above the sounds of merri-
ment by y and by night, and sounding the
knell of some or wretoh ‘who had been ‘jostled
out of life wit out a moment’s warning.

' In a large saloon of Leavenworth, one night,
my “ower true tale” 0 us. The shufiling of
cards, rattling of dice, c inking of glasses, mur-
mur of voices and boisterous laughter, in
chorus with oaths, were the sounds that were
heard:

Some important move was on hand, it was
evident, for men came in and departed from the
saloon. farewells were spoken, hands were
grasped, and rude “ God-speeds ” were s oken.

Those there assembled were men of t e bor-
der, miners o to hunt gold toward the set-
ting sun, an miners returning East with snug

_ sums dug from the yielding earth.

. Then there were teamsters, belonging to the

'Overland Trains of Russell, Majors and Wad-
dell, herders, soldiers, igamblers, and last but
by no means least, gu des, scouts, hunters and
tra pers, with here and there the red face of an
In ian from some friendly tribe.

Before the bar all there met upon a common
footing, as they did also around the gamblin -
table, for the love of whisk made them al
akin, and to those who play towin,one man’s
gold was as good as another’s.

Prosently there strode into the room a man
whose appearance riveted every eye.

He was tall, slender, yet apparently of mus-
cular build, had a clear cut, beardless face, with
restless black eyes, and his hair was long, strag»
gling, and of a sandy hue. .

But his dress was the most striking, for he
were almost 'ust such an attire as our national
figure of “ ncle Sam " is pictured, his head

 

being covered with a white beaver hat, over .

which had been placed the brim of a broad
sombrero, the crown having been cut out for it
to fit snugly down upon the narrow rim of the
“ easmr."

About his neck was a stock of black silk and
a standin collar, and then came a blue coat, of
the “ sw low-tail” style, trimmed with brass
buttons, 9. mi velvet vest, crossed by a heavy
gld chain, and pants with crossed stripes on

em large enough to play a game of checkers
on.

The is were strapped down beneath his
book, 3:: altogether he was a remarkable look-

MII .
ut thefingest thing about himwas that
he were no belt alarms. -

The closest scrutiny of the crowd, too, failed
to detect about him any weapon, as he coolly
walked“ up to th; bar and called for:

r o »
Ahus had alien upon the crowd at his en-
trance and all distinctly heard the very mild

drink which the at bed demanded, and a

rude laufgh followed, wxch sauna th:

natm‘eo n r w e one w no
, wondered a 30 mn had heenmis'taken for a
drug-store and the man was calling for medi-

cine“ “.2 were“ m. l»

“low,wa m u arm '
asked the bar-kee r. insultinst for nagging
lessthanstrsight m'u'etobehnd lit-h

ll

saloo . . .

All knew Bruiser Dick the saloon-keeper, as

a man no onecared to trifle with, for he was a

huge fellow, an ex-prine-flghter, and could get

rid of an ugly automer quicker than mg m
in Ieavenworth. . I

. He always stoodbebind his bar in i! hting‘

, trim, and just in front of him, and out o si ht

of the crowd, every yard or so, hung a Co t’s

revolver to be seized by his ready hand if

4

 

That Bruiser Dick was not pleased with the
stranger was evident, and the crowd at once
expected some fun, and consequently looked on
“$22?” i? ' ' i d u

, s ranger, nger pop a a ecoc on
made down East wglar I come from, and is
drunk by ther crowned heads 0’ ther whole
univarse, and you must be a all-fired greeny
not to know it,” was the calm reply of the
stranger, and his remark brought forth a gen-
eral laugh.

Bruiser Dick’s face flushed, and he replied:

“ Waal, I don’t keep no sich water-tank trash
in m serloon, and of you wants ter keep healthy

er’ 'better travel back East whar yer come

rom.

“ Oh, I see I kin keep healthy right here,
stranger, o of you hain’t got no pop, give me a
lemonade.”

" I hain’t got no such trashy drinkin’.”

“ Yer hain’t?"

H No." .

“Waal, I doesn’t tackle hard stufl, so 've
me some cider, though I hes heerd that c der
does lift a man off his legs of he surrounds too
lug? an iabtundaznoe ofdig.” ” d d

‘ a n o no er, gruili respon e
Bruiser Dick,8evidently getting angry to have
to admit that his sign—

“DICK DOLAN’S
“ FIRST-CLASS Lanou'r,
“ All Kinds of Drinks Here,"
was a written lie.

“Ohl yer hasn’t? ‘

“ Then yer sh’u’d take in yer s' , for it has
made yer tell me three lies alrea y," was the
cool res ones of the remarkable looking stran-

er, an in spite of the scowl of the bar-keeper
he crowd laughed.

Thus being ridiculed so an cred Bruiser Dick
that be was seen to sudden y thrust his hand
upon one of the revolvers in from of him and
then to as quickly draw it back, while he said
savagely:

"Say, pard, did you come in here for a
row?"

“ I guess not, stranger.”

“ Then what did you come for?”

_ “ Ginger pop,” was the innocent reply.

A shout of laughter rung through the saloon
at this, and the increasing interest of the situa-
tion even stopped the gambling at the tables,
all athering round to enjoy the scene.

“ ell, I’ve at nothing that you drink, so
git out ” savage y said Bruiser Dick.

“ This is a pub ic institootion, I guess.

“ Hain’t it, stranger?" calmly asked the visi-
tor.’

“ For men, yes, but not for sich as you,” was
the angry retort.

“ Ohl now do tell what you call me?”

“I give it up; but whatever you is, you’ve
got to git, and git lively."

“I hain't in no hurry, Doctor Tanglei‘oot,”
was the laconic response, and again did Bruiser
Dick thrust his hand forward, and this time it
rose above the bar, and in it wasa revolver.

It covered the heart of the stranger, the ham-
mer was drawn back, and Bruiser Dick’s hand
was upon the tri er, while he said hoarselyv:

“ Now git out 0 this and dust lively!”

The stran or never iiinched, but said calmly:

“ Doctor isky—slinger, yer see I has no
wen , and down East what I hail from, it
are said that only a coward will draw on a man
as is unarmed.”

“ That’s sol”

2: g: has you therefipick!”

t u our gun
Such walls the cries that went round the
room, from those who loved fair play, and the
last s aker Bruiser Dick turned upon, and in-
stanti’; covered him with his revolver, while he
hissed forth: ,-
“ You is armed, Lew Sounder:i and as you
has made tmmr funeral, jist l in.”
The man resend as Lew Saunders was evi-
dently caught off his , for auction to
draw his weapon would ve caused his death,
and therefore he dared not move.
He wasa yonn man with a pale face, full
of suflerin , and, e look of one against whom
the world all! s. grudge.
The stranger glanced at hini, saw that he
seemed ill, and came to the rescue with:
t “tNo, it hain’t his funeral, but mine, Tangle-

oo . ' . , »
"Deathseeunterhevnflilp on him now, so
take yer hand off -and of are yer day tor
kill somebod , why jist kill me.”

Bruiser D ck was now livid with and
again turned upon the Yankee, while 0 said

“or”
' an] as erhutorbalicked I’lljistdolt
now an I vyvereafooltertske’aweepin to

or,” ,1 v , ' .

y With this he all down his revolver, laid his
hand upon the , and spa-in n lightly over
it,.n feat that showed 1: at c powelséelie
sent his ht list outs night from the shoul ,
aimed at e Yankee’s face.

To the surprise of all the blow was ca ht
and turned by the Yankee, who retaliated th
s left-hander that sent Bruiser Dick his length
upon the floor.

I , .

_,1

 

 

A perfect howl of rage burst from the, lips of
Bruiser Dick, while a cheer went up from the
crowd, as they saw him regain his feet and rush
upon his foe like a madman.

But the stran or met him with another blow
that staggered im, and following up his ad-
vantage sent him once more to the floor.

“ Science him, Dick 1" shouted one,

“Yes, try ther ring rules on him !”

“ Yes, you knows prize-fighting, Dick, so show

him you ain’t no slouch."
Such were the cries that went u u on all
sides, and knowing his wers we 1, ruiser

Dick squared himself, an
ward.

The stranger confronted him, seemed very
awkward in getting his arms up for defense, but
parried a blow aimed at his end, and at the
same instant gave one full in the face of the ex—
grize—flghter, which once more brought him

own.

A ain and again the bull arose and rushed
to the attack, to be worsted every time, until
maddened by the jeers upon every side. and by
the pain he suffered, be sprung behind his bar,
and seized a revolver, shouting out fiercely:

“Curse erl this will end yerl”

Hardly ad the weapon appeared above the
bar, when there came a report, and with a yell
of agony Bruiser Dick dropped his revolver,
and held up his shattered band while he cried:

” Don’t shoot ag’in, pard, fer l caves!"

_ “Who fired that shot?” asked a dozen voices
in chorus.

“Thet Pil rim Sharp shooted it, out 0‘ his
coatotail poc et, fer thar is whar he carries his
wee ins,” called out one man who had seen the
quic act of the stranger, upon whom all eyes
now turned.

He stood innocently in their midst, one hand
thrust in the packet of his swallow-tail coat,
and his eyes fixed upon Bruiser Dick, to whom he
said In his cool way:

“I hain’t goin’ to shoot ag‘in, stranger, ’less
yer wants me to so set up ther glasses, an’ give
ther gents some licker at m expense, an’ as yer
hain’t got no ginger pop, I’l jist Suck water.

“Gents, come one, come all, and drink with
me, of Tanglefoot heur hain’t too lame ter set
’em 
“ ho yer is, I don’t know, and I doesn’t
care: but I are known as ther Pilgrim Sharp,
and I hails from down East.”

The cheer that followed showed that the
Pilgrim Sharp had made himself “solid” with
the citizens o Leavenworth, as represented by
those at the “ Prize Ring Saloon,” and one and
all accepted the invitation to “ take something ”
at his expense.

came cautiously for—

 

CHAPTER II.
a HEARS]! ON a man.

As the sun rose upon the morning following
the scene between the Pilgrim Sharp and Bruiser
Dick, its rays fell upon a train of wagons wond-
in their way toward the West.

t was a long line of “ prairie schooners.”
their white tilts listening in the sunlight,
and the voices of t e bullwhackers, the crack-
ing of the whi , and trampling of many boots
in ngling toast er in stirrin chorus.

The train ad pulled out in its camp near
Leavenworth at the flrstfillmmer of dawn, and
among those of whom was made up were
visible here and there a number of faces recog~
uizable as having been witnesses of the scene at
the saloon the n ght before, when the eccentric
Yankee, calling himself the Pilgrim Sharp, had
so easily mastered Bruiser Dick.

In their faces the men showed the evil in-
fluence of camp-life in Leavenworth, for the
traces of dissipation were‘very marked upon
them; their eyes were, red and heavy, and
many a pocket was empty, its contents having
gone over the gaming-tab e.

, A da or two mus pass before the effects of
their emeralinaticn would wear off, and then
the train-men would be themselves ,once more,
light-hearted, jolly, and willing to face any
danger and hardship that they might find in
their pathway.

As the rear of the train was dismaspesarlng
over a all ht rise, far back on the an ob-
ject was his coming on at an easy trot.

It was not a wagon, for it was black, nor was
it an ambulance, as itsshape was diam-ens,

“It are some old fam’ly can-id , that some
gerloqt hev stole an’ are levantin est in,"
:Jfiagster, after a close look at the coming

c .

Arriving at a small stream the train cane to
a halt for the noonday rest, and soon of“? “'9
object that had attracted the attention of those

the rear now a in run M.

As it turned, 1: following”. W11 Ind a.

a vi"; "m" we: °t hon" those :1: ct];-
mfl on on ,. ’ 9
0 ' oige was shove all, cry-

train, while one-v

‘13 a]; orIn’resllarl” '

“ Ym flg‘hlt',’ Monk, it are a dead wagin fer

sartin." said another. and instantly a hush fell

upon the entire crowd. >
In that far land hearses were unknown, but

everyman in that rude .thering had seen in

the past the dismal ve ole that carries the

 

“

 

 

‘ O O
The Pilgrim Sharp. 3
loved dead to their last resting-place, and carryin’ a stiff along, and I guesses er’d better But suddenly, there appleared in the full “is:

memory of some such scene, when a mother,
father. brother, wife, sweetheart or sister, had
been taken from them welled up, and brought
the recollection of how the sacred ashes had
been borne in just such a somber carriage to the
grave. I

Asit drew nearer those of the we entrain
saw that it was drawn bya pair 0 spirited
animals, and that upon the box was mounted
an individual who held the reins with the air of
a man who knew how to drive.

“It are the Pilgrim Shawl"

“ Yer is right,” said anumber of voices in
chorus, as their eyes now fell upon the uaint
driver, who was indeed the eccentric ankee
who had so cleverly tamed Bruiser Dick in his
own saloon.

He was dressed as he had been upon the re~
vious evening, and there appeared about im
no sign of a weapon.

In the boot of the hearse were a. saddle and
bridle. with a box and bag that evidently held
provisions.

The hearse was a large Vehicle, strongly
built, and its sides were impenetrable to the
Case, while the doors at the rear were secured
by a padlock, as though to keep out the too-
cudrious personage who might desrre to peep in-
El e.

{ Drawin rein near the crowd the Pilgrim
Show cal ed out: _

“ aal. strangers, here I is.” I

“ Yas, we see you is; but what in thunder is
yer doing with thet hearsal” asked a. wagon
boss, and the question he put was upon every

i .

p“ Strangers, yer is cur’us as kittens, but seein’
as how I hev come ter travel in yer comp’ny
fer a leetle while I don’t mind tellin’ yer,” was
the quiet answer of the Pilgrim Sharp.

“ Waai, we is pinin’ tei' hear what yer is
doin’ with that buss," said one.

“ Yer see, strangers, I are a Down-Easter, an’
when at home, I were a undertaker.

“But, arter I bed lanted about half 0’ ther
village whar I live, eath come round callin’ at
my door and my wife and leetle one just
slipped o with fever, and it just broke the all
u

p“But afore the old lady died she told me I
had ter promise her l’d tote her with me, of I
emigrated West, which I had a notion o’
doin’. .

“ She said of I didn’t carry her out West with
me. she and our leetle gal, thet they’d haunt
me ontil kingdom come.

“I swore I’d do it. and so I sold out my stock
0’ coffins, and I sold ’em cheap. giving a chrome
to every purchaser, and throwmg in my good
will, and tho’ I had a good offer fer ther hearse.
I jist kept it. and right in thar are ther sacred
geniaigu’s o’ my wife and child, and don’t you

orge .

“ No, I don’t intend to forgit it, you hot; but
does yen intend ter tote ther stifle clean out’ tor
what yer intends ter settle?” asked the wagon
LOSS.

"i does, my friend.”

“It are bad luck fer a train ter take stills
along,” remarked a man with a shudder.

“It are wuss luck fer me not tor take ’em, as
I kin sw’ar to,” replied the Yankee in a tone
that showed that there was something behind
his words which they wuld not understand.

“What does yer mean, pardl” asked the
WI on

“ swears that I struck'one night a lovely.

place ter start a graveyard, and says I to my-

self. .

“ “I I’ll I leave Sue and the little one
right here, and pilgrimage back every year ter
wee oveg’em.’k d_ gin th he

“set owor ig g or grave w n all
of a suddint I heard a moaninl sound.'

“I lookegi rgnnd tar find whar it come from,

d on L0 .
an“ What wag it!" gasped several of his hear-

ers.

“ What was it?

“ Why it were Sue and the leetle one in.ther
buss, jist cryin’ the’r eyes out at ther thought I
was lgoin’ tor leave ’em.

“ ogened ther door and then I seen I were
ter be canted of I didn’t keep my pledge ter
Sue. and bur her wherever I made my home.”

“ What ,di or see, pardi”

“ What did see!

“ Wh I seen ther spirits 0’ Sue and ther leetl
one an I Jist swore over “’11), of they’d sit
back in the’r comns and gait prowlin’ I’d fetch
’em on, an’ I hes done . .

“ An’ yer entends ter 0 ’em West with yer?”
asked the wagon boss.

“ I does.” ,

“ Yer is goin’ tor settle thari‘

“ Yes, that is what I intends to do. "*

“ Wad, weal,” and the wagon hoes seemed
troubled. while is silence fell upon all.

In the mean time the Yankee began to unhitch
his team in his quiet way, when he was hailed

With:
“Hold on that, 1*
“W831, b098, w at are the rumpus?" was the
uiet rapt-31139-
“ It don’t bring no good luck to a train to be

 

turn on the back trail fer Leav’wort a ’in."

“I guess not, stranger, fer I are p’inted fer
ther settii.‘ sun an’ that is ther way I goes."

“Not with this train, onless yer buries ther
cold meat," was the dec1ded answer.

It was evident, by the looks on the faces of
the crowd, that the boss of the train gave voice
to the feelings of his men, and the Pilgrim
seemed to read this expression Very quickly.

But he did not show any sign of fear, and re-
plied calmly:

“Strangers, this is a public trail, as I under-
stands it, and I intends tor travel it.

“It would be sartin death for me to go it
alone; but I will kee in the rear 0’ your train,
so as to call on you i I needs aid, for onsociable
as er seems, I guesses or won’t refuse to help
a Killer mortal out o’ t er grab o’Injuns and
road-agents, ef they tackle him."

“ No, you must go back to Leav‘worth,” was
the decided response.

“ I don't do no such thing, for that hain‘t ther
wa I’mheaded.” .

‘ Come, boys, let us bury his stifl, burn his
old dead wagon, and give him jist ten minutes
to dust,” cried aloud voice.

:: ay, ay, that‘s the music,” shouted one.

on stifle get ter be cold meat, they hain’t'

got no biz above ground.”

“Plant ’eml” cried a third.

That their ideas would be carried out was
very evident7 for the crowd began to gather
around the Pilgrim Sharp.

But suddenly he whiplped out two large Colt’s
revolvers from the ta pockets of his ancient
coat, and with a bound was upon the box of the
hearse; and then the Pilgrim Sharp shouted, as
he leveled his weapons:

“ Ba , strangers, I drives this buss and its
dead olks through on this trail, or I’ll make a
graveyard right here 1"

 

CHAPTER III.
ran rnonm snsar’s erru: can.

Tm: bold stand taken b the Pilgrim Sharp,

against the whole train, h its effect at once.
any of them had seen his strength and

deadl aim at the saloon the night before, and
thong they did not, as a body, fear him yet
his fearless mien won their admiration, and the
boss of the train was the first to cry out:

“ Pard, yer hes grit, and we doesn’t want no
trouble with yer.

“ Nor dees we want them stiffs along to bring
us. had luck, so 1 oflers a compromise.’

“ I am willing ter listen,” was the cool reply.

“ Well, hunt out a pleasant spot and bury
ther dead, and then take yer_traps and put ’em
in mly wagon and go along With us."

“ o, I guess not. stranger.

“1 goes with poor Sue and ther kid, or I
don’svgo at all.”

“ eel, yer can’t ring in them stifls on us."

“I doesu .t say I will; but I do say I’ll foller
yer of I hes ter hang back a mile in ther rear,
’ter do this I are willing ter fight of I has

ter.’
There was that in the look of the queer nius
that showed he was in dead! earnest, an after

a few words with some of
boss said:

“ Waal, it hain’t in us ter say yer sha’n’t do
thet; but mind yer, ef yer comes nearer ther
train with thet hues, yer ll hear suthin' o 03.

“ One mile ahind us yer stays, an camps
when we camps. and so it are fixed.” '

“Idoesn't ask more for r Sue and ther
leetle one' but I does ask of ts into trouble
that yer’ll give me a lift, fer is a green
in these parts, and Injuns nigh onto scares me
inter fits.”

“Yes, of yer needs help jist let 0 one o‘ yer
waepins, an ther boys will come k to yer
iii .

:: Emilia,” am: the Yangeg‘sregsyed his reins.
1' won an ill
“No, iii-e fixed." y y '
“Good-day, stran ers.” and wheeling his
hearse the Pi] rim S arp started on the back
gawtust as eti‘aiu began to pullout after

Seeing this the Yankee drove to one side and
began to unhitch his horses, to prepare for his
noonday rest.

And on the train went, leaving him there
alone with his ghastly vehicle and its dead,
while the one sub act upon every li was the
stra 0 man and h s stranger compau one.

Loo in back, as they were disappearing
from sig t those of the train saw that the
hearse-horses were staked out and quietly‘feed-
ing, while the Pllfim Sharp was reclining be-
neath a tree wit the utmost unconcern, as
though he was not in the least disturbed by
Reviing exiled from all companionship with the

n .
At‘ni htfall the train went into a pleasant
camp, a on the banks of a small stream, and
soon cheer lcamp fires were blazing. here and
there, and the flavor of broiling meatsand boil-
ing coflee filled the air.

A1190“! supper was partaken of, and then
the train were gathered around‘ the tires for a
chat and smoke. ’ -

is men the wagon

of the fire, about which 9 train boss and
immediate men were seated, none other than
the Pilgrim Sharp.

iIge was smiling, and in his free and easy way
as :

“1 guesses yer didn’t rule me out 0’ camp.
stran are, along with poor Sue and the kid.”

“ here is t eyi” asked the boss in a hoarse
whisper, for the gloom of night, and weird
shadows cast by the flrelight, made all feel I
certain superstitious awe.

“ In ther hearse.”

“And whar is ther buss?"

“ Back on ther trail one level mile."

A sigh of relief came from all at this, for
though walking in almost daily contact with
death, the superstitious bordormen felt a holy-
horror of that hearse and its load.

“ And what (ices you want heur, pardl"

“ Ter be sociable ike, stran er.”

“ Weal, we can’t say anyth ng ag’in’ that, so
sit down thar, and eat suthin’.”

“ I has had my supper, stranger.”

“ Wnal, we was Jist goin’ter tackle a leetle
game 0’ keerds.

“ Does yer play?"

“A leetle mite, I guess, tho‘ I am a reg’lar

greepry."
“ er hain’t sich a durned fool as yer look."
was the blunt reply.

“ I want to know,“ innocently came the re-
sponse.

“Wool. of yer takes a hand in our leetle
game yer'll soon know."

“ aybe," was the laconic reply.

The cards were then reduced and the’
we on boss, the uide and unter of the train,
an the Pilgrim harp sat down to play, while
ascore of others gathered around to ook on,
expecting to see the Yankee worsted, for the
tn'o in the game with him were known tobe
shar hands with cards and to play heavily

“ or has ther dust, I reckon!” suggeste the
wagon boss, slightly in doubt.

“Aleetle mite,” and a leather bag was pro-
duced. taken from some spacious rcce tacle in
his attire and it was seen to be well fl led with
gold, a. sight that raised the Pilgrim Sharpin
the estimation of all about him.

“So a pot o’ twent -flve each as a starter.
pards ’su gested the 

The tra ii men nodded assent, and the Pil-
Efithharp simply tossed that amount down as

s s are. '

Then the ame was be and ended with the
Yankee dragwing in the $9;

Another game was played with like result.
uni: a third followed With the hearse-driver the
w nor.

Every one watched him to see if he did not
cheat, and yet not a point could be made
a ainst him.

and wit out a word took up his cards an
threw them down, rakingh over his winnings in
amanner that seemed to s ow utter indifllerenco
as to whether he lost or won. ,
As the me went on and the Pilgrim Sharp

with the remark:

“ I caves, fer he has sized my ile.” '

Soon after the guide arose andp said: ,

“Say, ard, yer forces me fer wilt too, fer I
hes’nt go no more dust ter ve away.”

But he wagon boss st' held on until a;
couple of games more showed him that lack
was all on the side of his adversary, and he re
marked:

“I crawflshes too, Pilgrim, an’ I guesses we’ll
hev ter order yer back teryer hues, and vs
up ther pleasure 0’ seein’ yer or thar won be
a man in ther train. borders, hullwhackers and
all, who’ll hev any dust when we strikes ther
arm up in Utah.” .

“ y, pard, let me rustle yer a game or two.”

The speaker was a young man of striking sp-
Eearsnce, from his audy attire, which was

alf Mexican, half uckskin, and set oi! his
so b form to perfection.

and stem with dissi tion.

In the rain he was own as Trumps, from
his always playing a successful game of cards,
and in the few months he had bung about
hevonworth, many a poor fellow had msde‘
his acquaintance to his cost.

If he had other name he did not speak of it
and when the train had started West, he had
an as assistant hunter for the tri .

e was well mounted, well arm . and on
several Occasions had proven that he could win
a game of life and death as readily as he could'
a films of cards. and his unerring aim, added
to is great strength, made him an object to be
dreaded by his comrades.

“I'd as soon as not,‘strenger,” was the cool
reply of the Yankee to the grodposal, and the
young hunter sat down an rew from his
pocket a pack of cards.

“Let mesee ’em,” quietl said the Yankee.
and he took the cards on looked at them so
closely, that the hunter asked in an angry tone:

, ‘ “ Don’t yer think the is squar’ payer?”
 “No, stronger; but don’t in n , ferl has
‘ played with wuss and not got left, i guess.” ‘

 

6 pin ed with a cunning twinkle in his eyes ’

still cont nued to win, the hunter drew out

is face was during, evil in every feature, '

4

‘The Pilgrim Sharp.

 

A laugh followed this announcement, while
Trum s said savagely:

“ aai, yer’ll git eft playin’ along with me,
fer Trumps are my name clean through.”

“I want ter know." and the Pilgrim Sharp
looked the picture of innocence.

The game was now begun the hunter shuff-
ling and dealing, and each man eying the
other with the look of a cat watching a mouse.

Around them stood the train-men in silence,
their eager faces lighted up by the camp-fires,
and the whole scene presenting a strange pic-
ture.

“ I guesses this is my game, " said the Yankee,
as he threw down his last card and won.

The hunter made no reply, but his faco
turned livid, and the crowd drew a long breath,
for they expected. future developments of a
more thrilling order.

This time the Pilgrim Sha shuffled and
dealt, and he did both with a co erit that was
remarkable, defying those who watc ed him to
follow his movements.

“I guess yer hes give yerself a winnin’ hand
this 0," growled the hunter.

“ aybe,” was the laconic response.

“ Waal, we’ll see, an’ of yer wins this game,

_ I’ll try yer another 0’ a different kind.”

This was certainly no more than a threat,
and all seemed to understand it as such excepting
the Pilgrim Sharp. who very quietly went on
with the game, and at last, as he was about to
throw down the last card, which would make
him the winner, he held forth his hand on a level
with the face of his adversary.

Then the card dropped frpm his fingers, while
a quick movement of his deft fingers, suddenly,
drew from his sleeve a derringer, which cov-
ered the face of the hunter in a twinkling,
while he said in his drawliug way:

“I hes won, stranger, so what are that other
leetle game yer was goin’ ter learn me ter

play?“

 

CHAPTER IV.
comomno AN mmcrnn mu.
THAT Trumps, the hunter and gambler, was
fairly caught, not one of the train-men could

den .

Bye himself realized that most fully, and where
he had intended to have bullied the Pi! ‘m
Sharp into returning his money, he had gen
mastered most cleverly, and saw but one way
out of the scrape. _

' A borderman, when taken at a disadvantage
is generally very quick to acknowledge himsel
beaten for delays,” even of a second or two, are
most dangerous, and this Trumps knew full
well, so he said with as good grace as possible:

“Yer hev won that game, pard, and I takes
a back seat."

The Pilgrim Sharp instantly lowered his
hand, and laid the weapon before him while
he b?un to pocket his winnings, which were
oonsl arable. ,.

Seein that he wasaaipparently absorbed in

~ his wor ,aud taking v_antage of the confu-
sion now reigning about him. the young hunter
icklg dropped his hand upon his revolver to

raw .
But, like a flash the right hand of the Pilgrim ‘

Sharp shot out, and his iron fist fell square in
the face of the hunter, and with such stunning
force that he was knocked backward into the
crowd, his revolver fallinngrom his hand.

At the same time the ilgrlm Sharp arose

“Fluid: I’ll ba k to t

.-' on! ‘30 c rcam,aran rs-

but I’fiu see yer ag’in some other p easant egveeul
ingland yer kin hev some more fun with me.”

ithout another word he strode away, while

Trumps was gatherin himself up in a half~
dazed way, and swea n tobe aveu ed upon
the Yankee for the huml iatlon he ha 'brought
upon him. .

For a long time the Pilgrim Sharp was the
subject of conversation about the ‘camp fires;
but atlast the train-men sought their blankets,
and deep silence fell upon the blvouac. -

Half an hour thus passed ’in a stillness that
could be felt, and then a form was seen to rise
from beneath the shelter of litres and glide
Quietly away, out of the glimmer of the camp

res.

Then another dark form followed from an-
other point, and again a third, and a fourth
were seen.

Silently they left. the camp, and apparently
Ethout b01118 50911 by others, gaine its out-
: 'rts.

Making a detour the avoided the guards,
and struck off upon the ck trail toward Lea-
venworth.

As they emerged from the timber it could be
seen, by the starlight, that one of the secretly
moving quartette was none other than Trumps
the hunter. I ' ,

The others were his pards, and their destina-
tion the few words they uttered made evident.

“ Yer don’t think he hes stifle then in ther old
hues?” said one in a low tone, as they walked
along on the back trail.

“ No, I doesn’t,” answered Trumps, whom he
had addressed. ,

‘Yer see he, may play green, but he hain’t
no fool_ I’ll sw’ar.”

,wakiu’ u ,jist let him hev ther lead, fer

 

“ He looks it pard."

“Yas, and looks is most deceivin’, as I kin
sw’ar.

“Yer see, my idee are thet he hev got some
treasure in that old buss."

“ Treasure?" cried all in surprise.

“ Yas.

“ He may be carryin’ Government money ter
pity of! ther army that is gone ter fight ther

ormons.”

“ Thet are so,” said one.

“And he may hev struck it rich himself, and
be carr in’ his dust out ter whar he intends ter
settle; ut I doesn’t believe he hev got stifl's in
ther buss.”

“ So yer intends ter find out, Trumps?”

“That are jist ther size of it, pard.”

“ Will yer attack him squar’?

“'No, for some 0’ us w’u’d git hurted, fer he
hain‘t no slouch with weepins, I are sartin,
while ther hain’t a bull in ther outfit kin kick
harder than he kin hit, as I has reason ter
know.”

“ Yes, he laid you out cold for a minute,
Trum s.”

“ ell, he did, and I thought I had been struck
by lightnin“ but I are on ther trail 0’ revenge
and so ther blow he gi’n me don’t hurt so pow-
erful bad jist now.” '

“ Does yer intend ter drop him in his blanket,
as be are yin’, pard?"

“ Yas, and then we’ll see what ther buss has
got in it, an’ of it hain’t treasure, why ther
Pilgrim Sharp hev got dust enough ter pay us
for ther leetle work.”

Having thus decided upon their deadly and
devilish work, the four intended assassins went
on silently for some distance until a mile had
been covered, and they felt confident that the
Pilgrim Sharp must have gone into his solitary
camp in a clump of timber not far distant, and
which they knew was upon the banks of a small
stream.

Gaining the stream, they cautiously ap-
proached, and soon detected the glimmer of a
campfire that had burned low.

Nearer and nearer they crept, until soon they
saw the two horses staked out to feed, and
caught sight of the somber vehicle with its
ghastly load, backed u close to the fire.

Beneath it, the file ering firelight revealed
what appeared to be a human form rolled in
blankets and apparently slumber-lug sweetly,
notwithstanding is ghastly quarters. '

“ It are best not ter do no shootin’ if we don't
hev tor,” whis ed Trumps. '

“ Yas; it in ght be heard at ther camp and
give us away,” responded one of his villainous

allies.

“ Then we’ll jist sli in on him and do rther
biz with ther knife; ut of he shows si 1;) o’

ev
unidee t at be are a dangersome gerloot tar
r e. , .

Followin this advice, the four men crept
forward With the stealthy tread of panthers
stealing upon their prey.

Nearer and nearer, without a sound to break
the silence, until they were within thirty feet
of their intended victim.

Not a twig was trod upon, not a word was
uttered, and they halted, feeling that they had
all their own way, for did their victim move
then his death must instantly follow, for four
revolvers were held in four- merciless hands
ready to dispatch him:

Hark!

All started as a sound broke u n their ears.

More tightly they grasped t eir revolvers,
which were now thrust forward with aim.

They had heard a sound, and listening atten-
tively, soon discovered that it was nothing
more than a good snore.

Recognizing the sound, they breathed more
freel , and again moved forward, now draw-
ingt eir knives for the work in hand, yet still
he ding to their revolvers. _

Nearer and nearer the crept, the snoring
giving them assurance t at the sleeper slept
most soundly. '

But suddenly, with just such a. snort as a
good,healthy snorer will sometimes give, the
sleeper seemed to awake with a start, for the
blankets were seen to mOve violently.

Instantly four weapons. flashed together, and
a deep groan followed, as the quartette of as-

sassins sprung forward.

But hardly had the taken acouple of leaps

when, with a crash.‘ he doors of the hearse
were thrown open, ends. form clad in a shroud
sprung out and confronted them, the arms
waving them ofl'. .
With yells of terror the four villains turned
andgbounded‘ away through the timber, gomg
at a pace that was terrific, aud'not once looking
behind them to see the'spectel‘ that had con-
frohte‘d them in their deadly work. but only
anxious toregain their camp and safety.

.“CHAPTER V.
rams 'a’ncsrvns A‘ ear-men.
AGAIN: dfd the'wegbn train pull out of \camp,
thignmmng aftenxat‘lzga sheltezzflagedkin aggre-
o  tore], ron ”' y e t ing
3 angel) $4de sigma: p
Trumps and his three allies in the. plot for the

 

L.

l

l

 

assassination of the Pilgrim Sharp‘were on

‘ duty, yet seemed to look haggard and weary,

while they had little to say, the young hunter
being particularly sullen, a. fact set down by
the train-men to the bruises on his face at the
hands of the hearse-driver. ‘

Once within the shelter of the camp, after
their wild flight and fight, the four had talked
over the apparition, yet arrived at only one
conclusion, and that was that the dead wife
had come out of her cofl‘ln to avenge the death
of her husband at their hands.

That the ghost was that of a woman all
seemed to agree upon, as they had caught siuht
of a snow-white face and long hair, as the fire-
llght flickered upon the ghastly form.

DecIding to keep the affair a secret, they had
sou ht their blankets, but not to a single one of
of t e four would slumber come, for the mo-
ment they closed their eyes the hideous phantom
appeared before them.

Although worn out, for they had not recovered
from their dissipation and carousing in Leaven-
worth, they regretted to see night come on, and
kept close to the camp-fires as soon as they
flamed brightly up. _

After supper the train-men sought their re-
spective haunts, to enjoy a song, a game of
cards, a smoke, or a chat, and Trumps wended
his way to the head quarters. as the camp of
the wagon boss was called.

He hoped to get into a game of cards, and
thus drown his thoughts.

“ Captain Sam, as the wagon boss was called,
was always rough and ready for a game, lose
or win, and bade the hunter to sit down with
himself and several others who had come for a.
like purpose, while he added:

“I shu'dn‘t wonder of thet Pilgrim Sharpe
come inter camp ag’in ter night, and win our
leetle pile, pards.”

.Trum s shuddered, and glanced quickly owr
his shou der, as though fearin to see the host
of the Pilgrim Sharp, while feather Hoof the
guide remarked:

“ Waal, of he puts in, I draws out, fer tho’ I
can’t say as he cheats, he hes a way 0’ snakin’
in dust arter ther turn 0’ a game that makes
me gilt.” ] h

e sarting got t 8 game of! 0’ on
Trumps,” said Cyaptain Sam. y '

But the hunter made no reply and the game
was begun, played through, and Trumps was
the winner. ,

" Strangers, kin I get inter yer loetle game?”

All started at the voice, while the young
hunter, glancin over his shoulder uttered a
o of terror an bounded clear. over the guide
w 0 was in front of him, while taming quick~
ly, he was drawing his revolver when he saw
that he was already covered, and heard the
stern words:

“Sit down, thar, pard, and don’t act as tho'
yer hed seen a ghost.”

It was none other than the Pilgrim Sharp,
and by no means in ghostly form, but looking
his queer and natural self.

As the hunter’s trembling hand still clung to
his revolver, the Yankee continued :,

“ Drop thet wea n, stranger, and hev a
friendly game, for are lonesome over in my
camp, and jist come over on a leetle visit, and
dongwan'f‘ no troubling” - ' d d ,

es ramps, pu up yer- 11 an out
have no, foolishness, just becausegy‘hu got squar’-
ly beat at or own game. .

“ Come, wants peace in this heur camp, and
I intends to hev it, or thar’ll be cold meat
rouud_heur fer coyotes ter tackle,” said Captain
Sam, in a tone that all knew he meant.

“Weal, ca ’n, yer kin count me out 0’ any

ame with t at pilgrim, so let him take my

and, for I seeks my blanket I does ” and so.

saying the hunter turned upon his heel and
strode away. '

I “Yer must keep Syer eye on him, Pilgrim
pard,” said Captain am.

“ is he badl’ innocently asked the Yankee.

“Ther wust in ther deck and he means you
harm, I'm thinkin’, but of insulin in yet- chips
while yer is ther guest 0’ this camp, I’ll hev ther
boys h’ist him at ther and o’ a lanat.” ,

‘ I want te‘r know.”

" Waal. yer won’t know. but I’ll do it all the
same, of he kills yer.”

“Maybe I hed'better kill him and save trou-
ble, stranger.”

“No, I don’t want none 0’ that. only keep
yer eyes open, and don’t let him git ther drop
on yer for he’ll kill yer sart’in.” 1

‘ Like as not. '

” Now, maybe ’you’d like for play I‘ “Sue
game jist fer fun.

“ Yes, but you gits all ther fun.”

‘;’Like as not; but luck might cbflnfiey ma)"

“We’ll try it on anyhow of we go broke,"
said Ledther Hoof, the do£ and once more
the game‘was begun, an the rain-men, feeling
a doe er interest in the stranger and his play-
ing, 1; an in their own amusements, gut end
around to look on.

After playing. an hour the Pilgrim Shai-
areas. 88““ 3 Winner, tO'the chagrin or his a -
verso e

ri s. , : . *
“ ell, I’ll hunt my camp cap’n; but I'll give

t

l

' and yer went

The Pilgrim Sharp,

5

 

 

or another chance at me all along the trail,"

e Said, carelessly.

“’Tain’t no use, for yer'll hev every bit 0’
dust in ther hull outfit aforc we strike the
Platte; but yer is welcome, all the same,” said
Captain Sam disconsolatel y.

‘ Thankee, and I’ll be glad ter see yer back
in my camp, any night yer feels like enj’yin'

erself.”

y “ Enj’yin’yerself that?" asked Leather Hoof
in surprise.

“ Just as like as not, stranger."

“ With thet buss tharl”

“ Sart’in.”

“And ther stiffs o‘ ther woman and kid?"

“ Yes, they won’t hurt yer."

The old uide shook his head, while Antelope
Abe, the c ief hunter of the train, and who had
lost heavily to the Yankee, said:

" Ef it was ter win all yer bed got from us,
I'd not come thar, fer, tho I hain’t afeard ter
kill, when ther time comes ter hev it ter do, I
is scared 0’ dead folks, an’ ’spocially c’ wim-
min."

“Weal, cap‘n, you’ll come over some night,
and fetch along some 0' ther boys as likcsa leetle
game.

" I‘m dumed of I do, pard, speakin’ fer my-
self; but ther boys kin go over calliu‘, of they’ve
a mind ter.

“ But don't yer mind of some 0’ ther_lay_vout
returns yer visits, fer you kee a-comm’ right
along. and hev yer eye peele _fer thet limb,
Trumps, for he means yer mischief.”

The Pilgrim, S rt made no reply and took
his departure, wa king out of camp in a listless
kind of way, though a close observer might
have seen that he was ready for a surprise, and
had both eyes and ears wide open to every
tree, bush and sound, as though expecting an
enemy. ,

CHAPTER VI.

A WEIRD SPECTACLE.

WiinN Trumps walked away from the camp-
fire. Wllifl‘e thq Pilgrim Sharp had a eared,
greale to his horror, he at once sou ht is three
confederates in crime, and beckons to them to,
follow him. ,

It was unnecessary for him to tell, them that:
their suppos dead man was alive, for they
had already heard of the Yankee's arrival in.
camp, and were as nonplused about it as was.
Trumps. ' , v . r _ '

After the three had gotten out of Sight and
ear-shot of the outfit, they halted, and t, 6 lead-
er said quietly; . I

“Pards we missod him,"

“Yes, be are ovar thar, winnin’ dust from: f l

them as plays with him,” responded one.

“Yet we got in our lead in ther right place,"-' -

said another.
"Guessit wasn't him we shot at,” put in.

Tram r . .
xsw ho thong”; hi6.” _  _ V
ome par 0 , , .. I. , ‘
d.“dHe-,haip't goltdig pard, savia’dt be ther
ea womanan i. v _ h , 7,
“So he says, but I he hes,.fer ef'not”
who were it we kilt that were lyin’ under ther
buss?

“ Thet are so, pard Trumps: but I hesia idea;

thet ther gerloot hain’t human,” and the man
spoke in a whisper. . '

“ What in thunder are he then, Gill’.’ and all.
started at this horrible suggestion.

“ I hes heerd how ther devil, in olden .times,:
an’ went round ther earth, an, e

tuk men sha
darned ef
guise."

don’t believe be are Satan in dis-

“No, no them days flo’ superstitionhilt!1

passed ,” and Trumps shook-his.head to
show that such a thing could not be, ssible. . ‘
“You is ther best band at keer s, Trumps,
on this hour border_ hain’t yer?” asked man,
who feared that the devil was masquor ing in
the person of the Pilgrim Sharp.

“Yas, they say w atI can’t win on, squar',

I kin by flu erin’ ther keerds,” and Tmmpg‘

seemed gra ' ed by his reputation as a card
chea

5|
did veri’

“ No. he tuk ther pile.”

“Every timer!

“Yashev' “we.”

“ Yer 1,3118 lining on ther shoot, too, Trumps,
and ham " “0 baby tor handle nuther."

“ Yas, I are Worth suthin’ in ,1 mm”

“Ward, he got ther drop'on yer last night,

own under is blow same as a
ten- in under a ball.

u hen he doesn't carry no weepins, as any-
body kin see, but he has allus got’em at his
finger-ends when he nepds em, for Iseen his
row with Bruiser Dick. .

"And this makes yer
man?” ,

‘ Yas.” , ,
, «“I’II hev ter hev better proof 0’ what he kin
do, ’fore I believes it of him."

“ W331. it stands ter reason that a man who
drives a bus: out hour with two dead bodies in
it, 811’ does What he. do hain’t human in my
mind.” '

" H" a,“ '1 queer one, I admits; but I are now

think be are not hu-

t' . , :
as: well, yer didn’t wig nothing from hum,
1 ._ ‘4

, weirdoain isa

 

goin’ ter see what his camp are like when he
hain’t ther." said Trumps boldly.

“ Yer is?" gasped the three in chorus.

“ We is, for you goes with me, pards.”

This information did not seem to strike the
three villains thus selected for the exploring
expedition very favorably, as their silence
showed, and seeing it, Trum 3 continued:

“ Yer see, he are playiu’ eei‘ds now yonder
in ther lay-out, and it’ll be a clean two hours
afore he leaves camp, so we bus that time to find
his outfit and look through it.”

“But ther ghost?” whispered one.

“ Waul, we’ll see of ther is a ghost that when
he are away."

“ An’ ef thar be 3”

“Then 1 guesses we’ll make tracks ag’in fer
camp of we can't skeer the ghost."

“ Sheer ther ghost, Trumps?

“ ls yer one clean mad?’

“No, Gi . I hasn’t; but I wants ter find out
about this Pilgrim, an’ I are willin’ ter be skeert
ag’in ter do so.”

A short argument prevailed upon his comrades
to accompany him, and Trumps led the way
toward the camp of the Pilgrim Sharp.

A short march soon discovered the camp sit-
uated in a clump of half a dozen trees, and out
upon the open prairie.

The hearse loomed u dismally in the gloom,
the horses were visib e, staked out near by,
and a fire was burning, though not brightly.

Throwing themselves down upon the ground,
the four men began to creep toward the lonely
camp. I

It was slow work, for, though they knew that
the Pilgrim Sharp was back at the outfit, they
still had a holy dread of any one who might re-
main as guard, if guard there was, over such a
ghastly camp, and the horror of having seen J.
ghost th'e night before still dwelt most vividly
in their minds.

