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$2.50 a Year.‘

Vol I FRANK STARR & CO. PUBLISHERS, 7 N0 1'

N0. 4] I’LATT STREET, NE‘V YORK.

   

 

 

Price, Ten Cents. Copyrighted 1877, by FRANK STARE & Co. Published every Two Weeks.

 

A Hard Crowd; or, GentlemanSam’sSister.

v A THRILLING TALE BY THE AUTHOR OF “ TIGER DICK.”

 

 

        

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“GAVE,” 1IHr‘rNI Pnkr‘r Tum. {hr Missourian’s sm‘nnd. The room was as still as (Imfh. The S'pm-(afors Mood wifh palefam’s, baled bran”: and
lmnds I'lt'IH'hI'I/ nr'm' lhvir weapons, with (ha! ins-find by which. in momsz of such infmmp raw-ilrnwnf. every hruh' sfands on his guard. Every eye
u'ux riru/crl mm: the conh'stants—fvcry heart stood still—all felt (ha! the mart (wo wounds would ushor in a double death—Page 3

 

 

‘ “I!” :31)"; {lg

‘ The New York “Litter;

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‘ A Hard; Crowd;

 GENTLEMAN SAM’S SISTER.

r at THE AUTHOR or “ Tisha DICK."

' ' .CHAPTER I.
I - BETWEEN T‘VO FIRES.
OMAHA was at the meridian of her glor as

 

 

   
    
   
   
   
       
   
     
    
    
  
   
    
       
  
     
    
  
   
   
      
       
      
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
 
   
   
 
    
    
     
   
  
   
  
 
  
  
   

I Every man was his own judge and executioner,
‘  ‘ . ' uses that more particularly affected himself.

‘ ‘re the public freedom was invaded a short

‘ shrift'and a long rope were the unfailing cor-
' ‘- rective. A fit emblem of law, in that delectable

‘ region, would have been a running noose, with

' . bowie-knife and pistol crossed in the center.

‘ .  5 - In the low groggcrics and gambling hells of

of society—villains of ever
of crime—men who carrier
hand and were ready,
to lodge a bullet in t c
the heart of their fellows. To a den of this de-
scription I invite the reader‘s attention.
_ It was a long room, its low ceiling dingy with
 smoke, the monotony of its rude walls relieved
Z‘f’ here , and there by cuts from the illustrated pa-
 « pers and cheap prints in colors portraying
[scenes in the life of a sporting man. At one
- ,' side was the bar, with its tall decanters and in-
‘ “*P'rverted goblcts bearing lemons in the hollow of
‘~ . irbases—its mirror covered with link mus-
-keto-barring, flanked by pictures chic y notice-
 able for their glaring colors and indelicacy—
.. :and its presiding genius, the stereotyped bar-
 "tender, with carefully Oiled hair, waxed mus-

s lade and variety

9:

w

/ sleeves) and flashing bosom-pin, sleeve-buttons
» ,and seal ring.

', ' ht; but the fog that enveloped everything
‘T w: hout was scarcely lnoro dense than the to-
f (to-smoke that pervaded the room. The tin
reflectors cast the light of smoky lamps over a
~ - ' motley crowd. Some lounged against the bar.
~ ' Others sat at tables, most of them whiling the
 . .time with cards. Still others sat or stood in un-
' .. 5" social solitude, with their ci lll'S and thoughts
for their only companions. no individual was
Wag his skill with the bowie-knife, throwing
‘ it at a quid of tobacco which adhered to the
w, doorpost ' and when the keen point cleft the
' ' quid fairly in twain he smiled grimly as he
'. imagined It a human cart.
1' 'At'a table a little withdrawn from the rest
. at two men with whom we will first make ac-
‘ uaintance. Their dress was of rude material,
. that of the men by whom they were sur-
_‘ rounded but more cleanly and in better repair.
' ' .This and their superior intelligence showed that
v, the were wont to move in a higher lane of
.' urination. Indeed, in an eastern ci y their
5. presence in such a den would have provoked
g: ,suspicious comment; but in this rude country
 inhere‘all distinctions were leveled, they pamed
.. 'w y unnoticed.
e-gentleman (for they were evidently en-

,— eyes range over the occupants o the room, said,

4,7w1'th a half smi e:

, ’ “ There’ll be some hard customers to deal with
.fi the Judgment Day, if the orthodox view is
'cill‘rect ” ‘

The settled melancholy of the other’s face
ligpte‘ned a trifle, as he replied: .
:1 agree With you major.”
, '.“Hushl” admonis ed the other, guardedly,
_ jandhe slouched his hat lower over his eyes—-
_ fi‘ no titles in such a place as this. I told on I
virwdnld show you a nest of rattlesnakes. hat
" do on think of them?”
-. hard light litteredin the eyes of the other,
. “and his beard lipqmvered, as if with bitter
{memories as he replied:
, WM 9 led me to traverse the slums of
New ork, ve into Baltimore’s darkest dens
yof infam , fathom the filth of New Orleans—I
. :haVeseoK men whose utter wretchedness was
more marked; but about these men there is
mm Iwhetlgertit is that die are boldng
; sa --1 seemsasi eywou o
mead daylight what the others wait for the
 darkness!» cover.”
I;  “They’re bout as bad as they make ’em, I
/ fancy,” hug ed the other. “ You are a doctor
" mea make work for you at any moment
(wp‘ugly- ooking a potion as you will meet
With anywhere. But let us hear what
. .- about there at the bar.”
nous ‘fellow with sha

   

  
 

they are

  

     

ggy brows and
I) ~ .

tobacco-stain; ed beard was speaki .
., V “I reckon the galoot what stepgs on Mimouri
Bill’s toes had better gitihis measure took the
' '3&W$h& was“... “muds‘html .5
, u e w vs 9 '
' “ :lfiomtlhu Opiniend hi ‘ h l:
,r w, e‘cussu in scec’so
 arml suddent, he’d beva two ur three
.afore he. made up his mind it was him,’
another, whose vivacity ,o‘ imagin-
/’. a, I, " e 1‘

tax)“. 

   
 
 
  

 
  
 
 

  

  

. ' the city were to be met the ver selun and (ircgs ‘

their lives in their ‘
“at the drop of the hat,” ‘
brain or drive a knife to l

1 th‘ ' ', 1' l t' bl
the “hardest place” east of Denver City. ‘ ere was nothmg alticuaryno icca ea ut

Deeds of violence were of daily occurrence. ‘

tion elicited sund
assent from his ru 6 auditors.

“Who is this hyar boss sharp that every-
bod ’s laying their chips on?”

Tie question was put in a careless tone of
voice by a man who leaned against the further
end of the bar, with one foot thrown across the
other, the toe touching the floor. He was of
medium height, with dark wavy hair and clean—
shaven face, all save a mustache which followed
the curve of his lips. As he stood at re 0

him; but a keen 0 server might have marked
the firm lines about the mouth and the clear
li ht of the gray eyes.

hat any one should be uninformed as to so
notorious a character as Missouri Bill occa-
sioned universal sui rise, and the questioner
iinmcdiatel found himself the center of obser-
vation. His question was answered by the first
speaker, in a tone calculated as intended, to
impress the bearer with the degree of respect
prudence would accord the man in question.

“ I reckon, stran rer, ycou inought be green ill
these hyar parts. issouri Bill air a gay young
rooster what kin jest catawam )tiously chew up '
any two-legged critter what ast to show his
head an’ crow! Hey, fellers? air that the
chalk?”

“That’s about the size of it, ur I’m a liar!”
asseverated an individual who looked as if his
veracity might be far from unimlwachable. y

The stran er waved aside the smoke of his .
cigar, in or or that he mi ht look down the l
line of faces ranged along t 10 bar; and, while 
his piercing eye regarded them coolly, he said, l
as carelessly as before:

“ I reckon he ain’t the Almighty!”

“I’ve got money what says thar hain’t no v

 

! two-1e ged man in this h ar shebang that dast 

. . . . . . ‘ tell '
f  techs, immaculate linen (he was in his slnrt—  3%,,le
d

1
It was near ten o’clock of a dark, drizzling  a

ftlemlan) ‘with a military mustache blew a w ite ‘
, wfhath of smoke from his lips and letting his '

 

I

w;-
'l
l 3'

“I

cnou rh to cover that leetle pile with a view to
tryiii so rcsky an experiment! I pass, you
bet!

“Boss, it’s clean b me i” added a third, with
a shrug of the shouli ers.

And this sentiment seemed general.

At this point the door of the saloon o nod, to
give admittance to a tall, raw-hon rufllan,
with a long gaunt face and high cheek-bones.
He wore a siouched hat, tilted very far on one
side, and a red flannel shirt, with black velvet
la ls and cuffs, and anchors. on either breast.
H trowsers, originally gray but now faded
and soiled to a snufl‘ color, were supported at
the waist by a broad leathern belt, to which
was hung a pistol at his back. The right leg of
his mmlimns was prevented from fallin r over
the t by a bowie—knifc—tho famous “ 1 rkan-
sas toothpick "—thrust into the bootleg.

At his approach the silence of am) fell 11 on
the speakers, and he who had been so lou in
eulo now zed around with a smile of sub-
du triump , as who would say:

“H ar on have him, gents. Don’t he fill
the hi 1? al, I reckon!”

Just before Missouri Bill’s entry 9. stripling
had step led up to the bar and, apparently
without leading the conversation that was in

rogress, ordered liquor. As the Missourian

row near, the bartender set the required bev-
era before his other customer somewhat hur-
ri y and indicated his readiness to serve the
bull by an obsequious smirk.

“ rand l” was the laconic order, the “boss”
receiving he mute homage of the crowd, with
a royal nonchalamce that would not deign even
so much as a glance in acknowledgment.

Allmade we at the bar save the striplin ,
who seemed to in abstracted thought and o. )-
liv10us to what was going on around him. Mis—

souri Bill took his place at the bar, and with .

the air of a man who was used to having “01‘
bow-room,” no matter at whose ex 1186, pushed
aside the glass of the youth, spil ing some of
the Rigor over the counter. The other, roused
from 's meditations by this rudeness, demand-
ed with an y flush:

“Look alliryar, boss! hain’t you rather free
an’ easy with that that big paw o’ yourn?”

All stood aghast at this audacious challenge,

00ml , too, rom such a bantling.

Wi a rt intended to be irresistibly face-
tious the rian affected to look about as if
for somet ' in the air. Then be brushed his

ear with his road palm, and ejaculated:
“Shgo, fly! ur was it a muskeeter what

The sycophant makes no overclose scrutiny as
to the qpallty of the wit at which he is to laugh;
hence t 6 performance of the Missourian was

ted by a prolonged guflaw from all Eldes-

When t is mechanical hilarity had somewhat
subsided, the youth retorted in the same spirit;

“Sounds like a buffalo bull. It’s tl'iCked out
like a Scare-crow. It’s long enough for 9' .flSh‘
poll:J t'lzalking 0f poles—phewi it mils hke a
P0 a . .

Andhe affected to move awa in disgust.

A quiet smile twinkled in he eyes of the
stranger, who from the first had leaned careless-
lya ttheendof the bar. 'Hecul‘essedhis
m . be With  left

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!

; git the chance at this hyar shop, an

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V lit/the same .701

  
 

In no one knew whence.

. ith a scowl that Satan might have envied,
Missouri Bill glanced around in nest of the
man foolhardy enough to laugh at is expense.
But every one looked as s rised as he, the
ventrllofilllli}? of the stranger filing them all.
Then he _ ed upon the oath who had had
the tenlerlty to bend him hus ublicly.

“An’ who in blazes be you?’ he demanded,
with a horrible oath.

“ One what don’t propose to let no seven-stow
lubber walk over me without squealin’, can
bet!” replied the stripling, nothing daunte by
the formidable front presented by the other.

f‘Bahl eou wouldn’t make half a mouthful,
yeou wou dn’tl” sneered the giant, contemptu-

ousllyg.

“ ~oss,” replied the outh,jauntily, “ I allow
eon ve got a powerfu open countenance—yeou
ave, 'so; but if you try to git away with me in

two bites, even, reckon yeou’ll want to let out

the job before you git through.”

Again the derisive lau hter run through the
room. Again was the ismurian affled.

Then with eyes flaming like coals. he turned
upon his audacious antagonist.

“My young an‘ incx )crienced friend,” he

said, with sarcastic deli ~ration,” cf yeou’re a

itchin’ to git yeour mouth slapped, ycou kin jest

right smart
too, Iyeou bet!”

“ erhaps I see somebody what wants to sin
it fur mc—pcrhaps I don‘t!” said the vouth, a -
fcctin to look around for some one t6 perform
the oihce indicated.

A frown of impatience bent the brows of
more than one of the bystanders, to see this
rash young man so wantonly thrust his head
into the lion’s mouth, and they muttered some-

so i” declared he first speaker, confl- E tiliiing about a “ fool ” with a very forcible qual-

l or.
jest as lieve hold the stakes, gents,” l The bully stood a moment in astonishment.
ughed another' “but blowed if I’d be fool 1 Then, with a fierce oath, he raised his hand to

make good his implied threat. The next in-
stant he caught his breath with a gasp, as his
adversary warded off the blow and dashed his
liquor into his face. ‘.

A cry of wonder and dismay went up from
the spectators. They expected that the next
moment would see the annihilation of the fool-
hardy perpetrator of the deed.

Missouri Bill was confused for a moment, as

l much by the audacity of the assault as by its

suddenness—only for a moment, however; then
he slapped his hand to his back and whipped out
his revolver, amid a torrent of frantic blas-
phcmy.

But a clear, incisive voice out the air like a

1 e.

“ Hold on, there, boss! Iv’e ot the drop on
you! Don’t cock that weapon. gf you’re bound
to have a little game 0’ that sort, jest call some-
body that’s half your size; but don’t pitch onto
that boy that can‘t count inches to your feet.”

Apparently the “boy” was fully able to take
care of himself ; for alread ' his weapon covered
Missouri Bill’s heart. He shown himself as
read with the pistol as with the glass.

f‘ km play my own hand,” he said with a

un smile. ‘ I reckon they’ll have a new stoker

own below, if our friend hyar don't keep the
muzzle on his leetle barker!”

Missouri Bill saw that the adversary in front
had been more than a match for him in
new; he then glanced over his shoulder saw
the man at the end of the bar standing in the
same careless attitude a cigar between the first
and second fingers of his lc t hand, in his right a.
cocked revolver, and the smoke
away from before his face. Thus tween two
fires, the bully remained with his own weapon
at his side, not'daring to raise it.

At the drawmg of wea us those nearest the
contestants had sought greater safety by hastily
fallin back.

In t e corner the two finflemen first intro-
duced to the reader were a orbed spectators of
the scene. The major spoke.

“ Didn’t I tell you that you might have a sub-
feet at any moment? I hope it will be that

ubberly buffalo-bull. The boy’s got luck, and
no nnstake. A few minutes. Will tell t e story. ”

ust clearing

 

CHAPTER II.
a DUEL Exmonmnanr.

“Gums yeou’ve got me this onc't-that’s a-
sure-’nough fact. All’ I allow" it hain’t no dis-
grace fur any man to ueal when he hain’t no
show. But, yeou 811 ln’ cur be thar, ef
yeou (last to face me like a man, I kin make
crow-baitoutO’ eon in short meter, yeou white-
livered thief, an one pine-box ’11 do fur both 9*

m

The bully looked a very demon in his rage, as "

he hissed forth his fierce challenge. No one
knew better than he the disadvantage of an
enemy in the rear.
By this time a score of “six ;
out the fore-fin er trembling 011
The ruflian w 0 had first spok
the redoubtable Missourian now
tunity favor with hlm
part; and he in rposed inabl
co; ’ , .
\ I.
 7 eff;-

o

"\VOllL.

laughing ejaculations of time the room rung with derislve laughter, com-

  

uick- -

   

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assesses;

“BEE

 

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our «awning Etlfl‘Q! a nose as

05:“ HE'erde '55‘4

 

 

 

 

   
     
      
   
      
  

BOSCH

   
    
    
  
    
   
   
 
        
   
   

i
(No. 1.

A Hard Crowd; or, Gentleman Sam’s Sister.

3

 

 

“Let up thar, boss! Fair play all round! We
don’t stand by an’ see no two onto one, eou
know—not if my name’s Poker Tom—an we
think she am! Let up thar, I say! Man to man
-that’s squar’!” . I . . _

In a twinkling, and as if in antICIpation of
this attack, the cigar had vanished from the left
hand of the man at the end of the bar, to give

place to a revolver whose muzzle frowned warn— ,

mod n n the last s aker and those near him
esotlie v53apon was aiheied diagonally across its
owner’s ri ht arm. Meanwhile, the istol in his

right him never wavered an inch mm the di- ‘
Missouri Bill’s heart, and the specta- ‘

rect line to '
tors knew it.

The same quiet smile played about the man’s ‘
mechanical and con- i
fined to the lips; for t e steely glitter of his :
gray eyes showed that the tiger of his nature

lips. But it was purel

Was on the alert. His voice, however, betrayed
nothing of this in its evenly modulated tones.

“ Gents,” he said, “let me persuade you that
this hyar little game is being run b a man who
understands his biz, every time] f any one.of
you wants to git up a first-class funeral, let him
stick up his head where I can git a fit at it,
and he won’t have to go far for the y, ou
bet! Don’t all speak at once, gentlemen. o I
hear a call? Shall be happy to accommodate
an six!” I

othing cows a crowd so quickly as a prompt
challenge, backed by a “ six-shooter ” held in a
steady nd. The men edged nervously out of
rano'e, while one said: i _

“ ard, I reckon we cave. This h ar hain’t
none 0’ our funeral, no how yeou kin it.”

“ I allow he’s got the rope eend an’ kin pitch i

the trump,” assented a second.

“ It la a between him an’ Missouri Bill who’s ‘

to be coc o’ the walk, sure,” added a third.

Poker Tom apparently yielded to popular sen-
timent. At any rate he was mute.

“ Very well, gentlemen,” replied_the man at
the end of the bar, in a tone of indifference.
“ I’m sassy when you crowd me; but stroke .me
the right way, an’ I allow new milk am’t
sweeter.” _ . _

Then, addressing Missouri Bill, he continued,
pleasantly: . _

“I’m your huckleberry, mister, for the httle
exchan o’ civilities you hinted at. Jest put
up yer fittle black-an’-tan, and we’ll arrange for
a uare stand-up-an’-toe—the-mark.” I

issouri Bill returned his pistol to its case,

' and addressed the stripling with whom his quar-

rel had begun. .

“ Jest let me git this hyar meddlesome cuss in
my rear ready fur the hearse, an’ I’ll fix you
afterward!”

Missouri Bill know only the bully’smodeof
attack, which is to stamp out opposition With
the heavy heel; and he addressed his other op-
gJanent with an air intended to cow him on the

rt.

“Well, my lark, I’m ready to lay on out in
83% sha you prefar. What shall it !”

ut t e man at the end of the bar did not
seem to cow “worth a cent.” He twirled the
end of his mustache carelessly, and looked with
half-shut eye through the white wreath of smoke
that he blew slowly from his 11 .

“As the challenged party sup_ I have
the right to determine the condi ions of the
game,’ he said. “But I ain’t atall articular
as to weapo _
Yonder or knives toe to toe—it’s all the same to
me. If you have any choiw, pitch the trump
Yourself. ’ .

He knew that a. bully would have no particu-
lar relish for pistols at such close range; and
Missouri Bill’s re 1y proved that he was no ex-
ce tlion to t3: fell fur t’other

‘ woul ’t " a copper ur
Which,” he said; “but I reckon I kin make a

dsomer corpse out o’ yeou with a knife—a

Pill makes such a cussed leetlc hole!”

i Who makes the

right—knives it shall be. And we’ll see
handsome corpse. This hyar’s
the we, we’ll fight: First, we stri to the waist.
, our le hand is tiedbe ' dour back.
Third, our left legs are tied together at the knee.
At the word ready, we lace the int of our
6 on the left breast 0 our man Just over the

t. At the word three, the best man wins!

‘ Is that straight?”

, “ It’s a new ame ” replied Missouri Bill, -
mg slightly; “ at if yeou’re a better man t an
me, yeou’re welcome to. lay me out. I reckon
hain’t no crawflsh in me. ’
“ It’s a go, then. Pick your second.”
As he ceased speaking, the sharp eyes of the
801' ran over the assemblage and settled
upon the com anion of the major whom_we
may know 35 Sr. Chillingworth. W ith a nick,
spi'ingy stop he went over to where the octor
sa .

“Pardner,” he said, “ you are a stranger to
me' but I reckon I can depend on you for this
Mum ' »

Them felt a thrill at thus being called
3

in some confusion:

4 V ' iY do” Ir, I hope you will not misunder-

ltlnd me formally m sympathies are all with
I“! in: thk m; bu never having my

.405,’ int wm’t matter. That big bully ain’t

n3. Pistols across the b' lard table j

l .
5 0mg to lay me out'
3 girl) work on your han

‘ “Believe me, I would be most willing to serve
1 you in an way in my power.
; should ma 6 but a sorry second in an affair of
this kind.”
“Bless you
light laugh, “I
,‘ to see that no light—fingered gent goes through
I my pockets while my coats off. I want an
‘ hgiicst man; and your face struck me favor-
a .77
ie doctor was by no means sure that he was
not allowing himself to be made acces to a

conscience with the reflection that, while his refu-
sal to act could make no difference with the duel,
he might on the other hand be of material ser—
v'me to the man in whom he had suddenly con-
ceived a. deep interest, he hastened to say:

“If you think me a com tent second, consid-
er me at your service. will do the best I

can.”

“ I thank on, sir. Nobody could ask more
than that. nd after this is over, if I can ever
return the compliment, I’ll try to show you that
I am not quicker to forget my friends than my
enemies.”

i Without more ado he began quietly to strip
for the aflray, laying his clothes on the table.

“We must alwa s be prepared for the worst,”
said the doctor. ‘ Have you papers or word of
any kind that you would Wish sent to your
friends?”

A shade of something like sadness flitted crosss
. the face of the duelist; then his lips were com-
pressed with bitterness as he replied:

“ No. A man that’s kicked about the world
as many years as I have don’t have many friends
that ’u( care for his carcass.”

“ There was one—but, no; that was years ago.
She’s dead long before this, or doubtless has for-

otten me, even if you could find her. No,
here’s not one in all the wide world.”

He mused himself with a start from the
dreaminess into which he had fallen while pur-
suing this sad retrospect; and fixing u n the
doctor a piercing glance, while his chest abored
with emotion, he continued:

“ Did you ever think how a man—not a very
wicked man on the start—might go from bad to
worse, almost as if by compulsion, when he felt
that he was cut loose from all the world, with
nothing to live for, with no one to care whether
he was up or d0wn—when perhaps he had been
wronged—bitterly wronged l—until he had lost
faith in humanity?”

Dr. Chillingworth listened to his rapid utter-
ance with 8. eat surge of responsive emotion.
Impulsively 0 extended his hand and grasped
that of the strange man who had thus grown so
near to him.

“I cannot explain the feeling,” he said, in a
voice ti‘eniulous with emotion. “ I have known
you but a moment, and yet I wish that we had
met before. I feel that we could have helped
each other. Have I found you but to lose you
again! I wish that this danger could be averted
—that I could take it upon myself. You are a
young man yet. There is much before you—”

“ Excuse me; but you are making a mountain
out of a mole—hill,” interrupted the stranger, rc-
covcring his wonted composure with a sudden
effort. “ If I live until that flat lays me out, I
reckon I’ll be older’n Methuselah.”

“ He’s a werful man.”

“ A b alo-bull!” was the contemptuous re-

1y.
p “ But if the worst should come, your name!”

“ Time! Time!”

It was the voice of Poker Tom, whose vanity
was mightily puffed up by his having been
chosen second by the man on whom he “ piled
his chi , every time!” He spoke in a brisk
perem . ry tone, adding a grumbling sneer at
I the “c, - usic ’ his principal’s adversary was
indulging in.

The stranger turned upon him with a piercing
glance, and said:

“Keep your shirt on, my friend. If you’re
itching for it, I’ll give you all the time you
want, after I git the other off my hands.”

Then to the the doctor:

“ If I fall, my name will be of no consequence.
Let me die as I have lived. But, one thing I
ask offetyou. There’s a miniature in my coat
moun in gold. I have worn it all in life,
and I want it buried with me. It’s onl a ancy,
perhaps; for it has led to nothing in ‘ e, and of
course it can do no good in the ground; but I
want it so, and I know you will humor me. But
—don’t let any one know it. There’d be a bun-
dred ready
I got co! —the wolves!

urso—enough to
'ou ma keep the
me, or give it to some one in need.”

He drew forth the miniature of which he had
s ken, and gazed upon it with a clouded brow.
All? he stood there with that frown of painful
thouérht, Dr. Chillingworth started.

There’s money in my

‘t

mused. “Where have I met with it before? I

 

have been preposeessod in his favor; but now I

\

/

hat is there familiar about that face?” he ‘

s38 you won’t have any i experience a feeling of repu nce. Wh

But I fear I ‘

sir,” replied the other, with a 1
reckon there’s nothing to do but I

is it,

I wonder? Surely I cannot ave known 1m in

“ t’s not that,” replied the doctor, hastily. l the past!”

His musings were interrupted by the gruff

voice of Missouri Bill.

“ Ef the galoot is only biddin’ his sweetheart
cod-by, it's all right he should take his time;
ur I allow he won’t see her ag’in in a hurry.

But ef so be he’s gittin’ skeery, an’ wants ter
crawfish—”

The stranger wheeled as if stung by the inso-

; lent tone of the speaker, and with flashing eyes

murder, but there is a force in public sentiment, ,
however perverted it may be; and quieting his ,

and uivering nostrils, said.

“ on’t flatter yourself, my impatient friend.
I was only givin you time for our prayers, if
on have any. 1’ not, I’m rea y to give you a
esson in fancy carving as soon as the word is

‘ given.”

 

to dig me up and rob me of it before 5

He hurriedly slipped the miniature back into
his coat as it lay on the table. The glimpse that
Dr. Chillingworth get of it showed him that it
was a picture of a young and beautiful woman,
painte on rcelain and mounted in an old-

ashioned go (1 setting.

The next moment, the combatants had taken
their stations in the center of the room. The
placed themselves with the left foot forwar ,
overlapping so as to bring the inside of the 1
together. In this position they were secure y
bound just below the knee. The left armof
each was then bound to his back, and the sec-
onds retired.

The splendid muscular development of the
stran r elicited more than one murmur of ad-
miration from the rude spectators. His skin
was as white and smooth as marble, while the
pggfect contour of every muscle might have

n the pride of any gladiator of old.

Missouri Bill saw it, too; for as his eye ran
ovelr his antagonist, as if to take his measure, be
58.1 :

“ Yeou hain‘t no chicken, an’ that’s a fact;
but I’ll clip your wings all the same.”

“ When I s it you on this little rib-tickler I
reckon you think you are a goose,” was the
grim reJoinder—“ and gone goose at that!”

An angry flash came into the e e of Misso' uri
Bill, at t e contemptuous smile of ’ adversary.

“Do yeou know who I be?” he demanded,
 .

“ 0; don’t usually make the acquaintance
of such fellows as you are. But I know one
thin about on, though.”

“ ’ wha ’s that?”

“ I know you’re a big fool to think that bull-
strength stands any show against science.”

“Gents, air you read ?” called Mimourl Bill’s
secoiiill, in a melodrama 'c tone. h bef

“ ’ give eou ‘ science enoug , ore you
git through Whissed the Missourian, with dila '
nostrils and a sudden purple flush, as he
the keen point of his weapon against the naked
breast of his adversary.

A tauntin smile was the onl
stranger de 'berately placed
bowie-knife on the other‘s breast, sothat it made.
a just-perceptible indentation in the flesh be-
tween the ribs. Then he flxed his eyes upon
those of his opponent with a sudden, fascinating
intensity that made the color visibly reoede
from the Missourian’s face.

“And now,” he hissed, while his eyes glit-
tere?d like those of a baSilisk, “do you know
me ’

“Yeou? The devil! no. Who are yeou?”

“ Why don’t you say—‘ Caramba, nor—Ri-
cardo del Selano?”

The stranger emphasized his words with a
stinging sneer.
1i Missouri Bill started violently and paledtothe

reply; and the

ps.
“ Ha!” he aspirated with a gasp.
“So you know me ’
“ Curse ou! no.”
“ Look c oeely.”
“ I have never seen you.”
“ Never?”
“Never!”
“ Ha! ha! Your memory is treacherous.”
“ Curse
cardo del lano?”
“ Have you forgotten so soon?”
The stranger seemed to enjoy the torture of
suspense to which he was subjecting his antag-

onist. Every moment was making Missouri .

Bill’s nerves more unstead . He spoke in a
sharp, rasping voice, while ' white lips quiv-
ered with a mysterious terror.

“The foul fiend seize gyoul Speak! Speak!
Atwhatare youhin' ’

In that moment of mtense excitement he
seemed unconsciously to drop the Western dia-
lect out of his h, which showed that it was
onlyl affected w en he did use it.

e stranger smiled as he noticed ,this, and
pursued:

w all expenses and more. | “I have not forgotten. I might have squared
ance for your kindness to ’ accounts with you a while E230; and

on would
have died 'in your forge at I wish
you to remember. How strange that you should
ave forgotten so soon!”
Missouri Bill burst forth in a torrent of wild

, oaths.

I
|
i

 

Without seemin to heed him, the stranger
continued, as if cogun ' with himself: I
“ Ten years ago tic-night!

\' i - \l ,
U‘f. \

l I

epomtofhis,

on! what do you know of me as Ri-l.

\"

i .

  

  
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
 
   
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
  
  
 
 
  
 
   
  
  
 
 
 
  
  
   
   
 
  
   
  

L..._n_. ,. 4.-

_ A strange hush fell upon the Missourian. His
. blas hemous tongue seemed suddenly paralyzed.
His i were livid, his eyes protruding, his very

breat stayed.
The strangler pursued in the same tone:
18—

“ 16t .

A wild yell of terror drowned hisvoice, and
Missouri Bill leaped backward, but was restrain—
ed by the ligature that bound his leg to that of
his adversary.

The face of the stran er underwent a sudden

'ty of the avenger. His voice was clear, cut-
merciless.

tin
‘gStand up and face your doom like a man,”

-; .3 he cried, “unless you are a coward as well as a j
' ' ence.

scowndrel!”

. ,' v ; ‘ that had paralyzed him; but he stood quivering
' ‘ from‘hea to foot.

’ one of the s )cctators in a suppressed whisper.
“Crawfis nothin’!” dec ared Poker Tom,
33h an indi 1ant frown lat this reflection on
, courage o is princ1pa .
, “ I reckon the t’other’n has got the deadwood
- . on him some’r’s.”
_ “‘ Jim Slug ins, air you a-givin’ of us wind,
, ‘ ur talkin’?” emanded Poker Tom, pulling a
' Iroll of money from the watch-pocket of his
' trowsers. ~
' ,“I’ve ot a sawbuck what says thar hain’t
no wind yar,” replied Jim, following smit.
“Put it thar, boss,” said Poker Tom, placing
his money in the hands of the barkeeper.
; 7 1“Pard, thar she am!” said Mr. Slug 'ns, de-
. minghismoney withaconfident air. ‘ eou’re
' ’ ter lose; fur ther boss is skeered out sure!”
to  ’As these words, acco'm anied b a low
' 4“, 'chuckzie, reached his ear, issouri B111 rallied
’- A a purple flush of cheek and brow.
 V ’“ I reckon no man don’t call time on me twice
5 . without gettin‘ his reg’lar allowance,” he said
 .withaswagger. “Jim Sluggins, you’d better
'1: your measure took; fur yeou come next, ur
‘ _ , m a liar!” .
"x 1 ‘ Jim paled slight] at this threat; but he knew
7  ‘that he was “in or it,” and that nothing he
“could now say would make the matter an
I'Vwome; so with an outward appearance of coo -
 g m, while he mentally curse his indiscretion,
af‘r ‘fhersaid, with a shrug:
.; ,: “I allow yeou’re gittin’ a good deal on
at)"; ,yem’re hands, fur—” ,
' f_ “ Gents, air you ready?” interrupted Poker
Tom, who did not wish the man on Whom his
_ ’ money was staked to be further irritated.
,3 ' "Without a word the combatants again got
“.Lainto. position. Their breasts, bared by tying
ftheir. left arms behind their backs, seemed to
court death. The doctor, accustomed as he
waste death in all its hideous forms, could
fifacarcely repress a shudder as he looked at them.
‘ , “ One!” uttered the Missourian’s second.
 , The room was as still as death. The specta-
. an stood with pale faces, bated breath, and
. ihanda clenched over their weapons, with that
distinct by which, in moments of such intense
- excitement, every brute stands on his guard

:

. I;
,,~

_  all his fellows. Every eye was riveted
,3  the contestants—every heart stood still—
4 .1 '1'. felt that the next two seconds would usher in
"ya’double death.

1 Every vestige of color had left the Missouri-
' were tightly compressed;
neath ‘his black brows like

f -' '.’-an’s' face. HIS h
’ .3 his eyes glowed I
A  ' " coals. He now seemed for the first time
 to realire the full extent of his awful ril. He

7 elt that he must die; but he resolved hat there

Jshould be no survivor.

’As \for his antagonist, not a muscle quivered;

' not a change was visible in his face.

, *‘ Two!”
..  Missourian leaned forward, to give impe-
‘ '  ' the thrust which he meant should search
.4. out adversary’s heart. He did not seem to

"feel the keen point against which his breast

Ii!!!)ltil the blood started through the punc—

tThe stranger was a man of rock.

" 4‘ REE!’

 "A la yell of trium hburst from the excited

 of Missouri ill and a score of wea-

- “panadeaped from their places in that frenzied

a ~ implant, when their champion made a ferocious

’ '1 ' ' and his adversary sunk to the floor on his
 t knee. The blood rushed back upon Dr.

) ' wth’s heart with a force that made

H

 arm, as his imagination pictured a,
‘ , pulsing heart cloven in twain by the
murderous bowie. ’But the yell died away in a
. of horror, and the blood leaped again to
"E9 doctor’s extremities.

 , he, sunk backward and downward, the
, 1' had,  the rapidity of lightning,
the point 0 his wea n rom his_adver-
 breast, and plungedi into the Missouri-
s’f‘oxurm, striking
 odm digs W'th and h in
‘ irec on. us erose aga ,
his deadly wmow dh‘ectedxvithflatal aim.

 upward’ of the bowie, as its keen
, t"th'o,breast that bent above him,
' _, jh  whole force of his body,
‘ wmemiu-« ,-

away in

I
l

 i  meme:

“‘3', ; ' “change. All the bantcrmg, snecring expression .,
' ' assed away to give place to the stern implaca- 4

Missouri Bill struggled to overcome the terror "

“A‘ir the boss a-goin’ ter crawflsh?” asked 3

the bone and thrusting

 

'“.\>‘."..”" LA. r’

l “ I
/~ ,.

.fi.‘

 llibrary.

 

 

, Without a murmur, with only a convulsive
‘ (fluiver and a demoniac contortion of his brutal

Iatures, the Missourian fell backward upon the

2 floor, with a heavy thud, stone dead!

 

CHAPTER III.
GENTLEMAN’ sAM’s SISTER.

AND now let us turn back a few hours, to the .

 

  

“Who is that?”

“ Eh? That? Oh, that’s Gentleman Sam’s
sister,” replied Andy, looking up.

And with that spirit of his class which invests
the community with the borrowed luster of a
local celebri , and pluming himself accordin -
lby'aisda mem r of the Community, he added,

I'lS y:

“ But, hain’t she about as peart as they make

morning of the most tragical evening in the Oc- i ‘em? Bet a boss they cain t show her match

cidental Saloon. .

No indication of the storm which made the
dreariness of that bloody night, had yet ap-
peared. ()n the contrary, thesun looke( down
as brightly) as if its face would never be ob-
scured by rooding clouds.

Nature responded gladly to this cnial influ-
The rrass were its greenest auty; the
flowers nod( ed pleasant] to the passing breeze;
the trees mstled their outlets in quiet enjoy—
ment; and the throats of the many-colored den.

izcns of their cool retreats swelled almost to i barkeeper.
' three mile.
2 sister together.
' ’em, they call Mad Kate; an’ one on ’em stays
‘ along 0’ her, mostly, while the other comes to
.town.

bursting with their grateful songs.

Bowered by the dense foliage that denied in-
gress to the sun and half—smothered by clamber—
ing vines, a rude hut hid from the eye of the
passer—by on the dusty highway, deep in the se-
clusion of the woods.

Before the low door of this sequestered abode
a young girl, decked in rather fanciful costume
almost as varied in coloring as the plumage oi
the birds that flitted fearlessl ' in her vicinit v,
sat in the saddle, tappin her dress abstractedly
with her riding-whi , w iile her horse champed
his bit, and tossed his head and stamped impa-
tiently to dislodge the flies that pcstercd him.

In the doorway stood a woman, older by
a quarter of a century, perhaps. Her face

her eyes sunken.
vague something—whether their restless wan-
dering, or their intense brilliancy—éwhich con-
strained a second lance and inspired a feeling
anything but eomlgortable.

“Jo,” she said, addressing the girl; and her
voice had in it the impatient aspcrity of the in-
valid—“ Jo, shall you be gone long! I almost
despair of anything coming of all our years of
search. begin to fear—”

The woman broke off with a sort of sob, while .

the tears started weakly in her eyes.
“What do you fear, aunt ?” asked the girl,
coming out of or reverie wit ready sympathy.
The woman’s eye wandered aimlessly a mo-
ment, before she answered:

 

'et ,
bore traces of early beauty, now much fat ed 1
by long suffering. Her cheeks were pale and :
In the latter feature was a I

 

within a radius of a few miles—eh, boss?”

“ Gentleman Sam?” repeated the major inter-
rogatively, passing over Andy’s comments.

“ Hain t heared 0’ him, stranger? VVal, he’s a
mite of a chick ou’d think yeou could ut in a
pint mug; but ay yer pile he’s a hul team
when he’s mad! They‘re a pretty air, as like
as two peas, an’ hot as coals to han le—both on
em.

“Where do they live 3" asked the major.

“That I don’t adzackly know,” replied the
“ It’s some’rs up country, tWO ur
You don’t often see Sam an’ his
Thar’s a luny what lives with

u

But when they do parade in company
they’re a pair 0’ high-stoppers as hain’t matched
eve? day, you bet!”

“ ut 1s 1t safe for so beautiful a womanto
traverse a lonely count road unprotected?”

“ Safe!” repeated Am y, with a chuckle.

“ This is a pretty tough community isn’t it?
Suppose one of the five gentlemen who hang
around here should take it into his head to run
awayL with her?”

“ un away with Gentleman Sam’s sister?”
repeated And in amaze. “Lord love ye!” he
added with a an h and a shrug, “ I allow it ’ud
take a fmv 0’ the oudest shar )5: west 0’ the Mis-
sissip’ to git away with her! ’d qualify she kin
call any six, an’ give ’cm long odds in the bar—
gain! Why, gosh all fish-hooks, stranger! it
ud’ ’a’ made cou jest git right u ) an’ how], to
’a’ seen the eetle fracas she ha with sandy
Bob. Sandy, he war the toughest 01d grizzllgr
that ever crossed the Rocky Mount’ns; bu ,
bless yer soul, he knowed the p’ints of a purty
hoss ur a urt Woman!

“ Wal, an y he clapped his eyes on to Gen—
tleman Sam’s sister one day, an’ he jest gin one
long whistle an’ come waltzin’ up to her like a
dancin’ mas r. He took off his bat an’ bowed
untel he was nearly double, and he says, says

e:
“ ‘Hallo, little gal! does yer mother know

“That my boy has changed so that we might i ye’re out? Let me interducc to you the Great

meet him face to face, and et not know him.”

“Don’t fear that, Aunt ate,” said the girl,
consolingly. “You would know him; and I
think—I am almost sure I should.”

“ It has been a weary search. So man years!
——so many years! And the World is so ig—oh,
so big!” complained the woman.

The girl urged her horse forward, and, bend-
ing, kissed the woman on the forehead.

‘Wait, aunt ,” she said, in a soothing tone.
“We may find iim any day. Who knows?”

The elder woman seemed to lean u on the
strength of the younger one. Taking er un-
gauntleted hand, she pressed it to her cheek,
while she murmured, with fresh tears:

“ Jo you are always so good. What could I
do without you? And you will bring him back
to me, some day? Oh, know you will! Dear
chi]d!—-dear child 1”

“There! there, aunty!” said the girl, herself
much moved by this display of affection.
“ You’ll let me go now. And I ll be back again,
almost before 'ou begin to miss me.”

She gathere< up the rein, touched her horse
with the whi ), and was gone.

Tearfully t e woman watched her until she
was hidden by the foliage, then turned wearin
into the hut.

Half an hour later the girl was centering
through the unpaved streets of the town, at-
tracting looks of reco ition and admiration
from the rude pedestrians on the flank side-
walks and from the equally rude s opkeepers
loun ing idly in their doorways.

Be ore the Occidental Saloon that fair mom-
ing stood a man of milita bearin to whom
we have already been intr ueedin he person
of Major Gravesend. The 'rl’s somewhat fan-
ciful attire first caught his eye; but, when she
had approached near enough so that he could
distinguish her features everything else was
forgotten in the rapt contemplation of her rare
loveliness.

As she passed, his eyes devoured her, until
the ma etism of his drew her eye upon
him. is fixed reglar seemed to annoy her;
for she flushed and or eye flashed. Then with
a slight accession of hauteur and a tremulous—
ness of the li , as if on the pomt of curling in
scorn, she loo ed straight before her and rode

on.

When she w, a dee breath showed
how rofound been-the e set on the major.
Whilg his eyes yet followsd her receding figure,
noting with the appreciation of a connoisseur
her graceful conformity to the motions of her

horse, he the keeser of the saloon,
And Blake, who sat on the cor-sill teasing a
Migr'pup- '
. flwi‘ , ‘ I,   ’ I , ‘ . r
L', V “; kp-luijfiiff",H‘ét'lf:"_.-j. . .' (3.1.! ‘3;

 

 

 Original Sandy Bob, )resident of a Sand Bank,

from Sandstone. Pea , an’ inventor ‘0’ sand-
wiches! I hain’t no great shakes on purtty my-
self; but when I see an angel, like you, ur in- -
stance—um! but it makes my mouth water!’

“Then he stood a-grinnin’ at her, an’ a~wipin’
of his mouth on the back 0’ his hand.

“Wal, she jest gin him a look what ’ud ’a’
cleaned out any seven men in this hyar section
0’ country, au’ made fur to walk around him.
But, nothin’ ’ud do but he must have a kiss; so
he‘sa s, says he:

“ ‘ old yer bosses, my purty! Yeou hain’t
a-goin’ by t iis hyar gate without payin’ tole, no-
how yeou kin fix it.’

“ And he went fur to ab hold of her.

“ Je-e-rusalem! yeou’ orter ’a’ seen ‘her eyes
Bfiapi She jest steps back, an’ she says, says
s e: a -

“ ‘ Stand aside, yeou fool! I don’t want, ter
take the life 0’ such a worthless villain as you

1

“But Sandy, he jest yells with laughternan’
makes a dive for her! ,She jum to one side,
as sp as a cat, an’ fired a erringer as he
stumb ed ast her, carryin’ away his uppfi; hp
an’ four ront teeth, as slick as 8.. 3V _ tlel
Sand rolled on the ground, bellenn hke a,
bufla o—bull. Gentleman Sam’s sister pushed
him with her foot, contemptuous-like, as If he
was so much dirt; an’ when he rolled over so’s
she could see h0w he was fixed, she says, says
she:

“ ‘ I reckon yeou won’t kiss nobody for some
time to come.’

“ An’ with that she sails off down the street,
as if nothin’ had happened.

“When We come to tell Gentleman Sam, he
says, says he: .

“Gents, I reckon my sister is able 'to take
keer of herself. If any man thinks dliferent,
jest let him itch onto her, any time he’s a
mind to. He has my permissmn.’ ”

“ She's quite an Amazon,” remarked the ma.
jor, thinkin how little such a warlike dis lay
accorded wfih the gentle expression of her ace.

“But, what is her name? ‘You refer to her only

as ‘Gentleman Sam’s sister.’ ” _

“I reckon thar don’t nobody know no more
than that,” replied Andy; “leastways that’s the
extent 0’ my pile.” . _

After a few more questions which discovered
that Andy had indeed reached the end of’his
information, and the lady havmg passed from-
view, the major simmered toward his hotel
with the air of a man in deep meditatiOn. . . . ,

Meanwhile, Gentleman Sam‘s sister had come

under the notice of a man withanem . . ,
’bug'mmh m \/ msml’ dads”  
. I ‘ _ . 3x
 v.1... ‘ I ’v’   t’ r it) ' s. I,“ ‘

 

 

 

 

      

 

 

 

 

 

 

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s » ..  .1" ‘ '   if"  fig“... 2  7, ". "' i. “ "’ ' ' . . f‘, ' , . '- ' '\ 1 tv .7
.g t,  r f I. a, \ . .‘ ‘ 3-, «mt .‘ I I ,\ ‘1 | L \ I; ’ . h ,— 
. p . . x ‘ ‘ V . ‘ I t N _ _ g , a g
No. 1. , , A Hard Crowd ; or, Gentleman Sam 5 Sister.
heavy black whiskers and the sinister frown i have said that he would make a far more for- I “ What do I understand outo say?”

 that darkened his brows. '
men ruflian was evident from the intellectual

 

than his less gifted fellows.

At the moment he was walking rapidly, with
his eyes on the ground, his hands clenched and
his features working excitedly.

“ Cuise him!” he muttered, below his breath;
“who is he? The sight of him thrills me
strangely. There is something in his bearin
that seems familiar. “There in the past have
met such a. man? In any event, why do I hate
or— Is it fear? Bah! I am afraid of no man!
If I had but seen his face.
I did not follow him.” . _

Chancing to look up at this point of his medi-
tations
ridin by.

“ iends!” he e'aculated, stolppin short in his
brisk walk. “ ho is this wit 1 suc i a face? Is
this country enchanted? I meet some haunting
face at every turn.”

His loomy frown of a moment before had
suddersy been dispersed by a lift of the brows,
expresswe of wonder and expectancy. Clutch-
ing the t of a wooden awning, he lared in-
tently at the face presented tohim in t 9 profile,

i
i

‘/

 

the attention of the girl being attracted to the ‘
Opposite side of the street, so that she did not a

see him.
“ he in the Fiend’s name is that?" he de-
manded, breatlilessly, turning sharpl upon the

I>I"0‘1331:‘1il tor of the grocery before whic he stood.
?

What?“ asked the man, startled by his j

r, vehemence into forgetfulness of the game of
‘» clu01ts which was occupying his idleness.
1’ “ That—that~woman?—girl?—what is she ?”
“That? Oh, that‘s Gentleman Sam's sister.
 A chpper!—flve stories an’ a basement!” replied
' the man, mixing his metaphor somewhat. .
“An’ who in blazes is Gentleman Sam’s sis-
ter?” demanded the first speaker, impatiently.
. “Wal, I reckon that tells the whole story—
Jest that an’ no more—Gentleman Sam’s sister. ”
“'Where does she live? What does she do?
W11? is she?” pursued the first speaker, biting

I“ oss, I’ll never tell!” replied the shopkeeper,
yVlth a grin. Then, catching an ominous learn
in the eye of his interlocutor, he added, “
kpn nobody don’t know nothin’ about her nur
him. The ’re two odd chicks as hoes their own
MW 911’ is abeled—‘ hands off 2’ ”

Without deignin a reply, the interrogator
turned upon his hee and strode off, more rapid-
ly than before, on his morning walk.

'“Great Cain, Bob, 'our ha’r set light fur a
? minute!” said one of the quoit-players, address-
' mg his colleague with a grin. ’

‘Sho! what fur?” asked the other.
‘ “ Do you know who that bang-up sharp is?”

“ No. Who in thunder is he?

-“One as ’ud jest as leave shove a rib-tickler
up under your jacket, I reckon, as to stow away
trip le-X tanglefoot—THE RED HAND!” '

“ ‘ho! you’re a-jokin’!”

But the s aker paled visibly.

Meanwh' e, The Red Hand, as he was called,
passed over the ground with long, ra id strides,
until he came to a saloon before w ich half a
dozen horses were tied. Uttering a peculiar

wmgf--.‘ ’
. ~

"-—

Whistle he vaulted into the saddle of one, and 5

set of! at a brisk trot.

His signal soon met with a response; for, issu- ;
uickly be— 1.

ing from the saloon, iive fellows
strode the remaining animals, and f0 lowed him
:17]: pace which would enable them to overtake

Other atrons of the o lounged to the
door an £0110wed the  forms of the
riders with sullen looks; and as the swept
along the street more than one brow arkened
With a frown of suspicion, if not of fear. Evi-
dently they were in no great favor in the town.

Meanwhile the leader of this gang was medl-
tatmg, his dark face expressive of exultant
triumph and merciless cruelty.

“By the ods of warI—if it is she! And it
S e is her mother’s very ima

thousand-fold beautifled- urifled.

What a revenge !——to possess her! if her mother

Were only alive to witness our nuptials! But

her father is somewhere on the earth; and he
, Shall know! When I have secured her I will

hunt him up. Ha! ha! we’ll be uits, after all
086 years! He has had his
. of mine; but now I am coming into its full
,fruition.
“Gentleman Sam’s sister! I must look into
at. Some alliance more romantic than re u-
mble. I am afraid; for I cannot be deceivet in
the Person. Perhaps my revenge may come in

Phat _Way. There is ever hing in association,

m spite of the cant about lood. The taste dis-

glayed in her dress is rather loud; and yet, by

over it’s becoming, and onions in its

Wu '3’
 this poin: lfiswgsninterrupted by the gal-
_ pace 0 o owers. rein
all illiltfiy he allowed them to come to was.
8 of the was below the average stature
0f mengget in other. respects, so as to be
jflme cal. He'hadsharpcut features almost
-‘ . en! hind his ‘bushy whiskers. One would

_.v'\ .

s. arse-PW” '

let,-

   
   
  
     
    

  

  
 

cut of feature; but, falling froma greater alti- ,
tude, he had sunk to greater depths of infamy '

I’m sorry, now, that I

he saw the girl whom we have described . _ . l i
when you can Without awa ening suspicwn, ‘

That he was no comA ! midable enemy than his larger and duller com- !

! 'ons. He rode next the chief, as by right.
im the leader addressed.
“ Larry,” he said, “where is Missouri Bill?”

