1

19.1044.

 

 

VCorYarhu'1leWS7BJBY BEADLEV& ADAMBIiV

Published Every
Month.

Double Sight. the Death Shot;
on.

The Outlaw of the Chaparral.
A Tale of Sport and Peril in Texas.

BY JOS. E. BADGER, JR.
AUTHOR or “THREE-rmonnnn JACK,” “GOSPEL
GEORGE,” “THE LONG rumor) ‘rARDs,’ ”
“oLD BULL’s urn,” ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER I.
PEnILons sron'rs.

“FIFTY dollars’ wuth, of a cent! Silk ones,
tow! and free tew them as grabs ’em—waal, I

‘ swan tew man!”

“ Better try your luck, stranger,” observed a
tall, fine-looking young man, an amused smile
upon his face.

The scene was a peculiar one. Thousands of
human beings, young and old, rich and poor,
the blue blood of the land shoulder to shoulder

ENTERED AS SECOND CLASS Mu'nm AT THE NEW YORK,

31. J. IVI‘IIES & 00., Publishers,
IJA MES SULLIVAN, Pnormmon).
2:79 l’cnrl film-cl. New York.

with the ragged homeless outcast, rising in tier
after tier, one above the other, until tivesixths
of the vast amphitheater was surrounded by a
mass of rustling, buzzing humanity. The re-
maining sixth of the circle was completed by
several stout pens and one massive wooden den,
its front containing a square door of heavy iron
bars. In the center of the arena stood a tall
live-oak tree, the trunk of which had been peel-
ed and plentifully dumbed with grease from its
base up to where the thick-growing branches
had been left untrimmod, some twclvo feet from
the ground. Loosely knotted to the branches
were numerous handkerchiefs of cotton and silk,
of all the hues of the rainbow. Those were to
be the prizes of those who could scale the tree
and secure them.

The spectators were impatient for the sports
to begin, and in response to their shrill whistles
and impetuous clapping, the signal was given.
At the sharp blare of the bugle a scene of wild
excitement ensued. Full two—score men, a pic-
turesque rabble by virtue of their very ragged—
ness and squalor, swarmed over the steep wood-
en barricade and assaulted the gayly-decked
tree, each fighting and struggling like a mad-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.‘V‘Kb’fi‘
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AIL-Y" Posu'r‘ Orricu. 7

January, 1901.

“film. Lx‘xxL

man, seeking to he the first to climb the tree and
thus gain the choicest prizes. The enthusiastic
plaudits of the spectators encouraged the con—
testants, before whose struggle the insecurcly
planted trco began to shake and lllVCY‘. Wilder
yet rung forth the applause as 1.10 tall Yankee,
whose words head this chapter, sprung: into the
arena, and, with a cat-like activity, leaped upon
the writhng mass, making,y stopping-stones of
his fellows’ heads and shoulders, then leaping u
and gras )i'ng tho lowest branches, flinging
nngaiul Ilimbs around until he fairly secured a
footholt .

At this moment the bugle sounded again. The
gate of one of the pens was flung open and a
magnificont bull b1 )undcd into the arena, bellow—
ing loudly with pain and rage. At this several
of the \vcali—ncrvcd aspirants for famkthis
sport, imported from Old Spain, is termed
[Monte .l’arnaso-l'rccd themselves and started
for the barriers, while others, doubtless encour—3
aged by the disa pointed crics among the spec—
tators of “ Embo ado !” renewed their struggles
with better success.

Bellowing (lee ly, the bull shook its head,
then charged. he rabble scattered amid tho‘

10 Cents a Copy.
$1.00 a Year.

 

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Beadle’s Dime Library.

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mocking yells of the tators. One unfortu-
nate was overtaken an tossed high into the air,
fortunately falling upon the safe side of the
barrier amongr the crowd, bruised and frighten-
ed but not much hurt thanks to the large gilt
balls that were upon t e bull’s horns.

Foiled here, and its attention attracted by the
noise among the stili' branches—where the
,ath Yankee was seen busily stripping the

andlmrchic’i’u -— the bull charged the tree,
causm ; it to tremble and sway far out of per-
penlicuir. Yclls of ludicrous dismay filled
the air as the bull drew hack for another plunge.
Swift and sure came the stroke, and the over-
burdene! tree was hurled to the ground, those
who had succcotlcd in climbing up, strugglin
frantically to free themselves from the tanglm
branches and the aimless clutches of each other.
And this confusion became worse confounded
as the null plunged headlorrr into the dark mass,
rendered almost frantic y the thundering
chccrs that grdcted the thrilling, if ludicrous
spectacle.

Luckily the Yankee had been pitched clear
of the tree, and scrambling to his feet, both
hands full of prizes, he gained the barrier and
was swung from the arena at the end of a stout
scarf in the hands of the tall young man al-
ready referred to.

By the tune he had cleared his eyes of dust,
the scene was ended. Several horsemen had
entered, lassoed the bull and tree, dragging
both out of the arena. Thanks to the humanity
—unapprecia ted though it was by the spectators
who had so freely hissed the appearance of the
embolado—displayed b the management in
rendering the bull wel -nigh harmless, the af-
fair ended withmt death or broken bones,
though the Yankee was the only one that pro-
fited by that Monte Parnaso.

"Lurrky'for you, stranger, it wasn’t that
brute!” exclaimed the young man, as another
gen was opened and a huge bull bounded forth,

lack as jet, with a thick—curled mane that
would not have disgraced a lion.

In the animal’s hips and flanks were sticking
anumber of barbed missiles that exploded one
by one, goadiug the bellowing animal to an ex-
cess or ,ury as it plun ed around the circle.
But m i-rniliccnt as this ruto was, it was pow-
erless to hold the attention of the spectators
long. The figure of a man was seen upon the
iron-‘ ouw! cage from whence, by the aid of a

is, he unl'astcned and swung open the iron

oor. Swiftly disappearing, the huge cage was
slowly tilted forward until a huge grayish ball
rolled through the door and fell upon the
ground.

In an instant the tumultuous cheering was
stillcd. In the place of the hairy ball stood on
animal tint oven in this state of half-captivity
was Lx‘l'l'iliil) and fear-inspiring; a gaunt, half-
starvod g! izcly hear of the largest size.

“Glory to Moses!” uttered the Yankee.
“ What a all-fired watch-dog that critter would
make!”

“If you could only train it,“ laughed the

dung man, Mark Bird by name. “ But look!
it’s gotits work cut out for it this time. Look
at the bull l"

“A picavune on the dog, if it breaks me!"
cried tnc Yankee, enthusiastically.

There was no response made to th. extrava-
gant oil'or. Every eye was riveted u )o the two
animals, every vein throbbcd wit 1: .e hotly
leaping blood and the steadiest norm-s were
tremb in,' with anticipation. The suspense was

not of long duration. Like a black thunderbolt

the huge bull plunged forward, glad of a living ‘

object upon which to wreak its fury. Rising
erect the grizzly met the onset with a blow of
its mas‘ive paw that staggered the hull; but be-
fore the stroke could be repeated, the long black
horns were buried in the bear’s breast, and the
huge brute was forced back against the stout
barricade and there pinned last. The grizzly
buried its long snout in the bull’s neck, while his
hind paws were tearing longlstrips of flesh from
the breast and legs of its assailant.

Deadly and fierce as was the fight. it did not
seem to s itisfy the spectators. The sport threat-
ened to be too brief, and to lack variety. Hoping
to separate the animals. those directly above the
scene, rolling loudly, flung whatever missiles
they could command down at the boost.

 

 some shoutin for the piradm's to aid the un-
, fortunate, ot ers shouting directions to him.
shaking cloaks and sashes over the barriers, and
! calling for him to catch hold and be drawn up;

hile he seemed utterly bewildered either by

w
1 his fall or through slicer terror, staggering here ‘

and there like a drunken man.

! Amid this confusion, a large, powerful! -‘

j built, white-bearded man, leaped boldly into t c
! arena, and grasping the fellow, forced him
1 toward the barrier, raim‘n him aloft with ap-
“ parently little effort. Illing hands graslmd
1 the stupefied wretch, while scarfs and belts were
‘ lowered to aid the rescuer. None too soon. The

grizzly. infuriated by its wounds, was plunging .
orward with blmul-curdling snurls, roaring i
at the feet of the man ‘

‘ erect and striking vninl
as he was drawn over is 1e barrier.

Rendered frantic at being balked of its prey,
the grizzly drove its powerful claws into the
narrow cracks and began scaling the wall.
fairly llingin
a hand could lifted to check its progress. The
crowd, thickly sprinkled with women, seemed
wild with terror, and to think of nothing but
seeking safety in flight. Fortunately a few
men were cool-brained, and the sharp detona-

Leaning forward the gray-bearded man dealt
the bear a. blow upon the snout with his clench—
edflst that was answered by a howl of angry
iam.
I Then came a startling crackling—a section of
the barrier had given way beneath the weight
of the grizzly and the tremendous jam, precipi-
tating full a. score of bodies into the blood-
stained arena.

Among that number were Mark Bird and his
cousin, Kirke Howard. Fortunately both fell

law, they started for the opposite side of the
amphitheater. J ust as they neared safety, a
wild snarling roar caused them to cast a back-
ward glance

The grizzly bear had extricated himself from
under the splintered timbers, and was rushing,
open-mouthed, upon the first living ob'ect that
met its infuriated gaze. This chance to be a
slightbuilt lad, dressed in aranchero’s suit, and
who was just rising to his feet.

The raging beast was too close for successful
flight. and with a coolness remarkable in one so

oung, the lad tore the sash of china crapc from

is waist and shaking out its folds, spruuvr nim-
bly aside, leaving the bear half-blinded b the
sash. The next instant his long, slender ife
was buried to the hilt in the bear’s side.

“ Back, Kirke!" shouted Mark, drawing a re-
volver. “ That boy’s TOO brave tobe butchered l”

Howard needed not another appeal, and when
the mad beast tore the shining crape from its
eyes, two revolvers were pouring their lcadcn
contents into its body.

“ Run while you can. boy!” shouted Mark
Bird, springing in front of the Mexican. “Climb
up yonder—we’ll cover your— Hurrah!” he
screamed, as the huge beast reared erect, then
fell heavily backward, wildl aning the air.
A revolver bullet had crashe t rough the griz-
zly’s brain, enterimr at the eye.

“You have savedmylife, senor; I shall never
forget it!” earnestly uttered the youth, then
springin forward he mingled with the crowd
and was ost to view.

CHAPTER II.
A TEXAN FLOWER.

“ I MOVE we get out of this—enough is as
good as a feast to a man who don’tclaim to be a
hog! Talk about fun !” and Kirke Howard gave
a snort of utter disgust as he began scaling
the shattered barrier, elbowing his way uncere-
moniously through the motley crowd toward the
place of exit.

“ You were sighing for a glimpse of the
Texan elephant, and now you've got it,” laugh-
ed Mark Bird, as they fought their passage
through the excited crowd and found themselves
once more without the canvas and wooden
walls. “ I should grumble, if any one. You
lit head-first between my shoulders, and I can
feel a dent there big enough for a wash-bowl!”

“ We were lucky in gettin off so well,”added

 

Those ! time, when I atten

Howard, thoughtful], . “ ut at the same
another such perfor-

in the rear pressed forward fora better view, l mance, I’m going to leave before the after-

and the jam was so great that the wooden'bar—

rier bug 111 to bend and crack. A wild yell of

l
1

piece.” .
‘.‘ And I—to strike for higher wages unless the

terror nose, and in the mad confusion that fol- , management agree to furnish a fair damsel for

lowed, one ragged wretch was toppled over the , rescue, instead of a youn

greaser. Listen—

railing, with an ear-splitting shriek of awful ! what's in the wind now?” a ded Mark, glancing

terror.

Henllong he fell, striking fairly upon the
arched back of the bull, thus strangely produc-
ing the very effect he had been foremost in seek-
ing. The heavy shock upon its 5 fine appeared
to madden the bull, and be fed
over the shrieking \wretch while the grizzly,
streaniiir blood, plunged ’forward, and with
one mighty stroke, fairly disemboweled the bull.

Meantime the man, bruised and bewildered,
struggled to his feet and staggered away from
the spot where he had so nearly met his death.

' excitement.

,' Words are modes: to describe the scene which
" ' followed. hmpectators aplpeared insane with
were ye ing or shrieking;

l

 

back at the huge amphitheater, from the in-
terior of which arose a. chorus of wild yells,
boots, cat—calls and other significant sounds of
angrydisa proval.

Hot—he ed Mark pressed forward, eager to

back, rolling , discover the cause of disturbance, but was soon

7 driven back by the surging crowd that mured

l

!

forth frbm the inclosnre in anything ut an
angelic mood. Prominent among the malcon-
tents, the cousins discovered the tall Yankee
who had home oil? the honors of the Monte Par-

aso. .
“ It’s a swindle, gentlemen—J swan tew man!

I Tew close eout when they haven’t done the half

they contracted tew dew! gamer-citizensT

its fore-paws over the top before ,

tions of revolvers were added to the uproar. ,

clear of the ruins, and obeying nature’s first ‘

. ‘ 1

' ef yeop’ll only wait till I kin draw up a pet!-
tion—'

“8’ se the fence was bu’sted down.” inter
ruptct a burly bull-whacker, “didn’t we agrve
to 7play fence, just so the fun mought go
on?

“ They’s the boss-raisin”, anyhow—they cain‘t
cheat us out 0’ Hull!" cried another cow~
boy, evidently disposed to look at. the brightest
sid

e.

“It takes all sorts of people to make up a
world,” said Mark, laughing. “ You may haw
heard something of the kind before, but you
never saw a more convincing roof of its truth.
Think of a livin fence to inc ose such 5 orts~
nobody buta w‘ dand woolly Texan co (1 have
dreamed of such a thin —much less have prov
posed it in sober earnest. _.’

” I have't‘elt as though in a dream ever since-
we left Galveston—everything and everybodv is
so exaggerated. It is one constant succession or
su rises. The contrasts are so sharp There!
! 100 at that group by the broken—to ped live—
‘ oak. I couldn’t have found a better i ustration
‘ in a day’s ride.”

“'An angel, by George l” exclaimed Mark.
“ Guarded by two satyrs,” laughed Kirke.
In the scanty shade cast by the deformed tire.
I a rough, rickety wagon was standinlg, coverM
, with a patched and dirty canvas ti t. At the
rear end, two gaunt mules were eating from tlr:
l feed-box. Beszde the wagon were three pct”
,‘ sons, two seated. The larger of these was a
, rudelyggarbed man, shaggy-haired and bushy-
; bearde . With head upon one side and foot
! heating time against a wagon Wheel, he was tor-
‘ turing a battered violin that could only boast of
1 two strings, producin a series of sounds that
would have shamed t e howling of a tortured
cat. The other was a young woman, et in her
teens, of almost marvelous beauty. t is little
to say that her hair was of a rich, olden brown.
her complexion clear and free rom tan; her
cheeks softly suffused; her eyes large, lustrous.
of adeep, limpid blue; her 1i )5 full and moist ;'
her chin round and dimpl ; her neck sloping
into perfect shoulders and swellin bust. Al
this may be said, and yet you can ave but a
faint and indistinct idea of the reality. There
is a certain type of woman that no pen can
clearly depict: and she 11 n whom the cousin:
were now gazing forme one of that numlzcr:
nor did her garb, as isso often the ruse, lend its
aid to highten the work of nature. A plain
calico dress, unrelieved by how or ribbon, inut
white stockings and headed m0ccasins.

The third person, also a woman, was hustling
around with wonderful activit , and hertongue
was fully as nimble. Short, t in, and angular,
with faded hair, eyes and sallow complexion,
she formed a strong contrast to her huge, over—
grown husband—for the beatified fiddler was no»
ess.

Pausing short as her restless\eyes lightrd
upon the cousins, the sour expression of the
little woman’s countenance changed to eager in-
terest, and poking the rural Orpheus in the short
ribs with a stout cowhide shoe—Lher both hands
were full—she uttered:

“ Roust up, you lazy cootl Go ax the gentle-
men will they take a bite ’long 0’ us.2 Vanish,
now, or I’ll make kin’lin’ wood 0’ that pesky fid—
clle as I’ve ’lowed to, time an’ ag’in.”

With ludicrous activit the Texan scrambled
to his feet, and holding is loved fiddle out of
the way of harm, greeted the cousins and de-
livered his message with a better grace than
might have been expected. Though yet now to
the free and easy style of the border, the young
men accepted the invitation quite as frankly as
it had been given, and five minutes later were
seated in the grateful shade, eating, chait 11;:
and laughing as though with friends of a life
long standing.

“It wasn’t your good looks altogether, gentle,-
men,” said Mrs. Lamb, for thus she had intnu
duced herself, and laughing as she spoke,
“’twasn’t so much that—though Idid say to
Minnie, when you turned on that overgrowcd
warmint—the ugliest critter that grows, I
think, an’ which my mother—she’s dead nn’
gone come twenty-t ree years next tatur d1g~
gin’—an’ she’d ought to know, of anybody.”

Minnie smiled furtively, as the cousms inter-
changed a quick glance, in doubt as to what an-
swer ought to be made. Fortunately for their
sense of politeness, just at that moment Hector
Lamb forgot himself and began wrestling once
more with the “Arkansaw Traveler.’ But
slack and alas! As his eyes closed and his huge
foot sl'raightened out to beat time, the broad

sole began tting Mrs. Hector Lamb in the
small of the k. As well have been a package
of dynamite. The musician doubled up as a

sharp elbow indented his ribs, while bow and
fiddle went flying over the wagon-to as though
suddenly provided with wings. fieekly the
giant arose and shambled around to rescue 111$
beloved instrument, and Mrs. Lamb resuml‘d
her never-ending skirmish-fire of disjointed ques—
tions and assertions.

The cousins found it interestin , or at least
amusing, but a transcript woul be tedious-
Enough that in the hour devoted to dinner Mrs.
Lamb covered the entire past, present and 8»
good portion of the future. -

 

 

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Their family consisted of but the three then
resent ; they had driven over from their
‘homestead ’ fifty miles distant, to enjoy the
sports at an Antonio ; lzad witnessm the

rompt action of the cousins in defense of the
Mexican youth, to which fact they owed their
present fe icity.

“I’m done for, Kirke,” (lolefully exclaimed
Mark, as they finally strolled town rd the crowd
that began to gather at the race—coumc. “IIit
hard, and right to the center. Did you ever see
such a beauty? and so modest, so shy, yet
arch—”

” And so forth,” interru ted Howard. “ You
have been In the same sat 11x twenty times, to
my knowledge, Mark, so there If; some hopes of
your surviving.”

“ I’ll marryblier to—morrow—“

“ There may be more words than yours about
that. Look hack—it needs no gift of second
sight to read the extent of your chances
there!”

A tall, lithe young man, dressed in a suit of
gaylv-ornamented Wok-Skill, was greeting Min—
nie amb. ,Botli her hands were in his, and
there was an expression upon her uplifted face
that could not be mistaken. His face was bid-
den, but hers betrayed love, deep and entire,
and Mark Bird felta queer pang in his bosom as
he took in the scene.

“ If he’s a better man than I—not unless."

He laughed as he spoke, but there was an un—
dercurrent of earnestness in his voice that Kirke
did not fail tonote.

“Remember your pledge. lad ; remember
what we both have sworn. Until that work is
done, your hands are boniid. I shall hold you
to your promise, as I expect you to hold me to
mine.”

Mark made no reply, and a sober shade was
over both faces as they entered the noisy, ex-
cited crowd.

There was no regularly surveyed race-course,
though a straight half-mile stretch had been
duly measured and staked off. There was no
pretense at order, no particular rules or regula-
tions, but the crowd made up in fire and enthu-
siasm for all other deficiencies. Money seemed
to be plenty, and was wagered with reckless
liberality, recalling the “ flush times of the
South,” when Boston and Fashion battled for
the supremacy of the turf. A wild, exciting
scene, well spiced With danger. More than one
roughand-tumble fight had alreadytaken place,
and though as yet no wea ons had been used,
there was every prospect o the day’s ending in
a “ gay 01d circus”—to use the vernacular.

Around the two more prominent horses the
crowd was greater, but tall Kirke Howard made
a discovery.

“The littl i Mexican—he’s going to ride!”

Just then the crowd rolled aside. The race
was about to begin. The lithe Mexican leaped
lightly into the saddle, bending low down to
catch the whispered instructions of the man
whose iron hand controlled the impatiently
quivering racer. A man of unusual hight, yet
whose members were so admirably proportioned
that the eye was deceived until a com arisen
was made with his fellow-men. Straig it as a
)oplur, strong as a bull, active as a panther.
Inky—black hair fell in straight locks over his
shoulders. When he turned around, a striking
face was revealed.

“ Did you ever see a more magnificent figure
or face?” muttered Mark his 0 o kindling.

“Abad face, nevertheless; t u: face of a man
who willingly serves the devil.”

“Take a. fool’s advice, stranger, an’ speak
them words mighty low when he’s nigh to han’,”
muttered a not unfriendly voice close to How—
ard’s elbow.

“ You know him, then?"

“ From A to Am rsand!” promptly respond-
ed the Texan. “" ey’s few in these parts as
don’t kaow ‘Turmover,’ the lnjun, ur Kuimel
Overton, as he calls hisself now. Et‘ they was
time—” _

But time there was not. The signal was
given, an 1 away the rival steeds darted, vanish-
ing amid the cloud of sand flung aloft by their
own heels.

The scene which followed baffles description.
The crowd seemed insane, as they one and all
rushed up the course the sooner to learn which
animal had won. Among them were the cou-
sins, carried away by the excitement, yelling
with the best, despite the grave interests which
had brought them to this wild and lawless re-

on.

Back in trium h tplranced the gray horse,

roudl bestrode 9 young Mexican, while

lone Overton he d the tossin head in check.
It seemed _almost as though t )8 noble animal
knew that it had just won a princely fortune.

Mark Bird uttered an angry exclamation as a
strong arm thrust him violently aside. A bur-
] , heavy-built fellow sprung 1; him with
dyrawn and leveled revolver. T e wea on ex‘
ploded, and the gray racer reared alo t, then

lunged heavily forward, a. ball in its brain.

‘ke its echo came a second shot, and the hot
blood spouted from Overton’s face as he whirled
around. A single swift glance—then he lea
forward, a long knife flashing in his hand. ne

, more shot—a dull, grating thud—and all was

I i

. /

 

Equality 

3

 

over. The would—be assassin lay quivering in
death, the knife-guard (looting his son] , its
point protruding beneath the dead man’s c iin.

“ Hold!" a clear, ringinrr voice was heard.
“ Up with your weapons! 'lhe man that strikes
a blow or burns powder, dies like a dog!”

“ The trouble is ended, sherifi',” coolly utter-
ed Overton. “ The cui'rioii whet my horse and
tried to murder inc. and I lziilcd liiiii. Any of
there gentlemen will say the some.”

(i ll.k. _ v 17 ' 1 H,"

us .0, (up u, put in 1.10 lcxan who had
warned Iloward. ‘ I liato tho cuss like p’ison,
as you know, but he‘s in the right 1M.»- time.”

“ Let‘s go—I’m sick of this!" muttered Kirko,
hoarsely.

Mark was about to comply, when some one
breath 'd in his car:

“Be at the Golden Harvest tn-nighl—imporf—
(mt I”

In amazement he glanced around, but in vain.
Whoever had spoken had vanished quite as mys-
teriously.

 

CHAPTER III.
wno was me

“ A nonsrnous bad speculation from first to
last—look at it as you will!" and with an ugly
glow in his snake—like eyes Colonel Overton re-
placed his emptied glass upon the rude table
with an angry thump.

He and one other man were the occupants of
a small, poorly-ventilated room in one of the
square, box-like buildings of which the western
end of San Antonio at that date princi ally eon-
sistcd. The building, though detache , fronled
upon a narrow and gloomy street, and consisted
of three small rooms.

The Colonel’s companion, as far as could be
seen, was a tall, well-formed man, something
past middle ago. His features were fine and
regular, and gave evidence that he had been un-
commonly handsonic before unbridled dissi a-
tion stamped its seal upon face and body. II’Io
lay upon a rude cot, a blanket flung over his
lower limbs and body. More than once a low
groan—almost a snarl—was wrung from his lips
by the acute pain he was suffering.

“First [on must get smashed lip—thanks to
your cliil ish love of sport. Then that drunken
fool must shoot m horse, because he’d bet on
the wrong nag, am then give me a mark that
will last me for life. I : ottlcd him—and that is
the only decent new of work done this day.
The devil’s in it say i”

“ Who could have foresem that he would in-
terfere. lie was safe started on a blind trail—
thcre was no one else to interfere. My hurt had
nothing to do with it. The boys were steady
and willing, only awaiting the signal. But just
then up rode that cursed Dashing Ned, at the
head of full fifty men. Instead of scattering to
see the s )ort, half of them squatted down be—
fore the bank. They never laid aside their Wea-
pons, nor even hitched their horses. The boys
were watching, and one of them caugh Brown’s
signal. That was enough. The game was u l.
The Rangers had got wind of the job; but how "

“That is what we must find out. Are you
sure of Brown? He comes of treacherous stock;
I never liked the fellow.”

“ As for myself I’d as soon think of doubting
you.”

A fleetin smile curled the colonel’s lips. Had
the injure( man caught this, he might well
have thought he was giving poor security for
Brown’s fidelity. But Overton was stroking
his mustache, and the long, muscular fingers
served as a mask.

“Some one is playing us false. In no other
way cam we account for those mysterious notes
—or else a veritable demon is haunting us 2”

A sharp crty parted the injured man’slips. A
square slip o stiff white pi r floated across the
room, seemingly without uman agency, and
settled down upon the breast of the man upon
the cot.

“ Another! When will this end?” he groaned.

“ When the. past is ahuwd fur—-when you
have sufi'ercd (1:: I have sufl‘ercd.”

Clear, yet deep sounded the first words, these
f0110wiu growing fainter and less distinct, as
though t is speaker was receding.

IVith an angry curse, Overton sprung to the
window and peered forth into the night, but no
livmg object was to be seen- the narrow street
seemed utterly deserted. With a troubled ex-
pression upon his face he closed and barred the
leavy wooden shutter before returning to the
bedside.

“ Take it 011’!” hoarselv gasped the trembling
wretch. “ It is all blood l"

“ Or red ink,” sneered Overton, regaining his
composure all at once. “See! the same old
story—a blood-red comn, and a cross-marked
bullet.”

“ There’s a name ?" muttered the other.

“ Yes—DOUBLE SIGHT, the DEATH Snor—
of course. Some one is playing a dangerous
joke—”

“ A joke that ends in death! Four times have
I seen or heard of that .card before to—night.
And four dead men have been found—”

“A mere coincidence. Dead men are no

 

rarit in these parts,” and Overton laughed,
short y. . .1

 

“ Was it a. coincidence that each one of than

four were with us when we—”

“IIushl” muttered Overton, as a sharp mp

resounded throuyh the building.

The colonel glided to the door, while his coni-
ianion, with a painful cll‘oi't, drew a revolver
rein beneath his head. Overton tapped out]?

upon the door, and as the sound was imitated,
opened it and gave admittance to a short, slight-
buiit mun.

“ ltrown! did you meet anybody in tho mm f

~wns there any person hanging around 1 ' \

house?” eagerl y demanded the crippled man, as.
i

( lverton rebarred the door.

“No, ("‘pl‘ain. I made sure of that. It

wouldn’t be healthy for me il’] were seen here 1

at present. I fear the dogs begin to sus t. I
am almost sure that I have been watc ed for
nearly two days past.”

‘You have been careless—drinking, again.
and so let the truth leak out," angrily uttered
Overton. '

“ I look like a man who would hang himself,
don’t I? If I had given them the faintest elew,
I wouldn’t be here now. You have no right to
accuse me. Ym refused the duty—”

“ Make your re rt—tinie presses."

“To the captain, not to you, Colonel Over—
ton.”

“ Peace—can you two never meet without
band ing words!" impatiently interposed the
cripp e.

‘ obeyed your orders to the very letter, cap—
tain,” quietly answered Brown. ‘I managed
it so that another man struck‘the trail, and
though I contrived that they should not min1 a
single point, no one could even suspect that I
was guiding them. The rest of the boys played
their part well; so well that at this time ester
day I could have sworn we would have con a.
hundred miles away at the hour set for ‘ opeuin ’
the bank. But last nighta stranger called Dush-
ing Ned aside, and must have posted him. for
within the hour we were takin the back trail.
I tried my best to make out w o and what the
stran er was, but thanks to Double Dan, I fail~
cd. {9 stuck close to me, and I fear smoked
my object, for ever since he has hung to me
closer than a tick."

“I would give five hundred dollars to know
who that stranger was! Could you not make a
guess?"

“ No. It was dark when he rode u , and he
ke t beyond range of the flrelight. saw him
on y for a. moment. I made out that 1!) was a
large man, and that he wore a full white beard,
or else had on a white shirt; I could not swear
which.”

For a few minutes there was silence, and all
the men seemed busied with thoughts anything
buta 'ecable. ‘

“ I ell, Brown,” finally said the man address-
ed ns captain. “I believe you have done the
best for us that lay in your power, and I thank
you for it. But, if all is as you say, your work
in this unrter is done. Can you cut loose
from the angers, think?"

“ If necessary, thou h that will strengthen
whatever suspicions t ey may entertain.
am at your command, now as ever, ca itain.”

“Then shake them of! and inako for he 11 )per-
station. Send buck Davis to take your p ace.

Lose no more time than you can help, but don’t ,

run any great risk,” said the captain, extending,
his hand.

Overton unba rrcd the door, but paused in the
act of opening it. Some one was coming down
the street, singingl in a very unsteady and
husky voice, varic by an occasional drunken
whoop. As he drew op osito the house, the fol-
low lurched over and to against the door. The
impatient curse upon Overton's li a was check—
ed as he caught a peculiar scratching rap, twice
reputed.

‘0 en and let him in,” cried the captain,
ea or y.
verton obeyed, the fellow gliding in, and in-
stantly closing and barring the door, he uplift-
ed one finger in warning.

A moment later'there came a quick, elastic
tread; it passed by without ausing.

“They ain’t no harm in icin’ too cautious,"
chuckled the new-comer, betraying no signs of
intoxication. “I saw a feller ahind me that
looked like he wanted to know whar,I was

bound, but I reckon I throwed him off the trail. _

I run into the Golden Harvest. aii’ he follcred'
me. While I was gittin’ outside of a couple 0’
glasses 0’ p’i’zen I tuck the critter’s fortygraph.”

“ Who was he?” asked the captain.

“ A stranger to me. A whalin’big teller with
along white b‘ard—the same galoot as he! ed
that critter out at the show, an’ then knee ed
the grizzly down.”

The three men interchanged quick glances,
and the same suspicion arose in the mind of
each. They believed that this spy and the man
who had warned the Ran r captain of the plot
to rob the San Antonio nk was one and the
same person. If so, the toils were surely closing
around them. >

“ It mebhe wasn’t me he was a’ter,”rresumod
the spy. “ He didn’t stay long. J estashe went
out I ketched a. rlim of Brownie, than, pass-
in’ by, but didn th nk it best to his him. I

waited a. good bit, then struck on . Jest an I

\

,-

i

turned into this street I lmtched sight 0’ the old
rip, and to make sure, I come the drunken man
- over him."

” You should have passed on; but, since you
are here, what have you to report? What suc-
.ness?"

“Big, boss! cf it ain’t wu’th a week‘s drunk,
you kin kick me! I struck trail two days ago,
.an’ never left it ontel I sucked the lemon dry.
What you beam was true. Those two young

- fellers was fresh from Galveston. They’ve bin
, 1axin’ the same questions here. One on ‘em is
called Klrke Howard, t‘other is Mark Bird.
They’re cousins, from Louisiany. They’re

1 huntin’ fer a. man named David Woodson.”
5 “ You can place them on that trail Overton,”

H

and the captain smiled grimly. suspected
that be was at the bottom of this resurrection.
They are welcome to all they can learn through
him I”

“ ’l‘hey’s more a-comin’, boss,” sobcrly added
the spy. “ They’ve bin up to the old ranch.
They was comin’ from thar when I fust struck
them. I knowed they was safe, an" so I Luck a

[vacant around. They d bin to the grave. It’d
hinfresh opened. An’ they was a skull layin’
toone side. It’d just bin dug up, for the dirt was
wet on it. I don’t know—”

The spy gave a convulsive start, whirled half-
we round, then fell heavily to the floor.

The three men seemed petrified with astonish-
ment. The spy had fallen like one death-strick—
en, yet no person had touched him; there had
been no report of gun or pistol.

Overton was the first to recover himself, and,

ing, he lifted the bod in his arms. Body,
for he spy was dead! et neither blood nor
wound was visible!

CHAPTER IV.
THE PINK DOMINO.

IN a hasty whisper Mark Bird told his cousin
what words had so strangely come to his ears,
but in vain they sought to discover the speaker.
All present appeared deele and solely interest—
ed in the turn taken by w at promised, at one
time, to end in a free fight.

r The young man who had so authoritatively

. interfered, after keenly ( ucstioning those

around him, was convinced that Colonel Over-

fon had acted solely in self-defense, and after

~' asking if the dead man had any friends present,

' bade two of his men convey the corpse to the
calaboose for identification. .

“You are satisfied, then, sheriff, that I am
not to blame for this little aifair?” politely asked
Oveil‘fon, holding a handkerchief to his lacerated

, “Quite. You acted just as I should. The
man must have been drunk or crazy." ,

“ They take matters cool enough l" said Ku'ke,
as the two cousins turned away from the scene
of blood. “But that voice—are you sure you
understood the words aright?”

“I heard them as plain as I hear myself.
But the proof is easy. If there is any such

‘ place in town as the Golden Harvest—”
» “ You couldn’t find a better place fer raal up—
3 an'-down fun in seven States. stranger l"

The cousins turned in surprise, for the prom t
l assertion seemed in answer to Mark’s wort s.

' A short, wiry little man was close behind them,

3 benignly upon them with his one green-
gray eye, and slowly nodding his head by
wa. of emphasis.
2 g ‘ Evenin , gentlemen. I don’t make it a p’int
"’ to cut in when ’tuin’t my deal, as a gen‘al thing,
A but you tetclied mo in my tender pint, then.”
i . This explanation did not lessen the surprise.
Thou h t era was but the one man within ear-
., shot, wo different voices were speaking at one
' . and the same time. And both voices uttered
. , the some words. The little man was winking
-’ , and blinking as he nodded before them, but his
' v lips did not appear to move.

There came a shrill, cackling chuckle, blend-
ing with a deeper, rumbling guffaw, and once
more the double voice was heard: '

“You‘re new in these parts, I reckon, gentle-
men or you’d hearn tell 0’ me ’fore this.
Double Dan, the sports call me. Does look
r der funn tell you git sort 0’ ’quainted.

They was a ig mistake made, some’rs, when I
.vas hatched. ’Pears like the ’tention was to
, have twins, but all two voices was putt into one
hark‘ldge—which is me. That’s why they call
me Deuble Dan,” and the little man nodded and
1‘ his one eye around in a manner so whim-
sical that. taking into consideration his ludi-
worousl combined voices, the cousins could not

not“ 11 their laughter.
‘ “The ‘3 money in it, too! Great sarpints! ef
. you ou only see me in a rampa ‘n’ jamboree
—on me wlettin’ off steam! you’ think they
was a. hull rijiment on the war-path! But you
was lkin’ of the Harvest, when I came up."

“ hat sort of place is it i" asked Mark.

“Tiger--lots on ’em! You kin chaw or git
chewed, jest as ea I”

“A gambling he , I suppose?"
' “ ye—squar’ deal, too! But onless ou’re

inok£ayou don’t want to invest. They 0 say
. tbs rp as runs it hes sold his soul to the. old

boy. I wouldn’t sw’ar it but of all the luck,
is file outdoinestl The game is run fn’r,
r I watched ’em three nights haw-run-

.\

   

  

  
   
 

 
 

  

   
   
 

  

  

 
       
   
    

I

        
  
 

   
 

 

 

Beadle’s Dime Library.

nin’, with a barker in each pocket, but I never
got a chaince to bu’st a cap. ’

“ it will be open tonight, I suppose?”

“ It don't never shot up.”

“ You appear pretty well posted,”intcrrupted
Howard. ‘Do you know a man named David
Woodson?”

“Imought,” was the slow response, and the
twinkling eye suddenly became fixed.

“There's fifty dollars in my pocket for the
poison that places me in communication with

nn.

" They‘s plenty in these parts as would do it
for less money, but my price runs higher.
Mobbe of you’i trom )on my corns. or lend me
a wipe on the. bugle, might ’connnodnte ye. I
kin show ye whar he putts up, elf you like-
Tliar’s my call,” he exclaimed. 3.311 shrill whistle
floated to their cars. “ Ef I kin, I’ll see ye to-
night at the Harvest,”

“ At last!” exclaimed Howard. his eyes glow—
ing. “ He knows our man: he shall lead us to
him at the muzzle of a revolver, if no other
means will do.”

“ Easy, old fellow. You heard him say that
he would meet us at the Harvest to—night. If
he refuses when he knows what we want, then
will be time enough to boil over. He cannot
give us the slip, anyway. That double voice
would mark him wherever he went.”

Shortly after su )per the cousins sallied forth,
having gleaned all necessary information from
the waiter who attended them at their meals.
The building was easily found; a commodious
structure, situated near the heart of the city.
A huge red glass globe hung over the doorway,
bearing the legend GOLDEN HARVEST. There
was no doorkecper. Admittance was free to
all. The large square room was fairly lighted
by a hu 6 chandelier depending from the ceil-
ing, ho ding a dozen oil lamps. The only
games in operation were three faro lay-outs,
at the upper end of the room. Near the back
were scattered a number of small round tables.

“The ’re doing a land-office business!“ mut-
tered ark, as his eye rapidly took in the crowd
with which each table was surrounded where
faro was being played. “ And there’s your
man with the two voices. I suspected him of
bein a ‘ on per,’ but he’s playing too earnestly
for t at. ow what’s the programme?”

“ You understand the game. Go play a little.
We may be watched. I’ll manage to get what
we want out of this fellow, Double Dan. Fla
money, not chips, so you can leave at a no .
There’sa place open; drop in,” muttered How-

ard.

Mark slipped into position at the center-table,
while Howard stood behind Double Dun. That
worthy was playing a keen, rapid, yet closely-
ealculated game, and every motion betrayed
how familiar he was with each detail. Yet ill-
luck followed every waver he made, the cards
turning against him without an exception. Yet
there could be no question of foul play, for the
bank was losing quite heavily at every deal.
For a few turns Double Dan sat idle. then placed
the smalI amount of his pile of chips upon the
pueen to win. A single turn, ant the queen
ost.

“Bu’stedl I’m goin’ to shoot myself—in the
neck 2” squeaked and rumbled Double Dan, aris-

m .

Hirke Howard caught his eye, and made a
covert signal. Double Dan winked ag’provingl ,
and crossing- the room to the side oard du y
shot himself in the neck—with a. glass of whisky.

“ Are you ready to earn that fifty, my
friend!" asked Howard, in a subdued tone, sce-
ing that the negro waiter was eying ‘them curi-

ous v.
“ No, I ain’t,” and Double Dan faced the young

man.

“Y said you would show me where he
lived—-

“Whar he putts upgstranger. I didn’t say
lives, fer that would a lie. The only Dave
Woodson I ever knowed, is dead; pegged out
ten- ear ago. ” ‘

“ mpossiblel I received a letter from him
not two months a 0, written in this very town I”

“Somebody sto 6 his name, then. I planted
Dave with my own han’s. That Injun Turn—over
wiped him out, I kin brin a dozen boys as
witnesses. Dave never wri you no letter,
’cause paper couldn’t stan’ the pressure whar he
is—not much i” grinned Double Dan.