After some minutes passed in crawling toward
the camp, they halted and'at no great distance,
while they took a deliberate survey of the
camp.

The firefight caused the hearse to cast hid-V

eons, dancing shadows .u the prairie, and
made the fewtrees seem iii? grim giants.

It‘also revealed the fact than the blankets be-
neath the hearse were unoccupied, and they
drew ,a breath of relief at the discovery that
Ebert? was eVidently no guard to be encoun-
ere .

But what about the ghost? _

flihis was the question in the mind of each one,-
811‘

they kept their eyes upon the roarof the.

hearse with an attention that was almost pain-
u .

“ Penis, all are still, and there are no ghost. r,
'ist take this lay-out can’t wait for his comin'

30k. ‘ T
‘9 Come on!” and;Trumps arose to his feet and

' walked boldlyltowud the little camp. _
by the daring.

His comradearsainins mum
of their leader, quickly followe and themys
tery oftha hearse seemed within their..grasp,
the, sacral about to be sched’ within another.
mnu ._ mi xi. _

' but suddenly, out from behind a tree stepped

a dark object, and, passing “in the full glare of)

:the camp-tire, it came toward them.
' Then from their lips broke cries of horror,
and tottering they sunk upon their knees, while
the ob ct came slowly toward them.
‘ such an object!
It w (a, coflin, large. black, with its silver
clas a ong the sides, while in front. the glass
it 0 head was open, and a human face was
‘ iblothere. . ' . .. a .
But, strongest of all, the coffin was upright,
an? mo 9 slowly toward them. a
_ n‘ abject terror the four men
stunt; and then, springing to ,his feet with a
yell that went for across the prairie Trumps
darted away like a deer, his example being in-
‘etantly followed. by his comrades, who seemed
'jfgairly to fly rather than run in their frenzy of
831., r i’ ' . ,
For an instant the cabin halted its occupant
gazing after them apparently,  then it turn-
.ed and slowly retrained; its ways , , ,
p peering in the shadows of the

the elight.

CHAPTER VII. i
ran; THREAT.

Dars passed on andflstill the train continued
its much westward,v.and almost nightly the
Pilgrim Sharp made his visits to the camp. .

Some nights, “as true, he did not appear, and
on such occasions many a bullwhacker gave a
sigh of relief, for when he didcome he was cer-
tain to leave a Winner. _

The train—men swore each time that he was a
cheat, and that they would not play with him
again; but each time he put in an appearance
the temptation to try once more to win from
him was bevo their resistance. and they

trees beyond

l..

we
'Wit him. -

But though he almost invariably won, and it

was believed that he cheated, watch as. they

/

“’,l‘h'et.were a trick 0’ ther Pilgrim, so we’ll.

,I‘e

oveled an in- '

bank tombs. D

. 1d _soon find themselves engaged in a game

 

might they could never detect him in any under-
hand wor , and his good hands seemed but a
remarkable circumstance.

As for Trumps and his three comrades, they
avoided the Pilgrim Sharp as though he were in
reality none other than Satan.

That he was that alleged lioofed and horned
personage from Hades they now almost firmly

elieved, and since their last adventure, when
the behold a spirit walking about in its owu
co n, they had been silent and sullen.

The dared not report what they had seen, so
kept t eir peace, and at the same time watched
the Yankee sharply. ,

One night the train camped upon the Sweet-
water and soon after the Pilgrim Sharp ap-
peare , and as usual began to look about for
some one to fleece of his gold.

“Say, Pilgrim pard yer old buss must be
gittin’ heavy with dus , fer yer hes winned a
all-fired heavy pile out 0’ this outfit," said Cap-
tain Sam, who had gone dead broke some time
before and didn’t care how soon the others fol-
lowed his example, for true it is that “misery
loves company.

“ Waal, I hain't won so ver much, my friend,
fer ther boys hain't had sic aalmi ht sight‘
ter lose,” was the calm reply of the an ea.

“Waal, of this outfit hits ther army with a
dollar in ther pocket o’a man in it, I shell be
astonished a bit, I sw’ar.

“ But whar does yer expect ter pitch yer tent
in these parts, pard?" ,

“ I am lookin’ at out daily fer a opening.” .

"‘Well, if you homestead, or stake .. claim
hereabout, yer’ll git an opening darned quick, I
kin tell yer, and it’ll be a hole in the ground.

“I hain’t skeord 0’ any slch calamity, fer
who is goin’ ter hurt me!"

“ I’ll tell yer who'll raise yer ha‘r, an'thet
are ther Injuns.

“ Ef the don‘t, then thei Denites will.”

" Ther anites‘!”

“ Yes, ther Mormon Danites." ,

" Who is them, stranger?” , . .  ,

"Fellows as use a dozen-wives, kills folks do
hnin’t arried at sight, and who ther United
States I overnment hev sent Genoral‘Albei-t
Sydney Johnson out here tor lick out. ({1ng-
dom come.” ' I

" And they is fighting now 1” " y ..

“Ther army is near about Fort Bridger, on’
this train hes supplies that is goin’ ch'or
sojers.”' . .'

’iiiszniirtiir  ld b t h ‘ ' hi “
.,v . evxs 0 er; uwoxn un~
d' “3911i!!!” 1‘ y ‘

. be la r :- ark‘of the w b.1236; was
caused byétgeeirigna number “of hmm‘en'udding
intocamp. y,. _ . . I, ',

A moment after theywere discovered to be-
dra cons,.led by a young anddashi oflicer.

“ s this a Government supply- hint,” ,h.
asked Captain Sam‘as herodeup'anddrow
in. , a , . ~
“It are, lo’ot’neat.” returned the w u bog;
his quick eye‘ detecting the rank of gig: young
oflicer. , I. t .

f‘H'ave you any strangers in your
was the next ques on. T, ,

“No,loot’nent.’”  ‘ y  ,, ,'_. _ ,
fltzi’Ng onethat isnot connected with, your)“-
“Naryono,sir”'5’ ' “ ‘ I

“ And on the march here
no one has Joined you?"

:‘ls‘lo, sir.’ t' ‘I i h‘o‘.

‘ tran e myman, or am nsoarc -
ties who \Eei—e sup d tohave come west/3hr]:
your train,” and t a young ofllcer’s ‘face wore a‘

puzzled look. 4 . . ;
' they, loot’nentl”  Captain

" Who is

m. V. . ‘

{'Wen, my man. ism tell you that the
adopted dau hter of Colonel Lawyellyn was hid.
n'apped, or nveigled from her home in St.
Louis. and h a man who is none other than an
arch fiend, a unite.

“A courier arrived at Fort Bridger several
da s a o with the tidings, and a person who
to owe the trail of .the maidem,and her kid-
nap Yrsaid that he was confident thatthe .
towns hurryingher west.i sometrain '
bearing Government supplies, an I had orders
to come LDd see if I could find the lady and cap-
ture the devilish Danlte who had so cruelly de-

Y : campr'

gn- .

from . Leavenworth

, ceived her.”

“But of she’d only let ,it be knowed,,_loot’.
nent, thet she were bein’ run 01! with,.she’d
find. friends ter cm in for her and end his
days." said Captain am. ; , . - ._

“True, if she knew that he was deceiving
her; but from what news the colonel receive
from the courier it seems she had had no'reason
to doubt the man, and was evidentlyideceaved by
the story told her as to his intentionsiih taking
her from her home and friends.” ,l V

. “ Waal, 1 hopes yer may find ’em, sir." l

“I sincerely hope so; but you are sure no one
is with your train that does not belong to it
rightfully?” , ’ ‘. .‘

“I aresartin.”  , . .

,“You fergits me,stran er." r , : ' Q *

The speaker was none 0 her than the Pilgrim
Sharp, who had heardall that had so Land I
now stepped out into the full glare o the camp.

up"

6

The Pilgrim Sharp.

 

 

fire. confronting the young officer, as he stood
by his home.

The appearance of the Yankee brought an
involuntary smile to the face of the lieutenant,
who asked pleasantly:

" Well, my man, who are you?"

“ I are a stranger in ther train, sir; but I
guesses I don’t be ther feller you is lookin’ fer."

“ Who is this man. wagon-master?” and the
Ofilcer turned to Captain Sam, who answered:

“ We calls him ther Pilgrim Sharp, fer he are
a Down-Easter, an’ hes cleaned thergcamp out o’
dust, for he do handle a keerd most wonderfu‘
tor win.”

“ Where are you from, sir?"

“ Vermont, stranger, are my hum when I is
that; but I hev come West ter settle an’ grow up
with ther country.”

“ Ah! and you are with this train?”

“I is, an’ I isn’t.”

“ You told me there was no stranger with
your train, wagon-master.”

“ I forgotted him, and why I should, I doesn’t
know, loot’nent fer he hes got all my dust; but
ther fact is, he ain’t with ther train, and we is
all glad of it, for he do travel in most oncommou
style, an’ has his camp back on the trail a mile
or two.”

" Explain, sir, who and what are you?”

“ ankee,” was the calm reply.

“ And who are on traveling with?”

“ Sue and ther id.”

“ Who is Sue?”

“She is my wife, and ther kid are our leetle
one.

“ And where are they?”

" Back in my camp.’

" And who else is with you?”

“ Only thur horses and the hearse."

“The stage-coach, you mean?”

“ I means ther hearse. ” '

"Loot’nent, he talks squar’ fer ther woman
he calls Sue, an’ ther leetle one is both dead, an'
be are fetchin’ them West in a reg’lar out and
outer bone-wagon, intended ter settle hear an’
plant ’em near whar he stakes his claim.

“He wanted to travel‘in comp’ny with ther
outfit, but we c’u’dn’t stand thet, so he has in
ther rear, an’ at night comes inter camp era
lcetle game 0’ keerds.”

“ The poor man is mad,” muttered the emcer,
feeflagltyl; but aloud he said:

" e . my man, Iwill come to yourcampin
the morning and see you.”

“I’ll be thar, lootenant, an’ be

or, an’ show yer the bodies 0’ poor so an’ ther

‘ id,” was the response, and the Pilgrim Sharp

turned away leaving the wagon boss and oficer

talkie or.

But once out of sight of the two, and he darted
into the shadow of the timber, and stood watch-
ing them as they stood together in the glare
of the firelight.

Presently he half raised his arm, and extend-

‘ in i ran his e e alon the barrel of a revolver
8 ii, I B he am

he held in his hand, while in a low,

 

earnest tone: _

“ At last we meet again, my t Lieuten-
ant Eugene Crichton, and you 1 not thwart
me now, after all that I have gone through, and
dared to win success.

“ NJImGyou shall die, and may the devil guide
my b t straight to your heartl”

CHAPTER VIII.
m mun IN rim man.

Tn sudden change in the manner of the Pil-

grim Sham, from an apparently shrewd Yan-

tc a man of intense atred and revengeful
feelin , was a startling one.

He ad appeared to be one who loved gold,
revered the memory of his alleged dead wife
and child to such an extent that he was takin
their bodies with him to his new home, and the

he was capable of taking care 6f himself he had -

clearly ven.

But t at underneath all, there was a deep
secret, a history, and feelin of intensest pas~
sion and revenge, no one ha believed.

Had he been among men who were closer
students of human nature, than were the mem-

bers of the bull train of supplies, it might have

been discerned that he was a man With ahis-

tor .

3th such discove was not made, and Lieu-
tenant Eugene Cric ton, who had gazed upon
him but a moment intentl , supposed from
what'he heard of his eccent cities, that e was
a r, harmless madman.

tending as he did in the shadow, he held the
oung officer in full view, as he stood by his
horse by the camp-fire, talking to Captain S vm.

Onl twenty paces separated the victim from
the in ded assassin, and that the latter had
full confidence in his deadly aim was very evi-
dent, for otherwise he would never have riske
a shot there in that exposed place. -

Ere his finger touched the trigger, he glanced
around him, to see that the way was open for
his‘flight, and,as he did so, his arm was knocked
upward with a force that caused the revolver
to lode and a grip was upon his throat.

Bu the ' grim Sharp, though taken wholl
by surprise, was a man to extricate himse f
from a danger by quick and deadly means, and,
_while the revolvar of his foe covered him, for it

ladtersee'

 

was pressed hard against his side, his left hand,
in some mysterious manner found a knife, and
the lon , slender blade was forced into the
heart 0 the man who had thus come upon

im.

As the knife did its deadly work the Pilgrim
Sharp turned himself quickl , thus avoiding
the death—shot of his enemy, t e bullet tearing
his clothes, et failing to wound him.

The two shots, hardly of many seconds apart,
again alarmed the entire camp, and in an in-
stant almost Captain Sam and Lieutenant
Crichton had a rung to the spot.

There they discovered in. the shadow a form
lyin upon the ground, and the Pilgrim Sharp
stnnigling upright, one foot resting upon the
body of his eneui . and in his right hand a re-
volver, in his left his knife.

“Ho, Pilgrim, what in thunderation is yer
up tor?” cried Captain Sam, excitedly.

“I was coming back to your camp, cap’n,
when this gentleman sprung upon me, tried ter
shoot me, and didn’t do it,” was the cool reply.

“ Hal you have killed him,” cried Lieutenant
Crichton.

“Like as not,” was the calm repl .

“ Yer knife hev out clean through his heart,"
said Captain Sam, bending over the body.

“I want ter know,” was the imperturbable
answer.

Drawing the face further around until the
light fell upon it, Captain Sam cried out:

“ It are I‘ru .”

“Ye’s, but he didn't hold trumps in this

me.

The calm reply of the Yankee caused Lieu-
tenant Crichton to regard him more atten-
tiuivzly, and after a moment the young officer

“ Well, my mamas my being in camp laces
the train under my command, I must ho] you
for an investigation of this man’s death.”

“ He tried ter kill me, and I kllt him.”

“ That may be, but it is my duty to hold you
until a thorough inquiry is made.

“Here, sergeant, this man is your prisoner
until tomorrow morning,” and the omcer
turned to a sergeant, who with several dra-
goons had come up with the train-men.

“But what wil m r Sue and ther little
one do ’ithout me?" the Yankee.

“If they are dead, as you say. the will not
need you, and in the morning I wi l'see that
they are properly buried.

‘ Lead him away, sergeant, and see that he
does not escape. for that man is not the fool he
pretends to be.”

“ I'll guard him myself, sir,” re lied the ser-
Feant and steppingp to the Pilgi m Sharp, he

him own to t place where the dragoons
were bivouac ed, just be and the train camp,
while Ca in Sam, invi the officer to sup-
per with im, told him of t e trouble that had
occurred between Tnimps and the Yankee
gambler, and gave it as his opinion that the
can hunter had in reality attacked the eccen-

c gar.

“It ma be so, but somehow I believe that
man is aying a part, and I shall knowall
about tomorrow,” was the reply of Lien-
tenant Crichton.

CHAPTER IX.
m macaw.
Tin Dra Sergeant led the Pilgrim Sharp

tothe tree. which he had selected as his own
uarters for the night, and where a fire was
not be nning to bless up oheerily.

“ I w ll have to bind you, my man,” he said,
gazing upon the prisoner in surprise at his at-

re and general a nee.

“ I guess yar’d tter, for I’d walk 0! if yer
didn’t,” was the use.

“ How came you kill the man?"

“ Ohl he tried to kill me, and so I at ahead
of him,” indifferently responded the ankee.

“Ihope you can prove it, for you will fare
badly if you cannot.”

The Pi lgrim Sh made no reply, and will-
infilby hel forth his ands to be bound.

on his feet were securel tied together, and
the rope made fastto the as, after which a
blanket was thrown down upon the ground for
the prisoner to sleep upon.

Instantly the Pi grim Sharp threw himself
upon it, and declining the supper oflered him,
soon sunk into a. peaceful sleep, or at least ap-
peared to do so.

One by one the soldiers sought their blankets,
the camp-fires, in the dragoon bivouac and the
train encampment, burned low, and by ten
o’clock not a sound broke the silence of the
night, other than the occasional howl of a wolf,
or eat of an owl.

The sergeant, true to his duty, sat b the
campfire, on guard over his prisoner, wh is he
was reading by its light a well worn Bible.

His men were snoring soundly about him, and
behind him lay the bound prisoner.

Suddenly the head of the- Pilgrim Sharp was
raised quietly, and his eyes were turned upon
the sergeant as he sat within a. few feet of him.

Then the blanket was raised, and an arm was
thrust out to seize a. belt lying near, and which
held a revolver and the blood—stained knife

 

 

which had sunk deep into the heart of the hun-

her.

The belt was then clasped about the waist of
the Yankee, while the knife was used to free his
feet of their bonds,

So softly did the Pilgrim Sharp work that
not the slightest sound had reached the ears of
the sergeant, while his movements, concealed
by the blanket, seemed to be merely those of a
man in restless slumber.

Once free and with his arms, the Pilgrim
Sharp took a survey of the scene.

The fire was burning low, and upon the other
side lay in rows the score of troopers, and but a
dozen feet away.

The sergeant was still absorbed in his Bible,
and knew not that behind him was a fee who
meant him harm.

Softly the Sharp arose from his blanket, and,
with noiseless movement drew nearer to his un-
sus ecting guard.

e, knew well the danger he ran, for a sound
would awaken the soldiers, and perhaps even
then some one of them might be awake and
watching his movements.

Then too, the sergeant sat in the light, and a
sentinel some distance off, on guard from the
train mlght have his eyes turned in that direc-
tion.

But the Pilgrim Sharp seemed to feel that he
must take a] risks, and stealthin he crept to
the back of his victim.

Then there came two quick motions together,
for one hand seized the throat of the doomed
soldier while the other drove the already blood—
stained knife into the back, and straight for the
heart to kill.

So iron-like was the grip upon the throat, and
so well-aimed was the thrust of the knife, that
not a sound came from the lips of the poor so]—
dier, who was dead ere the murderer let go his
hold upon him.

Then the body was raised, and m... an ease
that showed the wonderful stren h of the as
sassin, and quickly laid upon the lanket by the
tree and covered over carefully. '

Not the eighth of a minute was spent in his
deadly wor and the hiding of his crime for
awhile; and then, like a shadow, the Pilgrim
Sharp glided away amid the trees.

He had reached the outskirts of the timber,
when suddenly he was confronted by the train.
guard with: .

“ Waal, who is yer, pardi”

The Pilgrim She was in the shadow of the
trees, the uard in starlight, and the former
recognize him in an instant as a border who
answered to the name of Gil, and the particular

pard of Truth

“ gay, Gil, 35;: here, for I has suthin’ tor show

yer.
“I are hunk,” he whispered. “ ’Tain’t a
ghost, I hope pard, for I are oncommon nar-
vous for-night, since that Yankee devil hilt poor
Trum ,” answered the herder, as he stepped to
the si e of his , friend.

It was the last act of his life as, for the third
time that ni ht, the knife of the Pilgrim Sharp
was sheet in a human heart.

Bntin his death-egos: the border managed
to free his throat from t e steely clasp upon it,
and gave vent to one long. loud shriek of de-

spair and anguish.
Hurling him to the und, the Pi] in Sharp
bounded away with 1: speed of a car, while

instantly the camp of the supply-train and the
bivanac of the soldiers was in a general

Men sprung to their feet, and grasping their
arms, stood ready to meet a foe.

fuls of wood were thrown upon'the dy-

ing fires, causing them to burn up quickly and

make all about the encampment as bright as

da .
gut no one could tell from whence had
come the wild cry, or what was the cause of

a arm.

Lieutenant Crichton, who had slept up at the-
cam of the wagon-master, at once said:

“ nd a patrol around to visit your guards,
and I will do the same, wagon master. Then
come and report to me.”

Hastening OR to his cam , while Ca tain Sam
and Leather-Hoof, the gu de, made t e circuit
together, the youn officer found his men under
arms, and everyw ere searching for the ser-

geant. I

£then did you see him last, corporal?” he
as e . '
“ He was sitting by the fire, sir, reading his
Bible, when I Went to sleep,” answered the cor-
pora .

“ And have none of you man seen the ser—
geant since i”

“No. sir," was the reply of all.

“Who is that lying there?”

“ The prisoner. sir.

“He has not been disturbed by the cry,” said
the corporal. _

Stepping to the side of the muffled form Lieu-
tenant Crichton threw aside the blanket, and a
cry of horror broke from his “lab

‘ Great Godl It is Sergeant we!”

“ And dead, sir!” cried the corporal.

“Yes, stabbed in the back, and by that ac-
cursed Yankee.

jr-hé 4.». ‘

“flu

\

urva

The Pilgrim Sharp.

7

 

 

“Men, you must have slept like the dead, to
allow this murder to be committed within a
few feet of you,” steruly said the officer.

“It must have been the sergeant’s cry that
awoke us, sir.”

“No, the devil’s work here was done silently,
and he covered n his tracks by placing the
sergeant upon his b anket.

“ Come, men, We will go to the camp of the
murderer, for thither he will first go——- He!
what have you there, wagon-master!” and Lieu-
tenant Crichton turned toward Captain Sam,
who approached with Leather Hoof, the two
bearing a dead form between them.

“It are another stiff, sir, and its Monk ther
harder o’ ther outfit!”

“Yes, and he too has a knife thrust in his
heart, but in the left side, while my poor ser—
geant got it in the back.

“See, he still clutches the Bible he was read-
ing when the sccursed assassin struck him.

“ But come, I have no time to lose, for I pure
sue the prisoner at onco, and I wish a guide to
his camp. " -

“What prisoner, sir?” asked Captain Sam,“

amazed.

“ The one you called the Pilgrim Sharp, and
deemed so harmless if left alone.” _ _

“Yer don’t mean that he has did this red
work, loot’nenti”

H I do i,

“Who’d ’a.’ thou ht it? _

“Wanl, waal I go With yer myself, and
you come too, 1' 300*-

“Wo’ll it our horses, loot’nent, and be with
yer," and astening back to their camp the two
men were soon mounted, and rode awn on the
back trail, followed by Lieutenant richton
and a dozen of his cavalr men, one and all
anxious to capture the Pi grim Sharp, and
avenge thou whom he had slain.

CHAPTER X.
A worm.

IW'ILL now return to the night upon which
Trumps and his three companions in sin, made
their second attempt to so vs the secret of the
Pilgrim Sharp, and at the same time enrich
themselves from the booty which they supposed
he was carrying in the hearse.

Upon reachfilais lonely camp that night, the
Pilgrim Sharp noticed that the rings of
the dismal hearse needed bracing, an conse-
quently he had at once removed the load that it

First, he drew out a coffin of vast sine, and
the foot end of which was 0 n, while the up-
pe'Riart of the lid was also 0 .

at there was a human form in the ghost]
box there was no doubt. for a face was visib e
in the 11 per part, and feet were revealed
through t e open end.

 

Then, too the come seemed v heavy as
thcPil m him-puma it to tho um! and
a back in the shadow of the stand-

in on end. ‘
ext came out of the hearse a side-saddle,
then a roll of blankets, and several haze-s, evi-
dently containing 1y‘in‘rovisions, after which a
con lc of carpet sac
aving mended his ngs, the Pilgrim
Sharp seemed too anxious reach the camp of
the supply train and. indulge in his favorite
sport 0 gambling, to replace the things in the
hearse that night, so he departed, leaving the
covered vehicle empty for the time.
had been gone but a short while, when a
low moan came from the grim box leaning
against a tree beyond the fire-light in the sha-

dow.

Then the coma seemed to quiver, and a voice
cried out:

“ 0h Godi where am If”

A silence of an instant followed, and then in
tones of anguish, and in a woman’s voice, were
the iteous words:

“Ibis is a coma that I am in, and I have been
buried alive I” _

Again a silence, and once more the anguish-
wruu tones Were heard:

“ o, no, 1 am not buried alive, though this
is oertainl a coma that I am in.

“ I will urst of! the lid and free in self from
310%.Mmc embrace, for thank G , 1 yet am

vc

She seemed to struggle hard then to break
forth from her hideous prison, for the coffin
shook violently.

But the eflort was useless, though the struggle
seemed‘to show her that her feet were free.

Pressmg them hard u n the ground, she
made an effort, and st upright, though the
black box swayed _to ,and fro, as though its
occu nt tattered With weakness. ‘

“ trsnge, that my feet are free,”groaned the
woman, and then came once more the pitiful
“7’ If” ‘
. ‘Oh God, where am

For a moment she stood thus, and then, dared
in mind, suflering in body, she tottered toward
the camp-fire.

It was just at this moment that Trum and
his pards came in sight, and were born ed at
the sight of the walkin coffin. ,

She saw the men, an though saccor seemed
at hand, her tongue could utter no cry. ,

I . 0

,... flung .‘ “,1  .,

 

She staggered forward to meet them, her
brain dizzy, her heart throbbing violently, and
then, as the four men s rung to their feet and
bounded away, she fell orward in a swoon.

It was not ong after that the Pilgrim Sharp

keen eyes fell upon the dark object lying upon
the ground.

In an instant he sprung toward it, turned it
quickly over, but no words came from his lips.

Thrusting his hand into his pocket he drew
forth a key, and at once the lid was unlocked,
the form removed and carried to the die.

As he placed the limp form down upon the
roll of blankets, the eyes of the poor woman
slowl opened and fell upon the face bending
over er.

“ Who are you?

“Where am I?”

The questions were asked in a faint voice, and
the eyes seemed striving to read his very soul.

As she lay there, half upheld by him, the fire-
light fell full upon her, revealing a face that,
though white as marble, and haggard, was yet
of wondrous beauty.

Every feature was cast in a perfect mold,
and the form, from the top of her hau hty
head, to her small, shapely feet, was one 0 ex-
quisite outline and grace. '

About her form was a shroud, and her wealth
of rich brown hair, hung down her head in
abandon.

“You are safe, for I am your friend," an—
nounced the man in a low tone. 7

“ Let me remember! help me to recall all that
has ha pened, for it seems I'have been believed
to be sad, and was in my coflin."

“ My poor rl ou were supposed to be dead,
and I am g see that you are yourself
again.”

“ Your voice I know; but who are you?”

“ Your friend.” ,

“ That does not answer me.”

“ What more would on know i”

“ Ivgeué‘embgr that leftlehoin‘f, to go to th:
Far es an 'oin my unc an guardians a
the fort, where c was stationed.”

“Y and do you remember whom you left
home w thi” asked the Pilgrim Sharp.

“Yes, a man I did not like, though he was
my uncle’s half-brother.

‘Hedidnot seem tome to be atrue man,
and I had heard many stories of his wild life;
but I trusted him, when my uncle wrote to
%:lto”come to him under the care of Rufus

e.

“ And you remember no more?” .

“ 0h, yeshwe reached a small town in His-
souri and t are I was taken ill, and that is the
last I remember.

“ Where are we now!”

“ 0n the Overland Trail to Salt Lake.”

“ Ab! and I have been brought here in a cof-
fin?” and the girl shuddered.

“Yes. Miss Leroy." '

“You know my name thoni”

-“Yes,IknowyoutobciflssLou Le the
mace and ward of Colonel Lloyd Lexi ,”
was the answer. .

“And whom youP’snd the maiden raised
herself to a sitting tion, while she added:

“ How ver was I am.

“Yes, on ve lain in a trance for delays.”

A n he maiden shuddcred and ask :

“ lit who are you?”

“ 1 am Rufus Yale.

99
,snd gonad earnestly into

Lou Lero Its
the face the 100 into her own.
Then she said :’
“Yes, now that you tell me who you are, I

recognize you.
“ ut why have you shaved of! your board,
Mr. Yale, and assumed this strange disguise!”

“I will tell you, Miss Leroy.

“ When you were taken so suddenly ill, I,
with others, believed that you died.

“I did not wish to bur you in that lonely
place, so I conceived the den of carrying your

odv on to your uncle.

.“You were prepared for the grave, by the
kind nurse I had secured for you, and procurin
a coma and hearse, I started westward wit

you.

“ Something seemed to tell me that you were
not dead, an so I broke out the foot of the
coffin, and the upper part of the lid, to give
you a current of air, and, thank God, I have
saved our life thereby.”

. Aga n the lovely form shuddered, while the
lips uivered as she asked:

“ ut why this disguise you wearl”

“ To enable me to come West un uestioned.

“ I pretended to have been an un ertaker in
my native town, and emigrating West, told the

curiously inclined that I was bringing the body‘

of my dead wife and child to my new home,
for they were all I had to love.

“I was looked upon as an odd, half-crazed
character and was left unmolested and am now
on route to the fort where you wil meet your
uncle, and the young oflicer to whom -I belleve
You are’ engaged.”

ush crossed the marble-like face, but only
for‘sn instant, and then the miden asked:
' But what was the nature of my illness, for
I remember nothing after being seized with

 

a faintness after partaking of supper at the
tavern!” ~

“ I know only that you seemed to die, and
that the doctor I called in said that it was

‘, heart trouble.
came into his camp at a swinging walk and his

“ But now you are yourself again, and the
trip will build you up, though by day, to carry
out my disguise and story in case we meet wit
trains, I shall have to ask you to ride in the dis-
mal vehicle in which I have brought you here.”

“No, no; it would drive me mad,” she
cried.

“Wait until the morrow and sec, i'rr I be-
lieve it is our only means of safety, as this trail
is infested with roadegents; but the would
never dare to halt us as we appear on t 0 road.

“Now, you are weak, and must give you
some food and a swallow of wine to strengthen
you, and, in your joy at your restoration to life,
forget that you were in a trance and you will
soon be yourself again, Miss Leroy."

She shook her head sadly, but made no reply
to him, for it was evident that the horror of
her situation had sunk dee into her soul, as
burying her face in her ban 3 she moaned:

“ Oh, God! through what have I not passed?”

CHAPTER XI.
A WOMAN u BAY.

ALONG the trail of the Overland, toward the
far frontier, the hearse followed in the rear of
the supply train. the poor girl forcing herself to
act the part which her strange companion bade
her play, as the only means of safety for them.

To her he was all respect. yet he was firm in
his resolve that no act of hers should endanger

them.
He had told her that a train was on ahead,
at so pictured those with it that he dared not
et her presence be known to them and that he
must keep up the holy horror he had inspired:by
his hearse and strange story. '
He had made her as com ortable as possible,

 

' in spite of her dismal surroundings, and she

silently obeyed his requests, for something told
her that they were coinmauds under the guise
of liteness.

pan the night when the three tragedies oc-
curred in the encampment of the supply train,
one so uickly followin upon the heels of the
other, u Leroy was a one in the dismal camp,
two miles back on the trail from where the
teams had halted for the night.

She was not lonesome, for she had gotten cc-
customed.to beln alone, and really preferred
that the Pgldgrim srp should be absent,

She c up snddown before the flickering
camp— checrless, yet not wishing to gve up
hope, an trying to wonder wh Rufus ale.”
she knew her csifitm, kept 1151. this mystery.

Her sudden non, ‘and horrible trsn
that followed, she could not comprehend

But he had come to her with letters from her
uncle and inn, and also bmufitjto her a
tender in v0 from one whom she learned
to love with all her heart. ‘

Those letters had told her that Rufus Yale
would bring her to Fort Bridger _wherc Colonel
Lewellyn and her lover were stationed with the
army, then preparing to move against Belt

Lake City

Shchsdsntioi tsdslon hardtrlpofit
over the overl trails, frag t with

a if...“ ‘ii‘i. hcr'ot till “ms

er en w u a e t.

A short while in and the hideous night
mare,“ it seemed her must ond- but she
feltasinkingofthesoulw onsbctiicdtohope
for the best. ' '

Suddenly she started, stopped in her walk,
and listened. .

She heard the rapid approach of feet.

There were arms near, and she knew well
their use, while the Pilgrim Sharp had told her
to defend herself if any one" approached the

cam in his absence.
ng a rifle, she step back in the shadow
of a tree, and st ready.
But t 9 next instant the form of the Pilgrim
Sharp dashed into view.
He was pantin from his long and rapid run,
and called out “1 ckly: V
“ Miss Leroy
“ Where are you?” _
" I'm here, sir,” and she stepped into View,
fl“ Quick! for we must fly from here,“ he
c

r threatens me now?” she said de lri l .
86“A great one, and one which smitsngfyno

delag." .
“ ut tell me the nature of the threatened
dangers?” > .

Be paused, his face slightly changed its ex-
pression, and she saw it.

“ Tell me 1" she said, sternly.

“ There are Indians swarming upon us,” he
said, with hesitation.

She seemed to read it in his face and words
that be was not telling her the truth, and she
answered: _

“ Are on sure that Indians are what we now
have to read!”

“Of course, for I have been fired upon and
chasedb them.

“ Qnic , get your things together, which you V

.

ed. ,
“Oh, Heaven, have mercy! What new dan~ ‘

I

8.

 

 

The Pilgrim Sharp.

 

 

 

can carry on horseback, while I Saddle the ani
mals, for We must leave the hearse behind us.”

“ Thank God for that blessing, at last," she I
murmured. l

“You must hasten, Miss Leroy, for the need
is most pressing,” he urged.

“I have little preparation to make, for my
sachel is here, and I have but to slip on my
riding-skirt,” she said sadly.

He sprung away from her, seized the bridles
and saddles, and five minutes after led the
horses up near the fire, prepared for the jour- I

 

ne .

The carpet-bags were then fastened to the
saddles, the rest of the traps thrown upon the
fire, and seizing hold of the somber hearse, the
Pilgrim Sharp said grimly:

‘ Now it shall perish too."

“ What do you mean?" she asked.

“ I shall burn it.

“ Stand aside, please!”

She stepped to one side, and he wheeled the
hearse back over the fire, and the flames at once
leaped up about it, sending forth acrackling
sound like a battle with revolvers.

“ Now when the soldiers come, they shall not
find this hearse as a trophy of their victory," he
said imly. .

f‘d he soldiers did you say, Mr. Yale?” she
crie .

He saw that he had spoken without thought,
and she detected in his face that she was being
deceived, and (piickly said:

“ You said nations were what we had to
fear, when you first came, and now say that
soldiers are coming.

“ Oh, sir! tell me what all this means?"

“ Bah! it was a mere slip of the tongue.

“I meant Indians, Miss Leroy, and, if you
delay in mounting, you will find how cruel
those red skins can be, for we cannot hope to
cope with them.

" Come, I will aid you to your saddle l" _

He stopped toward her as he spoke, when she
waved him back, and suddenly seized the rifle,,
standing at the tree near her, and covered his'
heart, while she cried in ringing tones: ‘

“Back, sir! 67‘, I will send a. bullet through
your heart I” ’

_.

CHAPTER XII. '
rim GRAVE IN ran TIMBER.

WHEN Lieutenant Eugene Crichton dashed
out of the can)? of the supply train, there was
a feeling In h‘ s heart, that'he had struck the,
right trail to solve the mystery of Louise Le-"
to _’s disa earenoe from home. “ , V

f the il'grimShsrp, had not somevmost.
tent reason for makin his escape, why had

6 taken such desperate c ancesto do so?

Then, although he had been almost nightly
with theltram, his. foe, Tram , had not taken
any 0 portunity before to kil bim,,and only,
accor ingto'the report of the Pilgrim Sharp,
had done so upon that evening. _ V . '

“ There insome in story about the man, and
I thallsolve it,” mut ed‘ the'young’ officer, as
he rode along. ‘ . . ,

An owner coming West with his wife, had
been commissioned by Colonel Lewellyn to‘
bring his niece. th him, and, for that par 9
had sought her ‘ ome né‘ar St.,Lonls, to find hat
she had, de :a‘rted under strange circumstances

thedaybepro. _  . :

He knew, upon ' ' ing,,the facts, that there
must he smoothing, 1-0 for as the bearer of,
dis , has direct from art Bridger, and the

one to leave there, he felt assured that no
other! instructions had been given by Colonel
Lewellvn, and what was worse, when he learn-
ed who it was that had acted as the escort of
Louise Leroy, he was aware that she was in
the power of a most dan erous man, though he
was the step-brother of t e colonel.

Instantly be dispatched a courier, with full
reports, to Fort Bridger, while he followed on
more slowly with his wife, and these di stches
were the ones that had so a] med olonel
Lewellyn, and sent Lieutenant richton on the
sesrchlfor the kidnapped maiden. '

Though the officer did not expect to find
Louise Leroy with the strange man calling him-
self the Pilgrim Sha ,he yet hoped to un-
earth a villain, and id not doubt but that
there was some deep mystery behind the ac-
tions of the eccentric genius who traveled the
Overland Trail on the box of a hearse.

“He me. be some Mormon oflcer with im-

ortant ispatches. or gold, for Brigham

oung,” be said to Captain Sam.

“It do look queer ther way he hev acted,
loot’nent.

“ Yer see he are a iron man for strength, an’
be are dead sure with ther revolVer every shot,
while, as fer gamblin’ he kin jist tam ter,
trumps every tune, same as a person who is
g’eac in’ gospil, kin tam ter a verse 0‘ scriptur’

e wishes ter shout out at tber bretheren.

“ He are queer, an’ no mistake."

“Well, wagon-master, we will soon solve the
mystery, and I wish to take him aliva for fu-
ture reference. 3

“Do you think his camp can be far away
now?"

“No, sir, fer I reckon we hez come about a
milean’ a half— See tharl”

 

“It is the light of a camp-fire,” answered
the officer, looking in the direction the wagon
boss indicate d, and where the glimmer of alight
was visible oVer against a Steep hillside some few
hundred yards distant.

“It are fer a fact, an’ thar we‘ll find ther
Pilgrim Sharp, of he bain't lit out.”

“ He cannot travel fast with a lumbering old

. hearse, Sam.”

“ Thet are so, an’ he do love it; too much ter
leave it. '

“ Waal, we’ll soon know.”

Approching the camp at a gallop, for the
blazing fire now came into full view, the tree ers
soon drew rein in a semicircle, and gaze in
amazement upon the scene which met their

' VIEW.

The campfire was there, but the .material
that fed it was nearly consumed, yet sufficient
remained to show those who beheld it that the
hearse had gone up in flames.

Then, too, here and there were the charred
remains of a box, a huffalo~robe and other
things which had evidently been among the con-
tents of the hearse.

Yet nowhere was the Pilgrim Sharp visible,
nor an other human being. ‘

The orses, too, which had drawn the dismal
vehicle. had disappeared, and it was evident to
all that thecam i was deserted.

But Leather 60" and the soldiers separated
to make a thorou h search. and soon the voice
of the guide was eard calling out:

“ I hev made a diskivery loot’nent.”

Having already dismounted, Lieutenant
Crichton walked rapidly down the hillside
where the guide stood, and soon all were gather-
ed about him.

It was a grave, freshly made, that he had
found.

“ Who can be buried there, said the lieutenant,
wonderingly.

“ I guesses arter his red picnic u at ther
camp he concluded thet ther best ok pation he
c'u’d be in were levantin’ out 0’ this, an’ so he
roasted his old buss, buried his dead Sue an’

that kid, an” hes lit out on top 0’ one 0’ his aniw’

miles, leadin? t’other one, packed with what

lunder he o’u’d carry along handy,” suggested

aptai'n‘ Sam.

“I guess you are, right, Sam; but I shall see'

what this grave contains,” responded the lien-
tenant. ' ‘

{KIt are bad luck '0’ therawfulest kind, loot’-
nent, tor dig open a grave from cur’osity," said
the guide. , I ,

“.I’ll take the chances, guide, on that.

,“‘ Here, men, get to work and throw the earth
out of this grave," was the response.

The troopers promptly obeyed and had dug
but a shortdistance when the point of a saber
struck a hard substance. ‘

’ “ It but a holler sound like a cofiin,”.said
Captain Sam. , '

Eugene Crichton made no reply, but atten-
tively watched his men, and soon the top of a
coffin was exposed.

A bowieoknife served as'a screw-driver, and

the upper partvof thalid was removed; a torch
from t eflre was brought and ‘all gazed down
upon the'white, dead face of a woman, one
hand laid upqn her breast. ’

The‘face seemed strangely life like, and by
ger side, sheltered upon her left arm,'nestled 5.

ate. ’

In silence, and with uncovered heads, all
stood gazing‘down upon the and sight, while
Captain Sam said soft y:

“The Pilgrim Sharp did tell ther truth, for
there be sartinly his poor Sue an’ her babe, and
£1: hev. desarted ’ein here, arter bringin’ ’em - so

1'. --" ' ‘

“This but adds to the myster , Sam, for I
{git assured that the'comn hel

rm.

“ Corporal, lace the cover and fill up the
gravte, for thythrows me wholly of! of the
scan .

“Then go to the train camp and bring my-
other men, and at daybreak we will strike the
trail of the Pilgrim Sharp,” said Lieutenant
Crichton, and it was evident that he was be-
wildered by the discovery of the contents of the
grave.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
THE JEW AND THE COURIER.

SINCE the night upon which Louise Leroy
had returned to consciousness, after her long
trance, the tactics of the Pilgrim Sharp had un-
dergone a change. ‘

Any one following upon the trail of the
hearse, would have observed that at each Icamp
a grave had been dug, and then filled in be-
fore departure. _

In fact, the first thing that the Pilgrim Sharp

‘ did, after unhitching and staking out his horses.

was to go some few rods ofl! from the camp, and
set to work digging a grave.

‘ And this he did at every camping- lace, as
was soon discovered by the persons w 0 were
followin upon the trail.

One 0 these persons was an individual of
striking appearance, fer he was a Jew, with a
face so strongly marked with the Hebrew
stamp as to be almost ludicrous in expression.

no human ‘

 

 

He had twinkling eyes, full of shrewdness,
and a eneral look that indicated money mak-
ing to e his paramount object in life, while he
looked stranfgely timid for one who was willing
to risk his li e and wares, for he was a peddle r,
in that wild land.

He was dressed in a pair of checked pants top
boots, and a buckskin coat, While his head was
covered with a coon skin cap that added to his
peculiar makeup and ludicrous appearance.

About his waist was a belt with a. bowie~
knife and three Colt‘s revolvers, while at his
back was slung a rifle known as a Mississippi
yager, a very Serviceable weapon, and much in
use on the border twenty-five years ago.

He was mounted upon a sorry looking animal,
and his saddle was weighted down with leather
and buckskin bags filled with his wares, while
behind him followed a large mule bearing a
pack, the size of which would have brought the
immortalized Bergh down upon the Jew with
the charge of cruelty to animals.

But the mule did not seem to mind his load,
for be cropped the rose along the trail as he
followed upon the heels of his master’s steed,
and seemed to enjoy the freedom that was
given him.

By the side of the Jew rode a young man who
was certainly not over eighteen.

His face was frank, fearless, resolute tc (‘ar-
ing, and he looked just what he was—a border
boy capable of taking care of himself under any
and all circumstances. ’

He was well~formed, wiry, had an eagle eye,
and seemed ever on the scent for danger, a
habit acquired by his life of constant peril.

He was clad in buckskin, wore a black som-
brero and cavalry boots, and behind his saddle
was rolled up an army overcoat and blanket.

He was mounted upon a roan more that
seemed full of go, with great staying powers,
and his arms were a Mississippi yager and belt
containing revolvers and a bowie.

This seemingly ill-matched pair had met on
the trail, the young man being a bearer of dis-
Batches from Leavenworth to Fort Bridger, and

aving overtaken the Jew as he Was plodding
along the Overland, following after the supply
train. .

To enjoy company the Jew had quickened his
pace, and, finding that be had an amusing com-
panion, the youth had been willing that they
should travel together, for he knew that is
good ronn' would carry him through on time.

As the supply train was of course traveli
slow, the two on some day would pass two 0
its camping‘p'laces and once or twice had
jumlpcd by three of them. .

0 course the eculiarity of a small camp, al-
ways to be found’a. mile on so in the rear of the
larger one, did not escape the quick vision of the

oung platinsmanl and it set him to thinking.

Then the discove of a rave at each camp-
ing-place, where t e tra I showed that the
hearse had eiicamped, caused him to feel that
something must be wrong. '

“ You ish named Dave, I .perlievesl" said the
Jew, one evening as the two went intocamp,
where several evenin s before the Pilgrim
She had made his be t for the night.

“ es, my name is Dave—Dave Harrin ton,
as I have told you every day for a wee or
more, my Hebrew friend,” answered the young
dispatch-bearer, with a smile.

“ Dot ish so, out my names ish Buckskin
Moses,” replied the Jew. .