! about town. He left us an hour ago.”

? “Hunt him up and bring him to the rendez-

vous. I have work for him. Stop!

that woman riding yonder?”
Nebraska Larry, for such was the name by

which he was known, glanced down the street

and saw the girl whom we have already de-

scribed. A scarcely perceptible cloud passed

; over his face, as he said:

; “Yes. W'ell?”

; “They call her Gentleman Sam‘s sister. I

, want you to follow her—she lives in the count?

9

somewhere about, in hiding I suspect—an
capture her. Take Joe and Quickstep with you.
See that you treat her with every couitesy; but
' she must be blindfolded of course, when ap-
proaching the Retreat. Now, off with you, and
Esplgrt as soon as you have accomplished your
“Sam and Dave, keep with me—or, better
et, let US scatter, and ook up Missouri Bill.
here is famous work before us, pals. If we
succeed, you shall not be without your reward.”
Leavigg the chief and his followers, Nebraska
Larry r e

ahead of the me who were to ac-
compan him. There was 9
face which he did not care 1.; have them see.

“Here is another!” he muttered, between his
clenched teeth and added with re ressed fierce-
ness:——“ How ion , oh Lord! how orig!”

It required skill ul maneuvering for three men
to follow a woman under that mid-day sun, all
being mounted; but Nebraska Larry proved
himself equal tothe task. IVatching Gentleman
Sail .: sister for some time, until she left the
town, L . rry allowed her then to ggt out of
sight, bu; {Allowed after, purposing come up
With her i ;_ n she was beyond the chance of
assistance.

His company had left the town two miles in
her rear w en he urged them to a gallop, keep-
in on the greensward at the side of the road,
w ere the tread of their horses could not be

 

rec- l

y. Ihada‘

l motion
1 the wor
! stra r

In

heard, so as not to alarm the pursued.
“ There she is men!" he cried, suddenly,
catching sight of ier at a turn in the road.

Gentleman Sam's sister had drawn her horse ;

back upon his haunches, and was gazing intent-
ly down the road. Several sharp reports in
quick succession gave some indication of what
was eng in her attention.

“Whats t t? Pistols!” exclaimed Quick-
ste “ Somebody’s in hot water.”

ell sounded from beyond the curve.
J “ ’s some of our gang, for sure!” cried

oe.

“ Forward, men!” commanded Nebraska Lar-
ry. “ We’ll bag our quarry, and perhaps help
our own men.”

Diggin his spurs into his horse’s flanks he took
fligsmid e of the road, followed by his satel-
Hearing the regular thud of horses’ hoofs
Gentleman Sam’s sister turned her head an
saw three men rushing down upon her at a
swinging gallop.

Joe and Quickstep gave an answering yell to

 

their pals, convincing the girl that they were '

colleagues. The next instant her horse leaped
forward, carrying her out of sight beyond the
curve, discharging a pistol down the road be-
fore her as she disappeared.

CHAPTER IV.
THE STRANGER.

LET us return to the Occidental Saloon, on
that terrible night. An awestruck silence in
weird contrast with the recent shout that had
died awa in so dismal a howl, fell 11 n the

! crowd. moment thus, and then Jim lug '
lea into the air and struck his feet togefi:
thrice ere he again reached the floor, yelhn :

“ Rake stakes, by thunder! an’ my tree. all

 

go, a , round!”
Hal hill;

“ Hold yer hosses, thar; that's foul!” shouted
1 Poker Tom.
The conqueror, retainin hold of his weapon
‘; as his antagonist fell, had drawn it from the
1' breast where its ioint had searched out the
3 secret s )X‘lllg's of 1i e. With a slash of the rock-
_ ing ' e be had cut the cord which bound him
7 to the dead, wiped its bloody blade on the
g tr0wsers of his fallen foe and turned toward his
! breathless second, as cool as if a score of hearts
! had not stood still and then leaped almost to
, bursting, only a moment before.
f _A single word had escaped his lips, spoken
, Wi‘tlbthe’iron implacability of a. Nemesis:
‘  )

_ Dr. Chillingworth had half extended his hand
_ in congratulation, and, again overcome by that
! mysterious repugnance with which the face of
j the other when clouded by a frown inspired

him had let it fall to his side. But the arrested
unobserved; for at that instant
of Poker Tom fell upon the ear of the

of a lion-taxman

¢

1 .
,/,A\'
, I
7.

  

“ I don’t know,” was the reply. “ Somewhere I
Do you see “

~ jubilant Jim, “an’ sling the balance over.

expression on his ,

tl’hewh round with’th
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IVith the example of his cad principal before

I his eyes, a glance was sufficient to cow Poker '

I Tom; and with the cringing air of a whipped
cur he replied:

“ Pard, I allow it’s all squar’. Ef so be yeou’re

j minded to set u as cock 0’ the walk, I reckon
thar won‘t no y interfere.”

To Jim Sluggins he added:

“ The money’s yeourn, an’ welcome.”

! “ Set ’em up fur the boys, Andy," cried the

. Quick come, quick go !——a nimble penny wants

to be kep‘ warm. Stand up in a line, hyar,»
1 boys! Roll up, tumble up! any way to git'up!
Strangers, I allow we don‘t want no suckin’
thumbs in a corner. This hyar pison’s prime,
an” free as the air ye breathe! Come up an’ le’s
have a jingle all roun’!”

The last words were addressed to Dr. Chilling-
worth and Major Gravesend, who had not re-
sponded to the hospitable invitation as promptly
‘ as the rest. ,

“Etiquette demands compliance of us. It's
drink or fight in this delectable region,” w’his- .
pered the major; and he and the doctor ranged ‘

. themselves with the rest forthwith.
! “ Hyar’s to—” began Jim Slug 'ns, raisin his 
glass, and then aused and looked1 inquiring y at ‘-
. the hero of the iour.
‘ “The Stranger,” was the quiet reply, with a.
‘ sli ht inclination of the head. -
‘very one looked a little surprised at th
! myste with which the man chose to sm‘i‘ound
i himsel ; but in the West, men get used to almost ' . ,—
, everything; and with a slight elevation of the ‘ 
brows, Jim continued: ' ‘ ‘ 1
l “ Hyar’s to The Stranger—ma he never!
= want fur a squar‘ meal ur a toothfu o’ pison!”
E I‘Vhen this characteristic toast was drunk ofl’,
! Dr. Chillingworth and the major resumed their
‘ seats, while the other occupants of the room .
, gathered in small knots and discussed  low - ,
! tones the tragedy which had just been enacted, 
; in their presence, with looks of awe at the" t gr:
! ghastly corpse which lay in the center of the ¥~_
! oor, and of curiosity and respect at the con-V ‘ '_
; queror. . .
The Stranger was detained a moment longlei: 
, at the bar by Jim Sluggi'ns, who grasped ‘
!. hand enthusiastically and cried; I ~ 
i “ Boss, that war the purtiest dodge I ever see! ‘\ 3,
Ef it warn’t I’ll eat in hea'd—dinged er I don’t! . 2‘ 
Lord! when I see t iat buffaler—calf a-takin’ , ‘
water, I wanted a million to put up on yer!——; «,3
blowed of I didn't !” " "

The Stranger made a common-place re 1y, ‘
and getting away from his admirer,  to
resume his clothes. , \ a ._

Some of the sternnass had now passed outof ‘ 'j
his face, and Dr. Chillingworth felt the interest
which he had at first experienced for the 
take the place of the repugnance excited byhis .
frown, sufficiently to permit him to extend bps r. ‘
hand and say: N 

“ Let me congratulate you on the fortimateisy.’ 
sue of this afiair. I can almost say that you""~_l7
have done society a service by ridding it of web ,’ »

a v1 r.” n ‘
“f’eve rubbed out an old score, and that’sall  '
‘ the satisfaction I ask,” replied The {Strangern _; ‘  ‘-
A ‘n that look which caused Dr. Chi ', , ‘
wo h to shrink away almost shuddering .,‘.
disgust. , ‘ -
" Where have I seen that face?” be though .
l as The Stranger was donning his clothes. ‘ Is
it hatred that I feel, orwhat? Yet at other ’_ 'y .
times I feel as if I should like him as a friend; ..g 
It is very strange. I cannot understand it.” ' \  .
A slight puncture just over the heart, and ‘
min from it a white scratch, where, the x:
int 0 the bowie had ranged across his
at not dee enough to draw blood were v
only marks The Stranger bore from the terrible _
encounter. When he had resumed his cloth V 
he carelessly lighted a cigar, and taming to t e  .
doctor said: ’ ‘ ,_ ; ,
“Sir, I never forget a friend, though I some: 
times forgive a foe. If in the future you ever»
stand in need, believe me, I shall be ready, 
with' my life, if necessar n” "   ,
Again the doctor felt the impulse  .'.
him to seek to know more of this man; at / if.
the remembrance of that strange frown he-
checked the feeling, and let him depart Without
fiu'ther advances. , :
With the imperturbable coolness that charm-i.
terized his every movement, The Stranger turn— f.
ed and walked toward the door' but he was, it!- ‘
tercepted by the stripling mWilose quarrel _
had interfered. . r. '"4 -. -
“ Pardner,” said the youth, in a sweet, ‘ltidfk-
voice, “I reckon I owe you thanks for 14m: _
out that lubbe’rly galoot. It was a   , - _

s
._ .
, .

 

via
I

 

but you done it Jest the pm'tiest out—yet;
fur a fact!” I w .
The S r' stopped and took the pnifl'erod ,

hand of the youth. As he ressed it in his 
, hastened and 100 ed atit. It was
and shapely as a woman’s though was»
edb exposure. The build of the youth‘was'in —- "
kee . He was below the medium height, "
et slender in proportion. ‘ g ‘ ‘
._ immed felt hat, set‘ jauntin on his},
. Abonthisshouldemwashuddled in
lo: fashion, ammunit- .

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_.
‘ ' though he did not seem em arrassed by it. For
the rest, he were top boots that came to the
glee, and his Weapons appeared secured by :1.

Something like interest came into the eyes of
311121  as he gazed; and he replied in a cor-
no:

my own pur es. You’re a dauntless little

- cuss, yoursel . What must I call you? But,

what ’t’ioes it matter? I may never see you

t ‘ m.

9 old misanthropic look returned to his
countenance, and the hard lines reappeared
about his lips as he half turned away.

The eyes of the youth flashed angrily. His
delicate pink nostrils grew white and quivered
with resentment. He drew himself erect with
a gesture that made more than one of the rude
spectators think him fit to be a young prince;

~ and his voice was tremulous with wounded

vanit , as he re lied:

you don’t care to know my

handle—” -

The duelist turned suddenly and bent upon the
youngster a penetrating scrutiny. He had that
rare, ma etic glance, that calm gravity of

' \look whic abates passion. With a quiet dignity

which made all who saw it feel that he was not
of them, thou h mingling with them, be ex-
tended his han and said:

, “I beg your pardon. It was a momentary
~ ’ weakness. I am not indifferent. On the con-
. trary your coolness has caused me to feel a live-

r lflnwrest in you. What shall I call you if we

c, nce to meet again?”

- A smile like a burst of sunshine lit up the

- face of the youth. Impulsiver he clasped the

. extended hand of The Stranger in both his small

ones.

“Oh, we shall meet fast enough,” he said.

, “ But—do you really care to know?’
. - How like a girl’s his voice sounded. He looked
' shyly out from under his long, curved lashes;
d‘ the color came into his cheeks as soft as the
b ushes of a maiden. But for the silken, black
_ mustache and the bluish speckson cheek and
' chin with which some faces alwa s bear testi-
xmony of the shaven heard, The S ranger could
almost have supposed himself in the presence of
‘ -, alwoman. Looking at him, he said to himself:
In .‘ “What a little sensitive— lant!

He has been
.. lanted in rude soil, I ear. Ah, well! life
/ is of s e vicissitudes.”
‘ ‘ Aloud he sai : I
“ Certainly. I should very much like to lmow
yom‘ name if on do not ob 'ect. ”
“ ell, l’ve ascore 0 names, I reckon—

~ a new one in every lace—Gentleman Sam,
'1 ’ Dandy Tom, Patent-lea her Joe, and so on. But
 . a moment a you said I was dauntless. I like
« 1 a " that better han any of the rest. Suppose you
; 'call me that.”

“Dauntless? Dauntless what?

I “ 0h; almost any handle’ll fit—Tom, Dick, or

 _ -.“ let it be, then. Dauntless Jerry! I
“'5’ don’t be eve I’ve heard the last of that name.
stud-night!” . .

 With that he turned, and drawm up his
“1' coat-collar, stepped across the threshol out into
“  drinlinfi mm of the murky night.

\1‘3Th6 yout called after him:

“ If you have, I lose my guess! But ain’t you

; fringe! to return the com liment? What am
re. to ll folks when they who chawed up the
, W bully in seven counties?” .

" 2 pa for the reply. Turnm and glanc-
" "ingoy'er the expectant faces the due 1st said:

, 1 If anyone asks you, tell them it was—a

 . A moment, and the night had swallowed him
 up in its blackness. .

“ What do you think of him?” asked the doc-
" ' , ,tor of Major Gravesend while a murmur o
’1 ~ “din tment ran round the room.

 a shru the major replied:

“ It’s‘one o the many curious phases of hu-
Lman nature a man meets with in this Western
" ' country. Had he said his name was John Smith,
' 'he would have been forgotten by to-morrow;
but. as ‘ The Stranger,’ it will not take long for
. him to become quite a celebrity.”
. ' t “ I should think not, if he carves up men like
 . ‘Mevery day ” replied the doctor.

 “Hum h! ne such exploit may give a man
a repute which will last a lifetime. Rumor
will multiply it a hundred fold, until there is a
" prevalent opinion that he lays out his man every
138me breakfast,  to get an appe-
tite. e simple name of The Stranger ’ will
'wbea ter protection to him than if he were

* ' ’ arsenal.”

w
' ’ “ No one can deny that he is a cool hand. But
I, {pose we have seen all there is to see to-
‘a. ,1!

Shall we return to the hotel? It is late.”
,‘ .. you please.” ,
‘ Asthe ms or rose something slitgpcd from the
oldsofhisooakand fell upon .
' it up with a sharp exclamatxon.‘
.. '“ Ha The Strangers picture.”
" ~ ‘And heheld up e miniature.
“  , , itin his pockethemust'have—J’

never thesentence. No
manure-n so 
 7.,(rifiv‘cclam ,.‘_{,_

   
   
    

    

  

w».-

in

  

1:

 

“ You owe me no thanks, since I was pursuing r

e floor. The ‘

 

g as if it would im de his movements, 1 features than he stopped and gazed as if fasci-

nated. \

“ What is it?” asked the major, struck by his
strange behavior.

But Dr. Chillingworth did not heed, if indeed
he heard him.

At the same moment the door of the saloon
was thrown violent], open, and a dark-brewed
ruflian entered wit a swagger that showed
that he meant to have his own way, “or know
the reason why.”

Instantly a hush fell upon the crowd, while an
apprehensive whisper ran from man to man:

“THE RED HAND!”

He had taken but two ste within the room,
when his eyes fell upon the g astly corpse which
still lay untouched in the center of the floor.
An instant he stood like a man of stone, his eyes
distended with wonder and incredulit ; then
with a fierce oath he leaped forward, am kneel-
ing beside the dead man, raised his limp hand
from the floor.

\Vhile the eyes of the crowd were riveted u n
this scene, Dauntless Jerry glided up to r.
(Jhillingworth, and plucking him by the sleeve,
said hurriedly:

“ Pardner, I guess we’d better not make our-
selves so numerous around hyer, if we know
what’s health . That thar galoot’s a reg’lar old
grizzly, you t! and he’ll est naterally chaw
up everything a] ‘ everybo y that had a hand
in rubbin’ out his lard, sure! ’

But the doctor 'eemed deaf to all appeals,
even when Major (J . ivcsend attempted to lead
him from the room.

“Stranger, you’ll git massacred, sure!” urged
Dauntlcss Jerry.

Something in his voice caught the doctor’s ear,
and he looked up, gazing full in the youth’s face.

One strange proceeding must here be mention-
ed. Notwithstanding his evident desire that The
Stranger should take an interest in him , unt-
less Jerry had, during all their intcr‘ ,x, kept
his back to the light, and his broad-‘ .uned hat
slouched over his brows, so that, ..i the uncer-

‘ tain light of the ilacc, The Stranger had had no

clear view of is face. Now, however, the
youth’s hat was tossed back, and the light from
a lamp, just above the table at which the doctor
and major had been sitting, fell full upon his
countenance.

At something which he saw there, all the color
faded from Dr. Chillingworth’s face, and clutch-
ing the youth by the shoulder, with a hand that
shook as with palsy, he cried:

“ Boy, in heaven’s name, who are you?”

Jerry started back in dismay at the intense
emotion of the other; but, had he answered, his
voice would have been drowned b a yell of
bias hemous rage that rung throug,r 1 the room.

“ how me the man that did this! Show him
tome, and I’ll tear his black heart out of his
body?”

And THE RED HAND leaped tohis feet, foam-
ing at the mouth as he glared around.

CHAPTER V.
'r H E R E D H A N D.

IT was a strange spectacle. The bartender
had abandoned his post to mingle with the
crowd outside the bar, apprehensive that his
conspicuous position might make him a tar et
for he unreasoning rage of the mfflan w o,
in the first moment of wild passion, might seek
at random some victim upon whom to wreak his
vengeance. The patrons of the saloon, in no less
trepidation, had shrunk away toward the sides
of the wall, no one desiring to attract particu-
lar attention to himself.

In the center of the open space lay the inani-
mate and blood form of the vanquished duel-
ist. His eyes, alf open, were covered with the
dull, bluish laze of death and his heavy brows
wore a scow even more ideous than when in
life. From his pierced breast had ebbcd the
red tide of life, until it lay upon the floor in a
dull, clotted 1. All unconscious now the
hand that at grasped the murderous knife—all
nerveless the arm that but a moment ago
sou ht to give it a fatal impulse!

A ve him stood the man whose bloody deeds
had earned for him the name of THE RED HAND.
His top boots, armed with Mexican 8 ms, the
array of weapons in his belt his broad rimmed
slouched 'hat and above all his shaggy black
brows and disordered beard, gave him a bri-
gandish appearance, and went far to produce
the terror is presence inspired in the breasts of
the rude men with whom he came in contact.
At present he stood with cocked pistol, his form
quivering, his eyes blazigg With fury; and
might fll have persona some fiend of de-
struction.

“Speak, you cowardly curs!” he yelled in a
voice of thunder. “IV ho has done this eed?”

“ Pardner, I reckon 1—”

“Air yeou the man?” demanded The Red
Hand, instantly covering the heart of Poker
Tom with his pistol.

“ No! no!” yelled the terrified Tom, throwing
up his hands in token of with

“ Is he ‘the man?” rsisted 0 Red Hand, re—
ferring to the crow , while his finger still trem-

bled on the r. ch at to
a orus voices, PM
excitement. 1 ‘ 7 ' ,

 

 

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I HEMwheninmposawmea

The Red Hand seemed to lowerhis weapon
with reluctance.

“ What do you know about it?” he demanded
with unabated fury. “ Speak quick, ur I
bore you an way!”

“ Regrettmg his share in the afl'ray and not
assured that it would not eventuate in ' death,
Poker Tom hastened to say:

“ It was in a squar’ set-to, an’ he chose me fur
his second.”

“ You acted as his second in a fight?”

“ That’s it, boss. I’d oke a good word fur
’im afore he come in. I ad money what said
thar want no two-legged galoot in these hyar
galiits what (last to look squint-eyed at Missouri

1 , an ——

“ Did some one pick a quarrel with him?”

“ Wal, no—not adzackly. Yer see he pushed
ther boy’s whisky aside, an’ ther leetle cuss
tuck it up ri ht peert, an’—-”

“ Boy! I hat b0 '? No boy did that! Do
yeou take me fur a 001?”

“ Hold on, boss. The boy didn’t do it.”

“Didn’t yeou say a boy? Come, out with it.”

And The Red Hand fingered the tri ger of his
wca on nervousl and scowled a blac menace.

“ didn’t say t at ther boy done it,” replied
Poker Tom, with the nervousness of a man who
is handling a hot coal.

“ What did yeou sa ?” yelled The Red Hand.

“ Wh , yer see the y tuck it up, an’ allowed
as how 6 was a-usin’ of his paw too free.”

f“ W’ell! well! Cut yeour story short! What
0 it.

“Then Bill he made fur to cuff the feller’s
years; but ther leetle cuss he flung his drink
intoABill’s face quicker’n greased lightnin’ l”

‘ boy?

“ A chap of eighteen ur twenty, I reckon.”

“ Flung his Whisky into Missouri Bill’s face?”

The astonishment of The Red Hand plainly
amounted to incredulity.

“ That’s what he done,” declared Poker Tom.
“I reckon over body see’d it plain enough.”

“And did B' shoot the leetle idiot? Where
is he?”
“ Wal, no. He—”

“Didn’t shoot him? Air yeou lyin’ to me?
Do yeou mean to say that Missouri Bill ’ud
stand any such thing from any man alive?-
much less a boy!”

“ Wal, yer see Bill he drawered on him; but
the other feller be t ther drop on Bill from
behind, an’ ’ud ’a’ sal him afore—”

“ The other feller? What other feller?”

“ I reckon thar don’t nobod know his proper
handle; but he called hisself 'Fher Stranger.’

“ Humph! What was he like ?—short or tall—
heav or light? Describe him!”

“ \ a1, he wan’t so tallish, nur yet so short
neither. But he was nerve-y, yeou bet! I’d
qualify a lick from his bunch o’ fives ’ud feel
like a ick from a blind—”

“ Stow yer opinions! Wa’n’t thar any car-

mar

“ He had dark brown hair, a mustache o’ the
same, gray eyes—onless I disremember—”

“ Perdition! Any man might have dark hair
an’ ay eycs l” ,_

“ ow I think on it, he had a scar on the left

tem le—”
“ ah! Dark hair,

gray eyes an’ a scar on
the:1 le’ft temple? Was e here? When? Where
is e? .

The Red Hand held his weapon in readiness,
and lared around as if he expected some se-
cre foe to spring forth and confront him.
Was it fear or hatred that blanched his face
and made his form tremble. The spectators
were uzzled to determine.

“ e wa’n’t one two minutes when you come
in,” replied Po er Tom.

“And this is his work?”

“ I reckon he done it.”

“How did it come about? Make few words!
—I can’t stop h ar all night!”

“ Bein’s that he Stranger had t the dead-

wood on him in a way that didn’t cave him no '

show, Bill challenged him fur a squar’ stand-111p-
an’-toe-the-mark. The Stranger allowed 0
could stand that: so Bill he tuck me fur his
second, and The Stranger he tuck the gent over
thar in the corner—”

“ tho?” cried The Red Hand.

Instantly he wheeled, glared for a moment
upon Dr. Chillin vorth, and then leaped for—
ward with a how of fury, his revolver explod-
ing at the same instant.

CHAPTER VI.
rm: ram RESCUER.

ONE more retrogression, dear reader, and then
our story will march steadily forward to its

\ denouement.

The Red Hand and the major were not the

only persons who were struck by the a pear-
ance of Gentleman Sam’s sister as she e into
town one bi’lght and beautiful morn . Seated

on the steps of the hotel, while the gir rode by
was the man who in the evemng announ

himself as The Stranger. He was quietly smok-
ing, as seemed to be his custom, and thout
up to W 390111118 3V8"? 
onw

   

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’ sudden exclamation of wonder.

" naut hatred, muttered:

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pression, as the face of one who felt that the 1

world had given him stabs in the back instead
of meeting him fairly face to face.

Suddenly it 1i hted up wonderfully, awave
of enthusiastic a iration sweeping over it and
transflguring it. All the apathy of the moment
before fled, carrying the bitterness With it.

“Great Heaven 1” he muttered—“ what a

vision! Was ever anything more lovely! What 5

beauty of form and coloring—what grace—
What rare delicacy !”

His eyes were riveted on Gentleman Sam’s ‘

sister with an eagerness that drank in every
charm. He note the poise of the head—the
firm yet delicate touch on the bridle rein—.the
graceful conformity of the body to the motions
of the horse.

His intent gaze drew the e e of Gentleman *

Sam’s sister. She started t on flushed—not
with vexation, he knew. .l‘lo; for a half-smile
of pleasure parted her lips, while her eyes lm—
gerel, as if by some subtle fascmation.

Then came a deeper flush, anl her eyes were
turned away evidently with an effort. The
Stranger felt with a heart-thrill that the attrac-
tion was mutual.

On rode the girl, with her face set resolutely ,

down the street. She knew that he was follow-
ing her with his e es, and could hardly prevent
her own from see in his again.

“ He is a man!” s e mused.
know, and true to the death.
with these beasts of prey, who call themselves
men, by which we are surrounded!”

He is brave, I

Meanwhile, The Stranger had arisen, keenly 

interested.

“I must know her,” he mused. “I have
traveled the world to find such a woman. In
all the thousands she is the first worthy of the
name. Hallo, landlord! “'ho is that?’

“ Who? Where?” asked the landlord, starting
out of a doze, and gazing about in bewilder-
m

came back, more bitter by'way of reaction
from that momentary lightning.

And. beneath his breath:

“She would turn out like all the rest. I’ve
had slaps enough to rest content, one would 3
think.”

Then aloud, again:

“ Have a cigar?”

And be tossed one to the landlord, as compen-
sation for having disturbed his slumbers. !

As if the sight of Gentleman Sam’s sister had ‘

\Vhat a contrast ,

ent.
In that instant The Strangers mind under- 1
went a sudden revolution. The old cyniCism ,

“ Bah l” he sneered, “it is of no consequence.” i the curve,

. whelp!’ I reckon you‘re my meat!” was
challen e.

The Stranger glanced over his shoulder, at
. the sound of a breaking twig in his rear, and
saw a second rider, also in mask, come into the
road behind him. A frowning istol made his
urpose sufficiently )lain. *vidently, The
tranger was surroun ed.
E Most men would have blanched before such
; an assault.
stuff. Besides, something in the voice of the
challlcnger awoke a strange thrill in his breast.

tt 9V6
through his mind.
now, surrender or not.
not be shot like a dog, at any rate!”

l

i

“It means death to me

instant.
Shots from front and rear replied, and with
: aycll The Red Hand—for it was he—dug his
‘ spurs into his horse for a charge.
The Stranger fired again.
With a cry of ain and terror The Red
Hand’s horse stumb ed to his knees, then strug-
led to his f cet end leaped to one side at a third
ash from The Strantrer’s pistol. So abrupt were
the movements of the agile animal that The
Red Hand was unseated, and would have fallen
? to the round but for a foot clinging to the stirrup
and a and clutched in the horse's mane. Panic-
stricken, the animal s (1 past The Stranger at
i a pace that prevented 5 master from regaining
his osition in the saddle.
elling to increase his terror, The Stran er
‘ turned to see why the other enemy had not 01-
IOch up the attack and put a bullet through
his back.
I But the fellow was already down in the road
, on his face dead, seemingly, and a voun<r girl—
, the same The Stran er ha seen ridin t irough
, the town—was clutc iin the bridle of iis horse,
in that moment of beWilderment between find-
ing itself riderless and running away.
‘Quick! Mount and away!” cried Gentle-
man Sam’s sister. “ There are others around
coming down upon us like the

wind!”

.The Stranger needed no second bidding. Run-
mu beside the horse, like a circus rider, he
vau ted lightly into the saddle.

A flash of admiration lighted the girl’s eyes,
as she witnessed his horsemanshi . Then she

ave the bridle-rein into his han and struck

er own horse with her whip. This was in a
measure to cover a flush t at leaped to her

introduced a train of disagreeable thoughts, The  cheek, called there by a look in The Stranger’s

Stranger walked off down the street, chewing ;
the end of his cigar, the while a painful frown
contracted his brows. .

“ Like all the rest!” he muttered—“fair and
hello w—hearted. ”

He had gone scarcely two blocks when a com—
Eany of five men gallo d by. They were The

ed Hand, Missouri ill. and three of their
followers. Missouri Bill was in advance, The
Red Hand following in conversation with one ;
of the men.

When The Red Hand saw The Stranger he
threw his horse upon his haunches, uttering a

So absorbed was The Stranger in his own
thoughts that he paid no heed to the riders, nor
did he know that he had attracted such marked
re ards from one of their number. Uncon-
scmus, he ke t on down the street, while The
Red Hand following him with a scowl of malig-

‘_‘ Three times and out! And this time I know
my man! It is the devil’s favor that I have
stumbled u n him without his seeing me. But
he is so c anged that but for that scowl, I
might have passed him h unrecognized. There
are but few men with a rown like his.”

Then turnin to the men, he said:

“ Here, La P atte Jake, tell Bill to set about
the business I gave him to do, and come you
with me.” I ‘ ,

The man rode forward to where Missouri Bill ‘
had drawn rein, delivered his message and re-
turn d

e .
’ The Red Hand and his satellite now dis-
mounted, hitched their horses and began to dog
the footsteps of The Stranger.
, Soon he left the town, walking along the
country road with his eyes fixed medita ively
on the ground. .

“ He’sour mutton l” exclaimed The Red Hand,
exultantly. “This is the last that’ll be seen of
him. No man don’t cross my path and live

~ from loss of h

dark eyes that devoured her face.

This second and nearer view of her acted like
ma ic. He saw her anima face and eyes
flas ling with excitement; and before her heroic
loveliness his cynicism fled away into forgetful-

ness.

“Thanks, lady,” he said, gallant and self—pos-
1 sensed, even in the imminent danger that men-
] aced them. “Do I owe my life to you? \Vas
it 'our hand that squared the accounts of that
v‘ lain f”

“ I did not wish to kill him, and I hope I have
not,” she replied; “but it seemed to be your
life or his; so I fired the shot.” .

“It was bravely done,” said The Stranger.
“Few of your sex would have had the nerve
and address.”

Further conversation was interrupted by a

ell, as four horsemen swept around the curve
in hot )ursuit.

The orse of The Red Hand had been checked
by Nebraska Larry, and the chagrined chief
a lowed to assume an easier position for rapid
riding. Then, wild with rage, The Red Hand
had wheeled his horse, and biddin the others,
 11110 V613; elggantt phiilase, to {(1)111 ow, s urred

sorse aranicgao in' ca and
ribaldry between his teeth?’ gr g

But his horse, though a good one, was wound-
ed, and soon began to show signs of weakness

. ood. All useless to goad him
cruell With the spur; oaths and execrations
were ut empty air; he fell behind. Not, how-
ever, until he stumbled and fell from exhaus-
tion did the baffled and enraged ruflian give
over the chase.

But, we leave him with his chagrin, to follow
the )ursued.

T e danger, left behind, for the time at least,
had almost sli out of the minds of The
Stranger and ls fair rescuer. Both had evi-
dently seen peril before; and once beyond the
reach of immediate harm, they gave themselves
up to pleasanter thoughts.

 

long to blab about it!”
ith rapid strides, he and La Platte Jake
sought a'ram their horses, leaped into the sad-
dle, and dashed out of town by another road. .‘
Meanwhile, all unconscious of the danger that
threatened him, The Stranger rode on, taking
the road traversed a little later by Gentleman
Sam’s sister. An hour's walk took him into the '
depths of the woods, when an abrupt challenge i

roused mm from his meditations. i

Starting and looking up, he saw a masked ‘
rider ust issuing from the under
the road. The horseman w in the

the road and presented a cocked

, no injury, though yet pursu

 

Far enough beyond pistol ragge to apprehend
, they yielded
themselves to those sweet sensations which at-
tend the birth of mutual love. To The Stranger
Gentleman Sain’s sister was a dream of loveli-
ness, grace,th —a revelation of all that is
compasscd in the beautiful word woman; while
the girl’s heart swelled with a new, delicious
Joy, as it enthroned him king.
‘Lady,” said he, with a strange feeling of

wth that  reverence upon him, “ I owe. on my life. and it

Y
isbutflttingthat it should henceforth bededi-
catedtoyou. ‘HayIkuowrhnmIamto

. l
“Throw up your hands, you doggauned

The Stranger was made of no such .
, in her veice—shc said:

heard that voice before!” flashed-

lVell, if die it is, I’ll ,
f world.”

Without a word in response, he leaped to one i
side, drawing his pistol and firing it at the same 
‘ face displaying blended emotions a sort of glad- I

 

 
    
 
     
 
    
   
  
     
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
  
    
  
  
  
   
   
  
   
    
    
 
   
   
   
 
 
 
   
    
    
   
   
   
 
   
    
  
  
    
   
   
    
   
  
   
   
   
     
   
    
   
    
      
   
  
   
     
     

A flush overspread the 'rl’s face, accompanied
by a look of pain. C011 (1 she mar those first
delightful moments by telling him that she
rested under a cloud of doubt? But her innate
truth and bravery asserted themselves. If they
were to be friends—for then she had no other
conscious thought—there must be no false views
between them. If he valued her not according
to her own worth, then was he univorthy.

Taming, then—not, however, without humid
eyes, trcmulous lips, and a shade of bitterness

“ I’l’ho am I! I am what you see. I can tell
you no more. Others boast their line e——I‘ ~ ‘
have none. I never knew even a mother’s ove. '

I have not a known relative in all the whole

Unconsciously The Stranger drew nearer her. ‘1.
“ I can sympathize with you,” he said, his

ness struggling with its pain. ‘Z “’c are atone ' '
there. I never knew a mother’s love.” ‘ .
“ Indeed!" said the girl. " How I ity oul” ,_
And, in her sorrow, she extended er d, f...
to rest it on his arm. A. . '
Thrilled to his heart of hearts by the light ‘
touch which, though she knew it not, meant so '
much, The Stranger bent swiftly and touched '
the back of her hand with his 1i . " ' ,
It was an impulsive act. He hid not thought ”
to startle the emotions which were unconscious— ,_
1y taking form in her breast. He saw his want _
of consideration when she snatched her hand - '
awa with a quick cry, and reined her horse
furt er from him. ‘ , ' ‘ “
“ Pardon me,” he said, retrievin his error as  
best he could. “ I have had but ow words of ' V I
kindness in my desolate life. It was but the . '
measure of my gratitude that one true woman .... 
should really give me her fricndshi .” ~ , . f> 
His words were well chosen. y woman,  4
especially a yloung one, would respond to such " 
an appeal. is life was desolate, lac the, ' 
balm of womanly sympathy. How richly   '
Would she endow him of her abundance! g; ’
Her bosom swelled with an emotion that made .» ' f
her eyes humid. She drew nearer ’ again, "
all her confidence restored, and was about to
make he knew not what cl uent repl ; but as ,.
that instant ahurtling soun rcache their   " ,
The Stranger knew the sound. Before he saw i “ - “
it, he knew that a long line was runninng s
from the roadside, and, at its end, a circling _:
noose was ready to drop about himself or his. 2.,
companion, if not both. 2/  ',
He raised his eyes just in time to see the (1311-  112'
ger, thrust forth his arm and strike the noose,',  in;
so as to save the girl, she assisting his urpo‘se ‘- ‘ if?
by swaying her body to one side. At t 9 same .
instant he threw his horse upon his hauncha,’
and bowed himself to the animal’s withers. " x " -
As it was, the lath nearl plucked him  / ‘
the saddle as it scraped his I: and shoulders.". ..
But the horse received a rt of thelshock', the ‘\
loop falling partly over his head, as he tossed it'  ,
in the air, wrenchin his neck violently, and a E‘,‘$':~
complete] terrifying im. ‘3. g 23’ ,LI
A yell roni their enemies showed that theyw {41'
were witnesses to this new attack on the, ‘ ‘ “‘ .“ '
sued; and instantly afterward the caster o the  “
lasso cw from the undergrowth at the ads ,
of the , with presented pistol. , .
With a wild snort of pain and terror The .-.
Stranger’s horse dashed down one of the forks r-J
of the read, while the animal, ridden by Gentle- 1.: 
man Sam’s sister, in 8 its of her efforts to it:th
contrary, took the ot er. An ineffect shot» ‘
from the new foe only served to qui the I
pace of the terrified animals. _ -
The Stran r had just consciousness en
to cling to  horse, without attemfiieting L
guide him, while he was being home knew I
not whither. His bewildered brain could m5. ,‘ '
but an imggfect conception of time. An inter: .
val of he w not how loanlfi‘was terminated by Z ”
ashock;andallwasabl . . * f.
en The Stranger recovered consciousness 7“
he found himself lying beside the road, Whileijf
the animal he had bestridden nibbled the coarse; =8.
grassbeside him. Thebo hofanoak, sdri "
y the lightning that it retched out
ously across the way, indicated how he ,,
been swept from the horse's back, While the
bridle, twisted about h' wrist, showed why 
had not been abandon by the animal. " *
Far down the road, where it disa .
thecrestofahill,hecouldseetedar '
West, the sun havin disappeared  :
clouds, that left only re  there patches of
din sk yet visible. Judging from this, he I,
had ' ghere for several hours unconscious. 
Risin ,stiff and sore with his fall and the 
strain 'tion in which he had lain while the
dew fell eav and chlll, he mounted  a
and retraced ' steps taward the ark of the .
road where he  become separa "from Gen
tleman Sam’s Sister. Evidently his oes had
given over thfimpursuit of him. Had she '
escaped? Or they left him to pursue ,‘ ’”
more closely? ‘ .'
A ride of scarcely a mile brought himjo.

 

 

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spot he sought but in the thenng' loom; w-
seamhed fruitless! for in cationsof' 1-9
fate. In vain he ‘ ‘ '

 
  

    

 
 

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L’ , holding Dauntless Jerry

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 “are they!

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found where a horse had fallen and stru gled to
his feet again; but then the night settl down,
hurrying clouds bringing swift darkness, and he
was denied time to stud its significance.

With a feeling in his reset, when he thought
of the girl whose fate was thus involved in un-
certainty, which he would not have thought
possible on so short an acquaintance, and in—
spired by one whose name even he did not yet
know he turned, to retrace his steps to the

, town lie had left that afternoon, on foot; and
to confront his assailants again, that very night,
in a remarkable manner.

 

CHAPTER VII.
THE asp HAND IN CHANCERY.

. CONCURRENT with the scene depicted in the
fifth cha ter was the by-play in which Dr. Chil-
lingwort , Major Gravesend, and Dauntless
J were engaged.

1th the mysterious picture in one hand, and

by the shoulder with
the other, Dr. Chillingwort gazed into the face

- of the youth with a look in which memory was

ping through the shadows of the past for
" gale lest clue.

Dauntless Jerry offered no resistance, nor did
he have recourse to his weapons, with which he
' He shrunk away, not
, with apprehension ut onl startled with the

suddenness of the doctor’s c utch.

Not heeding the wild yell of the Red Hand,
which prevented Jerry from replying, Dr. Chil-
lin orth repeated his question, unconsciously
aha ing the youth in the intensity of his emo-
tion.

“ Boy! boy!” he cried, “who are you? What
are on ’

“ reckon I hain’t nothin’ but what you see,”
replied Dauntless Jerry, the dan r which
threatened himself and the doctor or the mo-

U ‘ ment driven from his mind by the magnetic

or of his interlocutor’s passion.
’ “ But our parents—who are they ?—where
‘ 7
“ Gov’nor, I allow I’ll have to pass. I’ve been
up that’stump a hen 0’ times; an’ I never got
no further than yeou at the present writin’.”
“Are not they living? Where is your home?”
“-‘Stum ag’in, boss, by the fust question.
fur t other, I reckon my home’s wherever I
my washin’ done, by the law 0’ the State.”
our family—your father and mother?”
“ I rec on I never had none.”

" '-  “ Never had a father and mother!”

.1 

. “‘ Leastways, they’ve never come to chalk, to
knowledge.”

Don’t you know who your nts are?”

‘.. “. Never seen nobody what claimed me. Reck-

x 'on they’ve got lost, if thar ever was anybod

V . what I belonged to. Do you know any alch?

3' allow I’d lik? to find ’em jest fur the curiosity
7 ' 1

’ .
“0

thethmg

if . Dauntless Jerry looked wistfully into the doc-

; tor’s face. A new ho

was ringing up in his
breast, that render him ob ivious to the vi-
cinity of The Red Hand, and to the mischief it

I 'ml t portend for him.

‘_ t hinuelf, said, in

e doctor gazed into his face, forgetful of
everything else, and, as if communing with
a hoarse whisper:

“Who is it? Where have I seen it before?
and yet I seem so near.
! is it hopeless?”

in silence until his eyes became
th tears from sheer disappointment.
' Dauntless Je returnedhisfixed gaze, stand-

gfectly , ' l, scarcely daring to breathe,
lest should break the chain of the other’s

ins
 '~ thoughts. He saw the‘ tears start in the doc-

' . tor’s e es and the lines of care doc

11, until he
'  an old 11:18.11 inhhisd 1(iillspondency.
n thinking that e mig tai ' memory
ehtured to ask: ’
I: look like any one yeou used to know?
man or a woman?’

 doctor dashed the tears from his eyes,

 lifting the youth’s hat, gazed at him even
‘ y The boy’s brow Was as white as snow, though
the lower part of his face was bronzed b ex-

. In marked contrast with his fore ead

-. 'm .the (jet black hair that lay in silken rings.
’ ’An 0d

ression flitted across his face and

"Elle flushed ' tly, ashe sald: I

 , . ~“ Never (1 the ha’r—that might be almost

1 any color. But (1 I look like any one yeou
 ever knowed?” «

...S thetic tears'cametohisees ache
 face so that the light coiin fall full

 upon it, in his eagerness to assist the other’s
 suddenly a great wave of crimson swe t

 

 his face; and with a startled look e

averted his face again, and snatching his hat
 the doctor put it on so that it shaded his

In his disap intmont Doctor Chillm' gworth
' tofesl p0 ' atthisstrangeprocedure.
onl shook head d dentl and said:
esmecom—

.,‘ O

the lasso. A quarter of a mile down the road I At this
which Gentleman Sam’s sister had taken, he '

 
  

 

themlr

int they were interrupted 6123'
voice of ajor Gravesend, who call out
warnin 1y:

“ Loo out! We’re in for it!”

Doctor Chillingworth and Dauntless Jerry
turned just in time to see The Red Hand crouch-
ing like an animal about to spring, his wolflsh
e es riveted upon the doctor, his left hand
0 utching the hilt of his bowie—knife, while in
his right a cocked revolver hung at his side.

With a yell that began in a rattling growl
and swelled into a perfect shriek of fury, the
rufilan leaped toward his intended victim, uno
consciously (Pulling u n the trig er, so that the
bullet was ischar through t e floor at his
feet. Dro ping the revolver and transferring
the bowie- nife to his ri t hand, he came on,
his eyes blazin , his w ite teeth glittering
through his tan ed beard.

Called so sud only from his painful thoughts
into the presence of such imminent danger, the
doctor was helpless in his bewilderment, and v
made no effort to avoid the murderous attack.
To save him, Major Gravesend drew his re-
volver and shot at the advancing ruflian. But
Dauntless Jerry was even quicker than he.
Standing nearer the center of the room than
did the doctor he leaped to one side, and, as
The Red Han passed him, stuck out his foot,
over which the rufilan tri ped, falling just in
time to sees. the major’s ullet.

The Red and came to the floor with a crash,
'abbing the point of his bowie—knife far into the

ards. W1th a wild oath he was about to
sEring to his feet and renew the attack; but
t e cold muzzle of a revolver was pressed to his
tem lo, and a clear, ringing voice commanded:

‘ tidy, thar, boss! ur yeour carcass ’11 have
a beauty-s t what won’t wash off I Ef I should
take a notion to lay yeou along side 0’ Missouri
Bill, I reckon you don’t stand no show; so
yeou’d better obey orders!”

It was Dauntless Jerry whose activity had
proved equal to the emergenc . As he stood
over the prostrate villain, holding the cocked
revolver at his head, his face white, his nostrils
quivering with passion, yet his arm as steady
as an arm of bronze, the major, even the doc-
tor, could not help marking his rare beauty.

When he saw that The Red Hand compre-
hended his situation, Dauntless Je w
back a pace, still, however, covering t e n
with his weapon. Then, without removing his
eyes from the head which he intended to per-
forate if necessary he addressed his friends:

“ Gents ” he said, “ this hyar’s a mighty on-
healthy place. I reckon yeou’d better slope, ef
yeou want to git out with whole skins!”

“ But you must save yourself,” cried the doc-
tor, now having recovered himself. “We
can’t abandon you in this den of wolves.”

“Come on. I reckon I’m nearest the door,”
replied Jerry, backing t0ward the entrance of
the saloon, matill preserving his aim.

All this ired so rapidly, that thus
far Poker Tom h stood in bewilderment.
But, seein his champion down, and well know-
ing thati he failed to come to his sup rt at
such a time the capricious-tempered R Hand
might on some future occasion “ take it out of
his hide,” be deemed it “healthy” for him to
make some demonstration; and flourishing his
“ six-shooter,” he cried:

“Fellers, air we a-goin’ to stand by an’ see
three dogs onto one? Not of the court knows
herself, an’ we think she do! Let up, thar, yeou
do gauned whel ! For’ard, tellers, an’ we’ll
ru em out han over fist!”

“Salt that yelpin’ cur—he’s all bark!” cried
Dauntless Jerry. “ Let the wind out 0’ him, an’
come on!”

At this instant The Red Hand pressed his
tongue  his teeth and blew a note that
run shri 1y through the room.

“ 033, I don’t want to salt ecu—I’d hate to,
like ’ison,” cried Dauntless erry' “but I rec-
kon ’11 have to. Ef we git anot er whimper
out o’ yeou—”

But he was interrupted by an answerin
whistle from the street, and the sound of rapi -
1y approaching feet.

i b one lea backward he reached the door
and shot the be t.

“Take the back door!” he cried, “an’ drop
eve body that stands in the way! Lively!
Live y 1”

In the one instant while Dauntless Jerry was
in the act of leaping backward and his aim was
unsteady Red and started to his knees and
clutche his remainin pistol.

“Take yeou’re han off 0’ thar, yeou devil!
ur eou’re a dead man! TAKE IT on!”

he Red Hand had turned his head, so as to
glare with bloodshot eyes over his shoulder at

's youthful conqueror. He saw the white de-
termination in the beautiful face—the merciless

litter in the eye that glanced alon the pistol-

l with unerring aim—heard ghe metallic
ring in the clear voice; and knowing that an
instant’s hesitation would seal his doom, he re-
moved his hand from the butt of his istel, with
a scowl that Satan might have envi , grinding
out a fierce oath of impotent rage between his
clenched teeth. .

On the other hand, while he would have shot
the ruflianwithout a. quahn if necessary, Daunt-
. V . I

4

  

 

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‘ HR is;

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L _ . ,T_'.'._’~‘._;. _ V..-

less Jerry knew that the security of himself and
friends lay in not firing the first shot, if it could
be avoided. An energetic warlike display on
the flpart of even three men, who were known to
be hting only on the defensive, might cow the
who e unorganized mob which occu ied the
room, havmg no particular intel'e in op-

lng them; but a single shot, which looked as
if they were assuming the offensive, might draw
upon them a volley from the crowd—as several
dogs will watch one another with grinning teeth
until the snapping of one brings on a general
en agement.

‘ I m with yeou, gents!” cried Dauntless Jerry
to his friends. “Pass them as minds their own
business; but drop every coyote what proposes
to take a hand in the game; an’ don’t waste two
shots on one man!”

A rallying cry sounded in the street and the
footfalls were just at the door. Encouraged by
the pros t of help, and desirous of showi
his zeal or The Red Hand, Poker Tom startet
forward with an answering cry.

“ Rescue! Rescue!” he shouted. “ Hurray!
we’ll wipe the doggauned val-mints out!”

But he was met by Major Gravesend, who
advanced with a cocked pistol in either hand.

“ Clear the way!” he cried, makingNstraight
for the back door of the saloon. “ 6 make
war only on those who war against us!”

He was seconded by Doctor Chillingworth,
who cried:

“ Stand aside! If you compel us to shoot,
your death will be on your own head!”

Looking down the throats of four revolvers,
Poker Tom “caved ”—in other words, he fell
back precipitately among the crowd, his face
livid with fear. This was the si nal for the
mob to divide; and they backed 0 toward the
sides of the room, leavmg a clear avenue to the
back door.

Meanwhile, Dauntless Jerry, keeping The Red
Hand covered with his revolver, had passed
round him, and was following his friends through
the crowd, walking backward. It required
nerve to keep his eye upon one man, trusting to
his friends to prevent any one of the score who
surrounded them from shooting him; but, Daunt-
less J e was equal to the task, and not a glance
to the right or left betrayed any uneasiness on
his art.

S ill kneeling where he first fell, the blazing
eyes of The Red Hand were following Jerry
with the tireless vigilance of a tiger’s; and he
knew that a momentary diversion of his atten-
tion would give the ruffian an opportunity to
spring to his feet with leveled weapon and rob
him of the advantage he now held.

But, already the door was shaken by ruflians
from without. Then a heavy shoulder made it
crcak in every joint. A momentary pause, and
the door came in with a crash, ushering five
brutal-looking cut-throats pcll-mell into the
room; and, reckless of the danger, The Red
Band leaped to his feet with a ell, 'ust as
Major Gravesend raised the latch o the oor.

Instant] six pistols were brought into. range.
The crow surged further apart, each «man try-
ing to shield himself behind his neighbor.

‘Down! Down!” cried Dauntless Jerry, as
the door swun I open.

Six sheets 0 flame almost simultaneously lit
the further end of the saloon, followed by a
cloud of white smoke, and the room rung with
the report of small arms. But the bullets pat—
tered harmlessly against the walls, or sped
through the open door. The doctor and major
had both taken Dauntless Jerry’s warning, and
dro ped out of danger.

en out through the smoke bounded The Red
Hand, with his cut-throat crew at his heels,
while Jer and his friends leaped through the
doorway, t e ever-thoughtful Jerry pulling the

' door to after lnm.

Wild with rage, The Red Hand tore open the
door, determined to continue the pursuit. But
as he was crossin the threshold a fist shot from
the darkness, 'ng him fairly between the
e es and felling him to the floor. The flash of
his pistol, dischar ed without aim, lit for an in-
stant the face of r. Chillingworth; then a hand
figs-ped him by the ankle, and he was drawn

' y from the room, while a voice from out
the darkness cried in clear, ringing tones:

“ The galoot what attempts to pass that door-
wa is a dead man!”

'lhe ruflian followers of The Red Hand
topped short. N 0 one chose to make of himself

3

so air a tar et as to pass throu h the door with

the lamp light full upon him. ut a device was
it u )on.

