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VOL  WedM‘dW 93 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y., December 3. 1884. $5.00 a Year. N 0' 319

   
CHAPTER I.
rm: DEATH-CAMP IN THE snow.

SILENTLY, beautifully. the snow ﬂoated down,
casting over the earth its downy covering, hid-
ing bleak hill-tops. ragged rocks and lightning-
blasted trees, and making forests appear like
one vast cemetery of towering monuments.

But oh, how pitilessly it fell l—merciless in i 
cold, though ever so beautiful to look upon.

Night coming on. and, with the dying of the
day a ﬂtl’ul, chilling wind arising, to keen to
the heart those who had to face its blast.

Amid a few straggling trees, with here and
there a huge rock affording shelter, was an en-
campment, with one ﬁre struggling to throw
out warmth to the one person who crouched
close to it, shivering with cold, and a face that
showed how hard suffering and hunger had
clung to her, {or it was a woman .’

A woman, in that far-away land of the West,
bent over a miserable camp-ﬁre, while about
“You an: in can!" In mourn 1‘0le can: THE car, as ern BILL arm ms her were the forms of those who had shared her

HORSE can: FLYING Faou rm: CLIFF ABOVE. torture: and hardships until life’s chain had

 
2

Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West.

 
broken under the strain, and the spirit had sped
away from the fr02en casket.

Here and there lay seVeral forms, three in
all, and the snow coming down was covering
them with a shroud to hide them from the sight
of her whose eyes constantly fell upon them.

And one of these three was a woman, who,
starving and freezing, had laid down to die,
with others of that ilbomened band that had,
two weeks before, left the gold mines in the
Black Hills, to return to their homes with for-
tunes in yellow metal which they had- dug from
the yielding eartb.

Seven had started in all, and upon pack-
horses they had carried their treasure, led by a
guide who had warned than not to start in the
face of coming winter, which might break up-
on tbem at any moment.

But they could not wait in those wilds
through the long Arctic months, when they had
their fortunes secure, and urged the guide to
lead the way.

First their horses had broken down, and then,
in a blinding snow-storm, the guide had admit-
ted that he was lost, and days were passed in
wandering about the wilds where no human aid
could they hope to ﬁnd.

Clinging to their gold they had staggered
along with it upon their shoulders, unwilling to
give it up, and throwing food away for their
treasure.

One by one they had fallen by the wayside,
but, unburied by their comrades, the dead had
remained there, while the living toiled on, stag-
gering, suﬂering with cold and hunger, yet

 
clinging to their gold.

At last the spot was reached where the and
must come, and three persons toi'erm’i up in
the fire which the guide had built, but the fourth I
fell ere she reached it, and the second woman of 1
the band had become a victim to that dread, -
wild march through the hills.

The one woman remaining had tottered to her
side, as if to comfort her, while the two shiver-
ing men had smiled grimly and crowded closer
to the ﬁre.

Finding her dead, the woman returned to the
blazing logs, and there the three crouched in si-
lence and suffering, their packs of gold lying
near them, though scarce y thought of now,
when hun er was gnawing unmercifully at their
vitals, an cold was freezing the red blood in
their veins.

Ahead of them the guide had gone, built the
fire for their cam , and then gone on tosee if
no game could be ound, he had said.

“ Oh! will he never come!” groaned one of the
hungering wretches, and he turned his longing
eyes our the snow-clad landscape to search for
the coming guide.

Suddenly his eyes brightened and springing
to his feet with a wild cry he began to dance
about and sing in merriest humor, while he
shouted:

“He comes! the guide comes! and he is
weighted down with food.
“Hal hal hal He brings us delicious food 1"

But it was the vision of delirium, the dance
of madness, for no guide was in sight.

Still around the camp-fire the madman ca-
pered, until his wild humor fell upon the other
man who crouched there, and springing to his
feet in frenzy, he shouted:

“ Be still, fool, for I see no guide returning,
and you are mad."

“ Mad 1” shrieked the maniac.

“Yes, and your madness will turn our brains,
too; so be stilll”

The madman zed upon his comrade an in-
stant, like a wll beast (preparing to spring upon
his prey while his han dropped upon the knife
in his belt. ,

Seeing his motive the other drew a revolver,
and thus the two glared upon each other, while,
rendered indiﬂerent bv her own anguish, the
woman but crouched closer to the fire.

His madness rendering him reckless, the
crazed being whose freezing and starving body
had conjured up in his heated brain the vision
of hope and succor, uttered a wild cry and
sprung upon the one whom suﬂering had made
h s foe.

There was the click of a hammer, but no re-
port, and then came the death-blow, and one
man sunk down dead in his track while his
murderer threw away the knife and sit down
by the-fire. .

1‘“ You have killed him!” aaidthe woman in a
w I
He stared at her as though hardly compre-
hending her words.

Then he arose and walked over to his victim,
and said upon him an instant turned away,
and coke down upon the form of the poor wo-
man who had died just as they had reached the

“mate

31‘ ”I kill her, too!" he asked, hoarsoly.

o.

“ She was my wife, wps she not?’

as Y...”

He his hands slowly across his brow,
and t on bent over and brushing away the
snow from the upturned face, kissed the white]

 a long time he beat above that form, his

 
eyes ﬁxed upon those that would see him never5

/

more, while he kept brushing away the snow as x

“ The grave never held me, Clarice,” was the

it fell, and which mercifully seemed to Wish to ‘ grim reply.

place its white, feathery shroud over the dead
to hide it from view.

At last the hand rested upon the face, and the
man had no wer to raise it.

Then the
the lips, and the man dropped over upon his
side, the fifth victim of the little band of
seven.

And at the camp-ﬁre crouched the lone wo-
man, while the snow came down to cover up
the dead, and the wind went moaning through
the valley, as night came on, in chilling, ﬂtful
blasts.

“Oh God! will he neVer Come back with
food, and must I, too, die here?" groaned the
woman, raising her clasped hands pitifully

I

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above her head, as though imploring succlir‘
,‘ you shall know and feel.

from-the leaden skies that sent down the merci~
less snoiv upon her.

“I have come back; but I have no food for
you, Kate Courtney !"

The words fell in deep tones upon the ears of
the startled woman, and turning, she beheld the
tall, buckskin-clad form of the guide standing
within a few feet of her, and leaning u n his
riﬂe in a careless way, as though he ( readed
not the cold and hunger which had caused
others to die.

 
CHAPTER II.
THE TREACHEBOUS GUIDE.

 
“ THEN, alas! we are doomed!"

The words were uttered with the calmness of I
despair by the woman, while the guide stood by l
in Silence. 1

Then, as though realizing what she had to
suffer, and, through her death, the misery that 3
must fall upon one other, she sprung to | er feet I
in on agony of grief, while she cried in almost a
frenzy of desperation:

“ Doomed! no. no. it must not be that I shall
die here, and with that fortune of gold lying at
my feet, and which can never reach my Own
beautiful child for whom her father and my-
]selfdhave toiled for one long year in this wild
an .

“No, no, Colorado King, as men call you,
you must prove, you shall prove your boasted
skill as a guide and lead me from here to safety
with my treasure, for it is for my child, my
darling Clarice, that I speak.

“ Yes, take me, and that yellow dust, to my
darling, and then I will be willing to die, for
gold will buy her the luxury she deserves!”

A cold. grim smile came u on the face of the
man as the poor woman spo e, and in his eyes
wins a look in which dwelt not one atom of
P W.

He was a man of strangely attractive appea r-
ance, for his form was of perfect mold, his hight
bting over six feet, and his carriage dignified
and elegant.

He was clad in a suit of buckskin the fringed
leg ings being stuck in the tops of heavy boots,
an about his shoulders hung a blanket, serving
the place of a cloak, while the rim of his broad
sombrero was turned down so as to shield his
face from the driving snow.

Beneath his heavy hunting-coat of buckskin
was a belt of arms, and the riﬂe u n which he
leaned most gracefully was a inchester re-
pester.

The face of the man was cast in shadow b
the slouch hat, and the lower features were hi -
den by a dark-brown heard that fell to his waist,
while his hair was long and waving; but there
was not stamped upon his face the look of suf-
fering worn by the others, and his eyes wore
not the haggard look which dwelt in the wo-
man’s.

lo a deep, cold tone the guide spoke in answer
to the appeal of the woman:

“ You are doomed to die here, Clarice Carr."

“Hal you call me by.name, Colorado King!
the name I bore as a young girl i” cried the we-
man, in seeming] utter amazement at hearing
from the lips o the guide the name she ha
borne before her marriage, long years before.

“Yes, I call you by the name of Clarice Carr,
which was your name before you became the
wife of Carr Courtney, your cousin, now nearly
twenty years ago,” was the calm reply.

The woman sprung t0ward him, and, grasp-
ing his arm, looked into his face in a way that
seemed striving to recall every feature, and
bring back to her from the long-buried past one
whom she had known before.

But a look of disappointment swept over her
face. as she said, in a broken voice:

“Man, who are you?”

“ Colorado King, the Black Hills Guido, men
call me,” was the response.

“Ay, so men call ‘you; but what name was
yours when I knew gout—for well I know that
we have met before.

“I am one, Clarice Carr, who lovad you in
the long-ago, one whom you pledged to marry,
and then cast off for Carr Courtney.”

“Oh, Heaven, have mercyl Can the grave
give up its dead?”

With the words the woman dropped upon her
knees in the snow, and nervouslzrrring ng her
sands gazed into the face of t man bafOrs

or.

 
As though thinking aloud, the woman mut-

red:
“ Yes, he killed a man, was tried and sen-
tenced to death, and I believed that he had died

ead drooped, a groan broke from i on the gallows.”

“Yes, I did kill a man, one whom I hated,
and I was sentenced to die at the rope‘s end,
Clarice; but I escaped death on the gallows the
very night before the day upon which I was to
have been executed, though I took life again in
gaining my freedom.

“I was forced to ﬂy to this far-awayland,
else you never would have married Carr Court-
ney, for I had sworn to kill him before he should
call you wife.

“That was a long time ago, Clarice, yet I
have not forgotten my oath of vengeance, as

“I l>new your husband when he came West
two years ago. though he, believing me «had,
failed to recognize in the heavily bearded man
the beardless youth he had known in the long-
age.

“He told me of the loss of his wealth, and
how he had come West to hunt for gold.

“I professed f:iendship for him, led him to
the Black Hills, and then, while I could ﬁnd no
gold, his good luck clung to him, and he found a
mine in which he knew there was a fortune.

“Then he was taken sick, and began to fade
away, and I wrote the letter to you which
caused you to seek him here, as a dutiful wife
should.

“At last he died, and he left to you and his
child his gold, and I pledged him to guide you

'1 to the OVerland and see you safely started for

home “ith your treasure.
“But others, knowing of your intention to

‘ leave the mine, took advantage of my services

as guide, to go too, and, poor fools, they have
met their death, for a hundred lives should not
stand between me and my revenge."

"Oh, man! monster! what have you done?”
groaned the unhappy Woman.

“I will tell you what 1 have done, Clarice
Courtney.

“ I have eaten while you and the others have
starved; I have slept in comfort while you have
frozen, and pretending to have been lost. I have
led you far away from the beaten trail that I
mi ht see you all die, one by one, and your gold
fal into my hands.

“Ha! ha! ha! that is what I have done, and
more, it was I who caused your husband’s
death, for each dav I gave him the poison that
at last killed him!”

“Fiend inhuman! now I will have my re-
venge!”

The woman shrieked the words as she sprung
to her feet, from where she had been kneeling
in the snow, and drawing from her belt a small
knife, rushed upon the inhuman wretch who
had so coolly told her of his heinous crimes and
treachery.

The strong man caught the knife upon his

riﬂe-barrel, and then hurled her from him with
a. force that sent her reeling Over the dead body
of one of the unfortunate victims of his treach-
er .
'y‘ Back, woman, or I will be tempted to kill
you, and I refer that the cold shall be your
destroyer,” a said, as he saw her rising to her
feet to again renew the attack upon him.

“I will have your life, Kent Kingsley, or
force you to kill me," she cried, and again she
would have sprung upon him, but started
back with a wi d cry as a form suddenly glided
between her and the man, and a deep voice
said calmly:

“ Colorado King, I have the drop on you I”

CHAPI‘ER ill.
WILD BILL.

“ WILD BILL!” _

The name fairly burst from the lips of the
treacherous guide, as he started back, dropping
his riﬂe in the snow, and his hands falling list-
lesst to his side, as though momentarily un-
nerved. '

“Yes, Colorado King, and I have caught you
in a pretty piece of deviltry,” was the reply of
the intruder upon the scene, as he stood a few

aces from the guide, covering him with his
riﬂe, while the woman again dropped upon her
knees, and with clasped hands gazed upon the
man who had appeared like an apparition.

He was a man in form and dress almost the
counterpart of Colorado King, with grtut broad
shoulders, a massive chest, and limbs‘that were
sinewy and ﬁrm.

His face was a study for an artist, in the
maul beauty of its features, and the power
that welt in every lineament.

It was a face to ove. and yet one to dread, so
full was it of darin and steruness.

The eyes were ful of ﬁre yet, in spite of the
situation in which he suddenly’ofound himself,
there was a look of placidity a at him which
betrayed the cool man of nerve who could be a
giant at bay.

After the remark of Wild Bill, the two men '

stood facing each other in silence, while the
woman crouched down near them, acting in
an agony of suspense upon them, an the snow

I
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+4

 
 n... V

 
fell in great white ﬂakes, as though anxious to
enshroud the dead forms lying near wholly
from sight.

“ Wild Bill, this is no affair of yours, and I
shall hold on responsible for your interfer-
ence,” said lorado King, sternly, feeling that
he had to speak and break the death-like, pain-
ful silence there in that driving snOW-storm.

“Colorado King, I have long suspected that

’ you Were crooked, but could not prove my sus—
picions. . _ _

“ Now I ﬁnd you alone in this Wilderness,
threatening a woman, and With the dead bod-
ies of her friends lying almost at your feet.

“ Have you killed them, I ask?”

“ How dare you ask me such a question, Wild

- Bill Hickok l”

“I ask the question because appearances are
against you, and I‘ shall expect an answer.

“ I took your trail in the snow, and Wonder-
ing what could have broug ht you away up here,
determined to follow and ﬁnd out just who and
what vour party was.

“1 ﬁnd your camp, and in it those who may
have died by your hand, and again I ask you,
did on kill those people, Colorado King?”

“ did not kill them,” was the angry response
of the guide.

“0h, sir, do not believe him, for, though he
did not shoot them down, or drive a knife to
their hearts, he led us into these wilds. told us
that he had lost his way, and freezing and
starving, he had ke t us wandering about until
human nature coul stand no more, and I alone
remain.

“Look upon those haggard, suffering, pinch-
ed faces," and the woman sprung quickly to the
dead bodies and brushed away the snow from
them.

Then she turned her own face toward Wild
Bill and continued, speaking in the same rapid,
earnest manner:

“ And see h0w white.and haggard I am, while
that man’s face has upon it the glow of health,
his eyes are not sunken, his form is not wasted,
for he has secretly eaten food, when we were
starving, and I alone now live, but God knows
my strength is gone at last."

Again she sunk down, and Wild Bill made
a step toward her, while he said in a kindly
tone:

“My poor woman, you have indeed suffered
at the hands of this man; but you shall have
food, I will build for you a shelter, to protect
you from the storm, and you will live to see
that man hang for his crime, for he is no more
lost than I am in these bills, and yonder saddle-
packs of gold tell why he has led you and your

riends to death.”

“ Look out!"

The woman shrieked the words, and springing
to her feet rushed forward, as though to shield
her protector from the ide, who had taken
advantage of Wild Bill’s interest in the woman
to suddenly cover him with his revolver, while
he hissed forth:

“ Now, Wild Bill, I have the drop on you.”

Under other circumstances Wild Bill would
have taken the chances of a death-shot and
struggle, but now, seeing the woman totter and
tell, he unheeded his own danger and jumped
quickly to her side, catching her in his strong
arms, just as her long hair swept the snow.

“My poor woman, I must at once give you
food and care for you,” he said, quickly.

A spasm crossed the face of the woman, and
for an instant Wild Bill believed that she was
dying; but then she said softly:

“ It is too late."

“ No, no, I will rebuild the fire, and—”

“No, Itell you it is too late for warmth and
food to help me now, for I am dying.”

“I trust not sincerely.’

“I know it, I feel it. and I leave to you a sa-
cred duty to rform."

“ I will do all for you that I can.”

“I know that you will, for I hava heard men
speak of you as one who never broke his word
to friend or foe, one who has a noble heart, in
spite of the wild life you lead, and I Will trust

on.
y “Do on see thou packs of gold therel" and
she mot oned with her eyes toward the snow-
eOVered pack-saddles.

“ Yes.

“All are mine but three, and they belonged
to those dead there, the victims of that man.

“ M poor husband, whom that man poisoned,
as he ut now confessed to me dug the treasure
out of. thesehills, and I was hearing it back to
my child, and to her I leave it all.

‘Tell her that her father died in the gold-
mines of the Black Hills; tell her that her
mother perished in a storm, while coming back
to her, and hid her be happy with her inheri-
tanoo.

“Here you will ﬁnd her name and address,
and now give me your word that you will do
as I, a dy n3 woman, ask you!"

as in his hands a small leather wallet

which she had drawn trons her bosom, and,

ing her hand, Wild Bill said, in a deep,
istinct voice:

“80 help me Heaven, I will does you request

and if I break the pledge I make you, may God,

i be merciless to me!"

I

__W m 331112. tMPEﬂYIEE

Of Th0 “Trst, 3

 
833nm: shall you keep that pledge, Wild
i 1’

man, his revolVer held cOVering the former.

Now, as he hissed forth the words, he raised
his weapon, until the muzzle covered the head
of Wild Bill, and his ﬁnger quickly touched the
trigger. _

A ﬂash, report, and a wild shriek from the
woman mingled together, and Wild Bill sunk
down without a groan, a red current ﬂowing
from the wound in his head where the bullet
had cut its 0111?] way along.

CHAPTER 1V.
COLORADO KING'S rmmn.

“ NOW. Kate Courtney, i hold the winning
hand once more, for there lies your protector.
the invulnerable Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of
the West, as men call him, and you are again
at my mercy, and your gold is mine—do you
hear? Your gold, dug by your husband, my foe,
by leng months of toil, is mine.”

The man bent over the woman as he spoke,
gazing into her eyes with a ﬁendish look of
hatre and triumph blended.

She half-supported herself upon one hand,
which rested upon the broad breast of Wild Bill
and she looked into the taco of her cruel foe
with an expression that seemed dazed, as
though she could hardly take in the full mean-
ing of his words.

Seeing this, Colorado King went on in the

same meaning way:
. “That man’s pity for you, Kate Courtney,
cost him his life, for he should have let you die
ere he took the muzzle of his ride of! of my
heart.

“Men have said Wild Bill could not be killed,
and his numerous escapes have so led them to be-
lieve', but he has fallen. and by my hand, and
glad am I that his end has come, for I frankly
confess that I feared him.

“ Yes, feared him, and he is the only man that
ever caused me to dread him.”

“ Oh, man! inhuman wretch that you are,
what a punishment for your crimes will ou
have hereafter,” said Mrs. Courtney, in a ow
tone.

“ Bah! it is the present, that I look to, not the
hereafter, my dear Kate.

“ And with my revonge against you complete,
and with your gold, an the treasure of those
who were with you in this march, fatal for you
but triumphant for me, I will be arich man, and
far from these scenes will revel in my riches.”

“No! no! no! you will not rob my poor child
of her inheritance?" cried the woman, implor-
ingly, striving in vain to rise to her feet.

“ Certain] I shall.”

“ Ma 's curse rest upon you, Kent Kings-
ley, an this grayer for yourlife to be uccursed
comes from t e lips of a dying woman l”

She had risen to her knees as she uttered these
words in a most impressive manner, with one
hand pointed at the man before her, the other
raised toward Heaven, as though invoking Di-
vine aid.

In spite of his nerve, the man shuddered at
her bitter anathema, but said, in his cutting
tones:

“ Kate Courtney, what care I for your curses
so long as l have your gold?

“ Ay. and now I remember that your hus-
band, Carr Courtney, told me one night in his
cabin that he had already sent to his child half
of his diggings, so I will know where to get
more.

“Let me see: she is now about eighteen, I
should (judge, and what more natural than that
I shoul seek her out, tell her of the sad death
of her loved parents in my arms, and how I
bent own them until the lee , and to my guard-
iansgépI she was left. '

“ , this is a glorious thought, and if sheis
half as autiful as on were, to, when of her
age, then I may make her my wife and thus get
her fortune.

“Hal ha! what think you of this, Kate
Courtney i”

He fa rly started back as the woman sprung
toltlifr feet, with a look in her face that was ap-
P' “8- .

Two steps she made toward him, her defense-
less hands extended as though to grapple with
him in a despairing death-struggle, and then
with a shriek that severed the ye heart-strings
that held the flickering flame of l fe to her worn
body, she fell her length in the snow prone upon
her face.

Stepping toward her, the man bent over and
lightly fel the slender wrist.

‘Dead 1”

He uttered the word In a low, hoarse voice,
for even he felt crushed by ilt.

“ And this is lyour end, ate Courtney!

" Well, your ass has been my triumph, your
deiath my gain, and the fortune you have is
in no.

“ es, I need fear no robhe of in gold
now, with winter setting in, and will b do my
goldeacks in yonder heap of rocks, and return
4’ for them when the spring shall have come.

 
The words came savagely from the white, 
stern lips of Colorado King, the uide, who had 7
stood in silence, with baleful g are and angry I
brow, gazing upon'the scout and the dying wo- -

“ And you, Wild Bill, must remain here with
i the rest, for I dare not rob you of your arms,
as they are too well known.

“ Well, the falling snow will soon bury you,
and until the spring melts your icy covering,
your fate will not be known, and then, when
found, men will say that you perished in the
storm.

“ Ha! ha! the tide of my ill-fortune has
changed, and a bright future is before me.

“Ah! bow savagely the wind h0wls now, and
how heavily the snow comes down, warning me
to get back to the trail 1 know, for to remain
here will be death to me too.”

As he uttered the last words he went over to
the pack-saddles, loaded with precious metal,
and which had been carried by his starving,
freezing victims to that fatal death camp, and
hastily raisin them in his strong aims, he bore
them to a pile of rocks near by and dropped
them in a large crevice.

Having completed his work of hiding this ill-
omened gold, be cast a shuddering glance at the
woman‘s outline, for the snow had mercifully
screened her form from sight, and seizing his
riﬂe he strode rapidly away from the death-
camp where lay the victims of his hate and
greed for gold.

i

 
CHAPTER V.
THE wanWIND‘s FLIGHT.

“ Heavens above! there is lVild Bill!”

The speaker staggered backward as though
he had seen a. ghost, and clutched at the door-
way which he was just about to enter for sup-
port, while, though the air was icy without,
great beads of Sweat ﬂecked his forehead, as
though his brain and heart were on ﬁre.

-The scene was a frontier post in Dwkota, and
the soldiers, settlers, trap ere, hunters and
miners there assembled, and) passing the long
months of winter, made the camps a busy vii-
lage. of cabins, tents and stables.

Commanding the post was Colonel Danger~
ﬁeld Burr, a distinguished cavalry ofﬁcer, who
was forced to rule with a rod of iron the wild
and reckless spirits under him or have his camps
a scene of constant confusion and carnage, for
there were desperate men dwelling there,
miners awaiting the coming of spring to in-
vade the Black Hills in search of gold, fugi-
tives from justice, ready to better their fortunes
by the robbery of others, and hangers-on of all
border forts, ever ready to draw a weapon upon
the slightest provocation and make deadly use
of it

It was into the head—quarters of Colonel Burr
that the man was going, when he started back
and gave utterance to the words that open this
chapter.

He had been sent off on a scouting outlook by
the commandant, and had returned just as
night came on, to report that the snow was not
sufﬁciently melted to make an expedition far
from camp possible.

Passin the outer door he had glanced into a
cheeriiy-i hted room, where sat Colonel Burr
before a b esing log ﬁre, to suddenly start back
as his eyes fell upon a man leaning against the
mantle.

It was a man of large stature and imposing
appearance, notwithstanding the fact that he
was clad in the skins of wild beasts, and had
hanging from his broad shoulders a large bear~
robe. ‘

The man, who had instantly recognized in this
skin-clad individual Wild Bill, the Whirlwind
of the West, had hastily closed the door and
stepped back into the hallway of the cabin
head-quarters, unseen by either the colonel or
his visitor.

“ Yes, it is Wild Bill, for there is no mistak~
in that splendid form of his, clad as it is like a
w Id beast; and that stem face, in spite of the
rough growth of heard, I know but too Well.

“ But, in God’s name, how comes be here,
when I belieVed him lving beneath the winter
snows up in the Black Hills!

“ Great God! am I to be thwarted at last,
just as the snows are melting to give me my
treasure?

“ He! the colonel is listening to his story, and
if I stay here I am doomed.

“ Ay, the morning sun will see me strung up
to a tree in the fort parade-ground.

“1 will be off, but not alone, for I will
force those whose Secrets I hold to accompaiv
me. ,

The man turned quickly away and left the
head-quarters cabin, wend ng his way toward a
instant part of the post, where were a group of
o uts.

ere dwelt the ruder characters of the camps,
the untamed bordermen who were as hard to
manage as a mans rie of wild beasts.

In the larger cab n of the group were gathered
a motley throng, gambling, chatting, smoking
and drinking.

In fact, it was what Colonel Burr had cor-
rectly named “ Pandemonium Hall,” and a
Babel of voices, oaths and song greeted the man
who entered in such haste. '

“ Hello, Colorado King! has you seen a
ghost!" cried one. »

 
“You is pale as a yaller tiger-lily," said an-~
other.

 
4 Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. ﬂ

 
“Yes, I have seen a ghost,” said Colorado
Kin , abruptly cutting oi! the remarks he knew
wou d follow, and he added quickly, addressing
diﬂerent individuals by name:

"I want you, Slugger Sam, and you, Dead
Beat Dick, to get two pards each and come with
me at once.”

“Whatl yer hain’t oin’ scouting in the face
of a snowstorm, par for there is ice in ther
air?” said the burly fellow addressed as Slugger
Sam.

“1 am going scouting, Sam, and in the face
of a snowstorm, and you will ﬁnd it safer to go
with me than to remain here.”

The last remark was in a low tone, and de-
livered in so signiﬁcant a manner that Slugger
Sam at once sprung to his feet well know ng
that Colorado King’s pale face indicated trouble
of some (168 erate nature on hand.

As the guide and his two confederates left the
cabin, the man who answered to the suggestive
cognomen of Dead Beat Dick asked:

“ What’s up, pard?”

“ The colonel knows that the six supposed In-
dians who attacked the Government supply-
train last fall were men from this post, and so
you must be 08 with me at once if you wish to
save your lives.”

“Jewilikins! does you mean it?” cried Dick.

it I do.”

“ It is bad fer us. Colorado King, for death
stares us in the face to go into these mountains
now " returned Slugger Sam.

“ ell, stay here and hang then, but I go,”
was the angry reply.

“Ohl do you goi’ both asked together.

It Yes.”

“What has the colonel got ag’in’ on, for on
wasn’t in that leetle Injun-disguise usinessi ’

“ He thinks I planned it, and if you aregoing
with me, you have no time to lose."

“I’m going with you, pard."

“ And me, too.”

“ Then get your comrades, and meet me at
the south gate. ’

“0n horseback?"

“Of course, and get together all the pro-
visions you can, thou h if we do not get of!
within half an hour well be lost."

So saying, Colorado King turned abruptly
awe and sought his own cabin, where he
hastily gathered together what things he could
take with him. and in a quarter of an hour was
at the appointed rendezvous.

One by one the others joined him there until
all had arrived, and seven in number they rode
out of the fort, the sentinel on duty there tell-
ing them it was a bad night to go out upon a
scout. for a snow-storm was threatening.

“Which way, cap’ni" asked Slugger Sam, as
they left the fort behind them.

“ To Lost Canyon, until this snow-storm is
over,” was the reply.

“And then?”

“ And then I intend to road-agent on the
gold trails to the Black Hills and make a for-
tune for all who join me,” was the stern re-
joindel'.

Not a word of response was made to this bold
declaration of outlawry though the men, reck-
less as they were, started at the daring words.

And on in silence through the snow the
went, Colorado King leading, and his brain f l
of bitter thoughts and darin schemes.

Not one other of that ban could have guided
the party in safety through the snow-covered
trails and darkness; but unerrin ly Colorado
Kingled them on, and at last halt at the head
of a small can on.

“ Place the orses in yonder thicket and here
we camp,” ordered the or, and a tire of logs
was u ckly built under the shelter of a cliff,
and t a men crouched around it for warmth,
while the winds swe t above their heads.

And thus the nig t passed away, and the
dawn ushered in a snow-storm which rendered
it impossible for them to move on their trail to
safer quarters.

In loomy silence they ate their breakfast,
and than crouched closer to the ﬁre, for the
snow was descending in blinding masses, and a
da of discomfort was before them.

uddenly they started, for the beard dis-
tinctly a sound above the cliff, as t ough a man
had spoken in angry tones.

Then the sky was darkened above their heads,
and in mid-air was seen a horse and rider, com-
ing strai ht down into an immense'snow-drift
at one si e of their camp.

The horse was black as night. and had taken
the leap in splendid st in, while his rider sat
upright in the saddle, is cloak ends thrown
back over his shoulders, the reins about his neck,
and holding in each hand a revolver which be-
gan to ﬂash as man and beast descended.

In horror the outlaws started up while there
came ringing in their ears the words of doom to
them:

“Hands up, men! You are my game!”

In trumpet tones came the ca,“ Wild Bill
and his horse came ﬂying from o cliﬂ above.

CHAPTER“
aros'ro sun

moon.
Tum are many men in this world who seem -
V

to bear charmed l es, for peril of all kinds they

 
‘5 through where others fall by accident, as
were.

More reckless, and the most conspicuous in
daring, leaders of forlorn-hopes in battle, yet
they pass unscathed through tire and death-
scenes, while others drop by their side to die.

Such a man was Wild Bill, and though in the
end he came to an untimely death at the hand
of an assassin, he had escaped from boyhood so
many dangers, passed through hundreds of
deadly combats unhurt, and when, at times
proven vulnerable by fearful wounds, had
“dodged Death," so to speak, and recovered,
that men called him invulnerable.

Certain it seemed, when shot down by the
hand of Colorado King as he was, that Wild
Bill‘s career had then and there ended in those
wild hills, and amid that driving snow—storm.

And yet the bullet from the assassin’s revol-
ver, though unerringly aimed, had not pene-
trated the massive head to the seat oflife, but
glancing along the skull had cut its way through
the scalp and continued its ﬂight.

The shock, however, had dropped the strong
man like dead, stunnin him into an uncon-
sciousness that seemed ﬁke death, and was so
near akin to it that it deceived the treacherous

uide, who gloated over the fact of having
Eilled one whom he feared, and who, he knew
well, had never liked him.

Having hidden his gold and gone rapidly
away from the death-camp, anxious that the
gathering gloom should not ﬁnd him within
sight of those he had slain, Colorado King had
made his way toward the trail which he knew
well he could follow in spite of the snow-storm,
and little dreamed that one whom he had left
prone upon the ground had shaken the white
masses from him and risen to a sitting posture.

That one was Wild Bill.

He looked about in a strange way, feeling be-
fore him and about him. as though in darkness,
and then allowin his hand to rest upon the
wound on his heatﬁ

“ I heard voices and one was speaking, whose
tones 1 can never orget—ay, and his words, too,
shall be remembered, for they were threats
against a dying woman.

“ Ahl m eyesight is returning, though I
feel strange y dizzy.”

He passed his hands across his forehead slowly
for a while, and then pressing some snow upon
his wound, bound his handkerchief over it.

Then, with an effort, be arena to his feet and
staggered like a drunken man to a tree near by,
where he leaned for support.

Missing his riﬂe be searched for it, and smiled
rimly as he shook the snow from its glittering
arre .

Leaning once more against the tree, he lanc-
ed over the desolate camp, watching the re as
it died away under the falling ﬂakes.

“ Hal the gold-packs are gone!”

He uttered the words quickly, as his eyes fell
upon the spot where they had been, and then in
a dazed way he said:

“ It seems to me that I heard him talk of hid-
ing the gold until spring.

‘ Indeed, he could not carry it all with him,
were the trails not incumbered with snow, with-
out the aid of a horse.

“Yes, there oes his trail toward the valley,
and he will ma 0 his way to the fort with all

dispatch.

“ Ay, and those tracks are where he carried
the gold-packs to a hiding-place in yonder
rocks. I

“I am in luck, for bad I remained uncon-
scious much longer, or darkness come on, I
would have found no trace of where he had
hidden the riches of those poor people whom be
murdered.”

Still sta gering, as though his brain reeled, he
wentto t e s t where he had last seen the
gold-packs, an then followed the tracks of Col-
orado King to their hiding- lace in the rocks.

Hardly had he discovere the secret the guide
had hoped was his alone, when he heard a sound
which at once riveted his attention.

His practiced earstold him that the sound
was a horse, struggling at his greatest speed
through the snow, and hardly had he come to
this conclusion, when an animal dashed into
view, urged hard by his rider.

It was an Indian pony, beautifully spotted
with white and black, with a tail of intense
blackness. and a mane that was as spotless as
the snow through which it made its way.

That the animal was tired out was evident,

for it ran with every indication of distress, yet,

was kept to its hard pace by its rider, whose

quick glances behind showed that ﬂight was an

im rative duty to escape more dead y danger.
ad that rider was an Indian girl.

Young, slenderly formed, and strangel y beau-
tiful for one of her race, she sat upon er ﬂying
pong her long raven hair ﬂoating far out be-

iu her, and one hand gras inga bow and a
single arrow. the last from er quiver, which
hung empty by her side.

As she drew near the rocks, amid which Wild
Bill crouched, she glanced again over her shoul-
der, and uttered a startled cry to her pony, as
her e es fell upon her pursuers dash ng into
sight rom a thicket not a hundred yards away.

‘That is a Blackfoot girl chased by Sioux,”

 
‘ r ...- ﬂ

muttered Wild Bill. as he saw a chief and four
warriors come in view, and urge their horses
hard in chase.

“ Both tribes are my foes, but I take sides
with the girl every time for those red devils
are gaining rapidly,” said the scout, and he
brought his Winchester riﬂe around ready for
use.
“I’m half-blind, and as dizzy as a drunken
man, but I guess the old gun will ﬁnd a Sioux
heart,” he muttered, just as the Indian irl
swe t by within a few yards of him, and, in or
anxiety to escape from the foes of her people,
unnoticing the white man, or the tracks about
the death-cam .

But, hardlygad she gone by, when she was
startled by a ringing war-cry, which awoke the
echoes of the hills and rocks far and wide, and
at the same instant she beheld the tall form
of Wild Bill spring from his covert and throw
his riﬂe to his shoulder, the brave man dis-
gaiging to ﬁre upon his enemies from an am-

us .

At the ﬁrst crack of his riﬂe the Sioux chief
fell from his horse, and in quick succession two
of his warriors also went down. while there-
maining two turned, in wild alarm. to ﬂy.

But down went a mustang under a fourth
shot, and a ﬁfth emptied the saddle of the last
Indian rider.

Hardly had the fifth shot been ﬁred when like
a ﬂash 9. horse and rider went by Wild Bill and
charged directly upon the Sioux.

It was the Blackfoot girl, and she had her last
arrow fitted to her how, and drawn hard back,
as she rode down upon the warrior whose pony
the scout had killed.

With a defiant war-cry the Sioux warrior
had extricated himself from his fallen horse,
and arose to face his foes, a riﬂe in his grasp.

“ Back, girl l” cried Wild Bill, seeing the in-
tention of the brave girl to attack her foe, and
starting forward to see if he could get another
shot at the warrior.

But, as he called out to her, there came the
report of the red skin's riﬂe, and Wild Bill saw
her reel in her saddle.

But her arrow had left the how an instant
before the crack of the riﬂe, and with a death-
cry upon his lips the warrior fell backward, the
dart buried in his breast.

“ Bravo, girl! you are a game one,” cried
Wild Bill. ad vancing, as the red-skin girl sprung
to the ground and quickly secured the scalp of
her fallen enemy, and, then turned upon the
scout as be advanced, not knowing whether he
was to be received by her as friend or foe.

CHAPTER VII.
Run STAR, THE GIRL QUEEN or m Bucmrz'r.

THE presence of a pale-face in that locality
had certainly been a great surprise to the In-
dian girl, and she had almost fitted her arrow
to her how, to turn it upon Wild Bill, expecting
certainly to ﬁnd but another foe in him, when
she discovered him to be the enemy of her pur-
suers, if not her friend.

His rapid ﬂring, his unerrin and deadly aim.
added to the fearless manner I: which he had
faced such tremendous odds, won her admira-
tion, and she had instantly returned to his aid,
determined not to ﬂy and leave another to face
the .ril alone.

hen she had secured her red trophy, she
turned to face Wild Bill, standing in a half~shy
manner, as though not knowing how he would
meet her.

But he walked boldly up to her and said, as
he seemed to recognize her:

“ You are Red Star, the Blackfeet‘s Girl
Queen, are you not!"

“ The pole—face chief speaks true.

“ I am Red Star,” she answered, sim ly.

“How is it I ﬁnd the Red Star so gar from
the village of her peeplef”

“ The Red Star went on the chase and became
separated from her braves.

“Then the Sioux warriors saw her, and she
would hava been taken a captive to their vil~
lage had not the ale-face chief saved her life.

“But the wh to chief looks ill, and he is
wounded,” and she started toward him as Wild
Bill tottered with dizziness.

“I am ill, and hurt, too, Red Star; but so
are you wounded,” and he pointed to a wound
upon her shapely arm.

“It is the mark of the Sioux warrior’s bul-
let.

“But come, let the Red Star take the white
chief to her people, for they will be his friends
now, and the medicine-man of the tribe will
care for him.” i

“I have half a mind to go, girl, for if I stay
leer: I shall die, as I am in a bad way with my

ea .

“I will catch one of those ponies coder.”
and Wild Bill passed his hand continual y across
his forehead, as though to clear from h s brain
the clouds that seemed to oppress him.

“ The Red Star will catch the ponies.

“ Let the white chief wait here,” said the I u-
dian girl. speakin in and English.

Mechanically ild ill obs ed, and-soon the
red-akin maiden bed can t t e four ponies of
the Sioux, at the same i me quietly taking the
scalps of their riders.

 
,__ , .ﬂ-..” ,......,

Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. 5

 
“Let the white chief mount, and Red Star
will lead the way to her village, which isfar
away toward the setting sun.”

Wild Bill, with an eﬂort, got upon the hack
of one of the ponies, and mounting her own ani-
mal and leading the others, Red Star set of! for
the village of her tribe.

Before long night came on, and all about
them was storm and desolation; but either the

I Indian girl or her pony held instinctively on the
’ course, and in silence Wild Bill followed.

At length the animal ridden by the scout gave
a sudden spring forward, and Red Star saw
that he was rider-less.

Quickly she dismounted and found Wild Bill
lying in a heap in the snow.

But she was not one to desert him in his sick-
ness, and quickly she dragged him to the shelter
of a huge bowlder, and in a few minutes had
kindled a small ﬁre.

By its light she was enabled to gather logs
near b , and soon the tire was blazing cheerily,
while nits warmth lay the strong form of the
scout tossing in delirium.

With the knife taken from Wild Bill’s belt
Red St .r quickly cut some branches of pine and
built for him as good a shelter as she was able,
and then she set to work to scours his hands
and feet, so that he could neither wander away
to perish in the snow, or do injury to himself.

Leaving the Indian ponies hitched to the
trees near by, she then mounted her own horse
and rode away in the darkness as rapidly as the
storm and the depth of the snow would admit.

Groaning and tossing in delirium Wild Bill
lay by the blazing ﬁre, vainly striving to free
himself from his bonds.

And thus one, two, three hours went by, and
the gray dawn came.

But still the snout-storm raged on. still the
wounded man raved and writhed in fever.

At last, through the falling flakes, appeared a
linu of horsemen approaching.

Nearer they came, and were seen to be In-
dions.

There were a dozen of them in all, and at
their head rode Red Star, the Girl Queen of the
Blackfeet.

She had changed her pony, however, for a
fresh one, and had brought from her village
these warriors to aid a paleface foe.

The ﬁre had burned low, but the heat of fever
kept the wounded man from suffering with cold,
and his dark-blue eyes were turned upon the
red-skins with ﬂashing glances as they came up.

In a few words the Indian girl gave her or-
ders, and two long poles were fastened to a
pony, robes were stretched across these, and
upon them Wild Bill was placed and bound se-
curely, so that he could not throw himse:f off.

Then Red Star threw blankets over him. and
carrying his riﬂe and belt of arms herself, the
party started on the trail they had come.

It was a desperate struggle for life, for the
red skin girl and her gallant band of braves, to
make their way back through that driving
storm of snow; but on they pressed, suffering
intensely, worn out, and almost despairing. yet
with no warrior daring to give up and refuse to
follow where a girl led.

At last they reached the summit of a ridge.
and the eyes of the devoted band fell upon their
village in the valley below.

Adown the steep hillsides they went, and
then, amid the wild yells of triumph of their
tribe, they reached safet at last, and a wel-
come was given to the wh to foe, who had saved
their Girl Queen from a cruel captivity, and
was even then himself hovering upon the bor-
derland between life and death.

CHAPTER VIII.
m soou'r’s moan.

TH) long. dreary winter at Camp Comfort
Post was near its ending, and oﬁlcers and men,
miners and idlers, were congratulating them-
selves that soon the chill winds would give way
to balmy breezes and the ﬂowers and green
grass sprin u w are the snow had been.

To learn f t was safe to venture forth. Colo-
nel Dangerﬁeld Burr had sent Colorado King,
the best posted man in those wilds, out upon an
inspecting-tour, and after a day spent in the
hil s, the guide had struck a trai leading to the
fort.

Quickly he had followed it, wondering what
bold man had ventured to seek the fort while
the hills and valleys were yet covered with
snow.

It was the trail of a single horse, and as the
animal was unshod, Colorado King thought that
it might be some daring scout from the Black-
foot or Sioux villages, endeavoring to see if the
soldiers at the garrison were preparing to move
upon a spring campaign.

It was just twilight when the guide followed
the trail up to the log walls of the fort, and see-
ing that it led on into the fort he knew that it
could not he the trail of an Indian.

The sentinel at the fate had not come on
duty, socould not tell h in who he entered,and
putti n his horse Colorado King had sought
the co .nel‘s quarters with considerable curios-
ity to know who ws the daring man that had
accomplished the perilous journey through the
snow-clad hills in safety.

 
His amazement and horror at the discovery of
who it was the reader already knows, and his
ﬂight to save his neck from the gallows, when
he beheld in the colonel’s quarters one whom he
believed and ho ed was dead, and one whom be
well knew coul cause him to lose his life at the
re ’s end.

eated alone in his comfortable quarters. gaz-
ing into the blazing ﬁre of logs. the handsome
commandant of Comfort Camp Post was lost in
thought.

So deep were his reveries that he failed to hear
a step behind him, and started when he beheld
a tall form, clad in wolf and bear-skins, stand-
ing by his side.

“I fear I startled you, Colonel Burr,” said. the
intruder, uietly.

“Great od! you here, Wild Bill? I believed
you in your gravo long months ago,” cried Col—
onel Burr, springing to his f8tt and stretching
Lorth his hand to grasp that of the man before

im.

“No, colonel, but it is only by the good luck
that usually is my lot, that I am not dead,” an-
Swered Wild Bill, returning the grasp of the
colonel’s hand, and throwing aside his panther-
skin cap.

“You look hardy and strong, Bill, and I am
most happy to welcome you, I assure you, for I
have often upbraided myself for al10wing you to
go into the hills on that scout, when winter was
threatening to break upon us at any moment.

“Thank God you are back again insafety,”
warmly said the oﬁlcer.

“ And thank God that I went sir; but if you
are at leisure I will tell you all. '

“ 0f comse I am at leisure, Hickok, and have
been for the whole winter, hemmed in here as
we have been: but how, in the name of good-
ness. did you get here?"

“ Came on the back of the ﬁnest piece of horse-
ﬁesh in the West, colonel, and the sentinel, I
was afraid, as I rode up, would take me for a
bear on horseback and ﬁre at me.”

“ He would never have hit you had he done
so, Bill, for soldiers are desperately bad shots,
as ou know.

‘ But I sent Colorado King out this morning,
with orders to scout around the fort and see if
an of the trails ware open, and I expect he
wi I be back tonight, or at any rate, to-mor-
row.”

“Colorado King is at the fort then, sir!" asked
Wild Bill.

“ Yes, or rather he is of! on a scout, as I told
you just n0w.”

“1’de he has been here all the winter, colo-
nel 2”

“ Yes, for how in the mischief, or rather the
snow, could he get away!

“He was cau ht out, as it was, in a storm,
and came in hal dead: but he has a constitution
of iron. and would. like you, Bill. laugh at
hardships that would kill most men.”

“Colonel Burr. I have a secret to tell you
about Colorado King,” said Wild Bill, leaning
his arm upon the mantle and gazing thought—
fully into the ﬁre.

“ Your manner indicates that it is something
serious, Hickok.”

“ It is so serious, sir, that of all the evil char-
acters I know upon the p‘ains, there is not one
upon whom I could lay a more serious charge
than that which I will make against the man
known as Colorado King.”

“ Why, Hickok, you astound me!" said the L
colonel. :

“ I never liked Colorado Kin , sir; but I as-
sure you I was myself astounde at what I dis-
covered him guilty of."

“Pra tell me. ill, at what you hint.”

“I w Il not hint, Colonel _Burr, but tell you
frank] that Colorado King, the Guide of the
Black ills, as men call him, is an assassin of
men and women—”

“ Hold, Wild Bill! Be sure you are right be-
fore you make so terrible an assertion," said
Colonel Burr, warmly.

“I repeat, air, and weigh well my words, that
Colorado King is an assassin of men and women
and a robber of his dead victims.”

“ Great God! can you speak the truth against
him, Hickok?" and Colonel Burr sprung to his
feet and paced the room excitedly.

H“ You shall be the judge, sir, when you hear
a .

“ You remember that I left the pOst, at your
request, to learn if the Indians were going into
their winter villages, or were preparing to move
south?"

“ Yes."

“ I discovered that both the Sioux and Black-
feet had gone to their winter villages in the
hills, and returning, 1 was caught in a snow-

, .

 
rm.’

“Yes, and I blamed in self for sending ycu
off at the time, and certa nly believed that you ‘
had been lost and perished, as did all at the
post, for Colorado King came in some days!
later, after suffering fearfully."

“ He was fortunate to reach the post. under
the circumstances, and few men could have
done so.

