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February ‘24. xr-J?

: V01. LXXW.

Esmmzo as Sutton: (‘mss MATTER AT THE NEW Yam. 3'. Y.. POST OFFICE.

dieudla (f- flduznx. ’1)/1/)/1's/Le/'s

9‘2 WILLIAM hT‘IHCI‘TI‘, NE-V Y‘JRK.

Copyrighted. 1:407. in DEADLE AND ADAMS.

No.957.

Ten Cent: 3 Copy.
$5.00 a Year.

Published Every
Wednesday.

 

  a  ; or, The MiSSing Miner’s

Double Claimants.
 0-.

 

BYJ

 

 

 

 

 

 

“~H..\1)Y, \‘m' 1:1:1'2' Y" 4 \“H

!Il"'\1 'IEIE Lll'.‘ ()l’ 'I‘RHL RIDER.

2 The King-Pin Sport.

save himself, but only partially succeeded; I
his fingers closed with a death—grip on the
edge of the trail, his body sinking below that
narrow level, his own weight breaking that

 

 

There was only one point from whence
suchafeat might be possible, and after a
half-score of shots had failed to efiect his
diabolical wishes, those

The King-Pin Sport;

 

The Missing Miner’s Double
Claimants.
BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, Jn

CHAPTER I.
HUNTED LIKE A MAI) wow.

“ STEADY, you brute!"

A half-groan, half-curse broke from the
fever-parched lips of the rider as his mount
stumbled and pitched forward, muzzle brush-
ing the ground before he recovered, stung by
spurs and lifted by rein.

It was a wild and difficult trail, where even
a sure-footed mule might well have been ex.
cused for an occasional stumble, and the
greatest marvel was that this poor, jaded,
starvation-stunted broncho was able to show
any speed at all.

Up, and on again. spurs digging nervously
into the blood-wet flanks, and doubled reins
lashing harshly from side to side over the
animal’s wrenched withers, its rider thinking
only of distancing the death which he now
knew was hot upon his trail.

“Oh, you brute! The bend—if I can only
make the turn before he can—oh! don't shoot
—don’t—have mercy l”

While urging his jaded mount on, be
hunted man kept (glancing about, like one
anticipating some read vision; and now,
with a hoarse, hardly articulate cry he recog-
nized the living death from which he was
fleeing in such hot haste.

Crack—crack .’

Two shots that almost blended into one,
rung forth upon the mountain air, and the
doomed fugitive felt the wind of a bullet as
it hissed past his ear; but ducking low along
the broncho’s withers, spurring and lashing,
he fled in breakneck haste, trying to round
the abrupt curve now visible ahead, and so
place another barrier of ragged rocks between
himself and this pitiless pursuer,

Spiny—spang—slap .’

A trained hand was workin the lever of
. that Winchester repeater, and the deadly
missiles were humming wickedly around
those fleein g figures, but a charm seemed
to ward off all injury, until—

Just as they gained the point where the
trail began to curve to the left, one of those
viciously-aimed bullets gave a different
sound, and even before the roncho made its
spasmodic bound, the hunted man knew his
beast was hard hit, even if it had not received
a death-wound.

Faltering, swaying dizzily for an instant
after making that spasmodic leap, the bron-
cho rallied under 8 ur and reins, snorting
wildly as he plunge onward once more with
pellets of grooved lead whistling sharply
around them.

Another jump—an almost human sound of
bitter pain—then the death-stricken creature
raced blindly onward, the broken bit tearing
out of its mouth as the rider vainly strove to
steady his mount.

A cry of fierce despair broke from the
blanched lips of the hunted fugitive, and
one hand mechanically fumbled at the belt
where hung a loaded revolver, his fear-
cnlarged eyes roving backward to catch a
first glimpse of the bein who had so surely
doomed him to death t ere in the lonely
wilds.

The towering rocks shut off that view,
but—for how long?

“ Devil—devil from Hades!” hoarsely pant-
ed the fugitive, brushing a hand across his
eyes, now suddenly grown dim and misty.
“Give me a show—half a show, even I”

The wounded broncho flung up its head
with a chokiu g snort——the race was run!

The useless reins dropped from his hand,
even as he kicked the heavy woaden stirrups
, from his feet; but, before he could do more
—before he could make up his mind to fling
himself out of the saddle to take his chances
of broken bones on that rocky trail—the dy-
ing mustang plunged forward upon its
knees, rolling over and over, then fallin
from the narrow trail to have the last spar
of life dashed upon the'pitiless rocks lying
in below that level. ' . -

Crying out sharply, the fugitive tried to

 

 

' g, "4": 'vé“; i': iv '92:» in

 

insecure hold, and a wild, piercing scream
of deathly fear coming back as the doomed
one fell. '

Not far enough to cause death, though
that would have followed, only for the
stunted bush which found root at the very
edge of the little bench of rock; that alone
kept the half-stunned wretch from falling
over to meet the same fate which had already
overtaken his horse—death and shattered
bones on those pitiless rocks, hundreds of
feet below the ledge on which he was now
lying.

Far ‘enoughto bcnumb his body and briefly
paralyze his limbs. Far enough to leave
him but a vague, nightmare-like remem-
brance of that merciless focman who had
sworn his life away.

Then—

The cold rock against which his check was 

pressing seemed to turn suddenlyr to fire, out
of which myriads of biting. spitting, sting-
ing scorpions shot, blinding his eyes, tearing
his skin, plucking the hairs from his lip and
chin, sending thrills of agony from crown to
sole.

Then—

Froin above came a second report, and the
bullet, striking the stone at a little different
angle, glanced of]? into space, giving a dia-
bolical screech as its battered shape tore
through the air.

The hunted man caught a dim, indistinct
glimpse of a human face showing over the
blood-marked trail, and knowing now what
peril menaced, hastily shrdnk as closely as
possible to the face of the rock, gasping in
partial relief as he saw that he was, for the
moment at least, hidden from that merciless
foeman.

A third shot smote the rock just as he
made that hasty shift, and a few bits of
shattered lead stung the hunted fugitive;
but he heeded them not in his renewed fear
for his life, nor paid be any attention to the
blood which was rapidly masking his face,
caused by the s linters of stone and bits of
lead from that rst shot.

Silence, grim and‘unbroken, above.

What was his enemy doing? Was he steal-
ing nearer? Was he lowering himself from
the trail, to make sure of the life he had
sworn to take?

Shivering in every1 limb, pale as though
already a corpse, the untcd man gripped his
sole Weapon, 0. heavy revolver, strainin his
ears, turning his eyes upward and flas ing
them from side to side in a vain attempt to
discover what that pitiless foeman was now
doing.

Then—spam]!

The deftly-aimed bullet struck a raised
point of rock near the edge of that shelf,
glancing inward to sting that cowering shape
with a flesh-wound. taking him so complete.
ly by surprise that he scrambled to one side,
losing his balance, rolling over once, to fall
over the edge of the ledge! -

Another wild scrccch from those tortured
lips, then—silence!

Again that life was saved, almost as by a
miracle, and once again that hunter of man
peered far OVer the escarpment, to catch a
slight glimpse of his enemy, lying on another
lcd e, nearly a score feet further down the
bro en, irregular face of that precipice.

Only a heel, and a few inches of the leg to
which that foot belonged; but, quickly,
those double sights came into line, and once
more the Winchester awoke the echoes of
these wild mountains.

Barely touched by the lea-l, saved a crip-
pled foot by the lac { of skill on the part of
his relentless pursuer, the fugitive jerked
that member out of sight, groaning with pain
and fear as he lay shivering there upon a
sloping bit of rock: just enough room for his
form to rest upon, yet all that saved him
from a horrible death on those cruel rocks
below.

Shot followed shot from above, the bullets
marking the rock with bluish streaks here
and there, as, with cool devilishness, the
hunter of this now unarmed creature—whose
sole weapon had fallen from his unnerved
grip as that second fall took place—tried to
glance his lead back toward the now hidden
shape.

 

caused the frost-eaten rock to scale off, the
thin mass going rattling and cluttering down
the face of the precipice, finding TC>i3 at
last  the depths of that dark, pine-shaded
gulc .

kOnce again—silence that seemed death-
li cl

Haunted by fears which had grown super.
stitious, the hunted man at last could endure
the terrible suspense no longer, and though
he shivered like a leaf with dread lest he be
thus inviting his own death, be little by little
stretched forth his head and neck, eyes turn-
ed upward toward the trail from whence those
shots had been sped.

There was nothin to be seen in that quar-
ter, but a few secon s later he caught a pass-
ing glimpse of his focman,mov1ng away,
yet hardly acting like one who had so soon
given over the death-hunt.

Where was he going? What did that
movement mean. when—

“The fiend! The pitiless demon!"

The man-hunter, with Winchester slung by
its strap over his shoulders, “as risking his
own bones if not his own life, in order to
gain a projecting point of rock, from whence
he rwould almost surely be able to command
the narrow shelf of rock upon which his prcy
was then cowering!

Once there, he could aim and fire at his
leisurci

With a shiver of terror, the doomed fugi-
tive glanced dowuward to where the pine-
shadcd gulch wound its length along, think-
ing how nearly like heaven ’twould be Were
he only there, able to flee at will, instead of
cowering here, forced to await the inevitable
death which yonder fiend in human guise
had decreed.

Was there no method of escape? Were
there no means of toiling that pitiless demon?
Why must he suffer death, simply because
his heart had been opened to sympathy with
and pity for a fellow-being?

With this wordless cry of despair, the sen-
tenced fugitive averted his gaze from yonder
pitiless foeman, groaning as he shuddcred at
his utter helplessness; but even as he did so,
a faint gleam of hope sprung into exist-
ence. -

Surely that narrow ledge widened ahead?
Surely it made a curve around yonder rock
instead of blending with the wall itself? If
so-,-was all lost, even et?

Trembling more t an ever, now hope
seemed/to be dawning, the fugitive crept
along that precarious perch, reachin the
point where he had taken it for grante that
the shelf ran out, to give a gasp of relief as
he saw the narrow way broaden and grow
wider as it sloped downward!

He looked back, to catch a final glimpse
of that inexorable enemy, who was still toil-
ing toward the pinnacle of rock from the
apex of which be calculated he would
wholly command the refuge of his prey.

Just the one glance; then the hunted man
crept on, and on, more than once finding
places where there were only scant inches of
space to spare, but with each passing minute
regaining something of the nerve and Will-

wer which he had lost since finding you-

er demon on his track.

Then the shelf gradually wasted away,
and his further progress seemed barred un-
less-dared he take that perilous drop?

IIis brain grew dizzy as he looked over
the edge of the rock, for that shelf below
Seemed perilously narrow and dangerously
sloping!

Yet—dared he hesitate? ,

True, the point of rock toward which he
had last seen his merciless enemy torling on
murder bent, was no longer Visible, but how
long would it be ere yonder demon again
struck his trail?

With a mute prayer for protection, the
hunted man gathered his courage, and
dropped overthe edge, striking the shelf be-
low, saving himself from falling further by
desperate clutching at the weather-worn
rocksl

A brief space for rallying from the mental
shock, then, with swift-beating heart and re-
viving hopes, he crept along that narrow
trail, soon reaching a way which took him
to the bottom of the tree shaded gulch,

v-gugt- ,t

 

repeated shocks . j

The King-Pin So

 

3

 

 

 

where he. felt that once more he stood a fair
chance for cheating yonder human sleuth
hound of his Coveted prey!

Not a sound came from his enemy, but
the hunted man did not linger to see what
would be the next move made by that mer
ciless foeman; he thought only of reaching
safety, where he might find other men to
both listen and to shield the right.

The way was rough, and his immediate
goal was yet distant; but the thought that
he had at last thrown that demon off the
scent lent him courage and strength, and
though it cost him both time and toil to
finally win a way out of that winding gulch,
whose general course lengthened rather than
shortened his 'ourney, the fugitive counted
it labor wel spent, since through its
agency he had so completely baflied his
enemy.

“ Still, the intense emotions through which
he had been forced to pass of late had robbed
the fugitive of much of his vital powers, and
as his destination came nearer, his steps
grew slower and his feet heavier, though he
still doggedly pressed onward, muttering
now and then to himself, like one repeating
a message, or one recording an emphatic
vow.

Ahead lay his goal, with the lights of
early night already twinkling brightly under
the moon, now almost at its full. Leadville,
“ Ma ic City” of the Colorado Silverfields!

Neither sight nor sound of his deadly
enemy, and with safety so nigh to hand!

Spurred into fresh energy by this thought
and yonder panoraum, the nameless fugitive,
pressed onward, heading for the city wl ieh
had, so to speak, sprung up in a night, but
which resembled the mushroom in that re-
spect alone.

He left the high ground, winning clear of
stunted pines and other shrubbery, leaving
the worst of the rooks and crags behind him,
then entering the skirts of that marvelous
mining-camp, beginning to breathe freely
now that he found himself in easy reach of
honest mankind once more.

From a brightly illuminated building came
sounds of excitement, human voices lifted
high as though in quarrel, and he mechanic
ally paused to hear more, at the same time
glancing around to— Merciful heavens!

Yonder stood that pitiless demon in human
guise, face and figure fully revealed by the
moonlight into which he had stepped to—

A wild, despairing cry broke from the lips
of the doomed fugitive!

 

CHAPTER II.
THE RIVAL CLAIMANTS.

THE “Good Luck” Saloon was running
wide open, as Thomas Gayworthy, better
known perhaps in Leadville as “Ten-Strike
Tom," or “King-Pin Sport,” paused for a

‘ brief space upon its threshold to glance com-

prelliensively over the crowd there assem-
bler .

Rough-and ready the crowd was, for the
most part, butjnst what was to he expected in
a place which was still but a mining-camp
from a certain point of View, though with
population sufficient to make it a city of the
second class. .

Nor was there any particular attempt at
“putting on frills ” exhibited by the Good
Luck, or its master, “ Popveyed Moses;” the
latter big, burly, broad-shouldered, honest
as the open day, slow of movement and
sing ish of nature, yet capable of accom-
plish ng wonders when once fairly aroused
by friend or by foeman.

If there was little style about that bar,
there wasno lack of substantials. If one and
the same decanter served peer and peasant,
he who preferred “mixed drinks,” was at
liberty to do the shaking after taking, or
could very readily induce others to take that
trouble off his hands by snnply dragging
the tails of his coat, or parading With chip
on shoulder for a scant minute by the Clock

Here and there were rough tables, for the
most part utilized by card-players, though
the Good Luck made no pretensions toward
being a resort for amblers.

So much Ten- trike 'I‘om took in at a
single leisurely glance, although he was
gaining no fresh knowledge through that
preliminar survey, since this was by no
means his nitial call at the Geek Luck.

Fairly crossing the threshold, he made his

 

way to the, bar, where Pop-eyed Moscs greet-
ed him with a slow nod and a sleepy smile,
one hand instinctively moving toward the
whisky—decanter.

“Never mind, Moses. smoothly uttered
the King Pin Sport, with a faint smile to
match that negative head-shake. “I’m not
irrigating this evening, but—no word, of
course?"

llis keen eyes glanced toward acopy each
of the “ Leadville Herald” and “Leadville

I)emocrat”lying on the shelf back of the I

bar, then lifting to note the black faced type
of a poster pinned conspicuously to the wall.

“Never no, word, as I knows on, sub,”
slowly answered the proprietor, as he, too,
turned gaze. upon that poster, sleepily scan-
ning the word “ REWARD!"

Thomas Gayworlhy frowned in place of
smiling, his keen eyes swiftly running over
thosehold lines where a liberal reward was
promised any person who could or would
give the undersigned information concerning
one ll. K. Jones; after which said Jones was
urged to come forward and learn of some-
thing vastly to his own advantage.

Little or no attention was paid the twain
by the crowd gathered beneath that roof, as
Ten-Strike Tom and Popeycd Mosesfell into
confidential chat across the bar; but that chat
was abruptly terminated as
enormously fat man waddled into the saloon,
casting one quick look around, then pressing
forward to the bar, pulling a rumpled copy
of the Ifllrultl from his flannel shirt,
slapping it down on the bar, thumping it
with one fat and grimy paw, then pointing
out a particular advertisement with astumpy
forefinger as he huskily rumbled:

“\Vhat’s that, an'who’s him as axes fer
H. K.? VVhar’s the money into it, an’ who
pays how much? lley? Say?”

en-Strike Tom had moved quietly to one
side as that far from sweet or savory cus-
tomer surged forward, at once summing him
up as one of those ubiquitous bummersso
prone to haunt saloons and other places of
public resort, where bite or sup is to be pick-
ed up without cost to the bare-faced foragcr.

But now aspark of interest flashed up in
his brain, and his second glance was keener
and more comprehensive.

The fellow was more than fat; he was al-
most enormous, so far as circumference went,
although hardly up to the average as to
altitude.

Heavy cowhide boots, canvas trowsers,
flannel shirt open from throat nearly to waist-
line, once of a brilliant red, but now dis-
colored by sweat and patched with grease
until only a hint of its former gaudiness re-
mained.

A greasy felt hat was pushed far back on

his frowsy pate, revealing a knobby fore-'

head, shaggy eyebrows, a little pug nose,
a dense crop of red bristles covering cheeks
and chin, the same hue and texture as the
enormous pair of mustaches which curled
and twisted back beyond each ear, the wiry
strands long enough to tie in a knot back of
that fat neck!

This much Ten-Strike Tom took in, visual-
ly, then he spoke up, his tones a bit sharper
than usual:

“Why do you ask?
Jones, surely!”

“ Who dast fer to say Ihaz‘n't when [1113?
Me! Right liyar! ll. K. fer the head, an’
Jones fer the tail! Jine ’em with a back-
bone, an' right thar ye hev it; 11. K. Jones—
an’ Jones with a J., d’ye mind, tool"

In tones so deep as to almost sound sepul-
chral, and with a volubihty dillicult to match,
came this assertion, and the fat man, thumbs
stuck under his broad leather belt where
hung huge knife and brace of navy revolvers,
gazed half-insolentl , haltdoubtingly into
the handsome face ofy the King-Pin Sport.

" You are the man mentioned in yonder
poster. then ?” asked Gayworthy.

“ Shore as sart’in, an’ true as honest facts!
Them’s me: IIai-rycanc Jones on common
days. an' II. K. Jones for Sundayl”'

“ Stiddy an’ ’owld lam, there, will ye,
now ?” just then came a shrill, high‘pitched
and peculiarly accented voice from the front
entrance; and as eyes shifted to suit, they
saw a tall, roughly-clad personage stride
across the threshold, one long arm gesticula-
ting vigorously, the huge hand at its extrem-
itytgripping a copy of the Leadville Demo-
cra .

You're not II. K.

\

a short, !

“ A succuss done wrecked, an’ hyar comes
the gee-raft!” rumbled the fat man, swing-
ing his corporosity around to more squarely
face this latest comer. “ Whar's the monkey,
an’ whar’s the baboon‘s sister?”

“ ’Owld 71072, gents!” repeated the new
comer, flourishing the paper as he advanced.
“ '00’3 takin’ me name hin wain, ’ere? ’00’3
hawskin’ for H. K. Jones? W’ich his me,
gents! W’ich hl’m willink for to make
I howth before hany bloomink beak has may—
w‘ich?”

The fat man broke into a sneering gufiaw,
his huge mustaches fairly bristling with sub-
dued rage as he flung forth a dirty paw to
snap thumb and forefinger sharply in the
face of this latest arrival on the scene.

As once before, the keen eyes of the King-
Pin Sport took a swift photograph of the fel-
low whose coming promised fair to give in-
terest if not profit to Gayworthy’s callat the
Good Luck Saloon, and this is what he saw:

A tall, loose jointed, gangling figure, fully
armed, clad in high boots, jeans trousers,
blue flannel shirt and battered s‘ raw hat.

llis thin face and sharp nose hardly match~
cd his accent, which was undeniably that of
a London cockncy, pure and undetlled.

“Takin‘ allow name in Wain, I’m'wantin'
to know ‘3” rumbled the fat man, sweeping
his little pig like eyes up and down that
lengthy sample of humanity, then givinga
scornful snort as summing up.

“Me name, hof course!” came the sharp
answer.

The fat man gazed scornfully into that
slowly flushing visage, then gave a short, in-
suitingr chuckle before saying:

“ T/tat‘a the name of a gentleman, sir, an’
you try fer to make—" '

The tall claimant swung forth his long
arm, pushing the fat man out of his path,
striding forward until his waist touched the
bar, across which he leaned, to smite that
poster sharply with clinched fist. Then he
swung back, flashing a fiery look into the
handsome visage of the King-Pin Sport,
harshly speaking:

“ That‘s me .' that’s my name .’ ’00 his hit
wants me, then?”

“ I do; that is if you are the real H. K.
Jones, who—”

Ten-Strike Tom began thus, but before his
sentence could reach a legitimate termination,
both claimants cut in, voices lifted and
clinched hands gesticulating, each one seemv
ineg in dead earnest.

“ hl’m the gent w’at his—”

“ That's me, right what I live, fer—”

The rival claimants broke of! simultaneous-
ly, glaring at each other in glowing ra e,
then both breaking forth in ndjurations which
betokened blows unless some one of authority
interfered right speedily. ,

That interference came from Thomas Gay-
worthy, and grasping a shoulder of each man,
he pushed them back from the bar, into a
clear space near the center of the apartment,
then left them face to face, himself standing
midway, coldly speaking:

“ Bottle up all nonsense until later on.
I’m business, and you want to talk business,
or you’ll think something has broken loose,
and the whole world‘s gone off on a high
bender. Now—business!”

Tapping the fat man on an arm, he spoke,
sharply:

“You came first, so I’ll talk to you first.
W120 are you .9"

“ Henry Kane Jones, better knowed whar
I 1.6 knowed, as Ilarrycane Jones—both with
a J, ye want to keep in mind, boss!”

“And you, sir?” turning eyes upon the
tall claimant.

“ Hamilton King Jones, yer washup!"
just as libly asserted the latest arrival.
“Better nowed, yer washup, has Hupper
Krust Jones; which his like this, 'er washup:
haitch fer hup )er, hand key for rust!”

“Good law an’ holy smoke!” exploded
the fat man, hands on hips and chin lifted
high as his head Went back with a snort of
disgust. “ I do like a liar, but—waal,
critter, you please me too mighty welll”

“ L pper Crust " Jones twisted his eyes far
ehough to scornfully scan the face of his
rival for a brief space, then reared back on
his dignity, loftily uttering:

“Hand pray, ’00 may you be, han ’ow?"

“ Who mought I be, hey ? Wa-al, mouglat
be a durned old fraud, moseyin’ 'round the
country on the credit of a honest gentleman's

 

»,.,A,.“

 

,1 ~,'.
‘9’).

 

4

The King-Pin Sport. I

 

 

name and repetation; I mought be all this,
but I jest hain‘t, all the same! But you-—
who be you, any way, critter?” ,

“ H. K. Jones, hesquire,
Hupper Krust—”

“ Oh, come out 0' that, ye rolled-out angle-
worm of a 'postor!” indignantly exploded
the fat claimant, cutting short the very ex-
planation he had himself invited. “Upper
Crust be (lingedl Jones be thundered! )7th
the likes 0’ all them? Booh'"

“ Do you den that this gentleman is the
genuine H. K. ones, sir?" asked 'l‘en-h‘trike
'l‘om, gravely as to voice, but with a bright
devil dancing in his keen eyes.

“Do I? When I'm the gentleman my own

self?"
hI’m the gent, hand hif hl

hotherwise

“ Never!
don’t—”

“Oh, go hunt a hole to crawl inside of,
you!" scornfully thundered the man of
mighty voice. “ Ef thar's any H. K. hitched
onto you, it’s a mighty sight more like this:
II fer Humbly, K fer Kuss, J fer Joker;
Humny Kuss Joker!"

By this time nearly all in the saloon were
watching and listening, ready to enjoy what-
ever of sport might result from this conflict
of claims; but neither of the trio more deep-
ly interested seemed aware of this growing
notice, and Ten-Strike 'l‘om once more inter-
fered to hold the tall claimant in check as,
enraged by that scofiing insult, he clinched
his fists and seemed on the point of assault-
ing the fat man.

“Having so summarily disposed of this
gentleman, of course you can make good
your own claims to the title of——- What is
your name, anywa ‘2"

“Henry Kane ones, an’ nary time be I
’shame fer to 'knowledge it, neither,” quick-
ly answered the corpulent claimant. “ Harry »
cane, for short, or when I git my ebenezer
u -an’.still a-risin’; or H fer Ilan’some, an‘

fer Kreetur: Han'some Kreetur Jones!
Which is what the toney ladies call me,
mostly!”

With a smirk and a bow came this un-
blusbing assertion, but in place of the smile
which it invited, the face of Thomas Gay.
worth wore a dark frown as he stepped back
a pace, white hands motioning one to each of
the rival claimants, his voice sounding cold
and stem as it shaped the word:

“I've listened to you’ both with greater
lenience than you really merit, unless I’m
vastly mistaken in my summing up Not to

at too fine a gloss upon it, I believe you are
Both of you rank frauds, and no more worthy
to bear the name of H. K. Jones than I am
to wear wings and play on a golden harp in
realms above!”

“ Good—Laud!

“ Well, hI ham hastenishedl” '

” That’s all right, both. 1 want H. K.
Jones, and stand ready to pay a handsome
reward to anyone who produces the Original
JaCObs, but—"

“ Hyar he stan’s, an’ I’m yourhuckleberry,
boss!" cried the fat man.

“Hoh, jumpin' Jemima!" fairly howled
the cockney, losing all self-control at that un-
blushing assertion. “ hA mule couldn’t kick
the truth hout hof ye, e bloomin' fraud.
ye!" and at the same ttme he lifted a big
foot, to drive it violently against that protru-
sive stomach!

CHAPTER II].
THE FA'RCE TURNS TO TRAGEDY.

TAKEN completely by surprise, Henry
Kane Jones recoiled with an explosive grunt,
his wonderfully mustached head coming for-
ward as his equator drew in before that in-
solent foot, one pudgy paw flying to the in-
jured region, while the other snatched wildly
at a pistol-butt.

Ten-Strike Tom was taken almost as much
off his guard, for he by no means credited
either claimant with genuine fighting dispo-
sition.

He saw Hamilton King Jones fling hand
back to where his rusty pistol hung, while,
with ejaculations of sudden- alarm, the grin-
ning cardplayers began to scatter in quest
of safer quarters before the lead should com-
mence to fly on the loose.

“ Steady, all!"

Sharp and perem tory rung forth that
voice, and the King- in Sport shot forth a
white hand to grasp and twist the gun from
the grip of the fat claimant, sweeping it

at"

r in: ~ .-

 

swiftly around to rap the tall fellow’s wrist
with the barrel just as his rusty revolver
came to the front.

\Vith marvelous dexterity was all this per-
formed, so rapidly that it would have been
diflicult for even the keenest of eyes to dis-
tinguish more than the general result: two
men disarmed, a third drawing back a bit
with a bland smile on handsome face, as his
neatly-shod foot kicked aside the mate to
the weapon he now held in his right hand.

“Steady, all!” came the warning repeti-
tion. “Scratch and clappcrclaw all your
stomachs call for, but no mutual suicide,
gentlemen!"

“III'll teach ’im to hinsult ha gent w’at
never done nothink but lay ’onest claim to ’is
hown!" shrilly squealed the gangling claim-
ant, his face tiushed with anger and his thin
nose glowing like a beacon-light amid that
grizzled beard. “hI’Zl show ’im ’ow ha
gent—”

“ Ow-wow to thunder-an’-gunsl” bellowed
the fat claimant, re aining the wind which
had been so surely finocked out of him by
that vigorous application of manufactured
cowhide. “ Dug-gun my sister's black~eyed
bob-tailed cat‘s speckled kittens! W/taris
he who— Cl’ar the track, ye b'iled-shirt an’
stiff-batted pessence-eddlerl Le’ me git at
him! Jest le’ me ’tarnally chaw up the
p’izen fish-worm 0’ nastiness which— Use
me karkidge fer a do’-mat, willge? Wipe
yer toad squasher all over— 11, ’tarnal
death an’ ge-lorious sanctiflcationi”

Fairly swelling with rage until his fat
body bulged out on either side of that em-
bracing belt so far that the leather was al-
most hidden from sight, the fat claimant
puffed and snorted, his face turned purple,
his little pig-like eyes almost lost between
brows and bristles. '

Words failed him for the instant, and he
could only stand on widelyplanted feet,
glaring furiously upon his rival, the picture
of impotent rage.

Hardly]7 less excited was Hamilton King,
though e still retained a degree of dignity,
his head thrown back, his eyes looking down
his thin nose at that~ BWelling shape as he

slow! uttered: -

“ is ’ee ha toad. hor just ha bag hof spoilt
wind. somebody?”

“Toad? Bag of— Cl’ar the road, fer

now I be a-comin'l” fair! ex loded the cor-
pulent claimant, wildly ourtshing his short
but thick arms. “Look out! Harrycane
done bu’sted loose! Whoo-ee!”

With the lunge of a mad bull, Henry Kane
lunged forward to a close, and though Hami-
ilton Kin planted both right and left flsts
squarely in that fat face, each blow breaking
the skin and bringing the hot blood, he was
unable to check that angry rush. and grap-
pling flerccly, the two men went down to-
gether with a shock which caused the glass-
ware to jingle and cllnk right merrily.

Ten-Strike Tom deftly tossed the revolver
which he had wrested from the cor ulent
claimant across the bar to Pop-eyed loses,
and deftly avoidng those wildly-flying feet
as the rivals rolled over and over each other
in their furious grapple, he contrived to
snatch from their persons both pistol and
knives, then drawing back with a short laugh
of grim amusement, willing enough tolet t e
bummers have their farce out. _

So long as their close grapple lasted, little
injury could be done by either, and, even
should the matter grow more serious, what
matter?

“ Frauds and liars—both!”

More than Thomas Gayworthy gave that
same verdict, yet the audience gathered
around, cheering the fighters, evidently car-
ing little which was on top, justso “the fun”
lasted long enough.

But, just as the excitement reached the
boilinr point, a wild, ear-piercin scream
rose a vs the racket, plainly coming from
just without the door of the Good Luck Sa-
loon.

Almost involuntarily every pair of eyes,
save those belonging to the claimants, turned
toward the entrance, and as they did so, there
rung forth the sharp report of a rifle: crack-
crack-crack I

Three shots, f0110wing one the other so
closely as to seem but one prolonged report;
another wild yell as of mortal agony blend-
in with intense affright; then the shape of
a inman being came in at the open door.

. ' . ' ' (‘1. . . 1»
-.5'n)t'::'35-  -. .-. ' "" "3  7' i .-":"-r:'.

 

«(Wad , “1;.0.  x'

flinging up both arms and reeling dizzily for
an instant before pitching headlong to the
sanded floor!

There was nothing counter-felted there.
Only a corpse, or a human being surely
marked by grim death as his prey, could fall
like that—the fall of a bag of sand!

With the others, Ten-Strike Tom had
wheeled to face the front when that first
scream of deadly horror burst upon their
ears, and as that ragged shape came reeling
over the threshold, his eyes were swift to
note the red blood which was rapidly mark-
ing that front.

Only one branded by death could bleed
like that!

Trained by a wild and roving life, the
King- Pm Sport was first of them all to rally
and take action, crying out sharply;

“Look to the man, some of you!
for the outside!”

The words were still crossing his lips as
he sprung to the side of the room where two
Windows showt'd, and without wasting time
in trying to lift and prop up a sash, the
King'Pin Sport rose from the sanded floor
in an agile bound, his feet shootng out in
advance, striking the wooden sash with a
deft force which drove out all, splintered
glass flying in every direction as that neatly-
garbed figure shot through the opening, to
alight safely upon his feet with the building
at his back.

Few men could have performed the feat
so adroitly, even while ivin r all thought to
the exploit, but Ten-St ke om was an ex-
ception to the average, and as he shot
through the air and the window, his hands
were arming themselves, and his eyes Were
flashing around in quest of the slayer—
avenger or assassin, as the case might
prove.

On that side lay several vacant lots, wholly
unimproved, though plentifully decorated
with emptied tins which had once contained
meat, fish, fruits or vegetables.

Weeds grew sparsely, stones and rocks la
here and there, yet none of them all affor -
ing secure cover for a hiding criminal; and
as there certainly were no fleein figures in
motion thereaway, Ten-Strike gl‘om knew
the as 1yet unknown slayer could not have
sought ight in that direction.

As soon as he felt sure of so much, the
King-Pin Sport sprung forWard, sweeping

I‘ll care

his eyes from side to side as his scope o
vision widened, for it seemed hard! 
e so
abruptly.
And yet, where was the rifleman?

sible that the slayer could have vanis
Not a living soul was in sight as the Sport:

reached the front of the Good Luck Saloon,

and unless— ‘

Revolver in hand, ready for instant use,
Gayworthy dashed across to where the
shadows lay deepest, cast by the buildings
on the other side of the street; but once again
his hopes were frustrated.

No man was skulking there, and as the
sound of excited voices came even more dis-
tinctly from the interior of the saloon, where
farce had so unexpectedly been changed to
traged , Ten-Strike Tom abandoned his win

uest or the moment, turning back to that
l ghted doorway.

“ Who is be? What cause for such a
bold killing? Is it murder, or a justifiable
homicide?” '

These, and kindred questions, were flash-
ing through the brain of the handsome ad-
venturer as he moved toward the saloon,
more slowly than he might have done only
for his natural reluctance to give over an un.
rewarded pursuit. _

He paused briefl at the entrance, taking
in the scene quick . Poll" that the rival
claimants had uit t err aw ward scramble
and were now gram} 8P8“, 88:0h one looking
at the form which still lay as It had fallen on
the sanded floor.

A number ‘0! men Were gathered about
that figure. but “one Were trying to stanch

,3

that flow of blood, or making any effort to_

ascertain whether or no ’twas something
more than the Corpse it surely seemed, just

hen.

“Out of the way, gents!” commanded the
King-Pm Sport as he carries forward. “If
you’re above helpmg, don’t stoop to hinder!
Room—give me room, will you ‘l”

The CFOWd fell aside promptl

for it was not lack of eDOUgh’

heart or o sympathy

.I‘

’3.

m.

 n -‘r .~"‘t‘»%~.s‘ Ewart-rthat»; ,,S.._ -

 

 

,‘v'a‘.

. "Rang ._._ ‘1' .

The King-Pin Sport.

 

which caused their irresolution so much as it
was the want of presence of mind when an
unexpected emergenc presented itself.

Questions were p ured upon the Sport
who had taken it upon himself to investi-
gate the cause of that crimson deed, butTen-
Strike Tom was not in the humor for wast-
ing time in explanations, just then.

“ Swarm and scatter, those of ye who call
yourselves white men!" hecried as he dropped
to his knees by the side of the fallen stranger,
hands and eyes as busy as tongue was nim-
ble. “Out, and hunt for the villain who
turned this trick! Nab him if you can find
him, and we’ll question his rights as execu-
tioner later on! Gu—and find, if it's in the
wood!"

He spoke like one holding full authority,
and such men are usually obeyed without
question by the lower herd; so it Was now,
and with hands seeking weapons, tongues
uttering grim threats, the crowd melted
away as by magic, to mingle outside with
others who had been drawn toward the Good
Luck Saloon by the sounds of fire-arms.

This was by no means the first time Ten-
Strike Tom had examined gun-shot victims,
and it took but acasual look to show him
this poor fellow had Scarce a show for life,
though the vital spark had not yet fled for
good and all.

“Clear the lunch-counter, Moses!” Gay.
worthy commanded, glancing up from that
brief investigation. “This dirty floor is no
place for a man to draw his last breath! Now
-—stead y she goes!"

With an admirable blending of gentleness
and care with strength of arm and will, the
King-Pin Sport lifted that bleedin figure
from the stained floor, hearing his elpless
burden across the nearly vacant room to the
Substantial table, or counter, from which
Pop eyed Moses was now clearing the “free
lunch.”

Gently depositing his burden there, Gay-
worthy deftly opened his torn and stained
garments for a more thorough inspection,
only to more than confirm his first estimate:
the stranger had been struck fairly in the

, bosom with two bullets, both of which had

passed entirely through his body.

‘ Any show, ardner?" slowly asked the
proprietor; but en-Strike Tom shook his
head in grave negation.

“Not the ghost of a show for life, I’m
afraid, Moses. He’s still alive, but—give me
a little whisk , will you?”

With won erful celerity for one so slug-

ish, Pop-eyed Moses procured the stimulant

esired, and silently watched the King Pin
Sport as he administered a small portion of
the iiery liquor.

The wounded man seemed almost past
swallowing, but a little of the liquor trickled
down his throat, and caused him to catch his
breath and partly strangle, which certainly
helped bring back his nearly gone vitalit .

“We’re friends,” distinctly uttered ay-
worthy as he saw those eyes open with a
frightened stare at the face bending over
him. “ You‘re safe now, and—who shot

on?"

The poor fellow shivered and shrunk away,
giving a low, inarticulate cry as he did so.

Ten-Strike Tom forced a little more whisky
into his mouth. and the stimulant seemed
to lend him fresh strength if not renewed
courage.

But the one who was caring for him knew
that this was nothing more than the final
flickerpf the candle before going out forever,
and Wishing‘ to solve the bloody m stery,
while well aware that so urging cou! make
no particular difl'erence. with that frail lease
of life, he asked again, in slow, distinct
accents:

N Who did this ugly deed, my'friend?
Who are you? What is your name? ’

Again that shudder of terror, born of the
long and desperate hunt for his lifei but
then the dying man seemed to rally, lifting a
trembling hand as though to brush the 33‘,”
erin g mists from before his eyes, Pfimy “‘3'
ing himself on his other arm as he stared
diml about the room.

“ don’t—if he finds—God!”

“Who is he? And you: who are you,
friend?" reiterated Gavworthy.

“He—l—Jones!” came in a husky series
of gasps

“ What Jones do 'ou mean?" swiftly de
manded Ten-Strike om.

»}..1ek'sr.r»~7-;.‘s . " ' .1»
_v .‘4‘~_’

 

“ H. K. Jones, and—”
That was all. The voice was voiceless!

CHAPTER IV.
WHO FIRED THE DEATH sno'rs?

THE death-claimed stranger flung up both
arms, his fingers wildly clutching at vacancy !
as the blood oozed from his parting lips, his
head falling back to strike the bare boards 1
with an audible thud as the startled Sport
failed in his effort to lend support.

But, the poor fellow never felt that blow.
Death had claimed its prey at last, and the
vital spark had fled before that head touched ,
its improvisedcooling-board.

Ten-Strike Tom realized as much on the ‘
instant, and knowing that the stranger was ,
beyond his power to aid, he tui’ned eyes to- ‘
ward the door, beyond which now arose cx- !
cited voices. i

“Looks like the boys done ketched the I
shooter, eh?" muttered Moses, likewise look:
ing in that direction. “ Ef this yer’ critter ;
kin ’dentify him as— Ge thunder!"

He had turned to glance into the face of
the man of whom he was talking, just then,
and so for the first time divined the truth, as
written upon that haggard, lined, though
still outhful face.

“ )one croaked, or I’m a liar!”

“Yes, but— Guard him, Moses!”ordered
the Sport, as he stepped a little more to the
front. “Don‘t let any of the gang touch
him until— Stead ,now!”

There was hardly time to give more ex-
plicit instructions, but slow though he might
be, physically, Moses was keen and quick
enoug of wit to both take and act upon a
hint, when it came from a thoroughly trust-
worthy quarter.

Even as he spoke, the foremost of those
outside had reached the door, supporting be-
tween them the limp and nearly insensible
figure of a roughly-clad man.

“ Who have you there, gents?" demanded
the Sport, stepping forward, leaving the pro-
prietor to guard the dead. “Not—what!”
as he recognized the fellow who was then
being lowered to the floor by his carriers.

‘ Vince Purkiss, all right, sir!” volunteered
one of those who had been foremost in enter-
ing the saloon.

“But he never—did he ‘1”

“ Naw, he never didn’t !" harshly cut in an-
other of that little mob.

The last speaker stepped to the front, one
hapd resting on the butt of a horn-handled
knife, the other turned protectineg toward
the nearly senseless fellow now lying on the
blood-stained floor.

There was a rimly fierce, half-defiant ex-
pression upon is not uncomely face as he
spoke again:

“ He never done that, of ye mean the shoot-
iii‘——Vince Purkiss never didn't now. He jest
—you kin swear to us findin’ him, Deacon
Rank? You know he never didn’t hurt——
Jest look at the eyes of him, will ye?"

Another esture pointed his meaning still
more clear y, and as the now reviving man
made a move, turning his face more squarely
toward the light,Tom saw that a heavy blow
must have struck the fellow full between the
eyes, cutting his nose and discoloring both
optics. .

“ Deacon Rank ” Ballinger responded to
that appeal by a slow but emphatic nod of
his gray head, One hand combing the “ billy-
goat” beard which alone Oinamented his
coarse-featured face.

“ 1 don’t reckon Purkiss turned the trick,
sir, but mcbbe he knows who did do the job,
all the same!”

“Tell the whole of it, please.” ordered the
Sport. “ You were one of those who picked
h m up, I infer?”

Deacon Rankin Ballin er nodded his head,
still combing his grizzl beard.

“ Mehbe thar's them as kin tell a fuller
story, sir,” he began, like one who feels he
has an abundance of time to spare; and at-
that, Gaywortliy turned to another of the
part§;

“ ou tell, Wilson. What did you find
out, besides this fellow ?" I

“ This, Ten-Strike,” promptly .answered
the man addressed, holding out a service- ‘
worn Winchester repeating—rifle. “1 step-‘
ped on it just at the corner, ’cross the street, j
and then—by close looking—this!" . 5

He held forth amenipty cartridge-case of i
the same caliber, and as Ten-Strike Tom lift-

 

 

ed the shell to his nose, he knew by the seen

lthat the cartridge had been fired quite re—
 cently. .
‘ Holding the rifle where all might see, he

1worked the lever, deftly catching another

empty shell as it was ejected by‘ the smooth-
ly - working mechanism. Comparing the
shells, he found them of the same caliber.

" The stranger was shot—twice!” he said,
gravely, as he slipped the empty shells into
his pocket, then looked the rifle over quick-
ly, as though hoping to find some mark or
clue to prove its ownership.

If any such discovery was made, he failed

‘ to mention the fact, and then stepped back

to place the weapon behind the bar, where
it could not Well he meddled with by un-
authorized hands.

Returning, he asked Wilson to resume his
report.

That was briefly enough delivered, now
the weapon had been fully accounted for.

" lVe was too late to jump the critter who
done the shooting, sir, but just a bit around
the next corner, we found Vince Purkiss,
laid out like he was too cold to skin!”

“Then he could hardly have done the
shOoting, you think?”

“lt don't look like it, do you reckon,
boss?"

“Nur it hain't like it, nuther!" harshly
growled Dan Mixon, the fellow who had
been so swift to speak a word in defense of
his helpless partner a short time before.
“ Vince never—why should he, then?”

“Why should any person, for that mat-
ter?” bluntly cut in the Ten-Strike Sport,
with a half-impatient gesture. “Still, there's
been foul murder done, and if we’re white
men, we‘ll never rest until we’ve probed the
case to its very bottom!”

“ That‘s all right, an’ I’ll go in jest as deep
as ary one 0’ ye all, when it comes down to
bed-rock; but, them as throws dirt at my
pard, ehucks mud at me! An’ when he
cain’t fight back fer him own self, then Dan
Mixon’s doin’ the hot work fer all two both—-
see ?”

Savager sullen though his words were,
and coarse his speech, there was a grim sort
of heroism about the tough that brought an
approving smile to the handsome visage of
the King-Pin Sport.

No man living could more thoroughly ap-
preciate such blind fidelity as this, and he
made a mental note of the trait for possible
use in the future. ,

Whatever reply he might have made to
those words, however, was put aside by the
abrupt arousing of the battered pard, who
lifted himself to his feet, leaning heavily up-
on the strong arm which Dan Mixon instant-

‘ ly placed-at his service.

For the minute he was too dizzy for co~
herent speech. but as he began to rally once
more, Ten-Strike Toni spoke directly to
him:

“ You saw the fellow who did this shoot-
ing, Purkiss; who was it?”

“ Who says I see’d ’im?” -

“ That face of yours, for one thing, but-—
didn’t you see him?”

Vincent Purkiss almost rudely shook away
that supporting armpand snatching the dirt-
marked hat from a half-extended hand, put it
on his head, slouching the brim as though to
in part mask his bruised face.

He flashed a slow, surly glance around,
possibly counting the chances for and against
his escaping from the saloon without talking
further; but ifsucli was his real temptation,
he saw too much ardent curiosity to run the
risk, just then.

“Waal, ef ye cain’t git ’long ’thout the
hull of it, hyar she comes, all into a heap!

“I was jest sort 0' sa’nterin’ ’long by my
lonesome, when I hearn the shootin', an’

thinkin’mebbe thar'd be fun ’nough flyin’.

’round fer me to kctch a mouthful while
t'others was gittin’ a squar’ meal, I jest up-
foot an’ come this way a-hikin’ in a holy
hurry!"

“ And you saw—just what?"

