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BY J. C. COWDRICK, \, , ' ' \ "l
AUTHOR or “ KENTUCKY JEAN,” “BLUE-GRASS  , _ _ h "'l,‘:(fl";(fl ",‘V-r?‘
BURT," “'er GIANT curm,” “REDLIGHT   ~  '  " 5 ""4 fl“ 
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CHAPTER I.
“run sror SAINT rnou SCARECROW.”

“ SINNER8, repent.”

Instant] every man in the room looked to-
ward the oor, where stood one of the most pe—
culiar-looking specimens of humanity it had
ever been their fortune- ood or bad—to behold.

He was a man not less t an fifty ears of 9,
his hair and heard were plentiful sprka ed
with white, and his face here all t e wrinkles
that fifty hot summers and as many cold and
stormy winters can bestow. His eyes were deep-
set and small, and were halfconcealed beneath
shaggyl brows, but they were as bright and

ierc % as the eies of an en lo. He wore, to
gagina theto ,t e remeinso what had once
been a. high 811 but, but which had now settled ‘ " ‘ 
down until it had the appearance of apartly HORSE AND SABLE 11mm HAD THE APPEAR
closed accordeon. H13 cont was the rugged mom ONE rmcn or aABLE h.”Ai.l::.A..

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.in the town, and all present were doin

2

Rainbow Rob.

 

'relic of what had evidently once been a mod-

erately-expensive beaver overcoat, but which
new looked as though it had seen wonderfully
hard service. His trowsers we must omit de-
scribing, because the coat reached nearly to the
top of his boots, and they were not visible ex-
cept here and there where a hole in that tattered
garment revealed them. And the boots—they
were sadly worn, being down at the heels and
gaping at the toes.

With his long coat buttoned up close to his
chin, and with his solemn expression of face, this
man had, with a slight effort of the imagination,
something of a had-been clerical appearance;
but taken all in all, he had more the appearance
of an inveterate and chronic “ hard case.”

The time was evening, in the early autumn of
1880; the lace was the pretty little town of
“ Silver ugget, in —--— county, Colorado; and
{he scene was within the “Green Bottle ” Sa—
oon.

The saloon was well filled, the Green Bottle
being one of the most popular places of its tl’jlin'd

eir
best to get the enjoyment out- of the eeting
hour they possibly could. Several had jUSt

. ranged themselves at the bar, and were about to

_J

' Itrai ht

 

. the wonderful sobriquet.

 'md' 11 an if
V ghoul allninute

“ crook their elbows” and “ gulp their poison,”
when they were checked by the words we
quote.

For some seconds no one spoke, but all gazed
at the stranger, and he was the first to break
the silence. Stretching forth his right arm and
pointing to the men at the bar, he repeated:

“ Sinners, repent!”

This broke the spell, and the words Were
greeted with a loud burst of laughter.

“ Repent 0’ what, stranger?” inquired one of
the men at the bar.

“ Repent of what you are about to do, oh sin-
ner.” was the reply. “ Put the vile liquor
down.”

“ Ha, ha, hal” the questioner laughed, “jest

what we’re about for do, stranger, fer a fact. -

We’ll put ’er down, hey, boys? Jest crook ag’in,
ards, an’ we’ll drink to th’ stranger’s health.
ere’s to ye, stranger- a long life an’-—— Ha,

ha, ha! jest th’ idee, by Satan! I’ll give th’

stranger a name. Here, feller-citizens, here’s to
him—here’s to his health—here’s to th’ Spot

Saint from Scarecrow!”

Instantly a bowl of laughter burst from the
crowd—a howl such as the Green Bottle had
never heard before, and while the main body of
the crowd continued to whoop and hurrah, the
men at the bar drank the toast.

The stranger put up both arms and waved to
the crowd to be silent, but it was some time be-
fore he could make himself heard. At length,
however, the hilarious merriment abated a lite
1:10, and then he was heard to exclaim:

' " Repent, oh sinners! repent, repent!”

'“ Nary a repent!" cried he who had bestowed
“ That’s yer name,
stranger, an’ it’ll stick to ye like a brother.

I .When we name a feller-creetur’ out in these

parts, stranger, we name him fer keeps, au’ I’ve

given ye a name that ye’ll carry with ye to th’

flaw.  Spot Saint from Scarecrow.’ Ha,
ha.

A ain the room rung with Ian hter.
“To made a mistake thong , Dan," one of

‘ the other drinkers remarked.

“ How’s that?”

“ Why, ye call him th’ Spot Saint from Scare—
crow; ain t he a scarecrow himself?’

“ Ha, ha, ha! I don’t know but you’re right,
Jim ' mebby I could ’a’ hit him a tactic closer;
but I guess there’s no help fer it now. When
we once name a man out here, he’s named.”

How true this is is well known.

“Sinnen-—worldlings—idolaters—re at!”

The stranger had new advanced into 9 room
and pausing at a table where four men were about
to mums a game of cards which his coming in
bad interrupted, he uttcrpd his exhortatory
command again. '

“ nt 0' what, Scarecrow i” one player de-
mand none too mildly.
> “ Repeat of what you are about to do oh,
sinner! Put up your money and throw own
the cards.”

Another burst of laughter greeted this.

“ Why you old fool! that’s jest what we are
doin’,” the player cried “ Our money is al-

' ou will keep yer eyes on us for
reckon ye’l see th cards come

‘ t, repent!”
“ it here. stranger," called the first speaker
-—he named Dan, “ what is yer proper name
when you’re at home?”

“ My name, sir, is Hannibal Long,” was the

respectful 1y.
“ An’ whg d’yo hail from i”

“ From everywhere and nowhere. I am like
thq wind; I come slid I go."

‘ That ain’t a very satisfyin’ answer to a
uestion stranger.”
“ tist e truth.”
« “ What I want tor git at is—whar d’ye come
from now? Whar did ye last make tracks
from! What town did ye last honor with yer

eel
“ You mean what place do I call ‘ home ’l"
“ Thari now yo?va got it."

 

“Well, I do not mind telling you that. The ‘V

camp where I am best known is a little town
called ‘ Scarecrow,’ and there I am known as the
‘ S )ot Saint.’ ”

his reply was made in as earnest and
straightforward a manner as though it were the
very essence of truth.

Again there was alangh, not at the stranger
this time, however, but at his persistent interro-
gator.

This man, the questioner, was one Dan Gil-
bert, a big, overbearing bully toward strangers
and all who did not know him. Those who did
knew him knew his weak point, which was that
he had no “ sand” to back up‘ his dire threats
and vengeful vows. He was, to use the popular
phrase, “ all wind.” In size, though, he was al-
most a giant, and few strangers indeed ever
braved his anger. .

On this occasion he glared at the man be-
fore him in silent amazement for some moments,
and then cried:

“By Satan, stranger, if I thought ye were
tryin’ her make game 0’ me, I’d chaw ye all up!
D’ve know who I be?”

“No,” the old man answered, “I have not
that honor.” '

“ Wal, you’ll be likely for find out, I kin tell
ye. if ye try any funny work.”

“Sinner, repent!”

“ New look here, stranger, do you mean for to
say you are from a town called ‘Scarecrow,’
an’ that yer handle is ‘S ot Saint’?”

“ Do I look like a liar, my friend?” the old
man quietly asked.

“ That ain’t to th’ p’int!” the bull persisted,
now growing warm with anger. “ hat I want
fer know is—be you th’ Spot Saint from
Scarecro w l”

“Bless me, my friend, but you do need a

ood deal of assuring upon a simple point.
ave you not already declared that such is my
name?”

The tables were now completely turned. The
laugh was no longer against the stranger, but
against Dan Gilbert.

“Look here, you old tramp!” taking a step
forward as he spoke, “if on r’ile me up it
won’t go easy with ye, I tel yo! I asked yo 9.
civil uestion, an’ by Satan I mean fer ter have
a civ1 answer!”

“I have answered your questions my good
fellow. You asked my name and I gave it.
You asked where I come from and I told you.
What more would you have? If I have over-
looked an inquiry, )ray repeat it.”

The 01 man spo e slowly, calml
tinctly, his deep, sonorous voice
room grandly.

" Dast your homely, wrinkled old mug!” cried
the bully in rage “you know well enou h what
I want, an’ new if e don’t talk straigh I’ll eat

6, boots an’ all. want ter know if that name
gev ye 1's yer name.”

‘ My son of Gamaliel, it is.”

3‘ An’ you’re from Scarecrow?”

“ I am.”

“ An’ you’re called th’ Spot Saint?”

“I am, as I have assured you before, and as
you, too, have assured all present. I now de-
cline to answer any further questions upon the
subject.”

“Oh! ye do, do ye?” shouted the enraged
blusterer—onraged because the laugh of the
crowd hhad beenocturned agaimiyléim, and 
cause ewasn carryin eve ngin is
own h h-handed way- “vgvell, we’ll see ’bout
that. but I want know is—was. that
yer handle afm I _ev late yel an’ now if you
don’t answer me it he th worst for ye.”

“ I have said that I shall answer no further
questions upon the subject. What I say, I
mean.” .

“Fiendsl D’ye mean for say ye won’t an-
swer’l—won’t answer me r I’ll see whether ye
won’t or not! If you kem to this town ter git
into a muss, stranger, ye couldn’t ’a’ hit a better
man. An’ it seems ter me that’s jest what ye
did come here fer. You must want for commit
suercide. I guess ye never heard o’ me—th’
long-clawed grizzly, did ye? Non you answer
my question, stronger, or by Satan I’ll lift yer
seal l"

T e attention of the whole crowd was now
centered upon Dan Gilbert and the ctr-anger.
Dan’s prowess—or more properly his lack of
that quality—was well known to most of the
lockers-on, and all were curious to see how the
affair wouldterminate. -

There was an awful calmness about the old
pilgrim that seemed, to presage ill for Mr. Gil-

t

and dis-
lling the

r -.

Wavin his hand gently before the angry
man, as though to cool his temper, the old man
re sated his admonition.

‘Sinncr, repent." . . '

So great became the bully’s ra then that he
turned red and white alternate y, and glared
at the stranger on though he Would crush

him.

“D’ye mean for defy me?” he cried; “ d’ye
really want ter die? Stranger, I’ll give ye jest
one minute ter answer my question, an' hen if
ye don’t, by Satan I’ll bore ye!”

The old man did not flinch, nor was there a
tremor in a single muscle. Indeed, he looked

i

 

 

aw
..

his t:‘ilrllversary squarely in the eyes and re-

a ' :

“ Son of Anak, repent 1”

Dan Gilbert had thrust his hand behind him
as he made his threat, and he now partly drew
a revolver from his belt.

“ Stranger,” he cauti0ned, “ don’t ye say them
words ag’in.”

They were said instantly.

“ Sinner, repent.”

Out came the revolver, and fairly trembling in
his rage—and rhaps a little with secret fear,
too, Dan hissed):e

“ Stranger, I see ye want ter die. I see ye’ve
come here a— urpose ter commit suercide. Say
them words Jest once more, if ye dare.”

“ Sinner, repent.”

As nick as a flash the stranger’s hand had
slipp through one of the convenient holes in
his tattered coat; as quickly it slipped out again;
and then, as he repeated the forbidden words,
he backed them up with a revolver aimed
straight at Dan Gilbert’s head.

CHAPTER II.
THE BLACK RIDER.

“ STRANGER, I reckon I’ll have ter.”

These, after gazing silently for a moment into
the dark tube of the Spot Saint’s revolver, were
the words with which Dan Gilbert acknowledged
his defeat. And he put his own revolver away
at once.

“ Bound ter git bolt 0’ th’ wrong man once in
a while, hey, Dan 3” some one shouted.

“Bully fer th’ Spot Saint!” exclaimed some
one else.

“ I am sorry, gentlemen,” the Spot Saint
avowed, “ that so un leasant a scene should
have taken place, but it was not provoked by
me. I am no brawler or disturber of the ace,
and it is seldom indeed that I have occaSion to
uses. weapon of def so. When such an ocean
sion presents itself, hough, the weapon is al-
ways ready, and I am not wholly unacquainted
with its use. If the gentleman is satisfied
now, and will not trouble me any further, I
Iwillg'eturn my weapon to its place; if not, if

e—_

“Oh! I’m satisfied, stranger, I’m satisfied 1”
Dan quickly exclaimed, as the bright little 6 es
of the old man turned upon him again, see g
to burn into his very bein .

“ Very well, then,” thrusting his revolver back
through the hole in his coat, “let our little mis-
understanding be forgotten. I have no doubt
that you are a better man than I, but, be that
as it may, I have no desire to quarrel with you.
I bear no ill will a ainst you, my friend, and if
to-morrow I can 0 a friendly turn for on,

on have but to command me. Will you 8 aka
ands?”

Dan hardly knew what to do. This man’s

uliar way was something entirely new to
im. He hesitated a moment, however, and
then he gave his hand, saying: '

“ Sartain I will, stranger, sartainl I don’t
bear you no ill will nuther, an’ so we’ll let our
little dimculty be a thing 0’ th’ past. ”

The pair shook hands, and Dan added:

“ Won’t ye take a little somethin’, stran—” ; ,

“No, no, my friend,” the S t Saint cried,

 

v putting up both hands as thong he would wave

the bar and its array of bottles out of sight, “ I
have reformed. Do not tempt me. I am di~
vorced from the fell and weaknesses of the
world, and have no esire to wed them agai
Pray do not tempt me.” , ’

“ All ri ht, stranger, all right; jest as ye
please; I s a’n’t press ye.”

“ Because he’s toomighty quick with his l”
queried Jerry Lynch, the proprietor 0 the
saloon, who was leaning upon his her: With
folded arms.

“ Not so much that, Jerry ” one of the crowd
corrected, " as it is because e’s repented.”

Another laugh followad.

“ By th’way,stran er an’meanin’nooflense,”
said the vanquished fimlly, presently, “might I
inquire what your callin’ is? that is ter say-
what is yer business?”

“You may, assured] . Calling—business—
all such have I laid asi e as they are consider-
ed in a worldly sense. I have a mission to

rform. I am here to reform the world. I am

ere to dethrone Evil. I am here to save you.
Repent, oh, sinners! repent, repent!”

‘ That’s what’s the matter, sinners; you want
to repent!”

Again all eyes sought the door. ‘

There stood—bow shall we describe him!—
one of Nature’s most rfect specimens of mag-
nificent manhood. e Was a young man, no”
more than twenty~flve, perhaps, and was strik-
ingly good-looking both of face and of form.
He was tall, straight and well proportioned, and
every outline of his shapely form indicated
strength and agility. His complexion was dark.
he s rted a graceful mustache, and a wealth of
dar '-brown 1 air, such as a woman might envy,
fell in a heavy mass upon'his broad shoulders.
His every feature was rfect, and his eyes,
black and bright, shone l ke twin diamonds. He
was in a neatly-fitting suit of the best
corduroy, dark—almost black—blue in color,
and-cut in a highly stylish manner. His

was‘ of the softest felt, broad-brimmed and. ‘

,.

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- 4»,

 

 

  
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

    

Loniig, .
' Mr. Tulip, Mr. Scarecrow; r.—”

‘ " There was a sudden and great commotion

shapely, and white. His boots were of the ; near the door; loud and heavy steps resounded . bar, and Jerry was called upo

finest material in the line of French “ calf,” and
dis layed his shapely feet to good advantage.

* he most noticeable feature of his attire, how-
ever, was his necktie. Not because it was large,
flashy, or “loud,” for of these it was neither;
but because its bright colors contrasted so
strikingly t0 the sonibrousness of his suit, as seen
by lamplightgand to the whiteness of his hat.
It was a small tie, and modestly worn, but it

ossesscd all the brilliant hues of the rainbow.

11 fact, it was a creditable imitation of the rain-
bow—an imitation in Woven silk.

This young stranger stood justinside the door,
his hands thrust into his trowscrs pockets, his
feet slightly apart, and his hat pushed up from
his forehead. A smile rested upon his face, and
his bi'i ht eyes sparkled with good-nature.

“ He lo!” exclaimed Dan Gilbert, “ here’s
another stranger! W hat might your handle be,
mister?”

“ Well, my friend,” the young man replied,
“it might be almost anything, I suppose, but it
isn’t. N hen I used to go to school. I believe
the master chalked me down as Robert Ran-
som.”

“ Robert Ransom, ch!
Where d’yo hail from!"

“From down Texas way.”

“ Texas, eh? Well, now, Mr. Ransom, you
need another name. I’ve jist had the honor to
christen this gentleman,” indicating the Spot
Saint, “ an’ I may as well Christen you. When
a stranger strikes this part of th’ wild an’
woolly West, th’ first duty of th’ citizens is ter
give him a becomiu’ name. Now s’pose I call
you tb’—”

“Just wait a moment, my friend,” the young
stranger interrupted, utting up his hand» “ let
me twitter a few wor s. I am greatly obliged
to you for the kindly interest you manifest in
my welfare, but I must ob'ect to being named
by you, for two reasons. ne is, you might not
give me a suitable sobriquet, and the other, be-
cause I already ssess about all the burlesque
nicknames that ngau carry around with me con-
veniently.”

“ Oh! then ye’ve got yer everyday Western
name a’ready, have 9?”

“ That’s the Gospe truth; I have.”

“ Any objections ter tellin’ us what it is? Ye
see, we don't jest cotton to full names out hour;
what we want is a sort 0’ free-an’-easy title that
we ain’t likely to fergit. If you’re already fixed
out, 07” course it won’t be necessary ter name ye

’in.

“ Well, my friend, I am known as ‘ Rainbow
Rob, the Tulip from Texas.’ ”

Mr. Gilbert stepped back bless.

“ Do you think it will answer for all ordinary
requirements?” the young stranger asked.

“ It—it'll do!”

“ If you can improve upon it any, I might be
induced to change it.”

“ No—no, I guess I can’t go any better this
deal.”

“ Very well, then; I’ll carry the old burden.
And now, gentlemen, one and all, step up and
poison yourselves at my expense.”

Instantly there was a general stampede to-

“ Oh sinners! re t, repent I ” and with both
arms u lifted the pot Saint tried to wave the
crowd ack.

He mi ht as well have tried to stop a cyclone
with his reatb.

“ That reminds me,” cried Dan Gilbert, while
the crowd surged before the bar' “ I must intro-
duce you two strangers. 'ubow Robert,
Tull from Texas allow me tb’ pleasure o’
sentiii’ ye to Mr. fiannibal Lo th’S tSaint
from Scarecrow. Mr. nbow;

Rob fer short, I s’posc.

. ward the bar.

“ I hope the pleasure of this rather unique in-
troduction is mutual, Mr. Long,” the oung
sport interru ted, as be extended DI! ban .

“I hope‘i is, Mr. Ransom ” was the Spot
Saint’s re use, as he gave his handat once
and willing .

The two 3 ook hands.

“You are something of a crank, I take it.”
the young stranger remarked, while his band
still gasped the other’s.

“ keerful, Tulip!” Dan continued, in an
undertone; “ he’s lightnin’ on th’ draw.”

“ So men call me,” the Spot Saint made
answer, without taking offend, “ but such I am
not. I have a mission to perform, a work to do.
I am here to reform the world. I am here to
dethrone Evil. 0h sinner! repent.”

“ Repeut! 1! Lord love our honest old
heart, what have I to repent o i I’m as ho
as the sun. Self-praise is a lame horse, I all w,
but I’m giving you the truth in a solid square.
I’m on the side of right every time.”

“Yes, but yoa have just lured men to taste
the iisou cup.”

“ Band them! Ha, ha, ha! Excuse my
.laugbing. Saint, but the idea really amuses me.
Why. half this crowd was at the bar before I
had the Words out of my mouth.”

“ I do not dispute that; still you oppose the
good work i Would do.”

I!“ Old man, your task is an impoaibility.

w—

l

 

Rainbow Rob.

v-._.- fir ...__J.-.T.".k. ‘_

through the room—steps so heavy that the floor ‘

fairly trembled beneath them, and, to theirl

wonder and amazement, the crowd beheld a
masked man entering the room on horseback.

Both horse and rider were as black as mid- .
1 other pool—tables, waiting to see what was com-

night. The horse was a handsome animal, and
the man, clothed entirely in black, even to bat,
mask and gloves, sat upon its back with such an
easy grace that he looked to hea part of the
noble animal itself. The saddle, too, was black,
as was every part of its belongings, and the
bridle.

The moment they were within the room both
horse and rider saluted the crowd. the former
by raising itself upon its hind legs for a mo-
iiient, and the latter by a wave of the hand;
then the rider rode straight to the bar, the
crowd opening a way for him with alacrity.

“ Whose trcat is this?” the black rider asked.

“ It is mine,” answered Rainbow Rob, prompt-

y.

“ It includes all comers?”

“It dies, sir.”

“Very well. Mr. Barkeeper, give me a glass
of ale and a small glass of brandy.”

“ Yes, sir.”

Jerry set about providing the drinks at once,
and in a moment they were ready.

All present were curious to know what the
masked man intended to do with the two so un-
congenial liquors.

Taking the brandy for himsillf, the black
rider directed Jerry to set the ale before the
horse.

The bartender did so, and the horse at once
took the glass into its mouth.

“ Stranger, your health,” the masked man
then saluted, and, as be raised the brandy to his
lips, through a mouth-place in his mask the
horse raised its head and poured the ale own
its throat.

A loud cheer greeted the rformance, and
the cheer was re ted when t 0 horse lowered
its head and rep aced the glass upon the bar un-
in ‘ured.

he masked rider tossed his glass to the bar-
keeper, and then turned his horse from the bar
and started down the room.

In the rear end of the room were four pool-
tables.

Riding down the left-hand side of the room
and around three of these tables, as they stood
in a square, the man touched his horse lightly
as he a roached the fourth table, and the ani-
mal, Wit an easy effort, vaulted upon it.

CHAPTER III.
a c o o L N E av E .

VERILY the citizens of Silver Nugget were
witnessing exploits which to the most of them
were new.

The S t Saint and Rainbow Rob were for the
time being forgotten, and the interest of the
crgwd was centered upon the daring black
n or. ‘

The moment the horse landed upon the pool-
table, it straightened u and stood motionless,
and sable horse and sub 9 rider had the a pear-
auce of a statue carved from one piece 0 sable
marble.

For some moments they remained thus, and
the crowd was silent.

Then the voice of Jerry Lynch, the proprie-
tor, was beard exclaiming:

“ Good heavens! mister, you’ll ruin that table.
Take your, horse of! of it at once.”

“ Ha, ha, ha! don‘t be alarmed, my good
friend!” the daring masquerader exclaimed, as
he looked around. '

‘gi’it, you'll tear the cloth! You’ll break the

l “ Then you’ll have to charge it to profit and
oss.

“ Be heavens, I’ll charge nothin’! and I want
ye. to et down from there instantor!”

“ ch I shall not do until I get ready.”

“ You'll do it before you’re ready, if 0 don’t
do it mighty quick!” and Jerry reach for his
revolver.

“ Now, see here, my friend.” said the black
rider, “if you don’t keep cool I’ll give you cause
to feel concern for the safet of our table. I’ll
make my horse dance the ty id Quickstep all
"359% ’1! d th’ h ck dead

u you ance m' -qui -step
if on don’t get down, bong—fix
‘ Hold on! I’ve gft the drop!” the masked
man exclaimed, as erry was just raising his
weapon, and, true enough, a revolver was point-
in straight at the paprietor’s nose.
ry

 

ithout a word. wheeled face about
and returned to his place behind the bar.
It was clear that his unbidden and unruly
guest had the best of the argument.
“Gentlemen,” the mysterious mask-wearer
then said, addressing the crowd, “ althou h this
is not my first visit to your town, it is t eflrst
time I have been here in this guise. And I am
here on business. What my business is you
shall soon learn. Who I am you need not ask,
for on shall learn that, too. This is about

all have to say. And now beforeIprooeed
twith i’py business, let me ask all present to

,r J .; N i
f. L‘ u . ‘1‘ ' / n H. I . r. l

   

/

3

n to set out his
wares again, which be (lid reluctantly, for he
had doubts about getting any pay.

While the crowd was drinking, the black

: rider sat silent and motionless upon his horse.

 

Instantly there was another rush toward the

  

Rainbow Rob stood leaning against one of the

ing next, and the Spot Saint, now seated back
against the wall. looked as though he considered
his “ mission” an iiiipOSsiblc task.

At length all who wanted to drink had done
so, and then the black rider spoke again.

“ Gentlemen," he said, at the same time draw-
ing from under his coat :1 rolled paper, “I will
now proceed to explain the object of my visit
here tonight. I have here a public notice
which I desire to p st upon the wall of this sa-
loon, so that it may be ieen by all. Mr. Propri-
etor, where will you have me ut it?”

Jerry informed him that e might put it
where be pleased.

“'Very well; then I will post it right here on
the wall,” indicating where. “ Please stand
aside, gentlemen, while I get down."

The crowd fell back, and, obeying a light
touch. the black horse sprung from the table to
the floor with the agility of a cat.

Riding close to the wall then, the black
rider unrolled the paper he held, and proceeded
to tack it to the wall with the butt of his revol-
ver. -

“ Hold on, stranger,” some one called out;
“ you’ve got it inside out.” .‘

True enough, the side of the paper exposed to
view was entirely blank.

The mysterious horseman paid no attention to
the speaker, but continued his work until the
pa r was securely placed.

hen, of a sudden, his horse became restless,
and began to paw the floor and shy from side to
side.

“Look out, citizens!” the black rider called
out; “clear the way to the door! Black Satan
is tting uneasy!”

‘ Black Satan!” cried several, in tones of sur-

use.
p “ Yes, Black Satan,” the rider aflirmed; and
the horse becoming more quiet  then, the
masked man reached up and too hold of the
edge of the blank paper he had just pasted up.

“ An’ you, stranger, who be you?” the same
voice demanded.

“ l, gentlemen, am— Look out! clear the
way therel— I am Sulphur Sam, the proscribed
road-agent !" ,

With a quick motion the self-confesed high-
wayman tore d0wu the blank paper, revealing
a. printed poster beneath it, and then, with a
wi d yell, be spurred his horse to the door and,
disa pea .

“ , ha, ha, ha!” his wild laugh was carried
back upon the evening air, and in a few mo-‘
ments more the hoof-strokes of his horse died
away in the distance.

Few had followed him to the door, for nearly
all eyes were fixed upon the poster hebadoo
adroitly unveiled.

And that poster ran:

“av-31,000 REWARD! .a

“On ll‘nouum) Donna: Rxwuin will be paid to
the persbn or persons who will capture and deliver ,
to me the notorious outlaw ‘ 8mm Sax.‘

"Joan Ramona,
“ Sheri! of —-— 0mm."

“ Whew I” whistled Rainbow Rob, " but that
was a cool deed !”

“ I!” cried Jerry Lynch, as heexamined
his damaged l-table, " should say it was!
I’m sorry I didn’t shoot th’ rascal th’ minute he
put his nose inside th’ door, for I expected some-
thin’like this th’instant I let 9 esonto him.
Just look at that table! with tb’c cut in a
dozen places, and for all I know th’alabacracked
besides! I wouldn’t had it damaged fer a bun-
dred dollars! ’
didnggvei‘iifer tl‘ii’ treantdhe o ” 

‘ y yo emu pay mace
queried Dan Gilbert. ‘ ‘

“0b! go to thunder!” retorted Jerry. “ How
could I demand anything, and he with his
shootin’-iron in hand?”

“ Then what he ye growlin’ at!” Jest put it
down to profit an’ loss, as he told ya to.” .

“ If you’re burning for revenge,” remarked

And tb‘ devil’s im that he is "

Rainbow Rob, “ you might set to work and cap- "

ture him and earn the reward.”
“ By heavens. I’d like to! but it is easier said
than done, I’m thinkin’. I’ll leavo that job for

you.”

“Thank you, butIamnotin search of mob
work at present. Perhaps our friend. the Spot
Saint, here, would like to go for the thousand!"

The Spot Saint shook his head, but remained
seated and silent. ,

“ I kin tell ye what it are, feller cits,” declared
big Dan Gilbert, “if l’d ‘a‘ kuowed that fellow
was Sulphur Sam, you kin bet yer bats he
wouldn’t ‘a’ got out 0’ here so easy. I’d ‘a’
pulled my wee ’ on him an’ I’d ‘a’ said-

Hanzs u , 0 that i’gr‘ y’e’ll bear alpniet'laioig’,
drop! a on a dropped im !
Oh! I wish {an come back here fel' mi

brief second,jestlongenougbfermetergl

 

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4

was, an’ that I didn’t git acrack at him afore he
got away.”

“ Bah ” cried Jerry Lynch, “ you’re all wind.
We know ye. If that man returned, you’d be
th’ first to git out o’ sight. Don’t do yer blowin'
’round here!”

“ Would I?” the braying bully—so he was
called, by the way—shouted, as he drew his re-
volver and flourished it about; “ would I be th’
first ter it out o’ sight? I jest wish he’d come,
80’s I con (1 show ye how I’d run an’ hide! You
may think ye know Dan Gilbert, but by Satan
ye don’t! I’m th’ long-clawed grizzly of th’
woolly West, I am, an’ on‘t ye fergit it! Why,
stranger,” to Rainb0w Rob, “ these here citizens
hain’t never seen me with my war-paint on. I’m
a howlin’ cyclone when I git started, an’ if that
feller should ke his suoot inside 0’ that door at
this minute ’d make him a prisoner afore he
could wink. Oh!”—-with flourishing arms and
dilated eyes—“ I’m a real—”

At that instant the door opened, and— No,
reader, you mistake; you anticipate this time in
vain; it was not the road-a ent, who entered,
but a meek and mild-eyed litt e woman.

Had it been Sulphur Sam, though, the effect
upon Dan Gilbert could not have been more
marked. At sight of the little woman his face

led, his tongue was stilled, his jaw dropped,

is arms fell to his sides, and his whole appear-
ance was that of dismay.

The little woman paused just within the door,
310:3? eagerly around for an instant, and then

, ,1,-

“ Daniel 1”

Her voice was high and piercing, and Daniel,
the “ terrible,” fairly quaked.

“DanIELl” she repeated, in a still hi her and
louder key, “ where are ye? ye needn think I
don’t know e’re here, for I do. I heerd yer
voice afore kem in. I heerd ye a—blowin’, I
did, Dan’l, so ye might jest 62 well come ri ht

out an’ show yerself, ye— Oh! there ye be, e i” H

as she caught sight of her liege lord in the
crimlilvd, and she made a dash toward him forth-
w t .

No need to offer the explanation that this
was Dan’s wife.

“ Now, you Dan’l,” she said when she reached
him, laying hold upon his arm, “you jest put
that ’ere pistol away, an’ come right along
home. There’s no sense in your bein’ here a
tall. Home is th’ place for ye. There’ll be a
fight jest as like as not, an’ it would be jest like
ye ter be in th’ way an’ git hurt. Come, now,
come right along home.”

“ Let go 0’ me!” exclaimed Dan, roughly, as
he trihd to shake the woman ofi’.

. “ No, I won’t let go! ou’Ve got ter go home!”

“ Let go, I tell yer !’ Dans outed, then, and
he thrust his revolver back into his belt and
raised his fist as though to strike.

_Instantly a dozen weapons were leveled at

1m.

“ Don’t ye do that, Dan Gilbert!” he was
ordered.

“Son of Anak, repent!” said the Spot Saint,
in earnest tones.

A laugh followed this.

“ Come on, you fule l” Mrs. Gilbert exclaimed;
“ can’t fie see everybody’s a-lafiln’ at ye? Come
on !” pu ing at Dan's arm vigorously.

“ I'won’t go!” Dan declared doggedly, “an’ I
tell er ter let go 0’ me! D’ye hear?”

“ e won’t o, eh!” his better-half insinuated,
as with a uic motion she snatched his revolver
from his t; “ we’ll see! Now, Dan Gilbert,
you ped for home right smart, or I’ll make my-
self a widder!”

The [little woman cocked and leveled the
weapon as she spoke, and after a lance and a
moment’s hesitation, Dan conclu ed that he
would go, and started, amid the loud laughter
and jeers of the crowd.

CHAPTER IV.
ran snsmr’s vsasxox.

To most of those present this little “ leasant-
ry” of Mrs. Gilbert’s was not new. hey had
seen her display her ascendency over the “ un-
tamed hyena ” before.

To the stranger, however, it was a most

using sgctac 0.
“Mrs. Gi rt, as stated was a meek and mild-
eyed little woman,‘while llel' husband was a big,
brand-shouldehr‘ed fellgw, almost da tgiant; she
we $113 ps a undred an n poun s
and e nogfn ounce less than two hundred a
twen .

Buglitfle as she was, she ruled her “ lord and

master.

It was a standing he at Silver Nug t that,
whent “ l r”hadm 0 Dan
Gilbert and'his aith better-half one, she took
it upon herself to be that “ one.”

And not a little fun did the boon companions
of the “ hraying bully” have at his expense,

. wise: they felt so inclined.

this occasion, however the pair were no
sooner out of sight and hearing than the crowd
forgot the divert episode, and turned their
attention again to e lacard the daring black
rider had so boldly

Then it was, start? them in face-=—
_ “$1,000 Reward!” An that reward?“ odor-

 

 

Rainbow Rob.

ed for the vory man who had entered their
presence and put the notice up!

As Rainbow Rob had expressed it, it was
certainly a “ cool deed.” And, “ Sulphur Sam ”
was a cool man.

u Let us give him a more finished introduc-
on.

He was a highwayman and outlaw in the true
sense. He was an Ishmael. His hand was
against every man, and eyery man’s hand was
against him. He was one of the most darin
“ toll-takers ” Colorado had ever known. e
had first made his appearance in the wild
Yampah region, and from there had made his
way all over the State, even making so bold as
to utter his command of “ hands up! ’ to travel-
ers within sight of Denver, and in broad day-
light. He was as merciless, too as bold, and
many a deed of blood was laid to his account.

It is not b any means our intention to make
a “ hero” 0 such a character, but such men ex-
ist, and if we speak of them at all, we must
speak of them as we find them.

The fate of such men- is seldom to be envied,
and never to be desired. In rare instances, one
escapes the penalty of human law and justice;
but what honest man would change places with
him, to enjoy (?) life in hiding, even with ill-
gotten wealth at command?

Who Sulphur Sam was, nobody knew; and no
gne could be found who had ever seen his

ace.

Of late he had been “‘ levying " upon the
mountain camps of —— county, and at last the
sheriff had been authorized, following the lead
of some of the other counties and several indi-
viduals to offer a reward for his apprehension.

But t t that reward should be made public
by the outlaw himself, was something unheard

o .

“ Who is this Sulphur Sam?” asked Rainbow
Rob, as the crowd turned attention again tothe
placard. “ Being from down Texas way, I’m
not ted.”

“ e’s a danged rascal!” declared the pro-
prietor of the Green Bottle, promptly.

“ I haven’t the least doubt of that, seeing that
your sheriff offers a cool thousand for him.”

“ Well, that’s all we know about him.”

“ Never saw him before eh?”

“ No, I never did that I know of,” Jerr re-
plied, “ an’ I guess nobody else here ever id.”

“ I seen him once,” announced one man,
“ but it was at night, an’ he wore his black

I mask. He shot th’ driver that night, an’ I had ,

ter drive th’ hearse on to town.”

“Then you must have guemed who it was
when he came in.”

“ Yas, I did; an’ I knowed enough ter hold

my Ry, too.

‘ here does this Sheriff Barkmore live?” the
Tulip from Texas next asked, again addressing
the roprietor.

“ y, he lives right here in town,” Jerry
answered.

“ Then, citizens, is it not a little strange how
this Sulphur Sam got this placard out of his
possession, and came here and put it up unmo-

estedi

“Stranger, ye’re ri ht,” cried several.
“ Come, boys, let’s go fin ther sheriff! Mebby
that cuss has laid him out!”

At once some six or eight men started for the
door, but they were checked by another voice

“ Say, ners, here’s somethin’ writ’ at th’
bottom 0 this hour poster!”

The speaker was one who had advanced to take
a closer look at the placard.

“ What is it?” was the cry from all.

Rainbow Rob stepped forward close to the wall
to learn what the man, who evidently could not
rad, had found.

Sure enough, there was a line of pencil writ-
ing, which ran:

“ The sheriff of -— county may slit his own ears
for a hog. 80mm; San."

“What is it, Tulip! Read it out! Let’s hear
what it says!” etc, were the cries on every side,
and Rob complied and read the words aloud.

Just as he was doing so John Barkmore, the
sheriff, rushed into the room, hatless and almost

breathless.

“ What’s that!” he demanded, catching the
outlaw’s name.

“ It’s a message for you,” was the geneml re-

use.

'nghat is it!” the angry sheriff fairly thun-
dered. “ What does it say!"

Rainbow Rob road it again, and Mr. Bark-
more swore in lan e becoming the occasion.

“ Has that rasca been here!” he cried.

“Yes, an’ be made things lively ’round here
for a time, too.”

“The deucemhegidl And didn’t any of you

m

try to arrest
‘ We didn’t any of us know who he was till be
we: 033'; ’ t ” i to the man who
o as me, n rpesed

had acknozvlegged having seen the black rider
before, “.an' I had too much regard for my
health tor chipin on his deal.”

“ You say you knew him!”

“Wal not' that,hut I’dseenhimafore,

V be was.”

an’Ilndan

.‘v
.3.

l

 

 
 

__.1

“ And who put that notice up there i” the sher-
ifl demanded.

“ Th’ cut-throat did it himself!” cried Jerry
Lynch. “ Be heavens, he came in here on horse-
back! jumped his horse up upon me best pool-
table! treated th’ crowd at my expense! an’ then
he tacked up that notice with the butt of his pis-

I to], an’ scooted. Oh! but he’s th‘ divil’s own

imp, an’ we]! named, too!” -

‘ And which way did he 0?”

“Right down th’ street,’ some one replied-
“ I was comin’ by this way when he dashed out
0’ here, an’ be struck out fer down th’ Old
Trail.”

“By heavens! I’ll have him, dead or alive!
Citizens, that offer of a reward is genuine, and
there’s your chance to earn a cool thousand.”

“ You are Sheriff Blackmore?” queried Rain-
bow Rob as he made his way nearer to where
the sherifi stood.

“ I am, sir,” was the short answer; “ who are
you?”

“ My name is Robert Ransom. I’m from
Texas. We are a little curiousto know how that
road-agent got this poster out of your possession
and how he had the nerve to come here and put
it u .

“ erve? He’s got nerve enough for any-
thing! I had just got the posters from the
printer, and was looking at them, seated by m
desk near the side-Window of my office, inten -
ing to set out at once and put them uE. Sud-
denly there tame a crash of glass rig t beside
me, and, looking quickl up, beheld a black
revolver, held in a blac -gloved hand, pointing
straight at me through the broken pane.

“‘ ands up!’ was the order, and of course,
under the circumstances I obeyed.

“ At first I could see only the revolver and the
hand that held it, but after a moment I made
out the outline of a black horse and a black
rider. Then I beheld a pair of eyes glaring at
me through the hole.

“ ‘ What d’ye want?’ I demanded.

“ ‘Are you the sheriff of this county? was
asked. .

“ ‘ I am,’ I answered.

“ ‘ What are thOse placards you’re looking at?’
was the next inquiry.

“ ‘ Notices of a reward of a thousand dollars
for the capture of Sulphur Sam,’ I explained.

“ ‘ Well, just gut two of them face to face, roll
them up, and and them out here. No false
moves, now, or I’ll pitvh l-rad right inter you. I
am Sulphur Sam, um! I’ll post one of than up
for ou.’ So he ordered.

“ here was no help for it, so I rolled the two
Rosters up as directed, and handed them out.

hen I was ordered to hold my hands up again.

“ ‘Now,’ said the rascal, ‘ do not move for fif-
teen minutes, unless an want to die. I have a
man posted here, an he has ot you covered.
Good-hi ht, Mr. Sherifi.’ An he was gone.

“ We! , there I was. I did not believe he had
a man there at all, but I did not dare risk mov-
ing, so there I had to sit. I could see the clock,
and every minute seemed an age. At last,
when ten minutes had dragged by, I happened
to think of a plan to get on of the fix I was in.
That plan was—to blow out the lamp,

“ I cursed myself for not thinking of it before.
If I could succeed, and thus plunge the room
in total darkness, no one without would be able
to see me. I drew a long breath, then gayea
powerful blow, and out the li ht went. Then

sprung out- of range instant , but as no shot
was fired I concluded that had not been
watched at all.

“ Out of the house I rushed, then, hoping ’to
get a shot at the dare-devil before he got out of
town, but— Well, here I am, and he is gone.”

“ Pretty well done!" Rainbow Rob exclaimed.

” You’re right,” the sherifl had to admit.
“ I’ll sonare the account with him though,” he
added, ‘ and we’ll see where the laugh WlII‘be
when the game ends.”

“ M opinion, Mr. Sheriff,” remarked the
Spot "at, as he arose from his chair “from
what I have seen and heard, is, that he man
who sets out to earn the reward you offer will
have a big job on hand.”

“ Hello who are you I” the sheriff demanded,
wheeling around.

“ I am Hannibal Long, the Spot Saint from
Scarecrow. 1—”

“ Ha, ha, ha!” the sheriff lau hed, “ what a
name! The ‘ Scarecrow ’ would more to the
poin I think."

“ hat’s in a name?” the Saint quoted. “I
am satisfied with mine. I, sir, have a mission
to perform I am here to—”

‘ I thought so,” the sherifi interru ted, with
another laugh, and then waving the o d man to
silence, he added: '

“ Well, good-night, boys. Since the outlaw
has published my reward for me, I will not dis-
tribute the rest of the posters till to-morrow.
Good-night, Mr. Scarecrow; I hope you succeed
in performmg that inimion—whatever it is. Ha,
ha, ha!” and with another burst of hughter the
she‘rgfI retlilred. a n B“ -

tou sco er! the ‘t at called
after him, “ repent, repent!” Spa

During the next hour or two the patrons of
the Green Bottle were not at lam-for themes on

which to converse, for the evening had been one

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of the most prolific of noteworthy events the
saloon had seen for some time.

The hour was late when Rainbow Rob left the
saloon to seek the hotel where he had secured a
room, and the Spot Saint left soon after. The
latter, as he was passing out, turned back for a
moment and once more enjomed:

“ Repent, oh, sinners! repent, repent!”

CHAPTER V.
rm: SILVER casxnr.

THE leading hotel of Silver Nugget was the
“ Colorado House,” owned and managed by one
Ivan Oswald a young man of thirty.

Ivan Oswald was one of the leading men of
the town.

He had come to Silver Nugget about four
years riorto the time of our story, made his

‘pile by some lucky transactions in real
estate, most of which fell right in the way of a
railroad that was built through the town a year
later; and then put up his hotel and settled
down as its owner, proprietor and manager.

He was a man of medium hight, wore a full,
heavy beard, was passably good-looking and al-
wa 3 well dressed.

e was not married, but Dame Rumor ex-
pressed it as her opinion that lie was soon likely
to be, judging from the marked attention he was
pa ing to pretty Lulu Lawrence.

his young lady, whom we shall presently in-
troduce, was the belle of the town, and the only
child of Judge Barton Lawrence, who owned a
valuable gold mine, the “Big lnjun,” not far
from town.

The judge, too, and several other characters,
will be introduced at the proper time and place

we proceed.

It was to the Colorado House that Rainbow
Rob—as did the Spot Saint, too—made his way
on leaving the Green Bottle Saloon.

There each of the strangers had engaged a
room, and the hour being late, as stated, they
soon retired.

The reader may suspect that these two men
coming to Silver Nugget on the same night an
entering the salomi so close together, were known
to each other. Such was not the case. They
had never met before.

About an hour after they had retired, the
house was closed for the night.

At that hour the proprietor was not in, and
the night clerk, first making sure that every-
thing was in order and all right, set the night-
latch for his employer and went to bed.

It was half an hour later still when Ivan Os-
wald let himself in, and he proceeded at once to
the ofilce, where he sat down.

He was strangely pale, and not a little nerv~

ous.

Presently he rose up, stepped out to the bar
and took a stron drink of brandy, and then re-
turned to the 0 cc and began to pace up and
down the floor.

In a few moments the door opened and the
night clerk looked in.

‘Oh! it is you,” he said. “ I heard you, and
thougthltll would come down and see who it was.
An‘yt ‘ g I can do?”

‘ No, nothing," was the brief answer he got;
“ good-night.”

‘Goodonight, sir," the clerk responded, and
he disappeared again.
' For some time Ivan Oswald continued his
walking, and then again he threw himself down
upm the chair.

“Curse it!” he muttered, “ I wish I could see
the end of this game. Sometimes I am tempted
to give it up and— No, no, I will not give it
up. It is too late _nqw to turn back and the
prise is almost Within my grasp. No, no; I
shall not turn back now.”

Again he was silent, and sat with his eyes
bent upon the floor.

The room was lighted by a single lamp on
the desk, which he ad lighted upon entering,
and the curtain at the one window of the office
was drawn down.

The office was a small room, between the bar-
room and main hall, and opened into both.

Presentl the proprietor got up once more,
and this t me be locked both doors and then
turned his attention to a safe under the desk.

Taking the lamp from the desk he placed it
upon a lower table, where its light fell upon the
front of the safe, and then 1 down pro-
ceeded to turn the combination ia

After a moment‘s work he arose from his task
and threw the door of the safe open.

Takin a bunch of keys from is pocket then,
he unloc ed an inner door and opened a com-
partment in which he kept his private papers,

, etc., and to which his clerks were not allowed

access.

From this compartment he brought forth a
small and strong ran-bound box.

This box he placed on the table near the lamp,
swung the doors of the safe shut, and then drew
the chair up to the table and sat down, taking
the box between his hands. .

It was as stated, an iron-bound box, but not
iron-bound in the ordinary w-iy, to add to its
strength. but to prevent its being opened. The
box itself was vf hard wood. with its corners
bound in brass, and the iron bands had been put

 

5

 

Rainbow Rob.

around it and riveted with hot rivets. Nothing I defitwd the Object Md significance 0f “30 "W08

short of a sharp file would ever remove them.

The keyhole of the box was sealed with wax, 

in which was stamped—
“A.D. 1830."

And upon the top of the box were carved these ;

words:

“ Woe be unto him who shall open this box before
the Second day of October, in the gear of our Lord
One Thousand Eight Hundred and ighty.

" Fawn": Howaan. '

For a long time Ivan Oswald stared at this
warning inscription in silence.

At last he muttered:

“ Five years this box has now been in my
possession, and I, coward that I am, have never
dared to learn the secret it Contains. I shall
hesitate no longer. For sixty lon years it has
shall remained closed no longer. The nearer the
second of October draws, the more im
am to learn what the box contains.
not put it of! another hour!”

He had eVidently made 11 his mind previously,
for from his coat ket e now too a paper
containing save of the best files he had been
able to procure.

Selecting one of these, be fitted it to a handle,

' and then set to work upon one of the iron bands,

to cut it off.

,wo

‘ fluence over me.

rds upon its lid. And I sincerely ho my deo
scendants may prove to be men honorab e enough
to keep the trust as sacredly as I, and my father be»
fore me, have kept it."

Ivan Oswald smiled as he read. .

“ Simple-hearted old man,” he remarked, “ his
precautions were of no avail. Of .course the

object and significance of the warning words'
are apparent. They are words intended. to
frighten any one who might venture to pry into
the secret. Ha, ha, ha! a good idea, my respect-
ed ancestor, but your words have no further in-
Now for the secret.”

Taking the casket out of the box, the young
man examined it. It was of solid silver, about
six inches square by four inches high. and had
an oval-shaped lid. On the top of the lid was a

‘ handle, and attached to the handle by a piece
been closed, according to the datelit bears, but it '

tient I .
o, I will ‘

At the end of half an hour’s almost constant I
work, he laid the file down and wiped the i th ghap

perspiration from his face.

One of the bands was severed.

Two more remained.

“ Curse the thing!" he muttered, as he threw
down the worn file and selected a fresh one, “ I
will open it now or die.

I have been a fool to ‘ up, staggered back a step, and f0

of fine wire was a small key. The keyhole of
the casket, like that of the outer box, was

over with wax, and like the seal of the box, too,
the seal of the casket bore a date. It was this:

“ Ocroaxn 2. 1780."

For nearly one hundred years the silver
casket had not been opened.

For a long time Ivan Oswald hesitated gain,
but at last, with a final resolve, he ick up

one of the files to break the seal and etach the

ke .
Eefore he could do so, a most remarkable

in ned.

A tall figure in white rose up before him, a
skeleton hand was pointed at him, and a hollow
voice said:

“ Open not the silver casket !”

With a gasp of terror the youn man s rung
fain ng to

hesitate so 10%, and all owing tothis inscription ' the floor. g
h

on the lid. at ill can come to me? Bah! it
is utter nonsense!” And turning the box around,
he began to file away at another of the bands.

Presently he stopped to rest.

“It is a strange affair—an almost Weird af-
fair,” he muttered.
think that the silver casket which this box is
said to contain has been locked and sealed for a
hundred years! It is almost incredible. Yet it
is undoubtedly true.
casket hold? What is the secret? By heavens!
I will know within an hour!”

Again he set to work with his file.

I

i,
l,
i

“It is like a romance. To .

And what does that silver 1

When he came to, the silver casket was gone.

 

CHAPTER VI.
uvs'rsnious IAN DATES.

WHEN Rainbow Rob awoke next morning it
was broad daylight, the sun was streaming in
at his window, and the busy little town was all
astir.

“ Hello!” he exclaimed, as he 3pm out of
bed: " l’d better be getting up, or s belate
for breakfast.”

He proceeded to dress at once, and while be

In due time another band was severed, and . was doing 80 the morning 80111 was sounded-

only one more remained.

“Sixty years bound," the young man half- '

exclaimed. as with feverish haste be inserted an-

other fresh flle, “ but it shall be opened at last!” i

With eager haste he set to work
hands trembling and the perspiration
from his face.

The work was ' ing to tell upon him, and
now his restinwe came more frequently.

“ M respec ancestor,” he communed, half-
facetiously during one of these periods, “ had you
any idea when you sealed this box u so almost
hermetically that I, your unworthy escendant,
would have the nerVe to disobey your warning
and open it before the pro r time? It seems to
me you had a mean suspicion of your famil , or

on would not have made these iron ban s so
infernal thick and hard. Well, here goes to
flmnislli” the third one, and thank Heaven it is the
st ‘

Again wiping the perspiration from his face.
he took up the file and resumed work upon the
third and last band.

He worked faithfully, too, and in due time the
third hand was severed.

“ There l” he muttered, “ done at last! and
now for the secret."

With impatient haste, his heart beating fast
and his hands trembling, he took hold of the
severed bands of iron and bent them back and
removed them and then he picked the wax seal
from over the keyhole.

This done, be next tried all‘the all keys he'

had, but none of them would fit the lock.

Determined not to be balked now, he took up
the t of the files and forced its sharp end
under he lid, and in a few moments the lid was
wrenched from its place and the silver casket
was ax to view.

And then did Ivan Oswald stagger back with
paling face.

There upon the lid of the silver casket, in let-
ters bold and black, was the following:

“Tnou Turroa!

“False to thy trust, thou hast dared to open the
box. Here stop. Attempt to Oprah the silver casket
at thy peril.”

Startling words, and little wonder the oung
man drew back and for a moment hesita to
disregard them.

After a moment, though, his courage re-
turned.

He had gone too far now to allow any idle or
so rstitious fears to turn him from his object.

hilc he hesitated his eye caught sight of a
folded paper] ing in the box beside the casket,
and drawing t out he read: .

"I. Frank‘in Howard. before turning the silver
casket over to the care of m son. have resolved to
inclose it in this box to en ance its safety in the
years to come. "in, r mains nn0p« ned until the

proper time, t 05‘: w‘ 0 on ii it then will readily un-

in, his ‘
PPIDS ‘

 

“This is a pretty decent otel,” the Tulip
mused. “ They’re bound to give a fellow his
money’s worth of rest, it seems.”

He was about ready to leave his room when
his eyes fell upon a large envelope, which had
evidently been thrust in under the door during
the night.

He picked it up, and much to his surprhe
found that it was addressed to himself.

