, n‘. 

Poaketlszosrles BEA'DIJESS ’lllmmud;‘

0. Ten Conn.

 

 

SPECTEB RIDERS
 on.

THE FORT MYSTERY

BY GEORGE GLEASON.

NEW YORK:

BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS. ‘
oa WILLIAI STREET.

 

In. A} According to Act of Congress, in the year nu, by
BEADLE AND ADAMS.
II the ofllu o! the Libnmn of Congress, at Wuhingtol.

 

    

  

THE SPEOTER RIDERS; .

CHAPTER I.
cmsnn'ro mum.

THERE is a thrilling excitement in a race on the open
prairie at any time; but when the race occurs in the dead
hour of night, and the stakes are a human life, the excite-
ment is doubly intense. , I

It was a wild March night There was a moon in the
sky, but the black scudding clouds sailed across its disk every
moment, making checkers of light, and shadow on the
prairie below. A high wind, coming out of the lawn-
ing west, swept‘with unrestrained fury to the eastward,
,whistling gleefully as it rushed through leafless groves, and
, making unearthly noises as it hovered round solitary domi-
oils of men and beasts. .

Caught up by the driving winds, and borne for miles
along its course, came the swift clatter of horses' hoofs, faint
yet distinct.

The rider—or riders, for there evidently were more than
one—seemed putting their animals to the test. At a dan-
gerous rate they dashed through moonlight and darkness, as
if driven irresistibly before the furious gale. Who could
they be? And what could be the cause of this reckless, head-
..long race, at such a time and place?

The pounding of hoofs on the hard turf grew louder and
louder.

Now they come in sight. What} only one horseman?
Only one appears, but there are others behind him, distinctly
heard yet still invisible. At this moment the moon is shin-
ing unobscured. Its tempered light falls upon the leading
‘ horseman, and discloses him to our view. He is a young
’ man, not over twenty-five years of age, handsomely formed,

 
  

10 m IPECTER amuse.

and by no means ill-looking in the face; he is mounteu upon '

a. powerful, snow-white charger, his body leaning forward
over the proudly-arched neck, his head half turned, and his
eyes gazing intently over his shoulder.

Clad in hunter’s garb, a rifle rests across the pomrnel of
his saddle, which he clutches tightly with one hand, while
the other holds the reins.

‘ The pursuers were probably Indians, although, from any
mind that (mine from them, it was not plain that they were
such. They uttered no whoop nor cry—in fact, made no
noise whatever. They seemed hushed into silence by their
anger intentuess, as they followed close in the white man‘s
rear. He could see them only at intervals, when the clouds
overhead were thinnest, and then just plainly enough to be
certain that. the number of his pursuers were three.

“ Courvge, brave Cherokee l" murmured the young hunter,
patting the smooth, snowy neck of his steed. “Courage,
my noble fellow, and we'll leave the red devils far behind.

They are pressing us hard, but I have yet to find your equal.

in I! Hue.”

As if proud of his master’s praise, and determined to
merit it, the intelligent brute stretched out his beautiful
limbs, and shot forward with long, easy bounds, his nestrils'
diatendei, and his eyes flashing with defiance. The magni.
ficent plty of his powerful muscles, and the superb grace of
his movements, would have excited the admiration of any,
cm who could have seen him then.

On they thundered, swift as swallows on the wing, the

wind roaring behind them as it trying in vain to distance .

she racers.

“ I wish my ride was loaded," said the hunter to himself; '

“ I think I could reduce the number of my enemies to twv.
But I Was careless enough to leave it unloaded after sliOot.
ing that turkey. I wonder why they don’t bring me out of-
my saddle? I believe" they could do it, but I suppose they
want to capture me. Faster, Cherokee! They are strug-
gling desperatety to overtake us. Go! go! Show them
what you are made of.”

The noble animal did show what he was made of. can;

 

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sclous of his master’s peril, he seemed to strain eVer‘y new: _ '

   

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a in his behalf, and the distance between him; and his Pur-
‘ sucrs began to increase more rapidly than before.

“ Hal 'they will soon give up the chase now.”

In a few minutes the pursucrs were entirely out of‘ sight
butthe clattering hoof-strokes told that they had not relin’
qui'shed the chase. Oh they came, with unabated speed, and
yet they gave no whoop or yell, as evidence of ther eager-
ness or determination. .

But, just as the brave winner of the race was Carrying his
rider safely out of the danger into Which he had fallen—just
as his rider began to stroke his mane with affectionate pride,
and. tell him he had done nobly—the fleet-footed course!
stumbled and pitched headlong to the ground !

The young man felt himself flying swiftly through the-

air one moment; the next, he struck the earth with a vio-
lence that almost stunned him.

But he quickly sprung to his feet, though he felt that he
was severely bruised. It was very dark now; the thick,
black clouds shut out all light from above, and the wind was
blowing fiercely and steadily. The savages were still in hot
pursuit. Their hors‘es‘ boots were beating the earth as rap‘idly
as ever. In one minute they would be on the spot, and
then——

More alarmed now than he‘ had been before, the hunter

bent over his horse and struck him smartly with his open,

hand. .
“ Up, Cherokee! Rise! risel Quick l or I am lost! The
Indians are almost upon us. My God l is he dead ?”

No, he was not dead. He made one attempt to rise, but ,

sunk back again, and lay as motionless as a heap of snow.

' The race was over. The white steed was certt nly win-
ner, but now he must be stripped of his lanrels by L'eachcry.
. The young man glanced hurriedly around, It would be
folly to attempt to escape on foot, and, besides, he could not

3 think of leaving his faithful horse to fall into the lands of
the savages. He snatched up his rifle, but dropped it again

immediately.

' . ._ " It is empty,” he cried, stumping his foot. “ 5 Wise my

Museums lit leaving it unloaded! Hal the piste, Why

‘ have I not thought of them before?”

 

 

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19 m mama atone.

 

Hr bent down, and drew a brace of large pistols from the
holsttrof his saddle. Standing astride of his fallen horse,
and holding one of the weapons in each hand, he pointed
them at the approaching horsemen.

In a moment the pnrsuers were in sight. He saw them
looming up darkly before him, as they came dashing reck-
lessly on, their long robes flaunting in the wind.

There was not a second to lose. His, aim was deadly, a
his fingers pressed the triggers. Bang! went both the pistols
at once, and the double report rung out loud and startling.

For an instant there was a cessation of sounds. Then
there was a plunging and snorting of frightened horses, 3
shrill neigh of afl‘right, a confused pounding of hoofs, and
the terrified animals swerved to the right and galloped away;

But, just as they turned, the clouds overhead parted, and
the earth was flooded with the mellow moonlight, which
seemed even more brilliant than before. after the darkness.
At the very moment the light burst forth, the pursuers were
in the act of changing their course, and were sweeping
round directly in front of the hunter’s eyes;

He staggered back with a cry of amazement and terror.
The pistols dropped from his hands, the pallor of death over-
spread his face, and the blood seemed turning to ice in his
veins. God of heaven! what was this he saw? ‘

There were three horses, wild-looking and steaming with
perspiration, and upon the back of every horse sat a human
skeleton, partially concealed by a long white sheet flying out
behind, each skeleton holdiug the reins, and sitting erect likn

a living man!

5

 

C H A P T E R I I.
OLD ADAM emu. ,
LONG before the young man recovered from his surprise

and horror, the ghastly spectacle had vanished, and yet 1.. .

stood there, gazing with dilated eyes at the darkness which
had swallowed it up. ‘ ~

  

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/

mun AND FACT. 13

Human skeletons on horseback] How could he believe
it, even after seeing them? It would be simply impossible

'to describe the sensations that were his at that moment—tho

icy chills creeping over him; the difiiculty he experienced in
breathing; the momentary suspension, we might almost say,
of life. He had never before heard of such a‘thing. What
Could it mean? Had he really seen the awful phenomenon?
or was it some wild phantasy of a disordered brain, caused
by the shock of his recent t'all ? Hardly the latter, he thought,
for in the fall his head had entirely escaped, and his brain
was perfectly clear. There was not the slightest tinge of su-
perstition in his nature, but it must be confessed that at this
moment, while under the influence of excitement occasioned
by the horrible apparition, he believed those skeletons were
movad by the agency of spirits. rHow else could he account
for their strange appearance at such a time and place, and in
so wonderful a manner? But when he could no longer hear
the sound of the retreating horses, and the first shock of as-
tonishment and horror was over, he banished all superstitious
ideas resolutely, notwithstanding the incxplicability of the
mystery.

“ I saw it,” he mused, “ that much is certain, and I co'nld
take my oath that it is no freak of the imagination. But the
fact that I am mystified is no assurance that it can not be
explained.”

“ Hello, tharl Is that you, Edward Westlake 1’"

The young man wheeled round, and stood on the defen-

" live.

There, in the moonlight, sitting on the back of an old raw-
boned mare, was a man, old and rawboned too, though evi-

'dently good for many more years of activity. His hair and

heard were gray, his face rugged and weatherbeaten, his eyes
bright and piercing as an eagle’s, his figure lank and slightly
crooked, and his left hand minus a thumb. A white scar
running diagonally across his forehead, extended from the
roots of his hair to his right eyebrow; his nose was disfig.

‘ured, by a large hairy mole, which occupied one side of it

hear the end; along yellow tooth, 0r-snag, was perpetually

 . Winkle, protruding over his lower lip whenever he closed his
my mouth ; and he had a way of holding his head constantly on

 

<WrMA‘u-i-U.

14 mm mm. Itmnns.
one side, like an artist standing off to view his work, He
wore an outfit of dirty buck-skin, the leggins fitting almost
as tight as the skin, and looking very much as though they
had never been taken off since the day they had been put on,
which, undoubtedly, was at no recent date.

“Blow me ef it ain’t Edward Westlake i" added the 01d
hunter, when the other turned toward him.

“ Adam Griff, as surely as I live i" returned the young man;
grasping his hand and giving it a hearty shake.

. “ You’re ’bout right thar, youngster, at you never war afore,"
said the old individual, in his rough, draw]ng voice. “ I’m
Adam Grifi‘, sure‘s shootin’, and hain’t been nobody else fur
sixty years and up‘a'rds." ‘ ‘

“ And what are you doing here ?”

“ Now that ar’ is jist what I war on the p’int of axin’ you.
I’m not doin’ nothin‘; you have been, I calc’late."
Edward Westlake picked up his rifle and pistols in silence.

“ I war squattin‘ over yender in a holler," continued Adam .

Grifi‘, “ and I was waked up by the noise of gallopin’ houses.

v I jumped onto old Sarah Jane's back then, and when I heerd’

that tremendous shot, which war like half a dozen rifles goiu’
01? to onc’t, I started this way. Sunkthin’ out of the usual
course of events must have happened, youngster, ’cause I rid
right up ’thout ’tractin’ yer attention, and I never knowed
you to be so keerless afore.” '

“ Yes, something extraordinary has occurred.”

“ I’d ’a' swore to it. Whar’s yer hoss ?"

“Why, don’t you see him ? He is lying here on the
ground.” '

“ Everlastin’ thunder! that ain’t Cherokee?

“ It is.”

"Yer don't mean to say he‘s dead ?”

“ I hope he isn‘t, but I fear he is hurt.
gallop when he stumbled and fell.
will you give me your assistance?”

“ Will I t” The request was no sooner made than one of
Adam. Grifi‘s long, dangling legs beat the air, as he swung it
over his mate’s neck and slid to the ground.

“ I hope he's not gone under,’cause I‘ll sw'ar right straight
up an? down that ain’t a better boss on the plains.” ~

He isn’t able to rise.

.4

He was on a full , \_

  
 

 
   

 

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an.

 

 

  

 

 

m omen am. 15

“ Well, he isn’t dead,” said the 'young man, bending over
the prostrate animal. “ It remains to be seen whether he is
hurt severely or not.”

To their joy and surprise, however, they discovered that
,the horse had sustained no injury, except a very slight cut
on one knee. His fall had been caused by the long larint
'which his master invariably carried, one end of which had
)ecome disengaged from the saddle-bow and dropped to the
ground. His legs becoming entangled in this, he had been
_ . brought low at the very moment he was receiving his inas-
 ' ter's praise,“ winner of the race.

s/ The lariat was quickly removad from his limbs, and the
proud steed was soon on his feet again.

“ There,” said Edward Westlake, fondly patting the arched
neck. “ My brave Cherokee is himself once more."

“ See hyur, Edward, I want to know what in all creation
made you ' ride so fast 1’” the trapper demanded, passing his
hand over the smooth coat of the steaming horse. “ Injuns

, been arter you 1’"
“ No,” was the laconic response.

A. .,

 “ What then? Thar was more hosses nor your‘n on the
.‘ fl ranipage, ’r'anse I heard ’em.”
 ' “ I was pursued, but not by Indians.”
A3.” ,V “ Yer don’t tell me so 1’ War they pale-faces l”
.1?er -, “ Na”

“ Hey? Warn’t neither red-skins nor pale-faces? That
tramps me, hanged e1 it don’t. Darn it, Edward, what sort
of fellers did you have on yer trail,“ they was neither white
 . > nor red 1‘" ‘

’ Edward shuddered and turned away

 

 

f‘i “ You would not believe me if I should tell you," he mint
7' (cred, the moonlight showing that he was quite pale and
 K' ‘ nervous. ‘
‘ A strange expression appeared on the rugged face of the old
flapper-
 He took a step forward, and gave his companion a keen,
Insulting look.

’fv «'1 understand you, my hay," said he. with emphasis, as he
- plaid one of his brawny hands on Edward‘s shoulder. “I
mderstand you now. You’ve we‘d the Specter Riders ./"'

 

4....LS...‘ " .l

 

 

    

THE SPECTER RIDERS.

Young Westlake started violently, and stared at the speaks!
In astonishment.

“ How know you that?" he asked, quickly.

“ I see it in yer face," was the reply.

“ And did you ever see these skeleton’s '1’"

“ See’d ’em yesterday, for the fust time.
daylight, but they was half a mile away, and I didn‘t keel-
‘bout gittin' nearer." ‘

“ Did you ever hear of them before i"

“ Never did.”

The young hunter was perplexed.
tacle had not been presented to other eyes than his own, he
thought he might have arrived at the conclusion, eventually,
that he had been deceived by a momentary disorder of the in. a
But, as it was, he could think no more of discarding
the evidence of his senses.

“ It is a very singular phenomenon,” he said, musingly. “ I
never heard any thing so strange.” .

“ This beaver never did, that’s sartin,” said Adam Grifi‘.

“ What do you think they are, Adam l"

" Why, bless yer gizzard, they're'spem‘ta, in course i”

“ Bah l” returned the other, disdainfully ; “ I do not believe
Preposterous 1"

Do you think they’re human
bein’s riding round the kentry, with no flesh on that

It was in broad

If the startling spec-

they are spirits. .
“ You're green, youngster.

“ Of course not. It is quite evident that there is no life,
either earthly or spiritual, in those naked bones.”

The old hunter broke into a low laugh, revealing the soli-
tary snag to its roots.

“ Sometimes I think you’re powerful cute,” said he, “ but
['11 be shot if you ain’t greener’n hammered elm, arter all!
E! thar‘s no life in them bones, how do they set up on the
horses so straight, and ride about jist like livin‘ men ?"

I do not pretend to understand it, but I

J

“I can not tell.

think there is no supernatural agency in the afl‘air."

“ Thar’s jist whar we difi‘er. I think thar is. Ef the Spec-
ter Riders ain’t sperrits, they ain’t nothin‘.
sold of you once’t. an

d I‘ll but you‘ll have your peepers’

  

 

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KORE MYSTERY.

“You are not afraid of them, Adam ?" '

“ Thar’s no mortal ever lived that old Adam Grifi' ’ud show
the white feather to, but hyur‘s what don’t want a great deal
to do with them as don’t purtend to be mortal.”

“You believe in ghosts, then ?"

At this the old borderer seemed to hesitate, as if unea-
tain whether to answer evasively, or make a confession.
\ “ You believe in ghosts?" repeated his companion.

“ Wal, Edward, maybe 1 do," he replied.

Edward smiled.

“ I believe you said you first saw these mysterious horse-

, men, yesterday 1'" he inquired, after a pause.

“ That’s what I said."

‘ “ And had never heard of them before 1’”

“ J ist so.”

“Have you told anybody about it i”

“ Sartin. Went right to the fort with the story.”

“How did they receive it t”

-“ Wal, they knows I ain’t in the habit of lyin’, so you may
stake yer ha’r that it made consid’able excitement",

“Did you find any one that had seen the specters t"

“ Nary one. The story war new to all that heerd it."

“Their advent in this neighborhood must be quite re-
cent.“

There was silence for some minutes after this. Then Ed-
ward Westlake spoke again.

“ When did you leave Fort Binkley ‘1’" he asked.

“ This mornin’," returned the trapper. “ Been tryin’ the
hull day to git another squint at them spooks, but didn’t git
it. Goiu’ to start back in the mornin'.”

“Goodl We will go together. How did you leave the
people? How are old Colonel Howarth and—and—daugh-
ter i’” '

“ The kurnel are the same old kuruel cl’ar through, and as
fur Marian—wal, thar’s no change in her, onless she’s got
purticr.”

A soft flush dyed the tanned check of the stalwart young

' hunter.

I “ I will see her tomorrow," he murmured, to himself, and
then added, aloud: “ By the way, hast Dean Potter turned up

A

 

 

THE BPECTEB 811mm. ‘

yet. 2 or, has any trace of him been discovered in my ob-
sence 1‘"

“ Nat-y trace," answered Grifi‘ ; “ but thnr’s more bad news.
Since you went away two other fellch have been missin’.
They sloped in the same onsartin way that Potter did.”

“ Two other fellows disappeared !" exclaimed Westlske, in
astonishment. “ Who are they ‘2"

“ Simon Dawes, and Joe Crnmpton."

“ And the manner of their disappearance is veiled in mys-i

tery,just as Dean Potter’s is P"

“ Exactly. Nobody kin tell a word about 'em—nobody
knows whar to look for ’em—nohudy knows whether they
,went. of that own accord, or somebody else's accord.”

“ It is Very strange. When will wonders cease ?"

We will not follow them further in their conversation.
Sumce it to say that they stood there for some time longer,
talking principally upon subjects which we prefer to inn-o.
duce at. a later period of our narrative; after which the two
hunters found a spot partially sheltered from the driving
wind, and hid them down to sleep.

0 H A P T E R I I I.
sonouox, THE mum nwsnv.

Fon'r Bur.me was one of those frontier posts which the
United States Government has scattered over the broad. pm.
rtes lying west of the Mississippi. In its construction, this
fort was not different. from the majority of those to be found
upon the western border—--with its stout pickets, its wooden
buttons, its ditch surrounding all, and its lonpholes for mus.
ketry. Inside were the block-houses and soldiers’ quarters,
'and other buildings used for the protection of stores: and,
high above the tallest structure, the beautiful flag of Our coun-
try unfurled its glorious stripes and stars, and floated proudiy
over the fort.

Several  cannon were planted in the rude bastiongud

 

    

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' these, in addition to other advantages of strength and loca-

tion. made it a formidable object to hostile Indians.

The garrison consisted of about two hundred men, and tho
oflicer in command was one Colonel Howarth, a sturdy old
soldier who bore the scars of many battles, and who was as
gentle and tender-hearted ln peace as he was brave and in-
vincible in war. He was invariably liked as soon as he
was met, and, perhaps, a man more worthy in every respect,
never filled an important position in Uncle Sam’s service.

Colonel Howarth had a daughter, who lived with him at
the fort—a modest, lovely girl. who had but recently arrived
at the age of eighteen years, and who was the pride and pet
of the garrison. Her name was Marian. Her beauty was
of a type universally admired, made up of lips like ripe
cherries, complexion clear and slightly olive-tinted, features
faultlesst and delicately cut, hair wavy, luxuriant and dark
as a Gipsy’s, with lustrous eyes that were changeable in hue,
at one time gray, and at another intensely black.

It was the day succeeding the night whose events we have
just described, and a day so mild and pleasant that it seem-
ed to belong to the month of May instead of March. The

beautiful scenery around Fort Binkley was clad in a sheen

of golden sunshine, and the few birds who were thus early
welcoming the approach of spring, pealed forth their merry
carols from tree and bush.

Early in the afternoon, Marian Howarth went out for a
walk, as was her custom when the weather was propitious.
With her dark, flowing hair forming a frame round her
sunny, dimpled mesa-with her eyes sparkling like diamonds,
and her broadbrimmed hat casting a gentle shade over her
features—aha looked more like a Gipsy now than ever, trip-
ping airily along the winding prairie-path, which she always
followed in her rambles. ~

Presently she turned the corner of a huge blufl‘ that rose
abruptly from the plain. In another minute the fort was
hidden from view, by the long ledges of rock which she
had placed between it and herself. 'Here was the end of her
walk. ‘
_ With a promptness that betrayed a previous knowledge
of its existence, she found a pretty, retired neck, and there

   

 

  

 

'rrm SPECTEB RIDERS»

sat down to rest, and muse, and view the romantic scenery
around her. She pushed back her hat, and allowed the
soft breeze to toy with her silken tresses, while her eyes grew
more and more dreamy in their gaze as she gradually lost
herself in the enchantment of a delightful reverie. A half.
hour passed thus, and then, with a deep-drawn sigh, she
came out of the bright realms of fairy-land, to find herself
(nee more enshrouded by the cold realities of a less fantastic
world.

'After glancing about, in a bewildered sort of a manner,
like one waking from ‘a dream, she broke into a merry, rip.
pling laugh.

“ How my imagination runs away with me 1” she said,
to herself. “I never sit down here but my fancy begins
to construct castles in the air, and I wander amid fairy
bowers, charmed into sweet contentment by the fancied
scene around me. Ha! ha! ha! am I in love? A)“ am 1;”
She held out her little left hand, and looked hlushingly at
the circlet of gold which sparkled on the fore-tinge]; u Yes,
Yes; I am in love,” she murmured, “and I care not if the
whole world knows it; for who can say my afi'ecticns have
been misplaced? His mother gave him this ring, on her
death-bed, and no power on earth can induce me to violate
the sacred vows it seals. No! no! I’ll be true to him for.
ever i” *
She paused, and picked up a small piece of soapstone,
fragments of which were lying profusely around. Wm,
this she began to mark something on the smooth face of the
rock beside her. At first she used it carelessly and media-Di.
cally, but soon her whole attention became engrossed in her
work, and her eyes kindled with interest as she formed chm.
-tcter.after character with skill and precision.

Presently she stopped. blushed deeply, and cast the frag.

ment of stone away. But she had formed a name on the '

side of the rock, and that name was EDWARD Wnsrmxn.

' “ There is the name of my love,” she whispered, as if im-
parting a secret to some one; “ and a nobler, truer-hearted
’man never lived. Let—me—see; it has been just a fort-
night since he. went away, and he told me at parting that he
would be back in that time. ‘It seems an age since I saw

    

 
   

an no or SATAN. :1

him last. Dear, dear! I wish father would send some one
else on these dangerous missions to the Indian tribes. But
then, the selection of Edward on nearly every occasion of
this kind, reflects much credit upon his bravery and skill."

Just as the girl ceased speaking, she started and looked
quickly around. She had heard a sound, so low as to he
deceptive, and she could neither guess whence it came in":
what had caused it. In a moment she heard it again. Thi-
time she was prepared for it, and knew that it came from
some point above her. She cast her eyes upward. What
she saw Was a brown, half-clad figure, clamhering nimth
down the rocks from the summit of the ledge. It was di-
rectly over her, and rapidly nearing the spot where she was
sitting.

At first she was inclined to be frightened, as she saw that
the approaching figure was that of an Indian. But a second
look relieved her of her uneasiness, for in it she recognized
the intruder. It was a little, ugly, dwarfish, weazen-faced
Indian, whom she had often seen lounging about the fort,
and who was known among the whites by the Christian ap-
pellation of Solomon. Little attention was paid to him by
the soldiers, except at times when they wanted to make use
of him, and then he showed himself ever ready to work,
provided he received a remuneration for his services.

As nothing was to be feared from this person, Marian
Howath did not move.

The agile dwarf leaped from the rocks above, and struck
the ground a few feet in front of her.

She supposed he would walk away then, and leave her
to resume the train of thoughts he had caused her to drop.
But, instead of that, he stopped there. folded his arms across
his breast, and stood looking at her in silence. She glanced
up at him indignantly, but the words that were on her tongue
seemed to freeze in her mouth, as her eyes met his. The
black, bead-like orbs of the Indian were fastened upon her
with a look of demoniau triumph, and glittering like those
of a serpent. His dark, weazen face fairly gleamed with
an expression of greedincss and exultation, and his whole

V'bearing was mat of one who sees a favorable consummation
(of a darling scheme. His stunted body was heat forward,

r-~ ‘

 

 

 

22 m aroma 3mm

giving him the appearance of a. wild beast preparing to
spring upon its prey.

In surprise and alarm Marian receded involuntarily.

“ Ugh I” grunted the savage; “ white maiden all alone i”

“ Yes," she replied ; “ I am alone, and wish to remain
so." ‘

“ White maiden beautiful," continued the savage, without
moving. “ Much nice belie—smooth cheek—red lip. Ugh!
Solomon like de kurnel's daughter-great like."