Kirke Rowan stood like one dumbfounded.
If this David Woodson had died so long ago,
who had written the letter that now lay next
his heart, seeming to scorch his skin? Were the
contents a lie, aswell as the signature? Was
the mystery which haunted his life never to be
solved?

“My time‘s up, stranger,” said Double Dan.
at len h. “ Ef ever yca want to learn anythin’
more bout Dave that was, jest hunt up the
Rangers an’ ax fer Double Dan. So long, mate!"

Mechanically Kirke Howard returned the
salute, then dropped into a seat at one of the
round tables, troubled and bewildere l. Bowing
his head 11 n his arms, he remained motionless,
thinking, out to his surroundings. If any one
observed him. they fancied him dnink, and
passed him by without another thought.

When Mark Bird took his seat at the far.

 

   
 

 

table, he did not intend to let himself become
interested in the game, but there was a ice of
the true gamester in his composition, an as he
won several nominal stakes, he forgot the
warning of his friend, and soon had eyes for
nau rht save the game. Fortune stood his friend,
and e had won several hundred dollars, when
he became sensible of a faint, subtle perfume.
strangely out of place amidst that liquor and
tobacco—scented crowd. A light hand touched!
his shoulder, and a soft musical voico ultered:

“Pardon, senor. Oblige me by ‘coppering’
the knave.”

A small, neatlygloved hand was holding
several gold coins; a round white arm, a short
lace sleeve. 0. nch of dazzling purity and rare
shapclincss, then a pink satin mask from behind
which had issued the request. This is what
Mark saw as he raised his eyes in wonder.

“I wish to play—I cannot reach the table;
that is why I presumed to trouble you, senor,"
added the musical voice.

Flushing hotly, Mark rose from his seat mak-
ing way, unheeding the angry scowls am even
curses with which his crowding was greeted by
those to whom the sight ,of awoman at the
tables was not such a rarity. With the best
how he could command on the spur of the m0-

‘ ment. Mark begged her to accept his chair.

“ But I am spoiling your game, senor!"

“ I was playing simply to kill time. I would
much rather watch your play, if you will per—
mit me.”

“ You will learn little, I fear ” and tho dom—
ino laughed softly as she slipped into the prof-
fered seat. “ Your gold, senor. I did not beg
that, also,” and she motioned him to take up his
Winnings.

“ As a favor, please stake it for me. Fortune
must smile u on so fair :3. wooer,” Mark whisper—
ed, his lips a most touching her shell—like ear.

“'l‘ogcthcr, then," and the woman emptied a
purse of gold upon the little pile. “ IVewill be
partners, senor.”

“ For life. if you will, lady l” and as two won-
drous eyes flashed upon him through the link
domino, Mark felt that the words, rompte by
a spirit of gallantry, were repeatoi in his heart
of carts.

For one moment their eager eyes met, then
the mask turned her head and placed gold upon
several of the cards. One versed in the game
would have seen that she was bettin at ran—
dom, and, his icy calm broken by this discov-
ery the dealer elevated his eyebrows with a curi-
ous glance. He saw Mark bending over the
mask, whispering in her ear, and his lip curled
with an amused contempt. He saw that another
and (lee or game was being played.

“ My ast stake—and lost !’ laughed the mask.
“ No, senor,” as Mark eagerly produced his
pocket-book. “I will lay no more this even—
ing. I am unlucky. esidcs, it is very close in
this crowd. I am almost stifled!”

“Pray allow me,” and Mark drew her little
hand through his arm. “ It is cooler over here,
and we can converse without fear of being over-
board. You will favor me for a few moments?"

“I shall be glad of the rest. I was very fool“
ish in comin here: and yet—1 do not regret it.”

Mark thril ed from head to foot at this speech,
for it was—or else fancy deceived him—accom-
panied by the faintest im trinable pressure upon

is arm. He tried to spe , but for the life of
him he could not utter a word just then. So—
lecting a corner table, he beckoned to the waiter
and ordered refreshments.

“I have been wondering when and where we
have met before tonight,” he said, at len h.
“ Though you so cruelly conceal your face, am
almost certain that this is not our first meet—

in .n / .

g‘ I was at the sports, to—day. I saw you, so-
nor. It was a very brave act, your risking your
life for that boy.”

“ ’Twas nothing—and you recognized me,
again?”

“ Yes. Only for that, I would not have
thought of playing to night. I saw you. I felt
that must speak to you. Do not think me too
bold in admitting this. senor. I am a Spanish
woman. We are ruled by warm hearts, rather
than cold reason. And yet—I see now that I
was wrong. What an opinion you must have
formed of me!"

With a half-choked sob, the domino bowed her
head upon her hands. Forgetting where he was
—for ‘ettin that a. hundred e es might be
watc 'n his every gesture—Mar ' stole one arm
around he dainty waist, and gently took

session of her hands. But with a swift, eel- ike

motio the mask freed herself, with an exclama-
tion of elf-anger, half-reproach casting a swift
glance around as though fearing  rash act had
attracted observation.

A low, gas ing smmd rted her lips, and she
sat as thou petrified, er eyes riveted upon
tit: face 0 a man who had just entered thel
room. Mark followed the direction of her
glance, and recognized the white-bearded man
who had performed so hold an act in rescuing
the injured man at the bull—fight.

Unconscious of the interest he was canning.
the stranger used at the mountable, and Mr

I .

   

tereda sound. Thodeolerruisodlf~..
eyegurgshsdidngtwnodpoleudeatb.

 
  

 

 

 

 

      
    
       
      
 
    
    
     
 
     
    
      
      
   
   
  
 

      
 
 
     
 
 

 

 

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~ true, althoug

    
     
    
 
   

, of horrible confusion followed.

. sleepm

' ihould be, have no

- frlend,” uttered the gray-beard, in a deep. yet

pleasant-sounding voice.

“ There is no limit," slowly droppcd from the
gamblcr’s lips.

“ Good!" and tho stranger's voice rung out
sharply. “ I choose the ace to win, and wager
this, and my life against, yours !”

As he spoke the stranger dropped a heavy
buck-skin bag upon the table his glowing eyes
seeming to pierce the dea er through and
through.

Players and s )ectators alike drcw aside.
There was something in the stran
that awed them. The dealer g anced swiftly
around the room, then, placing a cocked revol—
ver before him, he ran the deal.

‘ ‘ The ace wins—— claim my stakes and blend—
ed with the wild, exultant words, the stranger’s

m

. pistol explodes.

The dealer fell forward, dead. A heavy chair
whistled through the air, and the chandelier
was shattered to atoms. All was dark. A scene
Mark Bird
ras ed the pink domino, but ere he could move
urt er he was stricken to the floor!

CHAPTER V.
NEWS THROUGH THE wmoow. ‘
MARK BIRD opened his eyes, and stared
around him in stupid amazement. He found
himself in a small, square room, through the

 

‘ one window of which the red beams of the set—

ting sun were streaming. He believed that he
could recognize the room, but what had occur-
red—why did his head feel so ucer?

At the sound he made, Kir 6 Howard came
forward, and as he peered into the wideopen
6 es of his cousin, a bright, glad smile chased
t 10 uneasy expression from his face.

“Good enough old fellow! How do you think
you find yourself after the racket ’9”

“ All mixed up! That sun yonder should be
the moon, this room is too small, you ain’t half
the crowd you should be—and my head’s as big
as a bushel-basket! What does it all mean, and
where was I'when it took place? That’s what
gets me I”

“ It’s all right end up, Mark,” laughed Kirke. '
“ You drink this stuff, like a little man, and I’ll
rub the cobwebs out of your eyes. Somebody
lent you a little tap, last night, and you’ve been
ever since. ”

“Am the lady—what of her?" eagerly inter-
rupted Mark. -

“All in good time. Do as I bid you, or I’ll
not open my head for a week—that’s flat!" and
Howard he (I the draught to his patients lips.

Mark, making a virtue of necessity, meekly
swallowed the potion, then lay back upon his
pillow with an expectant look in his feverish
e was. Howard loo ed at him closely, and saw
that nothing less than a full explanation would
quiet him.

“ You remember where we went that eve-

"ma/57,

“ ast night? of course. To the Golden Har-
vest," promptly responded Mark. “I remem-
ber all, up to when the lights went out. Some-
body struck me, I suppose?”

" Somebody or somethin . You know I left
you, to yet what we wante to learn, out of that
Double an. I managed to get him to one side,
and pumped him. He said that David Woodson
was (lead—that he buried him, himself—ten

ears a r0 1”

“ But that letter! he was lyinm—vou did not
offer him enough ” interrupted ‘ ark, excited.

“ Ho swears that some one else must have
written the letter. He offered to bring a dozen
witnesses to prove that the genuine David
Woodson was dead, and buried. He spoke no
more than the truth, as I am now convinced. I
have hunted up the witnesses and heard their
story. I rode over to Buzzard’s Roost, where
the grave is. I opened the grave, and found the

roof. III a fight with the gi‘eusors Woodson

ad his skull broken, and the surgeon mended it
with a Spanish dollar marked with a cross.
found that dollar: and here it is.”

Mark fingered the curious relic thou rhtfully.
The mystery of that letter troubled ‘liim. f
not Woodson, then who did write it? If the
si nature was false, could any dependence be
p wood 11 n the rest?

“ My t oughts were the same, at first,” added
Kirke, reading the doubts of his cousin. “ But,
don’t for at what we discovered at the old
ranch. e know ,that the wron man was
buried there. Since liawas not ki ed with the
others, he maybe alive still. The letter may be

the name of a dead man was
signed to it.’

‘ Where is this Buzzard’s Roost—Ahow far

‘ from here?” ‘

“ Nearly sixt miles, south-west from here.”
“You must ave ridden hard,” said Mark,

d l .

IIXIywas anxious,” hastily re lied Kirke; “and
did not s my horse. at let that pass.
About! night. I was seated at a table'not
far awgiy When you left off playing for a softer

me. ,
“Easy, Kirkel That lady--”

WEuc . That lady was everything she
doubt. Atflmlwas even

er’s demeanor ‘

 
 
  

H N Equality Eph.

 

 

inclined to envy you your luck—and that ou
know, is saying a good deal for me. e l, I
watched you; if you will have your interviews
take place in a public room, you can expect no
less. I saw the lady start whcn that man with
‘ the big white board entered, and naturally that

drew my attention to him. I heard his wager,
l and saw the end. I saw the chair sail through
the air and knock the chandelier to pieces, and
I know right well what would follow. I shouted
to you, but the uproar was so great that I could
hare] ' hear my own voice. Some one sprung
swiftly past me, so close that my clothes were
touched. I stumbled forward, falling over you.
You were lying flat upon your back, and as I
fell, my hand rested upon your breast. There
was a hand in your pocket. I felt it distinctly.
though only for a moment; then it was jerked
away. But in that brief instant, I know that
the hand was small and delicate; and it was
gloved.”

“ You don't mean—I won’t believe it!" cried
Mark, his eyes glowing vividl .

“ I am simply telling you w iatI experienced.
You must draw your own conclusions,” quietly
responded Kirke. “I made a blind grasp in the
dark, and my hand CIOsed upon a round, bare
arm. Before I could make sure of my prize, I
received a severe blow upon the head, and fell
again almost senseless.

“ All this time the gayest kind of a circus was
going on over and around the faro tables, and

could hear the bullets sputtering all around
us. I managed to drag you into one corner,
and crouched down over you; it was the best I
could do, for I was too faint to hear you out;
side. even if I could have made way through the
crowd. A few minutes latcr——it seemed as
many hours to inc—tho sheriff entered at the
head of his men, and quellcd’tho row as by
magic. Lights were brought in, and damages
counted up. It was a sickly-looking outfit. The
furniture was shattered, the banks gobbled, and
three poor follows laid out for good.

As soon as I could,I get help and had you
carried in here, after giving our names and ad-
drcss to the sheriff, in case we should he want—
ed. Then I hunted up a doctor—and here you
are."

“What was the matter with me? Anything
besides a rap on the head?"

“ Nothing; but that was quite enough. You
have lain like a log ever since. I’ve not taken
off my clothes for three—” Kirke hit his lip,
but the mischief was done.

“You did not spare your horse, old fellow,
and you needn‘t s )are me,” laughed Mark.
" Tell me how long have lain here?”

“ This is the third day, if you will have it."

.“ That accounts for my feeling so hollow,

then! And I‘m hun 'y enough to eat a live
wolf. Suppose you s (irnnsh around and scare

me up a supply of grub. Don’t be too stingy
about it, neit or."

Relieved at Mark‘s bearing the discover of
his long stu or so well, Howard hastene to
obey, and Wien he returned with a heaping
tray, he found his cousin up and dressed, look—
ing little the worse for his narrow escape from
death. Mark laughed at his look of consterna—
tion, and pitched into the viands with a vigor
that, more than aught else, reassured Kirke.

“ You say you watched us,” Mark fluall u‘l-
tered, though with an evident effort. “ ‘ ind,
now, I won’t believe a single word a ainst her;
you can’t change my trust and faith in her, but

‘m curious to learn just what you thought of
her, anywa '. Come, now!”

“ I thoug it her actions were those of one who
was using every )cssible art to gain a certain

end. It is possib e that love was at the bottom
of it all: but since 1 could take my oath that I
felt her hand in your breast-pocket, and caught
hold of her arm a moment later, I can only be-
lieve that she was after the papers you carried
in that very pockct not a ( ozen hours before.
And she would have had them, too, only for
your pocket getting torn at the show. ’v

Mark was about to reply, when there was a
crashing of lass, and a small missile fell upon

‘the. table. T 1e broken pane of glass told whence
it had come, and with one accord the cousins
s )rung to the opening. The street was deserted.
. ot adiving being was to be seen. Howard ran
down-stairs and outside, but his search was in
vain. Nor were his questions better rewarded.
No ierson had been noticed upon that side of
the lease.

“It is a letter,” said Mark, as he returned,
pointing to a bit of per which had been neat-
y wrap 1 around a pebble.

“If a1 mail is delivered in a like manner, I
wonder who pays the glazierl’” but Howard’s
laugh was anything but natural as he picked up
the strangely-delivered missive.

The contents were brief, but significant, and
read as follows: I
“ Msssss. Ilowuui & Bum: -

“GENTLl‘IMl-IN—You are working a blind land
here. There was an error in the letter you received.

For San Antonio, read Han Marcos. For certain
reasons. allot which will be duly explained, D. W.
is unable to meet on here. If you are ready to
follow up the hint a has given on, take the trail

or Sm Marcos to-morrow. As there for Chris.

Morris. Be 11 3 his instructions and ,wlllplace you
in eommunic tlon With D. W.“ .

 

 

, long out of practice with the ion.

 

The note was without a signature, unless a. ‘
rude drawing at the bottom of a anish dollar,
crossed, may be said to be a signa urc.

In silence Howard produced a letter from his
pecket—book and compared the two. Both had
been writtcn by a hand that had evidently been
. Except in
this rcspcct there was no similarity whatever
between the two.

The. cousins consulted lon ' and earnestly. Ass
sured as they wore that avid \‘Vomlson wag;
dead and buried, they could not banish the sum,
picion that there was a deep plot workingl
against them. And yet—there was one. grain
of truth in the first letter. It told them that the
man who had been buried nearly twenty long
years ago was not the man whose name was
cancd upon the rude wooden headboard that
marked t in grave.

“ We will go and see, ‘at length decided How-
ard. “There is no use in our waitin here.
There may be something in it. If not—1f there
is mischief meant, we are not infants. Our
bands can guard our heads.”

Their courso of action fairly settled, the
cousins lost little time. They made all neces—
sar preparations, and by questioning the land-
lor , found that San Marcos was distant some
fifty miles. A visit was paid the surgeon, who
stated that by ridin early and late, lying over
during the heat of t 0 day, Mark might make
the trip without fear of a relapse. ,.

That evening Mark stole forth alone to see if
he could learn anything concernin the ink
domino, but without success. She p-
pcared as might a veritable vision.

Early in the morning the cousins rode out of
San Antonio—rode forth to mcct their fatel

CHAPTER Vl.
‘ BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

Camsrmo slowly, silently through the tall
grass and reeds, now pausing beside a treeotruuk
or clump of bushes, now gliding swiftly across
an 0 )en, grassy space, with glittering black
eyes eat to the ground as though reading a
trail. An untniined eye would have seen neth-
iug, yet the experienced trail-hunter knew
right well that his my had missed that way,
not an hour ourlicr. e could trace the outlines
of a small, inm'casined foot where the 3118- ‘
blades seemed perfect and unbroken; he could. i
point to a single upturned lcat’ among hundreds,
and say: the passage of a human form did this.

“finding throu rh the tangled shrubbery. the
trailer reaches tie sloping bank of the little .
river. The mocciisinod footprints are still be~ ‘
fore him. He knows that his prey is near, for
they lead down the clayey bankto the water’s '
edge. IIe slowly parts the leafy branches and
cautious] ' pccrs forth. A peculiar glow fills his
e 'es, am his llpl curl in an exultunt smile until.

t 10 white, pointed teeth glisten like the fangs of
a panther. Ho withdraws his head like a turtle
into its shell, and utters the harsh, 'arring
screech of the blue-jay. From across t a deep
but narrow and sluggish stream comes th" :-
dicrous fwerfle—lwcrflc—Iwecuc of its mate. ‘,

Once more he peers forth. Ills victim re-
mains motionless. The sounds are too cor." con
and too well executed to arouse suspicion that
evil is brewing. 1n silence he retreats and as
stealthil strikes the river a few rods further 
down. ust beneath him is the dirt-crowned
roots of a tree which has fallenjnto the water,
its broken top nearly touching the ‘o posits ' ,
shore. Upon a rude scat, improvised with , 1 I
sticks and grass, near the center of the stream,

a young woman’is seated, fishing. So the slen-
der ole she is holding would in( icate,but there .7"
is a ar-away expression upon her fair face, a.
dreamy look in her deep-h uo eyes that tell of
a heart and mind far away from her present
occupation. ‘ '

The dark face of the trailer flushed hotl ' and,
an evil look filled his eyes as he loate hpon
every detail of that fair face and Iorious tum.

A wondering oath broke from his i .. . ‘

“I have been blind as a molel '10 think that
I have let such a treasure escape me for years! ,
She is lovelicr than her mother ever was-and I ‘
waded through blood for her] There is many
a chief would give me a fortune for such a

uawi”

n his eagerness to gain a, less obstructed
view of the fair flsher the trailer bore too nea- v ,. 
vily upon the edge of the bank, and a portion
of earth gave way. He made a. desperate effort
to recover his balance, but in vain. Amused
by the rattle of falling clods, the maiden.
aroused from her reverie. glanced hastilny
around just in time to catch a glim )seof the
spy as he rolled down the bank and disappear-l,
ed behind the with—covered roots of the tree.
She started up in alarm, but ere she could make ‘
any attem t at escape thc head of the spy was .
elevated :1 vs the moiuid, and a voieo address. ,1" *

   
   
   
   
    
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
   
 
    
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
   
 
   
 
  
   
  
 
     
  
  
 
          
   
  
  
  
  

v

 

 

ed her:
“ Don't be alarmed, Miss Minnie. I just sto
pad to ask what luck you‘ve had, fishing.” ‘

There was something in the words, added to‘
the mud-bedaubed visage, that caused the maids“ ‘
en to laugh, despite her fright. But this was

abruptly cut short as the man drew himself up .
and ea 1‘ htly upon the treestruhk. thus '

l .

cutting er 0 from the shore. IStooplng,

_ 1118.

6

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

from his face. Then, seated upon the tree-trunk,
he produced tobacco and a pipe, coolly eying the
youn woman while he loaded the pipe and
struc a match. Then, with a quiet smile, he
repeated his uestion:

‘Wliat luc have on had fishing, my dear?”

“None. It is a ban day. I am going back to
the house. Stand aside and let me pass, Colo-
nel Ovei‘ton,” shortly replied Minnie Lamb,
winding up her line.

“Your tience is in fault, not the fish or
weather, innie. Throw in again, and if you
don’t catch abite in ten minutes I’ll forfeit a
new dress,” drawled Overton, not movinvr.

“I want nothing of your dress—still css of
you,” ano‘rily replied the girl. “Stand aside,
or I’ll call’for hol .”

“ To whom? he house is empty, for I stop-
ped there first. The old woman and her white
nigger have gone to Austin, on purpose to leave
me a clear field.”

“ ’Tis falsei” and Minnie stamped her foot in
anger. “They have nothing in common with
you. They loathe and hate you—-I have heard

hem say so a thousand times.”

“ Did you ever hear them say why?” grinned
Overton. “I can tell you. Because the fear
Because I hold a secret of theirs; in the
hollow of my hand rests their life or death.
'VVith one word I could give them over to the
rope. This is why they hate me—and it is one
reason why they have gone away and left you
alone this do . I warned them that 1 was com-
ing here to c aim my rights. I gave them their
choice: to tell you the whole truth, or else to go
away on some pretense and leave the matter to
me. Because they were too tender—hearted—
that‘is the excuse they made; they had learned

' to love you so—bahl what matter? They are

.

gone; we are here together. I to claim my na-
tural rights; you, to 'ield obedience.”

“ You are either ruiik or craz . In either
case I will not listen to your falsehoods any

longer. Stand aside and permit me to pass,
quietly, or—”

“Or what?” sneered Overton, as Minnie
paused.

“I will clear the way myself!” cried the
maiden, winging her fishing— ole around with a
swift motion, straight for his iead.

But Overton flung out one hand and received
the stroke upon his palm, then holding the pole
as in a vise, laughing at Minnie’s vain attempt
.to wrest it free.

“You are your father’s daughter, all over!”
he said, approvingly.

' “If he were here you would not be laugh-

111".”

a Indeed! prgy who told you anything about
your father? .ou were too young to remember
much, and I am irotty confident that pair of
Lambs never spohce of him where you could
hear. I suppose you mean our friend, Fiddling
Hector, when you speak of father?”

“ Be is m father—you would not dare call
him that to is face!” panted Minnie, her eyes

’ afiame.

, drop of their blood flows in our veins.

 

“ I have called him worse, many a time,”
snoored Overton, pressing down the urning to—
bacco, “ He is my dog, to come and go at my
book and nod. His wife is the better man of
the two, but she, too, is under mythumb. I ad-
mit that they have called you their child, and
liavotaised you as such; but there is not one
And if
you knew all, you would t ank Heavon upon
your bonded knees that such is the case.”

“ If they are not my parents, then who am I?
ButI will not believe it! You are 1 'ng to me
-—it is false from beginning to end!’ cried the
maiden; but she diojp ed the 1e—-—tho sole bar-
rier between her an lIiJim, whi e her frame quiv-
ered with strong agitation.

“ You do believe it—something in your’ heart
tells you that what I say is true, ’ uttered Over-
ton; in a changed voice, his eyes holding the
maiden enchained as a serpent charms the flut—
tering bird. “ You feel that those two are not

our parents. Already your heart disowns
{hem You feel that you come of better blood
—higher birth; and you re ri ht. I can tell

ou of your parents, and am t e only person
iving who can do so, for their lips are sealed.”

“Tell mc—of my mother—” faltered Minnie,
speaking like one in a dream or under mesmeric

' influence.

Overtou smiled as he saw this. In that mo-
ment he looked like the very rince of evil.
Never moving his burning gaze. mm the maid-
cn’s eves, he spoke, slowly:

“ The woman you have been taught to lieve
your mother, has—or had until yestcr ay—a
gold locket and chain. In that locket are two
portraits—W V

“Of her mother and father. I have seen
them,” uttered Minnie, mechanically.

" So she told you; but she lied. The originals
of those portraits were of no kin to her. You
have seen them, you say? Was there nothing
familiar—did the sight arouse no old, almost
forgotten memories in your heart? Look again
—cat(:h!” '

As he spoke Overton tossed the girl a small

'medallion locket and chain. Still acting as

though under some subtle spell, Minnie touched

filled his hands with water and washed the mud '

‘liead, with all the force of the maiden’s arm.

 

 

the spring. The locket opened, revealing two

fairly executed portraits on ivory. For a brief

1slpacie she gazed in silence, then slowly shook her
ea .

“ Hang it around your neck. Guard it well,
for that trinket is worth a heavy ransom. So;
you cannot remember. And yet, those are the ‘
faces of your own father and mother.”

The maiden started, and for a moment it
seemed as though she would lose her foothold,
but grasping a broken branch, she struggled
bravely to conquer her a dtation.

“I am tellin you not iin r more than I can
rove,” added verton, knoc ing the ashes from
is pipe. “ It is along story, but the rincipal

points can be summed up in a few wor s. I saw
your parents married. They were intimate
friends of mine, though the)r were rich and
proud, while I was but a wild, untrained lad
fresh from the prairies. Some day 1 will tell
you how we became friends; I have not time
now. When you were three years old there was
a terrible tragedy. A house was robbed, set
fire. and burned down. There was talk of even
worse——of murder. Two charred bodies were
taken from the ruins: those of a man and a we
man. It was supposed that a little child had
been totally consumed. But that part was
false. The child was saved; for what purpose,
and how, you will learn later. One man com~
mitted the crime, though his wife helped him to
plan it. He was a soft, half-sillyfellow, and the
sight of the blood his hand had shed, unsettled
his brain still more. They fled, and took the
child with them. I struck a clew, followed it
up, and finally run them toearth.

“ That man and wife were Hector and Nancy
Lamb; the child—can you not guess?”

“You expect me to believe this?” and there
was the old, proud ring to her voice as she drew
her lithe form erect. “I will—when you re-
peat it face to face with my father and mother
——not before. Your eyes tell me that you are
lying’.’ I will listen to you no longer. Let me

ass!

“ What I have told you is truth, whether on
believe it or not. hen you leave this ree
you accompany me. If you are curious to know
why, there has a large fortune been left to your
parents or their heirs. Through you, I intend
to finger that money. With this intention I
have claimed you of the Lambs. Come—there
is no use in pla 'ing shy.”

As he spo e olonel Overton arose and slow]
approached the maiden, seeking to hold her wit
his burning gaze, as he had but a brief time be-
fore. He smiled triuuiphantl , for he believed
that he was succeeding, for Minnie stood as mo-
tionless as a statue of stone.

He extended one hand to grasp her arm. T
maiden suddenly stooped, evading his ras ,
and with a desperate effort fairly pushe him
from the log, into the water, then sprung for-
ward and grasped the hickory fishing-pole. He
arose to the surface, making an effort to grasp
the log, but the heavy pole descended upon his

Stunned, he sunk beneath the surface, and
Minnie sprung ashore—only to find herself close
locked in brawny, naked arms!

CHAPTER VII.
HECTOR’S MISTRESS.

AT the very moment when Minnie Lamb was
checked in her bold attempt to escape the toils
so cunning] y wound around her, Hector Lamb
was performing an even more desperate at;
tempt. Long before that day’s dawn, the pair
of line ually matched lambs had started for
Austin in the old dirty-white tilted wagon. Mis-
tress Nancy was iii a more than usual acrid hu-
mor' her biting tongue wagged with the swift
regu arit of the flywheel of a machine work-
inr doub e tides. Meekly the giant submitted
to is tongue-lashing, but as the team of ragged
mules bore them nearer the end of their jour-
ney, a wild, darin and tremendous plot was
slowly shaping itse f in the half-addled brain of
Hector Lamb. Could his better-half have read
his thoughts? Luckily for Hector, she did not
even sus ct.

“ You onhitch the team, and mind—you stay
by while they’re eatin’, an’ see nobody don’t
steal thar feed: on hear?” sharply cried Mis-
tress Nancy, as s e sprun to the ground and
loaded her meek slave wit the various articles
of “ arden truck,” butter and eggs, which it
was Ear pur se to trade out.

In silence ector unloaded himself, then left
the store as Nancy supposed to faithfully carry
out her instructions. ' ad she only eyes in the
back of her head!

Slip ing behind the door and assuring himself
that s e was not eerin through the crack,
Hector Lamb clenc ed his fist and recklessly
shook it at the center panel of the door.

“ Yer mother chawed snufi? yer father was a
hog-thief : ’nd you dassent ta e it u i!"

The panel stared at him blankly. ith a con—
tem tuous sniff, Hector Lamb slouched his rag-
ged at over one eye, inflated his mighty chest,
and with nose high in the air he turned his back
upon his charge and sailed down the street with
a lofty air of independence that caused’ more
than one acquaintance to stare after him in ‘!
mute amazement. This did not escape Hector’s

 

:2 1.42.3.1.  ,

 

 

eye, and his newly-found bravery was not a
little flattered thereat. With a reckless disre-
gard of conse<yences he returned their greeting
and declared hat they‘must join him in cele-
brating his birthday. urning into a convenient
saloon, his health was drunk with all due sol-
emnity.

“You’re -lookin’ wonderful peart to—day,
Heck,” and the speaker winked an aside to his
fellows. “ I see on an’ the old woman come
in. She was lookin’ kinder down in the mouth,
I thought. You keep too tight a rein on her.
pard. Better give her head, oncet in awhile——
they works all the kinder for it.”

“It’s eas to tell you never was married,
Tom,” quot l Hector, loftin eying the grinning
Texan and pushing his glass over for another
supply of Dutch courage. “You slack up on
the lines jest one inch, an’ the durned, con—
trairy critters ’ll stri the harness like a mice.
You cain’t tell me. ’ve bin thar—I hevl For
instance. You know my old woman. They
ain’t a kinder-hearted, quieter critter in seven
States than she is—long as she feels the cuirb.
She went jest like a clock. But you know me.
I’m so durned soft-hairfed. I thought it looked
kinder low down fer a big, overgrowed lummix
like me to be settin’ down on her all the time.
So I did as you say. I let up on the cairb. How
did the thing work? They was a hummin’—bird
on wheels, right off, an’ that hummin’-bird was
my old woman. You could ’a’ knocked me over
With a com—stalk, gentlemen. I didn’t think it
was in her. An’ yit, it wasn’t bad to take. I
kinder liked it, fe a change. But it’s jest like
them wiminen. lien they git a soft thin ,
they never know when to let up. No more 3 e
didn’t. She jest peeled an’ went in fer the hull
hog. I tried the cairb, but she jest kicked u
an’ tore the hi‘eechin’ all to thunder. Then
knowed the time was come fer me to putt my
foot down. I says to her, says 1, ‘Nancy, you
need a dressin’ down, an’ what you need ’m
duty boun’fer to rive ye.’ then she see how I
spoke, she cooled own, an’ promised to do bet-
ter of I’d only fergive—”

‘ You, Hoe—tor!” v

The stem husband turned toward the door,

nd he knew that Nemesis had overtaken him.

er eyes glowing, her face white with rage, Mis—
tress Nancy stood upon the threshold, a black—
snake whip in her hand. She had overheard
the poor braggai‘t’s boasting. The very enor—
mity of his sin was his safeguard for the pres-
ent.

lVith an air that was almost queenly, she
stepped into the room and pointed to the door
her eyes transfixing Hector. Without a word
he slunk out of the room, not heedin‘f the voice
of the bar-tender, who clamored lou ly for pay
for the liquor consumed.

“You can come to me fer pay,"(}uietly re-
sponded Mrs. Lamb. ” I’ll pay you ong’s m
whip holds out, and then I’ll buy another!”
pistol-like crack of the wicked black-snake em-
phasized her threat, and with one white glare of
contemptuous defiance she left the room.

She found Hector at the wagon, nnhi-tching
the mules.

“ Gimme that wallet you stole out o’ my redi-
cule. Ef ou’ve spent a cent, it ’11 be the wuss
fer you. ow mind: you stay right here. You
don’t want to let me go huntin’ you up ag'in.”

That was a miserable ride home for poor Hec'
tor. There was no possibilitv of escape, and
Dame Nancy made good use of her opportunity.
Dull and thickvskinncd as he was, it is a ques
tion whether Hector did not suffer more acutely
beneath her barbed-tongue than he,would had
she made use of the pliant black-snake.

The afternoon was over half—spent when the I

ill-mated couple reached their home. Hector’s
dull eyes li hted up, for he saw a faint hope of
escaping t t terrible tongue, for a. time at
least. ,

Nanc gave an ominous snifl, as nothing was
seen of innie.

“ It’s that pesky Dashin' Ned, I s’ 321 No

sooner is my back turned then everyt in’ must‘

rive wav to loverin’ an’ sich like nonsense. You
innie! ’

“ ’Tain’t the ca ’11,” ventured Hector. “ He’s
over Broad Prairie way. I beam it at Austin—"

“ ’Tend to the critters aii’ let that shot your
trap,” snapped Nancy. “I hearn somethin’ at
Austin you won’t forgit overly soon!”

Hector meekly obeyed. ancy entered the
house to dofi‘ her “ best things,” but at the first
step across the threshold, she paused with an ex-
pression of horror. U on the white, well-scour-
ed floor was a track, t efimprint of a Ion , nar-
row moccasin in red mud. Robinson rusoe
may have experienced a greater terror at sight
of the Track, but he could not have been more
thoroughly excited than was our housewife at
the desecration of her hearth. She raised her
voice and called to Hector, a ringing, ominous
summons that he dared not delay in answering
but leavin his mules half-ungeared he shambled
into the ca in.

“ Blow the horn for Minnie,” said Nancy, and
there was a strangely subduedpadence to her
voice that caused the giant’s big eyes .to open
wide. “ Somebody’s bin yore, ma ’ mischief. "

. While Hector blew blast after blast 'upon the
crooked ox-horn, Nancypum‘ied 1161‘va

. .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Equality N Eph. r

 

 

tions. She found that their one little hair-bound
trunk had been ransacked, and then she felt con-
winced of the worst. The object she was look-
ing for was gone. There was only one man liv-
ing who knew its real value; the man, as she
. .v believed, who had left that muddy foot-
print upon the floor.

“ She’s gone a-fishin’, I reckon,” suggested
I lgctm‘, as half an hour assed without anything

 

l eiug seen or heardpf t 1e missing girl. “ The
line‘s gone.”
“ Run up the river to the Big Eddy. ’F she

rin’t thai‘, make haste back an’ conic on down,"
briefly commanded Nancy.

Hector obeyed with truly wonderful alacrity
. or one of his sluggish disposition, but his seai‘c
i. as vain. He knew, too, that Minnie had not
. ed the Big Eddy that day, else the moist
c. rtli would have betrayed the fact, by contain-
ing: the imprint of her feet.

As he was returning to the house, he heard
the shrill voice of his wife pronouncing his
name, in a tone that seemed ono of alarm or
:lso great excitement. 011gr pausing at the
wagon to snatch up his rifle, ectoi‘ ran swiftly
(i1)‘~'n the river-bank, nor paused until he reach—
«wl the side of his wife. Her face was white and
hardened, and bore an air of almost desperate
resolution.

Without a word she pointed to the moist clay
.:.t her feet. Hector stooped, his usually dull
z'yes glaring luridly.

The ground bore unmistakable evidence of a
stubborn strug la, in the different footprints
lhzit crossed an half obliterated one another.
.\inong them he saw a small, daintily—formed
1. rack that spoke only too plainly. He knew that
his little Minnie had made it; he knew that she
l-zrl fought nony for freedom, if not life; and
he know, too, that her efforts had been in vain.
All this the footprints told him.

“ Injunsl” he muttered, hoarsel , as he arose.
~" They’ve stole away my little ga ! but I‘ll fol—
lcr ‘em—I’ll hunt ’em down ef it takeSa lifc—
time!”

“There’s more yet,” said Nancy, with an
awful calmness. “ Go down the bank—look ini-
(lot the roots. You’ll see thar’s more than In-
juns in this black work.” .

Hector obeyed, and paused beside the pile of
dirt and roots just where Colonel Overton had
brought up in his roll down the bank. In the
stiffening mud was the imprint of a human hand
:15 clear and distinct as though taken by a pro-
fessional modeler. The little finger had been
cut oil? at the middle ‘oint; near its base was the
imprint of a broad, p ain ring.

As he stared at this tell-tale mark, a dull.
grayish shade crept over the settlers face, and
there was an ex ression of abject terror in his
cycs as he silent y climbed up the bank.

“ You see now who did it,” uttered Nancy,
in slow, stern voice. “I knowed it would
so. Thar ain’t one dra. 0’ true blood in his
ugly karkidge! He stoe the locket an’ he’s
stole the girl. Come! we’re losin’ time. ( lit
the mules ready. I’d ruther the girl was dead
then in his hands!”

“ He’ll murder us—you fergit What he said,”
muttered the settler, brushing the cold sweat
from his brow.

“ He’s broke his word; we kin break ours.
I’m goin’ of I hev to go alone. But if you play
the coward now, when she needs your help, you
an’ me is two from that ininnit."

“They’s a dozen of 'ein—not countin’ him.
You’ll only git massacrecd. It’s pritty nigh
dark an’ we cain’t foller the trail.”

Nancy clutched at a stout stick, a dangerous
fire in her eyes and Hector. trembling with a
strange terror though he was, started on a run
I’orfthe cabin, closely followed by his better-
hal .

The sun was setting when she emerged once
more from the cabin, bearing a bundle of pro-
visions and an. old rifle. A leather belt was
around her waist, supporting a knife and a
brace of revolvers. S e climbed into the rag-
ged saddle, signing to Hector to mount the other
mule.

“Strike out fer Broad Prairie, ’5 straight as
you kin!”

 

 

CHAPTER VIII.
A FAIR ROAD—AGENT.
“HALT! gentlemen; on are my prisoners.
Move one fin or toward, drawing a 'weapon.
and that wil be the end of your earthly
troubles!” ‘

The two horsemen~Kirke Howard and Mark
Bird, the cousins—mechanically drew rein with
simultaneous exclamations of wondering amaze-
ment. And well theymight. Little sus ecting
any impending danger, they were riding )riskly
along. thinkingpnly of the cool shade and re-
pose which awaited them at the thick clum of
timber just ahead, to reach which they had Iloftr
the trail only a few minutes before. But in-
stead of a comfortable rest a most disagreeable
surprise greeted them.

A small, but fiery anr beautifully-formed
mustang, spotteddike a pard, dashed out from
the thick undergrowth, and its rider, holding a
cocked and leveled revolver in each hand,
sharply uttered the threatening challenge.

mute amazement the cousins stared at the road-
.D V

1

l

 

In“

'7

 

agent. Undeniably brave though they were,
and posseming the advantage of numbers, neic
thcr made any attempt to draw a Weapon.
Why?

Bccause the road-agent whose weapons cov-
ered their hearts was a woman I

“ You appear astonished, gentlemen," and the
fair road-agent laughed softly. “You are not
accustomed to seoin r woman‘s rights carried to
such an extreme.
where all thin vs are possible.
jesting. You have not answered my challenge.
Will you surrender peaceably, or must I per—
suade you ?"

“ We would have paid, the toll far more will—
ingly had you trusted to your natural wea«
poms,” replied Mark, quickly recovering his
wonted audacity. “That Would be a triumph
worthy on and not shaming us.
one’s ga lantry hard, when you try to enforce
homage at the muzzle of the pistol, lady.”

“Bah! do I look like one to beg for what I
can command? You think soft words are all
that is necessary, because I am o. woman. 1 re-
peat that you are my prisoners. Will you sur—
render ( uietly—"

“Without meaning any offense, madam or
n1iss,"interru )tvd Howard, in a tone of iin u-
tience, “we have no time for jcsting. ur
business is pressing. And so—a fair good-day
to you.”

