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V01  Published Emy djeadh g3~ fld'arns, @ublishers, Ten (genuncOp’,
' ' Wedn“d‘7- 93 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y., November 10, 1886. 35-00 3 Y9”-

 

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A Man  Honor.

BY MAJOR DANIEL BOONE DUMONT,
AUTHOR OF “COLONEL DOUBLE-EDGE.” “ SILVER
SAM, DETECTIVE.” " THE WHITE
CROOK." ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER I.
A FALSE FRIEND.

AT a time when Cincinnati was not near the
metropolis it now is, though still a big. bustlina‘,
thriving and populous city, one of the prettiest

laces in the suburbs was a small but. very nice
ouse that “stood in its own grounds," as the
English say.

That is to say. it was surrounded by an orna-
mental yard. filled with flowering plants and
shrubs, and so neatly kept that it attractul the

, notice and admiration of the masons-va who

> « ' I “ “ J. H y A ‘ were wont to envy the owner" and were sure

  »--~~-—-————~-~-~r -r ':-~ "w" -» - —  -  —r  . . -- - wu— r.  ‘ I .V a that the pret?’ house must lvethe abode of peace
A QUICK AND POWERFUL BLOW nu) THE WORK, AND THE YOUTH, WITH A FAlN I and plenty, 0 love and happiness.

FELL BACKWARD AND WAS SWALLOWED UP Big THE MISSISSIPPI.  So it was on the bright June morning that

 

 

 

2 i /

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witnesses the o
of the incident t at furnishes its prolo rue.
“ Holcomb” was the name on the si ver plate

that adorned the front door, and Josiah Hol- '

comb was the owner of the house, whose usual
occu ants were his Wife and two children, with
two emale servants, one of whom was a nurse-

girl.

There they had lived for nearly five years,
and in that part of the city there was not a more
pleasant, respectable and apparently prosperous
family.

Mrs. Holcomb, a bright and attractive young
woman from the interior of Ohio was not only
kn0wn as a model wife and mother, but was a

member in good standing of the Presbyterian -

church near , attending all the services with
conspicuous regularity, and taking agreat in-
terest in all the work of the church.

Though her husband Was not a member, he
was seen there with her occasionally when he
bagened to spend a Sunday in town, and his
c not and emeanor were always most ex-

is business, as he informed his wife and she
informed the neighbors, was that of a dealer in
produce, and it was of such a nature as com-
Elled frequent and long absences, so that Mr.
olcomb, as a rule, was away from home.

He had no office in the city, and his name was
not in the Business Directory: but he was in the
habit, as he said, of purchasing produce in the
country round about, accompanying his ship-
ments to New Orleans, and brin ing hack re-
turn freights of sugar and 0t 01' Southern
staples.

Mrs. Holcomb would have preferred that his
occupation should keep him at home, or allow
him more time there; but it was profitable, and
she had all that she could reasonably desire,
and she was devoted to her children, and hi r
husband was a kind man of good habits, and
under these circumstances it was easy to be
satisfied. ,

The visitors at the pretty home Were mostly
Mrs. Holcomb’s acquaintances, as her husband
seemed to have few friends; but Occasionally he
brought a guest to the house, and the one who
came there the most frequently was Mr. J amcs
Hannafin.

He was a few years younger than Josiah Hol-
comb, and not so gentlemanly in appearance
and manner, there being a suspicion of “loud-
ness” about his drem and eneral style which

was uickly perceived by t 0 8.1911; intelligence '

of 'rs. Holcomb, though she always treated
him well as her husband’s special friend.

It was Mr. James Hanuafin who came saun-
tering up the street alone that bright June
mornin , with a bit of a swagger that was
habitual with him, stopped at the pretty house
and run the front door—bell.

Mrs olcomb had caught sight of him as be
came up the street, from her seat at an lip-stuns
front window; but she did not go to the door to
let hlni in.

She merely “ rimped ” a little before a glass,
as women will 0 from a natural desire to look
their best, and went down to the parlor to re-
ceiye him after the nurse-girl had answered the
be] .

In the parlor she noticed, as she had often
done before, and with t 0 same silent disap-
proval. certain intsa at this yisitcr which
were objectionab e to her.

His mustache was somewhat too long and

I pointed to suit her severe taste; the colors of his

necktie were a little too gaudy; his watch-chain
was rather heavier than it should have been; he
persisted in wearing a spring overcoat though
the weather was warm. and shoes that were
varnished instead of blacked : she did not admire
the style of his laid trow. s. and his voice had
not the mild an gentleman y intonations of her
husband’s.

But there was really nothing about him for
anybody but a toocritical lwrscn 1o i‘nd fault
with. though he had scared himself before he
was invitot to do SO, and Lad placrd his‘hat on
a table instead of holding it in his hand.

“I he , that you and the children are well,”
he said in res mum to her salutation.

“Quite wel , I thank on.”

“I looked in to ask i" Mr. Holcomb has got
back.” _

“ Indeed, no. I do not expect him for several
days yet.”

“ He is away from home a great deal."

“ A great deal, as you say, Mr. Harnafin. I
used to worry about that, but havv become quite
reconciled to it, as his business reqnim s it.”

“ Yes, there is no doubt that his business does
require it. It couldn’t be carried on any other
way. But did it never strike on that it must

be a queer sort of business t at keeps a man ;

away from home so much 2”

Mrs. Holcomb colored a little. There was
something in this visitor’s tone and air which
indicated a purpose that might prove to be
hostile.

“ Not at all,” she answered. “The business
in which he is engaged compels him to make
frequent visits to New Orleans.”

“Other men who buy and sell in New Orleans

don’t have to be going to and from there all the
tune.” N

ning of this story—or, rather,

 

The Old Rlver Sp orto

“ I know nothing about that: but I know
‘ what Mr. Holcomb has to do, and his explana-
i tions have always been perfectly satisfactory to
me. He has gone down the river now in cnarge
of a large shipmen of bacon.”

‘ Bacon is a queer name for it,” observed
Hannaiin with a sneer.

There could no longer be a doubt that the

‘ visitor had some malign object in view, to which
E his talk was gradually leading up.
I “ What do you mean by that, sir?” demanded
I Mrs. Holcomb.

“If he had said lambs or suckers, he would
‘ have come nearer the truth.”

“ I ask you again, Mr. Hannafin, what do you

I mean by that?”
| “ Is it poss1ble, Mrs. Holcomb, that in all the
{ time you have lived with your husband you
I have never known what his business really was?
i Of course you haven‘t, though. You church
I poo in never think of anything of that sort, and
: so ' olcomb has told me again and again that
l he has kept the thing covered from you as close
o
l

 

as close can be. But it is time that the truth
should be known. If you don’t learn it now,
i you may find it out when it will be much worse
j for you, and I think I am doing you a favor in
coming here to tell you what the usiness really
is that keeps your husband away from home so
much.”

Surely some terrible revelation was to be
: made, and Mrs. Holcomb mentally braced her-
- self to receive it.
I What could it be, and why had that man
come there to ufllict her with it:"
i \Vas he going to say that her husband was by
; profession a. burglar, a river pirate, a forger, or
. What?
i The revelation was bound to be made, and the
I sooner the better; so she invited it.

“ that 'is his business, Mr. Hannafin?” she
asked with as much of an air of unconccrn as
she could assume.

Jim I-Iannailn had no doubt come there with
the purpOse of telling.r the exact truth, but at the
same time of putting it in as hard a shape and
as bad a light as he could give it.

“ Your husband,” said he, “is a professional
gambler. That is his business, and he has no
other, and never had any other. Since he was
nineteen cars old he has layed cards for a liv-
l ing, and was never had a ollar but what he has
got hold of in that way. He is known as one of
the sharpest gamblcis on the river, too, and
there’s no nzan who can beat him at etting hold
of other folks’ money. You say t iat he has
gone to New Orleans with a shipment of bacon;
but the fact is that for the past three weeks he
has been running a faro bank in Cairo, and a
dead open and shut game it is, as I well know.”

This was indeed a terrible revelation to the
lady, considering who and what she was, and
it was no wonder that her voice as well as her
hands trembled as she answcred.

“ Your statements are heirs to me,” she said,
and I must admit that I had never suspected
anything of the kind. As it is, I have onlv
'our word against that of my husband, whom I
i rive always believed to be a gentleman and a
man of honor. How am I to know that you are
telling; me the truth?”

“ You will believe what younhusband says,
I suppose, and of conrsmyou know his writing.
You may read this.”

Jim Hannafin handed the lady a letter which
she took from its 0 )CDle emwlope and read
carefully, her face pale and her voice lowered.
It was in these words:

“ MY DEAR 31:1: —

"I am SAX'K')‘ that I could not let you into this
Celilu snap as we had aim-i d to; but you failed to
cnnc to lime, and I had to tglzc in a man who was
villan to risk his mom-y with me. I am running a
great game I arc. in d thcru is money in it as leng as
the authorities let me alone. '

“ I can put you on a. good thin2._though. A hav-
sned delezation is to 'go frrm In inns, to a trade
convention at Memphis. leaving Evansville bv boat
on the 14m. Yru can pass y rsclf of! as a ncin-
nail business man and work hose suckers for all
, they are worth.

" Wishing you the best of luck, I am as. ever,
. “ Your friend. ,
“J. Honconn. ’

“ I suppose that you are also a, blcr,” sug-
gested the lady as she handed the otter bad: to

of visitor.
“ Yes, ma‘am. That’s the way I make my
livin . I haven‘t been in the business as long: as
a your usband has, and I don’t claim to be s11: 11
a double-edged sharp as he is; but I can hold
my Own.”
. “ Does it seem to you that you are doing the
right thing in coming here to expose your
2 friend and comrade where you know he would
most object to being cxpotaed?”
“ Of course it is right. He deserves that, and
more. Don’t his letter tell you how he went
back on me!”
“ He says it was your fault.”
“Helical Oh! he’s a success as a liar, as I
reckon you know b this time. He broke his
word, and went bar on me because he the ht
i he could make more money by taking in snot er
‘ man, and that‘s the sum and substance of it.

He cut me out of a good thing, and what could
i he expect me to do? Besides, Mrs. Holcomb,

l

 

 

 

 

l

 

 

qu—n‘

 

, A"

it was my duty to expose the fraud he has been
pin in .’

“ Your duty?” inquired the lady, as she ele-
vated her e ebrows. “ I should not sup se that
you would e much worried by consi erations
of duty. If you fanc that you have done me
a favor—though I don t if you fanc anything
of the kind— on are mistaken. Per aps it was
right that I s ould know what you have told me,
but I do not thank you for telhng it. The bear-
er of bad news is never welcome, and I Wish
you good-morning.” -

But, Mrs. Holcomb—”
Good-morning, sir. You need not trouble
yourself to call again.”

Jim Hannafin went away lookin as if he had
in some wa been cheated out o something,
and even be ore he had got out of the house the
lady sunk into a chair, a picture of anguish and
utter misery. »

She did not weep. but was fearftu pale, and

it
It

held her head withher handsas ifit was in dan-

ger of burstin .

After a whiFe she rose, her handsome features
hardened b a sad and determined expression,
and therea ter there was a bustle of cking
in the house, which lasted until a late our in
the afternoon, when Mrs. Holcomb went away
in a. carriage with her two children and their
nurse.

“ I have received news that com is me to go
into the country for a. few day ’ she said to
the other servant. “ I leave the ones in your
charge. If Mr. Holcomb should come home

.while I am gone, tell him that there is a letter

for him in my room.”
So she went away, and she never saw the in-
side of that pretty house again.

 

CHAPTER II.
PAYING HIM err.

Two days after Mrs. Holcomb had left her
home there came up the quiet and pleasant
street a young man, who stopped at the pretty
house as if he belonged there.

His appearance surely indicated that he be-
longed there, as his dress and manners were evi—
dently those of a. gentleman.

It was easy to- see that he was disappointed
when the door was opened by the servant. and
there was also something in her look that tron
bled him.

“ Are all well i” he asked, quickly.

“ All well, but nobody at home ,” was the
brief answer.

“Where is Mrs. Holcomb?”

“ She went away two days ago with the chil-
(11711 and the nurse.”

“That is strange. Anything the ma tor?”

“ She said she had, got some news that would
take her into the country for a few day, and

t id me to tell you that you would find a letter ,

in her room.”

“ Perhaps some of her people are sick.”

Josiah Holcomb hurried up-Stairs to his wife’s
room, Wondering what news it could Le that
had carried her off mto the country, as nothing
of the kind had ever ha ed before.

As soon as he stepge’ifigto the room he no-
ticed that several a cles which he had been
accustomed to Sec, Were missing; lint there was
nothing in that except an in ication that her
32y might possibly be protracted beyond a few

vs.

He easily found the letter, cs she had stuck it,
woman-fashion. between the glass and frame of
the minor, and he tore it open and startedto
read it hastily.

hHe piay hhave i
t erea ter 0 r t over ve ‘ rlowl using
here and there to take in its rl‘zull luring: an
as ho rcad his face became ash pale, and the,
hand that hill the letter trembled visibl .‘

This is the wording of the letter that moved
him so: i

"I am sorry to ray that I have found you out. I
know that you mm ’cd me under false pretense
and. that your entire life with me has been a iron
and a false pretense. That might be forgiven. if you
were not win: you are; but I know that you are a
gambler. that you have always been a amblcr, and
(let a! the money that has sup ycur fami
has been the wares of infamy. Eosuppose I we
have continued to live in a fool‘s , if I had
not learned this disgraceful truth; but I must have

crnod it scorer or latr r. know it now. and that
knowl ‘dge ends all bctwecn us. I cannot be the
wife ( f a gambler. and cannot sum 1' my children to
grow up as; the children of a gambler. My duty u
a Chas inn and a mother would allow no such sacs-1.
flee. As soon as I learnrd the shameful truth, there
was but one fling for me to do. and that l have
done. You will never see us-ngain, as I shun pm
more than distance between you and those whom
you have so foully deceived. Farewell,

your ways."

He stood while he read the letterso carcfu
and so slowly; but when the last wcrcls
sunk into his soul, the
he dr upon a chair.

Then '8 strong and manly frame shock with
emotion, and trars——real team's-streamed from
his eyes and wet the hands that-covered them. '

This lasted but a few momen and he rose
and carefully folded the letter, w e a. hard and

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lanced over it hastily; but‘

and may ’
God have mercy on you find show you the error of,

paper fell to the floor and I

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The Old River Sport.

 

set look came into his face, like that which his
wife’s features had \'-'(.l‘l] ill the room below.

“I had thought better of her than that,’ he
muttered, bitterly; “ but her head is too strong
for her heart, and she lets the head do the talk
and the work. She is too (good to be generous,
too righteous to be just. 5 a Christian and a
mother she can’t sacrifice herself, and so she
sacrifices me and the children. That strikes me
as being a queer sort of Christianity, to say
nothing of the other thing. “'ell, she means
what she says. She always did—except when
she said that she would stick to me through bet-
ter and worse. Thefirst thing now is to 11nd out
who has done this.”

He went down-stairs, pale and hard, but with-
out a tremble in his step or voice, and interview-
ed the servant.

“ Who was here, Mary, the day Mrs. Holcomb
went away?"

“ J ust one visitor sir. It was a gentleman, a
friend of yours. What’s his name, now?
ou ht to know it, as he’s been here often. Han-
na n. sir—that’s it."

Josiah Holcomb’s brows contracted, and such
a wicked look cama into his face as made Mary
shrink from him; but he spoke to her kindly and
mildl .

“ Ity may be some time, Mary, before Mrs. Hol-
comb gets back, and I am going away, too. I
will leave the house in (your char 0 for a while,
and will scnd you wor what to o.” '

He gave her some money and went away,
leaving her to wonder what had happened to
disturb that aceful family.

If she con (1 have seen Josiah Holcomb's face
as he went down the street, she would have been
terrible.

He had lost the look of the bright, cheerful
and gentlemanly man who had so gayly stepped
up to the door of the iretty suburban house, and
in its place was a dar expression of murderous
hate, such as would have caused a passer-by to
shudder and give him a wide berth.

“ So it was Jim Hannafin,” he muttered,
“ who did me this favor, who exploded that dy-
namite under my house. I ex cted some dirty
trick from him, but nothing h e as bad as that.
He has done his worst, but it is my turn
now. The last line of her letter was like
the last words of a judgc‘s scutcnce—‘ to be
hanged by the iicck until you are dead, and may
God have mercy on 'our soul 1’ This is as bad
as a hanging for me, ut I'll deserve the hanging
before I am swung off. The first t.:ing is to find
that sneaking scoundrel, and he ought to have
known better than to get me started on his trail.
I will find him where I want him, and that end
of the business will be settled.”

He did find him and there was no time lost in
the search and the discovery. ' .

The night of that very day two men met in a

ove on the Kentucky side of the river below

ovington.

One of the men was Josiah Holcomb, and the
other was the man who had exploded the dyna-
mite that destroyed his home.

To the latter the meeting was as unexpected
as it was unwelcome, as he was on his way to
the house of his wife, and Josiah Holcomb was
the last man whom he would have supposed he
might meet there.

By the former the meeting had been premedi-
tated and planned, happening exactly as be had
intended it should.

Jim Hannafin soon get over his shock of sur-

rise and consternation, and made a stron cf-
ort to smile as be advanced and held on his

hand.
offer of the hand was not noticed; but
Hannafiu was in no hurry to take ofi'ense.

“ You are the last man I would have thought
of meeting over hene,” said he. “ “That brought
you into this neck 0‘ woods .7"

“I came to find you,” coldly answered Ho]-
couili.

“ I am easy to find as a general thing. Did
you Want to see me about that game you are
running at Cairo?”

“ No—I came to play out the game that you
opened at my house two days ago." ‘

Jim Hannafin had known as soon as he saw
Holcoinb’s hard and determined look why his
former friend and partner had sought him, and
this stntciiiciit was not unexpected; but it dis-
concertcd him so that he could not meet the
steadv gaze of the other.

“~ Hope there's no harm done,” he muttered.

-"“Did your wife tell you that I had split on

you?“

“I have no wife. You have driven her from
me; and she is lost to me forever. It would
have n more merciful in you to shoot me
dead than to do that deed.”

This was indeed a serious matter and it may
be put down to the credit of Jim Hannafln that
he was shocked asvvell as startled when he be-

n to perceive the extent of the damage he had

one.
' “Is it so bad as that?" he feeny inquired.
“ It can’t be. You are only trying to give me
with your affairs.

But I meant no harm. thought I would

: . a rather too ractical ke on on, and
" gas same time dp 10 y

0 you a service. She was

  'miretoflndoutthe style of your business some

 

‘ time, you know, and it S‘coiirvl "o in." that I had
better break it to her gently and save you ironi 1

trouble hereafter.”

“ You lie, Jim Hannaflii. You had no thought
of pleasing her or helping me. You did that
thing out of pure spite and malice, to be reveng-
ed on me for leaving you out of that down-
river snap."

There could be no doubt that it was a serious
matter; but the controversy might not go be-

ond words, and in that stvle of warfare Jim
aniiafln considered himself a match for his an-
oni’st.

‘ If you take it in that way,” he observed
in as careless a tone as he could assume,
“and if you don’t care to listen to any of my
explanations, there is nothing more to be
said.”

“But there is somethin to be done,” sav-
agely rcs onded Holcom . “thy do you
suppose I ave sought you on this side of the
river, and have met you at this time and
place} Jim Hannafin, I have come here to kill
you.

Most decidedly it was a serious business a
scrape that there was no getting out of. In
size and strength the adversaries were nearly
equal] matched, though Hannafln was a little
the ta ler and heavier of the two; but of course
the difliculty was not to be settled with bare
knuckles. ‘

“If that is your aim,” said Hannafin, “ I
suppose you can murder me if you want to.
Of course you have come fixed, and I am un-
armed.”

“ I mean to give you a chance for your life,”
answered Holcomb, as he produced two revol-
vers, “ and I have here the tools for both. One
of us wiil not leave this round alive!”

“You mean a duel, hen. What sort of a
fight do you propose?”

“ Take this revolver. We will stand back to
back here. and each will step off ten paces, and
halt. I will, give the Word, and at the word
each will cock his pistol, and we will turn and
fire, advancing and firing as we please.”

“Very well,” said Hannnfln as he took the
revolver. “ I don’t want to tight you, and if
anything happens to you here, it will be what
you bring on yourself.”

“ I don t care for my life; but I mean to have
yours.”

It was a good night for such an encounter.
Though the trees were thick, the moon was
sliiiiin in an uncloudcd skv, giving plenty of
light, t at was rendered a little uncertain by
the capricious shadows.

The two men placed themselves back to back,
and began to step off the distance in the direc-
tion that Holcomb had pointed out. A

He must have known that the plan he had
pro osed, taking the antagonists out of Sight of
eac other and leaving each to act in a measure
inde ndently, would give a fine opportunity for
brea ing the terms of the combat and gaining
an advantage by treachery. '

Of course Hannafin knew this, too, and he
had an incentive to unfair dealing in his ad-
}:(Ersary’s statement that he meant to have his

I e.

Holcomb, however, had stipulated that no re—
volver should be cocked until the distance was
measured and the word given, and he was very
quick of hearing.

Half the paces had not been step 011' when
he caught 1: ie faint click of the 100 of Hanna-
fln’s pistol, and he knew what that meant.

He turned instantly.

There was his adversary facing him, and a
loud report was followed by the whiz of a bul-
let near his head. _

His own rcvclver spoke at once, and his aim
was so deadly that Jim Hannafin fell backward,
shot through the heart.

Holcomb stood near the body of his false
friend until he was sure that he was quite dead,
and then turned away, leaving there the revol-
ver that he had handed him.

“They may call it a Suicide or what they
please.” said e. “ It is nothing to me what they
call it as that account is settled. He was a
coward and a scoundrel tothe last, and the world
is well rid of him."

Before the week was ended the pretty sub-
urban house and all it contained had passed into
other bands, and the places that had known
Josiah Holcomb knew him no more.

CHAPTER III. ,
ON BOARD THE ROW'ENA.

THE flue passenger-steamer Rowena rounded
to on signal at a little landing on the Indiana
side of t e Ohio. be ow Evansville, and the cap-
tain was inclined be wrathy when he per-
ceived that the only outcome of the stoppage
was one passenger;

As the Rowena was one of the best boats that
plied between Louisville and New Orleans,
there was a good deal of st 19 about her. and it
was bad enough to have stop at such a beg-
garly landing. and worse yet to receive there
anly en’s passenger,lwho was an undoubted

 

ewasaGraybynameaswellashvnamre,

 

registering at the clerk‘s office as “ ' ‘11

Gray, Hoopville, Indiana,”and in appearance

I
Y
I

 

and manner he was decidedly a “ gray.” being
an elderly ii‘hii, or at least past middle age. his
dark hair tinged with gray, and With gia

streaks in his black mustache and bushy beans:

His clothing was of gin honics inn, cut in
rural style. or lack of sty e. and iitting him
loosely; his high collar, almost innocent oi starch,
lopped over at one side; his hat \\ as a soft felt
of no particular shape, and his boots were coarse
and roomy.

Yet he had a self-important air, such as
might indicate an independent po>iiion and the
possession of property, and this “as made more
plainly visible to all who saw him slap down a

ig, fat-looking wallet on the clerk‘s counter,
directing that it be placed in the safe to await
his order.

“ I reckon I kin take keer o’ myst If as well as
anyebody.” said he, “but when it’s. jcst as easy
ti; ,pn the safe side, I allus go tliar and stay
t ar.

Then be deposited his countriih d carpet-bag in
the state-room that had been assigned to him,
and sauntercd out into the cabin to 10ok about.

The Social Hall—the name given to the for-
ward part of the cabin adjacent to the clerk’s
office and the bar—was pretty “'0'” tilled with
drinkers and smokers and lonngers: but only
two of the card tables were 00 u pied, as it was
too early in the evening for any extensive
games.

There were men enough to play tlcni, men
who might drop into or be drawn into 1mm as
the night advanced, though stcanibcnt ias-
sengers were not then as ready to stake houses
and lands as they had been in former days, and
among them were several whom an experienced
observer might readily have recognized as pro-
fessional gamblers who traveled on the boats for
the pu . of getting hold of other 1 eoyle’s
money t rough the medium of so—calhd games
of chance.

At one of the tables that have been mentioned
were seated four men who Were playing “ i-e'sen
up,”withoutany money stakes: tie other was
occupied by two of the proi’Lssional gamblers
and a victim.

There could be no doubt that the third person
was a victim, as his appeaiance and the
pro .s of the game plainly 11 int. (1 him out to
any ody who was acquainted with such matters
as a pigeon in process of being pluckeil.

He seemed to be hardly out of his trenr, and
was a well-dressed, hiind~ omc, dark-haired
young man, whose face shov. Ld signs of early
dissipation.

The game was poker. of course. and rroney
was being freely staked by tho yrung man and
liberally absorbed by the others. who, while prev
tending to be opponents, were ically playing into
each other’s hands.

No doubt they were cheating: l at the eyes of
bystanders Were on the game. and their under-
linnd work was done so fliirly that it was a mat-
“'1‘ of inference rather than of went". ..

This condition of affairs was evident to ev .
body who took any interest in the game, wi h
the single exception of the victim, and he was
destroying his chances, if he might be supposed

to have anv chances, by too lrequcnt communid ,

cation wit the bar.

The luckers of the pigeon were in no wise be-
hind him in their willingness to drink—in fact,
they assisted and encourang him in putting the
enemy into his mouth —— but their seasoned
stomachs and cool heads \vcrc not Worried bv

what they drank, while he Lu'i‘me momentarily ,

hotter and more excited. 1 lay’ng wildly. and
betting with a headstrong and utterly unreason-
able recklessness. . .

Of course they would have won in any ev ,
but his excitement enablcd them to pluck him
more speedin and more thoroughly.

Benjamin Gray of Hoopville was whtching
this interesting and exaspera'tiiie game. but was
not watching t (losely, his nttt ntion being fre-
quently drawn off to other people and other
hanpenings in and about t: e cabin.

«specially was his kccn cud wary glance
turned toward the. after part of ihe cabin.
which was seen d to the lady pa ssengers, and in
that direction there was something worth look.
in at. I

young lady in that part of the boat not only
turned her face toward the Social Hall, but
occasionally left her sort and sauntered down
the cabin, walking and locking as if some trou-
ble was oppressing her.
. It was evident to B"!lfl:‘.ll‘-il! Gray. as it must’
have been to all who elem-veil her, that there
wasa stron family likeness between her and
the young Victim at the pi 2kcr game.

She had dark hair and eyes as be humans! '

her brunette face was hit hly attractive in tea»
tures and color and expression. and she was

handsomely dressed and appearcd to be a year ‘  

or so older than he.
Brother and sister. one would have thought,
and the inference would naturallv arise that the
sister was distressed by her brother‘s proceed-

ings at” the card-table. ' _
learly this was the ease, as after athile she
spoke to one of the colored servants. who, after
a. brief hesitation. carried her message to tb

your: man in theSocial Hall. \ a .

“ ins Taleott wants to speak to you. sat".

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ryere game.”

' ,- and I see that you have been drinkinghtoo.’

’ ' wereaplaying With r0

‘ unnot have had anything to do with that man,

, ' , What do you know about ‘11)?”
  mood I saw more of him than I wanted to,

4

The Old River Sport. ‘

 

 

 

 

An expression of intense annoyance came over
the young man’s face, and he threw down the
cards that ho was to deal.

He possessed one g( ml point, however—he was
not so far gone in an kind of dissipation as to
neglect his sister or oisregard her wishes.

hough he had been drinking heavily and
was deeply absorbed in the game, he rose from
his seat almost immediately, though a little un-
steadily.

“ I am sorry to leave you, gentlemen.” sail
he; “ but my sister wants me, and I must go to
her."

The man who sat opposite to him said noth-
Eg; but a sneer expressed what he might have i

d, and the sneer did not escape the notiCe of “
young ’l‘alcott.

“As I am a heavy loser,” he remarked, rather
hotly, “I have a right to quit the game if I
choose; but I will return soon, if you care to
keep the place 0 n for me.”

Surely they did care to, and a smile took the
place of a sneer on the face of his principal op-

cut.

“ I’ll play the hand while you’re gone, if you
as. so,’ observeed Benjamin Gray.

‘I am willing,” answered Talcott, “if these ;
gentlemen have no objection.” [

No objection was made, and the “gray”
slipped into the scat which the young gentle— i
man had vacated, while the latter went back to i
the ladies’ cabin. 

“Do you understand this ame, stranger?” i
in uired the ambler who fac
‘ Jest you at old Ben Gray alone for not tack-
lin’ anyt in’ he don’t understand. This yere‘s
pdzar, ain’t it? Well, I’Vo played a sight of it
up in Poscy county, though seven-11p is what
we mostly do stick to as a stidd ' game.”

“All right, Mr. Gray. Gla to know you.
This gentleman is Mark Hunnafln, of Cincin-
nati, and I am Silas Birch, of Louisville. The
Young fellow whose place you took is Gerald
Talcott, of Louisiana. Now you know each
other and all’s straight. It’s your deal, my
friend”

“ That suits me. You fellers is smart enough,
Iknow; but you‘ll have to git up ’arly in the .
mornin’ to beat your Uncle BenJamin at this

No empty boast was this, as the sequel speed-
ily showed.

Ben Gray, pickin up the pack, shuffled anrl
dealt the cards, an a decided change in the

e was manifest from the start.

The luck, or whatever it was, which had en-
lbled the professional gamblers to win the .
mono of their victim so easily, had entirely de-
serted'thom, and their utmost efforts could not
induce it to return.

In vain they brought into play various tricks
nndschemes that are supposed to be gouliar
to professional gamblers, as at every 5 they
were met and foiled by Ben Gray, ant more
than once the twinkle of his koen eyes warned
them that he had detected them in their attempts
at foul play.

There was nothing for them to do but submit ;
to the 1085 of their money or quit the game, and
the latter alternative was of course out of the
question as it involved a confession of defeat.

Gerald Talcott did not return to the card-
table immediately, or very soon, as his sister dc-
mined- him in an earnest conversation, though

against his will.

“ sent for you, Gerald.” said she, “ becauseI
wanted you to quit playing cards down there. I
know it was a gambling game that. you were in,

 

“ You are right about that, Eva, frankly
numeral the young man. “ I did not want to
quit when you sent for me, because it would
look like showing the white feather; but I ad-
mit that I have lost some money.”

“ How could you help losing money, when you

essional gamblers?”
i “ ow do you now that the were profes-
sional gamblers. my sharp little 3 s?”
“It. is easy to see that they are not gentle-
’

-“ I don’t know about that. It is hard to say
who is or is not a gentleman. One of them may
larva been a mbler by trade—the man who
you most of tfi money; but the other surely

for he lost as well as I did.”
“Do you mean Mr. Hannafini”
“Yes, Eva. How did on know his name?

‘ .“ He was on the boat when I came up to meet

are on this boat, and to be very careful how you
touch liquor, if you must touch it at all. Mother

‘ is very anxious about us both, and I promised

 

gh I was under the special care of the cap-
tain, and he showed me some attrntion that was
unwelcome, to an. the least of it.”
. “I must see a out that. Ho had better not
try it again.”
“ Do not trouble yourself, Gerald. If he had
really annoyed me. I would have complained

f inst him, and I think he will keep away
firm now.” '

“Perhaps he has come down on this boat for
the  of following you.”

“ ossibly; but it is more likely that he is
merely plying his trade. as I believe him to be a
river gambler. What I want you to do, Ger-
ald, dear, is to leave the cards alone while you

i
i

her that I would bringr you home in the best pos-
sible shape. You know. too, how much depends
on you. and I am going to rely on you to do
gust what I tell you to do, until We are safe at
iomc.

"' You may rely on me, sis. I would be noth-
ing less than a brute if I should go wrong when
I have you to look after. I will leave the cards
alone. and will keep away from the bar.”

After a little further conversation, Gerald

l Tulcott left his scat.

“ Where are you going now?” inquired his
sister.

“ Out yonder, but not to play or to drink. I
want to watch the two men who were playing
with me. and to see how they get on with the old
chap who took in place.”

“I trust you, raid.”

 

CHAPTER IV.
THE BITER BIT.
WHEN Gerald Talcott returned to the card-

‘ table, which he had lately left. the progress of
r the me had become so unsatisfactory to Bliss

Birc 1 and Mark Hannaiin, that they would
ladly have ended it if they could have found a
ecent excuse for doing so.

The return of Talcott seemed to afford a pre-

the new-comer. | text, and Birch hastened to take advantage of
i the opening.

“I am glad to see that your sister let you

| come back here," he said, With a sneer that was

scarcely suzpprcssed. “Are you ready to take
your place ”

" Not to night.” pleasantly answered the young
man. “My sister objects to my playing cards
for money.”

“That‘s what's the matter, hey? And of
course you mind her. IVliat a good boy you
are!”

“ One of the best kind of boys when I take a
notion to be good. and when I take. a notion
to be bad I am one of the worst. Remember
that as you go along.”

W’hethcr this statement was or was not iii-
tonded as a threat, it had the effect of quiet-
ing the gaml‘ilcr’s tongue and subduing his
sneer. ’

“ If you Tellers are tired of inc,” observed
Ben Gray, “ I’m ready to dropout, as I reckon
I’ve won asnnuch money as 'ou got out 0’
that young teller. But I‘d life to have jest
one more deal around, to give you satisfaction.”

It was agreed that there should be one more
deal around, and again a change was manifest
in the course of the game.

On Hannafin’s deal and Birch’s the old man
lost, and on his own deal, which was the last of
the round, the cards seemed to run agair st him.
to judge by Birch’s triumphant glance when he
had filled his hand, and by the despondcnt look
of the dealer.

Hannafln passcd out, but the old man hung
on, and the betting became brisk between him
and Birch.

When there was considerably more than
enough mone on the board to cover his rcccnt
losses, the ol man called, and his antagonist
laid down a. king full.

Ben Gray promptly r ndcd with an ace
full, and covered the es with his broad
band.

“ )rop that!” fiercely ordered Birch. “The
money is mine.”

“I don‘t seem to see it in that light, Mr.
Birch.”

“Look at it in this light thenl”cxclaimed
the gambler as he drew and levelled a revolver.
The money is mine because you havebccn cheutv
ing. I saw you palm that ace of clubs.”

‘I don't deny it," calmly answered the old
man, without removing is hand from‘ the
money. “But I had a right to do it. You
have been cheatin and trying to cheat all
through the game. had to tight you with your
own weapons.”

“Drop that, I say, or I will bore a hole
through our head!”

A but sine hand seized the gambler’s
collar, and Gerald alcott, who was standing
behind his chair bent down and whispered to

him.

“ Put up that pistol, or I will drive my knife
into your neck!’

This admonition was accom nied by a touch
of cold steel against the gain lcr’s skin, and it
was not the only thin that made him hesitate.

“ The old man is rig t,” said one of the seven-
up layers, who had quit their table and come
to t 0 other. “ l’ve been watching these deals,
and it’s just as he says. He has only beat you
at your own game, stranger. and everybody
will admit that he had a right to do that.”

This was clearly the. opinion of the majority,
as expressed by remarks to that effect and by a

‘a general murmur of assent, and Silas Birch sub-

mitted with an ill grace. '

As vou seem to be running this game, gentle-
men, will have to give. in; but it nothing
less than highway robbery for a man to carry
off that money on a clear swindle.”

‘5 :IA ' Ki
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Ben Gray, who had quiet]
stakes. did not seem to be in t e
cd by this statement.

Gerald Talcott went back to the ladies" cal in
and the old man after a little pause folloncd
him thither.

Silas Birch and Mark Hannafln walked out
on the forward guards, out of sight and hearing
of the others.

“Have you gone back on me, Mark?" grum-
bled the elder man. “ I never knew anybody
to throw off on me worse than you have done
to-night. You not only made me. do all the
playing, but when a pinch came you refused
to stand up to me, and acted as if I was an utter
strangerto you. Is that the wayto Lack up
your artner? What’s the matter with you 1‘"

“ on know well enough what the matter
is,” answered Hunnafin. “ You know that you
have been doing just what I wanted you not to
do. What sort of a chance do you suppose I
can have with Miss Talcott unless I get on the
right side of her brother?”

“ Oh, bother the irl!”

“' You are more ‘kely to bother me than to
bother her. She is the dau htcr of Colonel
Talcott, who died last year. caving a big pile
of property to his two children, and I thought
I had made some way with her when I came up
on the Memphis. I wanted to improve my op-
portunities on this boat, and might do so if you
would help me instead of hurting me.”

“ How have been hurting you?”

“I told you that Iwas going to pro se a
game to that brother of hers, so as to get letter
acquainted with him, and that it must be a
straight and gentlemanly me, with the
chances in his favor, as I coul afl‘t rd to lose a.
little money for the sake of getting on the right
side of him. Instead of that. you set in to skin
him. and on did skin him most outrageously."

“Well. ark. you see I know that a bird in
the hand is worth two in the bush."

“What has become of your bird in the
hand? It flew right into the pocket of that
‘ gray,’ and you lost. more than you had made."

“ Confoqu that old cuss! I 5 Mill never have
any respect for myself until I get even with him
in some way. He is a sharp from hharpville,
and I know that be was playing it fine on us all
through the game. If they train that sort up
in Pesey c0' nty, I want to go there to learn to
play cards.”

“ You had better let that old cuss alone. Silc,
and I hope that you will manage matters so as
not to interfere with my rameuny more. You
have given me such a sct- ack that I am at my
wits’ end now to know how to play it."

“ I believe, Mark, that the young fellow and
the old one were in cahoot.”

“That is not a bit likely.”

“ They \\ cut off together, or manly together,
and I am keen to bet that they wtnt to divide
spoil.” *

“ Nonsense! Can’t you think of anything
but that infernal game?”

“I think I can tell you how to play your
game.”

“ I” wish you would. What do you sug-

est?
g “ A better scheme than getting en the right
side of that young chap,aswell as an easier
one would be to get rid of him.”

“ on are roposing a crime to me, Sile.”

“Man things that are done might pass for
crimes; ut they areal] right when they pay.
Better think it over, Mark.”

Gerald Talcott had gone back to the ladies’
cabin, where he explained to his sister as much

pocketed _t be
cast aggriev-

as he chose to, of the termination of the card '

controversy at the other end of the boat, not
caring to particularize the part he had taken in
the aflair. .

Then, seeing Benjanun Gra
about, he went to meet him, an
down and had a little talk.

“ I wanted to Bk to ygé my friend,” said

saunterin
the two as

the old man. “ on chip in like a hero
when I had that little di culty at the poker
table, and I ought to thank you for that. I
don’tihink you needed to do it, though, as‘I
hain't no idea that the feller meant to shoot.
g.ng was only a bluff game that he was play-
ng.

“Perha s so,” answered Gerald: “but it
looked rat er scary, and I had a grudge against
that man. He had not only swmdled me. but
you heard how he snecrcd at mc_ for allowing
myself to be controlled by my Sister. 1 can’t
stand much of that sort of thing."

“ It’s easier to stand, thouch, \\ hcn yr u know
that you’re right, and such myonng lad" as
your sister is mighty apt to be right, Ym ‘Mh
Talcott, that man Birc had bu n clientng you
~mbbing you. as I may my.am1ui.m.~, 1 their
your place I thought I had a right to net qven
with him. I was playin’ your game. you know,
and I reckon I won your money back, and here
it is for you.” .

Ben Gray dived into his pockets and irrith
up a miscellaneous assortment of bills and
cums.

“ N03 no. Mr. Gray.” protested Gerald.
“ That is one thing that I can’t stand at all. I
could afford to lose what I lost, and what you
won is your own.”

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“ This is what I was workin’ for, though, and
you ought to have it.”

" You must let me take the will for the deed, .

Mr, Gray. I can’t touch the money, and that
settles it. Put it right back in your pocket.”

“ If I must, I must; but I don‘t keer for the I

money. and I was layin’ your game.”

" You were playing your ovm game, Mr. Gray,
and it was such a game as I could never begin to
play. I would not have believed it possxble for
you to get ahead of that erty: but you are a.
splendid poker-player an up to all the tmsts
and tricks of the game.”

" To tell you t

out of it for many years.” -
“One of those men, I suppose, was a profes-
sional card-player.”
“ Both of ’em, Mr. Talcott. .
Mark Hannaiin, wasn’t playin’ his

me—not quite strong enough, though. I am

sorrv that you worried that man Birch, as you 5
a I’m ;

gave him a good excuse for a grudge, and
afeard that he’s a dangerous man to feel
with.”

“It seems to me that he may have a bigger
grudge avainst you, Mr. Gray.”

“ Oh, t iat don‘t matter, and I reckon that I
am able to take kcer o’ myself.”

“ I think that I am able to take care of my-
self, too.”

“ I hope so, and I hope that you will look out .

for that man Birch, if not for both of them.”

At a landing made by the Rowena the next ‘

morning there came aboard a man with whom
Birch and Hannafln were well acquainted. and
it was for an ex .
he belonged to t e sporting fraternity. .

In the course of a conversation between this ;
man and his two friends they rdated  him the ;
‘ events of the previous evening, and Birch pomt-

ed out Ben Gray as the man who, as he said,
had robbed him of a lar e sum of mone .

" Of course you don‘t ,
he;h“but that‘s the old cuss I want to get even
wit .’

“ So you think I don’t know him,” replied the
other. “ I do, though, and it is surprising to
me that you two haven‘t dropped on him. In
what part of the backwoods have you been
living lately?”

“ What do you mean, Hank? \Vho is he?”

“ Gra 'ville Gordon is supposed to be his
name a
and he ives himself out as a returned Califor-
nian. e is said to be rich, too.”

" Is he a sport?’ inquired Birch.

“ Well, you ought to know something about
what he can do in that line; but he don’t pre-
tend to play cards for a living, and I supplose he
don’t need to. He travels a good deal, t ough,
and sometimes picks up such suhkers as you.’

“We couldn t help it, as we knew nothing
about the man. He came aboard at an Indiana
landing, and said that he was from Posey
county, and I am sure that he had the look and
style of a ‘ gray.’ ”

“That is one of his games. I hope you won’t
come across any more such ‘ grays ’ as he is."

CHAPTER V.
ma PENALTY or MEDDLING.

 

Tali: night following the experience of Gerald ;
Talcott and Ben Gra with the “ professionals ” ‘

was very hot, there ing no air stirring save
that made by the steamer as she plowed her
wa down the turbid Mississippi.

va Talcott, not fancying the solitude of 'her
state-room or the company of the cabin on such
ani ht, seated herself on one of the after guards,
wel out of the way of other Jaeople, and was
there enjoying the ht air an the moonlight.
when a light stepi ormed her of the presence
of an intruder.

Looking around, she rec ized Mark Hanna-
fln, who was approaching er quietly and with
his hat in his hand.

Tho h his presence there was objectionable

. to her. f not annoying, it was not worth while

to make any demonstration to drive him away
or to cause him to deem himself a person of
sufficient consequence to be avoidable. If she
should treat him coolly, he might be expected to

O 8W8 .
3 She did treat him coolly, but he failed to go

awn . .

Fdi-awhiletherewasnothingin hiswordsor
manner at which a reasonable could take
offense. and Eva listened wl out any a r-
ance of interest to his common lacere con-
cerning the warmth of the iii t and the pleas-
antness of that particular .

Then he led the converse , on—that is, his own
conversation—on to the events of the night be-

fore in the Social Hall.

“I was glad, Miss Talcott,” said he, “ that you

called our brother away from the card-table
last ni t, asth reason toknow that he
was g victimi there.”

“ By you?” uickl inquired

“By me? o, in I was also a victim. I
enjoy a social game now and then, but not well
enough to play with gamblers, and I soon dis-

covered that your brother and I had fallen in'
j'/ withaprofenionalplayerwho was fleecing us

e truth, my young friend, I _
used to be in the business, though I have been ,

The young man, -
ame vithj
you; but he came out stronger when l0 tackled 1

rienced traveler to decide that 1

now him. Han ,” said ;

ray Gordon, as he is generally known-'— -

badly. I did what I could to keep Mr. Talcott
out of his clutches, but was unable to save either
him or myself.”

“ I suppose I ought to thank you, sir. for your

a good intentions, though they seem to have been
quite ineffectual.”
' “ I meant well, however. and might have suc-
ceeded better if I could have got your brother to
quit the game. \Vhat I did and tried to do was
for your sake, Miss Talcott.”

“ or my sake, sir? I do not understand
you.”

“ If you will have a little patience, you will
soon be able to understand me. When I had
the pleasure of being a fellow-passenger with
Iyllou on the up tri of the Memphis, I could not

elp being strong y attracted toward you. Your
beauty—”

“ Please drop the subject, Mr. Hannafln. It
is an unwelcome one I assure you.” I
| “ Of course you have had so many compli-
l ments for your beauty, that it is no wonder if
you are tired of the subject. You must have
noticed the fact that I admired you, and my
admiration is such that I have been waiting and
watching for an ogportunity to declare—”

“That will do, r. Hannafln,” promptly in-
terposed the young lady as she rose from her
seat. “ I told you that the subject was an un-
welcome one, and I will hear no more. If on
should attempt to renew it, I will be oblig to
ap eal to the captain for protectiori.”

he passed him without a glance, and swiftly
3 returned to the cabin.
Mark Hannafln itted his teeth and frowned
? as he looked after er.
1 “I shall conquer that pride of yours yet, my
lady ” he muttered. “ If one way won’t work
I another will, and I shall keep trying until I
make you my wife.”

Shortly after Eva had returned to the cabin
she was joined by Gerald, who was nick to
notice that she was not as bright as usua .

, ' “ You seem to be out of sorts, dear.” said he.

“ Are you not well, or is the heat troublin you?
No, something has happened that worri you.
What is it, Eva?”

“ Nothing of any consequence.”

“ But it is of consequence, whatever it is that
; has fretted you. What is it?”

“ Your friend Hannafln has been annoying me
a little—that is all.”

“He is no friend of mine, Eva.”

“ He seemed to consider himself such, and
made that an excuse for speaking to me.”

“ What did he want? IVhat did he say .3"

“ I tell you that it was nothing of any con-

uence, and it is not like] to occur again.”
It shall not. I will see fl) that.”

“I beg, Gerald, that you will do nothing of
; the kind. It was only a slight and tempora
annoyance, I assure you, and I feel no unease
ness about it.”

“Very well; but I don’t want my sis to be
worried.”

Half an hour afterward Gerald Talcott met
Mark Hannafln forward of the cabin, and spoke
to him quietlfi'. : .

"I would ‘ke to saya few words to you in
private,” said he.

“ You are welcome to do so ” answered Han-
nafln, and followed Gerald down to the main
deck of the steamer. ‘

It must be understood that the western river
, steamers are wide] different from those of the
. East, the main or iler deck being almost en-
; tirel open at the sides, and the spaces that are
| not lled with freight being mostly occupied by
‘ piles of wood for fuel.

The Rowena not only carried considerable
fright above the bold. but was burning wood
in ly in that part of the river, and had just
taken on a fresh supply.

Consequently there were plenty of recesses on
the main deck where those who wished to be se-
cluded, especially at that late hour, would be
out of the sight and hearing of every person but
a ca passer-by.

The two young men stepped to the side of the
boat, where they were sheltered in one direction
by a wood-pile, and in another by a. mass of
boxes of freight. ‘

There were no deck-hands about, and the only
sounds to be heard besides their own voices, were
the regular working of the engine. the heavy
pantinglof the exhaust pipes and the churning
Of the ‘ wheels.

Geral Talcott hastened to open the subject on
which he wished to speak.

“I understand, Mr. Hannafln, that you have
been annoying my sister.” ‘

“ finnoylng her? Has she complained of more
you '

“ Of course she has not com lained. She
hitsim’entioned the matter, and it I who com-

a n.

“ Indeed! Very well, if Em want to complain,
go on with your complain g.”

If it was a question of annoyance, there could
be nothing more annoyi to Mark Hannafln
than the haughty and over ring tone of vmhn‘ig
Talcott. Angered b the severe snubbing he
received from Eva, he gambler was in no mood
tobetakentotaskb herbrother.

Gerald, also, was ncliued to resent the con—
temptuous manner in which his statement of the

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cause of offense was treated by the other, and
his hot blood boiled up quickly.

“My com laint,” said he, “amounts to a.
warning, an it will be well for you to take itas
it is meant. I want you to keep away from my
sister hereafter. If you annoy her again while
shelis, under my protection, it will be at your

-r1 .

Hannafin’s wrath was risin rapidly: but he

kept it well under control, dou tless thinking it
better to aggravate the other than to display his
own temper.
“ Look here, my fresh young friend,” he mild-
ly observed, “if I annoy your sister, it is for
her to say so. As this is a free country. I have
a. right to admire her, and until she objects to
my admiration I can’t see that it is any of
your business. She may not be of age yet; but
she is surely able to speak for herself.”

“ Do you mean to say that she—” began
Gerald.

“ Don’t let your journals get heated,” broke in
the other “ or the engine may have to be stopped
to cool own. I mean to say that if she is
annoyed, you are the main cause of her an-
noyance, and that is what we were talking
about to-night. I was thanking her for having
called you away from that poker game, as it
was clear that you were being robbed by thnt
man who was p aying against ou.”

“ And what were you doing. ’ hotly demanded

Gerald.

“As I told your sister, I was doin what I
could to keep you from being fleec ; but the
effort was beyond my ability, and I was glad
that you were called awag'.”

It aggravated the yout intensely tobetreated
as a green boy by this young man, and his tem-
per was getting be ond his control.

“ And so that is t e wa you tried to work your-
self into her favor. If s 9 had known the truth.
she would have thanked you for nothing. I shall
tell her that it was you who roped me into that
game, and that the man who cheated me was
your partner.”

It seemed from this remark that Gerald had
not yet made a statement of that seit to his sis-
ter, and it would be well that he should not be
permitted to make it.

Clearly the advice that Silas Birch had offered
was sound. If Mark Hannafin was to gain Eva
Talcott it would be necessary to ut a stop to
the meddling of her brother, and there was but
one way to stop it effectually. Such a stoppage
might also be expected to double her value as an
heiress.

The hour, the place and all the circumstances
conspired to incline Mark Hannafln to adopt his
partner’s suggestion: but it would still be well to
observe the proprieties of life and compel his an—
tagonist to become the aggressor. -

‘ Do you know what you would tell her if you
should say that?” quietl asked the gambler.

“ I know that I woul tell her the truth, and
I would go further and say to her that under no
circumstances ought she to have anything to do
with a professional gambler, such as you are.”

“ It seems to me,” sneered Hannafin, “ that
such a statement would come with ill grace from
the son of a rofessional gambler.”

Gerald Ta cott boiled ever at this.

“ If you mean to insinuate—” he blurted out.

“ I don’t mean to insinuate anything. I am
simply stating a fact. Do you fancy that I don’t
know your ori in?”

“ You are a iar!”

As Gerald Talcott spoke the deadly word, he
reached for his pistol pockety but his antagonist
was too quick for him.

This was the opportunity for which Mark Hun- .'

nafln had been waiting. and he held an inside
position, while Gerald was just» at the ed 0! A
the guard where it was almost level wit the
water.

A quick and powerful blow did the work. and ,

the youth. with a faint c , fell backward and
was swallowed up by the ississippi.

As the big steamer swiftly sped away fromtho
spot where Talcott sunk, there was an almost
noiseless plunge in the water, from 9. int on
theguard a little back of the place w m the
two antagonists had stood. 3

Mark Hannafln, who had not noticed that lit- _

tlo occurrence, stepped back quickly sauntercd
around amen the nilesof wood an masses of
freight, and nally brought up at the hollow,
where he had a little chat with the car on
duty, his manner showing no trace of excite—

ment that might beexpected to follow therecent ,

tra cal event.

‘ am watchin
the engineer.
who owns the
hwxiihmirskfigi" i ired Ha (in trying to

' o n u' nna.
take an interest in {he subject. ’

my steam gauge,” remurhd .-
patent was here just now to our

“His name is Gordon—Grayville Gordon. I ' ‘

galligve’,’and he is a very sharp sort of an on
W.

Then Hannafln did take a lively interesttin tho
subject, tho h he did his best to conceal it.
' “IthinkI ow the mummy! be. “How

since he was here?”
 ‘ erhaps ten or fifteen minutes”

“ Which way did he go when he left you!"

“ Up to thereabin, I suppose.” _

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. face of BenGra .

i‘ Iippi ma 0 that a rather di , t task, though

’loft, and

, u Though they were going downward with the

6

The Old River Sport.

 

 

It was natural that Mark Hannafin should be

i
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worried, in new of the possibility that Gray 

Gordon lll:;;l.b h'u'e witnessed the eIJCounter be-
tween him nml (fwmld Talcott.

Yet, i:' h.‘ ind thncsscd it, was it to be sup- ‘

posed the; in; would have gone away without
inning an alarm or making any signl

Hum: {in wnndcrt-d about the boiler deck,
I'n’tiir‘; in . l usury space that could hold a man,

but: saw u .ifiiin; of the Gray (‘rordon who was 1.. 1

kn iwn 0:1 Hm ilowenu us livll (iruy.

 
 

lb :1 + "n 2' :l I,” the cabin, where Ben Gray was
not v:.--:l . :m l in the course of a few mquirirs

con :ergnru' {,u- ry hH roiled todiscovcruuy person
who but wow him lat-1y.

only way to help you then was to jump in after
you ant here I am.”

“ R[on were more than kind to risk your life
to save me.”

“ There was precious little risk in it as far as
lam concerned and since I have learan that

i you can swim a little, and that you have sense

Beior : m.- I" tirezl to his stair-room Mark Han— .

mil!) 1.4.11.1" mine-l the bur liberally, hastily drink-
ing glass utter glws of whisky.

 

CHAPTER VI.
II; THE SWIFT RIVER.
As the en :ineer had informed Ilunnnfin, the

man who e-rzylnd himself Ben (tray, but who was ‘
usually kno .vn as Gray Gordon, had come down I
to the bodemieck to inspect the working of the 1
new strum-gauge, and had conversed for u whilt1 

with tho nun who could tell him the most about

When he turned to go back to the hurricane-
dcck, no cuught sight of Hannafin and Talcott
as they Were. coming from the forward part of
the b mt, and almost involuntarily he stepped
behind u. pile of freight to conceal himself.