This declaration and the look that accompanied it, caused
Marian some uneasiness; but she determined to concea1 the
fact from him as long as possible.

“ Solomon will please go away," she snid,°fl1mly. “ I pre.
fer to be alone."

“ T'ink lots of kumel’s daughter—can’t 193"." grinned ihe
litile wretch, as he began to rub his shriveled hands together.
“ I command you to leave l" exclaimed the 8m, angrily.

“ No like command. Not go."

“ I will report on you, and father will have you pun.
ished.” ‘

“Waghl kurnel nebber know ’bout it. You nebber tell
him. You nebber see him ag’in l"

“ Never see him again 1 Solomon, I fear You are drunk."

" No drink a drop. No hub rum. Much. awful sober.”

Marian was perplexed.

“ Why are you here 1’" she demanded.

" Foller you," was the cool response.

“ And why did you follow me i”

“ Find out soon enough. Goln’ t0 08")" Y0“ 03'- Kurnel’l
daughter nebber go back to fort. She my capiive- GO with.
'ne—go ’way off with me."

Marian began to grow pale. There could be no doubt tha-
nc' really meant to carry her awayl What could she do? B.
was certainly equal to the task, for, though small or stature,
he was muscular in the extreme:

And Why did he wish to do this? Before to-day he had
never appeared tornotice her, and she thought him perfecin
hafnium» I8, indeed. he had hitherto proved to he.

" Why do you wish to take me away from my home and
father 1’” she asked. ,“ I never knew you were so wicked. I

  
 
 
  
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     

 

 

 
 

A- semi: tron mm. 28

“(Ought you Were a good man, who never harmed helpless
women.”

This apparently had some effect upon- the Indian. He
hesitated, and was clearly confused for some moments ; then
he said:

“ Solomon no wicked.
hire him to do it.”

“ Another man hires you! In the name of Heaven, who I”

“ Much bad man—-pnle-face.”

“ Oh, God! what does all this mean? Are you speaking
the truth? Tell me the name of this man.”

“ He name is Turk Redhy."

“ TurkRedby I" gasped Marian.

She sunk back, pale and trembling, as she repeated that
name, and sat there staring at the dwarf, unable to utter an-
other word.

Now was the Indian’s time. He saw how Weak and help-
less she was rendered by the information he had given her,
and recognized it as the moment for action.

Like a tiger he leaped forward. With his right hand he
grasped both of her wrists, and held them like a vise, while
he threw his left around her waist; and in this manner he
began to drag her away from the spot.

He dc dis for gold, Udder man

CHAPTER IV.
A nesn TO THE mesons.

MARIAN foundher voice in a twinkling.
“ Help! help! help i” she screamed, us she made a feeble
effort to free her hands. “Help! oh, help I”

The Indian stopped and scowled upon her.
“ Mustn‘l scream I” he hissed, with his mouth close to her

ear. “ N a scream ag’in. Me hill—me chop head open 1”

“ Help] help! help I" cried the girl, without heeding the
threat, and her voice rung Out loud and clear.

V’l'he Indian shook her angrily. ‘

 

_ Helm.” I  ii,

A . vfiugem.



 

 

 

   

    

“ Stop scream l" he commanded. “Nobody come. Mo}
put sumkin’ ober white maiden’s mouth, it she no he still. ’
At. that instant they both heard the clear ring of a horse's
hoofs on the rocky earth, accompanied by a hoarse shout from
some unseen person.
Then a powerful white steed darted into view like a flash
of lightning. There was another shout—the benutifulnnimul
halted as suddenly as he had appeared, and a young man
leaped from his back almost before he stopped.
“ Back, miseruble wretch l" thundered an imperative voice.
“ Unhand that girl, or by Heaven you die a. dog’s death I”
There was a quick blow, dealt by a heavy fist; a cry 0: g) ' "y,
afi‘right, and the savage fell as if he were shot. I ,
But he bounded to his feet again like India rubber, and
with a series of sharp yelps, in which fear, pain and anger
were combined, he darted out of sight like u hunted hare.
It was all over in a space of time so incredibly short that
the girl could scarcely realize that it had truly Gecurretl, until
a strong arm encircled her unresisting form, and she felt her ..
head resting upon the broad, manly bosom of her lover. ' >
“ Marian, darling l”
“ Dear Edward 1”
She looked up into his handsome, flushed face, and re.
ceived the tender kiss which he stooped to imprint on her ripe
red lips.
“ Oh, Edward 1 I am so glad you have come,” she said,
“ Indeed, my little girl, I am inclined to think my coming
was very opportune on this occasion," was the laughing rp.
sponse, as that rough brown hand gently smoothed hut-k 1.“:
disordered trusses.
“It was, truly,” she replied. “ You came just in time 0
have me from—from—" ‘
She paused, shuddered, and the blushes left her cheeks.
“ From what, love ?”
“ From tl horrible captivity—if nothing worse."
“Not so had as that, I hope,” he returned, cheerfully;
“ though I can not guess why that little imp should wish,
to molest you. I always thought he was a peaceahle sort
of a. fellow. But never mind ; the st-oumlrel shall be pun.
{shed if he has the audacity to return tn-Ilw in“ after thin.

  

  

 

TIMELY AID.

Ah! I had entirely forgotten that I was accompanied by
Adam Grid.”

Marian looked quickly around, and the first thing she saw
was the old trapper, sitting on the back of his .‘awboned
hare, looking at them with calm indifference, with his head
m one side.

“ I kinder thought I’d slipped yer re-collect," said he, with

'tiis low laugh, in which his ugly tooth was laid bare. “ Least-

wise, yer didn’t seem to pay much ’tention to me.”

As he said this he threw one of his long legs over the
animal’s neck, and dropped to the ground.

“We heerd you screechin’ as we come along,” he con-
tinued, walking up to the young couple with long, awkward
strides, and looking at the girl as he spoke. “We heerd
you screechin’ fur help, and the youngster thar he shot
ahead like a streak of greased lightnin’, leavin’ me and old
Sarah Jane behind."

“Not far behind, however,” remarked Edward.

“ Wal, not fur, that's a fact,” admitted the scout. “ Sarah
Jane ain’t the slowest sort when she gets a-goin’, though I’ll
sw’ar she’s see’d her best days. I’ve bet on her many a time

.and allus won—but not inside the last eight yearn. I say,

little ’un, war' that pesky red-skin trying to carry you off ‘2”

“Yes,” she replied, “and he would certainly have suc-
ceeded, but for the timely interference of Edward.”

“ Cues his rotten hide! I’d like to know what he wanted
to do that fur? War‘n’t he drunk?" '

“ I am sure he was not.” I

Adam Grifl‘ looked perplexed.

“I never expected sich a thing of Solomon. He allul
{neared to be a right squar’ kind of a chap. Strikes me he

ought to try and behave hisself, ’cause he hain‘t got a friend '

on ’nrth ’xcept the pale-faces. He war turned out of the
tribevhe used to b’long to, and thar‘s not a Injun as wouldn’t
take his skulp as quick as they’d steal a beaver-trap. Thar’s
not one of ’em on his side." '

“ If that is the case.” said Westlake, “it is a mystery to

, me why he should wish to steal Marian away from her home."

'. “ I am able to enlighten you a little on that point,” said
Marian. “Solomon is avaricious, as you both know; it is

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 

 

 
       

 

M m enema RIDERS.

the glitter of gold that has worked upon his bad principles
in this affair.” '

“ Gold 1" echoed her lover, in surprise.

“ Certainly. He has been hired by another party to at-
tempt my capture."

“ How know you that l”

“He told me.”

“ Then,” cried Edward, striking the stock of his rifle on the
ground, “this affair is not yet settled. Tell me who the vil-

lain is that has dared to do this, and I’ll confront him be.

fore the sun sets 1”

“Not so fast, Edward; the person you speak of will not
be so easily found as you imagine." v

“ Who is he ‘9"

“ His name is Tom: Benny.”

It  ,”

At the mention of that name, the two men started backas
if they were struck, and both stared half-increduloust at the
girl.
Old Adam was the first to speak.

“ Do you mean that Y” he asked. ‘

“ I have just told you what the Indian told me," replied
Marian, quietly. “ I can tell you no more. When I re-
proaohml him for his villainous conduct, he confessed that it

was all for gold, and that the person who had bribed him ,

was Turk Redby.”

“ Can it be that that fiendish desperado is in these parts?" ‘

muttered Edward.

“ Must be,” rejoined the trapper. “ Ef he warn‘t in these
parts, I reckon he wouldn't be bribin' Solomon to enptur' the
gal fur hlm. Yas, the cuss have come back to this neighbor
hood, I make no doubt, jist as he promised when he went
away, but you may stake yer last shiner he's ’cuto' enough to
keep his mug under kiver. Ef he‘shows hisself now he‘ll
belynched, sure as shootin'. I s’pose Solomon didn't give
' you no clue as to what the chap mought be found, little ’un!”

“ None whatever.”

“ But we must tlnd him," declared E-iward. “ After that
parting threat with which he favored us, it strikes me that
none of us are safe while he is lurking in this vicinity.”

     

    

 

  

A “KING 0’ “LEVELS.

“ His case ought to be ’tended to, that’s ear-tin," said
Adam. “ But we’ll have to s‘arch fur him kinderon the sly,
30's he won’t know nothin’ ’bout what's going on.”

" That is true,” conceded the young mun; “therefore, the
fewer persons we take into our confidence, the better it will
be for our chances of success. I wonder what will occur
next i’” he added, with a smile. “ On my return from the
mountains—and before reaching home—I have rescued
Marian from the hands of an Indian, have learned that Turk
Redhy has come back, and have been told that two more men
are missing from the fort, to say nothing of my introduction
to those Specter Riders. Why, I'm almost prepared to find
the fort turned upside down, and the people all standing on
their heads.”

Marian broke into a merry peal of laughter.

“Edward. has Adam been storing your mind with non-
sense about horrible specter on horseback, which he imagines
he saw the other day i’" ‘

“Didn’t ‘magine nothin‘," spoke up the old scout. “I
see‘d them spooks t’other day jist as sartin as I‘m standin’
hyur. Haiu’t been stuflin’ the boy’s mind with nonsense,
nuther. Ha see'd ’em hisself, with his own two eyes, store
I met him."

The girl turned her gaze upon Edward.

4 “ Yes, Marian,” said he, in reply to her look of inquiry,
“ I did see the awful phenomenon which old Adam has told
you about.”

“ When i” _

“Last night. I not only saw the strange horsemen, but
was pursued by them several miles, on the prairie.”

“ Can it be possible? Are you sure you saw them plainly
enough to admit of no doubt as to what they were i’"

“Quite sure. They were close upon me when I saw them,
and the moon, bursting through a cloud. rendered the night
almost as light as day. There were three fleet~footed horses,
and upon the back of every horse sat a human skeleton.”

“ Adam,” said the girl, taking the trapper’s hand, “ pardon
me for what I said a minute ago. It was so wonderful that
I couldn‘t believe you had seen real skeletons on horseback,
though I couldn‘t guess how you had been so decanted

  
   
 
  
  
   
  
   
   
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
  
  
 
  
 
    
  
 

 

 

 
   

 

m SPECTEB RIDERS.

But, I believe it now, although I never heard of any thing
half so strange." - -

“ The truth will come to light sooner or later,” said
Edward, confidently. “ I am half-inclined to believe that the
missing men have withdrawn from sight of their own accord,
merely to create a sensation, and that they are practicing
a joke on the people of Fort Binkley with these Specter
Riders.”

Adam Grifl‘ shook his head.

“ Your views ain’t mine, by a long reach,” said he, in his
deep, drawling voice. “ I’ll tell you what my opinyin are:
I think thar‘s no joke consumed with the disappearance of
Dean Potter and the other tellers. This coon has somehow
got it into his noddle that the poor chaps war spirited away
by them some specters, and that more on us will vamose in
the some way, at we don't keep a skinned eye in our heads."

“ We’ll keep open eyes now, I think. But we have had no
dinner, and Lam hungry as a wolf. Let us go home. Here,
Marian; I want to walk a little, so you may ride Chero-
kee.”

She did not object, and he lifted her to the saddle as easily
as if she were an infant. Then he walked beside her, and in
this manner they returned to the fort, old Adam Grifi‘ and his
highly-prized Sarah Jane taking the lead.

0 H A P T E R V .
'rrm THREAT or A MONSTER.
' I! the reader will pardon a brief digression in this place,

.we will take the present opportunity of going back and gath-

ering up an event or two, which occurred some time prior to
the Opening chapters of this record, but which, nevertheless,
have an important bearing upon our story.

One year ago that spring, a stranger had arrived at Fort
Blnkley, and taken up his abode there.

He was a man of extraordinary personal appearance, colon. I

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
   
  
 
 
      
   

 

   
 
  
   
 

 

A "mean arms. as

~listed to attract attention wherever he went; but the looks

and remarks of others, however significadt, never seemed to
disturb him in the slightest degree. He was straight as an
arrow and strong as a bullock, measuring six feet; in hight,
and three and a half from shoulder to shoulder! His beard
was black as jet, and cropped short; his hair uncommonly
long for a man, and his eyes deep-set and piercing, with a
sinister expression constantly lurking in their inky depths.
He wore a black hunting-shirt, always open at the throat, high-
topped boots drawn on outside of his buck-skin breeches, and
a slouched hat shading his Coarse, brutal features. It was
frequently remarked that he looked more like an outlaw and
desperado than the peacezible adventurer he claimed to be;
but, notwithstanding general appearances had a tendency to
excite suspicion, that was by no means suflicient reason for
refusing him admittance to the fort.

This man gave his name as Turk Redby.

For one month after his arrival no one had cause to com‘
plain of his conduct. He formed few acquaintanCes, attended
to nobody‘s affairs but his own, and he did little else besides
hunting and fishing, by which means he supported himself.

: But at the end of that month the diflleulty began.

One morning, at an early hour, Marian Howarth mounted
her father‘s horse and sallied forth for a gallop on the plain.
When about two miles from the fort she was met by Turk
Redby. She was a little frightened when she saw him ap-
proaching, for she had neVer liked the looks of the man, and
she had often thought how she would dislike to meet him
alone, in a place where no friends were near to help her. Be-
sides, she now observed something in the expression of his
hoe that gave her cause for additional uneasiness, and he's

the was far from home. where nobody could hear her cri-a

for aid, if aid were needed. He was mounted, as she was,
and, riding up to her, he executed a profound bow, and stop-

ped.
Marian tried to pass, but the man bent over and grasped

I, one of her hands. Trembling in every limb, she looked up
at him. His black, piercing eyes were fastened upon her with

I steady gaze. whose meaning could not be mistaken.

',  “ Marian Howmh,” said he, in a rough yet earnest voles.

     

 
  
 
 
  

 
  

 
   

 

   
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
 

 

  

.never look upon the face of your father again i
/ tuer lose my soul than you, and I would rather be your mue-

TIIBPIOTER mm.

“ you are the fairest flower which Nature has planted in thit
region! You are beautiful ! You are worthy of the adult.
ration of a king, or the envy of the proudest queen I”

It was a singular speech for him to make, especially as it
was the first time he had ever spoken to her, and as it came
without a single preliminary remark. Mariam snatched her
hand from his, as she would from the touch of a serpent.

“Leave me, sir,” she said, angrily. “I don't like to be
stopped by force, and I wish to have no words with you. Let
me pass.” v

“ Stay but a moment, Miss Howarth,” he rejoined, detain-
ing her, as she assayed to ride on. “ Hear what I have to
say; I will not detain you long. Dear Marian, since I have
come to Fort Binkley you have won my heart l I am deeply,
depcrately in love. I adore you ; I worship the very ground
you walk upon. I can not live without you-”

“ Sir, I command you to leave me i" cried Marian.

“Not until you have answered me," replied Turk Bedby,
drawing up his tall figure. “ Not until you have told me that
my passion is in some measure returned.”

The girl gave her horse a cut with her whip, and he
jumped forward. But, quick as thought, the man seized the
bridle-rein, put forth his gigantic strength against that of the
horse, and in a moment the animal stood still again.

“ Hands ofi‘, villain l” exclaimed Marian, flushing with ilk
digestion. “ Hands 03?, and let me pass, or you shall repent
this insult. I will cause my father to punish you.”

“ Not so fast, my sweet little bird. When you promise to
become my wife, you are at liberty to fly hc-meward; but if
you refuse to make such a promise, by the Eternal you will
I would rs.

derer then see you bestow your afl‘ections upon another."

The last word had just dropped from the man's mouth
when down came the littl'c riding-whip across the back of the
hand that held the bridle. cutting into the flesh, and causing
it to relax its held. In an instant there was a snort and s
plunge, and before Redby was aware that he had released her,»
Marian was riding with the speed at the wind toward tit.
(at. ‘ .

o " I

 

 

  

   

 

 

 

  

women. II
He did not pursue, She glanced over her shoulder, and
saw him still sitting there in his saddle, us motionless as n
ruck, looking after her as she fled from his presence. Unrea-
sonable as he appeared to be, he evidently saw that it would
be worse thanuseless to follow.
On arriving home, Marian's first impulse was to go to her

father and tell him what had happened. But she took a ,

second thought, and, believing that Turk Redby would never
chow himself at the fort again, after the gross insult he had,
otfered her, she concluded to keep the secret of the ufi'air‘
locked up in her own breast, for two or three days at least.

But she mistook the character of the man. He did not
put in an appearance again that day, but the next morning he
came in as boldly as if he had never done any thing wrong
in his life. I

He went straight to the commandant‘s quarters, and de‘
mended an interview with Colonel Howarth.

No sooner was he face to face with that officer, than—in
the abrupt manner in which he always introduced a subject
"he asked him for the hand of his daughter.' The colonel
was astonished, dumbfounded, indignant. He turned red and
white several times in succession before he could utters
word, and when he did recover the use of his tongue, it was
only to jerk out. the one word :

u  I,”

“ Yes, I,” replied Redby, in an impudent, defiant way
“ I‘ve got considerable money, and you had better let me have
the girl, before she falls into the clutches of some chap who
can't keep her out of want.”

“ But you are not serious, Redby 1’" said. the sstOnished fa- -

that.

“ I mean precisely what I.say," was the curt response.

“ Then, sir. leave my presence at once i" cried the colonel,
white with rage, as he pointed toward the door. “ Begonel
sud let me never hear another word from you on this sub.

1003-”

It was not the mild refusal that might have been expected
from one of Colonel Howsrth’s disposition, but the idea of his
daughter—beautiful. refined. delicate. innocent Mariana—the
Idea. of Mr being selected {or the wire of this com. yum“.~

    
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

   
 
 
 
  
 
    
    
     
   

 

  

m BPECTEB RIDERS.

one-looking adventurer, was more than he could listen to and

keep his temper.
' “ Go 1” he said ; “ I will not hear another syllable from you.
This is absurd—it is preposterous.” '

A sneer curled. Turk Redby’s lip, and an ominous fire began
to burn in his wicked-looking eyes.

“ Curse you i" he hissed, through his grinding teeth.
‘ When I leave at your order I will let you know.”

“ Do you refuse to obey ‘1’"

'“ Do I? Can‘t you see that I do ? You shall receive my
proposition with more respect before I go.”

“This is folly, sir. If you do not withdraw within five
minutes, by heaven I will have you removed !"

“There are not men enough in the fort to do that,” de-
clared the adventurer, in a bullying way. “ I tell you, colo-
nel, you 'are trifling with no common person, now. I am
desperate. You had better consider your own safety
before laying violent hands on me, and you had better think
twice before refusing me the hand of your daughter. I will
not take a refusal. The opposition of an army can not pre
vent me from accomplishing my purpose! The girl shall be
my wife in spite of heaven and earth 1"

Colonel Hoivarth stepped to the door to call in help, with
the intention of removing the boisterous wretch per force.
Before he could, do so, however, Redby stepped forward and
dealt him a blow between the eyes. with his heavy list, which
sent him staggering back into one corner of the apartment.
At that instant a soldier, attracted by the loud, angry voices
of the disputants, rushed into the room and attempted to in.

,’ terfcre. But he was scarcely inside when the desperado drew

a pistol, leveled it at him, and fired. The soldier fell with a
groan, and stained the floor with his blood.

Having done this, the outlaw tried to escape, but a com-
mand from Colonel Howarth rung like a bugle-blast through
the quarters, and his retreat Was cut ofi‘ by a score of sturdy
men. There was a struggle, but in less than ten minutes
Turk Redby was a prisoner, securely confined in a cell of the
block-house. ‘ V

The soldier who was shot in the colonel’l room, was sort
ously, though not mortally wounded.

 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
   
   
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
   
  

 

    

 

  

 

 

  
 

 

 

 

 

  

armormaun. 33

 

He was rendered a cripple for life, by receiving the bullet
in his knee.

The garrison was thrown into a state of intense excitement
by this hold assault upon the commandant, and the soldiers
were eager to resent the insult, as well as to avenge their
wounded comrade.

A few of the hottest-headed ones were in favor of hanging
he monster, but to this the colonel would not give his con-
sent. He set his face sternly against putting the fellow to
death, assuring them that the extent of the offense—although
murder had been attempted—would not justify them in taking
the ofi‘ender’s life. It was finally decided that Turk Redhy
should receive a severe flogging, as condign punishment for
his conduct, after which he was to be banished from the fort,
with a warning that he could not return, except at the forfeit
of his life.

So, one morning, several days after hi imprisonment, he
Was led out to the place of torture. The place selected for
the castigation was just beyond the confines of the fort, and
it was to take place in the presence of the entire popula
tion.

The prisoner was stripped to the waist, and tied to a post,
which had been set into the ground for this purpose.

Three men—strong, muscular fellows, all of them—were
appointed by Colonel Howath to inflict the punishment.
Armed with whips, each of which possessed a number of
lashes, these men performed by turns the task assigned to
them ; and if they used all their strength to make every stroke
as severe as possible, it was the thought of a comrade maimed
for life that steeled their hearts. Fast, and without mercy,
fell the cutting thongs upon the uncovered back of the wretch,
bringing the blood at every blow, but no cry, no groan, not,
even a murmur fell from the sufi‘erer’s lips. Only an occa-
sional quiver of the body showed that he was sensible of the 1
pain.

But when the punishment was completed, and the cords
that bound him to the stake were untied, he fell to the ground
in a swoon.

Restoratives were promptly given him, and he soon re~
covered and rose to his feet.

  

 

 

   
  
  

    
    
 
  
   
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
    

me am mm

Without a word he turned his back on his tortnrers, and
moved slowly ofl‘, refusing assistance in donning his garments.
When a few yards away, he stopped and turned toward the
crowd. He was pale, and looked weak, but his voice was
strong, loud, and steady enough for all to hear, as he said :

“ Though I leave you now, I swear you are not rid of
me yet ! Before a year has expired there are those among
you who will feel the vengeance of a desperate man l"

While speaking, his eyes were fastened with a ferocious
.ook upon the principal actors in the infliction of his punish-
ment.

As he ceased, he turned on his heel, waved his hand, and
walked slowly away, without again looking back.

The crowd watched him with solemn faces, until he was
out of sight, and since that memorable hour the people oi
Fort Binkley had neither seen nor heard of Turk Redhy.

CHAPTER VI.
nowwrm. 11' man!

'l‘nnna Was no little excitement created at the fort, When
Adam Grifi and Edward Westlake returned, with an account
of what had occurred. The intelligence that the Indian
dwarf, Solomon, had turned traitor, and that Marian had
well-nigh become his captive, was surprising enough in itself;
but, when they went on to say that Solomon Was in the service
of Turk Redby, and that the latter was somewhere in th
vicinity, wonder and indignation found vent in excited ex
clemations and clamorous inquiries.

So Redby had returned already. A few there were who
thought it an idle story, fabricated by the Indian, but it Wits
the general belief that the desperado had in reality came back
to that neighborhood, and Was at that moment in concealment
not far away.

Whether he had’come for the purpose of wreaking some
terrible vengeance upon those who had given him his just '

A._._./>' ._

 

  
 
     

 

 

 

 

dues, or whether his sole object was to attempt the capture
of the girl he professed to love, was, of course, a matter of
conjecture. It was now one year since his banishment. How
long he had been back there, no one could tell. Probably,
instead of going away, he had been lurking near the fort ever
since his departure.

The excitement was inereased when young Westluke,.

urged by the trapper, recounted his adventure with the Spec
ter Riders.

.Adam Grifl’s story, which that worthy had told a day or
two before, had not worked very strongly upon the creduli-
ty of those who heard it, as the majority believed that, in
some unaccountable manner, he had been deceived. But,
now that his statement was corroborated by Edward, who
told a story still more wonderful than that of the- trapper,
the people could only conclude that there was something in
it, after all.

Both of these were men of undoubted veracity. That
they aimed to tell nothing but the plain truth could not be
questioned, and since their descriptions of the awful specta-
cle were very similar, it was unanimously conceded that such
5 mystery really did exist.