“ Y our name was Moses Something-I couldn’t-
getcnto—with-my-tongue, so I called you Buck-
skin Moses, and it fits you: and if you go to
Bridger with me, I’ll go the army chaplain to
baptize you by that cognomen.”

‘No, I don’t pe paptized, my frint; but I
takes t’e name.” ‘

“ Well, Buckskin Moses. what nice remark
were you about to give utterance to when you
asked for the hundredth time my name?”

“ I van going to say, mine fruit Dave, dat if
t’ey keep: on buryin’ eoples out o’ thet train on
ahead. t et no live to ks will git to Fort Praet-

hes.
“Fort Bridger, not Breeches Buckskin Mose.
“ But you are right; only this burying busi-
ness does not seem to' be from the train."

“ Isb dat so?”

“ Yes, for no graves are tobe found at the
su ply-trains’ encampment, but all are at the
lit le camp where the. ambulance, or whatever
it is, encamps every night.

" Now see, there is a grave, and my word for
it, more will be found at the halting-place of
the train, when we pass it tomorrow.”

“ It ish very strange, mine poy frint.”

“Yes, it is so very strange, that I intend to
sail into this grave." .

1‘; 3I;Ioly lsaacsl you don’t intend to pury yer-
e .

“ Oh, no, but I intend to see what lies under
that earth.

“You look after the horses and make a fire,
while I set to work throwing out the dirt, for I
have a curiosity to view the remains."

“Vell dot ish goot.” and the Jew did as he
was told while. aided by the last glimmer of
twilight have Harrington be an to throw the
earth out of tbegrave, using is knife and stir-
rup for the purpose.

 

 

9

 

CHAPTER XIV.
RUN T0 EARTH.

Bucxsxm Mosrzs having staked the horses
out to feed, and kindled a me where the light

'would fall upon the grave, went and stood

where he could watch Dave Harrington in his
work.

“ Vell, ish you fint t’e pody?” be asked, as
Dave stopped digging for an instant.

“Not yet.”

“ lt might no a bcoples mit t’e small-pox,”
suggested the J ew.

‘ I’ll risk it, Buckskin Moses.” _

“You ish yoong yet, and you might catch up
mit t’e measles."

“I’ll take chances on all I catch, Moses; but I
see 1 am down to hard-pan.”

“You ish flnt a hard-puns?”

“No, I um down to bed-rock."

“ Bet-rocks? _

“ Dit you expect to find a pod mit fetters iii a
grave. mine frint?"

“ I mean 1 am at the bottom of the grave.”

“ Dut ish so. And you don’t ish fint t‘e
coffin?"

“I wasn’t looking for a Coffin; but I was ex-
pectin to find a body.” _

“Ve l, vell; it hash peen Resurrection Day
mit t’e pollics.”

“No, Moses. for there was no body here."

“D an whv for the grave pe tug?"

“That is jusl wha I want to now, Moses.”

“If I was know, I vas tell you pretty tam

i .5,

u“I don‘t doubt it; but I will soon know what
this does mean, for I’ll open a grave or two
more as we go along."

The two comrades then set to work preparing
their frugal supper, and after a comfortable
night‘s rest, went on their way once more, halt—
ing at the next camping-place of the Pilgrim
Sharp.

Again did Dave Harrington find a rave
there, and hastily he threw out the cart , to
discover that it too was tenautless. ‘

Hastening on to the next halting-ground of
the hearse, a third grave was found and opened,

uni with like result, and the mystery deepened .

to an extent that caused the Jew and young
plainsman to talk of nothing else but the strange
occurrence as they rode along to ether.

The fourth night after Dave arrington be-
gan his grave-o ning, the two came upon the
camp where the curse had gone up in flames.

It was not yet dark, and the Signs about
showed the experienced eye of the young
courier that something of importance had oc-
curred there.

There were remnants of the hearse here and
there, sufficient to show what the Vehicle had
been which had been before them on the trail,
and after examining all the tracks about the

_ camp, Dave said quietly:

“The thing went up in smoke here.”

“ T’e wagon?” {

“ The hearse.”

“ Holy Abraham! vaa it a hearse?”

“Yes,”

“Den t’e raves vas all right?”

“I don’t now about that: but here are the

 rear doors of a hearse, and a part of the box-

covering, or I don’t know those gloomy carriages
when I see one. . .

“ These wheels are Jet-black, and there is
some of the burnt trimming.”

“ And t’ere ish t’e grave own t’ere.”

“ Yes, and soldiers have been here.”

“ Soltersi”

" Yes, for there lies a saber and dragoon sad-
dle—holster which some one has left, and the
tracks all show iron-shod hoofs. There has been
music here, Moses.”

“ Moosik been here. mine frient? Vell, I loves
momik.”

“ Not the kind they had here, for I think there
was a fight“?

“ Mine gootncss!

“ Dit dey kilt slime beoplesf”

“ We'll see what that grave reveals.”

At once they set to work throwing out the
earth, and soon their knives struck a coffin.

Instautl they stopped and looked at each
other, whi e Dave Harrington said:

\ “ At last!”
“.You have flnt somedings?"
H Yea.”

“ Vell, dat ish goot."
Again they set to work, and soon unearthed
the coffin, which had been found by the sol-

diets.
“ Dent beoples,” said the Jew.
H It. seems so, but I shall see.
di around it and take it out.”
'Eilentl they we!“ '0 Work Main, and soon
were me led to raise the cofin from its narrow

Come, let us

 bad though the weight was gram

Having carried it to a s at near the camp-
fire Dave Harrington m e a, screw-driver of
his knife and at once began work to remove the
lid, while he remarked: .

“I’ll see just who this is that has had so
manybeggim dug for he, she or it, as the cm

I: the mean time Buckskin Moses had sprung

u down into the open grave, and a call of surprise,

l

 

 

I ‘ The Pilgrim Sharp.

attracted to him the attention of the young
courier who asked:

“ What is it, Buckskin Moses?"

“ Came down here, mine frient.”

“ Well?” and Dave Harrington sprung down
iInto the loathsome hole by the side of the

ow.

“ Dere ish more graves peneath dish.”

“ More graves beneath!"

“ Dut ish so.”

“ What do you mean, Moses?”

“ De grave goes funler down mit the
ground.”

“ Ah! you mean that we have not struck bed-
rovk yet?” eagerly asked Dave.

“I don’t know apout i‘e ped rm-ks, butI do
polli’nows dat t’e knife goes GOWH hero mit t’c
bi t.

“By Jove! but you are right, for your knife
is bufried to the hilt and the earth on the bottom
is so t.

“ ig, Moses—dig, and we‘ll resurrect the
whole lay-out."

Again they set to work, the coffin and its con.
tents momentarily forgotten in their new dis-
covery; and as they du , they could see that
the grave had been dug fieeper and then filled
in for some purpose or other.

What that purpose was they were determined
to discover.

In silence they worked, and hard; and sud-
denly the knife-point of Dave Harrington gave
backa ringing sound, as though it had struck
some metallic substance.

Thrusting his hand down into the loosened
earth be seized hold of something, and with a
strong pull drew it to the surface.

It was a large buckskin bag and very heavy.

“ Gold, by the heard of Brigham Young!"

The young courier fairly shouted the words,
and eagerly the Jew clutched hold of the bag as
he held it aloft.

“And, by the beard of Brigham Young, you
shall die I"

The words, hoarse and threatening, fell start<
lingly upon the ears of the courier and the Jew,
and above them, with revolvers covering their
hearts, they beheld three men clad in deep black
and wearing crimson masks.

“ Danites I” broke from the lips of the young
courier, as he recognized the terrible trio.

CHAPTER XV.
BUCKSKIN MOSES PLAYS A BOLD Gm.

THAT both Dave Harrington, the handsome
young courier, and Buckskin Moses, the Jew
peddler, were considerably taken aback at the
wholly unexpected appearance of fees upon the
scene, there was not the slightest doubt.

His experience upon the Far West border,
though he was young in years, told the courier
{hat he was surprise by men who were merci—
ess. ‘

He knew well the attire of the Danites, their
black clothin and red masks, and that be was
wholly in th 1- power. he could not doubt.

In his work he had cast aside his belt of arms,

 

‘as had Buckskin Moses, and they lay beyond

their reach: but even had they been within easy
rasp, a movement of the band would have been
t 9 signal for their death.

Just as they felt they had made some startling
discovery they were caught, and what the re-
sult wou d be the could but conjecture. '

On their side a ong the trail the Jew had as-
serted his intention of behaving with astounding
valor, should they get into danger, or have to
face death: but now when confronted with real
peril he seemed utterly overcome.

His teeth clicked together as thou h he had a.
nervous chill, and sin ing upon his uses in the
grave, as though the weight of his body was
too much for his fright—weakened legs, he held
up his hands in supplication, while he cried out:

l“ Fer t’e sake 0' Abraham, shentilmens, don’t
kill me, for I ish put a poor mans dat don’t
harm nopodys."

“Shut up, Jew, and let us see what these fel»
lows intend to do with us,” sternly said Dave
Harrington.

Then turning to the Danites he continued:

“ Well, you ve caught us in a hole, so what
do you intend to do about it?”

“You are Dave Harrington the militarv
courier, called by the soldiers baring Dave?”
said one of the three men, who appeared to be
the ringleader.

“Yes, so I am called, and I am not afraid of
my name.

“You are one of the red—handed. crimson-
hearted murderers of Jack De Lee’s Danite
band of cutthroats 1” was the fearless reply.

“I am ijust what you call me oun man.
and when take you to my chief I ghinkgi‘ll get
promotion," imswsred the Danite coolly. ’

,“ Ohl I ain’t worth much, Danny," said
Dave.

“Yes on are, for you bear important dis-
patches 0 Sydney Jo upon, which our chief
will take pleasure in reading. ,I

“ Besides, I have caught you Just in the nick
of time to save the treasure and important
papers which this grave contains.”

Yeathe grave was panning out pretty well,

‘I’ll‘admitf’ said sto.

303’: you don’t know its value, for there are

_l‘|.'r 

and chattels will be welcome among the

* Danite," was the cold reply.

 

many thousands of dollars in gold beneath your
feet, and important papers for Brigham You» ,
which he would not have seen by your poop e
for all the treasure. -

“You came very near making a rich haul
from the Mormons, but you slipped up " and
the three Danites laughed lightly, while buck-
skin Moses said beseechingly: .

“I vill gives to you shentilmans mine share
of t’e golt, ef you ish pe so goot ash to let me El"
ava rom you.”

“ al ha! ha! your share of what gold, Jew i"

" T’e golt mit t’e grave." . ‘ ‘

“You villainous old Hebrew, it is not your
gold to give.”

“I help find him mit mine young fluent,”-
whiued the Jew. .

“Yes, and you helped lose him, too, with
your young fr end.

“ But Come, get out of the grave, both of you,
and you, Dave Harrington. I’ll slip irons upon,
for ydu are dangerous, while a lariat is enough
for the Jew.”

“Holy Moses! I am ruint, I am ruint in
peeziness,” moaned the Jew. '. 1

“Out of that grave, I say!” again sternly' 
ordered the Danite leader, and Daring Dave, or
I shall call him, for by that name he was better
known to his companions on the border, sprung ‘, ‘
lightly out, while Buckskin Moses awkwardly '\
scrambled to the top. . C. I

“Now, my gallant cruiser, hold forth your
hands.” ' .' ~ .

Without a word Daring Dave obeyed for re- I ,
sista nce he knew was useless. as the other two
Dunites covered him with their revolvers, they
not seemin to think it necessary to more than
watch the ow.

Quickly the Danite leader clasped a pair of
steel cuffs upon the wrists of Daring Dave, and
bending down secured his ankles in the same, l'
way. r i
“ Now tie up that Jew,” ordered the leader. . ' ‘i

One of the men quickly obeyed, bin the
paid: of Buckskin Moses behind him w ill: a .!‘ 

a a

Then four horses belonging to the Danitea' V
were led up to the grave, and upon one of them ‘ v
was a pack-saddle. ‘ ’

As though fearful of tarrying long in that 
neighborhood, the Danites set to work to get 
cut of the grave what the knew tobethere, J
and Daring Dave watche them attentively... 53‘
while bag after he of gold was handed up and ' '
placed securely in t e pack- saddle. . ‘

As for Buckskin Moses he sa‘. upon the ground. 3
his head bent in deepest de eciicn, and moaning .
and mumbling in a. way t at disgusted Daring '
Dave and amused the Danites, for they laughed ‘ ‘
and ' ked at his distress and trembling terror.

“ hat ends the gold, twalve bags in altos
ther major said,” remarked one of the men,
handing u the last buckskin ha . ,

“ Now t 9 papers, Len," said 1; a leader»

“Ay, ay, air,” and diving down again into
the grave, after awhile a small iron berth“: f
handed up.

“ There is a tin box now, and that is all,” laid
the leader. .
“Out she comes,” and a tin box, locked; as

was the iron one, with a padlock, was handed
upédiind these were also placed in the-pack- 5
so e. r‘ . r ' -.
“ Now we must be off. and Jew, your-‘33:: ’

 

Iassure you, while, Daring Dave, we'll have ii
grand picnic when we hang you.” '5' ,.
“Olii vou intend to hang me, do youf’laid ‘
Dave indifferently. ' ' ’
“Y‘es. I guess so, though the thief may find
some other way of calling in your chi "’ _

“ Well, I won’t squeal, for l’ve livédfivifirmp
life in my hands, so do not complain,” win, the
plucky response of the youna courier. , .

“0 , you’ve got nerve. I know, but I eu'
a Danite execution will make you thou for ‘ \
mercv.” ‘ I

“ We’ll see.”

The Denite leader smiled. and then fume to;
one of his men whom he had addressed as o 3
and who wasa tall, well formed fellow, armed ‘ '
to the teeth, but whose face was wholly shield- ' v
ed, as were the faces of his comrades, hyltho . .
crimson mask he wore. ' ‘ '

“Leo,you mount your horse and , on. -.
ahead with thu pack-animal, while we t his» i
cou’rier and Jew to their saddles, and , 0w
on. . . .

“ Ay, .ay.” answered the Dani“, no! he ,
threw himself into his saddle. seiud the‘lli‘riat ~ "
of the {rack-horse, and rode away in the darlla
ness, w 116 the leader sent his remaining man ,
after the animals of Daring Dave and the Jew, .
remarking: ‘ ‘

“I’ll make a chain of these irons, Daring ,,
Dave, and fasten your feet together under your ' f
horse, for I’ve heard that you are a hard one to ’
hold after you are caught. ’ . ‘ . .

“ You have the power. so do as you please, ’ ‘

 
  
 
   
    

The Dauite than unfastened the clasp upon- 3‘
one of Daring Dave’s ankles, and strung levers!
of the iron: together, taking them from 
pocket in 'is sad is.

“Ah! here comes Buck with your  86. v
mount, and then I’ll make you secure,”'he’u'id:, ‘.= 3:

r

 

‘10

The Pilgrim Sharp. ,

 

u the other Danite came u , leading the cou—
rier’s roan mare, Buckskin oses’s gaunt horse,
and the mule with its hu e pack.

“Say, cap'n. ther co n is yonder by the
fire,” said the Danite.

“ Hal I had forgotten about that.

" Well, we must bur it again, so let us get it
as soon as we have tied these prisoners upon
their horses.

“ Come,
mount!”

Feeling that resistance was utterly vain,
Daring Dave placed his unmanacled foot in the
stirru , and, refusing aid from his foe, and
iron as he was lightlfimounted to his saddle.

v “Well done, Baring ave! You are as agile

as a cat.

“ Now I’ll fasten these irons.”

While one of the Danites fastened the roan
mare tc a tree, the other clasped the irons upon
Daring Dave’s other ankle, thus rendering him
utterly powerless to escape by springing to the
groun .

“Now Jew, we’ll fix you," and the two
started toward the Jew, who still rocked his
body to and fro, the while moaning bitterly.

“ One moments, shentilmensl”

There was a startling sternness in the voice of
Buckskin Moses, and, with the words he was
upot'ii his feet, while both hands were thrust for—
war

And, seemingly from the very hands came
twc flashes in quick SDCCPSSIOH, and dead in
their tracks sunk the two Danites, while Buck
skin Moses coolly remarked, while he held up a
small derringer in each hand:

" Dey takes my big goons, but fergot my
leetle sons~of-goons, mine frient Dave."

Daring Dave, no nonsense, but

 

CHAPTER XVI.
THE COURIER RETURNS.

Foa'r Barman has been, for over a quarter
of a century, noted in the history of the Far
West, and, at the time of which I write, during
what is known as the “ Mormon War,” it was
the theater of many stirring scenes.

In one of the winters passed there, when many
soldiers and employees of wagon-trains were
hemmed in the frontier post hardships and suf—
ferings untold were endured by the rave men
who were battling against the cruel foes who
had gained so strong a footing in the Salt Lake
Valley, and under their loved leader, prophet
and general, had thrown down the gauntlet of
defiance to the United States Government.

But it is not of that war that I am writing,
but only of such part of it, as necessitates the
bringin in of characters who figured there, and
a few 0% whom yet live, though many of them
have long since gone to answer the roll-call in
the Great Beyond.

To the neighborhood of Fort Bridger, I would
now have my reader accompany me, and, at a
time a few days after the bold game pla ed b
Buckskin Moses to secure the escape of imse f
and Daring Dave from their Danite captors.

In a large tent, just after sunsot, several offi-
cers were seated, one of them wearing the uni-
fogi of a colonel, and the others being of lesser
ra

They were discussing the probability of an
early move against the Mormons, and the com-
ing of supplies awaited, and anxiously hoped
for, when into their midst stepped two persons.

‘ Daring Dave! as I live!” cried the colonel,
and, as he spoke he rasped the hand of the
yogng courier, while e continued:

And you have news I hope Dave l”

“Yes Colonel Lewellyn, have dispatches,
but as i was not told to ride hard, I do not
think they are very important.

“ But- I have other news for you, sir.”

“ Indeedi have you seen Lieutenant Crich-
tOnl” quickly aske the officer, who was a hand-
some man 0 fifty, and every inch a soldier.

“ No, sir; but heard of him.”

“And has he met. with success?" eager]
asked the'colonel, while a shadow fell upon his

fine face. _ _
“Iwill tell you, Sir, what I heard of him;

but let me presentto you, Colonel Lewellyn,

my friend and fellow traveler, Buckskin Muses,

, for I know him by no other name, and to him I

"a

0mm life.” ,
“in sad! I am glad to meet you, Mr.
Moses.” .
“How you vas, generals?” and Buckskin
Moses grasped the outstretched hand, while he
continued:

“My name vas Mordecai—Moses Mordecai;

"first my young frient here calls me Buckskin

oses.

‘ I vas a peddler, generals, ant I has t’e pest
goats ,mit t’e country, but Isells ’em to you
shes . ’

Thg colonel smiled, and asked:

"How was it, Dave, that Mr. Moses saved
your life?” .

“ I will tell you, sir.

“We came on together from near Leaven-
worth, where I overtook Buckskin Moses, and
we discovered that wherever there was a spot
where Captain Sam’s supply-train had en-

:for the night, bac from it a mile 0
two was another camp, but a small one. '

y
\

“ We also discovered that wherever this small
cam was, there was a grave, and—”

“ grave?”

“Yes, colonel, and I determined to investi-
gate, so dug into the grave at the next camp we
came to.”

“ Well, what was the result?”

“ There was nothing in the grave, sir, and so
it happened of every one that we dug down to
bed-rock, sir.”

“This was remarkable. "

“ So it was, sir; but we came to a camp that
had a grave which was not empt .”

“ Ali! and what found you in it?”

“We could see from the signs all about that
there had been some trouble in that camp, so
while Buckskin Mose staked out our horses and
built a fire, I set to work on the grave.

“ At last Buckskin Mose came to help me, and
soon we struck it rich.”

“Hal what did you find, Dave?” asked the
colonel, ea erly, while the other officers present
also seems deeply interested in the story of the
youn courier.

“ e found a coffin, sir.”

“A coffin?”

“ Yes, Colonel Lewellyn, and one that was no
slouch, for it had silver handles, and was gotten
up in a style that was most becoming for a
corpse.

“ Well, we raised it out of the grave, and car-
ried it to the fire, and while I was working at
the screws with my bowie, Buckskin Mose made
a discovery that carried me quickly back to the

rave.”

“ And that discovery, Dave?”

“We found that the grave had been dug
deeper and filled in, so we again set to work,
and I had just unearthed a buckskin bag full of
gold, when we found three Danites standing
over us, and they had us covered.”

“ Ahl your story increases in interest, Har—
rington, I assure you.”

“ Well, sir, we had to throw up the sponge,
for they had us dead, and Buckskin here seemed
to be frightened half out of his wits.

“ In fact, the did not seem to think him dan-
gerous, for whi 9 they ironed me hand and foot,
they only tied him up with a lariat.

“Then the Danites be an to unearth other
things from the grave, an they took out twelve
bags of gold, an two boxes, one iron, the other
tin, full of important opera, maps and dis-

patches for Brigham oung.”

 

CHAPTER XVII.
DARING DAVE’s STORY.

THE announcement of During Dave, that the
boxes contained important papers for Bri ham
Young was a cat surprise to the colone and
his officers, an a most annoying piece of news,

0.

“Then, as far as the grave was concerned, it
was but a blind to hide the old and the papers
of the Mormon chief in?” sai the colonel.

“No, sir, not exactly; but the Danites had
evidently come there, knowing what was in it,
and they caught us like rats in a trap.

“ Having gotten the contents, and packed
them on an animal, which they had brought
with them, and which had a pack-saddle, they1
dispatched one of the number on ahead Wit
the booty and papers, while the other two re-
mained to look after us and the pack of Buck-

skin Mose. . .

“They said the intended to kill me and
made me remoun my horse, and ironed my
feet and hands securely.

But Mose had been whining and moaning
most dismally all the time. and when they
started toward him the two Danites were taken
by surprise, I assure you, for he had managed
to free his small hands from the bonds, and
having two derrin rs, he met the rascals with
shots that droppe them both in their tracks,
and we were free once more.

“It did not take Buckskin Mose long to un-
lock my irons, and then we went to investigate
the contents of the coffin over by the fire. _

“ In removing the up rpart of the lid we
discovered what appear to be a dead woman
and a little child resting upon one arm.

“ But Moses is a very curious man, colonel,
and in looking more closely, he detected that
the coffin contained dummies.’

” Dummies, Harrington!” asked the colonel in
so rise. .

‘ Yes, sir, for they were wax heads and
hands, and were made to represent a- dead
woman and child.” ‘

,“ This is most astounding news, Dave.”

"“ It was an astoundin discovery for usto
make, sir, I assure you; ut we brought the
wax stifls with us in Moss‘s pack, and you shall
see them.

“Having made this discovery, we bundled
the two Danites into the coffin, after Moses had
taken their black suits and red masks—”

“ Yeah, dey ish goot for odder mans to vear,
generals, ’ put in the Jew.
~ “And you took their clothing from them,
Dave?”

“Buckskin Mose did, sir, and then we rode
on, and about da light overtook Captain Sam’s

 

supply train, an I told him of our discovery,

\

and he informed me that the camp had been
made by a Yankee, calling himself the Pilgrim
Sharp, and that he had followed him from
Leavenworth, camping each night near him, as
the train-men would not allow him to join the
outfit with a hearse.”

“ A hearse l”

“Yes, sir, for hearse he had, as 'good a one,
Captain Sam says, as ever trotted a stiff
through a country town to the planting ground.

The Pilgrim Sharp, it seems, had been on his
muscle in Leavenworth, the night before Sam‘s
bull outfit pulled out for the trail, and he had
licked Bruiser Dick then, shot him through the
hand, and the next day came sailing to the
front on his old hearse, in which he said were
the bodies of his wife and child, which he was
taking West to bury wherever be staked out a
land claim for a home.

“ Every night the Sharp would come to Sam’s
camp and clean the boys out at cards, and it
seems he was there the night Lieutenant Crich-
ton met the train.

“ In some way he got into trouble with a train
hunter by the name of Trumps, and killed him.
and Lieutenant Crichton at once had him
arrested, to stand trial.”

“Crichton was right, and if be murdered the
hunter, the Sharp, as you call him, shall hang
for it,” sternly said the colonel.

“Not he, sir, for he was taken to the troopers’
camp, where Sergeant Rowe himself mounted
guard over him.

“ But in some mysterious way be freed him-
self, drove a knife into the sergeant’s back—”

“Great God! had he killed that splendid fel-
low Rowe?” cried the general, springing to his

cat.

“ He did, sir, and sosilently, that he made his
escape, but not until he had also slain the harder
of the train, who was on guard, and doubtless
attempted to halt him.”

“ The fellow is a devil.”

“ He’s a terror, air; but he got away, al—

though the cry of the harder alarmed the
camp.
“Lieutenant Crichton took half of his men
soon after and followed him to his camp, and
there found that he had burned his hearse,
mounted his horses and escaped.”

" Too had indeed.”

“ Yes, sir, and his dummies fooled the lieu-
tenant, who had the grave opened.

“ At dayli ht, colonel, the lieutenant and his
men went 0 on the trail of the Pilgrim Sharp,
who rode one of his horsos, and doubtless used
the other as a pack-animal, and my opinion is,
that the fellow is a Danite, who was ringin
gold and diSpatches to Brigham Young, an
sent the three men back for the treasure that
was in the grave, when they took in Buckskin
Moses and myself."

“Your surmise is doubtless right, Harring-
ton: but what of Crichton and his men?”

“Of‘ them I know nothing, 5",, since he left
on the trail of the Pilgrim Sharp. ’

“Then he could not have found my niece,
Miss Leroy though he may have some clew to
her whereabouts, ’ sadly said the colonel.

“ Of that I cannot say, sir.”

“ You did not hear i the . Danite, or Pilgrim
Shar , had any one with him?”

“ aptain Sam says he did not, sir.”

“Well, it is a pity you could not have ca
tured the Danite who esca d with the o d
and, papers; but I trust the Crichton wil do
so.
“ If any man will, sir, Lieutenant Crichton is
the one to do it.

“ Now, colonel, Moses and myself will look 11
something to eat, and seek rest, for we ne

“But if you want me, sir, I’ll be over at the
sutler‘s cabin,” and Darin Dave took his de-

arture, followed by Bucks in Moses, of whom

olonel Lewellyn said, as the two de arted:

“ That Jew is not such a fool as he ooks.”

“ Such is just the opinion which I arrived at,
sir,” answered Captain Fitz Hugh Lee, a dash-
132gi young oflicer who was present; and be ad-

e :

“In spite of the chronic look of half terror
the Jew wears, he has nerve, or he never would
have risked those shots with his derringers, and
that he killed his men too proves that he fired
withndeadly aim— Hal there comes Crichton
nowl °

All in the tent sprung to their feet and dashed
out, at the words of Captain Lee, just as several
horsemen rode up to the spot and drew rein.

They were half a down dragoons, with
Eugene Crichton at their head. and their horses
showed that they had _been pushed hard, for
they were gant, panting, and covered with
sweat and mud. . .

The riders, too, were pale and haggard, and
several of the soldiers showed that they had
been wounded, for one had an arm in a sling
anotherahandkerchief bound about his hea
instead of his hat, and the check of another
was bed and bleeding.

“ n Heaven's name, richton, what has hap-
pened?” cried Colonel Lewellyn, excitedly.
Dismounting in a weary way, the young
I oflicm‘ said hoarsely:
“ I am sorry, Colonel Lewellyn, to have to

 

\

AAA—m... _

 

 

.‘fig'

 

 

 

report ill-tidin s; but these are all of the men I
have left out o the score who left with me."

“ Hal you have had a hot fight then with the
Mormons?"

“ With the Danite Band under Major De Leo,
air, and we barely escaped with our lives."

“ You were rash, I fear, Crichton," said the
colonel, reprovmgly.

“ The circumstances of the case warranted
rashness, Colonel Lewellyn for I followed on a
trail that caused me to discover your niece,

‘ Miss Leroy. and—"

.—4

if we remain here, and

“Ha! what of her, Crichton?

“Speak! for the love of God!" and the of-
ficer seized the arm of the young lieutenant and
gazed into his face with earnest entrenty.

“Alas. sir. she is a captive to De Lee, the
Daniie .’"

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
m DANI'I'E’B THREAT.

I MUST now return to the thrilling momenti
so long lost sight of, when Louise Lero turns
at bay against the man who had so 5 ranger
taken her from her home and had told her that
she must fly on horseback with him from an
enemy who was coming,r upon them.

Wholly at the mercy of the man, alone in a
wilderness, she had remained obedient, believing
and hoping for the best.

But when doubt of him entered her mind,
and he added to this doubt by saying that
soldiers were coming, where he had at first said
Indians, then she determined to. assert her
womanhood, and had seized the rifle near at
hand and covered his heart with it, while from
her lips came the threat of death to him, if be
advanced u on her.

The Pilgr m Sharp did not seem in the slight-
est degree disconcerted by her act, but simply
asked:

“ What would you do, Miss Leroy i”

“Defend myself against you, sir.”

“ I mean you no harm.”

“Then why fly from soldiers, whom you ac-
cidentally let me know were coming?” she
said scornfully. .

“As I told you, I meant Indians, though I in-
advertently said soldiers.

“ I know what will be the result to both of us
that your fate will be
worse than mine, you may well know.”

“ Oh! that I could still trust you,” she said
wearily.

" You can, and to prove it, I will say to on
that I did not tell you the worst, for I wis ed
to keep back what fate would really be ours.”

He spoke earnestly, and she said, as s e com-
pressed her lips and nerved herself to hear all:

“Speak, sir, and tell me the worst!”

“I will do so, as every moment you delay us
here renders our escape more doubtful.

“I told you that Indians were coming here,
but now I tell on that they are Dam'tes !”

She shrunk ck, and leaned against the tree
gar support, while the rifle dropped from her

n .

Well she knew, from all she had heard of the
Mormon Danites, what she had to expect, if she
fell into their merciless, worthless hands.

“Oh, save me!” she gasped, and at the en-
treaty he sprung to her side.

His appearance was eccentric to ridiculous-
ness, but his voice was (ice and earnest, his
manner honest, and his wor s sincere, or they
appeared the very soul of sincerity.

"I will save you, Louise Leroy, for I love

on.
y “ Na , I press no claim upon you, tell you no
story 0 my love, only I wish you to feel that it
is my earnest desire to save you, no matter if it
is to become the wife of another as soon as you
arrive at Fort Bridger.

“ See, the better to serve you I assumed this
disguise, and had I not done so, neither you or I
would have been here now.

“ Danites haunt this Overland Trail, and in
these troublous times they hesitate at no not of
cruelty or deviltry, while you would be a prize
for which Brigham Young himself would face
death a hundred times. <

“ Now, I confess to you, that I might have no
resistance from you. t at I 6,111 29d you at the
little inn where we stopped in issouri, before
entering Kansas-—”

“ Drug ed me!” she gasped. . .

“ Yes, or it was better so and it is better
now for you to feel that you were drugged, than
that you were in a trance.

“With you unconscious, believed to be dead,
I laid my 1313118. and I have brought you in
safety thus far. .

N In the train ahead there are many Danites
in disguise. and the on! by catering to their
superstitious fears that have kept them away
from my camp-

“ Now there has been a break amon them,
the are getting near their friends an home,

’an it is whispered that my,hearse bears trea-

sure and not the dead bodies of my wife and

‘ child as I have represented.

“ Twice have attempts been made to rob me,
but the first time I frightened oil? the Villains
by playing ghost, and once you gave them a.

shock which effectually scared them 03 from
coming _

again.

\‘.

 

I rI‘he Pilgrim Sharp. :

“ You have seen that each nightI ha’ve work- :

ed hard, upon reaching camp, to dig a grave,
and lace in it the coffin and pretended bodies.

“ his has been to meet just such an em r«
genr'y as has now arisen, for coming here, and
finding the rave, and, as they believe, its dead,
our foes wil not pursue me, and escape will be
in our power.

“Now you know all that I have to tell, and
[ask you it you still doubt me, or will trust
me?"

She seemed deeply moved by his quick, earn-
est words, and instantly said:

“ I do trust you, and will go with you.

“ Forgive me for doubting fyou."

He bent his head low be ore her, and then
springing away led up the horses, and soon af-
ter the Pilgrim Sharp and the young and beauti-
ful girl, so wholly in his wer, rode away in
the gloom of the night Just as the party of
Lieutenant Crichton came in sight of the fire
and charged rapidly down upon the deserted
camp.

 

CHAPTER XIX.
TEE FLIGHT.

Ir Louise Leroy noticed, as she rode along
close upon the heels of the horse of the Pilgrim
Sharp, that her guide and protector seemed to
know the trails strangely we 1 through that wild
land, she made no remark about it.

She held her reins well in hand, for the trail
was a rough one, and with her eyes fixed upon
the quaint form in advance, she was lost ii.
thought.

She remembered that when but a mere girl
she had met Rufus Yale, and that he had con-
fessed his love for her, a love she could not re-
turn, though somehow he had won her pity, for
there was a shadow upon his life.

Then he had disappeared, and his stepvhro-
tlier, Colonel Lewellyn, had for a long time be-
lieved him dead, and had often said that it was
better so. .

Then he turned up a ain, apparently trusted
by his step-brother, an had come for her, to
be her escort to the Far West, and bow strange-
ly was he carryin out the duty he was sent
upon she could not at observe.

Still she could do no more than trust him, and
hope for the best, though seeds of doubt once
sown in the heart grow like rank weeds and are
hard to root out.

All throu h the night, until the first faint
glimmer of awn in the east, the Pilgrim Sharp
pressed on his way, closely followed by the
maiden.

Then he drew rein in a sheltered nook, and
upon the banks of a little stream.

“Here we will rest, Miss Leroy, and well I
know that you need it,” he said. ' .

Then he built a fire, got out the provmons,
and, spreading some blankets for her to recline
upon, said he would leave her to rest while he
took afshort reconnaissance to find out just where
thiy were.

. e had not been gone five minutes before the
tired girl sunk into a deep sleep.

How long she slept she did not know, but she
awakened with a start as the words fell upon
her ears:

“ Hal here is game worth the bag ingl”

She uttered a cry of terror, for be ore her she
saw three forms clad in deep black, wearing
crimson masks, and armed to the teeth.

But as she looked another form sprung from

behind a. bowlder, a revolver in hand, and cov-

ered the three masked men.

“Not so fast, my gallant Danites, for that
ame is mine I" cried the Pilgrim Sharp, for he
t was that had so opportunel appeared upon

ghe scene, just as poor Louise roy gave up all

0 .

be three men were caught, and, turning, be-
held the strange individual who confronted
them. and who had them covered.

“Who are you?” said one of the three, ap-

peering to be the leader.

“ Naumoo ! ”

The answer caused all three to start, and then

the leader said, with some respect in his tone:

“ If you know Nauvoo, you must also know

more.

“ Give us the sign." -

There were several quickly-executed move»
ments of the hands of the Pilgrim Shal- , and
instantly the three men placed their c d
hands a 11 their foreheads and bowed ow
twice, w 'le Louise Leroy watched the scene
with strange interest.

“ What orders has the chief for his servants?"
askegghe leader of the somber-looking trio.

u y i

As the Pilgrim Sharpwspoke he inted down
the valley, and again Wing tw co, the three
men departed in silence.

He watched their de ture and then said: ,

“Well, that was a c ose call, Miss Leroy, and
I thank High Heaven that I knew the secret
signs iven by the Danite leaders.” _

“1‘ ey are Danites, then?" asked Louise Le-

roy iYn a house whisper.

“Oh,'how the fri htened me, for I was
and dream ng 0 home and happiness.”
y poor child, you shall. soon be in you;

ll

homg, and with those who shall love'and honor
you.

Somehow his words caused her to shudder, in»
stead of soothing her, and she asked, with a
tinge of suspicion in her tone:

‘ How knew you the secret signs of the Dan-
ites, Mr. Yalel’ .

“ I will tell you Miss Leroy.

“ For some time I have dwelt on the border,
and one night there came to my humble cabin
home a man wounded and dying.

“ I gave him shelter and cared for his wounds,
and in his delirium he told me who and what he
was.

“It appears that he was a Danite ofllcer of
high rank, and while ravin with fever and
suffering, he went over an over in the
forms and signs of the Danites, an thus VI
learned them all, and several times before have
saved my life by their use.

“I am no coward, I believe, but I cared not
to risk an afiray with those three men, Well
knowin what your fate would he should I fall,
so I ris ed once more the Danite signs, and,
thank Heaven, with succem."

“ And I thank Heavon also," fervently rem
sponded Louise. ’

“Now, if you will get breakfast, I will follow
after those fe110ws to see if they have really
gone,” said the Pilgrim Sha , and he strode
away down the valley, while 1 ie maiden set to
work preparing the morning meal, for she had
an appetite, in spite of her fatigue and the peril
she was in.

 

CHAPTER XX.
A MISHAP.

For. nearly an hour the Pilgrim Sharp was
absent from the cam . and Louise began to get
very anxious about iis long stay, fearing that
some accident had befallen him.

" Ah! what will become of me if he is dead?”
she cried.

“ I doubt him, and yet I can feel no reason why
I should.

“ He certainly treats me with the greatest
respect, and he has done much for me, while his
reasons for the mystery he has assumed seem to
be good. i

.‘ at this haunting suspicion in my heart that
all is not well, I cannot smother.

“ We cannot be so very far from Fort
Bridger, and the trail we turned from down the
valley must lead to some important t, and. if
he comes not back soon I will moun my horse,
leave a note which way I have gone, and try to
{in}? some refuge, hazardous as is the under-

a in .
“ ii there he returns!” ,

Here es fell upon the quaintly-attired form
of the ilgrim Sharp, coming at a brisk walk up
the valley.

His face wore a smile, and he said cheerily: .

“ They hava gone, and I have found the trail -
that will lead us to the fort, so as soon as on
are sufficiently rested we will start, isa
Leroy."

His words and manner cheered her, and she
ate breakfast with a decided relish, and some

little camp.

were certainly superior animals, an most thor-c
oughly trained. \

They had worked well in harness, drawing,
the heavy hearse through all kinds of weather,
and over the roughest trails, and yet under the
saddle seemed even better.

They were full of spirit, and had the appear I
ance of possessing great d.

As though tamiliar with his surroundings the
Pilgrim Sharp continued on his wa ,
one trail, in spite 0i others branch g 0! here
and there. ,

He seemed, too, a. little anxious to press on so
rapidly as possible, and Louise noticod that he
frequently glanced behind them as though ex-
pecting danger from that direction.

Through valle 3. across plains, over moun-
tains they went alting for an hour’s rest in the,
afternoon, and than pushing on once more.

“ I am anxious to get out these mountains be-
fore darkneas comes on, or we will have to camp
here," he said, assn excuse for his pressing on;
more rapidly. '.
But hard y had he spoken when his horse
slipped, and in attempting to recover himself
caught his foot on a. rock and
was unable to save himself. and all heavily
that stunned him.

The horse was upon his feet in an instant, but
his rider lay where he had fallen.

With a cry of alarm Louise threw herself
\from her saddle, and bent over him.

“He is not dead for his heart beats, though
faintly,” she said.

Then she (passed her hand over the bruise upon
his forehea , and added: .

r “ There is no fracture of the skull, though the
blow was a severe one. ,

“ No, he is only stunned, and I nope will soon

recover " '

 

color came into her pale face, as she mounted ,
her horse and rode by his side away from the ‘

The horses belonging to the Pil rim Sharp .

following '

ell.
Quick and agile as he was, the Pl] rim Sharp 5
against a howlder, his head striking with a force _

‘ She took a cup from the pack upon his hoi'.u.\ ' ‘

 

 

12.

The, Pilgrim Sharp:

 

I
and hastening to a stream near, soon brought ;

watcr and bathed his head.

For a long time it seemed to her that he
would never return to consciousness; but at
last the broad breast heaved violently, and soon
after the eyes opened and were bent upon her

face.
“Ah! I have been ill,” be said, in a dazed

wa .

'FNO, our horse fell with you, and your head
was da ed against the rock.

“ But I do not think that it is anything seri-
ous,” she answered.

“ I hope not; in fact, I know not, or my mind
would not be clear now.

“ But it was a severe blow and a close one,
and my head aches severely.

“But I’ve had too many rou h knocks tocare
for this,” and after a slight e ort, he arose to
his feet.

In a few moments he seemed to he himself
again and said petulantly:

“ e have lost a precious half-hour through
the fallin of that accursed horse. Inever knew
him to fa before.”

“Is it so‘ very important that we get out of
these mountains before dark comes on?" she
asked. seeing that he seemed worried.

“ Yes; for there are foes here whom I wish to
avoid.

“ Come—are ou ready to press on i”

“ Certainly; ut you seem to know the coun~
try so well, I should think there would be no
great danger in riding after night.”

“But there is danger, as we have a trail to
{claw which few men care to risk by day-

'8'

“Curses! the infernal beast has a shoe half—
ofl.‘ and that accounts for his tripping.”

fie referred to his own horse, and raising the
animal’s hoof he observed that the shoe was
broken in two.

In spite of her presence, a muttered curse
pasted his lips. ,

But Louise Leroy said nothing, as she felt that
he was suffering from his fall, and knew that
the delay was a great disappointment to him.

. “What can you do now, Mr. Yale, for this
rough trail will soon lame your horseso that he
cannot travel ?” she said.

“ Ah! I shall have to be equal to the emer.
gency,” he said.

As he spoke he took from the pack which he
carried behind his saddle a horse-shoe, nails
and all instruments necessary, while Louise
looked on with surprise.

She had known him to shoe his horses while
on the Overland Trail, but had not suspected
that he had brought the necessary implements
along with him on horseback.

Instantly he set to work and in a short time
had set a shoe upon his horse, and put an extra
nail into the others.

Then he did the same for the animal ridden
by Louise, and once more they resumed their
way, though after a loss of nearly two hours
time, and which the maiden saw fretted her

, companion greatly.

CHAPTER XXI.

IN yam.

As they continued their wa the face of the
country ew wilder for a whi e, and then their
horses tailed wearily up the mountain side.

After having gained the summit, the Pilgrim

drew rain for a rest, and cast his eyes
down the valleys below them.

“ Curses! they are coming l”

The words broke savagely from his lips, and
caused Louise to start, while she quickly gazed
in the direction in which he was looking.

There, 'ust emerging from the timber in the
valley be ow, she saw a body of horsemen.

One was in advance a few rods, and behind
him, strung out in Indian file came a score of
others.” I

“ They are soldiers 1”

She fairly shrieked the words.

But he answered coldl :

“ You are mistaken, iss Leroy, for would to
God they were dragonns."

“ But I see their uniforms distinctly. and see,
they have discovered us and wave their hands.

‘ Ah, see! now they come on l”

“ Come, we must fly, and we have no time to
lose,” he said, sternly.

" Fly from our friends?" she asked, haughtily.

“My poor child, these men are not our
friends.”

“ The are United States troo ers, sir, and all
true sol iers are. the friends of t ose in distress.

“ Perhaps they are from my uncle’s regi-
mwill” Le I be to f

‘ iss roy again g on come on, or
all will be lost.” y

" I will not fly from friends,” she said firmly.

“ Listen to me.

“Those men wear the uniform of United
States soldiers, I admit, but I tell you frankly
they are not such.”

“ Then what are they, sir, and how dare they
wear a livery they have no right to?”

’ “They are Danitesl”

She started, and gazed full into his face.

- “ I repeat it, they are Danites, for, when I
followed those three men, who_ visited our

 

3 valley, and I discovered them, with others, rig-
‘ ging themselves out in dragoon uniforms.
l “ I then knew that more deviltry was on foot,
so have been anxious ever since, though, not
s caring to alarm you, I did not speak of my dis-
' covefiy.
“ ow I beg you to come with me, for we
have to descend the mountain, and then have a
plain to cross before we are in safety.”
“Forgive my doubts,” she said frankly, ex-
tending her hand; and riding on, the descent of
the mountain was begun.
It was slow and tedious, and yet they dared
not urge their horses to greater speed.
“We have the conso ation that the Danites
must do as we have to do,” said the Pilgrim

Sharp.

At last the plain was reached, a stretch of
several miles, and beyond, a range of moun—
tains, which the Pil 'ni Sharp informed Louise
the dangerous trail ed through, which he had
been anxious to pass over before nightfall.