There was nothing out of the way or unusual
in the but that two young passengers should
come down there at that hour, possibly to enjoy
the cool air from of! the water; buttoGray

Gordon toe conjunction of those two at that?

time and place was peculiar, to say the least of
it. and he determine to watch them and ascer-
tain why they were there.

' \Vhen they went over to the guards, evidently
will: too view of bein out of sight, be shifted
his pin-e, getting wwre he could see all of
“.3131? was done, and bear most of what was
8' .

An encounter was what he looked forward to .
as th: 0'1Tcome of this: quarrelsome talk; but
Balm iiln’e blow and its; rer'ult was quite unex-

tcl to him and completely upset his calcu-

tIons.

 

As the evil hal been done before he could in-
borposi to revont it, there was but one remedy
e changed h's intentions with the
quickness of thought.

' As Talcott disappeared in the turbid current

i 'of tin Mississippi, Gray Gordon plunged into
‘ the water, aiming for the spot where the youth

hall sunk. ,
Gerald had been surprised rather than stunned ‘
by lb a sudden blow, and soon came panting and
Sputterin to the surface. 4.
‘ A} he id so he was surprised again by the 
hail of a friendly voice near by.
Tnourh he recognized the voice, it was not ,
that of '3 recent antagonist, and his surprise
was increased when he saw above the water the 7

“ Can you swiib?” inquired the old man.

“ A little.”

" That is better than not at all. Are you
hurt?"

“ I don’t think I am, though I am dazed and
rather weak.”

“ rum a whale at swimming, fortunately for
both of us. Just put your hand on my shoulder
and rest awhile. Don’t try to exert yourself.
Ther 3 is no need of any sort of hurry, and noth-
11 to be gained by extra. efforts.”

' rald promptly did as he was told to do, and
Was able to recover himself and look about.

They were far from the hope of rescue by the
steamer, eve-n if their disappearance had been
known on board.

cumnt prett rapidly. the Rowena. had the aid
of her power ul engines and big wheels, and was
already out o reach of the loudest hail.

It would be necessary to reach the shore by
Iqimmin . and the swift swee of the Missis-

the water was warm.

The heat of the weather gave ibem another
advantage, as they were both dressed in thin
clothing, which was comparatively a. slight in-
cumbrance.

An other advantage was found in the fact that

when they went overboard the steamer was
con'idcrabl I nearer to the right bunk of the
river then ) the left—that is to say, nearer to
the Missouri shore. .
r The bright moonlight showed them the
Rowena rapidly receding in the distance, the
dark outlines of the two shores. and the turbid,
rushing water that intervened between them
and the nearest land.

“ Haw did you get overhead. Mr. Gray?” in-
quired Gerald, who had not got ever the R1115.
prise which the sight 0! his companim had
caused‘hlm.’

“ I went overboard because you did.”

 

“ To save me?”

“ Well. I suppose I must have had some such
a. project in mv hear]. i saw that fellow knock
you of! the boat,'nnd it occurred to me that the

enough to do just what I tell you to do, it seems i

to tire that neither of us is in any real dan-
f\l "
J “I could never swim to the shore, Mr.
Grn 7.”

“ have no doubt that you will be able to
get there with a. little, help from me. As we
don’t care where we land, we won’t make any

struggle against the current, but Will let it cur- ‘
ry us down as it pleases, while We strike across l
You see how well .

it in a slow and easy style.
we are getting on new, and all we have to do is
to take our time.

it you may try a few stro es occasionally; but
there is no use in getting tired, as we can rest
whenever we choose.”

Gerald wondered at the man who had not 1193- ,

itutcd to jump overboard to save a chance ac-

quaintance, and who had actually periled his 1

life in so doing, however lightly he might re-
gard the risk.

That action was not all there was to wonder
at.
In his speech and his manner the man showed
none of the uncouthness and countrificd style
that had been manifest in Benjamin Gray of

the Rowena, and in every rcSpect he appeared .

to be not only a clear-headed and sharp-witted

man of the world, but possessed of that tcndrr 'I
care and consideration for the needs and fccl~ ‘

ings of others which marksgthe real gentle-

man.

Gerald had little chance to indulge in these
reflections or to Wonder at the man, as the start
for Sili‘l‘e was begun, and all his powers ware
brought into play.

At the first he chose to strike out for him-
self, but 3001] grew weary, and laid his hand, as
a matter of course, on the shoulder of his
friend.

The old man was without doubt, as he had dc-
clared himseef to be, a. whale for swmimin r. and

be easily managed the incumbrance of Gerald, '

aiming steadily toward the shore, and gradual-
ly approachin , it without any special exertion,
regardless of t e swift current that carried him
downward.

Something more than half the distance had
been passed when they step d to rest, and then,
us they were swept down t e stream, Ben Gray
made a discow ry that interested him.

“Seems to me that I see something down in
the bend yendcr that looks like a store bout. Do
you see it, Gerald? I must call you Gerald for
short, you know.”

“ Then': you; I am rind tlr‘t you do. Yes,
rir', I think I see something in the shape of a
iluthoa: there.”

“ That is” what we must strike out for. It
will he better to come 1'. ross rzunohuman beings
than to land in the mums and be compelled to
scratch out at runiem.”

At once the start-ed main, and aimed f or the
supposed flat 1;, Gerald strikingr out for him-
self at first, and resting on. the. shoulder of his
friend when he became tired.

By following implicitly the directions that had
been iven him, he impeded Grey‘s movements

but a ightl ,and made the task of swimming .

easy enoug for both of them.

The old mun put in some of his best work un— 1

til they had got hair) into the bend, where the
current was slower t n 'in the outer river, and
then he eased off, allowing Gerald to swim for
himself.

As the youth had by this time recovered his
strength and gained a little valuable experience,
he did very well, and in fact needed no further
assistance. -

They reached the bend a little above the ob-
ject at which they had aimed, and could then
easily perceive that it was a small flatboat,
probabl a utoreboat.

No lig ts were visible on it, but of course there
must be people on board, and the rest and re-
freshment it promised Would come in good time
to the two castnwn s. .

After striking t comparatively still water
they easily swam down to the boat, which 5y
against the bank at the lower part of the be ,
out of the way of the force of the current.

It had the appearance of an elongated box,
with a space of a few feet at each end that was
not boxed in, a slightly curved roof, 3 Ion
steering-oar. and two swee on swivels tha
wgg Operated from the rec . v

u Gray was the first to clumber upon the
un-stream end of the craft, and he assisted his

young friend, who had become quite exhausted i

y his swimming.

As no person was in night the old man ve
n loud,hail. which was s ily answered ya.
hail from within, follow by the noise of some
body moving about,

A light was struck inside, the door was short»
1y opened. and, a rough-leaking middle-nged
man, with a half—dressed young man behind
him, both armed, appeared at the opening.

\

 

You can keep your hand on .
my shoulder while I swun and if you feel like ‘

“Who the deuce are you?” rudely demanded
the man.
[ “Two poor devils," answered Gray. “ who
i have been lost overboard, and have sworn
ashore.”

“.lcrmvsha.’ “311. you look it.
lmppen to git overboard!"

“The plain truth is that my young: frind
here got in a fight and was knoekod into the
water, and I jumped in to keep him compnnv.”

“ That’s quccl' doin‘s. What (1’ you want
here?”

“\Ve heppcncd to land here, and we wont
lodging for the rest of the night and brcaklcst
in the morning.”

“ Able to pay for ‘t E”

“ Oh, yes, " quickly answered Gcrnld.

, “ We mnylrnvc :1 itile money in <~ur pockets.”
remarked the old mun—“enough to pay ior

what we went here, I reckon.”

. “ Cune inside. thcn.”

i The custawuys bmvcd their heads as they en-
tered the low (ltoruay, and passed into the

gintcricr of the flail-cut. which. es tl.cy bud

Fupposcd, was fitted up for trading in a small

: wav.

It was a rarrow and low apartment in which

‘ they found ihcms-clvcs. «copying less than half

of the flut‘oont, and purtiticnt (1 off l‘rom the re-

mainder, which prt bubly contained the kitchen

and sleeping arrangements.

By the dim light of a smell oil lamp. tltey per-
ceived that the grcntcr part of one side of the
room was takcn up bf" 11 shabby and dine y bar
with n scanty array (if bar fixtures, and that the
rest of the space, was largely occupied by liar-
rels, lzeos, jugs and demijclms. ‘

It was difficult to decide why an establish-
ment in that ostensible business should be lo-
cated even temporarily in that apparently
uninhabited region, and the most Iausibl'r- sup-
po-‘ition was that there might lie an illicit
distillery near by, from which supplies were
being drawn.

On a nearer view of the occupants of the flat-
l‘oat, the custawnvs saw that one was a man
. somewhat older than lien Cray, but large and
robust, and that the other was a tall and strap-

ping oung fellow. ugly to look at, but of pow-
erful rame. .

Before they had taken the seats that were
‘ pointed out to them, another was added to the
group—n scrawny, angular and big-listed \vo-
man, who was probably the mother of one of
the men and the wife of the other, and who had
taken time to arrange her scanty toilet before
she came out. .

“ W ho are you, strangers?” inquired the old
man. “ Th£I yarn you told was a queer one, and
' I want your names.”

“ My name is Gray Gordon.” answered the

How‘d yr 1‘.

individual who was mainly addressed. “ and my .L

. youn friend is Gerald Talcott. The yarn was
straig t enough, and I don’t think it necessary
to say any more.” \

The man suddenly straightened himself up,
and the woman’s dark face was lighted by a.
transient lrtok of intelligence.

"All right,” rcspcnded the former, “ I am
Isra’l Gender, and this '11 young Isra’l, and-that
is mv wife, J one Ann. I reckon you'll be “'antin’
to turn in. and thcr‘s a pile o’ blankets, and
thar’s the floor. El’ you want any whisky, and

. kin aiford to pay for 15—” .

“Thank you,” interrupted Gordon, “but we
don’t drink.”

“ That’s queer ag’in.
flni sh out our sleep.”

When the three had filed out of the ronm and
i gone to sleep, Gerald Talcott, who was \vea
. and sleepy, was inclincd to lie right down in his
wet clothing and seek repose; but his compan-
ion was more wakeful as well as more suspici-
ous.

He stepped silently to the door that had just
been closed, and listened to the mumbling of an
indistinct conversation that came through the
thin partition.

After a. while he stepped back softly, and
 himself at the side of his drowsy young

men .

“You will have to keep as wide awake an
. you can. Gerald,” he whispered. “ I am afraid
, that we have got into a tight place. I don’t
1 like the look of things here, and am inclined

to believe that our friends in yonder want to

. rob us.” -

, “I have precious little about me.” answered
Gerald. “ and they are, welcome to that.”

“But on m remember that you can't get

1 home tbout mono . For on part. I have
several hundred d srs of we money in my

‘, pockets and they won’t be thccme to a dollar

1 of it. it is lucky that we are at this end of

Then we’ll go back and

1 the boat, and can step out and go ashore if _

l we want to.’

Gordon stole to the door, tried it, and step-

. ped back to his friend.

l “ It’s no use ” be whispered. “The door is
fastened. That shows that they mean business,
and whatvltind of business they mean.”

Gerald was then instantly wide an aim and
appreciative of the situation.

“We can easily burst open that door," he
suegcsted. . \
“Yes, and then we would be sure to have a

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The Old River Sport.

7

 

row on our hands. We had better go slow,
keep cool, and wait to see what they really
mean to do. We could easily take care of our-
selves it we were arme-l; but the loads in my
pistol have of course been spoiled by the water.
Do you happen to have your knife about you
—tlm bowie that you showed to Birch at the
curl tabla-f”

“ ‘iV-s. '11 it is all right.”

“i (1.»:1‘5 seem to ‘feel afraid of those folks,
Geval i. if it turns out that they do want to
I'U') us, watch me, and keep your wits awake,
and you will know what to do.7

'l‘hev Were not kept long in suspense, as the
rear door was shortly opened, and in filed Israel
Gonder, followed by his son and his wife.

CHAPTER VII.
THE noonnn ROWENAS.

ON board the Rowena. Gerald Talcott was not
missed until the day follmving his disappear-
anzre.

He was not visible at breakfast, and his sister
was evidently troubled by his absence, though
it was easy to suppose that he had overslept
himself.

After breakfast she sent to his state-room, and
the discovery was made that it had not been oc-
cu )ied during the night.

ere was Indeed cause for apprehension, and
Eva was thoroughly alarmed. making her alarm
known in such a manner that the passengers
and crew were thrown into a great state of
excitement.

The steamer was searched throughout and
every person who could be supposed to ow
anything about the missing man was closely
questioned; but no information concerning' Lini
could be elicited.

He had simply disappeared, suddenly, mysteri-
ously and utterly.

It was certain that ho had drank no liquor
since he left the card table, and it was therefore
impossible that he should have fallen overboard
in astute of inebriation, as was hinted by some.

The supposition which naturally occurred to
Eva Talcott connected Mark Hannafin with her
brother’s disap rance, as she feared that Ger-
alrl, in spite o  expressed desire, had taken
her anuoyer to task, and that an altercation had
ensued.

But there was Mark Hannafin, with no visible
Weight of murder on his mind, and as eager and
anxious in the search as anybody.

As the inquiry pm there came to light
another mysterious circumstance, which was
easily connected with the disappearance of Ger-
ald Talcott.

The passenger from Indiana who had regis-
tered as Benjamin Gray was also missing.

It was Mark Hannafin, with the aid of Silas
Birch, who quietly difi‘uscd the insinuation that
the two disappearance-5 were dependent on each
other or connected with each other, and that
impre sion soon became general: but why had
the two passengers disappeared, and what had
become, cf them?

The Rowena had made but one landing during
the night, and that was at a woodyard a little
before day; but no passenger had been sciu to
go ashore, though it was possible that both the
missing men might have done so without being
noticed.

Yet Gerald Talco t‘s baggage was still on
board, and Ben Gray’s ca )etbag was in his
stateroom, and the wallet w ich ho had deposit-
ed in the safe was examined by too clerk and
found to be full of money.

The Indiana man’s propegly was taken care
of, and the conclusion arriv at was that both
the disappearance: must have been involuntary.

The only supposition remaining was that there
had been, from some unknown cause, a collision
between the two men, which had resulted in
both of them  overboard and consequent-
ly drowning. '

Mark Hannafin threw a little darkness upon
the case, rather than light, by questioning the
character of the Indiana man. who had regis.
tered as Benjamin Gray, when his real name
was Grayville Gordon, and this statement was
confirmed by Mark’s friend, Hank Byers, and
subsequently by one of the engineers. _ .

Though the not furnished a suspicious cir-
cumstance, it did not really advance the investi-

 

ution.

g Eva Talcott, who was a. young lady of consid-
erable force of character, and who had her own
ideas of the mystery, though they were some-
what confused tried to get at the root of the
matter b boldly quest oning Hannafln, asking
him if be ad seen and spoken with her brother
sauce she left him on the aftergnard of the
boat. outside of the ladies’ cabin. '

Nothing could have been more frank and open
than the young man’s answer.

“ I am glad that ,you have spoken tome about
that. Miss Talcott, said he, “as it gives me an
opportunityto explain to you what I have al-
ready explained to others. I did see your bro-
ther after the time you mention, and we had a.
few words together; but they were friendly
at once to what be pro-
posed. You may be sure of that. and at the
some time may guess the nature of his proposal,
homthofactthatIhavenotspokento you to-

, day, though you may ”judge that I have been 

very anxious to do so.

“ Was that the last you saw of my brother?"
inquired Eva.

“ The last I saw of him, and the last I heard
of him. After that I had a little talk with the
engineer, who told me that the Indiana man,
whom he knew by the name of Gordon. had
been there talking to him about the steam
gauge. It is my impression that your brother
was in that part of the boat about the time Gor-
don was there.”

“ I saw you go below with young Talcott last
night,” observed a passenger who stood near. -

“ N o doubt you did.
the little talk that I spoke of, and it was there
that I parted from him. “'hat of that .4”

“ I only know that you went below with him,
and that you came back alone.”

“ What are you trying to get at?" fiercely de-
manded Ilannalin. “ You had better be c reful
what you say. Do you mean to hint that I had
anything to do with the disappearance of the
young gentleman? Perhaps you had better go
on and say that l tumbled him and the Indiana
man into the river.”

The discussion threatened to develop into a

draw. when the startling cry of fl re came up
from below.

An alarm of fire on a Mississi pi steamboat
usually means destruction, and sudden and com-
piete destruction at that.

The inflammable nature of the freight on the
boiler deck, the tinderbox construction of the
upper works, and the accessibility to every
breeze that blows of the entire construction and
its contents, leave little chance for saving prop-
erty or life after the fire has got a start.

It is no Wonder, therefore, that the utmost
consternation prevailed on the Rowena, and
th it the panic-stricken passengers increased the
confusion that was inseparable from the alarm.

T he captain and other officers kept their
heads in spite of the danger and tie clamor,
proved their Willingnes to sacrifice themselves
for those in their charge, and (lid all that it was
possible to do in the emergency.

As soon as the fire was discovered efforts were
made to extinguish it: but they Were utterly un-
availing, and it was speedily made evident that
the Rowena was doomed.

The only chance to save life was to run the
boat ashore, and she was at once tended in that

engineer to run her for all she was worth.

The pilot—a hero, as all his tribe have been
since steamboats began to be built—stuck to his
post to the last moment, and the engineer did
not think of leaving his engines until the flames
had taken possession of them; but a brisk south
wind fanned the fire until the Rowena blazed
up like a pile of shavin c, dense clouds of smoke
hanging and drifting 3. ve the scene like a. pull
upon her cofliu.

All these heroic efforts were useless or nearly

so.

Before she could reach the shore the doomed
steamer struck a hidden bar and grounded
there, at a considerable distance from the land
which her despairing passengers had hoped to
reach.

The shock of the grounding toppled over the
big smokestacks, and sent them crashing through
the upper Works, adding to the confusion and
greatly increasing the volume of flame. .

The fire that had started near the bow of the
boat, and had already consumed the forward
part of the cabin, SWept rapidly backward, dc-
vouring everything in its way, and presenting
a wall of flame to those who Wished to look to
ward the shore.

As the stern of the Rowena was in compara-
tively deep water, the passengers who had re-
treated thither before the fire could only drop
03 or plunge into the stream as the beat drove
ghem, hoping to reach the shore or strike the

ar.

The pillar of smoke and flame that rose above
the burning boat attracted the attention of an
upward-bound steamer, which endangered her
own-existence in her strenuous endeavor to pile
on steam and reach the scene in time to save
life; but before she could get there many had
been destro ed by the fire and the water.

Most of t e cabin passengers had descended to
the lower deck, where than who remained on
board were huddled together, as far as possible
from the fire, endeavoring to devise means of

escape.
Eva Talcott had stationed herself on the upgr
near the ladies’ cabin ust where she (1
her interview with Mark annafln. and there
she remained motionless, awaiting the fate
which up red to be inevitable.

There 9 was sought and found by the young
lgambler, who hastened to her with two life.-
preservers.

“Ihave been looking everywhere for you.
Miss Talcott,” said he."and am glad that I
have found you at last. You have notime to
lose if you want to save your life.”

“ You are very kind. r. Hannafln.” she an-
swered; “ but you had better try to save your

 

own life, unit will be as much as you can do.
do not care what becomes of mine.” 

: about me.

It was then that We had ,

“ Why do you say that, Miss Talcott?”

“ M y brother has been lost, and I do not care
to live."

“ Jint there are
ought to live. whether you wish to or not.
is vour mother."

10 had struck the right chord. aLd she
yielded.

" You are rigt, Mr. Hannafin. and I have
been very wicked, standing here and n.8k'ng no
cll‘ni't. lint you should not trcnble _"( am it
If you can save your (mil me. it
Lick at that

Death is as

others left for vliom you
There

will be as much as you can do.
struggling throng in the water.
certain there as here.

“But I believe that I can save you. Miss
Talco‘it, if you will trust yourself to me. I
have brought a lii'e—w'eserVer for yen. and I

5 have a friend waiting for me below here, waiti

Controversy, and Eva Talcott was about to with— .

' lady when she goes over.

direction, the pilot at the wheel signaling to the .

 

to help you. “'0 are both strong men and g
swiimucrs, and we know what to do and how to
do it.” .

Without waiting for any further remon—
s‘ rances the young man fastened a lii'e-preServer
Upon her, and attached another to himself.

“ Now you must step over to the other side of
the boat,” said he, "as there are fewer people
there, and We will have a better chance.”

She allowed him to lead her through the cabin
to the other guard, where he leaned over the
rail and hailed his friend below.

“Are you there. Birch?”

“ Yes. but you must be quick, as it is getting
infcrnull y hot down here.”

“ All right. Stand by to jump in after the
lNow, Miss Talcott,
you must get u ) on the rail and jump bravely.
My friend will ook out for you below, and I
will follow you instantly.”

She hesitated, and he pointed to the cabin,
which was already full ‘of smoke.

“ The fire is just rushing at us, Miss Talcott.
give minutes more, and it will be death to stand

ere.”

The smoke was becoming suffocating and
the heat unbearable, and the water was surely
better than the fire.

She permitted him to lift her up on the rail,
and with a bold, free jum , she went over.

Hardly had she touch the water when Silas
Birch leaped in, and the' next moment Mark
Hannafln came after her.

b As she came to the surface both men seized
cr.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
A TOUGH HOTEL.

TEE light was still burning in the part (f the
flatboat occupied by Gordon and Gerald when
the Gender tribe came in, and it was evident
that they were armed.

As the were thus ready for business. there
could no onger be anv doubt as to the kind of

.business they intend(

Gray Gordon looked up, and the surprised ex-
pression of his countenance was mingled with
utter innocence. -

Israel Gonder was armed with a revolver. his
son carried a shotgun, and his wife held behind
her something that was probably a weapon.

“ What’s u .7” mildly inquired Gordon. “ Are
you afraid o robbers?”

“ Not unlem you’re that sort,” gruflly answer-
ed the old man.

Do we look like it? \Ve wculd not be
likely to swim ashore from a steamboat to go
into the thieving business."

“ I don’t know what you’d be likely to do: but
I know that you didn’t bring no gage to this
hotel, and that I want m pay in a vance.”

That‘s all right, thong you might have said
so sooner; but I don‘t see why you need come
with s and clubs to collect what We had in-
tend to pay in the morning.”

“ I want it now, you see.”

“ How much do you want?” ,

“ Just the pile that you’ve got about you. We

happen to know that you are rich, you two, and I .

wetigeed money right
0

“ It don’t amount to much, I can tell you: but
you Will be welcome to what there is of it. ‘It
will be pretty rough on us, though, to turn us
out in this neck of woods without a dollar,
and‘far from our homes. Can‘t you leave us a.
little?”

“ I’ll see about that when I know what the
 is. Shell out, now, and be quick about

Gray Gordon rose slowly, and thrust a hand
into one of his trowsers pockets.

“ I will have to be careful how I {etch it out.”\ '
he said, as he walked toward the old flatboat-
man. “ What I haVe is mostly in paper and
the water has at it in a bad fix. Have allttle
patience, and will give it to you in as good a
shape as pomible.”

By this time he had reached the old man, who‘
was holding out an eager and itching palm for
the money.

Elem it is,” said Gordon, as he drew out his

ha .

Suddenly he drew it backwani'and launched
out a powerful blow with his clinched fist, strik~
ing Israel Gonder on the jaw, and knocking hm
over against his son. '

d, so we want all you’ve

 

 

 

 

   
 

8 .

 

.—

 

l

b

l but to an extent imitating the ll:0\'ulll('!lt;4 of his l cott, but Holcomb. I supposed you knew
3 friend. l that.”

- He got up rs Gordon did. but, instead If I Gerald did know that, to his sorrow. He had
, thrusting: his hand into his pocket, 1r.- ..lippcd it I hoped that the unpleasant fact might have pass-
{. behind his hip where his more was. ed into oblivion: but this was the second time.
i When Gordon knocked ‘lU‘Vll oid Ini‘ncl, (‘ror- i he Iiad'bcen reminded of it within twenty-four
- nld sprung upon young: Israv. with his knife, 1 hours—first by the man who had sought to slay
i not using the lulu-lo, but the halt, "with “'l'lll h he 1 him, and then by the man who had unquestion-
-’ struck his tail antagonist such a sudden and u‘oly saved his life. ‘
?' savage. blow as stretchle h:::i senseless on the At the moment he almost wished that his
5 floor. savior had let him alone, and that thought kept
6 It was the :5urpri o and unexpectcdncss with him silent for awhile as they folk)ch the forest
t. which the trvo castawayn had got their Work in trail together. '

3 that told the story and turned the tables in .lieir 1 But reflection soon convinced him that such a

~ anOI' so quickly, and thcfact that young-,- Israel i feeling was unworthy of him. How could he ,
i was embarrassed in his movements bv his l'atli- { be angry with a man whose friendship wasso ;
y cr’s fall against him had greatly aided Gerald in \ sincere and had been so fully proved by his cen- f
', his attack. (loot? l
-j i The old flatboatman, who was. not stunned by “ So you were acquainted with my father?" ,

he blow he had received, speedily began to pick

himself up, but his 1‘0V()l\'0r was then in tivr—

i don’s possession, and the sharp click of its loci:

" intimidated not only him. but his wife, who was

~' brandishing the hatchet she had held behind her

i; with the intent of making an attack upon (ii-r-
,.
E

“You will have to take a back seat, my
friends.” quietly observed Gordon. “W'o are
running this ame now. and you are counted

 , out. I think. rs. Gender, that you had better
i v look after your son. though I don't sup )osc that
'1 ~ he is badly hurt. Your style of keeping a ho
? ' A tel, I am sorry to say. does not suit us at all,
if and we will have to leave you: but we must take
 , i the tools that you try to collect your bi‘ls with.
‘; v Gerald, ick up that shotgun.”

. \‘ Geral possessed himself of the weapon, wliilo
j , Israel Gender and his wife stood there scowling,
p j, , not daring to move, and in no humor for talk-

,\ , mg.

  , “ As we are not in the habit of taking,r
 ' Something for nothing,” continued Gor-

don, "I will leave you my revolver in place of
, this one. A fair exchange is no robbery, Mr.
" Gender, and my pistol is a better article than
, yours, thou rh it is a little under the weather
‘ just now. T ie shot un we will pay cash for, and
how much do you t iink it might be Worth? Sn
ten dollarsl. hat is a big price for it. but I will
put it at that figure, if you have no objection.”
No objection was offered, and Gordon fished
out of his wet pocket a ten-dollar gold-piece,
which he laid on the bar counter. '
" Now we are square, Mr. Gonder,” said he,
with the odds in your favor, and I will thank
you to open tliodoor and bow us out. Of course
you are sorry to the us go, but you need not add
to on grief by saying so. If you expect to go
on keeping hotel here, my friend, I would aid-
vise you to change your style, as y( u might run
adross some people who would kick against it
worse than we did. Farewell, then, and may
We never look upon your like again.”

‘ s

We.

.I.~. ‘1

.ng '2“ “I  “an ,¥_:..."~<,‘ - .
7  . ,A . . H i.

,4 Israel Gender ltad opened tho door, and Her-
g. aid and his friends backed out, for fear of ac-
3.4; cidents, and step ,ed ashore.

{3: As they backoi cut the perceived that young,r

Israel had vitality enoug to stir and get up on
his knees.

, They climbed the bank without any delay,
and walked away into the woods, glad t t they
had so easily got out of what had threatened to
be a bad scra e, and carrying the Weapons
which they h- taken, rather to not them out
of-the hands of tho flatboatmcn, than because
they supposed they might need them.

As Gordon turned and looked back across the.
river, be perceived si . of coming day in the
eastern sky, and, as t io moon had not yet sot,

, it was apparent that they need not have any

A fear about finding their way.

i, In fact, there was a trail which led from the
\bank directly toward the west, which they
naturally stepped into and followed. ~

“ We are well out of that little difllculty,’/ ob-

served Gerald.

“ Yes, a little better than I had expected at
one time, and I am glad that you take it so
pleasantly. Glad, too, that you were so wide
awake not when your wits were wanted. ’11?

on ha not seconded me as you did, we would

we been worse off. But I am afraid, my boy,
that you are tired out and can’t stand much
more fatigue and worry. ”

“What, I? As I am young and stron , I
, . surely ought to be able to stand this kin of
, 2 thing, and I may say that I am just getting
' ‘ warmed up to it. It is for you, who am much

«' older than I. that I am unoas , when I think of
what you haw-i gone through or my sake. You
have risked your life, and have got yourself in-
to all this trouble, for a more chance ac unint-
ance. If it had not been for you. I won (1 not
be living now, and. how can I ever thank you?”

“ It is not worth while to try, Gerald. As a
matter of fact. it was not entirel for your own
‘ cake that I tried to help you, at partly for
your father’s sake.” '

“ Formy father‘s sake?”

“Yes, I knew him when I was consideratly
youn er than I now am."

“ on knew Colonel Talcott?”

“ I never had the pleasure cf meeting that
gentleman.” ‘

“ Of whom are you speaking, then i”

I ’ i /

     
    

. I.

W‘E‘“Z3:"‘"i"" . .1,

5“," ' r "1 -'- 'W ,.
‘ i .

' ’ \ A;
_, , .

 

 

l - - v "1-H

The Old River sport.

 

 

,, ‘ . ‘
Gerald Talcott had been not on y watching, 1' “Of your intbor, wuoso name was not Tal-

hc said,‘ after a while.

“ I know him years ago," answered Gordon,
“ when 1 Was playing cards on the river here.”

“ lie was :1 gambler?”

-“ At that time he was in tho pasteboard busi-
ness. just as I was. Quite a decent fellow, too,
in spite of that, and generally resptwtt ll.”

“ I suppose. you know that lie is dead.” ,

“Years ago, as I have heard. “'cll Gerald, j
there are plenty of worse people then Jesfiih .‘
Holcomb under the sod, and we Will let himi
rest.”

"You are very kind, Mr. Gordon, and you
have done so much for me that I ought not to
question anything you have done or may do;
but there i.; one matter about which I am a lit- 1
t o curious.”

“Question away, my boy, and question as
much as you please. I (l'lfl’t pretend to heal-
ways right in what I do: Lut you may be sure -
that I mean Well by you.”

“I would like to know, then, why you, ii your
name is Grayvillo Gordon, I‘l‘fflx‘cl‘ll‘d r.:i toard ‘
of the Rowena and pasded yourself «.11? there as I
Benjamin Gray.”

“ t is a fair question, and one that is (115-: ' to 
answer. That is (-110 of my little games. It
aniuscs lili‘, and I think there is no harm in it. A
I am still fond of a lively game of poker. and of ‘
course I prefer to play to win. Therefore I!
don’t impOi’fo myself «:n the suckers, as; the )l‘()-
fessional gamblers call their victims, but let the r
lambs alone and pay attention to the wolves.
My only chance to get hold of them in the right
way is to pass myself oif as a sucker and let
them play me for all I am Worth. When they
think they have got the hook in m ' gills it do-
lights me toupset them and run oi with their
ilshin tackle, as I did with the two fellows who
were eecing you.”

“ Do you often worry them in that way?” in-
quired (-‘rerald,

“ Very seldom: but when tho freak seizes rue
I have to give way to it. If they can but 1310,
they are welcome to do it; but their success
Would never do to brag on.”

Daylight li'zd appeared, and soon the, sun
rose: and the travolers had no difficulty in
making their way through the forest, especially
as the path they Were following was a plain and
on  one.

It was srmewhat strange, however, that they
came acress no other road or trail. and failed to
see any farm-house or cultivated land or even a
clearing.

“ I don’t understand this,” observed Gordon.
“ It is of course an uninhabited tract that we
have struck here, and it may be many miles in
extent; but there ought tobe some sort of a
road leading up and down the river, which this
trail should cross. A river road is what I should
have calculath on as a sure thing.”

“ It is bottom-land that we are crossing now,"
suggested Gerald, “and I suppose it is Overflow-
cd when the river is up. Perha s the river road,
if there is one, keeps to the bin 5.”

“Well, we will know more about it pretty
soon, as there are the bluffs.”

The bluffs which became visible through an
ogning in the trees a pcared to be but moder-
a elevations of tho and, except at one pomt
where they assumed a hilly and broken char-
acter.

Toward that point the trail which they were
following tended, and there was as yet no
clearing or other evidence of human habitation
in that region.

“Confound such a count as this is, any-
how!” grumbled Gordon. “ suppose we will
have to tram until we tire ourselves out before
we strike a ease or any ople. No, Ger 2
there’s a whiff of smoke 'ng from the bin
yonder. Do you see it?"

Gerald did see it. and perceived that it seemed
to come from a rift in the bluff toward which
the trail pointed. It was but a thin and light
curl of smoke, but with a homelike and hospita-
ble look, strongly suggestive of the breakfast
which the two wayfarers wanted so badly.

Spurred up by this cheering signal; they has-
tened on at their best speed, and soon entered
the break in the bluff to which the trail led
them, and' from which the smoke was yet
rising.

9

 

It was deep, narrow and heavily timbered.
gradually tending ‘upward from the bottom-

 

 

land. and with no road or .ath leading into it
but that by which the trave ers had come.

When they had got apparently about half-way
up the bluff, the passage begun to widen, aiiii
IEQY could see the smoke more plainly bel’cxe
t em.

"I think it can’t be long now,” remarked
Gordon as they halted fer an instant, " before
we see Sl'lllL‘Ih ng or somebody.”

Asif' in answer to his words there ((12110 a
sharp and sudden bail in in right ahead.

“ Hello tliarl Stop wliar you are!”

Gerald 'l‘alcott, who was carrying: the shot-
gun, involuntarily raised it at this menacing
salute; but another hail advised him to drop
it, and he did so. __ .

CHAPTER IX.
AMONG THE MOONSHINERS.
v THOUGH than had been two hails. and though
it was easy to judge. pretty closely the locality

:from which they had ]_"re(.(‘0(.le(l, the entire

affair was pervaded by an element of unpleas-
ant uncertainty. ,
As they had been ordered to stop where they

‘ were, and as it was reasonable to suppose that

the order had backing to enforce it, it would be
as dangerous for the travelers to retreat as to
advance. .

. Having come so far, they were in no humor
for retreating, and the uncertainty did not suit
either Gray Gordon or his friend; so the former
made. a move to break it.

“ Hello. yourself!” he shouted. “ \Vhat's up
here? “he are you. and what do you want?”

" Jest you wait right tltarl” responded the
voice ahead, “ and you’ll find out arter a bit. If
you try to stir, you‘ll githurt.”

lien followed a shrill whistle, answered from
1" urther up the ravine.

" Wait thzir till we ccnie to you!” ori‘ered the
voice agraiii.

“ I can guess what this means.” whispered
Gordon to his young friend. " “70 have struck

l a secret still, and one. of the 10( kouts has halted

us. I am afraid that this nzcans more trouble
for us, and I wish we had not crmc here.”

There was no use in wishing, as they were
there, and the only reasonable thing to do was
to stay there and await the issue of the event.

Gray Gordon set the example of rziticnce and
coolness by depositing himself on the trunk of a
fallen tree, and the uncertainty wrs rresmitly
broken by the approach of three men who came
down the path.

One of thmi was quite. a young man, another
was considerably older. and the third was an
clderly person, to judge by his grizzled hair and
white beard.

All were rough in their dress and general ap-
pmrance, and all were armed with repeating
rifles and revolvers. _

Gray Gordon, without rising frrm his seat
cm the log, lmked up and addressed them in a
pew-cable and conciliatory manner.

“I hope you will tell inc, my friends, what

is the meaning of this. If there is near go-
im on anywhere, or if there is any sort of a
military'canip about here, we were ignorant of

it, and we want to be counted out of other -

folks’s fusses. We are strangers in this latitude,
and we were looking for a place to rest and get
something to eat whcn We were halted here.”

The old man, who had been looking closely
and sharply at the travelers, addrrssed himself
to his companion who was next to him in age.

“ I reckon, Sam, that you have made a mis-
take about tliese men. There don’t semi to be
anything the matter with them.”

“Didn’t say thvt thar was aiiythin’ the matter
with 'om, Colonel Rapn. Orders was to kee a

sharp lookout and halt everybody. and unit’s '

what I did.”

“ That was right. of course, and there’s no
harm done. But these gentlemen are strai lit
enough, I should say. They ‘t look asif t ey
had anything to do with Uncle Sam's revenue
service.”

“You are quite right there. sir.” responded
Gordon. " W e are connected with nobcdy but
oursolves. and are n‘ainly given to minding no-
body’s business but our own.” -

" So I mimiosc, and you wouldn‘t want . to
worry any poor per 930‘ who are trying to make
an honest living; in a {mall way.” I

“ Not we, intend. Thom is nothln the mat-
trr with us, except that we are in b luck just
now. and need trod and rrst.”

“ Come on up to our-den, then, and we will do
what We can for you.”

The old man who had been addressc. d as Colo.
ncl Rnpp led the way, and his two followers
brought up the rear, with Gordon and Talcott
in the middle of the party

This arrangement. ind eating that two strang-
ers were under guard, made the little procession
look more like a capture than a friendly visit:
but it was not Worth while to object to it on
that ground. as Colonel Rapp and his men up.
prawn to be well disposed. and especially any
objection could only have taken the form of a
flcht‘nzainst odds.

Gordon was willing to admit. however, that, -

he did not exactly like the look of things.
“ I think,” he whispered to Gerald, 7‘ that we
have struck the still from which our friends of

3, I -..;.,}:,.’-.‘;§._

Haw”..- .- . o....~....,.w-w._;..—. -..

I!“

g...«..m~¢- n-z-mmw. “war...

-m-.‘~—...-..,

11,; _

 

 

 

 

 

-..-‘~-M. “mar. ,...i .

'.W.‘ 1.: v, ‘3‘ v 1“- ;J  “(I "1'.' ' - r
-\ we“, fly .2 . ,3,  a . ' La,

, The, Old RiyermSport. 9

Gordon rather grufily. as if these questions were ' cause the moonshiners to believe in their hon—-
animying him. " l couldnlt see him drown be- f csty and thus secure a realization of their hopes.
l’ore my eyes, and I suppose it was a suddi ll im- 5 There was no getting over the fact that cir-
iiulse that cansed me to jump in and help him. i cunistanccs were against them, so their case was

 

 

 

the flat-boat draw their supplies, and I wish we
had not come here.“
' Even ihi~~ bit of a whisper attracted the at-

tention ol' the leader, who turned on them at
once.

"Anything
manded.

“ Nothing: at all," answered Gordon.

“ What are you whispering about. then?"

“I was suggestingr to my young friend here,
that we are probably on our way to a still-
house.”

“ It is easy enough to guess that.

the matter?” he shanin de-

But you

There was nothing particular in that."

“ Something to him, perhaps.
nothing to me, and I don’t pretend to sa y that it
I is any of my business.

shore out here? It is quite a tramp.”
l “ That is where we struck a little trouble, col-
onel. “'0 were treated very inhospitably at a
flatboat where we landed and asked 101' accom-

 

Uf course it is i

After you got clearot‘.
the water, though, how did you get from thcl

1 already prejudged.

In view of Colonel Rapp’s acquaintance with
the Gonder family—whether he believed in the
honesty of those “ poor 1 eople” or in t—ile
story which the castaways had told him was
exactly the thing,r that would not secure his syn»
paihy in their {a voi'.

It was clear that he (ilelK‘lka‘d that story. and
was prepared to believe anything" that the Gon-

i
‘ want to speak out what you’ve got to say. I , inodations. That proved to be too tough a hotel ders might allege to their dist rcoit.
don‘t like whispering.” ‘ for us.” Thus they perceived—or Gordcn did, at least

.- y

-_..._.._..__. .-,. e-...w___........_.,~‘v.~.

“Then I will speak right out and say that nci-
ther of us would object to a drink of the pure
stuff this morniiirr.”

' After Colonel itapp’s warnng there was no

more whispering, and within a few minutes the I
party reached the headquarters of the moon— f

     

quite a respectable force to guard the pix mi: es,
and all seemed to be willing, and able to defend
what they called their rights.

The guests of the moonshiners—or the cap- j

l The interest of Colonel Rapp in the. subject

f seemed to increase suddenly, as he leaned for-

l ward with an eager look.

3 “ Indeed l" he exclaimed. “Where was that?

Tell me all about it.”
Gordon was of the opinion that he had stepped

shotgun that you brought 7 here as belongingr to
Israel Gender, and \\ anted to know the. facts of
the case, so that I might Judge how you had come
bv it."

—that the best they could say “(.uld only give

their case a worse look, and they took refuge in'

silence.

From this condition they were relicved—-if it
could he called relief, and it at lt’flct braced up
the two captives~by the arrival of the two
Genders, lather and scn, and the only wonder

lo.

The evidence of their looks was iinmtdiately
confirmed by their speech.

“ Yes. Colonel Rapp.” put in the (liter Israel,

,m

 shiners. , into hot water; but it was necessary to wade ', 3
 The were not at all formidable in appear- 1 through, and he told the, story of the difficulty was that the old woman had not 001116 with f
.’ ance, nor were they in any way interesting ex- ! with the Gender family plainly and fully, of them. ,,
u cept to those who bad business there, bci -: :iere- ‘ course making his story tell as plainly as possi- When they came into the whim. their faces 
 1y two low and shabby cabins; the Hula!“ r of 3' ble against the flatboat men. wore such a malignant look oi expectant tri- ’t
‘l which was the abode of the still, and the larger j “I thought that something of the kind wasthe umph, that it was clear that they had teen 
'. the lodging-house ot' the Workers. ? matter,” said Colonel Rapp when this narrative thoroughly posted as to what had been told ,.

Two more men were visible up here. making was concluded. “ I recognized, you see, the there, and as to what they might safely say and “ i,

l
\‘; / lives, as the caso might lie—were invited into 5 There was no doubt, then, that the moons-hin- “ thein's the rascals that robbed us. and it‘s
3; 3 ' the larger cabin, where they were informed that l crs were friends of the flatbeat mun, if not con- lucky you caught ’em and sent us word, go‘s we
3 they would soon have as good a breakfast as; l fedcrntcs, andthisfact gave theaiiairadarlflook could git back our prop'ty.” . /
i could be provided for them—an assurance that l for the castaways; but they were not yet dis- " What did we rob you of 2” nidigiiantly dc-
: Would have been more satisfactory if they had posed to despair. maiided Gordon. , ‘ 
 not at the same time been disarmed. “ Well. yr>ii"\'e got the {acts plain and straight,” “ Part of it was a shotgun and a pistol, as
i “ 1 will take. care of these guns of yours,” ob- suggestcd Gordon. Colonel Rapp knows.”
i served Colonel Rapp as be deprived them of “So you say. I’ve got your side of the case, “We left a pistol in place of that which we j‘i
 ' their weapons. “ Of course you won‘t need them anyhow, but must bear the other before I can took. and left money to pay ior the shotgun.” '1’;
. While you are here, as you have us to defend decide how the matter stands. You say that “That‘s one of the yarn: that nobody is likely 
you.” the Gondcr family tried to rob you of your pro- to believe. ’Twas had (nough to rob us, without 
 H As there was no gainsaying this statement. perty; out it i: certain that you have got some lyin’ about it.” 
c, .' and no use in objecting to it, the Visitors trial of their property in your imsseSsion—«how much " IVhy, you inform: scoundrel, you came upon
a. r to make the best of it, and Gray Gordon did not more I can’t say." us when you thought we were asleep, and dc-

».w '34::

an.

"l‘u.

 

 

    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

“ That is easy to tell,” answered Gordon, who
continued to act as the spokesman of the visit-' take down. It seems to me, my friends, that yelled old Israel. “ Why, Colonel Rapp. it"sva
ors. "' My name is Gray Gordon, and my young the boot is on the other foot.” wonder that their: licllions let us escape with our
‘ friend is named Gerald Talcotti” “ Do you mean to char 0 us with being rob- lives. My son thar was knocked down by ’cm
i , ‘ ,“ I have surely heard the name of Gray Gor- hers?" indignantly denian ed Gerald. and loft fur dead, and it seemed like .we'd never
&, don, and it seems to me that I must have secn “ That is what it looks like, young man, and bring him to a r’in.”
3;" year face before now, though I can’t befrin to it ain’t worth while for you to kick against the Young Israe confirmed this statement most
2,. ,, a place it. But that’s no Wonder, as I amelly facts. It looks as if you have been robbing emphatically.
g ‘ , mixed about names as well as faces, and would those poor people at the river, and I only hope ‘ Maw WOUM 113’ ('OmO 819133,” he add-eds “ t0
'3‘ 4 not even be willing to bet that my name is real— you hain’t murdered them.” sw’ar ag‘inst the rascals; but she was skecred
4', ly mine. Queer, ain’t it? I have seen some “ This is too much!” ejaculated Gerald. nigh in death. and was used up SO bad that she
., 19 who claimed to be related to me, but I “Yes, it would be too much, and I hope you Wasn‘t fit to stir.”
,. con dn‘t place them.” haven’t done it. I should think that you might. The castaways were so overcome by these as-
i . “Perhaps they were lying,” suggested Gor- have got up a yarn that people would be more1 founding; and unblushing falsehoods that they
‘ don. likelytobelieve; but you have told a crooked could say no more, and it would have been»
v “Maybe so, and maybe not. 'I can’t tell. I story and it has got to be straightened out useless for them to try to do so. as it was evi-
1’ was killed once, you see, and that accounts for some ow. Those folks at the river seem to be dent that the case had been already decided-r
i._ my getting things twisted.” . poor but honest people, and it Would be a great against them.
, “ ‘Only once?” was on the tip of Gordon’s pity if they have-come. to harm. I have sent to “How much money did they take from you, 
" tongue; but he could easily [111685 that any fllp- them and they Will be here before long, if they Mr. Gender?” inquired Colonel Rapp. ~ '
7' pancy on the subject would be regarded by the are alive.” “ W ell, I dunno. I reckon they must ha’ tech
1 F old man as a deadly insult, and he did not speak all thar was on the boat; but we’ve been so wor-
.£ , his thought. CHAPTER X. ried and tore up that we. bain’t been able to look
l ‘ 1’? “ That is a. great pity,” said he, as he assumed and see. Anyhow, they said they didn’t have a
I as solemn an expression as the situation would 0 LE A N E D 0 U T - ,dollar when they came aboard, and it stands to
.1: . allow. , ‘ THE position of affairs was far from encour- reason that if they’ve gotanythin’now it belongs ‘
- ‘ “Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t. You can’t aging to Gray Gordon and his young friend, to us.” '
'_.- always be sure that you know good luck from who found themselves in a predicament from “ You infernal old liar!” burst out Gordon.
, 5 bad. Anyhow, it has nothing to do with the which there seemed to be no way of extrication, “ Stop that!" ordered Colonel Rapp. “ It .is
’.  business. Go on and tell me where you came and the result of which promised to be consider- enough to have robbed these poor people, and I
i  from and how you got here.” ablv worse than disagreeable. can’t allow you to abuse them.”
  “That’s- a queer piece of business, too. col- The last statement made by Colonel Rapp, “ Do you mean to say that you believe that we
3 . 0110i,” answered Gorsion W110 Was particular in added to the conclusion at which he had pre- am a ir of robbers?" V ‘ -‘ 1 .
 ‘ving his host the title by which he had heard viously arrived, assured the captives that they “ W hat else can I believe? I know these peo.  
2 Elm addrrssml. I could expect nothing less thanto be handed over plc, and havo found them honest and well-mean- ‘ 
l, ~ 1 “ Not too queer for me to believe, I hope.” to the tender mercies of the defeated and dis- mg. I know nothin 'about you, except that you L 
 . “ I hope it is not. and I hope you Will believe gusted flatboatmen. have told me a rim of stuff that is altogether -
-. 2.? me when I any that I mean togive it to you The smooth and plausible manner of the old incredible. They have told me a straight and
‘,,  ‘ straight. But I must admit that I would have mootishiner appeared to them then to have been reasonable story, which on‘l confirms what I
My » -' my (100st 0f the yam if I Shoum hear anybody intended to deceive, and it was evident that he had reviously suspected. cs, I believe that L-
i ". i ' else tell it. The truth is, Colonel Bapp, that we had been leading; them into a trap which be you ave robbed them, and they have a n'ghtto ‘
‘ ,l . swam ashore from a steamboat.” meant to'spring on them, get I‘m-k their property.” ix '
p;  - “ It is pretty tough, for a fact,” observed the But there was no help for it: they were in the This was the decision of a court from which 
' x; .  moonshiner. ‘f What made you do such a trick trap, and it was useless to wriggle or squirm; so there was no appeal, and there was nothing for *
 I8 that? Did You have to l” they continued to face the trouble boldly. the castaways to do but submit. ,
- “Well it] so. Yes, I ma say that we “The facts are exactly as I have stated them. The flatboaimen manifested an eager desire 
had to. y friend Talcott 0t ate a difficulty Colonel Rapp,” said Gordon, “ and if you should to take upon themselves the immediate execution '
.with a man there. Who took im unawares and disbelieve us. I can only say that we are in of the sentence, but Colonel Rapp halted them,r- ,. ,
knocked him Overboard. Seeing no other way worse luck than we had thought for. But that and deputed one of the moonShhierstOSearcliito - -‘ .
to save him, as the boat was running down‘ is no reason why we should starve, and I am prisoners. ’

fail to thank the old man for his kindness.

“ Now, gentlemen,” said the latter as 110 seat
ed himself near them, “ I want to know who you
are, and where you came from, and how you got
here.”

stream very fast, I 'umped in after him and
helpedhim to swim a ore.”

‘ That was kind of you, Mr. Gordon, to say
the least out, and it was a gbod job to make the
trip to shore. Not every man can buck against
that river and live. You must be fond of the
young man. What 15 he to you?” '

“He is ahuman being,” answered Gordon a

little evasivcly.

- .“I

,“ ‘Vell. yes. he  look as if he might be
something in that line; but we don’t jump into
the Mississippi for every human being we meet.
What else is e .to you?” i
think I can call him My trlend,” replied

‘ I

 

 
 

1 “IVe paid forwhat we took,” declared Gor-
( on.

“ That is the toughest part of the story, every
bit of which is hard to swallow. To believe that
you bought a man’s gun, either after or before
he used it in trying to rob you. is too much to

 

?r€,’colonel, that you promised us some break-~
as .
“ So I did, and” you must have it right away.”
The promised breakfast happened to be ready,
and was brought‘in immediately. It happened,
also, to be a very good breakfast, stewed squir-
rels being a dish that was well calculated to
tempt the appetites of bun men, and Gordon
\dnd Talcott ate so heartily t iat they almost lor-
- got their troubles in the comfort caused by the
l palatable food. ‘
' Yet it must be admitted that although their

 

 

improved bodilyrconditiou inspired them with
hope, they found it impossible so to act,” to
- I . ,‘ ‘ l) v

i_

 

mauded our money or our lives.”

The appearance of virtuous indignation as-
sumed by the two flatboatmcn at. this juncture
was not well put on, Lut its intent was evident
enough.

“ Is that the sort 0’ yarn you’ve been tellin’l’”

Gray Gordon,had sought an opportunityztw  I:

conceal his valuables, butbad not found one; as
the strangers had been closely watched. s

The search of Gerald Talcott did not pull out.

very extensively; but in one of G ordon’s

was found a lar eroll of hills, which minded . 
the money he ha raked in at the poker gamemt . ,1

the Rowena.

As the money was still wet, he sought to  "

a point of that.faet.

“Jth look at those; bills, cglonel,” be, me, 
quested. “You seetha they must have been"-
ed out yet. It 35:“-
been in my  ‘

very wet, as they have not dr
clear that they must have

/

 

    

 

 

 

. vm—v--<p- ..
r

The _Ql‘l_RiVe¥‘§P9rt° v '

 

 

 

when I swam ashore, and therefore I could not i Considerably to their surprise, they came out

have. taken them from that fiathont."

“ There might be something in that if you had
swam ashore,” answered the old moonshiner-
“but I see no reason to believe that you (ll(
anything of the kind. It was easy enough to
wet the money so as to back up your yarn. Mr.
Gonder, is that. your property?”

“ Of course it is.” promptly replied the elder
Israel. “M son here kin sw‘ar to it. and so
could the od woman, if she was able to git
here."

“ You had better take care of it, then.”

Israel Gonder pounced u on the plunder like
a duck on a J une-bug, and ost no time in taking
care of it; and thus the case was settled. the
victims perceiving the uselesmess of protests.

“ Do you want anything more!” grumpily de-
manded Gordon. “ As you have stripped us,
perhaps you will now turn us loose.”

“Is there anything more?” inquired Colonel

R‘H’fi: , -

e ought to take the darn thieves out
and give ’em a dose 0’ hickory,” declared old
Israel.

“ I reckon not, Mr. Gonder.
that you‘vo got enough out of them.
go, my friends.”

“Friends!” grumbled Gordon.
way you treat your friends!”

‘ It is the wav we treat viiur sort.

Seems to me,
You may

(weept Mr. Gondcr’s suggestion.”

' No further violence was attempted, however,
and the two castaways left the cabin. accom-
panied by the chief moonshiner to the place
where they had been halted.

Colonel Rapp pointed out the course which
they mi ht take to reach the river at a point
below w ere they had struck it: but something
seemed to weigh upon his mind, as he stared
strangely nt Gordon.

“ I Wonder where I have met you before?” he
said to that gentleman.

“ You are too much for me there.” answered

Gordon; “ but I am willing to my that I doubt .

whether it will be healthy for you to meet me
again.”

“ Do you threaten me? Vi'cll. I don’t care if
you do, and (you may just go along.”

Gray Gor on and Gerald Talcott trudged
away silently and VVllh rncful ('ountenancm.

. They were too much ashamed of themselves to

sin-alt to each other, or felt unable to do justice
to the subiect.

It was not until they reached the bottom-land
that they began to brighten up, and Gerald was
then the first to recover his spirits.

“Well, Mr. Gordon,” said be, “there is one
consolation for us in the midst of our misfor-

‘ " tunes. We have had a good breakfast.”

 

was all can."