Quite a number believed that the missing men—Dean
Potter, Simon Dawes and Joe Crumpton—were in some man-
ner connected with it; but there was a diversify of opinion
as to the nature of the connection. While some thought
it. was simply a trick played upon them by the three men.
others supposed that the Specter Riders were actually spirits
from the dead. and that they were the cause of the trio’s
mysterious disappearance. This was a superstitious belief,

u at there were several, who had always contended that they
ad no faith in the supernatural, that now had not a word
to say in opposition to such a belief. llow would it end?

Colonel Howath scratched his head and frowned, as he
always did when perplexed.

“Peterson,” he cried out, to a man standing near, “tell
young Westlake and Adam Grifi' that I wish to see them

' immediately.” '

It did not surprise Edward and Admin the least, for

they had both known the colonel long encugh to understand

 

_. . MW . ..V ,...__. V...” “tweentysawsg.:.;14w.,_.w._..

'— rv-r v -- Wei—3“-
_ r ....- W ..;, n 

LL; 80 V THE mama nmnns.

him perfectly. ’Wbenever he was at a loss how to act, he'- i

invariablysent for these two scouts, if they were at the fort,

always certain of their ability to advise him beneficially.

In ten minutes the three men were closeted together in
the commandant’s private apartment, in the block-house.
They held a consultation. Colonel Howath first spoke

. of the Specter Horsemen, asking an endless number of ques-

t: tions concerning them, and declaring repeatedly that it was

I ' the strangest thing he had ever heard of. Skeletons ridingC

3. horses! Why, it was perfectly awful 1 And striking the

“ table a tremendous blow with his fist, he told his two friends
he never could have believed such a preposterous story, had
it proceeded from other lips than their own. What. course
should he pursue to investigate the cause of this mystery ? >

Edward thought it unnecessary to attempt an investiga-
tion.

- ' “ Whatever they are,” said he, “ we can not say that they F
have offered to harm any one as yet. True, they pursued '
me hotly last night, but when I discharged my pistols they ,
turned aside and galloped away, as unconcerned as it it " é.
mattered nothing to them in which direction they rode. I '
believe there is nothing to be apprehended from them, and
the mystery will explain itself it let alone. Besides, in my
opinion, there are matters of more importance demanding at-
tention at present.”

Adam Grifl‘ said it was impossible to find out any thing
about it, and therefore all time consumed in the attempt, " '
would be foolishly wasted.

 

 

 

“Why, durn it I" he exclaimed, hanging his cap on tho ,, a
muzzle of his rifle, and discharging a stream of tobacco-juice 
clean across the room, “them things is sperrits. and yer 1;?

_can’t make any thing else out on ’em, and _whar's the use
tryin’ to do sunkthin’ with sperrits? They’ll have thar own '
" way, in spite of fate.” r ' '

“ We will let that subject drop for' the present,” observed
the colonel, “since neither of you think it worth while to
try and stop the perambulations of those strange riders.

' But what about this man, Turk Redhy? It strikes me that.-
" he means mischief by returning to this neighborhood, and
if we continue to heme him in his efi‘orts to steal my daugh.

 

 

 

,

    
  
 

I, 

no! Turk Redby.”

run scou'r‘s ADVICE.

tor, there is no telling what he will do. I-would send out a
body of men without delay, to search for his hiding-place,
but for one thing: there are now three parties out, hunting
for Potter, Dawes and Crampton, and I can not tell how-
long they will be absent. In existing state of affairs, when
the Indians seem on the verge of digging up the hatchet, I
hesitate to thin out the garrison . more, and thus weaken our
resources for defense.”

" No occasion fur it, kurnel,” said Adam, confidently,
throwing one long leg over the other, and firing another
charge of juice across the room.

“ Well ?” returned the colonel, interrogatively.

“Me and the youngster have made that up atwixt Us,”
:eontinued the scout. “ We’re goin’ to go out alone in s’arch

“ Alone 1"

“ Sartin we be. Thar’s no use sendin’ a hull score of men
to look fur a single man.”

“But, supposing you find him, you will probably need as-
sistance when it comes to making him surrender."

“ Bah l ’tain’t likely, noways. Ef we do, I reckon one of
us kin watch him while t’othcr comes back nrter help. No
use talkin’, kurnel; we’re boun’ fur to do this by ourselves,
and hyur’s what stakes his pile that we won’t come back
without findin’ the feller‘s lurkin'-pluce.”

Colonel Howarth seemed to reflect.

“I believe you are right,” he said. “ There are no other
two men in the fort whom I could feel safe in sending upon
an errand like this, but your success in previous undertakings,
and your skill in overcoming dangers and uncertainties, force
me to believe that you will succeed in this.”

“ We propose to do what we can, sir,” said Edward, modestly

“ And wheri do you wish to start?”

“As soon as you see proper to send us; the sooner the
better, I think.” v

“ Reckon we’d better go to-morrer," said Adam.

“ Make it the day after to-morrow,” interposed Colonel Ho-
warth, addressing the trapper. “ Remember that Westlake‘
has been on a long and tedious journey, and should have one
day for rest.” / ‘

   
 

 

 

,V;..._._‘;,_,_ H

   
  

“ Wal, the day arter to-morrer is soon enough, I calc’latof
replied Adam, rising and stretching his limbs.

And that was the result of the consultation.

Next morning Marian rose bright and early, and came
forth to take her favorite recreation—a gallop in the open air.
As was always the case when Edward was not nbscnt, she
rode his handsome white steed, Cherokee, and it was a most
beautiful picture they made together. Marian always chose
.to ride alone, in her morning exercise, but on this occasiun
her father would not hear to her going outside of the walls
unaccompanied. In vain she assured him she was not afraid;

, he told her that she was afraid of nothing, that there was
danger as long as 'l‘urk Redby lurked in the vicinity, and
that she must not incuutiously expose herself to that danger.
She laughed merrily at his fears, but told him he could do as
he liked about providing her with an escort.

“ I will go with you myself,” said the colonel. " I believe
I am in need of exercise of this kind, and consequently I
shall kill two birds with one stone."

And so Colonel Howarth mounted his own spirited horse,
and accompanied Marian as her protector.

Edward stood at the gate as father and daughter rode out,
and somehow his heart fairly leaped as he looked at her.
He thought she had never looked so charming as now, with
her dark eyes sparkling, her hair blowing unheeded about her
face, and the cold wind kissing the roses into her cheeks.

Mounted upon Cherokee—and riding as if born to govern
the noble brute—she did, indeed, make a beautiful appear.

“ Goodvby, Edward l" she cried. laughingly, as they passed
him. “ Maybe you will never see me again.” ,

He knew it was a hit at her father, for his fears, but new--

‘ertheless he could not help feeling a little uneasy as the words
fell upon his ears. .

When a little distance away, Marian turned her head and
kissed her hand to Edward. He answered, and then silently
there by the gate he stood, watching the riders as they gal’
loped sway, nor removed his eyes from their receding 1011'.
until they were lost to view beyond the distant ledges.

“ Maybe you will never seems again."

 

 

WAITING IN VA“.

Somehow these words, playfully though they were uttered.
made a singular impression on our hero.
He could not get them off his mind, and he caught him-
self repeating them again and again under his breath.
» A strange, sickening terror'took possession of him.

CHAPTER VII.
0N 'rmc TRAIL.

WHEN Colonel Howarth rode out with his daughter, he
told a subordinate oflicer, who desired an interview with him,
that he would be back in one hour, positively.

He was not as good as his word. Two—three—four hours
passed away, and'still the colonel and the girl were absent.

What could detain them so long? Something of a serious
nature must have occurred, rendering it utterly impossible for
them to return at the specified time, for the colonel was not
a man who would break a promise without sufiicient cause.
Edward thought of Marion’s parting words, “Maybe you will
not see me again," and of the manner in which they had af-
fected. him at the time. Probably she had spoken the truth

.unconseionsly. He turned very pale at the thought of it.

Noon came and went, and still the absent couple did not
put in an appearance. The whole fort was thrown into a
state of intense excitement and alarm, and every one was en-
ger to learn what had happened to the missing ones. The
majority believed that Indians were at the bottom of it, in:
quite a number whispered mysteriously to one another abou
the Specter Riders, and the similar disappearance of the three
men, Potter, Crampton and Dawes. In their opinion the
Specter Riders were the cause of all, and at the head of this
party was the old trapper, Adam Grifl‘. ,

Something must be done! That was the cry of all, but
what it was that must be done was another question. Here
the commander of the fort, together with his beautiful daugh-
ter, had gone away in that same silent, inexplicable manner

 

 

   

  

i:

    
   
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

\

I) ‘ ma: smornn mans.

which had characterized the disappearance of those three an
fortunate soldiers, and in all probability would never be seen
or heard of again. Yes, something must be done. No one
could think of letting the matter rest without making some
sort of an efi‘ort in behalf of their gallant leader. Nearly all
were in favor of sending out a company to rescue him, and
that would have been speedily done but for the sturdy inter-
position of old Adam Grifi'. The trapper was always listened
to eagerly in a consultation, and he now held the attention of
all as he laid before them, in his own quaint manner, the
course which be deemed it the part of prudence to pursue.
He first explained the risk incurred in sending out a company,
and thus making the garrison unnecessarily weak at a time
when the Indians were showing dissatisfaction; and then he
went on to say that he‘ and Edward Westlake would volun-
teer to take the trail, and wnuld do all in their power to re-
cover the 10st ones. This offer was met with general appro-
bation, though several insisted upon accompanying the two
scouts, until quieted by a stern command to hold their tongues.

So every thought of searching for Turk Redby was for
the present relinquished, and it was decided that Edward and
Adam should take the trail of the missing commandant and
his daughter.

It was now the middle of the afternoon, and without wast-
ing another minute of time, the two men hastily equipped

‘ themselves for a journey. Edward had to borrow a horse,

his own having been given into the possession 0! Marisa, but
this, of course, was easily done, where everybody was, eager
to render a service to Colonel Hownrth. I
In a very short time they were in their saddles. With a
final good-by to their friends, from whom they received words
of cheer and prayers for success, they galloped away.
“ Thar goes two more,” ‘said somebody in the crowd, “ and

I opine they’llnever return to Fort Binkley. Wouldn’t be ,

n’prised ef we never see any on ’em ag’in in this world.”

The course followed by Edward and Adam lay due west, '

which was the direction taken by the colonel and Marian in
their departure. Edward was mounted upon a spirited little
pony, ot the mustang breed, while Adam, of course, bestrodo
the irrepressible Sarah Jane. ‘ n

.H

 
 

 

 

   

 

 
   
   
 

 

 
 
      
    
  

   

 

 

-. L
nr

1'

 



 

 

A s'rm'rmxe mscovanr. 41

» At first they were enabled to travel at good speed, but as
soon as it became necessary to shape their course by the trail
on the ground they were compelled to fall into a walk. In
some places the trail was so dim that the trapper would have
to dismount to keep it in sight, moving along in a stooping
posture and leading his mare. At such times Edward’s duty
was to ride slowly behind, and keep the country, as far as his
eyes could reach, H'Hit‘r a constant inspection. In this man-
ner they proceeded, sometimes quite rapidly, but often so
slowly that our lit-re fairly trembled with impatience.

At a distance of about five miles from the fort they made
their first halt. It was at this point that the trail met with
its first interruption, and they paused to examine the ground.

Here they made a startling discovery. Up to this time it
appeared that Marian and her father had ridden at a steady
canter, side by side, but on this spot they had evidently drawn
rein. There were innumerable hoof-prints in the yielding
soil, suggesting one of two things: that the horses had not
stood very quietly or had been joined by others.

‘ “ Which is it i" asked Edward, who was the first to speak
of the conflicting probabilities. »

“They've been fined by others, I take it.” returned the
trapper, looking at the tracks with some perplexity. “ You
jist keep yer seat, while I git down and take a eluser view.”

With this Adam slid out of the saddle, and began a closer
examination of the ground.

, “ Do you make out any thing ?” asked his companion, ea-

‘ get-1y.

“ Heap,” was the laconic reply.

“ Strange tracks, eh i’"

“ Bure’s shootin’. 'l‘har’s lots of tracks hyur that war never
made by Cherokee, or the kurnel's hose.”

“Then it was on this spot that the difliculty took place,

,md from here we must take the trail in earnest.”

“Now you’re talkin‘, boy, but we want to understand what
tuk place hyur, afore we go furder."
Edward dismounted and joined his friend in the examina-

. ,tion.

A“ I almost. fear to look about,” he said, “ for I more than
half-expect to discover something that will tell us Marian

 

 

 

. a," .

,-..-.4. _,.4 ....

dds-r. ,

& THE SPECTER RIDE“

and her father have met with a horrible fate. Good Hea-
ven I”

“ Eh ? What‘s the matter ?" demanded the trapper, star-
tled by the sudden exclamation of the young man.

Edward was standing there, just where he had dismounted,
his face ashy white, and his eyes gleaming like stars.

“ What’s the matter, boy ?" repeated Adam, slapping him
‘m the back. '

Edward pointed to the ground.

“ Look l" he gasped. “It is blood—I know it is blocdl”

Adam did look, and a cloud swept over his features. It
was blood—dark, coagulated blood—spilled some hours before,
as its appearance plainly indicated. and although it had been

' partially trampled into the earth by the horses, there were

still pools and blotches left to tell of the dark deed that. had
been perpetrated on this spot.

The two men looked significantly at each other. ,

“ It is human blood—of course ‘2" said Edward, huskily.

“I ruther think it are,” was the muttered rejoinder;

“ Then one or both of them has been killed i”

There was no tremor in the young man’s Voice as he said
this; but he was pale as death, and there was cold perspira-
tion on his forehead. ‘

“ Maybe ’tain’t so bad as that, youngster,” said Adam.

“ I hope not, but it looks bad—V—very bad. Somebody has
evidently been killed or seriously hurt, and the most reason-
able supposition is that it was either the colonel or Marian,
or both. Have you ascertained which direction their enemies
came from ?” '

“ Yas; hyur’s what the tracks jine. They dashed onto ’em
at full speed, that’s sart’in, and they come from yender
course.”

The trapper pointed to a dense cluster oLwillow trees grow;
ing on a tract of low, marshy land, at a distance of about a
furlong from where they stood. _

“ I suppose,” said Edward, “ that the demons were hidden
among those willows, and burst upon their victims so sud-
denly and unexpectedly that the latter were unable to make I
movement toward escape.”

“ You’re speakin' this humer’s mind now.”

 

.

 

 

.44. cbfl

A nmwr-s" ;- '
« o

 

was“

W.
l
-:

 
 
  

 

ammo ~ " men." 43

“ How many enemies were there ?” inquired the'youth.

“ Wnl, thar was only three bosses, and I calcllatevthar war.
n’t more men than bosses."

“ Only three l Of course they were Indians?"

“ That’s jist what’s puzzlin’ my upper story; 'Taiu’t plain
to me that they war Injuus—not byyn long shot. In fact,
I don’t l)‘1ieve Injuns had any thing to do with it‘whntanin-
over.”

“ You astonisli me.”

“ Wnl, youngster, you know as well as I that reds ain’t in
the habit of keepin’ thar hosses shod, and if you’ll 100k let
these tracks you’ll diskiver that every hoof w'ars a shoe.”

' “But who could they be, if not Indians ?”

Adam Grifl‘ seemed to hesitate before replying to this query.
and looked. keenly at his companion. Then, in a SubduEd
voice, as if fearful the; somebody else would hear. him, he
laid: .

“ Edward, it strikes meVI’d better jog yer memory a. little
1% [wuss of the Specter Riders are all shod l’f

CHAPTER VIII.
WHO ARE THE csr'ronsi?

“ WELT do you mean ?" demanded Edward, in a tone .0!
venetian.

“ I tuck ’tickler notice,” continued the trapper, with a shake
of his head, “ and I sce’d they war shod jist like white man’s
hosses.”

“ Pooh! I hope’you don‘t believe—”

, “ Besides,” interrupted Adam, “ you know that’s jist three
of them specters, and ef that number don’t correspond with
these tracks, I’ll draw in my horns.”

I Edward tamped his foot with impatience; for, to be enn-
did,"he was somewhat alarmed by the words of his friend,
laugh. he endeavored to conceal it. »

“ Let us not talk about that new, Adam,” said he. " Icon

,7;~ ,.

 

\
A “gaffvmlfix

 


i3


t

..s .amw‘mw A .

 

    
   
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 

m SPECTRR RIDERS.

not think as you do; but whoever or whatever has captured .

or killed our friends, we must follow and punish them, all the
same.”

“ We’ll do that, at possible," said the trapper, firmly, but‘

with an air that showed be doubted the possibility of punish,
ing any thing that was not. mortal. “ Hyur’s what ain’t fur
givin’ up the job, but it's cl’ar to me them spooks is at the
bottom of the hull thing."

Then both renewed their examination of the signs on the
ground. These were quite complicated, and for some time
no definite conclusion could he arrived at as to the result of
the struggle which had taken place here

“ Look at these tracks,” cried the young hunter, after wan-
dering away from his companion.

“ Don't see ’em ’way ofi‘ thar, do yer i” inquired the elder,
looking up. '

“Yes, and they are just as fresh as those. By my soul!
here is Cherokee’s footprint. I would know it among a thou-
sand.” I .

The trapper joined him, and scrutinized the earth curi-
ously.

Yes, here were tracks, made by two horses dashing away
at break-neck speed, in a southerly direction.

“You‘re right, youngster," said the old scout; “this is
Cherokee's track."

Edward uttered a joyful exclamation.

“ And this other,” said he, “ is that of the colonel’s horse!
Good! I verily believe they effected their escape, after all.”

For some moments Adam was silent; then, slowly shak-
ing his head, he resumed his upright position, and mm:-
tered:

“That's a wrong notion you’ve got, now, knmrid. The.

kuruel’s hoes hain't passed this way at all', and at you’ll jist
take another squint at the ’arth hyur,l guess you‘ll see yer
mistake. “My view of the thing is this: when they war set
upon by that enemies, the gal broke away, and tried to esp
cape by flight, while the suddintness of the transaction per-
vented the kurnel from doin’ any thing of the sort. Wat,

one of- the skunks rushednftarlthe gal, and this are the their

tion they tuck. D‘yer see r'

,«N. :1.a

 

 
       
     

 

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
       
   
     

..m'. zAjirm-

 

. moved oti‘ together, and mounting their own animals, our

. rhntand her father were still alive and in the saddle, and as

 

THE PLACE OF CAPTURE.

Edward saw, and his countenance clouded. It was evi-
dent thatAdam’s solution was the proper one.

“ Whether Marian war ketched or not,” he continued, as he i ,
coolly took a chew of tobacco, “ remains to be seen. We’ll .5:
jist foller this trail, and see how it ends." ‘

They had followed it but a dozen rods, when they came to
a spot where it was quite obvious Marian had been captured
l y be" pursuers. She had failed to escape.

“What ailed that horse?” cried Edward, fiercely. “He
might have done better than that. There isn’t a swifter horse
in the country."

The trapper shook his head gravely.

‘ :“ Ef be war swift as lightniu' itself,” said he, “ that be no
use in tryin’ to outrun-a sperm; and that’s what them Specter
Riders are." ’

“Bah l” was the impatient rejoinder; “ didn’t he outrun
them the other night, when they wore after me? If he had
not fallen, I could have left them far behind in a jiffy. . t
Pshaw! even if these ara‘Specter Riders, I have no faith in l
their ability to travel faster than mortals.” "

Neither cared to enter into an argument on this subject, so
it was dropped then and there. . 

Turning aside from the spot where Marian was captured, ’ ‘
the two horses had walked away, side by side, returning, by
a circuitous course, to the point where the attack had been
made.

Following the trail thither, the hunters were forced to the '
conviction that, if nothing worse had befallen them, Colonel ‘
Howarth and daughter were at least in the custody of ene-
mics.

3 They soon discovered the trail. where the five horses had

AA (2-4;.- -=. .t,  f “u.

u? _..‘ 7

 

fearless champions rode along beside it at a brisk can-
ter.

Adam Grid’s thirty years’ experience on the border now
served him a good turn. By mere reference to the indenta-
tions in the ground, he was enabled to' assert that every one
of the five horses in front was mounted. It was by no
means an unpleasant discovery, for it went to show that Ma-

 

   

TEE SI’ECTEB mum

\
this reflection filled them with hope, they pushed resolutely .

on.

Just at nightfall they reached a broad but shallow stream
of water, running directly across their path. They did not
cross it.

By this time it was too dark to follow the trail further,
the tney decided to stop on the tank of the stream until
morning So, after tethering their animals, dispatching a
frugal nit-2, and holding a consultation of some length, they
spread their clause-us upon the ground, and lay down to rest.

CHA'V’i‘I‘lR I X.
a rumour an): men-r.

In night was clear and cold. It was late when the moon

t made its appearance, but it made ample amends for its tardi-l ‘

ness by the flood of tempered retulgenee it emitted from its
full, round disk, as it slowly ascended the sky.

Nature was at rest, and the silence was impressive. The
only sounds to be heard were the nionmouous murmur of the
river, the deep, measured breathing of the two sleepers, the
horses craunching the grass, and the occasional stamp of an
iron-clad hoof. Once or twice, indeed, a wailing cry, faint
and far aw my, came quivering across the prairie, but, though
strangely l ke the cry of a human being, the trailers, had they
been awall e, would have pronounced it nothing more nor less
than a panthcr‘s scream.

It was after midnight, when the two men were awakened
by a shrill neigh from one of the horses. The sound
brought them out of their slttmbers with a start. Simulta-

uneousl y they rose to a sitting posture, rubbing their eyes open,

and staring about them, bewildered and alarmed.

“ What was it?" asked Edward.

“ Thatwar Sarah Jane's voice,onless I’m powerful mis-
t00k.” umwled Adam, ,endeavoring to clear his eye-eight,

“‘9 ant-112m ‘1” alumna you Myra?” 2“! .mil' in" ~

    
 

   
 
  

 

 

 

a“... ‘3 ,g-E

 

  

surname mt HATER.

the Wind. Jist look at 'em—thar is sunkthin‘ the mat-
tn‘” .

And the position of the animals told that there really
was.

They were standing with heads erect, their ears pointed
forward, and their glassy eyes looking steadily in one di-
rection. '

“ They see something,” whispered Westlake; “ an Indian,
probably."

u ssh I»

At that instant they distinctly heard the neigh of another

‘ horse, proceeding front a point further down the river.

As it moved by one impulse, both reached for their rifles,
and in a second they had then) in their hands, ready for use.
Springing to their feet, they. scattered the fire in every di-
rection, and then stood waiting for the expected attack No-
thing was to be seen—nothing more to he heard.

The moon shone on with undlmmed brilliancy, the; river
gt'rgled and sung in its shallow bed, and no other sounds dis-
“1th the stillness.

But old Sarah Jane and the mustang continued to stand
‘Vtilh their heads in the air, gazing in thedirectiou from which
that answering neigh had come.

“ What does it all mean i” exclaimed Edward, looking un-
easily around.

“ It means thar‘s somebody in this neighborhood besides
ourselves,” was the confident rejoinder. ‘

“ There certainly was a moment since, but we have no
proof that such is the case now.”

“ See how them critters stare—that's proof."

“ Hush! Look—look 1"

Both saw it at the same time, though what 'it was neither
could tell, since their keen eyes could give it no shape. It

, wasan object of some description, several paces distant, and
so dimly visible, that it would not have attracted attention,
had it not been in motion. ‘

It was something alive and mOVing—something white.

- “‘0”: you tell what it~ is ?” whispered the young man.
'v “.Not any," replied Adam. “ You stay hynr, boy, and I’ll
go and see what the cusstd thing. are." u

 
 
  
  
   
 
   
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
       
     
    

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    

,

THE SPECTER RIDERS.

The trapper pulled his cap down to his eyebrows, beat
his body almost double, and before his companion could utter
a word of remonstrunce against a proceeding so dangerous,
he was gliding swiftly tbward the unknown object.

Edward's first impulse was to follow, but a second thought
told him it were better that he should remain quietly where
he was, until assured that the scout needed his assistance.

Scareer was Adam out of sight when the clear report of
his rifle rung out. with startling effect on the still night air.

Edward caught his breath at the sound, and took a step
or two forward, with his own gun at his shoulder. He
paused—there was a furious snorting and plunging, imme-
diately followed by the clatter of hoofs, as a number of
horses galloped away with the speed of the wind.

Then came the sound of approaching footsteps, and the
next instant Adam Grifi' came running up, as fast as his long
legs could carry him, with his gun in his hand. His face
was whiter than usual, his lips were compressed, his eyes
gleamcd like stars, and, as he stopped, panting in front of
Edward, the latter thought he had never seen him looking so
wild and tiurried.

“ Good gracious! man, what has happened i"

“ Nothin’ to speak of,” was the husky reply.

“But. you have seen something,” persisted Edward, look-
ing steadily at. him. “ What did you shoot at i"

“ Wal, ef you’re determined to know, I’ll tell you. See
‘yur, boy. would yer b'lieve it. t—it was them we see’d."

“ I don’t understand.”

4 “ I war clus to ’em.
now." .

“Who are you talking about i"

“ The Specter Riders l”

“ Heavens! did you see them i"

“ Did I? Lord bless you, I war right onto ’em ’fore I
knowed it," said the trapper, beginning to talk more freely.

“And the moving object we saw was one of the Specter
Riders?”