“ A durned sight mo’ stars then I ever see
afore, even on a dead cl’ar night!" with a

. touch of grim humor unusual in one of his

saturnine disposition. “Fer l jest run chuck
up ' ’inst a club, or some sech. An’ then—-
waa . I tuck a lay-down, an’ thar I was when
the posse come up."

“ But you surely saw the fellow who
slugged you; who was he?” persisted the

9

y ,_ fl ,7“. ’_ I - ' _ ~, WE. -‘,._ Magi-3.: .‘H ,. ,_‘,.'. '3‘”: ‘ ,

 

6

The King—Pin Sport.

 

Sport, all the more eager to know, since he
saw how reluctant Purkiss was to make that
' identity known to the gathering.

He gave a low, surly growl then mum-
bled:

“ That's all right, bessl Mebbe I’d know
the critter ag'in of I was to meet him, an’
mebbe I wouldn't. Ary way, I hain’t
namin‘ no names—jest right now, nohow-—I
hain'tl"

Ten Strike Tom paused for a brief spat-c,
kcenly scanning that dark Visage, then he
abruptly demanded:

“ \Vas it ll. K. Jones, Purkiss?”

The fellow gave a slight. start, then stared
with wider eyes into the face of his inquisitor,
bluntly ejaculating:

“ Who’s he? Who’s Jones, aryhow?”

A rumbling bowl came from the lips of
the corpulent claimant, who surged forward,
gesticulating as he came, with the explosive
speech:

“That’s jest whatl Who’s ll. K. Jones,
I’m axin’ of ye all? llyar‘s me; I‘m one!
That’s Ilutnbly Kuss; he's two! An' now
you‘re spoutin' ’bout still another II. K!”

“hAnd hl’m the hownly lawfully legal
claimant—bl ham, tool” the lengthy claim-
ant squealingly interposed.

“ 0h, 0 hurt a hook for bullheads—you l”
disguste 1y rumbled his rival, with a gesture
of supreme scorn; then turning once more
upon the King-Pin Sport, to add the words:

“Right hyer ye see two as lays claim to
bein’ H. K. Jones, boss, an’ new ef thar’s
still another—cf we’re triplets—jest let us
know it fer dead-shore, so we kin git down
to cussin’ of our mother, who didn’t hev no
mo’ manners then to—oh, whar‘s the use?
Who kin do full jestica to sech adog-gun
’diculosity?”

With a despairing gesture the fat man fell
back, and, satisfied that he could wring no
further information from Vince Purkiss,
Ten-Strike Tom turned toward the counter
where the dead stranger lay, one hand light-
ly touching that motionless breast as be
slow] spoke:

“ orm in single file and circle past, gen-
tlemen. I want to learn if possible who this
poor fellow was in life, and if any man
among you all can recognize him—well, that
later on 1”

Awed in a measure by that unwonted
gravity, the men present complied with that

request, but each one passed on in silence,

shaking head in mute answer to the question
which the eyes of Thomas Gayworthy asked
each in their turn.

When the inspection was complete, with-
out any person recognizing the corpse, Gay—
worthy spoke:

“To my knowledge, I never saw this poor
fellow before tonight; but he was some-
body's darling, some time, and as such, I’ll
pay all expenses and see that he has an hon-
est if not exactly a stylish burial. All I ask
is, that some of you gentlemen who have
less pressing business on your hands than I
unfortunately have, will sort of oversee
matters.”

A murmur of approval greeted this gener-
ous speech, and Gayworthy added, in the
same sober tones:

"With you all as witnesses. gentlemen,
I’ll go through the poor fellow's clothes, on
the off-chance of finding something by which
he maybe identified, and so enable us to
notify absent relatives or friends. Is there
any objections raised 7”

“Jest so ye don’t find ary proof as he’s H.
K.— Ouch!”

An unseen hand had lent the fat claimant a
covert punch below the belt, and noting suns
dr menacing frowns on all sides, he wisely
, su sided for the time being. while Ten-Strike

Tom deliberately proceeded to search the
corpse for means of identification.

He found the garments more than damp,
as though he who wore them in life had
been forced to wade or swim river or creek
before reaching Leadville; it seemed as
though that new fact.was all his search was
destined to bring to light.

But, from a pocket in the ray-flannel
shirt worn by the dead man, he rew forth a
small, folded bit of dirty and Wet paper; wet
with the damp which pervaded all those
garments. r

Feeling that here at last must be a clue,
Gavworthy cautiously unfolded the paper,
bending close to the lamp as he strove in

 

vain to decipher the blurred writing that
scrap of paper contained.

Tnere Were only a few fragments of words
to be made out, among them “——son
Bai'———” and the two initials “ ll. K.” l-‘or
fully ten long minutes he pored over that
bit of paper, but at the end of that period he
abandoned his efforts, in present despair. As
he lifted his head to flash a keen glance
around over those present, he sharply ejacu-
lated:

“Wheres Vince I’urkiss and his pard,
Dan Mixon?“

 

CHAPTER V.
VINCE I’URKISS GOES 'ro PLAY l’.\'l£N,

Fort a brief space silence followed that
abrupt question; then a volunteer voice was
lifted. with the words:

“They done racked out, like they was in
a hurry to git somewhar, a good bit ago,
bossl”-

“An’ Deacon Rank hit pritty much the
same lick, like he was camped onto tha‘r
trail, or else wanted to keep ’em from feelin'
too mighty lonesome by tha’r two own
selvrs.” came from a second quarter.

So far as the two first-named persons were
concerned, this information was perfectly
correct.

The two pards had joined that line as sug-
gested by the King-Pin Sport, and were
among the first to view the corpse, passing
on with that mute ne ative as Thomas Gay-
worthy interrogated t em.

As they made way for those next in line,
Vince Purkiss pushed back a hand to give
his friend a significant pinch, then edged si-
lently toward the front door, passing swiftly
over the threshold as he saw Ten-Strike Tom
wholly absorbed in watching the. men re-
viewing that motionless body on the lunch-
counter.

Faithful as his own shadow, Dan Mixon
followed the lead of his pard, but before he
could ask the question which rose to his
lips, the bruised “rounder’ growlingly mut-
tered:

“Take to the bresh, like I’m a-doin’, pard-
nerl Skin out, ’fore that durn ’quisitive
Ten-Strike kin pueker to come ag‘in!”

While speaking thus, Purkiss turned
abruptly to the left, swinging around the
corner of the Good Luck Saloon cutting
diagonally across the vacant lots. making for
a dense mass of shade bordering the incom-
plete buildings which loomed up in that
quarter.

Not until this secure cover was reached did
Vince Purkiss slacken his silent speed, or
volunteer any information as to his reasons.
for “racking out ” from the Good Luck in
such suspicious haste.

Ile turned to his faithful shadow, saying
griml :

" Myebbe you don’t jest know it, pard, but
I’m gwine fer to fa’rly jolt the daylights
out o’ the p‘izen critter who— ’l‘he deuce!"

Vince I’urkiss broke off abruptly, hand
seeking knife-hilt as his restless gaze was
caught, and fixed by a roving figure near the
Good Luck Saloon.

That figure was in motion, and just as cer-
tainly coming their way, over the vacant
lots. If it had been hound instead of hu-
man, it could not have followed more true to
their trail! '

"Ef it’s that devil who—”

“ It's the deacon, Vince,” softly whispered
Mixon, his vision clearer than that of his
battered pard, for the time being. “Shell I
lend him a jolt, ef he comes too mighty nigh,
then?"

A brief silence, as though the ugly-
tempered tough was inwardly debating the
advisability 0 such a reception; but the on-
coming figure lifted an open palm, speaking
in tones barely loud enough to reach the ears
for which they were intended;

“Flag 0' truce, my gentle sinnersl I’m
comin’ in all peace unto ye, an’ it‘d be a
pesky shame ef ye was to give a kick for a
holy kiss!”

“ I'le’s shuckin’ the rags 0’ sin, an’ climb-
in’ into his holy gyarmints!” muttered Dan
Mixon, half in mocker , half in seriousness.
“ Shell I jolt him, or ner?” .

“Button up! E thar’s ary oltm’needed,
reckon I km— Stiddy thar )enk!"

“The. flag o‘ peace is still a tlontin’, oh,
my gentle sinnersl” came in turn from the

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deacon, both of his hands now rising above
his head, but his neck taking a sudden twist
as his gaze turned backward as though with
sudden apprehension.

“Reckon I'd better hit the dark’. fellows,
’fore that ungodly Ten-Strike ".‘em bulges
out fer to keteh—jest so!” ' '

Like one fairly insured against harm, if
not assured of a welcome, Rankin Ballinger
pushed forward, only pausing when close to
the two pards, and enveloped by the shadows
which covered them.

“What’s it ’bout Ten-Strike?" gruflly de-
manded I’urkiss

“ Ile’s red-hot to ketch on to the rights 0‘
this bit 0’ trouble, an‘ ef he was to line ye
off on a sudden trip like this, it’s heavy odds

on don’t shake him cl'ar ’thout lettin’ him

now all you know—an’ all you’re takin’ fer
granted, as welll”

“ I don’t see what you—"

“ That's all right, pardner,” briskly cut in
the deacon, with a wave of his grimy paw.
“I look on you gents as part 0’ my reg’lar
congregation, an’ so I'm gwine ’long to see
you don't come to no harm this blessed night:
so tharl

“ Yes, you be

“Fer a dead shore fact, Vineentl I'd a
heap sight ruther go with you, but of I cain’t
do no better, then I'll tag ’long behind with
'I‘en- Strike Tom to help keep my spcrrets up!
Now. which shell she be, gents?”

Purkiss flung forth a hand with an angry
vehemence at this.

“Nyther one nur t’otherl Ez fer Tom
Gayworthy—”

Deacon Rank spat sharply to one side,
scraping a sole swiftly as a further token of
intense disapproval.

“ Aughl He makes me all-over tired! He
puts on too mighty many fancy frills! An’
who’s he, to want to run the whole town the
way 0’ this? Why, jest to think—"

“That’s all right, pardner,” grufin inter-
rupted the tough. in his turn. “I hain’t no
sort 0’ use fer the Sport, m own self, but
when I want to blackguard him, reckon I’ll
do it to his face, not ahind his back, like you
saints play it, anyway!”

Deacon Ballinger made a deprecatory ges-
ture. but it was scarcely heeded, and Purkiss
spoke on:

“Yes or no don't make no difference to
me. Deak. I’m gwine fer to play even fer
ilflIlS jolt I ketched, ef it takes a hind leg
0 l"

“ I’m more’n ready to help you play even,
pardner, fer—”

“Which I hain’t a-wantin’, an’ that's talk
with the bark on, Deakl You go your way,
jest as we’re gwine mine. An’—ef you’re
not quite through with this yer’ Wl-l‘ld 0’ sin
an’ tribble-ation, Deak, I don’t reckon you’d
best trall us ary furder: see ‘2"

With a significant gesture, Purkiss turned
from the elder man, nodding to Don Mixon
as a signal to follow the lead he was now
giving.

The two pards walked away at a brisk gait
for some little distance, then looking over a
shoulder to make sure the deacon was not
dog ing them, Vince muttered by way of
exp anation:

“ Mebbe the critter was playin’ clean white,
an’ mebbe he wasn’t. No mighty matter
’ither way, ferI kin serve my own self when
it comes to— I sa , pardner!"

“ Keep on a-saym’ of it, Purkissl”

“ You're with me, bain’t ye, Dan?”

“ You bet I be, pardnerl"

“Good enough! Now I’m openin’ up to
ye, pardncr, an’ this is jest the way of it all:
You know what a nasty jolt I ketched, buCk
yonder?”

Mixon nodded.

“ All right! Mind ye. 130W. I Wasn’t lyin’
when I told yen’ Sport twasn’t tnore’n a
weent limpse I done. ketched o’ the critter
afore {elm me out. mltlhty nigh cold ’nough
fer skinnin’; but. an, the same. I couldn’t
mistake the p’izen critter ef I was to try to,
middth was it, Vince?"

“I‘m gwine fer t0100k the critter up at his
own den, right DOW, Pardner: will you back
me u in the job?"

“ ho was it, Purkiss?”

“ Patsy McCarthy. no less!” ,

Dan Mixon save a visible start, at this
name. and twisting that surprise to his disad.
vantage, the tough surlily growled:

l”

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The King-Pin Sport.

 

‘.‘ All right, my covey, if that's the'way it
strikes ye! I'm askin' nyther odds nur
favors o’ fri'nds ur foes. I‘ll go it alone.”

“That rough jolt’s sort 0’ upsot your level,
pardner, or you wouldn't sling your clapper
all crooked like that: All I wanted Was fer
you to p’int out the right head so plain I

'couldn't make no mistake when it come to
hittin’ for keeps: see?"

Willi a warm grip of the hand, which
closed upon his own, the brief cloud drifted
aWay, leaving not even a shadow on the
friendly horizon.

Vince Purkiss m0ved onward once more,
now and then casting a Wary glance around,
like one who has no desire to be (logged by
friend or by foe, and, in like manner, letting
fall an occasional sentence, by putting which
together Dan Mixon finally had a fairly ac-
curate notion of the actual facts.

Although Vince Purkiss had been taken
completely by surprise, and had caught but
it fleeting glimpse of the man who leaped
upon him with slung-shot or pair of metal
Knuckles, striking as he came, like one who
meant to break a skull if it lay in the wood,
he had no hesitation in swearing he had by
that transitory vision recognized an old
enemy, one Patsy McCarthy by name

Dan Mixon knew who that was, and his
face took on sterner lines as he thought of
What might be lying in advance: not from
Patsy himself, although the burly Irishman
was surely a tough nut to crack, but from
the gang at whose head he stood.

Still, the taciturn pard never flinched.
Where his male might lead, there he was
ready to follow, willing to take his share of
the hard knocks, and just as many which by
rights belonged to that mate, as he Could
contrive to turn his way.

Vince Purkiss also made clear his plan of
campaign, wasting few words in setting it
forth, since bold simplicity formed its first,
last, total features.

“ We’ll look him up at his hole, fu’st, an’
of he hain't thar—waal, we‘ll run the durn
thwn through a Sifter ontel we do find
him!”

“I’m hopin’ we’ll ketch him at home,
then,” quietly observed Mixon.
mgr; hain’t a-keerin’, jest so we do find

“Fer ef thar, ’tain’t likely he’ll hev his
hull gang to the back 0' him—see?” explain-
ed the less voluble tough.

Purkiss slouched onward, doggedly fol-
lowing the course he had marked out for
himself from the first, yet flashing keen
glances around, as though haunted by a sus-
picion of being spied upon

The two pards soon approached a. story-
and ahalf building which Certainly could
not be more than a few years old, since the
town itself was no more ancient than that,

et already showing signs of decay, so hasti
y and carelessly had it been run up to meet a
pressing want.

Here it was that Patsy McCarthyhved,
with Biddy, his wife, for sole companion in
his hours of ease; for children had they none,
as the plain spoken washerwoman gave
hearty thanks whenever Patsy Came home
with a full load aboard—and that was often
enough, too!

I’ausing where the shadow cast by the
nearest building served to mask their shapes,
the two took a slow and thorough survey of
the place.

A dim ray of light slipping past the edge
of a cloth curtain at one of those dormer
windows which broke the roof outline,
showod that the shanty occupant was up-
stairs for the night.

“ IIe’s up yonder, or thar’d be lights on the
lower level!" muttered Purkiss, as be tight-
ened his belt and stretched out his sinewy
arms like one who feels a tough struggle
lies just ahead. “All right! Ef I hain’t
missed my guess wuss than I commonly
does, it‘ll be a heap-sight eaSIer to git in at
yen’ door, then on the lower leVell” '

“It’s a bu'st-in you mean, pardncr‘? ’ asked
Mixon.

“ Reckon Patsy'd open for a common
call?" gruflly laughed the other tough, mov-
ing around tower the opposite end of that
dwelling, where an outside stairway led to
the upper half-story. “ Augh! It's a s’prise
party that'll ketch the divil slickest—see?"

Althou h he spoke so boldly, Purkiss evi-
dently dit not too greatly underestimate his

. .

 

v...  _.,<,  t.  . -rv «

enemy, for he paused when at the foot of
those rickety ste s, both ears and eyes on the
keen alert for a fiill minute.

Nothing greeted either sense more than the
ordinary sounds of the night, and fairly sat-
isfied that, so far at least, his sworn enemy
had no idea of his dangerous proximity, the
tough slowly began to mount the stairs,
closely followed by his devoted pard

The gained the small Square leading un—
der the projecting caves, and Purkiss bent
an ear to the frail wooden door which alone
barred their passage now.

“Never a sr’mnd, Dan!” he reported, ris-
ing and turning amassive shoulder toward
the door. “ All eyes open now, for—hyar ,
roes!"

With a heavy surge, he dashed his shoul— 1
der against the door, adding his full weight j
to the shock in order to make all sure.

 

CHAPTER VI.
A LIONEss IN THE PATH.

ONLY a specially-prepared door could suc—
cessfully have resisted such an assault as this,
and with a splintering sound, the fastenings
gave way, the barrier swinging wide, to ad-
mit the two pards, both with weapons in
their hands and ready for hot and stem busi-
ness.

The thud, the crackling, the slam of the
ruined door as it swung violently back
against the plastered wall, made noise enough
to almost waken the dead, let alone reuse the
sleeping, and the toughs saw a portly figure
Spring from a chair near a rude table on
which stood a flaring candle in its tallow-
dotted stick.

“ Ow wow!
annyhow?"

Thus exploded this startled woman; but,
instead of rushing forward to a close with

What the divil d’ye m’ane,

thirsty blade, Vince Purkiss actually re-l

coiled, giving a short malediction as he
flashed a wicked glance around that poorly-
furnished chamber.

He had counted upon takin his bitterest

enemy by surprise, but instea —here he was '

confronted only by Bridget McCarthy, duti~
ful spouse to Patsy, the Bold!

More useful than ornamental, braver than
beautiful, Biddy McCarthy was certa'nly a
host in herself, if size and physical dimen-
sions alone be taken into consideration.

If her eyes Were small, her mouth made
ample amends in the opposite direction. If
her nose savored of the pug, her powerful
jaws certainly favored that royal cousin, the
bull-dog!

With shawl-shielded shoulders which were
broad enough for a heaVy-weight prize
fighter, and bared arms which nature had
generously supplied with muscle, toughened
and added to by years of daily labor OVer
wash-board and clothes-wringer; wi'h body
and lower limbs in just proportion, surely
this now startled woman made an obstacle in
the way which even yonder tough could not
aff'ird to wholly despise.

.That first sweeping glance convinced Pur-
kiss that his particular game of that night
was not in that chamber, and with difiicuhy
smothering a vicious curse, he harshly de-
manded:

“Whar’s Patsy, Mrs. McCarthy?”

“ Faix, an‘ who’s ye that’s askin’ that same,
thin?” spluttcringly exploded the woman,
brushing a red and toil—roughened hand
across her eyes, where slumber was still
lingering as though loth to (le art for good.

“That’s all right, whoever he. Where’s
the dirty cur hidin’ from his—-”

“Ow-wow!” fairly roared the now thor-
oughly awakened woman, her eyes flashing
like fire, her face turning purple with hot
rage as she plunged across to where the stove
was standing, stooping to catch up a heavy
ll‘OD poker. “To yersrlf that same dirt, be-
gorral An’ hoidin’, is it? Aughl yaughl
will ye, thin?"

And so fierce was her indignation over

that insult to her husband, the amazon _,

plunged forward, swinging the heavy poker
as she charged, aiming blow after blow at the
head of Vince Purkiss, either one of which
would surely have split his skull had the two
come in fair contact.

But, the tough knew right well how to
hand-guard his head, and wi h the stout
knife which he had (ll‘a\\'ll in readiness for
use on Patsy McCarthy as his shoulder burst

,s, a

open the door, he dexterously turned aside
sueh blows as he could not readily dodge,
gruiiiy crying out:

"Out 0’ the way, pard! Eyes open fer
Patsy, but let me keer fer this snatch-cat o'
cussedness! I'll cyarve ye, Biddy! I‘ll
split ye wide as a salty mack’rel ef ye
don't—”

“Will ye—will ye, thin?" still viciously
flourishing that dangerous weapon to Which
her strong fingers fitted so
“ Schnatch-cat, is it? Biddy, Oi am, eh?
Patsy’s the mahn, d’ye think ? Aughl
yaugh! come oot 0‘ thot, ye thafe 0’ the
woorrld l"

Right merrily steel and iron clinked to
gether for a brief space, then Vince Purkiss,
catching the poker against the hilt of his
weapon, flung it to one side by pure might
of muscle, then stepped closer, giving a
. short, vicious laugh as he flashed the bright
l blade so close in front of the virago’s eyes
i that Biddy recoiled involuntarily, giving
' vent to a low cry that was not all fierce de—
‘ fiance.

Whether or no the athletic tough really
meant to flesh his steel upon this, his unex-
pected adversary, can only be surmised, for
I just then another actor came upon the scene,
j and a strong hand closed upon the wrist of
l the armed right hand, forcing the weapon
downward.

“Peace, my sinful friends!” came in the
‘ voice of Deacon Ballinger, as he partly
1 swung Vince Purkiss around, himself step-
ping in bt tween the woman and the tough.
“Let dogs delight to bark and— Flag 0‘
truce, my winsomc angels!”

Up lifted his free right hand, in a gesture
of placation toward Biddy McCarthy, who
had recoiled to the side of the rude table on
which stood the lighted candle.

Of the trio thus surprised, not the least
taken aback was Dan Mixon, to whom had
been assigned the position of “ case-keeper,"
while his pard attended to the awakened
Amazon.

He had failed to notice the approach of
the velvet-footed deacon, who had stood for
the space of a single breath at the threshold,
viewing that scene, before taking part in the
little play.

But now, rallying quickly, the lesser tough
Spoke up:

“Shell I jolt him, pard? Say the word.
an’ I’ll make his heels break his pesky neck
—so I will, now!”

“Don’t you say it, Purkiss, my low!"
suggested the deacon, not so deeply absorbed
in saving another from harm that he had no
thought for his own preservation. “ I‘m
here as a holy peacemaker, and so let me
pour soothing oils over that troubled sea of—
Oh ah!” '

He ducked and flung up a warding arm as
Biddy Mc( arthy made an angry gesture
with that heavy weapon, his coarse features
taking on such a comical twist of mingled
fear, anger, warning reproof, that Vince
Purkiss broke into a short and grim
chuckle.

“ Don't! I shorely mean ye Well, ma'am l"
hastily spluttered the dodging deaCon, as the
tough jerked his knife-hand free. “ I'm here
in the holy interests of balmy peace, and—
Steady, Purkiss!”

Sharp was the contrast in both voice and
looks, for Deacon Ballingcr now confronted
; the armed tough, his own right hand diving
out of sigh‘. in a side pocket, where the lift-
ing cloth more than hinted at a pistol of
some description, all ready for masked busi-
ness.

“I’m here for peace, and peace I'll have,
if I’m forced to fight the whole ranch for itl
Steady—as you were, gents! And you, Mrs.
McCarth —lady is as lady acts!”

A brie pause, barely long enough for the
two pards to fairly realize that he held the
drop, masked though that holding was. then
Deacon Ballinger spoke again, in his former
,tones and accent:

“I'm a holy flag 0’ truce, which's got a
talkin‘ tongue coupled on to it, for the good
1 0’ law an’ order, my gentle friends an’ feller-
sinnersl An’ as sech —hear me in de-
concy, I implore thee, sister, 311’ you, my
brethern!”

“An’ who may ye be, that takes so
moighty much ah'nlo yersilf, fuith? Be
what roights d'yeez inthrude ahn a lone
wummahn who hasn’t anny wan to sthep to

 

 

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8

 

 

 

the front—wirra come the bitthcr black day,
thin!" and Biddy McCarthy “braced up "
once more, gripping her familiar weapon
Evith fingers which fairly itched for the
ray

“My name is Ballinger, ma'am," an5wered
the deacon, taking off his hat long enough
to make a polite bow to the flushed Amazon.
“ I am sometimes called deacon, because of
my peace-loving dis—”

“Divil a care do Oi care av ye war a
praste, faith, whin ye come boorsthin' in the
dure av an honest gurrl, an’ throyin’ to
slaughther the weife av a men who———"

“Where is he, Mrs. McCarthy?" broke in
the deacon, speaking with a greater assump~
tion of authority, even while he was plainly
in readiness to duck and dodge to save his
pate from that again flourishing weapon.

“Where is who, thin, ye sootherin’ scut,

e?”
y “Your husband, Patrick McCarthy, of
course. Where is he? for—”

“Whey av ceorse‘? An’ whey is it where
he is, thin? Be what reight do ycez inthrude
ahn me proivacy, thin? An' whey w'u’dn’t
Oi be h’atin’ in the t'ree heads av ycez, anny-
how, Oi wahnt to be knowin’, thin?"

Once more the irate woman made her rush,
and once again her heavy poker came in
sharp contact with the trusty blade which
Purkiss knew so well how to handle.

And once more Biddy McCarthy recoilcd
as Rankin Ballinger came to the front, his
strong fingers gripping that knife-armed
hand, forcing it backward and downward,
his face stern and his tones sharp as he
cried:

“Peace, woman! \Vc wish ou no harm,
but if you persist in standing in the way of
law and justice— Where is your husband,
woman?"

“ What is it ye want of Patsy, sor?" asked
Biddy. in turn, cewcd in a goodly measure
by that authoritative manner.

“ He is suspected of committing murder
this very night, and—”

“Who dares to aven hint the leike av
that, I wahnt to know?" fiercely burst forth
the washcrwoman, poker quivering and left
arm rising to shake a tightly-clinched fist
before that stem face. “ Who says me mahn
w‘u’d sthoop so low as to— Whin was it,
thin?”

“This evening, not more than—"

“Ah-ha! ’tis in the divil's own leie Oi'm’
catehin’ yeez, faith!” exultantly cried Mrs.
McCarthy, swinging free arm and brandish-
ing poker at the en of its mate, her coarse-
shod feet spatting the floor in abrief-lived
jig of triumph. Y “He niver did it, foor he
c’u'dn‘t, begorra!”

With a surly snarl, Vince I’urkiss wrestcd
his right hand out of the deacon’s clutch,
even shouldering that werthy rudely to one
side as he surged forward a pace, tomore
squarely confront the amazon.

“ Will ye take a squint at this, Biddy Mc-
Carthy, then?” hosaid, at the same time lift-
ing a finger to his bruised face, to sweep it in
front of his dreadfully blackened eyes.

“ Ali-ha! the purthy paintin,’ thin!"laugh-
ed the virago, hands going to hips as she
viewed these discolored optics with huge
satisfaction. “ ’Tis coortin’ ye‘d ought to be
marrchin’ Misther Poorkiss, faith! Av
shaapes oyes be precious to lady-love, faix,
’tis thim ye’d be cashtin’ her way that ought
to be woorth tin-double the much, foor thim
same is moi hty black shaape-oyes, an’ scarce
accoordin’, egonies!"

In grim silence Vince Pin-kiss waited to
the end of this voluble taunt, then spoke in
his turn, slowly, like one who means to make
each and every word count for its full value.

“Patsy McCarthy gave me these eyes,
ma’am. Not more than one short hour one
by, either. And he was running away mm
the place whar he’ butchered a white man,
without Word or warnin’, like a dirty cur!"

Biddy McCarthy laughed again as the
ten h declared this the handiwork of her
bus and, but that mirth was'short-lived, and
even before his slow accusation reached an
endin , her voice was lifted up in a wailing
cry 0 bitter grief.

“Wirra—wirra—wirrasthruel The avil
loies that’s pourin’ acrass the divilish lips av
this dirth sent, an’ me poor man stritched
out ahn t e flat a‘v his blisscd back the whole
av this long day!”

“ Get out you!” harshly cried Purkiss, his

 

 

The King-Fink Sport.

face flushing hotly as he suspected another
cunning pitfall for his feet. “Bald-faced

lyin’ can't do you no good, Biddy, no more’n ;

it kin save Patsy McCarthy from pulling
hemp for shootin‘—"

“ Steady!” came a warning voice from the
little landing just without the open door.
“ Keep your level, everybody, and—— Is it
you, Biddy?"

With an abrupt change of tone, the new-
comer sprung quickly inside the room, and
the washerwoman gave a low cry of intense
relief as she recognized a gentleman who had
patronized her very liberally of late, and in
whom she fancied she surely recognized a
friend an] protector.

“Oh, Misther Tam! The salve foor sore
eyes ycez be, thin! An’ ahl av these dirthy
divils who—‘tis me own mahn they say was
a murthererl”

“An’ I’m still sayin’ that same. toe
doggedly growled Purkiss. his armed right
hand lifting a bit, as though he felt it best
to be on uard.

“ An’ atsy loyin‘ thay're wid his leg ahl
br-ruken to splinthcrst” sohhed Biddy, drop-
ping her poker and stepping back to tlin
wide another door, revealing a dimly-lightefl
chamber, where stood a cot-bed, on which
lay stretched out the form of a muscular
man.

“Will e luuk at that, now, Misthur Tami
\Vill ye aal av his leg the docthors daubed
ahl up wid white morther, thin! \Vill ye—
Oh, Patsy! me mahn—me noble b’ye who’d
niver lit the loikes av thim thaves av the
weorrld insoolt the woife av yer buzzon—ne,
be the Hill 0’ Ilowtli l” ,

Ten-Strike ’I‘om quickly stepped to the
bedside, bending over the man who was
breathing regularly, evidently under the in-
fluence of a powerful opiate. since all that
disturbance had failed to awaken him.

He saw that one leg was set in plaster,
thickly bandaged, and fully convinced that
this could not be the unknown assassin, he
turned away with a puzzled frown upon his
face—to almost run against a cooked and
leveled revolver OVer which glittered two
stern eyes!

V)

CHAPTER VII.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

AT a slightly earlier hour than that which
marked the sanded floor of the Good Luck
Saloon with human blood, in Leadville. cer-
tain events were transpiring in the city of
Denver, not only of interest in themselves,
but of especial interest to more than one of
the characters already introduced to the
reader. _

A neatly-dressed young lady, Miss Fanny
Barbour by name, was leisurely proceeding
in the direction of her boarding‘place, after
a brief shopping tour in quest of a feminine
trifie or two in the business portion of the

cit .

The night was clear and just sufiieicntly
cool to feel bracing after the customary
warmth of the daily sun.

The gas-lamps were lighted at alley-mouth
and street corners, while the shop windows
were brilliartly illuminated for the double
purpose of displaying their wares to the best
advantage and attracting the human moth of
ye ilump pocketbook.

bliss Barbour swung a fairly fat one of
her own from daintin gloved fingers as she
slackcned pace when n front 0f 8 Wide
show-window crowded with toys of all sorts,
shalt-dreamy smile playing about her full
red lips as memory turned backward to her
earlier days, when an exhibition akin to this
would have seemed a peep through the celes-
tial gates to her childish eyes.

She neither saw nor heard that coarse,
bummer-like fellow who glided on tiptoc to
her side, then snatched that swinging
pocketbook out of her hand, even as he
turned to dart around the near corner.

A faint scream broke from her lips as she
first shrunk back, then impulsively sprung
forward at recognition of her preperty in
that lawless clutch, one hand shootin forth
as though to arrest and detain that an acious
tramp. .

“Button yer lip, cuss yet” the fellow
growled, menacing her with the heavy stick
lfieagarried. “Sbet trap, or I’ll mash yer

e I”

 

 

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,v ,. . 1  . , .. v -— . '~
w .‘.u.-,_.:.- , ._  ,. 

 

“Oh, no, I really wouldn’t, now!“

With the words came a sharp stroke that
knocked the stolen property from the
tramp‘s hand, drawing a yell of mingled
rage and pain from his lips as his barked
knuckles swung back to his side, seemingly
on a crippled hand.

Until then neither lady nor tramp had~

taken note of that trim, fashionably garbed
figure cutting across the street to the corner
they were occupying, and after his first
stroke was dealt, 'twas all too late for the
pocketbook-snatcher to do more than guard
his skull with club.

That neat cane seemed intended for use as
well as for ornament, and as the battled
tramp beat a hasty retreat from the Scene of
his attempted robbery. cane and club rattled
together right merrily, with an occasional
duller sound which almost surely denoted
bruised flesh and aching bones.

iarely long enough to have the semblance
of a contest; then the end came as the thiev-
ing tramp took to his heels in headlong
flight, and, disdaining to chase him further,
the gentleman turned back to the corner,
reaching it just in time to steep for the
pocketbook which Fanny Barbour had sight-
ed, an instant earlier.

“Allow me, madam,” tipping hat as he
held forth the recovered purse with neatly-
gloved hand. “ if I mistake not, this is
your property ?"

“Oh, thanks—thank you, sir!
that dreadful—ugh!”

Fanny shivered, one hand rising to her
throat to subdue that strange sensation of
suffocation, her form unsteady until a shoul-
der touched the corner of the building.

The stranger impulsively reached forth a
hand as though to lend her support, but
stopped just short of touching her person,
speaking with a peculiar mixture of anxiety
and indignation:

“Did that seeundrel dare——if he has hurt
you, madam, I shall run him down and turn
him over to the police, if it takes an age!
Did lie—you are not hurt, then?”

The last query came with an air of relief
as Miss Barbour rallied and seemed more like
her usual self. She forced a smile as her
eyes met his magnetic orbs, and he was an-
swered even before her lips parted.

“I am not hurt at all, sir. hut—~if I admit
being sorely frightened, would it deserve a
blush?"

“ Surely not, but—you don’t wish to have
your name figure in the police court reports,
of course?”

The stranger made a quick gesture which
pointed his meaning, and as the young we‘-
man turned her eyes in that direction, she
caught sight of atall figurein police uniform,
coming their way as though his interest or
his suspicions had been awakened by sight
or sound of that short-lived struggle on the
corner.

“ Pardon me, please,” whispered the man,
as he caught and drew one of those loved
hands through his arm, gently urging anny
Barbour around the corner of the building,
thus assing from the vision of the police-
man, if indeed his eyes had taken note of
them. “I know how a lady must shrink
from such publicity, and if I may be so hon-
ored,1'll see you safely past that peril, at
least!"

Fanny said nothing, just then, but her
fin crs closed gratefu ly on the arm of the
gal ant stranger who had so opportuner
come to her assistance, and not until they
had hurried along for several blocks was an-
other word Spoken by either. Then he re-
marked:

“ We have fairly distanced the officer,
Miss—ahemi”

He broke off with a real or admirably
counterfeited cough, but the maiden flushed
a hit, as she took it for a courteous hint, and
without stopping to CODSIdCr Whether or no
she was acting prudently , Etammel‘ed:

“Barbour—~my name 18 Fanny Barbour,

Yu

I never—

“ And mine is Wallace Gilmore, wholly at
your service," answered the 'oung man, once
more defiing hat and making a polite bow,
then giving 8 low mellow lau h which went
far toward removing that feeling of embar-
rassment. “If hardly formal, at least our
introduction is honest, Miss Barbour, and—
may our friendship ‘keep pace with the age
of our acquaintance! ' ‘

   

 

K

II‘,‘

 

 

 

 

Th‘egKingg-Pin Sport. m

 

 

The maiden shrunk a bit at this ending,
for there certainly seemed more of earnest-
ness than one is wont to put in jest or airy
nothing; but if Mr. Gilmore noted this, he
gave no sign, resuming their walk as he
spoke agein:

“I just happened to glimpse the knave
creeping toward you, Miss Barbour, and
though I could hardly give him credit for
making such an audacious attempt to enrich
himself at your expense, I turned across the
street sooner than Imight have done, only
for that sight."

“I wish I knew how to thank you, sir,"
her great blue eyes glancing briefly up to his
handsome face, then as quickly Vailing their
light as his gaze was met.

“In expressingr that wish, Miss Barbour,
you haVe already more than thanked me,”
came the quick assurance, his free hand ven-
turingr to just close over the little hand rest-
ing on his other arm for an instant, then
falling away as its owner added: “After all,
what did I do!”

“Quite sufiicient to win my gratitude,
sir.”

“Thanks, in my turn, Miss Barbour! But
—-permit me, please! I merely barked the
knuckles and cracked the crown of a hulk-
ing brute who ought to have pulled hemp
years ago, judging from his hang-dog vis

,age! And—this is your way, Siiss Bar-
hour?”

The young lady had suddenly slackcned
her pace, partly withdrawing her hand from
his arm as Wallace Gilmore was about to
cross that intersecting street.

“I turn this way, yes. Pray do not let
me take on further out of your way, Mr.
Gilmore, or—”

“ If your way is mine, though ?"

“How can it be, when you were going
down-town?"

“Then; but now—listen, Miss Barbour,
please! I have a fair young sister of my
own, far away toward the rising sun, and if
she should fall among thieVes, as you came
so perilously near doing, only a few minutes

' ago, would I not wish her an honest escort

tuntil safely home again ‘2"

There was no mistaking his real meaning,
and once more a soft ush came into the
maiden‘s faceas she yielded to the charm of
that mellow voice, and made no resistance
to the warm hand which gently closed over
hers as it rested on that srnewy if not large

arm.

“ If I thou ght—”

“ Pardon, Miss Barbour, but I could never
forgive myself were Ito lose sight of you be-
fore at your home, in safety Though I
think I read that tram a pretty fair lesson,
there are too many 0 his sort skulking on
the loose, for a lady to pass through these
streets wholly unprotected, after dark.”

The maiden shivered a bit at the memory
thus revived, and if she had doubted before,
that hesitation was now gone.

“Ihave but a short distance further to
go, sir, but if you think—4f you really wish

“Thanks, Miss Barbour!” gladly catching
at that opening. “This is the way, 1 be-
lieve?"

He turned down the street already indi-l
cated as the right course, and wisely saying
nothing further on that point, once it was
won, talked of his own fair young sister, liv-
ing in the cottage home near the Canada line,

‘ in Western New York.

n ‘,
adhere," ‘

Without precisely saying so, Gilmore lent
the inference that Fanny Barbour closely re-
sembled that far~away relative whose praises
he sung so cordially, yet so adroltly that it
was almost as though his encomiums belong-
ed to this maiden in place of that one!

Yet, through it all, Wallace Gilmore ap-
peared the thorough gentleman, and so well
did he manage matters that, short though
the remaining distance was, ere that abiding-
place was reached, he had made avery favor-
able impression upon the young lady.

There was alighted gasjet over the door
of the house in front of which Fanny Bar-
bour had come to a bait, and it required no
second glance on Gilmore’s part to recognize
a boarding-house of the second-rate.

Gently slipping her hand from his arm,
Fanny again murmured her thanks for his
services. but the young man hardly seemed
to hear her words, and certainly did not heed
them as they surely deserved.

 

The gaslight was falling fairly over her
face, and with his own cmntenance wearing
a sorely-puzzled look, Wallace Gilmore mut-
tered:

“Strange—so stranget Surely a stranger
up to this hour, and yet—where have I seen
that face before?"

Fanny Barbour gave a little start, catching
her breath as her hands came togetln r in a
nervous clasp, face turning almo~t ghastly
pale as she looked with big eyes into his
facc.

“I never—and yet— Miss Barbour,wherc
have I seen a face so very like, yet unlike
yours?" '

Almost sternly came that abrupt question,
but the maiden did not shrink from it. giv-
ing a quick gasp, then impulsively eXclaim-
ing:

“Like mine?
to be true!"

She pushed back the curling locks which ‘

artially shaded her forehead, turning her

ace more fully toward the light for closer .
inspection, yet without the faintest hint of
coquetry in it all.

“Look, sir! My face-~likc my face, you I
say? There is no mistake? You have really t
seen a face—whose was it, then?”

ller voice lost something of its wonted
music through intense anxiety, but that all ,
the more plainly proved her earnestness, and ‘
Wallace Gilmore seemed anything but at
carping critic, just then.

He placcd a hand on either shoulder the
better to view that countenance, neither one
of the pair giving thought to what others
might infer should any curious eyes be
turned their way 'ust then.

“ So very like! uch a strong resemblance,
yet—am I turned foolish? Surely the face
my memory calls up was not—not yours,
Miss Barbour! No! The face I mean be-
longed to a man who—"

“Father—to my poor, lost father!”

Huskily came that choking cry, and tears
dimmed the great eyes into which Wallace
Gilmore was gazing so keenly yet so perplex-
ediiy there under the gaslight.

anny Barbour shrunk away, her head
drooping, her trim figure shuddering like
one caught by an ague-fit.

“ Your father?” ejaculated Gilmore, some-
thin likea revelation showing itself in his
han some face. “Surely he could not—the
man I now have in mind, was not—how
could he be your father, though?”

Fanny strove to speak, but at first without
much success. Emotion far beyond the
common had sorely shaken her nerve, and
for a few moments she could say nothing,
one hand going out to gain support from the
iron railing which guarded the low, broad
steps which led up to the front door of'the
boarding-house.

“ My father was—oh, sir! If you can give
me any news of my poor lost parent, I'll
never forget—I’ll thank you with my dying
breath!” -

“ If I only might But your father—what
was his name, then f"

“ Anson Barbour, and—”

“What! Anson Barbour. your father?”
cried Gilmore, swiftly.

CHAPTER VIII.
nurses on THE LOST ONF.

His face, even more than his Words, pro~
claimed the fact that this was not the first
time he had heard of that name, and as she
realized as much, Fanny Barbour turned
fainter than before, seemingly on the point
of sinking to the pavement in a swoon when
that strong arm once more flew forth to lend
her support.

I" Courage, Fanny!" the gentleman said,
his own interest powerful enough to excuse
his sudden lack of formality. “I will tell
you all I know about— But this is hardly
the place to talk, is it 7”

He flashed an uneasy glanco around them,
but his words. though hardly such as he
would have chosen under less embarrassing
circumstances, certainly produced the de-

Oh, if it only might prove

 

sired effect, for the maiden “braced up” ‘

wonderfully, shrinking slightly from that
encircling arm, yet with trembling hand
moving to clasp his arm as she panted:
“You must—I must hear—will you step
inside, sir?"
“Gladly!” and his clearing eountenance
certainly bore strong testimony to his per-

'

- \.,,. . t.'

. ', .‘I  j “I.” ,

 

feet sincerity so far. “ I would have begged
the favor of a private interview where we
can talk more comfortably than out here on
the pave, only— Allow me, please!"

But for once Fanny Barbour cvadul his
proffered aid, springing up the steps lightly,

.face flushing with rnaidenly pride as it

tingled under those last Words, which Walr
lace Gilmore hardly meant should produce
such an effect.

The door Swung open at her touch. and

' stepping inside, Fanny paused to permit the

entrance of her strangely won acquaintance,
then closed the barrier behind him, moving

t swiftly along the wide hallway. opening an-

other door which admittance to a
dimlylighted parlor.

“Please, wait for me lwrc. Mr Gilmore.
she said with a reserve \\'l|l(‘ll sh»- had not
exhibited before those, IlllllH Ly sentences let

ESVU

n

- fall by her escort, a few Illiiit‘n'uls tu fore.

“Gladl if You :tre— You will come
.Y’ .

. back, Miss Barbour?" asked the gtntleman,

as he crossed thcthreshoid, wheeling as the

‘ maiden turned away like One beating a re-
] treat.

“Surely I have not offended you?"

“No, no, don‘t think it for a moment, siri
I‘ll come—wait for me, please! I must bear—
Wait for me, sir!”

'i‘hat period of waiting was not unduly
prolonged, for Fanny Barbour felt a feverish
eagerness to hear what this handsome stran-
ger had to say concerning the patent for
whose return she had longed so vainly; but
brief though that interval was, it enabled
both girl and man to fairly recover the com-
posure they had lost for the minute.

Althcugh lacking a trifle in color. thanks
to her powerful if suppressed emotions,
Fanny Barbour looked actually lovely as she
came into that dimly-lighted parlor, and
hastily rising from the seat he had taken,
Wallace greeted her with a low bow and
poorly~hidden admiration.

Fanny accepted the seat he profl’ered her,
and at a sign from the young lady he like-
wise seated himself, then spoke quickly, as
though wishing to forestall her questions:

“ Will you kindly tell me something about
your father, Miss Barbour? How did you
lose him? How long since, and after what
fashion?”

“ I thought you might tell me—”

“Everything that lies in my power, you
can depend upon that, Miss Barbour,” came
his interposition. “ Only—I might make

my story clearer, if I might first hear.

yours.”

“lie is not—he is alive, this one whose
face reminded you of mine?” falteringly ask-
ed the maiden, eager to learn, yet instinctive-
ly shrinking from the possible truth.

” When I saw him last—most surely alive!"
was the rather evasive reply; but Fanny took
it as it seemed on the surface, and aftera
slight pause, like one striving to collect. and
arrange, her thoughts, she began her nar-
rative.

In spite of her utmost efiorts to hold her
emotions under control, the poor child falter-
ed often, and more tlzan once fairly broke
down, holding her tear-wet face in hands that
trembled visibly;

Through all allace Gilmore listened with
strong interest, now and then slipping in a
pertinent question, or giving a hint which led
to still clearer description. 7

All this consumed no little time, and a
literal record would occupy far more space
than lies at my disposal just here; still, there
came no outside interruption, and through it
a]; the couple had the back parlor to them-
se ves.