“ The snow-storm I encountered. sir. was at
ﬁrst light, and I cared little for it; but I struck
a trail that led further into the hills, and it

I

looked to me as if a party was lost and were
wandering aimlessly about.

“ Instantly I determined to follow it, and I
came upon two dead bodies that had perished.

“Leaving them unburied, I hastened on to
rescue the others, if in my power, and then it
was that I beheld a scene which 1 will remem-
ber to my dying day.”

Then, in a graphic way, Wild Bill told his
story of the scene at Death Camp, and what
had followed.

In breathless amazement the emcer listened,
only once interrupting him, and then to his
forth:

“Hickok, I will have that man hanged one
hour after he returns to this fort."

Then Wild Bill Went- on to relate his r; scue of
Red Star, the Girl Queen of the Blackfeet, and
how she had in return saved his life, taken him
to the village of her people, and placed him un-
der the care of the medicine-chief of the tribe,
and how for long weeks he had lingered, but at
last recovered his health and strength.

Until the ﬁrst thaw of the ice in the hills he
had remained in the Indian camp, and been
treated as their friend, and then, mounted u n
a superb black horse, given him by the
Star‘s father, the chief of the tribe, he had
started upon his return to the fort.

Colonel Burr heard his story with the deepest
interest. and then said:

“Hickok, I congratulate you upon your es-
cape from death, and I pledge you my word that
Colorado King shall die.

“ Orderly !”

At the call of the con mandaut an orderly ap-
peared at an inner door.

“ See if the guide. Colorado King, has return-
ed. and bid him come to me at once."

The orderly saluted and disappeared, but soon
returned with the report:

“The guide came back, sir, more than an
hour ago, and the sentinel said that he came to
your quarters.”

” Heaven! He saw you here, Hickok.

“ here is he now, orderly?”

“ He left the fort, sir, half an hour ago.”

“ Alone?"

“ No. sir.”

“Hal who went with him?"

“ Slugger Sam, Dead Beat Dick, and four
others, sir."

“Do you hear that, Hickokl He has gone
with the worst lot of rascals in the camp, and
with the start he has will escape me.”

“No. Colonel Burr, for I shall start at once,
and, as I see by the orderly‘s coat that it is
snowing, I will have no trouble in tracking
them. for these are moanilight nights now, an
it will be bright enough.”

“Bravo for you. Wild Bill! and you shall
have all the men you want to accompany you.”

"Thank ou, sir: and while they are getting
ready. I wi I throw of! this skin suit for another,
as it is too hot to work in,” and Wild Bill has-
tily departed for his old quarters. to return in
half an hour. dressed in his border attire of
hunting-jacket, leggings. the bottoms stuck in
high cavalry boots. a sombrero, and a heavy
cloak thrown over his shoulders.

He had also replaced his Indian-robe saddle
for an elegant one of the Mexican pattern, and
mounting in haste, rode out of the fort in the
blinding storm at the head of a demon brave
troopers.

 
CHAPTER IX.
ramo DESPERATE cantons.

LID by Wild Bill. the troopers knew that
there was work ahead for them to do.

They were well aware that Colorado King
was a dangerous man to triﬁe with.

What wrong he had been guilty of. only Wild
Bill and the colonel knew; but they had hard
the commandant’s last words, which meant

much:

“Bring him back olive, Hickok, if possible,
for to be shot like a soldier is too good a death
for him to die."

Slugger Sam, Dead Beat Dick. and others
of their ilk, who had gone with Colorado King,
were also to be feared, especially if brought to

v.

But then, with Wild Bill leading, the troopers
had little to fear, and they pressed on hand
through the storm and thickening anew. .

The moon was at its full, and though the
clouds were overcast, there was ample light to
follow the broken trail through the snow, but
which was being obliterated by the drift and
falling flakes.

With nnerring skill Wild Bill pressed on, rein-
ing his horse back now and then so as not to
leave the troopers too far behind.

But one by one the homes of the cavalrymen
dropped back, the men became benumbed with
cold, and the daring scout felt that he would
soon be alone on the trail.

To turn back for a larger force and better
horses would be to lose the trail alt ether. and
this it was not the nature of Wild B ll to do.

To force the soldiers to follow him would be
to perhaps cause some of them to lose their
lives, so he determined to act alone. and let cir-
cumstances as they happened master the situa.
tion for or against him.

i

 
EL

“Lieutenant Lockwood, I think you had bet-
ter put for the tort with your men, while the
trail is well broken and you can follow it, for
they have been cocped up in their quarters so
long they cannot stand the cold,” said Wild
Bill.

“They do suif--r greatly. Bill, and I do also,
though you do not seem to mind it,” answered
Harry LOckwood, the young officer, shivering
as he spoke, yet anxious to press on with the
scout.

“ Ah! I am accustomed to cold and hardships
of the worst kind; but I really feel anxious
about the men, so urge that you turn back, sir.”

“I will let the'sergeant go back with them,
while I go on with you, Bill, for I see it is your
intention to go it alone.”

“There is no man at the post, sir, I would
rather have with me than you; but you could
not stand the cold three hours longer, warmly
clad as you are.”

“ I would like to try it, Bill,” said the plucky
young oﬁicer.

Bill shook his head and answered:

"I know what it would end in, lieutenant.

“ No, sir, return to the fort, and I will press
on after Colorado King and his men.”

" But, Hickok, great as you are asa ﬁghter,
what can you do with seven men i”

“l’ll use strategy on them and make them
thigk I have a company of cavalry to back me
up.
“You had better ﬁnd out where they are
heading for and return to the fort for aid. ’

“ Well, sir, I’ll see,” and with a parting grasp
of the lieutenant’s hand, Wild Bill pressed on
alone on the trail, while thehalf—frozen troopers
were glad enough to turn back, well knowing
that they were of no use in their benumbed
condition and might lose their lives if forced to
Continue in the pursuit.

Once alone and Wild Bill rode at a more
rapid pace, his superb black, like himself, being
hardened by exposure, and going through the
snow-drifts with little difﬂcu ty.

After several hours spent n trailing. Wild
Bill came to a thicket of pines, and saw that the
trail wound down into a valley.

“I believe that the have hunted cover in
the Lost Valley, and f so I can head them off
without going round by the valley,”he mut-
tered, as be halted upon the trail.

Then, turning away from the track, he urged
his horse up the hills do. and soon found a shel-
tered nook, where he dismounted and secured
his horse, wholly out of reach of the sleet-laden
winds.

Goin on foot for a few hundred yards, he
reach a cliff overhangin a canyon, and can-
tiously glancing OVer bche d his game.

“I have not time to return to the fort for
help, for they will doubtless move early, so I
will make myself comfortable until dawn,” he
muttered, as he ietraced his weyto where he
had left his horse.

Selecting a spot free from snow, and wholly
sheltered by rocks, he gathered some wood and
soon had a cheerful ﬁre.

Throwing himself dawn before it on his
blankets, he began to think over the best plan
of action, and when daylight dawued he had
decided upon his course.

It was a desperate undertaking, but Wild Bill
had been in just as desperate deeds and escaped,
apd he would not ﬂinch from carrying out his

an.

p Eating his breakfast. and thoroughly warmed
by the ﬁre, be mounted his horse and rode down
toward the head of the canyon.

There he dismounted and on foot carefully
reconnoitered the camp of the band.

He had intended to demand their surrender
from the cliff, and shoot down those who re-
fused; but he wished to take Colorado King

alive, and he knew that he would not surrender,‘

so, observing the snow-drift, he made. up his
mind to s ring his horse over the cliff, shoot
several of be hand, and then call upon them to
surrender, making them believe that soldiers
were covering them with their carbines.

As soon as his mind was made up to this
course, be mounted his horse, threw he reins
over his neck, and drawing his revolvers headed
ata run directly for the cliff at a int where
he knew lay the deep snow-drift be ow.

Urged by tho spurs, the frightened animal
went over with a might bound. and seeing that
he was going to land al right in the snow-drift,
Wild Bill began to ﬁre 1) n the horriﬁed band.

At the ﬁrst shot Dead at Dick fell dead, and
a second brought down another of the band,

' who seemed paralyzed beyond all action by the
‘mrtling ﬂig t

“a of the horse and rider over the
c .
But down into the snow the animal went, and
maddened with fear, he bounded from it and
darted like an arrow down the canyon.

With his rev-ilvers in his hands, and the reins
about his neck, it was some time before Wild
Bill could draw the animal to a bait, and then

. the volley of riﬂe-shots that came ﬂying down

the canyon proved to him that the outlaws had
recovered from their surprise, and that it would
be madness for him to charge back upon them.
“ Ah, Black Diamond, you served mes shabby
trick that time in running away with me,” said

, .WilQ._B°

‘11, the Whirlwind of the West.

 
' Wild Bill to his horse, as he rode behind a. bend
in the canyon out of range.

"Now what is to be done?" he asked himself
in a way that. showed he was in a quandary.

For some moments he sat in silent thought,
and then said, half-aloud:

“I don’t believe that they can get out of the
head of the canyon on horseback, though they
may be able to do so.

“ I’ll just take a look and see.”

Leaving his horse in a secluded spot, Wild
Bill set of! on foot to ﬂank the position of the
outlaws and discowr what they were about.

Perhaps, if he could gain the cliff, he thought,
he might get them under cover of his riﬂe.

At any rate he would ﬁnd out.

But through the deep snow and in the blind-
ing storm, it was serious work to get along, and
so he found it, strong and hardened as he was.

At last after two hours of desperate strug-
gling, he gained a point that gave him a view
of the head of the canvon.

One glance was sufﬁcient to show him that
the canyon was deserted, and that the outlaws
had escaped.

 
CHAPTER X.
A swm FOR LIFE

As soon as Wild Bill made the discover that
his game had ﬂed, he sprung from the cli , over
which he had ridden, and landed in the snow-
heap where his horse had come down.

There, by the still burning camp-ﬁre, lay two
dead bodies, one with a bulletin his brain, the
other shot through the heart.

They were Dead Beat Dick and his unfortu-
nate comrade, who had been the victims of the
scout's unerring aim while he was in mid-air on
his downward ﬂight.

Their pockets had been riﬂed, and their arms
were gone, showing that their companions had
no desire to leave anything of value behind. and
thought not enough of the dead to even give
them a burial in the snow.

To his delight Wild Bill saw that the storm
was breaking away, and the sun promised to
soon come out with warmth enough to melt the

ice.

Following the train of the outlaws to the
thicket where their horses had been sheltered,
Wild Bill discovered how the escape had been
effected. -

The side of the canyon was verv steep, and
some ﬁfty feet in hight; but here and there grew
stunted trees, and to these lariats had been
made fast, and one by one the horses had been
half-carried, half-dragged to the top.

“ Colorado King evidently expected I had re-
inforcements below in the canyon, and took the
best wa to escaye.

“We , he ha to work for it, for as good a
climber as Black Diamond is, I could not get
him up there without the aid of several men.

“ Now to strike their trail and see which way
they have gone.”

ith some little dimculty, which demon-
strated the hard task the outlaws had had in
getting their horses up the hillside, Wild Bill
gained the summit and struck off on the trail.

“ If they turn to the right at Red Rock, they
are making for the Black Hermit’s Canyon, and
then I can head them off,” be hold.

A walk of a quarter of 'a mile, trudging
through the now melting snow, brought him to
Red Rock, which had received its name on ac-
count of its reddish hue.

“ To the right they go, and straight to Black
Hermit’s Canyon,” he cried, cheerily, and at
once he started upon the back trail.

Regaining his horse he was soon heading
down the canyon, and reaching the valley,
turned on a course which he knew would bring
him to the point he desired to reach.

But breaking his way through the snow-drifts
he seen found was too heavy work for his horse,
and that he could not reach Black Hermit Can-
yon before the outlaws.

So he turned short of! to the right, climbed
the hills, and soon struck the trail of the band.

“ Now, Diamond. you can go along better,
after seven horses have broken the way for you,
old fellow,” said Bill, glad to case his horse of
the terrible work.

As though be appreciated the favor done him,
the noble horse ressed on at aswinging pace,
but was soon rought to a halt, as his rider
caught sight of a second trail joining the one he
was following.

“Hello! this comes from the west, where the
Buckskin Bravos have their retreat.

“ Yes, and it was made b the Buckskin
Bravos, and they have united _ cross with Colo-
rado Kin .

“ This ooks bad—”

“ Surrender. Wild Bill, or die I”

Loud and clear came the startling summons,
and glancin a ward for the sound came from
above, Wildgiﬂ beheld a man, seated in a tree,
and covering him ‘with a riﬂe.

Quick as a ﬂash his revolver was drawn and
ﬁred; but the re rts rung out together as one
discharge, but w th diﬂerent results.

At the crack of the riﬂe Wild Bill’s left arm
dropped to his side useless, while his shot, sent
through the brain of his foe. brought him crash-
ing through the branches down to the ground.

 
“ Hands up, or dial”

“ Surrender, Wild Bill!"

“ Move, and you are a dead man!"

Such were the cries that rung out here and
there from the timber, and Wild Bill knew that
he had been caught in a desperate situation.

But he did not hesitate an instant upon Lis
course.

To turn back on the trail he saw would bring
him upon foes who had gained his rear.

To go forward would be to confront as many
more, and upon his right were others.

There was but one way of escape, and that
was to the left.

But then he knew in that direction lay the
river, and the spring thaw had doubtless broken
up the ice in it. .

Still it was his only chance, for, sheltered be-
hind trees, his foes were in every other direc-
tion.

Away then to the left he darted like an ar-
row, his horse bounding through the light snow
with terriﬁc leaps.

Shot after shot fol10wed him, yet the bulleta
ﬂew by without harm and his noble horse
quickly distanced pursuit.

But glancing back, as he neared the river,
Wild Bill beheld Colorado King and a dosen
others coming on in hot chase.

The allies of the fugitive guide he saw were
men of an outlaw band known as the Buckskin
Bravos, and who he was aware had their
haunts in that locality somewhere.

As he approached the river, to his regret he
found it swollen to a torrent, and ﬁlled with
cakes of ice that dashed furiously along.

Then, to his surprise, he beheld a 0g cabin
gopon its banks, and in front of it was a rude

at.

A glancc showed him that to escape by the
boat was to desert his horse, and this he would
not do, though it certainly looked like daring
death for both to ride into that ice-ﬁlled, foam
ing stream.

But behind him came his foes, stretched out
so as to throw a line across the small point upon
which he stood and cut him 011’ from escape
wholly by that way.

But with the utmost coolness he surveyed his
chances, and then, making a sling for his
wounded arm, he deliberately rode into the
rushing river, with the remark:

“ Come, Black Diamond, it’s a swim for life,
so don’t let Death win.”

With yells as they saw his daring act, the

ursuers rushed to the cabin, and Colorado

ing and four others hastily shoved the boat
into the stream and sprung in.

Two men quickly seized the four oars, one
stood up in the bows to push of! the ice with a
pole, while Colorado King and another were in
the stern, their revolwrs in their hands.

As he saw them coming rapidly in chase,
Wild Bill uickly wheeled about in his saddle,
facing to t a rear, while the horse swam boldly
on, and raising his revolver ﬁred.

At the shot the man in the bow dropped
down and hung over the gunwale, a hulle in
his heart.

A second shot to pied over the outlaw in the
stern by the side 0 Colorado King, who at once
sprung to his feet and began to ﬁre at Wild
Bill, while the wounded man at his feet
clutched wildly at his legs in the agonies of
death.

“Surrender, Wild Bill!” shouted Colorado
King, in a voice hoarse with passion.

But back came the deﬁant answer.

“Come on and take me, Colorado King, if
you like the sport!” __

CHAPTER XI.
savnb FOR REVENGE.

No greater peril could a man hope to sur-
mount than that which surrounded Wild Bill,
as his horse swam across the swollen, ice-ﬁlled
river with his wounded rider upon his back.

But thou h powerless to use his left arm, in
the midst o rushin blocks of ice which threat-
ened to overwhelm is noble horse and himself,
with his enemies in a boat coming in hot pur-
suit, Wild Bill’s nerve did not once desert him
nor his indomitable pluck on him in his hour oi
dire need.

Raising his revolver he had slain one man,
mortall wounded another, and could have
killed lorado King, but refrained from so do-
ing, urged by the very motive which prompted
the guide not to send a bullet through his ene-
my’s heart, and which motive was the hope of a
more beﬁtting revenge.

But Colorado King triﬂed too long. believing
that he must certainly overtake Wild Bill in the
river. and thus have him at his mercy, for the
scout’s next shot caused one of the oarsmsn to
throw up his arms with a loud cry of pain and
the other ceased rowing and threw himself down
in the bottom of the boat for shelter from an
aim that had provan so deadly.

“ Srise your oars. you coward !” shouted Colo.

rado King. frenzied at the act of the man which
left the boat at the mercv of the current.

But. the man feared Wild Bill more than he
did Colorado King, and said, sullenly:

“ Take ’em yerself, ef yer wants ter, fer I
hain’t goin’ tor be shot down like. a do .”

‘7

 
Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West:-

“By Heaven. but die like a dog you shall,”
cried Colorado King. and, quick as a ﬂash, he
turned his revolver upon the prostrate man and
fired several times in rapid succession down into
his body. I

A shriek for mercy and a. groan of pain com-
mingled were heard by the outlaws upon the
shore, and also reached the ears of “’ild Bill,
who uttered a mocking laugh and cried:

“ Th-rt’s right, Colorado King, ﬁght it out
among yourselves,"

In a perfect fury the guide turned once more
to the scout, and a curse broke from his lips as
he saw that his enemy was escaping him, for tho
splendid black was near the otlwr shore, while
the boat was carried swiftly away v. M; the cur-
rent.

Muddened by the sight-,Colornvlo King emptied
his revolver. and then seized thoseof his com-
rades. and kept up a rattling fire upon the dar—
ing scout.

But the distance was too great nnd the bullets
did no harm. while Wild Bill, under a volley of
riﬂes from the Buckskin Bravos upon the other
shore gained the bank. and rode out into the
shelter of the heavy timber.

Dismounting from his tired horse he led him
to the cover of some large trees, and then ran
down to the shore, well knowing that the riﬂe
he carried would kill double the distance of
those he would have to face.

The crowd of Buckskin Bravos u n the shore
seemed to realize this fact also, or they scat-
tered to cover verv quickl , followed by a jeer-
ing laugh from Wild Bil , who would not fire
upon them. but turned his gaze upon the boat.

A glance showed him that Colorado King
had taken a pair of ours himself, and was pull-
ing for the shore, aided by the man who had
been wounded at his post, and who now sat in
the stern, guiding the clumsy scow with one
hand. the other hanging helpless by his side.

“ Ho, Colorado King!” shouted Wild Bill, in
a voice that run like a trumpet.

“ Curse you. ild Bill! 1’“ be quits for this,"
came back the answer in a voice that quivered
with passion.

“All right, it is war to the bitter and be-
tween us,” shouted Wild Bill, and he raised his
riﬂe to his shoulder and all expected to see the
ﬂash and hear the report that would end the
days of Colorado King.

But the guide did not ﬂinch, although he. too.
expected a shot and well knew Wild Bill’s
dcadl aim.

Wi h a fearless face, uerved to meet the
worst, be looked calmly at Wild Bill, and never
once (altered in his strong, even strokes for the
shore.

“ Look out, pardl”

The cry came from half a score of voices on
the shore, but Colorado King gazed calmly at
the man who he knew could kill him.

Then Wild Bill lowered his riﬂe, and again
raised it; but as before his cuemy did not
waver.

Again. as though thinking better of his intenc
tion, Wild Bill lowered his riﬂ', which he had
supported upon the elbow of his wounded arm,
and called out:

“You are a game one, Colorado King; but
I’ll not shoot you, as I have promised myself
* the leasurc of hanging you.”

nth these words he wheeled on his heel and

I strode back into the timber, when. mounting

his horse, he rode away, leaving Colorado King

amused that his life had been spared, for that

Wild Bill would have missed him he had not
the remotest idea.

CHAPTER XII.
ms: TRAILERS.

Wm Lieutenant Harry Lockwood returned
to the post, and made his report. Colonel Burr
could not but think that Wild Bill had done
right in sending the troo rs back. as some of
the men were unable to d mount, so benumbcd
were they with cold.

“ The scout was right, Lockwood, for the
men have been cooped up for months and
would soon have poris ed.

“ But 1 fear for Hickok, going on alone as he
has,” said the colonel.

“I am perfectly willing, Colonel Burr, to call
for volunteers. among the scouts and hunters,
and follow him, if you say so, sir.”

“ A good idea, kwmd, and you can do so.
only do not be rash, and if you ﬂnd the weather
too much for your men and the horses, turn
back while you can.”

The gallant lieutenant at once went to seek
the rest he so much needed; but at dawn he
was up, and having secured a score of volun-
men; set out n n the trail ho had been forced
to desert the u ht before,

The snow ha not been so heav , as to oblit-
mtc the tracks. and they pro on in Wild
Bill’s trail, after passing the spot when he had
separated from the troopers.

After follovUing it for some time they camcto
the thicket where he had encampod, and soon
after the scout who was leading drew rain al-
most upon the brink of the cliff. .

“ Well, Bludso, have you lost the trail?” called
out Barry Lockwood, riding to the front.

 
“ No, loot’nent, but I doesn’t intend to foller
it whar it goes,” and the scout pointed down
over the cliff.

“ Great Heavens! Wild Bill rode over there
in the darkness!” cried the lieutenant, and all
now were halted and gazing down into the
canyon.

“Yes, loot‘nent, Bill jumped his horse over
thar, ar.’ no mistake, for ther is whar be ’light-
ed; but it wasn’t done in ther dark, an’ it was
done on purpose.”

"On purpose and in daylight, Bludso?”

“Yes. sir; for you see thar was Very little
snow fcll after these tracks was made, an’ it
quit fullin’ some time after daybreak.”

"That at least shows he rode over by day-
light. Blurlso, according to your argument.”

“Yes, loot’nent, and there are his foot-tracks
to show that he scouted ’round ﬁrst, and then
rode over.”

“Do you mean that Wild Bill, reckless as he
is, deliberately rode his horse over this cliff,
Bludsoi”

“ He didn’t do it deliberate, sir, but went over
with a rush, as ther trail shows; but he did it.
and it was to surprise the gang that was around
that fire below.

“That snow-heap let his horse down light,
and I guess he an niscd the boys a leetle.

“ Thar, you seal-go rode on straight down ther
canyon, an’ if you look closer under them
bushes you will see two stiﬂis.”

“Two dead men are there, as I live!” ex-
claimed tho oﬂioer.

“ Yes, sir; and there may be more of ’em, for
Bill works like a whirlwind when he gets to
20102.”

“ Well, we can see what was done in a very
short while.

“ Get to work, men, and see what discoveries
you can make,” ordered the lieutenant.

In a short while, to men who could read the
signs before them as an open book, they got
pretty near the truth of the affair. and the party
started upon Wild Bill’s trail down the canyon.
the horses having been led around to where
they could join it, for no one cared to take the
leap, mounted, over the cliﬂ.

As the rode along they discussed the daring
feat of ild Bill. and Bludso, the scout, had
just said that matters were narrowing down, as
the trail led intoa. bend in the river, when he
drew rein suddenly, as before him, but a few
paces. lay a dead body all in a heap.

“Loot’nent, Wild Bill has been in business
here ug’in,” he said.

“ So it seems. Bludso; but that is not one of
Colorado King’s men.”

“ No. sir; that is one of ther outlaw band that
gave ther trains such trouble last fall."

“What! the Buckskin Bravos, as they were
called!”

“Yes, sir; and he was layin’ for Bill up in
that tree, for there is his but up there now on
that limb, and he took a tumble. ’

“ You think it was Wild Bill that killed
him?”

“ Sure; for there goes the trail of his horse
oﬂ thar toward the river, and it seems that he
must have got into a hornets’ nest, from the
tracks I sees about.”

Straight to the river then they followed the
trail of Wild Bill, but halted upon discovering
the cabin.

f That’s been builded since I was here last
a .

“Guess ther Buckskin Bravos has wintered
there. and we must go slow, for ther tracks
shows, loot’ncnt, thet thar is a nest of ’em ter
tackle.”

“And you think Colorado King has joined
forces with the Bravos?”

“ it looks so, sir.”

“ And Wild Billf"

“ His trail leads to the river, and he was in a
hurry." I

“Surely he would not dare attempt to cross
it. surging as it is, and ﬁlled with ﬂoating ice?”

“He are ther man to do it, if he tuk ther
notion, loot’nent and he did it, too, for thar
leads his trail right into ther stream.” and Blud-
so made the last assertion with considerable ex-
citement.

;,And the Bravos did not follow him, Blad-

“ Not on horseback. air; but now let us see
what are in that cabin. and if ther Buckskin
Bravos are there some of us will wish we hadn’t
come, or bed said our prayer afore we did

come.

“ You think they will ﬁght us!"

H Sure I”

“ Then, charge 1”

With the words upon his lips, the young oﬂi-
cer drew his revolver and spurred toward the
cabin, followed by his men with a cheer.

But no shots reeth them, as they had ex-
pected, and all a at the cabin was silence and

esolation. though there was every indication
that it had been but recently occupied.

A number of bunks were against the rear
wall, aevaral rude tables stood here and there,
and a are still burned in the large chimney-place;
but the occupants had gone, and their tracks
led down to t 0 river. ' ‘

Here and there were red stains upon the white

I

 
snow. and this proved that some one had been
wounded.

That the outlaws had a boat was evident, for
a broken oar was found upon the bank. and the
imprint of where the rude craft had been
hauled out on shore still remained.

But whether Wild Bill was dead, a prisoner,
or had escaped, there was no possible means of
11110“ ing, and reluctantly "Lieutenant Lockwood
gave the order to return to the post.

Back along the ueary snow-trail they went,
and were nearing the fort when suddenly they
saw a man come over the ridge of a. hill in their
advance.

“Wild Bill!"

A chorus of Voices shouted the name, and the
jaded horses were spurred toward him.

With a face pale and haggard from suffering.
and yet fearless and deﬂam. his arm in a sling,
and his horse with (iroo ing head, Wild Bill
awaited the approach of t a party.

“ Ho, Bill, right glad am I to grasp your hand
once more,” cried Harry Lockwood, as be halted
by the side of the scout.

“ Thank you, lieutenant: but which way are
you from!"

“ We have been on the hunt for you, Bill.”

“ Well, you have found me.”

“And you are wounded and suffering, so let
us hasten back to the post.”

“ I am not just now in the best of health, lieu-
tenant, for I got shot in. my arm which pains
me, and neither Black Diamond nor myself have
had a happy time since we left you last night,”
said Wild Bill with a grim smile, and he then
“cut on to tell of his thrilling adventures as
they rode on to the post together.

 
CHAPTER XIII.
ran roman OUTLAW.

“ WELL, doctor, is the bone broken i"!

The question was addressed by Wild Bill, as he
sat in Colonel Burr’s head-quarters. to the sur-
geon of the post, who, was examining the wound
in his arm.

" No, Bill. but the bullet carried in with it a
piece of your jacket-sleeve, and that is what

as made the wound so infull”

“ Then it will not ay him up, Bennett!”
asked Colonel Burr, who stood by.

“ No, colonel, not longer than a few weeks.”

“Bah! if the bone is all right I do not care
and will he as good as new in a few days,” said
Wild Bill, ligh'ing a cigar and coolly watching
the surgeon as be dressed his wound.

“ Now, Hickok. what is your idea in regard
to Colorado King’s intentions,” asked the colo-
nel, as he forced the scout into an easy-chair
near the ﬁre, and took a seat near him.

“ Well. sir, my idea is that he will make for
the Black Hills to get the gold he left there.”

“ But which he will not find?”

“Not unless he saw me hide it on my way
here from the Indian village.”

“ Good! it was thoughtful of you to think of
hiding it.”

“ Oh, I knew that he would go there after it
as soon as be dared risk the trip through the
mountains, and I took the chances, and big
ones, too, to get there first.”

“And you think he will go there as soon as
the thaw comes. now that he is aware that he
will be hanged if I catch him?”

“ Yes, sir, he Will seek the gold, and ﬁnding
it gone. will take the one course left for him.

“ And what is that?”

“ Return and join the Buckskin Bravos, and
doubtless became their chief.”

" He is just the man to do that.”

“ Yes, air, for he knows minrrs will be going
into the bills as soon as the winter breaks up,
and he will hang upon the trails and rob the
trains going out and coming in.”

“ es, that is what the Buckskin Bravos
were at last fall, and they certainly were suc
cessful in some cases."

“They had no leader of nerve, air, or they
would have gotten rich: but with Colorado
King as their chief they’ll do well unless they
are hunted down.”

“ And how to hunt them down is the question,
Hickok.”

“ There is but one way, sir.”

“ And what way is that!”

“ I will go 08 on a scout alone, ﬁnd their rc-
treat, and then lead a hand against them with
your consent.”

“ Certainly, Bill, but you may get caught by
them, and Colorado King would be merciless to
you. as you know.” .

Wild Bill smiled and said in his quiet way:

“Colonel, I do not think that Colorado King
will start for the Black Hills for some do
perhaps not for a couple of weeks, when
snow will have melted a great deal.

“ Then, when he does start, he will not
more than one or two men with him to,
him. and I intend to follow upon his trail.”

“You!”

“ Yea. colonel, and if possible I will take him
divcnand bring him to you for furtbcrcfar-

once.

The colonel laughed. and said:

“ And I shall refer him to the hangman, Bill;
but are you able to start on such a jaunt!" ‘

 
4‘

._ ... - .. . H. . u.~- ‘.

 
“I will be, sir, in a very few days," was the
oonﬂden t answer.

But yet it was nearly two weeks before the
surgeon would give his consent that Wild Bill

should leave the post, and then he told him ,

that his wound was not suﬂlciently healed for
him to go.

“ NeVer mind, doctor, it will heal as I go
along. just as fast as it would if I sat still here
and smoked the colonel’s fine cigars,” answered
Bill, as be mounted Black Diamond and rode
out of the fort upon his perilous mission.

As he noticed how readily a trail could be fol—
lowed, in the condition the ground was then in,
being half snow and slush, Wild Bill determined

to head at once for the Black Hills‘and visit the .

Death Camp.
“Then Ill see if he has been there or not,

and if he has, I can easily trail him back to the I

retreat of the Buckskin Bravns,” he said, as he
grinned the head of his horse toward the Black
ills.

It was a long and a hard ride for both horse
and master; but without adventure he rode
upon the scene of the Death Camp one night
just after dark had set in.

it was impossible for him to see then whether ‘

there were any fresh trails about, so he Went
into camp for the night, fed his horse with the
feed he had brought with him. and building a
fire cooked his supper, eating it with the relish
ofa man who was hungry, at peace with the
whole world and had nothing to fear.

With the ﬁrst streaks of dawn in the east he
sprung to his feet and his first glance was upon
the scene of the death-camp.

The snow had but partially melted here and
there, and the bodies of the dead still lay where
they had fallen.

But here, there, everywhere about the spot,
were tracks of horses and men.

“By Heaven! he has been here before me!”
cried Wild Bill.

Then he examined the trails closely and mut-
tered:

“Three men and three borSes; I thought he
would neither come alone, or bring many with
him.

“ Had he found the gold, those two men with
him would never have gotten back in safety.

*"Oh, no! he is not the man to divide his
treasure with any one, when a knife-thrust or
pistol-shot will save all to himself.

“ Well, he did not find the gold, that is cer~ ,

lain, and, not knowing how I escaped. when he
believed me dead, he doubtless believes I carried

it oi! with me, so, as soon as l haVe avenged the i

mother, I will come and get the daughter’s in-
heritance and carry it to her.
“Now to do a duty I owe these poor dead.”

Finding asuitahle spot not far away, Wild ‘

Bill set to work digging two graves.

Into the smaller one he placed the body of
Mrs. Courtney, with the remark:

“I’ll bury her alone, for some day, if this
country Opens up, as I believe it will to settlers,
the r girl may wish to come here and see her
mot er's graVe.’

Into the other grave he placed the bodies of
Mrs. Courtney’s companions, and then mount-
ing his horse set off on the trail left by the three
horses.

Camping at night on the trail he pushed on
once more at early dawn, the way leading just
as he had expected into the fastnessesof the
Hills. where he knew the Buckskin Bravos must
have retreated after leaving the cabin the day
he swam the river.

There was now eve indication that the win-
ter had gone, the win s had lost their cutting
chill, the melting snow and ice sent the torrents
booming along, and the grass and trees began
to wear the emerald hue of spring.

Here and there the trail he followed would
lead to the bank of some small sl ream where it
crossed; but the rivulet had changed to a tor-
rent, and Wild Bill several times had to go far
out of his way to cross, and then seek the s t
upon the other shore to take up the bro 'en
thread he had been following.

This delayed him so that he felt that he must
be three or four days behind those he followed.

But the trail was plainly marked, excepting
where rising watérs had destroyed it, and he
was determined to follow it to the end, so that
he could discover the exact retreat of the Buck-
skin, Bravos and be able to lead a force against

them.

At last the trail brought him just at sunset
to a deep ravine, through the bottom of which
the waters Went foaming along like a mill-race
in a freshet.

But this was not what caused Wild Bill to
suddenly rein his horse back, into the shelter of
a thicket of dwarf trees, but the sight of a
horseman coming slowly toward him, yet upon
the o positm bank of the ravine.

“ lack Diamond, we are going to have com-
pan ,” said the scout. as be bid his horse in the
glue at, and dismounting, unslung his riﬂe ready

or use.

 
CHAPTER XIV.
a nucxsxm saavo’s melon.
‘ ALlos'r simultaneously the eyes of Wild Bill
had fallen upon two objects to rivet his atten-

.,.. ., w... ._,. .-.. ,....... . -. —-

 
: bleak bank of the ravine.

The one was that the chasm was spanned by
a bridge, and thetother was the approaching
horseman upon the other bank.

Peering out of the thicket the scout was glad
to discover, by the indifferent manner in which
, the horswman rode along, that he had not de-
‘ tected his presence in the vicinity, and as the
trail led across the bridge and then toward the
thicket, he did not doubt but that he would
soon have the outlaw in under the muzzle of his
revolver, for his buckskin hunting-cont, leg—
gings and slouch hat proved that he was one of
the band of Bravos.

A glance at the bridge showed W’ild Bill that
it looked like a very frail nifair, ftyrit Was a
footing of poles a yard long, tied with rawhide
upon four stout cables, the ends of which were
‘ made fast to trees upon either shore.

Lines stretched forth from the center upon
the sides to trees upon the banks, to prevent the
: bridge from swinging like a pendulum under
 the motions of any one crossing; but altogether
i it was a structure which only one with a perfect
. nerve would care to cross.
The horseman, as he approached the swinging
3 bridge, did not hesitate, however, but held
i straight on to the frail-looking footing, and
came safely over to the other side, turning, as
Wild Bill had expected and hoped that he would,
toward the thicket where be little dreamed that
a foe lay hidden.

A moment after the Buckskin Bravo reined
back his horse with a crv of alarm. and at-
tempted to draw a revolver: but a ﬁrm grip
was upon his bit and a reVolver pointed up into
his face. as Wild Bill said, calmly:

“ Po rd Buckrkin, I want you 3’

“ Who are yer'!" asked the man as pale as
death.

“ Have you ever heard of Wild Bill?"

“ Sure; card more of him than I wanted to.”

“Well, now he has the honor of your acquaint-
ance.”

“No! are you ther man they calls the Whirl-
wind!"

“ I am \Vild Bill Hickok, and if you have
heard of me you know that I will stand no
trifling.”

“ Oh! I have heard of you, and how you swam
the river full of ice, and laid out ther party in
ther boat.

“I wasn’t thar. for my lay-out are up herein
ther Hills; but your name goes round the camp-
fires lit night.

"‘ But what in thunder do you want with me?"

“ You shall soon know, I assure you.”

“I am in a lectle of a hurry jist now.”

“ Then answer my questions, and tell no lies.

“ Who are you?”

“They calls me Poker Dan in camp.”

 
i " You belong to the band known as the Buck-
t skin Bravos!”

" Who says sol”

H I do.”

“Waal, what if I do!”

“You are just from your stronghold in the
Hillsi"

“ Granted.”

“ ls Colorado King there?”

H Y n

“ Is he your chief?"

“ Yes, we calls him King of the Bravos.”

“ A good name for him.

“ Yes, he’ll be kin or nothing.”

“ How many are t ere in the band?"

“More’n you’d better tackle, if you are Wild
Bill, ther Whirlwind.”

The scout smiled, and asked:

“ Has not your chief ust returned from a
trail up in the Gold Hills ’

“ Yes, he’s been of! for some days."

“ With tw0 comrades?”

“ Yes, two of the boys were with him.”

“ And they got back when?”

“ Yesterday.”

Seeing that the outlaw was constantly glanc-
ing in the direction he had come, as though ex-
pecting some one, Wild Bill asked:

“ Who are you looking for?”

I: go one.” I

uswer me! 3 there an one on ex t
to follow you i” y y pee

The man was silent, but the finger on the re-
volver pointing into his face seemed to press
harder upon the trigger, and he said. quickly:

“Yes, I’m expecting some one.”

“ Who!”

“ The king and two of the boys.”

“Ah! where is he going?"

“ I do not know.”

“ You must l”

“ Waal, he said as he was disapp’inted in ﬁnd-
in' some gold-dust u in ther Hil s he went arter,
he would jist skip 08 to ther States an' capture
a rich gal whom her dying mother had left to
his charge.”

Wild Bill started at this, for it sounded
strangely as thou h Colorado King. disap-

inted in getting t e gold he had killed Mrs.

ourtney to obtain, and knowing that her
daughter possessed riches, sent her by her
parents from the mines. intended to get the
girl into his power to force from her what
money she had.

 
‘, tion, as he rode out of the thicket upon the '

Wild Bill,_theWhirlwinduofuthe West. H

 ‘7, ::.'I T 2:74;:—
“ Did he say where he was going?” asked the
scout. uietly.
“To hicago.”

“ Do you know the girl’s name?"
(6 o. 1

“ You are sure?"
“ Yes.”

“ When was Colorado King to return!”

“He said he could get back by the time the
snow got out of the Hills.”

“ And when does he start?”

“ He’ll be along soon, for I rode on ahead to
see if we could cross Rocky Run, or would have
to go round by Black Hermit Canyon.”

“ Well, pard, l’ll entertain you until your
comrades come, so dismount, and remember,
no sly work, or I will end your days right
here.”

The outlaw was a man of a philosophical turn
of mind. and having got into a scrape that
looked bad for him, determined to make the
best of it.

“'ith a man different from Wild Bill, he might
not home been '30 passive; but there was no min-
ing-camp, post, ion, or border town in which
the fame of the scout had not spread, and the
most marvelous stories were told of his deadly
aim, desperate daring and giant strength, so
that he was one to aVOid a personal encounter
with under all circumstances.

Thus deciding, the Buckskin Bravo allowed
himself to be quietly disarmed and securely
bound to a tree, while a gag. hastily manufac-
tured, was thrust into his mouth.

Having thus secured his prisoner, Wild Bill

, set about his preparations to greet Colorado

King and those with him, and he made up his
mind to take the chief alive, or kill him then
and there.

 
CHAPTER XV.
THE MEETING ON THE BRIDGE.

IT was just sunset as Wild Bill com leted the
task of securing the outlaw in the th cket and
he cast somewhat anxious glances in the direc-
tion from whence he expected Colorado King
and his comrades.

Not on his own account was be anxious. as he
was accustomed to taking odds; but he was
fearful lest some accident might prevent the
coming of the man, whom he knew to have been
for along time the secret leader of the Buck-
skin Bravos.

Certain knowledge of the movements of troops
meant to be kept secret had leaked out the past
summer in some mysterious way, and Wild Bill
had then felt. that there was a spy in com .

Trains to the Hills, and from them. had) also
been attacked by supposed bands of Indians;
but, to a skilled borderman such as Wild Bill
was, the truth revealed itself, upon visiting the
scmes of robbery, that red-painted faces did not
always hide red skins.

That white men in Indian toggery and paint
were the robbers he did not doubt; but then he
had not believed that any of the men could be
found dwellers at the post, and laid the charge
against the band of road-agents that had sprung
up under the name of the Buckskin Bravos.

Having now found out that Colorado King '

was the leader of the Bravos, and was then on
his way to play a game of wrong and robbery
a ainst the daughter of the woman he had slain,
Wild Bill was most anxious to get him into his

wer.
Do“ I would like to see him hang, and will take
him alive if I can,” he muttered. “ But, rather
than ’have him escape, I’ll end his career right
here.

Once he had killed or cagtured Colorado Kin
and his comrades, Wild ill made up his min
to force his bound risoner in the thicket to
guide him as near t e retreat as he dared go

and then return with all haste to the post to at,

a uad of troopers to follow him to Burp
the uckskin Bravos in their camp.

“ Once I have broken up that tag, I will be
at leisure to go to Chicago, and eep 1:3 ledge
to that poor woman who died in the il 9, and
give the girl her inheritance.

“ I did intend to go on a gold-hunt myself this
summer, but i must do my duty to the orphan
girl ﬁrst,” he generously said.

Going dawn to the bridge, his faithful horse
following him as a dog would have done, he
said:
“ ome. Diamond, let me see if you are afraid
of this trapeze business."

With this he led the animal upoo the bridge,
the noble beast seeming to feel no fear where
his master went before.

The bridge was nearly eighty feet in length,
and not more than a yard in width, while, in
spite of the steadying ines, it would away and
swing to an alarming extent to one poised at
that dizzy hight above a fearful chasm.

But both horse and master looked down into
the depths below without a tremor.

Already had twilight fallen, and objects It a
distance were becoming misty: but with the
dving of the daylight the moon shed asilvery
glow upon the scene, condo the foaming tor-
rent far below to sparkle l e showers of dia-
moods.

Not wishing to go forward, as he feared the
outlaws might appear in sight and see him, and

,._- J

Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West.

9

 
dreading to attempt to back his horse 03 the
narrow bridge, Wild Bill allowed the obedient
animal to stand there, some paces from the
bank, while he cautiously slipped by him and
took his stand at the base of a tree. the shadow
of whose branches, cast by the moon, fell upon
Black Diamond and hid him in partial gloom.

Thus the scout waited, his riﬂe in hand, while
dark clouds rolled up from the west, threaten-
ing a storm, and alternately casting the scene in
shadow and moonlight.

“If that fellow has deceived me he’ll regret
it,” said Wild Bill, as the time passed on and
the expected outlaws did not appear.

But hardly had he spoken the words, when
the moon shot out from behind a cloud and
gleamed for an instant upon some bright object
in the distance.

“Somebody is coming, Diamond,” said the
scout in a lmv tune, and at once he stepped upon
the bridge, Fill“ in hand.

Going close up to the heels of his horse, he
stood tin-re 1)::‘l'lrlg intoihe gloom beyond the
other shore. ,

Then again came an instant of moonlight, and
Wild Bill de'tcted three horsemen approaching
in Indian ﬁle.

“Keep quiet as a panther now, Black Dia-
mond, for we are about to jump our game,” he
said softly to his horse, at the same time run-
ning his riﬂa forward and leveling it along the
animal’s back.

As they neared the bridge the leading horse-
man suddenly broke forth in song, singin an
old ballad in a ﬁne barytone, which on the
scout to mutter:

“You‘ve got a. fine voice, Colorado King:
but the rope will soon choke it off, I’m thinking."
Arriving at the bridge the horse ridden b
the chief shied away from it quickly; but a v0 -
ley of curses and the a plication of the spurs
forced him upon the frail) footing, and he came

trembling forward.

Taken u with the dangerous work they had
to accompish, none of the three men cast a

lance ahead, so failed to see the shadowy out-
fine of a horse already upon the bridge.

But when they were about half-way across,
the moon suddenly burst out from under a
cloud, and their eyes fell upon the startling
sight, and Colorado King drew rein in horror,
while his example was at once followed by his
two comrades coming close upon his heels.

But more startlin still were the cool, threat-
ening words, back up by a riﬂe covering their
hearts:

“ Colorado King, this bridge is not wide
emu? for us to pass each other, so up with
yolur lands, all of you, or jump into the depths

e ow

 
CHAPTER XVI.
m'ro rm: Dams.

Cowaano KING was a man who acted
promptly in danger, and like a ﬂash the knowl-
edge came into his mind that he was doomed to
sure death unless he teak big chances for life.

The horse appearing upon the bridge before
him had been like an apparition, but the moon,
as it sailed out from beneath a cloud, showed
him that a man stood behind that horse, and
had his eye running along the sights of a riﬂe.

Who that man was his voice told him, and
that not one atom of mercy could be expected
at his hands he was well aware.

Under some circumstances, he might have
been willing to have surrendered and run the
risk of escaping.

But with Wild Bill as his captor he knew the
ho was fruitless.

giving been failed in ﬁnding the id where
he had left it, he had made u his in ad togo to
Chicago and see what he co d force from the
daughter of the woman who had discarded him
lon years before, and upon whom he had vis-
its: a terrible vengeance.

Wild Bill had thwarted him in getting the
gold, and now he stood in his pathway to bar

is evil designs u on Clarice Courtney.

All these tboug ts went like lightning-ﬂashes
through his brain, and then he glanced down
into t e dark depths beneath him.

To surrender was death at the rope’s end.

To spring into the torrent below was seem-
ingly certain death, yet there was still a chance
in a thousand for life, and if he lived, then he
in ht gain his end against Clarice Courtney,
an certainly he could avenge himself upon
Wild Bill.

_Having thus decided, he released his feet from
his stirru , and unfastened his belt of arms, to
lighten h weight.

“ gulch! what answer, Colorado Kingi
" c you surrender, or take the leap!" came
in the stern voice of Wild Bill.

“Italce the leap, Wild Bill!”

The voice run out clear and startling in the
night-air, and t en d0wn shot a. dark object
from the bridge, to disappear in the gloom of
the depths belovV.

Even Wild Bill was taken aback at this and-
den and unexpected act for he had believed
that Colorado Kin would surrender, while the
two Bravos ml in their saddles with faint-'
nest, as they saw their leader spring from his
saddle into mid-air. '

 
Snorting wildly, the riderless steed stood trem- '

bling with fright where his master had deserted
him, and noticing that all the animals, even to

Black Diamond, were gettin restless, Wild Bill .

saw that he must act prompt y.
He certainly could not get his own horse off
of the bridge with those two armed foes so near

“Bill, I is too beat out with scare to ride
across here, for I haven’t gotten my nerves
back yet, and it don’t seem as though I could
walk over even.”

“ All right, crawl over, if you like it best, so

’ that you get to the other side,” said Wild Bill,

l

him, and what he did he was well aware must 5

be done with dispatch.

“ Do you surrender, or follow your chief?" he
called out, siernly, keeping his riﬂe at a level,
while he with one hand patted Black Diamond
on the baunch to quiet him.