“ ROBERT Ransox. Esq.”

That was the simple su rscription it bore.

Considerably puzzled, inbow Rob turned
back into the room and tore the envelope open.

It contained a small sheet of heavy paper, on
which was the following:

“ mo. THOU ART ONE. 18m.
“Roam Ransom thou art one of the present
eight living descendants of Ma. Barnes Lawns“,
w died October 2, 17m
moned to be present at the Colorado House. in the
town of Silver Nu t, on Saturday, October 2, mo,
‘adt tog: o‘clock in e forenoon, bringing proof of thy
en ty.
" Reflullber the Silver Gasket."

“ Whew l” the Tulip whistled; “ here is a
startler. Some one in this town knows who I
am, that is certain, and there must be some-
thing in that old silver casket story, after all. I
never took any stock in the sto , but now I
guess I had better hunt up those 0 d pet-smy

ather used to guard so carefully, an see what
this secret is.”

Putting the paper back into the cave] and
thrusti the latter into his pocket, boom his
room an went down-stairs.

Breakfast was ready, and be repaired at once
to the dining-room. .

2:5“ iltlfial‘ltildone eating when the waiter
on w a in, an inqmred' aloud-

:: r- Beverages...

am , promptly-

The waiter advanced a vs the telegram
into his hand. Ea

Tearing open the envelo at once, he read
the m and then finis ed his breakfast in
haste and e the room.

Gging towthteioffice he dhliisis bill, sent a ser-
van up s room or ' k. and as
soon as it was brought he startedgmfg'cwe
road station.

Silver Nugget—have we mentioned iti—was a
railroad town, and the station was on the north—
ern side of the town. J ust beyond the railroad
was a canyon—“ Dismal Canyon " it was tailed,
and bevond that were racks and trees in all
their pristine wildness, save here and there where
acabin was to be' seen. The railroad crossed
the canyon about half a mile below the sia
ran westward through the northern outskirts

a

the town, and then onlin a southwesterly diree- 1‘  f

. Thou art hereby sum- ,

., 5., m

 

 

 

 

 

 

. and well built.

 

 

_ the o
« handed

' ' alike.
 sent at once, though.”

,  shall have some minutes to

 

The main street of the-town bore the name 'of ;
the “ Old Trail," and on it, at the point where ‘I
it crossed the. railroad, the station was situated. i

The Old Trail, too, crossed Dismal Canyon, a
Wooden bridge spanning the canyon at its nar-
rowest part, and led away to the north, while in ;
the opposite direction it stretched out into the
hills to the south. .

When Rainbow Rob arrived at the station, he
stepped at once to the window of the telegraph
oflicc and inquired:

"‘ Was this telegram received here?" showing 1
the telegram he had got.

“ It was, sir,” was the reply of the operator.

“ I desire to send an answer. Please give me
a blank.”

“ Step just within the door, sir, and you will
find blanks, pen and ink, right at your hand.”

As he spoke the operator threw open the
door of his little office, and Rob stepped in.

There wasa little desk against the wall just
inside the door, and the articles the operator
had named were all there.

Rainbow Rob took up the pen and began to
write the telegram he desired to send in answer
to the one he had received, but he had not writ—
ten far when he stopped short and appeared to
be trying to recollect something.

For a moment he stood idle, and then laying
down the pen he drew some papers from his

cket and selected one he desired to consult,

_ying the others down upon the desk beside

him.

Aniong them, and lying on top, was the large

envelope containing the mysterious note we
“have seen; .

Finding what he wanted, he finished his writ;
ing, and then delivered the message to the oper-
ator for transmission.

“ How muchfi” Rob asked. 0

The operator named the charge, received the
money, and was about to turn away when his
eyes caught the big envelope with the name it

bore.

He 1paused and lonked more closely, and Rain—
bow ob looked at him.

The operator laid down the telegram and
money, opened a drawer near at hand, and
from it took an envelope 'exactly like the one
flab had found in his room.

/ “ These two envelopes are very much alike,”
'he remarked.
“ Yes. they are,” Bob agreed.
“And so is the wriitng upon them.”
’ “ It is certainly the same hand.” .
’ This was true, and the name on the envelope
in the operator’s possession was this:

“ ALVIN HOWE, ESQ. ”

“ There is something remarkable about this,”
the operator declared.
, “ Is this envelope addressed to you?”
“ Yes; that is my name.”
“ May I inquire how the letter came to you?”
“ I found it here under my office door this

ornihg.”

“ Indeed! And I found this one under the
door of my room at the hotel when I got up.”
For a moment both looked at each other and

m

_ fit the mysterious envelopes in silence.

Alvin Howe, the agent and operator, was a
youngiman, twenty-five or twenty—six years of
age. 9 was tall and dark, rather good-lookin ,
His hair and eyes were blac ,
and he sported a mustache of the same color.

. “It is possible,” said Rainbow Rob, presently,
he being the first to s , “that both of these
envelopes contaifl a Similar notice.”

“ It is very li cly that they do,” the operator

a
.“Does yours say anything about a silver

‘  casket?”

“ It does. It— Here, though, read it for
yourself.” v
As he spoke the o rater drew a small sheet of
heavy paper from t e envelope and handed it to

Rob took and read it.
It was exactly like the note he had received in

‘ ., every particular, emept, of course, the name of

the ,‘rson addressed.

“ sit like the note your envelope contains?”
rator asked. -
“ t is in every respect,” Rob replied, and he
to Howe to read. ‘
“Yes” the latter agreed, “they are both
—- Perhaps you desire your message

" Well. yes, as soon as you can, please. We

I ,will speak of this matter afterward. By the

ay,‘th?o,ugh, how soon can I get a train for
unvei-
“ One will leave here in about ten minutes.”
“ All right; send the telegram, and then we
spare.”

The operator seated himself at his instru-
ments, and for a few minutes was busin on-

hen he was done he returned to the desk,

: '_ where Rainbow. Rob was standing.

“ You do your telegraphin in cipher,” he re-

] marked, “ and I had to send t 0 message slow.”

“ About these mysterious notices,” said Rob,

Rainbow Rob.

_. 'ww'vr' -‘ *
Ira

 

“ lfever,” the operator answered. “ Have
?1

“ Yes. I remember in father used to speak
about it frequently, an he often expressed the

‘ wish that he might live to see the mystery out.

He died several years a , however. He had

1 some old papers connecte with the affair, which

he used to guard jealously, and at his death he
delivered them to me, telling me to preserve
them. I must get them and learn what I can
from them.”

“ My parents died when I was but a child,”

1 said Hoiw, “ and none of their possessions ever
‘ came to me.

if there were any such papers in
my branch of the family, they are lost now, and
I never saw them.”

“ One thing seems plain.” pursued Rob. “and
that is, that we are related to each other.”

“ Yes. that is true.”

“ And another fact self-evident is, that there
is some pf‘l‘SO'i watching over the eight living de-
scendants of Mr. Barton Lawrence.”

“ True again.” '

' “ And of those eight we are two.
the other six?”

“ Ah, the mystery is too deep for me. I give
it u .

“ t seems to me,” Rainbow Rob went on,
“that I heard mentio last night of a Judge
Barton Lawrence. Is t ere such a person here-
abouts?”

“ By heavens! I thought that ‘ Barton Law-
rence had a familiar sound. Yes, there is such
a man here. He is Judge Lawrence, mayor of
the town and owner of the ‘ Big Injun’ Mine.
Can it be that he has a hand in the game?”

“ It is impossible to tell,” Rob answered, “ but
if I make his acquaintance when I return from
Denver, I certainly shall ask him.”

“ And, what is this ‘ silver casket?’ What is
its secret? Where is it kept?”

“ Your questions floor me. No doubt. though,
the person who wrote and delivered these no-

Who are

- tices to us has it in keeping.”

. Have you any suspicion what the secret
lS .

“At present I have not. The silver casket,
though, I believe was locked and sealed on the
day of Barton fawrence’s death, and was not
to be opened until just one hundred years
later.” '

“Great Scott! that is a secret with aven-
geance.”

“It is indeed, and— Hello! here comes the
train. I expect to return here this afternoon,
and will see you again.”

“ All right! Shall be glad to see you.”

The agent was busy selling tickets, etc., even
while he was talkin , and now that the train
was ap roaching, he ad to give his whole atten-
tion to is duties.

Rainbow Rob left the office at once, and in a.
few moments more was aboard the train and
speeding toward Denver.

After a time he thought again of the mys-
terious‘notice he had received, and put his hand
to his pocket to draw out the envelope when to
his surprise he found two envelopes nstead of
one, not only his own, but also the one ad-
dressed to Alvin Howe.

CHAPTER VII.
Miss TRYPHENA MARKS.

THE Spot Saint from Scarecrow, when 8. ply-
ing for a room at the Colorado House, had ound
his a earance decidedly against him.

At rst he was flatly refused.

On second look. however, the clerk found that
ragged as the old man certainly was, he had
every appearance of cleanliness, and finally
gave him a cheap room on the top floor. I \

When the Spot Saint arose next morning be
dressed and washed, first mendin his ragfid
coat a little here and there, and t on with ‘s
old-fashioned carpetbag in hand he. went down
to breakfast.

 

This carpet-bag was the only bagga he had,
and it did not appear to contain muc . I
After enga ing his room on the revmus

night, he had eft this carpet-bag with he clerk
while he went out for a little while.

“Take good care of it, my dear friend,” he
had enjoined, “it contains tracts.”

On this morning, though he did not trouble
the clerk again, but actually carried the bag
with him into the dining—room and laced it be-
tween his feet while he ate his brea fast.

After breakfast he set out to begin the good
work he had undertaken.

Here, he reasoned, was a town of certainly
not less than five thousand inhabitants, and in
order to do his work thoroughly and accom-
plish what he desired, he must, or ought to,
visit every house.

This be resolved to do.

He began at the extreme eastern side of the
town and set out to work toward the western
side, making a call at ovory house. .

Calling at a house. his first uestlon was as to
who lived- there. Being tol , he gave out a
tract or th, urged the people to repent, and
then passed on to the next.

Finally. in the course of the forenoon, he

 

‘mver the operator’s remark with a mere

‘ v o rheardfthi casketiMarks. .- -
, r? ey ueve o ssilver , Miss  Marks was

i

called at the humble residence of one Tryphena

a maiden lady
I ' .

   
 
 

if

 

aged forty or thereabouts, and was just six feet:
and two inches in hight, and proportioned ac‘
cordingly. She lived alone, and supported hero‘
sell by keeping a small shop where she sold
various small articles of various kinds, and also
patent medicines.

She was not bad-looking at all, but in size she
was perfectly Amazonian.

Miss Mal-ks was, as stated. a single lady, but
that was no fault of hers. It was well known
that she \Vfl.“ wiiling, even anxious to marry,
but she ('(lulll llll'l no one to accept her.

Her size was th - great stumblin -block in her
way to mzitriziioiiinl happiness 0 man could
she find who was willing to take upon himself so
great a responsibility.

Many and man a time had Tryphena en-
deavored to catch a husband. She had had
many “ nibbles ” at her book. and had had some
fair ites; but so far she had never been able to
land a single is )ecimen.

At first she ad been decidedly particular and
fastidious in her choice. A few years later she
was not so hard to please. And now, at the
time of our story, her only conditions were that
the favored one must be of her own color, and
honest. What she wanted was—a man.

Upon this lady, as stated, the Spot Saint
called.

Keeping a little shop, as she did, she had no
chance to refuse him admittance, if she had de-
sired to do so at first sight, for he was in her
little shop and seated before she was hardly
aware of is presence.

He had been seated but a moment when she
strode into the shop from a room at one side. ,

“What do you want, sir?” she demanded,
business-like. .

“ Madam,” answered the Spot Saint, as he
looked up, “ ma I inquire who lives here?”

“ I do,” was t e brief reply. “ What do you
want?

The Spot Saint (fumed his carpet-bag and took
out a few tracts, at the same time continuing:

“And may I ask your name?" i

“What do you want to know my name for?”
the woman demanded.

“ Believe me,” returned the Saint, “ I do not
ask out of idle curiosity. I have a mission to
perform. 1—”

“ What is your name?” i

“ My name, madam, is Hannibal Lon .”

“ W ell, mine is Tryphena Marks. ow state
your bus—” .

At the mention of the name “Marks.” the
Saint had glanced up quickly and evidently with
interest, and the glance he gave the woman from
his keen little eyes caused her to stop short in
what she was saying and stare at him.

“ Marks?” repeated the Saint; “surely that
name is most familiar. I once had a friend
named Marks, and I must say that our features
resemble his to a certain degree. at, I—”

“ Who was the Marks you knew?” the “little
maid ” inquired.

“ His name was John Marks.”

“ Why, that was my poor father’s name. Can
it be—”

“ It surely must be,” cried the Saint. “ But
we can prove it. Was your grandfather’s name
Elijah Marks?”

‘ Yes, that was his name, sir.”

“ Then you are indeed the child of my old\
friend John Marks "cried the Saint s rin 'n

‘2 , i 9 p 31 3
up. Will you 9.1 ow me to shake your hand?
B ess'mel how you have grown! I— ’

“ Sir! were you twice my dead father’s friend
I would not allow you to ridicule my misfor-
tune! I—-”

“  dear madam,” cried the Spot Saint,
contri ,ly. “ pardon me. If I have said an ht
to hurt your feelings, I am very sorry. W at
the misfprtune to w ich you allude is, I cannot
1m ne.

“ cannot believe you, sir. Surely on can
see that I am abnormally large, that am a
perfect monstrosity.”

“ I see nothing of the kind!” the Saint cried.
“You are tall,'it is true, but you are so well
proportioned thatit is scarcely noticeable, On
the contrary, your appearance is queenly, your
presence is majestic. I—— No, no, I do not flat-
ter; I mean what I say. Your ideas about your
up rance are all wrong.” _

ryphena Marks had never been so compli- '
mented in all her life. A warm flush mounted

to her cheeks. and she dropped gracefullxupon i .

a chair and invited the So at to sit down again.

' Then you reallly mean it?” she inquired.

“ I do, madam, do.”

“ But, your business? What was the object
of your call?” '

‘ Ah!” the Saint ejaculated, “ on call me
back to my life work. I have a m ssion to per-
form. I have come to save sinners. I am mak-
ing a call at each house to leave a few tracts.
May I leave one or two with you? Not that I
Wish to insinuate that you need them, madam,
but none of us are perfect, and to read them
Will do you n harm.”

“I will ta 9 them, certainly, and the more
willingly since you are a friend of my poor
fathe'gs.” -

“A ! es, your father' he was a flue man.
And he 1% dead, eh i” '

6‘ Yes.”

 

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x when my mot

“ When did he die?”

“ About ten years ago.”

“ Too bad. John was a fine man._ And your
grandfather died—let me see, was it in ’Forty-

ve

“ Yes, that was the year.”

“ You do not remember him, of course.”

“No, but I have often heard him spoken of,
and have a likeness of him.”

“ No, there can be no mistake. You are cer-
tainly the daughter of my old friend John. And
your mother?”

“ She is dead.”

“ And your sisters—brothers—have you
any!”

“ No, I have none.” _

“ Surely, though, you have. some relatives
livin i"

“ ot to my knowledge." ,

“ Indeed.”

“I may have some, but I do not know that
I have. I certainly have no near relatives.”

“ No doubt on could find a host of them, if
you had a fo une to bequeath."

“ Very likely I could find some.”

“ I suppose you are little interested in the
matter, however.

“ Very little, indeed, sir."

“ Few people are, though I have known some
who kept a family rev-onl extending as far up
the family tree as they could trace. Nor is it a
had him, for who can tell what may come of
such a record as a proof of identity?”

“ My mother was one of that sort, sir.”

“ W as she?"

“ch. She had an accurate record that dated
back mugg years.”

“ IndL 1’

“Yes, and I have the record now.
a curiosxt .”

“ How ar back does it date?"

“ It must be nearly a hundred years now.”

“ Then it certainly must be a curiosity. If I
were (you I should guard it carefully. Such a
recor once lost can never be replaced."

“ Oh! I fully intend to do so, sir. In fact,

er was dying she urged me to
promise to kee the record on as she had kept it,
and l promised?”

“Perhaps she had some object in making that
request.”

“ I believe she had.”

“ W b y so!”

“Because she started to tell me something,
some secret I have always believed, but her
strength failed her before she could tell me what
she wanted to, and she died.”

“All the more reason then, I think, why you
should reserve the record.”

“ So think, sir.”

“ You have never married, I believe?”

“ N—no, sir, I have never married.”

The Spot Saint addressed Miss Marks in a
fatherly way, though he was certainly not old
enough to be her father, and his deep voice and
honest manner won her confidence.

He now smiled.

“ Your tone of reply,” he remarked, “leads
me to guess that you may be married ere long.
Have guessed aright?”

It was a tender question--te Tryphena it was a
vital question. almost.

“ I—I cannot say that you have.” she replied.
“ I am not engaged, though 1—”

She sto ped.

“ Ah! see, I see,” the Spot Saint exclaimed,
with a. laugh, " young ladies are the same
the world over, now and forever. You are
in love. Ha, ha. ha! I can see it. But, do not
think I laugh at that; I laugh because on can-
not hide the secret. Young ladies are I: sing
forever.”

Trvphena llushed like a rose.

“ on certainly do not call me young, do
you?” she demanded, playfully.

“ Why not?” queried the Saint. “ You are
certainly not so very, very old, and you do not
look a day over twenty-eight.”

“Oh! you old flatterer' I have a mind to
order you out of my store!” still playfully.

“ Pray do not,” the old man r. nested, “ for
I am goin now at once. I trust have given
no offense, ’ still smiling.

“ None whatever,” was the reply.

A few words more. were exnhanged, and then
the Spot Saint took his departure, the lady in-
viting him to call again, which he promised to

It is quite

o.

“ Poor old man!” Tryphena thought, as she

watched him walk away “ he must be very
001'. Since he was my father’s friend, however,
e is welcome to my home.”

And the Saint. as he paused at the next house
or two to leave his tracts no longer inquired
who lived there, but seemed to take less interest
in his “ mission.” Was he more than he seemed?
Had he found some one for whom he had been in

‘ search? Be. that as it may, he never carried out

'his first idea. of calling personally at every house
in the town. .

CHAPTER VIII.
A BACKWABD yawn.
Miss Terran!“ MARKS was indeed in love,
and the object of her affections was one Eleazer
Brown.

\

.1. 
la- . ‘ . . I

. added.

 

.1 it "15‘, ' , . ‘5 "
‘ H. 1v; " V ‘ A
‘- A' "‘ ma . r.' . 1 ~»‘ l’“,

Rainbow Rob.

Mr. Eleazer Brown was a gentleman about
Tryphcna’s own age, but not by any means her
equal in size. He stood but four feet nine in his

cots.

And the love the maiden had for him was
genuine and sincere. It was more. It was de-
termined. She had made up her mind that
Eleazer Brown should be hers.” '

Eleazer, on the other hand, was equally de-
termined that he would not be.

The first time Eleazer saw Tryphena he did
not see all of her. He saw only her face.

As we have said, she was not by any means
bad-looking.

Eleazer happened to be passinOr her shop one s
‘ 3 around to see Tryphena’s smiling face. But she .

day, when she was seated in a ow chair near
the window. and he saw her. He smiled, and
Tryphena allowed herself to smile in return.

At this time Mr. Brown had not been long in
town, anl had heard little or nothing about
Tr phena and her desire to find a husband.

Igvery day after that, the day of their first

exchange of smiles, Eleazer passed through that .

street on his way to and from the mine where he
was employed, the “Big Injun,” and every day
Tryphena was seated at the window to receive
his smile.

After a time some of the “ boys” at the mine
“caught onto” Eleazer’s little game, and they
resolved to help him on in every possible way.

One day at noon when they were all seated
around the big crusher, eating their dinners, the
conversation was purposely

which the town could boast.

“ I tell ye what it am, boyees,” said one old
fellow, who was taking a hand in the game of
urging Eleazer on to make a conquest, “ there
hain’t no purtier gal in this heur town nor Jedge
Lawrence’s little darter.”

“ Where’s Claudia Madison, th’ darter of th’ V

old pastmaster?” demanded another. “‘She’s
most as nurty as Miss Lawrence, I allow.”
“ Yas, she’s a right purty girl,” admitted the
first speaker, “but not quite so purty as Miss
Lulu. She’s a daisy fur looks.”
Several other girls and women of the place

were mentioned and passed upon, and then an- ‘

other of the roup put in:

“Talkin’ an out yer cod-lockers, whar’s the
leetle gal that keeps t ’ store down Canyon
street?’

When this came out, covert glances Were cast
at Eleazer.

His face flushed a little, and he waited eagerly
to hear the verdict.

“Wal,” said the old first speaker, “ she’sa
mighty fine-lookin’ gal I allow. I don‘t know
but she’s"most as well heeled fer looks as th’
leetle post—office beauty.

' “She ain’t slow, fer a fact,” some one else
chimed in. “She wasn’t out o’ sight when
beaut was handed ’round, you bet!"

“ ou’re ri ht she wasn’t,” some one else
“In act, I’ll bet she wasn’t a great
man seats back from th’ front row.”

“ ver seen her. pardner?” asked the man
who sat nearest to Eleazer.

“Y—yes,” Eleazer faltered, “I—I believeI
have.”

“ What’s your opine'l”

“Why, I think she’s a party good—locker, an’
no mistake.”

“ It’s a wonder ter me,” the old first speaker
declared, “that some 0’ you oung bucks don’t
shine up an’ marr her. here she lives, all

alone, an’ she’d ma e jest ez fine a little wife as 2

kin be found.” ,

The word “little,” it will be seen, was fre-
quently used.

“How’s a feller ter. git at her, though?”

ueried one young 12m w 0 had in
fienwr’e place once, nd knew where thebest
stroke was to be laid.

‘f That’s a purty question fer a oung feller
like you fer ask,” cried the 01 man in a
tone of disgust. “Hain’t ye got no sand!
Why, if 1 was one of ye I’ll tell ye how
I’d do it. I’d mana I to fgas: by that
way once in a while, til ‘I’d ca h her eye, an’
then I’d sling herasmile. Then if she smiled
bar-k, I‘d keep it up fer awhile, goin’ by every
(la y. Then arter a lime I’d spruce u some fine
cvcnin’, nn’stcp inter her 5 op an buy some
let‘tlenotion. (111‘ at th’ same time try ter git
inter l er cod graces by openin’ a leetle conver-
sation. . ight mention th’ weather, ter lead of!
with, then foller up with yer king an’ queen, so
ter say, holdin’ th’ bowors back as a sort 0’
s’priswparty, un‘-——"

“Hold on, old man,” some one interrupted:

“this isn’t a game 0’ keurds we’re talkin’.

about."
“ I know it ain’t, rds; but I was a-talkin’
flggerative. If a fe e’r has boss sense, he’ll

drop in on th’ gal with abandful o’ trumps,
an’ he’ll make sure 0’ th’ game—if he km!
See?” ,
Many a sly glance was directed at the unsus-
cting Eleazer while this conversation was g0-
ing on, and all saw that he was taking it all in

rly. _
5 great many things were sai in Miss Marks’s
favor, and at last Eleazer felt that the one thing

necessarytomake hishap inessinlifecom lete
wastowinTryphenaMar sforhiswife. p

\

turned upon the :
subject of the wealth of feminine beauty of '

 

.7

He resolved to do it.
That evening when he. went home from work,

he glanced in at the window of the little shop, »

as usual, and there the face of his fair one beam-
ed upon him.
This time he went a little further in the mat-
ter and lifted his hat.
Tryphena bowed. and the lover’s happiness
was almost complete.
After supper that evening Eleazer put on his
best attire, lacked his boots, went to a barber
! he sometimes patr nized and had his hair oiled
and combed, and en called around to see the
; ob'ect of his heart’s desire.
ntering the shop half-timidly, he looked

; was not there.
i In a moment, though, she entered from the
’ a/l 'oining room.
f leazer looked up at her in profound surprise.
; Could this be she—the little in of whom he
i had heard so much praise, and w ose pretty face
' he had seen so often at the window as he passed?
9 He could not believe it. No, assured
’ this was an older face than hers; it must
1 mother.
1 Tryphena, though, recognized her lover at
i once, and smiled her sweetest.
. That smile did not look as it had looked
i through the window.
i “Is—is your darter in, ma’m?” the bashful
i lover asked.

“ My daughter i” the fair maid exclaimed, “ I
’ have no daughter, sir.”
I “ [—1 mean th’ young lady who—who bows
! to me sometimes when I pass.”
i “ Why, that’s me!”
I
|
i

not ;
her

“ You i“ ”

‘t Yes.”

“ But, I—I thought on were little. I didn’t

know you was a six- ooter. Th’ boys all said
; you was a little gal." -
i “The bo s, eh? Their idle tongues are alwa s
', running. t is true that I am a little tall, .
i Brown—that is our name, I believe; but I can-
not help thar. ill you not step into my sit-
ting-room and sit down?”

“ No—no, I—I guess not." Eleazer stam-
mered, “I won’t have time. I jest kem in to
, buy a—a—”

“ To buy what?” ‘

“ A—a box of pills, I guess; or was it apapero
collar?”

“ Eleazer Brown, that ain’t no such a thing!”
I Tryphena exclaimed. “ You came here a-pur-
; pose to see me. Now don’t try to back out and
I, say you didn’t, for I know you did. You’ve
been flirting with me for some time, and I’ve
, encouraged von, too, because—because I like
1 you; an at last you’ve come in to make m ac-

uaintancc. Now, I know that you are a ittle
s ort, Mr. Brown, and that I am a little tall,
but you need not let that trouble you. I sup-
pose you think that I would scorn you on that
account, but that is not so. I am not so sensi-
tive. So pray give yourself no uneasiness on
my account. Wait, Mr. Brown, wait: do not
be in such a hasteg” (Eleazer was backin to-
ward the door) - “ I hope you will come in or a
little while. I ave so few visitors, and—”

“ N-—no,” Eleazer interrupted, “ I think I’ll
go. ,I only stepped in ter buy a—a paper 0’
pins.

“ Now you’re telling just what isn’t so, and

on know you are. I know you like me,
leazer. because I’ve seen it in your face. The
only trouble is, you’re so sensitive because you’re
a little shorter than I am. A I don’t see wh you
need be, I’m sure; I don’t mind it in the
Now #ion’t you come in for a little while! I
am— ‘

 

 

onl wanted to buy a sheet 0’ paper and—” .
“yVe well. then, but remembér this: you
began

tin‘iiid ’to make love, I’ll do it. This is leap-year,
an — ’
But Eleazer Brown was gone.

from hena. -

It was a r ular old—time, musk-scented, gen
ine orthodox eve-letter. It was pasted all over
with little forget-me-nots, was fu l of endearing
words, and was fairly bubbling OVer with gushes
of love. And it ended thus:

" he rose is red. the violet blue;
Love is sweet and so are you.
“Tavrmnu MARKS."

 

bein forty at least, and there was no reason
whyfiie should not marr
 was an honest simple carted, hard-world

5 man, and had ryphena Marks been nearer h

i own size, there is no doubt that he would have
~ been only too anxious to marry her.

 

feet nine, he stood appalled. ‘

; the more he drew away.

: He seemed to live in actual fear of her. Had ‘- V, 5

she menaced his liberty—well, perhaps she did
have some desi
i hadz—but had 3 9 been seeking his very life. he
I could not have been more careful to keep auto!
horny. ‘

“N—no, I can’t: I’m in an awful hurry;I 

flirt first, and I’m not the woman to ‘ "
have my affections trifled with. If you are too .

Next evening at the post-office he got a letter 

Now Eleazer Brown was of marriageable age,  , .

if he wanted to. He ~ -

But as it ' ‘ '
was, she standing six feet two,and be but four.

The more 'l‘ryphena tried to draw him toher, ' -

8 against that—no doubt she. ..

i .

,.-T'

 

 

.~  \an'.x'

m “n W ,‘l, u. ., _ Jet . . .._. -:-» ,.,.-._v I . man“... .. .. ... - v -- »

Rainbow Rob.

 

 

 

And the more he kept out of her sight the
more persistent she was in following him up,
until now at the time of our story, the case was
growing ecidediy interesting.

Poor Eleazer was the object of much fun for
the he s at the mine, and often he was the ob-
ject 0 some practical joke in which the name
of Tryphena was used.

On the day of which our last preceding chap-
ter treats, the superintendent o the mine sent
Eleazer on a fictitious errand down to Canyon
street, where he needs must ,pass Tryphena’s.
shop. And barely had the Spot Saint passed,
out of sight when Eleazer appeared, skulking '
along on the opposite side of the stroet. i

phena soon sighted him, and in a moment ‘
she was at the door, exclaiming:

“Mr. Brown! Mr. Brown! won‘t you please
81*er over here a minute?”

leazer heard, but he heeded not. Tryphena
called again, a then started across the street.
Eleazer saw he , and With a gasp of “ Oh
Lord!” took to his heels and ran.

CHAPTER IX.

SOME OLD DOCUMENTS.
MOST of the principal characters of our ro—
» mance have now been introduced.
" ' There are, bewever, some others whose per-
. . soaal acquaintance we must make.
f' One of these was Judge Barton Lawrence.
' He wasa gentleman about forty years of a e,
. and owned, as previously stated, a valua le
5 gold mine a short distance from town.

' The “ Big Injun,” as the mine was called. had
‘ been the means of 'ving the town its start, and
it was still paying ig returns for the working.

The judge was rich, and was one of the lead-
in citizens of the county.
ills house was one of the finest the town could
boast of, and was situated on one of the prettiest
‘ streets. It was presided over by the judge’s
3 pretty and accomplished daughter, Miss Lulu,
." who was his only child.

 

i

— r‘ .I-ak’ 9“ 4.. .. i A», .5

On this morning we find Judge Lawrence '

facing to and fro in his libra , an open letter

11 his hand, while on the floor ies a large enve-
10 from which the letter has just been taken.

 1 he letter itself consisted of a small sheet of

 heavy paper, on which was the following:

' H 1780. THOU ART ONE. 1880."

“ BARTON LAWRENCE. thou :‘rt one of the present
oi ht living descendants of Mn. BARTON LAWRENCI,
who died October 2, 1780. Thou arr. hereby sum-
moned tobe present at the Colorado House, in the
town of Silver Nu at, on Sa'urday. October 2, 1880,
at ten o‘clock in t e forenoon, bringing proof of thy
, , identiv y.

 v “ Remember the Silver Casket.”
After pacing up and down the room for some
, time, Judge Lawrence read the mysterious note
‘ a in.
gTo him it was a mystery.

The letter had just been handed to him b a
servant, who reported that she had foun it
when it had been slipped in under the front door
during the night.

Presently t are came a knock at the door, and
a caller was announced.

This proved to be the postmaster of the town,
one Henry Madison.

“ Good-morning Henry,” the judge greeted
him, “ how do you do?” ‘

“ Good-morning, judge,” the postmaster re—
turned, adding: “ am fairly well, I thank
‘ ' how are you?”

x “ ite well. This an early visit from you.
An hin I can do for you?"

‘ Yesfi. am around rather early, but I could
not ut it off. I want to ask you what you
 of this."

1- i ' As he spoke, Henry Madison drew from his
 ket a] e envelope precisely like the one

 . 2:0“ lay on t 9 floor, and like the ones we have
seen Rainbow Rob and Alvin Howe received.

“ ,” the judge exclaimed, “ I \have just
receive! an envelope like that; can it be that
the contents of the two are the same?”

“ You shall soon know,” Mr. Madison replied,
wand from his envelope he drew a small sheet

similar to the one the judge held in his hand.

The two were exactly alike, exce t in the
“matter of the name to w om addr .

“It is the very same!" the judge cried, as he
read it. “ Where did you get it?’

“ I found it in the post-box this morning.”

“ Indeed!” .

“Yes. And where did you get yours?" I

“It was put in under the front door during
the night.”

“ Strange very. ” .

, . ' “It certainly is a stran e aflair. But, why

" do you come to me about i i”

“ Can’t you see?”

“ Because the name mentioned in it is my
name—or like it?”

“ Exactly.”

i “Well, and what do you want me to do?”

“ I ,want you to do nothing. I have come to
talk with you about the case. That is all.
What do you know about this affair of the sil-
Yer casket?”

“ Do you know anything about it?”

“ A little, yes.”

“ Then perhaps we both possess the informa-

 

  
  

i The two sat down and Judge Lawrence rp-
; sumed:

'r “ When my father died, in 1850, he gave me
I some old papers, telling me to preserve them
! carefully and to add to them whatever was
3 necessary to complete the record of the family.
' And his last words were, ‘ Some day they may
. be of value to you, for you may live to be pres-
ent at the opening of the silver casket.’ "

"Mystery of mysteries!” exclaimed the old
postmaster. “ father’s dying request was so
nearly, the same that your story will answer for
mine.

“ Indeed! and you have some old family
records too?”

“ I have.”

“ How far back do they date?”

“ To the year Ha)?”

“ And they refer to—”

“ To one Barton Lawrence.”

“Then you and I must be related to each
other, James.”

“ So it would seem.”

“ Have you those old papers with you?”

“ I have.”

“ Good! we will compare them with the papers
I have.” .

Judge Lawrence rose and went to a small" safe
in one corner of the room, and from it took a
packet of papers.

These he brought and laid upon the table, in-
vitin the old postmaster to draw up his chair.

“ ere,” the judge said, taking u a parch-
ment letter, “is a letter in the ban writi of
the original Barton Lawrence. It is do at
New York, September 15, 1780.”

“ I believe I have a copy of it,” the old' post-
master remarked, looking his own papers over.
“ Yes, here it is.”

“Is it possible? Well, follow me, and I will
read this one aloud. It runs as follows:

“ Nsw Yoax, Sept. 15, 178).
“ To in Campus:-

“I. your father, believing that I am nearing my
end, have made my last and final will. What on
will receive, between you. is only one quarter 0 all

ossess. Had you, Barton, been as u right and
no is as your sistvr, i would have dividec my whole
fortune between you equally; but as it is, t e good
must suffer for ihe wrong-doing of the evil. But,
the sum I leave to each of on is a fortune in itself.
The remainder of my we th I shall leave to your
osterli , to be divided equally among them all, on
{he one undre 11h annivemmg or the day of my (faith.

"The secret or this wealt is inoiosed inasilver
casket, which is in the keeping of one who will guard
it with his life, and who, during his lifetime, will
kee trace of your chiljren. At his death, his son,
if i vlng, will take upon himself the trust and task.
If the son is not living, then he to whom I have given
the silver casket in keeping will choose some other

rson whom he can trust. And this trust will be

anded down from father to son.

“It will be useless for you. my children to strive
to gain possession of this silver casket. ’l‘herefor
try not to obtain it for yourselves, but keep, each 0
you, a record of your family that may be handed
down from generation to generation, in every branch,
so that when the one hundredth anniversary of the
day of my death shall come. each heir may have no
trouble in proving him—or herself—my direct de-
scendant.

“To you, my children, and to you my grandchil-
dren, and to you m great-grandchil iren, do I ex-
tend this request. nd you, my great- rent-grand-

children, whoever you ma be, will, 1 our fore-
fathers carry out my direct one, rea the neflts of
my bequest to you. To you I say: t your ho

in the secret of the silver casket. You, and may ap
your fathers. on the one hundredth anniversary of
the da of my death, shall see the silver casket
opens :‘for be e mindful that he who holds it in
keeping, kee a mood of my descendants, and
not one sh be overlooked. And it shall be my
prayer to Providence so to order your destinies that
when the day arrives you shall all be found in one
country, and near to one another.
“Bu-ran LAwnlNcn."

While the judge was readin , the old post-
master followed him as direcde

“ My paper is the same,” he declared. “ It is
a correct copy.”

“Which is proof that we are both descend-
ants of old Barton Lawrence, the original.”

“Yes, that is plain.”

“ And do your papers show from which branch
of the family you come?”

“The dc.”

“ An which do you claim l”

“ I trace my ancestry back to Ann Lawrence
the daughter of old Barton, who in 1781, married
one Henry Madison. “ You, of course, are de-
scended from the scapegrace son.”

“ Yes; he was my grandfather."

“ Your grandfather?”

H Y“. 1‘

“How can that be? Ann Lawrence was my

rout—grandmother ,"’ striking the tips of his
first-fingers together and em asizing his words.

“ I suppose your branch 0 the family has one
more generation than mine. ”

“ That must be it, but still I am as old as you
are, if not older.”

“ Well,” said the judge, “let us examine the
records and learn. Here, now, is the date of
my own birth, 1830. Here is my father; born
in 1790 and died 1850. Here is my grandfather;
born in 1750 and divd in 1815. And here is the
original Barton, who died in 1780. His birth is

 

.tion. Come, sit downgand we will talk it over.”

 

not given. He was my great-grandfather.”

 

 

“ And my great~great-grandfather.
you are a nearer heir than I.”

“ Yes, if you are not mistaken.
the records. Here is your own birth set down
for 1828. Here is our father, Paul Madison,
born in 1804 and led in 1845. Here is your
grandfather, William Madison, born in 1782
and died in 1815. Here is our rent-grand-
mother, Ann Lawrence Madison;
and died in 1810. And then comes the original,
who certainly is your great—great—grandfather.
It seems a little strange at first glance, but here
it is as Iain as can be.”

“ An our own children—”

“ The are pretty far down the line.”
to: All there are other branches of the family,

“ Yes several; but we have no record of
them. Barton and Ann had each several chil-
dren; whose names and dates of birth are given
here, but that is all we know about them. ”

“ But this notice we have just received states
that the number of heirs now living is eight.”

“ True enough.”

“ And does that include our daughters?"

“ Well, now on have me. Let me think. I
——yes, yes, deci edly. The old letter says dis-
tinctly that the remainder of the wealth is to be
divided equally among'all the livin heirs.”

“ So it does! Well, then, we an our daugh-
ters are four of the mentioned eight. Who are
the other four?”

“ We can only wait and learn.”

“ Of course you intend to obey the summons
to be iresent at the Colorado House on the day
nam l”

“Certainly. And you ?”

“ I shall be there if I am alive.”

At that moment the judge's pretty daughter
burst into the room.

 

CHAPTER. X.
wnA'r AN nAfizsnaoma HEARD.

LULU LAWRENCE was a (pretty black-eyed
girl], twenty years of age, an her fond father’s
l o .

She was the acknowledged belle of Silver
NWget.

hen she burst into her father’s presence so
abruptly, as mentioned, she had expected to find
him alone; and she paused as abruptly, with the
exclamation:

“ Oh! pardon my intrusion father: I thou ht
I should find you alone. Good-morning, r.
Madison.” ,

Good-morning,’ the postmaster responded'
and then the girl'was about to retire, when her2
father said:

“ Hold on, Lulu; did you want to see me?”

“ Yes, but I can. wait.

“What is that you have in your hand!”

It was a large envelope.

“ It is a mysterious note I have just received,
and it is that Ii wanted to see you about. It is.
something I do not understand.”

“ What is it?” with a glance at Mr. Madison.
1 ‘f Here, look at it; I really don’t know what
1 is.

Judge Lawrence took the envelope from his
daughter’s hand, saw that it bore her name, and
took out the sheet it contained. ~.

It was'the same summons he and Mr. Madison
had received. and the same that we have seen
received b Rainbow Rob and Alvin Howe. It
was the fl th thus far, to our knowledge.

“What does it mean?” Lulu asked, when her
father had read it.

_“ It means just what it says,” the judge re-

lied. “It means that tyeou must be present at

9 Colorado House, at .n o’clock in the fore-
noon on the second day of October.”

“Yes, of course; I can see that; but what am}
I to be there for?”

“ To be present at the opening of the silver
casket.”

“ And what is the silver casket?”

The judge explained the case at length, and
his daughter stood and gazed at him like a child
“8502!! (11:0 a fairing—fink. i r,

n 0 you 'eve t she demon

“ I do,” her father assured. dad.

“ And do you, Mr. Madison 1”

“ Certainly. It is ,proven to us. Why these
mysterious notices, if there is nothing in it?”

‘ Sure enough. And—chi I can never wait
fgr the. day to cvgriiie,t I know I can’t. I shall die
0 curiosi a astran etc i is ’

“Itisin eedi” go 17 t P

‘: Aqudnnobody knows what is in the casket?”

6 o. .

“ Nor where it is?”
“ X0; except him who has it in keeping.”

‘ “ nd you, Mr. Madison, you are our relao‘
tivel”

“ Yes. so it up ..”

“ And Claudifieagd I degree
“038%er are some of
es suppose so.”

“ Ohi' but isn’t it strange!
see Claudia at once.”
“wily. ill ends

t w almost turn their sill h "
postgasteg rfimarked. n y ’ the

‘ os,i t eyaresi yeno htoletitdo "
the judge agreed. And thong: added: a,

I shall u and
And she mugged; in-

It seems

Let me see'

rn in 1755 ~

 

we ..

 

 

 

S
i
i

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rainbow Rob.

9

 

 

“ Say, Henry, how is it you have never men-
tioned this aflair to me!”

“ Not mentioned it to you? I?”

“ Yes, exactly.”

“ Why, how could I?”

“Did not the name of Barton Lawrence in
the 01;}, letter remind you that my name is the
sane

" Not until this very morning. You see I had
not looked at the papers for years. Besides, you
are called ‘ Judge’ Lawrence so much that

ople lose sight of the fact that you have a
gout name.”

“ Yes, that is true, and the explanation is
reasonable enough.”

“ Well, we have learned one thing.”

“ What is that?”

“We have proof that our children are in-
cluded in the mentioned ‘eight.’ The fact that
your daughter has received one of the notices
settles it.’

“ Yes, you are right. And now the great
question is, who sent these notices?”

“ it must be some one who is now right here
in town.”

“Yes, true enough. Have you taken notice
of any strangers around '9”

“ There are always strangers here. It will be
impoasible for us to find out who the person is
unless he sees fit to make himself known.”

“ I think so.”

“And, by the way, had we not better keep the
matter as secret as possible?”

“ I think so.”

“So do I. I will tell the girls to do the
same.”

Some further conversation was carried on,
and then the postmaster took his leave.

In the mean time Lulu Lawrence had gone to
the post—office to see her friend, Claudia Madi-
son.

Claudia was a girl about her own age, and
people in general claimed that she was fully as
good-lookmg, even though Lulu did hold first

place.
Hers was a different order of beauty, her eyes

‘ bein blue, and her hair a li ht golden color.

on Lulu entered the o co she found Clau—
dia leaning over her father's desk, a letter spread
open before her.

One glance sufiiced to show what it was.

It was another of the mysterious notices.

“ Oh, Lulu, I am so glad you are here!” Clau-
dia cried, when she saw whohad come in. “Just
come here and see what I have got.”

Lulu replied not, but advanced to the desk,
and laid her own letter down beside the other.

Claudia looked at her in great surprise.

“ What in the world does it mean?” she

asked.
“Just what it says,” Lulu replied, revoking-

1y.
“ It must be some joke.”

" 311;? it inkmt'” ything bo t 'u"
i you now an a u l
I “ Yes, a little.”
“ Then tell me, for goodness‘ sake.”
’ “What will you give to know?” asked Lulu,
still teasingly. ’
“ If you don’t tell me at once, I believe I will
scratch you. Can you not see how anxious I
am? Here it of Mr. Barton Lawrence.
t is your father’s name.”
“ Yes,t :21. it is; and this man was his great-

“ Then there mmt be something in it. Oh,
Lulivlease tell me what you know about it.”

“ ell, I will. First, though, tell me how
you received yours.”

“ It was put into the box. I do not know
how  seeing i , for I know he received
one ust like it; but when he found his he called
me to attend the office, and he went off upstairs
at once. I was busy, and did not come in at
once, and when I did come in he was net goin
out. Then when I began to make up he mail
found it. Where did you get yours?”

“It was put in under the door, with one for
papa, too, and the servant who found them car-
ried mine up to my room, where I found it a
little later. And now to tell you all I know
about it.”

Lulu , then, and ex lained all she knew,
Claudia 118an as eager y as she had previ-
ously done.

To them it was even more of a surprise a
matter of wonder than it had been to th r
fathers, for to them the story of the silver
ket was entirely new. /

While they were talking Mr. Madisoncame in,
and Claudia called his attention to the notice she
had received.

“ I expected you wouldgetone,” he mid. And
then he added:

“ Judge Lawrence and I have been talking
this strange adair ovor, my girls, and we have
concluded that it is best not toletthe matter be-
come known.”

“Then you do not want us to mention it to

._ any one?” queried Cla

Joestainlythink itwillbebetter not to do
w.

“Very well then we will has it a more
shall we not, Lulu?” p t’

“Certainl , if our fathersdeeire it.”

“I know t willbeahard task for you," the

 

 

old tmaster remarked, his honest eyes all
a-twmkle.

“ Oh! will it?” exclaimed Lulu, with a toss of
her pretty head. “ Indeed, Claudia, let us show
him that we can keepa secret, even though we
are irls.”

“ f Course we can,” echoed Claudia, “and
we will.”

After half an hour or so Lulu set out to return

ome.

She had gone but a short way from the post
office when she was overtaken by Ivan Oswald,
the owner and roprietor of the Colorado House,
who lifted his at, sa ing".a

“ Good-morning, iss wrence. Seeing you
just ahead of me, I quickened my pace to over-
take you.”

“ Good-morning, Mr. Oswald,” Lulu respond-
ed pleasantly, as she glanced quickly up.
“ {Vhat a charminwnorniug it is!"

“ It is indeed. here are you going? if I
may inquire." .

“ I am going home.”

“ Then, with your permission, I will walk
with on. since I am going that way.”

“ on may, certainly.”

“ Thanks.‘

We have mentioned before that Dame Rumor
expressed it as her opinion that Ivan Oswald
and Lulu Lawrence were far along on the leas-
ing road that leads to matrimony. An per-
haps the 00d dame had ample reason for her
opinion, or the pair were very frequently seen
together.

The owner of the Colorado House was, of a
verity, payi her marked attentions.

hat her eelings toward him were, we will
not attempt to foretell. He had not at this time
declared his intentions.

We can well imagine what her feeling would
have been, however, had she kn awn that he had
been standing under the rear window of the
room occupied as the post-office, and purposely
listening to the conversation between her and
her friend Claudia.

Such a part Ivan Oswald had just been Play-
ing, and from what we have already seen 0 him
we need not feel surprised.

The post-office stood adjoining the hotel, and
the rear window was partly o n. Ivan hap—

nod to be in the ard, when t e voices of the

we girls reached his ears and he drew near and
played the part of an eavesdropper.

And he felt that he had been amply rewarded
for his pains.

He had learned who four of the heirs of the
m sterious silver casket were.

e entered the house when Lulu set out for
home, and passing right through and out, soon
overtook her.

He conversed with her pleasantly all the way,
lifted his hat politely at parting, and continued
on down the street.

Lulu entered the house, and went at once to
the library.

“ Here, papa,” she said, “put this letter away
with yours, and—” .

She paused abruptly felt in the other pocket
of her oose sacque, an then exclaimed:

“ Wh , I have lost it!”

Out s e flew, and back the way she had come,
but she did not find it. At. the post-office she
in uired, and both she and Claudia searched
dil gentl , but still it remained missing. Nor
did she nd it.

On her way home again she met Ivan Oswald,
and asked him if he had seen it.

His answer was that he had not.

 

CHAPTER XI.
IVAN oswann’s sounun.

WE must return to the scene of the previous
niggt in the hotel ofilce.
hen Ivan Oswald returned to consciousness,
after fainting at si ht of the terrible a parition
that had appeared fore him so sud only, the
first thing e clearly realized was that the sil-
ver casket was gone. ’ '
And then he came to his full senses with a

jump.

To have the prize torn from his hands thus,
was more than he could, or would, stand.

80 he at first resolved.

There was some trick about the matter, he
believed. Ghosts, he decided, were not in' the
habit of carrying th away with them.

He went at once to t e doors to see which one
had been unlocked, or which one he had possi-
bl neglected to fasten.

h were locked exactly as he had left
them.

This fact caused him great uneasiness, for in
no other way was it possible for a mortal to

enter.

Had his visitor really been what it seemed?

There were few possible places in the small
room for any person to conceal himself, and
these were soon explored.

Ivan Oswald was the only person there.

With a dreadfully uncomfortable feeling of
uneasiness and fear, the 0 man threw him-
self down in the chair be ore t e table and look-
ed at the wreck of the wooden box in which the
silver casket had so long rested.

“  it!” he muttered, “ after all my labor,

I .

.i ,. - . A1, . . . .‘ .’ 1 ,- v1. - “3. ‘—\.
I ‘.  ~-“ ‘ - ..: :’ I‘. v
x. -, .' r -,£‘i : .. , a._,r . \ . , 1-) . .. a.

 

to be fooled thus! And just as I had the prize
in my hands, too. Ha! what is this?”

His eyes rested upon a little slip of paper that
he had not noticed before.

Catching it up eagerly, he read:

"Thou fool! After all these years. dost imagine
piy plans shall be upset by thee? Thou fool Thou
raitor J”

The pa
he lean
What could it mean?
mysterious power at work?

r fell from his trembling hands, and

at could he the
He could not

ess.
guThe other paper, he noticed, the one signed
‘f Franklin Howard,” which he had found in the
wooden box, was gone.

For a long time he sat silent, buried in
thought. But gradually his nerves grew steady,
his fears passed away, and he became more like
his usual self.

Gomg out into the tar-mom, then, he tcok an-
other strong drink of brandy.

“ By heavens!” hc hissed, “ I will know the
truth. I will solve this mystery, and that silver
casket shall be returned to me. I will not he
balked thus. I am no believer in ghosts, and
there was some clever trick about the thing I
saw. But, the thing was fieshless, the doors
were locked; they were locked when I came to;
and the casket was gone—is miming.”

With spiteful movements he picked :(p the now
despoiled and empty box and replac it in the
safe, locked the safe, and then gathered a[lap his
files. and cleared away the dirt he had in e.

“ It is strange—strange. It is something too
deep for me to understand. But the end of the

me is not reached, and I may get another deal

fore it is. I am in to stay, and I intend to
win if it is possible.

“ It is a strange afi’air from thebe inning. In
the year 1780, as I have the story, t ere lived in,
New York one Barton Lawrence. He was an‘
old miser. He was thought and believed to be
immensely rich, though he lived in a very mod-
erate style. He had a son and daughter. The
son was an evil, worthless fellow; the daughter
was goodness and urit itself. Old Barton, at
his death, rovide we for the daughter, and
equally we 1 for the son; but what he left them
both was not more than a quarter of the fortune
he was believed to possess. The remainder of
his wealth he willed to his descendants, to be di-
vided equally among them all on the one hun-
dredth anniversary of the day of his death.

" He died October 2, 1780.

“That remaining wealth, or the secret of its
hiding-place, or something, he put into a silver
casket, locked it, and dehvered the key to one
Franan Howard, who sealed it on the day of
the old miser's death.

“ Franklin Howard was old Barton Law—
rence's devoted friend. The old miser had once
saved his—Howard’s—life, and had more than
once saved him from financial ruin! To this,
man old Barton intrusted the silver casket,
with full instructions, exacting a solemn and
binding oath that he would on out his
wishes, and declaring that he would unt him
if he roved false to the trust. ’

“ anklin Howard accepted the charge, and

the miser left sufiicient money, well secured, to ,

defray the expenses for a century' for besides
being responsible for the casket, oward was
to keep an accurate record of the Lawrence

family, in all its branches. " ‘ ‘ 
“In 1795 Franan Howard died, leaving tire  .7332,
n

trust to his son Franklin, then a ed forty.
18:30 he died, leavin the tru to his eldest,
son, then aged fort - ve.

“ It was Frank
put the casket in the wooden box and bound it‘
so securely with iron.

“When Howard the third died, in 1840, he

a numerous family, and he left the silver
gasket to his youngest son, then aged twenty-
ve.

“This son, Jabez Howard by name, was a
cripple, but was full of mental vigor, and the
en owment old Lawrence had made for the one
who would accept the trust, made him a
splendid and amured life-long income. In 1875
he became very ill, and feared he would. die.
Hehad never married, and of course had no
son to leave the trust of the silver casket to.
this emergency he chase a grandson of one of
his elder brothers. This was a youu man,
twepty-five years of age, named Basil oward.
To im Jabez confided the secret, made his will,
and prepared to die. He was seriously ill for
many months, but at last he got well. Then he
learned that Basil Howard had disappeared,

back in his chair, ale as death. ‘

Howard the second who ’

In‘

taking the silver casket and all the records with \

him.

