T HE

BOY RANGER:

o

u

THE 1115111158 017 THE GOLDEN HORN.

BY OLL COOMES,
AUTHOR OF “ IIAWKEYE HARRY, THE YOUNG TRAPPEII RANGER."

NEVV YOYtK:

 L BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,
' 95 WILLIAM STREET.

 

Entormi :u-vnrd in;r to Ad M ("nun-as. in Hn- ymu‘ 1578, by
H H .\ I) L I“. A N I) A l) ;\ NI S,
In tho 01110.- 01 xhc Lilmuzrm nl' (.‘m::{1‘<~~'~, n1 \\':1~-‘hin:;lon.

(I’. N. No. ll.»

 

 

  

 

 

 
 
 

 

 

 

THE BOY RANGER:

on,

THE HEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN.

 

CHAPTER I.
ROLLO, THE naxoun.

OVER the great plain at a breakneck speed, and down to
ward the little settlement of (flontarf‘s Post, rode a youthful
horseman whose fair young face was aglow with health,
and whose dark, bright eyes roamed restlessly over the green
expanse before him.

From beneath a small plmned cap of scarlet velvet, masses
of dark-brown hair tloated on the wind. lie was a mere
youth in appearance—of seventeen perhaps, and though he
was light of form and lithe of limb, his physiCal and muan
tar development was that of perfect manhood.

lIe Were a tunic of dark-blue cloth, ornamented with
bright yellow trimmings, and confined at the slender waist
with a handsome belt with silver fastenings. luekskin leg
gings and buckskin moccasins Were upon his tapering limbs
and shapely feet.

The boyish face wore a lovely, yet fearless expression.
llis hands were as small, smooth and shapely as a maiden‘s,
yet, like his face, they had become colored to a dusky brown
by exposure to the hot sun and win of the prairie.

In addition to the handsome ritle which he earried slung
over his shoulder by means of a strap, and the handsome sil-
ver~monnted revolvers he wore in his belt, he carried a light
saber in a polished scabbard at his side.

He was mounted upon a dark, mettlesome pony
01' the Mexican and mustangr breeth Aline Mexican saddle
and a bridle made of braided horse-hair, eaparisoncd the ani-
mal. On one side of the pommel of the saddle lumiar a coiled

a en )58

 

10 ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER; OR,

silver horn; on the other side a double-leased spy-glass.
With the latter, the young ranger ever and anon swept the
great plain before him as though he were not satisfied with
the sight of his own bright, flashing eyes.

Rollo, the Boy Ranger, for as such he was known, pushed
rapidly on, and soon he had gained a bold eminence upon
the plain. IIere, amid the tall, luxurious grass that crowned
its crest, he drew rein and gazed away toward the west, where
a grand sight was spread out before him.

The Little Sioux river divided the landscape, and with its
almost illimitable forest upon the west, and its undulating
ocean verdure upon the cast, it seemed but a silver thread
winding through a. field of green cloth. And down in the
valley, upon the east side of the river, nestled a dozen or more
log cabins, a block-house, all surrounded by a strong stoekade
that had withstood more than one siege of the savage deni-
zens of the forest and plain.

Outside of this settlement, which was known as Clontarf’s
Post, were a number of small fields of growing wh ‘at and
corn; while beyond the fields a herd of cattle in the care
of two boys was grazing upon the prairie. Every thing, in
fact, surrounding the post wore an air of the thrift, industry
and enterprise of its settlers. . ,

Upon Clontarf's Post, Rollo the ranger fixed his gaze, as
though something of uncommon interest depended upon the
sight.

With the exception of a few children at play in front of
the cabin doors, the young ranger could see no life in the
settlement.

To obtain a better view of the place, he took his spy-glass
and brought it to bear upon the settlement. A smile of sat-
isfaction overspread his fair young face as he did so. \Vithin
one of the largest cabins whose door stood open, he saw a
number of persons collected.

“ They are all there,” he said, aloud. “ The trial is still
in session, and I fear it will go hard with poor Dick Sher-
Wood. The settlers are very strict, and if they prove the
facts under which Dick was captured, he is bound to hang—-
Ah ! I am not a minute too soon i”

The last remarks were occasioned by seeing a number of


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THE HEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 

men issue from the cabin into the yard. A general excitement
seemed to prevail in their midst.

Bringing his glass to his eyes. the young ranger soon
learned the cause of the settlers’ Connnotion.

In their midst stood a man with hands bound behind his
back, and a rore around his neck; and upon him all faces

r Were turned, scowling dark with veugance and hate.

After a few moments’ delay in front of the cabin, the ran-
ger saw the men move away toward the gate of the Stockade,
leading the bound man like a lialtered beast in their midst.

The brow of the young ranger darkened.

“ Yes," he fairly groaned. “Dick is doomed to die.
are leading him into the forest. 'l‘hey intend to hang him—
hang him ! A rope is already around his neck. There is no
mercy in their hearts. Border justice knows no mercy.”

As he spoke, he kept the spy-glass leveled upon the party
of settlers, who, filing out of the stockade, moved down to tho
riVer bank. 11ere they embarked in a number of canoes for
the opposite shore, and not until they had landed and plunged
into the leafy depths of the forest did the ranger lower his
glass.

The pupils of his dark eyes were expanded with long
gazing. llis‘ brow knitted, and a shade of sadness and re-
gret. passed over his face. '

Ile spoke to his animal and it bounded away. Just then
there was a quick rustling in the tall grass before him, and a
powerful Indian warriGr—a giant in stature—leaped forward,
and seizing the reins, jerked the pony back almost upon its
haunehes.

Quick of movement, and apparently conscious of the dan-
ger that threatened his young rider, the pony regained its
footing, and rearing upward upon its hind feet until Rollo
nearly fell from the saddle, the. sagaeious beast struck the
savage upon the head with both of its iron-shod hoofs with
such force that the giant was brought to the earth, his tufted
skull completely crushed.

This sudden uprising, and equally sudden downfall, of the
red assailant, occurer so quick that it was all over before
the young ranger could really define the true condition of
afi'airs. But he soon found that the dead warrior was not

They

 

 

  

12 ROLLO, THE noY RANGER; on,

alone. Two others, one on each side of him, both equally
as demon—like in appearance as the (lead giant, arose from the
tall grass and bounded toward him.

The hand of the ranger dropped to his saber. There was
a lig‘lllltlttg‘~lil(0 flash of the polished blade as it leaped from
the sealiltal‘d into the sunlight. v Then there was a flash upon
the right, and a flash upon the left, and the bold ranger
dashed away. But, there was blood upon his saber, for both
strokes had done their fearful work, and three savage war-
riors lay dead upon the, plain !

The young- ranger dashed on over the plain as ealmly as
though nothing had happened. Finally, however, he drew
rein again, and swept the prairie with his elass. But not a
living object was visible anywhere upon the face of the great,
green expanse.

Even the settlement was hidden from his view by an in-
tervening wave of the prairie sea, and he seemed alone upon
the traekless waste. However, he took the coiled horn from
the pouunel of the saddle and blew a blast upon it so shrill
and harsh that it caused his animal to shake his head.

The young man bent his head in the attitude of listening
when he removed the horn from his lips, and faintly to his
ears 'ame the sound resembling the far-ofl‘ echo of his own
horn.

A smile passed OVer his face.

“ Ahi they have heard it, and have replied Now my
good Dart ”—-patting his pony’s neek—“ we have a hard ride
before its—ah, there they go 1”

He raised his head as he spoke, and from behind the erest
of a hill nearly a mile away, he saw a dozen or more mounted
Sioux Indians emerge, riding at a wild, reckless speed down
toward (flontarl"s Post. They were hideous with war-paint,
and tlt‘t'l(('(l and plumed in all the paraphernalia of savage
Warfare.

it was plain to be seen that their mission was one of death
and destruetion. And it. was still plainer that .they had
marked Clonlarf‘s Post as their point of beginning.

Evidently they had seen the men leaving the post, and had
determined to take advantage of their absence and destroy
their stronghold and slay their women and children.

 

  

 

THE HEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 13

the right of the Indians and watt-hing?r them all the while with
a. curious expression ttpon his faee. By a eireuitous route he
reached the river about a mile above the post.
i The banks of the stream Were low and unobstructed, and
scarcely Checking his speed, the ranger spurred his foam-
ilecked animal into the river and swam it across to the op-
; posite side, and then dashed away in the deep shadows of the
great, green woods.

4 ‘ R0110, the ranger, put spur and dashed away, keeping to
l

Tl CHAPTER II.
. t TIIE “ IIAL’I‘ICR ” OF JUSTICE.

CLONTARF‘S POST had first been Settled by Lionel Clontarf,

 a gentleman of Irish descent. It was among the first settle-
 , ments of the then territory of Iowa, and, although in the

midst of privations, and harrassed by the red man, it grew
and prospered as but few under Similar eireumstances would
have done.

. ‘ Family alter family, with brave hearts and willing hands,
. t Were added to the settlement, until it numbered sotne fifty
! Souls.

 Stock-raising and agriculture were the chief objects of the

 - settlers, though in course of time a stere and Indian t’ading-
post Were‘?)peued. At. this point, all the surroundng Settle-
, ments—whieh in fact were few—obtained their supplies, and
i many dollars’ worth of furs and peltries Were brought here
and exchanng by the Indians for flour, powder, and ammuni-
tion of all kinds, and stteh trinkets as pleased their savage
faney or wants. The settlers dill all within their power to
keep up a friendly llttt't‘t‘ti!11'\'(‘ ltetween lllt'lti’\'('l\'t'£\' and tho
, Italians. This they would have had no trouble in doing, btzt
' for the influent-e of unprineiplel white tvzen, “ho, driven from
t the soeiety of their own rat-e, sought, ~shelter within the red
man’s lodges, or the mountain fa‘ltttesses, where tney organ-
ized themselves into bands to rob and murder the ni‘iott'encling

Settier or emigrant.

 .6:

Q: :r‘: 
»

 

    

14 ROLLO, rm: nor RANGER on

Through the instrumentality of these white outlaws, the
Indians were kept in an almost constant state of hostilities,
and it behooVed the whites ever to be upon their guard, and
use every exertion toward ridding the country of all those
prime roots of border troubles—the white robber, and the
white renegade.

Among the latter class of outlaws, who had become noto-
rious for his deep cunning and wickedness, was one Dick
Sherwood, whose crimes were multitudinous. And for some
cause or other, Clontarf’s Post was the central point around
which this moth of Satan seemed to flutter most of all. It
seemed that he cherished a ‘natural antipathy toward the
place, or some of its people, and tried in vain, by every means
that his cunning brain could concoct, to destroy it.

Finally he had the audacious boldness to disguise himself
in the paint and garb of an Indian, and Come to the post on a
pretended mission of peace. Ilc was kindly received by the
men of the post, who had supposed him a genuine Indian
Sent by his people to make some terms of peace, as a deadly
hostility had existed between them for the past six months.

A council was called, and a treaty of peace at once en-
tered into, by and between the settlers and the great chief,
Rolling Thunder, as he called himself.

After the treaty was concluded, the chief remained at the
post a day or two; and, but for his attempting to carry away
Miss Clara Bryant, one of the fairest jewels of the post, on
taking his leave of the settlement, his disguise wquld never
have been penetrated. However, he was caught at his little
game of abduction and taken prisoner. By a vigorous appli-
cation of water by means of numerous (tuckings in the river,
his feathers were caused to droop and his mask of paint to
wash away; and the great messenger of peace—the 'mighty
Rolling 'l‘humler, was found to be the notorious renegade,
Dick Sherwood.

'l‘he vengeance of the settlers was at once aroused. 'l‘he
villain was locked up in the block-house, the remainder of the
night upon which he was captured, and the next day he was
led forth for trial.

According to their notion of border justice, the settlers of
(‘lontarf's Post found Sherwood guilty of crimes punishable

    

~f‘

THE mamass on THE GOLDEN 11mm. 15

by death, and so he was condemned to be hanged in the for-
est. on the morrow. -

The morrow came. It ‘as the day upon which our story
opens.

The prisoner was led forth from his prison, in the midst;
of a group of men. It was this group that young Rollo, the
ranger, saw from the crest of the prairie wave.

Dick Sherw‘ood was a young?r man of not more than five
and twenty. 0f figure he was of medium hight, and was :
perfect model of the physical man. His head was of the in-
tellectual mold, and but for the evil light in his black eyes he
would have been a handsome man. ’

As his captors led him from the. stockade like a haltered
ox, his face wore no downcast look, and his step vas firm and
elastic. Even in his helpless Condition, and in face of the
death to which he was being hurried, he was recklessly cheer-
ful, and made many remarks touching.r his situation, that pro-
1 need l'aUghter among the settlers, and. even made a curious
impression upon some of their hearts.

The execution was to take place in the woods across the
river, and two of the settlers had been sent on some time in
advance to select a tree for the purpose, and dig a grave.

\Vhen the party crossed the river with the prisoner, they
were met by the two men and conducted to the place of ex
ceution, which was beneath the branching boughs of a. great
oak.

A large limb growing out at right-angles with the body of the
tree had been trimmed of its shrubbery, and near the foot of
the tree a grave, was dug.

As the prisoner gazed upon these preparations for his exe-
cution, he smiled ,urimly, defiantly.

“Why go to this trouble, gentlemen?” he asked, pointing
toward the grave. “ \Vhy not let my body hang for the
hungry wolf, the carrionwrmv and the vulture to feed upon?
Know you not that the spirit will not complain of your treat-
ment, of the body? The wolf and the vulture will not devour
my bones, and so long as the grim skeleton exists, so long will
the spirit remain about it."

“ You are disposed to jest, Dick Sherwood,” said Lionel
( lontarf, a stern, stony-hearted man ; “ you should think of the

 

    

10 nomo, THE BOY RANGER; on,

great llcreaft er, and then perhaps your heart will move the
spirit ditleremly.”

“Yes,” added (leot‘l‘ry Eryant, “think of the lives you
have, destroyed, and the homes you have made sad and deso-
late, and then, if you have a Conscience, you will feel a pang
of remorse. Your heart will shrink from the terrible punish-
ment, awaiting you.”

“I am really conscious of all thia, gentlemen,” replied Sher-
Wood, tannitingly, “ but my greatest regrets are that I did not:
sneceed in escaping with Miss Bryant, for then it would have
been heaven instead of——”

“ Hang the villain ! hantor the wretch l" burst from the lips
of some, of the, crowd.

“ Dick Stun-wood,” said old Captain Storms, the leader of
the party, “ if you have any thing of reason to say, say it; at
once; if not —”

“ Certainly,” interrupted Sherwood; “ I was going to sug-
gest that some imprm’ements he made upon that grave for my
(last: and comfort; but I will not occupy it long, so go your
length, gentlemen. Should I ever address you again it will
be under (lill‘t,*t'(:nt—(plite ditl'erent auspiCes."

The settlers grew indignant at these taunting, defiant re-
marks, and at once proceeded to the execution.

Four men drew the cleared liml) as low as possible and held
it down. To this Captain Storms tied the rope which alr -ady
encircled the rcnegarle’s neck.

Liontl (llontai'f hound a handkerchief over the prisoner's
eyes, and then, at a signal from Captain Storms, the four men
relinquished their hold upon the limb which arose to its nat-
ural position, and then Dick Sherwood hung between llCdL‘UIL and
earth I

The wretched man struggled desperately, but his etl'orts
momentarily grew feehler. The. settlers stood in speech—
less silence and gazed upon the liamoringz,r form until it had
e atle to move.

Surely life was extinct.

Finally (laptain Storms advanced and placed his fingers
upon the l'tfllt'j_',‘?l(i(">' pulse, and said in a low tone:

' “ He's dead, hoys, dead, dead; and may God have mercy
upon hie soul.”

    

'rmc 1min..sz or THE GOLDEN HORN. 17

As he uttered the last word a startled exclamation burst
from the lips of the crowd.

A horseman had hurst suddenly from the forest into their
midst.

It was Rollo, the ranger! Ilis horse was white with foam,
and his own faee streaked with perspiration and flushed with
exeiteinent.

“ Away, men, away 1" the youth shouted, wildly, “ away for
your homes, your wives and your children ! The Indians are
upon the post I"

“ My God l“ burst from the lips of Lionel Clontarf; “come,
men, follow me! I can already hear the yells of the demons
and the c‘ash of arms l” ‘

“ But the body of Sherwood,” eried one, “what will be—”

“Let it hang away l" responded old Captain Storms.

Fear seemed to lend the settlers invisible wings as they
ran through the woods toward the post, the boy ranger
following close at their heels upon his almost exhausted ani-
mal.

Had the settlers, however, on turning their backs upon the
hantbring,r renegade, given the youner rangera second glance,
they would have seen something that Would have aroused
some curiosity, if not suspieions, in their minds. \Vild with
exeitement and ft ar, however, they ran on, the safety of their
families uppermost in their minds.

“'hen the river was reached, the settlers hastily embarked
for the opposite. shore in their canoes, the ranger swimming
his animal hehind.

When they mine in sight of the post the men saw that, the
plaee was heing ln'avely defended by the few men that had
remained behind.

The enemy were mounted, and in number did not exceed
a dozen. They had divided their force, and the larger party
Were directing their attack upon the eastern gate of the stock-
ade.

Seeing the inferiority in numher of the enemy, the settlers
gave a yell as they approached, and the next moment the
savages were flying over the plain at a hreakneek speed, leav-
ing one of their niunlrer hehind, dead.

This bloodless termination—0n the part of the settlers—~0f.

 

    

    

18 ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER; on,
what promised a bloody atl‘ray, resulted in Rollo, the Boy
Ranger, being lionized as the real hero of the victory. [16
was fairly dragged from his pony and forced to accept the
warm, heartfelt thanks and blessings bestowed upon him, for
his tituely warning them of danger.

The young ranger seemed ill at ease within the stockade,
and contrary to the wishes of the settlers, he soon took his
departure.

“ I can not bear the confinement of the settlement,” he said,
on leaving the post. “I feel freer when roaming on the great
prairie ocean, or threading the shadowy aisles of the forest.”

IIe rode away toward the north when he left the post,
on the trail of the defeated red-skins.

To the surprise of the settlers, on going to inter the body
of the slain enemy, they found that it was the body of a
white man in Indian disguise. This discovery caused no lit-
tle food for reflection, and old Captain Storms, well Versed in
the nature of the Indian, gave it as his belief that the whole
party of mounted enemies were a party of white men, and
robbers at that, in Indian disguise. The old captain’s rea-
son for this belief was that the enemy had been too bold and
reckless in their attack, which set at variance all he had ever
seen of Indian caution, cunning and cowardice.

During the remainder of that day and the following night,
guards were stationed at all the points surrounding the post,
and the stock secured against a night stampede. But. fortu-
nately, no further bestile demonstration was made by the
enemy. ‘

The following morning, however, a number of Indians
were seen in the edge of the timber along the river on the
opposite shore. This prevented the settlers from crossing
over to inter the body of Dick Sherwood, the renegade, as
they had intended to do.

On the second day, vultures were seen hovering over the
forest, and it was then that every Christian energy of the set-
tlers was aroused, and they at once crossed the river and pro-
ceeded to the scene of execution.

But to their horror and disgust, they found only a human
skeleton bleaching in the sun, where they had last seen the
body of the renegade hanging.

 
 

TIHL HEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 

The gaunt wolf and the carrion-crow had been there.
And as the white, ghastly skeleton swayed to and fro in the
breeze—seeming still possessed of life—the settlers shuddered,
for it brought up quite forcibly in their minds, the words of
the renegade, “ As long as my bones exist the spirit will re-
main about them."

Was it possible that these words were prophetic?

The remains were taken down and buried, and then the
party returned home, feeling that they were at last free from
the persecutions of the renegade, Dick Sherwood.

CHAPTER III.
A PROPOSED MEETING.

THREE months after the execution of the renegade passed
by, and the settlers of Clontarf’s Post, in that time, had ex-
perienced a season of peace and quietude seldom enjoyed by
a border settlement. The Indians had made no hostile de-
monstration, though many feared that their quietude foretold
a coming storm, and many thought the death of Dick Sher-
wood accounted for their peaCefulness. Be that as it may,
the settlers never allowed one point admissible of attack from
the enemy, to remain unguarded for a single hour; for, knew-
ing their treacherous and cunning nature, and since no regular
treaty had been entered into, they thought it more than
likely that the Indians were watching for a chance to strike
at the post when its people were off their guard.

In the midst of their peace and prosperity, the settlers were
not forgetful from Whence came all those blessings they were
being permitted to enjoy, and once or twiw a week they
Would meet at one of the neighbors’ houses and offer up
tl.aaks to their Heavenly Father for his protection and bounti-
ful gifts. Each and every Sabbath, divine serviees were held
at the residence of the Reverend Paul Eurnshaw, a minister
of much ability, and dearly beloved by all his friends.

During the latter part of the month of August, Mr. Earn-

 

    

 
 

20 ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER; on,

.
shaw began a spiritual revival at the post, attended with
great success. Encouraged in his good work by his friends,
he soon extended his labors to other settlements—such as were
not too remote from the post.

While ltlllttl'lltg‘ at one of those settlements, a new minister
made his appearanee in the field. He ('ame from the East,
he told Father l'iarnshaw, to lalnor among,' the Indians. He
had not, heel] sent out by a missiorar)’ sot-iety, hut had mine
on his own responsibility to )H't'ttt‘il to the he then. He e‘ave
his name as Israel Ainesley. lie was an aged man, hut pos-
8(‘SSt‘tl of wonderful strength and activity, and a voice deep,
strong and musical.

The good people of Valley Settlement, anxious to procure
the services of so ahle a minister as Father Ainesley’s tirst ser-
mon proved him to be, pre 'ailed on him to take up his resi-
dence there.

\Vith some reluctance the reverend father accepted the
kind invitation of the settlers; however, he made a reserva-
tion of half of his time to he devoted to labor among,r the ln-
(lians.

Father Earnshaw now returned to Clontarf’s Post; not,
however, hefore having exacted a‘ promise from his fellow-
lahorer in the vineyard of God, to visit him at an early day.

Father Ainesley went to work with a zeal, both at the set-
tlement and among the Indians. At least, he was away from
Valley Settlement a good half of the time, and the settlers
had no reason to question his beingr at work trying to convert
the wild red men.

in the course of a. week, Father Ainesley sent a letter to
Father Earnshaw, in which he proposed that they hold a
union meeting of the two settlements; and in case that he
should aeeept the proposition, to name the point of m ‘eting,
as well as the day.

Father Earnslzaw sent the following reply :

“ (‘tros'rtttw’s POL—"1', Sept, .9, 19-—
“ Dian: luoTutjtt AlNl‘lSlJvA‘:

" Your prtmowi’iion of a. union meeting“: of the two settle-
ments receives my happy approval. It would he likely to H‘-
tahlish a tiruw'and more pleasant relation~~hip between the
two settlements, and lay the foundation of a (‘hri,~tian (-ountry
and people. fiinee you have left it with me to set the day of

 

 

    

THE IIEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 

meeting,vaill name the 10th of Sentemher. And since, in
my opinion, there is nothingr to fear from the Indians, 1 shall
propose that we hold our meeting in the woods, (lod‘s first;
temples, on the shore ot' lialte \\'il:l\\'ood. It is a low-1y spot,
adorned with all the beauty ot‘ natureuthe Lzreat, green woods
upon one side. anel \‘v'ihiwood latte upon the other; the hear—
ens alim'e and a. velvety earpet of green ltt‘llt‘:tlll.

“ limiting that this liriet' reply Will fully meet your :ipproxral,

“ 1 remain yours in (‘hI i>t,
“ l’.\t:i. l'lAltNNHAW.”

The reply «It'd tltt't‘i- the lleverenzl Amt-sky‘s approval, and
ex'ery arrangement was at. onee made for the meeting of the
two settlements upon the tenth of b‘eptemher.

But little did the great, kind-hearted settlers dream of the
deep and daninahle plot that was being laid for their de-
struction by one of these men Wearing,r the saeerdotal robes
of a. minister of GetL

CIIA PTER IV
Tim ATTACK.

‘AnOUT four miles north-west of Clontarfs Post, in a se-
cluded spot, stood a Stllllitl‘y logmahiu, surrounded on all Sides
by the dark, toweringr forest. It was a. rude strueture with-
out, but its interior hore evidence of ease and comfort. But,
the location was one sutlieient to inspire the heart with aWe,
for, from morning till night, the dark forest shadows hung
over the hut. Even if a patch of sunlight did fall upon it,

it came and went like a white-rohed specter.

llere, within this lonely and desolate hut, dWelt, with his
daughter Madge, 'l‘alhott Taft, the Indian trader. “'hy he
had seleeted this olm-ure spot for a (th'llltt'; was a inysterjy'
to settlers tltt‘l‘t‘:ll)1tttl~‘. .\nd why he, a man of no little in—
telhetzial eulture, ll‘tll left the retineim-nt ol' ('i\'lli/.:ttlotl and
brought his lieautil'ul and aeeomjtli-Jml daughter into the
wildernem of a >:t\':1j_ftt land, was still a greater my 'tery.

'l‘alhott 'l‘al't. was in the prime of manhood, with but little
gray in his hair and \Vltlfilitfl's; and the “ crows‘ feet” about

  

   

    

22 BOLLO,’1IIE nor RANGER; on,
his eyes seemed rather premature, than the marks of Time.
Ilis features, though extremely delicate, bore no evidence of
dissipation, yet his dark eyes Were wonderfully strange in
their expression.

llis articles of traflic consisted of whisky, tobacco and beads.
These he obtained at a large trading-pest on the Missouri
river, and traded to the savages for furs and pcltries.

The settlers of Clontarf’s l’ost often called at the cabin of
the trader, and Were kindly received and cared for. But no
one had ever been there but what, on leaving, had declared
that there was some mystery about Talbott Taft.

Madge Taft was a woman of more than ordinary beauty.
She was not more than eighteen, judging from her looks, but
from the beautiful and perfect development of her form, one
would suppose her to be one and twenty. Her eyes were
dark, lustrous and brilliant, possessed of an expression that
was indicative of a wild, joyful and fearless spirit—such as
only a true heroine could possess. ller hair was black and
fine as silk, clustering about her head in shapely ringlets.
lIer complexion was healthful and white as alabaster, and the
hues of the rose and lily were blended in her cheeks. Her
hands Were small, white and shapely, yet no circlets of gold
flashed upon her tapering fingers.

Few young men, and in fact. few old men, upon whose
hearts there vas no previous claim, ever called at the cabin
of Talbot Taft and Went away without realizing the fact
that they were in love with the trader‘s lovely daughter.