Going back to her early girlhood, the bet-
ter to make her story comprehended by this
sympathetic listener, Fanny Barbour spoke
of her fair mother's death, all too early for
the good of eitt.er child or husband.

She told how, terribly shocked by that
death, and sorely unsettled in habits by the
loss of his wife, Anson Barbour began to lose
ground, financially, and how he at length
placed his daughter in a private school
where she would receive something of home-
training as well, paying for her tuition and
living expenses far in advance, then turning
his face toward the setting sun, vowing to
gather another fortune to take the place of
the one he had lost.

Word came back from him after along si-
lence, stating that he was on the point of
“striking it rich” in the silver-fields of 0010-

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rado, and promising to return to his child as
soon as that fortune was won.

Fanny passed on from school to college,
forwhich added expense the absent father
sent a draft on an Eastern bank; and with it
came the old story: he was surely about to
gain that fortune at last!

Finally, new a mon'h or two more than a
year before this present day, a soiled and
creased letter came to the anxious daughter,
and opening it, she found a few hastily-writ-
ten lines from the hand of her father, stating
that fortune had at length met his most ex-
travagant wishes, and that his long-sought
fortune had been found at last!

“ He had struck it rich, then?" asked Wal-
lace Gilmore, curiously.

“So he declared, and—he added that he
Was on the point of coming home to his dar-
ling—meaning me, sir! 110 said that I might
expect him almost as soon as I received his
letter, for— Oh, father! father!"

Her voice broke, and her head bowed to
meet her rising hands, sobs making them—
selves heard, and tears dropping like dia-
monds to her lap.

Wallace Gillmore half-rose from his seat,
but settled back, fr0wning darkly, his hands
clinching tightly, like one who is fighting
against inclination or temptation.

Perhaps it was just as well he did not
yield, for Fanny rallied as abruptly as she
had broken down, and brushing the nut
from her eyes With one hand, with the other
she produced afolded paper from her poeket,
speaking hurriedly as though eager to finish
her narrative:

“On the last page of that letter, sir, were
a few lines of rude writing which I at first
overlooked, stating that the vrriter of the
main letter had been thrown from a bucking
broncho on the rough trail. and his right
hand and arm so badly sprained that he was
unable to write, himself; that he who added
these words had found and given Mr. Bar-
bour shelter for the night, and would post
the letter as quickly as possible.

“ He declared that father was not serious-
ly hurt, but would be able to resume his
journey in a day or two at the outside; and
then he signed his name—H. K. JONES!”

Fanny Barbour held forth that soiled docu-
ment, and taking it, Wallace Gilmore pored
long and intently over both letter and post-
80npt.

gsdhe looked up, finally, Fanny hurriedly

e. :

“Father never came home, nor have I
heard anything from him, directly or indi-
rectly, since that day! And after vainly
strivrn to gain some positive information
throug use of the mails and through adver-
tising in the Western papers, I have come
out here to Denver, hoping against hope that
I may be more successful in a personal
quest!"

A pause, a wistful gaze, then the daughter
spoke again:

“Even when I was a little child, people
used to remark upon my wonderful resenr
blance in face to my poor father. And when
you said— Oh, sir! If you can give me any
tidings of my lost parent, pray do not keep
me in this horrible suspense any longer!”

Wallace Gilmore drew back in his seat just
a trifle as the agitated maiden reached forth
her hands in trembling appeal; but he had in
a measure invited this ordeal, and now saw
no way of ending it, save by actual flight.

“ You say your father's name was Anson
Barbour, Miss Fanny?"

‘1‘ Anson Barbour—yes! .You surely can
tel —’

" Something, yes, but far less than I wish
I might be able, for your sake, my poor girl,”
huskily interposed the man, rising to his feet
and holding forth both hands as though for
her support.

The maiden turned paler than ever, and
her head drooped as her lids closed for the
instant. She felt that in these grave and
troubled words lay the death-warrant of the
parent she had mourned so long and so

itterly.

Wallace Gilmore hardly wished to convey
grach a conviction, however, and quickly

“ Don’t despair, my dear—Miss Barbour!
It may all come-right in the end, and your
father ma be alive and well as ever!"

Fanny ooked up, trying pityfully to form

 

a smile, but making poor work of it. She I “Putt up nothin’, ontel— You cain’t

falteringly uttered, ; play no roots onto the like 0’ us, 'l‘om GAy-
“You mean it, sir? You are not—oh, sir! i worthy, an’ ye’ll only lose yer ruff by tryin'

Tell me all! Tell me why you said—why of it on!”

you seemed so struck ‘by-surely you have .“I never did take you for a Solomon, Pur-

met my poor, lost father, sir?” 3 kiss, but now I know you for Jack Donkey’s

“ I believe I have met him, yes,” gravely own son! What are you trying to get through
answered the young man, taking both of her 3 you, anyway ‘2” ~
hands in his, drawing them almost against ; “It's achunk 0’ lead you’ll git through ye,
his breast in his sudden ardor. “And' now , Ten-Strike, ef ye don’t take the hint an' open
—can you hear what I have to say, Miss the road fer them as hain’t tryin’ to hide the
Fanny?" dirty dog as bloodyanurdered yen’ cove

“Yes—anything is better than this killing who—”
suspense! You say—pray tell meall—every- “Av it’s maanin’me Patsy. mahn. divil
thing, sir!" roide me bareback up hill an’ down betwuxt

A brief pause, then Wallace Gilmore spoke =’ day ankday av Oi don’t—— L’avc me at him,
again- sorl Jist wance will ye l‘ave me at him, be.

“I was in Leadville, little more than one gorra!” _
year ago, when I saw the man whose face so ' “ Peace, Biddy, my darlint!” soothed the
strangely resembles yours: so like, yet with king-Pin Sport, turning head for a brief
such a peculiar difference that—~” glance hack at the angry amazon, looking as

“My father! And he was—oh, sir, have , cool himself as though that ugly muzzle was
pity! Go on—go on!" not nearly brushing his face. “I’ll turn him

“ He had his right, hand bandaged, and his over to you to use as fry, hOil. Toast 01‘ fricaS-
right arm supported by a sling, as though see, just as soon as I’ve made out whether
both had been injured. That was just after ,' he’s turned crazy, or was merely born that
a hard fight between road-agents and a : Wily.”
stage load of miners, so I asked the name of 1 Eyes coming back to that sullen, bruised
the stranger, who was just enteringa coach, , countenance, the King-Pin Spott coldly
bound for Denver. I added:

“ Home person mentioned his name—Anson “ If you’re going to shoot, why don't you
Barbour ” he slowly added. i get a hustle on, Purkiss ?"

“My father! And for Denver? 110 was I “That’s all right, Sport, an’ shoot ’1! come
coming here, to this city?" lenty soon cf ye don‘t walk a chalk fur

“ Yes. 110 was getting into the Denver nough to give us all a show at Patsy, yonder
stage, and I know there was no trouble with ——ef it is Patsy, that's sayin’!"
the road~agents that Week, so he surely must i “Faith, thin, an’ it’s Patsy enooghf ye’d
have reached this place in safety.” be t’inkin’ him av me poor mahn had two

“ Then—where is he now?’ Where did he i ligs av his own foor sthandin' ahnto, thini”
go from here? Why did he never write to  “It’s seein’ fer our own selves, Ten-Strike,
me? Why has he not—oh, merciful heavens! an’ that's the full length of our wantin’,” a
My fatller——n!y poor lost father! ’ little more plaeably spoke the tough, yet still

Freeing her h unds, Fanny Stink back into holding the drop.
her chair, covering face with hands and sob- “Shoot me out of your road if it likes ye,
hing as if her heart would surely break. Purkiss, but I'll never give way before bald-

For a few moments Wallace Gilmore stood headed threats,” coldly declared the Sport.
gazing down upon her bowed form, then he “Now, either shoot or put up your gun!
abruptly exclaimed: Quick—or tomebody’ll get hurt!”

“He shall be found, living or dead—I Deacon Ballinger seemed tothink .matters
swear it. Fanny! 1’]! fall to work as I‘ve had gone far enough along that line. for
never toiled in all my life before, and I’ll , he stepped closer to the sullen tough, speak-
never relax my efforts until this mystery is mg gravely: .
solved and your father found!” “Give *1 10911 to Wm 8 couple. m son!

As though he feared to let his feelings The. gent isnt really bent on shie din’ a
carry him too on just then, Gilmore snatch- pOSSlblC criminal, only you roughed him
ed up his hat and beat a hasty retreat, leav- too mighty harsh!”
ing the house without heeding the maiden’s “Ef he hain't tryin' to holp Patsy trick
agitated call after him! as all, why don’t he step outside an’ let us

__ hev a fa’r squint at the dog-gun critter,

then?”
CHAPTER IX- “I told you McCarth was lying in a
- IIOW nrnnr MCCARTHY HELD THE FORT. stupor, after having bro en his leg. You
THAT pair of eves belonged to Vincent can see for yourself, Purkiss," with a slight
Purkiss, and his Nils the hand which gripped nod toward the cot-bed and its motionless oc-
revolver-butt, and his the un which was cupant. . .
thrust into the very face of en-Strike Tom “ That‘s jest what we want: seem’ for our
after suchabusiness-like fashion. own selves! Make room, Ten-Strike, 01‘—
"Hold yer level, pardner, or I'll jolt ye

shell I make it, with this?"
clean over the Great Divide!” came in a That ugly muzzle actually touched the
menacing growl from his parting lips as eyes face of the King-Pin Sport, but Gayworthy
met eyes.

never showed sign of flinching, his voice
Not often was the KingPin Sport caught

coldly even as he once more repeated:
wholly off his guard, but this was one of " Put up that gun, Vincent Purkiss, or I’ll
those mm exceptions. make ynur heels break your fool’ neck!”
His own hands swung free of his tools, For the space M a “Mile lll'f’mh his life
while the burly tough had only to contract wavered "1 the 805110. but then hIS own nerve
his forefinger the fraction of an inch for that

won stepping back a pace, the tough growl-
pointed hammer to fall, and then—death!

ingly spoke:

No man living could more thoroughly un- “ All’rlght, Sport!
derstand all this than Ten-Strike 'l‘om, but now— ' . . D
he never flinched an atom. ducked nor “And now you re acting something like
dodged, made no effort to ward or to strike, a white man, I’ll meet you on the same leVel,
gazing squarely into those bloodshot optics,

Purkiss,” declared Gaywm-thy‘ wim ,tn entire
with a coldly contemptuous Smile dawning change of tone and demeanor. "Behave
in his handsome face.

yourseth-s decently, and I reckon there’s no
“ What’s the matter with you, Purkiss?" Serious objection to your viewing our mutual
he asked, evenly, tones as clear and steady

friend, Patsy. Is there, though, Mrs. Me.
as though mere! passing the time of day Carthy?"
with the best of riends. But Vincent Purkiss was far too eager to

"It‘s what" he the matter with yon, cf satisfy his savage doubts for waiting longer
you bet-Kin?!" to “(3k “Mn—n now that main obstacle was removed from

“ Your’re theburro‘sbiggerbrother,Vinee, his path, and brushing past the. King-Pm
not I‘. Why should I kick, unless at catch- Sport, he gained the_ side Iof the bed, stoop-
ing myself in such low-down company? Put in so as to Win a fairer V10W of that partly-
up that gun, you crazy idiot!” hi den face. . .

“ Don't curry him too mighty brash, bro- So far there was no deception: this was
ther!" croaked the deacon from his position Patsy Mcca'thyv safe enough. lhmlgh his
of safety back of that burly ii are. “ An’ face ooked P8161: than usual, and as thopgh
you, gentle son. tetch lightly w en ye rake h? fimgflwd t rough a severe if brief siege
0 .

 

Up the gun goes! An”

over the sore laces!” .
u - __ m t , u , Vince Pur- “Look up. dug-gun ye!" vicious! cried
“asylum” m up a g n thetough. One hand dropping heavilyyon that

“.5

 

ms- 4-

~ 

The King-Fin: Sport. »

 

broad shoulder and giving the injured man
a rude shake. “ Ef you're playin’ roots on—

Iknowed it!"

Either that much handling, or else the
sounds of his enemy's hated voice, one or
both together, broke the spell of that opiate,
for Patsy McCarthy opened his heavy lids,
anti after a dazed stare of a Second or two,
recognized the tough with a hoarse cry of
angry rancor.

Vince Purkiss started back a bit, even as
the (-rippled lriShmau began to lift himself
und< r the light cover, shaping the words:

“ Ali-ha! ye nahsty schum av the woorrld,
ye! Biddy—Biddy! ’

“Patsy, me good mahn l"

“ T‘row ’im oot o’ thot, will ye? Give me
me sthick, thin, an’ Oi'll be afther— Ah-
ha! T‘row the dirt oot o’ thot, Biddy l"

The cripple found it impossible to rise fur-
ther, but Biddy was cornith to the front with
a whoop and a yell, looking big as a moun-
tain, and fierce enough for two.

“ Insoolt me hilpliss mahn, will ye?
T'row dirt ahl over the gintlemahn that does
ye proud be hatin’ av yeez, hey? \Vait
ahntil Oi b’ate the hollow hid av ye loike
a drum that’s— Ow-wowl”

Vince Purkiss recoiled before that furious
onset, ducking and dodging from that flour-
ishing poker, right arm going up to save his
threatened skull, too busily occupied tints to
take note of whither he was hacking, until
he came against the low sill of the dortner
window.

Then, with a wild bowl of vindictive joy,
Biddy McCarthy flung lter huge bttlk for-
ward, dropping pokt r to the more effectively
use her hands, striking against the tough
with such force as to fairly drive him back-
ward through the window, splintcring the
glass and bursting the rickety sash from its
frail fastenings.

Vince Purkiss gave a sharp yell of blend-
ed rage and fear, then vanished from View of
his startled friends, who had been taken so
completely by surprise that neither one had
lifted hand or foot to join in.

_ “ Steady, both!” sternly commanded Ten-
Strike Tom as his guns came forth from their
customary hiding-places, tnuzzles turned up-
on the deacon and Dan Mixon.

“ Pard—cf Vince ’s ketched his death—”

“If he has, ’twas by his own invitation.”
sternly cut in the Sport with the drop. “ Go
look to him, if you like, but not through this
channel, if you please, gents!”

Thinking solely of his friend, Mixon
wheeled and rushed toward the outside flight
of stairs, while Deacon Ballinger recoiled
from those menacing muzzlcs, an open hand
lifting with palm to the front as a token of
peace.

“ Don’t shoot—~” he began, but before he
could proceed further, a wild “ hurroo”
burst from the crippled Irishman over the
utter downfall of his hated enemy and rival
among toughs of Denver.

Lifting himself to a sitting posture, heed-
less of pain or of the injury he might be
doing to his broken leg, he cried in fierce

o :

'Y‘ More power to yer illbow, Biddy, me
darlintl Give me the geonl The shoot-
goon, Biddyl Quick, ye divil, ye! The
goon, so Oi kin blow ahl yan’ dirthy dirt oot
av the dure loike—wait, ye divils—wait l"

But his fierce invitation was unheeded,
unless by quiekening the steps of those now
retreating men, one growling, the other
laughing as though he found it all the best
of sport.

For obedient Biddy was reaching up for
the dusty and rusty musket which bun
from twin hooks against the chamber waif
and Patsy was not too badly crippled for
pulling trigger when .he had pornted the
muzzle in the correct direction.

As the deacon had won the start, so- he,

gained term firm/t first. but Ten-Strike Tom
was close upon his heels, and they were Side
by side as they ran around the budding to
see what fate had befallen VinCe Purktss.

They found Dan Mixon with his worsted
pard, who was beginning to rally the senses
which had been pretty well knocked out of
him by that awkward fall.

Though he still lay in a heap, pretty much
as he had fallen, even so soon it was fairl
certain no bones had been broken, and his
fears on that score being dissipated, Ten-

 

Strike Tom made no pretense at sympathy
which he did not feel for the fellow.

Gayworthy hear so -nut-h :H v orrl or excla-

; mation from either of his assailants.

“ lle brought it all on himself, and really i

got off cheaper than he deserved. If he tries
the same thing over, the hangman‘ll never
earn wages on his account!"

“ Vince’ll play even if it takes a leg off!”

“It’ll take his roof off, more likely," blunt-
ly asserted the Sport. “If he's all fool toe
night, that‘s no sign the rest of you need join
in to make triplets of it, is there?"

“ We cain’t jump the game an’ give pard
the dirty shake, kin we?”

“ I‘m not advising you to shake him. Just
the contrary: stick to Vince, and take him
home before he can fairly realize what’s hap-
pened. Fill him up with whisky, if you
can’t find a cheaper substitute, but don‘t let
him out on the loose again until his head‘s
cleared up a good bit better than it is right
now. 3111’?”

Ten-Strike Tom spoke bluntly enough,
and hardly in his wonted suave forms, but he
made his meaning sufficiently clear for their
comprehension, and that covered the main
pornt.

Without waiting to see how or whether his
adviee was acted upon, (laywmthy turned

aWay, giving but a passing glance at the'

shattered dortuer window up yonder.

“ lliddy can hold the fort, safely enough,
even a Mind the aid of her good man, Pat-
sy!" was his grim reflection as he quickened
his steps, turning the first corner that would
enable ltitn to It lad tnorc directly for the Good
Luck Saloon.

His brain was busy with more important
thoughts now, and instinct alone kept him
headed by the most direct route for that des-
tination. He was pondering over that tragic
death, that m sterious slayer, that blood-
stained scrap of, paper on which were certain
broken words that—

Then dark shapes leaped from ambush and
closed with the Sportl

CHAPTER X.

TEN-STRIKE TOM FALLS AMONG THIEVEB.

Nor the faintest sound betrayed that am-
bnscade until it was ready for springing,
and even then the King-Pin Sport knew
naught of the impending peril until he actu-
ally felt it.

Something caught both of his legs just be-
low the knees. giving a sharp jerk backWard,
just as some other thing struck him squarely
between the shoulders, driving his trunk for-
ward.

There could be but one result; Ten-Strike
Tom pitched forward on his face, with barely
time enough to protect that important portion
of his anatomy by jerking his head back
sharply; for his arms were pinned to his side
by a stout rope which likewise encircled his
body.

.A heavy weight dropped Upon the small of
his back—that rope was drawn still more
tightly—a pair of hot hands closed upon his
throat, checking the shout-that involuntarily
rose therein.

WOrkin g in perfect concert, just as though
they had often practicad together after this
very fashion, those two silent schemers con-
sumed hardly more than asingle minute in
completing their capture, and that without
granting the victim even the ghost of a chance
to st rtlggit: or to use a weapon.

'l‘en-Strike Tom would never have believed
such a feat possible with any less conclusive
evidence; and yet, he was not so greatly in
fault.

There was nothing whatever to make him
suspect danger of this description before it
burst upon him: and then the best man living
could have done no more than he did: yield
to the inevitable.

That awkward fall had driven the breath
out of his lungs, partly stunning him, while
those sharp knees boring into his back nearly
pairalyzed his limbs through affecting the
sp ne. '

A heavy muffler was wrapped about his
face and head, the Sweaty odor of which
added no little to that sense of suffocation,
and a stout thong drew it closely around his
neck, thus guardin against its dropping off,
and rendering use ess an efforts he might
make to loosen the nauseating folds.

Not until then, when his head was hooded,
his arms securely bound behind his back, his
person so utterly hampered that fight or flight
was equally out of the question, id Thomas

 

I .s a .. -.

 

 

“Fetch the donk', pardner!" uttered a
husky voice which the Sport failed to recog-
nize through that mufiler. “ “'e want to
hike out 0’ this in a holy hurry, or some o’
them cussed— Fetch up the donk’, will

e!"
y Ten-Strike heard another sound which
might have been an answer, although he
could not distinguish a Word; and then came
a brief bray, cut short as by human hands
deftly grasping the muzzle.

“ Cram yer louse-cage in his trap ef he
tries ary other chune, pardner!" came that
initial voice as the sound of shuttling boots
were distinguished by the captured Sport.
“ Now—hyste ’im up—so fashion!”

Strong hands closed upon the prisoner.
bodyand legs, lifting hint clear of the ground
and placing him astride a far from comfort—
able saddle borne by a burro.

‘Stiddy, now, critter! Play ye was a
stick-light or a devil's pitchfork fer a brace
o’ shakes. Ef ye take a tum’le—waal, the
ground’ll ketch ye, but id t'tztltcr’twas you
then me gittin’ the rocky bumps!"

At this the burro was Set in motion, and
taking advantage of that fact, which might
Conceal his efforts from the eyt s of his cap-
tors, 'l‘en-Strike’l‘om tested his bonds sev<re-
1y if swiftly.

They did not yield even the frartion of an
inch, and while there was no hindering
clutch fastened upon his person, Gayworthy
knew hi-i attempt to break away had not
passed unnoticed.

A coarse chuckle greeted his ears, and that
husky voice made itself heard once more:

“ Whar's the use, critter? Reckon gents
0’ our caliber'd go fer to make sceh a pesky
bungle of a ’portant job like this yer”? An’
cf you‘re wise es ye be good-lookin'. Tommy,
you’ll 'est take ’er easy ontel we gits a good
ready or to— What’s up, pardner?”

“Cork ’cr hup, blawst ye, mate! W'y
will ye keep hon talkin’ w’ile talkin‘s no
good? Cork ’er hup, then!"

Ten-Strike Tom gave an involuntary start
as he caught this reproof, given by one who
could hardly be mistaken for another, so long
as his accent vt as so marked.

“That’s all right, pardner, and it’s all
right—er, Tommy l” a hand gripping an arm
by way of lending additional emphasis :0 his
speech. “ You’ve done ketched on, ’count of
pardner, hyar, never l’arnin' to talk like a
white gent. But what’s the hodds? We’re
gwine fer to do a heap-sight o’ chin chin
afore we take ye in out o‘ the wet fer good !"

Still, the reproof had some effect, since the
pace of the burro was hastened, and‘ nearly
half an hour passed by without another word
being spoken by either of the two kidnap-
pet's.

At the end of this period, when Ten-Strike
Tom knew from the movements of his charger
that they had entered the hills out of Lead-
ville, although he could only dimly guess at
the direction they had taken on leaving town,
a halt was called.

Leaving their captive seated on the patient
burro, the two knaves drew apart far enough
to prevent Ten-Strike Tom from catching
any of their words.

The Sport, half-suspecting that this was
but a ruse to give him another temptation to
break away, sat motionless in his saddle.

That first effort had convinced him any
escape without help from other bands was
an impossibility while matters remained as
they now were, and he was ceol enough to
hide his time.

Five mintttes later, their private talk end-
ed, his captors came back to lift him out of
the saddle, dumping him unceremoniously
on the ground where his back touched a
rough-barked tree.

“ Ef ye cain’t take it easy, .take it ez easy
ez ye kin, critter!” one of his abductors
spoke, huskily. “We hain't gwine tobutcher
ye—not fu‘stoff, anyway! Mebbe not at all,
ef you kin listen to reason, like— ’

“ Come hoff, you bag hof windy gas!"
harshly cut in he of the second voice.
“ I-laren't ye got hany better work hon 'and,
then? Ham hI to do hit hall, hand you
nothink, hat hall?" .

“ Oh, keep yer clo’es on, Insh, or—”

"’00's Hirish? Call me hout hof me right
$336 ’hag’in, ye bloomink Yankee, hand

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“The King-Pin Sport.

 

“ VVho’s a Yankee, you blame’ fool? \Vho’s
a——augh! quit yer nonsense, now, an’ grab
bresh fer a glimmer, British!”

If Ten-Strike Tom had held any doubts as
to just whose hands he had fallen into, those
doubts vanished now as he caught these
hot .and spicy sentences passed by those
twain.

Still, it could hardly be said that he was
set more at ease in mind by that discovery.
He was pretty well assured that, both fat and
lean claimant of the name in which he felt
such a strong interest, were rank cowards,
but did that make them any the less danger-
ous to an enemy when they had him foul?

Leaning back against the tree, he moved
his pinioncd arms up and down, striving to
loosen those thongs, and a little thrill of
fierce delight ran through him as he succeed-
ed far beyond his most sanguine expecta-
tions.

But before he could entirely succeed,
sounds came through that disgusting mutiler
which warned him to cease his efforts for the
time being, and not long after the dim glow
of a growing fire made its way through to
his eyes.

“That’s all right, pardner, an’ now I’ll
take— Stiddy by jerks, Tommy, boy!”

Hands fumbled at that muffler, then drew
it away, leavmg Ten-Strike Tom to draw in
a long and (grateful breath of pure air as his
eyes winke and blinked at the ruddy glow
of the fire directly in front of his present
station.

Half-blinded though he was by this abrupt
transition from darkness to light, Ga worthy
at once recognized the gangling gure of
Hamilton King Jones in the fellow feeding
the fire, then turned eyes toward the person
who had just removed his hood-wink.

That was Henry Kane Jones, as a matter
of course, but the King-Pin Sport fairly
gagged as he saw those thick, stump arms
extended, holding up for its owner’s inspec-
tion that same mufiler; nothing else than the
flannel shirt “Harrycane” Jones had worn
when he made his first appearance on the
Good Luck stage!

Having viewed that useful if not orna-
mental articlc of apparel, the corpulent
claimant put it on, and then made a sharp
gesture toward the other knave, both men

rawing in front of the prisoner as though on
inspection. . ‘

“ Well, what next, you Siamese Twins?"
coolly asked Gayworthy, after glancing up
and down their ludicrously contrasting
shapes.

“ What next?” exploded the fat man, his
face flushing redder than ever. “Business
—an’ business kivered over with red pepper,
tool Who be I, anywa ?”

“ A sad relic of the ilkenny cat war. I’d
ut it at a rough guess. You’re too awfully
at to be drawn through a knot-hole, but on

<in look something like that, for a scanda one
act!”

The fat claimant pulled forth one of the
posters with which Leadville was liberally
dotted over, pointin to the heading, then
to the name in bol -face type, afterward
smiting his swelling bosom in fierce excite-
ment. '

“ What is that? Which is them? What
be I at, then? Skin yer pcepers, dug-gun ye
fer a howlin‘ fraud out o’ jail! Squint ’em
keen right at the bunch 0’ all this yer’!
What does she say?”

A ain pointing his sentences with stumpy
fore nger, he added:

“ Reward! H. K. Jones! Which ef he
does, ’11 hear somethin' to his ’vantage!
Don’t she run that-a-way, dug-gun ye,
critter?”

“ Well, what of it, Skinny-lean ?”

“ Oh, will ye lis’en to him, once! What of
it? This is what of it, billy-be-dug-gun to ye,
critter!

“Look at me monsetacklet” with fin ers
touching his ragged and curtailed mustac es,
which had fare but poorly during that hot
if brief scramble with the tall claimant.
“View me nose—red-hot an’ tenderer to
tetch then an old maid’s funny bone! Gaze
upon me face: painted all over in spots, an’
lines, an’ dashes, an‘ ‘daubsi”

Flin ing'out his arms, Henry Kane dra-
matica ly cried anew:

“Be this that sort 0’ reward? Does all
them show so dug- un much to my 'vantage?

- I’m that same H.” I . Jones, an' ye jest knows

 

it, too, but—liev I got my pay fer bein’ that
same, I’m axin’ ye, critter?”

“Me, too!” shrilly cut in Hamilton King,
slowly turning himself on his heels as on a
double pivot. ' “ Shirt tore! Gallus bu’sted!
Nose knocked hall crooked! Money hout
hof pocket, hand not ha bloomink shiner to
show hon t’other side hof the ledger!"

“Is all them—not fergittin' three black
eyes atwixt the air of us—is all them pay?
Is all them big reward? Hey? Sa-ay,
you ?"

’I‘en~Strike Tom glanced coolly from face
to face, then spoke:

“If it's pay you’re howling about, my bul~
lies, just cast off these bonds, and I‘ll agree
to pay you off, both at the same time!"

Bold enough, and possibly bolder than
wise, under the circumstances, for the ruf-
fians thus insolently defied glanced at each
other, then with still grimmer looks his way,
each jerked forth a revolver and thrust muz-
zle forward to nearly touch his face, the fat
knave crying liarshly'

“ Why not lift yer ruil’, cully, an’ pay our
own selves?”

CHAPTER XI.
TEN-STRIKE TOM TURNS THE TRICK.

THAT began to look very much like sober
business, but even now the wonderful nerve
of the King-Pin Sport did not desert him, and
though his head was free to move, he made
no attempt to put his brain out of range, un.
flinchingly meeting those savage looks while
retorting:

“Because I’m a man, and you both are
low-down curs!”

“ Stiddy, ye lippy critterl”

“hl’ll make ye heat them words hif hit
’angs me!”

“ And hang you it will, as any one less
than a natural born idiot would know with-
out telling,” coolly retorted the prisoner, his
black eyes gaining a reddish luster as they
fixed more particularl . upon that face.
“ Bah!” as Hamilton hing shrunk back a
pace, as though intimidated b the look. “I
said cur, but-l now stand re y to apologize
to the dog t”

The revolver gripped by the corpulent
claimant grew unsteady at that, and a half-
smothered snort told how ready Henry Kane
was to appreciate a cut at his whilom rival.

Ten-Strike Tom turned eyes and tongue
that way, both keen as briers and each seem»
ingly tipped with venom.

“Surely you’re not im udent enough to
take the title of either 0g or cur to your-
self? There'd be a shade more reason in it
if I had said skunk, but even then— Well,
a skunk does take a bath, occasionally!”

Henry Kane gave another _snort, . ut one
of very different nature at this base insmua-
tion.

His gun came back until the cold metal
fairly rubbed a ainst the nose of the ham-
pered Sport, an he cast a glance toward the
taller knave as his deep tones came rum-
blin 1y forth:

“ hell I, pardner? Shell I let blizzer an'
hyste the ruff 0’ his cabeza, Hupper Krust?”

A brief ause, durimr which the tall claim-
ant seemei inwardly debating the advisabil-
ity of ending the question then and there;
but his response leaned to the other side when
it did come. .

“ hI don't think hI would, ’Arrycane, just
now," slowly. “Pay first, glory afterward
--he ?” '

“ e kin go through his wardrobe an’——”

“W’ich hit cawn’t git haway w’ile ’ee stays
’ere, cawn hit, though i” shrewdly argued t e
cockney. “Time henough to save the tallow
hafter we’ve taken ’is ’ide, don’t ye knaw ‘1”

Henry Kane drew a tremendous breath at
this, shakin his head slowly like one reluc-
tantly conv need by shrewder arguments
against his inclinations.

“Good Lawd! Ef a critter could only eat
an’ hev it both! Ef I was only jest— All
right, pardner!”

He drew back his revolver, thrusting it
through his wide belt, then moving slowly
aside with the tall claimant.

Gayworthy watched them with slightly
curlin lip, for, more than ever was be con-
vince that all this was but part of a pre-
arranged farce which yonder knaves cal-
culated he would mistake for a genuine tra-
gedy, and so pay a heavier price for his life
and liberty.

 

“I’d drive ’em both with a liinbertwig, if
my hands were free!” lie muttered, below his
breath, keeping close watch upon their move—
ments while once more striving to slip his
hands up throu h that loosened cord. “If
they only knew t, I'm— Steady, boy!"

If the brace of knaves had drawn aside for
the purpose of consultation, orof fully de-
ciding on the proper line to follow, their
views were made to match with remarkable
casiness, for they turned back once more,
each bruised face wearing a stern scowl as
their darkened eyes came into line with that
cold, composed countenance.

Henry Kane waddled a bit to the fore, and
pausing in fiontof the hampered Sport, clap-
ped hands on hips after his favorite fashion,
swelling his chest, pouting his fat cheeks un—
til his blackened eyes were but little more
than a memory, then finally let out breath
and words at the same time.

“This means clean business, critter, an’ ye
want to know jest that afore we git ’long ary
furder; clean business, with a humbly-bee
in the red-hot tail of it, too!” 1

“Get down to business, then, Skinny-lean,
but don’t talk of anything clean in connec-
tion with yourself, for consisteney‘s sake!“

“Which adds ’nother case to the sum-
total! Which hain’t gwine fer to make our
jedgment none the easier onto ye, critter!
Jokin’s good, when it is good, but when
ye’ve got to pay fer it—but never mind
that!” -

“ Chalk line, ’Arrycanei” shrilly warned
his fellow-sinner.

“Hemp-line, rather!" amended the irre-
pressible Sport, turning his head against his
right shou der, then iving a peculiar clnck
With tongue in chee , the more keenlyto
point his meaning. .

But now the corpulent claimant seemed
armed against his hints and insinuations,
merely nodding his head in grim warning as
he spoke: I

“’Nough’s bin said fer to show ye how
sech things cost, critter, an’ now ye’re keep-
in’ case fer yer own game. Ez furwe-’uns—-
lis'en:

“ We’ve done bed a power 0’ trouble over ,
this yer’ monkey business, an’ now we’re
wantin’ of a heap 0’ pay, to match a‘cordin’;
see?"

“If seeing was all, I’d be comparatively
happy; but when it comes to smelling—
can’t you shift to leeward a bit, Sweet
Violets?"

“Hupper Krust” Jones broke forth in a
squealing laugh at this hint, and .“H'arr -
cane ” Jones turned an angry glare in his i-
rection, rumbling forth the warning:

"Cork ’er hup, you! ,Cork ’er hup, hor
hI’ll jump down that red lane 0‘ yours an’
turn ye wrong side out’ards! Who’s runnin’
this job, aryway, I’d like fer to ask'ye, crit-
ter?”

“ hAll right, me covey!” shrilled his rival,
with a yielding wave of a dirty paw. “ hl’m
squelshed! hl‘m sayin’ nothink hat hall, ye
knaw!”

“Then don’t try to. An’ you. dug-gun

e fer aclickety-clack ole maid! I’in mark-
in' it all down fer futur’ settlement, an’
when you it done payin’ all bills I reckon
you’ll sort 0 wish ye hedn’t bin so ee-tarnally
smart; ye bet I jest do, now!”

“Wh , Skinny-lean, you talk as though
you rea ly meant it all!”

“Mebbe ye think I don’t mean it all?
Mebbe you don’t reckon— Ef thar was
more time fer wastin’, I’d ax no better fun
then to break the turrible shock unto ye lit-
tle be jerks, an’ a chunk at a time! But 92
she stan’s—open them two years of ye, crit-
ter!

“You advertised fer H. K. Jones. You
putt it down in prent plenty big nough fer
arybody with eyes to see, that 5’00 d pay blg‘
money fer news 0’ that same H. K. Jones,
an“ more a’cordin’ ef H. K. Jones was to
shove him own self to the front, ’live an’
read fer kickin’.

“ ow, didn’t ye do jest them, critter?"

“ What’s that to you, you traveling
fraud?”

H A heap to me, an’ 'nother heap o’ pritty
much the same Size to him, ez ye kin see
right yender-waygt” With a curt nod of his
head toward Hamilton Kin . “We’re both
H. K. Jones. We both pic ed up our hoofs

 

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with the p’izen critter as struck off them
posters.

“We got tharu We axed our right way
ontel we found the Good Luck Siloon, whar
all sech infermation was to drap in. We
see a cuss who owned up he made them
offers, an’—what did we git back ?”

Stumpy hands flew up to point out his in-
juries, just as they had done before, and at
the same time “ Hupper Krust ” Jones began
his slow pivot-act to complete that inventory
of damages.

“All these! An’ when we ax for pay—”

“ You shall have full payment!"

So cried Ten-Strike Tom, and in the same
breath he began to measure out .hat reward
to Suit—himself, if not the knavish claim-
ants!

As though hurled bodily out of a power-
ful catapult, the King-Pin Sport shot for-
ward, his bending head striking Ilarrycane
Jones full in his fat paunch, doubling him
up with an explosive grunt and knocking
him back aga’nst the tall rascal, whose legs
gave way and let them both down in a
tangled, s uirming, heaving heap!

Ten-Strike Tom sprung to his feet, east-
ing aside the rope which he had worked
loose from his arms by aid of the tree-
trunk against which his back had been
braced.

Hamilton King was scrambling to his feet
when a fist caught him under the chin,
making his jaws clash together like a pair of
dry bones, head flying back and body fol-
lowing, with long limbs wildly flourishing
the while.

Just in time, Ten-Strike Tom flung forth
a sure foot to kick the revolver out of the
fat man‘s grip, then closed in with fists play-
ing a vicious tune u on that puffy visage,
each stroke making ts mark plain enough
for all men to read that looked.

It was a right merry circus while it lasted,
but .‘the trick was so easy turned that the
King-Pin Sport grew disgusted ere long,
and, taking possession of the pistols with

‘which the unsavory pair had menaced his

brains not so very long before, he held them

I both level while saying:

Apologize for

“Deg, you arrant cursl
Beg,

daring to ay paws upon a gentleman!
or croak!”

“ Don’t shoot, for—"

“ Down on your knees and chew dirt, both
of ye!" sternly commanded their master for
the time being. “Down, I say! Lick dust,
or I’ll disgrace my record by blowing you
both over the range!”

Whether he meant all he said is not so
certain, but Ten-Strike Tom spoke as though
he was in deadly earnest, and, fearing the
very worst, the two rascals obeyed: literally,
too!

Down on their knees, lowering heads until
their faces touched the ground, lapping
dirt while those menacing muzzles kept them
covered!

“Good enough, so far, and now—flatten
out, dogs!"

No sooner said than done, and discarding
those confiscated weapons for the time being,
Ten-Strike Tom caught up the rope which
had played an important part in his own cap-
ture, cutting it in two, then using the pieces
to Eind their hands securer behind their
bac s.

The burro which had carried the King-Pin
Sport to that secluded spot was patiently
dozing where left by the twin frauds, and,
taking a long lariat, or trail-rope. from where
it hung in a coil at the saddle-bow, Gay-
worthy quickly rove a slip-knot at either end,
and then fitted a noose snugly about the
neck of each prisoner as they lay on the
ground, neither dating to stir until permis-
sion was given them.

“ Get up, you whelps!” their master said,
shaking the doubled rope as I further hint.
“ Up, and—steady l”

He fastened the trail-rope to the pommel,
then easily swung one leg over the back of
the meek-eyed donke , grimly adding:

“Hang back or be down if it suits our
tastes better. whelpsl I'm going bac to
town, and you—get a move on. Neddyl”

A parently paying no further attention to
the uckless speculators who were compelled
to follow nimbly on penalt of strangulation,
Toin Gayworthy headed or lower ground,
knowing that the city must lie in that direc-

 

tion, although, as yet, he had but a vague
notion of his present whereabouts.

The aptness of his reasoning was quickly
made evident, for the odd train had covered
less than quarter of a mile, when those keen
eyes caught a glimpse of so many twinkling
lights ahead that he could no longer doubt
where Leadville lay.

Maliciously urging the burro to his best
paces, Ten-Strike Tom kept on without heed-
ing those groans, puffings, lamentations and
prayers for mercy, until at the edge of town.
Then he alighted, saying:

“ Would yen rather be shot now, or lynch-
ed by the town, whelps?"

 

CHAPTER XII.
TENs'rRrKE TOM nornm' sum'aisan.

THEIR nerve entirely wasted, both knaves
begged for mercy most sincerely, and though
Ten-Strike Tom made no immediate conces-
sion, it need hardly be said that he had no
real intention of punishing the rascals with
such severity.

“Well, [’11 not waste good cartridges on
such worthless game," he said, presently,
pushing the two men closer to the heels of
the burro, then taking up some of the slack
in the trail-rope thus obtained, and with it
forming a double-hitch around the donkey‘s
tail, close up.

“ Keep your ups buttoned, now. my
whelps, unless you want to call out all the
hoodlums of Leadville. If they should see
two necks, with as many nooses ready fitted
—up a tree you’d surely go!”

Leading the burro, Ten-Strike Tom moved
onward once more, avoiding such streets as
were more numerously lighted up, yet strik-
ing for a populous portion of the town when
daylight reigned.

hen satisfied with the position won, he
called a halt, securely hitching the burro to
a post, then passing all over in final inspec-
tion before addressing those crestfallen
knaves:

“You can wait here in silence, whelps,
until something turns up, or, if you reckon
that will bring sweeter good luck, just lift
your voices in a melancholy howl for aid and
comfort in distress!

“Maybe I’ll drop around this way in the
morning, to see how you’ve been enjoying
yourselves, but don’t look for me until you
see me coming. Now—pleasant dreams, my
blessed twins!”

Without further look at or care for the
diseomfited rascals. Ten-Strike Tom turned

away, striding briskly along through the

night, making no halt until he had gained
the hotel where he had engaged a room for
the term of his stay in Leadville.

Passing through the office and up to his
chamber without speaking or being spoken
to, the King-Pin Sport sunk down on the
edge of his narrow bed, hands supporting
chin as he stared with unSeeing eyes at his
dimly burning lamp.

Thus for a cw minutes. then rousing with
a start, giving himself a shake like one striv-
ing to cast off unwelcome thoughts before
Seeking repose under the blankets.

If this was his hope, Thomas Gayworthy
made anything but a success of it, for he lay
for at least an hour there in the dark, run-
ning over in his too busy brain the events of
the night; the coming of those two claim-
ants, each one vowing that he had the sole
right to the name of 11, K. Jones; the squab-
ble which followed, cut' short by the reeling
entrance of the bleeding stranger; his vain
hunt for the slayer, his search of that stiffen
ing corpse, and the finding of that bit of
sored paper, where water and blood com-
bined had obliterated nearly everything.

He saw again these incomplete words:
"—son Bar—," and mentally wondered if
they stood for “ Anson Barbour,” or if those
other two initials had aught to do with the
living (or dead) 11. K. Jones?”

Finally, failing to solve the per lexing

uzzle to anything like his own satis action,

homes Gayworthy resolutel banished all
such annoying thoughts, andV presently fell
into a snund and healthy slumber.

Although be had lost the biggest portion
of the night. so far as sleep was concerned,
TenStrike Tom was afoot bright and early
in the morning, and only pausing in night
attire long enough to give that red-dyed
scrap of paper a searching inspection in

 

faint hopes of making some more complete
discovery by the lightof day, heelothed him-
self and took a precautionary look at his pis-
tols before leaving his chamber.

“ Begins to look as though this search for
a missing man was going to merge into some-
thing hcap more exciting,” he grimly mut-
tered to himself while thus engaged. “Was
that poor fellow H. K. Jones, or was it H. K.
Jones who riddled him with lead ‘2”

That was one of the fresh points which had
sprung up so unexpectedly in the path he had
entered purely for friendship‘s sake. and Ten-
Strike Tom felt that he would be making an
important point in the game he was playing
if he could satisfactorily solve that doubt.

“From the few words he let fall before
crossing the range, either one might be cor-
rect: now—how to find out, for dead sure?”

It was yet too early for regular breakfast
at the hotel, and the King-Pin Sport left that
building, turning down Harrison avenue and
making the best of his way to a small but
fairly neat restaurant, or chop-house, where
he had in times gone by more than once se-
cured a quickly-served broil, such as he now
ordered.

While waiting to be served, as well as serv-
ing his appetite, Gayworthy let his brain
work busily on, and when through with his
steak, he had at least a portion of his pro
gramme marked out for the morning.

Walking at his best pace, it did not take
very long to carry the handsome Sport over
the distance lying between the chop-house
and the establishment run by Pop-eyed
Moses.

There was little stir and no bustle at all
visible about that building when those keen
eyes first caught sight of _the Good Luck
Saloon, but Ten-Strike Tom had discounted
this in advance.

It would take rather more than one “ corpse
for breakfast ” to materially disturb the
mining-camp routine, and, after all, Lead-
ville was but little more than that, though
on so large a scale.

Thomas Gayworthy slackened pace as his
foremost foot struck the Good Luck thresh-
old, for his keen glance told him that no
human body cumbered that lunch-counter.

Pop-eyed Moses was the sole occupant of
his place, locking a trifle more sleepy than
usual as he waited for his day-clerk to come
from breakfast to relieve him on duty back
of the bar.

But the saloon-keeper was wide enough
awake to instantly recognize this visitor, and
a slow grin widened his mouth as he held forth
a huge but cleanly hand to grasp that ex-
tended by the King-Pin Sport.

“ Not any, thanks,” negatived Gaywortby,
as Moses reached toward the decanters. “ I’m
wearing the blue ribbon, now, pardner, until
I’ve cleared up a bit of a job I’ve undertaken
for a particular friend. And—what has be-
come of the corpus, Moses?”

“A friend done come and tuck it fer better
keering, ye see,” slowly explained the saloon-
keeper, one hand rising to rub his chin as
though its owner hardly knew how his in-
formation would be received.

“ What friend ? Do you know him,
Moses?”

Ten-Strike Tom spoke quietly enough, but
there was an unusually brilliant gleam in his
jetty eyes as he put the question, for—surely
one portion of that perplexing puzzle was
about to be solvedl

Unless that friend was also playing a.
part!

There was just time enough for this dis-
agreeable suspicion to find birth before the
slow-speaking Moses made reply, but then
the doubt vanished as quickly.

“Know him like a book, boss! He’s
called Jason Dogood. Sort.o' miner, when
he wants a stake, an’ mostly prospector when
he kin ’ford it.”

“ Straight goods. is he ?”