‘ Stop!" sharply cried the woman, and as she
spoke one of her revolvers exploded, and How-
ard's hat flew from his head. “ Another move-
ment like that and I will send the mate of that
bullet through your brain. Your livcs are at
my mercy, but I would not have your blood
upon my hands, unless you force me. For cer-
tain reasons I wish totake you captive; but take
you I will, dead or alive!"

“ If you were not a woman—l” ‘

“I ask no odds on that score," proudly cried
the woman, her eyes flashing. “Man or wo-
man, you could not escape me. Before you
could touch a weapon, I could lay you both
upon the ground, dead. But you are worth
more to us aliyo. Once more; do you sin-ren-
(101'?

“Not unless we have some guarantee—" be-
gan Mark, his easy temper growing ruffled.

“ What your future fate will be does not rest
with mc,ll coldly interrupted the fair road-
agent. “ l have only to deal with the present.
I volunteered to arrest on, thinking that by so
doingI might prevent loodshed. If I fail in
this, blame yourself. I have pledged in word
to take you into camp, and true as t 1e sun
shines down upon us, I will keep my word.
Take your choice—dead or alive?”

lVith a sharp cry, Howard touched his horse
with the spur and dashed toward the woman,
drawinga revolver at the same instant. But
rapid as were his motions, hers were equally
prompt. With an aim as unerring as it was
swift, her revolver spoke, and shot through the
brain, Howard’s horse plunged heavily forward,
casting its rider headlong to the ground. Her
face lighted with a stern resolution, her eyes
glowing vividly, the woman shiftedher aim and
covered Mark Bird before he could draw a wea—

pon.

“ Shall I serve you, the same, or are you son-
sible enough to now when you are. worstch
You ,hesitate! Look then! what chance have
you 3’

As she spoke, she uttered a sharp whistle. As
though by magic, Bird found himself surround—
ed by nearly a dozen forbidding-looking men
who arose from the tall grass and covered him
with their pistols. Hot-blooded and even reck-
less at times, Mark was not foolish enough to
throw away his life where there was not even
the ghost of a chance for him, and replied,
though sullenly: ,

“ It is your turn now. I surrender. Let me
look to my friend, then you can dispose of me as
you wi 1.’

“G1 9 me your weapons, flrst,"uttercd the
woman, ridiu close to his side, then speaking
in a low, rapi tone: “I was forced to act as I
have, as the only means of saving your life. Be
guarded, but never des air. I will save you
both at the cost of my li 'e, if needs be.”

Mark stared at her in astonishment, but the
woman snatched the pistols from his hands with
a frown, turning and extending the weapons
toward a young man who drew near.

“Take them, Martin, as a part reward for
permitting me to usurp your place just now.
And hold Queen for me, please. ’

Leaping lightly to the ground she advanced to
where Howard lay, still senselessafterbis severe
fall. Mark was at her side in an instant, un-
liecding the ugly 'lances with which he was fa-
vored from the k, handsome Martin in par-
ticular.

“Your friend is not hurt.” said the young
woman, after a brief but skillful examination.
“ Give him a drop of this brandy. And mind,”
she muttered in his car as both bent-over the
insensible man. “my life as well as yours de-
pends upon your prudence now.’7

Mark turned his head with a glance of under- ,

standing, but the young woman had turned
aside,- and his eyes mat the black, snaky orbs of

Martin, instead. This encounter lasted but an ting the audacious gang. But for monthsxhh
, , , .

You push ‘

 

instant, but was long enough for Mark to recog-
nize the fact that he had at least one bitter, un-
scrupulous enemy among the outlaws. There
was death plainly written in Martin‘s eyes.

A few moments later Howard recovered his
senses sulllciently to comprehend the disagree—
able situation into which himself and cousin had

l f ullcn. Surrounded by nearly a Score of men
whose evil and sin scarred countennncca but too

emeniber you are in Texas, , plainly bespoke the l'oulncss of thcir bcnrls, it is
But a truce to y not to be wondcred at that his heart was heavy

and full of painful forcbodings.

Nor was Mark fooling in much better case.
. True, he was ussurcd that a friend was nigh,
} but even if full confidence could be placed in
‘[ her Words, after the part she had so recently
I played, she was but a feeble woman, after all.

As soon as Howard was able to ualk, the
party, with the two captivcs in their midst. cn-
; tcrod the little timbered island, pausing beside a
small, cool spring.

“ Get the ro cs, Marklc,“ uttered Martin, nod-
ding toward t in spot where a number of horses
were tied. “Two of you fellows g0 strip the
horse. Bring the rigging in here."

“ Stop, Martin," exclaimed the young woman —
as the outlaw, thongs in hand, was about to bin ,
the prisoners. “1 took them captive. If they
will give their parole of honor not to make any
attempt to escape—7’

“ I will prmnise nothing," doggedly interrupt-
ed Kirko. “ I have been treated like a dog and
I swear to have a deep and bitter revenge.’l

“ Pledge or no pledge, I am not going to run

 

any risk,” growled Martin. “I gave on our
way in the other matter, Belle, but wil not
risk the captain’s displeasure, even for our

honeyed smiles. If you are wise, you wil be
studying u some excuse for interfering in what
he intcndei to keep secret.”

The cousins were bound, hand and foot, then
afterallowing their horses to feed for an hour
longer, the outlaws made pre arations to take
the road. While. they wore t ins occupied, the
eyes of Mark Bird were not idle. Not only did
he re ister the faces of each and all of the out—
laws in his memory, but he found time to closely
scrutinize the young woman who had played so
prominent a 1part in their capture.

She stood caning against a tree, not far dis-
tant, and formed a picture that few eyes could
have dwelt u )on without interest. But little if
an above tie medium hight of her sex, she
loo od every inch a princess of the prairie in
her half-savage garb. Her dark and curling
hair fell to her shoulders in glossy masses. Her
eyes were large and filled with a liquid fire that
matched well hcr rich, clear complexion and
clear—cut features.

A striking type of the purest brunette: all in
said in that word. Although she 'et lacked
several years of bcing out of her teens, her
form, nourished by a wild, free and out-door
life, was superbly developed. Her dress was
composed in part of n plumed turban, a close-
fltting jacket of scarlet cloth, a short tunic and

.full trowsers, gathered just below the knee;
silken stockings and headed moccasins. Across
her shoulders was suspended a short rifle. A
knife and revolvers were at her girdle. ‘

With both prisonch securely bomid upon the
same horse, the outlaws, first assuring them-
selves that the coast was clcar, rode forth from
the timber island. But ore they had covered a.
hundred yards, the leaders halted with a. cry of
wondering alarm.

A horseman confronted them as suddenly as

earth. Both horse and rider were black as mid-
night from head to heel. Both were of more
than common size.
hoarse, taunting laugh came to the ears of
the outlaws. The strange rider flung forward a.
long, heavy rifle, flring without any apparent
attempt to catch an aim. Yet at the reports man
fell dead, pierced through the brain.
“ DOUBLE SIGHT, Tna Damn SHOT!” scream-
ed Martin, wildly.

CHAPTER IX.
A PAIR. or LAMBS.

As Mrs. Nancy Lamb ordered her husband
into the saddle, her black-snake whi out the air
with a significant whistle that Hector only too
well knew how to interpret, and catching up a
loose bundle in a coarse sack, he obeyed. Nan~
cy glared at him sternlv as she recognized his
flddle. but said nothing. She was shrewd enough
to know that there might be danger to her au-
thority in pushing it too far.

“Now lzcll me ‘ust what you beam about
Dashin’ Ned an’ the Broad Prairie," she com-
manded, when the narrow bottom-like valley
was left far behind them and their trail led over
the level plain.

Hector obeycd, but he was in such a state of
discomposure that it will save time to condense
his report.

For several years the counties of Guadalupe.
Come] and Hays had been the humping-ground

of a strong and well-organized band of horse-
I thieves and bigliwaynien. Be bold and trouble-

 

some bad they become that Edward Conway
Rnngeis for! the express purpose of extermina-

I

though he had risen from the bowels of the ‘

, hen sheriff of Coma], organized aconipimy of Q

8 ’Beadle’s Dime Library:

 

labors were in vain, althou he had several
trusty and skillful scouts an spies out day and
night. However carefully his plans might be
laid, the enemy was sure to get wind of his

 

 

' “ I’m most ashamed to say it, but he is my
old man. You, Hectorl come out 0’ that bresh! ’

There was a spasmodic movement of Hector’s
legs as though he was trying to squeeze still fur-

l
v

.. movements in am 1e time to foil or evade them. i ther into tln- brush, but no other sign was given

Dashin Ned, as t e youn
- for an wide, suspected t at there was seine
treachery at work but was unable to detect the
traitor. As alrea recorded, he had gained in—
formation that one led him to foil the intended

attack upon the bank at San Antonio, but his l

informant could not or would not point out to
him any of the conspirators. Immediately af-

sheriff was known 1 to show that he heard the summons.

 

~ tor the event, Dashing Ned received word that ‘

the outlaws had a rendezvous in one of the

, dense clumps of Chaparral that dotted over
Broad Prairie, and at once took his men in that

, ‘ direction. 'Though moving with all possible sc-
. crecy, the news ot wind, and was a common
to ic in Austin, ence Hector Lamb’s knowl-

“ We must find him,” said Nancy, resolutely.
“ He’s so sweet on Minnie that he’ dro ) every»

° thin’ else, an’ never give over until hes found
.her an’ paid off the lnjun dog that stole her
awe. .”

“’ ‘won’t never be. He’s a devil. The cain’t
nobody nor nothin' hurt him," muttered Iector,
with a. nervous start as a jack—rabbit leaped
from aclump of grass beneath the fect of his
mule. “Le’s turn back, Nancy! Mebbe he

. won’t hurt the gal—”

“ You say one word more 0’ that, an’ I’ll lar-
1119 you till you cain’t stan’l” cried the wo-

‘ . man, fiercely. “You call him adevil, an’ {it
you’re ready to sneak away an7 let him work ’3
dirty will on the pore child we’ve raised from a
bah like she was our own flesh an’ blood. Hec-
tor Tomb, I always knowed on was a fool but
I didn’t think you was see a pore, shiftless
coward aforel”

. “It’s only him,” muttered the settler. “I
ain’tacoward to any one else. But when he
looks at me I kin feel the rope ’round my neck,

’ ‘ chokin’—~chokin’—”

"The more fool you 1” snapped Nancy. “You
know ’twas a lie. l‘hey couldn’t ’a’ hurt us much
for what we did that ni ht. An’ we was starv-
in’. I wish we’d ’a’ de ed him then an’ dared
U . his wu'st. But like fools we let him 5 eer us in-
' todoin’ what he wanted. But now: s’pose he
was tosw’ar it onto us? Who’d you s’pose

. ' would b‘lieve him a’ter so long a time? They’d

' be more likely tobang him for keepin’ still so
many years. N 0, old man; the time 3 come fer

, “us to stick up fer our own rights, an’ when I see

' - Dashin’ Ned, I’m goin’ to tell him the hull story.

. E! be is in love with Minnie, he’ll see that s

. . au’ us two hes justice.”

' Without pausing for rest the two Lambs rode

on throu h the night, for the most rtdn si-

'- lence. I is stran e, but true, that rs. Nanc '

never doubted t eir finding Dashing Ne ,

thou h Broad Prairie, with its numerous tim-
‘ her lands and dense atches of Chaparral
' could easily afl'ord cover or a dozen regiments.
- ‘With an hour’s halt to rest the mules and al—
;: , low them an opportunity to graze, the adven—
. . turers pressed on without any incident of mo-
. ment breaking the monotony of their ride, un-
el. iii an hour past noon. Then, just as they were
,l sounding a long point of stunted trees and
axiom-bushes, they met a horseman, face to

e.

Hector took one hasty glance, then rolled
,»; - rather than dismounted from his mule, and with
l.‘ I. ludicrous bellow of ab'ect terror, plunged into
in; tho matted undergrowt with an impetuosity
' that left only his legs and hind—quarters in sigh .
‘And there he lay, unable to crawl further in,
 but so frightened that he probably was un-
’ aware how much he was exposed. ’

. Very different was the conduct of his wife,

1 , thou” she, too, was startled and even alarmed.

all: ‘Quickly raising the old rusty rifle that had bal-

‘il' aubed across her lap, she Vigorously pulled the

'v’ trigger Had she not for otten to cock her

3 weapon, there would have en an empty sad-
" die before her, beyond a doubt. ,As it was, this
little oversight gave her time to realize the mis-
take both she and her husband had fallen into,
to see that the strange rider was not their bit-
ter enemy, though bearing a strong resem—
blance to ml, at east, outwardly.

“What on earth do you mean, woman?” he

‘ cried, more in astonishment than alarm. “ Are

you crazy that Epu try to murder me?”
“ Thank the rd the pesky thing wouldn’t go
gill-pod Nancy, drop ing the rifle and cov-

er face with her ands, for there was a
womanly heart beneath that rough ex—

 
  
 
   
  
  
   
       
    
   
     
       
  
  
     
      
  
     
       
  
  
   
   

 

  

    
   
 

  

 
  

  

  
  
  

, “lg'hat does it all mean, anyhow?” he per-

' / ' “ We tuck you fer another man,” and Nancy
' ed her wonted assurance with a powerful
ort. “ You look more like him than he does
' hisselfl Mebbe ou’re his brother?”
“I have no rother,” smiled the stran er.
. I ask who it is that I resemble so won er-
3 » ‘fiT‘oiks call him Kernel Overton, but he’s a
Minn half-breed. He stole away our da’ter, au’
[was huntin’ him. That’s why I tried to

'oustran .”
Add tnfohrhmbudlmmr’

 
 

      
   

  
   
  

 

     
  
 

 
   
 

 
    

 

 

 

“Hold my critter a minnit, stranger,” mut— .
tered Nancy, an ominous light in her eyes.

Slipping to the ground, she flung the rope
reins to the amused stranger, and black-snake in
hand stole on tip-toe to where Hector was in
hiding. Drawing the lash through her fingers,
and measuring her distance, Nancy threw all
her skill and power into the effort. The whip
cracked like a pistol, and a howl of agony that
arose from the brush told how true was her aim.
A dozen blows followed in swift succession, each
one bringing a pull‘ of (lush from the broad buck—
skin patch which ornamented the seat of Hec-
tor’s trowscrs, until, unable longer to bear the
pain, he backed out of the brush, scratched and
blocding, a doleful—looking object.

“ Mebbe‘ you‘ll know better then to mistake a
gentleman for a ornery half—an’-half, next
time,” panted Nancy, forgetting her own near-
ly fatal mistake.

When satisfied that the horseman was not the 
dreaded Overton, Hector slunk sheepishly aside,
leaving Nancy to conduct the affair to her own
liking. This she did to admiration, for by close

uestioning she not only learned that Dashing '

ed was in Broad Prairie, but received clear di-
rections as to the precise point where he would '
in all probability pass the night. This anxiety
satisfied, her natural curiosity began to awake,
and her questions took amore personal turn.
The stranger, however, seemed inclined to be 1
reticent as to his own affairs, and with a brief ‘
nod, he gave his animal free rein and rode rap-
idl away.

t may be as well to draw avail over the next
hour or two. There are few of us who like to
read of the tortures of the damned.

The day wore on, and the pair of ill-mated
Lambs pursued their course as directed by the
stranger. It was just sunset when they came '
in view of the timber island—conspicuous for
many miles around, from two dead trees which
towered high above the surrounding verdure—
wherethey had been directed to look for Dashin
Ned and his men. The jaded mules were urge
on, but it was inky dark before the edge of the
timber could be reached. Dismounting and
hitching their animals, the Lambs entered the
wood, using all caution, for enemies were far
more likely to be encountered in Broad Prairie
than friends. Through the dense foliage they
presently caught the glimmering light of a
camp-fire, and carefully stole forward. A few
minutes later the found themselves upon the
edge of the glade in which stood the dead trees.
A weird, impressive scene met their eyes.

From one of the dead limbs hung a ropre. Be-
neath the rope was a horse and rider. he lat-
ter’s hands were bound behind his back, and the
rope was noosed around his throat. A number
of men were rrouped around, with drawn pis-
tols and bare knives.

Was it murder, or was it retribution?

At that instant, one of the mules, probably
scenting the horses in the glade, up ‘fted its
voice in a mighty bray. The alarm was given.
With loud cries and curses the men dashed for-
ward. The Lambs shrunk back, as a blinding
flash fllled their eyes and a rifle exploded almost
in their faces!

 

CHAPTER X.
BORDER LAW.

WITHIN a certain portion of Broad Prairie a
curious drama is being enacted. Near the cen-
ter of a circle the diameter of which is nearly
two-score miles, is a single horseman. e
ground is level and even as the top of a billiard—
table. Nota bush nor a tree breaks the dull
monotony of the tall, sun-burned grass that la-
in}: undulates before the gentle morning breeze.

ar elf—appearing at the very horizon, is a
faint, low lme of something dark. In which-
ever direction the rider’s eyes may turn, this
artificial horizon meets the sk -line. The round
prairie is inclosed upon evorii side by a. dense,
almost impenetrable girdle o cha arm].

The horseman seems unea . e rises in his
stirrups and gazes long and s dily behind him.
His brow lowers and a dee , bitter curse hisses
throu h his tightly-clone ed teeth. But the
wild ook deepens in his eyes, and a grayish
shade creeps over his bronzed face.

Nearly a mile distant a tall man sits upon a
dark horse, motionless as a statue. Only one
man, yet the horseman in the center of the prai-
rie regards him with steadily'increasing dread
—almost horror. Since early dawn that black
shadow has hung upon his truck, following and
even imitatin his every motion; advancing,
retreating, an halting. What can it mean?

“ I’ll find out—man or devil, I won’t stan’ this
no longer!” mutters the horsemen, and he care—
fully excmines his pistols to make sure that they
will not fail him in case of need. .

With stern resolve be rides toward the mys-
{figous being who has so rsistently shadowed

, man shape before him.

 

. As though moved y the same im ulse,
throbjectofhiswondefingdreadwheeg his

  

animal and rides away. The lpursuer urges his
home onward at to ) speed. he fugitive darts
ahead, just maintaining his distance, no more,

jno less. The pursucr draws rein, abruptly

checking his horsc. The fugitive does the
same, at the same instant: yet his face is turned
to the front and away from tho other ridvr.
The first horseman wheels abruptly and re-
sumes his original course. He glances over his
shoulder, and the ggay shade ows more
ghastly. The black orse and ri or are once
more dogging him!

At this, abject terror seems to overpower the
man‘s iron nerves. He urges his steed on with
voice and spur. endeavoring to run away l'rom
the haunting shadow. But in vain. As though
connected by some subtle yet irresistible bond
the relative distance bctwocn himself and the
blaCk rider is steadily maintained.

The haunted man has one hope remaining.
He will seek refuge among the trees. Once un—
der cover of the chaparral, he will force the
matter to a conclusion.

Strai ht on he rides until the timber ahead
grows e ear and distinct. He glances back. The
shadow is still upon his truck, no nearer, no f ur-
ther than before. l

“Good! no horse that was ever foaled kin
ketah me now, afore I kin make the timber,” bc
mutters; but ends with a low, gasping cry as he
draws rein with such force. that the haunches of

, his horse touch the ground.

A second horseman, the counterpart of the
first, new confronts him. His danger is doubled.
The actions of the two riders are identical. They

5. are acting in concert.

The hunted man is losing his head. He turns
to the left and urges his panting animal for-
ward. A swift, double glance tells him the
sickening truth. The two strange riders are
dashing along in a line with him. And more.
He can see that they are slowly, surely edging
toward him!

He lashes his' horse. A mad superstition is
turning his brain. The manifold crimes of his
checkered life are risin before him. He sees a
ghastly, menacing spiri ,enwrappcd in u. bloody
shrou , threatenin r him with its fleshless hand.
And behind it anot er—and another!

The phantoms fade awa ; et there is a hu-
e is confronted by a
third horseman.

He wrenches in his steed. The over-ridden.
animal staggers and falls. The haunted may:
staggers to is feet. He draws a istol; but
blo y film obscures his vision. 6 blushes ..
hand across his e es~then, reeling, he falls.

And the three orsemen, gallop up to his side. 

 

“ You stand before us, James Brown, charged
with murder, with being a traitor and a spy.
You shall have a fair trial. If you can relate
these charges, on shall 0 free and unharmed.
If not—by the eavensa ve us! you shall die
the death of a dog I"

Dashing Ned confronted the prisoner with a
stern frown. The crackling fire cast a lurid
glare over the impressive scene. Two-score men
were grouped around the two blasted trees that
stood in the center of the little lade.

“ The charge is a lie,” respon ed the prisoner
in a husky voice, as he moxstened his dry and
cracked lips with his tongue. “These lelleis
hate me. They’d sw’ar to an thing so they
could put me out o’ the way. on haln’t got no
right to try me. Ef 'ou think I‘ve done any-
thin’ as deserves it ta 9 me to town an‘ give me
a chance fer my life. Don’t murder me!”

“You entered our league with a perfrct un~
derstanding of our rules and re ulations. You
solemly swore to abide by our aws. You are
charged with treachery. You are said to have
Fined us in order to betray our plans to Etailality

ph and his band of cha arral wolves. c all
know that some one as been pla ing the
traitor. You were suspected, watc ed, and
caught in the act. You were seen to meet seven
men last night. A portion of your words were
overheard; enough to convict you. In return
you received orders to report at the ‘ 14 per sla~
fion,’ Your every step was dogged a ter that.
To make sure, those watching you bided their
time. You rode away from our camp, no doubt
to carry out your orders. You were folio“ ed,
and by playing upon your so rstitious fears
you were driven into atrap. on were ca )tu'red
and brought here for trial. You shal have
every chanceto defend yourself. Six of these
men will actas a jury. You can select them
yourself, or we will draw lots. Take your
choice.”

“You an’ them both have made up your
minds to murder me,” was the sullen regily.
“ You’re forty to one. . It’d be a fool job to g t
ag’inst sech odds. You kin work your own way.
I won’t help twist the rope for m own neck. ”

Without re lying, Dashing ed tore a leaf
from his note- ok, and cutting it intone neny
strips as there were men in his command, num-
bered the bits from one up. These he placed in:
his but and shook them well together. Then
standing in front of the prisoner, that he might
see everythin was conducted fairly, he. said:

time. Those who draw thedx
will serve as the jury

\

 

“Form in ine,mon, and advance one are, 7

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    
   
   
   
  
  
    
 
   

 

 

 

 

 

 

I

 

'lif'tc

fully to the evidence, and decide whether the
accused is guilty or innocent.”

The drawing was carried out, and the six men
took the position pointed out by their chief.
The first witness was called, and gave in his
evidence. When he was through, Dashing Ned
said:

“ Ask him what questions you like, prisoner.
lie is bound to answer them all, and swear to
his truth in replying.”

int Bro“ 11 remained silent. He had evidently
made up his mind to bear the worst, and would
not protract the torture by vain strug les. He
had played a bold game—played it We] ; he had
lost. and he knew that he must pay the forfeit
of his failure.

The array of proof was indeed fearftu strong
and convincing. From the first the risoner
had played a double role. Throu h is cun—
nin and cool courage Equality Eph ad gained
the nowledge that enabled him to so long and
successfully elude the search and foil the care-
full laid plans of the Rangers.

This alone would have been sufficient todoom
the risoner to death under the strin nt rules
whic governed the Rangers, but t ere was
more to come.

One of the men who had been set to watch
Brown had suddenly disappeared. After a long
search he was found wounded to death. He
lived long enough to char e Brown with his
murder. Discovering himse followed, Brown
had ambuscaded the scout, shot and then stabbed
him, leaving him for dead. Then he hastened
to keep his appointment with the outlawe, where
he vans followed, overheard and finally cap-
ture .

“ You have heard the evidence, gentlemen of
the jury,” cried Dashing Ned, coldly, after
Brown had stubbornly refused to cross-examine
the last witness. “It remains with you to (le—
cidc whether the prisoner be innocent or guilty.”

Without a moment’s hesitation the SIX men
arose and in one breath announced their ver—
dict. Guilty.

“ James Brown,” said Dashing Ned, solemnly,
“ you have heard the verdict. Have you an -
thing to say why the sentence of death shou d
not be pronounced upon you?" v

“What use? you're bound to murder me
anyhow. Go on with your rat-killin’!” snarled
the doomed man.

“You are sentenced to be hung, then. Fix
the rope, boys. ”

A couple of lessees were knotted together and
one end flung over a stout branch. A noose
was made in the other end, while a horse was
hrou rht beneath the rope. The prisoner was
into the saddle, his arms still bound. The
noose was placed around his neck. The rope
was drawn taut and the loose end securely tied
around the trunk of the tree. This done, at a
motion from Dashing Ned, the men drew aside.

“James Brown, you are granted two minutes
in which to say your prayers. At the end of
that time you die."

. Watch in hand Dashing Ned audiny counted
the seconds. Only this sound broke the other-
wise impressive silence, until—the voice of a
inqu was heard, braying lustilg;

And a deathvshot was disc rged from the
darkness.

CHAPTER XI.
WOLVES or THE CHAPARRAL.

As their comrade fell before that unerring
rifle: as Martin uttered that fear-inspiring
name; as they beheld the man or demon con-
cerning whom so many wild and thrilling tales
were told, the outlaws shrunk back as from the
plague, and some among their number seemed
about to seek safety in headlong flight.

With a cry of mortified re a the young wo-
man, Missouri Belle, spurred her pony forward,
her 9 es flashing flre.

“' enty men cowed by a. single man—and
he with the life-blood of your comrade stainin
his hand! Gol hide your heads, ou pitif
cowards! I will avenge r Co 9 myself 1”

Straight toward the lack rider the excited
girl rode, and as the spotted pony carried her
within pistol range, she drew a revolver and
fired shot after shot in swift succession.

Mark Bird, bound and disarmed though he
was. or forward the horse which he bestrode
behind ' cousin, not thinking of the danger he
was courting, only seeing the fair young '
rushing to such an unequal encounter, dose
2y those whose duty it was to guard and defend

er. ,

_The black rider remained motionless, his eyes
riveted u n the form of Missouri Belle as she
charged own upon him,a lorious vision. Mo-
tionless until the leaden bul ets began whistlin
Viciously around him, and it seemed as thou
the fair road-agent was fated to avenge t 9
death of her follower- But then, without a
word or gesture, the Death Shot wheeled his
horse and sped away over the level plain.

This seemed to restore in a d as the usual
courage of the outlaws, and with rtin at their
head. they put their animals to speed and thun-
dered along the triple trail. I

89110 urged her pony on with voice and ur,
but all her efforts were in vein. The ack
honefwgedahoud until its rider was beyond

' l

 

a Equality Eph. v

pistol range, then steadily maintained its ad-
van without seemin effort, though the
spotte mustang was straining every nerve to
its utmost tension.

For over a mile the chase swept on. Martin
and his comrades had overtaken the doubly-
burdened horse ridden by the cousins. Missouri
Belle, at length satisfied that it was beyond the
powers of her pony to overtake the black rider,
relaxed her exertions and rejoined the outlaws.

“ Is there no horse here that can come 11 with
that (lemon! 1 will ive one hundred do] ars to
the man that takes lnm, (lead or alive!”

“ As well chase the wind!” muttered Martin,
sullenly. “That is no mortal man and horse.
A bullet flattens against his breast and a knife
shivers like a bit of glass. He is a demon—he
and his horse! He is just pla ing with us. Or
trying to lead us into some rap or pitfall. I
w face flesh and blood long as any man, but
I’ll not fight against spirits.”

“ And on are the one my father has chosen
to succee him—a coward, doubl dyedl”flashed
Missouri Belle. “ Not a word! t e si ht of your
craven face is enough, without the i la buzzing
of your tongue. Forward, men! Remember
poor Conrado!”

A wild cheer greeted this fiery speech, and
the chase swept on through the high grass with
redoubled vigor and determination. Not the
least interested were the cousins. Eagerly they
watched the fugitive. Thou rh the outlaws
were 111‘ ing their horses on With bloody spur,
the blue steed was holding his own, and was
simpli pacing.

“ \ but did I say?" suddenly cried Martin.
“ Is that a mortal horse '4"

The Death Shot turned in his saddle and
waved one hand in mocking defiance. The
black horse shot forward like an arrow fresh
from the bow, running low, smooth and with
marvelous swiftness, caving the outlaws so
rapidly that by contrast their animals appeared
to ecreeping. '

On like a swallow the black horse sped; and
then vanished as though the earth had suddenly
opened and swallowed him up!

Uneasy glances passed between the outlaws.
Superstitions as most evil beings are, bronzed
faces grew pale and voices trembled. Even
Missouri Belle did not entirely escape, but her
voice was steady and determined:

“There is some trick in this. I am going to
solve the mystery. Those who are afraid can
await my return. ”

“Look yonder!” and a gra —bearded outlaw
pointed straight ahead far iyond the int
where the Death Shot had so suddenly ( isa -
poured. “Horsemen, and coming this way. It
1mg be the run ersl”

issouri Belc drew rein and producing a
small but powerful field—glass from her poc et,
carefully scanned the distant group

“ They are Indians,” she said, nally, restor-
ing the glass. “1 cannot make out their num-
ber, but it is not greater than our own."

“You called meacraven, Miss Arkwri ht,”
cried Martin. “ I will show you how well de~
serve the name. They, at least, are flesh and
blood. I followed before now I will leadl”

Side by side he and Missouri Belle raced,
closely followed by the others who, now that
they were about to deal with an enemy whom
they could understand, seemed to forget their
fears and superstitious.

“A nice flx we’re in to be fighting Indians!”
said Mark to Kirke, in a tone of utter disgust.
“Can’t you manage to pull the cursed brute

up?”

“ No. We can roll off if things et too badly
mixed up. Better a broken neck t inn be spit-
ted on one of those lancos.”

The Indians were up arently nothing loth,
and the two arties swi tl neared each other
until, when ess than hat a mile separated
them, the old robber cried out:

“ The ’re Lipans—I can see old Grizzly Paw l"

The ndians appeared to make a somewhat
similar discovery at nearly the same instant,
for coming to a halt, one of their number rais-
ed his buflalo—robe hi h in the air, as a signal of
peace» Missouri Bel e and Martin also drew
rein, but from a very different cause. At their
feet lay a narrow but deep crevasse or barren-

2‘ Look! ’ and the girl’s voice rung with scorn
as she inted to the bottom of the ravine,
where t e sundry1 soil was deeply scored with

hoof-prints. “ are is your mystery—there is
where {gui- hantoni horse leaped down! A
very su tant trail for a spirit to leave be-

hind l”

Raising her voice she hailed the Lipan chief
and as he approached, she gave a brief detail of
what had occurred. '

“Let half a dozen of our braves oinn‘as
many of my men and fo ow the tra' . 6
rest will ride along the edge. Esme the as-
sassin alive, if possible; but d or alive he
'must not escape. ’

This plan was quickly carried out. The trail
was fol owed down the barranca. which deep-
ened and grew wider as the men advanced.
The nature of the bottom altered as well, w-
ing hard and flinty covered with grav and
stones,among which the trail wassoonlolt.

 

. an- .. s.

9

Nor could the closest search discover an fur-
ther trace of the mysterious rider or his 10m.
Grizle Paw himself descended and sought lon
land cosely, only to confess himself baffled a
engt 1.

Martin smiled grimly as Missouri Belle gave
the word to retrace their steps, but he said
nothing; and he was wise. The fair road-agent
was not in the most propitious humor.

Passing around the head of the baimnca, the
united forces rode on their wa . Martin and
Grizzly Paw, riding a little apar , were convers-
ing eagerly, and when they came abreast of a
small timber motlc, the young outlaw accompa-
nied the Li ans to their encampment.

alf an iour later he overtook the party, and
ri ing beside Missouri Belle, he made some com—
munication that appeared to excite her nota
little. Mark Bird, ever on the alert, caught

0

something about a captive—~“a rl—a compan- .

ion for ou—along soon."
but co (1 hear nothing further than these (1
jointed words.

The sun had disappeared nearly an hour when

He 1 stened eagerl , ‘

the party left the prairie and entereda dense ,

Chaparral, following a narrow, winding trail, in
single file, for what seemed to the weary cap-
tives an interminable distance. Finally they

emerged into a spacious clearin or glade, thick- .

ly dotted with little tches of rees and shrub-
bery. Near the cen r of this opening several
small flres gleamed brightly, and 1) their ra s
the prisoners could ma 6 cute num r of sin 1,
rude brush huts.

Marlin

asped the bridle of the horse they i

rode, and ed him through the cluster of huts, '

pausing before a building considerably larger
and neuter than the rest. Leaving them fora
moment he entered the door, then returned and
cutting the thongs at their ankles, bade them
dismount and follow him. With some difilcul

they obeyed, and entering the building, foun

themselves in a square, fairly illuminated room.

A tall, stout-built man lay upon a ile of robes
and blankets. At a nod from him, artln held
the rude oil-lamp down to the faces of first one
and then the other of the cousins.

“That will do,” growled the invalid, with I.
curse. “You have made no mistake. But to
make sure—your names?”

Realizing the utter folly of obstinacy, the
cousins replied.

“Good enough! You came to Texas in an—
swer to a letter from one David \Voodsonl”

“ You will excuse our answering that quee-
tion until we are better convinced of your right
to ask it,” coldly replied Kirke.

“The right of m ght, young man. You are
in in lower—I can do with on us I will. One
won from my lips will com emn you to death
or give you life. If you are wise you will re-
member this. But I don't mind answeri you.
I am David VVoodson. There! I am no well
enough to say more. Martin, put them in the
cage, and leave their hands bound. Set a clone
guard over them. Go, nowl”

CHAPTER XII.
WHAT DOES rr MEAN?
Tun instructions of the outlaw chief were
promptly and thormfilhly carried out by Mar-
tin and iis fellows. ’ 6 two prisoners Were led

 

through the little collection of huts and thruu ~

into an oblong structure of logs. The door was
closed and barred upon them, and as they
stood in the utter darkness, the cousins could.
distinctly hear Martin giving the man placed
upon uard his orders.

“ Al ow no one to up reach the jug without'

the pass-word, and if el her of the prisoners at-
tem ts to esca ,shoot him down—and don’t
was 6 our bul et, either!" .

“ Prime comfort, that!" uttered Mark with a
faint laugh. “Seems to me we’re seeing the
elephant in sober earnest, Kirke. [don’t want
you to think I am weakenin , but I’d ve all
my old boots for just one g impse of 0 old
home and folks about this time. But honestly,
I believo we've been on a wild-goose chose from
thai‘ilmtt'nl th " H d H d utly

oatoge or re a owar,earn .

“He ma be dead, bu he, did not dieon that
ni lit. member-what we found in the grave.
l 0 know that his teeth were double all aroun '
in front as well as on the side; the skull we to
was not thus furnished."

“Well, I hope you’re ht. But about this
fellow; do you believe he
son who wrote that letter?”

the David Wood. '
“He may have written the letters, but I III.

pretty well convinced that the real David Wood- '

son is dead and buried. Five different man.

told me the same story about his accident and
the manner in which his skull was mended;
I proved the truth of their statement. As for
this man—this ca tain of outlaws—l do not
know what to th He puzzles me.”

"I:

“Don’t try to think then. Take it easy
me. The solution will come soon enough
only wish I could be as sure about my mum .

Where have I met that little spltflm on o . ~
painted mus

l Somewhere, some time, I am
almost sure. t face and figure are a com-
bination one could not easily forget. And yet,
I can’t place her, to save incl"

“Do you know whatlhave been “in” ,

 

 

‘ flan violent!
' realign-etc

710

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

 

slowly responded Howard. “ I believe this girl
is the woman you met that evening at the Gold-
en Harvest. watched her closely, that night,
and I do not believe I can be mistaken.”

Mark was completely taken by surprise, but
gradually the truth seemed to dawn upon his
mind, and ere long he felt morally certain that
the pink domino and the girl road-agent were
imle one and the same person.

For nearly an hour longer the cousins crouch-
ed down together in one corner of the 5 acre
room, discussing their peculiar situation. rom
their first setting foot upon Texan soil, an at-
mosphere of peculiar mystery had seemed to
envulop them. Their search had been one con-
stant succession of surprises, and though they
hal learned much that was new and startlin
to them, they seemed no nearer the desired on
than at first, before the letter of David Woodson
fell among them like a bomb-shell and scatter—
ed its marvelous tidings through the family
ranks.

“Hist!” softly muttered Mark, nudging his
cousin.

Somewhere from out the darkness came the
low, subdued sound of sobbing. With hi hten-
ed curiosity the cousins listened, and fin lo-
cating the sound, or rather the direction rom
whence it roceeded, they noiselessly stole

' along the si e of the room and paused at the

southern end.

The sobbing grew fainter, then died away.
A few moments later a low troubled voice was
heard r "ed in rayer. The cousins listened
with bate breat . They know now that they
were listening to a woman or girl. She was
pra ing for help from on High to strengthen her
in t no trial to come, for protection against some
dreaded persecutor. There were no names men-
tioned, no clew given by which the cousins could
guess her story or condition, other than that she
was 3. ca )tive like themselves.

“ But ’11) going to find out,” muttered Mark,
as the gentle voice died away. “These 13 5
don’t touch; I can pull out some of the c ' -
ing, I guess.”

Howard made no reply. Of a far. less mer-
curial dis osition than Mark, he had a heart
only for t 6 one sacred duty to which he had so
solemnly dedicated his life. At least, so he be-
lieved, then. The day was not far distant when
his eyes were to  opened.

Pressing his back close to the wall, Mark
found that he could work his fingers quite
adroitly, and with dogged persistence he du
at the hard clay “daubin "until he succeedeg
in loosening several smal bits. Pausing for
rest, he turned around, and was greatl sur—
prised to see that his work was done! A s ender
ray of ll ,‘ht was streaming through the a r-
ture, unvl stooping, Mark peered through. he
next inst-mt he started back with a low excla—
mation of wonder. At this, Kirke Howard
came forward. Though no sound esca d his
lips his surprise was no less great than ark’s.

I-fe was peering into a room the counterpart

, of the one he occu ied, save that a rude lamp of

oil was suspended rom the ceiling. At the fur-
ther end of the room a. (young woman was
kneeling, her hands (:las , her face white as
death, a wild, affrighta look in her dilated
eyes. She seemed to be looking him full in the
eyes and Howard drew back with an instinct-
ive delicacy thou d1 reason told him that he was
invisible to her. at in that brief glance he re-
cognized the young woman to whom he had been
introduced on the day of the feast at San An-
tonio—Minnie Lamb!

Before he could take a second look, Mark

crowded him aside and lacing his lips to the
aperture, uttered the gir ’s name.
, There was no reply. Minnie had heard the
cautious scratching. gnawing sound at the wall,
and locating the sound, she had caught a glimpse
of a human hand as the mud chin 'ing was re-
moved. She knew that she was in the power of
lawless, crime-hardened men; what more natu-
ral than that she should suhpect some evil deed
was impending? A sickening terror held her
speechless.

Mark took another look, and readily divined
the cause of her silence. He spoke again, loud-
or and clearer:

“ We are friends, Miss Minnie. You remem-
ber we took lunch with on at San Antonio;
Kirlie Howard and Mark ird. I just wanted

to know if there was anything we could do——”

, “Take me away from here—for the love of
God! ge vtlomen. take me back home!” sobbed
the girl, raising her clasped hands.