“We can do no more than reach the moun~
tains, Miss Leroy; but once there, they cannot
pursue us.

“Hal those devils are pursuing us hard.”

The clank of steel a ainst steel had caught his .
ears, and looking bac he beheld the horsemen l
on the summit of the mountain.

“They have driven their cattle hard up the l
hill,” he muttered. 1
“But they must come slowly down it,” re-

sponded the maiden.

 

speed. -

“ Come! come, you snails, you must do better 5
than this,” he cried to the horses, and the ani- ‘
mals were urged to the utmost.

But the horse he rode hung back, going
slightly lame.

‘ I must have pricked him with a nail in put-
ting on that shoe,” muttered the Pilgrim

harp.

But he did not spare the spur, and the two
animals were kept at their s ed.

Momentarily, however, he one lim d the
more, and the pursuers'having now reac ed the
level plain, came on at a cluttering pace.

“ Our horses have had a long jaunt for weeks,
while their cattle are fresh comparatively.

“ On, you bounds!” and the Pilgrim Sharp
plied the spur cruelly to his own beast, who
struggled forward—though in great pain, and
going almost upon three le s.

“They will overtake us,’ said Louise hoarse-
ly, measuring the distance of the pursuers from
them, by a quick glance over her shoulder, and
then looking toward the mountain base in their
front.

The eyes of the Pilgrim Sharp, who was look-
ing ahead, suddenly dilated, and he gazed fixed-
ly an instant upon the mountain side.

Then he said, earnestly:

“ Igiss Leroy, you ride on and leave me,

“ No, I will not desert you, come what may——
Oh God i”

The last words broke from her lips with a cry
of anguish, for suddenly out from the moun-
tain side dashed a band of horsemen.

There were full half a hundred of them, all
mounted upon black horses and dressed in the
deepest sab e clothing, while their faces were
incased in crimson masks, and gloves of the
same bright hue were upon their hands.

“God in Heaven! we are lost!” groaned the
Pil rim Sharp, and he drew rain, as though
un ecided what to do.

Then he seized a revolver in each hand, and
said in a low tone: .

“ Before you shall fall into their hands, .I
will shoot on through the heart, and then dte
fighting t m to the last!”

CHAPTER XXII.
THE VICTORY. .

I'r certainly was a most thrilling and perilous
moment for the fugitives, for, if the horsemen
in their rear were Danites in the uniform of
dragoon, those before them were surelv none
other than Mormon soldiers, and the grim
Sharp and Louise Leroy were between two

res.

The lameness of the animal he rode caused
the man to feel that further flight was im-
possible, and in drawing rein he had uttered
the threat to kill her rather than have her fall
into the power of the Danites. _

But Louise Leroy was a plucky girl, and had
no such desire to end her days, for she believed
thoroughly in the principle of hoping while life
should set, and she said quickly:

“ No; I will take my chances, for I pannot
believe that they dare harm me, and if the
demand gold for my ransom I am 11011 enoug
to pay it. ’ '

“As you think best, Miss Leroy,” was the
answer of the Pil rim Sharp, and replacing his
revolvers, he he d up his hands and called
out:

“We surrender l” ,

A moment after a Danite officer dashed up to.
their side, followed by his men, who quickly
circled around them, while Louise whispered to
the Pilgrim Sharp:

 

 

./,,l

'x: , 4

I l
camp, I came upon their encampment down the

“They are coming down at a break-neck .

‘ havin

“ Try the Danite signs once more, and they

In? gain protection for us and release."
he Pilgrim Sharp shook his head sadly, and
said aloud, addressing the Danite ofl‘ioer:

“ Is this the Dauite Band of Jack De Lee?”

“ It is, and you and this lady are Major I
Lee’s captives; but you must ride on quick
to the shelter of the hills, for that I'uolhardy
American officer is goiugto attem t to recap-
ture you," and he pointed tower where the
other party of horsemen were still dashing on.

“ Ha! are not those also Danites disguised as
United States soldiers?” cried the Pilgrim Sharp
with a strange look upon his face.

“ By no means, sir.

“ T ey are men from Colonel Lewell n's regi-
ment of dragoons,” and the. maske Danite
started, as he heard a. cry from Louise Leroy,
while he called out:

“Form quickly, men, to meet the charge of
yonder devils l”

As the words left his lips Louise Leroy sud-
denly brought her whip down with telling force
upon the side of her horse, and the startled
angmal bounded away like an arrow shot from
a ow.

The Pilgrim Sharp and the Danlte officer both
made an effort to seize the rein of the animal;
but in vain, for the horse was be end their
reach in an instant, and heading directly for
the coming troopers, who were now not more
than two hundred yards distant, and coming on
at a gallop in line of battle, their leader in.
advance.

“Kill her horse l" shouted one among the
Danites.

“ Ay, shoot her, ere she escape,” cried a
stern voice, and then followed the crack of a
revolver.

Instantly the steed ridden by Louise Leroy
uttered a snort of pain, sprun into the air, and
fell heavily while a cry of espair came from
the lips of the maiden as she was buried to the
ground, where she lay as though stunned.

“ Charge!" shouted the Danite leader in trum-
pet tones, and the band darted forward to meet
the coming troopers.

Passing by the prostrate form of poor Louise,
they darted on to engage the dra oons, while
the Pilgrim Sharp ran to the side 0 the maiden
and raised her in his arms.

“ She is stunned by the fall, or has swooned,”
he muttered, just as the two bodies of horsemen
met in fierce encounter.

“ Here are horses, sir,” said a Danite, leading
up two spirited animals, and the side-saddle
been taken from the dead steed, was
place upon the back of one of the two led up
to the spot by the Mormon soldier. But the
Pilgrim Sharp mounted the other animal, and
seeing that Louise was still unconscious, bade
the Danite place the maiden before him, and
that he would cai ry her.

This was quickly done, and, with a Danite
upon either side of him, the Pilgrim Sharp rode
toward the rear, carrying his precious burden,
while the two bands of horsemen still engaged
in a fierce combat, the dragoon oflicer seeming
determined to cut his way through the lines of
his foes and attempt the rescue of Louise Leroy
whom he saw beingbcarried OR a captive, and
perhaps dead, for e had seen her thrown
heavily to the ground when her horse fell dead
from the Danite’s bullet.

But the dra oons were too few in number to
cope with the suites and, to save his remain-
ing men, Eugene Crichton, for be it was, as the
reader has doubtless surmised, at once ordered
a retreat.

Farming in a compact mass the dragoons cut
their way out, the Danites seemingly most will-
ing to let them go. content to rest upon the
laurels of having killed and wounded nearly
all of them, and captured the maiden and the
Pilgrim Sharp.

CHAPTER XXIII.
CAPTIVE AND canon.

WHEN Louise Leroy returned to conscious-
ness all was darkness about her, yet she felt
the presence of some one near.

“ Where am I?” she asked, faintly.

Instantly a light flashed before her, and she
saw that she was in a small room, evidently a
cabin, and that she lay upon a bed of robes
and blankets.

A rude table, several chairs, and a dark-
lantern compriSed the furniture, the latter
having just been placed upon the table by the
Pilgrim Sharp, who seemed to have just en-
tered through a door that led into an adjoining
room.

“Ah! you have recovered consciousness
again, Miss Leroy, and I am most glad, for
your long swoon made me very uneasy re-
garding you,” said the Pilgrim Sharp, ap-
proaching the bed, or rather bunk upon which
she lay.

Instantly she arose to her feet, and saidzv'

“ Am I a prisoner!”

 

I

“ Alasl/ we both are, Miss Leroy,” he an- -

swered, sadly.

«

<0

 

l

The Pilgrim Sharp.

13

 

 

“ Yea, I recall that I tried to reach the dra-
gnnns, whom you believed to be Danites in dis
guise, und~”

‘* I certainly so believed them, Miss Leroy.”

(. “ You were mistaken though, and we fled
Item our friends, and I am now, I suppose,
the captive of Danitesi”

“ We both are.”

“But tell me,” and she spoke with sudden
our. cstness:

“ Were the dragoons driven back?"

“ They were, and most severely handled.”

“ And their leader?”

“ Was Lieutenant Eugene Crichton, so the
Danite officer said," and the Pilgrim Sharp
looked her straight in the face.

“Yes, I recognized him, just as Istarted to
fly to the aid of the dragoons.

“ But was he wounded or killed?” and her
voice faltered.

“No, though it is strange that he was not,
for a more reckless attack I never saw.

“ When he felt that all attempts were vain,
he charged through the Danite line, and es-
caped with the few men he had left.”

“He is a noble man, Mr. Yale, and, as he
recognized me I know, I feel that my speedy
release will be sure."

“ Ahl would that I could think so.”

“But the Mormons dare not hold me as a
prisoner, for I am the niece of an tflicer in
high command,” she said, haughtily.

‘~ The Mormons little care for that, Miss
Leroy.”

“But I will appeal to their cupidity, and
offer a large ransom for my freedom.”

“They will refuse it.”

“ How do you know, sir?” she asked, quick<
ly, and with the some tinge of suspicion in her
tone and manner which she had before shown.

“I know something of the Mormons, Miss
Leroy, and Major De Lee told me to-night
that you would be held as a captive at all
hazards.”

“ What! that wretch, Major Jack De Lee, of
whose cruelties I have heard so much, told you
this!"

“ Yes, only a short while ago.”

“ Then it is into his power that I have
fallen?"

“ Yes, Miss Leroy."

‘ ' And why are you not a prisoner?"

“1am; but though I have my freedom in
this cabin, I would meet with certain death
did I step outside of that door.”

“ Oh! what is to be done?" moaned the poor
girl in agony of grief. »

“I know not, though I am not one to give
up hope. ”

“ Nor I, and the Mormons shall find me a
hard captive to hold,” was the stern and signi-
ficant remark of Louise Leroy, as she turned
away from her companion and began pacing
to and fro.

Suddenly she paused and asked:

“ Where are we?"

“ At a cabin in the mountains, and which is
an advance past of the Danite band."

“ You brought me here?”

“ Yes, two hours ago, under a Danite
guard.” '

“ Can you summon Major De Lee, for I
would speak with him?"

The Pilgrim Sharp made no reply, but went
to the door and rapped upon it. '

Instantly a guard appeared. He was dressed
in black, had the conventional red mask, or;
in his right hand was a revolver. ‘ -

“This lady would see Major De Lee," said
the Pilgrim Sharp.

‘ “ Come with me and I will lead you to him,
and you can make known the desire of the
lady,” answered the guard.

The Pilgrim Sharp stepped out of the door
and LOUISO was alone with her bitter thoughts.

For some time she paced to and fro, fretting
at having been led to fly from the dragoons,
under the beliei that they were Danites in dis-
guise, and then she started an the door opened

.and a tall form entered. ,

 

“ I am Jack De Leo, lady, and I have come
at your command," he said in strangely soft,
rich tones. . _

He was a man of striking appearance, with
the form of perfect symmetry, clad in a sable
uniform, trimmed with silver braid, and wear.
ing a black helmet, with a sweeping plume of
snowy white. -

Upon his hands were red gauntlet gloves and
his entire face was shielded by a. mask of
metal, painted crimson, and which allowed
only a pair of flashing eye. to be seen. ya "

 

About his waist was a sash of woven silver
thread, and in it were a pair of handsome
Colt’s revolvers, while suspended by a chain
was a short sword, the hilt of which was stud-
ded with precious stones.

Louise Leroy fairly started at the sight of
this superb personage, for she had expected to
be confronted by a coarse, rude—mannered
man in Jack De Lee the Danite chief.

“Is it possible that you are Major De Leo
the Danitel” she faltered.

“ Yes, lady, I am Jack DeLee, and wholly at
your service,” was the courtly response.

“How strange that a. man such as you ap.
pear outwardly, can be the demon your acts
credit you with," said Louise in a tone of
scorn.

The Dnnite chief bowed, and answered in
the same soft manner:

“There is an old saying, lady, that ‘ Satan
is not as black as he is painted.’

“ Perhaps that may apply to me."

“For the scke of humanity I sincerely hope
so, sir.

“ But I asked to sce you, that I may know
what is to be my fate?"

“I trust that you Were not injured by your
fall, lady)" he said evasively.

“ No, I swooned away, I think, for I was
not injured.

“But be good enough to answer my ques-
tion."

“ As to your fate?”

“ Yes, sir. "

“That I cannot tell you, lady, for I do not
know.”

“ I am your prisoner, I believe, sir 5"

“Yes, lady."

“ Are you aware who I am?”

“Yes, you are the niece and ward of
Colonel Lewellyn, I am informed by the
strange-looking, and very eccentric genius that
was captured with you."

“ He has correctly informed you, air; but may
I ask where that eccentric genius is now, for he
left me to seek you?"

“He became combative, and I placed him
under a guard.”

“ I hope no harm will befall him; though he
led me into this trouble, he did not intention-
ally do so, and I forgive him.”

“As to what his fate will be I cannot tell
you, lady.”

“Nor what will be done with moi"

“ Of that also I am in ignorance."

“ It is said that you possess great power,
sir?"

“Over my men, yes."

“Your word is absolute?"

H  it"

“Your acts are unquestioned?”

"‘ They are, lady.”

“ Then you have the power to release me?”

The Danite chief made no reply, but shook
his head. ‘

“Listen to me, Major De Leo."

“ I am all attention, lady.”

“ The oflcer commanding the dragoons who
charged you so gallantly on the plain—"

“Gallantly indeed, lady.” '

“That omoer, I say, I know well, and he
recognized me, and my uncle will soon know
that I am a captive to the Danites."

“Well, lady?”

“The result will be that he will do all in his
power, aided by the general in command, to
rescue me.” ,

“ It will be impossible, lady, and he will but
throw away the lives of his men."

“Then if you speak ‘the truth, sir, to save
the lives of brave men, I have a proposition to
make to you."

“Name it, lady."

“I offer you ransom for my liberty and safe
conduct into the lines of the army under Gen-
eral J ohnson.”

Again the Danito shook his head.

“I am willing to pledge myself to pay a
large sum for my release.”

“ Miss Leroy, let me tell you frankly that no
sum can purchase your freedom."

“Ah! you set a high value upon me, sir,”
said Louise with a sneer. \

“ Yes, but not higher than you deserve."

“0h, sirl why do you detain me here, for
what am I to you?” and the voice trembled,
and the beautiful eyes filled with tears as she
asked the question.

“ Miss Leroy,“ and the Danite chief spoke
«mostly: ‘

“ You are not detained by my order, but by
that of one who is'far greater than I."- r '

I

\

f

l 1

‘to his home in the West, they departed, he say.

 

it. 3'- ,'.. »\ 

“Ah! to whom do you refer?” and Louise
turned deadly pale,

“Brigham Young 1”

She gave a low cry and sinking into a chair
by the table, buried her face in her hands.

At last she started to her feet, her eyes
flashing with anger; but the Danite chief had
disappeared and she was alone.

 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
THE MORMON anion.

IN a lovely little valley not very far from
the Mormon stronghold, and overhung by wild.
and rugged mountains, stood a. little cabin.

There was an air of comfort and neatness
about it that was very inviting, and somehow
one coming upon the little home, nestling away
in that lone place, would expect to find there
the fair face of a woman.

Nor would he be disappointed, for it was the
home of one whom love had lured there, caus-
ing her to forsake kindred and friends, and a
life of refinement in the Far East.

Thnt one was known by those who were
aware of her existence, and they were very
few, as the Angel of the Valley, a name she
had deservedly won.

A golden-haired, blueeyed beauty, with a
face of purity and a form of grace, it was no
wonder'that she won the hearts of many in her
girlhood days. ‘ r

Suitors she had by the score, for, added to '
her loveliness, she had the charm of wealth,
having been left a fortune by her father, who.
had made her the controller of her own riches.

But men of fame, men of noble hearts, and
men who were working their way up the lad-
der of prosperity and distinction, had knelt at
her feet in vain, for she could not give her -
hand where her heart would not go. , ~

One day, while skating upon the lake near
her home, she sunk beneath the ice, and so hit-
ter was it that none of her companions dared
venture near to rescue her. '

But suddenly, when all believed that aho
must die, a. carriage halted on the highway
near, and a man sprung from it, and, rushing
to the lake, bounded boldly in. 6

He seized the drowning girl, fought his. way 3
near the stronger ice, and, refusing the aid of
the young beaux, called to his coachmanto
throw him the reins.

The man promptly obeyed, and the maiden‘
was drawn ashore in safety, but nearer dead
than alive. ‘

Then the coachmau aided his master out‘of
danger, and forcing his way through the crowd,
the daring stranger raised the form of tho
younggirl in his arms. and springing into the .
carriage, bade the driver hasten up to the
town. ‘

Who the stranger was no one knew, more
than that they saw his name upon the register -'
at the inn. -

But from that day the maiden loved him,
and when he departed shortly after, the post-
master hinted that the lovely girl was corm f
pending with him. 5

Of course there. were jealous rivals, and tho :-

maiden’s kindred bade her forget a man of '
whom she knew absolutely nothing. K . . ‘
But she was not to be governed by them, and

one night she left the village secretly, and then ' ‘ L

wrote back from New York that she had mar-i «
ried her brave preserver, and wished to at once
transfer her wealth into money. »
This could not be done without a great sacri- :
doc, and as her husband was anxious to return

7

ing that he would come back "and settle up If-

fairs.  ‘

Andthat home? . 5 i
It was to the little cabin in the mountainl,
which I have described, and where she dwell:
with only two old servants to care for her, and
who lived in a cabin but a few rods diltant.
Loving her husband with a worship that won.
idolatrous, the young wife tried to be contents ‘
in her lonely home, though he was often absent: ,'
from her for days at a time, and she saw only
the old servants, and some of hissoldiera, for
he had told her that he was an oficer in nor
Vice. v '
Upon the afternoon when the young wife in
presented to the reader, she came out of her
little cabin, and throwing herself into a rultio
seat began to work uponsome embroidery. .
As she sat there she seemed very youthful,
and was certainly beautiful enough with her

fair, pure face, tobo called the Aug.) 0‘ a. 

Velma d, , ~ .ri

'. VI A}

.. vwfik—u

 

14

Presently she started, for the sound of ap-
proaching hoofs fell upon her ears.

“It is, it must be, my husband, for his mes- ,
nengei said he would come to—dayl” she cried
with joy, springing to her feet just as a horse—

The Sharp.

 

 

 

 

horse carrying the papers and gold taken from
the grave, departed from the camp, le:l\'lI*;:;lli5
two comrades to follow on behind him will] the
prisoners, he little dreamed that he “Vim nl. nit
to be brought face to face with a tcinpzmion

She was upon her feet in an instant, her
eyes blazing, her bosom heaving, while her
face had become livid.

“ Jack De Lce, do you mean What you say?"
she asked in ringing tones.

 

i

/

\ .

a

’.

man appeared in sight.

It was a man of striking appearance, in fact,
the one who had called himself Major De Lee,
in his interview with Louise Leroy.

But now he wore no crimson mask, and his
face was plainly revealed.

It was a face to attract attention, to fasci-
nate a man or a woman, and yet, when studied
deeply, it was a face to fear.

The features were refined and well cut, the
eyes very earnest and restless, and the mouth
was winning and smiling, yet there seemed to
haunt it in repose a continual sneer.

Springing from his horse, as he rode up, he
clasped his young bride in his arms, and in
answer to her low chiding about staying away
for long weeks, he said: -

“ I could not do otherwise, Flo, for I had
important work to do in the East."

“ I have so missed you, Jack, all these days,
and I dreaded that you might run into danger,
for I heard old Batty and Bess talking about
the coming war that you were to have with
those hated Mormons."

" That I was to have?” he asked, quickly.

“Yes, so I thought they said; but I could
not understand all they were talking about,
and perhaps I am wrong; but I knew it' there

was a war you would have to fight in it, as ;

you are a soldier.”

“ Batty and Bes: are two infernal old fools,” 

said the man, petulantly.

“ Ohl I am sorry I told you, Jack; but they
did not know I overheard them.”

The man was silent a moment, and his brow
grew clouded, as though his thoughts were of
an unpleasant nature.

At last- he led the young bride to the rustic
seat, and placing himself by her side, he said:

“Flora, I have something to say to you
which I fear you will not like. "

She started, and asked softly:

“ What is it, Jack?

“ Have you heard ought that was unpleasant j

from my old home?”

“Oh, no; but I have deceived you in one
; way."

“ You have deceived me. Jack 3” and she
tux nod very pale.

"Yes, Flo.”

" Then if you confess it, you thereby atone,
and I must forgive you.”

“Then you will forgive me, Flo?” he said,
softly.

“Yes, everything, everything.”

“Bless you, my little wife; but I must tell
you that I deceived you because I loved you,
and could not give you up.”

“ Those are strange words, Jack.”

I “ They are true, for the moment I saw you
I loved you, and to give you up would have
broken my heart.”

“ And mine, too, Jack, for you know, since
the moment you pulled me out of the lake I
loved you, and I have proven it.”

“You have, indeed, Flo, for you accepted
my story of myself, and came here with me to
this rude and lonely cabin, and not once have
you upbraided me with keeping you here,
when you are so well fitted to shine in
society.”

“ Why should 1, Jack?

1‘ I married you for yourself, and I do not
care for the world.

' - “ Did your duties allow you to remain here
with me, I would be perfectly happy and rest
content here forever. ”

“But that cannot be, Flo, for, as I said, I
have deceived you.”

“01:, Jack: what have you done, for your
words, your manner, lead me to fear some-
thing torrible,” and she became very pale, as
she clasped her tiny hands before her.

. “ You will doubtless think what I have done
isterrible, Flo, but I could not give you up,
and hence I acted as I did.”

“ Speak, Jack, and. tell me all,” she said, in

' a stern tone, that surprised him, so unlike her
it seemed.

, “ I told you, Flo, that I was a soldier.”

‘ (1 Yea”

“ But I did not tell you in what army.”

‘ Why, what army could you be in other
that that of the United States, Jacki” she
"boo, opening her beautiful eyes wide with
cur-prise. ,
fl “ The Mormon army, Flo.”

\

*1

 

“Sit down, Flo, and listen to me.”

She sunk down upon the seat and gazed upon
him in speechless horror.

“ Yes; I am in the army of Brigham
Young.”

“ A Mormon 3’” she said, with a sneer.
“ Yes; a Danite chief.”

“ Heaven have mercy upon me!"
groaned.

“ Forgive me, Flo, for thus deceiving you,
but, as I have said, I could not help it, for,
seeing you, I loved you, and could not give you

she

p.

“ The Prophet sent me East on private busi~
ness, and there it was that I met you.
‘ “ I brought you back with me, and to keep
1 you away from Salt Lake City. I had you
 come here, for I feared that the Prophet, be-
; holding you, might be envious of me.
“Of late a war is being precipitated upon
3 the Mormons by the United States, and we are
l compelled to fight to protect ourselves, and
1, this place will not be safe for you, so I must
r remove you to the city, where I have a home.”
' “A home in Salt Lake City 2” she gasped.

“ Yes, and a pleasant one it is, too, and you
will be happy there.”

“Happy as the wife of a Mormon?” she
said.

“ Why can you not be, Flo?”

“Your creed, sir, I believe, permits a plu-
rality of wives, and—”

“ But I have no wife there, Flo, for the one
I had died some time ago."

“ Thank God for those words, Jack De Lee,
: for now I am, though a Mormon bride, not a
‘ guilty thing in my own sight.”

I “ Ah, Flo, you must get over these Gentile
notions and become like myself—a true be-
; liever in the Mormon creed."

“ Never-1”

“ Do not say never, for all things are possi—
ble, especially in this far-away land.

“But now let me tell you, Flo, that you are
‘ to go to my Salt Lake home and reign there as
a queen.”

l “ And I alone shall possess your heart,
' Jack?”

“ Yes, you alone shall possess my love, Flo,”
he said ovasively.

“And you will not have another wife?”

“Flo, the Prophet has already commanded
that I should marry."

“ And you have done so, for I am your
bride, am I not!”

“ Yes; but he commands that I take another
wife.”

“ Another wife, Jack DeLee ?” and she fair-
ly hissed the words.

“ Yes, and it is my duty to obey.”

“ And you intend to do so, Jacki”

“Yes, Flo; but don’t look so terribly, for
’you shall be the queen of my heart.”

“ And when do you intend to take this other
wife?” she asked slowly.

“ I have already selected her, and she is
coming now to this cabin under an escort of
my men. ,

“ She is beautiful, refined, and will he a
charming companion for you, while every
Mormon elder—41y, and Brigham Young him-
self—will envy me the possession of two such
beautiful wives as will be my F10 and

l:

l
l
l
l
|
l

' Louise.” '

“ Louise?”

“Yes, her name is Louise Leroy."

“Louise Leroy 3’" and she fairly shrieked
the name.

“Yes, Flo; but for God’s sake do not look
and act so!

“ Do you know Louise Leroy?”

“ Ay, do I know her, Jack De Lee; and never
shall you degrade her as you have me.

“ Neverl”

With the utterance of the last word she
seized from his belt a revolver and thrust it
against his heart, while she gazed into his face
with the look of a tigress, and her words were
cold and stern as she said:

“Now, Jack De Lee, I can avenge myself
and save poor Louise Leroy l"

 

CHAPTER XXV.
ran TRAITOR.

Wm‘ the Danite known as Leo, and who
hadbeen intrusted with the care of the pack-

 

! ‘. 1'
‘r l r . ,
Poi. . a . ‘ l x/
s, , '3 . m f . . ., . ,M ,.

 

which it would lie hard to resist—if, indeed, he
could resist it.

He had not gone very far upon the trail
when he was startled by hearing two distant
shots. .

Instantly he halted his own and the pack-
horse, and listened attentively.

No other sound came to his ears, and he won-
dered from whence had come the two shots.

Had his two comrades shot the young courier
and the Jew peddler, he wondered?

Certainly it could not be the other way, for
the courier had been securely ironed, and the
Jew certainly was half-crazed with fear when
he had left.

For a long time he sat in silence, awni'i:.g
the coming of his companion.

But no sound broke the stillness, olhm' than
the cry of a night-bird, or howl of a wolf.

Anxious to know what was the cause of the
delay, and wondering at the two shots, he
hitched the two horses, and went swiftly back
on the trail.

At last he came in sight of the camp.

The fire still flickered, causing the shadows
to flit grimly about, and his eyes fell 11pm 9.
scene that filled him with amazement.

That scene the reader can surmise, for he
saw that the vanquished had become" victors,
and the tables had been turned most cleverly.

Lew Fane was a brave man, and he had
often taken big risks in his life; but yet he
hesitated about firing upon Daring Dave and
the Jew, for he was not sure of the result, and
he had no desire to add his own body to those
in the grave, as his failure would certainly
do.

For a moment he seemed lost in hesitation,
and then he turned, put his revolver back in
his belt, and silently stole away.

Reaching the horsos once more, be mounted,
and pressed on in deep silence, his brain in a
whirl, his heart Seemingly on fire with the in-
tensity of his thoughts.

it!"

The words broke hoarser from his lips, just
as the dawn brightened the eastern skies, and,
as if resolved upon some important act, he
rode on at a more rapid pace. ,

After a while he came to a small stream
that crossed the trail, and instead of pressing
on his way, he turned abruptly up the water-
bed, leading the pack—horse after him.

It was rough traveling for the horses, but
the swiftly-flowing stream obliterated all
tracks made by the animals, and the earnest
manner in which the Danite watched the trail,
showed that this object was just what he had
sought to accomplish. ,'

A ride of nearly a. mile in the' bed of the
stream, 'brought the Danite to a shelf of rock,
where even the iron~shod hoof: of his horse
would leave no track. Out upon this he
forced the animals, and then they toiled up the
mountain side upon a narrow ledge that form-
ed a most hazardous roadway, and one which
there seemed no reason in following.

Suddenly the ledge terminated, right in a
clump of mountain pines growing together in
such a dense mass that it seemed impossible to
penetrate them.

But here the Danite dismounted and deliber-
ately began to remove the gold and papers
from the pack-saddle.

This done, he pushed aside one of the scrub
pines, and stepped Within the thicket.

A few steps brought him to the entrance of
a small cavern in the face of the rock, and
into this he carried the pack-saddle and its pro-
cious load. '

Then he wound a cloth over the eyes of the
pack-horse, and seizing him by the bit, deliber—
ately forced him backward toward the edge of
the clifl.

Obeying the pressure upon his bit the doom-
ed, and unsuspecting animal began to step
backward, until, suddenly losing his fooling,
he went over' the cliff, and swept downward
like an arrow, to fall with a deafening splash
in the waters far below.

“There, he is done for and cannot appear
against me.

“Now, to seek my chief and make my re—

' port that my comrades were killed by soldiers.

appearing upon the scene, the prisoners were
rescued, and the, pacinhorse and his precious

Mr)?

_—~

“By the heard of Brigham Young 1 will do
I

no

 

The Pilgrim Sharp.

 

 

 

‘1‘5

 

load captured, while I barely escaped with my
life.

“ Once I have put them on this false scent,
then will I act for myself.

“ Hal hal hal at last the dawn is breaking
for Leo ane, and these wilds shall know him
no more.”

So saying the traitor Danite mounted his
horse and rode away from the hidden cavern,
going as he had come, by the ledge, and
through the bed of the stream.

 

CHAPTER XXVI.
A SPY UPON A SPY.

LEO, the Danite, had believed himself an
honest man, and would doubtless lived and died
in the belief that he Would do no not against
the teaching of the Mormon creed, and the
wishes of his Prophet.

But, like many another he had never been
sorely tempted, and therefore did not know his
strength of resistance. '

The large amount of gold entrusted to his
care, the death of his two companions, and the
thought that the United States soldiers could
be made the scape-goats, was too much for his
elastic conscience, and the result was that be
determined to desert his creed and his people,
and make his way to other scenes, as soon as
he could do so, and there live upon the riches
he had thus obtained.

He had it in his heart to carry the papers
to Brigham Young, convinced that they must
be of great value; but Why should they be
saved and not the gold, he feared would be the
query of his chief.

No, he must do no half-way work, now that
he had turned his back upon his Mormon
creed, a. fact that would never have transpired,
had the gold not been with the papers. ,

Again renewing the trail he had hastened
on to seek the haunts of the bands of Mormon
soldiers, and make his report.

He pushed his horse hard, for the sake of
eflect in the story he had to tell, and at once
sought the Danite chief.

That person, Major De Lee, was not at his
mountain stronghold, but had gone on into the
city.

And thither Leo, the Danits, went, and halt-
ed before the pleasant home of his chief.

But the major was not there, and Lec deem-
ed it his duty to make his report to the Prophet,
sc thither he went, and gained an immediate
audience. ‘

In a few words he told the story he had
concocted, of the death of his comrades at the
hands of soldiers, the, capture of the treasure-
bags, and of the iron and tin boxes of papers,
and his own narrow escape.

Brigham Young paced the floor the while in
moody thought, and Leo did not like the ex-
pression upon his face.

At last the Prophet said:

“ I feared this loss when I learned that there
was a woman in the case.”

“A woman, mighty Prophet?” said Leo, in
surprise.

it Ya.”

Leo said nothing, but the look upon his face
was not feigned amazement, and so Brigham
Young read it; but he said:

“Remember, my man, you are addressing
your Prophet now, and not your immediate
chief, so tell me what you know of this wo-
man.” .

Of a woman in the case Leo certainly know
but little.

He had been ordered, with his two compan-
ions, to go to the rescue of the camp, open the
grave and bring 03 its contents.

He had‘ heard some of the band say that a.
strange man had been seen with a young girl
in the mountains, but had proven himself a
Dani“ by BiVlng the signs and countersigns,
and had, of course, not been molested.

This was all that Leo could tell, and he tald

it.

The Prophet listened to his story, and can.
vincsd of its truth, said:

“ Well, my man, I wish you for a special
duty.”

Leo bowed low, but made no reply.

“I wish you to return to the mountains and
discover just who this stranger was, and also
where he has hidden the girl that was with
him.”

“ But, mighty Prophet, if my own band find
me away from duty I will be ordered back to
the stronghold and punished.”

“ I will give you papers to protect you.”

‘ Leo knew that this was sumcient, and that '

l .
 = _ ~ ([2 . ,
._ x. . , , - s, ‘ . ,

 

Major De Lee would not dare go against the
Prophet’s orders, and he felt happy at heart,
for, while upon a secret mission for the great
leader of the Mormons, he certainly would

have the very opportunity he desired of mak- ~

ing his own escape.

“ I wish you, my son,” continued the
Prophet, “ to find out just what mystery is be-
ing hidden from me by those whom I trust,
and to do this you must spy upon the move-
ments of your own chief."

“ Major Ds Lee?"

“ Yes.

“ And more, I will protect you if you bring
me the news I seek, and you shall not want for
gold. either.

“Now go to my stables and select a horse
there to your liking, and set forth upon your
journey.

“ With these secret symbols which I give
you, not even your chief will dare unmask your
face.

“ Go, and return only when you have solved
the mystery of this woman, and where she is
kept in hiding.”

The Dauite bowed low and departed, wearing
about his neck the symbol of protection which
the Prophet had given him.

Going to the stables, he selected the very best
horse there, to his liking, and mounting, rode
away.

But he little dreamed that the cunning
Prophet of the Mormons bad at once called
one of his own secret league, and said to him:

“ Haslip, I have just sent yonder man on
secret service to the mountains.

“ Mount your horse and follow him, and if
you see him in secret converse with Major Jack
De Leo he will have proved a traitor to me, so
watch your chance and bring me his scalp.”

“ I shall obey, mighty Prophet,” assured the
spy upon a. spy, and soon after he rode ofl
upon the trail of Leo the Danite, and which
led to the fastnesses of the Mormon bands in
the mountains.

 

CHAPTER XXVII.
nvcxsxm nosns STRIKES A TRAIL.

“VELL, mine frient, I vill go up mit t’e
Mormons an’ sell mine goots.”

Bo said Buckskin Moses to Daring Dave
Harrington, the young courier, before he had
been long in camp.

“ You’ll go up and get your neck stretched,
my jewel,” said Dave.

“No, I ish no gentile, only von poor Hebrew
tryinglto make a leetle monish."

“ Well, you had better sell out in camp
hfire, than go among the Mormons and lose
a

“But you are your own master, Buckskin
Moses, and can do as you ko.” ‘

“ T’ank you, mine frient, so I vill do. "

“When do you start on the Mormon trail,
Moses!”

“ I goes by to-night.”

“Well, luck go with you; but when you
have a rope about your neck, remember 'Davs
Harrington warned.”

“Yeah, :nine frient, I vill,” and Buckskin
Moses set about his preparations for departure.

During Dave watched him for awhile and
then went out of the cabin and sought Lieu-
tenant Eugene Crichton. '

He found that young oficer lying upon 'his
cot looking pale and haggard, after the hard-
ships he had undergone the past fewdays. .

“Ah! Dave, it is you.

“ Come in!” he said pleasantly.

The young courier entered and took a. camp-
stool, while he said in a. kindly tone:

“You are not looking well, sir.”

“ I am worried, Dave, terribly so, for there
is one whom I confess to you, that I love bet-
ter than all else in this world, now in the hands
of the Mormons."

Daring Dave_had often been with Eugene
Crichton on many a scout, and between the
two existed a strong friendship.

The young courier also had heard that the
officer was engaged to the niece of Colonel
Lewellyn, and, with his lady-love in the power
of the Mormons he could understand his sor-
row and anxiety.

“ Is there no chance of her rescue, sir ?" said
Dave.

“Oh! the general intends to move in the
matter of course, and Colonel Lewellyn will
be Sent ,under flag-of-truce to demand her of
old Brigham. .

“But great bodies move slowly, and red-
tnpe business loses many precious horses, Dave,

.,> I ‘ ,_ .,.,IV.,.
‘ --*‘ ;'.o.l_'»h u. V.

r

so that the old Mormon will have time to lay
all of his plans and concoct his lies, for of
course he will say he knows nothing about the
capture of Miss Leroy."

“Well, lieutenant, why don’t you move in
the matter?” ‘

“How can 1, Dave!” and Eugene Crichton
sprung from the bed and faced the courier.

“ I do not believe, sir, that an army can se-
cure Miss Leroy, but I do believe that two or
three good men working secretly, can do so."

“Dave, you have some plan in your mind ‘

for the rescue of Miss Leroy. Quick, tell me
of itl”
i “ No, lieutenant, l have found no plan; but
1 I sought you to tell you that the Jew, whom
1 I christened Buckskin Moses, goes to Salt Lake
‘ to-night.” ‘

“ They’ll kill the fool.”

“ So I told him; but, lieutenant, that Jew is
no fool, and I am convinced he is playing a.
deep game of some kind.

“If he isa Mormon spy I would feel sur-
prised and pained, for I like the fellow; but as
he goes to the Mormons, I thought that per-
haps we might make use of him.” ,

“How can we, Dave!” .- *

“ Follow him, and if we find that he is '
square, he will be the very man to find out for
you where Miss Leroy is concealed.” l

“Dave, you are my friend, and I will take ,'
your advice and go at once to the colonel and i
get leave for a few days.” l

“I will do the same, lieutenant, and there is ‘
one other I would like to have go, though not i
with us.” 1

“ Who is that, Dave?” . .; ‘
“Jim Bridger the scout, sir. ” f i

l
l
l
l

 

“There is no better man.”

“ I do not say for him to go with us, sir, but
to follow on our trail, while we follow that of ’
the Jew, and it will not take no long to find
out just what this Hebrew is up to. .

“ Of course the peril is great, sit, as you
know.”

“ And the peril to Miss Leroy is greater,
Dave.

“ I am feeling myself once more, and shall
at once gel. leave and make my preparations " 
for departure, and you do likewise. But will 5 ’ :1
you see the scout, Bridger?” ,, 2 x

“ Yes, sir, for he calls me his boy, you know, i . _
and will do as I wish in the matter. V:

“ Just at dark, sir, I will come here for. ' 
you." ‘ ,5,

During Dave then left the cabin, and seek- ‘
ing the commanding oflcer asked to be let on
duty for a few days. '

The request was readily granted, and then a
the courier sought the camp of the scouts and» s,
guides. . ., ’ “

Of all the men attached to the army, in and , >
about the fort, there was no more important a ‘ K.
personage than Jim Bridger the scout. v 

He knew the mountains and plains of that ‘ -' ,
for land as he did his own camp. I >

He had hunted and trapped in the wilds ..
where other white men dared not go, and his ‘  
name was a terror to the Indiana.

A man of giant strength, tough use pino— ’ ,
knot, with the courage of a lion and the cun- ' f‘éj
ning of a red-skin, he was an enemy tobo ‘ ‘_‘
shunned, and a. friend to be prized. / - . - '

“Waal, Davy my boy, has yer come over. ' ‘
ter ea ther old maul” asked the old scout an  r;
the courier came up and jJined him, as he was ‘ ' ' ,
engaged in rubbing up his weapons. 

“Yes, Jim, I have come to ask a favor of ~ "' 
you.” . . ' , .

“ Granted, Davy, before yer axes it,” was
the hearty reply; and then the old scout added
with a wink: , I

“ Been bettin‘ ag‘in’, keerds too heavy I
guesses, an' wants a leetls dust tor stake yer. " '

“I has it, boy, any time yer needs it, tho' I
never know’d yer ter go broke afore."

‘1 Nor am I broke this time, Jim, for it is
not dust that I want.” \ 

“ Shout out what it are, Davy, an’ of I has
it, you kin git it.” I ‘-. ,

“ Well, I am going, ofl on a little scout for u ‘5
few days, and Lieutenant Crichton is going 
with me.” , ~ ~ s”.

“A galorious feller he are too, Davy; one
ter swing ter. ’ «y

“He is, indeed, Jim; but the truth is, he in ‘
engaged to Miss Leroy, the niece of Colonel 
Lewellyn—” iw.‘

“Ah, yes, ther gal us got stole from her '3 5"
home East.” ’ . ,  .

"Yes, and she is now in the possession of the ‘ ' 
Mormons.” 3 ‘-< 

4

.l,

,‘l‘\
.'\

 

 

 

 

1‘.

EH’ y

’The Pilgrim Sharp.

 

2

 

“ Thet news were fiyin‘ around camp 21 loetie
bit ago.

“But, perceed, Davy, with yer tulkin’.”

“ Well, I picked up a Jew peddler in coming

over the Overland, and though he doesn’t up 1

pear to know much, I think he’s got it in him
to be very different, for be tipped over two
Danites that had us foul, and yet pretended to
be very much alarmed at his act.

“ He carries about with him a perfect ar-
senal, but I notice that every weapon is in
perfect order, and ready for use. ‘

“Now, he starts to—night for the Mormon
camps, he says to sell his wares, knowing that
he will get fabulous prices for them, and Lion-
tenant Crichton and myself intend to follow
him, and try to find out just what he Will pan
out."

“ Yes, Davy."

“And I want you to follow on our trail,
and meet us somewhere in the Uintah moun-
tains, say at the old Danito fort.”

“ I’ll be thar, or tharabouts, Davy.”

“Good! now we start as soon as it is dark.”

“ You an’ ther leftenant?”

(t Yes-n

“ And ther Jew?"

“ He has gone by this time. "

“ Waal, so far good.

“Now, what are ther favor yer hes ter ax
me:”

“I have asked it, for it is to follow on our
trail.”

“I'll be thar, Davy, sart’in, as yer knows
when I gives my word.”

“I know that well, Jim, for I can tie to you
every time,” and so saying, Daring Dave re-
turned to his camp, and found that Buckskin
Moses had already departed.

In fact the Jew was pointed out far in the ,

distance, climbing the mountain-side, and.
leading his weary-looking but good horse after
him, while the pack-mule followed in the rear,
taking a mouthful of grass whenever the op-

portunity offered.

Arriving upon the hill-top, Buckskin Moses
halted for rest, and surveyed the scene in the
valley.

Long and. earnestly he gazed upon the gran-
deur and beauty of the view that met his gaze,
and then once more went on his way, this
time mounting his horse.

Even when night fell he did not halt to
camp, but continued on the trail with a seem-
ingly perfect knowledge of the locality.

After several hours’ pressing on in the dark-
ness, he turned into a little canyon and came

, to a halt.

After watering his animals at a stream that
flowed near, be staked them out, and wrapping

. himself in his blanket, 'went supperless to bed.

With the dawn he was awake, and soon had
a. fire made, and his frugal breakfast prepared,
after which, he indulged in the luxury of a
cigar, while he walked off toward the head of
the canyon.

Suddenly he halted, and upon the brink of a
large. basin of water, formed by the stream
that wound its way through the gorge.

There, only a few rods from him, was a dead

' horse, saddlsless, but with a bridle upon him.

, Attentively the Jew looked at the animal,
narrowly searched the surroundings of the
basin and stream, and then cast his eyes up-
ward to a lodge far above, and from whence
he seemed to surmise that the horse had fallen.

Seeking a rock, against which the head of

‘ the animal rested, he most carefully examined

the bridle and the horse, whose cuts and
bruises, showed that he had fallen from the
lodge into the stream.

As though he had formed some theory for
the presence of the animal there, and also with
an eye to business, Buckskin Moses took ed

the bridle, and walked rapidly back to his
camp.

Seeing that all was secure there, he was
about to venture forth from the canyon on
foot, when he started back, and sprung to a
place of concealment.

A moment he rested there, while distinctly
to his ears came the sound of iron hoofs falling
upon the rocky trail.

Then he cautiously left his retreat, and slow-
ly followed up the steep mountain side, on the
trail of the one whom he had' seen pass the on-
trance to the ,canyon.

A climb of some five minutes, and he came

7 to the end of the ledge, for it terminated
_ , against the side of the cliff. But before him
 . were. two horses, fastened to a pine tree,

,2, , ‘,

though no riders were visible.

4 ,

I v Buckskin Moses stood a moment as though
, lindf‘cidcd. and then very coolly took up a. po-
Lrl Jill! Mir-Mi H'v scrub Lin-J, which was thick
1 enough to hide him thoroughly.

He noticed that the two horses were superb
‘ animals, one of them saddled and bridled, and
the other led by a lariat, so there could not be
more than one rider.

And, that rider be determined to await the
coming of.

Making himself comfortable, and with a
1, large Colt’s revolver in his right hand, he
I waited most patiently, in no way exhibiting
the great fear which had possessed him when
in danger before.

But suddenly he started, for some one was
coming.