But of the many whose hearts had been thus captivated
but a single one had ever received a friendly notice from the
forest beauty. This son of fortune was a well-to-do young
man of Clontarf’s Post, named Townsend Farnesworth.

IIis attentions to Madge were encouraged so far as to be
permitted to call frequently at the cabin.

Early on the morning of the tenth of September, the day
set for the eamp—mm-tinf,r at. Wildwood lake, Torin. Farms-
worth called at the cabin of Talbott Taft to accompany Madge
to the meeting. Ile found her awaiting him, and looking
more lovely and bevitehing than he had ever seen her before.

They did not tarry at the cabin, but. at once set off for the
lake, which was some two miles distant.

     

 

 

 

      
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
   

THEIHEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN nonN. 23

ll ( Their walk through the cool shaded aisles of the forest was

l pleasant and exhilarating; and they seemed unusually happy

l in each other‘s society, and chatth and laughed as only

1 youthful lovers could have done. Yet neither knew that the

v other really did love, for no avowal had ever passed their

l lips.

l Arrived at the appointed place of meeting, the young peo-
ple found that they Were the first there, and to pass the time
as pleasantly as possible, they walked down to the lake shore

. and seated themselves upon the moss-covered trunk of a fallen

tree.
Wildwood lake lay before them, calm and placid, resem-
blir'g a great mirror set in a rustic frame. No object was

M. visible upon its glassy, unruflled surface to break the same-

ness of the glittering sheet.
The lake was perhaps a mile and a half in circumference,

“ and it was hounded n‘arly all around with tall, frowning

rocks, whose white faces Were plowed and fluted by the wear

of time. Here and there the black mouth of a subter-
ranean vault was visible, partially hidden by creeping vines

. and tall aquatic plants.

Town. and Madge gazed out upon the lake, and it would

, have been an easy matter for a close observer to have marked

the ditl‘erence in the expression of each gaze. \Vhile Town‘s,
look showed that his mind was upon Something else besides
the beauty of the lake, Madge‘s gaze showed that she was
gazing. with no little interest and anxiety, and a look of

.3“, half-expectation, carefully over the bosom of the glimmering

sheet.

Town. was too deeply absorbed in the tumultuous fluttering
of his heart, to note the expression of his fair companion's
face. After a moment‘s silence he said :

“ \Vildwood seems unusually calm this morning."

“ And lonely,” replied Madge; “I wonder where those
flocks of beautiful wild ducks and geese are that are most al~
ways seen upon the lake.”

“ It is very probable that they are lying along in the cool
r snarlow of the shores, or among the reeds and rushes over
yonder.” -

" ’l'he'lakc looks quite lonely without them," said Madge.

 

 

    

ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER; OR,

“ Many pleasant moments have I spent here alone watch-
ing the feathered trihes gliding over the water, :ind—”
“ Then you love to he alone—you love solitude, Madge ‘3”
questioned Town, with n Iu-reeptihle, Change in his yoiee,
Madge raised her eyes and gazed into the young man‘s face,
as it touched hy his oue<tion.

“ A re there not times, 'l‘own.,”

Slit) asked, “when you would
rather he alone than in (-ompany with your hest friend ‘3"

“ Yes; hut not, my (Ion-ml friend. When I wish for soil
tude it is only to think and dream of you, dear Madge. Since
We first met, my heart has gone out to you in the most pas-
Sioutlte love, and I have longed for this moment, Madge, to
ask you to he mine—mine forever l”

Madge was quite inditl‘erent to this deelaration of love.
She had long llt‘t‘ll expel-ting it, and wao prepared. As she
lifted her eyes to those of 'l‘own., a smile, in whieh there was
a shadow of sarcasm, passed over her face.

“ You are, jesting, 'l'own.," she, said, a little. reproaehfully.
“ You do not, know the desire of your own healt. M'hen
you have thought more of the matter, and consulted your own
feelings' and mind, you may have, reason to feel a pang of re-
gret that, you ever asked the wild, wayward daughter of a
poor lndian trader to he your wife.”

“ Madge, do not, doubt, my atl'eetion and judgment in this
matter. My heart is iuunovahle‘ and I love, you all the more
of your humhle life. It would not he a marriage of a prince
and peasant, hut two whose love I trust Would he equal, as
Well as their hirth."

“ 'l‘own.," said Madge, and there wa< a slight tremor in her
Voiee, “are you sure that (flara lryant has no Claim upon
your heart? I know (Tiara loves you, ’l‘own., and would make
you a better wit'e than I."

“Until I saw you, Madge, I thought I did love Clara, hut
SinCe, our first meeting I tind it wag hut pure friendship Com-
pared with the love I hold for you.”

“ Then your love for me is of hut a momentary growth.
Dismisx' me from your mind and you will lind that the heart
will go haek to its first love.”

“ You do not love me, Madge, else you would not tritlo
with my feelings thus,” he said, a little vexed.

 
   

._. nA U..- -L‘fl

3‘

THE mannss OF THE GOLDEN norm. ‘25

“ No, no, Town. ; I will frankly admit that. I love you, but
can not promise you now to be your wife.”

Town. It‘arneswortlt felt a thrill of joy pass through his
heart, and his arm stole softly aliout the slender waist of the
maiden. She gently withdrew from his emhraee and continued :

“ Do not let my avowal of love for you, 'l‘own., huild up
new hop-ts within your hreast. 1 must admit the sin of being
ambitions, and l could never give my consent to wed a man
whose name Was coupled with that of—”

“ ()owardiee l" exclaimed To an.

“Exactly, 'l‘own.”

“ Madge l‘’ and the young man’s voice grow stronger, and
his eyes flashed indignantly, “ then you, too, haVe given cre-
denee to that false report of a eowardly enemy l” o

“ I Could not well help it, 'l‘own., when so many spoke of
it. I tnay he dong you injustice to put any belief in it, but
ambition, as i said before, is my hesetting‘ sin. Did you pos-
sess the fame of Rollo, the Boy Ranger, then 1 would not hes-
ltute to become your wife.”

“ I can not hlame you, Madge, for refusing to wed one who
bears the name. of a coward, but that 1 am [40/ a coward, I
shall prove to you, if 1 have to wade through tire and hlood;
and not until i have won a fame etptal to that of lied Rollo’s
twill I press my suit for your hand. All I asl; now is that I
may live in hope."

“You may, 'l‘own.——hut look yonder,” she said evasively,
“what objects are those on the water just put out from the
northern shore ‘3"

Town. viewed the objects in question closely.

“Ah l" he eXelaitned, after a while, his eyes having been
ttpon one thin},r and his mind another, “ it is a lloelt of ducks
——tptite three score of them; and how graeefully they move
over the surface, their green heads erect, on watch for the
least sign of danger.”

“ How I love to watch them sportingr over the smooth sur-
face of the water !" said Madge. “They are so graceful in
their movements—~so shy and tptiek.”

“ I see, Madge, that you area lover of nature, as well as am-
blthHlS—ltllt had we not hetter return to the place of meeting?
I see a. large number of the settlers are there "

 

 
  

      
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   

26 ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER; on,
Madge consented, and together they joined the settlers.
They found that the people frotn each settlement were al-
ready arrived, and it wanted but few minutes of the hour for
the beginning of service.
Town. and Madge SCtlit'd themselves upon one of the many
fallen logs that had been arranged for seats, and entered into
conversation with those near them.
For a moment the young couple held the gaze of the as—
sembly. Town. was the envy of all the marriageble youths
there, while each maiden felt like hiding her own brown,
plain face as she gazed upon the fair, lovely features of Tal-
bott 'l‘aft’s daughter.
Madge greeted all their looks with a smile, and for a mo-
ment there was : “ buzz " in that particular corner of the con-
glegation. Even the eyes of the aged, sober, sanctimonious
Israel Ainesley, who was s‘ated alongside of Father Etru-
.shaw on a raised platform, facing the congregation, became
fixed upon the lovely face of the maiden with a kind of a.
fascinated gaze, which Madge acknowledged with a pleasant
smile. '
After a while the congregation engaged in singing, the
sound of their voices rollng away in sweet, melodious anthems 5
through the green forest aisles. And, too, the lake seemed to
have caught the inspiration of the mttsie within its own pulse.-
less bosom and carried the sound back among its hills and
caverns. ‘
The spot selected for the meeting was well calculated to !
inspire the heart with the intinite power of God. ‘ W 
It was a smooth lawn sloping down to the water‘s edge,
over which was thrown the cool shadows of the stately tower-
ing oaks. Upon one side, within full View of the congrega~
tion, lay the placid lake, and upon the other the great silent
forest.
\Vith the natural precaution born of backwoods life, the
settlers had brought their side-arms with them, and had even
posted guards out in the woods, some distance from the place
of service, to guard against surprise. Still, no fears whatever
had been entertained of danger from the Indians, as they had
long been perfectly peaceful and quiet.
After singing, followed prayer by the Revm'end Mr. Earn-

“i; .___:‘. is

    

   

THE nnmnss OF THE GOLDEN norm. 27

Shaw. Then Mr. Ainesley arose, and in a clear but tremu-
lous voice‘ announced his text; and at once began his dis-
course in a manner of force and ability that, from the first,
enchaiued the attention of his hearers. lIe possessed a power
of eloquence and delivery profound and comprehensive. lIis
comparisons Were striking, and his similes beautiful.

The eyes of all the congregation, Madge’s excepted, became
riveted upon the speaker, and though the traders daughter
heard every word that was spoken,she sat. in a kind of mental
abstraction and gazed out upon the lake at the flock of wild
ducks, which, since. the beginning of the sermon, had con-
tinued to approach nearer and nearer that end of the lake, as
though drawn thither by the magnetic influence that enabled
the eloquent Mr. Ainesley to hold such a power over his
audience.

Once during the discourse, the preacher, in calling the at-
tention of his listeners to the presence of God in all the
surroundings, turned toward the lake and said :

“In those beautiful towls yonder, sailing so gracefully over
the glassy surface of the element, behold the power, the
wisdom—yea, the presence of God.”

Of course all eyes followed in the direction of the speak-
er‘s, and every one within the assembly saw the flock of
beautiful wild fowls, shyly, but slowly and steadily, nearing
the beach.

Just then their ears were greeted by the long report of a rifle
on the opposite side of the lake, that came booming over the
water like a sunset gun, and reverberatiug away back among
the hills, and rolling in a prolonged clang and crash through
the forest aisles.

A small jet of water flashing upward in the center of the
flock of ducks showed the settlers where the bullet, sent from
the hunter‘s ritle, had struck.

As the" report of the ritle, which had so suddenly startled
them, died away, a slight commotion was noticed among the
settlers By the report of the pieCe they knew full Well who
had tired it, for there was but one ritle of so heavy 21 caliber
upon the border.

That ride was owned by the celebrated hunter and scout
known as Roll Raynor—nicknamed Old Tumult.

  

    

  

28 ROLLO, THE nor RANGER; on,

And the presence of Roll Raynor in the neighborhood be-
tokened the coming of danger! However, the Rev. Mr. Ainesley
soon quieted the fears of his audience and continued his dis-
('trttl‘s‘t'.

Madge 'l'ai‘t still sat, apparently in deep thought, watching
the apprtmehing,r fouls.

Suddenly, the ears of the audienee were again greeted by
the thumlertms boom of (Nd ’l‘uinult's ritle. And before they
had l‘ully caught the full report of the gun, a wild and almost
unearthly scream was heard to issue from the waters of the
lake.

Every eye was turned in that direction, and to the awful
horror of the settlers, they beheld the half-naked body of an
Indian warrior 1 tap upvard from the water, but a few rods
from the shore, ms mam AND men CONCEALED m A CAP
MADE OF 'rum FEATHEREI) SKIN OF A WILD DUCK !

’l‘he savage had been shot through the h ad by a bullet
from the ritle of Old Tumult, but no sooner did the d ‘ath-
wail peal from his lips, than the whole flock, of what the
settlers had supposed to be living wild-ducks, was seen to rise
up from the water upon the heads of as many half-naked
savages, whose bloody war-whoops, as they dashed aside their
feathered caps, and sprung ashore with drawn tomahawks,
sent a thrill of terror to the stoutest heart.

CHAPTER V.
OLD TUML'LT TO THE RESCUE.

MY pen is inadequate to the task now before me—the task
of deserihing that savage surprise, and the horrors‘that fol-
lou'td.

A desperate eontliet at once began. “'hcre peace and the
enjoyment, of religious (‘.\t l‘t‘l:~t‘ prt-x'ailed but a few moments
previous, now death and earn:th ran riot.

The yells of the deinoniae savages. the shouts of the brave
Icttlers as with knife and pistol they flew to the conflict, the

 

. damn—4..

x

if N':  -

THE Immsss or rrm; GOLDEN norm. 29

shrieks of women and children, all mingled in one awful sound,q
and rolled through the forest like a voice from Pandemo-
nium.

At the beginning of the conflict, Town. Farnesworth seized
Madge and attempted to carry her beyond danger; but she
tore herself from his arms and bravely dashed into the midst
of the combatants. Town. attempted to follow her, but fell
unConscious from a blow upon the head.

The armed guards came running in from the woods, and
joined their friends in the conflict; and presently another
voice was added to those of the combatants, but his was a
voice resembling the roar of a maddened bull more than a
human voice, and a tall, bony and niuscularvlooking man, with
long, shaggy eyebrows, from beneath which two orbs of fire,
a shock of grizzly gray hair, and a mouth so “ extensive," that
the upper part of his head seemed set on hinges at the back
-—made his appearance in behalf of the settlers.

This man of giant frame and cavernous mouth, was Old
Tumult, the hunter and scout.

He came like a whirlwind among the savages, his rifle
grasped in one hand—a heavy club in the other.

The savages recoiled before him. They had felt the power
of the giant hunter‘s iron arm before.

The dull thud, of the hunters club, accompanied with
a yell, told how fearful and deadly was his work.

“Away, demons 0’ fury, away!" he shouted; “down to
the brimstone pit—the sulphurious region 1”

The savages wavered, rallied again and strove. hard to beat
down Old Tumult, but in vain. He seemed to bear a charmed
life.

Finally the savages gave way, and took to the cover of
the forest, leaving a number of dead and dying comrades be:
hind.

The settlers did not pursue the fleeing enemy. They were
glad enough to get rid of them, and at once, turned their at-
tention to their own dead and dying Comrades.

A frightful spectacle was now presented to the gaze of the
settlers. A soore of savages lay killed and wounded upon the
grassy lawn, and among them,with their heads cloven, lay several
of the settlers dead, and several wounded. The women and

 

  

I

30 ROLLO, 'rrm BOY HUNTER; on,

children, with a few exceptions, had fled into the fowst at the
commencement of the attack. Thus, a new fear for their
safety now preyed upon the minds of the settlers.

When the battle was over, Old Tumult, to whom the settlers
gave the credit of defeating the red-skins, leaned his tall, gaunt
form upon his heavy rifle, and gazed silently over the scene
before him, with a sad look upon his hard, stony features.

“ Ah, me! ah, me i” he sighed, heavily, “if I’d ’a’ known
all, this ’erc would never ’a’ been, friends.” I

“ Yes, if any of us had dreamed of such an attack being
planned, we might have prevented it,” said the Reverend
Paul Earnshaw.”

“I knowcd thar’ war sumthin’ up this mornin’, but for the
life 0’ me I couldn’t find out what it war till it war a’most too
late. You see, I war seoutin’ around the Ingin camp this
mornin’, when I sce’d ’bout fifty o’ the fiends o’ torture leave
camp and p’int thar noses this away. I follered ‘em to the
lake, and thar’ I see’d ’em strip 0’ every thing but their loin-
cloths, tie a tomahawk to their waist, and then cover their
heads with the skin 0’ a duck, with feathers, head and all on.
This done, the cunnin’ pukes waded into the water, and sub-
merged themselves to the ears, and I couldn’t have told fur
the life 0’ me, if I hadn‘t knowcd it, that thar’ war an Ingin
head in every one 0’ what seemed a genuine, livin’ duck. I
tell you it war devilish cunnin’ o’ the red hounds of Satan.
Anxious to know what they war up to, I kept under River
and watched ’em, and not until they war a‘most onto you did
I see their intention. I war then too fur away to git here
afore them, so I told ole Vibrator here”-—- patting his heavy
rifle—“ to speak out the word 0’ warnin‘. Vibrator spoke.
Then I foddeer her ag’in, with the avowed purpose 0’ jerkin’
a red-skin outen the lake. I took a dead set—Vibrator let fly
her venom, and sure enufi‘, out popped a red-skin with a hole
through his duck’s nest.

“ I knowcd the ball war opened now, and I detarmined to
have a hand in it; so I set out, and if ever a pile of ole bones
flew ‘i'ound Wildwood lake, they war Old Tumult’s.”

“ Indeed, to you, Raynor,” said Lionel Clontarf, “it is
owing that we were not all slain; but, where is Father
Ainesley 1’”-

   
        
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
   
  
 
 
 
 
 

w-..‘us.¢ug .

i

  

-.  . . ...,l .. .-

 

144.93.: $1.4.“ n-.- .y no...“ .. .,. .. . ;.   .

LIV:

THE KEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 

True enough. Reverend Israel Ainesley was missing from
the crowd, and no one knew what had become of him, unless
he had taken to the forest.

The Wounded was now cared for, and litters constructed
upon which the dead and wounded were conveyed to the post.

It was sunset ere the Women and children had been gatherd
in from the forest, and even then, two of them could not be
found.

The two were Madge Taft and Clara Bryant.

As no one had seen them after the beginning of the attack,
nor could give any information of them, all concluded that they
must have been captured and Carried off, or were lost in the
dark mazes of the forest.

Night was coming on apace. A gray mist was rising along
the river and over the forest, threatening a dark night. Be-
sides, the air was hot and sultry, and there were many indi-
cations of an early autumnal storm. Town. Farneswortl‘
shuddeer at the thought of Madge and Clara being gone, and
no doubt exposed to many dangers, if they were not already
suffering the tortures of captivity. Every energy of the young
man was aroused, and he became sorely impatient to be off in
search of the missing maidens.

But he could do little alone, and the attention of the rest
of the settlers was required at the post, to attend to the dead
and wounded, and secure the place against a night attack.

Old Tumult, the hunter and traper, volunteered his services
to Town. Town. gladly accepted, for, of all others, there
Were none he would have selected in preference to this daring
scout.

Ere night had fully set in, they had crossed the river, and
Were threading the trackless aisles of the great woods. They
had no hopes of striking the trail of the enemy that night,
owing to the darkne‘xs. Knowing, however, that if the girls
really were taken prisoners, their captors would hurry them
away toward the village, and by a forced march the two
hoped to cut them oil" from their stronghold ; for, once there,
there would be little chance for the captives.

Being well acquainted with almost every foot of the
country, Old Tumult had no difficulty in keeping his course,
and so they were thereby enabled to move quite briskly.

 

 

  

32 ROLLO, THE nor RANGER; on,

At the cabin of Talbott Taft they stopped to inquire about
Madge, but finding no one at home they pushed on.

L caving Wiltlwood lake to the left, they pursued a course
which would eventually bring them back to the Sioux river,
though many miles above the post. As they would have to
follow the course of the river after it was reached, they re-
solved to make part of the journey by water, as Old Tumult
knew where a cande was concealed along the river bank.

Fortune, however, lay in waiting for the two pursuers.

In a little valley not far from the river, gleamed the cheer-
ful light of a camp-tire, and within its radius sat five human
forms. Two of these were Madge Taft and Clara Bryant.
They sat a little in the background, with hands bound, and
llt‘iltlS bowed in grief. The third form was the reveren-

' tial figure and face of the Reverend Israel Ainesley. He was
not bound, but .‘at before the tire smoking a huge pipe, and
exercising a will of perfect freedom. The other two persons
Were painted and plumed Arapaho ludiansl

But a single glance was snilieient to convince the keen-
eyed scout and his young companion that Israel Ainesley was
in (mg/1w with the Indians.

Town. Farnesworth shuddered with disgust when he realized
what a mockery of God Ainesley had proven himself to be;
while Old Tumult could scarcely keep down the revengeful
wrath that, like an internal volcano, was surging within his
breast.

Patience, discretion and Self-control, however, were charac-
teristic traits of the old scout, born of necessity. In this lay
his great succe3s as an Indian-fighter.

The enemy seemed to have no tears of being pursued, and
were quite boisterous and regardless of danger.

“I don't. mulerstand it," said Old Tumult, when he and
Town. had crawled within easy éarshot of the camp.

“ What?" questioned Town.. in an undertone.

“ ’l‘he hilarity 0‘ them ’ere red pups. Inguns ’re generally
more km-rful."

“ Ah 1 I/utt'x the cause i" whispered Town., on seeing the gray-
baired hypocrite, Israel Aiuesley, draw from his bosom a flask
COlltttllllllj" some kind of spirits, place it to his lips, and drink,

then pass it on to his companions; “ the damnablc wretch l"

 

 

  

 

 

THE HEI'RESS 01' THE GOLDEN HORN. 83

“ Smoke 0’ torture! wuss then that l" exclaimed the old
scout; “the dabble-distilled essence o’ the brimstone-pit.”

“ “fell, what‘s the progranune now ‘3“ asked Town., growing
impatient, as he feasted his eyes upon the sweet, fair face of
Madge.

“ We must git the gals to wunst. It‘d be a easy matter, too,
to sour their captors” red ca’casses by dasliin’ in onto ’em full
tilt, but, maybe thar’s several guards skulkin’ ’bout, and siclr a
drive migliggit us inter trubble; but I'll tell ye what I'll do.”

“ Well ‘3" said Town, growing more impatient.

“I’ll string them ’ere two Ingins on a. thread 0’ fire-light,
and punch the hole with a chunk 0’ lead spit from the black
jaws o’ ole Vibrator, then we’ll dash in and settle dad Aines—
ley’s hash for ’im.”

As he concluded, the old scout drew the ramrod from his
rifle, and tixing a screw upon one end of it, inserted it into
the barrel.

“ You see, lad,” he said, twisting the rod around, “ I’m goin’
to feed a little heavier, fur I calculate one bullet to tix both
0’ ’em ’ere reds, for ye see they're settin’ in range."

In a moment he drew out the bullet from the rille, and
doubled the usual charge of powder. 110 then rammed the
‘bullet home again, replaced the ramrod and said:

“ Thar, sir, ole Vibrator is so full her sides toot out, and
now hear her speak.”

Our friends were about a htmdred paces from the enemy,
wliowere plainly visible in the light of their camp-tire. The
two savages sat side and side, and it was this fact that sug-
gested to the old scout the idea of killing both with the same
bullet.

Carefully he raised his long, heavy rifle and tired.

Town. started to his feet. The report of the piece sounded
like the roar of a cannon, and the young man was sure it bad
exploded

Close on the crash of the rifle came the deatlrwail of the
two savages. Then ()ld Tumult leaped from his eovert “lllt
a roar that would have done credit. to an African gorilla, and
shouting to his companion to follow, he (lashed into the camp.

Israel Aincsley sat half reclining upon the ground wnen
his two companions t'ell dead and for an instant he seemed

 

  

84 ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER: on,

totally paralyzed by the terrible surprise. But the shout of
Old Tumult aroused him, and springing to his feet he at-
tempted to escape into the black shadows of the forest.

But Old Tumult had marked the reverend hypocrite's
movements, and in an instant he was at Ainesley‘s heels. A
Well directed blow in the back from the seout’s sledge—hammer
fist, sent the white-haired man to grass witlnsueh velocity
that his heels described a half~circle through thegir.

Town. lt‘arnesworth sprung to the captives. But for the
presence of Clara Bryant, his first love, he would have em-
braced Madge with a shower of kisses. ,

Not knowing whether he was friend or foe at first, Madge
shrunk from his grasp, a vindictive gleam in her dark eyes.
She would have fled into the forest, had not the hand of her
lover staid her.

“ Fear not—it is me, darling," said the young man.

The gleam of fear and vengance in her eyes died out, and
she yielded to the support of her lover.

In the mean time, Israel Aincsley was struggling to escape
from the powerful clutches of Old Tumult, and the confusion
they created new drew the attention of Town. and the maid-
ens.

Ainesley attempted to gain his feet, but each effort was at-
tended with a blow from the fist of Old Tumult that sent him
back to mother earth again.

“ Oh, Mr. Raynor!” cried Madge, “ why do you treat Father
Ainesley thus? He was a prisoner like us.”

“ Not a bit 0’ it gal, ye blind leetlc critter.
traitor. Didn‘t ye see that he wer‘n’t bound ?"

“ But, he gave his word upon the honor of a Christian that
he would not escape !" pleaded Clara.

“ But he drank from the flask with the Ingins, and that are
a sure sign 0’ [bar bein’ in ca-hoots," persisted Old Tumult.

“But the Indians compelled him to,” said Madge.

At this juncture Ainesley attempted, by a sudden leap, to
get clear of the old scout, but Old Tumult was on the alert
and thrusting out his long arm and bony hand he clutched th
aged hypocrite by the snowy heard in a vice—like grip.

Ainesley surged backward like a stubborn horse, and losing
his balance, fell heavily to the earth. But Old Tumult stood

He’s a cussed

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THE KEIRESB OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 85

 

erect, his face elongated with surprise, for in his hand he still
clutched the gray whiskers of Alnesley. He held them to the
light and saw that they were fldsc whiskers ./ ‘

Madge turned almost deadly pale, and a smothered cry
burst from her lips. Clara involuntarily shrunk toward Town.,
with fear upon her sweet young face, while the young man
himself seemed terribly agitated, as he gazed upon the fallen
man.

“Smoke o’-holy torture l" roared Old Tumult, and leaping
forward he seized Ainesley and dragged him before the fire,
then, in addition to the false whiskers already stripped from
the villain’s face, he tore from his head the wig of snowy hair.

The aged face of Israel Aincsley was no longer before them,
but there was the face of one whom the settlers of Clontarf
Post had hung in the forest long weeks before, and whom
they supposed dead.

It was the handsome, yet wicked face of the renegade,
Dick Sherwood!

 

Q II A P T E R V I.
OUTWITTED.

THERE was a momentary silence following the discovery
of the existence of Dick Sherwood, in which time the bony
fingers of Old Tumult became almost buried in the flesh of
the renegade.

“ Easy, Tumult, easy l” cried the supposed defunct villain,
with a nonchalant air. “ I’ll give up the ghost since you’ve
stripped me of my reverend face and snowy locks.”

“ Essence of sin 1" exclaimed the scout; “ mocker 0’ God
——-tool of the devil, I've a notion to pulverize ye to dust l"

“ There is no doubt that you and your friends all feel like
it, Tumult, since that little hanging ati‘air didn’t shut off my
wind," said the renegade, with a smile of defiant-e. “I told
the settlers the day they hung me, that when I addressed them
again, it would be under different circumstances. So it was
The afl‘air at lake Wildwood is but the lxrginning of my ven-
geance upon those who essayed to destroy my life."