“And it was about five years ago that the
casket and records came into my possession.
Ha, ha, ha! yes, just about five years ago;
And the records I was stupid enough to late.
The silver casket, however, I held on to, but
ndwcthat is gone too. st .d l k! B t,

urses upon my up no u m
li’and is not so badly weakened, after all, thong

it might be stronger. I know that Judge Law- . (f ,f

rence of this town is one of the heirs, and I
shall lay myself out to win his daughter’s hand

in marriage. This will make my grip Sean's. .- 

x

\ 

.\

“tr

    

 

  
 
 
 
 
  
 

M..- ..,.....— .. ‘u. .. u»... awnfia-.. ,. ..... ._ .-.........

n...»- ., 1...... . ....

'10"

.~.__. ..

>n.~w-«.. .. u... moh~ a “-

Rainbow Rob.

 

 

Who the other heirs are, I do not know, for I
last the records before I had time to study
t em.
“ Yes, it is a strange case, and not the least
; strange thing about it is: Where is the silver
i \, casket now? After all my labor to be fooled as
I hav; been! But, by heavens! I will know the
truth of the matter. I will have that casket
-. again in my possession.”
‘ - The hour was far ahead into the night when
’1 Ivan Oswald finally left the office and went up
u v ‘ to his room.
1A" Late as it was, though, he was up at his usual
 hour when morning came, and all traces of his
 ni ht’s work and excitement were gone.

' He had his eyes and ears open wide for any
chance clew to the mystery of the night, but
nothing came to him.

\Vhen he chanced to be in the rear ya rd, how-
ever. and heard the voices of Claudia Madi-
,‘ son, and Lulu Lawrence in the post-office, he
 33.8 tempted to listen to their conversation, and

, l .
v “ Ah-ha!” he muttered, “so the Madisons too,
, are heirs of the old miser’s, eh? Good! This is
2; one point gained. And these mysterious notices
  they have reCeived. Why do they not oblige
, me by reading one aloud? By heavens! I must
7‘ get possession of one of them and read it formy-
self. How, though, am I to. Ah! just the idea,
and I will try it. ’

i His mode of procedure has been shown, and
,when he told Lulu Lawrence, in answer to her
 inquiry, that he had not seen her letter, he lied.

' r' ’ The big envelope was in his pocket at the mo-
 ment; He had deftly picked it from hers.

’ 1 When he returned to the hotel he went at
: I once to his room, locked the door, and then
.' r / drew the slip of paper from his pocket and read

t.

“Mystery of mysteries!” he exclaimed. “I
m' wonder where this will end? With the casket
g, in my possession, and all the records lost, I
.;' ' thought the plans of that old dolt of a Law-
':- - rence must miscarry. But it seems they are
} not very likely to. There must be some
 " , supernatural power back of it all. Well

now know who four of the mentione

ei ht are. Who are the others? And how
m l the fortune, if it is a fortune
be divided? I believe, though, it is to be divided
equally among them all. And there are eight—
one-eighth to each. It may mean a million dol-
f‘" 1 lars for each. Oh, by heavens! the fair Lulu
} I,  must be mine before that eventful day, and.
.’.‘ by heavens! she shall be too. I fancy I shall
‘ ' " have an easy victor , though. And if not—-
well, in the. case, -I s all have to cut out young
Howe and arry the fair Claudia. It makes
little diflerence which, in an emergenc like
this though I would prefer my pretty Lu u.

“If I could have foreseen , ow this would
I come out, I believe I would have— But, that is

past. The case now stands as it stands, and I
must make the most of it. I must set to 'work
now to learn more about the matter, and if pos-
sible find out who the m sterious person is who

the case in hand. ould it pay me to em-
loy a detective? No. I will be my. own detec-
' ive, with the assistance of one or two good men

-—or rascals—whOse services I can command if I
_ want them.”

Replacing the note in the envelope, and put-
tin the envelope careful! away in an inside

 at of his coat, he is t his roomand went
' own to the bar-room.

 

I There Sheriff Barkmore was 'ust putting up
his notice of reward offered for ulphur Sam.

. fl‘he roprietor of the Colorado had heard all

. ‘aboutt e exciti? affair of the previous ni ht

~ in the Green ottle, and was naturally n-
iterested

“ I am told Sulphur Sam called these you last
ni ht Barkmore, ’ he remarked.

' 1 es, curse his impudence!” the sheriff growl-

,__ ed. “It won’t be health for him to show him-

" self in this town again, t ough.” ‘

J “ He certainly had a nerve to come here and
do as he did.”

,- “ You’re right he had; butl from all accounts,

he’s built of nerve. He is a dare-dew], and no—

Great Scott! what has broke loose now?”

, “A wild yellin was heard w1thout,pistol-shots

 were firing, am the sound of a running horse
I would be distinguished.

Both the sheriff and the proprietor sprung to
the door, as did evelriy one else in the room, and
“I . what they saw snrp sod them not a little.
Dashing down the street at full speed, yelling
' at the top of his voice and firing a revolver wit
- ach hand, was the daring black rider of the

previous night, Sulphur Sam, the road-agent.

CHAPTER XII.
A “MERIOUS MESSAGE.

.» ALVIN HOWE, the agent and operator at the
' ,\railroad station, was seated in his office, not
 [Avery busy, awaiting the arrival of the afternoon
. train from Denver. .

‘ . 'But his thoughts were busy, and concerning
‘ the mysterious note he had that morning re-
;11' goeived.

. ' " .Where was that notice new?

., ‘5} He could not imagine, unless it had been oar-
"? v; ried away in mistake by Rainbow Rob.

i
‘ s

 

     
  
   
   
  
    
 
 
   
    
   
 

 

 
 

 

That, he concluded, must be the true explana-
tion of it.

He had not seen the notice since Rainbow Rob
was there, but he had no reason to believ that
Rob had taken it purposely. If he had ta en it
at all, it must have been b mistake.

If not that, if Rainbow ob had not taken it,
then he could not imagine who had, nor what
had become of it.

However, the Denver train would soon be in,
and then if Rob returned, as he had said he
expected to do, the question could soon be
settled.

Not that he, Howe, cared for the loss of the
notice so much, but the mystery of its disap-
pearance puzzled him, and besides he had had
barely time to read it over at leisure since he
fount it.

thile he sat there by his desk near the win-
dow, listening to the clicking of the telegraph
instruments and watchin the people on the
platform, he was sudden y startled to have a
small but weighty envelope drop with a slight
noise upon the desk before him.

He picked it up at once and looked at it, Date
nlil'ally enough, and found that it was addressed
t us:

“ TELEGRAPH OPERATOR.”

Then he looked around to See where it had
come from.

There were two ticket-windows in the oflice,
both of which were open wide, and the other
window, the one facing the platform, was open a
little at the top.

Howe first glanced out into the waiting-
rooms, but there was no one in either room
whom he could suspect of having thrown the
envelope in through either of the windows.

Then he went outside to the platform.

There were several there whom he knew: one
being his assistant at the station, another a boy
who carried the mail bag to and from the post-
oflice, and others. ‘

He questioned his assistant first.

“ Did you see any one ut this letter in there
over the window?” he as ed.

“ No,” the assistant replied, “ I did not.
\Vhy? was it put in there?”

“ I think it was. It just now fell upon the
desk before me from some direction.”

“ That’s rather queer; but I didn’t see no-
body throw it in.”

“ Of course it might have been done, though,
without our knowing it.”

“ Lor , yes! it could ’a’ been done a doze
times. I ve been lookin’ all round.” ‘

“ I’ll ask Tom.”

“ Yes, mebbe he seen somethin’ of it; he’s
seein’ ’most everything that goes on.”

Tom was the boy who carried the mail.

Approaching him, the agent put the same
question.

d No, the boy had seen no one stop near the win-

ow.

Nor had the o rater himself, and he hadbeen
looking out at t 9 passengers and others for ten
minutes or more.

His questioning threw no light upon the matter
whatever.

He was nst returning to the omce to open the
letter an learn what it contained, when the
whistle of the coming train was heard and for the
pert ten minutes he was too busy to think about

17.

Among the passengers who alighted from the
train was Rainbow ob.

What the call had been that had taken him to
Denver, on] he knew.

He ente the gentleman’s waitin -room, and
waited until the rush was over an Howe was
agiln at leisure, and than he went into the
o ce.
“ ’Here I am again, like a bad penny,” he said
cheerfully. “ You haven’t grown much older
since I saw you last.”

“ Glad to see on back again ” Howe respond-
ed. “Step insi 9 here and sit own.”

Rainbow Rob obeyed, stepping within the
litilcliosing railing and helping imself to a
c a r.

“I had no intention of robbing you, my dis-
tant relative,” he remarked, “ but when I went
out of here this morning I gathered up your

letter among my other papers. Here it is.”

“ Yes, I missed it, and thought perha you
had taken it that way. I meant to you.
Thanks.” . _

“You’re welcotne, of course. And I believe
we agreed to have a little further conversation
about the matter, did we not?”

Yes,'and— Oh! by the way,” as he drew
the lately received letter from his pocket, “ here’s

‘another mvstery.”

C t . l
“ Aisha: mystery?"

“ What is it this time?” .

“ I have not opened it yet to learn. I was sit-
ting here by the desk a few minutes before the
train came, when this envelope suddenly dropped
down in front of me.”

“ Dropped down in front of you? Where did
it dro rem?”

“ I 0 not know.” . _
“ as the window Open at the top as it is
now!” , ,

 

 

and so were both the ticket-win-
dows.”

“And the door?”

“Closed.”

“ Then the envelope was certainly put in over
the t0p of this window by some one standing on
the higher part of the platform. A man could
just about reach over to the top of the window
from there.”

“ Yes, that is so. and that is what I have de-
cided u n to explain it.”

“ An of course you went out at once and in-
quired, and found out who did it.” _

“Yes and no. I went out and inquired, but I
learned nothing. No one had seen anybody put
anything in over the window. In fact, no one
hfid” been seen standing near the window at
a . -

“ W'ell, it is a little singular, but still any
careful man could toss a letter in there without
being seen if he watched his chance. Come,
though, instead of speculating on that part of
the mystery. why not open the envelope and
learn what is in it?”

“ Just what I intend to do, and here goes.”

As he s oke the operator tore the envelope
open and rew forth its contents.

In a little piece of old newspaper was wrapfi
soéne money, and there was a slip of paper
s1 es. ,

On that slip of paper was written a message,
with a request at the top for the operator to send
it at once.

It ran as follows:

“ SILvna Nuoen'r, Cor... Se t. 15, 1880.
“To JYAnnlf HOWARD, EsQ., 295 West 35t street, New
or -

“All is sat—e. Seven of the eight are found. Am

looking for the one.
“Manna MCDONALD."

RHowe read it and then passed it over to
o ).
“It’s not the rule to show private messages ”
he said, “ but I fancy we are both interested in
this one.”

Rainbow Rob read it.

“ Yes, 1 think we are,” he . “ ‘Seven
of the eight are found.’ Seven of what eight?
The eight heirs mentioned in the. mysterious
notices we have received?”

“ That is what I think.”

“And so do I.”

“ Then five others besides us have been found,
and there is still one missing.”

“That is it exactly.”

“’I would give something to know who they
are.

“ And so would I.”

“I have been thinkingI the affair over quite a
little,” said Rob, “ and have come to the con—
clusion that it will be wise for us to keep this
thing as secret as possible.”

“ nd so I think, too,” declared Howd. “ I
do not see how we can do ourselves any good
pay letting out that we are concerned in the mat-

r

“You are right; and we m ht possibly do
ourselves harm—or the case, at east. You see,
this person this McDonald, whoever he is, is
aetin decidedly in secret.”

“ es, he certainly is, and he must have
reasons for so doing.’

“ And his reasons, though we do not know
them, may apply to us, too. I had some idea of
speaking to _ud Lawrence about the matter,
but now I think shall not do so. We had bet-
ter let the case take its own course.”

“ I think so. But, you intend to be present at
thggolorado House at the time named, do you
no

“ Well, rather.”

“Who is this McDonald?” ‘

“ Give it up. I never heard of him.”

“ Nor of J abez Howard?”

“ Never.”

“ Do you intend to remain here at Silver N -

get until October second!” Howe presen y .

asked.

“I cannot say,” Rob replied. “I shall eero
tainly make this town my headquarters till
thoaigh, and shall be there on that day, as
m ,

l . l
“A? harm done to inquire what your busi-
nefisllis i: th I t I
o e eas . am simpl a rovin rt.

trying to crowd as much funyand ugmsgiowt
into every twenty-four hours as I can.”

‘f Ygu are well-fixed then, I should venture to

ess.

“Not ieularl so. I have enou h to drag
alon with, howeveyr.” g

“ lSh I could say the same. I have to crowd
about as much work into every twenty-four

hours as I can.”

“You are unfortunate. However, there is a
good time comingtfierhaps'”

:‘ The second 0 toher, ehi”

‘Ha,ha ha! Yes, thatday ma be the gilt-
edge day oi lives. Who can to l?” .

3 I certain y shall not object to a little gilt.”

Where do you board? Perhaps, though, you

are married.” ,
I board down at Green’s, the

“No, I’m not.
other side of the Colorado. Where are yen stop-

\

; .w‘sw-yv“... '

pi i“
figAt the Colorado: And Is guem I’ll be ping. , '

    
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘ - -a-"

 

 

... '-~—,...,.,V._....<. _, _ .J.-.

W... n»... p... ,7“...

 

 

 

. W”?

 

ff

rig ‘42.. ‘,

Rainbow Rob.

11,:

 

 

on down there. I’m keeping you from your
work.”

“ Not at all. I’ve not much to do today. I
must rattle off this message though, or perha s
the next object I find dropping in mysterious y
will be a club.”

“Ha, ha! true enough, and all the more rea-
son I should take myself off. By the way, where
do you spend your evenings?”

‘ Sometimes one place, sometimes another.
I frequent the Green Bottle 11 good deal.”

“Quite a saloon, that. I may see you there
tonight, if you happen in.”

“ No doubt I will drop in for a little while.
There was quite a lively time there last night, I
am told.”

“ Yes, I was there. The place was visited by
an outlaw called Sulphur Sam.”

“And he was here again this morning. He
came down the Old Trail from across the can-
yon, and went throu h the town like the wind,
yelling like a wild ioux and firing his revol-
vers.’

Rainbow Rob seemed interested.

“He will come once too often,” he remarked,
as he went away.

CHAPTER XIII.
TRYPHENA AND ELEAZER.

ELEAZER BROWN visited the post-office nearly
every night.

We may as well say he visited there every
nigh for it was only on Sunday nights, when
the o ce was closed, that he omitted calling.

And nearly eve night he got a letter.

Once in a whil
some distant relative with whom he correspond-
ed, but much oftener it would a letter from Try-
phena Marks.

Eleazer’s regularity in calling at the office
was not owing to his anxiety to hear from the
fair Try hena, but to his fear lest her letters
mi ht fa into other bands.

f one of her letters ever hep nod to be read
by any of the boys at the mine, e ktiew that he
would never hear the end of it.

They would make his life a burden to him.

Even as it was they suspected whom his nu-
merous letters were from, and him as
thtiy could.

e took good care, however, not to let any
onedsee them, and burned them all as soon as
rea .

Yes, he read them all, but never a one had he
ever answered. V

On the evening of the day of which the last
preceding chapter treats, Eleazer called at the

-oflice as usual.

9 mail had just arrived and there was
qulietg a crowd in the office when Eleazer en-

 

, \

“ Hellol Here’s Eleazer!” some one exclaim—
ed. “ Ye don’t reckon she’s writ ag’in tenday,
do ye, Elel”

“ I reckon she has,” Eleazer answered, for he
took these shots all in good part; “ an’ if she
ain’t she’d orter, an how.”

“ Who is that? be fair Tryfeener?” another
inquired.

"Of course it is,” announced some one else.
L‘Dogt ye know how mighty sweet she is on Ele

ere

“That so, Eleazer?”
“Sothey all say,” Eleazer answered, “ but

' th’ letters ain’t from her jest th‘ same."

I“ Ho, ho, ho! that’ll do fer you ter tell. Try-
i'eener is jest as sweet on you as kin be and,
them letters ain’t from nobody else. Ye da’sen’t
let us see th’ post-mark, I bet 1”

“ I don’t reckon I’m goin’ ter, for it ain’t no-
body’s business where my letters come from, I
gusm.

“Wei, wal, don’t git mad, 310' I was in love
once myself, an’ I know how it is. Have ya
been round ter see her lately?" ,

“ See who?”

“ Tryfeener, of course.”

“ No, I ain’t.”

“ Too bad; ye’d ortsr 0 round an’ sort 0’
cheer th' little gal up once u a while.” ‘

“ Ha, ha, ha! ’ from the crowd.

Eleazer took it all as good-naturedly as pos-
sible, howaver, and thus made the’ sport for his
tormentors less than it would have been if he
had got angry.

.In due time the mail was all sorted and the
door thrown open to the public.

The crowd formed in line and advanced to the
o niug, each one of course receiving whatever
tggre ha ed to be there for him.

When leaaer’s turn came he raised himself
up on his toes to bring his eyes u to a level
with the little door, the bottom 0 which was
five feet from the floor, and queried:

“ Eleazer Brown?” ‘

Yes, there it was, the usual dainty, white and
scented missive.

Claudia Madison, who usually delivered the
mail at the window, understood the situation,
and always passed Eleazer’s letter out to him
face down ward;

“ He’s got it, Iggyeesl” the man directly be—
hind him exclaim .

" Whar from?” was the general cry.

“ From Tryfeener, of course." ’

There was another general laugh, and amid it

it would be a letter from-

all Eleazer thrust his letter into his pocket and
started for his boarding-house. ‘-

Tryphena Marks was the burden of his life,
the ni htmare of his existence.

He ad to watch the post-office like a hawk
watches its prey for be well knew that if he
was not on hand some of his fellow boarders
would ask for his mail and bring it to him, thus
learning the truth of the matter.

They might do that, and they might do worse.

They might be rascally enough to open the
letter and read it.

Eleazer would almost as soon have surren-
dered his scalp to 11 Sioux chief. If the con-
tents of one of those letters ever became gen-
(tilrally known, life would have no charms for

im.

It never occurred to him to give directions at
the postoflice to deliver his mail to no one but
him.

then he reached home he went at once to his
room, locked the door, and then opened the let-
ter and read it.

From Tryphena it was; her usual old-time,
musk-scented, genuine orthodox loveletter, as,
we have before described it. It was pasted all
over with little clusters of forget-me—nots, was
full of endearing terms. was fairly overflowing
with tender gushes of love, and it ended thus:

“If you love me as I love you,
No knife can cut our love in two.

“ TRYPIIENA MARKS."

“Good Lord!” Eleazer muttered, “won’t she
never take a tumble an‘ let up on this soft non-
sense? If she wasn’t so confounded tall an’ me
so condemned short, I don’t know but I might
be tempted ter brace up an’ marry her: but as
it is— Oh Lord!” and be fairly shuddered at
the idea.

“Why if she got onto a ram e an’ under-
took to boss th’ ranch, where won d I be? No,
no, Trypbena, it won’t do. You’ll have ter go
fer some feller nearer yer own size. I was built
too short at one end an’ not quite tall‘enou h at
t’other, while you have growed too long at th
ends

“It’s no go, Tryphena. Th’ more you make
love ter me th’ more I’m goin’ ter hang back.
An’ I’ll be glad when this leap-3 ear ends. If I
hadn’t a good job here I’d pick up an’ 't out. I
would, I swear to oodnessl I’m actua ly afeerd
0’ that woman. I she ever gits bolt 0’ me, an’
there’s a gospel-slinger handy, I’ll be a goner as
sure as fate. I feel it in in bones. I like th’
gal purty well, but she’s too ong. But th’ more

try ter hang back an’ keep out 0’ her way, th’

closer she crowds me. The case is growin’ de-
cidedly interestin’, be me if it ain’t, an’ where
it’ll end only th’ good rd knows.

“ An’ she wants me ter write to her, ‘jest one
little line—one little word of love.’ Tryphena,
I’d like to, I swear to goodness; but I’m afeerd
of ye. I reckon ye’ll have ter watch th’ t
with throbbing heart in vain. It seems ' e a
shame to burn this nice-smellin note, with all
th’ purty posies on it, but it’ll have ter he did,
so here goes. Goodnight, Tryphena.”

‘As he spoke he lifted the chimney from the
lamp and held the letter in the flame, and then
watched it until it was consumed. '

Then the great responsibility of the day be-
ing off his mind, he went out to enjoy the even-

i .
nind Tryphena, what of her?

There was no doubt that she really loved
Eleazer Brown, or thought she did, which
amounted to the same thi . _

81 Ifind she was determing to win himif pos-
9.

He had made a captive of her heart by his
flirtation, though it had been a captive many
times before, and now she was determined that
she would capture him bodily.

u find she viewed the case in the wrong
t. t
or idea was that Eleazer was hanging back
because he was smaller the the average. Be-
cause he was too sensitive. .She seemed to be
blind to the fact that she was agreat deallarger
than the avers e.

“ Be an t first,” was her argument, and
he’ll find t t I am not the woman to allow my
aflections to he trifled with. If he is too bash-
ful to make 10ve to me, because he’s a little man,
I’ll make love to him. Thank goodness this is
leap-year, and I ban a righttodo it. I shall
write him a letter every da . I love him, oh! I
do love him, little as he is.

Undoubtedly she did.

And if Eleazer watched the post-office closely
for the reasons we have 11 ed none the lea
closely did ‘1‘ bone watc it, hoping to re-
ceive a reply rom her adored one. _

But she did not call at the office in person.

One of her near neighbors had a little boy,
and him she engaged, at the expense ofa ny
or a stick of candy, to make two trips g" the
post-office daily. .

On the evening of which we now write, this
boy returned from the oflice and burst into
hyphen ’s little shop with a shout.

‘ Ohl issue Marks!” he exclaimed, “ I’ve got
the letter this time!"

 

Tryphena trembled with exciting joy, and a

flush came to her cheeks.
. I ‘A I
/ I l D ; I
. ’ i .. .l ‘ ,l ; ~ l
4'9 ,-   ~  J  V: .  ‘1 ix

. 1 . ’. 1.. a , , « .—
"  "If \'-'.."2."~;- h?" '1 V   ““"_  2,

 

i
“ Oh! have you?” she cried jovfully. as she 
sprun up; “ have you really? But, you must ,
not ca 1 me Mrs. Marks, but has Marks. Oh! '
ou dear boy, you have a letter, haven’t you? v
fiere—here are two pennies this time, and now 3
run along home.” 1
The moment the boy was gone the trembling g
maiden sunk down upon her chair, actually cry- ‘
ing for joy. f
“ Dear, dear, dear Eleazer!” she cried, as she ,
kissed the envelope, “ he hasovritten at last. I
knew he would—oh! I knew he would! And
what good writing, too,” as she held it of! and _ ;
gazed at it. l
The envelope was directed: "
“Miss TRYPHENA Mums,
“S/lttr Nugget."

“ And such a large envelope, too,” she added.
“I wonder why he did not use a smaller one, - ;
regular love-letter size? Oh! I know why! It i I
is cause he is so small himself. and he wants ’
to make me for at that. Dear Eleazer! I would
love ou 'ust t e same if you were no big r
than om humb. And now I must see w t
lIie says. How my hands shake! How nervous

am!”

Cutting off the end of the envelope with her
scissors she drew out the sheet it contained.

It was a small sheet of heavy paper, and on it
appeared this:

“.1780. THOU ART ONE. 1880.
“ Tamara MARKS, thou art one of—”

But there is no need to repeat it all, for we

knlgw thf rest of it 'F'ell enough. d
or a ong time hena set an gazed at it
in silence, and then shipexclaimed:

“It is so, it is sol I am to berich—n'eh! 
Those old papers, the silver casket, the secret— vi;-
Ohl it is true—true! And now how happy my; ‘
Eleazer shall be! I will tell him all, end——
But she stop abru tly. " e,

“ No, I w1 I not tel him,” she cried. “ I will ., '*
kee it a secret and he must marry me for m - "'
sel alone. Bu after we are married, then ! .
then I will make him happg! He does not know '3 ~g
what is in store for him. ut 1 do, and he shall . a '
be mine. I will make love to him now in real .  '
earnest.” - '

And then she drew up to the table“ to write
her love a letter. ‘

CHAPTER XIV. 1; ‘3.
ran sror SAINT mom's. c, - 
“ Smnnas, repent!”  “'3;
So exclaimed the Spot Saint from Scarecrow . 
as he entered the Green Bottle Saloon. " Ii? 9
It was about the usual hour of evening when ’ 
the saloon did its best stroke of businem, and the ‘ fif‘
lace was well filled. ‘ , ‘ ‘5»:
“Hello! hello!” cried Dan Gilbert, who was ; 
figment as large as life, “here comes the Spbt ‘ 4.
'ntl How are ye, Saint? How d’e do?” ‘

“ I am well, my friend, I thank you,” was the

reply. “How are you?” Q

‘Oh, I’m so’s ter set- up, thank ye. How is  a. ’
yer mission comin’ 0n!” 1 “‘

 

“It does not flourish as I should like it to, my ' 
friend. In fact, the soil is so barren that the . ‘ 
seed does not seem to take root. Still, I do not 

despair. I have hopes. Once the seed takes 
root, mycause will grow and flourishlike the ' 'i "
green bay.” - . 

“ Made any converts?”

“ Only one.”

2110, he! Then you have corraled one, have
ye J

“ Yes, I have secured one.”

“ And who is he?” '

“Hewasaverydsgrededmanindeed. I did
not learn his name.” , \ ,

“He was sich, ye say; ain’t heronnd any a
more?”

  
  
  
    
  

“.No; he died.”

.“Ea,ha,hal less. It took fatalholtonto
him at once, eh?”

“No, no, not so; he was shot in a ht.” ' ‘

“Oh! E); must mean Hoes-thief 'who -
got shot Eight down in th’ Full Hand. r.  .

“So they led him,Ithink, now thatyo‘u‘ “
remind me." ’

“ An’ did he repent?’

“ He did. . I happened to di‘op in at 
Hand last mght, just before I came in here, and
was just in time to see the fray. The moment
thiedman was down I sprung to his side and.
as : -
“‘Sinner’said ‘ ou'nscelled. Nowis '
timetorepe’nt.’ L y your.

goo??me he,‘and let meson" ’

'ngs o a t hnkety-bhnk-bhnhgo ’
bhgfihnda blank,and more blanks son a'

“ ‘lilo, no, myfriend,’ saidLa‘it is too late.

Now isyourtime, ymironlyfimatorepeut.”

“He would notlisten, but Maui
to tanothershotatthemanwhohedhithfiii
“YouseeIwasbetween them. ,. ‘ '

.“Snddenlytheotherman thmsthis revolver
nghtundermyerm,flmdenothershot,endfiis,
woundedmanfellbackd ing. ‘ .

“ ‘Stranger,’ he criedf‘hin ~ ‘
Impentnow.’ Andthenextmomsnthewasnc ,9
more. It was a narrow chance, but he re- 7‘
pented.” Q ‘

 

tat-’«rw— «v o>n~-‘,~....A»~mn a...

‘2»

 

 

 
 

   

‘.

"Noww
 ,“WhatboI

. -,.I..,...w.._... WU“. aw. s Mi».

 

12

Rainbow Rob.

 

 

“ Ho, ho, ho! I should say it was! If ye
hadn’t got thar on th’ last round, ye wouldn’t ha’
got thar atall.”

“ I believe you’re right; and hence I say my
cause is not progressing as Icould wish.”

“ So it was you, was it? on ragged old scare-
crow!” suddenly exclaim another voice, and a
rough-looking man of evil countenance was seen
making his way toward where the Spot Saint
stood. “ It was you, eh? I’ve sort 0’ been look-
in’ round ter find 'ye. I reckon I’ve got a leetle
bone ter pick with ye."

“Yes, it was I. my gocd fellow,” the Spot
Saint answered calmly.

“ Wal, as I remarked, I’ve got a leetle p’int
0’ difference ter argify with ye. D’ye know
who I be?”

This man was one Jim Hogan, who was in re-
ality what Dan Gilbert I:{iretended to be—the
“ terror” of the town. e was a villain really

r to be feared. If not an outlaw openly be de-
served to be classed as such, for his deeds were
not the deeds of an honest man. And he was as
treacherous as a viper. He was a fighter a
brawler; and under the least provocation his
weapons were drawn and used.

And the town boasted—or at least had to own
~—another of his ilk. This was one Mike Kinnie.
And the two were always together. If one got
into a fight of any kint , the other was always
at hand to deal a treacherous blow in his beha f.
Mike was in the saloon on this occasion.

“ Let’s have no trouble, Jim,” said Jerry
Lynch, the proprietor, interposing quickly but
speaking paciflcally. “Th’ old man means no
harm to any one.”

“ You ’tend to er own affairs, will ye,” Jim
'retorted. And t on turning again to the Spot
Saint, once more demanded:

“ Say d’ye know who I be?”

The old man‘s reply was calm and deliberate.

“ I think I recognize you,” he said.

“ 0h! ye do, eh? Wal, who be I?”

“ You are the coward who shot that man in
the Full Hand Saloon last night, shot him
when he was down and already mortally

Wound .”
All who knew JimH ,expectedteseehim

drop the Spot Saint in his tracks.

But the rascal was evidently too surprised to
act immediately.

He gazed at the bold speaker for a moment in

‘ silence, and then exclaimed:
’ “I’ll tell you who I am, old man; I’m Jim
Hogan who don’t allow no man to call him
coward! Now you will have ter take back them

words, or die.”
_ “When I speak, Mr. Hogan, I say what I
mean. I seldom retract.

“ Mr. Proprietor,” the Spot Saint then re-

quested, turni to Jerry Lynch, “will iyou
talks “charge 0 my carpet—bag for a lttle
w e.

“ Certaiigy,” Jerry replied, and at the same
time he tri to signal to the Saint that he had
better let Hogan have his own way to save trou—

e.

But his\si lwas not noticed—or if noticed,
was not ed.

“ Thanks,” the old man said, as he handed his
carpet-bag over the bar. “And please take
good care of it.” he added, “it contains tracts.”

Jerry took the bag and placed it under the
" bar, and then the pot Saint turned again to

 t ' Jim H an, this time with the remark:

, “Mr. ogan, I am ready to die. I will not
fake back my wordsl
Jim Hogan looked amend.
_' , it‘,;(3ireai: guns!” he ejaculated, “ye don’t mean
. l
x , “I certainl do," was the calm reply. “I
‘~,amamano peace. Ilove ,and itis

’ I seldom that I am a partyto its disturbance.

When any man rises 11 and declares that I
must either retract wor s I have spoken or die

» then I am ready to be killed, prov ded the said
man can kill me. I have no doubt that you‘are
abetter man than I, but I shall give you a
chance to prove it.”

Needless to say new present was inter-

ested. All eyes were upon the antagonis-
tic Jim Hogan and the Spot Saint.

I'And none were more interested than Dan

" who had alread had a taste of the
Spot int’s nali , an those who had wit»
named the litt culty helmeen him and the
Saint on the previous night.

Dan and the others knew Jim Hogan’s prow-
eh, but the ’felt that the Spot Saint possessed
powerseq to his.

Hie coolness and confidence seemed to pro-

' claim it silently.

“ e(yer want tar die, do yer?” Hogan de-
mand fiercemlg‘j

“Not so,” Spot Saint returned. “You
have said, though, that I must retract my
words or die, and I will not retract them.

hat are you going to do about it?”

n’ ter do about it?” the rufilan
reared- “I’ll a ow yer! I won’t kill e, that
would he too tame; but I’m goin’ ter lic ye like

.old blazes. Be ye ready?”

: “ I am always ready,” was the cool response.

wishes in a figh

. "‘Iti-ageimtm waists!
:5} git-muonlamforzedtodom neverbeckou

“were all with him

 

“ All right glad ter hear it. Ye see, lbeoyees,” i
to the crow , “ this old galoot interfe in a
leetle fracas last night where he hadn’t no busi-
ness, an’ sort 0’ sp’iled my fun, an’ now I’m
goin’ ter take it out 0’ his hide.”

“ I interfered,” explained the Saint,\“ because
I am something of a peacemaker. One man
was down, mortally wounded, and I supposed
the fight was over. I did not know the other
was coward enou h to shoot him again after T
he was down. I new nothin about the quar- F
rel, which was ri ht nor whic was wrong, but
the man who Wil fire a second shot at his op-
ponent after he has already dropped him, and in

such a cowardly way, is a coward, and I am
here to back it up.”
Jim Hogan could stand no more. His face

turned purple with rage, and he made a
spring for the old man’s throat.

But he failed to reach it.

The Spot Saint stepped aside with rising
quickness, and he brought up against t 0 bar
with full force.

This served to add to his rage, and he turned
like a wild animal goaded to madness and thirst-
ing for blood.

‘ Oh! I’ll fix ye!” he cried, and he threw him-
self upon his enemy with force and fury.

This time the Spot Saint met him.

There was a quick exchange of blows for a
moment, and then suddenly Jim Hogan was
knocked flyin over tables and chairs and laid
out upon the oor most ingloriously.

“Sinner, repent,” the Saint said in a calm and
even tone.

“ That’s what’s th’ matter, sinner, as th’ feller
from Rainbow said last night,” shouted Dan
Gilbert, “ you want ter repent. It’ll be good fer
yer health ter do so,” he added.

The crowd was now interested and excited,

th.
They saw in the Spot Saint what they were
pleased to call a “chief.” And their sympathies

And Mike Kinnie, Jim’s comrade, was making
his way around the wall almost unobserved in
order to get a ition near the scene of action
and behind the int.

“ Oh! but I’ll fix ye fer this!” yelled the bra-
vado, as he staggered to his feet. “ I’ll cut out
ver heart! I didn’t mean ter kill ye, but now ;
I’m after yer blood. D’ye hear! I’m after yer
blood!”

“Come on, then,” the Spot Saint invited,
“and draw as much of it as you can. I’m get—
ting old, and my blood may be a little thin, but -
you’re welcome to it.” ‘

“Yes, an’ I’ll have it, too! D’ye see this!"
drawing a huge bowie and givin it a flourish; ;‘
“ wal, Jest prepare fer feel it tickle yer liver. .
Look out fer yerself, now!” 

With a bound, then, th ruman threw himself ,
upon the Saint again. an ,there was a general _

of horror, for all {gameted to see him drive 
his knife deep into his y. ,

But all resent were mistaken. To the great .
surprise 0 Ho 11 himself, and the equally great !
su rise of t e crowd, steel was met with ;

stee.

The Spot Saint proved equal to the emer-
gency.

There were a. few lightnin -like thrusts and
parries, then, and then Jim 0 n’s knife was
torn out of his hand and sent ying over the
heads of the crowd.

“ Sinner, will you repent?”

Calmly and earnest] the Spot Saint asked the
question, with the pont of his bowie pressed ‘
agiainst Jim Hogan’s throat.

be next instant he, the Spot Saint, was
knocked senseless to the floor.

CHAPTER XV.
RAINBOW nos 10 THE FRONT.

IT was a surprise to everybody. '

No one hhd expected it.

Tru a few had noticed Mike Kinnie in the
room, at the at tion was so drawu toward
the two princi actors of the scene, that no
thought was given to him.

But now was realized what his presence had
meant. /

He had worked his wa around the room until ‘
he stood behind the 330 Saint, and then, when
he saw Hogan defea and a knife pressin at
his throat, he drew a heavy revolver and ealt
the Saint a blow behind the ear with its butt.

Down the old man dropped, withcut own a

groan.
And the:e {2:16 cowardly nature of Jim Hogan

asserted i .

“Ye’d kill me culd ye?” he hissed, as he
drew another kni e; and e threw himself for-
ward to drive its blade into the body of the
fallen man.

The crowd was paralyzed with horror, and

werless. Many wee were drawn, but

ere was only one brie second in which to act,
and every one seemed powerless to shoot, or
even to cry out “hold!”

Ono second and Hannibal Long, the 31301?
Saint from Scarecrow would have been not
oanv senselem, but dead.

at Jim Hogan was balked, and by Rainbow
Bola.) the Tull from T

exas.
bwae en the room justet the moms“

 

 

 

. \,
< \

.1. \ '

fl" ce.

when Mike Kinnie dealt the cowardly blow from
behind, and he stepped forward toward him at
once.

And he was just in time, too.

Just as H an sprung forward to murder the
fallen man, t e Tulip from Texas gave Kinnie a
push forward, and the two rascals came into
violent collision and tumbled to the floor in con-
fusion.

“ Hurrah for th’ Tuli from Texas!” some one
shouted, and instantly be cry was taken up and
the room run with loud cheers.

“ Lift the pot Saint up and take care of
him,” Rainbow Rob directed th0se who stood
near him, and then he stepped forward to face
the two men whom he had sent to the floor so
suddenly and unexpectedly, and who were
scrambling to their feet.

Friendly hands lifted the heroic old man u

and laid him upon a table, and then set to wor
to restore him to consciousness.
. “Who pushed me?” demanded Mike Kinnie,
in fierce tones, as he glared around. “Jest show
me th’ man that laid his hand onto me, an’ be
heavens I’ll make a ghost av him!”

“ I did it, you red-mouthed brawler,” acknowl-
edged Rainbow Rob, boldly; “and if you want
to make a ghost of me, walk right up and be-

in.
g “ You, was it?” shouted Jim Hogan. “ I’ll
give ye a lesson ’bout pushin’ folks inter folks,
or in name ain’t what it is."

“ hat did ye push me fer?” Mike demanded.

“ What did you strike that man from behind
for?” the Tulip counterquestioned.

“ None av yer business!” was the retort.

“That’s ther idee,” echoed Hogan; " an’ we’re
goin’ter make ye sick fer that push, too. You’re
too young a rooster ter have spurs you be, an’
we’re goin’ ter cli ’em fer ye. e’ll l’arn ye
whar e kin inter ere an’ whar ye can’t.”

“ ell, you see I made it my business,” Rob
rejoined, " and nof I’m ready to take the con-
sequences. I don’t know what this little muss
commenced about, but I don‘t believe that old
man was in the wrong. If he was—well, he was
down, and no man is going to use a knife upon a
fallen man when I am on hand. That‘s my plat—
form, and now make the most of it.”

The two “ terrors” were now upon their feet
both looking their fiercest, and both with a hand
upon their revolvers.

“ It seems like a shame, too, ter spoil sich a
ood-lookin’ cuss as you be.” remarked Hogan.
‘ It's a. pitv he hadn’t been born with more sense,

hey Mike?” -

‘ It is fer a fact, Jim.”

“ If on had had more sense. young feller,”
Jim ended, “ you wouldn’t tried ter stop our
game.

“And if I hadn’t stopped your ame," the
Tun]? returned, “that old man won (1 now be
de and you would be a murderer.”

“ fi’ye mean ter say we are murderers?”
Hogan demanded hotly. '

“ Shouldn’t be surprised to learn that you are,
both of you,” Rob answered, coolly. “ You
have a mighty hang-dog look about you.”

With fierce oaths the pair of rascals snatched
their revolvers from their belts and ste ped for-
tvyail'ldalttogether, but they were not quick enough

y .

Rainbow Rob, with a movement like light-
nin itself, whipped out a pair of beautiful self—
coc ers, and before the two men could realize it
he had them at a disadvantage. ' .

“ Hold!” he cried. “'DrOp those tools to the
floor, or I’ll drOp you quick.”

His tone was one of command, and Hogan and
Elaine obeyed his order mechanically.

They were too su rised to do otherwise.

The oun sport ad’ been standing with his
hands in h s pockets, idly talking~so it had
seemed; _but the moment he two attempted to
attack him,apresto! and he had them covered.

“ Sinners, repent.”

.The words were low-spoken, but they were
ilistgiictly audible, and a roar of laughter fol-

ow .
The Spot Saint had spoken.
He was beginning to come to when he was

picked u , an he 0 ned his eyes and looked
argund ust as the ’i‘enlip from Texas got the
r

o .”
“i3, ha, ha!” laughed Dan Gilbert. “that
was timely said, Saint, an’ no mistake. [reckon
algeth Ihave ter, same as I did last night. Ha,
with a little assistance the Spot Saint sat up
on“the table, rubbin his head ruefully.
“ What happened ere, anyhow!” he asked.
You got a clip under th’ ear from behind,”
was ex _lained, .“ an’ got laid out. An’ only for
th Tu 1}) from Texas hour, you’d ’a’ been laid
out is;  too.”
i you save in life, sir?” the Sa' t
ask‘eld of Bainlliow Rob. y m
an pose saved km from an u 1 cut at
least” b answeredv.’ “One of thgsg rascals
had just struck you from behind when I came
in knocking you down senseless, and then the
ggl‘ilei; drew a nife and sprung forward to stab
“And you saved me, ehi Well, I am much

obli assure on and I we f
’ What shall we do with thg’trafcxfiig the

mg...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

, swipe at your purty mug, an’ that‘

Rainbow Rob.

13

 

“ You’ll have ter do somethin’ with us an’ do
it while ye’ve got ther drop on us, too,” declared
Jim Hogan. " if ye don’t we’ll go fer ye th’
minute we git a chance at ye.”

“ It is for you to say what shall be done with
them, sir,” said the sport, speaking to the Spot
Saint but still keeping his eyes upon the men he
held at bay. '

“‘Vell,” said the old man, “I am Willing to
let them go and call it square, if they will pro-
mise not to molest me ain. have no desire

to bring them to grief if I can avoid it, much-

as they deserve it.”

“ But we ain‘t willin’ ter call it square,” cried
Hogan, “not by a big jump we ain’t. We
want satisfaction, we 0, an we’re goin’ ter
have it, too. An we’re goin’ ter have it out 0’
both 0’ ye, too.” .

“Then you are really not Willing to be let off
and call it square?” queried Rainbow Rob.

“No, we ain’t; an’ if you want ter save yer
skin, ye‘d better make sure of us while ye’ve
got ter drop.”

“Then you want satisfaction, eh?”

“ Bet ysr life we do.”

“ Bonn to have it, I suppose.”

“ You bet! An’ if ye want ter keep or
health good, ye’d better make sure of us w ile
ye’ve got ther drop.‘y

“ Shall I shoot you, and disappoint the hang-
man?”

“ You heard what I said."

“ Oh yes. cert! Well, Saint, what shall it be!
Shall I invite them out and whip the pair? I
feel just like havin a little fun.”

“say!” cried ogan, “that’s just th’ ideel
Let’s you an’ me step outside, sport, an’ settle the
thin with our fists. ’

“ ill you be satisfied then?”

“You bet 1 will! Jest let me it one fair

be all th’
satisfaction I want.

“ No, no,” the Spot Saint quickly interposed,
now almost himself again, “ that must not be.
This quarrel is mine, my young friend, and if
the gentleman will have the goodness to wait
for a moment until I can steady my nerves
again, I will attend to them.”

“No it am”: your quarrel, nuther,” declared
Hogan. “ not till we‘ve settled with this young
popinjay. When we‘ve done with him, then we

' 1 be ready to give you all ye want, an‘
more.”

“Let them have their own w ,” the Tulip
added. “When they have ‘done for me they
will be done With you, too, I fanc . I feel just
in fighting humor to-night, and think I can
make them ‘ repent.’ I am no great fighter, but
I feel it in my bones that I can get away with
two such cut-throats as these Without much
trouble. Let them have their own way.”

“ Well, since you are determined, and since
they are bent upon getting square with you, too
I suppose I shall have to yield the point. I will
see that you have fair play, however.”

“Very well. and muc obliged. And now,
Mr. Hang-dog,” to H ran, “how do on want
this thing carried on? hat kind 0 satisfac-
tion do you most hanker for? I am willing to
accommodate you in any way you can name.
Talk right to the int, now and let’s get the
uiti) leasant aflairo our ban 5 as soon as pos-
51 e.

“Ohl it'll soon be over with, my beauty, so
don’t let that part of it trouble ye. Put away
yer barkers, now, an‘ we’ll talk biz.”

“I prefer to kee you c0vered until our
plans are arranged. on are not to be trusted."

“ You’re mighty p’ticular.”

“ It pays to be particular in dealing with men
of your stamp.” ,

“ Wal. what d’ye want?”

“That is what I asked you. You say you

want satisfaction, and I say am willing to give
it to you. ow will you have iti—baked—fried
—boiled or icasseed?”

“ Funny, ain’t ye? I'll take that out of ye.
Will ye put aside yer weepins an’ come outmde
with me, man ter man i”

“ I will, with pleasure.”

“Say, though,” put in Mike Kinnie, “I want
ter know where my fun is tcr come in. I want
satisfaction. too. be heavens!”

“ All right. all right,” exclaimed the Tulip,
“I will attend to you as soon as I have given
your partner all he wants. I never do things by

alves. I am one of the most peaceful flowers
in the whole garden, but when I in forced into it
I’m going to ii ht. It was the tulip that once
played merr" ades With the Dutch in Holland,
two hundred and fifty years ago. more or less.
as you remember, or perha you don’t; and I’m
a branch of the same fami y. Now we will get
down to business.” '

CHAPTER. XVI.
rm: mv.

J nanr LYNCH, the proprietor of the Green
Bottle, had been ‘ betwoen a fever and a sweat,”
as the saying is, ever since the trouble had com-
men

He was afraid shots would be exchanged
within the saloon, and trembled for the safety
of his mirrors and bar-fixtures.

He now raised his voice to protest against any
further hostility.

 

 

“Gentlemen,” he implored, “let me be of
yez not to disturb th’ p’ace any more. Ca 1 it
square all around an’ shake hands, an’ then step
up an’ drink wid me.”

“Go to blazes!” cried Jim Hogan. “If ye
don”t shut up, We’ll turn yer old ranch inside
out!

“ No, you won’t!” Rainbow Rob declared;
“ not Lgust at present, anyhow.”

An then turning to t e proprietor, be added:

“ Do not be alarmed, sir. Whatever takes
place now will take place out of doors.”

“ That’s right—that’s right! Yez can’t get no
fair show inside, anyhow. ’

“ Well,” inquired the Spot Saint, “ what is to
be done? Are you really in earnest about fight-
ing these men my youn friend?”

“ I certainly am,” b answered, coolly.
“And you, if you will may step forward and
disarm them while I keep them covered. I
know the treachery of such fellows too well to
allow them a chance to pla any trick.

“ Throw up your han 8, you rascals, and
let the Spot Saint go through your pockets and
boots!” .

The Spot Saint advanced, and in a moment
the two men were completely disarmed.

“ Make sure they haven’t a knife or two in
their boots, or at e back of their necks,” the
Tuli cautioned.

“ have done so,” the Spot Saint replied.
“ They haven‘t even a toothpick left.”

“ All right; then they can t play any treach-
erous games.”

“ Say, thong ,” cried Hogan, “ you’ve got ter
disarm, too.” .

“ Certain] ," said Rob. as he put away his
weapons, “ elxqpect to, as soon as we get ready
for the fray. ow, which of you wants satis-
faction first?”

H  1“ ‘

u Me I”

They both shouted at once, or nearly so.

“ One at a time my pip iins, one at a time,”
the Tulip admonished. “ on are both bigger
than I, and you certainly would not ex t me
to give you both satisfaction at once. no at a
time, if on please.”

“ Me rst, then,” cried Ho n.

“ All right, then, you first. ’

“ I’m sorry, pardner,” Ho an remarked face-
tiously, turning to Kinnie ‘ to disapp’int e,
an’ cheat ye out 0’ your 8 are of th’ fun ut
Iyou’ll have ter wait a few months till th’ ulip

looms again—when he gits out of th’ hosspittle,
an’ able ter be about.”

“ Don’t be downhearted,” Rob instantly
added. “ I’ll give you satisfaction too, my
man, if I have to fi ht on crutches. I never do
things by halves. ’ow, who will hold my coat
and won us?”

“I wil .” answered a voice just behind him,
and turning, he beheld Alvin Howe, the tele-
graph operator, standing near.

“ Just the man,” said Rob, and he took oi! his
coat at once, and then his belt, which was a
broad one of fine leather, and contained two re—
volvers and a fine knife.

This belt was worn in such a way that in front
it was covered by the wearer’s vest, and to all
up raiice he was unarmed.

hese removed, be next took of! his tie and
collar.

“ Now,” he announced, “I am ready.”

“Yas, I s’pose so, with a bowie somewhars
about ye,” Hogan insinuated.

“ It is plain that you never heard of Rainbow
Rob before,” the sport remarked, adding: “ It
is also plain that you are a treacherous cur, as
you haVe already shown yourself to be, or you
would not be so suspicious.”

“ You s'pected me fu’st."

“Yes, because I know what men of our ilk
are. The only weapons I carry are in t t belt
my friend is holding. I don’t ask on to take
my word for it, though; come an search me,
and be satisfied in that respect, ten. I want to
give you all the satisfaction 1 can.” ,

Hogan did not hesitate to accept the invita-
tion.

He stepped forward and searched the s as
careful ' and thoroughly as the Spot Sain bad
search him.

“ All kerrect,” he finally decided, “ an’ now
fer th’ circus to ." '

“ How about the town authorities?” ques-
tioned Rob. ,“Will t ey be likely to interfere?”

“ Ho, ho, ho!” laug ed Hogan, “ beginnin’ fer
crawfish a‘ready, be ye? Ha, ha, hal I thought
you’d show the tender quill afore we got down
ter biz.” '

“ You do me wrong,” the rt protested. “ I
wanttosatis {on to the f , and if there is
any danger o t e sherifl and a lot of ddputies
sw00ping down upon us before your satisfaction
is complete, I would prefer to 0 outside of the
town limits before we begin. hate like fun to
be interrupted right in the enjoyment of a good
thin . ~

“ very sensible suggestion,” the Spot Saint

seconded.

“ It is, indade,” Jerryi Lynch hastened to
afilrm.- ,

" That is so." declared Dan Gilbert. “ It is

ag’in’ th’ rules 0’ law an’ order at Silver Nugget
ter fight in th’ streets, or in th’ town limits a

I . . ~ g ‘ V
. v- v. - r .1 .
.. ;\. r I” M  I ;I '~ I" pp ‘ , , \ he

 

tall; an’ th’ sherifl’ an’ th’ mayor, John Bark—
more an’ Judge Lawrence. ye know, is jest p’izon
ag’in’ it. I reckon ye’d be safer ter git across,
th’ canyon afore ye begin.”

“To thunder with th’ sherifl an’ th’ ma or,
an’ th’ town laws, too!” cried Hogan. “What
do we care for ’em? If they go ter uttin’ on
any frills round us, we’ll go fer t em, too.
We’ll settle our little difi'erence right out hour
in th’ road.”

“ With all due respect and deference to on,”
the Tulip from Texas contradicted, “ I beg cave
to announce that we won’t. If you have no re-
spect for law and order, I have, and if you want
satisfaction out of me you will haVe to step out-
side of town limits to take it. This is no wild
camp, where every man carries his own law in
his pocket or belt; but one of the finest little
towns in this State, according, to all accounts,

and the capital of —- coun .
“The yo man certai y is in the right,”
declared Spot int.

And this was the general opinion. Not that
all resent had such a steadfast rifiard for law
an order, but the wanted to see e end of the
affair, and did no want the “ fun ” spoiled for
them.

“ He’s skart,” observed Mike Kinnie. “ He‘s
skart, an’ wants a hole to crawl inter.”
“ Of course he is!” exclaimed Hogan. “ If he

thinks I’m goin’ ter walk a mile or two, and

then have him git down an’ ax my pardon an' .
try ter beg off when we git thar, he’s mi en.
I want saterfaction, an’ want it now 1”

Before any one could guess his intention, he
sprung forward as he uttered the last word,
aiming a blow at Rainbow Rob’s face—a blow
heavy enough to fell an ox.

If it was a surprise to others, however, it was
just what the Tulip had been looki for.