I see’d ’em as plain as Isee you

“That’s jist exactly what it war, and I calc’late they war \
hangin‘ 'round - hyur fur no good. ’1' hey wanted to 'sperrit '

us off in our sleep, that’s what I‘m thinkin’.” "

   

 

A NIGHT OF "GIL.

“ You shot at them ?"

’ “ Yas, but I hardly knowed what I was doin’.”

“ Without effect, of course i’”

“ Good Lord l I might as well have shot at a whirlwind.

But I reckon it did some good, though, 'cauae it skeered the
blasted things away. Wagh l they’re easy skecred, ef bulkta
can’t hurt ’em."
\ As a matter of course there was no more sleep for the
trailers that night, for both were so thoroughly awakened
and excited by what had occurred that they felt as though
they would never again feel the need of sleep. Adam Griff,
especially, was in favor of keeping his eyes open until dawn,
since he firmly believed the Specter Riders would he upon
thorn in a minute if they should allow themselves to fall into
unconsciousness again. Though bold as a lion, and afraid of
no mortal enemy, Adam nevertheless possessed a weakness
which was easily Worked upon by any thing wearing a su-
pernatural air, and really felt that his only danger was from
that which could not be understood. In this respect he was
like nearly, all of his class, but entirely different from many
persons we wot of, with a vein of superstition in their natures,
who would feel no cause for alarm it surrounded by spirits,
as no physical harm could be received from them, but proved
themselves arrant cowards when their courage was tested by
flesh and blood adversaries.

About an hour after the event which had aroused than
from their slumber's, the hunters were sitting on the bank of-
the stream, with their blankets wrapped closely around them,
to ward oi? the chilly night air, while they kept up an nnre-‘
mining watch for danger.

They were discussing the duties of the marrow, and com-
paring opinions as to the probable distance that must be trav-
eled before the terminus of the trail could be reached. All
at once, while Edward was speaking, the trapper grasped his
arm roughly, checking his utterance in the middle of a sen-
tence. - ‘

'e Edward turned toward him in surprise.

“ What do you hear now '5" he asked, observing that Adam

- Hits-bending forward in a listening attitude.
' ' v 7“ Listen, and you’ll hear it yerself,” was the 

    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   

    

 

    

 sarcoma moans.

The young man dropped his ear close to the ground, in
Imitation of the scout‘s position, and listened intently.

Far away in the north-west he heard a low, deep rumb
ling, like that caused by a volcanic eruption, scarcely audible
as yet, but growing more and more distinct every moment,
as if a fearful tornado were rushing upon them. '

He raised his head and looked at Adam.

“ What is it ?" he asked, in astonishment.

“ Can’t yer guess i” returned Adam.

Edward reflected a moment.

“It can hardly he thunder,” he said, musingly.

“ Bah i do yer see any clouds in that direction 1’”

“ Not the trace of a cloud, therefore it is not thunder.
One might. think it was caused by myriads of chariots run-
ning races on a remote part of the globe— Ahl now I
know what it is. Why did I not think of that before? It
is a herd of buffalo.” -

“ Now you’ve got it,” said Adam, with his low laugh
“ Now you‘ve got it sure as shootiu’. It all a herd of buffalo."

“And an immense herd, too," said Edward, emphatically,
as he continued to listen.

“ You’re talkin’ facks now, youngster."

“ And it is coating this way.”

“ Jist as fast as it kin travel."

“Good Heaven 1” exclaimed Edward, rising to his feet;
“ are we not in a dangerous position 1?"

Adam also rose, and stood beside his cOmpanlon.

“ Wal, at this crick war’n’t hyur," he replied, “we’d find
it needeessary to turn tail and git, fur the sake of our lives.
The bufliers are comin’ from the north-west, and 'tain’t likely
they’ll cross the crick ’fore they git hyur. so I reckon we’re
safe in holdin’ our ground, ef that ain’t none on this side."

“ Suppose they should make an abrupt turn, when they are
exactly opposite, and cross 1‘"

“No danger of that. Ef they kin help it, bufliers won’t
cross a river while they’re on the run.” .

All this time the (leep rumbling had grown louder and
louder,- until it culminated in an awful, tremendous roar,
that could be likened to nothing but. perpetual thunder.
Steadily, swiftly, the not herd came rushing on, taking in a

l

..-,-~-s... -Aw VA; . ... l .

- a

 

 "a", ,, _ .

m LIVING mm. 61
stretchof prairie more than a mile wide from’flank to flank,
and it seemed the terrible noise would never cease to increase.

Edward’s pony became frightened, and he was compelled

.to hold him, while Adam followed the example by grasping

the lariat by which his mare was tethered, although the an-
cient creature continued to crop the grass as unconcerned as
if nothing was capable of disturbing her equanimity.

It was now evident that the buffaloes were all on the oppo-
site sideof the stream, and the situation of the hunters was,
by this means, deprived of all danger. No one, who has
never seen these immense droves of bnfl‘aloes in motion, can

have but a slight conception of the awful grandeur of the ~

scene, and when it occurs on a moonlight night, with the en-
tire mass moving at a full gallop, it is doubly interesting,
provided it can be viewed from a safe standpoint.

Now they came in view—rushing up like the sweep of a
vast tidal-wave—ecountless thousands pressed together in one
compact body—surging on like the storm-troubled billows of
the ocean. Our friends watched the scene in silence. The

Opposite side of the stream, from the margin to the furthest

point attainable by the eye, was a dark sea of bodies rolling
swiftly by. They looked north, southand west. Nothing
but a black, bellowing, roaring, thundering mass met their
gaze, flowing on with irregular undulations. Once or twice
some unfortunate was pushed into the river, and then his
frantic floundering was mingled with hoarse bellowing, till
he scrambled out and was once more hurled onward by the
living tide. _

At length the entire herd had passed. Its hindmost mem-
bers dashed out of sight, and some minutes later the thunder
of their hosts on the hard turf died away in the distance

.. mag- W;

 

 

 

 

 

     
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

 

TEE MOT“ 3mm,

CHAPTER X.
THE LOST TltAIL.

J For: some moments after the bufl‘aloes had passed from

view, and even after the din they created was no longer to

‘ be heard, old Adam Grifi‘ maintained a solemn silence, stand-

ing as motionless, and apparently as speechless, as a statue,
his chin resting on his hands, which were clasped over the
muzzle of his gun, and a frown as dark as a thunder-cloud
corrugating his brow. .

“ What ails you i” asked Edward, as soon as the frowning
silence of his companion struck him as an indication of new
vexations.

Adam shifted his position, looked at the young man, and
then shook his head with an astonishing degree of solemnityL

“ It’s a bad go, youngster,” said he.

“ What is a bad go l’”

“ Why, that bufl‘ler rampage, in course.”

“ I don’t understand."

“Yer mought by a little cogitatin’.”

“ What have the buffaloes done to discourage you 1'"

" Durn it, boy, have you forgot what we‘re hyur fur l'"

“ Of course not,” laughed Edward. “ We are in pursuit of
our friends’ captors."

“ Wal, don’t the trail cross this crick f”

’Edward gave a quick start.

“ Now I know what you mean,” he said. “ The trail has
been obliterated by the buffalo-herd.” .

“ Thar’s whar the bug lays,” returned the trapper. “ Them
cussed bufliers have cut the ’11th all to pieces on t’other side
of the crick, and we mought as well try to hail the ocean
outwith a holler tooth, as to look fur the trail over that.
We're stuck, that’s jittt as plain as the 'dirt on an Injun's
phiz." . ,

“ But we can pass over the tract of lanzl trampled by the

\

a  a:

    

    

A' rmrcam'r. 53

bnfl‘aloes, and take up the trail beyond that. We may be able
to find it again." ’

“ Yas; we mought be able to find a. needle in a hay-stack,
but it’s powerful onsartin. After travelin’ over ’bout two
miles of kentry, ’tain’t noways likely we kin pick up the trail
ag'in. Thar’s no tellin‘ which course the skunks tuck arter
leavin’ the river.”

“ But you do not contemplate turning back ?"

.“ Wagh ! yer knows me better’n that, youngster.”

“In heaven’s name, then, what are your intentions ?"

“ Don't git excited, Edward. 'I‘lm-‘s plenty of time ’twixt
this and mornin‘ to hold a confab on the subject. "Faint
plain to me yit what we're goin’ to do, but ’tain‘t goin’ to
take this wolf long to make up his mind—yon kin fetch n‘p
yer bottom nugget on that. Hyur's what's been in prcd‘tcki-
ments ’fore to-night, and nobody knows better’n you—”

“ That Adam Gritf's cunning is surpassed by none on the

plains,” said Edward, finishing the sentence in consonance
with his own mind. “ I am anxious to hear what you have
to say.” '
» The two men now entered into an earnest conversation,
which lasted for several minutes, and the result of the brief
deliberation was a decision suggested in the beginning by
Adam.

0n the approach of dawn they were to cross the stream,
and then, instead of continuing their westward course, they
were to turn to the south-west. Following this direction,

‘both knew that, after a ride of some fifteen miles, they would

find themselves in the most broken country to be found any-
where on the plains, where huge rocks, towering elifl‘s, intri-
cate passes, gorges, cafions and caverns abounded. Adam's
reason for proposing this direction was a belief that Turk
Redby’s hiding-place was somewhere among the “ breaks,"
and that the captors of Colonel Howarth and Marian—who
ever they might be—were employed by Redby.

“ Have you given up the opinion that the Specter Riders
are the captors l!” inquired Edward. ‘

“ Not by a long shot," was the reply.

“ Then you think those mysterious rovers arc in Bedby’g
omployl’”, ‘ I I '   "H

firmwares-:73:
\ . L‘ 7

 

54 m. enema 3mm

“ I does.”

“ Still you think they are spirits, and he a mortal?"

“Never any thing more sat-tin. Lord bless you, boy, I
b’lieve the dis’pearance of them three men war caused bv
these same skeletons, and that they war directed to do it by
that outlaw.”

“ You think their disappearance, also, is to be attributed to
him ‘3"

The trapper turned square upon the young man, and said:

“See ’yur,lad, I reckon as how you recollects when the
kurnel had Turk Redby punished at the whippin’-post ‘1’”

“ To be sure.”

I “ Wal, do yer mind who done the whippin’ ‘3"

Edward looked down at the ground to think. In a mo
ment he raised his eyes quickly, and gave vent to a prolonged
whistle of surprise.

“ I remember now,” he said, excitedly. “ The three men
appointed to whip the villain were those who are now miss-
ing—Dean Potter, Simon Dawes and Joe Crampton l”

“ That’s it," said Adam, coolly. “Now ef you’ll think
ag’in, maybe you'll recollect how he looked at them fellers,
when he swore we should all hear from him ag'in' 1'"

“ I do——this, I firmly believe, is a solution to the mystery
enshrouding their disappearance. I did not think of it be-
fore." '

“ I guess nobody thought of it, 'cept me,” observed Adam,
“ else they’d been sartin that Turk Redby war the man to
blame.”

“ Still, you will not believe that Turk Redhy did the work,

himself ?" ~

“ Wagh l he couldn’t make ’em vanish that way—nobody
but sperrits could do that. He controls the sperrits. Now
hyvur's the kurnel and the gal—they’ve gone the same route
—skeletons done it, in course, but they done it at that skunk’e
command. He wants Marian, you know, for a wife, and I
reckon he‘ll slit the kurnel’s weasantl, ’cause he war the one
as ordered the flOggin’ to he did. L‘ook—it’s gittin’ kinder
light over titer in the east." _

The eastern sky gave evidence that day was breaking,and,
hastily kindling a fire, the hunters prepared their simple

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   

_‘; ,u,

1

“.5, 15s

  

m srncmns AGAIN. 53

morning meal, allowing themselves but little time to disputes
it.

Before the sun had risen they mounted their animals and
crossed the river, which, at this point, was shallow enough
to render crossing a matter of no inconvenience whatever.
It was a beautiful morning; the air was clear, the sky cloud-
less, and the temperature c001 but invigorating. A stillness
like that of the tomb brooded over all, and nothing could
be heard save that indescribable voice of the solitude, fre-
quently termed the breathing of nature, which makes the
very silence seem audible.

On reaching the west bank of the stream, the men paused

to look about them. The ground was scarred by thousands
upon thousands of buffalo-tracks, which demolished what
little grass there had been, and left (lust instead. North and
south the prairie extended beyond the reach of human eyes,
and to the west it grew billowy, the waves rising one above
another till they grew imperceptible in the distance;

Our trailers were about to ride on, when all at once Adam
gave utterance to a startled ejaculation, and again tightened
the rein.

“ Look 1” exclaimed he. “ Look, youngster l"

He lifted his hand, and pointed down the river.

Edward looked in that direction, and saw the cause of the
old scout‘s alarm. About a half-mile below the point where
they had crossed, a peninsular sand-hm- extended from the
shore almost to the center of the stream. On this bar won
three horsemen, all side by side and sitting' erect in their

- saddles, having ridden out there evidently for the purpose
of letting their horses drink, since the latter all had their-

noses to the water. It required only one look to identify
them. They were the Specter Riders. Even at the distance
of a half-mile this fact was distinguishable, the purity of the
atmosphere assisting the eyesight. They were not so far
away but that the naked, shining bones could be seen, to say
nothing of the white sheet that was wrapped carelessly
around every one of the fleshless figures.

When the animals had quenched their thirst, they turned
about and walked back to the mainland.
,. Here, as if their masters exercised no control over mm,

 

    
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
    
 
   
   
 
 
    
   
 
 
  
 

 

 

 

   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
   
   
   
  
   
  
   
  
  

 

gm mile they kept their animals at a steady, monotonous

THE SPRCTEB RIDERS.

they began to move slowly hither and thither, as if search-
ing for grass. The Spectcrs sat like stoics on their backs.
apparently paying no attention to each other, nor to any
thing, allowing the brutes to take their own course.

Presently one of the horses threw up his head, flung his
neels into the air, gave vent to a loud neigh and dashed
away at the top of his speed. The others followed his ex-
ample, and all went scouring over the prairie together.

In a few minutes they sunk out of sight beyond a distant
ridge. '

CH APTER XI.
'rrm wan-ram.

ADAM Germ stroked his gray heard, and scowrea.
“ Things, is gittin’ too confounded mystiflcatious to suit

“this h'ar,” said he, still looking toward the spot where the

Specter Riders were seen a few moments ago.

“ It is very strange," assented Westlake.

“ Them spooks is follerin’ us," declared Adam.

“Indeed! I thought we were following them,” returned
Edward. “ You can hardly believe now that those singular
fellows are the captors of Marion and her father?"

“ Sartin I believe it. Dung it, boy, they ain‘t human bein's,
as has to poke around over the kentry like we do. They
kin travel jist as fast or as slow as they please. In course
they’ve tuck the prisoners to Turk Itcdby‘s den, and left ’eu
that.” -

no manner concerned in the capture of Marion and her father,
nor in the disappearance of the men who had gone before."
“Wal, let’s be off, kumrid,” said the trapper, as he glanced
back over his shoulder. “ The sun’s comin’ up, and we hnin't
made no time yit. Come, Sarah Jane l”
They turned their faces toward the southwest, and struck
into an easy gallop across the hoof trodden plain. ' Milevaf-

Edward smiled. In his mind the Specter Riders were in" l

u’ r a;

 
 

 
 

.I' 5  '

rm; BUFFALO-WAwa. 5‘3

gait. except when they were compelled to pass through a
prairie-dog “town,” where the ground was perforated with
innumerable holes, made by these little inhabitants of the
plains. Through such treacherous places they were prompted
by prudence to move slowly. ,

Nothing more was said on the subject of the Specter Ri-
ders, though their thoughts were about equally divided be:
tween them and the Captives. Edward grew restless and
impatient when he thought of Marian in Turk Redby’s power,
and his constant fear was that they would be too late to save
her. '

“ If she is alive," he said to himself, “ I will rescue her
from so loathsome a captivity, or lay down my own life in
the effort. If she is dead or dishonored, my revenge will be
terrible indeed.”

His eyes flashed, and his fingers closed involuntarily upon
his rifle, as he thought of what the villain’s depravity might
drive him to do.

After awhile, as they were riding along in silence, Adam
Grifi‘ suddenly stopped his mare. Unable to see the slightest
cause for such an act, Edward also drew rein, and looked in-
quiringly at the trapper. Adam, however, had his face turned
the other way, looking at something in that direction.

03' to the right of their path, at a distance of about fifty
yards, was a bufi‘alo-wallow—a huge basin in the earth, mea-
suring, perhaps, twelve feet in diameter, and in shape almost.
round. Such places as this, made by buffaloes, and used by
them chiefly in the spring of the year, are frequently seen on
the vast plains east of the Rocky Mountains. Generally they
are of suflicient depth to be made use of by white hunters
when pursued by Indians, and indeed many a successful re-
sistance has been made against a large band of savages, by
parties taking refuge behind an earthwork of this descrip
tion.

Itpwas this buffalo-wallow that had attracted the trapper’s
attention. Wondering how an object of so little importance
could have caused him to halt, Edward asked :

“ What now, Adam ?"

Adam turned to his interrogator. There was an expression

_ on his rugged, visage, which Edward had saw a score of times

 
   
  
    
  
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
    
   
  
    
   
  
 
 
   
 
 
  
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
   

'HIE srnc'nm monks.

before, and the import of which he instantly recognized.‘ It
told as plainly as words that there was danger at hand. Our
hero dropped the reins and seized his rifle.

“ What is it, Adam Y" he asked again.

“ ’Sh i” cautioned the scout, raising his hand. “ Thar’s
suukthin’ in that waller over thar.”

“ Do you know what it is ?" inquired the young man, look-
ing in vain for the “ sunkthiu’ ” mentioned.

“ No," was the reply. “ I don’t. I only ketched a glimpse

look at that mud down thar in front of you; don’t you see
them moccasin-tracks ?"

“I do-—and they are fresh.”

“ Jist so. Thar’s Injuns somewhar nigh, and ef I 'ain‘t
powerful mistook— Hellol look yonder 1”

At that moment a dark, colossal form rose into view from
behind the rim of {the wallow. and walked deliberately out
on the level land, where it stopped and looked at the hun-
ters.

Edward threw his head back, and burst into a hearty
laugh.

“ An old bufi‘alo bull i” exclaimed he, “ and you, one of the
oldest hunters on the border, thought it was a party of red-
skins.”

The trapper was vexed.

; “ Hold yer clapper, boy,” he commanded peremptorily,

 “ and wait till yer knows which one (if us is right. I thought
 you’d seen too many Injun tricks to be tuck in by this 'un."
These words had the effect of checking Edward's mirth.

~: He became grave in an instant, as he took a second look at
,r I} ' I the creature.

Just then the buffalo, apparently alarmed by the sight of
the men, turned about and made as if he Would refiner tne
wallow

“ Ne yer dOn’t, old bull l” muttered Adam, raising his gun
“ Yer don’t git this coon to foller ye. Thar—take that i”

g The report of his rifle accémpanied these last words.

‘_ i There was a shriek, loud and unearthly. The buffalo stag
‘ gored forward,~and pitched headlong to the ground, tumin ;
- wrong-side out as'he tell i Quick as thought a1 hhlt‘ naked 1--

 

of some dark thing, but I s'picion thar‘s reds hid thar. Jist'

,,4

 
 
  
   
  
  
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
    
   
    
  
    

l DWENIN G WAR-W HOOP.

dlan jumped up and darted into the wallow, where hervsn-
ished like a‘strenk of lightning ; while .another remained ly-
ing outside, weltering in his blood.

The artifice employed by the Indians on this occasion was
an old 'one. Probably desiring to capture therwhites, instead
of kill them, two savages had disguised themselves in a buf-

faloahide, the trophy of a recent chase, and had made an ef-_

for t, as it seemed, to draw the hunters nearer. The trapper’s
uuerring aim had sent one of the maskeis to render up his
final account, while the other had fled to shelter before a
second shot could be tired.

Crack! crack! crack! went several rifles at this juncture,
and the bullets whistled by our friends, uncomfortably close
to their persons. At the same moment a deafening war-whonp
rent the air, and four athletic savages leaped from their
covert and rushed toward their intended victims, brandishing
their weapons over their heads and yelling like madmen.

Edward’s pony was shot. He saw his head drop, and felt
him falling. With astonishing quickness he disengaged his
feet from the stirrups and jumped, just as the poor little mus-
tang fell, quivering in the agonies of death. Then his rifle
leaped to his shoulder and covered an enemy. The trigger
fell, and the foremost savage dropped in his tracks.

With vengeful shrieks the remaining three rushe’d upon the
man who had slain their leader, and for a moment it seemed
that Edward’s doom was sealed. But, with a celerity that
was peculiarly his own, the trapper was down from Sarah
Jane’s back in a twinkling, and his gaunt person interposed
between his friend and enemies. His gun was empty, bl"- be
grasped it by the barrel with both hands, dealt one tremen-
doua blow with the heavy stock, and an Indian’s brains were
scattered to the four winds. The gun fell from his hands,
and, snatching his knife from his belt, he sprung upon an-
other of the assailants. There was a gleam of steel, 3 pierc-
lugcry. a faint' struggle and another spirit was freed from its
earthly tenement.

Only one Indian remained alive. The last they saw of him
he was about a mile away. running with wonderful velocity
with no prospect as yet 01' an abatement in his speed.

v

 

 

 

    

 

0 ran srnc'ma moans.

“ Wal, youngster," said Adam, coolly wiping the blood from
h'u knife, “ I reckon we’re boss of the situation, ain’t we ?"

“ I believe we are,” replied Edward, with glowing face.
“ Adam, I’ve seen you fight Indians before today, but I never
saw you kill two, with a change of Weapons, in so short a
space of time."

The yellow snag became conspicuous, and a low, crackling
sound told that Adam was laughing.

“ Did rub ’cm out kinder spry-like," he said, with a careless
glance at his bloody victims. “ They’ll know hatter’n to run
ag’in’ us another time, won’t they, Edward ? We knocked the
breath out of four on ’em in less’n two minutes. Devil take
the skunks, they’ve got thar fingers in the wrong man's ha’r,
when they try to come the bufller trick over Adam Grifl'.

Wal,” he added, after a pause, “ we mought as well be movin"

on. Don’t keer ’bout stayin’ byur longer than needcessary.”

“There is no likelihood of me moving on," said Edward,
“unless I go afoot. Those wretches have killed my horse.”

“ Is he dead ‘3"

“Dead as a door-nail.”

Adam bent over the lifeless pony.

" Got his cheeks, sure's shootin‘," he said. “ Shot right
through the upper story.”

“ 1 suppose that ball was meant for me,” observed Edward.

“ Not ef I knows any thing about it,” declared the other.
“ It's too well aimed far that. I guess the cusses wanted
to raptur’ us.”

‘ He leaned on his rifle, and looked at the dead mustang
with a thoughtful air. .

“ It's a bad go, youngster," said he, with a shake of his
head. " How we‘re to git another hoss, is beyond my guess.
I opine it can’t. he did. I reckon the only thing We kin do
is to ride Sarah Jane by turns. Helloi look at that! Thor’s
a boss 1"

A little distance‘from where they stood, strange to say, a
horse made its appearance, careering over the prairie. It
was a beautiful creature, white as the driven snow. with long
tail and mane, and proudly arching neck. ‘ "
“ My God i"- cried Edward, turning pale; “ it is Cherokee 3"

 
   

fly."

it“ ” ‘

mmmms nnsm 0!

CHAPTER XII.
'rrm WRITING IN moon.

Arm he was right. Beyond a doubt it was no other than
the handsome steed, Cherokee, riderless though he was, and
unincumhered by saddle or bridle.

“ It’s him, or I’m a buzznrd l" ejaculated the trapper, fas-
tening his keen orbs upon him. “He’s turned into a wild
hoss ag’in. By the Lord! it makes things look mighty s.’pi-
cious to see him canterin’ around all by hisself."

“ He left the fort with Marian on his back," said Edward,
trembling with excitement, “ and now he is alone. His ap-
pearance at this moment suggests a horrible thought.”

“ Call him, youngster.”

Edward put his fingers to his mouth, and gave vent to a
peculiar whistle. Instantly Cherokee came to a halt, and
looked at the two men with ears erect.

His master repeated the whistle. It was sufllcient; the
recognition was complete now, and with a joyful neigh the
white steed shook his flowing name, and came trotting to-
ward his young master with a look of extraordinary intelli-
gence.

Our hero went forward to meet him. With a low whin-
ny, that expressed his joy as well as words, Cherokee came
up and laid his head on the young man’s shoulder, while the
latter patted his snowy neck and smoothed the long mane.

I All at once, Edward sprung back as if the horse's touch
had poisoned him, and gave utterance to aloud cxclam -
tion. His cheek blanched. his lower jaw dropped, and he '
dashed his hand across his eyes, as if inclined to believe they
had deceived him. He looked at Adam Grifl“ and pointed
at the horse. as though he were dumb and had to communi.
cate by signs. A few strides of those long, dangling legs,
And Adam was beside his companion. '

“ What's the matter, boy i” he. asked, in surprise.

Edward again pointed at the horse.

“Look,” said he, “ and you will see what is the matter.”