“ ut with the lights!” cried a voice; and in
ten seconds the room was in total darkness.

Then came a blind rush for the door—a con-
fused jostlin —oaths.—blows—and finally the
ringing repo of a pistol, followed by a shriek
of mortal agony from some luckless fellow who
had “stopped a bullet!”

 

CHAPTER VIII.

mssoom BILL Is “PLANTED IN CHRISTIAN
STYLE ”

When the saloon door closed behind Dauntless

Jerry and his friends, Dr. ChillingWorth fud-
. , \ p \

denly exclaimed: .

a ' I. s 4‘ , ,
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“Major, I want that man, and we must try
and capture him. Stand by me, now as you are
my friend.”

‘In heaven’s name what do you urpose to
do? You can’t take him alive. He_ as half a
dozen villains at his back Who Will stop at
nothing.”

“ I must try!” re lied the doctor, laconically.

“Gineral ” crie Dauntless Jerry, “ better
take a foo ’s advice an’ git while yeou kin!
You’ll 'tbounced, sure!” _

But t e doctor was not to be won from his

urpose. Taking his revolver b the barrel,
he stepped back to the left-handsi eat the door.
No sooner was he in position than the door was
torn open by The Red Hand. Like a flash the
doctor struck him fairly between the eyes, and
the next instant had pulled  from the room.

“ Lend a hand, major,” he cried.

Major Gravesend sgrung forward and grasp-
ed the other foot; an to ther they ran, drag-
ging the unconscious vi ain after them, and
e

aving Dauntless Jerry to cover their retreat. ?'

That quick-witted individual took in the situ-
ation at a lance, and uttered the menace which
deterred he Red Hand’s pals for a moment.
But when the lights went out, he cried:

“ Gineral, the jig’s up! They’re a-comin’
sure! Drop the carcass, an’ li ht out hot foot!”

His voice attracted one of T 1e Red Hand’s fol-
lowers, who bounded toward him with an oath,
discharging his pistol as he ran.

Jerry had no desire to kill an
forced to do so in self-defense, and eeling secure
in the darkness, he took tohis heels with a shout
of derisive laughter.

“Peg away, ole hoss!” he cried. “All down
but nine!”

He would have joined his friends, but was in-

tercepted by the men who rushed from the sa- '
i an’ then they shook us in the darkness,” re lied
Chi lingworth and Major 1

loon, and so took the op site direction.

Meanwhile, Dr.
Gravesend found themselves greatly embarrass-
ed b the burden they were trying to drag 011'.
All t e advantage gained by the darkness was lost
by the unavoidable noise made in( ging so

heavy a bod over the ound, and t ey were
soon short 0 wind and rd pressed by their
foes beside.

“Hyar they air, boys! Come on!” yelled a
voice, anda pistol ball whistled by the doctor’s
$3811, asa dark form appeared bounding toward

m.

An answering shout came from near at hand,
and then the rush of hurried feet and several
pistol shots in rapid succession.

“ This will never do!” cried the ma'or, letting
go the leg he held. “ We can’t more t n escape
unimpeded.”

For answer, Dr. Chillingworth loosened his
hold on The Red Hand and drawing both his pis-
tols, fired several ra id shots at the approaching
shadows. A yell. 0 pain showed that at least
one of the shots had taken effect. But there was

an answering volley, and the doctor swerved to 3'
one side, to be caught in the arms of his faithful '

friend.

Major Gravesend was strong; and liftin the
doctor on his shoulder, he ran with him own
the street, and turned the first corner. Here he
sto , breathless and set the wounded man
on 18 feet. Then he drew his weapons, deter-
mined to make defense, if still ursued.

Fortunately, when the con ederates of The
Red Hand came upon their unconscious chief,
they gave over the chase and addressed them-
selves to his relief. Raising him from the

ound, the four who were unhurt bore him back

the saloon, while their companion, who had
received the doctor’s bullet, limped after them
_ venting his suffering and rage in groans and

oaths.

Finding that tlie‘y were in r of no fur-
ther molestation, ajor Gravesen turned to his
wounded friend and said:

“Are you badly hurt f”

“ I don’t know;’ was the faint reply. “ It is in
my left breast and the side of my head. Take
me to where I can at some water.”

“ Can you walk 1 you lean upon me?”

“I think so. ”

Ma' r Gravesend ut his arm around his
frien ’s waist, while t e latter ‘ hisaround
the major’s neck; and so the walked slowly to
the hotel. The landlord lent ’ aid to carry the
wounded man up stairs and put him to bed,
Where he lay faint with exhaustion.

b “ Gravesend,” he called feebly, when he got his

reath.
_(;‘ Well,” said the major, coming to the bed-
s: e.
“ Don’t let him escape. Get men, and offer a
reward for his capture alive.”
“Kee quiet, and rest assured you shall be
avenged.”
“I ’s not that. I have dee rreasonsfor wish-

in to take him. Don’t let shoot him, even

if ey have to let him escape. It will not bet- ‘

ter matters if he is killed.” V

“ Very well; it shall be attended to the first
thinfigitthe morning.”

“ won’t do. He must be taken to-night,
' or he will esca It will be easier before he re-
cOVers from t e blow I gave him. Spare no

vaeeeed; the whole object of my
 .

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dram w <fi.“ '* “an; i"; .j j , I

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! tor immediately, and t on lose no more time.”

But it was an hour before the sur eon was ,
‘ Hand, who turned to Poker Tom and said:

0t; and then the ma'or set himself to t e carry-
ing out the wishes of 's friend, who would not
i  until assured that active measures were on
1 oo. ‘
 Meanwhile- “three fingers” of raw brandy
. had brought
Q he had recovered his fur was only equaled by
. the rofanity in whichi found expression.
“ Ias he slid?” he yelled, with a torrent of

, blasphein . “Where is he? Did you let him I
git away. ’
“Cap n, we—-”

But the speaker, Nebraska Larry, was felled T

, to the earth, by a blow which might have killed
‘ him had he not partiall dod ed it.
At this strange procedhre t e s ctators utter-
' ed ejaculations of surprise.
, Red Hand offer such Violence to one of his own
companions, with no apparent provocation?
The fellow Kicked himself up from the floor,
J and stood wit hanging head. He was a pic-
ture of unmurmuring subjection. This, too,
caused a murmur of wonder. Why should one
man allow another to knock him down without
protest? As they asked themselves the ques-
tion, more than one hand furtively sought the
butt of a revolver, and looks of suspicion peered
from beneath more than one shaggy brow.

As for The Red Hand, he seemed only more 1
one unless irritated. Had he seen the lurid light that

Egodwed in the eyes of the man upon whom he
put so gross an indignity, he might have
experienced a different emotion. As it was he

‘ merely repeated his question in an even more

imperious tone.
‘ Did yeou let that man give yeou the slip?”
“We follered ’em until they dropped yeou,

Nebraska Larry, in a monotonous tone w ich
showed that he was holding his voice under
control.

“ Dro ped me? I reckon yeou didn’t have to
foller him fur, until he dropped me seein’ he
dropped me right hyar,” rep ied The lied Hand,
wit a scowl and oaths, misunderstanding the
allusion.

“I don’t mean the lick yeou got hyar; but
they hauled yeou through the mud by the legs
until we scart ’em off.”

“ Is that how I got all this mud on me?”

“ It air. I reckon they proposed to bag yeou,
bod an’ breeches.”

e Red Hand swore more fiercely than ever;
and wheeling toward the crowd, he demanded:

“ tho is he, anyway? Does any man know?”

The men addressed looked at one another
evidentl knowing nothing of the doctor, 
5313 of heir number ventured, somewhat sul-
e :

“I calkalate he ain’t long in these hyar parts.
Nobody never seen him be ore to—day. ’

“ VVal, then, I reckon thar won’t no one see
him very often after today!” replied The Red
Hand, Significantly.

The crowd looked even more sullen at this.
It was plain that for some reason they were be-

‘ ning to regard The Red Hand with less favor
han before.

Without heeding them The Red Hand passed
over to where Missouri hill still lay untouched
in the middle of the floor.

“ Pardner,” he said, turning to the bartender,
“is thar any way we kin git a pine box made
ri ht 011'?”

‘That’s lumber under the house; an’ hyar’s
hammer an’ nails,” was the reply.

“Take er pay out 0’ that an’ let’s have the
flxin’s rig t smart,” said The , tossing
some money upon the bar. “ Sam an’ Joe, yeou
knock a box together. An’, Quickstep, take
Dave with yeou, 't a shovel an’ ick some’rs,
an’ break ound 1n the holler. e’ll give him
a boss sen -ofl.’, anyhow, an’ git the job 03 our
hands.”

Then rough boards were brought; and while
the sawing and nailin was oing on, The Red
rIand stood beside t e life ess form of his
quondam “pardner.”

“That’s a blasted shame!” he said, with an
oath, looking with regret at the ghastly and
distorted face. “As squar a pard as any man
ever had! He could throw his meat at twenty
paces like a book! Wal, pard, we’ll give eou
a Christian send-off, an’ then we’ll do his usi—
ness fur the oot what laid yeou out!”

With his oot he pushed the body so that it
rolled over on its back, turning the repulsive
face more fully to the li ht.

. “A blasted shame!” erepeated' then tum-
mg to the bartender, he demanded a piece of

writ' paper.

Refiving it, he chewed the end of a match
so as to form a sortof brush. Thishedip
into the fast coagulating blood which lay upon
the floor, and traced upon the paper the words:

“ I morass 10 snow YOU ON SIGHT!”

Then he dipped his broad palm in the blood
and pressed it upon the paper, leaving the im-
press of a red hand.

The spectators gazed upon this roceeding

' “Well, don’t talk an more. I will get a doc- i
‘ other.

e Bed Hand to his senses. When ,

I by should The ‘

 

.1 e". 

“ Ef he ain’t the devil hisself l” muttered an-
Further remark was cut short by The‘Red

“ Pardner, I reckon yeou’d ow the cuss
what done this when yeou see him agin?”

“ Bet a hoss I would, pard!” was the epigram-
matic reply.

“ Kin yeou find him, 8’ ose?"

“ I allow I could scare im up some’rs.”

“ “’al, if 'eou’ll put that thar paper into his
hand, to-nig t ur to-morrew morning, I’ll stand
yeou in beer-money fur a week.”

And The Red Hand extended the blood-wri
ten document. -

“ Did!" cried Poker Tom, to indicate his ac-
celptance of the mission; and he took the paper,
w ile the man who before expressed his belief
in the alliance of The Red Hand with the Evil
One new nud ed his neighbor and whis red:

“ I allow I on’t want none 0’ that in mine.
He’ll be found dead some 0’ these fine mornin’s;
an’ that’s what’s the matter with him!” -

The rude box was soon ready to receive its

tenant. Missouri Bill was now dressed.in the. '  H

clothes he had worn, The Red Hand hiking

charge of his weapons. Then he was placed ip I 

the box and the cover nailed down.

“ Gents ” said The Red Hand,“ this is a retty
nasty ni h to plant a Christian in; but i ’s the ,
best we  do; so bear a hand, an’ we’ll have
the grass a-grOWin’ over him the fust thingin
the mornin’.’ .

Enough volunteered, and the box was raised
upon their shoulders and borne out into the wet,

' ' night, The Red Hand preceding it with
a lantern. They found that Quickstep and
Dave had already dug a shallow grave; and
into this the box was lowered.

It was a strange scene. The uncertain light
of the lanternsstru gled through the fog and
drizzling rain and fel u the gloomy faces of
those bri dish nien— ell upon their uncouth \
dress—fe upon the arms peeping here and
there from beneath their garments, where they
were protected from the wet—fell upon the ,
sodden grass—fell 1iqipon the yawning grave and
its rude coffin! o priest—no mourners—no
heads uncovered with respect. A moment they
stood, looking silently, oomily into the open

ave while ickstop eaned upon his spade.

en The Red nd 3 . ‘

“Gents,” he said, ‘ he was a good
an’ always took his whisky straight.
seen him peg out; an’ I allow thar won’t none 0’

ye deny but what he died game. May noneof  '

us have a Worse send-off than Missouri Bill.
Re m'escat in e!” 
‘ e Red Hand’s min wigs defectilve, and 1&3
‘ wa’n’t no great s eso a ospe slinge' r,
but he meant that his “ rd ”gshould have a
“ white ” burial, and he did the best he could—7‘
at least such was the im ression left on the
minds of the spectators. hat was true, what "
false, in this opinion let the sequel disclose. '
The dirt was then shoveled back and tram
down; and the strange burial cortege set on on ‘ ( 
their return to the saloon, little knowing wlnt ‘-  .
awaited them. '1

 

CHAPTER Ix. ‘  ,
ON SIGHT. 5

WHEN The Stranger left the saloon his mind a.
was in a whirl of perturbed thought. out. , 
from the spectral loom of the past came longb
buried shadows to aunt him anew. , , ‘_ .

“Ten years ago to-night l” he mutteredfwith

a shudder; and could one have seen  featmra, 1 4':
he would have discovered them wrung by a»; ‘i 

throe of ,
mist, where the Itifizt streamed out into it, over»;
the red curtains t covered the lower half bf
the saloon windows. ‘ .' '.
TheS rdrewuphiscoatcollarand
slouched his
tect himself from the weather (for he did not

that left them as gray astethe

notice that, so much greaterwas the storm that "  ‘

raged within his breast) but with an instinctive .
desire to bury himself in deeper gloom. And“ 4
so he plodded on through the mud and rain, hot - "
heeding whither his steps tended. But he was -
attempting that evasion which millions have 9
tried, and millions will try again, the vain efo; ‘
fort to elude the specter within by physical:

fli ht. .
5At last! at last!” he muttered. “After ten
ears!—ten interminable years! I swore it, and'
have he t my oath—that part of it Andthe- . '

rest will ollow—I feel it! Great Heaven, HI I

were to come u n Iu'm, nOWI God grant it!”  '

and then—then shall have nothingjurthel‘ to: “,

live for—nay, but one thing!” . .
On thro

\

0 ‘w
J.

\

     

ugh the darkness and the mud: ind   

the constantly dropping rain, un \
follo‘ themeagergmdance ofthe, .‘
eye, w the Visions that flitted 0N tho if}:
mental eye absorlfild llJiist'lwhqle attgfntion.‘ 
with ste hasten e ever em ' ‘
that method in his brain. , '
“ I must be wary,” he pursued, after a long'pi-‘j
lence. “ He ma comeupon me at any ’
He and his so. ‘te cannot be a ‘

with somethingloike asuperstitions 0 such fiends are too well mated
“ I’ll go bail ’3 sold out to the devil!” whis other’s society, except the

pered one, with a shudder. . . th ‘

‘ - \ . - , .  , ._ "i. 1;, .

  

rdner ‘0 1'
eouall .3 '

t closer over his eyes—nottoproe ‘4  '

 

       
      
  
 
     

 

The“ New Yo

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, of arlife like his must be ten years of daily ex-
' — , ’ posure to death by violence. ”
. . He dwelt gloomily upon the thought, and then

u“
. I broke forth again:
~ “No! I cannot be cheated like that. He must
. = ' ’,~' be alive, and I shall live to crush him! But he
,3 "must be changed. I wonder if I shall know

.‘ him? Missouri Bill! I did not recognize him at
 first. He is the same devil, robbed of the pow-
e' V ' ers of dissimulation and com lied to stand
 ,’ forth in his true character. I the other has

' ’ 1 , changed so muchT—but I am on my guard now,

. r. v and cannot fail to recognize him.”
u, f ' And so he mused, until after the expiration of
’ nearly an hour he found himself before his ho—
tel. Once in his room, he threw himself into a
chair, rested his arms on the table, and dropped
.. his head upon them, only to resume the train of

‘ / painful thought at another point.

“Who is the boy?” he mused. “There is
somethin in his face that attracts me. I was
 “never be ore so moved by a stranger. He is .a

' noble fellow—that up in every look and
' 0. But he will 0 to the devil in the life

9 is leading now. 1' I could on] get him
away from such surroundings, I mig t make a
. man of, him. But will he heed instruction
- " from me? My God! what an example I am
setting out with!”

‘ The Stranger set his teeth hard in bitterness
of spirit, and his frame shook with emotion, as

'he muttered:

r ' “ Can anything good proceed from such as I—

» i L I, a murderer! Am I a murderer!” he pursued;

J" ,and then with his hands clasped hard over his

- anguish-blanched face, he cried aloud:

o lives! Two lives! Great God! what a

. burd ! But it was a fatality. I would not
a , ’haverharmed a hair of her head, though she
“ ,c ed my heart with her perfldy.

“ o, I was never guilty of willful murder!
Do you believe moi—do you believe me?” he
said, in a whisper. .

, ,And as he spoke he felt about in his breast for
the miniature he alwa s were about his neck.
,' .Not finding it, he recol ected that he had placed

 ’ it in his coat pocket, the ribbon which held it
' havin broken. He thrust his hand into his
 , but it was not there. Then he began
.' —' 56 search his other pockets in succession, at

firstoomposedly, then with increasing trepida-

tion; but the picture was nowhere to be found.

89011 this one quest bailrgsléedt eve other;
Athouorht' and s rin ' gto ' ee ina evero
,i'anxi; ; he hogangtnurning his ockets inside
’ ' \out,'w'ile hepacedthe room, 100 ' g in places
 where the miniature could by no ibility
*3 have gotten. Then he stood sti l and hought.

‘ He was apostrophizing this icture when he
“hit bégfinto look for it—this picture which had
v beento him a sort of talisman all his life. He
. had communed with it time and time again
3d , his disordered life, as if it were endowed
 e and sympathy. In all his troubles he
had gone to it for comfort; he had whispered
_. his hopes to it; he had 'ustifled his conduct to
“At' he had worshiped i this simple effigy of

as And, like a
_ its tender eyes gazing into hiswi earn-
ing love, cheering hope, sympathetic, grief-sor-
at: rowing reproof, or 'ateful encouragement, as
, interpre it, had ever drawn him to-
,_ ‘rd the noble and guided his footsteps around
'tfall that beset the pathway of his
, life. But now, it was ne; and it
. ’ as if he had lost the amulet w ch guarded
" and ded him.
, . “ mpst have lost it in the saloon,” he mused.
'1’ “If any one has discovered it, where is it by
1. thistime?”
.':'\"- In feverish haste he snatched his hat and
  down stairs.
v .«Asfhe passed throughI the bar of the hotel,
"Poker Tom stepped up to him and said:

" ‘fPardner, I reckon you’re the man I’m look-
.in’lnr. r I’ve got ableet e dfock l. eniianh ar—J’k t
‘ While speakin e was um 13 e
\m the blood-Wian missive of he Redgnd.
'5 But The Stranger. interrupted him with a
{town of impatience, not stopping to learn the
character of his business.

‘“,At another time, my man. I am busy now,”
he said, and into the street.
I

 
   
  
  
    
    
  
    
    
   
     
  
    
    
    
    
  
   
  
    
  
    
    
  
  
 
    
      
    
  
   
  
    
   
   
   
 
 
   
    
  
 
 

   
     
    
  
    
   
    
  
  
    
    
     
    
       
 
 
      
   
    
 
 
  
  
  
   
 
 
  
 
   
   
 
  

  

  

brushing by, _ ‘
1! man!” repeated oker Tom, mdi nt-
“ tin blazes does he take me ur’! I
‘ urry fur I. ndwlm'tRs hhas hthsmh a
, wo er oc ! e
loot maybe runnin’ away!” he added with sfi
liension. “Blast him! I on’t want

nt!”

den
this skedaddle before I gin him this hyar

 

fallen. Without giving this a second glance, he
turned to the corner which the doctor and major
had occu ied. He found the table tipped over
and one eg broken—evidence of a struggle of
some sort Since his departure.

rh Library. ‘ « ° .

I

Without a word to the attendant, he went 1

upon his hands and knees to feel about in the
sawdust that lay on the floor, though in no place
thick enough to conceal the miniature of which
he was in quest. Every nook and corner was
gone over again and again, before he abandoned
the search. Then he rose with a look that made
the bartender quake internally.

Upon his entry, that functionary had stopped
his work and watched the search in silent curi-
osity. N ow he stepfilesd behind the bar with a
quick step, dipped ' hands into some water,
and sttiod, all a ability, while he dried them on
a towe .

“ What is the meaning of this! Have you had
more trouble hyar since I left 5” asked The
Stran er.

“ l 0.1, boss, yes, I reckon they gin us a pretty
loud shake, take it all round,” replied the bar-
keeper, with a grin.

“The gentleman who acted as my second—
what has become of him?”

“ Wal, ye see, he found it raither onhealthy
in hyar, an’ he slid—him an’ t’other chap, an’
thfnilatlfiact!” k ' d b dl t'll

espea ergrinne more roa ys 1.

“What was the trouble? Did he git into a
a row with some one?”

“Boss eou’re jest a-whistlin’ tenor! Ye see,
The Red and he dropped in on us jest arter

ou’d slid. He jest  one Injun war-whoop,
lit astride 0’ Missouri Bill, an’ wanted to know
who struck Billy Patterson, hot foot now I tell
ye! \V a], while Poker Tom war a-tellin’ of him
about the little difiikilty yeou had with Missouri
Bill, be spied the gent over in the corner; an’
quicker’n greased hghtnin’ he gin another whoop
an’ reached fur him—Lord! ye’d orter see him
reachI—with his toothpick

“But the little cuss with the Injun blanket
war livelier’n a boss eel on a red-hot gridiron,
now eou bet ye! He poked out his foot—a
foot, y Judas! that wa’n’t bigger’n yer three
fingersI—an’ The Red Hand wen to ass like a
thousand 0’ brick! Stranger, the an’somest
dod can ever seen, ur I m a liar! Bu’st my
bug e ut the leetle cuss air a tearer an’ no
mista 0! Lord bless ye! he clap  six—
shooter agin The Red Hand’s temp e in a way
that wa’n t slow, fur rocks!

“ ‘Hold on thar, boss!’ says he, jest as chip-

r an’ as peart as e please; an’ dog my but-

ns ef yeou wouldn’t ’a’ thought, b Cain, sir!
that he stood seven feet in his socks Fact! ur
I’ll lswallow my head, ’thout piimin’ the years
bac !

“Wal, sir, The Red Hand be war a-lookin’
straight into Guinea” (the bartender didn’t say
Guinea, but a place of equally torrid tempera-
ture) “through the six holes of a pepper-box
that didn’t look healthy, no way yeou kin fix it!
an’ he quit ravin’ around fur a spell, new con
bet a boss! But he whistled a signal, an’ 8. am
0’ five come through that thar door, Icesplitl
East as the gents made the back door. The Red

and follered ’em like a boss whirlwind on a
big drunk' an’ yer kin kick me clean out o’
town, of the gent what layed second fiddle to
yeou didn’t drop him on e door-sill yonder an’
snake ’im out babe heels, b thunder!

“Stranger, t that‘s t e kind 0’ music
they’ve been a- 'vin’ of us sence yeou’ve been
gone, an’ it wa’n t slow, fur sure!”

Such was the “whisky-slinger’s” account of
the affra ; and The Stranger, who w familiar
with sue scenes, as well as with the peculiari-
ties of style prevalent among gentlemen of the
bartender’s education and associations, formed
a retty accurate notion of the strug le. He
ga hered, too, that And was quite en usiastic
over Dauntless Jerry’s s are in the affair.

“Who is this Red Hand?” he asked.

Andy shrugged his shoulders, and then glanc-
ing furtively around and leaning across the bar,
said in a confidential tone:

“boss I reckon thar don’t nobody mostly
know. ar’s them what says—mind e, I don t
say so—but thar is them what says i ’s mighty
cur’ous of he ain’t the kin pin of a gang w t
a-callin’ pewerful loud the Vigilantes in
these h or rts! Thar’s £Been a few bosses
missin’ esta ut hyar an’ 6 boys is a-gittin’
to allow that they‘ll know what they goes to
right soon, ur thar’ll be war! Wal, when a
man Mb 03 an’ knocks another dOWn—an’ all
fur nothm’, as fur as anybody kin see-an’ the

alcot what gits unched $138 up, a kind 0’
gin’ of his h , an’ don dust to say boo, I
allow that’s somethin’ about it what’s kind 0’
peculiar! That’s the way it looks to a man up

a. stu‘r'nf—eh, boss?’
“ ere will I and the man who acted asmy
secohdl”

TheStran interru tedAnd ’s btongue
at the first  place. Hisysnx‘igt about
he might emse have felt in 1he;Red‘Hand.
Andgéelt that his sto had not elicited g6 19%

edit deserved . andhisnipl,
mgr. last interrogati, on was,
y concise. A .

e , I

7‘ _

him, un-

: ment in his breeches pocket,

 

 

\ ‘. ’v ',' I ' , I‘ \

I' Vol. I.

\ \

“ That I don’t know.” .

Then, as The Stranger turned to go, he added:

“Boss I reckon yeou won’t squeal on what
I’ve to yer; fur this hyar Red Hand is
a-gom’ ter lay fur yeou, an’ what I’ve said has
been as one friend to another.”

' “Lay for me 7” repeated The Stranger, wheel-
ing round. “What has he 0t to do with me?”

‘ Wal, ye see, Missouri ill was his pard.

An’ hyar comes the man what’s ot the docky-
straight as a
string, I reckon.”

The Stranger placed his hand upon the butt
of his revolver, and turned toward the door.
But it was Poker Tom that entered, and he
looked at him with only curiosity in his eyes.

“ Cap’n, ” said the gambler, advancing, “ ef
eou am’t in such a hurry as eou was I reckon
’ve got a mite 0’ business wit yeou what won’t

take up more’n a minute 0’ yer time.”

“  a civil tongue in your head, my man!”
replied he Stranger, with a look which showed
that he was not to be trifled with. “ What busi-

‘ ncss have you with me?”

“This hyar love-letter from The Red Hand!”
said Poker Tom, sullenly, yet with due respect.

The Stranger took the missive, and, holding it
at arm’s length, read the ominous words. Then,
With a look that cowed Poker Tom and made
Andy flelicitate himself on havin befriended
such a “boss sharp,” be extended he paper to
the bler and said:

“ ake it back to your master, and tell him
{shatll shall not cheat the hangman by shooting
um ’ v

Mechanically Poker Tom received the paper,
and The Stranger turned to leave the saloon.

But the door swung o n and The Red Hand
lea into the room wit a yell, discharging his
pis l at the same instant.

The Stranger staggered, brushed his hand
across his e es as if to clear his vision, and his
weapon spo 0 while he was falling to the floor.

The Red Hand uttered a sharp cry and fell
upon his face.

Then, followed by the crowd of roughs who
had left the saloon to witness Missouri Bill’s
burial, The Red Hand’s particular crew rushed
into the room with drawn weapons.

And is The Stran r to be trampled under
foot by such a horifee? Hark! A cry that
blanches every cheek in the room! so shrill, so
full of agony, terror, rage—but who can an-
al me a cry when the whole heart speaks!

ough an open window, the sash of which
was burst out in the mad attempt of the crowd
to escape from the darkened saloon after The
Red Hand had met with such si al defeat at
the hands of Dauntless Jerry s oots a dark
form, with a flutter of colored rapery. A nei h
of excitement and terror—a clatter of hoo ,
as a fiery-eyed steed isdrawn upon hishaunches
at the side of the prostrate Stranger—the ap-
pearance of a gay] decked female figure,
standing OVer the y of the fallen man and,
with a cocked pistol presented in either hand,
crying, in a veice whose intense passion thrills
them ike an electric shock:

“BACK! BACK! YOU DEVILS!” and the star-
tled ctators realize that Gentleman Sam’s
sister leaped her horse through the window,
into their very midst, and ranged herself on
the side of the man who, scarcely two hours be-
fore, took her brother’s quarrel upon himself.

Not so much from her weapons, as in super-
stitious panic at the sight of the white horror of
her face, her blazin eyes, her quivering form
the .shrink away. en there isthe sound of
ms 11;: feet Without, and a voice cries in hoarse
comman :

“Surround the house! Shoot down every
giro who attempts to escape, but take the chief
we

“The li hts! The lights!” cries one of The
Red Han s crew; and almost instantly the

lights are dashed out, the room isagain wrapped '
in

knees, and pandemonium reigns!

 

CHAPTER X.
ran masons UNDER A CLOUD.

WHEN The Stran r fell before The Red
Hand’s pistol he ‘ust consciousness enough
left to distmgiush the orse and its riderasthey
leaped through the window and brought up at
With a thrill of delightful surprise,
he recogmzed the girl who had come to his res-
cu‘e once before tl‘nt dav.

nk God, she escaped!” he cried, in his

cart.
Then, with an agonized thrill, he added:
“But her present surroundings! What can
save her now _
With a dreamy sense of admiration he saw
her stand above him so tly With presented

isto def thewho e 1110th . Dreami-
fy, anl‘d as far away, he h Ear cry:
‘Back! k! you devils!”
So frail, and yet so grendly regal! He wor-
shi her even‘then. . _
had a vague perception that she cored

fdllowedbyobltvion

themall. Then v?  I [in
wwmdm‘é‘gflwm, .

 

 
 

, V

 ~ _. No], 1:

A Hard; 0

   

I‘ .- “
x.  ,, .. . '

 

rowd; er, Gentleman Sam’s

Sister.

 

around.
through the darkened room. Harsh

cordant hubbub—the last apparent!
increase the confusion. _
the frightened whinner and snorting of a horse,

and the thud of his hoofs on the floor as he

plunged hither and thither in bewildered panic.
In the frantic effort to escape danger from the

room was yet emptied, followed a rapid
ning fight; and finally the sound of horses’
hoofs in ra id retreat. . .
Huddledpup in a corner behind his bar, the
proprietor of the Occidental saloon felt rather
‘ jub’ous” about li hting his tWice-extinguished
lamps. Thus far 8 had “ come off With a bun
hide;” but a. “third scrimmage might brings.
turn in his luck.” An occasional scene of this
sort gave a ble variety to a life which, lack-
ing this spice, might become monotonous; but

!

There was a. rush of heavy feet ' Stranger’s; but in it there were hard lines of 1
voices were g
raised in quick comifnand, in (liilasphemoiis vifu- i
t' in cries o in an rage an in is- l
Dem 1011, Pa ! only to 5
But above a sounded ;

, and from the no less fierce ,
the rude fua‘lrnl i'tfuil'le was boolver- ;
turned and broken by the f o eavy ms;
and windows were crashed through, as afford-
ing the most available exit. Then, before the ‘

ex-
change of shots outside the saloon, as in a run- .

in view of the abundance of adventure, and the ‘

turbulence of its character, crowded into the ,

of one evening, and recalling the
$g%:bpfi?Three times and out !”———Andy voted
the resent occasion “a leetle too red hot fur
heal h!” h _ .
While the shuffling of feet, imprecations,
blows and cries of pain and rage shewed that

the human brutes had not yet all efi‘ect- | Gravesend and

ed their esca from that darkened pandemo-
" nium, a crashing of the door and a cessation in

the thud of iron hoofs told when the horse made , gen

hiswa into the open air. But a moment lon-
ger thbe; blind struggle continued, and then the
only sound audible in the room was Andy s own
811 pressed breathing. .

ut even the silence might be treacherous;
and preferring not to “stop a bullet” “if it
Was all the same to the rest of the company,”
Andy remained content to “hold the fort,”
awaiting the reassurance of returning antnmtc
humanity; for he knew not how many-mani-
mate forms, covered by the darkness,,niight he
on the other side his bar, the “ leavm s of the
"‘ shind through which they had just passed.

“T hain’t no groaiiin’,” he was saying to
himself, after the expiration of perhaps a quarter
of an hour, when a brisk step caused hmi to
thrill and start with apprehension. Then
from the darkness came the challenge:

is Hallo, here! Ariax younall dead or vamosed?
Strikeah ht! Ho, ere.

Instantgv the cowering bar-keeper was on his
feet, and but for the darkness his face might
have been seen broadened by agrm of delighted
relief. I” _

“Be that you, Gentleman Sam! he cried.
“Lord love ye, be , but we’ve had a Jamboree
as is a 'amboree, or sure!”

“A light! A light!” demanded Dauntless
Jerry, impatiently. _ . ,

But, already a lucifer burned blue in Andy 3

rs; and a moment later the clear flame of
the match partially: illuminated the room.

Dauntless Jerry was standing Just beyond
the end of the bar, with his hands extended be-
fore him, as one groping in the dark. A hand-

his head seemed to indicate that he .had not
come of! without a token of the at‘r‘ray in which
he had so antly laid The  Hand hers de
combat. ndy caught only a ghmpse of him, as
. With a shrp cr he leaped forward, givm the
barkeeper sue a start that he droppe the
match, and they were again enveloped in dark-
nessTh ht! Th 1' ht!” was the sharp com

“ e 1i 0 lg -
mand; and with trembling fingers Andy made
another essay. .

As the lampwick ignited Dauntless J e was
discovered kneeling at the end of the bar, nd-
ing over a motionless form in which Andy re-
cognized The Stranger, who la .where Gentle-
man Sam’s sister had dragged beyond the
rush of the maddened mo . As for the rest,
one may gather the condition of thin outsrde
the bar from a subsequent description in Andy’s
characteristic style: . I

“It looked, by Jove, sir! as if a boss hum-
cane had set the tables an’ chairs tedancin’ J u-
ber, until thar wa’n’t a piece left big enough to
make a. match of—blow me if there was!”

But The Stranger demanded their first attén-

tion.

“Rocks! he’s plugged, sure!” commented
Andy, with a f mg of awe. .

Mentally he was strugghng With the ques-
tion:

“ Air the cock 0’ the walk rubbed out the fust
clatter after his tail feathers begun to sprout!‘

But, unheeding, Dauntless Jerry was tearing
away the neckcloth,-then strippmg the bloody
shirt from the breast of the unconscious man.
- “The galoot shot to kill, an’ no mistake!”
added the saloon-keeper, as he saw, not far be.
low the region of the heart, a small perforation,
~' i , about whichtheblood hadalready begunte

 Jerry’l‘faoe was upalea‘s The

   

 

,\ .
 .. t‘ E

. .4 .
v.,.,.~ .

  

ketchief tied down over one eye and the side of i

l

i

l

l

 

 

  
  
   
   
    
   
 
 
   
   
   
   
  
    
  
  
  
 
    
  
   
  
  
     
  
   
  
   
     
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
 
 
   
  
    
      
   
  
 
  
 
     

had before!” said the former, with dee feeling.
“I shall bring my own sister to helpglrs Ro-
binson.

Not very well content, the major saw Dauntr
; less Jerry again go out into the storm in quest
of his sister. Then, nothing else remaining to
be done, he picked his wa through the sodden
r streets to his own hote , buried in moody
thought.

in, while the other lay as if in ceful slum-

ggr. With eyes glowing like coa and a frame

quivering from head to foot, the youth said, in

a low veice husky with intense ion:

“If he dies, 1'11 hunt his murderer to the
grave, so help me God!”

“I reckon he’ll stand a pile o’ killin’” said
Andy. “His kind mostly does. Ef sobe yeou‘re
agreeable, I’ll put up a sawbuck that lie haiii't , Dr. Chillingworth received intelligence of The
hushed yet.” . Stranger’s condition with marked solicitude. '

It did not seem to strike Andy that Dauntless i “Don’t let him lack for anything which
Jerry might feel any delicac about making the money will procure,” he said. “ I don’t know
life or death of his frien the subject of a how it is; but some link binds him to me, I’m
wager. Had it been his own mother, instead of sure. It seems as if the crisis of my life were
a stranger, the instinct to gamble might have 3 at hand; and I want him to stand by me, as I
led him to say: ; feel that he will. If the other had only been 

“ lVal, gents, has any one o’ yeou an opinion captured! Do on think that he was killed?”

' what he (last to back? Air the ole woman oil’, 1 “ No," repli the ma'or, somewhat absentl .
ur liain’t she? Come, pick yer side an’ pile yer i “ He fell; but I hardly ' his followers co d
chi ; fur I‘m beun’ to cover somethin‘! ’ have carried him off on horseback, if he did not .

ll eanwhile, Dauntless Jerry set about dress- ; refover consciousness sufficiently to help him- '
se f n

the wound of The Stranger with a solici- .
“ We must not remit our efforts to effect his .

in
tuge as tender as any woman’s. ; 
Presently a head was cautiously thrust in at I capture. I have followed him for nearly twenty '  '
i years, and I cannot be frustrated now. .

1

one of the windows. The whisky-bleared eyes
There is little likelihood of his escaping; The
t e head

\ .

took a curious stu'vey of the room, and then the .
head was withdrawn. ,’ opinion is gaining prevalence that he is

“Only one stiff, boys,” said a voice in the .‘ of a band of horse-thieves and cutthi'oats. It
darkness; “an’ doggaun my skin ef it liain’t § will not be hard to raise the Vigilantes; and
The Stranger!” {they don’t handle such gentlemen With kid

“The blazes e say!" replied another voice. I gloves!” . , . ‘ 'i :
Then sever of the patrons of the saloon, } “But it will be fatal to m pu , if he is ' ,
who had lately vacated it so precipitately, re— ,‘ hanged before I wring from ' t e secret With' , ' 

entered, to be followed presently by Major
his men.
“Is he much hurt?" asked the major, bending

over the still unconscious form of The Stran-

,‘ which he has spoiled my life.

Promisemethat  u
jéou will not let them do that, if you canhelp ~ ' ' ’
I 77

 

“ I promise.” - '1

“ And, major, The Strangers picture—you
will oblige me by returning i . He will be dis-~
tressed when he discovers its loss. Him, also, I ‘
must see as soon as I am able.”

Meanwhile, in the stable yard of the [hotel a ,
new element was entering into thedramai, A- .-
crowd of men, agog with curiosity was filth-n.-
ered about a horse, ' ning to e excited‘v‘.
words of a man with a curry-comb and nge.

Thar! How’s them fur yearinarks wha don’t
wash t” he cried, exulting] , poin ' to the
sleek flank of the animal rom whic he had ,
just removed a white spot, evidently the work _
of human ingenuity. .} ' w

“Knewed e, ole boy!” he added, addreuing ' '
the horse, w 'ch rubbed its nose against the ‘
man in evident recognition—“knewed ye, ole
bovlv! Wal, I reckon! - ,— V

hen turning to the crowd again: ';> g '

“Gents, do ye see him a-shakin’ hands with\“~ ‘
me, jest as muchasto say: ‘How (1’ e do, old . ,-

Dauntless Jerry looked up appealingly.

“What do you think about ité” he asked.

“ It’s not so bad as it might be,” re )lied the
major, after a brief examination. “ c has an
iron constitution, I should say, and can pull
through harder rubs than this. But of course
he must be removed from here. Men, Lring
that door; and we will take him to his hotel.”

The rear door of the saloon was hanging by
one hinge; and even in that the screws were I
loosenc . This was pulled down and The E
Stranger placed u on it, the major covering
him with his 0108/, to protect him from the
drizzliiig rain.

“ We went 0 to the hotel,” said Jerry, as the
men left the eon, bearin the burden on their
shoulders. “I know a p ace where he’ll get
better care, and have it quieter. This way, ’
gents, for the widow Robinson’s."

They yielded to his direction, the major walk-
in by his side.

 

    
    
  
       
  

Vhile they had been placing The S r on fel’i I‘m powerful glad to see ye.’ t’s the ‘ “t
the imme stretcher the eyes of jet hoes of it, ye understand. Would he till) 1155‘ .' ,
Gravesend had studied the face of the youth muzzle agin yeour am an’ nibble yeour sleeve 4 '-

witli no little interest. Now he said, interroga-
tive y:
“ You have called yourself Gentleman Sam?” :
“That’s one 0’ my handles," asserted Jerry. "
“But I prefer Dauntless Jerry, seein’ this boss
has given me that.”
“ on have a sister!” pursued the major.
“Well, what of her?” asked J erry, guarded] .
“ She leaped her horse into the saloon in t e
midst of the fracas. I hope she was not hurt.
You know her present whereabouts, I pre-

in that knowin’ way? Do ye see a hoes howo‘
S’ye—doin’ Tom, Dick and Harry? Wat, ye
on’t!” v \ , - .
“I allow somebody’s callin’ powerful loud fur ‘ “. 1;
a 1011 rope and a runnin’ noose!” growled; ‘ ‘
voice in the crowd.’ , - -?  .
It was from a man who had himself lost'a~
horse, and about him rose a murmur of syrup»
thy from his friends, one of them volun ' , .
for the benefit of the uninformed, that “Joe ‘31....
knowed how it was himself, sincehisfillyhad ~». )"V

      
    
  
   
   
   
     
    
    
    
  
  
   
   
 
     
  
  
   
   
    
     
   
 

T's

sums?” turned up missin’.” . ~ I r , -
“My sister in the saloon while the fight was “Who retended to run this hyar cr/ittevi” , j; 3 ‘
demand a veice. . \T" ’ -

goin’ on!” exclaimed Jerry stopping short, and
gazn‘i‘g at his interlocutor throng the darkness.

“ hen the lights went out 8 e was standing
over The Stranger, threatening his assailants
with her pistols, ’ re lied the major and he was
conscious of blend emotions thril ing through
his breast. One was solicitude, and the other—
was it jealousy? At any rate, of the picture he
had seen through the shattered window, he
would rather remember only the queenly hear-
ing of the heroine, while he drove from mind
the fallen man over whom she had extended her
protection.

‘fiAnd you did not see her leave the saloon? ,
You do not know whether she escaped unhurt?”

“ It’s the sharp what callshissalf ‘ The Strait-y '
ger,’ ” replied the hestler. . "
“ Him as dropped his meat in the Occidenle '
2111mm ghefcrowd.” t bod . ..
ubbu o commen ensued every yoon-’ ‘ '
curring in the opinion that The 8 had
.beenasuspicious characterfromthe , * a . - ,
It needed but little tofanintoaflame-tho "t 
smoldering of men who felt that the had. 
been injured in the tenderest point; an soon  -.'T
theair run with denunciation. A ready leader- ,.
was found in Poker Tom who was overjoyedugv
this op rtunity to retal te, in safety upon 7.; a .
; man w 0 had cowed him with the fire of  }
asked Jerry, anxiousl . 3 eye and belittled his dignity With the pahionh- ' ' '
“No,” replied the major. “Do you know ; iiig address of “my man;” andsoonanexeited '7
where to look for her, if sheis uninjured? Let qmobmas uring down the street towardthe "
me accompany you.” widow Re inson’s. ,. .r V
“I reckon she kin take care of herself,” In vain one more humane or less excited them, 

 

 

said Jerry, with a sudden change of manner. the rest protested: I " .

“ ye all the same.” “But, gents, the galoot‘a flat on his book; —
And he resumed his walk. pin with a bullet that wa’n’t sent home by  
Repulsed so pointedly, the major followed , no 001.” ' ‘ . ‘ ,  ~ '*

after, not a little vexed at meetin opposition j His voice was drowned in the Wild hubbub d s?

in a boy scarcely out of his teens. ot that he : imprecations and denunciation; and swath 5‘ ‘

  
   
  
  
  
  
   
 
 
   
     
 

saw a very formidable barrier in Jerr ’s re- ’
serve. A manused to command, he reso ved to ,
know more of Gentleman Sam’s sister, in spite,
if need be, of her fire-eat brother. .
Half an hour ter Thiggtranger was sung} ,
tucked in bed, With the bullet extracted and 1
the wound neatly dressed by a professional mand : v ‘ v‘ A 
sur n. i “Fetch ,’im along, tellers! Snake ’im out‘d
“ ith proper nursing, there is no reason i that! I reckonhe won’t clap handsvon demons»
why he should not be on his feet again in a few ? horseflesh this side 0’ ' me!” * .3
geeks; ’fwasbggglvergiilcttvgehich jormade Daunitless i hBusgiowonMn’s voice Wm ifidefmfi 
errysace ,w e ma. unconscous-‘te mannowso 9W... ‘
l frowned. foremost laymgviohnfihangismm _
ger felt onxhis “the   fl

door of the chamber in which The Stranger
yielded to the rude assault of men who ‘
stand on no d _un fool ceremony!”
A sudden of the eye ami
drawn breath was t e only betrayal
on the of The Stranger as Poker

:motion 
0011b ‘1. '

“He shall have  nursing as man/never

V'y'
v

    

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..\ '

pleaded on behalf of her guest:
, _ “Men! men! have you no mercy?
 ful thing are you about to do? Do you not see
r. that he is wounded, perhaps dying? He may
n‘bt live until you have carried out your wicked

‘ I
But she was thrust aside, not with intentional
rudeness perhaps, yet with a firmness which
showed the determination of the minions of
I Judge Lynch.

,,were evidenced by the fact that he did not lose
consciousness though his clothes were huddled
r on with little regard for his suffering. Then he
was borne from the house by a hootingkyelling
mob, whose frenzy increased as it
"scent blood.

But before they reached the proposed place of
trial (heaven save the mark!) and'execution
(there was to be no mistake about that), there
was a characteristic interruption.

,The ring of pistol shots was followed by the
 appearance of a man- who rushed, hotly pur—
 - sued, from a dark alley. Half way across the

rhnud'to be pounced upon by the mob at his
' 18!

.\

 

CHAPTER XI.
frIGERS WITH THEIR TEETH DRAWN.

 'WI’I‘B ye of triumph the mob plucked the
'  ,; fallenman his feet, not, however, until he had
’ - . been disarmed; and even then half a dozen of his
manta held him in their grasp, as if ap re—
hensive of a violent struggle. But, aware 0 its
futility perhaaps, the risoner disdained all effort
to escape, an 1
haughty contempt, only his glowin eyes show-
the rage smoldering beneath is outward

' '- Scouting new food for their ap tite for vio—
‘ ‘ .lence,the crowd surrounding The tranger rush-
-  edforward, leaving his bearers to come up more
, slowly. I

. Then, in a tone of wonder not unmrxed with
’ awe, passed from lip to lip that formidable

name: -

.» ,“Tnn Run HAND! THE RED HAND!”

»_ . . A moment later The Stranger was borne for-
.  ard; and the men between whom existed this
4: gendetta of Blood were face to face, beneath
' ‘ ' [the glare of rude torches. Not till then had the
muscles of The Red Hand’s face betrayed
.any emotion; but when he saw his fellow cap-
tive his hard disdain relaxed into a smile of
“ fiendish malignity. ‘

" ,«AI for The Stranger, he looked calmly at his

late antagonist, betraying neither anger nor sur—

 

There was something terribly dramatic in this
wordless meeting, which impressed the ta-
torlwith awe. The men seemed like itans
 themselves in, restraint. The tragic
; I f Missouri Bill had given to The Stranger
"I prestige rival' that ins ired by the ominous
. r e of The Red d. hat hand was bold
,_ to fit the noose to the flecks of these gi-
ants of. destruction?
.The crowd stood in mute contemplation, the
,'co .borne of numbers oozing away before
thetlmught of individual risk, should either of
these men efiect his escape, so that he could
‘ wreak his vengeance upon those who had been
ous as his foes. The men who held the
winner's began to think that it would be
>— healthy” to shift the responsibility of their
. on to other shoulders, a burden which the
  congratulated themselves on not havin
~ " ' All experienced a shrinking dr

m ' 1121:11‘ 318111188; until the current of
was c ge y a V01ce crym :
“ .1313, tha-ur’s a pa-ur o’ thim, the trussed
w" l
' With a wave of relieved feeling, the mob real-
aleed that these men of terrible prowess were in-
deed at their mercy, and if the gave them an
, 7 opportunity to retaliate, it we d be their own
'* fault: Then succeeded a feelmg of exasperation
at the inci t.fea.rs they had entertained.
r “Fetch em along!” said arude voice. “ We’ll
.,  ’em, on’ take the music out of ’em at the
- m time!”
i '.A ell,of approval was the response, and the
mo surged toward the prisoners, each one eager
to “ have a hand in.” '
r ‘ one voice was raised for delay. While Poker
Tom was ready and anxious to be chief in com-
Wn’g the death of The Stranger, in the fall of
Red Hand he saw the loss of a. hero and a

stunning ' The Bodyde in the lace
«Missouri Bill' for he believed them to ave
View“ and 'eutenant of a powerful band.

fl”  midzh ts! I k tha h ' ’t
. . on at gen rec on r am
nothinidogm '13,"- ited Hand, only that he'\tried
pvengo his rdner. I allow yeou’d better

raga paws 0’ him. Thishyar’s our man.”

I, there wasonecircumstance which render-

”‘edupottkm atleaht of, his auditors deaf to his

.. : .. , ThomhoheldTheRedHandkne;

«a: once. nowtheywould

 So, my
..,(_ H‘s/3;“... .- :

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woman. It was the widow Robinson who i dragged

What aw- '

The Stranger’s iron will and tenacious vitality ,

i the doctor.
gan to ‘

street; he staggered and fell upon his face in the .

 

ooke( about on his captors with J

late antagonists would make common v

 

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I

The New 

the prisoner forward, drowning the
voice of op ition by their shouts: and the mob,
as little inc ining to mercy as heedful of strict
justice (since, if he did not deserve hanging on
any explicit char , it was more than likely that
he did on genera principles) was not slow to
catch the infection.

In such a community it is never necessary to
go far for a rope; and already two runnin
nooses dan led side by side from the signboam
of the hote when the mob came up.

In his room in the hotel Dr. Chillingworth was 1
. ers were bound securely with cords.

in a fever of excitement, while the ma'or stood
at the window watching the approaching mob.

“ You must make an effort to save him,” said
“ But it will be all the same; the
ex sure will be his death.”

Sam‘s sister, and again he frowned uncon—

» sciously.

Suddenly he started and exclaimed:

“ They‘ve got another, and—it’s The Red
Band !” ‘

Instant] he jumped to the correct conclusion.
The woun ed ruflian, failing to esca with his
fellows, had gone into hiding, where h: had been
accidean unearthed by some of the men who
bad form the major’s party early in the even-

m .

g‘ The Red Hand?” cried Dr. Chillingworth.

And in the intensity of his excitement he rose
from his bed and staggered to the window.

By an effort of wi e fou ht back the blind-
ing verti 0 until he saw his ife foe in the midst
of the mo , then the supportin arm of his friend
saved him from falling, and e was borne ex-
hausted back to bed.

“ Gravesend,” he d, huskily, “whatever
becomes of the other, don’t let them hang him!
My God! it must not be!”

‘ I will do what I can ” replied the major.

Then callin an attendant, in whose char he
hotel.