He saw Hogan gathering himself or a blow as
he was speaking, and when the blow came he
dodged a little to one side, and allowed it to pass
him.

:33? ou’re bound to have it, are you?” he mut-

“ You bet I be!” was the instant response, and
another hea blow was given.

But that, ii e the first, proved a futile one.

The sport dodged again, and then, before
Hogan could recover, returned the blow with in-
te

rest.

“ Well, then, have it!” he cried, in rejoinder
to the rascal’s retort, as his arm shot out, and
Hogan was lifted from his feet and sent flying
over one table, and deposited upon the hard floor
under another.

“ That was a foul crack,” exclaimed the other ,
of the pair, Kinnie, instantly; and before the
Sport could hardly turn to face him, he had
struck a blow.

Rainbow Rob was a practiced boxer, how—
ever, and the force of the blow was averted,
gpgkthe next instant Kinnie, too, was upon his

The S t Saint stepped forward at once, and
go did lvin Howe; but Rob motioned than

ack.

The Tnlip’s blood was now “ up.”

“ Don’t interfere,” he exclaimed,
them come! They wanted satisfaction, and now
let them it.”

“ But t ey are two to one!” .

“ No matter let them come. I have sized
them u , and f they can get away with me, I
am wil ing to take al they give.” .

“ All right,” the Saint agreed with reluctance:

“ have your own way, Robert, but I shall see ’ ‘

that you have fair ’play.”
“ And here, too, added the station agent.
“Here, too,” was the cry from many others.
Rainbow Rob evidently was not without
friends.
It took but a moment for Hogan and Kinnie

to pick themselves up, and then .at the Tulip 

they rushed, both at once.
Rob dod ed Ho
nie’s and t en, be ore the latter could realilo
what had ha
the floor again.

For a moment the battle between Rob and '

H n was hard and furious.

ogan was something of a boxer, and aimed ,
his blows well, but the Tulip was the better 'v

man, and, just as Kinnie rushed
Ho an was knocked out.

in, again

“but let ~>

’s blow and parriedKin- " 

r."-

._.. ..  h-.-.,.......-..~.. .W.m«—..mm m”-

l.
r .‘,

.4»;

s
. .

had he was upon his back@' a

.g‘ ,
-.

1 :4
V

v

.4“ .

i 

innie know little or nothing about flue  "

“ manly art,” and of course he “as quickly dis-

“,7

posedof as fast as he could fallandgetup . "
m .

p they got as soon as they could, and at
sport they rushed a third time endeavoring to
get hold of him.

Rob fought furiously, knocking their hands .. ,
away about as fast as they were laid on, and at '

the same time getting in some telling blows upon
their faces, and presently Kinnie was floored
once more. ‘ '
Then the sport pitched into Hogan and pun-
ished him severely; punished him, in fact, until
he bellowed:
“ Hol’ on! he]! onl'I’ve got enough i”

“ Are you satisfied?” demanded Rob. with a :2

closing cuff.
“ Yes, yes! cnhff l”
" Got all the satisfaction you want, eh?”

,n

:1 '7

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sit,

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Is‘ ' '

z. the
.4‘ '
;'_j ,redd
‘ (twill 'put these birds in the

t  not,” said Jim Hogan, sullenlfv.
81'

[£37 '

4 g. hf the

  This cr

3;” pth’ drop onto Jim Hogan,

'1‘,-
' P
. : $1

14

“ Yes, I cave.”

Kinnie was just preparing for another turn,
so Rob went for him, and it took but a moment
to make him sing the same tune that Hogan had

sun .

Bgth were fairly and squarely whipped.

And then such a cheer as went up for Rain-
bow Rob! and such biases and boots for the
van uished terrors! And in the midst of it all,
She Barkmore and two of his deputies ap-

peared upon the scene.

CHAPTER XVII.
A cums 1N sxm'rs.

Sultan's Bmuoan advanced boldly into the
room and to the scene of action, and demanded:

“ hat is going on here?”

“ It’s only a leetle scrimmage,” Dan Gilbert's
read tongue replied.

“éi it seems, and— Hello! Jim Hogan and
Mike 'Kinnie, eh? Just the birds we are look-
in for. We want on on account of that

' down in the ull Hand last night. Lay
hold of them, men, and clap on the bracelets.”

Being disarmed, and completely “used up,”
too, the rascals could offer no resistance, and

l were easily taken.

“ What have they been trying to do here?” the
sheriff then inquired.

“ The have been trying to rule with a high
band,” inbow Rob answered. “ When I first
calm in, this man "—indicating Hogan—“ was
about to murder the S )t Saint here, whom the
other cut-throat had ust knocked down with

‘ a treacherous blow from behind; and because I
interfered, they both turned upon me and de-
manded satisfaction. I have been trying to ac-
commodate them.”

The sheriff laughed.

. “So I should think, judging them by their
appearance,” he remarked. And then he added,
turning to the Spot Saint:

“ And what were the going for you for?”

“They wanted satis action out of me, too,”
the Saint answered.

“ Satisfaction out of you?” the sheriff repeat-
ed: “in what way had you stepped upon their
coma?”

“ Why, you see I happened into ,the Full
Hand Saloon last night, just about the time the
nun was shot, and I made an effort to save him

’ from an further attack. I knew nothing about
the m ts of the qtuarrel, but m%ympathies
were all with the allen man. ile I was

v kneelin beside him, though, this coward thrust
 his revo ver ri ht under my arm and fired an-

other shot into 's body.”
“ That is how it was, ehi, I am thinking it
-, will 0 roth with you, mdy beauties.”
“fhadnt nothin’ ter 0 with th’ case,” de-
1 .clared Mike Kinnie. -
,. “It was a fair fight" protested Hogan, “an’
if ‘1 hadn’t killed H'oee-thiei Hank, he’d ’a’
killed me.”

N

. “It is a pity on did not succeed in killing

each other,” the shen'fl commented. And then
to the crowd:

~i.

 he ded
'3 z"ime ’hsve kept out of si ht all day. and I

oped to find them 11 town. Still, I

- hardl
H t t they possibly might be reckless eno h
'. th’o‘s'gow ugh
"‘mx'l‘banks to you,” turning to Rainbow Rob,

themselves here, and so I set out w
men to pay the saloons a visit.
i. ‘I‘ the capture was an easy one.”

'- “ re are their weapons,” the S
,as he laid themuponatab

t Saint ob-
before the

. ri
‘ "And here are yours,” Alvin Howe supple-
mented. h ’ng Rainbow pr his.
“ Yes, thanks,” Rob acknowledged; “I will

“I'V

"'1‘ put them on.”

He did so, and then donned his coat, etc.

sherifl, at the same time, gathered up the
of his two prisoners, as the Saint laid-

Athembn the table, and‘ in a few moments was

to leave the room.

-“ me,” he said to his de

  

ties, “and we
, boose. I think
they will have to bid adieu to the active world
flora time. Too bad, too, for such useful and
v ornamental citizens will be
doubt. Bring them on, men.
“Don’t be too sartain whether we’ll be missed
“ We ma
some. Th

greatly missed, no

"I quite numerous heurabouts—

f‘f'ihaur Spot Saint feller is our pme fer some
, .\,‘time: an’ you,
 .you bet!” '

Tulip, we won’t ergit you,

They were led away, then, and were soon out
' room, the Spot Saint calling after them
,1- as they disap red:
' - “Sinners, o repent.” ,
ted a diversion a roar of laughter
, hollowed, and the crowd turned to find new
sources of excitement or amusement, or both.
7 . “Party well done, boyees, purty well done!”
laimed Dan Gilbert. “ Purt well done all
 hang me if it wasn’t! h’ was: you did
Mr. int, was

,1. ‘ ful; an’ you’d ’a’ won th’ round, too, if it
 n’t been fer that blow from behind.
 “ An’ then you hum in, Mr. Tulip, an’ th’ way
did wake up this round here was a can-
temcats. You jest old chain light-

   

ZN

 ’ ' er mooters be;an’th’wa on yedo
yer duhs.’isygl'oriousl y y

  

 

Rainbow Rob.

“It makes me feel proud ter call two such ;
gentlemen my friends; it does, by Satan!” ;

“ I am the friend of any honest man," the ,
Spot Saint declared. “ In fact,” he added, “ I I
am the friend of every man, honestorotherwise. ‘
I am a friend tomy enemies. Landlord,” turn- i
ing to Jerry Lynch, “ may I trouble you for my
carpet—bag again i”

“ Here it is, sir,” Jerry responded, as be hand-
ed it over the bar. 

“ Thanks for your trouble,” said the Saint, as ’
he received it. “ The old thing is valuable to
me, if to no one else. It contains tracts, you
know, and it would not be easy for me to get a ‘
new sup )ly of them were I to lose these.”

“Nu, should reckon not,” Dan Gilbert rc- %
marked.

“ Allow me, friend Gilbert,” the Saint observ- ,
ed. as he opened his carpet—bag, “ to present you a
with two or three of them. Take them home
and read them. They will do you good. If (you
are proud to call me your friend, I am prou to
give you these.”

Dan took them, half reluctantly, and said
“ Thhnks.”

“ And you,” the Saint added, turning to Rain-
bow Rob “allow me to oil'er one to you.”

“Thanks,” the Tulip said, as he took it. u I
will reserve it to remember you by.”

“ n’ so will I,” cried Dan, as be stuffed his
into his pocket. And then to change the subject,
he went on:

“ If it hadn’t been for Rainbow Rob here,
Mr. Spot Saint, I’d ’a’ been into that fight, tooth
an’ nail. An’ I’m a reg’lar untamed hyena
when I git my feathers on, you bet. Some 0’
th’ bo s here think ’cause I m a little easy with
th' 01 woman, an’ do urty much all she asks
me ter do, that I’ve go no sand. That’s where
they make their grand mistake! I’m all sand!
I’m easy with th’ old lady ’cause I love her, an’
lwhat? wouldn’t a feller do for the woman he

oves

.. “ As I was sayin’, if it hadn’t been fer th’
Tulip, I’d ’a’ been inter that fight up tomy ears.
I was jest gettin’ th’ drop onto Hogan when th’
sport appeared, an’ as he was direct in line, I
was afeerd ter shoot for fear th’ ball might go ,
clean through th’ man an’ hit him. Only fer
that, I’d ’a’ bin that, you kin bet!”

“ Yes, on would,” sneered a big, red-headed
miner, w 0 was half full of fire-water.
know you of old, Dan Gilbert; you couldn't lick
a sick calf.”

“ Couldn’t I?” roared Dan. “ If I couldn’t
at) away with them two fellers I’d eat m

ts. tell ye, ye don’t know Dan Gilbe .
Ye may think ya do, but by Satan edon‘t.
I’m th’ ong-clawed, grizzly of th’ wool y West,
I am, and don’t ye e tit! Whoopee! I’ma
howlin’ cyclone when paint my face!” And
fiourishin hisarmswildly the “bra 'ng bully,”
as he was nown, “ got right up an howled.’

All who knew him lau bed, of course.

“Ha, ha. ha!” he of t ered head roared; “if
we don’t know only this time, Dan, we nevsr
will an’ that’s th f .”

“ Wal, ye don’t then, an’ that’s th’ fact!”
cried Dan, growing still more excited. “ I once
licked four men n in Idaho, an’ with one hand
tied ahiud my back_at that! Oh!—”

“ Ha, ha, ha!”
er it's so! I knocked ’em all stifl
too. Oh! ’m a howlin’ hurrycane when I git
ter goin’, an' some 0’ these days I’ll rove it to
ye, too! I’m th’ untamed hyena. ’ devas-
tatin’ whirlwind of th—” ‘

“ , ha, ha! ya-a-a!” the red-head howled.
“ An’ ter let a sti-new git away with ye like you
dolv Ha, ha, ha!

“ Laugh! laugh if ye want fer! but I tell ye

i

l
l
l
I
l

The brayin bully was silent at once, and
seemed to shr nk into himself with fear and
conscious insignificance. His face w pale,
his tongue was silenced, his jaw fe , hisarms
came down, and he trembled in his boots.

Mrs. Dan had appeared. ‘
“ Damn!” the little woman re ted, still
hi her and louder, “ where are ye? on’t think

I dn’t hear ye a-blowin’, fer I did. I—oh! there
ye be, eh?” and in a moment more she stood be-
fore him. I

“ Y—yes, I’m here,” Dan falterineg ack now-
ledged. _

“ I see ye are, Dan‘l, I see ye are. An’ did ye
hear what that red-headed galoot called me?‘
—— e our wife ?

“ -no, 1—1 don’t think I did, my dear.”

“ Well I did then; he called me a squaw.”

“He did?” .

, y— nu ain’t a squaw.

“ Then ma e him take it back. If you’ve any
respect for me, cram it down his t roat. Of
course I ain’t a squnw! au’ I want you ter tell
him so. . Will ye see me insulted like that?”

“ You bet I won‘t!" cried Dan. And then to
the red-headed miner he said:

“ Mister, I reckon you’ll have ter take it back, !
to save trouble.”

“ Not much I won’t!” the red-head exclaimed.
“ I said you ’lowed yer squaw ter rule ye, an’ so ‘

 

“D"ye hear,‘Dan’li d’ye hear?” the excited
. -' a a _ I \ .

'— \
.\ :1. 79.2, r.‘ ,c‘e, th‘». 4.. _..,’-
Vt, 1. ‘,.-..i'.y.v “A: ‘3‘”. r“

‘esca

little woman screamed, catching her liege lord
by the sleeve and pulling him toward the miner.
“ D’ye hear wnat he’s called me again? Now
you jest go for him, or I’ll go for ou.”

The miner had dropped his han upon a revol-
ver and stood defiant.

r. Gilbert hesitated.

“ D’ye hear?” the little woman demanded.
“I want ye ter make him take it back! He’s
insulted yer wife! Ain‘t ye mean enou h ter
resent iti—you, th’ long-clawed grizzly, t ’ un-
tamed hyenai”

Dan was desperate and reached for a weapon,
but the miner was too quick for him.

“ Hold on!” be exclaimed, “ it won’t be
healthy fer ye ter draW, Dnn‘l!”

“ See how ’tis, don-t ye,” said Dan, to his bet-
ter (a great deal better) half; “ he’s got th’
bulge.”

“ Yes, I see he has ” in a sneering tone.
“ Anybody kin git th‘ bulge on you, an’ anybody
kin insult yer wife. If you was onlv half th’
man you claim to be, you’d ’a’ had th’ drop on
him th’ instant th’ word of insult left his
mouth. You’re a coward, Dan Gilbert, nn’
that’s all ye are l”

“ What!” Dan cried, “you call me that! D’ye
want me ter knock yer head off?” and he raised
his hand.

“ Yes, I call 6 that," the little woman af-
firmed; and as s e spoke she stepped up close to
him, put her arms akimbo, and looked up at him
deflantflfy. “And now go ahead and knock my
head 0 ,” she added.

Dan “ took water."

“ Come,” he said, “ le’s go home.”

“ Yes, le’s go,” Mrs. Dan agreed; but at the
same instant she whipped a revolver out from
under her apron and turned upon the red-headed
miner, getting the “ drop” on him beautifully,
at the same ime addin : “ But we won’t go
till this galoot has taken ack what he said.

“ Now,” she ordefld, “ you take it back. you
red-headed quartz-driller, or I’ll drill you !”

And there was a dangerous gleam in her mild

eyes.

It was a bitter pill for the fellow to swallow.
but he was in a bad corner and could not well
: and this being the case, he thrust his
revo ver back into his belt, lifted his hat With
mock politenem, and said:

“ I make it a p’int never for refuse a lady,
ma’m, an’ ter you I ’pollygize. You ain’t no
squaw; you’roa chief.‘

 

CHAPTER XVIII. ,
BEN DOWN TAKEN DOWN.
TH]: perfect bowl of laughter that followed,
fairl caused the building to tremble. i
“ ree yawps fer Mrs. Dan 1" cried some one.
And three cheers were given with a will.
Mrs. Gilbert blushed, bowed, and smiled pro-

fuse] .

"'lyhank ye,” she said, “ thank ye kindly. I
hope I don t seem bold; but when I have ter
stand up fer myself, I’m goin’ ter do it.

“ Come, now, Dan’l, le’s go home. This is no
place fer u.”

She sti held her revover in hand, and “ Dan’l ”
had little choice in the matter.

“ All right,” he assented with seemin Will—
ingness ‘ le’slgo. Ye see _ ys, when a eller’s

ot a plucky ttle woman like mine, an’ he loves

Eur like I do, he’ll do a’most anythin she sa 5.
8 I

Come on, little chief.” .

“ That’s what I said, ‘ come on,’ ” Mrs. Gilbert
repeated, and she led the “ devastatin’ cyclone ”
away in triumph. ,

As soon as they were gone, the redoheaded
miner broke out again.

“ It’s all well enough,” he mid, “ ter be per-
lite to th’ shemale kind, an’ do as they request;
but on kin bet high that no woman kin ever
hand e me like that one handles Dan Gilbert!”

“ You would not allow it, eh?” the Spot Saint
inguired.

' Allow it? Never! Why, Dan is just afeerd
ter say ‘ beans.’ ”

“ So it seems.”

“And if on were in his place,” remarked
Rainbow R0 , “I venture to say you would do
very much the same as he does.”

“ Would I? Well n0w, young stran or, don’t
you fool Ivbourseli'. I’ve got a wife an famny
same as an has, but you’ll never hear tell 0
Ben Down’s bein’ follered around an’ walked off
home. 011! I reckon not!”

“ Then it is clear that Mrs. Down has not the
nerve Mrs. Gilbert has. She, I want to tell you,
has some ‘ sand ’ in her.” ’

“ Sand or no sand, she couldn’t boss me.”

“ She took an apology out of you in a most
business-like way noticed.”

“ Thunder! didn’t I ’splain why I guv in?
Didn’t I say I make its. p’int never ter refuse
shemalesi” '

“ Yes, so you said, and Dan's excuse is about
the same; but don’t you so we could all see
through it? Ha, ha, ha! know it is a bitter

ill, but you take my word for it, that woman
has at nerve enough to rule this whole town."

“ Why, confound it, young stranger, you seem
ter talk as though I am afeerd of her!

“ It looked very much that way. I assure

” ‘

on.
f“ It did indeed,” the Spot Saint confirmed. i

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,‘ “Wh , t snakes, feller- rdners, you’re
5 away 0 i could ’a’ turned t ’ vantagein no
time, if I’d wanted ter, an’ made her sick 0’
drawin’ a pop on me. You really don’t s’pose
she made me ’pollygize, do ye?”

give you my honest opinion of it, Mr. Down, I
mu‘stwsa that I do so suppose.”
idee my action would give, you kin bet I wouldn’t
é » offer’d no ’pollygy, woman or no Woman!
‘ It’s too late now, though. If it should ever
’ happen ag’in, which ain’t likely, you bet I’ll

show ye how it stands, an’ how it don’t!”

k « For quite a time this, and the other events of
, the evening were discussed, until they lost iii-

terest or were exhausted, and in the mean time ‘

the saloon had settled down to its normal state,

all the excitement being over.

“ Innocent amusement, gentlemen,” the S at
Saint from Scarecrow remarked, after watchlng
the players at one of the 1 tables for a con-
siderable while, “ is g for the mind, and
what is good for the mind is good for the body;
, and anything that is 00d for the mind and
i body cannot be hurtfu to the soul. Hence, if
~f any one present would like to play a game or

two of pool with me, let him say so.”

“ I’m your man, sir,” announced Rainbow
Rob, who happened to be standing near by, in
com any with Alvin Howe.

“ ll right, young man,” the Spot Saint

, agreed, “ we’ll it. ’

- _ The players they had been watching bad just
given up their table, and the Spot Saint, taking
up a cue, secured it for himself.

,  Rainbow Rob selected a one, and then the

i, game opened by the Spot Saint’s “ breaking"

" I and running a score of six balls.

“I guess I shall not have to give you any
points, my friend,” the Tulip remarked.

“ It is some years since I have handled a cue,”
the Spot Saint responded, “and I have lost my
grip a little.”

“ You must be an interesting player when you

~ are on our muscle, then.”

The pot Saint smiled.

A peculiar character the Spot Saint was, cer-
tainly. He still wore his long, black and tatter-
ed coat buttoned up close to his chin; his hat had
its same crushed-down appearance: his boots
gaped as widely as ever: and he still looked cler-
ical. Sized up as a whole, however, we cannot
recall our former statement that he had more th
apfigarance of a “ hard case.” ‘

was something of a mystery—or at least
that was what Rainbow Rob thought, and he
meant to know more concerning him, if possible
to learn it.

The young man’s thoughts. though, did not in-
terfere with his pla ing and as soon as the Spot
Saint missed he too he d.

The balls were left in a very awkward position
for him to start in, but after examining their

1 -, Elfin; for a moment, he ventured upon his

‘ s o

l“? And that shot was the wonder of the even-

i

l

.- wi.-.o-n a...
u x.

 

’ ‘ nstead of shooting at the halls directly, he
' sent the white flying u to the opposite end of
the table, where it struc I the cushion and then
rebounded toward the balls it was intended

for.

»’ These balls, two in number, lay in such a posi—

- ,tion that no other shot could have pocketed
either of them, and evan an expert player would
have found it necessary to exert his skill in
shooting from that side.

' And that first shct provcd Rainbow Rob an

, . ex rt player.

41 e not only pocketed one of the two, but both

' of them. . ,

That shot met With loud applause, and follow—
ing it up, the balls now being in good position,
the Tulip from Texas easily ran “ l.’

In a few minutes this table was the center of
attraction of the whole room and for an hour
or more the patrons of the Green Bottl wit-
nessed pool-playing such as few of them he ever
seen before.

Both Rainbow Rob and the S t Saint were
good players and although the ulip carried off
the honors, the Saint was not greatly distanced.
Both made some extra good shots, and both,
of course, missed some that the veriest amateur
would have blushed to miss—as is usually the
way.
This event of the evening is mentioned “by
the way,” in order to lead up to the hour of a
little " scene ” that followod.

And that scene was one in which Ben Down
figured, much to his surprise.

About the time when the interesting pool-

lsying ceased, who should enter the saloon but
rs. Dan Gilbert.

The meek—looking and mild-eyed little woman

see ed atly excited.
‘ ‘Fls Down here?” she inquired, speaking
loud enough for all present to hear.

Ben Down grew red at once, as his mind re-
verted to the other scene in which he and this
little woman had played the leading roles.

‘ “ Yes.” he answered. roughly; “he’s here.
What d’ye want 0’ him?”

“Mav [speak with ye fer a minute in pri-

vate?” Mrs. Gilbert requested.

\

 

 

“Well,” answered Rainbow Rob “if I must. i

, if I’d ’a’ knowed that that was UP?

| “Naw ye can’t,” was the reply. “If ye’ve
got anything ter say ter me, out with it.”
Ben felt that the public eye was upon him now,
and wanted to recover the ground e had lost in
; the other encounter.
“ Well,” said the little woman, “your wife is
. very ill, an’ she wants ye ter come home right
away},

Now, had Ben acted in a sensible manner, and
as he certain] would have acted had any one
other than rs. Dan Gilbert brought him the
same information, he would have started for
home at once: but he did not do so.

He felt that he must show that he was master
of his own actions, and that neither his wife nor
Mrs. Gilbert, nor both of them, could hasten his
movements.

Under the circumstances, nothing was ex-
, pected of him by any one present but quick and
prompt obedience to the call.

This was a case in which his former “ hitch
up ” had nothin to do, and had no influence—or
should not have ed, at least.

But Ben was not prompt to obey.

“ All ri ht Mrs. Gilbert," he said, “ I’ll be
there in a ittle while.”

‘ No, you must come at once, indeed you
must,” the little woman insisted, but without any

of entreaty.

“I’ll go when I get ready,” Ben owled.
“ You don’t want ten think ye’Ve got an Gil-
bert tor deal with now, an’ kin boss me around
as ye do him, fer ye can’t do it! I’ll go home
when I at ready.” ,

Mrs. ilbert’s face flushed, and a new light
gleamed in her eyes.

“Nohody is t in’ ter boss ye ’round,” she
said. “ I’ve more y done my duty, and more, in
comin’ here fer ye at this late hour; an’ now if
ye ain’t man enough tor come, ye kin stay.”
And she turned and started for the door.

“ See that?” Ben chuckled, “ see how she drop-

glgg’d a-waltzed him out 0’ here in no time. No,
sir-ee,” as Mrs. Gilbert disappeared, “ no blamed
squaw kin run me, an’ don’t ye furgit it!”
Hearin her husband’s name spoken just as
she p out, Mrs. Gilbert stopped just outside

boiled.

In an instant she resolved to take Ben Down
home. i

She was no stranger to the Green Bottle, as
she assisted in cleaning the saloon every week,
and at ones made her way around to the rear
and entered again by wag of a back door.

Some few noticed her, at she quickly motion-
ed them to say nothing, and then advanced
swiftly and silently toward where Ben Down
was standing.

’ “No, sir-cc!” Ben was just explaining
petticoat rule for me. An’ if Dan woul l
that squaw of his’n her place, she’d—”

“ Now you shut right up, Ben Down, on

root, bl fool you, an’ march for home. I ye

on’t 1’] fix ye so’s ye’ll have ter bede
there. You’ve called— Hold on! don’t make
no move tor drawl If ye do I’ll drop ye dead.

it no
earn

home. Now, start I”

This was the climax—capping event of the
whole evstgigg.

There the little woman, with a cooked
revolver aimed straight at Ben Down’s head,
and he was helpless. ‘

He stormed, and blustered, and raved and
swore, but all to no purpose.

said:
“ Now, Ben Down, we’ll go. You’re makin’

twitch an’ pull this trigger as not. I mean biz,
now, rn’ if ye don’t start oi! I’ll shoot. Now,
start ‘

did the business, and, completely oowed, but not
silenced. the red-headed miner started, amid
the delirious booting and yelling of the fun-
loving crowd.

 

CHAPTER XIX.
IN woans or FIRE.
Two hours after midnight. I
Silver Nugget, the little city so busy and
bustling in the daytime, was now silent.
Scarcelya sound was to be heard, and few
persons were abroad

man was to be seen, slowly going his rounds,

corner and pause for a few minutes’ chat; but
scarce] any one else.
Few lights were to be seen, and the streets
were cloaked in darkness. '
About the hour named, after the watchman
had passed up the mam street and beyond the
t-omce, a dark form came along from the
gifection of the hotel corner, keeping closeto
the-bugdings, and advanced to the door of the
0 cc.
It was a man; but who that man was, no one,
in the darkness, could, have told.
Stopping at the door of the post-office, and

' . \

 

"i

.\ ave ..r . 'ir

accent of command. Her tone was entirely one ,

me? Now if that had ’a’ been poor Dan, :

the door and listened. And then she heard the .
word “ squaw ” used again, and her blood fairly ,

I mean 'biz, now, an’ you want tor mosey fer ' i

The little woman 3
had him, and had him tight. And at last she ‘

me nervous, an’ my finger is just as likely ter :

It was the big uncompromising revolver that ,

Here and there, occasionally, a night watch- ;

who might meet another of his kind at some 1

X“ ,,,’.\}f’{‘ "M, _-=,n' up, ' ,3}, n'

.s.  «3.4 wig...’ -

keeping close within the doorway, the first thing
he did was to drawa large envelope from an
inner pocket and drop it into the box.

This done, be next produced a bottle and a
_ small brush.
any one been watching his move-
‘ ments, that person might well have wondered
; what he intended to do now.

And that person would have wondered in
vain, for the man’s intentions could 1131: have
been guessed, or anticipated.

Opening the bottle, takin the cork out with
[his teeth and holdin it t us, he dipped the
:brush into the liqui it contained, and then
1 reachin up, began to paint upon the door.

Rapi ly and freely his hand moved, tracing
; characters it would seem, and for several min~
. utes he was thus employed. ,

| Finally his task was done, and putting the . t
{ stopper in the bottle again, and returning bottle
pan brush to his cket, he glided away as
, cautiously as he ha come.
i What had he been doing?
r

__ -x_._.. -

 

A chance observer might well have asked the .‘, '
question.
- Had he, the observer, stood and watched the
‘ post-office door for a short time, all would have
1 been made plain.
Not long had the mysterious man been gone,
: when peculiar little spots and lines began to ap-
l pear upon the door, glowing faintly.
Minute after minute these spots and lines in-
; creased in number and in brightness, until they
1 be an to form themselves into letters and words.
e man had been painting with luminous
} paint!
. When the watchman made his next round his
; attention was drawn to the door of the
€olfice by his catching a glimpse of some ing
i bright as he was passing, on the opposite side of
,the street, and looking quickly across he saw ? ,
5 what he at first feared was the beginning of a ,
fire. “ ‘1'
A second glance, however, told him that it \ 
' was not fire, and he crossed the street to investi-  Q1

.. “n ..

. - uni—w... a... ..‘~»._+‘u.. . w .4: s

H...

f9. 
gPaJudge of his surprise when, on reaching the \J ' f3. .
,opposite sidewalk, e beheld u n the door of " _
I the postofilce, in words of fire, t 6 following: , ..
“ NOTIUEl ' ' ‘ "=
“There is a letter in this office, addressed to
18mm. Doirron, Esq. an person knowing the
" matii.’ will please notify him. The letter is import-
an .
There was no signature.
I “Mighty queer I didn’t see that afore,” the
watchman mused as he read. “ I’ll bet it wasn’t  ._
there when I went up th’ street, fer if it had ' " ' '
been I oouldn’t’a’ helped noticin’ it. “Fender.
how it kem there? If it iSOId man Madison’s, r; A;
i work, he’s got a new style, that is sure.” ~ ‘ "‘

 

i Stepping up to the door, the man ut hisf 
f fin r upon one of the letters and found t t the '
paint was fresh.

“Yes sir,” he cogitated, “this has been put
on in ' e 0’ half an hour. that is pop sure. It _ 
v wasn’t on when 1 went up, an’ that is less’n ahalf .  “‘
{ hour ago. Shouldn’t wonder if there was alittle ‘
i mystery here 0’ some sort. Hope I meet Joe at '
i th’ corner, an’ if I do I’ll fetch him here tar see‘
' t ”

 

! The watchman went on then, and, as he had {15"}
. wished, met “Joe.” another of the night-watch “if;
1 force, at the corner. -' .- 
i “ Joe,” he mid, “there’s a mystery up th’
I street here.” \
i “ A mystery?" quoth Joe.
E “ Yes, a mystery.”
“ What is it?" _ 
“Th’ devil has been writin’ on th’ door of th’

, p0stofi‘lce. Come an’ see it."
i “You’re foolin’."
, “ Nary. Jest come an’ see fer yerself. lie- , 
: sides, I want goof ter what I’ve seen, so if it ,~ 

ain’t there in ’ mornin’ I kin tell my story.”  .
' “ All right, le’s go an’ see it, then.’ .;
They went up as far as the post-ofice, and the ~
‘ mysterious notice was still there. a -. "
e If anything, the phosphoric paint was glowing
i even brighter than ever.
i

   
 
     
   

“ There it is,” said the discoverer, “ an’ now,
what d’ye think of it?” ,
“ Loomerous paint,” Joe announced at once. 

1 “ What d’ye call it?” v 
“ Loomerous paint. Paint that kin be seen in ~  

i th’ dark.” gs};
“Oh! I see. But, how did it come there?” ~ 

i “ Put there, in course. Th’ master must . 47
' have a new idee. Must be tryin’ to show us what '

i he kin do.” 

A h“ P’pstmaster be darn! He didn’t put it ’
t or: - ‘

, “He didn’t! How (1’ e kno he didn’t? If  =

, he didn’t, then who did ’ s

‘ “Give it u . It ain’t likeU, though, that ,th’ ' '

l .
" old man won d git up at two o’clock in th’momvr .‘
; in’ ter paint a Sign, is it?” 1;-
I “ Wal. no, not egzackly, I should say.” . ~;
I “So I opine: an’ this notice heur ain’t been 2‘:
painted more’n half an hour at th’ most." “2
i “ That is sing’lar, I swow.” " "
i “ That’s jest th’ fact of it.” C
1 “ How d ye know it, thou hi” ,
g “ Wal, in th’ fu’st place t ’ paint is wet; an”
‘ in th’ next place. that notice wasn’t there half ~
an hour ago when I went up th’ street.” -~ 1: "

    
 
   
   
 

'If-l..'  i

a

-vsa... .. .

.... .--..-; .,_,.,

r  not been able to find him, an

 

4 ‘l _ this .rson actsso secretly?”

' “ .' I’ll be bound!" taming to the

 

16

Rainbow Rob.

 

 

y.
I “Mebby it was, an’ Egg didn’t see it.”

“ Nixe . If it had n thar then I’d ’a’ seen
it, jest t ’ same as I did whin l kem down th’
street." _

“ Wal, I reckon you’re right.
queerness, hang me if it ain’t.”

The two dismissed the matter for some min-
utes, and then concluded that it did not con-
cern them much anyhow, and returned to their
dut .

Sg'm . hours later, when the town awoke to the
business of another day, that notice upon the
door of the post-office was seen in letters of the
deepest black.

It was earl discovered, the old postmaster
was soon ma e aware of it the story of the
night watchman was not long in getting around,
and that notice upon the door became the talk
and wonder of the town.

All the forenoon crewds stood and gazed at it,
and there was one question that the postmaster
and his daughter answered a hundred times at
least.

And that question was this:

“ Is there such a letter in the office?”

And the answer was the same to one and all,
thus:

“ There is.”

Yes, such a letter was there, as the reader is
aware.

In the course of the forenoon Judge Lawrence
called at the office and the postmaster invited
him to step around behind the counter and into
the office proper.

“ You saw that notice on the door, I suppose?”
he ueried. ‘

“ es,” the 'udge answered, “ and I have
heard the pecu iar story the night watchmen

It is a sort 0’

tell about it. Is there such a letter here?"
“ There is. And that is not all.”
“ Not all?”
“ No.”

“ What more is there to it?”

“You recollect the two mysterious notes we'

received, do you not?”
“ Certainly.” .
“Well, this letter for Samuel Dunton is a
c yof the same notice, or I am much mis-

en.

“ Ha! is that so?”

6‘  is”! '

“ What gives you the impression it is so?”

“ Why, the envelope is the same size and
kind, and the writing is in the same hand. Here
it is, see for yourself.”

As he spoke, Mr. Madison took the letter from
its proper box and at it into the judge’s hand.

“ You are right, ’ the judge declared. as he
examined it, “it is the same. How did it come

re?” "
, “ It was dro

during the mg .” . ‘

“ By the same one who painted the notice on
the door, of course. ”

“ Yes, that seems reasonable to suppose.”

“I tell you, Henry, there is a great deal to
this old story. A great deal more than we are
aware of.”

9‘ I believe on are right.
this Samuel unton can be?”

"‘ Hard to tell.”

“ We shall learn when he calls, of course."

“ Yes, if he does call.”

“ You think he won’t?” .

r “ He may be dead. My opinion is that the
man who left the letter and painted the notice
on the door has been searchin for him, but has
that this is al-

into the door-box some time

And I wonder who

most his last resort.”

“ I believe you are right. You see, that no-
tice, written in letters of fire, as it were, is
bound to be talked about, and if Samuel Dun-
tOn is anywhere in this part of the country, he
is bound to learn, sooner or later, that a letteris
here for him. ” .

- “That is the way I look at it. Will you al-
‘ low the notice to remain on the door?”
. “ Yes, I shall leave it there just as it is. It is
‘In no‘ one's way, does harm to no one, and as
Samuel Danton is no doubt one of the favored
‘ eig t,’ and evidently can claim some degree of
rela onshi to me, I should be willin to lend
what aid can to the man who is searc ing for
him.”
“Bi ht enou h I venturetoagree. Do you
nott k ita lttie strange, by the way, that

“ ell. es, it does seem strange. I suppose
he has his reasons for it, however, and knowa
what he is about.”

“Yes; I suppose so. At any rate, we must
give him cred t to that extent. ” .
Just then their daughters, Claudia Madison,

' ' and Lulu Lawrenqa, came in.

' “Oh! here on are, papa," exclaimed Lulu.

‘  “l have been ooking for you.”

“, And what do you want? Some favor, James,
postmaster. '
“No doubt—no doubt,” was the ready an-

awer.

. “Yes. it is a favor, of course,” Lulu owned.
' “ Claudia and I want to go for a ride, andI have

' been looking for you to ask if we may have our

r»  flavorite horses”.

v: v  “ Ha, ha! Just what I expected. Yes.
 , [take them: at do not go too far.”

1“'C‘Ja=“v . I' .i“. .
‘    ‘~ I. .4 . - ,1

 

. I
A .II‘ 5". ’ « xv. '

“ No, we shall not 0 far.”

“ And you are wi! infipapa?” asked the fair
Claudia, turning to Mr. adison.

“ Yes, yes; only be careful.”

With laughter and thanks the two hurried
away to order the horses got ready.

 

CHAPTER XX.
SULPHUR san’s DEMAND.

LULU LAWRENCE and Claudia Madison were
firm friends, and the belles of Silver Nugget,
Lulu holding first place, as we have explained.

They often went riding together, for pleasure
and exercise and both were excellent riders.
They rode With ease and grace, and managed
their horses like true equestrian queens.

And of no prettier sight could Silver Nugget
boast than was presented by these two girls
when they dashed away down the Old Trail
upon their spirited horses.

On this occasion, when the left the post-office
they went at once to the gawrence residence,
where Lulu immediately telc honed to the
stables for the horses to be sadd ed and brought
around. _

In a short time they were at the door, and
theni the girls mounted and were off like the
ma .

“ \Vhere shall we go?" asked Lulu, as they
left the town behind them and the Old Trail
ceased to be a street and became a trail in fact.

“ Oh! I do not care,” answered Claudia;
“ an where.”

“ Ve were cautioned not to go far, you
know.”

“ Ha, ha, ha!" Claudia laughed musically,
“ so we always are.”

“And we are so good to obey.”

“On, '08!”

And t en they both laughed.

Evident! such parental mandates did not rest
very heavi y upon them.

“ Suppose we ride over to Bonanza and back.”

“ Oh! will that not be really too far?”

“ Why, no. It is early, and such a beautiful
day' it will be just delightful.”

“ ell, just as you sa . If you are not afraid
there is no rgason why should be.”

“ Afraid! What is there to be afraid of i”

“ You forget that dreadful road~agent, do
you not?”

“ Pshaw! do you suppose I am afraid of him?
I have nothing he can take, exce t a ring or
two and I guess he would not mu or us.”

“ IIe mi t capture us, though.”

“ Well, should like to see him do it. If
his horse can outrun ours, it is a good one. If
you are really afraid, though we will not go.”

“No no, I am not afrai , only I thought it
would be well not to go quite so far.”

“ Well, we won’t then. We will go half-Way,
and then return.”

“ All right. And now—awa I”

‘ Both touched their horses lightly with their
whi , having reduced their speed to a walk
whi e talkin , and away they went at a rapid,
graceful can r.

Bonanza, the place which Lulu Lawrence
proposed as their objective point, was a young
town about twelve miles from Silver Nugget,
and the trail led through one of the wildest parts
of the country.

There were few camps between the two places
and none on the direct trail.

About half-way to Bonanza the trail led
through a deep, and almost perfectly dark
canyon. ‘

And it was to this point that the two girls
decided to 0; that is, to the entrance to the
canyon an there turn and start back a ain.

On t ey rode, chatting merrily, and erich
blood of rfect health mounted to their cheeks
as they rank in the pure mountain air.

“Some one has been this way before us this
morning,” Lulu remarked when they had tum-
ed of! from the Old Trail and entered upon the
one leading to Bonanza.

“Is that so?” Claudia queried, in response to
the remark.

“Yes; see there, and there.”

“Sure enough.”

“ Wonder who it has been.”

“ That is useless. Some one going to Bonanza,
though, no doubt.”

“ cs, that is pretty certain. It is nothing
to us, however.” ‘

Oh they went, and in due time arrived at the
plqce they had decided upon as their turning
p0 at.

At the entrance to the canyon they stopped,
and then allowed their horses to rest while they
en oyed for a few minutes the beautiful scenery.

ive minutes, perhaps. they stood there, and
then they turned to start for home.

Judge of their surprise, then, to learn that
way] were not alone.

ere before them, as they turned. they beheld
a masked horseman. He was clad in black from
head to foot, and his horse was of the same
colort. It was. in fact, Sulphur Sam, the road-
agen .

"‘ Do not be alarmed, ladies," he said, lifting
his hat, “ I intend no harm to you.”

“ ’I‘hen let us pass at once, sir, if you please,”
Lulu demanded splritedly.

 

 

“ Yes, yes, ina moment. I see such pretty
faces so seldom, that it is not easy to deny m -
self the enjoyment of feasting my eyes when t e
opportunity offers.”

“ Sir! you insult us!” cried Claudia.

“ Iam sure 1 have no intention of doing so.
Is it an insult to tell you that you are pretty,
when I s ak but the truth?”

“ We 0 not wish to discuss the matter, sir,”
answered Lulu. “ Please allow us to pass, and
at once.” ‘

“ You shall go presently. Pray do not deny
me a few minutes of the pleasure of your com-
pan . May I in uire where you reside?”

“ e reside at Silver Nugget,” replied Claudia,
“ and we desire to return there immediately."

“ Silver Nugget, eh? I was there the other
night, and a ain yesterday. Quite a charming
little city. t has many attractions.”

“ Yes, we have heard about your being there,”
remarked Lulu.

“ Indeed!”

“ Oh, yes!” Claudia confirmed.

“Then no doubt you are aware who I am.”

“ I think we are,” Lulu returned.

“And who am I?”

“Are you not Sulphur Sam ?”

“ Under the circumstances, ladies, I can see
no reason why I should not own that I am.”

“Then you are detaining us for the pn
of robbing us, no doubt,” commented Claudia.

“ You are wrong!” the road-agent exclaimed.
“ I have no such intention. I have told you
that I intend no harm to you.”

“Then why do you not allow us to go on at
once?” Lulu complained.

“ Bless me, how unreasonable you are !” Sul-
phur Sam exclaimed. “Alli ask is a few mo-
ments of your time and company, that I may
admire you and you are not willing to grant
even so slight a favor.”

" You have det 'ned me several minutes al-
read , sir,” Lulu u god.

“ ut very unsatisfactory ones, since you have
been ‘gerSistently demanding release.”

“ hat, then, would you have?” Claudia in-
tcrrogated.

“ I do not ask much. Change the sub eat. let
me enjoy the pleasure of your society or ten
minutes, and you shall pass.”

“ And if we refuse ?”

“ Let us not consider that. ”

“ Why not?”

“ Because the terms I offer are so liberal and
reasonable, that you surely will not refuse them,
and ,f’orce me to other measures less agreeable to
you.

“We do refuse, sir, and flatly, to hold any
further conversation with you whatever!” cried
Lulu, indignantiy. “And now we insist upon
your allowin us to pass at once!”

“ Hal ha! a! Beautiful! beautiful! Charm-
ing!” the road-agent exclaimed. “ What a fiery
Spirit you have! I admire you, I must confess.

“ You had better allow us to go, and that im-
mediately,” Claudia warned.

“Pretty, pretty!” the outlaw cried. “ I
scarcely know which of you is the more beau-
tiful. Such s iritl Such flashing eyes!”

The pin w ere the three stood was at the en—
trance the deep, dark canyon we have men-
tioncd, and there the trail was narrow, and en-
closed on both sides by rug ed, rock walls.

The on! chance the inai ens had or escape in
the direction the desired to go, was the possible
one of a sudden ash forward, one on each side
of the horseman who blocked their way.

And they both seemed to recognize this

chance at the same moment.
With a quick meaning glance at each other
the touched their horses, and the noble ani-
ma 3, as though perfectlgounderstanding what
was inquired of them, unded forward in-
stant y.

But the attem t was not successful. With a
quick motion ulphur Sam turned his horse
across the narrow trail, thus blocking, the way
for Claudia completely, and at the same time he
caught Lulu’s horse by the bridle.

“Not so fast, my beauties, not so fast!” he
exclaimed. “Do not imagine that on can es-
cape from Sulphur Sam so easily. ow foolish
you are! to make all this annoyance for your-
selves, when the terms I extend are ens .

“ Take your hand off that bridle, on wretch l”
cried Lulu. in an im rious tone. And as she
uttered the common she flashed forth a tinyre-
volver from the pocket of her dress. ,

Instantly Sulphur Sam’s gate was turned to-
ward the canyon, and taken off her guard for
the instant, Lulu looked in that direction.

The next instant, with a quick motion, Sul-
phur Sam snatched her weapon from her hand.

He had played a clever trick—the trick which,
then h old, is ever new.

“ 3, ha, ha!” he laughed. “Don’t you begin
to realize the sort of man I am? When all the
sheriffs of Colorado and all their deputies have
failed to et away with Sulphur Sam, don’t
imagine t t he will allow a woman todo it.
Oh. no!”

So disappointed were the two girls, and so
veXed, that they were ready to cry.

“ If you. too, are armed," the outlawi mid, ,,
turning toward Claudia, “ pra do not attempt '
to use your weapon. 1! you 0, you will force

I

‘  \ I - 1F .. :32. '1 .-
1 ‘ ~_.“‘..~ 5%“.  ‘r;

 

.  :«  as: .

 

"fir 4i

n x.

 

Rainbow Rob.

17

 

me to harsher measures than I desire to take  honorof your company, said Rob,” “ and if Ican

against you.”

“ Please let us go,” Claudia implored, as she
realized how helpless they were in his power.
“ I am sure it can be no plrasure to you to
worr and frighten us as you are doing.”

“ on are right. It is no pleasure to me, and
I am sorry you have brought it about. Had
you complied with my simple request, and hon-
ored me by granting what asked, you would
have by this time been free. Now you will have
to buy our liberty at a dearer price.”

“ Buy ourliberty!”

“ A dearer price!”

“ Exactly so.”

The two girls looked at each other, with their
terror plainly written upon their faces.

“Oh, do not be greatly alarmed, ladies,” the
rascal said, with a laugh; “ the price I demand
is one you can easil pay. A kiss from each of
you, and you shall free.”

At that instant another actor appeared upon
the scene. and a ringing voice commanded:

“Hands up, you dog! or you are a dead man l”

CHAPTER XXI.
RAINBOW ROB AND LULU. c

IT was a surprise for all three, for none 0
them had heard a sound before the ringing words
were uttered.

But Sulphur Sam did not obey the order.

He well knew wnat capture meant for him.

Instead, he put spurs to his horse, without
even lookin around, and placin himself direct-
ly in line With the two youn 1a ies, leaned for-
ward low upon his horse an bounded away into
the canyon, sending bick a mocking, defiant
lau h as he disappeared from sight.

wo or three shots were fired after him by the
man who liad_appeared upon the scene so oppor‘
tunely, but Without effect, owing to the surprise
at his sudden move, rhaps, and certainly OW-
ing to the fact that t 0 two girls were directly
In the way and in danger of being hit.

And this man, who was be?

At his first words, the two girls, glancing in-
stantly in the direction whence they came, be-
held, standing in the middle of the trail, a short
distance away, a handsome young man of noble
presence. , ‘

He was clad in a suit of dark-blue corduroy,
wore a shapely white hat, and— But why de-
layi He it was: Rainbow Rob, the Tulip from

 

- Texas.

Thrusting his revolvers back into their phi-es

_ in his invisible belt as soon as Sulphur Sam was

out of sight, he raised his hat politely, say-

in :

5I am proud, ladies, to have been of service
to you.”

‘ And we can never thank you enough, sir,
for thgdgreat service you have rendered us,” re—
spond Lulu, as she rode forward and extended
her hand.

“I am more than thanked already,” Rob re-
joined as he took the proffered hand and touch-
ed his lips to the dainty fingers.

MiSS ulu felt her pulses quicken at the touch,
and the warm blood mounted to her cheeks,
making them blush like roses.

Claudia. too, rode forward and offered her
hand, at the same time thanking their hero for
his timely interference.

Rob accepted her hand and made a clever re-
sponse, but did not bestow the same favor he
had shown to Lulu.

He knew very well who the girls were, and
had learned that his friend, Alvin Howe, was
Claudia’s accepted lover; and for this reason,
if for no other, be omitted the caress—if so it
may be termed.

" Have I not seen you at Silver Nugget?" in-
quired Lulu. _

“ lt is very likely.” Rob answered. “ I am
sure” I have seen you there, and your friend,
too.

“ Yes, my home is there, and so is hers. You
are a stranger there. are you not?”

“ Yes, comp.ir:itively so. But, may I inquire
which way you are going?”

“ We shah return home at once. We came
out for a ride, and were just about starting
back when we were stopped by ,-that rascally
road-agent.”

“Then I would advise you to start on at once.
There is no tellin what new work that fellow
may be up to. e bears a hard reputation.”

“ Perhaps you are right.”

“ I know that I am.”

“ And which way are you going, sir, if we
may ask ?”

“ I shall return to the town at once.”

“ How fortunate!"

“ Why 1” .

“ Because you can hear us company.”

f‘I should be delighted to do so, but unfor-

V tunately I have no horse. I am out on foot.”

“No matter, we will walk our horses all the
way, and you can easily keep] with us.
Pray do not think me selfls ,’ it was Lulu
speaking, “ but that fellow disarmed me, and
now we are positively afraid. Is it not so,
Claudia?” 

The little poatmistress assented that such was

’. ‘ ‘ ' \.

v,‘. Q

I

be of any further service to you, you have but
to command me. Let us go.’

The trio started, then, Claudia ahead, and
Lulu following with Rob walking at her side.

A blind man could have told where the Tu-
lip’s reference lay.

“ m I right in guessing that you are Miss
Lulu Lawrence?” Rob presently questioned.

“You are,” was the reply: “ T um she.”

“ And your friend is Miss u idison, whom I
have seen at the post-office?”

65 Yes. H

“ So I thought.”

“ You have seen us before, then?”

“ Yes. I have seen Miss Madison at the post-
oflice, as I said, and you were pointed out to me
yesterday afternoon.”

“ And may 1 inquire your name?"

“ My name is Robert Ransom.” \

“ Oh, indeed! Then you are the one I have
heard spoken of as ‘ Rainbow Rob,’ are you
not?

“ So I am sometimes called.”

“ What a funny name! lVlly are you so
called 9”

“It is owing to my partiality for bright-
colored neck-ties, such as I now wear.”

“True enough! the one you have on is just
like a rainbow.

“ Yes, it is an imitation.”

“ What funnynames .people do get here in the
West, as a rule.”

“ Very true.”

“ There was one I heard pa speak of yester-
day, that I thought was particularly odd. I do
not remember it now, clearly, but I think it was
‘ Spotted Scarecrow,’ or something like that.”

Rob laughed.

“You evidently mean the ‘ Spot Saint from
Scarecrow,’ ” he said.

“ Oh, yes! that was it.
it is!”

, “ It is, indeed; and the man is just as peculiar
as his name.”

“ So! In what way is he 50 peculiar?”

Rob then went on to tell of some of the Spot
Saint‘s queer sayin s and doings, at which the
two jrirls were great y amused.

“ henever you tire of my company, ladies,”
the sport presently said, “ you are at liberty to
gallop away and leave me. This is but a sorry
pace for you, upon such spirited animals.”

"That would show how grateful we are for
the service you have rendered us, indeed! But,
you need have no fear of our wearying of your
com any so long as you are pleased to talk. ’

" hunks. I shal continue to talk, then. you
may be sure. I am afraid, however, it will not
take long to make you tired of listening.”

“Not while you interest and amuse us as you
have been doing.”

“ Very well, then, I shall exert mySelf to the
utmost.”

And he did.

He was an excellent talker, and he spared no
Bailns to make himself agreeable, especially to

u 11.

Not that he slighted Claudia in any degree,
for he did not, except in walking beside Lulu all
the way; but it was Lulu’s 9 es that met his
own as he talked, and it was s 9 who tried most
to keep the conversation from flagging.

The distance, especially to Lulu, had never
seemed so short before, and before she could
hardly realize it they were entering the town.

“ What!” she exclaimed, “are we here so
soon?”

“What a short way it has seemed!” echoed
Claudia.

“ Which speaks well for the way you have en-
tperttfined us, sir,” Lulu added, with a smile, to

o .