“ You follow the chief!” was the response of
the man in the rear, and with his words came
the ﬂash and report of the revolver he had
hastily drawn from his belt.

The bullet cut its way through the crown of
Wild Bill’s hat, and the report caused the al-
ready nervous horse to give a start that made

, the bridge sway alarmingly.

But, knowing that the climax was reached,
come what might, Wild Bill fOIIOWed the shot

i of the outlaw a second after with one from his

 
iiﬂe, and a wild shriek burst from the man’s
lips, his arms waved wildly, and clutching at
the mane of his horse as he fell, he dragged the
animal to one side, his hoof went off the edge,
and with a cry almost human in its agony, the
steed followed his master in the ﬂight below.

Wildly the three remaining horses snorted,
Black Diamond now losing his nerve also, and
it certainly looked as though all must be dashed
to eternity; but stern and calm were the words
of the scout:

“ Do you surrender, Buckskin!”

“Yes, oh yes! see! my hands are up!

“ For God’s sake do not kill me!”

The cry was pitiful in its pleading, and Wild
Bill called out quickly:

“ All right, my man; throw your belt of arms
awa .ﬂ

“ ’1! do it,” was the eager response, and the
command was hastily obeyed.

“Now, Diamond, steady, old boy, for there
is no danger.

“Be cool, old fellow,” said Wild Bill, sooth-
ingly, and slinging his riﬂe to his back, he began
to soothe his frightened horse, and at the same
titre call to him to back slowly.

Each foot was gin erly put down by the in-
telligent animal, an when the hoof went too
near the edge of the bridge, Wild Bill would
grasp it and place it in a safer spot, all the time
span ing soothingly to the horse and gaining
his perfect confidence.

All this time, until Black Diamond was on
terra ﬁrm, the outlaw sat trembling upon his
horse, with the riderless steed of Colorado King
in his front, and both of the beasts shivering
with terror.

Finding Black Diamond safe, Wild Bill step-
ped age n upon the bridge, and after some
coaxing, led the horse of Colorado King to the
bank, the other animal following slowly, his
unnerved rider clingin to him, an object of
pitv from his terrible fr ght.

“Now, my man, you are my prisoner, and I
want no funny business, or you ll go over that
cliﬂ’.” sternly said the scout, dragging the out-
law from his saddle.

“ I’ll do all you say, Bill, forIknow whatyou
are when you get started,’ was the whining re-
sponse of the trembling wretch.

Wild Bill glanced into his face and said quick-
ly, as he recognized him:

“ What! you turned outlaw, Nick Nesbiti"

“ Bill2 I couldn’t help it, for ill-luck was on
all I did, and I couldn’t make a dollar, and
there’s a girl out East I promised to marry in
five Vears.” '

“So you took to stealing gold to take back
with you to so Bert her on?”

“ Xf’es, Bill, ad to do something, or go back

“ Better 0 back poor than out throats to get
gold, Nick esbit.

“ I am sorry for on; but as I don’t think you
are bad at heart, I’ 1 give you a chance for your
life, instead of a fellow I have got over in the
brush yonder.”

“You are awful d, Bill.”

“ You need not t ank me until you ﬁnd out
what you have to thank me for."

“Yes, Bill.”

“ You are a member of the Buckskin Bravos!”

“ Yes.”

“ You know their secret retreat!"

“Yes, Bill.”

“ Take me there, and when we return to the
post you will be free to go your way, provided
you levant out of the Hills.

“If you do not, and I catch you again, I’ll
kill on.”

“ ’ll go, Bill, and glad enough; but you run
big risks in going to the retren ”

‘ I am taking the risks, not on, Nick Nesbit,
so just mount your horse and end on."

CHAPTER XVII.
run once! or m CANYON.
IN obedience to the order of Wild Bill, the
outlaw, Nick Nuhit, took the rein of his horse
and turned toward the bri

 
d
“ Why do you not ride,  asked Wild Bill,

throwing himself into his, own

 
with alight laugh.

Agleam of triumph crossed the face of the
outlaw at this, though the scout did notsee it,
and, with another remark about his fears he
knelt down and real! began to crawl on hands
and knees over the ridge, his horse following
slowly behind, while Wild Bill jeered him on
account of his fright.

“ My nerves are very shaky, Bill, and my
legs wouldn’t support me if I did stand up,”
said the outlaw.

“ Your tongue seems all right, though, Nick.”

The man made no reply, but suddenly drop-
ped ﬂit down upon his face, clutching around
the ﬂooring of the bridge for protection.

“Fool! what is the matter with you?” cried
the scout, with anger.

“ It seemed that the bridge was breaking,
Bill,” whined the man.

“ It certainly will not break with too when
it held four horsemen awhile since.

“ wt up and move on, or I’ll ride over you."

Thus urged the outlaw arose to his feet and
walked on, though several times he cried out
with alarm.

Arriving in safety upon the other side he
mounted, and riding closely to the scout’s side,
led the way along a trail branching away from
the ravine.

“ How far is the retreat?” asked Wild Bill.

“ A mile."

“ I’iight in the heart of the mountains, is it
not?’

“ It’s in a canyon in the Hills, Bill.”

“ How is it guarded?

“ There are sentinels at the entrance.”

“ How many 1"

“iTwo men stay there at night, but they take
turns in watching."

“ How many are in the band!”

“ There are a. dozen in camp, now that you’ve
killed the captain and Bob Bowls, and have got
me and the fellow you said you had over in
the thicker.

“ But, Bill, I do hate to go alone here at
night.”

“ Wh , is the trail a dangerous one to
traveli’

“ It is.”

“ And for what reason?"

“ Do you believe in ghosts, Bill!" asked the
man, in a whisper. , -

“No, I am no such fool.”

“Bill, don’t talk that way, for there is a
ghost in these Hills.”

" Nonsense.”

“No, it hain’t nonsense, but real fact, for all
of us have seen the cat.”

“ All of the band!

it Yes."

“ What kind of a ghost is it!”

“A man’s ghost.”

H  I”

“ It is so, Bill, for they do say that a miner
was murdered up in these Hills some time ago,
and that he haunts the canyon ever since to
frighten of! those who Would ﬁnd his gold, for
the murderers did not get it.”

“Well, Nick, he’ll not fri hten me, as it is
the living not the dead that fear.”

“Well, Bill, we have to pass through the
canyon, and we shall be sure to see it, for they
sayb that it shows itself to all who ride by
ni t.

“All right, Nick, I’ll see what effect a shot
has upon it.” ,

“Bill, for God’s sake, don’t shoot a ghost!”
cried Nick Nesbit, in alarm.

“ I’ll shoot ghost, goblin or devil that cranes
my ath, Nick.”

“ ou’ll die if you do.”

“ I may die suddenly if I don’t; but have you
ever seen this ghost, Nicki”

‘é No; for I would not ride out by night, and
when I went along with the chief an hour ago
it was too early for the ghost to walk.”

“Well this is just the time for him, and I
hope we’ll ﬁnd him prowling around,” and Wild
Bil seemed rather pleased at) the thought of
encountering a ghost. ‘

The way led through wild fastnesses for half
a mile, and then the outlaw turned into a can-
yonmso narrow and deep that, it was very dark
wit 11.

But after awhile there was a break in the
canyon’s high walls of rock overhung with uses,
and the moonlight streamed down upon the trail
for a short space.

“Good God, Bill, there’s the ghost!”

With the words, the outlaw suddenly wheeled
his horse to the right-about, drove his spun
deep into the ﬂanks of his horse, and away the
animal bounded the way they had come.

Wild Bill made a quick at that-sins,
but missed them, and then (1mg a revolver,
called out sternly: _

“ Halt, Nick Nubit, or I will shoot you

“l”

8 I m \

 
~M-._.... A . WT...

 
10

Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West.

 
The outlaw shouted back the words in tones
of horr r, as he disappeared in the gloom of the
canyon, urging his horse at full speed.

But raising his revolver, Wild Bill ﬁred
quickly.

There was a shriek, a heavy fall, and the
scout knew that he had brought down the horse
oflthe outlaw, whatever had happened to the
I‘ll er.

Then he turned his gaze ahead of him once
more, for, with the quick Words of the outlaw
he had seen before him ashadowy form glide
into the canyon from the shadows of the cliff
upon the right of the trail.

And there that weird form still stood, silent,

appearing like a specter surely, and with one 1

hand pointing toward the scout.

With the utmost coolness, as he saw that
the apparition had not been alarmed by the shot
and sh0wed no desire to glide away, the scout
sat upon his horse, gazing at the weird form
until silence became oppressive.

Then Wild Bill called out in a voice that rung
like a trumpet:

“Ghost or mortal, up with those weird-look-
ing hands, or I’ll send a bullet searching for
your heart!”

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE GHOST TALKS.

IN answer to the command of Wild Bill, and
the ominous click of the revolvu, distinctly
heard in the deathlike silence of the canyon, the
arms of the white-robed form went up above its
head with an alacrity that a driver of an over-
land stage might have shown when halted by
road-agents.

" Ahf you understand English. Mr. Ghost,
I see," said Wild Bill, riding forward, his re-
volver covering the shrouded form which‘cer-
tainly did look most ghostly, standing there in
the moonlight and in that lonely canyon.

Riding straight up to the apparition Wild Bill
halted, and was surprised with the words:

“ You are Wild Bill?"

“Yes, so 1 am called, ghostie!” was the cool
reply.

“ recognized your form and voice, or I

 
would have risked a shot from any other man.” ‘

“You ﬂatter me, Pard of the Tomb; but who
are out”

“ no who owes his life to you.”

“ Indeed, no, you owe it to yourself for obey-
ing orders so promptly to throw up your
ﬁsts.”

” N o, I owe you my life on a former occasion,
when you risked your own to save me.

“ I am Duff Scott.”

“Ah! sergeant in the Fifth Cavalry when 7

thewaege at Fort McPherson?”
(t as.

“ You are a pretty healthy ghost, Duﬂ."

“ Yes, but I have no time to lose here, Bill, for
I wish to serve on, as I have not for otton the
day when my orse was shot and (p nned me
down, how you came back alone an saved me
from the red-skins,” and the man spoke with
considerable feeling.

“ Yes, they would have made a ghost of you
on that da , sure; but what are you doing up
herohlzufﬂ ’

“ ing ghost.”

“80 see, for you have a sheet around your
form, and a pillow-case over your head with
eye-holes in it, as well as I can judge.

“ It’s a good rig for a rave-walker, sergeant
but somehow you didn’t vs the nerve to stand

Isd have soared any other man but you,

“Yes, any man who believed in the super-
natural; but my associations with the dead have
been too intimate and long-continued for ms to
fear them.

“You frightened the gorloot who was with me,
then b.”

“ at was but a trick."
It 'ckr'
“ Yes, Bill, for he is one of the band.”

“The Buckskin Bravos?”

ll Yes."

“ And you?"

“ Am also a Buckskin.”

“I remember that you got into some trouble
in the re iment, Duff, and took French leave.”

“Yes, ot maddened bgldrink, shot one of
thrmsn w m I was gam ing with, and ﬂed
for my life.”

“ And’yon, turned outlaw?”

as Y”.

“ You are too good a fellow, Duff, for the
work, and if I did not have a memory. as
well as you, and recall how you nursed me f th-
fnlly once throu h long weeks when I was
wounded, I’d w you to Colonel Barr’s Post,
and got you shot on three counts, killin a sol-
dier comrade, desertin . and turnin out w.”

" But you will not, ill, as I w to serve

you now. ,
“Idstsn, and I will tell on how.”
,“Talk quick, then, for have work to do.”
“ The retreat of the hand is not far from

“ That I know.”

‘ 13W?ii‘;§r

u Y‘es.”

“Well, 0 on.”

“ He left here with three men to seek the
nearest station on the stage-road and go East,
intending to return when the snow and ice get
out of the Hills to allow of work.”

“ Rubbing and cutting throats?”

“ lVell. it isn't any better work, as you can
judge; but to my story.

“They hadn’t been gone so very long before
we ot the signal of danger.”

“ hat si nali"

“The bel from the bridge, for you crossed
the air bridge in coming here.”

“ Yes, but who gave the signal?"

“The man with you.”

“ Nick Nesbit?”

it Yes.”

“How did he give you a signal?” asked Wild
Bill, mystiﬁed.

“ I will not tell you how; but there is a way
to signal the camp from the bridge, and we got
a signal that told us of danger.”

“ Vhat was it the signal said?" quietly asked
the scout.

“ It said:

“ ‘ A foe is coming, with me a prisoner; guard
ghelpass behind us, and let the ghost turn him

no .

“Then there was another signal which gave

us the name of the one sending us the warn-

ll’l .

“And that was Nick Nesbit?”

It Yes.”

“ Alli I see, and I understand Nick’s terror at
the bridge: he was pullin some line beneath it
all the time he pretende to be in fear of fall-
i- g, and sending the camp word to prepare for

me.
i “ And you are the ghost that was to turn me
, back!"

H

 
8‘. 97

“Well, I didn’t turn worth a cent, so have
v broken in upon your little game.

“ But where is the passi’
. “At the entrance to this canyon.”

“And there are guards there awaiting me
when I turn back!"

“Yes, Bill, so I will show you a way to escape
them.”

I “ I don’t wish to escape them, ex-sergeant.”

I “ But there are three men there, Bill. ’

i “All right; I have no desire toavoid them,
Duff.”

I “But they are ambushed, and will shoot vou

1 down from cover as you ride back, while Nick

1 Nesbit, if you did not kill him, has doubtless

. joined them too.”

“ I shot his horse, but did not hurt him, unless
the fall knocked his brains out, for which I
would be sorry, for I hope to see him hanged
some day,”

“ Bill, take my warning, and let me show you
a way by which you can avoid the men at the
pass. earnestl said Duff Scott.

"Sergeant, believo you mean me well, but
I am gomg back to the pass.

“I am sorry to have to ask you for your
ghostly rments; but I must do it.”

“Oh, illl the band will kill me."

“No, on can tell them that I didn’t scare,
got the p on you, and played ghost myself."

_“,"I‘hey’ll suspect me, if you go back in this
rig.

“ I hope not, Duff; but my life is worth to me
more than the value I set on yours, so I will
take the cofﬁn ﬂuery, and you must take the
chances with the band.

“ Como, 03 with‘ that white duster and meal-

ba l" i

There was no time to hesitate or triﬂe, and
the outlaw saw it, so at once obeyed the order,
though evidently with great reluctance.

Throwing the white apparel about him, Wild
Bill said:

“ I guess I make as ﬁne a ghost as you did,
sergeant, and I may prove a little more dan-
gerous to the boys at the pass.

“Good-by, Duif Scott? and take in
and give up outlaw lif or it’s a. bad
and sure to and badly or on.”

Without another word ild Bill turned and
walked away, followed by his faithful horse,
while the Buckskin Bravo stood azin after
him, his hand upon the revolver in is be t, and
seemingly half inclined to risk a shot at the
inn w om he had sought to serve awhile be-

ore.

He had no desire to kill Wild Bill from any
feeling ainst him; butto kill him would make
him stan well with the band, and not to do so
might cause his outlaw comrades to look upon
him as a traitor, for, how else could the scout
have become of the ghostly 1.
and the pretended ghost remain free w d be
their way of thinking, Dqu Scott well know.

The weird idea of laying host had been a
plan of Colorado Kfng to rigbton of! any
prowling scout or hunter from the cat, that
mi ht be near the outlaw retreat, an the fall
be ore, thou h they had their camp elsewhere,
the Bucks n Bravos had found the scheme
work well, as the superstitious denisens of the
garrison had never cared to get more than one
glance at the weird being.

But Wild Bill was on the watch, indifferent as

advice
usiness,

 
\

 
he seenml to be when he walked away, and had
the outlaw attempted to draw a weapon from
his belt, the act would have been his.last, for
the scout already had his riﬂe in hand, and was
glancing over his shoulder to note the slightest
hostile movement.

CHAPTER XIX.
A DEADLY AI’PARITION.

WHEN Win Bill \Vullit-ll away from the man
who had played ghost with such poor success,
he had made up his mind what course he would
pursue.

He was well aware that he would labor under
a. very great disadvantage riding upon men in
ambush, and he was not so foolhardy as to
throw his life away, for, though he had escaped
death at times in a manner that seemed miracu-
lous, yet the frequent wounds he had received
proved well enough that he was vulnerable.

To circumvent the outlaws in the ambuscade
then, he must use strategy, he knew.

Going into the shadow of the canyon where
Nick Nesbit had ﬂed in pretended fright at sight
of the ghost, he found the horse of the outlaw
lying there dead, for his bullet had brought him
down, though iniSsing the rider, for Wild Bill
had ﬁred at random in the darkness that envel-
oped the fiyiug horseman the moment he enter-
ed between the overhanging cliffs.

But Nick Nesbit was nowhere to be found,
although the scout made a close search for him,
thinking he might have been hurt by the falling
of his horse.

“The treacherous rascal got up and ran on to
join his comrades at the Pass, thinking I would
soon return and fall an easy prey to them.

“Well, I will return, but I don’t intmd to let
them have it all their own way,” and Wild Bill
started on «l0wn the canyon.

He remembered that the entrance to the can.
you, called by the outlaws “The Pass,” was
some distance from the break or lpening where
he had been deserted so quickly by Nick Nesbit,
so he walked briskly along, Black Diamond fol-
lowing, until lnc came to where he knew but a
few hundred feet separated him iron: the guards
who were lying in ambush for him.

Here he halt~d Black Diamond. standing him
close in under the shadow of the cliﬂ, and throw-
ing his rein over the saddle-horn so that he
would not crop ass. .

“ Now, old is low, you be ready to come to
me when you hear m call, and come in a hur-
ry, too, or you may nd me a ghost in reality,”
said the scout, affectionately patting the arched
neck of the beautiful animal, who tossed his
head with an air that seemed to show that he
fully understood the position of affairs and just
what was wanted of i .

Then arranging his ghostly attire, and with a
revolver grasped in each hand, Wild Bill walk-
ed slowly down toward the entrance to the env—
ern. Black Diamond remaining where his ~mas-
ter had p'aced him.

As he neared the mouth of the canyon, the
moonlight pierced through the trees, and ren-
dered his white-robed form weirdly conspicu-
ous. ..

In size be was but little taller than the ser~
cant, and he was good enough as a mimic to
mitate the voice of the man whose spectral

garb he wore, should he be called to by any of

the ambushed outlaws, which he did not doubt
would be the case.

The mouth of the canyon was a wild and pic-
turesque spot, with the high cliffs upon either
side, half a hundred yards apart, fringed with
trees, and at their base hu 9 bowlders, which
seemed to have fallen fromt e rockg walls, ly-
ing here and there, and covered wit a growth
of scrub cedars. _

Behind some of the covert hiding-places, Wild
Bill felt assured that the outlaws were hiding,
and he kept a bright watch out for them.

Nearer and nearer be ap roached the can-
yon’s entrance, and as no go of his focs was
visible, he gave a. low whistle.

Almost instantly a form stepped out from be-
hind one of the rocksi and as the moonlight fell
upon him, Wild Bil saw that he was clad in
buckskin, and carried a riﬂe.across his arm,
ready for use, in addition to his wearing a belt
of arms.

“ Is that you, Dad?” the outlaw asked.

“ Yes, I’m the ghost, pard,” was the reply, in
no bad mimic of the voice of Duﬂ Scott.

“ Yer well-nigh scared me, on look so ’tarnal
gravelike in our coma clot as; but whar in
thunder is ild Bill, for Nick tells us be are
ther rooster we has ter tackle!” -

“ He’s in the canyon; but where ar. the rest
of the boys?” said Bill, advancing directly upon
the outlaw.

“ Thoyis here. Come, pards, it’s Do! that

is ed host and he’s come to tell us whar
enld Bill is,’; called out the outlaw, and at his
words three other men appeared from behind
as many different rocks, two of them armed

with riﬂes. .

In the third individual Wild Bill recognised
Nick Nesbit. Fooling that the decisive time for
potion had cigmo, he brought his revolvers to a
ovel. shout :

,“Flrs awag, Buckskins, for I’m not such a
ghost as I loo 1”

.. mmA‘Jaux m. mouse u'a‘smsahmlsww ):->
.. ,. . -m V. r . ..

l

\ at once ride at full

 
CHAPTER XX.
a RACE son LIFE.

Wm; his words, which told the amazed out-
lawa that their comrade was not before them,
but one of whom they stood in far greater awe
than of a “ real live ghost,” Wild Bill drew
trigger, and two reports mingled together.

With the crack of the revolvers two men
dropped dead, while, before the third guard,
and Nick Nesbit, who was unarmed, could un-
derstand what had happened, they were cov-
ered by the unerring weapons of the scout, who
shout-ed out:

aHanlds up!” be d th dd h

nick the 0 ye , e guar r0 pin is
riﬂe to nine hi; hands above his head. p g

“ Nick Nesbit, disarm that man!” ordered
Wild Bill.

Trembling with fear, now that he knew who
it was that had come upon them under the dis-
guise of the ghost, and conﬁdent that W'ild Bill
was aware that his fright was feigned, and
knew his treachery, Nick Nesbit obeyed the
order given him, and quickly disarmed the
guard.

Then stepping forward Wild Bill said:

“ Where are your horses?”

“ My horse you kilt, pard Bill.”

“ I know that, and it would be better for you
had you died with your horse by a bullet.

“But where are the horses belonging to the
the three men who uarded this pass?”

“ Behind yonder wlder."

“ Lead the way there i"

The two men walked to the designated rock,
and behind it were found three horses already
saddled and bridled.

Lariats hung upon the saddle-horns, and tak-
ing two of them Wild Bill quickly bound his
grisoners, whom he made mount two of the

orses.

Then he gave a long, shrill call, and over the
frozen ground was heard the clatter of boots.

The next instant, with a low whinuy, Black
Diamond dashed up to the spot.

But, when the clatter of his hoofs ceased,
there was heard the rapid ap roach of a num-
ber of horses, rushing throu the canyon at a
speed that must soon bring t em to the pass.

“ Our pards!" said the outlaw guard in a 10w
tone to Nick Nesbit and both men held hope
that the band would be able to rescue them
from their single captor.

But Wild Bill knew just who was coming,
and what to expect, and throwing himself into
his saddle, he called out sternly:

“ Ride for your lives!”

“ It hain’t our liVes as is in danger,” growled
the outlaw guard.

“ You lie, for I shall kill you, if you do not

speed.”

This was said in a voice that admitted of no
triﬂing, and Nick Nesbit said quickly and anx-
iously:

“ Come, pard, let us do it, for he’s brim-full of
kill to-night.”

Wild Bill raised his revolver and covered the
guard, and thus admonished he urged his horse
into a gallop, Nick Nesbit by his side, and Wild
Bill fol owin close behind.

Hardly ha the dashed out of the shelter of
the roc when t era came in sight as party of
half a ozen horsemen, coming on at full

speed.

A wild yell broke from the outlaw guard at
sight of them, to attract their attention, and
he called out:

“To ther rescoo, pards, for we is capter’d by
Wild Bill, who are runnin’ us of

Wild Bill, made no remark at this, while the
shouts of the coming outlaws in response show-
ed that they had heard what their comrade
had said and would make an effort to re-
capture them, and also to take the scout whom
they stood in such awe of.

‘ Push on, then!” suddenly ordered Wild
33in, as the party in chase seemed to begain-

ng.
“We is doin’ our best,” was the surly re-

sponse.

“I’ll take those horses into the post with me,
with you dead on their backs, if you don’t push
them ”

This ominous threat had the desired effect,
for the two outlaws urged on their horses at
their greatest speed.

Presently the bridge came in sight, and, as
his dprisoners were bound, with their hands be—
hin their backs, Wild Bill spurred in between
them and rained in their horses.

Then he let the animal of Nick Nesbit go
ﬁrst,_ the. horse of the second outlaw follow, and
turning in his saddle, raised his matchlese Win-
chester to his shoulder, to check the too rapid
advance of the pursuers.

There was a sudden drawin up. asthe bright
moonlight revealed the act, s owing how thor-
oughly all knew the deadly aim of Wild Bill.

at the touch upon the trigger sent a bullet
ﬂying into their midst, and a horse went down
Bret: a heavy fall, throwing his rider over his

Thby dared not return the ﬁre for fear of
killing their comrades, or Wild Bill, whom all
were most anxious to capture alive, and the

 
. Wild Bill, the Whirlwind ofthe

 
scout followed his captives upon the frail
bridge.

They crossed in safety, and seeking shelter
behind some trees near by, Wild Bill hitched
the horses of his prisoners and then called out,
as he saw the pursuers preparing to cross:

 The man who rides upon that bridge I
i l

Quickly the outlaws fell back to the shelter
of the thicket upon their shore, and feeling con-
ﬁdent that he had checked their advance for
the present, Wild Bill hastened away, leaving
the captives and horses there, while he went
after the prisoner whom he had left bound and
galgged in the thicket further up the ravine.

inding him, he was quickly relieved of the
gag and bound in his saddle in haste, for Wild

ill knew not what moment the pursuers might
make the attempt to cross the ravine, thinking
he had gone.

Should they cross while he was away, and
once gain the timber upon this side of the
ravine, they would rescue his prisoners be well
know, and capture Black Diamond also, while,
at the same time, they Would place him in a
most perilous position, on foot as he would be
in the midst of his foes.

CHAPTER XXI.
WILD BILL’s DEFIANCE.

HaanLY had Wild Bill started upon his re-
turn to the timber where he had left the two
outlaws, and was leading the horse of his third
captive quietly along, when he had reason to
rggret that he had not gagged those he left
t ere.

The nature of the ground was such at that
point that he would have been seen from the
other bank of the ravine, had he attemped to
ride to where the ﬁrst prisoner he had taken
was hidden, so he wished to let the outlaw ur-
suei's believe that he was still in the tim er,
ready to keep them at bay should they make an
Effort to cross, and thus it was that he went on
oot. '

But his absence was soon noticed by his two
ca tives, and Nick Nesbit said:

‘He told me, pard, that he had one of the
men, who started with the captain, tied up over
in the thicket, and I guess he as gone for him.”

“ I’ll be sart’iu thet he hes, an’ then tler boys
on t’other shore will hear from me,” was the
answer.

“Better not, for he‘ll kill you if he gets back,”
urged the more timid Nick.

“Waal, he’ll hang me if he takes me to ther
post, an’ shootin’ is a more pleasanter death.”

Nick Nesbit shook his head, as though he did
not think any means of death was preferable to

 
in the timber for Wild Bill.
Nowhere was he to be seen, and to make as-
surance doubly sure, he called out:

over, an’ yer oughter let me go fer tellin’ yer.”

No answer came, and, convinced that Wild
Bill was really not in the thicket, the outlaw
raised his voice and shouted:

“ Ho, pard Buckskins, hear me!”

b “is that you, Barney?” came from the other
an .

“ It are, and me and Nick Nesbit is here, tied
on our horses, and the animiles is hitched to a
tree, while Wild Bill hev levanted.”

Every word was distinctly heard, not only by
the out aws across the ravine, but by Wild Bill,
and though by no means rammatically ex-
pressed, was fully as well an erstood as though
the purest English had been used.

From the outlaws came a cheer, and there
was mounting in hot haste and spurring from
their shelter out into the moonlight, while a
voice shouted:

“We’ll save you, rdsl”

As for Wild Bill, e knew that no time was
to be lost, and he sprung nimbly to a seat behind
the outlaw, and, ceasing to look for cover any
longer headed straight for the spot where he
ha left his risoners.

He knew t at it would be impossible to gain
the bridge and keep back the half-score of men
he knew were in the chase, so all he sought to
do was to get away once more with his captives
and make t another run for life.

He dashed up to the spot where he had left
them, just as the (pursuers were strung out
upon the bridge, an Barney expected that his
moment of doom had come.

ering the lariats that held the two horses, quick-
ly made them fast together, tying the animal

others.

“Now push, you devils, or I’ll help you
along!” he ordered, stern] , as he threw himself
upon the back of Black iamond and laid the

horses before him.

Away they bounded, Black Diamond clOSe
.upon their heels, just as the ﬁrst outlaw rode oi!
the bridge, followed rapidly by others.

Out from the timber then dashed Wild Bill
and his captives, into the daylight, for dawn
had now poled the moonlightsand at once the

 
outlaws set up a yell as the an a hot -
suit over the frozen ground. y beg Pu

But Wild Bill did not speak to him, and sev- l

ridden by his third captivo along with the ‘

end of .his lariat upon the backs of the three ‘

 
West.

Driving his prisoners before him, his revolver
held in one hand, Wild Bill rode grimly along,
while the outlaws came swiftly On in hot pur—
suit.

The pursuers were within range, yet dared
not ﬁre at the inﬂexible Bill when he was so
near their comrades, and knowing this Wild
Bill deﬁed them.

But Barney knew his danger, and seeing that
Wild Bill was in a fair way to triumph, as the
outlaws feared to crowd one whom ihey knew
to be so dead a shot, he called out, as they sped
along:

“Fire on him, pardsi Never mind us, so you
kills him, for we will be hanged anyway !”

Nick Nesbit and the other bandit at once
raised a yell against this, while the pursuers
gave a cheer for Barney's pluck, the leader of
the arty calling out:

“ ully for you, Barney 1”

Seeing that they intended to fire upon him,
Wild Bill spurred ahead of his prisoners, halted
them, and, shielding himself and Black Diamond
with their horses and bodies, he threw his riﬂe
to his shoulder and the crack followed immedi-
ately.

From his saddle fell an outlaw, just as the

ty had halted to ﬁre a volley at the scout,
intending to take as good aim as possible,
shielded as he was by their comrades.

But his deadly shot scattered them quickly to

et beyond range, and with a mocking laugh of
deﬁance Wild Bill once more started off with
his prisoners, who gave a sigh of relief that
that ordeal of death at least was passed.

CHAPTER XXII.

' TH]: STROKE FOR FREEDOM.

THE Hills were certainly in no condition for
traVeling, as the valleys and canyons were
blocked with ice and snow, and the streams
were all swollen be end their banks, so that it
made it most diﬁicu t for man or horse to get
alon . -

With his three prisoners, however, Wild Bill
set of! for the 'poet, determined that he would
not allow untoward circumstances to triumph
over him.

All through the day he drove the three horses
before him, going at a slow pace, as, not daring
to leave his captives free. their horses had 'no
aid from their riders and had to look out for
themselves.

When night drew near Wild Bill lanked about
for a safe camping-place, for he dared not at-
tempt to continue his way in the darkness ow-

 
- ing to the frozen ground and almt st impassable

another, and his comrade loiiked earnestly about »

barriers of ice that fr qurntly had confronted
them.

He selected a pine thicket, under the shelter
of a hill, and soon had a roaring fire built. The
prisoners were then dismounted and bound near

: the ﬁre, while the horses were aIIOWed to graze

“ Say, Wild Bill! I think ther boys is comin‘ ‘

upon whatllittle verdure they could ﬁnd.
A shot from the scout had brought down a

4 deer, and this was soon dressed and tempting

pieces of juicy meat were broiling upon the
coals, the prisoners looking on the while with
hungry anticipation after their long day’s ride
and fast.

“Pards, I don’t wish 'to be hard on you, so
I’ll let your hands loose while you eat our sup-
per, but I'll keep my eye on you all t 9 same,”

said Wild Bill, and he led his ca tivrs to a log ’

before the blazing ﬁre and un astened their

‘l

|

o

: hands. '
Then he laced near them the meat for their
supper, an took a seat upon the opposite side _ ..

 
l
l
i
l
i
i
r

i
l
a
i

i

of the ﬁre, his revolver in his hand.

The three men sot to with a will hroili
their meat and eating, while Barney, the do —
me—care one of the trio, cracked jokes about
their dangerous position, yet raised no laugh
from his fellow captives. i

“ You are a game one, Barney,” said Bill, ad-
miring the man's pluck.

“Think so, Billy?”

it I do.”

“ Waal, it’s good praise from a man of your
nerve, and I enjoy it.

“ But- won’t you have a bite of this steak?”

“ I’ll eat my supper after you have ﬁnished, '

Barney.”

“Oh! you go to the second table, does yer!
Waal you knows best, and I. tells yer ﬂat-
footed that you do right to watch me for if I
got the chance I’d give you the slip, if i had! to:
take your life to do it.” «9

“ I know that, Barney; but I do not intend to
give you the chance,” answered Wild Bill, with.

l a smile

“ Yell is right, Bill, and I don’t blame yer.
“ Would do the same if.I was you and you
was

ﬁre, for it’s getting chilly.” .
And Barne shuddered, while, as Nick Nesbit

did not see to place the log tosuit him, be

continued: x

“Thar is some folks so bornthotthsivydoh’t ’
i know nothinlg

about makin
one of ’em, ick, fer that
enou h to scare a wolf of.

“ here, man!”

As he uttered the last words Barns
the log, which had one end in the re, and.

a an on is,
n’erl’nako ybless

me. -
“ me, Nick, give that log a kick into the i

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Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West.

 
{Jaised it, as though to throw it upon the blazing
eap.

But then, quicker than thought. he hurled the
blazing fagon straight at Wild Bill, and then,
with his feet bound as they were, gave a
mighty leap right across the ﬁre directly toward
his foe.

The attack was wholly unexpected to Wild
Bill, and but for his quickness of movement the
missile would have struck him fairly in the face,
disﬁguring him for life.

But as it was he sprung to his feet, and the
burning log struck him in the breast, knocking
his revolver from his hand, and the blow throw-
inihim ﬂat upon his back.

efore he could rise or draw another weapon
the foot-bound outlaw was upon him, grasping
his arms in a wild embrace, while he shouted
out to his comrades:

“Now, pards, do your work an’ Wild Bill is
ours!”

It was evident that the two remaining out-
laws had been as much taken by surprise by
Barney’s act as was Wild Bill, for thou b they
sprung to their feet at the bold stroke or free-
dom made by their comrade, they stood still, as
though not knowing what to do.

Seein this, and realizing his inability to cope
with Wild Bill‘s marvelous strength, and that,
bound as he was, the struggle could last but a
moment, Barne shouted out:

“ Cowardsi on’t yer intend ter help me
ag’in’ this hour giant?"

Instantly aroused to action by this appeal,
the,two men hobbled toward the two struggling
men and threw themselves upon the scout,
Nick Nesbit getting a grip upon the throat of
Wild Bill, which he could not shake oﬂ, ham-

red as he was with Barney and the other out-
aw’s clutch.

At last, however, Wild Bill managed to throw
Barney to one side, and temporarily free from
all but Nesbit’s clutch, he drew a revolver and a
dull report followed, and the weight of a dead
man was upon him.

“One 0’ us is wiped out! but cling to him
Nicki” yelled Barney, and as Nick Nesbit had
net once released his vise-like grasp upon the
scout’s throat the pressure began to tell, for
Wild Bill’s arms suddenly became werless,
and he sunk back apparently nnconsc ous.

“He’s dead, Barney,” cried Nick.

“ Nary' it hain’t in him ter die with ther
choking; but it hev shut 03 his wind fer awhile,
an’ afore he ets up steam ag’in we hev 0t ter
ﬂx him so as 0 cannot git away,” and arne
at once freed himself of the lariat about his
ankles and securel y bound Wild Bill, whose face
was almost black from the choking he had re-
ceived from Nick Nesbit.

“ Now I guesses ther tables is tamed, an’ we
hes ther reat Wild Bill fer keeps,” said
Barney, w th an air of satisfaction at his tri-

umph.

“ Yes, but he has killed our pard, Barney.”

“ I wouldn’t have cared of he hed kilt you too,
Nick so that we got him all right; for be are
worth the life of any man in ther band ’ceptin’
myself, and ther he s will have a lively time of
it when we gits bac with our game.”

“ As the captain is dead I guess they’ll make
you chief, Barns ,” said Nick.

“ Is you so sad sart’in ther captain are
dead?”

“ Yes, for he went over from the bridge into
the canyon, which was a roaring. torrent, as you
know.”

“ nd he is like a cat with nine livos, so I

'1 won’t take stock in his being dead until I sees

him with his toes turned up.
“Hello, Bill, you is rev vicatin’, I sees," and
Barns turned his gaze upon Wild Bill, who
set t en opened his eyes 11 n the situation to
ad himself bound hand an foot, the dead out-
law serving as a pillow for his head, and the
captives that were now holding him at their
mercy.

 
CHAPTER XXIII.
A DOUBLE sunpaisn.

IT was with a sin le lance at his fees that
Wild Bill took in t e s tuation, and knew that
he was a prisoner.

At the remark of Barney he smiled, and
a aking with difﬁculty, for his throat pained
h m. e said:

“ es, I have revived, Barney, and find you
master of the situation.”

“ I are, in fact.”

“And you are a lucky fellow, and deserve
credit r our turning the tables upon me, and
I see I i have to watch you more closely when
I get on once more where you have me now.”

‘ Yir don’t mean ter say or ex cte sich a
thing ter happen, Wild Bill?” asked the outlaw,
in surprise.

“ Certainly, for a turn about is fair play.”

“And you thinks you’ll git away!”

“ Of, course 1 do.’

‘ " “new kin yer?"

“You managed it awhile ago.”

“Waal it kinder skeers meter hev or talk
so, and iii agar in up with yer all nig t, with
mgﬁun p’in right at yer.’

llanghed, and answered: '

 
“I advise you to do so; but now I want my

on r.

2%ou is hun ryi”

“Just what fem l”

" Well, you shall have it; but I feeds yer
same as ef yer was a baby, as I hain’t going ter
let yer have ther use 0’ yer hands.”

“All right; only give me some supper,” was
the matter-of-fact reply.

Barney at once set to work broiling some
more meat, for that which had been on the fire
had been burned to a coal.

Giving the scout small pieces at a time, they
Were eaten with a relish that was surprising,
considering the circumstances.

Then Nick Nesbit gathered some logs, threw
them on the fire, and the prisoner was placed
near it for the night, while the outlaws sat
down, enveloped in their blankets, to watch
their prisoner until morning, for they dared not

0 to sleep securely as they knew that they had
ound the Whirlwind.

And thus the long, dreary hours of the night
wore by, Bill sleeping soundly, or feigning to do
so, and his guards nodding and napping, yet
conscious of any movement made y their
prisoner.

At last the dawn was at hand, and rising from
his warm place by the ﬁre, Nick Nesbit began to
throw more logs upon the glowing coals, re-
marking:

“We must have our breakfast, pard, and get
off as soon as we can, for I won’t feel safe until
we ,get Wild Bill in camp, and see him strung
u

p.

“ Nor I, Nick; fer thar might be prowlin’ In-
juns or soldiers about, even ef ther hills is full
0’ ice yet.

“ Say, Bill, dayligltait are comin’,an’ yer hain’t
got away yit,” and arney touched the sleeping
scout, who at once opened his eyes, and an-

swered:
“ No; but the day has not passed yet, Barney,
my boy.
‘ I hope you sle t well.”
“No, indeedy. or I hed ter keep my eye on
ou

“ What a pity, for I sle t most sweet] , and
am as hungry as a bear. here’s Nicki’

“ Gone after fodder for ther ﬁre.”

“ I am glad of it, for I am a triﬂe cold.”

“Waal. here he comes now with a wagon-
load on his back, so yer’ll git warmed up pretty
soon, tho’ I’m guessin' when ther boys is done
with yer ter‘morrer, er'll be wantin’ ter git
cool a ’in, or I doesn’t now whar yer is in .”

“I'l make it warm for you, Barney, i I get
the chance,” assured Wild Bill, and he arose to
a sittin ture, having slept all night with the
body 0 t e dead outlaw for a pillow.

Just then he turned his head, as a heavy load
of wood was thrown upon the tire, and he heard
a clear voice cry out:

“ Bad ale-few is my prisoner !”

“ Red tar, the Girl Queen of the Blackfeet!”
cried the bound Wild Bi”, as he saw before him
the form of the Indian girl to whom be before
owed his life, and beheld hercoverin the breast
of Barney With an arrow drawn bac to the full
tension of the bow.

She was clad in the heavy buckskin coat
which Nick Nesbit had worn, and upon herhead
was the hat of that worthy, pretty sure indica-
tions that Mr. Nesbit had “come to grief” of
some kind.

Then her arms full of wood had enabled her,
in the early dawn, to reach the camp-ﬁre unre-
cognized, and suddenly to confront Barney, as
she threw down her load, with an arr0w leveled

at his head.

“ Durnationl a Injnn al in Nick’s duds, or 1
sweet] liesl Bill, we is th done fer, sart’in,”
cried arne .

Wild Bill’s answer was a laugh at the amazed
face of the outlaw and the droll appearance of
Red Star, who, seeming to realize that she
did not appear to advantage in the un ainly
suit, with surprising celerity threw of! t e hat
and heavy coat of buckskin.

The act was instantly taken advantage of by
the cunning outlaw, who covered her with a
revolver, while he cried out:

“ You is too pretty ter kill, gal, so I’ll jist
sell yer ter ther Sioux, an’ now you is wuss of!
then of yer hedn’t conned here ter take me in."

Wild Bill’s exclamation of alarm had attract-
ed the atteniion of R (1 Star to her peril; but
to the surprise of the scout she made no effort
to prevent Barney from etting the best of the
situation and did not quai as she gazed square-
ly into his face.

But her lip curled with scorn as she said:

“ Bad pale-face is a fool. Let him look there
and see that the Red Star’s words are true.”

She pointed behind him as she ke, but
Barns was a cunning dog and said w th a leer:

“I es seen thet leetle game tried on afore
Injun gal, an’ it don’t go down with me, fer
doesn’t look ahind me ter give you the drop on
me ag’in.”

A contem tnous exclamation broke from-

Red Star’s ps at his words, and raising her
voice she called out in her own tongue:

“ Let my young men come before the eyes of
this bad pale-face that he may see that Red
Star’s tongue is not crooked l” '

 
“ Durnation an’ dead cats! she hes a gang 0’
bucks at her backl I caves, leetle Injun gal,”
and Barney lowered his revolver as there sud-
denly glided out of the thicket, like phantoms,
a score of Blackfeet braves, in all the glory of
their warspatb paint and feathers.

“Does the bad pale-face see?” asked the In-
dianvgirl, with a smile of trium h.

“ as], I'm thinkin’a blin man c’u’d see
them bucks an’ they is more than I loves ter
look on— Lordyl thar they has Nick in on-
dress uniform, an’ he’ll cotch his death 0’ cold,”
and Barney gazed at Nick Nesbit, who was
approaching between two warriors, coatless
and hatless, and his hands bound behind him,
while upon his face rested amost rueful ex-
pression of distress and alarm commingled.

With a celerity which showed long practice
the warriors disarmed and bound Barney, who
offered no resistance, but said in his odd
way, as he was placed by the side of Nick
Nesbit:

“Cats an’ crickets, Nicki but we is in fer a
Injun barbecue, or I sweetly lies, for these
Blackfeet bucks will cook us, sart’in; but
how in thunder did yer git Injuns instead 0’
wood?” '

“I went to pick up a log, and found it was
that red-skin girl, and it wasn’t any use ﬁghtin’,
as there were a dozen on me in a minute.”

Wild Bill laughed at this, while Barney
called out:

“You needn’t feel so funny, Wild Bill, for
you‘ll be worse off with these reds than you
would have been with us Buckskins— But,
cats an’ crickets! look a ther!”

As Barney uttered the words, a ringing cheer
was heard, and then came the command in a
tram tvoice:

“ harps!” _

CHAPTER XXIV.
BEATEN BACK.

“ Hoi Lockwood to the rescue!” shouted Wild
Bill as he recognized the trumpet tones of Lieu-
tenant Harry Lockwood, who had given the
order to his men to charge the camp.

Anxious about the scout, the brave rung
lieutenant had gained leave from Colone Burr
to leave the post to look him up.

With a few picked men, mounted u n the
best hv rses, and with a good guide an scout
the young officer had taken the trail and pushed
ahead with all the speed they could go in the
then condition of the hills and valleys.

The trail of the red skin hand under Red
Star, the Girl Indian Queen, had been met, and
the young oﬂicer determined to follow it, hop-
ing to sur rise the red-skins in camp, and thus
make up or his want of numbers, as he knew
that they had double his force.

Night had caused him to go into camp, but at
the very first glimmer of day he was in the
saddle once more, and the guide soon reported a
camp-fire ahead.

They had ridden upon it so close without see-
ing it that Harry Lockwood felt that they must.
not delay an instant, so gave the order to charge
at once u n the camp, as the warriors were
plainly vis bio, and only their being laken up
with what was going on about them prevented
their seeing the approachin soldiers.

Barney, however, saw t em, and his words
gaVe the alarm, and instantly every warrior
sprung to cover and opened upon the charging
cavalry.

Being thus prepared, with arms in their
hands, and an advantageous shelter near in the
thicket, the Blackfoot warriors were able to
meet their white fees at a disadvantage, and
sent a shower of arrows upon them which
brought down a couple of men and several
horses.

But Harry Lockwood was nothin dauntM,
and emptying his revolvers into t e thirtrv.
whereVer a red-skin was visible, he comimed
his headlong charge, until another volley of ar-
rows, and a few shots from Indians armed with
rifles, brought down his horse and hurled him
into a snow-bank.

“Great God! he will be killed!

“ 11;), en! rally and save your gallant lead-
erl” crierg Wild Bill, rism on one elbow and
shoutin to the soldiers, w o allantly dashed
forwar to the aid of the ieutenant, upon
whom the red-skins were rushing with exultant

ells.

y “ I hopes they’ll be like ther cats 0' Kilkenny,
Bill," said Barney, gazing with deep interest
upon the scene. ‘

Thou h with an arrow sticking in his arm,
and a allot-wound in his shoulder, the daring
young oﬁicer sprun to his feet and faced his
red foes, his sword n one hand, and his clubbed
revolver in the other, for he had fired his last

hot. .

0n the red-skins rushed upon the brave man
at bay, but the troopers now charged in a body,
and the withering ﬁre of their revolvers sent
the Indians to cover once more.

In an instant the soldiers fell back, their lieu-
tenant in their midst. and ging their dead
with them, among the latter ng the guide,
who had fallen just as he reached the side of his
commander.

Wounded and dismounted himself, with half

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Wild 3111, the Whirlwind of the

 
of the horses of his men killed, his guide and
three soldiers dead, four wounded, Harry Lock-
wood saw that there was but one course for him
to pursue, and that was to retreat, so he reluct-
antly gave the order.

But the Indians had suﬁered sevarely, too,
and were in no mood to follow up their victory,
so to the surprise and delight of the soldiers
they were allowed to go their way unmolested.
Yet they felt the necessity of pushing on until
they arrived at a. good camping-place, where
they could protect themselves if attacked.

Then the wounded were looked after, the
dead buried. and the retreat was resumed.

But here another danger stared them in the
face, for, with the guide dead, there was no
one to lead them back to the post.

Harry Lockwood was by no means a skillful
scout, and his men knew next to nothing about
ﬁnding their way in the hills and on the prai-
ries, while the midday sun melted the snows
and their trail made in going was quickly ob«
literated.