“If we oixl could! But we are prisoners,

tied up like ( ogs!” groaued Mark. “You do
the taking, Kirke; I can’t stand that!”
. “Mark says true, Miss Lamb. Weare ris-
oners and uttcrl unable to aid you, dear yes
we would like. ut surely you are in no such
danger. Lawless as these men are, they could
not wantonly injure you. ”

“You little know the monster who sent me
here, or the man who keeps me captive,” re-
sponded Minnie, choking down her emotion.
with an effort. “ I am threatened with worse
than death unless I can escape—”

At this moment the doors of both rooms were
open, and before the cousins
i.r feet, they were seized, drag-

 

ggd across the room and there flung u on their
cks. A rude g was thrust into t e mouth
of each; then a s ut, raw-hide rope was placed
across their throats. both ends being secured to
stout stakes in the earthen floor. Another rope
held their lower limbs in like durance.

All this was done without a word being spoken
by the outlaws, and, after holding his lantern
c ose to the fastenings and testing them, Martin
motioned his men away and followed them
from the room, closing and securing the door as
before.

The cousins had plenty of time in which to
curse their imprudence, for there was little
room for doubting the cause of this harsh treat-
ment. The sentries must have overheard them
communicating with the girl ca tive, and, re-
porting the fact, the outlaws ‘too this method
of reventing a repetition of the offense.

y twisting his head as far the rope would
permit, Mark could tell that the light had van-
ished from the adjoining room or else the chink
had been thoroughly stopped up once more.
There was no sound from that direction. Noth—
ing could be heard but the faint, shuffling tread
of the guard as he slowly paced to and fro be-
fore the door.

Despite their confined and painful position
and natural anxiety as to what the morrow
might bring forth, fatigue caused the prisoners
to rep asleep, finally.

How Jonglhe slept Mark Bird never knew: but
all at once e found himself awake, with every
nerve upon the alert, and a profuse perspiration
springing from every pore.

The rope acress iis throat Seemed to have
grown shorter, for he could not move his head
an inch. The darkness was as intense as ever,
but his ears did double service instead.

He heard the heavy puncheon door slowly
and cautiously swing open, and he knew that
some person was standing upon the threshold,
peering toward the spot where he lay. It seem-
ed as though the form and features were dis-
tinctly visible before his straining eyeballs. The
figure of Martin, the outlaw; that dark, hand—
some face, looking even more than customarily
like the prince of evil, as he clutched along,
gleaming knife to his breast.

He felt, rather than heard, the midnight in-
terlo r draw nearer foot by foot. More, he
con] now distinguish two footfalls. They drew
closer, finally pausing close beside the slumber-
ing Howar . A brief pause. Then a faint,
scuffling sound. A sharp knee struck against
his ribs. He knew that a man was kneeling
u on Howard’s breast! He strove to cry aloud.

e exerted his utmost strength in a vain effort
to burst his bonds and free himself to aid his
loved cousin. He strained until it seemed as
though his brain would burst. But all in vain.
Martin had done his work too thoroughly. And
Mark, weak as an infant from his deadly strug-
gle his brain reeling, lay half senseless.

The nocturnal visitor passed over the body of.
Howard and settled down 11 n that of his cou-
sin. One hand clutchcd ark’s throat with a
suffocating pressure. The other hand fumbled
at his breast, tearing open his clothes. And
then—Mark knew no more for hours. When he
awoke to consciousness, daylight was sifting in
through the bark roof. He listened; but no
sound of breath came from the lungs of Kirke
Howard.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
A PECULIAR BARGAIN.

Ir will be remembered that Colonel Overton
was left in a. recarious situation, some chapters
back. His p unge intothe water was so sudden
and unexpected that the shock confused him not
a little. Instinctiver he struck out for the
fallen tree the instant his head rose above the
surface, nor, though the current was swift and
powerful, did he ex rience much difficulty in
regaining the partia ly-submerged log. But he
had driven the young woman to desperation,
and shifting her grasp u on the fishing- ole,
Minnie Lambvdischarge a blow at the alf—
breed’s head, throwing all her strength into the
effort. Without a sound, Overton released his
grasp and sunk beneath the surface, knocked
senseless. Fortunately for him there was aid
close at hand, else his wild career would have
ended then and there; and 'border history
would have lost one of its wildest, most thrilling
pages. But of that hereafter. \

One brawny savage secured Minnie as she
leaped to shore, holding her helpless, one broad
palm pressing upon her lips and checkin the
shriek she strove to utter, while a secon and
third promptly siprung into the water to rescue
their leader. heir efforts were successful,
though it was several minutes after he was
dragged ashore ere Overton recovered his con-
sciousness. Then he burst into a storm of curs-
ing so furious that the red-men shrunk back

fan‘ly appalled. used as they were to wild and‘

tempestuous scenes.

In the midst of his bla hemy, Colonel Over-
ton caught sight of the pa e face of ,the captive
maiden, and a marvelously sudden change came
over him. All traces of anger vanished and his
voice was low and even as he arose and addreS-
od Minnie Lamb:

 

rt

“ I am overjoyed to find that on have em-
cluded not to desert us entirely, ear Minnie. I
can’t say that I appreciate your style of saying
good-by, thou h, and his white, inted teeth
glistened wol shly as he tender y rubbed the
rapidly-swellinglumpu n his forehand. “You
are too enthusiastic b alf.”

“ I wish that pole ad been a fence—rail and
my arm as strong as my heart was willing!" re-
torted Minnie, his evil glance rousing a. spirit of
resistance in her breast.

“If wishes were horses! but they are not-
unfortunately for you,” laughed Overton, as he
turned aside and faced a tall, finely-formed In-
dian who had taken no part in the recent events,
standing coldly aloof.
ing longer than I intended, chief,” he said,
speaking rapidly. “ I he d to induce the
squaw to go with on uiet y, but it don’t mat—
dtel-«binneh now. ou now what you are to

o

“ G-it heap whisky—you bet!” granted the
savage, and a. swift glitter in his eyes told how
dear to his heart was the white man's fire-
water.

“ Exactly—after you hand this squaw safe]
over to the Wolf of the Cha arral. You will
take her there; give the W0 f this talking pa—
per; and then drink yourself blind drunk as soon
as you please. But remember; no uaw, no
fire-water. If you lose her you can w istle for
your pay.”

“Den T urn-over he whis’le fo' he scalp. No
squaw—no fire-water—no scalp. Dat make um
even.”

“ My hands can guard my scalp, Grizzl Paw.
When black blood runs between us, chie , there
will be black faces in the lodges of the Lipans.
I am asking no favor of you. I hire you to do
me a servwe, and I agree to pay your own
price. If you are not satisfied, say so. You
can go your way and I will go mine. Is that
plain enough talk?” ‘

“ Me take aw to Wolf, git whisky—den me
talk,” the Li n chief responded, with a half-
concealed menace in his velce.

,Overton cared little for that. He carried his
life in his hand, and had for many a ear. One
enemy more or less gave him smal concern.
His present engagement faithfully carried out.
Grizzly Paw might go hang.

“ One word With you, my dear ” Overton said
to Minnie. “You are angry wit me just now.
nor do I blame you. But one of these days you
will understand me better. Meanwhile you are
as safe as though you were still a baby and in
your mother’s arms. These red entlemon will

treat you respectfully, andso wil the person to ‘

whom they are about to conduct you. I will
see on again in a day or so, and then explain
all t iat may appear strange to {fin just at pre—
sent. Keep a good heart, and lieve that all
will be well. Good-by, now, for the present.
Skin out, chief. The sooner you perform your
task the sooner you will corral that whisky !”
Without a word Grizzly Paw strode away to
the s ot where his horses and main force of
warriors were stationed, and mounting Minnie-
upon a led horse, the Lipans rode swiftly away.
Overton watched them until they were lost to
sight, then mounted his own horse, rode back
past the deserted cabin, crossed the river at the
ford and givin his animal a touch of the spur,
alloped swift y up the narrow, winding val-
V .

e .

The sun was half-way down the western sky
when Colonel OVerton entered the rude collec-
tion of buildings known as San Marcos. His
plans seemed well settled for he drew rein be—
fore a long, low adobe building, resigning his
‘aded horse to the mercies of a dirty, ragged

exican boy, then entered the hotel—for such
the building was, as evidenced by the cfligy of
a starin , sun-cracked saint above the narrow
door. e was met by a short fat, smoked-
bacon-hued landlord, who bowed and scraped
with disgusting s 'cophancy.

“Drop that, uan Tierra," said Overton,
sharply. “You have two travelers here—Amer—
icans, man and wife?"

The landlord bowed, silentl .

“They are old; call themse ves Marvin?”

Again a silent bow.

“ Good enough! go tell them—stay! Show
them into the most private room you have the»
come and take me to them. But mind, nan-
of-the—broken-knife! my business with those peo—
ple is private. If any of your spies come sneak—
ing around to eavesdrop, I’ll pin their ears to
the wall, and tell those at Galveston where they
can find the rest of that broken blade. You un-
derstandl”

The landlord cast an anxious glance around
and bowed again. He could not speak; his limbs
trembled violently as he. staggered from the
room.

Smiling grimly Colonel Overtonwaited. The
landlord returned and showed his unwelcome
visitor into a small apartment at the rear of the
building, where two persons, strangely agitated,
rose to receive him. Nodding shortly, Overton
first assured himself that no person was lurkin
within earshot, then removedhis hat and face
the couple. A single glance fold him that the
Elmo rested in his own hands. Mr. Marvin and.

’ wife were old, and seemed very feeble? They

\

“ I have kept you wait— ‘

 

 

 

    
 

 

  

 

.—

 

and anxiety.

“ You came in answer to my letter, I sup-
pose?” be n Overton. “You brought it with
you, as I irected?"

“Yes, sir; here it is," responded Mr. Marvin,
handing an open envelope to Overton, who
glanced over the contents, then slipped it into
his breast-pocket.

“That proves your identity sufficiently for
me. Now, listen. Between fifteen and sixteen
years ago you lost a child—a little girl. At that
time you ived in Missouri. Your house took
fire in the night and was burned to the ground.
Only for two belated-travelers who noticed the
glare who burst in the door and dragged you
two, sides three servants, out of the flames,
you would have burned to death. You were
nearly suffocated, as it was. Before an of you
recovered sufficiently to speak, the buil ing was
in ruins. You called for your child—an only
daughter three years old. No one could tell
you anything of its fate. And everybody, in-
Lludjng yourself, believed the child perished in
the flames.”

“But she escaped—you wrote that she was
yet givingl” gasped the mother, terribly agi—
(ute .

“ And I wrote the truth. As proof—see!" and
he produced the locket which he had stolen from
the Lamb cabin. “ This trinket was around the
child’s neck that night. The child that wore it
is still living. I alone know who and where she
is. And I am the only person living who can
restore her to your arms. "

“ You will! you cannot be so hard-hearted as
to torture a mother’s heart—”

“ I will—provided,” coldly responded Over-
ton. “I have spent years and much money in
solving the mystery. The first clew came to me
strangely, years ago. In a fight with Kiowas I
carried a wounded man to safety on my back.
But he wastoo badly injured to recover. Before
he died he gave me that locket and told me a
story. He confessed that he stabbed a rich far-
mer, stole his child, and then fired the house,
intending to give the alarm at the last moment.
His object was to extort a lar e sum from you
as ransom; but that same nig it, while slee )ing
in the woods, the child was stolen from iim.
He fancied he struck a Glow to the thief, and fol-
lowed it for over a month. When he returned,
intending to tell you that the child was living,
you had left the State; no one could tell him
where you had gone. He did not tell me your
name, or he died very suddenly; but I was in-
terested in the matter, and giving ita good deal
of my time, I struck oil at last. I know where
your daughter is, and I will deliver her to you,
when you pay me the sum I ask."

“Here is one-half down,” and Mr. Marvin
drew a bulky pocket-ka from his bosom. “ I
will give an the other five thousand dollars
when our c ild is restored to our arms.”

“ Good enough! I will not stop to count this
at’present. If it is all right, you shall meet your
ch (1. If wrong—”

“ I pledge you in honor—"

“ I am convinc , sir; you have too much at
stake to think of playing me false. Now, listen.
You will start from here on the day after to-
morrow, at noon. There will be a guide call for
you. If you fear double—dealing, you can take
as many guards along as ou please. This guide
will lead you to your c ild. I will meet you
with her. If you are satisfied, we will exchange
goods; you taking the girl and I the money. If
not—if there is an mistake—I will return this
sum, and try my uck in some other quarter.
Only—be sure and bring the money with you, for
1 am bound for San Francisco. And now—fare-
well until the day after to-morrow l”

CHAPTER XIV.
A WIFE FOR A LIFE.

BOWING low Colonel Overton left the room
and rc-entered the bar-room. The landlord met
him, cring'ng and fawning like a whipped pup-

,.

 

p'“ I want a room where I will be by myself.
Send me something to eat, and a bottle of your
best brandy. See that my horse is well fed,
watered and rubbed down. Lively, new!”

The Mexican feared the half-breed too much
to think of resenting his peremptory address,
and out no time to waste. 11 ten minutes Overton
was seated at a small table which was well pro-
vided with food and liquor. First making sure
that the door was secured and that no one was
lurking around the one window of the room, he
drew a chair up to the table and taking the
pocket-book from his breast opened it, extract-
ed its contents and rapid] ran them over. The
task was not a long one or the bills were all of
large denomination and he found that Mr. Mar-
vin had kept good faith in the amount.

“ So far so good i” he muttered, as he returned
the money to his breast. “ If the chief does
not fail me! Little danger of that, though.
His own good is too nearly coucemed; Let him
do his work well, and I’ll have a good stake to
start my new life with.”

With a low, exultant lahgh,and a glitterin
devil inhis snaky eyes, the half-breed ate an
drank heartily, little suspecting what eyes Were
watching him—had been watching him from

ware trembling with poorly-hidden agitation

 

 Equality 

the moment when he first seated himself at the
table to count over his money. .

Half an hour later he left the house and
mounted his horse, tossing a bit of silver to the
ragged, disre utable fellow who held his ani-
mal’s head. his man picked up the coin with
apeculiar chuckle. And then he glided down
the street, keeping his eyes fixed upon the tall
half»breed.

Straight through the town rode Overton,
striking into a road that led due north, trotting
leisurely along as though in no wa s pressed for
time, is brain was busy, and 1e paid little
attention to his surroundings. He was revol-
ving the details of an intricate, diabolical plot
that could only have found birth in the brain of
one utterly devoid of all conscience, honor or
humanity. What this scheme was, the sequel
will show.

The sun sunk from view. The gray twilight
settled over the prairie. Colonel Overton
roused himself with a low, grating laugh. He
believed that he had 1provided for every contin-
gency, and impresset each detail upon his mind.

ising in his stirrups he castaquick, sweep—
ing glance around him. A hissin curse passed
his 1i )5 as he wrenchod his anima around and
faced the back-trail. His eyes opened wider,
and he brushed one hand across them as though
to clear his vision.

“ Gone! and I could have sworn that some one
was do ging me! I saw him plain as day. Has
{1): PM enf Idon’t see any cover, but it may

Overton drew a revolver and assured himself
that the cylinder worked freely, and that the
caps were well down upon their nipples. Hold-
ing the weapon ready for instant use he gave
his horse free rein and trotted swiftly along up-
on his own trail, his eyes roving keenly, close y
scrutinizing every foot of the round. He rode
beyond the spot where he ha seen, or fancied
he saw, the spy, then rapidly quartered the
ground in every direction, though the prairie
grass did not seem high enough to cover a dog,
much less a man.

" It must have been fancy,” Overton muttered
at [on rth, drawin rein for a last careful lance
aroun him. “’ here is no one here. must
have sighted him if he had tried to run away.
And yet—I could have sworn that a man was
followiinr me, afoot. I don't know what to think
of it. Three times, now, have I been tricked in
this same way. Is some one dogging me, or—
can it be that I am haunted?"

As these words dropped from his lips Over-
ton swept his eyes around swiftly, and a pe-
culiar tremor crept over him. Then, with a
forced laugh, he plunged his spurs deep into the
flanks of his mustang and dashed away, mutter—
mg:

“Man or spook, whichever it is, will need
li ht heels to follow me now i”

‘or nearly an hour the half-breed kept up this
rate of speed, then drew rein at the top of a
small knoll; the only rising ground there was
for miles around. Dismounting he drew a small
powder-flask from his pocket, and ourmgla
>ortion of its contents into the pa in of is
and he mois ened it with spittle, rolling the
mixture into a small ball. Coveringl this _with
dry )owder and placing it all upon t e .pomt of
his knife, he struck a match and ignited the
spit-ball. I .

Holding the splutterin beacon above his
head, he described severa fantastic figures in
the air with it, then flung the remainder far
from him.

With a grunt of satisfaction Colonel Overton
squatted upon the ground and lit his pipe for a
smoke whi o awaiting an answer to his signal.
He was not kept long in suspense. From the
darkness beyond came the sharp, querulous
barking of'a coyote. Removing llll-l pipe Over-
ton imitated the sound. A minute later a tall,
dark fi rure glided up the knoll and confronted
the huff-breed. Though the night was dark, the
few stars above gave light sufficient for Overton
to recognize in the Indian who stood before him
the ierson whom he had signaled.

“ on are welcome, chief," the half-breed
said, using the Kiowa dialect. “1 am glad to
see you.”

“My brother is late. Whirlwind has been
waiting,” coldly responded the red-man.

“That was not in fault. A do was f0110w—
inc: my trail, and had to sto is prowling.
There is time enough. What I iave to say will
not take long."

“ My ears are opened.
speak.” ,

“Sit .down and smoke. We are friends and
brothers,” said Overton, setting the example.
“Now listen. The Whirlwind is a great chief.
When his voice is raised for war, the whole
Kiowa nation paint their faces, and his ene-
mies smooth tieir scalp-locks ready for his
kuil"e:”

“Turn-over has a long tongue. He can sing
as sweet as the mocking—bird. He talks; Whir -
wind does.” '

Overton winced at the rude, insulting tone of
the Kiowa. He knew that the chief despised
him, for good reasons. There was no love lost
between them; but the half—brecd’s present
policy was. one of conciliation, and he affected

1

/

Let Turn—over

/

 

'11

to rteceive the Indian' ’3 words as a compli-
men . -

“The chief says well. Turn-over will show
him that his arm is as long as his ten l'ue when
he wishes to serve a friend. Has It hirlwind
found another white squaw to take the place of
Gold Hair!” '

“ No; but the Mexican moon is near."

“There is a young white squaw still nearer.
She is nice and fat and love] as the mountain
partridge. Will Whirlwin reach forth his
mind and take her to his lodge?”

“ What bait must be putin Turmover's hand?"
shrewdly responded the chief.

“ A scalp: nothing more. Listen. Many

ears ago a white brave lost his little pappoose.

found her. Her father is rich. Ho ve me
some money to restore his child. I to] him he
should have her. I told him she was far away, -
and that it would take me two days to bring
her to meet him. He promised to bring me more
money. You will come, too, with your braves.
You will lie hidden until the pale-face gives me
the money. I will give him his daughter. Then
vou will come and take your squaw. Does
‘Whirlwind see?"

“ Yes. Whirlwind takes the squaw and the
money." .

“ No; the squaw but the money is mine. ‘You
will take the old white head ca tive. You will
carry them off and threaten him with the tor—
ture—stake. He is very rich, and will give you
much money, guns, pistols, knives, horses and
anything you ask. 'hou you get these goods,
you can let him go free, or else take his scalp,
Just as you choose."

“Whose is the scalp I am to give Turn-
over?”

“You know the man they call the Cha arral
Wolf ‘5 He will bewith me. You must kl lhim.
When I see his scalp, then I will be paid for the
white squaw. It is not much. He will not be
thinking of danger. You can easily kill him.”

“Turn-over is not a pap oose. His hand is
heavy enough to kill a we f,” gruntod Whirl-
wind.

‘8 have my reasons. I give you a big rice
to take his scalp for me. I you will not 0 it,
say so. Grizzly Paw is ready to do the jo .”

“Grizzly Paw is an old squaw! He would
ruiiffr’om a prairie—dog. Whirlwind will kill the
we .

“ Goodl Remember, then. Two nights from
this, at the Buffalo Hum ). You will 0 there
before the sun sets. Hi( 9, and wait. ERth I
raise my hand, you will strike."

The two cons iii-ators arose, and with a few
words, separate . Colonel Overton stood still,
peering for several minutes into the darkne-
wherc the Kiowa had vanished. Then be
mounted his horse and turning his head toward
San Marcos, rode leisurely away.

“If he plays his part well—and he will not
fail, for he is crazy or another white squaw—
if he docs not fail me, I will soon be free from
his tyranny. I will be welcome to the Kiowa
lodges, after this. Maybe I can play a double
game there, too!”

Muttering to himself, giving hints of the com-
plicutcd plots that seet ed in his busy brain,
Colonel (. i erton failed to notice the dark 11 re
that uproso in his path until too late to aver his
doom. A rifle or pistol flashed before his eyes,
and with a hollow groan he fell backward from
the saddle. A dark ll rure sprung upon him and
tore open his coat. t took a pocket-book and
some papers. then darted away in the darkness .
like a stun-tied hare.

CHAPTER XV.
A PHANTOM or THE NIGHT.

A nazznmo jet of flame pierced the thickly-
lcavod bushes, a sharp report rung forth, and
with a spasmodic start the condemned traitor
flung back his head, only kept from falling upon
his horse's haunches by the taut lasso. And the
red blood spurted from a round hole directly be~
tween his eyes. . "

For an instant the Rangers stood speechless,
so completely were they taken by surprise.
But then, as the saw that their Victim was
snatched from t em by death, and heard I.
crashing, floundering home in the undergrowth,
a wild yell of angry vengeance arose, and as
one man they drew their wea ions and dashed
headlong for the point from w ace the death—
shot hnd sped.

Dashing Ned was amen the foremost, and
scarcely had he taken a ozcn ate 3 into the ‘
darkness, when he stumbled over a uman fig—
ure, fallin'r headlong to the ground. Without a
moment’s hesitation he rolled swiftly over and
grappled with the unknown. The rough flannel
shirt and long beard that met his grasp told the
young Ranger captain that he was gm pling
with a man, though there was but a tri ng re-
sistance made. As he pinned the follow to tho‘

 

ground, he uttered a sharp cry that speedily , .

brou rht his scattered men to his side.

A ozcn stout hands seized upon the captive
and dragged him into the flrolit glnde, when
the dead traitor dangled at the end of the lasso
his horse having shared the general alarm I .
joined the remainder.

"Good heavens!" ejaculated Dashing Ned a.
the red glow fell upon the face of his u

v

 

l

12

“ Hector Lamb! What does this mean? What

made you shoot Jim Brown?”

Thofiant settler trembled like a leaf, staring

aroun with a piteous air of bewilderment,
seemingly unable to repl . But if he could not,
another could. The bus es arted and Mistress
Nancy marched up to the si e of her husband,

_ slapping viciously at the bands which still
gras him.

“ o didn't shoot nobody Mister Conwa !
’Nd I’d like to know what right you’ve ot to
chasin' honest folks around, ketchin’ o ’em up
an’ luggin‘ ’em around like they was hog-

- thieves!‘

“ Some person shot that man—”

. “I know it! they ’most blowed my ear off,
too! But that’s no reason you should treat my

*muntlmt—a-Way, is it? We came all this way

. to ax your help, but of this is the way you treat
your friends— ’

“’Twns a mistake. Scatter out, boys! I‘ll
answer for it. that neither of these persons fired
that shot. Keep in couples, make a wide swee

' around, and fetch in whoever you can fin .
Lively, now!”

The Rangers obeyed Dashing Ned’s orders
with a promptness that spoke well for their dis-
cipline, and then the captain turned to the
Lambs. It required no little tact on his _ art to
soothe the ruffled dignity of Mistress ancy,
but a chance question concerning Minnie Lamb

. set her off on the right trail, when a few min-‘

utes sufficed to give Conway the main points of
the girl’s abduction.

A bitter oath escaped his lips as he saw how
plain the proof pointed to Colonel Overton as

he abductor.

“I have longed for a chance at him this year
past, but he was too cunning. Luckily I can
soon learn whether or no he committed this out—
rage.‘ He can’t stir a step but it will be report—
ed to me. If he has stolen Minnie away, it. will

’ not be hard to rescue her and punish him. Do

not fret, Aunt Nanc —”

-, A loud crashing in the bushes interru ted
‘ Dashing Ned, and one of the Rangers entere he
glade, a white look of horror upon his face.

“ Jest come out, boss! the devil‘s to work out
in the open—jest come out an’ see 1”-

That the man was in sober earnest could not
be doubted for a moment. And it must be
something very far from the ordinary run to
' so utterly unman one of his known coura e.

Catching up his rifle Dashin Ned be e the

Ranger lead the wa , and p unged into the
shru bery, closely to owed by the two Lambs.
“Thar it is now!” huskily uttered the Ranger

‘ as they emerged upon the open prairie. “ Good

IA.de that sech pizen things is ’lowed to run

, Despite his sound ood sense and tested
. courage, Dashing Ned all; a peculiar thrilling
of awe as he stared at the weirdly fantastic ob-
t that was swiftly floating over the prairie
first one direction, then another. It bore the
semblance of a human head; but a head that

. . was composed of living tire, flaming blue and

H"

l .

‘ i

a 

       
     
     

     

1' ; “Silence!” sharply cried

   
 
  



A;

“

ghastly, now paling, anon flashing up into a
' riiliancy that dazzled the eyesight. It floated
along at several yards above the prairie level,
ing even and smooth, (giving forth no sound,
- aving no scent behin it. It made a wide
sweep, then turned and swiftly neared the spot
where Dashing Ned stood. The Ranger captain
raised his rifle, covered the ghastly object and
finned the trigger. Asthe weapon exploded the
cry head disap ared. There was no sound
have the shar ec ices of the shot.

Dashing ed uttered a shrill whistle as he
darted toward the spot where his target had
vanished, and relieved from that ghoulsomo
sight, the Ran rs hastened to join him. But an
instant later ancy Lamb uttered a piercing
shriek. The cause was self—evident. Far away
upon the praire shone the fler head!

asking Ned, as a
euBerstitious murmur arose among his men.
“ on’t make asses of ourselves! That head
on fire is a cunning tric but after all it is noth-
ing more than a trick. That head is either on
or above the shoulders of a living man. . What
he is playing us for. I can’t imagine but I swear
to find out if there’s virtue in powder and lead.

A - Go fetch the animals—lively!”

“It‘s comin’, boss l” asped the Ranger who
had first brought Ned t e tidings.
“Let it come. Ready with your weapons,
boys. Wait for the word, then fire a foot or
, two under the head. If there’s living flesh and
blood—” ’
He paused abruptly. The fiery head had
Awanished as completely as though it had never

' i been! I
I

“Slick enough. but it won’t work. Get the
horses, and we'll soon corral this will-o’-the-

, wisp," persisted Dashing Ned, thoroughly

are
"' His order was obelyed with commendable

romptness, but ere t 6 Rangers returned the
miniahead was again visible, this time nearly
aquar r of a mile ' t, remaining motion-
 At a word from their leader the Ran ers
mounted, and even the two Lambs scram led
n ' n their mules. Straight for the fle head
s I hing Ned the way, trotting swif l , his
.feapoureedy 0 use.‘ ,v .

 

 
   

 

7 "Beadle’s r Dime Library. h

The vision seemed to divine his urpose, for
at nearly the same instant it mov ahead in a
straight course. The men eyed it closely, but
their uneasinem was not lessened as they noted
how evenly it floated. The
that the horse was ever foale that could run,
pace or trot so smoothly, and nothing but their
strong love and fidelity to their young leader
kept them from turning tail and eating a re-
treat at full speed.

Dashing Ned gave the word and urged his
animal on at breakneck speed, resolved to run
the phantom head down. Mile after mile was
traversed, but the relative distance dividin
them remained the same. The phantom seemed
to measure its speed by theirs. Convinced at
len 11 that the unknown held the heels of them,
No resolved to try another plan.

Lea ing to the ground he'pulled up a quan—
tit 0 dry rass and struck alight. Then he
ca led off

tionless as though awaiting their coming.

“ We will divide, three on a side, and try to
surround the rascal. The rest will wait here,
keeping up the fire. He will think we have
given over the chase in disgust, and so we can
trap him easily. CIOse in on him if you can,
but if not, drop him cold! Strike out, now:

kegp as quiet as you can."

ollowed b is two comrades, proceeding
cautiousl an keepin out of a line with the
fire, Das in Ned r e in a wide semicircle,
hoping to gain the further side of the phantom.
For some minutes the prospect of success seem—
ed fair; but then the head vanished, only to re.
appear as suddenly, far ahead. Twice more this
occurred, until even Ned became convinced that
the unknown was too cunning to be trapped by
such means, and discharged his rifle as a signal
for his men to join him.

“ We’ll run him down if it takes a month!
Spread out in a line so he can’t double, then
forward!”

These tactics were kept u for full two hours
longer; until the stars told t at they were draw-
ing near. The fiery head still led them. Dog-
gedly the Rangers ursued, urging their jaded
animals on as rapi y as possible.

“ An hour longer and we’ll be able to see what
su ports that head,” muttered Dashing Ned.

ut this was not to be. Suddenly the ban-
tom paused, remaining motionless unti the
Rangers were within three hundred yards, then
vanishing as mysteriously as before. And from
the place where it had gleamed, a ball of fire
shot hi h up into the air, describing a beautiful
arabo a, fl1ckering less and less brightly as it
8. upon the ground.
ashing Ned lloped forward, dismounted
and secured the all. As he did so he felt a bit
of paper crackle in his hand.

CHAPTER XVI. ,
“EQUALITY urn” IN A RAGE.

THosn were minutes fraught with horror to
Mark Bird as he lay helplessly beside what he
feared was the corpse of is cousin. Sharply as
he listened he could not detect the faintest sign
of life; no sound of breathing, no throbbing of
blood in the arm that lightly touched his Side.
And his heart grew deathly sick as he was forced
to believe that the midnight assassin had done his
work only too well.

Fortunately for the young man’s senses there
came an interruption to his horrible brooding.
The door opened and two men entered, one hear-
ing a liberal supply of roasted meat in a tin
dish, the other With a canteen of water and a
pot of hot coffee.

“ Reckon you’re ready fer grub, ain’t ye,
critters?” the foremost fellow grinned, as he do.
posited his burden upon the floor. .

But his humor instantly changed as his ze
fell upon the white, rigid face of Kirke 0w—
ard. With a curse of angry alarm he stooped
over the risoner, hastily cutting his bonds and
tearing t e cruel gag from between his jaws.

“He ain’t dead! Gimme that water, Dave~
run steel or berry some whis . Lively, boy !”

Holding the canteen several eet above the face
of the senseless captive, the outlaw suffered the
cold spring water to fall in a steady stream on the
upturned features. The success of this treat-
ment was soon evident. With a gaspin moan,
Howard opened his eyes. The outlaw uckled
with a grim pleasure as he extended his hand

 

for the flask of whisky which his comrade had

obtained.

“Take a sniff 0’ this, boss,” he said, raising
Howard’s head. “So! you look more like it,
gym,” I wonder do you al’ays sleep as sound as

at

“ Look at them finger prents on his throat—”
began the lad but his wondering exclamation
was cut short by the heavy hand of his compan-
ion striking across his lips.

“You don’t want to talk so dumed much
Limpy. Too long a tongue ain’t healthy; min
that.’ v

“ You can’t stop my tongue so easy,” huskin
inte d Mark Bird, tonderl fingering his
we on throat. “ Some cow y fiends tried
to murder us last ni ht—"

“ You kin tell that to the boss, critter,”

coolly Intern-wad theoutlsw. “ You’re to be’

.

- i .' 'U’:

did not believe 1

ve of his most trusty followers, j
pointing ahead, where the phantom shone mo-

  

.A,_n... i, . ...

! bnmg to him in hafe an hour. Better eat an’
1drink while you kin. It may be our last
, chaince. Old Eph’s on his high boss t is mom-
, in.

“Eat if you can Mark," muttered Howard,
moistoning his parched throat. “ We will need
all our strength before we get out of this scrape. "

“You’re right, Kirke. ,I don’t suppose it
; would spite these villains one mite if we were

to starve ourselves, and I’d hate to go under
, owing them so much. There are some debts one
‘ can easily forgive, but not such as this. If I
. live they‘ll have good cause to wish they‘d done
, up their work better last night.”

“Careful, Mark!” muttered Howard with a
warning glance. “These fellows are listening
eagerly. Be Wary; there was more than mur-
dor intended lust ni ht. 11y papcrs are gone!”

“But why so muc trouble when they could
, have taken them openly? I on’t understand!”

“ Time’s up !” interrupted the outlaw, arising.
“The cap’n wants to see you two critters, an’
I’m to fetch ou afore him. Mind, you cain’t
git away, an’ ’ve ot orders to lay ye out ef you
try any tricks. othin’ like startin’ flat-footed’s
m motto. Roust up. now!”

l‘he prisoners obeyed in silence. If they and
thought of attempting to escape by a. bold dash,
the moment they emerged from the hut, the
worse than folly of such a course was made evi-
dent. Adozen or more of rough, armed men
were lounging about the clearing, and are a
down steps could be taken, the prisoners would
have been shot down or else surrounded and
ov‘evrgowered b more weight of numbers.

law who guarded the cousins paused and rudely
saluted a man who was reclining won a pile of
skins before the door of a hut. e prisoners
glanced curiously at this man. From the re~
s ctful demeanor of their free and easy guard
t ey knew that they stood before the chief 0
out aws—a bold, daring rascal whose name was
only too well known throughout South—western
Texas.

Tall and finely formed, his face was still flerw
ly handsome, though dissi tion and an unregu—
lated career had marred th face and figure.
This was the man whose fierce lawlessness and
reckleSs cruelty had ained for him the signifi-
cant sobriquct: the olf of the Chaparral. He
was proud of the title, and never lost an oppor~
tunity of proving its fitness. Of late days he
had selected another nom de guerre, which he
fancied still better indicated his chosen profes-
sion; and the fame of “ Equality Eph ’ bade
fair to equal that gained by the Chaparral Wolf.

“1 sup you know who I am, gentlemen?”
he uttered, in a low, soft tone, toying with a re-
volver butt at his waist.

“ A horse—thief, footpad and woman-thief,”
promptly responded Mark Bird. “ All this, and
worse, for aught I know.”

“And your master, you might add,” the out-
law said, in the same low, soft tone, but with a
gathering fire in his eyes. “I have but to lift
my finger, and you are food for dogs. But I did
not send for you simply to handy epithets. You
admitted, last nioht that your names were
Kirke Howard and Mark Bird‘ that! you came
to Texas in answer to a letter rom one David
Woodson. And I confessed that I am Woodson.
I had an object in writing that letter, of course
I knew that it would bring you out here; that
you would fetch with you papers of importance
to prove your connection with the persons who
died at Live Oak Ranch—”

“ Who were foull murdered. you mean," bit-
ter] interru ted oward.

“ urdere , if the word suits you better,”
laughed Equality Eph. “ They are dead, at an
rate. There has been an enormous fortune
to that man or his heirs. This fortune has fallen

proved your right to this roperty ?”
“ You know that I did,’Pbitterly uttered How-

ard.

“I suspected as much; but how should I
know?”

“ Bah! are we tools! For what reason did you
have us bound and gagged last night?”

“Because you were interfering in a matter
that did not concern you. You were intrud-
ing upon the privacy: of a young lady friend
of mine, and I too the Simplest method of
checking our curiosit ; nothing more.”

“Ind ! and pray w do you explain the
rest? Why did you stea upon us in the dead of
night, throttle us and steal awe. the apers
which ounow sobrazenly deman ? Loo lmy
throat ' the mark of your assassin fingers
even yet 1” ‘

“Are you crazy, man?” eflaculated Equality
Eph, as he sgrung erect. “ never visited you
last night. never assaulted you, never .touch-
ed a paper—bah! you are trying to blind me.
Will you give me those documents, or must
have an searched l” -

V itI
well last night. ” .

At a motion from their chief, two men ad:
vanced and thorough! searched the 
ffiqil‘l'mfittofiiiscoveranyehing. Cursing 'ousl ,

y
cousins been confined, and-searched in
every com, every crack M'm no

  

  

    

 

 

en near t 6 center of the clearing, the out- i

to you. Now, have you brought the papers that,

ve’ them not. You did your work too.

at! to the hut where o

 

l
i

i :

 
    
  
   
  
  
    
  
   
     
  
       
     
 
  
    

  
 

    

    

    
   
 

 

   
  
 
  
   

  
    
  

Imy

‘ d°w"' th hagarral
' vein 0 0 now.
, bolyagn guardt eir

W

 

icion, that thely had suspected his pu .e,
an sou ht to fo’ it by concealing the ocu-
ments. ut his search was in vain,

As he emerged, his men shrunk aside in fear
and trembling, so terrible was his rage. Con—

fronting Howard he thrust a cooked revolver ,

Eta his face, muttering in a strained, deadly
ne:

“ Tell me where you have hidden those pa-

rs, or by the living Eternal! I'll blow your

rains out!"

“ If I knew where they were, I’d never utter
a word while you tr
sion,” quietly said irke. “Put aside your
weapon, and act more like a man.”

For one moment the Chaparral Wolf hesi-

tated, and every one present felt that the rash ‘

young fellow had sealed his doom. But the pis-
tol was lowered, undischarged.

“Now you’re acting half-way decent ” added
Howard. “You play your part well, but you
should remember that we have been behind the
scenes. You say that you did not rob us. Of
course we cannot doubt a gentleman of honor.
I suppose you sent some 0 our fellows to do
the dirty work. If so, ask t em for the papers,
not us.”

“ Upon your word of honor these papers were
lstolen from you, last night?” demanded the out-

aw.

“ I have said so once; that is enough,”

“ Tell me the whole affair; just how it oc-
curred.”

“ First; why are you so anxious to obtain pos-
session of the papers? They cannot possibly in-
terest you.”

“They interest me so much that with them,
and you dead, I could easily obtain every dollar
of that fortune. Now, answer my question. ”

Though sorely puzzled by the outlaw‘s asser-
tion Howard no longer refused, but, aided by
Mar , gave the clearest explanation he could to
the m sterious event of the past night.

“ 0 was on guard at the cage, last night,
Evmsl” demanded Equality Eph, of his nearest
follower.

“Tom Kennedy, cap’n,” was the prompt re-

1 .
p z Where is he! go send him here. I can't un-
derstand it,” he muttered, as to himself. “Tom
is true as steel. And yet there has been treach-
erfi somewhere. If Ican find out where I"
vans soon returned, accompanied by Ken-
nedy, who looked as though he had 'ust been
awakened. Forafew moments the olf 8 ed
him keenly, seekin to read the truth. His ips
parted to s eak: a that instant Tom Kmmcdy
ng My 1 into the air, [ling (lead, upon his
ace! There was no nimble wound; there was
no report of eiihcr gun or pistol. Yet the out-
law was stone dead!

 

CHAPTER XVII.
THE wow SEEKS rrs LAIR.

Tim outlaws stared in o en—mouthed astonish-
ment as their comrade tel heavily to the earth.
There had been no report of rifle or pistol no
litter of a knife, nor had any person touched
om Kenned with so much as a linger-ti ).
They fancied 1e had slipped and fallen possitfiy
overtaken by a fit; all but Equality Eph. e
recalled the mysterious death of his spy_at San
Antonio, and without steeping to examine the
fallen guard, he knew that be, too, was dead.
But by what means? By whose bands? These
questions flashed rapidly through the outlaw’s
brain, but he did not give them utterance. One
swift glance around, and his determination was
taken.