It was a terrible scene that the major wit—
nessed. Beneath the glare of the torches both
prisoners were ghastly in their pallor. It was
not the effect of fear; but both were faint from
loss of blood and from the excruciating pain oc—
casioned by their wounds. Only such iron wills
could keep the sick body from betraying its
weakness by utter prostration. Their stoical

citement about them.

The major thought rapidly. He reflected that I
he was under no particular obligation to save 1
The Stranger beyond the common debt he owed 1
with chagrin ‘
! that such an idea should cross his mind at such

humanity. hen he hit his lip
a moment! The next thought was that once
the mob had tasted blood, nothing would a
pease them until they had glutted t eir appeti

with the death of both their victims. In truth
to his friend, then, he must save both, in order
to save either. As a sort of amends to his con-
sflcrisetnce, he espoused the cause of The Stranger

“Fellow citizens!” he cried, with the instinc-
tive complaisance of a di lomate, “of what is
the man who calls himse f ‘The Stranger’ ac-
cused?” ‘

“ Bad luck to the thafe o’ the wor-ruld! he
has a propinsity fur appropriatin’ honest min’s
horses, an be hanged to ’im!” cried a voice.

“ Thar’s the hose, an’ hyar’s the ri htful own-
er; an’ he’s the galoot as rode him in town not
four hours a o,’ added another.

“The whe p had spotted him from nose to
crup; but I knowed him—you bet !—the minute
I clapped eyes on him,” aflirmed the owner of
the horse.

“Well,” gunned the major, “what, do you
purmto o with him?”

u 8. him In

“ Strin him up to the signboard!”

“ Cut off his wind with one 0’ Judge Lynch’s
patent collars!”

“Make a warnin’ of ’um—the spalpeen!—to
all horse-thaves !”

To still the hubbub, the major raised his hand,

and then addressed the mob with impressive'

gravity. 0

“ ntlemen,” he said, “have you considered
what you are doing? A man rides into town on
a horse which proves to have been stolen, and

to hang him. Is the evi- '

for that you purpose ,
deuce conclusive hat he actually stole the horse?
And if it were can you proceed without the
forms of law? Where is your judge? Where is
our jury? Where are your sworn witnesses?
who is to appear in defense of the prisoner? If
the owner of the horse were to take the law into
his own hands and kill the sup thief, it
would be murder. Is it any the ass murder if
he be assisted by a friend, or by. two, or ten, or
a hundred ?”

With this introduction, he harangued them
until he had given tinie for second thought.
Those who had not been particularly prominent
and had least to fear were the first to weaken ”
-—to use their own braced When in conclusion
the ma or pro that both prisoners be held

in co ement until the morrow,.when the
should hasten womasort of  ever,

. , .  yr ,
4g ‘ why : . I. .. ‘. ., , g

‘ crony,” Ned
3 attempt at escape from those within or at rescue
, ajor Gravesend made no reply. At refer- ‘
g ence to the possible death of The Stranger, there a
‘ arose before his mind a picture of Gentleman

H

i was that I would not do you the honor
! the hangman.”

 

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informal), before some sort of court (even if not

a \ 11y constituted one), they throw their in-

fl once on his side. \
The execution of mob law depends first of all

. upon unanimity, and a division being effected,

the more violent were compelled to yield to this

‘ compromise.

By this strange conjunction of circumstances,

! it was brought about that the two bitter foes

were confined in the same room. The unused
loft of a barn served as a “ calaboose;” and for
lack of iron gratings and stone walls the prison-
Bclow in
the stable, its owner, Lou Bradshaw, the town
jailer, sat, on ard, in com any with “an old
‘onkling, to (efeat any possible

from their friends without.

Exhausted by his suffcl‘in . , The Stranger lay
with c10sed eyes. Yet the hind lines of pain in
his pale face were softened by what seemed to
be a faint smile, as if his thoughts had strayed
away from rankling enmities and threatening
dangers, to pleasanter visions.

And indeed his fanc had called up a picture
fair to contcm late.— t was busy ainting a
beautiful face, ighted with pity an ——might it
be something more’I—while its owner struggled
to drag a wounded man behind a bar, out of the
reach ‘of danger.'\ Vague! , as if in some half-
for otten dream, he recal ed a warm teardrop

1 falling on his cheek and lips that thrilled him
3 even 1n remembrance touchin his in a kiss as light
3 as air.
[ the hope that there mi ht be was enough to 've
! life a new value.
i life, of which, till now, he had been so care—

Was there any reali y in it all? Even
Am was he now to lose hat

ess?

A harsh voice recalled himto the actualities
of the present.
“ “Yell, my chicken, I.wa.s in hopes of havin
another 0 )portunit to test your bullet-proo
qualities; at it 100 as if our kind friends had

‘ pretty effectually drawn our teeth for the pres-
left his friem , he descended to the steps 0 the ‘ ent ”

“.Did you get my reply to your pretty chal-
lenge?” asked The Stranger, mockinglty). “It
cheat

I have determined to cheat the

“Curse ou!

5 hangman in your case, in order that I may do
1 you the honor and myself the pleasure to roast

you alive!”

 “ Ah?” sneered The Stranger, tauntingly.
calm was terrible by contrast with the wild ex- ‘

“ Is it any part of your 11 to s it me as I
did your pretty fellow,p flissouri Bill, as he
called himself?” '

“ I’ll have you cut in inch pieces for that!”

“ Indeed? Shall ou commence the operation
immediately, or wait until your head is well out

1 of the noose?”

“ Bah! There isn’t rope enough in the Terri-

3 tory to hang me!”

“ No doubt the men who ran away will come
back to rescue you.” .

The Stran er laughed.

A volley o oaths told The Red Hand’s exas-
peration.

In the midst of this outbm'st, he used ab-
ruptly, while his face lighted up wit triumph~
ant expectation.

“ Hark!” he cried. “ Do your hear that?”

A murmur of voices rose from the floor be-
low. A man’s gmfl bass alternated with a
woman’s higher treble. '

“That "cried The Red Hand while his face
became iabolical in its glee—“ That means life
to me, and death to you!’

CHAN—Er? x11. \
TREACHERY.

LEFT alone to ard the prisoners, Lou Brad-
shaw and Ned onkling had recourse to their
ages and a greasy pack of cards, to while the
ium of their vigil. It was not long before
the became conscious of a great desideratum,
lachin which all other pleasures soon ed.
As onkling drew in the last “triclztl’yBrad-
shaw said:

“ You’ve got the rubber on me ag’in, an’ still

yer'not ha py.”

“Yes, Ben,” replied his companion, with
mock pathos; “but I feel a goneness—hyar!”

And he placed his hand where his vest would
have lapped, had he worn a double-breasted
one.

Bradshaw lau hed and said:

“Old hoss, a little 0’ the balm would build us
both up, I reckon, and keep out the dampness.”

“ An’ it’s a, werful onhealthy contrast-—
dampness is—w en a feller’s dry. A dr0p or
two might save us from talnn’ our death 0’ cold,
ye know!” . .

And the tippier wrnked at his own humor.

“ Suppose you go fur some, Ned,” suggested
the other. .

“ Ah, Ned, but the pris’ners? Bless their
hearts, but they’d miss me!”

“ Go along! I’ll console ’em, if they shed any
tears over your loss.”

“ Lou eou’re a chum as one kin tie to, every
time. ow ecu wouldn’t stick at an thing
to accommoda . .01" 010 pal. But—I to to
mention it like won, Nedl—only yeou k ow ’
the story: ‘talk’s cheap, but it takes to 

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fetch the whisky.’ An’ my banker, Ned—he’s v

slid, I reckon With all the funds. Leastways—”

“There! There! That’ll do! Hyar’s the
skads—”

“A temporary loan, ye know, Ned. When -
I’m flush—’ _ _

“ Oh, yes. Don’t mention 1t. As you say—a
temporary loan!”

And the speaker laughed.

HBuFi.‘

And he hesitated in the act of placin the
money in the eagerly expectant palm 0 his

com anion.

. ‘.~~t~"‘r~ . -
.i aux‘e‘, ,/. “2‘

. . -. A .7)

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A quick flash lighted the woman’s eyes, as she .‘

A Hard Crbwd; er, Gentleman, Sam’s Sister.

  

 

!

saw the liquor pass down his throat in several ;
following swallows; but her lips smiled all the }

while.

“ Whew !” gasped the man, catching his breath,
while the tears came into his eyes. ‘ A man ’ud
have to have a sheet-iron lining if he swigged
that every day! What kind 0’ whisky do yeou
call that?’

“ That ain’t whisky, Lou. That’s cognac,”

‘ said the woman.

“ ut?” echoed the other; and a ‘look of ‘

pathetic disappointment came into his face.

“ Ned ” said Bradshaw, with laughing calcu- '

lation, ‘zyeou know eour weakness.” .

“ Lou,’ proteste the other, “ ham’t we
pards?”

“ Oh, es, we’re pards fast enough."

“ Well): then ?”

Conkling evidently thought that settled the
matter.

“But when should 1 see yeou back again?
Not until yeou’d swilled all the licker yourself,
I’ll bet money!”

“Ned yeou don’t think I’d go back on yeou
like that?’

And the injured look of the old toper made
his chum shake his sides with laughter.

, nin .

task

“ Hyar. Take the money. An’ ef yeou hain’t 
I  be in your cups. You never acted so bold
‘ ore.

back with a full bottle and an empty whisky-
sink I’ll seal ye, sure?"

‘ ed,” said the other, earnestly, as he re- ‘

ceived the mono

with a radiant smile, “ef I :

hain’t square wi h yeou (his time, my scalp’s ;

yourn!”

And he trudged off throu h the mist and
drizzle, hug 'ng the money w ich was to ur—
ehase the w erewithal to "make a man of him.”

He had scarcely disappeared when Bradshaw
started at a sound very close at hand, and a

moment later a woman stood in the open door- 1
: surprise which left no doubt of his sincerity.

way laughing to see him gras his wea ons.
‘ Oh, you’re a brave one,” s e cried, ‘ to let a
woman give you such a start.”

“ Is that yeou,‘ Katie?” he asked, springing up
to meet her with mingled pleasure and rise

“ Have ou forgotten me, then, that you have .
y

to ask if it’s me?” she said, coquettishly.

“Never fear 0’ my forgettin’ yeou, though
I’ve seen little enough of yeou, of late, but in
my dreams. But, what in the world brings
yeou hyar this time 0’ night my prett '?—all

he same yeou’re welcome as owers in ay!”

And his words found corroboration in an at-
tem t at snatchin a kiss.

“ u!” admonis ed the woman, sharpl ; and
her read hand dealt his ear a ringing cu , as a
reward or his audacity.

S
But there was nothing of an er in the blow, ‘ ing her expectantl .
and he named it not far from rgightly when he i beside him he wmfid

exclaimed:

“Thunder an’ Mars, Katie! that’s a love-tap
as ’ud win the heart of a grizzly!”

f‘ I heard
thinking you (I be lonesome, I come to give you
a bit 0 my com
“I wouldn’t ’a’ one it, if ’d known you was
gomfiato forget your manners at the veil'y start.”

“ tie dear, don’t be hard on a to er,” ex-
it her lover. “I hadn’t had a drop to
wet m
taste 0 it; an’ bein’s I was dry, yer lips looked
so temptin’—”

“Don’t compare my lips to your bottle. If
you had less 0’ the bottle-”

“Or more 0’ the lips, Katie. There’d be no
use for the bottle then, ye know.”

“I’m afraid you’re a sad flatterer, Lou,” said
the woman, her pleasure beamin in her eyes.
“But, there’s man a worse one ghan you the
world over; and thinking you’d want some '
to keep the dam out-—”

'She drew a ask from beneath her shawl;
Eli‘qu run forward with pleased s rise

’
cried.

f‘ How ready you are for the bottle!” she said,
Withholdin" it with a show of vexation.

“Or the lips, Katie,” he said. “Make it the
gpsinan’ we’ throw the bottle out o’ the win-

er

At that she smiled again.

“Shall it be the lips?” he persisted, drawing
near her with an insinuating smile.

The woman looked at him-with e es that
sparkled saucily. With a laugh that trifled with
my delight she shrunk away from him, all the
while invitin him with her eyes.

The next instant he had caught her in his
arms and robbed her of that which costs
nothing, yet is worth so much—~to the parties
lm‘l‘n tely interested.

0h, alo with you!” she cried, snatching

herself rom his embrace and resenting him

With the bottle. “Are you a , that you
mt‘isgacnlilsh me 1;: ggath?” ,

‘ y 11% can snuggern yeour buffe ” be

But am I to have the A

bot le too?” . has an tho

“No, no, I give you the bottle to kee you

repea your nonsense,” she replied.) ‘

‘.‘It,_wouldn

, taste I0 if I tho ht eon
 speech.” he wwplfing‘tge bits.
' I I ., ‘ r‘ I ~ ‘ I ,

I .
x

‘g,  ,

whistle—it’s so long I’ve forgot the .

1 don’t care fur nobody

ted.

“ ‘Coneyac!’ ” he re . _
What in blazes is cone-

was fire’n brimstone!
yac?”

“Hear the man!
brandy is Lou?”

“ Not that kind. I reckon that’s bottled light-

9”

Don’t you know what

“ If on don’t like what I bring you, you
shan’t ave any more!”

And she snatched the bottle from his hand.

“ Hold on Katie,” he began.

“ Don’t Katie me!” she interrupted him.

“Oh, I see,” he replied, slyl .

nonsense, as yeou call it.”

“ Huniph!‘ she exclaimed, with a toss of her
head.
Thin bending a searching look upon him, she

e .
“ What’s the matter with you, Lou? You

“ Not because I didn’t want to!” he replied,
quickly. ‘

A sudden change came over the woman.

“ Lou,” she said—and going close to him she
gazed earnestly into his face, with that uliar
shrug of the shoulders and setting of e head
on one side which is so enchantin a mark of
shyness, and a nervous interlacing o the fingers
— ‘Lou, do you really care anything for me?”

“ Care for yeou?” he cried, with an honest

Then, drawin a doe breath, he ejaculated
with a snort o earn ess:

“ Wal I—yeou jest begeilagl yer ole bonnets I
e
“ Oh, Lou !” exclaimed the woman; and with

‘ that clasping of the hands where each grasps

the other as in congratulation—not 'the inter-

laced fingers of des or supplication—she

' looked up at him wi h a delight which showed

!
l

l

ou’d got to watch all night, and ‘ her head against

ny ” ex lained the woman. E

l
.
i
i
|
|

tie! yeou’re one of a million!" he ,

in her dancing eyes.

“Katie,” he began, taking her by the shoul—
ders and azing into her face as if incredulous
of his g fortune; but she interrupted him.

“Sit down, Lou,” she said, and pushed him
toward a bfx inba cotrgandei;0 01f1 tbs1 roozn. tch

mihng' ' esu mit er 'rec ion wa -
When she placed herself
have clasped her in his
arms, in the enthusiasm of his new-found hap-
filinem; but holding his hands she revented
'm, and nestlinglclose to his side e leaned
is shoulder, so that she could

look into his eyes.

“ Katie,” he said, in a tone lowered by his
earnestness, “is it so? Do yeou like me, an’
will con have me some do. ’

“ n’t talk. Lou,” said t e woman; “I want
to think of it all.”

Again he submitted, and with a strange feel-
ing of rest and content leaned back against the
wall, only holding to her hands, as if it were
thingible evidence of what seemed too good to

true.

In this position her eyes held his as if by fas-
cination. If he noticed that everything was
becoming dreamy, it was without surprise.

The woman remained motionless until his
heavy eyelids closed and his head sunk to one
side until it found rest in the angle of the walls.
Then she called him gently.

‘6 In“. )7

He ve no indication of hearing her.

Wiigiadrawing herself from her semi-recum-

bant 'tion she. gazed at him fixedly. She
- Slim}: '1” , calling again:
(5 

 

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His heavy breathing showed how completely
his senses were wrapped in lethargy. .

Now the treache of the woman showed in
the exultant gleam in her 0 es.

“A clod!” she mutte , and spurned him
with her foot, as a sort of revenge for her en-
forced fondling of a moment before.

With swift motions whose dexterity showed
that the work was no unaccustomed, she dis-
armed the unconscious man, taking his knife
 Then, seizrizn  carbinfiei1 and that
o companion onkhn' , esprung
gbtihe stairway leading into tug loft of the

e.
“ ow for freedom to The Red Hand!” she
exclaimed, with a sort of fierce exultation.
“Did these dolts think to hold him, who is a
king to them i”

CHAPTER XIII.
A TIGEESS.

“THAT means life to me and deathto you!”
had been The Red Hand’s exultant exclamation;
and When the woman appeared a the stairway
he‘eo‘uld hardly wpressva shmitoFtrinmph. '

3;»?3914; ' g .

ms vw a...-

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.& ._a ir .- .g a.

“ Yeou take I
the bottle away from me so’s I’ 1 go back to my ‘

“ I should say it ‘

 

I slay a lion even c ained!” “ .5 .
t

 

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’tragedyw

    
   
   
   
 
  
 
   
    
  
  
   
     
  
  
     
     
  
     
  
   
 
   
   
   
  
 
  
  
    
    
   
    
    
    
   
  
   
   
    
  
  
     
   

With scarcely a lance at The Stranger, the
woman hastened to he Red Hand.

“My king and master!” she cried, kneeling
and bending over him, “my hand gives you
back to life and liberty!”

With an almost tigerish passion she caught up .
his head and kimed him on the forehead and lips; ., :-, 

“That’s enough of sentiment,” he replied, . , "
harshly. “Now cut these accursed bonds!” \

“They constricted m heart while they galled
your flesh,” she repli , slashing them asunder \l .
with the knife she had taken from Lou Brad- 

aw.

With a. bound The Red Hand gained his feet, ,
fhen shook himself, as a lion just risen from his
air.

“ Free once more!” he cried.
the bounds retake me!”

His rolling eye fell upon The Stranger, yet
prostrate and hel less in his bonds.

“Ha!” cried t e robber chief, “here is one
debt yet unpaid! Now, my trussed bird,” he
continued, mockingly, “I’m ready to spit you,
as ou suggested!” ..

natehing the knife from the woman’s hand - 
he advanced upon his rostrate foe, with eyes, a ,, “
glowing with sav alight and white teeth .' 
leaming throng ' shaggy beard like the
angs of some beast of prey.“ _ ‘

As for The Stranger, w ' e no fluctuation of  
color, no wavering glance, no quiverin muscle
gave indication of evena shadow of fear, emade
such an effort to avert instant death—or better
slaughter—as no brave man need have blushed
to make. ‘

“You cowardly cur!” he cried, his wound for-
gotten in the storm of passion that moved ' ‘ I - .

‘dare you so much as free one of my hands ‘ 
But it would be lory enough for such a dog to ~ ‘  .

 

I

“ Now let’s see

\ ».
..,.

Oh-ho, m bantling! how loudly you crow!”
eered The Hand. “ I’ll release, not one;
but both your hands. And then let’s see if you
can peck in proportion to your racket.” ,  .

As he spoke he reeled with vertigo induced by .
the loss of blood he had sustained from'the '
wmmd inflicted by The Stranger’s bullet in the .
Occidental Saloon. But a mighty effort of his 
will sent the blood into his brain; and he  3

red forward through the refuse hay w ' I - 
ittered the floor of the barn loft. -' .- ‘ .

Meanwhile a wonderful changhad come over. . -
the woman who had liberated m. When she" "
first heard The Stranger’s voice and saw hisfaeez :
by the light of a lantern which hung from . i .
o the rafters, she started, drop ing the i I ., f 
which she still held, with a an den 
within herself, and at him with ,v
eyes. The lon r she ooked the more deeply g
seemedmov . " Ia 

“My God! it is he!” she muttered bean ‘
heWbtrhamshup f ' sh ' '

1 a o owm in 
face, she ressedsmandspglvlhr her heartg than ’ A
carried t em to her head withasense that it  :
was about to burst. For an instant the reels 1 ‘
spun round; the air seemed turbid and 811300;:-
ing; and she began to gasp hysterically. .. ‘ - -
utasThe Red Hand her, heunoew’ _
moniously thrust his hand beneath the rm . in,
her shawl and drew forth a knife from itofldw, ,*
mi , with which he evidently was familiamJ.“
this the blood leaped again to her brainr’x; . ‘
awakening: vivid realization of the im v "
'ch must result from the mee '
these men. Where a moment before she 
for air kshe nfiw stood  ,
rmlnng' bee wi clasped as help-4
less to avert the meeting . she dreaded,  ,, ~
watching the antagonists w1th eyes that _ I 
not withdraw themselves. ., ~ r in.

Whatever the past relations between him 
the woman, thus far The S 
ticed her particularl ,
way distracted his a , p .,
ing foe. Conscious of his own extreme lostot
strength, he noted every indication of weakneh .
on the part of The Red Hand. Hekmwflnt
neither could sustain a protracted struggle." _
pad that he might be able to command
cient strength for one (manta efl’ort. . I _

The Bed Hand reae the side of his.‘

him, cut his bud!
thrustaknifeintehishand.  he rou- again
he was almost overcome With vertigo,  _ -- .
clutched at a for su port. . v ,  w w

ButasThe rangergo upon  feet  .i
was struck with a blindmg' dizziness which 1.3; :13:
had not felt in his recumbent position, andehs  ‘
fain to lean ' the well, While he passed   '
ha.an actrlpss his forehead. . ts f i ,i ‘_-__4;,,"%

us e stood,oncegian o prowesglbwcr’ "“
almost c dren in their weakness, wal ' , liar s
strength to begin the contest which was be i
to the death. . ,, ‘ -

Whether became his wound had nottaldupon >
himsoni‘ililcamordtihgit the transitign ,t 1,3
stOo' Btu-n gereCtWasno sogreans, 2:"
intli’emcgseofTheStranfier,  *
the first to recover; an balancing himself ‘

 

 

    
      
   
    
  
   
   
     
 
   
   
     
      
     
 
  
   
        
       
   
 
    
     
    
   

.1, ’

  

   

his legs, hecried: , 
“Time! Time! Getretaldyforthedog’gidaflhi“;i

youmetedouttomyparmer” .- in;
“-——in crime? conclud‘  smug

quickly. 7  , - a r
mummmmmm

   

.. ~.
, . '1»; a i.
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."‘.

 
  
   
  
  
   
    
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
   
    
    
    
   
 
    
      
  
   
  
   
  
     
  
   
   
    
   
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
   
      
 
   
    
   
  
   
      
 
  
   
   
  
 
 
   
  
 
  
  
     
   
   
  
  
 
    
   
        
   
  
     
   
   
   
   
   
      
      
 

y‘)‘ -’

._....._.._.. ,.., _. ._ _. , a ..- ._, ,.,..

 

if to clear his vision. Then fixing his eye, which
in that moment regained all its wonted fire, on
his foe, and grasping his knife firmly, he ad-
vanced, saying):
“ You were irds of a feather; and as I spit-
ted him I’ll make a brace of you!”
Already they were toe to toe, and their blades
, crossed with a. rin ‘ng clash, when a piercing
scream thrilled bot to the heart; and the wo-
man darted forward, clutching The Red Hand‘s
. arm and dra ging him forcibl back.
'  ! top ! You sha not fight!” she

“ Ofl’ you 'ade!” re lied The Red Hand, and

would have uifeted er, but that she caught
‘ his (I, her'um‘mpaired strength more than a

match for his weakness from loss of blood.
“I say you shall not fight!” repeated the

woman.
' ' “What! Dare ou dictate—”
' ~ ; “Hallo, hyar! 11! What in blazes is the
?' matter with the man? Doggauned ef he hain’t
‘\'- gone fast asleep. leey, hyar! Wake up, I say!”
’ . The voice came from below stairs, causmg
The Red Hand to break off in his speech an
“listen. ' ‘
For onee‘Ned Conkling had been faithful to
mission, and, conquering (not without a
\. 1struggle which might have won canonization in
a be r cause) his affection for “ greased light-
- , hin’,” had borne the liquid treasure from the
‘ lace where criminals are made to the place
where they are confined.
“ , 'Finding his chum asleep, as he supposed, on

I
"1

his , he crossed the room and shook him
,  r0 y by the shoulder, saying:
.. a “ o, hyarl ake up! T e hull posse o’
.  , , gthmves is goin’ to gobbleusup an run oil?
.1, ,, .Bgis’nersl”
,5 ’ -.“ you hear that?” cried the woman, ad-
~ 9“, ‘dressing The Red Band. “Go! You can es-

’ cape that drunken lout; but in a minute he will
..  have a swarm of men here to intercept you.”
' ‘ ! - “I’ll have time to pay this debt!” said The
‘ ' Hand, doggedly, t ' to free himself and
g  “I tothe cqiielslt with, ' helStrsn er.
 so. you no pers ste e woman,
-- . ' {rim toward the stairway.
- ’ f‘. at in Cain! Is the cuss dead? An’—-
« “Hallo! What’s this hyari—a woman’s bonnet!
. ’ An’ Lou’s istols—they’re gone! An’ do my
 ,. buttons of he scallawags hain’t carried 0 our
', .' ‘cat'bines! Thar’s been a stampede hyar, sure!”
' This was Ned’s summarization of the state of
. I, I ' as he found them, and the conclusion he
"- drewxflierefrom. He assumed that the prison-
. «shad fled; but he wanted help to look to the
.7 - "donut his old crony, if he was not indeed dead;
,  going to the door he put his hands to his
 math and uttered a prolonged Indian war-
, W . ‘
'Wl Go!” cried the woman, desperately,
I ' The Red Hand toward the stairway.
' “ 0"} will find the horses beneath Hangman’s

: , “A'fit l” muttered the robber chief,
-. M b sinister sarcasm oLevents.

. .1 \ v  Conkling’s warwhcop rung through
' the night answered this time by a shout from
the direction of the saloon he had so recently
' Then followed a confused sound of

  

 

‘ " ‘: mt  in excited exclamation.
'  , that there was no time for his encoun-
16' ' The Stranger, even with the woman’s

’is our second round, and no blood. But

, r, the next time it is to the death, if

. the devil and all his legions stand in the way!
‘ , '. “we times and out!”

. , 1th that he turned and tottered down the

,J .39”! Forward, men!” he cried to an imagine
 “an’ we’ll’puta stopper on the clac
!

,r ‘ , tion removed, The Red Hand shook his
‘ flhmmmmmdma:

'. :Al 0’ he, hefired a shot at random, ri htl
; " “pothgt the, valiaéitthliedyogld ttlgingé
an? roun 1' an so
 usntil h courage had the support of
. .1;:coxhpanionshi . In this way his passage was
4 left-clear to td’e open air. -
"*But the Woman remained, to confront The
. with a visage which would have done
{credit to a. Gorgon.

7 He stood staring blankly at her, as he had
' . #7 tion: theilrst of her interference, when he had
' n a clear view of her face.

 w‘.’ ell!” she cried, fiercely, “ do you recog-
.: . , .

in? !
‘Pepdtol”hesaid, ins dazedsortofwa.

ou know me!” she cried, wolfis y.
'Mht that you were dead 1” he stam-

tnel‘ed, again his hand across his brows.
h no fa t

“A9: .9». “Throug
alive!” she Ina _ ”
“ You know that I did not strike at you.

. -..“Bah! You struck at my heart of hearts!
Calvin-night you stabbed my brother to the
 ~ Bu do you think you hurt me there?
. Eel, 1%.wa deserved his death, if he was not

  
 

of yours, if I am still

, —-su‘cha-—suchw—
. ' at a; loss‘for an epithet sunl-
o

‘ ve diminutivcness by which

  

  

   

enough. to cope with spch a manikin—su/ch .

7

he New; ‘Ydrk j Ligam-

I '_;_-'Vo‘1.“I.

 

men, the contrast between him and the tower-
ing form of The Red Hand was vcry marked.
After a moment‘s hesitation the exasperated
woman burst forth:
“ Bah! you are not big enough for a fair-
sized woman! If I were a man I would refrain
from striking you for the same reason! If,

, then, my brother allows himself to be overcome

by such a whifl’et in a fair fight with lmives, I

have no regrets—J disoan him, as unworthy.

But,” she pursued, with clenched fists and blaz-

in eyes, “when you direct your bullets—that

ingernal invention which places all men on an

Equality—when you direct your bullets against
2m—

“It was in self-defense, even had he not
given me just provocation,” interrupted The
Stranger.

The woman’s manner underwent a sudden
change.

“Oh, yes!” she laughed, mockingly. “We
made a fine dupe of you, did we not! And why
have you just assurcd me so earnestly that you
did not strike at me? Do you love me still(
Ha! Ha! Ha! lVell, then, know that I hate
youl—I hate youl—I HATE YOU !” she cried, rais-
ing her voice at each repetition, until it ended
in a shrill scream of fu .

“See!” she continu , “I have just saved

our life. For love of you? No! No! No!

ords are inadequate to express my detesta-
tion—my abhorrence—my loathing of you! I
save your life as I would that of a mangy cat!
I toss it to you as I would toss meat to a dog!
I spurn it from me! I spit upon it, as I s 1t
11 on you! You are a stench in my nostrl s!

ou offend my sight! I would shrink from
touching you as I would recoil from contact
with a slimy lizard! Faughl in your presence
every sense shudders with horror and disgust!
I leave you to the dog’s death which is coming

with yonder mob! At (your last gimp reflect
that I laufghl—I jeer—I ancc!——I—
With ngers curved like claws and lips

drawn back from her teeth in such a manner as
to be vividly suggestive of the tigress in her
nature, she ‘ad advanced until scarcely a foot
separated her from The Stranger, hissing her
fierce words into his face. But sudden! she
broke off. with a scream, and fled, wit her
hands over her ears, like some crazy creature.

The heart of a woman is a strange thing. Did
she hate him so, or was her ve intensity an
indication that after her tigeris fashion, she
loved him? Who can tell?

As she disappeared down the stairway the re-
action came; and The Stranger sunk almost un-
conscious tothe floor. The confused voices of
the mob, which had reached the stable-door,
and the sharp crack of a pistol, followed by a
groan, came to him faintlv, as if from a dis-
tance. As things which stir the blood during
wakefulness often call forth no corrcs nding
emotion in a dream, so he was 'ust su ciently
conscious to take cognizance of he sounds, but
felt no thrill.

Was the woman dead?

He did not even ask himself the question.

CHAPTER XIV.
BENEATII THE HANGMAN’S OAK.

Dncmvnn by The Red Hand’s ruse and hav-
ing the an d fate of his chum before his
eyes, Ned (Blonkling beat a h retreat, or, to
use own expressiong “cut 'rt out 0’ that
right smart, fur a fact! ’

‘Hallo, h ar! W’at’s the row?” was the salu-
tation of P0 or Tom, as Ned showed no inten-
tion to slacken his pace until he was in the
midst of friends. .

“The hull kit an’ caboodle of ’em’s up yon,”
panted the badly routed guard.

“Who?”

“What?”

“Whar?”

A score of voices questioned him, eagerly, as

 

the men athered ’round.
“The Hand an’ his hullbgan ,” re lied
Ned, excitedl . “They’ve go led; up

an’ when I ye ed they charged me down the;
stairs with a broadside, an’—-well bein’s as I’ve

ot a family, I cut stick: an’ hyar I be. I reckon
he ambushed Lou behind a tticoat. He’s
lai out alongside of a. woman’s nnet.”

“No more chin-music! Hurray. tellers! ur
they’ll give us the sli ,” urged a voice.

“Hold on!” cried oker Tom who was not
so “keen ” after The Red Hand as became an
honest citizen.

But a mob recognizes leadership only in the
men who are in advance; and the gambler
found himself likely to be left alone.

Pell-mell they rushed each with his revolver
held in readiness, until they came in sight of
the open stable-door, from which the figure of a
woman was issuing.

“ Whoo l Hyar’s somethin’ l” yelled the fore-
most. “ old on hyar, missy! We wants a
lock 0’ er ha’r!”

And 0 extended his hand to west her flight.

“ Die, you feel 1” was her fierce re ly.

A pistol exploded almost in his ace, and he

ell thout a

 

forhisstature. Asa not
.9“ ‘ .

,r-. ,. .. ‘. 7, w“,

 

“mi”! .1  stop’erl” yelledthemObr
. to  on'awomsn. _
 ©1104: —\. - . .
        ‘

 

“It’s a galoot in women’s clo’s! Give ’im a
pill fur Lou!”

Then their pistols spoke in a scattering voile .

But a taunting laugh came back from t e
obscurity, where the fluttering skirts of the
woman could be but dimly distinguished.

With the advantage of dress in their favor,
the men found that her fleetness was fully a
match for theirs; and when she reached Hang-
man’s Oak she had rather gained on her pur-
sucis. There she mounted a horse with an
agility which went far in support of Ned Conk-
ling’s theory.

A second volley of pistol shots had no percep-
tible effect. The fugitive bent to her horse’s
withers, and urged h1m forward with voice and
rein, usm her knife for a spur. The animal
bounded orward, and was soon swallowed up
by the darkness.

The mob gathered in a disapfiginted group
beneath Hangman’s Oak, their ' content aug-
mented by the discomfort of the glutinous mud
under foot and the wretched, drizzlmg rain from
above.

The chagrin of one found expression in words.

“This hyar all ccmcs 0’ alaverin’ and red
tape! When all that’s neede is a couple 0’ yards
9’  hemp rope, what’s the use 0’ Jedges, an’
Jm'168,_ an’ witnesses, and ettifog 'n’ whelps
a-makin’ out that black’s white, an white’s no
color at all. When I knows a thin , I knowsit!
—an’ I don’t want no galoot what takes to
tongue-wag?’ in the place 0’ earnin’ a’ honest
livin’ to gi own no lot 0’ books an’ try to make
me believe that it ain’t so. Ef a man s ketched
hoss-stealin’, heng ’im higher’n Hamanl—that’s
law an’ gospel enough lur me!”

“I piles my chips on that color every time!”
responded a voice. “ By rights the galoots
ou ht to be swingin’ from this yar limb, now.”

‘ An’ the do gauned thieves has got the im-

idence to bite thar bosses whar they’d ought
had thar necks hitched!” added one who evi-
dentl relished the joke.

Bu this discussion was fruitless, the birdshav-
ing fiown- and slow] the men picked their way
through the mud bac to the stable, to look after
the luckiess Lou. The found him in the same
iiaesztdly lethargy, whic was destined to be his

s cc

Whetlfer he might have been saved by the
timely application of medical skill can never be
known; ior attention was suddenly diverted
frcm him by a cry from the stable loft.

Led by a curicsi which found gratification
in everything assocmted with the escaped c1 imi-
nal, some of the 11 ch in prowling about the
premises, had sttleed upon The Stranger.

In a mcment rccr Lou was forgotten, and the
stable left was thrcngcd, Poker Tcm now the
loudest of all in denunciation.

“ Hun'a ! by all the snakes, we’ve got the
kin pin,” 6 cried. “See! the knavevas too
we to crawl (if, after his friends had armed
him with rihtickler an’ bull-dogs. Bears. hand
hyar, tellers, an’ we’ll hang him high enough to
make up fur the cne as has 've us the slip.

The pistols lay far teycn his reach; but even
had they been at histand The Stranger was in
toodrcamva strpcr to have used th¢m in self-
defense. 'hcn the rudc mcn approached he of-
fered no cppcsiticn. When they jeiked him un-
ceremoniously frcm the floor he lapsed into
total unconsciousness.

. Unheedcd now their 'hes and jcers. No kind-
hng eye abashed his ru e assailants. The most
fiowardly vermm need show no respect to a dead

on.

“ I sa , fellers,” suggested Poker Tom, with a
grin, “ et‘s give him 18 send-off from the hack
0’ the last hoss he stole.”

The proposition met with eneral applause;
and soon the beast was brough . The limp i‘oxm
of the unconscious man was set astride and held
in position by men walking on either side of the
horse, while another led him by the bridle.

Thus this weird procession, its ghastly de-
formities disclosed bythe light of lanterns and
rudely-improvised torches, passed throgfih the
gloom—Nature’s re rotation of the unh owed
proceeding—to the atal tree. Witnessin the
wild antics of the mob and hearing their un-
couth utterances, as they gave expression to
their feelings, some in rude attempts at the
Rogue’s March, some in mere ejaculations of
dnmken exultation, a stran r to the manners
and language of the pe0ple might have mistaken
this for some savage ritual over the remains of a
de arted Chieftain. ‘

e hubbub aroused the whole town, and the
mob received constant augmentation, until
when it reached Hangman’s Oak, 1t comprise
all that had been present at the previous riot,
and man more. , .

Major ravesend havmg left his friend the
doctor under the influence of a narcotic, stood
in the outskirts of the crowd, Viewin the pro-
ceedings with a gloomy frown. In is breast
was waging a stubborn conflict. Humanity
urged him to interfere in behalf of the uncon-
scious man; but something which he refused to
analyze and at which he frowned , bi ’ his
nether lip with finpflfim when it lax-m be-
foremmthefaeeofGentleman Sam’s .m

with haunting plauth : l \
mob will brook no in rfmnceinow,

. \ \ . I " ' ‘ ' ' 54! -

.ml , ._I‘ .
4‘“ ck. . “"L r 

 

 r 3'

 

"- ‘ ‘* ‘. i,-. l‘-"\
,. ~ -. ..

lNo. l.

A” Hard CroWd;

. \ I
, u
)

o‘r, Gentleman Sam’s Sister. -

 
  

 

 

What can a single arm do a inst the blind pas-

sion of these devils incarna 1 ,You are under
’ no obligation to risk your own life in defense of
s a stranger who more than likely is guilty of the
charge brought against him, and whosehfe, in
an event, has been little good, while lus death
Wi be little loss, to seeiety.”

Whether or no this were sufficient ‘ustifica- ;

tion of inaction, he made it answer, not owever
without keen compunctions of conscience and
questions which he could not stifle as to his real
motives.

Meanwhile The Stranger had been brou ht
under the fatal limb anl the rope adjusted to llS
neck, whose fine proportions were disclosed by his
shirt lying open at the breast. A Jarrin of the
boughs of the tree had sent down repeato show-
ers of rain upon his face and breast,.arous1n
him to a dim perception of his Situation. Ye
his e Lyes remained closed, and he gave no out-
war indication of life.

“Gents,” said one of the men who were hold- l

ing The Stranger in position, “ it’s bad luck to
send 0!! a galoot as hasn’t the senseto know that
he’s been snuffed out; an’ I reckon I don’t want
to take no leadin’ haul in no such
want to smell brimstone all my ' e, an’ have
‘ this cuss’ spook
an’ corner. I a ow we’d better give ’im three
fingers ur so, as‘ll make ’im pick up enou h to
know that the Old Gent’s got a seat pick
fur ’im down below.”

“ Give him the whisky l” assented Poker Tom,
30:: with the best grace. He was impatient of

e ay.

The fiery stimulant was poured between the
unresisting lips. Its effect was soon apparent.
The Stranger drew a deep tremulous breath, and
opened his eyes. i _

“ We’ve got yeou, ye thievm' whelp!” yelled
the exultant gambler, shaking his fist in the face
of his victim. “ Now git ready fur a clean jump
into as red hot a hole as they’ve got t’other side
0’ Kiring 11 Come!”

“ Glt ready nts!
let her b’ile! hoop! an’ away e goes!”

The executioners drawn their knives to
prick the horse into a sudden bound which
should carry him from beneath the doomed
man, leaving the latter dangling in the  All
was prepared for the fatal lunge; but their hands
were sta ed.

“ Hol l” cried a shrill voice, which cut the
air like a knife.

The incisive tone of command, enforced by
the ringing report of a pistol fired in the air
thrilled every one to the heart and arr
every motion.

Then there was a Wild clatter of iron-shod
boots, the breathless rush of two horses urged to
‘ break-neck speed, the warning cries of the crowd

as they surged apart to give passage to the reck-
less riders, a sudden reining in of . the steeds
upon their haunches and, almost as if they had
rung from the c ouds, Dauntless Jerry and
entleman Sam‘s sister appeared bcside the vic-
tim of mob law, facing his executioners with
dra .vn pistols.
With the scrape-like blanket wrapped about
his shoulders, his sombrero drawn low over his
, 8 es, and the handkerchief binding One eye and
" t e side of his head, Dauntless Jerry looked like
a young brigand, as he dashed the nearest torch
from its bearer’s hand.
But the dim eyes of The Stranger took no cog-

No more ver! Now

nizance of his presence. They were fixed on the .

Minerva-like beauty of his sister, whose white
raga awed that whole mob of rude men. His
heart thrilled with admiration of the regal ges-
ture with which she severed the ro above his
head. But those who had an him leaped
aside to avoid be' tramp] beneath the iron
boots of his frien ’horses; the animal bebo-
strode plunged once or twice before he could be
restrained by Jerry’s ready hand; and in the
effort to reserve his balance the stren of the
wound man gave way, and he again lapsed
into unconsciousness.

Deftly Gentleman Sam’s sister urged her
horse to the side of the fainting man. With
such a look es mi ht have thrilled him back into
conscious life, h be seen it, she threw her arm
about him and received his head upon her

m.

l It was a tragicall -beautiful tableau—a pic-
ture which blanche_ Major Gravesend’s cheek
and caused him to bitchis ii to the drawing of
blood, as he ur  we h the crowd,
to range himse f bende t e beautiful Amazon
who thus boldly plucked meat from between the
lion’s paws.

CHAPTER XV.

DELIVERED ANEW.

DAUH’I'LESS Jerry had left the bedside of The
. Stranger with a mind tossed about by rturbed
thong t. The stirring scenes of tha eventful

night furnished man topics for reflection.
‘How strong and brave he is!” mused the
youthth of the gladiatorial muscular de-
velopment unwavering eye of The Stran-

EBB. “Ifhediu—but, no! heshallnotdie!”

mg quick-med home’s pace with excite-
{and My his mind to he.

' ' . \ s ‘ .

I , , f i l

\l'

 

e. I don’t ,
kin’ round in every dark hole ;

out 1

7 strange agitation manifested by Dr. Chilling- I
. response; am

worth.
“What did he see in me the"; disturbed him
so?” asked Jerry of himself. “It must be a
1 chance resemblance. He can be nothing to me.
‘ And yet, the hair might have deceived him. He
‘ shall see my sister!”

face almost immediately became serious again.
“ IVhat if the whole mystery of my life were
to be cleared up? I believe that Mad Kate
knows, if I could only get her to tell. Poor
Kate! she has been father, mother, brother, and
sister to me.

Jerry laughed lightly, as he spoke; but his ,

But if this man should know; if i

he should prove that I am what I have scarcely ‘

l"

dared to ho
He pause , while a deep flush mounted to the

f after my pistol had unseatcd its former rider,

roots of his hair; and when he spoke again, his ;
a.voico had that peculiar tenderness so like a i

, woman’s.

“ No! no! not to be made ruler over all the
world! It may be a vain hope, after all; but I
‘ will avoid him until—until—”

The flush, hidden by the darkness, grew deep-
er and deeper on his cheek; and his voice sunk
into silence; so that he concluded only in
thou ht:

“ e might be abashed, if I proved to be one

of the andecs. Not that any are too good or
too hi ’ for him! God heal him of that terrible
woun l’

I’ By this time he had left the town far behind,
, and plunging into the woods along a bridle—
J path, he soon came upon the secluded cabin
;‘ which he called his home. An hour later, two
' riders emer d from the bridle—path upon the
highway. 11 one we might have recognized,
but for the darkness, Dauntless Jerry’s sera -
 like blanket and slouched sombrero. But be
3 other, had it been light enough to distinguish
, loveliness from deformity, would have chained
the attention. In the young girl whose rare
l beauty of form and feature must have been
striking in an assemblage, we would have re-
co d Gent eman Sam's sister.
ot from the uncertain light of the lantern
suspended from the foot of her escort to enable
them to pick their way through the rayless
night—for it gives only vaguely the general
o_u lines of their figures—but from our recollec-
tion of her as she appeared in the morning, we
| might draw a comparison ‘ving to her cheek a
l most dazzlin fairness, wit the faintest percep-
tible tinge o carnation, where his was bronzed
with exposure and overcast with the bluish
ks indicative of a shavcn beard, and, in the
p ace of his saucy black rings, investing her
with a crown of beauty in the mass of golden
blonde hair which fell unrestrained to her
waist. Otherwise she was as like the Jerry
whose hand and e e had curbed the ra of the
ruflian Red Han as twin birth cou d make
brother and sister.
As they rode along they seemed absorbed by
preoccupied thought; and the silence between
hem was only occasionally broken by discon-
nected speech. But when they neared the town
their attention was attracted by discordant
sounds and an unwonted illumination of the
fog air.
‘ e devils are at work again !” Md Gentle—
man Sam’s Sister, giving the rein to her horse.
.Perha s it was some subtle instinct which
kindled er impatience as they advanced. To
kee ) pace with her, Je was forced to urge
his orse with ur as wel as voice, long beme
they reached t e vicinity of Hangmans Oak.
When they came in sight of it, the girl ex-
claimed:
“See! they are about to hang some one!”
' executioners raised The Stranger’s
head to  the stimulant, the li ht of a
torch fell upon his face, and even at t t dis-
tance the girl—did some sentiment of heart

quicken her rce tionsl—recognized him.
“My ! I ’s The Stranger!” she ex-
claimed

Then, with a cruelty born of desperation, she
goaded her horse with the int of a knife into
that fierce rush which carried her to the side of
the doomed man in time to save him from an
ignomimous death.

What pen can do justice to her fierce beauty,
as she supported the limp form of The Stran r
and seat ed his enemies with the fire of er
eyes. It would have made his heart lea had
be seen her face and interpreted aright w at it
expressed. But she, i orant of her own feel-
ings, perha , never med that aught was
beim ed w ch she might wish to hide.

“ ou cowards!” were the first words in
which her mthering contempt found expres
sion. “ What is the meaning of this on ?”

Poker Tom was in nowise anxious to w
the wrath of so fierce a nature upon himself.
He had seen a displa of Dauntless Jerry’s
mettle during the car evening; and rumor
said that Gentleman am’s sister was in no
whit behind her brother in courage and skill
With the revolver. He therefore curbed his in-
ternal rage at this frustration of his purposes,
and kept safely in t background.

It was the Owner 0 the horse who replied:

“Wei, mum, I don’t know as this hyar’s

 

’ | i l . .

I ‘ .a. i

o’ eonr funeral;butfliewhel stole hoes,
flywe’re puttin‘ Mmthm‘fm‘k’l’ny

 

defense,” said

  
   
  
    
  
    
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
  
  
  
    
  
  
   
   
    
 
  
    
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
   
    
   
 
  
   
     
  
   
   
    
   
   
     
  
   
  
    
  
   
  
    
   
  
  
  
    
     
    
     
   
  
  
   
   
    
    
   
      
     
        
    
   
    
     
    

“You lie, you vagabondl” was the prompt Lu

Gentleman Sam’s sister thrust
the muzzle of her
man’s face.

This was unanswerable logic—the only kind. ,
which will “go down” with the sort of men
with whom she had to deal. Gentleman Sam’s
sister evidently understood their mode of rea-
soning; but she also appreciated the fact that,
after conclusions have been drawn in this way,

a slight admixture of ordinary evidence may
givedthem greater permanence in the popular
min : - \

“ I was present when this gentleman first ‘7
came into . .ssion of this horse. I myself
held the bri le of the animal for him to mount,

pistol within six inches of the

who was one of The Red Hand’s gang. They
had ambushed him and would have murdered
him, had he not escaped on this horse. .If the
beast was stolen, look to The Red Hand and his
fellows for the thief. ” “
Without waitin for fiu'ther argument, she . 
turned to Major avcsend, who by this time ‘
had Igained her side, and said: ' ' _. . '
“ ere, sir! You look like a gentleman. Will ,v , 
you assist in getting a stretcher on which this. " ‘
gentleman can be borne to a place of shelter?” '3 I.
With her lorious eyes resting upon him“ , ‘.
something of i s wonted color returned to Major \’ ;‘
Gravesend’s check; and he replied, with marked 3 5‘

deference: K. -
“Madam, I am at your service.” " '
Thistimeitwasonlyaro hboard,takenas '
the first thing which came to (I. But it an-
swered the

; and The Stranger wassoon  .'

on his way  to the widow Robinson’s. .3 ‘
Itwaswithananxiousfaoethatthat estimar ".
ble lady met them at the door of her humble

—\
‘_."V

abode; but she was soon reassured b Gentle-
man Sam’s sister; and while her deft re re-   ,.
arranged things for the reception of her-invaa, " 3.:

 

 

lid guest she gave pious expression to her joy at, .y‘. . _ 
his return

Soon Dauntless Jerry appeared with the sur- , ' "3‘
goon whom he had summoned anew; endzhile ‘j 3 t
the man of medicine examined his petien ’then.‘ 
youth stood aloof in abstracted meditation: , s A

“If he is now properly cared for,” said 3,
physician, at last, “he will not have ted; .
any material injury from this last exposure. "

Come gentlemen, if you will now ‘ tee and‘ k r
fiavahim in quiet, it will be all the _' for!» «~
m 7

The men withdrew, manye riencingaeehse r” ' a,
of relief at the prospect of T e Strangcfgie'  ’
covery—e—so fickle is popular sentiment. J “I v‘

The major, loth to leave the woman in whom. _
he hadconceivedsodee an interest, recollect: ,, . 3
ed The Stranger’s miniature, and would have ; ’
made it an excuse for again bringing himself 
under her notice; but, bethinking him. fliatit - ~'
would serve as an introduction at another‘fime p. 
when she wouldbe lam preoccu ied, be retained "
it in his possession and wi drew with the 
when 1 J fte b'fleavetak‘lng", ‘

auntess erry,a r a me 
with his sister, mounted his horse; 
Stranger was left to quiet and the care of theixjsf;
women. " ‘ I "-‘

As for The Stranger afterhis restoration to
consciousness he la into the 31 of’utter,
exhaustion. he di net know that thelab.
sence of the widow a gir ' figure knelt at his‘;
bedside, and, with her lips resting 
hand, offered up thanks to the giver 0 all good
for his deliverance out of the hands of bk one-r
nnes.

  

6-.

\.