“‘ And a good price we paid top it, too,” grum-
bled Gorflon. “ But I am glad ,0 see, my boy,

has.

l

‘ l

“ Is this the ‘

, v If you aro 1
going to talk like that, I shall feel inclined to '

 

 

l

 

that yo are disposed to hear your ailiicticns so 1

well, and

was done as by the way it was done. It was all

‘ ,my fault, and I ought to be tied to a tree and

thrashed for the stupid style in which I got us

into that scrgpe. It is sad to think, too, that it
by telling the truth.”

“ How so?”

“That’s just what the matter is, Gerald. If

' ‘ there was a preacher here, he would have a. fine
chance to make a sermon and biting out the

int that the truth must not be told at all times.
- ust now we are mournful examples of the evil

i effects of telling the truth.”

.“ I would not havo thought of looking at it in
If

‘ that light.”

“ But that is exactly the state of the case.

 I had lied to that confounded niooushincr, the

f the trut
' . was too tough to be believed.

. chances are that we Would have had no sort of

difl‘lcult . But I was foolish enough to tell him
and the truth, as is usually the case,
I could easily
have cooked u a. yarn which he would have

P
swallowed without the slightest difficulty, and

then we would have come through all right.”

.9 a. In.

 

*“ So you don‘t recommend telling the truth as

“ a rnctice.”

‘ Not always. You must know who it is that
you are givin itto, and be careful notto cast
your rls be ore swine.”

“ hat is your opinion of that old moon-

; miner?” inquired Gerald.

. “ The colonel? He is a. queer customer, and I
doubt-if he is altogether right in his head. But

‘ lie was sharp enough to join in with those
V » camps to rob us, and that settles his case.”

Gerald was not my to take this view of the

case. ,

“If the moonshiner wanted to rob us,” said
he “ he could have done it easily enough without
an ihg in those flatboat people.”

" I s 039 80,” answered Gordon; “ but that

 is shit 0 his ueerness. Perhaps he wanted to
I, V atom-proud” w

th his conscience and give a show
ght to the robbery. I don’t hear him as
g a. grudge as I hear those rascals of flat-
‘hdhtmen, and if I come across them again I will
be sure to make life a misery to them.”

By taking the route which had been pointed

' out to them by “ Colonel” Rap , the two friends

 crowed a bend and struck t 6 river several
Emilee below the/point where they had landed,

    

 utter a compandvely short journey. \

I am worried not so much by what E

 

where another flatboat was moored at the bank

Gonders, but somewhat larger.

This caused them to halt and consider what
they had better do.

“ That is a grod place to keep away from,”
was Herald’s opinion. “A burnt child dreads
the lire. and I am afraid of fintboats.”

“ \Vhat’s the. odds? “'0 have nothing to gain.
No enemies can hurt us, and we may find friends
to help us.”

nun...

nafin as he grasped her, and she resoluter en-

, deavorcd to do his bidding.
—a craft similar in appearance to that of the ,

Instantly the two young men, one on each
side of her, struck out boldly and Hg: i-onsly.

1 quartering across the current, and seeking to
a reach the sandbar, where they could at least find

a footing.

Being partially dammed by the grounded
steamer, the current was not as swift there as
further out in the stream: but it was strong
enough to sweep down to their destruction the
helpless ones who had gone overboard on that

Just then there came out of the flathont, and 1 side, thus removing one element of danger from
- the two swimmers and their charge.

stepped up on on the roof, a man whom Gordon
recognich at once.

“ Come on, Herald!” ho joyfully exclaimed.
“ IVe are all right now. That man is Josh Sim-
lxell. and lie. is a friend of mine.”

Gordon hastened to the ilatbont. and was in-
stantly doseried by the man on the roof, who
came down and greeted him warmly.

“ Why, Mr. Gordon, how did you ever get
here?”

“How did you ever get here, Josh, your-
self?"

" All your doing, Mr. Gordon. You helped
me to buy this boat and stm k it, and I have
born getting on right well. Como aboard and
sec i1 ll‘ yourself."

The two friends followed Josh Simbcll into
the boat, Where they discchred that the crew
consisted of five people—Josh, his two sons, his
wife and his father.

The flatboat was loaded with stoneware from
the southern part of Indiana, wlizch explained
Urey Gordon’s connection with the business,
and there was still a good stock on hand, to be
peddled out on the way down the river.

\Vhen Gordon had made Gerald Talcott ac-

; quaintcd with the flutboat people, he wanted to

satisfy his curiosity concernihg the presence of
the craft at that locality.

“ It is an out-of-the-way place,” said he.
“ There is no sign of a settlement about here,
and, I can’t imagine what business you find to
(l().°

“ IVe have done right Well here, though,” an-
‘swcrml Josh iiimbell. “ We have struck one of
the best settlements near here‘ that we have yet
come across.” ,

“Where is the settlement?” inquired Gordon.

“Not much of a settlement, but good enough
for us. Back in the woods is a moonshiners’
still that was needing jugs when we came. .In

he bend above here is a flatboat that takes a
ichr of stuff from the still, and those folks
have been wanting jugs. too. Between the two
1 have done a good stroke of business here, and
have disposed of nearly all my jug stock.”

“We struck that settlement. too,” observed
Gordon, “and it struck as very hard.”

“ What do you mean by that!”

Gordon related his experience with the Gon-
ders and the moonshiners, and declared his in-
tention of getting cv< n with them, or with the
ilatboamien at least, though it should take “a
month of Sundays.”

“I am willing to help you in that, if you are
in a hurry about it,” said Simbcll. “We are
not a big enough crowd to tackle the moon-
sliiners; but I reckon we can get away with the
scam is who robbed you.”

“ Illuch obliged to on, Josh; but you have
vour family and your iusiness to attend to, and
I don’t propose to let you fl ht my battles. I
shall ask you to lend me a litt 0 money, and put
me and my friend aboard the first boat you
sight Voing down the river."

“ Y‘criu shall have all the money I can s- are,
and that will only be paying you a part of what
I owa you.”

 

CHAPTER XI.

MORE CASTAWAYB.

IT was no easy contract that Mark Hannafln
and Silas Birch had undertaken when they pro-
posed to convey Eva Talcott from the burning

mat to a place of safety.

Of this fact they were fully aware; but they
had carefully measured the dangers and esti-
mated the chances, determining tho exact course
t 9 should take with coolness and Sagacity

'hlcll, under the circumstances, were worthy of
hi h praise.

boy had jumped off on the upper side of the
steamer, because most of the people who were
strug lin in the water were on the lower side
and t ey oped to be spared the diflicul and
danger of fighting their way throng the
thron .
Although this proceeding subjected them to
the danger of being swopt down against the
burning mass, the fact that the stern of the boat
lav tip-stream gave them a chance by vigorous
efforts to avoid that peril. ,

Both were young and active men, as well as
excellent swimmers, and both had de rived
themselves of a considerable portion 0 their
clothing, so as to have as little incumbrance as
possible in the severe task before them.

Yet they had all they could do and more than
once the contract threatened to be too much for
their strength and skill. I

“ Just try to keep your head out of the water,”
Mlu Taloott, and do nothing at all,” said Han-

‘ u. .A

 

 

Eva was at first buoyed up by her clothing,
but it soon became wet, seriously retarding the
motions of her conductors.

For their part, they exerted themselves yet
more VigoI‘OUsly, striving to reach a place of
safety before their burden became too heavy for
them to manage.

It was to be feared that the best they could
do would not be gmd enough. as the. current and
the downward suction were so strong as to hear
them, in s iite of their utmost efi'orts. toward
the how 0 the steamer, where the tire was blaz-
ing most fiercely.

The tire was what was then to be dreaded, as
the n ind was blowing up-stream, and the heat
near the boat was frightful.

Eva Talcott knew this, and appealed to the
young men to desert her when they came within
reach of the scorching clement.

“Let me go!” she insisted. “It will be as
much as you can do to save yourselves. Please
let me go!”

“ Strike out, Birch!” ordered Marl: Hannnfln.
“ Strike out now for all you‘re worth. Cue meie
push, and we’re safe l”

They did both strike out, putting all their
strength of limb and lung into the, push, and in
another moment they were safe, or nearly so, as
they just shaved the bow of the burning bOPt.
and had but a few more strokes to swim to take
them into shoal water.

Those few strokes they swam, and their feet '

touched the sandy bottom, not a bit to soon, as
both the men were exhausted.

In spite of the. swift current they managed to
kecpthcir feet, and led their char re through the
gradually shoaling water, until tiey were safe-
on the sandbar.

Though the entire distance had not been more

than two hundred yards, it was a wonder that ‘

it had been safely accomplished.

So close had they been to destruction thr-t
Mark Hannafln, who had been on the lower
side, discovered that his hair was scorched.

“ It was a close shave, Birch,” he said, M htn

he had recovered his breath—“could l'ardly/

have deen. closer—but a miss is as good as a.
mile, and we are safe.” '

“ And my safety I owe toyou two,” said Eva,
who had seated herself on the sand with her
com anions.

“ FVe were glad of the chance,” observed
Mark. ’

“ Thank you; but I know that you risked
your lives to save me. What are we to co
now ?”

“It seems to me, Miss Talcott, that we w'll
not have much trouble in reaching the shore
from here. It must be shoal water most of the
way between this bar and the bank, and we may
hope to be able to wade. across. Anyhow, there
is no current inside to speak of. and I think we
can make the trip without much difficulty.”

“ Why can we not reach that steamboat
which has just come up?”

The boat in question. a stern-wheel craft
heavily loaded with cotton, had by this time
got as near to the burning steamer as she dared
to come, and was busily employed in icking out
of the water the few people who had) managed
to kee afloat. ‘
_ As or the ill-fated Rowena, she was wrapped
in flames from stem to stern, and would soon be
burned to the water’s ed e.

“ That steamboat can t come near us,” an-
swered Hannafln. “ If she dared torisk taking
lire from the Rowena the shoal water would not
let her approach this sandbox. What do you
think about it, Silas?”

‘6 
Birch. don’t think the peep? on the stern-
Wheeler are likely to bother a utus anyhow,
as the have as much as they can attend to. If
the s ould happen to notice us they will con-
clu e that we are safe here, and sure to get help
if we want it.”

“ Besides,” su gestcd Mark, “I know just
where we are, a d am acquainted with some
people livin near here, who “ill be glad to take
care of you or my sake if not for your own.”

The stern-wheeler, in fact. did
in the vicini ‘ of the nearly destroyed Rowena,
as all she (1 do there was soon accompllilhed.

After saving the lives that it was possible to
save, she steamed away up the river, without
apparently payin any attention to the three
peo le on the son or.

va Talcott sighed as she saw the steamer
leaving the scene, as she was
dening thoughts.

The stern-wheeler would. soon carry to some
port the news of the destruction of the Rowena,

I
v, / I I

l

opinion is the same as yours,” said
It

oppressed by sad-

notrcmain long . ‘

A.;. ,._ 12.: .
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which would speedin be spread over the coun-
try, of course reaching her mother in their
pleasant Louisiana home.

The list of the saved would be published, and
in that list. would be neither her name nor
Gerald’s, though it was known down yonder
that they had taken passage on the Rowena.

It was sad to imagine the anguish of her
mother at the receipt of this intelligence, with
no news from tho dwr ones to assure her that
even one of them had been saved, and this

thought troubled Eva far more than her own .

cheei'less and still perilous condition.

Therefore it was almost with a feeling of joy I

that she welcomed Mark Hannahn’s proposal
that they should endeavor to cross the remain-
ing stretch of water and reach the shore.

As it had proved to be impossible to get away
on the rescuing steamboat, the next best thing
would be to find some town or settlement from
which she could send news of her safety to her
mother.

While Mark was looking for the shoalest water
and the best chance to make the crossing, a (lis-
covery was made that promised to be of imme~
diate benefit to the little party. ‘

A few people had just come to the shore, hav-
ing doubtless been attracted by the smoke and
fire of the hurnin steamer, and some of them
Were preparing to aunch a skiff.

They hailed the three. on the saudbar, and
promised to bring them off directly.

“ That is better luck than I had hoped for,”
said llzinnafin, “and now it won‘t be long be-
fore we get into comfortable quarters.”

One man 0t into the skiff as soon as it was
launched, and ulled across to the sandbar.

As‘ he turn to get out of the skiff when it
landed there, he was at once recognized by
Hannaiin.

“ Hello, Bob Shropshire!” he jo 'fully ex-
claimed. "I don‘t know any man would be
better pleased to  here than you.”

Bob Shropshire was a tall and brawny ryoung

man dark featured and roughly clad, an With
the lock of a person whom one would not care
to meet alone on a dark night; but his presence
there with a skiff could not be considered other-
wise than as a blessing to the party on the sand-
bar.
“ Is it really you, Mr. Hannaiin?” he answer-
' ed. “ You‘re about the last man I’d ha’ theft 0’
strikin’ hyar. \Vas you aboard o’ that boat?”
“ Of course I was, and so were my friends
here.”
“ You’re all dumed lucky to git away alive,
I should say. VVeJuus smelt the smoke and saw
the light, and We heard that a steamboat was
burnin’ up liyar and so we hurried down to see
what we could do; but none of us had the faint-
est iiotion o’ findin’ you in this scrape. Do you
reckon there’s a chance to pick up anybody

else?
“Not the least chance, Bob. The sternwheel-
§ er up yonder took aboard all that could be got
hold of, and the rest are 10 since past saving.

“ Any goods or anythin’ o-itin’ about?”

“ No, indeed. The fire has got them all. If
your skifl’ will carry us, Bob, we will get in and
let you ,take us across.”

“The skiff ’ll kerry you well enough. Help
the lady in, and one 0’ you sit forrud.’

‘ The three passengers took their places care—
fully, and in a few moments brawny Bob Shrop-
shire had ferried them safely to the shore,
where they climbed the bank, and Bob and his
friends hauled the skiff up after them.

Two other Shropshires were there. an old man
and a young one, and beSIdes these there were

\ two boil; and a girl, rustics of the backwoods
t , w o stared'stupidly at the strangers, and
had not. a word to say.

“ If I remember ri ht, Bob,” said Hannafln,
“it must be as muc as a mile from here to
‘your place. How can we go out there? Is there
any way to get a team to carry us?”

“One of us mought go u to the house and
git a team, or a hess for the ady, anyhow.”

“ Is it worth while to takeso much trouble
and waste so much time!” inquired. Eva. “ For
my part, I feel able to walk a mile or no, and
that will be better than waiting here."

After a little discussion it was agreed that
the attempt should be made, and. the hree cast-
aways With the three Shropshires set out to
walk through the woods.

. The tramp was an unpleasant one, to say the
least of it, especially for the young lady, whose
wet clothing made walking very disagreeable
for her: but it was not as bad as it might have
been, as the forest trees gave a grateful shade,
and the road taken by the arty was little
traveled and therefore not at a l dusty.

80' Eva trudged alon heroically. her com-
panions halting now an then to allow her to
rest. and at about the middle of the afternoon
they reached the abode of the Shropshires.

This was along and low log house, one of the
double variety—that is to say, it consisted of
two similar houses, the wide space between
them being roofczl and floored, so as to form an
open ball.

There was no fencing about the house, and
but little appearance of cultivation or any sort
of farm work in sight.

~ In fact, the house wore a slouehy and armored-

for look, as if it were but a temporary abiding-
place, and the present occupants had no interest
in their surroundings.
CHAPTER XII.
THE NERVE “ DOWN YONDER.”

TALCOTT’s LANDING was not so called because
it was in any sense a town, as it was merely a
landing, the only bui’dings in sight, besides
those connected with the Talcott mansion, be-
ing a cotton press and a general store near the
ri ver-bank.

It was located in a big bend of the Mississippi,
with a large. island in front of it, and on all
1 sides but one a fertile and well—cultivated plan-
tation.

The Talcott mansion was a com icuous ob-
ject from the rchr, and was general y admired,
not because it was a magnificent structure, but
because it was large, roomy and otherwise, at-
tractive, having the appearance of a dwelling
exactly suited to the country and the climate.

It was, indeed, quite too large for the needs of
M13. Talcott and her two children, especmlly as
one of them had been absent from home during
the greater part of three years, and the other
was then away on a trip that combined business
with pleasure.

When they were both at home however, the
big house was usually filled with guests. and
there, was a jolly time on the Talcott planta-
tion.

Mrs. Talcott had been a widow with two
children when she Illfll‘l‘lt‘d Colonel Talcott, a
vcr wealth but somewhat ancient widower
Wi‘. no chik rcn, and the match was not gener-
ally approvcd of by the old and aristocratic
families of the neighborhmid, to whom the new
Mrs. Talcott was a nobody whom the old gentle-
man, as they raid, picked up somewhere at the
north. ~

Yet it had been in every respect and toall
concerned a most ha py marriage, and Mrs.
Ji‘alcott, entie, ‘ladyl' e, and fully equal to her
position, ad soon succeeded in becominga gen—
eral favorite, even among those who envied her.

Colonel Talcott had not only been very fond
of his wife, but had loved her children as if
they were his own, his affection for them being
such that he had caused them to take his name,
and by his will had givcn them all his property,
reservin the use of the house and a sufficient
income ior Mrs. Talcott during her life.

Ono of the (losest friends of Mrs. Talcott, if
not the very clow‘st, was Colonel Bastrop. a
planter living near by, who was a widower with
one grown son.

It was supp0sed by some that he aspired tothc
hand of the widow; but it became fully and
fairly known that she was decidedly OpIX>SGd to
this idea of taking a third husband, and Colonel
Bastrop abandoned his as iirations, if he had
any, in favor of his son wrence, who was
known to be infatuated with Eva Talcott.

So Mrs. Talcott, at the time we meet her, was
a well-preserved and still handsome matron,
who wan nothing in the world but to see her
children 88. e at home. i

It was uneasiness concerning them that caused
her to be seated on the veranda, overlooking the
river, anxiously watching Colonel Bastrop and
his son as they rode up to the house.

Aside from any such personal feeling, they
were both well worth lOokiug at, the father be-
ing a fine-looking man of middle age, and Law-
rence a handsome young fellow of twenty—three.

“Any news et, colonel?" she asked as they
came up on t e veranda after hitching their
horses.

“ I have brou ht none, my- dear Mrs. Talcott.
Lawrence and rode over to ask if on have
received any, and to wait for the icksburg

cket, which surely ought to brin some tid-
ings of the absent ones. I am la to see you
looking so well, thou ,h them sacloud upon
your face which I wo d willin l banish.”

“ I try to. banish it, Colonel trop, b t all
my efforts are in vain. I must confess t at I
am becomin ve uneasy about my children.’

“ Would t at t re were no cause or your un-
easiness; but I am afraid that there is, as the
same feelin afflicts me. Is it certain that they
left Louisv1 le on the Rowena i" ‘

“ There can scarcely be a doubt of that. They
both wrote that they had engaged their pas
sage on that boat, and if they had changed
their minds they would have written in.
Is it possible that the Rowena has gone own
the river?”

“ With those two on board, and without
landing here? Quite impossible, my dear lady.
Besides, there has been a good Watch kept on
the river, and at the present stage of water no
boats go on the other side of the island. No,
madam, it is safe to sa that the Rowena has
not ssed Talcott’s Lan ing.”

“ ut she. is surely due here.” ,

“ I am sorry to say that she is more than due.
According to the best information I can get, she
should have been here, at the Very latest, two
dag: ago.” '

wrence Bastrop undertook to so that
steamboats from up the river were oftai elnggd
by dischargin and taking on freight, y
nding .an by various other. con ’ its

t must be allowed for; but his well-meant ef-

 

 

 

 

forts did not tend to restore the confidence of
the older peo le.

The delay ad already been too great to be
accounted for by the necessities of business, and
the river was at too good a stage to admit the
supposition of grounding.

“ I am afraid that. there has been a disaster,”
said Mrs. Talcott in a suppressed tone. “ Is the
Rowena regarded as a safe boat!”

“ As safe as any,” answcrcd Colonel Bastrop.
“ She is one of the best on the river."

A steamboat whistle sounded, and Mrs. Tal-
cott started. her painful excitement driving the
blood from her face. '

"Calm yourself. my dear lady,” entreated
her old friend. " You may need all your forti-
tude. That whistle sounded frini down the
riVer, and it must be the packet that is coming
in.”

Directly there came ufliug into the bend
from below a boat which) was at once recog-
nized as the Vicksburg packet.

“I will go down to the landing, Mrs. Tal-
cott,” said Colonel Bastrop, “ and we Will soon
get the news if there is any to be had.” '

“ Better let me rim down there, father.” in-
sisted Lawrence. “I am li htcr on the heels
than you are. Stay here an comfort Mrs. Tal-
cott: and I will bring up what letters and pack-
ages there are as soon as possible.”

“ Be sure to get a per from the boat,” or-
dercd his father, and flwrence hastened awn .

The packet shoved her nose in at the ban ,
transacted her business at the little landing,
and s .cdily steamed away. and shortly Law-
rence astrop came back to the house at his
fastest walk.

“Here are a couple of letters for you, fa.
thcr,” said he: “ but they must be business let-
ters; and here is one for Mrs. Talcott, which
rooms to be in the samp category, and that is all
there was for any of ..” ‘

“Did you get a paper?" demanded Colonel
Bastrop.

" Yes, sir, I got the Vicksburg Herald. I
will look it over immediately. Perhaps it will
have some news that will interest us."

Colonel Bastrop be an to open his letters a
little ncrwiusly, ant Lawrence proceeded to
glance at the paper, anxiously watched by Mrs.

Talcott. '

Hardly had he opened the sheet when there
came suclia sudden and startling chan over
his face as drew 'a she rp cryirom Mrs. alcott;
and compelled Colonel Bastrop to look up in
alarm. ‘

“ “'hat is the matter, my son 2’” demandedthc
old gentleman.

IA".\'I‘(‘D(‘O was not able to answer immediate-
ly. and when he did speak his voice was feeble
and l rokcn.

“This is terrible,” he said, “Mrs. Talcott;~

you must try to control yourself.”

“ Vihat has happened if” '

“ The worst I am afraid. The Rowena has
been destroyed by fire, and the loss of life was
frightful.
the headlines tell the story."

“ But some were saved, Lawrence,” insisted

his father.

“ Yes, sir.
as they are known, and the names we want to
find are not there.”

“ Is there a list of the lost?”

“ Only a small one. You know how that is.

A few names. and those of our friends are not. '

it could not be other- '-

among them.”

Of course it was so, and
 Just as it always is when a river steamer
is destroyed by'fire or explosion—the passenger
list burned with the boat or sunk in the safe, the
clerk anion

collections of the saved, who necessarily know,
little about their fellow passengers.

So the news came to many homes, arriving
late and in an unlooked for manner, giving use
surance only of a calamity that could not be
meas . ‘

Scarcely any knowledge but that of these who
were sure that their loved ones had been on
board the ill fated boat, and among such unfor-
tunates Mrs. Talcott was to be reckoned:

She had borne the disclosure bravely up to the '

words last uttered by Lawrenc’e‘Bastrop, show-
ing only a white face full of horror and despair:
but then the strain became
and she fainted.

The servants were hastily called, and while .

they were attending to their stricken mistress

Lawrence Bastrop read to his father the newo- ,

paper account of the Rowena disaster.

There was little add to the information he
had alread given, e cept the location of the ca-
lami , an he fact that all the passengem'wto
were ‘nown to be saved had been taken tolera-
phis on the reaming steamer. -

When Mrs. Talcott had mvered from he:
swoon, her friends spoke of action at once, he-
lieving that to be better calculated to comfort
her than any more Verbal sympat

“ Do you suppose it is pomible
my children can have camped?” she asked.

‘Thereis'at leastacbanceof the so of
both ofthem,” answered Colonel Bash-op. “

aldisastrong andactive young man,“  f

I have not yet read the account; but

Here is a list of the saved, as far I

the lost, and no way of getting at .
the names 0 the missing, can-opt through the re,-

too great for her, a

't eitherot I

 

 

   
 
 
 
 
  
   
   
    
   
   
 
 
 
  

iv.

 

12'

have always regarded Eva as well able to take
care of herself. The newspaper account is very
meager, and no positive opinions can be based
upon 1t.’

“But, Colonel Bastrop. if they were alive, or
either of them, we surely Would hear from them
in some wa '.” '

“ Possibly not. If they escaped to the shore,
it is quite likely that they found themselves far
from any telegraph wire. J mean to get ready
at once, and will go as speedin as possible to
Memphis, and from there to the place where the
disaster occurred. I will institute a thorough
search, telegraphiiig you as soon as I get any
news whatever, and will arrange for having my
telegrams forwarded to you without any delay.”

“I will go with you, father,” declared Law-
rence. _

“It does not seem to be necessary, my son. I
se I am able to do all that can be done.”

‘ Do you suppose, sir, that I can remain here
inactive While there is this uncertainty about the
fate of Eva Talcott! I could not bear that.”

Mrs. Talcott said that she would prefer that
Lawrence should go with his father, and it was
settled that he should do so.

CHAPTER XIII.
STRIKING A CLEW.

GRAY GORDON and Gerald Talcott reached
Memphis in somewhat better shape than they
had shown when they left Josh Simbell’s flat~
boat, and immediately upon their arrival they

 

so

 

‘ were struck by the news of the loss of the Rowena.

. iv,"

 

 

_ in
 hi hi
.y‘ 

5

i

This was a terrible blow to Gerald, and his old
friend seemed to feel it scarcely less than him-
self; but Gordon’s head was clear, and he at
once applied himself to the task of getting hold
of the facts of the disaster and determining what
was best to be done. /

The published accounts were of little value
to him in this investigation, as there was no
mention in them of Eva Talcott, nor any hint
b which her fate could be guessed zit—except,
0 course, the overwhelming probability that
she must have been lost, as she was not iiown
to have been saved.

If she was dead, however, her body might be
found, and. whether she was living or dead. it
viz? necessary to search for her as soon as pos-
S e.

“ “'0 kn )w just where the boat was burned ”
said Gordon, “ and we can easily get there. t
is too late to start today; but we will go down
there in the morning as soon as we can get

,awa .” l

“ 0 you think there is a chance that my sis-
ter may be safe 9" asked Gerald.

“Of course there is a chance, and a. good
chance, too. It always happens after such a
disaster that people turn up at unexpected flaws
and in unexpected ways. The loss of life is
never near as great as at first re 'rted, as the

missin keep coming forward as t ey do after a

. big‘ ba le.”

Then we must go to Work at once on the
chances.”

“,That is just what we are going to do; but
'the first thing necessary is for you to got word
of your safety to your mother in the slwedicst

ible manner, and tell her what you are
about here. We will 'need money, too, and I
shall Send for some immmliatoly.”
‘This part of the programme was ulckly car-
ried out, and then the two friends usteiied to
re some clothin that they needed, and to
complete their outfit )y the purchase of revol-
vers and ammunition, using for those purposes
the enter part of the money that Gordon had
got rom Josh Simbeil.

The next thing was to hunt up such of the
Rowena survivors as were still in the city, and
tomake inquiries among them in the hope of
learning something concerning Eva Talcott.

In the course of this quest they came across
Hank Byers, the gambler who had enlightened
Mark Hannafln and Silas Birch as to the stand-

g of “ Ben Gray,” and from him they secured
interesting and important information.

o ore they could et anything out of him,
however, the were 0 liged torsatisfy his own

: ‘ ‘ curiosity, as is amazement at seeing them there

Twas ehtrcme.
“How on earth did you two happen to turn
up here?” he demanded. “What does this
'I

“. “’hat does what mean?” answered Gordon.

‘“ You were missed'from the Rowena the night
before she was burned, and there was the deuce
of an excitement about you. EVer body sup-
msed that you had been lost over . rd, and

are was no doubt that you were dead. Please
explain that little mystery.”
~ ‘i‘ Oh, that didn’t amount to much. We took
auction to suicide, you see, and jumped over-
board tgr’igether. Then we repented and swam

‘ .5\ 1* (“Ithke that in ms ,and only wonder that

."b

you didn’t fly up to t a moon while you were
about it. You are a queer customer, Gray Gor-
don, and I suppose there is no uso in trying to

‘. squeeze the truth out of you.”

, “ Sn pose you give me a chance to operate on
you, tlihn. You must have been on the Rowena

I = when she was destroyed. How did you get out
of th ’ .» -

e scraper

. “That makes it a serious busiiicss.‘

rdThe’ Old» River Sport. K ‘,

 

“ Oh, that didn‘t amount to much,” answered
Byers, copying the st in of the old man. “I
just dived under the urning boat, and swam
up here to Memphis.”

Gray Gordon was visibly annoyed at being
“ picked up” in this fashion.

“I will be greatly obliged to you if you will
come. down to facts.” said he. “ My young
friend here, as I so pose you know, had a sister
on the Rowena, ainl’every fact that we can learn
may have a bearing on her fate.”
’ replied
Hank Byers. “and you are welcome lo all the
facts I have been able to get lioldof. As re-
gards myself, I have In en mixed up in so many
river disasters that I always know just what to
do, and I am one of the Lord‘s luck ' ones, any-
how. I had a cool head on my sliou ders, and I
kept out of the way of the fire as well as I Could,
and watched my chances. When the stern—
wheel boat came near enough, I jumped into the
water and swam to her.”

“ \Vliat became of Mark Hannafin?" inquired
Gordon.

“That is just what I was going to tell you
about. I would hate to raise any false hopes:
but I should not be a bit surprised if the young
lady you spoke cf is alive and well.”

"Bless you for that!” exclaimed (Jerald; but
Gordon wanted to know what grounds Byers
had for his statement.

“ Of course the young lady was at the stern
of the boat, andI heard Mark llannalin speak
to Silo Birch of a plan he had formed for saving
her, and then they both started aft. I was too
busy with looking after Haul: Byers totakc any
further notice of them, and I saw nothingr more
until I haul "(it aboard the stern-wheeler.”

“ \l'hat id you see then?” 'agcrly asked
Gerald.

“ On a S‘aiidl‘ar out in the water. near which
’(he. Rowena bud grounded. .I saw three people-—
two men and a woman-and I am quite sure
that one of the men was Mark Haniiafin. It is
reasonable to suppose that the woman was
the young lady of whom we have been speak-
inc.”

his was great news, and the two friends were
heartily thankful for it.

“Mr. Byers," said Gordon, “ you are the best
man I have ,met in a long timz. You are an
angel in the disguise of a chill-sharp. You
havo lightened the heart of my young friend,
and have done me a rent favor. “'0 both
thank you for the gom news you have given
us, and hope that there may be no drawback to
' 19

“ I hope 50, mo,” aiiswcrol Byers, “ and I can
only say that I have given you the best I had in
the shop.”

Gordon and Gerald discussed the situation
hopefully when their informant had left them,
and were more than ever of the opinion
that immediate action on their pu‘rt was no-
cessary.

Though it was highly probable that Eva’s
life had been saved, it was to be supposed that
she was under the control of Mark Hannafin,
whose desirns or intentions with regard to her
were well mown to Gerald.

Hannafin‘s character and pu ses, as under-
stood by Gerald and his old riend, were not
such as to convince them that Eva, if alive, was
entirely safe.

“ If he has saved my sister’s life.” said the
young man, “that Will offset his attempt to
murder me; but it will go no further than that,
apd”we want to get to her as soon as possi-
b e.

“That is understood,” answered Gordon;
“ but I want you to know, my boy, that I am
an intensely practical man, with not a bit of
sentiment about me, and here comes in the
money question. It goes without saying that
we will need more money than we have got.”

“IVhen I telegraphed to my mother.” sug-
gestml Gerald, “I told her to send me some
money.”

“I telegraphed to my bankers to send me
some, too, and I think the lightning is likely to
strike me sooner than it will you; but I am
afraid that it won’t strike either of as soon
enough, and I mean to try another scheme.”

“ What is that!”

“I have about twenty dollars left of the
money I got from J ()sli Simbcll, and I am going
to match it against a fare game in this toWn.
and either make or break to-night.”

“I don’t think you are likely to break, Mr.
qulop, judging by your luck and skill at

o .

I. ,

“ I don’t think I am, either. If I did I would
not risk m money. I feel, too, like the boy
who was at r the ground-hog—I am out of meat
and have ot to win.”

“ May go with you?"

“Not much. In fact, my boy, not a bit of
it. I am a hardened wretch, and understand
just what I am about, while you are supposed
to be young and innocent. am I have reason to
‘know that you are an easy prey for sharpens.
No, Gerald, if you don’t fee like sleeping, go to
the hotel and quietly wait or me there. For

 

d liquor alone until

want you to leave cards
illi- busineu is settled.”

your mother’s sake, as wc‘lb‘as for your sister’s.

 

 

Gerald promised to obey the injunctions of his
old friend. and Gray Gordon set out to attend
to his “ business.”

CHAPTER XIV.
A sTiiEAi; or LUCK.

‘rORDox was acquainted with the streets of
Memphis. but did not know what may be styled
the secrets of the city, and therefore. finding
himself comparativdy a strangM' iii a strong»
place, he did not know where to go to find The
“ business” he was seeking.

Luckily he again met Hank Byers, who wil~
lineg put him on the. track when he stated his
desire.

“ I’ve ot a few dollars left,” said he, “ and.
want to low them in ata faro game, if I can
find one that will stand the racket.”

“ That’s easycnough to do,” answered Byers.
“If you will accept me as a steerer, I will take
you to Mrs. Haiinafin's den.”

“ Hannaiin?” ejaculated Gordon, as if the
name was a surprise to him.

“ You know Mark Hannafin, one of the men
you played poker with on the Rowena. It is his
mother who keeps this place, and llltl‘O is not a
more decent game in town.”

“ She is a widow, i suppose?”

“A Sort of widow; but I can’t exactly say
how that is. I am not sure whether ln-r 1.11s-
band is dead or it is a case of se )aiatio:=. He
was Jim flannafin, I have heart , a man who
was well known on the river some years ago.
and there is a queer story about him, though I
can’t pretend to give you the rights of it.”

" “'cll, I don’t need to worry about bygoiics
when I am going to fight the tiger. Are you in-
terested in that game, Mr. Byers!”

“ I? Not a dollar’s worth.”

“ And you don‘t care whether the bank wins
or loses?”

“ I believe I Would prefer to see it lose, as that
tiger has clawed me pretty badly wheneVer I
have stopped in Memphis.”

“ Now is your chance to get even,” observed
Gordon. “ I will give you a straight tip ——just
follow my lead to—night, and you will put dollars
in your pocket.”

“IVliyso? Do you think you are going to
win 2”

“ Sure of it.”

“ If you have got an infallible system, or have

struf-k a sign that never misses, you are gone
u . ‘
“ I have nothing of the sort. I am spinning
this for you as fine  silk. I have a lucky fit
on this night, and it is pure luck that is going to
carry me through. I need money, you see, and
must have it right awa .”

“ You speak as if the bank was owing you the
money.”

“ It is going to pay me the money retty
soon, and if you want a share you had otter
follow my lead. This is one of my lucky times,
I tell you.
(lace me as a friend from up the country. Then
leave me alone, and let me work the scheme to
suit myself.” ‘

“ Do you mean
t Era gm V r
“ erhaps so; but I can assure you that no-
bod will play a brace game on me.”

rs. Hannufin’s "place ” was found to be a
few quiet and apparently respectable rooms
over a. saloon.

It could hardly fail. to be quiet, as the pro-
prietress was always there, and her presence
was supposed to be sufficient to insure order.

to pass yourself ofl.’ 'as a.

Byers introduced his companion as “Mr.’

Gordon, a friend of mine from up the country,
who wanted to find a taro game.’ ,

Mrs. Hannafln, who appeared to be a pare-
faced and somewhat careworn woman on the
shady side of forty, but stylish in her up arel
and energetic in her manner, looked sharp ' at
the stranger as she, grocth him.

“ Your friend is welcome, Hank,” she said.
“and we will try to accommodate him. He will
find a square game here, as this bank is satisfied
with its percentage.”

At the fare—table a rather monotonous game
was in progress, a few men betting small
amounts as the cards were dealt in a rcr~
functory manner, when Gray Gordon Seated
himself before the “lay-out” and looked up at
the, dealer. _, _

“ Is this the sure-enough tiger?” he inquired.
“If it is, I want to rufilofihe for of the ani-
mal.”

“Proceed to ruffle.” responded the dealer.
“This is the uineiRo a] Bengal, and you mm.
tangle your ads in is hair to your heart’s
content. If he scratches or bites, it Is not the
fault of the keeper." . .

“'ith a smile at this fair warning, the man
from amount proceeded to “tangle,” and he
began and continued the performance in a. style
that astonished the dealer and everybody else in
the rec

It wig-as he told Byers—he had a lucky fit

on. and was bound to win.

There did not seem to be any plan or system
in his betting, as he placed his mone'.’ recklessly
on one card or’anofhcr as the whim seemed to

strike him, but he won from the start and kept

 

All I ask of you, Byers, is to intro- »

I»

3‘

.v .4 no...“ ‘tm~_‘ L

,g ‘ r . .
W, ... ,.,,

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my 5.5;;

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kc-‘ an ‘

 

 

 

t.



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.mo—‘Vr— . .... ..

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.4

 

Tile Gullivers'port-

13

 

 

 

on winning, the turn being called against him
but once while he sat there.

The other players ceased making their small
bets to watch the bigger gamc, and the contest
settled down to a struggle bctwccn the bank and
the stl'ullgc)‘.

Hunk Byers did not at first take advantage of
the “point “ that his companil u had given him.
but soon opened his eyes to Gordon’s cvtraordi-
nary run of luck, and hustcncd to rccurc a share
of it by following the lead of the lucky playcr.

He was rathcrlatc, hchvcr, in coming to this
conclUSion, and did not get the full benefit he had
hoped for from the run, as Gordon, whom he had
a groodly pile of big chips before him, called
L m .s.

l " I don‘t want to break this bank," he said.

“ A man needn’t make a hog of hianf l)"‘('ausc :

'

i

l

he happens to strike a streak of luck, and I am i

going to cash in my chips.”

This was speedily done, and the dcaler, as he
shoved the money over to the stranger, express-
ed the hope that he would call again and give
the bank a chance.-

As Gordon rose from his seat and sauntercd
away, he was accosted by Mrs. Hunnaiin, who
regarded him smilingly and with evident in-
terest.

“ You have been very lucky to—night.” said
she. “ I wish you would favor me with a few
minutes convcrsat ion. ”

“ “'ith pleasure,” answered (lordon, and ho
excused himself to Hank Byers, who left the
house.

Mrs. Hannafin led the way into another
reom. Which was comfortably as wcll as hand-
somely furnished, and to a, table in a corner.

The table suggestml an idca to Gordon, and he
acted on it at oncc.

“Will you allow me to order a bottle of
wine?” he asked, “ and will you kindly help me
empty it”

“Certainly,” she answered, as she sounded a
bell, and the order was given.

“ Yes, Mrs. Hannafin,” observed Gordon, as
he raised his glass and nodded, " I have been
very lucky to-night. ‘ A fool for luck,’ as tho
old saying goes.”

“ But you are no fool,” she replied.

“ Pcrhapsl am not, in some things. I was
smart enough to know that I had a lucky fit on
and to take advantage of it, and this is where
my meanness comes in.”

“ What meanness?”

“I was sure that I mould win, you see, before
I came in here, and for a man to buck against
your bank when he has a. sure thing is too much
ike robbing the widow and orphan. The fact
is, madam that I needed a certain sum of
money, ant. wanted it right away. I have
got  you know, but I shall regard it as a
oan

“You might have got a loan here, Mr. Gor-
don, without taking so much trouble.”

“ Indeed! I would not have thought of asking
such a favor from a stranger.”

" You are not a stranger to me, sir—at least,
I know you well by reputation. I have often
heard of Gray Gordon, and have had a curiosity
to see him. You havo been mentioned to me
as a wealthy old sport, who occasionally takes
a trip on the river and makes things hot for the

s.”

‘I am sorrv to learn that I am so well
known,” remarked GOrdon. “If I am getting
famous, I shall have to haul in my horns and
quit that line of business.”

‘f‘i ‘Are you a. Californian?’ inquired Mrs. Han-
na n.

“ I have lived in California.”

“Was it there that on made your fortune?"

“ Such as it is, 1 pic 'ed it up there.”

“ gambling?”

is es, mummy

“ You must be a champion card-sharp.”

“Not a bit of it. I scarcely touched a card
While I was on the Pacific Coast.”

“ I don’t understand you, Mr. Gordon. You
have just told me that you made your money by
gambling.” .

“And so I did but there 15 more than one
kind, you see. Cfompared with gambling in
stocks, card-shaping is such a picayune and
small tato business that it is not worth speak-

. ing 0 . That is the sort of scheme to make rr

break on. Minin stacks were my strong hold,
and I won right a 011%”
, “ I wish I could Slim 9 something of the sort.
‘1 am tired of keeping such a place as this.”

.“ Do “on have to run it all alone?” sym-

_ pathetically inquired Gordon. “Are you a
' widow then?”

“I sup se I ma
husband £0 dead to 
“Ah! some family unpleasantness, I sup-

pass for a widow. My

pose?” .

“ Nothing of the kind. It was a case of mur-
der. My husband was killed, you see.”

“Then he must be dead tool] the world as
well as to you.” suggested, Gordon.

“ I can’t exactlv say that he is. It is a very
strange affair. _ 0 you care to hear the story?”

“ I am deeply interested, madam.”

“ My son Mark is now nearly twenty-five
,yearsold,and that makes we consider myself
.anold woman. Years ago, when Mark was a

 

little follow, we lived in a cottage. below (‘ov-

 

l

ington, and Jim Hannaiin, my husband, who‘

was one of the smartest sports on the river,
used to come to see us as often as he could.

" One night, when he had )I‘OIIllSOd us a visit,
he did not come as soon as expected him, and
I walked out to meet him.

“ The road ran through a piece of woods near l

my cottage, and just as I got to that piece of
woods I heard two shots, one a little after the
other.

“ I was scared and dazcd at first, connecting
the shots with my husband‘s visit, and fearing
that he had l‘ccn wnylaid and murdered: but I
soon pluckcd upconrngc and ran in the direction
from which the sounds had come.

“ Pretty soon I stopped, worsc than dazed and
shaking with fear, for in a little glade thcrc.
into which the moonlight came freely, lay my
husband on the ground, and over him stood a.
man with a pistol in his hard.

" I did not dare to stir until that man went l

away; but as soon as he was out of sight I
hurried to my husband, and found him dead, as
I supposed. '

“ I ran home and get help and sent for a doc-
tor, and we took him to the house, and after a
while he came to his senses.”

" Then he lived?” exclaimed Gordon.

“ Yes, he lived, after a fashion. The doctor
raid that the bullet had injured his brain. and it
had certainly upset him completely. He got
xvcll, strong and hearty, but was never the same
man again.”

“ How was he changed!"

" All his former life had gone from him and
he had no 1‘cmcmbl'ancc of it at all. He ncw

nothing of his wife or his boy, and I was to 1

him only a kind stranger who u as taking care
of him.

Though he had hcrn a card-sharp for ‘

years, after that he did not know one card from .

another, and did not want to know anything
about them.” ’

“ W'hat became of him?” inquired Gordon.

“I had some money laid away that he had
given me, and I sold my place and the furniture
and brought him down here, thinking that a

change of air and climate would help him. But
he was the 1 ame here that he was up there. He

seemed to be fond of me and Mark, but when
we claimcd to be his Wife and Son he got angry,
and at last he left us.

He is knocking about ;

somcwhcre now, busy at one thing and another, ‘

and making a good living for himself, as I un-
dcrstand.”

"That is a strange case,” observed Gordon,
after a little reflection. “ I suppose that with

the rcst...of his forgetting he had forgottrn;

his own name. If so, what name does he go by
nowi’"

“ “'hcn he came to his senses after he was
shot, I told him he had got a rap on his head,
and the word stuck to him. Since then he has
called himself Rapp, and believes it to be his
name.”

This was highly interesting information to
Gordon; whom it carried back at once ti the old
moonshiner who had helped the Gondcrs rob
him; but he made no mention \of that affair to
Mrs. Hannafln.

“ Did you know the man who shot your hus-
ban '2” he inquired.

" He was a stranger to me; but I carried away
a picture of him in m mind, and from the de-
scription I could give learned that ho was a
river sport, a man who had been a particular
friend of Jim’s.”

“ What was his name?”

“ Josiah Holcomb. I vowed then that I would
hunt him down and kill him because he at-
tempted to murder my husband.”

6 ‘t‘l 2;” it not possible that he shot him in a fair
t .

8“ He shot him, and that is enough. But the
man disa poured, and I have never seen him
since. I have heard that he is dead.”

It might have been proper for Gray Gordon to
remark 'ust then that death buries all enmities;
but he did not say it. In fact, he raid nothing
at all for some minutes, but gazed abstractedly
at the glass which he had just emptied. Then
he switched off on another subject.

“ So Mark Hannafln is a son of yours. I have
met him.”

“Quite likely, sir, as he spends most of his
time on the river.” ,

“Did you know that he was aboard the Bow—
one. when she burned?”

“ Oh, yes, I knew that.
it?”

“I was on the boat with him.”

“ How did you escape?”

“Simply by leaving the boat‘the n ht before
she was ost. Have you no uneasiness a at your
son?

“ None at all. I am quite sure that be is'
safe.”
“ Where is he now?” ~

“That is more than I can tell you: but he i
all right. -Are you going, then. Mr. Gordon? I
am glad you came. though on have taken a lit-
tle mono from the bank. don’t know‘whv I
have tol' you my sad story, unless it was
cause I was interested in you.” -'

“  was very interesting to me, I assure
you. ' , '. ,

How did you know

 

 

sent,” said 
gal: godonzybest to,get it ofl as speedily aspod- . 

,As a. matter of fact, no such dispatch was  > ,

“ Thank you, and I hope you will not forget to
call here w ien you are in town."

“I surely shall not forget you, Mrs. Hanna-s
fin."

 

CHAPTER XV.
THE HOTEL SHROPSHIRE.

THOUGH Eva Talcott did not at, all fancy the
appearance of the Shropshires or thcir home,
there was clearly nothing for her to do but togo
on with her friends and make herself as com—
fortable as she could undcr the circumstances.

Her bests, although their dress and manners
were rough, indeed, and their speech was calcu-
lated to excite suspicion, might be only poor and
miserable rustics, none the less honest because
of their poverty and ignorance.

It was to be supp0sed, also. that Mark Hanna-
fin, in spite of his previous unpleasant atten-
tions. must mean well toward her, as he had
saved her life at the risk of his own.

Morcover, she was tired and worn out—~so nt-
terly exhausted when she reached the house that
sl.e could go no further, and rest wasan absolute
necessity to her.

So she entered the log house, and was ushered
into a large room which was nearly bare of fur-
niture, conveying the same idea of tempo
habitation that was suggested by the outside of
the establishment.

There she found two poisons, a woman of
sonliewhat elderly appearance and a young
gir .

The woman, coarsely clad and slatternly. had
the snmc look of roughness and ion hncss that
distinguished the male. Shropshires: ut the girl
was different.

She seemed to be a maiden of sixteen, and. al-
though dresscd in a cheap calico gown that had
been cut without any special regard to style or
fit, she was neat and graceful to look at, with a
sweet and comely face that was rendered more
interesting by the shade of sadness that covered
it, and by the mournful gaze of her large brown

0 'es.

)Mark Hannafin, who seemed to be in very good
spirits just then. took upon himsclf the part of
master of ceremonies. and proceeded to make
Eva acquainted with the members of the house-
hold

“ This old gentleman, Miss Talcott.” said he,
is Mr. Enoch Shropshire, generally called Uncle
Enoch, and this is his wife. who is favorably
known in these parts as Aunt Eliza. You are
acquainted with Bob Shropshire, who took us 0!
the sand-bar in his skiff, and this young fellowis
his brother Ben.”

“ There is one other, Mr. Hanuafin,” suggest— ‘

Eva.

" Oh, yes, Linda is the sister of Bob and Ben. ,

She is a good irl, and means well.”

Linda blus ed faintly at this somewhat
equivocal commendation; but she was the only
one of the group to whom Eva gave her hand.

Mark Hannafin explained the cause and man-
ner of the arrival there of himself and Silas
Birch, with the young lady, and “ Aunt nun"
at once tonk, or appeared to take, a motherly
interest in Eva.

“ You look to be all worn out, my dear," said '

she, “ and no wonder, arter what you‘ve been
through. You must go ri ht upsta’rs, and lay
down thar and rest, whi e I take car’o’you:
things and put ’em in shape to w’ar.”

“ shall be glad to do so.” answered Eva;
“but there is one thin that must first beat-
tcndcd to, if possible.
saved my life.”

“ Only helped, Miss Talcott." ‘

“ I want to beg you to increase the obligation“  

under which you ‘haveglaced me.”

“ Whatever I can 0 to please you will be
cheerfully done.” ‘

“ Of course my mother will hear of the burn-

ing of that beat. and I am above all things «3— ‘ g ii?
ions that she should get the news of my safety , .

as soon as possible.”

“ Tell me what to say and how to send it, and '
1 will do my best to get the news to your - ‘

mother.”
“ If I can have a bit of paper, I will write ,8

r dispatch.”

But the Shropshires were anything but lic-
erary, and there was not a scrap of white pa 1
to be found in the house—not as much as meg
leaf of an old book. '

Mark Hannafln had a note-book in his pocket;
but it was so badly soaked with water as tobe

worthless, and some time would be required to ‘ "

drv it.

"‘ I have a very good memory, Miss 'l‘aleo‘d‘,”~ ,

said he. “ Tell me what you wish to say. and
give me the necessary directions, and I will to
sure to remember.”

“I only want to tell her that I ah) alive and '
Eva. and to this she added her. .
mother’s name and address, with the named fib- ~ ‘

well.” answered

telcgm h station nearest to Talcott‘s Land

from w ich the dispatch would be forwarded.
. “ I do not et know how or when this can be

nafln: “but you may rely upon

sent. . ,
rem-hog. the young man’s intentioni‘ m‘

 

 

r. Haunafin, you have .  ‘

    

   

The Old River Sport.

 

 

good, though there may be a doubt on that
int; but it was a long distance from the
hropshire habitation to a telegraph line, and
before he could determine what it would be best
to do in regard to the dispatch. something oc-
currol that upset the arrangementsofull the
pe )plc under that roof.

Eva Talcott, lichvm', could not question the
words or intentions of the man who had saved
her life. and upon whom she must depend for all
the assistance she could hope to get in her time
of trouble.

Believing that she. had done all that it was ‘

possible to do under the cim-nmstam-cs, she.

infully followed “‘ Aunt Eliza " up the ladder-
ike s airs that led to the room which she was to
occupy.

This was a mere garret furnished only with a '

rude bedstead, a husk nattrcss and a scanty
Baptily of bod-clothing. and it would have bee-n

very hot and stuffy, but for an opening at the i

end that let the air in freely.

Mrs. Shropshim directed her guest to take cil’ ‘

her wet clothing givirg heraooarw garment
to wear in the mean lime. -

In removing her dress Eva was careful to
secure the Wlil‘tlfl)‘ k which it containc l, ard

she fancied that her hostess cast a Wolfhh look ‘

at that article.

“All you’ve got to do now, my dear.“ sad
the old Woman, “is jest to lay down and res“.
while I dry your things and fix ’(in. Art: 1' a.
while I‘ll )ring yin up rntlzin’ to cut: but I
reckon you need agoul sleep morc'nanythin’
else ”

Linda Shmnshirc hal silmil.‘ followed her
mother and thogucst 12p to l .c loft. and 5‘30
stood there in the (halfway of (he. {gm-rot room,
her hands crossed bcf< in; hr, and her big brown

eyes wide open as she stared at the fair :ti'an- I

r.

The old woman perceivul her there, and her
eyes snapped wiLh suddcn nix-,1 1'.

‘V’ot you (Ioill’ tii'lr. Lindy i" S-‘Il‘ fl'.‘l'(‘( ly (Ic—
mandcd. “ Nobody told \‘on to come up yet“. ,
cain’t have you standin’ ’roo'nl and botherin’
the lady. Git out, now! I?! I”

With a cry that was like a wail the girl turn~
ed and “mi.

It was evident to Eva that Linda vra': not a

pet in her own family; but. she sail nothing a»: ,
shewas In t able just then to take anylxxly’s .

part—not even lzer own.

“ Aunt Eliza” bundled up her guest‘s wet
clothing and carried it away, nf’a'r a parting ii;-
jnnctiou to kee ) quiet and go to slecp.

Eva was willing enough to obey this injunc-
tion, but feared that she would not be able to.

As for going to bid and keeping quiet, there
was nothing else for her to d i; but she was up-
pressed by so many painful thoughts—grief for
the mysterious loss of her brothers, anxiety con-
cernin, her mother and doubt and perplexity
about .--r own position—that it (.id not seem
posdble for her to lose her senses in sleep.

Nature, however, has her rights, and is bound 4,

to assert them.
The young lady was so com letel overcome
nervous exhaustion. as Wcl as »y fatigue,
t she could not have withstood the pressure

; if she had desired to.

With a. prayer on her lips she fell nslet p, and

 Slept long ahd soundly.

It was dark when she awr~ke, and then she
was aroused by Mrs. Shropshire, who, brought
somesupner and a light. the light being a cup of

grease with a lighted wick swin'ming in it.

The supper was of poor quality, both in ma-

~ tefial and in cookery, beingn'ithmg but baccn

x and corn bread, With

 ‘ ted the old wmuan.
e, ofl’ some’ercs, and mebbe that’s w'ot ’

'  fictions. Eva.Taleott became vcrv restlgss
 shoqu not help‘arlmitJDg that “ Aim
and men the truth.

 \

 

but Eva hnd awoke with an appetite, aul just

,. then that homely food we. as acceptable to her

as the choice viands of the owvna.
i v“ I reckon you’ll do now.” said the old wr‘mnn
is she watched the disappearance of tho victuals.
Indeed there was quite a change in Eva.
Her sleep had refreshed her, and her surpcr
hvi 1 her, and she felt so strong and wc'l,

I » no sound of body and so clear of mind, that tile

to take a lively interest in bLI‘ own

trs.
I “Has Mr. Hanuafln sent oi! my dispatch,
In; Shropshire?" she asked.
“Don’t know nothin’ ‘bcut no dispatcth
“That youer man

he’s gone arter.” \

“ I hone so, indeed, but I weal-l be glad to
know. When can I have my clothes?”