 

 

 

i '
L
l:
t
L
if ,
l

t?
l

2'3



 

 

Adam looked, and he saw. He also started back, and
cried, “ Good Lord t" while his eyes flew open to their widest
extent. I

No wonder, for on the smooth, white side of the horse.
written with blood, and in large, distinct characters, was the
single word, “ HELP i” That. was all; not another mark
could be found anywhere on the animal’s velvet coat; but
that one word, traced. as it evidently had been, with blood,
was terribly significant in itself. It could be explained om
ly in one way. It was a message from Marian or her father,
who had resorted to this means, in the absence of all others,
to inform their friends that they were in a dangerous posiv
tion, and desired assistance.

Edward shuddered as he looked at it. ‘

“Their need of help must. be great,” said he, “ if they
used their own blood—as they undoubtedly did—in writing
this brief petition. Poor Marian ! poor Marian l"

“ Cheer up, boy." said Adam, who felt that the duty of
a consoler was incumbent on him. “This ain’t no time to
give up. You ought to be kinder glad that this thing has
happened.”

“ And why, pray ?’,

“ In the fast place, it shows they’re lucky enough to be
still alive; in the second place. it provides you with whose
at the very time you need it most—"

“And in the third place," interrupted Edward, with a
smile, “the fact. that Cherokee comes from the south-west
proves that: you were right. in choosi g this direction."

“ Jist so.”

The saddle and bridle were taken from the dead pony, and
put upon Cherokee.

“ We’ll jist leave these carkidges whar they be," said Adam,-
“ and ef the wolves and vultures kin find any pleasure in sick
rotten food, they’re welcome. We lmin’t got time to put the
skunks under ground, and I’m doubtin’ e! they’d benefit by it
at we had.”

They mounted, and tunnel their backs on the sickeninng

scene, Edward, for one, being glad to leave it. Continuing
in the same course they had pursued since leaving their camp-
lagoth of the preceding night, they urged their animals

 

 

 

s » ucomo nausea. I

Into a swift and steady cantor, toward the rugged, rocky
ledges that loomed up lit the south-western sky. With Che-
rokee between his knees, Edward felt more at home, and
more hopeful, than he had felt since leaving Fort Binkley,
but. whenever he thought of the fair burden the faithful steed

I had carried away from the fort, he felt his blood growing

cold, wit-h an almost helpless dread.

To him there was something terrible in that laconic mes-

sage—that one word,“‘ HELP l" written with blood on the
horse’s side—and there was no relief for the painful sus:
pense he endured, as long as it should remain unexplain-
able.
' As they neared the breaks, they found their way growing
exceedingly (lifilcult to travel, and in consequence, they were
compelled to move slowly, and with great cure. Both animals
Were sure-footed, and showed that they were accustomed to
journeying through mountainous regions; so there was little
fear, though some danger at times, of falling from high
places.

They struck a buffalo-trail, which they followed implicitly,
conscious from experience, that by this method they would
be enabled to pass diflicult places in safety, and with a cer-
tainty of soon being led into a smoother road. They were
almost encompassed by high, perpendicular cliffs of black

I'trap-rock, and far above them shapeless, jagged masses were

piled up to a dizzy hight, almost reaching the clouds. At
‘first, as they proceeded, they were kept constantly on the
ascent, butat length, still allowing themselves to be guided
by the butl'alo-trail, they began to go down.

Dark crevices, deep descents, and narrow, sinuous paths.
winding raround 'rocks at an appalling distance from the
ground below, were passed over in safety, though with great
pains and skill ; and several times the riders found it neces-
sary to dismount and lead their animals. The latters’ feet,
however, could be trusted where their own could not, and they
kepttheirsaddles most of the time. ,

Presently they emerged into a deep caiion, presenting a
smooth, unbroken floor, as far as they could see. It was but
little past the middle of the day, and yet it was gloomlor
thantwiljght in the cam 11. .

 

 

 

    

THE SPECTEB RIDERS.

The latter was narrow, and on either hand the vast walk
' towered toward the sky, coming so nearly together at the
top, that. little light was admitted to the depths below.
“Wal, hyur, we be,” muttered the trapper, reining in his
mare, and turning her half around.

“ Surely you do not intend to halt here ?” said Edward,‘

with a smile. “ We are no better off as yet than when we
started.”

“ We ain’t goin’ to halt, but I reckon we mought as well do
that as move on. Our friends and thnr captors may be miles
from this p'int, and it lonks mightily like a wild goose-chase
to hunt ’em among these hills and cliffs.”

“ Didn’t you think of that before we entered the breaks 2"

“ Sartin, but thar was no help fur it.”

“ We might have found the trail and followed it, and thus
entered at the point they did.”

“ Precious little trail we‘d ’a’ found among them rocks, I
take it. The Specter Riders know what they're doin’.”

“Pshaw l" exclaimed Edward, impatiently, “I wish you
would give up the idea that the Specter Riders are the
captors.”

“ Wal, then, s’pose it’s Turk Redhy ; he ain’t. green."

“ You think he has anticipated pursuit Y" ‘

“ In course.”

I “And took the precaution to hide the trail as he neared
his den i?”

“ He ain't sharp ef he didn’t. It ’ud be the easiest
thing in the world kiverin’ a trail in this rocky re«
gion.”

“ What else do you think i"

“ I think they come in by the same route we did. I think
we’re t‘ollerin’ in that tracks.”

“ Indeed t”

“ Yes, but tlmr‘s no sartninty about it.”

“ Aha l what's this 1’" suddenly cried Edward, jumping
down from his horse’s back, and darting forward a few
steps.

He paused, stooped, and picked up something that was lying
on the ground. ‘ ' ‘

“What's to pay, now i” asked the trapper. in surprise.

  

  

 

A row. - I “4

Edward approached, holding something up to view, with
an air of triumph. It was a locket—a small, golden locket,
with a. hook attacked, which was evidently the remnant of a
chain.

“Did you find that, boy 1’" asked Adam, getting down from
his mare’s back, to look at the trinket.

“ To be sure I did,” replied the other, jnyously.

“ And did you ever see it afore ?"

“ A hundred times! It is the property of Marian Ho-
warth."

“ Sure's shootin‘ P"

“ There can be no mistake. She has often showed it to
me, and told me how highly she valued it, above everything
else. This locket contains the picture of her mother, who is
dead.”

He opened it, and showed the picture to Adam.

“ Wal.” said the scout, “ that proves We’re on the right
track, and I reckon it won’t be long ’fore we find Redby’a

 den. They‘ve passed this way, that‘s settled, and now we’ve
got to push right on, keep our poepers peeled, and be as cau-
tious as we kin. Ef we should blunder onto ’ein, a couple of
shots would ‘settle our hash in the flap of a buzzard’s wing,
and one man mought give us them ef he kotched us nap-
, pin’. We must go slow. Maybe Redhy hain’t got nobody
1-. to back him, and maybe he has. Ef so, I hope they’re mor-
. ., tals. Foller me, and be quiet.”
' They mounted once more, and rode silently on through
the deep, gloomy gorge.

' 1? CHAPTER XIII.
AMONG Tim BREAKS.

V Au. at once Adam Grifi', who was some yards in advance,
came to a dead halt. Edward did the same, and sat looking
at him, waiting to be told the cause of the halt. Adam was
gazing upward.

Instead of looking back, the trapper was seen to raise his

 

 

  

   
    
   
    
    
   

 

 
 

A map“ 

   
  
    
   
    
  
  
  
 
   

 

  

 

 

     
 

THE BPEC'I'ER‘ RIDERS.

rifle and point it toward the sky, as it about to shoot some
thing on the rocks above.

Our hero waited for the report, but it didn’t come. After
holding it to his shoulder for a full minute, the trapper
lowered his gun, and as if undecided. .

Then, turning in his saddle, he 'directed his companion, by
a motion of his hand, to approach. The young hunter rode
torward, and in a moment was beside the other.

“ Did you see enemies?” he whispered.

"No," was the answer, “ didn’t: see a human bein', nor
any thing to be afeard on. Look—don’t yer see that little
animal 'way up thar to’ards the top of the clifi‘? Thar! did
yer see it move f"

He was pointing. Edward’s eyes followed the course of
his finger, and far above them, toward the summit of the walls
that hemmed them in, he saw an object that had the appear-
ance of a small animal, standing on the very edge of a pro-
jecting rock.

“ Does yer see it 1’“

“I do.”

“ Does yer know what ’tis t" .

“ If ’I could have the advantage of ‘a little daylight I think
I would have no hesitation in pronouncing its name,” replied
the young man, continuing to look, “ but as it is, I can only
guess. I believe, however, that it is a Rocky Mountain
goat.”

“ That’s jist what it is,” returned Adam, smiling. “ When
I fust see’d him I thought I'd fotch him down fur dinner, but
us soon as I drawed head on the cuss I changed my mind.
I thought the shot mought be heard by somebody as had no
hizness to hear it, so I concluded to let the goat live.”

“ I thought,” began Edward, “that you—”

He stopped abruptly, and his eyes dilated. The cause of

t the interruption was the crack of a rifle, very distinct yet

seemingly far away. It echoed and reechoed among the
clifi‘s and canons around them. causing the horses, as well as
themselves, to prick up their ears with a startled air.

The hunters exchanged looks, as if with the expectation of
reading the explanation in each other’s face. Before a single
word could be uttered, however, they were startled afresh by

~' 43’“?!

 
  

 
       
   

 

 

'rnn . MOUNTAIN com. 0?

the sound of a body rushing through the air, and a dull

' thump as it struck the ground close at handl

They looked down. There at their horses’ feet lay the
dead body of the goat—the very goat which they had been
looking at but a moment before. as it stood on the projecting
rock far above them. An instant ago it was alive and thought-
less of danger; now it was silent in death, crushed and bleed-
ing from its long fall.
loss to know how this had happened, but for no longer.

“ He’s shot,” said Adam, bending over his mare's neck to
look more closer at the goat. “ lle’s shot right through the
noddle. Ef you'll look clus, you kin see Whar the bullet hit
him.”

“ I see,” replied the other. “ He is shot, and obviously by
no other weapon than that. whose report we just heard.”

“ Good Lord! Look 2"

Just then a small dark figure darted into view, from be-
hind a gigantic rock at some distance from where the goat
{had fallen, and came bounding toward them with a gun in
hand.

Suddenly the figure stopped. It saw the .two horsemen

" standing silently there in the pass, and it recoiled with an

appearance of the utmost alarm. Then it wheeled as quick
as lightning, and started to fly from. the strange intruders.
But nothing could have been quicker than the movements of
the trapper at that moment. His long rifle leaped to his
shoulder, as if it were endowed with life, and covered the
figure with a deadly 'aim. '
“ Halt l" he thundered, and his stentorian voice rung through
the gorge with startling distinctuess. “ Halt, you little imp, or
v u’re meat for the Wolves in the switch of a ntule’s tail 1”
The “little imp " did pause, and glance back with a terri-
ded air. Then he run on two or three steps further, stopped
again, turned square around and stood stock still, with his
face toward the trapper.
“ Come hyur,” commanded Adam, sternly.
The figure hesitated—wok one step—and hesitated. again.
“ Strut this way i” cried Adam, “ or may 1 be shot myself
a! I don’t put. a loophole cl’ar through you." ,
It was enough. The diminutive goat-slayer seemed to re-

For a few seconds both were at a.

  

1r

     
      
   
   
 

     
   
    
  
 
    
   
  
 
 
 
   
  
    
  
   

 

 
    

   

  

 

'rnn sesame smarts.

gal-d implicit obedience the part of prudence on this ocean.”
and he approached without further hesitation.

“ By heaven 1" exclaimed Edward, as the fellow came near,
“ it is the Indian dwarf, Solomon l"

“ Waghl I knowed it. when he fust come in sight,” said
Adam, lowering his gun. “ That’s why I stopped him."

It. was, indeed, Solomon. liis ugly weazen fnce expressed
nothing but terror and conscious guilt, and the angry looks
bestowed upon him by the white hunters were not calculated;-
to put his tortured mind at rest. As he came up, he glanced
furtively from one to the other, and then looked down at the
goat without a word.

“ Did you kill that goat ?” asked the old scout, gruflly.

The Indian nodded without looking up.

The trapper regarded him for awhile in silence, and then,
with an angry frown, demanded:

“ What are you in this part of the kentry fur '1’”

“ Me live here now,” said Solomon, attempting to put on a '
bold face.

“Do, eh? What did you leave Fort Binkley fur ?”

“ Ughl me no like to live dere. Like pale-faces much—
like wild life better. Like do prairies—like mountainselike
much hunt—no like to be tame. Wagh 1”

“Give that clapper a holiday, you pesky lyin‘ imp, or I'll
clip yer skulp-lock l" ejaculated the trapper, in a rage. “ Do
you s’pose you kin pull the wool over Adam Grid’s peepers?
When yer does, jist let me know. Got tired livin’ at the
fort, did yer? Dod rot yer hide! yer’ll want to git hack
thar 'fore you kin ever muster up curridge to go. The peo-
ple wouldn’t leave enough of you to grease a baby‘s hn'r, ei
you‘d show yer painted mug inside them walls, and I don"
know but I better tan yer hide a trifle, jist to show you what
opinion I have of you. You kin tremble now, but I opine
you kin do it with better cause ’fore long. You’re a blasted
little traitor, and you desavve to be strung up. The whites
served you a good turn when yer own people kicked you out
of thar lodges, nnd this is the way you return it.”

Solomon shrunk back a little at this outburst, and looked
more frightened than before.

“Lay down yer gun,” commanded the scout.

 

, /
A mrron amour. 09

The dwarf dropped his gun without a word of remon-
nuance.

“ Et‘ you’ve got other weepins, throw ’em away." '

He brought; to light a knife and a hatchet, and cast them
upon the ground with commendable docility.

“ Now you’re in our power," continued Adam, looking
fiercely at him. “ I reckon yer knows what we ought to d '
with yer ? You’ve turned traitor to yer best friends, you had

. at hand in the captur’ of the kurnel and his gal, and you’re
30in’ dirty work for that blasted hell-hound, Turk Redby.”

“ No, no,” returned the Indian, hastily; “ me no do work
for Turk Redby. Who told you so ?"

“ Shet up! Yer can’t fool me. ’Twnr only the day More
yesterday that you tried to carry off Marian Howarth, and
you told her then as how Turk Redby hired you to do it.
Hain’t furgot that. have yer? I see yer hain’t, and you’ll
find out that’s others remembers it. besides you, afore we‘re
done with you. I s'pect we’ll have to try the strength of
this rope with you," concluded the trapper, looking molly
down at the lariat suspended at his saddle-bow.

Solomon ceased trembling at once, drew himself up to his ‘
fullest higltt and folded his arms over his chest. He firmly
believed that his time had come—that his captors would
show no mercy whatever in the infliction of his punishment
—that death, in the horrible form of hanging by the neck,
was to be administered to him—and he immediately assumed
that air of stoical indifference, proverbial with his race. He
was outwardly calm, but. his thin lips were compressed, and
his black, snake-like orbs gleamcd with an unnatural bright-

‘ ness.
- Adam Grifl‘ could not repress a smile

“ Are y'ou ready to kick the bucket ?” he asked.

“ Solomon never ’fmid to die," was the hearty rejoinder
_ “ Bosh l you’re skeered cl‘nr out of yer wits. Tell me
you’re not afeard to die. Wul. it’s the natur’ of reds to put
on airs when the time comes to turn up thar toes, though
I’ll sw'ar every one on ’em is cowards. Afore we stretch
yer juggler, howsomever, you may jist tell us whar Red
and the captives are 1’” ‘

Solomon. smiled contemptuously.

 

 

 

 

m SYECTEB RIDERS.

“ Nebber tell dat,” he said, firmly.

“ Cut yer throat, of you don’t.”

“ Sooner be throat out than hang.”

Adam laughed quietly, for, to tell the truth. his mind was
made up how he shouli act. at the first appearance of Solo~
men, and had been talking of revenge and punishment merel;
to frighten the traitor. Having proceeded to an extremit},

n that strain, he now became serious.

“ See hyur, Injun,” he began, sliding out of his saddle and
standing before the dwarf, “ you’ll do well to pick yer ears
now, fur I've got a proposition to make. I reckon you’d
ruther live than die ?”

The savage brightened up, and listened eagerly.

“ I take it fur settled that you’d ruther live than die," pur
sued the scout. “Now, ef you’ll tell whar Turk Redby is,
what Colonel Howarth and the gal is, and how many assis-
tants the outlaw has got, we’ll let you go scot-free."

“ No kill 1?” asked the Indian, excitedly.

“ Won’t hurt you,” was the emphatic response.

“ Good I” ~ '

“ You agree, then ‘P"

The Indian nodded assent. ’

“ All right,” said Adam. “Git down 05 your boss, Ed-
ward, and let’s make a dinner of this goat, while we hear
what the red-skin has to say. We’ve got the right thread in
our clutches now, and we’ll do some tall pullin‘ ’fore we
let go."

The horses were hitdhed, the deepest recess in View was
selected for the fire, which was speedily kindled, and the
three men were soon enjoying a repeat prepared from the

hoicest portions of the goat.

 

Iowxox's near.

0 H A P T E R X I V .
A DINNER PARTY INTERRUPTED.

bl» conseuaence of Solomon’s ignorance of the language
we will undertake to render into comprehensible English the
information drawn from him by the two hunters. He gave
it while they were eating, and the whites were not nearly so
interested in the food before them as they were in the nar-
rator.

In the first place, according to the story here told, Turk
Redby had returned to the neighborhood of Fort Binkley,
both to obtain the revenge he had sworn to have, and to
steal Marian Howarth from her home. He was accompanied
by a man named Dan Sykes, who was as great a villain as
Redby himself, and it was these two wretches, together with
Solomon, who had captured Colonel Howarth and daughter
on the preceding day. As this fact was made known to our
friends, Edward gave Adam :1 look of triumph, and Adam
withdrew the blame which his superstitious ideas had prompted
him to settle upon the Specter Riders.

It will be remembered that blood was found by the trail-
ers, on the spot where the attack .had been made. This had
been caused by a shot from Turk Redby, aimed at Colonel
Howarth with deadly intent. The colonel had fallen from

v his horse, and at first was thought to be dead, as the- blood
flowed copiously from his forehead, but an examination had
shown that he was only stunned. The bullet, instead of
penetrating the skull, had plowed its way beneath his scalp

, and come out near the top of his head, inflicting a painful,
but by no means dangerous wound. He was speedily resus-
citated, his head bandaged, and was then made a prisoner
with his daughter. ‘ _

_ Redby admired the white steed, Cherokee, and was not

. long in deciding that it should change places with his own.

‘f ‘l. V ,But, during the night after reaching the den in the breaks, ,
 ' Colonel Howarth succeeded in freeing himself from thode

 

 

 

 
  

that bound him, and made an effort toward escape, evidently-
with the hope of reaching Fort Binkley, and returning with
sufficient aid for the rescue of the girl, and the annihilation
of the desperadoes. But for his wound he might have suc-
ceeded; as it was, on reaching the spot where the horses were
grouped together, he found himself too weak to mount any
of them, and growing weaker every moment. This was
caused by his wound bleeding afresh, it having begun without
his knowledge some time before. His senses were nearly gone,
but be conceived a simple plan, which he hastily put into exe-
cution. Lifting his hand to his head, he wet his fingers with
his own blood and wrote the word “ Help l” in large letters
on Cherokee’s snowy side, setting the animal free, with a vague
idea that he would carry the message to his master, and thus
bring somebody to the assistance of Marian and himself. He
had no sooner accomplished this than he fell fainting on the
ground.

The desperatio was highly enraged by the loss of his prize,
the white charger, and beyond a doubt would have murdered
the colonel had not Dan Sykes, his companion, interfered.

Upon being asked what the intentions of the outlaws were
regarding the prisoners, Solomon replied that he could not
say positively, but believed that the colonel was to be put to
death in some horrible manner.

“ And Marian i” asked Edward, eagerly.

“She no die," returned the Indian, with a malicious grin.
“She be de wife of Turk."

“ Never, while I live I" cried Edward, vehemently. “ Aho-
minable wretchl if he harms a hair of that innocent girl’s
need, or forces her to act contrary to her will, by Heaven he
shall suffer death for it, if it is twenty years from now i”

“ Hynr's a grizzly’s claw on that, youngster,” said the trap-
per, earnestly,“ he extended his hand, “ and I opine the
bloody devil had better go under whether hehurts her or not.
He‘s done enough, cuss his rotten liide,-and ef he thinks'he
kin make a target out of the kurnel without gittin’ his ear
warped, he must be out of his head." .

“ What shall we do Y” ‘ y
_ “ Wal,.as to that, we’ll have to wait till we find out who!
they be store we do any thing.” ‘ ’4'

   

 

 
 
    
  
   
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 
 

     
 

  

it

 

  
   
  
    
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
  
   
 
 
 
   
   
 
     
    
   

to his fulllhigh: asquickly as u serpent could uncoil itself.

A vows sun A. error. 78

 

“Very true. Where can we find them‘ Solomon 1"

“Me can‘t tell," repiled Solomon; “me show—me take
you to de place ——me can't tell.”

flYou mean you haven‘t sufficient command of Words to
direct us to the outluw's abode, but that you are ready to lead
us to it? Well, that is enmith suppose. We shall not
want to attempt the rescue until after nightfall, shall we,
Adam ?"

' " No,” replieJ the trapper, thoughtfully, as he swallowed _
the last Innuthfn' :E his dinner, and began to fill his pipe. “ I 1

never did b‘lieve in rushin’ matters of this sort, though I'll
Bw’ar nobody’s more ag‘iu' losin‘ time than I be. Thar'll be a
better show fur success, after dark, that's sartin."

“Until night, then, we will wait, and under cover of the
darkness something must be done."

“ But," continued Adam, fastening his keen orbs upon the.

Indian, “ thar ain't no use in that cuss tellin’ us as how he
can’t direct us to Redby’s hidiu‘ place, ’thout goiu‘ hisself,
’cause I know it’s all moonshine. He kin of he wants to,
and he shau‘t be our guide to-night, that's all. He ain't to be
trusted. See ‘yur, red-skin, you kin jist tell us now or not at
all, whar we‘ll be most likely to find the cnptives, and let me
remark at this p‘iut that you won't profit a great deal by tell-
in' a lie.” .

Solomon looked somewhat confused, and gazed steadfastly
at the ground before replying. But, conscious that there was
no help for it, he said: ” ,

“ Me tell best me kin. No do good—no talk pale-lace
tongue much—do heat know how."

“ No, I’ll be hanged if you do i" cried a stenlorian voice,

at that moment—a voice that rung through the gorge like the

roar of a wild’animsl, and caused the three men to start vio-
lentlyI grasp their guns and glance hurriedly around.

The sound ot the voice was still in the air when the echoes
were increased by the clear crack of a rifle near by, and a bul.
let flattened itself against a rock right behind Solomon’s head,
causing that diminutive personage to shrink into still smaller

, dimensions, as it seemed. .

“ Wolves and witches l" ejaculated the trapper, darting up

   
     
  

 

v vyr~'

- —‘.rfiev.—

  

 

 

7 4 I‘m: BPECTER nmnas.

He had no time to say more. While the rifle-shot was still
reverberatlng from'cl‘ifl' to clifl’, a shadowy figure flitted. before
the eyes of the astonished trio, and vanished so quickly that
thev could hardly have sworn they had seen it. _,

.Admn Griff was the first to move, then. Like a dog after
a rat, he sprung forward with the velocity of a racer—out go!
the dark recess into the canon—anti was gone, leaving Edward

' :nd the red dwarf sitting there alone.

Edward kept llll seat, and commanded the Indian to do
likewise. In almost speechless silence they waited anxiously
for some sound—arcry—the report of a rifle—returning foot~
ste} s—any thing that would tell them the race was at an end,
and would give them even a slight intimation of the result of
Adam’s pursuit of a shadow. For, as yet, neither was con-
vinced that,what they had seen was any thing more than a
shadow.

CHAPTER XV.
A CAPTURE AND AN mm.

FULL ten minutes passed away before the trapper returned,
but when he did. it was not alone.

They first heard the sound of his footsteps outside, mingled
with others, and his grufl’, rumbling voice apparently address-
ing somebody in short sentences, without eliciting a single an.
dible anSWer. Then he came in sight, and walked straight
into the recess, leading a man by the collar of his coat.

This man was a villainous-looking wretch, habited in half-
hunter's costume, with glittering, deep<set eyes, low forehead, '5
matted hair and heavy beard. He was short and stumpy,
with a thick, bull-like neck and a broad, hairy breast, which
was partly/exposed. He was armed to the teeth, but just
now his weapons might havs been so many sticks, for all the
use they were to him, since his hands were tied securely to-.
gether behindhim. «

He scowled ferociously, and made a slight movement as if ‘
half-decided to make an effort toward escape, as his captoth

 

 

 
 

A ‘ PRISONER. , 75

him Into the presence of Westluke and the Indian.’ But Adam
jerked him forward with a force that almost threw him off
his feet, and pushed him rudely into the furthest corner of
the recess.

“ Stand tlmr, you miser‘ble wolf-cub l" he commanded,
sternly, “ and take keer thut you don‘t move a step out of yet
trucks, fur ef you do, I‘ll take it as a signal that you’re tired
of life.