“Straight as a string with a weight on both
ends—yes! I‘d go my last dollar on Jason
Dogood. fer——”

“Stiddy, tharl Talk of a angel, an’ you’ll
smell sulphire, Moses 0’ the bug-out peepel‘s!”
came a shrill, peculiar voice from the fron
of the Good Luck. and then the broad, burly
figure of a genial-eyed, rough-clad man dark~
cned the entrance.

“ Which right thar he be, new!" ejaculated
Pop-eyed Moscs, with considerably more ani-
mation than he was accustomed to exhibit so

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early in the morning. “ )ome in, Dogood!
I‘Iyar’s a gent what— You say it, boss, fer
myclapper‘s gittin’ too mighty tired!"

As he spoke, Pop-eyed Moses waved his
hands to serve as introduction, but this cere-
mony was hardly necessary.

The new-comer promptly advanced, ex-
tending a hand with a frank smile to back it
up as he spoke:

“I know Ten-Strike Tom, even if he don‘t
know me, so—put it right tlnir, fer ninety
days, sir! I‘m Jase Dogood, an’ I try my
level not to clean disgrace the last name—

'es!"

“ I’m glad to make your acquaintance, Mr.
Dogood, and particularly so just now. For
—Moses tells me you found a friend of yours
here, last night?”

That smile faded away, and a troubled
frown took its place.

“ Not so much a friend, sir, as the son of a
friend,” he made reply, all trace of levity
leaving his tones. “ Mosestold me what you
did, or what you tried to do. ruther, an’ that‘s
one reason why I come back this mornin‘; to
git onto your trail, to thankee fer the lad’s
mother.”

“I need no thanks, sir, but—may I ask
the name otkyour young friend ?” gravely in-
quired the ing-Pin Sport.

“ Why not? I never bed so mighty much
truck with him, butI knowed his folks right
smart, an’ his mother—oh, yes! The lad was
called Corse Payson. an’ his mother—Widdcr
Payson, now—she keeps a reel scrumptious
boardin’-house in Denver, whar I've— Eh ‘2”

For Ten-Strike Tom gave an abrupt start
and a half-smothered exclamation at that last
name, and though he spoke evenly enough,
there was an unusual glow in his dark eyes
as he asked for and received both street and
number of that boarding-house.

How well he remembered it, then! In a
secret pocket right above his heart rested a
neatly folded letter, signed “ Fanny Bar-
bour,” and at its head Was written that very
street, and that identical number!

Driving back the ugly suspicions which
found birth together with that strange coin-
cidence—rendered all the more remarkable
when he took into consideration that blood-
soaked scrap of paper, and the broken names
it contained—Thomas Gayworth y questioned
Jason Dogood closely, for one thing askin
if he knew or had ever heard of the H. 
Jones mentioned in the posters with which
Leadville was liberall supplied.

No; Dogood coul give him no light on
that point; and after bidding the veteran
bury Corse Payson decently, at his expense,
the cost of all to be figured up and passed
over to Pop-e cd Moses, who would promptly
settle the bi! , Ten-Strike Tom took his de-
parture with hast steps.

There was nothin in his calm countenance
to betray the power ul excitement which he
reall felt, but if any one had heedlessly got-
ten in the Sport’s way, just then, he would
have thought a mountain had risen up to fall
upon him!

Since the slain man was not H. K. Jones,
. ‘wasn’t it positive his slayer bore that name?
If not, why had those dying lips pronounced
that name so distinctly?

And if II. K. Jones, was he the same man
who had written Fanny Barbour her last tid-
ings concerning Anson Barbour, her father?
And—what did those incomplete names mean,
in that bloody bit of pa per?

These were only a few of the busy thoughts
which troubled Gaywortliy as he strode swift-
ly on to the livery-stable where his favorite
saddle-horse was put up, and bidding that
animal be prepared for the road with as little
delay as possible, the King-Pin Sport hurried
back to his hotel, With word for the horse to
be sent after him, in haste.

Swiftly changing his garments for others
more suitable for along and rough ride, then
securing a compact package of food which
was hurriedly arranged for him by one of the
servants, Gayworthy gained the street where
his Spirited steed was standing in charge of a
stable-boy.

T03sing the lad a brightdollar, Gayworthy
sprung into the saddle and trotted out of
towu, striking into the regular Denver trail
at a more rapid pace, little suspecting who
was peering from" ambush, muttering:

, “Too late, ye bloodhound! Denver‘s 175
miles away, and if ye had the wings of an
eagle, still you’d be too late to save the girl!”

 

The King-Pin Sport.

CHAPTER XIII.
NEWS on Tim Missmo MINER.

WALLACE Gimionn slackcned his brisk
pace as. he drew near the boarding-house
conducted by Widow Payson, under whose
friendly roof Fanny Barbour had found tem-
porary shelter while cndcavoring to solve the
mystery which cnshroudcd the fate of her
father, Anson Barbour.

Ilc cast quick, searching looks up and
down the Sti'cct before mounting those low,
broad steps leading to the front entrance,
and the glow of gnslight from the ground-
glass globe above that portal reVealcd a face
far more anxious than hopeful.

Mr. Gilmore had lost all traces of hurry,
too, and his feet Seemed to have suddenly
grown wondrously heavy during those last
few seconds; but his gloved hand went forth
to grasp the bell without hesitation, and
speech came promptly enough when that
summons was answered.

“ Miss Barbour is in?"

“ Yes, sir. I just saw her go into the
back parlor, and»—”

“Thanks!” and Gilmore deftly slipped a
solid coin into that b no means unwilling
palm as he added: “ Niver mind; I am on
pected, and will introduce myself, thank
you!”

Without stopping to receive the murmured
gratitude which the comely maid was willing
enough to return for that douceur, Wallace
Gilmore passed along the hall until at the
door through which Fanny Barbour had
shown him once before.

His hand waslifting to rap in token of a
desire to enter, but that proved wholly un
necessary; the door swung open, and the
pale, yet still beautiful countenance of Miss
Barbour met his gaze.

“I heard— Will you step in, sir?” she
spoke, in tones which she tried in vain to
keep steady and even. “I felt that you
were coming, and when I heard your
voice—”

“You really recognized my voice, Miss
Fanny?" asked the young gentleman, flush-
ing a bit as his eyes caught a brighter
glow. “After hearing it only once, and
then—"

“ Oh, sir!" huskin exclaimed Fanny, hand
closing almost convulsively on his arm as
she gazed into his face, paying not the
slightest heed to his words the while.
“ What is it? You surely have heard—you
bring me news of my poor father?”

That anticipatory smile faded out to give
place to a frown, and almost rudely freeing
his arm from that trembling grasp, Wallace
Gilmore turned away to a convenient stand,
on which he dropped his hat, the action
helping to cover his involuntary display of
anger.

ng sole thou ht was of that missing
pare"t, then, and iis coming had naught to
do with that eager welcome?

This unwelcome fact received still further
confirmation when Fanny followed him,
speaking swiftly, and even less clearly than
at first:

“ You have—bad news!
trays that much! 0h, sir! tell me that—
tell me all! I am strong. I can bear up
under it. Anything is better than this awful
suspense!"

That frown was gone, now, and as he
turned to meet that lOnging yet fearful gaze,
Wallace Gilmore was once more master of
himself, and his smile partially relieved those
fears even before his tongue spoke.

“ if I really bring tidings, Miss Fanny, ’tis
hardly bad news, for---”

Less able to bear up against hope than de-
spair, the maiden swaye like one nitaCked
with vertigo, and Wallace Gilmore promptly
improved his opportunity, lendinrr her gentle
suppart to the nearest couch, w ere he sat
down by her side, holding her trembling
hands in his, speaking rapidly yet soothing-
ly the while.

“I honestly believe I may bid you hope,
Miss Fanny! I firmly feel that your father
is yet alive and will be heard from if not
actually seen, in a very short space of time.”

Fanny quickly rallied now that her worst
fears were banished, and with a soft flush
creeping into her fair cheeks, making her
look even more lovely than before as she be-
gan to realize her situation, she gently freed
her lltlntiStllltl mow-d a hitaway from the
gentleman seated beside her.

Your face he-

 

7

3

Wallace Gilmore was q iiick-wittcd enough.
and knew how to take a hint without waiting
for worse.

Quietly rising, he drew a chair nearer the
couch, speaking as he reseated himself, mak-
ing it all seem perfectly rightand natural by
his :ulroitiicss.

“ I really ought to beg your pardon, Miss
Fanny, for so clumsily startling you, but I
had no such intention, I assure you. 1 only
wished to break the news-”

“ You have news, then? Ofiiiy—of father,
sir?”

“ Unless the fellow who brought me word
is a rank impostor—yes,” graVely answered
the gentleman.

Fanny lost something of that glad antici-
pation from her face, but she was gathering
licr shaken nerves, now, and bravely asked a
further explanation, with her eyes instead of
mice. .

Bowing to signify his Comprehension of
that mute request, \Vallace Gilmore seemed
arranging his own thoughts for a brief space,
then spoke with greater deliberation:

“ I will tell you all about it, Miss Fanny,
and then you will be better able to judge-
just how much this information is worth.

“When I had the pleasure of escorting
you home, last evening, after saving you
further annoyance from that trampish-look
ing rascal, I had just a bit too much food for
thought to pay any particular attention to
what might be goin on around me. And
so—well, as it turne out, some one saw me
as I left this house, and dogged me clear to
my rooms!"

“You were not—no harm came to you,
sir?” almost timidly asked the maiden after
a brief pause, like one feeling a remark of
some sort is expected.

Gilmore gave a slight start, then smiled
faintly.

“ I really beg your pardon, Fan—Miss
Barbour! was thinking of—of something
else. I didn’t—let that pass, please, and I’ll
tell you inst what did happen, then.

“Not ast night, nor this mornin , either,
but well along this afternoon. i fellow
came to me, and after beating around the
bush until my stock of patience was well-
nigh exhausted, let fall some hints as to your
father, Anson Barbour.”

The anxious daughter made a quick, im-
patient gesture as she cried out in her eager-
ness to learn all:

“Why did you not bring him here, to me?
Oh, tell me where I can find him, so I can
glean from his own lips—my poor, lost
father!”

Her fears gained the upper-hand once more,
for Wallace Gilmore was shaking his head,
decidedly, and she put the worst inter-
pretation upon that gesture.

“I surely would have brought the fellow
to see you, Miss Fanny, had I felt certain he
was ’ust what he claimed to be I was
afrai ——-I feared for you, lest something
prove wrong, you understand?”

“I wish I could understand, but—what
could harm me, sir?" faltered the maiden,
brushing a hand across her brows with a
troubled air.

Wallace Gilmore made a slight gesture,
then added:

“I may have been wrong; I’m trying to
hope I was wrong; but still I couldn’t help-
doubting the fellow—and I’ll tell you why:

“110 et fall sundry hints as though he
knew something of importance concerning a
gentleman named Anson Barbour—” ‘

“ My father!"

.“ Your father, yes. But when I tried to
pin him down to naked facts, and asked him
for more positive information, the fellow
squirmed out of it after a fashion which
made me half-suspect he was far more knave
than honest messenger!”

“Oh, if I might only see him, face to
face!" passionately exclaimed the daughter,
hands clasping and 9 CS 3“ “glow- “He
would not refuse to to l me! I surely could
glean— May I not see him, sir?”

Wallace Gilmore lleSitflth before making
answer. There was a _slight frown wrink-
ling his brows, and a light as of uneasiness
in his gray eyes.

He seemed debating within himself just
how much he ought to tell, but then his mus-
tached lips parted, to pronounce:

“Please wait, Miss anny, until you have

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15

 

heard me to a finish, then if you still desire
to see this fellow—”

“Surely, since he comes from my fa-
ther—”

"Does be, though?” swiftly interjected
Gilmore. “That's the doubt I’m worrying
over the most, don't you see, Miss Fanny?
If he really knew anything of importance,
wouldn’t he be willing to tell me, especially
as I bade him set his own price for the in-
formation?"

“ You think, then?"

“Might it not be that he noticed some of ,

the advertisements you haVe inserted in the
papers, and from them conceived an idea
that he might bleed your purse?"

“If so, why refuse the reward you offered
him, sir?”

\Vallace Gilmore gave an abrupt start at
this crisply-put query, and his visage bright-
ened up wonderfully as he ejaculated:

“I never once thought of that! Why
should be, for a fact? And— Let me fin-
ish, please, Miss Fanny, then I’ll listen to
your opinion. '

“ This fellow—Bascom Hooper, as he gave
his name—told me he had been looking you
up for several days, .but that he failed to
strike oil until last night, when he recog-
nized you as we were just reaching this
house.

“He said he watched until I came forth,
then he dogged me borne, only leaving after
he had learned my name and the fact that I
was a permanent guest at that hotel.

“ After making this explanation, he let
fall the hints I told you of, only to doggedly
decline giving me more light, let me offer
what I might. _

“ When I accused him of being a fraud,
he retorted that it made very little difference
what my opinion of him might be, so long
as the young lady took him for what he was
worth. And then he swore ri ht roundly
that he held proof sufilcient to ally satisfy
Fanny Barbour he came direct from her long-
missing father; but that he positively de-
clined to speak more definitely to an outsider
like—myself! ’

Wallace Gilmore flung out a hand as he
pronounced that last word, with the air of
one who has fairly rid himself of an incon-
venient burden, but Fanny hardly heeded
the man in her intenseinterest in the messa e
be brought, imperfect though that surey
was.

“Oh, if you had only brought him here!
If I only might—why has he not come to me,
then, since he knew I lived here?"

Gilmore shook his head, gravely, then
slowly made reply:

“I’m afraid you’ll have to blame me for
that, Miss Fanny. In my fears lest you be
rudely annoyed, I took a precaution—well,
then, to boil it all down. I told the fellow to
keep away from here until I gained permisv
sion to introduce him, under penalty of be-
ing arrested as a blackmailer!"

Her face wore a troubled, regretful look,
but Fanny could not bring herself to say
just what she thought. At least, this gentle-
man had acted for what he thought her best
interests.

Wallace Gilmore brightened up a bit as he
failed to receive the reproof he clearly antici-
pated, and rising from his seat, he spoke
again:

“ I can plainly see you think I acted un-
wisely in threatening this stranger, Miss
Barbour, but—”

“Nohno, not unwisely from your point of
view, sir, but—is there no way by which I
can summon that stranger, sir? If I might
only see him face to face, surely I could win
the whole truth from his lips?”

“You shall see him, Miss Fanny, if he
hasn’t jumped the town l"

————

CHAPTER XIV.
TIIE MISSING MINan’s MESSENGER.

WALLACE GILMORE caught up his hat as
he spoke, but paused, as Fanny Barbour
gave a low exclamation, her face betraying
that new fear.

“ You do not think—surely you have not
frightened him away?”

“ Not unless he is actually the impostor I
took him to be,” quickly assured the man.
“If he has fled from Denver, that will be
ample proof as to his trickery. If he is

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honest, be sure he will remain in town until
he has fully performed his mission." I

“And you—can you find him, Mr. Gil- i
more?”

“If he is in tcwn, yes,” decisively assert-
ed lVallace. “I will not only find, but I’ll
fetch him here for you to question, Miss
Fanny. I'util then, good-by!"

Like one who means to waste no unneces~
sary time in getting down to solid business,
\Vallace Gilmore left the room and house,
taking no heed of if he noted the fact that
the maiden followed him to the front door,
lingering there until his briskly-moving
figure faded away amidst the shadows of
night.

Fanny was still standing on the threshold,
her thoughts so wholly occupied with this
fresh complication in the mystery which she
was hoping to solve, that she never heard a
sound of that stealthy approach, nor knew
that any eyes were upon her trim shape as it
stood outlined against the lighted hallway, 5
until a low, husky voice addressed her,§
with. . g

” Isu’t this Miss Fanny Barbour, ma‘am?" 1

The maiden started and shrunk back a'
pace, but before she could do more or say
aught, the roughly-clad form of a man came
forward into the gasvlight, cne hand making
a deprecatory gesture while its Irate deferen-
tially touched the brim of a soft felt hat.

“ I beg your pardon, ma’am, if I startled
you by speaking so abruptly; but I was
afraid you'd draw back, and I’d lose my
chance of Speakin at all. So---you really
are Miss Fanny Bar our?"

“ I am Miss Barbour. And you are- -”

“I reckon he told you, ma‘am,” with
shoulders shrugging and thumb twitching
toward the corner where her eyes had lost
sight of Wallace Gilmore. "I’m Bascom
Hooper, who -—”

Fanny gave a low, glad cry that cut short
his explanation, and the next instant her
hands were closing upon his nearest arm,
urging him up those steps to the entrance of
the boarding-house.

“Oh, sir, I’m so glad! I began to fear
that--- My father? Tell me of my poor,
dear father! You have seen him? He is
alive- and Well?"

Bascom Hooper flashed a swift glance

around, up and down that quiet street, as
though he feared observation or interrup-
tion, then stepped hastily forward, taking
the maiden with him.
“ Beg your pardon, miss,” he said, as the
heavy oor swung to behind them, his hat
coming off to reveal the frosty hair covering
a not unshapely head. “Reckon you’ll
think I‘m.pretty brash, but the fact is-'--
did that young gent tell you he swore to
turn me over to the cops if I came here to
see you, without his permission?”

“ That was a mistake, for which Mr. Gil-
more is sorry, now," quickly explained the
maiden, leading the way through ball to
the back parlor, where she knew they stood
little danger of untimely interruption, at
that hour. “Now, sir, pray relieve my sus
pensel My father?"

Bascom Hooper cast a slow glance of ap-
proval around the room, giving a curt nod
of his head as though fully content with his
present surroundings, apparently without
hearing that anxious question.

Almost involuntarily Fanny Barbour took
note of his outer man, even then feeling a
vague wonder that Wallace Gilmore should
have so promptly set down this person as an
impostor.

Something past the middle age, Bascom
Hooper was firmly if not very heavily built,
his frame giving evidence of no little mus-
cular power, in combination with great
activity.

Both hair and full beard were now iron-
gray, but they had once been of ink black-
ness, to mate his dark eyes, still full of fire
and animation, even while in comparative
repose, as now.

IIis garb was cheap, but fairly well fitting
and perfectly clean. He seemed more like a
laboring man in comfortable circumstances
than the tramp or “traveling fraud" to
which Wallace Gilmore had likened him.

Those piercing eyes suddenly came back
to the maiden, catching her making this
visual study, and Bascom Hooper gave a
grim smile and subdued chuckle as Fanny

 

 

 

drew back a bit, in slight confusion.

“Don’t mention it, ma’am, for I was giv-
ing you the chance on purpose, just to part-
way balance the impression that young gent
may have left on your mind.”

"' I never--—be didn’t---if you would please
tell me of father, sir?” falteringly spoke up
the anxious’daughter.

“ That‘s just what I came here for,
ma‘am, and to make the send-off as smooth
as may be---Anson Barbour is playing in
mighty hard luck, just now, but he was
never more alive, nor ever in sounder health,
than he is this blessed minute!”

Fanny gave a gasping breath of intense
relief, sinking back upon the couch with
face very pale, with one hand clasped above
her wildly-throbbing heart, but with the
awful dread those first words had given birth
to, banished from her mind.

“With so much by way of a starter, miss,
I‘ll talk straight as a Stretched string, lettin
the boss do the smoothing over when he and
you meet up with each other: and that'll be
pretty much when you feel like it, Miss
Fann '."

“ he boss?
sir?"

“ He's my boss, yes,” with a short nod of
assent. “Ile‘s playing in such hard luck,
right now, that he couldn’t well come here
after you, miss, or he’d be making all this
chin-music instead of me: see?”

“I don’t— Father sent you, sir? How
did he know—”

“ Through the newspapers, miss. The
advertisements you put in, asking informa-
tion concerning Anson Barbour. told him
right where to look for you; leastways, that
you were here in Denver. And so—well,
he sent me here to hunt you out and fetch
you to him, quickas the law allows!”

“ To join him—where at, sir?"

Bascom Hooper shook his head, positively.

“As to that. ma‘am, I’m not saying, just
now nor just here, but the distance to your
father isn’t so mighty great but what you
might cross it on horseback, or in a rig, for
the matter 0’ that.”

This queer evasion in a measure awakened
doubts in Fanny’s breast, and her changing
countenance showed as much, even befort
she spoke again:

“ You say my father sent you, because he
was unable to come in person, Mr. Hooper?”
“ Well, you can let it go at that, ma’am.”

“ Yet you say father was-is well?”

That iron gray head nodded assent once
more.

“Then, why didn‘t father write to me?
\Vhy not send me a line in his own hand,
over his own signature, that Imight be sure
you—1) ‘

An abrupt gesture cut her vehement speech
short, and Bascom Hooper made crisp reply
to her growing doubts.

“I’ve got nothing at all to do with that,
ma‘am. I reckon the boss will explain it
all when you two come together once more.
If not—well, if that meeting fails to take
place, I'm not the one in fault!”

The stranger settled a bit further in his
chair, but then, as though struck by asud-
dcn memory, or, possibly, warned by the
growing doubts with which yonder fair face
was clouded, he leaned forward with one
hand slipping into his breast, to emerge
again holding a small parcel done up in
blank paper.

Ilis roughened fingers quickly unwrapped
the paper as he added:

“Did you ever happen to see anything like
this, ma‘am?’ '

Ile extended a hand, in the palm of which
gleamed a golden locket and coiled chain,
such as are frequently worn about the throat
by woman or child; and as Fanny Barbour
leaned eagerly forward, a slight motion of
that hand turned the locket over to exhibit
another side, curiously and elaborately enam-
eled in colors.

The maiden gave a low, gasping cry as
this met her eyes, and she almost snatched

Do you mean—my father,

the jewelry from his palm, turning toward -

the nearest gas-jet, the more accurately to
observe that work of art.

“Have I ever—look!” and her thumb
pressed a hidden spring which caused the
locket to fly open on its hinges, letting the
light fall upon a pair of admirably-painth

miniatures, one of a woman the other of ’a '

little girl. “My mother!’ she added with
a choking sob pressing her lips to t.;e 101‘-

 

 

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trait, then glancing less keenly at the other
likeness.

Bascom Hooper smiled grimly as he saw
this, but his lips remained closed, like one
fairly well satisfied with the way matters
are working, and wise enough to let well
alone.

Fanny Barbour lifted her free hand to her
own throat, drawing from her bosom by the
chain attached, another locket which proved
to be an exact counterpart of the one pro-
duced by this messenger from the long-
niissing miner, Anson Barbour.

Touching a like spring, Fanny leaned
nearer to that messenger, showing him the
two portraits her locket contained; one of
the same child held in a leaf of the first
locket, its opposite miniature that of a man
under middle age, bearded heavily, yet bear-
ing an almost startling resemblance to that
little girl.

“See!” she said, agitatedly, first showing
the enameled back of the locket, then expos-
ing the inside. “ Both alike! My picture,
taken at the same time; in your locket with
mother, in mine with father!”

Bascom Hooper glanced at the child's faCe,
but lingered much longer over that of the
father. Then he spoke in softer tones:

“That's the boss, plain enough, nia‘ain,
though he don't look quite so mighty spruced
up, now, nor quite so young, for the matter
0’ that! Still, I'd know it for the boss if I
was to meet it in the dark!"

“And he — my father gave you this
locket?”

“The boss (lid just that, ma’am!" positive-
ly asserted the messenger, head nodding in
concert with tongue. “He give me that,
saying for me to show it only if I couldn‘t

- get you to listen to reason without.”

“Not show it? I don’t— What does all
this puzzle mean, sir?” exclaimed the bewil-
dered maiden.

“That’s more’n I'm at liberty to explain,
ma’am,” gravely declared Hooper, his heavy
brows Contracting a bit. " It‘ll all be made
clear enough, I reckon, when you come to
the boss—for you‘ll come, ma’am?"

“If I only knew—and yet—the locket!
Mainma‘s picture!"

That frown became little less than a scowl,
now, but before those downcast eyes were

lifted to his face again, Baseoni Hooper was,

forcing a smile which seemed genuine, even
if it was counterfeit.

“You see, Miss Barbour, it’s just this
way: The boss gave me that locket at the
last, and told me to show it to you, if I just
had to. If I did show it, he said, I was to
say like this:

“ ‘If she’s still my cliild——if she’s a true
daughter to the man whose portrait shows in
this locket—tell Fanny to make all possible
haste in coming to me— her only living par-
entl’

“That is what the boss said, Vliss Bar-
bour, word for word. I couldn‘t have for-
gotten my word, because I kept on saying
of ’em over until they were like mighty
black print on my brain. Now—what is
it, ma'am '2”

“ if I only knew! Why didn‘t he come,
in person? You said—surely you told me
that—he is well? He is not—lie has met
with no serious injury, sir?"

Fanny fairly held her breath, but Bascom
Hooper hesitated to speak. ‘

CHAPTER XV.
A DRIVE CU’I‘ siion'r.

BARELY long enough for that hesitation to
make itself felt, then the messenger from the
missing miner spoke in stem, almost dogged
tones:

"If she’s still my child—if she‘s a true
daughter to the man whose portrait shows in
this locket—tell Fanny to make all possible
haste in coming to me—lier_ only living

parent!”
Word for word that real or,pretended mes-

.sage was repeated, and then ‘Bascom Hooper

closed lips over locked jaws, like one who
has no further argument to offer.

The maiden was more Strongly impressed
by this crisp repetition than she would have
been by a more elaborate argument, and as
her troubled eyes drooped to that enameled
locket alluded to. her hesitation vanished and

-_Bhe cried, impulsively:

 

“I am his child!
lwill go to him, oh, so gladly!
can 1, Sir?”

“That’s my part of the job, ma’am," more
briskly spoke up the man from the lost one,
his face brightening up wonderfully as this
last obstacle seemed to melt away. “It’ll
come out all right, now, unless you should
take a sudden skeer—never mind that,
though! You’ll go-and right off?”

“Tell me how I may, sir, and I will not
fail you, since it’s my dear father who calls,"
bravely answered the maiden, rising to her
feet as Bascom llooper left his chair.

“ I'll show you the way to the one that’s
waiting so mighty eager for you, ina’am, just
as quick as I can get a handy rig for the trip.
And while I‘m doing that, reckon you’d bet~
ter pack up a small bundle of such doin’s as
a lady wants most when she’s where folks
have to sort 0’ rough it, like. You under-
stand, don't you ?” - .

“ We are going out of town, then, sir?"

“ Not so mighty far but what you can get
back here if you need any little thing right
bad, though,” he said with a genial smile, as
he picked up his hat and moved toward the
door. " That don‘t frighten you too much,
does it, Miss Fanny?"

She shook her head negatively, though her
face remained pale and in her big blue eyes
lingered a troubled light.

“ It's only that we may be a few days
where you couldn’t easy get a supply of
such things, or fit yourself out again; noth-
ing worse. And—you don’t want all this
bee-hive swarming out to see you take wing,
I reckon—eh?"

“ Do you mean that I mustn’t tell any per-
son where I am going, sir?" asked Fanny,
with something of doubt showing itself in
her face, again.

“ Not knowing, you can’t easy tell,” with
a subdued chuckle. that seemed the very
essence of good nature. “ What I meant
was it might be just a weenty bit awkward
to you, if they was to ask where you
was bound in such a hurry, and what for;
see?”

That put a little better complexion on the
matter, and Fanny nodded her comprehen-
sion, saying as they passed into the hall:

“ Very well. I’ll be ready when you
return, if——-that will not be so very long,
sir?”

“Just long ’nough to get a good hack,
ma’ain. Until tlien——so long!’

Bascom Hooper took his leave hurriedly,
and then Fanny passed tip the stairs to her
own chamber, where she immediately fell to
work packing a small valise or hand-bag
with sundry articles which she-could not
well dispense with, her brain in an almost
dizzy whirl the while.

She could not well doubt this man, after
the tangible proof he had shown to her; and
yet—what could it all mean?

If her father was living, and well, as that
messenger declared, why had he remained
away for so many weary months? Why (lid
he not come in person to greet the daughter
who inserted the many advertisements his
envo had spoken of?

W at could Bascom Hooper mean by say—
ing her father—his “ boss”——was “ playing
in mighty hard luck?"

A faint, unacknowledged dread lest Anson
Barbour had in some manner come under the
ban of the law more than once intruded it-
self, only to be as often banished with true
daughterly1 loyalty.

’l‘liroug all her haste in selecting and
packing those feminine necessaries, ‘anny
felt a haunting conviction that she ought to
let either or both Wallace Gilmore and
Thomas Gayworthy know of her _hasty flit-
ting, but as often recurred that thinly-vailed
warning let fall by Bascom Hooper.

Although he had. not said so in plain
speech, she felt convmccd that he wished her
method of departure ke t as close a secret as
might be. And—woul publicity injure her
father? -

A little shiver crept over the girl as she
wondered, but she made no attempt to an-
swer her own query; to do that would be
bringing up the haunting dread of the law
once more!

With her bag closely crammed, Fanny put
on her bonnet and wraps, both suitable for a
night ride, pausing for the space of a single
breath at her chamber door, to listen if there

I am his true daughter!
But—how

'V‘ .z‘?~i;-’:a-‘.

 

 

was alikelihood of her meeting either Mrs.
Payson or any of the boarders on her way to
the front door.

There was nothing to indicate such a meet-
ing, but Fanny arranged a word or two
which would sufficiently excuse her a pear-
ance in case any such encounter shoul take
place, then swiftly and silently tripped down-
stairs, through the hall to the front entrance,
giving a sharp breath as she caught the sound
of wheels drawing near.

Opening the door, Fanny emerged from the
boarding-house just as an ordinary-looking
back, or close carriage. such as ply the streets
for casual patrons, rolled up to the curb—
stones, only a short distance from the build-

in .

The door swung open, and a figure sprumr
forth, which Fanny immediately recognize
as that of Basconi IIooper, and with a low,
agitated exclamation she ran down the steps
to the pavement.

“Just in time, nia‘am, and I'm mighty glad
you’re one o’ the few who don’t have to keep
a fellow waiting, cooling his heels while-—
Right this way, please, ina’anil”

lIooper spoke briskly enough, though in
subdued tones, as he reached out one hand
for that bag, its mate offeiing assistance to
the young lady herself; but before Fanny
could enter the back, there came a sharp ex—
clamation from up the street, and as both in-
voluntarily turned eyes in that direction,
Wallace Gilmore came swiftly on the scene.

Recognition was mutual, and with only a
curt nod toward the young lady, Gilmore
spoke to the man:

" What does all this mean, Hooper? I
thought I warned you—”

“By what right, I'd like to know, sir?"
surlin retorted the messenger from the long-
missing miner. “I'm taking this lady 'to
one she’s anxious to meet, and you’ve no
right to interfere, as I know of!"

"He say true, Miss Barbour?" turning to
the maiden and lifting his hat politeIV.
“ You are going of your own free wi i,
then?"

“ Yes, sir, but—” .hesitatingly began
Fanny, and thus givin the oung man the
very opening he most desired:

“Very well, then. Permit me, please.”

He gently took her arm, assisting her into
the hack, then stepping through the same
open door with adroit Celerit Y, seating him-
self by the side of the young Indy.

“ 0h, 1 say!” burst forth Bascom Hooper,
clearly taken aback by this cool procedure.

“Say on, my dear fellow, but if you think
talk alone can get me out of this seat. you’re
’way off your base,” coolly retorted Gilmore.

“ But I never bargained for your company,
and that isn't—-”

“ You get so much the more for your
money, then, ilooper. I am going with this
lady, to make sure she don't—if you’re play-
ing on the dead square, man, why raise ob-
jections to my accompanying you?”

"The lady—”

“Can speak for herself, -no doubt. Are
you willing that I should hear you company
until you meet your father, Miss Barbour?”

“Oh, sir, if you only will!" impulsive]
exclaimed Fanny, trembling like a lea ,
hardi knowing what to think with all this
crow ing upon her so suddenl .

“Will that content you, Ir. Hooper?”
asked Gilmore, a half-sneer in his voice as he
turned once again to look at that irresolute
figure.

The messenger was looking down the street,
in the opposite direction from that in which
Wallace Gilmore had Come, where the corner
gaslight shone upon a uniformed figure, the
wearer of which was evidently gazmg curi-
ously their way.

Like one who concludes to accept what
cannot well be helped, Bascom Hooper spoke
sharply to the driver on the box, then entered
the hack and closed the door, just as the
horses sprung into mOtIOD-

“All right; if Miss Fanny don’t object, I
can’t see as I’ve_any real cal to kick against
your crowdingin. slr,’ grufiiy declared the
messenger, ta ing the opposite seat.

As the hack rove past that uniformed
sha e, Fanny Barbqur looked out at the low-
ere window, glancuig back at the building
which had been her home for the past few
weeks; but as they whirled around the next
corner, she sunk back again, lowering her
veil as though there was something very

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The King-Pin Sport.

17

 

 

near her eyes which she wished to hide from
these men.

The man on the box-seat evidently had re-
ceived his instructions beforehand, for he
drove at a rapid, steady gait, making turn
after turn, yet all the while leaving the more
populous portion of the city further behind
them; and it speedily became apparent that
their immediate destination lay somewhere
outside of Denver.

Both Gilmore and Hooper respected the
evident agitation of the fair passenger, and
hardly a word passed between the two men
until after the city was left fairly behind
them, and the back was rolling at a lively
rate along one of the sandy roads for whic
Denver is noted.

Although the twinkling lights of the desert
city were still visible, that road seemed utter-
ly deserted by all save their vehicle and its
contents, nor had they met a human being
since fairly passing the outlying shantics of
the town.

Wallace Gilmore evidently was growing
nervous or uneasy from some cause, for be
shifted on his seat, repeatedly thrusting head
out at window, glancing both ahead and to
the rear. He was trying to make out their
present whereabouts, or, possibly, striving to
guess their destination, for be new back at
len th, sharply asking Bascom Hooper whith-
er t e were bound, and how much longer it
woul take the team to get there?

“ You crowded in without being asked,
and if you don‘t like the way I’m running
this machine, get out and walk back!" blunt-
1y said Hooper.

“I begin to believe you‘re a scoundrel
who—” _

“ And I know you’re a fool!” harshly cried
the other, fastening both hands upon the
younger man with vicious swrftncss, dashing
him against the door of the hack with such
force that the catch gave way. letting both
men fall outside just as the driver, evidently
startled by their angry voices, reined in his
team.

Wallace Gilmore fell undermost, and that
fall seemed to have stunned him, or to have
driven the breath from his body so complete-
ly that he was poorly fitted for a fight with
such an adversary as Bascom Hooper proved
himself.

Still, he struggled to what extent lay in his
power, and there came to the cars of the be-
wildered and frightened maiden, his hoarse
cry:

“ You treacherous devil!
defense, but—”

His further speech was cut short by a pis-
tol-shot, and while Bascom Hooper sprung
to his feet, the'form of Wallace Gilmore lay
there on the sands, looking awfully corpse-
like in the clear moonlight!

CHAPTER XVI.
A DOVE AMONG vum‘ttnss.

HALF-paralyzed by this sudden outbreak,
and at first unable to fully comprehend what
it really meant, Fanny Barbour saw the men
grappling each other, saw the door fly open
to let them pitch forth upon the sands where
a brief struggle ended in—what?

She saw the agile figure of Bascom Hooper
spring to his feet, and caught a glimpse of a
gleaming weapon in his partly-extended
hand: Covering that now silent, motionless
shape lying there in the moonlight!

Even yet the bewildered maiden failed to
realize the full extent of the peril which sure-
ly menaced herself, but then came a warning
cry from the lips of the driver.

” Mind the gal don’t slip yer grip, pardner!
Ef she takes a notion fer to jump the game
like— Stiddy, thar!”

His horses gave a start as though to break
away in fright at the smell of burnt powder
-—or, was it the freshly shed blood?

Bascom Hooper gave a harsh oath as he
turned to jump for their heads, at the same
time saying:

“He would have it, mate! I had to get
shut of him somehow, and it came easiest to
blow his roof off!”

Like a revelation the whole terrible truth
broke upon the maiden, and she realized that
she had blindly entered a cunning trap laid
by as yet unknown enemies who— Her poor
father!

Wild with fright Fanny pushed back that
swinging door and leaped to earth, turning
toward the far-off lights of the great city in

I’ll die in her

a j. V"4::3.?;\. .._, A v," .1 r , ‘

 

her flight; but she was not to escape the snare
of the fowlers so readily!

Bascom Hooper was now at the head of
the frightened span, and with another warn-
ing cry, the driver leaped from his perch,
dashing swiftly in pursuit of the fleeing
maiden, overtaking her and grasping both
arm and waist, laughing harshly as he
brought her to a standstill.

“ \Vhoa-ap, prittyrbe night!” he cried,
coarsely, turning his prize around until her
frightened eyes met his.

With a sickening dread Fanny recognized
the thievish tramp who snatched her purse
on the evening of her first encountering Wal-
lacc Gilmore, and now her last faint hope
fled.

Beyond a doubt she was trapped by the
enemy!

“ Better’n nippin’ weasels, hain’t it, pritty?”
chucklineg asked the tramp,thcn tightening
his grip about her waist, lifting her clear of
the ground and hurr ing back to where Bas-
com Hooper guarde the team.

“Ilyar's yer perrimmon. pardner! Shell
we swap ofl’? Ef you’ll hitch onto the gal,
I'll keer fer the critters!"

As his loathsome clutch fell away, Fanny
seemed to pluck up courage once more; but
ere she could speak, Hooper sternly broke
forth with:

“Have you turned crazy, Miss Barbour?
Keep quiet, if only for your dear father’s
sake I”

“ My father!
said— ’

“I didn’t lie to you, either,” coolly cut in
the messenger, real or counterfeit, one hand
going forth to close upon her wrist. “I sim-
ply htd part of the truth, until you should be
better prepared to learn it all.

“ You promised to take me to niy—-—to An-
son Barbour!"

“I promised you just that, and I’ll make
you the same promise over again if you wish
to have it,” came the swift retort. “Your
father is at no very great distance from
here, anxiously awa ting your arrival, but
when—”

Fanny gave a desperate effort to break
away from that grip, hardly knowing what
words passed her lips in that terrible agita-
tion; yet they put in shape the awful fear
which had freshly assailed her on witnessing
the dovmt'all of Wallace Gilmore.

“A lie! Y0u have murdered him—my
poor, dear father! Let me go! I will not—
Lct me go, ,I say! How can I trust you fur-
?her, when you have acted so treacherous-
y?"

“ Not toward you, nor toward Anson Bar,-
bour, my boss, your father,” the man coldly
asserted. “If I wasn’t sent to you by him,
hpilv could I show you that locket and chain,
g r ?"

Her struggles ceased on the instant, as
though his words were producing the very
effect he most desired, and under that im-
pression Bascom Hooper relaxed his grip
about her wrist.

“ You begin to see it, don't you, ma’am?"
he added, in more soothing tones. “You’re
not so mighty foolish as to throw aw'ay your
last, your only chance of rejoining the father
you’ve been mourning as lost or as dead for
so many months? You surely wouldn't—”

"You merely made use of the locket you
stole from his body, to decoy me away from
all my friends!" impetuously exclaimed the
maiden, once more yielding to those awful
susplcmns.

As these words passed her lips, Fanny
jerked her wrist out of that relaxed grasp,
and with a sharp, far-reaching scream for
help, she sprung away through the night in
headlong flight!

Her action was taken on the impulse of
the moment, for she had just caught a glim se
of several dark, phantom-like shapes mov ng
across the plain, evidently headed in their
direction. probably having caught the sound
of that pistol-shot.

Taking the chances on their proving
friendly—4nd surely could be worse
than remaining a helpless v ctim in the grip
of this false messenger, whose ruthless hands
had but a minute since brutally slain the one
friend and protector she could boast of—
Fanny fled at her best pace directly for those
, dimly-seen shapes, crying repeatedly to them
for assistance.

Strangely enough, as it seemed at first

You lied to me! You

 

 

 

glance, Bascom Hooper made no effort to
catch the fleeing maiden, the clear moon.
light showing a grim grin on his strong
face as he looked after her receding form.

And the tramp, who had taken charge of
the horses once more, actually broke forth in
a hearty(gufl'aw, like one enjoying a prime
if maske jest.

The explanation of all this was not long
delayed, for when Fanny Barbour drew near
the horsemen into whom those vague out-
lines passed, she was caught and held pris-
oner, not the slightest notice being given her
agitated explanations, no heed paid her
prayers for assistance!

“ I reckon this ycr’ bit 0’ dry-goods sort
0’ b’longs to you, pardner,” one of the
horsemen uttered, as they drew nearer the
hack.

" I reckon it does, mate,” briefly answered
Hooper, his strong fingers once more closin
upon a wrist, while his other arm passes
about the maiden's waist, lending her the
support her failing limbs so sorely required,
just then.

“That‘s all right, then, an’ you needn't
putt yourself out too mi hty much a-givin’
of us-all thanks fer ropin’ of our stray,
pardner!" facetiously added the ellow, then
shrugging his shoulders as his gaze turned to
where the body of Wallace Gilmore lay as it
had fallen.

“Cold meat fer breakfast, ch? Waal,
you al'ays was a cuss fer luck, Bas’ Hooper!
All the fun over afore we ketched up,
too!”

Fanny Barbour gave a low moan and a
shiver as she both heard and saw all this. It
banished her last hope, for she could not help
realizing that these horsemen looked upon
Bascom Hooper as their present leader, hence
she could hope for nothing further from that
quarter.

A low, hard laugh came from the bearded
lips of the chief at that repining speech, then
he uttered:

" I‘d cheerfully have given you the job,
Pazker, had you joined us in time to take it
off my hands.”

“Ef you’d jest let drap a hint thar was
ary sech a streak 0’ fat, Hooper!”

“I didn’t expect anything of the sort my
own self, so how could I? And the hot-
headed fool wouldn’t hold in until you
came up. I just had to lay him out, and-—
Parker?”

“Head up an’ both years open, boss!”

“Jump down and take a look at the fel-
low, will you? I hadn’t time to put in any
fancy licks, but I shot to kill, as the shortest
wa out of the bungle. Well?”

arker sprung out of the saddle to bend
over that figure, and now he rose erect,
tersely reporting:

” A hole through his cabeza you kin stick
two fingers in, boss!”

“Past giving any more trouble, then?”

“ Waal, mehbe he’ll be able fer to kick up
a bobbery down below when he smells brim-
stone an’ sulphire, boss, but he won't never
make no mo trouble up hyar, on this airth!"
with grim facetiousness reported the man.

“All right!” answered Hooper, turning
toward the tramp who had acted as hack-
driver for the occasion. “You can dump
him into your cart, Dobson; and dispose of
it where and in such a manner that there’ll
be no after-cla . Understand, Jake ‘2”

“Cl'ar as c can water, boss!" briskly an.
swered the tramp. “I’m the party posy ez
kin turn that werry trick fit to suit the
queen’s taste, I air! Ef one o’ the lad’s’ll
hold my team—”

“Dump the carcass aboard, will you,
Parker?” cut in Bascom Hooper.

“ Why not? Come up, hyar, you limber-
‘ackt" he chuckled as be bent over to fasten

is irreverent clutches on that figure, half.
dragging, half carrying it over to where the
hack now stood. “Git right inside, boss!-
Take a squat onto the softest quishion, an'
don't spit out o’ the. winder ef ye kin find
room on the silk curtains! So—thar ye be,
an’ I hain’t quite long ’nough time to spar’
fer to wait to rake in yer kind thanks, boss!
So-long, an’ sweetest dreams when ye git
thar!”

With a hoarse laugh at his own clumsy
wit, Parker bowed low to the supposed pas-
senger, then turned away to mount his
animal.

While this was taking

I

place, Basoom

18

The King-Pin Sport.

 

 

Hooper lifted Fanny Barbour to a side-saddle
with which one of those horses was equipped,
thus proving past all possible doubt that
these men belonged to his party, and that
they had fully expected to meet both leader
and captive at or near that precise spot.

For the time being the maiden was pretty
well broken in spirit, and bade fair to be
easily managed until she could rally from
the terrible awakening thus given her.

Mounting another led horse. llascom
Hooper settled limself in the saddle, then
turned for a parting word of caution to Jake
Dobson, the tramp driver.

“ Get shut of that earrion as quick as you
can, while making a clean job of, it Jake.
Take the “team back where it came from,
then lay low until it‘s certain there’s no row
kicked up over the missing Sport. You
take it all in, don’t you?"

“ An’ got her all digested, bossl” confi-
dently assured the tramp, fastening the door,
then climbing nimbly up to his seat. "Ef I
make ary botch or bungle, you kin kick me
from Denver to York! ’

Without answering this speech, or borrow-
ing further trouble on the score of the young
man who had dropped like a log at the crack
of his revolver, Bascom Hooper turned away
with a nod which sent his mounted men rid~
ing onward with their backs toward the dis-
tant city, while he rode close by the side of
poor Fanny, who sat droopingly in her sad-
dle, seemingly Wholly broken in spirit by
this bitter reverse which had come upon her
just as her he es were soaring highest.

For some ew minutes they rode on in
silence, but then Buscom Hooper, who had
been covertly eying his prisoner all the
while, broke the silence which had reigned
so long, saying:

“ You're making things heap sight worse
than they really are, Miss Fanny. I in taking
you to your father, safe enough. And now

’11 say What I did n’t dare whisper in Denver;
Anson Barbour is alive and well, but he is
boss of a road-agent outfit, with a big price
set on his headl”

CHAPTER XVII.