Taking his bearings as well as he could, the
young ofﬁcer pushed ahead, though suffering
with his wounds, and his men followed, grow-
ing more and more despondent with every step
thev made.

With little food, the cropggngs only which
they could get, the horses too gan to fail, and
nig t settled down upon the party in a most
dreary mood, in spite of the young lieutenant’s
efforts at cheerfulness.

Then, too, it was discovered that the man
who had carried the matches and provisions
for the party had been killed, and the pack-
horse had been captured by the red-skins, so
that they had to go into a ﬁreless camp, with
the chill winds whistling about them, hungr ,
wretched, and dreading that they might be
pursued by their red foes and attacked at a
disadvantage which the greatest bravery upon
their part could not overcome.

CHAPTER XXV.
nap sun‘s FRIENDSHIP.

WHEN Wild Bill had hailed the approaching
troopers in their headlong charge upon the
camp, and called Lieutenant Lockwood to the
rescue, he had believed that there was a much
larger force at the young ofIiCer’s back than
eventually a peered, and he did not doubt but
that the so diers could put the red-skins to
ill ht.

ut the loud hail of Wild Bill had not been
heard by the cavalrymen, nor, in fact, had the
three white men been seen by them, so that the
soldiers knew not that the scout whom they
were searching for was so near them.

When Wild Bill beheld the paucit of num-
bers of the trowpers, and saw that t 9 Indians
had found good Shelter for themselves, and out-
numbered their white foes greatly, he had
shouted to the soldiers to go back in good order.

But as he did so, the harm of Harry Lock-
wood fl-ll dead, throwing his rider into the
snowbank, and the scent feared that the end
had come.

But the gallant charge of the men, to rescue

. their idolized young commander;i brought ring-

ing cheers from the lips of Wil Bill, who for-
got himself in his interest in the ﬁght.

“ Oh, that I had my arms free and a revolver
in each hand l” groaned Wild Bill, as the troops
fell back in haste.

“I guesses yer’d make red-skin fur ﬂy jist
about now, Bill,” said Barney, who heard the
wish expressed.

“ I hope they will kill the soldiers, for they
are as much our foes as are the red-skins,” re-
marked Nick Nesbit. 1

“Well, my friends, you are doomed to die by
Indian torture instead 6'! being han ed, for the
red-skins have won the day,” said lid Bill, as
he saw the troopers retreat rapidly out of

ht.
‘You say we is, Bill, but yer don't refer ter
yereelf,” rejoined Barney.

“Perhaps they won’t torture me,” was the
quiet reply.

“ What is yer givin’ us, pardl”

“ I mean it, that I do not believe the Indians
will torture me to death; but I am certain they
will make it hot for you.”

“Does you take us fer fools, pard, ter think
that ther reds would let Wild Bill, thar deadest
foe, hev a picnic 0’ freedom, while Nick an’ me
here is entertained with ther howlln’ about us,
previous to torturin’ us to death ?”

“Wait and see, parda, what will be done, and
whatever comes, I'll face it.”

“And me too, Wild Bill, fer I’ll die with re-
ligun ef they'll only let me see ’em start you on
ther long trail for ingdom come fust."

Just then Red Star came up, and there was a
ﬂash of triumph in her eyes as she said:

“ M braves heat back the ale-face soldiers.”

.As er gaze was upon ild Bill, be an~
swened:

" Yes, the Blackfoot braves under their Girl

ueen were victorious; but what will the Red

tar do with her captives?” and Wild Bill looked
uarely in the face of t e maiden.
oramoment she I e no reply, while one

 
by one her warriors, ﬂushed with victory, but
with angry eyes at the losses they had met with,
came and stood in a. semicircle about the pris-
oners.

“Has the white chief been upon the trail of
my Reople?” asked Red Star, calmly.

“ o, I have been on the trail of these robber
pale-faces, and they were my captives; I was
taking them to the camp of my people, when
they ot the best of me, and I again owe the
Red tar my life, for they would have killed
me had she not come to my aid.”

“Cats an’ crickets! does ye hear him talk,
Nick?” oried Barney.

“ I do.”

“ Waal, he chins as tho’ he hed know’d ther
gal from a pappoose, and ’spected she’d say ter
him thet he c’u d git, while we was ter be kept
as amusements fer her braves.”

Red Star seemed to understand pretty well
what Barney said, for she answered quietly:

“ The bad pale-face talks straight, for the
Red Starowes her life to the white chief, and
she will let him go free.”

As she uttered the words she step ed forward l

 
and quickly untied the lariat wit) which the %

feet and hands of the scout were bound.
“Nick, does yer see?” groaned Barns '.

l
“ Yes, we are in for It, pard,” was the doleful
answer of Nesbit.

“It do look as tho’ ther gal were stuck on 1

Bill, and are going ter make us a present to
him,” and Barney watched ea erly for the next
turn in the tide for or against imself and Nick
Nesbit.

Rising to his feet and shaking himself to-
gether, to start the blood in circulation after his
cramped position for hours, Wild Bill said,
gently:

“ The Red Star is a true friend, and I will not
forget her or her people for this act toward one
who has for so long been the foe of her race.”

“The Red Star has a heart. and she does not
forget what the white chief did for her," was
the answer.

“ That was paid in what she afterward did for
me; but dees the Red Star mean that I am free
to go my way ?”

“Yes, the white chief can take his arms and
his horse and go.”

But already had his weapons been appropri-
ated b one brave and his horse by another, and
Wild ill’s knowledge of Indian character was
such that he was aware that trouble would fol—
low his attempt to take his propert .

He saw also that the two warriors who had
seized his arms and horse were a pair who hated
him cordially, believing that Red Star loved
him, and that he might some day be their rival
for the love of their Girl Queen.

Of course they hated each other as cordially as
rivals, but against the pale-face scout they made
conﬁnon came, and were determined not to
yie .

Bill recognized them both as braves who
he knew had hated him when he lay ill in the
Indian village and he knew them to be pow-
erful men, active as panthers, and boastful of
their strength and prowess at arms.

Such a thought as fearing them did not enter
his mind; but then he wished to avoid trouble
With them, as if he cou‘d cement an alliance
between the Blackfeet and whites, they could
make a common war upon the powerful tribe of
Sioux, then masters of the Black Hills.

Red Star also saw the attitude of the two war-
riors, as one stood/holding Black Diamond by
the rein, and the other had Wild Bill's belt
about his waist and his riﬂe in his hands.

“ Did my braves hear the words of Red Star?"
she asked. turning upon the two Indians.

“ The Red Star gives the pile-face foe of our
people his life.

“ Let him take that and 0!" answered Wolf-
Killer, the warrior who he (1 the rein of Black
Diamond.

“ The Red Star gives back to the white- chief
his horse and his arms.

” Let my braves give them up,” quietly said
the Indian girl.

“ The Wolf Killer speaks well; let the white
warrior take his life and strike the trail for the
camps of his people,” boldly remarked Panther
Eye. the second one of the two rebellious
braves.

“ Do my warriors refuse to obey the words of
their queen?" asked Red Star.

Before either could reply Barney blurted out:

“ You two red niggers holds trumps, so don’t
throw down no keerd thet hain’t goin’ ter
wm.

“ Ther gal hes give Bill his life, uu’ ef be are
so greedy as ter want his horse an’ weepins, let
him ﬁght for ’em.”

A number of the Blackfoot braves understood
sumcient English to master these words of the
outlaw, and the nods of approval from around
the circle showed to Red Star that she mustsub-
mit to the will of her warriors in this particu-
lar, should she wish to continue to hold the
power over them she then possessed.

So she said:

“ The white chief hears What my bravessa i”

“ ﬁy. I’ll only be too happy to tackle .
Wolf— iller and Panther Eye, if that is their
little game."

 
, _,9§?' ._

“Thet’s music thet I loves; let the cirkis be-
gin,” cried Barney, anxious to see Wild Bill

slain, happen to himself and Nick Nesbit after-
ward what might.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE DUEL.

PANTHER EYE and Wolf—Killer had both seen
too much of the great strength and unerring
aim of Wild Bill to be exactly pleased with
the idea that they had to meet him in a deadly
combat.

Like all Indians they would face any danger
where there was a. chance for life to be saved in
winning honor; i ut where the odds were against
them they were by no means anxious to accept
the alternative of a single combat with the noted
scout.

Each one hoped that he might win the Red
Star for his wife, at some future day, and an
encounter with Wild Bill seemed to threaten
that this hope would never be realized.

Still, what could they do after having taken
the property of Wild Bill, but ﬁght to hold it?

Therefore with a braggadocw air Panther

‘ Eve began to sing his valor, and Wolf Killer

followed suit, until one would have thought the
deeds done by them would make Wild Bill
tremble with dismay.

“ Better not about so much, red pards, fer er .

hes werk afore yer ter git away with ill
Hickok, and don’t you fool yerselfs thet yer
hain’t; but I hopes ye’ll come out at ther to o’
ther heap,” said Barney, deeply interest in
the intended combat. '

“How does the Red Star wish that I shall
meet her braves?” calmly asked Wild Bill.

.“Let the white chief choose, for he is one
against two,” ansWered the Red Star, evidently
not pleased with the proposed duel, yet not
wishing to show too great preference for the

pale-face scout, whom she 'rad learned to love

with all the devotion of her nature.

The truth is, she had led her warriors upon a
scouting expedition in the hope that she would
ﬁnd out something about Wild Bill, or see him,
as his departure from her village before spring
had fairly set in had given her great anxiety
regarding his fate.

A fortunate circumstance had brought her to
the aid of the scout, when in the power of his
outlaw foes, and now she feared that he was
about to face two of her best warriors in an en-

’ counter that might prove fatal to him.

Still she hid her feelings from the eyes of her
braves, and calm] told Wild Bill to select his-
own mode of ﬁghting.

“ Riﬂe, revolver. knife or arrow, are all the
same to me,” said Wild Bill, with an air of per~
feet indiﬂerence.

The two warriors surveyed the superb
physique of the white man, and came to the
conclusion that an encounter at close quarters
would result in their defeat, and by a glance at
each other, which was well understood, they
determined to depend upon their bows and ar\
rows, feeling that Wild Bill was less skilled in
the use of these weapons of savagery than in
anything else.

“The Wolf-Killer will ﬁght with the wee-
pons of the redmau,” said the warrior, pom-
pousl .

“ hat means the bow and arrow, or the
tomahawk?" Wild Bill returned, inquiringly,
while Barney put in:

"Or his legs, fer them is great weepins in
Injun-ﬁghtin’.”

“ The bow and arrow,” answered Wolf~
Kilian.

“ And the Panther Eye?" asked the scout.

“ The Wolf-Killer has spoken,” was the pom~
pous reply. .

“ Then the bow and arrow suit you as well?’

The warrior nodded.

“ The Red Star hears what her warriors any!”
and Wild Bill turned to the Indian girl, who
answered:

H Yes.”

“ Then let the Red Star bid her warriors

mount their ponies and the white chief will

ride his horse, and We will charge upon earth
other from a certain point, armed only with
bows and arrows, and allowed to ﬁre only after
the horses cross a certain line."

As he saw that the Indians did not exactly

understand hisJilan of the duel, Wild Bill was
about to ex 1 n it more fully, when Barney
broke in wit :

“If thet Wild William haio’t up ter some
leetle game, I serenely lies.”

“ There cannot be much game to play, Bar-
ney, where he ﬁghts both of them at the same
time. and with their own weapons.

“ I want them to kill him, but I do think he
is a fool not to take his revolvers, for no white
man is the Indian’s equal with the bow and
arrow.” responded Nick Nesbit.

Wild Bill heard the words of the outlaws, but
paying no attention to them very carefully ex—
plained his plan to Red Star and her braves,
who, instead of thinking them was a sinister
motive in it, as had Barney, agreed to the
terms with the idea that the scout was most

iberal. «
“The Wolf—Killer will ride the horse of the '

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14

WildﬂBi-ll, the Whirlwind of the West.

 
3

 
scout," said that worthy, still clinging to Black
Diamond.

To the surprise of all Wild Bill assented with
a smile, and said:

" I will ride that horse,” and he pointed to
the animal which had been ridden by Colorado
King. and afterward by Nick Nesbit. and which
was a horse he had known well at the post.

Panther Eye, determined not to lose his own
pony by an arrow-shot, selected the horse
which Barney had ridden, and the whole party
then moved to an open space in the valley, the
prisoners being carried along, as Barney said
he would not miss the fun for a. gold-mine.

“ Will the Red Star take the weapons of her
white brother from the Panther Eye?” asked
Wild Bill, as he saw that it was the intention of
that warrior to go into the fight with his arms,
which he still held possession of as did Wolf—
Killer of Black Diamond.

Without a word Red Star ste ped up to Pan-
ther Eye and took from hissa die-horn, where
it hung by a strap, the Winchester riﬂe of Wild
Bill, and then forced him to unbuckle the belt
of larms from about his waist and hand them
over to her.

“That are a squar‘ deal, an’ I wish I c’u’d
sympathize with y own color in this scrim-
mage, which I can t, seein’ as how, Bill, yer’d
hang me ef yer didn’t git kilt in ther picnic thet
are about ter take place,” said Barney.

Wild Bill turned upon him and answered:

“ It is, with you and Nesbit. Barney, bad
luck whether I live or die, for if the latter, you

- will be tortured to deith by the red-skins, and

if the former, I will do all I can to have you
hanged."

At this Barney was silenced, for he shuddered
at the thought of Indian tortures, while the
scout asked:

“ Will the Red Star lend her white brother
her how and arrows!”

Instantly the Indian girl unslung them from
her back and handed them to the scout, who
carefully examined each arrow and the bow,
remarking half-aloud to himself :

. “ As I made these for the girl, I can vouch for
their bein good.”

The Star, under directions from Wild

1 ‘Bill, now marked of! the stations of the com-

batants, and placed two lariats as the lines
which the horses must cross before an arrow
could be ﬁred.

In a low tone Wild Bill said something to Red
Star, who at once called the attention of the
three combatants to the fact that she would
shoot down an one of the three who ﬁred an
arrow before h 5 horse had crossed the line.

For this &urpose she took her stand, with
Wild Bill’s inchester in her hands, midway
between the lariats, but oﬂ' to one side.

The lines were about ﬁfty feet apart, and the
distance from them that each had to ride from
the starting-point was a hundred yards.

Mountin Colorado King’s horse, and armed
tar’s haw and quivsr of arrows, Wild
,Bill rode to his stand, the two warriors doing
likFWiseo

The signal was to be given by Red Star, by a
shot frOm the scout’s riﬂe, and then the combat-
ants were to charge upon each other.

Of course the one ﬁrst over the line could be-
gin ﬁring. and thus have the advantage, and
speed would be greatly desired.

Knowing what Black Diamond could do,
Wolf-Killer looked very conﬁdent of getting
sevsral arrows in upon the scout before he could
cross the line; but though the scout also knew
well the speed of his noble black, he did not
seem to feel anxious-regarding it, and quietly
awaited the signal.

Barney and Nick Nesbit had been given good
situations to view the combat, though they were
kept secure] bound. and back of them stood

' ' the braves 0 Red Star’s band, deeply interested

spectators of the coming struggle.
Red Star herself took her stand, and holding
themiﬂe ready, gave the signal by pulling the

trigger.
, ith the pad of smoke from the muzzle the
three horses bounded away as though shot mm
the riﬂe, and the two Indians uttered their ring-
! war-cries.
allowing it came the wild, deﬁant battle-cry
of the scout, thrice repeated, and the effect upon
Black Diamond seemed magical, for he be a to
bound into the air, plunge, shy, and str we to
throw his red-skin rider, who had all he could
detoer his seat, and from leading, at once
d ' nck behind Panther Eye.
as latter was laying his uirt u n his horse
with stinging earnestness, w lle ild Bill kept
his spurs driving into the side of the animal he
ood effect, sending him along over
, the snow, I ush and mad at a terriﬁc pace.
Faster than the horse ridden by Panther Eye,
the steed of Wild Bill crossed the lariat two
lengths before the pony of the warrior, and
than, with a sudden draw of the muscqu arm
that held the reins he was dragged back upon
his haunchss, and forced by the spurs, rose into
the air upon his hind feet.
While thus rearing and pswing the air wild-
ny crossed the line and s
at from Wild Bil ’s bow sent an arrow through

body of the warrior, whose own' barbed

v

 
shaft sunk deep into the neck of the steed ridden
by the scout, who had thus protected himself
by using his horse as a shield.

The next instant, 'ust as Panther Eye fell
from his pony, Blac Diamond, plunging and
wildly snorting, bounded across the line, his
warrior giving up all efforts to restrain him, to
use his weapons.

But again the steed of Wild Bill was dragged
up intoa rearin osition, and once more he
served as a shiel or the scout, catching the
arrow in his broad. muscular chest, while the
white man’s shaft was sent straight to the heart
of the red-skin.

Mortally wounded, the horse of Wild Bill sud-
denly sunk to the ground, while Black Dia-
mond’s rider having dropped dead from his
saddle, he trotted up to his master with a low
neigh of pleasure.

But hardly had the scout placed his hand af-
fectionately on the glossy hide of his noble horse,
who had, by his plunging, kept Wolf-Killer from
being first across the line, when it was evident
that more trouble was brewing, as the band of
braves, furious at the fall of two of their num-
ber, were talking together excitedly.

“That means mischief toward me; but ifI
can get my riﬂe and belt of arms from Red
Star, I will face the lot,” said Wild Bill, as he
saw the angry glances cast at him by the war-
riors.

Stepping quickly toward Red Star, he held
out his hand and asked:

“ Will the Red Star give me my weapons
now?"

It was evident that the Indian girl saw ril
to the scout brewing also, but she said, quic ly:

“ No, let the white chief remain unarmed.

“And let him see that his pale-face brothers
urge my braves on to kill him.”

“ That is true, those two outlaws are putting
them up to this,” muttered Wild Bill as he saw
tBarney talking in earnest tones to the Blackfoot

raves.

 
CHAPTER XXVII.
man HTAR A'l‘ BAY.

IT was with the most thrilling interest that
both Barney and Nick Nesbit, the captive
outlaws, gazed u on the duel between Wild
Bill and the two lackfoot warriors.

Barney, ever cunning himself, felt assured
that the scout had formed some plan to out-
wit his foes, when he selected bows and ar-
gows as the weapons to be used in the com-

at.

Closely watching, he no sooner heard the
war-cry of Wild Bill. and saw the strange
actions of Black Diamond, which “'olf-Killcr
rode, than he dctcctcd how the scout meant
to have at least one Indian late at the meet-
ing.

Then, seeing him draw the horse. which
Colorado King had ridden. up on his hind
legs, be detected how Wild Bill intcndcd to
shield himself from the arrows of his fm-s.

Colorado King’s horse had been traincd by
his master to rear up and walk for a long dis-
tance u on his hind legs, and this Wild Bill
knew, encc his selection of the animal,
knowing that he could use him to protect
himself.

. No one ,clso but Barney observed these two

little acts of strategy upon the part of Wild
Bill, and be determined that they should at
once be exposed to the Indians, that thereby
he might curry favor with them.

Quickly he told them that Wild Bill had
given his horse a signal to act badly with
Wolf-Killer, and that he had sacriﬁced the
animal he rode to the arrows of his foes.

The warriors of course saw the affair as
Barney intended they should, and were de-
termined that the scout should not gloat over
his Victory. angry as they were at the fall of
1wo of their best braves at his hands, while
he had escaped unscathed.

Stepping forward, as Wild Bill approached
Red Star and asked for his arms, a young
warrior said boldly:

“ The white chief is a snake in the grass.
IIe (loos not ﬁght fair.“

“ This comes well from the lips of one of
a race who ii ht only by strategy and cun-
ning,” said ngld Bill.

But his meaning was not mastered by the
Indian, who in other words could not see that
the “cap ﬁtted " in his case and that be con-
demned another for just the acts that he
would be proud of, and Wolf~Killer and
Panther Eye, too, had they thought 8 dodge
upon the scout could have been p eyed.

As for Red Star, she could onl see that
Wild Bill had met and vanquish his foes,
and she was determined to have no more
trouble.

She saw that Barney and Nick Nesbit were

 
urging her braves on against Wild Bill, and
she intended that the affair should end, so she
said, addreSsing the young warrior who had
accused the scout of being a snake in thc
grass:

“ Fighting Crow is a fool, and should stay
in the tcpecs with the squaws, if his tongnv
talks like a pappoose."

This was a terrible cut from the lips of lil('
girl he loved, and Fighting Crow fairly shiv-
crcd; but his eyes ﬂashed and he answered in
angr tones:

“ hc Red Star loves the pale-face warrior
and would turn her back upon her own peo-
pie to (protect him."

Wil Bill glanced quickly at the girl, to
see the effect of the young brave‘s words, and
noted the ghastly hue spread over her dark
face, so natural to the Indian when deeply
moved.

Stepping up to the brave she said hoarsely:

“Let the Fighting Crow turn his back up-
on the Rcd Star and go his way.

“But never enter again the village of his
people, for he. has thrown dirt in the ears of
the Girl Queen of the Blackfeet.”

This was a tcrriblc blow for the oung war—
rior, for he loved Red Star with a l the earn-
estness of his savage nature, and he had no
desire to give her up.

But it meant morc, for it exiled him from
his own race, and sent him forth a wanderer
to seek a home in another tribe.

That the young queen had a right to thus
exile one who oﬁcrcd her deadly insult, be
well know, and that she was in earnest no
one could doubt that gazed into her passion-
writhing face.

His love, his jealousy, hatred for the scout,
and sorrow at his scntencc all mingled to-
gether in the emotion that stirred his bosom,
and he stood like a bronze statue, his eyes
ﬁxed upon the ground.

He had one chance to escape the dread ﬁat,
b Indian custom, and all the braves watched
him to see if he would take advantage of that
chance.

It was for him to throw off his warrior
plumage, acknowledge himself as a boy who
had not won his spurs, be» to be forgiven
and allowed to start again in the tribe as a
young buck aspirant for the honors of a
brave.

Would he do this?

(‘ould a brave such as young Fighting
(Trow had often proven himself to be, so
humblc himself as to drop down the ladder of
f umc. have his deeds of valor washed out
against him, and begin at. the bottom round
again?

Rod Slur had always liked the young war—
rior. and she hoped that he would be content
to eat humble-pic, rather than to allow his
pride to carry him forever out of his tribe.

But she had uttered the words of doom
against him and she would not rclrncl.

Her father. Thunder Cloud. had been a
great chief, and hcr unclc, Moon Burner,
was the mighty medicine-chief of the tribe.
so she had it in her to be ﬁrm.

Besides, on two separate occasions she had
saved the tribe from destruction, by going
upon secret scouts and detecting the inten-
tion of their foes, and this had made her their
queen, and given her‘ii power equal to that
possessed by her father and the medicine—
chief, her uncle.

The silence was unbroken for a full mo—
ment, and then, tirin of it, Red Star asked,
as she turned her ﬂ ing eyes upon the fun-
of Fightin Crow:

“ Does t m Fighting Crow hear?”

The face of the. young warrior was ruin d
from its bent attitude, the eyes looked squm c.
1y into those of the Indian girl, and there Was
no humblencss in the tones that said:

“ The Fighting Crow has ears.

“ He heard the words of the Red Star.

“He goes alOnc into the mountains, and
upon the plains, for he is a warrior without
a tribe, 9. man without kindred.

“ He turns his back upon his people, and
upon the aves of his fathers.

“ IIe WI 1 let his tongue forget the tongue
of his mother, and his eyes forget the faces
of those he loved.

“He will bury in his heart the memo? of
the Red Star, and give the war-cry of en-
a.an to the braves she may put upon his
trai .

“ The Red Star has ears, and She has heard
the words of the Fighting Crow. “

21.: in:

v

j “3 ans-cams  -.*.

‘ Wild 13111, theHWhilwindgofﬂte".

 
w-

\Vithout another word he turned. bounded
upon the back of his pony and rode slowly
away from the group that in silence watched
his going.

As he disappeared in the thicket, without f
once looking behind him, Red Star turned;

her gaze upon her braves. and asked stcruly:
“ Are my young men satisfied that the
white chief fought the Wolf-Killer and Pan-
ther Eye as warrior meets warrior. ordo they
wish to follow like fools on the trail of the
Fighting Crow?”
It was evident that the Blackfoot braves

were bullied into submission by the young ‘

Indian girl.

They had demurred, and the words of
Fighting Crow had brought her to bay, with
a result that rebounded upon himself n10st
disastrously.

In utter silence they received her question,
not one caring to measure strength with her.

Seeing this, Barney and Nick Nesbit were
in despair, and kept urging the warriors on
by whispers, but without effect.

From the faces of her braves the e es of
Red Star rovod to Barney and Nick esbit,
and instantly she turned to Wild Bill, hand-
ing him a revolver from her own belt, while
she said:

“ Those pale-faces are worse foes to the
white chief than are my people.

“ Let him kill them 1’

This was most startling adviee both to
Wild Bill and the outlaws; but as though he
had decided to end their lives at her sugges-
tion, he took the revolver and stepped in front
of the two men.

Both turned deadly pale, and the teeth of
Nick Nesbit clicked together like a telegraph
instrument at work.

They knew that they well deserved death
at the hands of the scout. and with such an
open invitation from Red Star to kill them,

in the pastime an
reers forever.

“ Oh, Bill, don't shoot. us!" pleaded Nick
Nesbit.

“ Shoot and be durned to you, Wild Bill,
if you so please, fer shootin’ are better dyin’
than hangin’ an’ Injun torturin’,” boldly said
Barney.

“ Barney, you are too ncrvy a man to shoot
like a dog, and '01:, Nick Nesbit, are too
crin 'ng a cowar to ﬁre upon.

" "ll spare you both, and if the red-skins
don’t help you to their Happy Hunting-
Grounds soon, why, some day in the future
I may yet catch and hang you."

With these words \Vild 'Bill turned away“

and said:

“ N0, Red Star, I am no coward to kill a
man who is wholly at my mercy.

“ The prisoners are yours, and you can do

as you please with them. while I will go my ;

way alone."

“Will the Red Star see the white chief no
more?” asked the girl, in a low tone.

“ Yes, some (19. ; but let her tell her peo-
ple that the pale- aces are her friends. and
that their warriors will follow with her
braves the trail of the Sioux.”

“ The Red Star will tell them.

“Now let the white chief go to his peo-

le," was the answer, as she ave over the
belt of arms and rifle of Wil Bill to him,
and which she had withheld, fearing that if
he believed he was going to be attacked and
used them, she could not stem the ﬁerce
fur of her braves a ainst him.

Wild Bill thank her, said a Word in fare-
well to her warriors. and springing upon the
back of Black Diamond, rode away, the
curses of Barney and Nick Nesbit follow-
ing him as long as he could hear them.

 
CHAPTER XXVIII.
FIGHTING caow HEEKS‘ALLIES.

WE left Lieutenant llarry Lockwood and
his little band of troopers in sore distress.

They had camped without ﬁre or food.
were chilled through, the lieutenant and
several of his men and horses wounded, and
without a guide knew not the way back to
the post.

The night passed in suffering. and with
the mornin they started upon their way at
random, amost, for the young ofﬁcer was
forced to confess himself at a loss to find the

wa .
Wearin they plcdded along. hungry and

‘ attack our camp?
H No H

iin misery, and without the knowledge to
' cheer them that they were going right.
i Again, toward evening, a halt was called,

foodless camp, for, in spite of the arduous

anv game.

and huddled together for warmth under
the shelter of a cliff, when the soldier acting
as sentinel called out:

“ There is an Indian in sight. sir."

4 feet and approached the sentinel, who point.-
ed out an Indian horseman quietly survey-
ing the camp.

Seeing that he was observed, the Indian
dismounted. staked his pony out, and then,

bow and arrows and scalping-knife which he
carried.

“ He seems to wish us to think he is peace-
abl inclined, Thornton; but why so, when
he is of the Blackfoot tribe, I cannot under-

his sergeant, who had approached him.
“He is a Blackfoot. sir, that is certain,
and his peace ways may mean treachery.
i “Shall I send a bullet after him, sir‘!" re-
turned the sergeant, bringing his carbine
round ready for use.
“No, not until we are assured that lltgls‘
{ treacherous.

“ I will motion for him to advance, and I
I will meet him."

“No, lieutenant: let me go, sir. for you
‘can hardly walk,” returned the sergeant,
i and unheeding a remonstrance from his
| wounded and fagged-out ofﬁcer, the brave
g soldier stepped quickly forward, threw his

 
j carbine at his feet, then drew his sword and ;
1 stuck it into the round, while he remarked: ‘
they feared he mi ht be tempted to indulge : I
thus end their sinful ea- =

“ My revolver ’ll stick to jUst for luck.”
It was just sunset, and the act of the ser-

geant was plainly visible to the Indian. who ;

at once started toward the camp, his hands

raised above his head, the palms toward his 1

foes.

Instantly Sergeant Thornton walked to-'

ward the red-skin, his hand likewise raised.

ble interest.

The Indian came boldly forward, and‘

meeting the sergeant, stretched forth his
hand, with the one word:

“ How ‘1"

“ How oursclf,” returned the sergeant,
grasping t w Indian’s hand warmly, and in a
‘ way that would have made it hard for him
3 to release the grip, had he attempted treach-
erv.

“ Me Fighting (‘row," said the warrior, in
fair English.

” You are, are ou? W'ell, I am Sergeant.
Sam Thornton, o the U. S. Cavalry, at your
service for a ﬁght or afrolic; so what are
your intentions?“ was the blunt response of
the sergeant.

“ Me friend of pale-face warrior.”

g “ Oh, you are?"
‘ The Indian nodded.

“ You 'are a Blackfoot?"

” No, me was Blackfoot brave, but me
love le-face.

“ ant to go to white man camp."

f “ You are justthe red-skin we are looking
or. '

is?”
“Yes, me know.”
“ Can you take, us there?“
“ When sun come again.”
“ Ah. that means to-morrow."
Fighting Crow nodded assent.
“ re you alone?” '
A in a nod.
“ o reds lying around to ﬁre on us, or

“ Why did you leave your people?“

“Fig ting row love Red Star, Girl
Queen of Blackfoot tribe.

“ She no love him; tell him to o."

“ Ah! the truth in a nutshell, and the
same old story of love at the bottom of all,
tolday an In an.

“ ell, we I. a woman in the case, even
in the Black Hills." moralized the sergeant,
who had suffered from the tender attach—
ment himself-in the ast. -

But to the Indian ie said:

v

 
and the party went into another tireless, :

exertions of several of the men during the ;
I day, they had been unable to bring down

Ilardly had they staked their horses out,

At once llarry LockW()odstaggei‘e(l to his ‘

with a great. flourish laid down the riﬂe, ‘1

stand," said Harry Lockwood, addressing:

and all watched the meeting with considera- f

“ Do you know where the pale-face camp ,

“ So you levanted, and wish to get white—
, washed?"
i Fighting Crow shook his head.

“I mean that you would like to renounce
; the. devil and all his works and become a gal—
vanized white man?

“ That is, an Indiano-Americano?”

; Still the red-skin shook his head, and the
sergeant continued:

“ To simplify matters, you Wish to be-
come the friend of the pale-face?" '

(i y'ps.“

; “ Good! I‘ll introducc you to my com-
mander, and if he suspects you of playing a
! little game, he will hang your scalp in his
, belt and let you live to see it there. ‘

l “ Come! the Fighting Crow is welcome
i to the wigwams of his brothers, ﬁguratively
speaking, for devil a Wigwam have we.

“ And that reminds me to ask if the.
,1 Sighting Crow has the means of striking a
‘ re?”

i The Indian nodded assent, and the ser-
geant continued:

“ Has be anything to
clothes?"

“The Fighting Crow has food for his
pale-face brothers," and he pointed to his
pony, on one side uf which hung a leg of
venison.

. “ The Fighting Crow shall be made happy

I seeing his pale-face brothers eat. his venison
steaks.

! “Let him come with me, and bring his

horse.”

I The Indian seemed pleased. and to show

. his good intentions motioned to the ser-

1 geant to carry his weapons, while he led his

r horse.

Thus the two went to the camp, and Harry

i Lockwood was told the story of the red-skin

and gave him warm welcome.

To gain favor with his new friends, Fight-
§ ing Crow at once set to work and built two
roaring camp-tires, after which he handed
over his leg of venison to the hungry sol-
diers. who broiled and ate it with an energy
that showed how sadly they stood in need
. of food, and the red-skin came in for many
hearty thanks from the lost band of troopers.

CHAPTER XXIX.
A TRAITOR.

WITH thankfulness at havin secured the
services of a guide who could ead them to
the post, and having partaken of a good.
square meal of venison, while they had ﬁres
to warm themselves by, the troopers laid
down to sleep for the night, Sergeant
Thornton volunteering to stand uard.

Though they trusted the In ian, still it
behooved them to keep a watch on him, and
he was assigned a place by the ﬁre near
Harry Lockwood, who was a very light
sleeper, and with the red-skin upon is
mind, and his wounds paining him. would
awaken at the slightest movement of any
one in the camp.

To further convince his white allies of his
good faith toward them, Fighting Crow had
dressed the wounds of all of them, placing
upon them the bruised leaves of a shrub
I growing near, and it certainly soothed the
a pain.

‘ Ile had taken his robe and blanket, and
, laid down in the spot assigned him without
‘ a word, and soon appeared sound asleep.

3 With little faith in red-skins, Sergeant
Thornton had taken his stand at a place
i where he‘could obtain a view of the camp, ,
= and also command the approach of any one

i coming up the hillside toward them.

 
eat about his

 
His supper had made him drowsy, but
with the knowledge that Fighting Crow
might be treacherous. and have p ayed a.
game of friendship to lure sus icron while
his red comrades crept up on t e camp, he 
l shook oﬁ the feeling of sleep, and devoted
lhimself to the clearest watching for any-

thing of a suspicious nature that might turn

u .
’ pEver and anon he would turn his eyes
upon the form of the Indian in camp, and
once or twice seemed to think it had disap

 
peered.

But a walk toward the ﬁre showed him
ithat it was imagination only, as Fighting
' Crow seemed to be sleeping the sleep of the

“its?” gusto hi passed d da hgh

n tus enigt ,an y' t.
dawned without any alarm, or act of trench
ery upon the part. of their red ally.

 
Wu.
.3

ii?!

 
16

This circumstance at once raised Fighting
Crow stock above par in the eyes of the
troopers, and almost every doubt of him
vanished.

' The breakfast cleared the bones of the leg

Wild B

 
of venison clean, and refreshed by their rest. ,

their night of warmth and food, the troopers

started out upon the trail to the post, Fight- ,

ing (Trow leading off with the air of one
who knew the way there as he did to his
own village.

For a couple of hours he led the troopers ‘
along, as fast as their hungry, tired horses ‘
could go, and then the trail went through a 1

deep canyon.

But suddenly a riﬂe-crack was heard, and t

Fighting Crow nearly sprung from his sad-
dle, while from a hight afar off came the
ringing words:

“ Hold, Lockwood! you are being led into
a tra !”

Al eyes turned in the direction from
whence the voice had come, and beheld com-

ing down the steep hillside, a man leading a i

horse.

“Wild Bill!"

In One wild chorus the name broke from
the lips of the troopers, who, intent upon
their discovery, had not observed that
Fighting Crow had ur ed his horse into the
thicket upon one side 0 the canyon, and dis-
appeared.

“ Where‘s the.
tenant Lockwood.

. “ There he gocsl" shouted Sergeant Thorn-
ton, pointing to the red-skin, lying over on
the opposite side of his horse, and urging
him at great bounds up the steep hillside, op-
posite the one which 'Wild Bill was descend-
mg.

“ Kill him!"

The command came from Wild Bill, but
Lieutenant Lockwood called out, as his men
drew u ) their carbines:

“Hold! do not fire upon him, for lliekok
does not know that he is friendly!"

This caused the soldiers to halt in theirf

intention, and again W'ild Bill shouted:
“ Fire at him!
“ Do not allow him to escape."

But the soldiers dared not obey without ;

orders from their commander, and seeing
that the Indian was escaping, Wild Bill
halted upon the hillside, threw his riﬂe to
his shoulder and ﬁred. .

But though the pony was seen to stagger,
he still kept on in his ﬂight.

Again the scout ﬁred, and the pony stum-
bled badly.

Then a third shot, a fourth, and the
matchless Winchester rattled forth its dead-
ly music in rapid discharges.

Dowu went the staggering pony, while
Fighting Crow, springing to is feet, darted
on up the hill with the speed of a deer.

Again the riﬂe of the scout spoke; but the
distance was too great, and the red-skin was
seen to disappear, apparently unhurt, over
the ridge of the hill.

' Several times had Lieutenant Lockwood
called out to Wild Bill not to ﬁre, and that
the Indian was an ally and friend.

But the scout had unheeded the command,
and soon after rode into the Canyon with the
words:

“ Quick! out of this, Lieutenant Lock-
wood, for that red devil was leading you in-
to an hmbush at the other end of this can-

“ Can thisbe true, Bill?" asked the amazed
oﬂicer.

“ I will tell you what I know as we ride
alon , sir.

“" uickl push your horses for all they
have In them, as there are Indians not three
miles from you, and the post is twenty miles

awa ."

There was no hesitancy now, and the
troopers followed after the scout in hot haste,
be leading them back on the trail which they
had come.

“ Come. Hickok, tcll mewhat this means?"
said Lieutenant LoekWood, when Wild Bill
had led them by a narrow ravine out of the
canyon and into a valley, which he recog-
nized as being only a few hours' ride from
the post.

“ It means, sir, that the Indian you
trusted was Fighting Crow, one of the
bravest and most cunning youn warriors of
the Blackfoot tribe," answered ild Bill.

“So he told me, and more, we owe our

lmlian‘!"‘called out Lieu-t

lives to him." said llarry Lockwood, warm-
, ly, and anxious to befriend his red ally.
> “You would have owed your deaths to
him had he led on through the canyon.”
“But how 0 you know this, Hickok,
against facts which I have to substantiate his
friendship?"
‘ “ I know by never failing signs which a
borderxnan can read, lieutenant, and I will
tell you them.
“ Day before yesterday I was in the Black
foot camp which you attacked."
“Ila! is that so, Bill?
, “ I was told by one of the men that he
i thought he saw a white man bound lying by
l

l
r
l
l

the ﬁre.”

“There were three white men there, sir,
‘ two besides myself, and I will tell you who
I the were." _

'Ilhen, in a few words, Wild Bill sketched
I the story of his adventures among the out-
‘ laws, and what had followed after his rescue
‘ by Red Star.
“By heavens! you have indeed escaped
; wonderful peril, Bill.

“ But you say the Fighting Crow was

driven from his tribe by the girl?"

“ Yes, sir.”
, “ Then wh should he not. be most willing
; to ally himse f with us?“
i “Because he had already formed an al-
; liance with others.
“ The truth is, I followed his trail, expect-
: ing he intended to ambush me.

“I trailed him to a camp of Sioux, and
‘ saw him, from a distance, make friends with
them.

“ He had already been on your trail, and
leaving the Sioux camp, he at once started
upon it again, and I understood his pur-
pose."

” And what was that?"

“ He had told the Sioux he would lead
vou into an ambush, and this would make
i him solid with them.

‘ “ 1 set out to follow him, when I found
that. I had lost my cartridges, so I had to go
baek upon my own trail in search of them.

“This delayed me. and finding you gone.
and the course the red-skin was leading you,
l set out to head him off, for it was directly
into the Sioux camp."

“My noble Bill, we owe you our lives;
but hark!" and the otiicer drew rein, while
Wild Bill said coolly:

"The (how has run to the Sioux camp
and put them on our trail, so we will have
warm work, as there are half a hundred
warriors in the baud.“

CHAPTER XXX.
(urAsED BY srovx.

“ Post; on, lieutenant, as you are now go-
ing, while I give those reds a check.

“ Do not s are the spur, either.”

It was Wi (1 Bill who gave the order to
Lieutenant Harry Lockwood, when they
discovered that they were being pursued by
the Indians.

“ But, Bill, I will not leave you to ﬁght
alone," said the oung officer.

“Nonsense, lieutenant, for I am well
mounted; Black Diamond is not xjaded as
your horses are, and I have a riﬂe here
which will do better service than all the car-
bines your boys have.

“ I will soon follow, so push on hard!"

Thus urged, IIarr Lockwood held on his
way, while Wild Bi lhalted behind a bowl-
der and awaited the. coming of the Indians,
who were yelling like demons, conﬁdent of
their power to overtake the little band of
troopers and easily annihilate them.

To follow upon the trail of the soldiers
the must brin themselves under the ﬁre
of ild'Bill at Tong range, as soon as they
left the heavy timber of the hills.

Watehin r closely, Wild Bill soon discov-
ered them ash into view.

First came a large white horse. and upon
his back was a Sioux, in all the feathers and
para hernalia of a chief.

“ knew that they must be the Sioux
band, encamped at the other end of the can-
yon; but I do not see the Blackfoot among
them,” he said, as two-score of warriors, all
seemingly well mounted, dashed into sight,
following their chief.

“I wonder if JI hit Fighting Crow?

“I must have done so, or he certainl
would have been with these Sioux; but he s
not there.

 
ill; PheWhiﬂWiﬁd PE?-WeSt-._.

 
“‘7 . A __. __._  __.... .__J

“ It was a long way off that 1 shot at him.
and he was jumping about like a jack-rab—
bit; but I guess I hit him, as I do not see
him.

“ Now I’ll try a long-range shot on yon-
der Sioux chief.”

As he spoke Wild Bill brought his riﬂe
round for use, adjusted the long-range
sights, and threw the butt to his shoulder.

An instant he ran his eye along the sight,
and then his ﬁnger touched the trigger.

The crack of the rifle came, and a second
after the chief on the white horse was seen
to throw u his hands, reel, and nearly fall
from his sa dle.

“ Ha, by Heaven! He is held in the sad-
dle by a man behind him!” cried Wild Bill,
as he saw a pair of arms clasped about the
waist of the Sioux chief.

Again he threw the riﬂe to his shoulder,
and as the Indians had halted in a group, he
had a better aim.

Once more the weapon cracked, and, as
the large white horse sprung forward, the
chief dropped from his back to the ound.

“ The Blackfoot was behind im, by
Heaven!" and the scout broke forth in his
ringing war-cry, while the Indians, unheed-
ing Fi hting Crow‘s urging them on, broke
in wil confusion and rode back to the shel-
ter of the timber.

Seeing that he was left alone, and wishin
to distinguish himself before his new—foun
friends, the Sioux, Fightin Crow, rode to
where the body of the chie lay, dismounted
coolly. and threw him across the saddle,
giving the animal at the same time a blow
which started him for the timber at a gallop.

A yell of admiration from the Sioux greet-
ed this act of daring, and Wild Bill, who had
mounted to ride on, turned to see the cause.

" l‘ll quicken your pace. Mr. Crow,“he
S‘jild. as he raised his riﬂe to his shoulder,

But Black Diamond was a triﬂe restless,
being anxious to follow on after the troopers,
Fighting (Irow Was moving, though in a
slow, deﬁant walk. and the distance was
great, and increasing at every slip the red-
skin toos.

Under these disadvantageous circumstan-
ces shot after shot ﬂashed from the scouts
rifle without effect upon the daring red-skin,
although the bullets were seen to spatter the
mud upon him and from about his feet.

“You‘re a cool one, Crow, and will yet
run the Sioux tribe if you keep on as you‘ve
started," muttered Wild Bill, as he gaVe
again one. of his aWe-innpiring war-cries,
and rode on after-Lieutenant Lockwood and
his men. .

Ilardly had he started before he saw Fight—
ing Crow dash out of the timber. mounted
upon the Sioux chief‘s white horse. while at
his back Were a score of warriors.

“ He alread leads them! Well. if he
crowds me 1'] send him to 'oin his Sioux
ally, whom the rest of the and are now
burying back in the timber,” and Wild Bill
rode at a swift pace, to again seek a good
halting-place, where he would be sheltered
if the red-skins charged him.

A ravine was soon come to, and here ﬁe
again halted, to once more turn upon t e
Indians a few shots from his riﬂe.

He ﬁred half a dozen shots with wonder-
ful rapidity and without dismounting, and
could not suppress a yell of triumph as he
brought down the white horse which Fi ht-
ing Crow rode, and dropped an under c ief
from his pony.

But Fightm Crow was upon his feet in
an instant, an springing u on the back of
the animal, which death ha just caused his
rider to desert, he again urged the Sioux to
follow him in a charge.

But that death-dealing riﬂe was too much
for their nerves. and they hung back so that
the Blackfoot had another Sioux warrior to
bear from tlie ﬁeld under the ﬁre of the
scout.

"That Blackfoot bears a charmed life,
and I've but served to promote him,” mut-
tered Wild Bill, as he again rode after the
retreating soldiers.

Coming up with them, he laughingly call-
ed out:

“ Killed two, lieutenant; but as I have no
scalps to show, of course you don’t believe

me. .

“ Yes, Bill, for you are not one of the kind
who has to bring in a scalp to show that he
has seen a dead Indian.

 
"But are they coming?"

“ I think not, air, for they are getting too
near the fort; but your Blackfoot pard is the
IIigh-Mueky-Muck of the band now." and
Wild Bill told how Fighting (.‘row had be-
haved, while he added:

“ That young warrior means business. and
he‘ll soon make the Blackfeet weep for their
queen. if I mistake not."

“ You think he will Seek an opportunity
to kill the girl?"

“ No, lieutenant, he will seek an opportu-
nity to capture her and make her his wife;
but she has white blood in her, and will
show her claws in such a way that he will
ﬁnd her a hard shrew to tame; but see, yon-
der in the valley flies the ﬂag over Camp
Comfort, so that we are safe.“

At sight of the Stars and Stripes, though
yet far away, ﬂoating over the post, the
troopers burst forth in a long. ringing cheer,
in which their ofﬁcer and \Vild Bill readily
joined them, and an hour after they were
Welcomed with loud hurrahs as they rode
into the arrison of Camp Comfort. for, see-
ing Wil Bill in their midst, the soldiers felt
that Lieutenant Lockwood had accomplished
his mission, which was to ﬁnd the scout, for
they knew not then that the scout had found
the troopers.

CHAPTER XXXI.
THE LOST TRAIL.

AFTER the hardshi s and rils through
which they had passe , \Nild ill and Black
Diamond certainly needed and deserved rest.

But the scout was no man to think of him-
self when work was to be done, and he quick-
ly made his report to Colonel Burr, who lis-
tened to all with the deepest attention.

“ And vou think that Colorado King is
dead, Hickok?" asked the colonel.

“ How can it be otherwise, colonel, after
the terriﬁc leap that he took from the
bridge?"

“ llow deep was the ravine t"

“ About a hundred feet, I should judge,
sir.

“ And the bottom ‘2"

“ Was a foaming torrent, with rocks here,
' nd there."