“ He warn‘t hard to ketch,” added the trapper, turning to
Elwurd, “ but urter I'd ketched him, I'm bound to sw'ar we
had a powerful tough wrastle store I could get him tied.
Thor's muscle in his make-up, and hyur’s as thought I’d met
my match fur sartiu when I found him so hard to git the up-
per hand of.”

“ Who is he i" inquired Eduard, looking curiously at
him.

“ I axed him what his handle war two or three times,"
replied the scout, “ but I couldn't git no satisfaction out of
him. He’s as stubborn as the rum in the moon ’bout talk-
in’. Howsomever, I calc'lnte he‘u Turk Redby’s kumrid,
and ef anybody knows any thing ’bout It I reckon Solomon
on to. How is it, Solomon? Ain't nth chap Redby’s
friend ?”

Solomon was silent. He appeared unable to look anybody
in the eyes just then, and, as the most natural «ternative. he
looked at the ground, which had no eyes.

“Ain’t this chap Redby‘s friend i’” repeated the want ‘-
a tone that made the Indian tremble.

“ Yes,” was the low reply.

“ His handle, then, is Dan Sykes 1’"

“ Yes."

“ J ist as I s'pected.”

“ Curse you for a little traitor l” hissed the prisoner, whitt
with passion as he looked down upon the cringing dwarf.
' " You have told them the truth; my name a Dun Sykes,
and I am the friend ofv'l‘urk Redhy. I will not deny it,
but it my hands were free at this moment I would make
you suffer for this act of low cowardice and treason. I
sum-um story as you told it to these men, and it was I
who shot st you. My hand trembled, and the bullet missed

 

5
lie

7rxd“:_
r

76 m smears mmms

you, more’s thsrpity»; but it I could have one more shot at
your internal mug, I‘m» blowed if your brain-pan wouldn’t re-
ceive its first introduction to cold lead 2"

“ S'pose you give the red-skin a rest. and listen to me a
minute," coolly interrupted Adam. “ You and Red‘oy can't
blame anybody but yerselves fur 'takin‘ that little cuss into
yer service. ’cause you knowed when you done it that he

' was a traitor to the people of Fort Biukley, and he was jist

as like to turn out the same with you. Thar ain’t no use.
trustin' a man what'll go back on his best friends for gold, ’
and that's what he done. I acknowledge he needs more kill-
in’ than- he’ll ever get,. but when yer comes down to that,
thar’s another one, less’n a hundred miles from hyur, as
stands in the same need."

The outlaw looked terribly ferocious.

“ Who‘s that '3" he demanded, shortly.

“ That are Dan Sykes,” was the imperturbable rejoinder.

The outlaw had nothing more to say, but he ground his
teeth; his ragewm at white heat. He looked vindictiver
at Solomon, bestowed a savage glancelupou Edward and the;

' old scout, and then run his eye along the ground from his

feet to the‘entrance of the recess. as though already measur-
ing the distance, in contemplation of a dash for freedom,
“Now see ’yur, Sykes." said Adam, leaning on his rifle
and gazing squarely at the person. addressed. “ it strikes me}
that you kin throw allittle light on» a. sertinsubject, ef you're

.a mind toe-n"

“It strikes me that I ain‘t a mind to," interposed the man,.
lullenly.

“ Jist hear me through, at yer, has any respect for yer
provision basket,” resumed Adam. undisturbed. “ I’m goin'
to ex you a question or two, and-3’

“ And I won’t answer ‘em," interrupted the man, again.

“ Shet up, you low scum of creation I” cried the trapper,
In a tone that had the desired effect. .“ You mu answer
my questions; I know you will ; ’crtuse I'm sure you'd rather
discommods yerselfra little. than to have a loop-hole drilled
through" the - upper. extremity. of yer’leugth. Now, in the
fast placerlwmnysrto tell are of. Colonel Howard: and
that ar’ gal of kin are dead or alive t” . ' '

_ whom”-.. A i

A?“ “.4: r s - 

w- 

f

 

 
g.

  
 
 
 
 
 

a man son mam. 17

The villain hesitated.

Click! went the hammer of the trapper’s rifle.

“ They are both alive,” said Dan Sykes, quickly.

“‘You'll sw’ar to that i"

“ A dozen times, if you wish."

“ Has either one on ’em been harmed ?”

“ The colonel was wounded on the head when he wan

vrnpturcd. Nothing to speak of.”

“ They are still in Turk Redhy’s power ?"

“They are."

“ Wal, you tell jist the same thing that Solomon tells, and
I reckon thar must be some truth in it. But that’s sunk-
thin’ we hain’t found out yit, and that I s’pose we’ll have to
l'arn ’from you. Whar kin we find our friends? Whar is
Redby keepin‘ em ?”

The desperado was silent. But a few minutes ago he had
been an eavesdropper to the conversation of the little-din-
ner-party, and had heard the information drawn from 8010-
mon in the same manner that it was now being drawn from
him. He had fired at the Indian then, with intent to kill,

simply to prevent him from telling where the captives might

be found ; and now that 'he was placed, quite unexpectedly,
in the same position recently occupied by the dwarf. he
inwardly resolved that he would not he so cowardly and
inconsistent as to make the treasonable revelationrequired of
him.

“ Are you goin’ to tell 2" asked Adam, coolly.

“ No l” was the dogged response.

Clickl went the rifle again.

The man started and turned pale, but he did not speak.
- ' “ Thar ain’t to be any foolishness 'hout this,” said the trap-
per, and his tone expressed a terrible determination. “ Adam
Grifi‘ are a War that means prezactly what be 502, every
time, and thinks no more of killin’ a man of your stripe than
the Would of pluggln’ the noddle of a Crow :Injuu. Now,

we won't give you five minutes to open yer mouth and tell

‘us all yer knowa ’boutw”

The sentence remained forever incomplete. .With a
movement as quick as lightning. the desperado leaped tor-
tmd, and hurled'himself with all possible 'faroe against Mu

: 7. ~.':.* -'~--'72‘:t:tr:~i:: rxignaw .

  

78 m Irma amass

trapper, causing that personage to measure his, length on the
ground. Then, with a roar of defiance, he bounded over the
prostrate form and was ofl‘ with the speed of a deer!

But Edward Westlake was never slow to act, nor was he
on thin Occasion. With a celerity that equaled that of his
enemy, he seiz<-d his gun and darted out of the recess in pur—
suit of the outlaw, leaving his defeated companion to pick
himself up at leisure. ‘0 ,

Solomon was startled half out of his wits by the sudden- ~ r
ness of these movements, but even in his bewilderment it >
flashed across his mind that this was his time to escape. So .
he jumped up with the intention of bolting out in the tracks , s.
of his two predecessors, but before he could move a step, a '
pair of bands was laid roughly on his shoulders, and he was
5 hurled backward upon the stones with a violence that made
‘ him cry out with pain. ‘

It was Adam Griff who thus checked the flight of the
,5 dwarf, even before it was begun.

 ' “Lay thar, you little imp l” he said, grufiiy. “Ef that
other cuss gits away you‘ll stay with us awhile longer, that's ‘ . t
2‘ all. We can’t afford to lose both of you—nor even one of
ffi ' you, ef we can help it. Cuss that reprobatel he e’ena’most
l
4

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A 'e_._____.__..._._._. -_.._~._W
i

knocked the wind "out of me. I wish I had him by the ha’r.

Lay still now, while Itie you, ’cause 1 hain’t no time to .

t v play, and at yer moves a muscle this toothpick ’11 pin you to .
‘ the ground in the shake of a b’ar’s tail!" ' L

777

While speaking he was also producing some pieces of
cord, an ample supply of which he invariably carried about *
his person, in view of emergencies that would make it useful.

As he ceased speaking he began hastily to bind the Indian
And and foot, to prevent the possibility of another attemp

,A/

 

«r

it At flight. Fearing the threatened consequences of a resist % '
4 I..ce, the Indian did not move while he was being bound, ';
if} thJugh he did venture to remonstrute. 
 -‘ I ' ‘ You no keep promise," he exclaimed, vehemently " You 
 - say You let me go when I tell all ’bout Redby.” I ' ~
 ' Waghi you hain‘t told yit,” said Adam. “ You hain’t told V g:
3, wins: Redby’s den is.” ' ‘ 
if, ‘ ' “ L15 tell now,” said the savage, brightening up. r I , 7;"
. , . '“Ko yer won’t. ‘ I hain't time to listen mow. .I’ll in! 

u '17,

 

 

 

 

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A cases. 79

.11 you’ve got to say when I come back, and my reason fur
tyin’ you is to keep you hyur till I do come back."
, Bo saying he left the dwarf in his helpless condition, and
strode out of the recess into the gorge.

Here he paused. A look of uneasiness swept over his fea-

tures. The man, Dan Sykes, was not in sight—neither was
Edward Westlake. Not a living thing was visible to hiu
yes. .

He looked in both directions, and listened intently. Noll:
.ng was to be seen or heard.

CHARTER XVI.
IN THE omnsw’s DEN.

Wm Edward Westlase rushed out of the recess in put
suit of the desperado, it was with a vague understanding that
he must recapture him, or run a great' risk of losing Marian
forever! It would not do, by any means, he thought, to
let the villain reach his haunt in safety, as he would be sure
to give Turk Redby warning of their danger; and the latter,
if he should find it useless to attempt to fly with the captives,
would, in all probability, murder them both before making
good his own escape. .

This was the thought that flashed across Edward’s mind,
and incited him to give chase; and he strained every muscle
to its utmost tension in his endeavor to overhaul the fugitive.

- Up the cation they sped, at an astonishing rate, both of
them proving in a moment their fleetness of foot and their in-
tense anxiet y for the issue of the impromptu race. _ The outlaw‘s
hands were still tied behind him, and indeed they bid fair to
remain so until freed by somebody else. but apparently this
was no impediment to his progress It was a matter of life
and death with him—with Edward it was even more than
that.

, After running about a quarter of a mile from the starting
.point, the racers came to a place where the pass made an ab-
rupt turn to the right. ‘

 

  

THE 3PM RIDERS.

The outlaw rounded the bend with unabated speed. and:
was out of sight in a second. But our here was not far has
hind. More swiftly than he had ever run before, he sped

forward like a rocket. Unlike his enemy, however, he stop-r

pod short-in the turn of the pass and lifted his rifle to his
shoulder. From this point :the cohort was very narrow and
crooked, and so clogged in many places by debris from the
lofty hills on either side, that it was rendered diflicult of
travel. Our hero, as he looked along the obstructed avenue,
saw the outlaw still retreating as rapidly as possible, leaping

from rock to rock with the agility and recklessness of a‘

mountain goat.

Westlake‘s decision was made. Pressing his gun to his
shoulder, he took quick but sure aim at the flying figure, and
the hammer fell. There was a sharp click, and the powder
flashed in the pan! The gun retained its charge, and the
man lived. Westlake looked down to see what ailed the
weapon, but only for a moment. He concluded that he had
no time to prime it afresh, and that he must get much closer
to the fugitive before again bringing it into requisition.

But he had taken only two long bounds when he stopped
again. This time the halt was very sudden indeed, and the
butt of his rifle struck the ground with a ring, and his eyes
and month flew open, and he was the very picture of intense
amazement.

The outlaw had disappeared. He was nowhere to be seen.
Look whichever‘way he wouldgnot even the trace of a living
thing was visible. To all appearance, Edward was entirely
alone in the gorge. _ .

What had become of the villain? Where had be gone so
suddenly? Edward‘s first. thought was that he had dived into

some crevice or cavern—probably the very place so anxiously!

looked for: the lhrking-place' of Turk Redhy.

This thought excited him, and he hurried forward once
more. He went with much less speed, now than he had pre-
viously practiced, firstly became the way had grown less,
smooth. and secondly for the purpose of keeping a sharp
IOOR’ON- on. both sides- of the gorge, in order to discover, if

possible, the cave or‘gulch which had swallowed spilt-dun ;

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He went on. and on, until
heknew there was no necessity of going further. and then
:he paused. He was perplexed and vexed. He was positive
the fellow had not gone so for, before he had lost eight 0:
,him, and yet he had found no place where the wretch could

I this he was unsuccessful.

have hidden. Half despairing, he turned shout and began to
retrace his steps, slowly and reluctantly, still scanning the
wells on either hand, with a hope that he might yet find What
.he had overlooked before: a clue to the villain’s where-
abouts. .

~ He had not proceeded far on his return, when all of a sud-
den he was startled by u hoarse voice, exclaiming :

“Rush fool! in following me you have overtaken death.

- Take that, you coward l" '

Edward whirled round at the sound of this voice, sud the
first thing he saw Was A human head, withinn few feet of
where he stood. It was all he could see, and it was raised
above the edge of a rock, behind which the rest of the body
was concealed. He only obtained a glimpse of the head, for
st the very moment he turned it was concealed by a cloud of
smoke that suddenly sprung into existence, and the jarring
report of a pistol echoed through the gorge. The bullet
whistled by so close to'his ear that he dodged involuntarily.

.When the smoke cleared away, the young men litted‘his
. rifle and looked for the head. But it was gone.

However, he was a victim of impulses 10-day. and-he re-
solved to follow the villain, cost what it might. He knew
it was Dun Sykes who had shot at him; evsnjn that one
glimpse he had recognized the face.

Willi one leap he mounted the rock, end; stood upon the
highest edge. He looked down behind it. Nobody was
there, but that look put him in pmsessiou of asccret,,and in-
spired him once more with brilliant hopes. There was a
dark hole—an opening in the face of .th cliff, of sufficient
dimensions to admit the bodyof an ordinary man in uslightly
.stooping posture. V It was the mouth of a cave, and I in this '
.‘cave Dan Sykes had undoubtedly taken refuge; This, and

10138111110116, was apparent to Edward. He believed he had

- -,|tumbled uponthat which ‘5;th desired mind—the den

4.0.1. not W. p. . ,

  

   
 
  

 

THE SPECTEB RIDERS. ’

Without the slightest hesitation, and without a thought of
what might be the consequence of such an act, he jumped
down behind the rock, bent his body almost double, and
fairly dove into the cavern.

It was dark as pitch inside, and nothing was to be heard
save his own heavy breathing and the sound of his footsteps,
but he went fearlessly on, holding his gun in advance, at
arm’s length. He groped his way through a short, narrow
passage, and then—notwithstanding the darkness was still
intense—he became aware that he had emerged into an apart‘
ment of considerable dimensions. He paused then, stwd
erect and listened. He'heard nothing. He endeavored to
penetrate the heavy gloom with his keen eyes. The effort
could have been no less fruitless had it been a stone wall he
was endeavoring to see through. A feeling of uneasiness
came over him now for the first time, for it is a fact well
known that there have been times when mere darkness and.
silence have produced uneasiness in the slot .est hearts. He
was confident that he was in the outlaws’ cave, and he felt
that the outlaws knew it—that he was watched, and that be
had placed himself in their power.

Hark ! what was that he heard} A scream? Yes, it
was! Beyond a doubt it was a scream,'and one that told its
author was in distress. Moreover, it was a female voice.
There could be no uncertainty about that. Edward started
as it fell upon his ear, for, although the cry was but faintly
heard, as if it proceeded from a distant part of the cavern,
far back under the hills, he still thought he recognized the
voice.

“Marian! Marian l" he shouted, “I am coming! I am
coming to save you I” '

The last words were still quivering on his lips, when the
far-ofl‘ report of a pistol came rolling through the cavern, fol-
lowed by another faint scream, and all was still again.

Edward bounded forward, regardless of darkness and dan-
ger—thinking only of her that was dearer to hing than life—
thinking only of her and her peril, and with a determination
to rescue her or die in her defense. But it so happened that
somebody was coming from thehpposite direction at the same
time and at no less speed. Suddenly a heavy body ‘came

    
     
   
   
   
   
   
    
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
  
 
   
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
   

 

 
 

 
 
 

   
  
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

 

 

.l against the young man with such force as to almost jar the

A OONCUSSION.

breath out of him, and he was unceremoniously brought to a
stand-still. Before he could place himself on the defensive
his g'un was violently wrenched from his hands and dashed
to the ground. Then a pair of rough hands seized him, and
a hoarse voice roared in his ear:

‘ " You’re going to save her, are you? Ha! ha! ha .
When you do, the sun will turn to blood She is already
saved. Did you hear that pistol-shot? The bullet pierced
her brain! Ha! ha! ha!”

I‘ It was enough. Edward heard no more. These words
set him wild, and endowod him with the strength of a
giant, He did not seem to act by his own efi‘ort; his brain,
his heart, his soul were as nothing; and the few moments
that followed were a blank in his memory. He could never
afterward give a clear account of what occurred, then. He
had a dim recollection of grappling 'with a man in the dark,
and of a desperate struggle, which might have lasted an
hour or a minute,» for all he knew. He was conscious of no
more until he found himself, as it were, standing there alone,
breathing huskily and holdings wet knife in his hand, while
he could plainly hear the thick blood dripping slowly on
the stone floor of the cave!

 

CHAPTER XVII.
m nasramno’s' mom.

WHILE yet Edward was standing there, with the pecu
liar sensation of one slowly waking from a ‘lream, a light
flashed in his face, and brought him at once to a realization

, of his position.

He looked up with a start. ,He saw a man running to-
ward him, holding a blazing torch in his hand. He was
pomlng from the rear part of the cave, and, of course, was

V} at once regarded as an enemy. The man was. minus both

out and coat, and his nead"was bandaged as if. he hm ‘
recently been wounded. ' ' ” ~

   

  

Edward’s fingers closed tigth around the handle (if his
knife, and be planted one foot behind the other with a look
that showed he was determined to die fighting.

“Stand ofi', wretchl" he cried, in a ringingI voice, “_or
advance at your peril. If you dare to approach within reach
of this weapon your blood be upon your own head i" ‘

The man with the bandaged head stopped short, held the
torch above his face and looked immeasurably amazed.

“ Westlake—Westlake i don’t you know me ?” he exclaim-

' ed, in a trembling voice. “ Look at me! I am—"

“ Colonel Howarth, by the seven wonders l" ejaculated
Edward, recognizing him as he spoke; and droppinng
knife he sprung forward to meet his friend.

“Thank God, you still live i" he cried, in a transport of ,

joy, as be seized the colonel’s hand and shook it warmly.
“I thought you were an enemy. One minute ago-I could
not have hoped for this meeting.”

“‘ By Heaven’s mercy I still live,” replied the colonel, re-

turning the young man‘s greeting with as much warmth as it

was given. “ Although, by to-morrow I could not have said
so much for myself.”

And a faint smile flickered over his pale features.

“ I am glad to see you, Westlake," he added, in a stronger
voice, “and more so because I know that you are here in
behalf of myself and daughter. You are a brave and noble
led, and— Good graciousl sir, did you kill that man 1’"

His eyes, for the first time, alighted upon the silent, bloody
figure stretched out at their feet.

“ I—-I suppose I did,” replied Edward, looking down at '

his victim as if he did not clearly understand it, and then
looking up again at his interrogator.
“ One fiend less in the world,” said Colonel Howarth,
clinching his teeth. “ This is Turk Redby’s- companion.”
Edward bent upon the, lifeless man a closer scrutiny, and

discovered that such was the fact. It was Dan Sykes—41nd

he was dead. There were ghastly knife-wounds in his breast

.r and throat, and he was weltering' in his blood.

“‘1 suppose I killed him,” said the young man, in (be
wildered .sort of .a way. " though I hardly know how, or
why.” » '

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     

   

 

 
 

.
site ‘
“t' l (I, t

 

 

   

' shot through the brain by her captor l

rm: 001.0251“. surname. 85

" No matter; you did a good deed when you took his,
life,” said Colonel Howarth, speaking rapidly now,.as if it
had just occurred to him that time was precious. “The
feliow cmne rushing in here awhile ago, with his hands tied
behind him, exclaiming that he had been a. captive, hnd es-
caped and was pursued. Redby cut the cord that bound his
wrists, and than, without waiting a moment, Sykes snatched
.p a pistol and ran back to the mouth of the cave. We
heard the report of his pistol, and supposed he had slut
somebody, but a moment later he came buck at the top of
his speed, and announced vociferously that he had missed his
aim. He told Redby to escape with the girl as quickly as
possible, and he would cover his retreat.”

At this point in the explanation, Equrd started and
grasped the Colonel’s arm. The glaring torch revealed a
white face, find a pair of wildly-gleaming eyes.

“ I remember now,” he said, in an icy whisper, “ I remain
her now. This demon run against me in the dork—he grap-
pled with men—he roared in my enr that Marian was dead-—
Yes, yes; I remem-
Colonel Howarth, the murderer of
He shall die a thousand

her it now. My God!
your daughter shall die for this.
deaths it he had as many lives I" _

“ Stop, my friend,” interrupted the other; “ you alarm
me. Compose yourself, and listen to me. If this man told
you Murisn was dead, he told a base lie. She is not.”

“Not dead ? Thank God i"

“ She was not even shot at."

“ But I heard the report of a pistol and a scream.”

' “ The pistol was aimed at me,” said the colonel, quietly.
“ When apprised of his danger, Turk Redby lifted Marian in
his arms, in spite of her struggles and cries, and began to as.
cend the ladder which leads from the rear. apartment to the
open air. I was lying on the ground, bound hand and foot,
and consequently helpless. When Redby was near the top

. of the ladder, he turned about, held Marian with his left arm,
' drew a pistol with his right hand, pointed it at me and fired.
,. The bullet. missed me, but he did not wait to observe the ab

feet. of his shot. He was gone in a moment, and gone with
my daughter I became frantic; I seemed possessed of 

  

   
 
  
   
   
 
    
  
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
    

4;; ~  .

'11.- ....' ;1 2;. . vg' .

m SPECTEB RIDERS.

perhuman strength in my desperation, and, after two or three
inefl‘ectual attempts, I snapped the Cords on my wri‘sts. With
the use of my hands, it was the work of a moment to set my
feet free. I believed there were friends out here, and I came
to meet them, and procure their assistance. And now let us
waste no more time. Come, Westlake; will you go with me
in pursuit of Marian's captor ?”

“ Will I?“ echoed Edward, hurriedly picking up his gun
and knife. “ How can you ask me 1” '

“ But stay i” added the colonel. “ Where is Adam ‘Grifl‘?
Didn’t he accompany you hither?”

“ He is not far away, but. I came to the cave alone. We
haven’t time to go after him; besides, we do not. need his
help, since Redby is but one and we are two. Delay is
a torture. Lead the way, and I will follow.”

Colonel Howarth started back to the rear of the cave with
long, rapid strides, closely followed by the youth. He held
up the torch to light the way. Without it they could not
have seen beyond the end of their noses, for there was not so
much as a crevice to relieve the opacity of the substance be-
tween them and the heavens, and not a single ray of daylight
was admitted to the subterranean vault.

After going through a long, wide passage they emerged
into another apartment, which, the colonel explained, was
the dwelling-place of Redby and Sykes. as well as the prison-
chambermf himself and daughter. This room was not so
spacious as the first one, but it had been slightly fitted up for
a place of abode, for it contained two clumsy stools and a
bench, in the way of furniture. Its greatest measure, by far,
was its depth. The ceiling looked very high to Edward as
he glanced upward, but to see it he did not have to depend
rpon the one torch they carried, as there Were three or four
otners sticking in the walls around them.

On one side of the room was a rope-ladder, reaching from
the floor to a sort of trap-door, as»it appeared, in the ceil-
ing.

This they prepared to ascend, as it was the course taken
by Redby in his flight. Edward loosened his knife and pith~
tols in his belt, and, after looking to the priming of his'gun,
be suspended that weapon across his back, in order to have

. .54"

«it's ‘
.V'

 

 

 
 

A SCREAM FOR HELP.

the free use of his hands. Colonel Howarth dropped the
torch he carried, and was ready for pursuit.

Edward took the lead. Grasping the dangling ropes in a
firm, resolute manner, and with a look which showed that
nothing but death itself could stop him, he began to ascend.
The colonel was not slow in following.

Up the trembling ladder they climbed, until they reached

‘the ceiling. Here was a dark hole, which may be briefly de

scribed by simply inlimatingr that it resembled the interior of
a chimney, about five feet in length. Into this hole they
squeezed their bodies, and continued to climb upward. At
the top a flat stone had been laid over the aperture. This
was easily removed, and the result a flood of daylight n‘nd a
stream of fresh air. . ~

The two men climbed out of the cavity, and found them-
selves upon a level table-land, overlooking a vast extent of
broken country. Here they paused to look about them.
That the day was nearly gone was shown by the position of
the sun, which was slowly sinking behind the western hills,'
and kissing the tallest peaks with his last golden rays.

“ Well, here we are," said Edward, speaking hurriedly to
his companion. “ How shall we proceed ? Can you tell
which direction it were better to follow l’”

“ I know not what to do. I must leave the guidance to
you, young man. My head is not clear.”

“ Help! help ! help!” screamed a female voice, at that mo-
ment. " Father! Edward! Save me—oh, save me 1"

The two men whirled round simultaneously, in answer to
the pleading cry. They beheld a sight tnn‘. made Colonel
Howarth clasp his hands, and caused EdWhu-t‘ tv'sntuke to un
sling his rifle in the twinkling of an eye.