It was not the rider he was looking and
waiting for, that was evident, as he came up
the ledge.

But he was mounted, rode slowly, and his
eyes were fixed upon the trail he seemed to be
following. ,

Just then, be halted, dismounted, and hitch-
ing his horse over a jagged point of rock, came
on up the ledge.

He was dressed in black, his face was hidden
beneath a crimsrin mask, and red gloves cov-
ered his hands, so that Buckskin Moses knew
that he must be a Danite.

Upon approaching the horses the Danite

l

“gazed an instant at them, and then stopped

cautiously to the thicket of scrub pines which
were at the termination of the ledge.

Drawing a pine bush to one side, he peered
cautiously into the thicket, and then slowly
drew his revolver.

Resting it upon a limb, as though to steady
it and make his aim sure, he drew a. long
breath, as though to nerve himself to the dead-
ly work he was about to perform, for that the
muzzle of his revolver covered a human heart,
Buckskin Moses did not for a moment doubt.

 

CHAPTER XXVIII.
roman.

WHEN Flora, the Danite’s bride, seized the
pistol from the belt of the man who had so
cruelly deceived her, she was transformed from
the loving wife, with the nature of a dove, into
a tigress hunting for prey. ,

He had deceived her as to what! he was, and
made her the wife of a Mormon.

But that, perhaps. she might have forgiven,
as he had told her that his former wife was
dead, and that no other mistress reigned in his
city home, or over his heart.

But when he coolly informed her that he in-
tended to marry again, her heart turned to bit-
terness at once.

And more, when that other one was known
to her, and loved by her—for the two, Flora
and Louise, had been schoolmates together for
two years in Boston.

And that dearly loved schoolmate, Louise
Leroy, the Danite’s young wife was told, was
to become his wife by the Mormon creed.

No wonder, then, that it made the poor
young woman almost mad with the thought of
what she was and another was to become.

When she leveled the revolver at Jack De
Lee, he saw that she was in deadly earnest,
and that her intention was to kill him.

But his nerve did not forsake him for an in-
stant, and he said, quietly:

“ Flo, take my life if you will, for I am wil-
ling to die by your hand.”

. “So help me High. Heaven, I will kill you,
Jack De Leo, unless you swear by all that is
holy that you will not drag poor Louise Leroy
down to infamy through a so-called marriage
of your accursed faith.” / ’

“Then you would see her sacrificed, Flo?” he
said.

“ Not by being bound to you.”

“ If I do not make her my wife she will be
sacrificed.”

“ How mean you, sir?"

“ As she has been intended for my wife, she
can therefore marry no other man, and she
will, by our creed, have to end her own life.”

“Oh, God! on is terrible i” cried the young
wife.

“ It is our creed, F10, and no Mormon breaks
a law made by God and the Prophets.”

“ Heaven’s curse rest upon such a creed,
Jack De Lee.

“But I believe that it would be better for
Louisa Leroy to die by her own hand, than
become your wife.”

“Youvare jealous, Flo.”

 

. . x

it — .51.“. _ 5'. 7 

 

“I am not jealous, sir, for I now begin to
hate you."

“Well, you must know that if I do not
marry your friend, Louise Leroy, the Prophet
will force me to take some other wife."

“ Is this true!” she asked quickly.

“It is.”

“ You swear it?"

“ I do, and I thought that as you and Miss
Leroy were friends, it would be the better for
you under the circumstances.”

"No, no, Jack De Lee, no two women can
share the heart of one man, and still be friends,
and this law of nature proves the falsity, the
hollowness, the enormity of your creed.

“ No, I have you in my power, and by kill-
ing you I can avenge myself and save poor
Louise, and therefore I shall kill you, and may
God forgive me!”

“ Hold! hear me, Flo,” he cried, as she again
raised the weapon.

“ By killing me you will not save Louise
Leroy, for she will be sacrificed, and your fate
will be—"

“Death, sir, for I shall, when I know you
are dead, send a bullet through my own
heart."

"Flo, put up that weapon, for it will be
time enough to avenge yourself, when you are
convinced that I mean you wrong.”

“ Is it not a wrong to me to marry me as
you did, when secretly you were a Danite?

“ Is it not a wrong to me, to bring me here,
and now tell me that your creed forces you to
take another wife?

“No, you are in my power now, and with
your accuraed creed, I know not what you
might be tempted to do.

“I loved you once, ay, only an hour ago,
Jack De Lee, with all the intensity of my
nature.

“I made you my idol, and I find you un-
worthy, and I am willing to die.

“But I shall first try to save poor Louise i

Leroy, be my end what it may.

“ Now, if you know a prayer taught you in ‘

childhood by your mother, say it, and do not
die in the faith, you have adopted as your
own.

“Farewell, Jack, and may God forgive you
and me too!”

He saw that she was in deadly earnest.

He saw too that there was not the slightest
quiver to her hand that held the revolver, and
he had taught her to shoot, and know well her
unerring aim.

What he did he knew must be done at once,
and he called out quickly:

“ One moment, Flo, I implore you, for if
you slay me now, my Daniles coming yonder,
will tear you to piece.”

She was taken 03 her guard, turned quickly
to see who was approaching, and with the
bound of a panther he was upon her, and his
iron grip upon the weapon she held.

A cry of frenzy broke from her lips, and for
an instant she tried to free the weapon from
his grasp; but realizing the utter fruitlessness
of the effort, she released her hold upon it,
and sinking upon the rustic seat, burst into
tears.

“ Flo, I have saved you from committing a
great crime, in taking my life,” he said softly.

But she made no reply, and he went on:

“Now, I do not wish to be harsh with you,
so do as I say, and all will be well.

“ But resist, and I have the force and will
use it."

“ What are your commands,” she asked,
with a coolness that surprised him, as she arose
to her feet and faced him.

Her face was livid, her eyes flashing, but
she was perfectly calm, a calmness that caused
him to feel uneasy.

But he said in the same low tone:

“ My wishes, not my commands, Flora, are
that you at once get ready and accompany inc
to my city home.” '

“I will be ready in a few minutes; but
where is Louise Leroy?” she asked.

“ She is not here, and, since I see that you
take her coming to heart so. I may let her re-
turn to her friends, if I can so arrange it, for,
Flo, I will do anything in my power to prove
my love for you, and only told you what I
did because I was bound by my creed to
do so. i

“ Come, cheer up, little woman, and all may
be well yet, for the Prophet may grant me
permissioa to have but one wife.”

“ God bless you, Jack, for those words,”
cried the young wife, and she threw herself

4.54" .

 

I

The Pilgrim Sharp.

 

..- ' ‘

z

 » 1'7"

 

 

into the arms of the man whom a moment he-
; fore she had said she hated and would have
' slain had his nerve not saved him from her.
“Come, Flo, get ready, and we will ride
into the city,” he said somewhat uneasily, and
soon after she rode away from her little cabin
home by the side of the man who had so de~
ceived her, and against whom in her heart
arcse the feeling that he was then playing her
false.

 

CHAPTER XXIX.
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.

THnoUGH the guards at the outskirts of the
Mormon city Major De Lee and his young
wife passed, for the Danite chief was known
to all, and in a pleasant part of the town he
halted before a handsome house.

“Here is your home, F10, and I hope sin<
cerely that you will be happy," he said.

She seemed delighted with the pretty abode
and all about it, and kissed him again and
again as though in thankfulness, while she said
archly:

“ If this is a specimen Mormon home, Jack,
there must be some happiness in Salt Lake
City.”

“Yes, Flo, there is much happiness here, as
you will find,” he said, and then, telling her
that he must visit the Prophet at once, but
would soon return, he left the house.

“Is she playing me false, or has she for-
given me?” he muttered as he went along to
the home of Brigham Young.

False himself to everything in life, he
naturally felt a suspicion of all with whom
he came in contact. .

Arriving at the head-quarters of the Pro—
phet, he sent in his name for an audience, and
was readily admitted to the presence of his
leader.

“ Welcome back, Major De Lee, after your
long absence.

“I received your message that you were
again in Mormon—land, and have been sur-
prised that you did not come before to report,”

. said Brigham Young.

“I was detained, sir, for I was compelled to
leave others to look after the papers whileI
sought you, and being hotly pressed by a
squadron of Lewellyn’s dragoons, I was forced
to fight them.”

“Then this will precipitate matters, I fear,”
said the Prophet anxiously.

“ I know not the result, sir; but, being at-
tacked, I was forced to defend myself, and
beat the dragoons ofl. ”

“ You did right, De Lee, for they shall have
blow for blow; but was there no cause of their
attack?"

“None, sir, that I could see."

“ Had you no prisoners they sought to se-
cure?"

“None, sir,” and the face of the Danite
chief flushed slightly, as he remembered the
fair captive, whom the dragoons had made
such a gallant eflort to wrest from his power.

The Prophet made no sign that he doubted
the major, but asked in an indiflerent tone:

“By the way, major, do you know whether

’ any of my people are bringing women into the
lines and not reporting them?”

“I could not tell you, sir,” answered De
Leo, with a guilty conscience pricking him.

“I wish you would have an eye to such
work)?

“I will, sir."

“And promptly bring before me any one
whom you suspect is playing a secret game of
the kind.”

“Your orders shall be obeyed, sir, and now
that I have returned I will do all in my power
; I to see if such a rumor can be true."

“I know you will,,De Lee, and I spoke to
you upon the subject, as it was reported that a
very beautiful young woman had been seen
riding alone in the mountains, yet never com-
ing into the city.”

“It may be a wife of some of my omcers,
sir."

“Perhaps; but you certainly do not permit
this?"

“ Ido not, sir; but while absent upon the duty
» that called meto the States. they may have
taken advantage, to bring some favorite WW9
up into the mountains for a few days.

“But I will soon ascertain if such be the
we.” ,
“ Do so: but when may I expect the papers
v‘ you brought me from my emissariee in the

" flames?" ,

,s Wu.
___.

.’
4
'l
l

 
   
 
   
 

“ They are coming, sir, under a Danite
guar ."

“ You do not seem to know that they have
been captured."

“ Great God! no!” and De Lee was upon his
feet, his face white.

“' It is true, major, for the Danite guard was
surprised by soldiers and their pack-horse, con-
taining the papers, was captured, while two of
the men were slain, and the other escaped and
brought me the tidings.”

“ This is indeed startling news, sir; but
where is this man who escaped !"

“ I have sent him off on a special duty for
me, and upon his return will have him report
to you."

The major bowsd, yet made no reply. while
he felt uncomfortable, for his leader seemed to
be too well informed to please him, as regarded
his movements.

As a sudden thought flashed through his
mind. he said:

“ Prophet, perhaps I can clear up the mys‘
tery, for, as you may remember, I told you
that I had a Wife, whom I was trying to win
over to our faith.”

“I recall that you said so."

“Well, sir, that she might become agood
Mormon, I took matters quietly with her, led
her to believe that I was not what I am, and
gave her a home in the mountains, until she
would be brought over to the true faith.

“ Upon my way here I stopped at the cabin,
and she accompanied me to my home in the
city, where she will remain, for I have won
her over to Mormonism.”

“ Ah! that accounts for it; but is she so very
beautiful, De Lee, for the lady referred to by
my spies, is said to be exquisitely lovely.”

“So I think her, sir; but you will soon see
for yourself.”

“De Leo, 1am glad you told me this, for
frankly, I confess that I held suspicion against
you."

“ Prophet l"

“Nay, do not feel angered, for your words
have explained away all doubts.

“But your desire to go East, as you said
upon most important private business, and at
a time when I could ill spare you, I confess I
could not wholly understand, especially when
it was reported that a mysterious woman was
riding about the mountains, and protected by
the Danite badge.

“ Now you doubtless need rest, 30 return
home, and to-morrow make a thorough inspec~
tion of our outer lines, for you must know that
I fear that Gentile general, Albert Johnson,
may pounce down upon us at any moment.”

The Danite chief bowed low before his su-
perior, and departed, muttering to himself:

“ The old man suspects me yet, I can plain-
ly see; but he shall not know of the presence
of Louise Leroy in the district, until she is my
wife.”

 

CHAPTER XXX.
A snor AT RANDOM.

MAJOR JACK Dr: LEE was in no very plea-
sant mood, when he left his home in town,
early on the following morning, after his in-
terview with the Prophet.

Though a good Mormon, he was yet a
schemer for his own interests, and allowed no
creed to stand between him and the carrying
out of his own ends.

He feared that the Prophet might in some
way learn that the fight with the dragoons
was on account of Louise Leroy, and naturally
he would he asked who she was, and where
she was.

He was therefore anxious to go to his moun-
tain camps, and seeking out all of his men
who had been in that fight, to send them to
some distant point, and there keep them, until
the affair should be dropped.

Although the Prophet had professed to trust
him wholly once more, and said he was satis-
fied regarding the. mysterious woman seen in
the mountains, the cunning major well knew
that it was a case of diamond cut diamond be-
tween them, each one doubting the other.

Mounted upon a splendid animal, attired in
a new uniform and wearing the crimson mask
and gloves of the Danites, Jack De Lee rode out
of the town and pressed rapidly on up into the
mountains. .

Arriving atone of his camps, he called an
omcer to him and at once gave the orders for
the exiling of the band that had been in the
fight with the dragoons to a distant point

 

where they could remain unquestioned.

\

 

 

 

“ And now, Murdock, what about the lady i”
he asked the officer.

“ I conducted her in safety to the cabin, sir,”
was the answer.

“ And left her there?"

“Yes, chief, in charge of the old man Batty
and his wife.”

“ You gave them my orders that she was to
be a prisoner, though she should not suspect
that she was guarded?”

“ I did, chief.”

“ I thank you, Murdock, and you shall not
be forgotten, I assure you.

“ Now get your men 011' as soon as possible
into the Uintah Range, and when you report
to me, do so by some courier who was not in
the fight with the dragoons."

So saying Major De Lee mounted his horse
and rode on to other out; osts, determined to .1 c
be able to send the Prophet word that night , ' ’
that he had personally gone the rounds of every
foot of the line under his command.

“The old man will think I am stirring lively . ‘
after my trip, and it will have a good effect.

“But now to drop in en passcmt to pay a.
little visit which the Prophet shall not knew
about." -‘ a

He turned into a wild gorge as he spoke, and . ,\
after a ride of a mile, came .upon a cabin _ "
nestling away under the mountain’s shelter. ‘

It was the same cosey little home where had .l
dwelt Flora, the young Mormon wife.

Riding up to the door, DeLee dismounted
and threw his bridle-rein to an old man who
approached.

“Well, Batty, is all well?"

“ Yes, chief.” , 

“ And the lady?" ' t

“ Is at her breakfast, sir, for she slumbered . ,’
late this morning.” . , *‘ if

“ Your wife is with her?” . 

“ She-is, chief.” ..

“ Say to Base that I desire her to request for > ‘ :
me an interview with the lady.” ,

The old man went around to the rear of the * o  "’
cabin, while Major De Lee threw himself into
the rustic seat, which had been the favorite re.- ‘
treat of poor Flo.

Hardly had he done so when his quick eye 
detected a skulking form dart down behind a v f
large bowlder up on the mountain-side} , ' .‘i ‘

He showed no sign that he had discovered. ‘ 
it, but took out his revolver cautiously and
placed it beside him, while he pretended to
read a letter which he had taken from his
pocket. .

But his eyes went above the written pagq
and rested upon the bowlder. .

Thus watching he saw the branch of a tree :
slowly shoved above the rock and remain sta- _
tionary, and then his eagle eyes detected a hu- .
man head behind it. \

Taking out his handkerchief, be dropped i '
upon the seat by his side, and over the rack», , .
and picking it up the weapon was in his '
hand. . t .

Then, quick as a flash, the revolver was
thrust forward, the report followed, and rising . ,
coolly, the Danite chief walked up the hillside, .
just as old Batty came rushing around the
cabin in dire alarm. ,

“0h, chief! I feared troubles for you,” he . ;
cried.

“Oh, no, I merer shot at a bird, who's
plumage I want. \-

“What said the lady?” was the very‘cool
response. ' '

“ She will see you, sir.

“Shall I hunt for the bird you killed?” -

“No, Batty, I will get it, for I know just.
where it fell.

“ You go to the lady, and say that I will
soon join her, and then lead my horse down... "
to the stable and feed him," and Major De‘
Leo strode on up the mountain side toward the 1
bowlder, above which he had just sent a bullet
flying with deadly intent. ‘

\
x

 

 

CHAPTER XXXI. ‘: 
Lauren rumor runs A Discomv.

HAVING so cleverly gotten rid of old Betty,
Major De Lee went on up the mountain side
to see the effects of his shot. '

It had been a random shot, as it were, for,
though he had a moment before, distinctly
seen a. human head behind the branch of
cedar above the rock, he was not sure that .it
had not been withdrawn before he fired.

A dead shot, he had aimed directly at the
spot where he knew the head would be, if it _ »
had not been withdrawn, and he saw tho,

 

v

\

lé, ,

The Pilgrim Sharp.

 

 

I... ___ .-____.__.

 

branch of cedar drop with the crack of the
pistol.

It was a long shot fora revolver; but he
knew just what his weapons would do, if
sighted straight, and he did not doubt the re-
sult, if the head had remained where he had
seen it.

Reaching the bowlder, he passed around it,
his revolver cocked and ready, to guard
against surprise, and stopped suddenly as he
beheld a form lying in a heap at his feet.

It was a human form, clad in buckskin, and
one hand grasped tightly the little cedar bough
which he had held above the rock.

But the face was hidden from sight, resting
as it was upon the ground, just as he had sunk
down at the Danite’s shot.

By his side, leaning against the rock, was a
rifle, and about his waist was a belt with a
bowie-knife and two pistols.

Turning him over, the Danite chief slightly
started, as he caught sight of the face of the
dead man, for dead he was, the bullet having
crashed into his forehead.

“Hal it is the secret spy of the Prophet,
and he was sent by my esteemed master to
dog my trail.

“So be it, he will never return with his re-
port, and I must send two of my trusty fel-
lows here to—night to carry him off and secret-
ly bury him.

“ Forewarned is forearmed, my good Prophet,

‘ and I shall know now just what confidence you

place in me, and act accordingly.

"But I should not blame you, for I have
spies upon your movements, and upon the
actions of every officer I have.”

“Ah, mel this Mormon life is a career of
perfect espionage, and every man is looked
upon as treacherous.

“ Now to see the fair Lady Louise,” and, so
saying, Major De Leo retraced his way to the
cabin, and so carelessly, that Louise Leroy, who
was watching him from a window of the cabin,
little dreamed that he had been standing above
thebody of a man whose life he had just taken.

At the door he was met by Louise, who
bowed coldly to him. 1’

Her face was very pale, yet firm and fearless
it looked, whatever her heart might feel.

“I hope that Miss Louise is well, and feels
rested after the fatigues of her long ride,” he
said, in his courtly way.

She gazed an instant upon his superb phy-
sique, noted his elegant uniform and his court-
ly manner, and then fixed her eyes upon the
mask which so surely shut out his face, while
she said:

“ I believe that I address Major De Lee, the
Bonito; but, as you seem to fear to show your
face, I can only guess as to who you are by
your figure and uniform.”

He felt the sarcasm of her words, and re.
plied:

“ I am Major De Leo, Miss Leroy, and I am
masked, for it is a custom of the Danites to
cover their faces just now, and I follow the
custom.”

“May I ask, sir, what decision
come to in regard to my release?”

i “ I fear, Miss Leroy, that you will have to
remain in captivity, for now that you are with-
in the Mormon lines, the Prophet will never
hear of your leaving them.”

“Not by exchange?” she quickly asked.

“There is no one, Miss Leroy, that could be
exchanged for you.

“As for myself, I would not give you up in
exchange for General Albert Sydney Johnson,
yes, and his army thrown in.”

“ You prize me, indeed, most highly,” she
said, with scorn, and then added:

“Then it reduces itself to a. money transac-
tion, so name your price, ir.”

, “As I before told you, Miss Leroy, no ran-
som will be taken for you.” .

“In God’s name! what, then, is to be my
fate?" she cried, in alarm.

' “ Are you so bitterly opposed to the Mormon
faith, Miss Leroy, as to refuse to become a be-
liever?”

v “Opposed to it!

“Why, sir, I loathe to scorn the very name
of Mormon,” she said, with her face full of
withering contempt.

“My dear Mitts Leroy, I beg you to hear me,
for I Wiih to talk plainly to you.”

“I will listen, sir, if you do not insult me bv
asking if I can see one virtue in a Mormon’s
creed.”

“ You are severe, for even
virtues.”

/
you have

 

the heathen have ,

“ Yes, but their ignorance excuses their acts,
in many cases; but you, sir, a man of courtly
address, refinement of manner, and possessed
of education, have no reason for having become
what you are.”

“ I am a Mormon."

“And hvnce Ila-Lillie you."

“ Pray do not say that, but hear what I
have to say.

“ You are a captive in the Mormon lines.

“ You are beautiful, and you can reign a
queen among women.

“ Now tell me, were you to know that there
was one man, a Mormon we will say, who had
been born a gentleman, possessed refinement
and education, loved you with his whole heart,
would you loathe hinié"

“I could not feel contempt, sir, even for a
brute that loved me; but I would shun such a
person as one I deemed not true and good.”

“Frankly answered, Miss Leroy: but now
tell me, if he swore to love you alone, only to
have you for a wife, and devote himself to you
until death, would you be content to marry
him?"

“ Never."

“ Under no circumstances 5”

“ None.”

“ I have your answer, but you shall have a
chance to retract it, for I tell you that I love
you, and that I will live for you alone, while,
if you refuse to become my wife, may God
have mercy upon you, for the fate you will
sufier, it will be beyond my power to prevent.

“That I love you, you know, and my ac-
tions go to prove, for I have sought to gain
you for my wife, Louise, for long years.

“See! now you know me as I am, and can
understand that my love for you alone led me
to deceive you and bring you here.”

He threw off his helmet and mask as he
spoke, and stood revealed before her.

“Rufus Yule!" she cried in a tone of an-
guish.

“ Yes, I am your protector you knew as the
Pilgrim Sharp,” was his low reply.

“A Mormon Danite,” she said with intense
scorn.

“Yes, and one who devotes his life to you,
Louise.

“Become my wife and save yourself from
the fearful doom that awaits you, if you re
fuse," and seizing her hand he dropped on his
knees before her.

CHAPTER XXXII.
CAUGBr IN A TRAP.

Wm Buckskin Moses saw that tho Danite
he was watching, was about to draw trigger
upon whatever, or whoeverhe had discovere
in the thicket, he threw forward his own wea-
pon and fired.

With the report the Danite dropped in hi

' tracks, still clutching his revolver, and, after a.

convulsive movement lay motionless.

The shot rattled cway among the hills like a
platoon of musketry, and then all was quiet
again, the two horses seeming hardly to notice
the discharge.

But Buckskin Moses kept his place behind
the pine tree, and waited, his weapon still in
hand.

He had not very long to wait, before he be-
held the top of the trees swaying at One place,
and then another as though some one was cau-
tiously making their way through them.

By keeping his eyes upon the moving
branches, he knew just when and where the
man would appear, who was coming out of the
thicket.

Presently a head was thrust cautiously forth,
and the Jew saw that the face was covered
with a red mask.

That the one who thus appeared beheld the
form of the dead man was evident, for qmckly
he jerked his head back, and for some moments
a dead silence followed.

Then the head again appeared, and this time
without a mask covering the fat.- -.

It was a dark, handsome face, of a man of
thirty, and wore the impress of one who had
led a wild life.

Cautioust the man stepped forth from the
thicket, and bent over the prostrate form at
his feet.

“ By Heaven! it is one of the Prophet’s spies,”
he cried, seeming to recognize the man, from
whom he tore the crimson mask.

“ Yes, he has been sent by the Prophet upon
my track.

“A thief sent to catch a thief, a spy upon a
spy.

 

“But who fired that shot?

“Ah! he had tracked me here, and was
perhaps going to kill me, when his revolver
went off accidentally and he fell by his own
hand.

“ So be it, I am in luck.”

“And so ish I, mine frient!"

The Danite started, turned, and then stood
motionless, for a revolver-.muzzle was pressed
hard against him, and just over his heart.

“That accursed Jew, as I live 1”

“Yesh, I ish t’o Jew, ant I t’inks det we
meets pei‘ore, for I knows you py t’e style of
you in generals.

" I ish glut to see you, mine frients.” .

“I cannot say the same for you, Jew; but
tell me, who killed that man!"

“ My pishtel vent off mighty suddint, ant he
dies mighty suddint too.”

“Yes, and I’ll have to take you in for a
highway robber, instead of a peddler, and to
kill a Dnnite is a bad business, you’ll find.”

“ Yesh, it‘s n pad pizziness; but I guess me
(lat I kills anoder one pretty quick.

“Now you joost keep stills, while I takes
somedings from you dat may go shoot mighty
quick.”

The Danite dared not move, and Buckskin
Moses disarmed him in a style that was neat
and thorough.

“Now you don’t hunt somepodies, and I fix
you potter ash dat."

Still keeping his revolver against the heart
of his prisoner, the Jew drew out a pair of
handcuffs and clasped them about the wrists
of the Danite.

“ For Heaven‘s sake, man, what do you
mean?” gasped the n0w thoroughly alarmed
Denim.

“I tell you pooty quick,” was the cool reply,
asthe Danite was made fast to a scrub pine.

Then entering the thicket, Buckskin Moses
came upon the cavern and its contents.

“ You hash got t’c pack-saddles mit to goolt
ant papers dat my pard ant myselfs vas fint in
Va grave, mine frient,” he said stepping out of
the thicket again. .

"It is gold intrusted to my care," sullenly
said the Danite.

“Vell, you ish lose him now.”

“ What] do you intend to rob me?”

“ No, I takes vet I vants all t’e same, ant I
vents it all.”

“ Curse you, Jew.”

“ Don’t do dot.”

“ Hear me!” and the man’s face brightened
at some sudden thought.

“Veil?”

“ There is a great deal of gold there?"

“ I sees him.”

“I will give you half of it, if you will re-
lease me, and together we will leave this
land.”

“ Mine frient, I have come here to stay, ant
vat for you gives me half, ven I hash got all
ter gooltl

“No, I ish got ter goolt, t’e papers, ant t’e
mans,” and Buckskin Moses laughed as though
he enjoyed the situation immensely.

“ What do you intend to do with me,
Jew?" ‘

“ You ish a Danite, don’t you?”

“ Yes.”

“ You hash t‘e rank of a sub-oflicerl”

“ I am an under-officer."

“ Vol], I knows dat you hash put up a leetle
game to run off mit dis goolt, out now you
hash corned back here for it.

“ Veil, if t’e chief knows vat you vas do, he
vill hang you pooty quick, don’t be?"

“ I did not do anything wrong.”

“Veil, I vill knows dat pooty quick, for I
goes to t’e city.”

“ To Salt Lake?"

“Yesh, my frient.”

“ They will string you up, sure."

“ Veil I don’t know ’boud dat.”

“They will do so, for these are troublous
times, and they’ll think you are a spy.”

“Vell I vas, maype.”

“ You’ll hang, sure, so you better dust out
of this with me, and share the gold.”

“ i don’t know apoud dat. ,

“I vill go to Salt Lake Ceety, mine frient,
and I vill go ash von Danite."

The Danite, in spite of his peril, laughed at
this, while he said roughly: ‘

“ A healthy Danite you’d make.”

“ I ish in potter he’lt’ now as you vas, for
you ish might die pooty quick,” and the Jew
touched his pistol, a circumstance that at once
drove the levity from the Danite's face. '

 

 

“ Well, what do you intend to do with me,
for precious time is being wasted," he asked in
a sullen tone.

“I vas in a hurry mineself; but I tells you
vat I do."

“Well, out with it, Jew.”

“ Maype you don’t like him, ven you hear
him."

“ Let me hear.”

“ Veil, I make a leetle pizziness mit you.”

“For God’s sake tell me!”

“ Veil, you ish tell me t'e signs of t’e Danites,
t’e passwords, give me t’e hand-grips, ant den I
vill let you go, ven 1 comes pack all right, ant
give you two of t’e gooit page, mit t’e goolt in
them.”

“ You are a fool!"

“ Veli, don’t I knows it, put you ish anoder
one bigger as I.”

“ Do you expect me to betray the Danites’
signs and signals to you 3"

“ Yesh.”

“You don’t know me, man.”

“ Veil, den ve get t’e petter acquainted, for
I takes you wit me.”

“ Where?"

“ To Salt Lake Ceety.”

“ Bah! you dare not go there.”

“ Veil, you vill see.

“I vill take t’e gooit, ant t‘e papers, and 1
vill tell Myuheer Brigham Youngs, dat I catch
you running off mit ’eiu, ant he vill be so tickle
as never vas ant make me a prophet mit t’e
Mormons.”

“ Do you mean this, Je\V!’” and the Danite
turned livid.

“ I does, so help me Moses, and dat ish my»
self, for I ish name Moses.”

“ And, if I give you the signs and grips, you
will let me go free, give me my horse, and
half the gold?”

“I vas not one tam fool dat I looks, mine
frient.

“I has sense, ant I has told you dat I gives
you two pags goolt, ant you can have von
horse, too.”

“Well, I will accept your terms.”

“ Dat ish gout, ant soon ash I flnt me out
dat you don’t tell me von tam lie, I vill let
you go.”

“What! do you intend to detain me until
you find out if I tell you right?"

“ Yeah, I vill take you mit some frients
0’ mine, ant leave you, until I tries mit t’e
signs.

“If I gits kilt, den you gits kilt py mine
frients.

“If I coomes pack, den you goes mit t’e
goolt.”

The Danite groaned at this, but he was in
the Jew’s power, as well he knew, and could
otter no word or act in resistance.

“ Curse you, Jew, you have me at your
mercy,” hissed the Danite.

“ Dat ish so,” was the laconic response.

“Well, I accept your terms, so let us have
the ordeal over with.”

The Jew made no reply, but stood in an at—
titude of listening.

Then he said, quickly:

“ Get in t’e cave pooty quick, for somepody
vas coom.”

“Release my hands and I will aid you to
stand ’em off," cried the Danite.

“ Veil, I vas not such a fool.

“ Git into t’e cave, ant I does t’e fighting fer
us both.”

The Danite dared not disobey, and disap-
peared in the thicket, Buckskin Moses follow-
ing him, just as two horsemen appeared in

light, comps up the narrow ledge toward the'

cavern.

Coming upon the horse of the dead Danite,
they lulled, as though for consultation, and
then came on slowly up the hi1),

Th“ they Were Danites their dress and
masks indicated. and yet Buckskin Moses did
not seem to be in the,1east disturbed by their
approach.

CHAPTER XXXIIL
run ENCOUNTER AT THE csvmuv.

THAT the two persons who were coming up
the ledge recognized the horse which they
came upon as one ,belonging to the Damte
band, there seemed no doubt, for they came
on with more assurance than before, as though
they did not anticipate meeting a foe.

, As they turned a bend in the rocky trail,

. i x
l \

 

The Pilgrim Sharp.

and came upon the pack-horse, and the animal
ridden by Leo, the Danite, whom the Jew
then had as a prisoner in the cavern, they came
to a halt.

But again seeming to recognize the horse of
the Damte as one they know well, they once
more came forward, riding almost up to the
thicket of pines.

As they came to a halt they started suddenly
at seeing an unexp:ctod personage step out of
the thicket and confront them.

They had anticipated seeing a Danite ap-
pear, but instead it was Buckskin Moses, and
he had them covered, in spite of their being
on their guard, as they thought, against sur-
prise.

“ Shentilmens, it ish potter ash you don’t
move, or you dies pooLy quickl"

There was something most ludicrous in the
words, and even more so in the appearance of
the speaker, and the two Danites burst out into
rude laughter.

“ It vas funny, don’t it? Veli, dat vas funny,
too.”

\Vith the last word the Jew sent a bullet
from each revolver through the hats of the
Danites, and the startled horses wheeled .so
suddenly as nearly to unseat their riders.

Believing that Buckskin Moses had intended
to kill them, and not daring to risk a run of it
down the steep ledge, the now thoroughly-
alarmed Danites wheeled their horses back to-
ward the thicket. at the same time drawing
their revolwrs and opening iii-e.

Buckskin Moses had simply desired to check
the rude laughter, and had not expected to
precipitate an encounter as he did.

But seeing that the two men were determined
to fight it out, he stood his ground unflinching-
ly, and the ring of his weapons was in chorus
with the rattle of theirs.

Perhaps half a dozan shots were exchanged
in as many seconds, and with a result that was
in favor of the Jew, for he stood unharmed in
his tracks while one Dauite lay dead at his feet
and the other dying.

“Well, Moses, starting a graveyard all to
yourself 9'”

Buckskin Moses started as the cheery voice
broke upon his ear, and beheld, just turning a
bend of the cliff none other than his old travel-
ing-companion Dave Harrington, while just
behind him came Lieutenant Eugene Crich-
ton. v

“ Oh! it vas you, Tave, vas it?” said Buck-
skin Moses, in his inimitany cool way.

“Yes, it was me and Lieutenant Crichton,
and we are on your trail."

“ How you vas!” said Moses to the lieuten-
ant, who replied: .

“Oh, we are all right, Buckskin Moses, and
we are glad to see that you are able to take
care of yourself, for I see three dead Danites
here which you have evidently just slain.”

“ Oh, I vas a terror, shentilmans, ven I gets
my back up.

“ Yesh, I joost kilt them two Danites, ant
that oder von vas my game a ieetie vile ago,
ant den dere ish anoder von vat vas all alive,
only I has got him fast in t'e caverns.”

An investigation by Daring Dave quickly
convinced the new-comers that Buckskin Moses
had told the truth, and the young courier was
delighted to find that the gold bags and papers
had been captured.

“I vas gist you vas coom, Tave, for I vants
a ieetle talk all py myself axis to Danites shen-
tilmans, ant den I vauts you to keep him until
I cooms back.

“ I! I don’t cooms back, den kill him right
away quick.

“Does you hear vat I say, Danitesi” and he
turned to the sullen captive.

H Yes.”

‘ Veil, ven I cooms hack, t’e shentilmans
vill he allowed to go, ant I gives him two page
of goolt.

“If I don’t returns any more, den you vas
to kill him.”

“It shall be as you say, Moses; but where
are you going?" asked Dave.

“ I vas going somevere."

And more Buckskin Moses would not say;
but he asked the young officer to await him
there with Dave for a few days, perhaps a
week, and keep the Danite a prisoner until his
return.

Convinced now that the Jew was no spy,
after his encounter with the Danites, and as-
sured that he 'was bound upon some secret
service, which he hinted Would pan out well
.for the lieutenant as well as himself, Eugene

\
'\

 

19’

Crichton consented to remain at the cavern
with Daring Dave, and securely guard the
prisoner.

“We will head old Jim Bridger of! as he
goes by, lieutenant, and then we will be a
team to stand any Dnnites off that may come
along,” said Dave, and, while the young courier
went to hunt up the old scout, the lieutenant
set to work to make the place as comfortable
as he could for their stay there. ,

In the mean time Buckskin Moses led tiei
Danite one side, and had a long and earnest
talk with him.

Now and then the lieutenant saw the Jew
write something down on a piece of paper, and
then read it over to the Danite.

After this Buckskin Moses entered the cabin
and, opening the iron and tin boxes, took out
the papers and bidding the lieutenant not to
allow the Danite to escape, started upon his
way.

“ One week you say, Moses?” called out the
lieutenant.

“ Yesh, von veek I does not coom pack,
joost kill t’e Danites, for he viii pe a traitors
vat gets me into troubles.”

“ I‘ll see that you are avenged, Moses,” re-
turned Eugene Crichton.

“ Dat vas goat,” and Buckskin Moses trudged,
on his way, and soon disappeared from sight.

Soon after Daring Dave came up the ledge.
accompanied by Jim Bridger, the scout, whom
he had luckily met on the trail as he was about
to turn up the gorge where the Jew had gone
into camp.

As they joined Eugene Crichton the latter
said:

“Dave, I have a little plan of my own u:
hand, and I am convinced that your Jew
friend can help me carry it out, so you remain
here with Bridger, and look after the prisoner
and the horses, while I go with Moses.

“ If he aids me well and good; but it not I
shall return at once."

80 saying, Eugene Crichton started on after
the Jew, leaving the old scout and Daring ,
Dave in charge of the cavern, theprisoner,
and the horses of the Danites.

CHAPTER XXXIV.
a rsmnous UNDERTAKING.

WHEN Eugene‘Crichton left the cavern on '

the ledge, he wended his way down the hill-
side to where his horse and the one belonging
to Daring Dave had been left when they went
up the mountain trail.

Mounting his own animal, a superb black,
and leaving Dave’s horse for his master to
come after, he rode rapidly down to the gorge
where he and the courier had discovered th ‘
Jew?s night encampment. I

Buckskin Moses was just ready to start, and ,
looked up in surprise when he behold the lien-
tenant riding up.

“Moses, I have come after you for a par- ‘
ticular reason,” said the lieutenant, dismount—
ing and approaching the Jew. \

“ Veil, vat vas t'e reason dat vas so particu-
lar, looten’tl” asked the Jew.

“I am convinced that you are not what you
seem, or would appear.” ‘

“ I vas Moses Mordecai from Baltimore, an’
vat Vane calls Buckskin Moses t’e Jew scout.”

“ You may be Moses Mordecai; but that you
have come out here toseii goods, and are now
risking your life to goto the Mormon camps, ,
I do not believe.”

“ Veil, vat I goes for, if it don’t pa for blui- »
nessi"

“That question I cannot answer; but I will
say that whatever your motive, I have one
equally as strong for desiring to go into the
Mormon lines, and I wish to accompany you.”

“ A poor Jew peddier can goes vere a shen-
tilmens soldiers vill get kilt.”

“ I’ii risk it, for I believe you have it in 5’0“?
power to protect me.” k

“ How I get t’e powers?” . .

“ At first I feared you Were playing a part.
for the Mormons; but now I know you to be
true, and more, that you have.the pluck to
face any danger, in spite of your assumed. .
timidity.

“Miss Leroy, the niece of my colonel, is in
the power of the Dauites. and I confess to you-

that I am engaged to her, and that I love her  r

with all my heart.

“What may be her fate, GOd only knows, .. ,  

if she is not rescued soon.

3"“: u | ’ \

 

“a
«as
,

 

 

 

 

 

 

.\l'

u

y

,1

. I

20

The Pilgrim Sharp.

/

 

 

“ You are going into the Mormon lines, and
I ask to go with you, my friend.”

Buckskin Moses seemed touched by the words
and manner of the young officer, but said:

“How vas you go, mine frientl”

“I saw your long talk with the Danite you
captured, and I overheard your terms with
him, so I know that you forced from him all

.v the secret signs of the Danites, and intend to
use them for your own protection and ser-
vice.

“Now, I am willing, if you will only ini-
tiate me into the mysteries, to go as a Danite,
for I can return to the cavern and rig up in
the clothing of one of those you killed.”

,“Vell, dat ish goot, put it takes plenty of
vat you calls pluck.”

“ I will take the chances.”

“ Oh! you ish prave; but supposh dat ter
tam Danites tell me all wrong.”

“ Well, both you and I must take the risks
on that, and unless a. large force halts us, woe
be unto them.”

“Veil, dat ish goot moosic to sing, and I
pei'lievcs dat it vill pe all rights, ant I dinks I

‘ let you go mit me.”

“I thank you, Moses, from my heart," and
the young officer grasped the hand of the Jew,
who said quietly:

“Don’t you vas t’ank me nntils ve got out
mit t'e fires.

“But ve goes togeder, mine frient, ish dat
not so?”

' “ Yes, and I will hasten back to the cavern
and get one of those dead Dnnites’ suits to put
V 0n."
As he was turning away Buckskin Moses
" called out:

“ Don’t pa in a hurry, mine goot frient, for
I has t’e Danites’ clot’in’ here.”

“ You have?”

‘.‘ Yesh.”

, “ You surely have not Danite clothing in

your pack to sell?"

“No, but I vas have two suits of clot’es, dat
I borrow from 15’s Danitos shentilmens dot Tave
ant myself kilt mit t’e grave.”

“ Ah, ‘ yes, and you think they will do,

_Mose.=?”’

“Vol, I dinks t’ey ish goot, ant I hash dish
leetle t’ings vat Prigham Youngs put arount
t’e necks o’ t’e Danites, out it ish goot to push
him all arount.

“ Now let me told you vat you vents to
know.”

Buckskin Moses then took out the piece of
paper which Eugene Crichton had seen him
making notes upon when he was talking with
the Danite, and taught the young officer all the
secret symbols which he had learned from his
prisoner.

“ Now here ish t‘e clote’s,” and he took a sdit of
Danite clothing from his pack. and Eugene Crich-
ton was seen rigged out in the sable attire, while

. upon his face was the red mask, and his hands
were incased in the crimson gauntlets.

“.Now ve vill go, mine frient, ant remember
you ish a Danite,” and remounting their horses,
the two set forth together upon their most
perilous undertaking, the Jew’s patient mule
following upon their heels, and 'caring little
whether he served Jew, Gentile or Mormon.

l

 

CHAPTER XXXV.
'rnn DANITE ,cnmr‘s BLACK TRAIL.
TEE fact that he was watched by the Pro-

"  phet made Major Jack De Lee go with can-



tion.
Before he had started for the East he had the

 ‘ full confidence of his chief, and was given un-

limited powors; but he had kept very silent
upon the reasons of his Eastern trip, and with
envious enemies, ever ready to sow the seed of

f, ' “discord, he found that Brigham Young had

'2
it

 

changed toward him.

Not that he openly showed any change, but
secretly he was watching the major through
his spies. ,

It having been whispered that there was
woman in the case, it naturally arose in the
mind of the head Mormon, why was the Dan-
ite officer playing a secret part regarding her,
‘unless it was from fear of his Prophet?

With the full knowledge that he was under
espionage, Major De Lee yet went about his
duties as though wholly unconscious of the
fact. . ‘
His having caught one of the known secret
spies of the Prophet upon his track, and who

 

had trailed him to the Bird-cage in the mount-
ains where he had so long kept Flo, his young
wife, hidden, convinced him that he must be
most cautious.

“I will not trust any man to dispose of that
spy’s body, but do it myself," he said, as he
rode away from the cabin, after his interview
,with Louise Leroy.

That interview had turned out differently
from what he had hoped.

A man of superb presence, of winning man-
ners, and fascinations of an uncommon order,
he had found few women whose hearts he
could not touch.

As the young step-brother of Colonel Lewel—
lyn, it will be remembered that he had met
and loved Louise Leroy, then a more child.

He had been thrown much with her, and
had he been different, as she grew in years,
there is little doubt but that he would have
won her heart.

But his was a nature naturally inclined to
the bad, and his wild ways soon warped him
from all good, and even his love for Louise
could not check him in his downward course.

His wild escapades soon terminated in an
affair that sent him flying for his life to the
wilds of the West, and soon it became whis»
pered about that he was dead.

Better would it have been ,. had he met with
his death as reported, than to have cast his lot
as he had done with the Mormons, and become
one of the most bitter of the Danite band, and
the most cruel, thereby making himself greatly
feared.

Having gotten a large fortune by his mar-
riage with his first wife, a young lady of
Baltimore, whom he had deceived as ho had

poor Flo, the greed of gold seized upon him, ‘

and he sought to enrich himself by just such
alliances again, and a cruel fate led him to
the village where he rescued the maiden from
the ice, to win her love and cruelly deceive
her.

With no real reason for his acts, other than
that he wished to keep his wives out of the
sight of the Prophet and all else, he acted se-
cretly, and he had been wedded to his first
wife for long months before it was known that
he was married.

Then her death followed, from some un-
known cause, and Flo became the next victim.

It was to get all of Flo’s property converted
into money that he had gone East, so he told
her; but he had also another motive which he
kept from her.

That motive was the abducting of Louise
Leroy.

Knowing that her uncle, his step-brother,
was out in Wyoming with his regiment, and
that her lover, Lieutenant Eugene Crichton
was with him, he concocted his plans to get
possession of her.

He got from the post some of the ofiicial
paper, and, an accomplished penman imitated
the writing of both Colonel Lewellyn and
Lieutenant Crichton, and wrote letters to her,
which the reader has seen wholly deceived
her.