  

  

s

86 ROLLO, 'rnm BOY RANGER; on,

“The beyz'anm‘ o’ yer vengeance l." exclaimed Old Tumult;
“ ha! ha! In! that’s a good 'un. I think it‘s the eend, too,
fur when ye 'seape the clutches 0' 01d Tumult, jist whistle,
\\ lll ye ‘6" i

The bold, wieked, defiant renega'le laughed loud and bitterly,
then replied:

“ ll‘s useless to throw Words at one another, Tumult, for my
(lay has not yet eome, unless you shoot me upon this spot.”

“ No, no, Satan,” returned (lid Tumult ; “I will hand you
over to the settlers, and let them hid ye,‘ git ye henee.’ ”

“ Then bind me‘hand and foot, or (my way, so you release
your bony claws from my flesh,” returned Sherwood, with a
shrug of pain.

“ Ho! ho! ho!" roared ()ld Tumult, and he shook the
renegade as though he had been a kitten; “ why, man, ye've
only felt the weight of my hands."

With the assistanee of Town., the renegade was securely
bound hand and foot, with thongs made of the buck-skin
leggings of one of the dead savages.

The renegade, glaneed toward the two dead lndians with a
look of regret, yet when his eyes met those of the two maid-
ens, his features wore no downeast nor defeated look. Dick
Sherw'ood had no fears of death in any form. He was a
moral eoward as his deeds betokened. but physleally speaking,
he was utterly reckless in his eunning and daring.

Old Tumult and Town. now consulted as to the next steps
to be taken. They knew full well that they were in the midst,
of danger, and that it would he unsafe to remain there during
the night. They must either begin their return to the post,
or seek some sal'e retreat. llut' it beeame a question, whieh of
these two eourses they should pursue.

Suddenly they were startled by a faint rumblingr of thunder
along the wistern sky. This at out-e tlt‘(‘ltlt‘ll their eourse, as
they diseoreretl that one of those furious autumnal storms was
gathering.

“ lnsontueh as what. we 'eau't reaeh the post to-night,
’speeially More the storm, we‘d better take refuge on the Two
Islands, in the Sioux river. Thar‘s a kind 0’ shanty on one 0’
’cm, that; ’11 do to pertect yerself and the gals from the storm.
As to mo,1‘m storm-proof, T)wu”

    

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m mass on THE GOLDEN noun. 87

“ It shall all be as you say, Tumult,” replied Town. ; l‘ you
know what. is best for us.” _

So preparations were at once made for departure to the
Two Islands. Sherwood‘s feet were unbound, and to prevent;
his escape in the dark, 3 strong rope was made of hickory-
hark, and one end attached to the renegade's neck—Old
Tumult keeping the other end in his hand.

Town. Farnesworth, following the old scout and his prisoner,
conducted Madge and Clara through the almost impenetrable
gloom of the woods.

An hour‘s walking brought them to the Little Sioux river,
at a point opposite the Two Islands. Old Tumult drew from
under some reeds and aquatic plants, a large canoe, that he
had concealed them the day previous, and the party at once
embarked for the islands.

The Little Sioux river was not a large stream, but at this
point the Two Islands forced the water outward, making the
stream fully one hundred yards wide on each side of
them.

Two Islands were not over a sixth of an acre each in area.
They were divided by a deep, but swift and narrow channel
of water, and covered by a dense growth of vegetation and
driftwood. A beautiful archway- of shrubhery was formed by
the foliage of each island growing outward, and interlacing
over the channel that separated the islands

Having landed upon the western island, Old Tumult drew
the canoe partly upon the beach, then led the way 'arefully
toward the interior of the island.

By this time a bank of ominous black clouds had reared its
head high up against the western "ky, while along its purple,
jagged edges, the red lightning ran its old fiery race, making
the gloom that followed each llash pitchy black. The dull
rumble of thunder had become continuous and sullen, and the
whole surrounding had an air of awful solemnity about it.

Clara Bryant covered her eyes to shut out the blinding glare

of the lightning, and shuddered when the hot winds touched

her pale cheeks. Not so with Madge. A smile, that was
almost grim in CX]H‘CSSlt)Il, rested upon her fair face; and her
eyes shone with unusual brilliancy. The coming storm filled
her breast, seemingly, with some wild joy and secret hope.

76 2

 

    

 

88 noun, THE 301’ RANGER; on,

Dick Sherwood was silent, but the lightning’s glare showes
his handsome face aglow with sinful radiance.

Pushing aside some bushes, Old Tumult pointed to a small,
cone—shaped structure that stood within a little opening in the
center of the island, and said :

“ Thar‘s a little shanty o’ mine that ‘11 do to pertect you
and the gals from the storm, Town. Me and this essence o’
Satan here can tuck ourselves under a bush and grin it through
till mornin‘." '

“The girls can occupy it," returned Town., “and I will
assist you to guard the island, since there is no telling what
dangers surround us.” ‘ '

Town. conducted the maidens into the little hut, then went
out and assisted Old Tumult in binding Dick Sherwood to a
sapling that stood within a few feet of the building.

The renegade was so tightly and securely bound, that he
fairly groaned with pain.

This done, Old Tumult said:

“ Now I’ll reconnoiter the island and see that no lurkin’
red-skins are ’bout.” ‘

He took up his rifle and glided away among the shrubbery
like a phantom.

Town. stood alone by the renegade. Neither spoke. Town.
was too absorbed in his own reflections to think of aught but
the sweet, fair face of Madge Taft. Dick Sherwood began
humming a low, wild song, fixing his eyes upon the hut as he
did so.

In a moment all was still again but the wind and thunder.
Town. noticed that Sherwood still kept his eyes upon the lit-
tle cone-shaped hut, and so Town. himself glanced that way.
He started. A gleam of lightning showed to him a human
hand protruding from a small opening in the side of the
hut. In that mysterious hand was clutched a small, glitter-
tering dagger.

“ Heavens! what can that mean ‘?" thought Town, “ it was
not the hand of either of the girls; it was too large. What
if an enemy— Ah, what now ‘2”

It was a hasty movement upon the upper side of the island
that interrupted him-a movement that produced a sound re-
sembling the threshing of a heavy body through the under

  

 

 

    

 

 

 

 
 

 

TILE HEIREBI OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 89

growth. This sound was followed by a dull thud, then upon
the wings of the gathering storm came a wild yell from the
lips of Old Tumult, again followed by a triumphant, mocking
laugh. Then all became still again, and while Town. stood
trying to gain some solution to the mysterious proceedings, the.
old scout approached him unseen and touched him upon the
shoulder.

Town. started.

“ This way, lad,” said the scout.

Town. followed him to the upper margin of the island,
when he drew from the forks of a bush and held up before
him a human scalp.

“ Where did you get that?” asked Town, with a shudder
of disgust.

“ Thar,” replied Old Tumult, pointing to the ground.

Town. looked and saw the lileless body of an Indian lying
at his feet.

“ I found the rod hound skulking on this very island,” said
Old Tumult. ’

“ And did you slay him ‘r” ’

“ Ya-as. lt war a neat job, too; the demon didn’t git a
chance to screech afore I closed his weazen, and slid his hair
off. It lOtMlOOdy and wicked to you, lad, but sich is the
game. i It don‘t take long to git used to it, either."

At this juncture drops of rain began to fall.

“ Go to the shanty, lad, or ye'll git wet,” said Old Tu-
mull.

“ I am no better than you, Tumult; if it will not hurt you,
it will not hurt me.”

“ Yer plucky, lad; but let us_not tarry here too long. We
must keep an eye on Sherwood? I brought you here to show
you that danger lurked about.”

This remark of the old scout reminded Town. of the hand
'he had seen thrust from a crack in the hut, and he at once
narrated it to him.

“ Smoke 0’ torture l" exclaimed the scout, turning toward
the hut; “ come, lad, come.”

They hastily retraced their steps toward the cabin ; as they
neared it, a long, vivid flash of lightning showchthem that
Dick Sherwood was gone .’

r

  

    

 

40 ROLLO, THE 301 RANGER; on,

Old Tumult fairly roared with rage and anger

Town. rushed into the hut, excitedly calling on Madge and
Clara. But there was no response. He gropcd about the
room and found that it was empty 1

Wild with excitement he rushed out into the pelting
storm.

“The girls—they, too, are gone, Tumult l” he exclaimed.

“ Smoke 0’ torture] that essence o’ Satan has outwitted us
after all our precaution— Hark !"

They bent their heads and listened, and from far out upon
the water came the imploring cry:

“ Save me, Town., save me! help! help 1”

It was the voice of Madge Taft.

CHAPTER VII.
IN THE norm OF A DILEMMA.

TnE rain was now coming down in a perfect torrent.
The heavens were one broad sheet of red flame. The thun
der rolled inel-ssantly along the storm-glrded sky. The winds

- ruinhled wildly and ghostlike through the dark avenues of
the forest, and lashed the waters of the river to a foam.

ToWn. Farnesworth stood aghast.

Old Tumult, gazing out upon the river, saw by the light-
ning‘s flash, a canoe containing three or four persons making
rapidly for the shore!

" Come, Town.,” he yell. darting across the island, “and
by the gods we will catch that essence 0’ Satan again.”

Town. followed him to the shore,where both met with another
surpri 0.

Their canoe was gone!

“ The gals are lost, Town. ; Satan and his imps have beaten
us. We‘re bound to stay here now till the storm ahatcs, or
Providence sends us a Canoe.”

“ Merciful Heaven i” cried Town., “ can we not swim ashore,
C.’ construct a raft of driftwood?”

 

 

ind
;he

“8

THE HEIREBS or THE GOLDEN norm. 41

“ Not while the river is tossin’ so, Town. We could not
man a raft now. Even if we could, we might run right into
a nest of red-skins that are no doubt watchin’ for’ us this
minnit. Be patient, Town.; I know it goes hard with yet
heart affairs, but patience is the key to success in Injun
scoutin’.”

The two returned to the but and went in out of the storm.
Town. grew almost sick at heart as he sat and listened to the
driving rain and howling winds, and realized that the two
maidens were exposed to its fury, and he unable to assist
them.

Old Tumult became quite calm in consequence of his de-
feat by Sherwood and his Indians, for he was sure he saw,
at least, two Indians with him and his captives in the fleeing
canoe...

No rest nor sleep came to to the weary bodies and heavy
eyes of Old Tumult and Town. that night.

The storm seemed to increase in fury each moment, and in

order to dispel some of the (lamp, dismal gloom that seemed
pervaded with an atmosphere and foreboding of danger, a
fire was lighted within the hut.
‘ The light showed an expression of bitter anxiety and sus
pense upon the face of young Farnesworth, while the hard,
stony features of Old Tumult wore a grim smile denoting
doubt and perplexity.

Every few minutes the old scout would go out and re-
connoiter the island to make sure that no lurking red-skins
were around. It was far past midnight, when on returning
from one of these scouts, that Town. noticed his voice and ac-
tions were somewhat agitated, and asked:

“ What is the matter, Tumult ?”

“ Why ‘3"

“ Your Voice seems agitated.”

“ Wal, I‘ve diskivered sumthin’.”

“ What ?” and Town. started up.

“ The river is risin‘ rapidly.”

“ What of that”

“ In an hour more this ’cre island will be overflown l"

“ My God, Tumult! is it possible i"

“. Yagas. Thar's never been sich a rain in these parts

 

 

£2 BOLLO, ma Bot ‘ANGER; on,

sense the rainy season seven years ago. A half a day’s
rainin‘ raised the river then till the Two Islands were com-
pletely kivered, sumthin’ that has never been done sense.”

“that are we to do, if the island is ()vcrllown ?” asked
Town.

“ That’s easier axed than answered, lad. The wind is
tossin’ the seethin waters up into little mountains—ah! hear
’eir. dash upon the island ! We Could never stick to a raft——
the waves 'd wash us away like lumps o’ dirt.”

“God in heaven, are we to perish thus ?” cried Town.,
gazing out upon the roaring river.

“ Never say die, lat ," returned the scout, “ there’s hope as
long as thar’s life. We may escape yit.”

“ How ‘3"

“By elimbin’ into one o‘ the large saplin’s outside;

“True, true; I had never thought of that. But will not
the floating debris lodge against the bushes and bear them
down ?”

“ 'l‘har‘ll he danger, but it's our only resort, Town.”

“ Then let us hasten to climb the saplings, for already I
can hear the water creeping among the undergrowth, like a.
serpent—there—lleavens !"

It was a huge wave that dashed upon the island and rolled
half a knee deep over—-erept into the cabin and drowned
out the fire.

For the next half-minute the two men stood wrapped in
total darkness, with the wild, seething waters rolling around
them. Then a prolonged flare of the red lightning revealed
the swollen river and the dark wood-land beyond.

Wave after wave dashing against the island warned the old
scout and Town. of their danger.

Procuring their Weapons they climbed into the largest
sapling upon the island, and seated themselves securely among
the topmost branches. They now found themselves some
ten feet above the surface of the island. The tree was of
sufficient size and strength to withstand the prestsure of the
atood in case no heavy weight of floating debris lodged against
1 .

The wind blew so fierce that it required every effort of
our two friends to keep their seats in the tree. It was but

  

 

 

    

 

 

 

    

    

'run mum or run 001.0311 HORN. 48

a few minutes until they were drenched to the skin, though
the green foliage around them protected them, in a great
measure, from the driving force of the rain.

Half an hour after they had sought their new retreat, a
huge wave rolled over the island and swept the hut away.
In a few minutes more the Twu Islands were entirely sub-
merged, and the wild waves booming over them.

Not until the approach of day did the storm break away.

As the sun arose the rain ceased to fall, the wind went
down, the clouds became broken, and in a few minutes the
blue vault was sparkling clear and bright.

Our friends breathed an air of relief, but their heads grew
dizzy when they gazed on the roaring tlood beneath them.

Out upon either side the water had overtlown the river
banks and spread out a hundred yards into the bottom. Its
turbulent current was black with floating logs and debris.

The tree in which our friends sat quivered under the agi-
tated motion of the water, and ever and anon a floating log
would strike it with a force that threatened to bear it
down.

Wild birds wheeled and circled over their heads with a
startled shriek, as though trying to add new terror to their
already trying situation.

Old Tumult ran his eyes along 'the eastern shore in hopes
of seeing some one that he could call to their assistance.
But only wave after wave of the great prairie could be seen,
rolling away in the distant haze of that autumnal morning.
He turned his head and gazed toward the wooded shore.
He saw a bird soar upward with a startled shriek from that
point in the woods where the water had overtlown the
bank. . .

A novice in woodcraft would have paid no particular at-
tention to so trival a fact, but Old Tumult saw at once, that
the bird had been frightened by something mmsual.

In this the old scout was right. The next moment a large
canoe, containing half a dozen Arapaho Indians, glided
swiftly out from among the timber on the inundated shore,
and bore down directly toward our friends.

Among the savages, our friends recognized the presence of
Dick Sherwood, who, as the canoe glided from among the

44 301.120, 'rnn nor RANGER; on,

timber into the main channel of the river, arose to his feet
and shouted:

“ Surrender, Old Tumult and Town. Farnesworth, or by the
heavens above-you, and the water beneath, you will be rid-
dled with bullets 1”

CHAPTER VIII.
m nnrnornAL.

ALTHOUGH the whites were the common enemy of the
Sioux and Arapaho Indians at the time of which I write, a
deadly feud existed between the two tribes, growing out of a
dispute as to the rightful ownership of a section of territory

-ab0unding with game—since named the Neutral Grounds. I

The Sioux hunted the Arapaho and the Arapaho hunted
the Sioux with the same deadly intent that each hunted the
white man.

Being equal in point of number, neither tribe would yield
its claim, and it is thus that the opening of our story finds
them arrayed against each other.

It is on the morning following the night of storm that we
would lead the reader into a temporary encampent of the
Arapaho Indians.

The encampment was well located upon a hillside, and.
surrounded on all sides by the forest. The lodges were ar-
ranged in rows or streets facing a small square. In the cen~
ter of the square stood the council lodge, and that of the
prophet. On each side (I the prophet’s lodge stood a small
one which bore evidence of having been lately placed there.

The storm had cl *ared away and there were few traces of
it remaining in the Indian encampment. The sun was shin-
ing brightly, and a cool, pleasant breeze was drifting through
the forest.

The Indians Were astir quite early. Something of unusual
occurrence prevailed in the encampment. The two small

tents by the prophet‘s lodge seemed to be the point of attrac-
tion.

5

    

am

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mmlfld

 
   

« WM- .,

THE mm OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 45

Presently the door of the prophet’s lodge was thrust aside,
and the great prOphet made his appearance. He was a white
man, and no other than Dick Sherwood, the handsome, villain-
ous renegade:

From his lodge the prophet turned to the one at the right,
which he entered without ceremony.

The interior of the little lodge was furnished with all the
comfort and taste of savage Wealth and ingenuity. The floor
was covered with soft skins, the walls- were hung with ta-
pestry of ornamented bucx-skm, while strands of wampum,
strands of beads and shells, and curious figures carved from
bone and wood adorned the walls and ceiling. '

At one side, on a couch of furs, sat a beautiful white wo-
man, from all appearances a captive, though her face wore
no look of sadness nor grief. This woman was Madge, the
daughter of Talbott Taft, the Indian trader.

“ My pretty captive looks none the worse of her night’s ex-
posure in the storm," said Sherwood, as he entered her tent,
with an air of mock politeness.

Madge looked up at tho renegade and smiled scornfully.

“ I am feeling quite well, and none the worse of my ex-

pOSure,” she replied, in a defiant tone.
‘ “ I am glad to hear it, Miss Taft,” the villain replied ;
“ perhaps we can come to some definite terms, as to the fu-
ture. I think I will have no trouble in bringing that modest
little violet, Clara Bryant, to a pleasant reconciliation.”

“ Just so,” mockingly returned Madge.

The villaln continued:

“ However, Miss Taft, it is likely that you have great in-
fluenca with Miss Bryant, and if you will go to her, and in-
duce her—make her believe that her only salvation lies in her
becoming my lawful wife, you will be set at liberty. If she
will consent to marry me to-morrow, I will send for the mis-
sionary, Father J ales, and have him perform the ceremony.
Then, with his certificate of our marriage in my pocket, my
mission will be ended, and I will bid farewell to this heathen
country and return to the East, the heir to a vast fortune
\Vhat say you ?"

Madge smiled scornfully, yet strangely, as she replied:

" I will dn any thing to get rid of your odious presence. I

    

\

46 BOLLO, run 301 RANGER; on,
will lay your proposition before Clara, and then she can do
as she sees fit. But were it me, I’d see you burning before I
would submit to Wed you."

The renegade laughed long and loudly, then said:

“ Remember, Miss ’l‘al’t,”—-laying a marked emphasis upon
the “ Miss ”—" as I told you last night, as soon as Clara is my
wife, and I have Father Jules” certificate of our marriage in
my pocket, she shall be set at liberty. As her husband, I will
press no further claims upon her. All I want is something
to show my right to—well, you know what—the Golden Horn
estate."

Madge arose to leave the lodge.

“I will go at once and see Clara," she said.

“Then I will wait your return,” said Sherwood.

Madge Went out into the little tent where Clara Bryant was
a prisoner. She found the maiden weeping, with face pale
and sorrowful.

“ Oh, Clara 1" cried Madge,“ I have come to you with what
I hope will be good newa”

Clara looked quickly up, a light of hope in her tearful eyes.

“ Has he decided to set us free—to allow us to return
home ‘3" she asked.

“ On certain conditions, dear Clara.”

“ What are they ?”

“ That you, sweet Clara, bewme his wife.”

“ Sherwood’s wife l” gasped Clara.

6‘ Yes.”

“ Never, never, Madge l" and there was a momentary flash
of defiance in her eyes, but it soon died away.

“Listen, Clara,” said Madge, “the moment that you are
wed to Sherwood, we will both be set at liberty. He has
promised to force no claims upon you as your husbant.”

“ Then why does he Wish to marry me ‘3”

“ Out of pure revenge. You know he is a desperate char-
acter, Clara.”

“ Revenge upon me ?”

“‘ No; but upon Town. Farnesworth, whom he hates above
all else upon earth, and whom he believes loves you."

Malge looked closely into the face of her companion on
she spoke, and saw a crimson flush mount to her cheeks.

       

 

 

ivyasw. . 

    

 

 
  

rm: mmurss or rm: GOLDEN norm. 47

“But, you know, Madge, that Town. does not love me."

“ Why should I know, Clara.”

“ Because Town. loves you."

“ You surprise me, Clara ; however, Sherwood believes that
Town. loves you, and he has set his wicked heart on marry-
ing you for revenge."

“ Oh, Madge! I wish I was as brave and fearless as you '

r
y

are, then I would know how to decide. You must ad-
vise me, Madge. Your judgment will dictate the proper course
for me to pursue.”

Madge’s eyes shone brightly.

“Clara,” she said, softly, “, although Dick Sherwood is a
desperate character, I believe there is some honor about him ;
and I further believe that if you marry him, he will set us
free. Of course, when we are free, we will declare your mar-
riage a forced one, and that will make it null and void, though
the wretch does not know it; so he will have no claim upon
you after all, and it will be such a clever jokB on him.”

Clara smiled sadly, and her lips quivered as, half in doubt,
she asked :

“ Then you advise me to marry him ?"

“It is our only hope, Clara.”

“ Then I must consent.”

“Then I will see him and tell him. If you agreed to his
propositions, he said he would have the wedding take place
to-morrow."

Madge left the tent and returned to her own, where Sher-
wood was awaiting her.

“ Well,” said the renegade, as she entered.

“ It is all right," returned Madge, and the shadow of a
wicked smile hovered around her mouth.

Sherwood laughed one of his cold, devilish laughs.

Then he clapped his hands and cried :

“Vengeance! vengeance! my sweet Cecil, and a long life
at the Golden Horn 2"

And strange though it was, Madge clapped [her hands and
laughed too.

In a moment Sherwood continued:

“ Yes, sweet Annette, my mission—my secret miSsion in tho
wtet V!"' 1.12“ be ended, and then for the Golden IIornl

l

  

    

48 BOLLO, Tm: BOY RANGER; on,
But, I must have one man’s life before I go, the life of Old
Tumult, the hunter. I could never rest easy—not even in the
grave—without revenge upon that giant. I know he is shut
up on one of the Two Islands, if he and his young friend,
Farnesworth, have not been WHShRd away by the flood. Hal
ha! ha! that escape from the island last night with the
two maidens was nicely made, fair Annette l”

The villain went on with his talk, like one speaking to him-
self, or an imaginary person. He seemed totally unconscious
of Madgc's presence.

“You are surely out of your wits, great prophet of the
Arapahoes,” said the trader‘s daughter, sneeringly.

“ No, no; only indulging in a hit of sclf~cotnmunion, Miss
Taft.” he replied ; “ but, by the gods, 1 will have the life of
Old Tumultl To‘morrow Clara shall be my wife, and then
for the Golden Horn and long life, my sweet Cecil 1”

As the handsome villain concluded his wild soliloquy, he
turned and went gut of the lodge.

When she found herself alone, Madge threw herself upon
the couch of skins, and burst into a. fit of hysterical mughter
which ended in an outburst of tears.

Dick Sherwood, burning with a desire for revenge upon
Old Tumult, and conscious of his inability to cope with him in
physical strength, selected five of the best warriors in the
tribe and set off for Two Islands, determined to capture the
old scout at all hazards, dead or alive. Besides, the warriors
that accompanied him were stimulated by a handsome reward,
otl‘ered by their chief, for the scalp of their most terrible enemy,
Old Tumult, the hunter and scout.

     

 

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THE HEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN.

CHAPTER XI.
A STARTLING SURPRISE.

As the voice of Sherwood rolled across the water in his
demand for the surrender of Old Tumult and Town., the old
scout burst into a roar of laughter that fairly shook the tree
in which he was perched; then, in a tone peculiar to his
powerful lungs, he requested the renegade to go to—-that very
warm region prepared for the wicked.

The enetny were above them, where they could avail them-
selves of the force of the current, and no sooner did they hear
the old scout's reply, than they began bearing down toward
them at a. rapid speed. '

Our friends could see that the enemy were armed with
rifles, but. as they did not fire upon them, they knew the dis-
tance was too great for the range of a common firearm, they
——the enemy—heing over two hundred yards above them.

“Death is a dead certainty with us now, Tumult,” said

Tow n.'

“'l‘hings look kinder scaly, lad, but I‘m thinkin’ that ’ere
essence o’ Satan has miscalculated our situation ; or else they
don‘t know as how old Vibrator here can flip lead—thatwe‘ve
got titles, too.”

“ But the rain has made my ritle perfectly useless, Tumult,
and my ammunition is soakintc,r wet," said Town, regret-
fully.

“ Vibrator is all right. I didn‘t furgit to keep her muzzle
down, and her nipple dry. My powder is in a water-proof
horn, and now PM see if I can‘t Check the speed 0‘ them ’are
critters aforc they git in range for their bird-pickers.”

As he Concluded, the old scout thrust his ritle through the
foliage, took a delilterat ‘, aim, and fired. Had a torpedo ex-
ploded under the advancingjr canoe, it eothl not have caused
greater Consternation than did the shot tired by Old Tumult.
It. was wholly unexpected hy the enemy. Sherwood had
convinced the savages that there was nothing to fear from the

    

50 none, THE BOY RANGER; on,

whites—~that their firearms were rendered useless by the rain.
But, when one of their number fell dead-shot through the
head with a half-ounce ball—all their savage anticipations of
a pair of scalps fled, and turning their canoe shoreward, they
fled equally as fast. v

Old Tumult, with all the lion force of his lungs, gave vent
to a triumphant, defiant yell, and a derisive, mocking laugh,
that made the very blood of Dick Sherwood’s veins leap hot
with rage, and burn with resentment.

“ That‘ll be apt to set the hounds o‘ Satan red-hot,” said the
old scout, as the enemy disappeared in the flooded timber;
“and We’ve got to keep a close look-out, fur they ’11 try every
way that their cunnin’ brain kin invent to git our skulps.”

The, new danger stimulated, rather than depressed, the
spirit of our friends, and they began to view their situation in
a rather novel light; but how long this would last was
a question of doubt. True, the water was falling fast, still it
would be scvmil hours before they could set foot upon the
island ; and,‘without great precaution, in that time the enemy
might bring to bear upon them some means that Would dis-
lodge them. The only dilficulty that they experienced in their
elevated retreat was the numbness of their limbs, occasioned
by inactivity and the cramped position they were compelled to
retain. ,

Town. drew the wet charge from his rifle, and reloaded
with powder from Old 'I‘mnult.’s horn, and thus in a few min-
utes he had his piece ready for use.