“You won‘t need ’om nl'oro mornin', and
they’ll be ready hen. You‘ve eata pond snp~
per my dear, an all you’ve got to do is to lay
rl ht down and take things easy.”

fiaving settled this point to her own satisfac-

flon. the old woman went away, carrying of! the

fight as well as the dishes.

1

CHAPTER XVI.
‘zv; rmorr‘s mm.
Lin in darkness and solitude to her on row

- bu
Elisa”

d

a mixture that could .
never pass for coffee among ('IVIIIYA‘d Peoplc; -

t 4 your

No matter how great her uneasiness and anx-
iety mi ht be, in her present scarcity of apparel
it was c early impossible for her to make a mm 9
in any direction, and all she could do was to

“ stay put” and endeavor to make the best of p
‘ scrape if Istaid here, and I have got to be a

adverse circumstances.

She was naturally anxious. among other inat-
tcrs, to know whether the, promised message had
been sent to her mother; but there was no way
of findingr that out until Mark Iiannafin should

see fit to give licr the information, and be was 

understood to bc away just then.

She hoped that be was about on her errand,
but was forced to confess to an uneasy feeling
of doubt on that point.

; Sho worried helplessly over these matters, 2

occasionally dropping into a. doze; but her slccp‘
mg moments were more painful than her waking
thoughts, and finally she arose and wcnt t.) the

breathe the night nil‘.

board the voices of neon mmroacbing,r the house,
and spun rccopnizod the s )cnkers as Mark Hun-
nuiiu and his friend Silas irch.

They were evidently carrying on a conversa-
tion which they Wished to keep from the cars of
the Shr(l,‘).‘IllI'l‘-i, as the
l:<,nsi-, but can 0 nroum
d.rectly unrli r 1110 Opening at which the young ,
lad was stationed.

lava wanted tocall to Hannafin and ask him ~

if he had sent her inessagc; but modesty at ifrrt
forbade the nth mpt, and after a while she had
a yut stronger l‘ca on for kccping silcncc.

Though tho two men SIM he in low tones, the
night u as s ) s‘ill. and she listi-m d so imcnfiy,
lizalt she could hear nearly every Word that was
.‘llil .

“ This 1': a queer den that you have brought
us to, Mark," llirch was s yfur. “and it‘s a
(‘uccr lot of hen 4:4 that inhabit it. I don‘t like i
in» links of things here a bit."

"It is the only place We could come to,"i
answerol IZamnii n.

“ That won‘t do, and you lznow it won’t. Tic ‘
n‘igjlit have rot away on that stcrn-whvcl boat if
We had trim ; but you made a point of coming
tothispluce, as you had friends here. Tough
lot of friends, lhoc are.”

“ Better than no friends, though."

“I doubt it. In any ri'six-cfubi" town llicy
‘ would be locked u as vagrants, because they
can show no vi'Ii'n e means if sup )ort. How
(1.: they get their living! Not by arming, as
anybody can see with half an eye. They have
the look of scoundrcls who would kill a. man to
rob him of hall’ a d! illar—allcxcept thqgirl, and
she. seems to be strongly out of place here:
“'hat‘s the matter with her, Marl: 2‘"

“Nothing, as far as I know. IIer folks say
that she hasn‘t got good sense; but perhaps that
is because she Won‘t fall in with their ways.”

“ What are their ways? \l'ays of crmkcdncss,
I’d bet big-h. “'lmt is their special line of ms—
cality! Is it horse-stealing, or are tl‘J‘V mean
enough to come down to sbicp-sicnlz'nf. ’

“Leave those people alone. Eilc, aid don’t
bother your brad about tln m.”

“ I mean to leave them alone as soon as I can,
and I assure you that I Would new r h ‘Vc stirred
astcp from the river-bank wi;h them, if it
hadn’t been for your sake. “'hat are you going
to do with the young lady, Mark?”

“ I am going to marr her, of course.”

“ That is easier said t an done.”

“ It is bound to be done, though, and that is
why I brought hcr here. I am madly in love
with her, Silo, and she has a fine fortune of her
own. too.”

“The fine fortune may excuse the love craze,
é if you are sure of getting it. It is a very good
scheme, Maris, ifit can'bc made to work and I
suppose you know what on mean to 0. OF
course it must‘bo a law nl marriage, or you
miss the fortune. How do you expect to per-
suade the young lady to consent to that?”

“I can’t say exactly. It will depend some»,
what on circumstances. I have the road roach-
ly blaw'd out. but haven‘t brought my plan
down to a fine point yet. have gone in to
“in, Silo, and mean to play the game for all it
is worth.”

“ And you don’t mean to let anythinn' stand
in your light. if you can shove it aside. hat is
, straight business, Mark. Since you have put

 

 

; you have the. game in ynur own hands.”

Mark Hannafln hastened to reSent this im-
putation.

“ What do you mean,” he demanded, “ by
saving that I put her brother out‘of the way?”

“Don't give me anything soft my boy. I
am not fond of in victunls. bo you fancy
that I don‘t know ow you played the game? I
was rather deep in it. myself, as I told you how
to play it. That is all right, Mark, and I only
hope that you may have grit enough to carry
you,through. For my part, I am gomg to slide
out.

“Why so?”

“ You won’t need me, now that you are
amo our friends, and I don’t like the style of

'rfvends a bit.”

 

‘ about that dispatch.

opening at thccnd of the loft, to look out and ,
l

She had been tbcre but a little while when she I

did not go into the l
to the end, stopping.

ber In‘othf‘l‘ out of the way, I suppose you think ,

 

“ They won’t hurt on,” protested Hannafin.
“But something a may. There is no tell-
\ V .

 

ing what may ha pen toaman when he gets
mixed up wi.h such a gang.”

“ I wish you would stay, Sile, and I am sorry
to see you so set against i ‘.”

“ I would be afraid of getting into a serious

little careful of myself, for the sake of some—
body I know. So I shall get an ay from here
in the morning. I presume that you don’t care
to have me carry the nus-sage which Miss Tal~
cott asked you to .«cnd to her mother.”

“ “'el], Silas, I can’t say that I am Worrying-
You know that there‘s no
telegraph office anywhere within reach of I]( re,

1 and perhaps it is not necessary that her mother

shoulil know where she is just now.”

“ You will send ti.o message some time,
though !”

“When the cows come home. I wish I had
nothing to worry me more. than that dIX'S.”

“ Let us go and turn in, then. 1 want to get
a good sleep before. I 'liglit out.”

The two men Went away, unconscious of the
unseen audltcr who had listened to them from
above.

IVhat she had board had overwhelmed Eva
Ta lcott with eonstt rnation.

It had seemed to her that her weight 01’
trouble was as much as she ccnld lcar; but
these revelations pilcd on a fresh and heavy

1 load that. threatened to break her down.

‘When Mark Hannalin declared his 1 urpose of
making her his “'lfC——Of course by foul means,
if fair mcans “‘(;ul(l not wcrk—he confirmed a.
suspicion that bad lately been growing in her
I rcast, and she set ll( rsclf resolutely against it,
determined that it would I70 9. long day before
he should carry that dcsxgu into execution.

The old saying hcld good. that “ anybody can
lcuil a licrsc to water, but nobody can make
him drink.”

“'lu-n it was (bargcd and substantially ad-

3 miticd that linnnailn had “ int hcr broth-r out
i

of the way." .‘lio was greatly i'iKK'kfiI, though
the had not been Without a suspicion on that
score.

But it was reserved for his last statement to
crush her—he lu.d not. sen; t!.e message to her
mother, and had no intenticn of so doing.

Eva crept bark to bcr rude bcd, and seated
herself the re, pressing her hands to her head in
a resolute (ii'c' t to find a way tbrcugh tl‘e nrass
(but fears and apprehensions that crowded upon

tr.

She found bench? in the power of a gang
which was too (Iii-reputal lo and (langucus for
even such a man. as Silas Birch lo m'x v. itb. and
the only person there win in she could call a.
friend was one whose intentions wit 1 regard to
hersclt 'she knew to be absolutely selfish and
cruel. .

Icr brother was lost, the victim of that Iran,
and she had been unable with h( r bcs‘ cticrts to
inform her agonizcd mother cf her safety.

Truly she was dew late indeed, and hrr con-
dition was most piiiable: but. though the pres-
ent was_bad enough, the future promised tote
worse. , .

IV.’ at should she do? \Vhat could she do?

She was startled by a. light step in the. room,
and looking 1: , she saw dimly in the darkncss a
form approaching her; but it was it won an’s
form, and she need have no fear of a wcnran.

A voice came from the form, and, as it was
not the voice of “ Aunt Eliza,” it must i e Linda
who had come to visit her, and that fact tLX'llILd
her with a new hope.

The words of the girl. Cold and strnrge and
full of malice. cruslul that hope instantly.

“ Skeerul you, did I? Well. it ain‘t no won-
der that scch as me should skecr secb as you. I'
don’t know whether I ort to kill you or not.”

This was a. most ominous and unlocked-for
speech, especiallf.’ from such a source. Was the
cirl crazy? or what had prompted her to step in
there with such a. murdcrous mark?

Slight of build and mild c! countenance, she
did not seem to be fitted by nature for desperate
deeds: ‘et she wad one of the Shropshire family,
and blood makes a lad brerd.

Eva. Ta‘cott, to whom these thoughts pre-
sented themselvrs quickly, close to ccnsider the
case one of hazn'lais xrsauity, 9nd bad suflicirnt

resent-e of mind to treat it calmly and sensi-

lv. '

“ Is that you, Linda dear?” she quietly asked.
" Why sdould you want to kill me? I am sure
that 1 have newr dune you an lat-m. Como
and sit down be: c vizh me. and ct us talk about
it. I am very lonesome, and am so glad you
have come.” '

Linda Shropshire was disa rmcd by this kind-
mess and calmness. Her evil irientimm. if file
rcrlly had any, melted away. She scan-d ber-
Self on the bw', and Eva was sure that the beard
sup ressed sol 'r. v

“ ell me all about it,” softly entreated the
young lady. “ M hat is the matter, my deal/r? I
hope have not canscd you any trouble.”

“He said that he was goin’ to marry you,”
nabbed the glrl. ,

Eva’s quick thought comprehened the trouble
at Once. Linda was fond of Mark Hannafln,

and had burned his intentions with regard to '

herself. She hastened to let her-elf right in

“thatqum'ter.

 

~~aw~~ ..
~ I

.- p-.~..r.. .-.Ac~—r~-v. «A

 

‘....<§,:,..,..__7_. .. . . ..

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

. come along and take us out and hang us. Looks

, contingency had been contemplated and calcu-

',‘su'veduan open

The Old River Sport.

 

15

 

“He never shall marry me, Linda, if I can
help it, and I believe 1 can help it. It takes two
to make a bargain, you know.”

“ Don’t you really want to marry him, then?”
joyfully exclaimed the girl.

“Not a bit of it. I would die first. Tell me
all you know about it, my dear, and we will
talk the matter over and think of what we had
better do.”

Linda became quite friendly and confiden-
tial.

“He had gone. away somewhere,” said she,
“and 1 was waitin’ and watchiu’ fur him to
come back, as I wanted to see all I could of '
him. When he come back with that other
man, they stopped around at the end of the
house and had a. talk, and I hid thar and lis-
tened to ’em.”

“ I hcard them too,” responded Eva. “ It was
terrible. Did you hear them say that he had
killed my brother?”

“ I heercd su‘thin’ 0’ that sort, but couldn’t ‘
take it in right, I reckon, because I was so Wor-
rled about other things.”

" Do you think I could marry a man who had
killed my brothch

“ Well, no, it don’t look like you could,” can-
didly admitted Linda. “ But mcbbe you hain’t
got the say about it. He says tuat he means to
marry you anyhow.”

“He shall not marry me, somehow or any-
how.”

' “ But he says he will, and if he does I'll have
you to kill.”

"It u ill be a better plan. my dear—better
than killingLnybody—tohclp lll";fwt away from ‘
here and out of his reach. Vill you help me do
that, Liudz' r”

“\V'ish I could. Vs'hnt do you reckon I
mought do?" l

“ Can’t you gct my clothes for mes”

“Dunno. I kin try.” I

“ I should think it Would be easy f .r you, if '
you know where they are, to 5le down and git
them to-night, while your folks must be
aslee .”

“ es, I kin git ’em, and I will. I’ll go and .
git ’em right now.”

As Linda arose. for this pa 1*, she was ,
startled by, a noise outside, an instantly I'T‘-j
sumcd her place on the bed, snatching at Eva‘s ;
hand.

“Hark!” she whispered.
knew ’twould come!"

CHAPTER XVII.
VICTORY AND RETREAT.

WHAT it was that was coming was at first a
mystery to Eva Talcott, though she felt that it
must be something fearful, as Linda seemed to
dread it so much.

Directly she heard the trampling of horses’
feet. and then it becaincevidentthat horses had
me ped in front of the house.

hen voices were indistinctly heard, and a
shot was fired which was heard very distinctly,
causing Eva to start and Linda. to scream.

The shot was doubtless intended as a ball, but
it was not needed in that way, for the Shrop-
shires down stairs, being quite as acute of hear-
ing as Linda, if not a ittle more so, had also
heard the horses, and were instantly on the
alert. ,

To use the expression current in that region,
they were wide awake and full of fleas.

“Uncle EnOch” Shropshire, without opening
the door, and speaking through a crack in the
shutter, answered the hail, and asked the late
arrivals wlht they wanted.

“ We want on, dog-on you l” sternly replied
the leader of t 1e partv outsxde. “ \Ve want the
hull darned batch of you I” ,

“ You ain’t goin’ to git us in any sech way as
that. W’ot you want us fur?”

. “ You know Well enough what We want you
fur. Come out o’ thar, you infernal boss-thieves,
or we’ll fetch you out in a way that’ll hurt

"it

This warlike talk was plainly heard by the
two trembling girls upstairs, and was equally
terrif ing to both of them.

“Tl’iat man calls your father a horse-thief,”
whi ‘red Eva. .

“ as, that’s so.” answered Linda. "‘ Dad’s
a boss-thief, and Bob’s a boss-thief and so is
Ben, and I reckon maw an me are hoes-thieves
too. I’ve been waitin’ and leokin’ fur ’em to

 

“ lt‘s a-comin' l I

 

like they mean to do it now.”

The only consolation that Eva Talcott could
find in this new complication was the. thought
that she and Linda could not ' ly be mis-
taken for horse-thieves, and tha in the general
Overturning of things she might be freed from
the unpleasant environment of Mark Hannafin
and the Shropshims.

The  tough citizens, however, had
something to do as well as something to say in
the matter, and they proceeded to get in their
Work in a style which showed that this precise

ted on.
When Eva Talcott entered the house she had

 

seen a number of barrels, apparently full. stand-

ing in the space between the two buildings that enough; but I’d a darned
ball; but she naturally did had it to do.”

not imagine the use to which it was intended to
put them.

The purpose of their presence there was
speedily made plain after the presumed Regu-
lators rode up.

Those wide—awake Shropshires sallied ant into
the hall, and there, under cover of the darkness,
they silently and swiftly moved the barrels so
that they formed an excellent barricade at each
end, with spaces to fire through if necessary.

Mark Hannafin and Silas Birch, when they
heard the intent and meaning of this nocturnal
visitation, were deeply disgusted—es ~cially the
latter—-~.vith the turn their affairs ad taken;
but their disgust was increased when they Were
called upon to aid in defense of the den.

“That Won’t do, Uncle Enoch,” replied Mark.
“ You can’t expect us to mix up in this sort of
thing.”

“ You'd better do it, though,” rejoined the
elder Shro ishire. “ You’re in the same boat
that we’re in, and thar’s only one way to git
out o’ the scrape. "Way goes you’re gal, unless
you turn in and help us.”

“ We’ve got nothing to fight with,” grumbled
Mark.

“ Thar’s guns right afore your eyeS, and
they’re loaded, too.”

Hannnfin reluctantly took a rifle and the posi—
tion that was assigned to him; but Birch stub-
bornly declared that he Would rather die right
there than have anything to do with the busi-
ness.

Having finished their fortification in very
short order, the Shropshires wcro ready for ac-
tion.

The Regulators, as they would probably have
styled themselves, seemed to number cight or
ten men, and they appca red to be hitching,r their
horses out of the way, preparatory to leginning

l work in earnest.

Enoch Shropshire hailed them and warned
them off.

“ You had better cl’nr out, you durncd nightr
hawksl Thar ain’t no hoes-i icves ycr, and if
you fool around us you’ll soon know who is go-
in’ to git hurt.”

“ Come out o’ thar, or we’ll fetch you out!”
was the fierce reply.

A brief silence ensued during which the out-
siders were supposed to be getting ready for the
onset.

“Will you
mandz‘d.

Enoch Shropshire replied that he Would first
see them all in a place of exceeding hotness, and
the business began.

First there came a shot from the outlying tim-
ber. and then a scattering volley, doubtless in-
tended to draw the fire of the besieged, or to de-
termine whether they really meant to resist.

The were not to be bamboozled. however.
thong they caused it to be plainly understood
that they Were alive and dan erous.

Under the directions of “ ncle Enoch” they
fired a few shots in the direction of the flashes
outside. but fired slowly and at their leisure,
satisfied that they were not exposing themselves
to any danger.

It was alrcad evident to their aesailants that
they held the a vantage in this way, and, cftcr
another and closer volley that sent bullets
plumping into the barrels, a rush was made
from the timber.

The rush was what the Shropshires had been
expecting and were 1 repured for. ’

It was made toward the front of the house
only, the assailants showing no strategy worth
speaking of in the attack, and there it was met
by a resolute and effective defense.

“ Aunt Eliza," who proved herself a good
enough man for the emergency. had added her-
self at the first alarm to the fightin , force, and,
with the unwilling aid of Mark annafin, the
Shropshircs were quite equal to the work they
had to do. -

Rule" and pistols blazed from brlnnd the bar-
rels, and sent forth their deadly Contents so
swiftly and viciouslyihat the rush stopped when
it had scarcelv got a fair start.

The fight was the-n practically over, for it was
evident that the assailants had suffered too se-
verely to care to renew the contest.

One of them at least had been hit, as they
could be seen huddled together as if carrying
0t! some person who had been killed or wound-
ed, and there was no more firing from their

Slde. , .

The Shropshires, acting on the principle of
building a golden bridge for a flying enemy,
considerately let them alone.

Their leader finally hailed the house from a
safe distance.

“ We’ll come back here again, you darned
scoundrels, and then we’ll clean out this nest and
make an end of you l”

No attention was paid to this threat, as it was
certain that the threateners were going away,
this fact being made evident «by the sounds of
their retreating horses, and afterward by Ben,
who made a scout into the timber and found no
trace of them remainin .

“ Good riddance~ to rubbish l” exclaimed
“ Uncle Enoch.” “We brushed ’em away easy

sight rather ha’

surrender?” their leader de-

“ The same here,” observed Mark. “ I would

¢ not be mixed up in such a scrape as that again

l
l
I
I
l

 

for any money.”

“ 1 can’t blame you, Mr. Hannafin, as I sorter
feel the same way myself. For all I know,
those may be good men who came bcrc, and I
don’t want to hurt ’em or put’cm to any trouble.
So I shall fix things so that the difficulty won't
occur ag’in.”

“ What will you do?” inquired Mark.

“Jest light out 0’ ycre, and lct these cusses
w histle fur us when they come ag’in.”

" Where will you go to?”

“ I know a good place and a safe place—whar
they won‘t think 0’ lookin’ fur us, and couldn‘t
git us if they should find us.”

“ “in you take me and the oung lady 5"

“ Sart’in if you say so. 'ou stick to me,
Mr. Hannafin, and I’ll stick to you, and I reckon
you’ll find out that your Uncle Enoch will do to
tie to. Jest leave the hull business to me, my
boy, and I'll bring you out all right.”

The two girls up-siairs had heard nothing of
the cmn‘crsntion below, beyond a confused mur-
mur of voices, as the attack and the firing had
lrightcned them so that they were afraid to 
from their )osition on the bed.

Shortly they were a l].'I‘l7.€d of the determina-
tion of their hosts ly the arrival of " Aunt
Eli/a,” who brought up Eva‘s clothing and the
gourd lamp.

“ You may put on your things, miss,” said
she, “and git ready as soon as you want to.
You’re goin‘ away from ycre.”

" I am willing to stay here,” answered the
young lady. “ I have no wish to go aw ay."

“ You‘re goin’, though, all the same. “'hy,
Lindy, w‘ot on airlh air you doin’ up yere?
“he told you you mought come up yere?
You’re gittin’ to be the sneakin’est crittur I
know of, as well as the ornaricst. Cl’ar on
you durncd no ’count {ml-headed snip, afore
smash you!”

Linda did not wait to be smashed, but
sknrried away and almost tumbled down the
ladder. i

It was more than ever evident that she was
not a favorite in her own family.

The old woman followed her daughter. with-31

out paying any attention to Eva’s, protests and
lemonstrances.

Left to l crself. the ycnng lady considered as.
calmly as she could the quz‘: tion of what she had I
bcttcr do, and came to the conclusion that it
would be easicr as well as safer to obey orders,
as she would be forced to dose if she should yen“
ture to refuse.

At all events she was glad to get her clothing,

and was willing enou'rh to dress h( rself,.as she '

would thus be cnabl to take advantage of any
chance in her favor that might arise.

Her clothes were dry, thou b they
felt the touch of an iron, and s was painfully
aware of the fact that there was not a kit of
style about them; but they were a covering and
a sufficient protection from the weather at that.
time and place. \

She felt more hke herself when she was attiyed
in her own garments, and did not. hesitate to
look and listen at what was going on below, while
she remained up-siairs and w aited for further de—
velopments.

Nothing of any special interest reached her

ears, and the developments came soon eating-I‘ll,”V ‘

Mrs. Shmpshire called to her after a w ’
and she descended the ladder and found the
f amin ready to start.

From some in sterious hiding- lace near  

Bob and Ben ha brou"ht severa
probable that in the

horses—it as
tcb were some of those

whose losslad arouse] the wrath of the Re - 5 -‘

lators—and they were saddled and ready'for
road. . ’

Two of them that carried side-saddleswemin- ' ‘

tended for Eva TJlCOEi} and Mrs. Shropshire; 9.

rtan‘s saddle being (*onsidcrrd good enough fora 

Linda, and another was loaded with such .provie

sions rnd “ plundu‘” as the Shropshircs chose to - I

take away.
“No horse

animal that had born provided for him.

“ “'hnt do you mean, Silo?” demanded  ‘
‘_ You surely can’t expect to go 

Hannailn.
7’

“ W’ell, I believe that what traveling I havetb ,.'.i

do can be done afoot. I am not going your way,._

you see.
“ VJth way are you gain , then?” I
“Just going to try to wor my way back
civilizaticn. Without meaning any ' act
to present company I must say that this '
of' thing is not at all in my line of bus' and

I for to slide out and get where I belch ”' - ' l

h Shro; shire was disturde by this
tion and he wh' red eagerly to Eark.
“ shall we let t feller o! Is it same
“ Quite safe, old man.

he Will not help us, you may be sure that he

do nothing to hurt us.” - 
“ Goal-by, Mark, andgood luck to you!”  

Birch‘s parting salutntion.  , ‘
“ by, file, and try to takfcare of your-

As Bimhhad gone off at his own will
without qumtion, it seemed

toEvathat.

had not '

“A

 

for me, if you please,” observed .‘.
Silas Birch when his attcntion was called to file.

to.

ever mind  

 

 

 

 

,, V ~ I! . , I. I. ' '. ‘ f . ' « i '3 V I x ' V,‘ 4 » V x. " ILA
; y I  ‘ , > i . ‘ , . _ . ( _ | . ’1 I ' : 
' ' T O ' ' ' ‘ i 
.‘ 4 ' I — , i; a
1 6 he. 1d River Sport. , , 
‘. .. .. .- 1‘“ ._.. .. ._. 1... . i _- ., _.. . .. . ._._.-__. . \ «i
ii . . . . . . ‘ . I 53'
fr might be u r-huncc for her to assert hcr indc— as it is getting lutc, I must start at once to l who had been a passenger on the Ill—fated -
; pendence and chum a. right to do the sumo; but lind and cngugo a couple of men.” Rowena, and they were duly sympathizcd with
, i r when she made the cll‘ort she found hcrsclt’ “ But why will we need them!" by tho captain and crew.

. , crush ;.l by tho Shl‘opsliil‘cs and cajoiod by Mark
‘1; ‘ Hunualin.

‘- The cnjoling had no effect upon hcr, u“. the
. did not believe 0. word thc young mun wild; but
 it was clear to hcr thnt she must go willineg or
ii ’1 by force, and therefore she submitted as patient-
 l y as she could.

 

.l, I CIIALPTE l XVIII.

 , STARTING THE SEARCH.

 - AS Gray Gordon, after leaving Mrs. Hanna-
. fin’s place, walked toward the hotel where he
 was to moot (a‘rcrnld Tnlcott. ho sccmcd to bc
3:; _ rather mopish, walking 9.1 only and with his hcad

,down, and musing as if he had cut-ountercd a
problem that bothered him.

There was sadness mixed with his musing, too.
and it was evident that the widow’s chmnpagnc
had not had an exhilarating elf-act upon him.

He found (-lornld at the hotel, and tho young
man was innnediutcly struck by the (lowncast
appcaranco of his old friend.

“What is the matter, Mr. Gordon.” he ha}:-
tened to ask. “It cannot be that you have
failed to get the money.”

“ No indeed. I
had not a bit of troublo about it. I wi 11 that;
everything: before us was as Lung," as tha".”

.‘ “ There is sonicthing that Worric.; you, I am
sure.”

“ No Worry of my own, anyhow. Thcro nrzy
be a little of other pcoplc’s worry that hm;
caught out.) me likc. burrs when you go through

‘ the husl’m. There arc many (111(‘(‘1'tlllllj_f.‘i in thi:
world, (-icrulrl. and it is unaccountable how
” they turn up when they nro loant cxpcctod.”
‘“ What have you been running foul of

» 1 now?”

f “ I have hard a strange story which I may
i tell you some llll‘), and om itcin which I lirivo
picked up may be nonnwhu‘. surm'ising to you.

Vh‘) do you think that old moonshincr is, who
h‘DlpC'll the flutboutmcn rob 115;”
, “ I think I know what [1: i:, and that ii

enough for 12w.” ,

V "‘ I beliovul‘hat ho is tho father of Mark Finn-

nafin. tho mam who dumped you into t'u) .‘Iie 3.3:»,-

nippi.” .
' “ The deuce he is! ~iii—cl], I Mllonlalix"i1 wanzncr.

Thor must be a. bad crowd all ar'.>‘..lull.”

“Not so very bad, perhaps. ’i'he old moon-
s'iiner, who is probably not near us old or. he
..  ‘15 to ho. is not, in my opinion, cntircly right
in his mind.” .
“Ho wusfismart enough to stri) us of our

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 

t
2
I

 

property. ut his unmois Pulpitllr. ('rordon.
Colonel Rapp is what they call him O'v'll'

there.” I
“ Yes, that is one of tho peculiarities of tho

 

got tho moncy all right, and '

“ Wcll, Gcrald, thcl‘e is no telling what may
turn up, and it is Wcll to be prcpm‘cd. Of
course, though we don’t like to inlk about it
weure bolh suspicions of Mul'kiHunnalin, am
it is possible that We may have to do a good
deal of searching. I am afraid that the young
man means mischicf, bccuuse it f‘N‘lnS 10 mo
that he might, if he had tricd, have l)l'nllf.','llii
your Sister away on the steamboat that went
to tho rcscno of tho Rawma. that is. supposing,r it
to bc trnc that 110 and she wcro the parties seen
on the sand—bar.”

" I have thought so, too.” added Gerald.

“ If he (1015i moan mischief, he has gone ashore
thcre i1 n‘ n pllt‘posc, and we may have tronch to
find him and more troublc after we find him.
It is b-st to be prepared as well as we can for
any diiliculrics that may m'isn.”

“You are right, Mr. Gordon. us you always
urc. But where will we find the mcn’."7

In :1 city like Memphis it was of course casy
to hiro men for such a. service: but the trouble

‘ with mo.;t ofthcin was thnt thcy woro cithcr

loril'crs; or otherwise unlittcd fortho purporc,
:2n:l('n,>rdon was obliged to admit ilu'thodid
not know where to luyhis hunduon tho right
sort.

It was his idea. howavcr, that. ho could fall ,
v hock on Hank liycrs. whose lllfl'll‘lllatlhn and

:idvico had alrcady provcd to be  inn-resting
and mri'yiccablc, and he and (lcralil sallicd forth
in ncarch of Hank.

Thcy found him without much difiicu ly, and
(‘vordon cxpluincd to him what nun wnnlcd,
without going into dctuils ('om'crninfz the ob-
;iul t of the employment or tho use to which the
llH‘Il mirtht possibly be put.

“ I think I know what you 1ncan,"mid Byers.
“ You supposc that you are going to find a
routgh style of Americunr: over thcro, and it is
quite likely that you may.”

“1V0. have already had some cxpcricncc in
that line," observed (-Irordon, " and that is how I
hup wood to be short of money.”

“‘1 men, A burnt child dreads the fire. Come
with inc, thcn, and in u little while I will find a
cotiplo of tough c'itizcns who will suit you.”

“ Not too tough,” suggested Gordon, “ but
just tonzrh enough, as they are to be our com-
puuions.”

"Junt Como along and be your pick.”

Hunk Byers, who was thoroughly acquainted
with the city, led the way to a saloon—of course
to u Silhu‘m, us the rmnns of the Y. M. C. A. did
not contain the article' required—where he had
0111' to look about him to lind men who were
bot willing; and eager to rink their lives if no
ccssary for the sake of adventure and a few
dollars.

Gordon, who considered himself 0. {good judge

‘30.

._N

 

[and stared at the little steamboat and

()n the passage Gerald had cu idea which he
connnunicntcd to his old irscnu as they mt on
the hurricane (lock, looking}; down the rivcr.

“ There is one thing that we forgot to uttcnd
to, Mr. Gordon,” said hc.

“ What is that. Geralth

“ If we are likcly to have something of a
scorch, as you think may be the ruse, and if the.
country is as unsettled as we found it when we
swam ashore, we ought to have N311“.- provisions
in a shape that we can use.”

“ ’l hat is already attended to, my boy. I have
made arrangements with the cook of this craft,
and also, I may add, with the bnrkce-pcr, and
we will have plenty of provisions, Solid and
liquid.”

“ In due course of time—that is to say, shortly
after noon—the littlc Uhicot rounded to on the
wostcrn shore of the rivcr, a short distance be—
low the remains of the Rowcnu.

She was obliged to feel her way carefully
throth the water at tho lowcr (-nd cf the sand-
bar. but being of vcry light draught and ac-
custonicd to wizrkingovcr shoals. she rcnchcd the
bunk, and lundcd there the tenrching party and
their bclongfn‘rs.

The landing of a steamboat ll1(‘TC-(’V n so
small a. craft us the Chicot—was quite an cwnt,
m: wnsprovcd by the arrival at the hunk. of a
man of dccidcdly backwoodsy appearance. with
a boy and girl of the same. stri' 0, who l-I.('0(l
the
strangcrs. '

To thcso natives, as soon as the Chicot hadlci’t
tho shore, Gordon npplicd iol‘ information, say-
ing that he and his friends \\ crc looking for three
people, who were snpposcd to havecscz pod from
the burning Rowena and to have come whore
from the sand-bar.

“ The man was most doprcssingly ignorant, as
wcll as stupid. but was quite willing to state
fully all that he did not know. '

“ I'was off in the. woods,” he said. “ u-lockin’
fur a. stray heifer whcn that stcambout burnt:
but Tom and Myry was ycr, and I reckon they
scold w’ot was to be scold.” ,

“ Tom and Myry,” who sccmed to [:0 too oh-
tnse to have ever taken hold of any facts and
kept them in their recollection, came out finely
on this Occasion. . ~

“ VIC was standin’ yer a—watchin‘ the steam-
bont burn,” said Tom, “ along With old man
Shropshire and Bob and Ben. Thar was a wo-
man and two men on the bar, and Bob Shrop—
shire he got a skiff down into the water. and
rowed ovcr thar and fetched ’cm ai-horc. They
was orful wet, and artcr a while they went ofi‘
with the Shropshire folks.” 1

An attcmpt to get a description of the rcscucd
parties did not elicit much mattcr of interest

in- _-.W...'-.4-J. .....:f.. A.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

from Tom; but Myry, being a girl, was able to-
give a fair idca of the young lady’s clothes. and
from this Gerald Talcott decided that she was
his sister. .

“ thcre did they-go to?” inquired Gordon.

“ To Enoch Sbro shirc’s place, I rcckcn.

of human nature, 51x3cdily 0110110 from thosc who
were olliercd to him a. couple of men who, as ho
lwlicvcd, would suit his purpose, and made a
bargain with them.

One of them was ,Jerry Mubry, an Arkansan

who happened to be 513.12,!qu in Memphis, and

case. As I understand it, an injury to his bond

"has caused him to forget his fornn-r lii’c, includ-

', in his family and his name. But we are not

if , li ely to run across tho man again, Gerald, and

we need not worry about him. I hope you

’ r- Were not lonesome while I was away. my boy,”
J

.225  ‘ '

' ‘ ..o.”'.,«-..J}v:?' 

p “ Lonesome? Not I. I have been too usy to
‘1 = 'be lonesome.”
' “ What have. you been doing?”

“The firstfithing I did was to send my mother
. » ,anogher dispatch, telling,r her that I have reason
 to» ope that Eva. is alive. Then, fooling sum
that you/would at the money you went after, I
' * attended to the usiness of securing: translwrtzx-

ticn for us to the wreck of tho Rowmu.”

, . “ That was thoughtful. How did you suc-
 ceed?” ,
. ‘ “ I found a little stern-wheel boat that runsmp
w]: ‘a. small stream somewhere below b we, and the
J ’ captain agreed to start ahead of his time, as
. [earl in the morning as possible, and to land us
. t at t 6 spot we wish to reach.”
' ‘ “ That was well done, Gerald.”
, “0! cont 6 I promissed to pay him wcll, re-
_' lying on you to back up in" bargain. It is a.
 .strange thing, Mr. Gordon, 1; t I find myself so
 Willing to accept money from you, leavmg you
2. to pay the expenm of his business. Of course
Z’ I expect to settle the pecuniary obligation but
 ,it‘is not that/which makes me 1'ch cosy. I sup-
, ', p058 it must be the way you have about on that
v. {causes this sort of thing to uenm natura to me.”

“I amglad. then, that I have that way, an

* all want you to trust me and rely upon me.”
‘. j“ Yet it is strange,” lnslslxxl Gerald, “ that I
 abould so easin give myself up to the guidance
apof a. compact ve stranger.”
 '“ I don’t censider myself even a comparative
'ttrauger to you now. You must remember that
, Mil/have. got acquainted vc‘ry rapidly since we
.. ;‘ met on the Rowena..\ Circumstances sometimes
 r" throw people together insuch a shape that the
r ","'“gnip more kn0wlcdgc of march other in a “mi;
. While thanyeurs of common acquaintance would
it 13110 them. But that is all right, Gerald-tho

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
  

 

rif ., '- »' , is good with me, and. an. matter of fact, it is
 ’ _._ Mrs. Hannafln who is paying our expenses this
 J’ fibrin; Since vou have been attending: to busi-

 

»” inesd‘sowell, there is only one thing left that we

todo;
“ What is thantlr?” ’

4 .

4 . a

 

"9.3;, . may‘bussincss and the rest of it. Your credit .

 

“I fancy that we will'need some help, and,

who was evidently “'(‘ll acquainted With the
western side of tho riv 

The other was Ernst Krautz, r1 Gcrmun who
announced himself .us a mum‘ocr of a “Turn
Vcrein” and a. “Schuctnon Corps,” and as the
rxfisessor of a “ yager” that w. s uncquulml for
accurate shooting.

Both of these men, being entirely unattached,
were ready to start at once, and Gordon took
them away with him, ul'tcr thanking Hank
Byers: for his valuable services.

“ That iimkos somethiniimoro that I owe you,
Mr. Byers,” said he, “ am I hope to be able to
settle up with yqubefore long.’

“ You have already paid me right wall,”
answered Byers. “ I made a. decent little pile
by taking: your advice and following your lead
to-ni'rht.” .

“ nd you might have made more if you had
caught on smncr. But that did not y any-
thing of what I owed you. We arobot. m'catly
obliged to you. Hunk Byers, and that must pass
for partial payment.”

It was not ncccssu for Gordon to stop at
the hotel and pay the ills of himself and his:
friend, as lhcy had no baggage, and had been
politely requested to pay in advance for what
thcy had got.

80 he and Gerald, with their two allies, went
down to the levee and boarded the little stern-
whool crnf t, and settled themselves to sleep for
the remainder of, the night.

" The captain of tho “ fly-up—thp-creck,” which
was known as thc Chicot, had no idea of or. try-
ing out to the lettcr the bargain that he had
made with Gerald Talcott, and might have re-
malnodat the Memphis lcveo all day, but Gray
Gordon, who was up and out at daybreak.
roused him from his birth, and had a. serious
conversation with him. , .

As a result, of that itliscussion, with which the
current money of the lnitcd States was not al-
tozetlscr unconnected. the ohicot got up steam
at an early hour in the morning, and left the
landing at the dawn of day. ,

, It was umlersuiiod on the little boat that" the
party of four were goinfito search ,for a lady

\.

I _ " .

 

 

They.\ all went toget or, and they started off
that way.” _

The romise of pay induced Tom to guide the
:zcarclnng rty to Enoch Shropshirc’s place.
though he eclared that he would not accompany
them to, the house, but Would take them within
sight of it and leave them there.

Myra and her father were gratified with mum
of the coin of tho rcpublic, and Gordon and Tom
led the way into the woods.

CHAPTER XIX.
RUDELY 4110153351).

THE boy’s reluctance to go to the Shro shire
place necessarily wanted the curiosity o Ger-
don and his friends, who plied him with queso
tions, cndoavoring to extract from him some
information concerning the Shifipshire‘s: but_
3113 was little enough that they co (1 get out of”

om. ' '

ll‘hatevor other qualities he might lack, he
knew how to hold his tong-ac, and guarded his
speech as carefully as if he had been instruct-
ed in the art. ‘ ‘ -

“You must be afraid of Enoch Shropshire
and his folks,” observed Gordon.

“ I reckon I ain’t.”

“What is the muttcr. thch Why won’t on \
tell us anything about them. Are they a ad
crowd?” .

“ I dunno. I’ve heard talk goin’ around. but ‘
I don’t take much notice 0’ talk.”

As nothing more was to be got out of the
boy, the party were obliged to be satisfied»
with his guidance to the Shropshire liousé,‘
which he pointed out to them when they came
within sight of it, and hurried away as soon '
23 he received the myth-at had beenypromised '

1m. ' . .
is reluctance and reticence had of coum
ar used strong suspicions in the mindsqu- the
party, and they approached the Shropshirees- ,
tablishment With the feeling;' that they mustbe' ‘
on their guard» against some dun _ r which they
could not estimate or understan .‘

“ I ‘am afraid, Gerald,” said Gordon. “that
young Hannafin means mischief, and that be

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is tryingr to get your sister away from her
friends, instead of taking her to them. From
what we have heard so far, he seems to have
been on good terms with those Shropshires,
and thorn can hardly be a diuibt that they are
a bad crowd."

" So it is a good thing,” answered Gerald.
“ that we came prepared for trouble.”

“1 only hope that we may be stitliciently prc-
p'ire'l. We must be on our guard at cvcrystcp,
and it will be best to approach iliis placca little
cautiously.”

They did approach it cautiously, and Jerry
Mabry. whose lungs were of leather, hailed
the house from a safe distance; but, there was
no response to the bail.

As it was then near the close of day, it was
deemed neccssary to push prim-ceilings.

Again and again the house was boiled. and
still there was no answer. and no sign of life
was visible about the place.

“ I reckon tlizir ain’t nobodv in tbar," remark-
ed Jerry Mabry. “ I’ll go and see.”

The entire party moved cautiously toward
the house, the Arkansan in the lead. and it
soon became evident; that the establishment
was deserted, and the question then was, what
had become of tho occupants!

Though the cmpty rooms were scantily fur—
nished, there were evidences of recent occupation.
but a thorough search failed to (leV‘clop any
signs from which the pl‘(‘S(’ll(‘0 there of Eva 'i‘zil-
cott or Mark Hannailu might be conjectured.

“ Perhaps this is not the place they came to,”
suggested Gcralul, when he and his em )loyer had
descended from the loft to thiopcn hall.

“I have no doubt that they came here,” an-
swered Gordon; " but why they should havelcft
here—that is. why the entire party should have
cleared Out—passes my comprehension.”

“ Some people, whom we must suppose to be
the Shropshire family, had surely lain living
here,” said Gerald.

“ Yes, and what has become of them? If they
had remained, we might presume, and it would
be ea. to ascertain the fact, that young Hanna-
fln an his partner had taken your sister to some

int from which she could easily reach her
Friends or communicate with them. But thcy
have all gone away together, and it is hard to
guess what that means.”

Ernst Kreutz, who had been making a search
of the establishment on his own account, called
the attention of the others to a number of bar-
rels that were scattered carelessly about in the
open hall, nearly blocking up the passage at each
end.

An examination showed that the barrels were
filled with earth, and  was deemed a suspi-
cious circumstance, especially as a closer inspec-
tion disclosed holes in the barrels which were
decided to have hem made by bullets.

“ There has been a fight here,” said Jerry
Mabry. ,

“ No doubt of that,” declared Gordon, “and I
wish we knew who had been fight' , what the

, fight was about, and what the resu t of it was.

These barrels filled with carth can have been pix-
pared and placed licl‘e only for one purixmo.

‘hey must have been intended for use as 3. art -
(ication, and that proves that the people who
lived here must have had enemies, lawful or
otherwise, against whom they were obliged to
fortify the place. As a result of the fight the
house is deserted; but whether the occupants
have been captured, or have morer decamped,
is the mystery of the matter, and there don’t
seem to be anybody in the neighborhood who is
able or willing to Solve that mystery. ”

“ Then we must go to work and solve it for
ourselves,” suggested Gerald. “Our friend, Ma-
bry, who knows the country and the ways of the
people here, will be able to put us on the track,
and we ought to push forward and follow them
up as fast as we can.” - .

" We can do nothing to-mght.” answered Gor-
don. “ Even if Jerry should be able to pick out
the right trail in the darkness, we could not at-
tempt to follow it before dayli ht.”

This opinion was confirmed y the Arkansan,
and it was settled that the party should pass the

, night at the Shropshire house, and makeas early

5. start as possible the next morning. ‘ ‘
So they had their supper, using the prowsmns

which they had brought from the Chicot. banked

down as comfortably as they could, and waited

for. the morning. _
It must have been about midnight when they

“v were aroused b ashot outside, followed by a
' hail, and speedi y they were up and ready for

business, taking hold of the new emergency as
well as they might. .

“ Hello, there!” shouted Grdy Gordon, Jump-
ingup and answering the hail as soon as he could.
“ What’s the matter!” .

“ You know what‘s the matter. Come out o’
thar, you darned hoes-thieves! You cain’t
worr us a ‘in as you did last night.”

“ here a no horse-thieves here!” he yelled
in reply; but a volley of riflo bullets admonished

, him to take in his head and keep it, within cover.

 

“ What do you mean?" he cried. “ Let us
know what the trouble is, and we will straighten
it u .”

. "gfou can’t fool us ag‘in as you did last night.
Wg’ve got you surrounded this time, and weJ

‘

  

The01d_.Riief._-Sp9rt-

mean business from the word go. Come out o’

thar and surrender, or We’ll turn loose and clean

out the hull den.” .
Gordon consulted hastily with his friends.

he “ and our best chance is to give in and try to
convince them that they have got hold of the
wrong,r crowd.”

“ liello!” he shouted then.
want us to do?”

“,Jcst come out o’ thar and give yourselvcs
up. ’

“ That is what we want to do, and glad of the
chance. But you have made a mistake, my
friends. “'0 are not the men you are looking
for.”

" Come out and show yourselves, then, and we
will settle that darned suddcn.”

“All right, but we want to be sure that no
more mistakes will be made. Start a fire out
{here}, so that you can have a liglt to see us

ly. M

This was a reasonable request. but there was a
little. delay before it was answered, as the leader
seemed to be consulting with his followers and
giving orders.

Shortly he hailcd the house again.

“Hello, there! “’e’ll start a iirc. But you’d
bettcr come straight out and not try any gum
games. \Vc’ro fixcd for you to-niglit, and you’d
better not play roots on us.”

Gordon again assured them of the good inten-
tions of himself and his friends, and a bright
fire was started in the clear space bethen the
timber and the house.

Leaving their weapons in the house—with the
exception of their revolvers, which wurc retaincd
furl a possible emergency—the four men sallicd
forth and approached the fire.

They were met by a strong force of men, all
well armed and with their riiics ready for ini-
uiediato busiuch; but their attitude changed
when thcy perceived the wcaponlcas and peace»
l‘ul style of the four men who came from the
house.

Gray Gordon, as usual. was the spokesmen of

“that do you

’the four, and he stepped forward briskly and

boldly.

“ I hope that you will have the kindness to tell
me What this means,” said he. “'0 are
strangrrs here, and we feel sure that some mis-
take has been made. I may say, too, that we
are glad to nicet you and have a chance to ex-
plain matters.”

The men about 1 be fire surrounded the men from
the house, and scrutinized them closely as they
came forward, but seemed to be disappointed, if
not disgusted by what they found.

“ These folks ain‘t no Shropshires,” observed
one of them. ,

“ That’s‘so ” responded the leader, who gave
his name as be Lassitcr. “ Who are you, men,
and how did you git here?”

“ That is the very thing,” declarcd Gordon,
" which wo want to explain. I suppose we are
looking tor the same men whom you are hunt-

in .” .

filo proceeded to relate the business that had
broug t himself and, his friends there, and told
, how, havin found the Shropshire house desert-
ed, they h decided to remain there until morn-
ing, when they expected to begin a search for
the missing occupants.

The meetin was adjourned to\ the house,
where Gordon s statements as far as concerned
that establishment, were fully confirmed.

Abe Lassiter expressed it as his opinion that
the strangers were “all right,” and went on to
make a statement concernin the Shropshircs
zvhicp was decidedly uncomp imentary to that

arm .

“T ey’ro the worst set of boss-thieves,” said
he, “that we have struck in these parts fora
long time; but it is only lately that we have
found ’cm out and lit down on ’em. We made
up a party yesterday, and came here last night
to give the cusses what they deserved; but they
were ready for‘us, and they fought us ofl’, hurt-
ing one of our men right badly. These bar‘ls
of dirt tell the story.”

“ We had noticed the barrels,” said Gordon,
“ and had come to the conclusion that there had
been some such a fight as you speak of. We
sh pused that they had uit the house after the
fig it, and that the best t ing we could do would
be to stay here until morning and try to get on
their trail.”

“ Well, Mr. Gordon, it’s a‘ fact that you came
darned nigh getting the dose that we had fixed
up for the howthiQVes. We got some more
men, and came here tonight to clean ’cm out,
you see. and if you hadn't stepped forward just
as you did, youd, ha’ caught it hot and heavy,

ause we wasn t in the humor to stand any
sort 0’ nonsense.” ‘

“If you are satisfied that we are all right,”
observed Gerald Talcott, “and as we all are
hunting the same p90 1e, 1 hope that we may
Ssknyou to help us to o'what we came here to

O. .

“That’s the int,” broke in Gordon, “and
that is why I to (1 you that we were so glad to
meet you. The young'lady that I told you of is
this young man’s sister, and ' you know that We

 

can’t bear to havesher in such a, crowd as that. ’

I
I
.
i

l
l
l
I
l

“Those men out there mean business.” said i

from them, and if money is any object to ,
you—”

“ Drop that!” exclaimed Lassitcr. “ “'liat do
you take us for, anyhow? If we can do any-
thing to help a lady that’s in trouble. you may

'bet your solid life that .we don’t “ant any

 

Help us to follow them up and get her away

 

money for it.
are hunting the same crowd.
together.”

" 'lhat suits us exactly, and we want to make
the hunt as short and sharp as possible.”

“You will find us with you there, Mr. Gor-
don: but you had hit it off right on one point.
lVe can’t do anything afore moi ning. and we
must just try to be content and wait till then.”

CHAPTER XX.
SEEKING CLEws.

THE Shropshire house was full of lodgers dur-
irg the. remainder of the night; but ihi y had
not much time for sleep. as at daybreak every-
body was astii‘ and out, anxious to begin the
search for the abscouding Shropshircs and their
willing and unwilling companions. ,

“’hile the men from across the river were
caier to find and rescue the lost young lady, the
Ar ansans wanted to hurry u and punish the
horse-thieves who had given 1 )Clll such a bar
time, adding insult to injury by sneaking awn
after driving off and seriously damaging their
assailants. .

While Gray Gordon went with the Arkansuns
to leak for the trail, Gerald Talcott remained in
the house to seek by the daylight for Si me 
of his sister‘s presence lhci‘c. ,

The others were scattered about in various
errands and occupations, quite a delegation at- -' 1;
tending to the preparation of breakfast for the , -‘. ~
combined party. . '_~

Gerald’s search came to nothing, as he could .
not discover anywhere about the house any
scrap or si m to prove to him that Eva had been
there, and 1e soon cht out to join those who
wore picking up the trail.

Their search had been casily made successful,
as it was no trouble to find and to follow the
plain traces left by the fugitive Shropshires,
and the Arkansans were then busy in guessing
whither the trail led and where it would end. 4 ,

Though at first this was mere matter of guess;
work, points were gradually picked up that
aided conjecture and brought the party ncarer ‘
to definite conclusions.

“It is sart’in that the rascals are the boss-
thievcs we’ve been huntin’,” said one of the Ar—
kansans. “ I’ve found the tracks of my roan 
mar’, which I know ’em well because a shoe was ' " 
missin’ from the nigh hind foot.” ' -

"' Thar’s no doubt of that, Dentry," answered
long Abe Lassitcr, “ and thar’s no doubt that
we can pick up that trail and follcr it as long as
it sticks to dry land. But we canr‘t afford to
fuller it all over these United States, and they've I‘
got a good start, and I’d be glad to have some ‘ %
sort of a notion about whar they’re likely to
bring up.”

Upon this question the combined intellect "
and experience of tho Arkansans were concen-
trated, with the more or less valuable assistance ~
of Jerry Mabry. _

It was to thrm an important question, as they .,
would be loth to leave their farms and families ‘
for an indefinite time, even to devote them- '
selves to the praisewort-hy pursuit of hunting ‘
horsethieves, and they were naturally anxious 2.,
to know whither the pursuit would be likely to f, '*
lead them. ' ?

Point after point was gradually picked upras '
has been said, and, by patching together bits of 
information concerning the haunts and habits; .-__
of the Shropshires with the direction of that;
trail, the nature of the country into which it ,
led, and some other little personal or public do ‘
tailis, one neral conclusion was finally reached "
an to. , v .
“ They’ve gone due north,” was the way Abe
Lassiter put it. “They know just whar they .,
are going to and they won‘t stop afore they‘m
crossed t a Missouri line.” . . *~

Not that the crossing of the Missouri liner; .
amounted to anything to the Regulators than:~
present, as Judge Lynch, when be real! means
to get his work in, never bothers himse f about
requisitions or State lines, finding a “jury’og- '
the vicinage ” always ready to execute hide '
if he can prove his case. I .

But the impression prevailed that the Sb ‘7
shires had friends ovor the border, with [3%
ablya haunt of their own and that tbeybadi
gone thither because they believed that 
would be safe in that quarter. / r .1

This view of the case naturally made the '*
Arkansanségel a little diggiious, as tgeivwre not
anxious to again' us into a t agaimt’ ' ‘ ‘2
an sort of odds or afivantafis. g ,1;

e sacred duty of cute ng 
however, was not to be shirked, if its execution .
was within the limit of reasonable posibility,
and the men of Arkansas were so far from~
being disposed to shirk it, that they‘wero 

what they w '

Then. again. as yin say, “e
60 let's hunt

 

A

 

 

anxious to get a clear idea. of

have to do. . . 
«Having justice on their sidef’li lacking the. a
law, they had a right to demand that the 

ofaflghtshouldbealsoontheirside.  _ .
Thequ then were, who Werethe 
s t - 

  

  

 

l
i.

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18

 

‘ The Old River Sport.

 

 

shires’ supposed friends up yonder, and where
was their supposed haunt?

“ I reckon I can settle both of them p'ints,”
observed Jerry Mabry, who had lately been lis-
tening to the statements and opinions of the
others without putting in a word of his own.

“ If you can do that, Jerry,” eagerly declared
Gordon “you are the right man in the right
place. So jump right in and settle them.”

“Well, gentlemen all,” began Jerry, with a
certain slowness and hesitation, evidently not
caused by modesty, “ I must say that I’ve had

i
i1 - cause to know somethin’ about hoss-stealin’ in
i
i

these parts, along with some other little matters
that may be more or less in that line. I don‘t
mean to say that I ever stole a boss—”
“ Oh, no! no! no!” was the general chorus that
interrupted the speaker.
“ Of course you never stole a horse, Jerry,”
. chimed in Gray Gordon.
stolen a horse, nobody here would care a straw
about it now. All we want to know about you
is whether you can show us how to lay our
hands on some men who are known to have
been stealing horses. If you will do that, you
shall be counted as good as gold and as pure as

iving it to him right, colonel,”
observed Abe ssiter, "and We’ll all stick up
to that talk.”
“ Well, gentlemen all.” began Jcrry again,
“bein’s we ain’t here to do any argui’yin’ about
outside p’ints that ain’t strictly business, 1 must
say that thar’s one place in these parts whar a
, hoss that’s been slipped up onto is might apt to
a ' bring no, either by way of a friendly ca 1, or to
"I " sto aw do. That place is jest over the border,
an the man who runs it is an old moonshiner

\ who goes by the name of Colonel Rapp.”
, , Gray Gordon and Gerald 'I‘a'.cott started and
f' stared at each other, but said nothing at the

‘moment, and their agitation was not observed '

by the others.