“ Scatter and beat the brush, boys! There’s
an assassin near at hand. He’s murdered poor
Kennedy. Bring him in alive if you can, but
take him—”

Equality E h bit his, sentence short off and
raised a revo ver with a fierce snarl, as a man
broke through the line of close-growiu shrub-
hery and entered the little clearing. ut the
weapon was not discharged. Just in the nick of
time the outlaw chief recognized one of his own
men in the new-comer. He saw, too, that the
fellow was greatly excited, and at once jumped
tothe conclusion that he had encountered the
sterious slayer. .

Quick! where is he?—-—Wh1(‘.h way did he go?”
he cried, springing forward to meet the man.

“They’re out yonder—nigh a hunderd! Com-

 

  
   
      
  
          

      
   

       
      
   
     
       
           
    
      
   
  
  
  
  
 
 

 

‘in‘ right in ’long the trail. The jig’s up, bossl’,’

Equality Eph stared in mute amazement.

uL almost instantly be divined the mistake.

th““;,hat did you come to report? who is out
ere

“TheRan rs—Dashin’ Ned—blasthiml He’s
got a hull regiment o’ critters—”

At this moment Martin the lieutenant of the
band; hastened into the clearing. His face was
troubled. though his voice was cool and steady.

“ 1 cap get nothing out of this fool! Tell me
what 18 u , Martin,” hurriedly demanded

Equalit Ep .

DES ing Ned and his hounds have run us
He has about fifty men. They are en-
1 have given the
directions, and they will de-
lay, it not entirely baffle him. I am here for
 vitflghum-m’n \

U" I. I,

  

 
 

\

to scare me into confes‘ ,
word when we are ready for you to fal back.”

W Equality“ Eph.

“Run, if we can, without too much risk.
There’s nothin but hard knocks to be won of
those brutes. et—if we were not so incum—
bered with the women and prisoners, I’d ask
nothing better than a brush."

“ You can send them on to the Den in charge
of two or three men,” said Martin.

“No. There is too much at stake to risk it
now. Do you take as many men as you wish,
and do the best you can with those hounds.
Lead them astray if you can; keep them back
as long as possible, without letting them close
hand to hand. Go, now. I’ll give ou the

“Take your time, captain. Dashing Ned
will] find his hands full, unless I greatly mis-
ta {0.

Collecting a dozen men the lieutenant hasten-
ed back to the scene of danger with all the ar-
dor of a bridegroom seeking his new-made
bride. Black and sin-stained though his heart
was, the fear of mortal man never found lodg-
ment therein.

“ There is danger brewing, fatherlf’ uttered a
clear, soft voice, and as Equality Eph turned
(uickly he encountered the bright glance of
Missouri Belle. “I caught a rtion of what
Martin said. Tell me what i is, that I may
know how to act.”

“ I‘ashing Ned haslod his Rangers down upon
us. We could fight him, but there would be
more loss than we can afford. Go get your
horse ready. We’re bound for Black swamp.
Haste! there is no time to lose I" _

“And the prisoners?" asked Belle, with a

lance to where the cousins stood, still guarded
y Evans.

“They o with us of course. Only for them
and you, fwould fight this young our, and send
him yelping to his last home. But my time will
come. Go now; do as I bid you.”

Without more words Missouri Belle obeyed.
Equality Eph called another of his men and
turned over to him and Evans the care of the
tw0 )risoners.

“ at them on horseback; tie their feet to-
gether and their hands behind their backs. You
will ride with them, and in case of the worst——
if the Rangers press us too hard, and there is
danger of a rescue, blow out their brains.
Make sure work of him, first," and the outlaw
touched Kirke Howard upon the shoulder.

The clearing was now a scene of confusion.
A dozen or more women were hurrying to and
fro, some of them bearing babes at their
breasts, others scolding older children into a
terrified silence. The remaining men were
hastily preparing horses for the road, and pack-
ing up the least cumbersome articles of their
plunder.

From near the edge of the chaparral, still a
mile or more distant, there came a faint, single
report, followed by several other allots. Equal-
ity Eph frowned uneasily. He knew that the
Rangers must be pressing their advance stub-
bornly. With angry impatience he urged his
men to renewed exertion, and so successfully
that ten minutes later the majority were in the
saddle leaving the other animals, saddled and
bridled, secured to the surrounding trees, ready
for the outlaws under Martin when they should
be forccdto fall back.

Equality Eph and his daughter rode beside
the cousins. Without miucing his words the
former told them that at the least trouble they
gave, or at the first sign of an attempted rescue,
the would be at once put to death.

Fir Several minutes the party wound along
the narrow trail, listening to the sounds from
the rear. The report of fire-arms were growing
more frequent, and instead of growing fainter,
sounded nearer and more distinct. Equality
Eph grated his teeth in anger as he was forced
to believe that his men were being forced back.

“ Eternal curses on that Martin 1” he snarled.
“If he must retreat wh don’t be take another
trail? The cowardly 001 is bringing them
straight upon our backs l” '

“' here is some one following us at speed,”
said Belle, drawing rein and bendin her head.
“I can hear the stroke of a horse’s oofs upon
the beaten trail.” ,

Orderin the others to press on Equality Eph
halted, loo 'ing to his weapons. lint these were
not required just at resent. A single rider
for ed in view and relned his panting horse in
at t eir feet. Without givinghim time to speak,
the Wolf exclaimed:

“ Wh is Martin bringin these hounds on our
trail? Vhy did he not 0 ey orders and lead
them toward the Kiowa trail?”

“ We did the best we knowed‘, cap’n; but luck
was a ’inst us,” hurriedl but deprecatingly an-
swere the outlaw. “ artin started us on that
trail, an’ we thought all was goin’ on right but
all to oncet the Rangers struck out for the c ear-
in’, straight as a die. We tried to head ’em off,
but ’twasn't no use. You know how bad the
bresh is. They kep’ on, an’ we could only foller
an’ ster ’em all we knowed. Martin sent me
on a cad an’ I tuck a hoes an’ come to tell you
what was up. In 1655’!) a quarter them imps ’ll
be here." ‘ ,

“Ride on and tell the men to wait for us at

 

  
 

the further side of the LongO I ” abru t1
ordered Missouri Belle. “Napyef’lfnslgd added: as;

   
     
  
   
 
  
   
  
    
      
  
  
   
  
   
   
 
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
   
 
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
    
  
   
  
    
  
    
  
   
  
     
 
        

13

Equality Eph stared at her in surprise, “ I have
my reasons, father. I think I can see a way out.
of this scrape. Come; we can talk as we ride
along. I can do nothing until we have passed
the fork in the trail.”

They trotted alou the trail at a leisurely
rate, the sounds of ring drawing nearer with
every minute. In a few well~cliosen sentences
Belle revealed her plan; one of no little danger
to herself, but she made light of this, nor did
the Wolf seem greatly troubled.

After passing a point where the trail divided
the twain drew rein, and the girl added:

“Do you ride on and prepare the men. Be— L-
lieve me, it will all come about as I say.
Martin is no fool, and he will be ready to seize
the opportunity. Go, now; we will meet again,
soon.

“ I will do as you say, Belle. I hopo all will
turn out well. You are a good child, and I hate
to leave such work to you. Let me stay in your

place."
“You would only fail father. Go—there is.
no time to lose. Go—and God guard you!"
The outlaw pressed his lips to her brow, then

urged his horse along the beaten trail.

CHAPTER XVIII.
WOLVES AND MABTII‘TS.

THERE was a oculiur, cloyin smell about tho,
flickering flrebsl as Dashing ed picked it up
from the ground that at Once gave him a clew
to the mystery of the fiery head. He knew
that the ghastly, bluish light was produced by
a chemical reparation, in all probability phos~
phoratcd other or some kindred agent. But
who was playing such a bold trick? what could
be his object!

As he asked himself this question, Dashing
Nod felt the bit of paper rattle among the grass
blades which were wound around it. Crouch-
in r down he struck a match and ignited a. hand-
fu of dry grass. By this light he succeeded in
deciphering the scroll. There was neither ad‘
dress nor signature. ‘

“ Chaparral due oust. Look for a broken-topped
tree and a hawk‘s nest. Search closely and you
will find a treasure.“

Dashing Ned stamped out the fire, and gave
the word for his men to dismount and what
their animals, since the hunt was u no ‘ da ,
at least. When this was accom lil ed, hec —
ed his men to other and told hem what was
Written upon t e pa or, together with his solu-
tion of the fiery li .

“ No man would run such a risk for nothing.

I can’t imagine the motive, but I’ll find out be-
fore I quit the trail. Where’s Lambl”

“Ef you mean the critter you ketchedback
yender, cap’n, they dropped out o‘ the chess ‘
good two hours a o. Mules ‘ out, I reckon.” 3

“ It doesn’t mat r much," sshing Ned mut~
tered, more to himself than the Ranger.

“ Double Dan will make his report in plenty
time, and much sooner than we could learn any~ 1
thing by taking the trail.” .‘

With the first ray of light Dashing Ned set-
to work, and his men jomcd him with even
more than usual order when they noticed tho-
cloar, fresh trail left by a shed horse. Fee '
assured that they were dealin with one o
mortal flesh and blood, inste of a super-
natural being, they; were, one and all, eager to
make amends for t 0 past ni ht. ;

The trail led straight for a ong line of timber, y
due east, and distant less than one mile. Halt- “,‘r
ing when just be ond rifle-shot, Dashing Ned V
and two men rm 0 ahead, followin the trail F
until it entered the undergrowth that fringed. V‘,

the Chaparral.
an’ it‘s got a

,5'.
l

 

   
 
   
   
  

“ 'I‘har’s the broken-topped tree
nest in it, tool" muttered Fred Meyer; a grin- -
zled and weather-beaten pluinsman. ' 4 ‘

“I see; we’ll dismount and take it afoot,”
said Conwa , resolutely. “ There ma be a trap "
set for us, ut even so, the boys w. 1 take big. ‘9‘
pay for anything that befalls us. Look to oury
weapons and koe an e e out for‘snags.” .

Making a signa for t e Rangers to hold their a
places until further orders, Dashing Ned ushed. ‘
into the dense shrubbery, heading for the oken , .
tree. Nothing but natural obstacles interfered ‘
with their progress, and two minutes later In;
stoodlbeside the tree. A square of white gape? 
was pinned to the bark with a sharp om.‘
Eagerly watched by his men the young ca} tain
secure this, and read aloud the words it con.»
tained: , .

“You are in earnest, and that isgood. This traiL' a
will lead you to the haunt of the man whom your
have sought so long. His tome does not outnum-
ber ours. If on are in the humor, the bowl of t
the haparral oil will never more insult the oil‘-
of honest men. Send your scouts ahead to clau-
the trall It is guarded, though carelessly.
press on, not pause until your work is done.

"DOUBLE SIGHT, rm: Dunn ram." ‘

“ Ef he’s on our side, it‘s all right,” muttered
Meyqr, but with an uneasy glance around him.

‘ I What he says is true, he’.
we ever struck l” and Dashing Ned’s fins)“ I:
told how sincere were his words. “ Layfivgazz ,
watch the trail, while Igo call up the boys” 3-,

Several men were left to bring up the honey; *I
while the main force advanced upon foot, pro-H, -

,,
,.

   
    
 
 

     
  
    
    
 
 
 
     
  
 
      

 
   

  
   

J1

  
   

 
   
  

    

 

 

   
 
 

ceded by four chosen scouts, who were

i

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i

 



Beadlew’s Dime Library.

 

,....._

.41

 

to press ahead and spy out the position and 1 they had of their-danger. Before thevcould do

stren h of the outlaws then to return and re-
port, if possible without raising an alarm.

This plan of operations was well conceived,
but it was doomed to miscarry. The outlaws
who were rding the trail, though they per—
mitted the angers to penetrate the chapparal
unheralded, discovered he threatening danger
in time to send a runner to camp with the tid-
ings and an apical for aid. This they did with
such caution t t the Ran ers suspected nothing
until just before they reac ed a point where the
trail divided, one to the left hand or eastern
division which was known among the Wolves
as the Kiowa. trail, the other one leadi to the
clearing where the Cha rral Wolf had ocated.
At this int the guar s first made their pres-
ence fe t. One of them step d out into full
view, and deliberatel picking is man, brou ht
' him down with a bul et through the brain. ' he
instant he fired, he lea ed into the bushes.
barely avoiding the few iasty shots discharged
at him by the surprised Rangers. Then he took
.0 flight along the winding trail, feeling assured
that the Rangers, thirsting for revenge, would
follow him without hesitation. Nor did he mis-
take for, guided by the sound of his hasty flight,
and believing that he would naturally hasten to
'oin his fellows, the Rangers, led by Dashing

ed, struck into the Kiowa trail without a nio-
mont’s hesitation.

The supposed fugitives, aided by their thor-
ough knowledge of the ground, easily kept
ahead, pausing now and then to fire a shot to
the rear, the more surely to draw the Rangers
astray. These shots were answered, but since
the first rifle was discharged, no blood had been
drawn, since the marksmen were guided by
sound alone.

Thus far the plans of the outlaws succeeded to
perfection, but now came a. change, disastrous
to their hopes. Martin, in his eagerness to save
the encam ment, entered a side trail that inter-
sected the 'owa trail, but miscalculating, came
out just to the rear of the Rangers, cutting them
ofl from their horses. Believing himself drawn
into an ambush, Dashing Ned ave the word
and led a charge to regain their iorses. For a
few minutes the struggle was fierce and deadly.
Though barely a dozen in number, the Wolves
were reckless, and the thick underbrush stood
them in good stead. No solid charge could be
made, and each man had to fight on his own
book. But even here weight of numbers pre-
vailed, and the Rangers cut their way through
to their animals, though, by this time, Dashing
Ned saw his mistake, and was retty well aware
what force be was opposing. e had just given
the word to 5 read out and surround the enemy,
when Fred eyer came up and made a. startling
disclosure. ’

He had passed the guards unseen, and after
narrowly escaping the party led by Martin, he
'follo wed the trail to the clearin and discovered
the village of the Chaparral We 1?. He made all
haste back to report.

. This was enough for Dashin Ned. Rescind-
ing his order, he fell back unt' the fork of the
‘trail was regained; Then, by a simple maneu-

: ver, he turned the flank of the outlaws under
Martin and spreading out so as to hold them in
check, he struck out for the clearing. Fiercely
the Wolves r ed when they saw how they were
tricked, but w en two more of their number had

» paid the penalty of their rashness, the remain—
der learned prudence. They hung closely up-
on the heels of the Ran ers, seeking to inflict all
the loss possible, as we as to delay them until
those at the village could find safety in flight.
Martin dispatched a runner with word of their
failuie then fought his men as well as. he was
able. l3y taking a side trail, the messenger suc-
ceeded in stealing past the Rangers, and though

hotly pursued, reached the deserted clearing,

took one of the horses and bore the evil news to
uality Eph as already detailed.

Hose upon his heels the Rangers entered the
opening, and spreading his men out to hold the
V oives in check, Dashing Ned hastily searched
the village and took possession of the horses left
there for Martin and his men.

“ Scatter the fires and burn the cabins!” or-
dered Conwa , and within five minutes every
.hut in the p was ignited beyond redemp-
tion. .

This accomplished, he sent several men along

the fresh trai to make sure that the flight of the
Wolves was genuine, and not a blind, covering
an ambush.

Martin made a strenuous efiort to skirt the
rclearing and regain the trail ahead of the Ran-
‘ gers, but failed for want of time. Dashing Ned

used only to make sure that the/huts were
airly ablaze, then pressed on to overtake his
scouts. By this prompt movement the Wolves
were again thrown in the rear, and once more
the annoying skirmishing marked the march.

As a. man fell dead by his side, Dashing Ned

resolved to put a stop to.the matter, and quietly
passing the word for half a dozen of his men to
press on until a convenient spot for an ambush
was found, when they were to slip aside from
the trail, he rode on ready for the climax.

Bus ting nothing, the Wolves came on; they

the spot where the eager Rangers lay in
covert. A clear whistle was the first inkling

ought to avert their doom, two—thirds of their
number were shot down from ambush. Dash-
ing Ned and his men charged; taken between
two fires, the Wolves fought gamely, asking
nor receiving quarter. The last to fall, Martin
shot a Ranger through the brain even as death
seized him.

Leaving his dead to be cared for when his
work should be completed, Dashing Ned pressed
along the trail with redoubled ardor, and now
that there was nothing to be apprehended from
the rear, he took the lead in person.

The trail was plain before him, and very
l fresh. His heart beat high at the favorable
l prospect of accomplishing the stern duty he had
! set himself, when—

“ Halt! one step nearer, and I fire!"

Before him, blockin r the narrow trail, mount-
ed upon her spotte mustang, sat Missouri
l Belle, the child of the Chaparral Wolf! And
‘ her revolvu' covered the heart of the Ranger
captain.

 

CHAPTER XIX.
A HUMAN SNAKE.

‘FROM the hour of his leaving San Antonio,
the day after the festivities, there was not an
action, scarce a step of Colonel Overton’s that
was not watched and as carefully noted by a
cunning and adroit spy. Dashing Ned knew
what he was about when he selected Double Dan
for this duty. A better qualified man did not
live. Of that cool courage that carries a man
unflinchineg up to certain death, simply be-
, cause duty calls; shrewd and ready—Witted;
perfectly versed in wood and prairie craft; a
l master of his weapons; as swift and tireless of
‘ foot as a prairie wolf : when Double Dan once
struck a trail, a bloodhound could as easily be
choked ofl’.

“You will take the trail and follow that man
night and day, no matter where he goes or what
he does. Keep a record of everything. Never
, let him slip you until you can either safely
, swear that e is innocent of what we suspect, or
, until you know that he is connected with Equal-
l ity Eph and his gun . If you think you can do
this. good; if you oubt, say so, and I’ll send
Fred Meyer instea .”

The two men were rivals in their claims as
scouts and no better incentive could be offered
than this hint, as the Ranger ca tain well know.
And from that hour Double an was Colonel
Overton’s shadow.

For several days his vigilance was unreward-
ed, but in his heart Double Dan felt that his
hon. would come, and he was right. He saw
the meeting between Overton and Grizzly Paw,
the Lipan sub-chief, though he was unable to
steal near enough to overhear their talk. When
they separated the Indian to collect his braves,
the other to haunt the vicinity of the Lamb
ranch, Double Dan watched Overton closer than
ew r.

And thus it was that while Overton w‘as trail-
ing Minnie Lamb to her fishing—place, he him-
self was shadowed so skillfully that not the
faintest suspicion of mischief entered his mind
or those of his red-skinned accomplices.

Squatting low in the midst of a dense mass of
vines, Double Dan overheard ever word of the
conversation between Overton an his intended
victim, and even witnessed the latter part of
the interview chuckling beneath his breath as
the half-bree was knocked senseless beneath
the water by the desperate maiden. He also
saw her subsequent capture and the rescue of
Overton from drowning, by the Lipans. Nor
did he miss one word of what followed.

When Grizzly Paw strode away, followed by
his braves in charge of Minnie Lamb, and Colo-
nel Overton retraced his steps toward the copse
in which his horse was hidden, Double Dan wrig-
gled out of his snug covert, his puckered and
wrinkled countenance all aglow. And his dou-
ble voice blended curiously as he muttered to
himself:

“ Ef I hain’t struck it rich, I don’t want a
cent! Lawd! ef the boss ondly knowedl would-
n’t he cuss an’ r’ar an’ sling things eendways?
Waal, I should re-mark/ s’pose he did know;
what’d he tell me? ‘ Go fer in sweetness, Dou-
ble Dan, you pizen critter! u’st that ornery
Grizzly Paw—set down on his pizen bucks ontel
they squeal blue murder! Let Turn-over go to
thunder, but fotch me back in lump 0’ sugar 1’
That’s what he would say; bu he ain’t ar, an’
I’m wine to stick to what orders ve got
a’rea . Yar’s for your skelp, Turn-over!
Me ’n my brother is gwin’ fer ye: the twins 0’
Bitter Root is a—b’ilin’ over on your trail! Wake
snakes an’ hunt your hole 1”

Past the lo cabin over the river and up the
valley the h f—breed d, and after him came
Doub 6 Dan, mnninng; sight whenever there
were bushes or other cover convenient for bid-
ing in should the colonel look behind him; when
the ground was open, running by si ht and
hearing. To most men the task wou d have
been a. severe if not an impossible one; but to

 

. _Double Dan such work seemed little more than

lay. The long miles that he ran over that af-
rnoon scarce dampened his leathery skin, and
when the toWn of San Marcos was sighted, and

 

l
I ‘ >
UM ‘ '1 my“; ‘ .

length rewarded b seeing a second

 

he became satisfied that OVerton was bound
thither, Double Dan fell into a. walk, his breath-
ingbgs even and regular as though he had mere—
ivte en taking a stroll for the good of his appe-

As he reached the last bit of cover, and not
caring to expose himself too soon, the spys uat—
ted down, tilled his pipe, and while smdking
summed up his discoveries of that (is. .

“What did he tell the Injun? Take the gal
to the Wolf of the Chaparral—which means
Equality) E ih—an’ you’ll git heaps o’ whisky.
Ef my rot er wasn’t so durned contrair -—ef
we was the kind 0’ twins what kin irave two
waysto once—what a soft snap that’d ’a’ bin!
By jest follerin’ them red—skins—but orders is
orders. The boss said: ‘You foller Tui'n-over,’
an’ I’m bound fer to do it.

“ Then what’d he say! ‘ You take this bill -
duck an’ ive it to the Wolf; likewise the gaI’.’
Ef that on’t show the two pizen critters is
workin’ in cahoot, then I dont want a cent!
You kin kick an’ squirm, Turn-over, but I’ve
goth tlhe ondergrip on yo, an' I never lose my

0 s

“ Then what does he say to the gal—which is
the cap’n’s sweetness? Says he: ‘ I'll see ye
ag’in, honey, in a (-ou 18 of days.’ What does
that pan out? The ga goes to Equality Eph‘s
keer, then ef he wants to see her ag‘in,
over must nat’ally ’tend to call on him. An‘ of
he calls on him, won‘t I be ‘long, too? An’ won’t
that fetch the two trails into one? Good Lord!

es!" And the bass-falsetto laugh of Double

an rung out in high glee, as he once more re-
su med his trailing.

On enterin the town, almost the first object
that met Dou le Dan’s e e was the horse of Over-
ton standing before the ingy inn. Trustingin his
dis 'se, the sp boldly entered the bar-room,
fin ing the land ord alone, white and trembling
from his interview with the colonel. At nearly
the same moment Overton summoned him, and
demanded refreshments in‘a private room. As
the Mexican returned from showing his dreaded
customer to his room, he was accosted by Dan.
Arrain the wretched fellow seemed on the rack.

‘ You know who I be. You hain’t fergot the
warnin‘ the boss give you, nuther. I’m here on
business. Is they any way I kin git a look at
that man you jest tuck to a room? Ef y kin
manidge this, it’ll be one count in yourofhvor
when the settlement comes.”

Afraid to trust his tongue, the landlord led
Double Dan into an ad 'oinmg room, and show-
ed him a small peep-ho e which commanded the
table at which Overton sat. Leaving Dan here,
he hastened to fill the half-breed’s order.

From this 100 i-hole, Dan saw Overton count
over the money e had just received from the
Marvins, and overheard his muttered com-
ments. And it was from his hands that half
in hour later, Colonel Overton received his

orse.

Warming to the hunt Double Dan followed
Overton through the town and over the prairie,
dogging him like a human sleuth-hound.
the sun set and the shades of night began to
deepen, he uickened his ace and gradually
lessened the istance which had divided him and
his quarry, for Overton was now riding over the
prairie where there was no regular trail, and he
could afford to run no risks. '

It was at this moment that Overton awoke
from his deep thinking and cast a keen lance
around him. Thou 11 Double Dan instan y fell
flat upon his face, ie know that he had been
seen. Peering through the grass-blades, the spy
saw Overton wheel and dash toward him.
There was too much at stake to risk an encoun-
ter, and Double Dan crawled rapidly away fr
the trail at right-angles. Fortune still stood is
friend, for he came upon a burrow of the prai-
rie-wolf, and gras ing a “tumble—weed”——ono
of the curiosities o the rairie—he backed into
the hole, though not wit out a suspicion that he
might be disagreeany saluted by the occu ants
of the burrow, perhaps a rattlesnake, and w-
ing himself into a wonderfully small compass.
pulled the tumble-weed over his head. Thus it
was that the close search of the half-breed was
in vain, though more than once he passed with-
in a. dozen feetof his prey, had he only known

it.

Guided by his ear, Double Dan crawled from
his novel refuge and once more took the trail,
now befriended by the gloom. He was not fifty
yards from the little knoll when Overton lit his
signal, and waiting patiently the sp was at
gure'out-
lined against the s y—Iine. As soon as he saw
them settle down, and caught the faint fumes of
burning tobacco he stole siealthil up to the
mound. Lyin fiat u n his stomac , and mak—
ing sure that t e win was in his favor, lest the
horses should scent his presence, he ventured
still closer until not twent feet divided him
from the conspirators, and t eir every word was
distinctly audible.

The emotions with which he listened to the di-
abolical plot which Overton divulged, can readi—
\ly be imagined. His blood tin led with a fierce
jov as he saw how cos it wo d be to turn the
whole game into the c annel of tice,rand in
his eagerness to not miss a we , he narrowly
escaped being discovered by the Whirlwind

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

-L-w v v-v w

whelili, the interview over, the Kiowa left the
hue .

Forced to wait until the ram was beyond
ear-shot, Double Dan allowed verton to get
quite a httle start of him, but soon regained the
lost distance. He was congratulating himself
I n the complete success which had rewarded

efforts, when Overton abruptly drew rein, a
bright flash lit up the gloom, and with the sharp
report the half-breed fell from his horse. Taken
so completely by surprise, Double Dan stood

amazed for near a minute. He saw a man,

5 ring upon Overton, and tear 0 on his clothes.

t this a flood of light filled his rain, and with
a loud yell he sprun toward the assassin.
With a yell of alarm t a fellow left his victim
and tied at top speed through the night.

CHAPTER XX.
HONOR FOR LOVE.

“ HALT! or I fire! I command this trail, and
no man passes here without my permission !"

A ve queen of the wild wood looked Mis-
souri Be e as she uttered these words, clear and
imperious Never had she looked thorou h-
ly, so intoxicatineg beautiful as hen. er
eyes were twin stars, her face pale, save where
two brilliant spots of scarlet marked her cheeks;

r whole being was full of life and fire.

rained in with the dense een foliage and
brown. drooping boughs, she ormed a rare ic~
ture with her bright, close-fitting dress, ier
gleaming weapOns, her spotted mustang, and
her deflant demeanor. Seated astride in the
Mexican fashion, with both arms outstretched
and a cocked revolver in each hand, hcr superb,
finely-developed figure was thoroughly display
ed. The “ amt-mustang,” too, seemed to ful y
enter into t e spirit of the scene, for it stood as
firm and motionless as a rock, though its eyes
iiholpe brightly from beneath its shaggy fore-
0c

 

Dashing Ned drew rein with a cry, not of
alarm but of surprise the most profound. And,
his gaze riveted upon that fair face, he sat his
horse like one petrified.

“ The p’izen critters ’ll git clean off, boss!” ut-
tered Fred Meyer, in his eagerness. “Shell I
cl'ar the track!”

As he spoke the reckless old Ran r filing for-
ward his rifle, though it may be oubted whe-
ther or no he would have at his suggestion in-
to operation even if left a one, wrou ht up as
his worst passions had been. But t 6 strong
hand of Dashing Ned grasped the rifle-barrel
and with the same movement wrested it from
the Ranger’s grasp and hurh d the weapon into
the bushes. If nothing else Meyer’s words were
of service in arousing the captain.

“Isolai Great heavens! what brings you
here?"

Was it acting? was Missouri Belle simply car-
r ing out the plan she had confided to her fa—
t er a few minutes before? Or was the white
shade that chased the roses from her cheek be—
ysud her control? What meant that wild,

nted look that filled her eyes?

With a low cry she wheeled her mustang and
disappeared amid the timber. As though
moved by the same impulse Dashing Ned urged
his horse forward, while the Rangers pressed
close upon his heels. On at a reckless speed un-
til the dense undergrowth grew thinner, finally
giving place to a. long. narrow opening that
apparently extended for miles both east and
w

es

As he broke through the brush. Dashing Ned,
guided h his ear saw Missouri Belle riding at
full spee down this natural race—course. head-
ing toward the east. A single glance showed
him that the trail of the retreating Wolves led
directly across the o ding. For a. brief space
he healtated. Duty ade iim ursue the out-
laws; but his heart opposed. ove and a Sick-
ening doubt urged him to overtake the fair fugi-
tive' and love conquered. '

“ ait here for me,” he said, turning to his
lieutenant and forcing himself to speak deliber-
ately lest he should betray his great agitation.
“ That woman may have important information.
I can capture her in a few minutes. Then we
will run these wolves down.”

Without awaiting the reply, Dashing Ned
gm his horse free rein and sped after the spot-

d mustang, who was hearing its mistrem
swiftly toward the morning sun. One back-
ward glance the fugitive cast, then devoted her
every energy and art to maintain her vantage-
ground. And right nobly the little mustang re-
warded her efforts. Swift and hardy, it scarce
seemed to feel the burden it here, but brushed
the dewdrops from the bending blades of grass
With the long, low leaps of a hard-pressed ante-

lo

g‘ashinf Ned used his spurs freely, .but his
horse ha. been ridden long and hard, and there
was not its wonted elasticity in its movements.
A half-curse, half— can parted the Ranger‘s
lips as he saw that t e paint-musta ng was fairly
holding its own.

His brain was in a wild confusion. He could
scarcerbeheye his eyes. And once he pinched
his am until the blood flowed, to convince him-
self that he was not dreamin .

, A cold perspiration started from every pore
u below fill the Spotted mustang was slowly

 

15

 

Equality, :Eph.

 

but surely leaving him behind. He drew a
)istol and half-leveled it, thinking to shoot the
mm, but dared not trust his mustang’s nerves.

And then, at such speed, a fall from the saddle
mi "ht well prove fatal to the woman.

i

 

,, v. ._ __.., _ ..._ .__.....c- . ,mm _._._._._ ._ q.

“ Yes; Iam the daughter of the man whom
you call the Chaparral Wolf. It was to «it at
the secret of your plans against him that made
your acquaintance. New go—but remember-
that I am not wholly to blame. I never knew

he chose had covered full two miles, when a mother’s care‘ and fafier—vou can "ucss what
8 u b

the fugitive turned her mustang toward the
southern timber. Dashing Ned took instant ad-

I

was.”
love you, even as his child.

his trainin

“ Isola, Marry

vantage of the angle, gaining several rods by i me, and I will take you far away from this.

the change.
but instead of entering the timber she drew
rein beneath a low spreading live-oak tree and
cool] faced her pursuer.

“ cod-morning, Captain Conway! You ap-
pear to be in a hurry.’

Dashing Ned wrcnched up his horse confused
and abashed at this cool salutation. There was
no look of terror now in those lustrous eyes, and
the fair skin was only soft] suffused, while a
pleasant smile played around he red-ripe mouth.

“lsola, what does this mean? why are you
here!” he faltered, coming closer.

“Is not the prairie free for me as you, Ca
tain Conway? Though from the manner in
which you and your rough bears liuntod me, I
could almost doubt the fact. Do you alwa 5
take a 'oko so seriously? Or did you inista e
me for t e Chaparral Wolf?”

“What could we think! That man and his
murderous gang had but a few minutes before
passed over that very trail. I cannot understand
low you escaped meeting them. I can’t make
out how you came here; it is all a umlc!”

“There are many enigmas in this world, and
I am one of them. You have never understood
me, from the ver first. You believed me every-
thing but what was—and am God help me!
Had you only known—l Bah! what matter! It
is all in a lifetime.” And the young woman
laughed; but there was far more of bitterness
than merriment in the pea].

“ I believed you all that was pure and good; I
believe so still. 'I will always believe so. I
loved you the first time we met, and that
love has grown stronger and firmer every day
and every hour since. You can say nothing
that can alter that love, Isola, let the mystery
which surrounds on, take its birth from what
it will. I only as (—”

“Ask nothing, Edward, for I have nothing to
give you. I have been false to you from the
irst. I had a part given me to play, and I

layed it, caring little how you might sufi‘cr
rom it. Stop! something is urging me to tell
the whole truth now, and I min-it obey. You
must listen to me; I ask it by the love you swore
to i'ie.‘

“I will listen, Isola," said Conway, quietly.
“But if you are testing the truth of my love,
you are simply wasting time.”

“ No more! you are eaping coals of fire upon
my head! Bo still—let me say my say while I
can command myself -' I said that I had played
you false from our first meeting, and I meant it.
I did not like the art, but I was acting under
orders from one W cm I could not disobey. You
remember, you rescued me from two rufiians in
San Antonio, one night. I was playing a part,
then. That was a farce by whic I was to make
your acquaintance an excite your interest at
the same time. I told you I was Spanish. That
in mother was dead, my father an invalid. I
al owed you to accom ny me home. You call-
cd again and again. on learned to love pie—-
or what you believed me to be; and I——”

“ Stop, Isolal” cried Dashing Ned, appeal-
ingly. “Don’t say that—don’t say you were
playing a part, than l" ,

“ I must, ” responded the young woman, avert-
ing her head. “I lied when I said that your
love was returned.”

“ But why'! if you did not love me, wh did
you lead me on to hope for such happiness Or
since you did, why not let me dream on? thy
awaken me now?”

“Because I have grown sick of such constant
deceit. No—I will be perfectly truthful with
you now. That was not tiic wLole reason. Since
then—I have learned what it is to love. I can
realize now the wrong I did you, and as the only
amends I can make, I o 11 our eyes to the
truth. You do not ask w w I ove, and I thank
you. It would ain me to refuse you anything
more, and I could not tell you his name.”

“ I can guess, Isola. I have not forgotten that
night at the Golden Harvest. You were masked,
pulp I” knew your voice too thoroughly to mis-

a 'e.

“gou knew—and you treated me as a stran-
ger

“Was it so strange! I loved you; and so I
trusted you. I felt sure that you would explain
all in ood time.” y
“E ward Conwa , {311 are fortunate! Had
I known you as we Lore—but never mind.
The ast is past.” ‘

“ Sut may it not be recalled, Isola? You have
known this Mark Bird but a few days. He can
never love you as ardentl as I. Give me
another chance. I can—I Will win your love, if
, I only have—”

“No, Edward; there is still another bar I
ma love but that is all. I could never disgrace
an ones man by wedding him. I—the out-
law’s daughter!"

“1801a! '

 

Straight on dashed Missouri Belle; 2 country—” i

“I cannot desert my father," was the low, "
firm reply. L
“ Then I will disband my men and join him. 2

You are all the world to me. I cannot give you I

up, Isola."

“You would do this— on!” {altered the girl.

“ And gladly—so that have you .’ Iwill—"

“ No on must not. I am not worthy. And
then—~I ove him. You must try and forget me.
ThereI are others—"

The sounds of hoav ilrin came to their em
from a distance. Das iing ed started like one
awaking from a dream. He felt that his men
had been drawn into an ambush! -

CHAPTER XXI.
DOUBLE DAN IN BUSINESS.

IN those first moments Double Dan was filled
witha hatred as bloodthirsty and fierce as it»
was short lived. He considered Colonel Over—-
ton as his own game, and looked upon the in-
terference of the wayside assassin as a personal
injury to himself. I‘hus, when he uttered his
yell and leaped forward, wea )on in hand the
fallen man’s nearest friend con (1 not have been
more thoroughly resolved to avenge his assas—
sination than was the man who had for day!
been weaving a halter for his neck.

The assassin fled at full speed, and seemed
winged by fear, but there was one upon his
truck whose muscles of steel had more than
once worn out stanch horses. Foot by foot the
assassin was overhauled. A dozen times had
Double Dan raised his revolver to end the chase
by a shot, but as often had he hesitated. He
kliliew not who might be lurking within our-
s ot. -

“ They’s more’n one way 0' killin’ a out!” he-
muttered, as be shifted his grasp from the butt
to the barrel of his heavy revolver, then hurled
the weapon full at the flying figure with all the
force of his sinew arm. ‘

Stricken fairly )etween the shoulders the fol-
low plunged heavily forward upon his head. and
the next moment Double Dan alighted upon his
back, both hands closing like a vise upon his
throat.

There was little danger of resistance, as Double
Dan was not slow to perceive. What with the
blow' the solid fall upon his head, and the brief
choking, the assassin was senseless: two-thirds
dead. When convinced of this, Double Dim
slip ed off from the body, turning it over so
the. the face became visible. This wore a mask
of blood and dirt, which the spy lost no tinre in
wiping away, using a handful of grass. Then,
stooping low over the body, Double Dan struck
a match and held it close to the face.

“ Waal, I bcr-durncd!" he ejaculated, starting
back in genuine amazement. “Ef that don’t
git me! who’d ’a’ thunk it! the p’izen cuss!”

Fairllys overcome by the discovery he had
made, ouble Dan drew back, scratching his
head as though in a quandary. Thi however,
did not last long. Therewae too muc upon his ,
hands for him to waste any time. ‘

He bent over the bod once more, this time to
make sure that, thong alive; his prize would
not be liable to recover his senses too soon. Sat~.
isfied with his examination, Double Dim arose
and trotted rapidly along the back trail until
he reached the spot where Colonel Overton had
fallen. His horse was gone, but the half-breed
still lay as he had dropped from the saddle.
The starlight was strong enough for Double Dan
to distin ish the blood that flowed over the
half-bree ’s face, and at first lance he believed
Overton had been shot throng i the brain. but a
hasty examination proved otherwise. The
the will of the assassin had been good, his
had failed, either from nervousness or some
movement of his intended victim, and the ball

had merely tore its way through the half-breed’s l

scalp, above his tom le.
Double Dan chuck ed (grimly as he discovued
this. Though he hate Overton with all his

heart, he would have grieved deeply at his death ‘

aprovided another hand than his own dealt the -
ow.

For the second time Double Dan squatted'
down beside a senseless bod , and vigorously?
scratched his bullet-head. usiness was rush-g.
ing. His hands were so full that he hardly:
knew which way to turn first. More than ever'
did he wish that he and his “twin-brother"b
were not such inseparable companions. If ho‘
could only be in two places at onceh!

He ceased irritating his scalp, and a broad
smile 'adually filled out the wrinkles of his
face. he problem was solvedi '

Spginging to his feet Double Dan ran swiftly
to t s twhe_re he had left the woulddbe assas- ‘
sin, an toned to carry out the peculiar
scheme he had formed. Li hting a couple of
matches be closely scrutinize his mpg-v0 from
headtofoot. Hegraspedoneof the gem

.

/

«5:.

, {6

Beadle’s Dime library.

 

wr-

 

1.1 buttons with which the fellow’s jacket was
profusely studded and tore it loose, together
with a shred of clo b. He picked up the batter-
ed but that la near, and drew the long knife
from its slieat Bearing these in his hand he
ran back to where Overton lay. The button he
forced into the half-breed'fl clenched hand. The
bet he placed beside him; the knife he dropped
a few feet awe .

“Ef that don’t do the business, then I don’t
want a cent!” and his double voice squeaked and
rumbled in high glee. “ When he wakes up, fust

. thing he’ll see them things. He’ll know whose

“steady

they was. He’ll o fer to git 3 mar”, an’ right
thdr’s whar I’ll pick up the trai agin. Good
Lawdl cf any p‘izen critter picks up ouble Dan
for a fool, he’s goin’ to git left, sure !”