Something like an hour had passed after the defeat of
Sherwood, when the attention of our floodbound friends was

attracted by a huge raft of driftwood coming down the river;

It was some four hundred yards away when first discovered,
and although a number of such rafts of flood-collected debris
had passed down the river since daylight, this was the first
one that attracted unusual attention from the keen eyes of
Old Tumult.

“ Thar’s deviltry up, boy,” said the ‘tld scout ; “that ‘ere raft
0' wood and sich, looks a leetle suspicious."

“ What do you judge from ?" asked Town.

“ Wat, thar’s too many logs piled on top 0’ one anuther;
md \‘en Ybu see thar's some brush and sir h, piled onto the

 
   

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12’

 

tin.
the

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.A.

rrm; nsmsss or rm: GOLDEN nonx. _, 51

logs, in a kind 0‘ a careless way, it‘s true ; but I would not be
afraid to bet there war Ingins among that ’ere driftwood.”

“If there is, we will give them a chunk or two of cold
lead," said Town., fixing his eyes upon the raft.

“ Alt—they’re too sharp fur that, lad. They're layin’ ahind
the logs—meth half buried in the water—and jist as soon as
they git close enough, we‘ll hear, if we don’t feel, cold lead
rattlin’ ’round ‘us. Things begin to look scaly, boy, for us,
or I’m no judge.”

The two men felt no little uneasiness for the next ten min-
utes as to the real character of the ralt. lf there were In-
dians about it, as Old Tumult had no doubt but; there were,
they were so hidden among the logs and bushes as to defy all
efforts of discovery, while at the same time the whites would
be expost to the rifles of the hidden enemy.

They could do nothing but watch and Wait, while the raft
continued to drift slowly toward them. It was about a bun-
dred yards away when Old Tumult was sure he saw the head
of a savage peering over a log, and, to convince himself as to
whether such really was the case, he raised his ritle and fired
at the ohject.

But, the smart never knew whether or not it was an In-
dian's head, nor what had been the etl'eet of his shot, for, sim-
ultaneous with the report of the rifle, the raft dropped into a
strong, surging eddy -—swung swiftly around a number of
times, and then, as if a magazine had exploded in its evidst,
it flew apart——eVery log became separated from each other by
the circling force of the water; and there, in the midst of the
whirling, rolling logs and debris, were a half a dozen Indians,
struggling desperately with the waves.

Old Tumult burst into a roar of laughter when he discov-
ered this providentinl misfortune to the savages.

As the scout. had mistt‘usted, the red-skins had secreted
themselves among the logs and debris; and, but for the part
ing of the rift in the eddy, ant the sudden precipitation of
the cunning foe into the seething waters, it is very probable
that our friends “'Uuld have been shot down in another mo-

ment.
As fast as Old Tumult could load and fire upon the strug-
gling, panic-stricken enemy, he did so with telling effect.

 

 

    

52

ROLLO, TlIl-Z BUY RANGER; OR,

And those of the savages that escaped his deadly aim, were
overpowered by the waves and swept away.

Again our friends had nothing, for the moment, to fear from
the Arapahoes.

A silence ensued.

Town. was thinking of Madge and Clara, while Old Tumult:
was silently wondering what course the enemy would next
resort to, to dislodge them from their retr -at.

Suddenly they were startled by the sharp twang of a horn.

The sound came from the eastern shore. They glanced in
that direction and discovered a horseman moving along the
shore toward the north.

They recognized him at the first glance.

It was Rollo, the Boy Ranger.

Old Tumult placed his hat upon the muzzle of his gun and
WaVetl it above his head, shouting at the top of his lungs.

The young ranger drew rein and answered the scout's shout
by a blast from his horn and a waving of his scarlet cap.

“ Ay, Rollo, my lad,” called the scout, “it's rather a cramp-
ed condition we’re in, and all fur want 0’ help."

The youngr ranger was not over two hundred yards away,
and had no ditlieuhy in catching the scout’s words.

“ Then you shall want no longer, old friend,” replied the
ranger ; “ 1 wiil resist you at once.”

“ But how kin ye, my lad ‘2” asked the scout.

“I will hasten up the river to King’s Ford and get the old
ferryrfi'an‘s boat," returned the youth.

“ That‘ll do, my gallant boy; jist run the boat under this
’cre tree and We‘ll be ready to drop down into it.”

\Vith a wave of his scarlet cap, the ranger dashed away on
his mission. It was about three miles to what was known as
King‘s Ford, where an old half-breed by the name of King
had built a ferry-boat, for the purpose of transferring the
loaded teams of settlers from one side to the other during
high waters.

()ur friends (lid not expect the return of the ranger with
the boat under two hours, but scarcely an hour had elapsed
when, to their surprise, they saw the youth with the boat put

around the bend in the stream above, not over three hundred
yards distant.

 

 
 

 
     

 

a
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t

\

 

 

THE HEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 

It is necessary that we should here give a brief diseription
of the ferry-boat, for reasons which will be made known here-
after.

It was about twenty feet in length, by half that length in
width, and constructed on the principle of a large canoe;
then, in order to make it more convenient for loaded teams,
a slab floor, or deck, was laid across the top frotn side to side,
thus forming a hold about two feet deep beneath the slab
deck. A pair of sweeps and a tiller constituted the..propell-
ing and guiding apparatuSt-s of the craft. At the prow of
the boat was an opening or hatchway, about two feet square,
leading into the hold. This opening was covered with a
stout slab in which was fixed a ring and staple for raising.

Old Tumult hailed the approweh of the ranger with a wild
shout, and then they began to prepare to leave their elevated
retreat.

Rollo had no need of the sweeps. The force of the cur-
rent carried the boat along quite rapidly, and he had only to
stand at the tiller and keep the boat in the proper course to
pass over the inundated island.

When the boat was within fifty yards of our friends, Old
Tumult shouted :

, “ Ye made a party quick trip up to the Ford, lad."

“It would have been, had I went to the ferry, but the fact
of it is, I found the boat stranded about a mile above here."

“ Possible!" exclaimed the scout, while Town. peered
through the foliage at the ranger with a puzzled expression
upon his face.

“ Yes,” returned the youth, bending slightly upon the tiller;
“ the flood had Washed it from its mooring and drifted it down
stream about two miles, where it lodged, and where I found,
it."

“ Wal, it’s all luck—bear to the left, lad, bear to the left—
let the prow strike the tree midways—bear hard—there—smoke
of tortures l" .

The exclamation was caused by the ferry-boat striking the
tree, or sapling, with such sudden force that our two friends -
were nearly shaken from its branches. However, the boat
came to a stand, and the next moment our friends stood upon
Its deck.

 

54

nonno, Tum nor RANGER; on,

Old Tumult fairly danced with joy, while Town. was com—
pelled to rub his limbs vigorously in order to restore the cir-
culation.

Old Tumult pushed the boat clear‘ of the tree, and the
next moment it was slowly veering off toward the western
shore.

The scout and the young ranger entered into a conversa-
tion, and in a moment the latter was in possession of all the
facts that placed our two heroes in the predicament in which
he found them.

Rollo then gave the scout and Town. some joyful news
of the whereabouts of the two captives. Madge Taft and
Clara Bryant. He had seen them taken to the village of
the prophet, while scouting thereabouts, and but for the su-
periority in number of the savages he would have attempted
their rescue. This was joyful news to the scout and Town.,
not because the maidens were captives in the Indian vil-
lage, but to know they had survived the peril of the night‘s
storm.

“ Did the captives seem much depressed in spirit ‘2" asked
Town.

“ Miss Taft," returned the- ranger, glancing toward the
shore as if to coneutl the smile that passed over his dark,
handsome face, “seemed very sad and downeast, when she
was conducted by where I was lying concealed in the un-
Clergfowtht”

A sigh, that deepened almost into a. grown, escaped Town’s
-tps.

“I tell ye what, Town,” said Old Tumult, “I know it goes
plaguy tall with a feller when he‘s mixed up in a heart-af-
fair with a party gal, and that gal ’s a priSoner in the hands
(5‘ a pack 0’ red-skins. I know it goes tutl', fur I’ve been thar,
Town."

ltollo, the Boy Ranger, smiled again, as be carefully noted
his course and moved the tiller :tecm‘diugly.

A silence, broken only by the swash of the water around
the boat, ensued. '

Old Tumult was thinking of the past; Town. of Madge,
while the ranger, apparently plunged in mental obl.vion, bo-
gan whistling softly.

 

    

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TILE IIEIRESB OF THE crowns HORN. 55

Suddenly, as it moved by a single and intuitive impulse,
the old scout and Town. glanced at Rollo. The eyes of the
ranger were fixed upon the forward part of the boat with a.
strange expression shining from their dark d;pths.

Again, as if moved by some unknown impulse, the eyes of
Old Tumult and Town. sought the object of the rangers at-
tention, and to their horror and surprise they beheld the slab
over the hatchway pushed aside, and a giant savage leap
from the hold of the boat onto the deck, followed by another
until four of the painted demons stood before them, their
faces aglow with diabolical triumph!

CHAPTER X .

A DESPERATE CONFLICT.

OLD TUMULT and Town. reeoiled before the visionary blow
that the sudden and undreamed—of appearance of the four
savages produced upon them. But, it was only for a moment
that their presence of mind seemed to desert them.

Each of the savages clutched a tomahawk in his hand,
and our friends at once saw the advantage of the foe in wea-
pons as well as number.

Rollo did not relinquish his post at the tiller, but, for some
reason, headed the boat, at once, directly dowu the stream.

Town., as he mechanically glanced from one to the other of
his friends, noticed the saber dangling at the rangers side,
and foreseeng its suptriority in a hand-to-hand conilict,
reached forward and snatched it from the seahhard.

Then he made a quick spring toward a savage, and, with a
desperate lungc, drove the slender blade to the heart of the
foe.

Up to this instant the savages stood facing the whites, will.-
out making a. single demonstration. It was quite evident
that the cunning demons had expected their sudden and an-
expected presence to completely terrify the whites to a blood.
«as submisaion. In this, howeVer, they were sorely surprised,

 

  

00 1t0LLO,~TB.’E BOY RANGER; on,
for, at the same instant that Town. ran one of them through
with Rollo‘s saber, Old Tumult dropped his rifle and dealt
the seeond one a blow with his huge list, that sent him whirls
ing overboard into the river. Then, with a roar equal to that
of a maddcned lion, he leaped at the third savage, while
Town. engaged the fourth.

The savage with whom Old Tumult grappled hand to hand,
was the scouts equal in every respect If there was any dif-
ference in weight. it was in ftht)!‘ of the deep, wide-chested
Arapaho. In so close a grapple, the savage was compelled

to drop his tomahawk, and then, in endeavoring to draw his V

knife, it slipped from his fingers and fell to the deck.

Thus deprived of all the weapons save those‘that nature
gave them, the two giant enemies “clinched.”

The contest at once became desperate. It was a battle of
life and death. '

Town. Farnesworth, brave as a lion and quick as a flash,
soon gained the advantage over his foe and ran him through
with the saber. As he rolled dead at his feet, the young man
turned to a5sist the old scout. but at that instant the two
giant combnt'ants, locked in each other’s embrace, staggered
backward and rolled through the hatehway into the boat’s
lit)l(l.

“ My God I” exclaimed Town, rushing to the opening and
looking down. But he saw nothing of the combatants.
Back in the hold, two feet from the hatchway, it was dark as
midnight. Besides, to render the situation more critical, there
was several inches of water in the hold.

Town. started lip—his brain burning with wild excitement.
The death of his friend seemed inevitable. ’

He turned inquirineg toward Rollo, who, as yet, had never
left the tiller. What must. have been his surprise and con-
sternation to see the ranger sto_op and assist On board the sav-
age that Old Tumult had knocked overboard at the begin
ning of the conflict.

“Rollo! Rollo !” cried Town. “ what means this it” and,
springing forward, he severed the head of the savage almost
from the body, with a single sweep of the ranger‘s saber.

“Heavens, Farnesworthl I must be crazy—helping the
rod demon on the boat to slay me,” he cried, “ ’tis well you

  

     

 

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THE mamass or Tm! comm norm. 5?
came; I was so excited that I did not know what I was
doing.” ,

There was a strange light in the ranger’s eyes, and a strange

intonation in his voice.
‘ Town. regarded him for a moment with suspicion, and he
had it in his mind to accuse him of being a traitor, when his
thoughts were drawn away by the desperate struggling going
on in the hold below.

Town. would have rushed down to assist his old friend,
had he not been afraid of assisting the wrong one, in the
darkness that prevailed therein. He could do nothing but
wait and listen, and hope for the best. He could hear them
rolling and struggling in the water; he could hear their heavy,
lagored breathing, and the dull thud and crash of their fists——
even feel the vibratory shock of each blow. and the dull
thumping of their bodies against the under side of the deck.

Now and then all would become quiet and still, as though
no life was there below.

Town. felt a. chill of terror creep over him, as he thought
that the savage may have slain his friend, and was then creep-
ing with the silence of a shadow toward the hatchway, to
leap out. and murder him. He was relieved of these fears,
however, when the struggling, pounding and groaning would
begin again with reneWed vigor.

The dipping of the canoe showed that the combatants were
first upon one side and then the other. A hollow moan n‘bw
and then came from the dark pit, followed by a gurgling
shriek or strangling cry. A

To Town. it sounded like the struggling of two demons
away down in the bowels of the earth.

For fully half an hour the struggling Continued, then all

A became hushed in a death—like silence~ the conflict had ended.

Town. and Rollo held their breath in anxious suspense,
and listened.

But all was silent as the grave below.

“ My God, Town.! I fear our friend is dead !" cried Rollo.

“ If one is dead, both are,” replied Town.

“ Perhaps it would be well for us to look, Town.”

Town. went to the opening and gazed down into the hold.
But he saw nothing. At the further end of the boat, where

    

68 BOLLo,Tnn nor RANGER; on,
the combatants were last heard, it was black as night. He
listened again, but heard nothing. He then called the name
of his friend—repeated the call, but still there was no re-
spouse.

He started up with an expression of deep sadness upon his
face.

“ They have slain each other, Rollo,” he cried.

Rollo uttered an exclamation of sorrow, as he bent upon
the tiller.

“ What will we do with the scout's body ‘3" he finally asked.

“ We must remove it from the hold and give it 8 Chris-
tian burial. The savage’s carcass we will bury in the river.”

“ Hist l—ha-rk l” ‘

It was Rollo who uttered the injunction of silence, in a
tone scarcely above a whisper.

“ What is it?” queried Town.

“ Didn‘t you hear a movement below?”

“ In the hold?"

H 3708.”

“ Ali—then I (lid—one of than is not dmd !”

The young settler took up one of the fallen savages’ toma-
hawks, and advanced softly toward the hatehway, saying to
Rollo in a whisper:

“ It is the savage that lives, else Old Tumult would have
answered me. The red demon is waiting for a chance to
spring out and murder me. I will watch for him here.”

“It may not he," said Rollo.

“Time will soon tell.”

The two heeame silent, and listened and watched.
ful anxiety came upon them.
alive.

An aw-
One of the combatants was
They could h ear him dragging himself through the
water toward the opening.

My readers can better imagine the awful suspense of the
two young men than 10th describe it. A moment seemed
an hour. They Were sure they could hear their own hearts
beating and feel the hot hlood leaping through their veins.
Their eyes, almost starting from their sockets, became fixed
upon the opening.

Suddenly a shadow appeared within it. Something an”
in the young men's U‘t'mlH that waned to choke them.

     

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THE HEIBESS or 'rmz GOLDEN Iron) 59
Slowly, quite slowly, the shadow was followed by a tl"t of
dark hair, the shaven skull, the low, dark brow, the glaring

eyes, the painted, lacerated face of the savage giant I

CHAPTER XI.
THE RESULT on THE mom.

A CHILL of horror crept over the frame of Town. Farnes~
Worth as he saw the bloody face and lacerath shoulders of
the savage appear slowly from the hatehway. IIe shrunk
back from the hideous form as from an apparition.

The face of the savage wore a ghastly expression—tho
eyeballs protruded from their sockets till they rested upon
the cheeks—the jaws stood apart and the tongue protruded
from the mouth, which was filled with blood and foam.

Clutching the tonmhawk in a firtner grasp, 'l‘own. advanced
toward the savage; but, at the same instant, the form of the
giant warrior shot out of the hold and fell limp and motion—
less in death upon the deck.

Then, up through the hatehway, popped the head and
Shoulders of Old Tumult, the picture of dolefulness and woe,
his face convulse‘d and his sides shaking in a roar of triumph-
ant laughter. ‘ '

After all he had proved the victor, and had pushed the
body of his fallen enemy through the hatchway in order to
Work a surprise upon his two friends, who, he learned from
their conversation, had come out victors with the savages
above. But, the old scout bore many a mark of the 0m-
flict. His face and neck were fearfully lacerated, and the
few locks of yellow hair that were permitted to remain on his
bad, clung about his face and neck wet and sadly. Ills
clothes were nearly all torn from his body, and his back Lore
many a red furrow where the sharp nails of the giant had
plowed.

Town. stood speechless with happy disappointment.

Something like a scowl passed over Rollo‘s face.

 

  
      
  

60 BOLLO, THE BU! RANGER; on,

  
       
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     

Old Tumult was the first to speak : ,

“Ay, lads l” he cried, “ had thar’ been a leetle smell 0'
brimstonc down thar’ in that dark hold, I could have con-
vineed myself that I was tusslin’ with the devil away down
in the black pit.”

Town. and Rollo laughed at the scout’s coolness of speech
rendered slightly ludicrous by his doleful appearance.

“ If you could come out victor in a life-struggle with Satan,
as with this savagc, you’d be equal to Christian, the Pilgrim,”
said To“ n.

“ ’Zactly,” returned the old scout, and having picked up
his ritle from the deck, he related his adventures below.
When he had succeeded in slaying his foe, he listened and
learned from their talk that Town. and Rollo‘s fears had been
aroused as to the result of the conflict. A practical joke Was
thereby suggested to his mind, and he proceeded to carry it

‘ into execution by thrusting the body of the savage through
the hatchway.

Washing the blood from his hands and face, and bathing
his many, but not very serious, wounds and bruises, the scout
declared his readiness for further business. Thercupon, Rollo ‘2
headed the boat shoreward again, and in a few minutes the
bank was reached.

Old Tumult and To'wn. went ashore, but Rollo remained
on board. I

“ Why, ain’t you a-goin‘ with us ?" asked Old Tumult. ?‘
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“ I can not. I must return for my horse on the other side
of the river,” replied the ranger. t

“ Oh—‘zactly," responded the scout; “ I’d forgotten thet
you hed a boss." ,

“And I ant very sorry that we are to lose so valuable a
friend," said Town. ; “ I hope we will be able to repay you
some time for to-day‘s invaluable service."
“I want nothing," replied the ranger, “ and if you will ap-
point a place of meeting, I will join you in your efforts ‘0
rescue the maidens when I get my horse and cross the
river." ‘ 4

“ That’s a fair offer,” said Town, “ and we‘ll be glad to
nave your services, which are worth half a dozen men on an .
{ndiau trail." . 

 

 

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3

 

'rrm HEIRESS or run comm ROBE. 61

“ Ya-as, that’s what the red skin thought t’other day when
I spread his nose all over his face with my fist,” returned the
scout, with a humorous chuckle ; “ but how’ll the head 0’ the
Devil‘s Staircase do fur a meetin’-p‘int ?”

“ The place, exactly,” returned the young ranger; “ but as
it is past noon now, it may be far into the night before I get
there.”

“ Wal, we’ll wait thar till ye come,” said the scout.

“ Till then, good-by,” said the young ranger.

They separated. The scout and Town. turned their faces
westward and set off through the forest. Had they, however,
crept back and kept a watch upon the movements of the
young ranger, they would have seen sufficient of his proceed-
ings to have justlfied them in sending a hullet through his
heart. But, “ where ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise.”

\

CHAPTER XII.
'1‘le PIPE or PEACE.

OLD TUMULT‘ felt none the better of his ferry-boat adven-
ture. In fact, he felt quite sore, but the consciousness of
having defeated the enemy, proved a radical mental relief,
and repaid him, in one sense of the word, for the bruises he
had received.

Hunger was the next enemy with which they had to con-
tend, for the want of tire. Game was around them in abund-
ance, but they had no way of cooking it. Continuing on,
however, they were so fortunate as to come across the rem-
nants of a deserted camp-lire. ,This was at once replenished
with fuel, and soon a savory slice of venison was roasting be-
fore it.

After a hearty meal, they continued on toward the Indian
Villilge- They proceeded quite leisurely, for their late adven-
tures had nearly exhausted them; besides there was no need
of 113816. 38 they had plenty of time to reach the Devil’s Stair-
we before night.

 

 

62 ROLLO, run nor RANGER; on,

As they moved along, Town. became silent and thoughtful,
and Old Tumult wary and cautious. The latter finally noted
a curious expression upon his companion‘s face, and asked:

“ \Vhat is it, Town. l”

“\VVhat is what?" queried Town., apparently perplexed.

“That makes yer face twitch so.”

Town. laughed, as the color came to his face. The fact of
it was, he was thinking of the pretty Madge Taft, but to evade
a direct answer, he said:

“ \Vell, I was just thinkingwthinking whether I had better
reveal the suspicion that has arisen in my mind lately.”

“ Certainly; tell it, by all means,” exclaimed Tumult.

Town stepped nearer the scout and said :

“ I~ solemnly believe that Rollo is a traitor—that he knew
of the savages being Concealed in the ferry-boat.”

The old scout at once grew restless; he looked at Town.—
shifted his rifle to the other shoulder, and said: ‘

“ What makes ye think so, Town. ?”

“His actions during the fight on the boat—he never lifted
a hand to help us, but directly I caught him assisting on board
the boat, the savage that you knocked overboard.”

“Didn’t he ’pologize when ye ketched him ?”

“He plead excitement.”

“ Ugh—humph l” ejaculated Old Tumult; “ wal, Town., as
to that lad bein’ a traitor, we think alike; and thar‘s sumthin’
else that I've diskivered ’bout him, and what s’prises me is
that you haven‘t. see’d it yerself.”

“ What is it?” asked Town. ; “ all questions are fair.”

“ You‘d shoot me, Town., if I’d tell you.”

Town. was surprised by this blunt remark.

“ I will give my word as security for your life,” he
said. ' "

“Then I‘ll tell it. Rollo, the Ranger—” he began, but
broke abruptly off in consequence of the angry crack of a
rifle, and the “ whizz " of a bullet in close proximity to his
head. '

“ ’Tarnal furies l” he exclaimed, as his keen eyes swept the
surrounding forest for the enemy that had fired the shot;
“what a bad shot that war. Come, lad, tramp quick—tramp
lively l”.

  

    

 

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

'rnn netnsss on THE GOLDEN norm. 63

The old scout quickened his steps and lengthened his

‘stndes, until Town. was scarcely able to keep pace with

him.

The young settler wondered why he heat so hasty a re-
treat in the face of a single foe as the shot proved. To him
it looked as though the indomitable courage of the old sCout
Was desertng him. However, Old Tumult seemed to have
read his thoughts, and said : .

“ I don’t fight Ingins like every ole hunter generally does,
Town.-——”

“ No, I see you run from them sometimes.”

‘f Thar’s logic in it, too, lad ; now you see if we‘d ’a’ stopped
and went to huntin’ fur the red that fired the shot, he’d ’a’
shot usdown. By runnin’ he’ll think we’re scart, and out
he’ll dive from his nest and take arter us. Then ’s the time
to turn and let him have it; I think the ijee ’s not to be
sneezed at.”

And so thought Town., as the scout whirled suddenly
around, threw his rille to his facc, and tired. Simultaneous
with the crack of the gun, a savage death-cry rung out through
the forest aisles—thus proving how eil‘ectu-ll was the 01d
scout's plan of drawing an enemy from ambush.

The two new continued their course without further
molestation.

Cautiously skirting the .Indian village, they reached the
Devil’s Staircase two miles beyond, where they had agreed to
meet the ranger.

The Devil‘s Staircase was an almost perpendicular declivity,
leading down a narrow defile into a low plain or valley. The
forest around it was of dense growth, and in broad daylight
its shadows lay thick as the gloom of summer twilight.

When this point was reached, it lacked two hours of night,
and as the scout and Town. could do nothing until then, they
concluded to conceal thenn'elves, and await its cover before
making any further move.

A retreat, flanked upon three sides hyjntting rocks, was
selected by the two men, who at once threw themselves in an
attidude of repose. As an enemy could approach them only
in front, it required no extra vigilance to guard their position,
and they made themselves quite at ease.

 

  

   
 

    

ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER; OR,

 
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 

After discussing the incidental topics of their situation and T"
future prospects, Town. said : “ ‘
“Then you believe the Boy Ranger is in league with the $110 ‘
Indians, eh, Tumult ‘8” T
“ Ya-as, with the Arapahocs. They’re mean enufl' to league “
with Satan. I tell ye, lad, arter all there ’s more honor in the t6“
Sioux tribe, than cnny other on this terrestial ball.” '19, l
“ None of them are to be trusted tar,” said Town. j
“ That depends upon circumstanees. The Sioux won’t con- V35
sort with every white cut-throat that seeks their protection from 111’
the laws of the States.” at
“ I will frankly admit that there is more honor and man-
hood in a Sioux Indian than a white renegade like Dick Sher— a
wood. But I can not imagine why one so young, handsome I
and intellectual as Rollo is, should be a traitor to’his own it
people—and such a secret traitor, too.” . ‘ I

 

“ Ay, lad," cried the scout, “ thar’s many a deep, dark mys-
tery that the world ’11 never know enny thing ’lmut.”

“ Then, hereafter we can keep an eye upon Itollo’s move-
ments, and see if our suspicions of him are correct."

“ That‘s true, boy ; but unless he comes afore night it’ll be
too late, or I’m no judge.”

“ What'do you mean, Tumult ?"

“ This: if the ranger comes here artcr dark, it will be with
a troop o’ Arapahoes at his heels, to Lapture us.”

“ I can not Understand your reason for thinking so.”

“ I’ll tell ye, lad, thar's some devilish plot coming to a crisis,
and Dick Sherwood anti Rollo are at the bottom of it all.”

“ Well, where’s your proof?"