“ Well, then I shall count him as dead,
and with Colorado King out of the way, we
will have little to dread from the outlaw
band.”

“ True, colonel. the Buckskin Bravos will
have no such leader as was Colorado King;
but then they are a brave lot of men and
should be looked after at once, while the
are demoralized by the loss of their chie ,
and those I killed. not to speak of the two
who are captives to the Blackfoot Queen,
and will be a picnic for the tribe when they
get them there."

“ One of those fellows, from your account,
is a daring man."

“ Yes, colonel; Barney, they call him. and
he is a plucky one.

“ In fact, were he to escape from the red-
skins I do not doubt but that he would make
a leader only second to what Colorado King
was. ’

“There is no danger of his escape."

“ He is a slippery fellow. sir, and there is

 
no telling; but, should he do so. it would

squelch him to ﬁnd that the Buckskin
Bravos had been wiped out, and he would
be left without a band to work with."

“ Then you suggest that I send a force at
once to the retreat of the Bravos?"

“Yes, air. before they haVe had time to
rall . for Dqu Scott, an army deserter, is
wit them, and he would not make a bad
commander. "

“ But you are too much used up to go off
again for a day or two, Hickok."

“No, Colonel Burr. I am readv to start
within the hour; but 1 shall give Black Dia-
mond a rest, and ride another horse."

“ Well, Hickok, I will send Captain Ames
at once with his company, and you can lead
them.

“As you need a good horse take my roan.
for he wants exercise."

Wild Bill thanked the colonel and depart-
ed to make his arrangements for the march.

An hour after he rode out of the garrison
by the side of Captain Ames, who had at his
back ﬁfty cavalrymen, while Harry Lock-
wood waved them farewell with a sad face
at the thought that he could not go on ac
count of his wounds.

rBill,

 
the Whirlvziad, ,0? it}?

 
The ﬁrst act of Wild Bill was to strike the
trail they had made in coming into the
camp, and then follow it to the spot where
he had ﬁred his two fatal shots at the Sioux.

Taking the trail of the Indians from here
he led the troopers rapidly along until night-
fall, and being near the camp of their foes a
halt was called.

Then the scout went off on foot, and an
hour after returned with the information
that the Indian camp was well situated for a
surprise, and that they seemed to little dread
an attack from the soldiers.

Mounting his men once more the captain
set off on the march, and \Vild Bill led them
to a spot where the camp-tires of the Indians
were visible.

It had come on to snow, and the night was
dark and cold; but the troopers had work be-
fore if: m that. would soon warm them up,
Wild iiill told them, and with a cheer that
aroused the Indian sentinel, from the shelter
of a friendly tree, where he had retreated
from the storm, they charged down upon the
camp.

Then came the clatter of hoofs. the snort-
ing of horses, cheers of the soldiers, and
startling cries and war-whoops of the red-
skins.

Next came the rattle of revolvers, and the
camp was sur rised, the battle was begun and
quickly ende , for seeing such a large force
charging down upon them the red-skins at
once darted to the timber and rocks for shel-
ter; leaving a dozen dead about the camp-
ﬁres.

A trooper had fallen, and several had been
too severely wounded to proceed, so with the
captured ponies of the red-skins Captain
Ames at once sent them off to the fort under
an escort of ten men and a guide, with or-
ders to push right throu h with all haste.

Camping about the Int ian ﬁres the remain-
der of the command passed the night, while
the fugitive Sioux in small parties were seek-
ing safety in ﬂight.

Several times had Wild Bill caught sight of
Fighting Crow, and he it was that had killed
the one trooper slain, and done all in his
power to make the Sioux stand ﬁrm.

But, though Wild Bill had gotten a seem-
ingly fair shot at the Blackfoot, he had not
brought him down, but saw him dragr a cav-
alryman from his horse, mount. and dash
away.

At dawn the troopers pressed on for the
retreat of the Buckskin Bravos in the face of
a cold, driving rain, into which the snow.
storm of the night before had turned.

All through the day they continued their
dreary march through ice. mud and swollen
streams, until just before nightfall they
reached the vicinity of the bridge.

As it touched the horizon the sun burst
through the clouds, which soon after drifted
away, leaving the skies clear and twinkling
with stars.

Then to the bridge Wild Bill led the men,
and crossing on foot cautiously ﬁrst, he saw
that it had not been tampered with, as he
had feared it would be.

With much tre idation men and horses
crossed the frail- ookin span between the
two banks, awed by the Idizzy hight, and the
roarin r of the waters beneath their feet, and
all 1e their animals over. where Wild Bill
had boldly ridden across, to the admiration
of the soldiers, whose idol he was. .

Then on the way to the retreat he led them
past the scene of his capture of the guard by
playin ghost, on by the spot where he had
himsel seen the sergeant deserter, Duff Scott,
playin specter, and thence up the canyon
wluch 0 new led to the stronghold, though
he had never been there.

But up the canyon they went, ﬁnding no
guard, and then search provin r in vain, they
were forced to camp until day ight.

Not daring to light ﬁres, the men rolled
themselves in their blankets and sought rest
and what comfort they could ﬁnd until the
dawn called them to their saddles.

Then Wild Bill led them on once more,
and the deserted camp of the Buckskin
Bravos was found.

It was a large log cabin, built to serve
as a garrison and fort; but it was utterly de-
serted, and had been evidently for a couple
of days.

The log stables were near by, with a shel-
tered way ltmding to them, but they, too,
Were desolate.

e

 
West.

1?

“ Now, Bill, what is to be done?" said
(‘aptain Amt-s.

“ The birds have flown, sir, and the storm
of yesterday has utterly destroyed all trace
of them, so their trail is lost,“ was the reply.

“ This is too bad; but our trip was by no
means fruit-less, as we gained one ﬁght with
the Sioux, so let us return to the fort, as this

 
spring weather is enough to make all the men

sick,” returned the captain.

As the trail of the Buckskin Bravos was
utterly lost, there was nothing to do but to
retrace their way, and once more the bridge
was crossed in safety.

“Captain Ames, 1 have an idea that the
Bravos have not deserted these Hills, or they
Bever would have left that bridge,” said Wild

ill.

“ Then 1 will have it destroyed."

“ Oh, no, sir, for it may be as useful to us
at some time as to them.

“ But as they have disappeared, I shall
take the time for a run East to the States for
a couple of weeks."

“ What! you go East, Hickok ?" asked the
ofﬁcer, in sur rise.

“ Yes, sir, or I have a duty to rform
which I cannot neglect lon er, as gave a
dyin woman my pledge to o it.”

“ h, yes, you refer to the poor woman
whom Colorado King killed, and of whom
the colonel told me in conﬁdence?"

“ Yes, sir, I have her gold hidden in the
Hills, and I shall go and tell her daughter of
the death of her parents, and ask her to send
some one here in the summer to whom I can
deliver the dust."

“ You are a noble fellow, Bill, and success
attend you; but if the heiress is pretty, get
her to return with you for her gold. as there
are half a dozen ofﬁcers who would like to
look after it for her,” said Captain Ames,
with a light laugh.

“ If she cares to return with me, captain,
I will gladly take her to her mother’s grave,
poor irl, while, if she has not already a
lover, can recommend a splendid fellow at
the post who would make her a rood hus-
band—Lieutenant Lockwood. for 1nstance.“'
and Wild Bill looked slyly at the handsome
bachelor captain, who was nearing two-score
years too rapidly for his own comfort.

(‘IIAPTER XXXII.
ANOTHER Los'r TRAIL.

THE spring certainly opened up with con-
siderable exeitement at Camp Comfort, from
the unexpected return of Wild Bill, whom
all had believed dead, to the return of Cap-
tain Ames with his party, to re ort the ﬂight
of the Buckskin Bravos from t eir retreat.

There was regret for the men who had lost
their lives, but the feeling that they had met
but a soldier’s fate.

There was sympathy for the wounded.
and a general hope that the band of Buck-
skin Bravos had been driven from the trails
to the Hills, by the death of Colorado King,
and would no longer be heard of in those

iarts.

I As for Wild Bill, feeling assured there
would be little service done, either in scout-
in , or the movements of emigrants and
miners into the Hills until late in the spring.
he was anxious to go to Chicago and keep
his pledge made to poor Mrs. Courtney.

After his return with Captain Ames he
asked for a leave of a few weeks, and most
readily the. colonel granted it, adding:

“ And Hickok, we will let them believe
that you have left the pest altogether, so
that any of the villains who wish to show
their hands, and stand in awe of you, will
soon do so, and upon your return vou can
give them a surprise, for I do not half think
that the Buckskin Bravos. will leave the trails
to the mines without a far severer lesson
than they have had.”

“ It may be as you say, colonel; but if the
Bravos do take the trail, it will be under the
leadership of the deserter sergeant, or Bar-
ney, should be escape from the red-skins, for
there is no other man in the band that has
the nerve and brain to lead them.

“Anyhow, a few weeks will tell what
the will do, and if they do make a break, I
wilIask your permission to devote the sum—
mer to running them to earth."

“You shall do it, Bill, and have all the
man you may desire to aid you. for, as long

 _ _.

..a‘. -. .
. e...— w...-_..., a.

.‘t- .

'18

Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West.

 
as I command up here, I shall wage war him Well, he wrote to his wife to join him
against the class of men who come here to there.

rob, murder and cause trouble.

“ But when do you start?”

“ 'I‘o-night, sir."

“ And will strike for Cheyenne, I sup-
pose?"

“ Yes, sir.”

“ Do you wish an escort?"

“ No, indeed, sir, I thank you,” and Wild
Bill soon after rode alone out of the camp,
having hidden his comrades farewell, to give
the idea that he was going to depart wholly
from the post.

Arriving at the nearest point where he
could reach the railroad, he left Black Dia—
mond in safe hands and bought his ticket
for Chicago.

Arriving in that city without adventure,
the scout sought a fashionable hotel, and after
registe' ing, set out to rig himself up in more
presentable attire.

“I guess I won‘t shock the poor girl now
with my looks," he said, as he surve 'ed in
afull-length mirror the very elegantly ( rcssed
and handsome man he had become. under the
hands of a tailor, boot-maker, hatter and
barber.

And Wild Bill had reason to feel that he
would not shock poor Clarice Courtney, the
orphan girl, with his appearance, for he was
the observed of all observers, and there was
that in his handsome. daring face that show-
ed the reader of human nature that he was

v a man with a history.

Looking into the wallet given him by Mrs.
Courtney, Bill jotted down the address of
the orphan girl, and getting into a carriage
drove there.

He found it outwardly a cosey-looking
house, upon one of the pleasant streets of the

cat Western metropolis, and to his question
If Miss Clarice Courtney dwelt there, the
servant answered:

“ Yes, sir, but she is not at home."

“ Indeed! then I will call again. if you
will tell me when she will be in," he said,
.in his courtly way. '

“I will ask the madam, sir, if you will
walk in.“ -

Wild Bill did so, and entering the parlor
his eyes fell upon the portrait of a lovely
girl of eighteen hanging over the mantle.

There was something in the sadly beauti-
ful face which seemed to fascinate him. and
he wondered where he had met the original,
for the countenance was certainly most. fa-
miliar. A

Then into the parlor came a lady, who
b0ch to the handsome stranger, and asked:

“ Did you call to see my nieCe. Miss (.‘ourt-
ney, sir?’

“ Yes, madam." v

“ I am Mrs. Raymond, sir, the aunt of
Miss Courtne '. and if you have an ' commu-
nication for ter you can let me now, for
she is absent in the West at present."

“ In the West, madam?" asked Bill. quick
1 .

“ Yes, sir, she started a week ago to visit
her arents, who are somewhere in the Black
Hil s.”

It was not often that Wild Bill was thrown
off his equal balance, but now he said eXcit—

‘yGreat God!
sooner!”

“Ah, sir, have you aught of trouble and
sorrow to tell?" and the lady looked Wild
Bill squarely in the face.

“Yes, madam, I am
news to Miss Courtney."

"‘Ill neWs? Quick, sir, tell me of my
brother and his wife!" cried the lady in

rm.

_“1 am sorry to tell you, Mrs. Raymond,
that both your brother, Mr. Carr Courtney
and his wife are dead."

“Dead; deatli‘l they archdeadg" and Mrs.

mon sun into a c air, ur in her
1% in her hands, while the scout ago; gaz-
ing upon her in deep pity, and determined

I would that I had come

the bearer of ill

that he would not then make known the

manner of the death met by the miner and
his wife.

After a moment Mrs. Raymond gained her
self-control, and said:

“Oh, sir, this is sad, sad tidings that you
bring to me, and bitter will be the blow to
pair Clarice.

“ My brother left here to seek his fortune
in the mines, and striking a vein that paid

 
“She left their child. Clarice, with me,
and went to him, and they had sent large
sums of money to her, and hoped soon to
return to Chicago very rich.

“Then a letter came from Kate, saying
that her husband was not well, and their
departure would be delayed until this
spring.

“Next followed a messenger, that Clarice
must go to her parents, and she started a
week ago under his charge."

Again Wild Bill started, and asked quick-
] .

“ A messenger came for her, you say?"

" Yes, sir."

" Who was he 1’"

“‘ A tall, handsome man, not unlike your-
self, sir; he said he was a miner, and friend
of my brother and his wife."

“ Did he give his name?"

“ Yes, his name was Clarence Carson.”

" Clarence Carson! I do not know the
name; but I assure you, Mrs. Raymond,
that I suspect dcviltry here.

“ Do you see this wallet?"

“ Yes, and it was my brother's, for I
worked his name upon it years ago. "

“ Well. madam, this was given to me by
Mrs. Courtney when she was dying. and at
that time I made her a pledge that I would
do as she bade me.

“ Her husband died in the mines some two
Weeks before her death. and she was upon
her way, with others, to return East.

“She had with her a large sum of gold,
which she was bringing home with .her, and
those with her had their fortunes. too.

“ But a guide. one in whom they trusted.
led them on a false trail, got them lost, and
let them starve and freeze to death that he
might. get their gold."

“()h, Ileavcn have mercy!" groaned M rs.
Raymond. _

“ I saw their trail and followed it. arriv-
ing upon the scene to see what the guide had
done.

“But enough, she died, and he. believing
that. he had killed me, hid the gold to return
for it in the spring.

“ But I was not seriously wounded, and
recovered, and thwarted the villain by hiding
the gold elsewhere.

“ I came to Chicago to give Miss Court-
ney the gold I pledged myself to deliver to
her, and you tell me that she has gone
West."

“ Yes, oh, yes; and the man she went
with told such a plausible story, too."

“Mrs. Raymond. I am a Government
scout, and there are a hundred otlicers of the
army in this city who will vouch for me, if
you ask them who Wild Bill is."

“ Alli I haVe heard of you, sir, if you are
the famous Wild Bill.

" W'hy, Kate has written of the famous
scout of that name.” _

“ I am Wild Bill Hickok. Mrs. Raymond,
and I tell you frankly that I fear deviltry in
this departure of your niece.

“Clarence Carson, I never heard of; but
I shall find out about. him, and if there has
been wrong done, I pledge you my word, as
I pledged it to that poor woman who died in
the snow, that I will right that wrong."

CHAPTER XXKIII.
aucx LEE’s PAsstmonas.

IT was the ﬁrst stage through into the II ills
since the breakin up of the winter, and
Buck Lee mounte his box and took the rib-
bons with the air of a man who had great
responsibility resting upon him.

“ I guesses you won‘t have no trouble now

with road-agents, Buck," said the landlord
of the tavern at the station, handing up to
the driver a handful of cigars.
.  Thar's no tellin'. lan‘lor‘, for road-agents
is like snakes; thar is no knowin’ 'when they
is dead, an‘ I expects ther Buckskin Bravos
will be on ther trails ag‘in now thet it are
known thet Wild Bill hev left for the South.
ern plains," answered Buck Lee, who did not
wish the danger of the trip he had to make;
made little of.

“ Is that so, driver?” asked a tall. well-
drcssed man. with a long beard and ﬁery
eyes, as he came out of the tavern, escorting
a; lady who wore a heavy vail which hid her

see. -

" ,Are what so, pard?" asked Buck Lee.

 
“ That \Vild Bill has gone, to the Southern
plains."~

“Yes, pard, he left some two weeks ago.
havin’ orders, I heerd. ter report ter New
Mexico, and l is sorry fer it, as the Buckskin
Bravos will doubtless make it, lively for ther
hearses thet travel ther trails to the Hills
now."

“Yes. from all accounts, Wild Bill is a
wonderful man; but I hope you dread no
trouble on this trip, as I have a lady with me
that I would not have alarmed by a halt from
road-agents. "

“ Want], this are the ﬁrst trip up, an' I
guesses we'll git through all right; but cf
gold begins ter travel ther trails as lively as
it did last year. thar will allus be found men
ter take life chances ter git it, and don‘t you
fergit it.

“ Now, stranger. I am ready ter say git. so
jist climb inter ther hearse an‘ we’ll be off."

Thus advised the stranger sprun r lightly
into the coach, the door was 010set with a
hang. the whip cracked, and the stage to the
Black llills rolled away from the station at
a lively pace.

There were but two passengers in the stage.
and they were the gentleman and lady be-
fore referred to.

The former was certainly a superb-looking
man, perhaps forty years of age, yet looking
younger.

The lady. when she took off her thick vail.
was seen to be a young girl, scarcely over
seventeen. and very beautiful, with large,
lustrous eyes and an innocent face that wa;
mOst fascinating in its childlike loveliness.

lIer form, as she threw off her wra p, war
slender. yet well matured, and her every
action was graceful.

She was dressed in a gray traveling dress,
black over-jacket, and soft hat with a sable
feather. while her hands and feet were small.
shapely, and Well gloved and booted.

A heavy shawl and sachel lay upon the
front seat, and upon the latter in gilt letters
was the name:

“ (Tonnes Coca’rNEY.“

IIcr companion was. as I have said, well
dressed, and, as he threw open his heavy
traveling-coat. after entering the stage, a belt
was visible about his waist, and it Contained
a pair of silver-mounted revolvers and a
bowie-knife. while there was that in the
man‘s face which indicated that be both
could and would use them if need be.

“ And we will have to spend two days and
a night in this cumbersome vehicle. Mr. (‘ur-
son?" asked the maiden. with a look that
showed the prospect was not very inviting:
to her.

“ Yes, Miss Clarice: but then your journey
is at an end. and you will be repaid for the
hardship by seeing your parents,” was the
answer.

" And oh! how glad Will I be to see them;
but what. you tell me of my father's Illness
makes me very blue." ‘

“ I hope for the best.“

“ Yes, and so do I, Mr. Carson; but then
I feel very blue, and my heart scents heavy,
as though from coming trouble."

“You must shake that feeling off, Miss
(flat-ice, for, should your father be taken
from you, you will have yet your good

mother to love and care for you, and besides, ,

you will be an heiress."

" I care little for money, Mr. Carson.

“Why, when father sent East his'ﬁrst
gold ﬁnd I was only glad for him and poor
nmnnna's Hake, as they once had been rich.
and it was so hard for them to be poor, I
knew.”

“ Yet you are not sorry that you are an
heiress?”

“No, for I hope to do good withmy
money.

" I. have been most kindly cared for by

my aunt, and we were very happy at her_

home, though she was not rich.

“ I love her and my uncle Raymond dear-
ly, and though I had not my parents near
me, I felt that they were content together
and doing so well that we should all‘ be
united soon."

The man gazed in silence at the lovely

irl as she Was speaking, and then said quiet-

y:
“ And may [ask if your father has been
able to send much of his gold East?"
"Yes, he sent ﬁve different sums amount-

‘..

ing to considerably over one hundred thou—
sand dollars."

“ I hope. for your sake, that he invested it
well?"

“He left it to me to invest as uncle Ray-
inond thought best, and I bought United
States bonds and put them in the bank."

" I am glad that your father had such a
large sum to his credit."

“Oh! that is mine, you know, and all

‘ he never drank. as he had said.

the passenger.
As the relays had not been yet all placed

 
banked in my name; his fortune and
mamma‘s they wrote they would bring with
them.” i

“Yes. and they have accumulated a snug 9
sum since then, I assure you, and you will
be a rich catch to the man whom you love.”

“ I do not love any man, )lr. Carson, and :
when I do, I hope to be a rich catch for my l
personal virtues rather than my gold,” was
the quiet response.

“And I assure you that you will be. for I ;
have learned to admire you for myself, far I
more than I dare tell you, Clarice.

“But, alas! I fear my dream of the future ,
will be broken," and the man si (lltfd, while "
the face of Clarice Courtney ushed, and Z
she remained silent, for the almost avowal
of love from his lips gave her no pleasure, but
pain.

i
l
I
r

 
CHAPTER XXXIV. t
IN THE seinna’s wan.

BUCK LEE‘s “hearse,” as he called his ,
coach affectionately, rolled slowly on its j
wa ', for the trail was a hard and rough one.

'Ilhrough the day and the following night,
with occasional changing of horses. and a
rudcr jostling than usual now and then, to
break the monotony, it went on toward its .
destination. ,

Now and then a “ pilgrim." as the driver '
called his assengers, would get in at one I
station an ride to another; but, excepting ;
these few transient travelers, .\lr. (‘arson and
his fair companion were not disturbed. '

The man was most kind and :ittt-iitivc to
the maiden, and with cushions, the Nichols
and her shawl had made her most comforta-
ble upon the back seat, where she slept t
serenely during the night. excepting when 1
jostled into wide—aWakefulness by the rough .
roads.

With a flask of brandy and some cigars as :
companions, )Ir. Carson climbed to the box i
with Buck Lee, who at once hid the half-l
smoked Weed he was indulging in, when his 1
passenger called out to him that he would 
ride with him. i

“ Do you smoke?" asked Carson, as he
took a seat by his side.

“ I does when l gits the chance, which are.
Seldom." was the ready lie in response.

“ Perhaps you'll have a cigar?"

“P'r‘aps I will, stranger, ef it's a good
Weed, fer bad terbacky makes me sick.”

The ci ar-case was offered, with a double
row of I avanas in it, as the coach-lights rc-
vealed.

" ls they all the same kind?” asked Buck.

“ No, these are strong. and those mild.”

“ I'll take one of each ter see which I likes
best.”

tion:

“ Before you light your cigar, perhaps
you’ll take a drink?"

“‘ Of what?”

“Brandy.”

“ P’r’aps I will. if I gits ther chance."

'“ Well, you shall have the chance, my
Juan,” and the, ﬂask, a quart, was drawn out.

"‘ Are it whisky ?”

“ No, brandy.’

“I never drinks brandy, but rather than
make you mad I’ll do it this time." and Buck
grasped the ﬂask, but Mr. Carson said.quiet-

“ See, here is a silver cup on the'hottom of
the ﬂask which you can use.“

“ Oh, I see,” and Buck kicked/disappoint-
ed that he had not been able to take a “ swal-
low “ by “the word of mouth,” for then the
sire of the swallow would not have been vis—
ible.

“ Pour out fer me, pard,” said the driver,
and he added:

“ I’ll tell you when."

Mr. Carson began to ur out the liquor,
when Buck suddenly ound it'iiecessary to
touch up one of his leaders, and forgot to my
qrflﬂﬂ. I

“ It is full. so I had to stop pruning."

This Buck did, and then came the ques- I

along the stage trail, Buck Lee had to drive

clear through on this ﬁrst trip, and halts'

were called of ﬁve hours each day and night
for rest and refreshment.

It was just dawn when the coach pulled
into a wayside station, and the much~needed
rest was sought.

The cigars were then lighted, and the heart .
of Buck Lee had been wholly won over by ,

.-.,‘_Wﬂ_dABmttheWhirlwind orthe "

I

 
“\Vaal now, jist pour about half of it back  “ Yes, pard, we has yer covered," cried
ag‘iii—no, no, yer needn’t mind for do that, i one of the men, and then Buck Lee called
as it will hev ter be poured out ag’iii,” and ,' out:

Buck Lee dashed off the brandy with a smack E
that showed considerable relish for a liquor 4

“Thar is nine of 'em. guv'nor. one with ::
weepin on inc, an‘ seven of ‘em hes you
under aim, so yer better give in quiet."

“Good advice, driver, and I will follow
it under the circumstances.

“\Vell, Sir Bravo. what is your will?"

‘ calmly said Mr. Carson. returning his revol-

I
i
l
|
l
l
t

l
I

ver to his belt.
“\Ve want you and the lady to go with

? us." was the cool reply.

And in vain was all their cntrcaty, for the
Bravos Were ﬁrm. and leaving the stage, Mr.
Carson and poor Clarice mounted horses. led
forward for them from the thicket. and Buck

After ﬁve hours the coach again started E Lee drove on alone and in deep distress for
upon the trail, and Carson now rode inside J the fate of his passengers. who had been en-

companion she found him, too, for he had
seen much of the world evidently, and was a
good story-teller, while his manners were
courtly and pleasing.

The agent at the last station had told Buck

; to entertain Clarice, and a most entertaining : tangled in the spider‘s web.

 
CHAPTER XXXV.
A CURIOUS PRIEST.
TlIOI't-ll he had fallen from grace in a

,measure, at. heart Buck Lee was a good

Lee that there had been some suspicious- 1
. church and all connected with it.

looking characters about of late, and that he
might be halted, so the driver was constant-
ly on the alert for danger.

Just as he had reached the summit of a I

long hill the much dreaded summons rung

l out sharp and stern:

“ Halt that hearse, pardi"

Buck Lee. was no coward, and before he
obeyed he was determined to see 'ust who
and how many were to be dealt With, so he
held on without drawing rein. while he
dropped his right hand to the revolver in a
holster back of the scat.

“ Do you hear?

“ Halt that team!”

This time the voice sounded in deadly
earnest, and, as Buck still held on, there
came the crack of a revolver and a bullet

‘ splintered the edge of the coach near the

driver.

“ llalt it are!” cried Buck, putting his foot
on the brake and mining up.

“I thought you would understand pistol
English, pard," cried a man stepping out
from the thicket near by and covering the

5 driver with a revolver, While at his back

came half a dozen followers, all armed with
riﬂes, and having about their waists belts of
arms.

They were dressed in buckskin hunting-
shirts, beaded and fringed, leg rings, stuCk
in the tops of military boots, an wore white
slouch hats.

A wild. reckless-looking set of men they

certainly were, and at a glance Buck Lee
E seemed to recognize them, for he called out

to his passengers:

“ Buckskin Bravos, pilgrims, an’ we is
done for."

“ Yes; we are the Buckskin Bravos.
driver, and we want toll,” was the reply of
the man who appeared to be the leader.

“ Did yer ever see a driver as hed dust ter
throw away on road-agents?" asked Buck, in
, a tone of disgust.

“We do not want your gold. but you have
a fortune in your old hearse that we want.”

“ I is goin’ ther wrong way ter be carryin’

; gold, pard.”
l “ You carry two passengers, driver. ”
l " Yer don’t want them?”
i u  H
“ Docs yer mean it?"
"I do.”
I “ You mean their old?"
, “If I take them ’ll get their gold,” was
‘ the reply. i
E “ One isaledd .”
i “ So much the better."
1 “Better let up on ’em, pard, an’ maybe
f they’ll hand out ther dust liberal.”
. “No!” and the leader of the Buckskin
i Bravos stepped up to the stage-door and
i threw it open.

“ Well, sir, what do you want?" and the
Bravo was covered by a revolver held in the
hand of Mr. Carson, while Clarice, shutting
out the sight with her hands over her face,
cried:

“ Oh, do not kill him!”

The leader seemed for an instant to be
taken aback, but then he said, calmly:

“Your little game of bluﬂ doesn’t scare
me. Mr. Carson, for 1 have my band at my
back, and your death would at once follow
harm to me.”

 
Catholic, and had great reverence for his

As he had explained. when making known
how it was he had “joined the church." he
had been “ caught on the ﬂy.”

A Worthy priest had come to the camps
where Buck was then a miner, and the pie-
tures he had drawn of damnation to the
wicked had scared the bordermcn into re-
)entance, and many converts had been made
iii the mines.

Finding that he could do better at stage-
driving than at gold-digging, Buck had tak-
en to that occupation, and it was not very
long before he had to admit that it was very
hard for an ()verland driver not to swear.

At ﬁrst he began with the photograph, as
it were, of oaths. such as, “Confound it!"
“ Iloly Rockies!” “Durnation!” and such;
but these were soon cast aside for unadulter-
ated profanity, and “ tangle—foot ” fol-
lowed cold water as a beverage, until Buck
said:

“ Ef I were ter see a. priest now, I are so
sinful, I wouldn‘t dare look a jack-rabbit in
the face."

What, therefore, was Buck Lee’s horror,
upon returning on the down tri , when only
a few miles from where he ha. been halted
by the road-agents, to see a horseman
approaching, and recognized in him a holy
father. .

He had been telling the sutler of Cam
Comfort, who sat on the box with him.
about losing his passengers on his u -trip,
and fearing that they might see the raves
on their way back.

But they had passed the scene of the
former adventure, and Buck was congratu-
lating himself upon his escape, when his
eyes fell upon the horseman in the distance.

“ Step-son o’ MOses! thar’s ther devil.
now 2" cried Buck.

But an instant after he discovered his
mistake and cried out, at the same time
crossing himself as a look of horror stole
over his face.

“ Moses in E "pt! but it are a holy father,
and I took him er a road-agent deVil.”

“ Yes, it is a priest,” said the sutler.

“ An' cf 1 bed ther chance I’d turn about
an‘ drive. up some canyon until he went by,
fer I don‘t recomember a Latin pra'er, as I
are a backslidin' sinner.”

“ Well, you’ll have to face him this time,
Back. and maybe he won’t ask you about
your prayers.” I

“ I hope not, fer ef I hed ter confess he (1
ﬁnd life too darned short tcr listen ter me.”

A few moments after the horseman ap-
proached the vehicle, and between crossing
himself and muttering oaths because his
brake wouldn‘t work well, Buck Lee had
some. diﬂiculty in coming to a standstill at
the motion of the priest for him to do so.

“Good-morning, my son; are you going
to the railroad station?" asked the priest.

“Thet is whar I’m p’inted, father, an’ I
hopes to git that.”

“Have you met with any wicked men 9

upon the highway, my son ?"

“Not a urned one until I met on. fa-
ther— Step-son 0’ Moses, keep still! ’ yelled
Buck. to his restive team, little dreaming
how he had hit the priest a terrible rap by
his words, and whic caused his reverence
to smile. '

w19 '

e I,
it .,
¢,~ ,
, .

 
2O

 
Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West.

 
“I mean, are
about?"

“I hain’t seen none this trip down, father;
but going up they tackled me.”

“ Ah! and robbed your coach?”

“Thar wasn’t no dust on board for ‘em to
take; but they yanked out two pilgrims as
was going up to ther mines."

“ indeed!"

“ Fact, father."

“ They took two passengers ‘2"

" Yes, father.”

“They did not kill them, l hope?"

“ They tuk 'em off with ‘em inter the
hills.”

“ Do you know who they were?"

“Buckskin Bravos, every durned one of
’em, begging yer pardon fer lettin' ther lcetle
profane slip out."

“ I mean who were the passengers?"

“ A gent as Was as squar’ as a acre, an' a
gal thet were good for ther eyes ter look
onto."

“ A gentleman and a lady?"

“ Thet are so."

“Do you know their names?“

“ She calt him Mr. Carson, and he ealt her
Miss suthin'-er~other, which I fergits, but
guesses it were a Frenchiﬂed name."

(IA-h!"

“ Fact, father."

“And the robbers kidnapped them?"

“ Waal, yer sh‘u’d hev seen ’em do it.”

“Did not the entleman resist?”

“Nary resist, or they hed him covered.”

“ Where was this?"

“ Back up the trail a mile.”

“ Who was the leader of the robbers?”

“ A big feller ther men calt Sergeant
Duff.”

“Did they seem to know the gentleman
in the coach ‘t”

“ Waal, I does remember that they calt
him b the name 0’ Carson, an‘ it were evi-
dent} et they was posted thet he were com-
m .’

“Thank you, my son, and I will not de-
tain you longer," and the priest rode on,
while Buck said to the sutler:

“Now, pard, thet are ther daisy o‘ a fath-
er, fer he didn‘t ask me about my sins, tho’
he were almighty cur’us about them Bravos
an’ ther passengers. ‘

“ But if he hev ondcrtook tcr convert ther
heathens in these lIills, he hev bit off a bi -
ger bite then he kin chaw, fer them Buck-
skin Bravos w'u’d rob him 0‘ his spec‘s an'

ra’erbook, or 1 doesn’t know tha’r sinful
arts.”

 
, CHAPTER XXXVI.
Tim BUCKBKIN mmvos’ osprrvss.

Wm Clarice Courtney was forced to go
with the Buckskin Bravos, she would have
utterly broken down with alarm but for the
presence of her fellow-prisoner, Mr. Carson.

He had spoken to her in a tone that reas-
sured her in a measure, and as the two rode
side by side together, they talked over their
misfortune.

Before them, just out of earshot, rode Ser-
geant Duff, the leader of the Bravos, and
whom the reader will remember as the man
gihp played ghOst, and got captured by Wild

1

Behind them followed the eight men of
the band, two of them carrying the baggage
of the captives.

Leaving the stage-road, the sergeant had
taken a trail leading directly into the most
isolated parts of the mountains. and the
solitude about them impressed Clarice deep-

1 .

y“They seemed to know you, for they
called you by name, Mr. Carson," said
Clarice to her companion.

“Yes, I observed that fact, and more. it
seems as though they expected both you and
myself, for they had a lady‘s saddle for you,
as you see.”

“ Oh, what can it mean?" cried the
maiden.

“I suppose some evil man in the mines,
knowin that your arents had sent me for
you, to (1 these uckskin Bravos. with
whom he may be in league. of ‘our coming,

' and they have thus been able to lay a trap

/

for us."
“But for what reason?“
' “For ransom."
"I have not much money with me, as I
did not deem it necessary to bring a large

there any road-agentsi

 
sum; but what 1 have, and my jewelry, they
can have, if they will only let us go.”

“ Ah, Clarice, it is no small sum that these
men have kidnapped us for.”

“ But I have not any more, and l remem-
ber you said you had lost what you had.“

“Yes, but they will demand a large ran-
som."

“ Yet it cannot be paid."

“My child, you forget that your parents
are in the Black Hills and that they have ac-
cumulated a large sum."

“ Ah yes, I had forgotten that.

“ So they will demand the money of my
parents?"

" Such is my idea."

“And they will get it. for my father
would give his last dollar to ransom me
from the power of such men."

“ 'Shl do not let them hear you, or they
will demand the last dollar your father can
raise."

“Well. I am glad it is only a loss of
money. and that we are in no peril for our
lives."

“You certainly value money very little,
Miss Courtney. "

“Why should I value it more?" was the
innocent response.

“ flow far is it from here to the camp of
my parents?" asked (‘larice. as her compan-
ion madc no rejoinder to her last remark.

“About sixty miles."

“And they will take us there?"

“Oh no! they will take us to their strong-
hold and then enter into negotiations for
your ransom."

“ And yours."

“ They will get little from me, Miss Court-

ney‘s for I have only a few hundreds laid
u .'
“ My father will arrange your ransom
with mine, for it is by your kindness to me,
and to my parents. that you have gotten
into this trouble, and I would not aécept
my freedom without you also being set at
liberty."

“ You are a noble woman. Clarice Court<
ney." said Mr. Carson, earnestly.

“I would be an ignoble one did I not
otherwise. ”

“l thank you, and I hope all will come
out well.”

“Ihope so, and when the chief of these
evil men speaks to me upon the subject of
ransom, I will write to my father to give up
all, if need be. and let us ﬂy from this hatc-
ful land, for what I have at home will be a
fortune for us."

“ I should think so, as you say it is over a
hundred thousand dollars; but we will know
their intentions to-night, for their stronghold
must be near here.”

For a number of miles more the con-
tinued their way, now and then talking to-
gether, and then riding on in silence.

Toward sunset the leader turned into a
trail leading straight up the mountain-side,
and in single ﬁle the others followed him.

it was a hard, steep climb for the horses,
of a mile, or more, and Clarice observed as
they ascended that the ' were going up what
appeared to be a cone-like mountain, stand-
ing se arated from the ranges round about,
and higher than any ridge near.

The sides, in the far-back past, seemed as
though at some time the mountain might
have been a volcano. hurling from its sum-
mit immense rocks. for the bill was so broken
up everywhere that only in the trail. which
was zigzag to a wonderful degree. could an
ascent be made.

At last the panting horses reached the
summit, and the captives saw before them
a s ace of several acres. dotted with trees,
on with a carpet of luxuriant grass at their
feet.

The view was superb upon all sides, and
the ridge seemed like a fort made by Nature,
for upon each slant of the hill w'ere obstruc-
tions that could not be passed going down
or coming up, and by the trail they had come
only was the place near sible.

In the shelter of the trees stood several
cabins built of stone, with log frames for the
doors and windows, and before them bub-
bled up a crystal spring.

Horses were wandering about feeding upon
the rass, which grew in vast abundance.
and n front of th* cabins sat half a dozen
men clad in bucks in.

Riding up to one of the rock huts which

 
stood apart from the others, Sergeant Duff
said quietly:

“ lIere, miss, this will be your home for
the present, and you have the free use of
the fort, as we call our most, for you cannot
get away."

Turning to Mr. Carson he continued:

“ You, sir, can bunk in with the men."

“All right, my man; but for how long are
we to remain prisoners in this mountain
pass?" answered .llr. ('arson.

“I cannot say now, sir; but to-night we
will talk it over, and your stay will depend
upon yourself, for we have made a rich haul
in you and the lady, and we intend it shall
pan out Well,” and Sergeant Duff walked
away, while Mr. Carson aided (‘larice from
her saddle and led her into the rude but
which she was told was to be her home.

A cot, a table and a chair. with a few cook~
ing utensils was all the furniture the place
had, and the tears rose in the beautiful eyes
of the young girl as she felt the. awful desola-
tion and helplessness of her situation there
among that band of reckless outlaws.

(TllAl’Tl‘lli XXXVII.
A PRIEST ox 'rnn WAR-PATH.

AFTER the stage rolled on, the priest, of
whom Buck Lee, the driver. had stood in
such holy awe. rode quietly along until he
came to the scene of the halting 0f the coach
two days before.

As described to him by the driver, he had
little diﬂiculty in placin the spot, and he
dismounted and looked a out him with the
air of one who knew what he was about.

He was dressed in clerical clothes, and
wore the look of one who could save souls
and at the same time take care of himself.

His complexion was Very dark, as though
he had passed long years under a burning
sun, or perhaps had een born in a sunny
Southern land.

There was a fullness about his coat over
the breast, upon either side, that suggested
the idea of Well-ﬁlled pockets, for excepting
a blanket at the back of his saddle, he seem-
ed to carry no luggage.

After examining the tracks about the stage
road for some time, he walked back to his
horse, which was by no means a showy ant-
xnal, yet to one with a knowledge of equine
qualiﬁcations, would be said to possess both
speed and bottom.

Mounting, the priest rode away from the
stage-road, following the trail left by the
Buckskin Bravos in their retreat.

\Vithout hesitancy he kept on the trail,
seemingly knowing something of woodcraft‘.
and after a ride of miles came to acanyon
which led him into a valley beyond.

He was about to ride down into the valley,
still following the trail. when his keen eyes

 
detected amoving object afar off upon the .

summit of a lone mountain.

Instantly he rcincd his horse back, and
dismounting, he sought the shelter of a
cedar-tree, and gazed long and ﬁxedly at tin-
summit of the lofty peak.

“There is their haunt, and it is a good re-
treat, for I did not believe the summit could
be gained,“ he muttered to himself.

A moment he stood in silent thought, and
then said slowly:

“ Yes. that being their haunt. they will
doubtless make the spot where they robbed
the stage their striking-point.

“ l'll go there and await their coming."

Again be mounted, and turned the head of
his horse back the way he had come.

As he passed through some timber a s uir-
up.) sprung up before him and rushed or a
tree some paces distant.

Thrusting his hand quickly into the breast
of his coat, it returned with a revolver, and
he fired with a quickness and skill which
were remarkable, considering his holy call-
ing, for the squirrel dropped to the ground
with a bullet in his brain.

“ IIe’ll make me a good supper,“ was the
quiet comment of the priest, as he threw an-
other cartridge into his revolver, returned it
to his pocket, and picking up his game, rode
on.

lie was passing through a narrow ravine,
with rocky walls upon either side, and a
hard footin , which gave back loudly the
echoes of his horse's hoofs. when he drew
rein suddenly, for his ear had detected some
sound other than those made by the hoof-
falls.

."

war I» a

 
Listening, he distinctly heard the rapid
clutter of boots, and that they were coming
toward him he knew.

He could not ﬂy back down the ravine, as
there was a long stretch before him through
which he must pass, and those comin r would
catch sight of him, as they won] come

’ around the bend in a moment or two and be

in full sight.

Fortunately for him a large rock had
broken away from one wall of the ravine,
and falling into the bottom afforded him a
place of refuge, provided no one took it into
his head to ride behind it in passing.

Toward this he spurred quickly, and had
just gotten out of sight when those he
‘sou ht to avoid came around the bend in the
ravme.

There was Very little space behind the
rock, and just room enough to hide one man
and horse; but that was sufficient for the
priest, and he seemed satisﬁed.

From his position he could not see those,
who were coming as they went by, but as
soon as they passed the rock he obtained a
View of them.

A sight of the party, for there were four
mounted persons, acted like magic upon
him, for, drawing a revolver from each
breast-pocket, he drove his spurs into the
ﬂanks of his horse, and darted out right
upon their rear.

Then followed a couple of rapid shots, a.
rin ing war-cry, a scream in a rirl’s voice,
an the priest was by the side 0 Red Star,
the young Queen of the Blackfeet, who was
securely bound hands and feet, and strapped
to her horse.

Upon the ground lay two dead Sioux
warriors, while, ﬂying down the can on, as
though a regiment was at his heels, was
Fighting Crow, and the ponies of the slain
braves.

Red Star had met missionaries, both
Catholic and Protestant in the Indian camps,
but she had never seen one on the war-path
before, and she gazed at the priest in amaze-
ment, while she said:

“The Great Spirit Chief is good to Red
Star, and he is a great warrior.”

The priest smiled blandly at the praise,
while he quickly severed the bonds of the
Indian girl, and said:

“Let the Red Star come with the Great
Spirit Chief.”

Without a word she seized her reins, and
then hesitated and pointing to the two war-
riors asked innocently:

“\Vill the Great Spirit Chief take the
scalps of the Sioux braves?"

The riest shook his head and the two
rode 0 together at a rapid gallop. leaving
the dead warriors where they had fallen.

 
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE BLACK rmnurr.

IN a wild can on of the mountains, half a
dozen leagues rom Camp Comfort, a man
was seated in the entrance to a cavern, busily
engaged in making a quiver of arrows.

That the picturesque yet desolate place
was his home there was no doubt, for the
skins of wild beasts were tacked u n the
large trees near by to dry, and the reap of
ashes piled up at one side of the cavern en-
trance showed that there the man hved and
had lived for a long while.

Piles of fagots were also near at hand, an
ax stood at one side of the cave, across the
front of which was awall of logs, built se m-
ingly for the double purpose of keeping ut
the cold in winter and serving as a breast
work of defense.

The rude door in the log wall was open,
displa ing a cavern of large size, with a bed
of sk us, a rustic table, a frying-pan and
oven, and along the walls bows and arrows,
tomahawks, scal s, and the wings of innu-
merable birds, w rile a stuffed owl and snake
were over the entrance, serving in the place
of a coat-of-arms. .

The dweller in this strange den sat upo
the outside upon a bear-robe, and, at a ﬁrst

lance he might have been taken for a wild

t, for he was clad in a strange and sav-.

age costume.

Upon his massive head he wore a eoronet
of feathers of all hues, and about his body
was a hunting-shirt of panther-skins, while
his legs were incasod in buckskin leggings,

 
Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. 7

tanned with the hair on, and worn on the
outside.

About the waist was a belt, a wolf-head
serving as a buckle, and fox-tails hanging
down about it like tassels.

At his back was a long bow and two quiv-
ers of arrows. while in the belt were a pair
of hu 0 dragoon pistols and a bowie-knife.

At his side, leaning against the rocky wall
into which his cavern penetrated, was an
army musket that looked as if it might have
done duty against the British in the war of
1812.

Lying near the man was a huge wolf fast
asleep, and on a perch above his head sat an
owl, booting most dismall as the shadows
of coming night began to arken the valley,

And this strange being, who dwelt in that
weird place, was a negro.

Above six feet in hight, a perfect IIereules
in size, and as black as polished ebony, he
was.

[[0 was known to the few hunters, guides
and trappers that. had seen him as the Black
llermit, and the ravine where he dwelt was
called the Black Ilermit Canyon.

He seemed to avoid while men, and only
once had been seen at Camp Comfort, when
he went there to exchange skins for ammu»
nition and other articles he needed.

Indians he seemed rather to seek than
avoid, and the red-skins shunned him as an
evil spirit, and Well they might. for the
sealps hanging upon his walls had been taken
from warriors’ heads.

Somehow it had gained ground that the
Black Hermit had once been a slave, and
had come West with his master and family,
all of whom had been massacred one night
by the Indians excepting himself, and that
he had swern a bitter revenge.

Whether true or not, it was certain that
the Black Hermit had sent many a warrior
to the happy hunting- rounds during his
hermitage in the Black Iills.

And, as the Black Hermit sat there mak-
ing his arrows, that. pleasant June afternoon,
his quick ear detected a sound he seldom
heard in his canyon, and springing to his
feet he glanced in the direction from whence
it came.

Then his eyes fell upon two horses, and
upon their backs were riders.

With a dark scowl, he seized his musket,
called to his wolf and owl, and started to
enter the cabin.

The wolf sprun in before him, the owl
ﬂew down upon his shoulder, and entering
his den the Black llermit closed the door
behind him.

(‘llAl’TElt "XXXIX.
THE nmcx HERMIT RECEIVES vrsrrons.

Tm: two persons, whom the Black Hermit
had discovered a preaching his den, Were
the riest and Re Star, the Girl Queen of
the lackfeet.

That he did not wish callers was very evi-
dent b the inhospitable way he had de-
campe upon observing their approach.

And it may be that he wished to prepare
against surprise, for he stood by his door,
his eye at a hole in the log wall.

Those he saw approac ing might be foes,
and he certainly had no reason to look for.
friends.

Before coming within range of the arrows
or antiquated riﬂe of the Hermit, the riest
halted, and raised his hands above his cad.

After holding them there for an instant he
clasped them upon his forehead and bowed
three times.

Then he rode on again, accompanied by
Red Star, and the Black Hermit at once
threw open his door and, stepped out, repeat—
ing the same movements which the priest
had just gone through.

