RED LIGHTNING: ' " 

on,

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I THE BLACK LEAGUE.~  ,.

I r \\‘t

A TALE OF THE TRADING-POSTS IN 1760.

; BY W. J. HAMILTON, }
- 5 , AUTHOR. on m muowmo mm mm: v
V 13 THE FRENCH SPY. 1'34 GIANT PETE. ‘
30 EAGLE-EYE. 138 MAID OF THE Momm. ' ’
102 WILD Rama. 144 Tm: Rm» Seaman. ’ _
110 Max, THE SCOUT. 165 WILD NAT. ‘
112 Tm: Cnossnn KNIVES. 174 Tm; BORDER VFNGEANCE.

‘ 1.2 KIT BIRD. 176 THE Eozxs or LIBERTY.

.~. 180 THE PRAIRIE SCOURGE. "

       
 

, ' NEW YORK: 1 _\
BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, . ,
“I as WILLIAM STREET. ‘ ' '

hora-wording to Act of Congreu.in"e year In.
BEADLE AND COMPANY.
, Emmoonha Libnmn of Corpus: 3'. w-um

 

 

CHAPTER I.
ma m'r'rns: morass.

A canon was floating slowly on the waters of the Detroit
river, under the shelter of the strip of land now known as
“ Fighting Island,” containing a single occupant. a young man
in the dress of a ranger, one of those wonderful men—half
soldier, half hunter, and all scout—who have done so much
‘to make this country famous. The canoe was of birchen
bark, and constructed with consummate skill, evidently by an
Indian hand. The young man were a hunting-shirt of tanned
buck-skin, soft as beaver, and ornamented with bulll'on fringe

: and gilt buttons. A broad black belt was strapped about his
waist, and in it hung a pair of pistols and a heavy knife, very
much like the bowie now in use, and heavy enough to cleave
a man to the waist at a single blow. In the bow of the ca-
noe lay a ponderous rifle, such as the frontiermen used at that
time, and a most deadly weapon in practiced. hands.

The man himself was young, as we have said, with a heavy,
drooping mustache, a face bronzed by sun and wind, and I
bold, determined eye, and to all appearance a person not
likely to shrink at the near approach of danger. A handsome
fellow, too, and one likely to please the eye of a woman. He
«lid not appear to be in haste, nor to desire to leave the shel-
ter of the island, for the paddle just touched the water lightly

I from time to time, and that only to keep the canoe in the

eddy in which she was drifting, while his keen eyes scanned

’ the shores from end to end, in expectation of some one's ap-
proach.

l" I wish the Delaware would come,” he murmured. “ Ho

v-ls not the man -to daily when d'uty'   and I want to

,‘ Whacktobetroit": "" “ ' “ ” "'"3  "3‘4"" v

 

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RED LIGHTNING;  

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10 up Home.
At this moment the cry of a cathird, repeated three times,
‘sonncled from the shore, and the young scout dropped the
paddle into the water with vigorous force, sending the head
of thv- i-anoe whirling ahnr.t until it lay nearly at right-angles
with no.4- nnrront. Then heading his muscular arms "to the
uh»: V1.4. Hm 1:0 light craft SLtll niner across the stream, and
mph-d “pull a white strip of sand, under the overhanging
(molt. “heri- he drew the canoe Hp out of the water, and flare
* a low whistle. A umment after. a tufted head was cautiously
protruded over the bank above, and a pair of keen eyes
7 looked down upon him. . '
_ “ Come down, Ketadin," said the scout, impatiently.
have been waiting for you." .

The man above parted the bushes, and with an agile spring,
landed upon the sand. He was a tall young Indian of the
Delaware nation, with an open, ingenuons face and a straight,
sinewy form, a model of forest strength. His dress was of
light calico, belted at the waist to hold his tomahuwk and
knife. and in his hand he carried a rifle similar to the one in
the how of the canoe. The two men clasped hands, and it
was plain that a real afl'ection existed between them, the af-
fection which springs up in the hearts of brave men, who

, have shared danger together.
_ ‘fKetadin, my brother," said the white man, “my heart
is very glad to meet you again." [ _ ,

“ And the Delmvare is happy when he can take his brother,
the Trailer, by the hand.” replied the Indian Both spoke
in the language of the Delawiirea, for the chief could not
manage the English language very well. and the Trailer
knew the language of every Indian tribe from the Hudson to
Michilimaokimic. /

“I

“ My brother has 'been long upon the trail," said the,

Trailer, looking at the (hiSty moccasins of his red friend.
" Has he any thing to sing in the ears of his whitebrothnr ‘3”
‘ "‘ He has not hr en asleep," replied the Indian. gravely. “for
the Wyuntlot and the Ottawa are on the trail, and they do

gnot. love the Delaware." ~ . ‘ ' '

a: . ‘,‘.I, reckon it any of them fellhfloul of you they got rubbed
9“." kid the Trailer, with a low laugh.)

 

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“ Two,” was the sententious reply. “ An Ottawa and
rWyandot slept by a fire in the forest. and one of [them had a
scalp in his belt which had long hair, soft as silk. It was

' taken from the head of a woman. A Delawm'e who » is a
man does not take the scalp front any but a 'nrrior killed in
open battle. I sounded my war-cry and they rose and
fought.”

“ And went under, I'll go bail.” I y

“ Their soalps are in my bosom,” replied the Indian, quietly.

V “Were the rascals painted for war?" ‘

"‘ u Yes.”

' ‘ The young scout looked troubled.

“I don’t like this,” he said. " The French are not idle,
and in my opinion we shall have lively times along this river
if we are not very careful. The Indians are treacherous, and

. _ there is no telling whatltnoment they may rise."

I - ’~ ‘ " Let the red-coats in the fort keep both ‘cyes open.” said

 

 

 «v, the Indian, “ and let them beware of the great. Pontiac, for
,4, . he is a warrior who loves his country, and would have it all
’1  ' for the Indians." -
 , ‘ “ Red Lightning is in the Indian country,” said the Trailer,
" still in deep thought. “ I know it, for a Wyandot told me so
 ' i are few days ago. What is he doing there ‘5'"
' Q}: I “The French have not ,forgotten,” replied the Indian.
4 “ Listen. Seven suns ago I was on the trail toward Michili-

,mackinac, and saw red warriors coming from every road, all‘
going toward one point. Upon the road I passed the Little
r; , 3" 1 Prophet of the Ottawas going the same way.”
I If". ' “ Little Prophet l"

“ Ugh.”
V ' “Then by Heaven the danger is closer than we thought

r ‘3 When the Little Prophet is sent out to gather the triht s, “e
3‘, may know that a rising is near at hand. And yet, Pontiac
 preaches patience. and says that the tribes will not lift the
.ciéf’ hatchet against us.”
{its} ‘ /At this moment a sound scarcely distinguishable above the
' ordinary sounds of the forest, could he heard by the keen ears
L V of the Indian, and he lifted his hand to enforce silence,an
 companion, who was already 'upon the alert. Both were‘
'4'too‘welltrained in forest wiletnot to noueethe slightest.“
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vietien from the usual sounds to be heard, and yet the noise

was nothing more than the snapping of a dry twig. Ketadin _\
turned, and with a single agile leap, bounded up the bank, ‘ ‘
and a short, sharp struggle, accompanied by shrill cries of rage ‘
in a singularly weak and piping voice, was audible to the
young man below. A moment after the young Indian came
bounding buck, holding in his arms what appeared to be an
Indian boy, but, as his face turned toward the Trailer, it was
that of a man of middle age, a shrunken, weazen-faced man,
whose hight did not exceed three feet. Ketadin plumped the
little imp down upon the sand, and stood looking contempt-
uously upon him, while the manikin leaped to his feet, danc-
’ing up and down the sod in a fury, uttering wild, eldritch.
screams of anger, and beating the air with his clenched fists.

“ Little Prophet, by Jove,” cried the Trailer. “ Now, you
little hop-o'-my-tliutnb, tell me what you are doing here." \

, The dwarf only answered by a malignant glance, and con.
tinued to dance wildly up and down the sand. The Trailer
drew a pistol and pointed it at his head, when be instantly
doubled up like a ball, and fell upon the sand, without mov-‘
'ing a muscle.

» “ What was the little thief doing up there, Delaware 1’” de-
manded the Trailer, turning to the chief.

" lle lay with his ear close to the ground listening to our
words."

“ The cursed spy l" cried the Trailer. “ Get up, unle- you
want me to put a ball through your shriveled carcass. Get
up, I say."

The dwarf obeyed, and stood before the white man with
his arms folded upon his breast, his eyes cast down, and an V,
air of deep humiliation about him. In, ,__'.

“Now, speak up,” said the Trailer, “ or I‘ll drop you into 'V
my pocket and button it up on you. What were you doing

1 up there 1’” ‘
“ Sleep," piped the ridiculous specimen of humanity in, his
, shrill voice. “Sleep much.” ‘
’ “ You lie, Little Prophet. Who ever knew you to sleep
upon a trail?" ' ’ ' t
’ . , ‘ “ Very tire ;- much tire," was the answer, delivered in 'fl-
"  it  “Walk much." \ ' . '

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" I reckon I’ll have to lick you, my sweet youth. ‘ Come
here to me.” I
He caught the dwarf by the collar with both hands, lifted
him from the ground, and shook him until his teeth fairly ..‘
rattled in his head, while the little scoundrel kept uttering ‘
piercing cries, more of rage than fear. ‘
“Blood, blood, blood,” he hissed. “I smell blood in the » 9
air." ’
“ You‘ll smell blood in your nose in about half a second,
you little thief. Come; what were you doing up there ‘3"
“ Sleep," persisted the Little Prophet. “ Sleep too much."
“ Who sent you to follow the Delaware ?" V
“Come myself; go to Detroit and see white friend. Jus’
come,” replied Little Prophet, in such evident sorrow that it
was plain he spoke the truth. . ,
" Then get out of this. Let me see you again anywhere / _
near Detroit and I'll tie you neck and heels and pitch you ’ t ‘
‘into the river." '
The hint was enough. The dwarf, bounding up the
rlow bank, quickly disappeared in the depths of the surround-
ing woods.
“That little rascal ought to be killed,” said the Trailer,
“ but I can’t find it in my heart to do it, because it looks so
much like hunting a child." '
“ Little Prophet very bad man," said the Delaware. “ Ought
to take his scalp."
“Let him go; he can‘t do us any harm. Push out the

They took their places. and under their united strokes the. i
come glided upward swiftly, between the low. {.een bunks.

 

  

CHAPTER II.‘

DETROIT. ROSE ST. AUBIN.

Tms frontier settlement, about which the events here set
down occurred, was founded in 1701 by a Frenchman, Le
Motte Cardillac by name. From its first inception, it seemed
fitted by natural advantages to become a place of note, and in

. a. few years a flourishing settlement of twenty-five hundred

souls sprung up about the fort which Cardillac had built.

The French are an improvident people, but lovers of beauty,

and their neat houses were surrounded by thriving orchards

- 'and inelosed by white palings. The fort, or more properly
fortified portion of the town, stood upon the western bank of
the river, upon the site of the present city of Detroit.
sisted of about one hundred houses, built closely together, and
surrounded by a palisude.

Theirs was a happy, careless life at Detroit.
ly improvident Canadians Were made more so by the ease with
which they subsisted. The forest was full of game of every
sort, the river swarmed with fish, and myriads of wild fowl
Occupied the marshy land. Even the long winters were a
source of social enjoyment, for then the voyageur, hunter and
trader came to Detroit, and passed the days in dancing, ca-
rousel and merry meetings.

' The French had always lived at peace with thetlndians, al-
though parts of three ditlerent tribes were within the limits
of the settlement. On the western shore, a short distance
south of the fort, the Pottawatomies were camped. 0n the
eastern side, nearly opposite this tribe, the Wyandots’ vil-
lage was located ; while, five miles up the stream Pontiac and,
his Ottawas hat] their place of abode. These three tribes and

I the French, from the conciliatory policy of the former, had;
never quarreled,and until the advent of the English had never

" ' dreamed of. trouble. But Rodgers and his Rangers came and

. the fort fell, and Pontiac agreed to live in peace with'theEn;

«glish if they would treat him with the respect due a great

4

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m BRIGHT STAB.

’ chief. But, for some time, an evil thought had been rankling
in the bosom of the chief. He saw that, by a bold stroke,
the small force of the English cosld be cut otf at Detroit and
its sister posts, and he was contriving a plan to destroy them.
Yet this man stalked among the whites, when he chose,
cloaking his dreadful purpose under the mask of India! stoi-
cism. which he knew well how to assume.

Major Gladwyn commanded the force at this'post. He had

ka‘wut one hundred and twenty regulars, who had fought ln-~ ‘
dians before, and a still more efllclent force in this kind of
fighting, a number of half-breeds and scouts, devoted to his ‘
service, and up to all the tricks and devices of the Indians.
Among the most trusted in this band of scouts, and the must
esteemed by the major, was Edward Gresham, fmniliarly
known as “the Trailer,” from his scouting propensities, and
who held a sort of command over the force of hordermcn.

This explanation will suffice.

The Trailer and Ketadin reached the fort, and the white 1
man was at once closeted with the major, to whom he made, '
his report. This done. he emerged frpm the fort, and went
out into the scattered portion of the settlement, while the
Delaware remained within the palisade. \

Just on the outskirts of the settlement was a. neatly-built '
cottage, standing in the midst of a thick growth of thriving
fruit trees, and howered in by vines as only a Frenchman
knows how to grow them. A neat fence surrounded the clot-
tege, and, swinging open the gate, Gresham walked rapidly up
the walk and rapped at the door. A light step was heard in-
side, the latch was lifted and a. beautiful girl stood npon the
threshold. She was not tall, rather ot a petite figure, but beau,-
tifully formed, and graceful as a fawn. Her hair was of, a
rich golden brown, and gleamed like gold where the surniight
fell upon it. Her mouth seemed made for kisses, smiling,
sweet. She was the fairest flower that bloomed in that fron-
tier post, the toast of all, from the major in command of the
post to the voyagenrh Rose St. Aubin, poetieall y name
“ Bright Star ” by the Indians. 7 ,

“ Edward l” she cried, “ I am glad you have come."

He‘made nonudible answer, but drew her close to him, and t

\ ' ,

 

  

, i

BED. LIGHTNING.

betrdthed, and every one said it was a lovematch. But, half
hidden by the vines which shaded the garden walk. a man
'crouehed who saw the meeting, and who gnawed his lips un-
. til the blood started, and twice laid his hand upon a weapon,
and as often withdrew it. There was one at least who did
not wish to see Rose St. Anhin married to the hold scout.
This man, crouching mnong the leaves, saw the tender greet—
ing, and, as the door closed upon them, rose from his half re-
cumbent posirion, shaking his clenched fist at the. house.
“ Go your ways, you two," he muttered, “ but a cloud
hangs over this village which will one day burst and over-
,whelm it. I say it, I, and these lips never lie where venge-
ance is to be appeased. Rose St. Auhin, fair but false, a dan-
ger hangs over you and your wild lover which no power can
avert.”

He drew back, and stealing softly away through the or-
chard, leaped the paling and reached the river-side, where a
canoe lay upon the bank. Pushing it into the water, he took

I \,,up the paddle, and bending his strength to the work, shot rap-
idly up the stream toward the north. '
Rose St. Aubin, still holding her lover’s hand, led him into
the little parlor, tastefully furnished, and adorned with many
little articles of woman‘s workmanship. which go so far to
beautify a home like this. The windows were open, and a
pleasant fragrance from the honeysuckle and grape-vines filled
the room. They sat down upon a low settle. covered with
chintz, and Gresham looked tenderly into the fair face beam-
ing with love for him.

,2 t,‘

, o

weeks we have been parted 1’” v

" Well, Edward ; as happy as I can bewhen you are away,
and in danger.”

f‘ The life of a horderman is fraught with danger always.‘I
replied the young man. “ I must take my chances with the
rest, of course. Where is'your father ?"

“ He has gone to the Wyandot ,village to trade with the
, natives.”

/ ,

damethlng of importance to tell him. Hal what is that?”
 A sharp, whining sound was heard, and an arrow

i

“ My darling," he said, softly, “ how have you been, in the '

“Ah; when he comes back I must see him, as I have \ t



  
  
   
  
   
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 

 

 

     
 

 

 

ACLOSEBHAVE.

between the pair, and remained quivering in the wall, within
a foot of Gresham’s head. So closely had it passed, indeed,
that he felt the feather brush against his hair, and he knew
that some enemy had sought his life. Springin},r l0 his feet,
the young scout run to the window, dushell aside the inter-
posiug vmes, which alone haul saved his life, :1an the next
moment was in the garden, a pistol in his hand. looking
fiercely about mm for an enemy. Rose called to him to re-
turn, but, unheeding her voice, he darted into the orchard,
and searched everywhere for the Indian he believed to lie
concealed there.
plored every nook and cranny, no one could be found, and
with a moody and lowering brow, he returned to the house.

“ What is it‘?" whispered Rose. “ Whose life do they seek,
yours or mine ‘3"
Y “ Mine," replied the Trailer, “ but I will be too much for
them in the end.” '

“ Whom do you suspect?”

“ I am not loved too much by the ultra men in either of
the tribes, for I know them too well.”

“ Have you given any of them particular cause to hate
5'9“ ?"

“ Yes; the Little Prophet of the Ottawas. ' By heaven, it
can be no other.”

" Look here,” cried Rose, pulling the arrow from the wall.
" What is this paper ?”

Wrapped about the shaft of the arrow was a narrow strip
of paper, which Rose took off, and read with dilated eyes.

“ 7?) Edward Gresham, known as ‘ the Trailer‘ .'

“ The knell of your doom is tolling. If you would save your
life, put as many miles as you can between yourself and De-
troit, this very day. Every hour you pass here is another nail
in your coffin. Heed the warning from the Great Brotherhood.

“ C or V.”

“ This is melodramatic," said Gresham, laughing. “ Give
me, that paper, Rose, as it may serve at some time to identify
this man, who may then look out for me. Leave Detroit?

/

, Not I !" . I , ..
7 ‘f Yet this warning is given in earnest, EdWard," said Rose.  /
'   yenr‘huve melons youind run away like a coward, '

He searched in vain, for, althouuh he ex: ,

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‘ no name.

. because I have received an anonymous letter? Bah, '[ an

5;]; < not so easily disposed of, as this fellow shall find, if he ever

 has occasion to measure strength with me. His impudence

Its amazing, and'ought to meet its reward "

“ I fear you are in great danger, Edward,” replied the girl.

5, , “ Not more than I must expect. ] have made myself ene-

‘ ‘ r7 mics, it is true, but chiefly for the reason that I am faithful
I to the interests of my own countrymen. We are of different

nations, and I do not like to speak of it, but there are bad

. men among your people who would take delight in stirring

'up the Indians to deeds of blood and strife. Pontiac, the
[head and front of the Indian tribes, a man of more ability
than many a leader on our side, is working in the dark for

,5 . one great object, the destruction of the advanced English post.

-‘ But he shall fall, if I have a brain or an arm.”

' i, . At ’this moment came a rap at the door, and Rose went
’ ' out, leaving the parlor door wide open. As the front door
"/ - swung buck, Gresham saw a man standing outside whom he
knew at once—Pontiac, the terrible chief of the Ottawas—
a man of herculean build, with a haughty air which might

, e have become a king. His long black hair, uncut, swept down

a / upon his shoulders, and his cold, clear-cut, determined face

* ' ' bespoke the man of nerve and power. He wore a gaudin

’ trimmed hunting-shirt of white buck-skin, covered with warn.

.. « pum ornaments, and from hi neck, suspended by a golden

r“ ‘ chain, hung a great medal presented to, him by the French
" ' king. A blanket, lined with red cloth, hung in graceful folds

 ‘ from his shoulders, and about his waist was wrapped the

i ‘ broad wnmpum belt denoting the great chief of the Confeder-‘

 I I ate tribes. He wore a feather head-dress, with drooping

 ; heron plumes, which waved in the summer breeze. His lower

‘  limhs were clothed in leggings, and upon his moccasins were

 \' worked the totem of his tribe. -

“ The Bright Star knows the face of a great chief,” said

 ' . the Indian. in a mellow, persuasive voice, speaking the French

 :language with ease and fluency. “Is he welcome to the I

-’~: " ',‘ lodge of her father ‘2” ' ‘

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\

chief. “ Enter.” '

 

 

 

    
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
    
    
  
 
 
   

 

“He is welcome,” said Rose, extending her hand to the - ‘

 

 

' ' Pontiac‘followedher witho stately Momma “Why 

  

 

 

“WIOUI.

evidently disconcerted at the presence of the Trailer, he made.
no outward sign of disappointment, but seated himself in the
place pointed out ,by the girl.

“Where is St. Auhin. the good trader, the man' who s

loved by the Indians 1’" demanded the chief.

“ lie is at the Wyantlot village."

“It is well ; Pontiac would have bet-n glad to take him by
the hand,‘ said the chief. “ when he returns, let [be Bright
Star shine upon his heart and make it warm. Say to him
that Pontiac, chief of the Otlnwas. and sachcm of the tribes,
would see him at his village. Sing in his cars Ilmt the lodge
of Pontiac, is always open to just men, and there is a'warm
place and food for him there." -

“ I will tell him."

Pontiac now turned to Gresham with a kindling eye, and
he now spoke in the Indian tongue.

“ While man," he said, “when you have come to, the
Ottawa lodges, have they treated you well?"

“ Yes," replied Gresham, with a puzzled look.

“ Then why have you disgraced a man who is loved among
the Ottawas Y"

“ Whom do you mean i“, _

“Let not Gresham speak with a double tongue,” replied
Pontiac, in a severe tone. “The Little Prophet has returned
to the village. to tell how he has been wronged by Gresham
and Ketadin."

“ I have done no more than you would have done," replied
Gresham. " Will Pontiac listen to my words i" p

“ The ears of the chief are open.”

“The Little Prophet came crawling like a snake to listen
to the words of myself and Ketadin. We caught him, but
no harm was done him by either of us.”

“ Did you not lay your hands upon him, the man whose

ofllce is sacred among the Indian tribes ?"

~

“01‘ course I did, and I would do the same thing if he-re- V

peated his spying. Look, chief of the Ottawas. Buyout
tribe were in council, and a spy crawled in to listen to your
words, what would you do 3'” ‘

_“ The Little One is a. prophet,"aaid Pontiac (loamy

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Votes e'rt’.” ‘ y
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. “We did not think of that, and beyond handling him o

’ .' little reufliiy, perhaps, no harm was done him. in the least."

Pontiac rose as if to depart without udjing another word,
and Rose accnmpnnied him to the door. Then he stopped
end spoke in a low tone.

“Send the Trailer away. In an hour I will return, and
tell you something becausie I love the good trader."

Rose made no answer, so surprised was she at what he said,

"and before she had recovered herself sufficiently to answer,
. the chief had opened the garden gate, and was walking
< swiftly toward the fortress. There was something very sus-

picious to Edward in this visit, and he cut his cull short,
promising to come back in the evening, if possible; then he

hurried down to the fort, where he found Ketsdin, anxiously _

awaiting him.

“ Have you seen the Little Prophet 2" he said quickly.

“ He is here, with Pontiac, and they have gone to the‘lodgo
of the major,” replied Ketsdin. .

“ Why are they here i” '

" They have come to sing in the ear of Gladwyn against
us, because we put our hands upon the Little Prophet.”

“I hope they may make something out of the major by
complaining at me,” said Edward. “ Come to my house,
where we can talk without being spied upon.” ’

Gresham had a. small house within the fort, and here he i

lived when in the settlement, with no other companion save a
French voyageur, whom he kept in the capacity of cook and
general fectotum. He was standing in the doorway 'when

' 'they came up, a shriveled but jovial-looking man of middle
» ag’e, with all the suavity and grace of his nation.

“ Mossu Edward, 1 s'all greet you met: plaisir.
s'all please to ordaire for ze dinner ?"

“Any thinz, Pierre; any thing. I am not particular, and
you know how to cook." '

“ Ccrtaiuement; I t‘ink I s’all set before une ver'vfine veni-

Vnt you

'- son s-iddle, but ze dam dog of 19. garrison ’ave carry it any I
I s’ull exterminate ze dog from as moo

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.-.1__.._~syw‘__s _.____s_ i A.

an mun Agnew. g

“ Zero e‘all be une small billet doux come for, Mason 
w” 3' ‘

“ A letter? Let me have it.“ - ‘

Pierre led the way into the house, and with many bows,
and flourishes presented a letter, with the name of Edward
Gresham upon the back. He tore it open hastily, and found.
it the exact counterpart of the one he had found upon the
Il't‘OW.

“ This grows interesting,” he muttered. “ Some one is
taking an unusual interest in my welfare, it would eem, and
it behooves me to find out who the person is. Who left this
letter, Pierre ‘r” "

“ Von small Indian boy; ver‘ small."

“ What tribe ‘3"

“ Mossu, I s’all not be able to tell you. He coom quickly,
drop ze letter. and go avay. I attend to my soup, and not
notice him mooch."

“ I wish you had looked at him more closely. If another
letter comes. be sure that you can describe the person."

“ He s’all tell you in ze letter."

“ Umph; not exactly. You can go, Pierre." -- ‘

The Frenchman bowed himself out with ,many genuflectlone

‘ and grimaces. Edward took out the arrow which had carried

the first letter.

“ What tribe is this from, Ketadin," he said. " You under-

' stand arrows better than I do."

'“ Ottawa I” replied the Delaware, without the slightest heel-
ution.

C II A P T E R I I I .
'ms: ou'rmw's woome.

NIGHT came down upon the sleeping fort, and no one was M

in the streets, save the sentries as they paeed their 

sounds, for Major GladWyn kept. good discipline among fit" 
troops and was always on the alert for treachery. Re “I ‘
-goudoeuse,forin allthe annalsot bards: myth-pat,

 

      

I

‘ mm mm.

    
   

 was ever situated in a more perilous "Position than the, -r

post at Detroit, literally surrounded by enemies as it was. At
midnight, when all were sleeping except ' the guards, two
figures crept silently along in the shadow, and npproarhed
the house of Edward Gresham, and disappeared in the small
area at the rear. Fifteen minutes after tllt re rose upon the
clear air of night one long, loud,‘ terrible scrram, the cry of a
strong man in agony; and frightened citizens sprung up and
ran to Gresham’s house. They found a terrible scene of con-
”fusion there, an Indian lying dead upon the floor, Edward
Gresham, half dressed, with a bare sword in his hand pacing
the room excitedly, and Ketatlin standing near the wall en-
deavoring to stench the blood which flowed from a deep
wound in his right arm. ‘
“ What is the matter here?” demanded the foremost of the
citizrns.
“ Come and see,” replied Gresham, leading the way
"“ Murder has been done.”
Murder! The frightened citizens took up the cry and
’ passed it from man to man, whispered it: with white lips, and
murmured it in hushed tones. Murder. foul murder! For
there, in the room which was usually occupied by Edward,
lying in a heap upon the bed, pierced through and through
by dreadful wounds, lay the mortal remains of poor Pierre
' Guilhert, dead, but yet warm. There were marks of bloody
hands upon the sheets and bed-clothing, and the drapery was
‘ torn and scattered, for the man had fought for his life. How
had this murder been done? A window in the rear of the
house had been forced open, and through that the assassins
had entered to their bloody work.
\ Edward had been awakened by the first cry of the
wounded man, as he lay upon the floor beside the fire. He
had not wished to sleep, as he had planned an adventure that
night, and had told Pierre to lie down upon his bed, to be
prepared to assist them when they were ready to go out.
. , But, being wearied by the long travel of the past, few days,
the fell asleep, and was only awakened by the death-cry of
. Lbfiuflbert. The two scouts ,had'lain down with their arms he-
V'. fidc them, and started up armed in time to see that there
1 mfteur men in the room with. Pierre, and to usail than.

  

:30

Vl"H‘I|-4NQ

I gle."

' toward the house.

mums smarts.

Ketadln, after a desperate struggle, had killed one of the as-
Iauins, and received a deep wound from his knife, another was
shot by Edward, while the remaining villains took flight.
thronglrthe open window, and managed to escape. ‘

“What is this ?" cried one of the citizens, picking‘iup
something which lay beside the bed. “ Look, if the villains
did not cut off one of the poor Iellow's fingers in the strug~

“ No, no i" cried Edward. “ This is a clue indeed.
at Pierre and you will see that his hands are not wounded.”