Picking up Overtcn’s hat, Double Dan hasten-
ed back to his other charge, eager to finish that

rt of the job. He pulled the hat firmly upon
the man’s head then closely searched his pock-
ets. In one of these he found the well—filled
pocket-book so recently taken from Overton, to-
gether with several papers which had evident]
come from the same source. Assuring himse f
that the money was within, Double Dan thrust
1.1] into his breast.

“Now of the. p‘izen critter’d only git up an‘
mosey home, I’d be all right. It‘d spile all of
hI‘urn-over was to wake up fast an’ find him

ere.”

Double Dan drew a small flask from his (pock-
at and shook it regretfully. Evidentlyhe ee -
ed it a shame to waste good liquor on such an
evil subject. And such a course had its draw-
backs, besides.

“He ain’t quite a fool. He’d want to know
whar the lickei' come from. Good andl the
very thin l He’ll be too bad skeered to think
0’ lookin’ ger Turn-over; I’ll do it 1”

Double Dan, near] choking with men-imam;
 a quantity 0 wder into the hollow of

ishand and proce ed to make a “spit—ball ”
about the size of an egg. Into this be inserted
a bit of unk, placing the whole in the right
hand of t e senseless assassin. Striking a match
he ignited the punk, then hastily withdrew a
few yards, lying down in the tall grass.

He was not kept long in sus rise. The damp-
ened powder caught fire and gan spitting and
sputtering at a eat rate. The assassin stirred
uneasily as the re be an to scorch him, and as
the dryer powder insi e the ball ex loded with
a vivid light, he sprung erect wit a yell of
mingled pain and terror. As Double Dan had
foreseen, he was too eatly confused to realize
what had occurred, ut, guided by instinct, he
took to his heels in blind terror, running away

' from he knew not what.

“Ef I ain’t too p’izen smart to live!” gasped
Double Dan, almost suflocated with laughter.
“Chain-lightnin’ couldn’t fans that critter! I
reckon he thought he’d woke up in brimstone—
land, sure enough!”

But Double Dan‘s work was not yet finished.
He drew his belt a notch tighter, and with one
keen glance at the ole-star, started in a swift,
run across t e rairie. Despite the long
distance he had alrea y traveled upon foot since
eating or slee ing, the scout ran as fresh and
strongl as t ough fatigue was unknown to
him. Igor hour after hour he maintained his

co never faltering, not once pausing for
genial. The man was one mass of tirelem
He had never met his equal, and to
this day the curious c9. gather stories of his
marvelous fleetness of cot and matchless en-
durance amon the old stagers of the South-
west. Double anisno fanc sketch.

The night was far spent w on Double Dan’s
race was ended. He entered a dense clump of
umber and undergrowth, pausing near its cen-
ter, to utter a Ipeculiar, long-drawn and quaver-
ingwhistle. e listened for a reply, but none
calne. Twice he re ated the 31' al, then, with
an oxelamation of isgust, he a vanced to what
appeared to be a pile of brush and vines. Pull-
inga portion of the latter aside, he opened a
small, stout door and entered a low cunningly-
concealed cabin. Strikingoa mate he peered
hround him. The cabin re traces of recent
oocu tiou. The light and Double Dan
stoodfihlnkin . His disap ' tment was great.
‘It was important that he s ould meet the owner

muscle.

- of this secret cabin, yet he had scant time to

lose.
“ Mebbe he’ll be in time, y'lt,” he muttered.
“ I’ll lay down an’ ketch a couple or two winks

' _ on the chaince.”


If T
Li.


"if."

11 .
a" ,1

‘ do
” as before, withou any

 

Carlin up in a ile of dried grass and leaves,
*Ifouble an fell eep almost immediately. He
sod the rare facul of awakin at just
6 minute he had determ ned upon be orehand,
nor was this case an exception. Day was just
when he awoke. He was still alone.
outside and whistled, but,
use. n
the cabin, he took down a it of 'erked meat
from a store that hung from the ra tors and be-

eating.
“ I could only write l” he muttered, anx-

Jiocau ouslystcp

‘5 Bu ‘Doubh Dan was not one long to despair

'Alncualahadp th htcametohisaid:
'Grinnin with efiht he kdown a buck-skin
' thawingan the and spread it out

; .‘  1
mi 41.4...“ A. “Mil-Ln“

 

before him. Then, laying in a stock of Cinders
from the rude fireplace, he began painting his
re rt.
irst he drew what was intended for a man,
but in a miraculously distorted position. Just
above this was drawn a bird’s head, with a.
snake in its mouth. To the right was a smaller
figure with big eyes, a wonderful head of hair,
and flowing skirts.
With his head upon one side, Double Dan eyed
his work with complacent approval.
“It’s clear as mud, ef I do say it!
man could see that that izen critter is turnin’
a summerset, an’ thar’s urn-over’s totem—"
He paused abruptly and raised his eyes. The
door was pushed partly open, and a man’s head
entered. It was the face and head of Colonel
Overton, the half-breed!
CHAPTER XXII.
“TURN—OVER, TB'E HALF-BREED."
THERE were few names better known through-
out Texas than that of Colonel Overton, taking
it through its various chan es. His fame—or
notoriety—was common to t e whole vast re-
gion west of the Mississippi river. A hundred
men had sworn his death at as many different
times, and as many attempts had been made to
keep these oaths. But Satan seemedto befriend
his own, and at the date of this story the bor-
der scourge was still alive and pursuing his ca-
reer of crime and cruelty. His name and some
of his deeds have found a place in a dozen or
more books of Western travel, but as yet no
perfect record of his life has been given. Part-
y as a curiosity of reckless daring and crime,
artly because he has layed a prominent part
in this hasty record, I ve collected the main
points of his eventful career, and transcribed
them here, simply promising that what follows
is history, and can be substantiated, if neces-

sary.

About the year 1815, a Spanish or Mexican
trader settled among the Kiowas, at the foot of
the Green Mountains. He took a squaw from
his adopted tribe, and by her had one child, the
subject of this sketch. Not satisfied with the
le 'timate profits of his profession, this trader—
w ose name is lost—indulged largely in horse-
stealing and even less harmless ursuits, more
than once leading a fora into t e settlements
of the province of Santa e; and it was durin
one of these raids that he was captured and
hung. The Kiowas took possession of his pro—
perty, which was considerable, but. from some
cause now unknown, drove away his squaw and
child. Two or three years later she turned up
as the squaw of a Canadian voya our, named
Baptiste Lajoie. The young half-sreed grew
up stout and of a noble resence; but the black
drop was in his heart. 0 became an adept in
the use of weapons and trappers’ implements,
and young as he was, was known far and wide
for his strength, activit and skill in every ath-
letic sport, as well as or his remarkable pro—
ficiency in prairie lore.

Lajoie, during one of his trapping expeditions,
found a rich lacer of field, and in an unlucky
hour resolve to take is adopted son with him
to St. Louis to taste of the leasures and dissi-
pations of civilized life. he youth seemed
overgog'ed, and eager) drank in the trap er's
flori escriptions; an with them came a (Kirk,
deadly resolve, which was afterward carried out.
Baptiste Lajoie never reached St. Louis, but his
ado ted son did, and that son was loaded down
wit gold.

For a few weeks the half-breed drank his fill
of low, brutish dissipation: but then a curious
freak took possession of his mind. He resolved
to play the part of agentleman; and to do this
properly, he resolve to go to school! Repre-
sen ing himself as the son of a Cuban planter,
he entered a private school, and evincing a
wonderful aptitude for learning, soon caught 11
with and passed his companions. During al
this time—nearly two years—his conduct in and
out of hours would have borne the closest sem-
tiny. He was a model of uprightnesa and pro-
priety.

Having finished his course of training, the
half-breed made his debut in socie as the only
son and heir of a. Spanish ee. Darkly
grandly handsome, he pla ed part well, an
was the lion of the year. e became the leader
of a certain fast set, and easil kept his purse
well sup lied, thanks to his skil in manipulat-
ing car and dice. He won the heart of a
wealthy younfillady, and the weddinfida was
set. But on at day the “Spanish on ’was
a fugitive from justice. He had been detected
in cheating at cards, and when accused, buried
his knife in the unfortunate man’s heart. The
friends of the murdered man attempted his ar-
rest, but with knife and pistol he foiled tnem,
leaping through the.second-story window, leav-
ing three dead men behind him. Strange to
say, he escaped without a scratch, and though
he was hunted hotly by the officers of justice,
he gave them the shp and took to the plains to
avoid punishment.

From that day on, his career was one of un-
blushing trench and crime. Tired of civil-
ized life, he bong t a stock of “notions” and

set u as an Indian trader. Again w of
this. lived on indolent life with mm

A blind ‘

 

tolerated by them because of his services as an
interpreter during their burterings with the
whites. But he 0 ianged from tribe to tribe so
often that the traders dubbed him “ Turn-over,”
which, by a natural transition, became Over—
turn, then Overton; he himself added the title
of colonel, when the English Fur Company,
from Canada, employed him as their agent at
high Wages. Here again Turn—over played a
double part, cheating both his eniplo ers and
the Indians with whom he traded c caring a
large fortune before his doubledealing was
found out. He made many bitter enemies
among the Indians whom he had defrauded,
and many attempts were made on his life. Om
and all of these were foiled. Upon three of

these occasions he killed his attempted assassigl .

and to guard against the fury and vengeance
their kindred, he was forced to enlist and main-
taina strong band of men who accompanied
him eve Where.

When irn-over was discharged and super-
seded by the Fur Company, he made off with his
spoils, and tired of the never-ceasing vigilanm
necessary to guard against death, he left the
plains for New Orleans, where he soon became
celebrated as Colonel Ovei'ton.

His career here was an exaggerated repetition
of his life in St. Louis, but he was more careful
to keep without the clutches of the law. He
paid court to the heiress of one of the richest
estates in Louisiana, and married herwithin the

ear. Possessed now of almost unlimited wealth,

verton displayed a boundless extravagance
that made his name a wonder throughout the
entire land, and he and his beautiful bride be-
came one of the principal attractions of the
Crescent City.

Three months later he was seen and recog-
nized by a cousin of the man whom he had slain
at the card—table in St. Louis, and promptly ar-
rested. While lying in prison awaiting a requi-
sition from the Governor of Missouri, Overtor
once more escaped his merited doom. The rela-
tives of his wife were very proud and felt the
impendin disgrace keenly. Satisfied that, if
taken to t. Louis, Overton would most assured-
] be found guilty—for he freely confessed to
t em that the charge was true—they lavished
their old with an unsparing hand. and bribing
the o cials, succeeded in gettin Overton clear
of the prison walls. But this id not content
them. thile he lived, disgrace would stare
them in the face at every turn. Better that he
should die; and so it was decided.

Overton was placed in a boat, and told that a
vessel was waitin r for him, in which he was to
seek safety on t e Continent until the storm
blew over. The night w dark and stormy
when the little skiff left the wharf, ed by
the father and brother of the oung wig. Over-
ton suspected nothing untth ebrother dro pod
his car and shot him through the breast. en
he made a desperate struggle for life, but the
odds were too great, unarmed he was. Three
times was he shot, and stabbed as often; then
the boat was upset by the furious struggle, and
all three were precipitated into the angry wa—
ters. Overton mana ed to regain the overturn—
ed skiff, and lashed himself fast, then he swoon-
ed away.

It was a week later when he returned to life.
He had drifted far from land in the furious gale
and was picked 1}?) by a Spanish trader bound
for Galveston. e was landed at that port and
left at a sailors’ lodging-house, without a cent of
mone . When he recovered sufficiently, he
paid is host by tending bar, until he was out of
debt. While thus engaged he formed the ac-
gduaintance of several rofessed traders with the

exicans and had ttle difficulty in gaining
their confidence.

He had a run of luck at the gaming-tables,
and joined the traders as an “2311211 partner.
lYVith ab train .of giggle iEthey Etsath for Chihua-

ua. isposm o e , e companya
ed in theE' real com; as land pimteg:
hey captured two silver convoys, and com—
mitted so many atrocities that the country soon
became too hot for them. By mutua. agree-
ment they disbanded and divided their spoils.
Each one was to seek safety in his own way.
Overton’s course was a. characteristic one. Hid-
ing his plunder he sou ht out the chief of the
forces sent out ainst em, and offered to sur-

render his co es on condition that hewas par-
donedhis offenses. Thistreacherous ro ‘ ‘ was
promptly accepted. Overton faith v carried. -
out his part of the programme, and com-
placently witnessing the death bar the rrote
ofhis late comrades in Mexico, 9 ca ed his

lunder to Texas. heading for Santa Fe, he
all in with a company of traders with whom he

had had dealings in the past. Drinking freely
he told his story without any reservation. That
night the traders robbed him of horse, mules,
lunder and all, leaving him naked and weapon-

ess upon the prairie, as they believed, dead.

But. fate had a still more horrible death in,
stroe for him He recovered his senses, and for
three days crawled over the ‘ prairie upon ‘his
hands and knees, his only food bein grass and
such insects and reptiles as he coul catch. At
the end of that time he was found by a party of
' 110 u back to fe. He ro—

Indians, him
paidthen‘ivbyrunning ofltheirstook-inthe Edit! I

 

 

 

l

 

 

 

 

  

.;,[

Equality Eph. r

 

‘.=—.______._..~... r ..  n. .
CHAPTER XXIII.
A GORDON or FIRE.

THE favoring breeze bore to their ears the
sounds that told so much, and, startled, the out-
iaw’s daughter and the Ranger captain for al—
most the first time since their peculiarinterview
began, looked each other squarely in the face.
Missouri Belle’s face flushed scarlet, then faded
to an ashy paleness, but her clear eyes never
faltered nor changed expression.

“Your friends and my friends are fighting.”
the said, in a rapid, decisive tone. “ I can see
what your sus )icions are. You believe that I
ilecoyed you ither so that your men might
prove an easier prey. Let it go at that. It will
make it all the easier for you to forget that
such a person cverlived as I. (lo! your men are
hard pressed; they need vour strong arm. (lo,
Edward Conway; and God’s blessing go with
you!”

There was an intense earnestness in her voice
that thrilled through Dashing Ned’s every fiber,
and half mad with strongly contiictin *passions,
he started forward with outstretchet arms as
though to clasp the blessing to his heart. But
Missouri Belle drew back with an imperious ges—
are.
“ No—the past is dead. If ever we meet again,
it must be as strangers. Gol your men need
you. 1 charge you by the love you once bore
me, not to attempt to follow me. That would
)nly bring sorrow to us both. G0! and pray
Heaven that we may never meet awain i”

As she spoke, Missouri Belle touc led her mus-
tang sharply with the smr, and plunged into
the timber. Dashing Ded started as in pursuit,
but at the second leap he reincd in his horse.
Once more the fresh breeze bore to his ears
the reports of firearms, and this sound recalle 1
him to a sense of his duty. With an impatient

esture be brushed one hand across his eyes as

hough to banish the weird spell that had bound
him, then turned his horse and thundered down
toward the spot from whence the rcportsof fire«
arms proceet ed.

As already stated, when Dashin Ned started
in ursuit of the irl whom he ha known 0111
as sola Alvarez, is left his nienlin char {0 of his
lieutenant, John Sullivan. A stouter- carted,
braver man never lived than this same “ Bull-
dog Jack. He never knew the meaning of the
word fear, as applied to himself. Like the ani-
mal after whom he was named, when Sullivan
closed with an enemy, it was a death-grapple.
But this blind ferocity was his sole qualification
for' command. It rendered him a favorite with
lhe hard-flghtinr Texans, but on this occasion,
3t least, it was t e cause of a severe misfortune,
to say no more.

Their fiercest passions aroused by the loss of
several v'ood men, and by the taste of blood the
flyin s irmish had given them, the Rangers
watc ed the chase with anything but pleasant
sensations. They knew that this delay was un-
wise; that it might be the. means of defeatin
the purpose to which they had devoted severa
months of arduous work. With over moment
the Chaparral Wolf and his men were improvin
their advantage. It was hard, this enforce<
idleness,l when one bold stroke might insure them
the longed-for triumph.

Among those who chafcd most was Fred
Meyer, the scout. He, like many another then
)resent, had good cause for hating the Wolves.
less than one month previous, his younger
brother, a fine, open-licartedlad, had been found
hanging from a tree, dead. From the “Sign”
around, there was little doubt as to who were
his murderers. And beside the corpse. Fred
Meyer swore a solemn oath to never know rest
until he had exacted a heavy price for that
young life.

For a few minutes he chafed in silence, but
then, as he read the ill-dis ruiscd impatience of
thelieutenaut, be addressec Sullivan:

” The cap’n didn’t say nothin’ ag’inst sending
out scouts, lettenant. They’s no knowin’ what
them slippery imps may be up to. Better let me
take a few 0’ the boys an’ go on ahead. We
kin blaze the trail so you won't lose any time
when ‘the boss comes back, but kin come up
hotrfoot.” ,

Sullivan looked doubtingly at the scout. A
good follower, he was no leader, and scarcely
able to form a judgment of his own. Meyer
knew this. and made the most of the knowl»
edge. Taking the consent for granted, he added:

‘I’ll jest take hafe a-dozen o’ the boys, in
case we run upon the imps. so we kin hold ’em
ante] you kin come up. 'We’ll leave the trail
plain enough for you. Ef the boss hadn’t bin
Eliseo}; n hum-y, he’d told us to do jest this

in . ~

‘Wfiile he was speaking Me er selected his
men, nine 1n ‘number, one of w 0111 he chose to
act as scout in conjunction with himself, and
fonowed by the eight men, leading the two
scouts’ horses, the ittle arty struck ra idly
across the Opening upon t a trail of the hap—
aryai Wolves.

Though so ardent in the chase, Meyer was not
a man to neglect all caution, and as they drew
Within gun—Shot of the timber, he bade the
horsemen draw rein, advancing with his broth—
er scout to “sure that no ambush was
aimed .to‘ commune point where the trail en-

4.

 

. .l i. .,

 

 

 
   

 

1'7

tered the dense undergrowth. The spot was a l law had one trusty friend in the company—he

favorable one for such a purpose, and a few
determined men could have inflicted a heavy
l )8!" upon any unsuspecting enemy.

With less caution than a perfectly cool scout
would have displayed, Meyer assul'cd himself
that the timber was untenanted save by himself
and his comrade. He had scarcely expected
otherwise, as the spot was too favorable for an
ambush, not to be looked upon with suspicion
by a pursuer, and he also felt that Equality
Eph was shrewd enough to know this as well as

“He knowed we’d not pass by without fust
takin’ a scout, an’ be putt in his best licks to
gain ground," muttered Meyer, disgiistcdly, as
he returned to the edge of the opening and sig—
naled he: men to advance. “"l‘ain‘t no ways
likely he’s goin' to stop this side o7 the hole he's
aimin‘ fer. He‘ll count on our s‘archin’ the
bresh closely; un‘, wuss luck! we‘ve got to do it,
too!"

The case was one that would have )rovoked a
less interested person than Meyer. f he were
to proceed according to the rules of good lscout—
ing, by first fcclin r the ground before passing
over it, there was t 10 risk of losing their game
altogether by being outpaced. 0n the contrary,
by pressing ahead without due regard to pru—
dence, there was the probability of running into
an ambush, when their over—haste might well
prove fatal.

Thus buffeted first by his longing for revenge,
then by his experience us'a scout, Meyer event-
ually lost his head and followed a medium
course; too fast for a thorough feeling of the
trail, too slow for the purpose of overtaking the
enemy supposing they had pressed forward
without an y delay.

The trai was narrow and winding. But a
single horseman or two footmen could pass com-
fortably at a time. Meyer led the way, the
other Rangers being strung out in a long line.
At a point where the trail made a sudden bond
to the east and passed through a miniature
gladeadozen yards in diameter, the trap was
sprung upon them. '

Good judgment had been displayed in select-
ing the point for, as well as in forming the am-
buscade. The trail led through the little gladc,
where the soil was such that a single struggling
footprint would have been instantly detected.
But Equality Eph had pressed on past this spot,
sending his men into the bushes several rods
further on, with orders to cautiously fall back
and surround the little v'lade.

Fred Meyer and his )l'other scout were per-
mitted to pass by, in order to bring the greatest
possible number of men into the toils. Then the
signal was given. A dozen rifles covered the
five men whose line filled the little glade, and at
the word a deadly volley was discharged that
laid men and horses dead 11 on the blood-stain-
ed rouud. Then with wi d, triumphant yells
the Volves broke cover, hoping to carry all be-
fore them by one decisive effort.

In that terrible moment, when one—half of
their number were dead, and tho underbrush
seemed fairly alive with their relentless foemen,
the surviving Rangers noblv sustained their
well-won reputation of bar fighters. There
was never a thought of flight. With knife and
pistol they met the onset, too closely pressed to
use their rifles. With the roar of an angrYbull,
Meyer turned and blindly charged 11 on his ene-
mies. One minute later he lav dem beside his
comrades; but not unavenged. He had sent
three Wolves before him.

It would be hard to say which party had been
the most astonished. The outlaws found they
had sprun r their cunning trap, not upon the en-
tire body, ut upon the advance guard, as they
supposed. And knowin that the other Rau-
gers could not be far behind, knowing too tliata
second surprise would be im u’issible, they has—
tened from the spot, each in is own way not
daring to encounter the Rangers on anything
like equal terms. ,

Lieutenant Sullivan heard the firing and at
once dashed to the rescue, reaching the scene of
death )1) less than five minutes later. Just as
they entered the glude, one of the outlaws, who
had been left for dead, had recovered sufficient:-
ly to bobble awa ; but he was seen just as he
entered the bus es, and a score of rifle-halls
were sent after him.

This was the second firing which Dashing Ned
heard, the moment after Missouri Belle con—
tinued her flight.

Half an hour’s hard riding brought him to the
scene of death. The dead alone occupied the
little glade. And as Dashing Ned gazed upon
the mutilated bodies, he felt that onlv for his
insane love, these men might not have died.

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE BLACK SWAMP REFUGE.
0N leaving Dashing Ned, the outlaw’s daugh-
ter rode hard and lon , not as though she fear—
ed pursuit, but with t a air of one who sou rht
to ride away from her own disagreea le

 

’ thoughts.

It was as she had. confessed. Her acquaint-
ance with the young captain of Rangers had
been planned with an e e to one end; the wel-
fare of the band led by fiquality Eph. The out-

l e); pcctcd.

l tie difllcnlty in cxtructin " all his sccrcts.

 

whom the rcudor has met as J amcs Brown—but
Dashing Ned was one who let his plans develop
themselves rather than one of those who freely
air thci r arrangements beforehand, and Brown
was not always able to learn of an intended
search in time to warn his real friends. To
guard against this danger the outlaw chief call-
ed his child’s beauty and address into play.
Dashing Ned made an easier captive than was
.llis lovowas like his own heart, wide I
and unsuspicious, and Missouri Belle found lit. ‘ ,
And i.
the blind devotion of the nndsomo Ranger was . .
beginning to undermine the defenses of her ‘
hcart,whcn, on the day of the festival, as stated,
sho met Mark Bird for the first time, when the
cousins saved her life; for the stripling dressed

in Mexican clothes whom they rescued from
the infuriated grizzly was none other than Mis- ,
souri Belle. She it was that redo the gallant
gray stood to victory, her own ct charger, that
would obey no other voice or and; and she it

was who whis ered the words in Mark Lird’s

ear that took iim to the Golden llurvcst that
night, where she met him as the pink domino.

She was powerless under the influence of a.
mighty love that seemed the work of i‘uagic.

She could do nothing but follow its dictates,
though love was not her only object in meeting
Mark that night. 'What the other purpose was,

the sequel will show.

It was late in the afternoon when Missouri
Belle neared the spot where she expected to find
her father. For nearly an hour she had been
winding her way through wild and gloomy
masses of timber. The ground was black and
swampy ; the undergrowth luxuriantly rank and
difficult to traverse. Had one been uncxptctcd~
ly set down in this spot, he would have behaved.
himself in a Southern swamp near the coast, in- .
stead of in the heart of an upland country. A
swamp it was, nevertheless; and Illack Swan: ‘
had an evil name for many a mile arouu .
There were wild and su erstitious stories told
of the strange and horrib 0 animals and reptilel-
win 1H0 haunts were dcc] ) in those gloomy recesses.

The Indians shunned the spot as bad medicine. , '-
A more secure refuge Equality Eph could not
have found in Texas. .

Yet he did not trust entirely to the po ulu”
fears and superstitions. As Missouri eiie
slowly picked her way over the intricate trail
by which alone the island refuge could be
reached, as the outlaws believed, she was re- ‘
peatcdly challenged b watchful sentinels. The ‘ .3
spotted pony half—Win ed, half—swam across the
narrow channel, and the vouni?r woman found
herself fairly Within the “ Den.’

Giving her pony into charge of the first man M
she met, Missouri Belle instantly sought out her ‘ ‘
father. She found him lying down, ale and _ V
haggard. Only partially recovered ruin his. ;,
accident, that day’s work had told upon him so- 
verei . . l

“ are at last!" he exclaimed, querulously.

“ I thought you were never coming. I half-ex- .
pectod you had run away with that young I
thief, Dashing Nedl” I A ‘

“ I came as soon as I could, father," 1' . nd- . l
ed the girl, in a low weary tone. “I payed
my part through. I led him away as I prom--
iscd; but if it was all to do over again, 1 would "5?
rather die l” 
Ef uality Eph eyed his daughter keenly, their
laughed, sneeringly. Thong l he said notlllsinl ,‘ 1,”;

e 0 "

\

there was that in his face that stun I
sharply. Her eyes flashed angrily, but t on she" }
arose and left the brush but without a word. '

Wear though she was from her 10
hard )'l( e, she seemed unable to rest. B an
outlaw was passing by, with a respectml how,
she checked iiiu. n answer to her questions he . in .1
ravo her a terse report of all that had owurml-I. "

‘hc ambushed men had not ctcomein,thoughl. ‘1’
it was believed that‘ their p an had succeeded. ; '4‘
Yes, the three captives were safe; and he poan
ed out to her the we cabins in which they were
confined. I , .I

Missouri Belle thanked him and started on. 3;.
Her mind was busy, and not all on lemma, a
thoughts. Until now, despite the Will , piece»
rious life she had led for as long as sho'eould
remember, she had scarcely known what un-n
happiness or sorrow meant. She had been al-
lowed her own way in ‘everything. The men -
almost worshi ed her. Everything had given,“
way to her easure. But nowJ—and hcr fair - 
brow cloud as she remembered the events of n
that morning’s ride from the chaparral village,’. " .
when, for a few minutes, the three captives worc‘ vii
to 'ether. ' '

ith a sudden resolve she paused before onel
of , the huts and demanded admittance of them
man who stood before the door. If he hesi tatedi '
it was but for a moment. The door swung open,
and Missouri Belle entered.

There was but one occupant, who arose as tho.
outlaw’s daughter entered. Without a won
Belle advanced and plac' her hands upon
Minnie Lamb’s shou ders, rned her 9.1mm
until the full light fell upon her face. The ,
maiden would ave shrunk back, but there was
a wonderful power in those little brown in
and though her face flushed hotly, she m”
forced to endure that long, keen inspection; » v

n

'and "t.

  
    
    
  
   
   
    
   
     
    
    
       
        
  

a

     
   
   
      
 
 
    

  

  
  
  
 

“ You are indeed lovel , child," said Missouri
Belle, as she at length rell‘ased her captive; and
there was a sober, almost stern shade upon her
face as she spoke. “ It is a face that some men
would 0 crazy over. And yet, it is but a doll’s
face, w on all is said. Look at me, child; look

at me closelly. You are lovely, as I said, but .

am I less so ’

Minnie shrunk back, but the brilliant black
eyes held her gaze as a serpent charms the flutv
tering bird.

“ I do not understand you—you frighten me!"
she murmured.

Missouri Belle laughed, low and niockingly.
This timidit pleased her. She had never
learned that hold hearts are oftcner caught in
silken meshes than in chains of steel, finely
wrought though the last maybe.

“ Poor little dove!" she uttcred, more kindly.
“ Better for on were you not so tender. You
would suffer 68$. 1 wish I could save you from
that bad man. ”

“ You can— on surely have the power!
look good an true. 'lnkc or send me
home, and I will bless and may for you—”

“ I would if I could. but dare not interfere.
lt may not be so bad.

You
1 mc k

 

Ovcrton 'is a black- ,‘

hearted wretch, but he cannot mean you any 1

:reat harm. There—I can stop no longer.

0 not despair; I will aid you if I can.”

As thou h fearing to wait longer, Missouri
Belle left he but and slowly approached the
second. cabin. She cast a half—apprehensive
glance toward the place where Eiuality lflph
rested, then bade the guard admit icr. In si—
lence be obeyed, and the next moment she stood

in the resence of Mark Bird and Kirke How—
ard. hey were bound hand and foot, lying in

an uncomfortable position. Belle sprung for-
ward on the im ulse of the moment and severed
their bonds, bi ding them arisc.

“,No,” she said, in a tone of genuine rcgrct.
“ I cannot give you further libert , dearly as I
would like. Were you to pass t at door, you
would be shot down without mercy. But at
least you shall not suffer the degradation of
bonds, while I can help it."

“You come like an angel of mercy, lady,"
said Kirke Howard, an unusual earnestness in
his tones, that caused Mark to open his big eyes
and utter a low whistle. “ I am very grateful.
i wish you could understand how much."

“ No more—~thanks,"snid Belle, with a haugh-
ty bow; then turning toward Mark: " And you,
sir? not a word to sa '14”

“ I repeat the wow s of my cousin, and hearti-
ly. But, ” and his voice grew more earnest, “I
trust that the lady—Miss Lamb—has met with
more courteous treatment?"

“5 What is she to you?” sharply demanded
Belle. “ Have you not troubles enough of your
own without wasting sympathy on others?”

" The fact that she is a lady should be a suf—
ficient excuse," quietly resixmdcd Mark.

“You have met her before. Your close at-
tention this morning would be proof sufficient,
even if I had not seen you dining with her, that
day at San Antonio. What do you know of
her’ what connection is there between you l"

“I only know that she is a lady, euro and
sweet as an angel. It will net be my fault if I
do not know her better in the future,” coolly ut—
tercd Mark.

“ You love her!” )anted Missouri Belle.

,“ I (lo—and prou 1 am to own it I”

“You dare—you dare tell me this? Ah! I
hate you—I hate her! 1—”

Missouri Belle stamped her little foot in
speechless rage, then turned and fled from the
cabin, leaving the cousins amazed at her wild
outburst. Nor would their wonder have been
lessened could they have witnessed her further
actions.

Passing swiftly through the little group of‘

huts, the girl flung herself down at the edge of
the water. Burying her face upon her arms she
gave way to a passionate biu‘st. of tears, her
whole frame quivering like a leaf with the vio-
lence of her emotions.

She lay thus until twili ht deepened into
night, then arose and procee ed toward her fa-
ther’s cabin. Just as she gained the entrance, a,
wild yell arose from within, and the door
open A dark form sprung 11 ion her, and
lifting her from her feet, rushc toward the
water. But the outlaws, alarmed, sprung up
on every side. Drawing a knife he placed it
against her bosom.

“Raise a weapon and she dies!" he cried.
“ Make way, there!”

CHAPTER XXV.

MONEY OR DEATHI

THROUGHOUT the night Colonel ,Overton 13y
where he had fallen beneath the assassin’s b —
lot like one dead. .

His horse, recovered from its afl'right and
tired of grazing, stood beside its strangely still
master,.now and then whimpering softly as it
bent its head and touched the blood-stained face
that stared blindly up to the paling stars. But
despite appearances e was ath and the cool
morning breeze was rapidly restoring his con-
sciousness. The light of reason shone in his
eyes, and with a faint groan he grasped the

\ -

 

‘ muttered Colonel Overton.

‘ amid the grass.

 

forelock of the faithful horse and with its assist—
ance stood erect.

For a time all was a.painful blank, and he
stared around him with eyes that saw nothin .
But the exertion of arismg had reopened his
wound, and as the warm blood trickled down
his face and dropped upon his hand one by one
the events of the past night came back to him
in swift succession, ending with that blinding
sheet of flame and lreiiumbin g pain.

“I was shot—but by whom?” he muttered,
clearing his eyes and ooking around. “ Who
did it—aiid for what—”

The truth flashed upon him as he remembered
the large sum of money he had received from
Mr. Marvin. A liissinir curse parted his lips as
he thrust a hand into Ills bosom. The pocket-
book was gone. Like magic his bodily strength
and mental powers were restored. A dark,
dcadly shade crept over his face as he caught
sight of the battered sombrero. He snatched
it up. Thcre was a small, silver image pinned
to t 1e front; the efllgy of a saint.

“ He wore onigbnt so do a thousand others,”
“And yet—who
clse could have known that I had money? And
he knew that I held his life in my hand. Terror
will make a coward dcs )crate—’

A bellmhnpcd golden utton lay at his feet: a
shred of blue broadcloth was attached. And,
just beyond, the bi ass handle of a knife shone
Brightcr and more snake-like

glcuincd the lialf—brced’s eyes. His heavy inns-
toche curlcd and bristled until his white, wolfish
tecth gleanicd startlingl white.

He drew the hat ovcr iis head, around which
he had wound his handkerchief. The knife he
placed in his boot, the button in an inner pock-
ct. He crouched'low down and searched the
ground foot by foot. He saw where the assassin
had stood when he fired the treacherous shot. He
saw where the short, heavy rifle had fallen in
the gi'ass, and closely scrutinized the weapon.
It was unloaded; beyond this fact there was no-
thing to identify it with the attempted assassin
atiou.

"The dog was cool enough to rob me: then
why did he leave so many and such damning
proofs of his identity! I cannot understand it,”
muttered Uvei'ton, as he resumed his iiivcstiga-
tions.

He could tell that the assassin had fled at
specd; and he saw that he had not been alone.
In places the tracks were covered by a larger.
broader footprint. He found the spot where the
torn and trampled grass bctokcned a fierce
struggle. He found the ends of two matches
that had been ignited. He scar Elicd further and
saw that two men had left the 8 lot, each going
at sipeed; but the trails led almost at right-
ang cs.

For a full minute Overton stood in moody
doubt. thich one of these men had taken his
monev? or had they divided their plunder!

“ That will do!" he muttered, as he whistled
to his horse. " I know where to find him, with-
out picking up the trail. I can learn the truth
from him; it will be the shortest way.”

He sprung lightly into the saddle and galloped
in a straight line for San Marcos. The discov-
ery he had made and a burning lust for revenge
restored his strength like magic, and he seemed
none the worse for the past night.

He pressed his good horse on at full speed, nor
drew rein until he dashed up to the door of the
inn kept by Juan Tierra. A wizened, smoke-
dricd Mexican met him at the bar—room door,
bowing and ducking like some outlandish auto—
maton. ’

“ Where is Juan Tierral” demanded Overton,
sternly.

“ ln bed, excellency,” bowed the man-a e.
“ He is very ill. He nearly died last night. he
holy father has ’ust left him. Ali! if he should
die! there woult be one more saint in heaven!"

“ May that sad day never come!” and Over-
ton showed his pointed teeth. “ But even were
be dead and buried, I bring him news that would
cheat the grave were it as deep as a. well. For
two days have I ridden and my‘ spur has never
dried. Go tell Juan Tierra that— Stop! I
will hear him the grand word in self. It is lit-
tle enough reward for my terrib e ride, to wit-
ness the rood, noble, saint—like man’s delignt.
You will s ow me to his bedside. And that we
may not be dry and empty in our rejoicings,
bring two bottles of your best hrandy.’7

The man-monkey did not for a moment sus-
pect the good faith of the pretended messen er,
so adroitly did Overton play his part, and 0st
no time in procuring the liquor from his mas-
ter’s private store. Knocking off the neck of
one bottle, Overton drank long and thirstily;
then he handed the remainder to the waiter,
saying:

“ Drink your master’s good health in that. Just
tell me which is his room. I know the house
well. There may some customers come in, and
you should be at your post ”

The mun-monkey did as’directed, and follow-
ing his ro a1 customer, pointed out the door of
the chamber where Juan Tierra lay, then hasti—
ly retreated to finish the bottle of randy.

/ . Colonel Overton noiselessly opened the door
and quickly stepped inside, a. cocked pistol in
his hand. But there was little need of such pre-

}

 

caution. The landlord lay upon a low cot,
sleepiniiheavily. Overton closed and barred the
door. aying bottle and istol upon the table
heturncdoverthe clothcst atTierra had sli pod
off. He found thatone button was missing in
the jacket. In one corner of the room he found
his own but, the soft brim of which was bullet—
pierced.

He folded the jacket lengthwise and sudden-
lv clapped it over the mouth of the sleeper. at
the same time straddling the cot, thus holding
his victim beyond all possibility of making an
alarm. The Mexican 3 eyes filled with an
unutterable horror as he recognized that dark,
handsome face, new glowing like that of a.
veritable fiend.

“Move but a mleare to utter a word
above your breath, Juan of the broken knife,
and I will gen1r your ‘aws with your own black
heart!” hissed the half—breed, and the demoniae
light in his eyes told that this was no idle threat.

Holding the Mexican’s own knife before his
eyes, Colonel Overton removed the jacket,
though he still retained his position astride of
his )rey. Reaching over he grasped the bran—
dy ottle and clippcd its head off with the back
0 his knife. Swallowing a portion of its con—
tents hn forced the landlord to drink also.

“ ow, Juan the Devil, let‘s to business. I
suppose you can uess why I am here?”

' he landlord s owlv shook his head. Over—
ton laughed softly. There was a deeper mali —
nity in such a laugh than a dozen oaths coulgd
have conveyed.

“Listen. I will tell you. I was murdered,

last night. There were two men concerned in
it. They shot me here; because I had a 00d
sum of money, I suppose. But the were un-

glers, for only my scal suffered, t ough I fell
like one dead. They ro bed me, these two men.
{cannot afford to lose so much. You must help
me to recover the money. I give you five min—
utes in which to do this. If you fail—then I
shall kill you; See?” .

“I know nothing—how should I?” faltered
the trembling wretch, in a whisper. ‘

“I did not tell you all. One of these mur'
dorcrs left his hat, his knife, his sombrero be-
side me. I have them here. Do you not recog—
nize them?" '

Again Tierra shook his head as Overton
showed him the three articles. But “0 turned
even more ghastly than before, and his terror-
stricken features betrayed him.

“Bah! am I a fool? I followed your trail
here. I have seen you wear this hat and knife.
I matchcd this button and ra with our torn
jacket. And there lies my at w iich you
must have snatched up in mistake or your own;
and in it is the mark of your bullet. Tell me
where you have hidden the mono —tell me who
was your accomplice and where can find him.
Tell me this, or by the heavens above! I’ll b
this knife to the hilt in your foul heart!"

“I did not, senor—he robbed me, too! He
took the money. I do not know where he is. I
never saw him—~”

Overton laughed, sneeringly.

“I give you three minutes, by the watch.
Confess everything, restore the money you,
robbed me of, or die."

Holding the open watch in one hand and the
bared knife suspended before the landlord’s eyes,
Overton quietly told off the fast-fleeting seconds.
There was a deadly determination written upon
every feature, and Tierra knew that he was
doomed. Unless——

All was still without. There was no he of
help from that quarter unsummoned, an the
first attempt at outer would bring down that
threatening blade. ut the jeweled butt of a
knife glininiered in the half~breed’s belt. If he
could only reach it!

Inch by inch his hand stole down. He be u
tohope. But Overton closed his watch. be
time was up!

Tierra made a desperate gras ) at the knife, at
the same time uttering a wil yell for help.
Only one. The knife descended and buried its
length in his heart!