Riding up near the cavern, the priest
dismounted, and leaving Red Star still upon
her horse, he approached the Hermit with
the. remark:

“ Does not Ham remember his friend t”

“ Yas, massa, I knows yer now; but it has
been long time sin’ I 800!) ycr, an’ I wasn’t
’spectin’ yer. .

“Come in, sah, for I is allers glad ter see
yer,” answered the negro, in a ow, hoarse
voice. and in a hesitating tone, as though he
had to think a word over before he gave ut-
terance to it.

 
21

“ Ham, do you see that Indian girl?" ask—
ed the priest.

“Yas, sah. an' I don‘t like Injuns," and
the negro S(‘()WI(‘(i.

“ You have had cause to hate them, IIam.
from what you once told me.”

“ I has, sah, I has," almost savagely said
the Black Hermit.

“But, “am, that is not an Indian war~
rior."

“ No, sah. she am a Injun gal."

“ Yes, and it is Red Star, the Girl Qllt-en
ofthe Blackfeet." ‘

“Blackfeet Injuns is better den Sioux, but
dey is all putty much ob a likeneSs, maSsa."
was the reply.

“But there are good Indians, IIam——"

“ Dem lnjuns whose scalps I is got hang-
in’ up in de house am good Injuns, massa.”

The priest smiled at this, and humoring
the negro, answered:

“ Well, IIam. you have been a true aven-
ger, and many a red-skin has fallen by your
hand.

" I guess you have twenty scalps fully in
your house, as you call your cave.”

“Jist thirty-one. massa.”

“ Indeed!

“Well, llam, there is one Indian that I
wish to leave in your charge.”

“ Am he a priz‘ner, massa?”

“ It is yonder poor girl.”

“Yas, sah."

" She was stolen from her village by an
old lover, who had joined the Sioux, and]
rescued her, but have not time to return
with her now to her people, for I have some-
thing of importance to attend to.”

“ Yas, massa."

“And, llam, I wish you would take care
of the girl for me." ,

"I will, sah, an’ give her de house ter
sleep in, for I sleeps outside in summer-
time."

" Well, look after her well, give her plentv
to eat, and I will come for her as soon as
can."

“Yas, massa, I’ll do jist as you says fer
me ter do."

“I know that you will, Ham, and now I
will leave Red Star here with you.”

“ Better stay here yerself fer-night, massa,
fer it am gittin’ dark, an’ ’sides, I kin gib
yer a awful nice suréper,” said Ham, as the
priest called to Red tar to approach.

“Thank you, Ham, I believe that I will
camp with you to-night and take an early
start in the mornin .”

“ Golly! it will oyous, an’ seem like
old times, ter hev wisltors round de camp-
ﬁre wid me," said the Black Hermit, evi-
dently delighted with the chance of playing
host.

Red Star approached, while Ham took her
pony and the priest’s horse and staked them
out on the banks of a small creek near by,
after which he returned to his den, witha
strin of ﬁsh he had caught that afternoon.

“ his is the Black Hermit, Red Star, and
he will let you remain here until I come to
take you to the village of your people,” said
the riest-.

“ 'as, Missy Red Star, I wants er ter
stay jist as long as you pleases, fer hain’t
no hard feelin s ag‘in’ you, though I has
been trailin' red-skins lively in my time; but
if yer is ther friend 0’ massa here, you is my
friend, Missy Red Star. "

The Indian girl had often heard of the
Black Hermit, and well knew with what
horror he was looked upon by the warriors
of her tribe; but she saw that his manner
was friendly, and grasped his hand, while
she said:

“The Red Star will be the friend of the
Black Hermit.”

This seemed to lease the ne r0, for he
laughed lightly, while he mutter :

“Golly! me an' Injun friends arter all
dose long years.

" But den squaws don’t count. "

With this the Black Hermit set to work to _
build a ﬁre, and from his larder brought'
forth game of various kinds and abag of
corn-meal, out of which he made a hoecake.

Then some coﬂee was produced, and the.
strange trio sat down about the camp-tire in
that wild canyon and ate a hearty supper.
unmindful of the hootings of the tame owl
and the growling of the wolf. who could not
understand this feast, at which they were.
ruled out by their table master.

22

 
W'ild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West.

 
CHAPTER XL.
FORCED 'ro TEitMs.

I new now return to poor Clarice Court-
ney and Mr. ‘arson, who the reader will re-
member, were captives in the Robbers’
Roost, as the Buckskin Bravos called their
retreat upon the mountain summit.

To (llarice her captors brought a most
tempting supper; but she was in no mood to
enjoy it, and scarcely tasted what was set be-
fore her.

She could not but think of her poor sick
father and anxious mother, and wonder
when she would see them.

Shortly after supper )‘Ir. Carson came to
see her. and said that the men were talking
over what was to be done with them, and
told her to cheer up.

Then he left her, with the advice to try
and go to sleep.

This advice she was very willing to follow
and she threw scverallogs of wood upon the
ﬁre, for the night was really cold on the
mountain, and, finding that her cot was
spread with soft bear-skins and a new
blanket, she retired to rest and soon forgot
her troubles in slumber.

When she awoke it was to a full realiza-
tion of her captivity; but, determined to
make the best of it, she ate her breakfast,
and then went out for a walk.

For a lorw time she stood, lost in contem-
plation of the grand scenery about her, and
then started, as she heard a ste behind her.

It was Mr. Carson, and his Face wore an
anxious look, which she at once observed
and asked quickly:

“ Well, Mr. Carson, what is to be our
fate?"

“ Clarice, I must talk plainly to you," was
the response.

“I will listen,“ and the young girl felt a
foreboding of coming evil.

“ Here, sit on that rock and hear me," and
he motioned her to a moss-grown rock near.

Quietl she sat down“ and standing in
front of her, his arms folded upon his breast,
and leaning against a tree, he said softly:

“Clarice, do not feel angry with me at
what I have to say."

“Why should I be an ry with you, my
kind friend?” she answered.

“ The truth is," he went on, “that I told
the outlaws a falsehood about you."

“About me?” and the innocent eyes
opened in amazement.

“Yes.”

“ Why, what falsehood could on tell
them about me?” she asked in surprise.

“To be frank, the man they call Sergeant
Duff is not their chief.”

“Well, Mr. Carson?”

“ Their chief is at resent absent, and
from what they know 0 him, they say they
are assured that he would not give you up If

‘ he saw you.”

“Not give me u ?“ and she repeated the
wrirds slowly, whi e her face became very
a e.
p “ Yes, for he would be infatuated by your
beauty, and force you to become his wife,
for he is a. reckless d'evil, they say."
“ Oh, Heaven have mercy upon me!"

~ groaned the unha py girl.

Then she adds quickly.

“ But I will appeal to his cu idit , and if
he is a robber, surely his love 0 gol should
con uer all other feeling.”

“ ey say that. he does not care for gold,
and that he cannot be bribed if he sees on,
and thus it was that I was forced to tel the
falsehood.”

“Ah, yes; but what was the falsehood?"

\He remained silent for an instant, and
then said:

“ I told the Buckskin Bravos that you
were my wife I"-
' Like a startled fawn she sprung to her
feet, her face deadly pale, while she cried,
excitedly:

“ Oh! why did on tell them that?"

‘l‘ To save you, larice.”

“ To save me? but how?"

“ Believing you to be a young girl, their
chief would seek to ma you, where, be-
lieving you to be my wife, 0 would be will-

in to accept ransom for you.”
he nodded her head as though she un-
derstood his motive to be a good one, and he
Continued: .

‘ “ But the band would not believe me, so I

was forced to offer them terms.” '

 
i

 
“ Ilow mean you?"

“ 1 mean that they are willing to be brib-
ed, if they can make it all clear to their chief
when he returns in a few days.“

“1am still ignorant as to your meaning,
Mr. Carson.”

“ To be more explicit. Clarice. I will tell
you that Sergeant Duff ﬂatly told me that, he

new that you were not my wife, but added

that if you did become so he would be justi- .

ﬂed in accepting a ransom for you."

“If I did become so?" she asked, in a
dazed way.

“ Yes: he intimated that a minister could
be sent for to the nearest station, and we
could be married. and then he would arrange
the terms of ransom before the chief‘s re—

turn, and that you could go after the gold .

and send it back by a trusted member of the
band, while I remained here until it was

paid."

“()h! Mr. Carson, this is terrible!"
and Clarice covered her face with her
hands.

“ i know that it is sudden and necessarily
shocks you, Clarice; but 1 frankly confess
that 1 love you, and intended to seek to gain
your hand some day in the future.

“ At such a time I should not tell you of
my love; but then, if on consent to be
bound to me it is better t rat you know 'ou
marry one who dcvotcdlv loves you, an to
prove it, i will promise that, when I am re-
leased from this camp, I will not come near
you unless you so wish it.

“But alone I will go my wa ', and you
can in a year's time free yourself from me
upon the plea of desertion.

“ As I told you, Clarice, I am a poor man,

and it will have to be the gold you get from _

your parents that buys my freedom, so, if
you go from here in perfect freedom as my
Wife, and care not to redeem me, as it were,

then do not send the gold and let my fate be. "

what these men care to have it."

She listened in silence to his words, and
then said frankly:

“ Mr. Carson, [will tell you in all honesty
that I do not love you, and I abhor the
thou ht of being forced into this marriage.

“ ut I admire and respect you, and I will
be governed by you in this matter, as I feel
that you are a no 10 man, and will act only
for my good.”

“1 Wlll, indeed, Claricc, and I also abhor
the idea of forcing you into this marriage:
but I know well who and what are the Buck-
skin Bravos and their chief, and did he see
you he would love you, and loving you, he
would force you to become his wife.

“ His men say that the will accept a thou-
sand dollars cach as a ribe, if you marry
me, and then agree with on for a ransom of
ten thousand for you an I, permitting you
to go after the money, which will Iro to the
chief to divide as he pleases, and that I am
to remain here until the gold is paid.

“ There is a man in the band who has late-
ly joined, and he knows of a priest in a
mining-camp whom he can get to come here
and perform the ceremony, and immediately
after it you will be sent by a competent guide
to your arents. -

“ Arriving there, if you do not care to send
the gold, so be it; if you do, 1 will prove my
appreciation of your kindness by staying
away from you until you bid me come to
you.

“Now, Clarice, on know all."

“ Yes: and I wil become your wife, and
my ﬁrst dut upon reaching my parents will
be to send t 6 price of our ransom and the
money the men deman as a bribe.”

She s oke ﬁrmly, but he could see that she
suﬂ'ere , and that she had been brought to
terms only through a desire to escape under
any circumstances from the dread power of
the Buckskin Bravos.

“ I will at once acquaint the Bravos with
what you say, Clarice, and let them send
their man after the riest, for, as they ex-
pect their chief in a. ew days. there is little
time to be lost, and I wish to get you away
from there before his arrival.”

“ They would not let me go, upon my
pledge to send the money, without my marry-

ng on?” she faltered.

” will ask them once more with pleasure
—nay, you shall ask them oursclf."

She saw a loop—hole o escape, perhaps,
and, like a drowning man grasping at a
,straw, clutched at it eagerly. ,

“ Yes. let me ask them."

“ Come,” he said. and he led her to where
the wroup of Bravos sat, chatting to ether.

A dressing herself to Ser cant uff, she
told him what she had heard rom her fellow-
prisoner. and added:

“New I do not love this gentleman, much
as I admire and respect him, for he has been
, so kind to me, and I do not wish to marry
him‘, so beg you will allow me to go to my
; parents, with one of your own men to ac-
; company me, and I pledge you my word
that l will return you the sum you demand.”

The Bravos all shook their heads, while
Sergeant Duff said bluﬂly:

“ No, no, miss, for you might not send the
gold, much as you intended to.

“But if the gentleman is your husband.
1 then you would not desert him, 1 know, and
‘ the ceremony has got to be performed before
l you go, unless you wish to remain and take
l the chanccs with our chief.”

“ No, no. I will accept your terms,” eager-
ly cried the poor girl, and she turned and
walked quickly away to her hut, and throw-
ing herself upon her cot she wept bitterly,
for her heart was full of sorrow at the
thought that she was to be bound to a man
i whom she did not love.

t
i

 
CHAPTER XLI.
A Pitrss'r‘s FATE.

Tw.o horsemen were coming slowly down
a steep hillside, independent of trail or bear-
ings, apparently, so that they reached the nar-
row valley at its base.

()ne of the men. he who was in advance.
had taken the precaution to dismount and
lead his somewhat jaded-looking horse, for
the descent was a perilous one for man and
‘ beast alike. ‘

t The other individual remained in the sad-
dle, and aided his horse all he could with
rein and voice.

The latter was dressed in the rb of a
priest of the Romish Church, ha a clean-
shaven face, and yet there was an air of bold-
ness in it which his apparent calling could
not conceal.

He was well mounted, but carried no arms
that were visible.

The other, he who preferred to be on foot
should his horse fall, was an Irishman, as a
glance was sufﬁcient to show.

He had a straggling heard, was sunburnt
almost to the hue of an Indian, and his dark
complexion was in striking contrast to his
red hair and blue eyes.

He was also well meanted and well armed,
for besides his riﬂe at his back, he carried
two revolvers and a knife in his belt.

“Glory be to God? Father Moriaty, We
are almost down this divil’s hill," he cried.
turning to the priest.

“ Yes, Michael, we may consider the dan-
ger of the descent over,” answered the priest.

But, even as he spoke, and just when the
Irishman leading had reached the valley, the
horse of the priest stumbled, tried to recover
himself, missed his footin , and fell heavily,
throwing his rider and rol ing over him.

“The Lord be betune me an’ harum! the

raist is did intoirely,” cried Michael, or
RIike O’Doud, crossing himself in holy hor-
ror at the thought, while he sprung to the
side of the prostrate man.

With head gushed by the shar stones, one
arm doubled up and broken un er him, and
with no sign of life in him the priest lay,
while the Irishman bent over him, trying in
vain to rouse him.

“Come back to loif, Father Moriaty, av
yer laize.

“ ad luck to thet same hill an’ the divil
of a brute thet toombled him.

“ Faith, I was afther tellin’ him it was
safer to be walking on fut, but he obsarves
thet his religion would uphold him, and be:
gorra, it’s the soul of lnm that’s knocked
clane out of ’im.”

And thus the Irishman ran on, while he
endeavored to rouse the priest, to no avail.

I “ Well, my son, you have met with trouble
sec!”

Mike O’Doud gave vent to a cry of terror,
and dropping his hand upon his revolver,
turned 11 on the one whose voice had so dis-
turbed im, when he believed himself
wholl alone.

To iis utter amazement he saw before him
another priest, and out came the words:

 
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“ Glory be to God! the woods is afther
being full of them!"

“The woods are full of what, my son?"
asked the priest, who was the one whom the
reader has before met, and who had ap-
proached unseen by the Irishman in his dis-
tress.

“Full of your rivercnces. I means, father,
fer here is afthcr being FatherMoriaty did as
the divil, an' there is afthcr bein’ yoursilf,
while yesterday it was hard to ﬁnd a river-
ince in the Black Hills, bad luck to ’em.”

Without questioning Michael O’Doud as
to whether he meant bad luck to the priest
or the Black Hills, the new-comer stepped
forward and bent over the prostrate man,
layin his hand upon his heart.

“ e is dead," he said, simpl .

“ God rist his sowl," and I ike crossed
himself and muttered a Latin prayer.

“Yes, he is dead, poor man, his end was
sudden.

“ Who is he?"

“Father Moriaty, yer riverince, from Cus-
ter Mine Camps, sur."

“ Where was he oing?”

The Irishman’s ace ﬂushed, and he re-
mained silent.

“ Where was he going?” calmly asked his
questioner.

“ He was afther going with me, sur.”

“ Where were you going, my son?”

“ To my camp. yer riverince."

“ Who are you?”

“Michael ()‘Doud, from the ould sod, God

bliss her, sur; but the.b‘ys call me Irish‘

Moike.” .

“Ah! I have heard of you, my son; you
are a member of the band of robbers know
as the Buckskin Bravos of the Black Hills,"
and the priest eyed him sternly.

“Bad luck to the tongue of me, for givin
away me name of Irish Moike,” muttere
Irish Mike, in ill~hunior with himself.

“And where was Father Moriaty going
with on, Mike?"

“ o the Boost, yer riverince, to confess
the b’ys." ‘

“ Is that all?”

“ Sure, and it‘s enough to confess the bye
in the Roost, yer riverince, without being
afther asking more."

“ Yes, there is a great deal of sin there to ‘

confess, Michael O’Doud, and you have
doubtless a hundred unforgiven sins on our
soul, and may die at any moment wit out
absolution.”

“ The Holy Vargin ferbid thet same, your
riverince, an’ it’s mesilf would be lad to
confess now, ef your riverince woul be so
good to me,” and Mike was evidently dis-
tressed in mind at the picture drawn by the
priest.

“First tell me the truth, and why you
were taking Father Moriaty to the Boost, as
you call your camp?”

“Will, sir, I’ll make a clane story of it,
for I’ll have to confess all.

“Yer say, yer riverince, they are afther
playing a ittle game up at the Roost, for
they are to have a wedding."

“A wedding, my son?"

“ Yis, father.”

“ Who is to be married there?”

“A swate cr'ature thet is a daisy, your
riverince.

“So they know'd I was afther being a
thrue Catholic, and they sint me over to
Custer Mine Camps to get the praist, and I
got Father Moriaty, telling mm the b’ys
wished to conﬁss and one of ’em git mar-
ried.” a

“ And he agreed to o with you ?”

"Sure and he did, grour riverince, for he
is either being one of the salt of the earth,
and would go anywhere to do a man a good
turn."

“Yes, Father Moriat was a good man,
and he has met his dent in a sad way.

“ But he shall have decent burial, Mike, so
let us seek some quiet spot and dig a grave
for him.”

This was done, and the bod of the unfor-
tunate man was wrapped in is blanket and
consigned to the grave with the low-whis-
pered prayers of the riest who had so op-
portuner come u on t e scene of death.

As the horse ri den b the dead priest had
broken his leg in his fal , Irish Mike quickly
put him out of his misery with a pistol-shot,
and then said:

“Now, your riverince, is it yersilf that

 
will be afther going to the Roost with me to
conﬁss the b’ys, and marry the swate gurrul
to her lover?”

“Yes, I will go with you, Michael,” was
the reply, and mounting their horses the ill-
matche pair set off together for the retreat
of the Buckskin Bravos.

CHAPTER XLII.
MR. CARsON’s STORY.

Mu. CARSON was pacing to and fro on the
summit of Robbers’ Roost, his face anxious,
its he gazed out over the scene spread before
um.

But his eyes did not rest upon the scenery
with any expression of enjoyment in the
View, but. rather they seemed searching for
some object.

At last his face brightened, and he ex~
claimed:

“ They are coming!”

Placing a glass to his eyes he gazed intent.-
ly at two horsemen who were approaching,
and said:

“Yes, one is the Irishman, the other the
priest; but they will not arrive here until
dark.

“ Now to see if the priest will undertake
the work for me.”

Darkness had fallen upon the Roost before
the two horsemen rode into the fort and dis-
mounted.

They were met by Sergeant Duff and Mr.
Carson, and the former said:

“ Well, Mike. you got the priest?" ,

“ Sure. and it looks loike him, bedad,"
was the reply.

Then, turning to the priest, Sergeant Duff
continued :

“ Well, father, you are welcome to the
Boost, though it’s a terrible lot of sinners
you come among."

“ My duties carry me continually among
sinners, my son,” was the reply of the priest.

“ Well,‘ father, I guess we take the deck
for wickedness; but come and have some
supper with us, and then Mr. Carson will tell
you why he sent for you."

The priest readily accepted the invitation
to supper, and seemed greatly to enjoy the
meal, as did the sergeant, though Mr. Carson
ate very little and seemed anxious.

After it was over, Sergeant Duff got up
and left the two seated together in front of

 
' the cam -ﬁre.

“ We 1, father, as Sergeant Duﬁ said, I
will explain to you why we asked you to vis-.
it us, and I suppose it might as well be done
to-ni ht.”

“ es, my son, for with the early dawn I
must return to the camps, where important
duties call me.”

“ Ah! so soon?"

“ Yes, for I cannot delay.”

“ Then we must act at once, 501 will speak
to Miss Courtney upon the subject, so that
she may not retire.”

Rising, Mr. Carson hurried away from the
camp-ﬁre, and was gone some minutes.

Then he returned, and, seating himself,
told the story of his having been sent early in
the ast fal to bring Miss Courtney to the

Blac Hills, but had gotten snowed in, and'

had only that spring been able to accomplish
it.

Then the story of their capture by the
Buckskin Bravos was told, and how the rob—
bers had consented to allow Clarice to go
after the ransom money, and keep him there
as a hostage, if she was his wife.

“ Does the lady consent to this marriage?”
asked the priest.

“ She does, father; but have I not met you
before, sir?” ~

“ Fossibly, and your face has seemed most
familiar to me, and I have thought that I
might have met you at Camp Comfort Post,
when I have gone there to Visit the Catholic
soldiers of the regiment.”

“ Oh, yes! that is where we have met; but
to resume, father: .

“Miss Courtney consents, and, as I love
her devotedly, I hope to make her a good
husband.

“But now to a sad part of my story. ”

"Well, my son?”

“Since my return to the border it has been
3131!? that Miss Courtney’s parents are both

It Dead?)’ ‘ _

“ Yes, father; her father died'in the mines,
soon after my departure, and; her mother

 
then sought to get to the East, with a few
other unfortunates.

“ They started, alas! too late. for :i fearful
snow-storm overtook them at the outset. the
same which kept me snowed in in a miners‘
camp, and they wandered about under the
guidance of aman, now dead, who sought
their gold, until one by one they died."

“This is fearful, my son; but who was
this man ‘2”

“ His name was Colorado King, and
though a scout at Camp Comfort Post, he
was rCCently the leader of this band of des-
peradces.

“Mrs. Courtney. it seems. was the last to
die, and, as the others had dropped off, they
left to her their gold, and she, in turn, left
all to her (laughter.

“ Wild Bill—"

“ Yes, I have heard of the man.”

“Yes, he is a well-known man upon the
border: well, he came upon the scene to find
)Irs. Courtney dying, and she got a pl(“(lf"u
from him to seek her daughter and give 1o
her the gold.

“But this Colorado King shot \l'ilil
Bill—"

“Killed liini‘?"

“ Oh no, but wounded him and left him
for dead, while he, hiding the gold, hastened
back to the fort.

“Wild Bill, however, was miraculously~
saved, and rehiding the gold, turned up
early this spring at the post, and Colorado
King had to ﬂy for his life.”

“ Yes, my son."

“He came to his band, the Bravos here,
but was afterward killed by Wild Bill.”

“ Ah! I am glad he was punished for his
crimes."

“Yes, it is a blessing; but now, father, I ‘
have not had the heart to tell poor Clarice of
her parents‘ fate, and I be you to do so,
and I have decided that s e had better go
with you to the post, and have you get her
gold for her, for though Wild Bill has gone
on duty to the southern prairies, he has left
with Colonel Burr a chart of the place where
the treasure is hidden.”

“ Yes, in ' son.’.’

“ When s e gets her treasure, Clarice can
give to ou the sum demanded for my ran~
som, an you can bring it here, and release
me, and most liberal shall be your reward.“

“I ask only the reward, in son, of know-
ing that I do my duty,” sai the priest, re-
provingly.

“ Wel , you certainly will do 9. 00d work
in obtainin for this poor girl her ortune. ,
“ When T am released, I will go to Chey-
enne. where I wish Clarice to await me,
provided she wishes to be my wife, but if
not, I have promised to go my way and

leave her free.”

“ It is very noble of you my son.”

“ I love her, father, and wish to act justly
toward her."

“ It shows your good heart, my son.

“ But now, as I must depart at daylight, it
is best to have the ceremony to-night, and
have Miss—Miss— What is the lady’s name,
my son?” A

“ Miss Clarice Courtney."

“True; well, it is best she go with me at
once to the post, and I will leave her there
while I go on to the camps to attend to the
duty I have on hand.

“ Upon my return, through Colonel Burr,
she can have secured her gold, and I will
then bring the amount of ransom'here with
me, for I wish to act for your good in this
matter.”

“ You are very kind, father, and now we
will have the ceremony, ” and rising, Mr.
Carson led the priest to the cabin occupied
by Clarice. Sergeant Dad and Irish Mike
being called as witnesses. .

CHAPTER XLIII.
rim m'mnen'r MARRIAGE.

Cmrcs: COURTNEY had seen the priest
ride into the Boost with Irish Mike, and {her
heart be n to beat rapidly. ‘

Then 1'. Carson had come to her. and
told her that as the holy father had_tode.~_ ‘
part at daybreak, it was necessary to have
the marriage ceremony performed at once. 

Mr. Carson had confessed to being a
Catholic, and, educated at a convent, Clarice '
had been brought up in that faith, 60 that
there could be no samples upon the part of
the priest about performing the marriage ‘

 
t .

 
’24:

rites, if the maiden said she was willing to
wed her fellow-captive.

Going to the cabin, they found the poor
girl very pale, but ﬁrm, and Mr. Carson in-
troduced to her the priest, and left him alone
with her for a short while.

A few questions Were asked Clarice.
which she answered calmly, and then Mr.
Carson and the others were summoned to the
hut.

Taking their places, with Sergeant Duff
and Irish Mike in the cabin as witnesses, and
the rest of the Bravos looking in at the door,
the priest took out his book, and slowly read
the service in a low tone.

The responses were given by both Carson
and Clarice in a ﬁrm voice, and the ('erc—
mony had ended.

“ Now leave me!" urged the poor girl, as
Carson stepped forward to lead her to a seat.

“ I will do so, Clarice; but by early dawn
you must be ready to accompany the priest,
and Irish Mike will go as guide.

“I will see you to say fareWelI, and, if
'ou say so, it shall be our last farewell, said

r. Carson, in a low, sad tone.

Clarice made no reply, and the next mo-
ment she was alone.

Throwing herself upon her cot she burst
into tears, and after a long time had cried
herself to sleep.

The lire had burned low, when she was
awakened by a knock at the door.

“It is time to get up, Clarice, and prepare
for your journey.

“Your breakfast I will bring you soon,"
said a voice without.

“Thank you, I will be ready," she said,
wearil '.

Half) an hour after, while it was yet dark,
she was placed in her saddle by Mr. Carson,
who grasped her hand, imprinted a kiss upon
it, while he said:

“ Farewell, Clarice, and remember, I
await the coming of the good priest to know
whether I shall go forth alone and wretched
in the world, or come to you. ”

“ You shall know then; good-by,” and
releasin her hand she rode away. following
Irish M510 and the priest. '

When the sun arose. the priest rode along-
side of the Irishman, and said:

“ Michael, are you at heart an evil man?"

“Bedad, .your riverince, I wouldn’t be
afther hurting a ﬂy,” was the answer.

“ Then why do you belong to so vile a
band as the Buckskin Bravos?"

“ It’s me had luck, sur.”

“Why did you join them?"

“ Faith, an’ they joined me, your river-
ince, forI was after getting robbed by thim
same, and I’ve been wid thim since.”

“Well, Michael, if you stay with them,
you'll end your days on a rope."

“The Lord forbid. and St. Patrick pre-
sarve met” fervently said Irish Mike.

“ You had better begin at once to lead an
houest life, and if you will say that you are
willing to do so, I’ I get you a place at the
post.”

“God bless your riverince, I says it a
hundred toimes over.”

“Then, Michael, remember to prove your
words by your actions,” said the priest, and
he rode on with Clarice and entered into
conversation with her.

He saw that she felt the importance of
the step which she had taken. yet did so.
feeling that it was for the best.

It pained him to have to tell her of the
death of her parents, those whom she fond-
ly hoped to see, and he determined not to
let her know of their fate until they should
reach the pest, where she would be among
those who could offer her every sympathy.

As they rode along the )riest suddenly
detected two persons on t e trail before
them.

They were mounted, and had halted with
the evident intention of reconnoitering,r the
priest and his party as they approached,
while they had taken up a position from
which they could readily decamp, or defend
themselves, as circumstances made it neces-

“WI

 
CHAPTER XLIV.
neon mn FRYING-PAN INTO THE rum.

" YER riverince had better go slow," called
out Mike as he saw the two horsemen ahead,
and, not being possessed of the best eyesight

l
y
l
l

 
_.o

 
“was Bid—then'Whirlwind of the West.

I
could not tell whether he expected to ﬁnd in
them friends or foes. l

“ Yes, Mike, I'll go slow; but I’ll be fast I
enough to take those gentlemen where they‘ll a
do no more mischief," answered the priest.

“ g‘ait‘h. and you know thim thin, sir?"

“ 'es.”

“Bad luck to thim ef your riverinee says
50.

“ I‘ll give you a chance, Michael, to prove
your words about desiring to lead a better
ife."

“Thry me, for the love o‘ God, your river- ‘
inee," exclaimed Mike, with a warmth that
made Clarice laugh.

“ \Vell, Mike, I intend to make those two
men prisoners.“

“Glory be to Moses, but it‘s a ﬁghting
praist ye are iverv toime." ,

The priest smiled, and, as they had now i
drawn nearer the two horsemen, who still ‘
kept their ground, and awaited their coming,
he said:

“ Mike, have you heard of a man in your
band by the name of Barney?"

“ ()h, but I have, bad luck to him, for he f
was foriver playing his pranks on me, an‘ 3
mesilf an Irishman like the spalpecn he is."

“ Did you know what became of him?"

“Thet “'hirlwind o' the West, Wild Bill, 1
was after killing him, your riverince."

“ You are mistaken, Mike, for he is one of l
those two men."

“The saints presarve us."

“ And the other is Nick Nesbit."

“ Faith, and the Whirlwind was afther
killing the loikes of him, too.”

" Well, those are the two men before us.”

“ Maybe it's their ghosts, father; but divil
a bit do I care so that I have your riverince
to stand between me and harum."

“ I‘ll protect you, Mike, from man or
ghost, if you do my bidding."

“ .list spake it to me, sur.”

“ Ride on ahead and let those men see who
you are. ,

“ Then tell them that we are friends, and '
Miss Courtney and myself will come on and
join ou.

“ hen we meet them, I intend to make
them prisoners."

“ IIowly Moses!" .

” Now go, sir, and I‘ll see if you betray '
me.

Mike was in a quandary. as regarded the
priest; but he rode on in advance, and as
the priest and the maiden rode up they saw
him talking earnestly to them.

“Ride a little upon my left, please, Miss
Courtney," said the riest, and the next in-
stant he rode. up an halted before the two ‘
men, who had been disarmed of their sus-
picions by the appearance of Irish Mike, and
nodded as the two drew rein.

Then the priest suddenly dropped his hands
upon his Ie s, the long tails of his coat were
thrown asi e, and from two pockets in the
pants upon the side of each leg he drew re-
volvers, while he said, sternly!

“Men, you are my prisonersl“

Had a regiment of cavalry charged them
down the stee sides of the can on, they
could not have ten more startle than by
the warlike act of the priest.

They looked, at any rate. distressed and
haggard. while their buckskin suits were in
tatters, as though they had passed through
some severe ordeal; but they turned deadly
pale at the words of the priest, and really
appeared to be pitiable objects, indeed.

arne was the ﬁrst to ain his accustom-
ed equi ibrium, and said, in his quaint
way:

“ ls you a pulpit-pouuder on the war-path,
or has yer been tacklin‘ tanglefoot, and you
is lettin‘ 01f yer fun on us?"

“There is no fun in it, sir, as you and
your companion will ﬁnd out,“ sternly said
the riest.

“ aal, yer had oughter be ashamed o‘
yerself ter carry Weepin’s and a. Bible-book
at ther same time." '

“Michael, disarm those two men," sternly
ordered the riest.

“Say, u pit-pounder pard, we is honest
miners w at hcv jist escaped from the Black-
feet Injuns.

“ They war a-goin’ ter torture us to death,
but two squnws chooscd an fer husbands,
and that saved us.

“ But we didn't like livin’ among heathen
Injuns, so we jist lovanted, and were on our

 
|
l
r
l

 
' “’3

way to the mines ter work honest, and now
you lights down upon us,” and Barney put
on a most woe-begone expression.

“Michael, disarm those men and bind

1 them. "

“ Not fer me!"

Barney almost 'elled the words. and. as
quick as a flash, h1s hand was upon a revel
ver, for he had determined to risk a shot.
from the priest.

But instantly came the ﬂash of the priests
revolver, and Barney, the outlaw, dropped
(lead from his saddle, while Clarice uttered
a cry of horror, and covered her face with
her hands to shut out the fearful sight.

“ Disann and bind that man, Michael, for

, the other does not need it," calmly said the

priest.

“Be jabers, but ye are afther saying thrue,
father, for his toes are turned up to the star-
light," said Mike, as he stepped forward and
disarmed Nick Nesbit, who was trembling

j with terror.

“Now, Mike, dig a grave for that man.
and you, sir, aid him!" ordered the priest.

“liowly Moses! but that is phat I calls
daciut, indade, for the father is afthtr kill—
in r the spalpeen, and thin burying hi .. with

g fu I sarvice.

“ Begorra, but a foine wake we‘d have
over Barney, if we had him up with the b‘ys.
fer he was a chipper lad was he."

Irish Mike then set to work, aided by
Nick Nesbit, and a grave was quickly dug
in the soft earth and the body placed in it.

“ Now tie that man to his horse, Michael,
and we’ll ride on.”

“Yes, yer riverince, and divil a prayer
will ye say over Barney?”

(I 0 V!

“Bad luck to him thin, he is not worth
it," and Mike soon had Nick Nesbit secure.
and leading the Indian pony of the dead
man, followed on by the side of his prisoner,
to whom he talked about—

“That same howly father that could be
afther slinging bullits as straight as prayers."

l’ressin rapidly on, the priest leading
with Clarice at his side, the party rode into
Camp Comfort Post 'ust after sunset, Irish
Mike with considerable dread as to his in
ture, and Nick N esbit feeling that his doom
was sealed.

 
CHAPTER XLV.
'rnE rarns'r‘s eoxrnssrox.

COLONEL DANGERFIELD Benn sat in' his
room at head- uarters, talking with Lieuten»
ant Harry Loc wood.

The latter had recovered from his wounds,
and was most anxious to be on the war-path
once more, against both the red-skins, who .
were becoming troublesome, and the Buck-
skin Bravos, whose lawless acts a ainst the
dwellers in, and emigrants to, the B ack llllls
had already begun.

The colonel and lieutenant were discussing
the best way to strike a blow at the Indians.
the former remarking:

“ We'll settle the Indian question ﬁrst.
Lockwood, and as for the road-agents, it will
be time enough to hit. them when Wild Bill
returns.”

“ But, colonel, are you not a little anxious
about Wild Bill, as his time is up when he
expected to return?" asked the young ofﬁcer.

“ No, for, somehow I feel that Hickok can
always look after himself most thoroughly—~
Well orderly, what is it?” and the colonel
turned to his orderly, who just then entered.

“ There is a priest here to see you, sir, and
he is accompanied by a lady, at comrade, and
a prisoner."

“ Indeed! a strange quartette, I should

3'- ,

“ But, orderly, show his reverence and the
lady in.”

Lieutenant Lockwood arose to depart.
when the colonel bade him remain, saying:

“I guess there is nothing of a private na-
ture to be discussed, Lockwood.

“ But who can they be?”

The young ofﬁcer was as unable as was the
colonel to ansWer this question, and the next
instant in walked the priest, already known
to the reader, accompanied by Clarice Court—

ne .

The moment that the handsome youn
lieutenant beheld Clarice he fell in love wi
her, while Colonel Burr bowed low with
marked respect, as he said:

 
4

mIEildBilltthe wmrlwind of the West.

 
“Be seated, lady, and you, too, sir, and
tell me how I can serve you."

The priest led Clarice to a chair, and, re-
maining standing himself, said, in his deep
tones:

“ Colonel Burr, permit me to present to
you Miss Courtney, a young lady I beg to
place under yOur protection for the present. ”

“ I certainly accept the responsibility of
Miss Courtney’s protector with a great deal
of pleasure; but may I ask, sir, your name?”
said the colonel, in his courtly way.

‘- You might call me Father James, sir,”
was the quiet reply.

Colonel Burr then presented Lieutenant
Lockwood to his guests, and the lights hav-
ing been brought in, he asked:

“Have we not met before, Father James?"

“ We have, sir."

“I must plead ignorance as to when and
where."

“ We last met, sir, in this room, some
weeks ago."

“ You astomsh me, sir, for I have received
no clerical visitor at this post for months.”

The priest gave a quiet laugh, and then
said:

“ Colonel Burr, I am glad to see that I
have passed the scrutiny of your keen eyes,
as I have that of others.

“ I am Father James B. Hickok—in other
words, Iam Wild Bill!”

In spite of the presence of a lady, the colo-
nel uttered something very like an oath, in
the intensity of his surprise, while Harry
Lockwood gave a shrill whistle and mutter-
ed.

“ ‘The devil a priest would be.’ "

“ No doubt I am the devil of a priest. lieu-
tenant, but I have passed muster with an
Irishman who was a good Catholic, and has

implored me to hear his confession, and,

more, I have stood the gaze of the Buckskin
Bravos in their own den."

“ And no wonder, Bill, when you have
cut off your long hair, shaved off your heavy

mustache, and gotten out of buckskin into 5

that clerical garb.

“ How on earth did you manage to desert
your pistols even to play priest?" and the
colonel laughed.

“ I did not desert them, sir, for I carry a
weapon in each breast pocket, and see, my
lon coat-tails hide these pockets I had made
in tie legs of my pants.”

“Then, sir, you are not a priest?

“ Ohl what docs all this mean?” cried
Clarice Courtney, rigeadingly.

Instantly Wi (1 ill became serious, and
turning to Clarice said, in his kindly way:

“Pardon me, Miss Courtney, but I owe
you a full eXplanation, and now that you
are among friends, I will give it to you for I
would not say aught to give ou pain, until

on were under the protect on of Colonel
urr."

“ Then you have something terrible to tell
me, for I see it in your face; know it,” said
Clarice." *

“I have that to tell you, Miss Courtney,
which will give you deep pain.

“ But you are a brave httle woman, and I
know will bear up under your sorrow.”

“ Oh. my poor father! my motherl" asp-
ed the oung girl, sinking down in here lair.

“ It is of your parents that Iwrll s eak,
Miss Courtney, and you shall know al , and
wh I have, in a measure, deceived you,”
sai Wild Bill, in a voice of gentle sympathy.

 
CHAPTER XLVI.
'rnE sprnnn’s wan.

F30! the manner of W'th Bill. and what
he said to Clarice Courtney, both Colonel
Burr and Harry Lockwood felt that he had
something important to communicate, and
they both quietly took their seats, while the
scout took his stand before the maiden, lean-
ing in a graceful attitude against the mantle.

"Miss Courtney,” began Wild Bill, in a
low but distinct voice:

“It pains me to tell you that you have
been basely deceived in being led to believe
that on would meet here your parents.”

“ h, Heavcn have mercy! Your words
tell me that they are dead,” groaned the un-
hap girl.

“ es, they are dead."

A sob broke from the white lips, and
the face became so pale that Colonel Burr

’ feared she would faint, and stepping toa

i cupboard, poured out for her a glass of wine
{ which he bade her drink.
I ghe obeyed him without a word, and then
sal :
“ I am strong now; please tell me all, sir."
“ Your father, Miss Courtney, dug from
 his mine a large fortune, and hoped to carry
i‘ it East with him, and there live in comfort
with those he loved.

“ But there was one in the mines whom he
trusted as a friend, and that one played him

alse.

“ This false friend was one who had
known your mother, and loved her lon
years before, but whom she had discardet
when she discovered his true character.

“ He soon after committed a crime which
drove him to the “'est a fugitive, and under
an almvs neither your father or mother knew
him when they met him here.

“But he knew them Well, and plotted re-
vengg.

“ is ﬁrst step was to gain their friend-
ship.

“This he did.

“ Then he began his devilish work by poi-
soning your father by inches.”

“ Oh, how fearful this is that you are tell-
ing me i" cried poor Clarice.

11“ Bear with me, and you shall soon know
a .

“ In this work he succeeded, and our
mother determined at once to return ast,
as soon as your father died.

“ This man, this murderer, Colorado King
by name, we; hcr guide, and the guide of
those who :.‘.;!l'l(‘(I with her.

“ They packed their gold upon horses and
started on their wav, your mother having
the one joy in her deep sorrow that she would
soon meet you.

“From their starting Colorado King he-
: gan again his deadly work, for he led them
f nr from the direct trail, made them believe
that he was lost. purposely missed all the
‘1 game he shot at. and literally starved them.”

“ The tiendl" said Colonel Burr, indig-
nantly.

“ Thus this villain led them, while he so-
cretly ate food which he had, and at last
caused them to be delayed so long that they
were caught in the first snow-storm of the
winter, and a fearful one it was.

“ With cold and starvation to struggle
against, it is not to be wondered at that they
died one by one.”

“ And my mother?” cried Clarice.

“ I {eld up bravely to the last, for she was
the last of that man’s victims to perish.

“ I was returning to this post, Miss Court-
ney, and came across their trail in the snow.

“ Following it, 1 came upon a scene I
can never forget, and for which there and
then I would have taken the life of Colorado
Kingé '
“ at your mother was d ing, and called
me to her side, and he got t e advantage of
me, giving me this wound on the head, and,
as he believed, killing me.

“But your mother received from me a
pledge that I would look you up and give to
you our fortune.

“ t he gave me this old wallet, which had
been your father’s, and now I give it to you
with its contents, as they were when I re-
ceived it from her.”

He took the leather wallet from his pocket
as he spoke, land seizin it, Clarice kissed it
over and over again, w ile she murmured:

“Thank you, oh, thank oul '

Resuming, Wild Bill said:

“ As the snow was coming down hard,
and believing he had killed me, anxious to
save his life by hastening to the pest, Colo-
rado King threw the gold packs into a cre-
vice in the rocks, intending to go on for them
this spring, and departed.

“ But soon revived, and good fortune
came to my aid in the shape of an Indian
girl, the Queen of the Blackfeet, who was be-
ing chased by Sioux.

“I saved hcr from them, and in return
she saved my life, for, suffering from the
fever that followed my being wounded, I
should have perished in the snow, had she
not taken me to the village of her people.

" There I remained all winter, and was
given up for dead. '

“ But early this spring I returned to this
post, and told Colonel Burr what I now tell

on.
3. “Here I found Celorado King; but he,

 
25

 
knowing his danger when he saw me alive,
made his escape, and placed himself at the
head of the Buckskin Bravos.

“ Determined that he should never get
your fortune, I securely hid it, and I buried
your poor mother, and thus was that wretch
thwarted.

“The chart of where your gold is buried
Colonel Burr has in his possession, and also
a map of just where to find the graves of
your mother and father, and I now ask the
colonel if he will not permit Lieutenant
Lockwood to escort you there for he can
bear the remains of your mother to bury
them by the side of our father, and bring
back the gold which is your inheritance.”

“By all means, Hickok, I will let Lock-
wood go, and I can speak for his being most
willing for the duty,” said the colonel.

“ Certainly, it will give me pleasure to
serve Miss Courtney in any wa in m
power," said the young ofﬁcer, penectly de-
lighted with thc opportunity to enjoy the
society of the beautiful girl.

“But will you not go, sir?” asked Clarice
of Bill.

“I have an important duty to perform at
once, Miss Courtney, and to delay your trip
until I could go would make it most hazard-
ous, for I am informed that there is a gen-
eral rising of the Indians intended in a short
time.

“ You can go to the grave of your father,
and return here in a week’s time easily, and
within that time I hope to give a good ac-
count 'of some work I have to do.

“Now will you tell us how it was that
you came to leave your home in Chicago?"

Clarice then told the same story which
Wild Bill had heard from the lips of her
aunt, Mrs. Richmond, and the colonel said:

“This certainly looks like underhand
work. Miss Courtney, for your parents could
never have sent for you.”

“I cannot believe that Mr. Carson would
deceive me, sir."

“But who is this Mr. Carson?”

“I know nothing of him, sir, other than
what he told me of himself.”

“Will you permit me to tell the colonel
and Lieutenant Lockwood of your capture
by the Bravos and what followed?" asked
Wild Bill.

“Certainly, sir, for there is nothing
which I care to conceal,” was the ready an-
swer of the young girl.

CHAPTER XLVII.
run smmzn AND THE FLY.

WILD BILL then asked Clarice to tell the
story of the capture of herself and Mr. Car-
son by the road-agents. which she did in a
most graphic manner, the scout making the
comment:

“ It seems that the Buckskins-knew of the
coming of Mr. Carson and Miss Courtney,
and were pre ared for them.”

“ lt certain y looks so, Hickok," answered
the colonel. '

“There is no doubt of that, for they had
horses to meet us at the int where they
halted the stage,” remarke Clarice.

" And you were both taken to the den of
the Bravos?” asked the lieutenant.

“Yes, sir.”

“ And now comes in the part I played, for
I went to Chicago. Miss Courtney, saw your
aunt, and when she told me you had come
West, I at once pledged her Iwould ﬁnd
you, and if a wrong had been done that I
would right it.

“I could not work as I then was, for all
knew me. so I hit upon a plan of action, and
that was to play priest.

“ With my long hair and mustache cut
off, and this clerical suit in place of my ber-
der attire, lassure you I did not recognize

 
myself.

“Arrivin at the station and ﬁnding the
stage one, bought a good horse, and the
next y met Buck Lee, the driver, on his

return, and on the box with him, colonel,
was the st sutlcr.

“Neit er of them knew me, and Buck
told me of the Buckskin Bravos’ work, and
I took their trail.

“As luck would have it, I came upon
Fighting Crow, the Blackfoot, with two
Sioux warriors, and Red Star, be having
kidnapped the latter from her village.

“ I picked off the Sioux, Fighting Crow
ran away, and I rescued Red Star.

 
26

‘ ‘ I had no time to take her to her people,
so carried her to the Black IIermit—”

“ Ah! that wild negro?”

“ Yes, colonel, and as I have twice saved
his life, he will serve me well.

“ I left her in his charge and returned to-
ward the robbers’ den, intending to visit it,
learn the approach, and then come and get
the lieutenant here to take the place, as we
could do with a score of his troopers.

“ Again my good fortune came to my aid,
for I spied two men coming down a steep hill.

“ One was on foot and leading his horse,
the other was riding, and he it was that got
a fall.

“ I rode up to find the one whose horse
had fallen with him was Father Moriaty,
from the Carter Mine Camps, and that he
was dead.”

“ Dead, IIiekok?"

“ Yes, colonel, and his companion was
Michael O’Doud, known as Irish Mike, in
the Buckskin Bravo band

“ Ile believed me a priest, wanted to con-
fess to me. and then told me that the Buck-
skins had two captives, and that they want-
ed a priest to marry them. for one was a
young girl, and the other a gentleman.