He seized the hideous trophy, and taking a small bottle
from the mantle, filled it with spirits from a flask. and put
the finger in it. There was a ring upon it, and this he took ‘
oil' and put Upon his own finger. It was a diamond of rare
beauty, with a circle of rubies surrounding the central stone.

Edward did not go out upon the expedition he had pur-
posed, but remained to see his faithful servitor laid in the
earth. The burial took place on the next day, while the car- _
casses of the slain Indians, one of whom was a man unknown
to‘ any one in the fort, were exposed upon a gibbet that. do)
and left there at night. Next morning, when they came to
look for the bodies, they were gone. Doubtless the friendt
of the slain Indians had come by night, and stoic: them, for
the marks of moccasined feet were plainly to be seen in the .
soft earth about the gibbet. '

Pontiac had'kept his word with Rose St. Aubln, and at the
apptnillled time she saw his stately form stalking up the walk
The face of the great chief took .on a
pleasant smile as he looked down upon the beautiful girl
holding her hand in his.

“ A great chief keeps his word,” he said. “ Pontiat
promised to come, and he is here. Has the good trader re
turned from the Wyandot village?” '

“ He has not.”

“ Then Pontiac must sing in the cars of the Star of Detroit

alone. Are her ears open ;0 hear his words ‘3”
“ I am always ready to listen to the words of the great
chief of the Ottawas,” replied Rose, who had taken her/fa.

'Wa policy of conciliation toward the Indians. ” Lat Pg:-

Look ,' /

 
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
   

\ .

    
   

 
  

m mamma-

' . A “ Can the Star of Detroit be secret when some! 
.‘  Will she promise not to sing my words in the ears of the
 {chiefs of the Yengees l" ’

' ,“I may tell it to my father i"

v “ Yes."

. ,— t “Then I promise not to tell it to Major Gladwyn or any of
V the white officers."

‘_ “ This is well done. Listen: when the Bright Star sees a
‘ ‘ dark cloud in the sky, and knows that a storm is about to

break over her head, what does she do i”

adopling the figurative language of the Indian. 1
“ Good. The Bright Star shines quickly. and her ears tak
in the words of a great chief. Such a cloud gathers above
Detroit, but it does not hang over the heads of the French,
who have been the good friends of the red-men. Let the
Bright Star keep in the shelter of the Wigwam for seven days,
.« and then she may come forth, and shine through the
, ,cloudtz”
“ What do you mean, chief i” .
 ’ “ It is not good that you should know more. Pontiac has
done wrong to tell so much, but he would save the daughter
of the good trader from danger."
, 7 >‘ “Does this cloud threaten my father 9"
9 ' “ No ; the good trader is the friend of the red-man.”
’ “ Does it thneaten Edward Gresham?”
= l h . “ The Trailer has a long tongue, and has made himself
‘ enemies. Let him hide himself for seven days, and come no
more to Detroit.”
7 - 1- , “ Chief, was it you who sent the arrow to warn Gresham
,/ I to goaway ‘1"
I . . . “ I sent no arrow to him,” replied Pontiac. “ An Ottawa
’> .WOuld only send the war—arrow to him, and send it [to his
4-: .\ heart. Let him flee away from the vengeance of the great
' tribe.” 1 '
. ‘. ° _ “ May I tell him this '2” .
3: ' ’ . g “ You may warn him, but do not tell him thatthe warning
' » _ 'm from Pontiac, chief of the Ottawas. Remember that
(:- Lyon have given your word, and tell- no one save the 
p; " ‘-\mdor,’your father," _ ~ I . ‘ . , a

\

“ She flies to the safety of her dwelling." answered Rose, \

  
   
 
   
   
 
    
   
  
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
       
     
     
     

  

WSW“

 
  
    
  
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
  
   
  
 
    
  
 
     

h t'l‘he chief turned and walked away by the river-side, to- -
ward the Ottawa village Rose remained alone, waiting for
the return of her father, or the coming of Gresham. hut ,
neither came. She was deeply moved by the warning of the
, . thief| for she knew that he would not have come to her if the
” ‘ danger had not been imminent. About nine o‘clock a rap at
the door startled her, and she rose and hurried to the door,
‘thinking that Gresham had come; but she was surprised 'to V
see a stranger standing upon the step, whose brows were I, _
shaded by a heavy hat concealing the upper part of his ‘  -
face. ‘
“Excuse me, mademoiselle," he said, speaking excellent .
French, "but may I ask if this is the house of Gilbert 8t.
Aubin, the Indian trader l’"
“ it is.” ‘ ~
“Is he expected to return soon P" x ‘
“ I expect him every moment.” ,
“Then, with your permission, I will enter and wait for
him." ‘
“ You are welcome, sir. Step in at once, and I hope my.
father may return soon." i ‘ 1,
The man entered, and she closed the front door, and pre '
ceded him into the little parlor, where the stranger removed
his hat, and turned his face toward her, and she started back
'with a cry of surprise. '
"' You here! How dare yen ?”
i “ I could not resist the temptation, ma We,” replied the
i other, gayly, but with a lurking malice in his eyes. “ I was
informed that your father was not at home, and took the op.
portunity to pay my respects.”
3' -" What if I were to go to Major Gladwyn and tell him that
 you'are here ? You know that you are outlawed, and that n
L r word from me would seal your doom."
“ Yet you will not speak that word. ma share Rose,".h2 an-
r severed. ‘ t,
“ Why' should I not i“
n "‘ You have not the heart to do it, in the first place. 'Re-
liteinber that I have come out of love of you, and nothing
I sine. I have loved you long and tenderly, and you ha'veeaet
 no; 08 for a stranger. -' I saw you today, 

l \

-_ w“ __... __._. it ,

 
       
   
   
   
     

 
   
  
   
 
 
 
 
    
  
   
   
 
  
 
 
 
    
  
    
 
   
    
   
       
   

t/'

u

' :8 any meme.

rder steps. with his hand elasping yours, and his lips pressed
~ to yours. 0b, in that moment I could have killed him when i i

he stood. but I held my hand.” » i I
l " ' “ You dare not. meet him face to face.” .  1
~ ., “Dare not! Even now I hold his life in myhnnd, and

the lifting of a finger could save him, and unless you promise 1
to give him up, and turn to me, who have the best right to 1
your love, he is no better than a dead man.” I 
“ You would not murder him i” ‘ l
. , " I do not say that, but that he is in imminent danger. from 
7‘" - I which you only can save him. Rose, this man is not of your
 nation, but of the cold blood of the colonies of England. He
can not love you as I do. He does not know what love
means, comparing his tame affection with the fiery passion of
the children of the South. I am ready to do any thing, to
I / dare any thing, for your sake, and will even spare his life at: 1
' , your petition."
 I “ False 1 You do not love me. as you say, or you would
not try my heart as you try it now. And when you truduoe‘ ,3
/ Edward Gresham, and say that he does not love me, you know
/‘ that you speak falsely.”
V “It ofiends me to the soul that a (ind-hopping rascal, a
nameless hunter, should dare to rival one with the best blood
of France in his veins. You loved me once.” . t
5 “ I was a foolish girl, and was dazzled by the glitter o! ‘
tinsel and a prospective title. But, that time is past, and good i
or had blood is as nothing to me." - 3 ~

“ Nothing stands between me and that title-save a paralytic 1
old man, who may die any day. Think what you would gain
then as my wife, for there is nothing I might not claim if I
gained the title to which I am heir. A place in the French
V court, a rich estate in the provinces, wealth beyond computa-
v tion, and all laid at your feet.” -‘
 .‘ “ You can not tempt me. Go your way, and never speak
: ‘ V agpin of this, for it is hopeless."
,. ’7 “ You scorn my love, then ‘2"
’ ‘ “Not that; I can not be false to the love I bear to Ed-~
ward Gresham.” . ' > .
'i  . t ‘f You gave the some love to me once, before this  _
5,5 I canteens"  g r , », v H

\

 
 

awmure.‘

“It is true, as you say. But when you committed the

2 crime for which you were outlawed, you had no longer any

claim upon me. Such villainy would have dissolved any
tie.”
“ A man insulted me, and I stabbed him to the heart.”

“ Again a falsehood. You insulted the wife of an honest

man, and the husband struck you in the face with his open

‘ hand. For which act you wnylaid him with your bravoes by

 

3 “Yes. Hear me—”

night, in the deep forest, and killed him, basely, treacherously.
"For that net you were outlawed, and for that act I tore your
image out of my heart. never to replace it."

" This is your reading of my act, is it '1’” he hissed. “I
tell you it was a. false tongue which says that I insulted the
wife of that base-born hound, and he deserved his fate.”

“And that poor woman, whose husband you so treacher-
ously slew, now roams the forest, weaving Chaplets of wilds
flowers, seeking for the murdered husband she loved so well.
Oh! it would touch a heart of stone to meet her, and hear
her plead so plaintiver that some one will tell her where.he
18"”

“ Is she mad 1'" murmured the outlaw, in a hushed voice.
“It can not be."

“ She is mad, vile man, and your winked act has made her
so. Beware of her, for when we speak of you her eyes be-
gin to gleam, and she takes out the dagger she always keeps,

’ the blade with which he was slain, and looks upon the steel,
\ and murmurs something below her breath. Perhaps it is a

vow of vengeance; who can tell l’"

“ Silence; how dare you speak of that to me? These
walls have ears, and a breath of my name would bring these
low-born hounds upon me. eager for my blood. Death of my
life! It has come to a pretty pass when a man can not kill
such a creature as that, without all this ado about it.”

“ You have a wicked heart, man, whose name I will not

speak—a cruel. cruel heart. Leave me, for I can not .hreathe
the air you pollute, and so surely as I live, if you dare to
come to Detroit again, I will give you up to justice.” .

“ You will ‘3" t

“Donut. sweet, for you know not what ya dry

. '/

  

hm,

 
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
       

       
   
   
   
  
   
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
   
  
 
     

the crowning crime of all." .

‘ revenge."

’ man calling the name of Rose.
y ‘ “ I wilinot aid you.”

SNMva-u-Iwuid 8.60%" , ‘ _ 5 ~,

Q ' nan meme. ’ ,1

not save your lover if I am destroyed, for there are those un- ?
Ber my orders who would only strike the harder if I were ta- ‘ \
ken. You must reconsider your decision, for your lover's life :
hangs upon it, and not only his, but the lives of many 5
others.” a
. “_What do you mean i’" ,
' “ The fate of Detroit trembles in the balance. A spark
threatens it which a single breath of mine can blow into a,
flame. Outlaw though I am, yet I am not so powerless
as you think.” i
“ Twice in one day I have been warned. Have you .5
leagued with Pontiac to destroy this settlement?”
“ Pontiac? Who said any thing of Pontiac, or any other
Indian 1‘”
“No matter; are you base enough to join with savages
against white men? I thought you vile, but this would b

I“...an h

“ You are too sharp, ma belle,” said the stranger, sullenly.
“ We will say no more about that, if you please, but re-
turn to the other subject. I tell you that I have snot-n an
oath that you shall be my wife, and by all the holy saints, I f
will keeji my oath. When your base lover’s body is brought
to you, (lead, then in that hour remember me. and my

“ Wretch l" it
“Another thing: keep this interview a secret from all,
even from your father. If it becomes known, it can only
hasten the denouement. On every side you are watched, 3
night and day. Every movement on your part, and on

/ that of the Trailer, is reported to me each day, and when I .

l
i
choose ,to take my revenge, it is mine. Hal who is that?" 
“ My father has returned. Nowl villain, you are in my *
power." , .
“ Not yet ; hide me, or show me the way out of the house 1 .
at the back.” 7 S
A loud rapping at the door was heard, and the voice of a’ l

i “ Verygmd ; then open the door, and admit him, and ‘I

  

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ife !
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I

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“ Rose, Rose i" cried the voice at the door. “ Walton».
my girL It is 1, your father. Open the door quick, for I
am weary",

~“ You will not keep your word,” murmured Rose.
surely do not mean it." ‘

The only rt-ply made. by the desperate outlaw was to
remove a pistol from the h :tck belt which encircled his waist.
shake up the powder in the pan, and lay the barrel of the
weapon in the hollow of his hand. I

“ I will show you the way out," said Rose, quickly.
“ This way.”

The mam followed her without a word as she ran swiftly
down the hull, opened a door atthe hack, and passed quickly
through the kitchen, when she pointed to the back door, and
stopped.

“ You promise not to betray me i’" he said, pausing with
Ais hm‘d upon the lock. .

“ Yes, yes ; go.”

“ Not even to mention my name ?"

“ Not even that, if you will go at once, before my father
gets impatient.” ,
“ Not to this Eelward Gresham, most of all i’"

“ No, I give my word—"

“ Enough; you will keep your word,I am sure.
good-by for the present. but we meet again."

He swung open the door of the kitchen, and was about to
pass out, when a hasty step was heard outside, and Gabriel
St. Aubin and the outlaw, without warning, stood face-to-
facet

“ You

And now

CHAPTER IV.
WILD MADGE.

EDWARD Gassm and Ketadiu, when the body of poor
Pierre Guilbsrt was laid in the earth, took their departnro

from the fort, but. not together. ”‘ The Indian went first, end ,« , 1 "

down the river, and half an hour athidwud'

t

 

 
 

7U ' mm ammo.
went out, armed for the hunt, and proceeded up the stream. ,lI‘
Taking such widely divergent paths. it would not seem that7

they were likely to meet, but an hour later they Were seated i I
together upon a grassy knoll, three or four miles to the south-  o
wes‘. of the Ottawa village. 3

“ Do you think any one noticed your departure, chief 1’"

said the Trailer.

“Don’t know. Go out a good deal; maybe not think.”

“ Did you see any thing of the Little Prophet ?" 1 k

“ No; gone to Ottawa with Pontiac, and no come back.” ,

“I’ll lace that little rascal’s hide with a hickory, the first 3

time I meet him. I believe the little thief set those men on 1
us last night, who killed poor Pierre.”

“,Not after Frenchmen ; after you." ‘

“ I shouldn’t wonder. It was the merest chance in the 

world that I did not sleep there myself.”

“ That was an Ottawa who fell by my hatchet, but I do
not know him. Waghl why did he raise his hand against f
‘ Ketadin ?" '

“ You taught him better than that, old boy. How is your

wound ?”

“ It is nothing. A pin digs deeper than an Ottawa hatchet,

~ and he was a fool, and died the death of a fool."

“ Hark! what is that t” t

The Indian inclined his ear to listen. They heard a clear, 5,
sweet, mournful voice, full of wonderful pathds, singing the ’
words of a ad song, evidently an impromptu. It, told a
touching story of woman's love and faith, of amurdered hus-
band, and an unhappy quest for the loved and lost.

“Wild Madge," whispered Edward. “Poor girl! what
can she be doing here ‘2”

A footstep stirred the forest leaves, and. directly after, a
strange being appeared. She was still young, and had been
beautiful, but her beauty was faded. and her tattered garb,
'disheveled hair, and wandering eye told that the poor brain .
hud given way beneath her sorrows. Her clothing was torn ' ,
lry bush and bramble, and tangled with burrs, and her white I]

‘ feet showed through her worn moccasins. A gay scarf was
4 wound about her tangled looks like a turban, under which it,
' ‘1 hu~eyes gleamed brightly, but with a restless, changing light. .

/ ,

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am.
hat

tail 5
1th» ?

f?”

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“HAVE YOU SEE]! erLm?’{

i In One hand she held a stout staff, with Which to assist he!
‘ footsteps over the perilous way, and in the belt at her waist
? hung a leathern sheath, which held. a dagger with a handle
‘1 of tarnished silver. She did not seem to fear the two men,
5 but set up a silvery laugh as she came toward them.

“' Gresham, upon my lifel I am so glad to meet you, Ed-
' ward. Have you seen my Willie anywhere P”

“No,” replied Edward, sorrowfully, but with the evident
- intention of soothing her.

i

‘ ; yesterday ?—and I have been looking for him. Willie is a

,‘ good hunter. Sure nothing has harmed him.”

J “No, no, my poor girl," said Edward, softly. “Willie is
 safe where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary
‘ are at rest."

“ The wicked? Ah!" The poor pale hand stole to the

. handle of the dagger, drew it out and looked intently upon '

i the blade, and the dark spots which were plainly to be seen

r about the hilt.
something to herself, though what it was they could not make
out.

“ Sit down and rest, Madge,“ said Edward, kindly.
must be very tired."

“Tired?” she said, wildly. “What right have I to be

‘ tired until I have found Willie? Every thing mocks me; I
am very tired, very, very tired, and so hungry.”

He made her sit down upon the mossy knoll and gave her
the cold meat he had brought for himself, and Ketudin added
some parched corn from the pouch at his side, and brought
a flask of pure, clear water from the stream close at hand,’
which she drank eagerly. and he went to fill it again. She
ale ravenously, like one who had long hungered, and Ed-

“ You

ward sat by her and helped her to food until she was aatis- _
fl .

“ That is good," she said. “ I am strong again, and can
scent and look for Willie. He will not be- long in coming
I  think ?” -

{1111996 not,” said Edward with a great'effort at 'elieerifuii’
Knees, though he knew that her murdered husband had
- V under the green grass by the river-side for two long your ’

 

“Is he hunting ‘3" y t
.' “ I don‘t know," she said. “ I lost him yesterday—was it i

Her lips moved, and she seemed to mutter ‘

 
 
 
   
  
  
   
  
  
  
 
   
  
    
 
  
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    

    
 

RED LIGHTNING.

' , --“ very, very happy. We were poor, but this new land
easily gave us all we needed, and I did not pine for the coun-
, ,4 _ try I had left, though sometimes when I fell asleep I would
7:, dream of the hawthorn hedges in old Kent, 'where he first
f 3 ' ' knew and loved nie. My poor Willie! Oh, who will find
i. 5 him and bring him back to me ‘P”
 Q “ A curse upon Gaston Delisle,” muttered Edward. “ Oh,
': that I had him on this green sward, face to face,and I would

many crimes, into the presence of outraged heaven.”

“ Gaston Delisle l" whispered Madge, drawing out the dag-
ger again and looking on the blade. “ Why does that name
, 3 haunt me? Why, when I hear it, does my poor brain con-
7‘ ‘ I ceive such bloody thoughts, and wish to see him lying at
" my feet, dead, dead, dead? My brain reels; I grow faint.
Ah 1” '

 , of Edward Gresham which were outstretched to receive her.
He laid her gently down, and taking his flask, wet her lips
and nostrils with spirits, while the chief, after bringing rm-
other flask of water, stood looking down upon them with a
moody brow. I

“ Why is she no!" he said, touching his forehead. “ The
hand of the Manitou' has been laid heavily upon her. Can
you tell me why .9"

7‘ " i “ ,Yes.’ This poor girl, two years ago, was a happy bride,
“one of the fairest flowers that bloomed beside the Detroit.

, I . Her husband loved her tenderly, and she Was very happy, but

1 ,v I ‘ in an evil hour she met Gaston Delisle, a Frenchman, who

" I boasted his good blood, and who looked disdainfully upon
common men.
,and she struck him in the face with her open hand. He re-
newed the insult at another time, and she called her husband,

., . ’ ’_ Will Sinclair was a strong man and a brave one, and Delisle
_  / was‘a child in his hands. This Delisle was the nominath
,1 fifths French, colony after Cardillac left it, and he h‘ed about

,:». ...

‘  & Stadium; the goods, and triers ‘we feund'h’is

iWe were very happy in our little home,” she said, softly,"

. She uttered a gasping sob, and sunk senseless into the arms I

This hound approachedher with an insul 3

who came to her aid, and beat the dastartl almost to death; '

er   su’m’be": or desperodoes ‘or all classes." Thesev'waylaid , v

     
   
   
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
   

tonal—ISQH'H

give his body to the crows,‘ and send his soul, black with 

4".“V A

 

  
 

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Id
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* that hour, with disdain.

glad that his mother might have covered his face, not thinking it
her son, but she, who lies here, knew him in a moment. The

a dagger with which he received his death-Wound was beside
" him, and on the silver hilt, engraved, was the name of Gaston
; Delisle, who had escaped.
~ and even now there is a price set upon his head. ‘He was

He was outlawed for the crime,

then be'rothed to Rose St. Aubin, but she east him oti' from

,1

"Did you ever see him i" «2
“Once only, and then I had only a fleeting glimpse. I »

' don’t think I should know him again.” '

“ Look,” said Ketadiu, holding out his brawny arm. “ Is

’ Ketadin a strong man 1’”

4‘ Yes."

“ Is he true to his friends i’"

“ He is."

“ Then listen to his words. One day he will meet this
man with a dog‘s heart, and tear him limb from limb. It is
spoken; a Delaware can not lie."

Even while he spoke, the young man had» been working to
bring poor Madge back to consciousness, but her swoon-was
like death. , '

“ You will keep your word, my brave friend,and I pray God
that the time may come soon. From the moment the poor
girl saw the mangled form of her husband, whom she had fol-
lowed from across the great salt water to this home in' the
wildemess, her poor brain gave way, and she was mad.”

“ But, why does she walk the woods 1“ Was there no one
to give her a place in the Wigwam, and fond to eat i" I
i “ Many would have done so, but the poor child does not
think her husband is dead, and seeks for hint in the forest.
To her it seems that he went away but yesterday, and she re-

. members the murder only when the name of the villain is

spoken.”

’ The nostrils of the Indian dilated, and he clutched the
handle of his hatchet so fiercely that the blood almost started
from beneath his finger-nails. At this moment the fainting
woman drew a long breath ; the color came heel; to her white
_',and Edwardyraieed her to a sitting position and Inp-

7:  ‘

  

     
    
 
   
  
 
  
  
 
   
    
 
   
   
   
   
     

_  V ;
-I mueamme. 

I ‘ “ Are you better P” he said, kindly. 5- u
“Yes, I am better. Where have I been; what has been “’1
done ?" - r r m
~ , “ You fainted, Madge, because you have walked so far, andf M
L ‘ are weary. Had you not better go to Detroit, and wait there:
7 ' until Willie comes back ?” i'w
“ Do you think it best ?” ’  ta
J ‘ , “ Yes; because when he comes back he will not find you‘

if you are away."
“ I did not think of that,” she said, springing up quickly. '
“ Perhaps he has come home while I have been looking for:
him, and I must hasten backff ' g
“ Are you afraid to go back alone, Madge? If ' you are,E
one of us will go with you until you Ean see Detroit." 3\ d
It “ Afraid? What is there to fear in the woods? When I I
’j' am here, I am happier than at any other time. The birds 1 t‘
‘ sing to me ; the running brooks make music; little spirits , ,
come out of the rocks and trees and talk to me. I saw three ‘
spirits yesterday, who were very kind, and said pleasant things 
to me, and made my sore hem-t glad." i,
“ God surely protects the innocent and unsuspecting, Dela- }
ware,” said Edward. 
" The Muniton always watches over these upon whom his I
 finger has been laid,” replied the warrior. “ Sister! When 
 _ you are alone in the woods, can you talk with the spirits of 
the rocks and trees 1‘” i '
I “ Yes, and they are beautiful; they are divine. When I 
, lie down at night beneath the trees, they sing above me all 
\thelong night through, and give me rest." ;j \
Ketadin inclined his head slowly. He had been taught to ‘
. believe that unfortunates like Madge were especially under the  -
care of the Manitou, and that they were given the power of l
, conversing with the spirits, which he believed inhabited the "
earth, and the various forms of vegetable life. It required but
little faith upon his part to believe that Madge convened,
I freely with these spirits, and if his faith was simple, it was not,
the less firm. ’ ‘
' ,3 I V' y - um. nntntored mind
 . a“: _ , SawGodineloudsox-heudhimtnthowlnv‘ g~
fl”: \" Methanol better llghtsthan this poor as.an ,

l , / .

is
tl

“

e
t
i
l
1
l

1

        
 

      
   
 
  
   
   
  
 
 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
    

i.
v L and from him a lesson in faith. His noble heartehsd been . » I
m touched by the story of Madge Sinclair's wrongs and snfl’er- \ .

V , lugs, and he was fired by the strong desire to avenge them and
and; bring peace to her troubled breast. ~j
“ I will go back with my sister and show her the shortest .
-way,” he said. “ My brother will wait for me by the three
; tall pines." _ . ,
' -' Agreed," said Edward. “ Make what haste you can after ’ '

iere 

you! ,
you have shown her the way to Detroit." 7'
My. ‘ The Indian nodded, and, beckoning to Madge to follow, be
for led the way through the forest, while Edward looked after
5 them with a kindling eye. ' 3 /
"evil ' “And that man is what they call a savage l” he said.

: “ How many oi’ my race would turn aside from a pressing ,
n I! duty to do an act of kindness to a friendless woman, no out ‘
ms) ter'what her Wrongs? All honor to such savages l"

educzttion and a taste for literature, and the book he Win read-

ms He turned and plunged into the woods to the right. Trav- \ v \‘
4 ’eling as the crow flies, turning neither to the right hand nor ‘ »
ms 5 the left, he came out upon the river-bank within a hundred
E feet of the spot for which he had aimed. so accurate was his
Ia. i knowledge of woodcrnft, espt-cially in the section in which he
[ ‘found himself. Close to the river side, three towering pines ’
hill grew together, so close that their roots interlaced. He sat . v
en! down upon one of the huge roots as it protruded from the I ‘
of ' earth, and taking a book from his pouch began to read. Ed. ' I .
i . ward Gresham, scout and hunter though he was, had a good '
l
‘1} i ing was an old work on astronomy lent him by one of the. '
i, \ officers in the garrison. ._
‘0 ' It was a strange sight to see this man, in the depths of the  _
m l American forest, solacing himself by a study of the wonders

 
 

‘ 'ot'astronomy. Yet he read like one who enjoyed it.I but with t
' ears open to detect the slightest change in the sounds of :90
forest about him. ' ‘ ‘
All at once the b0ok drople into his pouch, and, taming
suddenly, he plunged in between the roots of the th"2e Piflel
31nd disappeared. It was not done a moment to» SOOH, for
‘ " steps were heard, and two men entered the little glade beside
.2 the river.) The first was the great chief Pontiac. moving on \ ‘1
‘  whiohrleomcd part or his nature,qu . 5 V; .'

v ~,..ui

 
       
      

    
    

 
   

   
 

Q ‘ ' muemnto. 
l

 a white man, dressed in cloth of samba;  ;
‘ Moved by. gold buttons and lace. About his waist was strap.- ' or
ped a handsome belt, with a diamond in the buckle, and an { I
elsborately~ornamented sword-hilt showed itself as he walked. 1’
He curried pistols of exquisite workmanship, and held in his 1 yr
hand a title of the most approved make, the stock inlaid with 
silver, engraved richly and showing the arms of a noble French Lei
house. His right arm was in a sling, and it was evident from i,
his motions and the care with which he handled the limb,  s]
that he had been lately wounded. He wore a black felt hat ‘ at
with a drooping feather, while a craps mask of black was :01
closely drawn over the upper part of his face, completely con- i
coating it from view. He was evidently in pain, for hislipo . Ii
could be seen working nervously below his mask. ' ix
‘.‘ My brother is weary and in pain," said the chief. “Let .
him be seated.” The white man dropped upon umossy knoll, 'I
and eveu,the slight motion drew a snarl of pain from him. ah
“ My brother failed last night," the chief said. ‘
“ Failed, yes, and all through the accursed luck which 101-  tl
lows ome men through life, no matter where they go." , A
“ Let us say no more of that. The plans are well laid, and 3 91
in a few suns not an Englishman will live in the Indian g’
country. They laugh at Pontiac, and look at him as a poor '
Indian, but he has it here in his head, and will study out some
plan for vengeance." ' .
“It shall he so. These accursed villagers, who drove me ‘
out from among them, shall feel the weight of my hand.
, Chief, I am in burning torments until I can be avenged."
‘ “ Vengeance shall come," said the chief, solemnly. “It is
the right of anilndian, and he will have it. A night of bland-
and death shall settle over the land, and when the cloud lifts, f,
the-English shall he no more.” ' u
V “ Have you laid yulll‘ plans well for the taking of the other u
, pm's as well as Detroit ?" ' y
, “ ‘\ chief targets nothing. The warriors are at work, and - 5
our [thus can not fail.”  ,_ . 1,
“ Relmiuher one thing, however. This man Greahantfiisvh
.mine, to kn as I choose.” ,  ~
_ “My bum: mimm hint, mu m Little  7.
" “whim. “1‘6 would Mw2thfln»M.m‘-m.b¥rm ‘ ’

 

 

  

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>1- 3 the forest,th looking over his shoulder, full of deadly fear.
,‘A moment after, laughing heartily, Edward Gresham came
1d  but from his hiding-place beneath the roots.
to y
0! '
1e __'..___
he ‘
«l c H A P T E R v .
i. was: BLACK LEAGUE. _
’d' W: left Gabriel St. Anbin and the disguiSed visitor face to
3v_ face, and for a moment the two stood regarding each other
intently, each making no movement, but watching an oppor-
9" -tunity. St. Aubin wasfla man of middle age, etontly built,
V With a handsome open face, full of frankness and benevolence.
ld 'E’e looked keenly at the visitor, but the man had drawn his
- but far down over his brows, and seemed bent upon keeping
“"111: face hidden. , ~ « .
_ Well, the said St. aubin ht length. “Mari ask to
0' «maker hide idr‘the horror-'8! inhumane when I
:

i

I ,
o ;
ceived an injury from Edward Gresham, he had done me a]

t! The Little Prophet asks too much. Long beiore he re

 Wrong which nothing could atone for.”