“ That fust attempt to kidnap Miss Bryant; the mectin’ af-
fair at Wildwood lake; the kapter of the two gals; the affair ‘
at Two Islands, and the ferry-boat surprise, are all the proof
that I want,” said Old Tumult; “ and, furthermore, our car-
casses is mixed up in it some way ’r other; and now mind,
unless we look sharp, that ’ere boy '11 play the deuce with us
to-night.” r

“ You really surprise me, Tumult"

“ And I could surprise ye more if I’d tell 0’ the diskivcry
that I've made.”

“ Why not tell it. i"

 
  

 

‘ation and
with the

01‘ in the

'l’t con.
11 from

man.
Sher.

lsome
own

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be

 

 

THE IIEutuss or Tm: GOLDEN HORN. G5

The scout was silent. Town. repeated the question.

“ You’d feel more like shootin’ me than thankin’ me fur
the. infurmation,” returned Old Tumult.

Towa. laughed, though his mind was perplexed.

“ Howsumever,” continued the old scout, “I might as well
tell it, fur you’re bound to know it sooner or later. The fact
is, this mornin’ I diskivered that Rollo, the ranger, and—”

Here he broke abruptly off, for a shadow fell across his
vision. Ile seized his rifle and sprung to his feet, and found
himself confronted by a tall, powerful Sioux Indian, whom he
at once recognized as Mahaska, chief of the Sioux tribe!

Tumult at once placed himself in an atitude of defense, but
a sign from the chief put at rest all fears of air encounter.
He showed that his presence there was fraught with peace
and friendship, although Old Tumult had always known him
as an enemy.

Our friends recognized the chief's token of friendship by
dropping their rifles and folding their arms over their breasts.

“Good 1” ejaculated the chief; “ the great Tumult and his
friend know that Mahaska comes with friendship in his
breast.”

“ You bet, chief,” returned the scout, extending his large,
bony hand; “it’s hard to mistake that jolly twinkle in yer
eye—it means, no SkulpS wanted.”

“ The great Tumult is wise. IIis tongue is straight. His
firm is strong. His eyes are keen. His aim is deadly, but
Mahaska knows he will not strike a friend.”

“ You’re right there, great chief,” returned the scout, deter-
mined to pay an equal amount of compliments; “I know yer
a brave chief, a splendid fuller, a brillunt scholar, a good jedge
of whisky, and a brick o‘ a boy in general.”

The chief reared himself proudly. Although he did not
fully understand the English of the scouts complimentary
remarks, he took it all as something very fine.

“ The great Tumult and Mallnslta," the chief began, “are
friends now. Mahaska was concealed in the brush there,
when the white men come here to talk. He heard them
speak well of the Sioux, and bad of the Arapaho and his
White ally. The words of the great scout were words of
wisdom and truth, and they have sunk deep into the breast

    

 

66 ROLLO, 'rm: nor RANGER on,

t The W

of Mal aska. He will never forget them, and here offers! inpon hit
to smoke the pipe of peace with the great Tumult and his been ‘A C

flit-n l." with u“
“ 'l‘hat’s business, chief." replied Tumult, with a sly wink Aftc‘
at Town; “ bringr on your pipe o’ peace, and a ‘bottle 0’ u-caty.
t'riendship,’ if ye‘ve not it. I promise that my people will ‘- “M
never harm the Sioux, if the Sioux will keep on his side B'on’“
o’ the creek, and forever bury the hatchet o’ discord and range
enmity.” truth
“ Mahaska pledges the friendship of his people.” of “t
“Then my people will not harm the Sioux. They seek ~ “7
the good will 0’ all. But they are brave and will give blow t “
for blow. When the Sioux attacks, the white will defend.” ‘ latte
As the scout C(Hlt'illtil‘ti, Mahaska gave utterance to a low, wit
peculiar ehirrup, when there was heard a dull fluttering like to ‘
many wings, and the next instant fully three score Indian d0
warriors burst from the forest shadows ahd gathered around ‘ in
our friends and their chief. '
A (hill of distrust passed OVer our friends at sight of the T
painted and plumed warriors, but they allowed no look to \‘
b, tray their inward emotion to the red-skins.
Mahaska made a brief speech to his warriors and informed 1

them that they were about to smoke the pipe of peace with
he whites.

This bit of news was received with a. savage yell that

jam d very discordantly upon the tympanum of our friende

Old Tumult nudged Town. and grinned “broadly.”

A circle was now formed. Mahaska drew from a greasy
tobacco-pouch a large, dirty calumet which he loaded and lit.
He then took a few whill‘s, and handed it to Old Tumult,
who, in a turn, “drew” very lightly on the obnoxious “seal
of peace.”

In a few minutes the pipe had “swung around the circle,”
and was lodged in its greasy receptacle, and peace between
the whites and Sioux was declared.

However, ()ld 'l‘tunult knew the Indian‘s nature too well '
to put implicit confidence in him, and he would not have

 

been surprised had they broken their promise of peace ere 0
the obnoxious taste of the \“ pipe of p “ace,” was out of 11%
mouth.

 

Offers
“(1 his

Wink
lie 9’
‘ \r 1'11

Side

and

 

THE HEIILESB OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 67

The warriors now gathered around Old Tumult and gazed

.upon him with no little curiosity, for in days past, he had

been a constant. terror to them, and had ornamented his girdle
with the scalps of many of their friends.

After having discussed varrious topics incidental to the
treaty, Mahaska asked:

“ Mahaska "—hc always spoke of himself in the third per
son—“ heard the great Tumult say that the young white
ranger was in league with the Arapaho. He spoke the
truth. The ranger is the friend of the Arapaho—the enemy
of the Sioux and the pale-face.” .

“ How does Mahaska know ?” questioned the scout.

“His scouts have been in the heart 05- the Arapaho vil-
lage. They saw the ranger there, and heard him talking
with the white prophet. \Vhen the Boy Ranger comes here
to meet the great Tumult and his friend, when the sun goes
down, let them beware, for he will bring many warriors with
him whose hearts burn for their blood.”

'[ His own ideas of RolLo’s treachery at once convinced
Tumult that there was more truth than fiction in the chief‘s
Warning.

“ We’ll he on the watch for the young rascal,” said the
scout, “ when he comes to-night."

“ Can the great scout be on the watch for the many war-
riors that will follow him like shadows ?”

“ Not if more’n six comes at a time,” replied Tumult.

“ Then Mahaska and his warriors will hide in the forest,
and if the Arapahoes come with the ranger, the Sioux will
slay them, for many. of my young warriors have promised
to go back to their village with Arapaho scalps.”

The old scout saw at once what the chief was driving at, and
he could do no better than to accept his protfered aid, or pro-
reetion against the treachery of Rollo.

The Sioux seemed highly elated by his acceptance of their
proifered friendship, and as night drew on, they began to
secrete themselves in the woods surrounding the point of
rendezvous.

Old Tumult and Towu., for the first time, had the Oppore
tnnity of seeing a party of savages ambushing themselves for
93 unsuspecting enemy.

L

\

 

at! ROLLO, THE BUY RANGER; on,

Half crouching, they glided here and there like so many
shadows, their eyes flashing with an evil, cunning light.
They burrow-d themselws beneath the old leaves and grass
.ike moles; they pressed themselves into holes and crevices
where it seemed a serpent. could not hide. In five minutes’
time, Old Tumult and Town. stood alone in the solitude
of the great forest. It seemed almost impossible that
they stood within a circle of three score blood-thirsty sav-
ages.

Night came on apace. There was a moon, but it would
not be up till two hours after dark.

Our friends seated themselves in the path leading to the
head of the Devil‘s Staircase. They started when the sound
of horse’s hoots told them that some one was approaching
from the east.

It was the ranger beyond a doubt. . -

Suddenly the, tramp of the hoofs ceased, and a voice called
out: .
“ Hallo, Tumult l"

“ Ay, Rollo ; so you’ve come,” responded the old scout.

They arose from their seat and approached the ranger, of-

whom they could catch a faint outline in the darkness.

The clear, frank voice of the ranger at once produced in
the minds of the friends conflicting ideas. It seemed utterly
impossible for One so young, and apparently kind-hearted, to
be a traitor to his own race. He had done many kind acts
for the settlers in warning them of coming danger of late.
Yet, despite all this, Tumult and Town. had seen sufficient of
his actions in the ferry-boat affair to raise grave doubts, at
least; however, they tried to believe that it all came of the
impulse and indiscretion of youth.

“ Any news from the captives, Rollo ?” asked Town, as he
neared the ranger.

“ Nothing," the ranger responded; “of course they are in
the Indian village, and the question is, how are we to get at
them." i

“The only course I see is to tight our way in and release
them, then fight our way out again, if we kin git ’em no other
way," said Old Tumult.

“ Ten to one we would all he killed,” said Town.

W‘

     

«W

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'rIIE mnmcss OF THE GOLDEN norm. 69

“Well, we can try it,” said ltollo; “ faint heart ne‘er won
fair lady, Town."

Town. was a little touched by this remark, which was
slightly tainted with sarcasm; however, he ioreed hack the
Ietort that came to his lips, and made no reply.

There was it momentary silence, during which the ran-
gu toyed with the coiltd horn at the ponuuel of his sad-
the.

Suddenly they Were :tI‘OtlSL'tl by the sharp bark of a wolf
that echoed throuin the valley below them.

“' 110w human-like is that cry," said llollo, “ and how it
echoes through the valley."

“Yes, I'm think-insr there is more human than wolf about
the cry,” said Town.

At this juncture, the jingle of the ranger‘s horn drew our
friends' attention toward llltil. There was just. light enough
to see llllll place the instrument to his lips.

“ Don’t you,” eried ()ld Tumult, but the sound of his voice
was drowned in the blast of the horn.

“110, you young, traitorous villain l" roared the old scout,
and he leaped toward the ranger, but the hitter whirled his
horse's head and dashed away.

Then there was hurryinbr of many feet, the flitting of many
dark forms—followed by the blond-Chillng war-whoop of
two score and ten Arapaho warriors, as they closed in upon
our friends.

Where was Mahaslm and his warriors, now '2 Ah 1 where in-
deed ‘(

CHAPTER XIII.
'rnr: TRAGEDY AT THE LAKE.

THE dark line of Arapaho warriors stopped ere they had
got within reach of our two friends, for scareer had their
own war-cry pealed from their own lips, when there arose
another yell that seemed to issue from the earth, the sky and

76 3

 

 

70 none, THE BOY RANGER; on,
the air, so loud and fierce that the earth seemed to tremble
beneath them.

Mahaska had been true to his word, and, with his warriors,
had come to the rescue; and, afte ' all, the Arapahoes were the
surprised party, and like sheep they scattered and fled in every
direction. llalf of their number, however, fell under the
blows of the Sioux.

Tumult and Town. escaped without a. scratch.

'l'he t'ollowin;r morning search was made among the dead

for the hotly of Rollo, hut it was not there.

In consequence of the defeat of the Arapahocs, Old Tumult
and .‘tlahaska heeame fast friends, and took another “pipe of
peace," oVer the victory.

The chief now sent scouts in all directions to keep a watch
upon the movements of the enemy, while Old Tumult and
Town., accompanied by Mahaska, set 011‘ toward the Arapaho
village to reconnoiter the situation.

Arrivingr in the vicinity of the village, they gained an emi-
nence from whence they could Command :1 view of the en-
campment. They saw that great commotion pre 'ailed within
the village, and that the leadng warriors were constantly go-
ing to and from the lodge of the prophet.

Mahaska smiled grinin as he watched these movements,
for well he read their import.

Asquad of some fifteen warriors leavingr the village and
movingr in the. direction of our friends, induced the latter to
seek more secluded quarters.

ln case that the rescue of the maidens could not, he ef-
fectt d during the day, )lahaska had decided to make a night
attack the for that (lit;-
patched a ntessengt r to his villaq: fer a reinforcement of war-
l'lttl'r.

Ahottt two miles south of the Arapaho village was a small
lake. which the chief had selected as the point of rtntlezvous
for his warriors soon after nightfall; and as they saw there
not the shadow of a chance to rescue, the maidens
duringr the day, the chief, Old Tumult and Town. set 011" for
the lake.

Arrived at the lake, the trio proceeded to procure some
food, of which they were feeling greatly in need. Some veni-

ttpttn VillageY and purpose had

\\’tt.\'

  

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every 
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THE HEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 71"
arm was soon obtained and roasted, and a hearty meal made
thereon. Then the party retired to a secluded spot near the
edge of the lake to await the coinin'j of night.

The day [lilSM‘tl slowly away. To 'lown. .
though night “onld ttt‘t'et' t-otne, and the 1mm. he thought
of the traders lovely daughter the more impatient he he-

it Nt'H‘t'tl as

Came.

At last the shades of evenng began to gather our the, si-
lent forest.

The tree-frogs began their doletul piping; and the t‘l'it‘ltclfi
their mournful chirps; and as the shadows continued to
thicken, the deep and solemn hr eathing of nature, peculiar
to the wilderness after nightfall, was heard in all around.

One by one the stars looked out through the blue vault of
heaven as the darkness increased.

The trio still remained within their covert, silent as the
grave itself.

Suddenly their ears 'aught the sound of wins, and the.
t‘atnp of feet coming,r up the stony path that Wound along the
shore of the little lakelet.

Old Tumult and his companions bent their heads and lis-
tened closuly.

They heard the voices again. They were the voices of
white persons, judging from the sound, a man and woman’s.

\Vitlt eyes and ears strained to their utmost, the trio watched

_and listened.

The footsteps canto nearer and nearer, but the voices
etascd.

A hare rock, over which ran the trail that the man and
Woman were following, and which jutted out, over the waters
of the lake, lay betWtcn our friends and the two unknown
pedestrians.

Presently the latter emerged from the shadows of the woods
into the opening on the rock. Here they haltetl. Our friends
saw that it was a man and \\'Ulll:t‘.l, sure (‘ltullglh But who
Were they ?

Neither spoke, and it we; too dark to distinguish their
features.

For several moments they stood upon the rock.

At last the woman asked:

 

 

 

7‘3 ROLLO, rrm; BOY RANGER; on,

“ Why do you stop here ?"

Town. started. He recognized the voice, and its soft niusi.
cal tone seemed to echo through the chambers of his wildly-
throhhjng heart.

The man made no reply to her question, but turning, he
Stized her, dragged her to the edge of the rock. and“ hurled
her over the precipice into the lake, twenty feet below.

There was a wild, despairing shriek—a loud plash in the
water, then all was over.

“ Save her, for God‘s sake, Mahaska l” whispered Town. to
the chief, who, like a shadow, glided from the young man‘s
side as he spoke.

Old Tumult cocked his rifle, and leveled it at the breast of
the unknown murderer, but he did not tire. The figure of
another woman was seen to glide from the shadow of the
Woods, and throw heise f into the open arms of the man.

“Thank God it is over with !" said the man.

“And we are rich—the Golden Horn is ours l” replied the
woman.

Scarcely had the last word fallen from her
rifles on the opposite side of the opening rung out—a cry of
mortal agony pealed from the lips of the man and woman—-
they staggered, reeled, and sunk heavily to the earth.

Two b‘ioux Indians rushed from cover of the woods, and
steeping, were in the act of sealping the fallen man and
woman, when Old Tumult and Town. rushed from their covert
and prevented the bloody act.

lips, when two

CHAPTER XIV.
A VILLAIN DICI‘W‘TA'lED.

DEFEATED in his rep ‘ated attempts to capture or kill Old
Tllllllllh and Town, upon Two Islands, Dick Sherwood re-
turned to the Indian Village, his feelings wrought up to the
highest pitch of rage. And fuel was added to the consuming
fire of‘his wrath, when the news of the slaughter of his war-
riors at the nevus Staircase reached his ears.

  

 

 

 

 

  

 
  

 

 

 

    

THE HEIRESB 0‘!“ THE GOLDEN HORN.

73

The fates seemed against him.
and deep-laid plots of vengeance had failed, excepting the
surprise at \Vildwood lake.

The handsome devil eared nothing for the lives of the
savages, only as far as his Selfish wickedness was concerned.
And to have accomplished the purpose of his will, he would

Every one of his daring

have sacrificed every warrior in the tribe. llowever, when
one plot failed, his wicked, fertile brain soon conceived
another.

On the morning of the day that Clara Bryant had promised
to marry him for her liberty, he came rushing into her lodge
inquiring for Madge Taft. But, Madge was not there, and in
atone of ungovernable rage he declared she had escaped;
and should he recapture her, he would inflict all sorts of
punishment upon her.

Although Clara was glad that Madge had escaped, it. made
her feel more lonely and desolate, when she thought that she
was entirely alone, so far as friends Were concerned, in the
midst of enemies.

\ She thought it very strange, too, that Madge would, or did
leave, without hinting her intentions to her.

As the day were away, Clara felt in hopes that Sherwood
had given up his desire to marry her out of revenge, and that
she would be set at liberty. However, in this she was bitterly
disappointed. It wanted about an hour of sunset, when the
renegade entered her lodge accompanied by a white man,
whom he introduced as Father Jules, the missionary.

“ l have come, Miss Bryant,” the villain said, “to claim a
fulfillment of your promise to wed me."

A low sob escaped poor Clara’s lips, and she turned ghastly
pale.

“ Are you not sick, my dear child ‘2" asked Father Jules.

“No, sir," faintly articulated the maiden, whose senses
seemed deserting her, and whose heart grew Sl('l( and faint.

“ And you are willing to become the wife of Richard Sher-
wood, are you ‘2" questioned the. missionary.

Clara answered in the allirmative, though she was almost
totally unconscious of what was passing about her, and
but for the support of the renegade she would have fallen.

In this state of semi-consciousness the maiden steed by the

 

  

     
  
   
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
      
   
   

7L ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER; on,

side of Sherwood, and the marriage Ceremony was per-  
formed. ‘ mill

When the missionary pronounced them man and wife, l 0‘“
Clara had wholly fainted. Restm‘atives, howcwer, were im-  lm'l

mediately applied, and she Was brought hat-k to Consciousness.
. “i

As soon as the ceremony was performed, Father .lules seat- 11“

ed himself, and taking from his pocket a strip of paper, wrote \

thereon the following: 0"
“September 20th, ‘18— 0f

“ I, Victor Jules, a regularly ordained minister of the church
of the Holy Evangelist, hereby certify that on this day, I V w
joined in the holy bonds of wedlock, Richard Sherwood and
Clara Holmes. VICTOR Jones.”

This certificate the missionary gave to Sherwood, who read 0
1t, smiled, folded it up and put it carefully away in an inner 1’
pocket.

Victor Jules soon took his departure from the lodge, and ‘
when they were alone Sherwood turned to Clara, and said : .. l

“ My dear little wife, you have been honest. in fulfilling 2
your agreement, Low I shall fultill min - and set you at lib- ‘
erty.”

Clara’s eyes brightened, and her h aart b ‘at more hopeful
to think that she was going to be released. She felt certain
that when she was beyond Sherwood‘s power, he would have
no claim upon her as a husband; for, in her inmost heart she
knew the Ceremony was all a farce, and she had" very grave
doubts as to Victor Jules heing a missionary. But, why it

'as that. Sherwood had taken this course for revenge upon
ToWH. It‘arnesworth, was a mystery to her. He surely had
sense enough to know that, the marriage was not binding upon
them. But, alas! (‘lara did not—could not read the secret
intentions of the villain’s heart.

“And am I to return to the post alone ?” she asked.

“No; I will escort you as far as 'l‘alhott 'l‘at't‘s cabin,” he
returned; “that is as close to the post as will be safe for my
neck.”

“ And when are we to start ?" Clara asked.

“ At once."

The news was joyful to the maiden. She could searcdy
refrain from clapping her hands and shouting with joy and
thanks.

 

    

per- 

rife,

i m-
(N4,
(‘at- ‘

'U'tC

'eh

V
nd

 

    

 

 

 

'rrm nnmsss on THE comes norm. 75
By this time it was nearly sunset, and ere the renegade and
maiden had taken their departure from the village, the shad-
ows of evening had begun to gather over the woodland, and
lurk assassin like in the “my”,

They set (ill on loot, following a plain—beaten path through
the forest, smuhward.

The journey before her was a long one, but Clara was so
overpowered with joy, that she had reVer taken one thought
of her inability to ever reach the post on foot.

The, two moved on in silence for about a mile or more,
when Slierwood spoke.

“ Clara,” he said, “ have you any recollections of your early
Childhood ?——-that is, do you reColleet any thing of your early
home in Ohio ‘3"

The maiden was not a little surprised by this strange ques-
tion, and it was quite a while before she could gain compo-
sure to reply;

“ Why sheuld I not, when it has been but a few years since
I left there I?" ,

“Then you know that you are not the child of Geofl‘ry
Bryant," the renegade said.

Clara started at the question. Never had it been breathed
to her before that she was not the child of those whom she
had loved as father and mother since her childhood reeollec-
tions. And why should the renegade know more of her than
she did herself?"

“ I know no sueh a thing," she replied, a little indignantly.

“ “'ell, I know that you are nut the child of Geoll'ry Bry-
arit,“ Sherwood replied.

“ Ilmr do you know it?" she asked.

The villain made no reply, for at this juncture they emerged
into a small opening at the edge of a little lake, where the
renegade stopped.

“ Why do you stop here ?" Clara asked.

Still the \illam made no reply, but, turning, he seized the
maiden, dragged her to the edge of the opening, and hurled
her over the elitl' into the lake below.

What followed this murderous deed the reader already
knows.

  
 

   
     
   
 
    
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
   
 
    
   
     
   

ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER; OR,

‘ {08
CHAPTER XV.  
A STARTLING DISCOVERY. fl

“ \VIIA’T‘ in the name of the. holy tortures does tl is all
mean ‘3" yelled Old Tumult, as he knelt by the prostrate form I
of the man, while Town. Farnesworth knelt by the woman.

The scent bent low and gazed into the face of the man.

A shout, that rolled through the forest aisles like a peal of
thunder, burst from his lips. He recognized the face of the
man.

It was that of Dick Sherwood ! ,

The old scout communicated his discovery to Town., and l
then asked ,

“ \Vho’vc you got thar, Town. ?”

A groan burst from the young man‘s lips and he started up.

“ What‘s up, what‘s up '3” questioned the scout. .

“ Oh, God! my eyes deceive me, Tumult l” he cried, “ or
else that is the face of Madge Taft.”

“ Iloly smoke o‘ torture 1” burst from Tumult‘s lips, as he
knelt by the motionless form of the Woman, and gazed into
her face. “ Yes, yes; it is the trader's gal, but she is not
dead."

A mean of pain from the woman’s lips verified his asser-
tion. .
“ Water, Tumult, water l" cried Towa; “ let us save her, if
we can."

“ It is no use, Town. ; nothing can save me."

It was the woman who spoke, in a feeble, smothered tone,
as she nervously elutehed at her throbbing,r brow.

“ My (lod, Madge ! is this reality, or some horrible vision ?”
Cried 'l‘own., droppingr on his knees beside her, and raising,r her
head from the bard stone, and pillowiner it, upon his breast.

“ Yes, Town.~—rbut save her—save Clara! It was she that
he threw over the chill—save her, for she loves you i"

“ The chief will save her; rest easy—”
,“ The chief!" she interrupted, with almost a shriek.

 

llS a”
form
11H.

n. l

:11 of

the

v

THE msnmss or run GOLDEN norm 7?

“ Yes; Mahaaka, the Sioux chief,” replied Town

"Ah!" she sighed, painfully, “that accounts for our de-
feat.”

“ Your defeat '3 what do you mean dear Madge ?”

“ 0h, Town., I have been such a wicked woman—I have
plotted deeply and darkly against you and Clara. I won your
affections from her, and yet I was a married woman—the law-
ful wife of—”

The name was lost in a moan of pain, and Town. felt a re-
pulsive tlush mount to his face.

He would have shrunk away from her as from an adder,
had he not remembered that she was dying—dying so young,
so beautiful, so wicked, so false-hearted.

There was a momentary silence which was broken by the
dying woman’s Voice:

“ Town.,” she said, “ although I have been your worst en-
emy, I want to ask one I‘CtlllCSt.Of you.”

“Name it,” said Town, “and it shall be granted.”

“ Then after I am dead, I want you to convey my body
and the body of Dick b‘herwood to the cabin of Talbott
Taft.”

“‘ It shall be done, I promise you,” said Town. ; “ but, what
is Dick Sherwood to you, Madge ?“ '

“ Town., I am dying fast. I have but few minutes to live.
I would tell you all about my life and the deep, dark game
of sin and treachery in which I have been engaged, could I
live long enough. But when you convey my lifeless body
and that of Dick Sherwood to the cabin of the Indian trader,
he will tell you—tell you all. Oh, if I only knew that Clara
escaped."

At this juncture the quick, heavy tread of moccasined feet
Was heard approaching, and the next moment Mahaska drew
n *:u' with the dripping form of Clara Bryant in his arms.

“ ls‘ she dead, chief 2’” asked Old Tumult.

“ No,” responded the chief, “ but ."he is unconscious.”

“ Thank God I" cried Town. ; then bending low to the dying
{roman}, Le said:

“ She lives, Madge."

The woman made no reply, but there was a rattling in her
throat—a Convulsive stitl‘ening of the limbs and body. Then

 

78 110L110, 'rnn nor RANGER; 0R,
there was a relaxing of the muscles, that told of the separa-
tion of the soul and body—that Madge. Taft was dead.

'l'own. laid the lifeless bodv g1*111l_\'1low11,a111l then went
and assisted Old Tumult and Mahasha in restoring," Clara to
life.

The fall and the efl‘eets of the water together had proven a
terrible shock to the 11;:1i1len, and for awhile her life was de-
spaired of.

ly this time all of Mahaska’s warriors had gathered at the
lake ready for work, but in consequence of the escape of the
captives, the attaek was postponed.

As Clara would be unable. to travel before morning, dispo-
sitions were made for passing' the night by the lake, Mahasha
and his warriors taking the safety of the party into their own
hands.

The night passed miserably enouzh to the whites, and it

'as :1 great relief to their minds when morning dawned bright
and pleasant.

Breakfasling on roasted venison, the party was soon ready
for departure.

Mahaska and some of his warriors were to aeeompany the
whites to Clontarf‘s Post, and to them were given the two
bodies for conveyance to the trader’s cabin.

Town. gave his attention to (‘la'a 111111111, who, after all,
he discoveted he loved, though he was almost ashamed to ad-
mit. it, even to himself, since he had aeted so unfaithful to-
ward her in his fancied love for the faseinating and wicked
Madge Taft.

\Vhen all were ready for starting, Town. drew the maiden’s
arm within his own and set 1111' in advance. lle did not tell
her of the fate of Sherwood and Madge, as she had been
kept beyond sight of the bodies while at the lake; but, while
moving along through the woods, she happened to glance bark
and saw the savages in the rear of the procession bearing
somethingr upon litters. This aroused her curiosity and 5110
inquired 01‘ Town. what it meant.