“ His story was that the band wanted ran-
som, and would let the lady go to get it, if
she was ﬁrst married to her fellow—captive,
and he was takino' Father Moriaty to the den
in the hope thatthe would perform the cere-
mony, but leading him to believe, to get him
there, that a number of the band were Cath-
olics, and wished to confess their sins and
repent.”

"The villain!“ said the colonel, angrily,
while Wild Bill continued:

“ I told him I would go, and after burying
the poor priest. and saying over him the
prayers for the dead, which I knew, I Went
on with Irish Mike, arriving there just after
dark.

“I saw Mr. Carson, and he told his story
of the terms of the ransom, and I toldhim I
would perform the ceremony if the lady con-
sented. and that if it was done at once, for I
knew that if 1 let the light of day shine on
me, some of those sharpeyed sinners would
penetrate mv disguise.

“ I saw Miss Courtney, and she, in her
wretchedness, and thankfulncss to Carson
for his kindness, consented, as he promised
to release her.

“ So 1 performed the ceremony, reading it
from the dead priest’s book, and Miss (Fourt—
ney may feel glad that she is not bound by
marriage ties.’

“ Indeed, I do feel ha ,ipy that such is the
case, for I could never have loved Mr. Car-
son, kind as he was to me.

I “ But I shall send the price of his ransom
and free him from the wretches,” said the
maiden, earnestly.

" And I will take the ransom for you,
Miss Courtney," said Bill.

“ And you will tell him that you were no
priest, yet let him know that I acted in
good faith?"

“ Yes; he shall know all; but to con-
tinue:

“ We left the retreat, for I . romised Mr.
Carson that I would see that it iss Courtney
got her fortune, and Irish Mike came as our
guide, intending to return when he put us
on the right trail to the fort.

“But, Colonel Burr, the poor devil is not
bad at heart, and I promised him that you
would forgive him and make a soldier of
him if he would come on with me, and he
has done so.

“Besides, he aided me in the killing of
one and capture of another of the Buckskin
Bravos, and the very ones whom I told you
the Blackfeet took oﬂ as prisoners.”

“ Ah, yes! Barney and N esbit were their
names?”

“ Yes, sir; and they escaped from the In-
dians, and were making their way to join
their outlaw pards when we met them.”

“ And one you killed?”

“ Yes, sir—I had to do it."

" Which one?”

" Barney. sir. ”

“ Well, you have N esbit?"

“ Yes, Irish Mike is guarding him. "

“ Then I shall have him hanged at sunrise,
lid Irish Mike can be 'n his service to the
Government by being '3 executioner, after

, which I will turn im over to LockWOod
here as a soldier.

 
Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West.

“But, Hickok, you certainly do not in-
tend to return to those outlaws to ransom
out that man Carson?"

“ I do not intend to take any ransom mon-
ey, sir, but I intend to return, for Mr. Car-
son is none other than the Spider, Colorado
King, who so cleverly caught the Fly, Miss
Courtney, in his web," was the reply of
Wild Bill, and it brought quickly to their
feet the two ofﬁcers and the maiden in un-
feigned horror and amazement.

“Great God! Ilickok, can you mean this?”
cried Colonel Burr, his voree hoarse with
emotion.

“ It is true, sir.”

“That Colorado King is the man Car—
son, who inveiglcd this poor girl from her
home?"

“ Yes, sir.“

“I thought he was dead.”

“ So did I, sir.”

“ \Vhy, he went over the bridge into the
ravine, you told me ?“

“He did, sir, and in some most miracu-
lous way he csca ed, and thou h he wears a
heavy false bear , I recognize him at once
as Colorado King, and l suspected that he
was not dead, when Mrs. Richmond describ-
ed the man with whom Miss Courtney had
left Chicago."

“Ch, sir! is this the man who murdered
my parents?" cried Clarice, white as a
corpse.

“ lie is the man."

“ Then may God’s punishment fall upon
him. is my prayer!" fervently said the
maiden.

“It shall, Miss Courtney, and I will be
the humble instrument Providence selects to
bring punishment upon him,” was Wild
Bill’s impressive answer.

CHAPTER XLVlIl.
rmsu MIKE IN ssnvren.

BRIGHT and early the following morning,
Wild Bill, who seemed not to know fatigue,
started off upon his perilous mission of cap-
turin Colorado King, while Clarice. after a
rest 0 a day and ni! ht, de artcd on her sad
errand, escorted by Iarr Eockwood and his
entire company of ga lant troopers, for
neither Colonel Burr nor himself cared to
risk a smaller force where the. life of the
youn girl was at stake. '

Be ore Wild Bill left the post, however,
an important niIair took place, which was
nothing more than the hanging of Nick
Nesbit, the outlaw.

Irish Mike did his work well as execu-
tioner, and ur ed the outlaw, who was
wholly unnerve :

('1‘ To die loike aman, if ycz have lived like
a o '.”

Then Irish Mike set off with Wild Bill, as
he asked-to accompany him, and the scout
felt that he might be made uscful.

Colonel Burr had offered Bill as many sol-
diers as he cared to take with him, to aid in
the capture of the outlaws; but he had
refused, stating that he believed he could ac-
complish more by strate than with force.

Upon leaving the post, Wild Bill and Irish
Mike took the trail direct for Black Hermit
Canyon.

As upon his arrival the scout was dressed
in his priestly garb, but Mike carried a
trusty Winchester which Herr Lockwood
loaned him, for Bill’s riﬂe had een left at
the station, as it did not look very well for a
priest to go armed through the country,
preaching peace with owder and ball.

Arrivin at Black Iermit Canyon, Wild
Bill foun Red Star delighted to see him.
while the negro; she said, had taken a short
run after game.

He had treated her most kindly, she said,
but she was delighted to see the scout and
anxious to get back to her people.

“Does the Red Star wish to help her
gelling braves ﬁnd some scalps?” asked Wild

1 . '

“ Oh, yes! the Red Star will be glad to go
on the war-path,” was the ready answer.

“ The Red Star knows the trail to her vil-
lage?”

“As the Red Star knows her own face
when she sees it in the waters of the brook.”

“ Could the Red Star go to her village and
return here with ten of her braves before an-
other sun comes?”

cl Yen")

“ Will she do so?"

 
" The white chief asks it?"

“ I do.”

“My braves will not be met by the war-
riors of the pale-face ?”

t t  )J

“ Then the lied Star will go, and her
braves will return with her before another
sun shall come.”

“She may tell them that each one shall
have a scalp to take back in triumph to their
villa re with them.”

“ Iy braves will be glat ," said Red Star.
and ﬁve minutes after she was mounted upon
her pony and urging him along at a swift
gallop on the trail to the village of her tribe.

Ilaving seen her depart, \Vild Bill turned
to Irish Mike and said:

“ Mike, you know that I am no priest
now?"

“ Yis, your rchrince—I mane, yis, sur:
bad-luck to mesilf for a fool for belavin‘ a
man with sich an eye could be contint to
pray sinful sowls out of Purgathory.”

“And 1 can trth you, Mike?"

“ Thrust me, is it? Jist be afther thrying
me.”

“I’ll hang you without trying you if you
pla me false; but I do not doubt you. Mike.
andV you shall be well paid for the work you
do, and become a soldier, too."

“ Maybe I’ll be a gineral yit, sur."

“ Maybe you will, Mike; but it will be
some time before that comes to pass. ”

“ A year or two, sur.”

“ Yes, a century or two; but can I trust
you to go to the Roost?”

“ Begorra! I’m your lad, sur.”

“ I wish you to return there and tell Mr.
Carson—"

“ The chafe, as you knows him?”

“Yes; tell Colorado King that you saw
the lady and myself in sight of the post. and
that I. sent word that I would return in a
few days with the ransom money.”

“ Divil a bit will he see.”

“ But tell him so.”

“ ()ch, sure, and I kin lie with the best of
thim. sur.”

“Tell him that the lady sent him word
that she would also expect to see him after
he left the Roost.”

“ She’ll be afther sayin’ him hanged, sur."

“ She will see him, at any rate.”

, “ Yis, sur."

“ Then you remain at the Boost until I
come.” i

“ Yis, sir.”

“If you think I am suspected—"

“ Of being the Whirlwind, sur?”

“ Yes, for so I am called; if you see I am
suspected, slip out at night, come here and
tell me.”

“I’ll do it, sur.”

“Now, Mike, be off as soon as you ct
your dinner, and serve me well if you wash
to save your neck and be well paid for your
work.”

“ I’ll do it, sur," responded Mike, and af-
ter eating a hasty meal, be mounted his horse
and departed, while Wild Bill threw himself
down upon a buffalo-robe to rest and await
the return of the Black Hermit, who he knew
would not be much longer away.

CHAPTER XLIX.
THE scou'r’s PLOT.

WILD BILL had just awakened from a
short nap, 'when the Black Hermit came up
at his swinging walk, carrying upon his
broad shoulders a deer and some smaller
'ame. .

E He greeted the scout warmly, yet seemed
surprised to ﬁnd Red Star gone.

His curiosity on that score was soon satis-
ﬂed, for Wild Bill told him that he had sent
her away, and then he opened his door and
allowed his wolf to come out, as he had shut
him up when he left, fearing he would at»
tack Red Star.

Ham seemed most happy; too, when Wild '
Bill told him he was to be is guest until the.
following day, and then the scout added:

“ Ham, I want. you to be friends with the
Blackfeet. for they were not the Indians
who killed your master and his family."

“ No, massa; dem was Sioux, cuss ’em!”

"Well, Red Star is coming back to-mor-
row, and I have asked her to bring some
warriors with her.”

“Golly! thar‘ll be a tremenjous ﬁght,
massa.”

“No, they are coming to do some work

 
wad Bill, the Whirlwind of th West.

27

mighty soon, and to prove this the more
fully he had added on his own account:

“That we met a sojer, sur, afore I left
thim, and thet sojer says, says he, thet the
goold was afther having been brought by
that. wild Whirlwind 0’ the VVist, Bill
Hickok, to the fort afore he was l‘avin’ for
Southern parts, so that the young Ieddy, sur.
will ﬁnd the dust awaitin’ her."

 
for me, and will be most friendly toward to be on their guard, for their fees were,
you.” coming, and then he quietly went back up i
“ Well, massa, if you say it’s all right, I l the canyon and secured a hiding-place which i
am satisfy.” the outlaws must pass. '
“ I do say so. Ham, and I will have some  He had not long to wait before they came
work for you to do, too." } along, Sergeant Duff in advance, and all of
“ I’ll be dar, salt." ; them laughing and chatting together in an—
“I know that you will; but now tell me, gticipation of their red work and the spoils
do you not they were to get.

 
know Colorado King and his ‘

band?" ” Whar is the nigger?"called out one, as I This news pleased Colorado King greatly.
“De Buckskin Braves, sail?” ,he glanced back and did not see the Black and he paced to and fro upon the peak.
“Yes.” 3 Hermit. ;‘ where he could obtain a good view of the

“ Yas, I knows ’em.”

“ Are on friendly with them?”

“Well: sah, dey has helped some time
when I were in a tight place wid de Sioux,
and I likes 'em for it, though I hain’t got
much use fer men as lives by stealin’ from
Oder folkses."

“I am glad to hear you say so; but do you '

know where their camp is?"
“ The last one?"
“ Yes. "
“ ()n dc peak?"
“ Yes.”
“I knows it, sah, fer I told Massa Colo-

rado King whar it was, and what a good . 1

place it would be fer a hidin’place.”

“ Well. tomorrow I am gom there, and
I wish you to go there for me, a so.”

“ I’ll go, sah.”

“ Then that settles it, and now I can rest
content until Red Star and her braves ar-
rive,” said Wild Bill, evidently greatly
pleased at the way his plot was working.

True to her\promise, in the earl glimmer
of the following morning, Red
galloping down the canyon with half a score
of braves at her back.

They halted betore the cavern, and seemed
a little su rised to see both Wild Bill and
the Black Ierinit, but Red Star said a few

words to them in a low tone, and they re- ,

mained as stolid as statues.

“Now, IIam,I wish you to go with all
speed to the Boost. and tell Colorado King
that there is a rich train going down the

Dead Man‘s Valley, and it only has six men 3

of his band

to guard it, and that as man?7
Den Pass.

can ambush it to-night at W01

“Tell them to start at once, and when :
on approach ’Wolf Den Pass, you dropl

ck, and I will see that they are caught in
a has.

“ 0 you understand?”

” Yas. massa.”

“ Then go at once."

The negro, who was always armed, darted
away at a run which Wil Bill knew he
could keep up for hours, and then, mounting
his horse, the scout led Red Star and her
warriors on the trail to Wolf Den Pass.

This pass seemed formed by nature for a
place of ambuscade. and so few ever went

that way, either Indian, trapper, or guide, ,
that it had become the retreat of a. pack of :

wolves.

It had steep sides. covered with dwarf
trees, ran a zigzag course for a mile, and at
the entrance and outlet merged into a lovely
valle .

Seizeral times hostiles had met there and
had severe battles, and human bones were
scattered about in profusion, for those who
fell in the pass weregtlways left for the
wolves.

As it would not be wise for Wild Bill to
leave a trail for the outlaws to see, and
thus suspect trouble, he had to make a wide
circuit to gain the lower end of the pass.

' Once there he soon had the Indians con-
ceal their ponies, and then he located each
warrior to the best advantage, intending
that the outlaws should get hemmed in,
in front and rear, before a shot should be

To his great delight, Wild Bill, who went ,

himself on a scout to see if his foes were
coming, s ied the outlaws, eight in number,
coming a on at a brisk pace through the
valley, and t e Black Hermit, though on
foot, following with apparent case.

“They are so anxious to rob and kill,
that they have not delayed an instant after
the negro gave them the news,” he mut-
te

Placing a small glass to his eye he con-
tinned:
“ Yes, Colorado King has remained at the
and sent Sergeant Duff in command.
“ That is just as I wished it to be.”
Returning to the pass, he told the warriors

tar came ‘

i “ 0h, he jist stopped ter take a stone out

io’ his moc’sin," was the response, and the

‘ party passed on, while Wild Bill came out of

{his iding-place just as the Black Hermit

, appeared, coming slowly along.

, _‘(‘iWell, Ham, you have done well,” he
sat .

“Thankee, massa; but whar is do In-

, juns?”

‘ Before an answer could be returned, there

1 came the crack of riﬂes, and then followed a

; series of wild yells.

} No answerin shots or cries were heard,
and silence foﬁowing, Wild Bill said quiet-

; “ Come, Ham, for the Blackfeet have done

1 their work well. ”

‘ Arriving upon the scene they found the

‘ red-skins masters of the ﬁeld, and in posses-
sion of their foes’ scalps and ponies.

“Now, Ham, mount one of their horses
and lead them back to your canyon, where
you must ﬁnd them a secure camping-place.

“ I will arrive there to-night, some time.”

“ Yas, massa.”

I “But ﬁrst take the clothing of these dead
men and put it all together upon one pony,

, for I may need it.”

‘ “Yas, massa," answered the Black Her-

I mit and then, after a moment, he said:

“ Massa Bill?”

“Well, Ham?”

| “ Is you gwine to de Roost?”

; “ Yes.”

i “ An’ ou ’spects some time soon to light

I

|

l

in ’pon em outlaws dar?"

“Yes, ver soon.”
“ Waal, l assa Bill, I has a favor to ax of
you.”

“ What is it, Ham, for I will be glad to

please you?"
i ” Yer see dot is one pusson in de Roost
i dat I don’t want ter see hurted.”
t “ Who is that, Ham?”

“ Dey calls her Kittie, de Sport, sah.”

i “Ah! I have heard that there was a wo-
f Luau connected with the band, but never saw
i er.
“ Who is she, Ham?"
“ She were de darter o’ ther former cap’n
. of do band, and she Babe my life on’st.”
i “ Indeed!”
; “ Yes, sah, she come along jist in time ter
tackle a b'ar that was makin’ it more data
hot for me, an’ she tuk me to my house an’
sent one of de band ter look arter me.

“ His name were Barney, and 1 w’u’dn’t
want ter see him hurted nuther, of he were
thar, but do tole me you hed kilt him some
time ago, w en 1 axed dem to-day.”

“Yes, Barney is out of all troubles now,

am; but tell me more of this Kittie the

“ Waal, sah, all I knows is dat day calls
her dat, and she den’t take no rt in de
performance 0’ robbin’ folkses, t 0’ she do
play a peer-t me o’ keerds, and wins de dust

rom de Buc skins mi hty lively.”

“And she is in the oost now?”

“ Yas, sah, but she am laid up from being
hurted by a wounded elk some time ago,
thou h she is nigh about well now.”

“ ell, Ham, Kittie the Sport shall not
suffer, I assure you,” answered Wild Bill,
and mountinlgohis horse he rode of! on the
trail to the bbers’ Roost, while Red Star
and her braves returned with the negro to
Black Hermit’s Canyon.

 
CHAPTER L.
Kim THE sron'r.

A nos-r anxious watch did Mr. Carson, or
as the reader now knows him, Colorado
King, keep for the coming of the priest,
even before the time when it was 'ble
. for him to t hack and attend to what it
= was expecte that he would do.

 
,3 Irish Mike had arrived all ri ht and in-

formed him that the priest wou d be back

/

l

l

 
trail leading to the Roost.

“I am in luck,” he muttered, “for that
train, which I have sent Duff to Wolf Den
Pass to attack, will doubtless pan out well,
and the priest will soon be here, for surely
that irl will never go hack on me.

“ o, no, she would not desert me, I
know, believing me to be different from
what I really am.

“ And she‘ll not keep me away from her.
either, for I will win her love, by fair means
iflcan for the sake of peace; but if she is
stubborn, then a knife will end her, and as.
she is my wife, I will have her gold.

“ Ha! ha! this was a clever game of mine,
and it will win, too, and then I shall hunt
Wild Bill up and avenge myself on him—-
Ha! Kittie, you look like a ghost, and start-
led me," and the man turned quickly as a
slender form appeared before him.

It was a young girl, very pale, yet very
pretty, and she was dressed in a jaunty suit
of buckskin, with a short skirt, leggings and
hunting-shirt.

About her waist was a belt of arms, and
she looked like one who would use them.

She now appeared like one who had been
ill, and in fact was just recovering from a
wound she had received from a wounded
elk ,
The daughter of a man who had once
been honorable and held rank in the army.
but whom dissipation and gamblino' had
driven to outlawry, she had been carned by
her father to the retreat of the robbers, and
grown up in their midst.

Never had she taken a hand in their rob—
beries, and her days had been passed in
huntin and trapping, her evenings in camp
in car -playing, and she ’most always won
from those whom she la ed with.

Her father had been il ed a car previous.
before the band came 11 into t e Black Hills
from the Overland trails, and she had re-
mained with the outlaws.

' Colorado King and others had sought to
win her love, but to all she gave the cold
shoulder, and was, in a measure, feared by
the outlaws, whom she frequently held in
check from doing red deeds.

“ Yes; I do not wonder that you are afraid
of ghosts, when you have on your conscience
the lives of so many human beings," was the
sneering response of the gig.

“ We will not discuss t t, Kittie, but tell
me how on are?”

“ Oh, am well again, and I would have
been up before, had I known of the little

8 you were playing against a poor girl
whom an broug t to this cam .”

“Ta ecare, ittie Clyde; not go too
far,” threateningly said the chief.

“ Bah! I do not fear you, Colorado King.
though men tremble at your name, and I
warn you not to attempt any high-handed
game against one of my own sex, or I will
thwart you,” and with this the oung girl
walked away, while Colorado ' g mut—
tered:

“The girl is inclined tobe troublesome.
and if I was goin to remain chief of this
band I’d get rid 0 her. .

“But 1 will soon be awn , and then she.
can worry Duff, whom I will eavo aschief—
Hal there comes the priest at last!

“ Now I will know all, and my lucky star
is in the ascendant.

“ Now to put on my false beard and play
the part of Mr. Carson, the outlaws‘ captive, ‘
and with a smile of triumph Colorado King
hastened owe to his stone but to prepare to.
keep up his p at of villainy.

 
CHAPTER Ll.
cucmno AT THE am.
WHEN Wild Bill, in his garb of a priest,
rode up to the ROOst, he was met by an out-
law guard, and was told that Mr. Carson

\

 
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28

 
could be seen at once, but that he had been
ke t bound since the departure of his wife.

e was then led out, and taking from a
pair of saddle-bags he carried, several bags
of gold-dust, the supposed priest said:

“ This is the gold sent as a ransom, so let
your chief see that it is right.”

“Oh, it are all right, as I knows what gold
is,” said an outlaw, acting as spokesman.

“Then I suppose your captive can now
go with me?"

” Yes; and we’ll be glad to get rid of him,
for be are awful troublesome,” was the an-
swer.

Colorado King was most anxious himself
to get away, as he feared that Kittie, the
Sport, might put in an appearance and ruin
all, so he was led off by the outlaws to a
cabin, and there giving them a share of the
gold, placed the rest in his blanket, which he
rolled up and tied to his saddle.

Then he came out and told the supposed
priest in a joyous tone that he was free.

As they were about to ride awn Kittie
was seen approaching, but Colors 0 King
hastened off, and they left the Boost just as
the sun touched the Western horizon.

“ So you 'ot safely to the post?" asked the
outlaw ehieil.

“ Oh, yes, and as the scout— Wild Bill,
you call him, I believe?"

“ Yes, Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the
West, he is called, and he is a perfect hurri-
cane, too."

“ W'ell, he lnrd given Colonel Burr a chart
of where to ﬁnd the gold, and so I had no
difﬁculty in getting what was needed for
your ransom. "

“ Ah, yes, and it was noble in Clarice. my
beautiful wife. to send it for my ransom.

“But where is she?-tor you could not
have taken her to Cheyenne. of course.”

“ No, but we. will meet her. for I go now
to pass the night at the home of a poor ne-
gro, whom l know well."

“Ha! the Black Hermit?"

“ Yes, so he is called, and we can go on
from there in the morning.”

"Well, that will do, and I am so glad to

Enow that Clarice will not drive me from ‘

er.”

“No, she will see on,” was the evasive
reply, and the two r0( 0 on in the darkness,
the outlaw wondering at the pretended
priest's knowledge of the country.

At last they arrived at the canyon, and a
hail from the priest brought an answer from
the Black Hermit.

“Ham, can you take care of two of us,
to-ni ht?”

“ 9 dat you, Massa Priest?”_2

“ Yes.”

“ I kin take car’ ob you, sah— Git out
ob do we an' quit (lat growlin’, you out-
dashus woif. Come in, sub."

The two men dismounted at the door,
which Ham now tlnew open, showing a
bright ﬁre-light within the cavern, and while
the negro took their horses, they entered.

“Sit down, Mr. Carson," said Wild Bill,
placing a rude chair for the outlaw, who
sunk into it as though mechanically

“ Now, Colorado King, you are my pris-
oner!”

Quick as thought Wild Bill had turned
upon him and covered him with a revolver.

Turning deadly pale, Colorado King tried
to rise from the chair, but was forced back,
while the Black Hermit step ing into the
door also held him covered, and) said:

“Better keep quiet, bad man, for dis gun .

kin ooﬂ.”

“ rapped!” hissed the outlaw.

“ Yes, Colorado King. or Kent Kingsley,
you caught at m bait, and the gold dust
which I invested in ransom I will get back,
as I know you have the most of it with you.

“Did I lose it all, I would be well repaid
in catching you."

“Now
hoarsely said the outlaw.

“ Yes, and it has took you a long time to
find me out: but this disguise has served
me well, and I put it on to track you, Kent
Kingsley.

“ went to Chicago, to kee my pledge
to that dying woman, for I iielieved you
dead, and there I discovered your little game
to get that poor girl's fortune, and I hold
mung): against your poor hand.”

“ h, curses upon you! to think that after
I took that fearful Ileap from the bridge

now you, Wild Bill Hickok!" :

 
? tear to his memory,

 
~ *...___._..4.,. ——~ .---

 
Wild 13111, the Whirlwind of the West. _. g

and escaped death, that I should thus be
can ht," hissed Colorado King, his face
livi with rage.

“And more, Sir Chief, the rold-train your
men went after to-day existed in my imagi-
nation, and their scalps are now hanging at
the belts of my allies, lied Star and her
Blackfoot braves, who tomorrow will add
to their gory trophies, for we go to attack
your stronghold now, and. dressed in the

buckskin attire of those who were slain to— ,

day, no one at the Roost will suspect that we
are not their comrades returning.

“Now, llam, secure this man, and J leave
him to your care." ‘

“I keep him, sah," was the ready answer,
and taking from his pocket some irons he .
had brought from the fort, 'Wild Bill handed ‘
them to the negro, who quickl ' slipped them
upon the wrists and ankles of) the prisoner. ~

Then lied Star and her braves were called,
and all mounting, with )olorado King
bound to his horse, the party set forth for
the Robbeis' Roost, Where seven of the
Buckskin Bravos yet remained, besides Irish
Mike and Kitty the Sport.

 
CHAPTER LII.
CONCLUSION.

A new words more. kind reader, and the
long trail of Wild Bill the Whirlwind of the
West, which We have followed so untiringly
through its wanderings in the Black Hills, is ‘
cnde .

Without the death of one of his allies, and
only a few slight wounds to several of the
warriors, the Robbers" Roost was carried,
and the senlps of the outlaws, with the
plunder, went to the braves of lied Star.

Irish Mike and Kittie the Sport were, of
course, not harmed, and accompanied the
scout back to the post, while lied Star and
her warriors returned to their people, the In-
dian girl feclingthat she loved the white,
chief in vain, but declaring that her bl'nvcs 

l

should not again take the war-path against
the pale-laces.

llam, the Black Hermit, declined Vl'ild
Bill‘s l‘ifq""~l to go and live at the post, pre- ‘
l‘erring his solitary life, so he went back to
his den in the canyon, while the scout con-
tinued on his way to the camp with his
prisoners, and was followed by Kittie the
Sport and Irish Mike, both of the latter
being happy that the bend of outlaws was
broken up.

Arriving at the post, Wild Bill was greet-
ed with wild cheers, and at once was closet-
ed with (Yolonel Burr to whom he told the
story of his ca )turc.

Soon after ieutenant Harry Lockwood
returned with Clarice Courtney, and they
had accomplished what they went for, as
Mrs. Courtney’s bod had been removed to
a ave by the side 0 her husband, and the
go (1 had been found and brought to the post.

And, I may as well here remark that the ,1

trip into the Hills together, pla ed havoc!
with the hearts of both Ilarry Loc wood and I
Clarice, and to such an extent that the
maiden some months after became the bride .’
of the handsome lieutenant.
Colorado King had a lair trial, was found ‘
guilty and was hanged. lrish Mike againv
serving as hangman, dressed in a new uni-
form, for he had become a soldier. '
Kittie the Sport was adopted as a Child of
the Regiment, and soon was a favorite with
all, but articularly so with a young ser-l
geant, w ose wife she became. 1
As for Wild Bill, his deeds have gone;
down to history, and we can only drop a‘
and reoret that a man so

' brave should have fallen lb the hand of a

 
cowardly assassin and thus ve the star of
his life set in gloom.

THE END.

 
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75 The. Boy Duelist; or, he Cruise of the
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‘76 Abe (Jolt, the Crow-Killer; or, The Great
Fighting Man of the West. By Albert W. Aiken.

77 Corduro charlie, the Boy Brew; or,
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78 Blue Dick; or, The Yclow Chief’s Voll-
geance. By Captain Mayne Rcld.

79 Sol Gin or the Giant Trapper' or The
Flower of t e Blackieet. By Albert W. Aiken.

80 Rosebud Rob; or. Nugget Ned. the Knight
of the Gulch. By Edward L. Wheeler.

81 Liii'htnln'r Jo, the Terror of the Prairie.
B Captain . . F. C. Adams.

82 IE“ Harei‘oot, the Wood-Hawk; or. Old

Powder-Face and His Demons. By T. C. Har-
bau ll.

83 Ho 10 the Bon Ranger; or. The Heiress of the
Golden orn. y Oil Coonlcs.

84 Id 1, the Girl Minn-r; or. Rosebud Rob on Hand.
B ward L. \Vheelcr.

85 lzuck Buckram; or, B as, the Female
Trapper. By Captain J. F. C. Adams.

86 Band Rock, the Man From Texas. By
G. Waii 0 Brown.

87 The Land Pirates‘ or. The League of
Devil‘s Island. By Capta n Mayne R: id.

88 Photograph Phil, the Bo Sleuth; or;
Rosebud Rob‘s Reappearance. y Edward L.
Wheeler.

89 Island Jim; or. The Pet of the Family. By
Bracebridge‘Henllylig.

90 The Dread 1 er; or, The Texan Duelist.
By George W. Browne.

91 The Ca taln of the Club; or. TheYnung
Rival Ath etes. By Braccbridge Hemyngy (Jack
Harkaway.)

92 Canada Chet, the Counterfeiter Chief; or,
Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull‘s Camp. By Ed-
ward L. Wheeler.

93 The Boy": Mincrs’ or, The Enchanted
Island. B dward 8. Ellis.

94 Midnl it Jack, theRoad-A
Gid the 0g Trapper of the
C. arbaug .

95 The Rival Rovers; or. The Freebooters
of the Mississippi. By ﬂout-Colonel Hazeltine.

96 Watch-E c, the ShadOW° or. Arabs and
Angels of a reat City. By Edward L. Wheeler.

9'1 The Outlaw Brothers; or. The Captive
of the Har s. By John J. Marshall.

98 Robin ood, the Outlawcd Earl; or. The
Merry Men of Greenwood. By Prof. Stewart
Gildersieeve.

99 The Tiger of Taos; or. Wild Kate. Dandy
Rock‘s Angel. B George Waldo Browne.

100 Deadwood ick in Leadvlllc; or.
A Strange Stroke for Liberty. By Edward L.
Wheeler.

1 01 .1th Harknway in New York; or,The
Adventures of the Traveler’s Club. By Bruce—

nt; or, Go her
eyenne. y T.

brid Hemyng (Jack Harkawaﬁ).
102 Die Dead-Eye, the Boy muggier; or,
The Cruise of the Vixen. By 001 In m.

103 The Lion oi the Sea; or, e Vaiicd
. Lady of San Tro 2:. By Colonel Delle Sara.
104 Deadw od ick’s Device; or. The
of the Double. Cross. By E. L. Wheeler.
105 0 (1 Hubs, the Hunter; or The Crow Cap-
tive. By Captain Hamilton Holmes.
106 old Frosty, the Guide: or, Niokana. the

White ucen of the Blackfeet. By T. C.
Harbail‘g

107 unc- cd Sim ' or. The Abandoned Forest
Home. James  Bowen.

 
108 During Davy, the Young Bear Killer; or, .
The Trail of the Border Wolf. By Harry St. *

George.
109 Dcsddwood Dick As Detective. By

Edwa eeler.

110 The Black Steed orthc Prairies. By
James L. Bowen.

1 1 l The Sen-Devil; or, The Midshipmgnvg
Legacy. By Col. Prentiss Inga-sham,

112 The Mad Hunter; or, The Cave of
Death. By Burton Saxc.

1 13 Jack Hoyle the Young Speculator; or,
The Road to Fortune. By E. L. Wheeler.

114 The Black chooncr; or, Jib dunk, the
Old Tar. By Roger Starbuck.

1 l 5 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom.
B G. Waldo Browne.

1 16 ' ho Hus-ar Ca tain ; or. The Hermitoi'
Hell-Gate. By Col. ntiss In ham.

1 l7 Gilt-Edged Dick, the port'Detective'
gag}? Road-Agent’s Daughter. lly Edward

. color.

1 18 Will Somers, the Boy Detective By
Charles Morris. .

1 19 Mustang Sam; or, the King of the Flame.
3 Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

120 '1th Bannded Hand; or. The Man of
M stery. By Frank Dumont.

121 (l nnamon Chip, the Girl S rt' or. The
Golden idol or Mt. m 133,- E. . Wheeler.

122 Phil Hardy, the Boss 0%; or. The Mys-
tery of the Strongbow. By C arles Morris.

123 K own Charley, the White Mustanlzer;
or, Roe Mountain Kit’s Last Scalp Hunt.
By T. C. arbaugh.

124 ippy the Texan ; or. The YoungCham-
gon. By George Gleason.

125 onsnzs I! ll, Miner; or, Madam Mys-
tery, the Female Forger. By E. L. Wheeler.

126 Picayune Pete or. Nicodemus, the Dog
Detective. By Char es Morris.

127 Wild-Fire, the Boss of the Road: or. The
Wolves of Satan’s Gap. By Frank Dumont.

128 The Young Privateer; or. The Pirate‘s
Stronghold. y Harry Cavendish.

 
129 DeadWood Dick’s Double ° or, The
Ghost of Gorgon’s Gulch. By E. L. Wheeler.

130 Detective nick; or. The Hero m Race
By Charles Morris.

131 The Golden Hand' or, Dandy Rock to
the Rescue. B George Waldo Browne.

132 The Hnntc Hunter; or, The Strange
Horseman of the Prairie. By Edward S. Ellis.

133 Boss Bob, the King of B00tblacks‘ or. The
Pawnbroker’s Plot. By Edward L. Wheeler.

134 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Riﬂeman; or. The
Young Patriots of the North. By Oll Ooomes.

135 Captain Paul, the Kentucky Moonshiner;
or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains. By C
Dunning Clark.

136 Night-Hawk Kit; or. The Daughter of
the Ranch. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

137 The Helpless Hand; or. Backwoods
Retribution By Captain Mayne Reid.

138 Blondc Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home
Base. By Edward L. Wheeler.

139 Judge Lynch, Jr.; or, The Boy Vigilante.
By T. C. Harhaugh.

140 Blue Blnzcs' or, The Break 0‘ Day Boys
of Rocky Bar. By Frank Dumont.

141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-A out; or, The
Branded Brows. By Edward L. Vheeler.

142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detec-
tive. B Charles Morris.

143 Scar- ace Saul, the Silent Hunter; or,
The Myste of Fort Rane. By 011 Coomes.

144 Dainty ance, tho Bo S rt: or. The
Bank-Breakers’ Decoy Duc'. y Joseph E.
Badger. Jr.

145 Cu taln Ferret, the New York Detective;
or, ss Bob‘s Boss Job. B E. L. Wheeler.

146 Silver Star, the Boy Knig t. B 011 Coomes.

147 \Vlil \Vildiire the Thorough red; or, The
Winning Hand. By Charles Morris.

148 Shar Sam; or The Adventures of a
Fricn I ess Boy. By J. Alexander Patten.

149 A Game of Gold or. Deadwood Dick‘s
Big Strike. By Edwar L. Wheeler.

150 Lance and Lasso; or, The Children of
the Chaco. By Ca tain Fred. Whittaker.

151 Panther au , the Prairie Pirate; or,

Dainty Lance to the Rescue. By Joseph E.

Badger. Jr.

1 5‘ lllack Bess, Will Wildﬂre’s Racer; or, Win-

. mng Against Odds. By Charles Morris.

-53 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon; or, The Out.
laws of the Gold Hills. By 011 Coomes.

154 The Sword Hunters; or. The Land of
the Elephant Riders. By Capt. F. Whittaker.

155 Gold Trigger, the Sport; or, The Girl
Aven er. By (.. Harballgh.

156 Don wood Dick of Deadwood; or.
The Picked Party. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

157 Mike Merry. the Harbor Police Boy; or,
'{Iheritiiight-Hawks of Philadelphia. By Charles

or s.

1 58 Fancy Frank, of Colorado; or. The Trap-
per's Trust. By Buffalo Bill.

1 59 The Lost I'nptain or. Skipper Jabez

Comn‘s Cruise to the pen Polar Sea. By

Ca t. Fred. Whittaker.

160 T 6 Black Giant or, Dainty Lance in
Jeopardy. B Joe. E. ‘dger. Jr.

161 Nc\v York 911, the Boy‘Girl Detective; or,
Old lakesly‘s Money. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

1 62 “’11 ildiirc in the Woods or. Camp
Life in theAlieghanies. By Chas. orris.

163 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. By
Oil Coomes.

161 Dandy Rock’s Pledge; or, Hunted to
Death. By George Waldo Browne.

1 65 Hill y Brigg go, the Railroad Boy; or. Run
to Earth. Charles Morris.

166 Hickory arry; or, The Trapper-Bri-
gadc’s Spy. By Harry St. George.

167 Asa Scott, the Steamboat Boy; or The Land
Pirates of the Mississi i. By Ed. Willett.

1 68 DeadlgDash ; ong‘lghting Fire With Fire.
By Joe. . Badger, Jr.

169 Tornado Tom; or, Injun Jack From Red
Core. By T. C. Harbsugh.

170 “ A Trum Card", or Will Wildﬁre Wins
and Loses. y Char es Morris.

1 Ebon Dal-B; or, The Rival Leagues of

Silver ‘ircle. ty Frank Dumont.

172 Tlinndcrboi Tom; or The Wolf-Herder
of the Rockies. By Harry St. George.

173 Dandy Rock’s Riva” or, The Hunted
Maid of Taos. By George aldo Browne.

174 Bob Rockctt, the (a Dod er; or, Mys-
teries of New York. By arlcs orris.

1'15 Captain Arizona, the King Pin of Road.
Agents; or, Patent-Leather Joe's Big Game.
By Philip S. Warns.

176 The Boy Runaway; or The Buccaneer
of the Bag. By Lieut. H. D. Perry U. s. N

177 Nobbv ick of Nevada; or. eScamps
of the Sierras. By Edward L. Wheeler.

1 78 Old SollInry, the Hermit Trapper; or, The
Dra on of Silver Lake. By Oil Coomes.

179 Bo Rockcit, the Bank Runner; or, The
Road to Ruin. By Charles Morris.

180 The Son Trailer; or. A Vow Well Kept.
By Lieut. H. D. Pong, U. S. N.

181 \ lid Frank, t e Buckskin Bravo; or,

Lady Li ‘s Love. By Edward L. Wheeler.

182 Little nrricnnc. the Boy Captain; or

The Oath of the Young Avengers. By Oli

Coomcs.

188 The Hidden Hand; or, Will Wildﬂre’s
Reveng B‘Charies Morris.

184 The n rollers; or. Dainty Lanes on
the War- th. By Joseph E. , Jr.

185 Evil Eye, Ki of Cattle Thieves- or, The
Vultures of the o Grands. By F. most.

1'

i

 
186 Cool Desmond; or, The Gambler’s Big
Game. By Col. Delle Sara.

187 Fred Hnlyard, the Life Boat Boy: or, The
Smug lers of the inlet. By Charles Morris.

188 Ned empie the Border Bo ; or 'ihe Mad
Hunler of Powder River. By . C. Harbaugh.

189 Bob Beckett, the Cracksman; or, Driven
to the Wall. Bv Charles Morris.

190 Dandy Darke' or, The Tigers of High
Pine. y Wm. R. Byster.

191 Bull'an Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker; or,
The Doomed Thirteen. By Capt A. B. Taylor.

192 captain Kit, the Will-o’ihe-Wisp; or. The
Mysteryyof Montauk Point. By Lieut. H. D.
Perry, . S. N.

193 i apiain Mask. the Lady Road-Agent; or.
Patent-Leather Joe‘s Defeat. By P. S. Warne.

194 Buffalo Bill’s Bet ° or. The Gambler
Guide. By Capt. Alfred  Taylor, U. S. A.

195 Dcadwaod Dick’s Dream ' or, The Ri-
vals of the Road. By Edward L. Wheeler.

196 Shadows-ed; or. ob Rockett‘s Fight for
Life. By Charles Morris.

197 Little Grit, the Wild Rider: or. Bessie, the
Stock-Tender’s Dau liter. By C01. Ingraham.

198 Arkansaw the an with the Knife; or,
The Queen of ate’s Revenge. By Barbe. h.

199 Featherweight, the B0 Champion of t e
Muskingum ' or, On his uscle, Wits and
Honor. By ward Willett.

200 The Boy Bedouins° or, The Brothers of
the Plumed Lance. By apt F. Whittaker.

201 The Black Hills Jezebel; or, Dead-
wood Dick’s Ward. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

202 Prospect Pete, of the Boy Brigade; or, The
Young Outlaw Hunters. B£ Oli Coomes.

203 The Boy Pards; or, ainiy Lance Un—
masks. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.

204 Gold Plume, the Boy Bandit; or The Kid-
Glove Sport. B Col. Prentiss Ingra .

205 DeadWood lck’s Doom; or Calamity
Jane’s Last Adventure. By Ed. L. hecier.

206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King; or, Caught in
His Own Trap. By Charles Morris.

207 Nova 0 Nick, the B0 Gold Hunter; or,
The T ree Pards of the tic Buttes. By
T. C. Harbaugh.

208 The Bo Hercules; or, The Prairie
Tramps. Oll Coomes.

209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective; or, Dot
Leetle Game Mit Rebecca. By E. L. “htelrr.

210 Faro Frank oingh Pine; or. D: nay
Darke‘s Go-Down Pards. y Wm. B. Eym r.

21 l Crooked (‘ale the Caliban of Celestial Pity.
By Joseph E. Badger. Jr.

212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detectivu ; ('1

The League of the Secret Brotherhood. it}

Charles orris.

21 3 Fritz to the Front; or. The Ventriloquist
Scamp-H unter. By Edward L. Whet lcr.

214 Wolfgang the Robber of the Rhine; (r.
The Young Knight of the Crossicordc. By
Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

2 1 5 Coats in Bullet, the Raider King; or, Little
To not‘s Crusade. By T. C. Harbaugh.

216 8 son Bill. thean of the Reins' or. The
Red Riders of the Overland. By Col. 'Prcntiss
ngraham.

211 CI tain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand:

i y Jack from Jlmtown. By Edward L.
“'hce er.

218 Tiger Tom, the Texan Terror. By Ol‘i
Coomes.

219 Dcspn d, the Duelist' or, The Mountain
Vampires. By Philip S. arne.

220 Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Sumner;
or, The Black Sheepof the Flock. y hilip
S. Warne.

221 Sn ar-Contcd 8am or. TheBinok Gowns
of rim Gulch. By Ed. . Wheele .

222 Grit, the Bravo Sport' or, The Woman
Trailer. 81 Col. Prentiss .

223 Ozark 1r King of the Mountain; or,
Featherweighz Among the Outlaws. By m-

Wille .

224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom's Castle.
By 011 mes.

225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Dark ; or,
How the Boy Got yen. By Chas. Morris.

226 Snoozer the Boy Sh ; or. The Arab De~
tective. By Edward L. \\ eeler.

221 Dusky Darrell, Trapper or The Green
Ranger of the Yellowstone. By Edwin Emer-

sou.

228 Little Wildﬁre, the Yourg Prairie Nomad;
or. The Idyl of Echo Canyon. By 011 Ccomes.

229 Crimson Kate, the Girl Trailer; or,The
Cowboy’s Triumph. By 001. P. In am.

230 The Yankee R ah; or, The Fate of the
Black Shereet. By . Dunning Clark.

231 Plucky Phil. of the Mountain Trail; or.
Rosa, the Red Jezebel. By T. C. Harhaugh.

23‘ Gold-Dust Dick. B Ed. L. Wheeler.

233 Joe Buck oi‘Ange s and His 30 Papa
Paul Powderhorn; or, The Three Wild n of
Eagle Bar. By Albert W. Aiken.

234 old Bockgh “ Boyecs ” or, Benito.
the Young or .-Bneaker. y Maj. Sam 8.
Hail. “Buckskin Sam.

235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy; or.
Turning the Tables. By Charles Morris.

286 Apollo Bill, the'l‘raii Tornado; or Rowdy

Kale from Right Bower. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
,4 New [me Entry Tuesday.

The Half-Dime Library is for sale b ~ all
newsdealers. live cents per copy. or sent by ma on
receipt of six cents .

BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS.
as William Street. New York.

.1

 
l, Wild Men of Buzzard Bar.
Wll

 
—-—‘ BEADLE’S

 
HALF-DIME

 
WY. ‘_-—_

 
237 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain; or, The
Mysterious Ranchero. By Col. ’. lngraham.

2 38 The Parson Detective; or. Little Shocky.
the Ranger of Raven Roost. By 011 Coomes.

£239 The (sold-seeker Guide ° or, The Lost
Mountain. By Captain Mayne Reid.

11-10 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator; or, The
Locked Valli-y. By Edward L. Wheeler.

1 241 Bill Brawn, and His Bear l‘ards; or, The

Roughs of the Rockies. By T. C. Harbaugh.

24 .‘ The TWo ‘ Bloods 9; or. Shenandoah Bill
and His Gang. By Charles Morris.

2-13 The Disguised Guide; or. Wild Raven.
the Ranger of the North. By Oil Coomes.

24 1 Sierra Sam, the Frontier Ferret; or, A
Sister‘s Dcvotion. By Edward L. Wheeler.

24' Merle the Nliddy; or. The Heir of an
Ocean rcelnnce. By (tnl. Prentiss Ingraham.

246 Giant George; or. The Ang‘l ot' the Range.
By Major Sam 8. Ii:tll—“ Buckskin Sam.

247 Old Grizzly and His Pets; or. The
Wild Huntress ot' the Hills. By Capt. “ Bruin ”
Adams.

248 Sierra Sam‘s Secret; or. The Bloody
Footprints. By Edward L. Wheeler.

2-19 Milo Rolncr the Animal King; or. The
Round the. Work Wand-rem By Capt. Fred.
\\'hittaker.

250 The Mldshiplnan Mntlneer; or.
Brandt. the iuccuneer. By Col. P. Ingmhmn.

25 1 Light-House Ligc; or. Osceola. the Fin--
brand of the Everglades. By Captain J. F. C.

Adams.
252 Dirk Dnshaway‘ or. A Dakota. Boy in
Chicago. By Chane" ,Morris.
253 igleaxra Suﬁngd Par}! ;“or. The Angel of
i’ ista. y . ward .. 'ice er.
254 g; to llgllgglooltgg 1311', The Panther of the
ains. y . wart . “ is.
255 Ca tain Apollo, the King-Pin of Bowie;
gr, {its}: 0' Lghtning‘s Feuti. By T. C. Har-
aug .
256 Young Kcntuck; or, The Red Lassa. By
Ca taln Mark Wilton.
257 g e LtﬁstCIIIEnteIrsF; grille Underground
am . apaln . . ams.
258 glﬁlpraBgigl’ﬂdiewfﬁ or. Tm Stolen
r e. .v ‘war . user.
259 gliilelﬂoldgnRﬂar toobn :kor, Lost Among
e ‘ Hes. v error or no ’.
260 Dare-Devil Dan tho-Youn Prairie Ran-
ger; or. Old Rosebu ’8 Boy B gude. By 011
comes.
261 gnaw"; FIeaAriEaught, the New York Boy.
eoxgu. . en.
262 ’lyhe‘ Youn Sleuths; or, Rollicklng
Mike’s Hot Trn . B Charles Morris.
263 Deadwood Dir 9s Divide; or. The
2.“ Spirit oflSivamt Lake.F By‘llild. L. Wheelﬁir. 1
‘ ' ‘ e on n" on tel" 01 ere
iﬂonter‘): Treasure Island. By Colonel Prentiss
n ra m. -
265 g‘ﬁel'l‘lwerél‘anilc? 3r.""7}1ettl’.iaguc of the
un e. y lapta n re . l n ‘i,‘l‘.
266 5:1 Lbsarlr, iiiieLGlggeigﬂla gay Crockett's
ooe ra. ’y us n‘. . arren.‘
267 The Buckskin Detective; or. Claude
greicyh King (ill American RoadAgents. By
. . ar 11;: .
268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail; or.
From ocean to Ocean. liy Ed. L. thL-le ‘.
“9 3"” Pl? £i‘i»i’.i...2§m‘é$;ii’~ “‘° 0°“
emne . . .' am.
270 Blizzard Ben the Arizona Cyclone- .
The Riot at Keno Camp. By Capt. M. Wilton.
271 'lf‘itl‘? gang: Hgnﬁer; 0{,ST%?I‘Bteam Man
0 eraes. ynwart 
272 Mink-kin Mike, the lfoy Sharpshooter:
or. Columbia Jim on the War-path. By Oll

Coomes.