“Liar l” cried a hollow voice. “ Tremble, for the hour of
, your doom is near at hand.”

The masked man bounded to his feet, and even the impas-
isiblc Indian faced hastily about, with a hand upon the hatchet.

r', “Pontiac, beware,” cried the same hollow voice. “The

: spirit of the Pine speaks to you, and tells you to look to your- >

f self. Not to the Yengees, but to the Indian, sorrow shall
' come.”

The two conspirators looked at one another with awestruck
. and pallid faces, while that solemn voice pealed out its warn.
ing.’

“ Murderer, the spirit of your murdered victims are not laid.
Their blood cries out from the earth for vengeance, and the
; hour of your doom is nigh. Beware I"

With one accord they turned and dashed headlong through _

 

 



   
    
  
  
   
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
   
  
    
  
   
  
  
 
  
  

 
 
 

  

/

   
    
  
    
 
    
  
    
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

r, ’ ' “Another time, my dear, sir,” replied the stranger, in a
disguised voice. “ At present I must leave you, as I have ,

,f ' other business to attend to." . t1
‘ “ Not yet, sir. I must- know before you go why you ' are .
 here. You certainly did not come without an olfir-nt." V‘
 . ‘1 \ “ Assuredly not, sir. I came to see you, but, 4:. you were - V “
 ‘ detained beyond my hour, I must bid you good-night.”
" “ Who are you ?” persisted the trader. “ Rose, what does 1

3 this mean? After the faith 1 have put in you, surely you ‘1
:_ will not turn traitress to me. Tell me who this man is, and
["71 ‘ what he seeks here." 1-9

“ Do not attempt. to stop him, for my sake," pleaded Rene.
"I . “ You must not; you shall not i" -
‘ I The stranger stood with folded arms, ready to take advnn- i‘
, tage of any opening for escape. But, as St. Aubin blocked up
the door completely, escape that way was impossible without ‘ «

‘a struggle. The visitor was not a stranger ,to the power of

 muscle of the trader, and hesitated. ' a It
“ Let him go free, father,” pleaded Rose. “ He‘ is 8 del-

perate man, and may do you some harm." on
" He has not harmed you, Rose, nor dared to otfer you an In
insult i” cried her father. ' ‘by
i " No, no; he was just going when you rapped at the door. he
f u so stand aside and let him pass.” ,/ 1'0
\f “ Ay, Gabriel, stout old boy. let me go safely away. I pro. \ in
,. misc that you shall see me again soon," sneerexl the visitor. .ch

, r “ Rose, this is suspicious. Who and what is this man 1’” ,
i 4“ ' “ I dare not speak his name, but for my sake let him go i)"

 free.” ' - ~
1 . ‘ Gabriel glared at her for a moment without reply. and then Wt

rushed resolutely forward and seized the intruder in his strong ‘ ,011
arms—so quickly, indeed, that he had not time to draw a .3 ‘
weapon, and required all his address to keep his feet. It was t"
I . a desperate struggle, hand to hand and foot to foot. They . ‘1 his
 ’ / rolled to the floor together, and in the struggle the hat I fell g
’ from the head of the stranger, and his face was exposed and
, .St. Auhlu uttered a cry of surprise. ' . ~
“You, you,‘murdererl Have I trapped you at last 9'
, ‘3“.Hold your hand, Gabriel St. Aubin. You; have 
’ my. to show my (“mud for. that I will have your lite.” ~

 

 
       
     
   

. x'r'

name M'm

“Father i" cried Rose. " ,

“ Silence, girl.
I! is wretch into the house of an honest man ? He, would you 1‘”

The younger man was making a desperate effort to draw a
weapon, but St. Aubin anticipated the efi‘ort. and held his
v ‘rists firmly, rising with his knee upon his breast. ‘

“ You have me,” said the vanquished man, sullenly. “ But,
i tell you that it would have been better for you to die. than"
t s so degrade me"

“ Haw: your own way, villain.
lows “

“ Never! I would kill myself with my own hand."

“ You shall have the opportunity. Bring a rope, Rae;
i can take care of this scoundrel.”

“ Remember what I told you, Rose,” kissed the prisoner.
‘ If I am taken, his doom is sealed."

“Bring the rope I” thundered St. Aubin.
yonder closet." v t

Rose did not move. She believed what had been told her,
and that the villain had it in his power to destroy her lover,
-,I.nd she dared not aid her father. Instead, made desperate

You shall die by the gal-

“ It hangs in

"by the peril. in which two she loved were placed, she threw

herself upon her knees before her father and begged him to
release the prisoner. "You know not what you are doing,
father. 'Oh, my hmrt. my heart will break. Release him;
let him est-ape! l lit-g it on my knees."

then I Will sulfur him to rlsu'.”
Rose stooped and snatched the pistols from the belt he
wore beneath his cloak, and gave them to her father, who at

‘ fonce sprung: to his feet.

‘ “ Rise!" he said, “and let me understand this thing."

 

The prisoner nrose slowly, his eyes blazing with angrr, and

“ his hands closed so tightly that the blood started from be
5 Death his finger-nails.

“Look you, sir," he said; “ this will neither be forgotten
Ior forgiven."
““Put a bridle on your tongue, seoundrel that you m, for

are noter yet, by any menu. Once more, why

J,

"on come here 2"

Do you I tell me that you me  V v. ’

“ Lt'L him give up his weapons lhen," said St. Aubin, “and ,1

_’r

I

 

 
 
  

     
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 

 

L.
, .
‘1

   
 

., the and, and closed as quickly behind hint. ' All me turn.  

in name.

i ' t 1‘“! «me to see Rose, who win; very glad to see me."

‘“ False l- Father, have I ever told you an untruth t”
“‘ Never.”

! “ Then listen to me. There does not remain in my heart
a single spark of tenderness for that base man. He came
here un'expectedly, and gained admission by professing to
wish to see you, keeping his face covered. He gained noth-

a, ing by his coming, and you have only ’to look at his face to
five certain that I am telling you the truth.”

‘ “ Your word is sufficient, my child, and you need say no
more. But. why am I not to give him up to justice? Stand
where you are or I will shoot you down like a dog,’you ras-
cal.”

The last exclamation was drawn out by a movement of the
prisoner in the direction of the door. '
“You must let him go, father. When he has escaped, I
twill teli you why." '
“Do, if you dare," hissed the man, turning his fiery eyes
upon the flushed face of the speaker.
“ Deny me that, and I will not oppose my father longer.”
“ Since you insist upon it, let it be as you say. but not un-
til I am gone. Have I liberty to depart, Gabriel St. Aubin ?”
“ Yes, with this proviso. If you dare to show your face
here again, nothing shall save you.”
“ I fear you not.” replied the man, sullenly.
\ I back my weapons."
“ You have your sword, and that is enough {or you.
your ways and remember my warning."
“ I might give a warning too, my worthy friend, but I
shall not waste my breath. Only bear this in mind, that I
’ never yet was insulted but I wiped out the wrong in the best
blood of the insulter. I bid you good-night." ,
And waving his hand with a look of hatred imprinted up—
on his face, the outlaw turned upon his heel and left them.
Upon reaching the street, he paused for a moment..‘m evi- 
dent uncertainty, and then hurried away toward the fort. 'A
whispered word took him past the guards, and he stood within - p ,
tbltockaded inclosure, and rapped in a peculiar manner at .
I39" May, whiehswung back immediately ln-answer‘to '

“' Give me

Go]

 

 

 
 
 

 
     
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
   
     
  

.7

 

l” rounding maSOnry, swung slowly upon its hinges, and the
._outlaw passed a black~robed figure holdin’ga sword in his

fight lnnd. Beyond thedoor we; a platform-mortar

marmoer

Ines- in the room by which he entered, but he proceeded
boldly, like one who knew the way. and opened a door at the
end of the room, showing a stairway leading downward, and
dimly lighted. No other being had yet showed himself; the
visitor passed down the stairs, and found himself in a thick-
walled cellar, without windows. and lighted only by a single
taper which burned in a socket in the wall. At the bottom
of the stairs was a sort of cupboard, which he opened, and
took therefrom a black cloak, with the flaw- (19 It's of France
worked in white thread upon the breast; a pair of black
gloves; a skull-cap of the same somber hue, provided with a
thick visor, with openings only for the mouth. nostrils and
eyes, and which, when put. on, was a complete disguise.

He clothed himself as quickly as possible in this parapher-

’ nalia, and advanced to what appeared to be a solid wall, and

taking up u. heavy stone which lay there, struck twice upon ,

‘the wall with all his force. He had hardly done so, when,
as it by magic, a blaze of light streamed from the wall di-
rectly into his face, and a voice cried, in French :
“ Who knocks t" I
“,A brother of the Circle of Vengeance,” replied the out-
. law, in the same language. 4
“ What does he seek here ?"
“ Knowledge and vengeance.”

,- “ These portals are never closed to faithful brothers, who
come here with those words upon their lips. Can you sign
the sign ‘t”

“ I can." .
u  iL" 

_ The hands of the outlaw were raised, and a rapid \sign 
_ given.

“ The sign is true. Can you name the name ?”
' “ When the ear of a brother is bent to receive it.”

The sentinel bowed his head, and a Word was whispered ‘

in his car. 'He at once stood erect. and said:
' “ You urclworthy, faithful and true. Pass on.” '
A heavy door. accurawa painted so as to resemble the sur-

   

 
  

m LIGHTNING.

jie'u wide. and then a flight of steps, eight in number, and It
the bottom another door, from which issued two horrible fig-
ures, in blmdqed robes, one holding a knife, and the other a

; .spear. red with gore ’

\V/

“ Whom have re now ‘2” cried the foremost. “ What out.-

-sidc man dPLcS enter the Circle of Vengeance without the

password ?"

“ If I am an intruder,” replied the outlaw, “let the lmi‘e
sever my head from my body, the spear pierce my false heart,
and fire consume my frame; I um ready for the test.”

“ Give us the true word."

“ it is written on my breast.”

“ Show it." '

The outlaw parted the garments on his breast and showed
‘a. circle, imprinted in Indian ink upon the bare skin.
center of this circle were the letters, “ C. of V.," and under
this the Roman numeral “ I.” ’

“The Grand Commander!” cried the man who held the
spear. “ Let the gates of the North be open to receive
him” -

The door swung open, and he passed into a spacious
cavern, lighted by many torches, and furnished with benches
painted black. 011 four sides were raised seats draped in the
,same color, and upon the north 3 higher seat. Upon the
benches were a number of men dressed in the some munn r '
“the outlaw. and all the higher choirs were filled excl-pt ie
one on the north. to which sent the unworthy lover of Rose
St. Auhin made his way, and faced the room, when all, as _
one man, rose arid bowed before him, making the mystic sign
of welcome. ’

‘ “ Be seated." he said. striking a column by his side with
the hmhlle of a dagger which lay upon it. “Brother Sccrefi
r tat-y, is the circle complete ‘3“ i

’ “ It. is. Grand Commandant." ‘
“ Have you called the roll, and made the chain ?”
“ I have.” t
 “ Nothing is wanting to make a complete chain?
 “Nothing.” - .
- " lino»an broken 1”
'-:‘lo¢auuw- - , v

 

In the ‘A ‘

      

 

 
 

a;
at

m

'0

   

1‘

’ v 1V 'a private wrong to avenge

 
  

We.

, “ Have you tested each link to see that it has no flaw or
Weakness? Finished work alone should be brought into the
Mystic Circle.” v

“ I have tested each link by fire, sword and spear, and a
are worthy of admittance to the chain."

“My brothers, you have heard the report of the brother
secretary. Have any of you cause to think that he is wrong?
Let any speak, north, south, east or west, from the Grand
Commandant in the north to the lowest neophyte. at his left‘ ,
hand. I wait.” ‘

“ All are worthy," was the solemn reply from all sides.

“ Let it be written ; I order it so.”

“ It is written,” replied the secretary. .

“ My brothers,” said the Grand Commandant, rising in,his

' place, “ you know the object of this association and its teach<
ings. All of you have. groaned in spirit as we saw the red-
coats possess the land which had been built up by French-
men, and your hearts glowed with wrath at the insult offered
to the lilies on the white flag. Loving France as we do, it
is for the object Of avenging her wrongs that I see you here,

. bound together in one chain, too strong for mortal hands to

_ '. break. We have not been idle in these months which have

:_{,-pa,ssed, and I can report good progress in the true cause.

Our allies, the Indians, are making ready for their part of the
’work, and when the blow is struck, it will be a complete and

",final one. The signal will soon be given. Have any of you

I)”

ll

“ I denounce Mnjor Gladwyn, commandant,” said one.
“ Make the record l"

, _ “I denounce Gabriel St. Aubin, who, a Frenchman born,
will not join us against the enemies of his country,” said an
nether. '
” ' “Let his name be written. I myself denounce Edward
' Gresham, known as the Trailer, and would have his name

written in red, that he tony be justified at once. There is a

  uke charge against the Indinn Ketat‘lin, his friend and corn-
;6“ Damien, and an enemy of France who deserves to die.

Write
 his name in red."

 

    

. r “I have so written it, Grand Commandant,” replied the

     
 
    
  
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
      

RID meme.

, ‘ t I myself will deal with these two, for the good of the (lb
/ den. Let the rest remain until our next meeting, if you are

. , so greed. Be ready for the signal when it is given, and may

I;  V it come speedily. Dispel-3e.”

' ‘ The black-robed figures stole ofi‘, one by one, and scattered

, about the various houses inside the fortress, until none re-

l... I , ~ mained except the Grand Commandant and the secretary.

< ' I ' “ Where are these Indium, Entienne ‘3". said be.

t" 2 “Hidden at my house."

" ‘ “ Let us go at once. ~Edwurd Gresham and that red hound,

Ketudin, must die .to-night.”

 CHAPTER vr‘.
V FILING THE RIFLES.

’. n Rose, with some difficulty. succeeded in satisfying her fa-
? ‘ fiber that it was better to let the outlaw escape. He did not
1 ; , ‘ share in her dread of what the man might be able to do to
f Edward Gresham, knowing nothing of the secret order and
the power it had within the fortress. He had been up
 preached many times in relation to a plan'which some of his
, countrymen had formed to redeem Detroit from English rule,
  , but had uniformly refused to have any thing to do will) it.
;~ " ’ , He was one of those men who accept the situation gracefully,
' I and he had long ago seen that the power of 'his counlry was
’, _ on the wane in this land. and had satisfied himself that the
 English colonies must triumph in the end, struggle as Franco
‘ might against it '
‘ He saw, too, that those who approached him in relation to t
the pint were turbulent spirits, disuil‘ected men, or limit", who
had committed crime, nud refused to identify himself with" j
them. I _
~ ‘ ' He had chosen Detroit as a. home, and meant to live and. ;_
r  ' ’ die there, and, consequently, Wished to maintain his influenoo fl ‘ ‘
' ' withillte reigning powers. I k)" ‘
Yethe wu satisfied that there was trouble brewing»ng ‘
. . ‘ \ .’ , .j V . p In I t, ‘
,- fmi _ . , ’ r ‘ ;  .\ v I '

 

pg: _ .

 

wrwr uranium? V l

 

, » :‘j the Indians. Most ot’ his countrymen scouted the idea, espe- ‘ r. I
|  chilly those who Wished him to join the Mystic Circle, but his 'I"
. ‘ trade with the Indians gave him an opportunity to see the
‘growing discontent among them. Pontiac‘s warning came in r
l  time to make assurance doubly sure, and he was already pre- 4‘;
, .‘ paring,r for the worst. But even he did not dream how wide-' . 
,‘spread and complete the conspiracy was, and that it included . 
the entire chain of forts in the possession of the English, ' - ' 7
- which had fallen when Rodgers came against them with his y i x
f rangers. , ‘ , j,' :
He started out, next day, upon a trading visit to the Otta-
Was, hoping to draw something more from Pontiac. Rose V
> Was uneasy, and could not remain quietly in the house. She ' ’3
‘ went into the fort, and the first sight she saw was the funeral ~

~ procession of poor Pierre Guilbert, and Edward Gresham \ ‘ 
1 walking next to the bier. After the funeral he had an op-
portunity of speaking with her for a moment, and telling her-
l the manner of the old cook‘s death. l
“ You are in danger, Edward," she said. “ This, following , J,
I, w Io close upon the warning, means more than you think, and '
)t . you must be very careful."
.0. “ I know that I have enemies.”
Ld 7‘ “ You have one enemy whom you have most cause to fear I
3. -a vindictive villain, to whom blood is a pastime. This man g ' \
'is 3 will kill you if he can,” she said.
6’ I: “ What is his name Y” ,V V
in l “Edward, I have promised not to tell it, and I can not ‘ 
y. I break my oath."
M . I I “ Does your father know it ?” .
he '1 "‘Do not ask it. You are safe for the present—he prom- y I 2"

0° *‘lised me that.”

‘ p “ Safe? I should have been killed if Pierre had not (c-
m‘ >cupied my room that night instead of myself. But, let it.
ho 3 ’ pass, if you care more fora promise to a ruflian than for my
ti; ". “My? ' \-’
-‘ ‘ “Edward 1" she cried, sadly, “ you at least ought to know '.
ad: '_ better than that." ~ ~
,0. i": t“,I may wrong you ; perhaps I do, but why not tell me the
.‘M  ‘V V H “I I .y  _  if r,

..\(‘/ vy I , I ,-\ ,‘ I “ I, 

 

    
   
 

   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
  

\

RED LIGHTNING.

, “.  say no more about it,” he said, quietly, “and M
r I me go on my way blindfold. I was about to ask a favor of

“you, and now I am half-afraid to do it.” ‘

“ Ask it,” she said, eagerly.

At this moment Edward looked up and saw a Frenchman
named Entienne Barhier standing near at hand, leaning against
a tree, apparently passing the time carelessly, and without any

, definite object, but, with an eye which told a secret. He was
' listening, but Edward was not the person to show his sus-
picions and he nodded to the man, without .moving a muscle
of his face.

“ Wait for me,” he said in a whisper to Rose. “That fel-
low is listening to our conversation, and I have a few words
to say to him.”

“ Do not quarrel with him, Edward.”

“ Not I; you shall see us greet one another with the ut-
most politeness, although I am far from certain that he had
no part in the assault of last. night."

He left her, and approached Bhrbier, who did not change
his position. i

“ This was a bad business, Entienne," he said. “I would -
give all I hope to gain this season to know the author of this
mischief.” ‘

“. Pierre was a good fellow," said Entienne, slowly, turning
his dark face to the speaker. “ Rather fond of you English,_
but that was not a grave crime, as he was not alone in it. ’I
am really sorry for poor Pierre."

“ lle was a faithful, trucvhearted man, and gave his life
for mine. I am determined to find the author of this great
Irime." L

“ Indians, of course." , _

, “Two Indians and two white men disguised as savages.
One man had a sword ; does it not seem strange to you that
on. Indian should have such a weapon l?” '
> “ Sucre l” muttered Enticnne, below his breath.
flow has keen eyes.
“ Did you mark the disguised white men so as to get any
chem them, Gresham ?" he added, aloud. , " _
_ f‘ One of them was about your size and build, as for
_I. . mjudge._ He was, the first to run, so'tfi’ni‘l can judge

“ This fel-

a

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all“,

< t

 

vary-,1

  

     

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1

 

onus: ’ t‘r‘l’ltm‘

little of him. The other was face to face with me for three
'or four minutes before he fled, and I gave him a mark to re-
member him by—the villain l” ’

“ How do you know?" '~

; “Because I found this," said Edward, holding up the hot- '
tle which contained the severed finger, at which Enticnne
looked with terrified eyes. '

“ Take it away—take it away 1” he cried, spreading out his '

V hands before his face. “ Pall! it turns me sick.” , .

“ It takes but a trifle to do that, friend Btu-bier,” said Ed- ‘ ‘
ward, putting up the bottle. “ That is not all; what do you, I
say to lids for a clue ?" '

He held up his hand upon which sparkled the ring, which

i had been found upon the severed finger, and a balet'ul light ’

came into the eye of Barbier.”

+1, “ That is indeed a clue," he said. “ Will you let me look
at it. i”

“ Certainly; do you recognize the ring? There is a pe
culiarity about it, which I did not notice until this morning -
The setting forms the letters‘C of V,‘ and the numeral 1.

 I wonder what that signifies ':” , ,
r. “ How should I know 1?" replied Bat-bier, visibly disturbed.
‘“ I must bid you a good-(lay, as I have work to do.”

He hurried away, and Edward looked after him with a
keen, searching glance, his eyes sparkling with animation.

“Sou are a fox, Eutienne Barbier, but the cutest fox is _
earthed at last. and so shall you be. ‘0 of V;’ I wonder ' '

, what that means ?" t .
He turned back to where Rose stood waiting for him.
“Let us wqu toward the fortress,” he said. “I must find
Kelntlin,‘nnd go out upon my work. The favor I desired to
ask of you was this. Can you, by any means, tnakean errand
- to'the l’ottawatomie village 10-day?”
'7 “ Eatsin ; there is an Indian girl in the village who some-
’  times does my work for me and is very fond of me. 1 can r
’ , get. little David Hughes'to take me over in his canoe.” , '
I “ David is safe with a canoe, and perhaps it is better to
 _ _,hlse_a youngster like that, for they will suspect nothing." 7

 ; v_‘?.-.W,huzam 1 to do?” ’ .

x

x."

p

/

 

f 1150011150ng the village, and, as you go, have‘your eye;

4‘  ,. /

 

 
  

    
 
 

   

RED LIGHTNIN 6.

open, and immediately upon your return tell me what you \
have seen. Note carefully what the warriors are about, and

whether they are well armed.
' “ When shall I go!’

“ As soon as possible, but be particularly careful not to do
any thing to arouse their suspicions.
and liked in the village, and may go in safety. They will
take no pains to hide their movements from you, it what I

You understand met"

suspect is true." .0

“ There is David Hughes now. Call him to us.”
The youngster, when hailed, came up to them quickly, and

 showed a small form, a shrewd visage, which proclaimed '~

him a true border boy.

)“ Davy, my lad," said Edward, “ Miss Rose wants to go to
the Po.t.twatomie village. Can you take her across the river ?”

“ You bet I can. 1 know all about; this rinr, Ido l"

“ And, mind you don‘t say any thing about my hiring you.
When you come back from the trip I’ll give you two Spanish
milledvdollurs.”

“I’m your man," said Davy.
miss ‘1’"

“ Now; as soon as you can."

“Then you come right along, for I’m always ready for a
job," said Davy.

The lovers parted with a mutual pressure of the hand, he
to go out upon his perilous work, and she to perform an m

" When do you wunt to go,

,. not less dangerous, for who could say what might result. from

her visit? They reached the river side, where Davy brought
out. his canoe, a safe, commodious craft which Davy wrll
knew how to handle. She seated herself in the center [of the
light. bout, while Davy stood up in the stern, sweeping [Le
water with a nervous force hardly to he looked for in one so
young. They passed many canoes going and returning. for
of late the Indians had made thunselves very free in the vi!-
lage, going and coming at all hours. Most of those who

 passed knew Rose, and saluted her kindly as they dashed
.‘ dong. ‘

\

“' Them’sdirty-looking thieves," said the boy. “DO  ‘09

Hm little island over yender, with the high, tree in the center it '_

,S‘Yes.” ' -r .

. !

~/..:'

You are well known 5 ‘

    

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I

DAVY IN LOVE.

’ “ That’s whar Pontiac lives in the summer time. He’s too
high and mighty to live with the conunon truck. Jinks; I’m
afraid of that Injun l”

“ Why, Davy ’3"
“He don't look gnod out of his eyes, you know. The crit-
ter is up to some mischief, I reckon."

“ Don’t talk in that way among the Indians, Davy, or you I

may get: into trouble.”
“ \th-a-a-t ! You don’t think I‘m such a softy as to blow

L when them red triggers are round, do ye? 'Not any; not e!

I know it. but I keep up a powerful thinkin’, and to my min'l
ther a greasy, smoky, nasty, treacherous crowd; but, don’t tell
I said so. ’eause when I‘m with ’em I likes to have ’em think
they ar’ angels without the wings. Set steady; there‘s a
shallow here.”

She sat quiet until the dangerous spot was passed, Davy

Working industrioust to keep the head of the canoe to the”

stream, and make some headway across the. current.
“ Ther’s one gel in this yer village that is a Whoosher,”

, said Davy, as he plied the paddle.

I “ A—whnt, Davy ‘2"
“ A Whoosher, an nstonisher, a crusher! Don't understand
English, you don‘t, ’cause yer a French gal, but it means she

ain’t easy beat. Her name is Katherine, and the Indiaustcall -'

her'Wa—ta-wa Dunno what in thunder it means.”
“ Katherine is a benutiful girl, and a good one. Perhaps
I would bring her back with me if your canoe would carry

' three.”

“ Kerry three ? I guess it will i” replied Davy. “ I don’t
like to take her to the village, for that Delaware always hez
something to say to her over ther, and I‘m goin’ to marry her
when I git a farm." ~

“ Are you. Davy ?” said Rose, laughing: /

“ You bet I am 1 She ain’t quite so white as you ar’,
she ain't got much Injun in her, that‘s a fact."

By this time they were very close to the eastern shore, and
Davy gave his cuuoe a sheer which caused her to drift to the

hut

"hank, when he leaped out and secured her, and helped Rose out;

".Ihope you've thought of an arrzmd in the village, Mil

\,\ ‘ ‘y . _

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‘ /

l eVidently in doubt.

A: peculiar cry run though the rude street.

/ ' no meme.

3 I, . "‘bYes, I have come to ask Katherine to keep me company

in my house for a few days, while my father is away, ayJ to
buy some maple sugar and venison. Is that a good 81'-
rand ?" ,

“ That ’11 do ; you ain’t nohody's guy, you ain’t! Hullo,
what’s that gratin’? They ain't gone into the nutmeg busi-
ness in the village, have they 2’”

The village was some yards away, and they could see that

 ‘ the spaces between the lodges were crowded with Indians,

most of them seated upon the ground, and very busily at work.
Pushing the boat high up on the hank, Davy stopped and lis-
[tened. The lmrslt sound grew louder, and he shook his head
Rose left him with the canoe, and crossing
a little. knoll came suddenly into the village—so suddenly in
deed that the warriors did not notice her and kept at their
work. Such activity on the part of the Indian men Was
very uncommon, except when they were at war. She looked
at them closely, without appearing to do so. and saw that all
of them were employed in a very strange manner. They had
files, begged, borrowed or stolen, as the case might be. and
' were engaged in filing of their rifle barrels. so as to leave them
less than a yard in length. What could it mean?
. Rose was the daughter of a fronticrman, and, as such, ao-
customed to danger; but now she felt her blood turn cold
in her veins at the sight.
loved their rifles, and that the motive must be a very deep
one which would induce them to render their favorite wea-
‘ pous useless except at a short distance. She advanced to the
Center of the village. and, as her presence became known, a

' into his lodge, but came out after leaving his rifle inside,
sauntering about with careless case, while some of the wov
mcn' gathered about. Rose and jabbered to her asonly Indian
Women can, evidently to distract her attention. She saw

through the artifice, but it was too late; she had seen enough, '

more than enough, to satisfy her that they meant mischief,
but. too acute to leave the village hastily, she sent the Indian

.3:  Women this way and that in, quest of the articles she meant
-  Ad buy. and moceeded herself to search for Katherine, tho 4 '

moon of, whose lodge-ne- well knew. Tummy“ w

~.. t a
. 1

She knew how much the Indians "

Every Indian darted ' ,

 
 

 

fl

4'

 

  

a nut: “30!.