“ I a preciate the compliment, ladies,” Rob
respon ed, “ and sincerely hope that I may
some time have the pleasure of trying to enter-
tain you again. I trust, however, that you will
have no further need of in services to rescue
you from road-agents and t 6 like.”

“ And so do we!” they both exclaimed at

What a peculiar name

once.

“ We shall take care not to venture so far
from town again,” Lulu added.

Before they had gone far, after entering the
outskirts of the town, they met no less a person-
age than Judge Lawrence.

The judge had been over to a mine in that di-
rection. and was just coming out upon the 01d
Trail from a by-path as the three came along.

“ Why, here is papa!” Lulu exclaimed, as
she drew rein.

The judge advanced toward them at once,
with a questioning glance toward Rainbow

b

0 .

“This gentleman, papa,” said Lulu, “is Mr.
Robert Ransom. to whom Claudia and I are
great! indebted for his having rescued us from
a term 1e dilemma a short time ago.”

“ Indeed! Mr. Runsom, allow me to take your
hand, and to thank you. If my daughter is in-
debted to you. sir, so am I.” ‘

Rob gave his hand, ponding:

“ The debt is more t an canceled. sir, for the

 

\ I act. reward .
‘ “I shall be more than pleased to have the l “Isli‘fll speak ofit, air, a

, pleasure of being of eerwce to the ladies amply
me. Prev do not speak of it.” “
I thank you most

1.‘

 

    

sincerely. But, Lulu, what was your ‘ terrible
dilemma’?”

“Why, we were captured by that horrible
road-agent, Sulphur Sam, and he was worr ing
and insulting us outrageously when Mr. n-
som appeared on the scene and put him to
flight.’ /

“ By heavens! but this is a greater service
than I could have dreamed of ! Young man,
allow me to thank you again; and if there is
anything I can do for you, you have but to com-
mand me.”

“ Thank you, sir, but I am more than reward-
ed already. Besides, no man should expect rev
ward for doing no more than his duty.”

“\Veil, well, have it as you will; but please
count me as your friend.”

“ That, sir, I am proud to have the privilege
to Are you going into town?”

‘ es

“ Then I will walk with you, with your per-
mission, for I can see that the ladies’ horses are
impatient to be of! at a livelier pace than a
walk.”

“ Certainly, certainly, 1 shall be glad to have
you do so."

“ And, papa,” said Lulu, “ you must ask Mr.
Ransom to call on us.”

Then, With a nod and a smile from each, the
two iris touched their horses and were away
like tfie wind.

“Allow me,” said Judge Lawrence, then, as
he and Rainbow Rob started up the street, “ to
comply with my daughter's reqiiest and ask you
to call upon me at my houSe. shall be glad to
have you do so.”

“ And I shall be pleased to avail myself of the
invitation.”

“ You put that road-agent to flight, my
daughter said. A pity you did not capture
him. '

“ It was im sible to do so, under the cir-
cumstances. e sought safety in flight, and in-
stant! placed the ladies between himself and
me. could do nothing.”

“ You did sufficiently, however, in utting
him to flight and rescuing the iris. shall
not forget the service. I would 1i 9 to see him

ca .

“ As I think you will, sir. Such men come to
grief sooner or later.”

Quite some conversation followed, during the
walk into town, and when the two men arted,
Rainbow Rob had made quite a favora le im-
pression upon the judge. '

 

CHAPTER XXII.
THE nxsrnmous LETTER.

WHEN the shades of evening began to fall
over Silver Nu zget, a crowd began to collect in
front of the postofllce.

People were attracted there by the two watch-
men’s story of the mysterious notice 11
door—the stor that at night the wor stood
stood forth in otters of fire.

Few doubted the story, but all wanted to see
for themselves.

Long before it were possible for the effect of
the “ loomerous ” paint to be noticed. peoplebe—
gun to congregate there, and presently some-
thing gave t em cause for much merriment.

It took but a glance to learn what that somei /.  ‘1

thing was.

There on the door, just under the painted
notice, some one had pinned a large piece of
pa r, bearing another notice of similar import.

t took but a glance at it to take in its word-
ing, and all who read it appreciated the joke in-
stantly. ‘.

The per contained these words, thus rudely

rin :
p “NOTICE.

“Thar is a latttr in this offis far; galoot callnd
EnEazEa BROWN. Any parsms 1:110th hm, plans!
tall hi! or this rack. Ttn llttur is important.”

Poor Eleanor! His friends were not happy, it

seemed. unless they were in some way or another. 

trying to get a little fun out of him.

Eleazer. as we have said, visited the pesto  '

office every night of the week except Sunday
{lights and almost every night he received a
otter.

And his friends rightly guessed that nine

times out of ten the letter was from Trypbena   2

Marks.

His regularity in calling at the office was well
known, and now this notice was putu by some
one of his mine companions, to crea
fun at his expense.

The mail had recently arrived, and in a few
minutes Eleazer was seen coming down the
street. .

He always waited until the mail had arrived,
in order to give the impression that his letters

came with it. and were not drop-letters, as his '

friends supposed

When he reached the oflce he wondered a lit- « I

such a crowd was there, but when he
theater, and saw the notice, he saw it

tle wh
tu

all.
For the first time, almost, he showed signs of ‘

anger.

I

nthe,

a little _

, Thi h‘e thou ht,was marrying a poor joh- 
justa J‘ttletoo ar. 

."'
.A

k.

‘1'

i»,

’ r

' «a.

fi  i, ‘

,mgi .. ...

 

. . . -. g '-.. .. m: 
vim ‘Qc‘vm-tmmncpmmwm Wf-M'

..a ;.v~.~... va a... .

 

§‘18

Rainbow Rob.

 

, , With flushing face be rushed up the steps and
x tore the offending notice down With one spiteful
l jerk and then turning to the crowd, exclaimed:
‘= “ ome folks is too might smart ter live long!
3 It’ll be a rich joke on th fe ler that stuck this
“ up, if there ain’t a letter here fer me; an’ I hope
. to th’ Lord ther’ ain’t!”

, , h“ Ha ha, ha!” roared the crowd, and a voice

s on :

, . , “Oh! but there is one thar, Ele, as you kin

5 v ‘ safely gamble!”

And the crowd laughed again.

Eleazar tore the notice into bits and cast them
to the wind, and then entered the office.

“ Hello! here; comes Eleazer, right on time!”
I was his greeting within.

, s ' This was from the one who had put the notice
7 " up. And he added: .

.’ “ I told th’ boys, when I see’d that ar’ notice on
i ; th’ door: ‘ Boys,’ sez I, ‘ ye needn’t trouble yer-
‘ selves ter put up a notice for Eleazer. He’s
,_ bound ter be here, rain or shine.’ ”

 l I “ Oh, yes, I’m allus on hand!” Eleazer an-

"’ swered with an attempt at a smile.

A “ An d’ye reckon she’s writ ag’in so soon?”
* “ Shouldn’t wonder a bit. She’s awful fond 0’
me is that sister 0’ mine.”
‘1 Sister I Ha, ha, ha! That’s tb’ fu’st time
We ever knowed Tryfeener was er sister.”
“ Try hena be darn!” cried E eazer. “I ain’t
talkin' ’ ut her I”
' " “ Ho, ho, ho! That’s too thin! Why that leetle
al is t gone on you, an’ we know it. Them
otters s from her, an’ nobody else. Ye da’sn’t
show as th’ ’scri tion, I bet!”
“You kin bet won’t anyhow! It is nobody’s
my letters comes from,

0..

."i ‘ business where
'3' , reckon.“

 “Thar, thar, Ele, don’t git mad. I was in
 lovo once in self, have been thar sev’ral times
<3 in fact. is heur old heart 0’ mine is all
scarred up. I know jist how ’tis. Have ye
called on her lately?”

“ Called on who? Who’re ye talkin’ about,
, anyhowi”

n, ‘.  , . . “ Tryfeener, of course.”

“ No, I ain’t. I don‘t reckon 1 shall, either.
An’ I hope some time you fellers will git tired
an’ 've me a rest about her.”

,., “ 00 bad, too bad! Ye’d orter go ’round an’

{:13 .“ see her once in a while, Ele, an’ sort 0’ cheer her

 ‘ ' ‘ up. If ye only—”

 i , “'Oh! let up!”

' ‘ ' “ Ha, ha, ha!” from the crowd.

. , Eleanor tried to take it all as good-naturedly

 ' as ible, but that notice on the door was a

“'ij.  litte more than he could stand and keep his

’ ~ ' mper.

, Presently the office was 0 ned, and;then the

*I ~, crowd formed in line and van .

‘ . Eleazer’s turn came present! , and he raised
.’ himself up on his toes and inqu red:

‘ “ Eleazer Brown?”

There was the letter, sure enough, and the
little postmistress handed it out face downward,
as usual. -

" Ha! he’s got it, boyees, sure pop!” the man
'behind him called out at once.

“Whar from? Did ye see th’ writin’?” etc.,
,were the cries from every side.

“ From Tryfeener. as usual.”

Another burst of Ian hter followed, and
Eleanor hastily thrust the etter into his pocket,
left the omce, and hurried of! to his boarding-

‘ place. ,
“ Arriving there, he hurriedly sought his room,
. locked the door, lighted his lamp, and then
opened the letter an roeeeded to read it.
It was indeed from ryphena, and it was al-
most smothered in forget-nie-nots.
“'Lordy! Iain‘tds’ter see th’ posies!” Eleanor
., '2 a  “ of ’em! Fer 't-me-nots I
 V,“ ’lieve they call ’em. Lordy! a eller couldn’t
‘i fsflt Tryphena; she won’t ve him time.”
v \ nd in this letter the ove«sick maid had

 

 
 
  
 
     
   
   

. -‘ It was longer than usual, more highl scented,
‘ all ble, fairly bubbled over wit tender
A . ‘ es of love, and the endearing terms em-
’ ‘ {ed were legion.
, cl ended thus:

' a“ , “ Ice is cold and so is snow;
. You’re the sweetest man I know.
" Turns“ Mun."

“ Lord bless me!” Eleaner gasped, “ but she’s
. ttin’ worse an’ worse! I won or how long it
.  V kes this complaint to run its course? Is it
 l’.‘ anythin like th’ measles? Confound it! wli
 _, ff," wasn’t as e built after th’ same model I was?
‘ believe I’m be 'nnin’ ter git a little in love
ag’in myself, an if she was only a. little shorter.
or I was a little longer, hang me if I wouldn’t
marry her. As it is—oh lord!
r “ But, it’s no use. Th’ more you side up
' Tryphena, tb’ more I’m goin’ ter shy off; an’ if
r , you side up too much; by hokey I’ll shy of! fer
rts unknown. If this ll end when leap-year
s, I wish tor goodness th’ year was nearer
out than it is. I’m actually gittin’. afeerd 0’
that gal. an’ if I don’t keep in; top eye open
wide she’ll corral me yet, sure as.
, “ Not that I don’t like ye‘ Try one. for I do;
 but you’re too big. I couldn’t love! all of ye at
- one settin', be no use ter try. I’m sorry for ye,

 

 

 

right: an; r. .
, I»' . *

Try hena, I swear to goodness I am: but what
kin do? I’d like ter ‘ease th’ longin’cof yer
heart,’ and let ye ‘ lay yer head upon my man]
breast,’ but I fear I never shall, unless ye git
me foul. ‘ Only one little line is all ye ask,’ but
that’s too many. I’m too old a bird ter commit
myself on paper, you bet! I hope yer heart
won’t break, fer that would be bad; but really
I don’t see how I’m ter help it. I can’t help
it, not ’thout runnin’ inter danger, an’ I don t
want ter do that.

“How sweet this letter smells! an’ what'real
purty posics, too! I hate ter burn it, I swear to
goodness I do! but I’ll have ter do it, so here
goes. Good-night, Tryphena!”

As he spoke he held the letter in the flame of
the lamp, and in a few moments it was reduced
to ashes, as all its predecessors had been.

Then, with that great care removed from his
mind, Elearer sallied forth to enjoy the even-

in .

In the mean time the shades of evening had
deepened into shades of night over Silver Nug-
get, and at last the crowd in front of the post-
oiflce was rewarded.

As the darkness deepened, the luminous paint
began to glow, until finally the notice could be
read in words of fire.

The two night watchmen were on hand, curi-
ous to see whether the wonderful paint would or
would not prove the truth of what they had
told concerning it.

“ There!” exclaimed the one who had been the
first to discover the notice, “ now ye see it fer
yerselves, don’t ye?”

“ Not quite as bright as it was when we first
seen it, though,” remarked his comrade, “ Joe.”

“No, not quite, that’s so.”

This was true, but it was no doubt owing to
the fact that the street was not so dark. There
were street-lamps, and lights in every window
along the main street.

There the notice was, though, plain to be seen,
and it was the wonder of the hour.

Who could “ Samuel 'Dunton ” be?

That was the question on all lips.

And why was be advertised for in such a
peculiar way? And who had put the notice up?

uestions no one could answer.

he crowd changed constant] ,'as people came
and went, but after two hours ad passed it was
scarcely less large than it had been at first.

There was somethin fascinating about the
mysterious notice. he fiery words seemed to
burn themselves into the reader’s brain, and to
hold his attention in a way that was beyond his
power to resist.

Who could Samuel Danton be?

The qpestion was upon everybody’s lips, and
if the t eory agreed upon by Judge Lawrence
and the postmaster was a correct one, whoever
it was wanted to reach Samuel Dunten was
likely to do so, if such a man lived and was any-
where in the State; for thousands of rsons
had seen the notice, and it was the tal of the
town.

Late in the evening, when the crowd was
about gone, a young man came down the street,
walking leisurely.

When he reac ed the post-office he lanced at
the remnant of the crowd, and then ooked the
other way to find what they Were gazing at.

There the m sterious notice was, burning
more bri htl t n it had been at any other

mg (1 e] evening. , f n it

einstantt e oun manse es 9 upon ,
he stopped short. y g y

“ A etter for Samuel Dunton!” he exclaimed
under bls breath, “what can it mean? Is it a
trap?” \

Afteiegazing at the notice for a few minutes,
be onto into conversation concerning it with
the men who stood near, one of whom happened
to be the night watchman who had first seen it,
and in a short time he knew all the little that
was known about it.

The young man presently passed on, but as he
went away he mu : >

“ A letter for Samuel Dunton, an im rtant
letter, and all this trouble and myutery a. ut it.
What can it mean? I will know. his mght
that letter shall be called for.”

 

CHAPTER XXIII. .
SULPHUR 5AM IN TOWN.

AND it was on this evening at an .early hour,
that Ivan Oswald called at the Lawrence resi-
deuce.

He had resolved to put his fate to the test. He
hart! resolved to ask Lulu Lawrence tobecome his
w e.

He was cordially received, as usual, and Lulu’s
pleasant manner gave him encouragement.

At last at what he considered agsqpportune
moment, he asked the momentous qu on.

Lulu’s manner changed at once. a

of free, lau hing and merry, she be-
came sober and earnes in an instant.

And the change was so sudden that Ivan Os-
walggiessed the answer before it was spoken.

“ . Oswald,” L 11 answered slowly and
, “ I am sorry our friendship has led to

earnestl
this. I no idea that your rd for me was

anythingmorethan friendly. bile I regard

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you as a friend, and like on, I do not love you
and I cannot give you e promise you ask. I
can never marry you.”

We have seen Ivan Oswald’s character pretty
plainly, and his words and actions on this occa-
sion must be taken for what they were worth.

“ My God! you do not refuse me?” he gasped.

“ I do—I must.”

“ Can you not give me some word of encour-
agement, some word of hope?” u

“ No, none. My anSWer is given.”

The young man threw himself upon his knees
before her cau ht her hand, and madly, passion-
ately pleaded h s cause.

But it was all to no purpose.

Lulu remained firm.

Her answer had been erfectly straightfor-
ward and truthful. She id not love the man,
and knew that she never could. She liked him
well enough as a friend, but as a lover— No,

she could never consent to marry him.

More than this, and something she hardly
dared confess even to herself, her heart had gone
out to the daring young stranger who had that
morning rescued her and her friend Claudia
from the hands of the road-agent.

5 Yes, had she confessed the truth, she loved
Rainbow Rob. ‘

“ Mr. Oswald,” she presently said, “I hope
you will accept my answer as final, and that you
will let the question pass. It is useless for you
to insist.”

“ You drive me to despair,” Ivan cried, as he
rose to his feet. “ You have made my heart
change to stone. In life there is no hope for me
now. All, all is lost!”

At that moment Judge Lawrence entered the

room.

“ What! A quarrel?” be exclaimed and ques-
tioned in a breath.

“No, papa,” Lulu answered.
rel.” .

“No, sir, it is no quarrel,” Ivan confirmed;
“it is worse—for me. have, as you gave me

rmission to do, just asked your daughter to

ome m wife. ’

“Oh! a lIsee.”

“And she has refused.”

“ It is true page; I have refused. I do
:91} lpve Mr. Osw d, and I can never marry

1m. .

“But you will learn to love me,” the lover
pleaded. “ I will be so devoted, 30—”

“ No, no; m answer is final. I will not be-
come our wi e.”

“ T at settles it, oung man ” said the
judge. “You have eard the decision, and
there is no appeal.”

“ But, Judge Lawrence will you not use your
influence in my behalf? 1—”

“ N o, sir, I will not. I have no ob ection to
you, if you can win Lulu’s r ard an consent,

ut you must not look for be p from me. My
daughter is free to choose whom she will. and in
no case will I interfere unless it be to save her
from making what I mi ht have ood reasons
to believe to be a false sgep. No, sir; you must
plead your own case.”

-' “ And I have told him, papa, as plainly as I
can, what my answer is.”

“Then, Mr. Oswald the case is settled,” de-
clared the, judge. “I am sorry for you, but
there is no appeal."

“ I shall not give up hopes yet,” the lover de-
clared. “ You may change our mind, and—”

“Never, Mr. Oswald. he answer I have
given is flnalnand I ho youMill so censider it.

trust you Will never et the qgestion come up
again. As a friend I like you, at we can never
be more to each other than that.”

“Still I do not 've up. You will pardon my
hasty departure, hope.”

As he spoke, he was sidingetoward the door,
evidently desiring tqgive impression that
a? was too overcome to trust himself longer

ere.

“Certainly ” answered Lulu, “and we shall
be pleased to have Iyou can at any time. Now.
that you understan me perfectly, there need be
no interruption of our friendly regard. I shall
still look upon you as my friend."

“ Yes, call when you will, certainly,” the
judge echoed. “ You are always welcome.”

Ivan‘ Oswald bowed himself out, and in a mo.
ment more was out of the house and walking
toward his hotel with re id strides.

“Curse her!” he , “ she shall be mine.
She has led me onjhzt for the vain leasure of
casting me aside now. But I am no done with
her yet. 1 will tame her. By fair mean or
otherwise, I care not how, Lulu Lawrence shall
be m wife!

“ y heavens, she must be mine! My fortune
depends on it! The time for the opening of that
accursed silver casket is drawing near and who
can foretell what fortune she will fall heir to?
It must be one or the other of the two, Claudia
or Lulu, and it shall be the latter.

“ But the silver casket. Where can it be? It
is a mystery profound."

, When he reached thehotel he was in no en-
viable frame of . mind. and e went at once to

“ Not a quar-

his private room to censider plans for future '

 

action. .
‘ A short time later, for as we have said, it was

early in the evening, Rainbow Rob set out fm-
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19

Rainbow Rob.

 

 

the hotel with the intention of making a brief
call at the Lawrence residence. .

He had not gone far when he overtook Alvin
Howe and Claudia Madison, who were walking
slowl .

Rog spoke to them, and both greeted him por-
dial%

“ hat a silent fellow you are I” Howe ex-
claimed.

“ Silent? I?” Rob queried. -

“Yes. Miss Madison has just been telling me
about her adventure with the road-agent this
morning, and how you came to the rescue. You
said nothing about it, though you spent an hour
with me this afternoon.”

“ I never tell of adventures where the big ‘ I’
has to be emphasized,” was Rob’s ready excuse.
“ I am justly proud, though, of havmg been of
service to the ladies,” he added.

“As well you may be,” Howe agreed, “and
especially in rescuing them from so notorious a
character as Sulphur Sam. By the way, where
are you going? Or are you simply taking a
stroll, with no objective pomt in view ?”

“ I am going to make a brief call upon Judge
Lawrence and his dau hter,” Rob answered.

“ Why, that is just w ere we are going, too,”_

exclaimed Claudia.

“ Indeed! Then I shall have company, if you
will ,rmit me to join you.”

“ 8:; so, by all means,” Howe and Claudia
both invited. “ We shall be pleased to have you
do so.”

“And, indeed,” Claudia added, with a laugh,
“you cannot well do otherwise, unless you
choose to run on she .”

“ Or to lag behind,” supplemented Howe.

“ Neither of which I care to do,” said Rob,
" so I will remain where I am, since I have per-
mission.” ~

All this, and much more, in a chatty way, as

> they walked along; and they were soon at their

destination.

Judge Lawrence had gone out, and the young
people had the parlor all to themselves.

' ey sung and played, and made merry gen-
erall .

Ludl'u Lawrence could not, and perhaps did not
try to conceal her pleasure at being in Rainbow
Rob‘s company again, and the pleasure was evi-
dently mutual. .

They had been attracted toward each other
from the first, and it did not require a sage to
prophesy what their acquaintance would lead
to

The evening was a most enjoyable one to them
all.
Here were four of the heirs of old Barton

‘ Lawrence.

Rainbow Rob and Alvin Howe were two;

their secret was known to each other, and they '

had mutually agreed to make it known to no one
else.
Lulu and Claudia were the other two. and the
secret was shared between them on like condi-
tions.
The one hundredth anniversary of old Bar-
ton Iawrence’s death was near at hand, and it
seemed that some unseen influence was at work
brin ing his heirs together.
In is letter to his children he had said that
it would be his prayer to Providence so to order
the destinies of his descendants that when the
day arrived they should all be found in one
country and near to one another.
Was that prayer being answered?
Here were four of the ivin eight; the fathers
of the two girls made six; ry hena Marks, as
we have shown, was the sevent , and there was
yet one other.
Who was that one!
From what we havb let fall of a conversation
between Judge Lawrence and Henry Madison,
the reader has no doubt surmised that that one
was the Samuel Dunton, whose name was so
well known to the whole town, thanks to the
wonderful notice upon the post-office door.
If so, who was Samuel Dunton?
We shall see anon.
IZVhile the little party in the lor of the

wrence residence were in the mi st of the even-
ing’s pleasure, a pair of fiashin eyes were look-
in in u n the happy couples rom without.

' and hose eyes were those of the young man
who, later on, took such an interest in the mys-
terious advertisement on the post-office door.

“ There is that good-looking sport,” he mused,
“ making love to the girl he had the good luck
to rescue to-day—or to one of the girls, more

roperly. And if I am any judge they are in

ove with each other. I have half a mind to
try a shot at him.”

As he spoke be partly drew a revolver from
his belt. '

“No, it would not do,” he decided. “ I can
overlook his interference of to-day. but he must
not cross my path again. If he does— Well,
he will find that Sulphur Sam is not always to
be caught ofl his guard.

“ As to that handsome, queen] girl, he is we].
come to her. Tastes difler, an mine is for the
other one. decidedly. I would hate to mar that
railroad fellow’s happiness, but if that girl ever
falls in my way again I shall be tempted to

her 0 .
“What an uproar that would make! Ha,

\

 

ha, ha! The reward for the road—agent would
be doubled at once, and the case would become
interesting.

“ Where is the sheriff and his gang, I wonder?
I expected they would be after me ere this. I
guess I’ll have towake the town u to—night
and let them kn0w that Sulphur m is still
alive!”

 

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE GHOST AGAIN.

SAMUEL DUNTON, as we have now virtually
revealed, was Sulphur Sam, the road-agent,
upon whose head a price was set in nearly every
count in Colorado.

He ad never revealed his true name, though,
since becomin an outlaw, and few had ever
seen his face w on he was mounted as Sulphur
Sam.

At other times he entered the towns boldly
under an assumed name, and often when the
search for him had been hot amon
can ons, he was quietly enjoying his ill-got gains
in enver.

Leading such a life, we can imagine what his

suspicions Were when he beheld the notice, in most frightful ap

letters of fire, on the post-office door.
When he went on up the street, after his con-

versation with the group of men in front of the g white, glowing with a supernatural

post-office, he was determined to return and get
the letter. ‘

“ A letter for Samuel Duiiton,” he mused, “an
important letter and all this trouble and mys-
tery about it. What can it mean? 1 will know.
This night that letter shall be called for.”

He went on, crossed the railroad, passed out of
town and crossed the bridge that spanned Dis-
mal an on.

Then he continued on up the Old Trail for
some distance, finally turning to the right into a
narrow path.

A few minutes later he came to a clump of
trees.

Here he was welcomed by a whinny from his
horse.

“ Ah! you’re safe, eh, Black Satan?" the out-
law exclaimed, and 1going up to the animal he
patted its glossy nec .

The horse answered with another whinny, and
rubbed its nose against its master’s shoulder af-
fectionately.

At that moment a voice was heard, causin
Sulphur Sam to whi a revolver from his bel
and prepare to defen himself.

The words spoken were these:

“Samuel Dunton, or Sulphur Sam, I would
have a word with you.”

“ Who are you, and where are you?” the out-
law demanded.

He cduld not determine whence the voice
came. It might be above, below, to the right or
to the left, behind or before him; it seemed to
float in the very air.

“ No matter who I am, no matter where,”
came the re ly, “ I mean no harm to you. I am
hgg?! 30 tel you something that is for your

“ I take no stock in that,” Sam declared.
“ Sulphur Sam has no friend. His hand is
against every man, and every man’s hand is
against him. Do not so. you are my friend.”

“ I am not your frien , nor am I your enemy.
My position toward you is neither for not
against. Now, however, I am here to give you
friendly advice.”

“ If that is true, if you are neutral in your

ition, come forth and show yourself. I prom-
ise not to harm on.”

“ Ha hp, ha!’ came the hollow, weird voice,
in mocking laughter, “you could not harm me
if on would. Can u harm that which is
neither living nor dead?”

“ What do you mean?” the outlaw asked, and
not without a feeling of uneasiness creeping
over him.

“ I mean what I say; that I am that which is
neither living nor dead.”

“ Then what are you? Come forth and show
yourself.”

“ You do not realize what you ask. A sight of
me would chill your blood.” , v
. The uncomfortable feeling winch Sulphur
Sam experienced increased, but he showed a bold

ront. ‘

“ Never mind my blood,” he re'oined, “ but
come forth and let me see you. I 0 not like to
talk to a person or thi I cannot see. I guess I
can stand it if you can. ’ ,

“You are very bold.”

“ I am no coward.”

“ So I have heard it said of you.”

“ You say I am Sulphur Sam?”

“ So I called you; or, in your true name,
Samuel Dunton.”

“ You ma be mistaken.”

“ Ha, ha a! I know what I assert; there is
no chance for mistake. I do not ask you to ac—
knowledge vour identity, for I know you.”

“ And taking me to be Sulphur Sam, you say
you have som hing to say to me?"

“ So I said.”

“ Something a... is for my good?”

it Yes.” .

“’And' you declare that you intend ine no
harm?” . - ‘ .V

 

“ Such were my words; I intend you no
harm.”

These questions were asked with a urpose.

Sulphur Sam was trying hard to ocate the
direction whence the voice came.

This, however, he found it impossible to do.

It seemed to come from all directions at once.

“ Well, then,” he invited, “ come forth and let
me hear what you have to say.”

“ Ve well, I come.”

In this clump of trees all was intense dark.
ness.

No light could be seen in any direction, except
here and there where a star searched out a space
to 1peep through the dense foliagg.

t was so dark that Sulphur 111 could barely
see his hand before him.

How be ex ted to see his mysterious interlo-
cutor, when e invited him to “ come forth and
show himself,” he did not stop to reason.

In a moment more, however, he beheld a

c

; sight that for an instant sent a chill to his very

the hills and ‘

l
l

 

marrow.
As the words “ I come” were uttered, the out—

. law caught a sudden] glimpse of light a short
e

t, and then e beheld a
ition.

There, upon a ow rock, it seemed, unless the
figure was remarkably tall, stood a. form in

distance away to his

rescent light. It was covered from has to eet,
but through its white, winding sheet-like robe,
could be seen the outlines of a human skeleton.

It was the same apparition we have seen ap-
pear to Ivan Oswald.

With a snort of terror the outlaw's horse
jum back, and pulled hard to get awa .

“ id I not sa a sight of me would chill your
blood i” the aw ul specter asked. ‘

“ my blood is still running,” Sulphur Sam an-
swer . with a show of bravery he did not feel,
“and running warm. You startle my horse a
little, though.” And he tried toquiet the ani-
ma

“ I’erhaps I had better disa pear,” the
suggested, “ and talk to you mm the air again,

, as at first.”

“ No,” said Sam, “stay where you are and
say your say. My horse will be quiet in a mo-
ment and I am sure I can stand it.”

“Very well, just as you will. And now pay
attention to what I have to say to you.

“Foralong time you have been a highway g" pg.

robber. Your deeds have been bold and des-
perate ones. You have even gone so far as to
dip your hands into human blood. There is a
price u 11 your head in several of the counties
of this gate. The officers of the law are upon
your track. Is this not so?”

“ Go on.” '

“ You have just learned that there is a latte
at the Silver Nugget post-office addressed to
you. No doubt you intend to call for it. The

peculiar notice on the door says the letter is im- _

portant. You are curious to know What it is.
Am I not right?”
“ Go on, go on.”
“ I will. That letter is impo
point out to you the turning-paint of your life.
t will show you a glorious road to Reform. I

believe few people have seen your face to know a

on as Sulphur Sam, and that your real name
is not known at all. This is most. fortunate for
you, if you will only take advantage of your

0 portunity.

“ In that letter you will find a summons that
will 3 rise you. You may or ma
heard 0 the secret it will speak of.

refomi. ,

“Give u at once your resent life of dis-
honest an crime, come to ilver Nugget open-
ly as muel Dunton, start life anew, and you
{will have a fair chance to regain what you have
ost.

“This I tell you for your own good.”

“And what if I do not choose to follow your
advice?”

“ Then, sconer or later, you will surely b6
called 11 n to pay) the penalty for your crimes."

“An if I do 0 ey your—” -

“Then, as I said, you may h
And now I leave you. Go, wit caution, and
claim vour letter, and when you have read it
remem r what I have said. Grod-ni ht.”

In a moment, then, the light chang to dark-
ness. and the figure was one.

“You are in a rush to e off!" the outlaw ex-
claimed: “ I am not done talking with you.”
la“ Eta; ha, ha!”] c%me the weird, moc

ug r, seeming y outing u n the air“ a
then the words: “ It is not hypy)0ur will  I
am here. but by my own; and it is by my own
will that I go.”

“ By heavens, if you (‘on’t comeback and, all-j
swer a few questions.” Sulphur Sani cried. new
master of his nerves again, “ I will fire. a donen
shots in your direction 1” "

“ Ha, ha, ha!” the mocking laughter came
back. n0w seeming further away. ' ‘

hos 110--

rtant. It will V .

0t have
&, b all .
means obey the summons, and from that our ‘

,r 

i

 

in life anew. \ 

 

“Who are you?” the road-agent demanded. \ ,.

“ How do you come to know me!‘ How do you.
know the contents of that letter? How—”

Back again came the tauntin
still further aWay than ever, a

laugh, now 

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20

Rainbow Rob.

 

For some moments Sulphur Sam stood silent
in thought.

What could be the meaning of what he had
just seen and heard?

Surely the sight had been one well calculated
to freeze the blood of almost any mortal.

He, however, now that he could reflect
upon it, was no believer in ghosts and the like.

This wonderful apparition, whatever it had
been was, he believed, produced by entirely hu-
man means.

This being so by whom?

What man new his name there? and what
man was interested in his future?

These questions he revolved in his mind for
some time, and the more he thought the matter
over the more firmly fixed became the idea that
this was a trap.

If they, the sheriff and his men, could lure
him into town, they might figure upon an easy
ca ture.

ow, however, he was forearmed.

But, if such was the object of the letter, he
reasoned again, why had they taken the very
ate most likely to put him upon his guard?

his he could not understand, and this was
one int in favnr of the strange words spoken
by t e mysterious apparition.

For some time he studied wellthesituation, and
'then the dare-devil of his nature asserted itself,
and be resolved to ride boldly into town, de-
mand his letter, and then carry out his first ,in-
tention of “ waking the town up.”

Accordingly, he at once prepared his horse,
looked well to his weapons, and then mounted
and set out. \

At the hour of midnight he rode into Silver
Nugget, masked, and went direct to the post-
ofilce door, where the fiery notice still glowed
brightly.

 

CHAPTER XXV.
_ 'rwo MEN FROM LONDON.

THE reader remembers, in a previous cha ter,
the sending of a mysterious telegram to glow
York. ..

\Ve will now follow that telegram to its desti-
nation, since the interest of our romance de-
mands it.

It is an early hour of the forenoon, on the day
of September 16th, 1880.

A messenger boy is seen hurrying up Sixth
avenue.

Turning into Thirty-fifth street he hurries on
to No. 295, springs up the steps and gives a pull
at the bell.

In a moment a servant opens the door. '

“ J abez Howard here?” the boy asks briefly.

“Yes,” the answer.

“ Message fer him.”

The servant takes the message and the boy’s
book, is gone a moment, returns and gives the

_ hock to the boy, and the door closes.
' In a neat] -furnished library sits the man to
whom the te egram has just been delivered.

He is a man full sixty-five years of age. His
hair and heard are as white as snow. In ap-
Jfarance he is in feeble health, and he is a crip-
p 9.

This man is J abez Howard, the authorized
custodian of the now missing silver casket.

. Wiping his spectacles and putting them on, he
tears the telegram open and reads it.

“ Thank Heaven, my detective is meeting with
success at last!” he muttered. “I was almost

' in despair, but now, at the eleventh hour, as it
were, t e tables turn. McDonald is a man in a

'thou. , and he shall be rewarded as be de-
serves.

“ ‘ All is safe,’ he says; ‘ seven of the ei ht are
found. and lam looking for the one.’ 093 he

v mean the eighth one? or the one—him who play-
ed me false? I take it that he means the eighth
heir. His ‘all is safe’ seems to cover all the
other points.

' “ And now the great day draws near to hand.
What will it bring forth? Shall I find these

{eight heirs worth ' of the man who bestowed

upon them the con nts of the silver casket? I i

.hope so.

‘ ‘And Basil Howard—unworthy of the
.namel—the young rascal who so basely
deceived me, what of him? I wonder what
punishment will be meted out to him? He can-

I)not escape, for, as I firmly believe, there isa ‘

great supernatural agency at work in the case.

“I have almost proof that such is the fact.
There I was. right at death’s door, as I firmly
believe. I chose BHSII Howard to succeed me
in the trust of the silver casket, and gave up to

. He played me false, and at once I was
called back, out of the very grave almost. to
recover the casket and carry the work on to the

en . .

“Another instance is in the fact that all those
heirs, it seems, are found in Colorado, and all in
one town. It was the rayer of old Barton
Lamnoe that this should) be so.”

For a long time the old man sat thinking, the
telegram in one hand and his . tacles n the
other, and he was roused out of is reverie ‘only

. when there was another ring at the bell.

In a moment two cards were carried in.

_ Mr. Howard put on his spec’s and glanced at
them. and then ordered:

“ Show the gentlemen in at once.”

rain-:3 . , .

, The servant withdrew to obey, and the old
: man sat up in his c air in a more dignified way
3 than he had occupied, saying to himself:

1 “The two lawyers from London, eh? The
l affair now begins to assume a decided form.”

The next moment the two men entered.

They were about forty to forty-five years of
age, at a guess, and had the appearance of well-
to-do English counselors.

“ Mr. Andrews and Mr. Wilson? The old
gentleman interrogated, as he glanced at the
cards he held.

“ At your service, sir,” the two replied.

“ Allow me to welcome you,” extending his
hand. “ 1 am Jabez Howard, with whom you
have corres nded.

The Englishmen shook hands With him warm-
ly and then were invited to sit down.

“ We arrived by steamer yesterday,” said Mr.
Andrews, “ and stopped at the hote over night.
We should have notified you of our arrival,
but did not deem it necessary, after your invi-
tation to come to your house, which we received
before we left England.

Considerable conversation followed, forei
tothe interest of our story, and at last 'r.
Wilson remarked:

“Well, Mr. Howard, any new developments

in the case in which we are interested; and
in the interest of which we have come to
America?"
“,Yes, Mr. \Vilson,” was the reply, “there
are.
“ Ah!” from both the solicitors at once. “that
is good. May we inquire what those develop—
ments are?”

“ Certainly: and I’ll explain. You must al«
low me to do so in my own way, however. I
shall go back to the time of my severe illness,
five years ago, when the silver casket was
stolen.”

“ As on please, sir,” from Mr. Andrews.

“In 1875,” Mr. Howard began, “ I fell very
ill, and certainly expected to die. I hastened
then to do what I had before neglected; namely,
to appoint my successor as guardian to the sil-
ver casket and the important Lawrence trust.

“ I looked about carefully to find a suitable
person, and finally chose Basil Howard, a guar-
dian of. one of my elder brothers. He wasa
smart, promising young man. But, as I did not
know then, he was a rascal at heart, and 1 made
a great mistake in selecting him.

“ All this I have told you in our correspond-
ence, gentlemen, but I am leading up to some—
thin you have not heard.

“ s I said, my choice could not have been
worse; and had I d ed then, the silver casket
would have been lost forever.

“1 was seriously ill for many mont , but at
lastIgot well, and then I learned t t Basil
Howard had disappeared, taking the silver
casket and all the records with him.

’ “ Imagine my emotions if you can.

“Iat once employed an able detective, one
Martin McDonald, to take charge of the case.
I engaged him at a liberal salary, and he
promised to devote himself to the task—an al-
most hopeless one. I told him the whole story,
and gave him all the information I could,
which, owing to my long illnem having impaired
my memory, was ittle eiough; and sent him
out into the world to recover the silver casket
andlggce it again in my hands before October

, .

“ Imagine his task.

“For more than four years he has been at
work, and not until within the few weeks past
has he met with any success. But now our
efforts seem about toberewarded. .Here is a
telegram, dated yester y, which I received
only a little while bef re you came in. I will
read it aloud:

“‘ SILVER Nirooa'r, Con, S-‘pt. 15, 1880.
“ ‘ To Jassz HOWARD. Esq ,
" “ West 35m Street, New York:—
“ ‘ All is e. Seven of the eight are found. Am

looking for e one. I
" ‘ Mums MCDONALD.‘ "

“ You see, gentlemen, success seems to be
within my grasp at last.”

“ It doe deed l” Mr. Wilson exclaimed.

“ But,” Questioned Mr. Andrews, “ what of
the silver casket? How do we know where it
is? or that its contents are safe?”

“ I have im )licit confidence in my detective.”
answered Mr. oward, “and you see his words
are: ‘ All is safe.’ I fully believe he has recov-
ered the silver casket, and that it is now in his
possession.”

“ Certainly, certainly,” agreed Mr. Wilson,
' “there seems to be no doubt of it. And every-
I thing is due to you, Mr. Howard, and to your

untiring perseverance.”
“ It was in business to perSeVere, it was my
duty.” Mr. oward declared. “ Forty years
ago I took upon myself the obligation, sealing
my promise with a solemn and binding oath, to
, guard the silver casket and keep the family re-
! cord. For forty ears I have liyed in moderate
! luxury, support by the endOWment made by
I Barton Lawrence a hundred years ago, and I

almost owe my very life to the cause. B real:

not of my ‘untiring perse‘vsrauce,‘ Mr. Wi son.
, Could I havelbeen wice as persevering, yet I
would have been doing only my duty.”

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4 . .4 , ,_. ‘ . I k , , U I \H
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“Well said,” observed Mr. Andrews. “We
will amend Mr. Wilson’s remark, and say that
everything is due to your determmatlon to ful-
fill your promise.”

“ There is so little difference betWeen the origi-
naland the amendment,” Mr. Howard averred,
“ that I can accept neither. I was, and am,
striving to perform a duty.”

“ And with untiring perseverance," insisted
Mr. Wilson. -

“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Mr. Andrews: “and
with determination to fulfill your promise. Ha,
ha, ha!”

“Stop,” interrupted—or tried to—Mr. How-
ard, raising his hands, “stop and hear ire. Give
all the credit to my detective, Mr. McDonald.
Credit to whom credit is due, always. In this
case. he is the man.”

“ “'ell, well, 'ust as you will.”

And so their ttle pleasantry ended, and they
settled down to the business in hand.

“ It will be necessary for us to go to Colora- L

do, I suppose," Mr. Wilson presently remarked.

“Yes, of course," responded Mr. Andrews,
“,hnless thOSe in Colorado can be induced to
come here, which is not likely.”

“ You will have to go there,” said Mr. How-
ard. “and I must go, too, if I can get there."

“ When must we start?” inqmred Mr. An-
drews,

“ By the twenty-fourth at latest,” Mr. How-
ard declared.

TLe conversation was carried on to a great
length, but since it is as impossible as unneces-
sary to repeat it here, why dWell longer upon
the subject?

The two lawyers remained to dine with Mr.
Howard, and then returned to their hotel.

Five days later Mr. Howard received a long
letter from his detective.

In that letter the detective recounted what he
had done, and the objerts accomplished.

It was dated the 15th, and everything up to
that date was explained in full.

It concluded thus:

“I! t t ' ThaTis all. The place of meeting is the
Colorado House, in Silwr Nugget, Col., on Saturday,
October 2 i, 1830. All will be notified to he pnscnt.

“Respectfully, TIN MCDONALD."

Mr. Howard sent at once for the two lawyers,
and their plan of action was laid, as far as pos-
sible.

On the 22d they started for Denver, where
they intended to remain until the morning of Oc—
tober 2d, when they would go on to Silver Nug-

et.
g We have now followed that m sterious mes-
sage to its destination; introduce its recipient,
Mr. J abez Howard; made the acquaintance of
the two London lawyers, Mr. Andrews and Mr,
Wilson, and have shown our object.

Let us close the chapter and push\forward to
other scenes.

 

CHAPTER XXVI.
A BRUSH WITH THE SHERIFF.

WHEN Sulphur Sam rode so_boldly into Sil-
ver Nugget, midnight though it was, be fully
realised that he was running a great risk.

He was taking his life in is hands.

The sherifl', as he had sufficient and good
reason to believe, had not forgotten him. On
the contrary, he had barely began his hunt,

And the. reward offered for his capture would
make every man his enemy.

Straight to the t oflice he went, however,
and knocked loud y at the door with his re-
volver.

The streets were not by any means deserted,
and several passagers paused and looked at the
daring black rider in surprise.

In a moment a window was opened, and
Henrv Madison’s voice demanded:

“ Who is there? and what is wanted?”

“ You have a notice here on the door that
there is a letter here for Samuel Danton. 1 am

”

“But, this is rather out of regular oflice
hours,” the postmaster complied.

“ Can’t help it. _ I’ll give you a dollar,
thou h, if you will give me the letter now.”

“ h! I will oblige (you, sir, without reward,”
Mr. Madison said, an be shut the window and
disappeared.

Only a minute had passed, yet several more
persons had appeared u n the some.

None, howev r, ha yet approached close
enough to recognize the outlaw, even if any of
those present had ever seen him.

In a moment more the postmaster appeared
in the office with a light, and soon opened the

oor.

Judge of his surprise to behold a masked man
there.

The postmaster had the letter in his hand,
but befOre delivering it he stopped to ask:

“ You say you are Samuel Dunton?”

The light from the partly opened door fell
full upon the outlaw, and at that instant some
one cried:

“ Sulphur Sam!”

Without replying to the postmaster’s in-
quiry, Sam reached forward with a sudden
movement. snatched the letter away, wheeled
about and darted down the street like the
wind.

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The next instant a volley of wildly-fired pis-
tol-shots rung out upon the night air. _ .

No shot, however, took effect, and With Wild
yells Sulphur Sam dashed on. _

That portion of the town was soon astir. and
the cause of the excitement was quickly made
known. .

Sherifi Barkmore and several of his depu-
ties had been prepared for just such an event as
this.

They had had their horns ready for instant
use since the forenoon.

The sheriff was the first to appear, mounted.

“ Which way did the rascal go i” he de-
manded.

“ Straight down the street,” he was told, and
that was all any one could explain.

The sheriff blew a shrill blast uggn a whistle,
and it was not many moments fore he was
joined by three of his men.

And then away they went at full speed, in the
direction the outlaw had taken.

The night was dark, as has been shown, and
the chase promised to be a useless one from the
very start; but Barkmore had made up his mind
to give chase the very next time the outlaw was
seen, be it night or day.

And now on he went, fully determined to cap-
ture the road-agent if possible.

He had no idea that the outlaw would leave
the main trail until he came to the place where
the other trail branched of! toward Bonanza,
and perhaps not then, so to that int he and his
men rode with unremitting s .

Arrivin there they stop , and the sheriff
himself dismounted and paced his ear to the

oun .
Hoof-strokes were audible, but he could not

determine their direction to his satisfaction at

first.

Lighting 9. match, he examined the ground.

This gave him the clew.

“Toward Bonanza,” he said, and in an in-

stant he was mounted again and pressing on.

Some time later they stopped again, and the
sheriff listened as before.

This time no sound could be heard.

“The rascal has either stopped,” he declared,
“ or has distanced us badly.”

“It can’t be that, th’ ast,” one of his men
argued “ for we have been comin’ like blazes.”

‘ Mebby he is walkin’ his beast,” another
reasoned.

“ Or has turned off an’ rounded us,” suggested
the third.

“ Well,” Barkmore decided, “ we will press on
to the canyon, anyhow. Come on!” And on
the dashed.

ree minutes or so later there was a sudden
flash and re rt right ahead of them from the
rocks at the si e of the trail, and one the depu-
ties’ horses stumbled and fell, throwing its rider
over its head.

Instant] Barkmore and the other two poured
a volley 0 lead in the direction whence the flash
had come.

“Ha, ha, ha!” came the mocking lau h of
Sul hur Sam. “How are you, gentlemen ’

ith the words there came another shot, and
one of the deputies received the ball in the flesh
of his leg.

“ Want any more?” the outlaw declared.

“I want you,” was the sheriff’s retort, and
slipping from his horse he ran toward the spot
where the outlaw was concealed.

A few shot; from his deputies in that direction
warned him of the folly of that move, made in-
dependently and m such darkness, and he re-
treated again quickly.

“ Want an more?” Sulphur Sam demanded
a am, as be red two or three more shots, none
0? which. however, took effect.

The sheriff and his men remained for the
moment silent, and then a low whistle-signal
from Barkmore directed the deputies what to
do.

They were to surround the point and try to
ca ture the daring road-agent. /

he one who had been thrown from his
horse was unhurt, and the other, the wounded
one was still _ good for service, though his
wo ad was painful. . '

Thus they were, practically, four against
one.

,. All was silent' for a moment, except the
'in ht noises made by the advancin party,
angi then suddenly Sulphur Sam was eard to

explain:
ing to surround me, eh? Well, come
on and ll .try and make it pleasant for you.”
fio more was said, then, and two minutes

Then the sheriff’s whistle was heard, and the
next moment he and the deputies rushed for-

ward.

Then a curious thing happened,

The sheriff and two of his men laid heavy
hands upon the third deputy, and with revolvers
pressed against his head commanded him to sur-
render in the name of the law.

“Ha. ha, ha i” the wild laugh of the outlaw
came to them from some distance up the m1]
and then with a wild shout and a partin shot

“Say! dang it!” the captured deputy cried,
“let up! I am’t th’ road-agent; l’m Jake!”

There was “ tall” swearing done then, as may
be imagined, and for that night the chase was
given up. ‘”

Barkmore was all the more determined,
though, that Sulphur Sam should be taken,
and swore that he would be the man to do it.

Sadly disa pointed they returned to town,
with the un erstanding among them that the
particulars of their adventure were not to be
mentioned.

And now let us follow the outlaw.

For two miles or so he continued on at a live-
ly gait, then he reduced his to a walk, and
presently turned aside from he trail and enter-
ed upon an almost invisible path.

In the darkness it was invnsible.

Allowing his horse to walk, then, as in truth
it was necessary to do, owing to the uncertainty
of the footing the daring road ent made his
way toward t 0 secret haunts of t e mountains.

In about half an hour, or a little longer, may
be. he enteer a narrow pass between two tow-
ering walls of rock, and in a few minutes
eme ed into a small basin-like court, if so it
ma . calledm

ere he dismounted.

A faint light could be seen a short distance
away, and advancing to it the outlaw gave a
kick at the door of a rude cabin. .

‘3 Hello! hello!” was the instant response, and
the door was quickly opened by a rough-looking

man.

“ That you?” he med.

“ Yes,” Sulphur answered briefly, “it is.
Go and see to my horse.”

The man went at once, and Sam threw of! his
(hat and coat, stirred up the little fire, and sat

own.

This, for the time being, was Sulphur Sam’s
den, and the man we have seen was a rascal
whom he emplo ed to take care of hishorse,
provide food, an do other menial work.

“Well, this has been a night worth living
for!” the road-agent exclaimed. “ Such -
ventures stir up my blood, and put life into me.
I believe I was born for the very role I am play-
ing. I could not be contented in any other

plane.

“ Sulphur Sam, so they call me, and a very
suggestive title. Sulphur is often scented when
I am around. Give me time, and I will carve
my \name ug‘p the history of Colorado. I—
But, I have n warned to reform. I must see
, what is in this mysterious letter.”

Taking the letter from an inner pocket of his
vest, he opened it, drew forth the sheet it con-
tained, and read:

“ 17w. THOU ART ONE. 188).

“SAMUEL Dun'ron. thou art one of the present
eight livin descendants of Mr. Barton Lawrence,
w 0 died ctober 2. 1870. Thou art hereby sum-
moned to be present at the Colorado House, in the
town of Silver Nugget, on Saturda , October 2,
188), at ten o‘clock in the forenoon, ringing proof
of tny identity.

“ Remember the Silver Casket.”

“ Great Cristopher!” Sul hur Sam exclaimed,
“ what is the meaning 0 all this? Who the
merry imps was Barton Lawrence? and how
does an one know that I am one of his heirs?
Somebe knows more about me than I know
myself, it seems. And there are eight of us eh?
Who are the other seven? And the silver casket,
too. What is that? How can I be expected to
know everything about something I never heard
of before? There is a myste here.

“ And what am I to do a ut it Confound
it, I have taken a false ste , and now I cannot
take theadvice of my ghost y visitor if I would!
In calling openly at the postofice for this, I let
out my true name to the public. Besides, I cannot
furnish proof of my identity as an heir of a man
who died a hundred years ago, and I should
like to know of any one who can.

“ No; whatever this mystery, I am barred
out. I will preserve this notice, however, and
see what comes of it all.

“ And now to bed !”

_‘.__
CHAPTER XXVII.
meow son’s ROSE.

Wm must now go back a step and glance at a
wheel that revo ved within a wheel, as it were,
in a foregoin chapter.

Rainbow b, as we have shown, had deter-
mined to know more of the m rious events
that were ha pening at Silver

When he eft the Inwrence nee, on this

evening, and parted with Alvin Howe and
Claudia. Madison at the post-office, the mysteri-
ous nqtice upon the door there recalled to mind
his resolve.

instead of retirin to his room, as he had in-
tended doing, he stro led on u the'street.

When he had gone some istanoe hecrossed

o‘zer, and then came down again on the opposite
s 6. ~ '
Then it was that he saw something that
aroused his curiosity to the highest degree.
“Opposite to the post-office, standing well in

e s

 

from his revolver he darted away, the eavy adow of adeep doorway, was a man in
hoof-strokes of his horse echoing loudly. “ Ha, whom he was interested
ha, ha!” and he was gone. g That man was—one

'whom he suspected of

 

being Martin McDonald, the sender of the mys-
terious telegram to New York.

Rob passed right on, without even a glance to
show that he had seen the man, and turned into
the next street.

As soon as he was around the corner, though,
he stopped and then took up a position where he
could see that took place—or at least all that
could be seen in the darkness.