To Gordon it must have seemed strange that
this Colonel Rapp, or whatever his name might
be, was continually cropping up, and that all
roads ap ared to lead to him.

_‘ ‘i ‘ “I’ve card of that man,” observed Abe Las-

siter, “and I reckon we all know more or less
. about him. \It is a great, pity that he should mix

«5 ‘ up hose-stealin’ with honest business.”
 It may be proper to state the fact that the
manufacture of surreptitious and untaxed whis-
ky, commonly styled moonshininp', although not

,3 - A "regarded as an honest business by the Govern-

  
 

w‘: - meat, was held in

ood rexpute by most of the
pee le in the neigh rho< s where it was car-
riefon, and the moonshiners Were 100de up to
as heroes and public benefactors.
. ; . Horse-stealing, howeVer, offended not the
y. . statute law alone, but the universal law, and
" was utterly abominable by the general consent
 of mankind. _
I To join the functions of moonshinmg and
' . horse-stealing was scarcely less than sacrilege in
. Arkansas.
Jerry Mabry protested rather feeny in favor
 ’. of Colonel Rapp.
‘, V I ' “It don’t seem to be sca’cel right to go as fur
as. that, Mr. Lassiter. He on’t mix up boss-
“ stealin’ with business; leastwise, he don’t steal
 ' no bosses as I ever heard of.”
 “ A sort of receiver of stolen horses,” suggest-
,”  ed Gordon. I '
H  ‘ “Maybe somethin’ in that line.
do bring upsthar. as I said afore.”
i, A *“ This is the ’int, then. Mr. Mabry,” remark-
' "HIMSSIWI‘.
. the business, they’ve got a den u
/ nlikely to be a tough one to tac le.
'* know
give us a fair show at the gun i’“
5 !‘ Seems as if I ought to.» I ow the ins and
- " some of it right well. i
e . “ I know something about it, too,” observed
, Gray Gordon, and this quiet remark drew upon
him the general gaze accompanied by a running
I fire of ejaculations of astonishment.
 " Yes, gentlemen, I have been there,” he re-
s , kponded—I“ I and my young friend Talcott—and
‘ 'little experience cost me something. I was
' bed thermof quite a. pile of money. Not
‘llhat I blame Colonel Rapp for that affair, so
 “:much as I blame certain parties who appeared
”' to be particular friends of his, and it was they
:who ' the money,” ‘
, '9 2“ e are going? on now party fast,” remark-
5 halter, “a I don’t see anything to hin-
t,  er. a: from finding those rascals and striking
\  “ on let us start right out and strike them,”
Gordon.

.2!  All right, colonel; but we can’t go too fast.
. Grnh’s the first thing to be ’tended to. and for
, yep folks there’s something more to be done.”

  "‘ What is that?”

V“You will havetoget houses. This’isnosort

of tram job, Mr. Gordonz and youcan’t

{Marvell ‘ g to pub the trip without crit-

' No doubt this was megbuttheoontingm

1

The bosses

“ f hoss-stealin’ is mixed up with
thar that’s

was one n which Gordon had not coun ,
 m t of the fact to upset him.
‘4 I suppose on are t, r. halter,” he

,' y
.rudlvanswend;“but, woneerthmwe

“ If you ever had , ‘
g by the mercantile craft were whisky in all sorts

Do you,
b of that den to put us onto it and

 

 

 

“ That is just what I am going to look after
right away,” replied Lassiter as he started up
and entered into a hasty consultation with some
of'his companions.

The consultation was not ended when the
party were informed that their breakfast was
read , and just then a couple of stragglers who
had ccn down to the river arrived with an in-
teresting announcement.

 

CHAPTER XXI.
RIGHT BACKED BY MIGHT.

THE news that was brought up from the
river was not only interesting to the Arkansans,
but was regarded by them as a matter of actual
importance.

It was to the effect that a flatboat of the’
“storeboat” variety had lately landed down
there, and that the “goods” to be disposed of

of packages.

Though a general whisky famine was scarce-
ly possible in an Arkansas district, yet in isolat—
ed communities, owing to sparsenoss of settle-
ment and difficulty of communication, the sup- '
ply was sometimes known to run low or even to
give out entirely, and such occasions were re— ;
garded as public calamities.

One of them had struck the region from which
Abe Lassiter and his levies had come, and they
had consequently been obliged to leave their 1
homes with an insu flicicnt sup )ly of the fluid
which most of them regarde as one of the
necessaries of lifc.

To this destitution had been partially due the
hesitation about proceeding further with the ex- ‘
pedition.

The arrival of a storeboat loaded wiih whisky,
hoWever, instantly put a new face on the affair,
arousing fresh enthusiasm, and inspiring them
with renewed confidence.

All they then had to do was to go down to the
river and secure such a supply of solace and in~
vigoration as would carry them whooping

The news gave them excellent appetites, and“
the hastened to demolish the breakfast that ;
hm been pre ared for them. t

To Gray rdon the news was also good news,
not only on account of its effect upon his allies, :
but because he instantly jumped to a conclu-j
sion which was soon proved to be correct.

A little questioning convinced him that he;
knew the flatboat which had arrived, and that 
{Its owners Were the Genders who had victimized I

on.

As a further delay was rendered inevitable by 
the necessity of procuring horses, he proposed l
to himself that he should take advantage of the
opportunity and get even with the rascals who '
had robbc him. !

While his companions ate voraciously, he gave 3
them an outline of the robbery, without going ‘
too far into previous details, and declared that '
the two Gonders on the whisky-boat Were the
men who had got his mono , to say nothing of
the shameful treatment he received at their
hands. .

“ All I want,” said he, “is a chance to get
even with those sneaking scoundrels. I don’t
want anfi help, and I will promise not to inter- i
fere wit an, business you may have with 5
them, as I don t expect to get my work in until I
that is over. Give me a chance, and let me .
alone—that’s all.” i

The Arkansans easily admitted that this was ;
a reasonable request, and that he ought to have
his chance. ;

“Just one thing more.” he added. “When
we are down there at the flatboat, you must
none of you SpC-ak to me or even mention my
name, as I don’t want those scalawags to know
me until I am ready to spring myself on
them.”

“Seems to me that they Willibe apt to know i
you, colonel without any help from us,” sug-
gested Abe assiter. ' "

“ Indeed they won’t. Let me run my own
end of the show, and I will guarantee that.”

Gordon went up—stairs in the house, and ‘ ro
his clothing brought out a few “fakem nts’
which be bad procured in Memphis. '

The were simple but effective.

Wit a reddish wig and a heard of the same
hue, Well fitted and deftly applied, his appear-
ance was so completely transformed that his
Companions did not recognize him when he re-
turned to them. \ ~

“You’ll do, Mr. Gordon,” remarked Lassiter.
“ I reckon you can be truser to play your own
1game. and now all who want to may go down to i

he river and liquor up.”

“ th you, Gerald,” ordered Gordon. “These
Genders would spot you at once, and you Will '
have to stay here out of the way.”

Talcott promised to do so; but he spoke quiet- (
ly to Mabry and the German, requestin them I

i

 

to watch his friend and be readyWo back im if
he should need backing.
Ta‘lvogzlt “35.1”??? All? mil” “‘1 973.1“ i
o are, e on re pa - t-‘
mflydown to the river to maple theftGOntilerI
w . .
When theycamein’light ottho fldtbost it!
medalibwt a glance to assure‘Gray Gwquf

» , u ,

   

the identity of the craft, and further proof was
furnished by the presence of the Gondcl‘s, father
and mother and son, all looking just as mean

i and malignant and “or’nary ” and sneaking as

when be last saw them.

They were overjoyed by the early arrival of
a delegation of citizens—especially such a large
and thirsty delegation as this proved to be, and
business began with them so briskly that they
were justified in anticipating a large income.

The Arkansans, hastening to sample the liquor
that was offered them, were rejoiced at discov-
ering that it was neither Cincinnati red-eye nor
Louisville blue-ruin—noxious compounds shipped

‘ in vast quantities for the purpose of cmpt ing

the southern pocket and destroying the sout era

. stomach—but genuine moonshine from a secret

and home-bred still, unquestionably the pure
juice of the corn, and not much the worse for
its rawness.

The business of filling flasks proceeded rapid~
1y, Israel and his mother working with a will,
while the old man madechange and watched the
proceedings with avariciom cycs.

This was an unexpected big bonanza for him,
and be blessed the impulse that had led him to
run his craft in there near the wreck of the
Rowena. '

When the rush of business began to slacken,
his attention was claimed by Gray Gordon. who
had been sampling the liquor with the l'i'st. ap-
parcntly devoting himself to it with a vigor that
promised speedy intoxication.

Gordon sure] looked like a. wild man from the
mountains, an it was evident to him that none
of the Gonders had suspected his identity.

“ Look-a—here, old man,” he said. catching the

1 older Israel by the shirt-sleeve, “don't none 0’
‘ you folks never play no sort 0’ games with

kce'irds‘i” .

“Mebbe we do, a leetle, sometimes,” admitted '
Israel.

“ That 5 what I‘m huntin’, old pard. I’ve got
whole boodlcs of money, and am just achin’ to

‘ find some man who thin s be can beat me out of
through the campaign. i it "

“ll’cll, I dunno ’bout that. I don’t purtend
to be much on kccards; but now and then I like
to play a bit of seven-up.”

« ‘ Seven-up ain’t my strongholt, old man," ob-
served Gordon. “ Poker’s what takes me
what I liVe every time. But I’ve got money as
says that I‘m hard to beat at seven-up, all the
same.”

This was just what old Israel Gender wanted.
He consideml himself an adept at his favorite
game of seven-u ), or all-fours, or old sledge, or
whatever anybody chose to style it, and a con-
siderable portion of his profits along the shores

i of the Mississippi was secured‘ by his skill in

fleecing the natives at that game.

He had ocular demonstration of the fact that
the red-headed Arkansan was well surpliewaith
money, and his appearance and manner indicated
an easy victim. .

Why, then, should not Mr. Israel Gondtrtake
this wild man of the woods into camp and de-
spoil him of his propert ?

This was just what r.
posed to do.

He produced a. greasy deck of cards at first,
but brought out a. new pack at Gordon‘s request,
and the two antagonists seated themselves at a
table near the door. v

A detailed description of the game as it was
begun and continued might possibly be instruc-r
tive; but it would be much too lengthy, and at
the‘same time the most careful description of
the game could not possibly include its intrica-
cies and its true inwardness. /

Therefore only iii/general idea of its style and
result; can be given. b ‘

n is native towns i , and amen the 18
along the bank of the r‘ivers whomghe supgollbd
With Whisky. cld Israel Gender may have an
success at seven-up; but he had surely never

Israel Gender pro-

' played the game on the Pacific Coast, where

everything of the kind found its highest develop-
ment and was worked for allit was worth.

Gray Gordon had been there, and the style in
which he proved himself a master of the game
wals enough to make old Israel’s hair stand on
em .

The trumps, the court cards, the ten-spots and
the jacks were alwa just where he. wanted
them, and no matter ow good a hand his oppo-
ncnt might hold, he never failed to have one
that Cmfld just bent it.

It did not take long to satisfy the old man as
well as to astonish him, and when he had got
enough he threw down his cards and declared
his intenion of quitting; 1,

He had not lost muc , thoulz‘ha deal more
than he had wanted to lose. and t e prospect of
Gordon’s getting his money back by Winning it
from the old flatboahnan appeared to be moraine
to be worth considering.

That, hotrever. was not Gordon’s idea. ~

He had no time to spare for such a campaign

as that and the cards were merely an ianfi

tion to his real intention. W

By this time the game had become the center s
of attraction to all inside of the flatbed; and
those who had athered near the table to

watch it we}? young V

former staring at thestyle in which the old man

r f y

el and his mother, the -‘

 

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‘Thgoid River Sport.

19

 

 

was “ wound up.” and the latter obviously pleas-
ed when her husband decided to drop out.

“ So you are going to quit, are you?” sneered
Gordon.

“ Yes, I’m going to quit.”

“ Got enough, have you?”

" Yes, I've got enough."

"But I am not going to quit, asI have not
got enough. I have just begun, and I have not
got what I came here for yet.”

“ I don’t see how you‘re goin’ to git anythin’
more, out 0' me.”

“ But you “’111 see, if you open your eyes.”

Old Israel opened his eyes wide when a cock-
ed revolver was leveled at ,
stunt Gordon astonished : him still more by
quickly removing his hat and red wig anal
beard.

" You know me now?” he sharply demande
“Of course you do. I am one of the men you
roboed the other day, and my friend is not far
from here. Do you know what I ve come
hero for, now! Do you see how I mean to get it .”

The means were entirely too visible to old
Israel, who was overwhehned with consterna—
tion; but, there were two of his tribe behinl
him, and young Israel and his mother looked as
if they meditaied mischief.

Gray Gordon and his revolver were enough
for the entire tribe, as by a slight turn 0 IMO
wrist he could cover either of them. “ Lo ,4;
out. there!” he ordered. “ If you stir a finger,
olzl man, or if your cub or that old cat stirs, ex-
cept just as I give the order, it‘s sure and sud-
den death. It is as much as I can do, anyhow,
to keep from suiting you all down as you sit
there, and you had lwtlcl‘ not agg nce.”

“ What do you want us to do?" whined old
Israel.

“ I want you to hand over the money that you
took from me and my friend, and to be quick
about it.”‘

The flatboatman was seized by the idea of
making an appeal to the crowd.

"Are you goin’ to stand this, gentlemen i" he
inquired, as if they were collectively being im-
p030d upon. “ Herels a man who means to rob
me, and I want to know if you’re coin’ to stand
thar and see it done. Ain’t thar no sort 0’ law
about yer?”

“’I‘htir’s just this sort of law, stranger," au-
swered Je.ry Mabry. “The man has told us
that you robbed him, and we allow that he spoke
the truth. Wedon’t mean to bender him in col-
lectin’ what’s his due.”

There was nothing to be got in that quarter,
and no hope of assistance from yomg Is: )1 or
the old woman.

“ How much is it?” granted old Israel.

Gordon named a sum.

“ ’Twarn’t so much as that.”

“ That don’t miss it much. It’s near enough.”

“ I didn’t git the half of it. Colonel Rapp, he
got the moat.”

“ Don’t lie, Israel. There is nothing so misbe-
coming to a man of your years as a he. Colonel
Rapp may be bad enough in his way; but you
are the cuss that hived my cash, and it is you
who must restore it to me. If you don‘t happen
to have that amount of money in your pocket,
tell your cub or the old woman to get it and
count it out here on the table. And you had
better do it pretty dnrned quick, as I am getting
nervous, and this gun mig it go off.”

There seemed to be no way out of the scrape,
and the old flatboatman submitted, directing his
son to get the mono .

Young Israel dou tless considered this as his
opportunity, to judge by the eagernez~'s with
which he got away from the eye of Gray
Gordon; but there was more than one eye to
watch him. .

He hastened behind the counter to the money
drawers-not to get the, money, but to get a re-
vol ver that was concealed there.

Hardly had he touched that much-desired
weapon, when he heard a g’uttural whisper, and,
looking up. he saw Ernst Kreutz bending over
him with something: wicked in his hand.

The German ordered him in plain enounh
English to drop that gun, and he did dropit,
taking a. roll of bills in its stead.

He slouclied back to the table, and ave the
roll of bills to his father, who slowly ant gloom-
ily counted out to Gordon the sum demanded.

Young Israel and his mother watched the
operation with looks which, if looks could avail,
would have annihilated the man who had en-

forced the restitution of the stolen funds.
‘- . Gordon pocketed the bills, and arcse, but was

in no hurry to diet his revolver.

“That is al ,” said be. "It is not all that
0 lith done; but I have got my money back,
an I am satisfied. Now, you miserable. sneak-
ing, sconndrelly scalawa , I advise you to get
on of the business of re )bing strangers, or you
may not come off as essy as you have this
time. Em: had better get away from here
retty s ddenly, too, as I might happen to come

ack, and if 1 should come back and find you
here, this conca-n of yours would be where the
ho was after he had left the burning deck.”

‘9 backed out at the open door of the flat-
boat, gradually followed by those whorhad come
with him. and leaving the Gonderfamfl
with somw, if not with remorse.

im, and the next in- l

E the. fact that she

 

CHAPTER XXII.
INTO THE WILDERNESS.

To use a coarse but quite apposite expression,
the moonlight flitting from the Shropshii 6
house was very “ rough on” poor Eva Talcott.

Not that she objected to leaving that place,
but the cause and manner of the leaving Were
highly objectionable.

She did not know whither or for what pur-
pOse she washeng taken away, and it naturally
seemed to her that every step was carrying her
further awn y from the possibility of meeting
her i'rirntls or communicating with them.

One link that connected her with her life be-
fore the destruction of the Rowena had been
broken by the abrn t departure of Silas Birch.

It was trno that s c was unable to regard him
as a friend, though he had assisted in saving her
life; yet he was in every respect far preferable to
the Sixro‘ischires, and when he was gone she
could not help feeling that she had lost some-
thing.

There was just a little bit of consolation in
ad gained a friend, though
such a weak and sad-colorcd friend as r Lin-
da Shropshire would hardly seem to worth
counting.

Yet sympathy always has its value. and. suf-
ferers always know how to appreciate it.
Though not a tonic, it serves as a soothing mix-
turc.

Another serious difficulty was found in her
physical condition.

Grief at the loss of her brother, the. perils of
the burning steamer, the exhaustingr struggle
for life, the painful tramp through the Woods,
and an insufficiency of food and rest, combined
with present and Continuing anxieties to shattt r
this delicately-raised younglady, who had never
been accustomed to any hardships.

Yet she could not suffer herself to be shaftcr—
ed, as she would thereby lose her last hope, and
therefore she bore up as bravely as she Could,
determined to do her best under the cruel (ir-
cumstances, to carefully husband her strength,
and to hop her wits wide awake so as to take
gxlvantago of any chance that might arise in her

aver.

There was some comfort in being allowed to
ride with Linda, and yet Eva was not at all dis-
pleased when Mark Hannafin separated himself
from the Shropshires and showed a. disposition
to travel at her side for a while.

She had something to say to him. and was 91-
so curious to discover what he had to any for
himself—what he would explain, and what he
would promise.

For his part it seemed to be more difficult for
him to decide what he should say than what he
should do. ,

Though noted for glibness of tongue and suf-
ficiency of check, his assurance failed him a:
this time, and words were wanting.

He was above all “things anxious to avoid of-
fendin her, and at the same time he could only
reach Is ends by acting in opposition to he?
wishes.

. “ ti) ho hesitated and worked around the sub-
ject before he found himself able to say anv-
thing to the purpose. "

“It is very unfortunate, Miss Tnlcott, that
we should be driven off in this stvlc,” he ob-
served: -

“It is all very unfortunate for me,” she an-
swered quietly.

“ I hope you will believe, Miss Talcott, that I
am trying to do my best for your safety and
comfort.”

“I 11019 on are, sir, but must be permitted
to say t a I cannot find much ground fer the
hope. I do not see why I should go away with
these people. It seems to me that by staying
near the river I would be better able to reach
my friends or to hear from them.” 7

This was what was bothering Hannafln. as
he knew that she was right and that he would
find it no easy matt r to justify himself to her.

“ There’s no pi 6 there that’s [it to stay in,”
helmuttered. '

“ A poor place is better than none, and I
would have been obliged to stay there long, as a
search is sure to be made for me.”

“ The few peOple who could he found in that
region are a very had set, Miss Talcott, and
there was really no place to o to.”

“ Mr. Birch was not afrau 'to separate him-
self from these pen lo and go back, though he
was uite alone an unarmed."

“ ile Birch, Miss Talcott, is one of the most
reckless follows in the world. It would bejust
like him to start to swim,thc river or to do some
rash deed of that sort and just like him to
escape with his life. e is a good swimmer,
you know, as' ou must have noticed that when
we were in water—better than I am, I
think.” ._ .

This was obviously an attempt to change the
subject, and at the same time to remind the
young lady of the part Hannafin had bomein

there were other things'tn considered.
oug not fol-
low thatvhe was entitled to claim or '~

saving her life. - .
She wasnot at all likelyeto forest that;but
in he had saved her life, it did
“I am afraid,” .she said “tmt‘in
aboutubad Wyn;  “he 

     

  

    

find, even in this region. But what must be
must be, and I only hope that I may soon 11 ach
a place where I may be able to Communicate
With my friends. By the way, Mr. Bannetin, I
have been anxious to meet you and ask 511: if
you have sent off the message which 3 cu 1 um-
ised to forward to my mother."

“Dear me, Miss Talcotll That has been quite
impossible, as you must know. “'e are far
from any telegraph limb—might almost as u ell
be in the interior of Africa—and 1 othing could
be done at night. I intended fencing Btn -
Shropshire off with it the first thing in He
morning; but this trouble has come up and
knocked everything in the head.”

“ Could be not take. it now?" suggested Eva.

“ His father tells me that he can't spare him
at present. But you may he sure, Miss 'I‘alcott
that I am lookin out for you, and that 1 will
do everything tha can be done. Your message
shall go as soon as possible.”

“ I lropo that it will go—bef ore the cows come
home.”

This simple statement seemed to startle Mark
Hannaflu and upset his equilibrium, as he flush- .
cd and then turned pale, at the same time dart- ..
in'r at Eva a. swift, suspicious glance.

Ile had lately used that expression. and he re-
membered it well. Vi'as it possmle that the Lad
overheard him?

She was looking at him so blandly and inno-
ccn‘ly that his suspicions were (Risa) med. »

“That’s a. queer way to talk,” he muttered, 
“ and I don’t know what you mean by it. As I '
mid, I will do n' y best.” 

"Of course you will. and you will make 31— '
Iowance for my anxiety and impatience. I am
so unused to trouble. and so much of it has  .,’
come to me so quickly. Do you ieall “believe, ‘
lair. [Tarn'ifim that my brother was ki ed?" '_ “'35”

“ This was another shock for the young gam-
bler. -

“ Killed l” he exclaimed. “ Why, who would
have killed him?” I ,7;

“ Nobody, I hope. People are killed withcut V
being killed by other, people. Do you really , 
believe that he was drowned, or killed in any
way?”

“You know as much about that as I do, “
Miss Talcott. I sup )Ot'c he must have fallen
overboard. No don t it was an accident,
whatever happened to him. It is very sadu
Excuse me, Miss Talcott, as I believe 1hat Mr.
Shropshire wants to see nre.” I

Enoch Shrorpshi re did not want to see the young
man, and that statement was merely apretezt. »
for the purpose of esoaging from a cmnvcrsafion
which had taken an em arraming tmn. . " 

Eva was not sorry at his retreat, for she. had I
on! y been experimenting with him, and bad a -.

, fr:an as far as she cared to go in that line of en-
l Cr. nvcr, as she had no wish to anger him or to
l 2 ' 'e or: y suspicions that mightprove inconven-

ic-rt. ,
l “ E ow handsome he is!” murmured Linda ' I
Shropshire as he rode away. .p. A '

Eva had been unable to perceive any beauty ‘ ~-
in Mark Hannafln'; but it was evident that .
Linda loved him, and the poor girl was to be

iticd.

p “fiandsome is as handsome does.” she an- K
men-d, “and I hope that he will not act un-
handsonicly.” ,

“ I am afraid that you have made him mad,
Miss Talcctt.” _ v

“If I have, he will soc-n get over it, and you
will ‘ave him here again.” , , ’ A”

The young lady gave no more thcupht‘tohim » ‘
at the time, but devoted herself to noticing the ‘
country through which they were riding. ,. .

As the night was dark, there was little to be. .-
learned from such an inspection, and but little
more from questioning Linda fibrops‘hire, oaths ‘
girl. though ddubtless well acquainted With the ..-
country in patches, did not seem to have the.‘
faculty of making her knowledge available. -

They were riding continuously through a for?“
est—a “forest primeval ”—.-the tall 
lechroad and other characteristics shmving’i‘t
to be an extensive tract of bottm—landqu. .
route leading near the foot of the blnfls. ‘ .  J

This land was doubtless ova-floured in'high: .,
water times, and ocea- sionally sinks and doughy,
were encountered, to avoid which the party...
Were compelled to make act-ms. . i ' ‘

It was a punk: to Eva that they should keep-
down there on the low ground, where there,
were nohuman habitatinns worth mentioning, .
instead of ascending the bluff to the
country, where theyneed not travel very , r7
without finding houses and settlements. , ’~ M

The solution of the enigma, she was‘nfruid,‘
would be found in the factthat human humus
“(ions were just-wizat the party wanted m was“. ‘»
After daybreak theth to rest and“ _
their breakfast which was prepaid hymns, ~
Shropshire and Linda after  
ed wood for a me. ~

 

   
 
 
 
  
 
  
   
  
    
   
 
 
 
 
   
    
 
   
  
  
  
 
    
   
   
  
   
 

 

 

 

Itwasavaryponrbreakfiut 
pendant! Eva pretended toen‘ itasabe ’
sued to stray . striving “Into
somebints of the probable outcome of 

fin 'mdo a; . “Mp”
Hark g to  , '

fmmflie '

Honda,
clonsfliatmighthavearlsen

“4‘
/

20, _ '

she made when they last met and in this she
succeeded so well that when the line of march
was again taken up he rode at her side.

She was quite safe in trusting him thus far,
as the presence of Linda Shropshire was a
restraint upon ill-i love-making tendencies, and
nothing could be plainer than the fact that Linda
wzr; zealously watching him in the tear that
he. would betray a fondness for her companion.

Eva encouraged him to talk, in the hope that
from his speech she might glean something of
his own intentions or those of the people with
whom he was connected; but she learned little
beyond the statement that the Shropshires were
gomg to visit some friends of theirs, and that
‘  ’ from the journey’s end she herself would proba-

bly soon be able to communicate with her
friends.
So they traveled during the greater part of
the day. and the shades of owning were de—
‘. sccnding when the actions as Well as the words
, of her conductors assured Eva Talcott that they
-* , were nearing their destination.

CHAPTER XXIII.
, A BIG REVELATION.
, AS they ascended a narrow pass in the steep
» ' bluff, the young lady was startled by a sharp
, and a almost savage hail which brought the
*r' ‘ party to a sudden standstill.
 The difficulty, however, was soon adjusted
. _ ter the a pearance of an armed man with
/ whom Enoc Shropshire seemed to be well ac—
quainted, and they rode on.

 

on there could be in a free and peaceable land,

/ where travelers were challenged by armed so: -

, tries, and the peop’e who were found there ap-

1?’ peared'to be on a war footing.

A  She asked Linda, but Linda could not tell her,
and Mark Hannahn had gone to the advance
,with Enoch Shropshire.

They halted at last in a hollow where there

r V ,‘were two log shanties, and where several men

1%,}, :1 had assembled to welcome or inspect them.

  It secured at the start to be more of an in-

Spection than a welcome, as an elderly man

who appeared to be at the head of affairs was

disputing quite. fiercely ,with Enoch Shropshire,
and the others were awaiting the termination
of the dispute before showing their guests any
courtesy.

. This difficulty, also, was soon adjusted, and

a 7. , Eva. and Linda, with Mrs. Shro shire, Were ale

‘, ._ ' 4 lowed to dismount and entered t 9 big shanty.

 

The trouble had been mainly about the horses, ,

though the Whole business seemed to be objec-
tions. ble to the elderly man, who was addressed
as Colonel Rap .
.. “ I tell you,"Enoch Shropshire,” he earnestly
, , declared, “that I have been mixed up in your
' ' .crookedness too much already and I don’t want
" any mo‘reyof it. I have hard enough work as
«it is to make an honest living here and keep the
.' infernal revenue officers from ettin a grip on
_ ' me, and you know that I couli n’t ho (1 my own
y a day without the sympathy of the people about
here. How do you suppose they would sym—
pathize with me if they had reason to suspect
me of being mixed up with a horse-stealin
, gang? They would sympathize a rope aroun
’» '- my neck, and no blame to them.”
 ’ “You/won’t git mixed up in this businem,
 colonel,” answered Enoch Shropshire. “ Not
, abit of that. Nobody would ever guess that
.. ,wohave come here, and we mean to run the
1 rs OK as soon as possible. anyhow.”
‘ “ See that you do, then. :I always have trou-

 ., ble enough on in hands without being bothered,

byan‘ything in t 1: line.”

,4 As ‘olonel R13?) turned away his attention
 claimed by ark nnafln.

.- “ You haven’t for otten me, I hope,” observed
‘that young man. ‘ Surely you remember me,
copier, I d Y 1 k

 ' suppose 0. es, now
,enou What’s the name, now?
' 3f“ annafin—Mark Hanna .”
.» 3.“ Of course it is. Funny name that. Sounds

your face well

 Irish, though it’s not Irish. You are -

the son of that lady who was so good to me
whoa I was sick and in trouble. How did you
 get here, anyhow?”

i“,I am taking care of the young lady who
came here With the Shropshires. lVe were on
"the steamer Rowena when she burned, and I
" saved the young lady’s life by swimming ashore
with her-.1. v

“Seems like you have drifted a long dis-
tance away from the shore and I don’t know
.1 why (In: slicilild havgo come erg: l d ,

‘ “ cone want marry 1: you a y. '
2' . ,“»Well  she is willin , I don’t riiiiid. She
w .',dohlt look like a fool, bu there’s no telling.

 

 may have little enou h‘ sense to marry
' you, for all I know. But

gr} ,

am neither a par-
non nor a justice of the peace, and I can’t per-
 the ceremony.” , .
; “Of course not. 'I was not thinking of any-
gigg in that line. But, she is a big heiress
e]. and perhaps you can help me,” insis
annafln. "
'g -“ i am willing to do anything that is .fair
Wright; but what do you think I can do?”
‘ “‘ ,her stay here and rest awhile, and we

 

, ’Eva naturally wondered what kind of goings ,

  

The, 919-31%: $993140

 

“Of course she may stay here and rest. No
. horse-stealing business mixed up with that.
' 'Who is she, and where is she from '1”

i “She is from Louisiana, and her name is
‘ Eva Talcott.”

“ And you say that she was on the Rowena?”

“ Yes, sir.” I

“All right, young man. As you are the
son of that lady who was so good to me, and
whose kindness I shall never be able to repay,
I will do anything for you that I can fairly
and s uarely do. tun along now. I see that
Bob S ropshire wants you.”

Left to himself, Colonel Rapp was evidently
worried about somethin .

He. frowned, rubbed Ehis head and his eyes,
and seemed to find it difficult to disentangle
his ideas.

“It is very funny,” he muttered. “If it
should turn out to be so, it would be one of
the quecrest things I know of. I believe I
will go and tackle her, and see what 1 can
make of it.”

He was in no hurry to tackle anybody, how-
ever, or to carry out the purpcsc, whatever it
was, which he had formed.

It was not until after dark, when all had
eaten their suppers, and Eva Talcott and Linda
Shropshire, finding nobody to hinder them, had
sallicd out to enjoy the night air and converse
‘frccly, that Colonel Rapp follov. ed them, and
i then it became manifest that his intention was

to interview Eva.

As he spoke to her, a genuine politeness
showed itself in his manner, in spite (:f the
' abruptness of his address.

" Is this the young lady?” he inquired.

“I believe that I am a young lady,” an-
swered Eva with a smile.

The old man interested her, as he seemed to
be harmless and well-meaning, though she
could not help fancying that there was some-
thing strange and out of the way about him.

“You are from Louisiana, I understand,”
said he, “ and your name is Eva Talc-ctr.”

“ Yos, sir.”

Of course she presumed that he had got his
information from Mark ' Hannnfin, and she
naturally wondered what this opening was to
lead to.

‘f'Ihis is not the first time that I have heard
the name—that is, the name of Talk-cit; but I
can’t suppose that you are in any way related
to the young thief who was here. the other day,
and I ask your pardon for hinting at such a
thing.”

“I am not aware of any thief among my
relatives, sir," she answered a little haughtily.

“Of course not. But you Were on the Bow-
ena, as I am told, and he claimed to have been
on the Rowena.”

Eva started and turned pale; but the next
moment she mentally braced herself up.

“that do you mean, sir?” she demanded.
“W'h’at young man are you speaking of? I
Would like to understand you.”

“Perhaps the young man was not the real
thief. I must admit that I had my doubts
that. If he was a thief, he may have been]
into it by the old man who was with him, and
that is quite likely, as the old man had the most
of the money.”

What did this mean? It was getting decided-
ly interesting to Eva, who saw before her a man
whom it would be worth her while to conciliate,
and from whom she mi ht draw some impor-
ting information. 80 s e encouraged him to
tal .

“ Who was the young man, sir?/,Yon are now
speaking of two. Who were they, and what
have they to do with my name?"

“The old man called himself Gray Gordon,
an? ,the young man called. himself Gerald Tal-
co t. \

 

 

There it was, and the revelation was abig

one.

If the young lady had not been expecting
some similar stroke, and had not braced herself
to meet it, it would have kndcked her down.

As i was, the trembled inwardly, and for a
women she found it difficult to get breath
enough to set her tongue in motion.

Outwardly, however, she maintained a fair
degree of com sure, and when she ,oko there
was no specie emotion visible in her onOS.

“Talcott is not a very uncommon name.
Min—L believe I heard them call you Colonel

Rnp'F.” ‘_ ,

“ hat is my name, I believe. Yes I am sure
it is my name, though I was killed once. and
some things have been badly mixed since then.”

This was another evidence of “ queerness” on
the part of the old man; but Eva was so intent
upon following up the revelation which she had
received. that she took no notice of it.

“ As I was saying, Colonel Rapp,” she ob-
served, “ Talcott is not a very uncommon name;
but I would be sorry to learn that it was home
by a thief. Iwill be greatly obliged to you if
you will tell me about that youn man who
called himself Talcott, and also abou his friend,
the old man who was with him~how they hap-
pened to come here. what they had stolen, what
they had to say for themselves, what became of

 

 

them, and all about it.” .
, The old .man ,was, Willing enough to comply

 

 

r

with her request, and he proceeded to give her a
detailed account of the visit of Gray Gordon and
Herald Talcott, their detention, the arrival of
the Genders, the accusation of theft, and the
restitution, as he presumcd it to be, of the prop-
erty stolen from the flatboatnnm.

“lVe got it all back,” said he, “and then I i .
turned them loose to shift for themselvos.”

“ \Vas it not rather cruel,” inquired Eva, “ to
send them awa like that, with no means of get-
ting food or 10( ging?”

“ What else could be done with a pair of r
thieves?”
“ Perhaps they were not thieves.”

 

“ There IS a chance that the young man was '3
not a thief; but they were together." ‘ = 
“It is a strange story. Colonel Rapp. and I {.-

than]; you for telling it tome. I hope that the ‘ l , 4
young man who called himself Talcott was no
relative of mine. Linda, I think it is time we
were getting in-doors.”

Courteousl bidding the old man good-night ' 1
she returne to the cabin with Linda, quite
glad to get away from him, as she feared that
her overcharged emotion might cause her to
break down and betray something which she i
did not then wish to be known. ' ‘

She had learned that her brother was alive
and in the company of the man who had be-
friended him on the. Rowena. and that was
the best news she could possibly have received.

How his disappearance had been effected was
still more or less of a mystery to her, as was also 1
the manner in which his life had been saved;
but she was convinced that Mark Ilannafin be,-
licved that Gerald Talcott had been “ put out of
the way.” ,

That being the case, it scemor best to her
that he should continue in that belief, and she
did not propose to favor or confuse him with in-
formation to the contrary.

She would have the satisfaction of knowin
that to the extent of that information she hall
a decided advantage over him, and in the ,‘;
mean time Gerald would surely communicate '1?
with his mother, and could not fail to search 3;.
energetically for his sister. "

; CHAPTER XXIV.
A BAREFACED FRAUD.

THE next day the abode of the moonshiners
presented the appearance of a military camp.

'Work was suspended, all the men went armed,
and the energies of all appeared to be devoted to,
the task of putting the. place in condition to
stand a siege, at the same time taking all possi-
ble precautions against a surprise or sudden at- , J:
ta . v

v .

Enoch Shropshire and his two sons were put ’ a
undcrtho same strict disci line that prevailed '1 
among the moonshiners, being distinctly infom-
cd that they were expected to bear their full
share of all toils and dan crs. ‘

Colonel Rapp declare that in his 0 inion $3
and according to his experience stolen orses r 
always left a trail, and that be fully expected
the owners of some of those which had been ,
brought to his camp to follOW and find them,
unless they should be taken far out of the way.

“Now that on are here,” he said to Enoch |
Shropshire, “ sup so I will have to take care
of you as well as can; but I warn you if it
comes to a fight you will have to be found in the
front rank.”

Mark Hannafin was not counted among the
fighting force, as he was not a member of the
horse-stealing family, and as his prize, what-
ever she might be, was surely not a stolen

orse.
So he infcrmed Eva Talcott that be pro sod
to devote the (la to his own affairs. an sur-
rised as Well as elighted her by the further in-
ormation that the first business which would
receive his attention would be her message to
her mpther.

He mounted and rode away, followed by her
wondering eyes and bewildered thoughts, as
this last move of his was a. puzzle to her. ' ,.

Did he really mean to do what he said he was ‘lx i
going to do? f not, why should he say so and
start away for that appar<nt pur .050? What
was there for him to gain by any resh decep—
tion in that matter? . ' e

As she could not gncss either of these conun-
drums, her only resource was to wait and see
what would come of the new move, in the mean
time hugging to her heart the l:IC'~‘.:' ::d belief that
her brother whom she ,had supposed to be lost
was alive and well. /

She got through the day very fairly,
about the abode of the mzcnsbincrs, (perceiving
the. nature of the bpsincz's that was one there.
noticing‘tho militaiy aspect of ihe,men and .
their Warlike preparations, and at the same "'
time studyin the approaches to the place and .’.
the chanceso escape in case she should deter- ‘
mine upon flight. I \

It was not until late in the afternoon that
Mark Hannafin returned; but he was look-
ing very bright when he dismounted from
his horse, as if he had achieved a trium h or
had met some unexpected piece of goc for-
tune. .

Eva was there to meet him,.if not to greet
him, and he hastencd‘to import to her a portion
of the satisfaction which he evidently felt.

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(1

“ I hope you will not blame me any more,”
said he. “ I have brought you some news at
last.”

“ From my mother?” she eagerly inquired.

"From your mother. If you will come out
here a little way, I will give it to you.”

“Why not here?”

"I don’t suppose that you care. to let these
people know anything about your business,”

It seemed to Eva that there was no stifiiCient
reason for taking her away from the house: but

she was more than anxious to See her mother’s ‘

message, and followed him accordingly. _

He led her to a little distance from the cabins,
handed her a sealed envelope which he took from
his pocket, and seated himself on a log. .

She made no move to take a seat near him,
but stood up and scrutinized the envelope before
she opened it.

It was not the usual style of telegraph envel-
ope, having no printing on it: though the cus-
tomary cabalistic letters and figures Were in the
lower left hand corner. _

When she opened it she perceived that the
message was not written on a. telegraph blank,
but it was not that which caused her brow to
contract and her cheeks to flush as she read it.

After glancing over it she read it again care-
fully, the frown deepening on her brow, and
then she spoke slowly and deliberately.

“ Where did this come from, Mr. annafin?”

“ From Rocky Bluff, the station from which I
sent your message.”

“ Where is Rocky Bluff?”

” More than fifteen miles from here.”

“Quite a long distance. You must have had
a hard ride. It‘ you will eXCuse me, I will read
the dispatch again.”

This was the dispatch:

“Glad to know that. you are safe. Come home as
soon as possible. I will send money to Rocky Blufl’,
but cannot send by telegraph. As on have been so
long out with Mr. Hannafin. ou iad better come
home as his wife. I hear goo reports (.f him.”

It was a strange message for a mother to send
to a daughter who had just esca from a. ter-
rible death, and it was more t an strange to
Eva, who naturally knew her own mother so
well. v
“ Have you read this dispatch, Mr. Hanna-
fln?” she coldly inquired. _ I

“Oh, ves, l was obliged to read it before it
was sealed for you, to learn whether an answer
was re uired.”

“Di it seem to you that an answer was" re—

quired i” _
“ I sent back word that the money might come
to Rocky Bluff.”

“Are you sure that this dispatch came from
my mother?” _
“As sure as I can be of anything. I sent
your message to her, and that is the answer I
0t.”

“ It is not written on a telegraph blank, and
the envelope is not an ofiicial one.” 0

“Rocky Blufi’ is but a small station, and the
operator happened to be out of both blanks and
envelopes.” . _

“ As you are acquainted With the. contents of
this paper, Mr. Hannafin, I would like to know
what on think of the advice contaimd in it.” _

“ ell, really, Miss Talcott. as my name Is
mentioned there, I am an interested party, you
know.” .

“ Of course you are, but perhaps you “'111 tell
me whether you believe that my mother could
ever have insulted me in that way.”

“ Insulted you, Miss Talcott ?”

“ Insulted me b makinfixfuch a suggestion
for such a cause. t is far yond belief. Do
you not suppose that she knows me too well to
imagine that Ihave done anything of which I
should be ashamed? Haw did she get the
thought that you might be willing to marry me.
a person who deseerd such an insult? How did
she learn that I had been, as this paper says, out
so long With you?” . ‘

These were plain and direct questions, and
Mark Hannafin endeavored to answer them.

“The fact is, Miss Talcott,” said he, “that I
went a little beyond your instructions, and gave
your mother—of course in as few Words as 
sible, an account of your rescue and of su _ -
quent events. But I had no idea that she would
yield such a ready consent to our union.” .

.Eva Talcott made a. gesture of impatience,
and contempt was lainly written in her face.

“Mr. Hannafin,’ she said, “you are talking
“nonsense. What you name as our union is im—
possible.” I v

“ Why should it be imposmble? Y our mother
wishes it, and you know, Miss Talcott, that I
adore you. Marry me. and you could not Wish
a more devoted slave than I will be.”

“ You are still talking nonsense. If I wished

' tomarry Iwould prefer a masterto a slave;

but Iwould never marry you under any cir-
cumstances whatever.”

“ Why not?” \

“ Because I have learned to know you too well

- . and to despise you too thoroughly.”

Mark Hannafin jum up, his dark face
blazing with anger. an his utterance was thick
and ‘ ionateashespoke. , V _

“ you thoroughly despise me, and it is o.

 master that you want! Well, you shall have a

 

 

.. ,.»._,..~..’  .1. . _. *.\. n,  «y 
l .

The Old River Sport.

21

master, and it shall be the man you despise. If  cott, if he marries you, I believe I will have to

kind words and
shall try the ot er way, and I tell you, Miss

ood intentions are of no use, I i kill you.’

’
“ Would it not serve the same purpose to kill

Talcott, that you shall be my wife before you j him 1?” Eva suggested.

see

Marki Hannafin.”

Eva did not appear to be in the least moved !
The knowledge of would be to kec

by this threatening speech.

her brother’s safety had been a wonderful tonic l

l

for her. “
“ Now on are talkin0r worse nonsense than
_ I5
CVPr,” she replied.

our home again, as sure as my name is 1

“Oh! I couldn’t never kill him; but I‘d have

i to kill somebody afore I died.”

"' I do not know what vil- I

lainy might be accomplished by swindling and ,
brutality, but I do know that I would never;

really become your wife, and I am quite sure

that you would never be able to touch a dollar 1

of the property that is believed to be mine. But.

I do not wish to waste words on such nonsense. i
I wish to say to you, Mr. liannafin, that you 1

do not know my mother.
could never be persuaded to think ill of her chil-
dren, and if such a sug estion as is contained in
this paper should ever

pity the person who made it. She‘ was born a

She is a Woman who 3

6 made to her, I would i

l

lady, was Mod a. lady, and has lived the life of 1

a lady, and it is impossible that she should take
any view of the subject that would be unbecom-
ing a lady. I presume that you have never en-
joyed the ac uaintance of people (f that style of
character. 1’ you had it would have been bet-
ter for you, and you would never have made the
mistake of writing such a paper as that and
trying to pass it off on me as a message from
mv mother.” »
a young man‘s face was livid with rage.

“ Do you mean to say that I wrote that dis-
patch ?” he fiercely demanded.

" Ask yourself—you know best. I am sure
that my mother never wrote it. You must ex-
cuse me now, Mr. Hannafin, as I wish to be
alone and think of what I had better do.” .

“ Don’t give yourself too much uneasiness,” he
answered with a sneer. “I intend to take all
trouble off your hands.”

“ I could not allow it, sir.
done enough for me.
my‘ brother.”

his blow, delivered so quietly, was the hard-
cst and most stunning blow that Mark Hannafin
Had yet received, just because he was quite un-
able to comprehend her simple statement.

“ Ex cting your brother?” he exclaimed,
with a ook and a tone of blank amazement.

“ I saw him last night, and he promised to
come to me.”

At this his amazement deepened into abso-
lute terror.

“ You saw him last night?”

“ Yes—in a dream.”

She quietly walked away, leaving Hannafiu
in a state of mind that may well be called a
muddle. -

What was the matter with her? Had she
game crazy? If not, it was strange that she
s ould speak of her dead brother in a. jesting
way.

You have ah‘eady
Besides, I am expecting

 

CHAPTER XXV.
THE SENTRY AND THE GHOST.

EVA TALCOTT did not give herself the trouble
to consider Mark Hannafin's state of mind at
that, moment, as she was satisfied with what
she had done and with what she intended to

0.

She had astonished and mystified him, as she
meant to, and had been quick to interpret his
consternation at her statement concerning her
brother as a sure sign of guilt.

As for his threats she did not fear them, as she
had decided on a course which she ho would
put her beyond the poss1bility, of furt er perse-
cutions. «

She knew what to expect from him, as he
had shown himself in his true colors, and there
Could be no doubt that,'after the failure of his
attempted fraud, he Would resort to yet bolder
measures.

She kept within the cabin during the remain-’

der of the evening. avoiding Hannai‘in as much
as :.he could without seeming to do so; but with
this exception there was no change in her de-
nicanor.

After she had retired to rest with Linda, and
all was quiet about the cabin, she began to carry
out her plan, which involved the. co-operaticn of
the Shropshire girl—not because she believed
that the latter would he of any service to her,
but because sho wanted company.

“ Linda,” she whispered to her half-asleep
companion, “ do you want Mr. Hannafin to
marry me?”

“ Gracious me!” exclaimed the girl, startled
into widcawakeiulncss. “ Of course I don’t!
How can you ask such a question?”

“ Because he swears that heis going to make
me his wife. As he cannot do that by fair
means, he says that ,he will try other means.
Anyhow. he is determined that if I ever go
home I shall go as his wife.” .

“ Has he told you that, Miss Talcott?”

“ Only a few hours ago he told me that, very

plainly. I do not know how he expects to make

316,,hls wife, but that is what he says he will

0. i .. '

“ He’ll do it, then, and it ill kill me; but I

won’t be the only onev.,to g tihurt, Miss Tal-
l" I _ . I ‘ A .

V a
i ‘r i ,

   
  
  

 
  

 

 
    
  

“It seems to me, Linda, that the best plan
him from marrying me.”

“ How could do that?” ~

“ Help me to get away from here and go hem
to my ~01 ilc.”

“ 1 wish I could, but I don’t know how to do
it, Miss Talcott.”

“I will tell yi n. I have kept my eyes open
since I have been here, and have studied up the
best way to get out of this place. I believe
I know just where to go and what to do in
order to escape safely. But it is after I

et out of here that my trouble begins, as I
Iwould be about as bad as lOSt if I were alone.
But you know much about the country and the
people, and with your help I can get to a place
of safety and send word to my friends. I have
Some money, and will get plenty more as soon
as I can hear from home; so I will be able to pay
our wa y, and you shall lose nothing by helping
me. Will you go with me, Linda?”

“ I hate to go away from him.”

“Would you rather stay and help him to
marry me? That is what it will amount toif
you do not help me to get away from him.”

This alternative was too much for Linda, who
surrendered at once.

“I will go with you. Miss Talcott. and will
help on all I can, though I am afraid it is little
thatI can do.”

“ That is right. Do {you know a town or vil-
lage called Rocky Bluff”

£  ,7

“ But there is such a place. and it lies some-
where to the west of this. We will go there. If
we do not find it. there are other towns. All I
want is to get where I can send word to my
friends, and then we will have no more trouble. ’

"\‘Ve can do that, I believe, Miss, Talcott. if
we can find our way out of here without bein’
caught."

“ Leave that to me. my dear. All you have
to do is to mind what I tell you, and we will go
through."

Eva waited a little longer, until all in the
building seemed to be sound asleep, and then di-

rected Linda to go out noiselessly. promising to , .

follow her if her departure should be unob— L

StrVCd.

This scheme worked well, as nobody stirred,
and shortly Eva slipped out and found her com-
paiiion waiting for her outside. '

Eva then took command of the party of two,
and proceeded to carry out her plan like an old
campaigner.

She had noted as carefully as she could the
positions of the sentries and other arrangements
of the moonshiners’ camp, and knew that it
would be useless to attempt to escape by the
piiss at which she had entered, as it was not only,

i

a"?

ocked up ,bya log fortification, but was so  '3'-
elosely guanded that she could not, fail to be  . _‘ 

covered. ‘
At the western end, however, and not far he: ,

yond the log—houses, there was a smaller and . f .

more difficult pass that led to the upper countryg ‘ "

and here but one sentry was posted, as the pass
was a mere bridle-pat , was seldom used. and
was not likely tebe discovered where it debouch— .
ed upon the upper region. ‘

It was, however, easy enough of
people on foot if they should once
Eva had decided that it was the exit by which
she must obtain her freedom. / '

The ,question was, how should they
Sent , and this point had also been wel eonsidi
ered y the young lady. « ,

For such a plan as s e proposed ci umstances
were both favorable and unfavoral. . ‘ ‘

/

ssthet A

 

ssage for 
nd ‘it, and y ,

The nizht was a bright one, the moon shin'i "'  .

in a sky that was flec ed by rag

.cloud which occasionally obscur her face. ‘

,.

patches 0 I 3'

The night was misty, also, as the ground was.  .1

very moist and the hours of darkness were some-' ' ‘

what chilly, and the exhalations that arose were *
almost as thick as a fog, giving a weird and un-

natural appearance under the moonlight to 0b»; 

jects near at hand.
As Eva silently stoic, toward the place which she-

was seeking, circling around the heavily-timber; 1 ’.

ed ed e of the camp, she picked up a
,phosp crescent rotten wood, or “fox- re," asj
the natives term it. :

When she reached the fuss, followed closely-

by Linda. it was easily visible in the moonlighn ‘ '3 , 

and ihc Sentry was also quite as visible. suited

on a log ina position that would compel them to ;

pass within a few feet of him, if,they should
pass at all. '

 

'3;
iece df f‘, “

 

His back was toward them, and his rifle  

across his knees. and his slouched but had fallen ‘

down over his face, and he waseitherasleep in. ii

that attitude, or absorbed in profound medita» 

tion. , V _ _ -. '
“ We can never pass'that man Miss Taicott,”

whispered Linda. \ ' 

L

“ I think We can, if you will watch me   
just what I tell you to do.” - ' a
“ What is it?"

,“Iamgoing fightupto him, anaemia;

 
 

 .

 
    
 

22

V

The Old Inverspom

 

 

 

 

pass~him in front. “'hen I get his attention
engaged, and I hope to engage it pretty closely,
you can easily 5111) by on this side if you make
no noise.”

“ Oh. I will be as still as a mouse.”

Eva Talcott took off her hat and attached it
to her dress. let her long hair fall down upon

"4 , her shoulders, and rubbed the )hosphorescent

wood under hcr eyes and on her u'ows.

" llow do I look, Linda?” she whislxzred.

" Uh, Miss I‘alcott, you scare inc.”

"That suits me, but it is a man that I want I
to scare. Now for it!”

Eva stepped forward boldly and entered the :
pass, keeping well within the shadows of the,
trees and as far from the sitting sentry as the
nature of the ground Would allow her to.

' r in her nearly white dress, and with the phos- :
' horns shining about her eyes, she looked toi
inda Shropshire like a ghost as she glided into '

I.

 

 

1 ' the pass.

"5 I . Like a ghost. too, she seemed to the solitary 1
 sentry when his gaze at last rested on her.

a . ‘ The snap )ing of a twig aroused him from his 4

reverie, ant he looked up and saw it.
‘4'}  , He was SO startled that he rose suddenly, and
' ,1 his rifle dropped Off his knees and fell tothe
I: ‘ H ground with a noise.

The noise startled Eva also; but she had been
expecting to be startled, and was careful not to
betray her agitation.

Though she was scarcely twenty stops from
: him, the mist arose between her and the sentry,
'5", shrouding her with a film that not only gave
', her the look of a. ghostly figure, but added to

"  her apparent hight and size. '

" The phosphorus about the eyes, and the

imagination of the sentry, added the rest and
. Q completed the supernatural character of the
  ap arition.
z». > , ‘ 3 he arose and dropped his rifle, Eva halted
" f  and faced him.
 ., As she halted, raising one arm and pointing
j, / . toward heaven, her figure exalted by the misty
' Inconlight, she presented a truly supernatural
appearance from his point of view, and it was
no wonder that he stood there, transfixed with
. amazement, if not with horror, and found him-
 ' 3le for the moment unable to stir band or
“‘5‘ ' oot.
“.3” Possibly if it had been a ghost of the male
, persuasion, he might have mustered up courage

enough to challenge it, or even to ick up his
"rifle and t. its temper with a bu lot: but to
’ shoot at sue a ghost as that was quite out of
the uestion.
 ‘ 0 y a few seconds she stood there, her hand
 ‘ pointing upward and her eyes shining with
 the phosphorus, and then glided away ac if the

mist had abscrbed her, but in reality disa pear-

edoin the dark shadows of the pass beyon .