       

~e of a cabin, a man sprung forward and seized her by the 
and she uttered a cry of horror as she recognized the out- I
lowed Frenchman, the Grand Commandant of the Circle of ' 

Vengeance I , e ‘
l

 
     
     
   
  
  
   
    
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
    

y'-
a

13.f CHAPTER VII. ' '
navv’s 'rnxnnrn. ' ‘

THE man still wore his mask, hut Rose knew him, and
lg struggled to free herself front his fierce grasp. “At last,
11 ’ at last!" he muttered. "You have put yourself into my
ir ‘ power." . ’

“ Stand back, sir,“ replied Rose. .“ How dare you lay}
finger on my person after what. has passed 2’”

He langlnd scorntully. “ My dear girl. do you think that
because your fool uf a father chooses to lay his orders upon I
me when I run in his power, that I am green enough to obey
them after I am out of his hands ?" h

The girl cried out for help, and it came. Davy Hughes
had been sitting by the side of his canoe, waiting for the
coming of his fair friend, and watching the canoes of the
Indians passing to and fro in indolent ease, when he heard
the voice of Rose crying out. for help, as if in imminent peril.
Snatching up a paddle, he ran at full speed over the brow of

3 the hill and into the village, where he snw Rose struggling
‘ in the strong grasp of a masked man, who was dragging her / ,
'nway. Thinking of nothing but her peril, the boy dashed
forWu‘d, and the first knmvledge of hisrprcsent-e which’the
outlaw received was a mp on the head which made his ears

sing and myriads of stars dance before his eyes. Staggering 1
back from the shdck, he sunk upon his knee, nndI as the ’ 7
blnrr passed from his eyes. he. saw the brave boy standing .‘
.between him and Rose, with the paddle heaved back over ‘ ;. ,i:
. his'shoulder, ready to strike again if necessary. 
“ Wah—yip," yelled the boy. “ Waken up and walk; I 7 ~ '_

r gluten! What do you put your dirty Merlin-taunt» 1_
:V‘I'f'ui ‘ '.- 4, . .. ' ,, .'  ' 11% ':(

I

D “HI—pom

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m LIOIITNIN G. *

3' You young sconndrel,” hissed the outlaw, leaping up with '

his hand upon his forehead. “ How dare you strike me ?”

“ Shall I give him another, Miss Rose ?" cried Davy, ea<
gerly. “ Oh, say yes, and I‘ll give it to him, good.”

“ Do not'strike him again, you brave, goml boy,” said Rose.-
“ Oh, I am so thankful to you for coming to help me, and
Edward will thank you too.”

“ That’s enutl‘," said Davy, grufliy. “Ef the Trailer feels
kind 0’ grateful to me, I'll tell you how he kin git even, if
he’ll do it. Stand ofl‘, you pizen ; don't go for to come nigh

—. me, or I‘ll give you one that’ll make you see more stars then

that is in a cl’nr sky on a frosty night.”

At this moment there was a commotion in the crowd of
frightened Indian women who had gathered, and they scat-
tered like sheep as the towering form of Pontiac passed

*through, and he faced the insulter with an ominous look in

‘ his fierce eyes.
“ What is this, my brother l” he said.
and would know the cause."
“ That spawn of the reptile has dared to strike me,” replied
the outlaw, pointing at Davy Hughes.
“Yes. and I’ll hit you ag‘in ef you put a hand on Miss
Rese, yon scum of the airth! Come, I ain’t afraid of you,

“ I hear a tumult

u ’ you durned French sneak.”

” “ Bright Star,” said Pontiac. his grim face relaxing, as it

" ' . V always did in the presence of Rose, “you are welcome to the

yillage. Has any man dared to do you wrong while here?”

' “ He has,” replied Rose. “ He seized upon me. and swore

that I should go with him.” i
“ Has my brother done this ?” demanded Pontiac, turning

‘ to the outlaw.

“ She is mine, and I will have her," replied the other,
‘fiercely.

“ What claim has my brother upon thebright Star ?"

“ She iri‘to be my wife.”

“ It. is false,” replied Rose, indignantly. ‘* I despise him.”

.f‘lhave looked upon ‘the customs of white men," said

'W WW. ind has wmged’ the

.'\' - I» ' . ’.. l

 

1‘.\ .

"'benf‘acr,“ find I have seen that they are .very‘ tender to their It .
lumen. when they love them. 'My brother has done a great
hospitality 01 Punting

/. '.

  

   
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

 

 

   

fur-“w

 

 

INDIAN HOSPITALITY.

t

See: I went to Detroit and said to the Bright Star and to her
father, the good trader, ‘ You are always welcome to the

been insulted. My brother, if an Indian had done it, I would

_ have laid'him dead at my feet."

“V You have no right to interfere in this, Pontiac; it is a
private matter.”

“ This is my village.
always.”

“ And you mean to take her out of my hands, chief ‘3"

“ She is as safe here as in her father's lodge," replied Pon-
tiac, with a kindly smile. “ If my brother ever again does a
wrong to the Bright Star, he makes an enemy of Pontiac,
Who has loved him well.” ' ~

“ And I am not to punish that young dog who struck me
With his paddle ?"

“ The boy is brave and will make a warrior," replied Pon-
tiac, laying his hand protectingly upon the shoulder of the
brave lad. " “1 will not see him wronged by you or any
man.”

“Have it as you will,” replied the outlaw; “ but I will not
forget it in the time to come.” ,

Saying this, he strode rapidly away and disappeared among
the lodges. The chief and outlaw had just returned from
their conference at the three pines, where they had been so

The Bright Star shall be safe here

river-side, and managed. to find a canoe, in which they had
Dl'oceedetl to the village. .

“ Will my daughter rest and take food after the perils of
the h Mr ‘I" said Pontiac.
“1 have no time, chief, but must return to Detroit at

. once.”
I “ Will the good trader come soon to the lodges of the Qt-

ta“.a 1,7!
“ He says he will.” ‘ a

“ It is good; Pontiac will welcome him to his viliage‘ I I
- Have the words which the chief spoke sunk into the ears of
‘ the Bright Star, and will she remember 1’"

 

‘ K  have not forgotten. New letme bldyoulgood-daynhd
" ' . t ‘ ' , -' ‘ , “

: lodges of the tribes,’ and 61:, the first time she comes she has ’

I _1rightened by the mysterious voice, speaking from the earth. ’
. After their first fear left them they had gone down to the

 

   

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 

   

   

1’ If.“

./,,

LIGHTING. t '

i

let! Katherine, w om I wish to take back to Detroit with, '-
' me. If you will be so kind, I should like to have you send ' ;
some venison and sugar to my canoe, and I will pay for "

them.” , ' u ,

“ May not Pontinc give these things to a friend? Look; 
we will not take money from the hand of the daughter of the ‘
good trader for a little venison and sugar."

{ He called to one of the braves who was lounging near, and
gave him an order in the Indian tongue. The man moved '
away with alacrity to perform his bidding, and Pontiac beck-
onetl to a woman to appmach and sent her for Katherine. In

' a few moments a graceful girl, dressed in a neat Indian cos;
,tnme, with u mild, and strangely-beautiful face, came forward.
. This was Wu-ta-ws, or Katherine, for by that name she was
known among the whites. She approached Rose with a
beaming smile, and taking her hand pressed it to her lips; .
while Pontiac looked at these two types of female beauty, the ‘

r [blends and the brunette, with undisguised admiration.

“ What is the will of the Bright Star with Katherine ?"
said the Indian girl. ‘

“ Wul you come to Detroit, and stay with me. for a few,
days ‘3”

Katherine looked inquirineg at the chief, and he nodded
slightly. The chief then drew Katherine aside, and eonversed
with her earnestly in the Indian tongue for some moments.

> Just then Davy, wno had accompanied the Indian sent away
\ by Pontiac, came back and said that a good supply of sugar
t and venison were in the canoe, and that he was ready to go. '
The lad winked at Katherine, who showed her white teeth in
‘a guy laugh.
' “. See," she said ; “ this boy will be a chief, and he says that
when he is a man he will make me his wife l" _
i “ He is a brave boy, and I love him,” said Rose. “ He

'1 ’“ has protected me from a bad man.”

I “ The man who covers hisfece, and wears the shining wetn-
pum in his belt 1’" '
' ' -‘.'Yes..”

  Mlle/is a wicked men, for he spoke wickedrworrls to Keth- / 

' V'erine. The

h” Bright Star mint not cross hiepsth, for his “88 1.2.,

es ~.

 

 

  

  
  

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' felt a sisterly affection for her in her sorrows.

/
m3 mmrorx'rmn.

" I’ll give him a wipe that’ll clean him oti‘ the face of the A
airth,” said Davy, stoutly.

“ I have no doubt you Would if you could, Davy."

“ Bet ye I would. ' He ain‘t no great shakes. that Eel
ler." ‘

They were soon in the canoe, and crossing the river in the
direction of Detroit. This course was easier than the upward
one, and in a short time they landed. Davy undertook to
bring up the venison and sugar, while Rose hurried home,'uc-
companied by Katherine. The first object which they saw
upon reaching the gate was Ketadin, leaning against a post,
apparently wailing for them. Half-crouching on the earth
beside him was the worn and tattered figure of Wild Madge,
the maniac wife of poor Willie Sinclair. The eyes of Kath-
erine br'ghtened as she saw the stately form of the Del-
aware, and, although he managed to keep up an expression 1

‘ v of complete stoicism, it was an utter failure on his part, for

his joy at meeting her showed itself in his face. Rose knew
how matters stood between the rcdoubted Delaware and Kath-
erine, and was pleased at bringing them together.

“ Who have we here, Ketadiu ‘2" she said, looking at
Madge. - .

“ Poor woman ; Gresham sent her from the woods.” ,

“ Who is she ?" -_
‘ “ Don’t you \know me, child 1’" said Madge, in a petulant ,
voice. “ I am Madge Sinclair; surely you know my Willie." ’

“ Willie Sinclair ?”

“ Yes; have you seen him?" demanded the woman,
eagerly. \

‘ No," replied Rose, sadly.
for you must be very weary.” I

“ Yes, I am weary, hut Gresham told me that Willie m‘igh
be here. I am so sorry that he has not come." ' ’

Rose knew the touching story of this woman‘s life, and,
Her acute,
mind at once took in Edwhrd‘s object in sending Madge.
They entered the.kitchen. Ketadin .took the opportunity to
, ptessclose. to.Katherine and look into her eyes, which at

l t  once dropped before his own: "They had broken the stick of r’ 1.‘

  hm, been mama wtta batmactiil but ., 

l ‘7... \ ‘ ‘t

. " ‘
k I” .  1

“ Come into the house and rest,‘ A ‘

   
 

    
   

     
 

‘  x, ’ “ Here 19 Rose,” said Edward.
. be In“! in this matter, but we can not be too secure; Ron,

I

‘ RED LIGHTNING.

struggle. At this moment Davy came into the kitchen, and
son.

“Ef that Injun ain‘t here already, Miss Rose!
you think it fair to let him cut in on me, that way 5’” V

“ What is the matter, Davy ?" said Rose, laughing, while
she was taking off the ragged sash which Madge wore upon
her shoulders

“Matter? Matter enufil I reckon I

Say, do

That Injun ain‘t no

 call to cut in and talk to Katherine before I get a chance.”
Thus grumbling, the boy betook himself to the canoe for '

another load, and worked steadily until all had been brought
up. In the meantime Rose Prevailed upon Madge to lie down
upon her bed and rest, and she was soon sleeping heavily.

“ Where is Edward, chief ‘!" asked Rose.

"‘ He is with Gladwyn at the fort."

. “ Go to him at once, and tell him that I have news of im—
portance. 0r stay; you remain here with Katherine, and
take care of her, and I will go myself."

Donning her hat, she left the house, and passing rapidly
through the scattered suburb, entered the palisaded in-
closure of the fort. As she reached the fort gates, she met
Entienne Barbier, who gave her a. very ambiguous look and
smile as she entered.

“Edward is right about that man,” she said. “ He has a
strangely-forbidding look, and I always feel a. sense of danger
when I meet his evil eye. I believe he is in some way con-

t nected with the Jesuits."

She passed on and rapde at a door, when an orderly ap.;
peared. Sending in her name to Major Gladwyn, she was at
once admitted, to find Edward.with the major, a handsome,
butPidle-looking man in a military fatigue dress, who was
lounging at his length upon a Sofa while he received the re-
port of the scout, Who was leaning over a small table, upon
which stood a decanter and glasses.

“I admit that we might

What lb you; mp0" 9» ‘ ,

‘ .

‘ r (or the side which the Delaware took in the approaching V

t

t “In  my be my commanded etadwyn,  '  

 
 
   
 
 
 
   
   
  
   
  
 
   
   
  
   
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
     

  

gt ‘sltti

'fiBose ?

looked daggers at the chief as he laid down a load of veni- ‘

, h T
={g-impor
A u I
I“ but
Rt:
told ‘
to hi
are i
lent
’trou
' '1
firm
wri

 

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ing
ind
:ni-

do

A mom 0! mm

1  “sitting posture. “Will you take some refreshment, Miss
Rose?" '

,,' “Thank you, I wish for nothing, but I have something very

‘yimportunt to tell you.”

I ‘ “I will hear it,” said Gladwyn. with an incredulous look;

’“but this is a. time of strange misconceptions.”

Rose delailed her visit to the Indian village, and when slip
told them of the Indians filing otf their rifles, Edward started
to his feet. I

“ Do you hear that, major? New will you believe that we
ire in danger ?”

“ It looks suspicious, I admit." said the other, in“ an indo-
lent tone. “ Why will these fellows persist in making us
f trouble when we Were getting on so finely?”
' The door opened and the orderly came in. “A message ‘
' from Pontiac,” he said, and held out a strip 015 white paper,
Written closely over in French.

The three looked at it and at one another. It was a de-

‘ mend for a. conference with Pontiac and sixty leading chiefs
r, and wurriors of the Three Nations, of whom Pontiac was the
head, upon the next day.

    
    
 

 

CHAPTER VIII.
TEE VICTIM or run CIRCLE.

Tm: night was one of deep trouble in the fort. Most ‘of
the officers feared some evil, for they had been called to a
conference, and been warned to be especially upon their guard
‘ during the coming darkness, and to allow no one to pass in
or out. Edward returned with Rose utter the meeting in
Gladwyn‘s room, but was inside the gates before gun-fire, ac-
mrding to orders. As he approached his doorI he became
; ' aware that a white paper was attached to it, pinned to the

wood by a small dagger. Pulling out the blude carefully, he .

and

 

 
 
 

 inkrwas the outline of ‘ a human

a ,mist theselwm'ds: '

head grasping a sword,

1'? Wed the paper and took it inside. ‘ Upon the “letter, in rod _, _. ‘ 'y

 
 

    
   
  
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
  
   
 
   
    
    
     

m 1116 EMO-

“Edwmfi Gresham, the Trailer : ’ ' - :. r 0‘
“'Ijmce you have been warned, but you would not heedxgyk
Nothing can save you now; your blood must flow“ Beware . b

the sword of the— C. of V." h

I " / r | “ Umph l” muttered Edward. “ My mysterious friends are 7 11
K at work again, but their warning shall not be all unheeded. a

We shall see." . l:

Ketadin soon joined him. The sentries had been doubled
,Hpon the ramparts of Fort Detroit, and save these. no one was i g
in the street. About. one o‘clock a side-door in the house
_ g ._ next to Gresham‘s opened, and there stole out three somber , 1
f.‘ » ‘flgnrcs in masks and cloaks, and crept along in the shadow of _ l
' V ‘ the buildings until they reached the rear door of Grcshnm‘s‘ 3 1
I " place, Evidendy the lock hal been tampered with. for it new 7 l
j.  ‘qnired but a slight effort on the port of one of the disguised
 ~ ' ,men'to open it without noise, and, as it swung back upon its ", ,

fl hinges, they stole in, closed the door behind them, and were ‘ '.

’ "'1 1 ready for their bloody work.

I They were now in the rear mom of the.little house, gen-

. emlly used as a, kitchen. The darkness was complete, but

. one of the intruders sprung the slide of a dark-lantern, letting
A to faint light, fall upon the room. The men moved noiselessly, ‘
.L V - for their feet were hero, and not a creaking board or the rus-

v‘,;' _ tle of clothing betrayed their presence. Who were these?
' r a _ The appointed messengers of the Circle of Vengeance. come
to perform the work of the order! . .‘. '

‘ As they advanced to open the door which led into the sito- "
ting-room, they were conscious of a slight rustling sound and
puused. The door began to swing slowly on its hinges. ,
Each man bored his dagger as the door opened to its extreme ,
mywidth, apparently without the agency of human hands. They , ‘
waited. in silence. expecting to see eitht :- Ketadin or Erlwml ; l
,, but. instead, there glided through the doorway a figure which »‘ .
A they well knew—the form of Pierre Guilbert, the deed - 1‘,
’Voyageurl Behind him a dim light burned, and the gan- ~
,ments in which he was clothed were spotted with blood from .-
 many wounds, and his face was red with gore. .
_ 1 'He advanced with that gliding, noiseless motion cherncterf 3
U z‘, “mic 0“ 918" Ipirita of- the other world, with one hand holding ‘/
. “P “11 Musing finger pointed at the three  

l r»-
.

 

        

4-"

  

  
 

—-q..famrg.v

‘ it with frantic violence, but it resisted their etforts, while that

I? the kitchen, carrying sash and a‘.l into the street.

‘ . He was forced down, a. handkerchief stuffed into his mouth,

r<<.

‘5 would you like to {be scalped ?"

 

GHOITLY VISITORS.

r other raised to heaven, as if appealing to. its justice; A single
'look was sufficient. With cries of horror, the three men
‘ bounded to the door by which they had entered, only to find
it locked upon the other side. They threw themselves against

   
 
 
 
   
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
     

dreadful figure stood in the center of the room, pointing its
'bloody finger at them.

“ It. was not I—iL was not I, Pierre i" cried one of the in
truders, in a tone of frenzy. “ Others struck you down."
> Then another terrible figure bounded in, holding in one
hand n blazing torch. it was a giganlic form, clothed in a.
— while sheet. spotted with gore, and a. bloody knife in its right
hand. The terrified men dashed straight at the window of
Two of 
them rose, pale and bleeding, but a third remained, strug-
gling in the grasp of the strange being who had entered last.

and, closely bound, was dragged into an inner room. where ,
he Was left to himself, for the phantoms disuppeared- as sud- " 7'
,denly as they had come. Five minutes after, Edward Gresh- '
‘ um came into the room with a lamp in his hand and stooped,
over him.
“ He! who are you, and what are you doing here i’"
The prisoner of course could not speak, but he uttered .
some inarticulate sounds. Edward removed his hat and held ‘ '
' the lamp close to his face, and recognized in him one of the
' most turbulent spirits among the French residents, and a great,
friend of Entienne Barbier. .
, “ Ah, Jacques Grillon, my friend, this is yourself, it seems.
' Ketadin. come in here, and bring your knife.”
I The Delaware glided in and kneeled beside the shrinking
wretch, pugsing his hand over the crown of his head in u
fenrfully sugges:iVe manner. ,
“ Swré ! Wlmt are you about to do, Gresham ‘37' he cried,
as Edward removed the gag. “ Don’t let the acqursed Indian
‘ tench me.“ ‘ - t
“ My dear friend Jacques," said Edward pleasantly, “ how

r

      
 

j “ Scalpod?"

 

 

 

 era-'3’.

 
 

   

BID LIGHTNING.

  
     
 
   
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
     
    
   

“ You surely do not'mean it ?"
x “ I» don’t mean any thing else. You are about to die no;
less you tell at once and truly what you are doing here.”
“ Wren! I won’t tell you 1 Do you think me a fool 1‘"
“On the contrary, I think you are a very Wise mun. I
should consider you what you have called yourself if you re-
} fused to answer questions so earnestly put as mine are.”
5 ,‘ _' ‘ “I will not betray my trust."
‘  “ Scalp him, Ketadin."
“("1 . , The Indian twined his hand in thelong locks of the French»
7' ' man in a scientific manner, drew his knife, and made an in-
/ cision in the scalp of the prisoner, who uttered a crv of horv
I'OI‘.
“Help, help, they murder me i” he cried. ~-
.\ _ - “ Will you answer my questions ?"
I," ‘ “ Yes, yes." \
‘ r “ Good ; you know what I asked you i" .
1 6 ,1 “ I came to kill you." .
.i. ’ “ Who sent you i"
.- ' ' “The friends of Little Prophet."
‘ * ' “ Were you incited by Pontiac?” _
’V ~ “ Yes.”
, “ You expect me to swallow this. my dear Jacques?”
 ' ' “ I am telling you the truth.”
'. ~ “ Oh, no; you are lying to me. I am not so easily do-
ceived as not to know that an Indian never sent this." ;'
 _ He held up the paper. upon which was written the lust
warning of the Circle of Vengeance. The man co wed at the .
fight. and a look of fear passed over his face.
I. “ What does ‘ C. of V.’ mean ?” demanded the young man.
“ How should I know ?”
a: , ._y 1 v “ Go ahead, Ketadin,” said Edward. “ This man is deter- a
 ,1 mined to die.” ' I ‘ 4
Again he felt the knife-point applied to his naked flesh, and ’
.Ihrieked in terror. '
_ V, I “ I will tell, I will reveal all, and take the consequences."
":4' ' ,1;  You have decided wisely, young man. Release him, Ke-
' ‘ “din. but, by heaven, if he balks again he is nodend ‘mauf'r
I , , “  you promise me, it 1 reveal all, and leave the order ’ ‘
: 1'1!”th mamember, that I mu go {mew-"4179';

‘1 R“, \

 

  

  

5.
].

 
 
 
 

I DISCLOEUIE.

 
 
 

“ If your revelation is of suflicient importance to justify it
I promise not to appear against you for your part in this at
fair." >

“ Let us understand one another perfectly. I can reveal the
secrets of an order, banded together for the express purpose of
extermitmting the English residents and garrison at. every
point from l'resque Isle to Michllimackinne. Would that be
mflicient to free me “I”

“ It would.”

“ And you promise, if I do this, upon your honor not to let \ 
mo suffer '1” t

V “ I do."

“ Tht-n' there is my hand, and I will reveal every thing.”

At this moment a masked face rose to n level with the Win-

(low, and peered curiously in through the half-closed shutters
Jacques Grillott was lifted to a chair. fucing the window. Ke-
tadin and Edward stood in front, facing him, the young scout
seated and the ltt'tlian standing near with folded arms.

“ You have promised to betray these villains, and they de-
serve it,“ said Edward. “ Go on.” t

“ You must know—” hegnn Grillon. ~

Just then a. pistol cracked, and Jacques Grillon, stricken I
through the breast by the ball, fell forward upon his face.

They ran to lift him, and us they did so, a great: gush of
blood sprungr from his wounded breast and a gray pallor, the

  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

 

'IL

' , shadow of death, crept over his dark face.

Ketadln swung .,
open the door and rushed out, but no one could be seen. Ed-
ward supported the dying wreteh upon his knee and looked

.4 into his face. ,

“ Speak, if you can, and tell me who has done this mur-
der.”

The man essayed to speak, but twice the words died upon '
his lips. Edward bent close and heard these disconnected
words: |

“ Circle of Vengetmce—heware—Entienne Barbier—and
Gaston Delisle—-ah 1”

He gave an upward, convulsive spring, a great gush of
blood sprung from his wounded breast, and his soul had fled

    
   
    
  
     

 

 

 

 
 

, _unshrivan‘,withthesecrets ettho CircleofVengeaneeloelud 

1

    

 

 

  

(‘4‘ ’A ..

 hm 11?? heart. pinning upon his breast a paper upon
3W.mdthesewordu U ' ’ .' /

, [08309 Punishes ajalse one“

“D LIGHTNING.

“This is horrible," said Edward, as he laid the body
down. “ Ketadin, did you see the murderer t”
“ No, he had fled. The English have many enemies in

Detroit, who will open their doors to cover such men as A

these.”

“The man deserved his fate, for, after all, he came here ‘

to do a murder, perhaps two, at the bidding of the men by
whom he has been slain. Raise the body and carry it into
the kitchen.” . ,

They took up the corpse and laid it on the kitchen table,
and Edward brought a white sheet and covered it. By this
time the alarm had been given and the drums began to bent,

, calling out the troops, for n pistol-shot by night in such times

.as these was enough to startle the garrison. Edward snatched
up his cap, and, accompanied by Ketndin, run to the major’s
quarters to tell him the cause of the nlnrm, and advise him to
keep quiet about it. They found Glndwyn, half-dressed, just
'leaving his quarters to ascertain the cause of the alarm, and
in as few words as possible told him the story.

Gladwyn called an» orderly.

“ G0 to Captain Rodgers and tell him that there is no cause
for alarm.”

5‘ Yes, sir."

“ Order him, in my name, to send the troops back to their
Quarters, and let me have a guard of ten of the rangers at
'once.”

The orderly hurried away, while the major led the way to
his private room.

“ I will go with you and examine this body when the guard
arrives." said Gladwyn. “ There they are."

' '_. A measured tramp announced the coming of the guard.
‘ The major, followed by Edward and his red friend, went down '
3 the street, to Edward’s house.

_ door, they entered.

Leaving the guard at the
Once in the kitchen and a lamp lighted,
all started back in horror. The sheet no longer covered the
body ; the throat had been cut, and a long dagger driven.

"V‘Y‘fTho-VTultonJaeqm Grillon. Thus the Circle of Ven-
Look, and tremble. 0 Km V.”

‘ .

A. ‘ . r .

 
    
   
 
 
  
   
 
 
     
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
   
 
 

which * ’

 

 
     

\ 

  
 

a

l

CHAPTER IX.
'rms s'ronM BREAKS.

, THAT night, under cover of the darkness, Ketadin stole'

out of the fort, with orders to hurry clown the coast toward
Niagara, to meet Lieutenant Cuyler and his men, already be- '
5' lieved to be on their way to join the garrison, and who might

thus be made to hasten their course and reach Detroit before

,- the storm burst upon them. Early in the morning Edward

.might have been seen passing to and fro among the traders

» hunters and voyageurs, giving them orders in a low tone of
, Voice.

The day broke clear and cloudless, and the sun, when
it rose, shone upon green fields and happy dwellings. As the
mists lifted from the earth, the garrison saw that the river
was alive with canoes, coming from the eastern shore. These
canoes appeared to contain only two or three warriors each

. but the experienced eyes of the border-men noting how heat!
ily they moved, and how low they sunk in the water, sns

_ pected that many more Indians than could be seen lay upon {

the bottom of the light water-craft.
The broad common behind the fort soon was crowded
with Indian women and children, and strong warriors, each

' .4 wrapped in a long blanket, carefully held about their persons

All moved rcstlcssly to and fro, apparently eager for the
game of ball which was expected between the'trihes. The
- men, after swntering about for a whileI would move cure-
lessly toward the gate, and all were readily admitted. Had
Gladwyn gone mad, or was this a subtle scheme to entrap
the warriors of the tribe?