 

 

CHAPTER XVI.
m smuena’s mm

11‘ was on the following evening, after
of dusk, that Dauntless J erly drew
fore the widow Robinson ‘ 
time to time and his voice Was_very . as
from cold taken from the previous night's ex-‘J‘ *-

“ How is your patient?” he asked at  f?
widow who received him with her placid Inns,
of mo erly hospitality. ,’ . ‘

“He is awake and doing finely. Camellia.
ugillnivianetchla ' ht immediately. V 4‘-  '

aun ess errycoul distinguish :
Strangng onthebed mthefprthercomr;
of the room. eapproached,say1ng: ’

“My friend, I am glad to-see you so‘ much

 

v

_‘s.

more leasantly situated than when we M“
met. ow are you feeling!” _ . A
The s 1- his extended hand, not,

however wi h his wanted strength, as he -
“ I am easy, thank you. This little 
amount to nothing. But you have '
ed and seem under the weather with scold.” ,,
2‘ It is nothing,” said Jerry. “We as I ex
pect these litte rubs. A ba 
water will remedy such slight son. he!
“I cannot for t that it was reached in u, I
‘J ould gm“ r‘ Widget '  V
‘ MW in so e in a » '
worthy cause ” said  r, somewhat shyly

   

  

“Ia.m sure t he would a’dly
pamor danger in our «
‘ “Youare mostyheettfly come; ‘
firm“ '" "3’ '

i  z

 
  

  

.zll

     
 

 

* . . a. ’ h , 1‘ 4‘,.. ' 'v\ . .QH.

The New York Library. Vol. I. - ‘ ,
L . But The Stranger seemed not to heed him. Thus began the long, sweet da 5, when her “All about me?” he smiled. “All that 'lies -~n
’ is eyes were fixed upon the maiden, the ex- hand adjusted the curtain so the the mellow within the space of a fortnight, while I have

   

 

 

1

H

pression of whoSe face was hidden by the chur- sunshine was most pleasing, and her gentle been on my good behavior, learning to love

ish darkness, et to whose emotions he had  touch arranged the pillows in the eaSiest p051- 3 you.”

some index in the poise of her head, outlined be- ,’ tion. When his brow throbbed with fever, her a “ I didn‘t have to learn to love you!” she said,
_ ._ _‘ ' tween his e e and the window. , cool palm charmed the pain away. When every 1 with a pretty, re roachful pout.
‘4. ' I “ I have ut just dro ped inupon you in pass— nerve twitched with restlessness her low veice i He laughed an kissed her.
I» ‘f ' ing,” added J err . “ must take my departure wooed refreshing slumber. I Un er such gentle j “ Will you be satisfied if I tell you that it has
i, ' Mthout delay. hut I leave you the care of my , ministrations, a much less Vigorous constitution j been the sweetest lesson of my life?” he asked.
2'; .. ‘ , sister, which will doubtless amply repay you for 1‘ than his must have in idly repaired the damage  “ But how can ou know so much of me?”
3:: v i the loss of myself.” ; of that unhappy bul et. And so he grew con- ; “ My life has ed metebeobservant of all men.
;’ " , , “ I owe you much for your deeds of valor in I valescent; and as he satbolstered up amen the i It has tau rht me that the character of a man is
 ~ [my defense, and more for the procurement of illows and had her waiting upon every w im,  a suflicien guaranty for his life; but how often

so sweet a nurse,” said The Stran er. “ But i . e thou ht that he would be content to remain, ; is his life a true index tohis character? I might
, a how can I consent to tax Miss Iola With the care 3 Invalid orever, if only to have her always near ?

, 9-7 ~ of a strangerg” him. . . _ takin me on trust?”

I 4 “My brother’s friends are my friends,” said V Major Gravesend was a daily v1s1tor ostensi- “ o, Iola. I think we are about quits in this

_ . “ the girl; “and you can show your regard for us ; bly to inquire after. the health of The tranger, ‘ matter. I have seen enough of you to know

 , f in no way better than by commanding us and “ or whom Dr. Chillingworth had conceived a . that you are incapable of wrong-doing; and as

answer you by asking, do not you risk more in

 

  
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
   
  
   
    
   
    
   
  
    
   
 
  
   
    
    
   
  
     
 
  
 
   
   
  

everything we have.” fraternal regard.” But_ when he had gon , for incompatibility of temper, there is no reason
- The Stra r felt a delicious thrill whenever throu h with his regular inquiries after the sick i to fear that, is there?”
, she ' ke. n all his experience he had never man, 6 would Sit on the bench just outside the i “ No,” she lau bed, with a little hug. “But
he so musical a voice. He recognized the door, under the overhanging Vines, and talk to what lovers wou (1 ever admit such rank heresy *‘
cadences of Dauntless Jerry’s voice, only mel- Iola about her brother, while she sat sewing in p as that?”

lowed by an infinite sweetness. the doorway. : “ Iola,” said The Stranger, more earnestly, “ I
“Heart and soul for our friends, as against Again and again The Stran er’s jealous eye ‘ shall present] 'ask youtobemy wife; but before
‘our “enemies,” said Jerry. “Everything we < noted the expression with whic the major re— I do so, I sha tell you the story of m life, so
~ Bomess'is yours; and we shall be to you as a Ended the girl, when she wasnot looking at i that you may make your decision in fu lview of

. ' rother and sister." in. He was evidently studying her and— . all the circumstances.”

 

But The Stranger scarcely heard him. His something morel As for Iola, her manner  l “I_ am already yours,” she said, hiding her
soul, was still echoing with the music of that tra ed friendly interest in the courteous major , face in his breast. “What is the use of making
. other voice. Longing to hear it, again, be ex— —-t t was all.  my dec1sion seem to de nd upon anything you
i ' j tended his hand, and said: Then The Stran er began to observe her con- . may tell me of yoursel , when nothin on will
‘~ “Miss Iola, how can I thank you? May I , duct toward himse f. I sa , will change it a hair’s breadth? on may
have the proud distinction of classing myself 1 Several times when he had taken her hand, 5 to 1 me what you please afterwards, and r ui're
 your friends?” I she flushed to the temples and hastily withdrew E anythin , everything of me; but I want to ind
Q ‘ .’: She [need her Md frankly in his; and he i it, giving his pillows a touch, or some sli ht at- ; myself .”
the that he could detect a. sli ht tremulous- tention of that sort, with an evident e ort to ‘ I require nothing of you, Iola. But it is only £
nose the member, as she repli : appear as if she did not notice what he had right that my future wife should make her ‘
, , “ Will you?” done. Gradually there cameinto her manner a choice—”
1‘" Her veice was low. Something in it thrilled coy constraint; and she who lookedevery other “After she has scanned you from head to foot
I;  His fingers closed firmly over hers, as he man squarely in the eye, avoided his glance as with the green goggles of suspicion, in search of
- said earnestly: , much as possible. some flaw while on exercise the magnanimit '
“’W’hile God gives me life!” One day they had sat thus until the major of takin her wit iont question! A man is ai-
' In sudden trepidation she withdrew her hand. took a reluctant leave. Mrs. binson was busy ways sefiish, even in his generosity. I’ll prove

“ we are making you talk too much, sir,” she  with her washing at the back of the house, so to
~ 'hnid. “Ba—or Jerry, you had better go, new, : that they were safe from disturbance for an i an
and we will have it quiet.” hour. Then, as love is full of wiles, The Stranger to

you that I can be as niagnanimous as you,
i, ' "ing you force me to it, promise to

'Her'brother laughed. said in a tone whose nervousness was all simu- She hesitated in confusion, fain to hide her
‘ “You see I make her call me Jog, after my lated: _ blushing face a ain; but rally' , under the
_ new christening,” he said. “ -byl You “ Isn’t there a slight draught from that door?” spur of his laug ' g eyes, drew erself erect,
*5. ma. not see me again for a week or two.” ‘f Is there? . How careless of me not to think and with the self-assertive art of her nature
’ ’ e- ‘ eased The Stranger’s hand again, kissed , of it!” she said, and arose instantly and closed flashing in her eyes, went on ravely:
.. dag; affectionately, and turned to go just : the door. . “I promise to be your wife eVen before you
Q m Mrs. Robinson appeared with a tallow 'p in l “ How lon before your brother Will be to see ask it!” “VI—I"
. he” M , me again? t me see, he has only been here “ Oh, no you don’t!” he replied, laughing. “ I
, . When he was gone, Iola improvised a screen once since he brought you.” . asked you half an hour ago, and your first reply
fiwith her shawl, and set the candle behind it, so . “ He is very bus , you know,” she replied, was: ‘Oh, let me go! let me go!’ ’

4 that the light might not shine in the face of the bending closer over or work, and flushing pain- _ He thought he had her there, and was laugh-
, . .jsickinan. Then she bathed The Stranger face fully}. _ ing at having puzzled her for a reply. A mo-
‘, a’ndhands in slightly camphorated water, and “ o be sure. But come sit down here and ment she gazed into his face, her eyes sparkling
 beat ' his pillows afresh. Her skillful touch talk to me, won’t you? I’m tired to death.” with mischief' and then with cheeks like roses

_ to impart a new lightness to them. He spoke with the nervous impatience of a and head a litt e to one side, she asked:
“Isgthere  more I can do to make sick man, and turned wearin on the illow, “But, did Itry to get away?”
‘you comfortab e ” s

' e asked, when she had with closed eyes anda slight frown on his rows. At that he lau bed so loudly that Mrs. Robin-
 / bed out and neatly tucked in the counter— She did  as hekexgected she would do. :3: left her wafinn' g to come in and share the
' ' e or wor , s e

 

pane. a ‘, Puttingasi _ste dtothe bed- . ,
4116107“, to have her near him; and as an ex— side and bet“n ‘10 “dim his P 0‘" more com‘ “ A“ 3’0“ young people gang to have an the
_ I . he : “may _ I sport to yourselves?” she asked, sitting down
y {trouble you for some water?” Then his deep-laid scheme transpired! No just within the door to rest a while, as much re-

I‘“§,.qught ‘to have thought of that,” she said, sooner had she bent over him than the rogue freshed by the sight of their cheerful faces as by
, With I smile. slipped an arm about her waist, and suddenly the cessation from labor.
‘ She turned to the little Chintz-covered stand, opened his eyes full upon hers, with a look as No sooner had her finger sounded upon the
 like an hour-glam, at the head of the calm, as stead as if he had never seen a day’s latch, than Iola slipped from the side of her
*4 ' .  it stood h'm medicine in cups, and a tin illness in his 6. _ lover, and dropping into the rocker engaged her-
' chontaining water. Iola, took up the dip- Taken completely unawares the girl uttered a self with her work. She now look up demure]
’ ,and left the room. The Stranger watched tremulous little cry and  back, crimson from her occupation of icking out a stitohwi
fiche went, admiring the easg grace of her to the tips of the ears. But it seemed as if her the nicest of care, an told a comical stor
', .- Presently she returned wit a. refreshing strength suddenly deserted her- and With the which made the innocent old lady laugh 
.3. just’from the well. hand that rested upon his shoulder not offerin the tears started in her eyes.
- - arm under his neck, she raised the resistance of a child, she stood trembling am As for The Strangflr, this new phase of his .
' , dad held the dip r to hiin . panting: ‘ lady love’s nature tic ed him mi rhtily. /
and as e si ped t 9 “Oh! let me go! let me gel" ‘ What a sly puss you are?“ e said, when
hthers wi a. look He laughed, the first hapgiy laugh she had Mrs. Robinson had returned refreshed, to her
cheehs and made heard from his lips. Not t at there was an - work, leaving them again alone. “You have
W arm tremble. thing icular to laugh at; but that was t 10 roved yourself so much the better story-teller,
The Stranger, the selfish rogue was a wayt 9 great thrill of ecstas that ran through that I am almost ashamed to begin ” , d... N
and

 
 
 

 

      
 

     
     
   
  
 
   

  

       
   
   
  
  
      
     

 a very little, never his frame expressed itself. n he breathed “You shall not begin now. You have had
.w or it made her arm ache to hol her name, dwelling 11 its melodious vowels excitement enough for the present. First a
' bud;  she 1settled Mngoback 23 iii}: xigh a lingering ten erness that could have gigod lo nap;land Ittheifi 3716 will list to your
w dwi rew erarm, turn 11 onesgniflcance. ryn eearypa o iseveni ,
' t the 1m of her band brushed his “ Iola!” . She apgoached to rearrange his lows, in a
henskefiortoread to him, sothat he Her heart leadped at the sound. Her eyes quiet, au oritative we. pec iarto er; and he
hervoiceagain; andwhilesheswa ed swamin a humi languor. Asiffascinated, she ielding, was soon eep, while she watch
the widow Robinson’s roc r, saw only his eyes and his woomg smile. Un- m, as she had done a hundred times before,
t half-closed eyes. He consciously she_ elded to the persuasive clasp with a worshiping tenderness in her 0 as; only
graceful, undulating form. outlined of his arms, un she rested, almost fainting, on now pzcoud consciousness of possession taken
' simple drm‘bl'l‘hen he studied her his breast, and felt the throbbing of his heart, the p e of the shy longing that had been there
 a strange

of the gentle and his warm breath on her cheek. before.

   
  
   
  

  

 

    
    
    

 She had a cot little rose- Their love sought no 6 'on in words. But
‘ ' ‘I mfi'm sensitive 811% IWfiet thaithhe the balogia whose frtciienafigirt hzfid rlir‘egnmllittle CHAPTER XVII.
» to ' thedewfrom er . 0 our econveno 'eso a ic' so-
on. " " vividI with the white beneatli: ciety,letiier arms glide about his neck, as was AN Immmn STORY-
:fihat‘ ' ' (if; ‘ in the act of ar— most natural that she should, and clasped him Wm“ The Stranger slept, Iola prepared to
, : But he t those lips could set closer and closer until their lips met. make her dail visit to her own home, to look

4 sesme As fox-hem eyes, they were an Thus lip to lip the drank in the first incense after Mad Ka {she had to pass the hotel; and .
marvel. w th every of mutual love, an when they were calmer, from his window Dr. Chillingworth chanced to

.m... , they now melted wi tenderness and still holding her thus, he asked: see her. Entranced, he stared at her until she

" killed with tion; now dreamy in‘ “Iola, do you know all that you are giving from View by the corner of the house.

   
 

    
 
  
 
 
  

   

‘, .m reverie anon e kled with viva— me? Can you trust me?” e had but an imperfect view of'her face; but
, Winters“. lint in all bases one domi- “ Utterly,” she replied, her eyes glistening like her form, her heaping, everything awakened ‘.
’  orpressionprevailed—tru humid diamonds. memories that sent the bleed thril ng t h .

constanc .
- , M. 80’ the real merged into the fantasyyof a “And yet you know nothing of me—not even his veins; and trembling with excitement,
' * ... .and be thought her an angel, rivaling my name.” turned to his faithful friend, Major Gravese d.
_ , the gliding - ‘What matters your namol, For the rest, I “Your mentor—quick! My God! 
knowallaboutyon.” ' ' has just ‘ the otel. I enroll! insho-
J. 'o*-~ "_ u /v ' V ‘ ." ' , ', ‘ I. \l A V, ' 5 
. u ‘\,/,‘ ' , ' ‘ v’ y. a. I I I ’ I‘y.“ -> IN~H4

 

 

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t L ¢._.-

 

No.1.

I
it must- he! liet- ns lose notiine. (irent Heaven! ‘
if after all these yea " "

“ \Vhat do you say.”
major, eagerly.

“ Come on! You shall see!"

They deseended the stairs as rapidly as the
vet feeble state of the doctor Would permit. and .
hastened into the street. lint looking; either
way, no woman was in sight.

\Vho is it!" asked the i

A" - ‘
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A 100k 01’ (-hugrin took the phiee of eager ex- ‘

l’ecm'm-ZV on the, doctor’s fat-e. He hrnshed his
h1ndaerosshistorehend. and turned to hisfriend.

“Could it haVe been a delusion!" he asked.
ilusliiiu‘.
times; but there was ulwa vs some one then who
bOI‘O a elmneu resemblanve. Have I acted
stmnjjt if: inen‘ my wound!"

“I have. been deceived a thousand ‘

l

I

A Hard Crowd; or. Gentleman Sam’s Sister.

:3

17

.
And he rubbed his hand across the sear on the ' steps of an old man. and threw himself on the

side, of his head.

“ Nonsense. ()hillingworth !" replied themajor. »
. Let us in- ,
‘ quire of the landlord. Mr. Harris, did a lady

“ This little brush did you no hurt.

pass here, within two minutes!"
“I reekon not, sir," replied the landord.

takingr his pipe from his mouth toexpeetorate, 1 he recalled
l and letting; his chair come down upon four legs. I Dauntless Jerry; and it ocenrred to him that

2m .  ~ 4*

I
2.4.1),

in!

\\<‘ *
\ \- -
\ ~\\\\\\\\\~ \\

" You have been right here in the doorwnv,
so that no one could pass without Veur seeing
them 3" i

‘- For the last half-hour, sir."

“ Let us go back.” said the doctor, letting his
head sink upon his breast dejectedly.

Major Gravesend gave his arm. and the doctor 1

ascended to his room again with the tottering

f l)(‘l

the major left him and went down stairs.
the window of the liar. he Saw Iola urine out of
a side door or the huh I, and pa» along. the
front. on her way down the street.

I rection.

in heart-siek despomlene)’.
After a few vain attempts to cheer his i'ric nd.
l’rom

Like a flash

In: (‘hillingworth‘s interest in

’ Iola might have entered the hotelwithout being _

seen by the landlord. his back b01113” in that di-
“Hallo, Jack!" he said, to the barkeeper.‘
“ Did you see that lmly~1mss, when She filtered

the hotel .7”

“ What—Gentleman Sam‘s sister ?”
“ Yes. How lomr ago did she enter?"

.943.

 

18'

, The New York Library.

t f ... ,‘

-v.-

 

 

9‘,‘

“ Five minutes, I reckon.”
“ And she came from up the street?”
, “ She didn’t come from anywhere else.”
b The major disappeared like a. flash.
’ A - _ “You were not deceived!” he cried, burstin
., ' into his friend's room. “ It was a woman, an
1 ' . she entered the hotel at the side door, instead of
passinrr in front of it.”
. r “ W at do you say?” cried the doctor, now
21‘ ‘ all animation.
' “ It was Dauntless Jerry’s sister—the little

. " fellow, ou know who helped us out of the Oc-
' cidentei: that night.” .

f ' f I The doctor’s face fell.
 5 ~ “His sister,” he repeated.
like him, I presume?”

 

“And she looks

  
    
   
 
    
  
  
   
    
 
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    
     
 
    
   
    
 
   
    
    
    
    
   
   
      
        
   
   
    
   
     
 

‘A chance resemblance,” said the doetor,
turning again to the wall.

“The are twins, I should say,” replied the
ms. or, coking a little surprised,

' he doctor did not explain that the chance
I resemblance was between
v . . , sister‘and the face that haunted his life.
' “.You must see her; at an rate. Will you
. gowithme to-morrow?’ asked ajor Gravesend.
- Dr. Chillingworth was heart-sick with disap-
and without turning his head, re-
' H .. ' '

’ '1 ' Hy‘thing‘.”
, Héanw ‘ . Iola on to her isolated
1' home.  Wm door byawoman

, v whose ' yet bore traces of early beauty.
,\ "‘0 10! how I have lon for you!” she
« - brie V r eyes suffused with .
v I .“ is the matter aunty? Are you sick?”

, ,1  an den anxiety.
' “Sicki—sic l" repeated the woman, with a
.. sad shakeof thehead. “Ay, I havebeensick
. these thirty years—sick at heart!” ~
 {‘But ounrelookin !”
i ‘ girl p her carefull in a c .
t a moment wi closed 0 es,
I ~ v the oozing lewly between the lids, w ile
,the young girl h over her with afl'ectionate
. ,3 solicittlde. Sudde she opened her eyes, and
‘ '  girl’s head upon her bosom, said:
1, I “Iran‘ve you given up looking tor my boy?
I.  Hag” Stranger weaned your heart from

me -
' ‘ Aswift flush sufl‘used the girl’s cheeks, and
sheavould have averted herfaCC' but the woman
= took it between her hands, and held her so that
" -. she could an searchineg into her eyes. Then
T , Iola’s not independence exerted itself, and
5 t, \ she paid her interrogator glance fog-fiance. A
I .l -. ,  thus, and the woman push her away

if ,‘EI  iti” she  “You love him~this
,. {steam And this is my reward for ears of
love, I mifil‘ishave hated youas ecause

. ‘ of g y'wretc ness!”
’ ' “ Leanne of your wretchedness?”

t

' ‘- u! H “Ignite—you and your mother! You
am‘ us to me; 8nd

at I have given my
lite toyed-to cast me at the heck of the
«. 'grdrteolwli‘o flatten youwithpraises of your
’._  Over all the rest, that might have
.w her at another time, Iola sunkupon
{ he", ‘ beside the excited woman, and with
glands? ’ irxtoherarmmsked: ,
we 2‘"  ‘1 unty! what about my moth’e‘r’l
‘1  mm” $113131? your? ahnostreproach
. 1 ,  in , -
V figmofqnthatq voting ,senttheblood
Kate’s heart, lea her fairly
ith a shriek she lea from the
’away with outstretched,

. » I against the wall,
.wit hsrface-cove yher hands: “Oh God!
' ,. thishmy retribution!”
». ,- Still on herknees, Iolalookedoninmutsbe-
A  She had never seenmhanout-
bur-theta”.
an sud

the mood of her on c
,I 9
 I nl flaking upon  mm
gyingthe y rplexed girl mherarms, Mad
, 1‘10! Io! my darling; yfiu have been the one
. ' contort 'of my desoln e. I wronged you
 —.whenlaccqse . on of ingratitude; forI know
any: endow me tar than I deserve; and it is
‘ ’ pt natural that your young heart should ac-
! knowmge the randest law in God’s great
economy, wooed so noble a man as he who
, , 'Batmmyse haddedi-
5’, noted a to the search for my boy" and it cut
"mete hehesrt to think that yourhle hadnow
a purpose ”
ever kne —-

new .
p .“Aflflffl- . mothgriifor you  the only
, “ God's-aka! dou’tcallme mother!” cried
’ fit? 0mm, winclng as if stabbed.

, ola ga l at her in tearful rplexitya mo-
‘ent, In then resun‘md the thread of her ro-



' '3. that I would desert you new? 0' .
' us, he will hel n8. Oblif

g " me 0 me on

rm

ii I!
_.

Winter—ya.”

    

Dauntless Jerry’s I

  me], Oh, Heaven!”——with a pe

inhllfeyfihhe ’was from the
insect 

 

I """"*—‘— """‘ w‘fi

,,
; Mad Kate made no reply, but hugged the 'rl
é close to her bosom, weeping hysterically on er
! shoulder.
I man would bring but little enthusiasm to such a
‘ wild cgoose chase as that in which they were on-
a e .
. g s her excitement subsided, her strength
waned, and Iola saw, what she had forgotten,
that the woman was really sick. Hastil she
mut her on the bed; and presently Mad ’atc
gan to mutter the incoherent thoughts that
swe t across her shattered mind.
ith eager longing Iola caught every word
that fell from her lips; but Mad Kate’s secret
was never more sectu'ely
breast than durin her seasons of insanity.

“As much as two peas. Only her hair is z The burden of her k was about her boy; and
light while his is jet black.” . she took a miniature from her bosom, and kissed
t

it, and talked to it.
It was sundown before she was quiet, so that

demanded her care more than did her lover.

“ I must go and tell him that I am with you,
or he will worry at my absence,” she explained;
and her cheeks were red as roses at the thought
that she was now linked to another, and that
henceforth the welfare of each must be the.con-
stunt care ’of the other. How many maids or
matrons benedicts or bachelors reflect on the
responsibility incurred, when one human soul is
invested with the power to shape, at least in a
degree, the destinies of another hhman soul for
all eternity!

When she reached the widow Robinson’s
cabin, it was already dark, and the light within
showed through the white curtain that covers?
the window. Her heart was in her mout ,
while she paused a moment on the doorstep,
with her thumb on the latch. Another instant
and she should see him—him! Yesterday it had
meant the heaven of her dreams; to-day it was
a, reality whose sweet blamedanth dowu
about her like a warm tropical wind, freighted
with the aroma of a thousand incense—breath-

in lants!
ifistue‘gin , she heard the inner door close. It

was . binson either going from or enter-
ivxgg the mom. Scarcer owning to herself the

sh that it was the former, she raised the latch
and entered. ‘ . v , _

What man cannot plotto secure‘hlsownhap—
piness? The Stranger had heard Iola’s , and
sent the unsus ting widow for some wa r, so
that he mighgelfave all to himself the first mo-
ment of the approach of his new—found love.
He was sitting in an easy-chair awaiting her re-
turn with a happy smile.

And now the (girl stood with her back against
the dbor she be just entered, and her eyes fixed
inquirineg upon his face, her heart aflutter and
her face aflamc with my ex ‘ctancy. She
never moved until he held ou his arms to her
with his rare smile. T hon, like the swoop of a
swallow, she glided across the room. to nestle
m‘yfiéllrlbagain ' I l l” h hispend

. , my own 0 a e w ;
“ but not until I am almost famished for your
presence!”

“Back again for an hour; and then must re-
turn to Aunt Kate. She is quite unwell.”

“But, can’t your brother, Jerry. take care of
her?” asked The Stranger, with a lover’s and
an invalid‘s selfishness. I '

Iola flushed- suddenly. ‘ For one instant her
eyes fell, and then rose again, full of roguish
laughter and defl .

‘ lips. “He’d

A man!” she cried, with our
$2511, with her lips close to his ear she whis—

make a pre nurse—wouldn’t be

“You innocent! I’ve got a secret for you;
but not now 1”

And at the sound of Mrs. Robinson’s return-
at; step, she sli from him and commenced

king 03 her th n .

“ 1 m glad you’ve come, Iola,” said the excel-
lent widow. “ Now I can get mv ironing out of
the way. Our sick Wouldn’t let me from
his side a minute, after waked u .”

And with a pleasant smile she 1e them.

“ And now or the story,” said The Stranger.
“To be with. the name by which on have
thus far own me—‘ The Stranger’— as like-
ly to be my true name as any Iever had, within
my recollection. M infancy and early child-
hood werespentin ecareof anIrishwoman,
who always treated me with kindnem, after her
way of looking at things. That is to say while
she was by no means slowt0wrath, , ewas
never really cruel. But her husband was a
brute, and she could not rotect mefromhis
drunken fury. These gap e called me Patsy.
They never pretended confer u n me their
surname, which was Durke nor d they make
any secret of the fact that I was in no way re-
lated to them, and the name Patsy was one of
their own selecting.

“Who m real rents were, they knew no
more than ( id I. Vhile I was yet a baby, a
strange woman had been found by Tom Burke
in a snow-drift, and brought into his shanty.
She lived long enoughmto tell Mrs. Burke that

th. and to charge her
hich Maggi-and the

 

tomwrvethew.

. ‘ a \-  a» ‘ ".1

l
I

i‘ child she tried to answer, but death cut her off.

Perhaps she felt that the ordinary I

“ rs. Burke inferred that the woman was

, not my mother, since she was very ordinal
, appearin ,while some of my clothes gave ev1-

' sharp eyes can do

locked within her Own 1 _
" she snatched it from his hand with a cry of

!

dence o wealth. Moreover, she bore no re-
semblance whatever to the miniature.

“ I have sometimes fancied that I could trace
a resemblance between myself and the minia-
ture. which would seem to confirm Mm. Burke’s
theory. Here is the icturc. Let us see if your
a likeness. "

He handed Iola the miniature which had so
dee lv affected Dr. Chillingworth. No sooner
hadp Iola caught sight of the gold setting, than

rprise.
“?Is this the picture—of your mother, do you

.“ I have always hoped so, but Why are you so

Iola could leave her; and then she romised to 1 excited?”
return again that night, since Mar Kate now ,

“ Oh! is it

iblci Can it he?” cries the girl,
not heeding

is question, but gazing upon the

- miniature with devouring intensity, than read—

 

“Oh! it must be
Oh, my darling; I will give
orace! Hor-

ing every line of his face.
true! It is true!
you a name, and the true one!
ace! Dear, dear Horace!”

And with a jo ous ripplile of laughter and love.
she cast horse -upon '3 breast and clasped
him about the neck.

“Iola, what in the world—” he began, in be-
wilderment; but at that instant there was a
knock at the door.

Blushing, yet radiant. Iola flew to o n it.
Dr. Chillingworth and Major Gravesen stood
on the threshold.

CHAPTER XVIII.
ma TWENTY YEARS.

THE thin sickle of the moon had followed the
sun beneath the western horizon, leaving the
stars twinkling on a purple background which
gradually deepened into the deepest blue. As
Vet the young city had not arriVed at the gas-
light stage of development, nor Was the re—
nighted wayfarer lighted bv the old-fashioned
sconce. The darkness of the street was only

. partially dispelled here and there by the light

which strugg led throu h the dusty. fly-spooked
window of some cor-neg grocery. or the equally
, half-cumined window of some saloon.
m the dimly-lighted portal of the princi-
pal hotel two men issue, arm in arm, and begin
to pick their way down the gloomy street. As
they pause for a moment, in the ight from a
window, the lower half of which is screened by
a red curtain, while the upper half bears the in-
scription, in fanciful letters:
OCCIDENTAL SALOON,
we may observe them.

- In the young: man, of decided military port,
we recognize jor Gravesend. He affords the
support of his arm to his companion, who bears
marked traces of recent illness in the pallqr of
his face and in the lack of vigor in a frame evi-
dently com t to great endurance when in a
state of he th.

But, what is more painful, we remark the
settled look of melancholy, betokening a great
life-sorrow, which is deeper, if possible, on

Cbillingworth’

Dr. 8 face than when we last
sawhim. .

Glancing in at the saloon window, he re-
-marks°

“All. traces of the struggle are repaired,
Gravcsend.”

“ch, doctor,”‘is the reply. “That is the
way of the world. More than anywhere else,
in this Western country to-day’s butchery is
followed by to-morrow’s renewal of the revelry.
A duel here  which one or both of the par-
ties arc ' , causes little more excitement
than a d alight in an Eastern city.”

“ Howog The Sty-afier’s wound 1”

“Healed nicely. e is almost as smart as
yourself. He has been up and out of doors two
or three times.”

“ And, major, you have never yet learned his

name

“No. He is as close as an oyster in that mat-
ter. He has never volunteered any informa—
tion; and no one has presumed to question him.
But, what’s in a name? You would know no
more of him if he were to tell you his name was
John Smith or William Jones. They recognize
that fact in this delectable country, where no—
body flaunts his lineage, and every one chooses
a ‘handle’ to suit himself. As .Dr. Chilling~
worth, you gee almost unnoticed; but call

ourself 'ppi Matt, and you would soon
{a a I celebrity.” .
“N a very desirable notoriety, I fancy,”

replied the doctor, with some disgust.
‘Tastes differ!” was the laughing response.
“There is something very remarkable about
this man,” pursued Dr. Chillingworth, reflec-
tively. “I cannot help being prepossessed in
his favor; and yet there are expressions of his
face that make me shrink .from him with some-
thing like !oathi g—I don’t know whether it is
disgust or ” '
“His frown isn’t the mildest spectacle in the‘

world, haunt you,” replied the major, wi a

\ i

'P it: '3'

ll Vol 

1 When Mrs. Burke asked the woman if I was her

 

_ $-

      
  

        
 

'No. 1.

i

"'\

A Hard Crowd; er, Gentleman Sam’s Sister.

 

Dr. Chillingworth walked on in silence. A
gloomy fr0wn contracted his brows. He was
usy with the past.
Presently he spoke again.
“ And this girl—you call her—”
“Iola.”
“And the surname?”
“She seems troubled with nothing so non-es
sentia! to Western happiness. You saw how
readily her brother shifted his name from Gen-

tleman Sam to Dauntless Jerry. An exploit, all these years! Oh! Maud! Maud! look down ‘ One breathless instant of inactivi , andthen \

or a mare whim, is sufficient to give a man a ‘ upon her and bless her! she is all eVen thy heart _Dr. Chillingworth leaped through c doorway ‘
new designation, where the inheritance of prep- ? could ask! My child! my child! Oh! Oh! in pursuit, crying};I . , “‘ ‘
erty calls for little tracing of genealogical ' Oh!” . “After them! yGod! the d _ yer of my g
trees. Close tohis heart he pressed her, mining tears life has robbed me of my Chlld again ” ' ’

Again was the doctor silent and a more pain-
ful stoop came into his shoulders. But as they
advanced he seemed to revive. A nervous
eagerness quickened his step; and unconsciously

he abandoned the support of his companions .

arm, walking erect with new vigor.

“The strangest feeling has come over me!”
said he, musingly. “It seems as if some crisis
were impending. Oh! if after all these years
of waiting I shoald triumph at last! Gravesend,
I have never made a confidant of you. It is
not that I lack evidences of our friendship;
but I have practiced reserve so ong, that I have
learned to shrink from a recital of the events
that have clouded my whole life. But whether
anything come of our present visit, or not, you
shall know all to morrow.”

“ Consult your own feelings, doctor,” re lied
his friend. “ \Vhenever you have anyt ing
to impart, you know that I will receive it as

our best friend. Meanwhile,
ouse.

“I am all of a tremble, now that a few me—

here is the

ments will decide everything. I have been dis- 5

ap inted so often!"
the window curtain.
stood framed in the doorway, with the light
falling full upon her. She stood inclining slight-
ly forward, her figure poised with her own
uliar grace, her cheeks tinged with a faint
lush, at recollection of the posrtion from which
the knock had startled her. Her eyes were
ring curiously into the darkness, and her
'ps parted by a welcoming smile.

The major started, and said to his heart that
he had never seen her looking half as lovely.
But there was another more deeply affected
than he. Dr. Chillingworth brushed by him,
exclaiming:

“Great God! it is she! Thank Heaven! my
dau hter, after all these years!”

6 s rung across the threshold and would
have c asped her in his arms. ut, with the
agility of a startled fawn she leaped barkward,
and to his amazement and dismay brought a
pistol to bear full in his face. She uttered no
cry, as might have been ex cted from one of
her sex- but her cheek h grown suddenly
pale. The tender light of her eye too, had
given place to the flash of command. All the
pliancK had gone out of her carriage; and she
stood 'ke an amazon, every muscle tense, every
sense on the alert.

Starting forward, and extending his hand
toward a table on which lay a pistol, The
St r demanded, sternly:

“ hat is the meaning of this?”

But the next moment he caught sight of the
ma'or; and his frown relaxed into a smile of
(to com: IAt tge sameh instant Iola’s arm

0 pe to ersi e,andt e istol disa ared
in the folds of her dress. p ppe

“I be your pardon, sir,” she said to the doc-
tor. “ at in this country we have to be re-
pared for all sorts of visitors; and your su den
entrance startled me. Major Gravesend you
are welcome. Pray be seated, gentlemen”

The major presented his friend to Iola—a
courtesy she acknowledged with rare grace.

As for the doctor, so absorbed was e that he
scarce! knew that he was being introduced to
thedgir ; but, taking her hand mechanically, he
m1 0

“I beg your pardon, my child, for my pre-
cipitancy. You will accord it freely when you
know the ca But—do not think it an idle
question—who are you ?”

In his eagerness, he gazed earnestly, almost
pleadineg into her eyes.

Without a parent reason Iola flushed to the
tem les, as s e replied:

“ am Dauntless Je ‘s or, as most people
say), Gentleman Sam’s sis r.”

- r. Chillingworth’s eyes grew humid and his
face took on a look of despondency, as he gazed
yet more earnestly in her face. ‘

“Can I be deceived? So like! so like!” mur-
mured his tremulous lips.

 

1 by Iola’s up
: life.
‘ brother—for such he

i as mute as was the ma'or.
' he major knocked. A shadow flitted across ; the repudiation of her

! “ No! no!” cried the girl, with thrilling energy.
“I have no brother! never had one so far as
‘ I know! But, what of it? Do you know me?

tell me that! if you can tell me that!
Who am 1?”

, “My daughter!
4

1

Speak !

My daughter!” again cried
the doctor, clasping her to his heart; and with
streaming eyes raised to Heaven added: “ Great
God, I thank thee! After all these years! after

and kisses upon lips, cheek, brow and hair, his
voice broken into cadences of melting tender—
, ness. And she—who shall so. what subtle in-
, stinct quickened her heart wit lovei—clung to
him, and, with a strange feeling of terror ming—
ling with a dizzy sense of joy and longing,
breathed the wor :

“FATHER!”

The amazement of The Stranger and Major
Gravesend can better be imagined than de-
scribed. The latter had caught the candle out
of Iola’s hands, just as she was clasped in the
arms of him who called her his daughter; and
‘, he now stood gazing at them in mute wonder.
‘ He was in a measure prepared for the announce

daughter, for he had reflected on the strange
manner in which his friend had been affected

i ment of relationship between the father and
!

cc, and on words which he
. had droppe touching the great sorrow of his
But, that the iierl should deny her twin
_ lieved Jerry to be—was

to him inexplicable.
As for The Stranger, he sat as perplexed and
But his wonder at
rother was merged in

The next instant Iola , another and deeper feeling.
1 He saw his betrothed wife who ten minutes

before was a poor and fricndless girl, now the
acknowledged dau hter of a man whose social
rank, as manifes in look and bearing was
unmrstakable. ‘Would she cast him asrde, as
she had her brother? He felt a sharp in in
his heart, keencr than any the bullet ha occa-
sioned, and the color faded from his compressed
lips, when he saw Dr. Chillin 01th straighten
up, and, with his arm still a ut the weeping

10 a say:

“Friends, I claim your sympathy and con-
gratulation; for I have this night found my

aughter, who has been lost to me for nearly
twent ears—”

“ To all of which I bear testimony I”

All turned, and in the speaker discovered,
with a thrill a masked man, standing 'ust with-
in the threshold with a pistol in ert or hand,
aimed, one at The Stranger, the other at Iola.
At his back two other men also masked, cov-
, (taredl the major and Dr. Chillingworth respec-

1ve .

With ready presence of mind, Major Grave-
send dashed the candle to the floor and put his
foot on it. But at the same instant the window
was forced in; the light of a bull’s-eye flooded
the room more brilliantly than the candle had
done- and the muzzles of three revolvers flank-
ing t e lens of the lantern, showed that two
more rufllans were ready to support their chief.

“Steady there you little Spitfire!” cried he
who was evidently the principal of the ruifians
to Iola. “You can never draw that pistol
alive! The moment your hand disappears
Simopg the folds of your dr, that instant you

'e!’

Pale to the lips, Iola gazed at the man, her
ban in its errand after her trusty
weapon. She could see his dark eyes litter
through the holes in his mask, and she had card
his hard tones, which showed that he would not
hesitate to carry out his threat.

She heard The Stranger cry:

“ Offer no resistance, friends! They’ve got us
for this time!”

She knew that this was the wisest advice that
could be given, taught by her own ex rience.

Then she heard again the voice of t e chief:
! “ Men, shoot any one who raises a fin r!”

’ Hard upon the heels of his last word t 0 room
I rung with the blended reports of two pistols;
1 the glare of the bull’s-eye was turned fu!l u n
1 her face, completely dazzling her; and be ore
[ she had time for thought, she felt herself
I snatched from her father’s side and herarms
, drawn behind her and held y in the grasp
! of the powerful chief. \Vith trained dexterity

his hand next sought and found the pistol she
I carried. Taking advantage. of the moment
while one hand was thus engaged in di ess-
ing her of her weapon, she wrenched herself

 

For Heaven’s sake! who am I ? Oh! if you can ‘

  
  
  
  
  
    
 
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
    
   
    
  
    
    
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
   
  
     
  
 
   
     
 
   
   
       
   
 
      
 
   
    
   
    
     
  
    
   
  

..-._. __._i.._ ..-_.._ A.

f “Ha! ha! ha!” he laughed  and bound- . 
ed through the door, bearing er shriekingout I ’ i
into the ni ht. , 4‘, '_
One of t e rufiians had stoo and picked u ‘
the pistols his chief had fir into the aira  _ .."
‘ then thrown upon the floor, in order to take Iola '
unawares, and leaped through the doorway fl ‘
before his principal. At the same instant the ot
pistols disappeared from the window, though
, the bull’s-eye remained. ‘

But as he passed the doorway he was knocked _ 
senseless by the butt of a revolver; and before .-
the ma ‘or could issue from the house, there was ~ " ‘
a soun of horses’ boots in ra id retreat, blend-‘ . I
" ed with the mufiled cries of t e captive woman. ‘ ;

“Great God!" cried the major. “She is in " _,
the power of THE RED HAND !—my fr‘iend’s life- ‘ a
f 02, and the greatest fiend on the border! After
twent ears, he has found her only to lose her
agam' Vhat power can save her now!” .

 

CHAPTER XVIH.

THE RED HAND mm mm KATE. ., ,

IOLA’s screams were but themomentary tri- 
uinph of womanly weakness. VV its her favorite . f
weapon for a rotector, she feared no man; but 
once disarm , and in the grasp of a burly rufv‘ . ’
flan with whom her greatest stre h was Lat \ :3,"
infantile weakness, her terror, for 0 mo . vx c
was roportionately great. But, after that ‘ «

terri le consciousness of utter hel -emem‘\her,-g 5.1
self-possession returned again, an with i her #1}
native cunning. She ceased her screams and, 3.‘
affected the deepest despondenc , the while her ’ ~ I“
wits were on the alert, ready ' prove any .
adfi’antage chance w inlllier way. d 1‘ ~ ‘
ut her ca tcr was equa ywary' an when, .
they had rid en far enough to be beyond 
dan r of immediate pursuit he  
tLed er hands securely behind her bee   
Iola was surprised to see her captors turn into, fi’. 
A light shene’fy”

,the ~ 

I t.
a»

1

 

the 1' ath leading to her but. 
through the white curtain which fell bef re 3 W
window, partially i.luminating the  4
the door. The Red Hand stc pedalittle , a 7:.
back in the shadow with Iola, thle one of ,
men dismounted and knocked on the dot ‘ 
Eliciting no msgonse, he lifted the latch and: 
pushed open the oor. ", .- ,“ ,7
“ Hallo, gocd folks!" he shouted. I v .
Still no reply. i  i
“lf‘Iobody at home, I reckon,” hesaidtollis‘.
chie. , ‘ ;;_‘r-‘/I
“Go in and look round,” was the 
command. ‘ . f
The man entered; into the inner 
and discovered ' Kate sitting up in“,  ,7
pictuygetfif wild tlcit'lror.th h l Fed v' . :1
“iastarteoa eea back‘ 
the door; and then, seeing that it was 
woman, he laughed at his iright. v I I' ,;
“ Hyar’s a woman in hyar, what’s lett‘hd‘
cousin to the devil or the witch of 
reckon; an’ that’s the hull community," «hut

re ’ .’
The-ML

.- .

901310“; out the light,” commanded .
Hand; and to the others—“Men, W , ,
house, and lay out any one that you _ g 

skulking about.”
The cabin was shrouded indar
suance of hiscommand; an ' ' {My
robber chieftain bore his hefi‘
the house with him, and he
when he had entered.
“ A light!” he commanded. ‘ . ' 
A light was instantly struck. , u ‘ 4 ,,
Placing Iola in a chair, he kicked "  ,
door to the inner apartment. Mad  ‘" '
clutc ' the bed-c othes, with, the k“ *
. sanwity timing in he: T‘ifyegg,  .
“ oman, come on o ere. co ‘
TheRedHand, fro ' dark! . ’ ,f 
Iola was thrilled at sight of the effectual.
r lunatic. Her eycs became wdder, ' .'
h chattcred with terror, and'she
shrink within herself.  her;
with the fingers wide apart, as 
some terrible danger, she aspirated , a ,
“Horace! Horace! Horace!” ‘ 5).. ‘
“Come out of there, I say!"  ,
robber chief, with a fierce oath, and  ~ ‘-
his foot authoritatively. , ;.- ' I
The lunatic began to cringe and grove}, ,‘
ing iteouslly: -. 
‘I)on’ , oracel don’t! I never toidlji' ,_
told! Not-a word l—not a word, H ,7
The Red Hand tookastepacrossthe .
old, as if to drag her from the bott’figi
shriek, the mac cowered the ,

 
        
 
   
   
 
   
   
   
  
  
    
    
     

A sudden tre‘ idation seized Iola. Snatching 5 free, striki him in the face and teanng' awe.
\ the candle froni) the table, she held it close be- } his mask ng y

h fore her face her eyes flashing with an excite- : At this he only laughed; and the next instant
I ment that brought the color back into her ; his arms closed about heragain like steel bands,
Chgeks. and she felt herself lifted from the floor. Strug-

Look! Look!” she cried. “ Am I like any : gle as she might, she was werless.
one You ever knewt—years ago—say eighteen The chief now turned ' dark and bearded
,orjfwenty or them!” visage toward Dr. Chillingworth, who stood

And you say he is your brother—your own like one struck dumb. -
brother? cljled the doctor  in every “. Ha! ha! he!” he laughed. “You know me?
 In \

.  ‘ witheagu-mu, that couldh-rdl Seelsheisri now tom l”
’i '_ _. w .. . .  ,  Andheki$thehdpluygirlomaecheeh I

- A 5. ‘.a 3.1:"; .- 13‘ ’  4',
. I .Ix. .  ' ‘~ ‘- '$’ .,_.,‘.'_ _=.   . '

 
     
    
      
   
   
 
    
  
 
 
 

huddling the bed-clothes about her. ._ 1 I
“Oh! don’t! don’t! I will cable! you. Eat 
never told, Horacel—not a w ! not word:
I remembered the oath! Do  j
dam to break it? No, no! I never 
“ Come out here, instantly!” - :.
Hepulled thedoo’r to and began tenses _
room; and Iola oouldheerthewmmj '1
toher in smothers  i

\ f.

.~,
vii
.t,

 

  

   
  

y}.

 

 ' ' . " [The New

 

 
  
 

' AV: . busy with the stran e events which had been
'..- crowded into the half-hour. She had been
' claimed as a daug ter by the finest looking man

1*.» . arms by this dark-brewed ruf’fian.’ At what
former connection with her father did he hint
“ , p when he said:
.f' “ Now she is ripe for m revenge!”
ff ‘ She remembered, too, t at she had called to
f’“ her lover’s lips a fierce ejaculation of hatred b
' - a casual mention of the name of The Red Han .
And now, he was commanding Mad Kate and
F she was acknowledging him her master.
had she not told, from which she was inhibited
f e an oath? Iola’s heart leaped at recollection
0 Mad Kate’s strange hatred of her mother.
Tlfe one thing she had refused to tell her was of
that mother. Was this the secret between her
' andthe robber chief ? Iola was uick to arrive
at the conclusion that The Red

 
 
 
  
  
  
  
 
  
    
  
  
    
  
  
  
 
 
   
 
   
  
  
   
 
  
 
  
 
    
 
 
     
  
      

“3 her parents; but what had The Stran ‘er to do
- ginth it? He must have been a mere la at that
e.-
rupt'ed story of her lover. What was he about
e . p, to her? Had it any connection with her
ml; ear abduction? But it Was useless to multiply
questions where all was dark. She gave up the
e, to await the revelation of time; for the
001' of the inner room opened, and Mad Kate
sunk u her knees on the threshold.
: ‘.‘. u !” commanded The Red Hand, im-
-, patientl . “ I’m not going to hurt you!”
 ., Still earful the woman complied, and stood
, . before him trembling, like a culprit awaiting
 sentence.
“ Isthis thechild?” demanded The Red Hand,
~ pointlngto Iola. V
' » ' “Yes! yes!” replied Kate, with nervous pre—
,' We . I
 ‘H’m’l, It is needless to ask you; her face
‘ ' ‘ dauldnever be mistaken—a glorious face, more
rarely beautiful than was even her mother’s!”
.~* .. .‘He’c’oat u n Iola a gloating look, that caused
 ,  ml or in spite of herself; for she would
.' ' 1t.
. here did you pick her up?” asked The Red
:Hand, as a mattefo curiosity.
;.‘;“‘I saw her and knew her when her father
« ,1- was deceived,” replied Mad Kate. “I searched
eufliem. out afterwards, and persuaded them to
deceive me among them. I made no effort to
_ I’M, ,a. restoration to her parent—her mother
““ “  within an hour after ou last saw her. I
‘ I remembered m cat , and took no step
‘ defeat your ends. ut I could not leave her

 npin such vile company. When I had
I

(I
'6

y any emotion before him, if she could

stre h, which came of our out-door
, and w e she was yet an infant, I ran
wayflwith her, and have.never seen them

;' KM Was defeating my aims, in part ” re—
 Bed Hand; ‘ but I forgive you reely
,m you have made my revenge all the
‘ ' Before and men! she is a
Ha ha! how would my

   
   
   
   
  
       
        

7 women!

   
 
  
 
  
  
 
  
 
   
  
 
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
  
 
 
  
   
  
   
   
  
  

3‘.  ‘ duly feel, to know that I her
- , more beautiful—ye $218! a thousand
. ', she, even at her st! Revenge!
" ! Hal ha! Revenge!”

 before Iola. he took her by either
; H l and bent to kiss her on the ips. A
" ‘ she struggled frantically, shudderin

_ 7 thing her involunta scream drown
1,, , brutal laugh. Boun as she was, she
,' herself helpless in his grasp; and with his
 foul with the fumes of alcohol on her
m,m was driven to desperation. ’VVith a
IN]! she caught his nether lip between

V and bit wit all her mi ht.

“ withlpein and rage, he Red Hand
. throat so fiercely that she involun-
her hold upon is lip, gasping for
-‘  n , tlyhereleasedher.
‘f ffXGu, devil’s fuzz!” he cried, “ I mustn’t mar
f ._,bea.uty, thong I fear on have made in-
' ” upon mine. But I tame you—never

,4  could make no re 1y. She sat with
7 gf wee ing, but 0 strangulation, in
elite g repeatedly to ease the pain

,.
‘...
l.

3*!

, sw
‘ gamut, where his iron grip seemed almost
_. " crushed the trachea.

“eqth showed the marks of his fingers, in

, I t have  been doing all these aflycars i"
‘z- TheRed Hand, addressing M Kate,
. ‘ u hing the blood that flowed from his

'7‘ , - go seemed overcome by new trepida-

7 we have lived,” she said, evasiver glanc-
dfivously from side to side. “I have
‘ tore ' in a measure the wrong I did
4- ' fitting her for somethi higher than
-- , prance and digredat on into which
'  havef en. Ididnotthink

. _, ..- with your-r” _‘
Myourtelf,” interrupted The Red
"  Ignd youso far beyond the bound of

alien ' toeringe andweep‘afresh,
1., y;

  
  

 

" ». she had ever seen, only to be snatched from his i

, er, but a man, noble and strong. And

What 1

and, in con— ;
;-\’, 'unétion with Mad Kate, or at least with her 
’ wledge, had stolen her, when a child, from ;

And now her mind recurred to the inter— ,

In a moment her ,

 

Hand— .
l country to know that they were ill the bluffy
1 region which borders the
i such marked
1 land of the interior. Looking at the stars she

 A» y
I you?” demanded j iudged (that it was near

The Red Hand, impatiently. “ Come! out with 1

it!”  -

“ Do not be angry with me!” whinlpcred the
imbecile piteously. “ I thought that we might
find the 0y. Oh! I have had such dreams of
him! He has come to me, not a child anyr long—

have
thought—I have thought—”

She stop (1 iii confusion and terror, glancing
apprehenswely at Iola.