. There she was met by Linda Shropshire, who
, had not neglected her opportunity.
She displayed on this occasion more than her
usual intelligence, and, watching her chance.
, cheely, when the'sentry jumped up and stood
staring at the apparition, she glided into the
w puss behind him as silently as a night bird,
,' ml in dose than a minute was safe within the
" shadows with Eva. -
,- The sentry stood and stared at nothing as if
, in a stupor, and it must have been fully three
j.“ W ungutes before his senses began to come back
I , 1: im.
"‘"VQThen he rubbed his head, stamped his feet,
locked foolishly down at his rifle, and finally
picked it up, but did not resume his seat on

he log. r
_ He walked further down until he was fairly
out of the .pass, and there 6 ccd to and fro
in soldier fashion, looki appre ensively about,
 and anxiously awaiting arrival of his relief. “
.a I He did not have long to wait. as it was then
nearly midnight, and at that hour a. moon.
‘ ', cabinet came to take his place.
‘ .. . =.“I am lad youhave come, Sam,” said the
 ' bewilder sentry. “I wouldn’t stay here any
flange; "for all the whisky we could make in a.

"‘ What’s the matter?”
' “I’ve seen a ghost.”
.‘ 1: 9 _"What sort of a ghost?”
, 1 7 “All in white, twice as tall as I am and with
 v ,7 xi; eyes that blazod like fire. She stamd up in the
' ’ ‘ ms there, and I’d sca’cely got a good look at
' When she melted away.” i
 “"80 it was a she ghost, was it? I wish I had
  had your chance. ain t afraid of ghosts, and
 if the shows up again, I’ll tackle her. You had
 ' better go and turn in and sleep this thing ofl.

; , CHAPTER XXVI.
, v ‘ m MEETING or ran: cowNELs.

; ‘ COLONEL Burner and his son Lawrence

" hastened awa from Talcott’a Lending, and

,- went north as act as am could carry them.

M An Memphis was 3 int from which thel

' - news of the destruction 0 the Rowena had been

 , graphed, it was necessarily the point at

 w ichthe most information was to be'gained, ‘

 « and from which the search should start. '
;  Of course their flm_visit was to a newspaper

.- omco, where they naturally espected to get the ’

latest and most reliable intelligence: but they

 nothing that specially interested them.

I l

_ .6 y, ‘

 

  
     
 
     
 
 
    
    
  
   
  
  
 
 

Y}

 

 

 

I does furnish.

Further details of the disaster were plentiful,
and the names of those who had been saved
were more fully given, It ether with the names
of these whose bodies ha( been recovered, and
there were other: particulars wrich were more
or less accurate; but in no report was there any
mention of the names of Gerald or Eva 'l‘alcott.

Though the captain of the Rowena, who was
Well acquainted with the young people, had
been saved, he was seriously injured, and his
mind was astray.

Hank Byers might easily have. given to the
press at least as much information as he gave to
Gray Gordon and Gerald Talcott; but he was a
“ shady” character, and was noted for his
ability to mind his own business.

As for Gordon and Gerald, they had been so
closely occupied with their own concerns that
tdcy had not thought of furnishing anything for
publication.

And so it goes frequently. Accident and
niiscliance conspire to keep facts hidden, and
matters of news are jucged by what the press
docs not furnish, quite as muchasby what it .

As Colonel Bastrop could not doubt that his
young friends had been passengers on the ill-
fatcd steamer, the necessary inference was that
they were lost, and he hastened to insert in the i
daily papers an advertisement offering a reward j
for the recovery of thcir bodies.

Such being his belief—a belief in which he ‘
was supported by the lack of evidence rather 3
than by evidence—it was the greatest surprise
and gratification that he received more favora-
ble news and from a quite unexpected quarter. K

It was late in the afternoon of the do of hisI a
arrival, when he and Lawrence had near y com- i
pleted their arrangements for going to the scene 

of the disaster the next morning and beginning
their mournful search, that he received a dis-
patch from Mrs. Talcott.

It was to this effect: \

“ I have delayed telegram sent from Memphis by
Gerald. He believed that Eva was safe. and was
about to go in search of her with some friends. I
am coming on." i

This put a new face on the affair, and greatly 
raised the spirits of Colonel Bustrop and is son. l

They hastened to seek further information of '1
Gerald and his friend, andgot traces of them
not only at a hotel, but at the levee where they
had engaged the little steamer that carried them
down t )0 river.

The same craft was not available then, and
they w'ere 10oking about the levee for better ‘
means of transportation than that which they
had already partly on aged, when Colonel Bas-
trop encountered an o d friend, or, rather, was
encountered by him, as the first intimation he
had of the presence of his friend was a slap on
{he aback, followed by a. hearty grasp of his
ian .

These demonstrations were made by a bluff
middle-aged man, of fine presence and military
bearing. ~

“ Why. Louis Bastro i” he exclaimed, “ you
are about the last man would have expected to
see here, and yet there is nobody whom I would
be more glad to meet. You don’t mean to say I
that you have really forgotten me?” ,

“Charley Crampton!’ answered the amazed
Louisianiam “No, I have not forgotten you;
but this is such a surprise 1”

They were a pair of old fellows to be callin
each other Louis and Charley; but they h
been college mates and old friends who had not
only been separated by the war, but on opposite
sides of the great conflict, one of them havin
commanded a regiment in the Union army, an
theother holding a similar position in the Con-
federate army. ' ,

This meeting carried them both back to the
days of their youth.

‘We have been growing old, Louis, since we
last met,” said Colonel Crampten, and we have
been through enough to givo us gray hairs. I
suppose that I must show in ago more than
you show yours, as I recogni you as soon (:81
saw on.” "

“ hat is because you are brighter than I am,
Charley, as you always were. Here we are
now, a couple of colonels, with a big past totalk
about when we get time.”

“ Ex-colonels if you please, Louis. For m
part, I am tired of the colonel business, thong
eve body continues to give me the title.”

“ f course you are not in the army now,”
suggested Colonel Bastrop. \

“No, indeed; I unit as soon as the fighting
was over. I am in the service of the Govern-
merlit,”though, being one of Uncie Sam’s mar-
sha s.

“ Pretty good berth, is it not?”

“Well, yes, in same respects it is; but in my
jurisdiction there is rather more bother and
risk about it than I care for at my time of life.
I am just on the point of goin over the river to '
look up some moonshiners, an that is mighty ,
apt to mean fight. By the way, Louis, what 3
are on doing here?” {

“ e have just started to search—but you i
must know my ‘son, Charley. This is Lawrence '
Bastro .” . , ~ .

“ A young fellow, and I am glad to meet
him.” . ‘

 

 

\

 

' until the time for action comes.

“As I was saying, we have just started to
search for some friends of ours who were on the
Rowena when she burned.”

" That was a sad disaster.
lest, i suppose.”

“ 0n the contrary, we haVe just lcarncd that
one of them is safe, and we hope that both are.
I will tcll you about it.”

There u as not much to tell, though it was a.
sad story up to the rcieipt of the dispatch from
Mrs. Tulcott, and Colonel Crampton was deeply
interested.

” it is lucky that on met me. Bastrop.”
said he, “ as I believe will be able to help you
in that business. As I told you, I am one of
linclc Sam’s marshals, and am going over y n-
dcr to look up some momisbiucrs. 1 don't know
just where to find them, but am expecting a
man with further information. 1 shall take half
a dozen deputies. as good men as ever sat in a.
saddle. and I have a. stcumlu at cngu red that is
to land me wherever I want to go. f you will
allow me, Bustrop, I will take you nd 'ourson
aboard, and we will run do“ u o \\ ere the

Your friends were

, Rowena “as lost, and I w ill put myself and my

men at your service. I am in no sort of a burr
to find my moonshiners, you  Indeed,
would be much better satisfied if there Were none
to find.”

Nothing could have pleased the Louisianian

. better than this offer, and he accepted it with

many thanks.

“All you have to do, then,” said Colonel
Crampton, “is to tell me where you are stop-
ping, and go back to your hotel and rest. As

: soon as I see the man i am waiting for, I will

finish my arrangements, and will let you know
when you are to start. By the way, have you
engagcd horscsz'”

“Horscs?” exclaimed Bastrop. “ W'hat use
will we have for horses?”

“ None at all, perhaps: but it is well to be

reparcd for emergencies, as you are goin
into a country where you w ill need horses i
youvtravel at all, and you may as Well go armed,
too.

“ My dear friend, we are not going to hunt
moonshiners.”

“ You don’t know what you are going to hunt.
Of course I shall not ask you to help me; but I

v am giving you good advice.”

r “ We have our revolvers.”

“ That will be enough, and I will get a couple
of horses for you. '
my. friends will go mounted. on bad bcttcr
go to your hotel now, and take things easy
Early in the
morning I will rouse you up, and you may
depend upon it that I will get you to your
destination sooner than you could get there with-
out me.

Colonel Bastrop not only acquiesced in this ‘

arrangement, but was more than glad at finding
the way smoothed for him so well.

He was convinced that no man could be better
able to help him at that time and place than
Colonel Crampton, and he considered himself
remarkably fortunate in meeting his old friend
and bein r assisted by him.

He son an answer to Mrs. Talcott’s dispatch,
informzng her of what he intended to do, and at
an early hour he retired for the night, depending
fully on his friend Crampton for the consumma-
tion of all necessary arrangements.

 

CHAPTER XXVII.
MEETING rm: ENEMY.

BEFORE daylight the next morning, Colonel
Bastrop was aroused by_the other colonel, who
was as fresh as a daisy in spite of his loss of
slee .
“I supposed you would want to get as car]
a start as possnble, Louis,” said he “and so
have hurried up things, and We will get off as
soon as you can dress, and come down to the
levee.” '

This was joyful news for Bastro , who
jumped out of bed and hastened to cal Law-
rence.

“ You will get your breakfast on the boat.”
said Crumpton. “and there is nothing else that
you need worry about, unless you want a morn-
ing cocktail, as I suppose you Southerners are

in the habit of that sort of thing. For my rt
I quit the use of liquor a few years ago an find
mysclf vastly better oi! without it. lint I am

not here to deliver a temperance lecture.” _

‘Colonel Bastrop did not care for a morning
cocktail, nor did Lawrence. and in a very short
time the \had paid their bill and were on their
way to t e levee with their friend.

There they found a little stem-wheel boat i

with steam up, and aboard the boat, besides her
captain and crew, were seven men of Colonel
Crampton’s force including the spy who had
been expa'tcd, and horses for the entire party.
As soon as the two colonels and Lawrence
had arrived, the gang-plank was hauled in and
the small steamer rounded out and pufled and
paddled down the river ' ‘
During the ‘short voyage that ensued the two
Old friends amused themselves with telling
stories of the war, Colonel Bastrop relating how

he had captured part of Colonel Crampton’s

That is in mv line, as I and.

 

 

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The Old River Sport.

23

 

 

 

‘ regiment in the Red River Campaign, and

 

would have caught its commander if he had
not happened to be in the hospital at New Or-
leans.

They got their breakfast on the boat, pre-
pared the commissariat for the mars-halls ex-
pedition, and before noon were landed near the
wreck of the Rowena.

The ex rieuce of the combined party when
they had anded was quite similar to that which
Hruv Gordon and Gerald Talcott had previous-
1 y gone through. “

They were met on the shore by Tom and
Myry” and their father. who had benchted so
largely by the last arrival of a steamboat more,
that they naturally expecth another Lonanza.
from this one. . '

As they had interesting and valuable infor-
mation to impart, they got their bonanza.

On this occasion they were not only able to
tell of the rescue of Eva 'I‘alcott and the de-
parture of herself and her Companions with the

‘i'hropshires, but the arrival of Gray Gordon

and .u‘rerald Talcott and their movements up to
certain int.

8 Of AbepoLassiter and his party and the hunt
for horse—thieves they either knew nothing, or
ke it their knowledge to themselves.

hey were duly rewarded for the information
thev were able or willing to give, anal Tom,
with an eye to more “ bucksheeh” offered to
conduct the party to the Shropshire place; but
his offer was declined, as Joe Stenxmlcr. Colonel
Crampton’s scout or spy, declared that he knew
the country and needed no guide. '

So they mounted and rode off, quite in mili-
tary style, and making no more delay than Was
absolutely’necessary. .

Thev found the Shro shire house deserted, as
Gorddn and his frieu 5 had found it, but madn
onlv a brief stay there, as it was evident that
there was nobody about. and there were plenty
of indications to direct their attention else-
where.

Those indications were a. great many fresh
horse tracks, showing in places where the
horses had been hitched at a little distance
from the house, and a broad trail lemling north-
Ward into which all the tracks seemed to 0021.
vol e.

ch Stemmler and his comrades considered
the tracks carefully, and early arrived at the
Conclusion that some of them were fresher
than others, proving the recent presence of
two so rate parties; but one party had evi-
dently olloWed the other, as all the tracks join-
ed in the same trail. and there seemed to be
nothing to do but to go right on and follow
them both. .

So the marshal and his party mounted and
rode away rapidly, as the trail was nearly as
plain to them as a road. I

Colonel Bastrop was quite downhearted at the
discover or lack of discovery made at the
Shro .hire place, as ho had fully expected to
find va Talcott somewhere near the shore, if
she had really been saved from the wreck, and
Colonel Crampton was equally mystified and
perplexed.

“I must confess that I don't know what to
make of it, Louis,” said the latter. “If the
young lady you are _1 wiring for really came
ashore anywhere near here, I am afraid that sne
has fallen into bad hands. Are you sure, from
the description given by those young scalawags,
that the lady they spoke of was Miss Talcott?‘

Colonel Bastrop could not say that he was
sure;' but he was decidedly of the opinion that
it was Miss Talcott. He also believed that the
description of the young man who came after-
ward answered to t at of Gerald Talcott.

“ Well, Louis, if we concede those two points,
we must come to the conclusion that the young
lady has been carried away, willingly or other-
wise. and that her brother, finding her miming,
has made up a party and folloWed the [g]:
whom he supposed her to have gone wit .
the best thing for us to do Will be to right on
and follow the whole outfit. What 0 you say
to that, Joe?” ‘

“ That's jest right, colonel,” answared Stemm-
ler.’ “This trail leads toward the p’int that

ran want to strike, and thar’s somethin’ in
bat.”

“Of course there is, and I shall be glad it I
can kill two birds with one stone. You must go
in advance, Joe, and tell me if the trail branches

,off anywhere, or if it takes any direction diner-

out from that which you want to follow."

The trail was followed at a rapid rate until
darkness set in, and it was agreed that there
would be no serious difficulty in following it
through the night: but the needs of food and
rest were’ to be considered, and it was decided
that it would be best to camp and take an early
start in the morning.

As the party rode on the next day through

the bott m-land, Joe Stemmler reported that .

there had been no sign of a split in the trail,
and that it still led direct toward the point

V which he wished to reach.

80 the part rode on, constantly in the same
direction, on through a coun whose charac-
ter did not vary. until the trai turned off to-

‘fiwarda high and rockzfland wooded blufl, and ,
r

than Joe Stemmle ted to give his chief

. .: ~ .. r 1. . « .
.' i, a. / , 1.. ,~' .31;
-,. -.»....¢=‘,._  -' ,s ,_

'th

 

ionie information and receive instructions from
1111.
“ “'hat is it now. Joe?” in uired the marshal.

“ Well. colonel, our part 0 the business is as
plain as daylight. whatever may be said of the
rest of it. The. moonshiners we are huntin‘ haVe
thar hole right up yonder in the bluff. and
that is jest whar the trail we have been follerin’
leads to.”

“ That means business, then. and it is my
plain and square duty, much as I hate to do it,
to go on and catch my iiiOOiisliiners."

“ You will pleae remember, Crampton,” sug-
gested Colonel Bastrop, “ that I and my son
Lawrence have not lost any moonshiners, and
don‘t care to find an .”

“ I understand that, Louis, and you need not .
suppose that I am going to ask you to help me. I
If my men are not enough for the work, I shall i
back out and postpone the job. But you must i
also remember that the friends you are seeking,
if they are anywhere on this side of the river,
have probably taken the same routo that we are
following, and have gone up yonder where I
want to o. I can‘t guess how that thing has
happene , but the chances are that such is the ,
state of the case.”

“ You are right, Crampton, and I rec ize
the fact that I am in the same boat with you; s
but I merely wish to remark that I don’t want ‘
to hurt any moonshiners.”

“ Nor do I want you to. It is for me, merely
as a matter of duty, to open the way, and you .
may follow as you please. But I must first get
an idea of what I am goin into, so that I may
.. ottle on the best way to ta '6 hold of this busi- -
ness. Here, J 00 l”

Joe Stemmlcr, who had gone a little ahead of
the party to roconnoiter, returned hastily to his
chief.

“Now, Joe, as you know a good deal more ‘
about those moonshiners than my of the rest of
us, I want Von to tell me how many there are of
them. and how they are fixed.”

“IW’”011, sir, Colonel Rapp is the head man,
am ——

“ Thunder and spikes! Do you hear that,
Colonel Bastrop? There is another colonel
mixed up in this business, and that makes ihree
of us. I doubt if there was evcra war that pro-
duced such an abundant crop of colonels. ‘Vell,
I am glad that I have a colonel to contend with
in this affair, as that gives it a military tinge,
and makes it look a little more warlike. 1 ask
your pardon for interrupting you, Joe; but I
reall could not help mySelf.”

“ s I was goin’ on to say, sir. when you
bu’sted in, Colonel Rapp ginerally keeps eight
or ten good men about him, and thar’s no tellin’
who or how man have gone in t-har lately; but
you see that the rail is a big one.” ,

“ Yes, and I am afraid that they will prove
to be too many for us to tackle. But we must
try to get in there. What are the chances for
sneaking in, J on?”

“'Tol’able poor, I’m afcard. They can block ‘
up the way as easy aswinkin’ if they know we’re
comin’, and they’re mighty apt to know it, so

keep a col lookout a l t e time. ”
We will ave to go at it in military style, .
then. and we will do that right away. How far
up there is their den!"

“ About a quarter of a mile, I should say."

Under the instructions of the marshal the 1
party dismounted. hitched their horses in the
timber, and moved slowly and cautiously up the 1
slope. guided by Joe Stemmler. ‘

Colonel Crampton was in the advance. and
all had their rifles ready for sharp work at any
moment.

They had not gone near a uarter of a mile I
when a hail followed by a shot rought them to =
a sudden halt. '

They hastily sought cover. and directly the
halill was repeated, this time more clearly and .

u y.
f “ Better keep od’, there! Who are you, and
what do you want?" '

" We want you I” yelled Colonel Crampton.
“You had better suirender peaceably, as we .
mean to take you dead or alive.”

“You can’t in to take us. Come on you
darned sconndre and you will get who you i
have been deserving for along time.” i

“ Well, boys, that means business,” said the !
marshal to his men. “ The have been waiting g
for us, and it is clear that ey mean to give as ,v
a. tough time.” ' s g

“Thar must be a crowd of ’em.” observed :
Joe Stemmler. “ or, they wouldn’t have met as 5
so far from their den. ‘Durned if I can see into ;
it. anyhow.” E

“ That is what we have gottoflnd out. Move
forward carefully, boys, and keep well under .
cover. and see if you can draw their fire.”

l
v

 

enemy was concerned, thisnttempt wassucoess—

to]. as wellas disclosing their position. i
The fire was much to the

position was seen to be a strong one. , .
Firing then became pretty brisk on both

I delay, t

' as well let us come in.” p Y ‘1
“Nary come in. It‘s ag'inst orders. Keep  ~'

gagement; but Colonel Crampton kept his men

, in position, hoping to creep up on the wary foe

during the night.

Curiosity and companionship had caused
Colonel Bastrop and Lawrence to advance with
the others, and after the cessation of the com-
bat Lawrence took it into his lzcad to reconnoi-
tcr. creeping forward tor that purpose over the

1 rocks and through the Lushcs.

It so happened that (he of the opposing party
had left, his friends with a similar object in
view. and had come nearly v. ithin reach of
Lawn-lice when he stumbled in the darkness and
fell down a sleep little incline.

Instantly Lawrence Barti‘op pounced on him

, and shouted to his friends:

“ Come here quick! I‘ve got one of them!”

CHAPTER XXVIII.
BETWEEN TWO riREs.

GRAY GORDON accepted his good luck in find-
ing the Gonders and gifting [is money back
from them as an augury of lul‘thl‘ good luck,
and was in high spirits when he got i ack to the
Shropshire house, though he
Gera d with any of his enthusiasm.

That young gentleman was futting elect the

ough he could not hill) admittii g tha
it had been necessary. '

Fortunately for his peace of mind, it soon
came to an end. the nicest nger who had beta
sent out by Abe Lassiter returning with horses
for Gordon and Gerald and their two compan-
yous.

Then they mounted and rode northward at a
good rate of speed, and there was no further de-
lay. except such as was caused by the netessity
of “ foddcring up,” and that operation was short;
cued as much as possible. ‘

It was easy enough for any of the party to
follow the trail, but Jerry Mabry was the one
who informed them when they were approach-
ing the end of it.

“ That’s a fact,” remarked Gordon. “.1 have
good cause to know something aboutihe place we
are coming to, and it is strange that Gerald and
I are here again. I rcmcmber an old sayin that
all roads lead to Rome. I don’t pretend to ’now
\\ hat that means: but it does seem to be a fact
that all the roads I take bring me here in the
end.”

There could be no doubt that the trail which

 

' the party had followed from the Shropshire
house led up the bluff and to the headquartersof ‘

the inoonshiners.

It was sunset when this point was reached, and .

as night would soon be coming on. it was not
supposed that the party would be able to do any
effective Work before morning. if they should
meet the opposition which they expezt9d.

However, it would be possible to feel the posi-
tion of their antagonists. asc¢ rtain their force,
and perhaps make a rush that would carry them
through.

This movement was successful as far as re

,arded its first object. but an utter failure as“

or as it contrmplated a surprise.
The moonshiners and their allies. fully prepar-
ed to meet an attack. were not to be surprised.
Abe Lassitcr and his 1 arty rode slowly up the
bluff, intending to go as far as their horses would
cari' them, and had reached the point “here
Go

stop.
“ Hello. tharl”
“ Hello, yourself I” answered Lassiter.
“ Halt whar you are!
what do you want?” ’ .
“ We are huntin’ a gang of horsevthieves.” '
“ Thar ain’t no boss-thieves about here.” ‘
“ We have tracked them here.” . -
“ Thar ain’t no boss-thieves here. I tell you.”

“ If that is the case. we are friends of yours. 

and don‘t want to harm anybody.

away, or you’ll git hurt.”

The pursuing party had caught sight of a. log ‘~

fortification that blocked u the. pass, and the

gleam of rifle-barrels show that it was wonde- I A '-

fended; therefore they wisely determined that it

would be better to pause and consider the mat- I,

ter than to expose their lives to useless risk.
80 they halted where they were

and retired spot where they topple their

horses and prepare something for themselves to "  
eat, and proceeded to put the pass in a 3mm 0“,“ 

819m I ‘
Abe Lassiter and Jerry Mabry, with most of -

the others, had served in the war, and they made

their war knowledge available, and naturally

fell into warlike methods. 
Pickets Were put out, stations and duties were

assigned to each of the party, and, artillery was”, I .
As far as drawing the fire of the concealed the only military element that appealed to be. _ z

, thus settled themselves for thought. '
purpose, and the : they awaited developments on the of\the

enemy. ..  
No demonstration was heard in that qum’ter .d’ .

sides; but both were cautious and well covered, and they hoard notbin ’

and no special damage was done, as far as the blows of an ax and the

k1 .
Bavmg

ing of a tree, wh

assailants knew, except the _slight wounding of indicated that the distances of the ps3 were 

the mmhal’s deputies. '
The arrival of

 

darkness puts, stoptothoen- ,

 

“the,  flie‘position. in twat of

.5;\"*.
. \.. . .,.. \

failed to inspire \

Who are you. and7

but the occasi‘ 

on and Gerald Were captured, when a hail - \
and challenge from above brought them to a

found a safe  ' 

.‘. i.)
a

l‘.i
.J
a “m
N 

 

v

'24:

 

it The Old  Sport.

 

 

was closely viewed and carefully studied, and
afterward a council of war was held, at which
it was agreed that it Would be like sternumr a
battery to attempt to carry the fortification that
blocked up the pass.

Jerry Mabry profes ed to be well acquainted
with the locality, and Gray Gordon and Gerald
Talcott had been up as far as the still, and the
three were of the opinion that the pass could be
easily made impregnable. and the others were
eqlkially satisfied that it had been made impreg-
na > c.

From the best data obtainable it was supposed

that the combined force of the moonshincrs and
their allies amounted to twelve or fifteen men,
., probably reachingr the latter figure.
.{ , Though they might be slightly outnumbered
by the party from below, they occupied a posi—
tion in which a few men were easily equal to
many.

As that position was not assailablc by a direct
, attack, the next point to be considered was
 ’ , whether it might be carried by a flank or rear
" ' ‘ movement.

v, Jerry Mabry was obliged to confess that he
‘ , . knew nothing about the rear aspect of the moon—
shiners’ den, and Gordon and Gerald had not
beenlbeyond the two cabins.
«12,; , It was presumed that there must be an open—
 " ing in that direction, but, as it would probably
be tedious to reach and difficult to find, other
means would be preferable, if there were any.
None could be thought of cxccpt,a flank at-
J. . trick, the outlosk for which was not at all prom-d
’ ‘1s1n .
Biff climbing the precipitous hills through
which the narrow path ran it might be possible
[to gain a )osition overlooking the pass, from
which its defenders could be seriously woriicd,
I and a few daring and active men prepared to
V make the attempt.
, The moonshincrs had kept quiet as long as
' they were not molested, and it seemed to be their
policy not to do any fighting unless they were
, . driven to it; but when this aggressive movement
" ' began they woke up and proved themselves to

, to‘be alive, and on the alert.

‘1 ‘ The climbers found it dillicult to reach the po-
sitions they desired to attain, and when they
got up there found it yet more difficult to secure
cover that would enable them to stay there

35 . , with a reasonable degree of safety.
" ti ’ 3 ‘ They also discovered that their opponents had
- ' anticipated such a contingency by the extension
:F'of the fortification with which they had block-
. _ aded the pass. »
Er ' j“ , As one of the men who had been in Lee’s

; ,arm Observed, it was as tough a bi) on a
Elna 1 scale as Fredericksburg or Cold arbor.

.5 . 'Whenever one of the men up there attempted
’ 3 to get a shot at the defenders of the pass he be-

’came the mark for bullets that compelled him
to “ hunt, his hole,” and et the moonshiners did

 not waste a. shot, never ring unless the aggres-

‘mive attitude . of their assailants compelled them

,fiOAt the same time it was evident that the at-
, tempt from above did not create any diversion

 in favor of the attacking party below, or give
I them any chance to make a rush at the barrier

- so the men up there were finally ordered
' , down.
W . It was aged
1 . . th’zycould '9 men enou h to maintain sev-

" ' ’er ‘ “sharpshooters on the eights, and at the
.gsamc time kee a sufllcicnt force below for a
 front attack, t ey mi ht be able to drive their
’1 v :" antagonists out of t 9 pass. but they were

. :, obliged to admit that they did not have men
3,. . enough to"eflect both of these objects.

”_  (Diem futile attempts, tedious and laborious as
they were, bad occu led the greater rtion of
"lithe day and Gray ordon and Gera d Talcott,

 ha the closest and deepest interest in the

- Mair, had become disheartened at the failure of

, _ "the operations thus far, when there was a new
 ,- "mntirely \unexpectcd and surprising change
a‘ a

On

,,

   

 

,after a consultation, that if

 

programme.
l of the party who happened to be in the
roar came hastening to his comrades with the
 astounding information that a number of men
were advancing up the bluff with the apparent
» intention of attacking them.
.v  ~.“The scoundrels are carrying the war into
', fifrical” exclaimed Gordon; ».“ and hey must
5.; , I.- have a much bigger force than we ha 811 posed
' _‘,‘ ltheyihad. They have sent part of the r men
5 . around. to take us in the rear, hoping to shut
,. uiiup betan two fires and pound the life out
 harm.»
~,  . This was the opinion of the others, though the
I new phase of the conflict was so surprising to
f. all. and: it was instantly resolved that they
' ’1 Would fight the fight for all it was worth, some
,eonsola on being found in the fact that they
,é , w d have a fair chance, at the new-comers,
5 .who ‘would be sheltered by no barricades. ,
 Notimewas lost, and under the directions of
g ‘ ‘Abe'Lassitcr and Gray Gordon the men faced
gggout and took the best available positions for
* n

E.

 

tense against the new onemcy.
 They were sure that the a vantage of locw
"‘- tlon was on their side, and that they might
hope to beat 03 their toes unless they a ould be
axing outnumbered, or .unless. as w highly,
la, those behind the barricade should.

\

 

 

   

take advantage of their predicament to pounce
upon them.

The new arrivals YK‘Z'C duly challenged, and
the result showed that they meant fight, and
not-bin but fight.

So t 10 light began, and it may lo safely n51:-
scrted that when darkness put a step to it,
neither of the parties to the conflict was beliu'

pleased than the party which had expected to i

find itsclf between two fires.

They had received a fresh surprise, Laid. a most
gratifying one, from the fact that not a Sllml)
had been fired from the barri :adc bclzind them,
and no sort of a demonstration had been made
from that direction.

“Then the firing had ceased they huddled to-
gcthcr in the darkness, not daring to light a fire
to cook their supper, and discussed the situation
in a style which showed that they were utterly
bewildered by the turn their affairs had taken.

“I can’t seem to make this thing out,” said
Gordon, whose opinion was generally deferred
to, as he was considered very clear-headed. “ If
those scoundrels, as I said awhile ago, had sent
a. party around to take us in the rear and shut
us up between two fires, the gang above. Would
have been sure to pitch in when their friends
attacked us from below; but they kept as still
as mice and let us entirely alone. It don’t
seem to me that the two gangs are working to«
gethcr.”

“Yet those folks down tlfar said that they‘d
come for our scalps, and meant to have ’cm,”
suggested Lassiter.

" That’s so; but it is just possible that they
are barking up the wrong tree, and it is some
other folks’ scalps they Want. Perhaps it is
some other party that has come here to look for
horse-thieves, or even for mmmhiners.”

“ If thar should have been such a mistake as
that, Mr. Gordon, we ought lo find it out, though
it’s bad for poor Billy Hickman, who has got a.
bullet—hole in his leg.7 -

“ \l'cll, it is not likely that there Will be any
more lighting before morning, and then we will
try to get a talk with them and find out what
this thing means.”

Gerald Talcott, hmvever, took it into his head
that he would do a little scouting on his own ac-
count under cover of the darkness, with the
view of finding out the facts of the situation and
springing them on his friends as a surprise.

So, leaving his rifle in the camp, and armed
only with his revolver, he stole away without in-
formiiw anybody of his intention, and started
down the broken and rugged slope toward the
position occupied by their recent foes.

It was a daring attempt—not to say fool-
hardy-for a oung fellow who was ( uite unac-
customed to that sort of thing; but he had his
own ideas of what he could and would do, and
proceeded to carry them out.

Of course he put his foot in it.

That is to say, as he was carefully working his
way down the difficult ground in the darkness,
he caught his foot in a vine at the edge of a
steep descent, and tumbled headlong. '

The next moment he was seized by one of the
opposing arty who happened to be stationed
there, and) a strug lo began which raiScd a
great commotion in 0th camps.

CHAPTER XXIX.
MAR HANNAFIN’S TRIBULATIONS. ‘
THE disagpearance of Eva Taleott and Linda
Shro shire came on top of another excitement
which Was deemed of more importance by most
of those in the moonshiners’ camps than that

 

was.

Indeed, the ONE/person who was deeply inter-
ested in it was ark Hennalln, and circum-
stances Controlled him to an extent that was far
beyond his desires.

The excitement referred to was caused by the
arrival of the party headed by Lassiter, and
that naturally took precedence of everything
else in the minds of the moonshiners and the
Shropshire family, as it concerned the preserva-
tion of their lives and property, stolen and
otherwise.

Information of the approach of the pursuers
was promptly convoyed to the cabins, and Col-
onel Ra p and the Shropshires, accompanied by
Mark Ilhnnafin and most of the moonshiners.
hastened down into the pass to direct and assist
the defense of the den.

The position was naturally so strong, and had

already been so well fortified that it was only 1

neccs cry to guard it carefully and watch all the

points closely, and the moonshiners had no fear ,

that it would be carried by assault or other-
wise.

Yet the were considerably annoyed and pet-
plexod w on they learned what sort of men
com sad the assailing party and what their in-
tentions were. ,

Their object was made plain when they de-

clared that they had come there to lock for .

hem-thieves, and further evidence was furnish-
ed b Ben Shropshire.

“ know the cuss who yelled at us,” said he,
“ and this ain’t the {155: time that I’ve hecrd his
voice do .gone i l '

“ Who‘ls he?” infinimd Enoch Shropshire.
“thy, pap don’t you know him? It’s Abe
Lassiter, who lives up on the

- l

 
  

  

;
\, ‘_\’

  

  

Sandy Hill rcad.’-’ '

 

...__ -._. 7

“ Yaas, he lost a couple 0’ bosses a while ago.
I {did ,allowed that somebody mought ha' stole
1 Ulll.’
i “So it is you that they are, after." broke in
1 Colonel llapp. “ This is too durncd bad, but I
i suppose it can’t be helpch
1 “They can‘t git in here, anyhow." observed
; the elder Shropshire.
“I don’t believe they can: but I “ish that
l they had never come. This is the worst #0181)?»
i I have been in yet, and I can't tell you Law I
i hate it. If it was a lot m“ Uncle Sam‘s men,
j wanting to pull me up 1': r imkiizg “hisl‘y, I
;('uuld stand it “I‘ll enough; but 1 was never
mixed up in a hora—strafing scrape befm c, and
I don’t lilze it.”

“ You ain’t mixed up in it."
shire.

“ I am, and yorf knmz’ I am. Ycu have
mind me up in it. ll‘oll. I 1:2:13' as well be
hung: for a slzecp as frr a hub, .‘llfl now that
I am in I shall go in all (,‘fL‘l'. Few that you
lm‘o here I will take care of you. and those
ji'ollrs sha'ift get hold of you, no matter who
1 they are or what they are aftu .”

As Colcncl Ilapp was known to be a man of
f, his word. with plenty of grit. and backed b ' a
{determined set of fullou'n‘s, the Sln'opslnres
i felt quite safe after this :53:>l‘.1':‘.1!(c.

| They and their allies 1 . :ziw d at the forti-
: fication during the night, awaiting an attack
1

l

 

protested Shrop-

   

WlllCll did not come, and the ('(rclusion was
4 that none would be made before nzcining,
I though it was ‘evident that the attacking
, party was on hand and ready for business.

E Under the directions cf‘ Colonel Rapp his
E followers strengthened the dcfniscs and added
Ito them during the night, and took turns in
1 keeping guard and sleeping on the ground.

i It was the absence of most of the irrn on
I this business that cnalllid Eva Tnlcott and
i Linda Shropshire to slip out of the log- house
and escape without lacing else rvcd.

Mark Hannafln renzaimd in the paSs during
the night, and in the 1M rning, when skirmish-
ing began and a no] f'gld appeared to be im-
minent, he was retaincd there by the express
order of Colonel Rapp.

“You are mixed up in this, ‘oung man, the
same as the rest of us,” said i :e niconshiner,
“ and you have got to hear your part of what—
ever the difficulty calls for.” '

Hannafin protested that he was neither mixed
up in horse-stealing nor in nioonshining.

“ You are caught in bad company. ihen, and
must take the conscqucnrcs. You have an af-
fair of your own on hand. too, and you can't cx-
 us to help you unless ycu turn in and help
us.

grain with the young man, who was strcngly
averse to doing anyt ing that might mark him
as a law-breaker; but he had too much sense to
attempt anything like open rebellion.

, and in the daytime was careful not to fire a
shot or to expose himself \\ here he would be
fired at. x ‘

It was not, however, until noon that he was
allowed to leave the pass and return to the head-
quarters of the moouehiners, and when he got
there he speedily learned of the disappearance
of Eva Talcott and Linda Shropshire.

It was naturally first discovered by Mrs.
Shropshire. who missed the mo girls from their
sleeping place when she rose at an early hour in

ct brea k-

when she wanted Linda to help her
not find

lflast for the entire family, and coul
er. .

After yelling for the girl in shrill and strident
tones, she was 0in ed to call in one of the men
to help her, and s o loudl declared that she
would give Linda “a goo frailing” When she!
l got back.

' and at breakfast-time neither of the missing
ones put in 'an a pcarence.

Aftera perim of waiting which largely in-
creased the wrath of “Aunt Eliza,” search was
made for them. and the search resulted in the
report that they were not to be found anywhere.
about the premises. .

The. supposition that they had merely been
strolling about for their pleasure was abandoned.
and the presumption was that they had run

 

where could 1hey have gone to?

It was manifestly impossible that they should
have climbed the hights that inclosed the hol-
' low, and equally impossible that they should

no other way of exit but the Following at the up-
per end, and that was guard . . ‘

Such was the condition of affairs when Mark
Hannaiin came up from the pass, and he was
, eatly excited by the ‘intelhgencc that greeted

 

1m. ‘

What had become of the missing ones was
S‘llll the puzzle until the meonshiner who had rei
': lieved the sentry who saw the ghost was struck
~j by an idea.

It was apparently a funny idea, as he held
1 down his lzcad and “ snickercd” in a style that

l aroused the anger of Nari: lfcnnzfin.

This necessity went decidedly against the \

the morning, but missed them more acutely

Linda. did not come back‘to get the “ trailing,” ‘.

away; but how could they have got away, and ‘

“VVlmt is the matter with you?“ demanded !

He did not lose much sleep during the night, '~ '

I

have gone down through the pass. and there was ‘ I

 

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25

 

the young man. “ I don’t see anything to laugh
at ,7

“ You must excuse me, Ca . I was jest
a~thinkin’ about that durned foo , Sam \Vilsey.”
I “ Who i; he, and what is the matter with
iim?"

“ He was on guard up thar till midnight, and
when I w -nt to take his place he told me tnat
he had seen a ghost, and a she-ghost at that. I
laughed at him then, but now I am beginnin’ to
think that thar was snthin’ in it.”

“ “What was in it?”

“ “'hy, that them gals had slipped by him and
gone out that way.”

Sum “'ilsey was called in and questioned, and
when he told his storyas he had told it to his
comrade, Mark Hannafin was also of the opin-
ion that the fugitives had passed him and gone

out.

“I don’t believe a durned word of it.” replied
“'ilsey. “Anyhow, thar was only one of ’cm,
and that I’ll swear to.”

“ That’s the way with folks who see ghosts,”
declared his comrades. “ They either see a
durned sight too much, or not nigh cnough.
Them gals have skipped out, and that’s the way
they went.”

“ Fur my part,” broke in Mrs. Shropshire “ I
don‘t keer a cuss how or whar they Went. That
gal of mine ain’t no good, nohow, and t’other
one was more trouble than she’s wu‘th to us.
Jest let ‘em slide; but if I ever do ketch holt of
that Lind , I’ll make her suffer.”

Mark unnafln was not at all disposed to “ let
them slide,” and prepared to go in search of
them immediately.

Pockcting a little bread antl meat, and taking
his rifle as well as his revolver, he hastened to
the narrow pass at the head or the hollow.

There he was stopped by the sentry on duty,
who positively refused to allow him to go fur-
ther without a ass from Colonel Rapp,

So he was ob iged to return to the post below,
and there he had to tell the story 0 the disap—
pearance of Miss Talcott to the chief moon-
shiner, who kept him “ hanging around ” for
some time before he would Comply with his re—

nest.
q “ I can’t see that we owe you any favors,”
said Colonel Rapp. “ You have. not lifted a fin-
ger in help ‘us when we were in trouble, and why
should we help you?”

“ I don‘t want any help,” answered Hannafin.
“ I only want to get away’ from here.”

"To hunt that oung ady, I suppose. Well,

I I shouldn’t wom er if she has taken the boss

. selfrdcfsnse. The fight that is

- meanwhile were not having a bt
'r I “#16.”

course for herself, and if she is well out of your
way now. Here is your pass, and good riddance
tO‘ pa 1” .

’lrzhe old man made a mark on a chip, which
served Mark Hannafin as his pass out; of the den
of the moonshiners. ' t

It was then pretty late in the afternoon, and
shortly after the young man had left him Col-
onel Rap received a surprise in the shape of an
event w ich to him and those with him was
quite incomprehensible. _ ‘

The party opposed to him had not only With-
drawn the sharpshooters who had been tryin to
flank his position and pick 01f his men, but ad
started a fusilade of scattering shots, none of
which Were tired at moonshiners or horse-
thieves.

There seemed to be, indeed. a re ar fight
goin on down there, and who con (1 the con-
tending parties be? .

This was a puzzler to Colonel Rapp and his
friends, and with their best efforts they were un-
able to solve it.

Bob Shropshire who was an adopt in the arts
of‘crce ing and sneakin . undermine. scant
in the direction of the sc mage, but succeeded
in discovering nothing further than the fact
that the men who had been fighting his comrades
.vere firing vigorously at some men further
down the pass, who were answering the fire
quite as freely.

" Now's our time, colonel!” said the moon-
shiner who was next in command to Colonel
Rap and in charge oftbe defenses in the .

“ gow’s our time, old man! While ose
cusses are fightin' t'other cusses down below, all
we’Ve got to do is to pounce down on 'em and
wi e ’em out without half tryin’.”

9 We’ll do nothing of the kind.” answered the
chief. “We are here on the defensive, and not
a shot must be fired or a move made exec t in
mg. on own
there. is right into our hand, a the two sides,
whoever they may be, may hammer awn as
long as they lease for all we care. I only pe
that they it! make an end of each other. ’

When darkness had' closed down upon the
scene it seemed as if they must have made an
end of each other, to judge by the cessation of
iiring and the intense stillness that prevailed.

“That’s all there is of it for to-night,” said
Colonel Ra p. “If they haven’t Wiped each
other out, ey will begin the me again in the
morning, and we are safe, any ow.”

CHAPTER XXX.
suns he ran woons.
~ EVA TALCOT‘I‘ and Linda Shro ire in the

ofa good

 

When they had got by the sentry in the little
pass they imagined that their troubles were end—
ed. whereas in fact they were just begun.

They had escaped from their enemies, or Eva
had, and were prmbly safe; but where wore
they?

It was evident that they were in a narrow
pass from which there was no exit at either side,
and therefore they could only 0 straight ahead;
but it was as dark as a rat ole in there, and
they could only make their way by feelin , not
being able to see, as the saying is, the ad
before the face.

They kept as close to ether as they could, for
the sake of company, t ough there was no fear
that they would lose each other, and were con—
tinually running against trees and into bushes,
and stumbling over rocks and other obstructions,
so that their progress was not only slow but
painful.

At the same time they were oppressed by We
fears, both of which were entirely imaginary,
but dwere not on that account any Ehe lees
VlVl .

Eva Talcott was afraid of wild beasts, though
it would have been hard to find in that region
anything that was more dangerous than a ’coon,
and Linda Shropshire was afraid of ghosts,
though Eva solemnly assured her that there
were no such thin s as ghosts.

Though it was ut a short distance to the
head of the little pass, it took them a long time
to travel it, and when they were through they
were so worn out by toil and anxiety that they
were obliged to stop and rest.

They knew when they had got out by the
fact that they were able to see each other and
to discern objects at a little distance, though
it was dark enough where they were.

Yet they Were but little better off than when
they were in the rat hole, as they had emerged
in a rough and broken country, a tangle of hills
and ravines into which they did not dare to
venture in the absence of daylight.

For a while they actually missed and regretted
the narrow and dark pass below, as they could
not go astray there, and the only drawback was
the difficulty of going at all, whereas after
they had got out there was no road, nor any
trail as they could see, and they were liable to
go astray and lose themselves.

This was just what happened, though they
were not aware of the fact at the time, as they

‘ wandered off into a ravine that led them in a

Elificrent course from that which they wished to
o ow.

They had not gone far when daylight came
to cheer them if not to help them. and they
were then obliged to admit that they did
not know where they were or whither they
should go.

“ Do on know a town or place called Rocky
Bluff, Linda?” inquired Eva.

Linda did not know any such place.

" I believe there is such a place, then b, and
that is where I would like to go to, if knew
how to reach it.” '

The solemn truth was that Rocky Blufl existed
only in the imagination of Mark Hannafln, who
but not on]
bad invente the place at which he claimed to
have received it.

“I reckon our best chance,” observed Linda,
“ will be to keep goin’ straight on until we strike
a road and find some -ople who will tcll us
whar to go and what to db.” ‘

“ But we must have been missed by this time
from the place we left, and of course they
will follow us. They will expect us to go
straight ahead and we had betterdeceive them
by turning aside, so that they may not be able
to find us.”

This deep design was put in execution, and
the result was that the two girls, who had al-
read turned aside without 'nowing it, made
anot er turn in their course, which bid fair to
become a circumbendibus if they should has on
travelin , bringiing up at the point firom w 'ch

thgjy s .
ut they did not keep on travelin , as an ac-
cident occurred which upset their as.

In going down a rough descent va. was trip-
ped by a. vine and fell, bruisin her arm and
side, and spraiuing her ankle barfiy.

It was immediately manifest that this was a
most serious accident, as the young lady was
utterly unable to walk or even to rise.

The sadness of this trouble was fully a pre-
ciated by both of them, and Eva broke, own
and began to cry.

“Please don’t take on 50, Miss Talcott." on-
treated Linda. “ You’ll 't over it arter awhile,
and then you'll be all rig t a ’in.”

“ A lon_ time. I am afrai and what will we
do until t en? How will we live?”

“Well, I reckon we’ll have to git you into
some sort 0’ shelter, whar you can rest and 'take
things easy, and then I must skirmish around
and hunt some victuals. -

Linda found a pleasant spot near by in the
shelter of a clump of bushes, and without much
difficultysgot Eva there. ,

' Then 9 gathe some leaVes, which she
bruised and bound pon the injured ank e. mak-
ing an embrocation
soothing effect.»

1 ,

‘ 3  "NVJ‘ . rm. ‘f‘r’.’ ‘:§“~~.H ..  .r'

manufactured the telegram, but‘

that had 3.0001 g and

 

is

Having made her friend as comfortable as
possible, she prepared to go away in search of
food and perhaps of help, though Eva dreaded
bein left alone.

“ am so afraid,” said the young lady, “ that
you Will get lost and I will never see you
again.”

“You needn’t be a bit afcard 0’ that, miss,”
answered Linda. “ I can find my way any“ but
about the woods in the daytime, and I’ll fetch
back here to you, jest as sure as shootin’, no
matter whar I go.”

Eva ave her friend some money with which
to urc ase what was needed, and summoned
all er strength of mind to sustain her during
what she feared would be a long siege of soli-
tude.

It was a long siege, and all her powers of en-
durance were needed to support her as she
was worried in mind and wea ened in body by
plain, as well as exhausted by lack of, food and
s ec . . ’

boon had come and passed before Linda re-
turned; but when she did at last arrive, she was

so joyful because of the succcss of her cxpedi— '

tion that she did not seem to feel the fatigue of
the long tramp.

She had found a little log house in a clearing,
where the people poor and ignorant as they
were, had been so 'md and obliging that she was
greatly cheered and encouraged.

They had not- only furnished her with a
basket of food and a drinkin -cup, for which
they refused to take any pay, ut had offered.
when Linda had told them as much as it was ad-
visable to tell, to send their team to bring away
the sick lady and take her whereVer she wished
'to o.

8 Linda did not know how this proposition

might strike her friend, she declined it for the-

prescnt, promising to bring Eva to the house in

the clearing as soon as she was able to travel, or-

to return and claim the offered hel .

“ I don’t raally believe, Miss alcott,” said
she. “ that that wagon o’ theirn could be fetched
in here anyhow through the hills and the timber;
but, if you don’t git well enough to walk aiore
long. I’ll make a try fur it.” .

“ We need not urry,” answered Eva. ,1 “ I
think that We are safe in this hiding-place from

any search that may be made for us, and, as we .

have enough to eat and drink, we ma ' as well
wait until to-morrow morning. If am not
able to travel then, on may go for help.”

In the morning t. e condition of the young
lady's ankle was sensibly better; but she was
not yet able to walk, and it was not considered
safe for her tomake the effort.

So, after they had eaten their breakfast and v j i
nearly finished the contents of the basket, it was '

agreed that Linda should go to the little farm-
house for help, and she started off chec rily,
pr'cli‘réiising to return as soon as possible. ’
in
acco ing to our calculations. Frequently the
outcume is worse. than we expect, but sometimes
it is better. The he]

had expected to bring to her friend“
CHAPTER XXXI.

SURPRISES ‘ALL AROUND.
1F Eva Talcott could have known how near

 

help was to her at that time, and what sort of '

hel it was, she would have crawled toward it‘
on er hands and knees. ~
Ever since she had received that Welcome rev-

e‘ation from Colonel Rapp, she had, been great— ’

ly comforted and strengthcned by the belief that
her brother was alive and probabl seekin her;
but she could not have imagined
near to her as he happened to be just then.

When Gerald Talcott slide up. or down, cn
his ambitious little scout. it fell into the hands
of the enemy. he was seized by an active”

.oung ..

man who gripped him firm] : but he might pos-

frcm the g1 . of;

his antagonist if the friends of the latter h not ,

promptly answered his call and come to hiBju- . '
'stance

sibly have extricated himse

SI . . ‘
They did come, and the spy was easily mour- ._

do not always turn out in ti is world I

which Linda Shropshire  
found was vastly di erent from that which she ~ 2

hate u'

 

ed; but when he arose and faced his captcrstho . i 

effect was startling and sensational.
“ Gerald Talcott t” exclaimed the man wh
had bbed him. “ Is this really you?”
I
s

asmnishcd captive.
trcp, too!
What does this mean?"

Ex lanations were interrupted by a commo- .

tion her up the pass.
Gray Gordon who had noted the absence of
his y frien

the. conclusion that he was t c captive who
fallen into the hands of the enemy.

Hastening in that direction, he shouted at  I g _’

top of his voice: ' r _/ , >
“ Look out what you do there! If youhurta,

I .

that you, then. Lowrence?” rele the M
“ And there isColoncl Bas- . a
How on earth did you ever get here!

oung and was looking for him 1311611.: ': I,
the about was raised beloWg amped instantlm I, ‘

hair of that young man’s head€we “m bonfid  i. r

'you to the death!"

The answer that came back was surprising in- ‘a

the extreme. .

“ It’s all right!" yelled Gerald. J‘ Come down} i “

here. Mr. Gordon! These are friends i” V 
Goulon scrambled down the slope as fast as

.1

 

i

" 26

i he could, and found Gerald shaking hands with
several men with whom he was conversing in
' the most familiar manner.

The Ouugr man introduced his friend to Law-
rence astrop and the two coloncls, Bastrop and
Crampton, and explanations then came thick
and fast.

j “Why, Mr, Gordon, and Gerald,” exclaimed
i Colonel Bastrop. “ we had not the least idea that
it was you We wcro fightin . I'Vho are those
people with you, nnl how (lit you get here?”
“They are a party of men from down the
river who are hunting a gun r of horse—thieves,

4. and Geral‘l and I are seeking is sister, who has 3

i been carried. oil? by the horse-thieves. \Vho are j
o r people, and how did you happen to come
ere'.”

 I \ “Colonel Cramp‘on is a United States Mar- i
abs], and he and his deputies are hunting mooii- i

., shiners, and my son and I are looking for Miss
i Talcott.”

ill ' " We havo all come to the right place. The
7,. ‘ moonshincrs are iti there and so are the. horse-
‘ thieves, and I believe that Miss Talcott is With
y- , them.” . _

-’ Gordon h'istencd to inform Abe Lassrter and

his comrades of this amazing discovery, and
they came trooping down to fruternize with the
men whom they had lately been fighting.

_- " It seems to me," remarked Colonel Cramp—
'2, - ' ton "that this trouble might have been avoided
V if ere had been a. little more sense on my rt.
, We heard of Mr. Gordon and Mr. Taleott own
> ‘the river near the wreck of the Rowena, and we
' v " presumed that they were searching for Miss Tal-

 ,. cott. Theonly trail we could find brought us
r}, here; but when we found such a large force
"1"  ' readv to meet us and full of fight, we thought of
i... nothing but moonshiners then, and pitched right
 in.”

 ' “We had been trying all day to get at the

'moonshiners and horse-thieves,” said Gordon,
“ and when you turned up We supposed that they
. had sent a party to take us in the rear, and that
9,] ' was what made us so ready to fight.” I

 ' “Well, Mr. Gordon, I hope that there is not
" , ' much harm done. One of my men is slightly
, ' wounded. How is it with your side?”

y . r “0,135 of our Arkansas men is pretty badly

“We must bring him down here and attend
to him, as 1 am a pretty fair surgeon.”
“ Thar’s enough of us here now,” observed
Abe Lussiter, “ to wipe out the mmnshiners and
- the hoes-thieves, too, if we can git at them right.
I and my folks don’t go in for Worryin’ moon-
2. » shiner ass. general thing; but this set is bar-
33 1'3“, . borin’ a gang of hcss-thiovcs, and that makes
*‘i.’ , them fair game.”
‘w’g : “That is what we must do. Mr. Lassiter. We
23-} will join our forces, and I have no doubt that
'* y we will soon be able to clean out the whole busi-
ness when we have daylight to work in.”
. “ As there are so many of you now,” suggest-
. 2 : ed Gordon, “ you won’t miss a man or two, and
" I have a little scheme in my mind that I want to
v on ' ht away.” f
‘ ’ is friends were anxious to know the ndture
of his little scheme. _ -
. “I want to go 11 through the hills to-night,
7 ‘ passtho camp of t o moorrshincrs, and look for
m, ,‘ an opening at the other end."
kg, “You will only get lost in the darkness, and
“its  l cane out nowhere,” objected Colonel Cramp-

 

 

   
 

 I

33;, , , “I‘don’t think I will. I shall take Jerry
"--=.}.‘ .1 Nab with in ‘who says that he knows the
‘ wa through inedarkness as well as in daylight,

   

 %¥?“‘ 1, I

Qi-‘jgir go pyondor. I can’t pretend to say what I

4 t ' ,- will do when I find it, but I hope to be in a Wi-

tion to hel you. as well as to look after he
 .. Talcott. would beglad to have Gerald go with
2 '.  - me if he is willing."