Town. gently broke 1.) her the'news of the death of Sher~
Wood and Madge.

“ Thank God, 1 am free then i”
The words burst involuntarily 1113111 Clara’s lips, and they

1111, at last, she began to recover.

     

 

 

 

    

   

Epam .

Went
ra to

'en‘ a
s de-

the
the

po.
Hm
7m

it
it

 
 

 

 

 

  

 

TUE HEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN.

 

Were no sooner spoken than she seemed to have regretted their
utterance.

“ Why, yes, Clara,” laughed Town, “ you are free.
you think I was Sherwood ‘3"

Clara smiled as she raised her eyes and g IZt‘tl into Town.’s
face.

“ No, Town,” she replied, “I had reference to some-
thing else. I will tell you what it is another time.”

Town. was _a little mystified. still he Was too thoughtful of
her wishes to insist on an explanation, and so he said noth-
ing more on the subject.

It was past noon when the cabin of Talbott Taft was reached.
They found the old trader at home in a state of great ex-
citement, occasioned, he said, by the absent-e of his daughter.

Town. told him that he had bad news for him, and pro-
ceeded to break it to him as gently as possible.

A wail burst from the old man‘s lips, and staggering he
sunk h 'avily into a ehair.

In a few moments the savages bearing the litters tiled into
the cabin and plaeed the bodies before the old man, who fell
upon his knees and wept bitterly over the body of Madge.

()ur friends and the savages went out into the yard and
left the mourne' alone with his dead, and when his lamenta-
tions had ceased, ()ld Tumult Went back to the door and
asked :

“ Is thnr enny thing, Mr. Taft, that we kin do fur you ‘3"

A wail of sorrow burst anew from the trader's lips and it

'as several moments before he gained ealmness to reply.

“ Nothing. Tumult, nothing, unless you help me to bury my
dead."

That we‘ll do,” returned the scout; “ you have only to
Command us."

“ A grave will have to be dug, and—”

Here his voice broke down, and he Sobbed bitterly.

Old Tumult went out, and with the assistance of Town.
and Mahaska, hollowed out tWo graves in the shadow of an
oak that stood in front of the cabin.

The bodies u ere then wrapped in blankets and Carried out
and laid in the graVes, and covered from the View of the
World forever.

Did

   
 

  

    

80 nomo, 'rtm BOY mxosn; OR,

The old trader wept and moaned as though his heart
Would hr zak, and when our friends had announced their in-
tention of departing for the post, he called Old Tumult and
"Iowa. aside and said:

“ 'l‘umult, I want you and Town. to come here to-morrow
morning. \Vill you promise me that you will ‘3"

“ \Ve will,” responded the two, in :1 hr ‘ath.

“Do not fail.. I have something to rev 'al to you—some-
thing that may he of interest. to you both. I wish to show
you the reward of the wicked and the wages of sin."

“ \Ve will come without fail,” said Did 'l‘umult.

“And so the whites and the Sioux took their departure
from the 'ahiu, and 'l‘alhott Taft vas left alone to weep and
mourn.

CHAPTER XVI.

A SURPRISE.

“Tim Indians are coming!
arms ! to arms I”

This was the startling cry that ran from lip to lip through-
out (Jlontarf‘s Post, as the hardy yeomanry of the settlement
flew to their -ahins for their arms, and hurried their wives
and little ones away to the block-house. Tho-e livingjust;
outside of the stoekade were soon within the iuelosure, whose
(rates were then securely harred and bolted against the party
of Italians that had been discovered crossing the river a. short
distance ahoVe the post.

Old Captain Storms, the military head and center of the
Dost, was the first to (list-over the enemy, and he gave it, as
his Iirm helief that a ltot time might be expected, for he said
the enemy numtured two hundred strong—that they were a
war-party hcnt anon death and distruetion.

In a. few minutes the settlers were prepared for defense,
although they were not, by any means, prepared for a lengthy
Beige. .

Father Earnshaw and Captain Storms now ascended to the

the Indians are coming! to

.

  

 

 

 

9n

heart
ar in-
t and

new

line-
10W

lll‘e
nd

 

«to

THE Imnmss OF THE GOLDEN HORN. ‘ 81
top of the block-house to watch the movements of the enemy,
while the settiers stood, ritle in hand, ready for the conflict.

The two sl-ntinels on the block-house were not a little
Surprised to see the enemy marching boldly down the river
toward the stoelnule.

“ Ah! here they come, boys, three hundred strongr !” the old
captain shouted to the men below; “ stand by your arms7 for
a bloody time is Coming l"

Father Earns-haw looked at, the enemy until his eyes grew
misty—he then took otl' his spectacles, wiped them—~put them
on again—glanced at the enemy, then turned to the old man-
of-var at his side, and said:

“ Surely, captain, your eyesight is failing you, for according
to my estimate of the enemy's force. you have exaggerated
their number in the ratio of about ten to one.”

“ Your eyes deceive you, Mr. lilarnshaw,” returned the stern
old warrior; “ long,r experience in just such matters has
enabled me to tell the number of the enemy, or a body of men,
at sight.”

‘ “ Excitement sometimes, captain, multiplies the amount of
danger in the mind's eye, as I think it has in your case; for,
come down to the fact of the matter, I don‘t believe that it is
a war-party at. all.”

“ Man l man i” exclaimed Storms, “do not let the thoughts
of a battle—of danger, destroy thy throne of reason. letter
go down into the bloclehouse.”

Father liarnshaw could not help laughing at the old cap-
tain‘s wild excitement,

“Look there, eaptain !” he finally exclaimed ; “ as I live Old
Tumult and Town. l“:tl‘ll('\'\\'(l'.'tll and (llara Bryant at" at the
head of your war-party of three hundred."

The Captain loolged long and closely at the approaching
party, rubbed his eyes, ehafed his bald (Town—glanced at;
Earnshaw, then at the party again, moved uneasily, and
at last, burst into a roar of laughter, which, of itself, was suiti-
Cient to show his perplexity and embarrassment.

“ I thought, Mr. Earnsbaw—“

But Mr. Carnshaw was gone. He had slipped away from
the captain, who was a little hard of hearng as Well as de-
fective in seeing, and descending from the block-house, be ap-

 

    

O
ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER; on,

proaehed the men and told them of the captain’s scare, and
the real nature of the, approaching party of savages.

The gate of the stot'ltavle was at onee thrown open, and Old
Tumult, 'i‘own. aml ('lara, and the Indian eseort of ahout a
seore in number, admitted amid ringing shouts of joy and
Wt‘lt'titm'.

'l‘own. eomlneted (‘lara to the cabin of her father, while
()ltl 'l‘innnlt explained to the settlers why )Iahaska and his
warriors were there.

The joy of .\lr. and Mrs Bryant was exeeedinglygreat,
when their only ehild was once more restored to their h "arts.
And the Settlers all partook of their joy.

After the exeitement of the happy meeting was over, and
Clara and her mother found themselves alone, the former
drew near the latter aml said:

“Mother, am I your child '3"

Mrs. llryant started.

“ Why, (ilara, you surpriw me l” she exclaimed.

“I see I do, mother,” replied Clara, “ hut Dick Sherwood
told me that, l was out your child.”

Mrs. llryant turned very pale, and Clam saw at once that
she was greatly agitated.

“ Is it true, mother ‘3” she asked, her arms stealing softly
around the matron's neek.

“ It is, it is, Clara! alas, it is too true; buthow could that
villain, Dick Sherw'ootl, ever have gained the truth? What
did he say about it, (‘lar:t‘.’"

(Klara told her all that, Sherwood had said, and even of her
marriage with him, and the reason why she had married him,
and of the snlizeqnent death of Sherwood and Madge Taft.

Mrs. llryant, was eompletely ovewhelmed by this revelation
of matters, and after trying to unburden her perplexed mind,
she said:

“ No, (71am, you are not my ehild.
when you were but two years old.”

“ A re either of my parents livingr ?" Clara asked.

“ Your father may he, hut your mother is dead, and it is
by her dyingr request that I have never told you before of
your being an orphan.” , v,

“ And have 1 no relations living 'r’

I took you to raise

 
   

y

 

y and 1

01d 
lit a I
and ‘;
’tile
his

 

THE HEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 

“Your mother said she had a brother living, hut she had
not heard of him for ten years, up to the hour of her death.”
“ And you said my father met/’1! lie, living, «lixl you not 1’"

“ Yrs; >inee the worst, is known, I may ns‘ \xell t' ll :ill.
D()lllt‘.~ll(2 tronlile M-pumtul your parents. Your
listed .‘t\‘ 7L S‘llfllt‘l‘ in the )lrximn \mr, :md :ss lH' ltt'Vt‘l' <‘:tlttt‘

ltt‘liz‘t' t'tt-

bark, it \\:t.\' slippowtl tllrtt ll" l‘ell ut the hemle ot' ('izunpt lte-
pee, Your mother died shortly after the separation. Your
father I never saw."

“ And so none of the settlers here know but what I am
your ehild "r"

“ No. We came from the Stute of Maine here, while 111031:
of the other settlers are from Ohio, thut is, we went from
Maine to Ohio, and from there came here.”

Clara. bowed her head and wept sadly, bitterly.

CIIAPTE R XVII.
A REVELATION.

TRUE to their promise, Old Tumult and Town. returned to
the cabin of 'I‘ulhott Taft the follo\\'iti;_5 morning.

AS they approuehed the lonely hut, they >:t\\' no Sign of
life about it, but pushing on they I‘L‘:L'lt(,‘tl the door, upon
whieh 'l‘own. gently rapp d. But, no one hnde thein enter,
and it was then 11th :1 strange suspicion rushed new»; our
hm fripmlJ minds, and pushingr the door open they entered.

Two (-nonfih, their suspieions were verified by seeing
Tulhott 'l‘ult sitting; bolt-upright in a ehuir near a rude table,
stone lieu/I .’

u Sp]f_,i(.\.,-u(.1j”ny” “nun-ml 'l‘own.‘ {is he pointed to nglnss
up m the lflltlt‘, in wh eh there \\':1< 5 the liquid of :k u't‘eenish
m; his (WW 1'41] upon :1 l'ol'lwl pnpet‘ Ite:ll‘
mp films, I“, nap] (lntllti :I. “rim-11
(5,,l]f(.,eil,1)’ “ml 3 length)’ o :e too, for there are at ntnnlier of

eolor; nnrl tlien

eontintiwl: here is no

pnges."
He unfolded the papers and glanced at. the head of the

 

    

84 ROLLO, 'riw. noY RANGER; 0R,
writing, which was well executed, though it showed some
nervousness of the writer.

“ ROMANTIC 1.\I.\(ilNA’I‘l()N—--TRAGICAL REALITY."

These, were the, words heading the MS, and Town. at once
peret-ired that the writer thereof had heen foslt‘l‘il
mmtie hopes that had ended in a tragieal death.

The first. thins: our friends did was to bury the body of the
il'illl' hy the side of his daughter.

11.; some r0

This last sad duty per-
formed, the scout and Town. returned to the eahin and stated
themselves. 'l‘own. now took up the manuscript and began
reading it aloud.

It ran thus:

“ In one of the loreliest rural districts of 'irginia is a grand
estate, with a great stone mansion and lovely surrolmdinqs—
all that heart, could wish, art devise, and wealth procure—
ltnown as The. lohlell llorn. Four years ago the owner of
The (lolden llorn lay dying. lle was a haehelor, and no wife
nor child was there to mourn his eomiog death. ()nly Mrs.
Martha. llohn, his housekeeper, sat hy his dyingr hed.

“Mrs. llohn was herself a widow, with an only ehild,
(leeil. who at this time was away at, liiehmoud attendingr a.
boarding-Seluml at, the expense of the owner of The (lolden
Ilorn. Mrs. llohn, for years, had seeretly aspired to he. mis—
tress of The Golden Horn. hut all her eharms and Stravin of
manners failed to make an impression on the hard heart of
the stern old lmehelor. And now he lay dying, and Mrs.
Ilohn‘s aspirations and hopes were dying; too.

“ ‘ Martha llohn,‘ he said, as she seated herself by his bed,
‘l‘m dying, that's eertaiu.

The death-dews are upon my hrow
now.

And now, Martha, promise me upon my death bed that
you will do in 2 a favor after I'm dead and gone. You‘ve
been kind to me, Martha, and straightforward, and of all
others. I would trust none Sooner than you with so important
It (tare. Promise me, Martha llohn.’

“ Martha llohn promised hy all that was sat-red.

“ ‘ 'l‘hmt,’ eontinite‘l the dying" Ill-til, ‘ away up in .\l lilH“ on
the l’enoha'ot river, years ago dwelt an only sister, hut «he is
dead now. .‘he married there, and had a ehild—a tl:tll';l1it‘l‘
Domestic troalrle tiually parted sistt 1‘
lie went to the war, and sister died. 11a:

whom she ('nlled ('lara.
and her husband.

 
 

 

 

  

     
   

her him:
Bryant.
you to
Clara, l
paper)
of thy
dtad.
a husl
“ 3
the d
will ’

 

 

i u'

c amt
l H
l 0001
i win
‘1 lit“
1 we
l to
l
an

 

me

CO

 

 

 

THE IIEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 

her baby lived and was adopted by a Mr. and Mrs. Geoffry
Bryant. \Vhere the Bryants are, I do not know, but I want
you to find them, Martha, and give to their adopted child,
Clara, this will (here he drew from under his pillow a folded
paper) which gives to her The Golden llorn. She is the last
of my relations now living. For all I know she may be
dead. If she is dead, she may have married, and may have
a husband or child living; if so, give the will to them.’

“ Mrs. llolm renewed her promise to the dying man, though
the devil took llUSSUS>ltnl of her heart the moment. she got the
will in her fingers.

“ The owner of The Golden Horn died, and Mrs. [lohn be-
came more determined than ever to possess the estate.

“ She hastened to Richmond and found that her daughter
Cecil bad Just been married to a handsome, but penniless man

whose morals were anything but good. Mrs, llolm made
known her res«ilvc to her son-in—law and daughter. Both

Were as wicked as she, and so they Volunteer-ed their assistance
to aid her in her dark scheme.

“The trio went up to Maine and found that Geoffry llry-
ant had moved several years ago to Ohio. So they followed
on to Ohio, and Were there disappointed by learning that Mr.
Byrant and family had gone with a. colony to the then terri-
tory of Iowa.

“ The trio rigged themselves out with a eonveyanee and set
off for the far’West. It was more than two years before
they found out the exaet whereabouts of Bryant, and during
this time they took up their residence with the Arapaho 1n-
dians. Cecil’s husband, by dint of much deceit and trickery,
v orked himself into the confidence of the Indians So thor-
vughly, that they conferred upon him the honor of prophet.
But much to their disadvantage in playing for The Golden
llorn, the’prophet's name and fame Went abroad among the
.trap-tho‘s enemies. the white settlers, and so it became dan-
gt rous for him to venture within a white settlement.

“ When Mrs. llohn found that llryant resided at, (‘lontarf‘s
She found that t'lara, the
heir to The Golden Horn, had grown to a beahtil'ul woman-
hood" and Wm on the eve of marriage with Town. Farm-s-
WUI'l'J. All this they learned through l’tollo, the Boy Ranger."

Past, she began ltltlllL’“ her plans.

 

86 ROLLO, THE BOY RANGER; on,

“ Smoke 0’ torture 1" exclaimed Old Tumult, “I told yo
that ’ere boy war a young devil.”

Town. made no reply, but read on:

“ The first thing to he done was to prevent. the marriage of
Town. and Clara. And Mrs. [Iohn at once proposed that her
daughter Ceeil win Town's alfeetions from Clara, until Clara
could he disposed of as they desired.

“ About this time )Irs. llohn very suddenly and mysteriously
disappeared from the sta e of action. But her son and
daughter continued the work of crime.

“ Cecil nov assumed the name of Madge Taft, and went to
reside with Talliott 'l‘at’t, the Imlian trader, as his daughter.

“ Ilere she met Town. Farnesworth, and true enough, suc-
cccded in winning him from Clara.

“ The next work to he done was to secure Clara’s right to
The Golden Horn. This was the most ditlieult portion of the
whole plot. Ilowever, Cecil‘s hushand, who w;.s none other
than Dick Sherwood, resolved to kidnap Clara—carry her to
the Indian village, and there force her into a mock marriage
with him—obtain a certificate of the marriage—put Clara out
of the way, and then return to Virginia, and by presenting
the will and certificate both in probate,.csmhlish his right to
The Golden Horn. Then as it was not known that. he was
alr-ady Cecil‘s husband in the vicinity of The Golden Horn,
he could enter into another marriage with her, and thereby
cover up all suspicions of their previous relationship, should
any such suspicions arise. ‘

“The first. attempt, however, to carry Clara away resulted
in the capture of Sherwood. and hut for the timely arrival
of Rollo, the ranger. it would have ended in his death by
hanging in the forest. The young ranger cut the rope with
his saher, the instant that the settlers turned their faces to~
ward the post, and a friend to the unfortunate man came
from his concealment in the woods near the scene of the
execution, and restored him to Conscioiisnesa. In oruler to
mislead the Settlers, the hody of a Sioux Indian, slain by
Rollo, was hung to the linil) where Sher-Wood had been left.
The wolves and vulturesstripped the hones of iisllesh, thereby
the detection of the (-heat was- never found out untilafter
the attack at \Vildwood lake. This latter all-air was all 0w-

5: ’ ht

' Sh
\
. rc

 

 

 

 

 

- ley,

' Shelter upon Two Islands.
releasing Sherwood.

 

'rtIts IIEIRESS OF THE GOLDEN norm. 87
ing to the wicked cunning of Sherwood, (flies Father Aines-
He had hoped, that by drawing the settltrs out to the
meeting heyond reach of their stronghold. he would not only
capture Clara, hut. wreak vengeance ttpon them for the
‘hanging alfair’ in the forest. In this he partially sue-
ceeded through the cooperation of the duck-disguised Ara-
pahoes. Clara was captured by Aintsley during the contliet,
and along with Madge, who assaulted the 71316 of prisoner

also, for purposes that are plainly significant, carried away;

but she and Madge were recaptured, as was also Sherwood,
by Old Tumult and Town. A storm coming up, they sought
\V’hile there, Jllzulge succeeded in
And together they escaped, carrying
Clara away with them, though Clara knew not the part that
Madge was playing. '

“ Madge shouting for help, when away from the islands, was
all a cover to conceal suspicion.

“ I will here mention, that Rollo did [mom of the four sav-
ages being in the hold of the ferryhoat. It was an arrange-
ment for the capture of the scout and Town.”

“ Ho! ho! ho! roared ()id Tumult; “it war a galorious
failure, too, I‘m dreamin’, eh boy ‘5'"

“Indeed it was," returned Town., then he read on :

“Rollo and Sherwood laid another trap at the. Devil‘s
Staircase, for the capture of Tumult and his friend, but this
failed, also; so Rollo informed me the morning following the
defeat. .

“The ranger also informed me that through the instru-
n'ontality of Madge Taft, Clara had been induced to marry
Sherwood. The renegade promised her that he would liber-
ate her and Madge just as soon as the wedding was over,
and a eert‘itiette of the missionary—who was gotten up on
purpose for the occasion, he being a white renegade called
Tom Jules—securely in his pocket. Sherwood‘s intention
Was to drown (Ilara in the lake when pretending to escort
her home. Madge was to meet him there at the lake, when
they would at once take their departure for the East—he to
prove his claim to The (lolden llorn as the husband of the
deceased heirt‘sg. “'hat more would really he necessary to
establish his claim, tie-Cordith to the will? Nothing. But,

88 Rome, run BOY RANGER; on,

 

alas! in the very hour, yea, the very minute of their triumph,
death seized them both 1

“Thus you have a full confession of the sins of Martha
Ilohn and her son-iu-law and daughter. And perhaps you
would ask, where was Martha IIohn during the latter part
of this wicked drama? I would answer: Martha Ilohn
writes this confession, for Martha llohn and Talhott Taft
are one and the same I I donned my disguise to aid Dick and
(lccil in their work of wickedness that was hatched in my
own brain. .

“ And what has become of Rollo, the ranger, will be asked
as time goes by, for Rollo will never again appear on the
stage of action.
to me, that Town. Farnesworth, in his attentions to Madge,
and his conferences with ltollo, did not detect that Madge and

’tollo were one and the same person I

“ I’oor Cecil! she was brave, daring and strong, and played
her part with all the skill of an accomplished actress. She
deserved a better fate, and but for the iutluence around her,
might have won it.

“ ()u the tahie by my side, in the little tiu box, is the will
that, I promised by all that was sacred to deliver to (‘lara
llolmes. “'ill the reader of this deliver it to her? It is my
last request. Man'rua ilonN."

And thus ended the manuscript, leavingr 'l‘o\\'n.\\'rapt in
wonder and surprise, while Old Tumult seemed tcrrihly agi-
tated. »

“ Of all the complicated cases of sin and sinners in disguise,
this heats me,” exclaimed Town.
()hl Tumult made no reply.

increasing.

" What‘s the matter, Tumult ?" asked Town.

“ llohnes! Holmes!” muttered the scout, as though he was
unconscious of so doing, “ as God‘s in heaven, it must be so !”
and then springing to his feet he cried, excitedly:

“Come, lad. let‘s rack out for the post! I believe I've
struck a lice-line! Fetch the will, lad.”

Town. made no reply, for the scout darted out ofthc cabin
and away toward the post, at such a rapid speed, that he
could scarcely keep in sight ethim.

llis agitation seemed to be

 

It has often been a scom'ce of great wondc?

     

’in
tl

 

 

 

 

 

    

 

“mph!

fartha
S you
' part;
'lohn
Taft
and

I my

fired
the
(lo?-
'30,
md

t
\

ed
he

’ l

 

 

 

   

THE HEIREES OF THE GOLDEN norm. 89

“ I declare, the old chap is terribly excited,” muttered
Town., as he proeeeded onward through the forest.

“'hen he reached the post, the old scout bent his footsteps
toward Geotfry lryant‘s eahin.

At the door he was met by Clara.

“ Why Tumult—Mr. Zaynor l” the maiden exclaimed, “you
re excited—what is wrng ‘3”

'l‘umult laid his hand upon the maiden’s h 'tl(l, and galee
“into her eyes as though he Were going to read her h-art
through,

“ And are you Clara Holmes 2’" he cried.

“'Yes; so mother—Jim Bryant—just told me. l)ut——”

“ Have you no rememln'anw of your parents ‘3" interrupted
the scout.

“I have none,” returned Clara, sadly.

At this juncture, Mrs Bryant made her appearance, and
havingr overheard their (amversation, said :

“ (‘lara was but two years old when her mother (lied, Mr
Raynor, consequently she could not he expeeted to remember
much of her."

“ But the father ?" exelaimed the seont.

“ He narted from her mother a year before she died."

“ Did you know him, Mrs llryant ‘3"

"I did not. I never .uaw him. He Went to the Mexican
War and never eame haek."

“ \Vhat was his full name ?“

“ Clement llolmes, st) his wife told me.”

“ Clement Holmes!" hurst from the seont’s lips; “then
thank (lodl Clara, you are. m, child! 1 am Clement.
Holmes l" ' _

,—

 

Yes. Old Tumult, or Roll Paynor, proved himself to he
the father of (‘lara——('lement Ilolmes! Iwill not attempt
to (loser-Hie lht- seenes of joy and happiness that followed this
“WP-min”, rm. they defy the power of this pen. The reader
can imagine what they must have been.

Following the reunion of father and daughter, eame the
newa of Clara being the heiress to a thst fortune in Virginia,
by what means is already known.

I will not undertake to narrate the scenes and adventures

 

   

 

 

90 norm, THE BOY RANGER.

through which Old Tumult passed after his separation from ’

his wife, up to his meeting with his ehild; Suffice it to say
that they were mauy———wild and dangerous.

Clara, as the wife of 'l‘ownsend Farnesworth, returned with
her husband to Virginia and proved her Claim to The Golden
Horn.

She forgave him his love affair with Madge Taft, though
he can not forgive himself for being made the dupe of the
wielth enehantresa.

After mueh pt rsuasion, Old Tumult was indueed to leave
the West with its wild :ulveuture, and take up his home with
hix~ ehildren in Virginia, among the quietudes of eivilizatihn.
Still‘ there was seareely a day during,r the remainder of his
eventful life but what the voice of his heavy ritle, Vibrator,
might have been heard rollng in prolonged reverberations
through the mountains that formed the southern boundary of
The Golden llorn. And after the day’s hunt was over, and
the strong old hunter returned to the mansion, with his
game-ling well filled, he was always met at the gate by a
group of ureliins, who \\‘t‘l('()lll(‘(l him with their childish
Shouts of joy, at d who called him “Grandpa.”

And here, de: r reader, I let drop the curtain over my im-
perfect—yet I hope interesting—drama, and lay down my
pen.

 

 

 

 

w The Ellt‘llfllllevl l’rim‘“
"WM, Fur tun nm

 

(DIME SCHOOL 5331311515.:

BEADLE AND COMPANY have now on thvir list the flxlltm-ing highly ntlmcilve untl desk.“

1

[ALOGUKH mnl SPKAIu-Jis, lyrqmrml M'lun‘s l_\' fur 34 lnmls, llnnilirs, rim; prlnlwl [rum 1 var, mpg
Rl’fd‘qmprhin: the hrs! I'wllwllun u! lmnn,r..n., lvmlwulnv nlnl puln-lir [lin'vL'Il~'~‘. lll'flmfld Mi
qulmn- published. [in-h \mulnu hm 1-:an law \, mm lwatnm‘ lulu] nu (a.an ul lulu, In

«at» each.

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 1.

.’ llnr-

     

'v l.n;‘.i~h.:‘nn l“'l :hv ‘

‘Fuawn‘s (‘Ui'l'llvlln‘ll- ' r nmlr nnd wumlv.
"*lm'n. l---r1m. Inlnm

I U. l'u ln-nvrni. l“ yr .\ \ lI ya.

"‘ull'll\\'nl|)l)ll(‘l|1umr! lur (\x'v- hm u.

l. .\l;|_\'. l'- r xuw- Ll'lv gull.

l\'. lur in r hm m.

 

 

.Thwn- N'nnhle n.“ \\ “1.1m Lila ..r Mn l3r:nllv_\'.

or mch nxnl It'll‘lllf.

Mn. Snitllu’ Cunh-uiun. Fur llwlv Mnl fx-nmle.