Pontiac had crossed in canoes from the eastern shore, and -

at the' head of sixty chiefs of the various tribes blazing in t
- barbarous flnery, maved down the river-road. A historian of t
 the time gives the following account of this terrible band :

2‘“ At ten o’clock the great war¢chief and his treacherous
followers reached the fort, and the gateway was thron

I - with their savage faces. I All Were wrapped to the'throat tn' ,

 

_' 5‘ ffll’eir colored blankets. Some were  with hawk, 03310.}? ' '

   
   
 
  
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
   

 
 

  
  

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
    
   
   
   

RED LIGHTNING.

or raven plumes; others had shaved their heads, leaving

only the fluttering scalp-lock on the crown; while others, x. V

again, were their long black hair flowing loosely at their
backs. or wildly hanging about. their brows like a lion’s mane.
Their bold, yet crafty features, their cheeks besmeared with
ocher and vermilion, white lead and soot, their keen. deep-
set eyes gleaming in their sockets, like those of a rattlesnake,
'gave them an aspect grim, uncouth and horrible. For the
most part they were tall, strong men, and all had a gait and
bearing of peculiar stateliness.” ,
At the right hand of Pontiac strode a man about the same
hight as himself, gaudy in barbarous ornaments, and painted
in alternate bars of ocher and vermilion. This man’s hair
was confined in a sort of head-dress of eagle-feathers, and he
seemed a fit leader for this terrible band. As they crossed
the gateway these savage chiefs exchanged looks of hatred
and surprise, for they saw that their coming had been pre-
pared forvin a way they had not anticipated. On either
hand as they passed through the gatewayythe regular garri-
son of the fort. about one hundred and thirty in number,
were drawn up in serried lines, through which the chiefs
must pass to reach the quarters of the council-house. Their
arms and aceouterments glittered brightly in the sunrays, and
upon every face was a look of stern determination which
boded ill for the Indians when the struggle began. Passing
through this line, Pontiac saw other bodies of men, whom he
had greater reason to fear than even the regulars These
were the half-wild mtgnges of the traders and. hangers-on ot the
garrison, hunters, trappers and voyagems—men who knew
/all the tricks of Indian subtlety. and could fight them on their
own ground and in their own way. Pontiac noted, too, that

Edward Gresham was passing to and fro among these men,_ .

who were armed to the teeth, whispering to this one,’making

a sign to that, and apparently warning them to be fully upon

their guard. From time to time the tap of a drum,.and a
‘ stern word of command could be heard,and Pontiac saw that
his great scheme for taking the English by surprise had fall-
83 to [the ground. Windowsopened as the Indians passed,
 the-White faces of women and children looked at, them,.
@911an andlangious fem. . ‘ - m ’
, , , ,

, z.” w

  
     
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
  

 

 

 

 

   
 
   
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
       

 

 

,belt—J’ extending the wampum in an inverted position. "

TEE mm Home

mask his chagrin under the screen of Indian stoicism, although
some of the younger chiefs murmured and exchanged glances
of defiance with the citizens and soldiery.

They traversed the little town from end to end, and reached
the doors of the council-house—a low wooden building upon
the bank of the river. Here they were received with great

’ ceremony by Gladwyn and his otficcrs, who were in uniform,

and were their weapons ostentatiously displayed. There was
a look of determination upon every countenance which the
warrior chief did not like, and his restless eyes wandered from

‘ -face to face, andessayed to find if he had been betrayed.

Mats had been spread for the Indians, and all took their seats
except Pontiac, who stood up and asked Gladwyn why so
many of his young men were in the street, and armed.

“' Surely, I could not do less in receiving this great circle

of mighty chiefs,” replied Gladwyn, in a slightly sarcastic
The great chief glanced at him in a distrustful man- "

tone.
ner, and then looked at a calico screen which crossed the
council-room at one end, which waved to and fro at every
passing breeze. After the formalities indispensable in such

- times as these, Pontiac took a wampum-belt in his hand and
mac, while Edward Gresham whispered a sentence in the ear .:

of Gladwyn.
“ What does the Trailer say so low that a great chief may

.not hear?” demanded Pontiac, indignantly.

He spoke in admiration of the great chief of the Ottawas,”
replied Gladwyn. “ Let the chief speak." _
The decisive moment was near at hand. The wampum~

’ belt which Pontiac held was the medium through which the _‘

fatal signal was to be given which should doom to death every
Englishman in Detroit. The wily savage commenced his‘

speech byrspeaking of the long~continued friendship between

the Indians and their English brothers, and announced that
they had come to smoke the pipe of peace with the English.

“ Here stand 1, English Pontiac,” he cried, “ and I give this
, This was the signal appointed. ‘ ‘
. :Every blanket-dropped, and disclosed a short rifle hidd-
beneash its IoldJl-r " t . - " ; ‘ * 1.;me

_ u

Disappointed as he was, this able chief knew well how to

 
  
 

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 

       
        

' nettlers, attended mass at their church.

at» momma.

., U Their muscles were stiffening for the leap when Gladwyn

waved his hand. The roll of the drum and clash of steel
succeeded; the calico curtain was drawn up, disclosing forty

, rangers, completely armed, glaring at the disappointed chiefs,

with their long rifles ready. A single moment only the op-

' posing bands stood glaring at each other, and then the uns

ruffled Glndwyn waved his hand again, and the curtain drop-
ped before the ambushed rangers.

' ‘1 How is this, Pontiac i’” cried Gladwyn.
to me with rifles instead of wampnm ?”

The chief made no reply, for his eagle eye was fixed upon
the face of Edward Gresham, as he sat by the side of the
major, and he cried to him in the Indian tongue:

“ You did this." ,
~ “You are right, traitor. I it was, and I am prouder of
this art than any I have ever done. You are trapped, with '
arms in your hands, and what have you to expect ?”

The_only reply of the chief was to shake a threatening
finger at the speaker, and then he turned to Gludwyn. The
major now rose, and in no measured terms upbraided the

[chiefs for their premeditated treachery. He assured them
that he would deal out ample vengeance against the tribes
Were, the attempt reneWed, and bade them begone at once..

Gladwyn is open to censure for this act, but. he did it for ’
the best. It was in his power to detain the party as hostages
for the good conduct of their warriors, and perhaps if he had
done so all might have been well and much bloodshed been
spared. But he regarded it as one of the customary Indian
outbreaks. easily suppressed, and did not do justice to the
abilities of the chief who led them. Without another word,
Pontiac gathered his men about him and departed, taking

“ Do you come

\ with him every Indian who had penetrated the fort.

There was little rest in Detroit that night. Early on the
morning following, Rose St. Aubin, with the other French
> Returning she saw
that the Indianswere gathering in great numbers, and Pen-
tiac advanced to the fort and demanded admittance. He was
_‘°1f“>y Gladwyn, who appeared upon the rampart, that he
W Miter 1!» he. chose, but that, the great bund‘ ire-bod

;‘ if: 3.  with him mustrenmin outside.

 

 

v rul ~:’

 

 

  

 

\ ,~ ,I.

nose or men. ’ 9’

“We have come to smoke the calttmet with our white
brothers; all the warriors would drink in the friendship 01
the English.” 7

“ You alone can enter,” replied Gladwyn.

The chief gave him a glance of defiance, and turning on his
heel gave-a signal whoop. At that sound the warriors .rose
as one man, with yells which curdled the blood of the lil
' tenet-s, and ran half frantic with passion through the village.

Woe to the English who were-so unfortunate as t; :utside
the fort in that terrible hourl Their doors were beaten in,
one after another, and not one was left to tell the. story \
Pontiac‘s plans had been Well laidI and with the single ex-
ception of Detroit, all the upper and lower forts fell into' the
-net. And, but for the part which Edward Gresham had taken
in this siege, this important pest would have fallen also.
The white garrison, helpltss, looked on and saw the victims
dragged from their houses, impaled upon knife-points, scalped,
and left to rot' upon the earth, until buried by the French
Canadians. most of whom had no part in this wild butchery.
Luckily, but few English people lived without the walls, and -
these were cut ed" at once, while the terrified Canadians
looked on, fearful of giving aid—only the brothers of the
Circle of Vengeance viewing the bloody work with joyful
. eyes. . _
L \ Pontiac took no part in the slaughter, neither did he make
any efl'ort to restrain his men other than giving them a stern,
command to beware that not a hair of a Frenchman‘s head
was touched. While the work of destruction went on, he I
began moving the Indian camps from the eastern side of the
river, and before many hours Detroit was in a state of siege.
( ‘mdwyn, looking from his ramparts. saw the motley best by
which he was girdled, and while he maintained a bold front,
' he was not without fear that they would storm the work, and
Win it by sheer force of numbers. ‘

Etlwurd standing upon the ramparts when the fierce devils
were let. loose, saw three men steal up the walk to St. Aubin’s
. house. They flung open the door without ceremony, and two
tot-them remained outside, while the third entered. Even at ‘

3

7, x’ that distsnce, Edward recognized him as the strange cud,

1 $7.!“ by fontiee’uide when, he.

\

  

  
    
    
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
   
    
  
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
       
      
 

  
  

RED LIGHTNING. .
A - ' treacherous errand, so ably foiled by Gladwyn. What did
_ ' this man seek in the house of St. Aubin—s man known to
 be a general favorite among the Indians? Surely no ham 7 “I
;  A was intended to Rose. The young man was frantic with fear, ‘1’
" ‘ and only his strong sense of duty enabled him to keep from . i‘ “‘
leaving the fort and hastening to the aid of the woman he
‘ loved so well. He saw the two Indians in front leave the k
door and go to the back of the house, but just then the voice. f‘
of Gladwyn called him. ’u
“ 1 need your aid, Mr. Gresham. Do you think it possible ‘1
I that we are in any danger from these inside the walls l’” 3 I 
\t- . ' “ It is possible that many of them need watching, sir. t
.43, ‘ None of us will take‘xnuch rest, if we save Detroit from these "
_ " black-hearted fiends." , ‘
'7 ' V “ Your eyes are better than mine, Mr. Gresham. Can you‘ 2
l
l

,f , make out where those canoes are going 1'"
“ They are after p00r Fisher the sergeant, who lives on Isle
, an Cochon. I am afraid there is no hope for'him.”
3*: 1' “ Oh that treacherous Pontiaol Would to God I had shot
him down, when first his guilt was laid bare before me. Do . ‘
you think Cuyler is in danger ‘3" t
“\I do not doubt it. Yonder Indian in an able leader, and

I shall be surprised if many of the outlying forts do not fall
4 . . before his wiles. All of them can not be as lucky as we are,
and you will excuse me if I say that the men of the 60th are I '
=. ‘not like the rangers, or even my men."

‘/ ’\ =r “ Will Ketadin be in time to warn Cuyler ?”

' 1- ‘ “ I' fear not." ,
I No more was said, and Gladwyn paced to and fro uneasily,
 , Icoking down upon the savage host which hemmed them in
 ,- on every side. Just. then be Was called to the water gate ‘
L ‘ ' '1 vthere a canoe had landed, containing two Frenchmen, who
 v brought. the sad news that two brave officers, Sir Robert

> Davers and Captain Robertson, had fallen into an ambush 1‘

V 4 above St. Clair and were slain, and that the band which did

v V; v the deed, a large portion of the Ojibway nation, had already
-~ ' joined Pontiac. ' , r

I   ‘As night came on Edward had an interview with Gladwyo, I 

' CF“ obtained leave to go out and scout through the Icamplbf 
 Gonfldcm  muel'fibifivyyfithdm  .'

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- / \' 1:) ~\ lye,
xvi \ :w

  

   
 
 
    
   
 
 
    
    
  
    
  
    
   
  
   
  
     
     
   
      

ammom.

'y Went to his own house to prepare for his expedition. Hal
i an hour after a stalwart savage, painted for war, stole through
the streets toward the water gate, attended by Major Glad-

. L wyn.

The soldiers on duty. were with difficulty restrained from
killing him, so perfect was his disguise. At the water gate he

‘ found a canoe and pushed out, into the darkness, warned by
the Indian camp-fires not to approach too near. Once in
the current, he made no attempt to work the paddle except to
keep the head of the canoe straight, and floated down between
the. island and the camp.

‘ the wild figures leaping about the fires, and knew that the
war-dance was commenced, and that he could not choose a
better time to land. Pushing his canoe close to the bank, he
stepped ashore and had hardly gone a. dozen yards when he

‘ found himself in the midst of a strong partyof savages, whom

'V he knew to be Ojibways, by their dress and paint.

the handle of his hatchet.
' of the English ‘3"

“ Yes,” replied Gresham. “ My face is painted for war.”

“ Has my brother struck the war-post ?" demanded the In-
dian.
ready to put them to the knife?"

“ I drink their blood like water," replied Gresham.
shall die like dogs.”

Thinking that he had found a savage who was more blood~
thirsty than himself, the Indian said no more, but moved by
the side of the new-comer to the camp-tire.

“ They

mainly of the Ojibways, a wild tribe, who knew but little of
the white men, while hating them intensely. Gresham sat
down in the circle, and noticed every thing said, satisfying
himself that the Indians designed to make an attack upon the
fort at early morning. ~
Soon after, he managed to detach himself from the group,

 

and;de on until he reached the center of the town, which

E] hesitated to let him go; but, permission being given, Edward .

He heard the fiend-like yells, saw ‘

_ “.Who is this “r” said the foremost man, laying a hand upon,
“ Do you come to drink the blood ’

“Does he hate these white English dogs, and is he‘ =

Luckily for him, L
there were few Wyano'ots or Ottawas in this group, composed '

. w meawith Indians, moving. restlessiyntofland fro,leagmf.
 tin,- morning., But, few Frenchmen were" in the m“ .

    
   
   
  
  
    
   
   
 
 
 
 
    
    
     

m LIGHTNING.

 «  and among these he recogmzed‘ Entienne Barbier, who WM
t._ Italkin'g earnestly with Pontiac by a fire.
‘ “ Aha, my lad,” thought Gresham.
seems.”

,' - Nothing but the most complete impudence could have sus-
t tainctl Edward Gresham in the scenes through which he was

- forced to pass. He saw here and there the hotly of one of
the English residents, lying in a ghastly heap, scalped and

I gory. Some of the houses were in ruins, and even the rush

I ~ deuces of the French were closely shut, for they did not. like

' their red friends :nty too well.

' Edward walked coolly up and down, and at last approach-

, ,ed the fire, near which Pontiac and the Frenchman stood,

' |_ 1' and edging close to them heard enough of their conversation
’ to convince him that. Barbier was a traitor, and had urged on

‘ -' the Indians to this outbreak. His fingers itch'ed to be at the
traitor's throat, and perhaps something in his attitude showed
it, for Pontiac, turning his head, saw him, and making a sig-
' nal to the Frenchman to remain where he was, he quietly ap-

“ You are in this, it

, arm.
“ What, tribe, my brother ?” he said, in a questioning tdne.
_, “ Ojibway,” replied Edward. imitating the amount dialect
_ ti 1 of the tribe he intended to represent. He had taken the pre-
cmll'lon. upon leaving the fort, to wear the moccasins of that
tribe, with their totem worked in beads upon the tup.
“ My brother has a brave look," said Pontiac, “ anti it is
' “range that so great a Warrior should not sit in the councils
 ‘ r , of his nation. Let him come with me to the camp of the
Ojibways, and his chief shall speak for him. Pontiac must he
certain that he has no traitors in his camp."
“It is well,” replied Edward, but it was far from well i I
hmOpinion. He began to fear that he had got himself into
, "- a "up, and quickly revolved in his mind some way of es-
’ ’ ‘ 0398- Pontiac waited quietly until Edward signed to him .to
. * km the way, and then followed him through the street.

- r

‘fmid blow was struck, and Pentiac lay senseless on the

.‘

proached the disguised scout and laid his hand upon his naked

. ' once out of the circle of the camp-fire he took a. quick step,

 Martinglutn omh' bod Edward Grumman”
' saute; psi-37"  

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mam

C H A P T E R X .
WILD mnon’s moons.

PONTIAC bounded to his feet, fierce and raging, and his ,
terrible war-cry rung out with startling distinctness, warning‘
,the braves to be on the alert and calling several of his own
hand to hisside. A few hurried words sent them scsmper'
ing through the village, in hot pursuit of the man who had,
dared to insult their great chief, while he joined in the
chase, wild with anger, his fiery eyes half-starting from his.
head. ‘
Edward heard them on all sides of him, challenging every '
» passing Indian, and he feared that he was in the toils. but the
brave man did not despair. He leaped over the fence which,
led to the house of St. Aubin, and hurried up, to to the door,
while the clamor of the pursuing Indians grew fierce all about r
7 ,him. There was no time to hesitute, and throwing open the
door, he run in, closing it behind him. As he did so, he was
conscious that the room was dimly lighted, and seated close to
the hearth, hound hand and foot, was St. Auhin, moodily look-
ing into the tiumes. He cast a hurried glance at the intruder,’
*and then a look of sullen rage crossed his face.

“ You shall suffer for this, .dogs of Indians," he cried,
fiercely. " Wait until Pontiac knows how I have been treated.
Give me back my daughter, youred fiend; give her back t
_ me." ,

v 9‘ Rose i" cried Edward. “Oh, my Godl do not tell me
that she is lost!" '
“ Who are you ‘2" cried the trader.
and in this disguise ?”
t I “ No other; speak to me, tell me what you

,ing that you had lost Rose.” - . V.

‘1' Oh, my darling, my 'benutiful flower! Better have her
dead than in the hands of this murderous band. This after it

 

“ Edward Gresham,

mean by say.

hoop,me the attack was made, three Indium rushed in upon .. .;

may-[bound end gagged rue, and carried her ‘twaytpnfl 
;l fl) "7,  ,  s _ ‘ 

 

 

 
  

m LIGHTNING.

   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     
      

, 1 vvriver. The leader was the chief who walked by the side
 yr of Pontiac when they made their treacherous visit to the
* 4 ,,t fort.”
, “ Which way did they go ?”
_‘ ,r “ Through the back door and out by the orchard gates.
,3 a , Edward Gresham, as you love my daughter save her from these
 ' treacherous hounds ” ’
,, Edward cut the cords which bound the trader to‘the chair,
1 A, r' and just then the clamor grew fierce about the house. I
' ' , “ What isthis ?” said the trader.
“ I am pursued by the Indians. Hide me, if you value the
life of your daughter.” '
.“ This way,", replied St. Aubin, leading the way into the
,. , cellar. “ I will save you.”
s ; ' ' He caught up a burning brand ’to light the way and de-
 ’ ~ scended rapidly. St. Atubin detached a stone or two from
. , the rough wall of the cellar and showed a wide cavity behind,
’~ capable of hiding half a dozen persons. \
,1 “ That was built to guard against Indian surprises of this
kind," he said. “ You will go in, and remain quiet until I
call for you.”
 ,1 He replaced the stone and hurried back into the kitchen,
_'_, ‘ for the savages were already clamoring at the floor, and just
‘ ' I r asvhe closed the cellar they were thrown open, and Pontiac
strode in, his face illuminated by the fires of passion, while
( Ifierce faces appeared at the doorways.
, I “Where is the dog who dared insult the great Pontiac i"
. ,. he cried, angrily.
-  “ What do you mean, chief ?” replied St. Aubin. " If you
" - leek my life, take it, for it is in your hands."
“ No,” replied Pontiac. “ I do not seek your life. I am the
lame French Pontiac who fought for Frenchman in the old
,  Wars when the Ojibways and Kioways would have destroyed
~17 5 7 them. But, a man insulted Pontiac and struck him to the
i I earth. and I have tracked him here.” V ' , I
“How should I know any thing of this, Pontiac 1" replied ;
‘ " Bfi‘flufiin; “Thiweienough sorrow not to notice every In» "
 Ibo nine yelping throughrthe street." ;.
- 59? m:my«bgather’edoenopen2 Perhaps he ran in M0.» s: «

 

  

 
   
  
   
    
  
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
   
 
 
 
 
   
   
      
   
     

mom’smom / W1:

A,“ ‘ _‘ I.

“ Then let Pontiac search for him,” said St. .Aubint “ Bid j‘ ‘
. your warriors stand at the doors, to see that he does not run I V ‘ 
out, and I will lend you." '

Pontiac bowed his head, and at a low, guttnral order from , - 
'n him the braves drew back, and, lighting a lamp, St. Aubin ' ‘ 
led the way into the cellar. He went down with as great a '
clatter as possible, and Edward, taking the hint, lay quiet,
scarcely breathing for fear the keen sense of hearing of the
Indian might detect him. The chief cast a searching glance‘ ‘
about the room, satisfied himself that the man he sought was
not there, and St. Aubin led the way to the upper part of the
house. They searched with like success, of course, and the
face of Pontiac began to take on a. crestfallen look.

“ My brother was right,” he said. “ The man who insulted
Pontiac is not here, but he shall be found, if he hides in the
lowest depths of the earth. Where is Bright Star, whom the
Indians love ?”

“ You have made loud professions of regard for me, Pony
tiac, and now I want you to make them good. This very day
some of your men have stolen my daughter and carried her
away.” ‘ t

“ My brother can not lie, and yet is it possible that Part
tiac's men have done this? Give me their names, and! I will i
punish them." i

“ I do not know their names, but the leader was the chief

who walked by your side when you went to the fort." ' l l »;
Pontiac gave utterance to an angry exclamation, and his 1 H.‘
fingers fiercely clutched the handle of his hatchet. ‘ ‘ x ‘ '-
“ Do you tell me that this man has dared to do this 1’" - " ' ‘°

“ He has.”

“ Then I tell you that she shall, be restored to you, or he
shull die. _ Pontiac does not lie when he says that his heart is  t,
. warm toward the good trader and Bright Star. Tell me about ' 
| it." ‘ —

St. Anhin told the whole story, and was interrupted now
and then by a fierce ejaculation from’tlle chief. When the 
, W trader had finished, Pontiac repeated his promise to save

‘ ‘~'Rose. and strode hastily away. , l ‘ , , ,7
a ‘ “Where is the Red Lightning now ‘2” he cried,,addreestug ,,   
l   of the men: ,. The follow could notrflhytdltfqgm a 

 

1,,
\I,

   

‘45,;

  

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; 4-,”- 'l
v ‘7‘ mm mama.

‘) ‘ they steia was heard, and the chief who had entered Detroit

by his side, and was accused of stealing Rose away, strode.

hastily up, looking dust-worn and weary, but with a certain
light of elation in his eyes. 7

“"I have brought good news, sachem,” he said.
have met. me who have made my heart glad.”

“ Come with me,” replied Pontiac.

The chief followed him without :1 word, and they reached
it secluded spot beside the river.

“What is your news?” demanded Pontiac, speaking in
NFrench, to which the other replied in the some language.

' “ It could not he better. Michiliumvkinnc has f’rlllbnfilnd
I .before this Presque Isle is'in our hands."

“ Good,” said Pontiac. “ And now hear me speak. When
we went out upon the war-path together, I told you that I
could not strike against Frenchmen. Is it not so i”

“ 0! course; that was the agreement.”

“ Every English dog was (loomed, but not a hair of a
French head was to fall."

“ That is true."

“ Then what mean you, Red Lightning ?—how did you dare
to strike at the good trader and the Bright Star 2"

‘ 'Red Lightning started and looked fixedly ut Pontiac.

“ What have I to do with this ?"

“ Do not come to Pontiac with a forked tongue, RedLight-
nlng. You came to the house of the good trader; you tied
him like a dog, and stopped his mouth. The good trader is
my friend, and his child is my friend, and I have said that
no harm shall come to them. Where is the Bright Star 1'"

v“ Pontinc, it is nothing to you. The Bright Star is in my

' hands, and I will keep’her.” ‘
“ lln l" _ v
“ I joined you to avenge myself upon the English, who
drove done me wrong, but I made no promise to give up my
OWn private revenges; neither will I."
"Do you dare oppose yourself to Pontiac?

“ Runners

LOok about

 you and consider well, Red Lightning. At a' word from me, ’9.

:.:‘h°.flre of death will sweep through the village and none shall

. / ‘ v

 ’ g 139"  not one.”

o

/

     
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
   
  

 

        
   

   
 
    
  
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
       
       
     
     

A! VAHANG.

* and has struck at them, for they are his enemies, but he still
i loves his friends. Give back the Bright Star to her father."

: “ I will not do it.”

-7 “ Then you make an enemy of ,Pontiac, for I have promised
F that I Would save her.”
«‘ “ Who told you that I took‘her away ‘3”

L_ _ “ The good trader."

‘ “ A thousand curses on his head! Look you, chief : WI

.  have no right to quarrel, for we have embarked together in

the great cause of sweeping these English (logs from the laud.
‘ I will do no Wrong to the Bright Star, as you call Rose St.
Auhin, for I will make her my true wife as soon as I can/find
' a priest to do the work."
“ Does my brother speak the truth 1’”

quarrel until our work is done in Detroit. The least thing
will overthrow our plans, and we can not afford to be at
V variance. I give you my word not to do her a wrong, but
only to keep her safely until Detroit shall fall.”
‘ i “ Give her to me to keep.”
, “ I will not do that, chief. I want her near me while the
fight goes on, to win her to my plans, and I can not give her
up."
“ What if I call my warriors and take you? The Indians
9 ' have many ways to drag the secrets from an evil heart."

I will not give up the secret of her hiding-place, even to
i. on." I

7 '- ' “ Let it be as you say,” said Pontiac, suddenly. “ Keep
, t.‘ the Bright Star safe, and do her no harm, for as surely as you
. a do, I will kill you with my hand."

' “ You have my promise,” replied the other. “ 1—”

I L “ Have you seen my Willie anywhere 1’," said a clear, sweet
5‘- voice. “ I am looking for him everywhere, and can not find
‘IZ mm» ,

1 Both turned quickly, and by the light of the moon riding
 high in the heaven, saw the unfortunate victim of men‘scrime,
"3-‘Medge Sinclair, standing close to them and looking fixedly

 

/

“ No, Pontiac dare not do wrong. He hates the English, »

“ Upon my honor. Leave the girl with me, and let us not '

“ You can not frighten me, Pontiac. I swear to you that,

’V fawn mm she was better dressed: then when we new hot ' ’ I

   

 

     
 

6‘4

’ “ You, you! he! he! he!

no LXGHTRHG.

lutyfor the kind-hearted Rose had taken from her own word-
robe to dress her. The dark, futhomless eyes showed no fear.

. and Pontiac, who knew her well and the cause of her afflic-

tion, looked sadly and pityingly upon her, although one of
the accursed race.

9‘ The wonnm of the woods has a sad life," he Said. “ Let
her go to the shelter of a lodge. lest some one who does not

‘ know her should do her a wrong.”

“ 03'!" shouted Red Lightning, looking wildly at her. “ Do
not turn your accusing eyes upon me, for I can not hear
them." \

Madge turned upon him with the quickness of a panther,
her eyes flushing fire.

der 9. red skin? Your hands were redder once l"
“ Take her away or I shall do her a mischief,” said Red
_nghtnlng, hoarsely, making frantic signals. “ The eyes ,0:
the witch burn into my very soul."

“ Tell me where to find my Willie. No one knows better ‘

than you."

V“ I can not.” '
“ Will you die with a lie in your mouth? You know

' where he is, and must give him up to me."

She advanced upon him with that wild look in her eyes,

and he retreated step by step, with his fascinated eyes fixed'

upon her face, the face of the injured wife of Willie Sin-
clair.
“ All the fiends of the pit could not fright me half so much.

. .. ,
Pontiac. come between us, or I shall strike her.’

“ Lift no lumd ugztinst the Woman of the Woods, for the ‘

Manitou has lnid his hand heavily upon her. Let Pontiac
show you to a lodge where you will be safe.”
“ No, no, nol llow shall 1 ever find Willie if he escapes?

Tell me wht-r'e he is, and at once 1"

Pontiac leid his hand upon her arm, but she shook him .’

Dfi' angrily,

“ Tell me quickly 1"

“ I know nothing 0! your husband, witch l
was it for this creature that I lost my soul ?”
“Showmvhmhem” 7 , ., 

Have I found you at last un- V

Guile-um! :-

 

 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

   

 
 
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
   
  
   
    
  
    
   
   
        
     
   
  

5. A snow. mun-mm. 77

y " I tell you I shall strike her, Pontiac," cried Red Light?
"  hing, still retreating, “ if you do not take her away.”

‘f .x; “ Come, peer child; an Indian never wrongs one who talks

5 to the spirits of the rocks and trees.” ' ‘ ,5
‘3 K She shook off his hand again, and advanced hasfily. , A \s‘
't I, “ Tell me i” ’ ' 

Red Lightning struck at her with his clenched hand, but
a in an instant, the dagger with which Willie Sinclair‘s life
tr ,wus taken flashed in the air. She struck full and true at his ’
V unguarded breast. What could save him now i

l‘, l
1‘ " ——————- 4‘
d . 
"« CHAPTER XI. . t
31- ‘ 'mn woon CAMP. "_
W1! left Edward Gresham lying hidden in the depths of e
r. the cellar waiting for [the Indians to leave the house. Half [V l
w an hour passed; then St. Aubin came down, removed the ’ 
be stones and set him at liberty, telling him the promise of the a 5
' ' ‘ chief. .f
“Ly “Then you can depend upon his word," said Edward. v ‘I
'1' I “ I know Pontiac and something of his plans and they do not 
h ,inclnde evil against the French. It is only we “'llu have 1 "

. the blood of old England in our veins who have any thing
 four from him. I must get back to the fort, for nothing 
_ can be done to-night. Look out and tell me whether any In- » 'm
.. diens a’re lurking near.” '
g St. Aubin peepetl out cautiously and announced the coast
5’ ‘clear, and after reiterating his promise to save Rose at any
.' hazard, the young man pushed open the demand went out,
“timing at once t0ward the river. In the present state of tho
‘ Camp it was impossible to pass through it, and he preferred
‘AO take his chance of finding a canoe and by that means ‘
P, ,“tt‘éuohlng the water gate. He found a' canoe readily, reached
,fth‘e'gn‘te, and was admitted, when he 'at once went to the 
 made his more, also 'announcing the capturedf, 

be
no

in

 

  

l

     
 

 

t I 70 ' ' m mans-ante.