The mails were very infrequent then, from
that far post, and lying in wait with some of
his Danite band, he captured the courier and
took from him the letter-bag, in which, as he
had expected, he found letters from the uncle
and lover to Louise.

These he broke open, read, and destroyed, so
that they should not conflict with those he had
to deliver, and then he betook himself eastward
with all dispatch. ‘

To transfer valuable real estate into money
was but short work, armed as he was from
Flo, with power of attorney, and this done he
set about the devilish work of kidnapping poor
Louise.

She thought him dead until she received a
letter from him, saying that he yet lived, had
reformed, joined the army, and would soon
visit her with letters from her uncle and Lieu-
tenant Crichton, who had deputized him to act
as her escort to the West.

0! course the unsuspecting girl fell into the
trap, and, through the devilish ingenuity of the
wicked man had been safely taken to the cabin
in the Mormon hills, with a result which is
known.

But Louise Leroy was no timidhearted
maiden, and she defied the man though she
knew she was wholly in his power.

Could he force her to become his wife, her
property he knew, being in her own right, he
would get possession of, as he had that of his
first wife and F10. '

 

And more, he really loved, as much as' his
selfish heart was capable of loving, the lovely
girl.

She was the one love (if his life, and he was
determined that she should become his wife,
even if he had to put Flo out of the Way to
make her such.

Finding that 'the two were known to each
other, having been schoolmates together, he
dared not let them meet, so Flo was taken to
Salt Lake City, while Louise was kept a pris-
oner in the mountains.

Leaving the cabin, after being defled by
Louise Leroy, Major De Leo went the rounds
of his lines, saw that every outpost was doing
its duty, and the camps ready to meet an at-
tack at a moment’s notice.

Then, as it was sunset, he returned by the
cabin, sought the bowlder where he had killed
the spy, and found him lying just as he had
left him.

“ I am glad old Batty has not found him,”
he muttered, as he raised the body in his strong
arms and bore it to his horse.

Throwing it across the back of his animal,
be mounted and rode away, seeking a pitfall
which he knew of in the mountains, and hurling
into its dark depths the man he had slain.

Relieved of his load, the horse was then
urged swiftly on toward the city, and an hour
after Major De Lee dismounted at the house
of the Prophet and made his report in person,
that he had visited every outpost.

“You have done a hard day’s work, Do
Lee, and you deserve credit for it.

“By the way, I called upon your wife to-
day, and I found her a most beautiful and
charming person.

“ As she is a stranger in our midst I wished
her to feel that she was among friends.

“ You are to be envied, De Lee, the possession
of so lovely a bride.”

The Prophet spoke indiflerently, but he had
his eyes upon the major-’5 face, reading the
effect of his words.

But no sign betrayed that Jack De Lee was
displeased at the Prophet’s visit to his home,
and he departed in the most cheerful humor.

Going to his own house, he was met by Flo,
who had kept supper waiting for him, as he
told her he would return late.

She told him of the visit made her, said she
had found the Prophet a most charming man,
and that after all Mormonism might not be so
terrible a thing to believe in.

De Lee eyed her closely, to note if she was
sincere, and yet could see no reason to doubt
that she was.

“Where is Louise Leroy, Jacki” she asked,
after a while.

He started at the question, but she seemed
not to notice it, and he answered:

“ Flo, for your sake I have sent her back to
her friends.”

“Bless you, Jack, for those words, for loving
you as I do, I cared not to share that love with
another, and especially with one whom I re-
gard as I do Louise.

“ And then, poor girl, I fear it wonld break
her heart to bedeceived in you, for she must
love you now, believing you to be diflerent
from what you are.

“ I am so glad, Jack.”

“ I did it for your sake, Flo,” he repeated.

“ And sent her to her uncle, whom you said
was with the army near?" ‘ r _

“Yes, she left under an escort the first
thing this morning, after I arrived in the
mountains.”

“ She was there then?”

“Yes,” and seemingly fretted at her ques‘
tions, he changed the subject abruptly, for in
spite of his life of deception Jack De Lee could
not deliberately lie without blushing.

CHAPTER XXXVI.
LOUISE Lnnov’s vrslron.

WHAT would be her fate Louise Leroy could
not conjecture. ‘

She had been threatened with a living death
by Jack De Lee if she refused to become his
wife.

She had been told that she would be forced
to marry some Mormon with half a dozen
wives, all of whom would tyrannize over her,
while if she became Mrs. De Lee she would be
happy, for loving her as he did, he would do
all in his p0wer;to make her life one of con-
tentment.

 

 

/

The Pilgrim sham

“ ~‘ ' ' 2r

 

 

He told her that he had sinned to get her
into his power, and that his idolatrous love
for'her was his only excuse for so doing, and
he begged to be forgiven for sweet love’s
sake.

Louise had listened, and through all had
been cold and defiant.

When the Danite chief left her, her cour—
age gave way and she burst into a torrent of
bitter tears.

“ I will die before I am sacrificedl" she said,
firmly.

“ But Eugene knows that I am a captive to
the Mormons, for I heard him call my name;
and he will rescue me, and my dear uncle will
not let them keep me here, I know.

“ I will not give up hope, for I feel all must
come right; no matter how dark the skies are
now, there is a silver lining upon the horizon
for me.”

Having thus buoyed herself up with hope
she became more cheerful, and throwing upon
her shoulders at light shawl, she strolled out of
doors.

She saw that her every movement was
closely watched by both old Batty and his
wife, and knew how impossible it was for her
to attempt to escape.

“ If I had a good horse I believe I could
reach our lines after nightfall,” she said.

Then it struck her as a good idea to attempt
to bribe old Batty or his wife, and perhaps
both, so she called to the old man, who was
near.

“ Well, miss?” he said with respect.

“Are you a Mormon, Batty?”

“ Yes, miss, I be."

“But you have only one wife, I believe!"

‘ “Yes, miss, fer I hain’t rich ter take keer
of no more, an’ wives is awful expensive crit-
turs."

“ Then you are poor?”

“Awful poor, miss."

“ I suppose you wouldn’t object to being
rich?”

“Lordyl no, miss, I’d like it.”

“Doubtless; but what would you consider
enough to make you rich?”

“Well, miss, if I had a nice little farm, and
it paid for, with a home comfortably furnished,
some cattle and a. couple of horses, and just
enough in the bank for a rainy day, I’d think I
were a rich man.”

“ All of which would amount to only about
ten thousand dollars.”

“ Yes, miss.”

‘ Well, Batty, I can tell you how you can
make that sum.”

“For Lordy’s sake how, miss?” /

“I will give it to you.”

‘6 T)

“Yes, Batty, I will give you ten thousand
dollars, if you will do as I ask you.”

“What is that, miss?"

“How many horses are there in yonder log
stable?”

“ Three, miss.”

“Just the right number for our use, and I
want you and your wife to start with me to-
night for the lines of the United States army,
and once there you are safe, and I will see
that you have a nice farm, cattle and furni-
ture, and a few thousand in bank, while, as
security, I will turn over to you my diamonds
which I have with me, and which cost double
the sum you wish to make you rich.”

“I cannot do it, miss, much as I’d like
tor.”

“ Why can you not?”

“ Why, miss, the Danites would track me to
the end of the yarth, and kill both old Bess and
myself.

“ It are a dream, miss, a dream 0’ hope and
joy for me, but ther waking up would prove it
were a nightmare.

“ No, miss, no; much as I pity you, and
would like to serve you, even for your own
sake and not the money, neither Bess or my-
self would do it for ten times ten thousand
dollars, for we knows what Danites be and we
has had reason to know that nobody is safe as
betrays them.”

Louise Leroy was a good reader of human
nature, and she saw at once that the man’s su.
perstitious horror of his own people would pre-
Vent bribery, and that no sum could move him.

He loved gold, but he loved life more.

But she was determined to try the wife, and
asked him to call old Bess.

Batty did so, and then Louise repeated her
tempting ofler, and with the same result, for
the old woman trembled with terror at the

\

 

thought of listening to temptation for an in-
stant.

Foiled, Louise felt that she must seek escape
through some other channel, and asked if they
knew of any Danite of the band that could be
bribed.

Indeed they did not, and if they did, it would
be their duty to at once inform their chief.

In asking them about Major De Lee, she dis-
covered how well trained they were, for,
though she saw traces that the cabin had had a
fair occupant before she came, neither Batty nor
his wife seemed to know that such had been the
case, and said that the cabin had been built for
the major’s own pleasure, when he wanted a
few days’ rest to himself.

Still, with every obstacle against her escape,
Louise did not despair, and that night sat by
her window gazing out upon the starlit night
and thinking and plotting.

Suddenly she beheld a horseman appear in
full view, and, watching him, saw him ride a
short distance up the mountain side.

The starlight showed her that be halted, dis-
mounted and raised something to the back of
his horse.

Then he sprung into his saddle and moved
slowly away.

But as he passed near the cabin she recog
nized the form of Major De Lee. '

“ What can he want here?" she murmured.

“ And what was it that he carried away
with him?”

She soon after retired, but early in the
morning was up and wending her steps toward
the spot where she had seen the major halt and
dismount.

Batty was watching her, but pretending to
gather wild flowers, she strolled along until she
came to the bowlder.

Then she started, for she saw the grass
pressed down, as though some heavvyr object had
lain there, and, worse still, there was a large
pool of blood' there.

“ it was either a. dead body or a wounded
man be bore away.

“Ah! I remember the shot I heard while he
was here in the morning, and Batty told me
the major had fired at a bird.

“ The shot was at a human being, I now feel
convinced, and he came back last night to
remove the body.

“ I shall accuse him of it, and mark well his
face.”

Listlessly she passed the forenoon, trying to
read, trying to play upon a guitar she found
in the cabin, but with no pleasure in aught she
did.

Always the lynx eyes of the old Mormon and
his wife were upon her, until she grew nervous
under their gaze.

After dinner she threw herself into a ham-
mock swung between two trees, for a siesta,
for he had really enjoyed the meal, old Bess
being an adept at the culinary art. o

By degrees she lost consciousness in sleep,
and awake with a start, asa sound near by
fell upon her ears.

She sprung from the hammock, to find a
horseman near, talking with Betty.

“ I have come from the chief to see the
lady under your charge,” she heard the horse-
man say.

“She is there, sir, and I will tell her,” an-
swered Batty, who seeing that she was awake,
called out:

“A messenger from the major, miss.”

Louise saw a man of slender form, clad in
deep black, and wearing 'the red mask and
gloves which indicated his belonging to De Lee’s
secret league of Danites.

He sprung from the saddle as he saw her,
fastening his horse to a tree, and advancing to-
ward her said politely:

“ I have a letter for you, Miss Leroy.”

He held forth the letter as he spoke, but
continued: .

“If you will accompany me to that seat,
I will explain the letter, if you do not under-
stand it.”

There was something about the man that
seemed to show her he wished to get out of
earshot of Batty, and she quietly walked to
the rustic seat, a few rods from the house, and
which had been Flo’s favorite retreat.

“Be seated, miss, and showno surprise as
you read the letter, for Betty’s eyes are upon
you. ,

“ Here are two letters, one written by
Major De Leo, the other by another person,
whose name you will recognize.

W “ Read the former letter first, please. ” '

 

Louise gazed fixedly upon the masked face,
but could not penetrate the shield, and, while
her heart throbbed with a sudden hope, she
broke the heavy Danite seal, and read:

“ HOME.
“ My DEAR Lomsnz—

“I send vou a line by messenger, to say that I
will be too busy for the next few dag: to see, you, ,
andtreceive your reply, as to what fa you will so
ce ),

‘lThnt is, whether you will become my wife, or be
sacrificed to another.

“ It lies in your power to decide your own destiny,
as to whether you will live with one who loves on,
and lives for you alone, or meet a doom than w ich
death were far referable. /

" I love you, .ouise, and I beg lyou to cling to me.

"One week from trrdayl cal for your answer,
and Heaven grant that it be that you will accept
the alternative, for I will devote my life to your
happiness. Yours, hoping and waiting,

“DI: LEI."

A look of scorn passed over the face of
Louise Leroy as she read this letter, and the
messenger stood the while attentively regard-
ing her.

“Now the other, miss, and you will see that ‘
it has not the Danite seal, and is from a
friend.”

“A friend?” ,

“Yes, miss.” '

“Ahl ‘I have no friends in this hated land of
Mormons,” sighed the maiden.

“ Perhaps you have, miss.

“The letter will tell you, only show no sign,
if you get good tidings in it.” '

“ You give me hope, sir.

“ Is that hope to to be blasted?" eagerly said
Louise.

“The letter will tell,” was
swer.

She attempted to open the letter, but her'
hand trembled, and she waited an instant to
gain command over herself, for he said warn-- '
ingly, and in a low earnesttone:

“For God’s sake be calm, for that old man
is the Veriest slave of Major De Lee, and did
he suspect wrong, he would give the signal to
the Danite camps upon the hills above, and
your life and mine would be the sacrifice.”

“Then you are indeed my friend, for your

the quiet an-

i

J.

words tell me so, and I will show no foolish, 

weakness,” and with a mighty eflort Louise

controlled herself, and with a firm hand opened A

the second letter, and doing so in a way that de— .
ceived old Batty as to its being a second epistle,
for, since the offer she had made him, the old
guard had become doubly watchful over her
every movement, well knowing that she had it
in her heart to escape.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
A meanness. or GLAD names.

WHEN the eyes of Louise Leroy fell upon
the writing, in the letter before her, she saw
that it was written in a familiar hand.

Yet who the writer was she could not then ’ ,i.

recall, though she knew that often before aho‘
had seen the writing.

She did not betray any sign- at this, dis- J 1:. 5‘

covery, and glanced up at the messenger, ‘who
stood a short distance from her, leaning against

4 :

 

 

a tree, his arms folded upon his breast, and 

his eyes gazing directly upon her, through the ‘ '

holes in his crimson mask.

gan the reading of the letter, and which was
as follows: ‘ ~ .
“ Sam Lnn Om.
I“Au t10th,1857.  V
“ Do not start, my dear Louise, w en you seethis
familiar writing from an old friend for Iwrlte, u’
therfi is no chance to see you and talk with you.
.. 0
in dear old Boston—"

“It is from my dear old room-mate, Flora,”

said Louise in an undertone, and eagerly she '

went on reading the letter:

“Those days I can never forget, though now my

life is sadly changed since then, for now I am away \ ‘

out here in Mormon~land. "

“What can Flora be doing here?” said Louise .

musingly.

“The letter msyexplain," suggested the" '

messenger, overbearing the remark.
Again she continued reading:

“ Yes, I am here in this wild land, and, worse than
all I am a Momon wife, Louise. .

“ Do not shrink from me in horrorat my confession, »
for-I was wooed and won by a maul believed the '
soul of honor ,.

‘1 Be saved’my life oneda) , when I broke through

I

With another effort at self-control, she be- ‘

 

you recall our days at Madam Dana I school - I "

 

 

   

\

pug,

 

/.

x

The Pilgrim? Sharp.

 

2116 ice while skating, and from that moment I loved
in ‘

“ All other suitors, all other friends were cast aside
for him, and I came with him.

“ I believed that he was an od‘lcer of the army of
the United States and lcame to his mountain home,
the same cabin where you are now a prisoner, and
theil‘e lived for long months, ay for a year, happy in

ova.

“But the mist drifted awa from before my life,
and his own words told me w o and what he was.

~- Told me (mt he was a Mormon. a Danite chief,
and that I was his second wife, his other victim, for
victim she must have been, having died before he
met. me.

" ’l‘hen, Louise, I hated him Oven more than I had
loved him, and especially the more, when I learned
from him that I was not to be his only wife, for that
the Pro het commanded him to take another.

“ He ad been t and, under my own signatures,
secured all or my property in old and thou toldnie
that he had been robbed o it by United States
soldiers who attacked him.

“This left me poor and friendless, for he is my toe
now; but I swore revenge against him, and I played
well my part.

"He told me to go with him to his home in Salt
Lake City, and I did so.

“ He swore that he loved me alone, and would live
for me alone.

" But he had told me that his other wife that was to
be, was none other than you, my or dear Louise.

“ Ah mel that he should inten to drag you into
the depths as he has me.

‘ “ Pretending to trust him, I came to the Mormon
city with him, and now I know that it was but to
leave the mountain cabin for you.

" Feeling that he has deceived me although he
told me but this morning that he had returned you
to your uncle in the United States army, I deter-
mined to know the truth.

" I saw him write a letter, and call to a servant to
send it by a Danite messen or to the mountains.

“ Then he departed, and saw that the letter was
addressed to you.

“1 called to the servant, told him I would call a
messenger, and send the letter.

“Then I secret] robed myself in the Danite uni«
form, mounted a orse he had given me and I am
before you now in disgmse, and bid you hope. for I
will save you.

FIDRA."

The letter dropped from the hand of Louise
Leroy, and stooping quickly the disguised
Flora picked it up and handed it to her, while
she said warningly:

“ Be calm, Louise, and all will be well.

“I return to the city now, but expect each
night to have me come for you, and I will lay

1 my plans so well there will be no mistake, and
together we will fly from this hated man and
his hated people.”

Then saluting politely the supposed Danite
turnEd, mounted his horse and rode away,
leaving Louise Leroy almost dazed by all that
had occurred.

 

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
FACING Tun onus.

BOTH Buckskin Moses and Eugene Crichton
fully understood the peril they were entering
upon in going into the Mormon lines.

0! course the Jew had the least danger to
run, for he had the wares to help out his story,
and the fact that he knew he would realize
largely upon them, as the thing: were just such
as the Mormons would wish at that time,
while communication was cut of! with outside
trade, and everything in the pack of Buckskin
Moses seemed to have been selected with an
eye to just what was desirable.

Had he been alone, he might pass without
trouble in and out of the Mormon city; but in
taking the young oflioer with him he knew that
the chances were greatly against him, for, it
Crichton was discovered to be a spy, he might
be the suflerer from having been caught in bad

company.

Still he did not shrink from the greater risk,
and, as the two went along together they prac-
ticed the signs, signals and symbols, which
Leo Fane the Danite had given to the Jew as
correct.

Buckskin Moses had also generously given to
the young oflicer the symbol of protection,
hung about his neck by Brigham Young, tell-

ing him that in case they separated, he would.

need its protection, and added:

“My pack vill protect me pooty sure.”

Eugene Crichton took the symbol, but under
protest, and the two continued on their way
until they met the first danger.

/“ Dore ish a sentinels," said Buckskin Moses,
pointing to a horsean who was not for dis-
tant, having just ridden over the hilltop.

“ Yes, and he is a Danite.

“ Now I will try the virtue of our signs and
passwords, and if I find they are wrong, you;
der Danito will be out OK suddenly in his use-
fulness,” was the cool reply of the dragoon ot—
floor

0

 

“Vell, den, you runs for it like t’e tuyvil,
ant I vil ’no’ uotings about you, it dere pes
blenty mores.

“Put if dere pes only a few of t’e Danites,
den ve kin kilt ’em pooty quick.”

“You don’t seem to be very Scary, Buckskin
Moses,” said the lieutenant.

“ Vell, I don’t vas so scary as I looks, may-
p9."

The Danito, now visible, barring the trail
ahead, was without doubt a sentinel.

He was well—mounted and wcll»armed, and
had his Mississippi yuyer lying across his sad-
dle-bow ready for instant use.

Of course the appearance of the Danite with
the Jew would indicate that no enemies were
approaching; but still he did not appear to be a
man to trust wholly in appearances, and was
not to be caught napping.

“ Halt!"

The command of the Danite sentinel was
promptly obeyed, and instantly Eugene Crich-
ton made a signal with his right hand. It
seemed to be understood by the Danite, for he
called out:

“ Advance, Nuuvoo J”

“ Nauvoo advances!” was the prompt re-
sponse, and the guard then pointed his rifle up
in the air.

Taking his own weapon, a Colt’s repeating
rifle, Eugene Crichton pointed its muzzle to-
ward the earth, and the guard sung out as
though satisfied:

“ Ay, ay, come on!”

“Nauvoo advances,” said the dragoon, and
he beckoned to the Jew to come on, for, in
going through these maneuvers be had ridden
in alone, halting within a few yards of the
Danite sentinel, and both had spoken in a low
tone, which did not reach the ears of Buckskin
Moses.

“Vel, it is pooty goot so far.” will lIosss, as
he rode up to the side of the otfimr.

“Yes, the prisoner told you 1 ight, and so far
all is Well,” and then addreseing the sentinel,
Eugene Crichton continued:

“Well, comrade, I have picked up a. Jew
peddler, and he is on his way to the city.”

“He had better not go through the Danite
camps, or devil a dollar will he ever get for
his pack," said the other.

“Oh, yes, he will, for he has a symbol of
protection from the Prophet, who allowed him
to go off to buy wares and bring them in.

“ Then he hints that he has news from John-
son’s army up toward Fort Bridger.”

“Ahl then I guess you are not the greeny
you look, Jew."

“ I vas pooty green," was the laconic re—
sponse.

“ Self-praise is half scandal, they say, Jew,"
laughed the Danite.

“ Vas dat so?”

“Yes; but to which band do you belong,
pard’t” and the Danite turned to Eugene Crich-
ton, who said, indiflerently:

“ I do not get your meaning, comrade."

“Are you of the Black Band, under Major
De Lee, or from the Red Band of Captain
Floriottt”

“ Ah! I understand you now.

“ I belong to Major De Lee’s band."

“I See that you do not wear your rosette,
so I could not tell.”

The quick eye of the officer caught sight of
a small, red rosette upon the breast of the
Danite guard, and he said, as he put his hand
upon the spot where he lelt he should have
one: i

“ I must have dropped my rosette, for I see
that it is gone; but come, Jew, let us go on."

“You won’t open your wares here, Jew, will
you, so the boys up in the camp over yonder
can have a look?" asked the Danite.

“No, mine frient, I was just go to see t’e
Prophet, Prigham Yoongs.”

“Yes, the big-bugs get the choice in this
world's goods,” sighed the Danite, as the two
friends rode on.

“ Vel, loot’nent, I vas forgot spout dst tam
rosette; but I has von here in my pack,” said
the Jew, drawing out a small sable rosette and
handing it to the young dragoon, who at once
pinned it upon his breast with the remark:

“ Well, Moses, we passed through that
ordeal all right.”

“ Dnt vas so, put ve ish not out mit t’e
voods yet— Holy Isaacs! look vot 0001116!”

The dragoon saw what was coming, and it
was by no means a pleasant sight, for along
the trail came at a canter a spirited stood, and
upon his back was a rider, whom even at that

 

distance Eugene Crichton recognized as the
Danite leader.

Behind him, riding by twos, were a score of
Dnnite horsemen, and to escape them there
was no chance whatever, and both Buckskin
Moses and the drugoon knew that they must
face the consequences.

But neither winced at the danger, and only
set their lips firmly to meet the result, bring
it what it might to them, life or death.

CHAPTER XXXIX.
IN LUCK.

UPON discovering the supposed Danite and
his strange companion, Major Jack De Leo
drew rein and eyed them through his mask
with a look which of course they could not
comprehend the nature of, not being able to
see his face.

“ Well, sir, where are you going!” said the
major, sternly, addressing the Danite.

“ I am off duty, sir, from illness, and re-
turning to the city camps,” was the cool reply,
and delivered with a presence of mind that
made the Jew feel that he need not have any
doubt of the nerve of his companion under
circumstances most trying.

“ And where did you pick that thing up?”

The remark of the major caused his Danite
escort to laugh.

And no wonder, for Buckskin Moses was a
most ludicrous—looking personage, especially
taking his whole outfit together.

His horse, as I have said, was 8. hide of
bones and seemed never to have been fat, but
there was that about the animal which made
him a most animated skeleton when occasion
needed, for he had both speed and bottom.

His bones had been economized by the Jew
to hang a. net on, and to this were fastened
various wares which rain and the dust of travel
would not injure.

In fact the horse carried a very respectable
tin store upon his back in addition to his
master.

The master’s get-up was peculiar and the
worst for wear, while his physiognomy was
most striking, his nose being almost a deformity
in book and size, and a pair of spectacles which
rested upon it giving the idea that they held it
in place.

His beard was short, unkempt, and his hair
long and matted, while his face had two
marked expressions, one a cunning leer, and
the other a look of fright.

He was rather stout, of good size, and sat his
horse with an ease which his pack-mule, in his
tantrums, had been unable to disturb, although
he had' frequently hung back on the lariat
suddenly, in a vain hope of dragging his master
to term firma. _

The mule’s pack was enormous, but did not
in the least disturb his muleship, who trotted
along under his load with an indifference born
of a patient nature.

At the remark of the major 'as to who and
what the Jew might be, Eugene Crichton
laughed lightly, and said:

“ That is something I picked up, sir, back on
the trail, and he has letters for the Prophet, he
says.”

“ Hal say you so?

“Give me the letter, my man!"

“Ish you Prigham Yoongs, for I can’t see
your face?”

“ No, I am the Danite chief.”

“ Vell you don’t vas t’e man dat I vents, for
dese bapers ish for tor Brophet, Prigham
Yoongs.”

“ But I will deliver them to him.”

“Do you t’inks I vas 9. tools?”

“ No, you don’t look it; but who gave you
the papers?” ,

“ It you vas go mit me to de Brophet you
vill know all apout hims, put I don’t give nod-
ings avay.

“ Dat was not pizziness, mine frient."

The major laughed, and said:

“ Well, I have not time to go with you, but
you can go on to the city and my soldier will
show you the way— By the way, Jew, have
you any attire for ladies in your pack?” .

“ Vell, I don’t be such 8 tools ash to comes
toa blace vere dere ish blenty wifes to one
mans unt don’t pring t’e nick-necks for t’o
vimmins.

“.I gits my heat broke it I do.”

“You understand the sex, I see; but I want

\

 

 

 

-’ and give me the change when next I see you.
land Major De Lee thrust a roll of bills into the i

-—-_u

__.

 

The Pilgrim  I

237 "

 

you to go by my cabin in the mountain - you
know where it i> soldier!”

“ Yes, sir,” promptly said Eugene Crichton,
whom he addressed.

“ And ask the lady,” continued De Lee,
“whom you will find there, if she wishes to I
purchase anything from you.

“If so, you pay him his price, my man, i
n l

.hand of the dragoon, who answered:

“ I will obey you, sir.”

Without another word the Danite chief rode
on, his men joking the Jew as they passed him,
and then the dragoon and Buckskin Moses con—
tinued on their way, the latter remarking:

“ Vell, dot vas luck ebery time, don’t it!"

“Yes, Moses, we are in luck, and now we
leave to‘ find the cabin in the mountains, for I
believe that there is the cage in which he has
hidden away the one I seek.

“ Come, let us press on, and in some way we
must find the cabin.

“ Ah! there comes another Danite. V

“They are as thick as blackberries in these
bills, and it is well I have not pushed on too
far when out scouting with my company, or
death or defeat would have followed.

“We’ll learn from that fellow, Moses, just
where the cabin is.”

“ Dot vas so; he’s got von tongue, ant he
must talk wit it," was the laconic response of
the Jew.

The one they had descried was another sab1e~
clad, red-masked and gloved horseman, mount‘
ed upon a black horse, and was coming along
at a cantor.

How to get from him the desired informa-
tion, Eugene Crichton had not thought of, but
to halt him was the first move, and circum-
stances must govern the rest.

But he must be made to tell, even if, as
Buckskin Moses had hinted, the information had
to be forced from him.

“Hello, pard, what'has you got there?” sung
out the Danite, drawing rein as he came nearer.

“ A notion store on horseback,” responded
Eugene Crichton.

“ Wal, it looks it, and that’s the boss on the
bone-rack, isn’t it?” and he took a critical sur-
vey of Moses, who answered:

“Yesh, I vas t’e boss, out I v von Jew."

“ You look it, pard, but wher are you tak-
ing it?”

“ The major passed him through the lines to
the city, for he has papers of importance for
the Prophet, and told me to show him by the
way of the mountain cabin.”

“ Ahl by the Bird-cage, where that Angel of
the Mountains dwells, pard’l"

U Yes.”

“ You is Nick Foster, hain’t you?”

“Yes,” said Eugene Crichton, and he added:

“ You are Leo Fans, are you not?”

“ Nary, pard, and I don’t know whar Leo is.

“I be Dan Sloan.” ‘

“Oh, yes, I know you now, Dan," and Eu-
gene Crichton mentally flattered himself upon
his having rapidly become a monumental liar.

“ How far is the major ahead?" asked the
Danite. '

“About half a mile, Dan."

“ Whew!”

“Why, you can soon overtake him.”

“That is just what I don't want to do, for I
am 03? duty, and was riding up to the camps to
have a game of cards with the boys, and the
chief don’t like card-playing in the outposts in
these ticklish times."

“ Well, we can’t blame him, Dan."

“No, Nick, we can’t."

“Let me see you a minute, Dan,” and the
pretended Nick Foster motioned to the Danite
to ride one side with him.

“ Wan], what are it, Nick?

“ Does yer intend fer go through ther Jew’s
pack. and tumble him over Dizzy Falls?”

“ No; but I have a little biz in the city, and,
as it’s worth considerable to me to go on, I'll
give you a twenty to take the Jew on to the
Bird-cage.” ‘~

“ I’ll do it."

“Thankee, Dan; but mind you, don’t come
any funny business, for he carries dispatches
for the Prophet, and he’ll be looked after if he
don’t turn up.”

“I’m glad you told me, for I thought of
cutting his throat and going through his pack,
and then saying his old bones of a crittur went
tor pieces and tumbled over ther falls.” V

“That wouldn’t go down, Dan; but go on

 

now. as fast as you an.”

“ You mean as fast as his old cattle can, for
I’ve got a lightning goer here, Nick.”

“Yes, your horse is a good one, Dan,” and
then turning to the Jew, Eugene Crichton
called out:

“Glmd-by, Moses, I've got Dan Sloan to See
you to the Bird-cage and then on to the City,
for I’ve got some businessto look after.

“You may pay him what you promised
me.”

“ Vell, dat ish all right.

“Good—py, and don’t you forget it I vas in
luck."

“Good-by,” called out Eugene Crichton as
he rode away, while the Dunite and the Jew
took a trail that just there branched of! from
the mountain road.

But, hardly had the two disappeared in the
timber bordering the mountain side, when the
dragoon officer turned his horse to the right-
about and slowly followed them. '

CHAPTER XL.
rLonA’s PLOT.

FOR a young and helpless woman, surrounded
by a people whom she knew to be her foes,
were she not believed to be of their creed, to
plot the escape of herself and a. captive maid-
en from a bondage worse than death, was a
most hazardous undertaking, and could only be
entertained by a heart and brain incapable of
the emotions of fear.

A confidlng, loving wife, Flora would have
ever been to the man she loved, had she not
found out how black was his heart, and how
evil was his life.

It at once dawned upon her that she could
hate even more passionately than she could
love, and the more she thought of her wrongs,
at the hands of Jack De Lee, the more she
hated him.

It seemed, as she thought over the past, that
she had really never loved him, but had been
fascinated by him.

Having saved her life, he had at once won
her heart; but she reasoned to herself:

“Were he the affinity of my life, I could
never now hate him with the intensity I do.”

Determined to leave him, she was also equal-
ly as determined to save poor Louise Leroy.

Having found him false, she did not believe
a. word he said to her, and only pretended to
believe him to play her part the better.

When he had told her that Louise Leroy had
returned to her friends, she had at once deter-
mined to see for herself as to the truth of his
words.

Innocent as a. child, as she had always been,
he did not, when she professod forgiveness and
happiness, doubt her, and she therefore held
the advantage in the game to be played be-
tween them.

When he bade her good-by in the morning,
saying he would not be back until late at
night, she had listened, and heard him enter
his library, and the scratching of his quill-pen
reached her ears as she stood eavesdropping.

Then she overheard his command to the ser-
vant, to send the letter to the mountains by a
Danite messenger, and instantly be had ridden
away, she very coolly possessed herself of the
letter, and breaking the seal, read its con-
tents.

The Dnnite seal on the table of her husband
again_closed the letter as before, and then she
sat down and wrote what the reader has seen
Louise Leroy read.

The next thing was to win over a servant
to her confidence, telling her that she wanted
to go to ride and dared not go alone as a wo-
man, but would put on a. masquerade her hus-
band had allowed her to wear, in accompany-
ing him through the mountains.

This was really the case, and attired in the
Danite attire, Flora mounted her horse, which
had been brought round to the door for her,
and dashed away.

Straight to the mountains she went, and
having been taught the Danito signals, passed
the guards without trouble, safely reached the
little cabin, with a result already known.

Returning in safety to her home, and armed
with the secret she held, Flo yet greeted her
husband upon his return, with a show of
marked attention.

“Jack, are you going to be away every day
in this way?” she asked rather petulantly, as
the two sat together after supper.

 

“Yes, Flo, my duties are such that I havo
to swing round the lines daily, for, since our
brush with the United States troops, General
Johnson may pounce down upon us at any
time, and in fact, I believe the want of sup-
plies alone prevents bis moving his army
against our noble Prophet."

“Well, why can’t I ride on horseback here,
as I did in the mountains?”

“No, no, Flo, you are too beautiful to trust
out alone, for there would be a hundred sporte-
men at once trying to insnare my beautiful
bird of the mountain.”

“I might wear a veil, if I am too beautiful
to be seen?" she raid petulantly.

“ No, that would make you look mysterious,
and mystery is not tolerated here."

“ Well, let me go in some disguise."

“ As an old woman?"

“ No, for an old woman would certainly nt-
tract attention, dashing about on horseback,
and I cannot ride slow.” '

“ Go as a boy, then,” and the major laughed.

“ I will go in the Danite suit you had made
for me, and which you told me, before I knew '
really what you were, you and your soldiers
were to excite the superstitious horror of the
Indians. /

“ Obi Jack, how you have deceived me in
the past." '

“Well, you have forgiven me, Flo, for you
said so.”

“I will if you will let we ride about man
Danite. . ‘

“ I can mount my horse in the stable, and
all who see me will think I am only one of Kt 3
your men.”

“All right, Flo, only do not venture out of
the city.”

“No, indeed, for the city is large enough
for me, and you know I am timid.” . .

“You showed a great deal of pluck the
other day, when you held the pistol covering
my heart, Flo.”

“Don’t speak of that, Jack, for it is past,
and let the past not be recalled, if you wish , 2 .
me to be happy.” '

“I do, Flo, so do just as you please, for you ‘ m ,'
are a good little girl after all.” ,- r"

“ And you won’t bring any other wifehere?" ~ _\

“No, indeed.” ' r *

“ Bless you, Jack,” she said, and she kissed ’
him, be little believing that it was a kiss from \~ ~ i=
lips then breathing a curse upon him.

Having gotten the permission from her hus-
band, to masquerade as a Danite, Flo at once
formed her plan of action. '

She would dash about the city the following
day, gather what information she could that “ ~
would be of use to her, and also cut down and - " .‘
make, as well as she could, from one of the 7
major’s uniforms, a suit to fit Louise Leroy.

I \

 

Then she would, the day following, get to- 
gather a haversnck of provisions, a belt of arms, ' , _.:'"_
and ride traight for the mountain cabin. g»

Once there, she would arrange to make oldr , 1‘",

Batty and his wife prisoners, and then, no. 
companied by Louise Leroy in her Dauite dil— ' , J“
guise, she would take the trail for Fort ‘
Bridger, which she knew, and then the sentinel
who dared to halt them, would be the suflerer, “
for no man’s life should stand between them
and their escape.

Such was Flo’s plot, and that she had the
nerve to carry it out she knew, and she be-
lieved that Louise Leroy would prove equally
as brave. ,

At any rate they would make the attempt,
be the end what it might. ‘

 

 

CHAPTER XLI. ‘ 13f
carcnmo A. nann. "

“VELL, mine frient, don’t it pa 3 long vays 1 v'
to to Pird-oage, vat you calls him?" asked ‘ « » j
Buckskin Moses of his Danlte escort, after the
two had ridden together several miles.

“ Yes, Dutchy, it is just down the mountain
yonder, and up at the head of the valley; but
I want you to stop here and look at the View,“
answered the Danite.

“ Vat I vants to larlk at t’e view for!

“ Dat ish not pizzeness, mine frient."

“ It is very pretty.”

"' Vell, put it don’t pring me nodings."

“ Oh, you has no heart, par-d. v

“New jlstlook at that stream ther, mean ,
derln’ over ther mounting side, nn’ fallin’ down I "j
ther precipice a couple 0’ hundred feet to jine ' '
t’other stream below in ther valley.

 

 

 

 

 

.. .._ 7 I ,......l _-

“ Don’t you call that beautiful?”

“I calls it vater ant lant, ant trees, ant
rocks, ant it don’t pring me pizziness,” was the
practical reply.

“Well, as you talk business so much, I’ll do
ther same, so I’ll just trouble you to hand over
ther little cash that yer hev about yer
clothes.”

“Dat leetle vat?”

“ Cash.”

“ Goolti”

" Yes, gold.”

“Vat I gives you goolt for!”

“ To save your life.”

“ Mine Got! vat I ish done dat you talks
like dat avayl" and the Jew began to trem-
ble. '
“ Well, whatever you have done, I intend to
take chances on your turning up missing, and
rob you.”

" You vill vat!"

“ Rob you.”

’ “ Holy Isaac! don’t you vas do such athings,
mine frient.” cried the Jew in dire alarm.

“Come, no nonsense, and out with your
gold, or I will cut your throat from ear to
ear.”

“Fader Abraham!
monish.” ‘

“You lie.”

“All my monish I ish spent for dose t’ings
vat I hash to sell.”

“You have some money, I knows.”

“I hash a leetle monish, put I don’t vant to
spend it.”

“Nor shall you, for I will spend it myself.”

“Your frient vill tell dat you ish rob me,

put I has got no

rant den t’e Brophet, Brigham Yoongs, vill

make you die. ”
“No, I’ll look arter that, Jew, for, after I
rob you, I’ll lay the act on Nick Foster, and as

he has been up to some little acts of the kind,
they’ll believe my story.”

“ Put I vill tell dat ish vas you.”
“ Dead men tells no tales, they says, Jew.”
. “ Put I ish not dent?”

' “But you will be.”

“ Holy Moses!”

“ Come, out with your gold, quick 1”

“ Vill you not kilt me, if I givos you t’e

"

“lges.”

‘l‘Dat ish very goot, mine frient.

“I loves my goolt, but I loves my life pet-
ter ash t’e goolt.”

“I don’t doubt it.

' “Now give me the gold.”

“ It ish in dis pag.”

As Buckskin Moses spoke he drew a buck-
skin bag from some pocket about his attire,
mid held it forth toward the Danite robber.

But just as the Danite’s hand was about to
grasp it, the bag dropped to the ground with a.
clinking sound, and the hand which had held
it now grasped a small derringer pistol, cooked
and presented straight at the breast of the rob-
ber, while Buckskin Moses said:

“ Mine frient, I vants you to bolt up your
heats up pooty quick 1”

' The Danite was astounded, and having often
heard the same demand before, though not ex-
pressed in the same words, he instinctively,
threw up his hands, while he cried out:

“Durn it, Jew, what does yer mean?”

“ Fineness,” was the calm response.

The Danite’s eyes now fell upon the little
derringer, and evidently not accustomed to
seeing such a weapon, and looking upon it as a
toy-pistol, while be yet had little confidence in
the nerve of the Jew, he suddenly dropped his
hands and leaned forward in his saddle to seize
his enemy.

But it was the last act of his life: for the
Jew’s finger touched the trigger, and the large
bullet went plowing its way through the body
of the robber Danite. ,

With a groan he fell from his horse, clutch.
ing in his death—agony the very bag of gold
which had caused him to lose his life.

Buckskin Moses very coolly dismounted,

picked up the bag and replaced it in its former

receptacle, and then was bending over the
prostrate form of the Danite when he heard the
clatter of hoofs.

“ At once he was on his guard, but a glance

 down the trail showed him that it was Lieu-
tenant Crichton approaching.

“I feared you were in trouble, Moses,” cried

the disguised dragoon, as he dashed up to the,
a revolver in hand.

“No, dot hhentilmans vas in troubles, mine

"frient."

 

The 'Pilgnm Sharp.

“Well, you are a terror on Danite, Buck-
skin, that is certain.”

“He vant to rob me, ant dere he ish. He
likes t’e peautiful scenery, mit t’e rivers run-
ning down t’e valleys, so I sent him dat avay
quick.”

Seizing the body in his arms with a strength
that surprised Eugene Crichton, the Jew

walked to the edge of the fall and hurled it'

over.

“He vill go down pooty quick.

“ Now ve hash a horse, so vat ve do mit
him?”

“I will lead him on to the cabin, for he may
be needed.

“ But where is the cabin?”

“ Down t’e valleys; I show you pooty quick,"
and again mounting, Buckskin Moses rode on,
Eugene Crichton riding ahead and leading the
horse of the dead Duuite.

A ride of half a mile down the mountain-
side and the little valley came in view, with
the cosey little cabin nestling away in the
shadow.

“We have found the Bird-cage, Moses I”
cried the dragoon, in a tone of exultation.

“Dat ish so, ant ve now vants to lint t’e
pird,” was the reply of the Jew, as the two
rode toward the cabin.

CHAPTER XLII.
moans UNDER FALSE FACES.

AGAIN was Louise Leroy surprised in an
afternoon siesta, by the arrival of a mounted
Danite.

A glance, as she arose from the hammock,
was sufficient to show her that it was the one
who had before brought her the letter from
Major D: Lee, in fact, she knew that it was
none other than Flora in disguise.

Her heart gave a great bound of delight and
hope, for she felt that the young Mormon wife
had come to tell her of the time when they
could escape.

She glanced about forBatty, and not seeing
him, said:

“You are here again, and—”

A warning gesture from the pretended
Danite showed that either Batty or his wife
were in hearing, and Louise continued:

“And I suppose you again bring me a letter-
from Major De Lee?”

“Yes, lady, I bring you a letter,” was the
answer, and dismounting, Flora stepped for-
ward and handed a letter to the maiden, who
quietly walked to the rustic seat, and sat down
before she broke the seal.

Atga respectful distance Flo followed her,
and stood near, as though awaiting an answer.

Opening the letter, Louise read:

“My Dean Looms:—

“ I have planned to leave with you to-night.

“As soon as I ride away ask old Batty for some
wine. for there is plenty of it in the cabin.

“Place the {anders inclosed in two glasses, and
ask Betty and ass to join you.

“The powder will do them no other harm than
putting them to slee for a few hours.

“In a short while will return, and then as soon
as you can get ready, we will start, for I have for

on a. comp ete Danite suit, and,“ you doubtless

ow there are horses in the stable.

“ W'ith hope of our success,

' “ Yours, '

It FLOIH

“Say to Major De Lee, your chief, I will do
as he says,” replied Louise, in a tone loud
enough to be heard by Batty, who was now
seated on the front-door step.

“No written answer, ladyi” asked the pre-
tended Danite.

“None.”

Flo then bowed, turned, and mounting her .

horse, rode away.

For a few minutes Louise sat there in silence,
and then she called out: i

“ Batty, is there any wine in the cabin?”

“Yes, lady.”

“Will you get some for me?"

“ What kind will you drink, lady, for we
have Port, Sherry, and Madeira?"

“Give me Port, please.”

Batty soon came out with a bottle of Port, -

and a corkscrew, while Bess brought a salver
with a glass upon it. . ‘

Louise took a glass of wine, which was
poured out for her, and then Said:

“ Get glaSSes, Bess, for yourself and Batty,
for I care for no more.” ‘ ‘

Batty looked as though he would enjoy a

\

x
-i *. .), ., . I

 

glass of wine immensely; but his wife spoke
up somewhat sharply:
“No, miss, I seldom takes anything strong,

and it’s not good for Batty, for it goes to his ,

head and makes a fool of him.”

“ But, old woman, one leetle glass hnin’t
going to hurt me,” pleaded old Batty.

“ It is the one leetle glass that does, for once
you take that you wants more.”

“ Surely, Bess, I favor temperance, but this
wine is delicious, and will really do you both
good,” said Louise, just then a strong advo—
cate of intemperance.

“Hear that, old woman; it will put fat on
our old bones, and raise the cookies of our
heart.

“Iguess jist a leetle glass hain’t going to
down me."

“ I say no, old man, and if you takes the
wine, I‘ll jist pull the cord and signal for
’em to come down from the camp,” said Bess.
firmly.