He soon found, however, that he was too
far away, and so stepping out he moved up to
the second buildin below the post-oflice.

This he was enagled to do without fear of be-
ing seen by the man he desired to watch, for a
crowd of men passed along at that moment,
and he found it easy to move along with them
to the desired int.

Once there, e was as well fixed as his neigh-
bor across the way.

The only thing he had to fear, as a cause of
disturbance, was the appearance of a night-
watchman.

They, as it happened, were too much engaged
in looking at the mysterious notice on the post-
ofiice door, and telling their story over and over
to the crowd, to pay much heed to what was
going on around.

And so matters stood when Sulphur Sam came
alon .

Wfien he passed on up the street. after his few
minutes' conversation with the men in front of
the post-office, he was followed.

He had gone but a short distance when Rain-

. bow Rob saw the man on the op osite side of the

street leave his place of concea ment and start
in the same direction.

“Hello!” Rob thought,“ here is something.
I thought that fellow was struck when he read
the notice, and now that man is going to follow
him. Ve well, my friend, you keep him in
sight and will follow you.”

A moment later Rainbow Rob was
the same direction. ,

He, Rob, was not following the first party,
but, as he said he would, was looking after the
scoond one. .

And that man, as stated, he believed to be the
Martin McDonald who had left the telegram
at the telegraph office in such a mysterious
manner.

On they went, Samuel Dunton entirely un-
aware that he was being followed, and his fol-
lower ignorant of the fact that a third person
was shadowing him.

What came of it, so far as Sulphur Sam was
concerned we have shown.

going in
/

And Rainbow Bob, the <Tulip from Texas, was

a silent witness to it all.

While the conversation between the outlaw .

and the apparition was being carried on, Bob
slowly and silently made his way around to a
point behind the latter, and close to it.

He heard all that passed, and learned enough '

to confirm a certain suspicion he had formed.

When the aplarition disappeared from the
outlaw’s view, b was ready to follow it, if it
proved possible.

Sulphur Sam’s threat to shoot inthat direction,
however, caused him to seek the shelter of a.
tree, and prudently enough, too.

But no shots were fired, and Rob moved on in
the direction in which he had seen a shadowy
form disappear.

He had gone but a short distance, though,
when a hand suddenly clutched his throat, a
pistol touched his face, and a voice exclaimed in
a whisper:

“ Keep silent, or you die l”

But Rainbow Rob was not the man to be
taken completely by surprise.

The instant he felt the presence of the manbe-
fore him, even before the fingers clutched his
throat, he had a revolver in hand.

And the moment a
face, his own revolver found the face of his op-

poser.

“ All right, McDonald,” Rob whispered in re-
ply, “ I’m mum. Let go and put a'way your
gun. I’m Rainbow Rob ”

“The deuce you are!” and the hand and re-

volver were rem0ved at once.

cold muzzle touched his. ‘

«Sure thing,” Rob answered, as he, too, put . _’  I

away his weapon.

“ And what are you doing here?”

“ I followed you.” '

“ Followed me! Where did you follow me
from?”

“ From the PM.”

“Thunder! is that so?”

‘6  is.” l

“ But how came you to know my name!”

“ I guessed it.”

“ Guessed it! Oh, come now, that won’t do!
How could on goes it ‘

“By adding fact to fact and circumstance to ‘
Two and two make four; four '

circumstance.
and four make eight: etc., adi Mum.”

“ But why did you follow me ere?”

“ To learn why you came.”

“ And you have seen and heardalli”

" I have.”

“ Well, you are a cute one, as I must admit.
Wait until
then we will have a talk.”

“ All right.” -

They had not a great while to wait, for, after

that fellow out there leaves,and 

 

   
 
 

'22

Rainbow Rob.

 

l

 

what seemed a long and careful study of his
plans, but which was only a few minutes of
actual time, the outlaw mounted his horse and
rode away.

“ Now,” said Rob, “we can talk.”

“ Yes; and now I would like to ask you why
you have an interest in me and my movements?”

“First acknowledge you are the man I take
you to be.”

“ McDonald?”

M Yes.”

“ And if I am, what then?”

“ Then 1 Will talk freely, and I think we can
come to an understanding all the sooner.”

“ But you have asserted that I am he.”

“ An so I still assert.”

“ Then why need I confirm or deny it?”

“ Because by doing so you will confirm my
,suspicion.”

a, “ Ah! then you only suspect?”
" “I not only suspect, but believe.”
_ “ And what understanding can we come to?”

“ I think we can work this case out together.
I may prove useful to Iyou, and you to me.”

“Not a bad idea. like you, and I admire

' your nerve. And, since you have (in interest in
‘ the game, I will trust you. I am Martin Mc—
Donald.”

“Shake!” Rob exclaimed, and extended his
hand

The detective took it, and the pair shook hands
warmly.
“ Does Sul hur Sam make the eighth of the
ei ht heirs?” ’ ob presently asked.
‘Yes, he does.” v
., “ Then you have found them all i”
.5 “ Yes.”
“I know who three of them are, then.”
“ Yes, as I am aware. Yourself, Alvin Howe,
1. and Sulphur Sam.”
,. “ Exactly.”
'_ l‘ “ Who t e others are I prefer not to tell you,
* at any rate not at present.”
\ “ Just as you please.”
“ I have my reasons for withholding their
a names.” --
'I', “ Of course. But, by the way, are on aware
 that Alvin Howe has no roof of his i entity?”
‘ “ I am aware of it, an I have found the proof
. he needs.” ,
a “I am glad to hear that.”
“ And your own?" ‘
I havo sent for the neces-

{1’ ' “Mine is all right.
“ .5 sary records.”
 r. “ Good! All the others are provided for, un-

less it be this Sulphur Sam. Whether he can

'3‘. prove his identity or not I do not know.”

‘ u ‘ “Do you suppose he will dare appear at the
j- '. .‘ opening of the casket?”

it? ’~ “ Why not?"

.1 g k . “ He will be arrested or killed.”
J- , r “ Not neCessarily so. No one knows that
,.- Samuel Duntou and Sulphur Sam are one and
-, , the same and if he uses proper caution in calling
3'... . . for that letter, no one need learn his secret.”
if}... f, “ That is not Sulphur Sam’s way. He is more
{It ", “ likely to Epte the post-oiliceasSul hur Sam, and
"l. ‘f-_ demand s letter at the point of t e revolver.”
~ “ The more fool he, then. I warned him to
is ' use caution, as you heard.”
;:. “,l “ Yes, true enough, but such men do not know
_ the meaning of the word.”
3.6,, ! “So it seems. Well, let him do as he will, I
,‘ have done my part.”
' ' It was an en, who painted the notice on

t‘ 
“a my“ °°"
“ And who delivered the mysterious notices to

 I», g . m?! Home and the others?”

“i

 

.. “ And it is you, perhaps, who know where the

,, 3.5:" , silver casket is.”

:3“: “ On that one point I must be silent, unless,
. ' later on, I decide totake you into my confidence.

‘..‘ ,. ; I will say however, confidentially to fiou that

 ,3 the custodian of that silver casket is r. Jahez

3%“ Howard, of New York.”

39:. " And you are employed by him?”
 i i “ Y“,
; I - “ Then I should naturally infer that the sil-
ei; ver casket is in New York.”

 ’ “ That would seem natural after my words.”
J: g _ “But I do not think anything of the kind.”

“ You do not?”
I “No. I believe that silver casket is here in
,, 1' »~ Cobrado.”
5. The detective laughed.
  “Well,” he said, “I cannot see why you
“ should believe that. But, it does not matter.
. ‘ Unless something of a ver remarkable ature
occurs thecasket will be orthcoming w en it
iswm .”

“Ihave no doubt of it. And in the mean
time on will remain in di also?”

“ as I shall remain in se.”

“ An it will be well, perhaps, for us to re-
main as strau rs.”

“Yes Ithin so.”

“ Shall you return to town now?"

“Yes; and We will 0 together as far as the
can on. There we w lpart.”
. “ ery well. Andes we walk along I will
‘  i tell on somethin about myself.”
 f ey set out, t. en, and as they went, Rain-
 j bow Rob made himself fully known to the do-

we.

 

 

 

   

 

“I am surprised and yet not sur rised,” 1110- i

Donald commented. “ But, I am g ad to know I
it. I will see you to—morrow, and will then take l
you wholly into my confidence. It will be bet-
ter so; for then, in case of accident or death ,
coming to me, you will be able to carry the 1
work forward to its completion.” '

So they talked, until they reached the canyon
bridge, where they parted, McDonald turning
intoa by-street and Rainbow Rob continuing
on to the hotel. __

CHAPTER XXVIII.
PROGRESSION AND REVISION.

SEVERAL (lays slipped by, bringing no events
of any special interest to those in whom we are
interested.

At Silver Nugget everything jogged along
with even tenor.

There had been few events anyhow, and none
worthy of more than passing notice in the local
in xrs.

I f those in whom we are immediately inter-
ested, however, we may say a few words.

Let us begin with our hero, Rainbow Rob.

He had made two or three brief tri . to
Denver, but still remained located at ilver
Nugget.

There was a loadstone there that attracted
him, in the person of pretty Lulu Lawrence.

He had made several calls at the Lawrence
residence. had been out ridin two or three times
in company with Lulu, and t e two were on the
very best of friend] terms.

Alvin Howe and laudia Madison, too, called
frequently at the Lawrence home, and on one
occasion, one evening. the four rode over to a
neighboring town some miles distant, in the di-
rection of Denver, and back again.

This was not done without some fear, on the

art of the girls, that they would again encoun-
Ear the road-“agent.

But Sulphur Sam was not seen.

He, the outlaw, had been heard from two or
three times during the while, making some of
the boldest robberies ever heard of in even that
wild country.

And he was still at large.

Sheriff Barkmore had make several more at-
tempts to capture him, but the outlaw seemed
to know just when and where to expect him
and his men, and kept carefully out of the

we .

(Inc of his robberies, the latest one reported,
was committed in open day, on one of the main
trails, and within half an hour after the sheriff,
with six men, had passed along on that very
road. ‘

This made Barkmore almost wild, and he
swore roundly, as he had been doin all along,
that Sulphur Sam should meet his ate and at
his hands.

But, a word more concerning Rainbow Rob.

Not only was he in high favor with the ac-
knowledged belle of the town, but Judge Law-
rence, too, was quite favorably inclined toward

m.

So, in fact, was every one whose acquaint-
ance the Tulip had made. ,

He, Rainbow Rob, had seen more of Detectivz
McDonald, and now hared with him the score
of the whereabouts o the silver casket.

It may seem strau e, at first glance, that the
New York detective s ould intrust so important
a secret to a comparative stranger; but he had
his reasons for so doing, and knew what he was
about. a

Judge Lawrence and the old postmaster, Hen-
ry Madison, met once or twice in the interval,
and their main subject of conversation was con-
cerning the silver casket. ‘

In fact it seemed as though they could think
of little e .

But they were no further advanced in infor-
formatiou than when they had discussed the af—
fair the2ilrst time.

The only new point the had was their well-
founded suspicion that ulphur Sam—Samuel
Danton—was one of the co-heirs.

This int though, amounted to little.

The go is Saint from Sfarecrow was still in
town, id iug away his tim . almost, as it seemed
calling upon the citizens to repent, and now an
again giving out a tract. 1

Interest in him had now waned, and he came
and went at will, without any attention being
paid to him.

Dan Gilbert was still around, though not al-.
ways at ni ht. unlem he could esca the vigilant
e e of his tier half, and was 1 as full of
b uster and blow as ever. ,

He still claimed to be the “ long-clawed griz~
sly,” the “ untamed hyena,” the “ devastatin’
cyclone," etc. ‘ .

But he had no terrors for Mrs. Dan.

She was a “ chief in skirts” indeed.

As for Mr. Down, of the red head—Ben Down,
as he was familiarly known—he ,was as meek
and lowly as be well could be since the gelling
take—down‘he had experienced at the hands 0
Mrs. Gilbert. .

Jerry Lynch was still on hand at the Green
Bottle, and the saloon was as po ular as ever.

And Jim Hogan and Mike 'nnie, who had

Ivan Oswald, the owner and proprietor of the
Colorado House, for reasons best known to him-
§elf,dhad offered bail for them, but bail was re-

use .

He, Ivan Oswald, had made two or three
further attempts to win the consent of Lulu
Lawrence to become his wife, but her answer
was the same as at first.

And at last, as he became so importunate as
to be annoying, Lulu forbade him the house.

There was now but one thing for him to do;
namely, to resort to the carrying out of the
threats we have seen him make.

And this he secretly resolved to do.

Havo we now mentioned all in whom we are
interested?

Let us 

Ah, noi Not a word have we said concerning
Eleazer Brown and Try hena Marks!

It would never do to cave them unmentioned
now

The affair between them was crowding for-
ward to a climax of some description.

Tryphena was growing desperate, and Eleazer
was almost crowded to the wall.

There seemed to be but one of two thin s for
him to do, and the choice was apparent y left
with him.

He must either marry Tryphena, and save her
heart from breaking, bursting, collapsing or
whatever ithwas it threatened to do; or else he
must throw up a good job with fair prospects,
and run away.

Of the two evils he knew not which to choose.

It was clearly evident, though, that he would
have to decide ere ion .

Every day he received a letter, and on some
days tWO' and he was actually growing thin
under the heavy strain.

His friends gave him no rest, and his life was
becoming a burden alm0st too heavy to bear.

One evening when he entered the post-office at
his usual hour, he was greeted with a howl of
laughter that shook the building.

“ Wal, ijjits." he demanded, “what d’ye see
ter laugh at nOW?”

“ Ho, ho, ho!” roared the crowd; and which-
ever way Eleazer chanced to turn his back, there
the merriment burst out anew.

On the little man‘s back was pinned a sheet of
pa r, upon which was the following, verbatim
et iteratim:

ETERNELL VIGYLENCE is Tan:
PRICE or LIBBERTY.”

In some way or other one of his tormenters
had succeeded in securing that notice to the back
of his coat.

“ We knowed things was gettin’ awful desper-
ate, Ele ” mid one, “ but we had no idee it was

a

quite ez bad ez this.” .

“ Bad as what 7 ” Eleazer demanded. “ What
be ye drivin’ at?”

‘

Why, we knowed Tryphener was after ye

Burty hot, but we didn't know that eternal vigi-

nce was th’ rice of yer liberty.”

“No, ner didn’t nutherl Speak out now,
an’ say what you mean in plain United States,
or else kee yer head shut.”

“Thar, t ar, Ele, d0n’t git r’iled; I mean no
’feuse I ’sure ye.”

“,T en what do you mean?”

“ Wal, when a teller comes ’round here with
a h’isted on his back sayin’ that ‘ eternal
vigi ance is th’ rice of liberty,’ he mustn’t be
s’prised if th’ ci sens seeit an’ pass marks.”

“ Great guns!” cried Eleazer, as e proceeded
to divest himself of his coat, “ye don’t mean
terrsay I hev got sich a notice on my back do

0

“ I reckon ye have. Ele.” ,

But by that time Eleazer had found it, and he
tore it of! with a jerk.

“ This is a condemned outrage i” he cried,
“an’ I kin lick th’ man what stuck this outer
me! It’s a dod-pasted mean trick! that’s what
it is: an' I kin chew th’ ears of th’ man what
done it! You hear me I ”

For the first time Eleazer was raised to
an .

H? stretched himself up fully an inch, and
looked his fiercest.

. “ Just show me th'
cried, “an’ I’ll give h m a chance ter whollop
me ’ you bet!"

he man was not forthcoming, though, and
in a few moments Eleazer cooled own.

He tore the notice into minute fragments,
and scattered them on the floor, remarking:

“ I wonder what next?”

“Th’ next thing will be a letter,” his chief
tormentor responded, “ an’ mebby two on ’em;
th' mail is 'most sorted, I reckon.

“Don’t be too sartain,” said Eleazer, “you
ma git left some time.”

‘ Neveri—nor you either. While Tryphener
kin pump her breath an’ sling th’ pen, you’ll
hear from her daily.”

“ Tryphena be darn i”

. “That’s all right. Ele, but I'll bet you will

marry her inside o’a w k.”

“ What? Mel Never!"

“ Ho, ho, ho! Yes you will, Ele, an’ I’m
willin‘ ter bet a fiver on it.”

 

declared vengeance so dire against Rainbow
Rob and the Spot Saint, they age still in jail. '

“ I take that bet," declared Eleanor, “an' all I '
‘kin git like it!” a , ,

 

cot that done it!” he 7 '

 

 

 

.. In?

 

 

n.
"5‘7 Mas.-

 

 

 

 

» be thine, forever, an’ ever, an

 

 

Rainbow Rob.

23

 

“You’ll lose, sure.” ,

“Will I? VVal, I reckon I’ll have somethin’
ter sa about it, won’t I?”

“qu won’t have very much fer say. I tell
ye when a woman makes up her mind to a thing
th’ way l‘ryfeener has made u her mind ter
have vou, somethin’ is goin’ ter done.”

“You see."

In a moment more the office was opened, and
Eleuzer received his regular letter promptly“

" 'l‘uat’s from her, boys,” cried the man Just
behind him.

“ Who!” was the cry.

“ 'l‘ryfcener, of course.
pref nine 2‘”

“ Ha, ha, ha!” the crowd laughed, and Eleazer
hurried away, glad to escape. '

Straight home he went, and to his room at
once.

“ Things is gittin’ desperate," he declared, as
he threw off his hat and lighted his lamp, “ an’
th’ Lord only knows where it‘ll end. I wonder
what she’s got ter say this time é”

He sat down and began to read, but_he had
not read far when suddenly his face grew pale
and he ejaculated:

“Great guns! she’s askin’ me right out p’int
She is, I swear ter good-
Oh, Lord! but

Don’t ye smell th’

blank ter marry her.
ness! Now, what am I ter do?
this is jist awful!”

He read a little more, and then suddenly let
the letter fall from his hands, sprung up, and
began to pace the floor. .

‘ Bless my soul!” he exclaimed. “but she 13
crowdin’ me. She’s not only asked me fer marry
her, but she‘s actoolv sot th‘ da ! Now, what
am I ter do? Dear ryphena, wish ye wasa
foot an' a half shorter, I swear fer goodness!
Then I’d marry ye, an’ marry ye willin’ly, too:
for han me if I don‘t believe I do love ye, spite
o’ in se f l

“‘ mine, oh! be inine,’ ye say, ‘ an’ I will

ever.” That’s jist
where th’ pinch is Tryphena, ’ you’re so much
th’ biggest. Oh, rd! what 3 all I do? Here
she sot th’ day fer next Friday—hangman’s day!
-—at her house, an’ at six o’clock in th' evenin‘
1111’ says I must not fail ter be there. ‘ThenI
can eat supper with my own wife .’ Big, might§
big inducement, I swear ter goo ness! but still
tremble. Hang me if I don’t believe I’ll skip' out.”

So said the letter, and a great deal more to the
same effect; and it ended, as usual, with a choice
bit of poetry, thus:

“Yours is not a state] name,

But I love you just he same.
“ Tamnu mm."

CHAPTER XXIX.
' noon N0. 22.

Ar an early hour one morning the town of
Silver Nugget was thrown intoa state of the
most intense excitement.

Murder had been committed during the night!

And the victim, almost the last person any
one would have guessed, was Henry Madison,
the old postmaster! _

Mr. Madison was always an early riser. He
was usually up about as earlyas any one in
town. .

In connection with his post office duties he
sold tobacco and cigars, and his place was al-
ways open early enough to mommodate the
earliest caller.

His daughter usual! rose an hour or so later,
and got breakfast y while he was sweep
out the office and shop, and doing other like
work arounvl. .

On this morning it was noticed that the office
was not Opened quite as early as usual. 1

Several men tried the door as they passed by
on their way to work, wanting to procure a
supply of tobacco, but flndin it fast they went
on, wand why the pea master was later
than his time. _

Finally, about the time that Claudia was get-
tin up, one of these callers gave the door a
311.19 and rapped loudly With his knuckles.
to go on with-

“ apal Claudia called, opening her door,
“there is some one at the door!”

She thought her father might be a,ng for a
moment, in the cellar or rear yard, I

But there was no answer.

Thinking this strange, she hurriedly put on a
wra and went down.
“ other must have OVerslept himself, 1 egg,"
she d‘emarked to the customer, when 9 saw
that her father had not been in the omce .1; 311.

As soon as the man was gone, she ran up to
her father’s room and knocked at the door.

1 .

112d th suddenly her eyes caught sight of
some blood-stains on the doorband with a M
of fear and horror she threw t 8 door om

Then scream after scapula] rose from up,
and she fell faintin to e oor. ,

There upon the god lay her dear father, dead,
his white heard all matted With blood, and a
f ' htful gash in his throat.

laudia had left the outer door open, and just

as she screamed so piercingly, two men cum-ed
the oflce. _

These two men Happened to be Shenfl Bark-

more and Dan Gilbert.

He, evidently, was not disposed

‘ out getting what he wanted.

 

“ Good heavens!” the sheriff exclaimed, when
they heard the screams. followed by the sound
of some one falling heavily to the floor, “ what
is going on up there?”

“Somethin’ is wrong, sure,” declared Dan,
excitedly.

“ You‘re right!” the sheriff agreed. “and
it is for us to learn what it is. Come on 1"

He, the shcriil’, led the way behind the coun-
ter, through a small room, out to the hall and
lip-stairs.

The sheriff had been through the house be-
fore, and knew its plan.

Nothing was found until he came to Mr.
Madison’s ovm room, where the horrible dis-
cover was made.

“Myy God !" Barkniorc gasped, “this is ter-
rible. Who can have done the hellish deed?”

“I—I don’t know,”

 

asped Dan, who was as ,

pale as death and was caning against the door E

for support. “ It is horrible.”

“That does not begin to express it,” Bark-
more avowed. “ And this explains the screams
and the fall we heard. Miss Madison had
just made the discovery when we entered the
oflice.”

“ You’re right; and I don’t wonder a bit that
she fainted.”

“ No. nor 1. Come, let’s lift her up and carry
her into the other room.” 0

Tenderly they lifted poor Claudia u and car-
ried her into an adjoming room, w ere they
laid her upon a sofa.

Barkmore proceeded to dash some water in
her face at once, to bring her to, at the same
time directing Dan to go and give the alarm and
bring assistance»

Dan went at once, and in a moment more the
news began to run through the town, and the
excitement began.

Who was the murderer?

That question was upon every lip.

In a very short time assistance was brought,
two women among them, who at once took
charge of Claudia.

 

about giving up, when a cry from one of his men
suddenly drew his attention to one of the doors
of the hotel.

“ What is it?” he demanded.

“ Blood,” was the brief reply.

Barkmore looked, and sure enough there were
the marks of blood-wet fingers on the edge of the
door, and also on the knob.

The sheriff looked searchineg at the propri-
etor.

Ivan Oswald returned his look with unwaver-
ing eyes.

‘h on see?" Barkmorc interrogated.

“I see,” the young proprietor ovmed.

“ And do you know what it means?” the sherifl‘
demanded severely.

" It would seem to indicate that the murderer
euiered my house,” was the instant response.

“ That is it, exactly.” Barkmore assured.

“ Well,” pursued Oswald, “I sup you
know what to do under the circumstances, do
you not?”

“ It is my duty to search your house, sir," the
sheriff declared.

“ You are rio ht,” throwing open the door.
“Go in, you and5 your men, and search the house
from top to bottom, thoroughly. And if you
find your man, drag him fort . I harbor no
criminals when I know it.”

“ That’s the right thing to say, landlord,”
Barkmore complimented, ‘ and shows you’re a
square man. Come on, boys, and we’ll seewhere
this trail Will lead to.”

The whole crowd, to the number of ten or fif-
teen would have followed, but the proprietor
protested, so the sheriff selected two men from
among them and the others were debarred.

Barely fifteen minutes had elapsed since the
she'ifi' and Dan Gilbert had discovered the
crime, and the hour being early, as stated, very
few of thhe guests of the Colorado House were

up.

“Now, landlord,” remarked the sheriff, in-
terrogatively “ where do you suppose that man
can be, provi ed he is in the house? Where is

She, as fast as she could be brought out of one , the most likely place to find him?”

faint went into another, and it was feared the
shock would kill her.

A doctor was sent for, and after iviug her a
quieting powder, he ordered her to taken im-
mediately to the Lawrence residence.

He knew what friends she and Lulu were; and
knew that she must not remain where she was.

Accordingly, thither she was conveyed, as
soon as a carriage could be got ready.

And a youn man who had once acted as as-
sistant to Mr. ison, when Claudia was away
from home, was found and put in charge of the

roflicc. -

But the main point at issue was the fact that
murder had been done, and that the murderer
was at large.

It was an early hour, as stated, and before the
newihad spread far the local detectives were at
wor . '

One of the most ex rt of these was John
Barkmore the sheriff, imself.

Alnd he lost no time in getting to work to find
a c ew.

But at first no clew could he discovered, nor
anything that gave promise of leading to one.

Presently, however, Barkmore found a dro
of blood in the room adjoining the one in which
the deed had been done, and then another and
yet another, until .they led him to the door open-
in upon the hall and stairs. '

ing out, he examined the stairs carefully,
and found two drops more. ‘
- In the lower ha 1 was another, leading him
toward the rear.

This, for some time, was the end of the trail.

At length, however another dro was found
right in the middle of the floor of t e post-oflce
proper, and then some marks were found on the
rear window, which, by the way, was then no-
ticed to be unfastened.

This led the search out of doors.

Under the window, on the outside, were more
blood-marks, on the sill and the boards below
showi unmistakably that the murderer had
esca that wa .

There again, or some minutes, the trail was

Finally, though, searching further and further
away. another mark of blood was found.

This time it was upon a step of the rearpiam
of the Colorado House.

This hotel, it will be remembered, stood ad-
joining the post-ofilce. -

About the time that last tell-tale mark was
discovered, Ivan Oswald, the proprietor of the
ho came out.

“ hat is this I hear—Henry Madison mur-
dered?” he cried. ’

“Yes,” re. nded Barkmore, “and here is a
trailkgf bl that has led us here. See that
mar

“ Sure . enough i” the proprietor exclaimed.
“ Whoever it was must have run out this way,
crossing the piazza as a short cut to the street.”
This was so completely probable that it was
accepted as the truth at once.
1But ppwheretzielse on tab: piam, n01!"i at the and
w are open u n street, can a traceof
blood be found. p0 f.‘ ‘
This was discouraging, and Barkmoro
.- I , I

, half-exclaimed.

 

“9

“ Your questions astonish me,” the proprietor
“ Not bein a murderer my-
self, and having never had t e acquamtance of
such, I know nothing about their ways.”

“ Be pardon,” the sheriff said quickly, “but
you di n teatch my meaning. I merely— But,
no matter, we wil hunt around and see w
we can discover.”

“ That is the right thing to do. Go ahead; the
house is open to you.”

The searchers were the sherifl, Dan Gilbert
and one other. .

The Colorado House was finely furnished, all
its halls and stairs being carpeted heavily, and
its halls being rather dark, any stain of blood
would be hard to discover.

This being the case, the sherifl produced a

lam .

All the lower main hall was examined care-
ful] , but not a trace of the tell-tale blood could
be ound anywhere.

Then the sheriff led the way to the floor
Pvae' h begi i despair f

gain 9 was nn n to o '
able to follow the trail' to ts end. bang

Up one side of the hall he and his men went,
and down the other, carefully scrutinizing the
walls and woodwork, and especiall the doors.

But nothing was fmmd, and ey were soon
back to their starting-point. '

Then they started along the hall in the oppo- “

site direction.
For some distance the result of their hunt
herewasthesame as it had been intheother

end.

Suddenly, though, Barkmore stooped down
biafmie a certain' door and held his lamp yet more
c one y. ,
to'lihe'nk he motioned for Dan and the other man

00 . .

Theyhdid so, and nodded amrmatively.

On e white knob of this door, and alm near
the kfiyhole were two or three stains of blood
uum akab e.

The number on the door was “ 22.”

Barkmore blew out his light, and whisperigv ' 
V 

to his men to remain there until he return
went down-stairs. ,

Going at once to the office, he found Ivan 0s-
wald. and inquired:

“ Who occupies Room Number 22?”

The roprietor glanced at the register. ran his

finger own the page, found the number, and‘

answered: 0

“ That room is occupied byoRobert Ransom,
the sport who is called ‘ Rain w Rob,tbe Tulip
from Texas.’ ” ‘

CHAPTER XXX.
RAINBOW BOB ARRESTED.

J om: Rumour staggered back as though
he had received a blow in the face.

“ Rainbow Rob!” he exclaimed, “it cannot be

possible.”
a certainty,” the pram

 

“That is his room to
prietor confirmed. And then he asked:

“ Why, what about Room Number 22?”

“ We have traced the trail of blood to
mom," the sheriff explained. “ There arch
finger-«marks on the door 1” x

 

i
i
l
1
i

 

 

 

Jr»

 i":  -'
 .u ‘ .. g ;

yn}:

  

. ‘r"

 

‘ . answared.

, gentlemen, I

i once, an

24

Rainbow Rob.

 

“ Heavens! can this be true?”

“It is just as I tell you.”

“ It does not seem possible that that young
sport can bea murderer, and 1 hope he can easily
brush away the suspicion.”

“ That is the way I look at it, too, and I hope
he can easily clear himself.”

“ Well,” Oswald questioned, “ what are you
going to do? Will you rouse him up, or will you
wait till he comes down?”

“I shall rouse him up. And, friend Oswald,
I want to mention this: If Rainbow Rob is now
in that room, and responds to my knock, I shall
believe him innocent, no matter what the. proof
is. If he is not there, then it will look bad for
him. That fellow is no fool, and he would never
leave such a trail behind him. I mention this
confidentially, as my own personal opinion. If
there is proof, of course I shall have to arrest
the man.”

“I will not speak of it. And let me warn you
that if you want to arrest Rainbow Rob, fyou
will have to be almighty uick in doing it, i he
is inclined to resist. c is lightning, I am
told.”

“ He is, for a fact.
it, though.”

With these words the sheriff left the office and

I hope I won’t have to do

' went back up—stairs.

“ Whose room is it .3" asked Dan Gilbert.

“ Rainbow Rob’s.”

“ The deuce ye say!”

“ So the landlord says.”

“ I think ye’ll have ter excuse me, then,
sheriff, reall . Ther Tulip an’ I is pretty good
friends, an’ I d hate ter be present at his arrest.”

Dan was backin away as he spoke, but the
sheriff, with a revo ver, motioned him to stop.

"No on don’t,” be whispered, “ I want you
here. ou’ve witnessed this thing so far with
me, and I want you to see it out.”

Dan looked very much as though he would
like to get away, but he decided to remain.

The sheriff ad the best of the bargain, by
lon odds.

eeing that his revolver was in order, Bark-
more knocked against the door with it. ”

“ Hello! hello, citizen!” cried the well-known
voice of Tulip from Texas, “ what is wanted?”

' ‘ I want a word with you,” Barkmore re-
sponded. “ Open the down”

“ Who re you?” Rob asked.

“ I am heriff Barkmore.”

“ Oh! is that you, sheriff? Good-morning!
Just a moment and I’ll let you in.”

“ All ri ht,” returned the sheriff, and then
taking a. rm hold upon the handle of his re—
volver, he waited for the door to open.

In a moment it was flung open wide, and
Rainbow Rob stood before them.

The sheriff was all ready, and had the sport
covered with his revolver instantly.

“Don‘t move your hands,” he ordered, “ or
I’ll have to drop you. I want to ask you a few

_ questions.”

“ Well, this is something of a surprise-party,

assure you,’ said the sport, smil-
in ; “and as you hold the bet hand, I suppose
1’] have to do as you say. Come in and sit
down, gentlemen, and then ask all the questions
you want to.”

Rob’s manner was perfectly free and easy,
and if he felt any alarm, he certame did not
show it.

“ No, I do not care to sit down,” the sheriff
“ I am here on business.”

“ So it seems. May I inquire what your
business is?”
‘,‘ Are you aware that murder has been done
in this town?” ’
“I am not,” Rob replied, his face becomin
more serious. z
“ Such is the fact.”
“Who has been killed?”
“ Hen Madison, the postmaster.”
“My 011!” Rob exclaimed, “you do not
'- mean to say he is dead—murdered, do you ’
As he uttered the words, his face turned pale.
“It is just as I tell you, ’ the sheriff assured.
“ Henry Madison was murdered in the night,
r and the crime was discovered a short time ago.
first by his daughter and then by me and Dan
Gilbert."
“ And what brings [on to me?” Rob inquired.
“ We sgspect you 0 knowing something about

" thedeed

" “ You'suspect me! Why, you must be crazy,

, are you not ’

“ No, air, we are not crazy.”
“Then what has led you to suspect me of
,Wing wine knowledge concerning the

e

" I will tel} you inpeéeiv tgorge. Halt;l an hon:
aoorless so u tepost-o ceto e
sgm’e cigar’s. Dag: Gilbert here entered at be
same time. We both noticed that the postmaster
was not up as early as usual, and there was no
one there. At the same moment we heard two
or three loud screams up-stairs. and then heard
somebod fall to the floor. We rushed u at
discovered the crime. Claudia adi-
son lay on the floor in a faint, and her father
was lying on the bed, cold in death, with a ter-

' . rible use out in his throat.”

eavensl but this is horrible!” Rainbow

3 u
‘ ‘, Rob exclaimed.

 

“ We got assistance as soon as possible,” the
sheriff went on, “ and turning the house over to
them, I and Dan and some others set to work to
hunt up a clew to the crime. Presently We
found drops of blood on the floor, and following
the trail carefully we discovered where the mur-
derer had entered and left the buildin . Then
we went out and followed it further. It led us
to a rear door of this hotel. We entered. We
followed it further still, and it led us to this
room.”

“ To this room!”

“ Exactly. See there, the stains upon the
door?”

“My God! am I awake, or dreaming? And
do you arrest me?”

“ I do. Robert Ransom, I arrest on in the
name of the law, char ing you with t e murder
of Henry Madison. 0t only is there blood on
the door of your room, but on the sleeve of your
shirt as wel .”

Sure enough, there upon -the sleeve of the
young man’s right arm, blood-marks were plain-
y visxble.

Rainbow Rob sunk down upon a chair, for the
moment completely overcome.

“I am innocent of the crime,” he declared,
“ as innocent as a child unborn. There is a
mgiery about it all that I cannot understand.”

ing that the young man offered no resis-
tance. when told of his arrest, the sheriff pro-
duced a pair of handcuffs and stepped toward
him, with the intention of putting them on
him.

Rob glanced up, a gleam of fire came to his
eyes, and he sai< :

“ No handcuffs for me, sheriff, if you please!
I submit to my arrest quietly enough, and you
will have no need for them. I am unarmed;
there hang my weapons in my belt. Do you
want me to go with you to the lockup?”

“ Yes, certainly. You must admit that ap-
pearances are strong enough against you to war-
rant our arrest.”

“ ey certainly are, from what you have
told me."

“ And I have told the simple truth.”

“ Very well: I take your word for it.”

“ An you will come with me peacefully to
the hill”

“ es: I give you my word for that. You
take charge of my belt and arms there, and you,
Dan, llilring algng m gripsacilk.” ped

‘ A ri ht, sai< an, as e ras the '
while thegsheriff took charge 0? the belt of 5518::
pons as requested.

“ And you will fiermit me to finish dressing,
sheriff?" Bob remar ed, in a questioning tone.

“ Yes, certainly,” was the anewer; “ go ahead
and do so.”

Rob did, and in a few minutes he was ready

go.

“ Now I am ready to accompany on,” he an-
nounced: “ but I have a favor to as .”

“ What is it?” the sheriff inquired.

“ Are you disposed to grant a reasonable
favor?”

“Yes, if I can.”

“Very well, I will tell you what I want. In
the first place, I want you to keep my arrest a
secret until on have lodged me in jail. I have
no desire to gaped at y the crowd as a mur-
derer. I will go with you quietly.”

“All right; I am willing to agree to that.
You hear, boys?” he said to Dan and the other
man.

They answered that they understood.

“ Don’t forget that I am armed, though,” the
sheriff cautioned.

“ You will have no need for your arms, so far
as I am concerned,” Rob assured.

"-I hope not, anyhow. Is that all the favor
you have to ask?”

“ N o, I have one other, and this is the favor.”

“Well, name it.”

“I want you to conduct me at once to the
place where Mr. Madison was killed, and as we
go I want you to int out the trail of blood
that led you to my oor. Will on do this?”

It was a request that surpri the sheriff and
his aides not a little.
What could be the cool 3 rt’s object?

But he, the sheriff, was nclined to favor the
risoner, since, as we have seen, he believed him
nnocent of the awful crime.

‘ ‘ Yes,” he answered, after a momentary pause,

“ I will. Come on.”

“ All right, and greatly obliged to on. And
now if you will allow Dan or our ot or man to
go right, on to the jail wit my gri , itwill
cause no remark when 1 start in that irection
with on.”

“ ery well, I’ll do that, too. Here, Dan,
you give the grip to Dick, and he can take it
ri ht down. want you to stay with me as
w tnesa.”

“ You mi ht put the belt and weanom right
in it,” Rain w Rob suggested. “Shall I open
it and let you do 30?”

“That’s a good idea. It will save me the
trouble of carrying them. Yes, open the grip
and I’ll put them in.”

Rob unlocked the gripsack and Barkmore ut
the weapons into it, and also some few 01: r
articles which otherwise would have been for-

getten.

 

 

Then the man called Dick took charge of it
and set out. -

The sheriff, Rob and Dan then proceeded
down-stairs and out upon the rear piazza.

There they encountered Ivan Oswald, who
was walking up and down and smoking a cigar.

“What!” he exclaimed, “you have made an
arrest, sheriff?”

Rainbow Rob was the one to answer.

“ Yes,” he said. “ he has made an arrest, land-
lord, but please do not let it be known at pres-
ent.
“No,” the sheriff added, “say nothing until
after the prisoner is locked u . He has re.
quested me to keep it secret unti then.”

“ All right,” Oswald agreed, “ I shall not let
it out.”

“ I’m sorry to leave your house. Mr. Oswald,”
the Tulip remarked, “ but our friend the sheriff
has invited me to at up at his hotel. and will
not hear to my eclining. My room here is
paid for for some days to come, so you may re-
tain it for me. I may not make a long stay
with the sheriff.”

“ I certainly hope on will not. at any rate,”
the proprietor respon ed, “ for I cannot believe
you guilty of the crime. I will hold your
room. ’

Rob thanked him, and then gave his attention
to the sheriff.

CHAPTER XXXI.
RAINBOW ROB AT WORK.

SHERIFF BARKMORE, accordin to his prom~
ibsle, liomted out to Rainbow R0 the trail of

00‘ .

First he pointed out the stains upon the rear
door of the hotel, then upon the piazza, and
then led him to the post-office window.

Ivan Oswald watched these proceedings with
no little surprise.

It was something new to see a prisoner doing
detective work. .

“ Barkmore plainly shows that he does be-
lieve him innocent, as he declared he should if
he found him in his room,” he mused.

At the pom-office window Rainbow Rob ex-
amined the blood-stains critically.

And his attention was fparticular] drawn to
one upon the front edge 0 the outsi e sill.

There. in the now hardened blood, was a per-
fect impression of the ball of a human thumb.
Every line of the skin could be plainl
circling from a common ‘center as the l nes on
the thumb do, and right across the center was
one straight line, a little deeper than the others,
showing what was evidently the scar of a cut.

This was something Barkmore and his men
had overlooked.

Nor did they see it now—as Rainbow Rob
saw it.

In fact, the latter did his best not to draw
their attention to it.

“Have you a knife handy?” he asked of the
sheriff.

“Yes,” was the response; “do you want it?”

“ A moment, if you please.”

Barkmore handed his knife to the sport, and
Rob, with a quick motion, cut a deep shaving
from the sill.

On that shaving, or s lint—as it was more
pro rly, waqthe mark 0 the thumb.

“ ow, sheriff,” Rob said, as he gave back the
knife, “I want you to put a mark on this sliver
of wood, so that you can identif it at any
time. It may be the means for ringing the
real murderer to justice."

“ All right, I’ll do it, and willingly,” the
sheriff consented. ,

“ Handle it carefully ” Rob cautioned.

“ All right; I think I see the point now, and
I’ll not touch the mark.” I

It was now evident to the others that some
clewlhad been found in one of the stains of
bloa .

Barkmore took the sliver of wood and out two
little nicks in one side of it, calling Dan Gilbert’s
attention to them.

“ All right,” said Dan, “ I see ’em.”

“ Well, remember them,” the sheriff en oined,
“ and remember where this piece of w came
from.”

“ Yes, do not forget that you saw me out it
from here,” supplemented Rob.

And Ivan Oswald, as he watched these pro-
ceedings from where he stood on the hotel stoop,
wondered what was going on.

Rainbow Rob put the piece of wood in his
pocket, and then the sherifl led the way iflto
the house. »

Here he showed the blood-marks he had fol-
lowed, as they went through the hall and up-
stairs and then they entered the room where
Mr. adison’s body lay.

The coroner had been summoned, and had
just arrived.

“ My God! but this is horrible!” Rob gasped,
as he gazed upon the victim of the heinous deed.

“ It is indeed,” the coroner agreed. “ And it
is well for the murderer that he has escaped,” he
added, “for our postmaster was almost loved
by the citizens here, and if he were arrested he
would be in danger of being lynched.”

Rainbow Rob gave the sheriff a meaning
glance, as he responded:

 

seen,

  

 

 

 

amt—1??? ~

‘ “has. 22

 

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- . . . , 3;. ‘ v .
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Rainbow Rob.

25

 

“I believe you are ri ht,” he said. “But, it
is not safe to jump too astily to a conclusmn,
no matter how strong the proof at first sight.
Many an iinpocent man has been lynched upon
mere susp c on.

“ Yes, yes, you are right, and I hope the law
'will have its own proper course in this case.”

“ I hope so, too, ’ the sheriff added.

“Has any clew been discovered?” the coroner
inquired. . i

‘ I have a sli ht one,” the sheriff replied,
promptly. “ I shall follow it at onca and see
what it amounts to.”

“ What is it!” .

“That I prefer not to tell, how. I Will give
you all the points I can at the inquest, how-
ever.”

“ Very well; that will be a more proper time
for me to inquire.”

“ Where 18 Miss Madison?” Rob suddenly
asked, as his thou hts flew to her.

He was told, an could not help feeling a high
regard for the doctor who had ordered her taken
there.

And then his thoughts turned to pretty Lulu
Lawrence.

What would her thoughts be when the news
of his arrest for the murder of the father of her
dearest friend should reach her?

He dared not allow the thought to dwell in his
mind. .

After remaining in the room for some min-
u'es. during which time Rob’s eyes were every-
where in search of some further clew. but With-
out finding any, he gave a signal to Barkmore
that he was ready to go.

The two passed down-stairs and out, followed
by Dan Gilbert.

They went out the rear way, and then across
the rear piazza of the hotel to the street on that
side.

Quite a crowd had now collected in front of
the house, and the sheriff wanted to avoid it as
much as possible.

He was as anxious to get his prisoner to the
an before his arrest became known, as Rob was
imself, though for a different reason, perhaps.

Rainbow Rob did not want to be seen, ub-
licly, under arrest just then; and the sheri did
not want to have it known that he was under
arrest, for fear of the crowd.

In due time they arrived at the jail, and the
sport was placcd in a cell.

“Anything I can do for you?” Barkmore in-
quired.

“ Haven’t you done enough?” queried Rob,
with a smile.

“ I have only done what my omce forces me
to do,” was the answer. “Personally, I believe
you are innocent.”

“ Do you mean that?”

H I do.”

“ Then I have not guessed  I thought
from your lenity toward me the you did not
believe me guilty of such a crime as murder.”

“You guessed ari ht. But, how are you to
explain away the trai of blood leading to your
door, and the fact that there is blood upon your
sleeve?"

“I cannot explain it away until I get upon
the track of the murderer. I can say now
is, there was no blood on m sleeve when I re-
tired to bed last night, and do not know how
it came there.”

“ It is a strange affair. But, is there no
errand I can perform for you? Is there any
person you would like to see ’ V

“ Yes there is one person I desire to see, and
I woul like to have him come as soon as he
can.” ,

“ Who is It?”

“ Alvin Howe, the telegraph operator.”

H All right, I wiilbliui’i’t bimup and send him
here as soon as p088! 8-

The sheriff went awa , then, Dan Gilbert
with him. and then one on it became known
that Rainbow Bob, the Tulip from Texas, had
been arrested as the murderer of Henry Madi-

n.
8on the town ha! been thrown into a state of
excitement wnen the crime became known, that
excitement reached its climax when this latter
report was circulated. .

At first no one would believe it.

An hour after the crime was discovered the
whole tawn was in an uproar.

Judge Lawrence, as soon as Claudia Madison
was brought to his house, and he learned of he,-
father’s sad end, left the house at once and went
to the scene of the crime. . _ I

He arrived there a few minutes a ter Rain-
bow Rob and the sheriff had gone, he was
there when the news of Rob’s arrest reached

bug. at k bless for the moment.
we speec
“ We is Barkmore?” he presently demand-

ed:
Just then the sheriff entered.

“ Here I am,” he responded.

“ I hear on have made an arrest,” the judge
said severeI .

“ Yes, so have.”

“ You have arrested Robert Ransom, a most

estimable young man.”
H I ve n .

“ May [inquire why?”

 

The sheriff ex lained, and the face of Judge
Lawrence turn pale as he silentl listened.

“The evidence is damning,” he nally admit-
ted “ but I do not believe the you man is
gui ty. Nothing short of a confession rom him
will make me believe it. I shall go and see him
at once.”

And he did.

Within half an hour he had seen Rob, and
would then have staked his very life upon his
innocence.

True to his word Sheriff Barkmore sent word
to Alvin Howe w t had taken lace, and as
soon as he possibly could do so t a young rail-
road man called at the jail.

“My God! Rob!" he exclaimed, “ what is the
meaning of this?"

“ Circumstantial evidence,” Rob replied.

“ But, can you not refute the charge, and get
out of here?”

“ No, not at present. The evidence that led to
my arrest is powerful.”

“ But you are in no danger!”

“No, not the least. I could demand my re-
lease, if— But you will learn of that later.
As it is, I must content myself to remain here
for a few days.”

“ And what do you want me to do for you?”

“In the first lace I want you to at a brief

note ’to Martin cDonald, the New ork detecv
tive.’

“Ha! you have found him out?”

“ Yes.’

“ But how can I find him?”

“ I will tell you presently.”

“ On! all ri ht.’

“ And next. want you to send some telegrams
for me. Have you paper and pencil handy?”

“ Yes, I have both."

“ Let me take them then, and I will write
what I desire to say. Perhaps you are in a
huri though.”

“ o. I am in no hurry, so take your time."

Rainbow Rob proceeded then to write the
note for Detective McDonald, and then some
telegrams.

“ Now,” he said, when he had done, “ here is
first the note for McDonald. Give it to ——-,”
mentioning a name in a low tone, “ and be sure
it falls into no other hands.”

“What!” exclaimed Howe, “is he the detec-
tive?”

Rob smiled, but did not confirm the suspicion
by admitting it otherwise.

“ Do not mention your suspicions,” he said.
And then he added:

“ Here are the telegrams. Please rush them
forward as soon as you get back to your office.”

“I will do so.”

“ Have an seen Claudia?”

“Yes; went to the Lawrence residence be-
fore I came here."

“ How is she?"

“ She was then conscious, but the doctor was
still there with her. Poor girl! it was a terrible
shock to her. ”

“ And Lulu— Had she yet heard of my
arrest?” ,

“ She learned of it while I was there, and with
a scream she fainted dead awav."

“ Poor girl! I am sorry, and yet it gives me
jo to hear these words.”

n a shorttime Howe went away. and soon
afterward Lulu Lawrence called at the jail,
alane. and spent half an hour in Rob’s company.

 

. CHAPTER XXXII.
a PRISONER EBOAPES.

Two or three days passed.

Rainbow Rob was still in the toils but his
case had not b any means reinainei idle.

He had rece ved a reply to his note to Martin
McDonald, in which t e detective promised to
carry out certain plans which he, Rob, had sug-

gested. .
And, too, he had received answers to his tele-

ams.
In the forenoon of the da to which we have
my Madison was

now moved forward,
buried.

The funeral was a large one, and his daughter
Claudia, though almost crazed with grief had
so far recovered from her shock as to be able to
attend, in company with Lulu Lawrence.

But. she would not return to the house where
the crime had been done.

Miss Lawrence sent a servant, therefore. to
take char of it, and the oung man we have
mentione before remain in the post-office.

For the present Claudia determinedto remain
at the Lawrence residence.

And in the afternoon of the same day the in—
quest was held. ,

It was not of long duration.
And the evidence against Rainbow Rob was
so strong that the coroner’s jury could do
itigthifiig but sustain the charge and remand him
a . ' .
ob had no defense whatever save his state.
ment that he had retired to bed at a certain
hour. was not out of his room after that, and
did not know low the blood-stains had come up-
on his sleeves. _
Another point against him was the fact that a

i

 

 

blood-stained knife had been found in the chim-
ne —hole in Room Number 22.

The town was about equally divided in its
opinion of his innoccnce or guilt.

The fact that he was an entire stranger there
went against him not a little.

Earl in the evening there was a call made at
the jai b a man whom we have met; namely,
the Spot aint from Scarecrow.

He was clad the same as ever, and still carried
his un ainl docking car1pet-bag.

“ hat 0 you want ’ the jailer demanded,
when he presented himself at the door.

“I have come to see that young murderer,”
the S ot Saint answered.

“ hat d’ye want to see him for?”

“ I want to urge upon him to confess his
crimes and repent. Especially re nt. And I
have some tracts that fit his case a mirabl .”

“Well, on can’t come in, so you had tter
make trac s and take yourself off.”

“Oh! but I must come in, my good man. I
am engaged in a good work, and you should be
only too glad of the opportunity to render me
some assistance.”

“ Mebby I should. Mr. Scarecrow, but I ain‘t,
and that makes a difference. You can’t come
in, and that settles it.”

“Oh! thou blind sinner! repent.”

“ Nary; you‘ve heard my sa , so now git.”

“Won’t you ive me just ve minutes with
the prisoner, if no longer?” the Spot Saint

u .
No,” was the answer, “nor one minute.
The risoner don’t want to see ye.”

“ ll bet he’ll say let me in, if you tell him
who I am.”

“I’ll bet he won’t, then. He’d say fire you
out.”

“ I will give you a dollar if you will go and
askwhim, and you may give me one if he says
no.

“ That’s about the same as a bet.”

“ “7 ell, call it that if you want to.”

“ Well,just to get rid of you I will ask him.”

“And if he should say let pe in, then will
you do so!"

“Yes, if he says let you in, in you shall
come.”

“Thanks, my Christian friend; many, many
thanks. You are not wholly bad.”

The jailer Went at once to Rainbow Bob‘s
cell, and said: \

“ There’s a critter out here wants to see you.”

“ Who is it?” Rob inquired.

“It is that crank the boys call the ‘Spot
Saint.’ Shall I fire him?"

“ What does he want?”

“Oh! he wants to talk repent to you, and
give on some tracts.”

“ 'ell, let him come. I guess I can stand it,
and it will help to pass away time. YeIJet
him come.”

“ All right, it’s your funeral.”

Back then the jailer went to the door.

“ Well," the Spot Saint inquired,” what does
he Sig?”

“ e says let you come. He is awful lone-
some, I reckon, and wants to be amused.”

“Ah! I am glad to hearthls. It shows that
his conscience troubles him, and that he wants
to repent. Show me in.”

Visitors were allowed at that early hour any-
how and the jailer had really no right to bar
the Saint out.

He 0 ned the door and led the way tothe
cell 11%: occu ied, and allowed him to Sugar-.8

nt. 0 sinner, repen repent! t e -t
Saint e‘fclaimed, as he stepped in. p

“Do on think I am guilty, then, mygood
sirr’Ro asked.

“ It certainly looks that way,” the Saint d9
clared: “and I have come to talk with on
about the unCertaint of life and thece nty
of death, and sofort , and to give you a few
choice tracts. 1—”

“Say,” the jailer interrupted, “when you
want to t out, rattle the door.”