’ ‘1. the front door, turning the key upon the inside as he closed

>1» /

I ' Seance. What. reason they had to hate him he did not yet

' so much alike that nothing could be told concerning their

'_\

I ', you “lays” the result. You werewarned but you would

  
    
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
   
     
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
      
    
 

 
 

9‘ Take courage, my brave fellow,” said Gladwyn. “ Fiend:
as they are, I hardly think they dare make enemies of the
French settlers by doing her an injury, as she is such a favo-
rite everywhere. Pontiac, after giving his promise would
not permit it to be done." ‘

“You are right, no doubt,” said Edward sadly; “ and yet,
it drives me almost mad to think how utterly helpless I am
to aid the woman I love.”

“ I know it, my dear lad, but bear it like a man. And
'DOW, good-night, for I must to the ramparts, to make ready
for the assault." '-

Edward went slowly and sadly to his house, and unlocked

5“”. .<, '

9/4.

ryv

. it again. He passed through into the kitchen, tried the lock
of the door to see that it was fast, and turned to a cupboard
to find a light, when a blanket was thrown suddenly over his ya
head. hampering his arms and mufiling his face so that it was

. impossible to make an outcry. ' ’ -

“ Silence," hissed a voice close to his ear, “ or I will f
drive a knife into your heart. Find a light, number three.” ' i.
The lamp was found and lighted, and then the rumans *
wno had siezed him turned him over and tied his hands and ‘-"

. feet securely, while another thrust a gag into his mouth. '

“ We have him fast," said one of the three. “ Brothers,
it s¢ema foolish to waste time and risk danger by taking. _
this man outside, but the orders of the Grand Commander ‘
must be obeyed."
v Edward signified a desire to speak, but he was stemly or- ‘
dared to keep quiet. He saw at a glance that he was in the
hands of the dread brotherhood known as the Circle of Ven-

 

know. but, that they did hate him there could he no doubt.
These men were all masked and dressed in black clothing.

figures.
“You have defied the Circle of Vengeance,” said'the one -
[WM a[themed to be the leader, in excellent French, “and

  

. .I-lhtcato.‘4he- cello: reason,_and tor your stubborn so. '. 
‘Wlmfiotodta”.. H x» ~   r-

x
:”

   
 

 

G BLBBED.

Edward could make no answer, but he looked intently at
the speaker, as he stood above him.

“ It would doubtless be a pleasure to you to know how
you were taken. We will inform you that we took out a
window sash and got in, and replaced the sash after it. We
have had to wait some time, but the time passed pleasantly,
as you keep good wine in your cupboard.”

The man appeared to like’ the sound of his own voice, for
he went on, regardless of the fact that his prisoner could not
answer him.

“ You did a bad thing when you forced us to justify our
erring brother, the other night. He was a faithful member
until you led him astray.”

“ Hush,” said another of the men ; “ how long do you in
tend to stand there and preach? Let us get to work.”

“ You appear to think you are. leader here, Antoine."

“ Take care; Number Three 1"

“ Pam! Unlock the door and let us get away, for, as we
intend to justify him, it makes no difference if he does know ,
us."

Edward Gresham did know them. A man who had been
taught to make use of every clue, to remember every thing, ‘ ’
would not long be at a loss in placing the talkative French-
man, and he knew that this was Claude Benoit, a comrade of
Entienne Barbier. The men hurriedly enveloped the victim
in a blanket, and passed through the kitchen door, when one
of them went ahead to see that all was right. llis report was
favorable, andathey hurried on to the next house, which they
entered just before the guard relief passed on its way to the . ,
different posts. They carried the bound man into the Cellar, , V ‘
and laid him down, blindfolding him completely, while he
,heard the creaking of a door upon' its hinges and he was
again lifted, and carried through a dump passage for some
distance. Then he was carried up some steps, and came into
the open air, and the ripple of running water convinced him , '
that he was near the river. .

 “ Put him into the canoe,” whispered Claude. “ Get in, you

up two; I’ll take the paddle." ’ ‘ ‘ _

.,- I -- 1 He was laid in a canoe, and was soon gliding‘r‘apidlynlong 7
 '»1‘br‘iti'aam&how far heeould not alight he knew that‘flmy

.. \ 

l

.1.

/

 

     
 

RED LIGHTNING.

had some way of getting out of the fort. unknown to him; “
For an hour the canoe glided swiftly on, and then he felt the  3m
prow grate upon the sand, and Claude gave a signal whistle. '

4 ma
It was answered at once, and a number of men joined them :. r l
M: upon the bank. ' fel
.' “ Have you trapped the fox '3" W
l 9 “ Of course; my plan could not fail.” " b12
‘ “Eh him! You have a, wonderful opinion of yourself, 
I . Monsieur le Babbler. Never mind, we have him at last, and W
that is enough for us. Are you going back at cnce ?” m
“ We must; if it was known that we had left the fort we I
f might be suspected, you know.” I m
,_ “ Bon soir, then ; take care of yourselves." ' a]
r  ~ Edward heard the canoe push oil‘, and then the bonds upon
 his feet were out. and he was hurried along over a rough forest - g
I path for over half an hour. At the end of that time he was c
', ,1 I 'conscious that merry voices were ringing out ahead, and, (li- ¢
if - ~ , ' rectly after, his hands were unloosed, aml the bundaga \ (
f i ' taken from his eyes. A strange sight greeted his astonished
‘ t ' gaze. ]
,l ‘ _ , He was in an irregular opening in the forest, completely I
1., ',  hemmed in by forest trees. About thirty men were in the 

lnelosed space, seated about their fires, drinking, playing at I
cards and singing songs. They were all dressed in the black I
uniform of the Circle of Vengeance, and closely masked, and
the [teen eyes of the Trailer roved from side to side, trying to
make out who among his masked enemies he could recognize,
A great shout greeted his appearance ; cards and dice were
thrown aside, and all stood up to look at him.
“ Whom have we now l” cried a loud voice.
‘fOne of the doomed,” replied the man who led Edward. ,
. I,  _ “ Has he been warned ?" ‘ ~
y I, ‘ 1,, “ He has been warned thrice.”
‘r , l “‘ Would he not heed the warning ?"
u . I “ He has defied, the Great Brotherhood." . ,, a .
r “ It is well; his name is written: in 117911., ,Bflfifihmll, for!“
411.3 mystic circle“:   ,-v ,, " ..  ..i . t‘  tw‘i'
' ~ ,v “  e men'linked‘th‘eir hands togethefiand; IWWLKPVQW°
'7’ ail-‘lfllffib‘mtthelmezeblerflww  m
  swam» Lemapsmem awsmmk- -'

I

t

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H, ”.. . , “»,r

 

    
   
   
  
 
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
    

, . BRING IN THE OTHER. " '
um. v I > r
n"  Suddenly the circle parted, and the figure of the Grand Com- 
“10' ~ mandant appeared, facing the prisoner.

‘em 7 ’ “ What mummery is this?” demanded Edward. “ My dear ' « 
follows, a luau who has stood at the stake while a village of
Wyandots danced about him, is not likely to be frightened by

black looks and black clothes." ‘ , L I
em L “Silence, scotl'er i“ cried the Grand Commandant. “ When
“‘1 ' you defy the Great Brotherhood, you know not what you
_ do."
W°  ' "‘ Bahl What do I care for your formulas? If you mean ‘

to do any thing with me, set about it as quickly as you can,
and the quicker you do it the better I shall like it."

m t “ You will not think so when the Brotherhood begin the _

[at torture. An Indian band can give pain to the body, but we

33 can do better than that. We can make you feel the tortures

1‘ ' of the damned in body and mind. And, to begin; bring in {V
‘m x, ' ,V the other!” \

d l . There was a movement in the circle and a party appeared, ' '

leading in their midst Rose St. Aubin, very pale, but unalter-

y  ably-fixed in purpose. ‘

e r “ Rose, my poor girl, my pale darling,” moaned Edward,

1: , “ are you here I”

i " r “ Oh, Edward, have you, too, fallen into the hands of these I ‘

* v‘illains ?" . . v
’ “ Good words, mistress, if you please,” said the Grand Oom-

'- 7 mandant. “ I am not a man to hear insult offered to the Bro-
' therhood. Look upon her, Edward Gresham. You are
_ ‘ young, and life is very pleasant, and you have laid out for V I
» yourself a future in which this girl forms a part. I love her ‘ ,gj
betler than you do, but there are certain conditions upon - ’
which I will give her up to you.” a
“ You mock me. sir. If you love her as you say, there are
r, , I no conditions under which you would give her up.”
\ “ There are."
‘ “Name them." ,
“'You are in the confidence of the English major, Glad.
Wyn ?”
".‘I am proud to say that I am, and to have earned his good I
, .fiin‘lon is something to be * proud of, for he is a noble r
 ’9' \A , _ I'>’/ I ,s‘.'

 
       
 

 

 
       
   
   
  
 

  

no name.

 

“V”! well; you have great influence with the scouts,
‘ voyageurs and trappers in Detroit 1’” '
f}. - ' . “ I have." '
“ Without them, Gladwyn could not sustain a combined as-
 , > aault for an hour ?”
_ ‘ ’7 “ I do not say whether he could or not, but we will admit
{I  y the supposition.” -
r’ ' “ I earnestly desire that Detroit shall speedily fall, and
* 4 ‘ have been working for this object since the English occu-
pancy. Let me ask you another question. Are these scouts,
_ ‘-etc., favorable to the English ?”
' “If you had come into the fort when Pontiac made his
' , treacherous visit, you would not have asked the question."
 'v “ But there are many in Detroit who do not love the En-
. " glish."
“Perhaps; I do not know. But all this is useless; I do
7 not intend to give you the information you desire."

I “ Perhaps I can make it worth your while, sir." ‘ '

\ r ‘1 The eyes of Gresham began to blaze, but he said no-
, r. thing.

' ‘fI have said that there are conditions by which you can
not only be free in an hour’s time, but Rose St. Aubin shall
also be set at liberty. I love her dearly, and would not give
up her love for any other price. but the strength and glory of
France is more to me than the love of any woman can ever
‘be. Think before you refuse my offer, and by it doom her to
a fate which would make the stoutest man tremble.”  ,

a “ Let her go away, wretch. Why do you keep her here to

V , torture her? We can tqu without having her standing

 ~ \ by.»

“ I would rather stay, clear Edwnrt ,” said Rose.

_ “ Go on, sir,” said Edward.

r “ This is my plan. You will return to the fort and at once
begin your work among the hunters and scouts, to win them
I I > over to our side. Say to them that the service of the king ’
I _' I), . of France pays better than that of England, and we will do \
g. any thing for them when the post is again in our hands.”
a " ‘ “ Go on." ‘
I, - ' “ Whel: you have won them over, signal the factjrom' the 5

,“119’01 file {on byrwalkingv upon the eastern battlement.with

x. ,_ ‘ l t  . V r , —..

 

 
            

A_—.-...

 

 

  

A DAREG EXPLOIT.

  

s white handkerchief tied upon your hat. Do this, and not,
only shall Rose be yours, but you shall have a captain’s com- '
mission in the French service.” ‘

“Any thing more?"

“ When you are ready, give us the signal, and wait until
we answer it. Then at night open the sully-port, and we
shad be ready to enter, and then woe to Detroit."

" Is that all ?"

“ Yes; your answer."

The young scout sprung to his feet, and dealt the tempter
such a blow that he rolled in the dust at his feet, the blood
starting from mouth and nostrils under the heavy stroke. r

“ Take that for offering an unprovoked insult to an English- .
man born, you vile renegade!" he shouted. '

Rose uttered a faint cry of alarm, although she could not:
but exult in the giluitllt conduct of her lover, who, by that"
blow delivered in the midst of enemies, proved himself a gal-
lant man, and true to his country and flag. The Grand Com-
mandant lay stunned and dizzy upon the earth, while a dozen‘
of his men mu to raise him, and a threatening crowd sur-
rounded Edward. Seizing a heavy half-consumed brand from
the camp-fire, he flung himself desperately upon them. Right
and left, they went down under his crushingr strokes; then,
stooping suddenly, he caught a loaded pistol from the man he.
had knocked down first, and grasping the Grand Comman-
dant by the collar, dragged him to his feet. with the pistol at _
his ear. '

“ Move a step, stir a finger. and you are dead 1" he hissed.
.“Back, all of you, and do not dare to lift a weapon, for, as
surely as you do, the man I hold is dead. Rose, come to my.
side; I will protect you, and they dare not fire l"

 
 
  

  

    
  
 
   
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
 
        
     

CH AFTER XII.
THE DEATH-ARROW.

T83 disappearance of Edward Gresham from Detroit was
only known when, at four o’clock, one of his sergeants came
, to call him to the wall, in anticipation of the attack of
‘7  q the Indians. They found the house open, the room in
 I, disorder, and the evidences of a struggle everywhere ap-
 'l parent. Knowing him so well, Major Gladwyn was certain
1 matsome calamity had befallen him. The two previous as-
‘-, Ital/31m upon him was proof that he was the object of hate on

,‘he part of the terrible hand known as the Circle of Ven-
. Seance, whatever that might be.
Gladwyn had been upon the walls all night. and as the first
_ gray light of the morning began to show itself, "he could see
"“ 'th‘e dusky figures of the warriors moving about in the gloom,
 preparing for the‘ work. The men came silently to their
3  quarters without heat of drum, for they knew that on the first
ptruggle their: fate depended.
 V_ The‘canno'n were in position, loaded to the muzzle, some
. with grape and canister, and others with nails, scraps of iron
 , and the like. No man knew better than Gladwyn the whole-
' . 50,1116 dread which the savages have of the “ big guns.”
‘ Suddenly, as all Indian attacks do. the assault was com.
menced. A furious yell announced the onset, and the bullets

began to patter like rain against the stockade, while the wo-
.,' fr ~men and children sought safety in cellars from the leaden
. « Storm. The voyageurs and hunters gave back an answari’ng
t_‘“'_’:|h911t, not less loud and fierce than that of the assailants as
_ they sprung to the loop-holes. The Indians were all about
7 ' finial“, firing rapidly, some hidden /hy trees and low ridges,
' -:"'_lf?me dancing wildly about, keeping in continual motion to
,i V 3‘33“ £119 aim of the hunters. But, the deadly rifles of the
V“ .. 5%“me had been used to strike the buck upon the leap,

High.“ -_',r 

      
         
   
 

 

t»: ‘.

find-many a'savage went down.

/

 

 ’  his guns where the appoaxed thick- ’.

5',

I. 11.

 

 

man WAS MAME.

at, and the grape and canister went searching through the
thickets, driving the painted demons from place to place. _
But, in spite of this, they returned to the assault, and woe to
the man who dared show his head above the ramparts, for he
was made the mark for a score of bullets. Every loop-hole
was watched. The glitter of a button, or the cold gleam of
steel, brought the hissing balls about the person of the bearer,
but no assault was made. Pontiac, knowing the temper of\
his men, dared not order them to make a regular assault upon
the fortifications. His plan was rather to harass the enemy,
by a long-continued siege, to cut off their supplies, to over-
. throw in detail every force sent to their aid, and ultimately
to force them to surrender.

 

'Where was Madge Sinclair? I

We left her with her hand suspended over the breast of
Red Lightning, the destroyer of her husband, for it is no part
of our plan to conceal the fact that the intuition of the mad
woman was right. She struck, and the blade pierced a little
way into the clothing of the chief, and shivered into fragments
upon a steel cnrslet underneath. The man laughed fiercely,
and raised his hand to strike her down, but Pontiac again in-
terposed. _

“ Go your ways, Red Lightning, and ask nothing from
Pontiac.
the Bright Star I will seek you out and kill you; go 1"

Red Lightning only replied by a derisive gesture, and 

turned away, leaving the chief and Madge together. But, all .
the chief's powers of persuasion would not prevail upon her \
to stay; she broke away from him and pursued the footsteps
of the disguised chief. She saw him take a canoe and cross

the stream, and, with the cunning of the crazed brain she. I ‘ i

took another and followed him.
Red Lightning landed at last, and still she followed, creep-
ing on with cautious tread. .
Through the traekless forest, thinking only of her quest,
she pursued her tireless course, and not ad Indian ou the war- ‘Lv

trail could have vied with her in lightness of tread. At last ,  '
the camp-fires of the Circle of Vengeance gleamed before  . ’

Lying prostrate among the loans, she wstched. until 

But, bear this well in mind ; if a wrong is done to' ’ t. a

    
    

   
  
  
   
    
   
  
 
    
  
 
   
 

/

   
 
 
 
 
   
 

/

 

 

     
 

    
  

   
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
  
 
  
     
     
   
       
     

 

' .Rose St. Aubin sitting by a fire, in tears, listening to the mut-

'  I dared he strike a man like me!

RED LIGHTNING.

tared speech of Red Lightning, who was seated by her side,
evidently against her will. -

Still the madwoman kept her place. Her impulse was to

‘ 1 advance, and demand from her wrong-er the set-rt-t she sought,

but she kept it down, and remained silent, watching.

Edward‘ Gresham was brought into the camp, amid the I

"murmuring of the circle, and she could hardly restrain a cry
of, delight when the Grand Commandant went down under the
stalwart arm of the Trailer.

She saw him, strong and tall, in his young manhood stand-
ing alone, opposed to thirty enemies, and with surperhuman
valor hold them all at bay. The fray terrified her, and yet
it had a. wonderful interest.
whirled in air and alighted upon the heads of the brethren.

‘ A moment after she saw him stand upright, a pistol in his

hand, and the chief trembling at his side.
Would he slay him, and with him the secret she sought?

The madwoman at once flung off all disguise, and was about '
to throw herself into the circle, when she saw the Grand ’

Commandant slip suddenly under the arm of his enemy, grasp-
ing his wrist, and holding it high above his head. Before
Edward could wrench his hand free. a score of his enemies
were upon him, and he was thrown to the earth, while the
Frenchmen struck and mauled him, helpless as he was. '

' “ Hands ofl‘ l" roared the Commandant. “ Death, men,
Would you kill him before I have my revenge?"
' “ Oh cowards cowards I" cried Rose. “ Twenty against
one man l I am ashamed to think that you are my country-
men.” ’

The men dropped the now, inscnsible form of Edward

" to the earth, and Rose mn forward and raised his bleeding

head upon her knee, while the masked leader looked coldly

-‘ .on.

“He brought it on himself, my lady," he said.
Yet I would not have him
Chin at present. Pierre, bring me a gourd‘ful of water, and

7 do“. (loss. 'that you are. stand back»! If you have killed him,
j  'Wfihflu laser for it, I swear to you i" i .,I
" “'<’r;'msm~bmght 'the‘ water and, the rest slunk away,

1

She held her breath as the club

 
      

A's—adfld

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u-

 

“ How

'<\’H .t

  

 

\.

 r or,‘

.' thile Rose took the gourd and began to wash the blood from

her lover‘s face. He was badly cut, and stunned by the
blows he had received, but the cool splashing of that soft
hand revived him, and his eyes opened, although he was still
too faint and giddy to rise. , ,‘ ,

“ I tried l0 save you, my darling,” he whispered, “ but they
were too many for me.”

“Hush,” she said. “ Do not speak, as you value your
life." v

love passages between you two or I shall finish the work‘my
friends have begun. Are you better, you dog 1'”

Edward made no answer, save by a look, but the scoundrel,

understood him and hit his lip until the blood came.

“ You'defy me, then ?”

“Yes; I have little mercy to expect at your hands, and I
scorn you. 1 am in your power, and you can kill me if you
will, but you are a coward—[ache] do you understand."

“I will have your life for that word. Come away from
him, Rose, or by this light I will drag you away. Rise, I say
leave him i”

“ It will be better, Rose," said Edward, sadly. “I can do
no more, and we must bear this sorrow as well as we can.

But. remember, whether I live or die, that I am true to you

my love.”
“And I will never be false,” cried Rose. ‘ “ Here, on my
knees beside you, I promise never to marry any man save

' you. And if you are slain, I will die as your unwedded

bride."

With a fiendish cry, the rnffian seizcd'her by the wrist

and dragged her to her fevt. She caught up the pistol which

Edward had dropped and would have used it, but he twisted , ‘

her arm until she was forced to drop it from sheer pain.
," Unmunly scoundrel l" moaned the Trailer.
lie useless hefe ?"
Rose struggled desperately, but he Called two of his men

. and put her in their charge, and she was carried away call;

* in; vainly for help. By the Frenchman's orders, they laid
3. . , the untortunate man upon the earth, with a rope upon each
_“tltcbondwrist.anddrew thecordleotantthatemml_ 

 

“ What are You saying ?“ demanded the Frenchman. " “ No 

“Why do I 1,

   

  
 
      
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
     
     
       

 
 

mud momma.

 ‘  mu strained. He was then fastened to a tree. The poet-
" Cflon was maddening, but the torture of his body was nothing
‘ to the agony of his soul. He lay silent, his eyes blazing with
fury, but his tongue was dumb.
The weary night passed at length, and the bound man ‘ "r
w» I was released long enough to eat a little, and then was tied
‘33:" down again. Rose came out of the hush hut in which she
,.‘- . had passed the night, and would have released him, but one
of the men dragged her away. ‘ \
“ No, no, my lady; that is against my orders.”
, - , ,“ Take your hands from me, instantly. Are you men or
j'rz‘ \ sflends, that you can not see that he will die it he is not re- 7 M
w; ’ -‘ leased.”
 “ Your own liberty will be taken away if you attempt it
again. madam,” said the chief, angrily coming forward.
~ ‘ “ You need not torture him. Set a guard over him but do
 ‘ not confine him in that dreadful way.” i
“I will try another plan, then,” replied Red Lightning. ‘
“ Here, men; place the prisoner in a sitting position against 1, '
’ ,the tree. You, Pierre Ernest, and Javcrt, will remain and'
- guird him. The rest will dress for the attack." '
The men hurried away and in a short time appeared again, _
w} in the dress and paint of Indians, to all outward appearance ‘
 Wyandots. Red Lightning also had donned his Indian 
costume. and leaving one more man as a guard for Rose, /
t 5‘. they marched away. All that long morning they heard , l '
'; . the boom of cannon, the rattle of musketry, and the clear" V. l
1 ring of the rifles, and knew that the assault upon Detroit had i . l
commenced. This continued for hours, and then a drop- 1‘
ping fire succeeded, principally from rifles, and Edward knew
’ - that the Indians had beemrepulsed. 
‘ ' Rose heard the firing, but not daring to approach her lover , 
she remained in suspense. The irregular fire continued
‘hronghout the day. Toward evening the excited Rose was
. ' sitting upon a. little hillock, out of sight of the rest, pleading
I _ f with lhe man who guarded her to set her free. ' '
' “Non l" he said, impatiently. “What do you take me
fer-Y" . ' .
’ ., : W9 Mt both French, sir, children of . the name you
  l r 7', ," {v- ' if

 

 

.
L 75"):

  
 
   
    
    
  
  
  
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
     
     
      
    

|_  muons. u q 
E  “But you are false to the French; you care only for the ' 
, English. Bah! I hate all who uphold these beef-eaters.” '
r “ We have eaten their salt,” said Rose, “ and ought to be
[their friends."
 “ Bah, I tell you! If the English had one throat, and my
V , knife was in my hand, how quickly would 1 drink their blood; ‘
""1 would slay—'—" ’ ’ “b
\ " The murderous words died upon his lips, and life and /
, sense went with them. Rose saw, to her utter horror, that an
'- Irrow had pierced him to the heart! Then an Indian, with
his finger on his lips enjoining silence, came forward, like
a shadow, to show himself, and then as suddenly disap-
 peered.

ww‘u-v-I

It was Ketadin, the Delaware.

CHAPTER XIII.
smemlavnxennl

g, '5‘!!! scream which rose to Rose‘s lips was hushed, as she , , l.
. staggered back from the bloody corpse of the slain man. A ’
‘ moment after there came from the thicket the cry of the wild
‘I turkey, a bird which the French hunters regarded as the most ‘
" ;.' delicate of dishes. Two of the guards rose. and, seizing their 
- . guns, leaving a single man in charge of Edward. hurried away 
” . in pursuit of the game. Rose heard the gobble of the turkey I I
' y repeated again and again, as it receded, growing fainter, until ' , {
y it died away in the distance. Ten minutes after a distant cry ' v‘ ‘
1 was heard, and she knew that either the Frenchman had fallen
or the Indian had sealed his devotion with his life, but she
. rose and walked rapidly toward the guard, and entered into _ I
" conversation with him, to call his attention from the woods  ~
 from which she expected to see Ketadin appear. But, the mo~ "
, meats passed, and the Indian did not come.
- -' Without Warning, gliding like a shadow, Ketadin stole~ v
2‘ Whyt’hietleafyeq'vor.“ Where were‘the hrothers n1 ‘thelf
We! Dead  the; 

v

 

 

  

  
 

   
   
   
 

,
 a

    

 

    

RED LIGHTNING.

row through his heart. The eye of the chief had not failed

‘him in the time when it was needed,an the men had done their 

last deed of violence. Let none pity them ; their lives had been I
as wicked as their doom was sudden and sure. ‘

He reached the circle of the glade, and peeping through the
underbrush, saw Edward lying bound to the tree, and Rose
standing so close to the guard that he dared not loose the ‘
shaft, and he Waited his chance. Soon atter, Rose moved [it
little, leaving the side of the fellow exposed, and the deadly
arrow hissed through the air, and the last guard lay bleeding
on the earth. Ketadin ran in, cutting the bonds which bound '
the young man to the tree. -

“ Ketadin, friend of the white man i" cried Edward, as he
clasped his strong hand. “ I might have known that you
would not forsahe'me, but I thought you far away." »

“ Ketadin was not blind to the danger which hung over his
white brother and the Bright Star, and he has come to help
them. Let us go.”

He had hardly spoken, when from all sides a vengeful cry,
and the painted forms of the brothers of the Circle of Venge-
ance poured in upon them. Ketadin, fighting like a hero was
borne down by numbers, and laid bleeding and senseless on I
the sod. Edward, still weak from his recent wounds, although
struggling manfully, was soon overpowered, and Rose was
hold fast in the grip of Red Lightning. ’

" It is lucky, after all. that the cowardly Wyandots refused
to nesail the works,” said Red Lightning. “ Do you know
that Indian 1’"

“ It is Ketadin, the Delaware.” replied one of the men. “I
know the dog well."

I “ I have heard of him. Death and destruction! Is Pierre,

dead t”

“ He has a long arrow between his ribs, Commandant}? re-
plied the man.

“ And where are the rest?"

“ We can see them nowhere." r
. “ Search for them, and if they are dead find the bodies an
bring them in t once.” , ,1 ’ ‘ l l ,
 The men'sc'attumd through the woods and in half an hour]. .

~  

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tiled. ‘i '
their 
been ,

the

lone _
the 

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ud

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rm: Drsomsnn rms'r. ' 91

Afierce snarl ran
through the circle, and they looked savagely at the prostrate
figure of the Indian.

“ This must end, men," said Red Lightning.
that murderous Indian and keep him safe until he recovers,

men who had fallen by Ketadin’s hand.

“ Take up

for he must have his senses when he dies. See to the Trailer
.5 well, for I am determined that. he shall share his friend’s '
fate." .

“What do you mean to do i" cried Rose.
killed your men he did it in fight.”

“ S.1ence; the men were most foully murdered, and the
murderer is doomed to death."

The silent band obeyed the orders of their superior. The
Indian was carried away and securely bound, and the same
was done with Edward. Then they dug a wide grave in the
center of the valley, in which to bury the men who had fallen, '
while the dark band, with their black robes throwu hastily
over their Indian finery, marched about the grave, chanting a

a

“ If Ketadin

.rudc funeral dirge. , r

One of the hlack-rohed brothers then advanced and said»

' the services of the Roman Catholic church above the dead,

and then the earth hid them forever. Rose looked at the
priest in wonder, for she did not know that there was one of
that class connected with the band. She knew that the or-
der of the Jesuits had long arms, and that they had done'
more than any others to build up colonies in this far land, but
she was also aware that they had endeavored to dissuade the
French from giving the Indians assistance, and had been, in
a great measure, successful.
said mass for the dead?