CHAPTER XXVI.
AN ENEMY IN CAMP.

Swn-‘r and sure the half—breed struck, sending
the sharp-pointed blade with all his force to its
haft in the screaming Wretch’s bosom. There
was no need to repeat the stroke. The heart of
Juan Tierra was cleft in twain.

With the blood-dripping weapon clutched in
his hand, Colonel Qverton sprung to the floor,
his head bent in listening. A single moment
was enough. There were loud, excited voices
and the sounds of hurrying feet, rushing tower
the room where he stood. The cry of the land
lord for help had been heard and was being only
too 1prompt y answered.

T is was more than Overton had counted up-
on. Such prompt action upon a startling sur~
prise was foreign to the Mexican nature, as his
ex rience went. He had anticipated no diffi-
on t in leaving the inn, and ere the inmates
realized the truth, be expected to be fairly clear
of the town.

But the man-monkey was quite as fond of w,
cretsas he was of liquor at another’s expeu
and scouting an advantage to himself. he ha

, .

I

 
 

i
l

 

 

w.

 

- tried to bu

 

1
C._""

 

made use of the same loophole through which
Double Dan spied upon Overton. The excite-
ment into which he was thrown by what he saw,
can be imagined. For a few moments lie was
spellbound. Then, remembering that his wages
were in arrears, he stole away to raise the alarm
and rescue his paymaster.

To this fact was owing the surprise which met
( )verton as he flung open the door of the death-
vhamber. A dozen men filled the narrow pas—
sageway, all armed, a truly desperate prospect.
Overton cast a glance across the room. The one
window was substantiall barred. To force an
opening would take too long. There was only
one course open to him; and that course he too i
without further hesitation.

’l‘he revolver in his left hand spoke twice in
swift succession, followed by wild yells and
great confusion among the retainers of the inn.
Then, like a human cata ult, the half-breed
charged through the vail 0 blue smoke, plying
a knife with one hand and pistol-butt with the
other, adding to the wild uproar with a shrill
Comanche war-whoop. The doughty servants
fell before his rush like ten-pins before a skillful
bowler, some wounded, seine stricken senseless,
but the majority from sheer fright and the shock
of that iinpetuous rush.

A derisive cheer announced Overton’s arrival ‘

at the door; the next moment he was seated
upon his good steed, thundering down the nar-
row street with drawn revolvers ready to second
his quick eye in case of need.

But few of the natives seemed afoot, and
those who Were contented themselves with a
quiet stare and shrug of the shoulders. It was
no new thin to see a drink-crazed man “ play-
iii r circus” in San Marcos, and few of the iii-
ha itants were patriotic enough to even attempt
putting down such a nuisance.

Unmolested, Colonel Overton rode clear of
the town, keeping his animal at speed until San
Marcos faded from view. Then, subsiding into
a quiet trot, he gave his mind over to deep
thought.

The mystery of the past night troubled him
sorely. He knew now that Juan Tierra had not
kept the money for which he had attempted
murder. Covetous though he was, the landlord
loved life even more dearly, and would have
off his destroyer, had he the stolen
money. nd yet—why had he not betrayed
who was his confederate? A faint suspicion of
the truth—that he had been dogged by two per—
sons, the second of whom had robbed the rob-
ber—dawned upon his mind, but Overton dis—
missed the notion as soon as conceived. It was
too improbable.

“ Well,” he muttered, finally, arousing and

‘ touching up his horse, “there is no use grum-

bling over what can’t he helped. There’s more
money where that came frdm, and I’ll strike the
aid follow for a bigger stake, that’s all. Now for
Equality Eph! The game would be but half-won
if,he fails to take the bait.”

Colonel \ Overton did not spare his willing
horse, but pressed on at to —s oed for the ren-
dezvous of the Cha arral o ves eager to ar-
range the final pre iminarios to his diabolical
plot. While keeping a close look-out against
falling in with Dashing Ned’s Rangers—whom
he knew to be scouting somewhere in the vicini—
tV—Ovcrton never drew rein until he reached
the dense Chaparral, where, early that same
morning, the wolves and uiastiil’s had tested
their powers.

The torn and trampled ground, the 001s of
coagulated blood, together with more t an one
corpse, told Overton what had transpired. HIS
fiee grew dark and anxious. What had been
the result? He feared the worst, since it was
easy to see that the fight had led steadily to-
ward the outlaw village.

“ If the girl is but safe!” he muttered. “ Un-
less I keep faith with the Kiowa this time, my
day in Texas is over. Whirlwind would keep
his word. He would hunt me down like a wolf ! ’

A few minutes later he stood upon the edge of
the clearing, azing upon the blackened ruins of
the outlaw vi loge. 'lhe Rangers had not slight-
ed.their task. ot a pole nor a timber stood up-
right. All was desolation. _

Colonel Overton stood in deep thought for a
minute. Thoroughly acquainted with the re-
sources of the Wolves, he knew that, unless too
hard-pressed, they would make the best of their
way to the Black Swamp.

“ If not there, then the game is up!” he mut-
teredgfinally. “I’ll try that. If I don’t strike
pay-dirt there, the sooner I levant, the better
for my health l"

Striking into a side trail. Overton reason on
through the Chaparral for several m' es, finall

‘ dismounting in a secluded glade beside a sma 1

spring. for the pu se of 'vin his horse a
much needed rest. l‘filzwing IlggI/llll'lgé‘ to eat, him-
self, Overton lay down for a short nap. An
hour later he awoke, and mounting, set out for
Black Swamp. -.

At the edge of this gloomy refuge be a ain
paused. He knew that the elves, if in eed
they had retreated hither, would be keeping un—
usually strict guard. As he was ignorant of
the present pass-word, an attempt to pass the
lines would be a nded with no little danger.

Eqdismonn and concealed his horse ina

 

 

. ,EQFaliW ,Eph:

dense clump, proceeding cautiously along the in-
tricate trai , on the close look-out for the first
guard. All at once a low, indistinct chirping
sound was heard, that an stranger might easi-
ly have mistaken for the Wittering of a young
bird. But Overton instantly paused and uttered
a low whistle, adding:

“ I’m a friend—Overton.
news to the chief.
pass-word. ”

The guard seemed satisfied with this explana-
tion, and possessed of the pass—word, Overton
pressed on with renewed confidence, nor did he
experience any further trouble in passing the
sentinels.

J ust before he reached the water-ditch, a tu-
mult arose upon the island, and pressing for-
ward, Overton witnessed a curious and thrilling
scene.

Several small fires lit up the, island quite dis-
tinctly. Outlined against this he saw a tall,
dark figure, clasping the form of a woman to
his breast, the firelight reflecting from the blade
of a long knife which he held tlireatenin r1y
against her bosom. Beyond were gathered a.
score, of outlaws, all armed, wildly excited, at
held in check by the cool determination of t at
single man.

“ At the first motion the girl dies!” came the
clear, commanding voice to ()vcrton’s ears.
“Though 1 war not with women, my life is of
more value to me than hers. I am a )out to re-
treat. It' you are sensible and do not attempt
to interfere, you shall have the girl as soon as I
reach cover, safe and sound. If otherwise, you
will only receive her dead body.”

Overton reco rnized the bright dress of Mis-
souri Belle, an in an instant his resolve was
taken. Marking the point where the stran rer
would probably take to the water, he gli cd
noiselesst along until he reached a point di-
rectly Opposite. And none too soon. T 16 stran—
ger was just at the edge of the water, where
the bank was steep and sli i way. He was shift-
ing his grasp upon the maiden with the evident
intention of casting her from him as ho sprung
into the water.

Overton raised a revolver and with a. quick,
steady aim fired. The stranger uttered a. sharp
cry and fell backward into the stagnant waters,
bearing the half<senseless maiden with him.

Overton did not hesitate a moment, but
plunged in to the rescue. The Wolves rushed
forward with loud cries. They saw a fierce
struggle going on in the water, and could faiut~
ly distinguish forms, but dared not use their pis-
tols for fear of injuring friends rather than too.

But their ukLWns not needed. A dark figure
was seen swimming toward them, bearing the
half—drowned girl upon his arm; and the voice
of Overton was heard calliinr for assistance.
This was eagerly afforded, and relieved of his
burden, lie easil climbed the steep bnnk, shak-
ing the mud an water from his garments like
some huge water-dog.

“ Some of you fel ows can go in and pull the
man out, whoever he is. You’ll find my knife
between his ribs,” uietly observed Overton,
raising Missouri Be le in his arms once more.
“ ()ne of you show me where the chief lodges.
The girl needs rouipt attention.”

While a nlim er of the outlaws plunged in of
tor the bod , others escorted the rescuer to
Equality Ep i‘s tent.

 they entered, the outlaw chief suddenly
Cl‘lG( :

\ “Kill him! it is Double sight, the Death
Shot!”

I bring important
Come out and give me the

CHAPTER XXVII.
A STRANGE sroar.

EQUALITY EPH started to his feet with a na-
niacal vell of fear and hatred as the little party
entered his tent. He glared at Overton as
though at some dread specter of the past. He
staggered toward the wall where hung a revol-
ver belt, but ere his trembling hand could clutch
a weapon, his legs gave way and he sunk to the
floor like one in a fit.

Overton laughed disagreoabl as be lowered
the senseless form of Missouri ollo to the cot-
bed. By his orders one of the women was sent
for, under whose ministrations the maiden
s eedily recovered her senses. but not before

verton had discovered an ugly flesh-cut upon
the head of the Chaparral Wolf. He shrugged
his shoulders and smiled slightl .

“ That accounts for his niista e,” he observed;
but no sooner did the outlaw’s eyes open to re-
stored consciousness than the same look of hor-
ror filled them.

“Kill him!” he
at the half-breed.
him curSe you!”

“ 00k closer, captain,” quietly uttered Over-
ton, bending over the outlaw. “Surely you
recognize me—Overton—your friend and ally f"

“ f saw you plain] “persisted Equality Eph.
shrinking back. “ ou came to my side as I
was lyin down. You called me by that old
name. on struck at me with a knife—there
was a paper 11 on the blade—”

Missouri Be a uttered a little cry, and turn-
ing, the persons resent saw that she held a
long, slender  e in her hand; and upon

ga. d, venomousl , glarin
“ t’s the Death-Slot! lxil

,I, I‘

 

19

the blade was a square bit of paper bearing
blood-red characters.

Overton laughed sharply as all eyes were tum-
ed, doubting, toward him.

“There has been some clever jugglery going
on in our midst. But I am not ashamed of my
part in it. Captain, listen. You say that I am
the Death—Shot; that the Death-Shot visited you
here, leaving you his card—"

“ Yes. I tried to seize him but he knocked
me down with a pistol, and fled.”

“ Good enough! Now, Miss Belle please give
your version of the affair," smiled Overton.

The maiden complied in a few words.

“Once more, good! Now listen. I was com-
ing to see on. I heard the alarm. I hastened
to the we. er—ditcli, and there 1 saw some om
holding Miss Belle as a shield a ainst the wea-

pons of your men, captain. watched my
chance and shot him. He fell into the water,
bearing Miss Belle in his arms. I immediately

lunged in and succeeded in touring her from

is death—clutch. I swam ashore, nearly
strangled. I came here—to be cursed instead of
congratulated. But that does not matter. The
fact that I saved Miss Belle from a very dis-
agreeable and unroniantic death is quite suf-
ficient reward.” I

Equality Eph stared blankly at Overton
while he was speaking, and when the half-breed
paused, with a low bow to Missouri Belle, he
glanced appealiugly at the two outlaws who
stood near.

Overton nodded to them smilingly.

“What he says is ospel truth, boss " one of
the follows said. “ I ielped fer to puli him up
the bank. The boys is s’urchin’ new for the kar-
kidge o’ the crittei'—-”

“ Him the dead has come to life!” groaned.
Equality Eph, covering his face with his hands.

‘Hushl” hissed Overton, stooping low over
him. “ Would you publish yoursecrets through
the camp? Contain yourse f until I can clear
the cabin.” .

This was easil effected. Missouri Belle, now
fairly recoverci from her perilous adventure,
hastened away to change herdrippin garments
and the two outlaws were dispute led to aid
their follows in the search for the bod of the
Death-Shot. Overton carefully closed edoor,
then drew near to the Chaparral Wolf.

“ Now what do you mean by the dead having
arisen?" he asked. “ You can trust me, surely,
by this time."

“ You swear upon your soul that it was not
you—that you did not threaten me with death
—that you did not leave that do 'ger—"

“You need not take my wor alone for it,"
impatiently interrupted Overton. “ Any of
your men can swear that I was not on the
island, until after the man who visited ygu was
shot. Rouse yourself, friend, or I’ll gin to
believe you are going craz .” .

“That man was the per ect image of you—so
much so that I addressed him as you,” mutter-
ed the chief.

“Did you ever know a man who resembled
me so closely? I mean, before this day?" persist-
ed Overton.

“In everything but complexion—yes! You
must have heard of him—seen him. tool Would
to God that I never had!”

“ You don’t nieun~”

“A '! Isaac Howard, the man we both
thong t was dead and buried long years a_ I
You must remember; he was your exact s 243
and build; even the features were strangely
alike—only you are dark, while he was fair as
morning.’

“I never saw him but twice; and then only
for a moment. But he is dead—surely l"

"So I would have sworn! He was in the
house when we set it aflre. Be rushed to the
door, all ablaze, and I ’shot him down with m
Own hand! His bones were found, and burie ,
together with those of his wife and children.”

‘I never learned the full particulars. You
know I rode away with my braves immediately
all was over. But I afterward heard a rumor
that one of the children was unaccounted for.
It was generally supposed that the fire de-
stroyed its remains completely."

“ And so I supposed for over a year. But the
child was saved. Ben ’l‘olin, one of my men,
while looking for plunder in the burning house,
stumbled over an infant. He had recently lost
his wife and hub , and so the soft-hearted fool
carried the Clllli away, secretly, fearing that
we would kill it to destroy every trace of our
work. Some words that he let drop one day.
when in liquor, put me on the trail, and I forced
the truth from him. I saw the child, took a
fancy to her, and since that day she has been
brou ~ht u as my own child.”

“ 0t Ma’ssonri Belle?" exclaimed Overton.

“Yes; Missouri Bella. She is really the
daughter of Isaac Howard, though I have
learned to love her almostasniuchas I formerly
loved her mother. "

sfio! that was the reason you hated How-
ar 1

“ Yes. We both loved the same woman; but .
he won her. That made a devil of me I verily x
believe. I we laid him one night, and we had ‘
it out. My oot slipggd, and he left me for
dead. He, tearing to arrested for murder—-

    

20

5:331:17”

 

for no person believed I could live—left the
country. It was ten years before I struck his
trail; then I found him here, in Texas. You
know the rest. We butchered the whole family,
as we thought, though three of the number must
have escaped. Their oldest child, a. boy, was
away from home on a visit; Ben Tolin saved
the youngest daughter: and to—night I have met
Isaac Howard, face to face!”

“ It does not seem possible! where has he he it
himself through all these 'ears? Why has 0
not sought out his son, of w om you spoke!”

“I feel that I am right, though there are
many things I cannot account for. For two
years, now, this Death—Shot has been haunting
us. During that time, nearly every one of the
men who accompanied me on that black night
has been killed. And in every case there has
been found, either on the body or close by, a
card similar to that one: bearing a blood-red
cofiin, a crossed bullet, and that strange signa—
ture. To-night, for the first time, I saw his
face. It was the very picture of yours: or that
of Isaac Howard, with skin stained and hair
dyed.”

“ Strange!" muttered Overton, thoughtfully.
“Still, it may be a. mere coincidence."

“No! he demanded his daughter—and he

called me by my real name—a name that I have
not‘borne for full tive-and-twenty years. He
swore that I should die by the death I designed
for him i”
‘ “You are safe from that, at least. ” and Over
ton laughed sharply. “ My shot only wounded
the fellow, but as we grappled beneath the wa-
ters, I drove my knife home—I felt the guard
grate against his breast-bone! Ha!” he ex—
claimed, as the sound of excited voices came to
their ears. “That tells the tale! The boys
have found his body! Come! let’s go and see
the show. If the famous Death-Shot is indeed
our' old friend Isaac Howard, we can easily
prove the fact. Come!"

Together they left the cabin and hastened
across the island to where a fire had been kin-
dled upon the bank above the spot where the
mysterious Death-Shot had plunged into the

black waters. '

“ What luck, boys '1" cried Overton, addressing
the dripping, mud-covered men who stood be-
side the fire. “Where is the body '5”

“Gone!” was the sullen reply. “He must
have had a friend in waiting. e ound where
a body had been dra rged out through the mud,
then carried to w ere a horse had stood
hitched.” .

“'Why are you here, then? Go search every
foot of the snow. If he escapes, the Rangers
will come down on us—"

“All are gone but us,” muttered the man.
“(Some one must sta to guard the prisoners.”

“ Lead me back— feel faint!” gasped Equali—
ty E h. “ Ho swore that he would kill 111%”

“ nd your doom is scaled! Death—death

fl/rel” uttered a deep, solemn voice, coming
from the black waters.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
A DIABOLICAL PLOT.

OVERTON wheeled, wit a hissing oath, and
drew a revolver, glaring ercely at the two men
who stood near. It needed but a. glance to see
that neither of these had uttered those threaten-
ing words. Astonishinent and awe was written
upon their ever features. The words had evi—
dently proceed from the black waters of the
swamp at their feet. But who could be lurking
there? This was the question they asked them-
selves. And it was answered in a most start-
lin manner.

m directly above their heads came a laugh
shrill, prolonged and taunting. As they stare
upward, the strange sound appeared to rocode,
floating away toward the center of the island,’
ending in a weird, doleful wail.

Overtoti laughed, shortly.

“ Some one is trying our nerves with his ven-
triloquial powers. I will give him one hundred
dollars to step out and face me like a man !"

There was no answer to this defiance, and see—
ing that Equality Eph was nearly overcome
With his injuries :1 (led to his superstitious
fears, OvertOn took his arm and led him back
to the cabin. Producing a brandy—flask, he
made the outlaw chief drink a strong potion,
then said:

“ While we are waiting for the men to bring in
our good friend, the Death Shot, 0 on and tell
me the rest of your story. There is more in this
Howard business than you have told me. In
return. I’ll let you into a little job I have on
hand; no that will pa big money."

The 11 nor Equality ph had drunk, was pro-
ducing its desired effect. His nerves Were grow-
ing steadier with every moment.

‘ I always intended you should have a share
in it,” he said, which, by the way, was a flat lie;
only for his disa pointmcnt in failing to pro-
cure the papers roni Kirke Howard Overton
would never have been taken into his confi-
dence. “ I was only waiting until matters set

.1 tlo into ship-she

' “ You remcmwer that the oldest son of Isaac

‘ Howard was absent from home on that night.

I intended putting him out of the way, too, I
hated his father so bitterly. But while waiting

 

,Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

   
 

 

 

 

 

for the storm to blow over, the famil he was i burning, and I had met them in Europe, not

stii ing with, left the country, and I 0st sight
of mu until a year ago. I saw a new in a pa—
per about a large fortune that but fallen to one

'irke Howard, through a curious chain of inci—
dents. I’ll show you the account some time.
Enough that the fortune was left to Isaac How-
ard and his heirs. Young Howard proved his
identity, and as the only surviving child, the
whole property fell to him. So it was supposed;
but I knew better. I knew that I held posses—
sion of a co—heir.
and claimed a share, but I resolved to have the
whole.

“ My first move was to find out where How—
ard hung out, and then to write him a. letter. I
signed the name of David Woodson to it; for no
particular reason, only you had been s making
of him that day. I budc him come to '1 virus, if
he wished to clear up a dark mystery. He an-
swered, and then I wrote immediately. I told
him there was an error in the belief that his
father was dead—”

-“ Then you knew of this all the time?”'

, “ No; when I wrote that, I could have sworn
that the bones of the man who was buried by
the old ranch were those of Isaac Howard. I
said that, simply because I thou ht it would
prove the surest bait to draw him into my trap.

“I neglected nothing. I bade him bring with
him all the papers by which he had proved his
identity in the will case that I might know he
was indeed the son of Isaac Howard. I bade
him await me at Galveston. I intended to set
him on some trail that would insure his easy
capture. I wanted his papers to show me how
to get to work to prove Belle the real heiress.
After I had pumped him dr , I meant to send
him after his father. Then would take Belle,
together with the apers and sworn testimony
to the effect that s 10 was the child rescued from
the Howard ranch by Ben Tolin, and put in her
claim for the money.”

“ A good enough plan,” said Overton thought-
fully. “ I only see one drawback. When Belle
finds out that you are not her father—and that
she is a great heiress—what’s the odds she don’t
give you our walking papers?"

“ I saw hat, too,” rinned Equality Eph. “ I
told you once that loved her mother. The
daughter is now quite as handsome, though
dark, instead of fair complexioned. I am not
so old, nor yet ill-looking, when I ut on civil-
ized togs. intended to marr t 6 girl first,
then install her as the heiress. ee?"

“I see. But you spoke as though the plan
had failed. You have captured young Howard,
what has gone wrong?"

“The apers. I can find them no place. He
admits t at he had them when he was brought
into camp, but swears that they were stolen
from him that very same night as he lay bound.
I have searched everywhere, but in vain.”

“ I should think it could be managed without
them,” observed Overton, thoughtfully.

“I don’t dare stand a close trial,’ candidly
admitted Eqiialit Eph. “There might be too
muchiproof rake up. I have not liVed the life
of a saint.” ‘

“You have never given either of them any
hint of their real relationship to each other?"

“ Of course not. ”

“There is a way, then,” and the half-breed
laughed. “Marry them; force him to execute
a will in her favor; then plant him, and marry-
in r his widow, o and claim your reward.”

icked and t orbughl heartless as he was,
Equality Eph stared at t e half—breed with an
expression that was not far removed from dis-
gust.

“ That is what I , would do in your place.
However, if you don't like the plan, let it drop.
You have both birds secure, and for such a
prize on can afford to hide our time.”

“ I out dewair, as yet. at you spoke of a
mone job. but is it?”

“ 0t unlike yours, though on a. smaller scale.
But it has one advantage. ' There is little risk,
and the money is sure. You have not forgotten
old Jack Castor? The Kiowas killed him—not
outright, but so that ‘he died. I saved his scalp,
and as part payment he set me on the trail of a
good thing.

“ A good many years ago, he ranged in Mis-
souri. His last Job was a big one. He robbed
a rich farmer and then fired the buildin to
cover his work. Not only this, but he sto e a
little girl intending to use it as a means of
bleeding the father still more freely. He start-
ed to hide her, then returned to give the alarm,
so the golden goose wouldn’t be roasted. But it
happened that two travelers were passing by,
and noticing the flames, gave the alarm, saving
the old folks and servants. Jack recognized one
of them, and did not put in an appearance, for
a good reason. That man knew enoughvto hang
him twice over; and more, he possessed the will
as well as the power. '

“He struck out for parts unkupfvn, taking
the oun one with him. But whe he tried to
put ’3 p an into execution, he could not find
the Marvins. They had left the country. He

could find no trace of them, and at last gave it,

up as a bad job. -
‘,‘ It is a curious coincidence that I was one of
those two men who saved the . 'ns from

I could have presented her, ‘

 

  
    

three years before Castor made me his heir.
AsIknew that the old folks were rich, I I‘D--
solved to work the lead. By advertising freely.
I succeeded in finding them. Then I made sure
of the girl. I sent her here by Grizzly Paw—”

“ Not Minnie Lamb!”

“The very girl, pard. I thought some of
mariying her, but she had some little objec—
tions, and I concluded it wasn’t worth while.
Well, I got the parents out here. I have seen
them, and received five thousand dollars on ac
count. They’re to pay ten thousand more, -
when I restore the girl to them. That will be a
snug little sum apiece, if you care to join in.” “

“Let me know what I am to do, first,” said
the outlaw chief, dryly. ‘

“Not much. “'e are to take the girl, to~ l ,
morrow cvcninr’, to the Bufl‘alo Hump. One of , I
my men has orders to guide the Marvins there. i,
but not to arrive before dusk. I mean to hand ' a
over the girl, receive the money, and when
they are having a good time generally, vou arc
to come forward and capture the lot. on can i
take them to seine snug place—here, if you like:
and then squeeze the old man well for ransom
money. See?"

“ And we’ll divide oven?“

“Share and share alike—yes,” replica! Over-
ton.

“It will come in hand:v if I conclude to take
Belle to the States for that fortune,” muttered
Equality Eph, thoughtfully.

“ How much is that fortune?" asked the half
breed.

“A little less than a million; not much,
thou h.” '

“ ’ell worth a little risk and trouble! You
won’t try the plan I suggested; about marrying
the two?"

“No. I‘d do ’most anything else—”

“ I have it!” and Overton Ian hed aloud.
“Just change the parties a little. “orce How-
ard to marry Minnie—you can, if you try hard
enough. That done, he must sign a deed, or
make a. will in her favor. Of course he’d have
the good sense to die, soon after. Then you
might marry the widow—or we could draw lots
for the chance; the winner, of course, to divide \
with the other. It can be done—what say .4”

“ I’ll do i!" cried Equality Eph, extending!
his hand.

 

 

-gn...‘

CHAPTER XXIX.
THE DEATH sflor AT WORK.

WHEN Double Dan was aroused from his pic
tare-writing by the faint creaking of the brush-i
wattled door, and glanced up to behold that
dark, handsome face peering in upon him, his
first thought was he had been dogged by 0010-
nel Overton, and behestin snatched up a revel» i
ver. But a second look convinced him of his er-
ror. The man before him though bearing a J
wonderful likeness to Colonel Overton in figure
and feature, was in fact a far different rson— .
age; none other than the real owner of t is hid— ‘
den cabin, and the one for whose information
Double Dan was so arduously ornamenting the
buck-skin shirt in charcoal.

As soon as convinced of his error Double Dan
dropped his weapon, and the two men clasped
hands with an earnestness that spoke well for
the strength of their friendship.

” I’ve bin waitin’ for ye pei'ty nigh a month,
pard ” chuckled the spy, his double voice filling
the 'ttle low room. “They’s big news—big
news, pard l” ‘

“ I have not been idle,”smiled the new-comer.

“ I have added three more names to the'record.
and have 'ven the Wolves somethin'1r to think
about. I ed them a fine dance over the rairie,
and dro ped them by slipping into the ole we I
know 0 in the old harranca.’ , , 4, '

“You’ll git salivated one 0’ these times, ef , g .4,
you don’t be more keerless,” and Double Dan ,. v
shook his bullet—head reprovingl y.

“ I gave Dashing Ned and the boys a benefit,
too, last night. I )layed the fiery head on
them, and it workex to a charm. I looked
hideous enough to frigliten myself, but the cap
tain is true it. He noted me hard, and on y
for my nig t—glass, would have tvri‘iypped me.
sure! As it was, 1 led him to the 0 PS den,
and ve him directions where to find the key."

“ ou showed ’em the way’l” eagerly cried.

Double Dan. .
“About the same. By this time they should
be makin things rather uncomfortable for
Equality tph and his gang of cutthroats.”
‘Whar is it? Good Lawd! spit it out, boss!
I don’t want to lose all the fun 1‘ .
“There’s plenty of time. While I am eating.
tell me what you were trying to mark on that
shirt. ’
Double Dan seemed accustomed to obey this
strange man, and, though he seemed sitting on
nettles, he did not deinur now. In as few words
as possible he ran over the principal points of
his doggin olonel Overton, As he came to
the plot of e half-breed in which Minnie Lamb,.
the Marvins and Whirlwind, the Kiowa chief..
were to play such prominent parts, the man.
known as Death Shot grew strangely agitated. if
This excitement culminated when Double Dim. '
handed him the papers of which he ‘had (lbw ’ q.’ “M
ceased the Mexican. Juan Tim - .

 

 

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fluvial.”

 

21

 

Equality rEph.

I. ,-fl

Double Dan stared at him in open-mouthed The Death Shot simply bowed his thanks, made so authoritatively that the fellow never

astonishment. For an instant he feared that his 1
friend and master was dying. But the Death
Shot pushed away the proffered whisky-flask, i
smiling faintly.

“God bless you! you have brought me a
double life, my friend—if what I read here is
true—and it must be! He would never have
mad.) the notes unless there was truth in
them—3’ '

“le you mean Turn—over, boss, you’ll come ‘
nigher to the mark of you read anything he writ
back’ards. He never told the truth in his life
’cept when he tried to tell a lie—«fact?7

"This is his own private "unnorandumobook,
Dan. And what is written here only goes to
confirm what I already had reason to suspect.
Up, mun! there’s hard and hot work before us.
If you are not fresh enough to keep up with me,
you must follow my trail. There’s ife—moro
than life at stake!”

“ They’s only one boss in this State as kin do
In legs justice, boss: an’ that‘s the critter you
ri o. But I’ll bet yc the wuth of a week's drunk
that I’ll be ’ithin call 0’ you at t’other eend o7
the trail, ef it lasts a week."

The Death Shot made no re ly, but leaving
the cabin, uttered a shrill \vhist e. With a joy-
ful neigh, a'magnificent stallion, black as mid—
night burst through the bushcs and bent its
proud head for the coveted caress. Its master

roduced a saddle and bridle from a. hollow log
lal‘d by, and adjusting them, mounted and rode
out of the timber island.

Double Dan kept closo tohis heels, a broad
grin upon his monkey-like face. Instead of a
disagreeable duty he seemed to regard the
promised longau hard race as a pleasant bit of
s )ort.

1 “Better mount behind me " said the Death
Shot, as he settled himself firmly in the sad-
dle.

“ ’M in too hi a hurry " grinned Dan, fhrow-
iug open his col ar. " Et '0 (rain’t keep up, jest
s ucal, an’ I’ll run easy, 1i (0.”

iko an arrow fresh loosed from the how the
black horse darted away across the level )laiu.
lVith his chest squared, his head thrown ck,
Double Dan followed, with an case and untrain-
el race that would have filled the heart of a
Jac 'son or a Huzael with envy. He had in no
respect overrated his powers. Swift us the

man machine at his heels. And for mile after
milc their relative itions never changed.
At any moment, had ie felt so inclined, Double
Dun could have extended his hand and caught
tho straight-floating tail of the black racer.

And two hours later, when the Death Shot
drew rein at the edge of tho Chaparral in which
the Wolves” village had stood, Double Dan was
beside him, grinning broadly as ever, and,
though panting a little, seemingly good for
another spurt as hard and long.

“They ain’t much I’m good fer," he chuckled,
“ 'cept to skecr the babies, but of anybody wants
a two-legged boss to ketch chain-hghtnin’, jest
send ’em to me, how!" .

“ If all else fails, you can hire out as a tele-

raph. But come—we must find the Ran rers.
’11 Want you to introduce me, as Dashing ed
might string me up as Colonel Overton. But
remember, not aword as to who I really am. ,
I'll clear up everything in my own time.” ;

Entering the chaparral, they followed the:
broad trail left by the Rangers. Double Dan '
opened in dis ust as he marked the various evi- [

ences of the ght, and seemed to think himself
sorely abused in that the Rangers did not wait I
for him to help them open the “circus.”

An hour later they found the Run ers, not far
from the spot where Fred Meyer on his fellows
had been ambushed. The appearance of the
Death Shot created uite a sensation, and his

arting speech to oublo Dan might well
ave come true. had not the spy swore to his
honesty.

Double Dan gavein his report. and then the
Death Shot drew Dashin Ned aside. He assured
him that he ossessed t epower to lace the
Wolves into is hands Without a c ance of
failure, provided he would withdraw his men
from the Chaparral, as though he had given
over the hunt in despair.

“ I knOW/where they are in hiding, but aregi-
If on
draw off. I can lure them out of their hhlo.
Double Dan can vouch for my sincerity. Do
this, and I pledge synou my word that in forty—
eight hours you ll have E uality Eph and
Colonel Overton captives, or (Iook upon their
dear} boriieazh _

“ possess 8 war to force on to show me
this retreat," Dashing Nedzioubtinfily.

“Pardon: to take me captive, possi ly, but ,
no more. In one word, will you accept my !

 

 

re
p Dashing Ned eyed the stranger keenly. The i
Death Snot drew a white wxg and false board
from his bosom. .

“ I were these when I warned you of the plot l
to rob-the bank at San Antonio. Did I deceive
you than?"

“No; and I’ll trust you now. You will find:
rs when you require our v

usatthe Three M

l

j w
, '(1
‘ ' . .v hr... .

   

 

then drew Doublo Dan aside and whispered a
few words in his car, after which he mounted
his horse ind rode away.

Dushin;~ Ned was forced to await the return
of his scouts, who were still absent, seeking for
the broken \:rail of the outlaws. While waiting,

the main arty kindled fires and prepared food, 1

the first t 10)’ ‘mfl cutcnthnt day.

The afternoon was bnlf spent, when Double
Dan, who was still eating suddenly chnngcd
countenance. Clapping both hands to the pit of
his stomach, he plunged into the bushes, from

whence )rocceded sundry agonized sounds not ‘
llllllkl‘ . 1'10 I orlc, which convulscd the Rungcrs ‘

with laughter. And while they were laughing,

Double Dan was stealing silcntly awa ' with the. ,

Death Shot, chuckling inaudibly at the success
of his ruse.

“711011 at a safe distance the Death Shot halt- .

ed and rapidly explained his plans to Double
Dan, toget
pectcd to play. Daring as he was, the )l'()—
gramme nearly took away Dan’s breath. I ow-
pvcr, he knew that it would be folly to expostu—
ate.

Twilight found them close to the island refuge
in Black Sw p. Death Shot crossed the ditch
dry—shod by nssing along an overhanging limb
and dropping from its extremity.

In anx10us suspense Double Dan awaited the
result of the reckless adventure, and as he saw
how many of the outlaws werc restlessly stir-
ring, he could scarcely hope that all would turn
out well. And his fears were only too speedily
confirmed. The wild ycll of Equality ‘Iph s
terror rung out, and instantly the islum was all
alive. Double Dun saw his friend break cave,
and cree ing down close to the water’s edge, he
preparer his weapons for use. The Death Shot
should not fall unnvengcd.

He saw the whole affair, and laughed aloud as
his friend retreated with his livin shield. Un-
fortunately Death Shot changed his course, and
to aid him better, Double Dan was obliged to
follow suit. Ere he could reach the right point,
Overton fired his shot, and the bold adventurer
fell into the water.

CHAPTER XXX.
A HEART or FIRE.

THAT was fated to be an eventful night to Mis-
souri Belleuand hcr adventure with the desperate
Death Shot was but a beginning.

She hurried away from the chief’s cabin and
changed her clothes, also discarding her water—
soakcd pistols for another pair. She had no
thought of sleep. The events of that day had
been far too exciting for anything like re use.

As she stood in her doorway, she cou d just
distinguish the two small cabins in which the
prisoners were confined. With a shudder of
strangely-mingled emotions she turned away,
wanderin aimlessly forward, not noticing
whither s e was going until the sound of a low,
smearing laugh broke in upon her reverie. A re-
sentful ight sprung into her eyes as her head
uplifted proudl . She heard her own name
spoken and in he tones of Colonel Overton a
man W cm she loathed and detested, none the
loss that he had of late days assumed an almost
lover-like demeanor whenever chance or his
planning threw them together.

Missouri Belle’s training had not been such as
to prevent her playing the eavesdro per in case
'of necessity, and now, gliding noise essly to the
rear of the rude brush structure, she crouched
down, an eager listener to the startling conversa-
tion between the two men. ‘

Not a word nor a look did she miss. Pressing
close to the chink she drank in their startlin
revelations with breathless interest. Nor dir
she stir when the outcry arose beside the water-
ditch as the trail upon the further shore was
found. The discovery she had made seemed to
have stunned her. Could it be true? She felt
that it was, in her heart of hearts!

Little suspecting this audience, Equality Eph
and Overton retumedto the cabin and resumed
their conversation. And Missouri Belle listened
to the whole of it, never stirring a limb until
the two men clasped hands in ratification of
their diabolical compact. ,

The maiden had heard enough. She arose .' .nd
hastened to her cabin, sinking upon her low cot-
bod and burying her face in her hands. Her
brain was confused and whirlin . She seemed
living a dream. And of; shegknew that she
must think—think sober and clearly.

She did not notice tie noise outside that
heralded the return of the outlaws who had
been sent in quest of the man who had so bold-
ly carried off the body of the Death Shot. It
seemed as though she would lie there motionless
until the dawning of the new day. ‘

 

Her face was white and hard-set as she arose ,

and tossed back her dam hair, and the stead

glow in her dark eyes to d of a flxed and um). - ‘,
terable resolution. She secreted a brace of re— 1

volvers about her person, then extinguished her
light and left the l ttle cabin.

The night was dark and almost starless, but
there was light sufficient for her urpose.
Straight for the prison of the cousins she walks
ed, and accosting the man up ard duty, order-
ed him to open the door. or demand was

ier with the part he, Dan, was cx- ‘

, thought of denying her admission. The inferior
, was dark, but that was exactly what Belle de~
sired. The business she was upon did not admit
of spectatois.

“ Gentlemen, are you awake!" she said, spunk
in distinctly.

Ifirke Howard, recognizing her/voice, prom r»
, ly answered for himself and cousin. Guided
, his voice Belle moved forward and knelt bcsid’d
i them. In a low, barely audible tone she [‘81

sumcd:

i “ Forget what iusscd to—day, and believe that
I am here as a ricnd, to serve and aid you.
You are in great peril. It has just been decid-
‘ ed that you are to die. If you will place your
trust in me, and obey my directions, I promise
to save your lives, and to give you freedom.
,Think quick. There is little time to spare.
“'hut is your answer!"

“It requires no consideration,’
plied Kirkc.
vior."

“And you?" 1wrsistcd the maiden, as Mark
made no reply.

“ Kirko and I go together," was the quiet re.
sponse.

“ Very goodl’7 and as she s oke Missouri Belle
carefully severed their bun s. “As you trust
me, so will I trust you. Here are weu us.
They are loaded carefully, and will not fni you
in case of need. Now listen. There is a man
on guard at the door. He must be silenced be-
fore you can escape. It is barely possible that
‘ he could be taken prisoner without giving the
, alarm, but the ris( would be too great. Ho
1 must be killed! You need have no scruples.
l His hands are red with innocent blood. In
\ slaying him you are simply anticipating the
i hungmau."

There was no reply to this. Missouri Belle
, seemed to divine the thoughts of the young men
by intuition.

“ Is it my fault that my life has been spent in
such company i Until this night I believed these
people were my equals—that I had been born of
and among them. But now I know that my

urcnts were murdered, that I was stolen from
ionest associations, u more infant, to bo reared
among outcasts and criminals. Is it so strange,
then, that I weigh their lives lightly? But so
be it! If on are afraid of soiling your hands, I
myself wi 1 clear the way—"

“ No—that you shall not do,” impulsively ut-
tered Kirke. “ Give me your knife and I will
attend to him.”

“ Very well. You willstand close to the door,
as I pass out. I will arrange it so that his back
is turned toward you. But remember that the
faintest outcry will be ruin, if not death to In
an 5,

Kirke rosscd her hand in silence. At her
commnm he would have dared tenfold the dan-
ger. Cool and self-Contained though his nature
was, his whole heart had one out toward this
strange girl, and he felt t at death would be a
small payment for one look of love from those
luminous eyes.

Missouri Belle tapped at the door, and as the
unsuspicious sentinel opened it, she emerged.
Bus; 0. little exclamation pal-ted her lips, and she

inted across the island, saying:

“ Merciful heavens! what is that?”