That settled it, and Batty said no more,
While Louise was thwarted in her little plot,
so she could only await the coming of Flora,
and then see what could be done.

It was not long before the young wife came
back at a center.

Her eyes falling upon old Batty and his
wife, she knew that something had gone
wrong and she at once said:

“I saw the major, lady, and he sent me
back to say that he would soon be with you.

“And, Batty, he told me to tell you and
your wife to have the best dinner ready that.
it was in your power to get, for he is as hungry
as a bear.”

“ All right, my man.

“ Do you hear the chief’s orders, old
woman?” replied Batty.

“ I does, and I’ll do as he says; come, hustle.
about old man, and help me all you can, for if
I’d have let you take that wine, a pretty fool
you’d have been to meet the major.”

Batty thought so, too, for he knew he had
a failing, if once he took a drink of liquor or
wine, and he mentally thanked the old woman.
for saving him from himself.

“ Come, my man, I guess you can help a
leetle too, for there is much to be done,” he
said to Flora.”

“I will have work to do when the chief
comes,” coldly replied Flora. and then, as her
eyes fell upon some one approaching, she con»
tinued:

“ What is it that the Danite has captured i”

Her remark referred to Buckskin Moses and
the supposed Danite, who just then came along
the mountain-trail toward the house.

In spite of their haste, old Batty and his.
wife stopped to see who were the new-comers,
and Bess called out: '

“It’ a peddler, and now we can get some
things to make us look smart.”

“Is Miss Leroy here?” asked the young
dragoon, halting near the cabin with Buckskin
Moses, and fixing his eyes upon the maiden,

" I am Miss Leroy, sir; what isit you wish? ’
haughtin responded Louise.

“Major De Lee sent me hither with this
Jew peddler, as he said that he had wares
which you might wish to purchase.”

“ Yesh, mish, I hash blenty of rippons, laces,
kerchiefs, nick-necks, mit fine dings dat’s suited
to do ladies.

“I shows you vat I hash mit my packs,
mish, ant all ish so sheap ash never was for
dish time 0' season, ant so far avay from
home.”

But Louise met the request rather coldly,
while old Bess was really wild with fear that,
she might not make the peddler unfold his
treasures.

“You better get the supper for the major,
Bess, you and Batty, for he is in no pleasant
mood to-day," said Flora, anxious to get the,
old couple away, so that the Danite and Jew
would depart, for she feared that the major
might be somewhere in the neighborhood, and
had really sent the peddler there.

Batty and Bess, who stood in holy horror of .

the Danite chief, at once took the hint, and
hustled away about their work, while Louise,
seemingly understanding Flora’s motive, asked:

“ Where did you leave Major De Leo, sir?"

“Some half-dozen miles from here, and, I
think, bound upon the northern trail, lady,”
was the answer of Eugene Crichton, and he
eyed Flora with a searching glance, while he
continued: ‘ '

“As the lady doubtles wishes to see the
Jew’s goods. my led, you come with me to\

 

 

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The PilgrimvSharp.

25

 

 

look after the horses, for I shall await here for
some time."
Flora knew not what to say, and could but

_obey, and the two walked away together,

while the Jew at once said to Louise, who was
becoming very unensy;
“Vel, leddy, I ish glat in my soul to meets

' you," said Moses.

A

“ I am sorry I cannot reciprocate the feeling,
sir,” was the haughty reply.

“Dot ish pad, mish: put don’t you get ox—
cited ven I tells you dat t’e Danite yonder ish
not a Danite, put a frient mit you wit a false
face on.”

“What do you mean?" quickly and excitedly
asked Louise.

“Don’t got excited, mish, for t’e olt beoples
hev eyes mit t'ere heats.

“Keep so cool ash you vas ice-cream."

“I am cool, I am not excited, so tell me
what you mean.”

“ Does you pe acquainted mit a chentilmens
vat vas a tragoon sold’er?”

“Yes, oh, yes!"

“ Bish name was vat?”

“Lieutenant Eugene Crichton—or, perhaps
you mean my uncle, Colonel Lewellyni”

“ No; I don’t means your uncles, put .1
means t’e yoong mans.”

“ Lieutenant Crichton?"

“Yesh, mish.”

“Oh, tell me why you speak of him.”

“ Don’t I done told you dat t’e Danite vas a
friend mit a false face?”

“Quick! speak! is the man who came here
with you, and dressed in Danite uniform,
Lieutenant Eugene Crichtoni" and Louise
spoke in a low, earnest tone, her face flushing
and paling the while.

“ Dst vas so.”

“Then quick, air, and go after him, for he
has led the one he found with me away, he-
lieving her to be a Danite, and he may harm
her.

“Quick, for it is a. woman."

“Holy Isaacsl I go me right avay quick,”
and Buckskin Moses hastened down toward the
log-stable, whither the two had gone, each one
believing the other to be a brma flde Danite.

The Jew arrived just in time, for, though
conversing with Flora in an ordinary manner,
Eugene Crichton was planning the best way to
get rid of one whom he considered a young
Danite.

“ Mine frients, I vas sent py t’e laties, for she
says dot t’e yoong mans vas a. yoong vomans."

“What doyou mean, Moses?” quickly asked
Eugene Crichton. ' -

“ I vas mean dot I tells her dot you vas t’e
dragoon officer in disguise, ant then she tells
me to roon pooty quick ant tells you dot t’e
yoong mans vas a vomans out her frients.”

“Hal you, then, are no Danite," cried the'
oflcer, turning upon Flora and dropping his
hand upon her shoulder.

“ If I understand the Jew aright, sir, you are
also wearing falsecolors,” was the quick reply.

“Iain; and: I have. come here to rescue Miss
Leroy from her captivity, and I warn you—"

“No need to warn me, six", for I came here
for that same purpose.”

“ Holy Isaacsl I vas all proke up mi: sup.
prise,” said Buckskin Moses. _ .

“Who are you, may I askl” was the queg-
tion from the dragoon. ,

“Ah, sir, I am a Danite's wife, and one who
was cruelly deceived into marrying a men I be.
lieved to have honor, and whom I have only
just found was a Mormon.” .

“Indeed! you have my deepest sympathy,
and if you will fly from here with Miss Leroy,
I shall be only too happy to offer my protection,
for I am Lieutenant Eugene Crichton of the
Light Dragoons.

“I thank you, sir, and gladly will I go, for-I
had come from my home in Salt Lake City,
disguised as I am, and brought with me a Dan-
lte dress for Miss Leroy, so that we might fly
together to-night."

“God bless you for that, madam; but now
let us lose no time, for we have to get rid of
the old man and his wife in some way, or are
they friendly?”

“ No, indeed, sir; but you can capture them
and leave them bound in the cabin.” ,

“ That we will do, 30, Moses, youhad better
go back and inform Miss Leroy of our plan,
and I will enter the cabin, under some excuse,
and make the old couple prisoners.

“ Then we can start on our flight, as soon as

/.Miss Leroy has robed herself as a Danite, for,

in that disguise alone can she escape.”

 

“One moment, mish. I
“Does you know Major De Leo, t’e Danite .
chief i" asked Buckskin Moses. l

“I know him alas too well, sir, for he is the 1
one who brought me here under such a cruel ,
deception. ‘

“ I am his wife, sir," almost fiercely answer-
ed Flora. I

“Did you know hish oder vifes, anoder ones
whose heart he proke?”

“I know that he was married once before,
or at least he admits that much.” .

“Ant his vifes?" eagerly asked the Jew.

“ ls dead.”

“ Ahl you ish know dat, mish?”

“I do, for a servant in his honse was with
her when she died, and she told me that the
poor young woman had been deceived by Jack
De Lee, as I had been, and wilted away like a
flower until death gave her rest.

“I felt so sorry for the poor young wife, that
I rode out to visit her grave but yesterday, for
I knew not but that my fate might be like
hers. "

“ Dit you know her names, mishi” again
asked Buckskin Moses, and his voice trembled.

“Yes, she was a. Jewess, from Baltimore, I
believe, and her maiden name you will find on
this locket, which has also her miniature, and
which I took from the house of De Lee to re-
turn it to her friends, for I felt that it was de-
secration to leave it there.”

She handed him a gold locket as she spoke,
having taken it from her pocket, and grasping
it the Jew gazed upon the face an instant, and
the words came from his lips, as though wrung
by anguish:

“Salome Linda—my poor, poor sister.

“ May th ' curse of Abraham rest upon your
murderer, living and dead .’ ”

The strange dialect had gone from him
wholly, and taming to Eugene Crichton, after
an effort of self-control, he said hoarsely:

‘ Lieutenant Crichton, that man, Jack De
Lee, stole from us the pride of our name and
household.

“Months ago, after having been mining in
the western country for several years, I heard
that my sister, Salome, had wedded a Dnnite,
and that he had cruelly deceived her as to who
he was. '

“ I swore revenge against him and also to
take her from him, and hence I came here as
you now see me.

“ Salome is dead, and may her ashes rest in
peace until some day when I can have her body
taken home.

' “ But Jack De Lee yet lives, and I shall not
rest content until he is dead.

“ Now come, and 'I will aid you in your
flight and then take the trail of the Danite
chief and follow it to the end of his life or
mine." ' .

The man spoke with the utmost calmness,
and in looking upon him both the dragoon and
Flora forgot his eccentric appearance.

“ From my heart I feel for you, my friend,
and all the aid I'can give you in hunting down
De Lee you shall have.”

“I know it, Crichton, I know it; but now
come, let us rescue these poor ladies. and to do
so I am once more Buckskin Moses,” and the
Jew returned to where he had left Louise and
quickly told her how matters stood, while
Eugene Crichton and Flora entered the cabin,
and presenting their revolwrs suddenly at the
heads of the old couple readily made them
prisoners.

Ten minutes later four persons wearing the
Danito uniform rode away from the little
cabin, in which they left Batty and his wife so
securely bound that it would take them a long
time to untie the knots.

The Jew’s pack, rawboned steed and mule
were given to the old couple to soothe their
wounded feelings, while, mounted upon the
horse of the Danite he had killed upon the
mountain, and wearing a uniform he had in his
pack, Luke Lindo rode by the side of Flora, as
Eugene Crichton and Louise led the way on
their flight from the Mormon lines.

 

CHAPTER XLIII.
an one run was KEPT.

Foa sevorm miles the quartette of supposed
Danites, held on their way, the two men ready
to fight their way through any danger.

Eugene Crichton had not taken a rapid gait,

 

for he would not press the horses, not knowing
what they might be called upon to do.

Arriving at the inner line of guards they
were promptly halted by a Danite sentinel,
and as promptly the young dragoon gave the
requisite signals.

The second line was passed in the same way,
and than they knew that they had but one
more gantlet to run.

Where the outer line of guards were, neither
Eugene Crichton or Luke Lindo knew; but
they pressod on more rapidly, to suddenly
come upon a sentinel in the middle of the
trail.

His challenge was answered as before, and
they were about to pass on, when a party of
half a dozen horsemen dashed up, and a stern
voice demanded: ,

“What party is that going out of the lines
without my orders t”

“It is Jack De Lee,” whispered Flora, and
at her words Luke Lindo said quickly:

“Ride on, Crichton, with the ladies, and I
will join you.”

Instantly Flora stretched forth her hand, to
grasp the rein of her companion, for she di-
vined his object.

But she was too late, for he spurred forward,
and halting in front of the horseman who had
spoken, sternly asked:

“ Are you Major Jack De Lee, the Danito
chief i” ,

“ I am, sir.

“ Who are you that asks the question?" was
the haughty reply.

“I am the brother of Salome Lindo, and I am
here to avenge her.

“ Die I dog of a Danite I"

There was a flash and a sharp report, and
the Danite chief uttered a cry of anguish and
despair, and fell from his saddle, while in the
confusion that followed, the daring fiebrew
spurred to the side of Flora, and h'oarsely cried:

“ 0n, Crichton, for our lives, onl”

No second bidding was needed, and while
Flora went in advance with Louise, theyoung
dragoon dropped back alongside of LukeLindo,
and with their weapons ready awaited the pur-‘
suit they knew must follow.  , .

For full 3 minute, a. precious minute of time
to the fugitives, the Danites were unnerved;
but then they darted of! in pursuit, full a score
in number. . .

‘ Well mounted, the fugitives held their own,
and‘a running fight along the atarlit trail be-
gan. ,  7
Now and then a bullet would whistle.un-
pleasantly near their heads, and seeing this, to
protect their fair companions, Crichton and
Lindo slackened their pace, thgtr 

tidaom, , ' i," .v 3  _, ,,-,-
' But both‘Flora aid Louise saw thél'r motfv‘e,‘
and also drew rein, for they would not leave
them. . ' . , ' -

And ,thus the: flight and pursuit went on,
until the horse ridden by ene Crichton was
wounded, and could go no urther. ’ '

Spring up behind me!” cried Linda, and
Eugene Crichton obeyed. -

But the noble animal could not make great
speed under a double load, and LukeLindo
said: . ‘

“As my foolhardy not brought you in den-
ger, Crichton, ride on with the ladies, and I
will make a stand. ”

Instantly he sprung from the saddle and
stood at bay. ‘

But Eugene Crichton was no man to desert
a comrade, nor would Flora and Louise hear
to it, and he too turned back, just as the Dan-
ltes were charging on. a '

“ I’ll stand by you, Linda, come what may,"
shouted the dragoon. ' ‘

“Lieutenant Crichton’s voice among a hun-
dred.

"Come, Jim Bridger, let ther devils have
it!”

The voice came from the side of the road,
and out of the shadow sprung two forms,
rifles in hand.

“ Daring Dave and Jim Bridger, by the
Gods of Warl” shouted Eugene Crichton.

“ Ay, we is here, every time!" cried the
scout, and together the four men ranged acrosl
the trail, and their rifles flashed together.

It was a deadly volley, for four Danites bit
the dust, and then their revolvers opened lively
and the charge was checked, the battle was won,
for the enemy believed that they were rushing
upon a body of cavalry, as in trumpet tones
Eugene Crichton shouted: ‘

“ Dragoons, charge, and ride them down!”

Poll-mall in mad flight the Danites retreated,
while the party of fugitives went on their way,

26

The Pilgrim Sharp.

 

l
Daring Dave explaining that they were ofl’ no 9

a scout and had an idea that something was
wrong when they saw Danites chasing Danites.

“ And the prisoner?” asked Luke Lindo,
quickly.

“‘Ohl” he tried to get away one night, and
would have done so had not Jim Bridger here
fetched him down with a shot,” answered
Daring Dave.

“ But where is the Jew, my pard of the
Overland, whom I christened Buckskin Moses?”
he continued.

“I am t’e shentilmans, mine frient Tave,”
put I don’t vas Puckskin Moses some more
now,” answared Luke Lindo to the amazement
of Dave and Jim Bridger, the latter remark-
Ing: ‘

“Waal, pard, you can out-Jew a reg’lar
Jew, or I are a liar.”

“I am a Jew myself, Jim; but come, let us
go to the cavern, get the horses and gold, and
strike for the camp of General Johnson, for
my idea is that [the Danites will press on in
force.”

This advice was taken, and with their horses
weighed dbwn with the gold, which belonged
to Flora, they rode into Camp Douglass just at
dawn, when Colonel Lewellyn was just pre-
paring to start out with his regiment to look
up his lieutenant, and also to demand, under
flag of truce, the restoration of his niece.

What joy reigned in the camp at the return
of those believed to be captives or dead, the
reader can readily imagine, as he can also that
Louise Leroy loved Eugene Crichton even
more after the perils he had gone through for
her sake, and shortly after became his wife,
the marriage taking place at Fort Bridger, and
the post chaplain performing the ceremony,
while Luke Lindo and Flora Dean, for she had
resumed her maiden name, stood up with the
happy couple.

But the reader does not know, that after one
year the lovely Flora, the widow of Jack De
Leo the Denim chief, was won and wedded by
the Lindo, no longer ugly Buckskin Moses,
but, with his disguise taken off, a handsome,
dashing young man of whom Jim Bridger the
scout laid to Daring Dave:

“Hemossquar’a man asevorl seen, hes
got ther nerve tor fight a regiment, an’ are as
good a. trailer as a Injun, while he has got
money tor throw to ther birds, an’ of that
putty gal-widder hain’t happy with him, than
she lh’u’d marry Brigham Young.”

Tn END.

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122 LOVEL Tan WIDOWER. By .M. Thac eray.

H

 

1233 AN IsLAND PEARL By B. L. Farjeon.
12-! Comm PRILus.

I

 

By Edward

125 LEILA; or TEE SIEGE or GRENADA.
Bulwer, (Lord Lytton.)
126 WHEN THE SHIP COMES HOME. By Walter

Besant and James Rice.
127 ONE or THE FAMILY. Ely James Payn.
128 THE BIRTERIGET. By rs. Gore.

1%) MOTEERLess; or, The Farmer‘s Sweetheart. By

Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

130 HoMELEes; or, The Two Orphan Girls in New
York. By Albert W. Aiken.

131 SIsTER AGAINST SISTER; or The Rivalry of
Hearts. By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowcll.

132 SOLD FOR GOLD; or, Almost Lost. By Mrs. M.
V. Victor. ’

133 LORD Ro'rn’s SIN: or BetrothI-d at the Cradle.
By Mrs. Georgiana Dickens.

134 DID HE LOVE HER? By Burflcy T. Campbell.

135 SINNED AGAINsT; or, Almost in His Power. By

Lillian Loveioy.

136 WAS Sm: HIs Wm? By Mar Reed Crowell.

137 THE VILLAGE 0N TEE CLIFF. V Miss Thackeray.

138 POOR VALERIA. By Margaret L‘lount.

139 MARGARET GRAHAM. By G. P. R. James.

140 WITHOUT MERCY. By Bartley T. Campbell.

141 HONOR BOUND. By Lillian Lovejoy.

142 FLEEING FROM LOVE. Mrs. Harriet Irving.

14“) ADDUCTED. By Rett Winwood.

144 A STRANGE MARRIAGE. By Lillian Lovejoy.

145 Two GmLs’ LIVEs. By Mrs. Mary Real Crowell.

146 A DESPERATE VENTURE. By Arabella Southworth

147 THE WAR or HEARTS. By Corinne Cnshman.

148 WHICH WAS TEE WOMAN? By Sara Claxton.

149 AN AMBlTIOUS GIRL. By Frances H.-Davenport.

150 Love LORD or ALL. By Alice May Fleming.

151 A WILD GIRL. By ('orInne Cushman.

152 A MAN‘s SACRIFICE. By Harriet Irving.

153 DID SEE SIN? By Mrs. Mary Reed (.‘rowell.

154 HE LOVES ME NOT. B Lillian Lovejoy.

155 WINNING WAYS. By urgaret Blount.

156 WHAT SHE CosT Hm. By Arabella Southwortll.

157 A GIRL’s HEART. By Rett Winwood.

158 A BITTER MIsTAEE. By Agnes Mary Shelton.

159 LADY HELEN's Vow. B the late Mrs. E. F. Eliot.

160 BUYING A HEART. an Lovej 

161 PEARL or Famine. y A. P. Morris, r.

162 A FATKFUL GAEE. By Sara Claxton.

163 THE CREOLE CousINs. By Philip S. Wame.

164 A S'AIEING ORDEAL. Bv Geo ‘nna Dickens.

165 A SIRANGE GIRL. By Albert . Aiken.

166 A MAN's SIN. By Rett Winwood.

167 THE BAND OE FATE. B Arabella Seuthworth.

168 Two FAIR WouEN. By m. Mason Turner.

169 TEMPTED THROUGH LOVE. B Lillian Lov‘eljoty‘.e

170 BLIND BAREAnA‘s SECRET. Marv G. H p .

171 A WouAN‘s WImnERY. B are. axton.

172 BLACK Ens AND BLUE. y Corinne Cushman.

173 THE Cos-r or A Four. B Georgiana Dickens.

174 TEE PRETTY PDEITAN. By Parson’s Daughter.

175 Is LOVE A MOCKERY? Arabella Southworth.

176 ADEIA. TEE ADOPTED. Jennie Davis Burton.

177 FOR m WouAN H: m. By Agnes Mary

Shelton.

178 TE]: Locum HEART. By Corinne Cushman.

179 PAnTED ET TREACHERY. By Harriet .

130 WAS SEE A WIDE? By Bet Winwood.

181 UNDER A Omen. By Sara Claxton. 5

182 AN AnarcAN QUEEN. B Grace Mortimer. ...

183 A POINT or HONOR By lilau Lovejo .

184 D To TEE ALTAR. By Corinne 

185 PDT 10 A TnsT. By Georgiana Dickens.

186 TEE TERRIBLE TRUTH. By Jennie Davis Burton.

187 Ovrwrrrnn In Knew. By Arabella South-

worth.
188 noun-TE. By Col. Prentiss Ingrnhnm.
189 REE GDARDIAN’s or. By Sara Clan-ton.
190 Pam AND Pnoun. By Corinne Cushman.
101 A Wom's MAXWJ By Lillian Lovejoy.
198 TE: BIT-In Fm. By Jennie Davis Burton.

A new lame every male.

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l

3 18_.B.i.fle and

1

   

5 Bone

LIBRY 

 

 

l Adventures of Bullhlo Bill. Prom Boyhood to Man
hood. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
2 The Ocean Hunters; or, The Chase of the Leviathan. By
Captain Mayne Reid. An extra large number.
3 Adventures of Wil Bill, the Pistol Prince. Remarkable
career of J. B. Hikok. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. -
4 The Prairie Ranch; or, The Young Cattle Herders. By Joe.
' E. Badger, Jr.
5 Texas Jack. the Manta. King. Thrilling Adventures in
the Life of J. B. Omohundro, “ exas Jack. " By Col. P. Ingraham.
8 Cruise of the Plynway; or, Yankee Boys in Ceylon. By C.
Dunning Clark. .
Joe: The History of a Young " Border Ruflian.” Brief
Scenes trom the Life of Joseph E. Badger, Jr. By A. H. Post.
’8 The Plynwny Afloat; or, Yankee Boys ’Round the World.
By C. Dunning Clark.
9 Bruin Adams, Old Grizzly Adams’ Boy Pard. By
Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
[0 The Snow Trail; or, The Boy Hunters of Fur-Land. A Narra-
tive of Sport and Life around Lake Winnipeg. By T. C. Harbaugh.
ll Old Grizzly Adams, the Bear Tamer; or, The Monarch of
the Mountain. By Dr. Frank Powell.
12 Woods and Waters: or, The Exploits of the Littleton Gun
Club. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
13 A Rolling Stone: Incidents in the Career on Sea and Land as
Boy and Man, of Col. Prentm Ingraham. By Prof.Wm. R. Eyster.
14 Adrift on the Prairie. and Amateur Hunters on the
Bufi'alo Range. By 011 Coomes.
15 Kit Carson. of Guides; or, Mountain Paths and
Prairie Trails. By Al rt W. Aiken.
18 Red River Rovers; or, Life and Adventures in the Northwest.-
By C. Dunning Clark.
17 PM and. Plain; or, Wild Adventures of “BuckskinSam,”
(Major Sam S. Hall.) By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
fl Revolver; or, The Littleton Gun Club on the
Bufi'alo Range. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
19 Wide-Awake George, the Bo Pioneer. By Ed. Willett.
20 The Dashing Dragoon; or, '1‘ e Story of General George A.
Custer, from West Point to the Big Horn. By Capt. R. Whitts r.
21 Deadwoodmskus no :01; Whywild Noam 
Englandill‘anndad, became e Western Prince of? a V y
Edward L. Wheeler. '
22 The Boy Exiles of Siberia. By T. C. Harbaugh.
23 Paul De Lucy, the French
York Boys in the J angles. By C. Dunning Clark.
24 The iword Prince : The Romantic Life of Colonel Monstery,
(Amencan Champion-storms.) By Captain Fred. Whittaker.
95 Round the Camp Fire 3 or, Snow-Bound at “Freeze-out Camp.”
A Tale of Roving Joe and his Hunter Pards. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.
86 Snow-Shoe Tons; or, New York Boys in the Wilderness. A
Narrative of Sport and Peril in Maine. By T. C. Harbaugh.

87 Yellow Hair, the Boy Chiefofv'the‘ Pawnees. The .Ad-‘

venturous Career of Eddie Burgess of Nebraska. By Col. Ingraham.
88 The Chase of the Grout White Stag and Camp and

Canoe. By C. Dunning Clark. .-
89 The Fortune-Hunter; or, Roving Joe as Miner, Cow-Boy,

Trap r and Hunter. By A. H. Post. I
30 W -Per son’s Cruise. A Tale of the Antarctic Sea. By
C. Dunning lark. ‘ .

31 The Boy Crusader; or, How a Page and a Fool Saved 9. King.
By Captain Frederick Whittaker. ‘

32 White Beaver, the Indian Medicine Chief: or, The Ro-
mantic and Adventurous Life of Dr. D. Frank Powell, known on the
Border as “ Fancy Frank," “ Iron Face," etc. By Col. P. Ingraham.

33 Captain Ralph. the Young Explorer: or, The Centipede
Among the Floss. By C. Dunning Clark.

34 The Young Bear Hunters. A Story of the Hops and Mishsps.

of a Party of Boys in the Wilde of Michigan. By M'o'rris Redwing.

35 The Lost Boy Whalers ; or, In the Shadow of the North Pole.
By T. C. Harbaugh.

38 Smart Sim, the Land with a. Level Head. By Ed. Willett.

37 Old Tar Knuckle and His Boy Chums: or, The Monsters
otthe Esquimaux Border. By Roger Starbuck.

88 The'tSettler’s Son: or, Adventures in Wilderness and Clear-
ing. By Edward S. Ellis.

39 Night-Hawk George, and His Daring Deeds and Adventures
in the Wilds of the South and West. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

" 40 The Ice Elephant; or, The Castaways of the Lone Coast. By

Captain Frederick Whittaker. .
41 The Pampas Hunters; or, New York Boys in Buenos Ayres.
By T. C. Harbaugh. , , :
42 The Yo Land-Dubber. By C. Dunning Clark.
‘3 Bronco B , the Saddle Prince. By Col P. Ingraharn.

. u t _‘
I .r  'W.Cr¢lwford,‘the’P6e

Beast Charmer; or, New.

44 The Snow Hunters; or, Winter in the Woods. By Barry
De Forrest.

45 Jack, Harry and Tom, the Three Champion Brothers: or,
Adventures of Three BravevBoys with the Tattooad Pirate. By
Captain Frederick Whittaker.

48 The Condor Killers; or, Wild Adventures at the Equator.
By T. C. Harbaugh.

47 The Boy Coral Fishers; Or, The SeaCavern Scourge. By
Roger Starbuck.

48 Dick, the Stowaway; or, A'Yankee Boy’s Strange Cruise
By Charles Morris. ' '

49 Tip Tressell, the Floater: or, Fortunes and Misfortunes on
the Mississippi. By Edward Willett.

50 The Adventurous Life of Nebraska. CharliO. (Chas. E.
Burgess.) By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

51 The Colorado Boys; or, Life on an Indigo Plantation. By
Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

52 Honest Harry: or, The Country Boy Adrift in the City. By
Charles Morris.

53 The Boy Detectives; or, The Young Californians in Shanghai.
By T. C. Harbaugh.

54 California, Joe, the Mysterious Plainsman. By Col.  _ .

55 Harry Somers, the Sailor-Boy Magician. By S. W. Pearce.

56 Nobody’s Boys; or, Life Among the Gipsies. 1' By Jul. Hot!
man.

57 The Menagerie Hunter; or, Fanny Hobart, the Animal
Queen. By Major H. Grenville, “Sea Gull.”

58 Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. By Charles Morris.

59 Lud Lionheels, the Young Tiger Fighter. By Roger Starbuck.

60 The Young Trail Hunters; or, New York Boys in Grizzly
Land. By T. C. Harbaugh.

61 The Young Mustangers. By C. Dunning Clark.

62 The Tiger Hunters; or, The Colorado Boys in Tiger-Land

“  Badger, Jr. < I 3 rd '
.. a  0 01‘

’8’ u m mtm) By Ch].  Ingrahggm

84 The Young Moose-Hunters; or, Trail and Camp-fire in the
New Brunswick Woods. By Wm. H. Manning.

85 Black Horse Bill. the Bandit Wrecker; or, Two Brave Boys
to the Rescue. By Roger Starbuck.

66 Little Dan Rocks; or, The Mountain Kid’s man... By

Morris Redwing.

87 ’Lo re Lije: or, How 5 Rough Boy.,Won His Way. By
" C. nning Clark. '  ~ '

68 I‘lntbont Fred;
Edward Willett. _

69 The Deer-Hunters: or, Life in the Ottawa Country. By

‘ John J. Marshall.

70 Kentucky Ben, the Long Rifle oi‘ the Plains; or, The Boy
Trappers of Oregon. By Roger Starbuck.

71 The Boy Pilot; or, The Island Wreckers. By Col. Ingraham.

72 Young Dick Talbot. By Albert W. Aiken.

78 Pat Mullonei’s Adventures; or, Silver Tonguehthe Decotah
Queen. By C. . Edwards.

74 The Desert Rover; or, Stowaway Dick Among theArabs.
By Charles Morris.

75 The Border Guam-her: or, The Hunted Maiden. By James
L. Bowen.

76 The Kit Carson Club: or, Young Hawkeyes in the North
west. By T. C. Harbaugh.

7’7 Left-Handed Pete, the Double-Knife. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.

78 The Boy Prospector; or, The Scout of the Gold Ravine. By
Roger Starbuck.

79 ginonee. the Wood Witch; or, The Squatter’s Secret. “By Ed!!!

merson. ,

80 The Boy Cruisers: or. Joe and Jap’s Big Find. Eyflwd

Willett.

“or, The Voyage of the “Experiment.” By

A New Issue Every Week; " I \

Bnum‘s BOY’S LIBRARY is for sale by all Newsdeslers, five cent!
per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. ~

BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,

 

08 William Street. a“; You;

 

36541.11? ’-2 I.

‘60 Ce‘tyzil’s Deceit;

 

American Copyright Novels and the Cream of Foreign Novelists, Unabridged, FOR FIV E CENTS!

The Ch

1 The Masked dee’ or, Will She Ma
Him? By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell. "y
2 Was It Love '9 or, Collegians and Sweet-
. hearts. By Wm. Mason Turner, M. D.
g '{hg Girl ill-’lii‘e. t By Bagiey T. Cam bell.
rave car : or ‘tartiin i .
5 lsz Alrabala Southworlthf g y flange
ens e aynor t to \Vork .
William Mason 'm’mer, M. D. Gm
6 The Secret Marriage. -B Sara Claxton.
7 ‘A Daughter of Eve; or, linded by Love.
By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell.
8 Heart to Heart. B Arabella Southworth.
9 Alone in the “for! ' or The Young Man‘s
Ward. By the author of “ Clifton," etc.
10 A Pair of Gray Eyes. By Rose Kenned .
ll Entangled; or, A Dangerous Game. y
Henrietta Thackeray.
12 His Lawful Wife; or, Myra, the Child of
Adoption. By Mrs Ann S. Stephens.
, the Little unkeress' or, The
adet’s Woom . yCorinne‘ ushrnan.
Why I Married im. By Sara Claxton.
16 A Fair Face; or. Out in the World. By
16 TBartl‘eyi'l; Campbell.
rus or Not- or, A True Kni ht. B
Margaret Leic»ster’. g y
{g fills“) :llLovcrfi] BlgmbellaMSouthworth.
o ' or, o -‘ arred arri . B
Mrs. Mary Breed Croweil. age y
19 The Broken Betrothal; or, Love versus
20 0Hatle. Byiinlilrygracgflalpine.
rp Ian 0 le‘ ran re Cl 1 r
Lost Heir. By’Agiie Penne.‘ r i 0 ’ The
21 Now and Forever; or, Why.Did She Mar-
rfi Him? By Henrietta Thackeray.
22 T e Bride of an Actor. By the author
of “ Alone in the World ” “ Clifton," etc.
23 Leap Year; or, Why She Proposed. By Sara

nor Bis us.
25 Only a Schoolmistress; at, Her Untold
Secret. By Arabella Southworth.
26 Without :1 art. By Col. P. In raham.
27 Was She a quette'! or, A 8Strange

Courtship By Henrietta Thackera .
28 8 hi
rs. Ann E. Stephens.
29 For Her Dear Sake. By Sara Claxton.
30 The Ben uet Girl. B Agile Penna.
31 A Mad arriu o. By aryA.Denison
32 Mariana, the rlma Donna' or, Roses
and Lilies. B Arabella Southwert’h.
g3 P0 Three isters. By Alice Flemin .
4 Ma _ loge of Convenience; or, as
as .1ng lint tBlisamngblgn. A to.
go no or. y to. ugus
86 Sir Archer’s Bride- or Th ueenorfiis
Heart. By Arabella So’uthivonaq
37 The Country Cousin. Rose Kennedy.
38 His Own A sin' orI Trust Her Not. By
Arabella Sout worth.
89 Flirtation; or, A Yo Girl's Good Name.
By Jacob Abarbanell. (E ph. Royal.)
40 Pledfied to Marry. By Sara 01 n.
all Bliu Devotion. By Alice Fiemi .

42 Beatrice, the Beautiinl; or. His ond
Love. By Arabella Southworth.
43 The Baronet’s Secret; or, The Rival Hali-
Sisters. By Sara Claxton.
44 The On] Daufirhtcr; or, Brother against
. dAlioeFieming. Lo A An Odd
en oe° or .
By Arabella Southworth; ’ W t s
46 The Little Heiress; or, Under a Cloud.
47 BBy Mrs. Mas!- A.Il‘)enisan.
ec se ove Him ‘
n e o erse " or ‘ -
.9 “We 35'3- Rsir’wd’ WWW
. s ear I s ress or Love at Firs
S ht. By Arabella Southv‘vorth. t
50 Tfiiaevgubun Heiress' or. The Prisoner of

tresse. BéMrs. A. on,
51 Two Young iris; or. The Bride of an
Earl. By Alice Fleming.
52 The Win ed Messenger; or, Risking All
for a He By Mrs. Ma Reed Crowell. .
58 A nos Hope the Ac ress. By William
£550 Turner ’11 D

n . .
54 osnta’g‘vognaéa. use?“ or. Saved from the
55 She mo l‘otom ’ alme'
Conquer. By Arabella Southwort
56 Love-Mad; or Betrothed Married Divorced
and —. 13me. Mason Turner, M. D.
g; {Engrgfon irnli BK Alice Flemlnfi.
as
G rdinn By Mrs Masry fieggowgliteflom

11E . .
A Widow’s Wiles or A ‘
59 B Rachel Bernhardt} ’ Bltmvwgemce'

or The Diam
By Mrs. Jennie Davis Burton. 0nd Legacy‘

61 A Wicked Heart. BISN‘IClaxton.

09 The Maniac Bride. By Margaret Blount.
63' The Creole Sisters. By Anna E. Porter.
04 What Jealousy Did. By Alice Manning.
65 The Wife’- Secret. By 001. Juan laws,

By;

Love Him; or,hStooping to '

l

eapest Library Ever Published! 1

 

66 A Brother’s Sin' or, Flora‘s Forgiveness.
By Rachel Bernhardt.

' 67 Forbidden Bans. By Arabella Southworth.

 

 

 

Clax n. ,
24 Her Face Was Her Fortune. By Elea- ‘, 90 The

1 Chase; or, The Gambler's yWife. By s  :‘lfigfl‘éfir 21%]:th Mm

8 Weavers and Wait. B M. E. Braddon.
69 Camille; or, The Fate 0 a Coquette. By
Alexandre Dumas.
70 The Two 0r huus. By D‘Enery.
71 MI! gaging ii‘e. By My Young Wife‘s
us .

an

72 The Two Widows. By Annie Thomas.

73 Rose Michel; or, The Trials of a Factory
Girl. By Maud Hilton.

74 Cecil Castlernuiuc’s Ga e' or, The Story
of a Broidered Shield. B ui a.

75 Thine Black Lady of tuna. By J. S. Le

arm.

76 Charlotte Tom the. B Mrs. Rowson.

77 Christian Oak 0 ’~ "stake. By the
author of “ John Ha 'fax, Gentleman," etc.

78 My Young Husband; or, A Confusion in
the Family. By Myself.

79 A ueeu Amongst Women. By the
ant or of “Dora Thorne," etc, etc.
80 Her Lord and Master. By Florence
Marryat.
. 81 Lucy ’I‘eulple, Sister of Charlotte.
82 A Long Time Ago. By Meta Orred.
83 Playing for High Stakes. By Annie

Thomas.

84 The Laurel Bush. By the author of
“John Halifax, Gentleman." *

85 Led Astray. By Octave Feuiilet.

86 Janet’s Repentance. By George Eliot.

87 The Romance oi‘a Poor Young Man.
By Octave Feuiliet.

88 A Terrible Deed; or, All for Gold. By
Emma Garrison Jones.

89 A Gilded Sin. By the author of “Dora

horn." etc.
Author’s Daughter.

Hewitt.
91 The Jilt. By Charles Reade.
92 Eileen Alan nu; or, the Dawning oi the Day.
By Dennis O‘Sullivan.
93 Love’s Victory. By B. L. Fa eon.
94 The Quiet Heart. By Mrs. O phant.
Marsh.
B Rachel Bemhardt.
By Ka harine King.

By Mary

97 Hugh Melton.
98 Alice Learmont. By Miss Mulock
90 Marjorie Bruce’s By Mary

Patrick.
100 Throufil: Fire and Water. By Fred-
erick Tel t.
101 Hannah. By Mss Mullock.
102 Pefi Wellington. B CharlesBeade.
103 A esporate Deed. yErskineBo d.
104 Shadows on the Snow. By B. .Far-

eon.

105 a‘he Great Hoggurty Diamond. By
W. M. Thackeray.

106 From Dreams to Waking. By E.

Ifiynn Linton.

107 oor Zeph! By F. W. Robinson.

108 The Sad Fortunes ofthe Rev. Amos
Barton. By George Eliot.

109 Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses. By

B. L. FWeon.
110 £813 audering Heir. By Charles

e. .

11 1 The Brother’s Bet; or Within Six
Weeks. By Emilie Pagan C en.

112 A Hero. By Miss ulock.

113 Paul and Vir inia. From the Wench of

Lovers.

Bernardln St. erre.

114 9Twas In Trafalgaru Buy. By Wal-
tor Besant and James Rice.

1 15 The Maid ofKilleenu. By Wm. Black.

1 16 Hett . By Henry Kingsley.

117 The uy-sido Cross or, The Raid oi
Gomez. By Captain E. A. ' an.

118 The talcar of Wakefield. By Oliver

Go .
119 Maud Mohan. By Annie Thomas.
120 Thaddeus of Warsaw. By Miss Jane

Porter.
121 The King of No-Land. By B. L. Far-

eon. .

122 ovel, the Widower. By W. M.E‘hsck-
era .

123 An’ Island Pearl. ByB. L. Farjeon.

124 Cousin Phillis.

125 Leila; e of Grenada. By Ed-
ward Bulwer (Lord L on).

126 When the Shi Comes Home. By
Walter Besant and ones Rice.

127 One of the Family. vaJsmes Payn.

128 The Birthrlght. BfiMrs. Gore.

129 Motherless; or, The armer‘s Sweetheart.
B Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

130 omeless; or, Two Orphan Girls in New

131 York' By a! “36”” Th R1 airy ‘
Sister a us s or or e v c-
Hearts. By Mrs. 113de rows“.

182 Sold for Gold. By Mrs. M. V. Victor.

186 Lord Roth’s Sin. By Georgiana Dickens.

184 bl:in He Love Her 1 ByBu-tley '1‘. Comp-
1 35 sunnea Against. Byunum Iovejoy.

 

1 86 3V? llShe His Wife 1 By Mrs. Mary Reed
r0 9 .

137 The Village on the Cliil‘. By Miss
Thack '

em .

138 Poor \yalerial or, The Broken Truth.
11:; Margaret Blount.

139 anui-et Graham. By G. P. R, James.

1:10 \Vit tout Mercy. Bibartie T.Campbell.

141 Honor Bound. By ‘iiiian ovejoiyr.

142 Fleeing iron: Love. By Mrs. arriet

Irving.
1 43 Abducted; or, A Wicked Woman‘s Work.
By Bett Winwood.
144 A Strain a Marriage. By Lillian Lovejoy.
145 'grvovczmfi 1’!) Lives. By Mrs. Mary Reed

' w .

146 A Desperate Venture; or, For Love‘s
Own Sake. By Arabella Sou hworth.

147 The “’ar of Hearts. By Corinne Cush-
man.

148 Which \Vas the Woman 'I or, Strangely
Misjudged. By Sara Claxton.

149 An Ambitious Girl or. She Would Be
An Actress. By Frances elen Davenport.

'1 50 Love Lord ofAll. By Alice May Fleming.

151 A Wild Girl. By Corinne Cushmen.
152 A Man’s Sacrifice. By Harriet Irving.
153 Did She Sin. By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell.
154 He Loves Me Not. By Lillian Lovejoy.
1 55 Winning “lays. By Margaret Blonnt.

1 56 What she Cost Him; or. Crooked Paths.
By Arabella Southworth.

157 A Girl’s Heart. By Rett Winwood.

158 A Bitter Mistake' Or, A Young Girl's
Folly. By Agnes Mary shaman.

159 Lad Helen’s Vow‘ or. The Mother‘s
Score By the Late Mrs.  1“. Eliot.

160 Buying a Heart. By Lillian Lovejoy.

161 Pearl of Pearls. By A. P. Morris. Jr.

162 A Fateinl Game; or, Wedded and Ported.
By Sara Ciaxtou.

163 The Creole Cousins; or, Falseu Fair.
By Philip S. Warne. I

164 A Scanning ordeal; or, May ley‘5‘
Mad Marriage. By Mrs. Georgiana Di ens.

165 A Strange Girl. By Albert W. Aiken.

166 A Man’s Sin. By Rett Winwood.

167 The Hand of Fate; or, The Wreck of
Two Lives. By Arabella Sonthworth.

168 Two Fair Women. By Wm. M.'l‘urner.

169 Tempted Throu h Love; or, One
Woman‘s Error. By illian Lovejoy.

170 Blind Barbara’s Secret. By Mary
Grace Halpine.

or, Through

171 A woman’s Witcher ;t
on.

Much Tribulation. By Sara

172 Black Eyes and Blue. By Corinne
’ Cushman.

173 The Cost or a Folly. By Georgiana L
Dickens.

174 The Pretty Puritan. By A Parson's
Daughter.

175 Is Love u Mocker 1 or, Revenge is
Sweet. By Arabella Bout worth.

176 Adria, the Adopted. By Jennie Davis
Burton.

Woman He Loved; or. Fate-
By Agnes Mary Shelton. '
1 78 The Locked Heart. By Corinne Oushman.
1 79 Parted by Treachery. By Harriet Irving.
180 Was She a Wife 1 or, The Proof of Love.

By Bett Wlnwood.
181 Under a Cloud; or. A Daughter‘s Bus
By Claxtonj

picion.

1 77 For the
ml Links.

1 An A erlcan ueen or, The Heart 06
82 Gold. Sly Grace Mgr-tuner.3
1 A print of Honor or Diamond Cut
83 Diamond. ByLillian Lov‘ejoy‘.
184 Pursued to the Altar. By cox-inns
Cushman.
185 Put to a” Test; or A Fortune Hunter‘s

Fete. By rgiana Dic ens.
1 86 The Terrible Truth; or, Tha'l‘homhurst
Mystery. By Jennie Davis Burton.
187 Outwitted by
Scheme. By
.Child of the Street' or A Pearl
00. By Col. Prentiss ingrsham' .

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$23. Dashing Dr
894. Will-o‘-the-\ isp.
Dashing Dick.
Old Crossfire.
rlrsizn griatnbéeba

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Old Strategy.
gaaygrifiilri. the Chief.

e e era.
The Rival Hillier:
The Texan Scout.
Zebra Zack.
Masked Messenger.
Mor ran, the Pirate.
The Sp‘y.
Tahle. he railar.
The Boy Chief.
Tim, the Trailer.