When all was done, Red Lightning gave Rose in charge of
one of the men, and was gone for some moments, accompanied
by the priest. When they came back the priest unmasked, -
revealing the crafty face of Entieune Borbier. ‘ y

“1 might have known you were concerned in this,” she
said. “'1 am not surprised to see you in the midst of blood

, and violence, but, how dare you so profane the rites of our
' Holy Church, Monsieur Barbier ‘t" ; , -
x _ “I have not profaned them, my dauyiter,”.rep1ied_ 1m ‘_ "

'  of flu,

 a

l/‘ ’

   

Atlvf'h ‘,\ .\ I ,, _ 11,".r 
 "1' \ I  ' A ,y ,

 

Who then was the priest who’, .

   

    
   
   
   
 
   
  
  
   
   
  
   
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
   
   
     
      
     

RED LIGHT! LNG.

, t ‘f

' .1 .. ,
' Jesuits, and here at the command of my superiors. I am hero 7  ‘
tovpersuade you to keep your promise to this young man who  '1 1

3f i‘ has fought nobly in defense of his country. He has done evil 3.
at times, it is true, but I have absolved him, and I know that "
l he loves you.”
I“ ‘9 That manl Father, if you are indeed a priest, dare you
 ,~ ,counsel 9. pure woman to unite herself for life to such a. 
‘ scoundrel ?" ~
'“ I dare; you must be his wife."
“That is the word; you must,” replied the Commandant,
“I have sworn to make you my wife before the sun goes
’ down.”
“ Murderer, do not touch me. Father Josephus, I appeal
y to you for aid against this man l" _
“ You appeal in vain. The fates have ordered that you i
shall be his wife," said the Jesuit. ‘
:_ ' “ You are perjured, priest. Remember your vows before ,
' ' God. Help, help, if there is a man in all this band! You
4  that are Frenchmen listen to me. My father has lived long
/ lin Detroit; here my mother died, and lies buried; here the
' best years of my life were spent, and I never knowingly did
' one of you a wrong. My father has befriended many of you
I doubtless, and will you stand idly by and see me maulo the ,
it, wife of this base man against my will i” f r
“ There was a movement among the brothers, and weapons '
were half drawn, when Barbier turned upon them.

 

Q V

\

r} “Brethren, you are half persuaded to give this foolish wo- ; ' .

 in 1 man sin, but think a moment. Her father‘s name is written

"  I , ' in red, and her lover‘s as well. Dare you forget your oaths, ,
and so peril the cause i" t 

1 Every hand dropped at once, although they murmured

. still.

 3.". 4 “Bring out the prisoners I” cried the Grand Comman-  V _

dent. - ,. 7
Several men started to obey, and the Indian and Edward "

 

 

I wereldrsgged’ into the circle. Both were suffering from their 
' p  injuries. and yet wore a high, exalted look, as they looked ,{ .r

' '  adesth defiantly in the face. » , ' , ' '
 . (‘1 You automate» my mammmdwud Gresham ,
. V  fer-1.8m  whom you havehounded

~_\.  I r I

  

   

 

 

 

 

   
    
 

m'roxcnn MARRIAGE.

from place to place, hunted like the beast of the forest, and
who now claims his revenge at your homo-Gaston Delisle,
the outlaw l" I

“ Ha; I suspected this! If I had known it sooner [would
have killed you at the head of your inch, long ugo."

" You did not know it, and if you had, I have such faith
in myself as to believe that I am not so ready to he killed.
You shall see me united to Rose St. Auhin in the tie which
nothing but death can sever, and then die.”

“ You will not force her to marry you against her will?
What priest is so base as to do the work ‘f”

“ Bose or not, I am the man,” said Entienne Barbier, show-
ing his face.

“You a. priest; you .9"

“ Yes; the order of Jesuits both long arms, and I am one
of the fingers.”

Edward made a bound, threw aside his enemies, and seized
Gaston Delisle by the throat. The outlaw put up his hand,
covered by a glove, and, as the two struggled, the glove was
torn otl‘, revealing the scarred stump of the fore finger, which
had been cut off! .

“ It was you who sought to murder me, Gaston Delislel I
see my work upon your hand." .

Strong men forced them asunder, and, amid the cries for

mercy from the poor girl, Rose was dragged to the side of ’

her outlaw lover, and the ceremony began. What did they
care whether she answered yes or no, but she had no choice?
There stood Edward, strongly held by four stout men, while
a fifth held a cocked pistol at his head.

i“ If she says no,” cried Delisle, “ shoot him on the
spot."

“ Never flinch, Rose i" cried Edward. “ He will kill me
after it; you can not save my life."

“ I can not give you to death, Edward," moaned Rose.
“ Vtht shall I do ?"

“ Let me pass l” shrieked a. well-known voice, and Madge,

Sinclair, breathless with running, parted the crowd and reached
, the side of, Delisle.

 

3..., ,r “film 

s: roman   m 1*

 

;,:'_;‘;'§fgg‘ toinjmmat you knew nothing of White 1" 4n », "

 

 an assurance.
-‘.L
‘ Before any one could interfere, she had plunged her knife
into Delisle's throat, above the collar-bone. It was the stroke
“ of death! He staggered, clutched at the air for support, and
fell groveling in the dust, the death~rattle in his throat. "
Madge looked a moment on the senseless clay, and stooping,
dipped her hand in his flowing blood and held it up.
,' “'Ha! ha! he 1” she screamed. “ He mocked at Wild
Madge, and see how he is answered! Stand back, brothers
of the Black League. The Ottawas are here !" _ V
She was right, for from every side the red warriors were
.coming upon them, with weapons ready. Pontiac was fore-
most; he parted the crowd about. the body, and started back
in surprise as he beheld it.
‘5 He is dead,” he said. “ Who has laid Red Lightning
',low 2"

“ I i" cried Madge. “ I, the avenger of blood t"

“And she shall die for it i” cried Entrennc Ball'biel', coming
.’forWard.

“ Silence, blot upon the holy name of priest," said a stern _
voice, and Father Marteau, the Jesuit priest of the Ottnwas, , -
stood before him. “ G0; you are ordered to return to Paris,
there to report to the Head how you have done your work.
I, as your superior, order it!”

“ Brother Josephus ” folded his hands meekly on his breast
and bowed his head.

“I obey,” he said. “ Must I go at once 1‘"

“ This moment.”

The Jesuit again bowed and turned to make his way
through the wilderness to Quebec. No one in America ever
MW his face again, after he sailed for Paris. What his fate

,‘was, no one will ever know, but he was blotted entirely from
‘the book of life. 7. ,

The Circle of Vengeance was broken by the death of their I 7
leader, and scattered to the four winds. N0ne'of them ever
returned to Detroit, for their secrets were now known, and
the place in which they had held their meetings we found,

‘ ‘- with all its paraphernalia. ’ ’ .

They had banded together under Delisle‘s charge to ‘driVe

k, g the English out of, Detroit, and had stirred up the Indians to
  i » the bloody we ’Had'the Canadians joined with them, they
 __ , / ’ . t

‘ ;

 

mm u now. 05/," '
must have succeeded, and the last of the chain of forts upon ‘ I
the lakes hava fallen. When all was over, they found a? hid- .
den passage from Barbier’s house under the wall of the fort
to the river-bank—a passage which had been built by the
French long before the English occupancy, and through which
Edward was carried upon the night of his capture. Why_this

passage had not been used in assailing the fort, no man can

'say. Probably Delisle meant to show the Indians their in‘ ,
competency, and afterward gain credit with them by taking
the fort by surprise, with the aid of the Circle of Vengeance. ‘
Whatever his design, his death doubtless saved Detroit from
a great calamity.

Pontiac had been called by Madge Sinclair to come to the
rescue of Rose St. Aubin, and had redeemed his promise
nobly. Madge bad guided them, and arrived in time to
avenge her slaughtered husband and save Rose from a fate
worse than death.

Rose was returned to her father‘s house, who greeted her
with joy. Edward Gresham and Ketadin were kept prisoners
'by the Indians, but with such men it was not a hard task to
escape, and in less than a week they came, one dark night, to
the water-gate of the fort in a canoe. They remained in the
fort through the long siege, fighting gallantly, and making al-
most nightly excursions into the Indian camps, until the
schooner which brought reinforcements to Detroit rounded
the island, bearing the red cross of St. George gallantly at
her peak, and Detroit was saved.

Madge Sinclair lived for years, but she no longer roamed
the woods, and one day, when they missed her, they found
her lying upon her husband’s grave, dead, with a smile upon
her face.

. When peace came, Edward Gresham and Rose were made
one, and Ketadin took into his lodge the beautiful Indian girl,
Katherine, much to the disgust of Davy Hughes.

The boy, under the tuition of the Trailer and Ketadin, be‘
came in time a mighty hunter, and one of the best scouts ’
upOn the border. I ,_ n’

" Edward Gresham grew to’be the leading man in M V. t. g

"/

 

mm LIGHTNING.

\

~ 3113 from him is descended one of the best families of the ,
, great State he helped to build.
\ As for Pontiac, he belongs to history. But, though an In-
dian, and one who fought according to his lights, he was a \
L wonduful man, whose name will not soon pass into oblivion.

 

 

 
  

ll)LME

 

  

  

 

S'TANDAR/fi ’37]
‘DIALOGUESmWN
For School Exhibitions and Home Entertaimnmm. " 1‘  ;:

ho. ! to 2: lulu-l". II to 95 Popular Dlnloguu and Dunn In nth book. 2“ volan l.

“mu pagan, um. poll-paid, on l'uurlp. o! prlca, ten cum:- . ¥ . I,
We & Adams, Publishers. 93 William: St" N. Y. , ‘1 -

'fnu velumel bun bun Kanpur-d VI!“ Olpaelnl referonre It: tbs" vrilnhllxty I.» Exhibitions
wheels and 'mrlon \ Ill: or vulln‘ln. lllu l'nrnltum .2 mar Rhll quud vu SCHO’

  
  
   
   
   
     
   
  
  
    
     
    
  
   
    
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
   
  
   
   
  
 

 

   

“mad; ted .0
W?) YOUNG PEOPLE a! fury I}. both male and femur. l: ls l." w Hum-o um ' V I ‘
nu In tho mvku, In any firm. couhln Io mum uuful and .wullaul- IllullW “(I-i.» * .x
\ not. I: “nor Sud untlmant. .; I ~

DIME DIAI‘OGUES, N0. 1. ' 

. .ue Mules. For nine ynunz lmllu. llohnobI-lng. Forflvr I nl-‘eu.

  
   

. .. .n '5 Eugl‘ahm‘n. For I‘vrou Mus 'l'lw Sucru‘ol Succuu. 'ut Lllrc: I‘pu‘rm.
Ma: 9 Jomnnlon. Fol vu-lo llld temlo. Yuuu Amc'lcn. Th’ru mu - Iwu {mum
“Han. E07 two Indian. Jon Ilno‘l Danny. Font .n, onnmv 4'

.I‘hc ally of Il‘l Duel. For the: “IIIUM
M19; w‘l! 7w Channel Fur cwoboyl. _ ‘Dogmnmm. Fnr Ilnrno mle Ipenken. V
"a an n! Mny. Fur two llu'l' glrll. Thu orlm Con’oul . Fnr two 31,. .
I‘M a: fin? ' Tlu ut Youn Mn: 5 v ,
n nr’l Rd: bllnf. I! funds-5o! I “a ’

« '1- Mi ,

fife Maul-l. Fur Iix ban.

  

:
w
p
i
a
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I.

 

.-
o
..
;
F
c.

 
 

l'lrea Seale Woullled Life. lM’nl-und Maul-n. _
Hr: Smflln’ C'nnluulnu. For Innlo nud femnlo. lTln Vlllnga wltll One Bantam".
(In blink»: of the Spin-In. Flva yuung ladle; null» and one mu. ‘ r V

DIME DIALOGUES I 3. .
(no Genlul nIle-rrv. 9 mllu and l fomnlc. lHew to ‘M Pnpulnr’ftorla. “it. 3m '
Clmlorulln or The Unln Gin" Slipper. {Thu New: Ll the UM. For Wu mm 3
olng Gnu an! Playing Bad. S-veml rhIWMN‘A Smwllo l as Lut. For "In
In Golden Rule. Two mam And "In “mnlu."Thl Green mm. For two mules.
no am of the Fblry Queen. Shir-l {males The Turn M an of Sclanu. \For four Ink}. . '
le'n In And I) In. Fnr. For 1w: chum-tau. "l‘ha Old L Lly'n Will. For louv mulu. y
.. 7" . Co untry Auun Vin. {o tho City. For Mr ‘Tno Lllllo fhil. In hm. For two llnlodfl. \
' ml churn-tan. How lo Flu-l An ulr. For flu males.
21:. Two Ram-m. For two main. The Vlrtm n. For le young ml...
fryng‘lh Chanda". Fn- lhru mils. A Connubl n 2510'“. A
.V

  

Th Funny. For Iuwrnl ‘nnh-Ib.’ The Public .nealln . Hun-lumde -
flu ‘ bow. For uv-nl Gblffltum Tho Eng“... Tuna tr. For Irena]... ‘ _ ‘ v

., .
DIME )ALOGUES, 110. 3. .
'l flu Quail. Fm In all" Ichool. Th. 9mm. Cook. For hr! mum.
)r .5: Ba! mn Can-unlun. Fv' an rm»)... Mulurplwa. For two mlu and two mm
loaning Fad Campan A Puma. For five mdn. Thu Two 3 mum. For he main.
whiting "not! mania... n miles. I {um-ls Thu Sum. Beau-ulna“. Font-o mun. \
iaiionnl Remnant-slun- A Burk-qua. J Ind... Shown-g \lu Vii-MA Funk". I male». I {m
[amnan 0.1-. Dun. For numermu mules. 'Tho Bnnlo Stall. A Wm Form ml. '

DIME DILLO%UE88 yo. 4‘3] .
(he Frost Vin . For tan 'nmon mm". a In I. clown a nut... ! n In.“
5.3mm; i-. (M: 1hr»: .nnlu nllnlltwn fnlnnlu Q_Srrno fro'u “Pqu Pry.” '0' lumlu
f-mil, ll - he nut! Chmizy. Fur lhrec llula glr n. Chum). For lhm udw "omnh.
)ur'-" rnJ 102m. For two mules uml ans fenn- Bu. Clnrk 42rd Broom. Ft" Ebro! Imln girl.
‘M A Floral Flu-ml Fur le 1m a glr ho nlfll'"'VX|\. ACollr'guy. Fo- twv: boy;
nuxmnm Pvrvur. 9 mnlequvarll [elm , 2:!ng Sayi- l‘r Q-o mnlne. \ ‘
u Whom 54"!“ Ill)“. 1 man, I humln The Crlmn ' .. D-c-I. ACollnqnf. Foriw :
" 1,llant. Mwuv-nlmulurmnr femalr Thl Rrwm A! anovnlepcg. (“2‘ '5' ' ' \

 

      
    

,
:r
a
9
S
..

   

 

A Ducunlon. For twenty mull-I. .TIIQ Lulu. 5‘3; two WL.

DIME DIAL‘WUES, If) 5. I -
I mun. Fw «Hm! «I rlor. [PI-Hing nu ‘ .-~ A anoouv ' a. U  r ~
‘2: \ “ Thu. l‘qm-n" " ‘n v-a. 7hr. élrnlful. Mar; ‘Mnrwr: Iv- '

11"1? the Curm'n. Far "ml-n nmi {emllam E’Tw'; Man: on Life. A Colloquy. Fa. '«L. an,

Tu Z. a l" sod-43. Fine My! Ind n u-u'l'r. .‘Eumnl [mm Murine Flllum.

Dav. Form-73ml [0."an nl'mhn:Mn-Ir}--l\' lin'y. An AcIlI-K Charade.

” F. rlavo-nl Hula. \"I‘ha Glx ‘/ Mn». Far ulx VflBlrL' ladle; I
' For an buyl. 1’l'lm lfil‘n-mn In Home at two mtlet.

.nln m4 felm‘leb. I Fashion .‘ula qunlmh Fur limo m

For VVO maul”. 4A 39'] JI'I my“). Far “unallocthan

DIME RIALOQIUES, F0. ‘6. 1" h V ‘
l' W ’n: K c S r 4. Mnl .an. amules. m .'0 nunn \n. Arc rnmglu,
fl REL: ulnar lipific-ullol’ol: For in mnlcn T):- "_umrln uf lely. For A numb-9r on "V"
"‘3‘..." “muslmm... a... ll“i§‘l’§:l“°‘“.. n" 1'“'.1"“‘.‘:.“"“" .q. "
. ’1 ‘ an: n . ax ’ a a my m ‘ .

TS» “old “at Oman. M31. and Racks. Sum CIA-I. l‘oran'bho;  m \
.34: r ‘ ‘ ' mlumfl “V..-
kM—h > .0 fish. _n '3'.“ ,/

 
  
   

     

    

       

\

 School lulu—Dialogue»

 

BIKE DIALOGUES, No. 20.

howl-mg . 'Thm min And thm tannin
Liturnoou Colin. For two littio xix-lo.
Nod'l prouut. For {nurbo I.
Jud aunt. For anchor IIII uuni ulwlan.

oil nzduuuu. For four lltliu loin.
SAnd by lovo. For two born.
Mlltaken identity. Two mll and that innit“.
Couldn’t road Euglilh. For a mulu undl 10ml...
A little Vomvluu. Fur nix little girls.
“Sold.” For thm buyl.

An uir cutie. For flu main and t'uno femulouv
City manual Ind country hum. For that p
and on boy.

Tho Illly l Iputl. For two girls Ind when
Not on: tit-rel For {our nmlo uhuructcn.
Foot- rim. For numoroul chnrutorv.

Keeping bulrdoru. Two fun-in run] three malt
A curo iur good. Ono lady and two glntlomv
Tine’ )du‘luu- win-urn. For two unm-

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 21.

‘utiul vionution party. For lover-l.
' nbt out of dringor.

an HI.
I d Riding Hood. For two childrfl.
nail- llIIlI rupnu. Admit.
M19 on the hli . Fur {our (mini...
.1 onto anougu. For two main.
Worth and wolltll. For [our tannin.
Want-u. For unrul.

For thro- quiu uni.

Murk Huntinp’ return. For (our m

Cindgroiiu. For uwrul children.

Ton much for Aunt Mullltlu. For thruh

Wit. min-t wi’o. Threr lrmnlll linden“

A Iuddon relovery. For three main.

Tho «louqu Itrntngeln. Forlour infill..-

Counting chicka bcturo tiny wow W
For {our uni-I.

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 22.

flu Dork Cupid: or, the mintuku at l morning.
For than mull-"mu Ind two i' ' I.
hutN r-do-woli; or, I broth." luton. For

mid two lomul I.

Righ at; or tho now mani For two [irlu

Strung. Mivouturu. For two boys

Tin king’s uuppor. For {our glrlo.

A partial nxunpiiflution. Fo-two boyn.

Kanliuur 'i‘himu in Amuriou; or. Yuko- VI.
Fronohmun. For four bu l

Doxy’l diplomacy. 8 fun: .- und' lnsidant ult.’

A Frouhmun; or, tho onuwittod Aunt. For two
NJ“ uud uuo goutluuuu.

'l‘ltunin'l banquet. For I numb" o’ lrll.

Boyl will ho Loyn. For tun- on I .01 out gill

A rainy any; or, the Iriiuol-glr philopr
For three young lndm.

God in love. For at nun-bur uf Ichnlun.

Tho w y be mnnugnd. Fo'. d 1min. Ihmolol.

l‘nndnngo. Vurioun chuncun, whit: l.‘ om

wu
Th- littlu durtor. Far-two tiny giyll.

A Iwut nun o. For four hoyl.

A May tiny. 'or Ihru litlla lf'l.

From thlnubllmo to tho lldifll on]. For “HIM
Hum not fun. For 6v» boys.

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 23.

Rhoda Hunt’l remuly. For a h union, 1 mule.
"In! Schmidt’l mommmd. For two muiu.
Char and Grumblo. For two litilo boys.
I'hop nntmn doughnut. For le haul-I.
Dool ll ply! For Oil ml".
Comply Inunuun and horn. impolltaum.
two mulu, two (om-loo Ind two childrou.
flu gludnllyi. For two llttlo boyl.
Unlovtumu Mr. lirowu. For i uni-,6 fallen.

for

A bur guvdnn. Fur tum main two Mob.

The bury bun. For four littio lirll.

Chuhmnto. For numuroun char-atom

Bohooi~ limo. For two littl- uiyll.

Donth loom. 9 prlm'lpll olilmnn nun! launch

Drou-I uud gold. Sovorul chumton, lulu And l.-
mu .t

Conlound Miller. For three lulu, two ton-lo.

min.

 

,ml out. For two girls.

lxnornnco u. outloo. For-‘1'":
Podium nil. ‘or {our tonal“.

D112 DIALOGUES. No. 24.

i . [odd-on o! iibortv. For uino young India.
0 thru mm. or thm liltlo .'
n. nuio dimtor. For nun mum.
A Itnngo mot. Fortune gilll.
An unjut mun. For (our main.
ho uhop girl’s v’utory. I mule, 3 tannin.
\unhmofl'n 3 ntlomon. 2 ildiu.
on word {at it. or {our ludiu.
A unm‘nr of ohunu'n, both nun.
‘ showman". Son" young mu.

’l‘h vi: bravo nun. For It“
in 0 you hard ti; Bowl!
‘ a In]: men. we
Aolirht fill-take. (mills, i
Irni uuxiliu In.

1M:
tum; I: mi)
buy and huly. Tau littio Minn.

Tin old uud young. I random, . M. £2
Tint 1mm card. a hull-null I 
Moth-r Goon o'Id bur bogfiou- A it"

uhool “my dun Ind tram r

DIME DIAMGUES, No. 25.

What of mo doiutoblu and in min!-
loru for two luiliu and two continuum
N I tuck would h: 0. 01min lmyl .1! mun-r.
dorsal." tbmuxh tho Clintdl. For {our mm. »
nth: blend in mod. Fur (our muln.
:1. Jun. For twnlvo mm znril.
dmln‘ out. For tin Imio buys.
1554. For on. main and fuur (amigo.
pound oi duh. For thus boys. ‘
m of tho podillen. 'l mind ell-mun. l
wordl. For \ numb» nl hop. 1
Ethndv [or A numbor oi‘ littlo girll.

i I” Do Ibo" boolu on sold by Nun-dwell

In Not a! pvt-o. 10 mt- Inch.

Th trM mo of wuitla. You whololflhw
I on For hum-rot:- chm

Put yourul! in hit le‘ For two

thtlo who hut-ii. For four littt. {his

Tho "loner-tori. For (in bowl.

Crubtreo’l wot-irg. Found (Eur-621!

Intoxrlly the brain tisil mum Two M3

A rvoo‘ud woy 1M4. “night 0::- um
oao‘ on. in".

Ho!- to“bvukh"V-u ',« ,3. The“
no out noun“. ‘

. .

mommmywksnfi ..

 

mmum D-L.mr‘ 

. ludoi’“

Uiu‘ w“
The fill
\eruc
nu... iru

my.
run 3"

char.

r malt
'11:“)

than

Eurlv nuring nnd rlx‘g,
A. Wani': oration,

l'ruo nniionnlily,

Uur nnmi day,

Young Amman,
Birthday ol Wuiiin n
r’iun iur the ano aw,
#0: on Hie bulllufield,

 

 

i’im linimn nrugglo, Sulfurino,
milapamluncm illullimnca iiiu bull 01
(Mr cuunlry, l'ho wnr, (“hurry

 

Uhnrgn of light urlgmlu,
Ailel’ in: bnuie,

i'lm gin“ nulrund,
Omani Mr. Much-ash,

'l'ho « “Milly ofnuul,

Lil’lfig'htf oi lilo Kero'n

""m l‘rui I ni llm Ivar,
llillgdilzlclllllu,

 

'l'wuu “mm ‘preuii,
i‘erriwrml axpnn-iou,
\lzlrtim Hupid

i‘nu bminm um
'i‘nu ln‘ll‘lf-Of-ilb‘
Rich nud ,mr,
w‘oung Lin nvclipne,
Banana of the luv,
du-IMIK! git up,

I“. m and m raaulil.

r.) u country's i‘ulnru,
{nu siuwunnu'n lmorn,
'ruu Ilum -rl.:|iilv,

Lot Iii. child leu weep,
Bur cuunlry’l glury,
Union I invusuhulvl,
ln‘iupandencn hell,

The Iciwlar’o dignity, V
Tile cvclal u! pupa“, Fil: rnzl oi iiiu,

A chm...» cnnnl, Cruowning Klory of U. S.
Blnbilllv ofu‘hrlalinmlyy l'inu (mil,

Th. uu‘e nignu in, Wnuhingwn,

Th: om gun! Mud, Our growl. inheriinnu.
The ship Ind In. bird, Eulogy on liuury Clnv,

 

   

 

 

Tins irmh ala-neut.
Truin'n lye-ch,
Christ)"- lpacch'
L--i. me niunu,
BrixnnniAiar Gan-r31,

Amati“ to the world,
Love of country,

Right. at uleruurvn-
Our can“ him,
A Kn Iluuidtn'l Ippunl,

Kunluek, mindful, The dnii,
Tilnhliiy in tron-an, Union Squlr. Ipcnhu,
Tim nlnruul, This Union,

A r“ I5|h.155l,
I“ a spirit of ’SI.
flu puden- lurihgc,

Our country’l call.
The nary u! an oak tru,
L-u-g an my leg,

Kl‘Myergou on tho war
Age bluntly “Midland,
L‘rly mlng,
l'lm pr :nd ih. bu,
Umnic Gmm nlr, No. 1.
Pin not-i Iinzlu mun,
A. Wiril'n uivico,
Burl“: «m Pickwick,
it“ I'd“ \m‘ Julian.

‘uppium,

K".

Pu ,

A gum Eulnzium,
HM! N he in firmuml,
The United States,
Pufn nct‘l. ol' him-sir,
Phwlinnl phrunulu;y,
Beautiful,

Cubimgo,

Ding-stub]: pcnplo,
Winn is n h1|¢|IOIDV iikai
Funny folkl, '

 

IA. PRIVCXI‘IJ! or I‘m: Etvncurms.
null: in am! vim. - h .w to IVuId iii-m.
Cl'll rulul nml OJII‘I’YII“ Inl.
ll. Tux Alu- or Oununv.——Sherirlnn'l
ni Ihe Pmiom. Tmuqmllily,Cnuri‘ul-
n .HirLiiJini liel'y. Butl'auurn'. J -\'. Dali-Jill,
Gnvily, Inquiry. Aim-Minn, Mudruy, Peir-
ioxilv, Pilv, Grief, Molnnclwly, Dulnur,
rnr. 'Slmme. Rmnorse, Cnurngu. Banning,
Prida, Olmiinnry. Authuritr Cumpmnnlinu,
ForbidJing, “firming, Dauyinz, Diflann a,
Axial-Imflxhortinz, Judging, ApprovingY Ac.
uming. C-Inulunning, Tanking, Purdonlnz,
suing, Diuniuing. Rain-Inn, Gaming, Da-
pndmw,thar-tlou, Ho I Denim, Lon. Ra-
, Chill-Wand", A mirnionfirniiude,

o. Ann-in Tom tin Promising
MMMfiMc-i «flu-.0“. '

 

  
 

 

 

 

DIME PATRIOTIC

l1. Jahuuxu’l oration,
‘A Dulch cure,
Tina :zelillier,
r1..- heme-i hm",
ll'hiloso my Ippiiud,
lAr. old nihd,
‘t’o .n}
, .

 

lumiilnvsw,

 
  

“in n Jiiil mun,

 

 

()h'm,

Ulivur llnznni Parry,
our dumuin,
Si‘uclua ui' Wild,

in imiinn chiol,

    

7
Thu indnpelnient Inrmi-r

Mm. Grunnnnr'n imii.
How the nmllu)’ camel,
Fulun 0! Lin: ! Iiiiuul.
L-Iynlly 1- iilmriy,
Our cuunlry lint.
Ilid ulwnyu.

Britain influence.
Doiunw ui Jun-Knoll.
aniuu-I hulrcdi,

lililiarv 0! our flag,

T. F. Menuher‘I mlvlrou.

‘vVa own to the Unit-n,

Lint apeech of Siopnan
A. Douglas.