'5‘- 1, 4 Gerald was more than willin , and he and
 r ", ' Gordon, with J crry Mabry as tho r guide, set of!
1’- fi‘ without any further delay. ,

-  The night was considerably darker than was

  . agreeable, and, if it had not been for Jeriiy‘s
‘l " I" , ' arity with that style of travelin , coup ed
.'- 72"” , th his remembrance of the loca ity, the

'» , ’ would have been lost soon after they left the r

   
  
   
  
   
  
 
 
  
  

 

 . n s. ,
, ' ‘  l , A: it was. they made slow progress. and found
 v” the Macy a long and wearlsoma one, though
" - the ' nt-o was by no means great.

4 It was also a dangerous one, as Jerry Mabry
-’ lost his wa more than once, and they found
..ithemselvcs n places where a. misstep might
‘ muse a fall that would be attended by serious
- "consequences.

The got through all right and without any
harm ul accident; but it was not until after
-. daybreak that they reached the broken country

‘  at the wast of the moonshiners’ camp. .
Then Jerrilost his way in looking for the
whit to

 am he expected find there and
 33y agenda-red abou at random. seeking the

'7 _, taint trail which was believed to lead to the

' 'hollmv below.

_ At last they found it, and had halted to con-

’." salt upon the next step to be taken, when an un-

‘ expected occurrence changed the current of

their thoughts and intentions.

 A young than was seen walking slowly up the
.~ tail, looking closelyon each side as he came,

.4
l

t
who is sure that there is an opening to the .
u

The Old River ’Sport.

land he was easily recognized by two of the

party. '
They had halted in the shade of a clump of

: bushes, and it was evident that he had not seen
1 them.
I “ Down, boys!” ordered Gordon, and the three
‘ went out of si ht together.
i “That is It ark Haiinafln, Jerry,” whispered
“ the leader—“the scamp I told you about—and

we want him very badly. Keep quiet and out
i of sight, now, until he comes near enough, and
V then we will nab him.”
i 021 came Mark Huimafin, occasionally looking
down at the trail for certain footprints that
would have been hard to find if they had been

i
l

_

“ I don’t know—only please keep him away
from Miss Talcott.”

“ Where is Miss Talcott. then?”

“ Out here in the woods.”

CHAPTER XXXII.
A SEAR? AND siioR'i‘ CAMPAIGN.

GRAY GORDON and his hm companions were
not miSsed from the combined forces under
the command of Colonel ('l'flllll‘tOIl, as there
were plenty of men without thrin.

A general council of war was held shortly
after the junction of the two parties, and it u as

junaiiiinously agreed that if they were not

a there, and occasionally pausing to gaze at the ‘:
foreston either side of the path, until he was ‘
Arkansas contingent, had gone “1th Gordon;

nearly opposite to the clump of bushes whei'e
the three men were concealed who wanted him
1 so badly.

l “Now, boys!” whispered Gordon, and they
; rose suddenly, and stepped out from thcir con-
; cealment, and confronted the young man With
6 three lcvclcd rifles.

l Home: carrying his rifle in his right hand,
' but made no attempt to raise it, standing there,

amazement.

“ Dron that gun, and throw up your hands!"
ordered Gordon.

Ilamniin obeyed the order instantly—not,
perhaps, through fear. but bicauso he was ut-
terly astounded by what he saw before him.

There stood (it mid Talcott, whom he had
thrown into the merciless MissiSsippi and be-
lieved to be drowned, and with him was Gray
Gordon, who had mysteriously disapmared from
the Rowena at the same time.

Of all men living—or dead, for that matter—
those tw ) were the last whom Mark Hannafin
Would have expected to encounter at that time
and place.

How had they escaped, and how had they
come there to confront iimi

These questions were soon to be answered to
his entire dissatisfaction.

“ Pick up his gun, Jerry, and get his pistol if
he has one.” was Gordon 8 next order, and the

oung gambler stood disarmed and helpless
fore his captors. -

“I perceive that you have not for otten us,”
continued the leader. “This is Gem (1 Taleott,
whom”you tried to kill by pitching him into the
river. ‘

“ Ho attacked me ” answered Hannafln, “ and
it was b accident that he went overboard.”

“ lVe rive our opin on of the kind of accident
it was. I am Gray Gordon, who went over-
board after him, and with my help he got
ashore. Since then we have been on your trail,
and now we have got you.” ’

“ What do you mean to do with me, then? I
am in your poWer, but I tell you at the begin-
ning that you can’t scare me.”

“ We are not trying to scare you,” interposed
Gerald, “and we would prefer not to hurt you,
if you have done no more damage than we now
know of. It is not because you attempted to
take in life that we have followed and caught
you. understand that you saved the life of my
sister, or helped to save it, and that may serVe
an a set-off to the harm you did me. But there
is another account to be settled—and the ques-
is now, what have you done with Miss Talcott?
Where is she?”

“ I don’t know,” sullenly answered Hannafln.

“ You don’t know l” exclaimed Gordon.
“Come, young man, it won’t do to begin this
business with a lie. We traced you and Miss
Talcott to the Shrogshire place, and from there
you came on with t at gang of horse thieves to
the cam of the moonshiners in the bluffs below
here. ow we want to know what has become
of Miss Talcott?" ,

“I don‘t ImOW.”

“ You had better make a clean breast of it,
and tell the whole truth, or you will get hurt.”

“I am telling the truth. I do not know where
she is. I believe that she left the place down
' yonder night before last with the Shropshire
girl, and it is sun ed that they came out this
way; but I don’ know what has become of
them, and I was looking for them when you

met me.”

“.Is this man speaking the truth?” ueried
Gray Gordon, as m raised his rifle.‘ “ hall I
believe him, or shall I shoot him down in his
tracks?”

He was answered in an unexpected manner,
and from an unexpected quarter.

A shrill scream was the first part of the an-
swer, and the restwas furnished by a young
woman who ran to the group from a covert at
the side of the path, dropping an enmty basket
as she ran, and brea hiessly placed herself be-
tween Mark and his captors.

“ Don‘t shoot him!” she cried, as soon as she
could get her breath. “ Don’t kill him! He’s
told ,the squar' an’ honest truth, s’nelp me

“And who do you happen to be, my dear?”
inquired Gordon.

“ I’m the Sh hire gel that he spoke about.
You won’t kill h In will You?”

m“ What shall we do with him if we don’t kill
In .

 

 

 

‘ .
A I. ‘x’
f ,- ‘ l ,1 2 K '.. , l'
' . - '. ' I V, . l ‘n‘ . - .i
, . , pri,,',__.h .A.)  l - 9‘.
u .. '_«- ,  «so i g , . 

motionless, as if fixed to the spot by horror or ;

 

enough for the Work they had to do, it would
be idle to undertake it with an army.
Jerry Mabry, who had acted as guide for the

but his place was fully siirplml by Joe Stemm~
lcr. Colonel Crainpion’s scout. “be either had
more information than the other, or was more
willing to ini} art or Use it. I

lmlo'ml, it “as pretty clear by this time that
he had a grudge against the moonshine-rs, and
against Colcncl Rapp in particular, which he
Was willing to gratify without being scrupulous
in regard to the means.

The wounded men were cared for by Colonel
Crampron. the camp was duly guarded, and
those who had lately been trying to kill each
other lay down togcther to get as much sleep
as the remainder of the night could give them.

Their common adversaries were in the mean
time not idle.

A thorough knOWledge of the ground enabled
them to get without discovery near enough to
the enemy’s camp to gain a  idea of what
was going on there, and to learn much of what
was said. as well as most of what was done.

Two scouts who were sent down by Colonel
Rapp returned safely, and both brought him
substantially the same report.

It was to the effect that the parties who had
been fightingr each other in the early part of the
evening had come tcgethcr peaceably. and were
preparing to make common cause against the
defenders of the pass.

“ So they failrd to chaw each other up, and
they must have made a mistake when they
came to ether and got into a skrimmage,” ob-
served t 9‘ old man. “Who are they all, any-
how?”

“Part of ’em,” answered one of the scouts,
“ are huntin' boss-thieves, as they told us plainly,
and we know well enough who they are arter.
But that ain’t the wu’st of it. The others are
Uncle Sam’s men, with Colonel Crampton at the
head of ‘cm, and they are huntin’ moonshiners.”

“It is a bad business all through. I was
hoping that they would clean each other out;
but they don’t se- in to have made much progress
in‘ that way. Well, boys, as we have this
trouble on our hands the only thing for us to do
is to fight it out, and it seems as if we ought to
be able to kec off a rigimcnt here. .But I
must sa y that don’t have much heart for this
sort of a fight.”

If Colonel Rapp could have known of the

reparations that were being made by his foes,
it is likely that he would have been yet more
disheartened.

At daybreak they were astir, and soon the

' Combined force were pushed forward according

to a plan that had been carefully considered an
well matured.

The marshal and his deputies. who had been
accustomed to just that kind of work, proved
themselves able to take advantage of every
chance that offered, and their allies from Ar-
kansas were all willing to profit by their experi-
ence and to emulate their achievements.

Sharpshooters were again sent up the ru ed
sides of the ravine to annoy the defenders o the
pass, and at the same time their friends below
moved forward cautiously under cover of the

trees.

Before a shot had been fired on either side,
Colonel Crampton hailed the enemy, a: d an-
nounccd his rank and his intentions.

“ My name is Crampton.” said he, “ and I am
United States Marshal for this district. I am
here to break up the. unlawful still that I know
to be up yonder, and to arrest the men who
have been working it. and that is what I mean
to do.”

“ My name is Abe Lassiter,” put in the chief
of the Arkansans, “ and I have come here with
some good men to hunt a gang of horse-thieves
who have run into that hole with alot of‘our
horses. and we mean to get the men and the crit—
turs. too."

“ We have men enough [to do what we came
to do,” urged the marshal. “ and you had better
surrender peaceably, as that will make it easier
for all of you.” '

" Except the rlurned horsethieves,” muttered
Lassiter. -

“ Talk is cheap.” shouted Colonel Rape at the
top of his voice' “but it takes more than talk
to get in here. We are honest people who have
been bothered by thieves before now, and we
don‘t know who you are and don't believe a
word you say. We are well fixed here, and we
mean to guard What's our own against any
crowd that comes. So you had better all go
away and keep out of trouble.”

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That ended the parley, and the business of

ii htin began in earnest.

he efendcrs of the pass Were soon compelled
to admit that the situation was more serious for
them than it had yet been.

Joe Stemmier succeeded in establishing him—
self and two more of the marshal’s deputies in a.
Insition on the, hights at the flank of the moon-
9 fnncrs’ fortification, if not a little in the rear of
11'.

Against this the nioonshiners were forced to
secure better (over, and while they were pre-
paring it th' y were badly worried by the other
sharpshooterz-z.

Thus than was in. fine opportunity for the men
below, who h'ixl brw-n emlily but cautiousl
advancing, and they did not fail to take a -
vantage of i‘.

The post of the greatest lory and danger,
howeVer, was reserved for rust Lmutz, who
had taken the, idea into his head that he must
then and there do something to distinguish him-
self and show his American friends how to make
war.

lVithout riving any of his comrades an inti-
mation of his intention, he disaEpearcd at the
side of the ravine, and wormed imself toward
the foi'tiiicai..iii. (chFlilg‘ his approach as well
as he could with trees and bushes and broken
ground, and p2 oving himself an adept in the
arts of sneaking and creepin .

Thus he succeeded in reaching the fortification
just when its defenders were demoralized by the
unexpected attack on their flank. and when a

rencral charge had been ordered by Colonel

‘rampton.

At that moment he rose to his feet, scrambled
up the log breastwork, shouted to his comrades
to come on, and started a brisk fire at the enemy
with his beloved yagcr.

The attem t was prctt much like that of the
Swiss hero, rnold von 'inkelried, and was at-
tended by somewhat similar results.

The astonished moonshiners immediately shot
down the daring leader of the storming party,
and be tumbled over on their side of the fortifi-
cation; but he had done some damage before he
fell, and his comrades, inspimi by the “break ”
he had made, rushed forward to rescue him or
avenge his death.

The rush was made just at the right time, and
was thoroughly successful, carrying everything
before it.

The attacking par swarmed over the burri-
cndcs in a hurry. am the defenders of the pass
were taken at a decided disadvantage.

Early in the morning' Mrs. Shropshire had
been notified of the serious character of t‘2e im-

ending engagement, and her belligerent feel-
ings had been at once aroused.

Seizinc; a. rifle, and buckling on a belt of cart-
ridges, she hastened down the pass to the assist-
ance of the old he Wolf and the two cubs.

 She reached the scene of action just when

' Ernst Kreutz had shot down Enoch Shropshire,

and her bullet was the first that hit the daring
German and brought him d0wn from his perch.

Directly afterward she shared the fate of her
husband and the man who killed him. and then
the assailants came pouring over the barricade,
and the fight was practically at an end.

A few of the defenders made a s‘and which
soon degenerated into a running fight: but most
of them who were not killed or badly wounded,
scampered away and attempted to escape.

Both sides had suffered pretty severely in the
brief but blood combat at the barricade; but
Colonel Cram n and Abe Lassiter. without
stopping justt en to consider the needs of friend
or foe, urged their men on, and pushei forward
in ursuit of the runaways. -

his speedy and energetic movement resulted
in the capture of Bob and Ben Shropshire and
three of 1: ie moonshiners, leaving but few to be
accounted for.

It also put the victors in possession of the two
log-houses and the still and the entire cam of
the moonshiners, and wfoan this was eff ed,
and their prisoners were secured, they were
at liberty to look about them.

With Colonel Crampton the claims of hu-
manity were just then superior to every other
consideration, and he hastened down the pass to
the barricade, when he met a portion of his men
who had been doing duty on the highta, and with
their assistance he gave the wounded of both
sides all the attention that was possible, carry-

' in: them up to the log buildings where they could

be better cared for.

The Arkansans in the mean time had found
and recognized their stolen horses, and were
eager to execute immediate justice—or venom noo
--unon the two remaining members of the horse
stealing family.

To this there could be no reasonable objection,
us the offenders had been caught with the stolen

99th in their possession, and the unwritten
d’tW tilt the land punished horse-stealing with
cat .

Neither Bob Shronshire nor his younger bro-
ther protester! against the infliction of this pen-
alty when their captors informed them of the
fate that awaited them.

“ You’ve killed Pop and Maw,” declared Bob.
” I don’t keer u durn what becomes 0’
me.

i Bob being in such a considerate frame of mind, ;

l

l and Ben remaining sullen and silent, it was de- v

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l

cided by the Arkansans that the hanging should

i
l

alive, and was sure that you would search for
me!"
“ How did you know that, Eva?" gently in—

} go on, and the two young men were being led i quired Gerald.

out with ropes when Colonel Crampton came
back with the wounded.

“ What’s this?” he demanded.
you doing with those men .6”

“ That’s all right, colonel,” answered Abe
Lassiter. “ These are the boss-thieves, what’s
left of them. “'6 found our critturs here, and
you know what that means.”

“ Well, I don’t know that it’s any of my busi-
ness.
them, and I suppose you know what you are
about. You take the responsibility, and I wash
my hands of the whole business.”

“ All right, colonel. You won’t be bothered
about it inany way.”

The Arkan ans took their victims out of sight
of the marshal and his men, and in a few mo-

family were choked out of existence, at melan—
cfioly but forcible warning to others of their
c as.

To parody Scripture to suit the Arkansas doc-
trine, “ Thoywvho take the horse shall perish by
the halter.” '

Colonel Crampton inquired what had become

ments the remaining members of the Shropshire .

l

l

They are your game, and you caught 7

" An old man dovm there told me about you,
and he described vou both to the ve: y (‘il_‘:7lly.

“What are 1 He accused you of~being thieVes, but of ('(ul'te I

could not believe that."

“Gerald, we owe Colonel Rain; 9 growl turn
for that," remarked Gordon. “ Inks Tal- m“. (bd
this individual ”-——pointing at Ma] 1»: 1’.l;l.llixllu—-
“ know that we were alive!”

“I do not believe he did. It seemed to
me that I frightened Liin putty 112(in when
I told him that l was expecting my Luther.
He supposed that he had mane an end of
Gerald.”

“ How do you know that?”

“ I heard him say $0. At least. he ndn‘it‘ed
as much when I overheard him talking to his
friend who came ashore with us.”

This statement was evideiltzy a suipiise to

l Hamiafin, but not a shock, as he seemed to l ave
i got beyond being shocked, and he narer hung

l

his head and was silent.

“We know that to be a fact, Miss Taleott.”
said Gordon; “but your brother and l have
agreed to forgive this ourg man his (ifl’cines.
V e understand that e saved your life. or

of the third colonel, Colonel Rapp; but the pris- , helped to save it, and all’s well that ends well,

know what had become of him.

He had simply disappeared, and his comrades
declared that they had seen nothing of him since
they began the flight from behind the barricade.

“ that, then, has become of the young lady
who was here?” demanded Colonel Bastrop, who
had been searching in vain for Evu Talcott.

The moonshiner sentry who saw the ghost hap-
pened to be one of the prisoners, and he was
willing to give evidence on this point.

He told when and how the disappearanco of
Eva Talcott and Linda. Shropshire had been dis-
covered, and related his adventures and the con-
clusion at which his comrades hag nrrkilvefii (Em-
cerning it, pointing out the 9.55 y w ic t ey
must have escaped, and addiiig that Mark Han-
nafin had gone out that way to seek for them.

“ You see how it is, father,” said Lawrence
Bastrop. “ If I had gone with Mr. Gordon and
Gerald, as I wanted to, I would have been in
the right place to look for her; but now they
have all the chance.” _

“Lotus hope that they may improve it. my
boy. We have the satisfaction of knowing that
We have kept our end up well.” '

“ If the young lady has gone out that way.”
remarked Colonel Crampton, “ the man I want
must have gone out that way, too, and I must
get him if possible, as he is the head and front
of the offending here. Come on, Louis, and _we
will find all who are missing.” .

The marshal detailed a. sufficient number of
his men for this urpose, and led them into the
little pass, with Bolonel Bastrop and Lawrence.

CHAPTER XXXIII.
A sno'r IN REVENGE.

GRAY GORDON could have jumped for joy at
the unexpected and most welcome information
that came from the lips of I .ivida Shropshire,
and Gerald Talcott was so startled that he actu-
ally did jnm .

“ And so l‘. 158 Talcott is out here in the Woods.”
“ I hope that she is safe and

 

remarked Gordon.
i‘ well.” ’

“She is all right, mister." answered Lind",
“except that she has hurt her foot. You are
her friends, I hope.”

“ Indeed we are, and this young gentleman is
her brother.”

“She has told me of him, and seems to mo
that he does kinder favor her.”

“Lead the way then, my g00d girl, and we
will get to her and help her as 800'! as possible.
If you have proved yourself a. friend to her, I
assure you that you shall lose nothinglby that.
I must ask you to accompany us, Mr. unnafin.
If we find the oung lady safe and sound, we
have no wish to arm you, whatever your inten-
tions may have been; but you must not try to
get away from us.” _ . -\

Mark Hannafln acquiesced in silence, and sul-
lenly walked away with his captors, Gordon

taking the lead with Linda Shropshire, and  nel Rapp.”

Jerry Mabry bringing no the rear.

0n the way, though they all traveled as fast
as the nature of the ground would allow them
t \. Linda found opportunity to give an account
of the escape of herself and her friend, and to
relate what had he pened to them since they
left the camp of t e moonshiners, concluding
with the statement that she had been on her way
to bri help to Miss Talcott when she met Gor-
dog an th: other?l flied t th

va wa  su . a a
return of be frictidiblit); that wrs nothing tz
gar y‘ful surpriie at the sight of Gerald and
or on.

Forgetting her injured ankle for the moment.
she threw herself into the arms of her brother
shedding tears ot love and gratitude, an
thanking Heaven for this most welcome deliv-
erancd. _ ‘

“ I knew
exclaimed.-

l

 

that you would come, Gerald!” she
“Iskuew thatyoo were both

Ix, r.

   

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V__..._. l _ _ __-

 

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oners either did not know, or professed not to you know.”

" It is ending better than I could have hoped
it would, though I have teen greatly sustained
and comforted by the belief that Gerald was
alive. But I am anxious to know what happen-
ed to him. and how he was saved,”

“ Mr. Gordon saved my life,” put in Gn‘ald.
“I was knocked into the river from the Bow-
ena, and would have drov ned there if he had.
not plunged in to help me. He aided me to
reach the shore, and has since been my best
friend and support. I owe him my life and
more than my fe.”

“I am very grateful to you, Mr. Gt rdon,"
said Eva, “and I would like to be allowed to
love on as a father.” )

“ othing would please me better than that
my dear Mm Talcott, and I hope that you will
try to do so. But I must leave you new,”
there are {let seine important matters to l e at-
tended to cm. Our friends are trying to get
into the den of the moonshiners down yo: der,
and I must do what I can to help them at lhts
end. It will not beworth while at In scntto
seek help at that farm—house, as you will be able,
Gerald, with the help of Jerry Mabry. to get
your sister down to the place where we n ct l‘cr
friend. Yet I would be lad to have Jeri? v ith
me, and if I could trust t is young Iran—4”

“ You may trust me therou hly,” answered
Mark Hannafln, who had by t istime l4 (-4 ire ‘
quite broken d0vm and repentant. “ There is-‘ <
L0 more harm in me, I assure you.” ‘

“ I will trust you, then, to do what y" u (an
to repair the mischief you have already done.
Come, J erry.”

Since be ad found the trail wh'ch be son ht,
all was plain soiling for Jen Mabry, am he
castly guided his em lc er own into the lit-
tle pass through whic vs. Talcott and Little.
Shropshire had esoaped.

As they entered it they heard no rerorts of
shots from below, nor any 01 her sounds to

i cause them to believe that fighting was gr'irg ( u

there. though tl ey were surely near enough to
hear them if they were to be heard. I
Eitl‘er their friends had gained a. victmy, (r ‘
had abandoned for a time the attempt to fun ce 3.
wav into the den of the moonshiners. _.
As it could not be supposed that the barrit ades‘ 
had been carried so soon, the latter supposition '
was the more ~ prolal'=le. and in that event it

would be necessary for the two‘seouts to more, ‘

very cautiously, lest they should fall into tte ’
hands of their foes. ,,‘
They did trove cautiously and as silently“,
Wlble, and had got about half-way down the
glen when they caught sight of a man coming
toward them. , «
That is to say. he was not coming toward
them just at that moment. as he had halted and
was looking back in the direction from u hick-he _ .
had come. ‘ .
“ Hide. Jerry i” ordered Gondon. “ It is Colo— , 
Jerry drop
Gordon got ehind a tree, and they awaited
further developments. ' - -'
v‘ Colonel Rnpp walked a little distance further .
down the
back again. . 
‘If the smiling rurty lad rerlly succeeded ,' '
in capturing the resiticn d 'rn there, and if he,
was trying «to escape. he must surer le cra‘ ,
to act in that way. and on a clcs¢ r view of h 3.

wild looks and aimless methods ,Gmdon vosk '

forced to believe that his mind was really on its " ‘

balance. ,
Ashe started forward again. the sound of
voices was board below. on some men came in,
sigth headed by Colonel Crampton. l
“ are be inboys!” shouted the marshal. ’

up and take him! Better surrender 

N
mfiy, colonel, and don’t m5 any more ,

fl

' Colonel Rupp  his hand has?

 

down behind a rock, and: I

 

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' Who is your

 

28

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The Old River Sport.

 

 

turned as if to face and defy his pursners, when
Gordon stepped out from behind his tree, and
Jerry Mabry arose from behind his rock.

“You had better surrender, colonel,” entreat-
ed Gordon, “ and I give you my word as a gen-
tleman that I will pull you our. of this trouble.”
. Again the fu itive turned, and his eyes blazed
its they ligh on this new installment of his

oes.

“ \Vho gave you the right to call yourself a
gentleman!” he fiercely demanded. ‘ Y
a thief, and I know on to be a thief. What is

'our word worth? ot the shaving of a straw.

will make an end of you, anyhow, you dirty
r ‘call”

“ Don’t shoot me!” shouted Gordon, as the
other raised his rifle. “Don’t shoot me, Jim
Hangafin! I am your friend, and want to help

“There it goes again! Here is another of
them! I am no Hannafln. Do you want to drive
me craz i Oh, but I’ll settle you i”

He raised his rifle and fired; but Gordon had
quickly dodged behind his tree.

Colonel Cramptou and his men, not so much
surprised by what had happened beyond them
as interested in the event, were moving up the
pass silently and swiftly, expecting to make the
chief moonshiner a captive before he could do
any damage.

Hardly had he fired at Gordon when a shot
came from that quarter, and he fell without a
cry, face upward on the ground.

’ t is to be ho d that no recording angel took
note of the out that burst from Colonel Cramp-
ton’s lips when be perceived that unnecessary
act of brutality.

“ Who fired that shot?” he demanded.

Nobody answered; but the smoking rifle of
Joe Stemmler and the looks of his comrades told
the story.

“ I will settle with you for firing without or-
ders. If you have killed that man, you shall
suffer for it.”

It seemed that Colonel Rapp was surely dead,
as he la there motionless and blood on his

' forehea showed where the bullet had struck.

Gordon and Jerry Mabry hastened to him,

I and so did the others.

“ The shot was fired in revenge,” said Colonel
Crampton. “ That wretch hada grud eagainst
the man, and has shot him down, t ough he
knew that I wanted to take him alive. He

' ' shall pay for this.” ’

CHAPTER XXXIV.

BESTORED T0 LIFE.

COLONEL CHAMPION and Gray Gordon was
quick to give their attention to the rostrate
man, examining his wound and doing a in their
power to restore him to life.

“ I he he is not dead, colonel,” said Gordon.
“ I won d not have that happen for anything
you could gain by this raid.’

“ I hope so, too,” answered the marshal.

“Perhalpza the bullet has only creased his
w

skull; ill soon tell
on.
“How did you get here Mr. Gordon?” de-
manded Colonel Bastrop as he came up with his
son Lawrence. “Where is Gerald i”

ve him to me, and

“ He is u yonder in the woods with Miss Tal-
cott. ,She safe and well, and you will soon
' seeher.”

This was great news for the Louisianians, and
g were content to wait.
olonel Rapp, greatly to the amazement of

the
‘ _‘ the man who was manipulating his wound, sud-
denly rose to a sitting posture, and the first ob-

Gordon. who

jeot his e es rested on was Gra
is rifle in his

ganglion ng before him with
At first he seemedto be dazed, but directly

as spoke as if he had full control of his 1

es.
“ Well, Holcomb, you shot me,” said he; “ but
I think you aimed a trifle too high. I desarved

' it, as I tried to take an unfair advantage of you.
 and I know that 1 had done you a great wrong.
'Are' «unsatisfied new?”

“ am more than satisfied now, Jim,” on-
swered Gordon. .

“What do on mean?” demanded Colonel
at man did not shoot you, Col-
cool , pg) ”

“ Don’ give me any nonsense, whoever you
are. Who are these people, Holcomb, and how
did they get here. I thou ht I saw my wife
ellol this place seems
to me. What does it all mean?”

“ It means,” said the marshal, “ that I arrest

 ' you, Colonel Rapp, on the charge of manufac-
, tsutzlng ,whisky contrary to the laws of the United

“ Oh, don‘tdrgvome any such nonsense as that.

lonel Rapp? I am Jim Hanna-
.fln, a gay gambolier, and never have anythin
to do with whisk , outside of the samples I go
in the towns on on the boats. What does it
mean, anyhOwi"

“It means, Jim Hannafln,” solemnly replied
Gordon, “ that you have been dead these many
years, and have just come to life.”

Colonel Crampton, perceiving the earnest tone

 I, and dignified manner of his ally, began to b0-

i

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lieve that he was somehow astray, and he also
wanted to know what it all meant.

“ Is there a real mystery here, Mr. Gordon?”
he demanded, “ or are you manufacturing a
mystery for my benefit?”

“I will tell you the plain truth,” answered
Gordon, “ and will leave you to draw your own
conclusions. This man’s real name is Hannafin,
and years ago he was a gambler on the river.
So was I. then I was living at Cincinnati he
did me a great wrong, and I met him in the
night near Covington and compelled him to
fight a duel with me. As he says, he attempted
to take an unfair advantage of me; but I shot
him and left him for dead.

“ I have since learned that he was struck as
he has been to-day, and that he recovered, but
has never since been the same man that he was
before. His ast life was forgotten, and he no
lon er knew his wife and child. He left them,
an began a new life as Colonel Rapp, believing
that to be his name.

“At last, in some manner which I leave the
physicians to explain, though presume that the
circumstance is not an unusual one, his con-
sciousness has been restored, and he takes up
his former life where he left it. Whatever he
may have done in the moonshining way was
done by Colonel Ru 1), who no longer exists, and
I submit to you Co onel Crampton, that James
Hannafin is not responsible for it.”

The marshal pondered this problem a little
while, and then assented to the position assumed
by Gordon.

Doubtless he was glad to find a way of avoid-
ing the performance of an unpleasant duty.

‘ I believe you are right about that.” said
he, “and under the Circumstances I wculd not
be justified in holding the man. But if I let
him go, I ought not to keep these other men,
and so I shall turn them all loose. Of course I
must destroy the still. and I shall give them all
fair warning not to do so any more.”

“ I think you will be doing a just as well as a
merciful deed,” interposed Colonel Bastrop.

“ More equity than law about it, though, I
am afraid, and I don’t know how I shall explain
the affair in my report. Perhaps the easiest
wa will be to say nothing about it.”

‘ Do you want to haul me over the coals for
firin’ that shot?” inquired Joe Stemmler.

“You deserve it, and that’s a fact; but all’s
well that ends well, and you happened to send
a bullet just where it was new 0d, and so we
will call it square." ,

The marshal and his men set at work to de-
molish and utterly destroy the illicit still and
its product on hand and all the materials and
utensils connected with it.

James Hannafin, late Colonel Rapp. who
seemed to have taken a ial fancy to Cramp-
ton, watched this 0 ration as if it was a mat-
ter in which he cou d never have had any possi-
ble interest. , '

Though he was, to all appearance, fully con-
scious and wide-awake to everything about
him, it was equally apparent that he was some-
what mystifled by the position in which he found
himself. and that every now and then something
flamed up to daze and stagger him.

ilethe marshal was attendi to his duties
Gray Gordon was on his wa wit Colonel Bas-
tro and Lawrence, to seek va Talcott.

'llhey found her at the appointed place, whith-

er she had been brought by Gerald with the as-
sistance of Mark Hannafin, who seemed disposed
to do all in his power to atone for his past mis-
deeds.
,She was overjoyed at meeting Colonel Bastrop
and greeted Lawrence with a b ush that was to
him a good augury of more intimate relations in
the future.

“It was very kind of you to come and search
for me, 111 friends” said she, “and I do not
know how can sufficiently thank you.”

“We are more than re aid b finding you
alive and well,” answer the o d gentleman.
“ Of course you understand that your mother
sent us, though we were glad to come, and I be—
lieve that when you reach Memphis you will
find our mother there.”

“ ,ndeedl Thatseemsalmost too good to be

true.

“I had a dimmh from her, not before we
left Memphis, ., 'ng me that she ad heard from
Gerald, and that she was coming on."

“ I have some good news for you, Mr. Hanna-
fin,” said Gordon. '

“ What can that be, sir?” inquired Mark.

“ When you go back down yonder with us,
you will find somebody that you have missed for
a long time. Your father is restored to you.”

“ Are you speaking of Colonel Rapp?”

“ Of the. man who has been known as Colonel
Rapp, but is so no lon er, as he is now James
Hannafin. He has me with an accident—per-
haps I should say with another accident—and
has come back to his old self. Ali’s well that
ends well, you see.” ,

It is easier to tell good news than bad news,
and Gordon found it a difficult matter to inform
Linda Shropshire of the destruction of her fam-
ily; but it had to be done, and he endeavored to
do it with as little shock as possible.

He addressed h It to Eva, knowing well i
that Linda’s ears we take in all he sai

 

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- » I a!) . i ‘1
a H './,, v a  . per/,5 ‘ 'z-a :1 'l’ .,  n. i

I

“ There has been much trouble, Miss Talcott.
down there at the place you left. A part ' of
men who were hunting moonshiners came t ere
with a party wko were huntin horse-thieves,
and they were bound to get in. hey did get in
after a hard fight, and of course some people
were killed in the fight.” .

“ Was my folks killed ’5” inquired Linda.

“ Your mother took a gun and rushedinto the
fight like a man, and she and your fat her “11'?!
killed where the fighting was hardest. Your
brothers escaped there. but were killed further
up by some of the men who were hunting herse-
thieves."

Ho was careful not to say that they had been
taken and han red.

Linda hung, or head for a moment: but, if
she shed any tears, they were “dry " tears.

She had so long lived under the shadow of her
family, that it must have been something like a
relief to her to emerge from it.

“That’s jest what I’ve been lookin’ fur ibis
long time,” said she, “ and I’m only glad it
wasn’t hangin’. lVe’ve been a set 0’ boss-thieves,
and we all deserved haiigin’ long ago. It’s my
turn now. We was all hoes-thieves together. As
you didn’t git a chance to shoot me, you’ll have
to ban me.”

“No ody wants to shoot you or hang you,
Linda dear,” said Eva Talcott, “and you shall
not be harmed in any way.”

“ I don‘t know what’l become of me, then,
now that the rest of ’em’s gone."

“ You shall go to my mother’s house with me,
Linda, and there you will find a IX tier home and
better friends than you have yet known.”

The may proceeded—Eva Sourne ing in the
litter t t had been pre are for ier by her
brotherand Mark Hanna n—dmvn to the recent
camp of the nioenshiners, where Colonel Cramp-
ton had completed the destruction of the dis-
tillers’ apparatus, and prepared for immediate
departure.

The captured moonshiners had already been
sent off, to go whither they pleased, and for the
rest there were plenty of horses.

So they set out, the Arkansas people going di-
rectly home, and the others aiming to strike the
river at the nearest p( int where they would be
likely to get a boat to take them to Memphis.

On the we the late Colonel Rapp was gradu-
ally initiate into his new existence, much of the
information he needed being furnished by his. son,
though Gra Gordon assisted materially, thus
gaining the riendship of the resurrected nzan.

CHAPTER XXXV. .
' A VENGEFUL WOMAN.

MRS. TALCOT’I‘ followed her dispatch to
Colonel Bastiop as soon as she could get away,
and in due course of time reached Memphis.

There she began as soon as possible to ii nice
in uiries concerning the friends who had ]‘l'€-
ce¢ ed her, as well as concerning her mining
children, but without any signal success. as
neither Gerald and his party nor Cclonel Bas—
trop and his arty had made any public declara-
tion of their intentions or departure.

Awoman, and es
spent much of her li e in the country, could not
readily transform herself into a detective bu re an ,
even though ing the advantages which
Mrs. Talcott’s undeniable position would give
her, and considerable time was required to put
herself in communication with people who might

 

~ be useful to her.

She discovered the hotel at which Gordon and
Gerald had stopped. and that which had har-
bored Colonel Bastrop and his son, and at the
former she decided to at u , though she was
careful to leave her adc ress a the latter.

While she was pursuing her inquiries and
awaiting developments, she happened to run
across one of the survivors of the Rowena dis-
aster, who was no other thanHank Byers, who
had givsn Gordon and Gerald the information
that sent them across the river.

Since that time Byershad met Silas Birch,
who had safely emerged from the Shropshire
compalication, and made his way to Memphis.
and irch had im rtcd tohim someintelligence
which he did no hesitate to communicateto
firs2 Talcott, perceiving that she was a lady and

distress.

“ The truth is. Mrs. Talcott,” said he, “ that I
am afraid that Mark Hannafln, thou h he may
be credited with saving your dang ter’s life,
does not mean wall by her, unless an intention
to make her his wife may be considered as
meaning well. It is for that purpose, I judge,
that he has taken her out of the way, instead of
bringin her here.”

“Tha is Very sad news for me, Mr. Byers,”
intimated the lady. ‘

“Well, ma’am, I think that your daughter
may have been saved from any such difficultyas
that by your a on and his friend, to say nothing
of those who must have gone over there after
them. There is another point that I can give

an, and perhaps. it may be useful to you,
hough I must admit that i don’t like to meddle
with such matters as these.”

“ I will be more than grateful. M’r. Byers, for
any information vou may give me.’

“The fact is, Mrs. Talcott, that Mark Han:
nafin’s mother is here in Memphis. She has been

' I

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cially a woman who had ’

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- a friend of your son‘s, who hcl

 

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‘livinghcz'c for some tintc, and I don‘t believe

that she would support her son in at] such
scheme as he seems to bare gonc into. Mr.
Gordon called on her before he left Memphis,
and I have an idea that he get some useful points
from her."

“ Is she a ——a lady?"

“ I suppose she is not “11".: you would call a
lady, as she owns and inns a. gmnbling-house;
but she is a good woman outside of that, and it
seems to me that it would do you no harm to call
and see her. r

“ She would not be likely to murder me,” ob-
served Mrs. Tali-ott wifn a smile.

“ I don’t believe that she Would be inclined to
do any bodily harm to any person.”

The lady was llatul‘llll?’ anxious to do any-
thing and cVerytliing t mt might allay her
anxiety and bring her information concerning
her children, and so she was conducted by Hank

-. B ers to the same house at which behad pre—

Viously introduced Gray Gordon.

Of course she was not taken into the gam-
bling rooms as Gordon had been—indeed, the es-
tabhshment was not in running order at that
hour—but was ushered into a handsome parlor,
where Mrs. Hannafin received her alone.

 

l
l

The two women seated themselves, and men- I

tally took stock of each other after the manner
of women.

Mrs. Talcott had a faint remembrance of the
man Hannafin, but had no reason to suppose
that this bearer of the name had been tangled
u in her at life: while Mrs. Hannafin knew
all about rs. Talcott, and could easily guess
what had brought her there.

The lady from Louisiana explained the par-

of her visit, telling as much of hcr story
as she cared to tell. and tried to come as gently
as sible to the real point of the matter.

0 had been ven to understand, she said,
that Mrs. Hanna n’s son had saved the life of
Eva Talcott, but had then carried her away with
the view of marrying her.

“\Vho told you that?” abruptly demanded
Mrs. Hannafin.

“ The man who brought me here,“ answered
the other, surprised at this harsh and uncom-
promising tone.

“ He must be a fool.”

“Possibly, though he did not seem so to me,
and he told me that ho had his information from
1 him carry my
daughter to the shore, who 10 t him there and
returned to Memphis, arm to whom he had de-
clared his intentions.” _

“ Your information is all wrong, madam.
Whatever Mark Hannafin’s intention may be,
it is not that. If I supposed that a son of mine
could so far forget himself as to think of making
a daughter of yours his Wife, I would follow
him and kill him, if I could stop the scheme in
no other way.”

“ Indeed! I do not understand you.”

“ Do you suppose that [would allow in son
to marry the daughter of the man who illed
his father?”

“ The man who killed his father! What can
you mean? u Why, Colonel Talcott—”

“ I am not aking of any Colonel Talcott,
but of Josiah olcomb." .

“He is dead,” answered the Widow, as her
face fell. .

“ But his evil deed lives after him. He killed
my husband, and I saw him do it. As you are

the first of the race that I have had a chance to V

get even with. I mean to get even with you. ”

Mrs. Hannafin gave point to this statement by
producing a silver mounted revolver.

“ Do you mean to murder me!" demanded the
lady from Louisiana.

“ You may call it that if you wish. Your
husband murdered my husband, and was never
punished for the deed.”

“ Are you sure that Mr. Holcomb killed your
husband 1” . .

Voices were heard in the passage leading to

the lor.

“ t$9.111- right,” said one voice. “ I will find the
wa now.”

‘ Somebody is coming, and I must make an
end of on right now!” fiercely exclaimed Mrs,
Hanna . “I am sure that your husband de-
stroyed the life of James Hannafin, and that he
is {‘orezcr losttonie.”Cl _ u d _ m pod

he oorwas o. ne uw'y.an ms
the man who 1:251 begn known as Colonel

Ra .
seized the belligerent Mrs. Hannafin in a

'lovin embrace, putting a sudden stop to her

warl' e intentions and spoke to her in tones
that were full of affection.

“ tho is lost to you? Not I, you may be sure.
I was lost, but have found myself at last, and
have come home to you, Clara, to begin hfo

in.
“is it really you, Jim? “'hat does this,

mean?”

“ I will explain it to you after a while, with
Mark’s help. This is Mrs. Tali-oft. I suppose, as
I heard that she was here. Madam, you will
find your daughtrr and son at your hotel, where
I left them a little While. ago, and I Wish you
joy of the meeting.”

‘ Thank you, sir: I will go to them at once,”
and Mrs. Taloott hurried away. I

‘.

\

..,‘

_ The Old River Sport.

CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE OLD LOVE.

Mas. TALCOTT found her children at the ho-
tel. as she had been assured she would, and there
was a joyful reunion, which was participated
in b ' Colonel Bastrop and his son.

ll hcn they had put her in possession of the
main points of their several stories by answer-
ing her eager questions, Gray Gordon and Linda
Shropshire were called in and introduced to the
widow.

“This is the gcntlcman,” said Gerald, “who
saved my life and has since been more than a
friend to me. If it had not been for his help we
would not both be here now.”

“ And this,” said Eva, “ is Linda Shropshire.
who was a friend to me when I sorely needed a
friend. She has lost. all her family, and I have
told her that she shall go home With me, and
that we will take care of her.”

“ Indeed she shall ” asserted Mrs. Talcott.
“ and we will do our to help her to lead a
pleasant and useful life. As for Mr. Gordon, I
can only thank him, as I know that 1 can never
repay him for his goodness to me and mine.”

“ If I can have your esteem,” answered Gor-
don, “ with that of your son and daughter, I
shall consider myself amply repaid.”

“You have more than our esteem,” broke in
Eva. “ Gerald and I both love you as if we
were your own children, and we wish that we
might never lose you.”

“I can surely ask nothing better than that,”
he said with a smile.

The next day, while Eva was out shopping for
herself and Linda, and Gerald had gone for a
stroll with Lawrence Bastrop, and Colonel Bas-
tro was attending to the purchase of tickets
an other arrangements for the return tri ,
Gra Gordon and Mrs. Talcott had a long talk
at t 1 hotel. in the course of which they became
quite friendly and confidential.

The conversation which naturally be an with
the adventures of Gordon and Gcral on the
other side of the river. finally reached Mrs. ‘Tal-
cott’s adventure in Mom his, when she was res-
cued from a dan rerous situation by the timely
arrival of Mrs. unnafin’s husband.

“ I had known,” said Gordon, “before Gerald
and I went to search for your daughter, that the
man over there who called himself Colonel Rapp
was Mrs. Hannufin’s husband; but I would
never have supposed that she would try to avenge
herself u a you for an act of which you were
entirely innocent.”

“ Perhaps I was not so imioccnt, after all, as
it was through my fault that m husband at
into that difficulty. I must in cm you, r.
Gordon. that I have been twice married. M
husband at that time was named J osmh Hof-
comb, and be was a gambler.”

“ Indeed! I would not have sup ed—”

“Nor would I, if you will pa on me for in-
terrupting you. I did not know that 1 had
married a gambler, and had no cause to t
it until the truth was forced upon me. My Eus-
band had carefully kept me in ignorance of his
real occupation, and we lived happily in Cincin-
nati with in two children whom you know, and
who were t on infants. until James Hannafin,
one of my husband’s friends, came to me in a
fit of spite and informed me of the wrong that
had been done me. He also proved it by a let-
ter of my husband’s.”

“ Your husband had treated you shamefully,”
observed Gordon.

“ So I belieyed at the time, not reflecting as I
afterward did, that his deception had been
caused by his love for me, and tlmt he had al-
ways been a most affectionate husband and
father. I had been very strictly brought up,
was a church member, and was proud of my po-
sition in society. I only thought of the d
tion that had been racticed on me, and of ta
disgrace to me an my children if the truth
should be made public. I left my husband’s
house almost immediately with my children,
takin care to hide where he could not find me
if be cold seek me.”

“ Did he seek you?”

“ I believe that he was, too proud for that;
but he of course learned who was responsible for
the breaking up of his family, and I now know
how be punished his false friend. I wished that
he had sought and found me, as I need hardly
say 30 you that I bitterly repented of my rash
ac '

“What became of your husband?" inquired
Gordon. ,

“ He went to California, as I was informed,
and died there. ”

“ Are you sure that he died there?”

The Widow was startled and tly agitated
by this question, and stared at he querist as if
she had received a shock that stunned her.

“Am I sure?” she re ted. “ I believed that
I was sure. I was to] so, and my information
appeared to be on good authority. No doubt
had ever oceurrcd to me. What sort of a man
are you. Mr. Gordon? There is something
strange about you, and I cannot make it out.
W\ but do you mean by asking me such a ques-
tion?" ', , _ ' i

“I mean no harm, Mrs. Talcott, and I donot
wish to make any mystery of the matter. The

 

plain truth is that I  acquainted with Josiah

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2

Holcomb on the Pacific Coast. Indeed. he was
my partner, and We grow rich there togethcr. "

“ At gambling!" leebly inqun'cd lil‘r’. Tal-

cott.
“ “'ell. ma’am. speculation in mines and min-
ing stocks does not go by the name of gambling,
though I must admit that it iequires more (:i‘ a
gamlilcr’s skill and shrcwdness 1! an any other
game I know of, and there is: vastly more to lo
won or lost on what may be called the turn of
a card. After all. the strong [oint « t' the game
is found in knowing who to quit. :i d Eclu ab
and I dropped out in {.‘COL d time.”

" “'as that the extent of the gambling 5"

“ There was nothing clvc “ crth mi Dtll ning

“ Did Mr. Holcomb cvcr speak of his past—of
his family?” . .

“ Quite freely, and I knew his entire history.
He felt quite sore ovcr the nanner in whkh hls
family had been brokcn up, and I never heard
him regret the punishmcnt he had inflicted on
the false friend who ruined his home."

“ Yet he must have blamed his wife for it

,1

ice

9,

“ He did not. Though he was greatly grieved,
and wished that she might have waited to give
him a chance to speak and act for himself, he
did not blame her, as he knew that be had de-
ceived her most shamefully. His one desire then
was to become the peasessor of a. fortune. which
he wished to take to his wife and children, hop-
ing that she would finally forgive him.”

“ Forgive him i” exclaimed Mrs. . Talcott.
“ How gladly would she have done so. if she had
had the chance!

“ He did.”

“ And then he died?”

“ He did not die then, and to the best of my
knowledge and belief he has not died since
then.”

“ Mr. Gordon!”

“ I am sure that he was alive and well less
than a month ago.”

Mrs. Talcott’s color came and went as her agi-
tation increa

“ Do “on realize what you are tclliugnze’s“ she
deman . “ If you are not mistaken alout
that my marriage to Colonel Talcott was un-
lawful. .

“ Perhaps it was, strictly srcakmg: but you
were not to blame for that. and flare l:as leen
no harm done. Josiah Holcomb understands it
all, and he would be the last person in the world
to find fault with you.”

“It seems to me, Mr. Gordon. that I have
done him a great wrong, for which 1 can never
sufficiently atone. When and where can I see
him, if at all?”

“ He is very anxious to meet you. and be cc m-
missioned me to make inquiries and learn
whether you would be willing to receive him.
was on my way down the river for that purpose
when I met your son and da
series of eyents began that broug t. as so near

er

5‘ Now that you have seen them and me, Mr.
Gordon, what will you ca to him ’I" l

“ I shall tell him, if I vegour p91 mission,
to visit you at your home. an I am sure that
he will )0 ully hasten to do so.”

“ You ve more than in permission—my
earnest entreaty that you wi add this to your
other acts of kindness. But what will be done
about my marriage to Colonel Talcottl“

“ As he isdead. that can be easily arranged,
I presume. But I would advise you, until you
see Mr. Holccmb or hear from him. to refrain

from mentioning the matter to your children or

to anyhod else.”

“I aha gratefully be guided by your judg-
ment, Mr. rdon.”

As all had been said upon this vital matter
that needed to be said, further conversation
might then have been embarrassing to both:
but the difllculty was avoided by the arrival of
Eva and Linda, quietly followed by Gerald and
Lawrence.

 

CHAPTER XXXVII.
A REAL mansion.

Tm: next day the Tnlcotts and the Bastrops,

accompanied by Linda Shropshire, sped swiftly
away on their homeward journey. .'

Gray Gordon was left behind in Memphis,
and in the evening he and Colonel Crampton
called at Mrs. Hannafin‘s, where they made a

long visit, but did not “tackle” the taro game V

or any other game.

The results of the visit, however, seemed to be
quite satisfactory to thoao concerned, and there
was a friendly parting all around.

A happier familyJJarty than the Talcotts it; v- -

would be hard to flu and their rejoicings aver
their reunion were lively enough to drive from
Linda Shropshire the sad thoughts that afflicted
her since her mmily was swept out of existence.

The only drawback to their loawrc at least
in the minds of the young prep 9, was ound in
the fact that they were not aoooir.

Gray Gordon, to whom Gerald ha taken a.

E23!“ fancy, and who was also highly admired by p ' i
a. .

They were inclined, in a teasinfi'ay, to find
faultwith their mother forvnot havin

He secured the fortune I pro--

hter, and the l V

niul by .- 

 

given * 
Mr. Gordon a sufficiently strenuous an W 

 

 

The oianiyermspgrt.

 

“ Can you guess my message?” he softly iii-

iv EBC)
t _ .---.- -
ing invitation to compel him to accompany them

to 'l‘alcott’s Landmg or to visit them there quired.

shortly.

"I believe I have done all that I could pro-
rly do," she answered, and then she blushed

’:' "{e a girl.
“ Just look at ma!” exclaimed Eva. “ I do
believe that she has fallen in love with Mr.
Gordon, herself.”

‘ I only wish that she had,” responded Ger-
ald. " it is not only because he saved my life
that I am fond of him; but I never met a man
that I cottoned to so completely, and I have
* had a seed chance to find him out, I can tell

ou. would be more than glad to get hold of
1,, im and keep him in one way or another, and it
would suit me ’way down to the ground to be
. step-fathered by him.”
a “You ought not to talk slang, Gerald, and
neither of on should k as you do," sternly
observed rs. Talcott; but then she blushed
again.

During the remainder of the journey she was
’ stran ely preoccupied, and after they reached
their ome she seemed to be so different from
her usual self that the difference was noticed.

Tho h as kind and careful as evernand never
more a ectionate in her manner toward her
,5 children, it was evident that she had thou hts
' of her own in which they were not anew to

share, and frequently she sunk into a reverie
. from which she did not care to be reused.
VJ}, Gerald and Eva said nothing to her about the
;. ' change in her demeanor; but to each other they
l' ‘ , commented upon it freely. '
 “I believe that Ina is thinking of Mr. Gor-
1 f ; don,” observed Eva. “ When his name is men-
'v tioned, it seems to affect her so strangely.”
. “ I will tell you a bit of a. secret about him,”
 . answered Gerald. “ Just before we left Mem-
" phis he told me that a friend of his would be
coming down this way before lon , and that he
expected to accompany him, an might then
visit us.”

“ Maybe ma knows of it. too, and that is what
, she is looking forward to.”

, , So matters went on until ten days had passed
3.. 1' since the return to Talcott’s Landing, and then

a letter came to Mrs. Talcott which Gerald

scrutinized with lively curiosity as he'brought

it from the little post-office.

It was in a man’s handwriting, and the post-
mark was Memphis.

Mrs. Talcott took it to her own apartment
where she read it privately, and she made no
mention of it to either of her children; but she
was evidently agitated, and her agitation in-
creased as the time for the arrival of the semi-
weekly packet approached.

Two days after the arrival of the letter,

- brought the ket, and Gerald was at the land-
ing as us , with most of the people of the
neighborhood, white and black.

Only one ssen er got 03 at Talcott’s Land-
ing-a midi le—age gentleman, tall, fine-looking,

,_ handsomely-dressed, and of really distinguisth
 ; appearance, in when Gerald miv'ht have found
‘it diificult to recognize Gray Gordon, if that
‘- gentleman had not approached him with out.
', - stretched hand and snuling face.

.“l'v'hv, Gerald, have you forgotten me so
soon? I should think that comrades in such a
campai n as we went through would remember

r ear-h ot or for a while.”

“ Forgotten you?” exclaimed Gerald. “ In-
deed I have not forgotten you, and I never

 could; but I was Wondering whether it was

' really you. and I am hardly sure yet. There is
such a. change in you."

“ Only a change in clothes. Fine feathers
make fine birds, you know.”

.1 “ I hope that you have cometo stay with us a
T" long time,” suggested Gerald, as he noticed the
 passenger’s nohby valise.

1»  ' “ I hays come to look you up, as you see, but
 my stay may depend on circumstances.”

'~ . H ‘ If I could control the circumstances, you
would never leave us.”

At the house, while Gerald and his sister Wol-
oomed the guest most heartily. and made rrurh
' . of him. Mrs. Talcott also welcomed him, lut in

" a quieter way, and was stran ,ely reservol and
‘ . timid in his presence, so " crcnt from her
inlaid stately self that the young people began

', , to fear that something was wrong.

' ‘It was Ht for Gordon to dis el the shade
of embarrassment that bad settle on the party.
\ f‘lf you will excuso me. youu poo e, ’ said

,3 , he, " I would like to see our mot Icr a one for a

‘ '1 few minutes. I have a usinoss message of im-

* rtance to communicate to her."

Gerald and Eva exchanged significant glances

 x as they leit the room.

5- “ This is getting on pretty fast,” observed the

r latter. .
'. ' “ Yes,”answered Gerald. “ and I suppose that

mother can control the circumstances he spoke

I

.2/
3 .~

mi”: If «2:. -

 

    
  
  

'1’; ..z

'14": f: '

      

.y.

“ It is a clear case of love at first sight.”

“ That "is whr re the quecrness comes in.”

It was very doubtful at that moment whether
Mrs. Talcott would prove able to control her-
a

l

/

 

. If.

‘4, The color came and went in her face when

 .0 m found herself \alone with Gordon, and she
 ‘  raised her eyes to look at him.

 

 

 

“Is it about your :friend?” she murmured.
“You told me that he was to come with you.
Where is Mr.——Mr. Holcomb?”

“He did come with me. He is here. He
stands before you. Do you not know me yet?”