The outlaw made no reply. A strong arm
was flung around his nee ,and a long knife
sunk deep down in his heart. There was no
need to repeat the stroke. Death was almost
instantaneous.

" Drag him inside, close the door and follow
me, one at a time,” hurriedly whispered Mia-
souri Belle. '

The cousins obeyed in silence. The maiden led
them around the ed 0 of the island until ncarl
opposite the point w new the crossing was usua -
ly made. She parted a dense clump of bushes
and pushed forth a small do —out. At aslgn
from her the cousins entero . She followed
them, plying the paddle with the skill and silenm
of a veteran scout.

All around them was darkness the most in-
tense. Eyesight was of little service, and she
seemed to rely upon instinct, instead. Be t t
asit may, for several minutes she impelled 0
dug-out through the gloom in silence. Then
I phage was ashgbt shock as the bow touched
an .

“Step out and ‘hold fast," she whispered.
1 “ Th? bottopi is firm enough. There Is no dan-
ger.

Once more it was Kirka who obeyed her.

She led them for some little distance through
the close growing timbers, then paused.

“ Before we go further, I have somethin to
say,” she uttered, in a low, husk voice. “ -
cn, and do not interrupt me. he task I have
set myself is hard enou'rh, without that. I we:
' that youn Mexican lar whom you saved from
the hear. was the mask that met you at the gun
bling house. I went there to obtain the pups:
i you carried. I failed then. but I succeeded
ni ht. I have the papers safely.
to ac them from he hands of EqualityE b.
If he (1 found them you would not be 8.1
now. He meanttokill you, then ‘ posedon
of the fortune b producing ano enhoir." '

“ He could no . I am the only survivor—f'

’ uickly ro-

“I trust you as I we d my Sa-

 

I stole them.

.‘i..fr:'<  . u

.f.‘

   
 
 
 
 
 
  

- «saw-a.— ..c ~

Vacs.

22

“ Not so. Your father is alive. I heard them

say so this very night. And more. You have
a sister living—”

“ There must be some mistake. Both of my
sisters were burned long years ago," said Kirke,

sadly;e

“ t that pass, for the present. Can you
guess why I saved your lives—wh I took so
much trouble for the men whom I be 'eved to be
strangers?”

“ Because you are a woman, with a woman’s
heart.”

“Yes—~but not as you imagine. Oh! it is
hard to utter—bah! I said I would, and so I will!
Listen! To you, I am speaking, Mark Bird. I
had seen you often before that day at San An-
tonio. O ten, yet never witlioutastrange in-
terest. But that day opened my eyes, and I
knew that I loved you—lov‘d you with the
whole power of my soul! I felt that I could die
for one kind word from your lips. Then ima-
gine what a. torture it was to hear you speak as
you did this afternoon! You love her—that
doll-face? Could she have served you as I have?
No! she would have fainted at the mere idea of
running such risk. Mark—I love you! I can—
not live without your love! Do not scorn me—
I am a woman, though I speak so boldly. I
love ou—I love youl”

“ an you not speak, Mark ?" hoarsel demand-
ed Kirke, asickening pain riping is heart.
“Your tongue is usually r881 y enough.”

“What can I say more than I have? I love
Minnie Lamb—l’

“You reject me, then? You laugh at my
love—”

“Not so,” he said, gently. “But I would be
wronging you were to be less open. I am
very grateful—"

“‘Iask for bread, and on offer me a stone!”
and the woman Ian hed, itterly. “ Be it so! I
have overstepped t e bounds of lady-like deco-
rum, and deserve the reproof on have given
me. You love this Minnie mb—but she
shall never know it. She is doomed—J could
have saved her—I intended doing so, but now—
let her suffer as I have suffered! And when
you hear her story, remember that it was your
ove that doomed her to a living death!”

As she spoke, Missouri Belle sprung awa into
the darkness, leaving the cousms fairly ( umb—
founded by her wild outburst. For some min-
utes there was silence. Then Kii‘ke Howard
spoke, his voice gloomy and despondin .

“God forgive you, Mark, for drivmg that

r child to despair. You have broken her
eart—”

“ Nol it is I who should ask forgiveness,” and
the maiden once more stood beside them. “ For-
get all that I have said. I believe I was mad.

am better now. Here, Mr. Howard, are the
papers I took from you. They will be safer in
mu keeping, now. Come. There is a long

_'1 before us, and we must be far away from
here before da dawns.”

“ But—Miss mb?" hesitated Mark.

“She shall be saved We must find Captain
Conway and his Rangers. There is no danger
but we will be in time. Follow me, and keep as
still as possible.”

And the trio pressed on through the night.

 

CHAPTER XXXI.
snrrmo A TRAP.

BmRE ni htfall Dashing Ned had kept his
promise to t 6 Death Shot, and withdrew his
men from the chaparral. His scouts had all
come in, bearing the same report: that the out-
laws had scattered immediately afterthe spring—
ing of their ambush u 11 Fred Meyer and his

company, and covere their trail so thoroughly _

that the closest search failed to unite the broken
threads. The strange disa pearance of Double
Danalso gave Dashing Ne some little uneasi—
ness and when the Rangers finally settled down
in the spot where they intended to spend the
night, their young captain had ample food for
thought.

The night were away, and just before dawn,
the man on guard was hailed in a cautious tone
from out the darkness. Not a little startled,

, for he had been drowsing, the sentinel demand-

ed the password, which was promptly given as
the unknown advanced. There was barely suf—
ficient light for the Ranger to recognize the man
whom Double Dan had introduced and vouched
for.

“Go and arouse your chief, friend,” said the
Death Shot, rapidly. “I have much to tell him,
and I must not run the risk of being seen near
your camp—”

“I am at your service, sir,” at this point in-
terrupted Dashing Ned in person. “ I have been
expecting you.”

‘ ‘ I would have been here sooner but I had a
narrow escape with my life from the Wolves,
and that detained me. If you will 8 are me a
few moments, I think I can make (11 clear to
ygu; You are sure your men can all be trust-
?1

“Reasonably sure; but to remove all doubts,
we will take a little walk in the open

ground."

Pime Pip???"

 

 

 

Beadle?

“Good enou h! now listen. Colonel Overton
captured Miss innie Lamb, and sent her by
Grizzl Paw, the Lipan chief, to Equality Eph
for sa e-keeping. By some means he has found
out the girl’s parents, and has extorted a large
sum of money from them on the promise to re—
store their lost child. The dog never played a
straight game in his life, nor is this an excep-
tion. A dozen words will reveal his ro-
gramme. He, accompanied by Equality ph,
and of course some of the VVoIvcs, is to take
Miss Lamb to the Buffalo Hump, timing their
progress so as to reach there about dusk. One
of his follows is to guide Mr. and Mrs. Marvin
froui San Marcos to the same place, at the same
time. And he has made arrangements with
Whirlwind, the Kiowa, to ambush the whole
party. The chief is to kill Equality Eph, cap-
ture the Marvins and hold them for ransom,
while the youn girl is to become his squaw.
Overton is to e the mono they bring.”

“ As foul a plot as ever heard!” exclaimed
Dashing Ned.

“Is it not? But the dennumnent rests with
you. Your force is stron enough to run the
whole affair if you take t em in detail. Ride
away from mm at once. Get as near to the
Buffalo Hump as you can without arousing sus-
picions. Wait until the red-skins are airlv
settled in ambush; then go for ’em! You will
either wipe them out or run them ofi’. Either
will answer. Then you will take their place.
There will be no danger of discovery, thanks to
the hour set for the exchange. You will hide

our time; I will give the signal for you to

reak cover. All I ask is, that ou articularly
caution your men to in ‘ure neit or verton nor
Equality Eph. Take t em captive, alive. Am
I asking too much ?”

“Not at all,” warm] replied Dashing Ned.
"' I had already resolve to take those two men
alive. Their crimes have been too man and
atrocious for them to escape a public tri and
execution. We great] need just such examples
as they will give. lily—rather than suffer
them to escape, I will kill them.”

“That of course. But if you set your trap
well, I don’t think there is much fear of their
escaping. And now—all is understood, 1 be-
licve?”

“ You say that you will give the signal to us.
You will join us, then, before night?”

“If I do not accompany the outlaws. I have
been among them more than once, and they
looked upon me as their friend. I may try
another of my disguises to-day. Of one thing
you may rest assured. I will be there, with one
or the other party, and I will give 1011 the sig-
nal to close in w en all is ripe. II I ask is,
that you will trust me.”

“ Double Dan’s word is enough for me. You
will find us awaiting your signal.”

“And I Will give it, never fear. New, good-
by till this evening).e The less ground we give
for suspicion the tter. Of course you will
make sure that none of the Kiowas double on
your trail to give the outlaws warning.”

Dashing Ned nodded understandingly, and the
Death Shot sprung into the saddle and paced
swiftly away from the timber island.

As the eastern horizon was paling before the
coming sun the Rangers mounted and defiled
out upon the plain, ridin rapidly toward the
north-west, making a wi e detour, so that the
Wolves, in making for the Buffalo Hump, would
not cross their trail.

It is not necessary to follow them mile b
mile. Their progress was rapid and unimpede ,
and they came to a halt about noon, in a clump
of timber only a few miles from the rendezvous.
Here they unsaddled theic animals and cut them
feed from the tall, rich grass. Not caring to run
the risk of having the smoke of a fire seen by
the Kiowas, the Rangers contented themselves
 eating their jerked-beef in a natural
5 .

Toward the middle of the afternoon Dashin
Ned sent out a couple of the best scouts he h
left, with orders to steal'near enough to the
Buffalo Hump to note the movements of the Ki-
owas, and to return as soon as the knoll was
fairl occupied.

W ile waitin the result, he lay down and
caught a short s e63}, which he greatl needed.

The sun was st' two hours big when the
scouts returned, and reported. The Kiowas had
occupied the knoll, approaching it upon foot,
having concealed their horses in some other
5 t.
pThis was even better than Dashing Ned had
dared to hope for, and it was with a full assur-
ance of complete success that he ave the word
to mount. As they rode into to] view of the
Hum , Dashing Ned led his men inacourse that
woul , if maintained, carry them several hun-
dred yards to the north of the mound. This
maneuver, added to the fact that there was no
water upon the Hump, he hoped would delude
the red-skins into believing he had no idea of

ausing there, and induce them to lie low in
o s of totally escaping observation.
e’result proved'how closely he had calcu-
lated. When the Rangers were fairly abreast the
Hump, not a sign was given to show that an
enemy occupied it.
Wheeling his animal, Dashing Ned rode

 

 

.—

straight for the tree-capped moundhelosoly lol-
low by his men, uttering their wild slogan.
Never were cunning red-skins more completely
surprised. Almost before they could realim that
danger threatened, the dreaded Ran erl were
thundering up the hillside. Even W irlwind,
daring warrior though he was, made little at
tempt at fighting.

The Kiowas are horse Indians. ~Plate thou.
afoot, and they are com letel ataloss. A dozen
good rough-riders can and e five times their
own num r.

Thus it was in the case in uestion. The Kn»
was discharged a hasty an ineffective volley
at the dyelling, charging Rangers, then broke
and do in utter confusion. he Ran rs, in-
veterate haters of all Indians as we 1 they
might be, pressed the fugitives close and showed
them no mercy. To be overtaken meant
death.

But for one thrilling incident the war-party
would have been annihilated. Whirlwind, foreL
most among the fugitives, suddenly fell as
thou h shot. His nearest pursuer recognizin
the c ieffain’s plume, paused beside him, ben ~
ing over in the saddle for his son] . Instead, he
met death. A long knife reach his heart, as
Whirlwind clutched his throat. A brief strug-
gle——then the Kiowa leaped upon the snorting
horse and with ashrill yell that promised future
ven eance, dashed awa at top speed.

ith one accord the Iiangers started in chase,
but the horse was a good one, and fearing that
the chase would last too long for the success of his
plans, Dashin Ned sounded the recall. Thanks
to his perfect iscipline, he was obeyed, but the
surviving Kiowas ad soimproved their respite,
that the slaughter was ended. '

 

CHAPTER XXXII.
.‘rnE TRAP SPRUNG.

TEE day had fairly dawned before any of the
occupants of Black Swamp Island so much as
suspected the significant changes that had taken
place in their very midst. Nor would they even
then had not one of their number, as he slouch—
ed idly past the cabin in which the prisoners
had been confined, noticed a dark bloodstain
upon the slab—door. From this came the investi-
gation that threw the entire camp into an up
roar.

The prison had no other occupant than one
dead man. The prisoners were gone. Whither:e
who had aided them? for without such assist-
ance they could not possibly have escaped.

These were the questions the Chaparral Wolf

'asked. He was not left long in suspense. Upon

the soft mud where the fugitives had entered
the dug-out, their foot rints were too clear not.
to be easily read. An word was passed around
that Missouri Belle had released the prisoners,
and had accompanied them in their flight.

Equality E h seemed fairly stunned by this
discovery. e could sooner have doubted him-
self than the fidelity of the girl whom he had
taught to call him father.

“ Could it be that she contrived to eavesdrop
us, last night?” muttere Overton. “ If so—if
she heard all you con essed, that would ac—
count for her deserting you to try and save her
brother.”

Thou h reluctantly, Equality Eph was forced
to adop this conclusion. In a white, sullen rage
he sent a dozen of his men out in every direc-
tion with orders to spare no pains in the
search.

“ Bring her in alive,” he said, “ and the others.
also, if possible. But never leave the trail until
you have them safe, dead or alive I” '

Only for the arguments of Colonel Overton,
the chief would have joined the search in per-
son, so intense was his anxiety. The half-breed
seemed most concerned about his own particu-
lar game, and finally succeeded in reawakening
the interest of his confederate, and their prepara-
tions were resumed. Early in the morning
scouts had been sent out, who returned and re-
ported that the Rangers, under Dashing Ned,

ad left the vicinity, eVidently disgusted with
their ill-success.

Overwn seemed in high glee as their party,
twenty in number, rode forth from the Swamp
and struck out across the open prairie for the
rendezvous. He rode between the Chaparfiil
Wolf and Minnie Lamb. The former was sul—
len, apprehensive; the latter pale, care-worn and

Si ent.

Suddenly Overton drew rein, rising high in
his stirrups, peering keenly ahead.

“I caught a glimpse of a human head,” he
explained. “ It ducked down in the grass, yen!
der. It may be your fugitives, Wolf. Let your
men spread out—”

Equality Eph did not wait .for the conclusion
of these orders. The suggestion seemed to set
him all afire. With amotion of his hand he
caused his men to spread out in a semicircle,
while he and Overton dashed directly ahead.

The watchful eggs of the half-breed had not
deceived him. he drew near the marked
spot, a wild-looking figure arose from the tall
grass, and, screaming shrilly, leveled a long
musket at ids head! Y

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

mo weapon exploded whom he was not tcu l
yardo away. Overton fell back upon the I
haunch of his horse. while the wild figure before !
him was hurled end-over—cnd by the viciously— 3
kicking musket.

Equality Eph stared in mute amamnient,
for they saw that this scarecrow-like be—
ing was a woman! Nor was their sur—
prise lessened when Overton hatlcss, but
unharmed b the tremendous charge of buck-
shot, dashm forward, and stoopmg, raised
the woman to her feet with a choking laugh.
As he did so, a man uprose from the tall grass
and struck at him, but fcebly and with his left
hand. Minnie Lamb added her mite by riding 1
forward and facing the outlaws as though she
would protect the two wayfarers.

“You owe me a hat, good Nancy,” laughed
Overton, as he gave his captive a gentle shake
in order to settle her clothes properly about her.
“But I’ll forgive you, seeing my brain-pan is
still whole.”

“Oh, ou Hector Lamb!” gasped Mistress
Nancy, nderly caressing her battered nose.
“Wait till your arm get’s well! I b’lievo you
loaded that pesky musket to shoot out back’ards
——you pizcn critter!”

‘ or a few minutes all was confusion, but at ‘
last thomatter was made clear. The two Lambs
had had anything but a felicitous time since we
saw them last. Untriddcn by the Rangers, they
still endeavored to keep upon their track, but in
the darkness the mu 0 ridden by Hector fell,
and broke its rider’s right arm, rolling clear
over the luckiess settler. For hours he lay like
one dead, and Nancy, while seeking to restore
him, allowed the mules to escape her. When
Hector did recover his senses, he could not arise,
and here they were forced to remain ever since.
‘Vhat the result would have been, had not the
\Volves stumbled upon them can only be con-
jectured. Nancy recognized Minnie a prisoner,
and forgetting all else, she sought to avenge
their wrongs and sufferings upon Colonel Ovcr-

ton.

The half—breed appeared to bear them no
malice, for though rst disarming them, he
caused two of the \Volves to “double up,” thus
giving the Lambs a mount. This effected, )1‘0-
grass was resumed Overton regulatin t eir
pace so as to reach Huff‘an Hum at twilight.

When within a. few hundreti) yards of the
mound he bade the party hold their places
while he advanced to reconnoiter. He ran
lightly up the hill and disappeared from View.
A minute later a small ball of fire shot u ) above
the tree-tops, and then Overton returned.

“ All is well,” he said, addressing Equality
Eph. “I saw my man and the Marvins wait-
ing upon the prairie beyond for my signal.
They will be at the top iicarl y as soon as we are.
Come! but remember my instructions.”

The Chaparral Wolf growled an as cut. He
was still troubled by the defection of Missouri
Belle, and there was an ugly presentiment of
coming evil troubling him.

Overton led the way up the hill and into the
little glade that crowned the Buffalo Hump.
There was a grim smile upon his hard-set fea-
ture: as be cast a swift glance around upon the
circle of trees and bushes. If there was an am-
bush, no ordinary eye could distinguish the
fact.

At neariy the same moment the Marvins cn—
tered the glade from the opposite side. Their
agitation was plainly visi 6, but before the

uestion which trembled upon their lips could
find utterance, Colonel Overton step ed to the
side of Equality Eph, and clutching iis throat
with a vise-like ripe, thrust a cocked revolver
against his temp e.

“ At the first motion you die the death of a
dog!” he cried, steriily. “Advance, Captain
Conway. and secure your prisoners!”

“Surrender all I” littered a. commanding
voice, and Dashing Ned sprung into the open—
ing, “You are surrounded. The slightest
show 0,1; resistance Will be the signal for my men
to fire! I

A circle of stern-browed Rangers incloscd the
astounded party; their rifles were cocked and
leveled. Even the most desperate of the out-
laws saw that they must submit or die. And
with one accord they raised their hands above
their heads in token of submission.

“ You have sold us, curse you!” hissed Equal-
ity Eph, making a desperate effort to escape his
ca tor.

he attempt was fatal. In the struggle a pis-
tol ex loded and the notorious outlaw fell dead,
shot t irough the brain.

This was the sole casualty. The Wolves were
disarmed and pinioned securely. Then Minnie
was presented to the Marvins as their long-lost
child. But another surprise was in store. Vith
trembling fin ers the old man slip ed up her
ri ht sleeve. be round arm showe pure and
w iite. The disappointed parent turned aside
with a bitter 'Oan. '

“ This is no%10ur child! Our Julia has a deep
Bear of a burn upon her right arm." .

“I can tell you,” cried Nancy Lamb, excited-

11V. “She is—thc child of the murdered Isaac
Howard—J

“And I an Isaac Reward!” came a deep
voice.

 

«a

‘ Equality Ephs

.23

 

CHAPTER XXXIII.
“CHANG n PARTNERS !"

“YES, I am indeed Isaac Howard, the man
whom all the world—save one faithful friend——

i has considered dead for sixtccn years!" resunwd

the man who had played the part of Coloucl
Overton. “ The story is a long and painful one,
but it must be told in order to explain and jus—
tify the part I have played of late years, as an
avenger.

“It has long been believed that the Kiowas

‘ attacked and burned my ranch, and that all of

the occupants were murdered and their bodies
consumed in the flames. But three persons es«

‘ capcd. My oldest son was absent on a visit; my

youngest daughter was rescued from death by

, one of the men who followed the lead of this

carrion—Equality Eph as lie was last known. I
was the third person. The bones that were bu-
ricd for mine was a traveler who put up with us
for the night.

“I esca ed; but how, I never knew. I re—
member t e alarm, remember a great crash
upon my head, and that is all. When I awoke
to life again, it was over twelve years later! I
was among the Kiowas, a lunatic, all these
years.

“I watched my chance and effected my es-
cape. I came here at once, I learned that my
whole family had been murdered. Those whom
I qucstioncd could tell me nothing of my son

I Kirke, nor could I find the family with whom he

had been visiting.

“Then I gave my life over to one object; that
of revenge. It would be too long were I to tcll
you how I manu ed to strike the right trail.
Enough that I (lif , at last, and that I markcd
out over man of the midnight assassins for
death. Iywas greatly aided by my one friend
——Double Dan—”

“ That’s me an’ my twin brother!” came the

uecr double voice of the scout, as he entered
t ie rlado, followed by three other persons.

“ on here! where did you leave your pri-
soner?”

“ Safe aii’ sound—tied u )likOfl. pig iua pack!“
rinncd Double Dan. “ done fetched some
olks to see ye. Miss Missoury iiclle, Mister
Mark Bird an7 Kirke Howard, csquire—mnko
ve known to Double Sight the Death Shot, or
ed rc—”

“ ‘top, friend,” interposed the Death Shot.
“ Let me finish my explanation, first. I will be
as brief as possible. I made use of many dis-
guises in my work, and being a fair vcuti'ilo-
quist, a dabbler in chemistry as well, I managed
to get up avery respectable mystery. I pro-
curcd me a very fine air-pistol, of long range
but small bore, and it aided me not a. little. The
wounds made by its balls were so small that
onl a close investi ation could discern what
ha dealt the fatal 1) ow. I only used this when
I wished to entirely escape observation.

“Not until last year id I sue ct that I had
a daughter living. Some wor s that Colonel
Overton drop ed gave me the clcw, Until quite
recently I believed that the young lady known
as MiSSouri Belle was my child; and E uality
Eph believed it to his death. But in this 10 was
deceived by his fellow criminal Overton. Ho
it was who stole your child and burned your
house, Mr. Marvin. He brought your child to
Kansas and there gave her to Mr. and Mrs.
Lamb.”

“And now it’s my turn,” interposed Mistress
Nancy. “You shot 11 , Hector Lamb! I’m
goin’ to tell cverythin’ know. These foiks’ll
know how to make ’lowances fer people what
was x-tarvin’ to death.”

And Nancy did tell.
them to kee. Mr. Marvin’s child and raise it as
her own. my they wandered to Texas. Then
came a hard time. They were literally starv-
ing. T0o proud to beg, one dark night they so]-
licd out to their nearest neighbor’s, and using an
ax, Hector Lamb killed two fattening hogs.
They were caught at this work by Overton and
another man, and they fled, leaving their ax bo—
liiiid them. ,

That same night the Howard ranch was burn-
ed. And just before dawn Overton came to
them, bearing a little girl, which he wished
them to exchange for the otherchild. Thcy
dcmurrcd, but he threatened them with-ex )0-
sure as hog-thieves. The begged for time or
they had learned to love t 6 child dearly. That
same morning the report spread that the neigh-
bor whom they had attempted to rob, was found
dead in his bed slain by the stroke, of an ax.
And ()vcrton threatened to swear the crime
upon them unless they agreed to perform his
will in every particular. Though this murder
was almost lost sight of in the wild excitement
which followed the Howard tragedy, the Lambs
knew that it would require but a word to set the
mobu n them.

“ i e couldn’t do nothin’. He had the ax we
used to kill the hogs with. He said he’d sw’ar
he see us comin’ out 0’ the man’s house, in the
Hi ht. So we could only give way to his
wi l.

“ He told us that in a few days a man would
call for the child, an’ told us how we might
know he was the right one. Ontel he did come,
we might keep the ydung ’un mighty close, so

How Overton bribed

 

nobody 'd ever see it. He made us change thur
clothes. an7 sw‘ar to puss off our real Minnie fer
t’other, an’ the man who axed for it. We did
jist as he said. A week a’terwnrds, the nu"!
come. llo give us the si 'n that showed he was
the right ici'son. An’ w en he wont away, in-
took the child with him.”

The l.)cath Shot quietly led the. two maidens
forward, and spoke to Nancy Lamb. ,.
f;;,AI‘0 these the two children you have spoken '
o ; . '

"I kin sw’ar to this one,” said the woman, ..
drawing Minnie to her side. “She is the one
Overton brung last: the one I ’most kin aw’ar is
the. daughter of Isaac Howard. As for t’other,
of she is the baby I ’tended fer better’n two'
years, she’s got a nu! scar on her right arm,
above the elbow.”

\Vith a wondering cry, Missouri Belle pushed
up her sleeve. Even iutho gathering gloom the
si rnificaiit scar could be distinguished.

‘here was a sobbing cry—and Mrs. Marvin
fcll upon the neck of her long—lost dau hter,
while the trembling arms of the husban and
fath r encircled them both.

Respecting their emotions, the remainder of'
the party withdrew to a little. distance, when
the Death Shot resuan his interrupted
story.

There is no particular necessity for us to f0}-
low his explanations step by step. A war or
two concerning those points which liavo been
more particularly brought before the reader
must sufiicc.

From the hour in which his suspicions were
urouscd that his daughter lived, Isaac Howard
never lost sight of his prey. Da and night he
dogged them, unable to rest uiitiilie learned the
truti. Hc it was that rescued Equality Eph,
when that scoundrcl was precipitated upon the
bull‘s back in the circus ring, because he would
not that his encniy should die with his secret
untold. Ho it was that dogged the spy to the
outlaws’ quarters that same night, and cut
short his report with a shot from his air- istol
through the barred window. He also she the
fare dealer, and James Brown, the convicted
traitor. These three men were of those who had
murdered his family, years before. '

He visited Equality Eph at Black Swamp, iii—
tendinnr to play the role of' Colonel Overton, but
the \‘V'hlf, suddenly aroused from a troubled
81001;. gnvc a yell of alarm, and to save his own
life {oward was obliged to strike him down.
As he fled for safety, be grasped Missouri Belle,
not knowing who she was, at the time.

As the reader knows, ()verton, believing his
shot fatal, plunged into the water to rescue the
rirl. Instead, he was grappled by both Double
Dan and Howard. In the struggle that ensued,
Overton was stabbed and choked sonselms. A '
single word set Double Dan to work; and while
Howard rescued Missouri Belle, his friend was
dragging Overton throuin the swamp to where
the trusty black horse was tethered.

How boldly the Death Shot layed his as-
sumed part, how completelyrrlie averted all
suspicion, have been shown. om what Dou—
ble Dan had heard when s ying ii in the real
Overton, added to the no .es in ie captured
memorandum-book, it was can for the Death
Shot to deceive the Cha arral 011'.

Double Dan, while hi ing with his prisoner in
the swamp, overheard the stormy scene be—
tween Missouri Belle and the cousins, and
watching his chance, made himself known to
them, and told them a portion of what was in
the wind. As a natural result, it was decided
that they should proceed to the Buffalo Hump.

 

With a few brief remarks, our story proper is
ended. The maiden whom we have known this
far as Minnie Lamb was recognized as the
daughter of Isaac Howard, and the sister of
Kirke. That she was half smothered with ca—
resses may readily be imagined. Nor was Mark
Bird at all backward in claimin his share, as a.
cousin. Dashing Ned added is congratula-
tions, but Minnie noted, with a sharp iang, that
he was far more (lee ily interested in er whom
we have known as issouri Belle. The warm
glow in his fine eyes, betrayed by the crackling
camp—fire, she could not mistake. .

The situation was a peculiar one. Minnie
lived Dashing Ned; he loved Missouri Belle, as
did Kirko Howard, also; Missouri Belle loved
Mark Bird, while he had eyes only for his
cousin Minnie.

But “ time works wonders,” and. it assurm'ly .
did in this case. lieforea year had rolled i}','_
the cards in Love’s pack were shufll d and dealt;
anew. Partners were changed, nd at least;
four of the players were completely satisfied.
Within the same month, there were weddings:
in Texas and in Missouri. Dashing Ned settled
down as a farmer and stock-raiser, in the latter
State, and “Missouri Belle ” presides over his
growing household. In Texas the old ranch
was rebuilt, and Minnie consented to make
Mark Bird happy. As for Kirke, he lives with
them, a confirmed old bachelor. He has never
forgot/tom his first love, and he will carry her
image wx h him to the ,rave.

Double Dan is still alive, and nearly as swift-
footed as ever. When he and his “ twai-

~

brother ” go under, there will be more than one
mourning household in Texas. ,

That sum!- night, after the general explana-
tion and "clearing up,” Isaac Howard and
Double )Ini mounted and rode rapidly toward
Black Swamp. 'l‘hey reached the place where
Colonel Overton had been confined, but it was
empty! By some means he had slipped his
mods. and mounting the famous black stallion,
had tied for his life. 7 But th Iugh ‘l'or yours his
fate was a mystery to the whites, the truth
came out at last.

CHAPTER XXXIV.
HUNTED DOWN.

A BLACK stallion is running low and swift be-
neath the blazing noonday sun. Its silkcn coat
is stained with sweat, with foam and with
blood-blood not all its own. The rider upon
its back is wounded, though he scarcely feels the
smart. He turns his head and glances to the
rear. A grating curse parts his lips. The hunt-
ed light in his snake-like eyes grows deeper, his
face seems thinner and more haggard.

Yet far away, but han ing upon his trail like
human bloodhounds, ri e a full score of vin—
dictive warriors, armed with lance and riflc,with

int upon their faces and blood in their eyes.

ey have marked their prey and the chase will
end onl in death.

The ugitive turns to his noble horse. He
tightens the reins, strokes the dripping neck,
iriPefllKS encouragineg in the small, )ointed ear.

he stallion tosses his proud head an answers the
call. For a minute his mi hty muscles play like
exquisitely-tom red stee spring: b ace is
devoured. after rod is un him him in
those deer-like leaps. And the t 'n lips of the
fugitive curl away from his intcd teeth, as
he casts an exultant glance bac at his pursuers.
He begins to taste the sweets of freedom and re-
newed hope.

Again the black stallion tomes its head. It
utters a low, husky whimper. It cannot breathe
freely. A cruel cord seems tightening around
its throat. It turns its head as though to ask
its rider the meanin of this strange spell that
cramps its limbs an oppresses its lungs.

The only answer is a curse, as the hunted man
drives his heels into the steaming flanks. He
well knows the reason; and so does the blood-
nounds upon the trail. The bending grass-
blades are 5 tted here and there with crimson
blotches. hey know that the end is near.
And with exultant yells they urge their labor-

gx’mies on.

a fugitive is Turn-over, the half-breed; the
ursuers are Whirlwind and his Kiowa braves.
ince early dawn the chase has lasted. There

was one rapid volle as the half-breed swept

past their covert. e Kiowas set out in hot
,pursuit, nothin discouraged by the ease and

' rapidit withw 'ch the black stallion distanced
them a first. They mark the scarlet trail, and
know that those frothy drops came from near
the seat of life. And as the ours pass on, they
gain, slowly but surely upon their victim.

The nature of the ground is changing. Turn-
over rises in his stirrupsand casts a. sw1ft glance

ahead. The level plain becomes broken and
more diflicult. There is scattered timber ahead
of him. He urges his pantin steed up the as-
cent. then lances back. he Kiowas are
a readin ou in a semicircle as though to cut

m oflf ould he atteni t todeviate from a di-
rect course. Why shou d the ex t him to of-
fer them this advantage? ure y the trail is
open in front?

The timber is scattered in groups of two and
three trees. Any one of them would afford a
good chance for a fight for life if only he was

‘armed. A revolver—even a ' a would be
worth a fortune, now!

Straight across the lateau rides the fugitive.
Ho dare choose no do or course. Therlndians
are too near his heels. Ri ht ahead is a
thick clump of timber. Beyon this the ground
rises, wild and broken, covered with huge mass-
es of rock, The eyes of the hunted man listen.
Once there he surely can find a hiding- ace so
secure that not even such human bl hounds
can ferret him out.

Thinking thus, he urges his failing horse on—
riding raight to his doom!

. . He p unges through the timber, then wrench-
es in his horse with a furious curse. Right at
his foot lies a frightful abyss, five hundred feet
in depth, the perpendicular sides bristling with
sharp points and angles. The chasm is full five
. and wenty feet in width. The rocks rise ab-
'- ruptly upon the further side. There is scarcely
foothold for a horse after such a leap. But; the
exultant yells of his bloodthirsty pursuers are
ringing in his ears. Unarmed, certain death
awaits him; there is justachance by attempting
the frightful leap.

He urges his horse to the brink, but it refuses
v theleap. it seems to know that its weakened

powers are unequal to the task. '

Not yet does OVOI'YOII despair. He leaps to
' U , l

‘7 Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

 

the ground, flings his coat over the stallion’s
eyes, then runs him forward and over the brink.
End over and the poor brute falls, until the
jagged I‘m-ks below grant him a. merciful death.
()vcrton dares not wait to See the result. His
enemies are too near. He runs lightly along
the edge of the chasm until he reaches a. long
hollow log that lies rotting upon the ground.
Into this he crowds his body. The chance
is1 indeed a faint one; but there is nom-
ot Ier.

'l‘hc Kiowas burst through the timber, expch
ing to seize their prey, for right Wcll they knew
what a formidable barrier lay in the course of
his flight. And as he lies in his close prison,
Turn-over hours their cries and exclama-
tions of wondering disappointment. He can see
them clustering around the fresh hoof-prints.
He can see them peering down into the vast
depth, and his heart grows sick as he fears they
wi I discover his deception. He closes his eyes
as Whirlwind glances toward his covert. He
fears lest their glitter may betray him. But as
the chief speaks, fresh hope springs up in his
heart.

“Turn-over is laughing at the Kiowas. He
has leaped his horse over, and is now far away.
But his soul shall blacken in the smoke of
Whirlwind’s 0d e—I have sworn it!”

“We will find is trail upon the other side. and
run him down. His big horse is badly wounded.
The coyotes will crack his bones before the sun
goes down. Let us gol”

“There is time enough. Our ponies are weary
and need food and rest. “'6 Will wait here, and
eat. I am hungry. See! yonder lies a dry log.
It will make a good fire!”

The heart of the half—breed grows sick. He
knows now that his place of refuge had been
discovered, Unarmed, nothing but death awaits
him. He will be dragged forth and ruthlessly
butchered—perhaps aftercrue] tortures. He al—
most envies the fate of his poor horse.

Even in that moment he wondered that he
should find it so hard to resign himself to death.
He had so often laughed at it—so often dared it
face to face, through pure recklessness. But
then he was armed. He could return blow for
blow. That made all the difference.

He ered forth from his refuge. Whirlwind
and t ree stout braves stood with ready wea-
ans, though in seeming carelessness, before

'm. The other braves are bringingdried sticks
and grass and piling them upon the log. He
hears the clicking of flint and steel, and the
sound sends a sickeningthrill through his heart.
Those sounds are to him what fastening down
the coma-lid must be to one lying in a death-
like trance, ready for the grave.

He knows when the sparks catch upon the
tinder. He can tell when these are blown into a
flame-and he hears the faint crackling as the
serpent-tongued flames lick up the dry grass,
winding in and out through the only too readily
ignited fagots.

And now the dusky fiends raise their wild
doices in the triumphant scalp-song, and as the
bright flames shoot higher and higher, the
doomed victim hears them dancing before his
fiery prison in mad glee.

From that moment his nerves become steeled.
He knows that death is inevitable, but he will
rob his destroyers of their choicest morsel of re-
venge. They shall not' boast that they killed
his courage, as well as his body. Since die he
must, he would die in sullen silence. '

The flames leap higher. The heat grows more
intense. The log is one blazing mass of coals.
The suffocating eat fills the hollow. It scorch-
es the sullen wretch. His face and scalp are
one great blister. His blood seems boiling in
his veins. Wild visions of the black past arise
before him. He is assailed b a thousand weird
ghantoms. Devils aregrapéiéngwith him. He

hts—but in vain. They g him forth from
his blazin refupe— ‘

A horri le ell bursts from his lips, and ren-
dered insane E! the frightful torture he works
his wa out o the, fiery circle. As 6 spririgs
to his eat, his armeuts burst into flame. c
is a mass of livmg fire! .

The savages range themselves in a semicircle,
of which the ed 9 of the chasm forms the
chord. As the hazing, maddened half-breed
rushes forward, he is met and turned back by
the rifle-barrels and lance—butts of the wildly
exulting savages. Time and again is he thus re-

Then—for one brief instant his brain seems
to clear. He glares swiftly around him. He
rushes to the brink of the' abyss. He rises in
the air—shoots forward—alights fairly upon the
further bank! .

But his wars are exhausted in that\ mighty
effort.‘ 6 toners—sinks down upon his knees.
A fragment of rock gives way beneath his
weight. He catches u n his breast. Inch by
inch he slips down. 9 lights in desperate Sl-
lleiige for his life. But the fates are against

l

One wild scream of horror—a swift-falling
form from which the flames burst out anew—a
faint thud I

Turn-over, the half-breed, was dead!

 

w

Beadle’s Dime Lihriii.

116 BLACK PLI'ME. THIS DEVIL on THE SEA. By Col.
1’. lngraliznn  . . .. ..
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118 Tm: Brianna CAPTAIN. By J. Il.lngrnh.;m.
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196 LA MARMOSET. B Albert . Aiken... .. . 1
197 REvoLvnn Ron. y Josoph E. Badger, Jr...
198 Tar. SKELETON SesooNER. By P.1ngruham.
199 DIAMOND DICK. By Buckskin Sam. . .. .
200 THE RIFLE RANGERs. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
201 Tnn PIRATE or rm; Pucnns. 13y Badger.
202 (.‘ACTUS JACK. By Captain Mark *ilton.....
203 Tnn DOUBLE DETECTIVE. By A. W. Aiken“
204 BIG Foo'r WALLACE. By Buckskin Sam 
mi) THE GAMBLER I lRATE. By Col. P. lngraham.
2X5 ONE EYE, TEE CANNONEER. By \\ hitmkcr.
x07 OLD HARD HEAD. 13 Philip S. Warns . ..
20% 'I‘nE Warm: Cnmr. y Capt. Mayne Reld..
.109 Rock FARLEY. By Edward Willett . . . . . . . . .. 1
:13 lJI'CCANLIza sts. By Prentiss Inrmham...
2311 'l'rL' ansovnv SPORT. B Ca t. Whittaker.
212 THE szos 'I‘IoEns. BV Dc 'skin Sam.... 1
"IR 7"": Wu: "‘1‘". B" Can‘ni" Mavnc Reid.
214 Tm: Two Coon Bron'rs. By Wm. R. Evster.
215 PARSON JIM. By Captain Fred. Whittaker.
216 Tm: (,‘oRsAIII PLANTER. By Col. lngraham.
217 THE SERPENT or EL PAso. By Buckskin 1

Sam 
218 Talc WILD HI‘NTREss. By Clipt.’ Mayne Reid.
2219 Tan ScORPION BROTHERS. Capt. Wilton.
2% THE SPECIER YACHT. By (.‘0 . P. ngraham.
221 DESPERATE Drxn. By Buckskin Sam... _.
2m BILL, THE BLIzzAnD. By Edward Willet .. 1
223 (‘ANroN DAVE. By Ca tain Mark Wilton...
M BLACK BEARD. By (‘0 . Prentiss Ingrahnm..
225 ROCKY MOUNTAIN AL. By Buckskin Sam...
2% MAD HussARs. By Captain .Frcd. Whittaker.

227 Brcxsnor BEN. B ‘aptam Mark Wilton. 00
2:23 THE MAIwoN. By apt. Mayne Reid ....  10c
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