'l h- \I‘ ~I n u:' ll.-'.<]‘lrl[3. Furlin- yum"; lmlios
Mmiylng. ' r "\c a “4.1.. n.
v1.1 hf Sm --:~. la 1' mm nnlo a] -: ;
Ynnl u ,‘.':n 1h n, l-‘urllm .- llII‘lV‘:v nlnl {Wu 1'
l n\ “I llw Lm‘rrwns .ln.~« pnnn: l'ur lnnL
~ :l‘lMl Hm- m1 r.
~. n. In.- I'm-l l": r lhrm- llllllt‘ lyu'wlwr‘w
l't-r [hm-c Inwl: ~]n-.|l m»
ll ‘nuulu‘:- lur Lwcln: h mnh-a nnd

  

 

 

  

with ()avanllunmn. Fur eight [0

xnnlw and mm mule.

DIME DIALJGUES, No. 2.

The Genlul of Liberty. Fur two nmlca and on:

enmla.

Clnderullu, or the Little Glass Slipper.

The Societny Doing Good Ind Buying llnd. For
leverul rhunu'tcn.
he (-‘nlllen Rulc. For two nmh-n and two fl:-
“1310!.

Th GHLUI' the Fnir)‘ Quccn. Fur several fe-
"Illcfl.

lem In mnl llum‘ l".»r. Fur hm 4'llf‘l‘mll‘l’3.
lw ('nnnlry Aunl‘n \‘iniL l4) 11m City. l‘ul‘ sev-
eml rlmrurlers.

'8 TWU liunmlls. Fur two ll|.|l4'5-

Twin“ the Clmrnclcrs. Fur LllH'v- nml.-~‘.

'l‘ln- “Mm-y anily. For several ‘nnlnmln.’
'l'he lunnlmw. Fur m-vrml chameler

‘H M In erh- ‘ l'upulnr ’ Sluriun. Fur twu mulch

'l'ln- Nuw mnl tln» Uld. For two InnIeL

A N-n wimn at Last. Fur two Innlcb.

'l'hv -n~nh~rn. For two nmlrs.

’ 'hu 'l ' rm- MN) m N nun-v. l’ur fmn‘ male;
The ()lll b.4153: “'ill. For fwur Innlv'z.

"‘11-, IAHY-v l‘ .ilws ‘l‘ln-rm l‘lnr lvsr- Lnllu glxll.
For In v mulun.

luv <1 )mm'.’ l.nll \.

Fur Iiu- nmlu. m;.l one ’9

 

     

linw l . him! nn |l--ir4
'l'nu \ ‘I‘u-s
'l'hn l"|:rlM Alla-ling.

‘ 11‘} v.
'l'vvn- l:ll,'l.l.\ll vl'rn‘ulc)’. For two males.

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 3.

The May Qum'n. \lnsiull unul l’lurm‘ 'Ilmnu. 1H
perfnrnn-nl at (he Culnrnl n! .\~lrr l):nn.-, Cin—

Tfilmnni. Fur an entire r: hum].
. 0 llrn-In ernrxn Convrntinn. Fur h-n frmula-i.

I‘Wl'lnfl llu-l (‘unnlnnuu A Farr". H r IN" Hm L"-

Conrlin: an-r “Inn nllim. A Cullxwliulln. For
1“."- nmlus «Inl nnv l'rnmlu.

Nltlunnl Rrprum-huuivm-

our lllllll‘i.

unplug Lhc Draft. A Colnelliclm. Fur Humor-

out mule chunu‘wrs.

A Burlesque. Fur

'l'ln- Hrnhwl K'wr‘i. A llunnxmnn (‘nllm‘nyu 1‘01
1.“ n In LVN.

Manurer u. A Drmnnlic ('lmrmle.

v . . nlnl lwu vaIml-H.

The no ll-rnmns. ACulloqnyen costume. F01
1w” mules.
‘l; f mm. Sq-mmnl Mu-m'.

Sn n: llzv \Vlnlv l'u-nthcr.

\ nml‘ 1 :llnl w e Irmnlr.

The lhulr (‘nlL A licvimllve. For one umlo.

Fur twc

 

For two mull-s.
A Furl'u. I‘Lor fall

 

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 4.

no F?M¢ King. A Sr'enlc Dmum. Fur tun LIT
mare lit-I51)l\<,

starting in Life, A l‘etlw Fxlrl‘c.
l'lmlvn and lwn fl-nmlus.

Fll‘lll, “0pc mnl Clmrily. A ('ollmlny in Verne.

Ur film-u UH..- girh.

rhV RIM J-‘Mn. A Minor Drmnn.
mu rs ulhl nnu V'onmln.

The M :\'. A l"! »r..l

Fur three

l'nn'y. Forle liltleulrln.
w. A ll‘.rln-sq|n- Min-Himm-
i run] nun-r vl I'vvnnlv-M

A (‘HllmllQH 1‘0!

 

 

 

mmr tn wlnnn ll ‘n-vr i» l he.
PWan males and unv ‘mnuhn
hmnology, A Dim uuslun. l‘ur hw-zdy males.

For tum:

'l‘lu- Stnhhlrtnwn \'u|nntvcr. A Farce. For ""7
l nmlw ulnl Ivllv l‘I'HHI 
A Sum-s [run] “ l‘nnl My"
"l‘xn- (’lnnnm A l’nrlm Umnm.
mnl "ll"{l‘!ll1lli'. ..
ll. v, ('14-: k :nnl llrmnn. A Rhyxned Him-y. r0!
thrm- lllllt‘ girl».
Tlu‘ lllflll \\' \'.
What xhc Luigrr Sui».
; 1-“ r (n u m «lot
l'l":c('rivnw~- l l n-al. A Cullnqny. l’ltrlw“ “Vt
'l‘lh‘ [in \\':ml (4’ lln'nuvulelzcu. A Miuur lfirnmn.
1 Furf ur nml N. '
;’H..- lt'lh'r, For (we mules.

Fur {nur lllllll‘fl.
Fur lhruc null“

A (‘ulluqluu Fur [Wu buy].
A “ Negro " Bull-mp1;

 

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 5.

l'he Thruc Guyana
Irlnml ur lmrlul’.
SQlIllIIN-lll. A “ 'l‘hrm- l‘c-rs nn~' " 1-1...» .
ljlml tho Unrluin. A I)» :u‘~:"’ ('
I‘UYVMWO'Y“Ilull‘Jl'h'V‘,II11l-‘thlll' A
0' Ith l'i .Nuwivh'. A Juvrnilc lame.
ha.” mnl u lu u ‘L
h‘llln ulon [My nl \lmlrunv- <m’:u1|h"~i. A dim“
‘h'lllc. For N‘\'\‘I'lll lmnul» t'lmrm-lvrw.
g in “'I‘rqm." A >criu-tumic I'm-Mao.
Fur wvuml nmlu- : hum-urn.
'he Sclnml-lmyu' ’l'rlhnnnl.
god“ Fur urn at Her hm. u.
to» mum. 01 0 Iowa Mum“.

l". lr

. A Fully llxlzn\:r,;.n./,|.

 

  

  

A Dumnllc Eyl-

   
  
 
 

llIt-Hlu‘lc. I'lnr scum] nmlo Aunl hemnlu :lmr.

ln'tx'rr‘.
llww NH‘ (a (in an Anawvr.
vl'rn'm- 4.
1 Mn.
. _‘ '. .\l:u'n.
liv'\"' ll hug-A.
Tu . Mn.“ n1 lfi’v. A (‘ull guy.
EAIHWL (rum Mn'ixm l‘nlmru.
.\lu4ry Munuy. An Acting (hmmlu. A Punk
3 l
T):

l‘uflxim-nlln ll.-qui,crw'|[‘ \r

A Cullnquy. F)!

A (‘nll-nuu'. l’r r two "I‘llb‘f-
A .Nlnml Hun rn-nm'. E,

 

l“.,r h-n girlL;

)rmnu. w
a Six Virtnn-fi. F"? six yawn! lmllv-I.
.le w- 151‘»

A UOInfiUL A Bu ) at (1032):.) F9" fight 0' In“ Yul-MW

   
       
    
  
    
   
  
  
     
   
    
   
  
    
  
   
   
    
    
   
   
  
  
   

‘

‘ : Dime Swims h benewnialmols
.fi;

~_ A

DIME 1 MM fiUES, No. 6. '6;
“a c} VJ'LS up“. same.“ {For asvsl Mm} Sl'lr‘plfill‘z. For three females nnrl one malo.
and um: mule. 1w ‘wu Comm-Horn. For lim-e nmles.
Tin: l‘wl mull-r Difficulliu. For live! at H '1 he Vuu‘rim Ill Fully.
William I. 1. For n «In. lc ulmul. AimL l‘\:lx)'u licuux.
n mnlu.
ll'li

Wumnn'u light». For mven Jungle.) K
e Lila-l Suit. For two fenmlr's nnd one mm
M flea Sunni ('lnm. For n nnmlu-r ml ln»_\'s.
Christmas Mira-H. l‘lvr wwml little girln.
The 'l liruc Kings. Fur two mules.

1-..-

ll‘nr :l munlwr of femalfl;
For tour fcnmlu and 1.!”
(.131
nmlva.
All la llul. Gull] 11ml (iiiLieIL Fnr rhM
mul nw- mulv.
[“uo Generous Juw For aux nmlea.

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 7.

Tim Tum Bcggnru. A Minor Dmum. 1*‘nrlmirm-n 'l‘w» \" 3 nl‘ Lin». Cullnqnv. For two femu-
li-nmnw. The Rigluls nl Musio. A Colloqnymnl winellll
K'lw l-anllI-(‘liilll in Finn-Land. A Fairy-mend vim. For two ll‘lhilll'rl.

('I‘url Smcmu For mum-runs girls. llulmivas ('usc. A an'ry ln Verse.
vamy Yours llrm'm A Sorin-Cnmiunl [Mung-"l girls.

Fur tun l‘vllmlr‘ nml om: nmir. 'I In: Would lm S4 lionl-Tuurlio-r.
l‘ln- Wily to Wimllnun. A Culloqny. For lwol uminwr‘u l‘lxprrivm'e.
llmlcs. [Comm In Lila, 1m. Soon.

l

 

For ‘M
A School E!

For two “vulva.
A Humorous Pamgo

Wumnn. A Poetic l‘nssngc nt “'onll. For two For llll't'c Inflle.

buVfi. Eight U‘t'lork. A Little Girh' Culloquy. Fan
('lm "(llnpie-s. A (‘nlloquyu For two nmlvs. two llllll‘ (-lnldrrn.
How to (lrl. llinl of II liure. A School Drnnm. ’l‘ruu- Dignity. A (Julloqny. F‘H’ two in) 'I.

For sow-ml lmys. ‘Griz-f hm Expcnulve. A Colloquy. i‘ot two

‘(Hll‘lllllfl‘SIlHIUl Acrnlnpllslinwnls. A Sl‘llOUl lllllli'i.

Drama. Fm- twa mule: mnl lwn lk-nmlcn. ‘llnnllvl mm the Clio". A Burlesque. For t."
\ Pl‘ffl for tile Plunge. A (.‘ulluqny. For i.\\‘u‘ pu-rsnns.

milk-s. Litth- le Rhling Hood. A Nurury Lon-on.
flu: Ills of Drain-Drinking. For‘ Fur [Wu l't'lldlli‘fi.

tllrvc hay». 1A va Ayplimliun of nn ()lnl Rule. A Colloqulnl
{rue I’rnlv. A (‘nlim ny. Fur tum funmloa. l'uru .gu. For [no lmyu Mllfil on“ girl.
Hm 'l‘wu Lecturura. l'or nuuwruns mules. (‘ulorml Cuunllm. A Coiloquy. For two Hillel.

\ DIME DIALOGUES, Ho. 8.

.'h.- Fu‘n School. For n nlnnlmr ol‘ girl».

.‘ln- Enrolling Ull‘irur. For a munlmr of charm:-
lers, lllilll' uml ln-mnlo.

-lrnll l‘llllllnslnfll. For lliroc lmyg.

. l ol' the l‘l-riml. For (“new girln

Tln- l'uwl Rebellion. For two Innch nml one {o-

A Cniloqny.

(lelling n Photograph. For two male. and two
lvlnnlu-s.

'l‘he Snl'lt‘l)‘ fur General Improvement. For n

‘ llllllllu-l’ ml girls.

:\ Suhlunmu In Disguise. For I number of char
nl’lurx ll|lll| lllHl [vulhlm

  

\

 

 

 

um) 3. .(iru-ul l‘lxln-u lnlionx. Fol two boys.

film- lint Sure. For several umch and two fv~ l'lnying School. For live funllu 1nd ‘0!!!
l‘l:l v.1 ; Ilmlm.

Cmullr‘a Vulnelpcnle. For one male and one fc- (’lmlws fur the “Mullen. For one mulanud cnl
inn v. i emu :-.

   
  
 
 
   
   
     
   
   
  
  
 
     
 
 
    
     

Tlu- l“lL'lIrl-!. l’nr Im'rrnl small l'liil‘ln-n.
Tlm 'lr'ul of I‘etcr b'lvpcr.
cbz-l'zlrlcl‘l.

‘A llnnl (‘use. For new-ml mule chnmrten.
For scvurnl Infllr GlII'SiH. For u-n female: and one nmlu.
.

DIME DIALOGUES. No.9. '

Advrrt'sing fur llel . For n nmuln-r nl' In-i|,nl.-s.i'l'ln- I.nw ul llnnlnn Kindness. For two {gunk
As 'n-rinrumxl in k n- \\'nmlwunl High Sclnml. ipuiln-‘l ('luildrvn. For It mixed $011001.

Amaril'n in linmnnd. (in'cling. Fur qu buys, llmlm uml (Tuning.
wztll nu u Haznlu fur the Whirl: srlnml. (‘nriolnuns IllHl Authlins.

le Hid :unl «the New. For tour fenmlcsund one line {\ew Svlmlnr. For n numl er of glrll.

'l'lu- Sell‘vmmle Mun. For film-e mules.

'l‘lu- Nlny Qllm-II (N0. Q). For A school. A fimcy
drown xuul nuisicul piece, will: continue and ling.
(lirvclinnn.

Mrs. Lurklund'l Economy.
llm-v gills.

Slmuld \Vnnu-n hi-Given the Bullet! A Dobum

For two ‘rumlvh l“. r I~'\'rl'l|l lmj a. ’

DIME DIA LOGUES, N0. 10. I
l'ln- 'l‘nn- Wu". l‘~r tlm buys and one '11-;

' \ 'iv‘ . “ I'lllllcn|ll"(“'i~lll I.’

P: n :1. ll l..1k- lu'l‘bull. For Ulrw girll.

'l'ln- .\l :il.:l 1hr SvIlllvr. is”! luo boys
.'ui.x;‘l. :l l'lwnl1r.ml«.n.~.

Hill illllul-s mul N -w TiiIu-o; or, 1776-l8'45. PO
‘\\"1“Irl‘l. S. luml l’l-slivul.

. lmrl llumlrrzu} ‘5 Hal. For two mnien And “In

mulc.

Clmit o of Trmlei. For twelve little boys.

Tln' ImprlmK. Fur lwn lvmnli'x.

Thu \‘irlnn. For four fc-nmlel nnd one male.

l'lu: Din-list. Fur two l:u_\n.

'l‘ln 'l'rznu Philosophy. For several fenmlcl “lltl
{no malt-n.

A .mml l'lllucntlvm.

For four b0). II‘

 

Mn. Iil'nrk Twnn.‘r Slme. Fur our- mn'gmml one
ll’l-lil v. i : A wp‘w
’“n- I llil Flog. For three ll») I. SCho-‘l l‘eali- A
\ ll . l :11.
Hm (‘unrlof Folly. For lllflll\' L'l'ilq. l
Jrr l Lin-n. Fur six buys nnd six L'll'lI. ‘

i

y

    
  
  
   
     

icnmhl. For numrruxm Illl|ln‘>‘llll|~l {cm-den.

in: liglltol' Low. For [no “1‘th

   

l'ln: l"ln\\ .vr Children. For iwulro gills School Mme-
Frsllznl. \\' ' .4 Nu (‘n-mn , or, All is l‘mr in L0"
The Deul' (Rule. For three: boyu. - -.'..l mu:- - mm M... l...“
“Nun-mun. For two lmyl. i *7 u v , ,\v. {ding Ullaqu F3!“ .01:
Reba-n11. For a SchooL Adupwa. run: wuumu.

 

  

To! fernn’u;
J“ and 131.,

(l (me "Jan

 

girls,

 
  

 

'0 rpm“;
Minnelli!

  
  
 
 

Fur “a
hop] E»

  
 

pump
1y.

  
 

Fat

  
 
  
   

 

 

 

 
 
    
  

  

Dlmc School Sorter-Dialogues.

 

‘5? enrnnm are very Dacoilfnl. For le boys.

0 Conundrum Fuully. For tlm-e nle: nml
three lenmlcn.

Curing hetucy. For three nmlel Ind {our fe-
mllm.
‘lcl and the Bennslnlk. A drown pleas and {airy
‘Ale lllanm. Fur En- (‘lmrzu'wrm
the Way w Do n. and Not. to Do u.
formula.

HOW lo lemme llenllllv, \‘l'anlllxy ID-l Wise.
For one man and one female.

The (Julv Truc l ‘10. Fur {no girls.

Cllflic Colluqunel. For two b0) n.

Fur lhrw-

 

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 11.

l. (luntnvus Yuan and (‘rlntlerm
ll. Tmnvrlmzv nnxl llnjzlznt.
mehiunuhl» lllfisipnliun. Fur two llttle rim.

A N‘hnul (‘hnrmlm l‘nr twn buy: nnd two fflrl:
Jmn lnuelnw’n ‘Snnga of Seven," Arrun oi
as a rlws.‘ decor and rm'iullve, luv uveu girl.

A Drlmlr. l'V-r 1m” lmys.
lixuuzwl Dirk‘s law‘n. For three boyl.
leul (‘Imrmle with Tableau. From
l’rslirnl
Vrr} (luv-Minnnhlr $10!)”.
A .\rll. Fur llln‘r "ml-m.
'l'lw l'urnl llunllrxnnn. For "V0 boil.

Schoo‘
For two top.

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 12.

Yankee Amnrunra. Fur two nmlm- and one {9-
lmlle, unl reverul anlmnlinry clmrm‘lrrl. ’
Vllcrl \Vank-d. For two leumln-a runl one
mule, nnd uvernl suhuldinry ('lmrnuera. I
but 1 WM Young. Fur lwu uuln. ‘
The Must l’reriouu Heritage. For hm boys.

The Double Cum. For two males and qur fw‘
Inch-o. . .
no Fluwer‘gnnlm Fnlrld For five little gnlw.
hmlxna'. Novel. For Lhn-o mule: unl km. 1.--

Dulles.

Bun” o! the Wlnlown.

For :hroc glrln.

Almlmnp.

lSir

A Fumin not to l'uuem After. For ten chnrae
n-rs.

Huw m Mun-rug». An Mlln chin-do.

'l‘lu- Vacuum; Escapade. ‘or {our boyl ud
te-m'hrr.

'l‘lm‘ Vnughly Boy.

U‘fllr'.

For 1hr” {omllel And one

 

An Arm-g Charade.
All lu not Gold that Glltlcrl.

\‘rrh.
'lrursit Gloria Muudl.

Clmrmlc.

An Acting I‘ro-
A Lulu Aclln'

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 13.

I‘m 0‘“ ln tlw Mnmlng. For lllh't: main-4. |

in lmliynnliun {\lcu-llnu. Fur FE\\l’Ill ll-nm‘n-n. l

Before uml lit-hind Lne bcunvr. lwvr MWU‘hl lmys I
And girl...

The Sums-I. Boy.
learner. ,

Blua Board. A Dreu Plan.
And buys.

Not no Bulu It Seems.
ernl oulmhlinrivl.
A Curbutnno Moral.

fnrnnlu.
Home vs. Santlment.

For a number of buy and 
Fnr serum] girl:

For two glrll nnd new
For two malt-a and one

A l’nrlor and Exhihllion

l‘vllln- lrrnm;
\Vurll». n: x \thh. For fourhoy- AT‘Il 1 Mather.
{\n wuh\\'urul M Vail. A 'Jr'nlunua l'ruverb.
Fur ru \u'rle mnlw ('llH'Mt'ln rs.
r film-ping haul); A Fairy ’l'nla llrurnu
‘M n wlw-l.
An lnnmenl Intrigue. For two ulflll'l and 0M
fem: a.
01.1 .\Nlll)', the Formno-lrllvr. For lhrve girl!
Uny-lnlk. Fur Im’vln. lilllu lmyl.
Mulhrr is Dvml. Furniuvcml lilllr glrlu.
A l’r u Liml lllualrntion. Fur h o l-vyn nnd cm
girl.

Tl

CARL PBETZFL’S XOMIKAL SPEAKER, No. 16.

 

Don'd Been Afraid,
Glmbul'mg.
lnvlelnhernnno,
Gretchen Und Mo

0P.
Echnlldnl,

Addrean In a School,
lHll S rlzrru.

The \k‘n” nnJ Lamb,
The Lion in lm‘iu,
Trrnrlneq' nf Jonr
llun‘t Cu lu .\l:|n usLllr,
“ Du! Munqulh-r," _ lmrturo on Man,
'I'Illl'lhld‘s Dream, l lluul,

N0 ('r} ing lllL’ll Alwfe,‘ Slnvrx'n Sun Snmuo-l,

bowl].- rzlwml: ln-s, ’ >
(lmll’l llulw. l’o lll, l .\|tuml lllstwry.
0d Dumhmw, lCurt Bun-re llm llurre.

Rwlu-mwn [n r ln-r l‘mur Frequva ('villvru.

(‘me of Young Bang”
The Illinois Assurnluy,
'l'lre (‘unnilml Mun,
Rn.“ Bug ahuw,

"Fa See Oursvln-a.
'l'nlu v! a Srrvmzl lllrl.
'l'llo- In aid”! Sm. l),
The Emly Bird, 010., I
lr‘lunic, l’rc-un-l m; n Soldxor,
‘(In Lugvr, The Run “on,
‘('nmll~-'u \Vrddlnz-Dny .\l\‘ (‘lllllllllvlldy
LYnung Wivlwv (lulu, lScllno-iug'n link.
v'l‘lle Boa! (few in l'wril,‘l$~y Slllllflu‘h
liv‘nr‘lvnlh‘l.

lllr Va: l’lxlnlr‘n',

1.1. m. lulu!
V ‘r | r “' l1..~nul"l'rulllnuuv

‘Sung 4r! the Sink,

THE DIME SCHOOL MELODIST,

Com rhan tho mullc And wmdnuf familiar and
lln. . o umnnnr, fur Sl'lmnl Singnu. le. elvl: vn
Ian M IKI. Compilud and arranged h} (Shown;

THE DIME

er'luln tho nu.-‘r .nd wordl of the man 'rpulnr Sony'- n
.4 Root. V

\i 5"ICO, Gwrgo Unlq Slap no Glour. bum

' ‘ ad I. n
bvaunful Sungs, Duels, Trim, 21.6., Irrang
lnrv immlm-nun lulled w chlldreu of tho mm

C. liixruxn.

MELODIST,
3 Had . b J. R. Thoma 091,7”
Tilt)"; ma other eclobrnczd mm

  
 

  

Dime School SeflcI-aSpeakem'
DIME AMERICAN SPEAKER, No. 1.

Your: Ameriu, “The truly (rent, 1J. Jehuom's orntiou, ‘Tho prophecy for tho V’I
Birthiisy of \Vuahlngtnn' Eurlv ruliriug uud ris’g,‘A Dutch rurv, iiiniiuisllwl pruhlcml,
Plea for the Muiuu luw, A. urd‘s orutiou, The wvutlu-r, ‘Hunur in the timid,

Not on [he hultletluld, i’l‘ruc unliouulity, Tho hum-d term. iluunortnlilv ol puler
'I'ln- ilnliull struggle, Our nutul «lay, il'hilnsophy upplleul, iWulmI‘n polit‘l KV‘flil‘m'
bulwpondnur‘e, jlntuiligt-ncu the husia of l’vuuy \\ iv, pom-d fum- A \~i~'iou in the forum,
(mr rountry, "l'ho \vur, llilwly. 'l‘ruv Civllllllln' , li<h. 'l‘hq- pun-24,

'l h.- (uphilin of nmn, (.‘huruq- of lilht hrigmlo, Sul‘d‘y night's ' v‘ls, Wonunn‘a rights,
(iiltll'lll [or (ii lln- (ovo‘n -\ll.-r tlu- hump, f‘ in u'pul {flung-i Right oi lln- guvcrnad,
'l'lu- lruils :‘fxlu- mu, ’l‘lu- Kiwi milioml, ,Nu l't'ill‘t' with oppres- .\l_\ ladder,

'i'lu- Sowin:-xn:u*lninv, t‘-m- ol' .\lr. Marin-1h, l hiou. Woman, i
'l'ruu nuln'morl, l'r. l'. on l-l:rv-noln:\ , i.\ lhurilhgn'inLr sornmn, Alone,

l'm» nlyslory ol' lii‘o-v “Unhingtnn‘s l|:||H\'. i'l'hu- rod of rirhrs, vl‘hn- n‘ill'liion of1861,
i'hc up: unnl downs, i'l'lu- Milli-r boy's .xyrvm Uri-m, ll\'l'.\ lllI’n'rlnilfllllt‘ llisunion.

DIME NATIONAL SPEAKER, No. 2.
Union and its h-sults, 'l‘vrritori-il uxlmllalun, lililln. \lurder will out,
Our munlry‘u l'ulure. Martha llopkim, luliwr Hazard Perry, String for the host,
Tim stumuumn'i luhors, 'l'lw, hmhlul Mum‘s Mory “or domain, i‘Iurl)‘ rising,
Lot line rhildh-q \u-q-p, 'l'ln- Inulh-r-uf luv: n1un,LSvstmxm ol helifif, 1’80!“ of kindness,
Our «ountry‘u 1: wry, Rh'h uu-l pmn~_ " ‘h.- lllliillll ('hiri', Gales of sleep,
Union :1 llolm-lIol-i, . ---i1u_vt!w|-I~lipao, 'l‘lu- iudrpondr-uLtanner, 'l‘lm luxglu,
iiulcpulnh-uru lu-ll, lv-uulu-s of line luw, )lre. Hruuuuur‘u hull, 'l‘he lion-dish gem,
The sohoiur‘u dignity, Iii» lung! git up, llnw the mom-y minus, Purity of the struggla.
A ("ll’lhllllflfi l'hnut, 'l'hn rulv of life, Futuri- of tho lmhionu, ()ld uzu,
Sluhilily of (‘hristiuuity (‘rv‘uwniuuulory MUS. Our country first, l:ul,llh|uuliful and true,
The {run higln-r lnw, 'l'hrm- fools, and ulum ~z, The worm of the still,
The mm grout, III-ml, \Vushiuulon, llrilish lnlluvnro, Mun und thu Infinite
'l'ln- Hhip nn-l llu- hird, ()nr L'TI‘Al. iuhrritunr‘r, llul'm-m- of .lvtl‘rrson, Lungzuuzc (if the 
chuunsch‘s Rpm-ch, Eulogiunl on li‘y t‘lu)‘, Nu'ionul h-ntrods, \Vzuhingtolh

DIME PATRIOTIC SPEAKER, No. 3.