 

  

‘ 3....453. J.

l
i
ii
1


 

, sued. .

   

CHAPTER XVIII.
mm or run Bonnnn mnnn.

As: no great distance from where they stood, they saw
Turk Redby and Marian Howarth. They were on the very
verge of the cliff, overlooking the gorge through which Ed-
ward had chased Dan Sykes, and at a point directly above
the mouth of the cave.

When first seen by our friends, Redby had the girl by the
wrists, trying to drag her along the edge of the precipice.
He was cursing and threatening—she struggling and crying
for help, while her hair was disheveled, her garments torn,
and her face turned pleadingly toward her father and lover;

“Villain! Coward l” shouted Edward, leveling his rifle at.
the man. “ Unhand that girl instantly l”

Quick as thought, the cunning wretch leaped behind the
girl, and, grasping her arms with his sinewy hands, compelled
her to stand between him and his enemies.

“ Shoot, if you will,” he cried, with a mocking laugh.
“Ha! ha! ha!”

Colonel Howarth and the young man looked at each other.

“ What can we do ‘2” exclaimed Edward.

“ Rush upon the demon, and overpOWer him before he can
escape.” replied the colonel, who, in his excitement, thought
not once of his own danger should such a course be pur-,

Westlake shook his head.

“ That would not do,” said he, in a tone that showed his
utter disapproval of the plan. “The fellow could easily shoot
one or both of us before we could reach him.”

As if he had overheard these remarks, Redby drew a pie-l

I." ‘5’

‘ tol and deliberately pointed it at the two men, over the girl’s

shoulder.
“ Advance a step,” he cried, “ and I fire. I warn you that

,,  I will not be taken alive, and also that this maiden shall not

be separated from me alive. I 'will murder her before your,

 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
 
   

 

 

»Q «3-:4-2- 



‘” fzrjmrr'm:wd

 

 

  

oven m you”. , fit)

very eyes before I will allow you to regain possession of
her.”

There was a pause. Colonel Howurlh looked at his young
friend with pale face and knitted brows.

“ Can we do nothing ?" he asked, in a voice shaking with
his intense emotions.

Before Edward could reply. Redby, with the weapon still

‘pointcd, cried out: ‘

-“ I command you both to retire immediately, and leave me
to go my way unmolested. Go back into the cave and out
of my sight in less than one minute, or your bones shall be
left to bleach upon this hill."

. At that instant—just as the last word fell from the villain‘s
moutho—all distinctly heard the crack of a rifle in the canon
below. The next second Turk Redby was seen to give a trio-
lent star-t, release Marian from his grasp, stagger and reel like
a drunken man ;, and then, throwing up his hands with a wild
unearthly shriek, he fell backward over the edge of the cliff,
and disappeared!

No sooner did Marian see that she was at liberty, than she
gave. utterance to a joyful cry and ran toward her friends,
realizing only that she was free, and not that her captor had
met with death in one of its most horrible shapes

“F‘ntherl Edward 1" she cried, and in another moment
she, lay panting on her lover‘s breast, while he gently pushed
back her damp hair and imprinted a. kiss on her fore-
head. . '

“Darling l” he murmured, “ God alone knows my hsppiuess

~ _ at this moment."

“ I may judge it by my own." she answered, tremulously.
, “ And I by mine," said the colonel, with beaming face.
“ This is a happy hour, indeed.”

And he kissed his daughter afl‘ectionntely.

“ But who fired the shot that killed Turk Redby ?” he asked,
a moment later.

“ ls Turk Redby killed i” cried Marian, looking toward the
lpot where he had stood holding her. ‘
. " If not he must have a charmed lil’e. ' He fell over the
‘zflilf-T‘

L “'1 think trim Adam am: who fired thatsbot,” said Ed-

 

   

   
  

TEE SPECTER' RIDERS.

ward. “ Indeed, whether he was the marksman or not, I
would take my oath that it was the report of his rifle we heard.”
“ We can settle that question by seeing for ourselves," ob
served the colonel. “' Come ; let us go. The sun is fast going
down, and I see no necessity for wasting more time here."

Without further delay, they turned to the chimney-like
aperture which led to the cavern below. Marian assumed the
lead. Laughing at. the idea of assistance, when it was offered
her, she lqwercd herself into the dark hole and began to climb
down the rope ladder. '

The men followed her, and in a few moments they were all
standing together in the rear apartment of the cave.

Colonel Howarth extinguished every torch but one, and that
one he took in his hand to light their way out. Bidding the
others follow, he went ahead with the light, and they moved
on through the long passage toward the mouth of the cave.

o In the front apartment they found the bloody form of Dan

   
   

Sykes, lying just as he had fallen when Edward Westlake’s
knife pierced his villainous heart. They merely glanced at
the corpse, and passed on in solemn silence.

As they emerged from the cave, the first person they saw
was old Adam Gritf. He was standing on the opposite side
of the gorge, leaning on his long rifle in an attitude habitual
with him, apparently waiting for them. A broad smile il-
lumined his visage as the trio appeared, and he came forward
to meet them with hand extended.

“ Lord bless you, kurnel, this is you, ain‘t it, with yer head
done up in a rag? And hyur you are, little ’un," said the
seout,'laying his handvon Marian’s heat, “ lookin’ as well as
ever, ’cept you’re sorter pale, like. Wal, youngster, I reckon
we‘re well paid fur comin‘, ain’t we 1’" '

“ A thousand times paid,” answered Edward, warmly.

“ But Turk Redby—where is he ‘2” inquired Colonel How-
arth. “ You shot him, Adam, did you not i’” . ~

“ Calc’late I did,” replied Adam, with a smile. ‘

“ And he fell from the clifi‘ ?” v

“ Wal, he didn’t do nothln’ else.”

“ Then where is his body ?" _

“I dragged his carkidge into that niche, yender. I all“
a how it wam't jist the'sight fur the gal to look It.” ->

I

 

.4

.<b,
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. ,w"1771"5*““’

 

  

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

, gt." 3.1:,» l

 

 

 

 

A em run new. ’1
. Marian shuddered and turned her face away, but her father
and Edward approached the niche referred to by the trapper,
and looked in. There, sure enough, was the crushed and.
mangled body of the desperado, Turk Redhy. His clothes
were badly torn, and fairly saturated with blood; his face
was frightfully cut and bruised; his hair was clotted with
sickly gore; his eyes and month were wide open, and his
teeth were revealed in all their grinning ghastliness.

“ Let the ponr chap rest," said Adam, solemnly. “ Him

_and his chum have both passed in their checks, and that ain’t

nothin’ more to be feared from ’em. So we‘ll jist leave ’em
to rest. Let’s go back to what we left Solomon and the
bosses."

And taking the lead himself, he conducted them all back
tothat part of the cafion where he and Edward had first
stopped after their entrance. They found their animals just
as they had left them, and in the recess, where they had
dined, lay Solomon the dwarf, bound hand and foot, the work
of Adam Griff. v

The trapper released him.‘

“ You kin git up now, Injun." said he, “ ’canso I reckon
thar’s no danger of your cuttin’ sticks while we’ve got our
peepers on you. Ef you do. I’ve got a pill ready that you kin
take.”

“ Let him go,” said Marian. “ Surely you do not wish to
be troubled by him, when it is necessary that we should make
the best of our time Just now, and get out of these breaks be-
fore nightfall. It will be utterly impossible to travel over
that perilous path in safety after dark. But stay 1" she ad-
ded, with a sudden change of tone; “you forgot to bring
your horse, father, and there are only two here. Our pro«
gross will be very slow indeed, if you are thoughtless enough

to leave your horse."

“ Wait a bit,” interrupted the trapper.» “I’ve made up my
mind that we won‘t leave the breaks to-night. Thar’e 'no
need of gittin’ in a hurry now, arter all the danger’s over. We
all need rest—’specially you and yer father—and so we’ll stay ,
right on this spot till mornin’. As fur Solomon—wal, he kin
lodgewith us over night.” , a
“ I will go back to the cave after my horse, immediately."

 
    
 

  

 

 

TEE SPECle RIDERS.

aid the colonel, “and I will bring Redby's horse (oryour
,use, my dear. He will never ride him more.” -

No objections were offered to this plan. Colonel Howarth
departed, and soon returned with two horses, one carrying
Marian’ssaddle and the other his own. These were given

place with the other animals.

It was agreed all around that they should stop thereun-
til the next morning, since Turk Redby was forever silenced,
and the lost ones were found.

CHAPTER XIX.
TEE srscrnn mums.

Nrom‘ closed in, and it .was dark to the last degree in
the gorge. A roaring fire was built in the recess, however,
brilliantly lighting up the immediate vicinity, ‘and casting

grotesque shndOWs on the cold gray walls around. The lit-

tle group of five, including Solomon, inclosed 'the fire in a
circle by gathering around it, and all resigned themselves to
the pleasant duty of preparing and discussing the evening
meal, which, in the absence of a better dish, consisted chief-
lyiof goat-flesh. Strangely enough, no one thought of dan-
Qer now, although they were in a part of the country in-
habited by hostile and barbarous savages, and could scarcely
have felt safe under ordinary circumstances. But, after
what had occurred—after their fortunate success in the rev
one of the captives, and the punishment of their captors-
it became a prevalent feeling that Providence had interfered

(in their behalf. and that they were therefore safe under such
. protection. '

Supper was :over; but .no one thought of courting the

(spirit of slumber, as yet. They were conversing cheerfully,

and on various topics, when Adam Griff started them all'
by breaking ofl ia\the middle of a sentence, and command-

‘ int. lileM'

/

     
    
   
  
  
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
     
    

.‘w\

 

 

 

 

 

    

um: I 98,-

The command was no sooner given than obeyed. All
looked at Adam in blank' surprise.

“ What do you mean? What is the matter?" Edward
ventured.

“ Hush! Listen 1" admonished the trapper, in‘ a low, clear
tone, raising one finger to Mean, and setting the example
by listeuing intently himself.

All did as they were advised.

“ Does you hear sunkthin‘ i” inquired the scout.

“ I do," responded Colonel Howarth, promptly.

“ And I,” cried Edward and Marian in a breath; while“
Solomon held his peace, though he showed by the look he
wore that he heard it also.

“ What is it i” asked the colonel. with dilated eyes.

“ I can’t guess,” returned the scout, shaking his head.

“ There is somebody or something wandering abroad
to-night,” asserted Edward, “ and not far away, I should-
judge.”

“Somebody besides ourselves have blundered'into these g’ 7

parts, that's sartin,” said Adum,-confldently.

“ Hark I do you hear that i" exclaimed the colonel.

“ By Heavenl there are horsemen in the gorge i” cried v
Westlske, springing to his feet,

“Get yer guns ready,” came the clear, steady voice of“
Adam Grifl‘, “ and don’t tire till I give the word.”

The little camp was immediately in a state of confusibn-
The tire was allowed to live, but the three men rangt‘v'd' "‘em‘
selves behind it where they could not be seen from the EMT-1°"
and pressed Marian and the dwarf back into the remotest
corners. .

Therclatter of horses’ boots was heard—horses that W", M
ovidently coming up the pass at headlong Speed ! _ -

Were they‘mounted by Indians? Not 8' human vorce was
heard, to ten whether they were mounted at all or‘not, out

the thought afal'ndisus dwelt in every mind.
“They are coming like “the wind,” whispered Edward,

’ hastily. “ I wonder how they- entered the cation, when it ll

IfiVeryfinrkfl’ w y
.e‘ Probably: these is more than one way of mtfidu’tv “r

[voted the onion, in the some low tone.

 
 

    
   

94 'rrm srnc'mn RIDERS.

 

“ Hold yer arms ready, boys.” muttered the trapper. “ I x v
. opine they’re reds, and they can’t help knowin’ we’re hyur, '
'cause they can see the fire. I'm afeard they’ll stampede our
animals, but we can’t do nothin‘. Now—ready—"
At that instant the horses came dashing past. They were
in sight only a moment, three powerful steeds—three human
l skeletons—three n/‘hite sheets flying in the wind—and that
i was all. They came and went in a breath. Swift as at :-
rnws they flitted by in the flickering firelight, and went thun- ‘
E dering on up the gorge, almost before they could be distinctly
‘l seen. ,1
2 Not a shot had been fired. The three men looked at one '. ;~'
 another in astonishment. ‘
i
i
I
t

.A.AA_.‘-'_-m«'  ‘&L-_—'«**—"v

“ The Specter Riders l" ejaculated Colonel Howarth, in ex
cited tones. “I had nearly forgotten them.”

“ They are the Specter Riders, sure’s shootin’ !" exclaimed
the trapper, with a trifle less composure than he had shown
a minute before. - m
r “ Come with me i" shouted Edward Westlake, in a thrill~ ‘ 1 "

. , ing voice. “Now is our chance to unravel this mystery!
Come on! They can not escape us now i"

And, without waiting to see whether they intended to fol-
l low or not, he bounded past the fire like an antelope, and
'I  quick as thought was out of the recess into the gloomy
4" i ,4 gorge. 7 i ’o
 i Adam Griff and Colonel Howarth darted after him, as it ‘
t l compelled by the words of the young man to follow. The ,
colonel paused a moment in the entrance of the recess. . ‘«

“ Marian l” he cried, looking back, “ here is my gun. Take
‘t, and stand guard over that Indian l"

. He tossed the gun toward her, and was gone the same in
tent.

Besides being a brave girl, Marian was cool-headed enough
to be an army General, and her father’s weapon had scarcely
touched the ground when she had it in her hands, ready to
make a remorseless presentation of the entire charge to 801- :
omen on his first attempt to escape. ' ‘ 

The three men were no sooner beyond the circle of the tire.
than they found themselves enshrouded in total darkness.
At the same time they heard a confused trampling and club-z

l

 

 

 

  

 

  

 

was: MYSTERY sortvrm. 05

 

tering of boots a short distance ahead—a jumping and plung-
ing, as if the horses had encountered an obstacle.

“It is .the bend in the pass i" cried Adam, in his loud,
ringing voice. “ They don‘t know which way to turn. Come
on—quick l Now or never 1"

They rushed forward, regardless of the awful gloom—-
rushed forward thumgn the dark cation together, determined
to make one desperate effort to tear away the vail of mystery
that hung over the Specter Riders. ' ‘

They rushed in among the plunging horses, and closed'
with them in a fierce struggle. The animals were wild with
fright, and tried hard to escape, but a pair of strong hands
grasped the reins of each, and held on with stubborn tenacity
in spite of their rearing and kicking.

A minute sufficed to quiet the alarmed steeds, and every
one of them was a captive.

The skeletons were silent as ever.

With a strange, uncomfortable feeling that they were it.
the presence of supernatural beings, the victors led their
prizes back to' the camp, in all haste.

Here, stopping in the brilliant glare of the firclight, they
proceeded to examine the weird horsemen with curious eyes,
the trapper at first holding back a little at the dictation of
his superstitious fancy. Three fine-looking horses, somewhat
shy and dimcult to keep in check, all saddled and bridled
and well shod, as if they were the property of civilized mor-
tals. The bones of three human beings, white and fleshless,
sitting erect in the saddle like living things, with horribly-
grinning teeth, and dull, staring, eyeless sockets. Each wore
a sheet folded loosely about its shoulders. A closer scrutiny

‘revealed the fact that the skeletons were tied to the horses

and that they were held in their upright position by small
stifl‘ wires, which were entirely invisible at a distance of two

or three yards.

.« The whole thing is nothing but a horrible joke,” observed
Colonel Howarth, stepping back and continuing to gaze at
the odd-looking trio. “ Only a horrible joke. These horses
have been wandering at will, and not at the will of their rid-

m”; . .. t. ‘
'wAdun' Grit! said he would “knock under,” and acknowlv

   

 
 

 

....,;;.

._-~ “‘v 

 

 

edge himself wrong in his opinion that the Specter Riders
were “ sperrits."

“Hallol what is this ?" exclaimed Edward, atthat junc-
ture.

As he gave utterance to this excited exclamation, he was
seen to withdraw something from beneath one of the saddles.
It was a piece of paper, folded to a small size. Mechanically
he unfolded it, and spread it out in his hands, while the nth
«are looked on with' eager faces. There was 'writing on it.
Edward held it toward the fire, and read aloud the following
words written thereon :

“The riders of these horses are the mortal remains of three
inch from Fort Binkley, named respectively Simon Dawes,
Dean Potter and Joe Crampton, and the animals are their own.
These were the men who inflicted upon me a seVere punish-
ment at the whipping-post, and when I have added their com-
mander, Colonel Howarth, to the number of my victims, and.
turned his skeleton loose in this same manner. my revenge will
be complete. Tm Raver.”

C H A P T E R X X .
as A NATURAL consequence.

Hm was a complete solution to the mystery of the Spec-
wr Riders, which had created so much excitement in and
around Fort Blnkley, and here, also, was an end to the un-

_ certainty concerning the fate of the three missing men. .Alns!

even that uncertainty was better than the painful reality. No-
thing could have been more horrible than the revenge of that
human fiend, whose very love of murder had led him to the
worst kind of barbarity. Adam Griff ground his teeth, and
muttered something to the eflect that, if Turk Redby were
notralready dead he knew what he would do. Every one in
the party had known Dean Potter, Simon Dawes and Joe
Gnmpwm‘md it was with solemn faces, and emotions ottho
deepest regret, that they looked upon all that remained of
:therill-htedxrio. '

 

 

 

 

 
   

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 
   
 

 

nonvnrm  91'"

It' was decided that the skeletons should be left upon the
horses, and taken to Fort Binkley just as they were found.

So, the next morning our friends were up bright and early
ready for the homeward journey, and mounting their own
animals. and leading those of the silent riders, they turned
their backs on the canon camp. They left the breaks by a
difi'erent route from that by which they had entered, having
discovered a pass through which the skeletons had gained ac- ’
cess to the gorge on the preceding night. It was a strange.
looking party indeed that came out upon the open prairie that
morning, and the trapper indulged in a grim smile as he re-
marked that nothing was to be apprehended from Indians

’while they were attended by such a body-guard.

Once upon the plains, Solomon, the Indian dwarf, was set
free, and allowed to depart in peace; but he was particularly
warned never to show himself at Fort Biukley again, until he
had grown tired of life, as that would be the only occasion
upon which they could render him a service.

Solomon went his way. and was never seen nor heard of
again by any of the other characters in this drama.

When the party reached the fort it was greetel by shouts
of, welcome, and exclamations of delight, horror, wonder and
awe. Great crowds gathered around the Specter Riders, when
told that they were their missing friends, and g-tzed at 1110'“
sorrowfully, making numerous inquiries, and indulging in
murmurs of indignation.

The remains of the murdered men were buried in one
grave, on a beautiful spot which had been consecrated by the
burial of the few who had gone before. .
— Colonel Howarth resumed his command, 3nd one my be
summoned Edward Westlake into his Prese“°°~_ and made
him an offer of a captain’s commission as n W"-“‘1 Terll‘d._
he said, of the services rendered to himSEIf and (la-ugh“??-
But Edward declined the honor with thanks. and modestly

added that he desired a reward of another descril’tion 911'
tirely. to wit: the hand of Marian. The colonel laughed.
and told him that was his already. The captaincy was then
proffered to old Adam Griff, but he shook his head in his
odd Way, and said he “ war willin’ to do some scoutin' for
the fort, whenever he was, nxed, and fightin’, too, 6! ll

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

m 89m RIDERS.

conic to thin, but he warn‘t goin’ to he himself that—not
he."

Edward and Mariam have been married many years, though
both are comparatively young as yet. The bright-eyed olive-
brunches growing up around them, are by no means calcu-
lated to lighten the domestic cares, but what is a household .
without children, and who could be selfish enough to prefe
\ aa coldness and loneliness of a fruitless union?

 

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Beadle & Adams, Publishers, 98 William St., N. Y.

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ology. A Diocnsoion. For twonty main. Tho latter. For two mun.

DIME DIA~0GUES, N0. 5.

'T'hm Guano. For ochool or nrlar. Pulling on Mr- A Cnlloqny. Fur to Join.
r :iunnt. A “ Throo Pemm' " o re. The Strnluht M it. For aovorol hoyl
H'Il d tho Curtain. For inolu and fomolu. Two Men or Lilo. A Colloquy. For to. girl.
I'm Eta Pi Society. Flu bow "1d a gulch", iExIrm-t from Morino Foliorn.
Exomlnntlou Dov. Foruovorn'l lomulo «hwton. an-try-Mym‘y- A“ ANN! Chande-
Trndin in “Tn?” Faun...“ mu... 1Tb. Six \irtuol. For nix \‘onngludlel.

goo! Bo

ThoSc TM”, 1r 5., _ .Tho lriohmon oi «no. or two moleo.
A Lam Tongu’o'. 8".n] pnlz: m“ (3.“... Fuhlonoblo' quuiromgnto. For thmfirh.
Haw Not to Got on Anowor. For two fomuloo. A Buy oil I (Eyu). lor olxlnt orlooo llth

DIME DIALOngT‘TS. (F0.  r a.
flu Wu Tho . sun Molo Id fornoloo. ho wn nnnu on. or no moloo.
n. P06: undZIKDI’I’ozwo-f!" lvo lulu. Tho Val-rider Folly For I nlmbor elk-lob
mm... 7.1L r" ‘ '5“. “hul- Aunt Bouy’o Bunx. Four (omoloo no two Inqu
wnmu'l Ritltl Sworn fonol nd worn-loo. Tho leol Bait. For two {ornqu no no Junk
, Ill I- not “all “summon. Molo and hunt». Snto Clou . For o 1mth on”;
. fo- 0...: J". Ior a; salon. Chriot-oo on... For oovovol lotto gob.
209". «woo-denim“ “of-notion. Iortwonoloo.

 

 

Dime Selle!!! menel.
DIME DIALOGUEINO. 7.

Th. two Wu. For (carton: {am-loo.
Thu ou‘henld in (Airy-la 1d. Fur glrlt.
Twany yarn haunt. Two faumlas, one lull...
Tho wny u Windham. For two mules.
, Wunnn. A pumlc Ian-nu: .n worm. Two hoyu.
' Thu 'Oll A Lu loqay. F tr 1er mnlul.
How tn go rill oh: lmm. For Luffirnl bupm
[feuding-reborn]. 'l'wnmalvc nuzl two femalu.
Plan fur Lha plunge. Fur lwu mnln.
The In: of drmmdrluking. For lhrur buyu.
True prld‘. A~¢olloquy. For two faxnnlu.
Thu two lccmrarl. bur numnruu mnlu.

4» ‘alry Xehool. For a number nl‘girls.
:mozlin allicar. 'l‘hru glril null two huyl.
n.) nu bal "ukulle For Lhme lmyp.
I'll. Irl ol um rind. Fur bhrnu girlt.

. 'ha owl 2.5mm. 'l‘wu nul n and mu fem-1h.
Mow but. nure. Sevursl nmlu and two found“.
L'nudle'n vuloclpedo. 0n: man and one liszo.
Thu fignru. For uvorul mull :hllnlrun.

I‘m trial of Puer 510p". For uven boy;

'l‘wa viuw- M 1m. can ’qu. Fur two had.
Th. rlxhu of mm. I.» My. km a.

A lapel-u mu.- A qu-ry In vem. Two ulna \
The wuuld‘be Ichaohwhzr. For um

C 1m: to 1m no men. For lhm null».

Eight u'cluck. For two lrule mrln.

’l‘ru» di;ully. A C9119 uy. Fur swa bay;

Grivl' two expamivc. }or two malnl.

Hmnlul. and the ghost. For two per-on.

Llulu ml riding hmd. Fur mo lamllu.

Nuw application ohm nlu rulu. Boy: and 3*
Coldred couslm. A calloa‘uv. 1*“: run ml.

DIM? DIALOGUES No. 8.

Getting A phuwgrnph. Mule. and hamlet
The Mcluly (or {moral imyl'uvuuloul. For (id
A uoblnmw ln (ll-gulls. flu" glrll, lit boy.
Grant exptclnlonn. Far lwv boys.

Playing ulmol. Flvo fanmlu And loin-10.
Clachu for tho Inn-wen. Um Mill, on. M
A hard cue. For Illru I10) I.

(llama. For In hauled uml on. m‘...

DIME DIALOGUEB No. 9.

Advarlldug (nr hulp. For nnmnbur ol' {annlih
Alncric- :0 England, grading. F .r uvo boyu.
Tl“ aid will Illa mw. Four remnlu one null.
Choice n! lrndon. For :wulvc Hula hoyl.

’l'hu lnp»d- ,_. For two lelnnlu.

l'ln vlctll For {our Iamniu Ind om mn‘n.
Th1 due ' l. F~r mu buyl.

Tue :ruu hllnmllhy. Far (mm 01 ml Hula.
Ago A. mllon. Forum haul».

The lam 01' human klnrlnun For two hub
Spoilud children. Far I mind uhool

Bruu'u lurl (Julius.

Curluhmu Ind Aufldlul.

Th. new uhular. Far - numb" of u'rh.

Thu ll-mado Inn. For thru

’Pba y (Hun-11(NQ, 2.) For a school.

Mrs. Lauk mul'n «one ny. 4 boys and 8 1111;
Should woman be given that hallo" Fur buys

DIM -~3 DIALOGUES No. 10.