ANOTHER PUZZLE FOR TEN-STRIKE TOM.

Trioi'iAs Garwon'rnr was no novice in
the saddle, but it can hardly be termed a
holiday amusement, this riding post for
nearly two hundred miles along a mountain
sta e-trail—for road it could scarcely be
cal ed.

What he woulu not have done for himself,
Ten-Strike Tom did for the young woman
who had, thanks to a schoolgirl intimacy
with his only sister, “Flossy” Gayworthy,
enga ed him to solve the mystery which sur-
roun ed the fate or present whereabouts of
Anson Barbour, Fanny‘s father.

Without losing a minute beyond what was
absolutely necessary to feed, water and rest
his good horse, the King-Pin Sport made the
hot pace from Leadville to Denver, looking
pale and jaded when the “Queen City of
the Plains” was reached, but even then de-
layir: barely long enough to refit himself at
the c ambers which he had under permanent
en agement.

ittle trace of his extraordinary exertions
remained visible in face, figure or in motions
as Thomas Gayworthy mounted the steps
and rang the door-bell at Widow Payson’s
boarding-house.

Aeou 1e of minutes later he was inside,
asking or Miss Barbour, and Mrs. Paysmi
was etraying something of the motherly
anxiety she had been accumulating ever
since that unceremonious departure was
taken.

At her first words Ten-Strike Tom felt his
heart ive a big jump, then a swift flutter as
thoug something had suddenly gone wrong
with that delicate bit of internal mechanism;
but he held outward control of all emotions,
ancl the worthy landlady never so much as
suspected how powerful was his anxiety to
learn all she could tell.

Unfortunately, that was far from being all
one might have wished.

Miss Fanny had taken her departure with-
out warning or explanation. Her apartment
remained much as usual, her personal .be-
longings not even stowed away in trunk or
valise, as surely would have been the case
had she meant that departure to be {or good
and all.

“ How did she go? And when “I”

«war:   -   , ~ «l,

 

Only the last night that ever was, sirl And l
in a carriage of some sort, Mrs. Payson be-
lieved.

Why that belief?
one way or the other?

No, sir; how could she swear to what she
had no personal knowledge of? But l\'atyv—— J
one of the maids—spoke of hearing a (-ar- l
riage stop in front of the house that eve-
ning, and when she took a sly pet-p out at
the window, she saw a close back just driv-
ingr away. And SO—Miss Fanny had never
been St‘t'll by :116' person living beneath that
roof since then.

\Vhile Mrs. I’ayson was giving up the
little information that she had on that par-
ticular point, (,‘rayworthy was almost uncou-
seiously trying to trace a resemblance bet ween
that fair, still comely and motherly Coun-
tenance, and the face of the dead man whom
he had seen, first and last, in Pop-eyed
Moses’s Good Luck Saloon.

He tried to banish that grim vision, and
to fix his mind wholly on what the landlady
was trying to explain, but with poor success.
He kept seeing that corpse, kept tracing the
resemblance which grew stronger and clear-
er, until he had to bite his lips sharply in
order to keep back the words which would
have carried woeful grief to that poor, un-
suspecting mother!

At length Mrs. Payson ceased speaking,
having fully rung the changes so far as that
unaccountable departure was concerned, and
before she could fairly pick up another
string, Mr. Gayworthy was briefly btit clear-
ly explaining his peculiar interest in that
young lady and her immediate movements.

First showing how important it was that
he should be put into communication with
Miss Barbour as soon as possible, Mr. Gay-
worthy penciled his name and number on
one of his hotel cards, giving this to the land-
lady and begging her to immediately send
word to that address when she either saw or
heard from Miss Barbour.

Without breaking to the mother the sad
tidings he might of her son, Ten-Strike ’I‘om
left the house, feeling a strange heaviness
about the heart-region as he thought of
Fanny Barbour and her unexpected vanish-
merit. -

Whither had she gone, and why? If
obliged to leave that boarding-house for any
urgent cause, why had she not notified him,
her confidential agent?

Had she taken her departure in the close
hack spoken of? If so, who ordered it?
How had she secured its services, since none
of the' servants employed at her boarding-
place seemed to have run her errand?

Full of this fresh puzzle, Ten-Strike Tom
took no heed of whither his mechanically-
moving legs were carryinghim, and he would
have come into actual collision with a tall,
athletic figure in uniform moving in an op-
posite direction to himself, only for a better
seeing pair of eyes. .

“Surely not too proud to pass the time 0’
day with a man on duty, Mr. Gayworthy?"
pronounCed a deeply musical voice, and giv-
ing both start and exclamation, the King-Pin
Sport came back to the present.

“ Hallo, Williamson!" he said, in response,
recognizing the policeman whose stalwart
shape barred his way for the moment. “I
never saw vou until—”

“ Your cad was in the moon, for a fact,
sir! Reckon you’ve hit a lucky streak, and
was counting up your golden chicks—eh ?”

Ten-Strike Tom gave a little start, then
glanced backward to catch just a glimpse of
the iron-railed stone steps marking the Pay-
son lace.

“ say, \Villiamson, is this your beat,
now?”

“And has been since the first of the month
—yes.”

“ You were on dut here last night, then?”

. 'l‘he bi officer n ded assent, that genial
smile fad ng into something a bit more pro-
fessional; for surely that subdued excite-

Was she not positive,

ment, so unusua ne whose steady nerve
had almost beco a by-word, meant more
than showed upon the surface as yet?

Ten-Strike 'i‘om hesitated, but only for a
little. He knew enough of this man to feel
confident he might be trusted with a weigh-
tier matter than even this as yet unexplained
vanisnment appeared to be.

In as few words as possible, yet making
his meaning perfectly clear, Gayworthy told

 

. . ‘- ' imp-.1" ’
r.,.. ’1 f”, . .

this officer why he was seeking the informa-
tion, then bluntly asked him if he had
chanced to note such a vehicle at or any-
where near the I’ayson boarding-house?
Listening quietly, face grave and immobile
the while, Otlieer Williamson gave no sign
until 'l‘enfitrike 'l‘om ceased speaking; but
tin n his helmeted head gave a vigorous nod

‘ to lend emphasis to his words:

" I did just that, sirl"

“' You saw the hack, then?”

“ I saw a hack—yes, sir.”

“ And that hack stopped near the Payson
place? Did you see anybody get into it?
A lady, that is? Come, man, (iear, can‘t you
spit it all out in a lump? ’ angrily exploded
the King-Pin Sport.

But the , uardian of the peace was not one
to be harmed out of the pace he deemed
wisest, and took his own time for explana-
tion.

lie had his attention called to the hack,
firstly, because it was approaching him at a
rate which very nearly passed the limits
raised against fast driving. lie was getting
ready to check if not arrest the reckless
driver, when the hack came to an abrupt
halt, and a passenger jumped out of the
vehicle to greet a lady who---

“ Who came from the boarding-house?
Why don‘t you say it, man?"

“Because I'm not so dead sure as you
’pear to be, sir,” with a touch of sarcasm
pointing his words. “Not seeing the lady
come out of that exact house, w y would I
say she did come out of it?”

“Of course. Go on, please,” Gayworthy
forced himself to utter, calming both voice
and face, putting up with what he could not
amend.

Still, his outburst was not entirely wasted.
The ofiicer began to realize that this was no
ordinary case, and he made quicker work of
what else he had to tell.

lIe Spoke of the hasty approach of a sec-
ond man. who seemed to be on the point of
picking a row with the first one, but who
ended by getting into the hack with the
lad .

“yThen they started off, my way, and just
as they got even with where I was standing,
the lady stuck her head out of the window,
to look back, like she’d forgotten some-
thin ."

“ 'ou would know her face again if you
saw it, Williamson ‘?"

“ I could pick it out of a whole gallery-u
yes, sir!"

“If I try to describe her face---”

“No need, sir. I‘ve seen the lady who
owns that face, time and time again. either
coming out of or going into Widow Payson's
house.”

Ten-Strike Tom made a swift gesture as
though in anger, and it was on the tip of
his tongue to ask why in ~-sometlung»--he
hadn't said as much at the start, instead
of wasting so many minutes in idle chat-
ter.

But Officer Williamson saved himself by
innocently adding:

“And right at the young lady's shoulder
I gimpsed another face I can make oath to,

“ Whose face was that?"

“A sport who’s called Wallace Gilmore,
but---”

“What! that infernal--- ” began Gay-
worthy, excitedly, but biting his too hot
speech short an instant later, to add with
forced calmness:

“ You are dead sure, Williamson? There
is no room for mistake as to the person you
saw with Miss Barbour?"

“ If I was put on my oath, sir, I’d stick to
the same: ’twas Wallace Gilmore, and never
any other person,”firmly declared the police.-
man.

Letting that point drop, as though, after
all, it mattered but little to him, Gayworthy
asked a few other questions, but seeing that
he had pumped that well of information
fairly dry, he promised to see the officer
later on, then turned and swiftly walked
awa through the night.

Although he was calm enough to all out-
ward seeming, both heart and brain were
deeply agitated, and thoughts of anything
rather than a peaceful or happy nature were
rioting in his mind.

If Officer Williamson had spoken sooth---
and he surely talked like one who knew

.17 I. - . I. .,r'__._,‘ .’ h ‘ . ,
it,“ , i .~ .,-.:J,. .  e,“ v

a , ,,,,. 3%,“, in, .,u '...,.

 

WAN—w“...

 

a-.- .(r A,

 

 

- .._~...."“'..~__z':_‘~m._. ..-'-'-'-_., .,. -'~__ r-fnm-~-vv.r-—vum -,.

The King-Pin Sport.

 

 

what he was saying-~-and that man was
Wallace Gilmore, where now was Fanny
Barbour?

“ How did she form his acquaintance?
How did he win her confidence so far that
she would trust herself in his company, at
night, in a‘close conveyance?

“ If they were the owners of the faces
W'illiamson saw, whither were they bound?
Where did Gilmore leave Fanny? For——
surely I couldn‘t have been mistaken in that
fellow? ‘

‘As Ten-Strike Tom asked himself this
question, he mentally recalled one. of the
pictures of that hasty ride over the Leadville
trail; brought back the vision of a meeting
on that wild and lonely route, where a single
horseman was riding toward Leadville, just
as hard as he himself was pelting for Denver.
And that horseman was———V\'a|laee Gilmore!

“ ‘Twas he, and I'm ready to SWHII‘ to that
much! Then—where (lid he leave Fanny?
Last night here, in a hack; this forenoon

onder, on horseback! Now—what is at the
ottom of it all?"

Almost involuntarily his mind turned back
to the mysterious disappearance of Anson
Barbour, father to the girl who had engaged
his services in an endeavor to solve the
strange secret. He recalled the letter last re-
ceived from Anson Barbour, with its rudely-
traced postscript signed “ H. K. Jones.”

And then—that murdered man, at Lead-
ville! His unexplained mention of that
same name, those identical initials! Could it

“Have those devils who got away with
the father, now decoyed his daughter? Has
the killing of Corse Payson got anything to
do with this new turn of the cards?”

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
TRYING TO READ THE RIDDLE.
THESE were only a few sample thoughts,

.doubts, queries, which flocked so swiftly to

the brain of the King-Pin Sport that he had no
time left for debating either or deciding any
one of them. ,

The enigma placed before him for solution
had been dark and dubious enough at the
start, but with this fresh and wholly unex-
Bected complication added, the King-Pin
fletective hardly knew what step to take

rst.

He had turned instinctively toward the
Police Headquarters when he parted from
Officer Williamson, however, and he did not
alter that resolve because of any fresh light
which those inward questions had thrown
over this latest development.

Thomas Gayworthy had long since formed
the acquaintance of the now head of the
Police Department, but never until now had
he found occasion to cultivate that official in
his business capacity.

Still, he felt fair y well assured of a cor-
dial reception, nor was he too sanguine in
this belief. .

After a greeting with tongue and. With
hand, the two men took seats, and without
preamble Ten-Strike Tom opened his bud-

et.

“ I know how fully occupied your time
must be, chief, but I've got a little tale to
tell which will be sufficient excuse for this
intrusion, I have faith. Did you ever hear
of one Anson Barbour?”

“ I’ve heard of him, yes," with a half-
smile as his keen black eyes glanced toward
a poster which hung from the side wall.

“01’ course," said Gafiworthy, following
that glance. “Throug those bills, and
newspaper advertisements; but I meant out-
side of that?" _ '

'i‘he chief of police shook his head, slowly,

“ I understand from some of my men that
there is a young woman—daughter, I think——
of Anson Barbour in town, 110W. making
some further stir in that direction. I have
not met her, nor have Iever seen the man
who appears to have vanished mysteriously,
to my knowledge.” ,

There was just a suspicion of stiffness in
both words and manner, and thYWOTthY
jumped to the conclusion that the offlcml felt
annoyed because he had been almost entirely
ignored by the} friends or relatives of that
missing man, in their search for some clue to
hit present whereabouts, or to his fate if no
longer in the land of the living.

It. was a delicate point to touch upon, but

“54,-3.1 . ‘

 

ig‘fit’kiw"   - -  :‘c  ~ 2“ L r- I '

 

 

Ten-Strike Tom felt that he must make the
effort, else fare the worse.

“ I advised Miss Barbour to place the mat-
ter wholly in your hands, chief, when she
came to me first, through a letter of intro-
duction from my sister, back East. She
seemed to think such action might annoy her
father, when found, and with one reserva-
tion 1 took hold of the case.”

“ And that reservation, sir?”

“ Was this: I’d do my level best to find
AnSon Barbour, but if I was to fail, when
I’d come to the end of my rope I was to feel
free to ask your advice and assistance,
chief.”

Those hard lines relaxed a bit, and the ofii‘
cial bowed his thanks for the implied com-
pliment. Ten~Strike Tom knew the baited
hook was fairly gorged, and then he plunged
into his subject once more.

“ The facts of the case, far as I know
them, sir, run like this:

“Anson Barbour left a daughter back in
Ohio, at school, and fairly well provided
for, far as this world’s goods go, though he
called himself a poor man. And poor he
undoubtedly was, when his position was
compared with what it had been before his
wife died a few years earlier.

“Barbour came West, like miny another
man, resolved to pick up a mammoth fortune
out here in the mining regions.”

“The easiest thing in the world—in one’s
mind!"

Ten-Strike Tom smiled assent to this mur-
mured sarcasm. Though a jest, it was still
a profound truth.

“From what few and wideapart letters
Anson Barbour sent back to his daughter, he
found that about correct, chief. Yet he was
still bitten by the yellow snake; he still lived
in daily hepes of ‘striking it rich,’and in
each letter he wrote his child he assured her
that when she next heard from him, ’twould
be to know he wason his road home with a
fortune in his pocket for her to spend 1”

” That letter was never written, of
course?”

“ That letter was written, though!” grave-
ly amended the amateur detective, to the
evident surprise and growing interest of his
auditor, who now began to scent something
more interesting than the bare sinking out of
sight of a luckless prospector.

“ When, and where was it written?”

“ In camp, but the envelope bore the Lead-
ville postmark, dated not much more than
one year ago.“

“And Barbour never followed that l"ter
borne?"

Ten-Strike Tom shook his head, negative-
ly. The chief of police shook his shapely
shoulders, flinging forth a hand as he said:

“While hardly as tough as it was in the
early ’80‘s, Leadville is just a trifle lower
than the angels, even today, Gayworthy.
And one man, especially if he carries any
great amount of rocks with him, can disap-
pear without making a very wide ripple on a
tide like that!”

“But—did Anson Barbour get as far as
Leadville, chief?" slowly, meanineg spoke
the King-Pin Sport.

“What do you mean, Gayworthy?”

Ten-Strike Tom answered this sharp query
by telling of the rudely-traced lines above
the signature of II. K. Jones. explaining the
ordinary mishap which had befallen the
writer of the letter proper.

“lie said that he had found Anson Bar-
bour, and had taken him in to care for until
he should be able to resume his journey.
Now—did he really ‘ take him in,’ and actu-
ally ‘do for him?‘ That’s the question which
I‘ve never been able to fully satisfy my mind
about, chief!"

“Barbour spoke of having made his fortune,
you sa ‘1 Did he mention the amount of
wealth e carried with him?”

“Only that he was fetching back ample
proofs of his good luck.”

“That good luck, doubtless, turned into
bad. luck, I reckon. You can take your
chmce between the two horns, Gnyworthy;
Either that good Samaritan got away with
both man and boodle, or Barbour ran against
a snag there in Leadville. Either would ac-
count for his long silence, but-well, hardly
such a solution as the young lady would
welcome. eh?"

:l‘enStrike Tom slowly shook his head.
His own feelings were far too deeply engaged

\

 

in this enigma for him to even countenance
a grim jest at the expense of either father or
daughter, by so much as a smile.

“I‘m afraid Barbour has been murdered,
for a fact, but that doesn't let me off my bar-
gain; he must be found, dead, if no longer
living!”

“And you want my help to find him,-of’
courSe?”

“ If you can afford to lend it, 384, chief.
But there’s something else I wanted to con-
Stilt you about before taking any positive
steps.

“I was at Leadville, looking around in
hopes of striking sign of some sort, when
something happened which made me take
horse and cover the trail to Denver as quickly
as pos<ible.

“ I went directly to the place where Miss
Barbour boarded, and found that she had.
gone away, last evening, without leaving.
word or direction behind her!”

A faint smile crept into that face as the!
chief of police noted the strong excitement
which the handsome Sport was trying to
keep under cover, and he quietly asked:

“Was the young lady alone, or did she.
have company when she took her departure,
Gayworthy ‘t” .

A hot flush leaped into Tom’s face, but he-
spoke quietly enough:

“It’s about that company I want to ask
you, sir. What do you know of. a young
man called Wallace Gilmore, chief?’

That half quizzical smile faded away, now,
and the official said:

“ Why do you ask me, Gayworthy? What
do you know of him, first ‘i"

“Nothing more than that he hears the
reputation in Denver of being an all-'round
sport, concerning whom there are. afloat sun-
dry rumors marking him as abad egg. 1
never had any close relations with him,
partly because e never ran up against me
when I was playing on the loose, but even
more because I took a strong dislike to the
fellow at first sight.

“ I'm talking frankly, sir, and for reasons
which I believe are good and sufficient, I
trust that you will be equally candid.”

“ Well, Gayworthy, while I can't say that
I know of any actually dirty or Crooked
work on his part, I’m free to admit that we
of the force have been keeping an eye out
for Mr Wallace Gilmore. And, to speak
very mildly, he isn’t just the man I‘d select.
as a fit or safe escort for a young lady.”

There was silence after this for a few mo~
ments, during which the King-Pin Sport;
seemed inwardly debating his next words,
but when he did speak, ’twas to correctly re-
peat what Officer Williamson told him.

Although it was but a poor clue to work
upon, lacking name of driver or number of
the hack, the chief of police promised to set
his men at work on the case without further
waste of time.

Then T en-Strike Tom spoke of the killing
of Corse Payson, in the Good Luck Saloon,
at Leadville, explaining that he had been
identified as the son of‘ Widow Payson, land-
lady of the house where Fanny Barbour had
a room.

“Jason Dogood will no doubt send her
word, and probably fetch the remains here
for burial. You can do as you think best.
about notifying the mother, chief. And
now—what can you tell me about H. K.
Jones?”

“Not a word, if you mean the man who
added that postscript to the letter written by
Anson Barbour. Couldn't you find out any-
thing about him at Leadville?”

The ghost ofa smile flitted across the face
of the other at this innocent query, for there
came to him the memory of those “ Siamese
Twins” who had so loudly laid individual
claim to that title; but the story was too
long to tell just then, so he shook his head
in negation, and let that point pass them by.

After afew further remarks, none of which
call for a record here, Ten Strike 'l‘om left
his address where word might be sent him in
case anything of importance should turn up
concerning the now missing daughter. or the
long missing father, promising to drop
around in person should he glean any further
tidings, then took his departure.

Although he had not actually expected
anything better before making that call,
GayWorthy felt gloomy and downhearted
when he, left the office of the chief of police,

19

'H

 

 

., -4. .«As .

 

    

 

 

 

2‘5

The King-Pin Sport.

 

 

 

 

and he moved along the pave with a slug-
gishness very rare in one of his natural dis~
position.

This queer vanishmcnt of Fanny Bar-
bour affected him far more deeply than
he would have believed possible, only
a few hours earlier. Then he had felt
a strong interest in her welfare, as a
matter of course, for was she not the very
dear friend of his very dear sister? And—
well, in employing him to find her father,
she of course included the care of herself, to
a certain extent.

But now?

\Vhy was he experiencing such a strange
and unusual dread? Why was he feeling
such a hot, fierce, vindictive hatred for
Wallace Gilmore?

Something of the actual truth came to his
mind, just then, but Ten Strike Tom unpa-
tiently strove to banish it. In love? With
the woman he had seen only halfadozen
times, and with whom he had only spoken

, of business?

‘4‘

.owner that no bones

Again the King-Pin Sport tossed his head,
much as a restive horse chafes against a gall
ing bit, and by so doing he probably saved
his life.

For, just then, a silent-footed shape stole
out of the alley-mouth Gayworthy was pass
ing, and dealt a vicious blow with a piece of
lead-pipe, striking to stun or to slay, but
that head-toss partly foiled the thug!

u—n—

CHAPTER XIX.
TEN-STRIKE TOM'S mom‘ FOR LIFE.

ONLY for that involuntary head-toss, the
King-Pin Sport would have gone down in
insensibilityif not in death, for his as yet
unseen assailant struck to kill.

As it was, the length of heavy lead pipe
dealt a glancing blow, cutting through (ia '-
worthy’s stiff hat almost as a knife would
have done, glancing from the side of his
head and expending its vicious force on his
shoulder.

The shock staggered him, and for the time-
being fairly paralyzed his arm; but Ten-
strike Tom kept his feet as he swung dizzily
around, his uninjured arm lifting as a guard
against other blows.

One was coming, but he who wielded that
ugly weapon seemed thrown ofl’ his balance

by the partial failure of what he counted as a '

sure “settler,” and partly crippled though
he then felt himself, Gayworthy was yet able
to save himself by combined warding and
dodging.

“You devil!” he gasped, fiercely. “What
do on mean by—”

is fingers closed on an end of the lead-
pipe as he spoke, and he gave it a desperate
wrench, just as the thug strove to free his
weapon after that same fashion.

The double jerk brought them closer to-
gether, and as be yet had no use of his right
arm, the Sport lowered his heada bit and
dashed it with vicious power fairly into his
enemy’s face.

A muffled howl of savage rage and pain,
then- the pipe was lost to them both, flying
off into the shadows where nothing less
than a. groping search could have recovered
it

The thug recoiled, partly from that head-
thrust, partly in order to better his own
case, and Ten‘Strike Tom caught the brief

limmcr of polished steel reflecting the rays

mm the nearest gas-lamp.

“ Down him!"came in a snarling cry from
the thug, as he crouched to make his own
leap. “ Slug him, boys! Don't let— Now
you have got him!”

TenStrike Tom did not stop to learn
Whether or no these vicious cries meant
anything more tangible than a ruse to throw
him more fully off his guard, but seeing
only that dastardly knave in front, he
plunged forward, the hot fire of battle
scorching through his veins.

The thug gave a striking thrust at that
coming figure, but Ten-Strike Tom shot his
left hand in from the side, his fingers closing
in a deathlike grip on that bony wrist, forc-

ing the knife hand aside and letting their

own bodies come sharply together.

He tried to strike with his usuall good
right hand, but that blow had wofu ly cur
tailed its powers, and the effort did not
amount to much beyond proving to its

ad been broken, and

. q 7 r h ___——___—
that if he could hold his own for a very few I ’twas purely an accidental shot, he could
'minutes, he would have the use of both ; never decide.

hands and arms.

He struck sharply with too, then with
heel, catching a lock with the latter which
staggered the assassin, and in breaking
away from which he lost his second weapon,
the knife whirling through the air to fall
with a sharp clink and clatter on the stones
paving the middle of the street.

“You cussed—I'll blow ye through like

’

IIc snatched forth a pistol as he. made the
savage threat, but once more the undaunted
Sport came to a close, grappling with and

iving his adversary the heel, this time with

ar better effect.

Grappling and fighting like wild beasts,
the two men fell to the pavement, then
1 rolled over and over until they fell into the
gutter, still struggling desperately, the one
to kill, the other to ballle.

Once more that quick, sure left hand had
caught the thug where he most needed full
liberty, and for a few seconds the two men
fought hardly for that weapon. Then—the
pistol exploded as they wrestled, and a
hoarse, mad cry broke from one of the two
men!

Not from the lips of Ten Strike Tom,
though, for he broke away from his enemy,
scrambling to his feet and recoiling a little
as he reached for one of his hidden guns,
feeling that further forbearance would be a
crime against himself.

But the thug lay there in the gutter,
groaning and cursing, making no effort to
arise or to renew that death assault!

From no great distance came the sharp
rap rap rap of a locust against the curbstone,
and knowing by this that the shot had been
heard by the police, Gayworthy crooked a
finger between his lips and blew a. shrill, far-
reaching blast.

The head of the thug lifted at this whistle,
and instantly covering it with his pistol. Ten
Strike Tom sternly cried out.

“Steady. you whelp! Lie quiet, or I’ll
Eill you full of holes as a colander! Steady,

sa !”

TIiat head sunk down, striking the stones
with an audible thump, and the fellow lay
without motion, like one either dead or
too badly injured to help himself further.

The signal given by the policeman was al
most instantly answered by another rap in
the opposite direction, and with very little
more delay a uniformed figure was sighted
by the King I‘in Sport, headed his way.

“Right here, officer!" he called out. still
on his guard, though the thug lying in the
kennel seemed past giving further-trouble,
and he failed to see or hear aught of the real
or imaginary “ boys” that villain had called
out to. “This way, and —” '

"None of your foolishin‘, now!" sternly
called back the patrolman, in warning. “ I
see you, and I‘ll club your head until—"

“ Flag of trucc,‘bolh of you, gentlemen!"
cried Gayworthy, as he saw the second ofli
cer hurrying toward that center. “ All I
want is for you to take charge of this devil
in the gutter IIe slugng me, but I reckon
he’s got a little the worst of it in the end!"

“ Wait until we see who—’

“ Put on our specs, then, Peterby," cut
in the Sport as he recognized the second ofli’
cer, who had just spoken. “ Don’t you know
me, man?"

“ Ten-Strike Tomi”

" What’s left of him—yes! Now—mind
the cur's teethl He's been gnashing them
mighty lively for a few minutes past!”

Thou 11 well meant, that warning proved
to be “'EIiolly superfluous, for whatever his
disposition might have been a short time be
fore, the fight was all taken out of the thug,
now.

His body was limp, his limbs all unstrung,
and he only gave a low, choking groan of
pain and misery as the policeman took hold
of his person to ascertain just what ailed
him.

“ You bored him mighty near the center,
Gayworthy!" ejaculated Peterby, as he saw
from whence al that hot blood Was coming.

Ten-Strike Tom hastily explained how that
shot had taken cfiect, and rightly declaring
that his fingers had none of them touched the
trigger; the weapon had exploded during the
desperate struggle, but whether while the
thug was trying to shoot him, or whether

 

 

One point was sufficiently clear: the fellow
was badly injured, and unless assistance was
lent him right speedily, stood a more than
even chance of bleeding to death.

()n this decision being arrived at, one of
the policemen, with Ten-Strike Tom as as-

lsistant, strove to stanch that flow of blood

I

 

with temporary bandages, while the other
ofliccr sent in a call for the patrolwagon and
a surgeon.

The two men had hardly put into use an
improvised but fairly effective compress,
when an ambulance came dashing up to the
spot, and a police surgeon leaped out almost
before those bright wheels had ceased to re-
vo ve.

IIe bent over the feebly-moaning wretch,
and as a result of that preliminary inspection,
declared that the wounded man had best be
taken at once to the station, where he Could
be more conveniently attended to,

“You think he’ll stand the ride, doctor?”
asked Gayworthy, making a wry grimace as
one of the policemen bumped up against hil
bruised right shoulder.

“Thanks to your care, yes, sir,”with a
swift glance, then an approving nod. “If
you hadn’t stopped the flow of blood so neat-
ly, though, it might be a more difficult ques-
tion to answer"

While the injured knave was being placed
upon a stretcher and then picked up to be
slid into the ambulance. Ten-Strike Tom and
the patrolmen looked for and secured the
various weapons made use of by the thug in
his desperate assault upon the King-Pin
Sport

“ He must have had it in for you terrible
strong, sir!" commented Peterby, as Gay-
worthy asked him to take a good look at the
revolver out of which that bullet had been
sped.

“Just to make sure, you know,” he added,
by way of explanation “ Not that I reckon
the fellow will ever sue me for damages, but
~well, one hardly likes to be credited with
killing a. fellow when that follow did the
nasty work his own self, you see!”

The ambulance drove off at a quieter
pace, bearing the wounded assassin, Willi the
surgeon in charge; but ’I‘cn Strike Tom pre
ferred to walk, especially as ()flicer I’ctcrby
volunteered to hear him company, leaving
his mate to hold their heat while he made
the report for them both.

By the time they reached the Central Sta-
tion, whither the wounded thug had been
taken, Ten Strike Tom had very nearly re-
covered the full use of his right arm,
although a painful bruise was on his shoul‘
der, and a far from delightful contusion on
the right side of his head remained to recall
his perilously narrow escape from instant
death.

Plenty of practice enables a man to do re-
markably rapid work, and by the time Gay-
worthy reached the station, Police-Surgeon
Ingleby had cared for the latest patient,
"doing him up” in true professional style,
and was ready to deliver his opinion as to
the merits of the case when that query was
put to him.

“He is badiyinjured. The ball passed
directly throuin his body, cutting one of his
lungs as it passed. I found the lead lying
just under the skin, and cut it out.”

The missile showed in the center of his
palm as he spoke. Gayworthy looked at it,
with a certain degree of curiosity, for he
knew that same bullet had been intended for
his own heart!

The missile was not much battered, and
still retained the marks left upon it as the
exploding powder forced it through the
rifled tube. ,

“ There‘s a show for his plilllng through,
then i”

H A Show, yes, With a hole clear through,
there is so much less danger of blood-poison-
in getting in, you understand ‘?”

hen Ten-Strike Tom asked if he might
be allowed to view the wounded man the
surgeon hesitated, but, at a nod from the
chief of police, gave his consent.

The injured thug was lying on a cot, seem-
ingly in astupor of exhaustion, his coarse.
pimplcd face showing unnaturally pale un-
der the gaslight.

“Has anybody recognized him as yet?"
Softly asked Gayworthy, after a brief pause,

 

 

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am -.-..‘ r r :1.i "r. figfiW‘T‘f ;'

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rig-Pin Sport.

1’19". 'x-' r: 2

l . -
during which his keen eyes vainly strove to tioner in this case,“ coldly cut in the sur-  “This year back—mebbe a bit longer,
identify the being who had so desperately geon. ‘ though. I’m notsomi hty sure, fer— Durn

 

 

or-

 

striven to scnd him over the Dark River.

The chief of police bowed assent, speaking
in louder tones:

“Yes. I know him for asort of hobo, or
bummer.
by, I believe.”

At mention of that name the tramp gave a
slight start, then lifted his heavy lids, star-
ing halfdazedly around upon those figures.

1 loving a little more in front of those eyes.
Ten-Strike Tom spoke to the injured man,
sounding each syllable with especial dis-
tinetncss:

“Look at me, Dobson. Why did you
try so mighty hard to wipe me out to-
night?”

CHAPTER XX.
WINNING A PARTIAL (IONFESSION.

THOSE lids lifted further from those dull,
nearly glazed eyes, and the baffled thug
gave a barely perceptible start as he appeared
to recognize that voice or that face, one or
both.

“Why did you jump me in the dark,
Jake Dobson?” added Gayworthy, varying
his question slightly. “What harm had I
ever done to you?”

Those lids quivered, then partly closed,
while the wounded thug gave a low, muffled
groan, then huskily uttered'

“I was paid to do you up—paid to do
you—an’ now—whar be I. my own self?"

His head rolled restless! y to the other side,
one hand partly lifted, half forming a fist,
while he groaned again; but there was a
sound almost like a vicious curse in that
groan, now!

Ten-Strike Tom looked toward the sur-
geon as if to ask whether he might press his
point further, just then, but before per-
mission or denial could come, the wounded
wretch spoke again, in stronger tones than

' before, although seemingly talking more to

himself than to any of those by whom his
cot-bed was surrounded.

“ Cuss him—double-times-over cuss him!
Ef he hedn’t egged me on so mighty hot, I
wouldn’t—won n’t be like this yer'! Cuss
him! Ef he was only in the same p‘izen fix
—ef he on’y was, now !”

“Who egged you on, Dobson?’ sharply
asked Gayworthy, divining that right now
was his opportunity, if at all.

The thug looked up into his face for a few
seconds, then lowered lids again, but mut-
terin the words:

“ e did—Jones—H. K. Jones paid me!"

That effort seemingly exhausted the
tramp, for he sunk back on his cot, that
hurried breathing suddenly lessening in
force and quickness, and he seemed to be
driftin ofi in a stupor.

Ten- trike Tom looked at the face of the
surgeon, who instantly shook his head,
negativing that request even before Gay-
worthy could put it into words.

The King-Pin Sport took one of Ingleby’s
arms, and nodded for the chief of ohce to
hear them company, then drew as dc from
that cot, speaking in low but intensely
earnest tones.

“ You heard what he said, gentlemen, of
course. And you, chief, know what peculiar
interest I feel in this H. K. Jones, as well as

how much of importance I attach to locating ;

him ast all doubt.”

“ at if Dobson isn’t able to answer your
questions, Gayworthy 7”

“He is not in fit condition to be ques-
tioned further, gentlemen," ositively assert.
ed the police-Surgeon. ” cu can see that
much for ourselves, surely t”

‘ He ta ked readily enough, just now!”

“And might do so again, if thorough!
aroused. But, all the same, gentlemen,

rotest a ainst any such 'eXpertments.

hey Wou d surely be at the risk of his life.”

Thomas Gaywortliy made a passionate;
gesture at these words, then his strong

feelings got the upper hand of him for the
minute. .

“What is his life worth in comparison
with that of Miss Barbour and her father?
He is a low-down, worthless thug! The
world would bejust so much better off With-
out him. and—’

“Granting all that, sir, I hardly know how
I am called “POD to act as assistant execu-

 .. .-.  ram  v; 
‘._ ..nhrg~,' ‘xi-‘iw  "K . v m .. t,“ .- - A"

Jake Dobson is the name he goes ,

! Ten-Strike Tom turned more directly to
the chief of police, adding:

1 “You know better how much there is at
j stake, sir! Think how Anson Barbour was
’ last heard from while in the keeping of this
l 11. K. Jones. And if he hired this knave to
i kill me, what were his reasons? Because I
 have set out to find Barbour, living or dead?
| Became I am the active agent employed by
Miss Barbour, whose strange disappearance I
am now trying to fathom?”

“ Dobson may have been lying,
worthy.”

“Why would he lie? Did he look like
one lying? Did his voice sound as though
he was hatching up a lie? And—why pitch
upon that precise name, unless he was speak-
ing solid truth?"

“Your posters, and advertisements have
made that name familiar enough, surely!”
withatouch of grim sarcasm entering his
voice.

There was a brief pause, then Ten-Strike
Tom came again:

“That fellow tried his level best to kill
me, gentlemen. Ifoiled his first effort, and
could have shot him through heart or through
brain before he made another move; but I
refrained, although I had but a single arm
left me for me, and knew that I was fighting
against bloody death!

“ Why didn’t I shoot him down, as I would
have been fully justified in doing? Simply
because I determined to take him alive, to
learn from his lips why he was so hot for my
life!

“B his own weapon he was hurt, but
does t at fact lessen my claim u on the life
I spared? No, entlemeni An now I say
—even if, it en s in his death: even if by
questioning him in hopes of serving or sav-
ing a lady, I shorten his lease of life—give
me leave to coax or frighten a full confession
from those lips!”

The chief of police was evidently im ressed
by that passionate outburst, and 100 ed in-
quirineg at the surgeon.

Ingleby shook his head gravely, then slow-
ly spoke:

“I do not say that such questioning will
kill, or even shorten his term of life; but I
do say that it will be running longer risks
than 1 care to voluntarily assume."

“What matter if it does kill him, just so
he speaks first? ’ passionawa cried the King-
Pin Sport. ” What is his miserable existence
in comparison with her—with their good?
Not worth thinking of twice!

“Give him something to brace him up,
Ingleby. Make him capable of talking, and
if harm follows, I'll cheerfully bear all the
blame!”

Won over at length, the chief of police
nodded to the surgeon, ,who raised no fur-
ther objections, but returned to his patient.

A few minutes later he cold! reported
that Dobson was awake, and as t for talk-
ing as he would be for a week, at least.

Warmly thanking the man of medicine,
Thomas Gayworthy went to the cot-side,
sittingdown where Jake Dobson could see
him Without an extra exertion, then began
talking in low ut distinct and even sooth-
ing tones.

At first be avoided any question which he
thought might serve to irritate or to excite
the wounded thug unduly; but as he saw
how much better the fellow was bearing up
under that strain than he had dared hope for,
Ten-Strike Tom veered around to the more
im rtant subject.

is questions were shrewdly put, and Jake
Dobson showed little hesitation about answer-
ing them, save when they more directly con-
cerned that human enigma, II. K. Jones.

Dobson told how he had been utilized by
one who came to him from “the boss,” as
he termed that mystic H. K. Jones. He made
afull confession so faras the decoying of
FanPY Barbour was concerned, frankly ad-
mitting that he drove the hack which Bas-
com Hooper provided for that capecial pur-
pose'Y d'd u' d

“ on 1 us an er orders from
boss, you say, Dobson? And that b05333:
the man called H. K. Jones?”

' "Yes. Ef that hain’t his right name I’ll

never tell ye what it is, nyther!" ,

“How long have you known
Jones?”

Gay-

 

this

 

 

them bumble—bees!
from, boss?”

He made a feverish stir, and his lids
drooped a bit more. Evidently that potion
was losing its power, or else his wound was
turning him feverish and weak.

TenStrike Tom hurried his questions now,

V bar is they swarmin’

‘ fearing lest his main hopes meet with disap—

pointment after all. For, as a matter of
course, Surgeon lngleby would refuse to ad-
minister another draught.

But all seemed of little use, so far as try-
ing to individualizc 11. K. Jones was con-
cerned.

Dobson swore that he had never laid eyes
upon the boss; had never even secured so
much as a passing glimpse of his face or his
figure.

All he knew, and pretty much all he cared
for, was that Jones paid his hirelings liberal
wages, and never failed to liquidate all
claims as soon as they were due or presented
in writing.

More than once Ten-Strike Tom felt fairly
well assured that Dobson was lying to him
on this score, but he tried in vain to trap the
fellow; and at length, noting with alarm that
growing sleepiness,or that on-coming stupor,
he turned his questions more closely toward
Fanny Barbour and her abduction.

But, to all seeming, he had dwelt a little
too long on that other sub'ect, for, while
Dobson talked freely enou g , there was a
lack of coherency in his sentences, sometimes
in his words formingthose sentences.

He spoke something about Wallace Gil-
more, and then talked a bit of a fight where
some person was shot. He mingled this
with mutterin gs about his restive team, about
running away and being caught, mixin all
up in such a jumble that Ten-Strike om
vainly tried to make out whether the horses
had run away, or whether Dobson was talk-
ing of Gilmore tr ing to escape the snare
which closed upon any Barbour by taking
to flight.

Tiring of that phase of his half-dreams,
Jake Dobson spoke of outrages and of crim-
inal deeds which could hardly have borne
any connection with the Barbour case, and it
was with increasing difficulty that Ga worthy
choked him off that ancient scent a shifted
him once more to the trail in which he felt.
such a burning interest.

There was a gleam of vitality during which
Dobson declared that the girl was being con-
ducted to her father, who had to lie under
00ver through fear of the law-hounds; an as-
sertion which caused the chief and the sur-
geon to interchange covert glances, and
which brought an an ry glow to the dark
eyes of the ing-Pin port. V

He felt fully assured that so much was a
lie. at least, and he began seriously to doubt
lwhether he had gathered anything much save
ies!

Still, he persisted as long as he saw a ray of
hope lin ering, and with intervals of stupor,
or sleep ness, which grew more frequent as
time passed on. Jake Dobson answered ques—
tions or maundered drowsily on, now mutter-
ing of the present, now wandering afar in
fields of old.

The surgeon interposed, at length, almost
sternly forbidding any further questionin ,
as his patient had already been seriousfy
overtasked as it was.

. “Drop in tomorrow, and if I think his
Situation justifies such an additional risk, sir,
you may try it on again. But for now—-
enough!"

The change of voices appeared to rouse the
wounded tramp once more,.for he not only
opened his eyes but raised his head a little,
casting a wild, startled look around him.

His gaze lin ered when it came to the face
of the King- in Sport, and after a brief
pause, his coarse features contorted in a low
chuckle.

"That’s my meat! He’s my tarr pin!
Look at him moggin’ ’long like he idn’t
keer a cuss, nur never—now! Dodge down
the corner an' hump yerself through the
alley, fer he’s—stiddy, bo!

“Hyar he comes! Easy~e-a-s-y, Jake!
Don’t make ary—thar’s a cap 0’ dingbats
fer a shore lick like-now!”

He partly raised up on the cot, making "a
fierce stroke, then fa ling with a half-laugh,

? 7. j!" ‘ a

 

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half-groan, as though his evil task was well
done!

“ Thar‘s his karkidge, now fer the boss——
clean to Leadville, whar— Git out! You
hain't ,my boss! You're the—oh! oh! oh!"
with a rurgling scream as his head drooped.
“ The evil’s got—me-foul!”

Then he lay like one overtaken by sudden
leathl

 

CHAPTER XXI.
THE DOVE IN THE VULTURE'B MJs'r.

“ Orr, if I could belieVC you!”

Fanny Barbour made a passionate gesture,
half of anger, half of despair, as that sentence
broke from her lips.

Bascom Hooper gave a grimace in return,
shrugging his shoulders like one who feels it
is hardly worth while to enter into a more
elaborate explanation or defense of his ac-
time.

“You have lied tome most shamefully,
from the very start! You told me father was
—I know you lied, there!”

“ How do do you know it, ma’am ?”

“How do I know it?" echoed the indig-
nant maiden, with another swift gesture.
“How can I help knowing it, rather! ’

“All right, if you’d rather have it like
that, my dear,” said Hooper with another
shrug, turning as though to leave the cabin
and thus cut Short what promised to be
a disagreeable as well as profitless interview.

But, woman-like, Fanny Barbour now
seemed willing to sue for what she had just
scorned, and springing to his side, grasped
his arm with nervous energy, crying in
shaken tones:

‘.‘Oh, sir, I beg of you not to leave me
without—my poor father! Where is he,
now? You said that I sh0uld meet him,

:and now—I implore of you, sir, tell me
how much is truth, how much—a horrible
lie?”

That rude shelter was but poorly pro-
vided with furniture, but Bascom Hooper
took Fanny’s arm and led her to a three-
legged stool, making her sit down thereon,
then drew back a couple of paces before
speaking.

“I told you I'd lead you to your father,
ma’am, and so I have.”

“ Where is he, then?” and Fanny flashed
a look around that none too clean room, into
which she had been brought but a few min-
utes before, out of a much darker and even

= less atgreeable refuge.

not here right now, he soon will be, I
reckon," gruflly anSWered Hooper. “This
is the rendezvous he ave me, and I never
yet knew the boss to nil in keeping an ap-
pointment, whether that was made with
friend or with foeman.”

The maiden gave a slight shudder at this,
though it was his tone and manner, rather
than the words he used, which lent her that
chill.

Somehow Hooper lent the impression that
his employer, or “boss,” was one well out-
side the pale of the law, and though she
ought to have become fairly Well used to
this by now, Fanny never heard him with-
out a sickened shiver or an angry protest.

“You have told me all this so many
times! So often, yet—unless you are still
shamefully deceiving me, why does not my
father come? Why does he leave me here,
helplessly in the power of sneh——”

The maiden broke off abruptly, realizing

I that her passionate tongue was carrying her

past the limit of prudence; but Bascom
Hooper merely showed his teeth in a rin,
clearly caring very little for her gem or
her unfavorable opinion of himself as a.
guardian angel.

“Well. though you do doubt me mighty
strong. ma’am, I reckon you'll find out in
the end that I’m not quite so terrible bad as
I mi ht be.

“is for the boss, your father, that isn't
for me to say, further than I've already
spoken: that it can‘t be much longer until

on can ask him all these questions you’ve
been pelting me with.”

“If he is coming, why are you afraid to
tell—”

“Because it isn’t part of the job let out to
me, ma’am,” cool] cut in Hooper. “Be.
cause was or ered by the boss to
fetch—”

“That title again! Who is your ‘boss,’

as you term it?” sharply demanded the

 

maiden, her temper once again flashing I
forth, hotly. l
But Bascom Hooper paid no heed to that l
interruption, merely waiting until her voice ;
died aWay, then continuing: '
“The boss ordered me to fetch you here, I
using as little force and rough treatment as
possible; but—to fetch you right here! 