273 Jumbo Joe, the Bo Patrol; or. The Rival
Heirs. gyEdwardL healer.

274 Jolly im, the Detective A prentlce: or,
Harry Keen‘s Bl “ Lay." By (. lrs Morris.

27 5 Arizona J ac ; or. Giant George‘s Tender-
!oot Pard. By Buckskin Sam.

276 Merle Monte’s Cruiseﬁ'or. The Chase of
“The Gold Ship.“ By Col. cntiss lngraham.

277 enver Doll, the Detective Queen; or

ankee Eisier‘s Big Surround. By Edw

L. Wheeler.

378 The Three Trappers or, The Mountain
Monster. By Ms 0r L. W. arson.

279 old Winch. t eRiﬂe Kin ' or, The Buck-
skin Desperadoes. By T. C. rba

.-
us

r u h.

280 Merle Nlonte’s Fate; or. Pear, The Pi-
rate's Pride. B Col. Prentiss Ingmham.
281 Denver Doi 's Victory or. Skull and

Cross-bones. B‘y, Edwaid L. heeler.
282 The Typo etertiv‘ev; or. Weasel. the
BoyTramg. By Edward liett.
283 Indian oe; or.The White Spirit of the
Hills. By M or Lewis W. Carson.
284 The Sea arauder' or. Merle Monte's
' Pledge. By Col. Prentiss ingraham.
285 Denver Doll’s Decoy; or, Little Bill‘s
Bonanza. Edward L. Wheeler.
28!! Josh The Boy Tendertoot; or. The
By Captain Mark

ton.
287 B1118 Blue-E es. the Bo Rover of the
Rio rsnde; or, error Toms Thorny Trail.
Col. Prentiss Inn-sham.

he Scalp King; or. The Human Thun-

derbolt. By Captain J. F. 0. Adams.
Jim’s Jon; or. The Young Detec-

tive's riumph. ByCharles Morris.

.290 Lit-lo F xtire the Bo S g or Old
Caleb Arbu'éne. Mountain M. nyon
Wm.

 
291 Turk, the Bo Ferret. By E. L. Wheeler.
292 Sancho Pc ro, the Bo Bandit; or. The
{igbhttin Pards of Sierra at. By Major E.
. ‘. rain.

293 Red Claw, the One<Eyed Trammr; or, The ‘

Maid of the mill. By Captain Comstock.

294 Dynamite Don ' or, The Bowie Blade of
(lochetopa. By T.  Harbuu h.

295 Fearless Phil' or, The ing of Quartz-
ville. By Edward Willett.

296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or.
Queen’s Big Campaign. By E. L. Wheeler.

297 The Tarantula 01' Tons; or, (liant
George‘s Revenge. By Buckskin Sam.

298 The \Vater-llound; or,
’l‘horoughbltrd. By

299 A Nu. l, the Dashing 'l‘oll-Taker' or, The
Schoolmarm o‘ Sassafras. By E. L. Wheeler.

300 The Sky Don-on; or, ltainbolt. the Ran-
ger. By 01] Comm 5.

301 llcadvlllc Nll'k, the Boy Sport; or. The
Mad Miner's Vengeance. By Major E. L. St.
Vrnin.

302 The Mountain Detective; or The Bul-
ly of TH gcr Bar. By T C. Harnnugh.

303 ’lea ane, the Girl Miner; or, The Iron-
Norved Sport. By Edward L. Wheeler.

30‘! The Dead Shot Dandy; or. Benito, the
Boy Bugler. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

303 Daslmwny 01‘ Dakota; or, A Western
Lad in tho Quaker City. By Chas. Morris.

306 Neck-Tie Ned the ﬁat-Thrower; 01‘,Tll('
Dug.0ut Pards. By Maj. Henry B. Stoddard.

307 The Strantre Purd; or, Little Ben‘s
Death Hunt. y Buckskin Sam.

308 Keno Kit, the Boy Bugler's Pard; or Dead
Shot Dandy’s Double. By 001. P. lngra am.

309 Deadwood Dick’s Bis: Deal; or. The

Charles Morris.

Gold Brick of Oregon. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

310 The Barruncn \Voll'; or. The Beautiful
Decoy. By Joe xph E. Badger. Jr.

311 The Roving Sport or. The Pride of
Chuckaiuck Camp. By dwurd Wiliett.
312 Iledtop Rube, the Vi lanfe Prince; or.
The Black Regulators of rizona. By Major

E L. St. Vrain.

313 (limarron Jack, the King Pin oi’ Ride-
IShots; or, The Phantom Tracker. By Frcdk.
)ewey.

314 The Mysterious Marauder or. The
Boy Bugler‘s Lon Trail. By Col. P. n sham.

315 Ned the (fab n Boy‘ or, The itch of
the Haunted Fort. By Jae Farragut.

316 Old Eclipse, Trum Card of Arizona; or.
Little Snap Shot's orse Hunt. By T. C.
Harbaugh.

31 7 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Lead~
ville. B Lieut. Alfred Theme.

318 Ker- hoop, Ker-Whool or, The Tar-
antula of Taos on the War-Path. By Buck-
skin Sam.

3 19 The Black Rider ; or, The Horse-Thieves‘
League. By Jos. E Badger. Jr.

320 The Sea. Sorceress; or Lieutenant Ned.
the Boy Skip r. B Jack Farragut.

321 Deadwoo Dir ’s Dozen; or, The
Fakir of Phantom Flats. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

322 Ncmo, the Detrctive; or, Kit Kenyon‘s
Vendetta. By Edward W'l ett.

323 Arkansaw Jack oft eMan-Hunters; or,
The Scou e of the Mines. By Han Hazard.

324 Ralph cady the Hotel Boy etcctivc;
%.!Tﬂracking the i‘oxes to Earth. By Charles

0 s.

325 Keller, ﬂicke G: 00., the Sleuths of
P..i|ade bin; or. tan’s Social. ByEdward
L. Whe-e er.

326 The Ten Pords; or, The Terror of Take-
Notice. By T. C.Harbau h.

327 Creepin Cat, the 0 do; or. The Red and
White Pa s. B\' Buckskin Bum.

328 The Sky Detectivo' or. A Boy’s Fight
for Life and Honor. By Major Mickey Free.
329 {cg-skin Tolm; or, The Demon’s Trail.

y a Hazarc.

330 llittlﬁnlck-Shot, the Scarlet Scout; or
The D Face of Daggersville. By Edwa
L. Wheeler.

331 Black Nick, the Demon Rider; or, The
Mountain Queen's Warning. By Captain F.
Whittaker.

332 Frio Fred; or. The Tonkaway’s Trust.
B Buckskin 8am.

333 rim-tone Bob, and His Ll htning Horse

Quartette: or, his or Bragsz’s ide to Tomb-

stone. By M or . L. St. Vmin.

334 Kan aroo it; or. The Mysterious Miner.

y E ward L. Wheeler.
335 Old Double Fist; or. The Strange Guide.
Josglh E. Badger. Jr.

336 ix enson, the Brazos Bombshell; or.
The Queen of the Lasso. By T. C. Has-bench.

337 Ben Bird the Cave King; or, Big Pete's
800%. B  J. Hamilton.

338 A oug Boy; or, The Dwarf‘s Revenge.
I]? Philip S. Warns.

339 angaroo Klt’s Racket {van The Pride

. of Played-Out. By Edward L. eeier.

340 Clip, the Contortionist' or. The Vigilantes of
Mon ans. By Edward lllett.

341 TongI Thorn, the Vagabond Detective; or.
Runn :3 Down a Rogue. By Charles Morris.

342 The Mountain Devil; or. YellowJack, the
Outlaw Captain. By Harry Huard.

343 Manhattan Mike the Bowery Blood; or
“ wings-Up" s Dldculthso. ByEdwar

or.

344 The Eighth- Trlo; or, Rattlesnake. the
Tonkaway. By uckskin Sam. =

l
t
l

i
i

The Young t

 
345 Pitiless Mat, the White Sla er; or. Red
Thunderbolt‘s Secret. By T. C. arbaugh.

346 Rapier Raphael ' or. The Swordsmen of
Zacatccas. By Maj. .B. Stoddard, Ex-Scout.

347 Dendn'ood Dick’s Dllcats' or. Rainy
Days in the Diggings. By Edward L. Wheeler.

‘ 348 Flrchcels; or, Old Skinﬂint. the Death-

Shadow. By Roger Starbuck.

The Road ‘ 349 \Vild “oil, the Waco; or. Big-Foot Wal-

lace to the Front. By Buckskin Sam.

‘ 350 Red Ralph, tin» River Rover; or, The

Brother‘s Revenge. By Ned Buntline.

351 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or The
Terrible Vendetta. By Edward L. \\ hee er.

352 Tombstone Tom, the Arizona Boy of
“Sand ”: or The Hyena from Hard Luck.
By Major E. . St. Vrain.

353 The Reporter-Detective; or, Fred F'ly—
c-r's Blizzard. By Charles Morris.

354 Big Horn lkc, the Hill Tramp; or. The
Odd Pards. By Roger Stat-buck.

355 The King- or the \Voods; or, Dahli'l
Boone‘s Lust Trail. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

356 (‘ool Sam and Pard' or. The Terrible
Six From Texas. By T. C. arbaugh.

357 The Ranch Raiders; or. The Siege of
Fort Purgatory. By Buckskin Sam.

358 First-mass Fred the Gent from Gophvr;
or. The Deadly Drop Iron: Brimstone Bar. By
Edward L. Wheeler.

359 Dnrango Dave, the Young (‘hampinn
Wrestler; or. The Colorado Song Queen. By
Major E. L. St. Vrain.

360 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery: or. The
Cross of the Golden Keys. By J. C. Cowdrick.

361 The Phantom Light-House- or.
“Black Rock," the Smuggler Spy. By ‘Rogt-r
Starbuck.

362 Dcadtvood Dick’s Claim ; or. The Fairy
Face of Faro Flats. By Edward L. \\ heelcr.

363 Little Tornado; or, The Outcasts of the
Glen. By Philip S. Warne.

364 Sun -Shot, the Boy Ranger; or The Snake
and t e Dove. By Buckskin Sam.

365 Baltimore Ben, the Bootblack Detective;
or. The Fortunes of an Orphan Girl. By An-
thony P. Morris.

366 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective: or, Th.-
Taos Tiger. By T. C. Harbnugh.

367 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of tin-
Timts. By Charles Morris.

368 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherer; or Thu
Lottery of Life. By Edward L. Wheeler.

369 Shasta, the Gold King; or, For Seven Year:
Dead. By J. C. (‘owdricla

370 Breaker Ben, the Reef-Runner; or. T1.»
Telltale Hand. By Roger Starbuck. .

371 Kingboit Chris, the Young Hard-Shell
Detective; or. The Solid Man From Slow-
Coach. By Maj. E. L. St. Vrain.

372 Yreka Jim’s Prize; or. The Wolves of
Wake-Up. By E. L. Wheeler.

373 Little Jingo; or. The Queer Pard. l-‘y
Philip S. Warne.

374 Gold Dust Tom; or, Ambergris Ben‘s
Double Match. By George Henry Morse.

375 Chiota, the Creek; or. The Three Thun-
derbolts. By Buckskin Sam.

376 California Joe’s First Trail. A Story
of the Di'Sil'Cying Angels. By Col. Thomas
Iloyei‘ Mt 111401):

377 Bonodei .he liov Rover' or, The Flagless
Schooner. ’By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

378 Nabob Ned; or. The Secret of Slab City-
By Edward L. Wheeler.

379 Larry, the Leveier or. The Bloods of the
Boulevard. By Charles orris.

380 Avalanche Alf. the Foothills Guide- or.
The Snow-Prisoners of Colorado. By Major
E. L. St. Vrain.

381 Bandvrn Bill; or. FrioFrank totbe Front.
By Buckskin Sam.

382 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or. A Villain's
Vengeance. By Edward L. Wheeler.

383 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for
Pirates' island. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

384 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero; or.
The Border Schoolmaster. By Oil Coomes.

385 Yreka Jim’s Joker or, The Rivals ol‘
Red Nose. By E. L. Whe er.

386 (‘nptain (‘utioss the Ocean 8 ider: or.
The Buccaneer's Girl  By T. C. arbaugh.

387 Warpath Will, the Boy Phantom; or. The
Traitor Guide. By Col. Prentiss Ingrsham.

388 Little Oh-my; or. Caught in His Own
Trap. By Philip S. Warns.

, A New Issue Every Tuesday.

The Hair-Dime Library is for sale by all
newsdealers. live cents per copy, or sent by mail on
receipt of six cents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Possum.
98 William Street. New York.

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1 113‘ gardscaowd; or, Gentleman Sam’s Sister.
hili . ame. N

’lyhe Dare-Devil? lor, Ellie Winged ll itch of

the Sea. B Co . n r am.

Kit Carugn, Jr. t 6 Crack Shot of the

West. Bv Buckskin dam. _

The Kid nap )cr ' or, The Great Shanghai of

the Northwest. lBy P’hihp s. Warne.

The Fire-Fiends; or, Hercules, the Hunch-

back. B A. P. Morris. .

\Vildcayt Bob, the Boss Bruiser. By Ed-

ward L. Wheeler.

Death-Notch, the Destroyer. By Oli Coomes.

The Headless llorncuian. By Captain

Mayne Reid.

Handy Andy. BK Samuel Lover. _

Vidocq, the renu Police Spy. Written by

Himself. _

Midshipman Easy. b‘y Captain Marryat.

The Death-Shot; or, Tracked To Death.

By Captain Mayne Reid.

Pathaway ' or, Nick Whittles. the old Trap-

pcr of the Nor west. B Dr. J. H. Robinson.

14 Tbaycndancgca, t eScourgc ; or The War-
Eagle of the Mohawks. By Ned Buntlme.

15 The Tiger-«layer; or, Eagle-Head to the
Rescue. By Gustave Almard.

16 The \Vhitc \Vizard ' or,Th_e GreatProphet
of the Seminoles. B Ned Buntline.

17 Nightshade. the bber Prince of Hounslow
Heath. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

1 S The Sea Bandit; or, The Queen of the Isle.
By Ned Buntline.

l9 ﬂed Cedar, the Prairie Outlaw. By Gustavo
Aimard. _

20 The Bandit at Bay; or, The Pirates of the
Prairies. By Gustave Aimard.

21 The Trap cr’s Daughter; or, The Out-
law's Fate. v Gustave Aimard.

wwacwmqamoww

HHHH

22 \Vhitelatv; (7r, Nattio of the Lake Shore. ‘

By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

23 The Bed \Varrior; or, Stella Delorme‘s
Comanche Lover. By Ned Lurtline.

24 Prairi- Flower. By G. Almard.

25 The Gold Guide; or, Steel Arm. the Regu-

' lator. By Francis Johnson.

26 The Death-Track ' or. The Outlaws of the
Mountain. By Francis Johnson.

27 The Spotter Dctcctivc; or. The Girls of i

N -w York. By Albert W. Aiken.

2S ’l‘lircc-Fingcrcd Jack, the Road-Agent of
the Rockies: or. The Boy Miner of Hard Luck.
B Jrseph E. Badger. Jr. .

‘39 Tiger Dick, t.1c Faro King; or, The Cashier's
Crime. By Philip S. Warne.

30 Gas ci Georgc; or, Fiery Fred. the Outlaw.

By oseph E. Badger, Jr.

31 Tue New York sharp; or, The Flash of
Lightning. By Albert W. Aiken.

32 B’ho s of Yale ' or. The Scrapes of a Hand
Set of llefians. By John D. Vose.

33 Overlan Kit; or, The Idyl of White Pine.
B Albert W. Aiken.

34 liocky Mountain Bob the California
Outlaw; or. The Vigilantes of Humbug Bar. By
Albert W. Aiken.

35 Kentuck. the Sport; or. Dick Talbot at
the Mines. B Albert W. Aiken.

36 Injun Dic or, The Death Shot of Shasta.
By Albert W. A ken.

37 lel, the Hunchback; or. The Sword-
maker of t c Santee. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

38 Velvet Hand' or,Tie Iron Grip of Injun
Dick. By Albert ’W. Aiken.

39 The Russian S y; or. The Brothch of the
Starry Cross. By aptain Fred. Whittaker.

40 The Long Haired “ Pardu ;” or, The
Tartars of the Plains. B Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

41 Gold Dan ; or TheW ite Savage of theGreat
Salt Lake. By Albert W. Aiken.

42 The California Detective‘ or, The Witches
of New York. By Albert W. Al en.

43 Dakota Dan the Recklcss Ranger; or, The
Bee-Hunters’ Excursion. B 011 Coomes,

44 Old Dan Rackback.t a Great Extarmiua.
tor; or. The Triangle’s Last Trail 011 Coomes.

45 Old Bull’s E e the Lightning Shot of the
Plains. B Jos. l. Badger, Jr:

46 Bowie- nife Ben tht-Littlc Hunter of the
Nor'-Wcst; or. The Exl es of the Valley of Shad-
ows. By O‘l Coomcs.

47 Paciilc Pctc, thv' Prince ofthe Revolver. By
Jose h E. Badger. Jr. 0

48 Ida o'l'om,the Youn Outlaw of Silverland;
or,theHuntersofthe\\‘il West. ByOll mes.

49 The Wolf Demon ‘ or. The Queen of the
Kanawha. B Albert . Aiken.

50 Jack Bab it, the Prairie Sport: or. The
Wolf Children of the Llano Estacado. By Jon.

. er, r.
51 Red icon, the Boy Road-Agent. By 011

comes.

52 Death Trailer. the Chief of Scouts; or. Life
and Love in a Frontier Fort. By Buffalo Bill.

58 Silver Sam° or, The Mystery of Deadwood

Eyegbflled Tbs i s n

s I. an or. o rt ve

of the oot-B." . By Plilliv S. Waprge. po

55 The Seal 1. " ters. By Capt. yneReid.

56 line Ind an “4:119 a; orI The Madman
ofthePlains. B; A. \  iben.

57 The Silent Hunter or. The Scowl Hall
Mystery. By Percy B. St. chn.

58 S Iver Knife; or. Wickliﬂe. The Rocky
Mountain Ranger. By Dr. J. H. Robinson

59 The Man From Texas; or, The Outlaws
of Arkansas. By A. W. Aiken.

60 Wide Awake the Robber King; or, The
Idiot of the Black Hills. By Frank Dnmont.

 
61 Ca tain Seawaif, the Privateer. By Ned
Bun line.

62 Loyal Heart; or, The Trappers of Arkansas.

By Gustave Aimard.

63 The Winged whale; or, Red Rupert of
the Gulf. By A. W. Aiken.

64 Double-sight, the Death Shot' or, The Out-
law of the Chaparral. By Jos. E. adger. Jr.

65 The Bed Rajah ' or, The Scourge of the
Indies. By Capt. F. nttaker.

66 The S ecter Barquc. By Mayne Reid.

67 The Boy Jockey ' or, Honcsty versus
Crookedness. By J 0s.  Badger, Jr.

68 The Fighting Trappcr' or, Kit Carson i 7
'  l 126 Tile Dclnon Duclist; or. The League or
By Capt. FJVhittaker. ;

to the Rescue. By Captain J . C. Adams.

69 The Irish Captain.

70 Hydrabad, tnc Strangler; m, Alethc, the
Chilzi of the Card. By Dr. J H. Robinson.

71 Ca tnin Cool-Blade; or. The Man-Shark
of t e Mississippi. By J 0s. E. Badger, J r.

72 The Pllantoni llnnd; or, The Heiress of
Fifth Avenue. By A. W. Aiken.

73 The Knights of the licd Cross; or, The
Magician of Granada. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

74 The Captain oi‘tlic Riﬂes; or, The Queen
of the Lakes. By Capt. Mayne Reid. _

75 Gentleman Gco rgc ° or, Parlor. Prison.
Stage and Street. By A.  Aiken. _

76 The Queen’s Musketeers ; or. Thisbe. the
Princess Palmist. By George Albany. _

77 The Fresh of Frisco ' or. The Ht’ll‘CSS of
ltuenaventura. By Albert  Aiken.

78 The Mysterious Spy; or, Golden Fvathcr,
the Buccaneer's Daughter. By A. M. Gramgcr.

79 J ﬁe Phenix, the Police 8' y. By Albert W.
Ai en.

80 A Man of Nerve; or. Caliban, the Dwavf.
Bv Pliili S. Wnruc. .

81 The 1 uman Tiger; or. A Heart of Fire.
By Albert W. Aiken.

82 Iron \Vrist. the Swordmaster. By Colonel
Thomas How)!“ Monstery.

83 hold Bullet 8 ion ° or, The Knights of the
Ovariand. By B 0.10 Bill.

84 Hunted Down; or, The League of Three.
B Albert W. Aiken.

85 or. Zuleikah. the

he Cretan Rover;
Beautiful. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

86 The Big Hunter; or. The uecn of the
Woods. By the author of “ The Si ent Hunter."

87 The Scarlet Captain; or, The Prisoner of
the Tower. By Col. Dcllc Sara.

88 Big George, the Giant cf the Gulch: or. The
Five Outlaw Brothers. By Josegh E. Badr'cr. Jr.

89 The Pirate Princc; or, rctti' Nelly, the
neon of the 1519. By Col. Prentiss ngraham.

90 ild Will, the Mad Ranchero; or, The Ter-
rible Texans. By Buckskin Sam.

91 The Winning Oar; or, The Inkeeper’s
Daughter. By Albert W. Aiken.

92 Bull‘an Bill, the Buckskin King; or. The
Amazon of the West. By Ma . Dangerﬁeld Burr.

93 Ca tuln Dick Talbot. ' g of the Road;
or, he Black-Hoods of Shasta. By A. W. Aiken.

94 Freelance, the Buccaneer; or. The Wall of
the Wave. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

95 Azhort, the Axman; or, The Secrets of the
Ducal Palace. By Anthony P. Morris.

96 Double-Death ; or. The Spy Queen of Wyo-
ming. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

97 Bronze Jack, the California Thoroughbred;
or.'1‘h» Lost City of the Basaltic Buttes. By
Albert W. Aiken.

98 The Rock Rider; or, The Spirit of the
Sierra. By Ca t. Frederick Whittaker.

99 The Giant lileman; or, Wild Lifein the
Lumber Regions. By 011 Coomes.

100 The French Spy; or, The Bride of Paris.

By Anthony P. Morris.

101 The Man From New York; or, TheRo-
mance of a Rich Young Woman. By Aiken.

102 The Masked Band; or. The Man With-
out a Name. By George L. Aiken.

103 Merle, the Mutinccr; or. The Brand of
the Red Anchor. B Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

104 Montezuma, t e Mercilesw or, The
Eagle and the Serpent. By CoL P. ngraham.

1 05 Dan Brourn oi Denver the Rocky Moun-
tain Detective. ByJoseph .Bad er. Jr.

100 Shamus O’Brien, the Pould y of Glin-

al; or. Irish Hearts and Irish Homes. By
01. Delle Sara.

107 Richard Talbot of Cinnabar; or.The
Brothers of the Red Hand. By A. W. Aiken.

1 08 The Duke ofDiamonds; or. The Flower
of Calcutta. By Ca tain Frederick Whittaker.

109 Cu tain Kyd, t e King of the Black Flag;
or, he Witch of Death Castle. By Col. Pren-
tiss Ingraham. -

110 The Silent Riﬂeman. By Henry W.

Herbert.

111 The Suing ler Ca tain; or. The Skip-

er’s Crime. y Ned untiine.

1 12 oo Phenix Private Detective' or. The

League of the 8 eleton Ke . B A. W. Aiken.

113 The Sea Slip or" or. he mateur Free-
booters. By Pro . J.  am.

114 The Gentleman From Pike or. The
Ghost of the Canyon. By Phili S. me.

115 The Severed [bad he Secret of
Castle Coucy. By Capt. . Whittaker.

116 Black Plume, the Devil of the Sea; or,
The Sorceress of Hell Gate. By 001. Prentiss
Ingraham.

1 1 7 Dashing Dandy, the Ho rat the Hills-
or. The Pony Prince‘s 8mm By 
Dangerﬁeld Burr.

118 The Burglar Ca min; or The Fallen
Star. By me.J.H. '

01‘,

 
119 Alabama Joe' or. The Yazoo Man-Hun-
ters. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

120 The Texan Spy; or, The Prairie Guide.
By Newton M. Curtis.

1 21 The Sea 1 tadet; or. The Rover of the Rigo-
latts. By Col. Prcntiss Incraham.

l 22 Saul Sabberoay, the idiot Spy: or, Lnliona.
the Seminole. By bed Buntline.

123 Alapalia, tho Sq ua“ : or. The Renegades
of the Border. By Francis Johnson.

124 Asson’anin. III» A \‘cngcr; or. The
Doom of the Destroyers. By Francis Johnson.

125 The Blacknnilh Outlau': or. Merry
England. By Harrison Ainsworth'.

Stccl. By Col. ’l‘hvmas I-loycr Monstery.

127 30] Scott, the Mask (1 Miner; or, Dan
Brown‘s Double. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

128 The (‘hcvalicr (‘oruair; or, The Heri
tagc of Hatred. By the author of “ Merle 11.0
Mutinccr. "

129 Mississi pi Mose ' or. A Strong Man's
Sacriﬁce. [By Edward Willett.

1 30 Captain Volcano; or, The Man ofthe Red
Rcvolvers. By A. W. Aiken.

1 31 Buckskin Sam, the Texas Trailer; or, The
Pandits of the Bravo. By Col. P. Ingraham.

132 Ncnio. King of tlic Tranips' or, The

Roman Girl's Vengeance. By Capt. crick

Whitta cr.

Body the Rovcr the Ribbonman of Ire-

land. By William Carleton.

1 34 Darkie Dan, the Colored Dt-tcctive; or, The

Mississippi Mystcry. By Col. P. lngraham.

135 The Bush Ranger" or, The Half-Breed
Brigade. By Francis Jo nson.

136 The Outlaw-Huntcr; or, Red John, the
Bush Ranger. By Francis Johnson.

137 Long Beard, the Giant Say; or. Hapglvl

Harry, the Wild Boy of the oods. By

Coomes.

138 The Border Bandits' or, The Horse-
’l‘hief’s Trail. By Francis J0 nson.

1 39 Fire-Eye, the Sea Ema; or. The Bride of
a Buccaneer. By Col. ntiss Ingrgham.

1 40 The Three Spaniards. By . Walker.

1 -l l Equinox Tom, the Bully of Red Rock; or.

Dan Brown’s Masterstroke. By Joseph. 11‘.

Badger. Jr.

l‘aptain Crimson, the Man of the Iron

Face; or, The Nemesis of the Plains. By Maj.

Dangerﬁeld Burr.

143 The Czar’s S y; or, The Nihilist League.

By Col. T. H. onsicry.

Ill The Hunchback of Notre-Dame.
By Victor Hugo.

145 Pistol Pards‘ or, Soft Hand, the Silent
S on. from Cinna ar. By Wm. B. Eyster.

146 The Doctor Detective; or, The Mystery
of the Golden Cofﬁn. By George Lemue .

147 Gold 8 ur the Gentleman from Texas' or
The 011' d of .the Regiment. By Col. n-

tiss ham.
148 One-armed Alf the Giant Hunter of the
Great Lakes. oil Coomes.
149 The Border ides. By Gustave Aimard.
1 50 El Rubio Bravo, King of the Swordsman;
or. The Terrible Brothers of Tabasco. By
Col. Thomas HoyerMonsterv.
1 51 The Freebooters. By Gustave Aimard.
152 (‘aptain lro nnerve, the (‘ounterfeiter
Chief; or. The Gipsy Queen’s Legacy. By
Marmaduke Dev.
1 53 ’I he \Vhite Scalpcr. By Gustave Aimard.
154 Joaquin, the Saddle King. By Joseph E.
Badger, Jr.
155 The Corsair ucen; or. The Gipsies of
the Sea. By Col. miss Ingraham.
1 56 Velvet Face, the Border bravo; or, Muriel,
the Danitc‘s Bride. By Dangerﬁeld Burr.
157 Mourad, the Mameluke; or. The Three
Swordmasters. By 001 Thomas H. Monstery.
158 The Doomed Dozen; or. Dolores. the
Danite‘s Daughter. By Dr. Frank Powell.
159 Red Rudiger, the Archer or. The Lady
Bertha’s Treachery. By Capt. F. Whittaker.
160 Soft Hand, Sharp' or. The Man With the
Sand. By Wm. R. Ey. er.
161 The Wolves of New York or, Joo
thix‘s Grcat Man Hunt. By A. . Aiken.
162 The Mad Marincr' or. Dishonored and
Disowned. By Col. Prenliss lngrabam.
163 Ben Brion, the Trap er Ca tain: or, Red-
path. the Avenger. By Br. J.  Ro n.
1 64 The King’s Fool; or. The Knights of the
' Claspell Hands and Red Branch. By C. D.Olark.
160 Joaquin, the Terrible. By J. E. Bad
1 66 Owlet, the Robber Prince; or. The U
Highwa man. By S ptimus R. Urban.
167 The an ofSteel ' or, The Masked Knight
of the White Plume. b£a P. Morris.
168 Wild Bill, the Pistol cad Shot; or, Dagger
Don‘s Double. By Col. Prentiss Inﬁraham.
orty Duels.

133

112

r, Jr.
wn

169 C0 oral Cannon.tbeMan of
By 1. Thomas Hoyer Monstery.

170 Sweet William, the per Detective:
or, The Chief of the Crimson 11. By Jos. E.

Badger. Jr.
171 Tiger Dick, the Man of the Iron Heart; or.
The Dumb Bandit. By Philip S. Warns.
172 The Black Pirate; or. The Mystery of
the Golden Fetters. By Col. P. Inn-shun.
178 California John, the Paciﬁc Thorough
bred. By Albert W. Aiken.
A new Issue every Wednesday.
I‘Boadlo’c teDllnomIJbrary is for; .19 all
MB. 11 0011 Per 00 or son on.
meal of twelve cents oschpyBEADLB 
maﬁa-i 98 William New York.

 
.,
t v.“
.

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-————___-_.

1 75 Wild Bill’s Trump Card' or. The Indian
Heiress. By Major Dangerﬁeld Burr.
l 76 Lady Jaguar, the Robber Queen. By Cap
177 Don Diablo, the Planter-Ceisair; or, The
Rivals of the Sea. B Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
Dark Dunhwoo . the Desperate; or, The
1 79 Conrad. the (:onvict; or, Was Ho Guilty?
By Prol. Stewart Gildersleeve, LL. D.
180 01d ’49; or. The Amazon of Arizona. By
J 03. E. Badger, Jr.
181 The Scarlet Schooner; or. The Nemesis
of the Sea. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
Bv Wm B.
183 Gilbert, the Guide; or. Lost in the Wi'-
l 84 demess. By (3. Dunning Clark.
Castle Curse. B Co . Prentiss Ingraham.
185 The Man Spi er' or, The Bt-autit ul Sphinx.
By Anthony P. Morris.
186 The Black Bravo; or. The Tonkaway‘s
Trium h. B Buckskin Sam.
1 87 The cat 1’s Head Culrassiers; or,
188 The Phantom Mazeppu; or. The Hyena
of the Cha arrals. By Maj. Dangerﬁeld Burr.
Wild Bi I’s Gold Trail; or. The Desper-
190 The Three Guardsmen. By Alexandre
Dumas.
191 The Terrible Tonkatvay ; or. Old Rocky
and His l’ards. By Buckskin Sam.
192 The Lightning S art or, The Bad Men
at Slaughter Bar. By in. Eyster.
Old Guard. By Capt. F erick Whittaker.
194 Don Sombrero, the California Road Gent;
or. The Three Men of Mount Tabor. By Capt.
Mark Wilton.
195 The Lone Star Gambler; or, The Maid
of the Magnolias. Bv Buckskin Sam.
The Lost Heir oi el. By Albert W. Aiken.
197 Revolver Bob, the Red-Handed; or, The
B lie of Nugget Camp. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.
mer ol‘ the Sea. By‘ Col Prentiss Ingraham.
199 Diamond Die , the Dandy from Denver.
Buckskin Sam.
Southern Mexico. By Ca. t. Mayne Reid.
201 The Pirate ol'the P acorn; or. Joaquin‘s
Death Hunt. By Joseph E. or, Jr.
Robbers at Black Bend. By Captain
Mark Wilton.
203 The Double Detective; or. The Midnight
allaco, the Kin ol the Lariat;
or ild Wolf. the Waco. By uckskin Sam.
205 The Gambler Pirate or. Bessie. the
Lady of the Lagoon. By Co P.
Last Legacy. By Capt. Fred. hittaker.
207 Did Hard Head; or. Whirlwind and His
Milk-white Mare. By Philip S W
By Capt. Mayne Reid.
209 Buck Farley the Bonanza Prince' or. The
Romance 0: Death Gulch. By Edward Willett.
or, The Red Sea Trail. By Col. P. Ingrahsm.
21 1 Colonel Plungcr' or. The Unknown Sport.
'IISthapt Frederick w’hittaker.
212

174 The Phantom Knights. By Capt. F.
Whittaker
tain Mark Wilton.
l 78
Child of the Sun. By Major Sam S. Hall.
1 82 Hands Up ° or, The Knights of the Canyon.
Eyst/er.
The "couu Vilil'l ire; or, The Heiress of
Brave of all Braves. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
189
ado Dozen. By Col. Prentiss I ngrahain.

193 The Man in Be ; or The Ghost of the
196 La Marmosetﬁthe Detective Queen; or,
or
198 The Skeleton Schooner; or. The Skim-

B
200 he Riﬂe Bangers; or, Adventures in
202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Gu den or. The

Masked

Myste'ry. B Albert W. Aiken
204 Bi oot

m.
206 One Eye, the Cannonoer; oerarshsl Ney’s
. arne.
208 The White Chief.
210 Buccaneer Bess, the Lioness of the Sea;
c Brazos Tigers; or the Minute—Men

of Fort Belknap. By Buckskin Sam.

213 The War Trail; or. The Hunt of the Wild
Horse. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

214 The Two Cool Sports; or. Gertie of the
Gulch. By Wm. R. Eyster.

215 Parson Jim, King of the Cowboys: or,
The Gentle Shepherd‘s Big “ Clean Ou ." By
Cs tain Frederick Whittaker.

216 T 0 Corsair Planter; . or, Driven to
Doom. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

217 The Serpent of El Paso; or, Frontier
Frank. the Scout of the Rio Grande. By Buck-

skin Sam.

218 The Wild Huntress; or. The Big Squat.
tor's Vengeance. By Ca t. Mayne Reid.

219 The Scorpion Brot ten; or, MadTom's
Mission. By Captain Mark Wilton.

220 The SBecter Yacht; or, A Brother‘s
Crime. y Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

221 Desperate Duke, the Guadalotge “Ga-

. loot' ‘ orél‘ahc Angel of the Alamo ity. By

Bu k n m.

222 Bill, the Blizzard or, Red Jack's Doubli-
Crime. By Edward Wi lett.

223 Can on Dave, the Man of the Mountain;

9 Toughs of Silver Spur. By Captain
Mark Wilton.

224 Black Board, the Buccaneer: or, The
Curse of the Coast. BxCol. P. Ingraham.

225 Book, Mountain 1; or. Nu etNell. the
Wait 0 the Range. By Buckskin

226 The Mad llusssrs; or, The 0‘s and the
Mao's. By CaggWhittskor.

227 Buckshot n, the Man-Hunter of Idaho;
or, The Cactus Crook Tragedy. By Capt.
Mark Wilton.

228 The Maroon. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

229 Cs tsin Cut-locvcior Touch-Mc-Not, the
Lid: Sport. Wm. 

980 The II p Dutchman or 1880 or,
Who was snflcrdockon. By Capt. Mgr-id
Whittaker.

 
l

 
_._....i,§_i§_ilanightslensingignition:lel,.A;l,Z§lTif

231 The Kid Glove Miner; or, The Magic
Doctor of Golden Gulch. By Ingraham.

232 Orson Oxx, the Man of Iron; or, The River
M stery. By Isaac Hawks.

23 '1‘ to Old Boy of Tombstone; or.
Wagering a Life on a Card. B J. E. Badger.

234 The Hunters’ Feast. By ayne Reid.

235 Red Lightning, the Man of Chance; or.

F lush times in Golden Gulch. By Col. Prentiss

93

lngraham.

Cilam iou Sam ; or. The Monarchs of the

Show. Col. T. H. Monstery.

Long- aired Max ; or. The Black League

of the Coast. By Ca t. M. Wilton.

Hank Hound, tie Crescent City Detec-

tive; or, The Owls of New Orleans. By An-

thony P. Morris.

The Terri ble Trio ; or, The Angel of the

Army. By Buckskin Sam.

A Cool Head; or, Orson Oxx in Peril. By

Isaac Hawks.

Spitiire Saul, King of the Hustlers; or.

ueen Dixie‘s Grand “Round-Up.” By Joe.
. Badger, Jr.

The Fog Devil; or, The Skipper of the

Flash. B Capt. Fred. \\ hittaker.

The P lgrim Sharp; or,-The Soldier‘s

Sweetheart. Bv Buffalo Bill.

Merciless Mart, the Man-Tiger of Mis-

souri‘ or, The Wait of the Flood; By Buck~

skin Sam.

Barrancu Bill, The Revolver Champion;

or, The Witch of the Weeping Willows. By

Captain Mark Wilton.

Queen Helen, the Amazon of the Over-

land; or, The Ghouls of the Gold Mines. By

Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

247 Alligator Ike ' or. The Secret of the Ever-

lads. By Capt. Bred. Whittaker.

248 ontsna Nat. the Lion of Last Chance
Camp. By Edward Willett.

249 Elephant Tom of Durango; or, Your
Gold-Dust or Your Life. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

250 The Rough Riders; or. Sharp-Eye, the
Seminole Scourge. By Buckskin Sam.

251 Tiger Dick vs. Iron Dcspsrd; or,
Every Man Has His Match. By P. S. Warne.

252 The “’11” Street Blood; or. Tick Tick.the
Te‘egrs '1 Girl. By Albert W. Aiken.

253 A Tun oe (‘ossack ' or, The Queen of the
Nihilists. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

254 Giant Jake, the Patrol of the Mountain.
B Newton M. Curtis.

255 c Pirate Prlcst; or. The Planter Gam-
bler‘s Daughter. By (701. Prentiss Ingraham.

256 Double Dan, the Dnstard: or, The Pirates
of the Pecos. By Buckskin Sam.

257 Death-Trap Digging"; or. A Hard Man
from 'Wav Back. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo; or, The
Prisoners of the Death-Vault. By Captain
Mark Wilton.

259 Cutlass and Cross or, The Ghouls of the
Sea.  Col. Prentiss ngrahani.

260 The asked Mystr‘r ; or. The Black
Crescent. By Anthony P. orris.

281 Black Sam, the PrairhI Thunderbolt: or,
The Bandit-Hunters. By ('ol. Jo Yards.

262 Flash ting Tom, the Terror of the Toughs.
By Col. Thomas Hoyt-r Monstery.

283 Iron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback De-
stroyer; or. The Black Riders‘ Terror. By
Captain Mark Wilton.

264 The Crooked Three;; or, The Black
Hearts of the Gaudalupc. y Buckskin Sam.

285 Old Double-Sword or Pilots and Pi-
rates. By Capt. Fred. W ttaker.

268 Lco mrd Luke, the King of Horse-Thieves;

or, T e Swamp Squattcr‘s Doom. By Captain

Mark Wilton.

The White Squaw. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

Magic Mike the Man of Frills: or, Bad

Ben 8 Bad Briga o. By William. R. Eyster.

289 The Ba on Bravo ; or. The Terrible Trail.

13y Bucks in Sam. .

A udros, the Free Bover; or, The Pirate‘s

Daughter. By Ned Buntlinc.

Stoncﬂst. ornuz Nugget Bend; or Old

Ketcliuui‘s Tug; of \\ ar. By Capt. Mark wi'iwn.

Seth Slocum Railroad Surveyor' or. The

Secret of Sitting him. By Capt. F. Whittaker.

236
237
238

239
240
241
242
243
24-1

267
288

270
27]
272

273 Mountain Mose the Gorge Outlaw; or,
Light Horse Leon’s w Fights for Life. By
Buckskin Sam.

274 Flush Fred the

Mississi pi Sport: or,

Tough Times in . nnessco.. BI; Ed. Willett.

The Smuggler Cutter; or, The Cavern in

the (.‘lii'l'. By J. D. Conroy.

Texas Chick, the Southwest Detective; or,

Tiger Lily. the Vulture Queen. By Captain

Mark Wilton.

The Sane Jane, Privatccr' or The

Hunting of Id Imnsldes. By Capt. ll‘rcderick

Whittaker.

BoroulcsGolds ur theMsn oftheVelvet

Hand; or, The P0 or buecn’s Drop Game.

. By Captain Howard Holmes.

279 The Gold-Drwonﬁ or. the Calitornis-

Bloodhound. By m. . Manning.

280 Black-ﬂoss Ben or, Tiger Dick‘s Lone
Hand. By Philip S. sme.

281 The Sea 0w] ; or. The Lady Captain of the
Gulf. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

275
270

277

278

 
282 The Merciless Marauders; or. (diap-
arral Carl‘s Revenge. By Buckskin Sam.
Sleek Sam, the Devil of the Mints: or, Tin-
Sous of the Fiery Cross. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.
The Three Frigates' or, 01d Ironsides‘
Revenge. By Capt. Fred. V’Vhittaircr.
Lightning Bolt the (fan on Terror; or,
The Mountain Cat‘s Grudge. y Mark Wilton.
Pistol Johnny: or. One Man in a Thou-
sand. By Josep E. Badger, Jr.
Dandy Dave and His Horse. White Stock
ing; or, Ducats or Death. By Buckskin Sam.
Electro Pete, the Man of Fire: or The
Wharf Rats of Locust Point. By A. P. orris.
Flush Fred’s Full “and ' or. Life and
Strife in Louisiana. By Edward Willett.
The Lost Corvette; or, Blakelry’s Last
Cruise. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
Horseshoe ﬂank, the Man of Big Luck;
or. The Gold Brick of Idaho. By Capt. Mark
Wilton.
Moke Horncr, the Boss Roustabout' or,
The Fresh-Water Sharks of the Ove .ow.
By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.
Stampede Steve; or The Doom of the
Double Face. By Buckskin Sum.
Broadcloth Burt. the Denver Dandy; or,
The Thirty Pards oi’ Deadwood. By Captain
Howard Holmes.
old Cross-Eye, the Maverick-Hunter; or,
The Night Riders of Satanta (Yount‘y. By
Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
Duncan, the Sea-Diver; or, The Coast
Vultures. By George St. George.
Colorado Bubc, the Strong Arm of Hot-
;ggiCitg or, The Giant Brothers of Buzzard“;
t. y Wm. H. Manning.
Logger Lem; or. Life and Peril in the
Pine Woods. By Edward Willett.
Three of a Kind. Tiger Dick. Iron Des~
pard. and the Sportive Sport. By P. S. Warne.
A Sport in Spectacles; or, The Bad Time
at Blinco. By Wm. B. Eyster.
Bow‘dcr Bill; or. The Man from Taos.
By Buckskin Sam.
Faro Sn ul, the Handsome Hercules‘ or, The
Grip of Steel. By Joseph E. Badger. r.
303 Top-Notch Tom, the Cowboy Outlaw; or.
The Satanstown Election. By Capt. Whittaker.
304 Texas Jack the Prairie Rattler: or. The
Queen of the Wild Riders. By Buffalo Bill.
305 Silver-Plated Sol the MontanaRover; or.
Giant Dave's Fight With Himself. By Capt.
Mark Wilton.
306 The Roughs of Richmond; or, The
ﬁystery of the Golden Beetle. By Anthony P.
orris.

283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291

292

293
294

295

296
297

298
299
300
301
302

307 The Phantom Pirate; or, The Water
Wolves of the Bahamas. Ily Col. lngraham.

308 Hemlock Bank, Tough and True; or.
The Shadow of Mount Kata din. By Edward

Wiliett.

309 Baybold, tho Battling Bangoréuor,
Old Rocky‘s Tough Campaign. y ck-
skin Sam.

310 The Marshal ofSatanstown or The
Lea c of the Cattle - Litters. y Capt.
Fre erick Whittaker.

311 Hcav Hand, the Relentless; or. The
Marks Men of Paradise Gulch. i‘y Capt.

Mark Wilton.
3 l 2 Kinkioot Karl The Mountain Scourge;
or. Wiping Out the Score. By Morris Rt-‘dwing.
31 3 Mark Magic, Detective. By A. P. Morris.

314 Laiittc' or. The Pirats of the Gulf. Py
Prof. J. H’. lngraham.

3 l 5 Flush Fred’s Double; or The Squat-
ter’s League of Six. By Edward 'Wlllett.

318 lmiltte’s Lieutenant; or Theodore. the
Child or the Sea. By Prof. J. H. lngraham.

31 7 Frank Lighti'oot the Minir Detective;
or. Following a Blind ad. By J. E. Badger.

3 l 8 The Indian Buccaneer; or. Red Rover:
on Blue Waters. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham,

3 19 Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West; or.
The Buckskin Bravos of the Black Hills. By
Buffalo Bill.

320 The Genteel Spotter' or The Night
Hawks of New York. By Albert 'W. Aiken.

321 California Claude, the Lone Bandit. By
Captain Howard Holmes.

322 galls Crimson Coyotes. By Buckskin
m.

323 Hotspur Hu h, the Will-o'-the-Wisp; or.
The Banded Brot ers of the Giant‘s Arm. 1 y
Captain Mark Wilton.

324 Old Forked-Lightning, the Solitar ':
or, Every Inch a Man. By Joe. E. Badger. 1'.

A new imu every Wednesday.

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