Mn. Mark Twaln'n “10:. On: uula. on. {-xnqu.
Th. old in]. ma fnzlvul. Fur thru be I-
Thu enurl of-fnlly. For runny glrll.

Ural lives. For le hay: mm oiler .
Scuudnl For numeruuu mules and tonal...
l‘hn light of ltwn- Fa! lwo bovn.

The!»an thldnu. For luv-1}" glrll.

The ‘01! unclu. For duo: Nyn.

A Alum For qu buy!

Th. rahnml. For I uhnnl.

Th. mu m . For thru lu-yl Ind muoer
A practlcnl HI lot-nu. Fur mru girh.

Tho nvmk and tho noldlar. For kw boy»
“15.1818. thoul (all 1. For two glm.
LorJ Dundrenry'l V' 9 lulu nnrl ! {run
Wlwhu ln llu era

Fruuclunm. Chur-

, DIME DIALOGUES No. 11.

gar-nun an "IT dorelll'ul. For nix \m I.
I conundrum hml . For mule and l' a.
"can: may. Thr mlch and (our fumnlu.
Jack and the banlnlk. For flva munch-n.
Tho in to do ll MM not to do l‘. a fem-In.
Harv to calm hullh‘ymw. Mllunnd fund.-
l‘h only mu lll'e. tor twn gull.
Cln-ic colloqula. Fur two boys.

I. Gunnvul Vu- Ind Uri-Liam.

'uI. ’l‘ulcrlm nud lmj-Iut.

e: manure. For uven chm-mn-
m mad. For lav-r11 chnnclofl.
Vlmn I mu you" . Fur mo glrln.
'lu molt [IMO-II lam-mu. For “to bow
‘ha douhlo can. Two mule: and (var Wall“.
on falrlu. Forflvo lWl» girl-V
v Thru males And two Ova-III.
Sum ofth widows Fa lhnv glvh

 

Fulnmuhl. Llllllplllon. For "to ma. curb
A uhul elmndu. For two My: And we xlrh
Joan Inflow-“Son'- of Soul.” Sun.
A ‘Ibm. Vnr four boys.
“and Dlek’n on. For thru be”.
ichuol altar-ale, h‘slth mbluuiI ‘
vory In» all a “my. or '4 I"
A ull. qFor Lhr o mules,
Tlu mall pun-nun. For We be"

DIME DULQGU’ES N0. 12.

l
A amlly not to pawn mu. Ten “I
How to nun-no. AI uflng .

'l'hu vacation up“... Four w," Int] (0*
Thu naughty boy. Thru {unbound-u Ill.
Mud-nu. An lulu clan-do.

All In not [old lhu (mun. Aran: pub"
Slc inn.“ :‘arla nu“. Mug I

DIME DIAme NO. 18.

I'm o'clock in flu morn . Far mun lulu.
n lmllguubll mud“. n nv‘rnl fun-la.
J.»- nnd bullhl‘ thu- M. v Swan! durum.

‘he nublm to y A n: Infirfhyl rind mew.
u Jinanl. run yin. he girl. udbnys.
. M m hall u H mm Form ohp'mhn.
I urlnhu‘u mar-l. Fwy-n myth-albumin.
- J an "Jud-uni. r'umwm

 

labor (nil-Id.
, A in.“

Wank-um». Fnr'oorboylnm‘u I“.
Nu mnh M'II an. I'M nv-nl IM'...
Thu nlaeplmz bum"! fur-«baa .
An M'er Mrlno. Tuna-dun ml I“
014' Nnbly, 1h hum-th. Fu- lton *

41“; he mmHlm MCI. -
Penna-I with.

In mm .

 

~

mmo’ “hook “flan—muognol.

 

DIME DIALOGUE; No. 14.

U- 500“ 11M- Thu. gum mud mu lulu.
u born Kenn“. For Ivur “null.

Mon than u: :uunur. Eur {.uur "nu Ind lily.
be an arm in Ind Fur lhru girl».

Tl," “Kl” nm In In n pauper. For two top.

“oman nature will out Fur a ghin' uhool.

lE-mmllct nn-l bncllalor. For two boyl.

, 'hc cod «:1 u Llreu. MW in parlour.

Hm lurprlle puny. Fur all little giril.

- A prune-l doimmlruuon. Fur lhru bop.

Reflnumelfl. Acclnunhnndu. IONIAIGDM

Can-Gian“, tin "blur. For lad Ind [uh

How to mnko milieu bui‘y- . liar two boy.
' gummt. in two gilt

A woman'. blindnan. Fur time in

Rum" work (’l‘mnpcrnnu / Far four gunk.

The I Ml Ininlalu Far two young lulu-O.

E) u Ind 1m“. For one or.“ nml on ldy.

luuibulion. For n numfiu of boys.

DIHE DIALOGUES No. 15.

afnirin’ ounpndn. Numeruul tilnrfl'l‘"
mot’l porplaxitin. For all [lenn‘m'm'
ems cure. Fur we lmliel lm-I cm! 3““

‘4 than in In ouch. A number oi bDY"
nut union or monk. . 3'-

Wm limo philolopim

Aunt Poll 'I lauou.

A wind-i- i.

Will R

.For four Lidiu.
Acting c'mmulv. For: number.
ply! For we be”.

DIME D lALO

P ’llyr‘Anln. For fnur lmliau and one zcmlamln.

Thu mum!!! of tho windy. her A school.

Th; good they did. For nix lmliu.

the my who wim. Fur nix uantlcuen.

(food-Dy d1]. A celioquv. l-‘or tin-“girli-

'U lick Wu" mm. For Linn. bun.

Th: iuvulikuflug conimlflau. Fur nino lull-I-
cvnur ” Lu ruguu. For {our boys.

Thu heir-Mara. For nnrnorou mniu

l).-n'l. believ' what you bur. For um! ... C
Amiah mm. For lhruallxllu.

The chief» finch/u. Extract. For twn mule.
Tuning her Iriumlu. For uvornl ehurnclurn.
Tins iomigxmr‘u L uublel. For lwo ludiu.

'l‘lm uuvithout m. muvr. Suvarnlclnrnokn.

Nulurll selection. Frr lhru gentle-In.

GUES No. 16.

The lmpl of flu: hunk room. for five girls.
The boururl. A Ck'lllflli‘y. For m .1 Huh. girl.
Kin)”: {unumL For "him! liuig Kira.
Simmxam. Churndu. _l‘ or luveml mm".
Tuiing im- neholnn. hr numerumwholum
’l‘hu wurld in win“ in main: il ’i‘wo firla.
The chi and the nut. For giuntmn Md

DIME DIALOGUES No. 17.

L-HLI POI-Kl, IPIICIIII AND DIALOGUIJ.

Wok).-

. I you mm. M mud. For mo mile
[1 In in:

one hoy.

Eungwant glory. For u buy of boyl.

Th0 hula pauclmnkcr. For lwu little girls.

“ hut um |riundl. For we linla girlu.

Manlm Wulnngkl Ion party. For live link
Klrll'ill old-liuxu wnumn
l'u Nil than in ill IL PM two young bou-
lu and {m-llnh lime zirl. For [we mm.

A Ikiid'n'i-vquiriu. Fnr n HII|I child umi lunch".

T‘lls tank-n3 club. For m.- gzrk and othun

l' 'm to du it. For two huyn.

A lilaudnd ynnrl L-i came. l-‘nr boy nnrl girl.

Don 1 Iran he... Fm wverll Imnll hop.

Aha" the Ikiua. h-r two Iillll“ girls.

u trim hummn. For thru lilllu hoyl.

Give III litlln boy: I. ehnucc: 'l he “cry of Hi:
plum pudding; ['h he a man; A All“. Km"
r'gh‘u lynch; Jnlmny’u opinion of grand-
I‘I'mmrlz "l'h- bouniuu hrn: He now. P
Yul; A mull buy] viuv of corul; Robby!

~; Wm (lumen another For 6 lull-t.
L"""“"K Malinda. For 3 503.: and l lmly.
new scholar. For uvornl h )1.
ho liulc inurcnmr. Fur {-rur lmiiu.
nu Far 8 ultimo» Null 3 Julia.

DIME DIALO

artwful-ymn. Two {cumin uni va null“-
wwmx. For five um. bog/l. .
' houu that lulnul For |hrnu PM”? K“.-
‘Dclikr-In uncle. Thrn m-lu uni (h’u amnion.
I d to “Ad poor. A mm
"' Wpla no lnund. A,
f ’0'. Actiuu chunk.
A H ' ""d‘ 1"" “RHYM ru-
Hvd, I

* wish“. for neural clunclcrl.
1» WI hm“ athorn. ‘1 mule: mni l i'unmla.
.I’uedy by half. l-‘or threw mnlel.

(uln' law.
“ dvuI.' '
For bu clay-run.

may":
“In”

DIME 'DIALO

nermun; Nolefl hild ; Nani-gal pulp.
Gray in; Little View of him goluuihm
ul‘muveud Amaricn; um. lrl‘l wiry: Lita
ll! bm’l lynch on film; A ml. buy I k
as; The midul in murdcr- Robb) Roh‘l In
ind urmon; or flu buiwy am; A Loy'l
ubsqvniouu; Thu nuv line; A mushcr’l
lo"; Tho cruuwuin’ lury ; Baby Lulu ; Juli:
Billing: on "I. bum ll-I‘¢8,Wlfln,

Died yuuerdny; 'l'ho chiekul'n mi I

huir nppnrmi; Dolivor III from uni; Uon‘l
mum in in good: On] I drunkrn Irliow:
Thu two liuhs robinl; Ilow n condemn;
A nomenu lulu; Llulo boy‘n dnclumntmi; A
child‘n du-nlre: Hogan; Th. zuhlin ut' Fuh-
n-duh; Cnluimly ; Link uhuflurbox; “ hu-
nro Hwy; A hoy’n View; Tho "until [rag-ll
Going h: school; A marlin; bath: ’i‘ho m
of Dundu ; A funny; in Lhn l'lnli hr; Th.
new inid egg; The Hill: muriciun; dh BoL'
Pamry-mnn ; Tim: Ind new.

.
GUES Ho. 18.
Give I do]: 1: ha 1 mum. For iaur
Spring-thus wl’hol. For le lilLZc '
Lost Charla; or. Ihu gipry": rav-
merom ciuraclurl.
A link lump. l-m the. little boys
liurul times. For '2 gniillclurn and 4 indi-l
Thu h-unn well worth lu'ulug. )‘hr iwc min
and two lumnlu.

GUES, N0. 19.

Thu retinal nimp‘lawnl. Fur [vur hull“.
11. member Bunion. For Him: main.
Mndvln education. Thru mnln uni nno lulu].
Mlll will: too much lore. For llmn main.
Ihu l'uiry’g Inning. Dra- yiocl. For (we '1!)-
Aum Eunmo‘n upman For mm].
Tho nutcran 0 G. Twofunllun-dm
“3"” in" lo mom “0 h.- .0! .-
nd two Inn-Icy.
.Al oil-hirion M
flow I. m that.

ninth-mu
r

 

 

 

/

 

'Dlmo Behool noun-mum“.
DIME DIALOGUES, No. 20.

The wrung lune. Three min end three t'elnelee An air cnetie. Fur tire Inan end three femin-

 

  

   

Ate-moon culin. l‘u - two little gull. City mennrr- end country linnrin. For three (tr
Nod'e prmnt. For nrboyl. end one ho .

Judge nut. For tnecher II‘.‘ eelernl Icholan. The nilly dis For twu nrle end menu.
Tellmxdreunn. For {our little i'oike. Not onu than 'or t’uur mele chereelere.

   
  

Saved by love. For two hove. Foot-mint. l-ur numerone riumuter .
Mintnken identity. Two mnlee and three fern-i e. Keeping board-re. 'l'wo rm lel end three melee.
Couldn't reed Englleh. For 3 main and] .emAle. A cure tor good. One iedynntl two gentlemen.

A little VennViue. For nix little girie. The crednluue wine-urn. l-or two melon.
“Sold.” For three boys. 1
DIME DIALOGUES. N o. 21.

t numenelui donntlon party. For uvernl. iMan- llutinp'relurn. For (our melee.
Out of debt out of denser. For three innlee end Cunt reun. For urrrnl children.

three feinelee. i’l‘m- much for Aunt hintiidn. For three femrl
Little Red Riding Hood. Fur two children. “Wit against wi e. Three fem-lee endnn. t... i
“m Ille nan-lo lllill rop'tsc. A ninet. ‘A nudden recovery. For line inniol. J
The home an the hi  Fur fuur (unziiel. "l‘he double unit-gem. For tour funnies.
Evidence men; 1. Fur twn nnlee. Counting chit-lune befn-re they were heteliedm
\Varth nnd wenith

 

For four feat-lee. 1 Fun luur melee. i

Weterfnll. For no end.

DIME DIALOGUES. No. 22.

The Dark Cupid: or, the mietnku at n morning. l'itnniu‘l banquet. Fur e number ofgirle.

For three gentlemen end two indies. Buy: will he boyn. Fur two boyn end one gill.
That Ne’eNlu-weli: or, e hruther'n leeun. Fur A ruiuy tiny; or. the ritual-girl philmyher .
tum melee anti tzvo {eumleh For three young ladlel.
High Art: or thu nnw mania For two girie. God ie have. Fur n number “(edit-inn. ‘
StrungJ ndvmtnral. For two boyn. The wey he managed. For 9 melee. 9 Inuit-e-
Tlle king's Inpper. For (our girls. andnngo. Veriuttn cherectere, white e-d “I!

A prnrticai nxninpliflcntiun. For two buye. w re.

Mumieur 'l’hie-e in America; or, Ynnkee VI. The little deftor. Fortwe tin girle.
Frenchman. For i'uur bnyn. A tweet revenge. Fur t‘unrbo

Dairy'n diplomncy. 3 (omelet nnd‘ineidentnle.’ A May tiny. l-‘ur three little pr e.

A Frenchmen; or, the outfitted wut. For two Frnm thanuhlime to the ridiculoul. For M melee.
India And one gentlemen. Hurt not fece. Fer five bayn.

l
l
DIME DIALOGUES, No. 23. i

  

mm Hunt'l remedy. For life min-.1 uule. lA benr get den. Fur three nmlu,’twe tel-eke.
limu Seltznidt'e rec-uninvmi. For tw) melee. i'i‘he busy been. Fur i'nur l-ttk xirie.

V Clay“ Md Grunible. For two i till! now , .Checkumte. Fer nnmerenn ehrnctnre.
Tue plum tam deuuunntl. Fur nix (amulet. 'Sehmii time: Fur two little [irie -
Does it pnyl Fer nix melee. Ell-nth rene. 9 print ipei cheruterl end edjunrte.
Company .nnnnere unll home linpoiitenenn. FonDrneennd geld. Set-uni cit-meters, Inele end {3- '

  

 

 
     

   

 

two melee, twa fnmniee and two children. 1 me e.

Th elml ilnyu. l-‘nr two little hnyl. 5(‘anluund Mill For three melee, two {one} s 5
Unfortunate Mr. llruwn. For i nmieJ fennel”. ignorance u. a. For eleven melee. .
The real cont. hr twa girls. . .l’ednntn ull. 'or four fem-lee.

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 24. ,

The god lane of ilbrrtr. For nine ynnng lndien. The nix brave men. For eix boye.

The three am". For three little irirln. Have you heard the newe!

.‘l'he xnnlic direct -r. Fnr neven nmlel. 'iiie true qu.» n. Twn young glrln. ‘
A ntrengn n.~cret. For three uirie. A nlight mieteke. ( melee, i lemele, end We '
An uwjnrt men. For {our males. n i nnrilinriee. ’-
l‘hn nil-1p girl‘l v‘ctury. l male. 3 femelee. Lazy and bury. Ten little fellown. , ‘
The yeychome . 9 gentlemen. ‘) iedinn. The old anti young. i gentlemen, 1 little fl i l
Men in no word nr it. For {our izidien. Thnt postal and. :l inaliee end i gentlemen .
\Vliiwnicni. A nunber of ehnract‘n, both nexee. Mother Goon end her household. A i ‘
Bieued m the pltmlumkefl. Seven )uullg zirie. i IGle i'ency dreu diele_u: end true-tie.

DIME DIALOGUES. No. 25. .

The eoeietiel n! the deiectnblen and in miur- The true uee ni' weeltli. Fore whole wind. I 

 

  

 

 

nblue. For two indies nnd tw‘n gentleman. Cniuetter. Fur numernue theretterl.
\Vlnt 'Mll would he", 6 little bnyi & teacher. l‘nt ynureelf in hie piece. Far two Mye. 9'
Sun hinn through the eiuudn. For fuuv lediu. Liitin wise beetle. Fnr {our little girll. ’
The friend in need. For (our initial. The regenerntore. Fur five have.
The houre. For twelve little riril. Crnblren‘e «racing. Sever-i chenetern.
In door: eu-l out. For are little bnyt. integrity the hem «(Ilium-cue. The null-
Dingbete. For une melon end i'unr i'einelne. A crank-d wm' mule “night. One genial“ a
The penmi nt‘ denh. For three beyn. ‘ nntl nne indy. ' .
en" a! the will»: 'I mixed cheater; How Ie “ Meet in " you; tune. Tu W '
Gena wnrdl. or e number n! buye. end one gentle-ea. ' e f-

 

A Mend. l’er e number of little lirle.

' "The-bore bookemeoidbylfewedulere u where,"le bequ h
“dunge- reeeipte! price, lo mte use. u, ‘ I

m.“ b “All. PINleheee. .0 VIII- “.I. ‘0'

 

 

 

    

lulu. .
INCH.

marl
nu i V

“shod”.

2;

flu.
or .

5
ml“. §
«but ‘

 

' I
inch 4
nd {0- 2
IL; 1. f
' Q
, ,
 ;
- i
f i
l m— a'
I'. 

:x:.-*-::':::‘:'=s-.   -

 

 

p . *‘m ‘
x
1
I , " x ’ ' v”? -
r ‘. 7 ‘

 

THE ILLUMINATED DIME

POCKET NOVELS!

PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY.
NOW READY, AND IN PRESS.

No. l—llnwkeye Harry the Young
Trapper Ranger. Bv bll Coomen.

No. 2 "Dead Shot; or, The White Vulture.
By Albert. W. Aiken.

No. B—The Bog Mlnern; or The En-
chanted mund. v Edward 5. Elila.

No. 4-Blue Dick; ur,The Yellow Chlaf‘a
Vengeflnce. BV Cu at. Mayne Reid.

No. 5~Nat 01 e: 0r, The Gold-Hunts".
By Mrs. M. V. Victor.

No. fi—The White Tracker; or, Tbs
Panther of the Plnins. Br Edwin] S. Ellln.
No. Y—The 0utlaw’n Wife: or, The Val-

ley Ranthe. By Mrs. Ann Slephens.
No. S-The Tull Trapper; or, Thu Flow-
er ol’the Blnckfcut. By Albert W. Aiken.
No. 9—nghtnlnfi Jo, the Terror of
the Santa Fe ‘rnll. My Capt. Adinns.
No. 10 —'l‘he lulnnd Pirate. A Tale of
the Mississippi. iiy (‘nptnin Mnyne Rrid,
No. 14Tho Boy Ranger: or. The Heir-
(535 nl tilt: Gnlden Horn. By 011 Comm-s.
No. 12-13mm, the Trapper. A Tale or
the Fur South-west. By Edward S. Ellis.
No. Iii-The French Spy: or, This Fall
of Montreal. By W. J. Hamilton.

No. l4—Long Shut; or, The Dwnrquide.
By CA )L Cuniatock.

Nu. ngl‘he Gunmnkcr of the Bor-
der. By Jam-'3 L. linwrll.

No. lG—Red fluid; or, The Channel
Scourge. By A. (i. l‘iper.

No. 17—Bcn, the Trapper or, The
Mountnin Demon. My Mnj. Lewis '. Carson.

No. 18 «Wlld Raven, the Ranger; or,
The Missing: Guide. By ()ll (innings.

No. l9~The Specter Chlef; or, The In-
dian'a Revenge. By Sculin Robins.

No. 20~The B’ar-Klller; or, The Long

ti-K
Nat; or, The Cedar Swamp
Brigade. By Win. R. Eyater.
No. 22 AIIIdlan Jo. the Gulde. By
Lewis W. Canon.
No. 23-0111 Kent, the Ranger. By
Edu-nrd S. Ellis.
No. 24—The line-Eyed Trapper. By
Capt. Conntnuk.
No. 254Godhold, the Spy. A Tale of
Arnold's Trrnson. B\' V. C. iron.
No. 26 —The Black Ship. By John S.
Warner.
No. 27—Slngle Eye, the Scourge. By
Vir'nri'en St. Julin.
No. SIS—Indian Jim. ATale of the Min-
nesutn Maximum. By Edward S. Ellla.
29—The Scout. BI; Warren St. John.
No. 30.—Engle Eye. 3- W. J. Hamilton.
sl—The Myntlc Canoe. A Romance
urn Hundred Years Ago. By Edward S. Eli's.
No. BB-The Golden llnrpoon; or, Lult
Among the Flues. Bv Huger Starbnrk.
Nfi. 38—The Scalp King. By Lleut. Ned
ullter.
No. 84-01({Lnte’ the Indian-fighter:
or, The Dan In the Hills. By E. W. Archer.
No. 85—Rnlnholt, the Ranger: or, The
Demon of the Mountain. By 011 Cooines.
Ethan—The Boy Ploneer. By Edward
5. I is.
No. 87—09110!» the Guide or, the Per-
ils of the Frontier. By Lieut. J. . Randolph.
No. BS—The llenrt Enter or,The Pro-
phet of the Huliow Hill. By i any Hazard.
No. 39--Wetzel, the Scout; or,The Cup—
tivel ofthe Wildcrnesa By Bo‘rnton Belanp.

 

No. 40-The [Inge Hunter: or, ha
Steinn Man of the Prairies. 1h I‘l-I. S. Eilll.
No. 4l—Wlld Nat. the Trnpper. i y
i'nnl Prescott.

No. 42~Lynx-capz or, The Sioux Track.
By Paul him...

No. 48~The White Outlaw; or, Tha
Bandit Brigund. By Hurry Huznrd.

No. 44AThe Dog Trnller. By Freder-
ick Denev

Lg. (“ii—The Elk Klng. By Capt. Chan.

0“an .

No. 46—Adrlan, the Pllot. By Col.
I‘renlim hurnlnnn.

fig. llll'fl'l‘he Man-hunter. By Marc 0.

n w

No. *The Phantom Tracker. Iy
h .. rk Dewey.
' 49*Vlou-mdn Bill. By Paul Blhhg.
- . fio—The “'olt’ Queen. ByCupmm
('Imv lv-n Hnwnrd.

No. 517 Tom llnwk, the Trailer. By
I r“ is .Tnv Sn ilt.

N 52 rThe Mud Chlef. By Captain

( l “uni.

No. —’l‘he Black “’nli’. l y Edwin Ii.
Ewing.
“ it‘ll—Aranqu Jack. By Harry

:iznn ,

PM». 55—lilnt-kbenrd. By Pnnl Bihhs.

Na. {)6 v'l‘hc Rh‘cr Rll’ler. By Billu
. u. ~.

No. 5?—]lnnter llnm. EFF. Edgar lllfl.

ho. Bfificloudwoml ‘ or, me Daughter oi
the “'ildenves‘. My .1. $1. Merrill.

No. 59—-The Texan Hawks. By 105. E.
BndL’er. Jr.

N’ol. 601-7Mercllctln Mat. Bndpt.Chnl.

nwnri .

No. 61~Mnd Anthony’s Scouts. By
Elm-ran R- dinln.

No. (Ev—The Lur-klenn Trap er: or,
The Hnnnlml Hunk-r. By Willinm {.E35trr.

No. -- e Flurldn Sci-ut; M, The
Prim-use of the Everglades. By Juq. E. But.
per, . r.

Nu. 64—The Islnnd Trapper. Bndpt.
(Thus. Howard

No. {iii—“'olf-Cnp. Bs' CiphChns. How-

nrd.
No.d66—Rnttlln2Dlek. By Hurry Hal.

HT .

N3. 67—thrp-Eye. ByMnjor Max Mar-

lllt‘.

No. 68——Irun-lland. By Frederick For-
csl.

(iii—The Yellow Hunter. By Cnpt.
Chas. Htlwnrd.
N3. EOEThc Phantom Rlder. By Mun
. 0 (‘w

No. 71—]Ielnwnre Tom. By Harry Hu-
nr: .

No. 12-Sllver Rifle, the Girl Trailer
Randy .Vinrril mu.

No. 78#The Skeleton Scout: ar, the
Border Bilu'k. Henlh' April lUlh.

N0. 24—thtle Rifle, or, the Young Fur
Huntvrs. Remiv April 24th.

No. 75—TheW'ood “'itch, or, tha Squat.
er': Secret. Reinh- May am.

No. 76~01d Ruff, the Trnpper; or, th.
Young Fur Hunters 0! CnluinbiL, Ready
Mny ‘lfld.

Nu. 7?——The Scarlet Shoulders: or,
the Miner Rangers. 15y Hurry Hazard. Rudy
June 61h.