Lincoln's meulzu,

Grunt iluli Rninml,

Tim le Yen and the

King Comm, [Unlum

iinila nmhum,

The end-of pound,

 

DIME COMIC SPEAKER, No. 4:.

A ton! of woc.

Wnnl’l trip to Richm'd,
Pur-bdy,

The monnhhnnk,
Cmnpnnnd inter i
A urumn on lb. (0.4.
Old dnz Jack,

The fllhnn’ tail“,

lirlnn O‘Linn,

I'mrkul. mount-«km
\th in my uppullvlu'

 

DIME ELO'J’ITIONIST, N1. 5.

Tun Cnuwmnr ELIMINH m n.
(9

SEC. iii.
0|u‘rnm.—-iinlo

 

 

 

 

I

hm,| rh.~ warm .4 m.

 

“mun mm: srmnns—so to so mean in nah Volunt.
man “11:21ch man, No. 1.

Gun! \iul lnnporilhlbll
'l‘he prupiwc)‘ {or the v’l
Ulilillilhnd prnbh-uu,
ilunur M the dead,
lullllurlulily ul' "mink
\V.~n~1.r’v.pulu.'l spun

wig", lnmnd fool .\ rum“ Ill Lnu iatmu.
' [.sli, i‘lmpu-m,
My“, W n

    

Na pence mm upprru- .\ly imliier,

\,,;,.,.,.l, ,l'mi‘. nu pilrcnuiugy, ni .n, “‘umuu,
'lery on lifv. Annabel has. A lulu n! a “lunar, lAl'Inu,
mdewnI, l‘fi'mlungluu't mun-n .\ nunmgh lug rumn,‘ n... r-:iwiiion oi 18*-
grun, i‘nu nmiur huy’n nymn, inc LuaL oi 1mm, .Imnuuu.

_ DIME NATIONAL SPEAKER, No. 2.

Mnrnlor will out,
Sirius iur ma out.
Eznlv mm,

“min at kindnuu,
Gum ui niarp,

l'ins buuiu,

A mum-I. gem,
l’urlly ul’ m. drums
0M ngu.

li-wllii'ui Mld true.

 

Mun vui this Inlinziu
Lung-mg. ui' um Euqu
Wilmington,

l‘iu Duiugu.

SPEAKER, No. 3.

Fraction- tiu w-ichwoll
Crllil of our nation,
Duty of Chriniun p5

irinis,
Turkey Dnn‘n oration.
A {urleu p’u,
This onul oi luvary.
A {ureigmr'n lrihuil,
l'hu lilllu Zuu'u't.
Cullluiic unibrimi,‘
'I‘lu " Spacuiuwn.

0

Political Itump loud).
Comic Gran-mun. No. L
Furnwu” in tin Main,
The r v1; lug,

   

'l‘uia til I in“.

'n... debuting club,

A Dnlri. xnrluull,
erlure on i. enmuiio.

 

.\in.Cnudiu uu Umbr“

 

‘0 mm munppllm \

“'oull uni Pllrllul. vll.: Pllnl)‘. Proprifly
i’reciniun. A. nppliexl in St-Lleurvs. viz.
Lonth nfanlunro.Cirnrnull.Unil Sire-mix.
Figure! of Spruoh; the Exuriliu H, Kim N-u'm
“nu, thn Propr-lilinn, [he Cumin-anion, ii.’
Karim-lion, tin l'erhmliun.

SEC. lV. Rurnnmnnvu Exunalnsm Pun-l
AND V'Bunk.» 'i‘rnnsilinm: A Plea iur llm 0x
Fnlunfl": Soiilnquy 1m Honor; 1 Burl-l
Lincnln; the Call nnrl Rmpumn ; the nilyOlI“
Chnrga; Hiliory n! n Lila: llle Bugle: lh',
Bali-z Byron; Mach-nil mid ilie Duck-r;
Hamlet’s Solil ur; OlliTiiinKl; Look Ur
ward; King W ilimu Ruful; tho Eyt; .-
Eln onto Mulik; Diwveriu oi Gniiiuo-

EEC. V. Ouuunou I)! Goonhnl

 

 

 

:

mm. SchooLIerhI-u-Spgukm

1mm amazon: sums, my ..

A ml story,
.' :- Imug ul anions,

A Irugic n vry,
A ,

I.
u. nhi
KL. p’

’ u Us
w, .lr 'I lerluru,
.4 mm,
Illa ll-mnhlu woman,
l'llallu,
\" mm.
5 r [Hahn-ergo".
I nticlmr’: sunk:
\‘llzluw .. uyiuluus

How the money gnu,

Poetry Yun mud,

llun- .l-du-ri’l Fourth of Righh Imuml,

July untmu,
ll you mum no, Iny no,
Ju Bo \ u on leap yenr,
Lay u! lhu heulmckud,
Luv. Skimmr'u elugy,
Matrimony,
lN‘ thing In (10,
Old t'uudle‘l umbrellu.
()lll Griuwu‘n nun,
.“ l‘mlllla your own cu-
llnu‘"
Pam-4y on “ Araby’n
daughter,"

Sclcnllfic lacuna,

T he lager,

Tho Cockney,

The codf'uh,

Fate ol Sargon“! 'l' n,

The lunluru’ qqu c‘l

Hnnmrlcun would at ,

’l'uu lump 0! & tln uuud
ntrium,

Thu Inn of “no urplnu,

'l‘lu qureh Lo Aluwvw,

The mylhriou- gunk,

'l'hu pump,

rm unaran

Tho I- end.

Thu Ihuuunlur,

Tho unlul dub-tor.

'l'lm wturhul.

To Illa huehulm’ I!“

Ivuxm,

Unllutl sum M: ;

Vnguriu ul pom“..-
uullou, V I

W ml. I wouldn’t LL

,Yluku Jul.de AM, I

2- Montana. ‘

1933.

DIME STANDARD SPEAKE t, No. 7.

{he warlrl W! ilvo in,
'oumu’l claims.
{uthun ul lur liburly,
'he run] eon uernr,
‘Iha cllluu'l «lingo,
ul ,
Thu mechunlc,
#:turfi Nllurtj'l (End,
a u gfll goo , nun.
Onlun’l nddren tu :Im
In-lapcnd-m-a hall—1717
John Burnt, Gully-burg,
' o lort ln hwu'uu,
kl A'rudu’l low-party,

HI‘HJJL-qtnhbl' vluv-
on tho lluulioll,

Hull: Schwu’claheluur on
womuulu uv,

All {ur n hamlqu n.

Old acun, (m,

Tn: tea in nu. lha (man

Thu Ilur angled ~|Illnla0r

{my when you brlong
"1'. wlmt you mud" in,

Wharf. my mum-3"

3 much fry-m mnwunen,
uu’u «hull-u mum-My

“1‘ llmlh w harpluuu,

Tho pongr ol an luleu.
The bemficuuuu of ma
Sufirugu, [~eu,
Dreum ul‘fl-o revelers,
HuwCyrun laid \hu able
The prellleat hind,
Punuloxlcal,

Hula Jerry, the mlllor,
The hell ,

l‘V-fly thonzhll.
Th'u huliu' mun,

. n,

Thus Idler

'l‘lm uubullavor,

Good-nah)” I bleulng,
Sermon 1mm hlrrl-Iluell
'l‘uil-cudurl. [Bu-ll“,
l‘he vulue of money,
\Inuorlc \“lqullillnn,
m nun you an rlghl,
B. of good cheer,
Cnhbod folk], [Ihffl',
Tnmlng I m an : Ill ln 2
Fume", [cullllll'y,
The true mum“ of our

The “menu bullle-fiuld,
l’lu lur the llupuhlic,

DIME JUVENILE

w ’I hllnm h
\ vutp' - 'v filly."

-.,
uludluunn,
mlan corn.
no ulilor,
he cums. in rhvmu,
I'i‘u I xlry lllurl‘lllull',
'1qu 2:1. luuruud,
y'n- s ,n, '
'l'hu In. .9,
Thu in hr in (ha grnl,
Tulu < {Illa £10fltl,

“Brounley‘n syn. Il'

he IBIIIO. lul‘oml “tn-Id
he fllhcv‘l chll-l,

Play-lug hull,
ll, \vny,
LII“! lvr IoIm-thlnz.
Lay M the humrwknd,
’l‘lm out-uh dug.
\Vulr nml lumb.
til:an ln law, f Ll
nwu nu iu' urn ' 1:
Sick nun, -" g’
Ununlry and ern mlu,
\luu Ind wuumu,
Hume,
The LotuI-pluulur,
Llnle lhlngs,
A Haby'l wliloqny.
Repentance,
A plea [or emu,
Humbug purllmcm.

 

ukmanflzm scholar
Mulder; ’l pulm‘of llln,

Night Ill-r 0hr Hull.
Slum up,

. film-run?”

N. IEuzluml & the Unloh, '

The urn llwp

'l‘lm lruu Ichr Il'

Judge: not lr llllhla,
Munich-n, (cu-hm,
lunubiluy ; lucceuful
Agriculnm

Ireland, [quon
’l‘lm purl ,lw-yn cou-
lllunc u 1 pr,
l’nmla ul ‘Auattll,
Wl-lnnp, ‘
Thu Blur 1y “one.
The find A! ol Bonn.
l'hu Moll m thOhuld,

DIME STUMP SPEAIIR, No. 8.

Arm! 5, [fr-Ila: .

" Iligg | of u:miuu”’u

Lil“ Luna-L.

Hum u unuu,

Luw en,

W" .m utlha Indlnnl,

A [ml lu b0|-|!InlAIn.
: :rlu of mu. [llb-rly

A Luy Sermon,

A drum,

Aurnnmulcnl,

u moan, Ium,

Dulles of Amman LA!-

Tl“ mun,

8‘ EAKEB, Na.
H 1" gm nuu hum-

olmx.

A mothor’l mark,
The mm,
Who rulun.
A thee]! "my.
A linlu t-nrrrspomlrnl,
(Lna L'nml tum dvurn'el
M )i llrvuul, [uuuumn

l . u,
1‘“ nevnr uu whim,

A ummiu,
The old Mcholor,
riITEI' w ll‘lll'
Lml. Jim, .
Angulluu’u lament,
JolmnyShrlmy-oubooh
Mercy,
Chaim a! hull.

 

The Blblo,
Th: puru- uni mwd- ’
plfly counlrlv,

HIS mom POHM
Whnl ll Wurl

nutr,
My Duhonh Ln,
'l‘ho mu.
1'2. pin 1rd nud‘...
Thu modern Pull-o.
lmmonnllxy 0" th-
Oeru lion,
lleru un Ind dnrllfl.
A Ibo:- Al. m dumb

'l'cmpht'm of em“;
llruhn 'w'utlnnn,
‘l‘lmu ll no dunk, ,
Rut",

A lruMul dlumum,

A Fraud-mar. Ilium,
Unjun unluunl ru-qui I
'l‘hc nmnuur cold-mung
Thu cold water mun.
Purmununey ol Sula.
Lihurl ' ol I| nth. '
Juhn ' hmnmou'n dun“ '
llama-cleaning, ,
1: i: not. you: b

9.

'Nnthlng In do.
H "any bun policy,
flu-mm“,| a I

In I» r l u .-
Fuhl u an lhf"
On Shanghai”

A Imlle,
Sunblunen.‘ '
.uumupmh n 5..
Nu»: mad 0‘ .4, P‘
Mm, [mt
A hund ed yum (1
Th. littlan Ill Qua I15
le- “mums, 1.1m, ‘
Suullu on ole-:krluky.

The two (gala,
l'lu uun norm

 

 

lurk!

 

Poor R’ehud'
mesw;

r

)olllyl‘ml «(man , '
utopia?  , "A

 

’4') view

- __—..-

Dune School lattes-Speakers.

 

DIME SPREAD-EAGLE SPEAKER, lo. 10.

a Baum-Monti“.

’ Von Spimi’u 4th,
. lush Biilinn'l nan“,

.A innbstnsli mmun,

In. hm“.

I‘ln squadxor.

Noah and the dsvli,
. luv-r’n |ucu
.iiiniutin “nigh”.
Dire-lion and nrndlu,
Mstimtion’s di.ud[vuutA
mitn. nae-p
‘vs l’AullA Ben‘iihu‘
in)“ 0! umious,

L ’MIATH'} warn-ml
In nlflce and unfulnun,
'Povmstion uf,
:uultiilltinn‘of,
By-an of,

lures oi ‘nvernment,
.ornl ruin of order.
.ocal ruins of debate,
mhjull for iiixenasiou.
u.—Ilo 1'0 Mun.

 

y
Ptanuintel to orator-
Icll success.
Th. logic of dnhnte,
I'h rhuthric nmiuhnta,
ml to ntmm,
lu prulhnlnnry pr:-

miss.
0rd,: of moat.

Spolkinu for the Ihorifl,
Dakiug I shweut,

Thai: and mm,

Jash Billiun’ lecturing.
Dnelor DeBlisur's nuu‘t
Cnn-ixnrnents,

llur-l iivrs,
Dnu Bry-nt‘s speoch,
A cul‘ red View,
()I‘iJiiifli Maud Muiier‘
Nobody,

'I‘rnin o! clrcumstnnus
(loud advice,

Thu itching palm,

Sumnmry.

xn.-—cuunusx’sauma

Ordinarv muting: and
mum " .

'l'he organizutlnn,

Order of hnaiueu md
proceedings,

Thu “ Quastion." How
it an bu t sated,

Tim " Quslllun." How
tn b0 rousidnr (1,

Rights to thr flunr.

Rights 0! s a :euksr us
szniustth» r air.

Cnilinu yen and uuys,

interrupting: a vole.

Organilutinn o! Delib-
srntira Ilodios. Con.
ventlons, Annual or
Gcnsrul Amuihiiel,

Drum-hand urmnu,
Sehmturl’s philnsorde.
“ “'omnu’l rightn,’
Luhr Lnthor,

’l‘hn hug,

J’M‘ii S trait,

New “gland tragedy,
'i'iw unriqu linuhulnr.
Jucnb Wliiuic‘s «punch,
Jx-rks prugnoltiuulns,

A wnni with Snouh
Silt Lmrngwd,

A mule ride, [zerm
Josh Billings ou bu:-

Prelilninlry
tmu.
Permanent

arguin-
orgnnlu-

I on.

Thu arxlcr of businen,

Cunsldering ruporu, pu-
pors, aka,

0! subsidisry motlnns,

The duo ord-r of son-
sidr-ring qualtions,

Committees,

Object: of n committu,

’l‘huir powers,

Haw uuxued,

When nut unit,

Rules 0! order snd pro-
esdura.

How to report,

The commutes of tin
whole.

 

‘ DIME EXHIBITION SPEAKER, N0.

R. mm at tho day.
ohoathun China,
The hurl In Ion,
Jim Hindu),
BC trun to yum-soil.
Ah Bin’s reply.
A plan (or Imilu,
Th. Sutuislaul scion-
tiiir I truly,
Mu ltuly,
ital \"t nil—u ruler,
’hs cuts.- ot‘ on: min
wow",
5: trait, of puller

"am, I

” - 2m" oru-ron.
J. lulu’fly’l lmii,
op. s unungsnlal to
Kronuuss,
Liv. 'ur something,
Civil Ind religiou- lib

orty
, Own-xi rsrluw oi the
Blind army, I
mount, a! politics,
In»! firm-roman
.Gtsrsmr «4 union-

,' ymxgxrnm"
I“ gum

 

moi.
The ninety km“.~

Th- critiasl mom-M.
'i'ht vast and tho want,
is tin-unlu- mnno in it!
r. we n nntiuu
~‘ncinl science.
influenza oi librrty,
Tit. pntrint’s I'imin'o,
'l‘ila right nl' tha poopis,
Tim crnu’niug giury,
Tim pumpkin.
Win-n \‘nu’m dawn.
\tht nminmi hns none
Thu right entmiity,
",‘h- rmtinnn ling,
Our truu tutura,

0n keeping at it,
The truuurus oi
duep,
Ken-p to
The pin-vi
A sketch.
The sword the tuna u-
blur,
Arlstorraey.
Rnrnuflrimaillin’s (‘6th
Obod Snipirlnl.
A rsiutropho,
hoarfnlnw,

thc

at,
cm freight,

Monutsinu.
Tho but 11' of tho Inn-

-Gvavolntto, ‘

All Imlii

Enisnclystinn n! llipnu.
Spirit in fornvncsl,
Anmasly sud love,
ltrunty.

Snug v! lulu-r.

1| Travatnu.
Kin-tug in mu. “3*
Sruulainus.
Slightly nuxe-l.
Tile «mm-nevi",
Ohi imcimlors,
\anunli.

’I ha Niuln Nlnmg
l’enrie will tala,
SmithiJlm-r's bull
wm: Manhunt 1;. (in
Don‘t Iirpend MM
Muric ol‘ Lily-n

‘l'hs Amur’cnu all"

DIME DEBATEB. AND CHAIRMAN’S GUIDE, No. 11.

i‘tiisceiinneous. ‘ '

nutmsut ut st 1

The :lsmrnm 5rd 0‘

Hints to I cnuinnan.

w.——mtunu.

Debut. lufuii:

Which is the mute.
bun-tit to hit count?)
-tha warrior, than
msn. or poo”

Debulu in brief:

I. is tho reading a
warhs of fiction toh
c’ondcmmdl

H. An inwymnbcnn
slit or I curu to I.
cittyl

v.—quvu!ml All

htin.

12.
What ws IO. II N lb

A lurtnre,
Whit l with.
Gomi umnnurs.
A hail-d at Luh trig
Sun‘mva,
'i'hu Owen-inn run.
A ruvlew M simultan-

\

 

Mul ifrsl dn-rtiny,
Ls: ll alnnui
iii-enmeer «Muirth
.‘inun iiiuiiur
Hnnn limit-nan,
“‘hsl in true lapping-s,

od V.

DIME SCHOOL SPEAKER, Na. 13

Tim dnud srcret,

Civil servira warm,

The ll‘ill‘ Kenticlunn,

The trnxic pn.

unnu KCHOOI. Pllcll

A cry for life,

The: Inlvbntil,

Gnnried lives,

A gnod “is

To whom shall In (in
thnnhi

Resolution.

Nov-r mind.

The ilihio. ’

clan-many ou- in!-

 

” a
Thswsntnlthshm'

Thu irlsh of it. A push‘

t

Thanh-ll!

in

Tho

Lima Brrruhn,
thl Dnuucrhcci “V

stun din

Iv
A victim 0‘ my.“
Shrry m thu- NJ. A
A cold ir ch: ., as
M' It.” Aer rm.

Tiromitinifh m

The hum-r view.

Do tin mun—«u “awn;

Jesus iuru'er,

'i‘hu hrurl,

Th. world,

Beautiful rhonzhis,

A picture oi iilr,

Be true tn ynnnstl
young rnnu.

gun in pairing,

0 Irv-pr: M an

5 oil: nntlmrshiy, /

mu mu

m»‘

"for

 

I

.

v / hm senoox. umaw'md mum

V t’i '3!)- dc matter, All nbont n. bu,
, in" Mismlllppl nlimclc, Scandal,
all £0 this euo'nn In, A dnrk lid. View,
Dune inns vat Muy In! Tu lucr vnv,

go! On allrllingUMIn,
Put é’Flnhorty on 70- Alllry'llhmtllvlzulmb
man’s rig!) u.

A hunky dim“...
the hum: rulcn, how rumin- luv-ups“,
thny “apnku,” Ulnl Mn. Grim“.
‘ Hex-km: Dame: ur pnrody.
Moihefl-in-luw, vlnrn Ilul um.
He didn’t sell the (km. nll Untlnrwoo-l,gilu|,
)‘Izo true story 0! ank mi Gnuloy.
lill’l kite, ‘lm pill pmldlor-I um-
i would I Inn n bu: iiuu,
' 'l'ulrlur
wunil.

DIME DIALO

Mennllnl. Thruolnrliel nn>l lwn panileman.
Humming nud lllulu-llllld. Six lull“ uni uunl
mmcluwrs .
A “u find. did not (all. Six Mr I.
. l‘vm Nl_\’| Ll suing thing-~ Two mu. girll.
Duu'i. can“ Your chicken: hulk“. tiny In
. Four lndln and u buy.
l1 no" and wnr. 3 Indian. 2 grnilamen.
aw uncle '.,Ill gov. rinl A I the law}. Two umlu,
with nut.) "sustain-noun.

Grun’l In:

numn.
A putlmtlo "My,

Lam. Chimu “my,

Th. inn tin-tiny oi
Ih u,

PauyM nun.

Spiny: from Jolh Bil
m I,

Di urnumluncu 0L d-
Ililwution.

Dlr'n nnflu nur under

. dc Inn,

A Nauru rollglmu poem,

’l‘lml violin

lPieulc M; in»,

IOur c ndlu Inn's Vlf'l'

‘ undrunry'n wind-m1,

l’luin lnnuuuxv b; {will
fill Juuu,

GUES No. 26.

DIME DIALEC‘I‘ SHAKER; No. 23.

if no hbor‘n dag“ ' »,
Coidflt'fld Myihohflg
Pmul.
Tim Nonidn,
Tangendn «if Ania,
u unu- no in
A dokulor’rclru Mala“

The coming nun.
illixnnt uh" '

J

Tl"
Muldven’u,
Tlmt um. baby
ill» cumur,

A gun-Winn Ink
An invlluilm
bird 0! llburty.
rim arr-w.
out In“

 

The h-uon n! mares. Two wry mull m

Pmnliuo whnl you punch.

Pumiclnn. Nuumo Ic

Thu :nnvsulng I In.
lumblu.

Grub. X‘wo mlln.

A Light ulna

Emhndl dlum lno.

How Jlm him did.

Tl:
1

DIN DIALOGUES No. 27.

: Iy O'Dowd'l amp-lam
“d on. lemuln.
91:st inlanqu not than jut. Rum-rou-
CPL
manna-and Arum. For neural zlrln. /
.' rlu. Four mnlur and mu {um-lo.
Fur flvu hull“-
Nlmt w lcun lhuvul For A lady and Ho boyl.
lndopand-nt. For uumroun chnrlcurn.
llncn nun-on tlw NIL For (nut hm I.
ii'vlwi and {mud w Mil-ll Fur ‘cvvrll main.
A Luy‘l ylok Fm «wand climatic".

 

ll

‘11:"! J

two Ilnlu xlI'lI.

I I had ihn monuy.

"Thu ungrnlulul llfllr ui
‘ For

} an inn“.
bMIIJII‘I.
Two union ad in

Tluu hmdn Ind on ml.

rn ouug lulu.
we u.

For thm union The nth-o! zlrl'l good up! For {In lulhl and

w." Fov we min.
’40 Ilulu llrln.

Awmnmncu !" «mm. For nun]

and mm ancmr’.
DVU'I pron“. '0' two
An unluread nun.

I? ‘1: glrln.

For In .‘Il chnnehn.

1 hon- rll‘o prnuh nml Ilm I who yonurm. I.

o umln.
ownquut. For

in 1 young [ll-h.

' g- Tiu aha u nou- .n mid )y Xanadu-10: Mouth-n. or will u I m. putpdd, I. q

.1, My; u. yriw lo um: numb.

IUD“ 8 ABA”). ’lbfluhon. DI wnn- 3%.. I. '-

 

 

, 7 ‘1 r 1 V r 1

DIDIE POCILI‘. I IV()\ luIJS.
PUBLISHED BENTLMQNTIILY, AT TEN ('l-I\'l‘~'- l".\(‘ll.

Hawkers llurry. 6] “ml .hnhmu'n Sum-(M Him-l. XII-k.

llend 8 at. 6‘2 The Inn-Idem: Trapper. Kll Illml.

The lloy )Ilnern. 63 The Florlllu Mun-1. ‘ ‘l (- SIN-(101‘ llld

lllllc lllck. 6A1 TlnI lulnnll Trapper. m l’- ~.

Nat Wolfe. 65 “'MI'rCun.

'l‘he “’hlte Trm'ker. 66 lhltlllm: llluk.

The Ilut-ln“ ’ll “'ll‘e. ' 0. ' th rrnpur.

The Tull Trnppcr. Ill .' .‘qunllcr lllt'l“.

lehtnlllg .Iu. Tho \ (-llow llunlvr. Tm- ('hlld h'py.

The Inlnntl I’lratc. 70 The I‘hunlum llhlor. )llnl. ('unl.

The Boy Ihmm-r. 7| llcluu'ure Tom. “('(l l’lumo.

“enm- the Trapper. 2 Mln-r "lilo. - (lulu llu- 'l‘rnllor.

The French pr. ’l‘ln- Sheldon Fuml. The Land Can-hr.

Lulu: Shut. V . o ('nllnllml (‘lllvfi

The Gm men The \\ om! “ "(‘ll. Kurullm.

Hell "I “M llull’. Illc Trauuu-r. ‘ ('llrlt‘l ,‘l<'(‘(‘ll~lll. ‘

lfl'lfilolo)‘)u)

"('Il. rapper. The Kt‘lll'lt‘l Shouldl . Kidnnmu-tl.

“'lld "ch”. l lnrdrr “ilk-Inn". Huh! ul‘llu- Mountain.

The Specmr (‘lllt-l'. ’

Th0 ll'nr-Klllcr. "lgrlh'l‘nll, S

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In. ‘ Krulnn. (he
he Ritual-r.

The I lan‘d Trapper.

' liodlmld. [he Hm.

'I‘ho lllm-k Shlp. ‘ ' H ' l' llt‘l’t‘lllth.
filnxlr ‘ “ ll r.

\ ludlul , v The lmllnu N4 Ill.
The Sum . 'I‘lu- (lilrl AVonm-r.
Eagle Eye. . ' ‘hv: “ml llormlh-u.
The )lp'nlle (‘uumn . §llll'-F)I('(’- llu- Manor.
The Golden "an-pun". The .\nlrln|v|~ ll").
The Smilp Klng. . 9 The l’hunlnm llunlrr.
01d Lute. Tom l'lnllo. Ihv l’llnl.

" Ilulnlmlt. Hunger. > Tho "ml “'lznrd.

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I'llv-l‘y llh'k. 1' 'E lw I‘nlrlm ‘(vulllm
A .1ll(‘»l'| . 99 ('nluurl ('rnrld‘ll. . 'l’lu- \\ u 'tl Hill-1.2mm.
Illuro Hunter. 100 0M llcnr l’uu. ‘ " v Ilvd hav-

Tlu' Noioln N-uuln
Rorllvr lit-nomul .
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103

I01 Sun-red linulv.

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Tln- lmllnn Spy.

Jul; lH'nII.

'l‘llt' “'nml King.

The l~I'llle-Il llunH-r.

.Vll-L. Iln- Smml.

Th0 Toxin: Tlgvr. .

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TIzrr-llvurl. ' I‘(l|' ‘ '

Tho “an-Lu! .\u‘ngor. IL

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lllxlok l’xInllM-r. ' s \munl' LIN-H}.
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'l‘wn-"xnulc-«l \lul. ‘. " , 'I‘unlunul gm.

) .“ml Trull llllllll‘r- Th» I’rnirlc N'uurgo.

IRI Red Light! ing. By W. J. Hamilton. Bondy Flay 331%.

IR? Braw "can. By James L. Bowen. Really Juzw llllx.

[83 Vi ‘hl-Hau’k Kit. By Joseph E. Badger. JI'. lh-avly .llnw thtll.
IS I ll "slang Sam. By Joseph E. Bmlgvr. Jr. anzly July Nth.

1 R5 Hurricane Bill. By Joseph E. BIVlL’Pl‘, Jr, Rvndy July with.
186 The Red Outliuv. By W. J. Hamilton. Rl-nrly Anumt Dill.

137 The Swamp Scout. By W. J. Hamilton. anly Aurusf QM.
188 The Shawnoe’s Foo. By W. J. Hamiltnn. szuly {\‘npwmln‘r lith.
189 Muluuvk Nat. By W. J. Hamilton. Really Soplvmlwr 20m.

190 Old Jupe. By  Orrin James. Ready (lvtolwr 11h.

191 The Prairie Rifles. By Henry J. Thomas, Rn,me th-mlwx- IRth.
192 Old Kyle, the Trailer. By Henry J. Thomas. Rmva Nov. kt.

BEADLE AND ADAMS. Publishers, 193 “'llllauu MrL-ct. New York.

0 l‘ k Kllllz. i

' .hlrlull. the I’llol.
'l'ln‘ Hull-l llllCl". i
‘ The Phantom Tracker. |

\lm-mI-In "I". l

The “'ull‘ "noon. i
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