“ What have you then rllt?” demanded The
Red Hand, puzzled at her is lay of emotion.

“Forgive me!” whined ad Kate; “but I
have learned to love her so! I have dared to
hope that they might love each other if we
could only find him, and make lny old age
happ after all. It is for him that I have edu-
catedy her, and trained her to purity in thou flit
and deed, that she might be, in every way wort ly
of him.”

The rich color mounted to Iola’s cheek as she
listened, and she was about to or out iin ul-
sively that she had found hinl; )ut the {cd
Hand burst into a brutal laugh, exclaiming:

“A truly excellent motive! But, as in the
old time, where you have sown I shall reap; so
your wild-goose chase will be productive of
some good—it has prepared me a most admira-
ble Wife !”

Mad Kate uttered a startling scream, and
castin herself upon her knees beside Iola,
clasped the girl in her arms, as if to rotcct her
from the robber chief, while she Cl‘l8( :

“Your wife? Never! Oh! you will not de-
grade her so! She is as pure as an angel! Oh!
you have not the heart for such infamy! A
just God would not sit by and see so spotless a
one so lluted!”

“ Pis l l” sneered the robber. “ My ex )crience
goes to sh0w that the God you talk abou doesn’t
interfere much in mundane affairs. He did not
stand between me and her mother; no more
will he ste between me and the daughter.”

“ Oh! h! Oh! God protect thee, my or
child, as he will never forgive me!” cried fiad
Kate, rockin back and forth with the girl ill
her arms am covering her hair with kisses.

Iola was deepl touched by these marks of
affection; and giving her old friend kiss for
kiss she whispered:

“ 0 not grieve; He will protect me.”

“ Talkin of boys,” interposed The Red Hand,
“who is t is fiip nt hop-o’-my-thumb whom
the girl calls brot er! Of course he can be no
relation to her, though they say he is her very
picture.”

“ Not a word, aunt Kate, as you
cried Iola, vehement!
Then turning to

tinned:

“ You vile wretch! he is one who will yet fit
the noose to your worthless neck! If you dare
to touch me, do you think that earth has secret
places to hide ou from his vengeance? I prom-
ise you, you s all be flayed alive for the insult
alread put upon me !”

“W ew!” lau bed The Red Hand. “He’s a
terrible fellow, ’t he? But, as they say, one
might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a
lamb. If I am to lose my skin anyway, I think
he can’t invent a much severer punishment; so
I guess I’ll go on and enjoy my possession of

ou, until the fall of his awful vengeance! But,

istress Kate, !you haven’t yet answered my
question; and 0 course you know that I expect
an answer. I wasn’t easily put off when we
were young, you remember: and the habit has
grown wit agle.”

His eyes fies ed ominously, showing what lay
beneath his careless tones.

Mad Kate bowed her head into Iola’s lap and
remained silent. A urple flush mounted to the
temples of The Re Hand. He reached forth
his powerful hand, and clutching the shrinking
woman by the shoulder, tore her away, drag—

in Iola from the chair before her clas was
Ere en. With sheer stre h of arm he iftcd
her upon her feet, and holding her so, cried:

“ Do you mean to answer me?”

The woman raised her face to his piteously;
her lips moved, producing no sound: then her
head sunk upon her breast.

"Tell him! Tell him!” cried Iola, unable to
see Mad Kate suffer on her account; but the
woman had fainted. —

With an oath The Red Hand dashed her to
the floor. .

“Fetch her along!” he cried to one of his
myrmidons, who had stood a silent spectator of
the scene; and catching up Iola in his arms, he
blew out the light and strode out of the hut.

love me!”

The Red Hand, she con-

 

CHAPTER XIX.
A LIVING TOMB.

' “ MOUNT and away!" commanded The Red
Hand; and all swung into the saddle and dashed
down the bridle-path to the highway.

Rapidly they rode while the way was smooth,
but more lowly when it became rocky and ob-
structed. ola was familiar enough with the

Missouri River, in
contrast with the rolling prairie
mi lit when they

.. / e.
’ 7". l

halted in a se uestered “

 

. body-guard withdrew.

, .

‘York Library. ,

\

' V9191~

 

 

ket ” or valley, be-
fore a few ru e cabins hi den away among the
trees. Here the women were se arated, The
Red Hand ordering Mad Kate to e taken into
one hut, while he set Iola u on her feet and
bade her follow him into an ac joining one.
With no little trepidation Iola complied, and

, found herself in a low-ceiled room, with a mu h

pine slab supported against the wall for a tab 6,

' and rude benches supplying the place of chairs.

The Red Hand kicked open a door leading into
an inner a Jartment, whose blanket—covered
bunk proclaimed its use.

“ Here. are our ( uni-tors,” he said. “ Not the
most elegant in t 6 world, but such as answer
our purpose. You may consider yourself mis-
tress or prisoner, whichever you refer. If' you
think you can escape. you are at iberty to try.”

Ashe spoke. he released her hands from the
ligature which had bound them. Then with a
bow of mock civility, he left the but.

The first use Iola made of her liberty was to
search both rooms for some won 11 of defense.

j When she had collected everyt ling that could

possibly be put to such a use, she found herself
in possession of a wooden poker, an ordinary
case knife, an unloaded rifle, a tin wash-basin,
a air of top-boots, a bullet mold, a melting
1 lo, and a chunk of lead as large as a hen’s
egg. Abandoning all the others as useless, she
put the last in her pocket. If she could stun

lin by a blow, she mi ht get an effective wea—
pon from his belt, an then be mistress of the
situation. Knowing that she was under sur-
veillance, she did not avail herself of The Red
Hand’s permission to attempt escape. .

She had been alone scarcely ten minutes,
when The Red Hand reappeared.

“ I am sorry to disturb you," he said; “but I
have changed my plans. You will pardon my
seemingr incivility. if I request yell to again sub-
mit to having your hands bound.”

He ap reached her for the purpose of putting
his wor s into effect; but hustin drawin a
bench out from the wall and stepping behin it,
she said:

“Permit me to decline your very courteous
re nest.”

e looked at her surprised, yet pleased with
her spirit. In her dashing eyes he saw the look
with which Dauntless Jerry ad held him, while
Jerry and his’ friends were making their escape
from the Occidental Saloon.

“Curse the pair! they look mightily alike—
the same spirit; almost the some features. But
it is impossible that she should have a brother;
unless—unless—— By Heaven! suppose this ‘Mad
Kate,~ as they call her, wci'e deceiving me, and
this is not the child after all! \Vhat is the mys—
tery of this brother, which she is so anxious
should not be revealed! I’ll force Mad Kate to
tell me curse her! If it should prove not to be
the child after all— But, what’s the odds? I get
a magnificent wife; for, by Heaven, she shall
be my wife! and my reven is just as \rfect,
so long as the father befives that i is his

daWr.”

' 6 he was thus meditating, his eyes were
gloating upon her beauties of person, and her
oft vet graceful bearing.

“ Von‘t you be persuaded!” he asked, aloud.
“It is so much easier to adjust these matters
amicably, you know.”

“ Never, you villain!” she replied, firml '.

He took a step toward her. and reac ed to

ull away the bench. He saw her incline slight-
forward, every muscle tense and eyes fiashin
like fire. He saw her draw her right han
slightl from the folds of her dress.

“ W at weapon has she there?” he asked him-
self; and, remembering that she had been alone
in the cabin several minutes, answered: “ A
knife, most likely. There may have been one
lying about.”

Stepping back he blew a shrill whistle, mut-
terinrr to himself:

“ I ave no particular desire to et a cut, and
she might give me one—the spit re !—before I
could secure her. ”

His call was answered by the four men who
acted as his body-guard, the fifth being yet in-
valid from the effects of his wound.

“ Two of you tie her hands,” cfinmanded The
Red Hand, tossing the cord to one of the men.

“You cowardly wretch!” cried Iola, stepping
from behind the bench and extending her
hands. “Are you afraid to attack an unpro-
tected woman single-handed? I shall not scuf-
fle with the vile tools that serve you; yet to be
bound by even one of them is preferable to sub
mitting to such an ariant knave and poltroon
as you !"

‘1 Just so," re died The Red Hand, with exas-
perating indi erence. “But, if you please,
we’ll have them tied behind your back.”

Nebraska Larry,: the man whom, in the
opening of our story. The Red Ha knocked
down without apparent cause, in the ccidental

Saloon, stepped forward to carr out the com-

’ maiid of his chief. llc tied Icln’s ands securely,

yet with a care not to p in her wrists. W'hile
thus engaged he deftly rew her handkerchief
from her pocket and transferred it to his own
unobserved by any one )resent.

“That will do,” said 6 Red Hand; and his ,

t

 

A.‘ a: - ,

, No. 1. A Hard Crowd ;,
“  am so_-to:igain  you to the incon- ; “ I cannot

venience of riding before me in the saddle,”

pursued the robber chief, addressing the hclp- ‘

less girl, who yet stood calm and resolute before

him; “but prudential reasons makes it neces- ‘

Hill' ’.

knowing thatshe was wholly in his power, |
' “ Even did I not owe to Miss 0122. my hasty re— 3
l twin

Iola folloWed him from the hut and permitted
him to lift her to his horse's withers. Then he

swung into the saddle, and set forth through '

the darkness at a walk. At a narrow pass which

gave entrance to the pocket, he was challenged ~

y a sentinel.

A‘ minute later he passed the figure of a man ,

standing motionless in the shadow of a rock.
The man fell into his wake, moving cautiously,
guided by the sound of his horse’s hoofs. e
was out of sight of The Red Hand; but an ob-
server might have recognized in him the man
who had bound 1018. at his master‘s bidding, and
stolen her handkerchief on his own account.
For nearly a mile he thus tracked The Red
Hand; but as the latter struck into the public

highway, he ‘let his horse out to a swinging gal- ,

lop which soon distanced the man who was
“ sliad0wing " him.

When he could no longer hear the ring of the
horse’s hoofs in advance, Nebraska Larry gave
over the ursuit with an oath, and returned
slowly am thoughtful] to the stronghold.

Meanwhile The Red and rode for an hour on
the highway; then for half an hour among the

broken hills and valleys ; and finally tied his horse. '

Letting Iola walk where the way was smooth
enough, and lifting her over the rough )laces,
he continued forward for another hal -hour.
The goal reached at last was a cave, whose en-
trance was concealcd by overhanging vines.

tined for her habitation. A pile of wood would

enable her to maintain a tire, which would sup- ‘

ply light and warmth. A shake-down of pulled
grass, covered by a buffalo-robe and blankets
servedas a couch. A ju of water and f
engingh for three or four iys were left by her
jai er.

“ What is wanting in comfort is more than
made up in security,” said The Red Hand.
“You are in no danger of molestation, since
not a soul in the world save myself knows of
this cave. Before you will be in need of any-
thing, I shall return with a new supply, or to
take you to a new and more commodious abode.

Until then, adieu!”
A large rock was nicel balanced before the

inner mouth of the ga ery which connected I

the subterraneous chamber with the outer
world. The Red Hand passed into the gallery,
knooked out a supporting rock, and the bowlder
rolled so as to completely close the opening.
Then the footsteps of the robber chief went
down the gallery and died away.

An awful sense of desolation came over Iola,

with the thought that she was immured in a .

living tomb, known only to her captor. \Vhat
if he should be killed? 01', if he were captured
by her friends, she believed that he would
rather leave her to die in that awful sepulcher
than reveal her whereabouts.

In that unchanging gloom and silence she
had nothing b which to-measure the flight of
time, save on y the recurrence of hunger and
drowsiness, and the necessity of replenishing
her fire to avoid being left in utter darkness.

Her thoughts were Of the strange life she had .

led in the society of a half—demented woman;
of the mystery which had shrouded that life
almost from its inception, and seemed 'ust
[about to lift, when the rude hand of her a ne-
tor snatched her away; of the father whom she
had known for scarce a minute; and of the love
- that had come to her life like warm showers to
the parched earth. L 'ing with her hands over
her eyes and her who e soul on ged in the ef-
fort to realize the image of her over that rested
warm in her heart, she passed much of the time
in a beatific transport.
And so she waited, a be] less risoner. “That
chance in the hazardous iii}; of er jailer might

leave her to die in that horrible prison! But was ‘

not even that preferable to his return?
_With her mind tortured with this horrible
dilemma, ylet aboye all dreading the time which
. mustsee t e be 'ng of her loathsome bon-
she fell into a troubled slumber, from
which she awoke shrieking, shrinking with her-
ror from his odious embrace and sickening at
his tainted breath on hercheek.

 

CHAPTER XX.
.1 NEBRASKA LARRY.

_“IT is useless to attempt to follow them to-
night,” called The Stranger after Major Graves-
en . “Bring the gentleman in, and Mrs. Rob-
inson will a 1y restoratives.”

, That ex
‘with terror,
conscious friend into the house, and they soon
gathered his scattered senses.

“ Your daughter is in the hands of the man
they call The Red Hand,” said The Stranger.
“ At day-break I shall take his trail, and never

‘ leave it until .I place her again in your arms.”

Dr. I orth grasped the hand of The

Stranger , y. .

,
. 
wu‘.  r 1 k.

I ,.

In 1
an inner chamber he showed Iola the place des— ‘

nt lady, weeping and trembling :
assisted the major to hear his un- ‘

v  can.»

. ' a , ‘

a. .- same“... a- -...._ ..___..__. __

somehow or 0t er I have ever confidence in
your success in anything you un ertake. Ican—
not find words to thank you for befriending me
and my child—”

“ It is unnecessary,” hastily interrupted The
Stranger, with one of his uliar frowns.

coverv, I have an old score to settle with The
Red Hand, which would lead me to hunt him to
his lair.”

Struggling to overcome the mysterious repug-
nance which this man‘s frown inspired, Dr.
Chillingworth said:

“Let us make common cause against him.
No man ever wronged another more deeply
than he has wronged me and mine. I have
been on his track for years, but dared not attack
him until I tracked him to the place where he
had hidden my child. I have been deceived a
‘ hundred times, but never saw her until to-day.”
‘ lVipin her eyes on her apron, Mrs. Robinson

had stood listening to the conversation. She

now interposed:

“ \Voul ii’t it be well to take Dauntless Jerry
in com )any with you? He is a brave lad and
will fig t manfully for his sister.”

Dr. Chillingworth turned sharpl upon the
speaker, -his face convulsed by a su den spasm

of pain.
1 ‘ Madam,” he said, “what of this Dauntlem
i Je '? Do you know him?”

“ now him? Law bless you, sir! I’ve
knowed him this twelve months. (1 a finer-
i spoken or better—intentioned young man ain’t to
be found in these parts—nor a sweeter or more
amiable than his sister, sir.”

“ You call them brother and sister. I pre-
sume they are in the habit of passing as such,
i thou h the are not related in realit '.”

“ 0t re ated?” repeated the g widow, in
amazement. “ Why, bless your heart, sir!
4' they’re twins!”

1 A sudden pallor overspread the doctor’s face,
j and he caught at the bed-post for sup rt.

“You must be mistaken,” he sai , huskily.

“The girl herself said that he was not her

brother and that she never had one to her
, knowle( ge.”
“ Iola said so, sir?" asked the widow, blankly.
H  H

“ That Gentleman Sam or, as on call him,
Dauntless Jerry, was not her brot er?”

“She said so.”

“ Surely, sir, you must have misunderstood
her. She never could have said such a thing in
earnest.”

“These gentlemen can bear witness that she
said so, and with every appearance of earnest—
ness.” The major bowed gravely. He was think-
ing that Iola had indulged in a very bold im-

 

position. The St ‘ r sat in stem silence,
with gloom brows. ile he would not r-
mit himse to doubt her, he was altogethaer
. puzzled.

1 “ But, gentlemen,” pursued Mrs. Robinson, “ a
,chance resemblance so perfect is im ssible.
i They are as like as twopeas exce t t at one
has short black hair and the other on blonde.

Besides, everybody knows them as bro her and
sister by their own acknowled , eat.”
1 “Major,” said the doctor, ‘ on have seen

i them. Are they so nearly alike
3 opinion?”

His voice shook and his eyes filled. He sunk
i into a chair with the old despondency upon
um.

Major Gravesend’s eyes flashed and his
cheeks crimsoned slightly with indignation, as
he said, emphatically:

“It is my opinion that the girl is imposin
upon you, in the hope of getting a rich father.

“ Hold on there, pardner i” cried The Stranger,
his speech running into dialectic form as his
anger rose. “You recoming down retty rou h
on a girl that isn’t by to speak in her own e-
fense. I reckon you’d better take that back.”

“ I’m not in the habit of swallowing my
words!” returned the major, defiantly. \ iew-
ing The Stran er as a. rival, he did not feel over-
cordial towa him.

“ Gentlemen, I pravyeyou desist!” said the doc-
tor, starting up. “ 9 cannot afford to have
dissension among ourselves. I think there must
be some mistake here. The girl hastoo truthful
a look, even if the dimculty of successful decep-
tion was notso great. Let us present a united
front to the common enemy, and seek explana-
tion when we have recovered her.”

“I hope it may be as you suggest,” said the
major.

And The Stranger contented .himself with
this half-concession.

Still it was plain that the doctor was more
disturbed than his words would seem to indi-
cate. While the tears started irresistibly in his
eyesf he thought:

“ f this be another disappointment—But no,
I’ll not allow myselfto believe— And yet—oh,
God! what a life I have led!”

He bowed his face in his hands, and in an agony

z of s )irit asked himself: ' ’
“ anshe bean impostor? And yet as I re-
, member the ‘llivofi', the are too nearly ke to be
1 strangers. y—a—w y have I been involved in
i such a network of deception‘and wrong?” -

What is your

 

/' \
\ . , ' a. ' , ‘as
- ’ .,>4“«'1“.'i; 7;:

4 . .

or, Gentleman Sam’s Sister.

lain the feeling,” he said, “ but  anajor Gravesend sat with a dismal frown
ittin

' whole sex to the do

' the tab e with his fingers.

‘ to the highest in the land?

 

a.” ,r _

   
   
 
   
   
   
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
   
   
   
   
    
 
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
   
    
   
  
  
  
  
    
       
   
    
    
  
 
 
          
      
    
  
        
    
  
    
     
   
   
   
   
  
  
  
      
    
  
       
    
     
     
    
     
     
 
 
   

’\

—fi.

 

 

a devil’s tattoo on
e was wishing ‘5 the

his brows, beatin
'7!

The Stranger lay ck in his chair with closed
e es. His late betrothed was discovered to be
t e daughter of a wealthy man, or was attempt-
ing to s herself off as such by disowning her >
rothcr; for, though he would permit
no other man to impeac 1 Iola’s veracity, The
Stran r et believed firmly in the relationshi
himse f. f she would repudiate the tie of bl » ‘
so lightly at the romptiii of ambition, would
she be content to ink herse f to an o
venturer like himself when her newly-acquired
position and wealth would enable her to ire
But worse than ' ,
she was in the hands of his bitterest enemy. ‘

Mrs. Robinson, terrified by the appearance of , _
those about her, had sunk trembling intoa chair .
which occupied an obscure corner. As she had
not witnessed the meeting between Iola andthe
doctor, she was wonderingl what had inducpd '
the girl to deny “ her own esh and blood.” ‘ .

Surely the hapless Iola was undera cloud. Adi ' 
those nearest and dearest to her had doubted '
her, however much they had tried to hide the
fact from themselves.

That night a band of resolute men was form-
ed, and everything 0t in readiness for the mar-
row‘s e ition. hey would have set out 
mediately; but in that case torches should have ' .
been necessary to follow the trail; and they knew ~  _ if.
that an ambuscade and a slaughter by invith  x". ff
foes would be almost inevitab e. x . ’ . ,5.»

When The Stranger came to try his
he found that the leasure of being de
upon his fair nurse ad induced him to play the ,
invalid lon r than his ru ged constitution Ade-
manded. r. Chillingwort , too, seemed much
like his own self, supported in a measure by ex- *
citement. - a. r

Following the trail, they fOImd that it led  ,. ‘1 « ,I;
to Dauntless Jerry’s hut in the woods A thou-
sand little thin about the two rooms itoon-- ,' ' V
tamed gave eVidence of Iola’s presence. But; ’4  1
the house was now tenantless, yet eft untouched, ‘ “Ax. 
as if its occupants hadgone out onavisit. ‘Angt‘
saddle, a rifle, a pair of top-boots and m. " ‘
articles of male attire reminded Dr.  I,
worth painftu of Dauntlem Jerry. ‘  \

“They may have captured the boy, too,” 
said further depressed at the the ht. . ' - 

“He,” replied The Stranger. “ ere are no
signs of a struggle and don’t believe they ?
would have can t  napping. Doubtless he -
was away from iome.” ~'

“They gobbled Mad Kate, an’ that’s a fact!” ,'
said one of the men. “ I wonder what the -.
loot wanted 0’ her?” , ' 

There was no ready solution to this question? 
and as nothing further could be gathered at the;3
hut, the y moved on. As they advanced
the trail e harder and harderto follow,-
from two causes. First, the soil changed him. ,5
asoftloamtoarocky ;and 
heavy rain, which had come on  . _ '
nivht, was fast washin out the few  luff. 5
After wandering all a ', the drenched‘ and 
weary party had to ac owledge themsel
comp etely at fault. ' . ‘ L 3

That night they bivouacked in the wilder“?
and in the mormng se into two 
the larger one under he lead of Major Grew
send, the smaller headed by The Stranger. The

latter was accompanied b Dr. Chilling ' ' 
3nd also 831’ 1thed y was g‘kher $2151, 0152'!
eclaim on against 0 Hand, . . 

W? of a horse-thief,’,£ , 

k .

.\ .2175

’—

 

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, ft;

‘ u
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whom, in the c
seemed to have taken a peculiar aversion. ‘
When the late second of Missouri Bill in
nounced his intention to attach himaelf tom
Stranger’s party, the latter showed his  {4| ,.
eence b silence; but, there was an
glitter in his eyes and set td’his lips, which
might have warned the gambler, had he ob:
served them, that the first symptom of. 
cry on his part would be visited by swift .
t was arranged that the two parties : «
scour the country in search of The Red ~ ,
retreat; and a rendezvous was appointed, " w
scouts from either party could e ect him
munication. _ _‘ ‘ 
It was about the middle of the’aftemgonyof
the second day, that The Stumger’s party were
startled by the appearance of a man 1' f ,
directly in their path, with his hands held , "v. ' ‘
his‘lheafii, the 2,todthe frgéig. Th 8 ‘. . ’ '
’oare you.’ am e trawl..-
stopping within a few feet .of him. , _ g "’
“ A man who has the Will and the kneww; :3
whichwillputTheRedHandmyour "‘ .
fore sunset,” re lied the dark-browad strum. , ‘
“By in so i” cried Poker Tom, “but {3’32"
mt...“ a: "It? iiifilil‘mé‘éi’mr "W7 ”
in a. wi e ’ go .
ile that he leads usintoanicelagglmbg,
hat’ll cost us all our hides!” _ _ _ ‘- "in
“Are on a member of The Bed M
band?” as ed The Stranger, ateme . ‘ ' 
“ Yes,” admitted Nebraska Larry, 
“Are not you endangering your ' .
er' ’ . 
Larry. -. 

        
   
 

placi ourselfinour w 
e. mama"... 
s m,, x w. w I
chief cut—thgahandallhh 

   

 
 
 

 
  
  
 

“ I am aware of the fact.”

-“,, " ’ “ Then how do you expect to escape?”
* V ‘f vghmaking terms With you.”
. r “ at are your terms?”
“ I... ‘ x “I propose to betray The Red Hand into your
,* . wer before sunset, and leave the rest of the

oys to shift for themselves. I have nothing
against them; but I’d give in neck rather than

he should escape the noose. ithout m help,
3‘ you might hunt for him twenty years an be no
a" nearer finding him than you are now. The

 , rice of this hel is an engagement on your part
./ . hat I shall go reo.”
i, . g - > “ What evidence have we that you are not
i: ~ '- ' about to lead us into an ambush?”
: ' 66 
i lack hair from his temple.

' '. until he looked like a ( emon of fury.
 . “Well?” asked The Stranger.
 “It is a rule in the band that we shall never
"« address our leader, who is The Red Hand, by
‘ g ' any title. I accidentally began to call him cap-
tain, and some of the men here present saw me
knocked down before the words were out of my
., 1 month. Do
1,  to for at sue a thing as that?”
: He rew himself erect, with flashing eye and
,. dilating nostril. He was a man above the ordi-
"' \ . nary ,level, as was indicated b
 - mien: and the indignity must

    
    
   
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
    
    
   
   
    
    
 
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
    
  
 
     
  
  
  
     
     
 
    
  
  
    
  
   
 
    
   
 
 
   
  
  
    
   
 
   

ve cut him


- " ve had my fln r on the trigger to shoot
- 'him a score of times s nee,” he pursued; “ but I

‘ hangman.
- fame‘g? on befgre you, where you can keep your

piste .
am “That’s fair!” cried The Stranger. the smol-

g  eyes. “Lead on! Let me get my gri on
n ‘ » Lthe throat of The Red Hand, and I swear hat
’ 1 ~ no man shall raise a hand against you until he
to, a has passed over my dead body!”

CHAPTER XXI.
y A STRANGE DILEMMA.

“ MIANWHILE,” ursued The Stranger, draw-
,inghis pistol and rowning menacing! , “it is
 -' for me to tell you that you w11 be held

. , strict account for your behavior, and any-
 thing hav‘ the slightest appearance of treac -
- 1er will f0 eit your life. Lead on!”

' , f Let me second the motion, Cap’n,” said
Poker Tom, also drawing his weapon and com-
, to the side of The Stranger. ‘ I reckon the

oot’ll git rplugged, ef he don’t carry himself

I , hter’n !”
f " "‘. ck out any other three men in your com—
”;  but I don’t want that hound at my
 said Nebraska Larry, frownin darkly

.at Poker Tom. “ Being in my rear, he’ find an
excuse for shooting me inside of half an hour.”
“Maybe an think I don’t dast to shoot you

face ” cried Poker Tom, with a fierce
- and as he
the breast o the other.

Like a flash Nebraska Larry’s pistol shot

 

by!) the barrel.
— Dro that weapon, you cowardly whelp!”
be c , in a. ringing voice. “ Drop it.”

So. imperious was his tone and look that the
' bler was cowed. Blanching to the lips. he
his arm sink to his side, almost involun-

2 .' '.",‘ If necan this hyar hain’t the time to quarrel
’with- eon, he said, with a scowl of malignant
‘  “After yeou’ve showed us The Red
Band, I’allow yeou’ll git attended to.”
“I want ‘your word that that dog shall not
at!“ me While my logos is of! of him,” said Ne-
, to e Stranger, not deigning
look at the

bler bully.
I’ll guarantee; at,” was the reply. “ Put
' n, Poker Tom. When you’re
you be called on.”
‘ bler slunk away.

“ Lead on!” camman ed The Stranger to Ne-

! Without more ado the robber turned upon his
t; and strode forward, followed b the others.
‘j’I' ' was already below the orizon and
' , , were fast being enshrouded in the
 at night when The Stranger stopped his
. glide. Suspicioust he said:
 , fun-k here, my friend. I thought we were
_  The,Red Hand before sunset.”
V ‘f H oil know for yourself that I have come in
'1 'j'most direct line possible; and when I tell
' ' that wears within half a mile of the s t
into camp in to-night, you will see that t us
1,1387% preserved he appearance at least of

  

        
      
     
   
   
 
 
         
  
   
   
 
  
       

 

  

“guns. straight. I have nothing further to

a; ', now advanced with mixer caution, and
gut of time they ried the light of
i’ ‘ , surrounded by four men. The Red

h = a  consisted of five men. One

I , still’in d from the wound he had received

‘ : rght 'of thetduel in thgpccidentaziSalooni
an been sen on a scan mg expedi on,an

"  about to betray his chief into the
-.‘ enemy. The other three were with

.'_- ' g I
~ i

\
.- “

   
   
 

. \ I .

on see that scar?” asked the man, rais- ;
1“ 'ingulgis As he did i
 w ' so ' face flushed pur 1e, and his eyes glittered ,

ou think men of my stamp are apt ;

speech and ;

 thought better of it, and reserved his neck for i
the If you wish further security, let ;

daring fire of his hatred flaming up lurid through ;

ke he aimed his cocked pis- j

  ‘so that Poker Tom could look directly ',

.y ;" b

“There is your ggme. It only remains for
you to bag it, said ebraska Larry. “I have
ut one request—that you will not shoot The
Red Hand, at least so as to kill, but give him
the full benefit of a rope-end !”

/ ‘ The New Yprk Library.

0 ' , . .
/ . . ~

I Vol: I.

n

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Hal”,
Horrifled b the hidden significance of that
laugh, Dr. C illingworth caught at a sapling

‘ for su port.

“ N 0 fear but he’ll get his deserts!” muttered ;

The Stranger, his eyes glowing like coals.
Dividing his company into three parties, he

nal from him. Himself heading one of the parties
which was to move off at right angles on either
side, leaving the third where it was, he placed
the other under Dr. Chillingworth. Among his
own party he numbered Poker Tom and Ne-
! braska Larry, determined to keep them under
his own eye.

“ One word,” said the doctor graspin his
hand earnestly. “ Do not kill he Red and
‘ outright. I must have a word with him before
i he dies.

I your promise?"
“ I have no intention of giving him so honor-
‘ able 0. death as shmting,” replie The Stranger,
griml, . “ I owe him too much for that!”

Am so they parted.

Poker Tom affected great ea erness and vigil-
ance, creepimr forwar with 's pistol held in
readiness. Hresently
stumble, clutch hastily at a bush, as if to save

2 exploded. It was a done very naturally, and
1 all of the party but two—The Stranger and Ne-
braska Larry—supposed it an accident. They
knew better.

“ Die! you infernal traitor!” cried The Stran-

er.

, g His pistol belched forth a sheet of flame, and
1 Poker Tom fell heavily to the ground.

“Come on, men!" commanded The Stranger
in a ringing voice; and turnin sha 1y toward
5 the fire, he led the way throng the rush with
. at bounds.

‘ as he bounded into the open s ace around the
i famp-flre. “ Surrender, you b tick-hearted var-
' ets!

l of arm!”

‘ arned by Poker Tom’s treacherous shot, the
1 robbers were already upon their feet, with
weapons drawn. The Red Hand made an at-
tempt to kick out the fire, at the same time aim-
, ing a shot at The Stranger, who was the first
! man to a )ear. The one action defeated the
. ‘he Stranger kept on unharmed.

! Seeinr more at his bac ,
1, char re a volley, and turned to dash into the
‘ w s in the opposite direction. But they were

 

other, am

This is all important, believe me! Have '

arranged asurround, the attack to begin at a sig- ‘

cued in spite of 'ou!”
‘ H

The Stranger saw him 1

“ here is m child ’4?” he demanded, hoarsely.
“You devil! w at have you done with her?”

“ Ha ! Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed The Red
Hand.

“ Ah !” cried the doctor, with a sudden thought.
“ We shall defeat you after all! The man who
betrayed you into our power can lead us to
your stronghold: and my darling will be res—

Ha! Ha! a! Ha!” laughed the fallen,
chief again; and he rolled his eyes to the face
of Nebraska Larry.

“ We can depend upon your guidance, can we
not?” asked Dr. Chillingworth, turning appeal-
ingly toward the traitor robber.

“ The girl is not at the stron rhold—if you refer
to Gentleman Sam’s sister. 0 took her away
ni ht before last,” replied Nebraska Larry,with
a s ake of the head.

“ Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed The Red

‘ Hand, more devilishly than ever.

“ Do not you know where she is?” asked the

, doctor, with painful anxiety.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” came in that laugh

1 again, like some mocking fiend.
himself from fallin , and in the act his pistol i

“ No,” replied Lzu'r . “ Make him tell you.”

‘_‘ Ha! Ha! Ha! a!” laughed the robber
chief. Then rubbing his hands in ghoul-like
rlee, he repeated: “ ‘ Make him tell you!’ Ha!

a! Ha! Ha-a-a!”

His laugh ended in a long-drawn shriek of

. mocking hilarity.

i “Shoot every villain that resists!” he yelled, 1

Down with you arms, every mother’s son -

the robbers dis— 1

met by the party under Dr. Chillingworth. ‘

1, Another volley, and they turned sharply to the
i left, directly in the face of the third party.
I “Rally!” yelled The Red Hand. “Charge!
; No quarter! Freedom or the hangman’s noose!”
| A rattling volley, and the four men of the
‘ third party went to the ground together.
“ Hin'rah!” shouted the robber chief. “Now

for it. Scatter!”
. But a deadly fire poured in from both sides
I at his three companions bevond the power of
[flight A shot from Dr. Chillingworth crippled
1 the right hand of the chief. so that his pistol
droptped to the Hound; while The Stranger
slskil ully tumbl him in a heap with a broken
9%

One of the robbers lay on his face, stone dead.
Another was faintly gasping his last with the
blood streaming from a wound in his side. The
third being supported in a. partially sitting posi-

at his foes.

“ Surrender!” cried the doctor, hesitating to
shoot him.

“Never!” was the defiant reply; and aimin
his pistol into his own ear, the ruilian escape
the gallows by suicide.

two of his deadliest foes. But at that instant
he caught sight of Nebraska Larry, and realized
his treachery; and with a fierce oath of fury be
aimed at his heart, shoutingz'

d “ ill'ltat for your recompense, you treacherous
’ evi !

to one side; and the ball sped harmlesst by.
With a fierce oath. the baffled chief tumed his
istol upon himself; but Nebraska Larry’s heavy
t kicked the weapon from his hand.

The Red Hand next drew his knife; but he
was disarmed, on] having succeeded in inflict—
ing a slight woum on his ri ht breast.

“ Ha! ha! ha!” langhe Nebraska Larry.
“ Are we quite, old man!"

The Red Hand only glared at him with blood-
1 shot eyes, foaming at the mouth with impotent

 

ra .
1 £6ch are not yet quits!” said The Stranger,
‘, confronting his fallen foe with the sternness of
i an avenger.
! “Have not I an account to settle with you?”
i demanded Dr. Chillingworth.
The Red Hand rolled his eyes until they found
g the face of the last speaker. Then his features
were distorted kg a laugh of fiendish malignity.
“Ha! Ha! a! Ha!”
Not a word; but he looked and laughed

\

tiqn by the trunk of a three, aimed a final shot -

Seeing him, The Red Hand tried to follow his 5
example; for he found himself in the power of ‘

“ Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed Larry, as he leaped ‘

. It seemed to sting Dr. Chillingworth into new

ife.

“ I’ll stop your merriment, at any rate, you
accursed fiend!” he cried. “See what I have
prepared for you!”

As he spoke, he uncoiled from his waist a rope
whose use was not to be mistaken. At sight of
it, the men set up a cheer; but The Red Hand
regarded it unmoved, and laughed again.

At this point, all were startled by a groan.
In contemplation of the intense emotion of The
Stranger and Dr. C hillingworth and the fiend-
ish malignity of The Red Hand, the men had
forgotten their fallen comrades.

“We have neglected these
long. Assist me here, men.
is op ortunity for your skill.”

“ will do all that I can to alleviate their suf-
ferings; but I must confess to you that I am not
a physician. The title is part of a disguise I
ado )ted while following yonder villain.”

“ Vell, let us examine them. and do what we
can. This one is beyond all relief.”

Of the four men Vt ho had comprised the third
party, two were found to be dead and the re-
maining two severely wounded, so effective had
been the last volley of the robbers. In The

‘ Stranger’s ilartybone man had fallen with two
bullets in 's dy, dead, perhaps, before he
struck the ground. The Stranger himself was
bleeding from two wounds, one in the shoulder,
and one in the side, where a bullet had ranged
along a rib. In Dr. C hillingworth’s party,three
men were wounded—one severely, two slightly)

The survivors frowned darkly when they
summed u ) their loss.

cor fellows too
(1, doctor, here

i “ Three cad men and six wounded!” said The
Stranger “Those fellows knew how to fight,
at any rate. ”

“I reckon their chief orter hang powerful
high for this!” muttered one of the men. \

“No fear but he’ll get hanging enough!” re-
plied The Stranger, with one of his peculiar

rowns. “You’ll find another out in the brush

yonder. I settled his account, so as to save a

bullet in the back, rhaps.”

“ Let him go. reckon he’ll keep,” replied
‘ one of the men.

Had they gone to look for Poker Tom, the
would have discovered that he was not to
found; but so enraged were they at his treach-
ery, that no one cared to see whether or not he
; lay wounded, needing their care; but all ad-
 dressed themselves to collecting the‘ dead and

making the wounded as comfortable as possible.

I “ And now, gentlemen,” said the doctor, when

this had been accomplished, “ let us have this

. rope over yonder limb, and test the efficacy of
hanging!”

“ You fool! you dare not hang me!” said The

. Red Hand, coolly.

“And why not?” demanded the doctor, tyin
the noose with his own hand; for the Inn ha
sprung to the work with a will, and the rope

, was already dangling across the limb.

‘ “ For your daughter’s sake, I have placed her
where she can get neither bread nor water, save
from my hand. What will become of her, do

, you think, if you stop the breath of the only

‘ man who can find her?”

“I intend to _make your secret the rice of

, your life!” replied the doctor, coolly, adjusting

| the noose about the neck of the robber chief.

‘ “Pugh! you are a fool, as I said before! Do

»-you think me such an idiot as to purchase my‘

[ life from you, only to be given over to these

! devils? Have you the dignity of the name of a

! Vigilance Committee, gentlemen?’ ,.

'i The Bed Hand spoke with a fierce wear of;

mock courtesy: I

' l

 

I
i
1

“A. .An~. .. ._

s»

-V NO. 1"

1"

“We’re ‘vigilance’ enough fur you !” replied I

one of‘ the men; and the rest joined in a deep
rumble of wrathful assent.

“Hoist away!” commaflied the doctor.

Out of the fourteen en—mcluding Poker
Tom—who had com
Dr. Chillin orth, ebraska Larry an two
other men ad escaped Without injury; but
those who were only slightly wounded run
to lay a hand on the rope; and The Red an
swung clear of the ground in a twmkhn .
agonized writhin
must have move any hearts not steeleId by long
years of wrong, or made callous by daily scenes
of semi—barbarism. He clutched srnodically
at the rope above his head; but his right hand
had been rendered helpless by the doctors
bullet.

“Let him down!” commanded the doctor ground three out of the five men he ding the Larry. When you bring me his scalp, my men. '___ '
when the purple visage of the wretcb show . rope. A wild yell—a rush—and the little glade shall salute. you as first—lieutenant, in place of »  a“
that he was at the int of suffocation. - swarmed with men. Missouri Bill.” . ‘ _

The men obey I
long the torture as much as poss1
lingworth loosened the Inoose;
Hand lay in a hea , gasping for breath.

“ Where is my tighter? demanded the doc-
tor when the robber chief was able to speak.

‘1 Where she will suffer the pangs of starva-
tion—where she will burn With thirst! Ha! ha!
in suffering—”

Y‘ Hoist awa l” commanded the doctor; and
the bitter wor s were stopped in the throat of
the obdurate robber. I I

Again a scene from which the eye turns Im
horror. The ride of the savage (whether white
or red) coul _
face death resolutely and With a calmness born
of bravado but no will could compose the mus-
(ciles when the body was in the actual grasp of

eath.

“ Lower awayl” cameItheI stern command; ‘
and again a. mass of quivering humamty lay ‘

upon t e ground.

“Where is my daughter?”

The doctor’s voice was implacable.

“ Where she will die and rot, curse you! but
you will never see—”

" Hoist away!”

The doctor was a man of ice. His voice was I

as steady as if his victim had been a bale of

merchandise. I I I
This time the struggles were faint, conSisting

of only now and then an involuntary twitching ‘

0f the limbs: but the contortion of feature, the

protrusion of eye-balls, was horrible in the ex- ,

treme.
“ Lower awa !” commanded the doctor
when the blood gan to issue from the nose and

ears.

The men obeyed, but their victim lay motion-
less. I I I

“ Here! a canteen—quick! He is dying!
Great God! if he should die new!”

Dr. Chillingworth poured the 11 nor down the
throat of the unconscious robber c ief, and after
a time restored him to consciousness.

“ Oh, curse you! have you brou ht me back?”
was the salutation of The Red and,Iwhen he
saw the face of his foe ben ' over him.

Instantly the doctor was 6 stern judge

“ Where is my daughter?” he demanded, as
unmoved as ever.

The Red Hand made no ’reply, but lay with When the cam was astir, The Red Hand 1 beads of sweat that stood thick upon his brow,"
closed eyes, breathing heav11y. Presently his called for Poker em. The gambler presented when he thought that he was he pless——uttefly.I

head sagged slightly to one side, and his eye-
lids opened slightly. I I

Dr. Chillingworth arose from his kneeling
posture and turned to The Stranger.

“ The man is asleep,” he said.
do? I dare not nd him ‘ He would
never survive it. nd if he oiild die, what
would become of my child? AdVlse me.’

“I know of no stronger motive than love of
life,” replied The Stranger, gloomily. “ If his
rev is stron r than that, and keeps him si-
lent, confess hat I am at a loss how to move
him.”

romise him his freedom if he

“Su we
ppm 0 can be hunted down at any

releases her!
time afterward. ”

“Try it.”

“ But sup the men should objectWI

“ I think could persuade them!’ rephed The
Stranger, and his eye roamed with a sort of
contempt over the knot ‘of men still waiting at
the otherflfnd 051 thethro , The empty noose
aw in e win wi g veness,

D128 Chillingworth knelt guide The Red
Hand, and shook him into wakefu from
that sleep which is sometimes induced y the
exhaustion followin intense agony. Thereb-
ber chief awoke wit a start.

on again?” he snarled. “May the
devil launhis own!”

c
And he turned away his head wearily.
"‘See here!” mist/ad the doctor, ‘ Ihavea
pro to You have had a spice of
whatie awaits you if you remain obdurute; if,

‘ now?

the attacking (party, ;

. They were williii to ro-i
ble. Dr. ghil-

enable the crime-stained man to ‘

 

A Hard drewd; or, Gentleman Sam’s Sister.

ing her! So do your worst! Ha! ha! ha!” he
added, leering at .The Stranger, “ are we quits
So on love her, do you?
will have he consolation of reflecting, for the
next four or five days, that she is dying a lin-

ring death; unless she has wit enough to dash
figr head against the rocks and so escape the

! hellish gnawing of hunger. bid 'ou ever starve
‘ until you cuised God, man an fortune!
- ha! it is a glorious revenge!”

His 1
were terrible to beho d, and j‘

Ha!

The doctor turned away sick at heart.

“It is no use!” he sai . “My God! what
shall we do?”

Any answer to the question was cut short by
a hurtlin \sound in the air. Before they had
time to t ink, The Stranger and Dr. Chilling-
worth were dashed to ether and thrown upon
the ground; and a ratt ing volley brou ht to the

The Red Hand struggled to a sitting posture;
heard their wild cheer—“Hurrah for Poker

and The Red Tom!”—and with a diabolical smile of triumph I,

sunk back unconscious.

 

CHAPTER XXII.
FICKLE FORTUNE.

THE bullet fired by The Stranger at Poker
Tom grazed his temple, partially stunning him
for the moment. He arose to his feet, however,
just in time to see the party of The Red Hand
overpowered. He turned, and with swift, glid-
ingx steps sought security in flight.

t a distance of a few miles he ran upon an— 5
‘ sated his vengeance, the band took up the line

other camp, which proved to consist of a dozen

men, with about a score of horses. Boldly the,

mbler stalked forward. until commanded to
alt by a sentinel.

“I come as a friend,” he said, “with the

news that The Red Hand has just been gobbled

Instantly the men crowded about him, while
one of them asked:

‘ Who are you, and what do you know of
The Red Hand?”

“I’m Poker Tom, at your sarvico, and my
name’s a rettv fair shOW of my mode of life.
The Red and’s the man what cracks the whip
when he wants yeou galoots to come to taw. I
reckon, thou h, be liain’t long fur this airth, ef
yeou don’t ta 0 a hand in a leetle game in which
he held the loosin’ keerds.”

A rapid interchange of questions and answers
soon put the cam ing partfy in possession of the
facts, and assure them 0 Poker Tom’s loyalty

. to their interests; and they were soon on the

way to rescue.
A skillfully-thrown lariat brought The Stran-
r and Dr. Chillingworth to the ground, bound
y the same noose. Before they could draw
knife or pistol, to release themselves or beat 03
their foes, the robbers were u n them; and
they were soon securely bound, and and foot.
Of the rest of the party, all were shot dewn or
forced to surrender except one, who effected his
escape in the darkness.
As we have said, The Red Hand sunk back

unconscious, when he heard the shout of vie- .

tory of his adherents. He received instant at-
tention and was made as comfortable as possi-
ble until morning.

himself with a conscious swagger.

“ My man,” said the robber chief, scanning
him shame from head to foot, “if I remember
w 6 passed in his cheeks?”

“ Boss, yeou’re a-cacklin’ tenor!” replied Po-
ker Tom.

“ The same
got in Chancery

“ Boss, yeou’re a-whistlln’ bass, fur sure!”

“ And last night you brought these fellows to
the rescue?”

I“ Now, boss, yeou’re jest a-shoutin’ in the
high notes! I reckon yeou’d been laid on the
shelf by this time, ef it hadn’t been fur yer
humble servant!”

“ why have you befriended me and my men?”

ti a
gents as was gents, the fust clatter; an’ I never
had the stomach to see a boss

that’s the how!”

“Such evidences of friendship should not go

unrewarded.”
“ Wal, boss I leave that to yeou.”
“How can re y you?”
“ I’m to make he trump myself?”
“ If you please.”
“ Wal boss, when yeou truss up that that

chicken ”——pointing to The Stranger—“let me 3
i cried The Stranger.

have the fust hand on the rope I”
“I don’t propose to hang him just now. I

have further business with him,” replied The 1 shouted the youth in return. as he dashed ewe

Red Hand with a black scowl

 “ Stow yer money!”

\Vell, you i

. was ruthless.

rightly, you acted as second to Missouri Bill,
n e '

ht you sided with me, when I 1

ye see I knowed as how yepu was ..

sharp walked over i
by a lot 0’ cattle jest because he was down— ,

severed and a pistol thrust into his hand.

i is raven locks we
I wind, and his eyes lazm With excl

., 17:“ t ._ writ?“

,v ~~r
. ,.
. x.

.23 g ,

Jn- . ]

    
  
   
   
   
 
  
 
   
  
    
  
 
  
   
   
   
     
  
  
    
   
   
    
  
   
   
  
  
   
     
   
  
  
  
  
    
    
   
 
   
   
 
 
   
   
    
  
    
 
    
    
      
  
  
    
   
    
  
  
   
 
   
      
    
  
   
     
 
      
  
 
    
    
  

“Homes?” " 1 .
“ Humpli! They'd be a through ticket fur a , ' 4
free. swin , ef I 0t ketched with one!” 7‘

The Be Han regarded the gambler closely,
as if to divine what lay beneath his replies.
Then he said, slowly:

“My friend, I reckon you haven’t led a strict-
ly Christian life l”

“I allow they could spot me fur everything
in the calendar, from carryin’ a pair of aces in
my sleeve to rib-stickin !”

“ Suppose you join our brotherhood.”

“Boss, that's jest the music my year’s been , ' -
a-ticklin’ fur, this half-hour! I’m yer huckle— \-~_.
berr ', fur ninety days!” \ v»? 

“ ’ell. my men are in the habit of earning .
their positions. You know the traitor Nebraska ‘

“GIood ’nough! Boss, let’s strike palms on
that!’ ‘
“And now,” said The Red Hand, wheh that ,
ceremony was .erformed, “let us see our skill 
at hIIanging. tring up every one ut these
0. .
Under the lead of Poker Tom, Who sought .
the work with avidity, eager for a chance to A
show his zeal, the wounded and the he] less ~ \ '4'
EXQSODGI‘S were suspended to the limb on w ch ‘
e Red Hand had so nearly expiated all his
crimes. They bore themselves manfully, none
deigning to ask mercy of the hand they knew

When The Red Hand had thus in a measure

of march toward their mountain stronghold,
bearing their chief on a rudely-constructed lit-
ter

 

Bound to the backs of horses, The Stranger f A...
and Dr. Chillingworth were led away, captive, a. 
by their bitterest foe. The former betrayed no ' ‘5 'f
emotion whatever, but the latter rode with his
head hanging despondently upon his bn eat, and
tears of anguish tricklin slowly down his  ~
heard. It was more terrib e to know that his  ‘ " 4 “‘
daughter was in the power of this fiendish out- ’... “ ' .
law, as a woman, than it had been as an infant. ' . ‘
Then there was the possibility of rescue, but ‘ 

now— . , »
“Oh, God! the only ones who could help her 3 g
arlalhelp'lehstph belled gainst Pro 'd U i a '
e mig ave re a v1 enne,‘  
had he had the strength; but, crushed by his ~31-
great sorrow, he could only weep. I ~ . 5 .
With the face of a demon, The Red Hand had ’4- ‘? '
addressed his followers: ,   "‘
“Men, keep your wits busy while we march.“ "
The man who invents the most cruel torture 4%
shall receive promotion!” 0 ,_ v .-
And turning to his prisoners with a brutal  v
laugh, he added: ‘ _‘  
“ But I have a rare treat for you of myown‘  a,
devising. You shall witness our nuptials. Ha! . ..  
ha! ha! the law requires two witnwses, does it" a
not? But one formality we will be forced to 
dispense with—the priest! Ecod! we’re any- 
thing but priests, we free rovers! Ha! Ha‘! 
Ha! Ha!” ' -
These thoughts were tearing the heart of ' 3 
both lover and parent. The one Wept; the  '
agony of the other found expression only in the‘A .I

helpless! \ f v _ '
When they entered the defile which gave  ’ ‘
mittance to the robbers’ home, and saw :
huts, even the stout heart of The Stranger W‘
him; and his head sunk,upon his breast, while I,
his heart seemed rent asunder by a sob his.
firm-set lips would not let escape. mo ».
more and he should see her—oh God! in what-5g ’ 
li ht! s.  ,
p ‘gBut, suddenly, his ears are greeted hya 1-:9 V“.
rin ' g discharge of all-arms, followed_by,.
a rallying shout; and in his immediate vic _
cries of human agony and the shriekin
of terrified and wounded animals. .
wild confusion of a stampede suddenly cliched ,,
and thrown back upon itself, frantic oaths, duty"
perate commands, the rattling crack of  , _ , _
ers, and cheer u n cheer of triumphant '~ ‘5
ants. Then a eadlong scattering of 
inaddened horses, some bestridden, some  .
ess. . r ‘
From out the dust and smoke a ham,
dashed up to The Stranger. His bonds were



 

“ Put in a shot or two for the good of
ity!” shouted a voice; and , The

r recognized Dauntless {I erram 1;:
from is :5

“God bless you, boy! here is your WK

“War first and chin-music dten'ardi” "N.