Ax

Stella. the S y.
The White venger.
The Indian King.
The Long Trail.
Kirk. the Guide.
The Phantom Trail.
The Apache Guide.
I'é‘he Iliad Miner.

een Eye,t eRanger
Blue Belt. Guide.
8F1$ltfs

1e . e r y.
Old Bald Hear.
Red Knife Chief.
Sib Cone. Trapper.
The Bear Hunter.
Bashrnl Bill Spy.
'léhe White ‘hief.

ortina. Scourge.
The new S .
Scoustklif ‘76. py
1??th Jack.

asked Spy.
Kirke. Ron ade.

Thornpath, Trailer.
Foul-weather J 8dr.
The Black Rider.
or are 
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Alone on the 152:5.
Phantom Horseman.

The Phantom p.

. The Red Rider.

881. The Grizzly-Hunters.
Mad

in s all“

. e r .
T... as me“
The Hunch k.
The Black Wizard.

§§§§§§55§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§E§§§§EE§§§§§E§§§E§§§

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The Stone Chief.
The Gold Demon.
Eutawan. the Slayer
Masked Guide.

The Conspirators.

Swiftwingi

Caribou p.

The Privateer.

441. The Black S .

2:3. Tliel)oomt.h unter.
. Barden, e Ranger.

444. The Gray Scalp.

445. The Peddler Spy.

446. The \Vhite Canoe.

447. %h Peters.

448. e Two Hunters.

449. The Traitor Spy.

450. The Gray Hunter.

451. Little Mocmsin.

452. The White Hermit.

fifié

E5?
3‘

Ea?
RE
55‘
Si

468. Single Ha .

469. Tippy. the Texan.
470. Youn Mustanger.
471. The unted Life.
472. The Buffalo Trapper.
473. Old Zip. >
474. Fogho

479. Bald Eagle.
480. The Black Princess.

48]. .
482 Riflemen of the Miami
483. The Moose Hunter.

. The Brigantine.

. Put. Pomi’ret’s Ward.

§§§§§§§e
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9

 

. kwoodsBrl
511. Chip. the Cave Child.
512. Bill Biddou.Tra per.
:18. Outward Bonn .

i“

Burt Bunker.

PaleFace Squaw.

Winifred Wint

Wrecker's Daughter.

ghoul? ngreveAi-figel.
e ron er

r lorida.

The Maid of Esopus.

Ahmo's Plot,

The Water Wait.

The Hunter’s Cabin.

Hates Loves.

Oonomoo. the Enron

White Faced racer.

Wetzel, the Scout.

. The akerem Spy.

513. Vail Benefactress.
:3: Uncle Ezekiel.

c

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

544. Myrtle. the Child of 548. The Creole Sisters.
545 Ellgehlllmtj  lam Ell? Child 1
. o. . e o
516. The Blacksmith of Adida’Lion.
Antweia’. 551. Haw eye Harry.
547. Madge ylde. Others in Press.
THE ILLUMINATED DIME
POCKET NOVELS.
2. Dead Shot. 109. The Scalped Hunter.
8. The Bo Miners. 110. Nick the Scout.
4. Blue ck. 111. The Texas Ti er.
5. Nat Wolfe. 113. The Crossed ives.
6. The White Tracker. 118. Tiger Heart. Tracker
7. The Outlaw's Wife. 114. The Masked Avenger
8. The Tall Tra per. 115. The Pearl Pirates.
10. The Island rate. 116. Black Panther.
11. The Boy Ranger. 117. Abdiel. the Avenger.
12. Bess. theTra per. 113. Cato the Cree r.
13. The French py. 119. Twollinnded at.
14. Long Shot. 120. Mad Trail Hunter.
15. Gunmaker of Border. 121. Black Nick.
16. Red Band. 122. Kit Bird.
17. Ben, the  128. The S cter Riders.
19. The Specter ief. 1%. Giant ete.
20. The B ar-Killer. 125. The Girl Ca tain.
21. Wild Not. 1%. Yankee Ep .
.22. Indian Jo, the Guide. 127. Silvetspur.
28. Old Kent the Ranger. 1%. nutter Dick.
24. One—E ed Trapper. 129. T 8 Child Spy.
25. Godbold. the Spy. 130. Mink Coat.
26. The Black Ship. 131. Red Plume.
27. Single E 132. Clyde; the Trailer.
28. Indian . 138. The Lost Cache.
29. The Scout. - 184. The Cannibal Chief.
30. Eagle Eye. 135. Karaibo.
31. The Mysth Canoe. , 136. Scarlet Moccasin.
32. The Golden Harpoon. : 1:17. Kidnu. pod.
33. The Scalp King. 1 1:18. Maido the Mountain.
31. Old Lute. . 139. The Scioto Scouts
35. Bainbolt, the Ranger. 140. The llordcrlionngndc ‘
36. The Boy Pioneer. 141. The Mute Chief.
87. Carson, the Guide. 142. Bwno. the Lumen
38. The Heart-Eater. 143. Mountain Katr.
40. The Huge Hunter. . 144. The Red Sculpvr.
41. Wild Nat. the Trapper 145. The Lone Chief.
42. [flux-clap 146. The Silver Bugle.
43. T eW teOutlaw. 147. Chin athe Cheyenne
44. The Dog Trailer. 148. The angled Trail.
M. The Elk King:‘ 149. The Unseen Hand.
48. Adrian. the lot. 150. The Lone Indian.
47. The Man-hunter. 151. The Branded Brave.
48. The Phantom Tracker 152. Billy Bowlegs.
49. Moccasin Bill. 153. The Valley Scout.
50. The Wolf Queen. 154. Red Jacket.
51. Tom Haw Trailer. 155. The Jungle Scout.
52. The Mad 'ef. 156. e Cherokee Chief.
53. The Black Wolf. 157. he Bandit Hermit.
54. Arkansas Jack. 158. The Patriot Scouts.
55. Blackbeard. 159. The Wood Rangers.
56. The River Rifles. 160. The Red Foe.
57. Hunter Ham. 161. Beautiful Unknown.
58. Clondwood. 166. Canebrake Mose.
59. The Texas Hawks. 163. Hank, the Guide.
00. Merciless Mat. 1“ The Border Scout.
61. Mad Anthony’s Scouts 165. Wild Net.
62. The Luckiess Tr-apper 166. Maid of Wyoming.
68. The Florida Soon . 167. The Three Captives.
64. The Island Trapper. 1%. The Lost Hunter.
65. Wolf-Cam» . Border Law.
33' SharERanunfiye  %e iii-ad s
. . . e . or y
68. Iron- and. . 178. The forest p ter
60. The Yellow Hunter. 178. The Border con.
70. The Phantom Rider. 174. Border Vengeance.
71. Delaware Tom. 175. Border Bessie. '
72. Silver Ride. 176. The Sons of Liberty.
78. The Skeleton Swut. 177. The Lost Bride.
74. Little Rifle. 178. Keetsea.
75. The Wood Witch. 79. The Tonkawa Spy.
76. Old Ruff. the'l‘ra . 18). The Prairie Scourge.
77. The Scarlet She, ers 181. Red Ligitmng.
78. The BorderRIfleman. 82. Brave eart. _
79. Outlaw Jack. 93. Night-Hawk Kit.
. 80. Tiger Tail. Seminole. 184. Mustang Sam.
81. Death Dealer. 185. Hurricane Bill.
89. Kenton, the Ranger. 1&3. The Bed Outlaw.
88. war Horseman. 187. The Swamp Scout.
84. Three Trapper-s. 188. The Shawnee’s Foe.
85. Kaleolah. 89. Mohawk Nut.
86. The Hunter Hercules. 190 Old Jupe.
8?. Phil Hunter. 91. The Prah'ie Rifles.
88. The Indian Scout. 192. Old Kyle. the Trailer.
89. TheGirl Aven r. 198. BigFoot. the Guide.
90. The Red Herm tees. 194. The Red Brotherhood
91. Star-Face. the Slayer. 1%. The Man in Green.
92. The Antelope Boy. 1911. G g .
93. The Phantom Hunter 197 The P rle Trappers
94. Tom Pintle the Pilot. 1%. Black John.
as. The Red Wizard. 1: Knife.
96. The Rival Trapper; 200 The Mad Ski r.
W. The uaw Spy. an The Young py.
98. Dus ick. The Indian venger.
99. Colonel Crockett. 213. El Lien ts.
100. Bear Paw. mi. The Swamp Rifles.
101. law. in. The Balloon Scouts.
102. Wild Rube. m6 Dacotah Scourge.
108. The Indian Hunters. W? The Twin Scouts.
104. ‘ Eag as. Buckskin
105. Nick Do Is sue. Border Avengers.
106. The In n Spy. 310 Tim Bumble) Charge
101'. Job Dean.  The Shawnee Scout.
11$. The Wood m The Silent Slayer.

213. The Prairie Queen. 226. On the Deep.

214. The Buckwoodsmen. 22?. irons.

215. The Prisoner of La 228. The Mountaineer.
Viutresse. 229. The Hunter's Escape

. Mustang Hunters. 237. The Hfiter‘s Vow.

. Guilty or Not Guilty. 268. The Hunter's Pledge.

. The Outlaw Ranger. 2‘19. Rattlepate.

. Schuylkill Rangers. 240. The Prairie Bride.
———<oo—-—

Speakers.

Each volume contains 100 large es, printed
from clear open t , comprising tggfiest collec-
tion of Dialogues. ramas and Recitations.

The Dime Slmak are for the season of 18138 embrace
twenty-four volumes, viz.:

216. Peleg Smith. 230. The Golden Belt.

217. The Witch of the 231. The Swain Riders.
Wallowisli. 26:2. Jabez Haw .

$18. The Prairie Pirates. 233. Mnssasolt‘sDaughter

219. The Hussar Captain. 3‘34. The Mad Hunter

220. The Red Spy. tn"). The Reefer of ‘7 6.

32%;. Dick Darling. 230. Antel Abe.

223

22.74

225

 

 

1. American Speaker. 13. School Speaker.

2. National Speaker. 14. Ludicrous Speaker.

3. Patriotic Speaker. 15. Komiksl Speaker.

4. Comic Speaker. 16. Youth‘ss aker.

5. Elocutionist. 17. Eloquent filter.

6. Humorous Speaker. 18. Hail Colum in. Speak-
7. Standard Speaker. er. .

8. Stump Speaker. 19. Sen’o-Comic Speaker.
9. Juvenile Speaker. ‘20. Select S leaker.

10. Spread-Eagle Speaker 21. Funny peaker.
11. Dime Debater. 22. Jtzlll‘y Speaker.
12. Exhibition Speaker. 28. D‘ ectS eaker.
24. Dime Book of Recitations and endings.
These books are re lets with choice pieces for the
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100 Declamations and Recitatious in each 1:.

Dialogues.
The Dime Dialogues. each volume 100 pages, em.

brace thirty books,  ‘ ‘
Diiilozllos . 0. One. Dialogues No. Sixteen.
Dialogues No. Two. Dialogues Ho. seventeen.
Dialogues No. Three. Dialogues ho. Eighteen
Dialogues No. Four. Dialogues No. Nineteen.
Dialogues No. Five. Dialogues lie. Twenty.
Dialogues No. " . Dialogues I\o. Twenty-one.
Dialogues No. Seven. Dialogues No. Twenty-two.
Dialogues No. Eight. ialogues No. Twenty-three.
Dialogues No. Nine. Diaogues No. Twenty-four.
Dialogues No. Ten. Dia es No. Twenty-five.
Dialogues No. Eleven. Diflogues No. Twenty-six.
Dialogues No. Twelve. DialoguesNo.Twent seven.
Dialogues No. Thirteen. Dialogues No. Twen y—eigh t.
Dialogues No. Fourteen'Dialogues No. Twenty-nine.
Dialogues No. Fifteen. Dialogues No. Thirty. A

15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book.

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l Deadwood Dick, run PRINCE! or I'll: Row
11de L. Wheeler.
2 ellotvstone Jack. B Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
3 Kansas King. B Bu alo Bill.
4 The Wild-Horse lunters. By Captain
Mayne Reid and Cilptain Frederick Whittaker.
5 Vagabond Joe, was YOUNG Wmsnrso Jaw.
B llCoomes. Double Number locts.
6 ill Biddon Trapper. is? E. 8. Ellis.
'1 The Flying Bankee. B Co . 1:. lngraham.
8 Seth Jones. By Edward . Ellis.
9 Adventures oi Baron Munchausen.
0 Nat Todd. By E. S. Ellis.
The Two Detectives. BiyA.W. Aiken.
Gulliver’s Travels. B ean Swift.
The Dumb S y. ByO Coomes.
Aladdin; or. HE Wounsarm. .
The Sea-Cat. By Captain Fred. Whittaker.
Robinson Crusoe. 27mustmtions.)
Ral lh Roy. By Col. entiss Ingraham.
Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages.
Tile Phantom Spy. By Buffalo Bill.
0 The Double Daggers. By E. L. Wheeler.
21 The Frontier Angel. By Edward S. Ellis.
22 Tile Sea Ser ent. BfiJuan Lewis.
23 Nick 0’ the ight. yT. C. Harbaugh.
24 Diamond Dirk. By Colonel P. Ingmham.
25 The Bo Ca )tain. By R0 or Starbuck.
28 Cioven oo . By Edward .Wheeler.
27 Antelope Abe, was Bor Gums. 011 Coomes.
28 Buil‘alo Ben. By Edward L. Wheeler.
29 The Dumb Page. B Capt. F. Whittaker.
80 Roaring Ralph Ron Wood, was: REC!-
Lnss RANGER. By Ha St. George.
81 Real-Knife. By 0 Coomes.
82 Bob \Vooii‘. B Edward L. Wheeler.
83 The Ocean B oodhound. S. W. Pierce.
34 Oregon Sol. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.
5 Wild Ivan. By Edward L. Wheeler.
The Bo Clown . By Frank s. Finn.
The Hi den Lodge. By ’1‘. C. Harbaugh.
Ned W ide, ran Bor Scov'r. By Texas Jack.
Death- ace, rm: Darrow. By Wheeler.
Roving Ben. By J. J. MsrshalL
41 Lasso Jack. B Oil Coomes.
42 The Phantom iner. By E. L. Wheeler.
48 Dick Darlin . BfiCa t. Fred. Whittaker.
4-! Battling Ruie. y arrySt.
46 Old Avalanche. By Edward L. Wheeler.
40 (31... Eye. B Capt. J. F. C. Adams.
47 Night! ale at. By '1‘. C. Harhaufih.
48 Black ohn, m Rom-Aom. By adger.
49 0m a Oil. By Edward L. Wheeler.
60 Burt. unker, m Turns. 0. E. Lasalle.
51 The Bo By Archie C. irons.
2 The Wh te Buti‘alo. By C. E, Lasalle.
Jim Bludsoe Jr. B Edward L.Wheeler.
Ned Hazel. 3’ Ca t. fr. 0. Adams.
Dendi -E e. ufl'alo Bill.
Nick h tiles’ et. Ca. t. J. F. 0. Adams.
Deadwood Dick’s Ea" es. By Wheeler.
The Border'.Kin . yOll Coomes.
Old Hickor .  St. Geo e.
The \Vhite indium apt. J. F. . Adams.
Buckhorn ill. By Edward L. Wheeler.
Thor-Shadotv ship . B Col. P. Ingraham.
8 The Red Brotherhoo . W. J. Hamilton.
Band, Jack. By '1‘. C. Harbaugh.
Burr cane Bill. B Jos. E. Badger, Jr
single Hand. By .J. Hamilton.
Patent-leather oe. By Phill El. Warne.
8 Border Robin Hood. B fiuflalo Bill.
Gold Rifle. B Edward L. eeler.
old le’s Cab II. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.
Delaware Dick. By Oil Coomes.
li'lad Tom \Vcstern. By W. J. Hamilton.
Deadwood Dick on Deck. ByWheeler.
Hawk-eye Harry. By 011 Coomes.
The Boy Duelist. By Col. P.l rshaln.
Abe Colt, run Csow-Kinum. B A. . Aiken.
Corduroy Charlie. By E. Wheeler.
Blue Dick. By Cagtain Mayne Reid.
Sol Gin er, Gus-r rim. By A.W. Aiken.
Rosebu Bob. gy Edward L. Wheeler.
Li htning Jo. y Captain J. F. 0. Adams.
K t nareioot. By T. 0. Barbe ll.
Rollo, the Boy Ranger. 1%! all Coomes.
ldyl the Girl Miner. By . L. Wheeler.
Buck Buckram. B Cs t. J. F. 0. Adams.
Band Rock. By . ‘aldo Browne.
The and Pirates. By CaEt. Mayne Reid.
88 PhotofraB: Phil. B E. .Wheeler.
89 lslail J . ByBrace rid eHem g.
90 The Dread Rider. By G. aldo rowne.
91 The Captain oftgyeg ub;

cumulus-uninsur-
@WJGU‘Ifiww-l

QGMWMMMMGM
ucwmqambu

@GQQQGGQ
O Jahfi N

a
O

QQDDOWWGd-leleldsld-lel
aamammnowm-taou-wn—

blior, Tag YOUNG
RWAL Am race emyng.
92 Canada Chet. By Edwardh eelel'.
93 The Be Miners. B Edward 8. Ellis.
94 Midni t Jack. By . 0. Herbs h.
32 or firm":- uer it“. till:

ate - e, m mow. y - -
97 The Outlayw Brothers. B J. J. MarshalL
98 Rollin Hood. By Prof. Gi ersleeve.
99 The er of Taos. By G. Waldo Browne.
100 Dead ood Dick in Leadville; or. A
Smiles 91ml! son 13mm. B Wheeler.
l01 Jack Hark-way in New ork. By

Bracebrl Belay“.
102 Dick De-d- n- 3100th
103 The Lion oi-the lea. By Co . 0 Bars.
104 Deadwood Dick’s Device. Bfi eeler.
105 Old Rube, mfiusm Capt. .Holmes.
[08 old Frosty vamI. By .Qflarbaugh.
107 one-Egg m. a?! JamesskGBeggz.
a . Earl"
 B:$¥o%vhek as etective. By
‘, eeler.

110 figl‘wk Steed of the Prairies. A
Mafia? or TexanAdventIu'e. By Bowen.
:11 The a Idem. 001 r. loan-ham-

]! The Mad Hunter. 3! M

Jack no le. By Edward L. Wheeler.
The Blac Schooner. Roger Btarhuck.
The Mad Miner. By G. Waldo Browne.
The Hllssar Ca ltain. 001. P. In rahsm.
Gilt-Edged Die . By E. L. Whee or.
“(ill Somers. m Bor Dmncrlvs. Morris.
Mustang Sam. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
The Branded "and. By Frank Dumont.
Cinnamon Chip. By Edward L. Wheeler.
Phil Hardy, 'rna Boss Bov. By 0. Morris.
Kiowa Charley. By T. C. Harbaugh.
Tlpp y, TIIE TM. By George Gleason.
Bonanza Bill, MINER. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
Pica une Pete. By Charles Morris.
Wil -Fire, Bossor'rmr Row. B Dumont.
The Young Privateer. By H. vendish.
Deadwood Dick’s Double. By Wheeler.
Detective Dick. By Charles Morris.
The Golden Hand. By Geo. W. Browne.
The Hunted Hunter. B Ed. 8. Ellis.
Boss Bob. B Ed. L. Whee er.
Su re Shot Set 1. By 011 Coomes.
(‘aptain Paul. By C. Dunnin Clark.
Night-Hawk Kit. Bt'Jos. .Bsdzer, Jr.
The Helpless "and. Capt. Mayne Reid.
Blonde III“. ll Edward L. Wheeler.
Judge Lynch, r. B T. C. Hal'bauxh.
lilue Blazes. B Frau I Dumont.
Solid Sam. 'Bly ward L Wheeler.
Handsome arrg. lay Charles Morris.
Sour-Face Saul. 0 Coomes.
Daint Lance, rim v SPORT. By Badger.
(‘apta ll Ferret. B Edward L. Wheeler.
Silver Star, 'rns BOY mar. By Coomes.
\Vill “'lldllre. By Charles Morris.
Sharp Sam. By J. Alexanderi‘atten.
A Game of Gold. By Ed. L. VVheoler.
Lance and Lasso. B Ca)t.F.WhitLaker.
Panther Paul. B 05. . Bud er. Jr.
Black Hess, WILL Imrmn's was; orI
WINNING Ammsr Ones. By Charles Morris.
Eagle Kit, mi: Bov Danes. B 011 Coomes.
Tile Sword Hunters. BK .Whittaker.
Gold Trig er rill: Sros'r. . C. Harbaugh.
Deadwao Dick or Deadwood; or,
Tin: Prensa Plan. B Edward L. Wheeler.
Mike Merry. L arles Morris.
Pane Frank 0! Colorado. Buifalo Bill.
The ost Captain. By Whittaker.
The Black Gin-It. iy J. E. Badger. Jr.
New York Nell. By .L. Wheeler.
Will Wildfire in the ‘Voods. Morris.
Little Texas. By Oil Geomes.
Dandy Rock’s Pledge. By G.W. Browne.
Bill Baggage. B Char es Morris.
Hie ory Hurr . y Harry St. George.
A sa Scott, ’l‘ns rsAilnoA'r BOY. By Willett.
Deadly Dash. Bv Jos. E. Badger. Jr.
Tornado Tom. BE '1‘. C. Fisrhaugh.
A Trum ) (Yard. y Charles Morris.
Ebony all. By Frank Dumout.
Thunderbolt Tom. By Harry St. George.
Dand Rock’s Rival. By G.“’. Browne.
Bob got-ken, THE BOY Donors. Bv Morris.
(‘aptain Arizona. By Phil? S.Warne.
The Do Runaway. By ieut. Perry.
Nobhy iek of Nevada. E. L. Wheeler.
old Solitary. By Oil Uoomes.
nob Beckett THE BANK Roman. Morris.
The Sea. Trai er. 13,7 Lieut. H. D. Perry.
Wild Frank. By ward L. Wheeler.
Little Hurricane. By Oll Coomes.
The Hidden Hand. By Chas. Morris.
The Boy Trailers. By Badger. Jr.
Evil Eye. By Frank Dumont.
Cool Desmond. By Col. Della Sara.
Fred Halyard. By Charles Morris.
Ned Tangle, rat: Bonner. Bov. Harhsulrh.
Bob Roe ett, rm: CRACXSMAN. By Morris.
Dand Darke. B Wm. B. Eyster.
Buil‘a 0 Billy. Coat. Ta lor, U. S. A.
Captain Kit. ByLeut. .D. erry.U.S.N.
Captain Mask. B‘y Phil! S.Warne.
Bull'an Bill’s Be . By%aptain Taylor.
Deadwood Dick’s Dream. By Wheeler.
shadowed. By Charles Morris.
Little Grit, m WILD RIDER. By Ingrahaln.
Arkansaw. By T. C. Rambling].
199 Featherwei ht. By Edward illett.
200 The Boy Be ouins. By Whittaker.
20] The Black Hills Jezebel. By Wheeler.
202 Pros eet Pete. By 011 Coomes.
203 The oy Pards. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.
204 Gold Plume. mBov BAND". In ham.
205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom. By healer
206 Dark Paul, m TIGER Kim. By 0. Morris
207 Nov 0 Nick. B '1‘. C. Harbaugh.
208 The oy Hercu es. By Oil Coomes.
209 Fritz, m Bum-Ber Dmarws. Wheeler.
210 Faro Frank of Hi h Pine. By Elyster.
l Crooked Cale. Bfi 0s. E. Badger. r.
Dashing Dave. y Charles Morris.
Fritz to the Fr nt. By E. L. Wheeler.
Wolfgan sans or in: Rams.
By Captain ke .
Captain Bullet. B '1‘. 0. Herbs h.
Bison Bill. By COL ntiss ling-again.
Captain Crack-Shot. By E. L. Wheeler.
Tiger Tom. was Tms Tanner. Coomes.
Despsrd, the Duelist. .
0 Tom Tanner. By Charles orrls.
1 an ar Coated 8am. ByE. L. Wheeler.
rft, the Bravo Sport. a
22 Ozark Ali” Kala or m 0mm. By

Dick.
arcoal.
“ 229 Summer, m Ber Burr.
QM Du Darrell. Turns. By ill. Emerson.

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229 Crimson Rate. By Col. P. lug-sham.
230 Tile Yankee Rajah. By 0. .Clark.
‘ Plucky Phil. By T. C. Hsrhaugh.
Gold-Dust Dick. By E. L. Wheeler.
Joe Buck, oi‘.\ nzels. By. A W. ’Aiken.
Old Rocky’s ‘Boyees.l BucksldnSsm.
Shadow sum. BgdChules Morris.
Apollo Rill. By waIdLWheeler.
Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain; or.
Tin Mvsrlinlous Rsscnmw. By P. In raham.
The Parson Detective. ByOll Ines.
The Gold-seeker Guide:. or Tn Los'r
MOUNTAIN. B Captain Mayne Reid.
(‘yclone K t. B Edward L. Wheeler.
lilll Bravo an His Bear Pards.
By T. C. Harbau ll.
' he Two ‘ B oods’. By Charles Morris.
The Dlsgiiised Guide. By 011 Coomes.
Sierra Sam. By Edward L. WheI-lcr.
Merle, the Mlddy. By (701. Ringraham.
Giant George. By Buckskin Sam.
Old Grizzly and His Pets. By Captain
“ Bruin “ Adams.
Sierra Sam’s Secret. B E. L. Wheeler.
Milo llolner. By Capt. ‘red. Whittaker.
Midshipman Mutlnecr. By ingrnharn.
Light-house Lize. By J. F. 0. Adams.
Dick Dushawuy. By Chas. Mon‘is.
Sierra Sam‘s l’urd. B I E. L. Wheeler.
The Hilli‘ Blood. By ‘ ward S. Ellis.
(‘aptaln Apollo. By T. C. Hnrhau h.
Young Kentui'k. By Capt. Marl: ilwn.
The Lost Hunters. By Capt. Adams.
sierra Sam’s Seven. By E. L. Wheeler.
The Golden Harpoon. ByRSutrbuck.
Dare-Devil Dan. By 011 Coomes.
Fergus Fear-naught. By Geo. L. Aiken.
'l‘he Youngr Sleuths. B Charles Morris.
DeadwoodDick’sDivl e. By Wheeler
The Floating Feather. By lngraham.
The Tiger Tanner. By Capt. Whittaker.
Killb’ar, the Guide. By Ensign Warren.
The Buckskin Detective. By ’1‘. C.
Harbaugh. B
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QGVBIOIBID‘OIUIDIVIGI-l—l‘n fifii—i-Iii-Ii- ini-

“NEMNDBDENNNBIO

Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail.
Edward L. Wheeler.
By 001. P. Ingrahsm.

The Gold snip.

Blizzard Ben. By Cagtain Mark Wilton.

The [III e Hunter. Edward 8. Ellis.
By 0 l Coomes.

lliinksk n Mike.
Jumbo Joe. B Edward LWheeler.
harles Morris.

Jolly Jim. By
Arizona Jack. By Buckskin Sam.
Ingrahsm.

lilerle Monte’s Cruise. B
eeler.

Deliver Doll. By Edward L.
The Three Trappers. Wider Carson.
o. By '1‘. 0.

Old Winch, TEE Bins
Harbaugh.

Merle Monte’s Fate. By Col. Ingraham.
Denver Doll’s Victory B Wheeler.
The Typo Detective. y ward Willett.
Indian Joe. By Major L. W. Carson.

The Sea Marauder. By Col. lngraham.
Denver Doll’s Decoy. By E. L. Wheeler.

Josh the Boy Tenderi‘oot; or Tan
Winn Man or Human BAR. By Mark Wilton.

Billy Blue-Eyes. By Col. P. Ingraham.
The Scalp King. By Capt. J. l". 0. Adam
Jolly J im’s Job. By Charles Morris.
Little Foxfire. By Oil Coomes.

Turk, the Ferret. By E. L. Wheeler.

29]
292 Sancho Pedro rs: Ber Buorr. By
Major a. L. St. Vmi’n.

293 Red Claw, rm: OKs-Erna Turns. By

Captain Comstock.
294 Dynamite Dan. By T. C. Earhaugh.
or, TEE KING or Quara-

an» attenuation»):
memo sl-lQQ-lol-l-l-lela
QH¢ condominium-co

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286

287
288
289
290

296 Fearless Phil
VILLI. By Edwa Willet

296 Denver Doll’s Dritt. By E. L. Wheeler.
297 g‘ahe Tarantula of Taos. By Buckskin
m.

298 The Water-Hound; or, Tan Yam
'I‘sosouosm. By Charles Morris.

299 A No. l the Dashing Toll-Taker.
By Edward L. Wheeler.

300 The Sk Demon; or. Rumour, 7..
Moss. y Oil Coomes.

301 Lesdville Nick was Bo! Bron. Bylu
a. L. St. Vraln. ’ l

802 The Mountain Detective. By ’10.
Harbaugh.

308 ’Liza Jane, m Gm Minn. By 1.1..
Wheeler.

804 The Dead egapgdy; or.Bnrm,-rls

Bov Booms.
Dashaway of Dakota or, A Warns!
80‘ LA!) in was damn Cm. Chas. Morris.

306 Neck-Tie Ned, m Liam Time 3 or,
Tin: Duo-Our mans. 1“on- ducal-y B.
Stoddard, Ex-Scout. 8’

807 The Strange Psi-d. By WM-

908 Keno Kit, m Ber Boom's rm. By
Celene] Prentiss lilgrsharn.

309 Deadwood Dick’s Biz Deal. Byltd-
ward L. Wheeler.

Anewiulusuryuml.

NThe Indira-VDIDI?! unraveling: gale :ll
wales CO ' In I
rel» t elm-'1: $43.23*. gamma: aysmns.
Pub ers. G William Street. New York.

 

 

 

 

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1 A Hard Crowd.

2 The Dare-Devil. Col. P. In raham.

3 Kit Carson, Jr. B Buckskin .

4 The Kidna )pcr. fil’hili S. Warne.

5 The Fire-F ends. yA. .Morris.

6 Wildcat Bob. By Edward L. Wheeler.

7 Death-Notch. By Oil Coomes.

8 The Headless Horseman. A strange

story of Texas. By Captain Ma ne Reid.

9 Handy And . B Samuel ver.

10 Vidocq, the renc Police Spy. ‘Written by
Himself-
11 Midshipman Easy. By Captain Marryat.
12 The Death-Shot. By Cagtain Mayne Reid.
13 Puthaway. By Dr. J. H. obinson.
14 Thayendancgen. B Ned Buntline.
15 The Tiger-Slat er. y Gustavo A‘imard.
16 The “'hite W zard. By Ned Buntline.
17 Nightshade. B Dr. J. H. Robinson.
18 The Son Band t. By Ned Buntline.
19 Red (ledar. By Gustave Aimard.
20 The Bandit at Bay. By Gustave Aimard.
21 The Trapper’s Daughter. By G. Aimard.
22 Whitclatv. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.
23 The Red Warrior. By Ned uuntline.
24 The Prairie Flower. By G. A'miard.
25 The Gold Guide. By Francis Johnson.
26 The Drath-Trank. By Francis Johnson.
27 The Spotter Detective. By A. W. Aiken.
28 'I‘hree-Fingered Jack. B J. E. Badger.
29 Tiger Dick, the Ear-o Ki . y P. S. Warne.
30 Gospel George. . . Badger Jr.
31 The Ne“! York Shar . By A. . Aiken.
32 n’hoys of Yale. By . D. Vose.
33 Overland Kit. By Albert W. Aiken.
34 Rocky Mountain Rob. A. W. Aiken.
35 Kentuck, the Sport. $7.9. rtW. Aiken.
36 Injlrn Dick. B Albert .Aiken.
37 iHirl, the Hunc back. By Dr. J. H. Rob-
l’l

nso .
38 Velvet Hand. By Albert W. Aiken.
39 The Russian Spy. By'Fre‘d. Whittaker.
40 The Lon Haired ‘Pards.’ By Joseph
E. Badger, r.
41 Gold Dan. By Albert W. Aiken.
42 The California Detective. By Aiken.
43 Dakota Dan. By 011 Coomes.
44 Old Dan ngback. By 011 Coomes.
45 Old Bull’s ye. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
46 Bowie-Knife Ben. B 01] Coomes.
47 Pacific Pete. BE Josep E. Badger, Jr.
48 Idaho Tom. y 011 Coomes.
49 The Wolf Demon. B Albert W. Aiken.
By Joe. . Badger, Jr.
B OlI‘Coomes.
railer. By Buffalo Bill.
Silver Sam. By Col. Delle Sara.
Always On Hand4B Philip S. Warne.
, The Scalp Hunters. yCapt. Ma eReid.
6 The Ind an Mazeppa. By A. . Aiken.
7 The Silent Hunter.~ B Perc B. St. John.
8 Silver Knife. By Dr. J. .30 inson.
9 Th From Texas. By A.W. Aiken.
60 Wide Awake. B Frank Dumont.
61 Captain Seawai . By Ned Buntiine. .
82 Loyal Heart. B Gustave Aimard.
63 The Win ed W ale. ByA. W. Aiken.
6-1 Double- By .105. E. Bad or. Jr.
05 The It a ah. ByCa t. F. Whittaker.
66 The gecter arque. ym§ne Reid.
61 The oy Jockey. By Joe. E. edger, Jr.
68 F'i‘lieAg'igliting Trapper. By Captain J.
3.

. . am
69 The Irish Ca tain Ca t. F.Whittak .
7o Ilydrabad. By Dr. J. .110 inson. or
71 Captain Cool-Blade. By .105. E. Badger.
3% {he fihiiéiltlomfflland. By A. W. Aiken.
‘ to n o t it . D .
Jan Robinson. e ed Cross By 1-

, 74 Captain of the Rifles. By Mayne Reid.
75 Gentleman George. By A. W. Aiken.
6 The con,- Musketeers. By G. Albany.
resh oi‘ Frisco. By A. W. Aiken.
he Mysterious Spy. B A. M. Grainger.
oe Phenix, Police Soy. y A. W. Aiken.
Man of Nerve. By Phil! S Warne.
he Human Tiger. By lbert W. Aiken.
ron Wrist. By Col. '1‘. ii. Monste . t
The Gold Bullet Sport. ByB
84 Hunted Down. By Albert W. Aline

85 The Cretan Rover. By Col. P. ingraham.
86 E33331: Hunter. By the author or “ Silent

lgPhilip S. Warna.

EBA-Iii:
o

mammqaqu
is

wu—cwmq

87 The Scarlet Captain. By Col. Della Sara.

88 Big George. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

89 The Pirate Prince. By Col. P. Ingraham.

90 Wild Will. By Buckskin Sam.

iii-The Winning Oar. By A. w. Aiken.

92 Bufl‘alo Dill. ByMajorDangerfleld Burr.

93 Captain Dick Talbot. By A. W. Aiken. ’
. 94 Freelance, the Buccaneer. By P. Ingraham.

95 Azhort, the sznsn. By A. P. Morris.

96 Double-Death. By Capt.  Whittaker.

97 Bronze Jack. ByAlbert W. Aiken.

9s The Rock Rider. By Capt. F. Whittaker.

99 The Giant Kinsman. By Oil Coomes.

100 The French Spy. ByA. P. Morris.

101 The Man From New Y .
W. Aiken. ' ork By Alba“

102 The Masked Band. By Geo. L. Aiken.
103 Merle, the Mutineer. By Col. Ingrahsm.

104 Montezuma the Mer .il .
Prentiss c e'. By 00"

'126 The Demon Duelist.

 

105 Dan Brown of Denver. By Joseph E. 1
Badger, Jr.

106 Shamns O’Brien. By Col. Delle Sara.

107 Richard Talbot 01‘ Cinnabar.
Albert W. Aiken.

108 The Duke of Diamonds. , By Captain
Frederick Whittaker.

1 09 Captain Kyd. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

1 1 0 The Silent Biilcman. By H. W. Herbert.

1 l 1 The Sinugglcr Captain. By N. Buntlinc.

112 Joe Phenix, the Private Detective. By
Albert W. Aiken.

l 13 The Sea Slipper. By J. H. Ingraham.
1111 The Gentleman From Pike. By P.
7arne. ‘

By

1 1 5 The Severed Head. By Capt. Whittaker.
1 l 0 Black Plume. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
1 l 7 Dashing Dandy. By Dangerfield Burr.

1 18 The Burglar Captain. By Prof. J. H.
Ingruham.

Alabama Joe. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
120 The Texan Spy. By N. M. Curtis.

121 The Sea Cadet. By Col. P. Ingrahnm.
122 Saul Sabberday. By Ned Buntline.
123 Alapaha, the Squaw. By F. Johnson.

124 Assourauin, the Avenger; or. The
Doom oi the Destroyer. By Francis Johnson.

125 The Blacksinilh Outlaw; or, Merry
England. By Harrison Ainsworth.

By Col. Monstery.
127 Sol Scott. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

128 The Chevalier Corsair. By the author
of “ Merle, the Mutineer.”

129 Mississippi Mose. By Edward Willett.
1 30 Captain Volcano. By A. W. Aiken.
131 Buckskin Sam. By 001. P. Ingrsham.

132 Nemo, King of the Tramps. By Capt.
Frederick Whittaker. ’

133 Body, the Rover. By W. Carleton.
134 Darkie Dan. By Col. P. Ingraham.

135 The Bush Ranger. ByF. Johnson.
136 The Outlaw-Hunter. By F. Johnson.
1 37 Long Board. By Oll Coouies.

138 The Border Bandits. By F. Johnson.
1 39 Fire-Eye. By 001. Prentiss Ingraham.
140 The Three Spaniards. 'By Geo. Walker.
141 Equinox Tom. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
142 Captain Crimson. By Dangerfield Burr.
143 The Czar’s Spy. By Col. '1'. H. Monstery.

144 The Hunchback of Notre-Damc.
By Victor Hugo. '

145 Pistol Pards. By Wm. R. Eyster.

146 The Doctor Detective. By G. Lemuel.
147 Gold Spur. By Col. Prentiss Ingrsbam.
148 One-Armed Air. By 011 Coomes.

l 49 The BorderiRiflcs. By Gustave Aimard.
150 E1 Rubio Bravo. By 001. Monetary.

1 51 The Freebooters. By Gustave Aimard.
1 52 Captain Ironnerve. ByMai-maduke boy.
1 53 The White Scalper. By Gustave Aimard.
1 54 Joaquin, the Saddle King. ByJ. E. Badger.
155 The Corsair Queen.‘ By Col. Ingraham.
1 56 Velvet Face. By Major Dangerfield Burr.

157 Mourad, the Mameluke. By Colonel
Thomas Boyer Monstery.

158 The Doomed Dozen. By Dr. F. Powell.
159 Bed Rudiger. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
180 Sott Hand, sharp. By Wm. B. Eyster.
161 The Wolves of New York. By Aiken.
162 The Mad Mariner. ’By Col. Ingraham.
163 Ben Brion. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

164 The King’s Fool. By C. Dunning Clark.
165 Joaquin, the Terrible. By J. E. Badger, Jr.
166 owlet, the Rubber Prince. By S. R. Urban.
167 The Man of Steel. By A. P. Morris.
168 Wild Bill. By 001. Prentiss‘lngraham.
169 Corporal Cannon. / By Col. Monstery.
170 Sweet William. By Joe. E. Badger; Jr.

ll!)

'1 71 gig" Dick, the Man of the Iron‘Heart. By
e.

ip S. Warn
172 The Black Pirate. By Col. P.1ngraham.
173 California John. By Albert W. Aiken. .
174 Phantom Knights. By Capt.Whittaker.

175 Wild Bill’s Trum Card. M or
DangerfieldB .  By 31

1 76 LadNaguar. By captainMark Wilton.
l 77 Don Diablo. By Col. Breaths lugs-sham.
1 78 Dark Dnshwood. By Major-Sam S. Hall.

179 Conrad the Convict. B Prof. Stewart
Guderslee‘ve, LL. 1)., y '

180 old ’49. By Joe. is; Badger,’Jr. ' »
181 The Scarlet Schooner.‘ ByPJngrahsm.

 

182 Hands Up! ByYWm. Rxllym. .
183 Gilbert. the Guide. By C. D. Clark.

1 84 The Ocean Vampire. By Col. Ingraham.
185 The Man Spider. By A. P. Morris.
186 The Black Bravo. By Buckskin Sam.

187 The Death‘s Head Culrassiers. By
Captain Frederick Whittaker.

188 The Phantom Machpa. By Major
Dangerfield Burr. ,

1 89 Wild 3111’! Gold Traih By Ingraham.

190 The Three Guardsmen. By Alex. Dumas

191 ’bi‘he Terrible Tonkaway. By Buckskin
am.

192 The Lightning Sport. By W. R. Eyster.
193 The lVIan in Red. By Capt. Whittaker.
194 Don Sombrero. By Capt. Mark Wilton.

195 The Lone Star Gambler. By Buckskin
Sam.

196 La Mariiioset, the Detective Queen. By
Albert W. Aiken.

197 Revolver Rob. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.

198 The Skeleton Schooner. By Celene]
Prentiss Ingraham.

199 Diamond Dick. By Buckskin Sam.
200 :3}: Ride Rangers. By Captain Mayne
‘1 .

201 The Pirate ofthc Placers.
E. Badger, Jr.
202 Cactus Jack. By Capt. Mark Wilton.
203 The Double Detective. By A. W. Aiken.
204 Big Foot Wallace. By Buckskin Sam.
205 The Gambler Pirate. By Col. Ingraham.
206 One Eye, the Cannoneer. By E. Whittaker.
207 Old Hard Head. By Philip S. Warne.
208 The White Chief. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
209 Buck Farley. By Edward Willett.
210 Buccaneer Bess. By 001. P. mgr-sham.
211 The Unknown Sport. By F.Whittaker,
212 The Brazos Tigers. By Buckskin Sam.
213 The War Trail. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
214 The Two Cool Sports. By W. B. Eyster.
215 Parson .1 1m. By Captain F. Whittaker.
216 The Corsair Planter. By P. Ingraham.
217 'Srahe Serpent of El Paso. By Buckskin
in.

By J osepb

218  \Vild Huntress. By Capt. Mayne
219 The Scorpion Brothers. By Captain
Mark Wilton. ' ‘

220 The Specter Yacht. By Col. Ingraham.
221 Desperate Duke. By Buckskin Sam.
222 Bill, the Blizzard. By Edward Willett.
223 Canyon Dave. By Captain Mark Wilton.
224 Black Beard. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
225 Rocky Mountain A]. By Buckskin Sam.
226 The Mad Hussars. By Capt. Whittaker.
227 Buckshot Den. By Capt. Mark Wilton.
228 The Maroon. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
229 Captain Cutsleeve. By Wm. R. Eyster.
230 The Flying Dutchman of 1880. By
Capt. Frederick Whittaker. -
231 The Kid Glove Miner or The Magic
Doctor'ot Golden Gulch. By 1. B. Ingrahani.
232 Orson 0xx the Man of Iron. By Isaac
Hawks, Eli-Detective.
233 The Old Boy of Tombstone; or,
Wagering a. Life on a. Card. By J. E. Badger.
234 guilt? Hunters, Feast. By Captain Mayne

235 Red 1.1 htnin the ManoiCh . B
Colonel Pigentiss lug-alien 'mce y

236 Champion Sam. ByCol. '1‘. H. Monstery.

237 Long-Haired Max¥ or The Black League
of the Coast. By Capta n ark Wilton.

238 Bank Hound, the New Orleans Detective
By A. P. Morris. ' '

239 The Terrible Trio. ByBuckskin Sam.

240 A Cool Head; or./Orson OninPerll. By
Isaac Hawks, nix-Detective.

241 Spitfire Sun] King 0! the hustlers. By

Jos. E. Badger. r.

42 The F0 Devil: or The Ski r In;
2 Flash. Bngapt. Fred. Whittaker. p pe ° 9

243 'm0 Pilgrim 31"“. of l ‘
Sweetheart. Byfiunalo$in i The Sodiers

244 Merciless Mart, m MAN-TIGER. or Mis-

sonar. By Buckskin 892m.

245 Barranca Bill was Rm, Cannon
By Captain Mark drum. “n - ‘

246 Mountain Matt' run" on or 1481‘
Owen Cm. By ward Wihx'efit.

247 ueéu 1 Alumni cam 0m
3 sn. nyfii°flfimm

A m tum wary coach, ‘
Deadle’s Dime Library is for sale by an

:Newsdeslers, ten cents per 0013!. 01" sent by mail on

receipt at twelve cents each. BEADLE a Annie.
Publishers, 98 William Street. New York.