” I followed his instructions, and here you ;
are, safe and sound as to body, even though l
your temper may be a little the worse for ;
wear and tear!" l

There was a touch of grim sarcasm in the I
concluding words, but Fanny paid no heed.
Her memory was still too clear for taking 1
note of comparative trifles, and she gave a:
swift shake of the head, at. the same time
shrinking away from that villain with strong ;
aversion. |

“Now I know you are lying, sir! Never 
—I can never believe that my father would ,
countenance, much less order, such a bar-:
barons murder as you committed on— i
poor Mr. Gilmore!" I

Bascom Hooper changed color at that, 2
shifting position like one who feels ill at
case all of a sudden. Still, he was not .
long in finding an anSWer to suit the occa-
sion.

“ You’re both right and wrong as to that
little incident, Miss Barbour, and when your
father comes to give you greeting, I hope
you'll not be too vastly overjoyed to think of
asking him as much.”

“ He would deny giving you any such
commands, sir!”

“If you put the question in just that
shape, ma‘am I dare say he \vould give the
reply you‘re yearning for,” retorted Hooper,
with another of his sardonic grins. “But,
all the same, the boss will uphold me in all
I’ve done—even to the killing of your partic-
ular friend, \Vallace Gilmore!"

“I’ll never believe that of my father, sir!”

“Until you can’t help it, better add, my
dear! For my orders surely covered all that:
covered the killing of a dozen such pu pies
as Wallace Gilmore, should so many idiots
lget in the path chalked out for me to fol-
owl

“The boss sent me to Denver after you,
his daughter. I was to win your en-
tire confidence if I could, and as an aid to
that end, the boss gave me the locket con-
taining the portraits of his dead wife and his
living child: something which had never for
an instant left his neck for years back!

“Does that look as though he had any
lack of faith in me, ma‘am? Does that even
hint that he feared I‘d do anything he could-
n’t and wouldn't back up with his full ap-
proval, even ‘1”

“ But—not foul assassination!"

“You try to think so, ma’am, but down
in your heart you’re beginning to see. the
matter just as it really stands: that in order-
ing me to fetch you here, where he was to
meet his daughter, the boss took all respon-
sibility on his own shoulders.”

“Never that!"

Bascom Hooper gave a short, contemptu-
ous laugh, flinging out a hand with real or
admirably-counterfeited recklessness as he
added:

“All right, and so be it, then! Say that
Iaeted on my own responsibility, so far as
that impudent whelp was concerned: what
of it?”

“ You murdered him!”

“ I put him out of the way—or, at least, I
thought I did i” with an abrupt change mak-
ing itself visiblein both tone and face. “I
had to get shut of him before he could cipher
out just where we were bound for and just
how we expected to get there!

“ He was too big a fool to take a hint, and
too dangerous to kick, soIdid the only thing
left for me to do: dumped him out, and lifted
his roof!”

“ ’Twas a cruel, needless. barbarous deed!”
cried Fanny, shuddering afresh as she seem-
ed to see that helpless form lyin so corpse-
like there upon the sands, under the pale
light of the moon. “And I hope to live
long enough to hear that you have paid the
full penalty due such a foul crime!" -

Bascom Hooper gave a surly, inarticulate
growl at this, yet his u ly mood hardly
seemed a result of that ind gnant attack, but
rather born of doubts which he had been
vainly striving to down, even before Fanny
Barbour made allusion to the subject.

 

 

“I wish l knew——Wish I was half as sure
the devil‘s dead as you appear to be, ma’aml”
he abruptly exploded, making a vicious ges-
turc with tightly clinched hand as he
spoke.

“ I thought I'd made sure work of it, and
Parker reported the fellow too dead for skin-
ning! And yet—Why hasn't Jake Dobson
sent in or brought word, before this?”

Fanny Barbour felt a sharp thrill at this,
and a light leaped into her tear-dimmed eyes
for the moment.

Was there any real foundation for this fear
shadowed forth by Bascom Hooper? Had
Wallace Gilmore actually escaped from what
had looked like certain death?

If the outlaw saw aught of this emotion,
be either misinterpreted its meaning, or else
cared naught for her dawning hopes.

“ I was a fool for not taking the trouble
to examine his carcass my own self, but—-
surely Parker wouldn‘t lie to me? No! He
was dead! Only—that cursed idiot ! It’s
odds Dobson‘s got into trouble over hiding
that carrion l"

Bascom Hooper, looking strangely troubled
for a man of the iron nerve he had displayed
hitherto, stamped his foot and swung his
clinched right hand viciously.

Fanny Barbour shrunk back a little, be-
ginning to fear for herself in case his vicious
rage should turn her way; but then Hooper
suddenly paused, bending his head in acute
listening, as his eyes turned toward the front
of that rude cabin.

Fanny caught no sound which could
account for this change, but the ruflian
sprung agilely to the door, giving one swift
look outside. then, as though he had seen
something to more than justify his fears of
interruption, he turned and with a pantherish
bound reached the side of the startled maiden,
one arm swinging around her waist, his other
hand closing almost savagely over her part-
ing lips, his breath coming hot and foul
against her face as he hoarsely muttered:

' ‘ Not a word—not a whimper, girl! Make
so much as a weenty yelp now, and I'll be
the death 0’ ye!"

. CHAPTER XXII.

A WARNING FROM THE DENVER TRAMP.

COMING from without that mountain
shanty, a sharp whistle blended with the
savage threats so hotly breathed by the ruf-
lian, and frightened though she surely was,
Fanny Barbour realized that this whistle was
a warning meant for Bascom Hooper.

That palm closed more firmly over her
lips, effectually hindering any outcry on
her part, while the power 111 arm about her
waist hurried her nearly off her feet and
across the room to the rear of that cabin.

“ Make a single sound and I swear by all
the fiends of Tophet you shall never lay
eyes on the face of your father again!"
harshly whispered Hooper, as he was
forced to free her lips in order to go fur-
ther.

Stooping, he swiftly lifted a cunningly-
masked trap-door irregularly set in the
rou h flooring, and holding the maiden for
an nstant over the dark cavity thus par-
tially revealed, he hastily added:

“ Goback to your place, girl! I haven’t
time to take you clean there, but you know
the way, an« -—if you stop to listen, girl,
I’ll be the mortal death of you!”

That whistle rung forth again, this time
with impatient sharpness, and like one who
dares not lose further time, Bascom Hooper
suddenly relaxed his grasp upon the maiden,
permitting her to sink through that trap-
hole, then dropped the door over her head.

Fanny dropped only a few feet, and those
were rendered less dangerous by the steep
steps touched by her feet.

She knew just what to expect. for Bascom
Hooper had, only a few minutes earlier,
brought her to the mountain ShaCR by that
very route, then lighting their pages 9 with
a candle, which he did not extinguis until
both had passed upward through that
ingeniously-arran ed trap-door.

Still, frightene by that sudden change in
her chief captOr, and as yet untempted to
disobey his commands, the maiden moved
along the narrow passage-way which had
been dug out of the earth, pausing only when
at the point where that tunnel o ned into a
angst space, likewise the war of human

an s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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"r‘ infi’IJmWH ' ._’. 2. “I 7'

 

 

Her own e es had told her something of
the truth, ant Bascom Hooper had shown no
desire to make any mystery of that part of
the adventure: this was really an old mine,
deserted by its original owners when the
once-promising vein of mineral they were
working suddenly “petered out,” leaving
them with nothing more valuable than blast-
ed hopes and “a hole inthe ground” to show
for all their labor and expense.

Other hands had built that rude cabin,elosc
up against the foot of the hill below the
ledge from whence the original locators had
driven their shaft; and he who built that
refuge, made it doubly secur'e against “ acci-
dents” by contriving amasde tunnel con-
necting cabin with workings.

By means of this secret passage, as Bascom
Hooper took pains to explain. he who owned
that mountain shack might be besieged by
the bloodhounds of the law, but he could
never be captured so long as that “back
door” remained in good working con-
dition.

Something of all this came back to Fanny
Barbour as she reached the secret door which
parted tunnel from shaft, and though her
outstretched hand was fumbling for the fas-
tening, her fingers did not immediately open
the barrier.

Why was Bascom Hooper so earnest in his
warning against her pausing beneath that
trap-door to listen?

He had spoken in seemingly good faith
when he declared that Anson Barbour would
surely come to visit his daughter that very
day. Then—could it be that her father’s
approach had caused this sudden change?

It hardly seemed possible, since Hooper
said he was taking Fanny to the cabin ex-
pressly to meet her long-missing parent;
but the maiden was too sorely shaken in
wits to reason acutely, and only lingering
long enough to open that masked door, so
she would have nothing to check her speedy
retreat in case such a movement should
prove necessary in order to escape discovery

'by those she meant to eavesdrop, the maiden

stole noiselessly back to those dark and
contracted quarters beneath the rude moun-
tain shack.

Even as her groping hands touched those
steep steps, Faun caught the sounds of
earnest voices com ng from the room above
her head, and she knew she was too
late to note that greeting between Bascom
Hooper and whoever it might be whose
visit had caused such commotion. '

Crawlin up those steps, the maiden
paused With one ear nearly touching the
tra door, fairly holding her breath at first
in er eagerness to catch, and, if possible, to
recognize these voices.

She still hoped that one of the speakers
might prove to be her long-missing father,
although his coming there, particularly if
on friendly terms with yonder murderous
villain, would say little for his honor or
manhood.

Without taking in the full sense of the
words spoken, at first, Fanny strove solely
to distinguish the tones, feeling SUl‘Cfillat
she would have no difficulty in recogmztng
the voice of her parent, evon though more
than half-a-dozen years had elapsed since
she last heard Anson Barbour talk!

One of the two speakers was plainly
enough Bascom Hooper. but the other was
not—surely that voice belonged to an utter
stranger?

Her heart fell as Fanny was forced to
reach this decision, and with her hopes ban-
ished, she might have stolen away from that
trap-door wrthout gleaning aught of actual

I inft'fl‘lllflllfrll. had not the strange voice dis-

fimmy pronounced a familiar name; that of
Wallace Gilmore!

Closely following the name came a sharp,
savage oath from the lips 0f 1321300111 Hooper,
then his words: I , '

“A licl An infernal he, I say! Didn t I
see where my lead—” ,

“May have creased, but certainly f ailed .to
bore!” coollyxcut in he of the unrecogniz-
able voice.

” I know better, though! I blew daylight
clean through his shallow pate! I saw Where
-—-and Parker! Didn’t he, look. to swear there
was a hole through his akun big enough to
ram my fist through 1”

Bascom Hooper 8D0ke like one determined
not to believe himself innocent of actual

'1' " "Fires?" ‘3 " ‘ oar":

 

I murder, but his visitor proved just as per-
l sistent on the other side.

“Parker saw with his elbows, Hooper,
. or else—would he lie to you on purpose,
5 think?”
“ Parker?
3 lit to me?”

“ That’s what I was asking you, pardner.”

“ No reason at all, and that’s why I say it
again: Wallace Gilmore was laid out too
cold for skinning!” -

“ So you believed, Hooper, but, all the
same, the whole kit of you were fooled, and
mighty badly fooled at that!”

“I just can't make it come that way,
pardnerl"

“ You’ve got to, thou h, Baseom,” per-
sisted the messenger. “ allace\Gilmore is
not only alive, but he is—”

“ Easy, mate!” once more cut in the chief-
er knavc. “What was Jake Dobson doing
all this time? Didn’t I tell him to plant the
carcass where it would be safe from dis-
covery?”

“I reckon you did, pardner, although I
wasn’t there, so have to take your word for
it. Still—"

“\Vas Jake selling me out too, then? Is
that what you mean?"

“ Don‘t think it, Hooper!" hastily cried
= the other rascal, while the listening maiden
shrunk back a bit, so viciously wicked was
the tone assumed by yonder evil Villain.

The man named gave vent to a curse of
angry impatience, then said:

“ What else can I think, then? I must
have been mistaken as to my shot, though
I'd willingly have made oath my lead bored
his skull through and through! Parker must
have lied to me when he swore I‘d Opened a
tunnel through that feel cabeza! And now
——-Jake Dobson sells me out!”

“In place of selling you out, Hooper, it’s
Jake Dobsonwho sent me here, fast as horse-
flesh and human endurance could cover the
trail between Denver and Leadville, with the
warning you refuse to credit. I’ve delivered
my message, and now—so-long!”

There came to Fanny’s ears the sound of
turning steps, as though the messenger was
about to take his departure, irritated at re-
ceiving naught better than curses and unbe-
lief as reward for his long, rough and weari-
some jaunt.

“ Whoa-ap, old hossl” sharply exclaimed
Bascom Hooper, his footfalls te ling Fann
how he sprung forward to arrest that often -
ed partner in evil with hand as well as with
voice. “Don’t kick over the traces all at
once, now! Give a fellow time to— Dob-
son sent you, you say ?”

“ Of course he sent me,” with lingering
resentment perceptible in his sulky tones.
“ Pure love wouldn’t bring me, d’you reckon,
Hoo er?”

“ ot while you look and talk like that,
pardner,” grimly retorted his host with more
placable tones. “Cool down a bit, and when
you quit sweating under the collar—”

“ Vigasn't it enough to make a fellow sweat
 I)

“Call it so if you like, and consider my
apology made in due form. Now—how
about this Wallace Gilmore, cully i"

“ \Vell, Dobson looked me up in a terrible
sweat, and bade me get ready for a hot chase
against time while he posted me as to what
had turned cross-ways. Then he explained
how it all came about.

“ He said that, just. as you ordered, he
drove off with Gilmore inside his hearse, go-
ing to a spot he had picked out in his mind
as the best and easiest. place for an amateur
sexton to plant his game.” .

“Hurry it up a bit, can‘t you?” growling-
ly asked Hooper.

“Ain’t I? Well, Jake swore he dumped
the carcass into the ditch, and covered it
well over with sticks and brush, Weighted
down with a few big dornicks to make all
more bindin ; then—”

“Why di n't the infernal idiot finish the
planting off-hand?” viciously growled the
othef3 knavc. .

“ ecause his team was mi ht un '
and because there was nothing gneayr at Iliad
to cover the rig from sight in case any per.
Son should be out on a moonlight tramp in
that direction. See ?”

” Go onl” _

“ Well, there isn’t so mighty much more
to tell. Dobson drove back to town and got

No! Why should he want to

 

 

 

shut of his team, then looked up tools for
making a regular planting of the corpus,
hurrying back yonder to get it all over with
before daylight came to show what sort of
trick he was turning. ’

“Only to discover that some one had
found the body?”

“Either that, or else Gilmore had come to
life and crawled out of what was fully
meant to be his final resting-place,” said the
messenger from Denver. “That scared
Dobson mighty nigh out of his rags, but he
had to make the best of it, and, looking me
up, sent a word of warning here to you,
post haste.”

“ Why didn’t Jake come’ himself?”

“Well, maybe ’twas partly because he
didn‘t care to face your guns until you’d
time to blow off some of your steam, but he
gave a braver reason than that: he wanted
to guard against Gilmore’s making any more
trouble at that end of the line, and swore
that if the Sport should turn up there, he‘d
fit him for a wooden overcoat though he
had to wear a hempen collar himself as
penalty !”

“ Talk’s mighty cheap!"

“I know it, but Dobson seemed in dead
earnest, for once. Still, he seemed to think
that Gilmore would be more apt to hurry off
this way, to look after the young lady.”

“If he tries that on, I’ll make a surer job
of it this time!” declared Bascom Hooper,
with a savage oath.

A low sound, as of a smothered chuckle,
startled Fanny just then.

CHAPTER XXIII.
as Thoron man FROM THE DEAD.

THAT sound seemed to come from close
behind her, and it was with the greatest dif-
ficulty that the maiden smothered a cry of
terror, which must surely have brought yon-
der rufflans that way in hot haste to discover
who was playing eavesdropper.

Her first, and most natural, thought was
that one of the lawless gan who seemed to
regard Bascom Hooper as a eader had stolen
in upon her from the abandoned workings.
and that chuckle was but preliminary to
the clutch which would close upon her per-
son.

Although she strove so hard to smother all
sound, Fanny made noise enough to reach
the ears of him who laughed, for there came
a hasty whisper in warning from the utter
darkness close behind her perch:

“Silence, Miss Fanny! It’s sure death if
you betray my presence to those villains!

’m Wallace Gilmore!”

Guarded though that whisper was of stern
necessity, the voice was recognized by the
maiden even before that name was pro-
nounced, and the double shock was so great
she would have fallen from those steep steps
and almost certainly made noise enough to
alarm the enemy, only for the friendly hand
and arm that came to her support there in
the darkness

“I have found you—thank Heaven for
that!"

Subdued as to volume, but “holly un-
limited as to ardent meaning, the young
man spoke thus as he held that trembling
form closely to his breast, turning away
from the steps from which Fanny Barbour
had first learned of his escape from death.

His warm breath fanned her cheek, and
then—was it wholly through accident?

Fanny gave a low, gasping breath as those
mustache lips touched hers, and with a sud-
den efiort, slipped far enough from his em-
brace to touch the ground with her feet.

“ I must—you should not—”

“ ’Sh-h-h l” Gilmore breathed in swift warn-
in g as other sounds came to their cars from
the cabin above. " If those .villains should
take the alarm too soon, I'd be powerless to
save you from their evil clutches!

“ Do you wish to hear more, or shall I lead
you back to where we can talk with less fear
of being overheard?” ‘

“ I don’t—it really is you, Mr. Gilmore?”
falterineg murmured the bewildered maiden,
hardly able to put confidence in the evidence
of her own senses, as yet.

“Does my voice sound so strangenthen,
here in the dark? Shall I run the risk of
striking a match—why.not?” with a trace of
recklessness coming into that voice. " Even
should the espy—'

“No—o . no!”

 

 

 

24

The King-Pin Sport.

 

 

“Your Wish is my law, Miss Fanny. Shall
we go back? One word from your lips will
mark out my course, remember.”

Rallying a little from the surprise of meet-
ing the man whom she so surely believed she
had seen brutally murdeer that moonlit
night just outside of Denver, and beginning
to realize not only the deadly peril which
W'allace Gilmore Would have to encounter in
case discovery came while. they were in those
contracted quarters, but how vastly this
friendly presence improved her own chances
of escape, Fanny moved away from the spot
where she had been listening to those knaves,
softly saying:

“We will go—back this way! Carefully!
If they should hear us now! Better take my
hand, sir, until—”

As though there were eyes at his finger
tips, Wallace Gilmore found that hand and
clasped it warmly. He even took the lead in
that utter darkness, just as though he was
familiar with what lay before them!

Some such thought occurred to Fanny
Barbour, but she did not bring it forth, just
then. She had been inspired with a dread of
yonder lawless knaVe, as strong as it was of
sudden birth.

Not until they safely passed by the masked
door which concealed the tunnel cadin from
cabin to workings of the old mine, did anny
draw a full, free breath.

“Thank Heaven! those villains did not——
what are you doing, sir?"

Half-scared was that query, for her present
companion had drawn a match briskly across
the rough face of a stone forming part of that
irregular wall, the faint crackle sounding
dangerously loud, the bluish Spark seeming
peri ously brilliant just then.

“ Tryin to exorcise the ghost of your
lingerin oubts, Miss Barbour,” lightly an-
swered ilmore, holding the tin torch where
its light most perfectly revealet his features,
smilin genially the while. “ Now—am I
mysel , or am I some rank impostor, dear
friend?”

Fanny gazed eagerly into the handsome
face thus revealed, her pulse beating swiftly,
her heart givin an unusual leap as she took
note of the whfie bandage which could not
be entirely concealed by the soft hat the ad-
venturer now wore.

“ Hardly improves my beauty—ahem!”
Gilmorew ispered as the match burned down
to his fin ers and was cast aside. “But if a
scar shou d remain, I’ll never try to mask it,
for—’twas given me while I was honestly
striving to serve you, Fanny!”

There was no trace of jesting in his tones,
then. Instead, he seemed so intensely in
earnest that the maiden shrunk away, half-
frightened, and powerless to make answer
for the time being.

A brief silence, then Wallace Gilmore
spoke again, in more ordinary tones;

“ You heard those rascals discussing my
escape, Miss Barbour, for I caught something
of their chatter myself, though I was further
away from the sounding-board than you
were.”

“Yes, I heard, but I could hardly be-
lieve!” murmured Fanny, still feeling strange-
] shy of the man who seemed bent on again
devoting his life to her service.

" I couldn‘t help laughing in my sleeve
when that scoundrel, Hooper, made is sav-
age threats,” with a low laugh that recalled
the sound by which Fanny Barbour had been
so thoroughly startled. “If he could only
have seen who was listening to those
threats!”

“ He would murder you—just as he tried
to kill you that night!”

" Well, he’d doubtless make an efiort that
way, but whether he‘d do the job up any
browner, or whether he wouldn’t go down
himself—that’s the question!"

Those words came lightly enough, but
Fanny gave a shudder as she heard them.
Back of that seeming carelessness lay a dead—
ly meaning, too dark for mistaking: if those
two men ever came together again, Fanny,
felt that one or the other must surely
perish! ' .

Althou hthey were a stain utter darkness,
Wallace ilmore seeme able to read faces as
well as tones, and once again he abruptly
changed the subject which, however_ natural
it might he, could hardly add to his good-
standingwtth the maiden. . I

“ Come, Miss Fanny,” he said, in guarded

 

tones, reaching forth and securing her near—
est hand. “ The best is good enough, good-
ness knows, btit you surely would be a bit
more comfortable Were you back in your
old quarters, where—”

“ llow came you here, sir?
you learned so much, unless—”

“ Unless I am playing partners with your
hosts?" he supplemented,with a low, amazed
laugh. “ \Vcll, that‘s part of my story, and
you can listen to that better when furnished
with a fairly comfortable seat.

“ And then,” as though that was a mere
afterthought, “ there will be less risk of our
geod host IIOOper running in on us, pre-
maturely !”

Gilmore led the maiden through the pas-

sage to what had been her quarters ever
since Hooper brought her to that wild. re-
mote region, and when Fann ' was seated in
fair comfort upon a couch o furs and blan-
kets he spoke briskly enough:
W” “ Those fellows hit pretty close to the right
solution of my escape from a premature buri-
al, Miss Fanny. I was merely knocked
senseless by lloopt-r's shot, and was partially
conscious when .lake Dobson dumped me in-
to the ditch for ‘planting.’

“ Still, I wasn‘t in fit condition for making,r
a fight of it, and had he not thought best to
get shut of his ri before regularly burying
me, I hardl thin I’d be here now!

“When 16 was gone, I worked my way
out from under the brush and got back to
town without any difficulty, aside from my
natural dizziness and weakness tlirongh loss
of blood, and because of the blow my brain
had received. '

“I had thoughts only for you, only for
your safety, Miss Fanny, and hardly wait-
in to have my wound ooked after, I took
sa die and started for lieadville, feeling
nearly certain that there, or thereabouts, I
stood the best show of striking the trail of
your abductors.”

“But how—it seems so strange to think
you could find me here!”

“I know, but that’s too long a story to
narrate, just now. Hooper may come back
here at any moment, and— Well, while I’d
ask nothing in life better than a fair chance
to play even with that brute, until I can feel
you are safely out of this—"

“How can that ever be, sir, when those
villains bar the way?"

“ How did I manage to get in here, Miss
Fanny, unseen and unsuspected by yonder
knaves?" asked Gilmore, with a low, amused
chuckle. “And surely where I have gone
once, I can go again—with you as my com-
panion!”

“ You mean to say—” -

“That there is a secret passage leading
into this old mine, through which I mean to

uide you to.freedom once more, Miss Bar-
our! And now I must say why—”

He broke off abruptly, ike one who has
heard sounds of approaching danger, and
after a brief silence, he swiftly whispered:

“Somebody’s coming this way, dearest!
Try to mask your feelings until——- Have
courage! Keep a stout heart, and I’ll save
you from those scoundrels though it costs
me m very life!”

Wa lace Gilmore pressed her hand warm-
1 , then dropped it, to hurry away through
the darkness, just as a ray of light made
itself perceptible.

llow have

 

CHAPTER XXIV.
A BOLD s'moxa FOR FREEDOM.

THAT light came from the direction of the
mountain shack, and Fanny had no difficulty
in divining the truth; Bascom Hooper was
coming back to give some more orless plans
ible explanation of that interruption.

Such proved to be the case, so far as the
bearer of that light was concerned, and Fan-
ny quickly made out the bearded features of
the plausible villain who had so adroitly de-
co ed her out of Denver.

'n one hand he bore the candle with which
he had lighted their passage to the cabin,
and holding it over his head for a freer
glance around as he came to that chamber,
or enlargement of the main shaft, Bascom
Hooper a moment later stuck the taper into a
rude contrivance made for that express pur-

ose.

p Lent courage b the knowledge that a true
friend was hover ng near, ready at any nio-

vvvvvvv -.

 

ment to come to her aid should the necessity
arise, the maiden betrayed far more nerve
than would have been at her command after
the words she caught under the cabin.

“ \Vell, you are not mortally offended,
Miss Fanny?” asked Hooper, with an affec~
tation of gayety. “ After all I might just as»
well have let you remain above deck; but
that whistle might have meant danger by
far too great for one so precious to be ex-
posed to it !"

“ it was a false alarm,then ?" Fanny forced
herself to ask, with admirably assumed com-
posure, though the task was nearly too great
for her. “ There was no one coming?"

“ No one? But there was, though!” with
a low chuckle. “ A messenger from the bess,
wairning me to have all in readiness for a
vis t.”

“The boss?” echoed the maiden, her eyes
flashing now.

“Your father, Anson Barbour then, my
dear. He will be here this very night, and
then—”

“Will he come as a prisoner, like me?”

Bascom Hooper gave a start, the rays of
the candle showing a bit of additional color
in his face at that sharp query. But he ral—
lied as swiftly, speaking half-impatiently,
half-pityingly:

“ A prisoner? Don’t you think it, even
for an instant, ma‘am! A prisoner? Why,
my girl, don’t you even yet realize that your
father is our boss, our leader, our chief?”

“That is a monstrous lie. and no one
knows it better than on do. Bascom Hoop~
erl” indignanily cried, the maiden, turning
away from the evil knave, resuming the seat,
which she had abandoned at his approach.

“ If you’re not crazy— But there!” be ex
claimed, checking those angry words by an
evident effort. " l’ll bear with you yet a,
little longer, Miss Barbour, but I’ll be mighty
glad when I can turn you over to the safe-
keeping of your parent. For once in my
life I’ve got a big plenty!

“ Wliy are you so desperate] hard to con-
vince, iss Fanny?” he askedyaftera brief
silence, during which he seemed undecided

‘whether it wouldn’t be the better part of

wisdom to beat a retreat and leave time to
work its own cure. “Why can‘t you put
faith in my words?"

“Because your speech is nothing better
than a tissue of cunning lies!” sharply re-
torted the maiden. ‘

Yet, boldly though she spoke, her face
turned very pale and her lids drooped shiver-
ingly over her eyes; for gust then she can ht
sight of a phantom-like ure stealing no se-
lessly up behind the out aw, and she knew
that Wallace Gilmore was coming to—do
what?

“I‘m telling you the sober truth right
now, at any rate,” coolly asserted Hooper.
“That interruption was caused by the com-
ing of a messenger from Anson Barbour,
your father, my chief, stating his intention
of coming here this very night! If you
don’t believe—”

That sentence was never finished!

Wallace Gilmore had crept well within
striking distance, and rising up from that
crouchin posture, he flung an arm around
Bascom ooper‘s throat, forming a smother-
ingxgarrote, at the same time lifting a knee
to re sharply into the small of his back as
he jerked the outlaw viciously backward,
whirling him around as they both dropped
together, Gilmore adding his full weight to
that heavy fall!

Once—twice!

IIis right hand, clasping what seemed to
be a heavy chunk of quartz, rose and fell
twice in swift succession, each blow resound-
ing dully, yet causing Fanny to shudder and
gasp with sickening orror. .

Sprin ing to h 5 feet, Wallace Gilmore
droppe that rudely eflective weapon in
favor of a brace of revolvers, glarin flercel
into the shadows as though more t an haff
expecting a rush of enemies to follow that
brief struglgie.

But not ng of the sort happened. There
was no sound to tell of immediate peril.
Not even a groan came from the li s of Bas-
com Hooper as he lay there, he] in light,
half in darkness, seemingly so soon sent
across the Great Divide!

“Courage, Faun ” the victor cried, in
subdued but fierce y exultant tones, as he
saw the maiden cowering there on her rude

n.8,“, z:7"?

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The King—Pin Sport.

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“ All is well!

In

pallet. Everything is com.
ing‘our way, now

he maiden dropped her hands, with
which she had involuntarily tried to shut
out that awful sight, and with a shuddering
glance toward that motionless shape, she
gasped:

“ lie is not~you haven‘t— ()h, sir!"

“()h, he’s all right, barring a bit of a
headache something akin to the one his bul-
let gave me,” declared Gilmore, unblushing-
ly, yet like one who deemed it wisest to fall
in with her humor for the moment. “ But I
will truss him up so that he can’t howl too
soon, nor too loud, for our safety!"

Stepping over to her couch, Gilmore took
possession of a blanket, which he coolly pro-
ceeded to cut and tear into strips suitable for
his purpose, all the while speaking with con-
siderable animation.

Very likely it was his idea as to how he
could best restore the nerve Fanny had
lost. '

“ I didn’t mean to down him so soon. I’d
rather have put it off for a few hours longer,
when it would have been night on the out-
side, as well as night in here. But—well, I
feared the rascal intended to take you back
to the cabin, and once in yonder I’d stand
no show at all, save by making an open at-
tack and fighting against long oddsl”

With the strips 0 blanket thus provided,
he bound the outlaw, hand and foot, slip-
ping a bandage over face and lips i) way of
a gag, although one who had received two
such fearful strokes with the chunk of
quartz, must be in poor condition for raising
an outcry!

And, while lifting and dragging the body
over to a dark corner of that earth-chamber,
W'allace Gilmore took good care to cover
that head and face with a fold of the blanket,
so that Fanny did not once catch so much as
a glimpse of either!

Coverin the body over with another
blanket ta en from the pallet, Wallace Gil-

.more paused in a listening attitude, presently

giving vent to a sigh of intense relief, fol-
lowed up by along inhalation of air.

“ So much for so much! And though we
have met again, ’tis Basequ Hooper whose
name has chan ed to Dennis!"

Fanny sighe and shivered. It was all so
awful, all so horrible! If she was only safe
back in her comfortable home once more!

And yet—her long missing father!

The same thought seemed to strike Wal-
lace Gilmore, for he said:

“Of course Hooper was lying when he
said your father sent word to expect him
here this evening. We heard what sort of
message that fellow brought, and—if he
should take a fool notion to follow Hooper
down here? Or—the rest of the evil out-

fit?"
Fanny]r sprung to her feet, forgetting all
minor t oughts in her wild longing to escape

forever from that awful den, from those law-
less hands, from—ugh!

“Take me away! Oh, sir, take me away
from this, before that horrible—I seem to see
him looking at me, showing his teeth like——I
dare not stay here any longer!"

“Nor shall you, dear girl!" quickly assert-
ed Gilmore, an arm catching her waist as the
maiden sprung further away from that hid-
den yet too distinctly-seen corpse. “ I'd
heap sight prefer night as a cover, but we’ll

try the secret passage right away, to make‘

sure it isn't closed upon us by those devils—
if they should miss Hooper!"

With arm about the trembling maiden,
lending her much-needed support, Wallace
Gil more left the dimly-lighted earth-chamber,
hurrying on until at a point only a few yards
from where that other masked door concealed
the narrow tunnel leading out to the moun-
tain shack. ,

Pausng here, he fumbled 1n the dark for a
few seconds, then gave a low ejaculation of
grim pleasure as he succeeded in opening a
second barrier, even more ingeniously masked
than that other. .

“This is the way 1 0t in,” he explained
in a low but distinct w isper while groping
their Way Slowly “long what was evrdentl)’
another tunnel, §imilar in shape to the one
by means Of “1011 00mmunication was had
bet-ween cabin and mine, only considerably
longer than that one.

“I ha pened on it throu h
I saw 00per seeminglyé

ive into the solid

 

 

Now——

p)

hill, and then investigated, later on.
we are almost at the mouth, Miss Fanny

“ And then?"

“ Well, unless guards have been placed
there since I last came in, we will find very
tlittle difficulty in giving l-Iooper's devils the
slip for good and all!

“The entrance, or the exit, rather, is not
visible from the cabin, it being on the ‘fur-
ther side of a shoulder which--—but you shall
see it all for yourself, my dear! Now—
silence, on your life!"

A few paces further brought them to the
exit, and after listening for a brief space
without hearing aught to alarm, Wallace
Gilmore grasped Fanny’s wrist, stepping
through the narrow opening to—

Not to safety, but to be pounced upon by a
number of armed men, who yelled in savage
exultation as he went down before their
vicious rush!

 

CHAPTER XXV.

'l‘llltl SIAMESIC ’I‘\VINS APOLOGIZE.

ONCE again in the saddle and covering that
long and (lilllcult trail as only a good horse
and a better man could.

Once again both horse and rider showing
signs of the severe strain to which they had
been subjected, but now their destination
was close at hand, for yonder showed the
first signs of the great Carbonate Camp; that
“Magic City,” Leadvillc.

With only a few absolutely necessary halts,
Ten-Strike Tom had ridden all the way from
Denver, meeting with no adventure worthy
of note b the way, sparing neither himself
nor his faithful steed, for he felt that he and
he alone could save Fanny Barbour from a
fate worse than death itself.

And now, just when he was beginning to
congratulate himself that his forced journey
had reached its immediate ending without
aught to delay or to endanger, his keen eyes
caught sight of moving shapes which he in-
stinctively recognized as enemies.

Swift as thought his hands dropped to the
pistols at his hips, the good horse veering
sharply aside in obedience to that pressure
of his knees; but before even he could go
further, a deep-toned voice cried out in
peaCeful accents:

“ Don’t shoot, boss! It’s flag 0’ truce, an’
all han’s up at this eend o’ the alley: see?”

Acorpulent shape waddled out into the
stage-road alongside of which it had been
waiting in seeming ambush, followed from
the opposite side 1) a tall, awkward, sham-
bling figure, both li ting their unarmed hands
above their heads. . .

“Steady, there!” sternly called forth the

King-Pin Sport as his guns rose to a level,
the silver beads covering the strangely-
matched pair with deadly celerity. “ I’ll
Send a lead-drift through ye both at the first
hint of trickery!" '
’ “ Jest so ye don’t do hit hafore, yer
Onor!” squealineg cried the taller fellow,
squirming uneasily, yet still holding his
ground in spite of those physical tremors.

“W Ich it’d be bloody murder, sir, boss,
yer Honor!" rumbled the corpulent claimant,
with equal haste of tongue. “Fer we’re jest
waitin’ hyar fer to make our ’umble ’pologies
fer bein’ sech (lug-gun chumps ez to even
reckon we mought—ef you on’y could corn-
trive for to shift the dangerous eend 0’ them
’ar howl-twisters t’other way for a bit, boss!”

It was easy enough for Thomas Gay worthy
to recognize those human obstacles In the
trail, and as his memory flashed back to.the
night of their first (as well as last) meeting,
what more natural than to think the brace of
knaves had waylaid him thus for the ugly
purpose of “ playing even?" I

'But now, as they faced him out of cover,
flinchin visibly from his trained guns, yet
so clear y bent on securing a' parley, his mo-
mentary anger faded away, and he could
even smile at both present and past.

“Fla of truce is all right enough when
civ1hze creatures hold it up, but when fel.
lows of your caliber—”

“gyar’s a Krupp, an’ yen's a ’tatur pop-
gun

Henry Kane Jones grinned broadly as he
made this apt comparison, and TemStrike
Tom felt more like lau hing than frowning

; as he recognized the whimsical jest.
a lucky chance.

“I’d ought to fire you both, but—what is
it you’re after, anyway?” he, demanded,

lowering his pistols a trifle, but still on his
guard against possible treachery.

“Fu’st, we ax to ’polo ize fer tryin’ to
play Xe all over dirt, bac yender a few
nights,” briskly explained the corpulent
claimant, now more at his case.

“ Don‘t mention it, I beg!” and Ten- V
Strike Tom smiled at the memor thus
. brought back. “ Seems to me I fare about,
as well as either of you, that scrape!”

“An’ a dug-gun sight better, or mebbe
we wouldn’t be so red-hot fer to ’pologizz,"
half humorously. half doleful. “ Fer why?
Beca‘se we didn't not on’y hev fer to stan’
thar like clogs hitched to the duru tail of a
durneder donk’ ontel broad daylight, but
then—go ’way sick hens!”

" liottcn—hegged—ho, my!” squealed Ham-
ilton King, nose going up and stomach con-
tracting at the awful memories thus re-
vived. “Don‘t ye talk, ’Arry! Hit makes
me— Ow-auglt!”

“Git into the bresh ef ye want to make a
holy spectacle out o’ yer ugly self, critter!"
.stexnly reproved the corpulent member.
“ Ye done tuck yer sweet dose then like ye
was a little bob-tailed lamb, an’ ye shorely
didn‘t ought fer to turn outside in now!”

“ Made a couple of omelettes of on, did
they?" laughingly asked Ten-Strike 0m.

“\Vhich I wouldn’t ’a’ felt so mighty
much like kickin’ over ef the ’gredients
hedn’t bin so dug-gun too old !” candidly
avowed the fat man. “But never mind
lookin’ back at jest that thar pictur’; me
pard, hyar, hes the ’pepsia so turrible bad
that ar little thing the like 0’ that ’fects his
stomac all upside down!”

“Well, what more do on want of me?”
demanded Gayworthy, w th an abrupt as‘
sumption of his former sternness. “ You
surely can’t expect me to whip the town to
wipe out their insult toward you Siamese
Twins?” .

“Durn the town, jest so we kin collar
’nough rocks fer to git us well out of it!"
bluntly spoke the fat member, with a wave
of his hand. .

“Am I expected to pay for the blessed
privilege of your delightful acquaintance,
then?”

“Waal, not onless ye raally reckon ye’d
orter," generously answered Harry Kane.
“Still the way we is fixed, jest now, the
idec is like this: small favors thankfully
'ceived, an’ bigger ones a mighty sight mo’
so!"

“ Out on a begging tour, is it? Well, I’m
opposed to mendicancy, on principle, which
lets you gentlemen out: understand ?”

The fat man drew back with an assump-
tion of dignity that would have been superb,
had it notbeen ridiculous!

“That’s your mistake, sir, but not'our
treat! \Ve hain’t come out hyar on a beggin’
’pedition, nuther. VVe’re playin’ it squar’,
on the dead level, sir! An’ so—this is the

why 0’ the whichness!

“This is me, Harr Kane Jones. That is
me pard now, Hamilton King Jones. We
both see a big reward offered fer somebod
which has them precise ee-nitials as we bot
owns. Wharfo’ we both—”

“Bite it off short, please,” crisply inter-
pose the King-Pin Sport, anxious to get on
to his destination, yet with a growing curi-
osity as to what fresh kink these oddly-
matched partners had picked up.

“Which is jest what I’m a doiu’ of right
now, sir, boss, yer Honor, the werry best I
know. An’ so, ez I was a-sayin’—what was
I sayin’, aryhow, dug-gun ye, Ham ?”

“Has ’ow we two gents wanted for to
hearn that reward, hof course, ye bloomka
pidiot, ye!” piped the tall member, disgusted-

y“Fer findin’ the H. K. Jones e wanted
wuss then ye did us—that’s it, er a honest
fact!” declared Harry Kane, with a vigorous
nod “An’ now, boss, air ye willin' to pay
’cordin’ to the information a critter fetches
ye, that-a-Wz.y?”

“What have you learned since I saw you
last?” cvasively came the answer.

“That aigs hain‘t al'ays aigs, fer one
thing,” with a grin. “But that on’t count.
Ef you say— Durned ef I don’t run the
resk, as atween gent an’ gent, sir!

“We come hyar lottin’ on gittin’ big grey
fer bein’ named ez we was named. e
wasn’t the right critters, but we made up
our minds for to find out who was, en’—

 

‘iv .-
\\.* .- .
. 3‘ .

 

 

26

The King-Pin Sport.

 

 

Waal, I reckon we kin putt ye onto the
right trail, boss, ef— Ye keteh on?"

“ Ilif ye makes hit worth hour trouble,
sir!" cried out Ilamilton King.

“ How am I to know that this isn‘t an-
other of your crooked tricks to down me,
for good, though?" dubiously asked the
Spert.

“Would we stoop so low as to play——
But that don‘t Count!” said llarry Kane in
a hurry, as he caught that snecring smile
at his choice of words. “ An’ so, to‘ prove
it to ye—We’ll show ye the goods afore we
even ax fer the pay!"

“W’ich ha gent hof h’onor wouldn't stoop
so low has to cheat hus, hanyway,” rather
fecbly squealed the tall member, evidently
thinking of the bird in hand, yet hardly
daring to openly objt ctl just then.

“I ketehed the first clue ’long of talkin'
’bout the feller who got his last sickness that
night in the Good Luck. I made out he’d
bin sort 0' workin’ fer a queer ole critter
livin’ out in the hills, some‘r's, who was
knowed by the mighty few which knowed
him at all, as Daddy Markle.”

“I’ve heard of him—yes,” quietly observed
Ten Strike Tom.

“ Hev ye ever bin to his shack? Hev ye
ever see’d what I hev sawed; that inside the
cabin thar is cyarved with a knife onto a
beam, the same dug-gun ’nitials which
ketched we-’uns into sech a squabble? Did
ye ever See them names: II. K. Jones?"

Forth rolled these sentences with wondrous
volubility, at first deep and sonorous, then
gradually rising until the final query issued
in a lingering squeal which would hardly
have shamed the gangling member of that
speculating firm.

But instead of being stricken with joy or
amazement, Ten-Strike Tom yawned until
his palate was visible to those protruding
eyes. Then he gathered up the loose reins in
his left hand, its mate still holding pistol,
more as though the Sport had forgotten to
return it to ts regular resting-place than
as one who still fears some treacherous
assault.

“Is that all?” he asked, languidly, after
that 'awn.

“ ood Lawd o’ everlastin’ glory! I‘Iain't
it plum enou ‘h, then?” the fat member
ejaculated. “ ain’t I tellin’ of ye that—”

“I suppose so. but what of it all? I've no
lon er any desire to discover the original
H. {. Jones, because what value he once held.
has vanished past recalling. Still, should I
ever conclude to look deeper into his case,
I'll bear you gentlemen in mind. Until then
—ta-ta!”

Ten-Strike sent his horse once more toward
Leadville.

 

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE KING-PIN DETECTIVE'S PLEDGE.

THE good horse took only a few paces be-
fore Ten-Strike Tom turned in the saddle,
hand resting lightly on revolver-butt, though
he hardly anticipated having to put the
weapon into actual play.

Still, there were angry sounds coming
from the spot Where he had ridden between
the two bummers whom he had facetiously
dubbed the Siamese Twins; words of anger,
oaths and curses both hot and heavy!

“ All it lacks is a clothcsline and a couple
of tails long enough to knot together!
Wouldn’t they make a beautiful reproduction
of the Kilkenny cats, though!"

For the two bummers were facing each
other there in the middle of the stage-road,
both talking, both geslicnlating in anything
but amicable mood, just as though each was
charging the other with having ruined their
last hopes of gaining a. strike out of that com-
plicated H. K. Jones affair.

“They’ll get down to pulling hair ’fore
long, I reckon!” muttered Gayworthy,
slackening lines again and letting his good
steed take his own pace once more. “It‘d
be a circus well worth watching, and if I had
more time to spare—but I haven’t!"

As he rode on toward the now near town,
Ten-Strike Tom’s final glimpse of 'the
“ Siamese Twins " showed them still disput
ing, still making furious gestures, but not
yet worked up to the fighting pitch!

Thomas Gayworthy rode directly to the
livery-stable where he kept his horse while

;‘-"",. _, , . , . , p
.!*‘«’ si.l> "r >  *“.,» , ._- ,., ._~

 

in town, and bidding the hostler pay especial
attention to the noble animal, making fairly
sure his wishes would be respected by leav.
ing a liberal flour-mu- in that honest if rather
dirty palm, the King-Pin Detective hurried
on to his hotel, where he was quieklv 10-
freshing himself with a sponge-bath and a
change of clothes after his long and arduous
ride.

This done, he, stopped at the hotel otlicc to
inquire for letters, but Iindingnone, he ate
a fairlyhearty supper, then put on his hat
and sallied forth like, one who has some
j‘mrticular destination in view.

That destination appeared to be somewhere
among the saloons, for 'l‘enStrike Tom Went
the I‘Olll.(lS, glancing in throughthe unmask-
ed doors of some, in others crossingr over to
the bar, asking fora cigar, . then taking ad‘
vantage of the slowburning match to ask the
attendant whether Vince Purkiss had been
around that evening?

lfthe answer came in the negative, as it
nearly always did, he asked where would be
the next most likely plaee to look for tlut
gentleman ?