Anlerit‘n to tint World, Th:- lrish (-lv'nvnt, Illiatory of nur ling, y'l‘hn end- of anCO.
Low, of rouulry, ‘ruiu'q spin-v i, T. F. vaughvr'i :ulilrs-An,‘Frw-dom the wulchwofi
Right of wil'preservu- Christy’s uprorh, \Ve owe to the iil‘lull, :(irinia of our nutinn,
Our vuuwe, [tin-u, Let me ulmm, Lust npm-rh of Stcpheu‘llutv of Chrlntlnn pub

 

 
 

 

 

 

A Kruturk‘mn‘n appeal, Hrigund in-r»(h-nernl, A. llougluu, rii'ptu,
'Kx-ntuuky uh-udl'ust, 'l‘lm drui't, Lincoln's nIv-snngo, Turkoi' Dun”: oration,
Timidin is trenaou, Union Squan speeches, (in-at lh-ll Roland, IA fur v-u plan,

Tln- umruln,

A uril 15th, NM,

The spirit of ‘61,

Tim precious herltngo,

Thu Union, ho New Your and Die The nulu ol’nluvery,
()ur mun-1r)“: cull, Union, A l‘ureigner‘n trlhulo, ,
'l‘hu story ofuu oak tree, Kim: Cotton, ,(Tutlmlir cuthI-tlrnl,
L-wg on my log, 1l‘luttle anthems, iTho “ Speculuton.”

DIME COMIC SPEAKER, No. 4.

A

Klu-hryorgnsa on the war l’o , A mug of woe, Pnliticnl Atump space
A:«- bluntly considered, A ‘e-xnn Eulnuium, Ward‘s trip to Richm'd, Comic (lrununur No.
Emly rising, How tn he 21 tin-mun, i’urody, uruwell tr the bottle,
Tho \vm‘p und tle hoe, Thr- {iuilml Stun-s, Tim mount-'hnnk, 'l‘hu ror‘n lug,

Comir (irruunulr No. l, I'uil‘u um-‘t of himiolf, Compound inn-rout, The smut-k in V'hrml,
I‘ru n I u Kingll- Ilunl, l‘rurlii-ul phrcxmlogy, A nor-mun on the font, Slit k'wlo-tinilion ()fwlfo,

 

 

  
 

A. “'nrd‘» .ulrivv, lh-uulii'ul, 0M drug .lm'k. 'l'ulv of u hut,

iluzfu: or: l’it'kwivk, (‘tihhugm 'l ho tidwx" l ilet, 'l‘hn dwlmlinu ('luh,

Romeo and Juliet, lliu cruirll' I‘wlplt‘. i'Jriuu U'l.inn. :\ llulvh sermon,

Happiness, \Viu l isu lm' n-lur lilu-i i'r min-H tn otlirn-w‘ iii-nil wrun- on lot-omniion,

1)ugfl, Funny folks, Vlm is my oppnmuti ,.\lrs.(.‘uudlcun umbr’lla

DIME ELOCUTIONIST, N0. 5.

SEC l. T‘lzmnrrim or Turn: l’Vi'M‘HTmN —-i Unwuw. iiilllu'i of Composition as applied to

Fnulia in rnum iulion: how to: old Ilium. vital \\'ivrni~, i'ilril*1'~ "mull-mun. vim. -lv'.. ril‘.

   
    

Sl‘ll‘. ll, ’l'nw. AM or quro '.~-Sln'riduu‘- SHIH’. ltw | xsmml‘unsl
l.i~‘t of [hu- i|1|\§i“ll~‘,l‘il‘., rim. oh'. ‘ Inn \"MNI; r sluil‘; liyron; Ii-Imiui. I-tl'.

;
ISEU. ill. Tun (‘om-oxuur Hrrxmxw or ANSlZl'. \’. “mun/Hi ssi-rtloon Au'nnuunlfl.

DIME HUMOROUS SPEAKER, No. 6.

How tho I” ~m-v- {gm-Q. ’l‘m-lrv run mud, The, myxlerinul smut,
iil‘ll hi do ri'a Fourth of lliglvl mum's), 'I‘ln- hump.
.IuI} omlion. S4 mn'ilir i-‘Villn‘i, 'l‘Iu- w'rsorpnnt,

 

I

A and Marv,

A Hiring oi onimm,
A [High ,Ilory,

(Tutu. if you Illn'ull Lo, on no.‘ l‘lu- ugrr. 'l‘lu- m-vrn-I ,
Courtship, Jo Iinu’u on l1‘:|[l)'n':\l‘, i'l'ln- rorknl'y, 'l'hu nluwn uln‘r,
hold, ‘ idly 01' tin- lu-II wrliud, Ii'l'lu! mnilish, 'i‘hu uw-ful rim-tor,
Devlin, Lot Skinnor'l clingy, The {Me of Sq-rgonnh'l‘ln- wa|lvrinll,

Dow, jr.’| lecturen,
Ego and evil“,
thinnnblo women,
For" thlullel,
(loud-untier

\luirinmn)‘, 'I'hin, 'l‘o tho hmdmlon’ union
Nothiin to do, Tlu- h-ler‘»: quurn-l, Mum»,

Uld ('uudlv's umhrvlln. Tim llulncricun \'00¢l« Vngurlq-I A! popping CD.
Old Hrinwu's «on, (-hut‘k, nation,

“ i’mldlu your own cm Tim harp of a thousand “' mt . wouldn't be,
Gottliol» Klein-yawn”, I rum," Ii l Ynnkoe dmdla Aim

r ugn,
rhluckenllchur‘x umlus i’urody nn “ Aruby’aiTho but of thv anrplnta. Zo Monkuetare,
oloa BiglowloplnlounL Daughter,” The much to Moacow, “938. ,’
' .__. ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3

 

Tho world we live ln,
Woman‘s cluimx,
Authors of our liln-rty,
‘lm ronl lllllqlll‘rl'r.
Tllc rillzun‘s ln-rlluga,
l:|l_\',
Th.‘ nu-rhuniv.
'nlnre & Smurf“; I l.
ln- mmlorn go ll, [\Hll.
Oasiun’s wl-lre: < Io Im‘
‘ndqwmll-m'r hell, l'l77.

‘lnlln Burns, (Gettysburg,

<3 ml in lleavrn,
Mm Prudu's Iva-party,

on the ollnmtlon,
Haul Scllwuckhrilner on

Wonmn’n mfl'mge.
All lor n nulninnlion,
Ulnl or'urm, Dion,
'l'ln‘ smut m- >121le u... n
L lzarl»-n::lml>]>:snxn-r
whom you lu-l mg,
ls whnuon lllfllu‘ l1,
'lwro‘s my mun-1v,

  

 

TlmT, vcr ohm bell,
I

'l-v lanolin-Hm- ul' Illo

  

'l'llv lwu livvs.
Tho 1: no u hol v

Dime School SeriesmSpeakerl.

 

 

DIME bTANDARD SPEAKER, No. 7.

l'l'lm llihlnl,
"l l|~‘ }: 1' wulnl them‘om

 

 

 

NHL-"Jo, Wu, .l‘nlgw-‘Hl ll.l|llllrl~‘.. \|\ .owvn‘
l --| I. wl' l‘ n n I- o. ll. .w, 'l'm- H mm woumge,
'lo" mm of rlllll‘hllnl \\ nu i~ w:.r,
\_'!‘l< «Huts. l‘ulh-r.
' . In llluma \l\ lh n rruh Ira,
lo: ‘. ' .H w milly r, I» "Ill" :.l\v1y« ('nn 'l ho 1m" ,
rho l‘n'l L. .\l . “u! llll lr, 'l'nu pm :nnl nut-Ila,
Yong 1.‘ Hz, l‘u: llflllll [\Vhll‘Ifl. llh- mom rn l‘nrimn,
Tho ul-llva‘ lhilll, \\'i~hin;z. lmmorlnlll) ul Hm Sour

Lil},
'l'llo- illlvr.

uTlm unhclicver,

Tuil-Hulvra,
' ‘lm \‘nluv of mom‘y,
Mcluoriv (llsqulnlllnll,
lh- surv )nu sun: right,
iv o: gmul rln-n-r,
4‘1‘:|lvlhul full“, [dun-w.
'l'wmln: :L m 2|\1'll l i n «-
Var-um", ll-ovlnln .
'l‘hu- H u- :rwrllnr \~ ol' u’lr

‘ r. n bleulnx,[Alnerlvn,
lbvrlnun from hind-shell,“ Right "(Occasion " a Broken mmlullnna,
anliut,‘

'l‘m‘ ll :H'l A'\‘ slom',

()r-t'ulmllun,
T’It', ~lnulunl ol llnlln.

‘llurohun :Lrnl during,

l'l'hc hrokcn household, lA Ihol at Lhe dccnnur.

DIME BTUMP SPEAKER, No. 8.
Ban. Lu. Stubbs’ vlow-;Good~nnm

[fullncy,-Tomptetlonn of cltlu.

Lil'u‘u nun-m,

llllnmn nature,
l.:|\\'}'('rx,

'rongx of (hp llnli‘ms,

"l'llere in no drillll,
Rum-I,

,A fruitful dim-nurse, 5
A l"n-xn'lnn:|n‘a «lin Hr,

 

‘:\Hn-:|l in lmlmll or .\1n. [lllllhl ll Allwnrll :n'qnl'll

 

Klan x' ol'mlr. llilmrl)‘ 'l'hv- :nmuu-nr r unrlnnnu,
Lily Mrmm, ,'l‘h.- Iohl \vnh‘r mm,

\ llTQ‘Wlll. ‘l'l‘l'l‘lflllt‘lll‘)' ul'Slqufl,
Min-nomiml,

Lila-v I_\' ol’ wow h,
B‘N‘Ht'll from Fonm‘n-nt‘v, N‘l'lnglzlnl N lllr I'm an, Tho ’HHI‘H‘ [Anna .lno. l'homlmon’sdanger
h an srnlnnon lumu‘h'l)‘ 'l‘ln- nnw-vn Ill-:lh- lh-l‘l, lhxlhw o! .\murix'nn riLi- llunw vh-unln: I

The lnnils to llallvplllrss,

L

A lmy’u phllouophy,

no out. your row,
Elx-yeur-old‘l provost,
Th. Iulcldul cu,
A valedlctlon,
Popplnfl corn,
Tl“. editor,
The sumo, in rhyme,
Tln‘ l'niry shoemaker,
“'lmt was learned,
Pro“ on,
Thu horse,
Tln- Kn:th in the gums,
Tale ol lln' [mph 5,
ll.‘ou|lc)".~4 9.1m My
Tumpow-mm!.-xtmc1
Tlln' l‘ulllu‘r‘sl'lliill,
Elm l~ln‘|'lltll hl‘llnlur.
Maid-h“ IISllllll of “fr,
A Ini\'lur.-,
Plan {or sknlcfi,

 

l’ln-a Ior lln‘ livpnhlir',

Playing hull,

Ah, w 1y,

l.lvo for Inmgflflnz,
Luy of the- hunpeckod,
The outalde dog,
Wnlfaml lamb,

Lion in love,

Frogs asking {on klng,
Slrk llnll,

(Tountry and town mlce,
Mun null womuu,
Hnnnr,

l;(ll|l\-|llflntcr,
LllU-A-lhings,

lluln 'a wliloqny,
Ropvnluln
l’lr'l l'nr .
llnmh'l! [ rllrl “5"lv

y :m )ll'lrl’ ()hri‘unm,
\‘hv-rt lr‘_'»~'y

Shrimps on amusements,

v

   
 

l'l'm- nmn,

 

,lt is not )our bunineu

DIME JUVENILE SPEAKER, No. 9-

How [he raven becmneu Nolhlnu (0 do.

Mar , Honesty bell! pulley, ,
A lmlhvr'l work, llmn'en,

luv nuns, llo for the fil'lllfl,
W ho rules, Fnuhiun on the brnln,
A. sheep Ilory, On Slmnglmifl,
Llulne correspondent, A Imlle
One good turn deserves Cmmbim’lm
.)l): dream, [anothen llmnmopnlhlc soup

nun 'olus and ,

l'll rlevfruse tobacco, Malt, 8y", [00mg
Alnomlc, hundred year! la

The old bachelor,

’ The mmlnlnn and MI
Prnyrr to light,

‘ Links sermons. [rnzon
Lmlv .llln, Snulll: s on uln-rlrlrlty,
Allflv‘lllm" lnnwnl, 'l‘ln- lwn I'rmlloq.
John'y Slll'imyaoxl hunts Tlu- on-nn Morn)

Man-‘1v lm thy lilllv, do ll, well,
(‘hull (I, of hours, _l,illl.- plus,

I’uur liichnrrl‘s snylngfi ,ll :m-‘lmll, [fox-gr.
\\ lu Lillul 'I'om llopur,‘ Prescription for wring

 

DIME SPREAD-EAGLE SPEAKER, No. 10.

Ban llnltvr’i l'mllnll,

“mm \'on Spit-:ulK 4th.

JU‘lI llillingn‘ :~-l\'im-,

A h ml alull sermon,

Tln- hooln.

Tln- nqzwvur,

N0ul| mul lln- devll,

A lovrr'l luck,

Hifnlnlin Adol‘nhul,

Dim-Minn and 'urmlile,

Dlullnctlou'l dludvnnlw
mith, Ingest.

Bualmllnn Bendlbuq

A stock of muons,

l gi,,.,|k1,,g (or (ho sllcrlll.‘

l

l’ll\ll.;’ u §l|\\"':|l,
'l‘lu-n :llnl no“.
‘ ‘ lrrlnrxng,

 

(Tuluimnllcllls,

llnnl lin-s,

Dun llryunl‘s speech,
A rolorecl virw.
Uriglnul Maud Muller,
Nobody,

Train of CerquIL‘lnCOI,
Good Advice,

The llclling pdm,

," \\’nm:ln’.~l nghh,’

. \lurlamln't 'l'ln' l: g,
l l

 

nv'll'nilmqu “Arman! l. trm‘nlnrn‘

S4 hlxll/orl‘e philompodr Kiwsinu i'. llli stmet,
' ll‘Vfillllllllllll\‘
‘5ll-l|ll)'.\llx1‘ll,

'l'llv olliw sun-lief,

. :u-L 5pm", Ul‘l bachelor»,

.er linglnml tragedy, \Vuumn,

The :uu-iwnl lmrln-lor, l'l‘lne Nlaun Niumn,
.lm'ol) \Vllllllc's .l]n‘c€ll,ll’wuplr will talk,

Jvrkn prognostime Kwswkhlnwr's hall

A “'Hl’I' will! Shanks, \Vlm wonllln’l lul ll?!
s": [nvengmNL Don't llc‘pt‘lld on llflddy,
A mule ride, [hnuerl,, Music of labor,

Josh Biliingl on tlmTho Amerlcuzeulp.

Lulu Lulu-r,

 

Dime School Sprl(-.s—-flpvnkern.

 

DIME DEBATER AND CHAIRMAN’S GUIDE, No. 11.

fl—nnu'rlxc nnrHrTv.
"I «(live uml unvfulnrh‘s,
Formnlmn hf,
('nnullmtinn of,
Bf-Lnul (If,
Rule! gf gun-rmnanl,
Loml ruin-s of unlwr,
lA-vul rnlun wf :lrlmh,
SIIirJQ‘l'Im fm dim HNSiUII-
H.» mm T0 mznnl.
\‘\' h\' xln-rc are few gun-d
dwhnh-rl,
l’n-n-qui-nrn to outer-
lvnl nuvcusn
Thu lugn' ul' dv-hnte,
The rhe-luricnhivlmw,
Mninle In nlmvrve,
Tln- prnllminury pro-

 

mm,
Order u! 1h. Argumant

Smnnmry.

lll.~-|’NA!HMIN'I(HVIDK

(Irnlnmr) llll‘t‘llilK1 und
Asarnlhlin,

Tlrv urgvinimliun

I'rmoannzzn,
The “ qu-sli--n."

iz Cun ln- {nun-(l,
Thr “(tn-Milli," Huw

Ln bu L'mmi it-reni.
Riuhln w Hm Hour,

How

uguinal lherhnir,
(‘nlling yum ulnl nnya,
lnu-rrumlngu wto,
()rgnnizntinn hf Deli)»
eruliw- “lltlil'l, (‘nn-
w-nLlunu, Annunl Ul’
Gunerul Anumhliel,

 

luff'ninury organiza-
i linn,

l

l

|

l‘rrmunenl org-hin-
lillll‘
TiH‘ urller of lumineus,

i wrs, .10.,

in uulm‘llinry nmtlnnn,

l'l'ln- (Inn: urnlvr of con.

' Hirlvnngqneninnl,
(‘nlnvnilleem '

l ()hjeru M A committal!

Right: of u an-nker “J'I‘lneir puwcrl,

Huw nnmrd,
When nm (0‘5",
mm: of order and pro-
: crdure.
»Hnw tn rupnrt,
j'l'he wnnnince of file
whole,

DIME EXHIBITION SPEAKER, No.

The nrnlnr of the day,

Tu hfi-knll‘ll (‘hinom

3hr lunli we luvs,

Jinn l'lllnlsme,

H1 in.» to ymnnelf,

Ah >in'r n-plv.

A l‘it'M lur Innlrn,

'1 hr Slunlshum I! iunti-
tic mu-lvly,

Frrv llnlv.

huh ‘n nixrn ruler.

Tim I'llldrfi uf unu :nan
qurr,

Thr Irmly of pence
(l‘ 4).

The rriziml moment,
The «ML and the v‘nt.

l.—r0vm.ut Axn mu-
IlATIC oun’un.

Funny lluumlly'n ball,

Trupirn nncongeniul Io
grentnem,

Lin- lnr unlnelhlng,

Civil and rolizinul lib-
el ly,

Be. null reviuw o! the
urnnd urlny,

D‘ «hum-«2:.- u! pnilliCI,

'1 lm urn it. rulnnwner,

Cl‘nrn’ler and [ChiOVO‘
hwnl,

' l run‘l.”

“ it might have been,"

Don't
wuon down,

milm I umn‘

Ia there any money in
il !

Arr. W11 a nation!
Surinl M‘it'llt‘l‘.
lnllnvnrvu uf liln-rty,
The [mlrint'a rhnivc,
'l'ln' right nl'tln' lH'Up'.’
<'l‘h.~ 1'h-Wllillu glory.
Tin- "Uillllimill'

\\ hu-n ynn'lr viuwh,
“'hnl linglunrl humlnno
The It “1‘ nvulrnlity,
' 'hc .nul ling,

Uur lr-ne future,
Jame,
o Ici-

 

   

(inns-lull..-
All hull!
Enan iputiun

r

(In law-ping m. It,

The treasure of the
(Men,

Kw]. moi,

Tin,- precinul freight,

A nkeu'h,

’l'ln- nwvrd the true Ir-

 

hirer,
Arlalovrncy,
' Hnrun Grlnulklu’l
i .lculh,

|()h.-.l Sulpkinn,

‘ A (ulvulrnphu,
('hn-rrfuilleu,
Monntuinl,

I'm. hm lay of «t V

)linMrA-i,

‘ Tln- unlucky luvs-n.

DIME LUDICROUS

.‘mn'inu,
I‘mlwr.
.e l‘lminu Year

Thu \l1ni:n"n llvllumle,
Tln- ilwn S. mlrhw,
Ann and (hr Violinilt.
Virvv‘uf Murrlml Life.
Burln-lurl‘uml Flinn.
Jon'u Turkey,

A HurduheH Sermon
My Fin". Knlfa,

Der lwldu-rv Dick“,
A Cwul-Bu lul,

   

W-mmn‘l nghn,
\Vlmt'n lhu \lulmr,
MN. Jum-a' l‘irnw,

Du lu'num-V

'l'nuu-h hf ll‘e thlinm,
llluuiied \'nn.\'nm>1.ie,
Mull Against Tubuco,
Till-nun. “my.
_ Hng (h-ninwu,
l My FirnH'iunr,
f 'l‘urriblv 'l"-mln,
l Silver Wmlnling,
I‘Yuhohiuhun,

  

The apirlt of forglvo-

nous,
Alum-sly nnd love,
M: unty
Snug M! lnl-nr,
Muhifv l destiny,
lit-l il nlunvl
Iiimw-nccllwl unllllillc
(original),
Mou Muller
llnnl Hrrixnmn,
\‘l'hui h lrnc lmppinru,
The lrinh of it. A par-
mu,
\\‘h:|l

After

we we in the

I!
“'hntl “‘ia‘il,

Tin- :Irvnd Michel, 
(‘lvil m-rvin- refurm, '
Tln- Hue. gentlenmu, i
The lmgic lm. ‘

 

[In—RABBIT“ SCHOOL ‘
URAI'OI.
A cry {or life,
Th» nnblvulh,
IGnnrlell |Ivu|,
' A gmul life. [
'l‘u whum lhall we
give lmnlu' l
Run-lull n. ‘
Never 1.) ud. |
Thu hihlg, j
(‘hrinnnnity cur bul-l
mark. i

 

(v. A luvlnrc, 1

‘ Minnellnneoul.

iTn ntnwnt of putllluI-l.
Tin- dw-nrnni of drunk

‘Hmls in u rhnlnnnn.

i |\'.- muunua.

Urdur ul hurinou untl r (‘mmhlvringrrpnrudmv ‘ Drum-q in full:

Which in the. arr-Moll
hum-fit In his cmqur’

—xhe WMYTlInY, uum
mun, ‘ r yw-l!

Damien ln brief.

In the n-mllng 0

works of lictiun wb

continuum”

II. Are l-wyt-rsn beno
m m a curse to lo
tlaty I

V.-qL‘nTA'rlONI An
PUB-Alli.
Latin.

12.

Good mlnnan. A hon

.—

e r,
A bullud 0! [Ah Erin.

Sull'rnm (award :1-
' trial),
In th» Cunfullln rm

play-d out

A rlerw of the aim:-
Hun.

Lillie Brew-hen,

“um i Dunderbecl'l
wmhling.

IA victim of tho hlo’)

 

i m- xv,
l Story nf the lwlnl,
A ('uni in thv note,

l My uncle Adolpr

DIME SCHOOL SPEAKER, No. 18.

The mm! of the hour,

'l‘hr midnight truth.

The ln-llvr View

Du thy limo—J. 2Q wot’

.lrsua forever.

The hvur‘

The wnrlll,

Brnnllfnl thought,

A pirlure of life,

Be lrue $0 yuan.“
young mun.

Time in I muting,

'l‘lm Fowl-l of autumn,

5pm.; nut Lxunhly,

('nnruge,

The eternal hymn,

Live {nr gnnd,

The nileulclty.

SPEAKER, No. 14.

EITnIuvky, ‘
lQHm-r Pu-lplo
‘lMin: ()lw‘u
Hy , n Ilnlvn,

'l'hv Sinunlur ~\lun, ‘
'I'hurlh of July ()rlllnn,
Il('hm-r l'p, l
Srif-llslwln, 1
Hut‘ku'hvu! Cakes, I
'l‘wuin'n Lillla Buy,

A \l'unl \Vilh Ynu,

iA (Thanh-«I Lunn-nt.
i'fhe Cundy-l'nllinz.

’Nnu on“,

 

Combs-imam,

0n (‘nunlngl

Un Laughing,

The Tunnel “0y,

On “'in am | Kiwi,
The “cult-r,

"he (‘rimillml LnW' ,
linllml of Mnlildu cu-
“up-r

I'm, lhillml nf . Mn.

“and m Mahatma
A Moving .S-mmm.

 

    

 

 

 

  
  
  
   
    
  
   
    

      

lHanL
dw‘»atq
Hr“-
m

w1xtwsl

411217,
winteo

g o
to b

30:16
7 IO

‘lD

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A MARVEL OF BEAUTY!

fl MW Series by the New flrt/

THE ILLUMINATED DIME

POCKET NOVELS !

Comprising the best works only of the most popular living writers in the field
of American Romance. Each issue a complete novel, with illuminated cover,
rivaling in efl‘ect the popular chromo,

And yet Sold at the Standard Price--Ten Cents!
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Distunclng all rivalry. equally in the beauty of the books and their intrinsic
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NOW READY, AND IN PRESS.

l — llawkeye Harry, the Young Trapper Ranger. By Oil
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2 — Dead Shot; or, The \Vhlte Vulture. A Romance of the
Yellowstone. lly Albert W. Aiken. Rendy.

3 — The Boy Miners; or, The Enchanted Island. A Tale
of the Mohave Country. By litiwurtl S. Ellis. lieudy.

4— Blue Dick; or, The Yellow Chief’s Vengeance. A
Romance of the Rocky Monnmi: 9. By Capt. Mayne Reid. Ready.

5 — Nat \Volfe; or, The Gold Hunters. A Romance of Pike’s
Peuk and Low York. lly Mrs. .\l. V. Victor. Ready.

6 — The “’hlte Trucker; or, The Panther of the Plains.
By the author of “ The Buy Miners." it! :Niy.

7—'l‘he Outlaw”! “’lt'ex or, The Valley Ranche. A Tale
oi" (‘ulilornin Lite. liy Mrs. Ann S. Stephens. Ready.

8 —— The Tall Trapper; or, The Flower of the Blackfeet.
By Albert W. Aiken. Really.

9— Lightning Jo, the Terror of the Santa Fe Trail. By
Capt. J. F. C. Adams. Ready

10 The Island Pirate. A True of the Mississippi. By Capt. Mayne
Rt'ltl. Ready

ll—The Boy Ranger; or, The Heiress of the Golden
Horn. By 011 (,‘ooxnes. lieudy Nov. 24th.

No. 12— Bess, the Trapper. A Tale of the Far South-west. By the au-

thor of “Boy Miners.‘ “White Tracker.“ etc. Ready Dec. ch.

[35" For sale by all newsdettlers: or St‘llt, post—paid, to any . Ii
dress on receipt of price ten cents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
98 William Street. New York