“All right, frith all ' ht,”said the Saint,
“ I will do so.” And then
horting to Rob.

As soon as the jailer was on though, the ‘
aden‘iyf'

Saint’s manner changed 611
He kept right on talking, but at the same
time he began to disrobe.

He threw off his hat, his big coat his boots "

and his trowsers, and Rainbow Roh hm
once to put them on, ri ht ovor his own 0

It was soon :done, an the Spot Saint was left
with nothing save his shirt, drawers and socks.

Then he, the Spot Saint, opened his carpet-
bag and took out a false heard that was v
like his natural one. and asisted Bob to -
just it to his face, talking constantly the while.

When this was done, however then Bob,

to talk, imitating the Spot Saint’s voice
Elli style almost exactly.

And while he talked he roceeded to bind
the Saint securely, bands an feet. And then
he put a gag into his mouth and laid him on
the narrow bed.

And still he continued to talk, that any one
listening Would have taken it to be the Spot
saXII hirmhhd ed i perh

t is occupi ten in mites, , *
and when it was done the now disguised 

"l
l
1
i
i
i

-
'
3
i
3
‘

9 went righton a. ,

 

 

 

 

Rainbow Rob.

CHAPTER XXXIII.
A PRETTY PAIR or access.

26

satdown on the foot of the little bed and held
quite a conversation with himself.
That is, he talked in two voices; in imitation WHETHER or not Sheriff Barkmore had any
of the Saint and in his own natural tone. f previous knowledge of this well-planned escape,
' After about ten minutes more he rose up ‘ we will not attemptto learn.
and shook the door, a signal for the jailer to Certain it was, though, that while he made
come. every effort to recover the escaped prisoner he
And when he was heard approaching, he gzomptly accepted the story told by the Spot
made the parting remarks to the supposed pris- int, and ordered him released. ~
‘ ' And, as stated, Rainbow Rob was not re-

‘3

“ This is no placo to talk,” Oswald growled.

“Well, come with me, and then we will find
a place. You needn’t hold your hands up an
longer. Old pards ought to beable to trusteac
other.”

Directing Oswald which way to go, Sulphur
Sam followed close behind, and in a few minutes
the were in a secluded spot, sheltered by rocks
andy trees, quite a distance from the trail, or ,

 

 

 

road .

‘ ' oner. ,

". “Goodnight my oung friend; I will call  taken. “Here we can dismount,” the outlaw observ-

, again. I am glad to ve found you in someek - Those who had condemned him pointed to i cd, suitin action to the words, “and have a
and repentant a state. Be of good cheer, and this as positive proof of his uilt, while those . quiet tal . Come, down with you“ Bob, for I

above all things else, repent.”
“ Did you rattle the door?” the jailer in-

quired.

“ Yes,” the new Spot Saint answered, “I
did. My work here is done. The murderer
has repented, and is now in tears. I am ready

to o.’
Ifad the jailer proved inquisitive, and made

. a move toward entering the cell, or spoken to

the prisoner, Rob was read to make a pris-
oner of him; but he did neit er.

He took the situation just as it a peared on
its face, opened the door and a lowed the
new Saint to pass out, and then looked it

am.
asRob had the Saint’s carpet-ha with him
and as soon as the jailer had loc ed the cell
door he followed him to the jail office.

“The prisoner, says he hasia gripsack here
somewhere,” he Rob, remarked, ‘and he has
asked me to take charge of it for him. Will

who had believed him innocent fore were none
the less confident of his innocence now.

In good time, they declared, the real mur-
derer would be found, and the crime placed
where it rightly belonged.

But we must give our attention now to other
points.

In the afternoon of the day following the es-
ca , a Friday, Ivan Oswald was returning to
Si ver Nugget from a town some miles north,
when he was suddenly brought to a stop by this
command:

“ Hands up i”

There beside the road, mounted upon his coal-
black steed, was-Sulphur Sam.

Taken completely by surprise, Oswald lost no
time in obeying the order.

“ Sorry to trouble you,” the outlaw remarked,
half apologetically, “ but business is business,
and my business is to make a haul when I can.
Allow me to relieve you of your weapons first.”

As he spoke, Sulphur Sam deftly took the

have many questions to put to you.

Oswald obeyed, with an ill grace, and at the
further invitation of his generous host sat down
on the trunk of a fallen tree.

“ Go ahead,” he said, “ and ask all the quss-
tions on want to. I will answer them.”

“ on don’t seem to be overjoyed at meeting
an old friend. We will understand each other
better presently, I guess. Now, to begin with,
I want to know all that on know about these
mysterious notices and t 6 silver casket. Go
ahead, now, and talk strai ht.”

“ No, I am not overjoy to see you, decided-
ly,” Ivan frankly declared, “ and I want to cut
our interview as short as possible. I—”

“ Ashamed of me, eh? Well, now look here,
Bob, or whatever your name is, I shall stick to
you like a brother, and you shall share your
good luck with me. If you kick— We , I
know how to bring you to terms, I guess.”

While he was speaking, the outlaw threw
aside his mask, and the two men glared at each

.4, you lease deliver it to me?”

t' - “ ell, I don’t know about that,” replied the traveler’s revolver from his pocket. and then other. '

.9", ', , ailer, as he meditated. " I suppose as it’s his, ran his hand over him to see if he had another, “ Go ahead, now,” Sam ordered, “ and let me

2"? ' hongh,” he decided, “he has the right to do at the same time taking care to hold “the drop” into the secret of this mysterious silver casket ,
 what he pleases with it, so you can have it. on him. business.” ‘
 Here it is," and he pulled it out from under a One revolver was all Ivan bad, though, and Having no choice, Oswald did as he was told, i‘
3' .’~ , table and delivered it. that gone he was disarmed. but did not by any means tell the story in f
,iijg'!’ “ Thank you,” said Rob, “ thank you. Allow ' “ It seems to me I have met you before,” Sam full. 
 me to give you a tract.” And opening the remarked, as he looked at Ivan more closely, This was suspected, though, and by a series 
4:ng carpet-bag, he handed the jailer one of the Spot then. “ May I inquire who you are?” of sharp questions and stem threats Sulphur ,
,3)", Saint’s valued supply. “ I am Ivan Oswald proprietor of the Color- Sam soon brought it out in full. i
  " The jailer took it, mechanically, and then ado House at Silver Nugget, sir; and you shall “ By heavenle exclaimed, “ this is wonder- }

i 6“. him in the doc pockets of the great coat. He the honor to hold you up on the road before?” Sam.”

'I had also broug t his hat, in the bottom of the “No, sir; you have not.” For a moment neither spoke, and then of a
’1' ca'il'get-bag. “ Well, well, it is strange, for I am usual] sudden the outlaw sprung to his feet and ex-
,V, - 0 change being made, with the exception of good at remembering faces and places. But this claimed:

)9 i -' the white beard, which he still retained, he rolled is not business. With your permission, sir "—- “ I have itl”
5,, the Spot Saint’s rments up, tied them secure~ and as he spoke, he threw open the traveler’s “You have what?” Oswald demanded.
€335- ly, and bound t em and the old carpet-hag to- coat and thrust his hand into a pocket. “ I have a plan whereby we can come in for a
 l ,' gather, / and then walked boldly back to the There was nothing there save a letter, but the share of this prize!”
 'ail. outlaw drew that forth with another caution “ You have?"
5, First however he had opened his grip and to his victim to keep his hands well u . “Yes.”
.r 5.1 . put on his belt 0 wea ns. The moment Sulphur Sam glanc at the en- “ And what is it?”
v. The jail was a litt 9 out of the busy part of velope, thou h, and saw what was written on “We must marry those two girls, and do it
._ - ’ the town, and the risk the sport ran was not it, he utter an exclamation of surprise. before the second day of October, too.”
* worth considering. That envelope was addressed to Miss Lulu “ Just what I havebeen tryigg tedo, to marry
_, Arriving there, he laid the Spot Saint‘s things Lawrence, and was the one lvan Oswald had one of them; but the plan fail .” ~
. 13..» down. on the steps, knocked loudly at the door stolen from her pocket. “ We must force them to marry us.”
j' a, L? with his revolver, and then took a hasty depar- With perfect coolness, the highwayman drew “ Im ssible!”
 "i  tare from the town. forth the sheet the envelope contained, and read “ No, it is not. It is possible. We must ab-
" Hearinglsuch an unusual knock, the jailer has; it. duct them, and after they have been in our
, toned to t 9 door and opened it. “ B heavens!” he exclaimed, “ but this is de- hands for a fevi" days they will be glad enough
Imagine his surprise. cided y interesting. How came this in your to marry us.
3‘, . There on the steps lay the bundle, but no one possession?” “ But it is a dangerous game for us to under-
; was in sight. - “ None of your business l" Ivan retorted. “ Go take.”
Picking the bundle u , he carried it in, and through me, if you are bent on doing it, and let “Look at the prize, though, if we win! We
. then instantly he reco the carpet-bag and me ass on. ’ will each have a double share in the silver oas-
g‘ .. the coat. “ onot be in a hurry; I want to ask you a ket, and a pretty wife as well. You see it is
"-» I" He was wild! . few uestions.” worth risking something for.”
"iv .' With a. volley of “ cuss words ” he caught up “ won’t answer any.” _ “ I know it is, but, how is it to be done?”
  i a lamp and rushed into the jail preper, and to “ Oh, yes you will! In the first place, is the “ Well, let me see. You say the old postmas-
" ' ! 'Bainbow Rob’s cell. real name of Sulphur Sam known at Silver ter is dead, murdered, and that Rainbow Rob
There lay the S t Saint on the bed, minus his Nugget?” was arrested for the crime, but has escaped.”
. clothes, and his ds and feet bound and his “ it is.” “Yes so I said.”
a mouth gagged. ’ “ What iiit?” “ And you say that this Rainbow Rob and
I . “ rse you!” the jailer cried. “ This was a “ It is said to be Samuel Danton.” Lulu Lawrence have got to be firm friends, if
, ~.‘pnt-up ob i” ‘ “ Just as I expected, curse my stupidity! not in fact lovers: and that neither she nor
  The aint rolled his head from side to side in Yes, that is my name. And new look at this.” Claudia Madison behaves him guilty of the ._
- the negativo, as he could protest in no other way As he spoke, the outlaw drew from his pocket crime.”
his innocence. the letter he had receiVed at the post-omoe, and “ Exactly.”
, “ I don’t believe ye i” the enraged iler ex- held it up to view. “Such bein the case, suppose those girls were

1 ' yen found me.”
v . “Impossible!
time ”

the sport bade him good-night and went away.
At the first corner he turned, and finding a

, dark place between two houses, stopped there

and quickly threw of! the Spot Saint’s garments,
even to the boots‘ haviug brought his own with

claimed, as he roceeded to liberate h m. “It

., was a putmp jo , an’ you’ll suffer for it, too!”

t‘No, no, my honest friend you wrong ine—
zou do, indeed,” the Spot Saint earnestly de-
lared, as 80011 as t e gag was removed. ‘ The

‘ ‘yo'ung lion, that he is, sprung upon me, gagged

film/tore off my clothes, and then bound me as
I heard you talking all the

“ That was not I, but he. He is the most won-
derful imitator I ever heard. But do not stand
me and argue With me. Sound the alarm.

'a'pture him! Bring him back! The rascal
has my clothes, my carpet-bag, and all my

tracts! Sound the alarm, I say, and let the

'- , whole town turn out and hunt for him !”

This was “ horse sense,” and the jailer flun

g,  “the cell-door to and locked it, and then ran an

.  in
Ad“ ,4

l i.‘.

- " , mwithe jailobell with might and main.

thin ten minutes the new spread, and the
town‘ was once more thrown into a fever of in-

‘ " ~ tense excitement.

  
 

Z Yang prisoner, but, needless to add, ho was

 Parties set out at once to hunt for the dari

 

    

 

pay dearly for this, you rascal!
“Ha, ha. ha! just what they all say, every
time, and I haven’t paid the score yet. But,
our voice sounds as familiar as our face looks.
Vhere can I have met you? ave I ever had

“ You will notice that the envelope is the same
as this," also holding up the one he had just
taken from Ivau‘s pocket, “ and that the writ“
ing is the same; and the contents, I assure you,
are the same exactly.”

“ Is it possible?”

“ It is. And now I would like to inquire how
you stand in the mystery.” ‘

“ I shall not tell that. ’

“ I think you will. I know you now, my man,
even though you do sporta beard. Perha you
have forgotten that bank affair down in exas.”

Ivan Oswald’s face turned deathly pale, and

he as -.
‘ Wiigdare you?”

The outlaw laughed.

“ I then ht I should be able to recollect you,”
he said. ‘ Do you remember ‘ Sam Slater, as I
was then known, and who knew you then as
‘ Bob Brace?’ "

Oswald’s face was now perfectly livid.

“ Are you Sam Slater? he inquired.

“ That is one of the numerous names I have
ownedin mytime Bob. Hal ha! ha! I one
we understand each other now. But you ve

   

 

 

  

beengetting up in the world, it seems.

fnl. And it seems that we are to be barred out

of any wealth it might bringeus. You, because ‘

you are not an heir; and I, cause I dare not
appear and claim my share. Fool! fool that I
was! when I applied for this letter as Sulphur

to receive a etter purporting to come from

Rainbow Rob, asking them to steal out of town

and meet him at a given point, and stating that

he had something of the utmost im rtance to

say to them; would the go to meet im?”
‘They would, beyon a doubt.”

“Then can we not write just such a letter and
deco them into our owerl'”

es, we can do i , but look at the risk l”

“ The risk be hanged! Once we get them in
our power, we will ma them in spite of them«
selves. Then they will in our power with a
vengeance and we can make them do our bid-
din . If there is any wealth forthcomin ,- we
wil manage to et it, and then li ht on for
some foreign Ian . Will you do it

“ heavens, I dare not i”

“ onsensel It is the on] _ way Dillon can hope
to get a slice of the pie, a the o y way I can
hope to at mjgshare. We must do it i”

‘ If I houg t it would work, 1—”

“ See here, Bob, you shall do it! It is make
or lose, and if you won’t go in with me, I swear
I’ll ex that Texas job and show you up.”

“ ould on do that?”
“I Hon] , I swear it."

 

 

 

       
   

 

 

 

 

 

_.._. .

v -<<.§.

   

'ip.

,. I ' L
H \- ,‘ y,

Rainbow Rob.

~2'7

 

“But you would only run into the same
dan or yourself.”

“Ila, ha, ha! I see you have partly forgotten
Sam Slater, and that you do not know Sulphur
Sam at all! You are in my power, Bob Brace,
er whatever your new name is, and_now you
may take your choice. Are you With me or
not?”

“Well, I am with you. We will go into the
game, and either make or break. But there is
one question tobe decided here and now, to save
any misunderstanding.”

“ What is that?”

“ It is simply—which of the two girls do you

refer?"

“ The little postinistress, by long odds.”

“Good enough! My choice is the other, and
so we are both suited. You are mistaken,
though, in saying we will each get a double
share of the prize, whatever it is. ()1!!' portions
will be increased, by the absence of one of the
heirs, but not doubled. As I understand the
thing now, each is to receive an equal share,
whatever it is. So, you see, we are evenly
fixed—if we win.”

“ And we will win. Our plan is perfect, and
it cannot miscm'ry. Here is my hand, Bob, to
bind the com ct.”

“ Well, an here is mine, since we are in for
it. It is Win all or lose all, with me.”

The two shook hands, and then after some
further conversation, in which they arranged
for another meeting, Sulphur Sam returned
Oswald’s revolver and the letter he had taken,
and they parted company and went their

wa S.

1 few minutes later a young man sprung up
from behind a rock where he had been lying
shook his fist after the rascally pair, an
muttered:

“ Just count me into the game, if you please I”

That young man was—Rainbow Bob, the
Tulip from Texas.

CHAPTER XXXIV.
ELEAZER vs. rarrnnua.

AND this was the Friday—the hangman’s day,
as Eleazer Brown had commented—that Try-
phena Marks had set for her wedding-day.

She had not yet won Eleazer‘s consent, but
evidently took it for granted and as a matter of
course.

Had she not made love enough to soften the
heart of a man of stone?

A , verily, as Eleazer actually put it; and
his head, too.

Since the letter in which the fair maid had
clear! set forth her intentions, Eleazer had re—
ceiv two letters dail ; and on this Frida he
received three, and al in the forenoon an by
special messenger.

The facilities of the U. S. mail were no longer
adequate to the requirements of that tortured
heart.

In the afternoon Eleazer did not go to work.

hena soon learned of this. and re ded
it as a good omen, on the strength of which she
began at once to prepare for the great event.
ut Eleanor had other thoughts.

His intention was to sli ) quietly out of town
and put an end to the who e affair. _

Tryphena’s numerous letters had, in fact,
almost driven him to suicide.

And her bursts of poetry l—Well, we will set
forth a few samples and let it k for itself.

Every letter was sweet wit “ prefume,” as
Eleazer called it: gor eous with to t-me-nots,
or “ posies,” and flni ed with a son ful burst of
true poetry.

One ended thus: a1 1

“ n hand is l n seen'
Whhrglien would unt tyne bush, is green!”

“ I don’t’ know nothin‘ about Green,” was
Eleaur’s comment, “but Brown. don‘t purpose
ter be taken in by any sich stuff!"

Another choice bit ran as follows:

“ Are you weary of earth‘s strife?
Tryphena Marks will be your wife!”

“If that Would settle it, Tryphena,” was the
backward lover‘s remark as he read, “ I sWear
ter goodness I’d take ye; but I’m ’fraid ‘earth’s

- strife’ would then begin.” I

Another letter ended like this: 0

“ Links of love we make each day;
Let us weld the chain to stay."

“ Tryphena,” Elcazer exclaimed, when he had
mastered this, “ if you only knowed what a
horror I have tochains in general, and 0f matri~
monial chains in p‘tic’!ar. you. wouldn’t ’a’ made
that m? Th’ diilikilty With them chains is,
they’re bound ter stay.”

Another ended thus: a

“ ' . river's tameless 00d,
Igliliglove that stirs the blood;
And like the river seeks the sea,
. So seeks my breaking heart for thee."

“ That’s a good one. Tryphena I swear to
goodness it is!” cried Eleazer. .“ It ends justa
trifle sad, though. Leastwise it sort 0’ makes
me feel sad, ter think 0’ that ‘ breakin’ heart ,0’
yournv It ain’t only yer heart thats a-soekin’
me, though, 'l‘r}~ hens, it’s yerbody as well: an’
I hear ya actua ly do stand six feet two in yer

- socks. Poor heart! I fear it’ll have ter hu’st.”

' me, I know

There were many more little bursts of poetry
of a similar sort, all duly commented on when
read by their recipient, but with one more speci-
men we will dro them all.

At the close 0 the last letter received on this
Friday. was the following, and, as Eleazer said
of it, it was the most beautiful of all.”

“ How have you heart to treat me so,

And make my tears unceasing flow?

Love me little. love me long,

Is the burden of my song!

Though you are short and I am tall,

Do not. I pray, mind that at all;

liui. come and let me be your wife,

And 1 will love you all my life.

(in, little missive, seek nay king.

And bid him buy the we ding-ring!
“TRYPHENA Mam.”

“ Now, Tryphena,” mused Elcazcr as he read,
“ that is what I call real touchin’. It is,
swear tcr goodness! You’ve got it had, an’ no
mistake. I don’t believe any female critter
ever had it badder. But that’s no reason
why ye should pitch it up ter me that l’m
small, not by no means. ‘ Love me, little,’
ye say. Of course I’m little: I know that as well
as you do. If I was :nearer yer own size ye
wouldn’t have ter ax me but once to mar-
ry e, I tell ye! An’ ‘love me lon'r,’
ye a d, as if a feller could love ye short if Iie
wanted ter! When ye speak of my bein’ th’
cause 0’ yer salt, sad tears a-flowin’ unceasin‘,
though, then ye hit me right whai' I live. I feel
for ye, I swear tcr goodness! but what kin I
do? I wish th’ ‘burden of yer son ’ wasn’t so
sad. As ter not miiidin’ it ’cause ’m short an’
you’re tall, I can’t help it. I don’t s’pose you
mind it, ’cause you’ve got th’ ’vantage: an’ if we
could change sizes, I wouldn’t mind, nuther.
But when ye git right down ter biz, an’ an
come and let ye be my wife and talk about th’
rin , an’ soon, then ye remind me that I’m in
a coudcmned tight place, an’ that I’d better git.
I love ye, Tryphena, an’ it is hard ter tear my-
self away: but when I reflect how big ye be,
an‘ how ittle 1— We], I simply daresn’t, an'
that settles it.
fer Denver?”

And so, at last. Elearer’s course was fully de-
cided upon. He intended, as stated, to run
away and thus rid himself of the whole respon-
sibility.

How he succeeded we will presently show.
We must now turn our attention to Tryphena.

She was sitting in her little room adjoining
her sho , and actually weeping, when a woman,
a neigh or, ch need to enter.

That woman as Mrs. Dan Gilbert.

“ Why, Tryphena, my dear,” she exclaimed,
“ what on earth is the matter?”

Tyyphena was fairly caught, and as Mrs. Gil-
bert was .one of her best friends, she made a
clean breast of the whole affair.

“ An’ don’t th’ ungratiful critter payy not th’
least ’tention to ye, nor let on what he’ do?"

“ No,” T hena sobbed, “ he don’t. He loves
s does, but he is so sensitive be-
cause he is a little smaller than most men. And
I love him, oh! I do love him so! Why, if you
can believe it, Mrs. Gilbert, I have spent every
cent of my profits from pills and porous plasters
in writing letters to him. I wouldn’t mind it so
much, but he commenced to make love first, and
he won my heart before I knew it.”

“ Did he do that?”

“He did, Mrs. Gilbert. He used to pass my
window 0mg to and from his work, and flirted
with me esperately.”

“Poor dear! and now he will not pay any
attention to you.”

“ No, he will not even write one little word.”

“ Oh! the rascal! And you are sure you love
him?”

“ Love him! I love him with all my heart.”

“ And you think he loves you?”

“ I am sure he does.”

“ Then you shall have him! Yougest go right
on, Tryphena, an’ fix fer th’ weddin . an I’ll see
to it that Mr. Brown is on hand. You have th’
preacher here, an’ all ready, an’ I’ll fetch th’
man. He may'mean fer come anyhow, though,
for; he, did not go towork as usual this afternoon,
an --

“ What! Did he not go to work?”

“No, he—”

“ Oh! then he will come, I know he will,” the
delighted little maid cried, and she is rung up at
once, brushed away her team, an began to
prepare for the t event as mentioned.

.But, as mentioned also, Eleazer was making
different arrangements, and we left him inquir-
in about the next train for DenVer.

e was not Ion in ascertaining, and just be.
fore train-time, w ich was also the hour set for
the wedding, he shouldered his worldly goods
and set out or the station, clad in his best.

He was takin a back street, in order to meet
as few people w om he knew as possible.

He had not gone far, however, when he was
met by Mrs. Dan Gilbert.

“ Why, Mr. Brown,” she exclaimed, “where
he egoin’i”

‘ I’m off for Denver,” Eleanor answered, as
he tried to get by.

“Now you look here, Eleanor Brown,” said
Mrs. Gilbert decisively, as she stepped in front

I wonder what’s th’ next train

 

. .n‘v
. 9.1,”,

 

 

of him. “you ain’t off for no rich 3 place at all,

     

You’re a—goin’ right along with me to Try-
phena’s house, an’ marry her.”

“ Corraled, I swear to goodness!” Elemr
gasped in a despairing tone, and his face turned
pale and his legs tre iibled.

He knew Mrs. Dan Gilbert well enough to
know that he was hopelessly lost. He had seen
her “manage” her husband many a time, and
had seen her “ get away” with Ben Down, and
knew that he would stand no chance at all.

“ She’d git away With a little cuss like me in
jest two secnnds.” he quickly li‘arcnPd, “an’ I
may 'est as well give right up.”

“ es, sir, you’re corralml.” Mrs. Dan assured
him, “ so come right nlunr."

“ Jest as you say,” Eleanor 1 l'l. w Red. faintly,
and he changed his course and his intentions at
the same time.

Now Eleazer had been watched.

When he did not appear at the mine that
afternoon, suspicion was aroused at once. and
his interested friends set one of their number to
watch him.

After the day’s work was over, several more ‘

Eined in the task, and so when Eleazer met
rs. Gilbert, and went with herto Tryphena’s
house, the news was quickly 5 read.

When Mrs. Gilbert and E eazer entered the
house, Tryphena rushed forward, caught the
little man in her arms and fairly lifted him
from the floor, exclaiming;J »

“ Oh! my dean—dear leaner, I knew you
would come!”
kisses.

“ Corraled! corraled as sure as guns!” Elemr
gasped. “ I knowed jest how ’twould be, an’
here it is.”

“ What do you say, deary?” Tryphena ques-
tioned.

“ I said go on with th’ performance,” Eleanor
answered. '

A- preacher was right at hand. and in a very
short time the knot was securely tied.

“ At last,” cried Tryphena, then, as she swap—
ed and laid her head upon her husband’s ma y
breast, “ at last I am your wife, your wife I”

“ An’ I’m mightygglad of it, too, now that th’ ‘

business is done,” leazer confessed, as he em-
braced his wife and heaved a sigh of relief that
suggested a heavy load removed from his mind;
“ I am, I swear to oodnessl Things was gettin’
desperate, an’— ut, 'Ih'yphena, dear, how’s
yer heart now?” ,

The happy bride responded with a gladsome,
girlish lgiggle that it was now safe, and then in-
vited a present into an adjoining room to sup-
per.

While all were at the table, there came a sud—
den hurrah from a hundred throats in the street
before the house, the beginning of the wildest
and most enthusiastic serenades the town had
ever witnessed.

Eleazer and Tryphena were obliged to appear
and reap re tedly, and the uproar was
continued until 9. ate hour.

Eleazer’s chief tormentor was there, and he
was the high horse of the crowd.

“ What did ll tell ye, Ele?” he shouted. at the
first appearance of the happy pair. “What is
th’ five dollars I’ve won?”

Eleazer settled the bet immediately.

Next morning the “ Silver Nugget Screanwr,”
the leading paper of the town, cOutained the
following: ‘

“MARRIAGE BELLS. .

" Baoww—MARKs.-—At the residence of the bride,
last evening September flth . by Rev. Ole O. Burr,
Mr. Eleazer rown to Miss ryphena Marks, both
OM38 wigs} Ni’i‘iuds' t to ih h lo.

“ ur w 5 es 0 on e a co
The bride, a most am able and cuiturggIadym
for some time carried on business here, and has
made herself so valuable to the community that we
sincerely trust the duties of her new ventune will
got gum-fore wi'h the duties of the old. As for Mr.

I'O
there is a man u
and who never d d a willfully wrong or

act, that man is Eleazer Brown. We wish then; all 

happiness. and he that in due time their union"

may heblessed wit numerous little Brown-Jinan." “

 

5 CHAPTER XXXV.
ran ram or SULPHUR SAM.

ANOTHER progressive stride, and we are for- 5

ward into the final week of September.

The great day, Saturuay, October 2d, isat I

hand almost.

Ai airs at Silver Nugget, to 1:1] outward up.“ 

penrant-es, remain murh the ionic.
- Riiluliow Roli hum not P-u-n recaptured, and it

is the o: inion of the Li! inns in g: ntral that he 

is not like! y to be. ,
No other clnw to the murder cf the old post-

master has been fun-mono. no other persouis .

suspected—by the public.

In the parlor of the Lawrence residence thé: ’

two heroines of our romance Were seated. .‘
It was about mid-afternoon. *

. Clggia, pale and grief-stricken, was dressed
in

him guilty, and I am glad he esca

”
“ And so am I!” cried Lulu. “Eli,” she «Ida "'
ed, “I won or where he can be! It is W. .‘

he does not et any of his friends know.” 

And she covered his face with .

he has got onlynvghalt1 hp1 deserved; for!!! i
5) ea w o as not an

b . , . . .
They were talking about the horrible murder. 
“ No,” Claudia was, saying, “ I do not believe

 

 

“He has to be careful, you know,” Claudia“ g;

,Q.‘ i..--.'.. .. A

. .s... ._

a» - _, a“ e “Utah,”

figs-nu ‘,
0. xi». '-

 

 

. i 1"
ffi’

\‘

 

   
 
 
 
 
 
   

 

28

Rainbow Rob.

 

 

obmrved. “ Mr. Lawrence seems to think he is
not far away, you know, and so does Alvin.”

“Yes, I know; and I more than half believe
they know more_than they tell us.”

“ That is just what I think.”

I At that moment a servant came in bearing a
etter.

" A letter?” queried Lulu; “ whom is it for?”

“ It is for you," the servant answered, as she
advanced and placed it in her hand.

“ Where did you get it?”

“ A boy left it only a moment ago.”

“ That is all.

Having dismissed the servant from the room,
Lulu tore open the envelope and drew forth the
sheet it contained.

She lanced at once at the signature.

“‘ W y,” she exclaimed, “it is from Rainbow
Rob—I mean Mr. Ransom!”

“ Is it? What does he say?”

“ I will read it aloud.”

-The letter ran as follows:

. "MONDAY, Sept. 27, 1880.
“ Miss LAWRENCE:—

“ I have something very important to say to you
and Miss Madison but of course I dare not venture
into town. nor do i wish to put it on paper. Will
iyiou and Miss M. meet me to-nlght at sunset, at the

rst clump of trees south of the Eagle Mine? This
is not far from town and you can reach home be-
fore dark. I expect no regly but shall look for you
at the place and time nam . Please assure Miss M.
of my entire innocence.
“ Your friend,
“Bonner Ransom."

Lulu and Claudia looked at each other for
several moments before either  o.

“ ghat do you think?” Clan ia preisently in-

uir . x
q "I hardly know what to think,” Lulu con-
fessed. “ Do you think we ought to go?"

“ I do not know. See, though, there is some-
thin more on this side of the sheet!”

“ 0 there is.”

It was a brief postscript, and it ran thus:

" P. S.—-You must come alone. You need have no
fears, for I can protect you." ‘

“ Why does he want us to come alone?” Lulu
questioned.

“ He is, no doubt, afraid of being captured.”

“ He shows little confidence in us, then.”

“ I think so, too."

“ Well, shall we go?”

“I dare not deCide. Here comes your papai

I though. Suppose you show him the note an

ask his advice.”

“ Just the idea i"

In a moment more Mr. Lawrence entered the
‘room.

‘.‘ Papa,” Lulu said at once, “read this, and
then tell us what to do.”

“ What is it?” the judge asked, as he took the
note from her hand.

“ It is a letter from Robert Ransom.”

“ Ah! is that so?” and the old gentleman ad-
justed his glasses and read it ea erly.

‘t‘iZVaat ought we to do?” ulu urged, im-
pa y.

“ on ought to go, by all means,” the judge
decided at once. ’

“ But, pa , he says we must come alone.”

“ No mat r—go.’

“Suppose it is not from him, thou h, but is a
trap to are us away. Suppose it is t e work of

, that road-agent.”

So Lulu urged, and at the thought both she

r and Claudia trembled.

“ I do not believe it is, but you should go any-
how. You will be well mounted, and you can
0 well armed, as well. Who can say but that
he onng man can give you a clew to the ma-
der Go, by all means.”
That deemed the matter, and they resolved

"too.

hen it came time for them to start, Lulu
ordered the horses, and then arming themselves
each with a revolver, they set out.

“It is a risk for them to run,” Judge Law-
rence mused, as he watched them depart, “ but
the trap is perfect, and the two rascals are sure
to be taken.”

From this it will be seen that Rainbow Rob
had not been idle.

He had managed to be resent at the second
interview between Snip ur Sam Ivan
01:12am, and had learned the details of their

9 Then he at once opened a communication with
Sherifl Barkmore, through Alvin Howe and
Detective McDonald. 4

The result Was, an almost rfect snare for
Sulphur Sam and the other vi ainous rascal.

And all this‘was known, of course, toJudge
Lawrence, as We learn from his-own words.

The le Mine was not more than a mile
from town, and just south of it was a clump of
trees, as mentioned in the decoy letter.

And in that direction th two girls rode.

Not being in the secre they could but not
their part naturally.

’ When they arrived at the appointed place the
sun had set, and the shadows were just begin-
nin to deepen.

, ey paused at a little distance from the trees
and looked around.

No one was t: be won.
next moment, though, a voice was

 

heard in the shadow of the trees, telling them
to ride on.

“Who are you?” Lulu called.

“I am Rob,” was the answer, and at the same
time a horseman, with a white hat not unlike
the one worn by the Tulip, appeared at the edge
of the clump.

The voice, too, sounded like Rainbow Rob’s,
and thus reassured, the two girls rode on.

At the moment they reached the trees, though,
another horSeman appeared before them.

This one was Sulphur Sam.

With drawn revolvers, then, the two laid
hands upon the bridles of the irls’ horses.

“ Utter one sound,” said Sn hur Sam, coolly,
“and you both die. We wi 1 stand no non-
sense.”

Both men were masked, and of course the
girls knew not that one of them was Ivan Os-
wald.” .

“What do you mean by this outrage?” de-
manded Lulu fiercely. “ Release your hold
from that brid’le instantly!”

“ 0r die I”

The words came from half a dozen men at
once, and as many revolvers were aimed at the
rascals’ hearts.

These men had seemed to spring up right out
of the very ground, so quickly and so unex-

tedly did they appear upon the scene, and
van Oswald was so startled that he was made a
prisoner before he could think of resisting.

But not so Sulphur Sam.

His revolver spoke instantly, two men fell be-
fore him, and amid a shower of bullets he was
away in a moment like the wind.

And he would have escaped, too, with only a

- few slight wounds, had not this very occurrence

been foreseen and provided for.

But escape he did not.

No sooner was be clear of the clum of trees
than the sheriff’s posse, mounted an armed,
Spurred out from a little ravine a short distance ;
away and started in hot pursuit, calling upon !
the outlaw to surrender.

Sulphur Sam‘s answer was a shot, which top-
pled one of the deputies from his saddle.

The next instant half a score of carbines were ;
leveled and fired, and the outlaw and his horse ,
were brought to the ground.

With a yell of victory the sheriff‘s men spur-
red on, but the next moment another of their
number fell. ‘v
Thou h mortally wounded, the black rider was
resolved to sell his life dearly.

A volley of revolver-shots followed instanta-
neously then, and literally riddled with bullets.
Sulphur Sam fell dead across the body of his
dying horse.

in the mean time a pair of handcuffs had been
clap onto the wrists of Ivan Oswald.

“ van Oswald,” Sheriff Barkmore said, as he
then tore the mask from the rascal’s face “ I
arrest you for this attem , abduction, and for
the murder of Henry M ison.”

” It is a lie 1” the prisoner screamed, as he
stru gled desperately to free himself.

“ I guess we can prove it to be true,” the
sheriff remarked.

It was a surprise for all, to find one of the
masked men to be Ivan Oswald, the proprietor
of the Colorado House. That is, it was such to
all those not in the secret.

And it was more of a surprise when the sherifl
charged him with the murder of the old post-
master.

“ Who says it is so?” the prisoner cried. “ Who
dares to charge me with such a crime?”

“ I do, and dare,” answered a voice, and Rain-
bow Rob, the Tulip from Texas, stepped forward
and stood before him.

“ You!” cried Oswald, “ you are a prisoner
yourself !”

“ I was such,” was the calm reply, " but I have
proven myself guiltless, and am now free. Ask
the sheriff."

“ It is true,” Barkmore confirmed.

“ And he says that I am the murderer?”

“ So he says and so he can prove.”

“ Itis a lie, a lie! and I demand a hearing at
once!”

“ You will no doubt get a hearing tc-morrow.
To-night you will stop with me."

True it was, Rainbow Rob was free. In dis-
guise he had been right in t0wr. almost all the
time since his escape, acting the part of a detec-
tive, and he had found a clew that led straight
to Ivan Oswald as the real murderer.

This point settled Rob had an interview with
the preper authorities, and had been discharged.

For proof against Oswald A be had several
points, one of which was the impression of his
thumb in the stain of blood, as before described.

By a clever trick, as soon as suspicion pointed
toward him, Rob managed to get another im-

ression of his thumb in a hall of wax, and the
Ewe were precisely alike.
But this proof was held a secret, and was re-

 

 

serVed for the examination. I
The sheriff ordered his men to look after the
bodies of their fallen comradhs and that of the
outlaw, while he returned to t0wn with the new
prisoner.
R iinbow Rob caught one of the riderless
horses, and mounting. rode hack to town beside
ulu Lawrence and her friend Claudia.

‘) . ' ' . .l 'v
' a. ."~ 4 "v" 7‘ i .~ ‘
hf". " " ' " ~ ‘  ..> , a";

La  .f‘i, V‘, "aw? ""

l

1

And as they rode along be related all thathad
taken place.

“ Oh! we did not for a moment believe you
guilty!” exclaimed Lulu, earnest] , “ but we
never dreamed that it would be van Oswald.
\Vhat can have been his object?”

“ That,” was Rob’s reply, “ is to be told later.”

When they reached town, they rted for the
time, and Judge Lawrence was g ad to see the
girls return safely. ,

Ivan Oswald was lodged in 'ail, and when the
news of his arrest, an the eath of Sulphur
Sam, became known generally, the excitement
in the little city scarcely knew any bounds.

CHAPTER XXXVI.
ESCAPE AND CAPTURE.

NEXT day Ivan Oswald was examined, or
had his “ hearin .”

And it was begore the same justice who had
granted Rainbow Rob’s discharge, u n the
strength of the proof he had shown of is inno-
cence of the crime.

One of the first witnemes called was the night
clerk of the Colorado House.

He testified that no one except the proprietor
himself, and he the clerk, had a key to admit
him into the house at night after it was finally
closed.

Next, he testified that he had been out on the
night of the crime, telling where and wh , and
proving it to the satisfaction of all. e had
gone out after closing the house for the night, a
little before midnight.

When he returned it was about two o’clock.
He entered the house by way of the front main
door, and went at once to his room.

He had barely reached his room when he
thought he heard some one else enter the house.

Curious to know who it was, and wantin to
know what was going on, he being respons1ble
for the safety of the house, he step , out of his
room and slipped down to the first ndin .

By the dim light in the hall below heieheld
Ivan Oswald, t proprietor, and satisfied that
all was right he ent quietly back to his room.

This proved that at that hour both of those
having night-keys were in the house, and that
no one else then out could have entered later
without forcin a lock.

Rainbow Ro proved that he had retired long
before midnight.

A chambermaid testified to finding blood-
stained water in Ivan Oswald’s room on the
morning of the crime.

He ex lained that by saying his nose had bled
during t e night.

The maid remarked that it must have bled a
quart.

Another servant testified that the proprietor
rose at an unusually early hour that morning,
and built the fire in the kitchen range; a thing
he had never done before.

Wile" he, the servant, came down at his usual
time, Oswald (‘UI‘Si‘il him for sleeping 80 late.

The sciwunt called atiencion to the fact that
he was not late.

Thereupon Oswald glanced at his watch, and
said he had made a mistake. in the time.

The servant said there was smoke in the
kitchen, and a strong smell of burnt cloth, and
that he aiterward found a great many buttons

in the ashes.

A dozen rsons testified that on that day
Oswald ha appeared in a different suit of
clothes, and the suit he had formerly worn had
not been seen since.

rThroughout all this the prisoner sat silent and

pa e.

And, last of all, Rainbow Rob was called to
give his testimony.

It was given in a clear and straightforward
manner. ,

He kn nothin about the murder until he
was call up by e sheriff and arrested. He
did not know how the blood came on his door
and on his sleeve. He suspectcd that the mur-
derer had entered his room to throw suspicion
upon him. When arrested, he requested to be
shown the trail of the blood, and also the victim.
Under the rear window of the post-office. in a

t of blood, he found the imprint of a human
t umb. He cut 03 a sliver from the sill and
kept it. It was shoWn and identified by Sheriff
Barkmore and Dan Gilbert.

After his escape from jail, he returned to
town in disguise to ferret out the mystery. His
3 icion fell u on the proprietor of the 0010-
ra oHouse. e learned all the facts that had
been given by the witnesses, and by a clever ruse
he succeeded in getting an impression of Os-
wald’s thumb on a ball of wax. This and the
one in the blot of blood were shown. Both were
made by the same thumb;

No further proof was needed, and the prisoner
was sent back to jail, charged with the crime.

And later on. seeing how hopeless his case
was, he Confessed.

Henr Madison, he explained, had, as he be-
heliev , some papers which he desired to see.

His only chance for seeing them was to enter
the bones at night and search for them.

This he did. 3

Ha: entered by the rear window into the posts
ofiice. Thence made. his wavup-stairs. He was

 

searching for the papers in Mr. Madison‘s room ,

 

 

 

 

 

‘ A. “want. ..

 

y- es.
‘mtxv‘

 

or We": ‘

A fit- 51‘"

.‘d

 

 

 

' ever, than H

 

 

Rainbow 

29

 

 

 

when the old man awoke and saw him. With-
out a second thou ht, he, Oswald, drew a knife
and threw himse f upon his victim and lulled
him. .

Then the horror of his crime rushed upon him
and he hastened from the room and the house,
and rushed home.

Not until he was in the hall of his hotel did he
realize that he must have left a trail of blood
behind him, and then instantly came the idea to
throw suspicion upon some one else. .

The first one he thought of was Rainbow
Rob.

Going at once to his room he let himself in si—
lontl with his pass-kc? the other key happen-
ing {o be out of the loc . Rob was asleep. As
silently as a shadow the murderer moved, put
his knife into the chimney, and then even ven-
tured to touch the sleeping man’s sleeve with his
bloody'hand as he went out. .

He took particular pains to leave no stains of
blood elsewhere, and went at once to his own
room and washed. Next morning he burned his
blood-stained clothes in the kitchen range.

What the papers were that he risked so much
to see he would not state.

And on that day, too, Sulphur Sam was
buried, as were the unfortunate men who had
fallen by his hand.

Next day Rainbow Rob led a part to the out-
law’s cabin which he had discove , and there
a great den of booty was recovered.

Sam’s hired man was told of his master’s death,
of course, and he at oriice took his departure for
a more wholesome sect on.

On the following Friday night, .at a late hour
the bell of the jail was heard ringing loudly, an
all who heard it jumped up to learn the cause.

Those who lived nearest learned first, of
course.

The prisoners had secs 1

There were six or eig t in all, am . whom
were Ivan Oswald, Jim Hogan and M e Kin-
me.

In a few minutes the town, or that portion of
it, was up and in arms.

Here was the confessed murderer of Henry
Madison at large, and all the other cut—throats
the jail had contained.

They must not—they should not escape!

They got out by a clever ruse evi-
dentl following the example set them by Balu-
bow b.

Oswald had ma
Jim Hogan, and ha
a plan.

At a late hour Hogan was taken desperately
ill, and made such a fuss that the jailer hastened
to his assistance.

No sooner had he opened the cell door, how-
n was upon him, and he was
borne to the cor with a force that rendered
him for a time insensible.

Then instantly Hogan snatched away his keys
and in a few moments all the prisoners were
free.

But they were not destined to escape, although
it was by a rare piece of good luck that they
were taken.

It was some time before the jailer came 
and gave the alarm, and by that time the pris-
oners were well out of town, and pursuit would
have been useless.

But as it happened, Sheriff Barkniore and his
men had been over to Bonanm that evening and
were returning. _ .

They were within a mile of town, their horses
at a walk, when they came suddenly face to face
With ““"£““'3i"‘"“ ight have  on in the

ven t on ey in _ ' , '
dalEkness, but for the folly of .ike Kinnie, for
the mi ht have  reco ition.

B’ut iko made their identity known.

“ By thunder, th’ sheriff!" he exclaimed, and
his voice was recognised instantly;

"“ Hands up!” cried the sheriff, or we’ll drop

on!” .

Some obe ed, but two tried to esaape.

The shori had now rode near enough to iden-
tify them beyond doubt. _

" Stop!” he cried, “ or we will fire

“ Fire, and be hanged!" Jim Hogan shouted
back.

The order was given instantly, several shots
rung out, a‘ndJim Hogan and Ivan Oswald Were
brought to the ground, the first dead, and the
latter had] wounded.

It was all done in a few brief moments.

In a short time the prisoners were secured, the
wounded one was cared for, the dead one was
laid scram the back of one of the horses, and
then the sheriff and his party went on.

Ivan Oswald was seriously wounded, and was
taken at once to his own room in the hotel,
where the sherifl stationed :dguard and where
he was given the best in cal aid the town
could afi'ord.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
m seraa casxa‘r OPINID.

Samar October 2, 1880. _

The day dawned clear and bright, and .11
who were interested in the silver casket were

not im tience for the‘hour tear-rive.
f“On thepfi‘rst’train down from Denver came

ed to communicate with
given him the outline of

I”

 

Mr. J abez Howard, Mr. Andrews and Mr. Wil-

son.

These repaired to the Colorado House at
once. .

When the hour drew near, the first interes

rsons to arrive were Mr. and Mrs. Eleanor

rowu.

Tr hena had not told Eleazer the secret yet,
gut ad merely requested him to accompany

er.

Eleazer’s face beamed with smiles, and to all
appearances he was happy. And Tryphena—-
well, that she was happy goes without saying.

The next to arrive were Judge Lawrence,
Lulu and Claudia Madison.

A short time later came Rainbow Rob and
Alvin Howe.

The living heirs of old Barton Lawrence were
all present.

At a uarter to ten Mr. Howard, Mr. An-
drews an Mr. Wilson entered the room.

It was with not a little surprise that Rain-
bow Rob and Alvan Howe were regarded by
Lulu and Claudia, while Eleanor and Tryphena
were looked upon with surprise by all.

After a whispered consultation amo Mr.
Howard and the English lawyers, Mr. ilson
rose and inquired:

“ Are the ladies and gentlemen present the
heirs of Mr. Barton Lawrence, who died in
New York on October the second, 1780?”

All except Eleanor Brown answered in the
affirmative, and he sat and gazed upon his bet-
ter—half in amazement.

Being assured Mr. Wilson went on and ad-
dressed them at en th.

He recounted all hat is known to the reader
concerning Mr. Barton Lawrence and his
peculiar Will, and then continued:

“The remainder of his wealth Mr. Iawrence
invested in guaranteed English sureties, sealed
his certificates in a silver casket, or caused them
to be so d' of, and that casket was to be
opened on t e one-hundredth anniversary of the
day of his death. To-day is the day. The value of
that investment now, owing to a whole century
havin passed, is about nine million dollars.
And igis to be divided equal] amon those who
can prove their identity as arton wrence’s
descendants. Let me add, however, that unless
that silver casket is produced, and those certifi-
cates are shown here and now, this vast fortune
will 0 to the British Crown.

“ hoever has the silver casket, let him now
bring it forth.”

A pause followed, and all present looked at
one another.

It was a moment of fearful suspense.

Then the door opened, and entered the room—
the Spot Saint from Scarecrow.

Advancing at once to a, table in the center of
the room, he placed his old car t-bag upon it.
Then he 0 had the bag, and mm it took the
silver cas et, placing it in-the'hands of Mr.
Howard.

Mr. Howard rose at once and said:

“I, Jabez Howard, the authorized custodian
of the silver casket am, thanks to my detective,
enabled to deliver the casket to be opened.”

The casket Was then handed to Mr. Wilson.

“One moment, gentlemen,” the S t Saint
then interru ted. “Mr. Ivan Oswal , the pro-

rietor of t is house and murderer of Henry

adison, and who is about dying, desires to be

carried into this room to witness the opening of
the silver casket. Will you admit him?”

After a moment’s debate the permission was
granted, and the dying man was carried in on a
stretcher.

“Mr. Howard,” said‘ the Spot Saint then,
“allow me to introduce Mr. Ivan Osw d pro-

rietor of this hotel; otherwise Mr. 

award, who stole the silver casket from you
five years ago.” .

“ Ha! you know me?” the dying rascal

, as he tried to raise himself up.
“ Y I know on.”
“ An who are you?”

“I am Martin McDonald, a New York de-
tective.” ‘

Basil Howard fell back with a gasp.

“ It is true,” he said faintly, “1—1 am Basil
Howard. I—I—” but he was too fargone to
as more. ,

abez Hiward had risen and crossed over to
where the dying man lay, and as he looked
down upon him he said, with suppressed pas-

sion:

“ Basil Howard, if you were not dying, I
would curse you. You are unworthy of the
name you bear!” .

If the dying man’s face pictured the remorse
he felt, he was punished enough.

.“I— I— I— he gasped, trying to speak;
but his strength was gone, and in a minute more
he was dead. '

The body was quickly carried from the room.

' “ This is very sad,” remarked Hr. Andrews,
“ but we must . with the busineu we have
in hand. Mr. ilsou, you will please to open the

siIVer casket.” .

“ Will it not be well firsttoeaaminethe proofs
of identity which these heirs bring?” Mr. Wil-
mi'ila “divans right w em ttend

“ r . e a to
that'firsttr .

 

This occupied some time, but at last it was
done, and the identity of each one was found
perfectly established.

Rainbow Rob had sent for the
sary, while Detective McDonald A
proof sufficient for Alvin Howe.

When all was finally arranged, Mr. Wilson
took up the silver casket.

“ One hundred years sealed and locked,” he re-
marked “ and new to be opened for the first
time. no whole century! Why. it was sealed
before my randfather was born!” I

It was in eod a wonderful event.

Mr. Wilson broke the seal, and then taking
the ke from the handle where it was secured,
turn it in the lock.

Then putting the casket down on the table he
invited all present to step forward and see the
lid raised.

All obeyed, and the casket was opened.

On top of all lay a slip of paper containing
these words:

“Intrusted to m friend, Franan Howard, and
by him to be seal on the day I die."

This was read aloud, and then the lawyer took
up another paper.

That read as follows:

“le Yo Se . 15, mo.
” To Mr Hamsz— m p

" Know by this that though I am dead. yet do I
live. I am with you as these words fall u n your
cars. It is my will that each of you shal have an
equal share of the wealth I have left to you. I hope
you are all honorable men and women.

“ At this critical period 1 have little faith in Amer!~
can Independence. It is a futile eflort of the child
to subiue and defy the parent country. The rebel-
lion is certain to be crushed. and the leaders banged.
Such being my gluion, I have invested my remaim
ing wealt in 9! sh sureties. Full instructions
have been given, interest will be added to gri
for the one hundred years, and at the on of t t
time lawyers will be sent to you, empowered to de-
liver the wealth to on. Also, communication will
becarriedon witht acustodianof thecasketfroln
time to time.

" But enough. When these words greet you the

end will have come.
“ Baa-ton Law-Inca."

Then there was another note, thus:
“To an Fm Cos-renum—

“ My thanks to you. it is my will that the endow-
ment made by me for your use shall now become
yours 3; fact, principal and interest, to do with at
3’0.“ W

rs neces-
provided

- "Baa-ms Lamas.”

Then came the valuable papers.

The sureties were so arranged that they could
be divided into any number of equal portions,
and the division was soon made. ‘

Then all the legal formalities were
and each heir was put into possession of "his"
her share.

Each was made worth a million and a half.

It was almost past belief, but that it was true
could not be doubted, and the joy of the hair:
can hardly be imagined.

Tryphena caught Eléarer up in her arms and
gave him a squeeze that made his joints crack.
exclaiming:

“ I knew it, Eleanor, and that is why I wasso
determined!”

“ God bless ye, Tryphena,” Eleanor replied,
“you’re a trump! you are, I swear to good-
ness! ’ -

Explanations then followed. I

Detective McDonald, the “‘ (fiat Saint,” told
the story of his long hunt, an an interestin
story it was. To give it here would be to crews
our romance out of all limit. 'Let a few expla-
nations sufiice. He it was who had played
“ ghost,” and the appearance of the skeleton ap-
mrition was due to uminous paint. In getting

to the hotel office to take the casket from
Basil Howard, he had found it ea to pick one
of the locks, the noise of the file be g to loud as
to drown any sound he mi ht make in so doing.
Af the silver ca et had . mm
of the time in his old ca t-bag. His final suc-
cess, however. as he at t declared, Was due
wholly to Rainbow Rob. _

Rob tried to, deny this, but McDOnald 'in-
stantly began togile up proof that could not be
disputed, and R0 came in for a full share of the

praise.
And to him was 'ven,bygeneral consent, the

emgty silver caske which wasa souvenir not to I
be espised.