For a time it really seemed as though Gay-
wort’hy would have to sample about every
brand of cigars in Leadville, for each attempt
ended in failure to find the man he sought,
and each hint given him whilethe barkeepcr
wasnmaking change, proved worth nothing
at a . '

Still, Ten-Strike Tom rarely took a notion
into his head without fairly carrying it out
to the end, and he made up his mind to find
Vincc Purkiss if he had to run all Leadville
through a colander.

Then, as so often happens, chance gave
him the reward denied to persistent system;
he methis man face to face, just emerging
from a darkened doorway, back of which in
all probability was running a “skin game”
of fare, for the “square ” dealer had no oc-
casion to close his doors or to hide his light
from all mankind.

“ Hallo! You’re the very man I’ve been
searching for, all over this blessed village!”
briskly saluted the King-Pin Sport, gras ing
the hand of the tough between both 0 his
own, working it pretty much as a sailor
works the brake to keep a wooden bottom
under his feet.

“That’s all right—ef it is all right!” sur-
lily growled Purkiss, as he recognized the
one who greeted him with such unusual
warmth. “But mebbe you‘ll show the pa
pers fer it all, boss?" -

“And you, too, my lad?" cheerily added
Gay worthy, recognizing that faithful shadow
just behind Vince. “ How goes it, Daniel?”

Dan Mixon gave an inarticulate growlin
response, one hand hidden near his middle,
evidently ready to back up his pard in any-
thing which might come to the surface. If
Vince Purkiss snarled, he felt in duty bound
to growl!

“ \Vhat is it you want of us, Ten-Strike?"
demanded Purkiss, surlily. "Ef I pulled a
gun on you that night, back to l’atsy’s—”

“I’m not kicking about the gun, Purkiss,
my b0 ; and as for the rest—how is our
mutua friend, Patsy McCarthy? And—-
Biddy?”

“ Durn Biddy! An’ Patsy'——.waal, he’s
stuck fast'to his bed ever sencc. I made sure
he wasn't playin’ bugs onto me; he did
smash his hind leg all to thunder, that very
mornin’. lut I’m still keepin’ case onto the
durn whelp, an’ when he do git out, onto his
own hoofs—"

“May I be there to see the holy circus!"
ejaculated the King-Pin Detective, then al-
tering his jovial manner a bit, now that he
had fairly broken the ice and scattered that
surly reserve to the four winds.

“But Patsy McCarthy neVer gave you
that pair of beautiful black eyes, Purkiss!
And—wouldn’t you like to play men with
the fellow who did turn you end for end,
though?"

“Try me on! Jest try me on, an' see for
your own self whether I would or I would-
n‘t!” viciously snarled the tough, his hands
turning to lists, his athletic form quiveringl
from crown to solo with poorly repressc
rage and longing for revenge.

“ You wouldn’t mind running a bit of risk
to get that same chance, would you, Vince?”
slowl asked Ga 'worthy, keenly scanning
that face as dim y revealed by the light of
the full moon.

";,’,..‘-,_;~,j;-»— 1» A,r,,‘.,.-c,:‘ '- ~ .. " u. ' J   I

a

 

“ You jest pinthim out, an’ I’ll git him——~
I’ll git him e he stan’s right in the middle
0’ hell itself!” -

With indescribable hatred came those
words, and his last doubt vanishing, Ten
Strike Tom added: 9

“Well, the chances are that I can point
out your game to you without descending
to the regions of brimstone and sulphur,
l’urkiss. ()f courie you ean‘t well expect
me to take all that trouble on my own
shoulders without getting some slight pay
back?"

“Name your price, and Hi pay it back
ef I hev to work on the chain-gang!"

'l‘etrStrikC Torn laughed. softly, at this
natural inference, then said: .

“ )ly pay needn‘t eomeiu lard cash, Vince,
but in kind: l‘ll serve you, if you‘ll serve
me. \tht do you say to that?"

“ I'll say done! Jest so you give me your
word that you’ll show me the dirty cur as
blacked the two cyeso’ me whenl wasn't-
lookin!"

“ \Vell, this is hardly the best place in the
world to form an alliance. Will you come
with me to my room? And—how about
Mixon?”

“ Whar Vince goes, thar I go ’long,” quiet-
ly answered the pard for himself. " That’s
what, pard ?”

“ You bet yer sweetlife was the emphatic
r Ioinder; then adding in quieter tones:
“ That’s the way of it, Ten-Strike. When it
comes to asplit, him 'nd ine's jest one knot
past splittin', but when it comes to hot Work
or a nasty fight—wan], then we’re a couple
that’s gin’allyekil to half a dozen. See ?”

“And right glad of it, too!” frankly ad
mitted Gayworthy, as he moved off in the
dll‘t‘CllOl’l of his hotel. “ I thought one good
man would be enough to back me up in:
the li'tle job I have in view, but two good
men are so much the better!”

“ An’ the dug-gun cuss who belted me in
the peepers, boss?"

“ I’ll show him to you, never fear, pard
ner!”

Nothing happened to delay or hinder their
reaching the hotel, where Gayaorthy on
dered a bottle and cigars sent up to his
chamber, to which refuge he then guided
his guests.

When the liquor was fairly sampled, and
the weeds ignited. Ten-Strike Tom began to
more fully open his budget, seemingly frank
and open as the sun—lit noonday, yet adroitly
holding in reserve the most important points.

It was not that he entertained any actual
doubts as to the perfect good faith with
which the two pards had pledged him their
aid and servicos in return for the information
he promised to impart at the proper moment;
but he was not yet fully certain as to their
ability to keep a close lip.

“ There's just this much about it, friends,
which you don’t want to overlook; we may
have to burn powder, or redden steel.”

“Which we kin do ef we hev to, I reckon.
Eh, Dan ?”

“ That’s what!”

“ Why don’t you ask whether we’re going
with or flatly against the law?"askcd Gay-
worthy, with a slow, half-smile while keenly
watching the faces of his recently won allies.

“Whar‘s the use?" almost indifferently
asked Vince Purkiss, in turn. “You’re
gwinc ’long, hain’t ye?"

“ Of course I am!”

“Waal. right thar you hev it, I reckon.
Eh, Dan ?”

“ You’re mighty right, pard!"

“ Fer what’s good ’nough for you, is
plenty good fer us. Ef you’re wrllin’ to
bust the law wide open, why should we
skecr off? See?” .

Ten-Strike Tom laughed heartily at that
bluntly honest speech, so stropgly contrast—
in with the crooked morals it Indicated.

Still, it was just what he would have wish-
ed for had the choice been offered him, and
his hands went out to be clasped by those of
the inseparable pardS.

“That's all right. then. You are to fol-
low my lead, tostrike as I bid you, to kill if
nothing less Will serve. On my part, I’ll
promise to do my full share of the work, and
not to shirk my portion of the hard blows in
case it comes down to fighting."

“An' you’re to give me a fa'r show fer
playin‘ even with the dirty cuss as jolted me.
that night?”

1"

 a?  . ._  a:

f.

‘.--.-v.-.  ..~ "73"" 
ua‘ .. - - u)» x. .-

 

 

 

  

The King-Pin Sport.

27

 

 

t

I’ll show you your game, and even
help you bring it to bag! Now-good-
night, boys! Go get what sleep you can,
for I'll expect you ’round here, bright and
early in the morning, ready to take to the
field!”

“\Ve’ll be on deck, don’t you worry we
won’t, now! Come, Dan!”

“Yes.

CHAPTER XXVII.
Tm: ARClI-I’LOTTER snows Ins, HAND.

THERE was little more than a show of
fighting when those rough-clad fellows
pounced upon \Vallace Gilmore, for their
very weight was enough to crush down a
far more powerful man, particularly when
caught entirely off his guard.

There were oaths and curses mingling
with the blows and the brief struggling, but
Fanny Barbour could neither aid her guide '
nor herself, just then; one of the knaves
made a dive past his mates, to grasp the
maiden in an unfailing grip.

“Whar's the use, anyway, pritty?" he
cried, moving further back into the secret
passage, but pausing where he could hear if
not see. “The young squirt hes ketched his
craw-full, an’ ef he hedn’t, hyar's a full
gun what'd fetch him up eendways of so be
he was to make a bulge a’ter you ag‘in !"

Little risk of such a rush coming,
though!

Fanny could hear the rufflans as they
laughed amid their cursing, and even so

 

quick] she knew Wallace Gilmore had
more 1 an he could do to defend himself. ,

And yet, even then, his thoughts turned '
her way, his sole desire seemed to be that no f
further harm might befall the maiden!

“Don’t hurt—let her go, if—kill me, I
but—” '

Brokenly came the words, but Fanny ‘
- caughttheir full meaning. and a Scream of ‘-
mingling fear and pity broke from her lips.

“Don‘t hurt the gal, Jingles!” harshly!
warned a voice from just outside that tun‘
no]. “The boss‘ll chaw us all to rags of l
ary harm comes to her, ye want to mind!" I

“The gal's all right; how‘s your boy?" .
half mockingly called back the fellow in “
whose grasp Fanny was lying, almost faint- !
1n .
g‘Done ketched him in a hopple—easy,
boys! ’Tain’t killin’ jest yit, onless the
boss wants to make it that way him own
self!”

Like one drawn by curiosity, the fellow
called Jingles moved nearer the adit, giving I
a low, grim laugh as he peeredforth to see '
Wallace Gilmore lying on his face with a
stalwart knave astride of his back, both 1
hands briskly adjusting stout bonds to
the arms and wrists of the conquered adven-
turer.

“D‘ye see them ’ar, my pritty ‘3” he asked,
with an ugly leer on his uglier visage, as he
shifted the position of his captive so she
could get a clearer View of that scene.
“Oh, he hain't ei'oaked—jist yit!” he add-
ed, as the poor girl gave a low, shuddering
sob

 

Drawing back once more, Jingles added:
“Thar's the way doiu‘s pritty much pan
out when they reckon to go buck up ag’inst
the boss, ye want to know, honey! Them
as thinks they kin is dug-gun shore fer to
find .out the didn't cain't, don’t ye sec?
An' so——waa , of you hain‘t jist a plum’ fool
fer the lack 0' good sense, gal, you'll sort 0’

b’ar that much in mind when the time comes ‘
fer ye to stan' 11p flfront 0’ that same boss— l

’deed, yes, ma’am!"
Glibly came the sentences-just as though
he who uttered them had given the matter;

careful thought; but if Fanny heard, she!
gave no signs to that eilect. [
Hardly a minute ago she had been so full .

of hope, so well assured that escape from!
those evil clutches was all but won; and ]
now—all was lost]

” Back out with yer dainty duck, Jingles!"
came from the owner of that coarse voice
without the passage.
along, lads” A mighty purty pa‘r they ‘be,

l
Jingles “fth the hardly conscious maiden !

in his arms and

proper, fonowed p7 “18 rest of the evil gang.
NP Of them manng the bound form of Wal-

“" -“..

 

i

moved back toward the mine '

     

lace Gilmore, one at his head, the other at

‘his feet, while the third and last knave act-

ed as master of ceremonies, or general utility
man. a

That loathsome clasp, the whisky-laden
breath which fanned her face, both combined
to arouse the maiden, and rallying her pow-
crs once more, she managed to touch feet to
ground as she pantingly cried:

“Don‘t—I'll walk! I will not be carried
like— 1 can walk, now !"

“That's all hunky, and walk she goes!"
promptly acquiesced Jingles. “ lif ’twas jest
my own sweetness I was totin', I'd lnmg on
like grim death to a dead nigger! But now-—
Stiddy by jerks, ma‘am !"

Although it Was intensely dark there in
that subterranean passage, none of the out-
laws experienced auy difficulty in making
their way along the adit, thus proving their
perfect familiarity with the place.

Jingles was first to gain the earth-chamber
where Wallace Gilmore had so dexterously
disposed of Bascom Hooper, and there con-
fronted a dark-garbed shape, over whose face
was fastened a cloth mask, thus most effec-
tively disguising his identity.

“ You’ve got them both, then?” asked the
masked man, in deep, almost hollow tones
as he looked be ond the first comer.

“Got ’cm a! two both, boss," promptly
answered the fellow, ducking his head and
scraping with one foot as he drew a trifle
back from the maiden whom he had con-
ducted hither.

“ An’l Gilmore?”

“Let up, ye devils!” cried that worthy
for himself, voice choking as with intense
passion. " Let up, I say! I’ll answer
for myself, if you—let up, ye whelps of
Satan!’

“Not dead, that’s fairly certain,” ob-
served the Mask, with a short, disagree-
able laugh at that vicious outbreak.

“No, but you will be, if ever I get a
half-show !"

“That will do; take him back to the
dump," coldly ordered the chief knave,
waving a gloved-hand as though monarch of
all he viewed.

The four fellows quickly fastened upon
that vainly-struggling figure, hurrying past
their chief to vanish beyond the circle of
light cast forth by that candle.

Fanny, left standing alone for the mo-
ment, fell back against the earth-wall,
shivering as with a mortal chill, yet facin
that enigma in black like one striving hard
to identify fact with fancy.

Who was this being? Surely not one, of
those who had brought her all the way
from Denver to this solitary retreat? Sure-
ly not—would or could a father act like
this?~

“No! never!” broke almost unconsciously
from her pale lips as her hand pressed tight-
ly over her madly-throbbing heart. “He
is not—I’ll never believe him my—never!”

“Would I make such a rank failure as
a true and lovingparent, then, my dear?"
sneeringly asked the Unknown, readily in-
terpreting her meaning; “ Would it prove
such a dreadful shock. the knowledge that
I was Anson Barbour?”

“ You are not— He isa gentleman, while
you are—-”

“ Nchr spoil a neat sentence because fin-
ishing it might cut through a too sensitive
hide, my dear!" mocked the Mask; but then
his tone and manner swiftly changed, hardly
for the better.

“Enough of this folly, girl! It is high
time your eyes were opened to the truth,
and— ’m the only man living who can make
that entire] clear to your compreln-nsion!

“’Twas y my commands that you were
brought here from Denver. Bascom Hooper
was'my prime agent, and— What are you
looking for?”

At that name, Fanny involuntarily glanced
toward the door of the earth-chamber where
W allace Gilmore had hidden the bed of that
agent; but she could see no signsn it now
though yonder lay the Very blanket Wm;
which Wallace had covered that form from

“Fetch yer lame duck her sight!

“Looking for the gentle Bascom, are on ‘2"
sneeringly asked the Mask as he fol owed
the direction taken by her ews. “Well,
have patience yet a little longer, and you
may meet the gentleman—in this lower
world, too, so don’t shudder!”

 H,

 

- '- ' “" ""w .i;.
t . "fits-darn}  an. 41.x. ..  ' “ ‘

Fanny made no answer. She was too
thoroughly shaken up, too greatly agitated
for easy command of her vocal organs.

“ Never mind about Iloopcr, though, Miss
Barbour; you have enough to think about,
without that. Now—listen to me, if you
please! ‘

“The time for lying, for soothing words,
for temporizing with the naked truth has
gone by. From this moment on, we’ll do
our work without hiding under cover.

“You are not altogether an idiot, Miss
Barbour. You are wise enough to realize
that no one would go to all this trouble,
would run so many and such great risks,
simply to humor an idle whim. or to gratify
a mere caprice. So—this is plain business,
girl!

“ I am the man who plotted and planned
all this intricate work; and why? Open
your ears, and I’ll give you an abundance of
light, my girl!

“ I needed a stronger lever than any I had
so far been able to find or to use. So—I
thought of you, and so I sent my tools out
to gather you in! They obeyed, and here
you are!

“For what particular purpose, do you
ask? To deal the final blow which will
break down the too-stubborn will of an in-
fernal fool who—”

“ My father?" huskily panted the maiden,
shrinking yetstrangely attracted toward that
masked enigma. ‘ " You have—tell me of my
poor, dear father, sir!"

Just then the four knaves came back from
disposing of W'allace’Gilmore, and paused as
though for further orders.

“ You left him securely bound,of course?"
asked the mask.

“The same way you saw him, boss.”

“All right. Jingles will wait with him.
The rest of you go back to the shack and
keep an eye out against intruders from that
quarter. Go!”

The four knaves obeyed, and once more
Fanny was left with the Unknowu, who
spoke sharply to her a few seconds later

“Can you fully realizo it all, girl? Do
you know that unless you listen to reason
and yield to the inevitable, you will Sign
the death-warrantof Wallace Gilmore, not to
mention Anson Barbour, your father?“

“ My poor father! Tell me—where is be?
Oh, sir, where is he?" ~

“Beside his grave. from which your hand
alone can hold him back!"

 

CHAPTER XXVIII.
"YOUR MONEY on YOUR LIFE!"

THE Masked Chief lifted hand to lips and
gave a shrill whistle at this juncture, and at
the signal Bascom Ilo‘oper came into view
from‘the further gloom, his head rud! ly ban-
daged, his hands gripping firm hold of a
manacled figure which he rudely shoved
along ahead of him, into the circle of light.

Fanny Barbour gave a low, shuddering
cry as she stared at this man: so like a vision
just risen from the grave!

Ilis emaciated form was clad in rags and
tatters. His hair and long beard were tangled
and thickly frosted with silver threads. His
face itself was gaunt with hunger and deep-
ly lined by the tortures which had been meas—
ured out to him with a ruthless hand in the
struggle to break down his indomitable will.

The very personification of \\ retchedness
and privation, yet~—through it all the. e shone
the iron nerve which had fought so bravely
agairlist terrible odds for more than a long
your

One wondering, doubting, pityiug look,
then Fanny Barbour uttereda shrill, piercing
scream, for recognition came to her in spite
of the sad change which those horrible
months of almost unceasing torture had
wrought.

And as Bascom Hooper fell back in obedi-
ence to awave of his masked master 5 gloved
hand, the daughter sprung forward, to clasp
arms arouni the neck of her long-missing
father!

On one side stood Bascom Hooper, a sar-
donic grin contorting his thickly-bearded
visage, on the other was the Masked Chief,
arms folded over his prominent chest, eyes
gleaming like twin coals of fire through the
slits in his face-covering.

Fanny sobbed and moaned, half in delirious

's "'H  '”' ~. : “ _‘. r a». a; :

  

F

   
   

"1'!

w.‘ I‘— ‘r‘?’
;%.,:_—n

"‘fl. '

V

-d

of life cut of your obstinate carcass!

28 ’~

The King-Pin Sport.

 

 

joy at finding the parent for whom she had
mourned so long, half in terror lest that meet-
ing should prove to be fatal to the loved
one.

She could not forget the threats uttered by
those hidden lips, nor could she ignore that
ominous presence.

For a few brief minutes thus, studying
first the tearful face of the maiden, then
striving to read the full emotions of the fa-
ther, who showed a wonderful degree of
nerve under the shock of that meeting; for
if he had been so ruthlessly tortured by this
demon in human guise, how much worse
might be the fate awaiting this innocent
maiden?

Then, as though he felt the proper time to
deal his next blow had come around, the Un-
known spoke, sharply:

“ I promised to bring father and daughter
together in life once more, but neither of you
seemed to fully credit my assertions. Now
---you have met, you have greeted, and it is
time for you to learn the full penalty at-
tached to this reunion, unless—unless you
come to my terms!”

“ You merciless devill” huskin panted the

father, vainly striving to free his arms so

that he might at least make a show of shield-
ing his beloved child from that villain. “ For
myself I care naught, but for my child~
harm her, and I’ll kill you by inches!”

His arch-enemy laughed coldly, sneering—
ly, flinging out a gloved hand in utter con-
tempt of that fierce but impotent rage.

“The will is yours, but the power is mine,
Anson Barbour! If any dying by inches is
on the programme, that rule must be filled
by yourself! You have already experienced
something of that, my fine fellow! Shall I
grant you time in which to explain all its

elirions joys, its mad ecstasies to this, your
one pet ewe-lamb, Anson Barbour?"

“ You devil! Why don’t an offended God
blast you as you stand?"

" Because he’s gone out of the blasting
business, no doubt,” sneercd the Masked
Chief, laughing shortly as though the bare
idea amused him hugely. “ But we’re talk-
ing of earthly, not of Heavenly powers, my
dear friends, and so—listen, please!

“ This is the last call, Anson Barbour!
This is my final attempt to break dOWn your
Infernal obstinacy, and in order to make it as
effective as possible, I have gone to greater
expense and incurred more risks than will
ever be wiped out unless—unless I carry my
full point!"

“ I’ll never give up! I’ll never bend,
though you may break me!”

Like one who has repeated the words until
they become a matter of rote Anson Bar-
bour pronounced these two sentences. And
yet, with that dear form trembling on his
breast, her arms about his neck in loving
clasp, how could he avoid feeling a sicken-
ing horror of what was yet to befall 'them
both?

“ So your lips say, Anson Barbour, but
your face gives them the lie!” You know
now what a mighty power I’ve won, and
how surely that power will be exercised to
the utmost, unless you give way, now!

“ For more than a year—for nearly fifteen
long months I have held you in my grip,
able at any instant to squeeze the last spark
At an
day of all that long score, I have stood read§r
and eager to give you back to the world, to
the liberty you pined for, only asking one
thing in return: your golden secret!

“ ’ou surely have learned to rightly 'udge
my power, by this. You certainly now
that what I say, that I will do. So—I tell
you in speech too plain for misinterpreting,
Anson Barbour—give me your money, or I’ll
have you r hfel"

Fiercely. viciously came these threats, and
with a shuddering moan of growin fright,
the maiden buried her blanched face still
deeper in the bosom of her helpless parent.

I looks had power to sla , death would
have claimed yonder masked emon then and
there! But that was all poor Anson Barbour
could do.

“Do you understand, you obstinate, surly,
bull-headed do 7” still more viciously cried
the Unknown, caning a bit nearer those two,
his eyes glittering l kc those of an enraged
snake the while. “It’s our money or your
life! It's lyiield to my wis es and live; refuse,
and peris like a dog! It's death for you,

 

Anson Barbour, and it’s even worse than
death for your dainty daughter!”

Anson 3arbour gave a hoarse, savage cry
at this diabolical threat, vainly striving to
burst his bonds, but the Masked Chief sprung
forward and grasping Fanny with gloved
hands, forcibly tore her from that long-lost
and now surely-doomed parent.

At the same instant Bascom Hooper rushed
forward to close muscular arms about the
body of the prisoner, holding him still more
helpless.

“Now, girl,” harshly added the Unknown
as he held the maiden in a close clutch de-
spite her frantic struggles to break away.
“ Now, girl, it comes your turn! Win your
fool’ father ovor to telling just where he has
buried his golden store, or he shall die by
inches, and an even worse fate shall be yours!
Now—come to my terms or the band begins
to play!” W_

CHAPTER XXIX.
TEN-STRIKE TOM ON THE TRAIL.

“ TnA'r‘s the very place we’re looking for,
boys, but while those fellows are lurking so
near, I hardly reckon we‘d better make a
break for our wants!”

“Onless— Is ary one of ’em my meat,
boss?”

“ Neither one of ’em, Vince, so keep your
linen on, please!”

Thomas Gayworthy was the first speaker,
and the second, as a matter of course, was
the Denver tough, Vincent Purkiss, while
close at the elbow of the latter was his in-
separable, Dan Mixon. '

The trio, clad for roughing it and armed
to the teeth as men arm who knowingly
enter upon a campaign where they know the
chanCes are vastly in favor of hard fighting
where a man’s hand must keep his head,
were crouching under good cover, only a
few hundred yards from the spot where a
number of men could be seen in waiting.

There were only four of these fellows. and
though they were fully armed and looked as
though they might be as willing to use their
tools as bear them, the odds alone were not
sufficient to hold the King-Pin Detective
back, like this.

If necessary, or had he deemed it ad-
visable, he would have charged a force
thrice as strong with a smile on his face and
a jest onhis lips; but just now—there was
something more to be considered than
the mere love of fighting for iighting’s
sake.

“ You don’t reckon them cussed critters is
watchin’ fer us, boss?"

“ Well, hardly I If watching for us,
Vince, wouldn’t they keep a bit closer under
cover? No,” with a thoughtful frown dark-
ening his handsome face. “ They're guard-
ing the secret drift I told you about; but
why they should— Look!”

A sudden stir among yonder knaves drew
forth that hissing ejaculation, and the three
adventurers watched what was yet to come
with more than common interest.

They caught an indistinct glimpse of a
human being just emerging from that vine-
masked adit, then saw it literally buried be-
neath three of those armed watchers, cries,
oaths and jeering laughter coming in a curi-
ous jumble across that little valley to the
ears of the watchers.

Vince Purkiss gave a shar , eager breath
as he saw this vicious scramb c, then quickly
muttered:

“Shell we mix in, boss? Shell we lick
daylight out o’ the whole durn outfit?”

“ Steady, mate!" warningly spoke Ten-
Strike Tom, a hand grippingthe nearest arm
of the born fighter. “Follow my leads the
orders! Don’t— Holy smoke!”

For just then there came faintly to their
ears the scream of a woman in great terror or
distress of body, and like a revelation some-
thing of the truth flashed upon the King-Pin
Detective.

“Fanny! It’s she—caught while trying
to escape yonderdevilsl If— Toolate—too
late!”

Never in all his life had Thomas Gay-
worthy met with a severer test of his nerve
than right now. '

He fully believed that scre m came from
the lips of Fanny Barbour, drawn forth b
finding her hopes of escape from those evrl
clutches were vain.

His whirling brain held a picture of her

huge. I. . -

’T."' -~« ». "r n 4..

 

struggling in the rude grasp of one of those
burly ruflians, while yonder, to add to her
distress, vainly fought the man who had
thought to share her flight; the man who—
and he was—could it be her father, the long-
missing Anson Barbour?

Yet Ten-Strike Tom could not only hold
himself back from the rush to the rescue,
but could restrain his eager comrades as
well!

For one thing, the lay of the ground was
wholly against them, just then. They were
crouching under good cover, but that cover
was on the slope opposite that masked tunnel,
and they would have to charge across fully
three hundred yards of open space, each rod
of which could be. wholly commanded by
the outlaws with their guns.

And then—even so soon Ten-Strike Tom
could see that the unequal fight was ended:
the man who had first ventured from that
:ulit was overpowered and being bound.

“ We kin jest knock the socks off ’m,
boss!" muttered Purkiss, gripping his VVin-
Chester like one who fairly longs to begin the
racket on his own account. " \Ve kin punch
every dug-gun one of ’em chuck-full 0’ holes
afore they know what's broke loose!”

“You bet we jist kin, tool" chimed in
Dan Mixon

“ \Vait! Wait until I give— Too late!”

Thomas Gayworthy's hands Were holding
himself, now! Although he was wise enough
to see the absolute folly of attempting aught
on behalf of those two unfortunates just then
and just there, it required his sterncst self-
control to refrain from breaking cover and
rushing upon those lawless knaves.

As he repeatedly said, it was too late to
chip in with anyhope of helping Fanny Bar-
hour and her (to him) unknown companion
in misfortune, while any rash move on their
part would surely result in putting the ene-
my wholly on guard, if it did not result in
anything worse.

And so the Ten-Strike Sport lay under
cover, watching yonder villains as they com—
pleted their capture, then lifted that bound
form from the earth to which it had been
crushed by, theirweight of numbers, bearing
it feet foremost into the hill.

“ Jest like they was totin’ a corpus!" grim-
ly muttered Vince Purkiss.

When the little party vanished entirely
from view, Thomas Gayworthy drew a lon
breath as of relief, letting his tensely-strained
muscles relax for a brief space, his keen eyes
roving once more over the scope of country
spread before the trio.

Not for very long lasted this survey, for
Ten-Strike Tom had already made a pretty
thorough scout over the most of it, but he
was collecting his cooler thoughts, as well.

“You’re ready for work when I say so,
mates?" he asked, quietly.

“ More‘n ready, boss. Eh, Dan?”
“You bet your life!"
“Good enough! You two fellows will

wait here for the present, while I take a lit-
tle circumbendibus to get at the hole. yonder.
I’m going to follow those rascals, if it takes a
leg ofi !”

“An’ us, too, boss?”

“ Not yet,” decisively. “You’ll keep that
hole covered with your Winchesters until I
oass_through it. If any fellow shows up,
playing trap to my rat, and I don't smoke
him first, then you can salivatc him to save
my hide. Otherwise you‘re not to make a
break, not to make a sound, nor to show so
much as the tip-end of your nose out of
cover. Understand?”

“I reckon, boss; but it’s dug-gun tough
orders, all the same!”

“It is orders, all the same, though, and I
expect you to follow orders to the very letter,
Purkiss, Now—all ears open. both 0f you!

“I’m going in yonder, to find out just how
the land lies. You’ll wait here until I’m out
of sight for—call it five minutes. Then you
can steal down nearer the hole, but keep out-
side of it, unless I call.”

“ I-Iow’ll we know It’s you. boss?"

“ I’ll make racket enough so you can’t
well mistake,” wtth grim emphasis. “ If
you hear me shoot, 01‘ call, rush inside as
quick as the law allows, and act according to
your best judgment.

“ Ifyou neither hear nor see me inside of
two hours—well, you can know I’m either
a prisoner to yonder thugs,or else have taken
a final trip over the range!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

m

The 7 King-Fin Sport:

.._ v_ W”-.-_.._ , --A_.  ,‘._. .s... ...» .-...._

29

 

 

 

“Which we’ll play even, boss, cf it’s the
last thing we ever do!”

“ Some day, but not right now, pardner.
If I miss coming back inside of the two hours,
you fellows must rack out lively, heading for
Leadvillc, where you‘ll spread the news all
over town, and call for volunteers for a back-
trip. Hurry right here, then—do what you
like with the devils you may find, but take
good care of Miss Barbour and her father!”

Without pausing to give either of his allies
a chance for further cxpostulations, ’l‘en-
Strike Tom stole swiftly yet cautiously away
from that lurking-place, shaping his course
so as to win yonder masked adit with as little
loss of time as might be, while still keeping
in view the wisdom of covering that same
advance from possible watchers.

 

CHAPTER XXX.
“now WILL I Do, oooi) PEOPLE?”

UP to that moment Fanny Barbour had
seemed nothing more than a scared, trem-
bling, woe-crushed girl, afraid even to meet
those evil-glowing eyes; but with that harsh
speech came a sudden change.

She turned from father to enemy, face
flushing and eyes flashing with hot in-
dignation, mingled with scorn and con-
tempt.

“If that band could play your dirge, I'd
gladl join in with my voice, you vilest of
all vi e scoundrels!”

“What? Not only a tongue, but the
tongue of a genuine virago, tipped with
venom!" mocked the mask, yet clearly
taken by surprise in spite of that swift as-
sum tion.

“ . wish it wasl I wish my touch was
the rankest of all poisons! How cheerfully
wonvd I spring to your arms, you execrable
vihmnl"

h anny hardly knew what words passed her
lips. just then. She had been wrought up to
the pitch of madness by that pitiless demon
in human guise; and now, forgetting all pru-
dence, forgetting how terribly yonder Un-
known could avenge himself on the helpless
prisoner whom he had held under his relent.
less thumb for so many months of unceasing
torture, she thought only of showing the
monster how intense] he was loathed

With her first wor s she had broken from
the gloved bands which tore her awa from
her manacled parent, and the Maske Chief
made no real effort to retain his clasp, simply
moving far enough so he could, if he deemed
fit, check the infuriate girl in case she
should try to rejoin her father, who was now
fast~gripped by the muscular arms of Bascom
Hooper.

Laughing contemptuously, the Unknown
made a slight gesture which caused Hooper
to relax his clutch and fall back to his for-
mer position. Then the arch-schemer moved
aside himself, motiuning Fanny to join her
father if she saw fit.

With a choking sob, the maiden took ad-
vantage of that permission, heeding not, if
she suspected the truth—that their enemy
calculated on that arm-clasp to again weaken
her womanly resentment.

He sounded a sharp whistle, which was
presently answered in person by Jingles, to
whom the chief spoke:

“Fetch Wallace Gilmore this way, my
man. Pity to talk twice when once going
over can serve for all!”

The silence lasted through the brief in-
terval necessar for Jin les to carry out his
instructions. he chief seemed willing to
let that 10ving embrace work to his advan-
tage, and neither father nor daughter were
an too well fitted for speech, just then.

Singles had set free the feet of his cap-
tive, but thongs were still knotted at w’rists
and at elbows, while a handkerchief was
bound over Wallace Gilmore's mouth to serve
as 9. ga .

His bare head was roughened, his face
showed marks of madly dry blood, but the

oung man was able to stand alone, and
had walked, on his own feet, to that death-
chamber.

" You can standaside.JinglCS.”(10mmand-
ed the Mask, with a wave Lf his hand to-
ward the spot Where Bascom llooper now
stood in waiting, “If I need you, 1’11 let
you knowin ood time,”

,g'anny lift her face from the bosom of
her father as she heard that entrance, and a
faint sound, hammer“), hamsob came from

‘ v.‘ 1,;- ""‘5V  " 

a, y..¢, n, ca, ._ .

~ 5'

 

her pale lips as shereeognized her companion
of that luckiess attempt at flight.

“One more unfortunate!” mocked the Un-
known, ready as ever to enjoy the suffering
of others. “Still living, my dear girl, but
whether his life lease runs much further, de-
pends pretty much upon your will I"

“ Upon my—I don’t understand you,
sir!”

“I‘m going to brighten that understand-
ingr right now, my dear!" the voice growing
harder, even more pitiless if such a thing
could be "‘ Listen well, all of you, for I‘ve
brought the trio together that once telling
might serve cVery purpose.”

He paused, those glittering eyes roving
from face to face as though their owner
sought to learn each one’s weakest point be-
fore making his actual attack.

“To make everything clear as we proceed,
my dear friends, let me briefly allude to
Anson Barbour and his unfortunately fortu-
nate find!

“He fell into my power when I was a fair-
ly honest citizen, as the world goes nowa-
days. An accident to his starving broncho
crippled him to Some slight extent, and, like
the good Samaritan, I took him in—and now
I’m going to do for him!

“He paid me well for such little services
as I could render him; I freely accord him
that credit! But, he very foolishly told me
how wondrousl lucky he had been, after so
many years 0 hard and poorly-rewarded
labor; he said that he had stumbled upon a
vast gold~field, until then wholly unsuspect-
ed by any of the vast army of prospectors
for the twin metals silver and gold.

“ He showed me his little store of dust and
of nuggets; just a fair sample of the enor-
mous treasure which he had securely cached
near the scene of his recent labors, meaning
to leave it there until he could return in fit
condition for conveying it safely to Leadville.
And then—but I‘ve said enough!

“ Anson Barbour’s let'er, with a postscript
added by my hand, signed with the name I
had not used for years upon years, had gone
past my recovery; but Anson Barbour’s per-
son—ah! that was mine, now!”

“ You pitiless demon!” hoarsely cried the
captive prospector.

“ Ayl how pitiless you shall know right
now!” with a still more vicious energy en-
tering his muffled voice and glowing forth
from those twin holes in his sable mask.

“I’ve thousands of times sworn to let you
go, free and sound in both wind and limb.
Anson Barbour, if you’d only reveal to me
your golden secret. You obstinately refused,
but. now—confess, or both you and , our
dainty daughter shall pay the full pena tyl”

“ Not her—not my poor. innocent child!”

“Bid him defiance. father!” impetuously
cried the maiden. “ I’d soonerperish in your
arms than—”

“Than live in the leving arms of another
man ‘2” swiftly interrupted the arch-schemer.
“Ah ha, my daint bird! There are more
ways than one of illmg a eat! And unless
we’re to have a wholesale slaughtering in
here, there is but the one method of locking
lips left; all must be interested in keeping
our little secrets from the outside world!

“ As for you, Anson Barbour. a man who
could hold out as long as you have against
such powerful arguments as I brought to
bear, could and would keep his lips sealed
until the time limit expired.

“ As for this fair maiden, surely she would
do naughtthat could bring harm or shame to
the head of her legal lord and master!

“That simmers it down to the third and

last factor, which I’ll let wait just a bit,

longer, with your kindly permission, my be-
loved friendsl”

.So far in a tone of grim mockery, but nOW
his voice and manner altered again, words
coming swift and. fierce from behind that
black mask.

“Right there you have it, Anson Bar-
bour! Show me where your gold is melted,
or_I ll kill you by the worst tortures human
mind ever invented!
firm commands to marry with the groom I
have in waiting for her, or see her suffer a
thousand-fold worse fate! Do these two
things, or—pay the full penalty!”

Where he had stubbornly withstood all
efforts at winning his golden secret when
only his own life was menaced, Anson Bar-
bour lost that marvelous nerve now that

Give this girl your'

, never turned her way—then.

‘harréi was threatened his beloved and only
Chil .

“Spare her—do what you like With me,
you devil! l’m old—I can stand it—but she
is— Let my darling go free—”

“ Stop, father!" passionately cried Fanny,
one hand closing over those brokenly plead-
ing lips. “Rather death by torture than
stoop so low as to plead to such a miserable
wret ch 1”

But for once Anson Barbour struggled
against his own child, and lifting his head,
turning it past her reach, he huskin added;

“ I’ll tell you all! I'll show you my gold,
only let my child go free! Let me know
past doubting that she is free, safe and un
harmed, and that minute I'll tell all you’ve
tried so long to find out!”

“She shall go free as soon as I see her
legally a wife, Barbour!”

“ Whom do you mean?
you mean to—”

"How will I do, good people?” rung
forth a clear, half-mocking voice.

CHAPTER XXXI.
“naxns ('1', on DIE, YOU DOG!”

THE voice was that of Ten-Strike Tom,
and as he spoke those words he sprung light-
ly forward from darkness into light, right
arm coming into play the instant he gained
the proper distance

Fairly upon that black-hooded head de-
scended the heavy pistol-butt, driven by
muscles nervcd for the occasion, and with a
smothered groan the Masked Unknown
fell in a quivering heap to the earthen
floor. '

The King-Pin Detective was already train-

Where is the man

 

‘ ing sights on those dimly visible forms back

of the two captives. and now, as he swiftly
reversed grips on that useful weapon, fore.
finger slipping into the trigger-guard, he
cried out, to Bascom Hooper:

“Hands up, or die, you dog!”

But— , ‘

With a sound which. though muffled and
far from distinct, could hardly be mistaken
for anything else save a curse of savage mg:
and hatred, Wallace Gilmore flung himself
heavily against Gaywortby, unable to deal 1
blow with hand or wrapon became of his
bonds, but making his assault so fierce that
the balance of this bold intruder was de-
stroyed.

With a startled cry. Ten-Strike Tom stag
gered. his foot catching against the body
of his first victim, causing him to pitch
headlong to earth. one of his pistols explod-
in with the shock!

om Hooper gave a harsh yell of ex-
cited joy, jerking forth his gun as he sprung
forward, sending a shot in advance of his
coming.

“Down him, pard! Don’t let—

An answering flash came from nearer the
1 ground level, and up flew these arms, pistol
! falling from unnerved fingers, a harsh and
i choking groan escaping the lips of the death-
! smitten outlan
[ And. almost like a prolongation of that
1 same fiash, a second cartridge exploded, the
i bullet catching Jingles just as that worthy
I made his first move to back up his more
; active comrade.

As he shot, Ten Strike Tom rolled over

g once more, then sprung to his feet as then h

tossed upward by the powerful spring oga

cunning stage-trap, facing the hampered man

who had so nearly sent him down to meet his
death at those evil hands.

.“Steady, or I’ll blow you through!” he
cried, sternly, as his guns covered that strug-
gling figure—struggling now to burst or to
‘ slip arms out of these bonds.

Until then both Anson Barbour and his
daughter. Fanny, had remained as though
completely spellbound, neither stirring nor
crying aloud.

The manacled miner, as a matter of course,
had no means of knowing whether this dash-
ing new comer was really friend or foe, while
j the maiden was too intensely surprised for
hasty speech.

But now, as full recognition came. a cry
of joyous hepe burst from her lips, and her
arms fell away from the neck of her parent
for the moment.

A hot flush flew into the face of the King—
Pin Detective at that sound, but his eyes
They were
glowing vividly, and his lips curled back far

I

 

Ah-h-h !’

A...

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' 741:, i ..

- - a; -A‘h»
s

  

 

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" ‘h in-Pin spars"

 

 

\\
enough to show his gleaming teeth as he
spoke again:

“ It‘s you, you tricky devil

He leaped forward, hand and foot acting
in unison, both sending Wallace Gilmore
grim; across the senseless body of the Masked

re .

"Who comes next?" recklessly cried the
King-Pin Detective, pressing heavily with
one foot upon the back of the bound man,
pistols ready for use in case of need, his dark
eyes flashing boldly around in quest of still
other foemen.

“ I‘Iyar we come, boss!”

“ That’s what!"

Vince Purkiss and his human shadow
called forth in cheery encouragement as they
came through that dark and narrow passage,
and with them to back him up, Ten-Strike
Tom felt that the battle was as good as
won.

“ Whar is he? Whar’s the cuss as jolted
me two eyes black?” harshly cried the Den-
ver tough as he came into view of that
tableau. ‘ “ Show ’im to me, boss! Jest show
’im to me, an’ ef I don't—whar is he, then?"

“Steady, mate!" sternly commanded the
Detective Sport as he saw the maiden shrink
in renewed fright at this sudden outburst
“ Time enough for— Ilark !”

From the direction of the mountain shack
there came sounds as of sudden warfare;
sounds of fire-arms, with other fainter and
less distinct echoes which might have been
human voices lifted in fierce anger.

“Steady, mates!” repeated Ten-Strike
Tom, but with a different meaning to the
same words, now. “If that means a rush of
whelps like these, you want to play break—
water until this lady—”

“The heaper in a heap they come the bet-
ter—eh, Dan ‘2"

“ That‘s what!"

Ten~Strike Tom sprung across to where
Jingles crouched in a moaning heap of
wounded fright, one hand fiercely clutching
sbc'fltler while its mate shoved pistol muzzle
fair!" between his eyes, sternly asking:

'- here's the rest of the outfit? Who’s in
here besides you ducks?” .
“ Nary critter, boss, fer—— Don’t shoot!”

“Where are the rest, then? Talk white,
or 01! goes your roof !”

“ Boss done sent ’em back to the shack-—
hepe may die ef ’tain’t jest that-a-way,
boss!” -

“ How many in all? Lie, and I’ll kill you
like a mad wolf t”

“ Three—jest three, now!

P?

Hope may'die

' ef—jest three, boss!”

Ten Strike Tom felt fairly convinced this
frightened knave was speaking the truth, and
only lingering long enough to tear away his
belt of arms, tossing them over to Dan
Mixon, he sternly warned:

“ Lie quiet, or you’ll cut your own throat!
Now—boys?”

“Right on deck we be; eh, Dan?”

“ That’s what!”

“Seems as though the circus was over, up
yonder, but there’s no telling what comes
next until it’s fairly in sight. So —— take
station out yonder with your guns ready;
halt anybody you sight coming this way, but
don’t shoot without first giving warning.
Understand?”

“ Waal, I reckon! Eh, Dan?”

“ That’s what!” once more came that vocal
echo, and the two pards from Leadville stole
away from the limited region of light, ready
for whatever might come their way.

Ten-Strike 'I‘om took a glance to assure
himself Wallace Gilmore had not won his
freedom from those bonds, then for the first
time felt himself at liberty to actually greet
the maiden in whose behalf he had run such
risk, and—as her glad, grateful cry broke
forth at his coming, the King-Pin Detective
shoved pistols out of sight, putting his hands
to far better use—in his own estimation!

Those hands closed upon the maiden‘s
shoulders, drawing her still agitated figure
close against his breast, and if that wasn't a
warm, lover-like kiss—well, then the faint
echoes told a scandalous lie!

None too soon, either!

Had the gallant Sport delayed throu h in-
decision or a sudden access of bashfu ness,
that kiss would never have been taken and

iven, for only an instant later there came to

' ears the sharp challenge:

“Easy, that, you! Show cause, or durned

 

ef ye hain't got into a turrible sighto' trouble,
now!” .
“ That’s what!”

“Flag 0’ truce, gents!” rumbled forth a
voice the like of which could come from
only one pair of lungs in the whole silver
country.

“ We‘re hon your side hot the war, gents!”
shrilled another voice in ludicrous contrast.
“ We’ve cleaned bout the gang, hup yender,
hand now want to 'elp the boss down ‘erel”

“The Siamese Twins!” cried Ten-Strike
Tom, adding swiftly: “Hold ’em level,
lads, but don’t shoot!”

CHAPTER XXXII.
JlJS’l‘ as IT WOULD iii-z.

WITH those warning words, Gayworthy
let fall an encouraging whisper to reunited
father and daughter, then moved off toward
the spot where the Leadville pards had taken
position, and where he found them easily
holding the “ Siamese Twins" level.

There was not much to be seen of either
form or feature there in that gloom, but Ten-
Strike Tom never for an instant doubted the
identity of the twain; no other couple in that
entire region could boast of such strongly-
eontrasting voices.

” You know me, fellows,” sternly greeted
the King-Pin Detective as he drew nigh.
“ Now—how come ye here ‘3”

“Lookin’ fer the reward you offered to
pay for that dug-gun H. K. Jones, be course!"
rumbled the fat man.