The next instant she was in his arms, and the
old love was thoroughly renewed. _

“ I knew you when I met you in Memphis,”
she said. “ Not at first—not right away—but
“ hen you told me the story of your friend I no
longer had any doubt.”

I“; 1;"! by did you keep your knowledge to your-
se i

“ I waited for you to declare yourself in your
own way. Now you have done so, and you
must never leave me again. But what shall we
do about it?"

“I have settled that. My name is Gordon
now. All my property is held in that name,

and I prefer to be known by it. Ma me, i

and become Mrs. Gordon, and we need to our
secret to nobody.”

“ Except the children,” she suggested.

“Except the children, of course. and perhaps
one or two special friends. If it should leak
out in the course of time, it will not be very
startling.”

So it was settled. and so it was.

Gerald and Eva were more rejoiced than sur-

I

 

47 NIORTINOALE NAT. ‘Bv T. C. Inc-haugh . . . . .. 50

4‘1 BLACK JOHN, THE ROAD-AGENT. J. E. Badger, Jr 50
49 OMAHA OLL. By Edward L. \1’11celer... . .  50
50 BURT BUNKER. ByCharles  Lasallo. . .  Sc
51 THE BOY RIFLES. By Archie (‘. lron.. . .  5c
52 THE WRITE BUFFALO. By Charles  Lasalle... 50
, 53 JIM BLUDsOE, JR. By Edward L. Wheeler“ . .. Sc
‘ 54 NED HAZEL. By Capt. J. F. (‘. Adams . . . . . . .. be
55 DEADLY-EYE. By Bulm‘o  .‘c
56 NICK WEIERLEs‘s PET. By J. l-'. C. Adams. . .. 5c
57 DEADwoon DICK’s EAGLEs. By E. L.Wlieeler.. 50
58 THE BORDER KINu. By 01] (‘ooines . . . . ..  5c
59 OLD HICKORY. By Barry St. (irol‘gr‘ . . . . . .. 5c

 

prised by the turn the aflair had taken, and .

the little gosst that arose soon died away, the
ossips agreeing that the affection of the young
‘alcot ts for their stepfather was something mar-
velous.

As Eva was by hat time engaged to Lawrence 3

Bastrop, it was ne0essary to let aim into the
family secret, and he took an unfair advantage
of it in pressing her for a speedy marriage.

“ As your pa and ma have gone and got mar-
ried," said be, “it would be a shocking instance of
disrespect on our art to hesitate any longer
about following their example.”

Of course Eva could not be guilty of disrespect

-' 92 CANADA

to her parents, and so there was another wedding, ,

and a more brilliant one, at Talcott‘s Landing.
en Jim Hann'ifln attempted to take 11 is
tools, he discovered that he was no longer tted
for it; that his hands had lost their cunning, and
that gambling had lost its attraction for him.
As he was unwilling to live on the proceeds of
his wife’s “ business.” and as she was quite will-

ing to abandon it and enterh more reputable oc- '
cupation, he purchased, With the assistance of ‘

Gray Gordon, a tract of land -near Talcott’s
Landing and settled down as a planter.
Mark Ifannaiin settled down on the land with

his parents, and took a lively interest in Linda I
Shropshire, who had developed into a handsome -
young woman, and who had gained largely in i
every way by he' association with her new;

friends.
At one time he feared that Gerald Talcott
might be his rival; but Linda’s

reference for 1

him was so manifest that lie aske her to change 3

her name to his, and she readily consented.
THE END.

 

BEADLE’S

 

Half-Dime Library.

1 DEADWOOD DII‘K. Bv Edward L. Wheeler 
2 YELLOWETONI: JACK. Bv Jose )Il E. Badger, Jr...
3 KANSAS KING. Bv Bull’alo ill . . . 
4 THE WILD-House Hi'NTnRs. By Mayne Reid...
5 VAOAIIOND Jon. By Oil Coomes. . .. . .
n BILL BIDDON. ’l‘RA FREE. By Edward S. Ellis...
’7 TIIE FLYING YANKEE. By 001. Ingrhham... 
8 SETH JONIts. By Edward 8. Ellis . .. ,_ 
9 THE Anvnsnvmzs or BARON MUNCRAusEN... 
10 NAT TODD. By Edward S. Ellis .   .
11 THE TWO DETEcrIvEs. By Albert W. Aiken...
12 GOLLIvm‘s 'I‘iiAVELs. .  . . . . .. .
13 7m: DUMB SPY. By 011 0011103.. . .. . . . . . . . . . ..
14ALADDIN... . . . . .. ...  ..
15 Tm: SEA CAT. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 5c
16 RORINsON (‘RI'sOE . .   .. 5c
17 RALPH ROY. By Col Prentiss Ingraham.  to
1‘1 SINDDAD TRE SAILOR... .  b
19 THE PHANTOM SPY. Bani‘l’nloBm .
211 THE DOI'RLE DAGGERs.
21 FRONTIER ANGEL. By Edward 8. Ellis .. .
22TH: SEA SERRERT.
23 NICE 0’ THE NIORT. By '1‘. C. Hm‘baulzlh.  5c
M DIAMOND DIRK. By Col. Premise Ingraham... 5c
25 THE BOY CAPTAIN. By Roger Star-Duck

21,1 CLOVEN "0011‘, THE DEMON. By
27 ANTELOI'F.’ ARE. THE BOY Gl'IDE. ll Coomes .. 50
2‘5 BUFFALO BEN. By Edward L. \ .hceler .  5c
29 THE DI'MH PAGE. By Capt. F. Whittaker-.. 5c
80 ROARINO RALPH ROCKWOOD. By H. St. George. 5c

518888;“.‘8'8‘8'8‘8'8'8'8

81 KEEN-KNIRE. ByOIl Coomes   be
32 BOD WOOLR. By Edward L. Wheeler  be

.

33 THE OCEAN BLOODROUND.
84 OREGON $01.. By Capt. J. F‘. C. Adams...
85 WILD IVAN. By Edward Lgl'Vht-eler .. , .

36 THE BOY CLOWN. By Franks. Firm .. .
87 THE HIDDEN LODGE. By '1‘. C. Harbaugb .. .. 5c
38 NED WYLDE. By Texas Jack .. ,. so
810 DEATH-FACE. TIIE DETECTIVE. Bylf. L. Wheeler 5c

  

40 ROVINO BEN. By John J. Marshall.   5c
41 LAsao JACK. - Bv Oll Coomos  5c
42 PHANTOM MINER. By Ed. L. Wheeler. be

:2 Rio: iunifim. ago I. Fnzlerg‘k Whittaker 50

TTLINO URE. v arrv . t. ' rge  5c
45 OLD Ammonia. By, Edward L.8{7Vheeler.... 5c
46 Guns-EYE. By Capt. J. F. 0. Adobe. 5c

   

E. L. Wheeler.. 5c :

‘100 DEADWOOD DICK IN LEADI'ILLR.

60 THE WHITE INDIAN. Br J. F. C. Adams.  5c

61 BI'CEEORN BILL. By Edward L. Wlweler  be

62 THE SHADOW e‘mr. By Col. P. ingraham... .. 5c
63 THE RED BROTHERROOD. By W. J. Hamilton 5c
64 DANDY JACK. By '1‘. C. IIarhaugli. . . . . . .  .. 5c
65 HURRICANE BILL. Bv Jos. E. Badger. Jr  be
66 SINGLE HAND. Bv W. J. Hamilton . . . . . . . . . . .. 5c

67 PATENT-LEATHER JOE. By l'hili S. Wame... 5c
68 THE BORDER RODiN HOOD. By iuflalo 13111....
60 GOLD RIFLE. By Edward L. Wheeler . . . . . . . ..
70 OLD ZIP‘s CABIN. By J. F. C. Adams...  . ..
71 DELAWARE DICK. By 011 Coomes...  .. . ..
72 MAD TOE WESTERN. By W. J. Hamilton... . ..
73 DEADWOOD DICK ON DECK. By E. L. Wheeler..
74 HAWK-EYE HARRY. By 011 Coomes. . . .  
75 THE BOY DrELIsT. By Col. P. lngiaham 
76 ARE COLT. TIIE CROW KlLLl-‘R. By A. W. Aiken.
77 CORDUROY CHARLIE. By Edward L. Wheeler..
7.9 BLUE DICK. By Captain Mayne Reid . .
79 SOL GLNOEE. THE GIANT TRAPPER. A.W. Aiken
SK) ROSEBCD ROE. Bv Edward L Wheeler 
81 LIGHTNING JOE. By Captain J. l“. C. Adams. . .
HAREFOOT. Bv T. C. llnrlmugh. .. 
83 ROLLO, THE BOY ANGER. BvOll Coomes ..
84 IDYL. THE GIRL MINER. Bv F11. L. Wheeler ..
85 BBC! BUCKRAII. By Captain J. F. C. Adams...
86 DANDY ROCK. By G. Waldo Blowne  . .
87 THE LAND PIRATES. By Capt. )lm'ne Reid...
89 PHUI‘OGRAPH PHIL. By Edward L‘. Wheeler...
81) IsLAND JIM. By Bracehridge Hemvng . . . . . . ..
90 Tm: DRRAD RIDER. By G. Waldo Browne. ..
91 Tm: CAPTAIN OF THE CLUB. By Bmcebridge
Hemyng . . . . . .. ‘ , . .. . . . . . . ..
CRET. By Edward L. Wheeler... . . . .
93 THE BOY MINERs. By Edward S. Ellis .. ..
94 MIDNIGHT JACK. By T. C. Hui-haul:  .
9:”) THE RIVAL RovERs. By I ieni. Co . Hazeltine.
96 WATCH-EYE. By Edward L. Wheeler. . . . ..
97 THE OrTLAiv Buo'i‘Hnns. ly J. J. Marshall. '
9% ROBIN HoOD. BY Prof. <lmrnrt (iddersdceve...
99 Tm: TIGER or TAos. By George W. Browne...
RV Wheeler.
101 JACK HARKAWAY IN NEW YORK. By Bruce-
hridge Hemvng. . . . . .. . . . . . 5c
102 DICK DEAD-EYE. By (‘< l. l‘I'mviii-‘s Incrahnm . be
103 THE LION on THE RICA. 17y (‘01. Delle Sam . be
104 DEADWOOD DIi'R‘s Diaries. By l-‘d. L. Wheeler. Sc
1% OLD RUBE.TBE HL‘NTFB. l’yt'npr. H. Holmes . 5c
106 OLD FROSTY. THE GrInE. li)‘ T. C. Uni'bnugli.. 5c
10? ONE-EYED Sm. By J. 1.. l‘om-n . ..  So
108 DARINO DAvv. By llarrv Ft. (Home. . . . no
109 111-:onva DICK As Ieri‘t'lii'n. BY Wlici‘ler be
110 THE BLAcR STEED or 'l'l‘l' l‘irAIi ms. ll): L‘owen re
111 Tar. SEA-DEVIL. By (Kl. Prentiss Ingrahann. 50
11:! THE MAD HUNTER. By Burton Saxe  Go
113 JACK BOYLE. By Edward L. Wine-Pier" . . be
114 Tm: BLACK SCHOON“B. l‘y lit cor Slarhnck... So
115 THE MAD MINI-1R. By G. “aldo Browne . . . . .. be
116 Tm: HrssAR ('AI’TAIN. Ry (fol. P. Incrnbam. 5c
11? GILT-Emmi DIcK. ly Edward L. Wlswlor... 50
111! WILI Somalis. THE BOY l irrni'irn-t. By Morris.. 5::
c
be
5e
5e
5e

88‘88'8'8'8'8'8888833838888888‘8‘8‘8’8’8‘

8'8'8'8'8'

110 NmTANo SAIL Br Joe. L. lladiter. Jr . . . . . . .. 5
120 Tim BRANDED HAND. By Fmka ltiiniont ....
121 CINNAMoN ("um Hy Fizwnrd 1.. Wheeler...‘...
1'39. PHIL l’IARiir. Tm: Pow. L'UY. {v Chas. Mun-ls.
By T. C. IIill'I‘allgll . 
124 'l‘nnw, Tu : TEXAN. By George Gleason . . . . .. 5c
1'25 BONANzA BILL. MINER. Bv TC. L. Wheeler...“ 50
126 PICAYI‘NE PETE. By Charles Morris. . . . . . . . . .. 50
121’ WILD-Emir. Br li‘rcnk Dunmnt . . . . . . . .. . 5c
129 THE Yoe'NO PRIVATEI-tn. By Barry Cavendish. 50
129 DEADWoon DIcK‘sliorrLR. By  L. Wheeler. Ec
180 DETECTlVE DICK. 33‘ C ark-s Morris . . ~50
131 THE GOLDEN HAND. By George W. Browne. to
132 THE HI'NTlZD lli'NTER. By l'Tilwm-d S. Ellis... 5c

1753 KIOWA (him I 211'.

, 133 Boss Eon. Bv Edward 1.. Wheeler . . . . . . . .. 50
, 131 SL‘RE~QIIOT SETH. By 011 ('rmmes . . . . . . .  50
135 CAPTAIN PAUL. By 1‘. D. Clark . . . . . . . . . . .. 5c
1311 NIGHT-HAWK KIT. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr. . .. 5c

‘ 140 Ber. Bums.

\ 16? WILL WIIIDRIRE [‘7 Tan: WOODR.

Bv R. W. Pierce. . 5c 1

. . .. ... ‘ 7
By Ed. L. 1Vheoler.. .. 5c 1 1"? BLACK BESS'
Bv (W Juan I is  55g  151 TEE SWORD-HUN'HM. By .‘opt.F.Whlttakor

1137 Tim Hunts-ms HAND. By ('ript. Mayne Reid. be
1:19 Bum-m: Rm. By Edinaid L. Wheeler .... ..
1311 Jl'DGl-Z LYNCH. JR. l‘y T. (‘. Horhaugh .
By l"mnk Dinnom .. .
141 SOLID SAN. By Edward L. Wheeler . . .
142 HANDsOME HARRY. l‘y (lax-lee Morris . . . . ..
143 SCAN-FACE SAI'L. Br (‘ll (‘oomes 
144 DAIer LANCE. Tor For SPORT. Bv Badger.
145 CAPTAIN FERRET. By Edward L. W celer..

146 vam STAR. By Oll Coonres.......  
117 WILL WILDI‘IRE. By (‘linrles Morris . . . . . . . . .,
148 SHARP SAM. By J. Alexander Patten. ..
119 A GAME or GOLD. By l‘dwnrd L. Wheeler...
150 LANCE AND LAsso. By Capt. F. Wliittaker....
151 PANTHER PAUL. By oscph E. Badger, Jr....
By Charles Morris   ..
By 01] Coomes.

0'
G

   

gas

888'?

153 EAGLE Krr. THE BOY DEMON.

155 GOLD TRIGGER. By 'I‘. C. Harbaugh.. ..
156 DEADwoon Dim: or Dr.) Dwoon. By Wheeler.
157 MIKE MERRY. By (Nu-leg Morris .
1m FANCY FRANK or Common. B Buffalo Bill..
THE LOST CAPTAIN. By Fred. 'hittaker.....
160 THE BLACK GIANT. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr...
161 NEW YORK NELL. By Edward L. Wheeler .

By 0. Morris.
163 LITTLE Taxis. By OllCoomes . . .. . ..
11H DANDY ROOR’s PIFDG‘F. Bme. W. Browne.
1 a BILLY BAOOAOE. THE RAILROAD BOY. Morris”
166 HICKORY HARRY. By Barry St. George. . . 
4'87 AHA SCOTT. By Edward “illett . ..
16‘! DEADLY Disn. Br Joseph E. Bad er. Jr. ..
169 TORNADO TOE. Bv T. C. Harhaug . .. .. 
170 A TRUMP CARD. By Charles Morris... . . . . . . . .y
171 EDONY DAN. By Frank Dumont .....  . . . . ..

.A
{I
3

'l

A new issue any Tuesday.

The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all
Newsdealcrs, five cents per copy. or sent by mail
on receipt of six cents each BEADLE & ADAIS.
Publishers, 98 William street, New York.

~8518333838838ssssssssssssss

 

 

u...’

t

M

_ wild-r,»

«
. \

 

 

 

=ilBiEiAiiJTfTE its tatn_t1_l,m_lnl=l riff i B I R IAIVR I 

40 The Long Haired “ Pards ;” or, The
'l‘nrt'trs of the Plains. BE Joe. E. Badger, Jr.

41 (.‘old Dan; or. The W itc Savage of the Great
S'Jl' Lake. By Albert \V. Aiken. .

42 The i‘alii'ornla Detectivo-; or. The Witches
of N or York. By Alb-rt W. Aiken.

43 Dakota Dan the Reckless Ranger; or. The
Bac-liunt ‘rn‘ Excursion. By Oil Gnomes.

44 old Dan RackhackJno-urear Exmrmina-
tor: or, The Triangle‘s Last Trail Oll Coomes.

45 Old Bull’s I‘ZEP the LiL'htning Shot of the
Plains By Joa. ‘. Badger. Jr.

46 Buu'le-Knil‘c "en, the Little Hunter of the
NON-West. By 0‘] Gnomes.

47 Pacific Pete, tn- Prince of the Revolver. By
Jose h E. Badger, Jr.

48 Ida I0 Tom, the Youn Outlaw of Silverland:
or. the Hunters oftne \\ il Wt st. BlelCoomes.

49 The \Voli‘ Dclnun. By Albert \V. Aiken.

50 Jack Rabbit, the Prairie Sport. By Joe.
E. Bad .r, Jr. ‘

51 lled oh, the Boy Road-Age.;t. By 011
Coomes.

52 Death Trailer. the ('llief of Scouts; or. Life
and Love in a Frontier Fort By Buffalo Bill.

53 silver Sam' or, The Mystery 0t Deadwood

Cit . By Col. clle Sam.

54 , lyways On Hand. By Philip S. Wame.

55 The Scalp Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

56 The Indian llnchpa; or, The Madman
of the Plains. By A. \i . Aikm.

57 The silent Iluntm" or. The Scowl Hall
Mystery. By Percy B. St. 01m.

58 Silver Knife; or, \\ iekliife, The Rocky
Mountain Ranger. By Dr. J. ii. Robinson.

59 The Man From Texas; or, The Outlaws
of Arkansasx. By A. W. Aiken.

60 “'lde Awake the Robber King; or, The
Mint 0! the Black Hills. By Frank Dumont.

61 x(3'aptain Seawall, the Privateer. By Ned

untline.

62 Loyal "cart; or, The Trappers of Arkansas.
5;.- ustave Aimard.

63 The “'lnzcd “’hale. By A. W. Aiken.
64 Double-Sight, the Death Shot: or, The Out-
law of the Chaparral. By Jon E. Badger. Jr.

65 The Red anuh‘ or. The Scourge of the

Mines. By Capt. F. B'hittaker.
66 The \‘pcctcr Barquc. By Mayne Reid.
67 The Boy Jockey. By Jon. E. Badger. Jr.
68

to th - Rescue. Br Captain J._ F. C. Adams.
69 The lrlnh Captain. By Capt. F.\\'hittakcr.
Mydrahad, tne Strangler: Ur, Alt-the, the
(‘hil I of the U ml. By Dr. J H. Robinson.

( uptain Fool-Blade; or. The Man-Shark
of the )Iis<is.<ippi Bv Jos. E. Badger. J r.

71

72 The Phantom lland‘ or, The Heiress of ‘

Fifth Avenue. By A. W. Ai 'en.
The Knights of the that Cross; or, The
Mll‘ZlCllll of Granada. By Dr. J. H. dobinstm.

73

J
.6-

of the Lake. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
Gentlcnlan George. By A. W. Aiken.
The Quccn’n Musketeers! : or. Thisbe. the
Princ «s Palmist. By George Albany.

The Fresh ol‘ Frisco. By A. W. Aiken.
The. ~le’illt'r10Il s )y. By A. BI. Grainger.
Joe Plienlx. the Poi on S- '5'. By A.W. Aiken.
A )lan ol' Nervv. By Philips ane.
The lluman Tiger; or. A Heart of Fire.
By Albert W. Aiken.

Iron “'riut. the Swordmaster.
Thomas How-r Monster-y.

3 Gold Bullet Sport. By Buffalo Bill.

mac-14a Alt»!
wows-1 a"

on
N

Dr Albert \V. Aiken.
5 The (Yrctan llovcr;

Beautiful. Bv Col. Prentiss lmrrahnm.

86 The Big Ilnntcr; or The nern of the
Woods. By thenuthor of “ Thu Si ent Hunter."

87 The Scarlet (‘aptain ' or, The Prisoner of
the Tower. By Col. llellc . ra.

88 “12 George, the Giant of the Gulch: or. The
FiVe Outlaw Brothers. By Joseph E. Badger. Jr.

89 The Pirate Prim-c. By Col. P. linzraham.

90 \Vlld \Vlll, the Mari Ranchcro; or. The Ter-
rlhle Texans. By Buckskin Sam.

91 The \Vinning Oar; or. The Innkeeper’s
Daughter. By Albert W. Aiken.

92 Bullan “III. the Buckskin King: or, The
Amazon of the West. ByMaj. Dangerfield Burr.

93 (‘u itain Dick Talbot. Kinz of the Road;
or. he i luck-Hoods of Shasta By AW. Aiken.

94 Freelance. the Buccaneer: or. The Wait of
the Wave. 'By (fol. Prt-n'isil lnmham.

95 A zhort, the Axman: or. The Secrets of the
Ducal PJlucu By Anthuny 1’. Morris.

96 DoublmDeath : or. Th - Spy Queen of Wyo-
ininc. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

97 Bronze Jack. the California Thoroughbred.
Iiy Albert \V. Aiken. .

98 The Rock Rider: or, The. Spirit of the
Sierra. By Cl t. Fr- dew-in Whittaker.

99 The (.‘iant iiicmnn. By Oil Gnomes.

100 The ll'rcnt-h va; or, The Bride of Paris.

101 By Anthony P. Morris.

The Man From va York ; or. The-Bo.
mane» of a Rich Young “’omnu. BV Aiken
102 The Masked Build; or The llian With-
out a Name. By George L. Aiken.
103
the Rod Anchor, 1}" Col Prentiss ingraham.
"HIIII'ZIIIIIR. the RIM-c ilean' or. The
l 05 Dan Brown nl Dclu'er the Rocky Moun-
tmn Detmctivm By Juno-p]:  Badger. Jl‘.
ni. By 001. Belle Sara.
107 ichard Talbot 01‘ Cinnabar; or.The

varle. the. Matinee-r; or. 'i‘ne Brand of
104

Rule and lhe Serpent. By Col. P. fncmlmm.
106 Shaman O’Brien, the Mould Boy of Glin-

Brothers of the Red Band. By A. W. Aiken.

 

The Fighting: Trapper; or. Kit Carson 3 134

The ('aptain oi'thc Otiilcs; or. TheQueen '

i 1 40 The Three tapanlao ds.
qullyux Tom, the iilly of Red Rock; or, ;

By Colonel -

Hunted Down; or. The L.-ague of Three. ‘

or. Zulcikah, the'

 

1 08 The Duke ol‘Diamondn; or. The Flower
of Calcutta. By Captain Frederick Whittaker.

109 i'aptain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag.
By Col. Prentiss lngrahmn.

1 1 0 ' he silent Hillclnan. By H. W Herbert.

1 l 1 The Smuggicr (‘a itain; or, The Skip-
per’s Crime. By Ned untline.

112 Joe I’IH‘IIIX i'rivale Detective' or. The
League of the Skeleton Keys. B ' A.  Aiken.

113 The Sea Slip er ' or. The mateur Free-
bootcrs. By Pro . J.  Ingraham.

114 The Gentleman From Pike° or. The
Chest of the Canyon. By Phili S. me.

1 15 Thu- Severed [load ' or. he Secret of
Castle Couev. By Capt. Bred. Whittaker.

l 16 Black Plume, the Devil of the Sea. By
Col. Prentiss inzmham.

1 1 7 Dani-in Dandy the Hotspur of the Bills.
By Mafir angerfleld Burr.

118 The urglar (‘1: twin; or, The Fallen
Star. By Prof. J. H. n raham.

119 Alabama Joe; or, he Yazoo ManoHun-
tern. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

120 The Texan Sp ; or. The Prairie Guide.
Bv Newton M. Cu is.

1 21 The Sea Cadet ; or. The Rover of the Rigo-

litts. By Col. Prentiss Inzraham.

1 22 S» III Sa bbcrday, the idiot Spy; or, Luiiona,
the Seminole. By Red Buntline.

123 Alapaha, the S naw; or. The Renegades
of the Border. By rancis Johnson.

124 A nsowaum, the A Vcnzcr: 0". The
Doom of the Destroyers. By Francis Johnson.

125 The Blacknnith Outlaw; or. Merry
England. By Harrison Ainsworth.

126 The Dclnou Ducllnt; or. The League of
Steel. By Col. Thomas lloycr Monstery.

127 *0] Scott, the Mask! d Miner; or, Dan
Brown‘s Double. ByJos. E. Badger. Jr.

128 The Chevalier (Tori-air. By the author
of "Merle the Mutineer,"

129 Milslunlppl Mono or, A Strong Man‘s
Sacrifice. By Edwai‘d\ illett.

1 30 (‘aptaln Volcano or, The Man oftheRed
Revolvers. By A. W. l ikcn.

1 31 Buckskin Sam, the Tt'X'lS Trailer; or. The
Bandits ot’ ths. Bravo. Bv Col. 1'. Ingraham.

132 Neill". Kingr oi'tthraInps. By Capt.
Frederick Whittaker.

133 Rody the Row-r the Ribbonmau of Ire-
lnnd. . \' William Caricton.

Durkie Dan, the Colurwi D-‘it t-tivc: or, The

MiSwixsippi Mystery. By Col. l’ liwrahnm.

1 35 The llunh “zinger; or, The Half-Breed
Brigade. liy Francis Johnson

1 36 The Outlaw- ll llntcr', or, End John, the

Bush Rama-r. By Frumis: Jiliillst‘n.

137 Long Board, the Giant Spy. By Oil
1 Gnomes.
‘ 138 The Border Bandit-4: or. The Horse-

'l‘hicf’s Trail. By Francis Johnstm

139 Fire-Eye. the See live-nu: or The Bride of ‘

a But-cam er. By (,‘ol. Prentiss Inga-iron.

141
By Joseph. E.

Dan Brown‘s Masterstroke.

Bwlgcr. Jr.

142 "aptain Crimson. the Man of the Iron
F‘nce. By Maj. Daugeitieltl Burr.

143 The Czar’n Spy ; or, The Nihilist League.
Br Col. '1‘. H. Monstut‘y.

144 The Hunchback of Notrc-Damc.
By Victor Hugo.

1 45 Pistol l’ardu ' or, Soft Hand, the Silent
S ort from Cinua nor. By Wm. B. Eyster.

146 The Doctor Detective ; or, The Mystery
of the Holden Collin. By Geo e Lemue .
l; old Spur the Gentleman rout Texas. By
Col. Prentiss ngraham.
{inc-i rmcd All” the Giant Hunter of the
Great Lakes. By Oil Coomcs.

149 The Ilordcr Hillel. By Gustave Almard.

0 I‘ll Ru hlo Bravo, King of the Swordsmen.
By Col. Thomas Ion'choiistei'v.

1 The Freebootere. By Gustave Aimard.

1 (‘aptain Ironnerve, the Counterfeiter
Chief By Marmaduke Dev.

3 ’l‘he “'hitc Scalper. By Gustave Aimard.
Joaquin, the Saddle King. By Joseph B.
Badger. Jr.

The (tor-air (green; or. The Gipsies of
the Sea. By Col. .ntiss In raham.
Velvet Face, the Border l rave; or. Muriel,
the Danite's Bride. By Dangerfield Burr. .
Mourad, the Mamclnke; or. The Three
Swordmasters. By Col Thomas H. Monstery.

158 The Doomed Dozen; or. Dolores. the
Dnnite‘s Dauchter. By Dr. Frank Powell.

159 Red Rudiger, the A'cher- or. The Lady
Bertha’s Treachery. By Capt. . Whittaker.

160 Soit Hand, Sharp; or. i‘he Man \\ ith the
Sand. B ' Wm. B. Eystpr.

161 The \1 olch of New York; or. Joe
Phenix's Great .‘iau Hunt. By A. W. Aiken.

162 The Mad Mariner: or. Dishonored and
Disowned. By Col. Prentiss lnmnham.

163 Ben Brion, the Trap er Ca min: or. Red-

ath. the Av. ricer. By 1'. J. . Robinson.

164 he King’n Fool or. The Knights of the
Claspcri Handsnnd Branch. ByC D.Clark.

1 65 Joaquin, the Terrible. By J. E. Bad er. Jr.

166 Owlct, the Rot-her Prince: or. The U ' own
Hichxvnyman. By S pvimus R. Urban.

1 67 The Man of Steel ; or, The Masked Knight
of the \Vltite Plum». BV A. 1’. Morris.

168 “'iid Bill. tho I’istnlbead Shot: or. Dagger
Don's Double. By Col. Prentiss inmham.

169 (‘orporal Can non. the Man of Forty Duels.

y Col. Thomas Hoyer Mourtery.

170 Sweet 'William, the Trapper Detective.

By Jon. E. Badger, Jr.

 

By (.‘cO. Walker. i

228

 

'fi

 

 

“——-1

1'71 Tiger Dick, the Man of the Iron Heart; or.
The Dumb Ba .Jit. By Philip S. Warne.

172 The Black Pirate; or The Mystery of
the Gol en Fettere. By Col. P. Ingraham.

173 (‘nlii‘ornia John, 1h.- Pacific Thorough-
bred By Albert W. Aiken.

174 The Phantoln Knights. By Capt. F.
Whittaker.

175 “'ild Blil’u Trump («HP or. The Indian
Ileirms. By Major Dangerfield Burr.

176 Lady Jaguar, the Roubrr Queen. ByCap-
tain Mark Wilton.

177 Don Diablo, the Planter-Corsair; or, The
Rim]: of the Sea.  (.‘oi. Prentiss In

178 Dark Dunlnvoo .the Desperate; or, The
Child of the Sun. By Major 5am S. Hall.

179 I‘onrad. the (‘olfl'lt‘l; or. \‘- as lie Guilty!
By Prof. Stewart Gildcrsleeve, LL. D.

180 ()Id ’49; or. The Amazon of Arizona. By
J08. E. Badger, J".

181 The Scarlet Schooner: or. The Nemesis
of the Sea. By Lot. Prcu‘iss Ingraham

182 Hal-dc I} I; rr. The Knights of the Canyon.
By Wm. R. yster.

183 Gilbert, the Guide; or. Lost in the Wil-
derness. By C. Dunning Clark.

184 The ocean \‘am ire; or, The Heiress of
Castle Curse. Bv Co . Pr- ntia< Ingraham.

1 85 The Man Slpider; or, The Beautiiul Sphinx.
By Anthony Morris.

186 The Black Bravo; or. The Tonkaway’l
Trinm h. Bv Buckskin Sam.

187 The cat 95 Head (‘uirasnierq or,
Brave 0 all Braves. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

188 The Phantom Machpa; or, The H can
of the Che )arrals. By Maj. Dangerfield .

189 “’Ild Bi in; Gold Trail ' or. The Desper-
ado Dozen. By Col. Prentiss’lngraham.

190 'ghc Three Guardunten. By Alexandra

umas

1 91 Thc Terrible Tonkawa ; or. Old Rocky
and Ills Pardsx. By BuckskinySam.

192 The Lightning Sport. By W. R. Eyster.

1 93 The Man in Red. B Capt. F. Whittaker.

194 Don Sombrerofihe alit'omia Road Gent.
By Capt. Ivlnrk Wilton. '

195 The I one fitar Gambler; or, The Maid
l t' the Magnolias. Br Buckskin Sam.

196 Ln .‘Vl nrntom‘t the D tective Queen' or,
The Lmt new of .Iorel. By Albert w. Aiken.
Revolvm' 1101), the Red-lianded; or, The
B iii of Nutrget Camp. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
The Skclclon Schooner; or. The Skim-
m-r or the Sea. B ('ol Prentiss Ingraham.
Diamond Dic (. the Dandy from Denver.
By Bli"i‘5i2ln Sam.

200 'l‘lu- Itiilc “zingers. ByCapt MayneReid.
The Pirate oi‘thc Plan-rs; or. Joaquin‘! .
Duzuh ilunt. ByJHSep’v E. Badger, Jr.
Cni‘ll'n' Jack. the Giant Guide. By Capr
tnin Mark \Viltou.

5103 Th:- lx-ouhlc Detective. By A. W. Aiken.
Big Foot “'allacc, the Kins: of the Lariat;
n, i m Walt, the Waco. Bv Buckskin Sam.

7 The (-‘nmhlcr l'lrn to. By Col. Ingraham.

206 (me Eye, the Cannoneer; or. Marshal Key‘s
Lvs' Ix'cru‘v. By Capt. Fred. Whittr-ker.
"id Hard “end. By Philip S. Wat-he.
The “'hilc Chief. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
lint-k Farley the Bonanza l’rircc; m- The
Romance of D‘ n h Gulch. By Edward Willi-(t.
Btu-canccr Benn. the Lioness oi“ the 5m;
or, The Red Sea Trail. By l‘- l. P. lncrnl mu.

By Carl: Fn-c-Irick littaker.
'l‘hc Brazen Tigers. By Buckskin than.
The “'ar Trail.

209
210
I 211 (‘olonci l'lunger‘gor. The Unknown {4; or:.
212
2].;

By Cagf. M8} he Reid

21! The 'E‘u‘o (‘00! S ol'tl. y Wm. B. E] Rte?

215 Parr-nil Jim, Km: of the Cowboys. By
(‘2; tein Frederick Whittaker. .

216 The ('ornair Planter; or. Driven in
Doom. By Col. Prentiss ingraham.

217 The Serpent ol‘ 1C! Patio; or. Fi‘f‘nl’i r

Frr nk, the Scout of the Rio Grande. By Buck
skin Sam. *

2 1 8 The “'Ild "mun-en; or. Tl-e Bic aquat-
ter's Vengeance. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

219 The Scorpion Brothewiznor, Mad'l‘om’e» 
on. 

illusion. By Cantain Mari. ,
220 The S‘prctcr Yacht. By Col. P. Ingrehsm.
221 Dcupcralc Dukc the Guadeloupe “Ga-
loot." By Buckskin in. ~
222 Bill. the Blizzard. By Edward Willett.
223 ('enynu Pave tlw Man of the Mountain.
By Cu :tain Bistrk’Wilton.
224 lilac Board, We Buccaneer; or. The
(‘nrse of the Com t. By 00]. P. lngraham.
225 Rocky Mountain .11. BvBuckskinSem.
226 'l he Iliad IIm-‘xm-s - or.
Line‘s. By Capt. F. Whittaker. '
227 Iflll'khhnl lien. the Man-Hunterot‘l
By Capt. Mark Wilton. v ,
The Maroon. By Capt. Mayne Reid. » '
229 (‘n plain (‘tttnlccvc ' or. Touch-Medici.“ «
Lime Snort. By Wm. B. Eyster.
280 The ['1 ins: Dhtchmau of 1880; or,
Who was 'anderden-kcn. By Capt. Whit .
231 The. Kid (.‘iovc Miner or, The

Mystery. By Isaac Hawks.

233 The old

Wagering a Life on a Card. l‘y J.

234 The Hunters, Feast.
u

A m ism eren/ Wadnuday.

Beadle" Dim:- l.ibrary is tor 319% all
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The 0‘s and. the‘_  '3

Doctor of Golden Gulch. Br l. i I VI 
2'32 Orton 0xx. the Man of from, or% . .
Boy or Tomb-tonne: a. “,3 "

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,2‘19 Elephant

*280 Black-floss Ben

.284 The Three
 _ 285 Lightning Bolt

, " ‘ 1:983 Pistol Johnny. B
. 287 Dandy Dave and I is Horse. White Stock-

‘- 999 Three or a

 

 

235 Red Lightning, the Man of Chance. By
Col. Prom ism lngraham.

236 (‘haunpion Szun. By Col. T. H. Monstcry.

237 Long-ililuircd illax. By Capt. M. Wilton.

23S llnnk llound, the (,‘rrsccm City lictec- ‘

tive. By Anthony 1’. Morris.
239 The Terrible Trip. By Buckskin Sam.
240 A Cool llcud; or. Orson Oxx ill l’ertl. By
inane Hawks
1 spitiirc Saul. King of the Rustlcnz. Dy
Jos. E. Badger. J r.
242 The. Fog- Devil; or, The Skippt r of the
Flash. By Capt. l‘rcd. \\ hiltaker.
243‘ The. Pilgrim shar r. l.v Buil'alo Bill.
2-1-1 Merciless Mart, ilC Man-‘i'igcr or 311's-
souri. By Buckskin Sam.
2-15 Burruncn Bill, The Revolver Champion.
By Captain Mark Wilton.
246 Queen flclcn, the Amazon of the. Over-
land. By Col. Prentiss Ingrahnnr.
247' Alligator Ike ' or. The Secret of the Ever-
lade. By Capt. fired. Whittaker.

.248 lontana Not. the Lion of Last Chance

Cmnp. By Edward Willott.
'l‘onl oif Duranco; or, Your
Gold-Dust or Your Life. By Jos. E. l‘adger, Jr.
250 The Rough Riders; or. Sharp-Eye, the
Seminole Scourge. By buckskin Sam.
251 Tiger Dick vs. Iron Dcupard; or,
Every Man “as His Match. By P. S. Warnc.
2 The “in” Street Blood; or. Tick Tiek,i.he
Telegraph Girl. By Albert W. Adam.
3 A Yankee (‘ossack ' or, The Queen cf the
Nihilists. l‘y Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
1 Giant Jake, the Patrol of the Mountain.
By Newton M. Curtis.
254‘ The Pirate Priest. By ('01. P. Ingraham.
250 Double Dan. the Bastard; or, The Pirates
of the Pecos. By Buckskin Sam.
257 Death-Trap Diggingsl; or, A Hard Man
from ’Wny Back. By Jose i E. Badger, Jr.
258 llllllet llcud, the Co orado Bravo. By
Captain Mark Wilton.
269 (‘utlass and Cross. By Ccl. P. lngraham.
2‘50 The Masked Mystery. By A. 1’. Morr‘n.
261 “luck Sam, the Prairie Thunderbolt; or,
The Bandit-Hunters. By (‘01. Jo Yards.
262 li‘iu‘hti mg Tom. the Terror ot’ the Toughs.
' By Col. Thomas lioycr Monsierv.

‘26:} Iron-Armed A be, the Hunchback De-

strovcr. Captain Mark Wilton.

2C»! The Crooked 'l‘hrcc. By Buckskin Sam.

335 (Did Don hie-Sword ' or, Pilots and Pi-
lot's. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

266 Leopard Lu kc the King of Horse-Thieves.
By Captain Mark Wilton.

267 The \Vhlto Squaw. P-y Capt. Mayne Reid.

1. 208 Magic. Mike, the Man of Frills: or. Bad

Ben’s Bad Brigade. By \\illl:1m. R. Eystcl‘.
269 The Bayou Bravo. lly Buckskin Shin.
270 A ndron, the Free ll over; or, The Pirate‘s
Daughter. 13y Ned Buntline.
271 Ntouciint. orma Nu get Bend; or, Old
Kctchum’s Tug of War. y Capt. Mark \\ ilton.
272 Seth Sloculn Railroad Surwwcr' or. The
Sccret of Sitting Bull. By Capt. F. Whittaker.
273 Mountain lllosc, the Gorge Outlaw. By
I Buckskin Sam. I
274 Flush Fred the Mississl pi S ori: ,or,
Tough Times in ennesscc“ y Ed. \‘illett.
275 The Smugglcr Cutter. By J. D. Conroy.
276 Texas Chick, the Southwest Detective.
By Captain Mark Wilton.

.277 The Saucy Jane, Privateer. ByCapt.

Frederick Whittaker.

278 Hercules noldspur, the Man of the Velvet

Hand. 1‘ Captain Howard Holmes.
279 The Go d-Dragon. By \\ m. H. Manning.
or. Tiger Dick’s Lone
1 Hand. By Philip S. sme. '
981 ’I‘he Sea Owl. B Col. Prentiss lngraham.
282 Thu Merciless arauders; or. Chap-
arral Carl's Revenge. By Buckskin Sam.

7 283 Sleek 8am, t 0 Devil of the Mines; or, The

h
Sons of the. Fifi; Cross. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.
rig-tee or, Old lrousides'
By Capt. Fred. 'hittaker.
the Can on Terror: or.
The Mouuthiu Cat‘s Crud . y dark Wilton.
oseph E. Badger. Jr.

Revenge.

or. Ducats or Death. By Buckskin 8am.

. in t
:288 Electro Pete, the Man of Fire: or. The
Wharf P M

Rats of Locust Point. 13y A. . orris.
289 Flush Fred’s Full "an or. Life and
Strife in Louisiana. By Edward llett.

Fred. Whittaker.

290 also Lost Corvette; or. Blakelcy's Last

By Cs

lee.
4201 rseshoe nnk, the Man of Big Luck.
Capt. Mark Wilton. '

oke Burner, the Boss Roustahout. By
Joseph E. Badger. Jr.
’09 8mm ede Stove.

892
By Buckskin Sam.

.. 294 Bros cloth Burt, the Denver Dandy. By

tain Howard Holmes.

' 395 0 d Cross-Eye the Maveiick-Hunter. By
'V .96 pt. Frederick Wl)

ittaker.
uncan, the Sca-Divor; or, The Coast
Vultures. By George St. George.
807 Colorado [lube the Strong Arm of Hot-
s'pur City. By Wm.  Manning.
898‘ a Lem ; or. Life ant Peril in the
RV Edward Willctt.
ind. Tiger Dick, Iron Des-
pard. and the Sportive Sport. ' By 1’. S. Warne.
300 A Sport in Spectacles. Bv Wm. R. Eystcr.

ouster
Pine Woods.

“301 Bowlder Bill; or. The Man from Taos.

By Buckskin Sam.

302 Faro Saul, the Handsome Hercules' or, The
Grip of Steel. By Joseph E. Badger. r.

..._::.:.I_B l E ié'lPiLLfPS'

' 306 The

 

l
I l
i r

l l l

l

303 Top-Notch Tom, the Cowboy Oi tlaw; or.
The Satanstown Elcction. By Capt. “hittakcr.

304 Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler: or, The
Queen of the Wild Rides. By Bufl‘nlo Bill.

805 hiivcr-l'lnlcd Sol, the Montana Rover. By
Capt. Mark Wilton.

ltnllghs of Iliclunond; or. The
Mystery of the (:nlden Bectlc. l'y A. P. Morris.

307 The Phantnnl I’lratc. l‘y(‘(‘>l.lngrahuni

308 Ilcmiock Hunk, Tough and Tl'llt'. By
Edward \\'illett.

309 llnybold, the Battling Ranger. 1;)-
lSuekskin Stun.

310 "I he Marshal of Satanstou’n. By
Capt. Fu-dvrick \Vhittak' r.

31 l lleut’ Haud, the Relentless.
Mark 1 'ilton.

312 Kinkioot Karl, The Mountain Seourgc;
or. Wiping Out the Score. By Morris R: dwing.

313 Mark luagic, Detective. By Anthony 1’
Morris.

314 Lafittc' or. The Pirate of the Gull’. By
Prof. J. If. Ingraham.

315 Flu-h Fred’s Double; or, The Squat-
ter's Le no of Six. By Edward Willctt.

316 Lafitte s Lieutenant; or, Theodore, the
Child of the Son. By Prof. J. H. lngraham.

317 Frank Lightt‘oot the Mini r Detective;
or, Followinga Blind Lead. By J. E. Badger.

31 8 The Indian Buccaneer; or. RA‘d Rovers
on Blue Waters. Br ('01. Prentiss ingrahazn.

319 \Vlld Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. By
Builtth Bill.

320 The Gutter] Spotter. By A. W. Aiken.

321 California Claude, the Lone Bandit. By
(‘nptain Howard Holmes.

322 The Crimson Coyotes. Br Buckskin Sam.

323 Hot-spur Hugh; 0r.Tthnndcd Brothch
of the Giant's Ann. 1 y Cn ptaln Mark Wilton.

324 Old Forkcd-Lightning, the Solita ;
or, Every Inch :1 Men. By Joe. E. l'adgcr, r.

325 The (icntlclnun Pirate; or. The ilcr-
mit of Canon l-‘ay. By Col. P. lngmhnm

326 'l he \Vhitcst Man in the Mines; or,
The Dog-Town Crowd. l‘y Capt. F. Whittaker.

327 'l‘crrapin Dick the. Wild Wocdo Detec-
tive. 132' Edward Wilh'ti’.

328 King Kent; or, The Bandits of tho Bason.
By Buckskin Saul.

329 The League ol'Thrcc; or, Buffalo liill's
Pledge. By Col Prentiss Intrrnlnun.

330 (‘op Colt, the Quaker (it); D. tectivc. By
Chas. Morris.

33 1 (‘hispn i‘harlcydke Goldxuggct Sport: or,
The Becky Mountain Mask“. By J. 12. Badger.

332 Spring-"rel Jack. Bv Col. )lomtrry.

333 llcrrinzcr Deck, the Man with the. Drop.

lly Wm. B. Eystcr.

i The Cipher Dctcctivo. By A. P. Morris.

5 Flash Dan, the. Nahoh: or. The Llades of

Bowie Bar. By Capt. H. Holmes.

6 'l‘ho Magic Ship. By Col 1'. ingrnham.

7

R

l 1y Captain

Dill: Gabe, the Mountain Tramp. By Ed.
\‘i ett.
Jack Sands, Sport. Bv Phii'p S. Wernc.
9 s trend Eagle Sam, the Hcrculcs Hide-
} unter. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

340 Cool Conrad, the Dakota Detective. By
Ca lit. 1!. Holmes.

3-” 'I‘ I0 Sea Des )erado. By Col. Ingraham.

3‘12 Binnco Bil , the Mustang Monarch. By
Buckskin Sam.

3-i3 The Head Hunter; or, Mark Magic in
the Mince. By A. 1'. Morris.

3-14 Double Shot Dave oi'tho Lei! Hand.
By Wm. B. Evster.

3‘15 Masked Mark. the Mounted Detective.
By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.

340 ocean (Aucrrilins; or. The Planter Mid-
shipman. By (‘01. Prentiss In ham.

347 Denver Duke, the Man \ ith 'Sandz‘ er,

Centi do Sam's Lone Hand. By Capt. How-

ard olmes.

348 Dan Dillon, King of Crosseut: or. A “'0-
man‘s Wild Work. By Edward \\ illett.

349 Lion-Hearted Dick the Gentleman Road-
Agent. B Albert W. A ken.

350 III-sh sicon, the Society Detective. By
Weldon J. Cobb. '

Nor’ “’est Nick the Border Detective: or.

Dan Brown's Fight or Life. By J. E. Badgnr.

352 Elie Desperate Dozen. 11y Cap. Howard

0 mes.

353 Barb Brennan, the Train Wrecker. By
John Cuthbert.

354 lied Richard. By Albert W. Aiken.

355 Stormy Steve, the Mad Athlete. By Jos.E.
Badger, Jr.

350 ghrco Handsomefiharps. By Wm. R.

yster.
357 Jack Simons. Detective. By A. P. Morris.
3.58 The Prince of Pan-out. By Buckskin

Sam.

359 Yellow Jack the Mestizo: or. Tiger Dick
to the Rescue. ,By Philip S. “‘orne.

360 Jumping Jerry. the Gamecock from Sun-
down. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.

361 Tombstone Dick. By Ned Bandine.

362 Bull‘alo Blil’sGrlp. ByCol.P.Ingraham

303 Crowning-hie”, the Sleuth; or. Pitiless
M Death. Bv Albert W. Aiken.

RM The Hon Fugitive. Bv Coi.P.ing-rahnm.

365 Keen Kctnmrd. the Shasta Shadow: or.
The Branded Face. By Capt. Howard Holmes.

396 The Telegraph Detective: or. The. Dy-
namite League. By George Henry Mom.

367 A Royal Flush; or. Dan Brown's Big
Game of Freeze-Ont. Bans. E. Badger Jr.

368 The (‘anyon King. By Edward Willctt.

369 The Coast Corsair. By Col. P. Ingraham.

 

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370 The Dusky Detective. By A W. Aiken.
371 Gold Isnllons; 01,1‘11e Up-Rnnge I’urds.
By Buckskin Sun.
72 (In )tnin Crisp; or,’l‘thanWitiiaRct-ord.
By 50.x:  Badger. Jr.
73 The Sailor of Fortune: or. The. Buc-
canecrsoi‘ Bnrncgut Bay. By Col. 1’. Ingrahani.
37-i Major Blister the Sport of [no Cities.
By t'apt Hoaarnl i'lolmcs.
375 Itoan George, the Three in One. By Wm.
R. Eystcr.
6 The "lack “curds; or. The High Horse
on iln- Rio (irandc. By Alpert W. Aiken.
7 .-\ float and Ashorc. By C01. P. Ingrahnm.
8 John Arlnstrong‘, Mcchanic. By Capt.
F. Whittaker.
9 "owtlugJonnthau' or. The Terror from
Headwaters. By Jon. E. Badger, Jr.
380 The Golden Serpent; or, Tiger Dick‘s
Pledge. By 1’. S. Name.
381 The Gypsy (£0IIIIclIIitII' or. Nick Fox.
the Demon Detective. By Allwrt \V. Aikrn.
382 The Bonanza "and; or. Drcwl Don, of
the Cool Clan. By Capt, Honard Holmes.
383 Silver Sum, Dctccrivc. By Maj. Daniel
Boone Dinnont of the U. S. A.
38-! lnjuu Dick. Defective: or.Track»d from
t e Rockies to New York. By Albert W.  ikcn.
385 \Vild Dick ’l'urpin, iheLionof Leadvule.
By Wm. H. Manning.
386 llatt'k Heron, the Falcon Detective. By
Jackson Knox. (Old Hawk.) .
387 Dark Du rg; or. The Ishmael of the Hills.
By J os. E. Badger. Jr.
338 The Giant Buccaneer. ByColJrgmham.
389 (‘volollcl Ilou hic-edzc. the Cattle Baron‘s
Pard. By Maj. Daniel Boone Dumont. U S. A.
390 The (.‘lunt Cupid ; or. Cibuta John‘s
Great Jubilee. By J. C. Cowdrick.
39] Kate Scott the Decoy Dctcclit’c; or,
Joe Phenix‘s Still Hunt. By I . W. Aiken.
392 The Lost Bonanza; or. The Boot ofSilent
Iiouud. liy Capt. Howard Holmes.
393 The Convict (‘uplninz or. The Battles of
the Buccaneers. By Col. Prontiss ingraham.
39-1 \Vhito Beaver the Exile of the Pla'te; or,
A Wronged Man's Bed Trail. 1&Bliflalo Bill.
395 Deadly Aim, the Duke of rringcrs. By
Jos. E. Badger. Jr. .
396 The Pi vcr Detective. By Wm. R. Evstcr.
397 The \ 'izard Brothers; or. White
B. aver‘s lied Trail. By Buffalo till.
398 sleepless-Eye the Pacific Detective: 01'.
Running Down a Double. By Geo. C. Jenks.
399 The Net" Monte (Tit-10; or. The Wau-
derirg Jew of the Sea. By Col P. lile‘ralmm.
400 (‘aplnin Coidgrip. the Sport Detective.
By Capt. Howard Hmmcs.

401 'l‘hc (inc-Ann Pard. By BuiTnlo Bill.

.102 Snap-hot Stun, the Pistol Sharp. By Wm.
B. Eyster.

403 The Nameless 9 sort. ByJ. E. Badger, Jr.

40-1 Silver Billie Sit . By Philip S. \\ arm.

405 Old Baldy. the Brigadier 0! Buck lasin.
By Win. ll. Morning. ‘

406 Old Pop hicks, Showman. By Capt. F.

Whittaker.

407 Captain Colderip’s Ncrt'c ' or. lnjun
Nick on Deck. By Capt. Howard olmcs.

.108 Doc t.‘ rip, the Sporting Detective. By
Albert W. Aiken.

409 Rob Roy Ranch; Or. The imps oi the
Pan Handle. By Jose )h E. Badger. Jr.

410 Sarah Brow n. De eetive: or. The Mystery
of the Pavilion. By K. F. Hill.

411 The “’hite Crook or, Old Hark's For-
tress. B Maj. Daniel he Dumont.

412 Larry .ockc, the Man oflron: or. A Fight
for Fortune. ‘By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
13 Ca tain Coldgrip in New York: on
4 ThepDragon League. By Capt. H. Holmes.
414 Bed Renard, the Indian Detective. By
Buffalo Bill.

415 Hot Heart, the Detective Spy. By Wm.
H. Manning.

418 Monte Jim. the Black Sheep ct rismsrk.
By Joe. E. Badger, J r.

417 Tic-son Tom, the Bowie Bravo. By Geo.
St. George.

41 8 Sibyi. the Sea S'ren; or. The Fugitive Priva-
teer. By Col. Prentiss lugrsham.

419 The Bat. onus Battery: or. Jon Phenix,
King of Detectives. By Albert \\ . Aiken.

420 The ma River Sport. Bi’Maj. Daniel
Boone Dumont.

4'21 Father Ferret, the Frisco Shadow. By
Capt. Howard Holm- a.

4 Blu -(‘rnrs Burt. the Gold Star Detec-

’2 tive. «B; J. C. Cowdrick. Ready Nov. 24.
423 The Lone “and: or. The Beerennts of

the Rad Ritcr. By Albert W. Aiken.

Ready Dec. 1. Ni

' It wk Heron’s Donut": or. i’ xey’s

424 Nit: Bv Jackson Knox, (Old Hawk.)

Ready Dec. 8. .

'l'he Fen Torch; or. The Dragon or the
425 Deep. IBy Cal. 1’. Ingrahnm. Ready 130;. 1.1.

A one law/o (wry Wednesday.

Beadlc’s Dime Library is for sale by an
Newsdealcrs. ten cents per copy, or sent by mail on
receipt of twelve cents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS. Prsusnsns.
98 William Street, New York.

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