CHAPTER XXXV III.

maul.
Arlastthebudnessofthe daywascomr
pleted,a.nd theheirswereinpomeuion of their

The la ers instructed them how to roceed,
in orderwto have the wealth transfegred to-
Afigxd,“ da h l

next y, t e awyer, Mr. Howard,
§ndkthe detective, all set out to return to New

or .

Ithadbeenawonderfulmae,andithad bear
brought to a succesful close.

Inter, when Rainbow Rob’s actual busined in
Colorado was the truth came out
that he. too, was a detective.

Hewasaspeciai officer, ontheStats M '0!
Texas.

The business that had brought him to ssvu‘

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 18 Tan Dun SrY.

ASH)

Rainbow Rob. ‘

 

 

Nugget is foreign to the interest of our story.
Let it suffice to say that it was detective busi-
ness, and that it was successfully carried out.

This accounted for his frequent trips to Den-
yer.

With such fortunes at their command, how-
ever, he and Alvin Howe gave up business at
once.

A few weeks later they started for England,
with power of attorney to act for the other
heirs, too, and in due time each heir had his or
hh‘ fortune in hand.

And it is needless to add that good use was
made of it by them all.

A year later there was a double wedding at
Silver Nu get.

Robert I) sum and Lulu Lawrence were one
party, and Alvin Howe and Claudia Madison the
other.

The reward, by the way, that had been offer-
ed for Sulphur Sam, was divided among the
families of the men who had fallen by his hand
at the time Of his capture.

 

Seven years, almost, have now passed since
the time of our story.

It may not be out of place to speak of our
' friends as we find them at this time»

“ Silver Nugget.”—for of course we gave the
DOWII a fictitious name, for obvious reasons—is
now one of the most promising little cities in the
State.

,And there reside, first, Robert Ransom and
his Dretty wife, Lulu, and their three lovely
children.

Judge Lawrence is still there, a hearty man,
doing his best to def the march of years.

_' Besides there are a so Alvin Howe and Claudia,
with their little family.

And no hap ier persons are tobe found any-
where, than 9. these mentioned. They do not
live for themselves alone, but their wealth makes

ha py all who have any claim upon their friend-
shP, and a host of others besides.

abez Howard is dead. I.

At his death he willed all his possessions to
Martin McDonald , the detective.

The latter still hves in New York.

Dan Gilbert and Mrs. Dan still live at Silver
Nugget. Dan, occasionally, still claims to be
the “ long-clawed,” etc., etc., but on such occa-
sions Mrs. Dan still proves herself equal‘to the
emergency. ,

John Barkmore, too, still lives there, and has
since served one term as mayor of the town.

Basil Howard, or “Ivan Oswald” as he was
best known, is buried there, side by side with
Samuel Dunton, or “ Sulphur Sam.’

No stone marks their grams, and in the
course of years even their dishonored names will
. - cease to be remembered.

' The grave of Henry Madison, on the other
hand, is well-cared for constantly

And Tryphena and Eleazer? h! NO happier
. can is ever lived.

T eir life seems one continual hone moon.

; 'l‘ryphena is us proud of her little usband as
‘ any 0nd wife can be, and Eleazer is more than
proud of her.
“ Did I not tell you I would love you all my
life?" she sometimes asks.
And Eleanor answers:

‘ “ You did, Tryphena, and I was a fool. I
was, I swear to goodness!”
I And the good wishes expressed by the Silver
Nugget Screamer, at the t me of their marriage.
" has been realized. Several “ little Brown-Marks ”
now bless their union.
The “ Green Bottle ” yet flourishes, with Jerry
Lynch still its proprietor.
‘ And so does the “Colorado House,” which
'some of Basil Howard’s relatives came forward
‘ claimed.
THE END.

" ’ .1 ‘ BEADLE’S
  Half-Dime Library.

1‘ DEADme DION. Bv Edward L. Wheeler. . . .. so
I‘Ynmwsress JACK. BSJose hEBadger, Jr... 5c
alumnae. B_ Bu ale ill.  

By MayneBeid.... 5‘:

 

 

Citrus.
,5 VAGADOND JOE. ByOll Coomes....  
6 BILL BIDDON. TRAPPED. B(y0Edward 8. Ellis... 5c
‘7 TREFLYINGYANREE. By 1. Ingraham ..... .. 5c
2 8 8m JONEs. By Edward s. Ellis . . . .  . . . . .. 5c
911‘“ ADVENTUREs or BARON MUNCRAUEEN... . .. 5c
.10NATTODD. ByEdwsI-d S.Elils. .   .5c
1 TEE Two DETECTIVE. By Albert W. Aiken... 5c
mGULLIVER's TRAVELs. .. . . . . . . . . . .  5c
H By 011 Games . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 50
14ALAan.... . . . . .. ... . . . . . . . . . . . . ..5c
15 TEE SEA CAT. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.. 5c

ionosmsON Causes .  . . . . . .. ..
;. 17 RALDR ROY. By Col Prentiss Ingraham. 
'ISBINDRADTNE SAILOR... ..   .Abc
.119 TR: PRANToN SPY. ByBuflalo Bill . . . . . .  5c

.' 91 FRONTIER ANGEL. B Edward S.  5c
 Tu SEA SERrENT. Col.Juan  5c
‘6 NICE 0' TR: NIGHT. By T. C. Harbaugh..  5c

' 94 DIANOND DIRK. By 001. Prentiss Inmham. .. 5c
1 a . BOY CAY‘TAI‘. By Roger Stareuck  50
I, .M VEN ROOF. rm: DEMON. By E. L. Wheeler.. to
I ANT-Lora ARE. THE BOY Gun. Oil Coomen .. be

I“,

..h.
,...6‘

1155

28 BUEEALO BEN. By Edward L. Wheeler . . . . .. 5c

29 THE DUMB I’AGE. By Capt. F. Whittaker.....
30 ROARING RALPH ROCKWOOD. By H. St. George.
31 KEEN-KNIFE. By Oll Coomes . . . . . . . . . . ..
82 Ben WooLE. By Edward L. Wheeler . . . . . . ..

33 THE OCEAN BLOODHOUND. By S. W. Pierce. . .. .
34 OREGON SOL. By Capt. J. l“. 0. Adams . . . . .. . 50
By Edward L. Wheeler . . . . . . . . .. '

35 WILD IVAN.
36 THE BOY CLOWN.
37 THE HIDDEN LODGE.
38 NED WYLDE. By Texas Jack

By Frank S. Finn
By ’1‘. C. IIarbaugb . . ..

. . . . -)
"iii DEATH-FACE, TIIE 1’1C’l‘lii7'l‘lVE. By E. L. Wheeler .

40 ROVINO BEN.
41 lasso JACK.
4'3 'I‘IIE PHANTOM MINER.

By John J. Marshall. .. ..
By ()ll L‘Oomes .  . 
By Ed. L. Wheeler. .

4:) DICR DARLING. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker .

4i RATTLING RVBE. Byl ari'v St. George 
45 OLD AVALANCHE. B7 Edward L. Wheeler...
46 GLASS-EYE. By Capt. J. F. (7. Adams

47 NIGRTINGALE NAT.
48 BLACK JORN, TIIE ROAD~AGENT. J .‘E. Badger, Jr
49 OMAHA OLL. By Edward L. Wheeler........ . ..
50 BURT BUNKER. By Charles E. Lasalle. . .  . . .
51 THE BOY RIFLES. By Archie C. Iron. . . . 
52 TIIE WHITE BUEFAIA). By Charles E. Lasalle...
53 JIM BLUDSOE, JR. By Edward L. Wheeler. . . ..
54 NED HAZEL. B
55 DEADLY-EYE.
56 NICK WRIEELEs’s PET. By J. l“. C. Adams. . ..
57 DEADWOOD DICK‘s EAGLES. By E. L.Wheeler..
58 THE BORDER KING. By Ch Coomes . . . . . . . . . . ..
59 OLD HICKORY. By Barry St. Geor'e . . . . . . ..
60 TIIE WRITE INDIAN. By J. F. C. A( ams. 
61 BUCEIIORN BILL. By Edward L. Wheeler .. . ..
62 THE SHADOW SHIP. By Col. P. in raham.....
M TEE RED BROTIIERROOD.
04 DANDY JACK. By T. C. Harbauizh. . . . . . . . . . ..
65 HURRICANE BILL. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr 
66 SINGLE HAND. By W. J. Hamilton . . . . . . . . . . ..
67 PATENT-LEATHER. JOE. By Phill S. Warne...
68 TIIE BORDER ROBIN HOOD. By ufl'alo Bill....
69 GOLD RIFLE. By Edward L. heeler . . . . . . . ..
70 OLD ZIr’s CABIN. By J. F. C. Adams . . . . . . . ..
71 DELAWARE DICK. By Oll Coomes..... .. .. 
72 MAD TOM WESTERN. By W. J. Hamilton... . ..
73 DRADwoon DICK ON DECK. By E. L. Wheeler..
74 HAWK-EYE HARRY. By OllCoomes........ 
?5 THE BOY DUELIsr. By Col. P. lngraham  .
2'6 AnE COLT. TIIE CRow KILLER. B A. W. Aiken.
7‘7 CORDUROY CHARLIE. By Edwari L. Wheeler.
78 BLUE DICK. By Captain Mayne Reid.  . .
79 SOL GINGER. TEE GIANT TRAPPER. A.W. Aiken.
80 RDsEDUD Ros. B Edward L. Wheeler...

81 LIGHTNING JOE. By Captain J. F. C. Adams.. .
82 KIT HAREEOOT. y T. C. Harbaugh . . . . . . . . . ..
83 ROLLO. THE BOY RANGER. B 011 Coomes.. ..
84 IDYL. THE GIRL MINER. By .d. L. Wheeler ..
85 BUCK BUCRRAE. B Ca Iain J. F. 0. Adams...
86 DANDY ROCK. By . . ..
87 THE LAND PIRATEs. By Capt. Mayne Raid... ..
88 PRC/romer PHIL. By Edward L. Wheeler....
89 Ist JIE. By Bracebridge Hem ng . . . . . . . ..
90 THE DREAD RIDER. By G. Waldo rowne. 
91 THE CAPTAIN or THE CLUB. By Bracebridge

aldo Browne

Hemyni . . . . .. . . . . . .. .. . . . . . . . . . ..
92 CANADA ‘IIET. By Edward L. Wheeler... . . . ..
93. THE BOY MINERs. B Edward 8. Ellis...' 

94 MIDNIGHT JACII. By . C. Hal-ban h  .
95 TEE RIVAL ROVERs. By Lieut. CO . Hazeltine.
96 WATCH-EYE. By Edward L. Wheeler. 
97 THE Onmw BROTHERS. By J. J. Marshall...
98 Beam HOOD. By Prof. Stewart Gildersleeve...
99 TEE TIGER or TAos. By George W. Browne...
100 DEADWOOD DICK IN LEADVILLE. BK Wheeler.
101 JACK HARKAWAY IN NEw YORK. y Brace‘
bridgeHemfing.....   .
102 DICK DEAD- YE. Bv Col. Prentiss Ingraham..
108 TEE LION or TEE EA. By Col. Delfe Sara...
104 DEADWOOD DICK's DEVICE. B Ed. L. Wheeler.
105 OLD RUEE.TRE HUNTER. B apt. H. Holmes .
106 OLD FRosTY. THE GUIDE. y T. C. Harbaugh..
107 ONE-EYED SIN. By J. L. Bowen . . , . . . . . . . 
108 DARING DAVY. By Harry St. Geo  . 
109 DEADme DICK As DETECTIVE. Wheeler
110 THE BLACK STEED or TLE PRAIRIEs. y Bowen
111 TEE SEA-DEVIL. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham..
112 TEE MAD HUNTER. By Burton Saxe 
116 JACR HOYLI. By Edward L. Wheeler.. .
114 THE BLACK SCROONER. By Roger Siarbuck. ..
115 TEE MAD MINER. By G. aldo Browne . . . . . .
116 TEE HussAR CAPTAIN. B Col. 1’. In ham.
117 Gmr-EDGED DICK. By ward L. W eeler...
118 WILL Seuss, TEE BOY DETECTIVE. Mania.
119 MUETANG SAN. By Jos. E. Badger. r ....... ..
120 BRANDED HAND. By Frank Dumont... ..
121 CINNANON Carr. By Edward L. Wheeler.... ..
122 PRIL HARDY. TEE Boss BOY. By Chas. Morris.
1211 KIOWA CRARLEY. By T. C. Harbaugh ..
124 TIPPY. TEE TnAN. By George Gleason . . . . ..
125 BONANzA BILL. MINER. By E. L. Wheeler. . . ..
121 PICAYUNE PETE. By Charles Morrls..... . .. ..
197 WILD-FIRE. By Frank Dumont ........ ..
128 TEE YOUNG PRIVATEEP By Harry Cavendish.
129 DEADwOOD DICE‘s DOUnLE. By E. L. Wheeler.
1!!) DETECTIVE DICK. By C: arles Morris . .
131 TEE GOLDEN HAND. By Geo e W. Browne.
182 THE HUNTED HUNTER. By ward 8. Ellis
103 Boss BOD. By Edward L. Wheeler .
184 SURE-SHOT 8 . B 011 Coomes...
135 CAPTAIN PAU By (.. D. Clark
136 NIGET-Hwa KIT. By Jos. E.
137 TRE HILPLESS HAND. By Capt.
188 BLONDE BILL. By Edward L. Whee er . . . . . ..
139 JUDGE LYNCH, JR. By T. C. Harbaugh .. 
140 BLUE BLAZER. B Frank Dumont . . . . . . . , ..
141 SOLID SAN. By dward L. Wheeler . . . . . ..
142 HANDsONR HARRY. B Charles Morris . . . . . ..
148 SCAR-FACE SAUL. By ll Coomes. . . . . . . . . . ..
144 DAINTY LANCE, TEE BE SPORT. BK Badger.
145 CAPTAIN FERRET. B lward L. W eeler...
146 SILVER STAR. By 01 Coomes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..
147 WILL WILDEIRE. By Charles Morris . . . . . . . . . ..
148 SHARP SAN. By J. Alexander Patten. .. .. .
149 A GANG or GOLD. By Edward L. Wheeler...
150 LANCE AND Law. By Capt. F. Whittaker. . ..
151. PARTNER PAUL. B Jose 1: E. Badger,Jr....
152 BLACK Bass. By C arlcs orris . . . . . . . . . . . ..
158 EAGLE KIT. TEE BOY DEMON. By 011 Coomes.
154 THE SWORD-HUNTERS. By :apt.F.Whittaker
GOLD TRIGGER. By '1‘. C. Burbank... ..
156 DEADwOOD D10! or DEADwOOD. By Wheeler.
15? MIKE MERRY. By Charles Morris

   
 
 

 

158 FANCY FRANK or COLORADO. B ' Buflalo Bill..
159 TR: LOCI- CAPTAIN. ,By Fred. hittaker. . . ..

By T. C. liarhaugh  ..: ‘ '

Capt. J. F. C. Adams . . . . . . .. 50
y Buflalo Bill . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 5c

By W. . Hamilton . be

0'
O

8'8'8'8'8'8'8’8'8‘8'8‘8‘8'8’8‘ 8'8'8'8'8'8’8‘8'8‘8'8’8‘8‘8‘8‘SSSSSSSSSSXXXSS'S'XSS'S'S'X

88;?8'88'8'88'8'8'8'8'8'8'8'8'8'8'8'88'8'8'

8'8'8'8'

8'88

 

y-sssssssssssss

160 THE BLACK GIANT. By Jos. E. Bad er, Jr... 50
161 NEw YORK NELL. By Edward L. heeler .. 5c
162 WILL WILDEIRE IN TIIE WOODS. By C. Morris. 50
163 LITTLE TEXAS. By Oll Coomes..   .. 5c
164 DANDY ROCK’s PLEDGE. By Geo. W. Browns. 50
165 BILLY BAGGAGE. THE RAILROAD BOY. Morris.. 50
166 HICKORY HARRY. By Ilarry St. George. be
167 ANA SCOTT. By Edward Willem . .. be
108 DEADLY DANE. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. . .. 50
169 TORNADO TOM. BV T. C. Hal-haugh. .. .. 
170 A TRUMP CARD. By Charles Morris . . . . . . . . ..
171 EIIONY DAN. By Frank Dunmnt.
17'2 TIIUNDEIIIIOLT TOM. By Harry St. George. . ..
173 DANDY ROCR‘s RWAL. By Gm. W. Browne. 5c
" BOD ROCKETT. By (‘lInI-li s Morris .. 50
175 CAPTAIN ARIZONA. By l'lilip S. Warne.  5c
176 THE BOY RUNAWAY. By Limit. 1]. D. PERRY.. be
177 NODDY NICK OE NEVADA. ’.y E. L. Wheeler.. 50
178 OLD SOLITARY. By Oll (Tomes. .   c
179 BOD ROCKETT, TIIE BANK RV'NNER. By Morris. be
180 THE SEA TRAILER. Lient. II. D. Perry. U. S. N. be
181 WILD FRANK or MONTANA. By E. L. Wheeler. 50
16': LITTLE HI'RPICANE. By 011 ('oomes . . . . . . . . .. 50
163 TIIE HIDDEN HAND. By Chas. Morris . . . . . . .. be
181 THE BOY TRAILERS. lily Jos. E. Badger, Jr. . 5c
185 EVIL EYE. By Frank mmont . . . . . . . . .. 50
186 (,‘OOI. DESMOND. By (‘01. Dells Sara...  .. be
167' FRED HALYARD. B I (has. Morris .. .  . 5c
186 NED TEMPLE. By . C. Harbaugh  Dc
189 BOB ROCKET'I‘, THE ('RAI-KsnAN. By 0. Morris be
190 DANDY DARRE. By Wm. B. Evster  .  50
191 BifrrALo BILLY. By Capt. A. B. Taylor,U.S.A. Sc
192 CAPTAIN KIT. By Lieut. H. D. Perry U.S.N. 5c
193 THE LADY ROAD-AGENT. By Phili S. Warns be
194 BI'FFALO BILL‘s BET. Capt. A. B. aylor.U.S.A Be
195 DEADWOOD DICK’s DREAM. B E. L. Wheeler. be
196 SHADOWED. By Charles Mo 3 ..  .. be
197 LITTLE GRIT. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.... be
198 ARRANsAw. By T. 1‘. Durban h.   .. . 50
199 FEATHERWEICIIT. By Edwar Willett . . . . .. 5c
200 THE BOY BEDOUINs. By Capt. F. Whittaker. 5c
201 THE BLACK HILIs J EZEEEL. E. L. Wheeler.. be
202 PROSPECT PETE. By 0" Coomes. . .. . 
203 THE BOY l’ARDs. Jos. E. Badger, Jr . . . . . . . . .. 5c
204 GOLD PLUME. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham  be
205 DEADWOOD DICK's DOOM. By E. L. Wheeler. be
206 DARK PAUL. TEE TIGER KING. B C. Morris. 5c
207 NAVAJO Nli'K. By T. C. Harbaug . . . . . . . . .. 5c
208 THE BOY HERCULEs. By Oll Coomes . . . . . ..
209 FBsz THE BOUND-BOY DETECTIVE. Wheeler. 50
210 FARO FRANK or HIGH PIN BE W. R. Eyster. .. 5c
adger. r . . . . . .. 5c

211 CROOIIED CAIB. By Jos. E.
212 DAsnING DAVE. By Charles Morris..  .. be
218 FRITZ T0 TEE FRONT. By E. L. Wheeler.. . .. 5c
214 WOLIIGANG. By Cast. Frederick Whittaker.. 5c
215 CAPTAIN BULLET. y T. C. Harbaugh 
216 BIsON BILL. By Col. Prentiss In aham . . . . ..
217 CAPTAIN CRACK-SHOT. By E. L. heeler.. .
218 TIGER TON. -B on Coomes 
219 DEsPARD, TRE UELIST. By Philip S. Warne. 50
220 TOM TANNER. By Charles orris . . . . . . . . . .. 50
221 SUGAR-COATED SAM. By Edward L. Wheeler. be
222 GRIT, TIIE BRAVO SPORT. B Col. Ingraham. be
223 OZARK ALE. By Edward Wilett ..  .. 5c A
224 DASEING DICK. By Oll Coomes. ..  .. be
225 SAN CHARCOAL, THE PREEIIIN DARKY. By
CharlesMOrrls......   . . . . . . . . . ..5c
w SNOOZER. THE BOY SHARP. By E. L. Wheeler. 50
227 DUSRY DARREL, By E. Emerson...
228, LITTLE WILDEIRE. B Oil Coomes.
229 CRINsON KATE. By 01. Prentiss Infahmn..
230 THE YANKEE RAIAR. B C. D. 0er ....... ..
231 PLUCKY PHIL. By T. C. arbaugh . . . . . . . . ..
232 GOLD-Dusr DICK. By E. L. Wheeler.. . 
213 JOE BUCK or ANGELs. By Albert W. Aiken. 50
234 BENITO, THE YOUNG HORSE-anR. By

.—
..

S'S‘S'S'

8'83

S'S'S'S'

Buckskin Sam . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .
285 SRADOw SAN. Tm: MassENOER BOY. By

CharlesMorI-is.... . .  . . . . . . . . ..
226 APOLLO BILL. ByEdwsrd L.Wheeler... .. .5c
237 LONE STAR, TEE COWBOY CAPTAIN. By 001.

Prentiss Ingraham. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..

238 TEE PARsON DETECTIVE. BK Oll Coomes .. 50
239 THE GOLD-SEEKER GUIDE. y Mayne Reid... be
240 CYCLONE KIT. By Edward L. Wheeler..
211 BILL BRAVO AND HIs BEAR PARDs. ByT
Harbaugh ..    . . . . . ..
1242 Tan he ‘Bmons.’ By (harles Morris.. 
248 TEE DIsGUIsED GUIDE. By 011 Coomes.
214 SIERRA SAN. TR: FRONTIER Fm".
wardL.Wheeler .. . ..  ..
245 MERLE, TEE MIDDY. B Prentiss Inga-sham. 50
246 GIANT GEORGE. By Buc skinSaIn ..  ..
247 OLD GRIZZLY AND Hrs PRTs. By Contain
“Bruin“Adams .   . . . . . . . ..
248 SIERRA SAN's SECRET. ByE. L. Wheeler .
249 MILO Rona. By Captain Fred.Whittaker. ..
250 MIDsRIPNAN MUTnInR. By Col. P. Ingraham.
251 LIGIIT-Ronss LIGE. B J. F. C. Adams ..... ..
252 DICK DAsIIAwAY. By arles Morris . . . . . ..
253 SIERRA SAN’s PARD. B E. L. Wheeler . . . . ..
254 THE HALE BLOOD. 'By dward 8. Ellis. .. .
255 CAPTAIN APOLLO. By T. C. Harbaugh. .. 
256 YOUNG KENTUCK. By ('aptain Mark Wilton
257 THE LosT HUNTERs. BY J. F.(‘. Adams... .
958 SIERRA SAN's SEVEN. By E. L. Wheeler....
259 THE GOLDEN HARPOON. B Roger Starbuck.
200 DARE-DEVIL DAN. By 011 loomes . . . . . .. .
261 anus FEARNAUGRT. By George L. Alken..
262 TR: YOUNG SLEUTas. By Charles Morris. ..
268 DEADwoon Dch's DIVIDE. By E. L. Wheeler.
264 TEE FLOATING FEATHER. B Col. Inmham. 5c.
265 TEE TIGER TAIIER. By Cap . F. Whittaker..
206 KILLE‘AR. THE GUIDE. By Ensl
Dudley Warren. (or the Engineer orps.  . ..
267 THE BUCNsKIN DETECTIVE. By Hubaugh...
268 DEADwoon Drcx‘s DEATH TRAIL. B
wer L. Wheeler . .
269 Tim GOLD Sm. By Col. Prentiss In ham.
270 BLIzzARD BEN. .By Calgsin MarkW ton.
271 TEE HUG-E HUNTER. Edward 8. Ellis. ..
272 MINxsKIN Mm. EgyOll Coomes. .  
273 JUMBO JOE. By ward L. Wheeler... 
274 JOLLY JIN. By Charles Morris
275 ARIZONA JACK. B Buckskin Sam . . . . . . ..
276 MERLE Mom's UIsR. By Col. Prentiss
lngraham..  .  
277 DENVER DOLL. By Edward L. Wheeler... .. 5c
- A new new awry T uesduy.

The Half-Dim:- thrnry is for sale by all
Newsdealers. five cents per co
on receipt of six cents each.
Publishers, 98 William street, New York.

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BEADLE’SrDIMErflBRARY.

 

BY \VILLIAIVI R. EYSTER.

145 Pistol Pards; or, The Silent Sport from Cinnabar.

160 Soft Hand, Sharp; or, The Man with the Sand.

182 Hands Up; or, The Knights of the Canyon.

192 The Lightning Sport. -

214 Tile Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Gulch.

229 Captain Cutslceve; or. The Little Sport.

268 Magic Mike, the Man of Frills. ‘

300 A Snort in Spectacles; or, The Bad Time at
Bunco.

333 Derringer Dick. tile Man with the Drop.

344 Double Shot Dave of the Left Hand.

856 Thr e Handsome Sports; or, The Double Com-
bination.

375 Royal George, the Three in One.

396 The Piper Detective.

402 Snapshot Sam; or. The Angels’ Flat Racket.

429 Hair Trigger Torn of Red Bend.

BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID.
8 The Headless Horseman; A Strange Story of
Texas.
12 The Death-Shot; or, Tracked to Death.
55 The Scalp Hunters. A Romance of the Plains.
66 The Specter Barque. A Tale of the Pacific.
74 The Captain of the Rifles; or, The Queen of the
’es
200 The Rifle Rangers; or, Adventures in Mexico.
208 The White Chief. A Romance of Northern Mex-
lco.
213 The War Trail; or, The Hunt of the Wild Horse.
21") The Wild Huntress; or, The Squatter's Ven-
geance.
228 The Maroon. A Tale of Voodoo and Obeah.
234 The Hunter‘s Feast. -
267 The White Squaw.

6
BY CAPT. FRED. WHITTAKEB.

89 The Russian Spy; or, The Starry Cross Brothers.
65 The Red Rajah; or, The Scourge of the Indies.
69 The Irish Captain. A Tale of Fontenoy.
96 Double Death; or, The Spy of Wyoming.
98 The Rock Rider; or, The Spirit of the Sierra.
108 The Duke of Diamonds.
115 The Severed Head; or, The Secret of Castle
Coucy.
132 Nemo, King of the Tramps.
159 Red Rudiger, the Archer.
174 The Phantom Knights.
187 The Death‘s Head Cuirassiers.
198 The Man in Red.
206 One Eye. the Cannoneer.
211 Colonel Plunger; or, The Unknown Sport.
215 Parson Jim, King of the Cowboys.
226 The Mad Hussars; or, The 0’s and the Mac's.
280 The Flying Dutchman of 1880.
24.2 The Fog Devil; or, The Skipper of the Flash.
247 Alligator Ike; or, The Secret of the Everglade.
253 A Yankee Cossack; or.The Queen of the Nihilists.
265 Old DoublevSword; or, Pilots and Pirates.
272 Seth Slocum. Railroad Surveyor.
27-7 The Saucy Jane, Privateer.
284 The Three Frigates; or, Old Ironsidcs' Revenge.
290 The Lost Corvette; or, Blakeley’s Last Cruise.
2% Old Cross-Eye. the Maverick-Hunter.
808 Top-Notch Tom, the Cowboy Outlaw.
810 The Marshal of Satanstown; or, The Cattle-
Lifters' League.

' 826 The Whitest Man in the Mines.

878 John Armstrong. Mechanic.

406 Old Pop Hicks, Showman.

412 Larry Locke. the Man of Iron.

445 Journeyman John, the Champion.

BY NEWTON M. CURTISS.

120 The Texan Spy; or. The Prairie Guide.

954 Giant Jake, the Patrol 0! the Mountain.

BY JACKSON KNOX—“ Old Hawk.”

366 Hawk Heron. the Falcon Detective.

424 Hawk Heron's Deputy.

444 The Magic Detective; or. The Hidden Hand.
451 Grlplock, the Rocket Leteciive.

‘87 The Silent Hunter. ,
86 The Big Hunter; or. The Queen of the Woods.

 

 

BY CAPTAIN lVIA BK \VILTON.

176 Lady Jaguar. the Robber Queen.

191 Don Sombrero. the California Road Gent.
202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide.

219 The Scorpion Brothers; or, Mad Tom’s Mission.
7223 Canyon Dave, the Man of the Mountain.

227 Buckshot Ben, the Man-Hunter of Idaho.
237 Long-Hairel Max; or, The Black League.
215 Barranca Bill, the Revolver Champion.

258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo.

263 iron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback Destroyer.
266 Leopard Luke, the King of Horse-Thieves.
271 Stoneflst, of Big Nugget Bend.

276 Texas Chick. the Southwest Detective.

285 Lightning Bolt, the Canyon Terror.

291 Horseshoe Hank. the Man of Big Luck.

305 Silver-Plated Sol, the Montana Rover.

311 Heavy Hand; or, The Marked Men.

323 Hotspur Hugh; or, The Banded Brothers.

BY SAM S. HALL—“ Buckskin Sam.”

8 Kit Carson, J r., the Crack Shot.
90 Wild Will, the Mad Ranchero.
178 Dark Dashwood, the Desperate.
186 The Black Bravo: or, The Tonkaway’s Triumph.

191 The Terrible Tonkaway; or, Old Rocky and his
Pards.

195 The Lone Star Gambler;
Maid.

199 Diamond Dick, the Dandy from Denver.

204 Big Foot Wallace, the King of the Lariat.

212 The Brazos Tigers; or. The Minute Men.

217 The Serpent of El Paso; or. Frontier Frank.
221 Desperate Duke, the Guadeloupe “ Galoot.’

225 Rocky Mountain A1; or, The Wait 01’ the Range.
289 The Terrible Trio; or. The Angel of the Army.
244 Merciless Mart. the Man Tiger of 

250 The Rough Riders; or. Sharp Eye the Scourge.
256 Double Dan the Dastard; or, The Pirates.

264 The Crooked Three.

269 The Bayou Bravo; or, The Terrible Trail.

273 Mountain Mose. the Gorge Outlaw.

282 The Merciless Marauders; or, Carl’s Revenge.
287 Dandy Dave and his Horse, White Stocking.

298 Stg'mpede Steve; or, The Doom of the Double
ace.

801 Bowlder Bill; or, The Man from Taos.

809 Rayboid, the Rattling Ranger.

822 The Crimson Coyotes; or Nita the Nemesis.
828 King Kent; or. The Bandits of the Bason.
842 Blanco Bill. the Mustang Monarch.

858 The Prince of Pan Out.

871 Gold Buttons; or. The Up Range Panda.

or, The Magnolias

BY DB. J. H. ROBINSON.

18 Pathaway; or, Nick Whimes. the old Nor‘west
Trapper.

17 Nightshade: or. The Robber Prince.
22 Whiteiaw; or. Nattie of the Lake Shore.

87 Hirl, the Hunchback; or, The Santee Sword-
maker.

58 Silver Knife: or. The Rocky Mountain Ranger.
70 Hydrabad. the Strangler.
78 The Kni hts of the Red Cross; .

of“. or The Granada

168 Ben Brion; or, Redpath, the Avenger.

BY FRANCIS JOHNSON.
25 The Gold Guide; or. Steel Arm, Regulator.
so The Death Track; or, The Mountain Outlaws.
128 Alapaha the Squaw; or, The Border Renegades.

124 Assowaum the Avenger; or, The Doom of the
Destroyer.

135 The Bush Ranger: or. The Half-Breed Rajah.
186 The Outlaw Hunter; or, The Bush Bangor.
18 The Border Bandit; or. The Horse Thlet‘s Trail.

BY Gnomes: 81'. 030mm.
296 Duncan. the Sea Diver.
417 Tucson Tom; or, The Fire Trailers.

BY 0. DUNNING CLARK.
164 The King’s Fool.
183 Gilbert the Guide.

 

Published Every lVednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers.

BY COL. THOMAS H. MONSTEBY.

82 Iron Wrist, the Swordrnaster.

126 The Demon Duelist; or, The League of SteeL
143 The Czar’s Spy; or, The Nihilist League.

150 El Rubio Bravo. King of the Swordsmen.

157 Mourad, the Mameluke; or, The Three Sword-
masters.

169 Corporal Cannon. the Man of Forty Duels.

2‘36 Champion Sam; or, The Monarchs of the Show.
262 Fighting Tom. the Terror of the Touzhs.

332 Spring-Heel Jack; or, The Masked Mystery.

BY ISAAC HAWKS, Ex-Detective.

232 Orson Oxx; or, The River Mystery.
240 A Cool Head; or, Orson On in Peril. " ,

BY PROF. J. H. INGRAHAM.

113 The Sea Slipper; or, The Frocbooters. . r
118 The Burglar Captain; or. The Fallen Star. -
314 Lafitte; or. The Pirate of the Gulf.

816 Lafitte’s Lieutenant; or, Child of the Sea.

BY GUSTAVE A IMABD.

15 The Tiger Slayer; or, Eagle Heart to the Rescue.

19 Red Cedar. the Prairie Outlaw. 1;

20 The Bandit at Bay; or, The Prairie Pirates. 1 

21 The Trapper’s Daughter; or, The Outlaw’s Fate. I '

24 Prairie Flower.

6'2 Loyal Heart: or, The Trappers of Arkansas. ‘
149 The Border Rifles. A Tale of the Texan War. 1 i.-
151 The Freebooters. A Story of the Texan War. —'
153 The White Scalper. (5

MISCELLANEOUS. 2*

6 Wildcat Bob, the Boss Bruiser. By Edward I... l ‘-

Wheeler. ~ 1

9 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. , -"’

10 Vidocq, the French Police Spy. Written by ‘
himself.

11 Midshipman Easy. By Captain Maryatt. 

32 B’hoys of Yale; or. The Scrapes of Collegians. s

60 Wide Awake, the Robber King. By Frank Du- ‘
mont. '

68The Fightin Tra r. Ca tain J. r. .  I
A a. s ppe By p. o ,

76 The Queen’s Musketeers. By George Albany.
78 The Mysterious Spy. By Arthur M. Grainger.
102 The Masked Band' or, The Man without a Name. "
By George L. en. ~'
110 The Silent Rifleman. By E. W. Herbert.

125 The Blacksmith Outlaw; or, Merrie England.
By Harrison Ainsworth.

188 Body the Rover. By William Carleton.
140 The Three Spaniards. By Geo. Walker. ‘.
144 Thus Hunchback of Notre Dame: By Victor. :31

ugo. "
146 The Doctor Detective. By George Lemuel. 
152 Captain Ironnerve. the Counterfeitcr Chief.
158 The Doomed Dozen. By Dr. Frank Powell.
166 0313:, the Robber Prince. By Septimus I

an. '

179 Conrad, the Convict. By Prof. Glidersioove. ‘
190 The Three Guardsmen. By Alexander Dumas.

an Black Sam, the Prairie Thunderbolt. ' ’
Jo Yards. 8’ 00L. 

275 The Smuggler Cutter; , The Cavern in flu

Cliff. By J. D. Conroy? ,.

812 Kinkfoot Kind, the Mountain Scourge. nylon - -
ng. .

rur Redw
880 Cong Cno‘lst, the Quaker City Detective. By Charles
0 .
850 Nitshcggllfon, the Society Detective. By Weldon
858 Bart Brennan; or. The King 01' Straight Flat.-
‘ BV John Cuthbert. ‘  .1
use Th): Telegraph Detective. By George Henry  ‘ ~.
orse. '3

410 Sarah Brown, Detective. By K. F. Hill.
4% Threeaying Glim; or. The Island Lune. By Loon.
s.

 

A new issue every Wednesday. '12“

Radio’- Dime Library is for sale by all
Newsdealern, ten cents per cop}. or sent by null on
receipt of twelve cents each. BEADLE & ADAM,

 

 

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I. g Egk Magic, Detective.

BEADLE’S*DIME*HBRARY.

 

 

Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers.

 

BY COL. PBEN'I‘ISS INGRAIIAM.

2 The Dare Devil; or, The Winged S-a Witch.

85 The Cretan Rovor; or, Zuleikah the Beautiful.
8) The Pirate Prince; or. The Queen of the Isle.

94 Freelance. the Buccaneer.

108 Merle, the Mutineer; or, The Red Anchor Brand.
104 Montezuma. the Merciless.
109 Captain Kyd. the King of the Black Flag.
116 Black Plume; or. The Sorceress of Hell Gate.
121 The Sea Cadet; or. The Rover of the Rigoletts.
128 The Chevalier Corsair; or The Heritage.
181 Buckskin Sam. the Texas Trailer.

184 Darke ' Dan, the Colored Detective.
189 Fire e; or. The Bride of a Buccaneer.
1417 Gold pur. the Gentleman from Texas.
155 The Corsair Queen: or. The Gypsies of the Sea.
162 The Mad Mariner; or. Dishonored and Disowncd
168 Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot.

172 Black Pirate; or The Golden Fetters Mystery.
177 Don Diablo. the Planter-Corsair.

181 The Scarlet Schooner; or. The Sea Nemesis.
184 The Ocean Vampire; or. The Castle Heiress.
189 Wild Bill‘s Gold frail; or. The Des erate Dozen.
1% The Skeleton Schooner; or. The Sk mmer.

905 The Gambi »r Pirate; or. Lady of the Lagoon.
210 Buccaneer Bess. the Lioness of the Sea.

216 The Corsair Planter; or. Driven to Doom.

2i) The Specter Yacht; or, A Brother’s Crime.

224 Black Beard, the Buccaneer.

81 The Kid Glove Miner; or. The Magic Doctor.

285 Red Li htning the Man of'Chance.

946 ueen elen, the Amazon of the Overland.
255 he Pirate Priest; or. The Gem bler‘s Da hter.
S9 Cutlass and Cross' or, the Ghouls of the .
281 TheSea-Owl; or. e Lad Ca tain of the Gulf.
'80? The Phantom Pirate; or, T e ater Wolves.

818 The indian buccaneer; or. The Red Rovers.

825 TheGentiemnn Pirate; or. The Casco Hermite. "

899 The League of Three or. Buffalo Bill’s Pledge.

886 The Magic Ship; or. Sandy Hook Freebmters.

841 The Sea Desperado.

646 Ocean Guerrilias; or. Phantom Midshi man.

862 Buffalo ill‘s Grip; or Oath Bound to uster.

864 The Sea u tive; or, The Queen of the Coast.

869 The Coast orsair; or, The Siren of the Sea.

878 Sailor of Fortune; or, The Barne at Buccaneer.

877 Afloat and Ashore; or. The Coraa r Cons irator.

888 The Giant Buccaneer; or. The Wrecker itch.

'898 The Convict Captlan; or, The Battles of the
Buccaneers.

399 The New Monte Cristo.

418 The Sea Siren' or. The Fugitive Privateer.

4% ,The ea Sword; or. The Ocean Rivals.

no The oral Frigate- or. Rivals in Love and War.

485 The One-Armed uccaneer.

'446 Ocean Ogre: the Outcast Corsair.

BY OLL COOMES.

, 7 Death-Notch. the Destroyer.
48' Dakota Dan. the Reckless Ran or.
44 Old Dan Rackhack the Great xtarminator.
.46 B mic-Knife Ben. the Nor‘west Hunter.
" 48 idaho Tom the Young Outlaw of Silveriand.
51 Red Rob, tile Boy Road-Agent.
.' 99 The Giant Riflemsn; or. lid Camp Life.
187 Long Beard. the Giant Spy.
’ 14B One~Armod Alf. the Giant Hunter.

V'BY CAPTAIN HOWARD HOLMES.

a Hercules Goidspur the Man of the Velvet Hand.
Broadcloth Burt. the Denver Dandy.
821 California Claude, the Lone Bandit.

, 885 Flash Dan: the Naboh; or. Blades of Bowie Bar.
’ 840 Cool Conrad. the Dakota Detective.

847 Denver Duke. the Man with " Sand."
" 852 The Des

porate Dozen.
v "865 Keen Kennard, the Shasta Shadow.
- . 874.11ajor Blister, the Sport of Two Cities. '

The Bonanza Band; or Dread Don of Cool Clan.
898 The Lost Bonanza; or. The Boot of Silent Hound.
no Captain Coldgrlp; or. The New York Spotter.
1111; Captain Coldgrlp s Nerve' or. Injun Nick.

v tain Coldiri in New ork.
. .. ather Ferre t o Frisco Shadow.
I 484 Lucifer Lynx. the Wonder Detective.

441 The California Sleuth.

‘ I .447 Voicano, the Frisco Spy.

BY ANTHONY P. MORRIS.
5 The Fire Fiends; or, Hercules. Hunchback.
N Ashort. the Amen; or. The Palace Secrets.
1a) The ranch Spy- or. The Bride of Paris.
I: of Stee Tale of Love and Terror.

r.‘ 1 The
’i: I.  Man Snider; or. The Beautiful Sphinx.t1
tee vs.

’8 Hook Hound the Crescent Cit

‘0 The Masked story; or. The

'H Electro Pete. t e Man of Fire.
Roughs of Richmond.

lack Crescent.

Tl'irohfiipher Detective; or, Mark Maglc‘s New

‘8 '848 The Head Hunter; or. Mark Magic in the line.
I ’W Jack Simona. Detective.

‘ is! mason nssmn noose nnmos'r.

” filver Sam, the Detective; or, The Butte City

rs.
.aso Colonel Double-Edge. the Cattle Baron's Ford.
411 The White Crook; or. Old Hark’s Fortress.
no The Old River Sport; or, A Man of Honor.
as Salamander Sam.

 

BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. W. F. Cody).

52 Death-Trailer. the Chief of Scouts.

83 Gold Bullet S rt; or. Knights of the Overland.
243 The Pilgrim har ; or. The Soldier's Sweetheart.
804 Texas Jack. the rairie Rattler.

819 Wild Bill. the Whirlwind of the West.

894 White Beaver. the Exile of the Platte.

897 The Wizard Brothers; or. White B -aver's TraiL
401 One-Armed Ford; or. Borderland Retribution.
414 Red Renard, the Indian Detective.

BY MAJOR DANGEBFIELD BUBB.

92 Buffalo Bill, the Buckskin King.
117 Dashing Dandy; or. The. Hoispur of the Hills.
142 Ca tain Crimson. the Man of the iron Face.
156 Ve vet Face, the Border Bravo.
175 Wild Bill‘s Trump Card; or. The lndi‘an Heiress.
188 The Phantom Mazeppa; or. The Hyena.
448 Hark Kenton. the Traitor.

BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR.

2S Three-Fingered Jack. the Road-Agent.
80 Gospel Geo e; or, Fier Fred. the Outlaw.
40 Lon -Haire Pards; or, he Tarters of the Plains.
45 Old uli's-Eye. the Lightning Shot.
47 Pacific Pete, the Prince of the Revolver.
50 Jack Rabbit, the Prairie S rt.
64 Double-Si ht, the Death S 0t.
67 The Boy ockey; or, Honest vs. Crookednoss.
71 Captain Cool Blade; or, Miss ssip i Man Shark.
88 Big George; or. The Five Outlaw rothers.
105 Dan Brown of Denver; or. The Detective.
119 Alabama Joe; or. The Yazoo Man-Hunters.
127 Sol Scott. the Masked Miner.
141 Equinox Tom the Bul’y of Red Rock.
154 Joaquin, the Saddle King.
16’) Joaquin. the Terrible.
170 SWeet William, the Trapper Detective.
11!) Old ‘49; or. The Amazon of Arizona.
197 Revolver Rob' or. The Belle of Nugget Com .
20) Pirate of the Pincers; or. J caquin‘s Death unt.
238 The Old iioy of Tombstone.
241 S itflre Saul. Kin of the. Rustlers.
219 ‘ ephant Tom. 0 Durango.
W Death Trap Diggings; or. A Hard Man from
'Way Back.
288 Sleek Sam, the Devil of the Mines.
286 Pistol Johnny; or. One Man in a Thousand.
299 Moke Homer. the Boss Roustabout.
802 Faro Saul, the Handsome Hercules.
817 Frank Lightfoot, the Miner Detective.
894 Old Forked ng‘htnln". the Solitarg.
881 Chispa Charle . the Gold Nugget port.
889 S read Eagle in. the Hercules Hide Hunter.
845 , asked Mark, the Mounted Detective.
851 Nor' West N ick. the” Border Detective.
355 Stormy Steve. the Mad Athlete.
860 Jumpi Jerry, the Gamecock from Sundown.
867 A Roya Flush; or, Dan Brown’s Big Game.
872 Captain Crisp. the Man with a Record.
879 Howling J onathan, the Terror from Headwaters.
887 Dirk Du . the ishmaei of the Hills.
895 Deadly A m. the Duke of Derringers.
408 The Nameless Sport; or. The Kflkenny Cats of

’Way-U .
409 Rob R0 flanch' or, The Imps of Pan Handle.
416 Monte im the Black SheeE of Bismarck.
426 T1; Gliiost Detective; or. T 0 Spy of the Secret
rv ce.
488 Laughing Leo; or, Sam's Dandy Pard.
418 Oklahoma Nick.
443 A Cool Hand; or. Pistol Johnny’s Picnic.

BY EDWARD WI L LETT.

129 Mississippi Mose; or, a Stro Man’s Sacrifice.
909 Buck Farley. the Bonanza see.

228 Bill the Blizzard; or. Red Jack’s Crime.

248 Montana Nat, the Lion of Last Chance Camp.
974 Flush Fred the Mississippi Sport.

289 Flush Fred s Full Hand.

298 Logger Lem; or, Life in the Pine Woods.

308 Hemlock Hank. Tough and True.

815 Flush Fred’s Double- or, The Squatters' League.
327 Terrapin Dick. the Wild wood Detective.

887 Old Gabe, the MOuntaln Tramp.

848 Dan Dillon. King of Crosscut.

868 The Canyon King; or, a Price on his Head.

BY NED BUN'I‘LINE.

14 Thaysndan . the Scourge' or,'l'ho War-Eagle.
16 The White izard; or, The minole Prophet.
18 The Sea Bandit; or, Tne Queen of the Isle.
88 The Red Warrior; or. The Comanche Lover.
61 Captain Seawaif. the Privateer.
111 The Smuggler Ca him or. The Skipper’s Crime.
122 Saul Sabherday. t e Idiot s .
270 Andros the Raver; or The rate’s Daughter.
961 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot.

BY WILLIAM II. MANNING.
979 The Gold Dragoon, or, The California Blood-

hound.
297 Colorado Rube. the Strong Arm of Hotspur.
885 Will Dick Turpin. the Ieadvlllo Lion.
405 Old Baldy. the 811 adier of Buck Basin.
415 Hot Heart, the Do ctiVe S y.
497 The Rivals of Mentana Mil
487 Dee Duke the Silent Sleuth.
442 Wil West sit. the Mountain Veteran.
449 Bluff Burke, King of the Rockies.

 

1

BY COLONEL DELLE SARA.

53 Silver Sam; or, The Mystery of De dwood City.
87 The Scarlet Captain; or. Prisoner of the Tower.
106 Shamus O’Brien, the Bould Boy of Giingal.

BY PHILIP S. WARNE.

1 A Hard Crowd; or. Gentleman Sam‘s Sister.

4 The Kidnap r; or. The Northwest Shanghai.
29 Tiger Dick. aro King; or, The Cashier‘s Crime.
54 Always on Hand; or, The Foot-HMS Sport.

80 A Man of Nerve; or. Caliban the Dwarf.

114 The Gentleman from Pike.

171 Tiger Dick. the Man of the Iron Heart

907 Old Hard Head: or. Whirlwind and his Mare.

251 Tiger Dick vs. iron Despard.

a!) Tiger Dick’s Lone Hand.

299 Three of a Kind; or. Tiger Dick. Iron Despard
and the Sportive Sport.

388 Jack Sands the Boss of the Town.

859 Yellow Jack. the Mestizo.

880 Tiger Dick’s Pied ; or, The Golden Serpent.

401 Silver Sid; or. A ‘ Daisy " Bluff.

431 California Kit, the Always on Hand.

BY J. C. CO‘VDBICK.

890 The Giant Cupid: or Cibuta John‘s Jubilee.

422 Blue Grass Burt. the Gold Star Detective.

436 Kentucky Jean. the S ort from Yellow Pine; or,
Blue-eyed Belle of ended Bow.

BY GEORGE C. JENKS.

398 Sleepless Eye the Pacific Detective.
482 The Giant Horseman; or, Tracidng the Red
CmssGang.

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN.

W The Spotter Detective; 01'. Girls of New York.
81 The New York Shar ;or, The Flash of Lightning.
83 OVerland Kit; or. e ldyi of Whi e Pine.
84 Rocky Mountain Bob. the California Outlaw.
85 Kentuck the Sport: or. Dick Talbot of the Mines.
86 Injun Dick; or. The D uthShot of Shasta.
88 Velvet Hand; or, inj Dick‘s Iron Grip.
41 Gold Dan: or. The White Savage of Salt Lake.
42 The California Detective; or. The Witches of N.Y.
49 Th» Wolf Demon; or. The Kanawha Queen.
56. The Indian Mazeppa; or. Madmen or the Plains.
59 The Man from i‘exas; or. The Arkansas Outlaw.
68 The Winged Whale; or. The Red Rupert of Gulf.
72 The Phantom Hand; or The 5th Avenue Heiress.‘
75 GentlemanGeo e; or. Parlor. Prison and Street.
77 The Fresh of sco: or. The Heiress.
79 Joe Phenix, the Police Sp .
81 The Human Tiger; or. A Heart of Fire.
84 Hunted Down: or. The League of Three.
91 The Winnin Car: or. The Innkeeper’s Daughter.
98 Captain Dic Talbot. Kins of the Road.
97 Bronze J ack. the California Thoroughbred.
101 The Man from New York.
107 Richard Talbot..of Cinnabar.
112 Joe Phenix. Private Detective.
180 Captain Volcano: or. The Man of Red Revolvers.
161 The Wolves of New York' or. Joe Phenlx’s Hunt.
178 California John. the Pacific Thoroughbred.
196 La Marmoset. the Detective Queen.
m8 The Double Detective; or.The Midnight M fiery.
252 The Wall Street Ricod; or. The Tele refit Girl.
320 The Genteel ngttcr; or. The N. Y. ght Hawk.
849 Iron-Hearted t k the Gentleman Road-Agent.
854 Red Richard; 01 The Crimson Cross Brand.
8.! Crownin held. the Sleuth; or. Pituess as Death.
370 The Bus y Detective; or. Pursued to the End.
370 Black ands; or. The Rio Grande Hifih Horse.
881 The vas Gentleman; or Nick Fox, elective.
884 Injun Dic Detective; or. Tracked to New York.
891 Kate Scott. the Decoy Detective.
«18 Doc Grip. the Vendetta of Death.
419 The Bat of the Battery ; or. Joe Phenlx. Detective.
481 The Lone Hand; or, The Red River Recreants.
440 The High Home of the Pacific.

LATEST AND NEW ISSUES.

.450 The Rustler Detective: or. The Bounding Buck

from Buffalo Waliow. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
451 Gri lock, the Rocket Detective. By Jackson

nox.
4553 Rainbow Bob, the Tulip from Texas. 31.1. C.
Cowdrick.
458 Captain Cold i ’3 Lou Trail. Ca thin
Howard Hogs: Ready June 29. By p
454 The Night Raider. By Major Daniel Boone
moot. Ready July 6.

455 Yank Yellowbird. the Tall Hustler of the Hills.
By Wm. H. Manning. Ready July 18.

456 The Demon Steer. By Leon Lewis.
Ready J uiy so.
A new issue every Mdnuday.

Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by all
Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail on
receipt of twelve cents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS. Panama-s.
as William Street. New Test.

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