“If ou’re trying any more of your dirty
tricks, ’11—”

“ Cross me 'eart, sir!” squealed the tall fel-
low, with a touch of indignation in his tones
as he added: “Ilif you don’t believe hus,
take ha bit hof a trip hup to the ’ouse, yen-
der! Hif we didn’t punch the bloody stuflin’
hout hof them bloomink coves, then M
wouldn't as so!”

“ Waal, should re-mark!” chimed in
Harry Kane, tersely. “ We laid out three
of ’em—laid ’em out too cold fer skin‘nin’,
boss!”

Ten-Strike Tom hesitated for a brief space,
his brain working rapidly, the result making
itself known in these words:

“ If ou’re playing white, you’d ought to
be wilfing to prove your words, fellows.
Will you go show us those three cripples,
then ?”

“ Wh wouldn’t we, boss?”

“ Ho course we’re willink, yer H’onor.”

“All right. Mates, follow these gentle-
men back to the cabin they say they came
from. If'they try to give you the slip, or if

' they lead you into a trap, blow their brains

out!”

The King Pin Sport turned back to the
earth-chamber where he had left both friends
and foes, giving a cheery salutation to the
fair maid the dew of whose sweet lips still
seemed to linger upon his own, then turning
to Wallace Gilmore, who had succeeded in
gaining his own footing once more, but
whose arms still remained helplessly ham-
pered.

“Steady, Sport! I’ve got a bone or two
to pick with you, later on, but for now—stand
steady, and don‘t take such another stagger
just forzthc purpose of jolting me out of the
ring!" -

That handkerchief had been rubbed off
from over those lips, and now Gilmore mut-
tered something: just what, Gayworthy
never heeded, for he was stooping low to roll
that dark shape over upon its back, then
tearing away the sable mask which had until
now hi'lden that visage.

Ten-Strike Tom had been looking for a
surprise, but what he now saw proved even
more astonishing than he had anticipated.
For, as the mask came ofl’, he recognized the
arch-schcmcr, sharply ejaculating:

“The deacon, by glory!"

And so it was! “Deacon Rankin Ballinger
was “ Daddy Markle,” was “the boss," was
the Masked Chief, was—none other than the
long-sought Ii. K. Jones!

 

There was one hardly less important dis-
covery made by Ten-Strike Tom at nearly
the same moment of his unmaskin‘g the arch-
plotter; that was whither the bullet so hur-
riedly fired by Bascom Hooper, intending it
for yonder tumbling enemy whom Wallace
Gilmore had so audacioust upset, had gone.

 

“ "aware. -.,  w '- ‘

That shot passed entirely through the body
of the man in the mask, and he only recover-
ed his senses to realize that his earthly course
was wellrnigh run.

When this was made clear to him, the dar-
ing trickster confessed all to Gay worthy and
his friends; including the L'adville partis,
the Siamese Twins, father and daughter, as
well as the still bound Wallace Gilmore.

He told how he had been tempted by the
display of gold-dust and nuggets made to
him as “ Daddy Markle,” by Anson Barbour
who likewise let fall something of his having
cached a fortune 011' yonder in the as yet gen-
erally unsuspected gold fields.

He told how he kept the miner chained
in this cunningly masked retreat, torturing
him every week, sometimes every day of the
week, in the vain attempt to make him con-
fess wherc his gold was hidden.

At first the criminal refused to speak of
Corse l’ayson, but after Anson Barbour ex-
plained how he had contrived to communicate
with that “lid, reckless, yet fairly honest
fellow, giving him a hastily-scrawled note
to deliver to the legal authorities, Jones
gave way, telling without scruple, but rather
as though he enjoyed the retniniscrtnce, how
he had hunted the fugitive, finally sending
him to his death across the threshold of the
Good Luck Saloon.

Dropping his Winchester, tearing off the
false beard which he was wont of late days
to wear as the mountain hermit, “Daddy
Markle,” Jones fled to knock down Vincent
Purkiss as that stalwart tough barred his way
to escape. Then—well, as “ Deacon "Rankin
Ballingcr the assassin returned to join in the
vain hunt for—himself!

And then, hcedless of the execrationl
showered upon him, Jones told of the cum-
ning 7'0/0 played by Wallace Gilmore, who
he as freely admitted was in reality his own
son.

Told how Jake Dobson gave Gilmore the
opportunity which he so neatly improved;
told how Gilmore helped Hooper decoy the
maiden out of town, then pretended to be
dead, to be carried off as a corpse, to eventu-
ally reappear before the maiden (and heiress)
as an heroic protector!

It was all made so clear! The miserable
wretch was so thoroughly expOSed! And
then—well, with Bascom Hooper stone dead,
with Jingles a cripple for life, with on!
one living of the lawless trio caught off their
guard at the shack by the Siamese Twins,
and with the villain dying who so neatl

“jolted " him between the eyes—w hy wouldn t ‘

Vince Purkiss and his pard hugely enjoy
booting the exposed trickster clean out of
that section?

No reasnn at all, and that is precisely what
they did,-too!

Hooper had not felt one of those savage
blows dealt by “'allaee Gilmore, but the
hard earthen iloor bore the deep dents, when
Ten-Strike Tom looked for them!

The archvplotter died without seeing the
sunlight again, and his body was left there
in the earth-chamber, together with that of
his benchman, Bascom Hooper,

The friends safely reached Leadville,
where Anson Barbour quickly rallied his
bodily powers, soon looking like a new man
altogether. And, guided by a little map
which he drew, Ten-Strike Tom, with the
Leadville I’ards and the Siamese Twins,
found no serious difficulty in recovering the
hidden fortune which had cost the long-
missing miner so dearly.

Paying off the Twins, and leaving a com-
fortable (loIH't’VII' in the honest if soap-washy
palm of Biddy McCarthy, Thomas Gay-
worthy turned back on the Carbonate
(lamp, facing for Denver as their next
station on the long but happy trip back to
Ohio.

And when there?

Well, the King Pin Sport repeated that
audacious kiss more than_opce, and finally
won Fanny’s consent to g1v1ng Anson Bar-
bour a son—by way of the church!

On their wedding tour. the happy couple

.passed through Denver, stopping long

enough for Gayworth . to see Jake Dobson,
thanks to whose adrnional confession he
had been able to find Daddy Markle’s cabin,
as well as that secret adit. And when the

bridal couple left, the Denver Tramp had i '

pocket full of yellow coin!
THE END.

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BEADLE’S*DIME* IBRARY.

Published Every iVednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Umform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers.

 

 

BY JOSEPH E. BADGER. Jll.
.29 Old Sobersides. the Detective of St. Louis.
925 White-Horse \thelci'. t'ie Rcveuue Detective.
'918 The Double Edge 1 Detec ive.
907‘ Maverick Mark. the Man from Nowhere.
89.“ Silky ~s‘teele. the Stay-in Sport.
6'81 T e S miter—Sport s N etc-Tie Party.
870 Higli- Vater Mai-k; or. Silver-Tip Sid.
862 Riatu Rob the Range Champion.
855 The (3 Mliov Chief's Sure-S lot.
849 The Rival Red-Hat Sports.
3‘57 Curly Kid. the Cheyrnne Sport.
824 The Soft Hand Dettctive.
815 The. Soft Hand‘s Clutch.
7409 Dan Dunn. the Soft-Hand Spm t,
796 Tue Frisco Detectlve’s 'l‘llug-Tanglc.
3189 Sam Cary. the River Sp rt.
780 he Dead Sport’s Double.
771 Prince John. Detective specinr

 Dandy Didi. the Denver Detective.
1.;1 ihe Man t‘iom 'l'cxas; or. Dangerfield, the

Doctor Detective.
714 Su'cepstakcs Sam, the Silver Sport.
720 The Secret SiX' or, O.d Halcyon.
712 The Man of Sii '.
705 Bantam Bob. the Beauty from Butte.
693 Kent Kasson, [he Preacher Sport.
683 Bob Breeze. the Rounder 1’1 tective.
67.5 Steel Surry, the Sport fr m Sunrise.
668 Solemn Saul‘s Luck Str. ak
661 The Get-There Sharp.
651 Silveriip St vc, the Sky Scraper from Siskiyou.
61.") (loplier (tube. the UllSt‘Uli Detective.
636 Dandy Darling, Detective.
 llossback Mose, the Menu aineer.
(517 The Grip Sack Sharp's liven up.
597 Big Bandy, the Brigadier of Brimstone Butte.
588 Sandy Sands. the Sharp t'rom Snap City.
576 Silver-Tongued Sid: or. (trip Sack Sharps Sweep.
564 The Grip-Sack Shin p; or. The Scraplisot'Sodom.
655 Grip Sack Sid. the S:_ii:pl.~ Sport.
517 The lillli"(1 Detective: tl‘. Sa 1‘s Six Sensations.
Ml Major Magnet. the Man of Nerve,
535 Dandy Dutch. the i)(‘(:nl'ill.(>l' from Dead-Lift
.o 2' Dandy Andy. the Diamond I): tectivm
514 Gabe Gun 1. the Uri?le from Ginseng.
501 Solemn Saul. the Sad Man from San Saba.
495 Rattlepate Rob; or. The Rouudliead’s Reprisal
488 The Thor: hbred Sport.
474 Daddy Des. -Eyc, the Desnot o! Dew Drop.
466 Old Rough and Ready, the Sage of Sundown
458 Dutch Dan. the Pilgrim from Spitzcnberg.
443 A Cool Hand; or, Pistol Johnny's Picnic.
4'18 Oklahoma Nick
433 Laughing Leo; or. Sam ‘5; Dandy Pard.
426 The Ghost Detective: or. The Secret Service Spy.
416 Monte Jim. the Black Sheep of Bismarck.
409 Rob Roy Ranch: or, The linps 01‘ Pan Handle.
41):; The NiuneleSs Sport.
39.") Derdly Aim. the Duke of Derringers.
387 D irk Du . the Ishmael of the Hills.
372 Captain gi'isp. the Man with a Record.
367 A Royal Flush: or. Dan Brown‘s liig Game.
‘860 Jumping Jerry, the Gamecock from Sundown.
355 Stormv Steve. the Mad Athlete.
851 Nor‘ West Nick. the Border Detective.
345 Masked Mark. the Mounted Detective.
3‘39 Spread Eagle Sam. the Hercules Hide Hunter.
:131 Cliispa Charley. the Gold N ugget Sport.
317 Frank Liglitfoot. the Miner Detective.
292 Moke. Homer. the Boss Roustabout.
286 Pistol Johnny; or. Ore Man in a Thousand.
 Sleek Sam. the DeVil of the Mines. 1
257 Death Trap Diggings: 01‘. A man ‘Way BECK
219 Elephant Tom. of Duranzo.
‘24] Spitfire Saul. King of the Rustleis.
 The Old l=o_v of Tombstone.
2111 Pirate of the Pincers: or, Joaquin's Death Hunt
180 Old ‘49: or. The Amazon of Arizona.
170 Sweet William. the Trapper Detective.
165 Joaquin. the Terrible .
154 Joaquin, the Saddle King.
141 Equinox Tom. the Bul'y of Red Rock.
119 Alabama Joe: or. The Yazoo Man-Hunters.
105 Dali Brown of Denver: or. The Detective.
88 Big: George; or. The Five Outlaw Brothers.
71 Captain Cool Blade: or. Mississippi Man Shark.
(,7 Th” 50‘. JOCK...“ or, lioiiesly vs Crookedness.
50 Jack Rabbit, the Prairie Sport.
BY “'61. (ii. PA'I‘TEN.
$10 FireEye. the Thug‘s Terror.
.795 Old Night-Hawk, the Crook Shadower.
769 The Prin e of New York Crooks.
756 Old Burke. the Madison Square Detective.
747 Double-voice Dan‘s Donbh Disguise.
715 Double-Voice Dan on Deck.
:02 Double-Voica Dan, the Always on-Deck Detective
696 Doubl:--Voice Dan, the Go-it Alone Detective.
889 The Sparkle: Sharp.
676 Hurricane Hal. the Cowboy I-Iotspur.
063) Old True Blue. the Trusty. ‘
 The Giant S )"rrt; or, Sold to Sam“.
656 Oil Par: l div. the Rush and Ready.
618 Gold Glove Gi 1. 1h!- Mun of Grit,
641 Aztec Jack. the Desi rt Nomad.
(331 (‘ “mm (‘1) ii. the Santa Fe Sharp.
80 Ca itain Nmiinh s»‘ the Mountain Mystery.
571 Oil Dismal. the Horn; Detective,
545 Hustlfl. Harry. the (‘owhoy Sport.
BY GEORGE C. JENKS-

910 The Arizona 1) to tin‘. ‘

894 Silver Sam. the Shasta Sport.

880 The Silver Sport’s D >l1Di1-‘.

668 The Race-C Var-c I) tecllvc.

856 The Hayseed Detective. _

772 Cu tain Cordon, the Twister Detective.

755 \\'i d P te the Brouclio Buster DQtGCthP- i
7% FearleSs Sam. the Grand Combinan Detect V9.
719 Boston Bob. the S rt Detective.

572 Jaunty Joe, the ockey Detective.

54 Mad Sharp, the Rustler I

388 Rube Rocket. the Tent Detective.
'526 Death—Grip, the Tenderfoot Detective.

501 The Drummer Detective.

432 The Giant Horseman

$8 Sleepless Eye. the Pacific Detective. -.

N

 

BY \VILLIAIVI n. EYS'I‘ER.

916 Two Dead—Square Sports.

9112 Soft. Velvet. the Man from Sandrock.

891 Gentcel Jim. Sportratlaiige.

881 The Clubmaii-t‘rook‘s Cat's-paw.

867 The Frisco Sport.

852 The Stranger S )ort‘s Shake~up.

828 Kirk King. the, . ian from Kirby.

818 Gentleman Dave, the Dead Game Sport

733 The King-Pin Tramp.

767 The Sport of bilver Bend.

’i’lh‘ Unce liedrock‘s Big Bounce.

707 The Rival Rovers.

637 Double Cinch Dan. the Spt rt With a Charm.

' 7 Mr. Jackson, the Gent from Jaybim.

659 Gilt-Edge. Johnny: or. Roldan and His Rovers.
650 Lucky Lester’s Lune Hand.

634 Old iiandcart‘s Big Dump.

622 Th:- All Around Sports.

603 Deser. Alf. the Man With the Cougar.

590 (leutleJack, the High Roller from Humbug.
Seven Shot Steve. the Sport with a Smile.
568 The Dude. Detective.

55S Hurrah Harry. the High Horse from Halcyon.
519 Bclsuazzar Brick, the Baillt’t of Blue Blazes.
533 Oregon. the Sport \\ it‘ll aScar.

503 The Dude from Denvri‘.

478 Pinnacle. Pete: or. The Fool from Way Back.
459 Major Sunshine. the Man of Three Lives.

4729 Hair Trigger 'l‘oin ot' Ito d l'end.

402 Snapshot, Sam: 0r. 'l'iic Atiuels‘ Flat Racket.
2196 The Piper Defectivi ; or. The Gilt Edge Gang.
375 Royal Henri-{0. the Three in Hue.

"" ’l‘hr e llaudsonie Sports; or, The Combination.
w.» Derringer Dick. the Man with the Drop.

265' )la'ric Mike “ic Man of Frills.

N Captain (‘u‘sh eye; or. The. Little Sport.

211 Tm ’1‘.'.o Cool Sports: or. (hi'tie oi“ the Gulch.
182 Hands Up; or. The Knights of the Canyon.

160 Sot't lland. Sharp: or. Th ‘ Man with the Sand.
145 l’istol l’ards; or, The Silent Sport from Cinnabar

“Y NED BITN'I‘LINE.

657 Long Tom. the Privateer.

633 The Sea Spy.

621 The Red Privateer; or. The Midshipman Rover.

591 Fire Feather. the Buccaneer King.

517 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail.

361 Tombstone Dick. the. Train Pilot.

122 Saul Sabberday. the Idiot Spy. '

111 The Smuggier Captain; or. The Skipper‘s Crime.
18 The Sea Bandit; or, The Queen of the Isle.
16 The White Wizard; or. The Seminole Prophet.

BY JACKSON KNOX—“Old Hawk.”

838 Old Grips Still Hunt.

827 Detecthe. \‘mldrn‘s Web.

7‘7 The Butler Detective' or. Old Grip's Grip

77‘) The Showman Dete 1 ve.

762 Old Grip. the Deective.

’1 Capt in Clew, the Fighting Detective.

732 The Hurricane DetectiVe.

643 Castleniaine, the Silent Sifter.

616 Magnus. the Weird Detective.

606 The Drop Detective.

595 \Vellborn. the Upper Crust Detective.

582 Jorn m. the Detective Expert.

.574 Old Falcon‘s Double.

561 The Thug King" or, The Falcon Detective's Foe.
548 Falcouhridge. the Sphinx Detective.

536 Old Falcon 8 Foe: or. The DeteCtive's Swell Job.
515 Short-Stop Maje. the Diamond Field Detective.
509 Old Futon. tho Thunderbolt Detective.

501 S i'intrstecl Steve, the Retired Detective.

491 T c Detective’s Spy. .

485 Rowlock. the Harbor Detective.

477 Dead-arm Brandt.

457 Mainwaring. the. Salamander.

462 The Circus Detective.

451 Griplock. the Rocket Fetective.

444 The Magic Detective; or, 'i he Hidden Hand.

424 Hawk Heron’s Deputy.

386 Hawk Hero". the Falcon Detective.

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BY J. (i. CO‘VDIIICK.

752 The Siis r‘ct. S )or‘ of Daisv Drift.

6‘36 Ducats ion, tile Nubob Sport Detective.

612 Sheritf Stillwoed. the Regulator of Raspberry.
598 The Dominic Detective.

. Duke Daniels. the Sheet}; Detective,

5‘90 Shadowing a Shadow.

56.“) Priuc- Paul. the l" stuian Detective.

.337 The Mountain (:raylr ards; or. Riddles‘ Riddle.
319 Old Riddles, the Rocky Ranger

199 Twilight Charlie. the Road Sport.

47:1 Hilbert. ot'<,1oi,i.aiii. the Steel-arm Detective.
4.3:! Rainbow Roll. the Tulip from Texas.

43.; I{(kn[l_]('k.\' Ji-fltl. the Sport: it“ .in Yellow Pii e.
422 Blue Grass Run. the (told Star Detective.

390 The. Giant Cupid: or (‘ibuta John‘s Jubilee.

“Y ED‘VAIID \"ILLE'I‘T.

483 Flush Fred. the River Sharp.

368 The Canyon King; or. a Price on his Head.

348 Dan Dillon. King of CI'OSSCllt.

337 Old Gabe, the Mountain Tramp.

3;”; gen-gain Dick}; thlelWildwood Detective.

. i as ‘I'OC 's on ) e; or, The uatters’ Lea e
368 Hemlock Hank. Tough and Tistile. gu
296 L 2201' Lem: or. Life in the Pine Woods.

289 Flush Fred‘s Full Hand.

274 Flush Fred. the Mississip i Sport.

248 Montana Nat. the Lion 0. Last Chance Camp.
222 Bill the Blizzard; or. Red Jack‘s Crime.

209 Brick Farley. the Bonanza Prince.

129 Mississippi Mose: or. a Strong Man‘s Sacrifice.

BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID.

$7 The White Squaw.

284 The Hunter’s Feast.

211 The Wild Huntress; or. The Squatter.

200 The Rifle Rangers; or. Adventures in Mexico.
74 The Captain of the Rifles; or. The Lake ueen.
66 The Specter Barque. A Tale of the Pact c.

55 The Scalp Hunters. A Romance oi! the Plains.

b
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BY COL. PREN'I‘ISS INGRAHAM.

911 The Blue Blockader; or. The Coast Grayhound.

906 The Cuban Cmiser.

8.34 Tue Ocean Gipsv.

834 't he Wild Steer Riders; or, Texas Jack‘s Terrors.

819 The Rival Monte Cristos.

805 The Last of the Pirates: er. Dov. m Driven.

801 The Water \Volws' Detective; or. Trapping the
Grate Ghouls.

791 The Coast-Raider‘s Death Chase.

748 Arizona (‘ltar‘ie. ire (‘rai-k-si-ot Detective.

704 lnvisinle lvan. the Wizard De tecrive.

The Red-skin Sea Rover.

679 vaello, the Pirate Cruiser; or. The Rival Rovers

67:! The Red Rapier; or. The St a Rover‘s Bride.

662 The Jew Detective: or, The Beautiful Convict.

610 Tue Rov r’s Rtt ihutien.

61') The Ex But-cane r. i r. The Stigma of Sin.

6225 Red Wings; or. The Gold St ekers of the Bahamas.

61" The Three iiccanecrs.

610 ’I he Red Flag Row r; or,White Wings of the Deep.

605 The Shadow Silver Ship.

6”!) 'l he Silver Ship: ( r. The Sea Scouts of ’76.

59:5 The Sea Rebel: or. lied Rovers of the Revolution.

5*? Conrad. the Sailor Spy; or. True IIeaits of ‘76.

5*] File Otltltlwrtl Skipper; or, The Gaiitlct Runner.

5360 The Man from Mexico.

5.33 llak Monte. the Mutiueer: or. The Branded Brig.

516 T?" Doomed Whaler: or. The Life Wreck.

5'30 The Savages of the Sea.

5:34 The Sea Chaser: or. The Pirate Noble.

510 El Moro, th» Corsair Commodore.

493 The Scouts ot‘ the Sea.

457 The Sea Insurgent : or. The (‘onspirator Soti.

446 Ocean Ogre. the Outcast Corsair.

43?: The One-Armed Buccaneer.

4:10 The Fatal Frigate; or. Rivals in Love and Was.

399 The N cw Monte Cristo.

393 The Convict Captian.

377‘ Atioat and Ashore: or. The Corsair Conspirator.

369 The Coast. Corsair: or. The Siren of the Sea.

361 The Sea Fugitive: or. The Queen of the Coast.

311 The Sea Desperado.

336 The Magic Snip' or. Sandy Hook Frecbooters.

3:5 The (lciitlenrm Pirate: or. The Casco Hermits.

318 The lndian izuccaneer: or. The Red Rovers.

307 The Phantom Pirate; or. The Water Wolves.

255 The Pirate Priest: or. The Gam oler‘s Dau hter.

246 Queen Helen. the Amazon of the Overlan

235 Red Lightning the. Man of Chance.

234 Black Beard. the Buccaneer.

220 The Specter Yacht; or, A Brother‘s Crime.

210 Buccaneer Bess. the Lioness of the Sea.

305 The Gambler Pirate; or. Lady of the Lagoon.

198 The Skeleton Schooner: or. The Skimmer.

184 The Scarlet Schooner: or. The Sea nemesis.

104 Montezuma. the Merciless.

103 Merle, the Mutineer; or. The Red Anchor Brand.

BY PHILIP S. WARNE.

m2 Dan Dirk King of No Man’s Land.
583 Captain Adair. the Cattle King.
567 Captain Midnight. the Man of Craft.
544 The Back to Back Pards.
522 The Chain ion Three.
502 Bareback uck, the Centaur of the Plains.
47: Six Foot Si; or, The Man to “ Tie To."
431 California Kit. the Always on Band.
401 Silver Sid; or. A “ Daisy " Bluff.
380 Tiger Dick‘s Pied e: or, Tne Golden Serpent.
359 Yellow Jack. the Iestizo.
838 Jack Sands. the Boss of the Town.
299 Three of a Kind; or. Dick. Despard and the Sport.
251 Tiger Diok vs. iron Despard.
207 Old Hard Head: or. Whirlwind and his Mare.
171 Tiger Dick. the Man of the Iron Heart.
114 The Gentleman from Pike.
3) A Man of Nerve; or. Caliban the Dwarf.
54 Always on Hand; or. The. Foot-Hills Sport.
29 Tiger Dick. Faro King; or. The Cashier’s Crime.
4 The Kidnapprr; or. The Northwest Shanghai.

BY CAPTAIN DIAIIK \VILTON.

.23 Hotspur Huxli: or. The Banded Brothers.
311 Heavy Hand: or. The Marked Men.

305 Silver-Plated Sol, the. Montana Rover.

291 Horseshoe Hank. the Man of Big Luck.

285 Lightning Bolt. the Canyon Terror._

276 Texa Chick. the Soutlnvcst Detective.

271 Stonei‘ist, of Big Nugget Bend. _

266 Leopard Luke the King of Horse-Thieves.
263 Iron-Armed Abe, the Hunchl ack Destroyer
258 Bullet Head. the Colora'p Bravo.

237 Long-Ilaire i Max; or, The Hook Lea e.
2!? Buckshot Ben, the Man-Hunter i-i’ Ida 10.

2‘3! Canyon Dave, the Man of the Mountain.

219 The Scorpion Brothers; or. Mad Tom’s Mission
20? Cactus Jack. the Giant Guide.

191 Don Sombrero. the California Road Gent.

176 Lady Jaguar. the Robber Queen.

81' OLL COOMES.
619 Kit Bandy & Co , the Border Detectives.
14S One-Armed Alf. the Giant Hunter.
99 The, (liant Rilleinan: or. Wild Camp Life.
43 Dakota Dan. the Reckless Ranger.

“Y COL. THOMAS H. MONSTERI.

236 Champion Sam: or. The Monarchs of the Snow
150 E1 Ruhio Bravo. King of the Swordsmen.

BY DR. NOEL DUNIIAR.
919 The Sea Scout; or. The Patriot Privateer.
M The King of Crook s. .
858 Number One. the Dead-set Detective.
850 The Planter Detective.
7‘30 Duke Despard. the Gambler Duelist.
604 The Detective in Rags: or, The Grim Shadoth
500 The True-Heart Pards.

4 new issue are"; Wednesday
Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale 1) fl
Newsdealers, ten cents per copy. or sent by m a
receipt of twelve cents each.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pomsnns.
08 Within: Sn, N" Yell.

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at.

BEADLE’SrDIMErflBRARY.

Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers.

 

BUFFALO BILL NOVELS.
By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

950 Buffalo Bill at Bay.
943 Buffalo Bill's Block Game.
936 Buffalo Bill s Black l’ard.
927 Buffalo Bill‘s Bluti'; or, i)u~‘ky Dick the Snort.
921 Buffalo Bill‘s ()uan'lnry: or. Velvet Bill‘s Vow.
915 Buffalo Bill and the Surgeon Scout.
909 Buffalo Bill’s Leonie: or. Red Butterfly.
904 Buffalo Bill‘s 'laziglr-d ’I rail.
900 Buffalo Bill‘s Pough Riders.
895 Buffalo Bill‘s Secret Ally.
890 Buffalo Bill‘s Life Stake.
882 The Three Bills: illlT‘dill 1 ill Wild Billand Band—
box Bill: or. The Bravo in Broadcloth.
74 Buffalo ' ill’s Buckskin Braves. -
869 Buffalo Bill‘s Road-Am-nt Round-up.
863 Buffalo Bill's Dea ll Charm.
857 Buffalo Bill’s Royal Flush.
851 Buffalo Bill‘s l‘onbie Dilemma.
845 Buffalo Bill‘s Redskin Ruse.
830 Buffalo Bill‘s Bms in Blue.
826 Buffalo Bill‘s Sharp Shooters.
22 Buffalo Bill’s Best Bower.
816 Buffalo Bi‘l‘s Red Trail.
812.Bu1falo Bill‘s Death-Kiiell.
79-1 Buffalo Bill‘s Winning Hand.
7'87 Buffalo Bill‘s Dead Shot.
781 Buffalo Bill's Brand.
777 Buffalo Bill’s Spy Shadowcr.
769 Buffalo Bill‘s Sii’eepstch.
76') Biffaio Bill‘s llrzen: or, Silk Ribbon Sam.
761 Buffalo Bill’s Mascot.
75.~ Buffalo Bill’s Double.
7:’ Buffalo Bill‘s lug Ft nrzor. (‘uster‘s Shadow.
743 Buffalo Bill's Flush Hand.
739 Buffalo Bill's Blind: or. The Masked Driver.
735 Buffalo Bill and His Merry Men. '
731 Buffalo Bill‘s Beages: or, Silk Lasso Sam.
727 Buffalo Bid's Bodv Guard.
722 Buffalo Bill on the \Var- lath.
716 Buffalo Bill's Scout Shut owers.
710 Buffalo Bill Baffle d: or. The Deserter Desperado.
697 Buffalo llill’s Buckskin Brotherhood.
691 Buffalo Bill’s Illilld Trail; or. Mustang Madge.
667 Buffalo Bill‘s Snoop; or. The King of the Mines.
658 The Cowb 7v Clan: or, The 'l igress of Texas.
653 Lass.) King‘s League: or, Buck Taylor in Texas.
649 Buffalo Bill‘s Chief of Cowboys; 01'. Buck Taylor
644 Buffalo Bill’s Bonanza; or. Si ver Circle Knights.
362 Buffalo Bill‘s Gri ); or. bath Bound to Custer.
329 Buffalo Bill’s Pie ge: or. The League of Three.
189 \\ ild Bill‘s Gold Trail; or. The Desperate Dozen.
175 Wild Bill‘s Trump Card: or, The Indian Heiress.
Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot.

IIY Buffalo Bill

The Ranch King Dead-Shot.

820 White. Beaver ’8 Still Hunt.

807 Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist.

800 Wild Bill. the Dead-Center Shot.

639 Buffalo Bill’s Gold King.

599 The Dead Shot Nine: or, My Pards of the Plains.
414 Red Renard. the Indian Detective. '
401 One-Armed Para; or, Borderland Retribution.
397 The Wizard Brothers: or, White Beaver‘s Trail.
394 White Beaver, the Exile of the Platte.

319 Wild Bill. the Whirlwind of the West.

304 Texas Jack. the Prairie Rattler.

243 The Pilgrim Sharp: or. The Soldier‘s Sweetheart.
8‘3 Gold Bullet Sport: or. Knights of the Overland.
(52 Death-Trailer. the Chief of Scouts.

By Leon Le\\'l-, Ned Buntllne, etc.

773 Buffalo B ll’s Ban; or. Cody to the Rescue.

682 Buffalo Bill’s Secret Service Trail.

629 Buffalo Bill‘s Darin Role; or, Daredeath Dick.

517 Buffalo Bill’s First rail; or. The Express Rider.
158 Buffalo Bill, Chief of Scouts.

117 Buffalo Bill s Strange Pard; or, Dashing Dandy.
92 Buffalo Bill. the Buckskin King.

BY “A BOLD PAYNE.

888 The Man from Mexico in New York.

872 The King-Pin Shark; or. Thad Burr's Ten Strike.
861 The Tenderloin Big Four

853 The Quaker City Crook.

844 Tracked to Chicago.

836 The Policy Broker’s Blind.

829 The Frisco Sharper’s Cool Hand.

821 The Tramp ShadOWer’s Backer.

813 The Sham Spotter‘s Shrewd Scheme.

806 The Grand Street Gold-Dust Sharpers.

798 Detective Barr‘s Luna ic Witness

792 The Wall Street Sliarper‘s Snap.

784 Thad Barr‘s Death Drop. _

742 Detective Burr Among the New York Thugs.
734 Detective Burr‘s Foil; or. A \\ oman‘s Strategy.
728 Detective Burr. the Headquarters Special.
713 Detective Burr's Spirit Chase.

706 Detective Barr’s Seven Clues.

698 Thad Burr. the invincible; or, The “L " Clue.
690 The Matchless Detective.

680 XX. the Fatal (Blew; or, Burr‘s Master Case.

BY LIEU'I‘. A. K. SIMS.

914 Snowflake Sam’s Double.

897 The Six-Shot Spotter.

887 The Stranger Sport from Spokane.

873 The Sport Detective‘s Colorado Clew

860 The Spangled Sport Shadower.

843 the Crescent City Sport.

832 Gid Gale‘s Block Game.

804 Tr 0 King l’in of the Leadville Lions.

786 011108520 Charlie’s Diamond l-laul.

776 Chicago Charlie. the (‘olumbian [)e'ective.

758 The Wizar 1 King Detective.

723 Teamster Tom. the Boomer Detective.

709 Lodeston» Lem. the Champion of Chestnut Burr.
695 Singer Sani.‘the Pilgrim Detective.

688 River Hustlers; or. the Detective from ‘\Vay Back
673 Stuttering Sam, the “mo st Sport of Santa Fe.

- 666 Old Adamant, the Man of Rock.

618 Kansas Karl, the Detective King.
552 Prince Primrose, the Flower of the Flock.
528 Huckleberry, the Foot-Hills Detective.

 

 

929 Gentleman George, the Showman Sport.
91‘.‘ Gt nteel Joe‘s Loiic Hand.

903 Tue Train Detective.

896 Kent Keen, the (‘rookCrushen

888 Nightshade in New York. 

879 Falcon Flynn, the Flash Detective.
87 The Crook (i‘rashiel'.

8.39 (flew-Hawk Km-nc‘s Right Bower.
812' lliraiii Hawk, the Harlem Detective.
810 Major Bullion Boss of the 'l‘igers.

..‘

817 l‘llisli Velvet. the Prince of Spotters.
803 The lioglls‘ Broker's Bight Bower.
788 Th.- ;\'ivght-II u-xk I). li-clive.
779 Silk B'ldion‘s (‘r slimiil.
766 llt-tcc'ivv- let'l', the l’riraduay Spotter.
7'51 The Dark Lantern llf'lv ctivc.
7‘36 The Ni‘\'l‘l'~l“:i. l l) tet'tive.
7.21 Captain lll'l'OlZlf'S. the Strong: Arm Detective
711 Dan Damon, the (liltrllldce DetectiVe.
701 Silver Stew, the Branded Spoil.
694 Gideon Grip, the Set-let Shadowri‘.
681 Velvet Van. lhe Mystery Shadower.
67* 'l‘hellude Desperado
71 JuSon (dew. the, Silk-Handed Farm.
664 Monk Morel, the Mun-Hun er.
651 Sol Sphinx. the Fern-t Detective.
612 Red Yard and Yellow
608 Silent Sam, the Shadow Sphinx.
592 Captain Sid. the Shasta Ferret.
579 Old Cormorant ll e Bowery Shadow.
569 Captain Cobra. the llooded Mystery.
559 Danton. the Shadow Sharp.
550 Silk Hand, the Mohaw- Ferret.
543 The Magnatc Detective.
532 Jac‘r Javert. the independent Detective.
523 Reynard of Red Jack: or, The Lost Detective
512 Captain Velvet‘s Big Stake.
505 Phil Fox. the Genteel Spotter.
496 Richard Redftre. the Two Worlds’ Detective.
48? Sunshine Sam, a Chip of the Old Block.
480 Hawkspear. the Man with a'Secret.
4 8 Coldgrip iii Deadwuod. ‘
460 Captain Coldizrip. the Detective
453 Captain (‘oldgrip‘s Long Trail.
447 Voicano. the Frisco Spy.
4-11 The California Sharp.
434 Lucifer Lynx, the \\ onder Detective.
421 Father Ferret. the Frisco Shadow.
413 Captain Coldgrip in New York.
407 Captain Coldgrip’s Nerve: or. Injun Nick.
400 Captain Coldgrip: or. The New York Spotter.
392 The Lost Bonanza: or. The Boot of Silent Hound.
382 The Bonanza Band: or, Dread Don of Cool Clan.
374 Major Blister. the Sport of Two Cities.
365 Keen Kennard. the Shasta Shadow.
35? The Des Karate Dozen.
347 Denver uke. the Man with “ Sand.“
340 Cool Conrad. the Dakota Detective.
335 Flash Dan. the Nabob: or, Blades of Bowie Bar.
321 California Claude, the Lone Bandit.
294 Broadcloth Burt. the Denver Dandy.
941 The Shadow Sport from Frisco.

BY \VILLIAIVI ll. MANNING.

948 The Red-Gloved Detective.

931 Frisco Frank at Glory Gulch.

920 The Montana. Miner in New York.

908 The Doomsday-Den Detective.

899 The Double-Quick Detective.

893 Yellow Gid. of Dark Divide.

885 The Expert DetectiVe‘s Shake-up.

875 Trapping the Race-Track Judge.

861 The olice Special’s Dilemma.

84* The Genteel Sharper’s Combine

841 Grayrlon‘s Double Deal.

833 The Sport Detectiw’s Gilli.

823 The Athlete SpOrt About ‘own.

808 TheCr-ook-Detective's Pull.

790 Plus or Pete. the Race Track Detective.
782 Roya Rock, the Rt rind-up Detective.
774 Steve Starr. the Dock Dett ctive.

764 The New York Sharp's Shadower.

738 Detective, Cluxton. 1 ie Record Breaker.

 

711 Gabe Gall, the Gainbolier from Great Hump. i
703 Spokane Saul. the Samaritan Slisgmt i
692 Dead Shot Paul, ti 0 Deep-Range ‘x lorer. i
655 Strawberry Sam. the Man with the irthmark. I
646 Dark John, the Giiin Guard. ‘
638 Murdock, the Dread Defective. I
623 Dangerous Dave. the NevervBt-aten Detective.
611 Alkali Abe. the Game Cl icken from Texas.

596 Rustler Rube; the RoundUp Detective. .

585 Dan Dixon‘s Double. ,
57;) Steady Hand. the Napoleon of Detectives
563 Wyoming Zeke, tie Hotspur of Honey suckle.
551 Garry Kean the. Man with Backbone.

539 Old Doubledark. the Wily Detective.

531 Saddle-Chief Kit. the Prairie Centaur.

521 Paradise Sam. the Nor‘-West Pilot. .

513 Texas Tartar. the Man With Nine Lives.

506 Uncle Honest. the Peacemaker of Hornets’ Nest.
498 Central Pacific Paul. the Mail Train Spy.

492 Border Bullet, the Prairie Sharpsliooter.

486 Kansas Kitten. the Northwest Detmtive.

479 Gladiator Gabe, the Samson (If Sassajack.

470 The Duke of Dakota.

463 Gold Gauntlet the Gulch Gladiator.

455 Yank Yellouliird. the Tall Hustler of the Hills.
449 Bluff Burke. King of the Rockies.

442 Wild West Walt. the Mountain Veteran.

437 Deep Duke: or, The Man of Two Lives.

427 The Rivals of Montana Mill

415 Hot. Heart, the Detective Spy.

405 Old Baldy the Brigadier of Buck Basin.

29'“ Colorado Rube. the Strong Arm of Hotspur.

279 The Gold Dragoon. or. California Bloodhound.

BY LEoN LEIVIS.
797 Pistol 'l‘oininy. the Miner Sharp.
785 The Dow- n Fast DetectiVe in Nevada.
773 Buffalo Bills Ban: or, ('ody to the Rescue.
699 The, Cowhov Couriers.
686 The On-the-Wing Detectives. V
624 The Submarine Detective: or, The \\ ater Ghouls.
484 Captain Ready. the Red. Ransomer.
481 The Silent Detective: or, The Bogus Nephew.
456 The Demon Steer.
428 The Flying Glimz» or. The Island Lure.

.i 4.5- x “ ‘ t a ‘ Law..-

BY (3.1 P'I‘AIN llO‘VAIlD linblflES. 
i

l
l
l
831 Sh :dowini: the London Detective i
l

 

A LIBER'I‘ ‘V. AIKEN’S NOVELS.
Dick Talbot Series.

711 Dick 'l‘alliot‘s Close Call.
3.” Dick Talbot in Apache l and.
3: Dick Talbot. the Ranch King.
. 29 Dick Talliot‘s l‘leairOut.
7:23 Dick Talbot in No Man‘s Camp.
v 351 Dick Tallmi; oi. The Brand of Crimson Cross
36 Dick Talbot; or. The Dentli-Sliot of Shasta.

—)-‘ —)

Aiken’s Fresh of Frisco Series.

825 Fresh. the RaCe-Traek Sport.

. 660 The Fresh in Montana; or. Blake‘s l’iiil Hall-l.

g 652 Ti e Fresh's Rustic at Painted City.

‘_ 647 The Fresh at Santa Fe: r r. 'l he Strange: Slinrp.
j 556 Fresh, the Sport: or. The Big Racket at S idc Out .
, -' " Fresh Against the Fic‘d: or. Blake. the Lion.

Y

497 The Fresh in Texas: or The Escobedo Milliona
The Fresh of Frisco on the Rio Grande.
91‘ The Fresh in Big Walnut Camp; or. Bronze Jack

22

Aikeii‘s Joe l’henix Series.
949 The Doctor from T xas: or, JocPheiiix's Chic. I

. 941 Joe l’henix‘s Righ’ Bower.

865 The Female Barber llt trcliv : or. Joe l’lieiiix in
Silver City.

799 Joe Phenix‘s Great Blue Diann n l (‘ascz or, The
New York Sport at Long Branch.

793 Joe Phenix’s Decoy: or. The Man of Three.

760 Joe l’henix’s Lone Hand.

749 Joe I’ln-nix‘s Big Bulge.

745 .1 w l’henix‘s Mad Case.

‘ 708 Joe Pheiiix‘s Sin-n; or. The Woman Hawks! aw

700 Joe Phenix’s Unknown: or. Crushing the (‘rooks'
681 Joe Phcnix‘s Specials; or. The Actress Detective
637 Joe Phenix in Crazy Camp.

632 Joe Phenix’s Master Search.

I 628 Joe Phenix’s Combin ; r,the Dandy Coiisp rator

620 Joe Phenix’s Silent Six.
601 Joe Phenix’s Shadow; or.tlie Detective‘s Monitor

1 419 Joe Phenix.. the Kine of Detectives,

161 Joe Phenix’s Great Man Hunt.
112 Joe Phenix, Private Detective; or. The League.
79 Joe I’henix. the Police Spy.

Aiken‘u Mim- clluneous Novels.

940 Captain Jack. the Scalper

935 The hawks and Wolves of New York

932 Detective Gordon‘s Grip.

926 Old Sunflower, the Silent Smiter.

923 Old Sunflower. the Hayseed Detective.

901 The Hotel Swell-Sharp; or, The Siren Shadower.
89.3 The Countrynian Detective.

876 Gold Button Sport; or, The Miner Sharps.

842 Teton Tom. the Half-tilted.

8‘35 The King-Pin Detective.

814 The New Yorker Among Texas Sports.

775 King Dandy, the Silver Sport.

753 Gideon’s Grigaat Babylon PM.

717 Captain Pat cGowen, tlze Greencoat Detective.

. 674 Uncle Sun Up. the Born Detective.
. 670 The Lightweight Detective.
' 665 The Frisco Detectiw-; or. The Golden Gate Find.

613 Keen Billv, the Sport.
607 Oid Benzine, the " Hard Case " Detective.
594 Fire Face, the Silver King's Foe.
586 The Silver Sharp Detective.
577 Tom. of Calift mm; or, Detective‘s Shadow Act.
570 The Actress Detective: or. The invisible Hand
562 Lone Hand. the Shadow.
520 The Lone Hand on the Caddo.
490 The Lone Hand .in Texas. .

75 Chin Chin, the Chinese Detective.
465 The Actor Detective. .

440 The High Her e of the Paelfic.

425 The Lone Hand; or. The Red River Recreants.
408 Doc Grip, the Vendetta of Death. ‘
381 The Gypsy Gentleman: (r. hick Fox. Detective
376 Black Beards: oi. The Rio (ii'filldt‘ IllL’li Horse
370 The Duskv Detective: or. l‘ursued to the End.
363 Crowningshield, the Detective

' 320 The Genteel Spotter; or The N. Y, Night Hawk.

252 The Wail Street 1 lood; cr. The Telegrai'h Girl.

1 203 The Double Detective: r.r.'ihe Midnight Mystery.

196 La Marmoset. the Letrcuve Queen.

101 The Man from New York.

91 The Winning'Oar: ( r. The Innkeeper’s Daughter.
84 Hunted Down: or, The League of Three.

81 The Human Tiger: or. A Heait of Fire.

75 Gentleman George: 01'. Parlor. Prison and Street.
7:! The Phantom Hand: 01'. The 5th Avenue Heiress.
56 The Indian Mazeppa: or, Madman of the Plains.
49 The Wolf Demon: or. The Kanawha Queen.

42 The California Detective: or, The Witches or 
31 The New York Sharp: or, The Flash of Lightning.
27 The Spotter Detective: or. Girls of New York.

BY J \V. (NEON.

922 Gilbert Goldspur, the Dandy Sport.

905 Shasta Sam. the Sparkler.

877 Cool Creede, the Dead-Shot.

759 The Sport from St. Louis.

518 Royal Richard, the Thoroughbred.

l NEW 1831133.
957 The King-Pin Sport. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.

. 958 The Round-About-Town Sport. ByJ. C Cow—

drick.
959 Joe Phenix's Double Deal. By Albert W. Aiken.

‘ 960 Buffalo Bill’s Blue Belt Brigade. By Col. P. Iii-

graham. .
I JUST issusn.
95!; Dashing Charlie’s Minute Men, By Col. Ingraham
951 Joe Phenix in Chicago. By Albert W. Aiken.
955 The Secret Service Special of New York. By
l Ed. Gaiius Burnes.
936 B ifl‘alo Bill‘s Volunteer Vigilante-s. By lngrahani
. .i new issue every Wednesday. '
i Beadle‘s “but; LiIn-uryois  inlaid; 3‘1:
' ‘ ' e ~ .' . . si
ifé‘éii-‘Eiet'ifeivfl 3233i; §§£i€°p§mm a! A rams.
Publishers, 92 William street, New York.

‘ “at: 7.».
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