The Stranger was not slow to take in

  
 

 
    
    

on gum M you mm “1 daughter, “But when he ts his sendofl I’ll vs a nation. A score of men with Bathtless ‘ :
37°“  3°“ m“? d in?” Ed ’ M . at their head. had evidently 
The V ed .111! 130° W “Yes. if I don’t conclude to settle accounts the stronghold and set an em 
fiflfl’mfi with malignant “mph “‘1 mag? With my own hand. But is that all  The of 
. - v . ,. dug 1; tion V menw m
" Never!” he cried. with something of his old “Have on anything elseto 7’. that 3‘23“ m
I vision ‘fI have you both. curse you! in hav- “Momyyr: give I ButI 32;” waI‘f  I M.
w '. if)» ,. -.I,‘~‘\ I \I IIII II\ II \‘I’ / '\. . I I ’I  II I  I ‘\ I I I I I I
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dered almost unmanageable, and the fight
 into a mad chase about the glen—a run-

~ j .1 mpg massacre! »

4:, Only‘one of the robbers fou ht on the offen-
i  sive. It was Poker Tom. e Stranger saw
3 9;. " him ur like the wind toward Nebraska Larry,
l  " ~  as if ride him down. The traitor horse-thief

:  “ fired at his assailant, bringin his horse all in a
 ' ' heap,to the ound. But oker Tom slipped
. from the sadt le, ali hting upon his feet, and
aiming across the of his writhin animal,
rforated Nebraska liarry’s breast. ounding
, a orward, he drew a knife, and the next instant
 * swung aloft the reeking scalp of his fallen foe,
" " with a wild Camanche war-whoop.
’ But it was his last. The Stranger had now
” urred his horse within ran e; and his uner—
. » nng aim laid the gambler a quivering mass upon
9' -, theground.
-’ Later Dauntless Jerry was chasing a robber
 a b' the litter on which lay the helpless chief.
, ' Red Hand raised upon his right elbow de-
.  spite the excruciating ain that darted rom
~ "his shattered hand, an

   
  
   
   
   
   
     
    
     
 
   
    
  
  
 
 
  
       
 
 
 
   
  

ing his throat, and a pistol at his ear. Then
\ there was a iercing shriek:
' “Stop! top! It is your father!”
I A woman With streaming hair, rushing from
,x the direction of the huts, threw herself upon The
} W’s arm, breaking his hold 11 the
,, throahgfb'lg‘ifi Red Hand, and forcing t e latter
' 1‘ II .
.v‘ Stranger recoiled, not fully comprehend-

the import of that cry. He saw the woman
1:; across the body of the robber chief. He
,3? saw the latter recover himself, and with an oath
plaeehis pistol at the head of the woman. He
sprung forward and prevented the murder, him-
pelf‘receiving a slight wound before he disarmed
‘ . the rufflan The woman raised her face up ap-

peelineg

« “Boat

and said:

, , kill him! He is your father!”

‘ ; Then wh of blood streamed from mouth
 n ' , her head dropped, and she was
 " - , the strug le for the possession of the pistol
 ad set his knee upon the broken
: leg of The ed Hand, and the latter had fainted
, " from the pain. Leaving him thus, The Stranger
‘3 raisedthe woman in his arms and bore her back
a; tothehuts. La 'ng her 11
'  the was a ready dea . From her bosom
,. I I  a miniature, suspended to her neck
 a n. As he caught sight of the setting
f“ ‘ , .heartgave a great bound. It wasa counter-
partto the one he had worn from infancy!
L‘Ihrning it over he saw that it was the picture
.. Ma'youug b0 . Then he drew forth his own,
’ I com it 'th the face of the dead. A
' ‘ 't s scrutin , and he fell sobbing n n his
covering t e unresponsive face wit tears

 1 mother! mother! found only to be lost
I” my" ' .

.. e..«

   
    
 
  
  
    
   
  
   
 
 
  
   
 
   
 
      
  
  
  
   
    
  
 
    
  
  

 

CHAPTER XXIII.
'1 ,' ma WRONG MADE RIGHT.
“libs dead?”
‘Deddasa nit; an’ it’s a doggauned shame;
V  was as peart a kid as ever handled shoot-
':  an’ would ’a’ made a boss sharp in

  you say? Dead i—Dauntless Jerry

‘  Stranger brushed by the last speaker, and
 :beside the prostrate form. Dauntless
~‘ I la upon his side, his lips apart, his ex-
Wress 6 es just visible between the half-
j are was dust in his hair, on his
 " / andon his clothes.
,. ,5 x? _ a regretnt look, thinking how the blow
‘ ,‘31w3fldfall upon 1018., The Stranger knelt beside
*‘hing‘. :He took the cold nerveless hand in his;
that W his other hand beneath the serape—like
_ t which Jerry alwa wore huddled

    
    
  
  
    
   
 
 
 
  
  
    
    
 
 
 
   
   
  
   
 
   
   
 
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
 

shoulders, to feel if he heart et beat.
aqnick cry of surprise esca his ,
he turned his face to the crowd as i to
' ’. 'But chec himself, while a le
_ . m to lfls row and receded again, e
 -. the youth and' gazed into his face with
Won of wonder and mystiflcation.
‘2 is the matter?” asked one of the crowd,
‘4“ r, absently.

ht
 his stnan emotions.
‘  the arms and car-

The Stran
, youth in
., ghim to one of the huts, followed by the on-
' e . -- Having laid him on a bed, he tum-
to_ the ‘men who had entered the but and

Gentlemen, althtzieigh nearly a stranger, I am
. ’: ' y interes in the boy than an one
in the absemngeg’of his sister.

with
g'uder spirits yielded to his commandin
Who was left alone, as he desired, thong
‘ ' , behavior revoked much speculation.
"duties ca led them away, and soon
subject from their minds.
 wounded had to be cared for. Then
fl robbers who had survived, tiliIongh

Will you save

' s

r

 
   

._ aimed at the youth. ,
‘ , _( But The Stranger was upon him, a hand clutch- '

n a couch, he saw .

 

 

I/J'

l .
,u,

I
was reprieved, until the secret of Iola’s confine-
ment could be extorted from him. Next came
the burial of friend and foe.

When Nebraska La was raised, he gave
signs of life by a fain groan. Restoratives
were immediately applied; and when he became
conscious, he asked:

“Have you hanged The Red Hand?”

‘* No,” replied one of the men. “He’ll get
worse, if he don’t tell the doctor what he has
done with his daughter.”

“ Where is Dr. Chillingworth? Fetch him
here,” said Nebraska Larry, scarcely above a
whisper.

The doctor was brought. -

“Han that devil without delay,” said Larry.
“Your aughter is safe.”

“ Safe!” re ated the father. grasping the
hand of the ying man. “ In Heaven’s name,
where is she ?”

“ You will find her at home. I tracked her
with a hound. Bring The Red Hand before me,
and I will make him acknowledge all.”

The Red Hand was hurried into the room, as '

Nebraska Larry’s excitement was fast burning
his life away. At sight of the man who had
knocked him down, Larry raised uponhis elbow
about tospeak; but the robber chief anticipated
him with a lau h.

“Ha! Ha! a! 80 Poker Tom kept his
pledge; and I hereby proclaim him lieutenant,
as a eed. Pardner, your head would make a
fine— ooking wig—block. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

“ They laugh best who laugh last,” said Larry.
“ How does it please you to be balked at every
point? Your life-long enemies are uninjured
and triumphant, through my instrumentality;
for I put your neck in t e noose yesterday, just
as Inentrapped you and your cut-throats to-

ay!
“ You pitiful fool” retorted The Red Hand,
“these dead dogs, w 0 have snapped at my bid-
ding so long, are nothin to me. As for the tri-
umph of my enemies, w y don’t they hang me?
Ha! Ha! Ha! They dare not! They knowthat
the girl would starve. I shall make my terms
with them, while I hold her ashostage.”

“ You lie !” cried Nebraska Larry, exultantly.
“ I have balked you there; and in two minutes
I shall see your worthless neck stretched on you—
der tree, just before the window. Did it not oc-
cur to you that the hound could track you no
matter how carefully your trail was con ed?
I followed you to that secret cave; drew the
vines from the entrance; pried away the bowl—
der; and found the girl in terror, just aroused
from a ni htmare in which she thought herself
in your oathsome embrace. Ha! Ha! Ha!
Who laughs now? Gentlemen, away with him!
And hang him from yonder limb, where I can
see him!”

The truth of Nebraska Larry’s statement was
manifest. The Red Hand was struck dumb.
With a wild hurrah the men seized him, and
bore him beneath the fatal limb. The rope was
hastily ad'usted, and ready hands waited to
give the eath tu . Then Dr. Chillingworth
step before the oomed man.

‘ orace Clifton,” he said, his face twitching
neWously, “the enmity between us has been
bitter and of long duration. Before you die, I
wish to disclaim any hostility toward you, ex-
cept such as has grown out of the great wrong
you have done me. Here, in the presence of
hat God before whom you are so shortly to go,
I forgive you for that wrong! Have you any-
thin to say?”

“ es,” re lied The Red Hand. “ Let me see
my wife—t e woman who entered your house
as Mrs. Henderson, and whom they now call
Mad Kate.”

“ She is dead," re lied the doctor, solemnly.

“Dead!” repea the robber chief, with the
first manifestation of tender emotion.

“She died‘ Iwon your breast,” said Dr. Chill-

ingworth. hen The Stranger lifted her, she
was one.”

“ ere is a golden cross upon her neck.
Bring ittome.” ‘

It was brou ht.

The Red and touched it to his li , and

gazed upon it for a long time in deep t ought.
hen he raised his eyes and said:

“She loved me as woman never loved man
before; I wronged her as man never before
wronged the woman of his love! That she has
forgiven me all, I know, even though the Al-
mig ty has turned away.

Say to the man whom on call The Stranger
that his name is Horace lifton. He will bear
it, although it has been sullied by so base a
wretch as I, because it was given to him by a
mother who loved him better even than she
loved me; and I believe that she placed me be-
fore her God. Tell him, also, that he did not
kill the woman whom he knewas Dopna Pepita.
She lies yonder, under the name 0 Nebraska
Larry, waiting to witnem in death. I do not
blame her. I have been a ard masterto her
for a d n years.”

“ I have your son brought to you?”
asked the doctor.

“No; I do not wish tosee him. 'And now I
have but one word to so. to you. -Yon cannot
be igorant 0f the mot ve which has induced
my. trad bf youand yours. Before you mar,-

.. _V , - ‘ ,
, g, . , ‘, . , - ,
v ' ' ‘ ,I T' ._ . -

 Vol I.

ried her, Maud Belknap deliberately won my
heart only to cast it beneath her feet. I do not
pretend to say how far the sanctiOn of society
' affects the morality of sIch an action; but at
her door lies the resI onsibility of turning a
man, with the ordinary mixture of good and
bad in his nature, into a fiend! You may think
me already sufficiently bad, having deprived
my wife of her child, and courted another
woman while she was yet alive. But I took the
be, away from her because I thought her unfit
to ave him~—-but hero I acknowledge my error;
for I now believe her as pure a woman as ever
lived—and when I sought Maud Belknap I sup—
posed my wife was dead. I say again, then,
that she is responsible f or what. I am. She paid
her life for it; and I presume we are quits. In
so far as my revenge has extended to others, it
is perhaps right that it should be frustrated.

‘And now, gentlemen, all I ask of you is to
make quick work of mo!”

Sick at heart, Dr. Chillingworth, or, more
properly, George Kingslako turned away. It
was the signal for a tug on the rope, and the
next instant Horace Clifton, The Red Hand,
was writhing in the air.

Nebraska Larry, or, to use a name indicative
of her sex, the Countess Pepita started upright
in bed, at the sound of the “ Heave-ho! ’ that
signaled the execution of the robber chief.

“Die, you devil! die!” she cried, vcngefully,
and then sunk back dead. '.

But scarcely was The Red Hand in the air.
when George Kingslakc, as we shall now call
him, turnc< and cried:

“ Let him down! For God’s sake let him down
one moment!”

startled by his excitement, the men let go the
re . and the robber chief fell to the ground. ‘

‘ Oh, curse you! have you brought me back?”
he cried, when he recovered conscwusness.

“ I could not let you die before you had set-
tled one doubt,” said George Kingslake. “If
this is really my dau rhtcr, who is the man she
calls her brother? 0 course she can have no
brother; and yet they look most wonderfully
alike.”

“I do not know," re died The Red Hand. “ I
am as much in the dar as you. But I think the
girl herself can tell you.”

“Are you telling me the truth?” asked the
agonized parent.

“Before God, it is the truth I”.

“The boy is dead; .but I have the assurance
of the woman you call Pepita that my daughter
is at home. Do you believe that she spoke the
truth?”

“ She has certainly been at the cave where
your daughter was confined; and she has no
motive for deceiving you. And now have not
you tortured me enough? Take this accursed
{ope from my neck, and let me die by the bul-
et!”

“Gentlemen,” said George Kingslake, ~“in
mercy let us comply with this request. The
same end will be reached no matter by what
means his death is accomplished.”

With one accord the men threw down the
rope. Ten were then selected, who chose pre-
mred pistols at random, five of which were
loaded with blank cartridges; and The Red
Hand died with four bullets in his brain and a
wound on the side of the head, so accurate were
the shots.

The interrupted burial of the dead was now
resumed; and when the sun had passed beneath
the horizon, only The Red Hand, Mad Kate and
Dauntlees Jerry remained unburied. George
Kingslake had suggested that The Stranger, or
Horace Clifton, the younger, would wish to
provide sepulture for his parents.

All this time The Stranger had remained in
the but with the body of Dauntless Jerry. He
now came forth with a strange expression on
his face.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “I desire to have In
young friend buried apart from the rest. Wi
you ingulge me by digging hIS grave in yonder

ove .
nge indicated a. secluded spot, and the men set
to work.

When the message of The Red Hand was de-
livered, The Stranger was much affected, and
gave directions that litters should be prepared
on which his parents might be borne to the

cit .

Then he lifted Dauntless Jerry in his arms
and proceeded slowly and sadly to the grave.
George Kin lake betrayed little interest in the

boy. He fe t a sort of jealous of him. Who
was be? What had he been his daughter?
How came that strange resemblance be een

them?

Beside the open grave The Stranger laid down
his burden, and drawing from the still white
face a fold of the serape-like blanket which he
had thrown over it, he asked: ’

“ Would any one like to take a last look?”

One or two ste ped up out of curiosity; but
the rest felt litt e interest in a comparative
stranger. But Horace Clifton (to give him his
proper name) seemed doc 1 affected, and said:

“ Gentlemen if you wi eave me with him a
few minutes, i wil an in the grave, and be
.ready to start with you soon.” ‘

 

\ 7 /
4. ., 

“He placed the body tenderly in the  l
I ' ‘ x . , "'

. _ x I -
' i‘ 4 '.
A - , ~ ‘ 

 

 

_..T.-_ .-_

 

      
 
   
     
 

 

 

    

, dual”

‘when Horace Clifton had finished, “ wr you

. a .  . .
‘ 1, 9-‘(\L'~ - ‘
3“ ,. - ,.

' a

 gnaw . Tongs-j 2r  ; - - s ' ~.

)

A "Hard Crewdi or, Gentleman Sam’s Sister.

   

' 1 ' \ Hg A .6 . ".1" .H‘

 

,o. I.
ave; and while he knelt down beside it they
eft him in the gathering gloom.

George Kingslake was anxious to seek his
daughter; but a strange feeling seemed to bind
him to the son of his enemy, and he waited his
return from the grave of Dauntless Jerry. Now
he could account for the frown that had affected
him so strangely. It was the counterpart of a
never-to-be-forgotten frown which he had seen
on the face of Horace Clifton the elder more
than twent years before.

One nig t, before his marriage to Maud
Kingslake, he had sought her in the garden,
away from the dazzling light and 'heat of the
ball-room. She had suddenly
arms with a cry of terror. Then e saw Horace
Clifton, standing in the shadow of the vines
which clambered over a rustic summer-house,
his brows black with a frown of malignant
hatred which had been stamped indelibly on the
memory of his successful rival.

He had never pressed Maud for an explana—
tion of that scene. He had always supposed,
and he now know, that she had flirted with the
fiery Southerner, and then roused his fierce na-
ture by repulsing his suit.

When the son of his old enemy came slowly
back from the grove, George Kingslake extended
his hand and said:

“ Your father and I have been deadly foes for
nearly twenty ears; but let the feud go out
with his life. It us start anew to—day, and
start friends.”

Horace Clifton grasped the frankly proffered
hand, with an earnestness which made his eyes
h%d' pose t”h 1 “In; t

0 on re i ? e mi. nno ex-
press toy euphow heartin I accept.”

Then t e rocession took up the line of march;
for the anx10us father could not bear the delay
of waiting until morning. It was nearly day-
break when they reache< Dauntless J erry’s hut.
Impatient to see her, the father and lover urged
their horses forward. The found a light in the
hut; and as the approac ed, a shadow flitted
across the win ow curtain, the door swung
open, and Iola stood framed in the doorway,
peering out into the darkness.

“ Thank God!” In daughter, alive and well!”
cried George Kings ake; and spurring his horse
to the very door, he threw himself from the
saddle and clasped her in his arms.

Horace Clifton had generously held back, a1-
lowing the father to receive his daughter’s first
caress. He presently dismounted and came
within the ran of light. As soon as Iola
caught sight of im, she drew herself from her
father’s arms and cast herself upon her lover’s
breast.

“ Oh! Horace! Horace!” she cried, nestling in
his arms.

The father’s feeling Was a keen pang of. jeal-
ousy; but when the )air stood before him so
smilin and beautiful, 6 joined their hands and
gave em his blessing, with happy tears in his

eyes.

“ Didn’t I tell you I should be your promised
wife before you told me anything about your—
self?” lau hed Iola, mischievously.

“The (fiavelo ments of the last twen -four
hours have left) little "to tell,” replied orace,
smiling. “Years ago, when returning from
California, where I had made uite a fortune, I
fell in with a man in New Or eans who repre-
sented himself as a Spanish count, sojourning
in America with his sister, the Countess Pepita.
I was but a boy, and, bewitched by the girl’s
beauty, was soon engaged to be married to her.
Going to her house one evening, and not finding
her in the parlors, I into the garden in
quest of her. Hearing voices in an arbor, and
supposing it was she and her brother, I crept
upon them, intending to ’ve them a pleasant
surprise. Then I learned t t she was in reality
the wife of the self-styled count, and the sister
of a villain who was in company with them.

The plot was simply thisz—lmmediately after
our marriage, the real brother was to ap r in
the character of a disappointed lover an shoot
or stab me, when my money would go to my
supposed Widow to be divided among her pals.
I was so enraged that I confronted them, on the
impulse of the moment. They set upon me, and
in self-defense I shot at the count, whom you
have known as The Red Hand; but the Coun-
tess Pepita, now known as Nebraska Larr ,
lea before him, and receiving the shot, sunk,
life ess, as I supposed, in his arms. Knocking
down the brother, known as Ricardo del Selano,
I esca d. , A few weeks , I killed him in a

the character of Missouri Bill.”
d, my daughter,” said Mr. Kin ke,

clear 11 one mystery? IVho is this youth you
have ed your brother?”

Iola blushed to the roots of her hair, and then
laughing, hid her face in her lover’s bosom, and
$3.“ 2

“ Tell him, Horace, I can’t.”

“ You must know,” said Horace, tenderly
stroklng her hair “ that when I bent over
Dauntless Jerry, w om I supposed to be dead, I
discovered that it was a woman! My first
thought was— that it was a sister, which would
ac with;\Iola’s- statement that Jerry was

her brother. But when I took her into the
v I. i l t‘, .v " 't s ’

i'JJ,.:‘,'7‘." .,.’; ." .r." v, i: I ‘h l  ~‘ ._ *

nmg into his ‘

' meb

but she soon revived; for her wound was but a
slig t one, the bullet ranging along a rib and
stunning her for the time. She then astonished
announcing that she was neither brother
nor Sister, but Iola’s self in dis uise. Her mus—
tache was false; the blue spec on check and
chin were but a skillful imitation of shaven
whiskers in paint; her hair, eyebrows and lashes
were dyed with a dye which is easily washed off.
The discrepanc between long hair and short is
accounted for y the fact that, when she con-
ceived the notion of disguising herself as a man,
she had her long and beautiful blonde hair cut
off and made into a wig, which she could Wear

in her character of a woman, and leave off ,

when she personated Dauntless Jerry.

“All this was devised by my mother, who
had been an actress,” ursued Horace dwelling
tender] and reverent on the title of
ship. “ he object of ail this was, that as a man
Iola could pursue her quest of me freed from
the disadvantages she would have had to en-
counter as a woman. Now she shrinks from
having this episode of her life made public, and

refers that the world should believe that her

rother died. Of course the grave in the grove
is an em ty one; since Iola set out for home, to
remove
in her true character, before I filled it in. I
have out to add that on the few occasions when
Jerry and his sister were seen together, my
mother took the former character, a time being
chosen when her features could not be too close-
ly scrutinized.”

“ 1y children,” said Dr. Chillingworth,
grave y, “ I have a word in further explana—
tion. n revenge for the sli ht put upon him,

Horace Clifton stole our chi (1, our dear little .

May, through the instrumentality of his wife,
who gained access to our house as nursery gov-
erness, under the name of Mrs. Henderson.
The woman, as you know, afterward repented,
and made such amends to you, my child, as she
could, without breaking the oath by which her
husband had bound her.

“ While explanations are in order,” said Iola, ,
care to know that after my rescue :
from the cave by Nebraska Larry—or perhaps i
better, by Pepita—I came home here and as- j
sumed my disguise as Dauntlws Jerry: joined ‘

“ you may

Major Gravesend’s arty; captured the strong-
hold; and ambush the returnin robbers.”

“ By the way, what became o the major?”
asked Dr. Chilhn orth, with some anxiety.

N 0 one knew; ut later in the day the major
cargo to his friend, and taking him by the hand,
3m .

“ Dr. Chillin yorth—or I suppose I should
call on Mr. ' gslake—I wish to e ress to
you ow much I have valued and sti value

your friendship; and the regret I feel at the
necessity of partingj from you. But I now come
tosaygood- y; an intenminuteslshallbeon
my way to the Far West.”

“ W'hat ! Going away? But you have not
seen my daughter. And, ma'or, I wished to
have your company at her we ding, which is to
be the one happy event in compensation for my
lon ears of suflering.”

“ cuse me, my riend. Bear to her my
adieus and my earnest wishes for her future
ha pinem”

erhaps the spasm of pain which shot athwart

his bronzed visage gave George Kingslake some

rception of the situation. He did not press

im further; and they parted with a firm hand—

clasp. Then the major mounted his horse, and

rode away until he was lost in the splendor of
the setting sun, never once looking around.

Reader, what more is there to tell? The
wronged are ri hted in their children. When
George Kin e weeps reverent] over a ten—
der memory, his tears are ki away by a

resent bri ht reality; and he forgets the old

orace in e new.
THE END.

 

 

OLD

Nick Whiges’ Yarn.

BY CAPT. J. F. C. ADAMS.

 

THE character of Old Nick Whiflies is happily
illustrated in this “ arn,” which was told at the
bivouac fire of a udson’s Bay man, on the
Saskatchewan. The party, commanded by the
noted Captain Green, and accom ied by the
celebrated hunter, Oregon Sol inc uded a couple
of young Englishmen named woper and Fitz—
srmm' ons—the latter “dubbed ” Persim' mons by
the men for his peculiar traits of character. Bot
were gullible to an extraordinary degree, and
many was the joke the rough men played on
the adVenturers, who were snobs even in the
Wilderness.

One evenin the voy rs put ashore near
“Blackfoot k,” and y had prepared
their cam when who should come in but Old

 

‘ «v  “ 7 3.

 

. Nick Whi cs! The camp was all hilarity then,
’ for the odd old hunter.Was known to every true
a I I . ' ‘ . l . I i ‘

- I,

relation- ‘

er disguise and be ready to receive us .

 

 

‘ \' ‘xr
. ... . .gfivg.
' . ‘,,ra$’,> ., ~- ~
g 0 hp, 2,“  .ait’ A? y *

  
  
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
  
    
 
    
  
   
   
 
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
 
 
   
  
   
  
  
    
    
  
   
          
    
   
   
   
      
  
  
  
  
   
    
   
     
    
    
     
   
  
   
   
 
   
  
   
   
     
    
   
    
    
   
    
  
   
   
   
 
 
  
    
   
  
    
     
 
    
 
 
  
      
 
 
 
         
   
 
 

' trapper and guide from Pembina to the Colum.
’ bia, and Green gave him such a welcome as he
deserved. Though Nick “fought sh ” of the ,
Hudson’s Bay people, he greatly “ rose to”' ~~'
some of their parties, and especially to that of
which his “ old par-d,” Oregon Sol, was a lead—
ing member. From him he was willing to re- .-
ccive supplies of tobacco and ammunition and '
to him was willin' to sell his store of c oice
skins, for Old NiC' never bothered “common
‘ critters” like wolves and muskrats. He was
the beaver hunter par excellence of the North—
west, and his stock of furs was sure to be~
choice. . 
On this particular occasion it was hardly ~ ,-
‘ dark, when the smell of cooking meat filled the
air, and the employees of the Hudson Bay Com-
pany gathered around the blazing camp-fires to ‘ gm
enjoy the food which had been prepared for ' ‘
their evening meal.
It was an interesting and leasing sight to see- ‘
these rou Th, hardy men of t 1e woods, attendi
to this “ uty," with the same earnest vigor tha
they did to paddling their canoe up and down /‘ _
the Saskatchewan and its branches. . x ”, "
_i The light from the camp-fires was reflected
far out upon the river, and revealed the shadowy
outlines of the great mass of stone, on the oppo-
‘ site side the stream, rising to the hight of one
hundred feet and giving the name to the locali- A! .
‘ ty. Grim and huge and silent, it stood lik) "
some giant sentinel keeping ward and watch I
over this gateway to the solitudes of the North— "’
west. - ‘ ' .
The meals finished, and the hunters gathered 7“.
in groups in all the abandon of animal enjoy- - 5 .'
ment, and lolling and 1 ing upon the grounga LI .‘
smoked their pipes, told heir stories and q ‘ ' . 
‘ each other. — .. ' ‘
There was scarcely one amon them who was
1 not well acquainted with Nick 'hiflles and who .,
g was not glad to see him. He had passed around r a;
i the entire Iparty, shaking hands and exchanging ’ x 3 v .,
words wit each in turn; and now, asthe even-_ «. . 7
ing was more advanced, he and Oregon.Sol,. , 1..
were seated near each other by the upper-0mg g 
fire, both in that easy position so natural ' 
hunters. Both were smoking pipes, as indeed‘gv”
was nearly every member of the party, include ~ . 
ing Captain Green, a dozen trappers, and Fitzw s. .
Simmons and Swo r, the latter two displaying» ,-.,'
handsomely carve meerschaums. .  )
Conversation ran along in a desultory sort of   '
way, during which some three or~four gay 
some account of their adventures in differengrfi» "
portions of the Northwest, until the evening": a
was pretty well advanced, when Captain Green; ‘
suddenly turned to Nick with the question:' ,1 1, v.
“ Can you tell me why this place is known it  , ‘
Blackfoot Rock? I have often wondered tomy ‘ r ,
self, when I have heard its name mentioned,:or»~ "
have been passing by it. I have asked several.
of o,ur men, but there are none that our”
V
“ It takes its name from that rock over there ’—". ._
replied Whitnes, indicating the rock to 
he referred by a mere glance of his eyes. « _
“Of course,” replied the captain, with a" If;
laugh; “but I mean to inquire whether you an v .3,
tell what the circumstance or legend '15 that i
gave the name to the rock itself and by which
it has been known for so many years?” . ‘-
“ I heered the story some twenty years
when I wasn’t quite as old as I '

 

 

3!;

am now; it wu‘ ‘3, .—
told me by one of your hunters on the North ’ "
Fork of the Saskatchewan—Black Dish, tint,
was froze to death the next year, while _, ‘
ping in Oregon. He had heard it when
was a boy, from another very old hunter, who
seed the sarcumftancest tEat give gse t2:
name,so ousee ’Ve o i purtys  ’ .
it’s a rough story and ‘rn afeared that ' _I tell
to ou to-night it’ll give you a p?ison 
in he way of sleepin’ to-night.” J _ ,.
This protest, stated in such words, very nag».
rally aroused greater curiosity than ever,
all insisted so strongly upon hearingthe ‘ '
that Nick could not refuse; and .filhng up r ,
pipe, and assuming the easrest attitude possible,
e told the following - '
- LEGEND or BLACKFOOT ROCK,~‘ =g ,
“It must have been more than a hundred
Eggs agdo that the Blackfeet down among 
ky ountains of Oregon got into a W
over something, and had such a fight that“ *
flft of ’em had to ‘ out, to save their
an they started 0 for some (new
where they might take each other’s pf“ 
peace and quiet, and where they might play ‘ _ ;
manner of pleasant devrltry, without 
other folks interferin’ with ’em. Itis 
find such a lace in this World, for white. , l
or black f0 it is, by mi hty! and‘it 
some time afore the anim' es could V H ..
such a lovely spot, but they hit it at last, ,  
here was the place.” . , I 4  g-i‘ a
“ Where we are encamped just now?”  _
Captain Green. , ’ , 4“er
‘ Not quite this one spot alone, but all  -
here like. think, one of causes of“
settling here was that rock; Have you. : ;
been to the top of it?” * J I, .
“Never,” replied sevenll of the group, '
inlg-l across the river, at the  * s "
w 'le the captaina ‘ v ‘ 
“ I always W2

:« ,;«,.,

 

   
  

  
  
 

 

 . --\-

The “N... York I Library.

V01. In I

 

 

it could not be climbed. It seems to be one per-
pendicular mass of solid stone.” '
w ,. ' “So it is in front and the rear looks the
". same, but there is a place, out of sight till you
‘ , ’ make a purty good hunt for it, b which you
 can make your way to the to . ’ve been to
the top a half-dozen times, an when you’re u
£5. there, you get a bigger view than on ever h
f' ' afOre. I don’t know how it is, or we’ve all
7; 1“.  been up on the mountains, lift times higher
f~'. ' , than that is, and we’ve all see’ a condemned
. / \lot of kentry stretched out before us; but it
. must be that the land slopes away in every di-
. rection from Blackfoot Rock, or else on
wouldn’t git such a big view from the top 0 it.

  

 
  
   
   
  
    
  
 
 
 
    
   
  
  
  
 
  
 
 
   
     
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
 
  
   
 
    
  
   
 
  
   

1

do doubt that it was on that account that this
little band of red-skins that I’m telling ou
’bout fixed on this neighborhood as the best
lace for them to enjoy themselves as a real
di%n likes to enjoy himself.
.. “ ousee they was afeared the rest of their
‘ ‘s . ple, that they had sich a condemned diffi-
. if, . ty with, might take it into their heads to fol-
 "  leron arter ’em, and settle up the grudge. So
-  ._ wthey made it a pint to have a warrior go up to
~;“*‘“ the top of the rock every morning noon and
’-'~ , night, to see whether any of their old enemies
F 1 were trying to steal a march onto ’em. ’Cause
' a winter and summer passed awa , without
catching a glimpse of an of ’em, t ey didn’t
 up their minds that he wasn’t never go-
ing to come, but they kept t eir watch just as
- fielose as ever.
J “80 things went on till the dead of winter
‘3 ; ' and when that comes in these arts, you
.' how it’s winter and no mistake. here ain’t
" * any'foolin’ ’bout it. The Hudson Bay Company
 owned all the country through here then, and a
_ ads-ed ears before it, jist as they own it
-* , an it wasn’t long before these varmipts
'. found that they had a pretty good thing of it.
. Beavers and otters, and foxes, and martins, and
iii-Al], sorts of me was as plenty as anybody
at“. pould want it to be, and the got good prices for
‘ ' their ltries, so they wo dn’t wanted things
7 any mcer, if they could only felt that the other
 . ,, I wouldn’t come down to raise a con-
4-  "damned dilflkilty with ’em.
'. “’Twas in the dead of winter, when one day
~just as it was growin dark, the sentinel that
,_ (Slim to the top 0 the rock spied a light
- ' about ten miles to the south’ard that he had
: never see’d afore, and which he didn’t know
' what to make of. He signaled to two or three
; More, to come egitp, and though the night was
mxof the cold that they ad ever had in
,  this‘ part of the world, they staid on to the
”  morning, without any fire an with
“king but 'their blankets, watching that fire
andtrying to learn what it meant.
 "'f‘j‘They was a pack of condemned fools to do
, ..  fur a light ten miles off, if it doesn’t go
7  , isn’t apt to look like much of anything else
M night. It kept burning all the time just the
~ m ,90 they made up their minds that it was a
’ flue! their enemies, who had startedto
- _’em91t.” ,

 I should think that some of their runners
Vlllld have reconnoitered the camp during the
,  and found out to a certainty the identity

‘ power of the stran ers,” remarked Captain

; , ' who, like the ot ers, was listening with

interest to the narrative of the trapper.

’s the identical observation I made to

A j k Dick when he told me the story, and he

‘, 7 he had remarked the same to the old trap-
" fiat had told the yarn when he was a boy

,  he didn’t get a satisfactory answer. So i

can‘t 've you a g reason why the Black-

'  , ’15 do that thhfg, which it seems would

  
 
    
 
  
 
  
  
  
 
   
   
 
  
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
   

. beenvery natural for ’em to do. There
ty of snow on the ground, and they
havo made the ten miles there and the ten
' back sign without an trouble, but they
choose do it ’cause sup they was
’ h who the condemn ints was
. to all that trouble. al, when
j ' come about twenty warriars took a
squint cm the top of the rock, and it didn’t
secgnd lance to see that an amazing

th

' v

       

         
    
  
  
    
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
  
  

 

  

need a
j the enemies was coming for ’em

' ' sine
m ey see’d that, of course they had a

to what was best to do. many
to rock 113) and further north, but
_ -~. otsai no,-—-t eir pursuers coullldafio
y could, and they would have to e
‘ -v w and fight somewhere, and they couldn’t
apiece II good as this. So the concluded
' :p ontop of the rock, taking heir provi-
, h ’01:), and then their fees might bang
.  they got tired.
‘z; spent all day in gettin ready, and
heir $‘h come, the other Blac feet to the
number of a hundred a peared on this side the
2 ,-crossed over on t 6 ice, and surrounded
 In the mornin they commenced
- errors, and e a rush to get us
freer  but they didn’t try it the secon

     
 
   
  
 
 
 

they of,
, and there’s where they
had to top of

   

~~ , I l ‘I_ 1.
latent .- ., .

   

But that ain’t the question just now, though I’ve ,

 

 

that that would be the way the business would
be fixed.

“ s it kept snowing half the time, they man—
aged to keep off thirst, but arter awhile their
provisions give out, and then the rough times
come. They had swore not to eat each other, as
white folks do, when they get cotched foul in
the same we , and they kept their oath. When
they found at there was no gettin’ out of the
muss, one of the warriors proposed that they
should all commit suicide, and he set the ex-
ample b jumping from the rock out upon the
river. ’the ice was eighteen inches thick but
he struck it so hard that he made a clean hole
and shot out of sight. The next Blackfoot did

the same, aiming so well, that he went exactly "
into the same hole, and then the others follered, '
all aiming so straight, that they p0 .pcd through i

the openin , one after another, e a lot of
shoe jum mg over a wall.

“ ut t ey didn’t all do that. The last one
that was left was the biggest warrior of the
whole lot. When he walked to the edge of the
rock to foller the others, he looked over, at the
hole in the ice, a hundred feet below him, into
which all his brothers and sisters, and uncles
and aunts, and cousins, had gone, and he shook
his head, and he said be rather thought not. It
was his opinion that the rest was a pack of fools
and he turned back, climbed down the rock, an
makin his way out among the other Blackfeet
he axe ’em to give him a chaw of tobacker and
something to eat.

“ You see he’d been up there in the snow and i ,
. stone and go to work turning the cran .
i would shoot in all (lll‘(‘(‘tl( us with facility and

cold so long that he was bleached almost white,
and he looked so queer and foolish like that the
other red-skins hadn’t the heart to hurt him,

and so they took him and nursed him and fed 
him,——but they suffered for it, and it placed them

in the condemnedest difiikilty they ever dreamt
of. That chap was so hun
’nough to eat. He put himse 15 outside of every-

thing they could catch and shoot, and done it so ;
fast that afore they knowed it, all the rest of i
the Blackfeet had starved to death, and he was f

alone and master of the situation.”

“ What become of ’im heventuallyl” inquired
youn Swoper.

“ ever went under; he’s living yet in these
parts. I’ve see’d him often.”

“ You don’t sa ,” remarked Fitzsimmons.
“What does he 100 like, and how does he act?”

“ The last time I see’d him, he was disguised
as an Englishman, and was carrying
with him and looking south for north, couldn’t
get ’nogh to eat, and went by the name of Per-
simmonsi”

The laugh that followed was a roar, and .the

floor Englishman was an astonished man. How »

ad that old wood tramp
only of his name but 0
How did he know Fitz carried a compass and
made it a “
before him?
him into a silence which only added to the
comic effect of the whole proceeding.

Oregon Sol’s eyes, if their expression of quiet
humor could have been read, would have be
tra ed Nick's source of information.

ith that yarn Green ordered all men to
their blankets; and when the morning came,
and Fitz looked around for his slanderer, he
was nowhere to be seen.

At break of day Old Nick had vanished, even
more silently than he had come.

become possessed not

 

BEAT TIME’S
Ordnance Department.

WHEN I was chief of the ordnance de rt-
ment during the war, I spent most _of my ime,
and a good deal of my ingenuity, in perfecting

arms.
The first thing which I did was to improve a
thirt -two pounder. I im roved it greatly—
that to say, I scoured it a 1 over and took the
rust off—it was very black. .
Next, in view of so many guns bein spiked
du ‘ a battle when the gunners wen to din-
ner, had a batte of ten cast without
vents, so there wo d be no possibility of their
ever bein spiked. When the battery went into
action inghe next battle it was discovered that
the couldn’t touch them off—a little matter
tha had escaped my mind; so there was noth-
ing left to do but have the guns condemned, or
to invent a cartridge that would go 01! Without
touchin . I had the guns condemned.
Thengl invented a carbine that would shoot
strai ht along without stop ing. It was a
n success. I armed a regllnent with them
€11.12, while they went off whenever you wanted
them to, the trouble was they also went off
when you didn’t want them to. They were
afterward used to throw at the enemy, and
‘Were found to be very serviceable for that pur-
better than anythi else.

 

eleven 1 ion -that would tely shoot
clenrou of t. The trouble was, however,
My 1, the soldiers who carriedthem

' hu‘ -.<“.’*f 7‘. A, i
-. ' vi 1’ ~- art’s-r 

he couldn’t get ,

 

a compass '

his very peculiarities? ,
. know now what reason the men had for not un-
int ” to eat all that was placed i
hat puzzled the snob and awed '

 

54'  ~

   
 
  

got into a fight, the would shoot out of sight
hemselves. lt wou d hit a man five miles so
quick he wouldn’t know it; that was the worst
of it—he would never find it out.

I reorganized a fuse cannon—that is, I did

’ awa with the fuse. However, it was re-fused

by t _16 Board

'I invented a_ very complicated gun, with a
View of dispensmg with so much powder, but it
worked too well; it dispensed with more pow-
der than we could haul to it.

I throw all my energy into the reduction of

; a rifle that would astonish the lods of \Var
1 themselves, and succeeded. A full discription

of this wonderful gun Would fill two volumes of
the size of Webster’s Dic., so I won’t d( scribe
it. It was very complex, and it was also in-
volved in (‘ndless ccm illCOblOllS. But the corps
which was armed \\ ith tlicm found, after avcry
careful test, that the stocks were given to flying
off and the balls tostaying in thc larrel. An
order was issued for the guns to Le reversed in
the next fight, that is, to 1 oint the stocks at the
em my and fire, but, so many men were slaugh-
torcd in this way, that the foreign nations
deemed it contrary to the rules of war, and it
was abandoned, at their urgent request.
_As revolvers are so apt to go cfl‘ on all occa-
Sions, I perfected a new style which wouldn’t
0 off even when you wanted it to, and the
‘arcrs could be just as careless as they pleased.
It in as a very healthy revolver.
I got up a revolving mitrailleuse, all that was
necessary was to attach it to the nearest ind-
It

danger. The trouble alout that u as, it took so
many men to work it. Whenever one took hold
to work it he would drop as if he u as shot, and
upon examination it was found that he certain-
ly was. It would take a regiment of mm to
work it an hour, and so on up. The soldiers got
discouraged, and rather objected to work it; so
we allowed it to be captuer bv the cncmy, who
fired at us all the next day with it, and then we
went over in the evening and buried ll.“ In all.

I ncxt invented a torpedo, a most beautiful
thing as a work of art and a means of death.
It was filled with half a barrel of nitro glyce-
rine, and had a 1 ercussion—cap on one end of it,
and nicel gilt handles at the sides. It was
designed be carried by seven men who, dur-
ing a battle, would grab it up, run straight to
the rebel genernl’s hmdquartcrs with it, where
he would )0 sitting on a camp-stool, there sct
it down, u hilc each of the seven would grab
the general forcilly, sit him astridc the torpedo
and hold him there, while the eighth man, who
would be nlon with a hammer for the pur-
pose, would st ' e the cap and the rebel eneral
would go to see his grandmother. But, don’t

dertaking the job, although I told them I would
send them—not lead them, mind.
What I have done for my country nobody
ever will know.
Proudly,

BEAT Tnm.

 

THE ORIGIN OF THE CIGAR.

The devil one day in a sad, listless mood,

Had laid himself down on the edge of a wood;

But, bent on some mischief, be cast his eyes round,
’Spled near him a bunch of coarse leaves in the

ground.
And pulllzid the tough things, which he crushed in

 

is s ,
Then trolled out, and worked at, and gave them a
wist,
Then rinncd at his work with satanic deliphti
With Ill: old brimstone tell he then struck up a
ig t,
Set the end of the weed with a spark all on fire,
And found the result all that man could desire!

E The stench that arose was s" horribly dreadful,
5 Bugs, beetles and spiders swooned of! by the hand

u .
“ Ha, he," said old Nick, “ now I‘m off to the city;
I‘ll kick up a row; if] don‘t more‘s the pity.“

From that day fortnwit there arose sue 9. din,
Nick wagg‘ed is old tail, looked on with a grin,
While now in each household the women made war
'Galnst Satan’s invention, the potent cigar. -
They were right; for the cash that was squandered

t at way
All ended at last in the devil to pay.

 

 

A DENVER journal records a case where a
Cliinaman “ was frostbith from this cold
world into the rosy future.”

A PERSONAL editor, two shot-guns and a flour
sack of assorted 33f, are said to complete the

s!

outfit of a Black newspaper office.
“SEE here, wife! you indulge that be too
much. He is aperfect mule.’ “Oh hus ndi

lease don’t accuse our boys of having an ass

or a father. ” The old man was silent.

A MAN who was rather rough in his manners
jocosel observed to a youngI lad that he was
about he married but as is actions were
divided between lss Mary Bi'ickdust and
Miss Betsey Primestulf, he was at a loss which
tochoose. “Iadvise .ou byall meam,” said
the lady, “to take ckdust—yon wm
We’ll - I v‘

1

./  
‘ .. " t' I ‘. ’ i

.. .v
- . i.‘ \.

 

 

w'iz‘l. ‘. .

No. 1.

The/Death-Shot; or, Tracked to Death.

27

 

The Death-Shot; or, Tracked to Death.

By Capt. Mayne Reid, Author of "Scalp Hunters,” etc., etc.

PROLOGUE.

A PRAIRIE, treeless, shrubless, smooth as a
sleeping sea. Grass upon it; but so short, that
the smallest quadruped might not cross over
Without being seen. Even a. crawling reptile
could scarce find concealment among its tufts.

Objects are upon it—sufliciently v151ble to be
distinguished at some distance. But they are
of a character scarce deservin a glance frOm
the passing traveler. He woul hardly deem it
worth while to turn his eyes toward a. pack of
prairie wolves—coyotes—much less go in chase
of them.

With vultures soaring above he might be
more dis osed to hesitate and reflect. The foul
birds an filthy beasts, seen together would be
proof of rey—that some quarry had fallen
upon the p in. It might be a stricken stag, a
prong-horn antelope, or a wild horse crlppled

y son 6 mischance due to his headlong nature.

Believing it any of these, the traveler would

've loose rein to his steed and ride onward;
eaving the beasts and birds to their banquet.

There is no traveler passing over the prairie
in question; no human being in sight. But
there are wolves grou (1 upon the round, and
vultures hovering in t e air above t em.

And not miseen by human eye. For there is
one sees—one who has reason to fear them.

Their eager, excited movements show that
they are anticipating a repast; at the same time
thelr attitudes tell, they have not yet com—
menced it. '

Something appears in their midst. At inter-
vals they approach it: the birds swoopineg
from above, the beasts crouchingly along the
sward. They go close, ahnost to touching it,

 

E,

«

 

 

 

then suddenly withdraw, starting back as in t soar up again! The strange thing seems to uz-

afl’right!

After a time they return again, but only to
be frayed as before. And so on, in a series of
ap roaches and recessions.

Vhat can be the object thus keeping them off? ,

Surely no common quarry, as the dead body of
deer, antelope, or mustang? It cannot be this;
nor yet carcass of any kind. It camiot be a

thing alive. Seen from a distance it resembles

l

l

‘ turn in their sockets.
thing that is dead. Nor does it look like any- i

a human head; nearer, the resemblance grows ,‘

stronger; close up, it is complete. Certainly, it
is a human head—the head of a man!

What is there to cause surprise?
head seen upon a Texan prairie!
lying there seal less. It would only prove that
some ill—starre hidividual—traveler, trapper,
or hunter of wild horses—has been struck down
by the savages; and afterward decapitated, as
well as scalped.

But this head—if head it be—is not scalped.

A man’s

It still carries its hair—a fine chevelure, waving ‘_
the ground, I
would, abandone , after being .

and profuse. Nor is it lying alon
as it naturally
despoiled of its trophy. On the contrary, it
stands erect upon the sward—the chin almost
touching the surface—square, as if still upon
the shoulders from which it has been separated!
With cheeks pallid or blood-bedaubed, and eyes
closed or glassy, this—the position—need not
so much surprise. But there is neither pallor
nor blood-stain on the cheeks; and the eyes are
not closed, not glassed. The are glancing—
glaring—rolling. By heavens. the head is alive!

No wonder the wolves start back in affright;
no wonder the vultures after swoopin down
ply their wings in quiclr, nervous stro e, and

Nothing, if =

 

 

zle both—baffles their instinct, and keeps em
at bav.

Still know they, or seem to fancy, ’tis flesh
and blood. Sight and scent tell them it is; by
both they cannot be deceived.

And living flesh it must be? A death’s head
could neither flash its (yes, nor cause them to
Besides, the predatory
creatures have other evidence of its being alive.
At intervals there is 0 gened a mouth, showing
two rows of white teeth. From between comes
a shout that startles and sends them afar.

The cry is only put forth, when they approach
too threatenineg near—evidently intended to
keep them at a distance. It has done so for
most part of the da .

Twilir‘t approae 'ng, spreads its purple tints
over the prairie. It is on. There is no change
in the at‘ itude of the assailed, or assailants.
There is light enou h to show the flash of those
fiery ‘yes: whose g ance of menace still masters
the voracious instincts of the animals.

Strange spectacle! The head of a man, With-
out any body—set square upon the ground;
with eyes in it that scintillate and see, a mouth
that opens, and shows teeth; a threat from
which issue sounds evidently of human intona-
tion: around this object of 81 lost supernatural
aspect, a group of gray WU. 'es, and over it a.
flock of black vultures!

Through the day, and intc twili ht, the tab-
leau remains unclmngcd. Cw .y a c ange in the
disposition of the figures—in the attitudes of
the beasts and birds. The head keeps its pa :0
and position. It makes no motion, save the
Eafiting of the lips, and the rolling of the eye-

a s.

w . ,
‘s'- \r‘ . t . . \

   
  

U. , " a. .{

r.\ r, V  ~,. u‘

 

The New York Library- " ' ' I

 

 

    
 
  
   
   
  
    
 
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
   
   
  
   
   
     
  
  
   
   
   
 
   
   
    
   
   
     
 
    
 
   
   
  
 

obliqiu'ty in the sun’s diurnal course, to lengthen !
out t e day. When the golden orb sinks behind
. the horizon a short-lived light of purplish tint

' succeeds—then n'fht.

Night approac es. It is on.

With the darkness comes a change. The vul-
tures, obedient to their customary habit—not
'. nocturnal—take departure from t e spot, and
, v wing their way to some well-known roosting-

lace. On the contrary, the wolves stay. Night
is the time best suited to their ravening instincts.
, -Under its shadows they may have more hope of

I at length devouring that thing of spherical
'shape, that by shouts and scowling glances has 1
colon held them aloof.

[To heir discomfiture, the twilight is very
soon succeeded by a magnificent moon; whose ,
'  silvery efl’ulgence shed over the prairie almost ,‘

‘ equals the light of day. It shows the eyes yet i
‘1 " angrily glancing; while in the nocturnal still— 
- “ness that'cry, sent through the parted lips, is as i

, ,We-ins mng as ever.

It ' keeps the assailants at bay.

And, now, more than ever, does the tableau 1
tappear strange—more than ever unlike reality. 3
.- ' rider the, moonlight, with a filmy haze spread i
 , over the rairie sward, the human head seems i
I ' to the dimensions of the Sphinx; !
‘ w, ', from the same cause, the coyotes look as ‘
, , as Canadian stags!

' - truth, a singular spectacle—one full of
‘ " Weird mystery!
, _, 6- Who can explain it?

I

I __

 » ' ' ‘ CHAPTER I.
a} TWO soars or SLAVE-OWNERS.
' T. It! the, old slave-owning times of the Southern
_'. United States—happily) now no more—there
" was, much grievance humanit ; roud op-
ression upon the one side, and sad s ering on

1 I r.
- . Y- ? ,Itie‘ true, that the majority of the slave pro-
.x ‘ were humane men. Some of them even ;
, , nthropic, in their way, and inclined to- ’
giving to the unholy institution a color of
 ' rchism. The idea—delusive, as intended
. ,delude—is old as slavery itself; at the same
V  modern as Mormonism; where it has had
, its is and coarsest illustration.
v  Wait cannot be denied. that the slavery
ofithe' tea was in many instances of a mild
’ type, neither can it be usstioned, that there
 of lamentable ness—even to in-
There were slave-Owners who were
., ‘ I, an slave—owners who were cruel.
.FJlot far from the town of Natchez, in the
Staten! Mississi pi, lived two planters; whose
li’ves-fllustmted t e extremes of hese two types.
 estates lay ad'acent their charac-
 as ofpposite as co (1 wel be conceived
' ‘ , o manhood and morality. Colonel
Armstrong—a true Southerner of the
' aristocrac , who had entered
State when 8 Choctaw Indians
it—bwas a model of the kind slave-
‘ ‘ ' ";‘ while Ephraim Darke—a Massachusetts
O“ 'who had moved thither at a much later
‘ ' imen of the cruel. Com-
land States, sprimg from
 p e whose descendants have
I ‘, both profession and sacrifice in the cause
. , ' emancipation—this may seem strange.
$1: owever acommon tale; which no trav-
, through the Southern States can help hear-
‘ . Every day will he be told that the hard-
Lfiskmaster of the slave is either one who has
been a slave himself, or a descendant of the Pil-
, J'nthers, who landed on/Plymouth Rock!
, a respect for many nits in the charac-
tact, same ' 'm athers I would fain
the accusation untrue, and that Ephraim
_ was an excgptidn.
 case, there was no falsehood in it—
 whatever. Throughout the Mississi pi
. m, there was nothing more vile than
Wt of the black bondsmen whose hard
WNW“ to have him for their master. Around
, and in his cotton-fields, the crack of
i, p was heard almost continually—its
' sharply felt by the sable-skinned Victims ,
11' ca rice orn‘iaice. The “cowhide” was
‘ nemstan y carried by himself, his son, and over-
seer; None of the three eVer went abroad with-
out that pliant, inted switch—a very emblem
of devilish crue ty'—-in their hands; never came
“hemewithout having used it in the castigation
of some unfortunate “ darkey,” whose evil star
[thrown him in their track, while making
rounds of the plantation. _
' ,m the very reverse with his neighbor,
glbdd‘ Armstrong—whose slaves seldom
' kind without a rayer upon their lips,
“said, “God bress 9 good massa;" while
- .a) n whi 1fled bondmen of Ephraim Darke,
'-- ~ ks st) smarting from the lash, night]
' down, not always to sleep, but always wit
: on their lips. o .
,ltheoldsto ,of like cause brin ng
Ete‘mlsmult. is w  (filtronicl in
0 man 0 e ev p
Ans.

   
  
    
  
   
    
  
  
 
   
  
   
   
     
    
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
  
    
 
 
    
     
   
     
    
  
 
 
  
   
   
  
  
  
    
   
  
 
 
    
 

  
 

  

  

  
 

 

  
  
 

' Clancy—son of a decayed

 

 'of‘God decay . uClolonelin BS.
. v'l ' .H’. I" ,  a 
.. , yeclfeumide the momentum:

’
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,-
.x
'3, '

  

“N'fi-f‘its. ~- \

. On a Texan prairie twilight is short. There ’ from the culture of his cotton-fields. In time be
are no.mountains or high hills intervening—no g became the debtor of Ephraim Darke, who lived

within his.

There was not much intimacy or friendship
between the two men. The roud Virginian,
come of an old Hi bland fami y—gentry in the

‘colonial times—f6 t some contempt for his

neighbor, a descendant of the Mayflower steer-
age passengers.
For all this, he was not above accepting a

‘ loan from Darke, which the latter had been

eager to 've. The Massachusetts man had long
coveted t e Southerner’s fine estate; and knew
that a mortgage-deed is the first entering of a
wedge, in time pretty sure to bring about pos-
session of the fee simple.

So stood thin between these two neighbor-
ing planters. arke had determined on becom-
ing the proprietor of both plantations; while
the affairs of Armstrong, gradually wing
desperate, had at length reached a ponit that

romised his nei hbor all he had been scheming
0 Obtain. The ( ebtor had fallen behind in the

. payment of interest. The mortgage could at
i any moment be foreclosed. Colonel Armstrong

was in danger of losing his estate.

At this crisis came a circumstance, likely to
modify, if not altogether defeat, the design of
the creditor. Ephraim Darke had a son ap-

roachin manhood, by name Richard, by na-
gure like himself, only of a still inferior t e of
humanity. For the grasping selfishness o the
extreme Puritan is not improved by mixture
with the opposite extreme of Southern licen-
tiousness; and in the character of Richard
Darke the two were commingled. Mean in the
matter of personal expenditure, he was at the
same time of dissi ted and disorderly habits;
the associate of t c poker-playing and cock—
flghtin fraternity of the neigh r 00d; one of
its wil est youth, without an of those generous
traits sometimes cou led wit such a character.

He was Ephraim arke’s only son—therefore
heir-presumptiVe to all his property—slaves and
plantation. Being thorou hly in his father’s
confidence. he was aware o the probabilit of a
proximate reversionto the slaves and plan tion
of Colonel Armstrong.

But, much as Ric ard Darke liked money,
there was something he coveted more. This
was Colonel Armstron ’s daughter. There were
two of ,them Helen an Jessie, both pretty girls.
Helen, the e der, was more than pre ty s e was
beautiful—bi all acknowledged as the beauty of
the neighbor ood.

Richard Darke was in love with her, as much
as his selfish heart would allow—perhaps the
onl unselfish passion he had ever felt. His
fat er sanctioned, or at all events did not op-
pose it. For this wild, wicked youth had gained
a wonderful ascendancy over a parent, who had
trained him to trickery equaling his own.

With the wer o creditor over debtor—a
debt that co (1 be demanded at an moment—
a mortga e tothe full amount an .not easily
transfe —the Darkes seemed to have the
vantage-ground, and might dictate their own
terms.

The son had been for some time paying his
attentions to Helen Armstrong, whenever an
opportunity occurred—at balls, barbecues, and
t e like- of late, also, at her father’s house.
There, e power spoken of gave him admit-
tance; while the consciousness of possessing it,
hindered him from noticin the reluctance with
which he was received. or all, he could not
fail to perceive, that his assiduities were coldl
met by her to whom his homa was extend .

He wondered why, too. He ew that Helen
Armstrong had many admirers. It could not
be otherWise with one so beautiful, and, beside,
so gifted. But among them there was none for
whom she had shown the sli htest partiality.
This was notorious Darke ' self had con-
ceived a suspicion that a 1young man, named

rish gentleman, liv-
ing near— found favor in her eyes. Still, it
was but a suspicion; and Clancy had gone to
Texas the ear before—sent, it was said, by his
father, to 00k out for a new home. The latter
had since died leaving his widow sole occu t
of an humble nement, with a small holdin of
land near the borders of the Armstrong esta .

There was a report that oung Clancy was
soon coming back—was in eed, everyhday ex-
pected. But what could it matter? 9 proud

lanter, Armstrong, was not the man to bestow
his daughter 11 n a “ r white "—as Richard
Darke scornful

style his suspected rival.
Feeling confl ent of this as also in the van-
tage-ground he himself held, the suitor of Helen
Armstrong had resolved upon bringing things
to an issue. His love for her had become a pas-
sion, the stron r for being checked. Her cold-
ness might be ut coquetry. He ho d and fan-

‘cied it was; for he had no lack 0 either self-

esteem or assurance. And he had reason for
both. He was immense] rich, or would be
when his father died. 9 was not ill-looking,
but rather the reverse; and he had made more
than one conquest among the {gunfi ladies of
the neighborhood. It might , lss Arm-
strong’s haughty disposition hindered her from
being demonstrative? Perhaps she loved him

without 7 ‘
For mam bfipeogitating in this un-

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certain way, and had at length determined to
bring matters to a crisis.

One morning be mounted his horse; rode
across the boundary-line between the two plan-
tations, and on to Colonel Armstrong’s house;
requested an interview with the colonel’s eldest
daughter; obtained it; made a declaration of
his love;.asked her to have him for a husband;
and received for res use a chilling negative.

As he went back t ough the woods, the birds
were trilling among the trees. It was their
merry morning lay, but it gave him no glad-
ness. There was still ringing in his ears that
harsh monos 'llable “ no.” The wild—wood song-
sters seeme( to echo it, as if mockinglv; the
blue jay and red cardinal scolding him for in—
trusion on their domain.

After crossing the boundary between the two
plantations, he reined up his horse, and looked

ack. His brow was black with cha 'n; his
lips white with rage. It was suppresse no lon-
ger. Curses came hissing through his teeth,
alon with the words~

“ 11 less than six weeks these woods will be
mine; and (1— me if I don’t shoot every bird
that roosts in them! Then, Miss Helen Arm-
stron , you’ll not be so conceited of yourself. It
will different, when you haVen’t got a roof
over your head! So good-by, sweetheart; good—
by to you !”

‘_‘ Now, dad!” he continued, in fancy apostro-
phizmg his father, “now you can take our
own way, as you’ve been lon wanting. es,
my respected parent; on are ree to
fiiecption—the sheriffs oflicers—anyt 'ng you

c.

Angrily grinding his teeth, he dug the spurs
into his horse’s ribs, and rode on—the short bit-
ter syllable still ringing in his ears.

 

CHAPTER II.
No GOOD GIRLS.

RICHARD DARKE had not long parted from
the presence of the lady who so aconically re-
jected him, when another stood by her side.

A man also, thou h no rival to liim,——neither
lover nor suitor. e venerable white-haired
fntleman, who came into the room, was Helen

rmstrong’s father.

His voice on entering, told that he had a sus-
picion of w at had been Darke’s errand.

He was soon made certain by his daughter
freely confessin it.

He said in rep y}:

“I supposed t at to be the fellow’s u
though, at such an early hour, I migit
feared its being worse.”

“Worse! Feared! Father, what could you
have feared?"

“ Never mind Helen; nothin “that concerns
you. Tell me: in what way di you give him
he answer?”

“ In one little word. I simply said no.”

“ That little word will be enough. Oh Heaven!
what wilbbecome of us?” '

“ Father!” exclaimed the beautiful girl, 18. ing
her hand upon his shoulder, with a. scare ' g
look into his eyes; “why do you thus?
Are you angry with me for refusing im? Sure-
lly on would not wish me to be the wife of

ic rd Darke?”

“ You do not love him, Helen?”

“Love him! Can you ask? Who could love
that man?” .

“ Then (you would not marry him?” =

“Woul not—I could not. He has no heart
but the heart of a villain. I would prefer death
to such a husband as he.”

“ Enough. I must submit to my fate—to ruin.”

“ Ruin! Father; what is the meaning of this?
There is some secret-some danger. Trust me,
dear father! Let me know what it is!”

“ I may well do that, since it cannot be much
longer a secret. There is dan r Helen—the
danger of debt. I am in debt the father of
Richard lIJDarke—deepl so—com letgly in his
power. ve g . possess, an houses,
slaves, may become his at any hour’; to-mor-
row, if he will it. Nay, he is sure to will it,
now. YOur little word ‘ No ’ will bring about a
great change—the crisis I have been so lon
apprehendin . Never mind! Let it come. I
must meet i like a man. It is for you, dear
Helen—fin and Jessie, that I grieve Poor

rls, w t a change in your prospects! Pover-
y, coarse fare, coarse ents to wear, and a
log cabin to live in. enceforth, this must be
your lot. I can hope for no other.”

“And what of all that, father? What care
we? I, for one, do not' and I’m suresister will
so. the same. But is there no way to—”

‘Release me from debt, you would say? You
need not ask that. I have spent many a sleep
less night overxit. No; there was onl that one
way. I never before spoke, or even thought, of
it. I knew it would not do. I knew you did
not love Richard Darke, and would not consent
to marry him. You could not, my child—could
you

Helen Armstrong did not make immediate
answer; though she had one in her heart, ready
to leap to her ips.

Marry Richard Darke! Wretch, worthless,
with all his riches; di '

ted, wicked f soul,
craven of spirit, cowardpa as she- deeingd himl

ose ;
ve

.,‘ r t . v  ’ . r'w

 e .~ . a . 3 .l"-. .u A

 

ut in the ‘

 

 

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Marry such a man, while another man that to
her seemed possessed of every noble quality,
beauty of person, boldness of spirit, purity of
heart—in short, everything that makes heroism!
This other man, too, having confessed that he
loved her!
about his being poor in purse, which he was;
nor would it, had he been beneath her in social
rank, which he was not. Her answer would
have been all the same; and she only hesitated

The Death-Shot; or

l
i

To such as she it made no difference ; _
nevertheless saw that somethin

giving it, from a thought that it might add to ; I . I
‘ another instant she was by his Side, clinging to

the weight of unhappiness at the moment press-
in upon her father.

Iistaking her silence, and )erhaps with the
specter of poverty before l
meanness, as it oft does the noblest natures—he
said:

“Helen! Could you marry him?"

He meant Richard Darke.

“S eak candidly,” he continued, “and take
time 0 reflect before answering. If you think
ou could not be contented, happy, with him
or your husband, better it should never be.

-‘:‘-“‘\\\
‘- ‘1.~ “.

iim——inciting to i

1

—another girl, almost beautiful as herself, only
a year or two younger.

“ Not only my affection," she said, at sight of
the new comer, “ but J essie‘s as well. \Von’t he,
sister!”

Jessie, wondering what it was all about,

her. She had caught the wort "affection," at
the same time observing the troubled expression
upon her father’s face. This, with her sister’s
attitude, decided her; and, gliding forward, in

the Opposite shoulder; she too, with one hand
rested gently upon his head.

Thus groupet
family picture, expressive of purest love. The
white—haired, white~inustached colonel, veteran

of more than one campaign, in the center; on .
each side a fair girl, tw1mng alabaster arms 1

around his neck. And yet the two different as
if no kinship existed between them—Helen of
gipsy darkness, Jessie, bright as a sunnner
beam.

/ I (13/
f I y  /
"H’ikll‘ .  \

Consult your own heart, my child, and do not ‘
be swayed by me or my necessities. Say, could
you marry him?”

“Father, I have said. You have spoken of a
Change in our circumstances—of poverty, and
other ills. Let them come! For myself I care
not. Only for you. But if to me the alterna-
tive were death, I’ve told you, dear father—I
tell. you again—I would rather that than be the
Wife of Richard Darke.”

“_Then his wife you shall never be! Let the
subject drop. Let the ruin fall! Now to pre-
pa‘re ourselves for poverty and Texas!”

Texas, if you will, but not poverty. N0, 3
father, not that. The wealth of affection will ,
make you feel rich; and in a lowl hut, as in .
this our grand mansion, you shal still have
mine.”

On saying this, the beautiful girl flung herself 1
upon her father’s breast, one hand resting upon
his‘shoulder, the other laid gently on his head.

'lhe door opened. Another entered the room

 

\

 

“SHE SENT IT ME THIS VERY MORNING. COME, CLANCYl TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK on THE LIKENESS?”—-Page 31.

It would have been a pleasing tableau to one
who knew nothing of what had brought the

; three thus together; or even knowing this, to

him truly comprehending it. For in the faces
of all beamed affection, that bespoke well for

i their future, and showed no distrustful fear of

either poverty or Texas.

 

CHAPTER III.
A FOREST POST-Box.

EPHRAIM DARKE’s harsh treatment of his
slaves had the usual effect—it caused them oc—
caSIOnallyto “ abscond.” Then it became neces-
sary to insert an advertisement in the country
newspaper, offering a reward for the runaways.
Thus cruelty proved expensive.

In plartc: Darke’s case, however, the cost

was partied  recouped by the c‘- .’erness of his 1

son, who v" a noter “nigger—catcher,” and
kept dogs for the especial 11 se. He had a
natural penchant for this kin of chase; and,

,v/Tracked » to Death.

was wanted of i

, the three figures composed a ‘

having little else to do, passed a good deal of his
time scouring the country in )ursuit of his
father’s advertised runaways. aving caught
them he would claim the “bounty,” just as if
they 2belonged to a stranger. Dui'kc pare paid
it without grudge or gru1nbling-1icrhaps the
only disbursement he ever made in such mood.

It was like taking out of one pocket to put into
i the other. Besides, he was rather proud of his
son’s acquitting himself so shrewdly.

Skirting the two plantations, with others in
‘the same line of settlements, was a cy )ress
swamp. It extended along the edge 0 the
great river, covering an area of many square
miles. Beside being a swamp, it was a network
of crccks, bayous, and lagoons, often inundat-
ed, and only passable by means of skiff 01‘ ca—
noe. In most places it was a slough of soft mud.
where man might not tread, nor any kind of
water—craft make way. ()ver it, at all times.
hung the obscurity of twilight. The solar
rays, however bright above, could not penetrate
its thick canopy of cypress tops, loaded with

i that strangest of parasitical plants, the tillandv
* sia usnmidcs.

This tract of forest offered a safe place of con-
cealment for runaway slaves; and as such was
it noted throughout the neighborhood. A
“ darkey ” absconding from any of the near-ly-
ing lantations was as sure to make for it,‘as
wou d a chased rabbit for its warren.

Somber and gloomy though it was, around its
edge was the favorite scouting-ground of Rich-
ard Darke. To him the cypress swamp was a
preserve, as a coppice to the pheasant-shooter, or
a scrubwood to the hunter of foxes. With the
difference, that his game was human, and there—
fore the pursuit of it more exciting.

There were places in the swamp to which he
had never penetrated—large tracts unexplored,
and where exploration could not be made with-
out muoh difficulty. But to enter the'swamp
was not absolutely necessary. The slaves, who
sought asylum there, could not always remain

 

within its gloomy recesses. Food must be ob-

/

  
    
   
   
      
  
   
   
  
    
   
    
  
  
 
 
  
  
  
     
 
  
   
    
  

._..~.. __..-...s....-w "
-. I

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~ .:" ' ‘ taine’d beyond its border, or starvation would

" be their fate. For this reason the refugee re—
V quired Some mode of communicating With the

outside world. It was usually b

cenfederate—some old friend an fellow-slave

11 one of the adjacent )lantations—privy to

t 6 secret of his hiding-p ace. On this neces-
. city the negrqcatcher most deplended; having
’ often found the stalk—or “still- nut,” in back- ~
wood. phraseology—more profitable than a
pursuit with trained hounds.

About a month after his rejection by Miss
Armstrong, Richard Darke was out upon a
chase, as usual along the edge of the cypress
swam . Rather should it be called a search:
since e had found no traces of the game that .
, had’tempted him forth. This was a fugitive ‘
‘  ,ne ne of the best field-hands belonging to i
a -. hisfather’s plantation—Who had absconded, and ’

{could not be found. ;
‘ For several weeks “Jupiter,” as the runaway g
was called. had been missing; and his descrip‘ ’
_‘ with the reward attached, had appeared
.,.in e county news per. Richard Dar e, hav- 

r

’.  ing suspicion that e was hiding somewhere in
V . the‘swamp, had made several excursions thither,
_' in the hope of lightin I
9;} Jupiter was an astute ellow, and had hitherto !
' ' contrived to leave no trace that could in any
,wgy'contribute to his capture.
'- 3 ' arke was returning home, after an unsuc-
cessful day’s search, in an hing but a pleasant
 It was not so muc from having failed
ino‘btaining traces of the missing slave. That
 *' but a matter of money; and, as he had
‘ Milne disappointment could be borne. It
was e thought of Helen Armstrong—of his
' ., suit and blighted love prospects—that
"gave‘austerit to his reflections.
' They had 11 further embittered by a cir-
, that had since occurred. Charles
. g had returned from Texas. Some one
had told Darke of his being seen with Helen
Wuglona Such an interview could
have n with her father’s consent, but
‘. ' e. So much the more aggravating to
t» ' —-Dick Darke.
' ,A 6’ had left the swamp behind, and was mak-
tag. his Wa through a tract of woodland which
father’s plantation from that of
V . when he saw somethinrr that prom-
iigd re f to his perturbed spirit. t was a wo-
cornin throu h the woods, and from the
was 0 Celene Armstrong’s house.
It was not Colonel Armstrong’s daughter.
w’ggtflid not for a moment suppose it was she. ‘
~" likely, in such a solitary p ace, so far from .
plantation-house. But, if not the young
herself it was her re resentative—her
-‘—u atto girl named ulia Darke re-
- n -. a her at a glance, even in the far distance
under thedim shadow of the trees.
 God‘for the devil’s luck!” he mut-
xtol'éd, as the girl first came in sight. “ It’s Ju-
"4, 3| weetheart; his June or Leda, yellow-
" like himself. There can be no doubt
her being on the way to keep an appoint-
' .Vithhim. ,No more/than I shall re-
' that interview. Two hundred do ars
, for old Jude and the fun of 'ving the
and?!” a good hiding, once I. ave him
V;  , ‘ “ aspen, Jupe, my girl! You’ll track
,  for better than the best bloodhound

We?“ EL ’

'r _ making this solil y, the speaker with-
‘himself behind a ; and, concealed by

 foliage, kept his eye on the mulatto

" ‘ ' ’stiil wending her way among the tree

 
    
   
     
    
 
      
 
     

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v
I

'. was no path, and she was evidently
—giving him reason to be-

' Wail on
‘ Darke

the errand conjectured.

, had no doubt of her bein en
' mutate an interview with J ups; and he fe t as
 v 2 as certain of soon discovering, and secur-
. *fhefrunaway who had so long contrived to
 the lhad pamed the place of his con-

 w ch she soon after did—he slip
behind the bush, and followed er
stealthy tread, taking care to keep cover

1  not long before she came to a stop;
». ' a grand magnolia, whose spreading
, h with their large, laurel-like leaves,
- v  a vast circumference of ground.
a. _ ' who 1had ?gfli.1nm1takeft‘iu18talld bthilnd
z- ;mhusheaw ere l6 a View 0 er
' 9 Magistrate, watched them with eager eyes.
0' neared dollars at stake—two hundred for
-.« , fifteen hundred for his father—Jupe’s
- value—no wonder he was on the alert.
was his astonishment, on seeing the girl
 from her pocket, and standing on
{blip it into a knot-hole in the magnolia!
- doue, she turned her back upon the tree;

‘without staying longer under its shadow
“T7”- ? «mgdong the path by which she
, tl going homea ain.
..;. i : her was not ysurprised, but
m- 'A double disa intment—the an-
. 'M. earnin tWO' undred dollars and
3:1!!! slave lash—both pleasant, both
,’ CV. * . ,, - .

~ aw; mommwnt, be permitted

We; not ,movingtfllsho

.‘ . ~ ‘ ...:~ ." q

    
  
    
   

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; him. If so, it would soon behi
means of a ;

upon his tracks. But L Drak

‘ a cross between stag-hound and m , W1

4  7 f‘

,_ ,._, ,. a-..
M l,‘ 1 ‘

‘  v The» sew 'York‘ Library.

was! nite out of his sight. There might be some
score in the letter to concernhperhaps console,
s.

And it soon was his, though not to console
him. Whatever were the contents of that epistle,
so cunnineg deposited, Richard Darke, on be-

. coming acquainted with them, reeled like a

drunken man, and, to save himself from falling,
sought support against the tree.

After a time, recovering, he re—read the letter,
and gazed at a picture—a photograph—which
the envelope also inclosed.

Then from his li came speech, low—muttered
—words of fearfu menace, made emphatic by
an oath.

A man’s name might have been heard among
his mutterin . It was Charles Clancy.

As he str0( e away from the spot, the firm-set
lips with the an r scintillation of his eyes, i
told that Clancy’sfiif); was in danger.

 

CHAPTER. IV.
A PHOTOGRAPH IN THE romsr.

ON the third day after that when Richard ;
e had abstracted the letter from the mag- !
nolia, a man was seen making his way alon the !
edge of the c ress Swain . It was abou the '
same hour of he evening, t ough the individual I
was alt ther different. A young man, also; ‘
but u ' e to Dick Darke as two men of similar
age could Well he to one another. In rsonal
appearance, he was Darke’s superior in eenness :
o intellect, his equal; in moralit , the very 0p; |
ite. A figure of medium big] t, with lim 1
rser set, and well proportion , told of great !
strength; an elastic tread betokened activity; 
while features finely balanced, with an eagle ,
eye and curving lips, proelaimed the on '
of courage, equal to any demand the might be ;
made upon it. A grand shock of waving hair, !
dark brown in color, gave the finishing touch to !
this fine countenance, as does the feather to a !
Tyrolese hat. He who it was habited 
in a hunting costume' not for the chase on |
horseback, but afoot. He wore a shootin -coat l
of strong stuff, with short 'ack-boote, an gait-
ers buttoned above them. is hat was felt, with
ibis feathers for a plume. In hand he car-
riedagun. that ata lance could beseentobe
a rifle; while by his de slouched a do
a
touch of the terrier commingled. Such mon-

e] do are not always curs, but often the best
or bac oods hunting, where keenness of scent
needs to be supplemented by strength and
stanchness.

It was Charles Clancy who was thus armed
and attended. As already said, he was afoot,
walking b the side of the cypress swam . It
was about we weeks after his return from exas.
He had come back to find himself fatherless; and
since that stayed much at home to console his sor-
rowin mother. Only now and then had he
gone orth to seek relaxation in the chase, and
only on short excursions through the nearest
tract of woodland. On this occasion he was re-
turning with an empty ame-bag; but in no ,
way chagrined by his success. For he had
something else to console him; that which gave
gladness to his heart—joy of the sweetest. She
who had won that heart—Helen Armstrong—
loved him. She had not told him somuch in
words; but there had been acts equa expres-
sive,'and to the full as convincing. ey had
met clandestinely, and in the same we corre-
sponded; a tree in the forest servin t em for

filce. All this thro h fear of er father.
11 the letters thus surrep itiously exchanged,
only phrases of friendship had passed between
them. But at their last meeting, Clanc had
spoken words of love—fervent love, in 1 last
appeal. He had avowed himself hers and asked
hertobehis. She had resisted giving him an
answer upon the t, but prom sed it in writ-
ing. He would reee ve it in a letter, to be found
in their forest thee.

He was not dismayed at being thus put of.
He sup it to be but a whim of his sweet—
heart. e knew that, like the Anne Hathawa

. and he knew it had

2 of making it.
1 thoughts, as if the report of the gun had been a

4,", -- v
f Vol.1.

stood, loping on among the trunks of the trees.
As it ran apparently unscared, he had hopes of

again etting sight of it; and thus allured, he
sgeerve out of is track, and went stalking
a r.

He had not

Broceeded above twent paces,
when a sound fi ed his ears, as well as t e woods
around. It was the report of a gun fired by
some one almost beside him. And not at the
deer but himself! The shot came from behind,
. I _ I hit him. This, from a sting-
ing sensation in lns arm, like the touch of re( —
hot iron, or a drop of scaldin water. Even
then he might not have known i to be a bullet,
but for the crack close following.

The wound—~fortiuiately but a slight one—did
not disable him. Like a tiger stung by jave—
lins, he was round in an instant, ready to return
the fire. There was no one in sight!

As there had been no warning—not a word—
he could have no doubt of the intent: some one
meant to murder him!

. The report was that of a smoothbore—a fowl-
mg—plece loaded With ball. A conclusion quickly
drawn hindered him from having any con 'ec-
ture as to who had fired the shot, or why it ad
been fired. He was not traveling on a road
@qu?an by robbers, but through a tract of
tun r in the Mississippi Bottom. He was sure
of its being an attempt to assassinate him, and
that there was but one man in the world capable

Richard Darke was in his

voice pronouncing his name.

Clancy’s eves, flashing angrily, interrogated
the forest. The trees stood t ick, the spaces be-
tween shadowy and somber. For it was a forest
of cypresses, and the hour twilight.

He could see nothin but the tree-trunks and
their branches, flanged with the hostly til-
landsia, here an there draping tot e ground.
It baffled him, by its color and form—the gray

festoone. havin a resemblance to ascending
smoke. e was coking for the smoke of the
discharged gun

He could see none. It must have puffed up
mddenlglto the tree—tops, and become commin—
gled wi the moss.

It did not matter much. Neither the dark-
n nor the close-standing tnmks, hindered his
dog from discovering the whereabouts of the
would-be assassin. iving a yelp, the animal
sprung out, and off.

Before going twenty paces from the spot, it
brou ht up aside the trimk of a tree, and there
st fiercely haying as if at a bear. The tree
was a huge buttressed c press, with “knees”
several feet in hight rlsm around. In the
obscurity they might have en mistaken for
men.

Clancy was seen among them; and saw stand-
ing, between two pilasters, the man who had
meant to murder him.

There could be no question about the intent;
and the motive was equally understood.

There was no effort at explanation. Clan
called for none. His rifle was alread ccck ;
and, quick upon the identification of is adver-
sary came to his shoulder.

“ ichard Darke!” he cried “you’ve had the
first shot. It‘s my turn now.”

As he spokedln's finger pressed the trigger, and

the bullet spe. .

Darke, on‘ seein himself discovered, leaped
out from his lur - lace to obtainlmore free-
dom of action. The uttresses hindered him
from having elbow-room. He also raised his

-—a- double—barrel; but, thinking it too late,
instead of pulling the trigger te lowcred the
iece again, and dodged back behind the tree.
18 movement, almost simultaneous with Clan-

cy’s shot, was quick cnou h to save him. The

ball assed throu h ties 'rt of hiscoat with-
out rawm' g bl , or even crea ' his 

He sprun out in with r shoui of triumph,
his gun st' cock and ready.

Deliberater bringing the butt against his
shoulder—for he was now sure cf his victim—he
said. in a derislve tone :1

“You’re a clumsy fellow, Clancy! A so

 

of Shakespeare, Helen Armstrong “had a way ’ i
of her own' for she was a girl of no ordinary 

character. 0m and brought up in the back-
woods, she d a spirit, free and inde n- ‘
dent, in keepin ' with the scenes and ople hat
had surrounde her youth. So far rom being
deterred by her refusal to give him an imme-

diate answer, Clancy but admired her the more. 1.
A proud she-eagle, that would not condescend ‘v
to

he soft cooing of the dove—even to speak ,
acquiescence. j

his would come in time—in a we not com- ,
men—in the letter she had romisc him. He r
wquld find that in the hue hole of the mag- I
no in.

And now, his day's hunting done, he was !
making his way for the tract of woodland in
which stood the tree—proceeding toward it
along the edge of the 

He had no thought of pping, or turnin
aside; nor would he have done so for any sma
game. But at that moment a deer—a grand
antlered stag—hove ' right, h ' in toward
the amp. Before lane could ngthegun
to his,sh01flder,it‘pa-adytho place when he

. _‘ I V t.
.. , r_ < *- ~ ‘ -
“I I , < ~ \ . vie, 1;. .1"?!

 

I from his left-hand barrel.

-marksman, to miss a man not six feet from g
muzzle of your gun! I shan’t miss you. Shot
for shot’s fair play. I’ve had the first, and I’ll !

l have the last. Now, take your dcth shot!”

As he said the words, a fiery jet streamed

For the moment Clancy was invisible, the
sulphurqus smoke forming a nimbus around
lnm. When it ascended he was seen prostrate
upon the earth; the bloo , welling from a wound
1% 135 breast, having already saturated his
s r .

He appeared to be writhing in his death
agony.

He must have thought so himself, from the
words that came through his lips, in slow, chok-
ing utterance:

‘Ma God forgive on,
have in led—murderede

“Imeant do it,” was the unpitying re-

spouse.
“ Oh heavens l—wicked wretch—-wh —why-—-”
“Bah! You know the why, we

enou
Helen Armstrong, if you like to hear it. A33;
all, it wasn’ttha ’3 made mekill you; but you. ,.
imply-‘93“,  a you Mj‘  _ "I."

” ichard Darke—you

 

 

 
      
      

 

 

   

  

J . 5.

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No. l.

\ \

V f , Th} Death-Shot; or,"Tracked to Death.

  

 

 

 

her. You hadn’t; she never cared a straw for
you. Perhaps, before dyin , it may be a con-
solation for you to know s e never did. I’ve
got the proof. Since it’s not likely you’ll ever
see her again, it may ‘ve you a pleasure to
look at her portrait. ere it is! The sweet girl
sent it me this very mormng, with her auto-
graph attached, as you see.
out likeness. What think you!
doubt, give an unbiased opinion.
condition should speak candidly.”

The ruflian held a photograp before. the eyes

You will, no

i A sluggish creek meandered among the trees,

1 think it an excel- 5

One in your 1

; passmg at some two hundred yards from the
t s t. At about a like distance'below, it dis-
. c rged itself into the stagnant reservoirs of
the swamp.

Its waters were dark, from the oversh ow-
: ing of the cypresses, and deep enough for such
purpose as he was planning.
,‘ But to carry the body to it would re uire an
effort of strength; and to drag it we (1 leave
. traces.

i In view of this difficulty, he said to himself:

of the dying man. They were growmg dim; '

but only death could have dimmed them, so as
not to see that sun-painted picture, the portrait
of her he loved.

He gazed upon it lovingly, but not long.
script underneath claimed his attention. In it
he recognized her handwriting known to him.
The fear of death itself was naught to the de-
s air that swept through his soul, as, with fast-

ming eyes he deciphercd the words-—

“Helen Armstrong—For him she loves.”

The picture was in the possession of Richard
Darke. To Darke, then, had the words been ad-
dressed.

“ The sweet creature!” repeated the latter,
pouring the bitter speech into his victim‘s car.

‘ She sent it me this very morning. Come,
Clancy! tell me what you thin‘: of the likeness?"

There was no response—neither by word, look,
nor gesture. Clancy‘s lips were mute; his eyes
glassed over; his holy motionless as the mud on
which it lay.

“ D—n him, he’s dead!”

CHAPTER V.
UNDER THE CYPRESS.

“ D—N him, he’s dead!”

It was Richard Darke who gave utterance to
the speech, blas hemous as brutal.

Profanity an brutalit had been the char-
acterlstics of his life. ' 0 these he had now
added a crime of deeper dye—murder.

And without remorse. As he bent over the
lifeless form of his rival there was no resem-
blance of contrition, either in glance or gesture.
On the contrary, his dark animal eyes were still
sparkling with jealous hate, while his hand
0
h

 

utched the hilt of his bowie-knife. He had

alf drawn it from its sheath, as if to plunge it
into the b'):ly. He saw it was already breath-
less—almost bloodless.

“ What need? The man‘s dead.”

Alnd with this reflection, he pushed the blade

New for the first time a thought of danger
flashed across his brain. A sense of fear began
to shape itself in his soul. For, beyond doubt, he
had done murder!

. “ No!” he said, in an attempt at self-justifica-
tion. “ It’s no murder.
true; but he’s had a shot at me. I can show that

gun IS discharged, and here’s his bullet-hole
through the skirt of my coat.
wasa close shave !”

Hls 'eyes rested for a moment on the perfora-
ted skn't—only a moment. His uneasiness came
back, and he continued to shape self-excuses.

“ Bah! It was a fair fight. The thing hap—
pens every day in the streets. What difference
whether It’s among trees or houses? that dif-
ference—only that there were no witnesses?
Well, what if there were noncé"

The assassin stood reflecting—his glance now ‘

bent upon the body,

might come along.

I’ve killed him, that’s ,

The .

“Ill let it stay where it is. No one ever
comes this way; not likely. It may lie there
till doomsday, 01' till the wolves and buzzards
make bare bones of it. Then who can tell whose
bones they are? Ah! better still, I’ll throw
3 some of this mess over it, and scatter more
’ around. That will hide everything.”

i He rested his gun against a tree, and com-

; armfuls.

menced dragging the beard-like rasite from
the branches above. It came 0 in flakes—in
Half a dozen he flung over the still
palpitating corpse; then pitched on the top

might strip off the hoary shroud.
fter strewing some tufts around, to conceal

l some pieces of dead wood, lest a stray breeze
i

i gun, and was about taking departure from the 1

 

By thunder, it i

 

‘ .now sent searchineg - as to what course
urough the trees, as if afraid that some onei

, barrels,

’ si of stay

I
i
t after.
i

the blood and boot tracks, he stood for a time
making survey of the scene.
At length satisfied, he again laid hold of his

lace, when a sound, falling upon his ear, caused
im to start. Well was it calculated to do so:
(fior it was as the voice of one wailing for the
cad!
At first he was badly scared, but got over it
on discovering the cause.

“Only the dog!” he said, as he saw Clancy’s
deerhound skulking among the trees.

On its master being shot down the animal had
scampered off, perhaps fearing a similar fate.
It had not gone far, and was now returning-
little by little, drawing nearer to the spot.

The poor brute was struggling between two
instincts—affection for its fallen master, and
fear for its own life.

As Darke‘s gun was now empt he tried to
entice the creature within reach 0 his knife.

With all his wheedling, it would not come.

Hastil ramming a cartridge into one of the
0 took aim at the animal, and fired.

The shot had effect; the ball 5: ing through
the fleshy part of the dog’s nec . But only to
crease the skin and draw out a spurt of blood.
The animal, stung and still further aifrighted,
gave out a wild bowl, and went off, Without
or return.

‘qually wild were the words that proceeded
from the lips of the assassin, as he stood looking
They were interro ative.

“The d—d our ’1] go ome to the house?
He’ll”tcll a tale—perhaps guide people to the
spot?

As he spoke, the murderer turned pale. It
was the first time he had ex ricnccd real fear.
‘ In such an out-of—the—way p ace he had felt safe
5 about concealing the body, and along with it
I his bloody deed. Then, he had not taken the
dog into account, and the odds were in his
favor. But now, with the animal adrift, they
were heavily against him.

It needed no calculation of chancesto make
1 this clear. Nor was it a doubt which caused
. him to stand hesitating. His irresolution came
partly from aifrig‘ht, partly from uncertainty

e should ursue.
One thing was certain— 0 could not sta

‘ there. The hound had gone off howling. t

here was not much danger of this. The spot was two miles to the nearest plantation house;

was one of perfect solitude, as is always a c -
ress forest. There was no path near, to
rodden by the wayfarer. The planter had no
busmess among those great buttressed trunks.
The woodman could never assail them with his
ax. Only a stalkinr hunter, or perhaps some
runaway slave, won d be likely to stray thither.

Richard Darke solilo uized as follows:

“ Shall I ut a bold ace upon it, and confess
that .1 killer him? I can say we met while out
hunting; that it’s been a fair fl lit-shot for
shotgrny luck to have the last. l ill that story

A pause in the soliloquy; a glance at the
corpse; another that interrogated the surround-

ing scene, taking in the huge unsha l trunks 1
the long outstretched limbs, with thlz’iry all-like ‘

festoonery of Spanish moss a the hta
loneliness of the place; its lltness ‘fgr concgglithle
a dead body; then a reflection as to the socia
status of the man he had murdered. All these
passed through the mind of the murderer, di-
Wrtmg him from his half-formed resolution—
8d‘momshin r him of its futility.
. It Won’ do,” he went on, his words denot-
mg the change. “No, that it won’t! Better
8041}; nothing about him. He has no friends
w o’ll inquire what’s become of him; on]
old mother.
—-Achl”
The ejaculation betra-
spmt, as if called up y the name.

 stuch a sweet love-token lying along
. agfiln ’ laneed ' ' ' 1
time wig a giew to sloncqrgqu'urgthe
 up his mindto do . v
v , r [s  ‘. ,

As for Helen Armstrong, wil she

round, this
corpse. He

- \ - . ., V ..
> . ,4 r . ‘ , . \ - . " z
I, i I . ~p  ‘ ' x l V», ‘
_ » _. v ,“ _1a" ’n .

  

 

but there was an odd squatter’s cabin and clear-
; in between. A dogufioing in that guise, blood-
' befiraggled, and in cry of distress, would be
‘ certain to raise an alarm. Equall certain to

beget apprehensions for the safety 0 its missing

master, and cause search to be made.

Richard Darke did not long stand thinking.

V Despite its solitude, it was not the lace for
g tranquil thought—not for him. Faro through

the trees he could hear the wail of the wounded
T Molossian. Was it fancy, or did he also hear
, men‘s voices?

He sta 'ednottoascertain. Beside that corpse,

1, shroud though it was, he dared not remain a
moment longer.

Hastin shouldering his gun, he struck off
, through the forest; at first going in quick stcpo;

then in double; increasin to a run, impelled
2 his speed not by the how of the bound, but the

fancy that he heard human voices.
| He retreated in a direction opposite to that
taken by the do . It was also opposite to the
way leadin toghis father’s house. It forced
himstill fu her into the swamp—across sloughs
and through soft mud, where he made foot-

l marks. Though he had carefully concealed the

bod
his  

in his “ scare” he did not think of those

i he was now leavin .
5 The murderer 18 only cunning before the

ed extreme acerbity of 1, crime.

 

   
 

After it, if ‘he have conscience—or

Strange, i rather, having not courage and coolness—he I
his ‘ loses self-possession, and is sure to leave clues

’ for the detective.

So was it with Richard Darke. As he retreat-
ed from the sconce: his diabolical deed, taking
long 5 his only,thought,was‘to putspaoe

a i
. » v r.
..,‘ .g . ,., ., .
' «6.. fl...- ,‘ms’h . .. .
Vt ‘< i‘ 1 r" ,....;~.’."'§.

.,.A

and obliterated all other traces of the 1

s ’.
sw-‘tx'v «my.

l between himself and that accused crying cur.
! So he anathematized the animal whose cries

i appeared commingling with the shouts of men ‘ .»
——tho voices of avengers! 

    
   
  
   
    
  
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
 
   
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
    
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
      
     
 
    
 
    
   
  
   
    
      
       

 

In this splendid story—to be given in.
liberal installments, in succeeding issues of the
NEW YORK LIBRARY—Mayne Reid deals with
Southwestern life in a very exciting and orig-
inal way. Few men know that life better than
be, for he not only has hunted and “adven- ,
tured ” over Texas and New Mexico, but he has,
lived with the men and shared in the events
which enter so largely into his wonderfully fine
romances of American border life. _

In “THE DEATH Snow” he tells a story of '
men and events that is more than thrilling—it
is of STARTLING INTEREST, and almost weird in a 
the hold it takes upon the mind ;-—so males to ,
rivet the attention like the breathless narration".  “ 
of one who has been an actor in some wild "
drama and returns, almost from the very gates,
of death, to relate his experience. Alllovers of
romance of the wild west will vote this one of-
the greatest stories they ever read.

 

 

READY MAY 24th. '-

Number Two I ‘

l

NEW YORK unmij‘ii’ A
The Dare-Devil. 

‘~
,4

COL. PRENTISS INdRAHm.

v

. IA‘

SEA AND SHORE Sitar: .9
BY A nAsnmG  '

BnmrUL or
Excitement, V V’  

Perilous Adventures. and

 

v Dudley Dash, the flare 

A waif literally cast up by the sea, leads slit. 5
and runs a race that gives a splendid exempllhj )
cation of the courage, honor and  
Young America, as boy and man. _ ’

Buccaneer life, Smuggler life, Privateer  
and life on the man of war, all are depicted? t3 ‘
the very life, and all in a story of almost 
ling interest and novelty—in which :1. ya“:
and lovely woman is a heroine in a  V

It is one of this popular author’s most 
and original romances. ..

Enough to know to make everybody want M
i read it! ' I ~ '
For sale by all newsdealers, orsent, 
‘ to any address, on receipt of price—ran ‘

v

 

 

o
l
i
|

 
 
    

  
   
 
 
 

   
 
 

‘5

 

 
 
 
 
   

A > , \’
.«- \ asp.

‘.1 ‘ '
$33.“;
.. *

 

TWO NEW SERIES JUST RE

" 160 PAGES 0

EOMEPAVLETE.

 

No 1. FRANK STARR’S 10 Cts.

TEN CENT POCKET LIBRARY.

 

THE QUEEN OF THE SADDLE AND LASSO.
TRAN]! m3: 5.66.,1fistlr‘i sr., N. Y.

 

 

 

Y?

_Whon she awoke it was with a startled scream.
- The vast plain was as light as day.
’Way oii' to the north, to the south, to the east and west—in fact, all around her,
circled an awful seething sea of flame.
.‘The outlaw had kepthis word.
 “‘Oh, God i" cried the girl, her great hazel eyes upraised to the starlit heaven,
v ' “hear me swear unto you that, as sure as there is a God and a ruling power on
earth, I will have revenge for this heartless act or the outlaw chief and his mur-
-  gerons gang. Ay. revenge! revenge! Though I must leave the bodies or lny
? ,- H, parents to roast in the flames. i will escape and live to spill the blood of every
n Vaccnrsed wretch who was with Bob Wooll' to-day ; and will reserve him for nly
inst victim. ,(lirl though i am, and young and leeblc, i will sweep like a hurri-
"7 one into the robbers’ ranks, and take a life for every word that the despcrudo
anteauttered‘lten hour: ago! stwu' it I before high heaven! [Wear it I”
I ‘ II III II I! III

1‘

r‘ I; ' A‘heavy north wind had risen, and this, together with the roar and crackle
.ot‘ til: great lire, made anoise got unlike the raging voice or the tornado.
1'" ‘ III at n: it II: it!

. . , w
" Far a/way totthe south, speeding with the wind, like a startled deer, she fol-
~'f'10'wed close in the wake o the southern boundary of the tire, now here, then
anew, and like the veritable hurricane, shc swept on everywhere. SIM was
' two fires, both malted in th!J same direction. * *
' ‘ z ‘ Boy“ considering what to do, when a strange sound attracted his attention.
“Income from the dark leaf coverts among the branches or the tree, at the root
, of Which slept Long Snout.
., ,With eager eyes Cecil watched, and strained ills ear to catch any other sound
a that might be made.
, .10wer branches or the tree were only about three feet above Long Snout’s
head; and were so la e that only a heavy weight, or shock. could jar them.
.-  Presently apebble ropped through the leaves and roll at the sentinci‘s feet.
‘ ,But, he'did not awake.
The next instant a body swung down into mid-air, headforemnsr, the feet and
legs being locked about the limb above, and the head and shoulders were brought
‘otr level with those of the Indian.
3 I a second the plump, muscular arms were straightened down, one hand
. ., clutched the sleeping Long Shout by the throat, and the other, which contained
. f. fiiqng knife,drove the glittering blade repeatedly to the hilt in the bored breast.
 «j The redskin writhed and twisted ilcrcely, but could not break away, or even yell,
. for the grip about his windplpe was like a twisted cord. lie sunk down, quietly,
tfio‘blood sporting from evory gash in streams. Quickly the assailant returned
hick to his belt, and drew an iron-stamp from an inner pocket, shaped like a
oon, which, after dipping into the lire-blood or Long Snout, was brought
down upon the forehead, leaving a. bloody impression—a gory half-moon.
.111 an imam. more the strange avenger had disappeared up among the
Mano es. silently, like athing orshadow. * at I- t w
Eve as he spoke he felt something drop over his shoulders and then tighten
.m t his waist. ’Twas a lasso. The next moment he began to rise, and was
3: filled rapidly up among the branches.

y  These few extracts are from the intensely exciting and interesting novel

" fr "Hurricane Nell. the Queen of the Saddle and LaSso, or the Girl Dead Shot,”

.110. ,1 of Frank Starr’s new and beautiful series ; the Ten Cent Pocket Library,

 y and for sale b every live news agent in the United States. ‘To be rol-

 , other new an original brilliant stories by brilliant authors. Tales of

, {the r, Plains and Wilderness ! Stories of the Trail, the Scout and the Hunt i
We» of Adventure and Peril on Sea and Land! .

. OTHINQ LIKE THEM EVER OFFERED!

RIICANE NELL, the Queen of the fluddle and Lana
ward L. Wheeler. Now Ready.

4 I-LEG THE DUELIST; ,or. the Dread Rider of

[be Bong steed. By Geo; W. Browne. Ready May 22d.

it
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i 'f. - ' i
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ADY, AND FOR SALE

Fra

NUMBER 1 CONTAINS

“A HARD CROWD,”

(s EE OTHER SIDE.)

A startling, deeply—exciting tale of the border,
when “over the Missouri” was out of the “States.” It
is of a Hard Crowd—a lawless set of ruflians such as no
other country in the world could produ(lo—gamblers,
outcasts, horse-thieves, plainsmen, Indian—fighters and
hunters, with an occasional army officer or adventurer
to leavon the unlcavoned mass:———:t story not merely of
ruffianism and lawlessness, but a remarkable series of
acts by an extraordinary bevy of men and a not less
extraordinary young woman, who as heroine and actor
renders that HARD CROWD a singular service and gives
it the blow that kills. Those who have read “Tiger
Dick”-—a very peculiar and powerful story of ‘Vestern
life will find in this new work, from its authors hands,
something to excite wonder, surprise and delight.

A HARD CROWD is given in one number, price
only ten cents. In the same number is commenced

Captain MAYNE REID’S

Magnificent Romance of the South-West,

THE DEATH SHOT;
TRAGKEDmi'o DEATH.

One of the great Romancer’s most splendid works.
Given with all the original beautiful illustrations, 25 in
nuinber, received direct from the London I llustmtcd
News, and used by special arrangement with the author.

The “New York Library” will comprise as its first
issues :

N o. I.-——A HARD CROWD ; or, Gentleman Sam’s
Sister. By the author of Tiger Dick. Now
Ready.

No. II.—THE DARE-DE VIL; or, the Winged
Witch of the Sea. By Colonel Prentiss
Ingraham. Ready May 24th. .

No. III.—KIT CARSON, Jr. ; or, the Crack Shot

of the West. By Buckskin Sam, (Maj.
Sam. S. Hall.) Ready June 7th.

All original, deeply-exciting and incomparably in-
teresting. Nothing like them eVer ofl'ered at any price.

FRANK STARR & 00., Publishers,
Flatt & William Sts., N. Y.

Sent by mail on receipt of price, ten cents, or can
be had of all news dealers who keep a supply of FRANK
STARR’s New York Library, Ten Cent Pocket Library,

 

,and all other current publications of the day.

\